Šāh-nāmah - The Šahnama of Firdausi, Volume 5

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.”

The advent of Zarduhsht is described. Gushtásp is converted, and war ensues between him and the Túránian king Arjásp. Gushtásp is helped out of many straits by his valiant son, Asfan-diyár, who is incited to exertion by the promise of the kingship. Gushtásp, however, always finds fresh excuses for delaying his own abdication, and at length, being much pressed by Asfandiyár, sends him to bring Rustam in chains to court, with tragic results to all parties concerned. Gushtásp bestows the kingship on Bahman, the son of Asfandiyár, and dies.

The reign of Gushtásp falls naturally into four Parts. It is not, however, so divided, as indicated by the independent numbering of the couplets of each Part, either in the Vullers-Landauer text, from which our translation is made, or in that of Mohl. In Macan's edition the couplets are not numbered. The division into Parts is a convenient arrangement. We have adopted it in the present instance, and propose to do so in future cases when the reign is long and the subject-matter lends itself to such treatment.

To the student of the Sháhnáma the reign is one of much interest for many reasons. It contains a fine example of poetic justice, inasmuch as Gushtásp, having embittered the life of his own father,⁹

now finds himself, owing to rash promises,^9a

placed in a similar quandary with regard to his own son, Asfandiyár. There is the question, too, as to the position that he occupies from the standpoint of history. We have the account of the advent of Zarduhsht (Zoroaster), his preaching and the consequent conversion of Gushtásp, and, what renders this still more interesting, not in Firdausí's own words but in those of his contemporary Dakíkí, whose untimely death gave Firdausí the great opportunity of his life—one of which he was prompt to avail himself. Here, too, for the first time, we are enabled to compare the Sháhnáma with an extant Pahlaví version of the same subject-matter, and can see for ourselves how closely Dakíkí followed his authorities, just as later on we shall be enabled to compare Firdausí's own work with a similar extant Pahlaví version, when we come to the Ashkánian dynasty and the account therein given of the rise to power of Ardshír Pápakán, the founder of the Sásánian dynasty. Here, too, the great champion of priestly tradition—Asfandiyár—is introduced and brought face to face with the great hero of popular tradition—Rustam. In this reign, too, the long life of the latter hero comes to an end, and Firdausí tells us whence he obtained the information that enabled him to include his account of that end in the poem. We have also in his continuation of Dakíkí what we may regard, not, indeed, as the earliest of his literary efforts, but the earliest in intentional connexion with the Sháhnáma. It is interesting, too, to compare the styles of the two poets, though that is rather for the student of the original than for the reader of the translation.

For Gushtásp, see Vol. ii. p. 9. We may, however, add a few words on the way in which some of the more salient features of the historical epoch associated with the names of Cyrus and Darius Hystaspis are indicated in the legendary accounts of Kai Khusrau, Luhrásp, and Gushtásp. The Achæmenids, as is well known, ruled in a double collateral line—an elder and a younger. With the death of Cambyses, the son of Cyrus, the elder line came to an end. The rightful heir, so to speak, was the head of the younger line—Hystaspes—a man, as later events showed, not lacking in vitality and courage, for as Governor of Parthia he maintained the cause of his house energetically during the troublous times that followed the accession of his more famous son, Darius I., to the throne. Why Hystaspes stood aside in favour of his son it is difficult to see, but the facts, if we leave out of account the reign of Cambyses, seem clearly reproduced in legendary form in the Sháhnáma. Kai Khusrau, before his passing, appointed a distant, little-known Kaiánian collateral— Luhrásp—to succeed him, but Luhrásp was overshadowed completely by his more famous son, Gushtásp, in whose favour ultimately he retired. In a time of stress later on, however, he is represented as fighting gallantly. Again, the period ushered in by the death of Cambyses was one of great religious and political disturbance. Magism became very prominent in the person of the false Smerdis, and, whatever interpretation we put upon the statement in the Bihistún inscription, that he destroyed the temples of the gods and that Darius restored them,¹¹

it is evident that some grave religious question was at stake. Further, the accession of Darius was the signal for a series of revolts extending over several years and involving nearly the whole empire. It was only after a most desperate struggle that the genius of Darius triumphed. Among his other enemies, he had to contend against the northern foe—the Scythians—and later on led a famous expedition against them to the banks of the Danube. These three features of his reign—the religious question, civil war, and wars with the Scythians—are all indicated in a legendary form in the reign of Gushtásp. The religious question is very prominent, the civil war is represented by the fact that the leaders on both sides have Persian names,^11a

while the wars themselves are waged against a northern foe. Again, the information that we possess seems to indicate that Darius was the Constantine the Great of his time, and changed his religion in the course of his reign^11b

just as Gushtásp is represented as doing in the Sháhnáma. Zarduhsht “came” to Darius in a spiritual sense just as he came in the flesh, traditionally, to Gushtásp. Lastly, Darius married the widow of Cambyses—Atossa. There is no trace of this in the Sháhnáma, where Gushtásp is represented as marrying Cæsar's daughter, Katáyún, but it is worth mentioning with a view of connecting him with Darius Hystaspis that, as West has suggested, ^11c

the name of Gushtásp's wife in the Zandavasta—Hutaosa —bears a striking resemblance to that of Darius' wife.

Many of the chief characters of this reign appear in the Zanda-vasta, with the exception of Zál and his descendants, who were either not known to, or were ignored by, its compilers. Luhrásp appears as Aurvat-aspa, but is mentioned merely as the father of Gushtásp.

Gushtásp, who appears as Vistáspa, had one of its Books—the Vístásp-sást—named after him. It dealt with his conversion by Zarduhsht (Zoroaster) and his subsequent war with Arjásp. It is partly extant.^11d

Gushtásp has the distinction of appearing in the Gáthas—the oldest part, as generally is held, of the Zanda-vasta. Elsewhere in it he is represented as praying that he may overcome and put to flight Arjásp and others.¹²

His triumph over them also is recorded.^12a

Zarír, Gushtásp's brother, appears as Zairi-vairi, and is represented as offering up sacrifices that he may overcome Arjásp.^12b

Asfandiyár, the most famous of Gushtásp's sons, appears as Spentó-dáta.^12c

He is not nearly so much in evidence as one would expect in view of the important place that he occupies in later tradition, where he becomes a sort of Zoroastrian Khálid, spreading the Faith with fire and sword. The chief credit is given to Gush-tásp himself.

Bishútan, Asfandiyár's brother, appears as Peshó-tanu, and is described as exempt, like Kai Khusrau, from sickness and death.^12d

Gurazm, probably another brother, though the Sháhnáma leaves the exact relationship indefinite, appears as “the holy Kavárazem.”^12e

In the Sháhnáma, however, he has an evil reputation as the slanderer of Asfandiyár, who in consequence is imprisoned by Gushtásp.

Humái, Asfandiyár's sister, appears as Huma.^12f

Nastúr, Zarír's son, seems to be the same as “the holy Basta-vairi.” ^12g

If so, we should read Bastúr for Nastúr.

Jámásp, Gushtásp's chief minister, is mentioned in the Gáthas as well as elsewhere in the Zandavasta. He married one of Zarduhsht's daughters,^12h

wrote down the Zandavasta,¹²ⁱ

and succeeded the Prophet as high priest of Írán.^12j

Further mention will be made of him, Gushtásp, Asfandiyár, and Bishútan below.

Árish, who is merely referred to, appears in the Zandavasta as Erekhsha khshviwi-ishush, and in Pahlaví as Árish Shívátír, i.e. “Árish of the swift arrow.” He was a famous Íránian archer, and after a war, not mentioned in the Sháhnáma, between Minúchihr and Afrásiyáb, was deputed to settle the frontier between Írán and Túrán, by shooting an arrow from the top of Mount Damá-wand, the boundary to be wherever the arrow fell. He shot accordingly. The arrow flew eastward from dawn till noon, and then dropped on the banks of the Jíhún (Oxus).^12k

In the Zandavasta, as we have seen already, the foes of the Íránians, e.g. Zahhák^12l

and Afrásiyáb,^12m

offer sacrifices and pray for boons in just the same way as the Íránians themselves do, and to the same divine beings. Similarly we find Arjásp and his brother Andarímán, who appear in the Zandavasta as Aregat-aspa and Vandaremaini respectively, praying for victory over Gushtásp and Zarír.¹³

It should be mentioned, however, that Arjásp is not called a Túránian, as Afrásiyáb is,^13a

but a Hvyaona.^13b

Who the Hvyaonas were is a disputed point. Their name has suggested both the Hiong-Nu of Chinese records, who may or may not have been the Huns,^13c

and the Chionitæ of Ammianus Marcellinus, who refers to their political relations with the Sásánian Sháh Sapor II. in the middle of the fourth century A.D.^13d

The identification of the Hvyaonas—the Khyóns of the Pahlaví Texts and of the Yátkár-i-Zarírán^13e

—with the Chionitæ is a very probable one, and bears out the view adopted in this work that the legends of the Sháhnáma originated, and its chief scene of action lay, at least during most of the mythical period, west of the Caspian.^13f

The Chionitæ are associated with the Gelani or people of Gílán, by Ammianus Marcellinus,^13g

and Gushtásp is represented in the Zandavasta as praying behind the river Dáitya for victory over them.^13h

It is certain that the Dáitya, which has been identified with the Aras,¹³ⁱ

the Kúr, and the Safíd Rúd,^13j

is to be looked for to the west of the Caspian. It is true that in another passage Gushtásp is represented as praying by Lake Frazdánava for victory over Arjásp and other foes,^13k

and that in the Pahlaví Texts this lake is described as being in Sagastán (Sístán),^13l

but the tendency at present seems to be in favour of identifying it with the Armenian river Hṛazdán,^13m

which will bring it into line with the other passages. It is only natural that the Chionitæ should leave their traces in Persian tradition, as they came on the scene at the epoch when the Zandavasta was being compiled.¹³ⁿ

They are not mentioned by name in the Sháhnáma, but in Dakíkí's portion a peculiar word, “Paighú,” not found elsewhere in the poem, or at all events not in the texts used in the present translation, is occasionally employed with reference to the northern enemy.

Zarduhsht or Zardusht, as the name is varyingly spelt in the Sháhnáma, but more familiarly known to western readers as Zoroaster, naturally dominates the Zandavasta, of which he is the traditional author. His name therein appears as Zarathushtra, and many scholars have exercised their ingenuity as to its meaning. Perhaps the best interpretation divides the word into “zar” and “ushtra.” The reader may be reminded, that Sám, on recovering his outcast son, gave him the name of Zál-i-zar or Zál the old.¹⁴

“Ushtra” is the ancient form of the modern “ushtar,” camel. Zarathushtra therefore seems to mean “Old Camel,” or “He whose camels are old.” For reasons sufficiently weighty at the time when the Sháhnáma was written, the account given of him in that poem is of the briefest, and it is proposed therefore to amplify it from other traditional sources. According to these he was born in B.C. 660—the year of the accession of Sháh Gushtásp.^14a

His father's name was Pourushaspa,^14b

his mother's Dughdhóvá.^14c

His father's home seems to have been situated in a valley^14d

on the upper bank of the river Dareja,^14e

best identified with the modern Daryai Rúd, also known as the Kara su, or “Blackwater,” which flows from Mount Savalán, northward to the Aras.^14f

His mother, Dughdhóvá, seems to have been a native of the city or district of Rai, near Tihrán.^14g

Being the highly favoured among women as the destined mother of the Prophet, the divine Glory rested on her in a visible form from her birth. The demons, instinctively aware that it would not be to their interests to ignore this portent, smote the district where she lived with three plagues—excessive cold, pestilence, and oppressive enemies—and then suggested to the inhabitants that the girl was a witch, and therefore the cause of the trouble. Pourushaspa did his best to defend his daughter, affirming that such a radiance as proceeded from her was too brilliant to be accounted for on the score of witchcraft, but, owing to the pertinacity of the demons, the interference of the Karap and Kavíg of the district, and the secret purpose of Providence to confound the wicked by their own devices, the girl was sent away to the house of her future father-in-law, thus directly bringing about the very result that the demons were most anxious to avoid.^14h

The Karaps and Kavígs, so called in the Pahlaví Texts, appear in the Zandavasta as Karpans and Kavis. The Karaps seem to have been the orthodox witch-doctors, or medicine-men, of a time when the separation, still incomplete, of the crafts of the priest, the leech, and the witch, not even had begun, and naturally they are held up to execration by the later orthodox Zoroastrian clergy. The Kavígs, equally reprobated, perhaps represented the lay official element.¹⁴ⁱ

The village to which the maligned maiden was exiled was the home of a family or clan called, from their eponymous ancestor, “Spítámas.” Zarduhsht thus became known to future times as Zarathushtra Spítáma. Urmuzd, it should be stated, had begun, in consultation with the ameshaspentas, to make arrangements for his birth 5970 years before it occurred.¹⁵

The procedure involved being somewhat complex,^15a

it will suffice to say that the maiden Dugh-dhóvá was in due course espoused to Pourushaspa,^15b

that for three days before the Prophet came into the world the village was all luminous with the divine Glory to the great terror of the inhabitants, ^15c

and that the babe was born laughing, to the discomfiture of the seven midwives that were in attendance.^15d

Dughdhóvá was fifteen years old when her son was born, and from that moment the divine Glory, which had encompassed her from her birth, passed to him.^15e

The situation seems to have been altogether too much for Pourushaspa, who appears to have felt and acted just as Sám did on the occasion of the birth of Zál.^15f

Especially, he was perturbed at the laughter of the babe at birth, and was only too eager to be rid of his uncanny offspring. Accordingly, he called in the most famous medicine-man of the district, by name Dúrásróbó, who at once attempted to lay violent hands upon the babe, but they became so twisted that he never could feed himself again.^15g

He, however, so wrought upon the father that the latter tried several times to put the child to death. He made a pyre of wood and laid Zarduhsht thereon; placed him on a narrow path and drove cattle along it; set him beside a pool and brought horses to water there; but all his endeavours proved fruitless. The fire would not burn the babe, while the foremost ox and horse stood over him till the rest of the herds had passed. The child was then left in the den of a wolf, whose cubs just before had been slaughtered, but on each occasion the babe was recovered unhurt by the devoted mother, who indignantly informed her spouse that he was worse than the wolf!^15h

Dúrásróbó then brought upon the scene a malignant disciple of his own named Brádrók-résh, a sort of Balaam, who, though willing to injure Zarduhsht, yet was impelled to proclaim his future greatness. These two and the father still collogued, but all their plans were frustrated and their arguments refuted by the growing child. At length Dúrásróbó came to a bad end,¹⁵ⁱ

but Brádrók-résh lived to be the slayer of the Prophet.^15j

Zarduhsht had four brothers, two elder, of course by another wife of his father's, and two younger.^15k

When he was fifteen years old, he and his brothers asked their father to bestow portions upon them, and he did so. Part of what was divided consisted of raiment, and from this Zarduhsht selected and assumed the girdle —a symbolical act like that of the assumption of the sacred cord by the twice-born in India. At the age of twenty he left his parents' house without their permission, and began the years of preparation that was to end in divine illumination later on. Of this period little is recorded except that he went about doing good, helping the weak and aged, and in times of scarcity giving his father's fodder to feed other men's cattle, which were so hungry that, as the original record puts it, they constantly ate off each other's tails.¹⁶

He is said also to have abandoned worldly desires, but this did not prevent his marrying, partly, as it would seem, to please his parents. He showed, however, his good sense by asking to see the face of the proposed bride before espousing her. Also he attended the assembly of the wise, and asked them questions. ^16a

On the day Dai pa Mihr of the month Ardíbihisht, or, in our prosaic modern equivalent, on May 5th, B.C. 630, when he was thirty years old, the Revelation came to him. The ame-shaspenta Vohu Manau (Vohúman, Bahman)^16b

met him in the neighbourhood, probably, of the Safíd Rúd, or White River, in Ázarbáiján,^16c

and bore him to the presence of Urmuzd and to the other five ameshaspentas. When Zarduhsht arrived within twenty-four feet of them, he ceased to see his own shadow on the ground owing to the universally diffused radiance that proceeded from them. In the conference with Urmuzd that ensued, Zar-duhsht was informed that the three perfections of the embodied world were good thoughts, good words, and good deeds; that to recognise the ameshaspentas as such, i.e. as immortal benefactors, was good; that to behold them was better; and that to obey them was best of all. He was instructed also in the doctrine of Dualism. The vision occurred thrice on that day, and Zarduhsht underwent three ordeals—walking on fire, having molten metal poured on his chest and holding it in his hand, and being wounded with a knife and healed by the passing of hands over the place, so that in time to come the faithful also might be enabled to endure the like for the glory of the good religion.^16d

Inspired by this revelation, Zarduhsht began his missionary labours, attempting in the first instance to convert the assembled Kavígs and Karaps. He appealed to them to accept the religion of Urmuzd, to forego demon-worship, and to adopt the principle of next of kin marriages. With regard to this last article, it is difficult to rise superior to inherited taboos and not feel a certain sympathy with Zarduhsht's hearers when we read that at this point they rushed upon him and strove to put him to death.¹⁷

We may, however, acquit Zarduhsht, or at least the Zarathushtra of the Gáthas, of ever having advocated such a doctrine, first on the general principle that it never would have occurred to one who not yet had made a single disciple, it being a device far more suitable to a Faith in extremis, and secondly, because it is not advocated in the Gáthas themselves. Next of kin marriages, of course, occurred in ancient times between exalted, almost divine, personages regarded as being above the customary taboos, but such marriages were not peculiar to Zoroastrians.^17a

Other attempts of Zarduhsht to spread his evangel are recorded, in the course of which he is said to have journeyed as far east as Sístán,^17b

but all proved fruitless. It was not till ten years after his receipt of the Revelation that he made his first convert—his cousin Maidhyó-maungha, the son of Árásti, who was Pourushaspa's brother.^17c

During these ten years Zarduhsht appears to have returned from time to time to his own home, apparently for the winter months, and to have received at such seasons a series of further Revelations from each of the six ameshaspentas in turn.^17d

Time, however, was slipping by; ten years had passed, only one convert had been made, and in despair the Prophet again appealed to Urmuzd, received the complete Revelation, the sacred formula wherewith to smite the fiends—the formula known as the Ahuna Vairya, beginning, “The will of the Lord is the law of righteousness,”—and was warned that he would be assailed by the demons.^17e

The warning was needed. He was attacked at the moment of his greatest spiritual exaltation. The demon Búiti made the first assault, but was repulsed. Next came the evil counterpart of the ameshaspenta Vohu Manau—Akem Manau (“Bad thought”)^17f

— with his malignant riddles; but Zarduhsht pelted him with stones. Lastly, Áhriman came on the scene in person. All that was required of the Prophet was that he should worship as his mother worshipped—a very subtle form of temptation. Let him but renounce the good religion, and the sovereignty of the whole world should be his; but Zarduhsht refused, chanted the Ahuna Vairya, and foiled the tempter.^17g

Another trial, against which Urmuzd had warned him, was still to come. One of the medicine-men of the old religion assumed the form of the female ame-shaspenta Sapandármad, and accosted him. Now Zarduhsht had had opportunities of seeing the true Sapandármad, and knew that she was in all respects well formed and lovely while her impersonator would be fair in front but hideous behind. He therefore bade the temptress turn herself round. After protesting vainly, she did so; her falsity became evident, and the phantasm was annihilated.¹⁸

Inspired by Urmuzd, Zarduhsht now determined on a bold step—that of attempting to convert Sháh Gushtásp to the Faith. The “terrible conflict,” as tradition calls it, that ensued lasted two years,^18a

for the Evangelist was opposed desperately by the medicine-men whom he found in possession at that monarch's court.^18b

We may lay the scene at Balkh. The first interview between Zarduhsht and Gushtásp seems to have taken place on the riding-ground. At first, as the expression “terrible conflict” implies, the Prophet came off badly. The king, it is true, was inclined to give ear to him, but his opponents, fearful lest he should prevail with Gushtásp, induced the latter to imprison him and leave him to starve to death.^18c

At this moment, however, Providence intervened with regard to a transaction, the account of which exists only in fragments and allusions in the older authorities. Here, therefore, we have to turn for a consecutive narrative to the Zartusht-náma, a poetical version of the life of the Prophet, written by one of the faithful, Zartusht Bahrám Pazhdú by name, apparently at Rai, near Tihrán, and finished on August 12th, A.D. 1278.^18d

We learn from this that Zarduhsht's opponents, worsted by him in argument at a three days' conference held before the king, concealed abominations in his house and then accused him of sorcery. Gushtásp ordered search to be made, the incriminating articles were found, and Zarduhsht was cast into prison. Now, while he was languishing there, a mysterious and unprecedented event occurred. The legs of the king's favourite black horse were drawn up into the animal's body, and king, court, and people were all in consternation. Zarduhsht heard of the matter through the keeper of the prison, and offered to heal the steed on four conditions. Gushtásp accepted them seriatim, and, as he did so, Zar-duhsht drew forth from the body of the horse its four legs one by one. The conditions were, that Gushtásp should acknowledge Zarduhsht to be a true prophet; that Asfandiyár should become the champion of the true religion; that Zarduhsht should have facilities for converting the queen; and that his false accusers should be punished. It need hardly be added that with the restoration of the fourth leg the steed became as well as ever.¹⁹

We learn from the same authority that Gushtásp, eager perhaps to avail himself to the utmost of such a unique opportunity, made in his turn four requests of Zarduhsht. These were, that the king's future doom should be revealed to him; that he should become invulnerable; that he should know both the past and the future; and that he should be undying till the Resurrection. Zarduhsht said that he would pray that these boons should be granted, but that the king must be content to ask only one of the four, whichever he preferred, for himself, and leave the other three for others. Gushtásp agreed to this; Zarduhsht withdrew to his own abode, and spent the night in prayer. The next morning a great marvel happened. Four heavenly messengers, two of them being ameshaspentas, sent by Urmuzd, arrived at court and exhorted Gushtásp to be firm in the Faith proclaimed to him by Zarduhsht, to cherish that Prophet, and to obey him in all things. The king swooned on his throne, but on his recovery promised full obedience to the divine injunctions, and the angelic band departed. Zarduhsht then prepared to perform the Darún. In the present day this is a ceremony held on behalf of some particular person, who is mentioned by name in the course of it, at the end of which the ceremonial wafer-bread—the Darún—is broken into pieces and partaken of first by the celebrant and the other priests present, and then by the rest of the congregation.^19a

Zarduhsht, however, on the occasion of which we write, propared four things—wine, perfumes, milk, and a pomegranate. Gushtásp drank of the wine and slept. In his sleep he had a vision of Paradise, and saw his own place therein—the boon that he had desired. Bishútan drank of the milk, and became immortal. Jámásp smelt of the perfumes, and immediately became possessed of all knowledge. Asfandiyár ate of the pomegranate, became invulnerable, and thus acquired the title of “the brazen-bodied.”^19b

From this point, as easily may be imagined, the cause of the good religion began to prosper; but the serious opposition known as “The War of the Religion” was still to come, and this we shall find set forth in the Sháhnáma itself.^19c

Firdausí describes how Dakíkí appeared to him in a dream, and begged that the thousand couplets which he (Dakíkí) had composed might be incorporated in the Sháhnáma. Firdausí accordingly gives Dakíkí's couplets. They deal with the advent of Zarduhsht (Zoroaster), the conversion of Gushtásp, the religious war with Túrán, which ensued, the defeat of Arjásp, king of Túrán, by Asfandiyár, Gushtásp's heroic son, the differences that arise between Asfandiyár and his father, the temporary disgrace and imprisonment of the former, and Arjásp's preparations for a fresh campaign. At the conclusion of Dakíkí's couplets, Firdausí proceeds to criticise them, and then takes up the thread of the story himself. Arjásp again invades Írán, storms Balkh, slays Luhrásp and Zarduhsht, and carries off Asfandiyár's sisters. Gushtásp is forced to appeal for assistance to Asfandiyár, who at first refuses, but finally assents, in order to avenge his brother Farshídward, who has been slain in battle by the Túránians, and on the understanding that his father will resign the throne in his favour. Arjásp is defeated, but Gushtásp refuses to carry out his part of the bargain till Asfandiyár has rescued his sisters from captivity.

§§ 1-26. This passage, with the exception of the preface in § 1 and the postscript in § 26, which were written by Firdausí and will be referred to later, is by another poet—Dakíkí—of whose life, as Professor Nöldeke says,^19d

we know very little, and nothing with certainty. The name Dakíkí, like Firdausí, is a mere nom de plume. He appears, however, to have flourished during the reign of the Sámánid ruler, Mansur I. (A.D. 961-976), to whom and to his successor, Nuh II. (A.D. 976-997), he wrote eulogies still extant.²¹

Doubtlessly he was a Persian by birth, and, if we can trust his own statement, a Zoroastrian as well.^21a

He had a considerable reputation, not undeserved, as a poet in his own day,^21b

and died, murdered by one of his own slaves, early, it would appear,^21c

in the reign of Nuh II. The similarity of the work of Dakíkí and Firdausí is remarkable. They use the same metre and pretty much the same vocabulary, have a similar style, and affect the same figures of speech. In fact, it might be maintained that in most of the above respects Firdausí carefully copied his predecessor; but the better opinion seems to be that the features above mentioned were the common property of the poets of the time, and would be used by them as a matter of course when dealing with similar subject-matter. Still it is possible to detect differences and discrepancies in the work of the two poets. With regard to the former, for instance, Professor Nöldeke points out that the presentation is more formal in Dakíkí's hands. When a new hero enters, and when he falls, the account is given in the same manner, almost in the same words, and is not varied as Firdausí knew how to vary such things; and further, that the treatment of the subject-matter is less adroit, Gushtásp, for instance, being represented as twice on the point of joining in the fray and each time easily dissuaded from so doing.^21d

Again, Dakíkí uses certain words^21e

that apparently, though this is stated with all reserve, Firdausí does not. With regard to the discrepancies, an attentive reader even of the present translation might note some. For instance, when, in the reign of Kai Khusrau, we heard last of the political relations between Írán and Túrán, the latter, left kingless by the destruction of Afrásiyáb and all his house, was represented as being in a state of complete subjection to the former. Then comes the reign of Luhrásp, in which we hear nothing on the subject, after which, at the beginning of that of Gushtásp, an entirely new political situation is sprung upon us.^21f

Írán is represented as tributary to Túrán, and the latter is under the rule of a powerful king. This was all right from Dakíkí's point of view, because he started on that assumption, but it is hard to believe that Firdausí, looking before and after as he must have done, would have rendered no explanation of, or made no reference to, the new state of affairs if he had been the author of this part of the poem. Again, in Dakíkí, who doubtlessly follows his authorities, Asfandiyár marries his sister Humái. Firdausí ignores this, and deliberately prefers to make a fine scene of his own less convincing in consequence. Gushtásp, having imprisoned Asfandiyár owing to the charge made against him by the envious Gurazm, is defeated and hardly pressed by Arjásp. He sends Jámásp to persuade Asfandiyár to forget his ill-treatment and furnish much needed help. Jámásp urges various pleas, and among them the captivity among the Turkmans of Asfandiyár's sisters—Humái and Bih Áfríd—but the resentful captive remains obdurate till Jámásp falls back upon the case of Farshídward, who is represented as being the only member of Asfandiyár's family that felt concern for him in his disgrace. The plea of the captivity of Humái—his wife as well as sister—was ready at hand to be put into Jámásp's mouth had Firdausí so desired, but he refrained, and in this portion of the Sháhnáma represented the brother and sister as being wholly indifferent to each other. Again, the formal introduction of Rustam,²²

after all that has gone before, might strike the reader as somewhat curious.

If the fact of Dakíkí's authorship had been unknown, it is not impossible that some critic might have based a theory of difference of authorship on some such considerations as those mentioned above; but it would have been sufficient to reply that Firdausí's own style is not uniform throughout the Sháhnáma,^22a

and that the passage in question reads like a first draft, which, owing to some accident or oversight, had been left unrevised. This is precisely what it is, and for the best of reasons in Dakíkí's case, inasmuch as

“death approaching unexpectedly
Imposed its gloomy helmet on his head,”

as Firdausí put it on another occasion.^22b

Lack of opportunity for revision, too, is the best answer to Firdausí's somewhat severe criticisms of his predecessor's work.^22c

Why, then, did he insert it? Several reasons may be given. First, by so doing he paid off his debt:—

“He was my pioneer, and he alone.”²³

Secondly, it got Firdausí himself out of a difficulty. The epoch of the advent of Zarduhsht was a dangerous one to treat in those days of fanaticism. The dead poet was beyond the reach of offended Muhammadan orthodoxy, so his work, the insertion of which was justified on the plea of a dream—a portent not lightly to be disregarded in those days—was substituted for what the living poet would have had to write or leave a serious omission in the poem. Thirdly, Firdausí's real opinion of Dakíkí's literary ability was in all probability higher than he thought it politic to accentuate in close proximity to such a dangerous topic. When he wrote the Prelude to the Sháhnáma he expressed himself much more favourably. Fourthly, Dakíkí's alleged inferiority might serve as a foil. If his feeble strain won him honour and emolument from the great, whose praises he sang, how much more should the fluent and refined work of his successor gain substantial recognition.^23a

Lastly, the ostensible reason after all may have been the real one. To have a vivid dream is not uncommon; to act upon it is rarer no doubt; but instances have been known, and Firdausí's case may be one in point; at all events, he says so. Like other great poets he was, we may assume, highly strung; and Dakíkí's death, its tragic suddenness, and the vista that it opened, cannot fail to have impressed him. Be this as it may, he adopted Dakíkí's literary orphan, but, having provided permanently for it, did not allow it to interfere further with his own poetical progeny. Without disparaging Dakíkí, we may congratulate ourselves, on the whole, upon the course that events took. Whatever he may have been, he was not a Firdausí. Apart altogether from the literary side of the question, there must have been a regularity of life, a steadfastness of purpose, and a moral elevation in the latter's case which seem to have been only too lacking in the former's. Had Dakíkí's life been prolonged for a season, he might, unintentionally of course, have played the part of the dog in the manger, obstructing Firdausí without having the needful qualities or opportunities for the accomplishment of a task of such magnitude himself. The two poets, however, par nobile fratrum as they were in genius and in enthusiasm, had one other excellent point in common. They followed their authorities in all essential particulars, and did not invent on their own account. So far as Dakíkí is concerned, this will be shown in what follows.

The Sháhnáma may be described as a great river—the outcome of many tributaries. The greatest of these undoubtedly is the prose compilation of ancient legend known as the Bástán-náma, or Khudai-náma, of which some account has been given already.²⁴

This in its turn had its affluents, some of which we may conceive of as passing into it in their primitive form while others entered it in an already mingled stream. Some affluents again wholly merged and thus lost their independent existence entirely, while others only partially did so and thus preserved their own identity. Of these latter again one at least passed out of sight for a time only to reappear in a somewhat altered but still recognisable form later on. In the interval, however, between its disappearance and reappearance, it is evident that its contents became tinged with that of other sources. The result, as we now possess it, is a little Pahlaví Text known as the Yátkár-i-Zarírán. This gives us a very good notion of what the original affluent must have contained, and as it deals with the same matters as are dealt with by Dakíkí in §§ 2-19, we are in a position to check his work. It should be understood clearly that the Yátkár-i-Zarírán was not the actual authority followed by him, but stands collaterally related to the version of the original affluent which, mingled with the Bástán-náma, passed, after further vicissitudes and centuries later, into his hands. The following is a summary of the main points of resemblance and difference between the Yátkár-i-Zarírán and Dakíkí, the former being referred to as Z and the latter as D. First, for the resemblance. Most of the names appear in both, the only difference being that in Z we have some of them in the Pahlaví, and in D all of them in the modern Persian, form. Thus in Z we have Vishtásp and in D Gushtásp, in Z Spand-dát and in D Asfandiyár, in Z Garámík-kart and in D Girámí. In both, Arjásp hears that Gushtásp has adopted the Faith of Zarduhsht, and sends envoys to bid him recant or take the consequences. The envoys' names are Vídrafsh and Nám-khást, son of Hazár, in Z; Bídirafsh and Námkhást, son of Hazárán, in D. In both, Zarír, the captain of the Íránian host, obtains Gushtásp's permission to answer Arjásp's letter, and does so, accepting the arbitrament of war; the envoys return to Arjásp, and the monarchs prepare for battle. In both, Gushtásp calls upon Jámásp, his chief minister, to foretell the issue of the coming fight; under protest Jámásp does so, and the king is so perturbed that he announces his intention of not allowing his nearest and dearest to go upon the battlefield; but when Jámásp points out the ills which in that event will befall Írán, he resigns himself to the inevitable. In both, Arjásp and Gushtásp take up their posts of survey, and the fight begins; Zarír displays great valour; Arjásp in alarm offers his daughter's hand and high office to any one who will fight Zarír; Bídirafsh volunteers, and kills Zarír from behind. In both, Gushtásp on the hill-top forebodes the death of Zarír, and offers his daughter Humái in marriage to any one that will avenge him; Zarír's son (Bastvar in Z, Nastúr in D)²⁵

obtains a steed from the master of the horse, goes forth to the battlefield, finds his father lying dead, laments over him, fights and returns to Gushtásp, who equips and sends him forth again. In both, he fights so bravely that Arjásp compares him to Zarír, dispatches Bídirafsh to encounter him, and Bídirafsh is slain. In both, Asfandiyár and Nastúr totally defeat the enemy, and Arjásp gets back to his own realm.

In addition to these general points of resemblance, there are others in matters of detail, as where, both in Z and D, Girámí is represented as fighting while holding the royal standard between his teeth, but these need not detain us. It remains to point out the difference. In Z Arjásp is the ruler of the Khyóns;^25a

in D of the Turkmans and of Chin. In D the war begins with Gush-tásp's refusal, prompted by Zarduhsht, to continue the payment of tribute to Arjásp. This is not in Z. Except for the mention of the death of Zarír, and the defeat of Arjásp by Asfandiyár, Jámásp's prophecy differs in Z and D. In Z Zarír begins the battle; in D there is fighting for two weeks, during which several of Gushtásp's sons distinguish themselves, and are slain, before Zarír takes the field. In D Asfandiyár hears of Zarir's death. He also hears his father swearing to surrender the crown to him if the Turkmans are defeated—an important addition, and the keynote of the whole reign. In D it is Asfandiyár, and not Nastúr, that kills Bídirafsh. In Z all the Khyóns are slain with the exception of Arjásp himself, whom Spand-dát takes prisoner, mutilates, and sends back on a docked ass to Túrán. In D Asfandiyár makes a great slaughter, puts Arjásp to flight, and gives quarter to the rest of the Turkman host. In general, we may say, Z is on a much smaller scale than D, by whom letters, speeches, and descriptions of battles are given at much greater length. The differences in matters of detail also are important and suggestive. For instance, in Z Jámásp, after prophesying that Zarír will be killed by Vídrafsh, adds that Nám-khást will slay Pát-khusrau, another brother, and Frashókart, a son, of Gushtásp's, and further, that twenty-two of his other sons and brothers will perish. In the account of the actual fighting, however, only the death of Zarír is recorded. In D, though all reference to Pát-khusrau and Frashókart is omitted, Jámásp's prophecy is considerably expanded. He tells of the prowess and death of three of Gushtásp's sons—Ardshír, Shídasp, and Nívzár—and of his own son Girámí, who does not die in Z, as well as of the success of Zarír's son Nastúr, before dealing with Zarír himself. All these heroes are mentioned again in the description of the fight, and mostly at greater length than in the prophecy; while the exploits of another of Gushtásp's sons—Shírú —are commemorated between those of Ardshír and Shídasp. It seems, therefore, that fragments of another legend, and those not the same fragments, must have found their way by different routes both into Z and D. That legend must have been one commemorating collectively and in detail the prowess of the Íránian heroes, especially those of the royal house, in the War of the Religion. This is the more likely because in the circumstances they would be regarded as martyrs and confessors of the Faith. In addition to a collective commemoration, some of the more important of these heroes must have had their own separate náma or legend. Even if Z were not extant, we should be justified in assuming the existence of such a náma in Zarír's case, and this must have had at least two branches—a Love-story and a Death-story. The account given of him in the Sháhnáma, and elsewhere under the name of Zariadres,²⁶

is sufficient to show this. In later times he became overshadowed partly by Gushtásp and partly by Asfandiyár. The Love-story from which he was ousted by Gushtásp will be found in the reign of Luhrásp.^26a

As regards the Death-story, even in Z we find Spand-dát already dominant, and in D he is still more so. He and Jámásp are associated with Zarír in the reply to Arjásp's letter, the promise of bestowing the kingship upon him is made by Gushtásp, and it is he, and not Nastúr, who avenges Zarír. To account for this predominance, therefore, we must assume still another source—an Asfandiyár-náma, or, as it would be called in Pahlaví, a Spand-dát-náma—with at least three branches, all represented in their latest forms in the Sháhnáma. To sum up and illustrate what has been said above, a diagram is appended, which, however, in view of the ravages wrought by time, must be regarded as somewhat theoretical.²⁷

>graphic<

§ 3. For Zarduhsht (Zoroaster) see p. 13 seq. Whether the planting of a cypress at Kishmar by him was an actual fact, or whether it is an instance of a people being misled by one of their own metaphors, it is impossible to say. To plant a tree to commemorate some important event is not unusual. Metaphorically to plant a tree, in the sense of instituting some new custom or making a new departure in policy, etc., is common enough in the Sháhnáma. We have an instance at the beginning of this section. At all events, the Cypress of Kishmar rivals Gushtásp's Black Horse²⁸

in fame, and, after living for some fourteen centuries and a half, is said to have been cut down by the orders of the Khalífa Mutawakkal (A.D. 846-860). The following is the account of it given in the Dabistán:—“The professors of the excellent faith and the Moslem historians agree, that in … Kashmar … a dependency of Naishapur, there was formerly a cypress planted by Zardusht for king Gushtasp, the like of which was never seen before or since, for beauty, height, or straightness: mention of this tree having been made at the court of Mutawakkal when he was engaged in building the Sarman raï, or Samarah palace in the Jáafriyah, the Khalif felt a great desire to behold it: and as it was not in his power to go to Khorasan, he wrote to Abdallah Táhir Zavalimin, ‘possessor of happiness,’ to have the tree cut down, fastened on rollers, and sent to Baghdád. When intelligence of this came to the people of the district and the inhabitants of Khorasan, they assembled at the foot of the tree, imploring for mercy with tears and lamentations, and exhibiting a scene of general desolation. The professors of the excellent faith offered the governor fifty thousand dinars to spare the tree, but the offer was refused. When the cypress was felled, it caused great detriment to the buildings and water-courses of the country; the birds of different kinds which had built their nests on it issued forth in such countless myriads as to darken the air, screaming out in agony with various tones of distress: the very oxen, sheep, and other animals which reposed under its sheltering shade, commenced such piteous moans of woe that it was impossible to listen to them. The expense of conveying the trunk to Baghdad was five hundred thousand dinars; the very branches loaded one thousand and three hundred camels. When the tree had reached one station from the Jáafriah quarter, on that same night, Mutawakkal the Abasside was cut in pieces by his own guards, so that he never beheld the tree.”^28a

According to other accounts, Zarduhsht brought down two cypress-shoots from Paradise, one of which he planted at Kishmar and the other in the neighbourhood of Tús.^28b

The statement in the text that Gushtásp raised over the Cypress of Kishmar a lofty palace has been interpreted to mean that he built himself a summer-house among its boughs, or rather that Zarduhsht built it for him: “in hujus Arboris summitate erexit Aestivarium.”^28c

In villages in Persia at the present day a semi-sacred character is attached to some of the large trees, which have platforms built round them where the villagers sit and smoke in the evenings.²⁹

§ 8. The Kuhram mentioned here and in § 11 is no doubt the same person, though variously described as the brother and son of Arjásp. Firdausí makes him the latter. A Kuhram and an Andarímán appear among the Túránian heroes as far back as the reign of Kai Káús,^29a

and are among those slain in “The Battle of the Twelve Rukhs.”^29b

Probably the same legendary characters are intended throughout. Death is no bar to the reappearance of a hero in the Sháhnáma.^29c

§§ 11-19, 27-32. The War of the Religion between Gushtásp and Arjásp is divided into two campaigns, separated by a considerable interval, during part of which Asfandiyár was a prisoner in the stronghold of Gumbadán. In the first campaign the fighting consisted of a series of engagements extending over two weeks, and in the end the Íránians were completely victorious, but we have no very definite information as to where it took place. In the Yátkár-i-Zarírán the Íránian reply to Arjásp's ultimatum proposes the neighbourhood of Marv as the meeting-ground, “where there is no high mountain, nor any deep ravine, but where on the plateau of the steppe horses and the valiant men-at-arms can move freely.”^29d

The Sháhnáma, in partial accord to this, makes Gushtásp advance to the Jíhún (Oxus),^29e

but we do not hear of the river being crossed by either host. In the second campaign Arjásp, taking advantage of Gushtásp's absence in Sístán, suddenly invaded Írán. Several distinct battles were fought. In the first, outside the walls of Balkh, Luhrásp, the ex-Sháh, was defeated and slain, and the city stormed. In the second, Gushtásp was defeated and beleaguered on a mountain, and in the third he was rescued from his dangerous position by Asfandiyár. It would seem from the Sháhnáma^29f

that the second and third battles were, like the first, fought in the neighbourhood of Balkh, but other tradition points to a different locality. According to this view, we must imagine the opposing hosts encountering in the region about Nishápúr, Arjásp advancing westward from Balkh and Gushtásp northward from Sístán. The scene of the conflict therefore would lie about and between the Binalúd and Jagatai ranges, some part of which was known in old times as “the Ridge of Gushtásp”; and there is a tradition that when the Íránians were hard pressed they were helped by a land-slip from one of the adjacent mountains which received in consequence the name of “Madófryát” or “Come-to-help.”³⁰

§ 21. The Gloom, or Land of Darkness, here referred to, will be met with again in the next volume under the reign of Sikandar (Alexander the Great), who entered it in quest of the Water of Life.

§ 24. The stronghold of Gumbadán, in which Asfandiyár was imprisoned, appears to have been situated on a mountain which became known in consequence as Mount Spentó-dáta in the Zan-davasta ^30a

and as Mount Spendyád in the Pahlaví Texts.^30b

It seems, moreover, to be identical with Mount Sipand—the scene of one of Rustam's youthful exploits^30c

—and with Mount Sapad which comes into prominence in the story of Farúd.^30d

Mount Spentó-dáta has been located in the neighbourhood of the Bár Mountains to the north-west of Nishápúr.^30e

This is, of course, inconsistent with Malcolm's identification of the stronghold on Mount Sipand with the “White Castle,” of which he gives a description already quoted.^30f

According to Mirkhond Asfandiyár was confined in the fortress of Girdkuh in the district of Rúdbár.^30g

This was situated in the neighbourhood of Kaswín, and in later times was one of the strongholds of 'Umar Khayyám's contemporary and fellow-student, Hasan Sabbáh, better known as “The Old Man of the Mountain,” to whom we are indebted for the vogue of the word “assassin.”

Now when Luhrásp, descending from the throne
Resigned it to Gushtásp, he made him ready
To go to Naubahár in cherished Balkh,
Because he had become God's votary,
And men then held that fane in reverence,
Just as the Arabs reverence Mecca now.
He reached the fane, the Sháh, that man of God,
Dismounted there, and there at last he died.
He shut the portal of that glorious fane,
And let no alien enter it, assumed
The woollen raiment of a devotee—
The garniture wherein to worship wisdom—
Put off his armlets, let his hair grow long,
And set himself to serve the all-just Judge.
Upstanding in His presence thirty years,
Such is the way that men should serve the Lord,
He offered supplication to the sun,
According to the custom of Jamshíd.
Gushtásp, succeeding to his father's throne,
His Grace, and fortune, donned his father's gift,
The crown, fit ornament of noble men.
“I am,” he said, “a Sháh that serveth God,
And holy God hath given me this crown
That I might keep the wolves apart the flock.

Thus passed a while, and then a Tree appeared
On earth within the palace of Gushtásp,
And grew up to the roof—a Tree whose roots
Spread far and wide, a Tree with many branches,
Its leafage precept and its fruitage wisdom:
How shall one die who eateth of such fruit?
A Tree right fortunate and named Zarduhsht—
The slayer of malignant Áhriman.
Thus said he to the monarch of the world:—
“I am a prophet and thy guide to God.”

Time passed. The monarch's star was blessed.
Zarduhsht,
The old, said to the ruler of the world:—
“'Tis not accordant to our Faith for thee
To pay a tribute to the prince of Chín,
Nor consonant with custom and religion.
Moreover I can not assent thereto,
For no one of our Sháhs in days of yore
Hath yielded tax and tribute to the Turkmans,
Who all were impotent against Írán.”
Gushtásp assented, saying: “I will order
No tribute to be paid.”

A valiant dív,

On hearing this, went to the king of Chín,
And said to him: “O monarch of the world!
Throughout it all the people great and small
Agree in executing thy commands,
And not one cometh forth against thy spearpoint

The warriors of Chín agreed thereto,
And chose, moreover, from themselves two envoys,
The one a mighty man hight Bídirafsh,³⁷

Advanced in years, a warlock stout of heart,

—a sorcerer—
Whose thoughts were ever bent upon destruction.
The monarch wrote a fair and goodly letter
To that illustrious sovereign and convert:—
“First, I have written in the World-lord's name,
Who knoweth what is manifest and hidden,
This royal letter, worthy of a king.
To brave Gushtásp, the monarch of the earth,
The worshipful and worthy of the state,
The elect, the eldest son of Sháh Luhrásp,
Lord of the world and warden of the throne,
This from Arjásp, prince of the mighty men
Of Chín, a world-subduing cavalier,
And chosen hero.”

In that royal letter

He wrote fair greetings in the Turkman³⁸

script:—
“O famed son of the monarch of the world,
Who brightenest the throne of king of kings!
Fresh be thy head, thy soul and body hale,
Thy royal loins tight-girded. I have heard
That thou hast taken to disastrous courses,
And turned bright day to darkness for thyself.
A cozening old man hath come to thee,
Hath filled thy heart with terrors and alarms,
And with his talk of Hell and Paradise
Hath sown the seeds of folly in thy heart.
Thou hast accepted him and his religion,
Hast glorified his doctrine and his rites,
Hast flung aside the customs of the Sháhs—
The mighty of the world, thy predecessors—
And wrecked the Faith professed by paladins.
Why dost thou disregard the past and future?
Thou art the son of him on whom of all
The folk the glorious Sháh^38a

bestowed the crown,
And he chose thee among his choicest ones
In preference to the offspring of Jamshíd,

bedecked with gold and silver,
And trappings all inlaid with gems, and I
Will with the treasures send to thee boy-slaves
And handmaids—pictures all—with crispy locks.
But if thou wilt accept not this my counsel,
Then shalt thou feel my heavy iron bonds,

Now when the monarch's minister had finished
The letter, all the captains being present,
Arjásp rolled, sealed, and then delivered it
To those old sorcerers, instructing them:—

script.

of Khallukh like gleeds.”
Zarír, with glorious Asfandiyár,
And with that prosperous minister, Jámásp,
Departed with stern hearts and frowning looks,
And wrote a letter to Arjásp the foul—
A fit response. Zarír, chief of the host,
Took it still open, bare it to the Sháh,
And read it out to him. The world-lord marvelled
At that sage general and cavalier,
And at Jámásp, and at Asfandiyár,
Then fastened up the letter, wrote thereon
His name, and called to him the ambassadors.
“Take this,” he said, “and bear it to Arjásp.
Henceforth perchance ye will not tread my roads.
Were not safe-conduct for ambassadors
Enjoined expressly in the Zandavasta,

The monarch of the earth, when he had ended
His speech, sent for his general, greeted him,
Put in his charge the ambassadors, and said:—
“See them beyond the borders of Írán.”
The envoys left the presence of Gushtásp,
And went their way with dust upon their heads,
The Sháh dismissing them with ignominy.
From glorious Írán they reached Khallukh,
But in Khallukh were still inglorious.
As soon as they perceived the monarch's palace
Afar, surmounted by the sable standard,
They lighted from their proudly pacing steeds,
Their hearts were broken and their eyes were dim.
They went afoot before their sovereign,
With souls all darkness and with livid cheeks,
And gave to him the letter of the Sháh—
The answer of Zarír the cavalier.

race.
The writing in the letter of the prince,
The leader of the brave, the warrior-horseman,
Ran: “Thine insulting letter to the Sháh
Arrived, and I have listened to and marked
Words that were not becoming thee to utter,
Words that should not be written or divulged,
Not fit to be read out and hearkened to.
Thus spakest thou: ‘I will lead forth anon
A host against that jocund land of thine.’
For my part I need not four months or twain
Ere I lead forth my Lions of the fray.
Bring not upon thyself increase of toil,
Because I shall unlock my treasury,
And lead a thousand thousand warriors,
All men of name, all veterans in fight,
All offspring of Íraj, the paladin,
Not of Afrásiyáb, or of the Turkmans,^44a

All moon-faced men, all kings to look upon,
All upright in their stature and their speech,
All worthy of the empire and the throne,
All worthy of the treasure, crown, and host,
All spearmen and all swordsmen, all of them
The leaders and the shatterers of armies,
All brandishing their lances as they ride,
All with my name inscribed upon their signets,
All converts to the Faith, all men of wisdom,
All worthy of the earring and the armlet.

of the army, chosen men
Of Chín, came to Túrán from every quarter.

Thus in fierce wrath

He fared with full heart and with eyes all tears.

As soon as tidings came to Sháh Gushtásp:—
“The ruler of the Turkmans and of Chín
Hath made his preparations and set forth,
Dispatching to the front the brave Khashásh,”
He bade his general: “At dawn tomorrow
Array the elephants, lead out the host.”
He wrote a letter to his marchlords thus:—
“The Khán hath left the pathway of the great.
Come to my court-gate, all! because my foes
Are at the border.”

When the letter reached

Those nobles with this news: “There hath appeared
A foeman who ambitioneth the world,”
Troops gathered at the portal of the Sháh,
Out-numbering the grass-blades on the ground.
The warriors of the world girt up their loins
To aid the Kaian Sháh, the world-possessor,
And, as he had commanded, all the marchlords
Set forward to the court-gate of the king.
Anon a thousand thousand gathered round
The Sháh, that famous and benignant Kaian,
Who visited the camp, reviewed the troops,
And chose the fit. It joyed the glorious Sháh,
Whose heart was all astound at such a host.
Next day Gushtásp went with the archimages,
The chiefs, the great men, and the army-captains,
Unlocked the treasures hoarded by Jamshíd,
Gave to the soldiers two years' pay and then,

When he had reached Jíhún from famous Balkh
The captain of the army made a halt.
The Sháh departed from among the troops,
Alighted from his steed and, having mounted
Upon the throne, called unto him forthwith
Jámásp his counsellor, the chief archmage,
The first among the nobles, and the lustre
Both of the great men and the generals.
So pure in person was he, so devout
Of soul, that mysteries were revealed to him.
He was a mighty reader of the stars,
And who in point of knowledge had his standing?⁴⁸

Of him the Sháh inquired: “God hath endowed thee
With honest counsel and the good religion.
There is none like thee in the world; in short
The Ruler of the world hath given thee knowledge;
So make thy calculations of the stars,
And tell me all the aspect of affairs.
How will the battle go from first to last,
And which of us will meet disaster here?”

Gushtásp, according to Jámásp's advice,
When morning breathed and starlight disappeared,
Led down his chosen warriors to the field,
And, at the season when the scent of roses
Is wafted houseward by the breath of dawn,
Dispatched according to the Íránian custom
His scouts on every side. A cavalier
Approached and said: “O monarch of the world!
The enemy is nigh. So great a host
Ne'er came before from Turkistán or Chín.
They have encamped hard by and pitched their tents
On mountains, dales, and plains. Their general
Hath sent out scouts, and his and thine have met.”
Thereat high-born Gushtásp, the valiant Sháh,
Called for his general—glorious Zarír—
And gave to him the standard, saying: “Haste:
Array the elephants and arm the troops.”
The general went forth and ranged his host,
All fain to battle with the king of Chín.
Gushtásp gave one wing to Asfandiyár,
With fifty thousand chosen cavaliers,
Because he had an elephantine breast
And lion's heart. Upon the other wing
He stationed a select and goodly band,

Then Arjásp,

The monarch of the cavaliers of Chín,
In like wise ranged his forces and dispatched
A hundred thousand horsemen of Khallukh,
All brave and tried, to Bídirafsh, who had,
As general, the drums and golden standard,
Entrusting one wing of the host to him,
Whom not a lion loose would face. He gave
The other to Gurgsár, and gave withal
A hundred thousand chosen cavaliers.
In like wise in the centre of the host
He posted a select and goodly band,
And gave them to that stubborn sorcerer,
Námkhást by name, the son of Hazárán.⁵⁶

With chosen horsemen five score thousand strong,
Whose prowess was renowned throughout the world,
He took his own post rearward in reserve,
O'erlooking every portion of his powers.
He had one son, a man of high repute,
A veteran and pre-eminent in war,
A noble cavalier by name Kuhram
Above whose head much heat and cold had passed;
This son of his he set to oversee
The army and direct the strategy.

Then they wheeled

With lances, and the Sháh's son speared the Turkman,
Dismounted him, and, cutting off his head,
Flung down his goodly girdle to the dust;
Then wheeled before the warriors of Chín,
As though he were a mountain on the saddle.
In sooth eye never saw a man so goodly;
His beauty drew all eyes. Howbeit a Turkman
Let fly at him an arrow, and that prince,
That offspring of the Sháh, went to the winds.
Woe for that lost one reared so daintily,
Whose face his father was no more to see!

Then of the leaders of the host went forth
The brave son of Jámásp the minister,

Námkhást went forth to him: thou wouldst have
said:—
“That charger hath a mountain on its back!”
Those two accomplished horsemen wheeled about
With mace and lance, with shaft and scimitar,
But gallant Girámí had lion's strength;
That valiant cavalier could not withstand him,
And, though a man of battle, took to flight
On seeing that Kaian puissance and keen sword;
Then Girámí rode onward in fierce wrath,
With heart all raging to avenge the fallen,
And fell upon the centre of the foe.
Anon a blast rose from the mountain-skirt
As those two armies mingled in the mellay
And sent the dark dust flying. In the turmoil
That followed 'twixt the hosts, amid the strokes
Of scimitars and sable clouds of dust,
Fell from the Íránians' hands the splendid standard
Of Káwa. Girámí beheld that flag,
All indigo of hue, which they had flung
From elephant-back, dismounting lifted it,
Shook off the dust, and cleared the soil away.
Now when the warriors of Chín beheld him
Raise from the ground that flagstaff famed and dear,
And, after having cleansed it, bear it off,
Their bravest warriors surrounded him,
And, thus assailing him on all sides, struck
One hand off with a scimitar. He seized
The flag of Farídún^59a

between his teeth
And, strange to tell, plied with the other hand

beheld him not again.
Immediately went forth Nastúr, the Lion,
A warrior, Kaian-born, son of Zarír.
He slew a countless multitude of foes,
For he had learned to battle from his father,
And in the end returned victorious
And glad, and stood again before his sire.
Next there went forth the chosen cavalier,
Nívzár, son of the monarch of the world.
He rode a charger fleet of foot—a steed
Of thousands—came to that dark battlefield,
And shouted, saying: “Chosen warriors!
What man of name is there among you all,
What valiant, veteran wielder of the spear?
Let him confront me now with lance in hand,
Because a man of mettle fronteth you.”
The cavaliers of Chín rushed forth at him,
And strove to overthrow him. Brave Nívzár,
Who was the finest horseman in the world,
Like some wroth elephant and rending lion,
Kept wheeling round the warriors of Chín:
Thou wouldst have said: “He rolleth up the earth!”
He slaughtered sixty warriors world-renowned,
And nurtured all upon the dust of battle,
But in the end an arrow from a bow
Struck him as it had been a flash from heaven.
He fell from that fleet steed of goodly hue,
And died. Behold the end of combating!
Alas! that noble cavalier and Lion,
Who fell in vain—the image of his sire—
And woe is me for that fair face and form!
Now when that goodly cavalier was slain
The myriad warriors that were around
Engaged in every quarter of the field,
And raised the dust-clouds from earth's face. Two se'n-nights
Passed in that fight for not a horseman slept,

were filled with slain and wounded men,
The passage of the wind was barred by dust,
The dales and deserts were in tulip-dress,
And blood flowed over waste and wilderness.

In these oncounters two weeks passed away,
And all the while the fighting grew more fierce.
Then brave Zarír advanced before the host,
Bestriding his huge chestnut, threw himself
Upon the encampment of the enemy,
Like blazing fire and wind amid the grass,
Slew, and dispatched them to their last repose:
None that beheld withstood him. Then Arjásp,
Perceiving that the prince had slaughtered many
Of name, cried loudly to his warriors:—
“What! will ye let Khallukh go to the winds?
We have been fighting for two weary weeks,
And still I see no prospect of the end.
The warriors of Sháh Gushtásp have slain
Full many a man of name among our troops,
And now Zarír is in the midst of you,
As 'twere a fierce wolf or a rending lion,
And he hath slaughtered all my followers,
My noble Turkmans and my men of war!
We must devise a remedy for this,
Or trudge back to Túrán, for if this man
Continue thus he will not leave Áyás,

princes, warriors of Chín!
Regard ye not your kindred and allies,
Nor yet the wounded groaning 'neath the feet
Of one who is as a consuming fire,
With Sám's mace and the arrows of Árish,
Whose flames e'en now are burning up my host,
And scorching all my kingdom? Who is there
Among you all, one puissant of hand,
To go against yon maddened Elephant?
Whoever will attempt yon warrior-slayer,
And hurl him from his steed, upon that man
Will I bestow a treasury full of gold,
And raise his helmet higher than the sky.”
Still no man answered him a word. Arjásp
Was in amazement and his cheeks grew pale.
He spake the third time to the troops, but when
No answer came to him he held his peace.
At last the lusty Bídirafsh advanced—
The foul, that dog, that warlock, that old wolf—
And spake thus to Arjásp: “O mighty Sun,
In root and stem like to Afrásiyáb!

Thus fared the world's king

Till one, whose eyes poured blood-drops, came and said:—
“The Turkman horsemen wretchedly have slain
Thy Moon, the guardian of thy crown and host,
Him that was paladin of paladins—
Zarír the cavalier—for Bídirafsh,
The chief of all the warlocks of the world,
Hath overthrown him and borne off the standard.”
The world's king, hearing of that slaying, felt
Death visible. Down to the feet he rent
His robe, strewed dust upon his jocund crown,
And said to sage Jámásp: “What shall I say
To Sháh Luhrásp? How can I send to court
A messenger? How tell mine ancient sire?
Alas! that royal warrior! Alas!
Gone like the bright moon midst the clouds! Bring
hither
Luhrásp's Gulgún and set thereon my saddle.”
He made him ready to avenge his brother,
And carry on his Faith and precedent,
But “Pause!” said his experienced minister,
“Thy going to revenge is ill-advised.”
So, as that prescient minister enjoined,
The Sháh alighted and resumed the throne,
Thus saying to his troops: “What Lion is there
To take revenge for glorious Zarír,
And, urging forth his steed with that intent,
Retrieve my brother's saddle and his charger?
I swear before the Master of the world—
The oath of upright and of noble men—

Thereafter tidings reached Asfandiyár:—
“Zarír, that princely cavalier, is slain.
Thy father, overcome by grief for him,
Now purposeth to take revenge himself.”
The famous hero wrung his hands, and said:—
“What ill doth fortune spare us? When I saw
Zarír in fight I ever feared this day.
Woe for that horseman, warrior, and chief,
Whom fortune hath discrowned! Who slew that prince,
That valiant Elephant? Who plucked from earth
That iron Mount?”

Resigning to a brother

Flag, troops, and his own station, he advanced
Himself and reached the centre, girt his loins,
And seized the royal standard. Now he had
Five brothers, the adornments of the throne,
All men of high renown, the Sháh's compeers.
They held Asfandiyár in reverence,
Because it was his wont to shatter hosts.
That Mainstay of the troops said to those nobles:—
“Ye men of name and scions of the Sháh!
Attend to what I say, observe it well,
And trust the Faith of God, the Lord of all.
Know then, ye princes! that this is the day
Which will discern the false Faith from the true.
See that ye fear not death or anything,
For none will die but at his fated time,
And if so be that fated time hath come,
What is more glorious than to die in battle?
Heed not the slain, seek not for further help,
And count not heads. Put not your trust in flight,
And be not terrified at combating.

shall have the host, and I
Will crown him with a crown of royalty.”

Asfandiyár, the elephant-bodied hero,
Lord of the throne and terrible of form,
Heard what his father shouted from the mountain,
And hung his head for sorrow. Spear in hand
He came, bent modestly before his sire,
And then, as 'twere a dív escaped from bond,
Bestrode a stately grey, like blast on rose-leaves
Fell on the foe, slew, and beheaded them,
While all that saw him died of fright. Nastúr,
Son of Zarír the horseman, left his tent,
Went to the keeper of the steeds and bade

Replied

The Kaian-born: “O monarch of the world!
Go and avenge my sire, because my lord,
His black beard musk-perfumed, is left to lie
Upon the arid dust!”

Now when the Sháh

Heard, daylight blackened to him and the world
Loured on its lord; his elephantine form
Shrank, and “Bring forth,” he said, “my sable steed,
My battle-mail, and casque, because today
In wreak for him will I pour warriors' blood
In many a stream and light a fire whose reek
Shall reach to Saturn!”

When the warriors

Saw from the field—the hosts' dark scene of strife—
Their sovereign arming, and that he would go
To seek revenge, they said: “The king of kings,
And master of the world, will not go forth
To battle, seeking wreak, with our consent,
Else what need is there to array the host?”
The noble minister addressed the Sháh,
And said: “Thou shouldst not go upon the field.

The Sháh then gave his steed Bihzád, his helm
Of steel, and sable breastplate to Nastúr,
The slaughtered prince's son who, armed and mounted,
Rode forth between the opposing hosts and, halting
Before the battle of the enemy,
Heaved from his breast a deep, cold sigh, and cried:—
“Nastúr am I, the offspring of Zarír:
The lion dareth not encounter me.
Where is that warlock Bídirafsh who holdeth
The flag of Káwa?”

As no answer came

He urged along night-hued Bihzád, and slew
Full many a valiant warrior of the host,
While no one went forth to encounter him;
On this side too the brave Asfandiyár
Slew of them past all counting and compute.
Whenas the king of Chín beheld Nastúr—
That youthful paladin of Kaian race—
He cried out to his troops: “What man is this,
This spearman so accomplished, who hath slain
My chiefs in numbers numberless, unless
Zarír, the cavalier, hath come to life—
He that came out against me at the first,
And urged his charger in this selfsame way?
Where is the chosen warrior Bídirafsh?
Ho! summon him before me, and right soon.”
Then Bídirafsh went forth at once, he bare
The violet flag, was mounted on the charger
Of prince Zarír, and wore the prince's mail.

They wheeled—
Zarír's son and that chief of Turkman warlocks—
Contending with their scimitars and arrows.
Men told the glorious Asfandiyár,
The Sháh's son, of their combating, who made
All haste to go to them. Now when that chief
Of sorcerers beheld this, and perceived
What man now was advancing to assail him,
He urged his charger from amid the fray,
And hurled his baneful weapon at the prince
To darken if he might that radiant face;
It missed the prince, who caught it in his hand
And pierced—a hero's stroke—his foeman's liver,
So that the point came out the other side.
Thus Bídirafsh fell from his steed and perished,
Experiencing the might of Kaian birth.
Asfandiyár dismounted from his steed,
And stripping off the armour of Zarír—
The noble hero—from that ancient warlock,
Whose head he severed from its trunk withal,
He carried off the prince's glossy charger,
The flag, and head of worthless Bídirafsh.
The Kaian army raised a shout, all sent
Their clamour through the skies: “The prince hath
triumphed,
Hath overthrown the foe, gone forth, and brought
The dun steed back!”

The prince, that valiant horseman,

Brought to the Sháh Zarír's horse and presented
The head of that old warlock. Thus he slew
The slayer as by law and wont is due.

When great Asfandiyár had taken vengeance,
And saddled him the charger of Zarír,

The Turkman troops saw that Arjásp had fled,
That swords were flashing on all sides of them,
And all the chiefs, alighting from their steeds,
Came to the presence of Asfandiyár,
The hero, flung away their Turkman bows,
And doffed their mail. They said to him in anguish:—
“If now the prince will give his servants quarter
We will accept his Faith, will seek instruction
Therein, and all do worship to the Fires.”
The Íránian soldiery regarded not
Their words and smote and slaughtered till the world
Shone with their blood, but when Asfandiyár
Had heard the Turkmans' cries he granted quarter
For life and limb. That elephantine hero,
That princely scion of the royal race,
Made proclamation to his glorious host:—
“Íránian nobles! spare the men of Chín.
Now that our enemies have been o'erthrown
Restrain your hands from further massacre.
Give these dogs quarter, for they have enough

The troops,

On hearing what their leader said to them,
Gave themselves up to tendering the wounded.
They went back to their camp, beat kettledrums,
Because they had returned victorious,
And all that night slept not for joy, for Rustam
Himself might own to such a victory.
When night had passed away, and blood still ran
On wilderness and waste, the famous Kaian,
Escorted by the captains of the host,
Went forth to look upon the battlefield.
He wandered midst the slaughtered, shedding tears
O'er any known to him, but when he saw
His brother's corpse flung vilely on the field
He rent the royal raiment that he wore
And, lighting from his glossy steed Shúlak,
Clutched at his beard with both his hands, and cried:—
“Prince of the warriors of Balkh! by thee
My whole life hath been turned to bitterness.
Alack! O gracious form! O chief! O prince!
O warlike cavalier! O chosen hero—
My column and the curtain of the realm,
The Kaian lustre and the army's crown!”
He came near, raised the body from the dust,
And with his own hands wiped the dead man's face;
Then placed the body on a golden bier:
Zarír, thou wouldst have said, had ne'er been born.
The Íránian nobles and his own young kinsmen
He laid upon their biers, and gave command
To count the slain and carry off the wounded.
They searched the battlefield, the plains, and moun-tains,