Now when the sun spread out its gold brocade
The ocean of the plain of battle heaved,
A war-cry rose from both contending hosts,
And earth shook underneath the horses' hoofs;
On every side the troops advanced in force,
And all the plains and hills were clad in mail.
Both chieftains, both like leopards, mustered all
Their powers for that encounter. Arrows showered
Like rain descending from a darksome cloud.
The world was like a winter's night81
for murk,
But what a murk! Its rain was shafts and swords!
The earth was iron with the horses' hoofs,
The warriors' breasts and hands were red with gore.
So many headless corpses strewed the field,
That there remained no longer room to turn,
Or passage for the horses' feet; the earth
Was tulip-hued, the air like indigo,
And waves ran high upon that sea of blood.
Both chiefs said: “If our warriors thus maintain
The fight by nightfall nothing will be left
Save heaven, the world, and God!”
Now when Pírán
Saw how the battle went he bade Lahhák
And Farshídward: “Dispose in three divisions
What troops ye have efficient to restore
The fight, and let the shrewdest of the three
Compose our rear while ye march to our flanks.”
Toward the heights, and Farshídward withal
His toward the stream, and raise dust o'er the sun.
As those Túránian chiefs led on their men,
Intent on fight, a watchman of Írán
Sent forth a messenger to tell Gúdarz,
But he was with his army, on the watch,
And when, along the route whereby they came
To fall upon their foemen unawares,
Lahhák and Farshídward sent up the dust
From both the flanks the Íránian cavaliers
Closed with the foe and mixed the dust with blood,
While messengers from all sides came in haste
To tell the paladin, who looked to see
What warriors he had still keen for fight.
His noble son, Hajír, that angry Lion,
Was in reserve with shaft and sword; Gúdarz
Bade him to go to Gív, the army's Stay,
Bid him send reinforcements toward the mountain
And river, and withal leave in his stead
Some valiant man and hurry to the front.
Thereat the brave Hajír girt up his loins,
And sped forth to his brother with that charge.
Gív chose at once a man of high renown—
A warrior named Farhád—and having called him
Committed to his hands the chief command;
Then ordered Zanga, son of Sháwarán,
With ten score valiant veterans to fall
And mountain. Swift as wind he gave Gurgín,
Son of Mílád, two hundred with a standard,
And said: “Lead hence thy glittering spears and maces,
Display thy prowess and assail the foe,
For their supports are broken and their chiefs
Downhearted in the strife.”
Then to Bízhan
He said: “O lion-man! a rending Tiger
Art thou upon the battle-day, and now
Thy lion-manhood will bestead thee well,
For thou must fight the foe. Our army's hopes
Are set on thee and thou must take the field.
Spare not the enemy, expose thyself,
The time for battle and revenge hath come.
Go to the centre and engage Pírán,
For all his country hath its stay in him,
And he will burst his skin at sight of thee.
If thou shalt conquer him our work is done;
May God and thy good fortune be thine aid.
Then will our soldiers rest from toil and stress,
Our world-possessing Sháh will be rejoiced,
Thou wilt obtain much treasure and much goods,
And thy prosperity will be assured;
And fill his heart with blood, his eyes with tears.”
When Gív had ceased, his son girt up his loins,
And urged his steed on like Ázargashasp.
Those heroes fell upon the foemen's centre,
As they were lions on a hunting-day,
Bestriding windfoot steeds with outstretched necks,
And satisfied the vengeance of their hearts.
The horsemen and mailed chargers of Túrán
Were scattered by the onset o'er the plain.
What numbers fell beneath the horses' feet,
Their grave the lion, mail their winding-sheet!
When, from the rear, Rúín, son of Pírán,
Observed the onset with its cloud of dust
He issued from the mighty Turkman host
With other nobles, as they had been wolves,
And like a stout pard grappled with the foe.
He struggled but prevailed not in the strife;
Then flung away his Indian scimitar,
And showed his back despairing of the battle.
Pírán the chief with none of his own kin
Stayed at his post amazed. Gív, seeing him,
Wheeled to attack, and of the body-guard
Speared four and flung them vilely to the ground.
Pírán, the son of Wísa, strung his bow,
And showered arrows on his enemy,
While bold Gív held his shield above his head,
And with his spear came charging like a wolf,
But, when he sought to fall upon Pírán,
And seethed, and cursed the foul, malicious Dív;
Then with his shield of wolf-skin o'er his head,
He dropped his spear, strung up his bow and drew it
In hope to pin Pírán's hand to his shield.
Four times he hit Pírán's breast, thrice his steed,
But neither horse nor rider suffered aught.
Pírán, on Gív's companions drawing near,
Fought yet more fiercely, charging him like smoke,
To wound him and defeat his valiant troops.
Gív too rushed forward and dishelmed Pírán,
But hurt him not, and Gív was vexed at heart.
Bízhan approached and said: “My glorious sire!
I heard our monarch say: ‘Pírán will fight
In many a fierce engagement and escape
The clutch of sharp-clawed Dragons, but Gúdarz
Will take his life at last.’ Strive not so fiercely
With him, my sire! His time hath not yet come.”
Gív's troops, brave men and full of wrath, came up
Whereat Pírán turned toward his own array
With groans, in dudgeon, and with livid face,
And, when he reached Lahhák and Farshídward,
Said: “O my men of name, brave Hearts, and swords-
men!
That erst I fostered you upon my breast.
Now when the host hath come forth to the fight,
And when the world is black to us with foes,
I have not seen one come before the host,
And battle there for glory!”
At his words
The chieftains' hearts breathed vengeance. As they
fared
They said: “If we have not unsullied souls
We need not be in terror for our bodies.
Bind we our skirts together,85
ne'er must we
Relax our girdles from this strife.”
They went,
Lahhák and Farshídward, to challenge Gív,
And brave Lahhák thrust at his girdle, hoping
To bring him from his saddle headlong down.
The coat of mail was shivered by the shock
Yet Gív lost not his stirrups, and his spear
Pierced the swift charger of Lahhák. It fell
In agony. Lahhák regained his feet
While Farshídward rode up and with his sword
Struck at the spear of Gív as quick as wind,
Clave it in twain and gloried in the stroke.
Gív, when he saw the blow of Farshídward,
Drew from his girdle his huge mace and bellowed
Like some fierce-breathing dragon. With one blow
He sent the falchion from his foeman's hand,
Struck him another blow upon the neck,
And rained a fiery shower upon his body,
Which made his blood from mouth to liver tingle,
Took all his strength away and dazed his head.
While Gív was thus engaged Lahhák bestrode
As rapidly as smoke a wind-foot steed,
And those two warriors with mace and spear
All lion-like attacked Gív, many a blow
Rained on him from those valiant chieftains' maces,
And that contention frayed him not a whit.
Now when Lahhák and Farshídward encountered
Such stout resistance from that lion-man
They said to one another in fierce wrath:—
“Ill hath descended on us from the stars!
He on yon saddle hath a brain of brass,”
Thou wouldest say, “on chest but lion's hide!”
Gív called to his companions for a spear,
And wheeled to right and left in his attack,
But neither of the twain was overthrown.
He thought: “A novel task confronteth me!
The chiefs have come not from Túrán, but dívs
Out of Mázandarán!”
Upon Gív's right
Guráza with a mace of Rúman steel
Came dust-swift to encounter Farshídward.
He rode a charger camel-like in bulk,
And aimed a blow; the wary Turkman ducked,
And with his spear struck at Guráza's belt,
But failed to pierce the mail. Then sword in hand
Bízhan came lion-like to help Guráza,
And smote upon the helmet Farshídward,
Whose prowess rent the earth. Bízhan then sought
To clutch his foeman's helm with his right hand;
His foeman stooped; Bízhan's attempt was foiled.
Behind Bízhan came Gustaham in haste,
And other nobles of Írán withal
Nigh the Túránian host, with anxious hearts
And eager for the fight. Andarímán
Came rushing dust-like to encounter them,
And let fly with the mace at Gustaham
To break his ribs; he parried with his sword,
Which snapped in twain and filled his heart with
fear.
Hajír came up to aid those warriors,
And showered arrows on Andarímán,
The horse's mail, and horse and life grew strangers.
The rider disengaged himself, held up
His shield above his head, and rose crestfallen.
The Turkmans shouted, and their cavaliers,
Who charged like dívs, made shift to bear him off
In presence of the foe. From morn, till night
Rose o'er the hills, the horsemen on both sides
Kept sending up the dust of war, and mixed
The earth with blood until all spirit went
From steeds and cavaliers, and mouths gave o'er,
For they could raise the battle-cry no more.
Now, when earth's face turned ebon, from both hosts
The drums and trumpets sounded, and the drummers
Upon their elephants made haste to leave
The scene of action. Both the hosts agreed:—
“Since night hath fallen we will quit the field,
And in the morning choose us valiant men,
Men that would send dust from the ocean's depths,
Men of renown and eager for the fray,
To meet in single combat; thus our troops
Will be relieved and shed no more the blood
Of guiltless folk.”
This settled, they withdrew,
And thought that they had made the long road short.
The two chiefs, both perturbed at that last fight,
Turned from the strife, one toward Mount Kanábad,
The other toward Raibad. Gúdarz sent out
His scouts. The troops were galled by mail and helm,
Their hands and falchions were adrip with blood;
They loosed the fastenings, put off mail and casque,
Began to feast and drink. Then young and old
Alert went to the paladin for counsel.
Gív said: “My father! what strange hap was mine!
When I had broken through the foemen's ranks,
And come upon Pírán, my charger jibbed,
And would not stir a foot. Thou wouldst have said
That in my wrath I should behead my friend.
Then was it that Bízhan recalled to mind,
And told me of, a presage of the Sháh's
That by thy hand Pírán will die.”
“My son!”
Gúdarz replied, “my hand will take his life
Assuredly, and in God's strength shall I
Avenge on him my seventy sons beloved.”
Gúdarz then viewed the host and saw it worn
With bloodshed, stress of war, and combating,
And, grieved to see his noble folk thus wan,
Dismissed them to recruit. They went their ways,
And at the dawn returned equipped and vengeful.
They greeted him: “Famed paladin of earth!
Hast risen refreshed by sleep? Dost purpose fight?”
He answered: “Noble and illustrious chiefs!
Be instant, all of you! by night and day
In blessings on the Maker, for till now
The war hath met our wishes. Many a marvel
Have I experienced, and known this world
The sky hath-fashioned, reaping what itself
Sowed with delight. I instance first Zahhák,
The unjust, who rose to kingship. How he straitened
The world and yet its Maker suffered him!
Vile as he was, and noted as a tyrant,
The breezes wafted him supremacy!
Thus many years passed over his ill-doings;
Then God sent evil on the miscreant,
The Judge endured no longer his injustice,
And raised a just man to dispose of him.
The glorious Farídún, that righteous Sháh.
Girt up his loins to win the empiry,
Unloosened all the coil of Áhriman,
And decked the earth throughout with righteousness.
From miscreant and ill-disposed Zahhák,
A man vituperated by our Sháhs,
The taint descended to Afrásiyáb,
Who looketh not upon the face of good.
When he enlarged his vengeance on Írán
He left the path of justice, law, and Faith;
At last he slew the noble Siyáwush,
And robbed our country of the breath of life.
When Gív came to Túrán how many hardships
Awaited him! his bed was dust, his pillow
A stone, he lived on game, wore leopard-skin,
And wandered like a madman till he found
The traces of Khusrau and did him homage.
When they had set their faces toward Írán,
And news reached fierce Pírán, he with his host
Sped after to destroy them by the way,
And did what harm he could, but God's protection
Sufficed. Then in revenge for Siyáwush
Our army marched toward the Kása rúd,
And at the camisado of Pashan,
How many of my sons were slain before me
While all our chiefs lost heart! Pírán again
Hath come to fight and now confronteth us,
But feeling weak he will procrastinate
By ruse and parle till reinforcements come.
Now he is challenging our chiefs to combat,
And we must be prepared, for if we show
Unreadiness or weakness he will find
Excuse of some sort to avoid a battle.
If they will fight us let us send the dust
Out of their men of name; and if Pírán
Will keep his word and meet us on the field
I swear to you that I will fight and give,
White-headed as I am, my body up
For slaughter in the presence of our troops.
I and the brave Pírán, Rúín, and Gív,
Will quit ourselves like men, for none abideth
For ever here, our fame alone will stay,
And best it is to leave a lofty name,
Since death will fling its lasso at us all;
The end is one to die or to be slain,
We can but little trust the turning sky;
And by the self-same token do ye likewise,
Armed with your lances and man-slaying swords,
Gird, all of you of any name, your loins
For vengeance, for our foemen's fortune falleth,
And we must strike at once. Húmán who fought
With brave Bízhan had no peer in Túrán;
But since when fortune turned he was o'erthrown,
Beheaded wretchedly, and rolled in blood,
We need not fear them or withdraw ourselves.
And he shall lead his army forth like dust,
We too must go forth like a mountain-mass,
And counter him for, since our foes are downcast
And fearful, sure am I that we shall gain
The mastery and make them reek to heaven.”
The noble veterans blessed him, saying thus:—
“O chieftain, true of heart and pure of Faith!
Ne'er since God made the world hath man beheld
A paladin like thee. E'en Farídún—
The ruler of the world—had no such servant.
Thou art the army's stay, the Sháh's chief captain,
Through thee the warriors exalt their helms.
Thou hast devoted children, life, and goods,
And what can Sháhs ask more of their commanders?
All that the Sháh required of Faríburz,
And Tús, he will behold achieved by thee.
We are thy slaves; our hearts are full of love
For thee. If now Pírán shall bring a thousand
Against our ten; see which will turn from strife!
But should he come to fight on plain and mountain
In full force we are all heart-sore for vengeance,
Our loins are girt for war. Oh! may we give
Our lives for thee! To that we all are pledged.”
Gúdarz was bright of heart at this, and cried:—
“O paladins of our earth-ruling Sháh!
Such ever is the wont of warriors,
Of noble Lions and brave cavaliers.”
He bade the troops to mount and gird themselves
For fight, dispatched sun-faced Farhád to lead
The left wing, where Ruhhám had been, and sent
In haste to lead the right wing in the stead
Of Faríburz, and ordered thus Shídúsh:—
“My son and ready minister in all!
Be thy place in the rear with Káwa's flag,
And troops to give support to all the rest.”
He then commanded Gustaham: “Go to,
Lead for the nonce, assume the chief command,
Be watchful, prudent, and the army's stay.”
He issued orders: “Let no man advance
Beyond his post, look ye to Gustaham,
And be both night and day upon the saddle.”
A cry rose midst the host, the soldiers mourned,
And hastened to Gúdarz, dust on their heads,
Because their leader with his hoary hair
Had girt his loins, and went to fight in person.
Gúdarz called Gustaham, gave him advice,
And said to him: “Be thou a trusty guard
Against the foe, be watchful night and day
In mail and ready for attack, unhelm not,
For, if thou shalt begin to be remiss,
Sleep will assail thee, and the sleepless foe
Will fall upon thee while thy head is nodding.
Maintain a watchman on the mountain-top,
And let the soldiers feel themselves secure.
If from Túrán by night and unawares
They fall on us by way of ambuseade
Thou must display the valour of a man
And warrior's prowess. Should ill tidings come
About us from the army of Túrán—
That they are slaying us upon the field,
And bearing to Túrán our trunkless heads—
For on the fourth will come the famous Sháh
To help with Grace and power.”
Gustaham
Received the proffered counsels and, resolved
To act with loyalty, this answer gave:—
“I will obey thy bidding like a slave.”
Since that last fight disastrous to Túrán
The troops were sorry and dispirited,
Sons with wan cheeks lamented for their sires,
And brothers were in grief for brothers slain;
Thus were they full of mourning and in dudgeon:
High heaven loured above them. When Pírán
Perceived that all his host was as a flock
Rent by a ravening wolf he called the chiefs,
And spake at large: “Experienced warriors,
Worn, young and old alike, with combating!
What majesty, what rank and dignity,
Are yours in presence of Afrásiyáb!
Ye have a name for glory and success,
Ye had the world at will, but now, because
Defeated once, ye will not fight at all!
Know that if we retreat in cowardice
The lusty leaders of Írán will come
With massive maces in pursuit, and lord
And liege see none of us alive again.
Now put away these terrors from your hearts,
And bear your griefs with equanimity.
There is a saying current with archmages:—
‘It is the part of God to conquer always.’
And such that we walk fearfully therein.
This host that now attacketh fled from us
Erewhile. Let all of you that have regard
For country and for child, for life and kindred,
Gird them for vengeance on the Íránians.
Gúdarz hath made a compact with me, saying:—
‘I will make choice of chieftains from the host,
Then let us set our champions face to face,
Allowing both the armies to repose.’
If he shall keep his compact, and produce
His chieftains at their stations, be it so;
Or if he shall advance to fight in force
We will go forth with eagerness to battle.
Then if we give our heads up to the sword
There is a day for birth, a day for death;
Or if not I will set their heads on stakes;
The turn of fortune may be either way.
I will behead the man that disregardeth
These words of mine.”
At once the warriors answered:—
“O paladin of great Afrásiyáb!
Though from of old thou hast had throne and treasure
Still hast thou chosen travail for our sakes,
Girt up thy loins before us like a slave,
And givest son and brother to be slain.
Why then should we, thy slaves, avert our heads?”
They spake and left the presence of Pírán,
And every one made ready for the fray.
They spent the livelong night in taking order
For all things as their prudent chief had bidden.
At dawn the sound of trump and pipe arose
Before his tent-enclosure, and the chiefs
Were in the saddle with their bows and arrows.
Thou wouldst have said: “Earth maketh for itself
An iron veil of horseshoes.” Then Pírán
The safety of the army of Túrán
Must be your care upon this battlefield.
Set ye a watchman on the mountain-top
To watch by day and count the stars. If ill
Should come upon us from the turning sky,
And it shall wholly cease to favour us,
Be ye not hasty to engage in battle,
But fall back swift as smoke upon Túrán,
Since none, or few, except yourselves are left
Of Wísa's seed, for all the rest are slain.”
With bitter tears and heart-felt grief they clasped
Each other to the breast and then departed
With lamentations on their several ways.
Pírán the chief, full of revenge, rode out
Upon the field and raised his battle-shout.
Pírán perceived Gúdarz and held a parley.
“Wise paladin,” he said, “how many souls
Thou torturest! But will it benefit
The soul of Siyáwush to cause Túrán
To reek? His soul is with the good in heaven;
Now that he resteth why not rest thyself?
Two armies hast thou flung upon each other
Like elephants beheaded. All the troops
Of two realms have been slaughtered, and 'tis time
For thee to quit the battlefield. The world
Is void of men. We battle coldly. Why
Must thou destroy the guiltless? Let us make
Advance thy soldiers from the mountain-foot,
And come thyself before them; then perchance
Thou wilt attain the vengeance that thou seekest.
We—thou and I—will wheel upon this field
Of battle and the others in like manner,
And those of us who gain the victory
Shall sit on thrones with every wish fulfilled.
If I shall perish by thy hand forbear
Revenge upon the soldiers of Túrán,
Who shall submit to thy commands and give
Their chiefs as hostages for their good faith;
But shouldst thou perish by this hand of mine,
Together with the nobles of thy host,
I fight not with thy troops, and they have naught
To fear from me.”
Gúdarz, on hearing, marked
How fortune darkened all Pírán's endeavours,
First offered praises to the Omnipotent,
Then, calling to his mind the noble Sháh,
Made answer: “I have heard thee, famous chief!
Throughout. In that way did Afrásiyáb
Get profit from the blood of Siyáwush—
Speak out, turn not away—when they cut off
His head as 'twere a sheep's what time his heart
Was full, his liver pierced? Afrásiyáb
Thereafter sent a cry up from Írán
With all his slaying, raiding, strife, and turmoil.96
'Twas on thine oath that Siyáwush relied,
And lightly didst thou give him to the wind;
Then when my son approached thee afterward
Thou didst reject my counsel, and make ready
In fiery haste for war. My prayer hath been,
Both publicly and privily, to Him,
Who ruleth o'er the world, that I some day
Might meet thee in the fight; and now that thou
Hast come there is no room for tarrying,
So let us twain, with our hoar heads, contend
Upon this battlefield. Do thou now choose
A band of champions to encounter mine,
Experienced chiefs with maces, swords, and lances,
Their foemen's heads to dust.”
The Turkman chief
Made ready and chose out ten cavaliers,
Who sped forth from the centre to the place
Of combat, where no eyes were watching them.
This was the compact made between the chiefs—
That every Turkman warrior should encounter
One from Írán. They matched Gív with Gurwí
As peers in strength and pluck—Gurwí, the son
Of Zira, whom of all the foe the Sháh
Most loathed, Gurwí who, seizing by the beard
The spotless Siyáwush, beheaded him.
With Faríburz, the son of Kai Káús,
Kulbád, the son of Wísa, hastened out,
Ruhhám, son of Gúdarz, went with Bármán97
In company but as antagonists,
Guráza went with Siyámak, fierce Lion
With snorting Crocodile. The old Gurgín,
A Lion too, went with Andarímán.
Rúín the brave, who robbed the world of lustre
In fight, went with Bízhan, the son of Gív,
Akhást with Zanga, son of Sháwarán,
And Barta with Kuhram, the good at need,
While Furúhil came forth with Zangula
With all speed from the centre of the host.
Hajír and Sipahram, as 'twere two dívs,
Sent up the war-cry on the battlefield.
Gúdarz, son of Kishwád, paired with Pírán,
And all were ready for revenge and strife.
The generals, as much opposed by duty
As by religion, were athirst for blood,
And sware together not to quit the field
Between the armies and commanding them
There were two hills, the one was toward Írán,
The other toward Túrán, and to the plain
Betwixt them went the lucky and the luckless.
Gúdarz said: “Let each warrior and man
Of blood that conquereth his Turkman foe
Bring from the spot his banner to this hill.”
Pírán, the chieftain, had his standard raised,
And gave like orders, on the other height.
Then they descended to the level ground,
With girdles tightly girt for shedding blood,
And with their lassos, falchions, bows, and arrows,
Essayed all modes of fight. As for the Turkmans—
Those gallant chieftains—had a mountain faced them
They would have levelled it anon, so well
They plied their heavy maces, swords, and shafts,
And yet their hands were slack, for God had barred
The door of might against them, they were trammelled
Within a net of bale for having shed
Much blood without just cause, their chargers jibbed,
And thou hadst said, of them: “Their feet are hobbled.”
Among the Turkmans everything went wrong
Because their day was over, and their blood
Quaked. Thus the Maker of the world ordained,
And thou hadst said: “Earth hath them in its grip.”
With all the manhood that they had they strove
'Gainst fortune for the honour of their throne,
And in their fight for sovereignty surrendered
Their heads without reserve for fame and glory.
Both sides came rushing to the battlefield,
And strove together, yet Pírán the chief
Knew inly that the evil day had come,
The source to thee of grief and happiness!)
But saw that fighting was his only course;
The tyrant's turn it was to suffer force.
First, Faríburz, that gallant warrior,
Came speeding lion-like and, having strung
His bow, attacked Kulbád, the son of Wísa.
He wheeled about but, since his arrows failed,
Unsheathed with his right hand his glittering sword,
And clave his foeman's body to the waist.
Alighting he undid his royal lasso,
Secured Kulbád upon his charger's back,
And, having loosed the fastenings of his mail,
Rode to the hill triumphantly, exclaiming:—
“Oh! may our leader be victorious,
And all our Sháh's foes liver-stricken thus!”
Next there went out Gurwí, the son of Zira—
A valiant dív—with Gív, son of Gúdarz.
They fought long with their spears and mixed the dust
With blood till with the horsemen's combating
Their spearheads dropped affrighted at the fray.
They took their bows and arrows and fought on.
And carry him still living to Khusrau—
A novel present to him from the Turkmans.
Gurwí, when Gív was closing, dropped his bow
In terror and laid hold upon his sword,
But gallant Gív came charging furiously,
While grasping in his hand an ox-head mace,
And, roaring like a mighty leopard, struck
His foeman's casque and drenched his face with blood.
Gív, keeping his own seat, put forth his hand
And, seizing, strained Gurwí against his breast,
Who, fainting in the saddle, fell to earth
Insensible. The warrior-pard alighted,
Bound his foe's hands firm as a rock behind him,
Then, mounting, made his prisoner run in front,
And rode toward his comrades. Flag in hand
He scaled the hill; his shouts brought down the moun-tains.
The king of earth had given him grace to win
That triumph and he blessed the paladin.
Next Siyámak of the Túránian host
Went with Guráza to the battlefield,
Both spear in hand and both with cries like those
Of maddened elephants. The chiefs were all
Wrath, rancour, and revenge. Anon they took
Their massive maces, raged like warrior-lions,
And smote each other on the head. Their tongues
Were cracked with thirst, they closed in furious fight,
Alighted, clutched, and raised the dust of strife.
Guráza put his hands forth like a lion,
And as a storm-blast bent his foeman down,
Then dashed him to the ground with violence
That brake his bones; he yielded up the ghost.
Upon his steed, swift as Ázargashasp
Remounted, took the horse of Siyámak,
And scaled the hill like one bemused with wine.
He held the glorious flag and proudly went
Rejoicing o'er his conquered enemy,
The victory of the Sháh, and that high fortune
Achieved beneath the shadow of the throne.
Dismounting then he prayed to God to bless
The fortune of earth's monarch with success.
The fourth fight—Furúhil's with Zangula—
Was that of combatants like lions loose.
In truth there was no warrior in Írán
To match in archery with Furúhil,
Who, seeing that grim Turkman from afar,
Strung up his bow and, bending it, began
To shower shafts on Zangula, employing
The horsemen's ambuscade. One poplar arrow,
Which flew with wind-like swiftness, struck his thigh,
Transfixing horse and rider. The fleet steed
Came to the ground headforemost with the smart,
Unseating Zangula whose face was wan;
His head sank and he yielded up the ghost;
Full surely he was born for evil days.
Then Furúhil leaped down, beheaded him,
Stripped off the Rúman armour that he wore,
And made his head fast to the saddle-straps,
Then took with him the steed of Zangula,
And scaled the hill, as he had been a leopard,
With breast and hand and sword all drenched with gore.
He raised the glorious flag, glad-hearted he
At having gained his end triumphantly.
It was Ruhhám, son of Gúdarz, that made
The fifth assay, and fought against Bármán.
The war-cry as of valiant horsemen rose.
Their bows both shivered and they took in hand
Their spears and scimitars. Both warriors,
Both brave, both horsemen, shrewd and veteran,
Fought long till e'en the combative Ruhhám
Quailed, yet by thrusting at his foeman's thigh
Dismounted him and had him at command.
Bármán made off like dust, but from the reek
Of battle came Ruhhám and from behind
Thrust yet again and pierced him through the liver.
Ruhhám trailed him along, rubbed his own face
With his foe's blood in wreak for Siyáwush,
Raised him upon the saddle and there bound him
Firm as a rock, with hanging head and feet
Below the girths, then mounting brought the corpse
Swift to the trysting-place. Ruhhám thus won
High fortune through the Sháh's victorious grace
And throne exalted, and began to call
Down praise upon him and his kin withal.
In the sixth fight—Bízhan, the son of Gív,
Against Rúín—the warriors rushed forth,
Strung up their bows and wheeled to left and right,
But shot in vain. Then, brazen mace in hand,
Bízhan manœuvred for the vantage-ground,
And, with a rush earth-rending, smote Rúín
Upon the head; his helm ran brains and blood.
There on the saddle gave he up sweet life,
While calling on Pírán, the son of Wísa,
An iron body with a mouth all gore.
Ere he had had full joyance of his youth
He ventured all for gain and lost it all.
The world is full of cark and care, good sooth!
And after every rise there is a fall.
Bízhan dismounted lightly from his steed,
Like Áhriman upon his fallen foe,
And cut his head off with a scimitar;
For him was neither grave nor winding-sheet.
Bízhan next with his lasso bound the corpse
Upon the saddle: there was none to mourn;
Then, mounting like a furious elephant,
And seizing in his hand his foeman's reins,
Bízhan took up his own swift charger's bridle,
And hastened hill-ward with his lion-flag,
With rusty blue steel rings, in hand, and cried:—
“In every contest may our monarch win,
And crowned for ever be his paladin.”
Hajír rushed seventh from among the heroes—
A famous warrior and noble horseman—
While Sipahram, Afrásiyáb's own kinsman,
A hero high in rank and estimation,
Essayed fight with the offspring of Gúdarz—
A cavalier unequalled in the host.
They went upon the ground, dark dust-clouds rose,
They fought together with their scimitars,
And made sparks stream from iron. Lion-like
The brave Hajír confronted Sipahram
Right manfully and, in the Maker's name,
And by the fortune of the youthful monarch,
Struck with his sword the helmet of his foe
Upon the crest, and death came then and there.
The Turkman tumbled headlong from his steed
In miserable plight and drenched with blood.
His foe's corpse firmly on the saddle, mounted
His own steed, led the other and departed.
He clomb the hill, he blessed his lucky star
And glorious country, but acknowledged still
In his bright fortune and his might God's will.
Gurgín was eighth and he went out to fight
Andarímán, one of the Turkman host.
Experienced both and veteran they went
And chose a battlefield. They wheeled with spears.
When these broke down they took their bows, and arrows
Rained while the chiefs held up their wolf-skin shields
To save their faces. Arrows showered like hail
On wolf-skin buckler, helm, and casque. At length
Gurgín shot at Andarímán a shaft
That pinned the Rúman helmet to his head,
And as the cavalier reeled with the smart,
Gurgín shot yet another, pierced his side,
And brought the blood-drops from his eyes with anguish.
Gurgín gat down like wind, took his foe's head,
And strapped it to the saddle. Having mounted
He led the Turkman's charger, and then scaled
In haste the hill, his bow slung on his arm,
By God's strength who had sheltered him from hurt,
And the victorious fortune of the Sháh—
The world-lord. Thus returned triumphantly
He set the heart-illuming flag on high.
The swordsman: both were men of blood and chieftains.
When they had tried all other ways they took
Their Indian swords in hand. Then all at once
Kuhram turned face from Barta. Barta smote
Kuhram's helm-top and clave him to the chest:
Fear filled foes' hearts at Barta, who, alighting,
Fast to his corken saddle bound Kuhram,
And mounted. Shouting up the hill he went
Like some fierce leopard. In one hand he grasped
His Indian sword, and in the other held
His conquering flag. Head-downward on his steed
Was flung Kuhram. He cried: “The Sháh hath won.
His crown is ever higher than the sun.”
Tenth went forth Zanga, son of Sháwarán,
Armed from the warriors and mighty men,
And his opponent chanced to be Akhást,
Whom none had ever worsted in the fight.
Both took their massive maces, and their strife
Surpassed all bounds. At length both were o'ercome
With their belabourings. Their Arabs jibbed;
Thou wouldst have said: “They have no pulses left.”
The warriors when the sun began to sink,
And when the desert was a-glow like iron,
Were so exhausted that thou wouldst have said:—
“They cannot stir a step.” “Our livers now,”
Awhile, and afterward renew the combat.”
They went accordingly and led their chargers
Apart, and then securely hobbled them.
Thereafter, having taken rest, they rose
For fight again, and with their lances wheeled
Like fire about the centre of the ground,
Till Zanga got the better: rending earth
He charged and struck Akhást upon the waist,
Then flung him headlong from his steed face-downward,
And shouted like a rattling thunder-clap:
Thou wouldst have said: “He split the battlefield!”
Alighting, Zanga went and dragged his foe
Face-downward through the dust, made shift to lift him,
And flung him prone across the saddle-back,
Then, mounting his own charger, led the other.
Strange! what misfortunes fell upon the Turkmans!
He left the plain and reached the glorious hill,
Wolf-blazoned flag in hand. He set it up
Before his mates with blessings therewithal
Upon the Sháh and his chief general.
Whenas the ninth hour of the day had passed
There was no Turkman left on that broad plain,
Their lives had been dissevered by the sword.
Thou wouldst have said: “The world is pitiless!
For one, whom it is tending with all care,
And dowering with days, it will prepare
A night-surprise amid his happiness,
And bring upon him obloquy and stress.
Both first and last we are the wind's possession,
We ask for justice and behold oppression!”
Whenas the Turkmans in those luckless combats
Had struggled fruitlessly Pírán descried
The leaders of Írán and of Túrán
Advanced together for their grim revenge,
And set earth's surface rolling as they came,
Grief in their hearts and vengeance in their heads.
The sun paused dust-stayed on that day of battle.
Those cavaliers tried every kind of sleight
With sword and brand, with lasso and with mace,
But Heaven's purposes were brought to pass,
Disaster came upon Pírán from God;
Against that will he had no remedy—
The will that made his steed fail under him.
Pírán saw well enough how matters stood,
And knew that God had caused that change of fortune,
Yet he acquitted him right manfully,
And strove against the purposes of fate.
The two chiefs of the host, those shrewd old men,
Then took their bows and arrows in their hands.
Gúdarz chose out a poplar arrow—one
That would pierce iron—shot it mightily,
And pierced the armour of his foeman's steed,
Which shivered, gasped, and fell. Pírán fell under;
His steed rolled o'er him; his right hand was broken.
He struggled out and rose upon his feet.
Though knowing well that his last hour had come,
And that he could not scape from that dark day,
Yet fled he from Gúdarz toward the hill,
Distressed by running and his injured hand,
And gained the top if so the paladin
Might not pursue. Gúdarz, perceiving this,
Wept bitterly. He feared a change of fortune,
Well knowing its inconstancy and how
'Tis ever prone to tyranny. He shouted:—
That thou dost foot it thus like game before me?
Where are thy troops, O captain of the host!
Where all thy might and manhood, arms and heart,
Thy treasure and thy wisdom? Prop of heroes!
Afrásiyáb's main stay! the sun is louring
Upon thy king, and fortune utterly
Hath turned its face from thee. No room is here
For guile, attempt it not. Since thus bestead
Ask quarter for thy life that I may bear thee
Still living to the Sháh. That conquering one
Will pardon thee because, like me, thou art
A hoary paladin.”
“Now God forbid!”
Pírán replied, “God grant that no such ill
Befall my latter end and I survive.
To beg my life were heaviness indeed!
Born was I in the world for death, and I
Thus fighting put my neck within thy power.
A saying have I heard among the great:—
‘In this fair world, though many days be past,
Inevitable death will come at last.’
Herein I have no reason to complain.”
Gúdarz rode round the hill and grieved to find
No road. He lighted, took his shield and went,
Like those in quest of quarry, up the mount,
His shield before him and a dart in hand.
Pírán descried him, leaped up on the crest,
And, arrow-fashion, hurled a javelin
Which struck the ancient chieftain on the arm.
Gúdarz thus wounded by Pírán's hand raged
For vengeance and sped forth a dart. It hit
Pírán upon the breast, crashed through his mail,
Transfixed his liver, and came out behind.
Pírán reeled and his head became distraught;
His soul departed to rejoin his comrades.
Thus fortune changeth sides from day to day,
It heareth not what counsellors may say,
But rendeth, having dipped its hands in bane,
The lion's heart and leopard's hide in twain.
Now when Gúdarz had clambered to the summit
He saw Pírán o'erthrown in sorry plight,
With broken arm and heart, his head in dust,
His armour riven and his girdle snapped.
“O Lion,” said Gúdarz, “chief paladin,
And warrior bold! the world hath looked on many
Like me and thee but will have peace with none!”
He stretched his hand out, horrible to tell,
Drank of his foeman's blood, smeared his own face
Therewith, lamenting bitterly the murder
Of Siyáwush, then praised the Omnipotent,
And mourned before the just Judge for the death
Of his own seventy well-belovèd sons.
He was about to take his foeman's head,
But deemed the act unworthy of himself,
So raised the banner of Pírán beside him,
His head and body lying in its shade,
And went back to his warriors, while the blood
Poured from his wounded arm as 'twere a flood.
Meanwhile the vengeful warriors of Írán
Descended from the hill toward the host,
Their slain opponents bound upon their saddles
According to the usages of war;
But since the paladin was not with them
A cry ascended both from old and young:—
And perished by Pírán's hand, through old age.”
The troops wept bitterly, beholding not
Their paladin, but soon amid the dust
They saw his flag come flaunting from the field.
The drums beat in the camp, dust kissed the sky,
The great men, smiling and rejoicing, went
To meet him. Said the troops: “The paladin
May be returning worsted by Pírán,
Because he is a lion-hearted hero,
And hath been courting combat all his life.”
Then, while both young and old gave ear, Gúdarz
Spake, pointed with his finger to the field,
And told how fortune had entreated him,
Then bade Ruhhám to mount and fetch Pírán.
“Bind him upon the saddle, bring him down,”
He said, “from yonder height; and bring besides
His armour and his flag, just as they are,
But lay no hand upon his belt or loins.”
Ruhhám departed like a rushing wind,
Laid on the saddle that illustrious form,
Whose mail was drenched with gore, with lasso-coils
Bound it securely and conveyed it down.
Whenas the warriors and haughty chiefs
Beheld Pírán's flag from the trysting-place
All of them blessed the chief of paladins,
And said: “Grand back-bone of the Íránians,
And servant of the Kaians' crown and throne!
Thou hast made both thy body and thy soul
A ransom for the host in victory,
And in defeat.”
Began to press methought: ‘Afrásiyáb
Will lead his host to this side of the river.
His troops have been at rest from strife and toil
While mine are spent with hurry.’ So I sent
A prudent man and gave the Sháh much counsel.
I said: ‘If now the Turkman king shall bring
His host we cannot hold our ground.’ Methought:—
‘Khusrau will hasten to this battlefield,
And when we take the bodies of the slain
Upon this scene of vengeance to the Sháh,
Just as ye have them now upon the saddles,
He will rejoice and we shall be advanced,
Because this feud of the Íránians
And Turkmans came from these now passed away.’”
All praised him: “Ne'er may earth and time lack
thee.
Whate'er we gain we gain it from thy words,
And sun and moon take lustre from thy looks.”
They went and bore the slain just as they were,
But forced Gurwí to walk, a lasso bound
His hands, a halter was about his neck.
As soon as they approached the main encampment
The troops turned out to meet their general
With Gustaham the Lion leading them.
He came before the gallant paladin,
Then kissed the ground and offered praise. He said:—
“Behold thine army safe and sound. As thou
Committed'st it to me so I restore it.”
From Mount Raibad: “The plain is dark as night
With dust. A wondrous din of kettledrum
And clarion ariseth; thou wouldst say:—
‘The desert is in motion.’ Glittering,
As 'twere the azure ?? a throne of turquoise
Is borne on elephants, the air is glowing
With hues of yellow, red, and violet,
As 'twere a silken banner, while afar
A glorious standard like a cypress-tree
Appeareth, round it are mailed cavaliers,
And earth throughout is violet-hued with steel.
Flag followeth flag, and some are charged with dragons
And some with eagles. In another day
They will be here if thus they keep their way.”
The Turkman watch upon Mount Kanábad
Beheld that wonder and came in apace;
He said: “Unless mine eyes are dim, unless
This sight of mine be dazed exceedingly,
God hath wrought havoc on the Turkmans, all
Their toils have turned to dust. The Íránians
Have come down shouting from their height, and each
With flag in hand. That of Pírán the chief,
I see, is down, his body drenched in gore,
While as for those ten warriors who went hence
With him, I see them far away o'erthrown,
And flung with bloody bodies o'er their steeds.
Appeareth and the plain is azure-dim.
Amidst the warriors is Káwa's standard,
While in the vanguard glitter blue-steel swords.
The standard of the king of kings appeareth
With trump and drum, and earth is ebon-hued.”
Lahhák and Farshídward went to the look-out,
And saw with their own eyes Pírán the world-lord,
Their chief and brother, slain, and with him those
Ten chosen cavaliers, the Turkman champions.
There, in the watch-tower, grievously distraught,
And wailing for their brother's blood, they cried
In their affliction: “O thou Lion, chief
Of Turkmans, and undaunted cavalier!
What do thy greatness and thine uprightness
Avail since thou hast willed to quit the world?
Our foes have everything for which they toiled;
The world hath ended for thee evilly.
Who is there to take vengeance for thy sake,
And who now will ensue thy precedents?
Calamity hath come upon Túrán,
And on Afrásiyáb, and all is lost.
We must behead ourselves and whelm in blood
Sword, hand, and body.”
When they called to mind
Pírán's last charge to them they acted not
Upon their own wild words, for he had said
To Farshídward, when challenging Gúdarz:—
“If I am slain abide not with the host,
For earth will prove too narrow for our nobles
When I am gone, and none of wits be left
Of Wísa's race, and if the Íránians
Slay us and bring Írán our trunkless heads
Our army will ask quarter of Gúdarz;
But do not ye demean yourselves so much:
Make for the waste and ye may yet survive.”
Of blood, their bodies failing. All the host
Knew that the flock was wandering shepherdless.
All were exceeding sorrowful and wept;
They burned as though upon consuming fire.
They came before Lahhák and Farshídward
With lips that breathed forth deep, cold sighs, and
said:—
“What shall we do now that our paladin,
The back-bone of our host, hath left the field?
Whom will he hearten more to gird his loins,
And set an iron helmet on his head?”
They answered: “Who hath limited God's will?
He brought it on Pírán thus to be slain
In battle wretchedly and miserably,
To be beheaded by the scimitar,
And have no winding-sheet but grimy dust,
What while his foemen hale him here and there
With head and mail and raiment drenched in blood.
What was to be hath been—Pírán hath gone,
And all his work and toil have turned to wind.
Alive he was the pillar of the host,
His soul full of affection for his troops;
He was their guardian from the enemy,
And under-prized that noble head of his.
The other world is his for good or ill,
But surely God hath set him with the just.
His care for us surviveth his departure:
He made this compact with Gúdarz, and said:—
‘If I am slain upon the battlefield
Thou shalt not punish the Túránian host,
But let them have free passage to Túrán,
Not doing them a mischief in revenge.’
The Íránians will respect the covenant,
We feel no apprehension on that score.
There are three courses open, only three,
So hearken all of you, both old and young!
Forthwith; if ye will make for home set forward
For good or evil; but if ye propose
To fight, then let your spears be dipped in blood.
Discuss we these then from all points of view,
But God's will only can prevail at last.
If ye intend to fight delay a while
Because Pírán asked succour, and the king
Hath raised an army which may come in sight
At any time, and we shall be avenged.
If ye are purposed to return to land,
And throne, the Íránians surely will not hinder.
If ye would ask for quarter from the Sháh
Ye must bestir yourselves and go at once;
Each man of you is master of his fate,
And if your hearts are set upon Írán
Be not enraged against us brethren twain,
For never will we purge our hearts of wrath,
And there hath ne'er been one of Wísa's race
Whose waist the girdle's buckle hath not galled.
Obedient to Pírán's last words we go
To journey through the desert to Túrán,
And if the Íránians occupy the road
We will contend with them while strength remaineth.”
Mark what the Turkmans, hearing this, rejoined:—
“Our leader and ten noble warriors
Have been slain vilely thus. On the other side
Khusrau is seen approaching! Who dare tarry?
We have not steeds or arms or feet or wings,
We have not treasure, leader, field or fell,
We have not strength for fight or road for flight,
And have no cause to spite ourselves. If we
Come after us with elephants and troops,
Not one among us will escape with life,
Or see again his home and family.
To ask for quarter is no shame for us,
Who, great as is our host, are leaderless.
Who now will fear the monarch of Túrán?
Afrásiyáb is but a pinch of dust.
Why was he not like Kai Khusrau, who showed
What great affection to his troops he owed?”
Now, when the host thus answered, those two chiefs—
Lahhák and Farshídward—arose. They knew:—
“'Tis not their time for war, the troops are right:—
A flock without a shepherd perisheth.”
They bade the rest farewell and then they took
The longsome desert route, with flag in hand,
With hearts all grief and eyes all tears of blood.
They journeyed with ten noble cavaliers—
Brave warriors and ready for the fray.
Upon the road were horsemen of Írán—
An outpost-party and a gallant one.
The Turkmans charged, the outpost held its ground,
Strife rose unlooked for, earth grew tulip-like
With blood. Of those Íránians eight were slain—
Brave men and Lions on the day of battle—
While of the Turkmans none escaped with life
Except those two illustrious warriors,
Who went—a gallant pair—upon their way,
Like Lions, on their journey through the waste.
Then from the look-out cried the Íránian watch:—
“Ye nobles and ye gallant fighting men!
Two chieftains with ten noble cavaliers
Have issued from among the Turkman host;
They have engaged our outpost and have mixed
Have ridden off, and eight of ours are slain.”
Thereat Gúdarz said: “These must be Lahhák
And Farshídward, gone with their necks unbent
And hearts as yet unbroken by the fight;
If from Írán they journey to Túrán
Loss will assuredly befall our host;
Let him that seeketh honours from the Sháh
Now set upon his head a Rúman helmet,
Pursue Lahhák and Farshídward, and send
The dust up from them with his scimitar.”
Not one among the Íránians volunteered,
For they were spent, their reins were galled with iron,
Save Gustaham, in fight a lion grim,
Who said: “O thou who dost deserve a throne!
On going forth to combat with the Turkmans
Thou gavest me the drums, the camp-enclosure,
And chief command. While others sought renown
I had no share. Now will I compass fame
Herein, go forth, and take them in my toils.”
Gúdarz rejoiced and smiled on Gustaham;
His cheeks grew fresh, care left him and he said:—
“The sun hath given thee a happy fortune!
A Lion thou, thy prey the onager.
Go forth, God give to thee His help, and may
Three hundred like Lahhák become thy prey.”
Then Gustaham put on his mail, farewelled
Such warriors as he saw, and hurried forth
To fight those two proud Turkmans, while the troops
Among themselves said: “Evil will befall him.”
Came from Afrásiyáb to aid Pírán,
But when they neared the desert of Daghwí,
And tidings came to them: “Pírán is dead!
Thus went the combat of the champions,”
They all returned lamenting to their king.
Bízhan, informed that Gustaham had gone
To fight against Lahhák and Farshídward,
Thought: “If he reach Daghwí they must not send
The dust up from him on the day of battle.”
Then with heart wrung with grief for Gustaham
He went, like lion grim, to seek his grandsire,
And, seeing him, spake loudly and at large:—
“O paladin! it sorteth ill with wisdom
Thus to surrender every man of name
In thy command to wanton massacre,
And make the turning sky responsible!
Two lusty warriors of the Turkman host
Have hurried on their way like lions. Both
Are braver than Pírán or than Húmán,
And nobles of their land by native worth.
Now Gustaham hath gone to fight the two!
He must not be defeated. All our joy
Will turn to grief if from our host we lose
That lion-man.”
On hearing this, Gúdarz,
Perceiving his distress, mused much and long,
Took the same view and told the warriors:—
“Whoever is in quest of name and rank,
Let him go after Gustaham with speed
To give him aid against his enemies.”
None of the company returned an answer,
None cared for him and none was rested yet.
None of the warriors will succour him,
For no one is aweary of his life.
I must depart myself since at his case
My heart is full of grief, my face of tears.”
Gúdarz replied to him: “O lion-man,
Unused as yet to this world's heat and cold!
Dost not thou see that we are conquering?
Rush not upon this enterprise, my son!
For Gustaham will triumph and behead them.
Abide and I will send a cavalier,
Like lion grim, to help him in the fight,
And lay upon the dust his foemen's heads.”
“O prudent, wise, and ardent paladin!”
Bízhan replied, “he must be helped while living,
Not when the foes are sending up his dust.
When he is slain, and all is over with him,
What profit will it be to send a horseman
To find him slaughtered and his head in blood?
So order me, who am concerned for him,
To gird my girdle tightly in this quest;
But if thou sayest: ‘Go not,’ I forthwith
Will cut my head off with this watered steel,
For if he dieth I will not survive;
So seek no pretext for refusing me.”
Gúdarz replied: “Go after him at once
If thou hast no regard for thine own life.
Since thou art still insatiate of fight
Gird thee and stay not e'en to scratch thy head.
Good sooth! thy heart is cold toward thy sire
Though thou dost burn his liver constantly;
Thou wilt but cover thine own head with dust;
How much I dread thy passion for the fray!”
Bízhan bent, kissed the ground, and went his way.
And put the saddle on his steed Shabrang.
News reached Gív of the doings of Bízhan,
How he had armed to fight with Farshídward.
Gív sprang up, mounted swift as smoke his Arab,
Went to Bízhan, seized on his bridle, dragged him
Aside, and said: “How often have I warned thee
In vain! Thou givest me no moment's pleasure.
Now whither wouldst thou hasten? Grieve me not
By every act. What wouldst thou have me do,
Hoar as I am? I have no son but thee,
And know no happiness when thou art sorry.
Ten days and nights hast thou been in the saddle,
And borne the vengeful sword against the foe;
Thou hast been galled by coat of mail and helm:
Wilt thou be never satiate with blood?
Since He that giveth good hath given us
The victory, we ought to rest with joy.
Why stake thy head before its time? Too much
Thou trustest to thy sword. None is successful
In this world save he seek his proper end.
Forestall not fate so fast, for even now
Its eye is on us; for thy father's sake
Abandon this; thou shouldst not vex my heart.”
“O full of wisdom!” thus Bízhan replied,
“Men think not thus of thee. Hast thou forgotten
The past? Why fondly turn away from justice?
Know, father! what thou sayest is unjust.
Hast thou forgot the battle of Ládan,
And our companionship in weal and woe?
If in God's providence the evil day
Is imminent no caution will avert
What is decreed, and further talk is useless.
So strive not to divert me from the fight,
For I have pledged my life to this emprise.”
Then Gív: “If thou art fixed it will be best
For us to fare o'er hill and dale together,
And I will give thee aid in everything.”
“Now God forbid that we three warriors,”
Bízhan said, “of the chiefs of royal race
Should chase two craven Turkmans all that way!
So by our bright-souled monarch's life and head,
By that famed paladin my grandsire's life,
And by the blood of Siyáwush, return,
And let me go. I will not do thy bidding,
Because thou sayest: ‘Turn away from fight.’”
Gív, hearing this, relented and bestowed
His blessing on his son, then left him, saying:—
“Go conquering and come again with joy,
Heart-easèd, having bound the hands of evil.”
Bízhan made haste to follow Gustaham
Lest ill should come upon him from Túrán.
Now when Lahhák and Farshídward had passed
The river, speeding onward like the dust,
They journeyed in an hour seven leagues,
And felt in safety from the Íránian host.
They caught sight of a forest and a stream—
A shady resting-place for warriors.
Inside the wood were lions, fowl, and game,
Trees overhead with grass and stream below.
They halted there to hunt, and being thirsty
For grief and joy stay not the appetite.
They went among the pastures, dropped much game,
Then lit a fire and, having eaten kabáb,
Went to the stream. There Farshídward kept watch,
Lahhák reposed. Bright is no warrior's day
Whene'er he hath been worsted in the fray.
Now Gustaham meanwhile was drawing nigh
The spot. His charger smelt the other steeds,
Began to neigh, and hurried on apace.
The charger of Lahhák by that same token
Neighed back again as though it had been mad,
While Farshídward came rushing to Lahhák,
And roused him from sweet slumber, saying thus:—
“Bestir thee from thy pleasant sleep and slay
The head of evil fortune like a man,
Because a sage once spake this weighty saw:—
‘Whenas the lion from the wolf shall flee
Let not the wolf go in pursuit, for he
Will bring upon himself calamity.’
Ho! rouse thee, for an army from Írán
Hath cut us off!”
Both mounted, left the meadow,
And scanned the plain to see what course to take.
And, having craned their heads and recognised
The foe, spake thus together: “One approacheth.
It cannot be but Gustaham that cometh,
The banner of the brave in hand, to battle.
We need not flee unless to draw him on
Out to the open; there he shall not 'scape
Unless our evil fortune play the tyrant.”
Thence turned they toward the plain with Gustaham,
The vengeful, in pursuit, who drawing nigh
Roared like a furious lion, raining arrows
Of poplar, and when Farshídward advanced
To combat smote him on the head—a sword-stroke
That mixed his brains with blood. He tumbled head-long,
And yielded up the ghost. So passed away
That famous warrior of Wísa's seed.
Whenas Lahhák beheld his brother's face,
And knew that he was then at peace from strife,
He trembled and became distraught with grief,
While all turned black to him. His ardent soul
Grew sick of life, he strung his bow, came on
With weeping eyes and shot at Gustaham.
First one shot, then the other. Not an arrow
Fell to the ground. Both cavaliers were wounded,
Then fought with scimitars, till suddenly
The advantage came to Gustaham, who twitched
His reins, charged, smote Lahhák upon the neck,
And brought upon him Doom's Day in a moment.
His head rolled under foot as 'twere a ball,
And all his battles and his warfare ended.
Such usage hath the turning sky above,
Withdrawing from its fosterlings its love!
Wouldst thou a foot? The head affronteth thee!
So hurt was Gustaham, though not unhorsed,
That thou hadst said: “The man will break in
pieces!”
Bent down upon his saddle he advanced,
And, as he urged his charger, dripped with blood.
He came anear a spring, saw stream and shade,
Alighted, tied his charger to a tree,
And, having drunken largely of the water
That he had chanced upon, gave thanks to God,
But thou hadst said: “The earth hath bound him
down,”
So writhed he wallowing in the grimy dust,
His form all gashes with the scimitar,
And said: “Almighty Ruler of the world!
Of all mine army and my family
Inspire affection for me in Bízhan,
Gív's son, or other famous warrior,
That he may carry me alive or dead
Hence to the host that they may know that I
Have died with glory, and I ask no more.”
He moaned till morning and throughout the night
Writhed snake-like on the dust in painful plight.
Now when the world grew radiant with the sun
Bízhan arrived and roamed the mead to find
Some trace of his lost comrade. He descried
Far off a dun steed like one ridden post.
It pranced and grazed, like leopards at their ease,
With saddle underneath and broken reins.
Bízhan descried the saddle upside down,
The stirrups and the lasso drenched with blood,
A sight whereat his wits abandoned him,
And like a roaring lion's was his cry.
Thus said he: “O my comrade kind and good!
Where hast thou fallen in the pasturage?
And as for dear life I have done with it.
What shall I say? Where shall I seek thee now?
What tricks hath yonder sky played off on thee?”
He followed up the horse-tracks to the spring,
And there saw Gustaham upon the mead,
His mail and helmet smirched with dust and blood,
Himself flung headlong down—a mass of wounds.
Bízhan alighted swiftly from Shabrang,
And pressed his comrade in a close embrace,
Removed the Rúman breastplate that he wore,
And took the helmet from his wounded head,
Surveyed his body in its stricken plight,
Saw that the wounds, whence matter ran, were mortal
If left undressed, and that his heart and soul
Were filled with grief and anguish. Scanning well
These wounds Bízhan lamented o'er him saying:—
“O my good comrade! thou hast gone, and I
Have striven but ill. I should have sought thee sooner,
And come upon the scene when thou wast fighting.
I might have helped thee at the time of need,
When thou wast combating with Áhriman,
But now the foe hath satisfied his lust
And done whate'er he would.”
The wounded man
Was roused and breathing hard replied: “Good friend!
Grieve not for me; thy pain is worse to me
Than mine own death. Re-helm my wounded head,
And make some shift to bear me to the Sháh.
God grant that I may live to look on him,
And then I shall not fear the approach of death,
For none of us may couch save in the dust.
And compassed all his purpose, is not dead.
Next as for these two cowards, craven foes,
Whom God hath slain through me, thou mayst perchance
Make shift to carry them upon a saddle,
Or, if not so, behead them, and convey
Their noble heads and weapons when thou goest
That men may understand about this combat;
Tell too the Sháh, the ruler of the world,
That, not in vain, I gave my head to wind,
But roughed it everywhere in quest of fame.”
He pointed out those Turkmans to Bízhan,
Far in the distance, slain, and cast away;
Then faintness seized his soul. Bízhan, distraught
With grief, went to his charger, loosed the girths,
Laid, wailing bitterly, the saddle-cloth
Beneath the wounded man, tore up his shirt
For bandages, and bound the wounds with care.
Grief-gloomed of soul he hurried to a hill,
Thence spied some scattered Turkman cavaliers
Upon the desert, came down swift as lightning,
Distraught by dread that Gustaham might die,
And all at once of those fear-stricken horsemen
Saw from afar two speeding on their way.
He loosed his lasso, noosed a Turkman's neck,
Flung him, but gave him quarter for his life,
And thus obtained a helper for himself.
Thence hasting on like dust before the wind
He went toward Lahhák and Farshídward,
And found them on the ground and drenched with blood,
While at their heads their chargers grazed at ease.
Bízhan saw all and lauded Gustaham
Because he had achieved complete revenge.
To place those two commanders of the host
Upon a saddle, then like some fierce pard
Returned to Gustaham, raised him like wind
Upon the saddle gently with no pain,
And bade that Turkman mount upon the steed,
And clasp the wounded man about the waist.
The Turkman travelled at an easy pace,
Invoking fervent blessings on Bízhan,
Who rode in pain and grief, all soul-distraught
For Gustaham—would he avail to bring
The wounded man still living to the king?
The day was nine hours old, the sun was leaving
The vault of heaven, what time Khusrau, the world-lord,
Approached in state his army on the field.
The chiefs, the nobles, and the warriors
All went afoot to welcome him, the sages
Blessed him and said: “Hail, monarch and high
priest!”
Khusrau was mounted that the troops might see him,
And in return saluted, saying thus:—
“May earth be ever peopled with the brave.”
Behind the army like a mountain came
Gúdarz, such was the custom, with his comrades—
These same ten champions, who upon the field
Of fight had sent the dust up from their foe—
Whose bodies, arms, and mail were smirched with blood.
The champions followed thus behind the host,
And in their turn saluted Kai Khusrau.
Gúdarz went on his way toward the Sháh,
And lighted on beholding him far off;
Then, having drawn anigh, did reverence,
And wallowed in the dust before his lord,
Exhibited the corpses of the slain,
And told him how the champions had been paired.
Gív brought Gurwí, the son of Zira, running
Before the valiant leader of Írán;
Khusrau beheld him, deeply sighed, dismounted,
And offered praises to the Almighty, saying:—
“Praise be to God, to Him who is our refuge,
And gave to us both might and vietory!”
The Sháh stood up while uttering his praise,
And lifted from his head the Kaian crown.
He called down blessings from the righteous Judge
Both on the paladin and on his troops,
And said: “O famous men and fortunate!
Ye are the fire, your foes are only reeds.
Gúdarz the chieftain and his kin—those men
As fierce as fire—have given soul and body,
And ta'en the very life-breath from Túrán.
Now will I share with you my royal treasures,
And will not grudge you e'en mine own right hand.”
He then surveyed the slain and, when he saw
The Turkman general, shed tears of sorrow,
Remembering Pírán's good offices;
His heart burned so that thou hadst said: “It flameth!”
With visage stained with blood-drops from his eyes
He made oration o'er that chieftain's death:—
“Ill fortune is a Dragon grim and snareth
Great lions with its breath; none may escape
Thou hast been troubled for me all my life,
And hast for my sake laboured strenuously.
This man deplored the blood of Siyáwush,
And in that matter gave offence to none.
So friendly was he yet became a foe,
And filled the country of Írán with fear,
For Áhriman seduced his heart and turned
His rede to other ends. Full many a time
I counselled him, but he misprized my words.
He would not leave Afrásiyáb, and now
His sovereign hath thus requited him!
We wished for him another recompence,
Prepared for him a throne and diadem,
But matters have gone further than we purposed,
And heaven hath turned above him otherwise.
Wrong took the place of love within his heart,
So that his countenance was changed toward us.
He came to fight against you with his host,
And slaughtered many of the Íránians,
Rejected all the counsels of Gúdarz,
Mine own injunctions, and my warriors' words,
Made havoc of his honest heart's affection,
Mixed up together bane and antidote,
And when he hasted from Túrán to fight
His fate was on the javelin of Gúdarz.
He gave up son and brother, crown and girdle,
Arms, men of war, and station, field and fell,
All in the quarrel of Afrásiyáb,
And fate hath come upon him suddenly.”
He ordered that the body should be washed
With musk, pure camphor, and rose-water mixed
With spices, and embalmed with musk and camphor,
And clad it stainless with brocade of Rúm.
The mountain was Pírán's grave, and Khusrau
In his affection had a charnel built,
And raised its summit to the turning sky.
Such as befitted men of high degree.
They placed the Turkman paladins thereon
With belted waists and crowns upon their heads.
Such is the world in its perfidiousness!
It raiseth oft and bringeth down no less,
So that the sage's heart must ever be,
At this world's process, in perplexity.
Khusrau then looked upon Gurwí, the son
Of Zira, cursing him as he deserved,
Looked on that loathly face wherefrom the hair
Hung down like dívs', and said: “O God! Thou knowest
The manifest and hidden. Of a truth
Káús had done amiss and grieved the Maker
In that He raised up such a dív as this
'Gainst Siyáwush. I wot not why Gurwí
Should hate that faultless one, but by His might
Who ruleth all and giveth good—the Guide—
I will have vengeance on Afrásiyáb
For Siyáwush and soon.”
He bade disjoint
Gurwí with cords and fling into a stream,
First cutting off, as 'twere a sheep's, the head.
“So must I treat Afrásiyáb,” he said.
The Sháh abode upon the battlefield
Awhile, employed upon the host's affairs,
Bestowing kingdoms, crowns, and robes of honour
On those that had deserved them; Ispahán,
The crown of greatness, and the throne of chiefs,
With him the toil and glory of revenge
Had robes of honour equal to their meed.
Then from the Turkman troops still on the field,
O'er whom Pírán had held command, there came
A prudent envoy to the Sháh, and said:—
“We are the slaves and servants of the Sháh,
And take no step unless at his command.
None can escape the providence of God
E'en though he be within the Dragon's breath.
The monarch is aware what men we are,
And for what cause we girded up our loins.
The case of Siyáwush was not our fault,
But Áhriman seduced our monarch's heart.
He is a headstrong man and ill-advised,
With no respect for chiefs or fear of God,
And we have suffered from that day till now,
And washed our cheeks in heart-felt tears. At home
Our kindred is all sorrowful, our wives
And children mourn us. Not through lust of fighting,
Not for field, fell, and throne, have we come hither,
Yet evil hath befallen us herein,
And sires have lost their sons, and sons their sires.
If thou wilt give us quarter we will gird
Our loins as slaves before thee. We are all
Within the gullet of the Crocodile
In that we are at warfare with thy host;
But in our army there are many chiefs
Well worthy of the service of the Sháh.
We are in fault and he is sovereign;
Whate'er we suffer at his hands is well.
We will bring all our chiefs to him, but not
With any thought of strife or murmuring.
If in his heart he harboureth revenge
On us, use warranteth beheading foes,
While well it is if he shall pardon us:
Let him do that which seemeth good to him.”
Their lamentable speech he pardoned them,
And bade them come before him. So they came
At his desire to seek to clear themselves,
And as they laid their heads upon the ground
Their hearts were full, their eyes shed vengeful tears.
Then looking up to heaven the monarch said:—
“Almighty Judge, our Help! these are the troops
That with their heads full of revenge desired
To bring the country of Írán to dust,
That scatter everywhere the bane that biteth,
And fling therein the heads of noble chiefs;
But now the Almighty hath so dealt with them
That they lack rede and knowledge, foot and head.
To Him I stretch my hands, for He sufficeth;
I want no other helper in the world.
In this regard a wise man spake a saw,
When mounting on his saddle for the fight:—
‘This charger is a shining throne to me,
The rest is left to sleepless destiny.
In this campaign a crown and throne we seek,
Or else the customary bier of teak;
Or I may fall within the leopard's claws,
Or with my brain replenish vultures' maws.’
Your evil deeds recoil upon yourselves
As every man of wisdom is aware.
I have not washed my hands in blood of yours,
Nor will I aggravate your evil plight.
Ye are in my protection, one and all,
However hostile to my throne ye be.
Whoever doth desire to stay can stay;
He shall experience neither gain nor loss;
And whosoever of you would return
To his own king, I will not hinder him,
For I have no occasion through God's strength
For more or less, for labour or for greed.”
The Turkmans, having heard the Sháh's harangue,
Removed their casques and owned themselves o'ercome;
Though warrior-leopards they became like deer.
Their armour, falchions, spears, and javelins.
Those haughty Turkmans piled up to the moon
Their armour for the steeds and Rúman helms,
And then they set up all around the heap
Their flags of yellow, red, and violet,
And sware great oaths: “We all through life will be
The servitors and bondslaves of the Sháh,
And charge our hearts with love for him.”
Thereon
The watchful Sháh forgave them their misdeeds
Completely, and dispersed them out of hand
In various settlements throughout the land.
Thereafter from the look-out came a cry:—
“The dust of horse hath risen from the way;
I see afar three steeds, each with a corpse
Bound wretchedly upon it, and therewith
One cavalier.”
The Iránian chieftains all
Turned to the road their eyes in wonder, asking:—
“Who is this warrior of Irán that cometh
So hardily across the battlefield?”
Anon Bízhan came riding up; his bow
Hung on his arm; Lahhák and Farshídward
Were flung across two steeds, all blood and dust,
While on another steed was Gustaham,
In pain and grief, borne in a Turkman's arms.
Bízhan drew nigher still. He laid his face
Upon the ground and kissed it when he saw
His monarch's head and crown and lofty throne.
Khusrau joyed at the sight of him and asked:—
“O lion-man! how went it on the field?”
Bízhan then told the tale of Gustaham,
Lahhák, and valiant Farshídward, the plight
The cavaliers, and all things great and small.
He added: “Gustaham hath one desire,
And one not grievous for the Sháh to grant:
He hath a wish to look upon the Sháh,
And then is ready to give up the ghost.”
Thereat the Sháh commanded in his kindness
That Gustaham should be produced before him.
Now Gustaham was hurt so grievously
That thou hadst said: “He barely draweth breath,”
Yet at the perfume of the king of kings
The warrior writhed and turned toward Khusrau
His eyes wherefrom he showered drops of love;
The monarch bathed his countenance in tears
Of blood, the nobles wept as they had been
Consuming in fierce fire. Khusrau was grieved
To lose a chief whose head beneath his helm
Was battle's anvil. From Húshang, Jamshíd,
And Tahmúras, the Sháh inherited
An amulet—the hope of wounded men—
And ever bare it on his arm but, since
His heart was yearning upon Gustaham,
He took the precious jewel off and bound it
Upon the warrior's arm, and stroked his wounds.
He placed by Gustaham physicians brought
From Hind, Rúm, Chín, Túrán, and from Írán
By world-wide quest for such contingencies,
Recited over him all manner of spells,
And thence departing to the place of prayer
Much communed with the Maker of the world.
Two sennights thus passed o'er the wounded man,
Who was restored to health and happiness.
They carried him on horseback to the Sháh;
The monarch of the world, on seeing him,
We all are fortunate and happy now;
When we had gained the day did not our grief
For Gustaham subdue our mirthfulness?
This is in brief the All Provider's love,
And not man's knowledge or solicitude.”
He called Bízhan, the son of Gív, and set
In his the hand of gallant Gustaham,
And said: “Know that good fortune is of God;
So take not any credit to thyself,
Because He ever is the Succourer,
And only He can help us in our need.
If any dead man ever came to life
The World-lord hath so dealt with Gustaham.”
To Gustaham he said: “In these our days
I have not seen a helper like Bízhan.
Had he not chosen toil on thine account
Who would have seen thanksgivings such as these?”
The Sháh stayed yet a sennight at Raibad,
Bestowing drachms, dínárs, and various gifts,
While sending messengers on every side
To great men and to nobles with commands
That they should come to court equipped for war,
“For we intend to fight the king of Gang.”
Now that the battles of Pírán are told,
The combatings of Kai Khusrau unfold,
And marshal, poet! in thine expert brain
The choicest words to tell the vengeance ta'en
By that impetuous Sháh—the wreak that he
Sought on Afrásiyáb laboriously.
The poet begins with an elaborate prelude wherein he eulogizes Mahmúd and then continues his story of the reign as follows: Kai Khusrau and Afrásiyáb both resolve to carry on the war with vigour. Their preparations are described. The armies meet, fruitless parleys follow, Shída challenges Kai Khusrau to single combat and is slain. A general engagement ensues, Afrásiyáb is defeated and takes refuge in Gang-bihisht, which is stormed by Kai Khusrau. Afrásiyáb escapes and, helped by the Khán and the Faghfúr, renews the struggle, is again defeated, flees to Gang-dizh, whither he is pursued by Kai Khusrau, again escapes, becomes a fugitive, and finally takes refuge in a cave, where he is made prisoner by the hermit Húm and put to death with his brother Garsíwaz by Kai Khusrau. Kai Káús dies. Kai Khusrau falls into melancholy, persists in giving up the throne, appoints Luhrásp to be his successor, rides with his paladins into the mountains, and disappears. Those who remain with him till the end are lost in the snow. Luhrásp becomes Sháh.
On this Part as a whole see Vol. III., p. 8.
§ 1. See Vol. I., p. 30 seq.
§§ 2 and 3. It will be noticed that in this part of the poem several names reappear that have been long absent from its pages, e.g. Ighríras and Káran. The son of Tús is also mentioned, and it is probable that the Zarásp slain by Farúd in Part I. of this reign is intended. Such names are the common property of different and often inconsistent traditions.
Afrásiyáb's son Shída is also called Pashang. We keep invariably to the former name, as there are other Pashangs—the father of Afrásiyáb and the father of Minúchihr.
§ 12. Afrásiyáb's brother, whose head Kai Khusrau sends to Kai Káús, is apparently the Ighríras mentioned on p. 156. According to another tradition Afrásiyáb had slain his brother Ighríras long before for treachery.136
§§ 13, 31, 36, 38. In these and other sections the reader will note that there are two Gangs—Gang-bihisht, in the original Bihisht-i-Gang, and Gang-dizh—due to the existence of variants of the same legend. For Gang-dizh see Vol. II., p. 189.
Mount Ispurúz was the scene of the defeat of Kai Káús by the White Dív,136a
and therefore must be identified with some mountain of the Alburz range bordering Mázandarán, while the sea crossed by Afrásiyáb in his flight from Kai Khusrau can be no other than the Caspian, yet Kai Khusrau is described as sailing from and returning to the sea-shore of Makrán, i.e. Balúchistán, so that we may have here a survival of the old cosmogony (Vol. I., p. 71). The sea crossed by Afrásiyáb and Kai Khusrau is called “the water of Zirih,” and this expression, like the corresponding one in the account of Kai Káús' expedition to Barbaristán, is merely equiva-ent to “sea.”136b
§§ 40-44. The old epic story of the feud that began with the murder of Íraj ends appropriately in Ázarbáiján. In Firdausí's version Kai Khusrau and Kai Káús, in despair of catching Afrásiyáb after his flight from Gang-dizh, go on a pilgrimage to the temple of Ázargashasp and pray that he may be delivered into their hands. In the meantime Afrásiyáb has taken refuge in a cave near lake Khanjast136c
(Urumiah) in Ázarbáiján, making it, as the poet says, his palace and his home. Here he is overheard bewailing himself and is captured by the hermit Húm, but escapes by a subterfuge and plunges into the lake. Gúdarz and Gív happen to be passing at the time, and the former is said to have recalled an old story to mind when Húm informs them of the state of affairs. They communicate with Kai Khusrau and Kai Káús, Afrásiyáb is induced to come forth from the water by a stratagem, and is put to death with his brother Garsíwaz. Most of these incidents appear in the older authorities but, as Darmesteter has pointed out,136d
not in the connexion in which they appear in the Sháhnáma. In these the story may be pieced together thus: Afrásiyáb, we are told, made his residence in Mount Bakyír.136e
We learn from the Aogemaidé—a Pahlaví discourse on death—that this palace was an iron one, underground, a thousand times the height of a man, and with a hundred columns. In that palace he made the stars, the moon, and the sun go round, making the light of day. In that palace he did everything at his pleasure, and lived the happiest life, but with all his strength and witchcraft could not escape Astivihád (the demon of death).137
Here too he sacrificed a hundred male horses, a thousand oxen and ten thousand lambs that he might seize the Glory that was in the sea Vouru-Kasha and belonged to the Aryan people.137a
Three times he sought to seize it in the sea Vouru-Kasha, stripping himself naked in his desire to seize that Glory that belongs to the Aryan nations, born and unborn, and to the holy Zarathustra. But the Glory escaped, the Glory fled away, the Glory changed its seat. Then the most crafty Turanian Frangrasyan (Afrásiyáb) rushed out of the sea Vouru-Kasha, thinking evil thoughts: “I have not been able to conquer the Glory.”137b
We read farther how the gallant Husravah (Khusrau) offered up a sacrifice behind the Kaékasta lake, the deep lake of salt waters. He begged a boon saying: “Grant me this, O great Ashi Vanguhi! that I may kill the Turanian murderer, Frangrasyan, behind the Kaékasta lake, the deep lake of salt waters, to avenge the murder of my father Syávarshána (Siyáwush), a man, and of Aghraératha (Ighríras), a semi-man.” The great Ashi Vanguhi ran and came to his side. The gallant Husravah, he who united the Aryan nations into one kingdom, obtained that boon.137c
So that … the lord Kavi Husravah prevailed over all; he put in bonds Frangrasyan and Keresavazda (Garsíwaz).137d
Of the god Haoma (the hermit Húm of the Sháhnáma) we read that he offered sacrifice, Haoma, the enlivening, the healing, the beautiful, the lordly, with golden eyes, upon the highest height of the Haraiti Bareza. He begged … a boon, saying: “Grant me this boon, O good, most beneficent Drváspa! that I may bind the Turanian murderer, Frangrasyan, that I may drag him bound … unto king Husravah, that king Husravah may kill him, behind the Kaékasta lake, the deep lake of salt waters, to avenge the murder of his father Syávarshána, a man, and of Aghraératha, a semi-man.” The powerful Drváspa, made by Mazda, the holy Drváspa, the maintainer, granted him that boon, as he was offering up libations, giving gifts, sacrificing, and entreating that she would give him that boon.137e
Elsewhere we read: “Quick, cut off then Haoma's portion, gift of flesh for doughty Haoma! Heed lest Haoma bind thee fettered, as he bound the fell Turanian Frangrasyan (the murderous robber) fast in iron close-surrounded in the mid-third of this earth!”138
The original version of the story therefore would seem to have been that Afrásiyáb built himself an underground palace where he offered sacrifice to obtain the Glory of the Íránian race, but vainly. He then attempted three times to seize it by force and again failed. Haoma then captured him in his palace and handed him over to Husravah, who slew him. Firdausí, it will be observed, represents Afrásiyáb's attempt to seize the Glory as an attempt to escape from Húm. Haoma is of course the personification of the ancient Aryan drink-offering138a
and a god of the old nature-worship. It is one of the instances in which such divine beings have become human in the Sháhnáma. Another instance is that of Kai Khusrau himself, in whom a trace of his divine origin is to be found in his passing without death to heaven. This trait is found in the Zandavasta: “Mayest thou be freed from sickness and death, like king Husravah!”138b
§§ 47-63. The legend of Kai Khusrau's melancholy, his expedition into the mountains, and his attainment to Heaven without having tasted death, has its parallel in the great Indian epie the Mahábhárata, where Yudhishthira, the eldest of the five Pándavas, becoming weary of the world, resolves to retire from the sovereignty and acquire merit by pilgrimage. On hearing of his intentions his four brothers—Bhima, Arjuna, and the twins Nakula and Sahadeva—resolve to follow his example and accompany him. Yudhishthira appoints successors to his various kingdoms, and makes a distribution of his treasures. He then once more summons his subjects and informs them of his intentions. “The citizens and the inhabitants of the provinces, hearing the king's words, became filled with anxiety and disapproved of them. ‘This should never be done’—said they unto the king. The monarch, well versed with the changes brought about by time, did not listen to their counsels. Possessed of righteous soul, he persuaded the people to sanction his views. … Then Dharma's son, Yudhishthira, the king of the Kurus, casting off his ornaments, wore barks of trees. Bhima and Arjuna and the twins, and Draupadi also of great fame,138c
similarly clad themselves in barks of trees. … The ladies, beholding the princes in that guise, wept aloud. … The five brothers, with Draupadi forming the sixth, and a dog forming the seventh, set out on their journey. … The citizens and the ladies of the royal household followed them for some distance. … The denizens of the city then returned” to their new ruler and to the new situation caused by the renunciation of the Pándavas. The seven pilgrims meanwhile had set out upon their journey. They first wandered eastward, then southward, and then westward. Lastly they faced northward and crossed the Himavat. Then they beheld before them a vast desert of sand and beyond it Mount Meru. One by one the pilgrims sank exhausted and expired, first Draupadi, then the twins, then Arjuna, and then Bhima; but Yudhishthira, who never even looked back at his fallen comrades, still pressed on and, followed by the faithful dog, who turns out to be Dharma, the god of righteousness, in disguise, entered Heaven in his mortal body, not having tasted death.139
On comparing this legend with that of the text it will be seen that, in spite of natural differences of detail, the resemblances are too numerous and close to be wholly accidental. In both legends two kings, after triumphing over their mortal foes in a great war, become world-weary and determine to renounce the sovereignty. In both the people protest in vain. Both kings appoint their successor, whom the people accept. Both bestow gifts and other favours on their chiefs. In both we have the lamentations of the kings' wives. Both journey into the mountains with a devoted band, the number of which is the same in both cases, and both are accompanied by a divine being, for the part of the dog in the Indian legend is indicated in the Íránian as being taken by Surúsh, the angel of Urmuzd.139a
In both the leaders pass deathless into Heaven, and in both their mortal comrades perish. One legend therefore must be derived from the other, or else, and this seems to be the better opinion, they must be referred to a common origin of great antiquity.
And signet-ring, bless him whose treasuries groan
With his munificence, what while the fame
Of majesty is heightened by his name.
From sea to sea hosts answer to his call,
The Glory of his crown is over all;
No gold is in the mine, to men unknown,
That fortune hath not reckoned as his own;
And, God assisting him to all his ends,
He spoileth foemen to enrich his friends.
At feasts he scattereth treasure, while in fight
The Elephant and Lion feel his might,
And when he dominateth lands in war
He bringeth Doomsday with his scimitar;
But, whether jewels with his hand he fling,
Or wield a sword, he seeketh one sole thing—
That heaven at feast shall hail him as a Sea,140
In fight as sun-faced Lion. All agree—
Earth, water, and the heavenly Fount of light—
That such another Sháh ne'er was for fight,
For gifts and toil, for glory and renown.
Mixed he not love with war he would bring down,
When wroth, the stars. Strong is he, his array
Such that therein the wind is barred of way.
Seven hundred elephants of mighty size
Bring up his army's rear, and his allies
He claimeth tribute, and from every state;
While, if they pay not, all is lost to them—
Their country, treasure, throne, and diadem.
Who dare break fealty with him or slight
His bidding who at feast is this world's Light,
And Mountain with the breastplate on in fight?
Abú'l Kásim! may that brave king—the cause
That freeth onager from lion's claws,
World-lord Mahmúd, who bringeth to the ground
Chiefs' heads in fight—be Sháh, the moon be crowned
By his high star, world without end, forwhy
He is the Adornment of the radiant sky,
At feasts a Cloud bestowing bounteously,
And dowered with wisdom, justice, and renown.
May this world never lack his head and crown.
He hath host, courage, minister, and treasure,
And one to him are fight and scenes of pleasure.
O'er all the world one carpet hath been placed—
His token nevermore to be effaced—
And on it are a cushion and a seat—
For Fazl, son of Ahmad, a man replete
With justice, prudence, rede, and godly fear;
No Sháh before had such a minister.
In his hands is the peace of all the state,
For he is good and chief of all the great,
Frank-spoken, with clean hands and single heart;
To serve God and his sovereign is his part.
With this wise, upright minister for friend
My far-extending labour reached its end.
I framed this story of the days of yore,
Selected from the book of men of lore,
That it in mine old age might yield me fruit,
Give me a crown, dínárs, and high repute,
But saw no bounteous world-lord; there was none
Who added to the lustre of the throne.
I waited for a patron patiently—
One whose munificence required no key,
To make the crown and ivory throne more bright,
Strong in the battles of the brave, acute
In why and wherefore, one to bring to fruit
The bough of Faith and wisdom, and confute
By mere conjecture other sages' lore,
Should think no ill and rest in God secure.
While three score years and five were passing by,
Like spring-winds o'er the desert, poverty
And toil were mine; next year like one bemused
I leaned upon a staff, my hands refused
The rein, my cheeks grew moon-like pale, my beard
Lost its black hue and camphor-like appeared,
Mine upright stature bent as age came on,
And all the lustre of mine eyes was gone.
When I was fifty-eight, and when in truth
I still felt young though I had lost my youth,
A proclamation reached mine ears at last
Whereat care aged and all my troubles pass'd.
It ran: “Ye men of name who long to find
Some trace of Farídún still left behind!
See bright-souled Farídún alive again
With earth and time for bondslaves. He hath ta'en
The world by justice and by largessings,
And is exalted o'er all other kings.
Bright are the records of his earlier day,
And may he flourish, fruit and root, for aye!”
Now since that proclamation reached mine ear
I wish not any other sound to hear;
In his name have I fashioned this my lay,
And may his end be universal sway,
For he—this lord of sword and crown and throne—
Will be mine aid now that my youth hath gone.
I ask of God almighty and most high
That I so long may 'scape calamity
That in the world-king's name I may tell o'er
These tales, omitting naught of ancient lore;
My quick soul to the mines of Paradise.
The righteous judge and bounteous lord of earth,
In whom it seeth every kind of worth,
The lord of Chín, the lord of Hindústán,
Lord of Írán and country of Túrán,
The lord of splendour and exalted aim,
Beyond the reach of calumny and blame,
At whose voice crocodiles in water crack
Their skins, and leopards on the desert-track,
Mahmúd, the world-lord, like the sun in light,
A Lion with a scimitar in fight,
From every want on earth will set me free,
And rank me high in his nobility.
For ever may his throne endure, and still
May fortune turn according to his will!
At feasts what are dínárs to him but dust?
His bounty causeth not his heart distrust.
Bold is the man that praiseth him, I wis
Such praisers do not know what praising is,
Because the world's king passeth thought. 'Tis his
As Jupiter's own diadem to be.
I have endured, O king! a slavery
That some memorial may be left of me.
The homes that are the dwellings of to-day
Will sink 'neath shower and sunshine to decay,
But storm and rain shall never mar what I
Have built—the palace of my poetry.
As years pass o'er the tale that I have writ
Each man possessed of wisdom reading it
Shall bless the world-lord Sháh and say: “May none
Behold unfilled by him the royal throne!”
His own achievements celebrate his name,
And all the world is witness to his fame.
For me, I cannot offer praises meet,
But I will laud the dust upon his feet.
May this age live for him alone and may
His fortune be illumed by wisdom's ray,
As merry be his heart as jocund spring,
May time no scath upon his person bring
Victorious ever, and a man of might.
So long as round the earth the heaven shall spin,
And Jupiter pursue its course therein,
May he continue in his grace and pride—
No evil eye, no want unsatisfied!
I now resume mine old-world legendry
From true traditions. As time's course I see
I need none other to admonish me.
The combatings of Kai Khusrau arise
Before me: ye must hear my witcheries,
For I shall shower pearls as I descant,
And in among the rocks my tulips plant,
Now have I got a theme long known to me,
Such that the marrow of my speech 'twill be.
O thou who lookest on a bygone age!
Joy sometimes filleth thee and sometimes rage,
And wondrous 'tis how many novel smarts
Yon turning sky reserveth for our hearts!
One's lot throughout his years is grief and fret,
And he must taste of sorrow and regret;
Another's portion is all honey, sweet,
Indulgence, luxury, and lofty seat;
Another hath to walk a treacherous way,
Whiles up, whiles down. Such fosterage we meet
From fortune, but the thorn-prick will out-stay
The blushing of its rose, and at three score
The hand should be withheld from grasping more,
While to survive to three score years and ten
'Neath heaven's vicissitudes is not for men,
Or if, worse hap! one live so many years,
Existence then is but a cause for tears.
If three score years were but a fishing seine144
A wise man would not seek escape in vain,
But through the turning sky or through the net
Spread by the sun and moon I cannot get.
The gust of vengeance and delight of pelf,
Yet must he pass hence to the other land,
And leave his toils behind just as they stand.
Think of Sháh Kai Khusrau, for now thou hast
To treat as new the doings of the past.
He, having slain his grandsire, passed away;
The world peruseth not his grants to-day.
This Wayside Inn doth ever treat us so;
Use thine endeavours to escape its woe.
The warfare of Gúdarz and of Pírán
Being ended, the victorious Sháh prepared
For war again, and chiefs with countless troops
Flocked from all sides; the sound of clarions
Arose. They pitched the camp upon the plain,
And set upon an elephant a throne
Of turquoise, and the world's face grew like Nile.
The Sháh sat throned and crowned, from plain and court
Shouts rose, no room was left to move on waste
Or sleep in city. When the noble Sháh,
Thus seated, dropped the ball within the cup,
And girt his loins, there was tarrying
Throughout the realm save at the great king's gate,
Such was his ordinance for all the kingdom.
Of those whom he had strictly charged, and sent
Out to the marches, with Luhrásp and Rustam,
The strong of hand, who could despoil the deep
The paladin, approven, great, and ardent,
He bade the efficient to return to court.
He oped his treasury to pay the troops,
Spake often of the spirit of his sire,
Chose envoys fluent, shrewd, and well advised,
And sent this letter in the ancient tongue
To all the chiefs and nobles: “Kai Khusrau,
The victor, seated on his elephant,
Hath dropped the ball; the land is like the Nile.
Let there be neither rest nor sleep for you,
But only vengeance on Afrásiyáb.”
When all the men of leading in the realm
Had read the letter of the Sháh a shout
Ascended from the warriors of the world,
The earth began to heave as 'twere the sea,
The chieftains out of all the provinces
Marched court-ward with their troops, and when a host
Had formed war-worthy he inspected it,
And drew it up as on the field of battle.
He chose out thirty thousand cavaliers,
Who drew the sword, among those famous troops
To occupy with him the army's centre,
And bathe their hands in blood in every fight.
He further chose three persons from the host,
Great men and prudent, having forms of brass;
The three were Rustam, that great paladin,
Gúdarz, the ancient, cunning Wolf, and Tús,
The paladin, who wore the golden boots,
And had the custody of Káwa's standard.
Were Manúshán and well advised Khúzán—
Both kings in Párs and helmed with helms of gold.
Beyond these were Árash—a Fire in fight—
And king Gúrán—the Lustre of the host—
The one the monarch of the Khúzíans,
And fortunate in battle-time, the other
King of Kirmán, impetuous in strife—
Sabbákh, the wary monarch of Yaman,
Íraj of lion-heart—an Elephant
For bulk—who was the ruler of Kábul,
A worldlord and a man both wise and holy,
Shammákh, who was the native king of Súr,
Girt for the fray, and, greater still, Káran,
The fighting-man, victorious everywhere,
The shatterer of hosts, who ruled Kháwar,
A worldlord, wary, and imperious.
All those that held descent from Kai Kubád—
Great men of understanding and high birth—
The Sháh set on his left with Diláfrúz
To marshal them. The chiefs sprung from Gúdarz,
Who plied the sword by night despite the gloom—
Bízhan, the son of Gív, and brave Ruhhám,
Both reckoned by the Sháh among the great—
Gurgín, Mílád's son, and the troops from Rai,
All marched as bidden by the Sháh. Moreover
The scions of Zarasp, who gave new lustre
To glorious Ázargashasp, kept guard
Behind the Sháh with cloud-transfixing spears.
He gave the right wing into Rustam's charge,
Where all the troops were one in heart and body,
For all those from Zábulistán—the chiefs,
And kin of Zál—he stationed on the right,
Retaining for himself the chief command.
Then for the left wing he selected troops,
Like Sol in Aries, led by Gúdarz,
The chiefs from Barda' and from Ardabíl,
When ranked before the ruler of the world,
Requested that Gúdarz might be their leader,
And drew up on the left. The monarch bade
To hold the way before the central host
With elephants of war with towers thereon;
The earth was like the Nile. Within the towers
He stationed archers valiant in the fray,
And thousands strong, and round each elephant
Three hundred horse—famed fighting-men—as guards.
The warriors from Baghdád who were with Zanga,
The son of Sháwarán, picked men of Karkh—
He ordered with their arbalists to take
Their place afoot before the elephants,
And had two miles of mountain fronted them
They would have pierced the rocks' hearts with their
arrows;
No one was able to withstand their shots.
Behind the elephants he placed the footmen
With head-transfixing spears nine cubits long.
They held in front their bucklers of Gílán:
The blood seethed in their livers. After these
Came foot in line with breastplate-piercing shafts
And shields, then warrior-horsemen with full quivers.
Out of the army of Kháwar148
the Sháh
Chose thirty thousand warriors and chiefs
Equipped with armour, shields, and Rúman helms,
And made that gallant horseman Faríburz
Their chief in consort with Tukhár, the king
Of Dahistán, who scorned all enemies,
And was by birth of noble Dashma's seed—
A family of puissance in those days.
Nastúh was at the side of Faríburz,
Supported by a crowd of warriors.
The great men and the war-experienced chiefs,
Brought from the desert of the Bedouins,
Were all commanded by Zahír, who used
To pluck gazelles away from lion's claws,
Thus piling up the left wing of the Sháh.
There was a host from Barbaristán and Rúm,
Whereof the leader hight Kishwaristán.
These, thirty thousand strong in horse and foot,
Set forward likewise to the king's left wing.
There was another host from Khurásán,
Men of ambition and experience;
Their leader and their guardian in the quest
Of fame was Minúchihr, son of Árash.
There was a man of name too of the race
Of Gurúkhán—a king and of the seed
Of Kai Kubád: his name was King Fírúz—
A chief, the lustre both of heart and host.
There was the king of Gharcha too who used
To spring on elephants as lions do.
The Sháh assigned them posts by Minúchihr,
And made the head of all their house their captain.
Moreover from Mount Káf the mighty men—
The offspring of Jamshíd and Farídún—
Advanced in all their pride with spear and mace,
Incensed against the offspring of Zádsham.
Khusrau selected thirty thousand swordsmen—
Men of ambition and of royal seed—
And gave that force to Gív, son of Gúdarz,
In whom the marches joyed. Supporting him,
With troops in single and in double file,
Was Áwa, son of Samkunán; his warriors
Were brave and wary. To the right the Sháh
Dispatched ten thousand sworders—gallant horsemen—
And to the rear of Gív, son of Gúdarz,149
Ten thousand more brave troops. The swordsman
Barta
Marched with his mountaineers amid that throng—
A noble band and gallant combatants—
In Gív's support. The Sháh sent thirty thousand
Picked cavaliers of battle to the left,
All warlike youths commanded by Zawára,
Ten thousand well equipped, and made their head
Káran the fighting man that he might urge
His steed between the embattled hosts as champion.
To Gustaham, the son of Gazhdaham,
The Sháh said: “Be Káran the fighter's comrade,”
And bade the son of Tús to make the rounds
Throughout the host with trump and kettledrum
To stay from unjust deeds the hand of him
That did not worship God, to see that none
Among the soldiers was in want of food,
And also that no person was oppressed.
He was to ask the Sháh for what was needful,
And be in all the mouthpiece of the host.
The world was full of wains and buffalos
Sent forward with provisions by the king;
His scouts were visible on every side,
He roused the heads of sleepers from their slumbers,
Appointed watchmen's stations on the mountains,
And left behind no stragglers from the army.
To every quarter he sent spies and sought
With diligence to know how matters stood.
Caves, deserts, hills, and plains on every side
Were filled with dust raised by the troops, while rein
Was linked to rein, all necks were craned for fight,
And none was either fearful or distressed;
The Sháh took treasure with him on the march.
On this wise when he had arrayed the host
He sky-ward raised his Kaian diadem,
And friend and foe alike forbore to have
A purpose save the battles of the brave.
The Turkman king reposed upon his throne
Of ivory on the further side of Jáj,
The more part were in arms, prepared for war.
Whate'er existed on that hilly march,
Upon the trees or growing on the ground,
The troops consumed it all—both fruit and leaf.
The world was bent on death. The Turkman king
Was at Baigand, surrounded by his kindred
And his allies, for all the chiefs of Chín
And of Máchín were present there. Pavilions
And camp-enclosures occupied the world;
No room remained. Afrásiyáb, that wise,
Ambitious man, was at Kunduz and there
He feasted and reposed, selecting it
Because it had been built by Farídún,
Who had erected there a Fane of Fire
With all the Zandavasta limned thereon
In gold. The name Kunduz is ancient Persian;
Thou hast may be some knowledge of that tongue,
But now the name is altered to Baigand,
So light and fickle is this age of ours!
Afrásiyáb was sprung from Farídún,
And was unwilling to desert Kunduz,
But with his meiny camped upon the plain,
Confounding with his host the heavenly sphere.
His camp-enclosure, thronged with multitudes
Of servitors, was of brocade of Chín;
The tents within it were of leopard-skin—
A usage of the Turkman king Pashang.
The royal tent contained a throne of gold
Adorned with gems and golden ornaments;
There sat the monarch of the Turkman host
With mace in hand and diadem on head.
Outside stood many standards of the chiefs,
And at the monarch's portal were the tents
Of those whom most he honoured—brethren, sons,
And others not akin. 'Twas his desire
A cavalier came swift as dust with tidings
About him, and the wounded straggled in,
Withal lamenting, dust upon their heads,
Each with his own account of injuries
Inflicted by Írán upon Túrán,
Told of Pírán, Lahhák, and Farshídward,
And of the nobles on the day of battle,
How they had fared both in the van and rear,
And how they had been worsted on the field,
How also Kai Khusrau arrived one day,
And with his host filled earth from hill to hill.
“Our troops all asked for quarter,” thus they said;
“The flock was frightened being shepherdless.”
The monarch, when he heard it, was aghast,
His face was gloomy as his heart was dark,
He came down wailing from the ivory throne,
And cast his crown down in the magnates' presence,
A wail of anguish went up from the troops,
The nobles' cheeks were wan with misery.
They cleared the place of strangers and assembled
The monarch's kin. Afrásiyáb in anguish
Wept, rent his locks, and wailed: “Ye Eyes of mine,
My noble cavalier Rúín, Húmán,
Lahhák, and Farshídward, horsemen and Lions
Upon the battle-day! no son or brother,
No chief or leader, hath survived the fight!”
He thus lamented. Then his humour changed,
He sorrowed for the soldiers, then he sware
A mighty oath and cried in grief and anguish:—
“By God, I will have none of ivory throne,
My head shall have no commerce with the crown,
My tunic shall be mail, my throne a steed,
My crown a helmet and my tree a spear.
Henceforth I wish not feast and banqueting,
Or e'en provision for the crown itself;
My swordsmen and my men of high emprise,
On base-born Kai Khusrau, and may the seed
Of Siyáwush be lacking to the world.”
While he bewailed those tidings news arrived
Of Kai Khusrau: “A host is near Jíhún,
And all the realm's face is o'erspread with troops.”
In grief and wretchedness he called his powers,
Spake of Pírán at large and of the slaying
Of Farshídward, his brother, of Rúín
And other heroes of the fight, and said:—
“Ensue not slumber and repose henceforth;
Our foes have mustered and have come sharp-clawed.
This is no time for dallying and debate,
But for revenge, for bloodshed, and a struggle
For very life. Our task is love and vengeance,
This for Pírán and that on Kai Khusrau.”
With tearful eyes the chieftains of Túrán
Replied: “We all are servants of the king,
And will not quit this vengeance while we live.
None hath borne children like Pírán, Rúín,
And Farshídward—the seed of Farídún.
We, great and small, are at the king's disposal,
And though the hills and dales become a sea
Of blood, we have our bodies' length of earth,
Not one of us will quit the battlefield
If He who is the moon's Lord aideth us.”
Thereat the Turkman monarch's heart revived;
His humour changed; he was himself again.
He oped his treasury's door, he paid his troops,
His heart all wreak, his head vainglorious,
And gave up to his soldiers all the herds
That he possessed upon the hills and plains.
Equipped for war, and sent them to patrol
Jíhún in boats that none might cross the river
By night and make a foray unopposed.
He sent his forces out on every side,
Employing much resourceful stratagem,
But 'twas the ordinance of holy God
That that unrighteous king should be destroyed.
At night he sat in conclave with the wise,
With world-experienced, prudent archimages:
They bandied earth's affairs about among them,
And settled that the king should send his host
Across Jíhún. The king, who sought a means
To counteract the mischief of the foe,
Then parted all his army into two,
And ordered Kurákhán, his eldest son,
To come to him. For valour and for state,
For mien, for looks, for prudence and for counsel,
Thou hadst declared the son to be the sire.
The monarch gave him half of that great host—
Experienced men of name and warriors—
And sent him to Bukhárá, there to be
Behind his father like a mount of flint.
The king kept on dispatching arms and men,
Provision trains ne'er ceased. He left Baigand
And hastened to Jíhún. The army lined
The bank throughout. Above a thousand boats
Were ferrying for a week until the hills
And plains were naught but warriors. The crowd
Of elephants and troops of Lions made
The passage of the stream a busy one.
Boats covered all the water and the host
Marched toward the desert of Ámwí. The king
Brought up the rear and crossed intent on war.
He sent on all sides speedy cavaliers—
Men shrewd and ardent—and commanded them:—
For some spot large enough to hold the host.”
Whenas the scouts returned from every side
They thus reported to the exalted king:
“The many troops engaged in this campaign
Will need supplies and grass and halting-places.
There is beside the river of Gílán
A route with fodder and encamping-grounds
Where men of vigilance may bring provisions
By water to the army. On the way
Are sands and ample room for pitching tents
With palace-like enclosures.”
This refreshed
His heart. He heightened on the imperial throne,
A general was he expert in war,
And went not by the words of any teacher.
He ranged the centre and the wings thereof,
The outposts to observe the enemy,
The rear, and station for the baggage-train,
He ranged the left and right. He made a camp
In royal wise, with five score thousand swordsmen
To form the centre, making that his station
Because he took the chief command himself.
Pashang, whose hands were strong as leopard's claws,
Commanded on the left, in all the host
A peerless noble, and unequalled horseman
In any land. His sire surnamed him Shída,155
For he was like bright Sol, would urge his steed,
Seize, and pluck out by force, a leopard's tail;
He wont to use an iron spear and pierce
A mountain in the fight. To him the king
Committed five score thousand troops and chiefs
For that campaign. He had a younger brother—
His glorious peer, a warrior Jahn by name,
A potent prince, his father's counsellor,
Raised by his understanding o'er the throng.
Equipped for battle—Turkmans of Chigil—
To guard the rear of Shída and not turn
Their heads away though stones rained from the
clouds.
The king chose of his grandsons one who used
To cut his collops out of lions' backs
As leader of the right wing of the host,
Which hid the sun itself in clouds of dust.
The cavaliers of Tartary, Khallukh,
And Balkh, all paladins who used the sword,
Had for their chief Afrásiyáb's fifth son—
A famous warrior eager for the fight,
One whom they used to call Gurdgír the valiant—
A man whose sword and shafts would pierce a moun-tain.
With him went thirty thousand warriors—
Men of the fray and armed with swords for battle.
Damúr and Jaranjás were his companions
In rendering support to noble Jahn.
Their leader was the veteran Nastúh,
Whose own superior was valiant Shída.
Of Turkman warriors thirty thousand men
Marched forth with maces and artillery,
Led by brave Ighríras who counted blood
As water. Next the king chose forty thousand
Whose chief was elephantine Garsíwaz—
A leader of ambition midst that folk,
The chief of nobles, and the army's stay;
The exalted king entrusted to his charge
Ten thousand men insatiate of fight,
And bade them place themselves with lips afoam
Between the lines upon the battlefield
To charge the foe dispersedly and break
The hearts and backs of the Íránians.
The rear was toward the east. At night they barred
The road with elephants. Afrásiyáb,
The world-illuming monarch, kept before
His soldiers' eyes Nímrúz as Cynosure.
Now when Khusrau heard from his watchful spies
About the Turkmans and Afrásiyáb:—
“He hath conveyed such hosts across Jíhún
That neither sands nor rocks are visible!”
He called his warriors and declared to them
What he had heard, chose from among his troops
The fittest of the mighty of Írán,
Men that had tasted this world's salts and sours,
To succour Gustaham, son of Naudar,
At Balkh, and bade Ashkash to lead to Zam
A host with treasure, elephants, and drachms
That none might take him in the rear and frustrate
The purpose of the Lions of Írán;
He ordered next his warriors to horse,
Struck up the tymbals and led on the host,
But marched with counsel, prudence, and no haste,
For that in warfare leadeth to repentance.
The Sháh, when he had reached the waste, inspected
The bearing and equipment of his men.
The army's route was toward Khárazm, where sands
And plains were fit for strife, with Dahistán
To left, the stream to right, the sands between,
Afrásiyáb in front. The Sháh in person,
With Rustam, Tús, Gúdarz, Gív, and a staff
Of noble warriors, went round the field
To view the approaches and the pathless waste;
He made his dispositions craftily,
And, having not expected such a host,
So many elephants and men of war,
He strengthened his position with a fosse,
And spread his scouts about on every side.
He filled the fosse with water when night came
Upon the side toward Afrásiyáb,
And scattered caltrops all about the plain
So that the foemen should not traverse it.
When Sol was shining out of Aries,
And gracing all the surface of the world,
The Turkman general reviewed his host,
Struck up the tymbals and arrayed his ranks.
The world was filled with din of trump and troops,
The warriors put on their iron helms.
Thou wouldst have said: “Earth's face is iron, and air
Empanoplied with spears!”
Three days and nights
The hosts abode thus and none stirred a lip.
The cavalry were mounted on both sides,
The footmen stood in front. Thou wouldst have said:—
“Earth is an iron mountain, heaven is mailed.”
Before the two kings the astrologers,
Much musing and with tables on their breasts,
Sought out the secret purposes of heaven
With astrolabes to find the favoured side,
But heaven looked on with a spectator's eye,
And left the gazers in perplexity.
Upon the fourth day when the strain was great
The valiant Shída came before his sire,
And said to him: “O famed throughout the world,
And most exalted of all potentates!
No monarch under heaven hath Grace like thine,
And neither sun nor moon opposeth thee;
An iron mount would run as 'twere a river
If it should hear the name Afrásiyáb.
Or yon resplendent sun thy casque. Of all
The kings none fronteth thee save Kai Khusrau,
Thy kinsman but a base-born miscreant.
Thou didst hold Siyáwush as son, didst bear
A father's pains and love for him, beteeming
No noxious blast from heaven to visit him.
Thou didst distaste him when assured that he
Aimed at thy crown, thy throne, and diadem,
And if the king of earth had spared his life
The crown and signet both would have been his.
The man that now hath come to fight with thee
Shall not have long of this world. Father-like
Thou didst encourage this black reprobate,
Forbearing to consign him to the dust;
Thou didst support him till he spread his wings,
Fit through thy favour for the throne of gold,
And bird-like flew Íránward from Túrán;
Thou wouldst have said: ‘He never saw his grandsire.’
Look at Pírán's own deeds of kindliness
Toward that faithless and unworthy man;
Yet he forgot Pírán's love and fullfilled
His heart with vengeance and his head with strife,
And when he caught Pírán as he desired
He put that kindly paladin to death.
Now hath he issued from Írán with troops
To make a fierce attack upon his grandsire.
He seeketh not dínárs or diadem,
Not treasures, horses, scimitars, or soldiers,
But aimeth at the lives of his own kindred,
And that is all the burden of his talk.
My father is a king, a most wise monarch,
And will bear witness that my words are true.
What need have armies for astrologers?
The brave seek honour with their scimitars.
The horsemen on the right are all for battle,
The foe no cavaliers, but pin their helmets
Upon their heads with shafts in spite of fosse
And reservoir.”
Afrásiyáb replied:—
“Be not impetuous. What thou say'st is true,
And never should one listen save to truth;
Yet, as thou know'st, the warrior Pírán
In this world trod the path of excellence;
There was no fraud or falsehood in his heart,
He sought for nothing but the good and right,
He was an elephant in strength in battle,
He had a sea-like heart and sunny face:
Húmán his brother was a warrior-leopard,
So was the brave Lahhák, so Farshídward.
A hundred thousand Turkman cavaliers,
Ambitious men accoutred for the fight,
Departed hence all seething for the fray,
Though I in secret sorrowed and bewailed.
They perished on the battlefield; the ground.
Whereon they lay was puddled with their gore.
The marches of Túrán are broken-hearted
With sorrow, all men dream of dead Pírán,
And no one speaketh of Afrásiyáb;
So let us tarry till our men of name,
Our great men of the host, our cavaliers,
Have gazed awhile upon the Íránians,
And have not hearts impassioned, grieved, and sore.
The Íránians too will see this mighty host
With all its treasures, thrones, and diadems.
It is not good for us to fight in force;
Defeat will come and we shall grasp the wind,
But warriors will I send dispersedly,
And fill the wastes with our foes' blood.”
Then Shída:—
“Sire! fight not thus. First of our warriors
Am I—a brazen-bodied cavalier—
And have seen none who in the battle-day
Could scatter wind-borne dust upon my steed.
Because he is the new king of the world,
And if he shall encounter me, as I
Doubt not, withal he shall not scape my clutch,
The Íránians shall be broken—heart and back—
And all their projects marred, while if another
Come forth I soon will lay his head in dust.”
The king replied: “O inexperienced one!
How should the king of kings encounter thee?
If he would fight I am his opposite,
'Tis mine to trample on his name and person,
And if we meet thus on the field both hosts
Will rest from strife.”
“Experienced one,” said Shída,
“Inured to this world's heat and cold! thou hast
Five sons before thee still. We will not suffer
These thoughts of fight. No worshipper of God,
Nor army even, could approve that thou
Shouldst go in person to confront Khusrau.”
Then unto Shída said Afrásiyáb:—
“Imperious son! ne'er be mishap thy lot.
Though thou wouldst fight with Kai Khusrau thyself
Take not this present matter in ill part:
Go forth and be the Maker thine ally,
And may thy foemen's heads be overturned.
Convey a message unto Kai Khusrau
For me and say: ‘The world is changed indeed!
The grandson waging war upon his grandsire
Must have a head all guile and wickedness.
Was it the Maker's aim to fill the world
With fight and feud? When Siyáwush was slain
The fault was his for heeding not advisers;
What had Rúín, Lahhák, and Farshídward,
Done that they should be bound to horses' backs,
Blood-boltered, and like maddened elephants?
Now if thou say'st: “Thou art a miscreant,
A villain of the seed of Áhriman,”
Behold thou art descended from my seed,
And castest an aspersion on thyself.
Leave fighting to Gúdarz and Kai Káús,
And let them come against me with their troops.
I have not spoken thus as fearing thee,
Or as grown recreant in mine old age.
My troops are as the sand upon the shore,
Brave warriors and Lions all prepared
At my command upon the day of battle
To make Mount Gang an ocean, O my son!
Still I am fearful of the Omnipotent,
Of bloodshed, and calamities to come,
For many an innocent and noble head
Will be dissevered on this battlefield.
If thou renouncest not this strife with me,
Good sooth, thine own disgrace will come of it;
But if thou wilt agree with me by oath,
And keep it, I will point thee out a way
Whereby thy troops and treasure may be saved:
When thou shalt have forgotten Siyáwush,
And made another Siyáwush of me,
Then Jahn and valiant Shída, who in battle
Turn Mount Gang to a sea, shall be thy brothers,
And I will bid the Turkmans to withdraw
From all tracts that thou claimest for Irán,
And such ancestral treasures as I have—
Dínárs, crowns, horses, thrones, and battle-gear,
Left to me by my father's sire Zádsham,
Crowns for grandees, thrones, coronets, and all
That thou requirest to supply thy troops—
Will I dispatch just as they are to thee.
My son shall be thy paladin, his sire
And this our fight shall issue in a feast:
But now if Áhriman shall so pervert
Thy mind that thou wilt don thy winding-sheet,
Wilt make thine only object war and bloodshed,
My good advice not rooming in thy brain,
Come forth in presence of thy host, and I
Will likewise come forth from my station here;
Let us encounter while our troops repose.
If I shall perish all the world is thine,
My soldiers are thy slaves, my sons thy kin,
While if I slay thee I will injure none
Among thy folk, thy soldiers shall have quarter,
And be my chiefs and comrades. Furthermore
If thou wilt not come forth but art unwilling
To struggle with the veteran Crocodile,
Then Shída shall oppose thee girt for fight,
So be no laggard when he challengeth.
The sire is old; his substitute is young—
A youth of prudence and of ardent soul.
He will contend with thee upon the field,
And bring a lion's heart and leopard's claws.
Then shall we see whom fortune favoureth,
And whom it crowneth with a crown of love;
While if thou willest not to fight with him,
Preferring action of another sort,
Wait that the troops may rest them for the night.
Then when the mountains don their golden crowns,
And when the dark night, drawing back its skirt,
Shall hide its head beneath a veil of hair,
Let us make choice of warriors from the host—
Men of exalted rank with massive maces—
Make earth the colour of brocade with blood,
And give our foes their bodies' length of earth.
The second day at cock-crow let us bind
The kettledrums upon the elephants,
Bring forth a reinforcement of the chiefs,
And make blood run like water down the streams.
In mass like mountains, for revenge and strife,
And find out who is loved and who rejected
By heaven above.’ If he refuse to hear
My counsel given, challenge him thyself
To single combat in some distant spot
Beyond the sight of either of our hosts.”
Then Shída chose him of the wise men four
Experienced much in this world's heat and cold,
Did reverence, and went forth. The father's heart
Was full, his eyelids overflowed with tears.
A thousand of the troops escorted Shída—
Men of discretion well equipped for fight—
And presently the Íránian scouts descried
The flag and lances of the prince of Túr.
Anon the Turkmans that were in the van—
Young cavaliers and inexperienced—
Fell on the Íránian outposts and shed blood
In Shída's absence and against his wishes.
There were some wounded on the Íránian side,
And still the conflict was continuing,
When Shída came himself upon the spot,
And saw the Íránian outpost-guards. His heart
Was sorely grieved, he called his warriors back,
And said to the Íránians: “Dispatch
A horseman in due form to Kai Khusrau
To say: ‘An ardent spirit, Shída hight,
Hath brought a message from the king of Chín—
The father of the mother of the Sháh.’”
A horseman galloped from the Íránian outpost,
Approached Khusrau in haste, and said to him:—
“An envoy from the monarch of Túrán—
A noble hero with a sable flag,
Who saith: ‘My name is Shída’—doth demand
Permission to discharge his embassage.”
The Sháh's heart filled with shame, and as he wept
Hot tears he said: “This is my mother's brother,
My peer in height and valour.”
He saw none but Káran of Káwa's race,
And said: “Go thou to Shída with good cheer,
Greet him from us and hear the embassage.”
Whenas Káran approached the company
He caught sight of the waving sable flag,
Came up to Shída and gave greeting, adding
That of the Sháh and of the Íránians.
The young man's answer was in honied tones,
For he was shrewd of heart and bright of mind,
Delivering what Afrásiyáb had said
Concerning peace and feast and war and strife,
And when Káran had heard the goodly words
He came and told the monarch of Írán,
For wisdom and that message were well paired.165
When Kai Khusrau heard this he called to mind
Old times and, laughing at his grandsire's action,
His machinations and diplomacy,
Exclaimed: “Afrásiyáb repenteth crossing
The stream, and though dry-eyed hath much to say;
But my heart is fulfilled with ancient griefs.
May be he striveth to affect my mind,
And fright me with the greatness of his host,
Unwitting that high heaven turneth not
As we desire when evil days are toward.
Mine only course is to encounter him
With vengeful heart upon the battlefield,
And, when I should be striving, dally not.”
The wise men and the captains of the host
All spake out, saying: “This must never be:
Afrásiyáb is wise and veteran,
And never dreameth but of stratagems;
He knoweth naught but sorcery, black arts,
Deceit, malignity, and wickedness.
Because he saw therein the key to loose
The bonds of bale. He challengeth the Sháh
To fight that he may fill our day with dust.
Adventure not thyself against his rage,
Or weary of Írán and of the crown.
Engage not rashly in a fight with him,
And let us not be left in grief and anguish.
If Shída now shall perish by thy hand
Their host will merely lose one man of name,
But if thou perishest in some lone spot
The darksome dust will go up from Írán,
And none among us will be left alive:
Írán will perish—city, field, and fell.
We have none other of the Kaian race
To gird himself to execute revenge.
Thy grandsire is an old experienced man
Of high repute in both Túrán and Chín,
Who offereth excuses for ill done,
And will not fight unless he be compelled;
He will, he saith, transfer the steeds, the treasure,
And drachms which Túr erst hoarded for Zádsham,
Besides the golden throne, the princes' crowns,
The golden girdles, and the massive maces,
To thee, if so he may avert this trouble.
He will abandon too all lands which thou
Lay'st claim to as belonging to Írán;
Let us withdraw glad and victorious,
Dismissing bygones from our memory.”
So spake both old and young, save famous Rustam,
Who wished revenge not peace in that he grieved
For Siyáwush. The monarch bit his lip,
And turned a troubled look toward the speakers;
Anon he said: “'Tis not for us to quit
This battlefield and march back to Írán.
Whereby we pledged ourselves to Kai Káús?
What while Afrásiyáb is on the throne
He will not cease to devastate Írán.
How can we look upon Káús, and how
Excuse ourselves before him? Ye have heard
Of what befell illustrious Íraj
From Túr all for the sake of crown and state;
And how Afrásiyáb dealt with Naudar
In murderous haste; and further how he slew
The noble Siyáwush, though innocent,
And still because of treasure, throne, and crown.
A crafty Turkman out of yonder host
Hath formally approached and challenged me
To single combat. Why are ye so pale?
I marvel at it thus affecting you
While making me still keener after vengeance.
I never thought: ‘The Íránians will unbind
The girdle of revenge.’ I have not seen
One of Írán o'erthrown so that the rest
Should be so anxious to avoid the fight
For mere words spoken by Afrásiyáb.”
The Íránians, sorry for their fault, excused
Themselves and said to him: “We are but slaves
And speak as love dictateth. High renown
Is all the object of the king of kings,
The noble outcome of his enterprises:
Let not the worldlord, the supreme, reproach us
Since no Íránian cavalier, they say,
Is able to contend against this man.
The troops are shouting on the battlefield
That none can do this brave deed save their Sháh,
Who, as the archmages' king, will not consent
That we shall be disgraced for evermore.”
That Shída on the day of battle holdeth
His father as no man. Afrásiyáb
Made armour for his son by magic arts
Perversely, darkly, and malignantly.
The arms which ye possess are not sufficient
To pierce that breastplate and that helm of steel.
The charger is of demon pedigree
With lion's action and the speed of wind.
A man that is not dowered with Grace from God
Would lose both head and feet in fighting Shída;
Besides he cometh not to fight with you,
For that would shame his Grace and birth. The
scions
Of Farídún and of Kubád are twain
As warriors, but one in heart and habit,
And I will burn his father's gloomy soul
As he burnt Kai Káús for Siyáwush.”
Those lion-horsemen of Írán 'gan call
Down blessings on their monarch, one and all.
Khusrau then bade Káran, his faithful liege,
To go back with this answer from the Sháh:—
“ ‘Our controversy hath grown long and stubborn
Till matters now have reached a pass indeed!
A man of honour and a warrior
Is not in war a laggard. I demand not
Thy treasures or the country of Túrán,
For none abideth in this Wayside Inn.
Now mark to whom the Lord of sun and moon
Shall give success upon this battlefield,
For by the Maker's might, the Omnipotent,
And by the diadem of Kai Káús,
Who cherished me, I grant you no more time
Than roses can withstand the autumnal blast.
We need not wealth acquired by tyranny
On one that hath the warm support of God.
Thy land, thy treasures, and thy host are mine,
So are thy throne, thy cities, and thy crown.
Now Shída armed, with troops, in warlike wise,
Hath come to us and challenged us to fight.
Him will I entertain at break of day,
And he shall view my sword that streweth heads.
I see none in the Íránian host to wheel
With him upon the battlefield, and therefore
'Tis plain and scimitar for me and Shída
Until I bring on him the Day of Doom.
If I shall prove the victor in the fight
I will not rest upon my victory;
We will set champions shouting on both sides,
The plain shall shine and savour with their blood;
And afterward will we lead forth our hosts
In mass, as they were mountains, unto battle.’
When thou hast spoken thus, to Shída add:—
‘O full of wisdom and aspiring chief!
Thou hast come here alone within the not,
Not come in quest of fame, or to deliver
Thy father's message, but by adverse fate:
The Worldlord hath impelled thee from the host,
And here will be thy shroud and sepulchre;
Harm will befall thee for that harmless head,
Which they struck off as though it were a sheep's;
Thy sire will weep o'er thee as bitterly
As Kai Káús is weeping for his son.’”
Káran went from the presence of the Sháh
In haste and, drawing near the sable flag,
Told all the message of Khusrau to Shída
With frankness, not concealing anything,
And he, with heart like roast before the fire,
Went to his father and reported all.
The monarch gloomed, grew sad, and heaved a sigh.
The dream which he had dreamed in days of yore,
And had preserved a secret of his own,170
He knew that his decline was close at hand.
Then Shída said: “To-morrow on this field
The ants shall find no way between the fallen.”
The monarch answered: “Take no thought, my son!
Of fight for three days hence, because my heart
Is, as thou mayst say, broken by this war;
I am in case to pluck it from my body.”
“O monarch of the Turkmans and of Chín!”
The son replied, “fret not thy heart so much,
For when bright Sol shall raise its glittering standard,
And light the visage of the violet sky,
Upon the field shall meet Khusrau and I,
And from him will I make the dark dust fly.”