Šāh-nāmah - The Šahnama of Firdausi, Volume 4

á as in “water.”

í as in “pique.”

ú as in “rude.”

a as in “servant.”

i as in “sin.”

u as in “foot.”

ai as i in “time.”

au as ou in “cloud.”

g is always hard as in “give.”

kh as ch in the German “buch.”

zh as z in “azure.”

Afrásiyáb and Kai Khusrau continue the war with renewed vigour, Pírán and Gúdarz being in chief command on the Túránian and Íránian sides respectively. After some abortive negotiations the campaign opens, Húmán and Bízhan fight in single combat, and the former is slain. A general engagement between the two hosts follows, but the result is indecisive and both generals send for reinforcements. In the interval they arrange a combat of eleven champions a side in which the Íránians are completely victorious, all the Túránians, including Pírán himself, being slain with the exception of Gurwí—the executioner of Siyáwush—who is taken alive by Gív. Kai Khusrau comes up, and Lahhák and Farshídward—Pírán's two surviving brothers—abandon their army and take to flight. They are pursued and captured by Gustaham, who is himself severely wounded but is saved by Bízhan and cured by Kai Khusrau, to whom also the Túránian army capitulates, and Gurwí is put to death.

The Battle of the Twelve Rukhs or Champions is one of the most celebrated and favourite passages in the Sháhnáma from the Persian point of view, probably owing to the completeness of the Íránian triumph, the poet being determined, in spite of some evident qualms of conscience, that the Túránians should not get the best of it in any way. The English reader being unprejudiced probably would prefer a more equally balanced result.

The word Rukh is the familiar Rook of the game of chess, and is used metaphorically by the poet as an equivalent for Champion. The word really means cheek, the two sides of the chess-board where the Rooks or Castles are placed being looked upon as its two cheeks. Formerly, moreover, the Castles moved as the Queen does now, and were therefore by far the most powerful pieces or Champions of the board, the piece which we call the Queen being then restricted to close attendance on the King and to a single move, as appears from the poet's own account of the game when he gives the legend of its origin, after describing its introduction into Persia during the reign of Núshírwán.

The reader will notice that there are really only eleven combatants on each side in the battle of the champions. To make up the full number the preliminary struggle between Húmán and Bízhan must be included, and even then there are only eleven combatants on the Íránian side to twelve on the Túránian, as Bízhan fights twice.

Bízhan appears to have been a special favourite of the poet, who never loses an opportunity of putting him forward.

§ 1. The Prelude is translated in the metre of the original, which, the reader may be reminded, is uniform throughout the Sháhnáma.

§ 4. “We will not rest and sleep, my mace and I, The field of battle and Afrásiyáb.”

These lines, which form a couplet in the original, are said to have been quoted to Mahmúd on a certain occasion by one of his ministers, and to have caused the Sultán to seek too late for a reconciliation with Firdausí.⁸

The tradition goes back to within a century of the poet's death. The reading of the first hemistich of the couplet varies.

§§ 8-11. The time of the usually prudent Húmán being at hand he becomes fey, as Bahrám did on a previous occasion.^8a

§ 14. Shabáhang (Sirius) is given elsewhere as the name of Farhád's steed.^8b

Bízhan's steed was called Shabrang.^8c

Shabáhang seems used metri causá for Shabrang. One would gather from another passage, taken alone, that Bízhan used Gív's steed in the battle with Húmán.^8d

The Turkman monarch's heart, as I have heard,
Was ever vexed by greed. When he had quitted
The field where Rustam gloomed the world for him
He fared apace until he reached Khallukh,
Avoiding other kings in his disgrace,
And entered with a heart fulfilled with anguish
His palace with his prudent veterans—
Pírán and Garsíwaz, his counsellor,
And Shída, Kurákhán and Karsiyún,
Húmán, Kulbád, Rúín son of Pírán—
A warrior-crocodile—and Farshídward.
He spake with them at large of what had passed,
Recalling every circumstance, and said:—
“Since I assumed the crown of sovereignty,
And sun and moon bestowed on me their light,

Thereafter tidings reached the conquering Sháh:—
“A Turkman host hath marched upon Írán.
Afrásiyáb, that tyrant-miscreant,
Can neither rest nor slumber in his vengeance,
But fain would raise his head from its disgrace,
And from all sides hath sent forth troops to war;
He rubbeth poison on his lance's point,
If so he may turn rein upon Írán.

So thou mayst win a signet, crown, and throne;
But when thou hast achieved the sovereignty,
And pard and sheep are drinking at one trough,
Give Farámarz the signet and the crown
Together with such troops as he may choose;
Then sound the kettledrums, the horns, and pipes,
And stay not in Kashmír or in Kábul,
Because this war against Afrásiyáb
Depriveth me of provand, rest, and sleep.”
He gave the Aláns and Gharcha to Luhrásp,^14a

And said: “O hero of illustrious race!
Go with a mountain-like array. Select it
Out of the host, and lead thy seasoned horsemen
To rob the Turkmans of the breath of life.”
He bade Ashkash march forth with thirty thousand—
Impetuous Lions, brandishers of spears,
An army that was like a ravening wolf—
Toward Khárazm with mighty kettledrums,
Set up his place hard by the entering in,
And challenge Shída to the battlefield.
He gave a fourth host to Gúdarz and said:—
“O hero of a race of paladins!
Go with the great men of Írán, with Zanga,
Gurgín and Gustaham, Shídúsh, Farhád,
Kharrád and Gív, the general Guráza,
And brave Ruhhám.”

He bade them arm for war,

And hasten to the marches of Túrán.
Gúdarz, son of Kishwád, the general,
The paladins and nobles, all obeyed

Now when Gúdarz was drawing near Raibad
He chose him captains out of all the host—
A thousand valiant wielders of the spear,
Exalted and renowned, and furthermore
Ten famous horsemen of the Íránians,
All ready speakers well beseen in fight.
The chief next summoned Gív, told what the Sháh
Had said, and added this: “My prudent son,
Whose head is lifted over many a head!
I have selected for thee worthy troops—
Men who are chieftains in the provinces—
That thou mayst make a journey to Pírán
To speak to him and to receive his answer.
Thus say to him: ‘I with a host have reached
Raibad according to the Sháh's commands.
Thou knowest what thy words and deeds have been,
What peace and toil and trouble have been thine,
And how the country of Túrán hath girt,
With its illustrious kings, its loins for ill.
The glorious Farídún had cause to weep,
While in this world, for pain and misery,
Írán was full of pain, the Sháh of grief,
The moon shone not through mourning for Iraj.
Thou only of the people of Túrán
Dost pride thyself on kindness and good faith,
Though that word kindness is a lie with thee;
I see not peace and kindness in thy heart;

Gív left his father's presence, and departed
To Balkh, with all those bitter words in mind.
Alighting there he sent a messenger
Before him as directed by Gúdarz,
On that same night assembled all his troops,
And left the gates of Balkh for Wísagird,
The city where Pírán was with his powers,
And menaced the Íránian crown and throne.
The messenger in audience of Pírán
Said thus to him: “Gív hath arrived at Balkh
With nobles and with gallant warriors.”
Pírán pricked up his ears on hearing this,
While shouts rose from the warriors of the host.
He blew the trumpets and bound on the tymbals;
The horse-hoofs turned the earth to ebony
As five score and ten thousand cavaliers
Came forward dight for war from his array.

Gív, when he reached the presence of his sire,
Informed him of the answer word for word,
And said: “Array the host upon the spot
Where thou wilt fight; Pírán hath no idea
Of peace, no room for justice in his heart.
I told him all thy words, appealed to him
In all ways. When the fault proved clearly theirs
He sent the king a camel-post to say:—
‘Gúdarz and Gív are come to fight, and troops
Must be dispatched to me forthwith.’ Thereat

The brave Pírán

Led in Gív's tracks his army lion-like,
And when Gúdarz knew that the host approached
He beat the tymbals, marched out from Raibad,
And drew his army up on that broad plain
With mountains in the rear. The day's light failed
What time Pírán marched forth from Kanábad.
A hundred thousand Turkman cavaliers
Went girt for battle, mailed, and carrying
Long spears and Indian swords. The embattled hosts
Looked like two mountains with their iron helms.
Then there arose the sound of clarions,
And thou hadst said: “The mountains are astir!”
The hosts stretched from Raibad to Kanábad:
The vales and plains were black and blue with them.
The lances' heads were stars, the swords were suns,
The clouds were dust-clouds and the ground was iron.

Gúdarz arrayed the host

Like Paradise and planted in the garden
Of loyalty the cypress of revenge.

Pírán from far

Looked forth upon that host, upon that pomp
And circumstance of war, and hearts whence care
And travail ebbed. Dale, desert, mount, and waste
Were full of spears, and rein was linked to rein.
The chieftain of Túrán was sorely grieved,
And raged at fortune's gloomy sun. Thereafter,
Surveying his own host, the battlefield
Displeasured him; he saw not room to fight
Or rank his troops, and in his anger smote
His hands together, being forced to form
As best he might since he must charge the brave.
Then of his own chiefs and his men of war,
And of the warriors of Afrásiyáb,
That longed for fight, he chose him thirty thousand,
Men fit for war and armed with scimitars.
He gave the centre to Húmán—a host
Of lion-flinging, battle-loving troops.
Andarímán he summoned with Arjásp,
He gave Burjásp the chief command of both,
And put the army's left wing in their keeping
With thirty thousand gallant warriors.
The brave Lahhák and Farshídward drew up
With thirty thousand heroes of the fray
Upon the right, and earth turned black with iron.

With outposts on the river and the mountain
To threaten the Íránian general,
On whom, if he advanced beyond his lines
And ventured forward on Pírán himself,
Rúín the chief should fall, as 'twere a lion,
And take him boldly in the rear. Pírán
Placed likewise scouts upon the mountain-top
To watch by day and count the stars by night,
That if a horseman of the Íránians
Should turn his reins toward the Turkman chief,
The keeper of the watch should raise a cry,
And all the battlefield be roused thereby.

Three days and nights the opposing hosts—all men
Of name and eager for the fight—remained
Embattled face to face: thou wouldst have said:—
“No one's lip moveth!” Quoth Gúdarz: “If I
Yield to the foe my station, and advance,
They will assail my rear; I shall but grasp
The wind.”

Both night and day before the host

He stood in quest of favourable signs
From sun and moon. “Which is the auspicious hour,”
He thought, “for action when the wind of battle
Will blow and blind the Turkman horse with dust?
Then haply I may get the upper hand,
And lead the army onward like a blast.”
Pírán on his side waited anxiously
Until Gúdarz should seethe at heart with rage,
And by advancing leave his rear exposed
To those in ambush.

The fourth day, from the rearward to the centre,
Came to his father's presence with his clothes
Rent, flinging up the dust to heaven and crying:—
“Why tarriest thou thus indelently here,
My veteran sire? The fifth day now approacheth,
Yet all is peace by day and night. The sun
Beholdeth not our warriors' scimitars,
And no dust riseth to obscure the sky.
Our cavaliers are in cuirass and helm,
And yet the blood hath stirred in no man's veins!
Once, after famous Rustam, in Írán
No cavalier was equal to Gúdarz;
But ever since the battle of Pashan,
And all the carnage of that mighty field,
When at Ládan he saw so many sons
Slain and Íránian fortune overturned,
He hath been liver-stricken, all distraught,
And indisposed to see another fight.
We must consider that the man is old,
And that his head is turned toward heaven above,
As one who counteth not his followers,
But reckoneth the stars around the moon.
Know that he now is bloodless and hath grown
Too feeble for the battles of the brave.
I wonder not at veteran Gúdarz,
Whose heart is no more set upon this world,
My wonder, O my father! is at thee,
From whom fierce Lions seek accomplishment.
Two hosts are looking at thee. Rouse a little
Thy brain to action and display thy wrath.
Now when the world is warm and air serene
The army should be ordered to engage,
For when this pleasant season shall be gone,
And earth's face bound as hard as steel with frost,
What time the hand is frozen to the spear,
With war in front of us and snow behind,
What warrior will come before the host
To challenge combat on this battlefield?
While if thou art afraid of ambushes,
Then of the soldiers and the men of war

I have
The typic offspring of a paladin.
Thus said the lion to the lioness:—
‘Suppose our cub should prove a coward, we
Will own no love or consanguinity,
His dam shall be the dust, his sire the sea.’
Yet, O my son, impetuous in thy speech!
Loose not thy tongue against thy grandsire thus,
For he is wiser and experienced,
And is the leader of this noble host.
The veteran needeth not in aught a teacher.
If our own cavaliers have much to bear
The Turkmans are not very bright and fresh,
But luckless and dejected, with their eyes
Suffused with tears and livers full of blood.
This ancient veteran would have the Turkmans
Advance to battle. When they leave the hills
He will attack in force, and thou shalt see
How he will ply the whole march with his mace.
He watcheth too the aspects of the sky,
And, when the auspicious time shall come, will void
Earth's face of Turkmans.”

“Chief of paladins!”

Bízhan said, “if my glorious grandsire's purpose
Be such we need not carry Rúman mail.
I will depart, put off my fighting-gear,
And make my shrunken face rose-red with wine,
But when the chief of paladins hath need
Of me I will return in battle-weed.”

Húmán, departing toward the centre, sped
To the other wing. With his interpreter
To Faríburz, like furious elephant,
He came and shouted: “Wretch, degraded one!
Erst horsemen, elephants, and golden boots
Were thine with Káwa's flag, but on the day
Of battle thou didst yield them to the Turkmans.
Íránian chieftains hold thy manhood cheap.

“Enough! I see thee great in talk. What fighter
Hast thou e'er hurt when girded with that sword?
Contend then with that despicable mace;
On helm and breastplate it will leave no trace.”

Húmán, returning thence triumphantly,
“A Lion,” thou hadst said, “intent on mischief,”
And keen for vengeance on the noble chiefs,
Approached Gúdarz, son of Kishwád, and shouted:—
“O haughty chieftain, binder of the Dív!
I heard about thy converse with the Sháh,
And thereupon thy leading forth the host,
About the Sháh's gifts and about thy pledge
And exhortations to Pírán our leader.
An envoy reached the army of Túrán—
Gív, thy dear son, the refuge of the troops—
And afterward thou swarest by the Sháh,
By sun and moon and throne and diadem:—
‘If e'er mine eyes shall light upon Pírán
In battle I will take away his life.’
Fierce as a lion hast thou ranked thy powers
In thine anxiety to fight with us,
Then why sulk thus behind a mountain-range
As though thou wast a wretched mountain-sheep?
Thus doth the quarry in its headlong course,
When fleeing from the lion's bold pursuit,
Make for some narrow covert in the wood,
Forgetting honour in its fear for life.
Lead just for once thine army to the plains.
Why keepest thou the host behind the heights?
Was this thine understanding with Khusrau—
To make a hill thy stronghold in the war?”
Gúdarz replied: “Attend to me: 'tis right
That I should speak. That none took up thy challenge
Thou thoughtlessly imputest unto me.

The warlike chiefs

Bízhan was told: “Húmán the lion-like
Came boldly to thy grandsire, having challenged
The chiefs of both the wings. Not one went forth;
He then withdrew in anger and disdain,
First having slain four horsemen of the host,
And flung them to the ground despitefully.”

Bízhan

Said: “Paladin! a gallant youth should have
Accomplishment. If thou saw'st not my fight
Against Farúd now is the time to prove me.
I rolled up earth when fighting at Pashan.
None hath beheld my back upon the day
Of battle, and I am not fit to live
If I have not such prowess as the rest.
Now if thou dost deny me this, and say:—
‘Adventure not thyself against Húmán,’
I will complain of thee before the Sháh,
And give up belt and helm from this time forth.”
Gúdarz smiled joyfully upon the youth,
So like a noble cypress-tree, and answered:—
“How fortunate is Gív in such a son!
And may I ne'er forget the glorious day
Whereon a virtuous mother gave thee birth.
Pards' claws have proven impotent since thou
Didst stretch thy hands to fight. Thou mayest meet
Húmán, and may good fortune be thy guide.
Now in the name of God who ruleth all,
And by the triumphs of our warriors' Sháh,
Endeavour that destruction may o'erwhelm
This Áhriman, God willing, by thy hand.

Now when Bízhan had vanished from the host
Gív's heart swelled up with sorrow, and repenting
He wept blood in his anguish. See what grief
And love a son may cause! He raised his head
To heaven with full heart and with liver stricken,
And said to God: “O Judge of all the world!
Vouchsafe to look upon this wounded heart.
Oh! burn it not with anguish for Bízhan,
My feet are in the mire made by my tears!
O Thou, the Omnipotent! restore me him
Unhurt.”

He went in sorrow for the youth,

His son, and thought: “I pained him wantonly:
Why did I thwart his wishes? Should ill come
Upon him from Húmán, what good to me
Are armour, sword, and belt? I shall be left
All anguish, care, and wrath; on his account
My heart will ache, mine eyes will weep.”

He went

Like dust, approached his son upon the field,
And said: “Why dost thou grieve us thus and haste

Gív, hearing his brave son

Whose loins were girt for battle like a lion,
Dismounted, gave to him the steed and mail
Of Siyáwush, and said: “If thou art bent
On fight, and self-will lordeth thus o'er wisdom,
Mount on this rapid charger, which will roll
Earth under thee. My mail too will be useful,
Since thou wilt have to fight an Áhriman.”
When he beheld his father's steed before him
Bízhan alighted from his own like wind,
Put on the mail and made the buckles fast:
Then, having mounted on that royal charger,
Bound tight his girdle, took his mace in hand,
Chose from the army an interpreter—
One well acquainted with the Turkman tongue—
And went, like some huge lion, with his loins
Girt up to take revenge for Siyáwush.
Bízhan, or ever he approached Húmán,
Beheld an Iron Mountain—one that moved—
The desert all a-gleam with the cuirass,
And under the cuirass an Elephant.
He bade the interpreter shout to his foe:—

Húmán laughed long and loud,

And answered: “Luckless one! thou trustest much
Thy body haply weary of its head!
I will dispatch thee to the host so mauled
That Gív shall be in pain and grief for thee,
Soon will I separate thy head and trunk
Like those of many of thy gallant kin.
Thou wilt be in my clutches as a pheasant,
When borne with shrieks and weeping tears of blood
Above the cypress-branches by a hawk,
Which sucketh at the gore and teareth out
The plumes; but what availeth? Night is near.
Go sheltered by its murk and I will go
Awhile to mine own host, present myself
At daybreak to the chief, and hurry back
With head erect and dight to counter thee.”
“Begone,” Bízhan replied, “and may a ditch
Be in thy rear and Áhriman in front!

When morning breathed above the mountain-tops,
And dark night's skirt was no more seen, Húmán
Equipped himself, and told Pírán: “I challenged
Bízhan, the son of Gív, and spent the night
Preparing.”

Calling an interpreter,

He mounted on his wind-swift bay and reached
The appointed place, expectant of Bízhan,
Who with his own interpreter anon
Came dight for combat, riding Shabáhang,
Girt tightly, and advancing haughtily
Like warrior-pard to battle. He was mailed
Withal on his heroic breast, his head
Shone with his royal casque. He thus addressed
Húmán: “O light of wit! but yesternight
Thou didst bear off a souvenir from me—
Thy head! To-day my hope is that my sword
Will part it from its body in such wise
As with thy blood to turn the dust to clay.
Thou mayest take to heart an apologue:

Húmán, distressed and raven-black with pain,
Advanced. All wounded as they were both came
Like pards to fight again, strove mightily,
And first one, then the other, touched the ground.
They put forth all their strength and artifice
Until high heaven's own artifice was seen,
For, though Húmán was mightier, all prowess
Is but defect in him whose sun is set.
Bízhan put forth his hands like leopard's claws
To catch upon Húmán where'er he could;
His left hand gripped his foeman's neck, the right
His foeman's thigh, he bent that mighty Camel,
Raised him aloft, and flung him to the ground;
Then holding down Húmán, and drawing forth
A dagger, swift as wind beheaded him,
And flung away his carcase like a dragon's.
Húmán lay rolled in dust, the waste ran blood.
Bízhan surveyed that elephantine form,
Fall'n like a stately cypress in a meadow,

On the other side Pírán all pain and wrath,
With heart grief-stricken and with eyes all tears,
Dispatched a messenger to Nastíhan
To say: “O famous warrior, good at need!
Make ready to engage and dally not
O'er this our brother's blood, attack the Íránians
By night and make earth a Jíhún with gore.
Lead forth ten thousand cavaliers of proof,
Armed for the fray. Thou mayst avenge Húmán,
And bring our foemen's heads between the shears.”

Two-thirds of night

Passed, then the plain shook with the tramp of horse-men—
The Turkmans eager to exalt their necks
By that emprise. As Nastíhan led on
His vengeful powers toward the Íránian host
He came, as dawn was breaking, to a place
Where from the look-out the Íránian watchman
Saw him, and shouted to the scouts: “A force
Is on us from Túrán!”

They lightly sped

Toward Gúdarz to say: “A host approacheth
As 'twere a gliding stream; thou wouldest say:—
‘They have not speaking tongues.’ The general knoweth
How men are wont to make a night-attack.”
Gúdarz said to the troops: “Be vigilant
And bright of heart, let every ear be open
To any indication of the foe.”
With that he called the son of Gív—Bízhan,
The swordsman and heroic paladin—
And said: “Success and fortune are thine own,
The hearts of foes are shivered at thy name.
Take whom thou needest of my famous troops,
Go lion-like, receive the foemen's charge,
And by thy courage bring the heavens down.”
Bízhan chose out a thousand cavaliers,
And, when the two hosts met, they drew their maces;
Murk gathered overhead wherefrom dark dust
Descending veiled the Turkman soldiers' eyes.
Bízhan, when he perceived the Turkman host
Thus hidden, bade his warriors string their bows.

He blew the trumpets,

Bound on the drums, and with the heaven murky,
The earth like ebon, sun and moon obscured,
Marched from Mount Kanábad. Gúdarz too sounded
His clarions, marched, and took up his position.
Full in the centre, guarded by blue falchions,
Was Káwa's flag, while chiefs intent on strife
Stood ready with the lance and ox-head mace.
As morning dawned the hosts advanced, and battled
Till daylight failed, then both, still fit for fight
And eager for revenge, returned to camp.
The Íránian general occupied Raíbad,
And could not rest for his anxiety.
“A mighty battle have we fought to-day,”
He said, “and slain the leaders of the foe,
And now methinketh that Pírán will send
His king a cameleer and ask for succours
In this campaign against me, and I now
Will send intelligence to Kai Khusrau.”

He embraced Hajír,

Who came out from his glorious father's presence
And, calling from the host two of his kindred,
And mounting them upon swift-footed steeds,
Left his sire's camp-enclosure. With relays
Of horses for each stage they ate, reposed,
And slept upon their steeds both day and night,
And on the seventh day approached the Sháh.
One went to tell Khusrau, who sent Shammákh
With many haughty chiefs to welcome them.
“O lion-taking son of paladins!”
Shammákh said, “what hath chanced that thou hast
come
Thus all unlooked for to the worldlord's court?”
Then at the Sháh's command they raised the curtain,
And let Hajír ride through, who, when the Sháh
Perceived him, rubbed his visage in the dust.
Khusrau much greeted him, then made him sit
Beside the throne, and asked about Gúdarz,
The leaders, and the rest. The prudent youth
Of ardent soul gave him the great men's greetings,
Informed him fully of the host's affairs,
Then gave the letter of the paladin.

The Sháh then called a wise scribe and dispatched
A fair reply yet harsh in some regards.
He lauded first the paladin and said:—
“Live evermore and may thy soul be bright!
Blest be the prudent captain of the host,
The heedful and discerning warrior,

Now, when Hajír had left the presence, Khusrau

News of the Sháh's proceedings reached Pírán
And filled his heart with terror; he took refuge
In knavery, deceit, and artifice,
And then—his sole resource—he bade a scribe
Indite a letter to the paladin,
Wherein he proffered first great praise to God—
His refuge from the potent Dív—then said:—
“In public and in private my one prayer
To God, the All-ruler of the world, is this—
To ban this scene of strife between our hosts.
If it be thou, Gúdarz! that hast desired
Thus to fulfil the world with thy revenge,
Thy lust is sated. Say, what wouldst thou more?
Behold how many of my gallant Hearts,
Of mine own nearest kindred and my Lions,
Hast thou flung—headless trunks—upon the dust!
Hast thou no reverence, no fear of God?
From love and wisdom thou hast turned thy face,
And now that thou hast gained thine end 'tis time
For thee to sicken of revenge and be not
Henceforward bold in bloodshed. Do thou mark

Gúdarz upon the eighth day called a scribe,
And bade him write the answer, planting thus
Another tree of feud. He offered praise
To God, then point by point made this response:—
“Thy letter I have read and understand

The monarch bade the messenger return
To brave Pírán, that man of prosperous counsels,
With this reply: “O warrior famed and true!
Since thy pure mother bare thee thou hast made
Thyself my shield. Thou standest first with me,
And rankest o'er the other paladins,

Then wailing bitterly

He prayed: “O glorious and almighty Judge!
If on this battlefield Afrásiyáb,
With other nobles of the Turkman host,
Shall perish in the struggle, and the head
Of all our fortunes shall be overthrown
When Kai Khusrau shall come forth from Írán
For vengeance, and the world be turned to him,

Now when the sun spread out its gold brocade
The ocean of the plain of battle heaved,
A war-cry rose from both contending hosts,
And earth shook underneath the horses' hoofs;
On every side the troops advanced in force,
And all the plains and hills were clad in mail.
Both chieftains, both like leopards, mustered all
Their powers for that encounter. Arrows showered
Like rain descending from a darksome cloud.
The world was like a winter's night⁸¹

for murk,
But what a murk! Its rain was shafts and swords!
The earth was iron with the horses' hoofs,
The warriors' breasts and hands were red with gore.
So many headless corpses strewed the field,
That there remained no longer room to turn,
Or passage for the horses' feet; the earth
Was tulip-hued, the air like indigo,
And waves ran high upon that sea of blood.
Both chiefs said: “If our warriors thus maintain
The fight by nightfall nothing will be left
Save heaven, the world, and God!”

Now when Pírán

Saw how the battle went he bade Lahhák
And Farshídward: “Dispose in three divisions
What troops ye have efficient to restore
The fight, and let the shrewdest of the three
Compose our rear while ye march to our flanks.”

Then to Bízhan

He said: “O lion-man! a rending Tiger
Art thou upon the battle-day, and now
Thy lion-manhood will bestead thee well,
For thou must fight the foe. Our army's hopes
Are set on thee and thou must take the field.
Spare not the enemy, expose thyself,
The time for battle and revenge hath come.
Go to the centre and engage Pírán,
For all his country hath its stay in him,
And he will burst his skin at sight of thee.
If thou shalt conquer him our work is done;
May God and thy good fortune be thine aid.
Then will our soldiers rest from toil and stress,
Our world-possessing Sháh will be rejoiced,
Thou wilt obtain much treasure and much goods,
And thy prosperity will be assured;

When, from the rear, Rúín, son of Pírán,
Observed the onset with its cloud of dust
He issued from the mighty Turkman host
With other nobles, as they had been wolves,
And like a stout pard grappled with the foe.
He struggled but prevailed not in the strife;
Then flung away his Indian scimitar,
And showed his back despairing of the battle.
Pírán the chief with none of his own kin
Stayed at his post amazed. Gív, seeing him,
Wheeled to attack, and of the body-guard
Speared four and flung them vilely to the ground.
Pírán, the son of Wísa, strung his bow,
And showered arrows on his enemy,
While bold Gív held his shield above his head,
And with his spear came charging like a wolf,
But, when he sought to fall upon Pírán,

At his words

The chieftains' hearts breathed vengeance. As they
fared
They said: “If we have not unsullied souls
We need not be in terror for our bodies.
Bind we our skirts together,⁸⁵

ne'er must we
Relax our girdles from this strife.”

They went,

Lahhák and Farshídward, to challenge Gív,
And brave Lahhák thrust at his girdle, hoping
To bring him from his saddle headlong down.
The coat of mail was shivered by the shock
Yet Gív lost not his stirrups, and his spear
Pierced the swift charger of Lahhák. It fell
In agony. Lahhák regained his feet
While Farshídward rode up and with his sword
Struck at the spear of Gív as quick as wind,
Clave it in twain and gloried in the stroke.
Gív, when he saw the blow of Farshídward,
Drew from his girdle his huge mace and bellowed
Like some fierce-breathing dragon. With one blow
He sent the falchion from his foeman's hand,
Struck him another blow upon the neck,
And rained a fiery shower upon his body,
Which made his blood from mouth to liver tingle,
Took all his strength away and dazed his head.
While Gív was thus engaged Lahhák bestrode
As rapidly as smoke a wind-foot steed,
And those two warriors with mace and spear
All lion-like attacked Gív, many a blow
Rained on him from those valiant chieftains' maces,

Upon Gív's right

Guráza with a mace of Rúman steel
Came dust-swift to encounter Farshídward.
He rode a charger camel-like in bulk,
And aimed a blow; the wary Turkman ducked,
And with his spear struck at Guráza's belt,
But failed to pierce the mail. Then sword in hand
Bízhan came lion-like to help Guráza,
And smote upon the helmet Farshídward,
Whose prowess rent the earth. Bízhan then sought
To clutch his foeman's helm with his right hand;
His foeman stooped; Bízhan's attempt was foiled.
Behind Bízhan came Gustaham in haste,
And other nobles of Írán withal
Nigh the Túránian host, with anxious hearts
And eager for the fight. Andarímán
Came rushing dust-like to encounter them,
And let fly with the mace at Gustaham
To break his ribs; he parried with his sword,
Which snapped in twain and filled his heart with
fear.
Hajír came up to aid those warriors,
And showered arrows on Andarímán,

Now, when earth's face turned ebon, from both hosts
The drums and trumpets sounded, and the drummers
Upon their elephants made haste to leave
The scene of action. Both the hosts agreed:—
“Since night hath fallen we will quit the field,
And in the morning choose us valiant men,
Men that would send dust from the ocean's depths,
Men of renown and eager for the fray,
To meet in single combat; thus our troops
Will be relieved and shed no more the blood
Of guiltless folk.”

This settled, they withdrew,

And thought that they had made the long road short.
The two chiefs, both perturbed at that last fight,
Turned from the strife, one toward Mount Kanábad,
The other toward Raibad. Gúdarz sent out
His scouts. The troops were galled by mail and helm,
Their hands and falchions were adrip with blood;
They loosed the fastenings, put off mail and casque,

“My son!”

Gúdarz replied, “my hand will take his life
Assuredly, and in God's strength shall I
Avenge on him my seventy sons beloved.”
Gúdarz then viewed the host and saw it worn
With bloodshed, stress of war, and combating,
And, grieved to see his noble folk thus wan,
Dismissed them to recruit. They went their ways,
And at the dawn returned equipped and vengeful.
They greeted him: “Famed paladin of earth!
Hast risen refreshed by sleep? Dost purpose fight?”
He answered: “Noble and illustrious chiefs!
Be instant, all of you! by night and day
In blessings on the Maker, for till now
The war hath met our wishes. Many a marvel
Have I experienced, and known this world

Gustaham

Received the proffered counsels and, resolved
To act with loyalty, this answer gave:—
“I will obey thy bidding like a slave.”

Since that last fight disastrous to Túrán
The troops were sorry and dispirited,
Sons with wan cheeks lamented for their sires,
And brothers were in grief for brothers slain;
Thus were they full of mourning and in dudgeon:
High heaven loured above them. When Pírán
Perceived that all his host was as a flock
Rent by a ravening wolf he called the chiefs,
And spake at large: “Experienced warriors,
Worn, young and old alike, with combating!
What majesty, what rank and dignity,
Are yours in presence of Afrásiyáb!
Ye have a name for glory and success,
Ye had the world at will, but now, because
Defeated once, ye will not fight at all!
Know that if we retreat in cowardice
The lusty leaders of Írán will come
With massive maces in pursuit, and lord
And liege see none of us alive again.
Now put away these terrors from your hearts,
And bear your griefs with equanimity.
There is a saying current with archmages:—
‘It is the part of God to conquer always.’

At once the warriors answered:—

“O paladin of great Afrásiyáb!
Though from of old thou hast had throne and treasure
Still hast thou chosen travail for our sakes,
Girt up thy loins before us like a slave,
And givest son and brother to be slain.
Why then should we, thy slaves, avert our heads?”
They spake and left the presence of Pírán,
And every one made ready for the fray.
They spent the livelong night in taking order
For all things as their prudent chief had bidden.
At dawn the sound of trump and pipe arose
Before his tent-enclosure, and the chiefs
Were in the saddle with their bows and arrows.
Thou wouldst have said: “Earth maketh for itself
An iron veil of horseshoes.” Then Pírán

Pírán perceived Gúdarz and held a parley.
“Wise paladin,” he said, “how many souls
Thou torturest! But will it benefit
The soul of Siyáwush to cause Túrán
To reek? His soul is with the good in heaven;
Now that he resteth why not rest thyself?
Two armies hast thou flung upon each other
Like elephants beheaded. All the troops
Of two realms have been slaughtered, and 'tis time
For thee to quit the battlefield. The world
Is void of men. We battle coldly. Why
Must thou destroy the guiltless? Let us make

Gúdarz, on hearing, marked

How fortune darkened all Pírán's endeavours,
First offered praises to the Omnipotent,
Then, calling to his mind the noble Sháh,
Made answer: “I have heard thee, famous chief!
Throughout. In that way did Afrásiyáb
Get profit from the blood of Siyáwush—
Speak out, turn not away—when they cut off
His head as 'twere a sheep's what time his heart
Was full, his liver pierced? Afrásiyáb
Thereafter sent a cry up from Írán
With all his slaying, raiding, strife, and turmoil.⁹⁶

'Twas on thine oath that Siyáwush relied,
And lightly didst thou give him to the wind;
Then when my son approached thee afterward
Thou didst reject my counsel, and make ready
In fiery haste for war. My prayer hath been,
Both publicly and privily, to Him,
Who ruleth o'er the world, that I some day
Might meet thee in the fight; and now that thou
Hast come there is no room for tarrying,
So let us twain, with our hoar heads, contend
Upon this battlefield. Do thou now choose
A band of champions to encounter mine,
Experienced chiefs with maces, swords, and lances,

The Turkman chief

Made ready and chose out ten cavaliers,
Who sped forth from the centre to the place
Of combat, where no eyes were watching them.
This was the compact made between the chiefs—
That every Turkman warrior should encounter
One from Írán. They matched Gív with Gurwí
As peers in strength and pluck—Gurwí, the son
Of Zira, whom of all the foe the Sháh
Most loathed, Gurwí who, seizing by the beard
The spotless Siyáwush, beheaded him.
With Faríburz, the son of Kai Káús,
Kulbád, the son of Wísa, hastened out,
Ruhhám, son of Gúdarz, went with Bármán⁹⁷

In company but as antagonists,
Guráza went with Siyámak, fierce Lion
With snorting Crocodile. The old Gurgín,
A Lion too, went with Andarímán.
Rúín the brave, who robbed the world of lustre
In fight, went with Bízhan, the son of Gív,
Akhást with Zanga, son of Sháwarán,
And Barta with Kuhram, the good at need,
While Furúhil came forth with Zangula
With all speed from the centre of the host.
Hajír and Sipahram, as 'twere two dívs,
Sent up the war-cry on the battlefield.
Gúdarz, son of Kishwád, paired with Pírán,
And all were ready for revenge and strife.
The generals, as much opposed by duty
As by religion, were athirst for blood,
And sware together not to quit the field

First, Faríburz, that gallant warrior,
Came speeding lion-like and, having strung
His bow, attacked Kulbád, the son of Wísa.
He wheeled about but, since his arrows failed,
Unsheathed with his right hand his glittering sword,
And clave his foeman's body to the waist.
Alighting he undid his royal lasso,
Secured Kulbád upon his charger's back,
And, having loosed the fastenings of his mail,
Rode to the hill triumphantly, exclaiming:—
“Oh! may our leader be victorious,
And all our Sháh's foes liver-stricken thus!”

Next there went out Gurwí, the son of Zira—
A valiant dív—with Gív, son of Gúdarz.
They fought long with their spears and mixed the dust
With blood till with the horsemen's combating
Their spearheads dropped affrighted at the fray.
They took their bows and arrows and fought on.

Next Siyámak of the Túránian host
Went with Guráza to the battlefield,
Both spear in hand and both with cries like those
Of maddened elephants. The chiefs were all
Wrath, rancour, and revenge. Anon they took
Their massive maces, raged like warrior-lions,
And smote each other on the head. Their tongues
Were cracked with thirst, they closed in furious fight,
Alighted, clutched, and raised the dust of strife.
Guráza put his hands forth like a lion,
And as a storm-blast bent his foeman down,
Then dashed him to the ground with violence
That brake his bones; he yielded up the ghost.

The fourth fight—Furúhil's with Zangula—
Was that of combatants like lions loose.
In truth there was no warrior in Írán
To match in archery with Furúhil,
Who, seeing that grim Turkman from afar,
Strung up his bow and, bending it, began
To shower shafts on Zangula, employing
The horsemen's ambuscade. One poplar arrow,
Which flew with wind-like swiftness, struck his thigh,
Transfixing horse and rider. The fleet steed
Came to the ground headforemost with the smart,
Unseating Zangula whose face was wan;
His head sank and he yielded up the ghost;
Full surely he was born for evil days.
Then Furúhil leaped down, beheaded him,
Stripped off the Rúman armour that he wore,
And made his head fast to the saddle-straps,
Then took with him the steed of Zangula,
And scaled the hill, as he had been a leopard,
With breast and hand and sword all drenched with gore.
He raised the glorious flag, glad-hearted he
At having gained his end triumphantly.

It was Ruhhám, son of Gúdarz, that made
The fifth assay, and fought against Bármán.

In the sixth fight—Bízhan, the son of Gív,
Against Rúín—the warriors rushed forth,
Strung up their bows and wheeled to left and right,
But shot in vain. Then, brazen mace in hand,
Bízhan manœuvred for the vantage-ground,
And, with a rush earth-rending, smote Rúín
Upon the head; his helm ran brains and blood.
There on the saddle gave he up sweet life,
While calling on Pírán, the son of Wísa,

Hajír rushed seventh from among the heroes—
A famous warrior and noble horseman—
While Sipahram, Afrásiyáb's own kinsman,
A hero high in rank and estimation,
Essayed fight with the offspring of Gúdarz—
A cavalier unequalled in the host.
They went upon the ground, dark dust-clouds rose,
They fought together with their scimitars,
And made sparks stream from iron. Lion-like
The brave Hajír confronted Sipahram
Right manfully and, in the Maker's name,
And by the fortune of the youthful monarch,
Struck with his sword the helmet of his foe
Upon the crest, and death came then and there.
The Turkman tumbled headlong from his steed
In miserable plight and drenched with blood.

Gurgín was eighth and he went out to fight
Andarímán, one of the Turkman host.
Experienced both and veteran they went
And chose a battlefield. They wheeled with spears.
When these broke down they took their bows, and arrows
Rained while the chiefs held up their wolf-skin shields
To save their faces. Arrows showered like hail
On wolf-skin buckler, helm, and casque. At length
Gurgín shot at Andarímán a shaft
That pinned the Rúman helmet to his head,
And as the cavalier reeled with the smart,
Gurgín shot yet another, pierced his side,
And brought the blood-drops from his eyes with anguish.
Gurgín gat down like wind, took his foe's head,
And strapped it to the saddle. Having mounted
He led the Turkman's charger, and then scaled
In haste the hill, his bow slung on his arm,
By God's strength who had sheltered him from hurt,
And the victorious fortune of the Sháh—
The world-lord. Thus returned triumphantly
He set the heart-illuming flag on high.

Tenth went forth Zanga, son of Sháwarán,
Armed from the warriors and mighty men,
And his opponent chanced to be Akhást,
Whom none had ever worsted in the fight.
Both took their massive maces, and their strife
Surpassed all bounds. At length both were o'ercome
With their belabourings. Their Arabs jibbed;
Thou wouldst have said: “They have no pulses left.”
The warriors when the sun began to sink,
And when the desert was a-glow like iron,
Were so exhausted that thou wouldst have said:—
“They cannot stir a step.” “Our livers now,”

Whenas the ninth hour of the day had passed
There was no Turkman left on that broad plain,
Their lives had been dissevered by the sword.
Thou wouldst have said: “The world is pitiless!
For one, whom it is tending with all care,
And dowering with days, it will prepare
A night-surprise amid his happiness,
And bring upon him obloquy and stress.
Both first and last we are the wind's possession,
We ask for justice and behold oppression!”
Whenas the Turkmans in those luckless combats
Had struggled fruitlessly Pírán descried

“Now God forbid!”

Pírán replied, “God grant that no such ill
Befall my latter end and I survive.
To beg my life were heaviness indeed!
Born was I in the world for death, and I
Thus fighting put my neck within thy power.
A saying have I heard among the great:—
‘In this fair world, though many days be past,
Inevitable death will come at last.’
Herein I have no reason to complain.”
Gúdarz rode round the hill and grieved to find
No road. He lighted, took his shield and went,
Like those in quest of quarry, up the mount,
His shield before him and a dart in hand.
Pírán descried him, leaped up on the crest,
And, arrow-fashion, hurled a javelin
Which struck the ancient chieftain on the arm.
Gúdarz thus wounded by Pírán's hand raged
For vengeance and sped forth a dart. It hit
Pírán upon the breast, crashed through his mail,
Transfixed his liver, and came out behind.
Pírán reeled and his head became distraught;

Meanwhile the vengeful warriors of Írán
Descended from the hill toward the host,
Their slain opponents bound upon their saddles
According to the usages of war;
But since the paladin was not with them
A cry ascended both from old and young:—

Began to press methought: ‘Afrásiyáb
Will lead his host to this side of the river.
His troops have been at rest from strife and toil
While mine are spent with hurry.’ So I sent
A prudent man and gave the Sháh much counsel.
I said: ‘If now the Turkman king shall bring
His host we cannot hold our ground.’ Methought:—
‘Khusrau will hasten to this battlefield,
And when we take the bodies of the slain
Upon this scene of vengeance to the Sháh,
Just as ye have them now upon the saddles,
He will rejoice and we shall be advanced,
Because this feud of the Íránians
And Turkmans came from these now passed away.’”
All praised him: “Ne'er may earth and time lack
thee.
Whate'er we gain we gain it from thy words,
And sun and moon take lustre from thy looks.”
They went and bore the slain just as they were,
But forced Gurwí to walk, a lasso bound
His hands, a halter was about his neck.
As soon as they approached the main encampment
The troops turned out to meet their general
With Gustaham the Lion leading them.
He came before the gallant paladin,
Then kissed the ground and offered praise. He said:—
“Behold thine army safe and sound. As thou
Committed'st it to me so I restore it.”

The Turkman watch upon Mount Kanábad
Beheld that wonder and came in apace;
He said: “Unless mine eyes are dim, unless
This sight of mine be dazed exceedingly,
God hath wrought havoc on the Turkmans, all
Their toils have turned to dust. The Íránians
Have come down shouting from their height, and each
With flag in hand. That of Pírán the chief,
I see, is down, his body drenched in gore,
While as for those ten warriors who went hence
With him, I see them far away o'erthrown,
And flung with bloody bodies o'er their steeds.

When they called to mind

Pírán's last charge to them they acted not
Upon their own wild words, for he had said
To Farshídward, when challenging Gúdarz:—
“If I am slain abide not with the host,
For earth will prove too narrow for our nobles
When I am gone, and none of wits be left
Of Wísa's race, and if the Íránians
Slay us and bring Írán our trunkless heads
Our army will ask quarter of Gúdarz;
But do not ye demean yourselves so much:
Make for the waste and ye may yet survive.”

Now, when the host thus answered, those two chiefs—
Lahhák and Farshídward—arose. They knew:—
“'Tis not their time for war, the troops are right:—
A flock without a shepherd perisheth.”
They bade the rest farewell and then they took
The longsome desert route, with flag in hand,
With hearts all grief and eyes all tears of blood.
They journeyed with ten noble cavaliers—
Brave warriors and ready for the fray.
Upon the road were horsemen of Írán—
An outpost-party and a gallant one.
The Turkmans charged, the outpost held its ground,
Strife rose unlooked for, earth grew tulip-like
With blood. Of those Íránians eight were slain—
Brave men and Lions on the day of battle—
While of the Turkmans none escaped with life
Except those two illustrious warriors,
Who went—a gallant pair—upon their way,
Like Lions, on their journey through the waste.
Then from the look-out cried the Íránian watch:—
“Ye nobles and ye gallant fighting men!
Two chieftains with ten noble cavaliers
Have issued from among the Turkman host;
They have engaged our outpost and have mixed

Then Gustaham put on his mail, farewelled
Such warriors as he saw, and hurried forth
To fight those two proud Turkmans, while the troops
Among themselves said: “Evil will befall him.”

On hearing this, Gúdarz,

Perceiving his distress, mused much and long,
Took the same view and told the warriors:—
“Whoever is in quest of name and rank,
Let him go after Gustaham with speed
To give him aid against his enemies.”
None of the company returned an answer,
None cared for him and none was rested yet.

Now Gustaham meanwhile was drawing nigh
The spot. His charger smelt the other steeds,
Began to neigh, and hurried on apace.
The charger of Lahhák by that same token
Neighed back again as though it had been mad,
While Farshídward came rushing to Lahhák,
And roused him from sweet slumber, saying thus:—
“Bestir thee from thy pleasant sleep and slay
The head of evil fortune like a man,
Because a sage once spake this weighty saw:—
‘Whenas the lion from the wolf shall flee
Let not the wolf go in pursuit, for he
Will bring upon himself calamity.’
Ho! rouse thee, for an army from Írán
Hath cut us off!”

Both mounted, left the meadow,

And scanned the plain to see what course to take.

Now when the world grew radiant with the sun
Bízhan arrived and roamed the mead to find
Some trace of his lost comrade. He descried
Far off a dun steed like one ridden post.
It pranced and grazed, like leopards at their ease,
With saddle underneath and broken reins.
Bízhan descried the saddle upside down,
The stirrups and the lasso drenched with blood,
A sight whereat his wits abandoned him,
And like a roaring lion's was his cry.
Thus said he: “O my comrade kind and good!
Where hast thou fallen in the pasturage?

The wounded man

Was roused and breathing hard replied: “Good friend!
Grieve not for me; thy pain is worse to me
Than mine own death. Re-helm my wounded head,
And make some shift to bear me to the Sháh.
God grant that I may live to look on him,
And then I shall not fear the approach of death,
For none of us may couch save in the dust.

The day was nine hours old, the sun was leaving
The vault of heaven, what time Khusrau, the world-lord,
Approached in state his army on the field.
The chiefs, the nobles, and the warriors
All went afoot to welcome him, the sages
Blessed him and said: “Hail, monarch and high
priest!”
Khusrau was mounted that the troops might see him,
And in return saluted, saying thus:—
“May earth be ever peopled with the brave.”
Behind the army like a mountain came
Gúdarz, such was the custom, with his comrades—
These same ten champions, who upon the field
Of fight had sent the dust up from their foe—

He bade disjoint

Gurwí with cords and fling into a stream,
First cutting off, as 'twere a sheep's, the head.
“So must I treat Afrásiyáb,” he said.

The Sháh abode upon the battlefield
Awhile, employed upon the host's affairs,
Bestowing kingdoms, crowns, and robes of honour
On those that had deserved them; Ispahán,
The crown of greatness, and the throne of chiefs,

Thereon

The watchful Sháh forgave them their misdeeds
Completely, and dispersed them out of hand
In various settlements throughout the land.

Thereafter from the look-out came a cry:—
“The dust of horse hath risen from the way;
I see afar three steeds, each with a corpse
Bound wretchedly upon it, and therewith
One cavalier.”

The Iránian chieftains all

Turned to the road their eyes in wonder, asking:—
“Who is this warrior of Irán that cometh
So hardily across the battlefield?”
Anon Bízhan came riding up; his bow
Hung on his arm; Lahhák and Farshídward
Were flung across two steeds, all blood and dust,
While on another steed was Gustaham,
In pain and grief, borne in a Turkman's arms.
Bízhan drew nigher still. He laid his face
Upon the ground and kissed it when he saw
His monarch's head and crown and lofty throne.
Khusrau joyed at the sight of him and asked:—
“O lion-man! how went it on the field?”
Bízhan then told the tale of Gustaham,
Lahhák, and valiant Farshídward, the plight

Now that the battles of Pírán are told,
The combatings of Kai Khusrau unfold,
And marshal, poet! in thine expert brain
The choicest words to tell the vengeance ta'en
By that impetuous Sháh—the wreak that he
Sought on Afrásiyáb laboriously.

The poet begins with an elaborate prelude wherein he eulogizes Mahmúd and then continues his story of the reign as follows: Kai Khusrau and Afrásiyáb both resolve to carry on the war with vigour. Their preparations are described. The armies meet, fruitless parleys follow, Shída challenges Kai Khusrau to single combat and is slain. A general engagement ensues, Afrásiyáb is defeated and takes refuge in Gang-bihisht, which is stormed by Kai Khusrau. Afrásiyáb escapes and, helped by the Khán and the Faghfúr, renews the struggle, is again defeated, flees to Gang-dizh, whither he is pursued by Kai Khusrau, again escapes, becomes a fugitive, and finally takes refuge in a cave, where he is made prisoner by the hermit Húm and put to death with his brother Garsíwaz by Kai Khusrau. Kai Káús dies. Kai Khusrau falls into melancholy, persists in giving up the throne, appoints Luhrásp to be his successor, rides with his paladins into the mountains, and disappears. Those who remain with him till the end are lost in the snow. Luhrásp becomes Sháh.

On this Part as a whole see Vol. III., p. 8.

§ 1. See Vol. I., p. 30 seq.

§§ 2 and 3. It will be noticed that in this part of the poem several names reappear that have been long absent from its pages, e.g. Ighríras and Káran. The son of Tús is also mentioned, and it is probable that the Zarásp slain by Farúd in Part I. of this reign is intended. Such names are the common property of different and often inconsistent traditions.

Afrásiyáb's son Shída is also called Pashang. We keep invariably to the former name, as there are other Pashangs—the father of Afrásiyáb and the father of Minúchihr.

§ 12. Afrásiyáb's brother, whose head Kai Khusrau sends to Kai Káús, is apparently the Ighríras mentioned on p. 156. According to another tradition Afrásiyáb had slain his brother Ighríras long before for treachery.¹³⁶

§§ 13, 31, 36, 38. In these and other sections the reader will note that there are two Gangs—Gang-bihisht, in the original Bihisht-i-Gang, and Gang-dizh—due to the existence of variants of the same legend. For Gang-dizh see Vol. II., p. 189.

Mount Ispurúz was the scene of the defeat of Kai Káús by the White Dív,^136a

and therefore must be identified with some mountain of the Alburz range bordering Mázandarán, while the sea crossed by Afrásiyáb in his flight from Kai Khusrau can be no other than the Caspian, yet Kai Khusrau is described as sailing from and returning to the sea-shore of Makrán, i.e. Balúchistán, so that we may have here a survival of the old cosmogony (Vol. I., p. 71). The sea crossed by Afrásiyáb and Kai Khusrau is called “the water of Zirih,” and this expression, like the corresponding one in the account of Kai Káús' expedition to Barbaristán, is merely equiva-ent to “sea.”^136b

§§ 40-44. The old epic story of the feud that began with the murder of Íraj ends appropriately in Ázarbáiján. In Firdausí's version Kai Khusrau and Kai Káús, in despair of catching Afrásiyáb after his flight from Gang-dizh, go on a pilgrimage to the temple of Ázargashasp and pray that he may be delivered into their hands. In the meantime Afrásiyáb has taken refuge in a cave near lake Khanjast^136c

(Urumiah) in Ázarbáiján, making it, as the poet says, his palace and his home. Here he is overheard bewailing himself and is captured by the hermit Húm, but escapes by a subterfuge and plunges into the lake. Gúdarz and Gív happen to be passing at the time, and the former is said to have recalled an old story to mind when Húm informs them of the state of affairs. They communicate with Kai Khusrau and Kai Káús, Afrásiyáb is induced to come forth from the water by a stratagem, and is put to death with his brother Garsíwaz. Most of these incidents appear in the older authorities but, as Darmesteter has pointed out,^136d

not in the connexion in which they appear in the Sháhnáma. In these the story may be pieced together thus: Afrásiyáb, we are told, made his residence in Mount Bakyír.^136e

We learn from the Aogemaidé—a Pahlaví discourse on death—that this palace was an iron one, underground, a thousand times the height of a man, and with a hundred columns. In that palace he made the stars, the moon, and the sun go round, making the light of day. In that palace he did everything at his pleasure, and lived the happiest life, but with all his strength and witchcraft could not escape Astivihád (the demon of death).¹³⁷

Here too he sacrificed a hundred male horses, a thousand oxen and ten thousand lambs that he might seize the Glory that was in the sea Vouru-Kasha and belonged to the Aryan people.^137a

Three times he sought to seize it in the sea Vouru-Kasha, stripping himself naked in his desire to seize that Glory that belongs to the Aryan nations, born and unborn, and to the holy Zarathustra. But the Glory escaped, the Glory fled away, the Glory changed its seat. Then the most crafty Turanian Frangrasyan (Afrásiyáb) rushed out of the sea Vouru-Kasha, thinking evil thoughts: “I have not been able to conquer the Glory.”^137b

We read farther how the gallant Husravah (Khusrau) offered up a sacrifice behind the Kaékasta lake, the deep lake of salt waters. He begged a boon saying: “Grant me this, O great Ashi Vanguhi! that I may kill the Turanian murderer, Frangrasyan, behind the Kaékasta lake, the deep lake of salt waters, to avenge the murder of my father Syávarshána (Siyáwush), a man, and of Aghraératha (Ighríras), a semi-man.” The great Ashi Vanguhi ran and came to his side. The gallant Husravah, he who united the Aryan nations into one kingdom, obtained that boon.^137c

So that … the lord Kavi Husravah prevailed over all; he put in bonds Frangrasyan and Keresavazda (Garsíwaz).^137d

Of the god Haoma (the hermit Húm of the Sháhnáma) we read that he offered sacrifice, Haoma, the enlivening, the healing, the beautiful, the lordly, with golden eyes, upon the highest height of the Haraiti Bareza. He begged … a boon, saying: “Grant me this boon, O good, most beneficent Drváspa! that I may bind the Turanian murderer, Frangrasyan, that I may drag him bound … unto king Husravah, that king Husravah may kill him, behind the Kaékasta lake, the deep lake of salt waters, to avenge the murder of his father Syávarshána, a man, and of Aghraératha, a semi-man.” The powerful Drváspa, made by Mazda, the holy Drváspa, the maintainer, granted him that boon, as he was offering up libations, giving gifts, sacrificing, and entreating that she would give him that boon.^137e

Elsewhere we read: “Quick, cut off then Haoma's portion, gift of flesh for doughty Haoma! Heed lest Haoma bind thee fettered, as he bound the fell Turanian Frangrasyan (the murderous robber) fast in iron close-surrounded in the mid-third of this earth!”¹³⁸

The original version of the story therefore would seem to have been that Afrásiyáb built himself an underground palace where he offered sacrifice to obtain the Glory of the Íránian race, but vainly. He then attempted three times to seize it by force and again failed. Haoma then captured him in his palace and handed him over to Husravah, who slew him. Firdausí, it will be observed, represents Afrásiyáb's attempt to seize the Glory as an attempt to escape from Húm. Haoma is of course the personification of the ancient Aryan drink-offering^138a

and a god of the old nature-worship. It is one of the instances in which such divine beings have become human in the Sháhnáma. Another instance is that of Kai Khusrau himself, in whom a trace of his divine origin is to be found in his passing without death to heaven. This trait is found in the Zandavasta: “Mayest thou be freed from sickness and death, like king Husravah!”^138b

§§ 47-63. The legend of Kai Khusrau's melancholy, his expedition into the mountains, and his attainment to Heaven without having tasted death, has its parallel in the great Indian epie the Mahábhárata, where Yudhishthira, the eldest of the five Pándavas, becoming weary of the world, resolves to retire from the sovereignty and acquire merit by pilgrimage. On hearing of his intentions his four brothers—Bhima, Arjuna, and the twins Nakula and Sahadeva—resolve to follow his example and accompany him. Yudhishthira appoints successors to his various kingdoms, and makes a distribution of his treasures. He then once more summons his subjects and informs them of his intentions. “The citizens and the inhabitants of the provinces, hearing the king's words, became filled with anxiety and disapproved of them. ‘This should never be done’—said they unto the king. The monarch, well versed with the changes brought about by time, did not listen to their counsels. Possessed of righteous soul, he persuaded the people to sanction his views. … Then Dharma's son, Yudhishthira, the king of the Kurus, casting off his ornaments, wore barks of trees. Bhima and Arjuna and the twins, and Draupadi also of great fame,^138c

similarly clad themselves in barks of trees. … The ladies, beholding the princes in that guise, wept aloud. … The five brothers, with Draupadi forming the sixth, and a dog forming the seventh, set out on their journey. … The citizens and the ladies of the royal household followed them for some distance. … The denizens of the city then returned” to their new ruler and to the new situation caused by the renunciation of the Pándavas. The seven pilgrims meanwhile had set out upon their journey. They first wandered eastward, then southward, and then westward. Lastly they faced northward and crossed the Himavat. Then they beheld before them a vast desert of sand and beyond it Mount Meru. One by one the pilgrims sank exhausted and expired, first Draupadi, then the twins, then Arjuna, and then Bhima; but Yudhishthira, who never even looked back at his fallen comrades, still pressed on and, followed by the faithful dog, who turns out to be Dharma, the god of righteousness, in disguise, entered Heaven in his mortal body, not having tasted death.¹³⁹

On comparing this legend with that of the text it will be seen that, in spite of natural differences of detail, the resemblances are too numerous and close to be wholly accidental. In both legends two kings, after triumphing over their mortal foes in a great war, become world-weary and determine to renounce the sovereignty. In both the people protest in vain. Both kings appoint their successor, whom the people accept. Both bestow gifts and other favours on their chiefs. In both we have the lamentations of the kings' wives. Both journey into the mountains with a devoted band, the number of which is the same in both cases, and both are accompanied by a divine being, for the part of the dog in the Indian legend is indicated in the Íránian as being taken by Surúsh, the angel of Urmuzd.^139a

In both the leaders pass deathless into Heaven, and in both their mortal comrades perish. One legend therefore must be derived from the other, or else, and this seems to be the better opinion, they must be referred to a common origin of great antiquity.

In fight as sun-faced Lion. All agree—
Earth, water, and the heavenly Fount of light—
That such another Sháh ne'er was for fight,
For gifts and toil, for glory and renown.
Mixed he not love with war he would bring down,
When wroth, the stars. Strong is he, his array
Such that therein the wind is barred of way.
Seven hundred elephants of mighty size
Bring up his army's rear, and his allies

A wise man would not seek escape in vain,
But through the turning sky or through the net
Spread by the sun and moon I cannot get.

The warfare of Gúdarz and of Pírán
Being ended, the victorious Sháh prepared
For war again, and chiefs with countless troops
Flocked from all sides; the sound of clarions
Arose. They pitched the camp upon the plain,
And set upon an elephant a throne
Of turquoise, and the world's face grew like Nile.
The Sháh sat throned and crowned, from plain and court
Shouts rose, no room was left to move on waste
Or sleep in city. When the noble Sháh,
Thus seated, dropped the ball within the cup,
And girt his loins, there was tarrying
Throughout the realm save at the great king's gate,
Such was his ordinance for all the kingdom.
Of those whom he had strictly charged, and sent
Out to the marches, with Luhrásp and Rustam,
The strong of hand, who could despoil the deep

the Sháh
Chose thirty thousand warriors and chiefs
Equipped with armour, shields, and Rúman helms,
And made that gallant horseman Faríburz
Their chief in consort with Tukhár, the king
Of Dahistán, who scorned all enemies,
And was by birth of noble Dashma's seed—
A family of puissance in those days.
Nastúh was at the side of Faríburz,
Supported by a crowd of warriors.
The great men and the war-experienced chiefs,
Brought from the desert of the Bedouins,
Were all commanded by Zahír, who used
To pluck gazelles away from lion's claws,

Ten thousand more brave troops. The swordsman
Barta
Marched with his mountaineers amid that throng—
A noble band and gallant combatants—
In Gív's support. The Sháh sent thirty thousand
Picked cavaliers of battle to the left,
All warlike youths commanded by Zawára,

The Turkman king reposed upon his throne
Of ivory on the further side of Jáj,

This refreshed

His heart. He heightened on the imperial throne,
A general was he expert in war,
And went not by the words of any teacher.
He ranged the centre and the wings thereof,
The outposts to observe the enemy,
The rear, and station for the baggage-train,
He ranged the left and right. He made a camp
In royal wise, with five score thousand swordsmen
To form the centre, making that his station
Because he took the chief command himself.
Pashang, whose hands were strong as leopard's claws,
Commanded on the left, in all the host
A peerless noble, and unequalled horseman
In any land. His sire surnamed him Shída,¹⁵⁵

For he was like bright Sol, would urge his steed,
Seize, and pluck out by force, a leopard's tail;
He wont to use an iron spear and pierce
A mountain in the fight. To him the king
Committed five score thousand troops and chiefs
For that campaign. He had a younger brother—
His glorious peer, a warrior Jahn by name,
A potent prince, his father's counsellor,
Raised by his understanding o'er the throng.

Now when Khusrau heard from his watchful spies
About the Turkmans and Afrásiyáb:—
“He hath conveyed such hosts across Jíhún
That neither sands nor rocks are visible!”
He called his warriors and declared to them
What he had heard, chose from among his troops
The fittest of the mighty of Írán,
Men that had tasted this world's salts and sours,
To succour Gustaham, son of Naudar,
At Balkh, and bade Ashkash to lead to Zam
A host with treasure, elephants, and drachms
That none might take him in the rear and frustrate
The purpose of the Lions of Írán;
He ordered next his warriors to horse,
Struck up the tymbals and led on the host,
But marched with counsel, prudence, and no haste,
For that in warfare leadeth to repentance.
The Sháh, when he had reached the waste, inspected
The bearing and equipment of his men.
The army's route was toward Khárazm, where sands
And plains were fit for strife, with Dahistán
To left, the stream to right, the sands between,
Afrásiyáb in front. The Sháh in person,
With Rustam, Tús, Gúdarz, Gív, and a staff
Of noble warriors, went round the field
To view the approaches and the pathless waste;

Three days and nights

The hosts abode thus and none stirred a lip.
The cavalry were mounted on both sides,
The footmen stood in front. Thou wouldst have said:—
“Earth is an iron mountain, heaven is mailed.”
Before the two kings the astrologers,
Much musing and with tables on their breasts,
Sought out the secret purposes of heaven
With astrolabes to find the favoured side,
But heaven looked on with a spectator's eye,
And left the gazers in perplexity.

Upon the fourth day when the strain was great
The valiant Shída came before his sire,
And said to him: “O famed throughout the world,
And most exalted of all potentates!
No monarch under heaven hath Grace like thine,
And neither sun nor moon opposeth thee;
An iron mount would run as 'twere a river
If it should hear the name Afrásiyáb.

Afrásiyáb replied:—

“Be not impetuous. What thou say'st is true,
And never should one listen save to truth;
Yet, as thou know'st, the warrior Pírán
In this world trod the path of excellence;
There was no fraud or falsehood in his heart,
He sought for nothing but the good and right,
He was an elephant in strength in battle,
He had a sea-like heart and sunny face:
Húmán his brother was a warrior-leopard,
So was the brave Lahhák, so Farshídward.
A hundred thousand Turkman cavaliers,
Ambitious men accoutred for the fight,
Departed hence all seething for the fray,
Though I in secret sorrowed and bewailed.
They perished on the battlefield; the ground.
Whereon they lay was puddled with their gore.
The marches of Túrán are broken-hearted
With sorrow, all men dream of dead Pírán,
And no one speaketh of Afrásiyáb;
So let us tarry till our men of name,
Our great men of the host, our cavaliers,
Have gazed awhile upon the Íránians,
And have not hearts impassioned, grieved, and sore.
The Íránians too will see this mighty host
With all its treasures, thrones, and diadems.
It is not good for us to fight in force;
Defeat will come and we shall grasp the wind,
But warriors will I send dispersedly,
And fill the wastes with our foes' blood.”

Then Shída:—

“Sire! fight not thus. First of our warriors
Am I—a brazen-bodied cavalier—
And have seen none who in the battle-day
Could scatter wind-borne dust upon my steed.

“Experienced one,” said Shída,

“Inured to this world's heat and cold! thou hast
Five sons before thee still. We will not suffer
These thoughts of fight. No worshipper of God,
Nor army even, could approve that thou
Shouldst go in person to confront Khusrau.”

Then unto Shída said Afrásiyáb:—
“Imperious son! ne'er be mishap thy lot.
Though thou wouldst fight with Kai Khusrau thyself
Take not this present matter in ill part:
Go forth and be the Maker thine ally,
And may thy foemen's heads be overturned.
Convey a message unto Kai Khusrau
For me and say: ‘The world is changed indeed!
The grandson waging war upon his grandsire
Must have a head all guile and wickedness.
Was it the Maker's aim to fill the world
With fight and feud? When Siyáwush was slain
The fault was his for heeding not advisers;

He saw none but Káran of Káwa's race,
And said: “Go thou to Shída with good cheer,
Greet him from us and hear the embassage.”
Whenas Káran approached the company
He caught sight of the waving sable flag,
Came up to Shída and gave greeting, adding
That of the Sháh and of the Íránians.
The young man's answer was in honied tones,
For he was shrewd of heart and bright of mind,
Delivering what Afrásiyáb had said
Concerning peace and feast and war and strife,
And when Káran had heard the goodly words
He came and told the monarch of Írán,
For wisdom and that message were well paired.¹⁶⁵

When Kai Khusrau heard this he called to mind
Old times and, laughing at his grandsire's action,
His machinations and diplomacy,
Exclaimed: “Afrásiyáb repenteth crossing
The stream, and though dry-eyed hath much to say;
But my heart is fulfilled with ancient griefs.
May be he striveth to affect my mind,
And fright me with the greatness of his host,
Unwitting that high heaven turneth not
As we desire when evil days are toward.
Mine only course is to encounter him
With vengeful heart upon the battlefield,
And, when I should be striving, dally not.”
The wise men and the captains of the host
All spake out, saying: “This must never be:
Afrásiyáb is wise and veteran,
And never dreameth but of stratagems;
He knoweth naught but sorcery, black arts,
Deceit, malignity, and wickedness.

Khusrau then bade Káran, his faithful liege,
To go back with this answer from the Sháh:—
“ ‘Our controversy hath grown long and stubborn
Till matters now have reached a pass indeed!
A man of honour and a warrior
Is not in war a laggard. I demand not
Thy treasures or the country of Túrán,
For none abideth in this Wayside Inn.
Now mark to whom the Lord of sun and moon
Shall give success upon this battlefield,
For by the Maker's might, the Omnipotent,
And by the diadem of Kai Káús,
Who cherished me, I grant you no more time
Than roses can withstand the autumnal blast.
We need not wealth acquired by tyranny

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

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!

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,

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,

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.

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

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,

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,

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 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.

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.

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.

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

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,

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.