Whenas the azure Veil grew bright, and when
The world was like a topaz, Shída mounted
His battle-steed. Youth's vapours filled his head
With strife. He set upon his shining breast
A breastplate and a royal helm of iron
Upon his head. A Turkman warrior bare
His standard. Shída went forth like a leopard.
Now when he drew anear the Íránian host
One of the nobles went and told the Sháh:—
“A cavalier hath come between the lines
With shouts and gestures and with sword in hand,
A noble bent on fight, who biddeth us
Inform the Sháh that Shída hath arrived.”
The monarch laughed, called for his coat of mail,
And set aloft the flag of majesty.
He put a Rúman helmet on his head,
And gave Ruhhám, son of Gúdarz, his flag,
But all his soldiers were distressed, and wept
As though they were consuming in fierce fire.
They cried: “O king! let not the iron gall
Was on the throne. May he 'gainst whom thou girdest
Thy loins for fight be laid in darksome dust,
His purposes and efforts be confounded.”
The monarch, armed with girdle, mace, and helmet,
Dispatched a message to the army thus:—
“Let no man quit his post on left or right,
Upon the centre or upon the wings;
Let none attempt to bring on fight or skirmish,
But hearken to Ruhhám, son of Gúdarz.
By noontide ye shall see which will be worsted:
If Shída then shall prove the conqueror
Look for instructions for the fight to Rustam,
Be all of you obedient to his word,
And keep in trouble near your remedy,
For troops beneath the eye of such a man
May face with calmness all the sleights of warfare.
Let not your hearts be straitened; first and last
War's wont is this—at whiles a rise or fall,
At whiles rejoicing and at whiles dismay.”
He urged his charger on—night-hued Bihzád,
Who rolled the wind before him as he sped.
Khusrau was armed with breast plate, helm, and lance,
His steed's hoofs sent the dust up to the clouds,
While Shída, seeing him between the lines,
Heaved from his breast a deep drawn chilly sigh,
And said: “Thou art the son of Siyáwush,
A man of prudence, wise, and self-controlled,
The grandson of the monarch of Túrán,
Who grazeth with his helm the orbèd moon;
But thou art not what one experienced,
A man whose food is wisdom, would expect,
For hadst thou brains thou wouldst not go about
To fight against thy mother's brother thus.
If thou desirest fight avoid the host,
And choose thy ground in some sequestered spot
Where no Íránian or Túránian
May look on us: we need no help from any.”
The Sháh replied: “O Lion ravening
Of blameless Siyáwush, whom thy king slew,
And I have come for vengeance to this plain,
Not for the sake of throne and signet-ring.
Since thou hast moved this matter with thy sire,
And challenged me of all the host to battle,
I may not send a meaner opposite.
So now do thou select a battleground
That shall be far removed from both the hosts.”
They made this compact: “None shall fight in aid
From either side, and for our standard-bearers
Day shall not darken with calamity.”
The twain departed from the hosts afar,
Like merrymakers going to a feast,
And reached a barren spot and waterless,
Untrod by lion and pard, a waste within
The marches of Khárazm and fit for fight;
The soaring eagle flew not over it;
Part was hard, arid earth and part mirage.
There those two warriors like ravening wolves
Made for themselves an ample battlefield.
The cavaliers, as lions full of rage
Leap from the covert on a hunting-day,
Wheeled with their mighty lances round and round
Till, when the shining sun had passed its height,
There were no heads remaining to their spears,
And bridle and horse-armour reeked with sweat.
They then renewed the battle vehemently
With Rúman mace and trenchant scimitar
Until the air was darkened by the dust;
Howbeit neither wearied of the combat.
When Shída saw the valour and the might
Of Kai Khusrau the tears fell on his cheeks:
He felt: “This Grace hath been bestowed by God,
And I have reason to bewail myself.”
His steed moreover was distressed by thirst;
The man's own strength was failing. In his straits
‘Come let us try a wrestling-bout afoot,
And make ourselves run down with blood and sweat,’
He will not for his honour's sake dismount;
His person as a Sháh would be disgraced;
Yet if I 'scape not by this artifice
Good sooth I am within the Dragon's breath!”
He said: “All warriors fight with sword and lance,
And wheel about, but let us fight, O Sháh!
Afoot and stretch our hands out lion-like.”
Khusrau, the ruler of the world, perceived
That which was passing in his foeman's mind,
And thought thus: “If this Lion strong of hand,
This scion of Pashang and Farídún,
Shall once be rested he will scatter heads,
And cause full many a lion-heart to wail,
While if I shall contend with him afoot
It may go hard with the Íránians.”
Then said Ruhhám: “O wearer of the crown!
Disgrace not thus thy birth. If Kai Khusrau
Must fight afoot in person to what end
Are all these cavaliers upon the field?
If any must set foot upon the ground
Let me who am descended from Kishwád,
But thou art the exalted king of earth.”
The Sháh replied: “O loving paladin
And cavalier! brave Shída will not fight
With thee, he is the grandson of Pashang,
Nor hast thou prowess to contend with him:
The Turkmans have not such another chief.
'Tis no disgrace for me to go to battle
Afoot, so let us strive like pards together.”
Upon the other side the interpreter
Said thus to Shída: “Flee the foeman's danger.
Because thou canst not stand against Khusrau.
To flee before the enemy in time
Is better than to do oneself despite.”
Then Shída: “But the voices of mankind
Will not be hushed. Since first I girt myself
I have maintained my head sun-high, but never
Beheld a warrior of such strength, such Grace,
And mastery on any field, yet still
A grave is better for me than retreat
When once I am engaged in fight; moreover,
Though we may tread upon a dragon's eyes,
We cannot 'scape the process of the heavens.
If death is to befall me by his hand
'Twill not be let by friend or enemy.
I recognise this might and manliness;
This noble warrior hath the Grace divine,
Still I may be the better man afoot,
And as we struggle make him stream with blood.”
Then spake the monarch of the world to Shída:—
“O famous offspring of a noble race!
Of all the men of Kaian seed not one
In sooth hath e'er assayed to fight afoot,
But notwithstanding if thou wishest I
Hold it a wish that I shall ne'er deny.”
The Sháh dismounted from his night-hued steed,
Removed his royal helmet and, entrusting
The noble charger to Ruhhám, advanced
As 'twere Ázargashasp. When Shída saw
From far Khusrau approaching him on foot
That warlike Crocodile dismounted likewise,
And there upon the plain the champions closed
Like elephants, and puddled earth with blood.
When Shída saw the stature of the Sháh,
The breast, the Grace divine, and mastery,
He sought some shift whereby he might escape;
Such is the purchase of a shifty heart!
In words, reached out, strong in the strength of Him
By whom the world was made—the Omnipotent—
And, as a lion putteth forth its paws
Upon an onager and flingeth it,
Clutched with left hand the neck, with right the back
Of Shída, raised him, dashed him to the ground,
And brake his legs and back-bone like a reed.
Then, drawing forth his trenchant blade, Khusrau
Clave Shída's heart in twain and, having shivered
His breastplate and thrown dust upon his helmet,
Said to Ruhhám: “This matchless miscreant,
Brave but unstable, was my mother's brother;
Entreat him kindly now that he is slain,
And fashion him a royal sepulchre;
Anoint his head with precious gums, rose-water,
And musk, his body with pure camphor; place
A golden torque about his neck, a casque
With ambergris therein upon his head.”
The interpreter of Shída looking forth
Beheld the body of the famous prince,
Which they had raised blood-boltered from the sands
To carry toward the army of Khusrau.
The interpreter drew near and cried aloud:—
“O thou illustrious and just-dealing king!
I was no more than Shída's feeble slave,
No warrior, cavalier, or paladin:
O Sháh! forgive me in thy clemency,
And may thy spirit be the joy of heaven.”
“Tell my grandfather,” thus the Sháh replied,
“Before the troops what thou hast seen me do.”
The nobles' hearts and eyes were on the road,
Awaiting Shída's coming from the field.
A cavalier sped o'er the yielding sand,
Bare-headed, weeping scalding tears of blood,
And told Afrásiyáb, who in despair
Plucked out his locks all camphor-white and scattered
And all who saw the Turkman monarch's face
Rent hearts and garments for him; such a wail
Of lamentation went up from the troops
That sun and moon were moved to pity them.
Then said Afrásiyáb in his distress:—
“Henceforth I seek not quiet or repose,
And be ye my companions in my sorrow;
Our sword's point shall not see the sheath, and I
Will ne'er know joy again. Bind we our skirts
Together,177
leave Írán no field or fell.
Account him not a man but dív or beast,
Whose heart shall not be pierced by agony;
Let shamefast tears be never in those eyes
That tears of hot blood fill not at our woe
For that moon-faced and warlike cavalier—
That Cypress-tree upon the streamlet's lip.”
Afrásiyáb wept tears of blood for grief
That leeches cannot cure. The men of name
All loosed their tongues before the king and answered:—
“May God, the just Judge, make this light for thee,
And fill thy foemen's hearts with sore dismay;
Not one of us will tarry day or night
In this our grief and our revenge for Shída,
But raise the war-cry in our soldiers' hearts,
And scatter heads upon the battlefield.
Khusrau, who hath not left an ill undone,
Now addeth feud to feud.”
The warriors
Were broken-hearted, grief possessed the king,
The field was filled with stir and clamouring.
When Sol was rising in the Sign of Taurus,
And when the lark was singing o'er the plain,
A sound of kettledrums arose in camp,
A din of tymbals and of clarions,
Equipped for war. Khusrau, beholding them,
Commanded, and Káran of Káwa's race
Led like a mountain from the central host
Ten thousand veterans, while Gustaham,
Son of Naudar, rushed with his battle-flag
Like dust-cloud to the fray; the world grew dim
With horsemen's dust, troops filled the earth and banners
The air. Khusrau was instant in the centre,
Afrásiyáb was active on the field,
Till heaven dusked and warriors' vision failed;
Then when the brave Káran had routed Jahn,
And when the moon set o'er the mountain-skirt,
The warriors came back from the field. Khusrau
Exulted over the Íránians
Because they had prevailed, yet they prepared
All night for war and neither slept nor feasted.
When Sol arose in Cancer, and the world
Was full of hostile sounds and purposes,
The armies of both realms arrayed themselves,
And every lip was foaming for the fight.
Khusrau, attended by one faithful liege,
Withdrew behind the rear, and there dismounted
To proffer much thanksgiving to the Maker.
He laid his face upon the tawny dust,
And spake thus: “O Thou justly dealing Judge!
If, as Thou know'st, I have experienced wrongs
And borne them patiently for many a day,
And be the Guide of him that was oppressed.”
Thence with grieved heart, and head full of revenge
Against the offspring of Zádsham, he came
With shoutings to the centre of the host,
And set his glorious helm upon his head.
The battle-cry arose, the din of horn,
Of brazen trumpet and of kettledrum.
The opposing forces came on mountain-like,
Troop after troop astir—a sea-like host.
Jahn and Afrásiyáb were at the centre.
As those two hosts advanced thou wouldst have said:—
“The valleys and the desert are afoot.”
The sun was darkened by the armies' dust,
While at the flashing spear-heads, eagle's plumes,
The din of trumpets, shouting warriors,
And heroes' maces on the battlefield,
The crocodile in water and the pard
On land, the iron and the rocks and mountains,
Dissolved with fear. Earth heaved and air was full
Of shouts; the ears of savage lions split;
Thou wouldst have said: “The world is Áhriman's!
'Tis naught but enemies from sleeve to skirt!”
While everywhere lay slaughtered, heap on heap,
The warriors of Irán and of Túrán.
The sands were naught but blood, heads, hands, and feet;
Earth's heart was shaken; underneath the hoofs
The fields and fells seemed linen stiff with gore.
Anon the warriors of Afrásiyáb
Advanced like ships upon the sea, attacking
The archers' towers—defensive citadels—
Borne by the elephants before the centre.
Amid a rain of arrows from the towers
There rose the clamours of the battlefield,
As spearmen and the elephants came onward
With many a warrior from the central host.
Afrásiyáb two miles away descried
That vast array and towered elephants,
And with his own huge elephants and troops
Advanced; the world grew dark, no light was left.
Why do ye cramp yourselves and crowd about
The elephants? The fight extendeth miles.
Draw from the centre and the towers, spread wide
To right and left.”
He ordered Jahn, no novice,
To quit his post with mighty men and lead
Ten thousand cavaliers and veteran,
All lancers dight for combat, toward the left,
And thither sped that lion-warrior.
When Kai Khusrau perceived that Turkman battle,
And how it hid the sun, he turned toward
His own chiefs—heroes of the fray—and bade them
Shine on the left like Sol in Aries.
They set off with ten thousand noble troops,
Mailed and with ox-head maces. Next he bade
Shammákh of Súr: “Among our men of name
Select ten thousand youthful combatants,
Unsheathe your swords between the embattled lines,
And stoop your heads upon your saddle-bows.”
The hosts so grappled that thou wouldst have said:—
“They are one mass!” From both sides rose a crash,
Blood ran down from the fight in streams; they led
The elephants with towers aside; the world
Became like Nile. When both to right and left
Dust rose, that refuge of the host—the worldlord—
Called for his armour and advanced with Rustam
With shouts and fury from the centre. Trump
And tymbal sounded. On one hand was Tús,
That wore the golden boots, all left their stations
With smarting hearts and formed the Sháh's left wing,
While battle-loving Rustam and Zawára,
His brother, set their faces toward the right.
The veteran Gúdarz, son of Kishwád,
With many noble chiefs, supported Rustam,
As did Zarasp and prudent Manúshán.
The din of war rose from the scene of strife.
None will behold a fight like that. The sand
Was strewn with killed and wounded—those whose day
Was done. Men saw not how to cross the field
For slain. The waste was as Jíhún with blood,
One man lay headless and another headlong.
The cries of horse and rider rose above
The tymbals' din. “The mountains' hearts are split,”
Thou wouldst have said, “and earth is fledged with
horsemen.”
Here heads lay trunkless, there were headless trunks,
While massive maces clashed. The sun was fain
To flee before the flash of trenchant swords
And falchions. Thou hadst said: “A murky cloud
Hath risen raining blood upon the field.”
Fartús was slain upon the Turkman left
By Faríburz, the son of Sháh Káús,
While on the right Kuhílá, who himself
Was equal to a hundred elephants,
Fell by the hand of Minúchihr. With noon
Came storm and cloud. The world-illuming sun
Was veiled, earth darkened and the eyes of men
Were troubled. As the sun began to sink
The Turkman monarch's heart was moved by terror
As cavaliers from every kingdom, march,
Domain, and principality, pressed on,
While with the various mail and diverse flags
The world was yellow, red, and violet.
When Garsíwaz behind the king saw this
A noble band—men one in soul and body—
Another to the left, and spread his chiefs
On all sides—forty thousand cavaliers,
And chosen mighty men, that drew the sword.
He hastened to Afrásiyáb who, seeing
His brother's face, took courage and advanced.
Rose war-din, air was veiled with feathered shafts.
When darkness came in rearward of the sun,
And day was almost night, false Garsíwaz,
That miscreant,182
hurried to his brother, saying:—
“Who of our warriors still desireth fight?
The earth is full of blood, the air of dust.
Withdraw the army since the night hath come,
Bestir thee, for the troops will wail anon,
And soon thou wilt be fighting while they flee!
Do not thyself such wrong.”
The king was wroth,
And would not hear a word, but urged his steed
Forth from the host; he rushed upon the field,
And slew some nobles of the Íránians.
Khusrau perceived this, went out in support,
And both kings of both realms, thus bent on battle,
Fared ill-attended by their cavaliers.
Howbeit Garsíwaz and Jahn allowed not
Afrásiyáb to challenge Kai Khusrau;
They seized their monarch's reins, turned round his
steed,
And hurried toward the desert of Ámwí.
On his withdrawal Ustukílá came
Like smoke to offer battle to the Sháh.
King Ílá too rushed forward like a leopard,
And Burzúyalá eminent in fight.
The bodies of those three were rocks of flint,
They were all fierce and ruthless warriors.
His charger, came upon them mountain-like,
Smote with his lance the valiant Ustukílá,
Unseated him and cast him on the earth.
King Ílá rushed before the line and struck
Khusrau upon the girdle with a spear,
Which failed to pierce his breastplate or affray
His glorious heart. He saw his foeman's pluck
And strength, unsheathed forthwith his trenchant sword,
And clave the spear asunder with a blow,
Which Burzúyalá seeing, and withal
The monarch's courage, might, and mastery,
Made off amid the gloom; thou wouldst have said:—
“He burst his skin.” The Turkmans, when they saw
The prowess of the Sháh, fled one and all.
As for Afrásiyáb himself, the plight,
So bare and hopeless, was as death to him,
And when the Turkman horse were ware thereof
They charged no more. When they returned in shame
Afrásiyáb commanded them to shout:—
“This lion-courage cometh of the night,
Which causeth our retreat but, though the wind
Sought thee to-day and gave a glimpse of joy,
Expect us with our banner, our heart's lustre,
When daylight cometh back; then will we turn
The surface of the desert to a sea,
And smash the bright sun into Pleiades.”
Thereat the several monarchs of these two
Contending hosts each to his camp withdrew.
When half dark night had passed, and heaven half
turned
Above the hills,183
the Turkman leader packed
His baggage, gave out helms and mail to all
On barded chargers to be outpost-guards.
He spake thus to the host: “When I have passed
The river follow me, troop after troop,
Leave day and night unreckoned.”
From Ámwí
He crossed Jíhún that night with all his host,
While all the country, road and waste alike,
Was naught but empty tents and tent-enclosures.
When dawn brake forth upon the mountain-tops
The outposts saw no soldiers on the plain,
And brought the joyful tidings to Khusrau:—
“The Sháh hath no occasion for more strife:
We see the tent-enclosures and the tents,
But not a horseman of the foe remaineth.”
Khusrau forthwith fell prostrate on the ground
While giving praises to the All Just and Holy,
And saying: “O Thou glorious and almighty,
The Worldlord, the Provider, and the Judge,
Who gavest me Grace, strength, and diadem,
And now hast blinded my foes' hearts and souls!
Oh! banish this oppressor from our world,
And burden him with terror all his years.”
Whenas the sun took up its golden shield,
And night assumed its hair of turquoise hue,
The world's lord sat upon the ivory throne,
And donned the crown that brighteneth the heart.
The army praised him: “May he live for ever,
This Sháh who is so worthy of the state.”
The soldiers lacked no booty; it was there,
Left by the army of Afrásiyáb,
But all the people said: “We have been tricked;
He hath departed with host, trump, and drum;
The famous monarch hath escaped unhurt
At night-time from the clutches of the free!”
The shrewd Sháh said: “Chiefs of the Íránian host!
'Tis good whene'er the Sháh's foe hath been slain,
And good when he retreateth in confusion.
Since God, the Arbiter, hath given us Grace,
Crown, majesty, and kingship over kings,
With benedictions offered day and night,
Because He maketh luckless whom He will,
And setteth up the worthless on the throne;
We cannot question or advise or move
Therein, for no slave can withstand His word.
Here shall I tarry for five days; the sixth
Is sacred to Urmuzd, the light of earth;
Upon the seventh we will march; the foe
Provoketh me and I desire revenge.”
Five days they searched for their Íránian slain,
And having washed the dust off gave them all,
As they deserved, a worthy burial.
Khusrau then bade a scribe to come to him,
Supplied with paper, musk, and spicery.
They wrote a letter from the battlefield,
Couched in befitting terms, to Sháh Káús.
The scribe began it with the praise of God,
Who is the Guide, and Object of all praise,
And then Khusrau dictated: “May the power
Of my great sovereign, fearful for my life
As though he were my sire, last like the hills,
And be his foes' hearts stricken. From Írán
I reached the sandy desert of Farab,
And fought three mighty battles in three nights.
The horsemen of Afrásiyáb were more
Than sages dream of. I have sent the king
Three hundred of our noblest foemen's heads—
That of the brother of Afrásiyáb,
His son, his honoured nobles, and his kin—
Together with two hundred men of name
In bonds, and each a hundred lions' match.
We fought upon the desert of Khárazm.
In that great conflict heaven blessed our efforts,
Afrásiyáb hath fled and we have crossed
The river in pursuit, and wait the issue.”
They sealed the letter with a seal of musk,
“Be blessings on this battlefield,” he cried,
“And be each year to prosperous stars allied.”
Now when Afrásiyáb had fled the field
He crossed the river like a rushing wind;
His own troops joined the troops of Kurákhán,
And told their tale. How bitterly their monarch
Wept, with those still surviving of his race,
For his illustrious son, for his great men,
His kinsmen and allies! There rose a wail
Of anguish and thou wouldst have said: “The clouds
Are drawing tears of blood from lions' eyes.”
He lingered in Bukhárá for a while,
And wished his Lions to renew the struggle.
He called to him the great and haughty chiefs
Of those who still survived but, when they came,
The advisers of the army loosed their tongues,
And said, for they were left without resource
By that campaign: “The great men of our host
Have passed away; our hearts are wounded for them.
In sooth of every hundred there survive
Not twenty! Those departed claim our tears.
Now for a while we have renounced our treasures,
Our children, and our kin, and fought beyond
Jíhún as we were bidden by the king,
And what unwisdom brought on us thou knowest,
For thou art king and we perform thy hests.
If now the monarch will be well advised
He will withdraw the army hence to Chách,
And, if suggestions may be made to him,
Cross the Gulzaryún and wait a while
As fit for recreation as for fight.”
No other plan was mooted, all agreed.
They marched to the Gulzaryún, with eyes
Wet and full hearts; there spent the Turkman king
Three days, recruiting with his hawks and cheetahs,
Thence on to Gang-bihisht where, though he had
But short repose, he thought it Paradise;
To him its soil was musk, its bricks were gold;
There he was happy, laughing in his sleep,
Thou hadst said: “Safety is his bedfellow.”
He summoned countless troops from every side,
The great men, haughty chiefs, and potentates,
While he was drinking wine among the bowers
And roses with companions, harp, and rebeck.
He sent his spies abroad to every quarter,
And revelled with his chieftains day and night,
Awaiting what time's course should bring to light.
As soon as Kai Khusrau had passed the river
He banished banqueting, repose, and sleep,
And, when he had transported all his troops
Across, he sent this proclamation forth:—
“Let no man be in terror at our coming,
But offer prayer for us to holy God.”
He gave great largess to the mendicants,
Especially to those who welcomed him.
And saw a novel world—the home of owls.
Upon that country too he lavished treasure
In eagerness for its prosperity,
And, whereso'er he halted, cavaliers
Came seeking quarter. Tidings reached Khusrau
About the doings of Afrásiyáb
And of his army: “Kákula is with him
With reinforcements like huge lions loose.
He is by race from Túr, revengeful, injured,
And seeketh all occasions for a fight.
Afrásiyáb hath sent some troops to Chách,
For he would seek the Íránian throne and crown,
And many with Tawurg toward the desert,
Where all are hostile to the Sháh, to hold
The road against the Íránians.”
Kai Khusrau
Was not perturbed, for wisdom ruled his thoughts.
The troops from Barda' and from Ardabíl
He ordered to approach by companies,
To march before him, and return the number
Of leaders, frontier-chiefs, and archimages.
They marched; their general was Gustaham,
A man who never blenched where Lions fought.
Khusrau next bade the army of Nímrúz
To march with Rustam, burner up of chiefs,
On fiery camels and to lead their chargers;
Then, changing from their camels to their steeds,
To make a joint and sudden night-attack
Upon the foe. So both these crown-adorners
Marched forth, one to the desert, one toward Chách.
The Sháh continued for a month in Sughd—
A district well affected to himself—
Gave to his troops their pay and rested them,
And sought occasion both for fight and fame.
He gathered all the warriors skilled in leaguers
To aid him and dismayed the evil-doers.
He led a host from Sughd and from Kashán;
The world was lost in wonderment at him,
And tidings reached the Turkmans: “Kai Khusrau,
The aspiring Sháh, hath come in quest of vengeance.”
Then all of them took refuge in their holds;
The world was full of bruit and turbulence.
Anon the Sháh harangued his host and said:—
“In that our task is different to-day,
As for the Turkmans who submit themselves,
And in their hearts repent of making war,
Fight not against them, and shed not their blood.
Lead none the way to evil, but if any,
Whose vengeful heart remaineth recusant,
Shall seek to strive against you with a host,
Then bloodshed, harrying, and combating
In any quarter are permitted you.”
A shout rose from the army of Írán,
And all obeyed the orders of the Sháh;
The warriors went up against the holds,
Against all holds held by ambitious chiefs,
And razed the walls. No dwelling-place was left,
No slaves or cattle, nothing good or bad.
He traversed in this way a hundred leagues,
Depopulating stronghold, hill, and plain.
He marched to the Gulzaryún, explored
The land with guides, and saw a world like gardens
In spring, the dales, wastes, hills, and earth all fair,
The mountains stocked with game, the plains with
trees—
And spies to learn whate'er was left to know.
They pitched the youthful monarch's camp-enclosure
Beside a stream. The worldlord took his seat
Upon the golden throne with his famed lieges,
And held at night a feast till day. The dead
Rose from the dust!
Upon the other side
Afrásiyáb at Gang, by day and night,
Spake with his wise, experienced, prescient nobles,
And said: “Now that the fee hath reached our couch
How is it possible to rest at Gang?”
They answered: “Since the enemy is nigh
We see no course except another battle:
It is not well to yield with such a host.”
With this they left the presence, and all night
Prepared their forces for the coming fight.
At cock-crow, when the dawn began to break
And when the tymbal's din rose from the court,
An army marched out to the waste from Gang,
And cramped the very ants and gnats for room.
Approaching the Gulzaryún the host
Made earth like Mount Bístún. The army marched
Three days and nights. The world was full of turmoil
And din of war. The column stretched seven leagues,
And soldiers were more plentiful than ants
Or locusts. On the fourth day they drew up
In line. From stream to sun the flash of arms
Ascended. Jahn, son of Afrásiyáb,
Whose spears o'ershot the sun, was on the right.
Afrásiyáb took station at the centre
With chieftains, sages, and proud cavaliers.
Kubard, the lion-warrior, held the left
With cavaliers brave and experienced.
To guard the army from the enemy.
Full in the centre on the other side
Khusrau supported like a hill his host.
With him were Tús, son of Naudar, Gúdarz,
And Manúshán, high born Khúzán, Gurgín,
Son of Mílád, the lion Gustaham,
Hajír and brave Shídúsh. Upon the right
Was Faríburz, son of Káús. The troops
Were one in soul and body. On the left
Was Minúchihr, who held his own in battle.
Gív, offspring of Gúdarz, the guard and stay
Of every march, was in the rear. The plain
Became a sea, the earth an iron hill
Of horseshoe-nails, the hoofs were tulip-hued.
A cloud of black dust gathered overhead,
The hearts of flints split at the tymbals' din,
Earth heaved like murky clouds; thou wouldst have
said:—
“It will not bear the hosts!” The air resembled
An ebon robe, the drumming frayed the stars.
The field was naught but heads, brains, hands, and
feet:
Good sooth, no room remained. The chargers trampled
On lifeless heads and all the waste was filled
With trunkless heads and hands and feet. The wise
Were not in evidence and both hosts owned:—
“If on this field of anguish and revenge
The troops continue thus a further while
No horsemen will survive, and in good sooth
The sky itself will fall!” At all the crashing
Of ax on helmet souls farewelled their bodies.
When Kai Khusrau observed the battle's stress,
The world grown straitened to his heart, he went
Apart and prayed to God to do him right:—
“O Thou beyond the ken of saints,” he said,
“The Lord of this world and the King of kings!
And tried like iron in the crucible,
I would not ask to be victorious,
Or urge my cause upon the righteous Judge.”
He spake and laid his face upon the ground;
His bitter lamentations filled the world.
At once there came a furious blast, which snapped
The green boughs, from the battlefield raised dust
And blew it in the Turkmans' eyes and faces.
Afrásiyáb, apprised that any one
Had turned his back on fight, beheaded him,
And made the dust and sand his winding-sheet.
Thus was it till the heaven and earth grew dark,
And many Turkmans had been taken captive.
Night came and donned its musk-black garniture,
Preventing fight. Then both the kings recalled
Their hosts, for heaven and earth alike were dark.
The mountain-skirt down to the river-bank
Was naught but troops in breastplate, mail, and helm,
Who set the watch-fires blazing round about,
While outpost-guards went forth on every side.
Afrásiyáb took order for the fight,
But tarried till the fountain of the sun
Should rise, light up the faces of the hills,
And make earth like a ring of Badakhshán;192
Then would he bring his noblest cavaliers
To strive for glory on the battlefield;
Howbeit God appointed differently,
And everything must yield to His decree.
When night was dark, dark as a negro's face,
One sent by Gustaham, son of Naudar,
Came to Khusrau and said: “Long live the Sháh!
We have returned in triumph joyfully.
We made an unexpected night-assault
Not one of them had wit enough for that.
As soon as they were roused from sleep they drew
Their massive maces and their scimitars,
And when the day dawned none but Kurákhán
With certain of the soldiery was left.
The field is covered with their headless trunks,
Earth is their couch and dust their coverlet.”
A cameleer moreover with good news
Of Rustam came about the dawn, and said:—
“We gat intelligence upon the waste,
And thereupon we hasted. Rustam held
Upon his way alike by day and night,
Insisting on the march with all dispatch.
We reached the place by daylight as the sun,
The lustre of the world, rose in the sky;
Then matchless Rustam strung his bow and set,
When he was near, the helmet on his head,
And all the plain or ever he had thumbed
A shaft was freed from Turkman combating.
Now he hath marched for vengeance to Túrán,
And tidings verily will reach the Sháh.”
A shout of joy ascended from the host,
Whereat the Turkman leader pricked his ears,
And called his faithful followers to horse.
A cavalier moreover came in haste,
With lamentation to Afrásiyáb,
And said thus: “Kurákhán hath left our troops,
And now is nigh at hand with sixty men;
There is a host too marching on Túrán,
Exhausting all the water in the streams.”
The monarch thus addressed his counsellors:
“A fearful struggle now confronteth us;
If Rustam layeth hand upon our throne
We shall be lost indeed! But at this present
He thinketh that we have not heard of him,
And are in grievous travail with Khusrau,
So let us fall like fire on him by night,
And make the plain as 'twere Jíhún with blood.”
Agreed thereto. The monarch left his baggage,
And led his army from the plain like fire.
Anon an outpost from the waste reported
That heaven was gloomy with the dust of troops;
He saw that all the Turkmans had withdrawn,
And brought these tidings to the king of men:—
“The plain is full enough of huts and tents,
But there is not a Turkman left inside.”
Khusrau knew why the prince of Chín had gone
Precipitately from the battlefield,
That he had tidings as to Gustaham,
And Rustam, and that that had made him speed.
Khusrau sent off in haste to say to Rustam:—
“Afrásiyáb hath turned away from us,
And surely hasteth to contend with thee.
Array the host and be upon thy guard,
Keep to thy shaft and quiver night and day.”
The monarch's messenger was one who skilled
To cross that pathless tract. Arrived he found
The lion-hearted Rustam girt for fight,
The troops with maces shouldered and their ears
All strained; he thereupon declared to Rustam
The message purposed to secure his safety.
Revengeful Kai Khusrau upon his side
Abode in quiet free from bruit of war,
He gave his soldiers all the Turkmans' tents,
Enclosures, thrones, and crowns. He sought the
slain
Íránians, washed away the blood and mire,
And gave them sepulture befitting princes.
Then, passing from the dust and blood of battle,
He packed the baggage, called the troops to horse,
And with all speed pursued the Turkman king.
Whenas Afrásiyáb was near the city195
He thought thus: “Rustam hath had sleep enough,
I will surprise him in a night-attack,
And make the dust fly from his soldiers' hearts.”
But in the gloom he noticed outpost-guards,
Heard how the chargers neighed upon the plain,
Reflecting that his troops had been defeated,
And had to struggle for dear life; that Rustam,
The deft of hand, was in the front, the Sháh
Behind with all his warlike cavaliers.
Afrásiyáb called any that were near,
Discoursed at large in his anxiety,
And questioned them: “What seemeth good to
you?”
A chief replied: “The treasure of the king
Is all at Gang-bihisht. What profiteth
A toilsome march like this? Gang is eight leagues
In length and four in breadth; men, women, children,
And troops are there; thou wilt have wealth, the foe
Will still toil on. No eagles soar above
Its battlements, none dreameth of such heights!
There are provisions, palace, treasure, crown,
And majesty, command, and throne and host.
The country round about is called Bihisht,195a
Where all is pleasure, peace, and happiness.
On all sides there are fountain-heads and pools
An arrow's carry in their length and breadth;
And sages have been brought from Hind and Rúm
To make that fertile land a paradise,
While from the battlements the eye beholdeth
All that is on the plain for twenty leagues.
Is fighting all thy business in this world,
Where every man is but a sojourner?”
Whenas Afrásiyáb had heard these words
They pleased him and, relying on his fortune,
He entered Gang-bihisht exultingly
With all his arms and implements of war.
He went about the city and beheld
Not e'en a hand-breadth of waste ground therein;
There was a palace lifted to the sky,
Built by himself—a king whose word was law.
Alighting there he held an audience,
And gave out money for his soldiers' pay.
And put each quarter in a chieftain's charge,
While sentinels all round the battlements
Held watch and ward alike by day and night.
The king, upon whose right hand were installed
Both priests and nobles, bade a scribe be called.
They wrote to the Faghfúr of Chín a letter,
And, after paying countless compliments,
Thus said Afrásiyáb: “Revolving time
Affordeth naught to me excepting war.
Him whom I should have slain I tendered dearly,
And now through him my life is one of hardship.
If the Faghfúr of Chín would come himself
'Twere well, my soul is protestant of friendship;
But if he cannot still let him dispatch
A host to march with us against the foe.”
The messenger arrived in Chín by night;
The great Faghfúr received him graciously,
And ?? for him a pleasant residence.
Afrásiyáb for his own part at Gang
Abandoned quiet, banqueting, and sleep,
Arranged his catapults upon the walls,
And fitted up the towers to stand a siege.
He bade magicians197
bring up mighty stones
Upon the walls, he summoned many experts
From Rúm, and stationed troops upon the ramparts.
A prelate shrewd of heart197a
set up thereon
Ballistas, catapults, and arbalists,
And shields of wolf-hide. All the towers were filled
With coats of mail and helms. He kept a troop
Of smiths at work to fashion claws of steel
On every side and bind them to long spears
To grapple any that adventured nigh,
Or, if not that, to make him shun the hold.
His troops their pay and well entreated them.
He gave moreover helms and scimitars,
Mail for the chargers, shields from Chín, with bows
And arrows to his men past reckoning,
Especially to all the warriors;
When that was done he and his faithful lords
Reposed. A hundred harpers fair of face
Met daily in his halls to make him mirth,
And day and night while holding festival
He called for native Turkman songs and wine.
Each day he threw a treasure to the winds,
And recked not of the morrow. So away,
Since fate is fixed, with sadness and be gay!
He lived two sennights thus exempt from sorrow,
But who can tell who will rejoice to-morrow?
Three sennights passed, Khusrau arrived at Gang,
And, listening to the sound of flute and harp,
Laughed and went round the circuit of the hold,
Astonied at the inconstancy of fortune.
He was amazed at seeing such a place—
A heart-alluring heaven—standing there,
And said: “The builder of these walls built not
As one expectant of calamity,
Yet now the murderer of Siyáwush
Hath fled for refuge to these walls from us!”
He said to Rustam: “Mark, O paladin!
Discerningly the bounties and the triumphs
In fight accorded us by God, the Worldlord!
This wicked man pre-eminent in ill,
Rage, folly, and deceit, hath made this hold
His refuge, here obtained a rest from fortune,
And, worst of villains, groweth worse with age.
I must not sleep all night; success and power
Both come from Him who fashioned sun and moon.”
There was a mountain on one side the city,
Preventing all attack, upon another
A river ran, one to rejoice man's soul.
They pitched the camp-enclosure on the plain,
The paladins took station round the hold.
The host extended over seven leagues,
And earth saluted the Íránians.
The camp-enclosure on the right was Rustam's,
Who asked the Sháh for troops, while Faríburz,
Son of Káús, and Tús, with trumpets, drums,
And heart-illuming standard, marched and pitched
Upon the left, and, thirdly, Gív took station.
Night came; from every quarter shouts arose;
Earth was all strife and stir, its heart unseated
By din of trumpet, kettledrum, and fife.
Whenas the sun had cleared the sky of rust,
And rent in twain heaven's sable stole, the Sháh
Went round the host upon his night-hued steed,
And spake to elephantine Rustam thus:—
“O thou illustrious leader of the host!
Afrásiyáb, I hope, will have no longer
The world to look on even in his dreams,
But whether I shall take him dead or living
He shall behold the sword-point of God's slave.
Methinketh that a host will come to him
From every side, so mighty is his sway;
They fear him and will succour him through fear,
Not of their own wills and for vengeance-sake;
So ere he call up forces let us seize
The roads, moreover raze the castle-ramparts,
And sink their dust and stones in yonder river.
The day of stress is over for the troops,
A day of ease succeedeth one of toil;
No army feareth vengeance or attack
From foes withdrawn for shelter to their walls.
Heart-broken, shall become a brake of thorns.
As we recall the words of Kai Káús
We are reminded of our righteous cause,
He said: ‘Time shall not clothe in rust and dust
The boughs and trunk of this revenge of ours.
'Twill be an evergreen, and not a heart
Will shrink from dying in this royal feud,
But sire to son for three score centuries
Will hand it on and, when the sire shall pass,
The feud shall stay, the son take up the woe.’”
The mighty men called praises down on him,
They hailed him as the monarch of pure Faith,
And said: “Thou shalt avenge thy father thus;
Be ever happy and victorious.”
The next day when the sun rose o'er the hills,
And set its golden lantern in the sky,
There went up from the hold a mighty shout,
Which caused Khusrau to ponder. Thereupon
The portal of the hold was opened wide,
And then the mystery was unveiled, for Jahn
Came with ten cavaliers, all men of wisdom,
Estate, and knowledge, to the royal entry,
And there alighted with the other nobles.
The chamberlain went in before the Sháh,
And said: “'Tis Jahn with ten more cavaliers.”
The king of kings sat on the ivory throne,
And donned the crown that gladdeneth the heart,
While Manúshán, the warrior, went forth,
And brought wise Jahn to audience. At his coming
The face of Kai Khusrau was tear-bedimmed.
The valiant Jahn, lost in astonishment,
Removed his royal helm and drawing nigh
Be goodness aye thy partner through the world,
Be prosperous in our land, and may the hearts
And eyes of all thy foes be rooted out.
Live ever happily and serving God,
Thou that erst stretched thy hands upon our soil!
Blest was thy sojourn, happy is thy coming,
Kind hath been all thine intercourse with us.
I bring a message from Afrásiyáb,
Provided that the Sháh will bear with me.”
Thereat Khusrau bade bring a golden stool.
They set it 'neath that prudent man who took
His seat, recalled the message of his sire,
And thus addressed the Sháh: “Afrásiyáb
Is sitting with his eyes fulfilled with tears.
I first convey this greeting to the Sháh,
Sent by the heart-seared monarch of Túrán:—
‘Praise be to God, our Refuge, that a son
Of ours should have attained such eminence.
The Sháh upon the father's side is sprung
From Kai Kubád, upon the mother's side
From Túr: thy head is higher than earth's kings
Because thou comest of this noble stock.
The swiftly flying eagles in the clouds,
And in the streams the lusty crocodiles,
Are guardians of thy throne, and in thy fortune
The beasts rejoice; earth's great men with their crowns
And coronets are thine inferiors.
I marvel that the curst Dív never willeth
Me aught but harm. Why went my heart astray
From sense of right and loving-kindliness
So that my hand slew noble Siyáwush,
The son of Kai Káús, and for no fault?
In anguish taking neither sleep nor food.
I slew him not; it was the wicked Dív,
Who ravished from my heart the fear of God;
His time had come and that was mine excuse,
I was illuded. Both a sage and king
Art thou, approving men of holiness;
Mark then how many cities and how great,
With gardens, spaces, halls, and palaces,
Have been destroyed in vengeance and the plea
Hath been Afrásiyáb and Siyáwush!
Mark too the fights of cavaliers, as huge
As elephants and strong as crocodiles,
Whose heads are trunkless and whose only shrouds
Are lions' maws; the desert hath no hostel
Remaining, every city here is ruined.
Till Doom's Day nothing will be told of us
Save that we fought with trenchant scimitars,
The Maker of the world will be displeased,
And we shall writhe in anguish at the last.
If thou seek'st fight thy heart assuredly
Will never have a moment's peace from feuds.
Observe time's changes and no other teacher,
For though thy heart be full, thy head all vengeance,
We have the hold while thou art on the plain.
I speak of Gang; it is my paradise,
Its seed-time and its harvest are mine own;
Here are my hoards, my host, my crown, and signet;
It is a place for sowing and for feasting,
A place for Lions on the day of battle.
The summer-warmth is past, the rose and tulip
No longer bloom, cold, wintry days confront us
When hands are frozen to the hafts of spears.
Well know I how the clouds will lour above,
And rivers be firm ground. From every side
Troops at my call will come; thou canst not strive
That time will render unto thee the fruits
Of war, then heaven will belie thy thoughts,
And others eat the produce of thy toils.
If now thou sayest: “I will take the Turkmans
Of Chín, will dash the heaven upon the earth
And pierce this people with the scimitar,”
Shall I become a captive in thy hands?
Presume it not, for this shall never be;
None will erase a man indelible.
The grandson am I of Zádsham the king,
Descended from Jamshíd and Farídún,
My knowledge and my Grace are both from God,
And I possess a pinion like Surúsh.
When destiny oppresseth me my heart
Requireth not a ?? I will go
At slumber-time, as God commandeth me,
Like stars before the sun, cross the Kímák,
And yield thee realm and crown. Then shall Gang-dizh
Be thine abode, both land and troops shall lose me;
But when the day of vengeance shall arrive
I will array, hoar-headed as I am,
This host, will come to execute revenge
On thee, and everywhere restore my Faith;
But if thou wilt put vengeance from thy thoughts,
And charm the realm with loving-kindliness,
I will unlock my hoard of girdles, crowns,
Gold, jewels, and dínárs—whatever Túr,
The son of Farídún, took from Íraj.
Them take and never think again of vengeance.
If thou wilt have Chín and Machín, 'tis well,
Seize all according to thy heart's desire.
Before thee are Makrán and Khurásán;
Take less or more and I am satisfied.
By that same route which Kai Káús hath traversed
I will dispatch thee what thou wilt of troops,
I will enrich thy whole host and bestow
On thee the golden throne and diadem.
And hail thee king in presence of all folk.
Say what thou wouldest have—all thy desire—
And by the past and future judge thine end;
But if thou shalt reject this rede of mine,
And wilt wage war upon thy mother's father,
Array thy host as soon as Jahn hath gone,
Fit as a pard am I for fighting on.’”
At this the Sháh looked smilingly on Jahn,
And answered him: “O thou that seekest fame!
We have heard all thy words from end to end.
First for the blessing that thou gavest me,
So be it on my signet, crown, and throne;
Then for the greeting of Afrásiyáb,
Whose eyes by thine account are full of tears,
Let that too be upon my throne and crown:
May they be happy and victorious.
And further that thou gavest praise to God
Is pleasing to the Sháh, His worshipper—
The happiest of the monarchs of the earth,
The most approven, glad, and conquering.
God hath bestowed on me what thou hast said;
May wisdom still accompany each grace.
Fair words are thine at will; but thou art not
Pure-hearted or a worshipper of God,
For wise men's deeds are better than their words.
The glorious Farídún did not become
A star; his head is in the dark earth still,
Yet say'st thou: ‘I am higher than the sky.’
In such wise hast thou purged thy face from shame.
Thy heart is given up to sorceries,
And words are but a trinket on thy tongue.
A glozing tongue and lying heart reflect
No lustre on a sage; so never call
My murdered father monarch of the world
Now that the bones of Siyáwush have perished.
My mother to the street, thou hadst become
So full of vengeance, and didst kindle fire
Upon my head while I was yet unborn,
And everybody present at thy court
Cried shame upon that wayward soul of thine,
For no one of the kings, the warriors,
And mighty men e'er did such deeds as haling
A woman out before the folk, consigning
A great dame to the executioners,
A daughter to be scourged until she cast
Her babe. The wise Pírán, when he arrived,
Beheld what he had never seen or heard
Before. It was God's ordinance that I
Should be exalted over all the folk;
He saved me from thy bale and mischief, fate
Had secrets for me; soon as I was born
Thou didst commit me to the shepherds' charge
As 'twere a worthless brat, a meal for lions.
So fared I while the days passed o'er my head
Until Pírán conveyed me from the waste,
And brought me to thy presence; I was fit,
As thou didst see, for throne and crown, and thou
Wouldst have beheaded me like Siyáwush,
And left my body naked of a shroud,
Had not all-holy God restrained my lips,
And left me standing dazed before the court.
Thou thoughtest that I had not heart or wit,
And didst not execute thy foul design.
Reflect on Siyáwush and his just acts;
What was the evil that thou sawest in him?
Thou wast his chosen refuge in the world;
He acted as befitteth men of name;
He came, for thee resigning throne and crown,
And hailed thee only in the world as king,
Put trust in thee and quitted his own folk
Lest thou shouldst say that he had broken faith;
His greatness, might, and mien, thine evil nature
Was roused, thou didst o'erthrow that holy man,
And like a sheep behead a prince so dear!
Thou from the time of Minúchihr till now
Hast been but miscreant and malevolent.
Our troubles had their origin with Túr,
Who bathed his hands in ill against his sire,
And so it goeth on from son to son
Against all kingly usage, law, and Faith.
Thou didst strike off the head of king Naudar,
A man of royal birth and lineage,
And slay thy brother, righteous Ighríras,
Who lived for honour; thou hast ever been
A villain, vile, and led by Áhriman.
Thy crimes, if one should count them, would surpass
The revolutions of the sky in number.
Thou hast sent down thy roots to Hell, and thou
Wilt not declare thyself of human birth.
‘The loathly Dív,’ thou hast gone on to urge,
‘Inclined toward Hell my heart and ways.’ Záhhák
Put forth, so did Jamshíd, that very plea,
In moments of despair, and said: ‘Iblís
Misled our hearts and severed us from good.’
'Twas their ill nature and their teacher's promptings
That gave them no surcease of evil fortune,
For when one is averse from what is right
Then fraud and falsehood ruin everything.
Moreover at the battle of Pashan
How many troops were slaughtered by Pírán!
The blood of those descended from Gúdarz
Turned earth to mire and loss was piled on loss;
E'en now thou didst come forth with myriads
Of Turkman cavaliers in war-array,
And Shída came forth as mine opposite;
Thou sentest him that so he might behead me,
And thou thereafter mightst lay waste my realm,
But God, the Lord of earth, was mine ally,
The fortunes of my foes were overthrown.
And now thou say'st: ‘Thy throne illumineth
My heart, thy fortunes make me glad.’ Consider;
Can I recall thine acts and think it true?
Henceforth till Doomsday I have naught to say
To thee save with the trenchant scimitar,
And I will strive against thee in the strength
Of treasure, host, fair fortune, and the courses
Of sun and moon, will make my prayer to God,
And ask no guide but Him. The world perchance
May then be purged from evil men while I
Will gird myself with justice and with bounty;
With them will I regenerate the world,
And haply clear the garden of ill weeds.
Tell to my grandsire all my words and seek
No pretext to avoid so great a strife.”
He gave to Jahn a crown of emeralds,
A pair of earrings, and a golden torque,
Who thereupon departed to his sire,
And told him everything. Afrásiyáb
Raged at that answer; grief and haste possessed him;
He gave the troops a largess from his hoards,
And furnished maces, helmets, casques, and swords.
All night until the sun rose in the sky,
And made the mountains like white elephants' backs,
Afrásiyáb was ordering the host:
What Turkman cavalier took any sleep?
Whenas the din of tymbals rose from Gang,
While earth grew iron, heaven ebony,
Bestrode his steed at dawn, rode round the hold,
And noted places open to attack.
He ordered Rustam to assail one side
With forces like a mountain, Gustaham,
Son of Naudar, to occupy another,
And wise Gúdarz the third, while he himself,
Who prospered everywhere, attacked the fourth
With tymbals, elephants, and cavalry;
Thus he disposed his forces and, resuming
His seat upon the throne, required the troops
To excavate entrenchments round the fortress.
Then all who had experience in sieges
From Rúm, from Chín, and Hind, with veteran chiefs
From every quarter, rode around the place,
Like couriers, devising plans to take it.
The monarch made a trench two spears in depth,
And stationed guards that none might make a sally
By night and slay his troops ere they could draw.
Around were ranged two hundred arbalists,
And, when a foe's head showed above the ramparts,
Those engines showered like hail thereon; behind
Were Rúman troops engaged in working them.
The Sháh then bade that elephants should draw
Shores to the hold. He undermined the walls
And shored them up; upon the wooden props
He smeared black naphtha, such was his device,
When all had been prepared the king of earth
Drew near the Maker of the world in prayer,
Writhed in his quest of vengeance like a serpent
Upon the dust, and praised the Almighty, saying:—
“Thine is it to abase and to exalt;
In every strait we look to Thee for succour.
If Thou perceivest that my cause is just
Make not my foot to slip, hurl from the throne
This sorcerer-king, and give me joy and fortune.”
When he had prayed he raised his head, arrayed
His shining breast in armour, girt his loins,
Sprang up, and rushed as swift as smoke to battle,
Commanding onslaught on each gate in force.
They set the wood and naphtha all ablaze,
And hurled stones on the heads of the besieged.
Then twanged the arbalists while in the smoke
The sun's bright visage gloomed, the scorpions,
The catapults, and flying dust turned heaven
To azure dimness, earth to indigo.
Chiefs shouted, trumpeted the elephants,
Flashed swords and massive maces. From the showers
Of arrows and troops' dust thou wouldst have said:—
“The sun and moon contend!” The world was hidden
To clearest eyes so viewless grew the sky!
And burned like firewood, for God willed it so.
The walls, thou wouldst have said, came headlong down
From their foundations like a mount in motion.
With them fell many a Turkman, like a lion,
Surrendered to ill fortune, when its head
All unawares is taken in the toils.
The Íránians' war-cry rose victoriously;
They made with warlike Rustam for the breach.
Afrásiyáb, on hearing that the ramparts
Were shattered, rushed to Jahn and Garsíwaz,
Like dust, and shouted: “What are walls to you?
The army's hold must be the scimitar.
Now for your country and your children's sake,
For treasure and for kin, bind ye your skirts
Together,209
leave no foeman anywhere.”
Then mountain-like the Turkman troops advanced
In rank toward the breach; they closed like lions,
And both sides raised a shout, but in the strife
The Turkman horsemen shook like willow-trees,
And gave up land and country in despair.
The Sháh bade Rustam bring up to the breach
The spear-armed footmen followed by two bands
Of archers eager for the fray on foot,
And armed moreover both with sword and shield,
With mounted warriors as their support
Where'er the stress of battle proved severe.
The horsemen and the footmen on both sides
Came onward like a mountain to the fight,
And warlike Rustam, like a mighty lion,
Led forward all his forces to the breach.
Struck the black flag and set up on the rampart
The ensign of the Sháh, the violet ensign
Charged with a lion, while the Íránians
Hailed with a shout the triumph of Khusrau.
A multitude of Turkman troops were slain,
The fortunes of the foe were overthrown,
And Rustam at the crisis of the fight
Gat in his grasp brave Jahn and Garsíwaz,
Those two supporters of the Turkman throne,
The glorious son and brother of the king,
Such was the evil fate that fell on them!
The Íránian troops on entering the city—
An army full of vengeance and heart-seared—
Gave up themselves to pillaging and slaughter,
While shrieks arose and lamentable cries;
The women and the children wailed aloud,
And left their dwellings to the conquerors.
What multitudes of women and of babes
Were lost beneath the feet of elephants!
The people fled like wind and none took thought
Of country more. In woeful plight all eyes
Wept blood. The Turkman warriors' fortunes fell.
The treasuries were given up to spoil,
The women and the children captive borne,
Their souls by heaven, their flesh by arrows, torn!
Afrásiyáb departed to his palace,
With full heart, weeping; having gained the roofs
He looked upon the city. There he saw
The more part of his warriors slain, the rest
Withdrawing from the battle. There arose
Cries from the cavaliers, shouts from the leaders,
Din from the drummers on the elephants,
Which trod from sight all that they saw alive.
And all was conflagration, sack, and storm.
One side rejoiced, the other was in woe,
And in this Wayside Inn 'tis ever so.
Afrásiyáb, beholding matters thus,
Such terror and defeat, no Jahn, no brother,
No land, no throne, no realm, no gems, no treasure,
Cried out in very earnest, seared and sore:—
“How wantonly heaven's vault hath dealt with us!
Mine eyes have looked upon a day when death
And slaughter seemed to me of small account!”
He came down woeful from the palace-roof,
Farewelled his throne of sovereignty, and said:—
“When shall I ever look on thee again
Upon a day of pleasure, ease, and joy?”
He thence departed dazed, and disappeared;
His wits and counsel flew away like birds.
Now when he built the palace in the hold
He made a secret passage underground,
And not a soldier of the army wotted
That there was such a by-way underneath
The castle. He made choice of ten score chiefs,
And vanished by that secret souterrain.
Emerging he betook him to the waste,
While all his kingdom wondered after him,
None knowing where he was because he vanished
So suddenly. Khusrau approached the palace,
Trod down his foe's star, and assumed the throne
Amid the paladins with golden helms.
They made abundant quest, but failed to trace
That chief of nobles; then the Sháh inquired
Of Jahn and Garsíwaz about their king:—
“How did he go and whither hath he gone?
He vanished hence; where hath he taken shelter?”
They answered fully and Khusrau gave ear,
But not a trace showed of Afrásiyáb.
“Now that my foe hath vanished from the throne
His name and purpose matter not a jot;
'Tis one to us be he alive or not.”
Khusrau then chose out sages from the host—
Chiefs veteran and practised in affairs—
And said thus: “Hail! May ye be filled with justice.
The portal of this ill-starred Turkman's hoards
Intrust I unto you. Be diligent.
The sun from yon high heaven must not pierce
The palace of Afrásiyáb, nor would I
That thence his women's voices reach the street.”
He sent out keepers for the herds that were
At large about the hold and, being kingly,
Harmed not the kindred of Afrásiyáb.
The troops marked this and clamoured: “Kai Khusrau
Hath entered in such wise that thou wouldst say:—
‘'Tis to the portal of a host!’ No thought
Of sire beheaded by the sword unjustly,
Of mother haled down naked by the hair
From throne and high place by Afrásiyáb,
Occurreth to his mind! This harmless Sháh
Was shepherd-reared and suckled by a sheep.
Why doth he not in sharp-clawed leopards' wise
Awake the Day of Doom in this man's home,
Bring to the ground his halls and palaces,
And make a bonfire of his kith and kin?”
The Sháh, apprised of all the Íránians' words,
Sent and convoked the sages, spake at large,
And said to them: “We must display not harshness,
Or praise heads void of wits. We must be just
In vengeance, and in passion think of fame,
Since life continueth not, and this same sky
Which turneth over us may play the tyrant.”
He ordered: “Bring the women forth unseen,
Those that are royal, have been always veiled,
And never left the bower for the street.”
Now when the Íránians were ware of this
They hurried full of vengeance to the palace.
The warriors thought: “Khusrau will slay these
women,”
So wished to bear them off with ignominy,
And were prepared to pillage and to slaughter.
Then from the palace rose this wail: “Thou knowest,
Most just, wise Sháh! that we are powerless,
And no fit objects of contempt and insult.”
The chiefest of the ladies with her daughters,
Came wailing to the Sháh; each daughter had
A hundred slaves with ruby crowns before her,
Their jewelry was like the shining sun;
The raiment that they wore was cloth of gold.
All carried golden goblets in their hands,
Their hearts were awe-struck at the king of kings;
The dames were all musk, rubies, gold, and gems,
And hung their heads down in their shamefastness;
They carried cups and censers, and the fuel
Was ambergris and undried aloe-wood.
Thou hadst said: “Saturn out of highest heaven
Is showering constellations on the earth.”
The chiefest lady drew anear the throne,
Invoking fervent blessings on the Sháh,
While all her delicately nurtured daughters
In like wise offered up their supplications.
Oh! pity those fall'n in their day of stress
From all self-pleasing and luxuriousness!
“O man of royal birth and blesséd steps!
How well it were had not thy heart been grieved
And vengeful with Túrán! Then thou hadst come
To feast and mirth, the accredited of kings;
Thou hadst been lord and master of this land,
And crossed thy feet upon the royal throne;
Then Siyáwush would never have been slain
In wantonness, but sun and moon decreed it,
And base Afrásiyáb hath acted so
That he will never dream of thy forgiveness.
I gave him counsels but without avail;
He rashly turned his head from mine advice.
I call upon my Maker to bear witness
That blood hath fallen in showers from mine eyes,
While here upon the earth thy kinsman Jahn,
Galled by thy fetters, will bear testimony
How in my palace both my heart and soul
Were full of grief because of Siyáwush,
And that Afrásiyáb, thine enemy,
Heard much advice, but nothing profited,
Until his days have ended as we see,
All his dominions being overthrown,
His crown and girdle given up to spoil,
His day obscured, himself flung headlong down.
His present life is even worse than death,
And fate hath burst the skin upon his body.
Now look on us as being innocent,
And treat us with a kingly clemency.
We are dependent wholly on Khusrau,
And hear no name but his. So let him not,
For wrongs done by Afrásiyáb the warlock,
Act hastily to those, who did no wrong,
With bloodshed, outrage, and indignity,
Or lightly persecute those not in fault;
Unworthy 'tis for monarchs to behead
The innocent. Thou hast another home,
For none may tarry in this Wayside Inn,
So act as God requireth at thy hands,
And hold in awe the Day of Reckoning.”
For those fair ladies in their fallen fortunes;
His cheeks glowed like a lamp at their distress
And anguish, and the sages' hearts were troubled,
For all of them remembered child and wife,
And all the captains and the valiant chiefs
Invoked much blessing on the Sháh and said:—
“Now for the Maker's sake let not the Sháh,
That man of name, exact revenge on them.”
The prudent Kai Khusrau made answer thus:—
“In spite of all that hath displeasured me
I will not cause a like distress to any,
However much my heart desireth vengeance,
And, though aggrieved am I when I recall
How that great monarch wronged my noble mother,
Yet will I bring the like on no one's head.”
The master of the world, the holy-born,
Then sent the ladies home, first saying to them:—
“Be at your ease; hear what I say in person:—
No miscreant that breaketh faith am I;
Henceforward ye have naught to fear from me,
And none shall entertain the wish to harm you,
Or otherwise his own life shall be brief.
Now in your palaces at ease abide,
Your souls and bodies unto God confide.”
Khusrau addressed the Íránians: “Conquering fortune
Hath given us the kingdom, crown, and throne;
The whole realm of Túrán, which we have captured,
Shall, like Írán, be yours to dwell therein.
Put ye away all vengeance from your hearts,
And charm the land with loving-kindliness,
For in their hearts the people fear us greatly,
And all the dust is turned to mire with bloodshed.
And look not even for your gratitude.
Be strenuous and be instant in well-doing,
And where ye found it winter make it spring.
My soldiers shall be satisfied anon
With treasures and dínárs, but let us keep
Our hands from bloodshed, not behead the guiltless;
It sorteth not with manhood to be moved
To anger lightly or to strike the fallen.
Avert your faces from the women—all
That veil themselves when going forth abroad;
Respect too others' wealth since for its sake
Friends are made foes; the Maker disapproveth
Of those that seek to harm the innocent,
And all that would assist my policy
Must not lay waste the land which now is mine.
Besides men call a prince who layeth waste
A peopled land unjust and sinister.”
The Sháh commanded then his troops to open
The treasures of the army of Túrán,
Save great Afrásiyáb's own privy hoards,
Which he reserved, but gave his men the rest—
The treasures and the weapons, thrones and crowns.
The scattered countless host of Turkmans flocked
From all sides to the Sháh, who gave them quarter,
Made much of them, and ordered their affairs
With all dispatch. He gave the chiefs their portion
Of Turkman lands, a city to each noble,
But in each province those that were rebellious
Received no quarter at his warriors' hands.
The country of Túrán was overcome,
And, when the letters to the chiefs arrived,
From every quarter messengers set forth
To carry to the Sháh the offerings
And letters of the potentates who now
Were one and all the servants of Khusrau.
Khusrau then called and charged a trusty scribe.
That He had purged the earth of wickedness,
Had overthrown the chief of sorcerers,
And waked the fortune that had slumbered so—
God, Source of might, of knowledge, and of justice,
And everywhere the Joy of the oppressed—
Then: “By the fortune of Sháh Kai Káús,
The great, the experienced, the benevolent,
This Gang that was Afrásiyáb's was stormed,
The head of his good fortune fell on sleep.
In sooth upon a single battlefield
Full forty thousand of his warlike chiefs,
Illustrious men who wielded massive maces,
Fell in their ranks by the Gulzaryún,
And afterward there came a hurricane,
Which rent the trees asunder, root and bough,
And drowned a multitude that still opposed us.
Afrásiyáb escaped to Gang-bihisht,
A place of arms completely garrisoned,
And of a truth in the ensuing siege
There perished thirty thousand warriors.
The tyrant showed himself to be a man,
But was not helped by wisdom or by fortune.
His troops are scattered over all his realm,
And he himself hath vanished from the world.
Hereafter I will send the Sháh reports
Whenever further glory shall be mine.”
He sealed the letter with his golden signet,
And, having gladly sent it to Káús,
Disposed himself for mirth with fairy-faced ones
To bring him wine. 'Twas thus till spring, the world
Became a paradise of hue and scent,
The plain resembled painted silk, the sky
A leopard's back; the onager and deer
Roamed o'er the waste, and time passed blithely on
With musky wine and Idols of Taráz.
The cattle like so many onagers
Spread far and wide; their necks grew full of
strength
Like lions' and their ears and heads like stags'.
Khusrau moreover sent forth those that spied
Upon the world's affairs to every side.
Then tidings came from Chín and from Khutan
How that Afrásiyáb was with that folk:—
“His cause is taken up by the Faghfúr,
And clamour filleth all the land of Chín
Whence troops extend to the Gulzaryún;
The Khán of Chín himself is in command.
None knoweth how much wealth, how many slaves,
And steeds with harness, the Faghfúr hath sent
Afrásiyáb. A host acclaimeth him,
And he hath all the treasures of Pírán—
Enough dínárs to load six thousand camels—
And as he bare them from Khutan an army
Flocked round him.”
All that had been given quarter
Thereat revolted from the Íránians,
And girded up their loins to take revenge.
Now when Afrásiyáb came from Khutan
He brought with him an army-shattering host;
“Earth,” thou hadst said, “will not sustain them all,
The stars will not avail to reckon them!”
In dudgeon, with this warlike host, he set
His face from Chín to go against Khusrau,
Who, when he heard, sent scouts out on the road,
And bade Gúdarz and lion-bold Farhád:—
“Abide ye here, be just and politic,
And let your scouts be out both night and day.”
Thou art its refuge both by day and night.
Hang every Turkman, whom thou shalt perceive
To be in favour of our enemies
In aught, forthwith alive upon the gibbet,
Head downward, feet aloft; forbear to vex
The inoffensive. Watch o'er host and treasure.”
Drums sounded from the monarch's tent-enclosure,
There was a blare of gong and clarion.
An army such that it embroiled the sun
Marched forth from Gang. When he had left the city
The Sháh arrayed his men against the foe.
Two leagues divided host from host. Khusrau
Convoked his noble chiefs, and said: “To-night
Let matters rest, yet be not lax or slothful.”
The scouts, distributed upon the waste,
Went all night long their rounds about the host.
He stayed one week preparing for the strife,
And on the eighth day, when the scouts fell in
Reporting to him that a host had come,
He had his troops arrayed in such a fashion
That sun and moon grew eager for the fray.
Afrásiyáb beheld this, ranked his powers
To face the enemy, and told his sages:—
“This battlefield is sleep and feast to me;
I would have welcomed it at sleeping-time,
And had provoked it had it not been offered.
Long have I been a fugitive, and now
My heart and head are full of strife and vengeance.
If Kai Khusrau's Grace, or mine own new fortune,
Constraineth me I know not, but I purpose
To fight with him come triumph, death, or sorrow.”
The sages of his kin and alien
Replied: “What need for host and combating,
If kings must fight in person? All of Chín
As alien, acknowledge thee. Oh! may
Our souls and bodies be a ransom for thee!
Our loyalty hath never wavered yet;
If hundreds perish, thousands shall come on:
Hold not thyself so cheap. We are thy lieges,
And live but in the glory of thy crown.”
Then from the army there arose a shout,
And earth and time grew full of strife and stir;
Stars shone through tawny dust, and to the eye
Sol's yellow face was lapis-lazuli.
The Turkman chief selected from the host
Two veterans and sent the Sháh a message:—
“Thou hast destroyed a multitude of troops.
In truth between Irán and Gang, O king!
There are a thousand leagues of hill and plain,
Of sandy wastes and hard, and our two armies
Have been like ants and locusts while the soils
From Gang and Chín until thou reach Írán,
Are like an ocean with the blood of feud;
So that if holy God drew from the dust
To some abyss the blood of all the slain
'Twould make a Red Sea that would drown both hosts!
If thou wilt have my treasure or my troops,
The country of Túrán, the throne and crown,
I will resign them to thee and be gone,
But yield my life up only to the sword.
Attempt not that; I am thy mother's sire,
Descended from the warlock Farídún,
And if thy heart is troubled to avenge
Thy father, and thou hast no reverence left
For me, the fault was all with Siyáwush
In that he filled my heart with grief and care;
Besides the stars which circle over us
Are both our shelter and our bane at whiles.
Since I went out with chiefs upon the plain,
While thou art young, Sháh of Írán, in fight
The Lions' Claws; so choose a battlefield
Remote, not on thy lieges' skirts, and we
Will wheel in combat far from either host.
If I fall by thy hand thy hook will serve
To draw forth crocodiles from waterways,
But strive not with my kindred and allies;
Refrain thyself, seethe not with such revenge;
And if thou shalt be slaughtered by my hand,
As God shall help me, I will suffer not
One of that folk of thine to feel a pang,
Or look upon the darksome dust of battle.”
Khusrau, when he had listened to the message,
Said to the son of Zál, the son of Sám:—
“This evil Turkman, who beguileth men,
Discerneth not between the ups and downs,
And talketh so of battle that perchance
He fain would lie in Shída's sepulchre!
'Tis no disgrace for me to fight with one,
Whose ancestor was Farídún, and sire
Pashang.”
But Rustam answered him: “O Sháh!
Have not the flame of battle in thy heart:
'Tis a dishonour for the Sháh to combat
Although a Leopard be thine opposite.
As for his saying: ‘Fight not with my host,
Nor yet against my family and realm,’
Thine army stretcheth out from sea to sea,
And never will consent. If thou wouldst make
A treaty with thy grandsire in God's sight
'Tis needful that his heart be free from guile.
Now let a general attack be made
In force; speak not of things that cannot aid.”
Khusrau, on hearing ancient Rustam's words,
Approved thereof and answered thus the envoy:—
He gave with guileful tongue and heart intent
On wrong a greater pledge to Siyáwush.
Go hence, and say thus to that evil-doer:—
‘Speak not henceforth in such a strain as this:
Chiefs get no glory out of knavery;
Thy mind is strangely warped, thy heart deceitful.
If thou art set on fight, and fight alone,
There are antagonists besides myself;
There are the matchless Rustam and brave Gív,
Who both are eager to contend with Lions;
Besides if monarchs are to challenge monarchs
What need is there for army and for mellay?
Henceforth I will not fight with thee myself,
But thou shalt see a day of gloom and straitness.’”
The messenger withdrew, returned like wind,
And advertised his lord of what had passed,
Who in his dudgeon made no haste to battle,
But when the Sháh moved forward to the attack
The other army was obliged to stir;
One host was eager, one had fain delayed,
While earth was all in motion like the sea.
Such were the showers of shafts that thou hadst said:—
“The clouds rain hail from mighty lions' maws!”
From dawn until the sun grew dim the earth
Was soaked with blood beneath the warriors' feet.
When night was closing in the hosts withdrew
Because the horsemen's sight was failing them,
And, when the king of kings returned to camp
In all his glory, pomp, and circumstance,
He said to Tús: “Afrásiyáb to-day
Did not engage in battle willingly.
Methinketh he will make a night-attack
To free his heart of long-enduring griefs.”
He bade a trench be dug across the road,
Whereby the army of Túrán would come,
And issued orders: “Let none kindle fires,
And let no jingling camel-bells be heard.”
Then from the host Khusrau chose cavaliers
Of valour, putting them in Rustam's charge,
Another force of men girt up for war,
Committing them to Tús the general
With orders to set forward toward the hills,
While matchless Rustam's way was toward the plain.
The Sháh bade: “Let them march with all dispatch
To left and right still keeping on the level,
One toward the plain the other toward the heights,
And not make use of outposts, lamps, or torches;
So if it chanceth that Afrásiyáb
Shall fall upon us at the time of sleep,
Our warriors may take his in the rear
To cut him off from help. Our troops will be
Behind him and the ditch in front, and then
The Sháh with all his elephants and men.”
The Turkman leader, when the night closed in,
Made ready with his soldiers to attack,
And, having summoned all his veterans,
Spake of the past at large: “This knave accursed
Hath triumphed greatly o'er his grandsire's troops:
Now yonder host no doubt are fast asleep,
And scattered widely over hill and plain;
So let us put misgiving from our hearts,
And make an onslaught on the foe at dawn,
For if we overcome them not to-night
We shall be humbled to the very dust.
Unless good fortune shall regain its lustre
Resource is wind, and manhood but a lie.”
They all agreed thereto and, having risen,
Made preparations for the night-attack.
Afrásiyáb chose fifty thousand men
Among the host, all veteran warriors
And fit for combating. Spies went on first—
Experienced men and lovers of the fray.
Where he perceived no challenge of the watch,
And everything appeared to him at rest—
No scouts, no watch-fires, not a breath of wind,
No thought about Túrán in any heart.
On seeing this he turned, went back in haste,
And said: “Not one is wakeful! All of them
Are dead asleep! Thou wouldst have said: ‘These men
Have drunk all day!’ No outposts are in sight,
And only brambles stand up on the plain!”
Afrásiyáb heard this, was cheered of heart,
Sent his host forward, mounted on his steed,
And girt him with his warriors to attack.
They came on, like the waters of the sea,
Apace but silently, without display,
No trumpet-call, no shout; but when they neared
The camp-enclosure rose the clarion's blare,
Rose roll of tymbal from the saddle-backs,
The sable standard was unfurled, and those
That were the foremost of the assailant band
Urged on their steeds and raised the battle-cry;
But many cavaliers fell down the fosse,
While others turned away their heads from fight.
On this side Rustam came up from the plain,
And dimmed the heaven with his horsemen's dust;
On that side Gív, son of Gúdarz, and Tús
Came on; in front the drums and trumpets sounded,
The king of kings with Káwa's flag was there;
The air was violet with horsemen's sabres,
The cry was “give” and “take” and “bind” and
“slay,”
The steeds were jaded and their riders dazed;
Two seas of blood were heaving and their waves
Gave earth the hue of tulips, while the host
Of steel-clad army-breakers made the mountains
Shake to their centres. On that Day of Doom
Those who would flee found no way to escape;
Among a hundred chiefs not ten were left;
The slain themselves blocked in the fugitives.
The leader of Túrán was so distressed
That all his troops lamented, wept, and burned
At that great anguish of their monarch's heart,
Who spake thus: “Verily a sage himself
Escapeth not the process of the sky!
But since the foe is fainer for our lives
Than for our wealth we can but strive once more,
And either give our bodies to be slain,
Or set the crown of kingship on our heads.”
From both the camp-enclosures shouts arose,
The world was filled with blare of clarions.
The troops marched, shouldering double-headed darts
And scimitars, in lines three leagues in length.
That field was like the sea. Bright sun and moon
Shone not. The hosts came onward, rank on rank,
As in the ocean wave pursueth wave.
Thou wouldst have said: “The vales and hills are full
Of blood. The sun hath left the turning sky.”
Heaven's face was smeared with pitch and no one
tendered
His person. Then arose a mighty blast—
A storm whose like is not in memory.
It raised the dust, it blew against the heads
And eyes of the Túránians and bore off
Their helms. Afrásiyáb was all astound.
The desert was all brains and blood, the rocks
Were red as jujubes to their very cores!
The Turkman cavaliers, who in their days
Of ease thought lightly of a leopard-hunt,
Declined to battle with the turning sky
What time the blast uplifted man and horse.
Khusrau, on seeing this and that the hearts
And fortunes of the Íránians were joyous,
With Rustam, Gív, son of Gúdarz, and Tús,
Advanced the tymbals from the army's centre,
And battle-shouts arose. Upon one hand
Was Rustam, on the other hand the Sháh.
And what a cloud! One raining shafts and swords!
On every side were mountain-heaps of slain
With springs of blood within them from both hosts.
The air was like a robe of indigo,
The earth appeared to be a sea of gore,
And heaven was like an eagle's wing with arrows.
Afrásiyáb looked on with glooming heart,
Descried the waving flag of violet,
And showed his flag no longer at the centre,
But left his host embattled, and himself
Retreated with his chiefs and men of name.
He took with him a thousand of his kin,
And choicest of his troops—all fit for fight—
And, taking to the pathless waste, preserved
His life from foemen by his body's toil.
The Sháh sought for his grandsire in the host,
Advancing to the centre with all haste,
But, though he urged his charger to the utmost,
He found no traces of Afrásiyáb,
Whose soldiers, when they looked toward the centre
And missed the sable flag, laid down their arms
And asked for quarter. Kai Khusrau received them
With graciousness, gave them a separate camp,
Then bade his men set up the golden throne,
And deck the tents with broidery of Chín,
Brought forth the wine and summoned minstrelsy,
Inviting many captains of the host.
He made a feast which lasted till the dawn,
A feast which made the dead rise from their graves.
Whenas the sun's hand showed upon the sky,
And wounded with its nails the dark night's face,
The Íránian monarch bathed his head and body,
And with the Zandavasta sought a spot
Where he was hidden from the Íránians' eyes,
And where wild creatures could not hear his voice.
From break of day till in the Dome of Teak
The moon assumed her heart-illuming crown,
For that glad turn of fortune, rubbing oft
His visage in the dust and pouring down
Two rivers from his eyes upon his cheeks.
Thence he departed to his crown and throne
With stately step, glad-hearted, fortunate.
All who had fallen of the Íránians,
Alive or dead, they carried off the field,
But left with scorn the bodies of the foe.
They turned the whole field into charnel-houses,
And, when they had disposed of all the slain,
The Sháh bestowed the booty on his men,
And thence toward Gang-bihisht he made his way
With troops at all points ready for the fray.
Now when the tidings reached Máchín and Chín
About the Turkmans and the Íránian king,
The Khán and the Faghfúr both writhed with anguish;
Each was concerned about his mighty throne,
Repented of the aid that he had furnished,
And diligently sought a remedy.
Said the Faghfúr: “Now will Afrásiyáb
Hereafter never even dream of greatness,
And therefore doubtless we shall suffer loss
Through having sent the treasure and the troops.
Repentance is the one resource for us
Since this is matter to destroy our realms.”
He called to him a faithful messenger,
And gave him full instructions. What was fitting
Among his hoards—dínárs and uncut gems—
He sent with his excuses to the Sháh.
The messengers departed on their journey;
Those mighty men of Chín made no delay,
And in one sennight they arrived at Gang.
And seated them according to their rank,
Accepted that which they had brought with them—
The rarities, the purses, and the slaves—
And thus addressed the envoy: “Say to him:—
‘Accord us not an empty reverence,
Afrásiyáb must never visit thee
E'en in thy dreams at night.’”
The envoy left
Like wind and told the words to the Faghfúr,
Who, when he heard them, sent Afrásiyáb
A messenger by night to say to him:—
“Avoid the frontiers of Khutan and Chín,
And grieve for all the evil done by thee.
All those who quit the path and go astray
Encounter tribulation on their way.”
Afrásiyáb, when he had heard the message,
Repenting of his deeds of yore, betook him
Across the pathless desert, and resigned
The style of monarch to preserve his life;
But, seeing that his days were spent in pain,
Distress, and toil he made all haste to reach
Mount Ispurúz, and both by day and night
Avoided foes. His provand everywhere
Was game. Thus fared he till he reached the sea,
His loins all galled with travail, belt, and buckle.
Now when he reached that deep, whereto he saw
No middle and no end, he bade the shipman
Prepare a ship to carry him across.
The old Salt said: “Great monarch of Khutan
And Chín! although my years are seventy-eight
I ne'er saw ship cross hither.”
Said the mighty
Afrásiyáb: “Oh! well is he that dieth
The world accepteth him as one not slain.”
He issued his commands to all the captains
To launch sufficient vessels and set sail
Toward Gang-dizh away from good and evil.
Arriving there he ate and slept in peace,
And rested from the fortunes of the war.
“We will be happy here,” 'twas thus he spake,
“And not concern ourselves about the past;
When my dim star hath brightened I will cross
The sea, take vengeance on my foes, and make
My policy and institutions flourish.”
When Kai Khusrau was made aware thereof—
The new departure of that ancient man—
He spake to Rustam thus: “Afrásiyáb
Hath crossed o'er to Gang-dizh, and thus made good
His words to me: ‘High heaven is with us.’
His crossing turneth all our toils to wind.
Ne'er will I hold a parley with my grandsire
Save with the sword, ne'er hold this feud outworn,
But in the might of God, the Conqueror,
Gird me to take revenge for Siyáwush,
Will cover all Makrán and Chín with troops,
And traverse the Kímák. When both Máchín
And Chín are mine I shall not ask Makrán
For aid, but bear, if heaven will favour us,
The host across the sea. Although the task
Prove long I yet may take that man of blood.
Ye have endured much travail, and have passed
O'er field and fell and cultivated tracts,
And yet to lay this travail on ourselves
Is better than to give our foes the world.
Our fame shall last until the Day of Doom
For conquest and for foemen put to flight.”
Thereat the paladins were sorely downcast,
Sighs were upon their lips, frowns on their brows.
The business with fair winds would take six months!
Who knoweth which of us will 'scape the waters?
Afrásiyáb hath brought ill on the host:
On land we have to fight, and when at sea
Are in the gullet of the crocodile!”
Each had his plan, and after much debate
Thus Rustam spake: “Ye world-experienced,
Ye puissant princes, and ye veteran chiefs!
The toils that we have borne must not be fruitless,
Or made sport for the wind of indolence;
Moreover this victorious Sháh should gain
The fruit of his good star. We never halted,
Unless to fight, between Írán and Gang.
The Sháh would eat the fruit of all his toil;
For this he came, for this he will march on.”
Whenas the army heard the words of Rustam
They framed their answer in an altered tone.
The mighty men, the men of wisdom, rose
With tongues prepared to answer pleasantly,
And said: “We all are servants of the Sháh,
And he that hath our service hath our love.
Thine is it to command on land and sea;
We all of us are slaves and bound to thee.”
The Sháh rejoiced thereat, made much of them,
And seated them, each as his rank deserved,
Then oped the portal of his grandsire's hoards,
Unmindful of the bonds of love and kindred.
They put upon a thousand lusty camels
Loads of brocade, of jewels, and dínárs.
There were ten thousand oxen drawing wagons
With implements of war, and camels laden
With drachms past counting from the treasury.
When night had come he issued orders, saying:—
“Bear the kinswomen of Afrásiyáb,
In litters from the palace by the road
Down to the royal park, and furthermore
A hundred famous and illustrious chiefs,
Each one of them renowned for gallantry,
And all the kindred of Afrásiyáb,
Whose eyes are filled with tears of grief for him,
Such men as Jahn and noble Garsíwaz,
In litters with their feet made fast in bonds,
Besides a thousand hostages from Chín
And Turkistán as pledges for those states.”
The Sháh then chose him from the Íránians
Ten thousand men. He put them in Gív's charge,
And said: “O thou whose steps are fortunate!
Go with this company to Kai Káús.”
He ordered next a scribe to come prepared
With paper, musk, and spicery, to write
A letter with rose-water, musk, and ink
About the matter of Afrásiyáb.
The scribe, whenas his pen was wet with musk
And ink, praised first of all the righteous Judge:—
“He is the Upholder and the Finisher,
He is the Artificer of earth and time,
The Maker of the ant and elephant,
Of trifling mote and of the dark blue sea,
The Lord of that which is and that which is not,
To whose supremacy all things submit.
The sky will not turn harshly o'er the man
Whom He hath fed with loving-kindliness.
His blessings be upon the king of earth,
The Maker of the warp and woof of peace.
I reached this fortress which Afrásiyáb
Kept for his season of repose and ease.
Within it were his throne and coronet,
His greatness, diadem, his crown, and host.
'Twas forty days before the ramparts fell,
And we could reach the enemy; but Gív
Will give the Sháh the full particulars
Of all that chanced upon the battlefield.
Give thanks on my behalf both day and night.
I will lead on the army to Máchín
And Chín, and thence will march upon Makrán,
And after with the aid of holy God
Will cross the sea.”
Forthwith Gív left the presence
With many troops and gallant warriors.
The journey passed like wind; he neared Káús,
Who, when he heard of that auspicious offspring
Of paladins, sent many troops to meet him;
The nobles too set forward on the way.
When gallant Gív was coming to the Sháh
That warrior-band looked like a plain of lions.
Gív, entering the presence, kissed the ground
Before the state. Káús, on seeing him,
Arose with smiles and stroked him on the face,
Asked touching king and host, and how they fared
Beneath the circling sun and shining moon.
The gallant Gív told all that he had seen,
About the great king and the warriors,
In words whereat the ancient Sháh grew young,
Then gave the letter to a scribe to read,
Who read it to the monarch of Írán,
And filled the whole assembly with amaze.
Then Sháh Káús descended from his throne,
Took from his head the Kaian coronet,
And, wallowing upon the darksome dust,
Returned thanksgiving to all holy God,
And thence departed to his dwelling-place,
Escorted by his loyal paladins.
Gív told what he had seen and what Khusrau
Had said. Káús brought wine and summoned min-strels,
Inviting the brave princes of Írán,
Thus did the hours of darkness fleet away
Until with lights the guests went from the presence,
And made for home with glad and merry hearts.
Now when the sun shot from its radiant orb
Its arrows and night turned its gathered reins,
There rose a din of tymbals at the court,
The warriors went in to audience.
The ruler of the world then summoned Gív,
Placed him upon the famed, imperial throne,
And ordered that the spoils should be brought forth,
The haughty and illustrious warriors,
Together with the guiltless womenfolk—
The unseen victims of Afrásiyáb—
With Jahn and Garsíwaz—the man of guile,
Who had tripped up the feet of Siyáwush.
Káús, beholding wicked Garsíwaz,
Cursed him as he deserved. They brought both him
And Jahn in gyves before the lofty throne,
With all the prisoners and hostages.
The Sháh dealt with them after their deserts,
Put one in ward, another into bonds;
One was all hope, another in distress.
Káús beheld with eyelids full of tears
The daughters of the great Afrásiyáb,
And made the royal bower their dwelling-place,
With handmaids to attend them. All the spoils
Of every kind, dínárs and uncut gems,
He gave to the Íránians that they
Might call down blessings on the king of earth.
He made the captives over to his chiefs,
Retaining neither great nor small himself.
They then prepared a residence for Jahn,
Providing food, attendants, and a guard.
There was a gloomy dungeon in a hold,
Repulsive, with a charnel-house hard by,
And this became the lot of Garsíwaz:
Such are time's changes! Blest are they that rule
With open hands and hearts devout and pure,
And never haunt the portal of the fool;
But he whose wits are small and lusts236
debased
Is by a leech among the madmen placed.
Whenas the Sháh had made an end of these
He cleared the hall of every stranger there,
And then the scribe prepared himself to write,
And made his pen's point like a diamond.
They wrote a letter to the provinces,
To all the men of name and all the chiefs:
It ran: “Túrán and Chín are now the Sháh's,
The sheep and leopard water at one cistern.”
He made a gift of money to the poor,
And to his own attendants and his kin.
Before his portal for two sennights' space
Men saw no passage through the crowds that sought
For largess. The third week Káús reposed
In Grace upon the throne of majesty,
While mid the sound of flute and song the cup
Was welcomed. From the goblet of the Sháh
Rose for a sennight waves of ruddy wine.
When New Moon came he made a gift to Gív—
A gift of gold plate set with turquoises,
Of golden chargers and of turquoise goblets,
Of golden girdles and of silver harness,
Of female slaves with torques and earrings on,
Of bracelets and of crowns of jewel-work,
Of raiment also, thrones, and carpetings,
Of bright stuffs, perfumes, and embroidery.
The monarch sent for Gív; they seated him
Upon a golden throne and then presented
The gifts before him. After that was done
Gív with his face caressed the royal throne.
A scribe with paper, musk, and spicery
Approached Káús, and wrote: “I am rejoiced
And well content with this God-given fortune
And worthy of the greatness, crown, and throne.
That bad man, who oppressed and used the world
To no end but for war and harrying,
Is now a fugitive therein through thee,
And no one uttereth his name aloud.
He was a man of bloodshed all his years,
Unstable, passionate, and evil-natured;
'Twas he who struck the neck of crowned Naudar—
That living monument of Sháhs of old.
He is a fratricide, a miscreant,
A regicide, malicious, vile, insensate.
Let him not set his foot within Túrán,
Makrán, or by the sea of Chín. Perchance
The world may be delivered from the villain.
Now if the upright Judge, the only God,
Guide thee to cleanse the earth of bad men's troublings,
And of fools' pratings and performances,
Be joyful in the justice of the Maker,
And be a new foundation for the world.
If I shall see thee come again in joy,
While grief shall fill the bosoms of our foes,
Thenceforth will I devote my days to prayer
To holy God, from whom are hope and fear,
That thou mayst be victorious and glad.
May thy head flourish, justice fill thy heart,
Be the Creator of the world thy Guide,
Thy seat upon the throne for evermore.”
They sealed the letter with the Sháh's own signet,
And Gív went from the palace to return;
He loitered not in going to Khusrau
At Gang-bihisht, did reverence and delivered
The letter and the message of Káús.
The Sháh was joyful at his grandsire's words,
Called minstrelsy and boon-companions,
Exulting as a victor for three days.
The fourth day, when the World-illuminer shone,
He gave out helm and mail to all the troops,
Gave as it is the wont of Sháhs to give.
A world—a noble host of warriors—
Then quitted favoured Gang-bihisht for Chín,
And won a fresh world with the scimitar.
He battled both by day and darksome night;
He was a watch by night, a scout by day,
And thus it was until in tears, with dust
Upon his head, he reached his father's city.
He went about the garth of Siyáwush,
Went where the bason overflowed with blood,238
And said: “If now the Judge, the only God,
Will but vouchsafe to guide me on the way,
Then by this self-same token will I shed
Afrásiyáb's own blood like water here!”
He left the spot, departing to his throne,
And communed with the holy Judge alone.
Khusrau chose envoys good at parleying,
And sent some to the Khán, to the Faghfúr,
And to the ruler of Makrán, to say:—
“If ye will choose the right, perform my hest,
And in your hearts repent of your ill deeds,
Dispatch provisions on before my troops,
For ye must needs behold me on my march,
But him that turneth from these words of mine,
Or faileth to present himself before me,
Will I behead with trenchant scimitar,
And on his palace bring the Day of Doom.”
These envoys went to all the provinces,
Wherever there was any famous chief,
And grieved were the Faghfúr and Khán of Chín,
Grieved too the potentates of all those climes,
But gave warm greetings to the messengers
In dulcet voices and with honied words;
They said: “We all are servants to the Sháh,
And only tread the earth to do his will.
We will survey the passes where the road
And furnish all the aidance in our power.”
Those that were wise said: “If he pass us by,
And leave us scathless, we will give the poor
No little largess both of food and money.”
Each gave large presents to the messengers,
Who came back to the court content and glad;
But when the noble envoy reached Makrán,
Approached the throne, delivered up the letter,
And gave the oral message that he bore,
He found the heart all other of that king,
Who thoughtlessly misprized the messenger,
To his folk's grief, and answered: “Tell the Sháh:—
‘Assume not o'er us novel powers. The age
Is 'neath my fortune, and my crown and throne
Illume the earth, and when the bright sun shineth,
Such is its love, it shineth first on us.
Moreover I have knowledge and much wealth,
With greatness, manliness, and might of hand.
If any asketh leave to pass 'tis well,
Because the earth is every creature's realm.
If thou wilt pass I will not bar the way:
Do thou no damage with thy troops in passing;
But if thou enter cities with thy host
Thou hast no portion in this sovereignty.
I will not suffer thee to cross our soil,
Or even to set foot upon our marches,
Nor will I let thee come off conqueror,
However much thy good stars favour thee.”
Now when the Sháh heard such an answer given
He moved forth from his quarters with the troops,
And took the way that leadeth through Khutan—
A world-lord followed by a famous host.
Then the Faghfúr and Khán of Chín came forth
To meet the Sháh with blessings and excuses,
Came with their chiefs to meet him on his way,
When he was still three stages short of Chín.
The dales and plains were like a dwelling-place,
The road was well supplied with clothes and victuals,
With halting-places, feasts, and carpetings;
And when the troops were drawing near a city
The folk put decorations everywhere.
They fastened up brocade upon the walls,
And sifted musk and spicery o'erhead.
Then the Faghfúr, when confidence returned,
Went first to lead the way toward the palace,
Thus saying: “We are subjects of the Sháh—
If we are worthy even to be subjects.240
May thy good fortune civilize the world,
And may thy friends' hearts be rejoiced in thee.
Unworthy though my halls be of the Sháh
I hold them not inferior to the road.”
Illustrious Khusrau went to the palace,
And took his seat upon the famous state,
While the Faghfúr presented unto him
A hundred thousand coins—dínárs of Chín—
And stood there in the presence of Khusrau,
Together with the prudent frontier-chiefs.
In Chín Khusrau continued for three months
With all the nobles of the Íránian host;
Each morning the Faghfúr attended him,
And made the Sháh new gifts continually,
Who in the fourth month marched from Chín like
wind
Upon Makrán; but Rustam stayed behind.
Khusrau departed and when near Makrán
Chose one of much experience from the host,
And sent him to the monarch with these words:—
“May kings and wisdom be companions.
Consider from what regions we have come:
We are not drunk and dozing o'er our purpose.
My fortune and my crown illume the world;
My throne is based on chieftains' heads. Prepare
A road and provand for my host; let plenty
When rations fail, and save I furnish them
The troops will combat and will make the world
Strait to their foes; but if thou wilt not hear me
Thou shalt wade through the blood of multitudes,
And make a desolation of Makrán
If thou attack the Lions unprovoked.”
The envoy came and did his embassage,
But no advice or justice found a place
In that king's heart. His foolish head was angered;
He raged and there was mischief in his thoughts.
He concentrated all his scattered troops,
Prepared a battlefield upon the plain,
And bade the messenger: “Go get thee hence!
Return to that malicious man and say:—
‘By change from days of darkness thou hast grown
Thus prosperous and world-illumining,
Yet, when thou comest, shalt behold our might,
And learn what men and warriors really are.’”
Whenas the envoy of the Sháh had gone
The whole state of Makrán was filled with clamour,
The land from mount to mount and all the marches
Were occupied by troops. The monarch brought
Two hundred elephants of war. “No room,”
Thou wouldst have said, “remaineth on the earth!”
While at the chargers' neighs and soldiers' shouts
The moon strayed from its pathway in the sky.
The scouts approached the Sháh and said to him:—
“Makrán is darkened with the dust of troops,
The realm is full of flags and elephants;
The Sháh can see them now two miles away.”
The monarch bade his troops draw up in line,
And take their maces and their swords in hand,
While from Makrán a scout came on the plain,
And all the livelong night went round the host.
Upon the Íránian side Tukhár kept watch,
Who thought a fight a small thing. Those two met—
A noble Lion and fierce Elephant.
In twain, and filled Makrán's king's heart with fear.
The two hosts in the ordering of their ranks
Made heaven viewless with the clouds of dust,
They drew toward each other mountain-like,
And closed; the leader Tús came from the centre,
While din of trump and tymbal filled the world,
With Káwa's flag before him, while behind
Were warriors with their golden boots. The air
Was full of arrows, earth of elephants;
The world was heaving like the dark blue sea.
The monarch of Makrán at the army's centre
Died smitten by a double-headed dart.
One asked: “Shall we cut off his head, O Sháh!”
Who answered: “We will treat him with respect.
Who cutteth off kings' heads unless he be
A villain of the seed of Áhriman?
Prepare a charnel-house, musk, and rose-water—
A sleeping-chamber worthy of a king—
And, seeing that the wound is through his mail,
By that same token strip ye not the body,
But veil his visage with brocade of Chín,
For he hath died the death that heroes die.”
Now of that host there were ten thousand slain
Of cavaliers and warriors wielding swords;
Of prisoners there were seven and fifty score,
And the survivors' heads were filled with anguish.
The Íránians carried off the camp-enclosure,
The spoil, the elephants, and splendid throne,
And all the nobles of Írán grew rich,
While many had a crown and throne besides.
Anon the warriors, lovers of the fray,
Proceeded to the pillage of Makrán;
The wail of women rose from town and waste,
The holds and towns, dashed heaven upon earth,
Transfixing many with their archery,
And making women and young children captives.
As soon as the Sháh's wrath had been appeased
He ordered that his army should withdraw,
And also that Ashkash, the shrewd of wit,
Should cease from pillage, strife, and harrying,
And suffer nobody to do an outrage,
Or treat the wretched with severity.
Then all the upright people of the state
Approached to plead their cause before the Sháh,
Thus saying: “We are innocent and helpless,
And aye oppressed by tyrants. It would be
Well worthy of the Sháh to pardon us
If he shall recognise our innocence.”
A proclamation went forth from head-quarters:—
“Ye paladins whose counsel prospereth!
If through injustice, pillage, strife, or tumult,
Henceforth an outcry riseth anywhere,
Then will I cut in two the outragers
That have no fear of God before their eyes.”
The worldlord tarried one year in Makrán,
And requisitioned great ships everywhere;
Then when the spring arrived and earth grew green,
When tulips filled the hills and grass the waste,
When steeds could pasture, hunters go afield,
And gardens were adorned by flowers and fruit-trees,
He bade his faithful liege Ashkash remain
To govern leniently and uprightly
Withal, maintaining justice unimpaired,
And marched out from the country to the desert,
Light-heartedly accepting all the toils.
'Twas holy God's decree that in the waste
They should not look on dust. The firmament
Was full of cloud, the earth of springing corn,
The world of tulips and of fenugreek.
In wagons drawn along by buffalos.
The waste gave herbage, room to camp was there,
Earth was all moisture, and all clouds the air.
The warriors, when Khusrau had reached the sea,
Put off their mail; the Sháh had taken with him
The mariners from Chín and from Makrán,
And made those preparations on the shore
That men are wont to make before a voyage;
He bade prepare provisions for a year
To last till he should reach the other side.
The prosperous Sháh, the seeker of God's way,
Withdrew in all his glory from the strand,
And, in the fervent importunity
Of pleading with the Maker of the world,
Besought of the Almighty and most High
To bear him scathless to dry land again.
He said: “Almighty Ruler of the world,
Who knowest both the secret and the open!
Thou art the Warden both of land and sea,
The Lord of heaven and the Pleiades,
The Guardian of my life and of my host,
The Guardian of my treasure, throne, and crown.”
The sea was rough and all hearts were distressed,
Yet for six months the vessels were their couch.
The seventh month, when half the year had passed,
The north wind blew against them, and the sails
Were ta'en aback; the vessels moved stern-foremost.
They wandered from their proper course and reached
A place which sailors call “The Lion's Mouth,”
Yet God so ordered it that wind and storm
Dealt gently with the fortune of the Sháh.
To Kai Khusrau in great astonishment
How lions fought with oxen in the waves;
They sighted men with hair like lassos, men
Completely covered, as sheep are, with wool!
There was a troop with heads like buffalos,
Their hands behind their backs and feet in front!
There was a fish that had a leopard's head,
A crocodile that had an onager's,
A lamb a hog's! The water teemed with them!
The Íránians showed each other those strange sights,
And called upon the Maker of the world,
Till by the merey of the Lord of heaven
The wind abated and the storm was hushed.
In seven months the voyage was completed,
They were not visited again by storms.
Khusrau on landing saw a spacious plain,
Then came before the Maker of the world,
And chafed his face upon the dusty ground.
He drew his ships and boats up from the sea,
And tarried not, there was no time to lose.
Before him were the desert, plain, and sands,
The shifting sands o'er which he passed unhurt.
The cities there resembled those of Chín;
The tongue was like that spoken in Makrán:
He rested in those cities and required
A great provision from them for his host.
The Sháh committed all that land to Gív,
And said to him: “Partake of fortune's fruits.
Treat even evil-doers leniently,
For wealth and goods are worthless to my heart.
Henceforward hold I no man of account,
But worship God who is the Succourer.”
He chose out from the host a man of name,
Acquainted with the language of the folk,
To take a message to their kings, it ran:—
“Whoever seeketh peace and satisfaction,
Let him attend this court in merry guise,
With jocund heart, rich gifts, and right good will;
Shall bear the penalty of his ill counsels.”
Whenas the messenger had come to them
He gave the message of the king of kings,
And every one replied: “We are his subjects
If we are worthy even to be such.”
No chief refused; they, old and young alike,
Came to the audience of the Sháh with gifts,
The marchlord and the monarch equally.
Khusrau, on seeing this, received them well,
And raised their necks until they reached the sun,
Then sought intelligence about Gang-dizh,
The throne of power, and Afrásiyáb.
The spokesman of the company replied:—
“No seas or mountains are before thee here,
And, reckoning all roads, both good and bad,
Hence unto Gang is but a hundred leagues.
No life is left in that unrighteous king,
But few of his unrighteous men remain,
And ever since he came across the sea
He and his followers have been at Gang.”
The Sháh was glad at that intelligence,
And thought the labour light. He gave the chiefs
A robe of honour each, called for their steeds,
And then dismissed them homeward while he went
Toward Gang-dizh with all his armament.
He drew the army up, gave rations out,
And, mindful of the Giver of all good,
Proclaimed: “Whoe'er ensueth wickedness
Shall writhe beneath the chastisement of God.
Ye must not so conduct you in this city
That e'en an ant shall be a sufferer.”248
His cheeks were veiled by tears. Then from his steed
Alighting and with head upon the ground
He praised the Maker, saying: “O righteous Judge!
A slave am I whose heart is filled with awe
And reverence. Thou hast given me strength and rule,
Grace, army, courage, fortune, feet, and wings,
That I might see my father's city-walls
Arising from the ground. 'Twas Siyáwush
Who raised these battlements from their foundations
By Grace of holy God, and when a tyrant
Stretched forth a hand against him wickedly
His murder wounded all men to the heart.”
The troops with one consent wept o'er those ram-parts,
Wept for the blood of blameless Siyáwush,
Who perished by his adversary's hand—
An act which sowed the world with seeds of feud.
Now when these tidings reached Afrásiyáb:—
“The world-subduing Sháh hath crossed the sea,”
He kept what he had heard concealed till night,
And then without a word to any one,
And leaving all his veterans behind,
Fled unattended, full of wretchedness.
When Kai Khusrau had entered into Gang
His head was troubled and his heart was full.
He saw a pleasance that rejoiced all hearts,
With meadows like the lamps of Paradise;
Each corner had its fount and rosary,
The ground was hyacinths, each bough a perch
For nightingales. All said: “Behold a place
Where we could live in happiness till death!”
The wary king thereafter gave command
To seek the leader of the Turkman host.
They searched the gardens, plains, and palaces,
Employing guides to point them out the way.
The searchers roamed about like maniacs,
If haply they might find a trace of him,
And in the prosecution of the quest
They captured no small number of his folk,
And slew full many who were innocent,
But of the unjust king they found no trace.
Khusrau abode a whole year at Gang-dizh,
With minstrels and with revellers; the world
All gardens, rosaries, and pleasances.
The Sháh's affection would not let him leave;
He tarried there victorious and glad.
The paladins of the Íránian host
Appeared one day before him and said thus:—
“Grant that the Sháh's heart be at perfect rest,
And not a thought be turned toward Írán,
Still in good sooth our foe Afrásiyáb
Hath left this shore and gone across the sea,
And Sháh Káús upon the throne is old
Without an army, treasure, Grace, and power;
So if Afrásiyáb shall reach Írán,
Full of revenge, who will watch o'er the land?
Should he recover throne and diadem,
Then all our travail will produce no fruit.”
The Sháh replied: “The counsel that ye give
Is mated to advantage.”
He convoked
The chief men of the place, spake much to them
Of travail past, and him that was the fittest—
The first in honour and most capable—
The Sháh presented with a robe of honour,
Intending to make Gang a marchlord's castle,
And said to him: “Abide here in all joy,
But never careless of the enemy.”
He then distributed what wealth there was,
Distributed both steeds and hoarded treasures,
Enriching all the townsfolk with their shares;
What armlets, thrones, and coronets were theirs!
Now at the hour when chanticleer awaketh
The tymbals sounded in the palace-court,
Whereat the army eager to depart
Turned toward the desert. All the local chiefs,
Wherever there was any mighty man,
Such as were worthy of the Sháh and host.
Along the route whereby the army marched
The valleys and the plains were like bázárs;
No man could venture to withhold his hand
Upon the mountains, wastes, or camping-grounds.
The great mon, who with gifts and offerings
Kept coming to give welcome to the Sháh,
Upon beholding such a glorious monarch
Approached in crowds to do him reverence,
While he excused them from attending him
Upon the march and gave them robes of honour.
Gív came forth with an army and with all
The leaders of that land to give him welcome.
The prudent Sháh received Gív graciously,
With honours such as Siyáwush had paid,
And, lighting when he reached the sea, inspected
The sails, and stayed two sennights on the shore
In talk with Gív of all that he had seen,
And said: “Whoe'er hath viewed not Gang hath naught
To make him wish to tarry on the earth.”
The Sháh then bade his men to load the ships
And, sending first two boats, launched after them
A thousand vessels. He bade all that skilled
In seamanship, and showed a dauntless heart
Upon the depths of ocean, to set sail.
They crossed the sea, the voyage of a year,
In seven months; so speeding was the breeze
That Sháh and army made their way across,
And not a sleeve was turned by hostile winds.
Whenas the leader reached dry land once more,
And disembarking looked upon the plain,
He came and chafed his face upon the dust,
Invoking holy God. He lavished food
And ordered robes of honour and dínárs
For those that had endured the toil aboard;
Then took the desert-route while all men marvelled.
Ashkash on hearing brought a host to meet him,
And lighting from his charger kissed the ground,
And did obeisance. They bedecked Makrán
Throughout, and summoned minstrelsy, the harp
Was heard in all the ways and wastes, and thou
Hadst said: “The harp is warp, the air is woof.”
They decked the walls with hangings of brocade,
And scattered drachms and sweetmeats underfoot.
The magnates of Makrán—both men of name
And mighty warriors—appeared before
The conquering Sháh with gifts and offerings.
Ashkash presented all the land's best products.
The Sháh approved all that Ashkash had done
As ruler of Makrán, and chose a chief,
Bestowing on him many gifts and blessings.
When with the noble chieftains of Írán
Khusrau had left Makrán and drawn toward Chín,
Came Rustam, son of Zál, the son of Sám,
To meet him with a glad, contented host.
That noble cavalier, when Kai Khusrau
Appeared afar, beheld the parasol,
Alighted from his steed, and did obeisance.
The noble Sháh clasped Rustam to his breast,
Told of the wonders seen by him at sea,
And how Afrásiyáb, the sorcerer,
Had disappeared. He stayed as Rustam's guest
One sennight and then left Máchin and Chín,
Bestowing them on the Faghfúr and Khán,
Who ofttimes blessed him. Many a gift and counsel
He gave them and released their hearts from care,
Upon the Ard of month Sapandármad.
His eyes and heart were full on entering
His father's city. When he reached the spot
Where Garsíwaz, the man of evil mark,
Gurwí, the accursed, and executioners
Had shamefully beheaded Siyáwush,
He poured that dark dust on his head and rent
His face and breast while Rustam rubbed his face
In that dust too and cursed Gurwí's soul black.
Then Kai Khusrau exclaimed: “Thou, O my lord!
Hast left me here as thy memorial;
I have forgone no jot of vengeance for thee,
And will ensue it while the world endureth.
I made the throne quit of Afrásiyáb,
And I will seek no rest or sleep henceforth
In hope that I may get him in my clutches,
And make the world both black and strait to him.”
Next turning to his father's treasure-hoard,
As he had been instructed by his mother,
He opened it and furnished forth supplies.
He stayed two weeks with gladness in that city,
And gave two hundred purses of dínárs
To Rustam and abundant gifts to Gív.
Now Gustaham, son of Naudar, on hearing:—
“The Sháh is visiting his father's city,”
Set forth to meet him with a mighty escort
Of chieftains and of warriors of Írán,
And, seeing in the distance the Sháh's head
And crown, alighted and fared far afoot,
While all the host acclaimed the earth's just king,
Who ordered Gustaham to mount his steed,
And thus they went rejoicing, hand in hand,
To Gang-bihisht. The troops received high honour.
Their loyalty was like a fruitful tree
In constant bearing. Sháh and cavalier
Were busy at the banquet and the chase,
While all the Turkmans of exalted rank
Had every favour that they could desire.
Khusrau sought tidings of Afrásiyáb,
But nobody could show a trace of him;
There was no mention of him in the world.
One night the Sháh, when he had bathed himself,
Went with the scriptures of the Zandavasta
Apart, and all night wept and laid his head
Upon the ground before the Maker, saying:—
“This feeble slave of Thine hath evermore
Some trouble in possession of his soul.
The world—its mountains, deserts, wastes, and waters—
Will I thresh out to find Afrásiyáb
Because he walketh not Thy way, O Judge!
Contemning every one on earth as vile.
Thou knowest that he is neither just nor true,
A shedder of much blood of guiltless heads.
Oh! that the righteous Judge, the only God,
Would guide me to that doer of ill deeds,
For though I am but an unworthy slave
I am the Maker's worshipper. I hear
No fame or rumour of Afrásiyáb
On earth: I see him not but Thou seest all.
If Thou art pleased with him, O righteous Judge!
Divert my thoughts from any further strife,
Quench in my heart the fire of my revenge,
And make my purposes conform with Thine.”
Then from the place of prayer he sought his throne,
A noble youth and of unsleeping fortune.
At Gang-bihisht he lived a restful life
For one whole year exempt from war and strife.
When he had tarried long at Gang-bihisht,
And yearned to look again on Kai Káús,
He put the country from the sea of Chín
Up to Kibchák in charge of Gustaham,
Son of Naudar, gave him a countless host,
And said to him: “Be ware of heart and glad.
Stretch forth thy hand o'er Chín and o'er Makrán,
Dispatching letters unto all the folk,
And seeking tidings of Afrásiyáb;
It may be that the world is rid of him.”
Such as dínárs and precious stones uncut,
Musk, camphor, golden trappings for the steeds,
Slave-boys and horses, thrones and necklaces,
Brocade of Chín and carpeting, and all
The produce of the country of Makrán—
The monarch drave before him on the way,
In wagons drawn by forty thousand oxen,
While all men said: “None ever saw such wealth,
Nor hath there been such wealth as this before!”
The army was so great that day and night
The troops were passing over hill and vale,
And they who reached a station saw no break
In those behind them. Thus Khusrau reached Chách,
And hung the crown above the ivory throne;
Then as he tarried one week more in Sughd
Khúzán and Talímán appeared before him;
He marched thence to Bukhárá while the earth
Was hidden by his troops. In rest and feasting
One week was spent, the next, lamenting sore
Past times, he donned new raiment and approached
The Fane of Fire built with its towers by Túr,
The son of Farídún. He showered gold
And silver on the archmages and flung jewels
In numbers on the Fire. Then, fain to go,
The happy Sháh went with contented heart,
And crossing the Jíhún arrived at Balkh,
Experienced in this world's salts and sours;
Then, after he had tarried there a week,
Pursued his march, and left in every city
A noble of exalted rank with troops.
The people decorated way and waste
Where'er the Sháh was passing with his host.
The world was full of sounds of flute and harp,
The people decorated all their cities,
And called for wine and harp and minstrelsy;
They poured down drachms and saffron from above,
Musk and dínárs were strewn from end to end.
Thence by the road to Nishápúr the Sháh
Conveyed the treasure, troops, and elephants.
On all the mendicants within the city,
And all that lived by toil, he lavished drachms;
Two score and fifteen purses were expended.
He went thence on the road to Dámaghán,
And all the way he scattered drachms and gold.
The monarch rested for a sennight there,
Inspecting horses, elephants, and troops,
And at the week's end went to Rai by roads
Filled everywhere with minstrel, harp, and wine.
For two weeks he did justice and gave gifts,
And with the third departed to Baghdád,
Dispatching camel-posts from Rai to go
To Kai Káús at Párs to let him know.
The heart of Sháh Káús revived thereat,
And thou hadst said: “He is another man!”
He set up in the halls his golden throne,
And decked his palace with the gauds of Chín.
They decorated all the towns and ways,
The streets, bázárs, and quarters of the city,
And all the nobles went to meet Khusrau,
The great men and the chieftains of Írán.
They put up cupolas on way and waste;
The world seemed all brocade of gold. The folk
Mixed musk and gems, and from the cupolas
Poured them upon the heads of those below.
When Kai Káús with his illustrious chiefs
Had come outside the city the young Sháh
Beheld his grandsire while a long way off,
With many a kiss upon the face and head,
And both of them shed tears of bitterness
For having lived disconsolate so long,
While Kai Káús applauded that young Sháh,
So favoured by the stars and fortunate,
And said: “Ne'er may the world, the crown of great-ness,
And throne of nobles be deprived of thee,
Because the sun hath seen not such a Sháh,
Such steeds, such mail or such a throne and helm,
Among the mighty none hath borne such toils,
Or viewed so much earth's sights and mysteries.
If Siyáwush could quit the charnel-house
He would desire the Grace that now is thine;
Since he is gone be thou the world's delight
And be thy foes uprooted, heart and soul!”
Khusrau replied: “All was by thy good fortune.
Thine Offshoot fruited, and the grass would grow
From flint for any grandson born to thee.”
His grandsire kissed him, teeth and lips, exclaiming:—
“May I be with thee ever, day and night.”
Khusrau brought rubies, gold, and emeralds,
And showered them upon the old Sháh's head
In such a manner that the jewelled throne
Had all its feet concealed with offerings.
Káús commanded: “Call the company,
And spread the board within another hall.”
The potent chiefs being seated with the Sháh
Within a rosary bedecked with gold,
Khusrau recounted all that he had seen—
Things seen and heard by none before that time.
His talk was of the sea and of Gang-dizh,
Which filled the lips of all the chiefs with sighs
For that delightful city, plain, and upland,
With meadow-lands and pleasances like lamps.
Káús was lost in wonderment at him,
And, estimating what he had achieved,
Make month and day both young. None in the world
Hath ever looked upon a Sháh like thee,
No ear hath heard these tales. Come let us pledge
This youthful star and drink to Kai Khusrau.”
He decked that rosary of golden work,
Brought wine and revellers with ruby lips,
And for a week a wave of wine o'erflowed
The goblet in the halls of Kai Káús.
The Sháh, the eighth day, oped his treasury,
And made a recompense for toils achieved.
For those great men that were with him in fight,
In feast and joy and grief, there was prepared
A robe of honour suited to their ranks,
And that the choicest in the treasury.
Then all departed, each to his own province,
Each noble followed by his famous troops.
The monarch dealt next with the common soldiers,
And from the treasury gave them one year's pay.
The grandsire and the atheling next sat
In conclave with the counsellors, and thus
Khusrau addressed Káús the Sháh, and said:—
“Of whom shall we seek guidance save of God?
We crossed the desert, spent a year at sea,
And journeyed seared of heart o'er mountain-ranges,
But nowhere on the mountain, sea, or desert
Saw any traces of Afrásiyáb.
If he shall suddenly arrive at Gang,
And gather troops, toils will confront us still,
Although the righteous Judge be on our side.”
The grandsire, giving an old man's advice,
Replied: “We two will mount our steeds and seek
In haste the temple of Ázargashasp,
Will bathe our heads and bodies, hands and feet,
As well becometh worshippers of God,
And to the almighty Maker of the world,
In this our trouble, proffer muttered praise.258
Then, as we stand in presence of the Fire,
It may be holy God will be our Guide,
To where Afrásiyáb is lying hidden.”
This counsel they agreed to act upon,
Not swerving either of them from the path,
And, mounting swift as wind upon two chargers,
Sped to the temple of Ázargashasp,
In white robes, with hearts filled by hope and fear.
Whenas they looked upon the Fire they wept,
As though they were consuming in fierce flames,
Before the Master of the sun and moon;
They called upon the Maker of the world,
And showered jewels on the archimages.
Khusrau, while bathing still his face in tears,
Let fall dínárs upon the Zandavasta,
And thus they passed a sennight in God's presence;
But think not that they used in days of yore
To worship fire, 'twas but their cynosure.
Tears from the eyes of worshippers might pour,
Yet, though thou ponder long, when thought is done,
All holy God is still the needful One.
Thus at Ázar Ábádagán the two
Remained one whole month with their retinue.
Now thus it came to pass: Afrásiyáb
Roamed to and fro foodless and slumberless,
His soul on thorns, his body but a curse,
Through constant terror of calamity.
He sought for some spot somewhere in the world
Where he might have repose of mind with health,
And found a cavern near Barda', a cavern
Upon a mountain-top concealed from men.
He saw no room for hawks to fly o'erhead,
No lion's trace, or boar's haunt, underneath.
'Twas far from cities and with water near:
Call it the cavern of Afrásiyáb.
The king in his despair took to the mountain
As being such an unfrequented spot,
And made the cave his palace and his home,
Wherein he sojourned for a certain time
With full heart and repenting of his deeds.
Whene'er a monarch is athirst for gore
His tenure of the throne is well-nigh o'er,
So when this king, this master of the state,
This lord of earth, well-starred and fortunate,
Shed blood then enemies grew manifest!
The king that never saw kings' blood is blest.
Now in those days there lived a holy man,
One of the seed of Farídún, the teacher,
A devotee of Kaian Grace and mien,
One who was girded with a royal girdle,
And used the mountain as his place of worship
As being far from pleasures and from men.
The name of that illustrious one was Húm,
A man of prayer who shunned society.
A cavern that was on the mountain-height
Far from the throng was very near to him.
It happened that one day he climbed the mountain
That he might worship God, the righteous Judge,
And as he prayed upon the top before
The all-sustaining Ruler of the world,
And worshipped, vestured in his woollen robe,
A wailing from the cavern reached his ears:—
O mighty man exalted o'er the nobles,
Whom Chín, Túrán, and all the world obeyed,
Whose stipulations ran in every place!
Yet now thy portion is a cavern here!
Where are thy mighty men and men of war?
Where are thy treasure and thy manliness,
Thy valour, courage, and sagacity?
Where are thy majesty, thy throne, and crown?
Where are thy country and thy mighty host
Now that thou dwellest in this narrow cavern,
A fugitive within this rocky hold?”
Húm as he listened to the Turkman dirge
Forwent his prayers and, going from the spot,
Said thus: “This lamentation in the night
Must be the utterance of Afrásiyáb!”
Whenas he felt assured thereof at heart
He sought the entrance of the gloomy cave,
Discerned the cavern which Afrásiyáb
Had made his place of slumber and repose,
And then advancing like a savage lion
Put off the woollen garment round his loins,
And with the lasso that he used as girdle,
And which assured him of the Worldlord's aid,
The king, as Húm approached, leapt to his feet.
They struggled long and Húm prevailed at last,
Threw down Afrásiyáb and tied his hands,
Then going from the cavern dragged him forth
With frantic efforts such as madmen use.
This is a matter that is wonder-worth;
But let whoever is a king on earth
About his own fair reputation think
Naught else—excepting only meat and drink.
Thus after all his luxury and ease,
His power, his army, and his treasuries,
Afrásiyáb to choose a cave did well;
If 'twas a net of bale how could he tell?