Šāh-nāmah - The Šahnama of Firdausi, Volume 1

UP to the beginning of last century the Sháhnáma existed in MS. only. Since then five more or less complete editions have appeared in print:—

i. In 1808 Dr Lumsden undertook to superintend an edition of the poem, one volume of which was published at Calcutta in 1811, but the publication went no further. This edition will be referred to as L.

ii. In 1829 Turner Macan, who must always hold the place of honour among the editors of the poem, after devoted labour in collation of MSS., published at Calcutta in four volumes the first and only complete edition, the earlier portion of the text being based on that of L. This edition will be referred to as C.

iii. In 1838 Jules Mohl published the first volume of his most sumptuous edition at the expense of the French government. Six volumes have appeared; but the work was never finished owing to the death of the editor. This edition is based on an independent collation of MSS., and includes a French prose translation as well as the Persian text.⁷⁶ This edition will be referred to as P.

iv. In 1850 a complete lithographed edition in one volume folio, edited by Muhammad Mahdí, a native of Ispahán, was published at Tihrán. The text is a reprint of that of C, with occasional variations, some of which are of value. This edition will be referred to as T.

v. In 1877 J. A. Vullers published the first volume of his edition, and two other volumes have since appeared. The publication of the third volume was interrupted by the lamented death of the editor, but has since been completed from the materials left by him by Samuel Lindauer. Even thus the edition contains only about the first half of the entire poem. This edition is based on the collation of the texts of C and P, with occasional readings from L and T, and other sources. This edition will be referred to as V.

The only complete European translations of the Sháhnáma hitherto published are the French one above mentioned and an Italian one in verse by Signor Pizzi. Translations and summaries of portions of the poem have appeared in English and German. The indulgence both of the Persian scholar and of the English reader is asked on behalf of this the first English translation of the poem as a whole in view of the magnitude and difficulty of the undertaking. Our prime object has been to produce a clear and intelligible rendering, and with this end in view we have found it needful to dispense with certain redundances in the original. All these probably may be grouped under the following heads—variant, corrupt, and spurious passages; repetitions, tautologies, and platitudes; and idiomatic and grammatical constructions that proved intractable. Those who are acquainted with the original will readily understand what these omissions amount to; those unacquainted with it may easily find out by comparing our version with that of M. Mohl. Both will, we think, admit that we have left the fable absolutely intact, that we have scrupulously avoided cutting to the quick and have done nothing to forfeit our claim to call this the first complete English translation of the Sháhnáma.

Our version is metrical, partly rhymed and partly unrhymed. The rhymed portion consists of preludes, apologues, sayings of wise men, songs, terminal couplets, passages in which the poet speaks in his own person, and some others that seemed to lend themselves to such treatment. These form a very small part of the whole, and are generally line for line with the original, though couplets or hemistichs may be sometimes inverted for convenience in rendering. We have changed the metre occasionally partly for the sake of variety, partly to suit the character of different passages, and partly for our own refreshment and amusement. The reader should, however, clearly understand that a change of metres implies no corresponding change in the original, of which the metre is the same throughout.

The unrhymed portion, which forms the bulk of the translation, and does not aspire to the dignity of being called blank verse, is more condensed than the rhymed, though the proportion of English to Persian is constantly varying; sometimes a whole couplet in the original is best expressed by a single line in the translation; sometimes a line and a half, two lines or more in the translation go to the couplet in the original. The average may be roughly stated as three English lines to two Persian couplets. The result of these various economies is that our translation is some twenty-five per cent. shorter than otherwise it would have been.

We have followed the text of V as far as if goes, silently incorporating with it all the changes and additions made by the editor himself in his notes and in his Apparatus Criticus at the end of his first volume, subject of course to the heads of omissions stated above and to the occasional adoption of readings from other texts. These, we hope, we have invariably noted.

When the text of V failed us we fell back upon that of C, as to which we reserve any remarks that we may find it necessary to make till the volume of our translation is reached in which the change of text occurs.

The attention of the reader is called to the following points:—

1. It is hoped that the Introduction may prove sufficient for those who wish to read the Sháhnáma in its English dress but have no previous acquaintance with the subject. They will find notes prefixed to the principal divisions of the poem, but it has been thought desirable to avoid footnotes, as far as possible, to the translation itself.

2. The passages that need the most constant elucidation are those of a descriptive, figurative, or metaphorical character. An attempt has been made to explain the principal of these once for all in the previous chapter. Such passages often might have been made self-explanatory by a sufficient sacrifice of the imagery of the original. It has seemed to us, however, better to say that the Sháh dropped the ball into the cup⁷⁹ or bestowed the kettledrums upon some one, than that the Sháh gave the signal for the host to move or appointed some one commander-in-chief.

3. The structure of the Persian language is very loose grammatically. One form, for instance, stands for he, she, and it. For the sake of clearness we have often substituted the noun for the pronoun. Of course this involves a certain amount of interpretation, and differences of opinion in some cases legitimately may exist as to who or what the person or thing referred to may be. On the other hand, we often find a noun where in English we should use a pronoun, and we have constantly made the substitution in passages where no doubt can arise in the reader's mind. Again the couplet-form in which the poem is written has a tendency to break it up into a succession of short sentences, and this, added to the above-mentioned use of the noun where we should naturally use the pronoun and to the paucity of connecting particles, frequently makes the transition from sentence to sentence somewhat abrupt and the line of thought difficult to follow. Often we have carried on sentences by the addition of connecting particles which are not in the original.

4. We desire to make some explanations with regard to certain important words in the original.

Báj and Zamzam. By these terms is known a certain practice of Zoroastrians which may be paraphrased in English as “taking prayer inwardly.” Before eating, washing. &c., it is customary to mutter the beginning of some sacred formula, to carry through the operation in complete silence, and then to utter the rest of the formula aloud.⁸⁰ We have employed such expressions as “muttering” or “muttered prayer” to describe the practice. It is sometimes used as a pretext for obtaining a few moments' private conversation.

Barsam. This was formerly a bundle of twigs, but now of metal wires varying in number according to circumstances, held in the hand during the performance of certain religious rites of the Zoroastrians.^80a The practice is clearly referred to in Ezekiel viii. 16, 17. We translate “Barsam” by “the sacred twigs.”

Dakhma. Firdausí does not use this word in its proper sense—that in which it is still used by the Parsís at the present day—but in that of mausoleum, charnel, or charnel-house, and we have so translated it.⁸¹

Dihkán. The general sense of this word is that of countryman as distinguished from townsman. Owing, however, to the fact that the rural class in Írán as elsewhere were the chief repositories of the traditions and folklore of their native land, which were handed down orally and recited at local gatherings by those best qualified for the task, the word came to have the secondary meaning of bard or minstrel, and we have rendered it according to its first or secondary meaning as the sense of the passage required.

Dínár and Diram. Of these the dínár was a gold and the diram a silver coin. The Attic drachma was made the basis of his monetary system by Alexander the Great, and Persia possessed no native gold coinage till more than five centuries later. It then obtained one by accident. By the terms of peace between Ardawán (Artabanus), the last Parthian monarch, and the Emperor Macrinus, after the great battle of Nisibis in A.D. 217, the latter agreed to pay to the former an indemnity of more than a million and a half of our money. The sum seems to have been chiefly paid in aurei. Consequently when Ardshír Pápakán (Artaxerxes) became the first Sháh of the new native Persian (Sásánian) dynasty in A.D. 226 he found the country flooded with two distinct coinages with no recognised relation between them except the rough and ready one of commerce. He seems to have left matters to settle themselves, and in his own coinage followed the type of the aureus for his gold coins and that of the drachma for his silver.^81a The expression “dínárs and dirams” is one frequently met with in the poem, and as it is rather an inconvenient one metrically we have substituted the older form “drachm” for “diram.”

Dív. We retain this word as in the original. When spelt with a capital it is to be regarded as equivalent to Áhriman or Iblís, except in the collocations “Black Dív” and “White Dív.” When spelt with a small letter it may mean either a demon or a member of some savage or outlandish tribe.⁸²

Farr. The “farr” was regarded as the special divine endowment of the Íránian race—the favoured people of Urmuzd—and as an object of envy or ambition to the neighbouring peoples. It was regarded in the Zandavasta as something material, that could be sought, seized, and carried off, and even in the Sháhnáma we find a few occasions when it assumes a visible form. Each of the three primitive castes into which the Íránians were divided had its own special “farr,” while the Sháh united all three in his own person, and the possession of the threefold “farr” constituted his title to the throne. There is an instance in the present volume where after the death of a Sháh his two sons are both passed over in the succession as not being possessed of the “farr.” Firdausí, it should be noted, gives himself great latitude in the use of this and many other expressions, but wherever the word appears to be used in its correct sense we render it by “Grace” or “Glory.”

Farsang. The farsang is a measure of length, and we have always translated it as “league,” although it is about three-quarters of a mile longer than our English league.

Khil'at. The word properly means a robe bestowed by a ruler from his own wardrobe on some one as a sign of special favour. As it was accompanied by other gifts it came to mean gifts generally when bestowed by the ruler on a subject. We usually translate the word as “robe of honour.”

Maidán. This word properly means a level piece of ground attached to palaces or cities and used for purposes of exercise or pastime. Hence it comes to mean any level stretch of country, the space between two hostile hosts on which opposing champions would ride out and contend, a battlefield, park, &c. We have adopted various translations of the word to express these various meanings.

Múbid. The word properly means a chief priest of the Magi, but is often merely equivalent to “sage,” and is sometimes used of priests of other religious denominations. When used in its proper sense we translate it by “archmage” or “archimage,” when used generally by “priest.” The expression “múbid-i múbi-dán,” i.e. chief of the múbids, we always translate by “high priest.”

Pahlaví and Pahlaván. The first of these two words has been already explained.⁸³ We render it by such phrases as “olden tongue,” &c. The second is applied by Firdausí to all his chief Íránian characters other than the Sháhs, for the Pahlaván was essentially a subject. The chief Pahlaván was the protagonist or champion of the race for the time being but not necessarily commander-in-chief. Sometimes he was kept in reserve as a last resort when matters were going very badly. The office was hereditary in the heroic family of Garshásp, and Rustam, with whom its mythic glory becomes extinct, was its chief exponent. We translate by “paladin.”

Parí. It is hard to realise that this word, which in Arab lips would become “Fari,” is not connected with “fairy,” but it appears that for the etymology of the latter we must go to the Latin “Fata.” In meaning, however, our “fairy” and “fay” are the nearest English equivalents, and we have so rendered the word.

Saráparda.—We translate this word by “camp enclosure.” The saráparda was a screen of canvas or other material encircling an encampment.

5. Some of the chief characters in the poem are known in the original by several titles. Zál, the father of Rustam, is also called Zál-i-Zar, Dastán-i-Zand, Dastán-i-Sám, or simply Dastán; Rustam himself is frequently referred to as the son of Zál, the Elephant-bodied, the Matchless, &c., and there are other instances of duplicate names. To follow the original in this respect would involve the English reader in hopeless confusion, and we have therefore in such cases selected one name for a character and kept to it, or if we employ a duplicate we only do it in such a context that no doubt is possible as to the identity of the person referred to.

Again, the poet uses the word Sháh in a very wide connection, but we employ it only when one of the forty-nine rulers of Írán or the Sultán Mahmúd is referred to. Where the word is applied to others than the above we translate it by king or monarch, &c. We have carried out the same principle in other cases where it seemed to us that obscurity might arise. The above are merely given as instances.

6. With regard to the spelling of proper names we have followed the original with a few exceptions. We have kept Cæsar instead of Kaisar, Rúman instead of Rúmí, Indian instead of Hindí, and there may be a few more instances.⁸⁴

For Khákán we invariably substitute the shorter form Khán, as the expression “the Khákán of Chín” is inconvenient metrically.

In the Persian the letter k in the word Kábul for instance is a different letter from that beginning the name of the hero Káran, which in accord to present usage should be spelt Qáran. Similarly the z in the word Zábul is a different letter from that in Ázargashasp, but we thought that on the whole it was better not to make such distinctions.

7. In cases in which it seemed to us that ambiguity might arise we have spelt words used metaphorically with a capital letter.

8. Those who desire to compare our translation with the original will find on the pages of the former references to the corresponding pages of the latter. For instance, V. 233 against a line indicates the beginning of that page in Vullers' edition of the text.

9. A note on pronunciation will be found immediately preceding the translation in each volume.

10. The headings of the reigns, parts, and sections are reprinted at the end of the volume to serve as a Table of Contents.

11. A list of some previous translations, the old Persian calendar, some genealogical tables, and a note on abbreviations are appended.

12. Finally we have to ask our readers not to judge, and in all probability condemn, this work on the strength of its first few pages. The Prelude and the initial reigns are most difficult to make anything of in a translation. This is not wholly our own fault. The poet himself, as readers of the original will bear witness, labours heavily, embarrassed perhaps by the character of his subject-matter. “The poem,” says Professor Nöldeke, “does not obtain real life till the reign of Jamshíd.”⁸⁵ In spite of the heroic tale of Káwa the smith, and the pathetic misadventure of Íraj, and much else that is both curious and interesting, we should be inclined to put the beginning of the “real life” later still. At all events the reader will find the poem growing in interest reign by reign till poet and poem appear at their best in the charming tale which fills for us the reign of Minúchihr.

MOHL, already referred to, p. 76.

PIZZI, Firdusi. Il Libro dei Rei. Vols. i.–viii. Torino, 1886– 1888. [This is a complete metrical translation with an elaborate Introduction.]

GÖRRES, Das Heldenbuch von Iran aus den Schah Nameh des Firdusi. Berlin, 1820. [The translation extends from the beginning of the history to the death of Rustam. It has a long and strange Introduction and a quaint map of the scene of the Sháhnáma.]

SCHACK, Heldensagen von Firdausi. Berlin, 1865. [The translation extends from Farídún to the death of Rustam.]

RUCKERT, Firdosi's Königsbuch. Sage i.–xxvi. Berlin, 1890– 1895. [this extends as far as Rustam and Suhráb.]

JONES, Commentarii poëseos Asiaticae. London, 1774. [In this work some passages from the Sháhnáma are translated for the first time into an European language.]

CHAMPION, The Poems of Ferdosi. Calcutta, 1785. [The translation extends from the beginning of the history to the birth of Rustam.]

ATKINSON, Sooráb. Calcutta, 1814. The Sháh Námeh translated and abridged in prose and verse. London, 1832. [This work gives a summary of the history, with short passages of translation interspersed, up to the death of Sikandar (Alexander the Great).]

WESTON, Episodes of the Schah-nameh of Ferdosee. 1815.

ROBERTSON, Roostum Zeboolah and Sohrab. 1829.

THE old Persian year was solar and began at the vernal equinox. It consisted of 365 days divided into 12 months of 30 days each, the five extra days being added after the completion of the twelfth month to fill up the time till the sun should re-enter Aries, and spring and the new year begin on the 21st of March. Each day of the month had its special genius presiding over it, after whom it was named, thus:—

Of these thirty genii twelve were chosen to give their names to the months as well, thus:—

Thus the day Sapandármad of the month Khurdád would be equivalent to May 24th, and the day Khurdád of the month Sapandármad to February 19th.

Time was reckoned by days and nights, not by nights and days as among the Jews and Muhammadans.

The twenty-four hours of the day and night were divided into eight watches of three hours each.

The poet, after invoking the name of God and praising Him and His wisdom, discourses of the world, of man, of the sun and moon, of the Prophet and his companions, of the compilation of the Sháhnáma, of the poet Dakíkí, and of his own labours in connection with the poem, concluding with the praises of his patrons.

§ 5. We read in the Zandavasta: “It (the sky) looks like a palace, that stands built of a heavenly substance, firmly established, with ends that lie afar, shining with its body of ruby over the three-thirds (of the earth).”⁹⁹

§ 7. For 'Alí see p. 12. Muhammadans are divided into many sects. Muhammad is referred to as the lord of the sacred law, i.e. the Kurán, of stream, milk, &c. We read there: “A picture of the Paradise which is promised to the God-fearing! Therein are rivers of water which corrupt not; and rivers of milk whose taste changeth not; and rivers of wine delicious to those that quaff it; and rivers of honey clarified: and therein are all kinds of fruit for them, and forgiveness from their lord.”^99a

§ 10. The name of Firdausí's friend who procured for him the Sháhnáma of Abú Mansúr (see pp. 67–69) is said to have been Muhammad Lashkarí.^99b

§ 11. Abú Mansúr, son of Muhammad, may have been the son of the Muhammad, son of Abdú'r-Razzák, who had the prose Sháhnáma compiled (see p. 68), if the heading can be trusted.

§ 12. Abú'l Kásim, i.e. Firdausí himself. The conquest of Kannúj took place after the completion of the Sháhnáma and in days when Firdausí was in exile. The mention of Kannúj appear to be a flattering anticipation of events on the poet's part.¹⁰⁰

The “trusty minister” was no doubt Abú'l 'Abbás Fazl.

“The gardens of Iram” were said to have been built by Shaddad son of Ad, that he might anticipate on earth the joys promised him in Paradise by the prophet Húd. After toil extending over centuries the work was completed, but as Shaddad was on the point of entering into possession, he and all his host were slain by a voice from heaven.^100a

Nasiru'd-Dín, i.e. Subuktigín (see p. 20).

Nasr, Mahmúd's youngest brother, acted as commander-in-chief, and governed the province of Níshápúr. After some years of successful administration he was recalled to court and served his brother in various capacities. He was a patron of learning and died young.^100b

“The prince of Tús” appears to have been Arslán Jázib, one of Sultán Mahmúd's most famous generals.

IN the name of the Lord of both wisdom and mind,
To nothing sublimer can thought be applied,
The Lord of whatever is named or assigned
A place, the Sustainer of all and the Guide,
The Lord of Saturn and the turning sky,
Who causeth Venus, Sun, and Moon to shine,
Who is above conception, name, or sign,
The Artist of the heaven's jewelry!
Him thou canst see not though thy sight thou strain,
For thought itself will struggle to attain
To One above all name and place in vain,
Since mind and wisdom fail to penetrate
Beyond our elements, but operate
On matters that the senses render plain.
None then can praise God as He is. Observe
Thy duty: 'tis to gird thyself to serve.
He weigheth mind and wisdom; should He be
Encompassed by a thought that He hath weighed?
Can He be praised by such machinery
As this, with mind or soul or reason's aid?
Confess His being but affirm no more,

Speak, sage! the praise of wisdom and rejoice
The hearts of those that hearken to thy voice,
As God's best gift to thee extol the worth
Of wisdom, which will comfort thee and guide,
And lead thee by the hand in heaven and earth.
Both joy and grief, and gain and loss, betide
Therefrom, and when it is eclipsed the sane
Know not of happiness one moment more.
Thus saith the wise and virtuous man of lore
Lest sages search his words for fruit in vain:—
“What man soever spurneth wisdom's rede
Will by so doing make his own heart bleed;
The prudent speak of him as one possessed,
And ‘he is not of us’ his kin protest.”
In both worlds wisdom recommendeth thee
When gyves are on the ankles of the mad;
It is the mind's eye; if thou dost not see
Therewith thy journey through this world is sad.
It was the first created thing, and still
Presideth o'er the mind and faculty
Of praise—praise offered by tongue, ear, and eye,
All causes it may be of good or ill.
To praise both mind and wisdom who would dare?
And if I venture, who would hear me through?
Since then, O man of wisdom! thou canst do
No good by words hereon, proceed, declare

The first thing needful for thee is to know
The sum of primal elements which He,
Who maketh all things, made from naught to show
The greatness of His own supremacy.
Those elements are fourfold; at their birth
No time elapsed and labour had no share;
Fire shone above, and in the midst were air
And water; underneath was dusky earth.
Fire was the first its virtue to unfold;
About it moisture ceased and dryness came;
Then fire where'er it failed made way for cold,
And moisture followed cold.

Even so the frame

Of this our Wayside Hostelry was made.
When these four primal elements combined,
They wrought, each on the rest, till every kind
Of products as we see them was displayed.
The turning vault of heaven showed its face,
Exhibiting new wonders day by day,
The Seven Planets then began their sway
In yon Twelve Houses; each one took its place,
Foreboding good and ill, and giving fit
Return to every one that hath the wit
To read. The heavens, fettered sphere to sphere,
Moved as their making to completion came,
And then this earth, with mountain, desert, mere,
And upland, shone as 'twere a lamp aflame.
The mountains reared themselves, the streams gushed out,
While from the soíl the herbs began to sprout.
Our earth was not vouchsafed a lofty stead;
Obscurity and gloom prevailed around,

A farther step—man cometh into sight;
Locks had been made; he was the key of each.
With head erect and cypresslike in height,
Submiss to wisdom and endowed with speech,
Possessed of knowledge, wisdom, reasoning,
He ruleth other creatures as their king.
Observe awhile with wisdom for thy guide:
Doth “man” imply one nature, one alone?
Thou know'st it may be but the feeble side
Of mortal man, wherein no trace is shown
Of aught beyond, and yet two worlds agree—
A mighty partnership—to furnish thee.
By nature first, in order last, art thou;
Hold not thyself then lightly. I have known
Shrewd men speak otherwise, but who shall trow
The secrets that pertain to God alone?
Look to the end, act ever rightfully
And toil, since sloth and knowledge ne'er agree;
But if thou wouldst escape calamity,

Of ruby is yon azure dome, not made
Of air and water, dust and smoke; 'tis all
With lamp and torch in many a spot arrayed
Like gardens for the New Year's festival.
Within the dome a gladdening Gem behold
Revolving; thence the light of day is spread,
And every morning like a shield of gold
It raiseth from the East its shining head;
The earth is clad in robes of spreading light,
The sun declineth and there cometh night;
Day ne'er o'ertaketh night, nor night the day,
Most regular in all their movements they.
O thou my Sun! hast thou for me no ray?

Though night be dark there is a light assured:
See that thou use it not unworthily.
Two days and nights its features are obscured,
Worn soothly by revolving; presently
'Tis seen again but pallid, thin, and backed,
Like one who by the pangs of love is racked.

The Faith and knowledge trusty guides are they,
And 'tis for thee to seek Salvation's way;
If thou wouldst have thy heart not sad, not see
Thy spirit wretched through eternity,
To take the Prophet's teaching be thy part,
There wash away the darkness of thy heart.
What was it that He said, the inspiréd Lord,
Of bidding and forbidding—Heaven's own word?
“I am the City of the Doctrine, he
That is the gateway to it is 'Alí.”
I witness that His heart is in that word
As though, as thou mayst say, His voice I heard.
Regard then each companion and 'Alí
As those that gave the Faith stability;
These are the moons, the Prophet is the sun;
With them in union is the way to run.
Slave of the Prophet's slaves with praise I greet
The dust upon his mandatary's feet,

All have gone sweeping in the garth of lore
And what I tell hath all been told before,
But though upon a fruit-tree I obtain
No place, and purpose not to climb, still he
That sheltereth beneath a lofty tree
Will from its shadow some protection gain;
A footing on the boughs too I may find
Of yonder shady cypress after all
For having left this history behind
Of famous kings as my memorial.
Deem not these legends lying fantasy,
As if the world were always in one stay,
For most accord with sense, or anyway
Contain a moral.

In the days gone by

There was an Epic Cycle spread broadcast
Among the learned archmages, and at last
A certain paladin, of rustic birth,
A man of courage, wisdom, rank, and worth,
An antiquary, one who ransacked earth
For any legends of the ages past,
Intent on learning what might yet be known,
Called hoar archmages out of every clime,
To ask about the annals of the throne,
The famed successful heroes of old time,
What men were doing in those days that we
Inherit such a world of misery,
And how each day beneath auspicious skies
They carried out some daring enterprise.
The archmages told their legendary store,
How this world fared and what kings undertook,
And as he listened to the men of lore
He laid the basis of the famous book,
Which now remaineth his memorial,
Amid the plaudits both of great and small.

Now, when the readers of the book had brought
The stories into vogue, all hearts were caught,
At least among the men of parts and thought.

Mine ardent heart turned, when Dakíkí fell,
Spontaneously toward the Íránian throne;
“If I can get the book I will retell,”
I said, “the tales in language of mine own.”
I asked of persons more than I can say,
For I was fearful as time passed away
That life would not suffice, but that I too
Should leave the work for other hands to do.
There was besides a dearth of patronage
For such a work; there was no purchaser.
It was a time of war, a straitened age
For those who had petitions to prefer.
Much time elapsed. I still concealed from all
My secret purpose, for I could not see
One who was worthy to partake with me
This enterprise. What in this world can be
More excellent than noble words? Men call
Down blessings on them, men both great and small.
Good words had God vouchsafed not to provide,
How had the Prophet ever been our guide?

When I obtained the volume a grandee
Of noble lineage and conspicuous worth,
Still in his youth, a paladin by birth,
Possessing prudence, wit, and energy,
A lord of counsel and of modesty,
To hear whose gentle accents was my joy,
Said unto me: “What means can I employ
To make thee give thy life to poetry?
I will do all and hide thy poverty.”
He used to tender me as one would tend
Ripe apples, lest a breath of wind should spoil;
Thus through that noble and kind-hearted friend
I soared to Saturn from our grimy soil.
In his eyes gold and silver were as dust
While rank gained lustre. Earth seemed vile indeed
Before him. He was brave and one to trust,
And when he perished was as in a mead
A lofty cypress levelled by a gust.
I see no trace of him alive or dead;
By murderous Crocodiles his life was sped.
Woe for that girdle and that girdlestead,
That royal mien, that high imporial head!
Bereft of him my heart's hopes ceased to be,
My spirit quivered like a willow-tree;

Ne'er, since the making of the world was done,
Hath such a king been seen by human eye;
The crown above his throne is like the sun,
And maketh earth as bright as ivory.
How canst thou say: “It is the sun indeed”?
From him by far more glorious rays proceed.
Abú'l Kásim! this all-victorious one
Hath set his throne yet higher than the sun!
His are the rays which illustrate the sky,
His is the Grace which openeth afar
Yon mines of gold.

Awoke my slumbering star.

Ideas poured through my brain tumultuously.
Methought: “The time for speaking in good sooth
Hath come, the outworn age regaineth youth.”
By thoughts of this great monarch occupied
I fell asleep one night with lips all praise,
While my free heart, although my lips were tied,
Shone in the dark. Then I beheld in sleep
A dazzling lustre rising from the deep
And making by the brightness of its rays
The gloom of earth like glittering gems. The waste
Grew like brocade beneath that radiant light,
And in the midst a turquoise throne was placed.
Upon the throne there sat a moon-like king
With on his head a crown for covering.
His army stretched two miles. To left there were
Seven hundred elephants in all their might.

Now to the opening of my work once more
To tell the tales of famous kings of yore.

The poet tells the history of the first ten Sháhs of Írán, describes the progress of the world from barbarism to culture, and the invention of the arts and sciences, and finally how the Grace departed from the Pishdádian Dynasty through the unworthiness and degeneracy of its representatives.

The word Pishdádian, the name given to the Sháhs of the first Iránian Dynasty, means those of the old law or original dispensation. Zoroastrianism was built upon an older foundation of nature-worship, to which it bears some such relation as the New Testament bears to the Old. One of the gods of the elder faith— Ahura, the Asura of India—became the supreme deity, Ahura Mazda, of the new dispensation, and the Urmuzd of the Sháhnáma. Accordingly Gaiúmart, the first Sháh in the poem, is expressly recognised in the Zandavasta, as the first worshipper of Urmuzd.¹¹⁶ Húshang, the second Sháh, institutes the worship of fire—a characteristic feature of Zoroastrianism. Urmuzd in the Zanda-vasta makes a covenant with Yima, the fourth Sháh, and tries to persuade him to undertake the part of lawgiver afterwards taken by Zoroaster, but Yima through modesty declines.

Zoroastrianism therefore in a sense existed before Zoroaster, with whose advent the Zandavasta ends; hence there is less anachronism than might be supposed in the allusions, often made in the earlier parts of the poem, to fire-worship, the Zandavasta, and similar matters. Zoroaster was the first recipient of the complete revelation.

Gaiúmart, the first Sháh and the first ruler of the world, incurs the envy of Áhriman, who sends a host of dívs to attack him, commanded by the Black Dív—the son of Áhriman. Siyámak, the son of Gaiúmart, with an army encounters the Black Dív and is slain, but is avenged by his son Húshang, who succeeds to the throne on the death of his grandfather.

The poet in his account of Gaiúmart omits much Zoroastrian lore. In the Bundahish Urmuzd is represented as first creating two beings—the representatives of mankind, and of the animals and plants, respectively. These were Gaiúmart and the Primeval Ox. For three thousand years they lived happily and unmolested in the world of Urmuzd. At the expiration of this period Áhriman assailed the creation of Urmuzd, and slew both the Ox and Gaiúmart; but the latter survived the former by thirty years, which became the duration of the reign of the first Sháh in the poem. The Ox in dying gave origin to the plants and animals, and Gaiúmart to the first human couple—Máshya¹¹⁷ and Máshyóí— who in turn produced offspring among which was Siyámak, who is represented as the son of Gaiúmart in the Sháhnáma. In the poem, too, the attack on Gaiúmart is made indirectly by means of the Black Dív, not directly by Áhriman as in the Bundahish. The reader may be reminded that the Bundahish is a Pahlaví version of the lost book of the Zandavasta known as the Dámdád or “races produced.”

It will be noticed that Gaiúmart is stated to have made his home upon a mountain. Mountains were looked upon as sacred places in old times as being nearer heaven. Urmuzd reveals the Zanda-vasta to Zoroaster on the mountain of the holy Questions.¹¹⁸ In the division of mankind into castes in the reign of Jamshíd the mountains are specially set apart for the priests. The mother of Farídún with her infant son takes refuge with a holy hermit who dwells on Mount Alburz, and there too Kai Kubád, the founder of the Kaiánian Dynasty, receives the news of his election to the throne.

What saith the rustic bard? Who first designed
To gain the crown of power among mankind?

He had a son

Named Siyámak, ambitious like his sire,
A youth well favoured, skilled, and fortunate,
His father's Life, whose joy was gazing on him,
That fruitful offshoot of the ancient stem.
That Life the father cherished tenderly,
And wept for love, consumed by dread of parting.
Thus time passed onward and the kingdom prospered,

News of that foul dív's acts reached Siyámak,
Who listened eagerly; his heart seethed up
With rage. He gathered troops, arrayed himself
In leopard-skin, for mail was yet unworn,
And went to fight. When host met host he came
In front unarmed to grapple with the son
Of Áhriman. That horrible Black Dív
Clutched at, bent down that prince of lofty stature
And rent him open. Thus died Siyámak
By that foul hand and left the army chiefless.
When Gaiúmart heard this the world turned black
To him, he left his throne, he wailed aloud
And tore his face and body with his nails;

The blesséd Siyámak had left a son,
His grandsire's minister, a prince by name
Húshang—a name implying sense and wisdom.
It was the lost restored and fondly cherished,
And therefore being set on war the Sháh
Sent for the prince and frankly told him all:—
“I mean to gather troops and raise the war-cry,

Húshang succeeds his grandfather Gaiúmart as Sháh. He is a great culture-hero, and invents the arts of working in metals, irrigation, agriculture, &c. He introduces the use of domestic animals and discovers fire. He institutes its worship, and founds the feast of Sada.

Húshang—the Haoshyangha of the Zandavasta—is, according to the older authorities, the first Sháh of the Pishdádian dynasty, and the grandson, not the son, of Siyámak. Siyámak and his wife Nashák produced a pair named Fravák and Fravákaín, who produced in their turn fifteen pairs. Of these, nine pairs proceeded on the back of the ox Sarsaok through the ocean—the chain of rivers, lakes, seas, and gulfs surrounding the central clime in the old cosmogony—to the other six climes and stayed there, while the other six pairs, of whom Húshang and his wife Gúzhak were one, remained to people the central clime within which Irán is situated.¹²²

Húshang, a just and prudent sovereign,

He civilised the world,

And filled the surface of the earth with justice.
He was the first to deal with minerals
And win the iron from the rock by craft.
He gained more knowledge and, inventing smithing,
Made axes, saws, and mattocks. Next he turned
To irrigation by canals and ducts;
Grace made the labour short. As knowledge grew
Men sowed and reaped and planted. Each produced
The loaf whereof he ate, and kept his station.
Till then men lived on fruit in poor estate
And clad themselves in leaves. Religious rites
Existed, Gaiúmart had worshipped God.
Húshang first showed the fire within the stone,
And thence through all the world its radiance shone.

One day he reached a mountain with his men
And saw afar a long swift dusky form

Tahmúras, the son of Húshang, continues his father's work as a culture-hero, in the domestication of animals, the invention of weaving, &c., conquers and enslaves Áhriman, and defeats the dívs, whose lives he spares on condition that they shall teach him the art of writing.

According to the Bundahish, Tahmúras—the Takhma Urupa of the Zandavasta—was the great grandson of Húshang, and the brother of Jamshíd, who, however, is represented as his son in the poem. The legend of the binding of Áhriman by Tahmúras is several times mentioned in the Zandavasta, where he is represented as praying that he may conquer all demons and men, all sorcerers and fairies, and ride Áhriman, turned into the shape of a horse, all around the earth for thirty years.¹²⁵ From other sources we learn that Áhriman, while kept as a charger by Tahmúras, persuaded the latter's wife to reveal her husband's secrets, and acting on the information thus gained threw off Tahmúras and swallowed him while he was riding down Mount Alburz. Yim (Jamshíd), hearing of his brother's misfortune, succeeded in dragging the corpse from the entrails of the fiend, and thus restored the culture of the world which had perished with Tahmúras.^125a

The reader will note the reappearance of the Black Dív in this reign after his apparently complete destruction by Húshang. The explanation of course is that the aim of the poet is to follow his authorities, not to make consistent stories. He is here dealing with another legend, so the Black Dív reappears.^125b

Húshang possessed a wise and noble son
Hight Tahmúras—the Binder of the Dív—
Who took the throne and girt his loins to rule,
Then called the archmages and in gracious words
Said: “Throne and palace, crown and mace and cap
Are mine to-day, and when my rede hath purged
The world a mountain-top shall be my footstool.
I will restrain the Dív, will reign supreme,
And use the useful for the common good.”
He sheared the flocks, and men began to spin;
He thus invented clothes and draperies.
He chose the swiftest quadrupeds and made them
To feed on barley, grass, and hay; he noted

He gave them quarter

To learn their secret. When they were released
They had to serve him, lit his mind with knowledge
And taught him how to write some thirty scripts
Such as the Rúman, Persian, Arabic,
Sughdí, Chíní, and Pahlaví, and thus
Delineate sounds. How many better arts
Explored he in a reign of thirty years,
Yet passed away! His time of life was spent
And all his toils became his monument.
O world! caress not those whom thou wilt soon
Cut off, for such caressing is no boon;
Thou raisest one to very heaven on high,
Then biddest him in sorry dust to lie.

Jamshíd succeeds his father Tahmúras as Sháh, and becomes the greatest and most famous of the culture-heroes. He continues the work of his predecessors, makes additions of his own, and introduces the luxuries and refinements of life. He divides mankind into four castes or classes. He travels over the world, and is the first to cross the sea in ships. He aspires to the dominion of the air, obtains it, and lives in ever closer communion with God. Áhriman is rendered powerless for ill, disease and death cease, and the world passes through the Golden Age. At length, spoiled by success, Jamshíd comes to think himself God, and orders that divine honours shall be paid to himself alone. The Grace of God abandons him. Áhriman is unchained and incites Zahhák, who has become his instrument, to make war on Jamshíd, and the latter is slain.

Jamshíd, as we have already seen, is the brother, not the son, of Tahmúras in the older form of the legends. With the reign of Jamshíd the Vedas, Zandavasta, and Sháhnáma meet on common ground. In the Vedas Manu and Yama are the twin sons o Vivasvat, the bright or shining one, i.e. the sun. Manu is the progenitor and lawgiver of the Aryan race and Yama is a god.¹²⁹ In the Zandavasta Yima is the son of Vívanghat, is the Íránian Noah, has a covenant with God, and is offered by Him the post afterwards accepted by Zoroaster. In the legend of the building of his Var, or underground palace, in anticipation of the Flood, we have the origin of Firdausí's account of the architectural achievements of Jamshíd: “Then Yima said within himself: ‘How shall I manage to make that Vara which Ahura Mazda has commanded me to make?’ And Ahura Mazda said unto Yima: ‘O fair Yima, son of Vívanghat! Crush the earth with a stamp of thy heel, and then knead it with thy hands, as the potter does when kneading the potter's clay…’ And Yima made a Vara, long as a riding-ground, on every side of the square… There he established dwelling-places, consisting of a house with a balcony, a courtyard, and a gallery. In the largest part of the place he made nine streets, six in the middle part, three in the smallest.”¹³⁰

He is described as “the bright Yima, the good shepherd … he ruled over the seven Karshvares (Climes) of the earth, over the Daévas (demons) and men… He who took from the Daévas both riches and welfare, both fatness and flocks, both weal and Glory. In whose reign both aliments (food and drink) were never failing for feeding creatures, flocks and men were undying, waters and plants were undrying; in whose reign there was neither cold wind nor hot wind, neither old age nor death, nor envy made by the Daévas, in the times before his lie, before he began to have delight in words of falsehood and untruth. But when he began to have delight in words of falsehood and untruth, the Glory was seen to flee away from him in the shape of a bird. When his Glory had disappeared, then the great Yima … the good shepherd, trembled and was in sorrow before his foes; he was confounded, and laid him down on the ground.”^130a Elsewhere his being sawn asunder is mentioned, the act not being referred directly to Zahhák but to Spityura, “he who sawed Yima in twain.”^130b

Spityura was a brother of Yima's. He is not mentioned in the Sháhnáma; but the enmity between brothers, so characteristic of Eastern life, crops up again and again in the poem. Thus the two brothers of Farídún envy and try to murder him, and the incident recurs with more disastrous results in the case of Farídún's own sons.

The division into castes also appears in the Zandavasta, where both the three and the four castes are mentioned, and the first three are there stated to have been instituted by Zoroaster, who placed his three earthly sons at the head of them.^130c In the poem they are the institution of his great predecessor Jamshíd.

Jamshíd is a contraction of Yima and Khshaéta (king).^130d

For Iblís, see Introduction, p. 70.

Zahhák will be dealt with under his proper head; but it may be pointed out with regard to the strange story of his second fall, owing to the pleasures of the table, that in the Bundahish Máshya and Máshyóí—the original human pair—who apparently at first lived entirely on water, are incited to partake of stronger meats owing to their relish for the weaker sorts being taken from them by the demons.^130e

Elsewhere in the same work we read: “On the nature of the resurrection and future existence it says in revelation, that, whereas Máshya and Máshyóí … first fed upon water, then plants, then milk, and then meat, men also when their time of death has come, first desist from eating meat, then milk, then from bread, till when they shall die they always feed upon water. So, likewise, in the millennium… They will desist from meat food, and eat vegetables and milk; afterwards they abstain from milk food and abstain from vegetable food, and are feeding on water; and for ten years before Sóshyans comes they remain without food, and do not die.”^130f

Sóshyans is the third of the divine sons of Zoroaster, and the Messiah of Zoroastrianism. There is plenty in the above extract to account for such a legend as that of the text.

Jamshíd, the mighty son of Tahmúras,
Full of his father's maxims, girt himself,
Succeeded to his glorious father's throne,
And wore in kingly wise the crown of gold.
His girdle was the Grace of king of kings,
And all the world obeyed him, contests ceased,
The age had rest, and bird and dív and fairy
Were his to bid, the world took added lustre,
Through him the throne of Sháhs was glorified.
“Mine is the Grace,” he said, “I am both king
And archimage, I will restrain ill-doers
And make for souls a path toward the light.”
He first wrought arms and oped for warriors
The door of fame. His Grace made iron yield;
He fashioned it to helmets, hauberks, breastplates,
And coats of armour both for man and horse.
His ardent mind achieved the work and made
Good store in fifty years. Another fifty
He spent on raiment fit for fight or feast;
And made of spun and floss silk, hair and cotton,
Fine fabrics, cloth of hair and rich brocade.
He taught to spin and weave, and when the stuffs
Were made he showed men how to full and sew them
Then to the joy of all he founded castes

One of the desert spear-armed Bedouins

The youth made answer:—

“Tell me at once, my worthy monitor!”

“Then thou,” Iblís rejoined,

“Art perjured and wilt still be despicable,
Thy father honoured.”

Thus he snared the Arab,

Who asked: “What must I do? I will obey.”
Iblís replied: “Leave me to scheme. Thy head
Shall touch the sun. I only ask thy silence;
No help need I, myself am competent,
But keep the sword of speech within the scabbard.”
Now in the palace was a jocund garth,
And thither used Mardás to go at dawn
To bathe him ere he prayed, without a slave
To light him on his way, The wicked Dív,
Intent on ill, dug in the garden-path

Iblís encouraged thus

Began again and said: “Since thou hast turned
To me, and gained thy heart's desire, come pledge me
Thy word once more to do as I require;
And then thy realm shall spread throughout the world,
Birds, beasts, and fishes shall be all thine own.”
When this was said he set about to use,
Most marvellous! another kind of ruse.

Then as a youth well spoken, clean, and clever,
Iblís went to Zahhák with fawning words,
“Let me,” he said, “who am a noted cook,
Find favour with the king.”

By appetite

Seduced, Zahhák received and welcomed him,
So that the monarch's faithful minister
Gave to Iblís the royal kitchen's key.
Foods then were few, men did not kill to eat
But lived on vegetals of all earth's produce;
So evil-doing Áhriman designed
To slaughter animals for food, and served
Both bird and beast. He fed the king on blood
To make him lion-fierce, and like a slave
Obeyed him. First he fed his lord on yelk
To make him strong; he liked the flavour much
And praised Iblís, who said: “Illustrious monarch!
For ever live! To-morrow I will serve thee
So as to please thee well.”

All night he mused

What strange repast to proffer on the morrow,
And when the azure vault brought back again
The golden Gem he hopefully presented
A meal of partridges and silver pheasants.

Off his guard Zahhák

Replied: “I grant it; it may do thee grace.”
Iblís received permission, kissed and vanished.
A marvel followed—from the monarch's shoulders
Grew two black snakes. Distraught he sought a cure
And in the end excised them, but they grew
Again! oh strange! like branches from a tree.
The ablest leeches gave advice in turn
And used their curious arts but all in vain.
At length Iblís himself came hurrying
Dight as a leech. “This was thy destiny,”
He said; “cut not the snakes but let them live.

Thereafter tumult, combating and strife
Arose throughout Írán, the bright day gloomed
And men renounced Jamshíd, who when his Grace
Was darkened turned to folly and perverseness.
Pretenders started up, on every march
The disaffected nobles levied troops
And strove. Some set forth for Arabia,
For they had heard: “There is a monarch there—
An awe-inspiring king of dragon-visage.”
Thus all the discontented cavaliers
Went to Zahhák and offered fealty,
Saluting him as monarch of Írán.
The king of dragon-visage came like wind
And donned the Íránian crown, collected troops—
The bravest of Arabia and Írán—
And having seized the throne of Sháh Jamshíd
Slipped on the world as 'twere a finger-ring.
Thus fell Jamshíd. Pressed by the world's new lord
He fled, surrendering crown, throne and treasure,
Host, power and diadem. The world turned black

With the accession of Zahhák evil becomes triumphant everywhere. He practises and encourages black arts, idolatry, and human sacrifice. He has a warning dream concerning his destined conqueror Farídún, whom he strives in vain to capture. At length the people, driven to exasperation by Zahhák, revolt to Farídún at the instigation of Káwa the smith. Farídún and Zahhák meet, and the latter is taken prisoner.

Zahhák, as we have already seen,¹⁴¹ was originally an evil spirit of the Indo-Íránian nature-worship. In the Zandavasta he still occasionally appears in his character of water-stealer. “Zarathustra asked Ardvi Súra Anáhita” (Anaitis, the good genius of the waters): “‘O Ardvi Súra Anáhita! With what manner of sacrifice shall I worship thee? … So that Mazda (Urmuzd) may make thee run down (to the earth), so that he may not make thee run up into the heavens, above the sun; and that the Serpent may not injure thee.’”^141a

More generally, however, he is represented as a fiend, created by Áhriman to vex the Iránian race, and carry off the light of sovereignty; while in the Sháhnáma he loses to a great extent his supernatural character, and is, as already has been pointed out,^141b the protagonist of the Semitic race in their dealings with the people of Írán. He is accordingly represented as a native of Arabia, to have invaded Írán, and to have had his capital at a city which is perhaps best identified with Babylon. We read in the Zandavasta: “To her (i.e. Anaitis) did Azi Daháka (Zahhák), the three-mouthed, offer up a sacrifice in the land of Bawri, with a hundred male horses, a thousand oxen, and ten thousand lambs. He begged of her a boon, saying: ‘Grant me this boon, O good, most beneficent Ardvi Súra Anáhita! that I may make all the seven Karshvares (Climes) of the earth empty of men.’ Ardvi Súra Anáhita did not grant him that boon… To her did Thraétaona (Farídún), the heir of the valiant Áthwya clan, offer up a sacrifice … saying: ‘Grant me this, O good, most beneficent Ardvi Súra Anáhita! that I may overcome Azi Daháka, the three-mouthed, the three-headed, the six-eyed … that demon, baleful to the world … that Angra Mainyu (Áhriman) created against the material world, to destroy the world of the good principle; and that I may deliver his two wives, Savanghavák (Shahrináz) and Erenavák (Arnawáz), who are the fairest of body amongst women, and the most wonderful creatures in the world.’”¹⁴²

Zahhák's palace is called in the Zandavasta Kvirinta, which may mean in the Avasta language “a stork.” There is a legend that the palace was in the form of that bird.^142a

We learn from the Dínkard that the legend of Zahhák was contained in the Kitradád and Súdkar Nasks of the Zandavasta. The latter Nask contained information “About the smiting by Frédún, for the sake of killing Dahák; the striking of his club upon the nape of the neck, the heart, and even the skull; and Dahák's not dying from that beating. Then smiting him with a sword, and the formation of noxious creatures of many kinds, from the body of Dahák, at the first, second, and third blow. The exclamation of the creator Aúharmazd to Frédún thus: ‘Thou shouldst not cut him who is Dahák, because if thou shouldst cut him, Dahák would be making this earth full of serpents, toads, scorpions, lizards, tortoises, and frogs;’ with the mode of binding him with awful fetters, in the most grievous punishment of confinement. This, too, that when Az-í Dahák was bound, the report of the same proceeded thus through all the regions, which are seven, that downstricken is Az-í Dahák, but he who smote him is Frédún the Áspikán, the exalted and mighty … and those which are evil do not mention Az, nor demand the virtuous maiden with importunity, nor even coveted wealth. This, too, that when information came to him of women or property, that seemed to him desirable to possess, they were then admitted by him into a golden cage.”¹⁴³

Zahhák is looked upon in the Sháhnáma as exemplifying in his own person all the chief characteristics of the non-Aryan peoples with whom the Íránians came in contact—idolatry, black arts, serpent-worship, and human sacrifice. It is a remarkable fact, as is pointed out by Fergusson,^143a that serpent-worship seems always to have been accompanied by human sacrifice. He also appears to consider that the former was essentially Túránian, not Aryan or Semitic, and he points out that in the bas-relief at Nakhs-i-Rustam, in which Urmuzd is represented as bestowing the crown on Ardshír Pápakán, the first Sháh of the Sásánian dynasty, the god is seated on a horse, and beneath his feet lies Ardawán, the last king of the Parthian dynasty, with two serpents round his head.^143b

In the Sháhnáma, however, Zahhák is essentially Semitic, and his reign of a thousand years may be taken as typifying that race in their relations to the Íránians from the earliest traditions of Assyrian oppression to the political overlordship of the Khalífas of Baghdad in the poet's own days.

The reader will notice that Zahhák is not slain by Farídún but imprisoned—a point indicative of his supernatural character; and also that the legend of Káwa the smith is, as one would naturally expect, a West Íránian tradition, as shown by its association with the city of Ispahán. The historical flag of the Persian empire, known as the flag of Káwa, the traditional origin of which will be found in the text, fell into the hands of the Muhammadans at the battle of Kádisiyya, A.D. 637. The natives of the town of Damáwand, situated on the south side of the mountain of that name, still celebrate a feast, called “Íd-i-Kúrdí,” or the Kúrds' Holiday, to commemorate the death of Zahhák,^143c while a cyclopean terrace in the neighbourhood is pointed out as the place where, in accord to Eastern usage, his drums were beaten at dawn.^143d

Zahhák's minister, Kundrav, has had a strange eventful mythological history. In the Vedas he appears as Gandháva, the divine guardian of the Soma—the sacred drink-offering, the Homa of Írán. In the Zandavasta he is a monstrous fiend or monster known as Gandarewa or Gandarep, the slaying of whom was one of the great feats of the ancient Íránian hero Garshásp.¹⁴⁴ In the Sháhnáma he is represented as a human being—the factotum of Zahhák. The two are a good illustration of the relationship that exists between Indian and Íránian mythology, between the Vedas and the Zandavasta, and of the genesis of the legends of the Sháhnáma.

Some readers may like to see the version of the legend of Zahhák as given in the Armenian History attributed to Moses of Chorene, which though subsequent to his time is probably centuries anterior to the Sháhnáma, and shows that the legend was known in all its essential features long before Firdausí's days. It runs thus in Whiston's Latin version of the original:—

“Quid autem tibi sunt voluptati viles ac vanae de Byraspe Astyage^144a fabulae? aut cur nobis ineptos atque insulsos, ac rationis expertes Persarum sermones, laborem imponis explicandi, nempe de primo ejus benefacto malefico, Daemoniisque ei ministrantibus, útque errorem & falsitatem frustrari non potuerit, ac super humerorum osculatione, unde Draconum ortus fuit, ac deinde flagitii frequentia homines per ventris usum perdidit; útque Rhodanes^144b quidem posteá catenis eum aeneis constrinxerit, atque in montem, qui vocatur Dembavendus, abduxerit … is qui scelera machinabatur, domi eum forîsque sine suspicione erudire solebat, in Byraspis humeris caput reponens, ac maleficas artes in aurem inculcans, unde in fabulis narrant, puerum Satanae, ministrum ei fuisse, ejúsque voluntati obsecundâsse; útque etiam subinde, quasi praemium ab eo postulans, humeros ejus oscu-laretur. Caeterùm quod narrant, Dracones pullulâsse, sive ipsum Byraspem in Draconen prorsus mutatum fuisse, ita res se habet. Quippe cum immanem hominum numerum Daemoniis ille immolare coepisset, indignabunda multitudo ab eo tandem abalienata fuit, ísque igitur communi omnium consensu pulsus, ad montem supra memoratum confugit. Ibi, cum acriùs premeretur, sua eum caterva deseruit, quâ re confisi, qui eum persecuti erant, dies aliquot in iis locis residerunt. At Byraspes, cohortem dispersam cogens, ad inopinantes impetum facit (sic) magnúmque attulit detrimentum; sed vicit tandem multitudo, & Byraspes se in fugam contulit, quem comprehensum propè eum montem peremerunt, atque in magnam sulphuris foveam conjecerunt.”^144c

For the mythological account of Abtín, the father of Farídún, see the introductory note to the next reign. His legend up to the point where it is taken up in the Sháhnáma may be briefly summarised as follows. He was the head of a family of Persian landowners or thanes who dwelt in the Alburz range to the south of the Caspian and claimed to be descended from Jamshíd. He began the war of independence against Zahhák, but after some success was forced to take refuge with the remnant of his adherents at the court of the king of Ghílán, who received him kindly, but, fearing the vengeance of Zahhák, subsequently furnished him with ships and provisions, and dismissed him to seek his fortune elsewhere. After a month's voyage on the Caspian Abtín arrived at the court of the king of the Scythians, whose daughter Farának fell in love with him. Incidents similar to those in the story of Zál and Rúdába in the present volume followed. In the end Abtín married Farának, by whom he had two sons, and lived happily and in high favour with his father-in-law. He could not rest, however. In dream after dream he was incited to resume the war of independence against Zahhák, and at length, in spite of the opposition of his father-in-law, set sail with wife, family, and adherents, and after various adventures landed near Ámul in Mázandarán, where he made his home in the surrounding forests. Here he gathered a band of followers and resumed his guerilla warfare against Zahhák, in the midst of which Farídún was born, the birth being heralded by many prodigies. At this point the Sháhnáma takes up the story.¹⁴⁵

Zahhák sat on the throne a thousand years
Obeyed by all the world. Through that long time
The customs of the wise were out of vogue,
The lusts of madmen flourished everywhere,
All virtue was despised, black art esteemed,
Right lost to sight, disaster manifest;
While dívs accomplished their fell purposes
And no man spake of good unless by stealth.
Two sisters of Jamshíd, their sex's crown,
Were brought out trembling like a willow-leaf.
Of those two ladies visaged like the moon
The names were Shahrináz and Arnawáz.
Men bore them to the palace of Zahhák
And gave them over to the dragon king,
Who educated them in evil ways
And taught them sorcery and necromancy.
The only teaching that he knew was bad—
To massacre, to pillage, and to burn.
Each night two youths of high or lowly birth
Were taken to the palace by the cook,
Who having slaughtered them took out their brains
To feed the snakes and ease the monarch's anguish.
Now in the realm were two good high-born Persians—
The pious Irmá'íl and Karmá'íl
The prescient. Talking of the lawless Sháh,
Of his retainers and those hideous meals,
One said: “By cookery we might approach
The Sháh, and by our wits devise a scheme

A worthless head

Thus fed the serpents, and in every month
The cooks preserved from slaughter thirty youths,
And when the number reached two hundred saved
Provided them, the donors all unknown,
With sheep and goats, and sent them desertward.
Thus sprang the Kúrds, who know no settled home,
But dwell in woollen tents and fear not God.
Zahhák was wont, such was his evil nature,
To choose him one among his warriors
And slay him for conspiring with the dívs.
Moreover, all the lovely noble maidens
Secluded in their bowers, not tanged of tongues,

Observe God's dealings with Zahhák when he
Had forty years to live. One longsome night
He slumbered in the arms of Arnawáz,
And saw a vision of three warriors—
Boughs of the tree of kings. The youngest one,
Who held the middle place, was cypress tall,
In face, in armour, and in mien a king.
He rushed with ox-head mace to fight Zahhák,
Smote him upon the head, stripped off his skin,
And used it as a rope to bind his hands
Firm as a rock,¹⁴⁷ placed on his neck a yoke,
Then casting earth and dust upon his head
Dragged him before the crowd in shame and anguish
Toward Mount Damáwand.

The tyrant writhed:

Thou wouldst have said: “His liver split with fright.”
He yelled. The palace of the hundred columns
Shook, and the sun-faced ladies left their couches,
While Arnawáz said to him: “Sháh! what was it?
Confide in me; thou wast asleep in peace
At home! What saw'st thou? Say what came to thee?
The world is at thy will, beast, dív, and man

Then Arnawáz:—

“Be pleased to tell us; we perchance may find
A cure, no ill is irremediable.”
He told them every whit, then said the Fair:—
“Neglect it not but seek a remedy.
Thy throne's seat is the signet of the age,
Thy famous fortune brighteneth the world,
Beneath thy finger-ring thou hast the earth
With all its fairies, dívs, beasts, fowls, and men.
Call both the archmages and astrologers—
The wisest of each realm—and tell them all.
See if the hand that threateneth thy life
Is that of fairy, dív, or man. This known
Act vigorously; quail not before thy foes.”
The lady's counsel pleased the Sháh.

Night then

Was dark as raven's plumes, but when at length
The Lamp showed o'er the hills, and thou hadst said,
“Strewed yellow gems upon the azure vault,”
Zahhák brought archimages shrewd of heart
And told to them the dream that pierced his liver.

They talked together sad at heart,

With parched lips and with sallow countenances:
They said: “If we tell truly what is fated
We shall be tortured, haply lose our lives;
And if we do not act straightforwardly
As well wash hands of life.”

None dared to speak:

Their fortune was in jeopardy three days.
Upon the fourth the Sháh was wroth, exclaiming:—
“Foretell the future or be hung alive.”
They drooped their heads, their hearts were rent, their eyes
Wept tears of blood. Among them was a man,
Wise, honest, prescient, by name Zirak—
The chief of all the band of archimages.
Concerned but fearless he addressed Zahhák:—
“Indulge no vapouring for none is born
Except to die. There have been kings ere thee
Fit for the throne of power. Both griefs and joys
Enough they reckoned up yet their time came.
If thou wert standing there— an iron wall—
Yon heaven would grind thee, thou wouldst not endure.
One will hereafter take thy throne and fling
Thy fortune to the ground. His name is Farídún,
And he will be a royal heaven to earth.

“Why bind me,” said the impious king,

“In vengeance?”

Then Zirak: “Wert thou but wise …!

But all make pretexts for injurious acts.
Thy hand will slay his father and that wrong
Will fill the son's brains with revengeful thoughts:
Besides the nurse of this young atheling—
The cow, Birmáya hight—will perish too
By thy hand; so in vengeance he will brandish
An ox-head mace.”

Zahhák heard anxiously,

And swooned upon his throne. The noble archmage
Turned him and fled away in dread of ill.
The Sháh recovered and resumed his seat.
He diligently sought throughout the world
For traces faint or clear of Farídún;
No food, no slumber, or repose took he,
His daylight turned to lapislazuli.

Years passed away, calamity approached
The dragon-king, the blesséd Farídún
Was born, the fashion of the world was changed.
Of cypress height he shone forth with the Grace
Of kings of kings which erst Jamshíd possessed,
Was like the sun, as needful as the rain
To earth and fit as knowledge to the mind;

Meanwhile Zahhák

Was searching everywhere, and filling earth
With hue and cry, till Farídún became
A source of danger to his sire Abtín,
Who fled for life but to the Lion's toils,
For certain of the followers of Zahhák,
That impious monarch, met Abtín one day,
Seized him and bore him, like a cheetah bound,
Before the Sháh, who had him put to death.
When Farídún's wise mother Farának,
A glorious dame devoted to her child,
Perceived her husband's evil fate she fled;
And came heart-broken weeping to the field
Wherein the beautiful Birmáya was.
Still shedding drops of blood she bade the hind:—
“Protect this suckling for me, be a father
To him, and give him milk of you fair cow.
Ask what thou wilt, e'en to my soul 'tis thine.”
The hind replied: “I will perform thy bidding
And be as 'twere a slave before thy child.”

When the rumour reached

Zahhák about the cow and field he went,
Like some mad elephant, and slew Birmáya,
With all the other cattle that he saw
Within the field, and harried all the land.
He went next to the home of Farídún,
Searched it, but all in vain, for none was found,
And burned the lofty palace to the ground.

Now Farídún, when twice eight years had passed,
Sought out his mother on the plain and said:—
“Disclose thy secret, say who is my father,
What is my lineage, whom shall I declare
Myself in public? Let me have the truth.”
She said: “I will tell all, my noble boy!
Within Írán erewhile lived one Abtín,
Of royal race, discerning mind, wise, brave,
And inoffensive, sprung from Tahmúras;
Abtín knew all the pedigree. Thy sire
And my dear spouse was he; my days were dark
When we were parted. Now Zahhák the warlock
Stretched from Írán his hand against thy life,
But I concealed thee. Oh! what woeful days
I passed while that brave youth—thy father—forfeited
His own sweet life for thee! Now on Zahhák
The warlock's shoulders grew two snakes which sucked
The life-breath of Irán, and thy sire's brains
Were taken from his head to feed them. I
In course of time came on an open pasture,
As yet unknown to fame, and there beheld
A cow like jocund spring, well shaped and coloured
From head to foot: before her sat her herd
Upon his heels as one before a king.

Zahhák had “Farídún” upon his lips

Then the man

Smote on his head before the Sháh and cried:—
“O Sháh! my name is Káwa and I sue
For justice. Do me right. I come in haste
Accusing thee in bitterness of soul;

They sought the smiths' bázár

In haste, whence all the aspiring craftsmen went
To Farídún, who taking compasses
Showed to the smiths the pattern, tracing it
Upon the ground. It had a buffalo's head.
They took the work in hand, and having wrought
A massive mace they bore it to the hero.
It shone as brightly as the noonday sun,
And Farídún, approving of the work,
Bestowed upon the makers raiment, gold,
And silver, holding out to them beside
Bright hopes and promise of advancement, saying:—
“If I shall lay the Dragon in the dust
I will not leave the dust upon your heads,
But justify the entire world, since I
Have Him in mind who judgeth righteously.”

With head raised o'er the sun he girt his loins
For vengeance for his father, and set forth
Upon the day Khurdád right joyfully
With favouring stars and splendid auguries.
The troops assembled at his gate, his throne
Was lifted to the clouds. The first to go

He entered riding—

An inexperienced but valiant youth,
Who called upon the name of God—while they
That were on guard fled from him in dismay.

Then Farídún o'erthrew the talisman,
Raised heaven-high by Zahhák, because he saw
That it was not of God, with massive mace
Laid low the sorcerers within the palace—
All fierce and notable dívs—and set himself
Upon the enchanter's throne. This done he took
Possession of the royal crown and palace,
But though he searched he failed to find Zahhák.
Then from the women's bower he brought two Idols
Sun-faced, dark-eyed; he had them bathed, he purged
The darkness of their minds by teaching them
The way of God and made them wholly clean;
For idol-worshippers had brought them up
And they were dazed in mind like drunken folk.
Then while the tears from their bright eyes bedewed
Their rosy cheeks those sisters of Jamshíd
Said thus to Farídún: “Mayst thou be young
Till earth is old! What star was this of thine,
O favoured one! What tree bore thee as fruit,
Who venturest inside the Lion's lair
So hardily, thou mighty man of valour?
What anguish and what bale have we endured
All through this dragon-shouldered Áhriman!

He answered: “Throne and fortune

Abide with none. My sire was fortune's favourite,
But still Zahhák seized on him in Írán
And slew him cruelly, so I have set
My face against Zahhák's throne in revenge.
He slew the cow Birmáya too—my nurse,
A very gem of beauty. What could he,
That villain, gain by slaughtering that dumb beast?
Now I am ready and I purpose war;
I came not from Írán to bring him pardon,
Or good will, but to brain him in revenge
With this ox-headed mace.”

When Arnawáz

Heard this she guessed the secret, and replied:—
“Then thou art Farídún the Sháh and wilt
Abolish necromacy and black art,
For thou art fated to destroy Zahhák:
The binding of thy loins will loose the world.
We twain, pure, modest, and of royal seed,
Submitted only through the fear of death,
Else would we ever sleep or wake, O king!
Beside a serpent-spouse?”

Then Farídún:—

“If heaven over us shall do me right
I will cut off this Dragon from the earth,
And purge the world of its impurity.
Now speak the truth at once and tell me where
That vile one is.”

Those fair dames told him all;

They thought: “The Dragon's head will meet the shears,”
And said: “He went to Hindústán to practise
Some spell-work in that land of sorcerers.

Stricken to the heart

That lovely pair revealed the mystery:
The exalted chieftain listened eagerly.

Zahhák while absent left in charge of all
A man of wealth, who served him like a slave,
So that his master marvelled at his zeal,
One named Kundrav, because he used to limp¹⁶⁴ Before the unjust king. He came in haste
And saw within the hall a stranger crowned,
Reposing on the throne, in person like
A cypress over which the full moon shineth,
On one side Shahrináz the cypress-slim,
Upon the other moon-faced Arnawáz.
The city swarmed with soldiers, and a guard
Stood ready armed before the palace-gate.
All undismayed, not asking what it meant,
Kundrav approached with lowly reverence,
Then offered homage, saying: “Live, O king!

Being bid approach

He told the Sháh the secrets of his office
And was commanded: “Serve a royal feast,
Let wine be brought, call minstrels fit to hear,
To cheer me at the banquet, fill the goblet,
Spread out the board, and summon worthy guests.”
Kundrav obeyed and brought bright wine and minstrels,
And noble guests whose birth entitled them.
So Farídún quaffed wine and chose the lays
And held that night a worthy festival.
Kundrav at dawn left the new prince in haste
And on a swift steed sought Zahhák. Arrived
He told the things that he had seen and heard:—
“O king of chiefs! the token of thy fall
Hath come, three men of noble mien arrived
With troops; the youngest of the three, in height
A cypress and a king in face, is placed
Between the other two and hath precedence.
His mace is like a mountain-crag and shineth
Amid the host. He entered thine abode
On horseback, and the others rode with him—
A noble pair. He went and sat upon
The royal throne and broke thy charms and spells.
As for the dívs and warriors in thy palace

Zahhák replied:—

“'Tis well, guests should enjoy themselves.”

Kundrav

Retorted: “One that hath an ox-head mace!
Beware of such in coming and in going;
Besides, he sitteth boldly on thy couch,
Eraseth from the crown and belt thy name,
And maketh thine ungrateful folk his own:
If such a guest thou knowest know him such.”
Zahhák said: “Trouble not, it bodeth well
When guests are at their ease.”

Kundrav replied:—

“Yea, I have heard so; hear thou my rejoinder:
If this great man be any guest of thine
What business hath he in thy women's bower?
He sitteth with the sisters of Jamshíd
The worldlord, taking counsel, while this hand
Is toying with the cheek of Shahrináz
And that with Arnawáz' carnelian lip.
At night he doth still worse and pilloweth
His head on musk! What musk? The locks of Moons
Who ever were the idols of thy heart.”
Zahhák, wolf-savage, wished that he were dead.
With foul abuse he sternly hoarsely threatened
That luckless one: “No more shalt thou have charge
Of any house of mine.”

Kundrav replied:—

“Henceforth, O king! I deem thy fortune shent.
How shouldst thou make me ruler in the city,
Or give me even minstrels' work, when thou
Hast lost the throne of power? For like a hair
From dough hast thou departed from the throne
Of sovereignty. Think, sire! what thou wilt do.

Roused by that talk Zahhák resolved to act,
And bade his keen-eyed roadsters to be saddled.
Now as he neared the city by a byway
With valiant dívs and warriors, and saw
His palace-roofs and gate he vowed revenge.
The troops of Farídún received the tidings
And flocked to meet him. Leaping from their steeds
They struggled hand to hand. The citizens,
Such as were warlike, manned the roofs and gates
For Farídún; Zahhák had maddened them.
Bricks from the walls, stones from the roofs, with swords
And poplar arrows in the street, were plied
As thick as hail; no place was left to stand.
The mountains echoed with the chieftains' shouts,
Earth trembled neath the chargers' tramping hoofs,
A cloud of black dust gathered, and the flints
Were pierced by javelins. From the Fane of Fire
One shouted: “If some wild beast had been Sháh,
We—young and old—had served him loyally,
But not that foul Zahhák with dragon-shoulders.”
The warriors and citizens were blent
Together as they fought—a mass of men.
O'er that bright city rose a cloud of dust
That turned the sun to lapislazuli.

Farídún, when firmly established on the throne, marries his three sons to the three daughters of Sarv, king of Yaman, and subsequently dividing the earth into three parts gives one to each of his sons. The two elder, becoming envious of the youngest, murder him, and are themselves slain by the grandson of their murdered brother, Minúchihr, who succeeds to the throne after the death of Farídún.

In the Vedas we find the expression Tritá Áptyá. Tritá is the name of a semi-divine personage, who is endowed with the gift of healing by the gods. Áptyá may be a proper name, a patronymic, or mere epithet. The fact that it is found in connection with other names besides Tritá's rather points to the last. We also find in the Vedas a hero named Traitaná, who is recorded to have slain a giant. Tritá and Traitaná, who were probably quite distinct personages originally, appear to have become confused together even in the Vedas themselves, the exploits of each were attributed to the other also, and the confusion was handed down to later times. Thus we find Tritá struggling with the storm-fiend for the possession of the waters,¹⁷¹ and Traitaná endowed with the gift of healing. In the Zandavasta, Tritá Aptyá and Traitaná become three personages—Thrita, Áthwya, and Thraétaona respectively. Thrita is there represented as the first healer, and also as the third who offered the drink-offering of the Haoma. The word Sáma is also associated with him, a word which is said to mean “appeaser,” with reference apparently to his medical powers. The priest and medicine-man were one originally. In reward for offering the Haoma two sons were born to Thrita, of whom one was the hero Keresáspa. Áthwya is represented as being the second to offer the Haoma, and as a reward for so doing a son is born to him too—Thraétaona, whose double character as hero and physician is clearly indicated. He is described as the smiter of the dragon Daháka, and is also worshipped in his capacity as healer to avert or cure sickness. The word Sáma, originally an epithet applied to Thrita, became applied to his son Keresáspa as a patronymic. He is thus described as Sáma Keresáspa, and a special epithet is bestowed on him sometimes to the exclusion of other titles—that of Narimanau, “the manly minded.”

He is described in the Zandavasta as “the holy Keresáspa, the Sáma, the club-bearer with plaited hair,¹⁷² … the manly-hearted Keresáspa … he who was the sturdiest of the men of strength, next to Zarathustra, for his manly courage. For Manly Courage clave unto him. … Manly Courage, firm of foot, unsleeping, quick to rise, and fully awake, that clave unto Keresáspa.”^172a Short accounts of his exploits occur in the Zandavasta,^172b but the fullest are found in a Pahlaví version of the fourteenth Fargard of the lost Súdkar Nask. It appears that Keresáspa, great as he was as a hero, fell a victim to the wiles of one of Áhriman's evil creations—the Pairika Knathaiti, who we are told “clave unto Keresáspa.”^172c The Pairika is the Parí, our Peri or Fairy, and symbolises idolatry in Zoroastrian mythology.^172d Keresáspa therefore neglected the worship of fire and became an idolater. For this he was cast into hell, where he remained till Urmuzd, having heard him commended by Zoroaster, summoned him, and he pleaded to be released in consideration of the good works achieved by him while on earth. He urged that he slew the serpent Sróvbar, “which was swallowing horses and swallowing men, and its teeth were as long as my arm, its ear was as large as fourteen blankets, its eye was as large as a wheel, and its horn was as much as Dahák^172e in height. And I was running as much as half a day on its back, till its head was smitten by me at the neck with a club made for my hand, and it was slain outright by mo … by me Gandarep^172f was slain outright, by whom twelve districts were devoured at once. When I looked among the teeth of Gandarep, dead men were sticking among his teeth; and my beard was seized by him, and I dragged him out of the sea; nine days and nights the conflict was maintained by us in the sea, and then I became more powerful than Gandarep. The sole of Gandarep's foot was also seized by me, and the skin was flayed off up to his head, and with it the hands and feet of Gandarep were bound … and Gandarep was taken and slain by me … Grant me, O Auhar-ma zd! heaven or the supreme heaven! for I have slain the highwaymen who were so big in body that, when they were walking, people considered in this way, that ‘below them are the stars and moon, and below them moves the sun at dawn, and the water of the sea reaches up to their knees.’ And I reached up to their legs, and they were smitten on the legs by me; they fell, and the hills on the earth were shattered by them.” Keresáspa went on to tell how the demons urged on the wind to attack him, how it came on in its strength, uprooting every shrub, and tree, and reducing earth to powder in its path, and how he withstood it and prevailed. He finally pleaded that when, in the fulness of time, Zahhák shall escape from the fetters wherewith Farídún bound him to Mount Damáwand, and threaten the world with destruction, he (Keresáspa) alone can conquer and finally destroy that evil spirit. Urmuzd, in consideration for the outraged spirit of fire, long remained obdurate to the pleadings of Keresáspa, though supported by those of Zoroaster himself and others, but finally yielded, and Keresáspa was admitted into heaven.¹⁷³

With regard to the final destruction of Zahhák by Keresáspa we find information in the Bundahish and in the Bahman Yast. Combining the accounts given, we learn that Keresáspa obtained immortality while on earth, but that owing to his slighting fire-worship he was wounded by a Turk named Niháv, and fell asleep in the valley of Pishín in Kábulistán. He is there watched over by the divine glory, and by the guardian spirits of the righteous till the epoch when the powers of evil shall rally for the last great struggle against good, and Áhriman summon Zahhák from Mount Damáwand. Zahhák will rush forth freed from the fetters of Farídún, first apparently swallow Áhriman himself, and then a third of mankind, cattle, sheep, and other creatures of Urmuzd, smite the water, fire, and vegetation, and commit grievous sin. Then the water, the fire, and vegetation will lament before Urmuzd and pray that Farídún may be revived to slay Zahhák, else fire declares that it will not heat, and water that it will not flow. Then Urmuzd will bid Surúsh and another angel to rouse Keresáspa the Sáman. They will go to him and call him thrice. At the fourth summons he will wake and go forth to encounter Zahhák, smite him on the head with the famous club, and slay him. All evil, sin, and misery will cease, and the era of eternal happiness begin.¹⁷⁴

In the Sháhnáma, Thrita, Áthwya, Thraétaona, and Sáma Keresáspa Narimanau reappear under changed aspects. Thrita and Thraétaona coalesce into Farídún, while Áthwya becomes Abtín, the father of Farídún. Sáma Keresáspa Narimanau splits up into several personalities—Sám, the grandfather, and Narímán, the great grandfather, of Rustam, Garshásp, a more remote ancestor of his, perhaps Garshásp, the hero mentioned in the present reign, and possibly Garshásp, the tenth Sháh. In the case of Sám and Narímán the epithets and patronymics of earlier times become the names of heroes of later ages.^174a

The three sons of Farídún—Salm, Túr, and Íraj—appear in the Zandavasta as Sairima, Túra, and Airyu respectively. Firdausí seems to derive the first, of course wrongly, from the Arabic “salámat,” “safety.”^174b Túr may be connected with an Aryan root “tu” meaning “to swell, to grow great or strong.” Íraj is the same word as Aryan and means “noble.”

For the ethnical significance of the names, see Introd. p. 54.