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,

The famous Kaian, the triumphant Sháh,
Went from the battlefield toward his throne,
And bade Nastúr: “Tomorrow at the dawn
Conduct the army toward our glorious realm.”
That chosen chieftain had the tymbals sounded
At daybreak, and the army packed the baggage.
They turned back to the country of Írán,
Stout-hearted and prepared to fight again.
They passed by no one either killed or wounded,
But bore the wounded to Írán and gave them
To skilful leeches. Now on his return
The monarch of the world bestowed Humái,
His glorious daughter, on his eldest son,⁷⁴

And gave illustrious Nastúr the host,
According to the usage of the Persians,
Gave him ten thousand of that noble race,
World-questing horsemen, wielders of the lance,
Gave him command, and said: “O gallant spearman!
Go forth against the monarch of the Turkmans,
Pass through Áyás and through Khallukh, and slay
All that thou takest to avenge thy sire.”

That gallant swordsman

Replied: “'Tis thine to bid because thou hast
The kingship and the world.”

The famous Kaian

Gave him a golden crown, unlocked for him
The treasures, and committed to his charge
The conduct of Írán, because he had
The might of paladins, gave standard, wealth,
And host, and said: “Thy season for the throne
Is not yet. Mount thy saddle and convert
All nations to the Faith.”

The Sháh's son went—

A hero-slaying swordsman—with his host
To all the nations. Over Rúm he passed,
And Hindústán, passed ocean and the Gloom,

He hath ordered all.
Thou shouldst not now ask tribute of us, we
Have been converted and profess the Faith.
Send us the Zandavasta of Zarduhsht.”
When he had read the letter of the kings
He sat upon his throne and called his peers.
He sent the Zandavasta to each clime,
To every man of name and every chief,
And ordered that the famous paladin
Should go to all four quarters of the world.
Now no one, wheresoe'er that prince appeared
Dared to go forth to meet him in the fight,
But all folk placed themselves at his command,
While evil-doers vanished utterly.
Asfandiyár, when all had recognised
His sire, loosed from his loins the golden girdle,
Sat like a monarch on the royal seat,
And for a season rested with his host,
But called to him his brother Farshídward
And, having summoned troops and warriors,
Bestowed on him dínárs and drachms in plenty,
Gave Khurásán to him and so dismissed him.
Now when a while had passed, and when the world
Had grown all pure and convert to the Faith,

Mine author saith that when the Sháh bestowed
A royal crown upon Asfandiyár
There was a certain noble hight Gurazm,
A famous war-worn warrior, who cherished
A secret enmity against the prince.
I know not why it was, but I have heard
That this man was a kinsman of Gushtásp's,
And always ill-disposed toward his son,⁷⁸

And, when that prince's fame was noised abroad,
Was wont to slander and belittle him.
Once at the dawn of day the famous Sháh,
While sitting in the banquet-hall at ease,
Gave audience to the chosen of his host,
The magnates, kings, and others of high birth.

The great king cleared the hall,

And said to that deceiver: “Come to me,
Reveal the whole to me and what my son,
That man of serpent faith, concealeth from me.”
Gurazm, the ill-disposed, made answer thus:—
“To do the right thing is the part of wisdom.
The Sháh hath satisfied mine every wish,
And I must keep no secrets from the Sháh.
I will not keep my counsel back from him,
E'en though it proveth unacceptable,
I will in no wise keep it from my lord,
Though he should let me never speak again,
Because for me to speak, although he hear not,
Is better than to hide from him the secret.
Know then, O world-lord! that Asfandiyár
Is clearly bent on battle, troops have flocked
In multitudes, and all men turned, to him.

the second Mihr-i-Núsh, the third
Ázar Afrúz—a wary warrior—
The youngest Núsh Ázar; 'twas he that built
The Fane of Fire. Bahman said to his father,
That king of earth: “May thy head flourish ever!
My lord was laughing with a hollow laugh,
I know not why.”

Asfandiyár replied:—

“My son! one cometh to me from the Sháh,
Who is displeased with me and hath some grudge
Against his slave.”

The noble youth said: “Why?

What hast thou done against our sovereign lord?”
Asfandiyár made answer: “O my son!
I know of no offence against my father,
Unless it is that I have taught the Faith,
Have lighted sacred Fires throughout the world,
And purified it with my trenchant sword.
What can have made the Sháh's heart wroth with me?
In sooth the Dív must have seduced his heart,
For he is mad enough to wish to bind me!”
Now while Asfandiyár was thus engaged
The dust of the advancing troops appeared.
He saw it from the mountain-top afar
And, knowing that the messenger had come,

The sage Jámásp made answer:—

“He is both well and happy.”

Then he kissed

The prince upon the head and gave the letter,
Informing him with frankness of the case,
And saying: “The Dív hath led the Sháh astray.”
Asfandiyár said to that man of wisdom:—
“What seemeth to thee best for me herein?
If I set out with thee to go to court
My father will entreat me scurvily,
And if I go not with his officer
I shall no longer be a loyal liege.
Devise some remedy, thou ancient sage!
I may not rest in this bewilderment.”
The sage replied: “O prince of paladins,
So young in body and so old in knowledge!
Thou knowest that the best love of a son
Is not so tender as a father's wrath.
Thou must set forward, that is mine advice,
For, whatsoe'er he doth, he is the Sháh.”
This they agreed upon and went their ways,
The messenger and the exalted prince,
Who made Jámásp alight when they had reached
A goodly seat whereafter both drank wine.
Next day Asfandiyár sat on his throne
And, when he had brought forth the muster-roll,
Entrusted all the army to Bahman,
And setting forth with certain warriors,
His girdle girt, his crown upon his head,
Back to the court-gate of the great Sháh sped.

The Sháh on hearing that Asfandiyár,
His son, had come, crowned with the Kaian casque,

They brought in blacksmiths,

Yoke, chains, and heavy shackles, and then bound him,
Both hand and foot, before the king, the world-lord,
So straitly fettered him that all beholding
Wept bitterly. They brought an elephant,
Like indigo, and set Asfandiyár
Thereon. They bare him from his glorious sire,
With dust upon his head, to Gumbadán,
That stronghold on the mountain-top, conveyed

Thus many days passed o'er Asfandiyár,
The while Gushtásp departed to Sístán
To make the Zandavasta current there,
And archimages testify thereto.
As soon as the illustrious Sháh arrived
There went to him the captain of the host,
The ruler of Nímrúz, whose name was Rustam,
A veteran cavalier, another Sám,
In company with agèd Zál, his sire,
With mighty men and those about the court.
They carried minstrels in their train withal,
And posted them with harps along the route.
Thus went they forth to greet the glorious Sháh
Right jubilantly, and it liked him well.
They brought him to Zábul to be their guest,
And stood before his presence as his slaves.
From him they learned about the Zandavasta,
Adopted it, and lighted sacred Fires.
Two years passed thus in hospitality;
Gushtásp kept feasting with the son of Zál.
Throughout the world, wherever there were kings
That heard about the doings of the Sháh:—
“He hath confined Asfandiyár in bonds,
Hath galled his elephantine form with iron,
And gone to preach the gospel in Zábul
To blast the idols with the Cult of Fire,”
They one and all refused to do his bidding,
And brake with him completely.

Heard that his sire was prisoned by the Sháh,
And for no fault, Asfandiyár's brave meiny
Came grieving to him with the Kaian princes,
Fulfilled with tribulation and dismay,
And raised his spirits with their minstrelsy,
Not letting him be lonesome in his prison.
Then tidings reached the king of Chín: “The Moon
Hath fallen from the Archer into ambush.
The Sháh, wroth with Asfandiyár, dispatched him,
Dishonoured, to the hold of Gumbadán,
And started for Zábulistán himself
From Balkh to stay with Rustam, son of Zál,
Whose guest he now is at Zábul, and thus
Two years have passed away. Of all the Íránians
And soldiery none, saving Sháh Luhrásp
With seven hundred devotees of Fire,
Is left at Balkh.”

The monarch of Chigil

Called out his chiefs and heartened them to fall
Upon Luhrásp. “Know ye,” 'twas thus he spake,
“That Sháh Gushtásp hath marched with all his host
Sístán-ward and abideth at Zábul:
No cavalier is left in all his realm.
Now is the time for us to seek revenge;
We must take order and prepare ourselves.
His son, illustrious Asfandiyár,

I scanned the verses and esteemed them weak;
In many couplets there was much to seek,
But here have I transcribed them that the king
May know how inartistic verses ring.
Both jewellers have each a gem to sell;
Now let the Sháh give ear to what they tell.
If thou canst speak but in Dakíkí's vein
Speak not at all and spare thy nature pain,
And, mindful of the bondage and the toil,
Ne'er dig in mines whence thou wilt win no spoil.
Unless thou art as fluent as a stream
Lay not thy hand upon this royal theme;
'Tis better that all food should be abjured
Than that thou shouldest spread a tasteless board.
A book fulfilled with legends met my view,
Its words possessed of character and true,
Its stories very ancient and in prose;
The wits had never thought of rhyming those,
No one had thought of linking line to line—
A fact that struck this gladsome heart of mine.
Two thousand years had passed the story o'er,
Two thousand years and haply countless more,

Now will we tell the warfare of Arjásp
Afresh and by our insight clear the garth
Of weeds:—Arjásp had tidings that the Sháh
Had set forth with his host toward Sístán,
And gave commandment that Kuhram, the swordsman,
Should lead the troops before him, for Kuhram
Was eldest-born to him and raised his head
O'er radiant Sol. Arjásp said: “Choose thee horsemen
War-worthy from the host and haste to Balkh,
Which hath embittered and o'ercast our days.
Those of our foes, those worshippers of Fire,
Those Áhrimans, whom thou shalt take, behead,
Burn up their homes, and turn their day to night.
Smoke from the palace of Gushtásp must rise
And lick the azure sky. If thou shalt find
Asfandiyár with fetters on his feet
Put thou an end to him; part instantly
His body and his head, and make the world
Re-echo with thy name. Throughout Írán
The cities have been left at thy disposal,
The foe—the scabbard—left for thee—the sword.
I shall not loiter in Khallukh but follow
Apace, recall our scattered troops, and lavish
My hoarded wealth.”

Kuhram replied: “Thy bidding

Will I perform and pledge my life thereto.”
When from its waist the sun drew forth its sword,
And darksome night drew back its skirts therefrom,

For hall and palace decked with gold, they gave
Them and the Zandavasta to the flames.
The fane had eighty priests, God's worshippers,
And all before the Fire the Turkmans slew,
And swept that cult away. The Fire, that erst
Zarduhsht had litten, of their blood did die;
Who slew that priest himself I know not I.^92a

Gushtásp possessed a wife—a prudent dame,
Wise, understanding, and high-minded. She,
When she had dight herself in Turkman guise,
And mounted on a fleet steed from the stable,
Departed from the palace and set forth,
Aghast at what had happened, toward Sístán.
She tarried not to sleep at any stage,
And ran a two-days' journey into one.
Thus she continued till she reached Gushtásp
In grief with tidings of Luhrásp, and said:—
“Why hast thou tarried this long while and why
Didst thou depart from famous Balkh at all?
An army from Túrán hath reached the city,
And turned its people's day to bitterness.
All Balkh is full of sack and massacre;
Thou must return forthwith.”

Gushtásp replied:—

“What grief is this? Why mourn a single raid?
When I march forth all Chín will not withstand me.”
She answered thus: “Talk not so foolishly;
Things of great charge confront us now. The Turkmans

At length Gushtásp, when fortune had become
So ruggèd, showed his back. The enemy
Pursued him for two stages and were instant
To take him captive. In the way before him
There lay a mountain full of pasturage,
Wherein there were a mill-stream and a mill,
And having in its whole circumference
But one sole path: thereof Gushtásp was ware,

each leader slew
A steed and pondered on his helpless plight.
The proud Sháh, compassed thus, was sore dismayed,
And called to him Jámásp, the veteran,
Held talk at large about the stars, and said:—
“Declare whate'er thou knowest of heaven's will,
And wait not to be asked. Thou needs must tell
Who is to succour me in this distress.”
Jámásp, on hearing, rose and said: “Just king!
If now the Sháh will hearken to my words,
Confiding in the process of the stars,
I will discover to him what I know
If he will recognise my truthfulness.”
The Sháh replied: “Whatever secret thing
Thou knowest, tell it to me and be brief;
My head may touch the clouds, but heaven's changes
I cannot 'scape.”

Jámásp replied: “O Sháh!

List to my words and let me have thine ear.
Asfandiyár, the glorious, by thy bidding
Is wearing chains in this his evil day.
If he were set at liberty the Sháh
Would not be left on this high mountain-top.”
Gushtásp replied: “O trusty counsellor,
Who art a man of truth and of resource!

Jámásp said: “I

Will go, O king! because the case is urgent.”
Gushtásp rejoined: “O thou fulfilled with wisdom!
Thy virtues are as music to my soul;
Depart forthwith by night, greet him at large
From me, and say: ‘The man that did the wrong
Hath left this world with anguish in his heart,
While I, who acted as that little-wit
Desired, repent that I have done amiss,
And will prepare a goodly recompense.
Now if thou wilt put vengeance from thy heart,
And shalt bring down our foemen's heads to dust,
For else the realm and throne have reached their end,
And foemen will uproot the Kaian Tree,
On thee, if thou shalt come, I will bestow
Crown, treasure, and whate'er I have amassed
By toil, and will devote myself to prayer
Thenceforth as did my sire Luhrásp, the world-lord.
God is my witness to these words of mine,
As is Jámásp who is my counsello??
Jámásp attired him in Túránian mail,
And came down from the heights without a guide.

One of Asfandiyár's exalted sons,
Whom he named Núsh Ázar, was on the ramparts
To see who came forth from the Íránian host,
And advertise his sire. At sight of any
He used to hurry from the walls forthwith.
When he perceived Jámásp upon his way,
And on his head a fair Túránian helm,
He said: “A horseman from Túrán hath come:
I will descend and tell Asfandiyár.”
He hastened downward from the castle-rampart,
And spake on this wise: “Noble paladin!
I see a horseman coming in the distance,
And on his head there is a sable helm.
I will go see if he is from Gushtásp,
Or from Arjásp, a foe. If he shall prove
A Turkman then will I cut off his head,
And fling his feckless body in the dust.”
Said great Asfandiyár: “The traveller,
Since he is unattended, is but lowly.
In sooth he is a warrior from Írán,
And cometh unto us with some dispatch;
My sire hath put that helmet on his head
In apprehension of our valiant foes.”
When Núsh Ázar, the paladin, had heard
He went in haste upon the castle-rampart;

He had it opened,

The sage came in, did reverence and, coming
Before Asfandiyár, repeated to him
The message of Gushtásp, his sire, in full.
Asfandiyár replied: “O Memory
Of this world's heroes, wise, courageous,
And of exalted rank! why bow to one
In chains, for one in irons, hand and foot,
Is not of man's seed, but an Áhriman?
Thou givest me greeting from the king of kings,
So that thy heart is not informed by knowledge,
Since it is for Arjásp to greet me now,
Because the plain is all Íránians' blood.
They bound me innocent. Gurazm forsooth
Must be the Sháh's son, I be fettered thus!
Mine irons are my witnesses to God
That I have had injustice from Gushtásp,
And that Gurazm's words pleased Áhriman.
Such was the recompense of all my toil,
While for my treasury 'tis stocked with irons.
Oh! may I ne'er forget this injury,
And stultify my wisdom through thy talk.”
Jámásp replied: “O speaker of the truth,
World-taker, lion-thrower, bent on fame!
If thou art thus heart-wearied of thy sire
His throne is overturned; yet for the sake
Of pious Sháh Luhrásp, slain by the Turkmans
In battle, and of those God-fearing priests,
Who had the Zandavasta in their hands,
Of whom four score were slaughtered—archimages
And sages pure of heart, quenched in whose blood
The sacred Fire hath died within the fane—
Such ill deeds cannot be accounted lightly.

Asfandiyár

Thus answered: “Did Humái at any time
Remember me in my confinement here?
And, further, as for noble Bih Áfríd,
She never looked on me, as thou mightst say!
Why now should I distress myself for them?
No one from them hath ever come to me.
A father well may see to his own daughters,
A sire the better undertake for them.”
Jámásp replied to him: “O paladin!
Thy sire, the world-lord, with his soul all gloom,
Is now upon a mountain with his chiefs,
With tearful eyes and unfed lips; the Turkmans
Beleaguer him; henceforth thou wilt not see
His head and crown. The Maker will condemn
Thy disregard of love and Faith. Thy brethren,

Jámásp, on hearing this,

And noting how the captive's heart was seared,
Rose to his feet in sorrow and in anger,
With anxious heart and eyes fulfilled with tears,
And said to him: “O chief of paladins!
Although thy heart and mind are darkened thus,
What sayest thou of the case of Farshídward,
Who went so heavily on thine account?
Where'er he was, at fray or festival,
He was all pain and curses on Gurazm;
His body hath been slashed with scimitars,
Helm and cuirass are cloven, and his soul
Is breaking with his love for thee! Oh! pity
His weeping eyes.”

Asfandiyár wept blood, his heart was grieved,
He cried: “O wretched, valiant warrior!
O lion-hearted hero, chieftain, prince!
I have been wounded by those wounds of thine,
And I have bathed my cheeks in my heart's blood.”
When he became composed he asked Jámásp:—
“What was thy purpose in concealing this?
Give orders that some blacksmiths shall be brought,
And let them file the fetters from my feet.”
Jámásp fetched blacksmiths, and they brought with
them
Their heavy hammers and their files of steel.
They filed the rings, the rivets, and the chains,
And all the bridge-like fetters made in Rúm.
The bonds took long to file; the captive's heart,
Remiss no longer, grew impatient.
He said thus to a smith: “Thou awkward lout!
Thou bindest but thou canst not break the bonds!”
He drew his hands away, arose in dudgeon,
And, stretching out the chains to their full length,
Strained with his feet and struggled with his hands,
And brake in pieces fetter, ring, and chain.
The breaking of his bonds exhausted him,
The anguish overcame him and he swooned.
That reader of the stars who saw the marvel
Was full of praises of the noble prince.
Whenas the lusty hero had regained
His wits he ranged the bonds and chains before him,
And said: “These presents given by Gurazm
Have severed me from fight and festival.”

Night came like vengeful Áhriman, the bells

He spake and wanned;

That noble Lion, Farshídward, was gone.
Asfandiyár clutched at his own cuirass,
Marred all the painted silk, and cried: “O Lord
Supreme and holy! lead me to take vengeance
For Farshídward, to send the dust-clouds flying
From stones and water, from Arjásp to set
The blood a-stream, and give Luhrásp's soul peace.”
With heart all vengeance and with head distraught
He laid his brother's corpse upon the saddle,
Then mounted to the heights, his brother's body
Bound on the bay, and said: “What at this present
Can I achieve for thee, how raise thy charnel?

He answered them:—

“All that ye care for on the battlefield
Are sleep and feast. When tidings reached Kuhram:—
‘Asfandiyár hath made his passage through you,’
He said to me: ‘Take thy sharp scimitar,
And bring the Day of Doom upon their souls.’”
Then, mindful of the battle with Gushtásp,
He drew his scimitar and laid about him,
O'erthrew full many of them on the road,
And thence departed toward the Sháh's abode.

Asfandiyár climbed that high, flinty mountain,
And did obeisance when he saw his father,
Who seared at heart, arose, kissed, and caressed
His son's face, saying: “I thank God, my boy!
That I have seen thee happy and still ardent.
Regard me not with anger and dislike,
And be not slow to take revenge. Gurazm,
Malignant miscreant that he was, obscured
My heart toward my son, and ill hath come
Upon him for his calumnies, since evil
Befalleth evil men for their ill deeds.
Now by the Ruler of the world I swear,
Who knoweth all things open and concealed,
That if I prosper and o'ercome the foe
I will bestow the realm, the crown, and throne
On thee, establish many a shrine, and give thee
My secret hoards.”

Asfandiyár replied:—

“Let me find favour in the monarch's sight;
It will be treasure, throne, and crown to me
If he shall be content with me, his slave.

The chieftains blessed him saying:—

“Thou art our crown and falchion of revenge!
We all will pledge our lives for thee and make
The sight of thee the rapture of our souls.”
They spent the night in ordering the host,
And getting ready coat of mail and spear.
Gushtásp held further talk of fortune's ills
With glorious Asfandiyár and set
His eyes a-stream in telling of the blood
Of all those valiant youths that had been slain
Upon the battlefield, whose princely heads
Were now encircled by a crown of gore.
That very night the tidings reached Arjásp:—
“The son of Sháh Gushtásp hath come to him.
He hath slain many scouts upon the way,
And those that were not slaughtered showed their
backs.”
He was in dudgeon, called to him the magnates,
Held converse with Kuhram at large, and said:—

He bade to bring

The treasures and the steeds caparisoned—
The booty carried off from famous Balkh—
And charged Kuhram therewith. Arjásp possessed
Four sons, all younger than Kuhram, and these
Packed, and then loaded up a hundred camels,
Which went, each with a guide, by divers roads.
The king was full of terror and of haste,
He could not eat or take his ease or sleep.
There was among the troops a Turkman named
Gurgsár who came before the king, and said:—
“O monarch of the Turkmans and of Chín!
Fling not away thy glory for one man.
Yon host is smitten, beaten, and in flight,
Its fortune all astound, the Sháh himself
Is all consumed with grief, his sons are slain,
And who hath come except Asfandiyár
To help him? Yet thou break'st thy soldiers' hearts,
And woundest by thy words without a battle!
Wise kings fear not, poltroons cause ruin. No mace
Hath fallen on a helm nor arrow struck
A barded steed. I will encounter him,
If he come forth, and fling him to the dust.”

Departing thence

He led his whole host onward to the fray,
And shouted to the troops: “Where is Kuhram,
Whose flag is seen no more upon the right?
Where is Kundur, the swordsman, too—that taker
Of Lions who was wont to pierce the mountains
With spears and arrows?”

They informed Arjásp:—

“Asfandiyár, the hero, hath encountered
Gurgsár in fight and ta'en him prisoner,
Bold Lion though he was. The atmosphere
Is violet-dim with swords of warriors,
The banner blazoned with the wolf hath vanished.”
That portent grieved Arjásp. He bade to bring
The camels and then took the desert-route.
He and his courtiers rode those lusty beasts,
And led their chargers. Thus he left behind
His army still upon the battlefield,
While with his lords he fared toward Khallukh.

And drew the arrows from his mail, and then
The atheling, triumphant and unharmed,
Went forth and bathed him. Afterward he called
For raiment meet for worshippers and sought
The all-righteous Judge. Gushtásp, all fear and awe,
Made for a week thanksgiving with his son
Before the just Creator of the world.
Upon the eighth day, when Asfandiyár
Had come again, Gurgsár appeared before him,

Asfandiyár, on his return to camp,
Took counsel with the Sháh about Luhrásp,
And the revenge for Farshídward and all
Those men renowned upon the day of battle.
To him Gushtásp said: “Thou, O mighty man!
Rejoicest while thy sisters are in bondage.
Oh! happy they that died upon the field,
Not frantic with dishonour from the Turkmans!
When men behold me sitting on the throne
What will my subjects say? So long as life
Endureth I shall weep for this disgrace,
And burn within my brain. By most high God,
The Omnipotent, I pledge myself—if thou
Shalt go without disaster to Túrán,

Gushtásp invoked

A blessing on him, saying: “Now may wisdom
Be with thee ever, in thy going forth
May God protect thee, and the throne be thine
On thy return.”

He called the host together

From all parts where were warriors or archmages,
And from among them chose twelve thousand men,
All skilful cavaliers of high renown,
Distributing to them a donative
That well contented them. He furthermore
Bestowed upon Asfandiyár a throne,
And such a jewelled crown as monarchs use.
Then from the portal of the royal court
A shout rose: “Bring the princes' noble steeds.”
They bore the tent-enclosure to the plain,
They bore the eagle-standard, and the host
Marched out mid dust that gloomed the radiant sun.
From palace plainward went Asfandiyár,
And saw an army ready dight for war.

The poet, after inditing a Prelude in praise of Mahmúd, tells how Asfandiyár set forth with his host to rescue his sisters from the Brazen Hold; how he met with divers adventures by the way, captured the Brazen Hold by a stratagem, delivered his sisters, slew Arjásp, defeated the Túránians, and returned in triumph to his father.

In this Part the rivalry between the two greatest heroes of Íránian legend proper, the priestly and the popular hero— Asfandiyár and Rustam—may be said to get fairly under way. For the present it is a rivalry of achievement only. In Part III. it is a personal contention in which every faculty of mind and body is exerted to the utmost in a desperate struggle that results tragically for both protagonists. This rivalry in legend may be said to have commenced even in Part I., where, just as Rustam delivered Tús and the Íránian host when beleaguered by the Turkmans on Mount Hamáwan,¹¹⁶

so Asfandiyár delivers Gushtásp and his army in similar circumstances from Arjásp.^116a

In the present Part, however, the rivalry becomes more pronounced. As Rustam went alone to release Kai Káús from imprisonment in Mázandarán and encountered seven adventures on his way, so Asfandiyár goes to Túrán to rescue his enslaved sisters and has a similar series of difficulties to overcome. Again, just as Rustam twice donned merchant's garb, on one occasion to get possession of Mount Sipand,^116b

and on another to rescue Bízhan when captive in the pit,^116c

so Asfandiyár assumes a like disguise to win the Brazen Hold.^116d

We should notice further that though the parallel expeditions of Rustam and Asfandiyár pass under the same name,¹¹⁷

yet the priestly redactors of the latter's legend have taken care that his achievements should be attended with more pomp and circumstance than his rival's. Thus Rustam goes alone to Mázandarán,^117a

but Asfandiyár, whose princely rank has to be recognised, makes his expedition to Túrán accompanied by his brother and minister—Bishútan—and an army. This, however, is not allowed to militate against the merit of his exploits. When an adventure has to be achieved, the hero sets forth alone, while Bishútan and the troops remain at a respectful distance in the rear till all is over, and then come up to offer their congratulations. Again, Rustam sleeps through his first adventure —the killing of a lion—and only wakes up to find that his steed Rakhsh has done the business for him.^117b

Asfandiyár slays successively and single-handed two monstrous wolves and a lion and lioness.^117c

The third adventure of both is the slaying of a dragon.^117d

Rustam succeeds with the help of Rakhsh, Asfandiyár with the assistance of a break and pair of horses! In the next adventure both, after an interlude of wine, lute, and song, put to death a witch;^117e

Ghúl, however, whom Asfandiyár slays, is represented as being the more formidable of the two beguilers. Finally, the taking of the Brazen Hold and the slaying of Arjásp by Asfan-diyár ^117f

evidently is intended to eclipse Rustam's capture of Mount Sipand^117g

and his encounter with the White Dív in the cave.^117h

We may add that both heroes have a prisoner to guide them during part of their respective expeditions. Rustam rewards Úlád.¹¹⁷ⁱ

Asfandiyár slays Gurgsár.^117j

The champion of the Faith must not show a mistaken merey to infidels! Evidently, however, from what we have seen above, it was not considered enough that Asfandiyár should be merely a great religious hero; it was desired that he should be a great popular hero as well, and surpass Rustam on the latter's own ground, for Rustam's Haft Khwán obviously is the original one. There seems also to be a malicious hit at Rustam in Asfandiyár's fifth adventure,^117k

that in which he kills the Símurgh, the traditional guardian of the race of Zál. Popular legend, however, stood firm on behalf of its great hero; it refused to supersede him or to acquiesce in the death of the Símurgh; on the contrary, it kept the great bird alive so that it might compass indirectly its own revenge by providing Rustam with the means of vanquishing Asfandiyár. Worsted in this world, and to redress the balance, priestly tradition called in aid the next, and declared Rustam's lot therein to be an unhappy one. This conflict between the legends of the two heroes is typified in the story of their personal encounter in Part III., and we shall gather from Firdausí's splendid version of it, “the deepest conflict of soul in the poem and one of the profoundest in all national epics,” as Professor Nöldeke justly calls it,¹¹⁸

that after centuries probably of unconscious give and take the conflicting claims of the two protagonists were compromised, and their combined legend settled down into the marvellous equilibrium which now characterizes it.

A scene that, bright in sunshine, having spied
The tulip and narcissus still wet-eyed,
Will laugh and cry: “Ye minxes! thus again
I weep for love of you, not wrath or pain.”
Earth hath no laughter while the heaven is dry.
I do not call our great king's hand the sky,
Which only giveth forth its rains in spring,
For such is not the usance of a king.
As Sol, when it ariseth gloriously
In Aries, such shall the Sháh's hand be,
For whensoe'er there cometh to his hand
A wealth of pearls or musk from sea or land,
The radiance that is his he doth not scant
To proud-necked monarch and to mendicant.
Abú'l Kásim! our great Sháh's hand is still
Thus generous alike to good and ill.
He never slackeneth in bounteousness,
And never resteth on the day of stress,
Delivereth battle when the times demand,
And taketh heads of monarchs in his hand,
But largesseth the humble with his spoils,
And maketh no account of his own toils.
Oh! may Mahmúd still rule the world, still be
The source of bounty and of equity!

A rustic bard hath spread the board and there
Set forth “The Seven Stages” as the fare.
He took within his hand a cup of gold,
And of Gushtásp and of the Brazen Hold,
And of the doings of Asfandiyár,
His journey and the counsels of Gurgsár,
Spake thus:—Now when embittered, tongue and soul,
Asfandiyár reached Balkh he left his sire,
And set out with Gurgsár toward Túrán.
He marched until he came where two roads met,
And camped there with his host, bade spread the board,
And furnish wine and harp and minstrelsy,
While all the captains of the host drew near,
And sat at table with the king of men,
By whose directions presently Gurgsár,
In miserable plight, was brought before him,
And furnished with a golden goblet filled
Four times successively. Thereafter said
Asfandiyár to him: “Thou luckless one!
I will advance thee to the crown and throne,
Will give thee all the kingdom of the Turkmans,
And will exalt thee to the shining sun,
As soon as I return victorious,
If thou wilt tell me truly what I ask,

Gurgsár replied:—

“O famous, glorious Asfandiyár!
From me the king shall hear naught but the truth,
And be it thine to act the kingly part.”
“Where is the Brazen Hold,” Asfandiyár
Said, “for its marches march not with Írán?
What roads are there to it? How many leagues?
How can it be approached without mishap?
Say too how many troops there are within it,
And tell me what thou knowest of its height.”
“O kind and glorious Asfandiyár!”
Gurgsár replied, “three roads lead hence to what
Arjásp hath titled ‘Battlestead.’ One route
Will take thy troops three months, the second two.
The first hath water, grass, and towns, and chiefly
Pertaineth to the chieftains of Túrán.
The second road, that which will take two months,
Will furnish for the troops but little provand;
There is no grass or water for the beasts,
And thou wilt find no camping-grounds. The third
Will occupy but seven days; the troops
Will reach the Brazen Hold upon the eighth,
But that road is all lions, wolves, and dragons,
And none can scape their claws; yet mightier
Than lion, wolf, and savage dragon are
A witch's charms, who raiseth from the deep
One to the moon and flingeth to the abyss
Another headlong. There are wastes, símurghs,
And bitter frosts which rise like blasts and cut
The trees. Then will appear the Brazen Hold,
And none e'er saw, or heard of, such another.
It toppeth the dark cloud-rack. Arms and troops

The chieftain answered:—

If thou art with me thou shalt see the heart
And strength of Áhriman. What, sayest thou,
Will meet me first? What must I fight for passage?”
Gurgsár replied: “O famed and fearless man!
Two wolves, each like a lusty elephant,
A male and female, having horns like stags
And all a-gog to make a fight of lions,
Broad in the neck and breast and thin of flank,
With monstrous elephants' tusks, first will confront
thee.”
Asfandiyár then bade lead back Gurgsár
Bound as he was in miserable plight,
And blithe himself assumed his Kaian casque,
And held his court.

When Sol displayed its crown

On high, and heaven showed earth its mysteries,
The din of drums rose from the royal tent,
Earth turned to iron, air to ebony,
While in high spirits and with fair array
The prince set forward toward the Seven Stages,
And toward Túrán. When he approached the First
He chose a veteran among the host,

The steel-tipped shafts disabled both the beasts,
And neither could approach unscathed. With joy
Asfandiyár perceived them growing weak
And sore distressed, unsheathed his watered glaive,
And charged. He hacked their heads and made the
dust
Mire with their blood, lit from his noble steed,
Acknowledging his helplessness to God,
And washed the wolves' gore from his arms and person,
Then sought a spot that had not been defiled^123a

Upon the sand and turning toward the sun,
With troubled heart and checks besmirched with dust,
Exclaimed: “O righteous Judge! Thou hast bestowed
Upon me strength, Grace, prowess. Thou hast laid

When Bishútan came with the host

They saw the hero at the place of prayer.
The warriors were astonied at his exploit,
And all the troops thought: “Shall we call these wolves
Or lusty elephants? May such a heart
And sword and hand live ever! Never may
The throne of kingship, majesty, and feast,
And host lack him.”

The wary warriors

Approached and pitched the tent-enclosure round him;
They set a golden board whereat to dine,
Partook of victuals and called out for wine.

As for Gurgsár his portion was chagrin
About those fierce wolves and Asfandiyár,
Who bade the prisoner be brought before him.
They brought him quaking, with his face all tears.
The prince bestowed on him three cups of wine,
And asked: “What wonder shall I next behold
By thine account?”

He answered thus the chief:—

“O monarch crowned and leonine of heart!
Upon the next stage lions will assail thee,
Such as no crocodile would dare encounter;
The lusty eagle, valiant though it be,
Will fly not in their path.”

Asfandiyár

Laughed with light heart, and said: “O feckless Turk-man!
Tomorrow thou shalt see a valiant man
Address the lion with the scimitar.”
When night grew dark the monarch gave command,
And they resumed the march. He led the host
Apace amid the gloom, blood in his eyes,

Asfandiyár then ordered to his presence
The luckless and malevolent Gurgsár,
Gave him three goblets filled with rosy wine,
And, when the wine had cheered that Áhriman,

Rising from the ground like one

Awakening from a drunken drowse he sought
The water, plunged therein, and bathed, bespeaking
A change of raiment from his treasurer.
Then in the presence of all-holy God
He wallowed in the dust and wept, exclaiming:—
“Who could have slain that dragon if the World-lord
Had not assisted him?”

His soldiers too

Bent to the earth and praised the righteous Judge;
But thus to find alive Asfandiyár,
Whom he thought dead, was grievous to Gurgsár.

Asfandiyár pitched by the water-side
His tent-enclosure while the troops camped round him.
He set forth wine, called boon-companions,
Rose to his feet, and drank to Sháh Gushtásp,
Commanding too to bring Gurgsár who came
Before him, quaking. Then Asfandiyár
Gave him to drink three cups of royal wine,
Spake laughingly with him about the dragon,
And said: “Thou worthless fellow! now behold
How with its breath that dragon sucked us in!
When I go forward for another stage
What greater toils and troubles are in store?”
Gurgsár replied: “O conquering prince! thou hast
The fruit of thy good star. When thou alightest
Tomorrow at the stage a witch will come
To greet thee. She hath looked on many a host,
But quailed at none. She turneth waste to sea
At will and maketh sunset at mid day.

The atheling replied:—

“Tomorrow, knave! thou shalt recount my prowess,
For I will break the warlocks' backs and hearts,
So will I maul that witch, and trample down
Their heads by might of Him, the one just God.”
When day donned yellow weeds, and this world's
Lustre
Sank in the west, he marched on, packed the loads,
With prayer to God, the Giver of all good,
And led the army onward through the night.
When Sol had raised its golden casque, begemming
The Ram's face, and the champaign was all smiles,
The prince gave up the host to Bishútan,
And took a golden goblet filled with wine,
Called for a costly lute and, though he went
To battle, dight himself as for a feast.
He had in view a wood like Paradise;
Thou wouldst have said: “The sky sowed tulips
there.”
The sun saw not within it for the trees,
And streamlets like rose-water flowed around.
He lighted from his steed as seemed him good,
And, having chosen him a fountain's marge
Within the forest, grasped the golden goblet.
Now when his heart was gladdened with the wine
The hero took the lute upon his lap,
And out of all the fulness of his heart
Began to troll this ditty to himself:—

“Oh! never is it mine to see
Both wine and one to quaff with me,
But mine 'tis ever to behold
The lion and the dragon bold,
And not, from bales' elutch, liberty.

Tis not my lot to look upon
On earth some glorious fay-cheeked one,

V. 1596

Yet now if God will but impart
A winsome breaker of the heart
The longing of mine own is won.”

Now when she heard Asfandiyár the witch
Grew like a rose in springtide, saying thus:—
“The mighty Lion cometh to the toils
With robe and lute and goblet filled with wine.”
Foul, wrinkled, and malevolent she plied
Her magic arts amid the gloom and grew
As beauteous as a Turkman maid, with cheek
As 'twere brocade of Chín and musk-perfumed,
Of cypress-height, a sun to look upon,
With musky tresses falling to her feet.
Her cheeks like rosaries, she drew anear
Asfandiyár, with roses in her breast.
The atheling, when he beheld her face,
Plied song and wine and harp more ardently,
And said: “O just and only God! Thou art
Our Guide upon the mountain and the waste.
I wanted even now a fay-faced maid
Of beauteous form as my companion;
The just Creator hath bestowed her on me,
Oh! may my heart and pure soul worship Him.”
He plied her with musk-scented wine and made
Her face a tulip-red. Now he possessed
A goodly chain of steel which he had kept
Concealed from her. Zarduhsht, who brought it
down
From Paradise for Sháh Gushtásp, had bound it
About the prince's arm. Asfandiyár
Flung it around her neck; her strength was gone;
She took a lion's form. The atheling
Made at her with his scimitar, and said:—
“Thou wilt not injure me though thou hast reared
An iron mountain. Take thy proper shape,
For now the answer that I make to thee
Is with the scimitar.”

Within the chain

There was a fetid hag, calamitous,
With head and hair like snow, and black of face.

The head-piece of Gurgsár

Flamed at these triumphs of Asfandiyár.

The atheling laid face upon the ground
Awhile before the Maker of the world,
Then pitched his camp-enclosure in the wood.
They spread the board in fitting mode and then
Asfandiyár gave orders to the deathsman:—
“Bring hither in his bonds that wretch Gurgsár.”
They brought him to the prince who, seeing him,
Gave him three cups of royal wine. Now when
The ruddy wine had gladdened him thus said
Asfandiyár: “Thou wretched Turkman! mark
Upon the tree the head of that old witch,
‘Who turneth,’ so thou saidst, ‘the plain to sea,
And doth exalt her o'er the Pleiades.’
And now what marvel shall I see next stage,
Judged by the standard of this witch?”

He answered:—

“O Elephant of war in battle-time!
Upon this stage thou hast a harder task:
Be more than ever cautious and alert.

their wills to hers affined,
And when it flieth the earth is impotent,
The sun is put to shame. 'Twill profit thee
To turn back for thou canst not strive against
Símurgh and mountain-height.”

The hero laughed.

“A wonder!” he exclaimed. “I will sew up
Its shoulders with mine arrows, cleave its breast
With Indian scimitar, and bring its head
From height to dust.”

When bright Sol showed its back,

Which ruffled all the bosom of the west,
The chief of warriors led the army forth,
And pondered that account of the Símurgh.
Thus he and host fared onward all the night.
Whenas the shining sun rose o'er the mountains
The Lamp of time gave freshness to the earth,
Transforming dale and plain. Asfandiyár
Gave up the army to its chief^132a

and took
To steed and box and break. He sped along,
Like an imperious blast, and spying in air
A peak stayed in its shadow break and steed,
Absorbed in contemplation. The Símurgh
Marked from the mount the box, the troops behind it,
And all their trumpeting, and, swooping down
Like some dark cloud obscuring sun and moon,
Essayed to seize the chariot with its talons,
As leopard seizeth quarry, but transfixed
Its legs and pinions with the swords, and all
Its might and glory passed away. It beat

With that arose

The sound of clarions, and Bishútan
Set forward with the host. None could behold
The desert for the bird, but only saw
Its form and talons bathed in blood which covered
The earth from range to range, and thou wouldst say:
“The plain was lost in plumes!” Men saw the prince
Blood-boltered, 'twas a sight to fray the moon,
And all the captains, cavaliers of war,
And mighty men applauded him. Anon
Gurgsár heard tidings of that famed chief's triumph,
Quaked, paled, and fared with tears and heart all
anguish.

Asfandiyár, the illustrious prince, then bade
Gurgsár to come and gave him in succession
Three cups of wine whereat his cheeks became
Like bloom of fenugreek, and then the prince
Addressed him: “Miscreant in mind and body!
Observe the doings of this whirling world!
Evanished are Símurgh and lion, wolf
And dragon sharp of claw and valorous!”
Gurgsár then lifted up his voice and said:—
“O famous, glorious Asfandiyár!
God is thy Helper, O most fortunate!
The royal Tree hath come to fruit; howbeit
Tomorrow there confronteth thee a task
That none in war expecteth. Thou wilt take
No thought of mace or bow or sword, and see
No opening for fight, no way of flight,
For snow, a spear's length deep, will come upon thee,
A crisis will confront thee, thou with all
Thy famous army wilt be lost therein,
O glorious Asfandiyár! No marvel
If thou turn back, nor need my words offend thee;
Thou wilt be guiltless of this army's blood,
And quit this road for other. Sure am I
That earth will rive beneath a mighty blast,
The trees be levelled. E'en if thou shalt make
At last thy way through to the plain beyond
The next stage will be thirty leagues across,

all shifting sands.
Thus wilt thou fare along for forty leagues;
Men's souls will fail and horses lose all heart.
Thy host then will approach the Brazen Hold,
Which thou wilt find upon no fruitful spot.
Its soil is in the maw of poverty;
Its summit holdeth conclave with the sun.
Outside the castle beasts look not for food,
The army will not have a horseman left.
Though there should come a hundred thousand men,
Sword-wielders from Írán and from Túrán,
And should beleaguer it a hundred years,
And shower arrows there, it recketh not
How many enemies or few there be;
They are but as a knocker on the door.”
The Íránians heard Gurgsár, were pained, and said:—
“O noble prince! forbear with all thy might
To compass thine own ruin. If things are
As said Gurgsár we cannot blink that we
Came hither to our death and not to wreck
The Turkmans. Thou hast traversed this rough road,
And 'scaped disaster from wild beasts. Not one
Of all our warriors and heroic Sháhs
Can reckon up so great a tale of toils
As thou hast met with in these Seven Stages.
So thank the Maker for it all, and since
Thou wilt return victorious thou mayst go
Light-hearted to the Sháh, while if thou marchest
To war elsewhere the whole state of Írán

On hearing this

That young, heroic paladin replied:—
“Why fray me thus and open for yourselves
The door of terror? Came ye from Írán
To counsel then and not for high renown?
If this was then the mind of all of you
Why did ye gird yourselves to fare with me
Since at this miserable Turkman's words
Ye tremble like a tree? Where then are all
The counsels and the presents of the Sháh,
The golden girdles, thrones, and diadems,
Where all your oaths, your bonds, and covenants
By God 'neath favouring stars that now your feet
Should falter thus and one march wreck your plans?
Turn back then happy and victorious,
But as for me may I seek naught but fight.
The World-lord is my conquering ally,
And fortune's head reclineth on my breast.
Now by my manhood I will none of you
As comrades whether I am slain or slay,
And by my manhood, might of hand, and triumph
Will show the foe what prowess is. Withal
Ye shall not lack for tidings of my Grace
Imperial, famed, and that which I have wrought
In His name, who is Lord of Sun and Saturn,
Upon this stronghold by my might and manhood.”
The Íránians looked upon Asfandiyár,
Beheld his eyes all wrath, and went before him

Their leader, hearing this,

Grieved for his words and praised the Íránians.
“Prowess,”
He said, “will show itself. If we return
Victorious we shall enjoy the fruits
Of our past toil; it will not be forgotten,
And your own treasuries shall not be void.”
The prince took counsel till the world grew cool,
And zephyrs wafted from the mountain-top,
Then trump and clarion sounded from the court-gate,
And all the host set forward, sped like fire,
And called upon the Maker. When the dawn
Rose o'er the mountain-tops, and night drew o'er
Her head her filmy wimple as a veil
Against the blazing sun which pressed behind,
That mighty host—all mace-men clad in armour—
Reached their next stage. It was a glorious day
In spring, a day to gladden heart and world.
The prince bade pitch the tent and tent-enclosure,
Then had the board spread and the wine brought forth.
With that there came a fierce blast from the mountains,
And sore dismayed him. All the world became
Like ravens' plumes, and none knew plain from upland.
From that dark cloud descended showers of snow;
The earth was filled with snow and raging blast,
And o'er the desert for three days and nights
The fury of the wind was measureless.

Then Bishútan

Made prayer to God, who is the Guide to good,
While all the soldiers lifted up their hands,
And offered supplications numberless.
Thereon a gentle breeze arose which bare
The clouds away and heaven became serene,
And when the Íránians had taken heart
They offered thanks to God. They stayed three days
And, when the world's Light shone upon the fourth,
The leader called the officers to him,
And spake to them at large and graciously:—
“Leave baggage here and take but gear of war.
Let every chief that hath a hundred beasts
Load half of them with water and supplies,
The other half with means of serving them.
Leave all the other baggage here, for now
The door of God is opened unto us.
When any man hath lost all hope in God
His portion of success is small indeed;
But we by help of God shall overcome
That evil-doer and idolater,
While ye shall be the richer for yon hold,
And all have crowns and treasures.”

Drew o'er its head its yellow veil, and when
The west became like flower of fenugreek,
The warriors, having loaded up the beasts,
Marched with the king of men. Now in the night
A sound of cranes came from the sky above.
Asfandiyár was wrathful at the sound,
And sent this message to Gurgsár: “Thou said'st:—
‘There is no water for thee on this stage,
Nor rest nor sleep withal.’ Yet cranes give note
Above! Why didst thou make us dread a drought?”
Gurgsár replied: “The baggage-beasts will get
But brackish water here, and thou wilt find
The fountains poisonous, though birds and beasts
Use them.”

The chief said: “In Gurgsár have I

A hostile guide.”

He bade the host proceed.

Invoking God they hurried on at speed.

When one watch of the darksome night had passed
There rose a clamour from the plain in front.
The young prince, smiling on his charger, rode
Forth from the centre of the army vanward.
When he had ridden past the troops he saw
A deep, unfathomed river. Now a camel,
One of the caravan whose cameleer
Had kept it in the front, had tumbled in.
The chieftain seized and dragged it from the mud,
And that malignant Turkman of Chigil
Quaked. At the bidding of the prince he came—
That fell Gurgsár—both seared of heart and fettered.
“Base villain!” said the prince, “why hast thou used
This snake-like subtlety? Didst thou not say:—
‘Here thou wilt find no water, and the sun

He said: “Thy host's destruction

Would be as bright to me as sun and moon.
I get from thee but fetters; what should I
Wish but thy bale and loss?”

The chieftain laughed,

Stared, was amazed at him, but showed no wrath,
And said: “Gurgsár, thou man of little wit!
When I return victorious from the fight
Thou shalt be captain of the Brazen Hold:
Far be from me to harm thee. All the realm
Is thine if thou wilt give me honest counsel.
I will not hurt thy children, kith, or kin.”
Gurgsár grew hopeful at the words. In wonder
He kissed the ground and asked to be forgiven.
The prince replied: “Thy words are passed, but water
Hath not been turned to land by thy wild talk.
Where is the ford? Thou must direct us right.”
Gurgsár rejoined: “No arrow plumed and pointed,
When ironed thus, can find its way across.
Thou shalt work magic with the mighty stream
If thou wilt but unfetter me.”

The hero

Astonished bade to loose him, and Gurgsár,
When he had seized a camel by the halter,
Descended to the stream and at a spot
That was within his depth essayed the passage.
The soldiers followed him in single file.
Inflating at Asfandiyár's behest
Their water-skins forthwith, and binding them
Along the barrels of their beasts of burden,
They all plunged in. The host and baggage reached
Land, and reforming to the left and right
Marched till the Brazen Hold was ten leagues off.

They told about Arjásp

At large and of the hold. “Observe,” they said,
“How long and wide it is! One gate is toward
Írán and one toward Chín, while in it are
A hundred thousand swordsmen—all renowned,
Exalted cavaliers—yet all of them
Are slaves before Arjásp and bow the head
To his command and counsel. There is provand
Past all compute with stores of grain in case
Fresh food should fail, while if the monarch closed
The gates for ten years there is food enough,
Great though his host is, while, if he so willed,
A hundred thousand noble cavaliers
Would come to him from Chín and from Máchín.
He hath no need of aught from any one,
For he possesseth provand and defenders.”
They spake. His Indian sword the chieftain drew,
And put to death the simple-minded two.

Thence he departed to his camp-enclosure.
They cleared the place of strangers, Bishútan

Hath come.”

The dealers and the nobles went;

To buy, and asked the owner: “What hast thou
Of use within these bales?”

He made reply:—

“The first thing is for me to see your king,
And show my wares to him. When he commandeth
I will display them to your eyes.”

He loaded

One of the camels and himself proceeded.
To see how he could make his market quickly.
He took a goblet filled with royal gems,
And many a piece of gold to give in largess,
Some signets set with ruby and with turquoise,
A steed, and ten bales of brocade of Chín.
He draped the goblet in a piece of silk,
Perfumed throughout with musk and spicery,

Arjásp replied:—

“Be happy and secure from every ill;
No one shall do thee hurt within Túrán,
Nor when thou goest to Máchín and Chín.”
At his command they gave Asfandiyár
Within the Brazen Hold a spacious dwelling—
A warehouse with a mansion at its back¹⁴⁵

—
And thither brought the baggage from the plain
That he might make the warehouse a bázár,
And keep his goods in safety. They departed,
And led the camels, after loading them.
A shrewd man asked: “What is inside the chests?”
A cameleer replied: “Our wits, for we
Must carry them themselves.”

Asfandiyár

Prepared the warehouse, decking it to look
Like flowers in spring. On all side buyers sprang up,
And there was busy trafficking within it.

Arjásp smiled, showed him favour,

Assigned him a more honourable seat,
And asked: “What is thy name?”

He said: “Kharrád,

A merchant, traveller, and well to do.”
The king replied: “O noble man! concern not
Thyself with more excuses. Ask no longer
For audience through the chamberlain, but come
Before me when thou wilt.”

He then inquired

About the labours of the road, Írán,
The Sháh, and host. Asfandiyár replied:—
“My journey hath been five months' pain and toil.”
The king said: “In Írán what tidings were there
Both of Asfandiyár and of Gurgsár?”
He said: “My gracious lord! folk speak of them,
Each as his fancy is: ‘Asfandiyár,’
Said one, ‘is in revolt for injuries
Inflicted by his sire.’ Another said:—
‘He is advancing by the Seven Stages
In haste to fight Arjásp; he will attempt
War with Túrán and boldly seek revenge.’”
Arjásp replied with smiles: “No man of age
And knowledge of the world would talk like that!

Now when the bright sun set and buying ceased
The sisters of Asfandiyár descended
Lamenting from the palace to the street,
And bearing water-jars upon their shoulders.
They came heart-broken and in deep dejection
Toward Asfandiyár who, when he saw
That monstrous spectacle, concealed from view
His features from his sisters, for his heart
Misdoubted how they might comport themselves,
And so he hid his face behind his sleeve.
They both drew near him and the cheeks of each
Were running with the torrents from their eyes.
The hapless ones began to question him—
That wealthy man of merchandise—and said:—
“May all thy days and nights be prosperous,
The nobles be before thee as thy slaves!
What tidings hast thou from Írán, brave chief!
Both of Gushtásp and of Asfandiyár?
We twain, the daughters of the king of kings,
Are captives in the hands of wicked men,
And carry water, bare-foot and unveiled.
Our sire hath merry days and peaceful nights,
While we fare naked in the throng. How blest
Is she that hath a shroud to cover her!
The tears that we are shedding are of blood:
Be our physician and relieve our pain.
If thou canst tell us aught of Sháh and home
Our bane here will be changed to antidote.”

The young man left

The warehouse, hurried to Arjásp, and said:—
“O king! be happy, master of the world,
And live for ever. While upon my journey
I chanced upon a deep sea all unknown
To merchantmen. A whirlwind rose thereon;
The boatman said: ‘I mind me of no like.’
On board we all were wretched and in tears,
Consuming for our persons and our lives.

Arjásp

Said: “Go the way that pleaseth thee; the host
Is king at home.”

The paladin rejoicing

Conveyed a mass of firewood to the ramparts.
They slaughtered steeds and sheep, and carried them
Up to the summit of the hold. The wood
Sent up a smother that obscured the sky.
He brought forth wine and, when they had partaken,
Each reveller became a slave thereto.
The chiefs all left bemused; to steady them,
While in their cups, each clutched a narciss-stem.¹⁵⁰

He told Turkhán:—

“Exalted chief! speed forth with troops for fight.
Take thou ten thousand of the garrison,
All men of name and battle-loving swordsmen,
Discover who are our antagonists,
And why it is that they attack us thus.”
Turkhán, the chief, with an interpreter
Went in all haste to that side of the hold.
He saw a host equipped with arms and armour,
Their flag a leopard on a sable ground.

The words distressed the heart of king Arjásp,
Because the old feud had revived again.
He gave the Turkmans orders: “Go ye forth
Upon the plain in mass, surround the foe,

The soldiers marched away

With wounded hearts and eager for the fray.

Asfandiyár, when night was growing dark,
Arrayed himself again in fighting-gear,
Undid the chest-lids that more air might come
To those inside, and brought kabáb and wine
With other provand, battle-mail, and raiment.
When they had caten he supplied to each
Three cups of wine, which gladdened them, and said:—
“This night is one of bale. Hence we may well
Win fame. Put forth your powers. Quit you like men,
And from calamities make God your refuge.”
Then of those warriors adventurous
He formed three troops, one in the stronghold's midst
To combat any that they met, the second
To move upon the gate and take no rest
From strife and bloodshed, while he told the third:—
“I must not find hereafter any trace
Of those that revelled with me yesternight,
So take your daggers and behead them all.”
He went with twenty valiant men of war
In haste, committing to them other work,
Went boldly to the palace of Arjásp,
Arrayed in mail and roaring like a lion.
Humái, when these shouts reached her in the palace,
Came rushing with her sister Bih Afríd,
Their cheeks all hid by tears, to meet the chiefs.
Asfandiyár perceived that spring-like pair

This said, he turned from them,

And vengeful sought the palace of Arjásp.
He entered with an Indian sword in hand,
And slaughtered all the nobles that he saw.
The audience-chamber of that famous court
Was blocked, its floor was like a billowing sea,
So many were the wounded, stunned, and slain.
Arjásp awoke, was troubled at the din,
Arose in fury, donned his coat of mail
And Rúman helm, a bright glaive in his hand,
The war-cry on his lips and rage at heart.
Asfandiyár rushed from the palace-gate,
And, clutching with his hand a glittering sword,
Cried to Arjásp: “Now will this merchantman
Supply thee with a sword that cost dínárs.
I give it as a present from Luhrásp,
And on it is impressed Gushtásp's own seal.
When thou shalt take it thine heart's blood will flow,
And thy next stage will be beneath the dust.”
They closed in strife outrageous, foot to foot
With sword and dagger, striking whiles at waist
And whiles at head. Arjásp failed 'neath the blows;
He was a mass of wounds; his huge form sank,
And then Asfandiyár beheaded him.
Such is the fashion of life's changeful day!
Thou hast by turns its sweetness and its bane.

Whenas the moon had left her silvern throne,
And when three watches of the night had passed,
The watchman shouted lustily, proclaiming:—
“Gushtásp, the Sháh, hath gained the victory,
And may Asfandiyár be ever young.
May heaven, moon, and fortune be his helpers,
Who hath in vengeance for Luhrásp beheaded
Arjásp and, adding lustre to our Grace
And customs, cast him down from throne to dust,
And made the name and fortune of Gushtásp
Resplendent.”

Hearing such a cry the Turkmans

All listened while Kuhram grew dark of heart
By reason of that watchman, was astonied,
And spake thus to Andarímán: “How clear
This cry is in the night! What, sayest thou,
Can be the cause? Let us consult, for who
Would dare to bawl thus by the monarch's couch
And after dark? What tricks might such an one
Play in the day of battle and thus bring
Our nobles into straits! So send and have
His head cut off, whoever he may be.
If one of our own household is our foe,
And he is backing up our enemies

this host.”

Kuhram was straitened

At heart about that watchman, writhed, and frowned.
He told the troops: “These men have filled my
heart
With dread about the king. We must return
At once, past question. What may happen after
I know not.”

So that night they left the field,

Whereat Asfandiyár, with ox-head mace
And mailed, pursued them. When Kuhram had
reached
The portal of the hold, and saw the Íránians
Pursuing, “What is left us,” he exclaimed,
“Unless to fight with brave Asfandiyár?
Unsheathe and send your message by the sword.”
But fortune frowned and those famed chiefs fared ill.
The two hosts raged and smote each other's heads
Till morning came, and then the chiefs of Chín
Had had their day. Ascending to the ramparts
The warriors of Asfandiyár inside
The hold flung down therefrom the severed head
Of brave Arjásp—the king that slew Luhrásp.
The Turkmans fought no longer, from their host
Arose a cry, and all the troops unhelmed.

The soldiers longed

For death, and from Khallukh up to Taráz
Was universal anguish. In the end
They all of them advanced to certain death,
Advanced in armour with their helms and casques.
Rose from the battlefield the sound of strife,
The air above was like a dusky cloud.
The slain lay everywhere in heaps, the plain
Was thick with trunkless heads and limbs; else-where
Lay hands and maces, while a wave of blood
Rose at the portal of the hold, and who
Could tell left hand from right? Asfandiyár
Advanced; Kuhram, the captain of the host,
Opposed him; and those warriors grappled so
That thou hadst said: “They are one!” The peerless
chief
Took by the waist Kuhram, whirled him aloft—
A wondrous feat—and dashed him to the ground
While all the Íránian army roared applause.
They bound his hands and bore him off in shame,
And all his splendid armament dispersed.
Then maces fell like hail, the earth was full
Of Turkmans, and the air was charged with death;
Heads showered beneath the swords like leaves from
trees;
One side lost all, the other gained a throne;
Blood dashed in billows on the battlefield;
Here heads were trampled and there heads were
crowned.

living, sent out troops on all sides,
And when they lighted on some chieftain's seat
His orders were that they should burn it down:
They wrecked thus all the cities of Túrán;
No man of name was left in any place,
And not a horseman in Túrán or Chín.
Thou wouldst have said: “There rose a murky cloud,
And poured down fire upon the battlefield.”
The atheling, with matters in this trim,
Brought wine and gathered all the chiefs to him.

Asfandiyár called for a scribe and told
The story of his stratagem and fight.

And all Írán re-echoed with the news.
Now when they had returned the cameleers
Came to the exalted chief who had no peers.

Asfandiyár, when he had read the letter,
Distributed dínárs and made an end,
Reserving but the treasure of Arjásp,
While lavishing the treasures of his kinsmen:
The troops were all enriched beyond compute.
On plain and mountain there were steeds and camels,
All brand-marked by the monarch of Túrán.
Ten thousand head of these Asfandiyár
Collected from the plain and mountain-top,
And bade his men to load of them a thousand
With gold out of the royal treasury,
Three hundred with brocade and thrones and casques,
Five score with musk, with ambergris, and jewels,
Five score with crowns and splendid diadems,
One thousand with brocaded tapestries,
Three hundred with the native stuffs of Chín,
With hides both raw and tanned and painted silks
He furnished litters with brocaded curtains,
And carried off from Chín two troops of girls,
With cheeks like spring and tall as cypress-trees,
With reed-like waists and pheasant-like in gait.
A hundred ladies, beautiful as idols,
Went with the sisters of Asfandiyár.
Five ladies of the kindred of Arjásp—
His mother, his two sisters, and two daughters—
Toiled on in misery and wretchedness,
In pain and grief and stricken to the heart,

Told is the story of the Stages Seven,
Peruse it in His name—the Lord of Heaven,
Lord of the sun and of the shining moon,
Him who alone hath power for bale or boon.
If this tale please our conquering monarch's eye
I set my saddle on the circling sky.
The time to quaff delicious wine is now,
For musky scents breathe from the mountain-brow,
The air resoundeth and earth travaileth,
And blest is he whose heart drink gladdeneth,
He that hath wine and money, bread and sweets,
And can behead a sheep to make him meats.
These have not I. Who hath them, well is he.
Oh! pity one that is in poverty!
The garth is strewn with rose-leaves and each hill
With tulip and with hyacinth, and still
The nightingale complaineth in the close,
And at its plaining burgeoneth the rose.
At night it never ceaseth to complain;
The rose is overcharged by wind and rain.
I see the cloud's sighs and its tears, but why
The narciss should be sad I know not I.
The nightingale bemocketh rose and cloud;
Perched on the rose it carolleth aloud.

Asfandiyár, finding that his father still is disinclined to abdicate, makes a formal application to him to do so. Gushtásp, having ascertained his son's destiny from the astrologers, sends him to bring Rustam in chains to court. Asfandiyár sets forth very unwillingly. Long negotiations with Rustam follow.

At length the two engage in single combat, and in the end Rustam, by the help of the Símurgh, is victorious. He brings up Asfandiyár's son, Bahman, at his own home. Gushtásp sends for Bahman, and appoints him to succeed to the throne.

“A man there is,” said Muhammad in the Kurán, “who buyeth an idle tale, that in his lack of knowledge he may mislead others from the way of God, and turn it to scorn:—For such is prepared a shameful punishment!”¹⁶⁶

The reference is to a certain merchant, Nadr the son of Hárith by name, who had brought back from the banks of the Euphrates the story of Rustam and Asfandiyár, and recited it to the inhabitants of Mecca, where it became for a time much more popular than Muhammad's own deliverances. The Prophet never forgave Nadr, who was one of the two prisoners put to death by him after the battle of Badr, A.D. 623. It is evident, therefore, that the story contained in this part was well established at the beginning of the seventh century of our era. Reference already has been made^166a

to the compromise arrived at in Íránian legend between the conflicting claims of Rustam and Asfandiyár, and the reader will find it fully set out in the following pages.

§ 22. The Alwá slain by Núsh Ázar is identical probably with the Alwá previously recorded to have been slain by Kámús.¹⁶⁷

They are both warriors and natives of Zábulistán, and the function of both is the same—to give the enemy a temporary triumph which is counteracted by the intervention of a stronger champion. Alwá reappears as we are dealing with a different legend.

I heard a story from the nightingale,
Which it reciteth from the lays of old,
How, when Asfandiyár bemused with wine
Came forth in dudgeon from the royal palace,
His mother, Cæsar's daughter, Katáyún,
Took him to her embrace. When midnight came
He wakened from his drowse, called for the wine-cup,
And babbled to his mother, saying thus:—
“The Sháh is treating me injuriously.
He said: ‘When by thy valour thou shalt take
Revenge on king Arjásp for Sháh Luhrásp,
Shalt free thy sisters from captivity,
And win us high renown throughout the world,
Shalt weed it utterly of malcontents,
And renovate it by thy labours, then
The whole realm and the army shall be thine,
And therewithal the treasure, throne, and crown.’
Now when the sky shall bring again the sun,
And when the Sháh shall wake, I will recall

Asfandiyár

Replied: “How goodly was the sage's saw!
‘Thy secret unto women ne'er confide,
For thou wilt find it in the street outside;
Moreover do not as she biddeth thee,
For woman good at rede thou ne'er wilt see.’”
With frowning face and all abashed his mother
Repented of her words. Asfandiyár,
Howbeit, went not to Gushtásp but spent
His time with minstrelsy and boon-companions.

on hearing this,
Looked at his ancient astrologic tablets,
While sorrow filled the lashes of his eyes
With tears, and knowledge all his brow with frowns.
He said: “Ill are my days and ill my stars,
And knowledge bringeth ill upon my head.
Would fate had cast me to the lion's claws,
Preventing glorious Zarír; then I
Had not beheld him flung upon the ground,
All dust and blood; or would that mine own sire
Had slain me ere ill fortune reached Jámásp!
Although Asfandiyár in combat now
May rend a lion's heart by his attack;
Though he hath cleared the world of enemies,
And knoweth neither fear nor dread in fight;
Though he hath made the world to fear no foe,
And cloven the dragon's form in twain, hereafter
We shall have reason to lament for him,
And taste enough of woe and bitterness.”
The Sháh exclaimed: “O admirable man!
Speak out and turn not from the path of knowledge.
If he shall fare as did the chief Zarír
To live will be henceforth an ill to me.

Jámásp replied:—

“Will not ill fortune reach me too, O king?
His death will be within Zábulistán,
And at the hands of Zál's heroic son!”
The Sháh replied: “Give this affair due weight.
If I resign to him the imperial throne,
The treasure, and the crown of majesty,
He will not even see Zábulistán,
And none will know him in Kábulistán;
He will be safe from every turn of fortune,
And favouring stars will be his monitors.”
The astrologer rejoined: “Who can escape
The process of the sky? None can avoid
By courage or by might the sharp-clawed Dragon
Above our heads. What is to be will be
Past doubt, the when the wise seek not to know,
Although Surúsh be lying at his feet
The prince will perish by a great man's hand!”
The monarch mused, his mind a brake of thoughts;
He pondered on the processes of time,
Which in their turn instructed him in crime.

When night had gathered up its reins and gone,
And when the dawn had raised its shining spear,
The Sháh sat down upon the throne of gold,
And glorious Asfandiyár approached.

The Sháh replied: “'Tis ill to turn from right.
Till now thou hast been better than thy word:
The Maker of the world be thine ally.
I see not at this present anywhere
A public or a private foe. What man
Shall catch thy name and shall not writhe thereat?
Did I say writhe? Nay verily not live!
Thou hast no peer except the worshipful
And famous son of Zál, who hath for life
Zábulistán, Kábulistán, Ghaznín
And Bust, and is exalted o'er the sky
In valour, but accounteth not himself
A subject and transgresseth my commands
And counsels, stooping not to league with me
Although he was a slave to Kai Káús,
And was devoted unto Kai Khusrau,
But sayeth of the kingship of Gushtásp:—
‘He hath a new crown while my crown is old.’
Now thou hast not a rival in the world
Midst Rúmans, Turkmans, or our own free folk,

He brought a dív's child from Hámávarán,
And made her mistress in the royal bower.^174a

By her malpractice Siyáwush was slain,
The day departed from his family.^174b

It is not well to pass the gate of one
That turneth from his fealty to God.
If thou art eager for the crown and throne
Lead forth the host and hie thee to Sístán.
Upon arriving there bind Rustam's hands,
And bring him with the lasso on thine arm.
As for Zawára, Farámarz, and Zál,
See that they set no traps upon thy way.
Bring them afoot and running to my court,
And bring them so that all the troops may see;
Then none hereafter will revolt from us
However he may wish it and repugn.”
The chieftain frowned. “Go not about,” he said,
“To compass such designs, for neither Zál
Nor Rustam is in question here, but thou
Wouldst rid thee of Asfandiyár; thou art
Concerned about the throne of empiry,
And wouldst be quit of me. Let crown and throne
Of chiefs remain thine own, for me the world
Hath nooks enough, yet I am still thy slave,
And bow my head to thy command and will.”
Gushtásp said: “Be not angry. Thou shalt have
This greatness yet and therefore be not downeast.
Choose from the army many cavaliers—
All veterans in war. At thy disposal

He quitted

The presence of his sire with indignation
Both for the crown's sake and his father's words,
And entered his own hall in doleful wise,
His heart all sorrowful, his lips all sighs.

Much moved and weeping sun-cheeked Katáyún
Went to the glorious Asfandiyár,
Her son, and said to him: “O thou that art
The memory of the heroes of the world!
Bahman hath told me that thou wouldest go
From this Rose-garden to Zábulistán,
And wilt put Rustam, son of Zál, in chains,
That master of the mace and scimitar!
Now hear of all things what thy mother saith:—
Rush not to evil and endeavour it not.
That cavalier of elephantine might
Disdaineth battle with the river Nile,
Dis-sundereth the White Dív's liverstead,
And maketh with his sword the sun to stray.
He slew the monarch of Hámávarán
Withal, and none is bold to chide with him.

At dawn, at cock-crow, from the court-gate rose
The din of drums, the elephantine chief
Gat on his steed and led his powers like wind.
He marched until he came where two roads met;
Then prince and army halted in dismay.
One road led toward the hold of Gumbadán,
The other toward Zábul. The leading camel
Lay down, thou hadst said “wedded to the ground.”
The camel-driver smote it on the head,
But for the while the caravan was stayed.
It seemed ill-omened to the atheling,
Who gave commandment to behead the beast
So that the harm might come upon itself,
And he himself not lose the Grace of God.
The warriors cut its head off on the spot,
And turned forthwith the presage on the camel.
Though vexed about the beast, Asfandiyár
Affected to disdain the evil omen,
And said: “When one hath triumphed, and illumed
Earth by his fortune and his eminence,
He ought to smile since good and ill alike
Derive from God.”

He then fared toward the Hírmund,

But fearful of mishap. As they were wont
They pitched the tent-enclosure while the chiefs
Chose their own camping-ground. The prince set up
Throne and pavilion; thither fared the favoured.
Asfandiyár provided wine and minstrels,
And he and Bishútan sat down together,

Asfandiyár then summoned to his presence
Bahman, held talk with him at large, and said:—
“Array thee in brocade of Chín and mount
Thy sable steed, wear too a royal crown,
Bedecked with jewels fit for paladins,
So that whoever seeth may discern thee
Among the notables and, recognising
That thou art one of royal race, invoke
The Maker's blessings on thee. Take five steeds

Or hailed him as thy Sháh. Yet from Húshang,
Jamshíd, and Farídún who won by valour
The kingship from the offspring of Zahhák,
Until we reach the time of Kai Kubád,
Who set the crown of greatness on his head,
There hath not been a monarch like Gushtásp
In fight, in feast, in counsel or the chase.
He hath received the pure and good religion,
Both error and injustice are no more,
For when the Lord's way shone forth gloriously
Bad doctrine and the Dív's way disappeared.
Thereafter when Arjásp came forth to fight,
With troops like pards and chiefs like crocodiles,
And no one knew the number of his host,
Our famous sovereign encountered him,
And made a graveyard of the battlefield,
Till no one could discern the face of earth.
In sooth until the Resurrection Day
The tale will ne'er grow old among the great.
He is the man to break a lion's neck,
And everything is his from east to west,
His from Túrán as far as Sind and Rúm;
The whole world is a bit of wax to him.
Among the spearmen of the desert too
Full many cavaliers come to his court;
They send him toll and tribute from their realms,
Because they have not strength to fight with him.
This have I said to thee, O paladin!
Because his soul is vext on thine account
In that thou hast not come to his famed court,
Nor recognised his nobles, but hast chosen
A nook wherein thou hid'st thyself; yet how,
Unless they ban all feeling, can our chiefs
Cease to remember thee who hast done good
In all things alway and hast raised thy head
To do the bidding of the Sháhs? If any
Should reckon up thy toils they would exceed
Thy treasures; yet no Sháh could acquiesce
In what is told of thee. Gushtásp said: “Rustam,

A mountain lay before the youth who urged
His gallant charger thither, then looked down
Upon the chase. The captain of the host
Appeared in sight—a man like Mount Bístún.
He held a sapling in one hand whereon
An onager was spitted. By his side
Were placed his iron mace and other gear.

“'Tis either Rustam,”

Bahman said, “or the rising sun, for none
In all the world hath looked on such another,
Or heard of such from famous men of old.
I fear me that the brave Asfandiyár
Will not stand up to him, but quit the combat.
So let me kill him with a crag and make
The hearts of Zál and of Rúdába writhe.”
He loosed a flinty boulder from the height,
And sent it downward from the lofty peak.
Zawára from the hunting-ground beheld it,
And heard the rumble that it made withal.
He shouted: “Paladin and cavalier!
A stone is rolling from the mountain-top!”
But Rustam to Zawára's wonderment
Ne'er moved nor laid aside the onager;
He waited till the stone was close to him,
While all the mountain darkened by its dust,
Then with a kick dispatched it far away,
Whereat Zawára praised him joyfully.
Bahman was sick at heart at Rustam's deed
And, marking both his majesty and mien,
Said: “If the glorious Asfandiyár
Should fight against a man of such renown
He would be vanquished vilely. It were better
For him to deal with Rustam courteously,
Who, if he overcame Asfandiyár,
Would seize on all the country of Írán.”
He gat upon his wind-swift steed and quitted
The mountain in a muse, informed the archmages
About the wonder that he had beheld,
And quietly proceeded on his way
When he was hard upon the hunting-ground
The peerless Rustam spied him as he came,

On the board

He laid new bread and hot roast onager;
Slaves helped Bahman and matchless Rustam parled.
He placed his brother by the prince but summoned
No other nobles to the feast. He put
A second onager before himself—
His customary portion at each meal.
He sprinkled salt, cut up the meat, and ate;
Meanwhile the exalted prince could not but gaze.

Then he filled up

A golden bowl with wine and drank “The free.”
He gave another to Bahman, and said:—
“Take this and drink it unto whom thou wilt.”
Bahman was frayed thereat, and so Zawára
First took a draught thereof and said to him:—
“O scion of the Sháh! may wine and drinker
Rejoice in thee.”

Bahman took back the bowl

At once, but that sweet youth was temperate,
And Rustam's appetite, neck, arms, and shoulders
Astounded him. Both mounted, and Bahman
Set forth with noble Rustam and then gave
The message of the prince fair-famed and brave,

When he had heard Bahman the ancient hero
Mused and replied: “Yea I have heard the message
And joy to see thee. Bear Asfandiyár
This answer from me: ‘Lion-hearted chief

Bahman, when he had heard what Rustam said,
Departed with the holy archimages,
But Rustam—peerless chieftain—stayed awhile
Upon the road and, having called Zawára
And Farámarz, said thus: “Depart to Zál
And to the fair Moon of Zábulistán,¹⁹⁰

And say to them: “One who ambitioneth
The world hath come—Asfandiyár. Set up
Within our halls a golden throne, and place
For him apparel such as monarchs wear,
As on the occasion with Sháh Kai Káús,^190a

But let the audience-hall be grander still.
Prepare ye somewhat too by way of food:
There must not be a lack of things to eat,

Wroth with Bahman, disgraced him in full court,
And said to him: “Men of exalted rank
Should not confide in women; furthermore
The employ of children in affairs of moment
As messengers is neither brave nor valiant.
Where ever hast thou looked on warriors,
Who hast heard not a charger's tramp? By making
An elephant of war of Rustam thou
Wilt break the spirit of our famous host.”
In private he spake much to Bishútan,
And said: “This noble Lion of the fight
Will act the youngster and, I will engage,
Hath not a wrinkle yet in spite of age!”

The glorious Asfandiyár bade set
A golden saddle on his sable steed;
Then from his famous troops a hundred horsemen
Set forth with him. His charger neighed on one hand,
And Rakhsh upon the other. Matchless Rustam
Lit from his steed, advanced to greet the hero,
And, greeting over, said: “I prayed to God—
The only God—that He would be thy Guide,
And thou with thy great men and troops withal
Hast reached us safe and sound. Come let us sit,
Use gracious terms, then give a good reply.
My witness, be assured, is God himself,
And wisdom is my guide in what I say,
For I shall gain no glory from this matter,
Nor will I tell a lie in any case,

Asfandiyár

Thereat alighted from his royal steed,
Embraced the hero's elephantine form,
Called many blessings down on him, and said:—
“Thank God, O chief of paladins! that I
Behold thee glad and bright of mind. 'Tis well
That we should praise thee and that this world's heroes
Should be as dust before thee. He is blest
That hath a son like thee, for he beholdeth
A fruitful Branch, and blest is he that hath
A stay like thee, for he will be unscathed
By evil fortune! When I looked on thee
I called to mind that leader of the host,
That cavalier and Lion—Zarír.”

Then Rustam:—

“Thou paladin and world-lord shrewd and ardent!
I have one wish, O prince! a wish which granted
Would make me well content, and 'tis that thou
Shalt visit me in state and make my soul
Bright at the sight of thee. Though there be naught
Worth thine acceptance we will do our best.”
Asfandiyár replied: “Thou memory
Of this world's heroes! he that hath a name
Like thine will prove a joyance to Írán

No harm at all shall come upon thy life.
Dost thou suspect foul play, O paladin?
Beyond all doubt the Sháh will do no wrong,
And he hath told me: ‘I will give to thee
Mine ivory throne, my treasures, and my crown.’
When I shall set that crown upon my head
I will entrust the whole world to thy hands.
Before the all-just God I do no wrong,
Nor shall I shame in presence of the Sháh.
When thou returnest to Zábulistán,
What time the gardens blossom with the rose,
Thou shalt receive such precious gifts from me
As will adorn thy land.”

“O noble man!”

Said Rustam, “I have prayed the almighty Judge
That I might glad my heart by seeing thee,
But how can I give ear to these thy words?
We both are men of rank, one old, one young,
Two paladins both wise and vigilant;
But I am fearful of the evil eye,
And that our heads will wake from pleasant dreams.
The Dív is making way betwixt us two
To warp thy heart by means of crown and throne.
A thing like this would be a shame to me,
One that would last for ever, that a leader,
One high-born and a chieftain such as thou art,
A noble Lion and a mighty man,

Asfandiyár

Replied: “O memory of this world's heroes!
Thy words are truth, not falsehood, and men gain
No lustre from deceit; still Bishútan
Is cognisant of all the Sháh's commands
When I set forth. ‘Bestir thyself,’ he said,
‘As touching Rustam. Be thy whole concern
To fight or bind him.’ If now I shall go,
A blithe, triumphant guest, to visit thee
In thine own home, and from the Sháh's commands
Thou turn thy neck, 'twill mar mine own day's lustre.
For one thing I shall fight thee and employ
The leopard's instinct in that fight, forget
The bond of bread and salt, and cast a slur
Upon the honour of my lineage;
While if I disobey the Sháh the fire
Will be my dwelling in the world to come.
Yet, since thou wishest, let us pass one day
With wine in hand. Who knoweth what may chance
Tomorrow, so we need not talk thereof?”
Said Rustam: “I will do so. I will go
And doff my road-dress. For a week have I
Been hunting and been eating onager

When Rustam left the bank of the Hírmund
The great Asfandiyár sat lost in thought,
And Bishútan, his counsellor, anon
Came to the camp-enclosure. Said the hero:—
“We have dealt lightly with a grave affair:
I have no business in the house of Rustam,
And he for his part should not look on me.
If he come not I will not summon him;
Else, should one of us die, the other's heart
Would burn with anguish for the slain, his head
Shed tears for friendship's sake.”

Said Bishútan:—

“Who hath a brother like Asfandiyár,
Famed chief? By God, when first I saw you two,
And neither of you tried to make a quarrel,
My heart became like early spring thereat,
As much for Rustam as Asfandiyár;
But as I looked more deeply I perceived
The Dív controlling wisdom's path. Thou knowest
What Faith and honour bid, the laws of God,
And thine own sire's intent. Restrain thyself,
Do life no hurt, and hear thy brother's words.

He spake. They decked

The board and, having eaten, rose. Then said
The heroic paladin to Farámarz:—
“Bid saddle Rakhsh as they would do in Chín.
I shall go back and tell Asfandiyár:—
‘Prince though thou art, remember: he that breaketh
His plighted word hath in himself effaced
The pathway that the great and good have traced.’”

Then like an elephant he mounted Rakhsh,
Whose neighings could be heard two miles away,
And hurried to the river, where the troops
Pressed eagerly to see him, while the hearts
Of those that saw him loved him. All exclaimed:—
“This noble chief resembleth none but Sám,
The cavalier. An iron hill is he
Upon the saddle and thou wouldest say
That Rakhsh is Áhriman's own mount, and were
A mighty elephant his opposite
Then splash its head with mourning hues. The king
Must have a witless pate to give up one
That is possessed of Grace divine and prowess—
A moonlike chieftain like Asfandiyár—
To slaughter for the sake of crown and throne.
He groweth greedier with age and fonder
Of signet and of diadem.”

When Rustam

Drew near, Asfandiyár went forth to meet him.
Said Rustam: “Paladin and glorious youth,
But of new-fangled manners! so thy guest

Then thus to Rustam spake Asfandiyár:—
“O lion-hearted chieftain of renown!
Now I have heard a tale from archimages,
The mighty men and sages wise of heart,
That Zál is one of evil race, a dív
By birth, and hath no better origin.
They kept him for a while concealed from Sám,
And thought the child a Doomsday to the world.
His head and hair were white, the rest was dark.
Sám at the sight of him was in despair,
And bade them take the young child to the sea
That birds and fish might have him for their prey.
Then the Símurgh came with spread wings but saw
That 'twas no proper child with Grace divine.
She bore him off to where she had a nest,
She carried him away to serve as food,
And threw him in contempt before her young
That they might finish him at feeding-time.
When they attempted to devour the child
They were afraid and would not batten on him,
But passed him over as he was so vile,
And turned away; though ravenous the Símurgh
Could not quite stomach such a thing as Zál,
But made him free of the nest though nobody
Was pleased to see him. He ate carrion
That she rejected, and his wretched body

Then Rustam answered, saying: “Hold thy peace!
Why speak'st thou such provocatory words?
Thy heart is growing into frowardness,
The utterance of thy soul is that of dívs.
Speak what befitteth the great kings; the Sháh
In speaking swerveth not from what is right.
The world-lord knoweth that the son of Sám
Is great and hath both knowledge and fair fame.
Again, Sám was the son of Narímán,
Which hero was the son of Karímán,
And thus they run back to Garshásp, while all
Are scions of Jamshíd. Thine ancestors
Obtained the crown through us, else none had named
them.

And but for that he had remained a subject,^202a

Not having treasure, host, or puissance.
In sooth thou must have heard reports of Sám,
Who had the fairest fame of all his time:
First, how there was a dragon once at Tús,
A dragon from whose clutches none could 'scape;
A crocodile in water and a leopard
On land, its breath would soften mountain-flints,
Would broil the fishes' heads in water-ways,
Would scorch the vultures' feathers in mid-air,
And suck in elephants with its breath. Glad hearts
Were saddened at the thought thereof. And next,
There was a fearful and malicious dív,
Whose body was on earth and head in heaven,
Because the sea of Chín reached but his middle;
The sun itself shone with diminished lustre.
He used to take up monsters from the deep
And, towering o'er the orbit of the moon,
Broil them upon the sun while turning heaven
Was all dissolved in tears. These two great Pests²⁰³

Were rendered lifeless and consumed before
The sword of Sám, the hero. Then again,
My mother was the daughter of Mihráb,
Who made the realm of Sind so prosperous,
And was the fifth descendant from Zahhák,
Who raised his head above all other kings.
Who hath a nobler origin than this?
A wise man will not turn from truth: the honour

When Kai Káús went to Mázandarán^203b

My father Zál had much to say thereon.
Thou knowest how that Sháh fared with the dívs,
And in his blindness cried out from his soul.
Alone I journeyed to Mázandarán;
The nights were gloomy and the leagues were long.
I did not spare the White Dív or Arzhang,
Púlád,²⁰⁴

son of Ghundí, or Bíd or Sanja.
Moreover for our monarch's sake I slew
My wise and valiant boy.^204a

There hath not been
Another warrior like Suhráb in strength,
In courage, and approof in war. In sooth
Above six hundred years have passed away
Since I was severed from the reins of Zál;
I have been always paladin in chief,
In public or in private 'twas all one.
Just as it was with noble Farídún,
Who set the crown of greatness on his head,
Dethroned Zahhák and brought him, head and crown,
To dust; and secondly, as Sám, my grandsire,
Engrossed the craft and knowledge of the world;
So, thirdly, since I girded up my loins
The person of the monarch hath had rest.
There never were such days of happiness,
The wanderers' feet were never so secure,
As when my will prevailed throughout the world,
And I used scimitar and massive mace.
I speak in order that thou mayst know all,
For thou art prince and nobles are thy flock;

Asfandiyár, on hearing Rustam's words,
Smiled and his heart began to beat with joy.
He answered: “I have listened to thy toils,
Thy pains, thy combats, and anxieties.
Now hearken to the gests that I have done,
Whereby I raised my head above the noble.
'Twas for the Faith that first I girt my loins,
And cleared the earth of idol-worshippers:
Our warriors could not see the world for slain.
Gushtásp was mine immediate ancestor,
Who was himself begotten by Luhrásp;
Luhrásp again was son of king Aurand,
Who at that time possessed both fame and rank.
Aurand was of the seed of Kai Pashín,
Blessed by his father who was Kai Kubád—
A Sháh of wisdom and of upright heart;
Pursue my race thus to Sháh Farídún,
The root of kings and glory of the throne.
My mother is, moreover, Cæsar's daughter,
Who is the crown upon the Rúmans' head
And sprung from Salm—a glorious lineage,
Instinct with justice, precedent, and Grace.
Salm was the son of valiant Farídún,
Who carried off the ball from all the kings

Victorious through the just, the only God,
I came again in such case to Írán
That we had no foe left in all the world,
And not a Brahman in his idol-house.
In all my battles I have fought unaided;
No one hath shared with me the cares of war.
Now, seeing that we have so long converst,
Tilt up the wine-cup if thou art athirst.”

Then Rustam spake thus to Asfandiyár:—
“My deeds remain as my memorial;
So now in simple justice hear the words
Of one whose name is known—an ancient man:
If I had gone not to Mázandarán,²⁰⁷

And borne my massive mace upon my shoulder,
Where would have been blind Gív, Gúdarz, and Tús,
And our exalted Sháh—that sport of grief?

Where they made fast his feet in heavy fetters,
I took an army of Íránians,
Drawn from wherever there were prince and chief,
Slew in the fight that folk's king, and made void
Their famous throne. The monarch of the world—
Káús himself—was captive and his heart
Was stricken by anxiety and travail.
Meanwhile Afrásiyáb was in Írán
Together with his host and famous chiefs.
Then it was I who rescued Kai Káús
As well as Tús, Gív, and Gúdarz, and brought them
Back to Írán out of Hámávarán,
Brought all the paladins and men of name.
One dark night as I went before the troops
In search of fame, not rest, Afrásiyáb
Discerned my fluttering flag and heard Rakhsh neigh:
Abandoning Írán he made for Chín,
And justice and thanksgiving filled the world.
Had blood come from the neck of Kai Káús
How could he have begotten Siyáwush?
Had saintly mother not borne Kai Khusrau,
Who would have named Luhrásp for Sháh? Why vaunt