Šāh-nāmah - The Šahnama of Firdausi, Volume 3

¹ The second edition of Part I. is referred to unless otherwise specified.

á as in “water.”

í as in “pique.”

ú as in “rude.”

a as in “servant.”

i as in “sin.”

u as in “foot.”

ai as i in “time.”

au as ou in “cloud.”

g is always hard as in “give.”

kh as ch in the German “buch.”

zh as z in “azure.”

Kai Khusrau succeeds to the throne during the lifetime of his grandfather, Sháh Kai Káús, and swears to him to avenge the death of Siyáwush. This he achieves after long wars and vicissitudes of fortune; and then, fearing that, like Jamshíd, he too may fall away from holiness by reason of his great successes and half descent from Túr, prays that he may be taken from the world, its temptations, and its evil. His prayers are granted, and, having appointed his successor, he is caught up alive to heaven. In the course of the reign the poet tells two episodic stories, that of the dív Akwán, and that of Bízhan and Manízha.

Kai Khusrau is the last of the Sháhs in whose names we can trace a connexion with Indian mythology. In the Vedas he appears as Sushrávas. In the Zandavasta he is Kavi Husravah and is mentioned often. Like his grandfather Kai Káús he originated in the ancient nature-worship of the Aryan race, and a trace of his divine origin still clings to him in the Sháhnáma, as is shown by his exemption from death. The story of his birth and youth will be found in the reign of Kai Káús, Parts IV. and V.⁷

The reign of Kai Khusrau is the longest in the Sháhnáma and forms more than a fifth of the whole poem. It is nearly twice as long as “Paradise Lost” and “Paradise Regained” combined. It is divided into seven Parts, of which Parts IV. and V. are episodic. The others carry on and bring to a conclusion the story of the old epic cycle of Írán, the deaths of Íraj, Naudar, Ighríras, and Siyáwush are avenged, and the royal house of Túrán becomes extinct. Early in the reign a new motive of great importance is introduced, that of the slaughter of the descendants of Gúdarz, who in Part VI. has his revenge on Pírán, just as in Part VII. Kai Khusrau avenges himself on Afrásiyáb. By the end of the reign a clean sweep has been made on the Túránian side, while on the Íránian a great clearance has been effected. Many heroic names drop out of sight, Kai Khusrau and his half-brother Farúd leave no issue,⁸

and in the next reign the curtain rises on a complete change of scene and motive. Only Zál and his descendants—great relics of the heroic past—still continue to play their part among “new faces, other minds.”

The story is one of almost unceasing warfare, for even the episodes end with battles against Afrásiyáb. Omitting these, four campaigns are fought, the first in Part I., the second in Parts II. and III., the third in Part VI., and the fourth in Part VII. The successive campaigns become more and more elaborate in the method of their presentation, and set forth the gradual progress of the Íránian arms from total defeat to absolute triumph.

In the course of the reign we find a mass of subject-matter of comparatively late growth. It is only in Part VII. that the older legendary strata crop up, and we again find ourselves in touch with the Zandavasta, while it is not till the concluding scenes of all that we come upon the ancient legend which may be regarded as the bed-rock of the whole. Another version of it occurs near the end of the great Indian epic, the Mahábhárata.^8a

This will be given in the Introductory Note to Part VII. in Vol. IV. of this translation, where it may be compared most conveniently with its Íránian equivalent.

It was stated in the Introduction^8b

that the Sháhnáma was divisible into two periods—a mythic and a historic—and the distinction was based not so much on the nature of the subject-matter as on the names of the chief characters which at a certain point cease to be mythic and become historic. As regards the names of the Sháhs, which were there referred to, this is correct. We are still far from the point in the poem at which such names begin to appear in their proper historic connexion of time and place, but it does not follow that all the names occurring before that point is reached are wholly mythical. Real dynastic, family, and personal names are found thrown back upon and incorporated with a mythical past with which they have no connexion whatever. The dynastic title of Cæsar, for instance, occurs in the reign of Minúchihr,⁹

while the personified name—Káran—of a family famous in Ashkánian (Parthian) and Sásánian times is very prominent in the Pishdádian dynasty. The most striking instances of personal names and personalities being thus thrown back occur in the Kaiánian dynasty and in the reigns of Kai Káús and Kai Khusrau. These we will now proceed to consider.

About A.D. 40 the Parthian king Artabanus III. died. He left at least two sons living at his death—Vardanes, who succeeded him, and Artabanus. Shortly afterward, and during the absence of Vardanes from the capital, a certain Gotarzes assumed the supreme power and caused Artabanus with his wife and son to be murdered. The relationship of Gotarzes to Artabanus III. has been a matter of considerable difference of opinion, but seems fairly settled now by two pieces of contemporary evidence. On the rock of Bihistún, some three hundred feet below the inscription of the great Darius, Gotarzes has left a memorial tablet of himself. Unfortunately it is now almost defaced,^9a

but when the late Sir Henry Rawlinson examined it in 1836 he made out, in addition to the name Gotarzes, which is still legible,^9b

the word Mithrates, and Gotarzes' description of himself as “Satrap of Satraps.” In one corner of the tablet the words “Gotarzes Geopothros” (◌) were also found. Sir Henry Rawlinson's account was read before the Royal Geographical Society in January 1838.^9c

In the first element in the word “Geopothros” we have, as now seems generally admitted, the historical original of the Gív of the Sháhnáma. In the second element we have the old Persian word “puthra,” which means “son.” The whole word therefore means “son of Gív.” This historical Gív seems to have been prince of Hyrcania and the father-in-law of Artabanus III.^9d

He was also, if we accept the evidence of the inscription, the father of Gotarzes.

The second piece of contemporary evidence is a very rare coin of Gotarzes in the corrupted legend on which he is described as “the king of kings, the Arsacid, the adopted son of Artabanus” (◌).¹⁰

It appears therefore that Gotarzes was closely connected with the reigning Parthian family both by marriage and adoption, but was not really one of the sons of Artabanus III. as was formerly supposed.

Vardanes, on hearing of Gotarzes' usurpation of the kingdom, hurried back and expelled him. Gotarzes withdrew into his hereditary principality of Hyrcania, where, with the assistance of the Dahae, who dwelt between the Caspian and the Aral, he prepared to renew the struggle. The opposing forces met on the Bactrian plains, but hostilities were averted. Gotarzes had discovered a plot, on the part of the Parthian nobles on both sides, to kill him and Vardanes, and set up a new king in their place. He informed Vardanes of this, and the two combined against the common enemy. Gotarzes then withdrew to Hyrcania and Vardanes retained the crown. Subsequently another war broke out between the two and several battles were fought. Tacitus, the chief authority for this part of history, tells us^10a

that Vardanes advanced to meet Gotarzes as far as the river Erinde,^10b

at the passage of which severe fighting took place in which Vardanes was victorious, who then in several successful engagements subdued all the nations between that river and the river Sinde, which divided the Dahae and the Aryans.^10c

He returned in triumph, but shortly afterward was assassinated while hunting, A.D. 46. Upon this Gotarzes became king, but his ferocity and self-indulgence speedily rendered him unpopular, and a Parthian deputation arrived in Rome in A.D. 49 for the purpose of obtaining from the Emperor Claudius permission for Meherdates, who resided there, to accompany them back to Persia. Meherdates was the son of a former Parthian king, Vonones I. As was to be expected in the circumstances the character of Gotarzes was depicted in very unfavourable colours by the envoys. He had killed all his relations, whether near or distant, with their wives and children; he was sluggish at home, unfortunate in war, and sought to cloak his sloth by cruelty.¹¹

Meherdates was sent accordingly, but was defeated and taken prisoner by Gotarzes, who, however, rather belied his character for ferocity on this occasion. He spared the life of Meherdates and merely cut off his ears—a mutilation that disqualified him for the Parthian crown. It was to commemorate this victory that Gotarzes had the bas-relief already referred to carved on the rock of Bihistún, in the neighbourhood of which the battle probably was fought. Gotarzes is represented as charging at the head of his troops, while above him a winged Victory is setting the crown upon his head.^11a

He died in A.D. 51.

In the lists of the kings of the Ashkánian (Parthian) dynasty, compiled by oriental historians,^11b

the name Gúdarz occurs in several connexions. We also find the name Bízhan given as the son of one Gúdarz and as the father of another. We also find the name Bahrám. Firdausí, when he reaches Ashkánian times, includes the above three names in his very scanty list of the kings of that dynasty. He admits that he knows nothing about any of them, being wholly unaware, as naturally he would be, of their identity with some of his own most favourite heroes.

In the Sháhnáma Gotarzes becomes Gúdarz, who is represented as being the father, not the son, of Gív. Vardanes becomes Bahrám and is the son, not the adopted brother, of Gúdarz. Bízhan becomes the son of Gív and the grandson of Gúdarz. Similarly other names of the Parthian period appear in the poem. Meherdates (Mithradates, Mithrates, Mithradát, Mihrdát) appears as Mílád, the father of Gurgín, who plays such a prominent part in the story of Bízhan and Manízha, (Part V.). Phraates—a common Parthian name—becomes Farhád, and there are other instances.^11c

Some of the names thus transplanted have flourished amazingly, and Gotarzes' reputation has not suffered by the change.

We conclude this note with a few instances in which the events of Parthian history summarized above may be traced in a distorted form in the Sháhnáma. In the war between Gotarzes and Vardanes we seem to have the origin of the campaigns of Tús against Túrán in Parts I. and II. The scene of operations is the same in both cases, and the battle at the river Erinde seems reproduced in that of the river Shahd.^11d

The assassination of king Vardanes on the hunting-field is reproduced in the episode in which Bahrám, having lost his whip on the battlefield, insists on returning to look for it, and is, after a gallant defence, mortally wounded by the enemy.^11e

It is because Meherdates, after marching through Armenia to attack Gotarzes,¹²

is let off after his defeat with a slight mutilation that, in the story of Bízhan and Manízha, Gurgín the son of Mílád and Bízhan the grandson of Gúdarz set forth together on an expedition to Irmán, that Gurgín treats Bízhan badly and, after having brought him into deadly peril, is lightly punished, then pardoned, and in the end forgiven by Bízhan himself,^12a

while lastly it may be noted that the battle with Afrásiyáb, consequent on the release of Bízhan, is stated to have taken place in the neighbourhood of Mount Bístún.^12b

The poet, first having set forth the various qualities that kings ought to possess, proceeds to tell how Kai Khusrau becomes joint Sháh with Kai Káús, who exacts from him an oath that he will avenge the death of Siyáwush. He accordingly assembles the host, and sends it, under the command of Tús, against Afrásiyáb, strictly enjoining the former not to attack Farúd—the half-brother of Kai Khusrau—on the march. Tús out of dudgeon with Kai Khusrau disobeys, and Farúd is slain. The Íránians subsequently are surprised in a night-attack by Pírán and defeated. Kai Khusrau recalls Tús and appoints Faríburz leader, who arranges a month's truce with Pírán, after which the fight is renewed and the Íránians are overthrown at the disastrous battle of Ládan. They retreat to Írán, and Pírán is splendidly rewarded by Afrásiyáb. The poet in this part records various heroic exploits of Gív, his son Bízhan, and his brother Bahrám, who is slain.

§§ 1 and 9. There are two Preludes in this Part. The first may be regarded as introductory to the whole reign, specifying as it does the ideal kingly qualities that are to be exemplified in the person of Kai Khusrau, while the second is meant to impress upon the reader the real motives that underlay the conduct of Tús with reference to his treatment of Farúd. Tús, as we have seen, was a disappointed man.^12c

Although he was the direct representative of the ancient Pishdádian Dynasty his claim to the crown invariably had been ignored. Despairing, moreover, of ever becoming Sháh himself he had just been advocating the claims of Faríburz to the kingship, in opposition to those of Kai Khusrau, in the hope of becoming at all events a king-maker and the power behind the throne. Again his plans are frustrated, and he vents his spite on Khusrau's half-brother, Farúd.

§ 6. The name of the slave of Tazháv appears variously as Isnapwí and Ispanwí. We adopt the latter.

§ 7. In Rustam's account of the conquest of part of Zábulistán by the Turkmans we seem to have a reminiscence of the permanent occupation of that country (?? 100 B.C.), from which it received the name of Sístan.¹⁴

Similarly in Kai Káús, Part II., we had a reference to the invasions of Mesopotamia by the Arabs.^14a

§ 10. Kalát is a word used for forts in general, but if, as seems probable, the particular stronghold referred to is that which is now known as Kalát-i-Nádirí, we here find ourselves in the poet's own neighbourhood. Tús, his native place, is said to have been founded by the legendary hero of that name, who plays so prominent a part in this portion of the Sháhnáma, because, in consequence of the death of Farúd, he was afraid to return to the court of Kai Khusrau,^14b

but we find nothing to this effect in the Sháhnáma. Kalát-i-Nádirí was so called because Nádir Sháh (A.D. 1736-1747), one of the most remarkable of Persian sovereigns, whose uncle was the ruler of this fortress,^14c

was born in its neighbourhood and made it his favourite residence. It is situated some forty miles to the north of the ruins of Tús. “It is upon a very high hill, only accessible by two narrow paths. An ascent of six or seven miles terminates in a plain about twelve miles in circumference, watered by several fine streams and covered with verdure and cultivation. A second ascent, by a route of ten or eleven miles, leads to another plain of greater elevation, but of equal richness.”^14d

“It is a district or a basin,” says another account, “fortified in the most wonderful way by nature. In shape it is something like a foot, and it must have a length of twenty miles by a breadth of two to four miles … if the term impregnable can be used anywhere, it can here. For the fifty miles of its circuit, nature has indeed left hardly anything for man to do.”^14e

§ 15. The Rívníz slain by Farúd should be distinguished from the hero of the same name slain at Ládan (§ 30). The former was descended from Pashang^14f

and therefore of Pishdádian descent. He is quite appropriately the son-in-law of Tús. The latter is a son of Kai Káús and therefore a Kaiánian.

§ 18. Bízhan's friendship with Gustaham, the son of Gazhdaham, is one of the features of this reign. Another is Gív and Bízhan's anxiety about one another when either is courting danger. The father can never bring himself to realise that his son is grown up and well able to take care of himself, while the son, with all the insolence of youth, persists in regarding his father as played out— touches not foreign to human nature.

§ 30. The battle of Ládan is also known by the name of the battle of Pashan, and there is a legend that when Firdausí was on his way to seek his fortune at the court of Mahmúd he chanced to enter a garden where three of the seven poets of Mahmúd's court were revelling. He asked to be allowed to join them, and they consented on the condition that he should cap their three rhyming verses with a fourth. Firdausí at once obtained the needful rhyme by a verse referring to the battle of Pashan, whereby he showed his superior knowledge of the epic history of his country.¹⁵

In this connexion the word has sometimes been understood as equivalent to Pashang, the name both of the father and of one of the sons of Afrásiyáb, but Firdausí's line was intended to celebrate the prowess of Gív at the battle of Pashan or Ládan. It is possible, however, that these are the names of distinct battles though fought in the same campaign, in which case we may regard the former as the night-surprise and the latter as the occasion when Gúdarz lost nearly all his descendants. Gív distinguished himself at both battles.

The “mountain-skirt” to which the Íránian army withdrew after its defeat seems to be that of the northern scarp of the province of Khurásán which still goes by the name of Dáman-i-Kuh— the term used in the poem, cf. p. 10.

§§ 31-33. See pp. 10, 11. The historical Bahrám (Vardanes) was, according to Tacitus, a king of exceptional valour and brilliancy.^15a

THIS much achieved, the poet will present
Another tale of yore—how Kai Khusrau
Sat on the throne and sent an armament
Against Túrán. Thus, if God's grace allow

When in the garth a cypress sendeth off
A shoot, whose green top mounteth palace-high,
The tree rejoiceth in the height thereof,
Its prudent carriage, and prosperity,
The heart of fortune nourisheth the shoot,
And all the world partaketh of the fruit.

If sovereignty to native worth be due
The wearer of the crown must needs do right;
Three aspects of the matter let us view,
And presently a fourth will come in sight:
Accomplishment thou wilt not fail to find
With high birth and with native worth combined.

Such are the three, and all in one content,
For save in company with native worth
How can there ever be accomplishment,
And, lacking that, what scion of high birth
Hast thou beheld? High birth the father's seed
Produceth, which may well fair fruitage breed.

Accomplishment thou learnest painfully
From others, at the cost of many a groan,
While native worth is greatest of the three—
A robe of honour given by God alone.
To these be wisdom added, that which will
Discriminate for thee 'twixt good and ill.

When any man possesseth all the four
He hath repose from travail, greed, and grief,
But not from death; that is an evil, sore
Beyond all others; there is no relief.
Now Kai Khusrau possessed all four, and he
Was fashioned thus by heaven's destiny.

When Kai Khusrau acceded, and the world
Had been apprised, he sat upon the throne
Of king of kings and donned the crown of greatness.
He meted justice out to each, uprooting
Injustice from the earth. Then all the nobles,
Possessed of crowns and sprung of royal race,
With foreign monarchs, potentates, and magnates,
Resorted to Khusrau: there was no head
Not taken in his toils. He cultivated
Waste lands and freed the mourners' hearts from woe;
The moisture rained down from the clouds in spring,
And cleansed the face of earth from rust and sorrow;
'Twas decked like Paradise with goodly havings
By reason of his justice and his bounty.

When they rose

They had the tables spread and wine prepared.
Khusrau slept not till night was far advanced,
But held more converse touching what had chanced.

When Sol had drawn its shining scimitar,
And dark night's head had vanished, rose the blare
Of trumpets from the court-gate, and such chiefs

The nobles all agreed.

The monarch of the world went forth to hunt
With Rustam, that illustrious paladin,
With Gív, Gúdarz son of Kishwád, Shápúr,
Bahrám, a wielder of the seimitar,
Gurgín, Bízhan expert in archery,
Farhád and Zanga son of Sháwarán,
And one among the fighting-men, Guráza—
A host that darkened both the sun and moon
With helmets, maces, coats of mail, and casques.
The tracks and trackless waste were like a field
Of battle with the corpses of the game.
Khusrau passed through the country of Írán,
And subsidised and peopled all the lands
That then were uninhabited or ravaged,
Or ruined by misgovernment; he found
No toil in justice or munificence.
He tarried in each city and set up
His throne as fitted fortune's favourite,
Called for his purse and cup, and with dínárs
Decked all the world; then sought another city,
Conveying with him crown and throne and wine,

When morn brought forth bright day, and scattered
gems
Upon the dusky ground, the world-lord sat
With Kai Káús—both noble, prosperous Sháhs—
With Zál and valiant Rustam. Kai Káús
Discoursed at large on matters great and small,
And, first, in speaking of Afrásiyáb,
Bathed both his cheeks with blood-drops from his eyes,
Recounting what that king had perpetrated
On Siyáwush, and how he had sent up
Dust from Írán, how many paladins
Had died, and how their wives and children suffered,
Thus saying: “Thou beholdest many cities
Waste in Írán, wrecked by Afrásiyáb.
Since every needful, God-sent gift is thine—
Men, knowledge, might of hand, Grace, majesty,
And favouring stars—and thou in every point
Of native worth art raised o'er other kings,
I claim of thee an oath, and thou must keep it,
That vengeance on Afrásiyáb shall fill
Thy heart, and thou shalt not allay that flame,

With matters in this stay the sky revolved
Till Sol appeared in Virgo; then the Sháh
Called all the archimages of the realm,
And spake to them at large in fitting terms.
He closed the door of audience for two sennights,
And had the muster-roll compiled afresh.
He bade the commissaries to call over
The names of great and small, and had them written
In solemn form befitting paladins.
The kin of Kai Káús five score and ten—
Chiefs of the host—came first upon the list,
And at their head was Faríburz the son
Of Kai Káús—the new Sháh's kinsman. Next
He chose him eighty scions of Naudar,
All armed with maces and all warriors.
Their leader was Zarásp the general,
Who used to make their welfare his concern
In everything—a crown of kings, the son
Of Tús—the lord of iron mace, of scimitar,
And drum. Gúdarz son of Kishwád came next,
Whose counsels were the safeguard of the host.
His sons and grandsons numbered seventy-eight—
Brave mountaineers and horsemen of the plain;
They carried Káwa's standard and illumed
The throne and fortune of the Kaian race.
The seed of Gazhdaham were sixty-three,
And great men all; their chief was Gustaham.
The kinsmen of Mílád—a hundred horsemen—
Had for their chief victorious Gurgín.
Tawába's kindred numbered eighty-five
Brave cavaliers, the wardens of the treasure,
While Barta was the warden over them,
And most illustrious of them all in fight.

Wherever there were horses running wild
Their keepers drove them to the camp in herds.
The Sháh commanded: “Let the lasso-throwers—
The warriors brazen-bodied in the fight—

That he may slumber while that chieftain watcheth.
Who in our camp will bring his head and sword
And steed to dust upon the day of battle?”
Bízhan the son of Gív sprang to his feet
Forthwith, he undertook to slay that Dragon,
And carried off the stuffs and cup of gold,
With all the jewels, blessing Kai Khusrau,
And saying: “May this crowned head live for ever!”
Then went back to his seat retaining still
The goblet with the jewels in his hand.

Again Bízhan the son of Gív arose,
Who had a hand far reaching in the fight,
And seized upon the presents and the slaves
While all assembled wondered; he exclaimed:—
“May earth be prosperous under Kai Khusrau!”
Then sat down gladly giving many thanks.
The Sháh commanded and the treasurer
Brought out ten slave-boys with their girdles on,
Ten steeds of rapid pace with golden bridles,
And ten veiled maidens in their bravery;
The watchful ruler of the people said:—
“These steeds and all these Beauties are for one
Who, when Tazháv hath fled, need not possess
A lion's heart. Tazháv hath by his side
In battle one whose voice would tame a leopard,
A slave with cheeks like spring, of cypress-stature,
With reed-like waist and with a pheasant's gait,
A Moon-face, Ispanwí by name, a Jasmine
In visage, heart-alluring, breathing musk.
Her captor must not strike her with the sword,
For swords are not for such a cheek as hers,
But noose her waist and take her to his bosom.”
Bízhan smote on his breast and volunteered
Again. He drew anigh the all-conquering Sháh,

May this bright crown ne'er lack thy sword. So be it.
Oh! may the Brahman never lack the Idol!”
He ordered: “Let the treasurer produce
Forthwith a hundred divers-hued brocades,”
Chose from his hoards a hundred lustrous pearls—
“All drops of water frozen,” thou wouldst say—
And brought out from the women's bower five handmaids,
Whose heads and tresses were concealed by crowns.
He said: “This is a present meet for one
Whose wisdom is the king of his pure mind—
A daring, prudent man and eloquent,
Who turneth not from lions in the fight—
If he will carry to Afrásiyáb
A message, weeping not for dread of him,
And will convey his answer back to me.
Who of this noble company will dare?”
Gurgín son of Mílád held forth his hand,
And gat him ready for that enterprise.
The Sháh bestowed on him the slaves, the robes
Of gold-embroidery, and royal gems.
He called down blessings on the Sháh and said:—
“May wisdom wed the soul of Kai Khusrau!”

When daylight made the hills like sandarac,
And cockcrows reached the clouds, the matchless
Rustam
With Farámarz and with Zawára came
Before the Sháh to speak about Írán,
The crown, the state, and matters great and small.
Then Rustam said: “Illustrious, glorious Sháh!
There is a district in Zábulistán,
That formed a portion of the realm of Túr
Till Minúchihr drave all the Turkmans out.
It is a goodly and a glorious land;
But when Káús grew hoar and spiritless,
When fame, the Grace, and prowess quitted him,
Túránians seized it and Íránians ceased
Therein.³⁰

The folk now carry to Túrán
Both toll and tribute, heeding not the Sháh.

Now that the kingship of Írán is thine,
Thine from the ant's foot to the lion's claws,
'Twere well to send a valiant paladin,
And mighty host, to make this people bring
Their tribute to the Sháh and look to him.
This region ours we can defeat Túrán.”
The Sháh said: “Live for ever! Thou art right.
Take order for sufficiency of troops,
Selecting all the famous warriors,
For since the district marcheth with thine own
Its purchase will be worthy of thy fame.
Commit a mighty host to Farámarz,
As many warriors as shall suffice.
The business will succeed with him; his hook
Will catch the crocodiles.”

The paladin

With flushing cheeks called many a blessing down
Upon the Sháh, who bade the chamberlain

When bright Sol rose above the hills, and when
The minstrels tired of song, the kettledrums
Clanged at the court-gate and the troops drew up
Before the palace. On the elephants
They bound the tymbals and the trumpets blared.
Upon one elephant they set a throne;
That royal Tree bore fruit; the Sháh came forth,
And took his seat, crowned with a jewelled casque.
He wore a torque of royal gems and held
An ox-head mace. Two earrings, decked with pearls
And precious stones, depended from his ears;
His bracelets were of jewels set in gold;
His belt was pearls and gold and emeralds.
His elephant with golden bells and bridle
Proceeded to the centre of the host.
He had with him the ball within the cup;
The shouting of the army rose to Saturn;
The earth grew black and heaven azure-dim
With all the swords and maces, drums and dust;
Thou wouldst have said: “The sun is in a net,”
Or “Water hath o'erwhelmed the arching sky!”
The clearest sight could not behold the world,
Or gaze upon the sky and stars for spears;
Thou wouldst have said: “The billows of the sea
Are rising,” as the host marched troop by troop.
They brought the camp-enclosure from the palace
Forth to the plain, and shoutings frayed the skies.

Upon his saddle was a lasso coiled;
He bore a banner blazoned with a boar;
His troops were warriors and lasso-flingers.
These cavaliers and heroes of the plain
Saluted many times and then marched past.
Behind him Zanga son of Sháwarán
Came rushing with his gallant hearts and chieftains.
Behind him was his flag charged with an eagle,
And as a moving mountain so moved he.

The chief, on hearing

The words of this new master of the world,
Dismounted from his fleet steed, and invoked
Full many a blessing on the young Sháh, saying:—
“Mayst thou wax even as the new moon waxeth.”
He kissed the ground and, having done obeisance,
Turned and departed on his longsome journey,
While matchless Rustam, with his brain distraught
At losing Farámarz, accompanied

Fleet we the darksome night with goblets brimmed,
And when day cometh with its measured steps
We will command that Tús shall blow the trumpet,
That tymbal, kettledrum, and clarion sound;
Then shall we see o'er whom the turning sky
Will stretch its hand in love in this campaign.
And yet what profit is our toil to us
Since from the first what is to be will be?
We shall be quit alike of good and ill;
Why should a wise man gorge himself with care?
Still by the aid of Him who made us all
I will take vengeance for my father's fall.”

When Sol arose in all its majesty,
And sat upon its lofty eminence,
Ascendant in the Sign of Aries,
While all the world became like golden wine,
The tymbals sounded from the court of Tús
With blare of trump and roll of kettledrum.
The battle-shout went up throughout the realm,
The air was full of war-cries, earth of turmoil.
The neighs and the shouts frayed Luna from her course,
While from the clash of arms and trumpeting
Of elephants thou wouldst have said: “The Nile
Hath overflowed the world!” The air was yellow,

But little shown in public by his sire.
He is my brother and resembleth me.
He is a youth of mine own age, high-fortuned,
And liveth with his mother at Kalát;
A world-lord he who hath the Grace and troops.
He knoweth no Íránian e'en by name,
And from that quarter thou must turn thy bridle,
For he hath troops and famous men of war
Upon a mountain steep and hard to reach.
He is a brave and warlike cavalier,
Great through his native worth and famed of person,
And therefore thou must take the desert-road:
It is not well to touch the claws of lions.”
Tús answered: “In thy counsels is success,
By that way which thou biddest will I go,
For good alone must come of thy behest.”
He then departed quickly, and the Sháh
Returned with loyal Rustam to the throne,
Where sitting with that elephantine hero,
The lords, archmages, and the stainless princes,

Tús said: “O famous warrior!

Think not such things; this will not vex the Sháh,
And therefore need not be a grief to thee.”
He spake and bade the army to proceed,
And march toward Kalát and to Charam;
And, since Khusrau's commands he minded not,
See what a Tempest proved at last his lot!

News reached Farúd: “The bright sun's face is dark-ened

“Noble lady!”

Replied Farúd, “thy rede enlighteneth
Thy kin and folk.”

A watchman from the look-out

Came, told Farúd about that host, and said:—
“The mountains, vales, and plains are filled with troops,
And thou wouldst say: ‘The sun is put in duress!’
The expanse of rock up to the castle-door
Is all flag, elephant, and warrior!”

Tukhár departed with Farúd—a youth
Whom fortune had abandoned. Whensoever
The sky above us is untowardly
No gentleness or rage availeth thee.
They chose the summit of a lofty mountain,
Commanding all the army of Írán,
And marvelled at the troops and their equipment.
The youth said to his confidant Tukhár:—
“Conceal not aught of what I ask of thee.
Tell me the names of all that thou beholdest—
The man of rank, the bearer of the flag,
The lord of partisan and golden boot—
All whom thou recognisest of Írán.”
The Íránian host defiled between two mountains,
And what with golden helm and golden shield,
With golden ax and golden partisan,
Thou wouldst have said: “No gold is left unmined,
A cloud hath risen and rained jewelry!”

Thus he told

The blazons of the chiefs to prince Farúd,
Who viewed all, great and small. His heart grew glad,
His cheek flushed,⁴⁶

and he spake thus to Tukhár:—
“We shall take vengeance for my sire with ease!
I will not leave in Chín or in Máchín
A cavalier, when battling for revenge,
But catch the Dragon^46a

and reduce their throne
To straits.”

Now when the ĺránians had descried

Farúd upon the mountain with Tukhár,
Tús the commander was incensed, and caused
The drums and elephants to halt. He said:—

Bahrám son of Gúdarz said to the chief:—
“This matter shall not be concealed from us.
I will go forth to do as thou hast said,
And scale the mountain-top.”

He struck his steed,

And went full of surmise toward the height.
Farúd said to Tukhár: “Who is this man
That cometh hither with such insolence?
Good sooth! he taketh no account of us
At all, but cometh up the steep apace!
He rideth a bay charger with a lasso
Hung in his saddle-straps.”

The counsellor

Replied: “He is not one to treat with rudeness.
I know him not by token or by name,
But take him for a kinsman of Gúdarz.
When Kai Khusrau departed from Túrán
He took a helmet of Afrásiyáb's;⁴⁷

It is methinketh on that horseman's head,
And he hath royal mail to correspond.
He must be of the kindred of Gúdarz;
So let us ope our lips and question him.”
Bahrám, when he came nearer to the crest,
Cried as a cloud might thunder: “Who art thou
Upon the mountain-top? Dost thou not see
Yon countless host, or hear their clamouring
And din of drums? Or art thou not afraid
Of Tús their watchful leader?”

Then the prince:—

“Thou wast not rudely treated: be not rude.
Good words, O veteran! Let no harsh challenge
Pollute thy lips. Thou art no warlike lion,
And I am not a desert-onager;
We are not to be treated in this fashion.
Thou art in no way my superior
In courage or in manliness or strength,
While as for head, foot, hand, heart, brain, and wits,
Tongue speaking fluently and eyes and ears—
See if I too possess them and, if so,
Forbear to threaten in thy foolishness.
If thou wilt answer I will ask thee somewhat,
And shall rejoice if thou advise me well.”
Bahrám said: “Ask away! Thou art in heaven
And I am on the earth.”

“Who is your leader,”

Inquired Farúd, “and wherefore make ye war?”
Bahrám said: “Tús is leader for he hath
The drums and Káwa's flag. Of warriors
There are Gúdarz, Ruhhám, and Gív, Shídúsh,
Gurgín, Farhád the valiant, Gustaham,
With Zanga son of Sháwarán, and chief
Of all the clan of fighting-men—Guráza.”
Farúd returned: “Why nam'st thou not Bahrám,
And leavest thus the matter incomplete?

Thereat Farúd showed to Bahrám his arm.
A mole of ambergris on rosy flesh
Was there—a picture such as none on earth
Could skill to limn with compasses from Chín.
Bahrám perceived: “He cometh from Kubád
Through Siyáwush,” then blessed him, did obeisance,
And scaled the lofty steep. The prince dismounted,
Sat on a rock, rejoicing, and thus said:—
“Exalted, shrewd, and Lion of the fight!
Were my two eyes to see my sire alive
In sooth it would not be a greater joy
To me than to behold thee glad and happy,
Accomplished, wary, and a paladin.

Bahrám returning said to Tús: “May wisdom
And thy pure soul be mates! This is Farúd,
The son of guiltless, murdered Siyáwush!
He showed to me the mark which all the race
Inherit from Káús and Kai Kubád.”

Then for the second time the son-in-law
Of Tús came forth—the laughing-stock of heaven—
And left the road that leadeth to Charam
For Mount Sapad, his fierce heart set on outrage.
Farúd descried him from the mountain-top,
And, drawing from its case his royal bow,
Said to Tukhár the veteran: “Tús hath spurned
The message, for a horseman not Bahrám
Hath come! My heart is confident but heavy.
See if thou canst remember who he is.
Why is he clad in mail from head to foot?’
Tukhár replied: “A valiant cavalier,
Rívníz by name. He is an only son
With forty sisters like the jocund spring.
He is unserupulous, sly, plausible,
Accomplished, young, and son-in-law to Tús.”
Farúd returned: “Such talk is not for war-time.
If he approach for combat I will send him
To sleep upon his sisters' skirts. If merely
Mine arrow make him feel its wind in passing,
And he surviveth, hold me not a man.

Loose at the man; perchance the heart of Tús
May be perturbed for him. Tús knoweth not
Thy resolution for thou soughtest peace;
If he attacketh thee in wantonness
He will but bring disgrace upon thy brother.”
When sword in hand Rívníz drew nigh, Farúd
Strung his curved bow, shot down a poplar shaft,
And pinned the Rúman helmet to the head
Of him that came. He fell. His fleet steed left him.
Rívníz came headlong to the dust. When Tús,
The general, beheld this from Mayam
The mountain disappeared before his eyes!
Now wisdom hath a saw in this regard:—
“Man's evil nature is its own reward.”

Then Tús said to Zarásp: “Let thy heart flame
As 'twere Ázargashasp, don horsement's armour,
And take good heed of thine own life and person.
Thou mayst perchance avenge this noble chief,
Or if not I myself will seek for vengeance.”
Zarásp departed and assumed his helm.
With vengeful heart and windy pate he went
Toward Mount Sapad, like some fierce, vengeful lion,

A shout ascended from the Íránian host,
And all the warriors put on their helms.
Tús with a full heart and with weeping eyes
Donned his cuirass in haste. He greatly mourned
Those gallant chiefs and trembled like a leaf.
He mounted on his saddle and appeared
As 'twere the mountain-mass that men up pile
Upon the back of lusty elephants,
And turned his charger's reins toward Farúd
With heart revengeful and with head a-fume.

The youth attended

To what Tukhár said, strung his bow, and shot.
The poplar arrow struck the general's steed—
A bow-shot worthy of a cavalier—
The charger came down headlong and expired
While Tús both raged and blustered. He returned
To camp, his buckler hanging from his neck,
On foot, all dusty, and distraught in mind,
Farúd the while with gibes pursuing him:—
“What ailed the noble paladin, and how
Will he proceed amid the ranks of war
Who cannot fight a single horseman here?”
The women-slaves began to laugh, and sent
Their peals of laughter through the sky. They cried:—
“The old man staggereth down the mountain-slope,
Affrighted at the arrows of a youth!”
When Tús descended from the height the chiefs,
Full of concern, approached him, did obeisance,
And said: “O famous paladin of earth!
What can be better than thy safe return?
We have no cause to bathe our cheeks in tears.”
The noble Gív was grievously distressed
Because the valiant general had come back

Gív spake, armed in hot haste, and came forth proudly
Like wild sheep on the mountain. Seeing him
Farúd heaved from his breast a chilly sigh,
And said: “This warrior-host discerneth not
Between uphill and down! Each combatant
Is braver than the last—the crown of hosts—
But wit is lacking in their paladin;
A witless head is like a soulless body.
I fear me they will fail in their revenge
Unless Khusrau himself invade Túrán;
Then back to back will we avenge our sire,
And haply get our foes within our clutches.

He hath unfathered
Full many a little child. His foot hath been
On many a river, mount, and wilderness.
Full many a father too hath he unsonned,
And treadeth underfoot the lion's neck.
'Twas he that bare thy brother to Írán,
And crossed Jíhún although he saw no boat.^58a

They call him Gív—a very Elephant
Or river Nile upon the day of battle.
When thou shalt set thy thumbstall to the bow-string
Thy poplar arrow will not pierce his mail,
Because he weareth that of Siyáwush;^58b

So draw thy bow and let the arrow fly
Against his steed. The great beast may be wounded,
And Gív the rider may return afoot
With shield on neck as did their general.”
The brave prince bent his bow until the top
Was at his shoulder, shot, and struck Gív's charger
Upon the breast. Gív came down and retreated.
Then from the battlements of Mount Sapad
A shout rose. Gív's brain shrank before the jeers,
But all the mighty men approached him, saying:—
“Praise be to God, exalted warrior!
Because the horse is hurt and thou art not,
Nor art thou captured but can'st go again.”
Bízhan the warrior came to Gív like wind,
And uttered words most unacceptable:—^58c

He spake in savage tones,

Which when Bízhan perceived he showed his back,
And Gív in fury at his levity
Lashed at Bízhan's head with a riding-whip,
And said: “Did no one ever teach thee this—
That circumspection is required in war?
Thou hast no wisdom, providence, or brains,
And may he cease to be that nurtured thee.”
Bízhan was pained because his sire was wroth,
And swore an oath before the Almighty Judge:—
“I will not take the saddle off my steed
Until I have avenged Zarásp or perished.”
Departing with a heart oppressed by care,
And head all vengeance, unto Gustaham
He spake thus: “Let me have a steed of thine—
A handy one, such as will climb with ease
The mountain-side—so that I may assume
My mail that one of us may seem a man.
A Turkman hath ascended to the heights,
So as to draw the eyes of all the host,
And I desire to go and fight with him
Because my soul is darkened by his deeds.”
But Gustaham: “This is not well. Climb not
The height so rashly! When we have to march
The world will be all ups and downs and waste.
Now of my horses fit to carry armour
I have but two remaining, and if he
Destroy one I shall not obtain another
To take its place in action, strength, and size.
Zarásp—a world-lord—with Rívníz, and Tús,
Who holdeth all the world of no account,
And thine own sire, that hunter of fierce lions,
Who recketh not how heaven's wheel may turn,
Have all retreated from him with sore hearts;
None made a fight against that Mount of Flint.
Would that we had a vulture's wings or eagle's,
For none will get inside the hold afoot!”
Bízhan replied to him: “Break not my heart,
Break not mine arms and shoulders too just now,
For I have sworn a great oath by the moon,
The world's Judge, and the Sháh's own diadem,
That if I am not slain I will not ride
Back from the mountain but avenge Zarásp.”
Then Gustaham replied: “This is not good,
For wisdom doth not recognise such fierceness.”
Bízhan responded: “I will go afoot,
And so avenge Zarásp: I need no horse.”
Then answered Gustaham: “I would not have
A single hair to perish from thy head;
And if I had a hundred thousand steeds,
Whose manes and tails were full of royal gems,
I would not keep them or my treasure, life,
Or iron mace or falchion back from thee.
Go thou, inspect my horses each in turn,
And take whichever of them thou preferrest.
Bid that be saddled. If 'tis slain so be it.”
He had one charger that was like a wolf,
Long in the barrel, tall, and spirited:
They mailed it for the brave, young atheling.
Gív, mindful of Farúd's deeds, fumed at heart
Thereat, then sent and summoned Gustaham,
And uttered many a saw concerning youth.

Farúd said to Tukhár: “Another chief
Hath come! Look forth, see who he is, and who
Will weep for him.”

That man of words replied:—

“There is not one to match him in Írán,
For he is Gív's son and a valiant hero
Victorious like a lion in all combats.
Gív hath no other son, and this is dearer
To him than life and wealth. Direct thy hand
Against the steed, and break not the Sháh's heart.
Bízhan too hath the mail, and Gív hath linked
The gorget of the helm, of Siyáwush
Thereto. These neither double-headed dart
Nor shaft can pierce. Bízhan may fight afoot.
Thou wilt not shine as his antagonist;
He graspeth, look! a sword of adamant.”
Farúd's shaft struck the charger of Bízhan:
Thou wouldst have said: “It had no life.” It fell,
And when Bízhan had disengaged himself
He made toward the summit, sword in hand,
And shouted: “O thou valiant cavalier!
Remain and see now how a Lion fighteth,
And realise how heroes though unhorsed
Will still advance to battle with the sword.
Thou shalt behold it if thou wilt await me,
For thou shalt never think of fighting more.”

Now when the shining sun had disappeared,
And dark night led its host across the sky,

He said: “Why such to-do?

If life is o'er for me, and thou canst count not
On further respite for me, mine own sire
Was slain in youth, my life is wreeked like his.
Gurwí's hand put a period to his days,
And now Bízhan is eager for my death;
Yet will I struggle, perish wretchedly,
And not ask quarter of the Íránians.”
He gave out mail and maces to the troops,
He placed a splendid helm upon his head,
And with a Rúman breastplate girt about him
Came with a royal bow grasped in his hand.
Now when the shining sun displayed its face,
And proudly mounted to the vault of heaven,

He spake, his cheeks grew wan,

His spirit soared away 'mid grief and anguish.
As 'twere a conjurer this drunken sky
Deludeth us with tricks—threescore and ten—
At whiles employing blast or cloud and then
The sword or dagger or the agency
Of some unworthy wight. At whiles to one
Plunged in calamity 'twill grant relief,
At whiles allot crown, treasury, and throne,
At whiles chain, dungeon, bitterness, and grief!
Man must accept his lot whate'er it be;
Mine own affliction is my poverty.
The man of wisdom, had he died at birth,
Had suffered not the heat and cold of earth,
But, living after birth, hath want and stress,
Constrained to weep a life of wretchedness.
Woe for his heart, his usance, and intents!
His pillow is the dust in all events.

Now when in failure thus had passed away
Farúd, the hapless and inglorious son
Of Siyáwush, the slave-girls scaled the roof,
And dashed them to the ground. Jaríra kindled
A pyre and burned the treasures. Sword in hand
She locked the stable of the Arab steeds,
Hamstrung, and ripped them up. All blood and
sweat
She sought the couch of glorious Farúd,
Upon whose coverlet a dagger lay,
And, having pressed her cheeks upon his face,
Ripped up herself and died upon his breast.
The Íránians forced the portal of the hold,
Prepared for pillaging, but when Bahrám
Approached those walls his heart was rent with sorrow.
He sought the couch of glorious Farúd,
With cheeks all tears and heart a-fume, and thus
Addressed the Íránians: “Here is one by far
More wretched and dishonoured than his sire,
For Siyáwush did not destroy his slaves,
Nor was his mother slain upon his couch,
Though round him likewise all his palace flamed,
And all his home and goods were razed and burned.
Still heaven's hands are long enough to reach
The wicked, and it turneth not in love

When Tús the general had made an end
Of fighting with Farúd, and left the heights,
He halted at Charam three days. The blare
Of trumpets rose upon the fourth; then Tús
Led forth the host and sounded pipe and tymbal,
While all the earth from mountain unto mountain
Turned ebon. Whatso Turkman troops he saw
He slew and flung them down upon the road,
Left all the marches neither woof nor warp,
And thus proceeded to the Kása rúd,
Where he encamped the army: all the earth
Was covered by his tents.

“Troops from Írán

Are at the Kása rúd!” Such tidings reached
Túrán, and from the Turkmans there came forth
Shrewd Paláshán, a youthful warrior,
The leader of their host, to view the foe,
And count the camp-enclosures and the flags.
Within the lines there was a rising ground
On one side, and unoccupied by troops:
There Gív was sitting with Bízhan, conversing
On matters great and small. Appeared the flag
Of Paláshán, come from the Turkman host,
Upon the road, whereat the gallant Gív
Unsheathed his sword. “I will go forth,” quoth he,
“Behead, or bring him captive to our folk.”
Bízhan said: “Man of name! the Sháh bestowed
A robe of honour on me for this end;

Bízhan replied:—

“Oh! put me not to shame before the world-lord
By speaking thus, but let me have the armour
Of Siyáwush. Be mine to hunt this Leopard.”
Then gallant Gív gave him the coat of mail.
Bízhan, when he had made the buckles fast,
Bestrode a rapid charger, and rode off
Upon the desert with a spear in hand.
Now Paláshán, who had brought down a deer,
Was roasting some kabáb upon a fire,
And eating with his bow upon his arm,
The while his horse was ranging free to graze
It saw afar the charger of Bízhan,
Neighed loudly, and ran in; so Paláshán
Knew that a horseman came prepared for fight,
And shouted to Bízhan: “I fling down lions,
And fetter dívs. Declare thy name; thy star
Shall weep for thee.”

He said: “Bízhan am I—

A brazen-bodied dív when fight is toward.
My grandsire is a Lion of the fray,
My sire is gallant Gív, and thou shalt see
My prowess. This brave day, when battle breatheth,
Thou, like a carrion wolf⁷⁰

upon the mountains,
Eat'st ashes, smoke, and blood! How cometh it
That thou art leading troops upon the waste?”
He answered not but gave his mighty steed

Thereafter tidings reached Afrásiyáb:—
“The marches of Túrán are like a sea:
A host hath reached the Kása rúd, and earth
Is blackened in revenge for Siyáwush.”
The king said to Pírán: “Khusrau hath made
His object clear; perchance we may prevent him
By marching forth with flags and drums in force;
If not the army from Írán will come,
And we shall see not shining sun or moon.
Go gather troops together from all quarters;
Few words are needed.”

On the Íránian side

A tempest rose and none took thought of fight;
A dense cloud came like flying dust, their lips
Congealed with cold, the tents and camp-enclosures
Were turned to ice, snow carpeted the mountains,
And for a sennight's space earth disappeared.
There was but little food or rest or sleep:
Thou wouldst have said: “Earth's face is turned to
stone.”
They slew and ate their horses. Multitudes
Of men and cattle perished. None at last
Possessed a charger. When the eighth day came
The sun prevailed, the earth was like a sea,
The troops were mustered, and Tús spake of fight;

“Ázargashasp

Is not more famed than was Zarásp the brave,”
Said Tús, “nor was Farúd slain innocent.
'Twas written thus, and what hath been hath been.
Look through the host and see whom thou canst find
In courage and in aspect like Rívníz,
Through whom my cup was filled with wine and milk.
His form was youthful but his words were sage.
Now let us speak no further of the past,
Or whether he was justly slain or not;
And since Gív took a present from the Sháh
That he might set that mass of faggots blazing,
Which now is in the way, 'tis time to do it,
And light up heaven with the conflagration;
Thus we may gain a passage for the troops.”
Gív said to him: “This will not be a toil,
Or, if it be, a toil not unrequited.”
Bízhan was grieved: “I cannot give,” he said,
“Consent to this. Thou rearedst me in stress
And hardihood, without a chiding word:

Tús, when the host was mustered, left the fire
For Giravgard. They marched in fair array,
Camped on the hills and plains, took due precautions,
And hurried out the scouts on every side.
Tazháv the cavalier—one used to fight
With lions—dwelt at Giravgard and kept
The herds there, driving them from hill to hill.
News came: “A host hath come forth from Írán:
The cattle must be driven out of reach.”
He sent a warrior with all dispatch
To tell a herdsman of Afrásiyáb's—
Kabúda hight, an able man withal,
And there was need for his ability:—

The voice of chanticleer and lark

Arose, and yet Kabúda came not back:
Tazháv the warrior was sad at heart,
Aware that evil had befallen him;
Then summoned all the troops that were about
Available, and promptly led them out.

Then from the nobles Gív

Went forth to him, escorted by a troop
Of valiant warriors, fiercely asked his name,
And said: “O lover of the fray! hast come
With such a force as this to meet the claws
Of Crocodiles?”

The bold Tazháv replied:—

“A lusty heart and lion's claws are mine.
Tazháv am I, I fling down men and pluck
The heads of valiant Lions from their trunks.
By birth and worth I am Íránian,
Sprung from the warriors and the Lions' seed.
Now I am marchlord of the country round—
A chosen chief, the king's own son-in-law.”
Gív said: “Nay say not so, 'twill dim thy glory.
Would any leave Írán and settle here
Unless he lived on blood or colocynth?
If thou art marchlord and king's son-in-law
How is it that thou hast not mightier powers?
With such a band as this seek not the fray,
Nor go with vehemence against the brave;
For I who speak—a hero worshipful
And famous—trample on the heads of marchlords.
If thou with all thy troops wilt do my bidding,
And hence depart Íránward to the Sháh,
Go first of all to Tús our general,
Apply to him, and hearken to his words.
I will take care that thou shalt have a gift
From him—goods, slaves, and steeds caparisoned.
This seemeth well to me, O prudent man!
What say'st thou? Shall I have to fight to-day?”

Then Bízhan exclaimed:—

“O famous chief—engrosser of the fight,
Exalted and shrewd-hearted paladin!
In age thou art not as thou wast in youth.
Why givest thou this counsel to Tazháv?
Why so much love and amity for him?
Our business is to draw the sword and mace,
And to cut out these peoples' hearts and brains.”
He urged his steed; the battle-cry went up;
They laid upon their shoulders sword and mace.
A cloud of murky dust rose in the midst
So that the sun became invisible,
The world grew gloomy as a winter's cloud,
And men beheld not shining star or moon.
Bold Gív who used to rob the sky of lustre
Was in the midst, Bízhan the deft of hand,
Who dallied not in action, led the van.
Tazháv, who wont to fight the rending lion,
And wore his crown, opposed them with Arzhang
To help him and Mardwí the Lion—two
That wearied not of fight yet gat small fruit
That day, for brave Arzhang withdrew himself,
The more part of the Turkman troops were slain,
And froward fortune turned its head away.
Tazháv the valiant fled. That famous Lion,
Bízhan, pursued him, shouting eagerly,

Afrásiyáb

Was grieved thereat and sought a remedy.
He spake thus to Pírán the son of Wísa:—
“I bade thee: ‘Gather troops from every side,’
But thou hast loitered through old age or sloth,
Or disaffection; many of our kin
Are slain, and watchful fortune's face is from us;
But now we may not tarry, for the world
Hath grown strait even to the vigilant!”
Then all in haste Pírán the general
Went from the presence of Afrásiyáb,
Called up the troops from all the provinces,
Served arms out, paid the soldiers, and marched forth.
The frontier passed he gave each man his post,

Out of that noble host Pírán made choice
Of thirty thousand horse with scimitars,
Who marched at dead of night; no tymbal sounded,
No trumpet blared, none raised the battle-cry.
Now when the wary chief led forth his troops
Seven leagues remained betwixt them and the foe,
And first they came upon the Íránians' herds
At large upon the desert of Túrán,
Took many beasts and bore them off withal—
Mishap unparalleled! The overseers
And herdsmen were all slain, the Íránians' fortune
Had grown averse. Thence like a murky cloud
The Turkmans marched upon the Íránian host—
All drunken and disposed in groups unarmed;
Howbeit Gív was in his tent alert,
Gúdarz the chieftain sober. Then arose
The war-cry with the crash of battle-axes,
And Gív—that fight-engrosser—was astound.

The Íránians were hemmed in,

The war-cry rose, the tumult dazed the drunken,
A cloud ascended and its rain was arrows.
Soft pillows were beneath the drunkards' heads,
Above were sword, hot mace, and scimitar.
Now when dawn showed forth from the Sign of Leo,
And gallant Gív surveyed the host, he saw
The waste all covered with Íránian slain,
And watchful fortune's head averse from them.
Gúdarz too looked about on every side;
The foemen's number grew continually;
Against the little force there ranged itself
A host like ants and locusts. Tús too looked,
And saw no fighting-men save Gív, Gúdarz,
And other cavaliers all sore bestead.⁸²

will do to thee how canst thou know?
The more part of the Íránian troops were slain,
The rest had come back wounded; at their beds
No leeches were, but grief and tears of blood.
Tús battle-maddened was beside himself,
So to Gúdarz the hoary veteran,
Deprived of child and grandchild, home and land,^83a

There came the other veteran warriors
With broken hearts to seek his leadership.
He placed a watchman on a mountain-top
To keep his eyes intently on the foe,^83b

While outposts went their rounds on every side
To find perchance a cure for this distress.
He bade a noble of the Íránians
To girdle up his loins to give the Sháh
The news of what the captain of the host
Had done, and how, by their ill day opprest,
They had small profit from their vengeance-quest.

The courier carried to the Sháh the tidings
Of that eclipse of fortune. Brave Khusrau
Was troubled when he heard, his bosom throbbed
With grief. To anguish at his brother's case
Was added anguish on the troops' account.

Tús with the flag of Káwa,

And forty warriors wearing golden boots,
I sent out with a host against Túrán,
And, first fruit of revenge, my brother perished!
Let not Irán have such another chief!
Let not the host have such another leader!
Alas! Alas! my brother, young Farúd—
The head of nobles and the stay of heroes!
I was in tears of anguish for my sire,
A long while was I burning in that sorrow,
And now my brother is the cause of tears!
I know not who are friends and who are foes.
‘Go not,’ I said to Tús, ‘toward Charam;
Breathe not upon Kalát or Mount Sapad,
Because Farúd is with his mother there.
He is a warrior of royal race;

So Faríburz, since he was paladin
As well as prince, assumed the casque and bade
Ruhhám display his name and native worth
By going from the mountain to Pírán
To treat with him: “Go to Pírán,” he said,
“Convey to him a friendly embassage,
And say: ‘The process of the turning sky
Hath been fraught ever thus with hate and love:
It lifteth one to heaven on high, another
It maketh vile, sad, and calamitous,
Him specially that seeketh warriors' hurt.
Now night-attacks are not the wont of heroes
And mighty men that brandish massive maces.
If thou wilt cease from arms we too will cease;
If thou preferrest war then we will fight,

When with the ending of the month came war,
For they observed their compact honourably,
The soldiers' shouts went up on every side,
And all set forward to the battlefield;
The din of trumpet, drum, and bell shook heaven,
While what with chargers' crests, reins, hands, and
swords,
Bows, battle-axes, lances, maces, bucklers,
And lassos, gnats could find no way. “The world,”

Upon the right

Was Gív son of Gúdarz, an archimage
And marchlord, on the left the skilled Ashkash,
Who shed blood in a river when he fought;
Before the standard at the army's centre
Was Faríburz, the son of Sháh Káús,
With men of battle. He harangued his troops,
And said: “Till now our prowess hath been hidden,
But we will fight to-day as lions fight,
And make the world too narrow for our foes;
Else will our maces and our Rúman casques
Laugh at the host for this disgrace for ever.”
They made a heavy rain of arrows fall
Like autumn tempests beating on a tree.
For arrows and the dust of shouting troops
No bird had room to fly, the falchions shone
Like diamonds and flamed amid the dust.
Thou wouldst have said: “Earth is a negro's face;
The stars are warriors' hearts.” The multitudes
Of maces, spears, and trenchant scimitars
Brought Doomsday on the world. Gív from the centre
Advanced with lips a-foam and raised his war-cry.
He with the noble kinsmen of Gúdarz,
With whom the issue lay for good or ill,

They took their stand and plied

The mace. Full many a noble foe was slain,
But fortune favoured not the Íránians.
Then old Gúdarz said to Bízhan: “Depart
Hence quickly, take with thee thy mace, and arrows,
Direct thy horse's reins toward Faríburz,
And bring me Káwa's standard. It may be
That Faríburz will come with it himself,
And flush the face of earth with violet.”
Bízhan on hearing this urged on his steed,
Came like Ázargashasp to Faríburz,
And said to him: “Why art thou hiding here?
Employ thy reins as warriors use to do,
And stay no longer on the mountain-top;
But if thou wilt not come entrust to me
The flag and horsemen with their blue steel swords.”
But Faríburz, no mate for wisdom then,
Cried out: “Away! Thou art in action rash
And new to war. The Sháh gave me the standard,
The host, crown, throne, and leadership. This flag
Becometh not Bízhan the son of Gív,
Or any other warrior in the world.”
Bízhan laid hand upon his blue steel sword,
Struck at the standard, clove it in the midst,
Seized half thereof and, rushing from the throng,
Made off to bear the banner to the host.
Now, when the Turkmans saw it on the way,
A band of lion-hearted warriors
Went toward Bízhan and drew their iron sparths,
And blue steel swords, to fight for Káwa's standard.
Then spake Húmán: “Yon is the violet flag
Wherein is all the virtue of Írán;

Bízhan strung up his bow

As quick as dust, discharged a shower of arrows
Upon his foes, and, as he drove them back,
Prepared a banquet for the ravening wolf.
The cavaliers hard by said unto Gív
And Gustaham: “The Turkmans are retreating;
Perchance Bízhan is coming with the standard.”
The brave chiefs of the Íránian host advancing
With massive maces slew the Turkman horse
In numbers. Famed Bízhan arrived apace,
And thence the chieftains held the ground for him
Up to the host. Like lion fierce he came
With Káwa's flag, the soldiers gathered round it,
And air grew violet-dim with horsemen's dust.
Once more the Íránian host advanced to fight,
And in the foremost rank Rívníz was slain,
Who was as dear as life to Kai Káús,
A younger son, a prince who wore a crown,
Beloved by Faríburz. When that head fell
Full many a noble hero rent his clothes,
And Gív exclaimed: “Chiefs, valiant warriors!
Upon this field of battle Faríburz,
The son of Sháh Káús, esteemed Rívníz
Above all else. The grandson and the son
Of old Káús—Farúd the son of Siyáwush
And now Rívníz—have perished all in vain!
What greater wonder hath the world in store?

Now brave Pírán,

The noble chieftain, heard the words of Gív,
And o'er that crown the battle rose afresh.
On both sides many fell and fortune quitted
The Íránians, yet Bahrám the warrior
Charged lion-like the foe and carried off
The crown upon his spear-point, while both hosts
Stood wondering, the Íránians full of joy
At rescuing that crown so late assumed.
The combat waxed more fierce, none turned aside,
They raged and smote each other on the head
Until the day grew dark, and eyes were baffled.
Eight of the kinsmen of Gúdarz survived;
The rest had fallen on the battlefield.⁹⁴

Of Gív's seed there had perished five and twenty—
Men who were fit for diadem and treasure—
With seventy of the offspring of Káús,
All cavaliers and Lions in the fight,
Besides Rívníz that crownèd warrior,
No unit merely in the reckoning.
Nine hundred horsemen, kinsmen of Pírán,
Were missing in the battle on that day,
While of the lineage of Afrásiyáb
The fortunes of three hundred slept, howbeit
The field, the day, and therewithal the standard—
The lustre of the world—were with Pírán:

That night, when both the armies were at rest,

Moreover Sháh Káús bestowed upon me

Bahrám misread

God's purpose, and his fortune proved averse.
The fool is all agog to take his leap
Just when his fortune falleth into sleep!
Bahrám pricked forth by moonlight to the field,
And bitterly bewailed the slain, those luckless
And heart-seared ones. The body of Rívníz
Was whelmed in blood and dust, his tunic rent.
Bahrám the Lion wept for him and cried:—
“Alas! O young and valiant cavalier!
Men slain like thee are but a pinch of dust!
For nobles palaces, for thee a trench!”
Among his brethren flung on that broad plain
He roamed. One, stricken by the scimitar,
Of all those chiefs still lived. He marked Bahrám,
Wailed, asked his name, and said: “O Lion! I live,
Though flung among the slain, and I have craved
For two days bread and water and a robe
To sleep upon!”

Bahrám made haste to him

With loving spirit and a kinsman's heart,

The troops on their return informed Pírán
Of that youth's deeds, and much talk passed thereon.
Pírán inquired: “Who is this man? What name
Hath he among the noble?”

One replied:—

“Bahrám the lion-queller, the host's lustre.”
Pírán said to Rúín: “Arise. Bahrám
Can not escape. If thou canst take him living
The age will rest from strife. Take troops enough,
For he is famed and valiant.”

Rúín went off on hostile thoughts intent.
Bahrám perceived him quick as dust and showered
Shafts on him, sitting on a mound the while,
A Lion bold with shield before his head.
Rúín son of Pírán was arrow-pierced,
The others lost all keenness for the fight.
They came disheartened to the paladin,
Full of concern and dudgeon, saying thus:—
“None ever fought so, and we have not seen
In any stream so fierce a crocodile.”
Pírán was sore distraught at this account,
And trembled like the leaf upon the tree;
Then mounting on his fiery steed went forth,
Accompanied by many warriors,
And coming to Bahrám said: “Famous chief!
Why is it that thou combatest afoot?
When thou wast in Túrán with Siyáwush⁹⁹

Thou usedst to be prudent, shrewd, reserved:
We should eat bread and salt together, we
Should sit together and become fast friends.
With such high lineage and native worth,
Such lion-manhood and exceeding prowess,
Thy head must not be levelled with the dust,
And kin and country sorrow for thy sake.
Come let us make a covenant by oath
On such wise as shall satisfy thy heart;
Then will I make affinity with thee
And, having made it, will advance thee more.
Thou canst not fight against these famous troops
On foot! Be not a traitor to thyself.”
Bahrám said: “Paladin wise, shrewd, and ardent,
My lips have tasted nothing for three days,
And day and night have I been combating;

When bright Sol showed its back, Gív, heart-oppressed
About his brother, spake thus to Bízhan:—
“Joy of my heart! my brother cometh not!

Gív, when Bahrám

Had spoken this, wept tears of gall and said:—
“I swear by God the Judge Omnipotent,
By white day and by azure night that till
I shall avenge Bahrám my head shall see
No covering save a Rúman helm.”

All vengeance

And grief he mounted, Indian sword in hand.

“Pernicious wretch!”

Said Gív, “spare thine excuse and futile words.”

Then wallowing in the dust

Before Bahrám he cried: “O noble man!
I will be thy soul's slave and wait upon
The keeper of thy tomb.”

Then said Bahrám

To Gív: “Whoever liveth hath to die.
Though he hath done me hurt he need not taste
The pangs of death, so spare his guilty head
That he may keep my memory alive.”
But Gív, who saw his brother with such wounds,
And him that did the hurt a captive, seized
Tazháv's beard with a shout and headed him
As 'twere a lark! Bahrám wept blood and marvelled
At heaven's processes, then raised a cry
Whose like, so strange it was, none ever heard:—
“If I shall slay, or thou slay in my presence,
My brothers or my kinsmen will be slain!”
This said, the brave Bahrám gave up the ghost.
'Tis ever thus with this world! He that would
Obtain the reins must bathe his hands in blood,
Slay or be slain! Shun thou ambition's mood.

When bright Sol topped the mountains, and the head
And crown of white day showed, the scattered troops
Began to gather, and their converse ran:—
“Full many of the Íránian host are slain!
Our leader's fortune hath deserted him,
So mighty were the Turkmans' hands in fight!
The army must not tarry longer here:
We verily must go before the Sháh,
And see how fortune turneth. If his heart
Be not intent on war then thou and I
Have no occasion to exert ourselves.
The sires have lost their sons, the sons their sires,
And most are wounded or in sore distress;
But if the Sháh shall bid us to engage,
And shall equip a noble host, then we
Will march, our hearts filled with revenge and strife,
And make the world too narrow for our foes.”
Thus minded they retreated from those marches,
Their eyes surcharged with tears, their hearts with
anguish,

Now that the story of Farúd is ended
Hear the campaign wherein Kámús contended.

THE poet, having offered up his praises to the Maker, goes on to tell of the wrath of Kai Khusrau with the host. Ultimately, however, at Rustam's request, he restores Tús to favour, and sends him against Túrán. Tús is again unsuccessful, and is beleaguered on a mountain. The news reaches Kai Khusrau, who dispatches Rustam with reinforcements, while Afrásiyáb sends Kámús of Kashán and the Khán of Chín with vast hosts to assist his general Pírán. Fierce fighting follows, and Kámús is slain by Rustam.

In its earlier scenes this campaign is a variant of the preceding one. In both Tús commands the Íránians and is defeated, in both the Gúdarzians suffer great losses, in both there are a snowstorm and a night-attack, and in both the Íránians take refuge on a mountain. Naturally the details vary, but the general similarity is unmistakable. Nothing but the existence of a variant can account for the fact that Tús is put in command again after his behaviour in the first campaign, and there is a legend, probably known to Firdausí, which puts a different complexion on the matter.¹⁰⁸

In the poem the difficulty is got over by the intervention of Rustam, who begs the culprit off, as he does later on in the case of Gurgín.^108a

In the second night-attack, in which the positions of assailants and defenders are reversed, Húmán takes just the part that Gív is represented as taking on the first occasion.

If we are content to regard the account given in the poem of the latter part of this campaign merely as Firdausí has presented it, perhaps we may identify the Kashán with which Kámús' name is associated as that mentioned by Tabarí^108b

and situated in Ferghána, which is now a province of Russian Turkistán. We ought not, however, to overlook the probability that reminiscences of the Parthian civil wars of the days of Gotarzes and Vardanes have been embodied in the story. In this case, as in that of the wars of Gushtásp and Arjásp later on, what in reality were civil broils came in time to be looked back upon as wars between Írán and Túrán. With the historical fact of the great Persian satraps ranging themselves in opposing camps before us, there seems no reason why the Kashán originally intended may not have been the one in Persia on the highroad between Ispahán and Tihrán. Firdausí's account, however, clearly favours that in Turkistán, and we must not forget that the nomads took part in the contention between the rival Parthian princes.¹⁰⁹

§ 28. The story of Rustam's fight with Ashkabús is famous both on account of its own merits and for the curious legend told in connexion with it. One day, it is said, at the court of Mahmúd a discussion arose as to the merits of Firdausí as a poet, and it was arranged between his supporters and detractors in the presence of the Sultán that he should put one of the legends, of which nothing but the bare facts remained, into verse the same day, to ascertain how far his version could be considered an improvement on the original. The story chosen was that of Rustam's fight with Ashkabús of Kashán. Firdausí's rendering of the episode delighted the assembly, the lines about the stringing and discharging of the bow especially fascinating Mahmúd, who repeated them several times and praised them highly. That night Firdausí dreamed that he met Rustam at the gate of Makná Bád. The here was on foot, fully armed, of terrible aspect, and with how in hand, just as the poet had described him. Rustam greeted the poet graciously, but wept and said: “I desire to pay my debt to thee, but have not power to do so. However, when I took the torque from the neck of the fee, and desired not to retain it, I made a hole in the ground yonder with the head of my spear, and buried the torque there. Go now and take it up.” He pointed out a little hillock on the sand, and, having placed an arrow upon his bow, shot at it. Firdausí remembered the dream and, some time afterward, happening to pass by Makná Bád in attendance on the Sultán, he made the story known. The mound was excavated, and several torques of red gold were discovered. The Sultán gave them to Firdausí, who refused to keep them for himself, and distributed them among the other court poets.^109a

I know not how to praise Him though in thought
I pour my soul. He fashioned space and time;
The emmet's foot with proofs of Him is fraught.
From yonder circling sun to earthly grime,
Bright fire, air, water, all are witnesses,
And give thy soul assurance, that He is.

Let it be thine the Maker to revere,
Who hath no need of aught, no need of crown
And throne, of minister and treasurer,
Of less or more, of fortune's smile or frown;
Yet, though He needeth naught, His slaves are we,
And bow before His bidding and decree.

Since He created wisdom and the mind,
Past doubt, and set the heaven and stars on high,
In Him supreme the sole Creator find,
And Source of happiness and misery,

Of Rustam's wondrous deeds there is no scant,
His legend in the hearts of all is rife;
A crocodile in water, elephant
On land, wise, shrewd of heart, a man of strife,
Consummate both in war and valiancy,
A man of knowledge, wit, and weight was he.

His battle with Kámús I next present
In mine own words but based on document,
So turn now to the rustic minstrel's lay,
Mark what that man world-proven hath to say.

The troops with Faríburz, Gúdarz, and Gív—
The shatterer of hosts—went to Írán
In grief with tearful cheeks. When they had reached
The road toward Charam and had Kalát
Above, the waters of Mayam below,
They spake about the conflict with Farúd,
And all their gain was anguish and remorse.
Fear of the Sháh filled every heart with pain,
For they were guilty and their eyes wept blood.
They came before Khusrau with souls abashed,
With wounded livers, and as men in fault
For having slain their monarch's blameless brother,
And yielded crown and signet to the foe;
They came with hearts seared and with folded arms,
As slaves are wont, before their sovereign.
Khusrau regarded them with angry looks;
His heart was full of pain, his eyes of tears,
And thus he spake to God: “O righteous Judge!
Thou gavest to me fortune, throne, and prowess,
But now I shame before Thee. Thou dost know,
Far better than I know, the why and how

He writhed

With stricken liver to avenge his brother
And father's blood, dismissed the troops disgraced,

When Sol had gilt earth's face, and darksome night
Was taken in the toils, shouts rose before
The palace portal and the peerless Rustam
Came to the Sháh, and said: “O great Khusrau!
Throne, crown, and signet-ring rejoice in thee.
The Sháh is wroth with Tús and with the host,
But pardon their wrong-doing for my sake.
When Tús beheld his son and son-in-law
Both slaughtered, prudence left his brain and heart,
For first, he is not wise but choleric,
And next, a son's life is no light concern;
So when Rívníz was slain before his face,
And that proud cavalier Zarásp withal,
No wonder if he blazed. The Sháh should not
Take vengeance on him. Then again the host

Kai Khusrau replied:—

“O paladin! I sorrowed for this youth,
But now thy rede is solace to my soul,
Though still I ache at heart.”

Then Rustam kissed

The ground before the monarch of the world.
So when the sun had shot its rays on high,
And hastened to ascend upon its curve,
When it had rent its turquoise robes of gloom,
So that its ruddy, shining form showed through,
The general, Gív, and other warriors
Approached the Sháh with blessings, and Tús said:—
“Live fortunate till time shall be no more.
Be earth the basis of thy crown and throne,
And heaven the guardian of thy Grace and fortune.
My heart is sorrowful, my liver wounded
With pain for my misdeed, my mind is full
Of shame, my tongue is all excuse, my soul
All fault, I burn as 'twere Ázargashasp
In anguish for the pure souls of Farúd
And of Zarásp. If I am guiltier
Than others I am writhing for my deed.
When valued with Bahrám and with Rívníz
Mine own life is not worth a single mite;
So if the Sháh will cease from wrath with me,
And with this noble but offending host,
I will go forth to cancel this disgrace,
And will exalt our fallen heads anew;

When bright Sol showed, and when from night's bent
bow
Dawn brake, Tús with the great men of the host
Came to Khusrau who said: “Trace of this feud
Is never lost. Begun by Salm and Túr
It had fresh impulse given by Minúchihr,
But never was a Sháh so shamed as I,
Or earth so glutted with his warriors' gore!
The hills have girt them with Gúdarzians' blood
For whom weep bird and fish by land and sea.
O'er the Túránians' waste the Íránians' hands
And feet and trunks lie scattered! Are your counsels
Auspicious? Are ye all heart-stirred to vengeance?”
The gallant warriors, with folded arms
Before that sunlike and aspiring one,
All kissed the ground together—warriors,
Such as Ruhhám, Gurgín, Gúdarz, and Tús,
Kharrád and Zanga son of Sháwarán,
Bízhan and Gív and other men of might.

A cameleer bore blast-like to Pírán
This message: “I have reached the river Shahd
In arms and ready to contend with thee.”
Pírán, on hearing this, was sorely grieved
That, 'gainst his will, he needs must pack the loads,
And went forth with his chiefs—choice cavaliers
And brave—to learn about the Íránian host,
How many chiefs, and who, were there with Tús.
He drew his troops up on his side the stream,
And sent a greeting to the Íránian chief.
He said: “I everywhere showed kindliness
To Farangís and to the Sháh. I cried,
And seethed as on fierce fire, for Siyáwush;
But now the antidote doth bear the bane,
I share in all these ills.”

Tús was distressed,

Grieved at the words and sufferings of Pírán,

The envoy went like wind

Back to Pírán and told what he had heard
From Tús and from Gúdarz of ardent soul.
Pírán made answer: “I by night and day
Will ope my lips to praise the chieftain Tús.
I will go over, taking of my kin
Those who are wise and list to mine advice,
And send them, bag and baggage, to Írán.
An honoured head is more than crown and throne.”
He did not purpose acting in this way,
But sought to gain occasion by delay.

Pírán dispatched a camel-post by night
To tell Afrásiyáb: “Troops have arrived
With shawms and tymbals from Írán, commanded
By Gív, Gúdarz, and Tús, whom I have duped
And much advised with. Choose a warrior-host
Or else the war will be inglorious.
We may uproot the foe and fire their land,

There was a famous Turkman named Arzhang,
One whose renown in warfare reached the clouds.
He sent the dust up from the battlefield,
And challenged the Íránians. Tús from far
Saw him and shouted, drew his sword and asked
That son of Zira: “What name bearest thou?
Who is thy fellow in the Turkman host?”
He said: “Arzhang am I, a warrior—
A noble Lion who can bide his time.
Now will I make the earth quake under thee,
And cast thy head upon the field of fight.”

Then said Húmán:—

“To-day we will prepare. Be not cast down.
If any noble of the Íránians
Shall come to challenge us we will dispatch
A man to fight him and will mark the issue,
But not provoke them rashly. What we need
Is respite for a day, but when the host
Is stirring, and the tymbals sound in camp,
Then from beyond the stream be onslaught made
With mace in hand if God and fortune aid.”

Húmán bestrode and spurred his eagle-steed.
Thou wouldst have said: “He is an iron wall,
Or Mount Alburz in mail!” He came before
The host to fight and grasped a glittering spear.
Tús too advanced; earth rang with clarion-blare.

Húmán replied:—

“Be not o'er-weening for it is not good.
Though fate hath come upon one luckless chief,
And by thy hand, hold not the rest in scorn.
Arzhang had deemed himself no man at all
If matched with me upon the day of battle.
But have the Íránian warriors no shame?
Doth not the warm blood boil in any breast
In that their leader hath to champion them?
Have their hands failed to fight? Where are Bízhan
And Gív—those noble ones—and where Gúdarz,
Son of Kishwád, that taker of the world?
If thou art paladin why hast thou left
The centre for the field? The wise will own not
Thy kinship and the sane will hold thee mad.
Go, hold up Káwa's standard; generals
Come not to fight in person. Look for one
On whom the Sháh bestowed a robe of honour,
Some warrior in quest of crown and signet,
And order him to battle with the Lion,
And bring the hand of the high-handed down.
Ill would befall this noble host of thine
If thou wert slain by me, thy troops become

Húmán said: “Right or wrong,

When bidden by a king of glorious race,

Then Húmán:—

“All heads beneath a crown or helm must die.
Since death must come 'tis best upon the field,
And by the hand of some skilled cavalier,
A leader, prince, and ardent warrior.”
Then, grasping each his massive mace, they charged.
Earth reeled, day darkened, and a dust-cloud gathered
Above the scene of strife. Thou wouldst have said:—
“The night hath come on them by day, the sun—
The lustre of the world—is blotted out!”
Those mighty maces clashed and bent like bows
Of Chách, the ring of steel rose to the sky,
The wind of that contention reached the Shahd!
Thou wouldst have said: “Stone heads are in those
helms,
Those warriors' blows have blackened death's own face!”
They took in hand their Indian scimitars,
And sent sparks streaming out of stone and steel

That Lion

Replied: “O brave and veteran warriors!
The day will bring us triumph, we shall take
Yon shining flag, all joy will be your portion,
And I shall have the stars of heaven for mine.”
Tús for his part was shouting through the night
Till cock-crow: “Is Húmán the man for me?
A raging lion should my foeman be.”

Now when high heaven had made its Crown of Jet,
And flung Pastilles on Lapislazuli,
The pickets hurried forth on every side,
And set the watch around the camps, but when
Sol showed in Cancer, and the world became
Fair as a Rúman's face, from both the camps
The sound of tymbals rose, the world was filled
With the blare of clarions, air was thick with flags,
Which gleamed red, yellow, black, and violet,

So Tús,

The chieftain, put the battle in array—
Men, drums, and elephants of war; the footmen
Went with the baggage to the heights, Gúdarz
Was on the right, Ruhhám shared with Gurgín
The left, the troops were ranked, anon the sky
Shook with the roar of drum and clarion,

Shídúsh,

Ruhhám, Gív, Gustaham, Kharrád, Fárhád,
And brave Barzín came forth between the hosts,
Came liver-wounded, eager for revenge,
Like troops of dívs upon a murky night,
While in all quarters din assailed the clouds.
Húmán on his side mountain-huge led forth
His army troop on troop, and none could tell,
Amid the mass of maces, mallets, swords,

Among the Turkmans there was one Bázúr
By name, adept in magic, versed in guile
And sorcery, and learnéd in the tongues
Of Chín and ancient Persia. To that warlock
Pírán said: “Scale the mountain-top and send

With a shout Húmán

Charged like a lusty dív. They slaughtered so
That 'twixt the lines there was a sea of gore,
The vales and wastes were filled with snow and blood,
The horsemen of Írán were overthrown,
Till corpses left no room to wheel; the ground
Was blocked by snow and fallen. Tús the leader
And other chiefs cried bitterly to heaven:—
“O Higher than all knowledge, sense, and reason,
Not at, or in, but everywhere! we all
Are Thy transgressing slaves and in our straits
Appeal to Thee, for Thou wilt help the helpless,
And art the Lord of fire and icy blast.
Deliver us from this excessive cold;
We look for aid to Thee and Thee alone.”
A sage approached Ruhhám and showed the height

Tús said to Gív:—

“Our soldiers' brains and wisdom are no mates
Since they have left us thus, and in their folly
Turned from the fight; go thou and rally them;
Protest our foemen's jeers, our monarch's shame.”
Gív went; the host returned; the plain and desert
Seemed filled with slain. Then Tús addressed the
captains:—
“This is a struggle and a strife of chiefs!

The Íránians drew back with heads abashed
And livers wounded for their friends, and when
The moon rose o'er the mountains as it were
A king triumphant on his turquoise throne,
Pírán the chieftain called his warriors,
And said: “Not many of the foe remain,
And, when the Topaz Sea shall dash its waves
Upon the Realm of Lapislazuli,
I will destroy those that survive and make
The Sháh's heart writhe.”

The troops went off rejoicing,

And all the night before the tent-enclosure
Sat sleepless through the sounds of harp and rebeck;
But for their part the Íránians mourned, the sires
Lamented for their sons, the killed and wounded
Hid all the plain, earth ran with great men's blood.
To right and left the field was strewn with hands
And feet unsortable. All night men raised
Their stricken friends, bound up and stitched their
wounds,
Left strangers to their fate, and burned the slain.
Full many of the kindred of Gúdarz
Were hurt or killed or captive. At the news
He wailed, earth shook beneath the Íránians' cries,

The outpost-guards descended

To hold the approaches that no foe might pass,
And, what with challenges and sound of gongs,
Thou wouldst have said: “The stones and rocks cry
out!”
Now when the sun rose o'er the mountain-tops
The Turkmans' hearts were full of eagerness.
A sound rose from Pírán's pavilion

He went like wind,

And took no thought of rest and food. At midnight
The Íránian outpost-guards caught sight of him
Upon the dusky plain, and from the mountain
Rose shout and sound of gong. 'Twas not the time,
He saw, to tarry, went back to Pírán,
And gave him tidings of the Íránian host:—
“'Tis on Mount Hamáwan with front well guarded.”
Pírán said to Húmán: “Ply rein and stirrup

Húmán chose thirty thousand

Túránian horse with shields and scimitars.
Now, when the shining sun displayed the face
That filleth earth with love, that army's dust
Appeared afar and from the look-out rose
The watchman's shout: “An army from Túrán
Appeareth! Upward to the darksome clouds
Its dust ascendeth!”

Tús, on hearing this,

Assumed his mail, rose din of trump and drum,
And all the Íránian chivalry in mass
Ranged on the mountain's foot. Whenas Húmán
Beheld that mighty army brandishing
Sword, mace, and spear, and raging like fierce lions
With Káwa's standard in their midst, he shouted
Thus to Gúdarz and Tús: “Ye left Írán
With elephants and drums to be avenged
Upon Túrán and to invade our coasts;
Now to the mountain have ye fled like game,
In utter rout and all fordone with fight!
Feel ye no shame hereat and no disgrace?
Are food and rest and sleep in rocks and stones?
To-morrow, when the sun shall top the hills,
Will I turn this thy stronghold to a sea,

He sent Pírán

A camel-post full speed. “What sort of fight
Did we expect?” he said. “Our thoughts were other,
And we made ready to attack the foe,
But all the mount is troops and kettledrums,
The standards wave behind Gúdarz and Tús!
Take order that as soon as bright day shineth,
And when the world's Light showeth in the sky,
Thou mayst be here with troops in war-array,
And make the plain's face dark with hosts of men.’
The message roused Pírán; no time was lost;
That night he marched on with a sea-like host.

When Sol, aweary of its veil of gloom,
Had bursten through it and come forth, Pírán,
The leader, reached Mount Hamáwan, and earth
Was hidden by the dust of troops. “Abide,”
Thus said he to Húmán, “here where thou art;
Set not the troops in motion for a while.
I will hold parley with the Íránian leader,
And say: ‘Why hast thou set up Káwa's standard?’
Who told him of Mount Hamáwan and now
When there what hopeth he?”

In hate and vengeance

He came anear the Íránian host and cried:—
“Illustrious Tús, the lord of elephant,

“We,” said Húmán,

“Must get possession of the mountain's foot,
And I will deal so that the Íránians
Shall never gird themselves for vengeance more.”
Pírán replied: “The wind is in our face,
And none would think of fighting with it so;
But as they have not room for foraging,
And nobody would guard a barren rock,
They will no longer heed their general;
With warlike eyes grown dim the troops will come
To seek not fight but quarter; 'tis a day
For grace and not for setting in array.”

Gúdarz and Tús suspected this; the chiefs
Were in dismay. Said old Gúdarz to Tús:—
“We must fight now. If we have three days' provand
We have not more, and not one road is open!
We have no tents, no huts, no baggage-train,
And this great host will starve! So, when the sun

Arose the clarions' blast,

The warriors pressed forward, and surrounded
The Iránian cavaliers like savage lions.
Sparks flashed from helm and sword: thou wouldst
have said:—
“The sky is raining maces from the clouds!”
Night, scimitars, and dust concealed the stars
And shining moon. Thou'dst said: “The Íránians
Are walled by coats of mail and in a murk
As of a sea of pitch!” Then to his men
Húmán exclaimed: “Enough! slay not the chiefs;
Bring me them captive and not arrow-pierced.”
They shouted back: “Their plight is hopeless now.
Lay on, lay on with mace and javelin,
And crown these chieftains' heads with crowns of blood.”
Then Tús said to Ruhhám and Gív: “Good sooth!
Our lives are but a jest! Unless the Almighty
Shall save our souls and bodies from this seath
We are but poised upon an eagle's wings,
Or struggling in the waters of the deep!”
Like savage lions leaping from their lairs
They charged together, while the sound of drum
And pipe and clang of Indian bells and gongs
Rose from the foe, men could not see their reins,
The horses' crests, or spear-points at their eyes.
“Ye have no room,” exclaimed Húmán, “for fight

'Mid such strife

Abode that warrior-three with paltry powers!
Much thought they then of Rustam, everywhere
The prowest in the fray, and of Shídúsh,
Bízhan, and Gustaham, of great and small;
“Good sooth!” said they, “one of the Íránian host
Would help us here! We came not to a fight,
But madly to the maw of crocodiles!
Woe to the throne and portal of the Sháh,
For they will capture us anon! Great Rustam
And Zál are in Zábulistán! Írán
Will be destroyed!”

The din of mace and drum

Reached the Íránian host, and Gív and Tús
Returned not! Said Shídúsh and Gustaham,
The Lion: “Tús is long engaged!”

Guráza

Said to Bízhan: “Our leader's task is long!”
Anon the din of drums rose from the plain,
Air turned pitch-dark and earth to ebony.
The warriors made toward the voice of Tús.
The field ran blood. As they came up behind
All drew their massive maces. Tús, aware

breathed themselves, and
left
The battle drawn. On both sides scouts advanced
Upon that plain of valiant warriors.
Húmán came forth, saw corpses block the road,
And thus addressed Pírán: “Withdraw to-day;
The battle hath not answered our desires,
But when our warriors, approven horsemen,
And men have rested I will make a fight
Such as the sun and moon ne'er saw.”

They went,

Their converse done, each on his schemes intent.

News reached Khusrau: “Pírán hath gained the day,
Tús hath retired upon Mount Hamáwan,
And many a chieftain of the host is missing.
The portal of the palace of Gúdarz,
Son of Kishwád, is void of men of war
And chiefs. The very stars are wailing them,
The rose no longer groweth in the garden,
The world through them is filled with dust and blood,
And Tús high star hath fallen!”

Kai Khusrau,

The famous, heard, and his heart quaked. He bade
The elephantine Rustam come to court,
And with his host. The sages and the archmages,
Famed and experienced of Írán, all came;

The treasurer

Unlocked the royal hoard of jewels, crowns,
Dínárs, helms, lassos, bows, and belts, oped too
The sacks of drachms. The Sháh gave all to Rustam,
Thus saying: “O illustrious warrior!
Go with the mace-men of Zábulistán,
And mighty men and warriors of Kábul,
Swift as the blast, not tarrying thyself
Or bidding others tarry. From the host
Choose thirty thousand swordsmen dight for war,
And give to Faríburz son of Káús
Some troops to go on first and seek revenge.”
The peerless Rustam kissed the ground and said:—
“The bridle and the stirrups are my mates.
We will urge on the chiefs; far be repose
And idleness from us.”

He paid the troops,

Went forth upon the plain, prepared for war,
And said to Faríburz: “Lead forth at dawn,
Conduct the van, and sleep not day or night
Until thou come to Tús the general.
Say to him: ‘Risk not fight, use guile, gain time,
And be not rash. Lo! like a blast I come,
Not dallying upon the road. Gurgín,

“O warrior, distributor of crowns,
Lord of the breastplate, battle-ax, and Rakhsh!”
Said Faríburz, “I have a secret wish
That I can tell to no one in the world
Except to thee, O paladin of earth,
Who well deservest ring and crown and signet,
And art the stay and refuge of the host!
In thee the warriors exalt their helms.
Know great one of Írán! and may God bless thee,
That I and noble Siyáwush were brothers,
And one in blood. 'Tis fit that I should take
His widow as my wife, exalted chief!
Urge this upon the Sháh, and thou wilt set
A crown upon my head.”

Then Rustam answered:—

“'Tis thine to bid. I will achieve thy wish.”
The elephantine chief went in and said:—
“O famed Khusrau! I have a thing to ask
That will exalt my head above the moon,
And I will ask it with the monarch's leave,
For God approveth. Love and justice reach
All men through thee, twin-visaged like the sky.
Now Faríburz among the chiefs and princes

Three days prepared, the fourth achieved, the business,
Then Rustam with his gallant warriors
Fared toward the plain, while Faríburz with troops
Went in advance, resplendent as a star
In heaven. Arose the din of clarions,
And matchless Rustam led his army forth.
The Sháh, the world-lord, with his mind all care,
Fared with him for two leagues, while Rustam turned
Two stages into one upon his way,
And rested not at all by night or day.

He bade the pipes to sound,

The troops upon the mountain left their posts,
The warriors of Írán girt up their loins,
And set up Káwa's standard, while Pírán
Upon the other side led forth his powers;
The dust-clouds dimmed the sun; its eye was dazed
By warriors' shouts and by the rain of arrows.
The two hosts met, but not a champion showed
Before the lines. Húmán said to Pírán:—
“We must attack. Why hesitate? The troops
Are not out hunting. Man and beast bear weight.”
Pírán said: “Peace! 'Tis not the time for haste
Or argument. Yestreen from yonder lines,
And unawares, three with a paltry force
Assailed us, hungry lions they, we sheep
Whom cold is driving from the mountain-tops.

They left the field, went to their tents,

And scouts were posted while the warriors loosed
Their belts and turned to sleep and banqueting.
The chieftain Tús went also to his camp,
With full heart and with cheeks of ebony,
And thus addressed Gúdarz: “Affairs grow dark;
The fortunes of the Íránians are distraught.
Troops compass us, our beasts' feed is all thorny,
And food is not o'er-plenteous with the host!
Unsheathe at dawn. Rank on the mountain-skirts.
If our good star prove helpful it will give us
Our will upon our foes, while if the Judge
Of heaven shall end us with the scimitar,
No more or less can hap than His decree,
So measure not your breaths in your dismay.
Death too with high renown is goodlier
Than life with fear and overthrow.”

With what their fortune-favoured chief proposed.

When from the sign of Cancer Sol reached out,
And rent the musk-hued Veil, a messenger
Came from the monarch to Pírán and said:—
“Troops throng from every side—a host whose dust
Would make a desert of the sea of Chín
Upon the battle-day. A chief is there
From Má wara 'u'n-Nahr; his head is raised
O'er circling heaven; a hundred lions' strength
Is his; he quelleth mighty elephants!
In height a cypress and in looks a moon,
A potentate whose toys are crowns and thrones,
Kámús, this chief of chiefs, will have his will
Upon Gúdarz and Tús. The troops comprise
All those that dwell 'twixt Sipanjáb and Rúm.
I reckon first the Khán of Chín, whose crown
Is heaven, his throne the earth, next brave Manshúr,
Whose falchion layeth warriors' heads in dust,
And next Kámús, the swordsman of Kashán,
Whose eyes ne'er saw defeat. His works all prosper;
When he is wroth he bringeth blast and snow.”
Pírán harangued the army of Turán,
And said: “Ye chiefs and warriors of the king!
Rejoice ye, young and old! at this good news,
Sent by the king, and be ye bright of soul;
Now must we wash the trouble from our hearts
I will not leave Írán field, fell, or crop.
The pains and troubles of the king are over
In seeking vengeance and arraying troops,

Pírán on reaching his allies beheld
The plains and valleys full of horses' hoofs.
The tents and tent-enclosures filled the world
With red and yellow, blue and violet.
Amidmost each enclosure was a standard
Wrought of brocade of Chín and painted silk.

He decked the tents

Like gardens in the spring: “'Tis Paradise,”
Thou wouldst have said, “for colour and device.”

Now when Sol mounted to the vault of heaven
The hearts of Tús and of Gúdarz grew troubled:—
“Why are the Turkmans still to-day? Are they
At counsel or bemused? But be they sad
Or glad I look for ill! Know that if aid
Hath come to them ill hap hath come to us!
Consider all the Íránian troops as slain
Or, if still living, fleeing from the fight.
If Rustam cometh not upon the field
Disaster will befall us from yon host,
And we shall have no sepulture, no grave,
But horses' hoofs will trample on our heads!”
Gív said to Tús: “O general of the Sháh
What aileth thee to think upon mishap?
We need not look for ill; God is thy Helper;
We are His worshippers, and have broadcast
Much seed of good. Such fortune hath the Sháh,
The lord of scimitar and throne and crown,
That God will not withdraw His help from us,
And leave our enemies to work their will.
With Rustam's coming all our soldiers' cares
Will end. Let no man cease to trust in God
Though day should turn to night. Let not thy heart
Be straitened needlessly because our foes
Forbear to fight one day: they have not shut
Heaven's door on us. Fear not the foe's designs.

Gúdarz departed from the host and clomb
The mountain-summit. From the look-out came
A grievous cry: “The Íránian warriors
Are ruined now! As yon bright sun declined
The whole world eastward grew as dark as night
With dust, which standard-bearing elephants
Sent up, and through that dust the shining sun
Was lustreless!”

Gúdarz heard that and cried:—

“Dark earth is my sole hiding-place!”

His cheeks

Became as pitch, and like one arrow-pierced
He cried: “My share is ever strife and battle,
My lot ill-hap and bane for antidote.
I had a host of sons and grandsons, men
Reputed in the land, but all were slain
For Siyáwush, and all my luck hath gone!

To the watch

He said: “Long-sighted man and bright of mind!
Look forth upon the hosts and see who cometh.
Where is the banner of the Íránian chief?
Look to our left and right.”

The watchman answered:—

“I see no movement and reconnaissance
On our side, but on theirs all is astir;
Of us thou wouldest say: ‘They are asleep.’”
Thereat the paladin shed bitter tears,
And cried in sorrow: “Saddle me my steed,
And for the future make my bed of brick!
I go to fill mine eyes and arms once more,
Embrace Shídúsh, Bízhan, Ruhhám, and Gív,
Those brave, impetuous cavaliers, kiss each
Farewell upon the cheek and shower tears.”
His gallant bay was saddled when there came
The watchman's shout: “Rejoice, world-paladin!
And banish care, for on the road that leadeth
Toward Írán a black, day-darkening dust
Ariseth; many standards like the moon
Are lifted from the centre of a host;
The first one hath a wolf, a moon the next,
The third a dragon with a lion's head
In gold upon the staff!”

“Then live for ever,

And may the evil eye be far from thee!”
Gúdarz exclaimed. “When what thou utterest
To such good purpose shall be brought to pass

The paladin

Rejoined: “Be shrewd of heart and bright of soul.
Look forth from this high mountain yet again,
And see how soon they will be here.”

He answered:—

“Yon host will reach Mount Hamáwan to-morrow
At dawn.”

The paladin conceived such joy

As would have brought a corpse to life.

Pírán,

For his part, swift as flying dust-clouds led
Those reinforcements¹⁵⁸

to the battlefield.
A horseman went on first to tell at large
The joyful news which when Húmán had heard
He laughed and said: “Now surely sleepless fortune
Is with us.”

From the field a shout of joy

Rose cloud-ward from the army of Túrán.
The Íránian nobles full of care and pain,
With faces sallow and with livid lips,
Dispersed themselves upon the mountain-side
To give their last instructions. Everywhere
Groups gathered and bewailed themselves, and said:—
“Woe for these warriors of royal race,
Who are forgotten by the Íránians,

Whenas the sun arrayed its host in heaven,
And black night disappeared, the Khán of Chín
Assembled the Túránian chiefs and warriors,
And thus addressed Pírán: “We will not fight
To-day, and we do need a day's repose,
But, while our proud chiefs and man-slaying horsemen
Rest from the travail of the tedious road,
And from their hurried march o'er hill and dale,

Pírán replied: “The Khán

Is a wise king and worshipful, so let him
Do what he will to-day for he is leader.”
There rose a clamour from the camp-enclosure
With sounds of kettledrum and clarion.
They mounted seats upon five elephants,
Housed with brocade of Chín of turquoise hue,
And broidered with gold thread. The seats themselves
Were gemmed with emeralds, the fittings golden,
The saddle-flaps were made of leopard-skin,
And golden were bells, gongs, and rattle-boxes.
The drivers' heads were decked with crowns, and all
Wore torques and ear-rings. With so many flags
Of painted silk the air was yellow, red,
And violet like some bázár in Chín.
The troops marched to the field as if to keep
A feast, the earth was beauteous as the eye
Of chanticleer with trappings, colours, drums,
And pipes. The kings set forth, the air was filled
With blare of clarions, the spearpoints gleamed,
The plain was black with troops. Tús from afar
Saw them and ranged in line what men he had,
The warriors of Írán girt up their loins,
And Gív brought Káwa's standard. From the plain
Of battle to the summit of the mount
The army of Írán stood troop on troop.
Now when Kámús went forward with Manshúr,
Bíward, Shangul the preseient, and the Khán
To view Mount Hamáwan, they never thought
To face a foe, but when the Khán afar
Looked forth and heard the Íránian horsemen's war-cry
It pleased him and he said: “Behold a host
Of men-o'erthrowing, warlike cavaliers!

“But,” said the Khán,

“What shall we do?”

Pírán said: “Thou hast fared

Far over hill and dale. Let us remain
Three days to rest the troops. I will divide
The host; the day of fight and fear is over.
Half of our warlike, glorious cavaliers
Shall fall upon the foe from dawn till noon
With double-pointed dart, sword, bow, and mace;
And then till night ariseth from the hills
The other half shall strive. At dark will I
Bring up the rested troops and press the foe;
We will not let them have a moment's peace—
We and our eager cavaliers in arms.”
Kámús replied: “Not good! No such delay
For me! With all these men and such strife toward
Why seek so long a respite? Let us both
Attack and straiten dale and height for them.
Hence we will march upon Írán, will leave not
Throne, crown, or diadem, lay waste all fields
And fells, and act as warriors and Lions.
No women, little children, old or young,
No Sháh, or man of rank or paladin

Whenas the sun had pitched a camp-enclosure
Of gold brocade upon the azure realm
A loud cry from the look-out reached Gúdarz:—
“O captain of the host! the troops have come!
They are at hand! Their dust hath dimmed the day!”
Gúdarz sprang up, had his swift charger brought,
And rode toward that dark dust with anxious heart.
He came. When near to them he spied the flag

Then old Gúdarz alighted as withal^163a

Did Faríburz the wise, the army's Lustre.
The twain embraced. Gúdarz wept tears of blood
Upon his breast. “Old chief,” said Faríburz,
“Still forced to fight! revenge for Siyáwush
Hath cost thee dear! Alas! those cavaliers
Gúdarzian! May much good news of them
Still reach thee, may the fortune of the foe
Be over-turned! Praise to the Lord of sun
And moon that I have seen thee safe and sound.”
Gúdarz wept blood for those that slept in dust.
“Observe,” he made reply, “how evil fortune
Is ever bringing evil on my head!
No son or grandson hath survived this strife,
No soldiers, flags, and kettledrums are left!
But I dismiss all thought of conflicts past;
Now is the time for fighting and emprise.
The troops on plain and dale have made earth like
A raven's wing, so many are they, and all
The host of Tús is as the one black hair
Upon a white bull by comparison!
The wastes and settlements of Chín, Sakláb,
Of Rúm and Hind, can have no creature left!
All must have girt themselves to fight with us!
But till thou tellest me where Rustam is
My back will not be straightened from its griefs.”
“He is behind me,” Faríburz replied,
“Intent on war. All through the night till dawn
He marcheth with all speed. Now where shall I
Encamp and whither lead this little band?”
Gúdarz made answer: “What did Rustam say?
His words should be reported.”

Faríburz

Replied: “Illustrious one! the peerless Rustam
Bade us not fight. ‘Stay on the field,’ he said.
‘Ye must not show yourselves before the host,
But take your ease until my flag appeareth.’”
Then Faríburz, Gúdarz in company,
Marched toward Mount Hamáwan right speedily.

When from his look-out the Túránian watch
Espied these troops he went back to the host.
“Gird all your loins for fight,” he told Pírán,
“For from Írán an army hath arrived,
Advancing o'er the plain!”

The general

Went to the Khán of Chín, and said: “An army
Is coming from Írán, how great I know not,
Or who the leader is. What shall we do?”
Kámús said: “Keep thyself to thine own force.
Thou hast the warriors of Afrásiyáb—
An army like the waters of the sea—
Yet what hast thou accomplished in five months
Against a foe so small? Now that the earth
Is full of troops led by the Khán, Manshúr,
And me, let us display our prowess; thou
Hast locked the door but we will bring the key.
Although the world's face be as silk of Chín
With soldiers from Kábul, Zábul, and Hind,
Yet, should I fight alone, the Íránians
Were nothing. Thou wilt say of them: ‘They are
not.’
Thou wouldest scare me with illustrious Rustam;
Him will I slaughter first; if once I catch him
His name shall not be talked of any more.
Thou art oppressed and fearful of this host

Pírán said: “Live for ever!

May evil's hand be always far from thee.
Enough! may what thou sayest be fulfilled,
And no one prove thine equal.”

Said the Khán:—

“Thou hast allowed Kámús to lead the attack;
He will perform his word, for he hath Mountains
As his allies and Elephants for mates.
Daunt not the troops, for these Íránians
Are no great matter, and I will not leave
One noble in Írán, but send up dust
From hill and vale; as for the men of worship,
I will dispatch them to Afrásiyáb
In heavy fetters and behead the rest.
We will not leave Írán a leaf, a tree,
A Sháh, a palace or a crown or throne.”
Pírán with smiles did reverence to the chiefs,
And to the Khán of Chín, then went rejoicing
Back to the camp, where all the nobles sought him,
Such as Húmán, Lahhák, and Farshídward—
Great men and Lions on the day of battle.
“A host,” they said, “arriveth from Írán,
Led by a sable flag; a noted scout
Went forth to spy and is but now returned.
They say 'tis Faríburz son of Káús,
A noble, loyal soldier.”

Said Pírán:—

“Let us dismiss our cares. In Rustam's absence
We need not be afraid of Faríburz;
His breath is no cure for a bane like this.
But though according to Kámús indeed
The elephantine Rustam is no man

Húmán replied:—

“Why dost thou keep thy spirit dark with care?
This is not he, or army from Sístán:
Here are the blood and dust of Faríburz.”
Pírán said: “I have given up the throne
And state in dudgeon with the sun and moon,
For when I heard that from Írán a host
Marched, and was coming to this battlefield,
My brain went, anguish filled my soul and head,
And from my heart I drew a chilly sigh.”
Kulbád said: “Why this grief? What need is there
To weep because of Rustam or of Tús?
With all our soldiers, maces, elephants,
And scimitars we block the wind itself.
Why fear then Rustam, Tús, and Kai Khusrau?
What are the Íránians but as dust to us?
They were dispersed in flight from yonder field,
And straggled to their tents.”

Anon Tús heard:—

“The land is full of beat of kettledrum,
And elephantine Rustam hath arrived
With Faríburz and soldiers from Írán.”
He bade bring forth the drums, Mount Hamáwan,
Wherefrom shouts rose, grew ebon with dark dust,
And earth shook underneath the trampling steeds.
Then Tús harangued the troops, he spake at large
About Mázandarán, what Rustam did
In battle with the dívs, and how he triumphed.
The soldiers called down blessings on their chief,
They said: “Be ware of heart and bright of mind.
We may pour out our souls at this good news,
Which easeth them. When peerless Rustam cometh
Yon host will not withstand the Crocodile.
Then will we battle on this mount forthwith
To cast this shame off from the Íránians.
The standard of the illustrious Khán, the crown,
The golden shields, and throne of ivory,

The troops

Raised shouts of joy upon the mountain-top
As merrily they sought their place of rest,
Each man to spend the night as seemed him best.

When Sol laid hand on Taurus, and the larks
Began to carol o'er the plain, a shout

Túránian troops have clouded all the air.
Their leader is a horseman like a rock,
And earth is shaken by his charger's hoofs.
His mace's head is like a buffalo's;
Troops follow him and spearmen lead the way.
Thou well mayst muse at one that shouldereth
A mace like that!”

On his side Tús sent up

The drum-roll to the clouds, he heard the watchman,
His soul grew bright, he joyed, while from Gúdarz
A horseman sped to Faríburz to say:—
“The army of Túrán arrayed for battle
Is near at hand. They must not in full force
Assail us scattered thus and overthrow us.
Act as thy nature biddeth, for thou art
A noble and Sháh's son. The dust of Rustam
Is rising from the road, and he is entering
The field.”

Then Faríburz joined force with Tús

And Gív. They ranged the host on Hamáwan,
And raised the glorious flag. All being ready,
Right, left, and centre, rear and baggage-train,
The clarions blared and all the host came on
As 'twere the starry sky; so when Kámús
Advanced to fight he had no need to wait,
But, like a river speeding down a height,
Led on his troops and fronted Hamáwan.
Air was like indigo and earth was hidden.
When he was near he faced toward the mount,
And with his cheeks all smiles addressed his powers:—
“It is a coward's business to oppose
The Íránians, yet a vast, brave host is here
And not Pírán, Húmán, and all that crew!
What champion have they to contend with me?”
Then shouting to Mount Hamáwan he cried:—
“Ye lion-men upon the day of battle!
Behold my breast, my stature, and my bearing,
This arm of mine, this sword and mace!”

Then Gív,

On hearing, flared up, raged, and drew his sword,
But said, when he drew nearer to Kámús:—
“None but a furious elephant can match him!”
He took and strung his bow, he called on God,
The Giver of all good, and showered arrows
From bow like clouds in spring upon Kámús,
Who, when he marked Gív's mastery, concealed
His own head 'neath his shield, and with his lance
Charged wolf-like. Air was full of dust, and earth
Of death. On drawing near his foe he speared

He left the centre

With shouts to succour Gív and join the fray.
Kámús wheeled, rode between the chiefs, and struck
The steed of Tús a sword-blow on the neck;
That prince's face became like ebony.
The charger fell, the gallant rider rose;
Then like a roaring lion took his stand,
And on the battlefield with spear afoot
Contended with Kámús before the hosts.
Two noble warriors fought one cavalier;
He of Kashán was still insatiate!
Thus, till the sun's place darkened, all the field
Was in confusion and, when it grew ebon,
Kámús and Tús gave o'er. The hosts again
Went to their several camps on mount and plain.

Now when heaven's sphere grew void of sun and moon,
And when the scouts came forth from both the hosts,
The watcher in the look-out loosed his tongue:—
“The plain is full of dust, the night is dark,
The level and the upland ring with cries,
And there are many lights among the troops.

Gúdarz,

On hearing this, descended mid the murk
The rocks in haste, the dragon-standard shone
Though night was dark and earth was violet-dim.
He lighted from his steed, while Rustam too
Alighted and advanced like rushing wind.
The twain embraced and from them both arose
A bitter cry o'er those Gúdarzian chiefs,
And that gain-seeking which had proved a loss.
Gúdarz said: “Brave, wise, ardent paladin!
Both crown and throne receive their light from
thee,
And what thou utterest is truth indeed.
More art thou to the Íránians than father
And mother, treasure, throne, and precious stones.
Without thee we are fish on land, our heads
Are petrified, our bodies in the grave.
When I observed thy goodly countenance,
Thine eager salutations and thy love,
I grieved no longer for the dear ones gone;
Through thy good fortune only smiles remained.”
Then Rustam answered him: “Be glad of heart,
And very heedful of thy noble self,
Because the world is but deceit and toil,
It showeth thee its wealth and that is all.

He is a Tree whose Fruits are mace and sword,
And, though the clouds rained stones upon his head,
He would not flee from elephants of war:
His head is full of wreak, his heart of strife.
Earth is not able to contain Manshúr;
No warrior ordereth a host like him;
And from this mountain to the river Shahd
Stretch flags and litters, elephants and troops,
Whose helmets and cuirasses pass compute.
Grim are the looks of all upon the plain,
Which is a mass of tents, around are pitched
The tent-enclosures of brocade of Chín,
And had the captain and the host not come
All had been lost. Praise to the Lord of victory,
Who thus hath put a period to our stress!
Past doubt we live through thee; we all despaired
Of respite.”

For a while the paladin

Grieved for the slain, wept, and grew dark of soul,
Then said: “Look from the orbit of the moon
Down to the gloomy face of sombre earth;
All is distress and anguish, care and toil.
Such is the manner of this Wayside Inn,
Such is the manner of the circling sky—
Whiles strife and poison, and whiles sweets and love!

The mighty men

Praised him and said: “Live ever famed and glad
With signet, crown, and sword, and never be
The court of Kai Khusrau bereaved of thee.”

When o'er the hills the world-illumer shone,
When day seized on the two dark curls of night,
And, having cast aside its pitchy weeds,
Bit with its teeth the moon's lips till they bled,
The sound of drums rose from the camp-enclosures,
The warriors came forth. Húmán the chieftain
Went out to reconnoitre every side,
And thought: “What reinforcement have the Íránians
To need those tents and those pavilions?”
He saw a camp-enclosure of brocade
Of turquoise hue with many slaves about,
And in its front a general's flag and spear:
It seemed to him that fortune had changed sides.
He saw another army's camp-enclosure
With flags as bright as moons, for Faríburz,
Son of Káús, with elephants and drums
Had pitched near Tús. Húmán in deep concern
Went to Pírán and said: “To-day is wedded
To heavy toil. The Íránians' cries and clamour
Were greater yesternight than heretofore;
So went I forth alone from camp at dawn,
And viewed the foe on all sides. From Írán
A mighty host hath come to succour them.
Now one pavilion is of green brocade;
Its standard hath a dragon for device,

“O wise one!” said Kámús,

“Thy heart produceth naught but ill surmise.
Know thou that Kai Khusrau hath come to war,
But do not therefore vex thy heart in vain.
Why harp so much on Rustam? Name no more
Zábulistán. If he beholdeth me
With flag in hand his heart will mourn at fight.
Go thou, array the host, lead forth the troops,
And bring the standards to the battlefield.
When I go forth to combat with the host
Ye must not loiter. Now shalt thou behold
The combating of men. The wilderness
Shall be a sea of blood.”

The paladin

Rejoiced to hear and ceased to fret at Rustam.
He came with joyful heart and resolute,
And bathed his spirit in the stream of valour.
He gave out helms and mail to all the troops,
And kept in mind the language of Kámús,
Then going to the Khán he kissed the ground,
And said to him: “O monarch, live for ever!
May wisdom feed upon thy thoughts. The way
That thou hast trod was long and difficult;
Thou boughtest toil, foregoing feasts for us,
And to do reverence to Afrásiyáb
Hast crossed the sea.¹⁷⁶

Our soldiers' backs are straight-
ened
By thee. Now act as native worth requireth,
Bedeck the elephants with bells and gongs,
And stun the world with blare of clarions.
To-day I make the attack; do thou remain
At the army's centre with the elephants
And kettledrums, keep guard upon my rear,
And help to raise my helmet to the clouds.
Kámús said thus to me: ‘Lead thou the van,’
And brandishing his mace swore many oaths,
And said: ‘I will not fight save with this mace
To-day though stones should shower from the clouds.’”
The Khán on hearing bade the clarions sound:
Thou wouldst have said: “The very dust hath feet!”
Both earth and heaven shook at the tymbal-din,
And put all love away. He gave command
To set a litter on an elephant,
And earth's face seemed like indigo. He reached
In state the army's centre, and the sky
Was like a dark cloud with the flying dust.
There was a sound of gongs and Indian bells,
And thou hadst said: “Men's hearts are in their
mouths!”

The captain of the host

Struck up the fifes and drums; the war-cry rose,
And trumpet-blare. Gúdarz drew up the right,
And sent the baggage to Mount Hamáwan,
While Faríburz arrayed the left; the world
Seemed all a reed-bed! At the army's centre
Was Tús son of Naudar. Earth was all dust,

In every quarter there were alien tongues,
Strange flags and meats! What with the elephants,
The adornments of the thrones of ivory,
The armlets and tiaras, torques and crowns,
The world was like the garth of Paradise—
A goodly but terrific spectacle!
He stood astonied on the height and thought:—
“When will the sky show love to us again?
What will the next jest of old heaven be?”
He gat down from the mount but lost not heart,
Went not before the army and its chief,
But said: “Since first I girt me ne'er have I
Dwelt anywhere a year, and I have seen
Full many a host, but greater never saw.”
He bade advance the drums, and Tús the general
Marched from the mountain to the plain to battle,
Prepared to dip his wreakful spear in blood.
They marched till noon, then ranked them two leagues
long,

A warrior named Ashkabús, whose voice
Was like a kettledrum's, came forth to challenge
The Íránians, bent to lay some foeman's head
In dust. He cried: “Which of you famous men
Will come to fight with me, that I may make
His blood to flow in streams?”

Ruhhám on hearing

Sent up his battle-cry, stormed like the sea,
Took up his bow—the horseman's ambuscade—
And showered arrows on that famous chief,
But he was clad in panoply of steel,
And arrows were like wind upon his tunic.
Ruhhám then raised his massive mace. The hands
Of both grew weary, but Ruhhám's mace failed
Upon the other's helm, much as he sought
To deal a fatal blow, till Ashkabús,
His heavy mace in hand, while earth seemed iron
And heaven ebony, smote brave Ruhhám
Upon the helm and smashed it, who thus worsted
Wheeled round and sought the heights. Tús at the
centre
Raged and spurred forth to go at Ashkabús,
But matchless Rustam said to him in wrath:—
“Ruhhám's fit comrade is a bowl of wine.
He holdeth swords as playthings in his cups,
And vaunteth of himself among the brave;
Now whither hath he gone, who was a match
For Ashkabús, with cheeks like sandarach?
Keep in the army's centre—thy fit place—
And I will fight afoot.”

He slung his bow

Upon his arm, stuck arrows in his belt,
And shouted, saying: “O thou man of war!
Thine adversary cometh: go not back.”
He of Kashán laughed in astonishment,
Then checked his steed and, calling to his foe,
Said, laughing still, to him: “What is thy name,
And who will mourn thee when thy head is off?”

He marked the pride

Of Ashkabús in his fine steed, and shot
An arrow at its breast; the charger fell
Headforemost. Rustam laughed and cried aloud:—
“Sit by thy noble comrade! Prithee nurse
Its head and rest thee from the fight awhile.”

Choosing from his girdle

A shaft of poplar wood he drew it forth
Bright-pointed, feathered with four eagle-plumes;
Then took his bow of Chách in hand and set
His thumbstall to the deer-hide string; he straightened
His left arm, curved his right; the bent bow sang;
The shaft's point reached his ear; the deer-hide
hummed;
The shaft's point bussed his finger and its notch
Was at his back; he loosed and struck the breast
Of Ashkabús; the sky kissed Rustam's hand;
Then destiny cried: “Take!” and fate cried: “Give!”
The heavens cried: “Excellent!” the angels: “Good!”
He of Kashán expired, thou wouldst have said:—
“His mother never bare him!”

Both the hosts

Beheld that fight. Kámús marked with the Khán
The lofty stature, strength, and fire of Rustam,
And, when he had withdrawn, the Khán dispatched
A cavalier, who drew the arrow forth
All bloody to the plumes! They passed it round
And thought it was a spear! The Khán's heart aged
When he beheld the feathers and the point.
He spake thus to Pírán: “Who is this man?
What is his name among the Íránian chiefs?
‘They are a paltry remnant,’ were thy words,
‘Not on a par with men of high degree,’

“None know I of this class,”

Pírán replied, “within the Íránian host,
None who can send his arrows through a tree-trunk,
Nor know I what this miscreant's aims may be.
The men possessed of stature, Grace, and prowess
Among the Íránian host are Tús and Gív,
And in the fight Húmán hath often made
The world as black as ebony to Tús.
I know not who is this Íránian,
Or who among our troops will prove his match;
But I will go and ask among the tents;
We will make out his name at all events.”

Pírán went full of care and pale of face
To ask the chiefs. Húmán the valiant said:—
“Wise men do not depreciate their foes.
The nobles of Írán are in good heart;
‘They would break iron,’ thou may'st say; and now
That reinforcements reach them from Írán
They raise their war-cry on the battlefield.”
Pírán replied: “Whatever cavalier
Shall come forth from Írán to succour Tús
We need not fear if Rustam be away.
I shall not break my heart about Ruhhám
Or yet about Gurgín; for be assured
That saving Tús they have no warrior;
Gurgín and Faríburz match not Kámús.

Pírán replied:—

“Forbid it, heaven! that Rustam should come hither,
And purpose fight! Thou wouldest see a hero,
Tall as a cypress, and with Grace and beauty,
From whom Afrásiyáb on many a field

Whenas the air glowed with the setting sun,
And dark night 'gan to stalk athwart the sky,
The warriors of the army of Túrán,
The men of wisdom and the scimitar,
Came in a body to the Khán's pavilion,
Full of revenge and fight—the lion-man
Kámús, the conqueror of elephants,
Manshúr the brave, the arbiter of battle,
With Shamírán from Shakn, Shangul from Hind,
The king of Sind and from Sakláb Kundur.
They all advised at large about the war,
And spake much of Írán, till all agreed
That they must wash their hands in blood, then parted,
Each to his tent, for rest or pleasure there;
But when the moon, then slender grown and humped,
Left the dark chevelure of gloomy night,
And, being in the presence of the sun,
Arose with watery looks and bathed its cheeks,

The mighty men

Arose and said: “The conduct of the host
Is thine to-day. Thine are the realms of Chín
And of the Turkmans. Mark thou here to-day
How scimitars shall shower from darksome clouds!”
On his side Rustam thus harangued the troops:—
“The time hath come; if we have lost a few
There is but one in several hundred slain;
Let not your hearts be straitened; for my part
I will not live except with fame and honour.
With cheeks like ebony the Turkman troops
Withdrew from Ashkabús, so fill ye, all!
Your hearts with vengeance, frown, ye cavaliers!
For I have put the shoes on Rakhsh to-day,
And on him will incarnadine my sword.
Be instant for to-day we start afresh,
And all the earth is now the treasury
Of Kai Khusrau. Arm for the strife. Win crowns
And earrings. Purses shall ye have of me,
Gifts from Zábul and turbans from Kábul.”

He donned his armour and went forth

With confidence upon the battlefield.
He put his chain-mail under his cuirass,
And over it he donned Babr-i-Bayán.
He wore a helmet wrought of steel of Chín—
One to make foemen meditate on death.
He girded up his loins by God's command,
And mounted Rakhsh like some mad elephant.
The heavens were confounded at his mien,
Earth darkened where his charger's hoofs were seen.

The drums and trumpets sounded from both hosts,
No room remained for guile or grammarye;
The mountains and the plains were all a-quake,
The earth was troubled by the tramp of steeds.
Kámús commanded the Túránian right,
Behind him were the mighty elephants
And baggage. On the left the lord of Hind
Stood clad in mail, a Rúman sword in hand,
And in the centre was the Khán of Chín.
The sky grew dark, the earth shook. Faríburz,
Like Sol irradiant in Aries,
Commanded on the left wing of Írán.
Gúdarz, son of Kishwád, encased in steel,
Was on the right, and in the centre Tús,
Son of Naudar, in front were drums and clarions.
From all parts of the host a shout arose—
A shout which rent the ears of elephants—

The peerless Rustam grieved about Alwá,
Let loose the twisted lasso from its straps,
And took his massive mace as for a strife
Of chiefs. He roared like some mad elephant
As he advanced with lasso on his arm
And mace in hand. Kámús said: “Bluster not
So much about a thread of sixty coils.”
“The lion roareth bravely,” Rustam said,
“On catching sight of game. Thou wast the first
To put the girdle on in this dispute,
And thou hast slain a noble of Írán.
Thou sayest that my lasso is a thread;
Now shalt thou see how tight the knots will hold.
Thy fate doth drive thee on, man of Kashán!
Since here no place is left thee save the dust.”
Kámús the valiant urged his dun steed on,
His foe a lasso-bearing Elephant,
And let out with his glittering glaive, intent
To sever Rustam's head. The point alighted
On Rakhsh's neck and clave the battle-mail,
But failed to wound. The elephantine hero

The strife with brave Kámús hath reached its goal
In death when He that gave took back the soul.
Now valour and revenge will fill the scene:
I tell the battle with the Khán of Chín.

There are abortive negotiations, but the campaign continues. Many Túránian chiefs are slain by Rustam, who takes the Khán of Chín prisoner. He also slays Káfúr, the man-eater. Afrásiyáb summons Púládwand to his aid, but again Rustam is triumphant. He returns victorious to Írán, is welcomed and rewarded by Kai Khusrau, and then departs to Sístán.

§ 14. It is said that when Firdausí was buried in his own garden at Tús,¹⁹¹

the great Shaikh of the time—Abúl Kásim of Gurgán—refused to be present because, he said, Firdausí, though a learned and religious man, had deserted his principles and spent his time in discoursing of men of bad religion and fire-worshippers. That night the Shaikh had a dream of Paradise. He saw a magnificent palace with a jewelled throne, and asked whose it was. “It is for Firdausí,” was the reply. Then the poet appeared wearing a green robe and an emerald-coloured crown upon his head. “O Firdausí!” said the Shaikh, “whence this rank and splendour?” The poet answered: “From a couplet or two confessing the Unity of God.” The Shaikh, when he woke, went and prayed at Firdausí's tomb. Probably the lines referred to are those at the end of this section.^191a

§ 20. Cannibalism was not unknown in former times among the savage tribes of the North, as we learn from Herodotus. On the upper waters of the Borysthenes (the Dnieper) dwelt the Androphagoi proper, who seem to have been of Finnish race, some tribes of which appear to have retained their cannibalistic propensity as late as the Middle Ages.¹⁹²

On the steppes east of the Caspian dwelt the Massagetæ, and to the north of them, and south-east of the Ural Mountains, the Issedones. Both these tribes were to some extent cannibals.^192a

The legend in the text of a man-eating community can be accounted for without difficulty.

Now, O enlightened sage! speak but to name
God the Sustainer of heaven's circling frame,
And Guide to good. Thine end of life will come,

All looked on one another,

And asked: “Who can this prowest warrior be?
What is his name? Who is he? Who can face him?”
Thus to Húmán the Lion spake, Pírán:—
“My soul hath had enough of strife to-day.
How shall our warriors desire to fight
When our brave Crocodile hath just been slain?
He was a peerless noble; not a horseman
Had form more elephantine, and the man
That could in battle bind him with the lasso
Might well in days of fight seize by the head
An elephant and dash it to the ground.”
The troops in sore distress about Kámús
Came in a body weeping to the Khán,
To whom Pírán did reverence sadly, saying:—
“O thou exalted o'er yon azure dome!
Thou hast beheld and heard how we have fared
From first to last upon this battlefield.
Devise a remedy for our misfortune
Thyself without consulting any one.
Choose from our army's spies one that can bring
Hid things to light and find out who he is—
This lion-hearted one for whom our host
Hath not a match; then we will all face death,
And fight him on the field.”

The Khán replied:—

“'Tis what concerneth me; I fain would know

He then assembled

Full many a noble from the army—swordsmen
And bravest of the brave—and said to them:—
“As for this warrior with his archery,
This lasso-flinging, hero-taking horseman,
'Tis needful that ye spy out where he is
Upon the left or right wing of their host;
Inquire withal about his name and land;
Then will we do his business out of hand.”

A lusty cavalier—a faithful liege—
By name Chingish—a seeker of renown—
A man of valour and adventurous,
Stepped forth and volunteered. He thus addressed
The Khán: “Exalted! all the world would have
Thy love. Though this man be a lion I
Will make him lifeless when I take the field,
Will fight him single-handed and convert
The glory of Írán to infamy.
I will be foremost to avenge Kámús,
And thus restore his honour after death.”
The Khán applauded him. He kissed the ground
Before his lord, who said: “Achieve this vengeance,
Bring me yon overweening head, and I

He roamed about,

And cried: “Where is that lion-warrior?”
Then Rustam with his mace bestirred himself,
And straightway mounted Rakhsh. “I am,” he said,
“That chief-o'erthrowing, Lion-capturer,
I have mace, lasso, and artillery,
And now for thee, as for the brave Kámús
'Tis time to rub eyes in the dust.”

Chingish

Rejoined: “What are thy name, thy race, and purpose
That I may know whose blood I shed amid
The dust of battle?”

Rustam answered: “Wretch!

Ne'er may the tree that taketh thee for fruit
Bloom in the garth. To thee my name and spear-point
Are death, thy mail and helm thy winding-sheet.”
That insolent came wind-like, strung his bow,
Which seemed a raining cloud, and said to Rustam,
His mail-clad opposite: “Stay, valiant horseman!
Thou shalt have fight enough.”

The other raised

His shield, perceiving that the shafts would pierce

Much grieved the Khán and raged at that mishap;
He said thus to Húmán: “Now time and place
Are straitened to us. Go, for thou art shrewd,
And learn the name of yon great paladin.”
Húmán replied: “No anvil I or ivory
In fight. Kámús the warrior had no peer
For valour and discretion, so despise not
The cavalier that lassoed him. I go

The paladin

Said: “Noble warrior of ardent soul!
Why tell not thy name, country, realm, and home?