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ANTHOLOGY OF PERSIAN LITERATURE

THE SHAH NAMEH

Introduction
Kaiumers
Husheng
Tahumers
Jemshid
Mirtas-Tazi, and His Son Zohak
Kavah, the Blacksmith
Feridun
Feridun and His Three Sons
Minuchihr
Zal, the Son of Sam
The Dream of Sam
Rudabeh
Death of Minuchihr
Nauder
Afrasiyab Marches against Nauder
Afrasiyab
Zau
Garshasp
Kai-Kobad
Kai-Kaus
The Seven Labors of Rustem
Invasion of Iran by Afrasiyab
The Return of Kai-Kaus
Story of Sohrab
The Story of Saiawush
Kai-Khosrau
Akwan Diw
The Story of Byzun and Manijeh
Barzu, and His Conflict with Rustem
Susen and Afrasiyab
The Expedition of Gudarz
The Death of Afrasiyab
The Death of Kai-Khosrau
Lohurasp
Gushtasp, and the Faith of Zerdusht
The Heft-Khan of Isfendiyar
Capture of the Brazen Fortress
The Death of Isfendiyar
The Death of Rustem
Bahman
Humai and the Birth of Darab
Darab and Dara
Sikander
Firdusi's Invocation
Firdusi's Satire on Mahmud

THE RUBAIYAT

Introduction
Omar Khayyam
The Rubaiyat

THE DIVAN

Introduction
Fragment by Hafiz
The Divan

THE SHAH NAMEH

by

FIRDUSI

(_Abul Kasim Mansur_)

[_Translated into English by James Atkinson_]

The system of Sir William Jones in the printing of Oriental words has
been kept in view in the following work, viz.: The letter _a_ represents
the short vowel as in _bat, a_ with an accent the broad sound of _a_ in
_hall, i_ as in _lily, i_ with an accent as in _police, u_ as in _bull,
u_ with an accent as in _rude, o_ with an accent as _o_ in _pole_, the
diphthong _ai_ as in _aisle, au_ as in the German word _kraut_ or _ou_
in _house_.

INTRODUCTION

When Sir John Lubbock, in the list of a hundred books which he
published, in the year 1886, as containing the best hundred worth
reading, mentioned the "Shah Nameh" or "Book of Kings," written by the
Persian poet Firdusi, it is doubtful whether many of his readers had
even heard of such a poem or of its author. Yet Firdusi, "The Poet of
Paradise" (for such is the meaning of this pen-name), is as much the
national poet of Persia as Dante is of Italy or Shakespeare of England.
Abul Kasim Mansur is indeed a genuine epic poet, and for this reason his
work is of genuine interest to the lovers of Homer, Vergil, and Dante.
The qualities that go to make up an epic poem are all to be found in
this work of the Persian bard. In the first place, the "Shah Nameh" is
written by an enthusiastic patriot, who glorifies his country, and by
that means has become recognized as the national poet of Persia. In the
second place, the poem presents us with a complete view of a certain
definite phase, and complete era of civilization; in other words, it is
a transcript from the life; a portrait-gallery of distinct and unique
individuals; a description of what was once an actual society. We find
in it delineated the Persia of the heroic age, an age of chivalry,
eclipsing, in romantic emotion, deeds of daring, scenes of love and
violence, even the mediaeval chivalry of France and Spain. Again, this
poem deals principally with the adventures of one man. For all other
parts of the work are but accessories to the single figure of Rustem,
the heroic personage whose superhuman strength, dignity, and beauty make
him to be a veritable Persian Achilles. But when we regard the details
of this work we see how deeply the literary posterity of Homer are
indebted to the Father of European Poetry. The fantastic crowd of
demons, peris, and necromancers that appear as the supernatural
machinery of the Shah Nameh, such grotesque fancies as the serpents that
grew from the shoulders of King Zohak, or the ladder of Zerdusht, on
which he mounted from earth to heaven--all these and a hundred other
fancies compare unfavorably with the reserve of Homer, in his use of
such a personage as Circe, and the human grace and dignity which he
lends to that genial circle on Olympus, whose inextinguishable laughter
is called forth by the halting wine-bearer a god like themselves. While
we read the "Shah Nameh" with keen interest, because from its study the
mind is enlarged and stimulated by new scenes, new ideas and
unprecedented situations, we feel grateful that the battle of Salamis
stopped the Persian invasion of Europe, which would doubtless have
resulted in changing the current of literature from that orderly and
stately course which it had taken from its fountain in a Greek
Parnassus, and diverted it into the thousand brawling rills of Persian
fancy and exaggeration.

It is a hundred years ago that a certain physician in the employment of
the East India Company, who then represented British supremacy in Bengal
and Calcutta, published the "Story of Sohrab," a poem in heroic
couplets, being a translation of the most pathetic episode in the "Shah
Nameh." If we compare this English poem with Jules Mohl's literal
translation of the Persian epic into French, we find that James Atkinson
stands very much in the same relation to Firdusi as Pope does to Homer.
It would be indeed absurd for an English writer to attempt to conform,
in an English version, to the vagaries of Persian idiom, or even to
attempt a literal rendering of the Persian trope. The manner of a poet
can never be faithfully reproduced in a translation, but all that is
really valuable, really affecting, in an epic poem will survive
transfusion into the frank and natural idiom of another tongue. We say
epic poem, because one of the distinguishing features in this form of
literary expression is that its action hinges on those fundamental
passions of humanity, that "touch which makes the whole world kin,"
whose alphabet is the same in every latitude. The publication of
"Sohrab" was nevertheless the revelation of a new world to London
coteries, and the influence of Mr. Atkinson's work can be traced as well
in the Persian pastorals of Collins as in the oriental poems of Southey
and Moore. This metrical version of "Sohrab" is the only complete
episode of the Shah Nameh contained in the present collection. When we
consider that the Persian original consists of some one hundred and
twenty thousand lines, it will easily be understood that a literal
rendering of the whole would make a volume whose bulk would put it far
out of reach to the general reader. Atkinson has very wisely furnished
us with a masterly _resume_ of the chief episodes, each of which he
outlines in prose, occasionally flashing out into passages of sparkling
verse, which run through the narrative like golden threads woven into
the tissue of some storied tapestry. The literary style of the
translator is admirable. Sometimes, as when he describes the tent of
Manijeh, he becomes as simple and direct as Homer in depicting the
palace of Alcinous. The language of his Sohrab recalls the pathos of
Vergil's Nisus and Euryalus, and the paternal love and despair of
Dante's Ugolino. But in Rustem the tears of anguish and sorrow seem to
vanish like morning dew, in the excitement of fresh adventure, and human
feeling, as depicted by Firdusi, lacks not only the refined gradations,
but also the intensity, which we see in the Florentine poet. Atkinson's
versification is rather that of Queen Anne's time than what we of the
Victorian age profess to admire in Browning and Tennyson. But it is one
of the chief praises of Tennyson that he has treated Sir Thomas Malory
very much in the same way as Mr. Atkinson has treated Abul Kasim Mansur,
by bringing the essential features of an extinct society within the
range of modern vision, and into touch with modern sympathies. All that
is of value in Firdusi, to the reader of to-day, will be found in this
version of Atkinson, while the philologist or the antiquarian can
satisfy their curiosity either in the original, or in the French
versions whose fidelity is above suspicion. For it is bare justice to
say that James Atkinson's Firdusi is one of those translations, even
though it be at the same time an abridgment, which have taken their
place in the rank of British classics. It is the highest praise that can
be given to a work of this character to say that it may be placed on the
bookshelf side by side with Jeremy Collier's "Marcus Aurelius," Leland's
"Demosthenes," and the "Montaigne" of Charles Cotton. It embalms the
genuine spirit and life of an Oriental poem in the simple yet tasteful
form of English narrative. The blending of verse and prose is a happy
expedient. If we may use the metaphor of Horace, we should say, that Mr.
Atkinson alternately trudges along on foot, and rises on the wings of
verse into the upper air. The reader follows with pleasure both his
march and his flight, and reaches the end of the volume with the
distinct impression that he has been reading a Persian poem, and all the
while forgotten that it was written in the English language.

E.W.

THE SHAH NAMEH

KAIUMERS

According to the traditions of former ages, recorded in the
Bastan-nameh, the first person who established a code of laws and
exercised the functions of a monarch in Persia, was Kaiumers. It is said
that he dwelt among the mountains, and that his garments were made of
the skins of beasts.

His reign was thirty years, and o'er the earth
He spread the blessings of paternal sway;
Wild animals, obsequious to his will,
Assembled round his throne, and did him homage.
He had a son named Saiamuk, a youth
Of lovely form and countenance, in war
Brave and accomplished, and the dear delight
Of his fond father, who adored the boy,
And only dreaded to be parted from him.
So is it ever with the world--the parent
Still doating on his offspring. Kaiumers
Had not a foe, save one, a hideous Demon,
Who viewed his power with envy, and aspired
To work his ruin. He, too, had a son,
Fierce as a wolf, whose days were dark and bitter,
Because the favoring heavens in kinder mood
Smiled on the monarch and his gallant heir.
--When Saiamuk first heard the Demon's aim
Was to o'erthrow his father and himself,
Surprise and indignation filled his heart,
And speedily a martial force he raised,
To punish the invader. Proudly garbed
In leopard's skin, he hastened to the war;
But when the combatants, with eager mien,
Impatient met upon the battle-field.
And both together tried their utmost strength,
Down from his enemy's dragon-grasp soon fell
The luckless son of royal Kaiumers,
Vanquished and lifeless. Sad, unhappy fate!

Disheartened by this disastrous event, the army immediately retreated,
and returned to Kaiumers, who wept bitterly for the loss of his son, and
continued a long time inconsolable. But after a year had elapsed a
mysterious voice addressed him, saying:--"Be patient, and despair
not--thou hast only to send another army against the Demons, and the
triumph and the victory will be thine.

"Drive from the earth that Demon horrible,
And sorrow will be rooted from thy heart."

Saiamuk left a son whose name was Husheng, whom the king loved much more
even than his father.

Husheng his name. There seemed in him combined,
Knowledge and goodness eminent. To him
Was given his father's dignity and station.
And the old man, his grandsire, scarcely deigned
To look upon another, his affection
For him was so unbounded.

Kaiumers having appointed Husheng the leader of the army, the young hero
set out with an immense body of troops to engage the Demon and his son.
It is said that at that time every species of animal, wild and tame, was
obedient to his command.

The savage beasts, and those of gentler kind,
Alike reposed before him, and appeared
To do him homage.

The wolf, the tiger, the lion, the panther, and even the fowls of the
air, assembled in aid of him, and he, by the blessing of God, slew the
Demon and his offspring with his own hand. After which the army of
Kaiumers, and the devouring animals that accompanied him in his march,
defeated and tore to pieces the scattered legions of the enemy. Upon the
death of Kaiumers Husheng ascended the throne of Persia.

HUSHENG

It is recorded that Husheng was the first who brought out fire from
stone, and from that circumstance he founded the religion of the
Fire-worshippers, calling the flame which was produced, the Light of the
Divinity. The accidental discovery of this element is thus described:--

Passing, one day, towards the mountain's side,
Attended by his train, surprised he saw
Something in aspect terrible--its eyes
Fountains of blood; its dreadful mouth sent forth
Volumes of smoke that darkened all the air.
Fixing his gaze upon that hideous form,
He seized a stone, and with prodigious force
Hurling it, chanced to strike a jutting rock,
Whence sparks arose, and presently a fire
O'erspread the plain, in which the monster perished.
--Thus Husheng found the element which shed
Light through the world. The monarch prostrate bowed,
Praising the great Creator, for the good
Bestowed on man, and, pious, then he said,
"This is the Light from Heaven, sent down from God;
If ye be wise, adore and worship it!"

It is also related that, in the evening of the day on which the luminous
flash appeared to him from the stone, he lighted an immense fire, and,
having made a royal entertainment, he called it the Festival of Siddeh.
By him the art of the blacksmith was discovered, and he taught river and
streamlet to supply the towns, and irrigate the fields for the purposes
of cultivation. And he also brought into use the fur of the sable, and
the squirrel, and the ermine. Before his time mankind had nothing for
food but fruit, and the leaves of trees and the skins of animals for
clothing. He introduced, and taught his people, the method of making
bread, and the art of cookery.

Then ate they their own bread, for it was good,
And they were grateful to their benefactor;
Mild laws were framed--the very land rejoiced,
Smiling with cultivation; all the world
Remembering Husheng's virtues.

The period of his government is said to have lasted forty years, and he
was succeeded by his son, Tahumers.

TAHUMERS

This sovereign was also called Diw-bund, or the Binder of Demons. He
assembled together all the wise men in his dominions, to consider and
deliberate upon whatever might be of utility and advantage to the people
of God. In his days wool was spun and woven, and garments and carpets
manufactured, and various animals, such as panthers, falcons, hawks, and
syagoshes, were tamed, and taught to assist in the sports of the field.
Tahumers had also a vizir, renowned for his wisdom and understanding.
Having one day charmed a Demon into his power by philters and magic, he
conveyed him to Tahumers; upon which, the brethren and allies of the
prisoner, feeling ashamed and degraded by the insult, collected an army,
and went to war against the king. Tahumers was equally in wrath when he
heard of these hostile proceedings, and having also gathered together an
army on his part, presented himself before the enemy. The name of the
leader of the Demons was Ghu. On one side the force consisted of fire,
and smoke, and Demons; on the other, brave and magnanimous warriors.
Tahumers lifted his mace, as soon as he was opposed to the enemy, and
giving Ghu a blow on the head, killed him on the spot. The other Demons
being taken prisoners, he ordered them to be destroyed; but they
petitioned for mercy, promising, if their lives were spared, that they
would teach him a wonderful art. Tahumers assented, and they immediately
brought their books, and pens and ink, and instructed him how to read
and write.

They taught him letters, and his eager mind
With learning was illumined. The world was blest
With quiet and repose, Peris and Demons
Submitting to his will.

The reign of Tahumers lasted thirty years, and after him the monarchy
descended to Jemshid, his son.

JEMSHID

Jemshid was eminently distinguished for learning and wisdom. It is said
that coats of mail, cuirasses, and swords and various kinds of armor
were invented and manufactured in his time, and also that garments of
silk were made and worn by his people.

Helmets and swords, with curious art they made,
Guided by Jemshid's skill; and silks and linen
And robes of fur and ermine. Desert lands
Were cultivated; and wherever stream
Or rivulet wandered, and the soil was good,
He fixed the habitations of his people;
And there they ploughed and reaped: for in that age
All labored; none in sloth and idleness
Were suffered to remain, since indolence
Too often vanquishes the best, and turns
To nought the noblest, firmest resolution.

Jemshid afterwards commanded his Demons to construct a splendid palace,
and he directed his people how to make the foundations strong.

He taught the unholy Demon-train to mingle
Water and clay, with which, formed into bricks,
The walls were built, and then high turrets, towers,
And balconies, and roofs to keep out rain
And cold, and sunshine. Every art was known
To Jemshid, without equal in the world.

He also made vessels for the sea and the river, and erected a
magnificent throne, embellished with pearls and precious stones; and
having seated himself upon it, commanded his Demons to raise him up in
the air, that he might be able to transport himself in a moment wherever
he chose. He named the first day of the year _Nu-ruz_ and on every
_Nu-ruz_ he made a royal feast, so that under his hospitable roof,
mortals, and Genii, and Demons, and Peris, were delighted and happy,
every one being equally regaled with wine and music. His government is
said to have continued in existence seven hundred years, and during that
period, it is added, none of his subjects suffered death, or was
afflicted with disease.

Man seemed immortal, sickness was unknown,
And life rolled on in happiness and joy.

After the lapse of seven hundred years, however, inordinate ambition
inflamed the heart of Jemshid, and, having assembled all the illustrious
personages and learned men in his dominions before him, he said to
them:--"Tell me if there exists, or ever existed, in all the world, a
king of such magnificence and power as I am?" They unanimously
replied:--"Thou art alone, the mightiest, the most victorious: there is
no equal to thee!" The just God beheld this foolish pride and vanity
with displeasure, and, as a punishment, cast him from the government of
an empire into a state of utter degradation and misery.

All looked upon the throne, and heard and saw
Nothing but Jemshid, he alone was king,
Absorbing every thought; and in their praise,
And adoration of that mortal man,
Forgot the worship of the great Creator.
Then proudly thus he to his nobles spoke,
Intoxicated with their loud applause,
"I am unequalled, for to me the earth
Owes all its science, never did exist
A sovereignty like mine, beneficent
And glorious, driving from the populous land
Disease and want. Domestic joy and rest
Proceed from me, all that is good and great
Waits my behest; the universal voice
Declares the splendor of my government,
Beyond whatever human heart conceived,
And me the only monarch of the world."
--Soon as these words had parted from his lips,
Words impious, and insulting to high heaven,
His earthly grandeur faded--then all tongues
Grew clamorous and bold. The day of Jemshid
Passed into gloom, his brightness all obscured.
What said the Moralist? "When thou wert a king
Thy subjects were obedient, but whoever
Proudly neglects the worship of his God,
Brings desolation on his house and home."
--And when he marked the insolence of his people,
He knew the wrath of Heaven had been provoked,
And terror overcame him.

MIRTAS-TAZI, AND HIS SON ZOHAK

The old historians relate that Mirtas was the name of a king of the
Arabs; and that he had a thousand animals which gave milk, and the milk
of these animals he always distributed in charity among the poor. God
was pleased with his goodness, and accordingly increased his favor upon
him.

Goats, sheep, and camels, yielded up their store
Of balmy milk, with which the generous king
Nourished the indigent and helpless poor.

Mirtas had a son called Zohak, who possessed ten thousand Arab horses,
or Tazis, upon which account he was surnamed Biwurasp; biwur meaning ten
thousand, and asp a horse. One day Iblis, the Evil Spirit, appeared to
Zohak in the disguise of a good and virtuous man, and conversed with him
in the most agreeable manner.

Pleased with his eloquence, the youth
Suspected not the speaker's truth;
But praised the sweet impassioned strain,
And asked him to discourse again.

Iblis replied, that he was master of still sweeter converse,
but he could not address it to him, unless he first entered into
a solemn compact, and engaged never on any pretence to divulge
his secret.

Zohak in perfect innocence of heart
Assented to the oath, and bound himself
Never to tell the secret; all he wished
Was still to hear the good man's honey words.

But as soon as the oath was taken, Iblis said to him: "Thy father has
become old and worthless, and thou art young, and wise, and valiant. Let
him no longer stand in thy way, but kill him; the robes of sovereignty
are ready, and better adapted for thee."

The youth in agony of mind,
Heard what the stranger now designed;
Could crime like this be understood!
The shedding of a parent's blood!
Iblis would no excuses hear--
The oath was sworn--his death was near.
"For if thou think'st to pass it by,
The peril's thine, and thou must die!"

Zohak was terrified and subdued by this warning, and asked Iblis in what
manner he proposed to sacrifice his father. Iblis replied, that he would
dig a pit on the path-way which led to Mirtas-Tazi's house of prayer.
Accordingly he secretly made a deep well upon the spot most convenient
for the purpose, and covered it over with grass. At night, as the king
was going, as usual, to the house of prayer, he fell into the pit, and
his legs and arms being broken by the fall, he shortly expired. O
righteous Heaven! that father too, whose tenderness would not suffer
even the winds to blow upon his son too roughly--and that son, by the
temptation of Iblis, to bring such a father to a miserable end!

Thus urged to crime, through cruel treachery,
Zohak usurped his pious father's throne.

When Iblis found that he had got Zohak completely in his power, he told
him that, if he followed his counsel and advice implicitly, he would
become the greatest monarch of the age, the sovereign of the seven
climes, signifying the whole world. Zohak agreed to every thing, and
Iblis continued to bestow upon him the most devoted attention and
flattery for the purpose of moulding him entirely to his will. To such
an extreme degree had his authority attained, that he became the sole
director even in the royal kitchen, and prepared for Zohak the most
delicious and savory food imaginable; for in those days bread and fruit
only were the usual articles of food. Iblis himself was the original
inventor of the cooking art. Zohak was delighted with the dishes, made
from every variety of bird and four-footed animal. Every day something
new and rare was brought to his table, and every day Iblis increased in
favor. But an egg was to him the most delicate of all! "What can there
be superior to this?" said he. "To-morrow," replied Iblis, "thou shalt
have something better, and of a far superior kind."

Next day he brought delicious fare, and dressed
In manner exquisite to please the eye,
As well as taste; partridge and pheasant rich,
A banquet for a prince. Zohak beheld
Delighted the repast, and eagerly
Relished its flavor; then in gratitude,
And admiration of the matchless art
Which thus had ministered to his appetite,
He cried:--"For this, whatever thou desirest,
And I can give, is thine." Iblis was glad,
And, little anxious, had but one request--
One unimportant wish--it was to kiss
The monarch's naked shoulder--a mere whim.
And promptly did Zohak comply, for he
Was unsuspicious still, and stripped himself,
Ready to gratify that simple wish.

Iblis then kissed the part with fiendish glee,
And vanished in an instant.

From the touch
Sprang two black serpents! Then a tumult rose
Among the people, searching for Iblis
Through all the palace, but they sought in vain.

To young and old it was a marvellous thing;
The serpents writhed about as seeking food,
And learned men to see the wonder came,
And sage magicians tried to charm away
That dreadful evil, but no cure was found.

Some time afterwards Iblis returned to Zohak, but in the shape of a
physician, and told him that it was according to his own horoscope that
he suffered in this manner--it was, in short, his destiny--and that the
serpents would continue connected with him throughout his life,
involving him in perpetual misery. Zohak sunk into despair, upon the
assurance of there being no remedy for him, but Iblis again roused him
by saying, that if the serpents were fed daily with human brains, which
would probably kill them, his life might be prolonged, and made easy.

If life has any charm for thee,
The brain of man their food must be!

With the adoption of this deceitful stratagem, Iblis was highly pleased,
and congratulated himself upon the success of his wicked exertions,
thinking that in this manner a great portion of the human race would be
destroyed. He was not aware that his craft and cunning had no influence
in the house of God; and that the descendants of Adam are continually
increasing.

When the people of Iran and Turan heard that Zohak kept near him two
devouring serpents, alarm and terror spread everywhere, and so universal
was the dread produced by this intelligence, that the nobles of Persia
were induced to abandon their allegiance to Jemshid, and, turning
through fear to Zohak, confederated with the Arab troops against their
own country. Jemshid continued for some time to resist their efforts,
but was at last defeated, and became a wanderer on the face of the
earth.

To him existence was a burden now,
The world a desert--for Zohak had gained
The imperial crown, and from all acts and deeds
Of royal import, razed out the very name
Of Jemshid hateful in the tyrant's eyes.

The Persian government having fallen into the hands of the usurper, he
sent his spies in every direction for the purpose of getting possession
of Jemshid wherever he might be found, but their labor was not crowned
with success. The unfortunate wanderer, after experiencing numberless
misfortunes, at length took refuge in Zabulistan.

Flying from place to place, through wilderness,
Wide plain, and mountain, veiled from human eye,
Hungry and worn out with fatigue and sorrow,
He came to Zabul.

The king of Zabulistan, whose name was Gureng, had a daughter of extreme
beauty. She was also remarkable for her mental endowments, and was
familiar with warlike exercises.

So graceful in her movements, and so sweet,
Her very look plucked from the breast of age
The root of sorrow--her wine-sipping lips,
And mouth like sugar, cheeks all dimpled o'er
With smiles, and glowing as the summer rose--
Won every heart.

This damsel, possessed of these beauties and charms, was accustomed to
dress herself in the warlike habiliments of a man, and to combat with
heroes. She was then only fifteen years of age, but so accomplished in
valor, judgment, and discretion, that Minuchihr, who had in that year
commenced hostile operations against her father, was compelled to
relinquish his pretensions, and submit to the gallantry which she
displayed on that occasion. Her father's realm was saved by her
magnanimity. Many kings were her suitors, but Gureng would not give his
consent to her marriage with any of them. He only agreed that she should
marry the sovereign whom she might spontaneously love.

It must be love, and love alone,[1]
That binds thee to another's throne;
In this my father has no voice,
Thine the election, thine the choice.

The daughter of Gureng had a Kabul woman for her nurse, who was deeply
skilled in all sorts of magic and sorcery.

The old enchantress well could say,
What would befall on distant day;
And by her art omnipotent,
Could from the watery element
Draw fire, and with her magic breath,
Seal up a dragon's eyes in death.
Could from the flint-stone conjure dew;
The moon and seven stars she knew;
And of all things invisible
To human sight, this crone could tell.

This Kabul sorceress had long before intimated to the damsel that,
conformably with her destiny, which had been distinctly ascertained from
the motions of the heavenly bodies, she would, after a certain time, be
married to King Jemshid, and bear him a beautiful son. The damsel was
overjoyed at these tidings, and her father received them with equal
pleasure, refusing in consequence the solicitations of every other
suitor. Now according to the prophecy, Jemshid arrived at the city of
Zabul in the spring season, when the roses were in bloom; and it so
happened that the garden of King Gureng was in the way, and also that
his daughter was amusing herself at the time in the garden. Jemshid
proceeded in that direction, but the keepers of the garden would not
allow him to pass, and therefore, fatigued and dispirited, he sat down
by the garden-door under the shade of a tree. Whilst he was sitting
there a slave-girl chanced to come out of the garden, and, observing
him, was surprised at his melancholy and forlorn condition. She said to
him involuntarily: "Who art thou?" and Jemshid raising up his eyes,
replied:--"I was once possessed of wealth and lived in great affluence,
but I am now abandoned by fortune, and have come from a distant country.
Would to heaven I could be blessed with a few cups of wine, my fatigue
and affliction might then be relieved." The girl smiled, and returned
hastily to the princess, and told her that a young man, wearied with
travelling, was sitting at the garden gate, whose countenance was more
lovely even than that of her mistress, and who requested to have a few
cups of wine. When the damsel heard such high praise of the stranger's
features she was exceedingly pleased, and said: "He asks only for wine,
but I will give him both wine and music, and a beautiful mistress
beside."

This saying, she repaired towards the gate,
In motion graceful as the waving cypress,
Attended by her hand-maid; seeing him,
She thought he was a warrior of Iran
With spreading shoulders, and his loins well bound.
His visage pale as the pomegranate flower,
He looked like light in darkness. Warm emotions
Rose in her heart, and softly thus she spoke:
"Grief-broken stranger, rest thee underneath
These shady bowers; if wine can make thee glad,
Enter this pleasant place, and drink thy fill."

Whilst the damsel was still speaking and inviting Jemshid into the
garden, he looked at her thoughtfully, and hesitated; and she said to
him: "Why do you hesitate? I am permitted by my father to do what I
please, and my heart is my own.

"Stranger, my father is the monarch mild
Of Zabulistan, and I his only child;
On me is all his fond affection shown;
My wish is his, on me he dotes alone."

Jemshid had before heard of the character and renown of this
extraordinary damsel, yet he was not disposed to comply with her
entreaty; but contemplating again her lovely face, his heart became
enamoured, when she took him by the hand and led him along the beautiful
walks.

With dignity and elegance she passed--
As moves the mountain partridge through the meads;
Her tresses richly falling to her feet,
And filling with perfume the softened breeze.

In their promenade they arrived at the basin of a fountain, near which
they seated themselves upon royal carpets, and the damsel having placed
Jemshid in such a manner that they might face each other, she called for
music and wine.

But first the rose-cheeked handmaids gathered round,
And washed obsequiously the stranger's feet;
Then on the margin of the silvery lake
Attentive sate.

The youth, after this, readily took the wine and refreshments which were
ordered by the princess.

Three cups he drank with eager zest,
Three cups of ruby wine;
Which banished sorrow from his breast,
For memory left no sign
Of past affliction; not a trace
Remained upon his heart, or smiling face.

Whilst he was drinking, the princess observed his peculiar action and
elegance of manner, and instantly said in her heart: "This must be a
king!" She then offered him some more food, as he had come a long
journey, and from a distant land, but he only asked for more wine. "Is
your fondness for wine so great?" said she. And he replied: "With wine I
have no enemy; yet, without it I can be resigned and contented.

"Whilst drinking wine I never see
The frowning face of my enemy;
Drink freely of the grape, and nought
Can give the soul one mournful thought;
Wine is a bride of witching power,
And wisdom is her marriage dower;
Wine can the purest joy impart,
Wine inspires the saddest heart;
Wine gives cowards valour's rage,
Wine gives youth to tottering age;
Wine gives vigour to the weak,
And crimson to the pallid cheek;
And dries up sorrow, as the sun
Absorbs the dew it shines upon."

From the voice and eloquence of the speaker she now conjectured that
this certainly must be King Jemshid, and she felt satisfied that her
notions would soon be realized. At this moment she recollected that
there was a picture of Jemshid in her father's gallery, and thought of
sending for it to compare the features; but again she considered that
the person before her was certainly and truly Jemshid, and that the
picture would be unnecessary on the occasion.

It is said that two ring-doves, a male and female, happened to alight on
the garden wall near the fountain where they were sitting, and began
billing and cooing in amorous play, so that seeing them together in such
soft intercourse, blushes overspread the cheeks of the princess, who
immediately called for her bow and arrows. When they were brought she
said to Jemshid, "Point out which of them I shall hit, and I will bring
it to the ground." Jemshid replied: "Where a man is, a woman's aid is
not required--give me the bow, and mark my skill;

"However brave a woman may appear,
Whatever strength of arm she may possess,
She is but half a man!"

Upon this observation being made, the damsel turned her head aside
ashamed, and gave him the bow. Her heart was full of love. Jemshid took
the bow, and selecting a feathered arrow out of her hand, said:--"Now
for a wager. If I hit the female, shall the lady whom I most admire in
this company be mine?" The damsel assented. Jemshid drew the string, and
the arrow struck the female dove so skilfully as to transfix both the
wings, and pin them together. The male ring-dove flew away, but moved by
natural affection it soon returned, and settled on the same spot as
before. The bow was said to be so strong that there was not a warrior in
the whole kingdom who could even draw the string; and when the damsel
witnessed the dexterity of the stranger, and the ease with which he used
the weapon, she thought within her heart, "There can be no necessity for
the picture; I am certain that this can be no other than the King
Jemshid, the son of Tahumers, called the Binder of Demons." Then she
took the bow from the hand of Jemshid, and observed: "The male bird has
returned to its former place, if my aim be successful shall the man whom
I choose in this company be my husband?" Jemshid instantly understood
her meaning. At that moment the Kabul nurse appeared, and the young
princess communicated to her all that had occurred. The nurse leisurely
examined Jemshid from head to foot with a slave-purchaser's eye, and
knew him, and said to her mistress--"All that I saw in thy horoscope and
foretold, is now in the course of fulfilment. God has brought Jemshid
hither to be thy spouse. Be not regardless of thy good fortune, and the
Almighty will bless thee with a son, who will be the conqueror of the
world. The signs and tokens of thy destiny I have already explained."
The damsel had become greatly enamoured of the person of the stranger
before she knew who he was, and now being told by her nurse that he was
Jemshid himself, her affection was augmented twofold.

The happy tidings, blissful to her heart,
Increased the ardour of her love for him.

And now the picture was brought to the princess, who, finding the
resemblance exact, put it into Jemshid's hand. Jemshid, in secretly
recognizing his own likeness, was forcibly reminded of his past glory
and happiness, and he burst into tears.

The memory of the diadem and throne
No longer his, came o'er him, and his soul
Was rent with anguish.

The princess said to him: "Why at the commencement of our friendship
dost thou weep? Art thou discontented--dissatisfied, unhappy? and am I
the cause?" Jemshid replied: "No, it is simply this; those who have
feeling, and pity the sufferings of others, weep involuntarily. I pity
the misfortunes of Jemshid, driven as he is by adversity from the
splendor of a throne, and reduced to a state of destitution and ruin.
But he must now be dead; devoured, perhaps, by the wolves and lions of
the forest." The nurse and princess, however, were convinced, from the
sweetness of his voice and discourse, that he could be no other than
Jemshid himself, and taking him aside, they said: "Speak truly, art thou
not Jemshid?" But he denied himself. Again, they observed: "What says
this picture?" To this he replied; "It is not impossible that I may be
like Jemshid in feature; for surely there may be in the world two men
like each other?" And notwithstanding all the efforts made by the damsel
and her nurse to induce Jemshid to confess, he still resolutely denied
himself. Several times she assured him she would keep his secret, if he
had one, but that she was certain of his being Jemshid. Still he denied
himself. "This nurse of mine, whom thou seest," said she, "has often
repeated to me the good tidings that I should be united to Jemshid, and
bear him a son. My heart instinctively acknowledged thee at first sight:
then wherefore this denial of the truth? Many kings have solicited my
hand in marriage, but all have been rejected, as I am destined to be
thine, and united to no other." Dismissing now all her attendants, she
remained with the nurse and Jemshid, and then resumed:--

"How long hath sleep forsaken me? how long
Hath my fond heart been kept awake by love?
Hope still upheld me--give me one kind look,
And I will sacrifice my life for thee;
Come, take my life, for it is thine for ever."

Saying this, the damsel began to weep, and shedding a flood of tears,
tenderly reproached him for not acknowledging the truth. Jemshid was at
length moved by her affection and sorrow, and thus addressed
her:--"There are two considerations which at present prevent the truth
being told. One of them is my having a powerful enemy, and Heaven forbid
that he should obtain information of my place of refuge. The other is, I
never intrust my secrets to a woman!

"Fortune I dread, since fortune is my foe,
And womankind are seldom known to keep
Another's secret. To be poor and safe,
Is better far than wealth exposed to peril."
To this the princess: "Is it so decreed,
That every woman has two tongues, two hearts?
All false alike, their tempers all the same?
No, no! could I disloyally betray thee?
I who still love thee better than my life?"

Jemshid found it impossible to resist the damsel's incessant entreaties
and persuasive tenderness, mingled as they were with tears of sorrow.
Vanquished thus by the warmth of her affections, he told her his name,
and the history of his misfortunes. She then ardently seized his hand,
overjoyed at the disclosure, and taking him privately to her own
chamber, they were married according to the customs of her country.

Him to the secret bower with blushing cheek
Exultingly she led, and mutual bliss,
Springing from mutual tenderness and love,
Entranced their souls.

When Gureng the king found that his daughter's visits to him became less
frequent than usual, he set his spies to work, and was not long in
ascertaining the cause of her continued absence. She had married without
his permission, and he was in great wrath. It happened, too, at this
time that the bride was pale and in delicate health.

The mystery soon was manifest,
And thus the king his child addrest,
Whilst anger darkened o'er his brow:--
"What hast thou done, ungrateful, now?
Why hast thou flung, in evil day,
The veil of modesty away?
That cheek the bloom of spring displayed,
Now all is withered, all decayed;
But daughters, as the wise declare,
Are ever false, if they be fair."

Incensed at words so sharp and strong,
The damsel thus repelled the wrong:--
"Me, father, canst thou justly blame?
I never, never, brought thee shame;
With me can sin and crime accord,
When Jemshid is my wedded lord?"

After this precipitate avowal, the Kabul nurse, of many spells,
instantly took up her defence, and informed the king that the prophecy
she had formerly communicated to him was on the point of fulfilment, and
that the Almighty having, in the course of destiny, brought Jemshid into
his kingdom, the princess, according to the same planetary influence,
would shortly become a mother.

And now the damsel grovels on the ground
Before King Gureng. "Well thou know'st," she cries,
"From me no evil comes. Whether in arms,
Or at the banquet, honour guides me still:
And well thou know'st thy royal will pronounced
That I should be unfettered in my choice,
And free to take the husband I preferred.
This I have done; and to the greatest king
The world can boast, my fortunes are united,
To Jemshid, the most perfect of mankind."

With this explanation the king expressed abundant and unusual
satisfaction. His satisfaction, however, did not arise from the
circumstance of the marriage, and the new connection it established, but
from the opportunity it afforded him of betraying Jemshid, and
treacherously sending him bound to Zohak, which he intended to do, in
the hopes of being magnificently rewarded. Exulting with this
anticipation, he said to her smiling:--

"Glad tidings thou hast given to me,
My glory owes its birth to thee;
I bless the day, and bless the hour,
Which placed this Jemshid in my power.
Now to Zohak, a captive bound,
I send the wanderer thou hast found;
For he who charms the monarch's eyes,
With this long-sought, this noble prize,
On solemn word and oath, obtains
A wealthy kingdom for his pains."

On hearing these cruel words the damsel groaned, and wept exceedingly
before her father, and said to him: "Oh, be not accessory to the murder
of such a king! Wealth and kingdoms pass away, but a bad name remains
till the day of doom.

"Turn thee, my father, from this dreadful thought,
And save his sacred blood: let not thy name
Be syllabled with horror through the world,
For such an act as this. When foes are slain,
It is enough, but keep the sword away
From friends and kindred; shun domestic crime.
Fear him who giveth life, and strength, and power,
For goodness is most blessed. On the day
Of judgment thou wilt then be unappalled.
But if determined to divide us, first
Smite off this head, and let thy daughter die."

So deep and violent was the grief of the princess, and her lamentations
so unceasing, that the father became softened into compassion, and, on
her account, departed from the resolution he had made. He even promised
to furnish Jemshid with possessions, with treasure, and an army, and
requested her to give him the consolation he required, adding that he
would see him in the morning in his garden.

The heart-alluring damsel instant flew
To tell the welcome tidings to her lord.

Next day King Gureng proceeded to the garden, and had an interview with
Jemshid, to whom he expressed the warmest favor and affection; but
notwithstanding all he said, Jemshid could place no confidence in his
professions, and was anxious to effect his escape. He was, indeed, soon
convinced of his danger, for he had a private intimation that the king's
vizirs were consulting together on the expedience of securing his
person, under the apprehension that Zohak would be invading the country,
and consigning it to devastation and ruin, if his retreat was
discovered. He therefore took to flight.

Jemshid first turned his steps towards Chin, and afterwards into Ind. He
had travelled a great distance in that beautiful country, and one day
came to a tower, under whose shadow he sought a little repose, for the
thoughts of his melancholy and disastrous condition kept him almost
constantly awake.

And am I thus to perish? Thus forlorn,
To mingle with the dust? Almighty God!
Was ever mortal born to such a fate,
A fate so sad as mine! O that I never
Had drawn the breath of life, to perish thus!

Exhausted by the keenness of his affliction Jemshid at length fell
asleep. Zohak, in the meanwhile, had despatched an envoy, with an escort
of troops, to the Khakan of Chin, and at that moment the cavalcade
happened to be passing by the tower where Jemshid was reposing. The
envoy, attracted to the spot, immediately recognized him, and awakening
him to a sense of this new misfortune, secured the despairing and
agonized wanderer, and sent him to Zohak.

He saw a person sleeping on the ground,
And knew that it was Jemshid. Overjoyed,
He bound his feet with chains, and mounted him
Upon a horse, a prisoner.

What a world!
No place of rest for man! Fix not thy heart,
Vain mortal! on this tenement of life,
On earthly pleasures; think of Jemshid's fate;
His glory reached the Heavens, and now this world
Has bound the valiant monarch's limbs in fetters,
And placed its justice in the hands of slaves.

When Zohak received intelligence of the apprehension of his enemy, he
ordered him to be brought before the throne that he might enjoy the
triumph.

All fixed their gaze upon the captive king,
Loaded with chains; his hands behind his back;
The ponderous fetters passing from his neck
Down to his feet; oppressed with shame he stood,
Like the narcissus bent with heavy dew.
Zohak received him with a scornful smile,
Saying, "Where is thy diadem, thy throne,
Where is thy kingdom, where thy sovereign rule;
Thy laws and royal ordinances--where,
Where are they now? What change is this that fate
Has wrought upon thee?" Jemshid thus rejoined:
"Unjustly am I brought in chains before thee,
Betrayed, insulted--thou the cause of all,
And yet thou wouldst appear to feel my wrongs!"
Incensed at this defiance, mixed with scorn,
Fiercely Zohak replied, "Then choose thy death;
Shall I behead thee, stab thee, or impale thee,
Or with an arrow's point transfix thy heart!
What is thy choice?"--

"Since I am in thy power,
Do with me what thou wilt--why should I dread
Thy utmost vengeance, why express a wish
To save my body from a moment's pain!"

As soon as Zohak heard these words he resolved upon a horrible deed of
vengeance. He ordered two planks to be brought, and Jemshid being
fastened down between them, his body was divided the whole length with a
saw, making two figures of Jemshid out of one!

Why do mankind upon this fleeting world
Place their affections, wickedness alone
Is nourished into freshness; sounds of death, too,
Are ever on the gale to wear out life.
My heart is satisfied--O Heaven! no more,
Free me at once from this continual sorrow.

It was not long before tidings of the foul proceedings, which put an end
to the existence of the unfortunate Jemshid, reached Zabulistan. The
princess, his wife, on hearing of his fate, wasted away with
inconsolable grief, and at last took poison to unburden herself of
insupportable affliction.

It is related that Jemshid had two sisters, named Shahrnaz and Arnawaz.
They had been both seized, and conveyed to Zohak by his people, and
continued in confinement for some time in the King's harem, but they
were afterwards released by Feridun.

The tyrant's cruelty and oppression had become intolerable. He was
constantly shedding blood, and committing every species of crime.

The serpents still on human brains were fed,
And every day two youthful victims bled;
The sword, still ready--thirsting still to strike,
Warrior and slave were sacrificed alike.

The career of Zohak himself, however, was not unvisited by terrors. One
night he dreamt that he was attacked by three warriors; two of them of
large stature, and one of them small. The youngest struck him a blow on
the head with his mace, bound his hands, and casting a rope round his
neck, dragged him along in the presence of crowds of people. Zohak
screamed, and sprung up from his sleep in the greatest horror. The
females of his harem were filled with amazement when they beheld the
terrified countenance of the king who, in reply to their inquiries,
said, trembling: "This is a dream too dreadful to be concealed." He
afterwards called together the Mubids, or wise men of his court; and
having communicated to them the particulars of what had appeared to him
in his sleep, commanded them to give him a faithful interpretation of
the dream. The Mubids foresaw in this vision the approaching declension
of his power and dominion, but were afraid to explain their opinions,
because they were sure that their lives would be sacrificed if the true
interpretation was given to him. Three days were consumed under the
pretence of studying more scrupulously all the signs and appearances,
and still not one of them had courage to speak out. On the fourth day
the king grew angry, and insisted upon the dream being interpreted. In
this dilemma, the Mubids said, "Then, if the truth must be told, without
evasion, thy life approaches to an end, and Feridun, though yet unborn,
will be thy successor,"--"But who was it," inquired Zohak impatiently,
"that struck the blow on my head?" The Mubids declared, with fear and
trembling, "it was the apparition of Feridun himself, who is destined to
smite thee on the head."--"But why," rejoined Zohak, "does he wish to
injure me?"--"Because, his father's blood being spilt by thee, vengeance
falls into his hands." Hearing this interpretation of his dream, the
king sunk senseless on the ground; and when he recovered, he could
neither sleep nor take food, but continued overwhelmed with sorrow and
misery. The light of his day was forever darkened.

Abtin was the name of Feridun's father, and that of his mother Faranuk,
of the race of Tahumers. Zohak, therefore, stimulated to further cruelty
by the prophecy, issued an order that every person belonging to the
family of the Kais, wherever found, should be seized and fettered, and
brought to him. Abtin had long avoided discovery, continuing to reside
in the most retired and solitary places; but one day his usual
circumspection forsook him, and he ventured beyond his limits. This
imprudent step was dreadfully punished, for the spies of Zohak fell in
with him, recognized him, and carrying him to the king, he was
immediately put to death. When the mother of Feridun heard of this
sanguinary catastrophe, she took up her infant and fled. It is said that
Feridun was at that time only two months old. In her flight, the mother
happened to arrive at some pasturage ground. The keeper of the pasture
had a cow named Pur'maieh, which yielded abundance of milk, and he gave
it away in charity. In consequence of the grief and distress of mind
occasioned by the murder of her husband, Faranuk's milk dried up in her
breasts, and she was therefore under the necessity of feeding the child
with the milk from the cow. She remained there one night, and would have
departed in the morning; but considering the deficiency of milk, and the
misery in which she was involved, continually afraid of being discovered
and known, she did not know what to do. At length she thought it best to
leave Feridun with the keeper of the pasture, and resigning him to the
protection of God, went herself to the mountain Alberz. The keeper
readily complied with the tenderest wishes of the mother, and nourished
the child with the fondness and affection of a parent during the space
of three years. After that period had elapsed, deep sorrow continuing to
afflict the mind of Faranuk, she returned secretly to the old man of the
pasture, for the purpose of reclaiming and conveying Feridun to a safer
place of refuge upon the mountain Alberz. The keeper said to her: "Why
dost thou take the child to the mountain? he will perish there;" but she
replied that God Almighty had inspired a feeling in her heart that it
was necessary to remove him. It was a divine inspiration, and verified
by the event.

Intelligence having at length reached Zohak that the son of Abtin was
nourished and protected by the keeper of the pasture, he himself
proceeded with a large force to the spot, where he put to death the
keeper and all his tribe, and also the cow which had supplied milk to
Feridun, whom he sought for in vain.

He found the dwelling of his infant-foe,
And laid it in the dust; the very ground
Was punished for the sustenance it gave him.

The ancient records relate that a dervish happened to have taken up his
abode in the mountain Alberz, and that Faranuk committed her infant to
his fostering care. The dervish generously divided with the mother and
son all the food and comforts which God gave him, and at the same time
he took great pains in storing the mind of Feridun with various kinds of
knowledge. One day he said to the mother: "The person foretold by wise
men and astrologers as the destroyer of Zohak and his tyranny, is thy
son!

"This child to whom thou gavest birth,
Will be the monarch of the earth;"

and the mother, from several concurring indications and signs, held a
similar conviction.

When Feridun had attained his sixteenth year, he descended from the
mountain, and remained for a time on the plain beneath. He inquired of
his mother why Zohak had put his father to death, and Faranuk then told
him the melancholy story; upon hearing which, he resolved to be revenged
on the tyrant. His mother endeavored to divert him from his
determination, observing that he was young, friendless, and alone,
whilst his enemy was the master of the world, and surrounded by armies.
"Be not therefore precipitate," said she. "If it is thy destiny to
become a king, wait till the Almighty shall bless thee with means
sufficient for the purpose."

Displeased, the youth his mother's caution heard,
And meditating vengeance on the head
Of him who robbed him of a father, thus
Impatiently replied:--"'Tis Heaven inspires me;
Led on by Heaven, this arm will quickly bring
The tyrant from his palace, to the dust."
"Imprudent boy!" the anxious mother said;
"Canst thou contend against imperial power?
Must I behold thy ruin? Pause awhile,
And perish not in this wild enterprise."

It is recorded that Zohak's dread of Feridun was so great, that day by
day he became more irritable, wasting away in bitterness of spirit, for
people of all ranks kept continually talking of the young invader, and
were daily expecting his approach. At last he came, and Zohak was
subdued, and his power extinguished.

KAVAH, THE BLACKSMITH

Zohak having one day summoned together all the nobles and philosophers
of the kingdom, he said to them: "I find that a young enemy has risen up
against me; but notwithstanding his tender years, there is no safety
even with an apparently insignificant foe. I hear, too, that though
young, he is distinguished for his prowess and wisdom; yet I fear not
him, but the change of fortune. I wish therefore to assemble a large
army, consisting of Men, Demons, and Peris, that this enemy may be
surrounded, and conquered. And, further, since a great enterprise is on
the eve of being undertaken, it will be proper in future to keep a
register or muster-roll of all the people of every age in my dominions,
and have it revised annually." The register, including both old and
young, was accordingly prepared.

At that period there lived a man named Kavah, a blacksmith, remarkably
strong and brave, and who had a large family. Upon the day on which it
fell to the lot of two of his children to be killed to feed the
serpents, he rose up with indignation in presence of the king, and said:

"Thou art the king, but wherefore on my head
Cast fire and ashes? If thou hast the form
Of hissing dragon, why to me be cruel?
Why give the brains of my beloved children
As serpent-food, and talk of doing justice?"

At this bold speech the monarch was dismayed,
And scarcely knowing what he did, released
The blacksmith's sons. How leapt the father's heart,
How warmly he embraced his darling boys!
But now Zohak directs that Kavah's name
Shall be inscribed upon the register.
Soon as the blacksmith sees it written there,
Wrathful he turns towards the chiefs assembled,
Exclaiming loud: "Are ye then men, or what,
Leagued with a Demon!" All astonished heard,
And saw him tear the hated register,
And cast it under foot with rage and scorn.

Kavah having thus reviled the king bitterly, and destroyed the register
of blood, departed from the court, and took his children along with him.
After he had gone away, the nobles said to the king:

"Why should reproaches, sovereign of the world,
Be thus permitted? Why the royal scroll
Torn in thy presence, with a look and voice
Of proud defiance, by the rebel blacksmith?
So fierce his bearing, that he seems to be
A bold confederate of this Feridun."
Zohak replied: "I know not what o'ercame me,
But when I saw him with such vehemence
Of grief and wild distraction, strike his forehead,
Lamenting o'er his children, doomed to death,
Amazement seized my heart, and chained my will.
What may become of this, Heaven only knows,
For none can pierce the veil of destiny."

Kavah, meanwhile, with warning voice set forth
What wrongs the nation suffered, and there came
Multitudes round him, who called out aloud
For justice! justice! On his javelin's point
He fixed his leathern apron for a banner,
And lifting it on high, he went abroad
To call the people to a task of vengeance.
Wherever it was seen crowds followed fast,
Tired of the cruel tyranny they suffered.
"Let us unite with Feridun," he cried,
"And from Zohak's oppression we are free!"
And still he called aloud, and all obeyed
Who heard him, high and low. Anxious he sought
For Feridun, not knowing his retreat:
But still he hoped success would crown his search.

The hour arrived, and when he saw the youth,
Instinctively he knew him, and thanked Heaven
For that good fortune. Then the leathern banner
Was splendidly adorned with gold and jewels,
And called the flag of Kavah. From that time
It was a sacred symbol; every king
In future, on succeeding to the throne,
Did honor to that banner, the true sign
Of royalty, in veneration held.

Feridun, aided by the directions and advice of the blacksmith, now
proceeded against Zohak. His mother wept to see him depart, and
continually implored the blessing of God upon him. He had two elder
brothers, whom he took along with him. Desirous of having a mace formed
like the head of a cow, he requested Kavah to make one of iron, and it
was accordingly made in the shape he described. In his progress, he
visited a shrine or place of pilgrimage frequented by the worshippers of
God, where he besought inspiration and aid, and where he was taught by a
radiant personage the mysteries of the magic art, receiving from him a
key to every secret.

Bright beamed his eye, with firmer step he strode,
His smiling cheek with warmer crimson glowed.

When his two brothers saw his altered mien, the pomp and splendor of his
appearance, they grew envious of his good fortune, and privately
meditated his fall. One day they found him asleep at the foot of a
mountain, and they immediately went to the top and rolled down a heavy
fragment of rock upon him with the intention of crushing him to death;
but the clattering noise of the stone awoke him, and, instantly
employing the knowledge of sorcery which had been communicated to him,
the stone was suddenly arrested by him in its course. The brothers
beheld this with astonishment, and hastening down the mountain, cried
aloud: "We know not how the stone was loosened from its place: God
forbid that it should have done any injury to Feridun." Feridun,
however, was well aware of this being the evil work of his brothers, but
he took no notice of the conspiracy, and instead of punishing them,
raised them to higher dignity and consequence.

They saw that Kavah directed the route of Feridun over the mountainous
tracts and plains which lie contiguous to the banks of the Dijleh, or
Tigris, close to the city of Bagdad. Upon reaching that river, they
called for boats, but got no answer from the ferryman; at which Feridun
was enraged, and immediately plunged, on horseback, into the foaming
stream. All his army followed without delay, and with the blessing of
God arrived on the other side in safety. He then turned toward the
Bait-el-Mukaddus, built by Zohak. In the Pahlavi language it was called
Kunuk-duz-mokt. The tower of this edifice was so lofty that it might be
seen at the distance of many leagues, and within that tower Zohak had
formed a talisman of miraculous virtues. Feridun soon overthrew this
talisman, and destroyed or vanquished successively with his mace all the
enchanted monsters and hideous shapes which appeared before him. He
captured the whole of the building, and released all the black-eyed
damsels who were secluded there, and among them Shahrnaz and Arnawaz,
the two sisters of Jemshid before alluded to. He then ascended the empty
throne of Zohak, which had been guarded by the talisman, and the Demons
under his command; and when he heard that the tyrant had gone with an
immense army toward Ind, in quest of his new enemy, and had left his
treasury with only a small force at the seat of his government, he
rejoiced, and appropriated the throne and the treasure to himself.

From their dark solitudes the Youth brought forth
The black-haired damsels, lovely as the sun,
And Jemshid's sisters, long imprisoned there;
And gladly did the inmates of that harem
Pour out their gratitude on being freed
From that terrific monster; thanks to Heaven
Devoutly they expressed, and ardent joy.

Feridun inquired of Arnawaz why Zohak had chosen the route towards Ind;
and she replied, "For two reasons: the first is, he expects to encounter
thee in that quarter; and if he fails, he will subdue the whole country,
which is the seat of sorcery, and thus obtain possession of a renowned
magician who can charm thee into his power.

"He wishes to secure within his grasp
That region of enchantment, Hindustan,
And then obtain relief from what he feels;
For night and day the terror of thy name
Oppresses him, his heart is all on fire,
And life is torture to him."

FERIDUN

Kandru, the keeper of the talisman, having effected his escape, fled to
Zohak, to whom he gave intelligence of the release of his women, the
destruction of the talisman, and the conquest of his empire.

"The sign of retribution has appeared,
For sorrow is the fruit of evil deeds."
Thus Kandru spoke: "Three warriors have advanced
Upon thy kingdom from a distant land,
One of them young, and from his air and mien
He seems to me of the Kaianian race.
He came, and boldly seized the splendid throne,
And all thy spells, and sorceries, and magic,
Were instantly dissolved by higher power,
And all who dwelt within thy palace walls,
Demon or man, all utterly destroyed,
Their severed heads cast weltering on the ground."
Then was Zohak confounded, and he shrunk
Within himself with terror, thinking now
His doom was sealed; but anxious to appear
In presence of his army, gay and cheerful,
Lest they too should despair, he dressed himself
In rich attire, and with a pleasant look,
Said carelessly: "Perhaps some gamesome guest
Hath in his sport committed this strange act."
"A guest, indeed!" Kandru replied, "a guest,
In playful mood to batter down thy palace!
If he had been thy guest, why with his mace,
Cow-headed, has he done such violence?
Why did he penetrate thy secret chambers,
And bring to light the beautiful Shahrnaz,
And red-lipped Arnawaz?" At this, Zohak
Trembled with wrath--the words were death to him;
And sternly thus he spoke: "What hast thou fled
Through fear, betraying thy important trust?
No longer shalt thou share my confidence,
No longer share my bounty and regard."
To this the keeper tauntingly replied:
"Thy kingdom is overthrown, and nothing now
Remains for thee to give me; thou art lost."

The tyrant immediately turned towards his army, with the intention of
making a strong effort to regain his throne, but he found that as soon
as the soldiers and the people were made acquainted with the proceedings
and success of Feridun, rebellion arose among them, and shuddering with
horror at the cruelty exercised by him in providing food for the
accursed serpents, they preferred embracing the cause of the new king.
Zohak, seeing that he had lost the affections of the army, and that
universal revolt was the consequence, adopted another course, and
endeavored alone to be revenged upon his enemy. He proceeded on his
journey, and arriving by night at the camp of Feridun, hoped to find him
off his guard and put him to death. He ascended a high place, himself
unobserved, from which he saw Feridun sitting engaged in soft dalliance
with the lovely Shahrnaz. The fire of jealousy and revenge now consumed
him more fiercely, and he was attempting to effect his purpose, when
Feridun was roused by the noise, and starting up struck a furious blow
with his cow-headed mace upon the temples of Zohak, which crushed the
bone, and he was on the point of giving him another; but a supernatural
voice whispered in his ear,

"Slay him not now--his time is not yet come,
His punishment must be prolonged awhile;
And as he cannot now survive the wound,
Bind him with heavy chains--convey him straight
Upon the mountain, there within a cave,
Deep, dark, and horrible--with none to soothe
His sufferings, let the murderer lingering die."

The work of heaven performing, Feridun
First purified the world from sin and crime.

Yet Feridun was not an angel, nor
Composed of musk or ambergris. By justice
And generosity he gained his fame.
Do thou but exercise these princely virtues,
And thou wilt be renowned as Feridun.

FERIDUN AND HIS THREE SONS

Feridun had three sons. One of them was named Silim, the other Tur, and
the third Irij. When they had grown up, he called before him a learned
person named Chundel, and said to him: "Go thou in quest of three
daughters, born of the same father and mother, and adorned with every
grace and accomplishment, that I may have my three sons married into one
family." Chundel departed accordingly, and travelled through many
countries in fruitless search, till he came to the King of Yemen, whose
name was Saru, and found that he had three daughters of the character
and qualifications required. He therefore delivered Feridun's
proposition to him, to which the King of Yemen agreed. Then Feridun sent
his three sons to Yemen, and they married the three daughters of the
king, who gave them splendid dowries in treasure and jewels. It is
related that Feridun afterwards divided his empire among his sons. To
Silim he gave Rum and Khawer; to Tur, Turan;[2] and to Irij, Iran or
Persia. The sons then repaired to their respective kingdoms. Persia was
a beautiful country, and the garden of spring, full of freshness and
perfume; Turan, on the contrary, was less cultivated, and the scene of
perpetual broils and insurrections. The elder brother, Silim, was
therefore discontented with the unfair partition of the empire, and
displeased with his father. He sent to Tur, saying: "Our father has
given to Irij the most delightful and productive kingdom, and to us, two
wild uncultivated regions. I am the eldest son, and I am not satisfied
with this distribution--what sayest thou?" When this message was
communicated to Tur, he fully concurred in the sentiments expressed by
his brother, and determined to unite with him in any undertaking that
might promise the accomplishment of their purpose, which was to deprive
Irij of his dominions. But he thought it would be most expedient, in the
first instance, to make their father acquainted with the dissatisfaction
he had produced; "for," he thought to himself, "in a new distribution,
he may assign Persia to me." Then he wrote to Silim, advising that a
messenger should be sent at once to Feridun to inform him of their
dissatisfaction, and bring back a reply. The same messenger was
dispatched by Silim accordingly on that mission,

Charged with unfilial language. "Give," he said,
"This stripling Irij a more humble portion,
Or we will, from the mountains of Turan,
From Rum, and Chin, bring overwhelming troops,
Inured to war, and shower disgrace and ruin
On him and Persia."

When the messenger arrived at the court of Feridun, and had obtained
permission to appear in the presence of the king, he kissed the ground
respectfully, and by command related the purpose of his journey. Feridun
was surprised and displeased, and said, in reply:

"Have I done wrong, done evil? None, but good.
I gave ye kingdoms, that was not a crime;
But if ye fear not me, at least fear God.
My ebbing life approaches to an end,
And the possessions of this fleeting world
Will soon pass from me. I am grown too old
To have my passions roused by this rebellion;
All I can do is, with paternal love,
To counsel peace. Be with your lot contented;
Seek not unnatural strife, but cherish peace."

After the departure of the messenger Feridun called Irij before him, and
said: "Thy two brothers, who are older than thou art, have confederated
together and threaten to bring a large army against thee for the purpose
of seizing thy kingdom, and putting thee to death. I have received this
information from a messenger, who further says, that if I take thy part
they will also wage war upon me." And after Irij had declared that in
this extremity he was anxious to do whatever his father might advise,
Feridun continued: "My son, thou art unable to resist the invasion of
even one brother; it will, therefore, be impossible for thee to oppose
both. I am now aged and infirm, and my only wish is to pass the
remainder of my days in retirement and repose. Better, then, will it be
for thee to pursue the path of peace and friendship, and like me throw
away all desire for dominion.

"For if the sword of anger is unsheathed,
And war comes on, thy head will soon be freed
From all the cares of government and life.
There is no cause for thee to quit the world,
The path of peace and amity is thine."

Irij agreed with his father, and declared that he would willingly
sacrifice his throne and diadem rather than go to war with his brothers.

"Look at the Heavens, how they roll on;
And look at man, how soon he's gone.
A breath of wind, and then no more;
A world like this, should man deplore?"

With these sentiments Irij determined to repair immediately to his
brothers, and place his kingdom at their disposal, hoping by this means
to merit their favor and affection, and he said:

"I feel no resentment, I seek not for strife,
I wish not for thrones and the glories of life;
What is glory to man?--an illusion, a cheat;
What did it for Jemshid, the world at his feet?
When I go to my brothers their anger may cease,
Though vengeance were fitter than offers of peace."

Feridun observed to him: "It is well that thy desire is for
reconciliation, as thy brothers are preparing for war." He then wrote a
letter to his sons, in which he said: "Your younger brother considers
your friendship and esteem of more consequence to him than his crown and
throne. He has banished from his heart every feeling of resentment
against you; do you, in the like manner, cast away hostility from your
hearts against him. Be kind to him, for it is incumbent upon the eldest
born to be indulgent and affectionate to their younger brothers.
Although your consideration for my happiness has passed away, I still
wish to please you." As soon as the letter was finished, Irij mounted
his horse, and set off on his journey, accompanied by several of his
friends, but not in such a manner, and with such an equipment, as might
betray his rank or character. When he arrived with his attendants in
Turkistan, he found that the armies of his two brothers were ready to
march against him. Silim and Tur, being apprised of the approach of
Irij, went out of the city, according to ancient usage, to meet the
deputation which was conveying to them their father's letter. Irij was
kindly received by them, and accommodated in the royal residence.

It is said that Irij was in person extremely prepossessing, and that
when the troops first beheld him, they exclaimed: "He is indeed fit to
be a king!" In every place all eyes were fixed upon him, and wherever he
moved he was followed and surrounded by the admiring army and crowds of
people.

In numerous groups the soldiers met, and blessed
The name of Irij, saying in their hearts,
This is the man to lead an armed host,
And worthy of the diadem and throne.

The courtiers of the two brothers, alarmed by these demonstrations of
attachment to Irij continually before their eyes, represented to Silim
and Tur that the army was disaffected towards them, and that Irij alone
was considered deserving of the supreme authority. This intimation
exasperated the malignant spirit of the two brothers: for although at
first determined to put Irij to death, his youth and prepossessing
appearance had in some degree subdued their animosity. They were
therefore pleased with the intelligence, because it afforded a new and
powerful reason for getting rid of him. "Look at our troops," said Silim
to Tur, "how they assemble in circles together, and betray their
admiration of him. I fear they will never march against Persia. Indeed
it is not improbable that even the kingdom of Turan may fall into his
hands, since the hearts of our soldiers have become so attached to him.

"No time is this to deviate from our course,
We must rush on; our armies plainly show
Their love for Irij, and if we should fail
To root up from its place this flourishing tree,
Our cause is lost for ever."

Again, Silim said to Tur: "Thou must put Irij to death, and then his
kingdom will be thine." Tur readily undertook to commit that crime, and,
on the following day, at an interview with Irij, he said to him: "Why
didst thou consent to be the ruler of Persia, and fail in showing a
proper regard for the interests of thy elder brothers? Whilst our barren
kingdoms are constantly in a state of warfare with the Turks, thou art
enjoying peace and tranquillity upon the throne of a fruitful country?
Must we, thy elder brothers, remain thus under thy commands, and in
subordinate stations?

"Must thou have gold and treasure,
And thy heart be wrapt in pleasure,
Whilst we, thy elder born,
Of our heritage are shorn?
Must the youngest still be nursed,
And the elder branches cursed?
And condemned, by stern command,
To a wild and sterile land?"

When Irij heard these words from Tur, he immediately replied, saying:

"I only seek tranquillity and peace;
I look not on the crown of sovereignty.
Nor seek a name among the Persian host;
And though the throne and diadem are mine,
I here renounce them, satisfied to lead
A private life. For what hath ever been
The end of earthly power and pomp, but darkness?
I seek not to contend against my brothers;
Why should I grieve their hearts, or give distress
To any human being? I am young,
And Heaven forbid that I should prove unkind!"

Notwithstanding, however, these declarations of submission, and repeated
assurances of his resolution to resign the monarchy of Persia, Tur would
not believe one word. In a moment he sprung up, and furiously seizing
the golden chair from which he had just risen, struck a violent blow
with it on the head of Irij, calling aloud, "Bind him, bind him!" The
youth, struggling on the ground, exclaimed: "O, think of thy father, and
pity me! Have compassion on thy own soul! I came for thy protection,
therefore do not take my life: if thou dost, my blood will call out for
vengeance to the Almighty. I ask only for peace and retirement. Think of
my father, and pity me!

"Wouldst thou, with life endowed, take life away?
Torture not the poor ant, which drags the grain
Along the dust; it has a life, and life
Is sweet and precious. Did the innocent ant
Offend thee ever? Cruel must he be
Who would destroy a living thing so harmless!
And wilt thou, reckless, shed thy brother's blood,
And agonize the feelings of a father?
Pause, and avoid the wrath of righteous Heaven!"

But Tur was not to be softened by the supplications of his brother.
Without giving any reply, he drew his dagger, and instantly dissevered
the head of the youth from his body.

With musk and ambergris he first embalmed
The head of Irij, then to his old father
Dispatched the present with these cruel words:
"Here is the head of thy beloved son,
Thy darling favourite, dress it with a crown
As thou wert wont; and mark the goodly fruit
Thou hast produced. Adorn thy ivory throne,
In all its splendour, for this worthy head,
And place it in full majesty before thee!"

In the meantime, Feridun had prepared a magnificent reception for his
son. The period of his return had arrived, and he was in anxious
expectation of seeing him, when suddenly he received intelligence that
Irij had been put to death by his brothers. The mournful spectacle soon
reached his father's house.

A scream of agony burst from his heart,
As wildly in his arms he clasped the face
Of his poor slaughtered son; then down he sank
Senseless upon the earth. The soldiers round
Bemoaned the sad catastrophe, and rent
Their garments in their grief. The souls of all
Were filled with gloom, their eyes with flowing tears,
For hope had promised a far different scene;
A day of heart-felt mirth and joyfulness,
When Irij to his father's house returned.

After the extreme agitation of Feridun had subsided, he directed all his
people to wear black apparel, in honor of the murdered youth, and all
his drums and banners to be torn to pieces. They say that subsequent to
this dreadful calamity he always wore black clothes. The head of Irij
was buried in a favorite garden, where he had been accustomed to hold
weekly a rural entertainment. Feridun, in performing the last ceremony,
pressed it to his bosom, and with streaming eyes exclaimed:

"O Heaven, look down upon my murdered boy;
His severed head before me, but his body
Torn by those hungry wolves! O grant my prayer,
That I may see, before I die, the seed
Of Irij hurl just vengeance on the heads
Of his assassins; hear, O hear my prayer."
--Thus he in sorrow for his favourite son
Obscured the light which might have sparkled still,
Withering the jasmine flower of happy days;
So that his pale existence looked like death.

MINUCHIHR

Feridun continued to cherish with the fondest affection the memory of
his murdered son, and still looked forward with anxiety to the
anticipated hour of retribution. He fervently hoped that a son might be
born to take vengeance for his father's death. But it so happened that
Mahafrid, the wife of Irij, gave birth to a daughter. When this daughter
grew up, Feridun gave her in marriage to Pishung, and from that union an
heir was born who in form and feature resembled Irij and Feridun. He was
called Minuchihr, and great rejoicings took place on the occasion of his
birth.

The old man's lips, with smiles apart,
Bespoke the gladness of his heart.
And in his arms he took the boy
The harbinger of future joy;
Delighted that indulgent Heaven
To his fond hopes this pledge had given,
It seemed as if, to bless his reign,
Irij had come to life again.

The child was nourished with great tenderness during his infancy, and
when he grew up he was sedulously instructed in every art necessary to
form the character, and acquire the accomplishments of a warrior.
Feridun was accustomed to place him on the throne, and decorate his
brows with the crown of sovereignty; and the soldiers enthusiastically
acknowledged him as their king, urging him to rouse himself and take
vengeance of his enemies for the murder of his grandfather. Having
opened his treasury, Feridun distributed abundance of gold among the
people, so that Minuchihr was in a short time enabled to embody an
immense army, by whom he was looked upon with attachment and admiration.

When Silim and Tur were informed of the preparations that were making
against them, that Minuchihr, having grown to manhood, was distinguished
for his valor and intrepidity, and that multitudes flocked to his
standard with the intention of forwarding his purpose of revenge, they
were seized with inexpressible terror, and anticipated an immediate
invasion of their kingdoms. Thus alarmed, they counselled together upon
the course it would be wisest to adopt.

"Should he advance, his cause is just,
And blood will mingle with the dust,
But heaven forbid our power should be
O'erwhelmed to give him victory;
Though strong his arm, and wild his ire,
And vengeance keen his heart inspire."

They determined, at length, to pursue pacific measures, and endeavor by
splendid presents and conciliatory language to regain the good-will of
Feridun. The elephants were immediately loaded with treasure, a crown of
gold, and other articles of value, and a messenger was dispatched,
charged with an acknowledgment of guilt and abundant expressions of
repentance. "It was Iblis," they said, "who led us astray, and our
destiny has been such that we are in every way criminal. But thou art
the ocean of mercy; pardon our offences. Though manifold, they were
involuntary, and forgiveness will cleanse our hearts and restore us to
ourselves. Let our tears wash away the faults we have committed. To
Minuchihr and to thyself we offer obedience and fealty, and we wait your
commands, being but the dust of your feet."

When the messenger arrived at the court of Feridun he first delivered
the magnificent presents, and the king, having placed Minuchihr on a
golden chair by his side, observed to him, "These presents are to thee a
prosperous and blessed omen--they show that thy enemy is afraid of
thee." Then the messenger was permitted to communicate the object of his
mission.

He spoke with studied phrase, intent to hide,
Or mitigate the horror of their crime;
And with excuses plausible and bland
His speech was dressed. The brothers, he observed,
Desired to see their kinsman Minuchihr,
And with the costliest gems they sought to pay
The price of kindred blood unjustly shed--
And they would willingly to him resign
Their kingdoms for the sake of peace and friendship.

The monarch marked him scornfully, and said:
"Canst thou conceal the sun? It is in vain
Truth to disguise with words of shallow meaning.
Now hear my answer. Ask thy cruel masters,
Who talk of their affection for the prince,
Where lies the body of the gentle Irij?
Him they have slain, the fierce, unnatural brothers,
And now they thirst to gain another victim.
They long to see the face of Minuchihr!
Yes, and they shall, surrounded by his soldiers,
And clad in steel, and they shall feel the edge
Of life-destroying swords. Yes, they shall see him!"

After uttering this indignant speech, Feridun showed to the messenger
his great warriors, one by one. He showed him Kavah and his two sons,
Shahpur, and Shirueh, and Karun, and Sam,[3] and Nariman, and other
chiefs--all of admirable courage and valor in war--and thus resumed:

"Hence with your presents, hence, away,
Can gold or gems turn night to day?
Must kingly heads be bought and sold,
And shall I barter blood for gold?
Shall gold a father's heart entice,
Blood to redeem beyond all price?
Hence, hence with treachery; I have heard
Their glozing falsehoods, every word;
But human feelings guide my will,
And keep my honour sacred still.
True is the oracle we read:
'Those who have sown oppression's seed
Reap bitter fruit; their souls, perplext,
Joy not in this world or the next.'
The brothers of my murdered boy,
Who could a father's hopes destroy,
An equal punishment will reap,
And lasting vengeance o'er them sweep.
They rooted up my favourite tree,
But yet a branch remains to me.
Now the young lion comes apace,
The glory of his glorious race;
He comes apace, to punish guilt,
Where brother's blood was basely spilt;
And blood alone for blood must pay;
Hence with your gold, depart, away!"

When the messenger heard these reproaches, mingled with poison, he
immediately took leave, and trembling with fear, returned to Silim and
Tur with the utmost speed. He described to them in strong and alarming
terms the appearance and character of Minuchihr, and his warriors; of
that noble youth who with frowning eyebrows was only anxious for battle.
He then communicated to them in what manner he had been received, and
repeated the denunciations of Feridun, at which the brothers were
exceedingly grieved and disappointed. But Silim said to Tur:

"Let us be first upon the field, before
He marshals his array. It follows not,
That he should be a hero bold and valiant,
Because he is descended from the brave;
But it becomes us well to try our power,--
For speed, in war, is better than delay."

In this spirit the two brothers rapidly collected from both their
kingdoms a large army, and proceeded towards Iran. On hearing of their
progress, Feridun said: "This is well--they come of themselves. The
forest game surrenders itself voluntarily at the foot of the sportsman."
Then he commanded his army to wait quietly till they arrived; for skill
and patience, he observed, will draw the lion's head into your toils.

As soon as the enemy had approached within a short distance, Minuchihr
solicited Feridun to commence the engagement--and the king having
summoned his chief warriors before him, appointed them all, one by one,
to their proper places.

The warriors of renown assembled straight
With ponderous clubs; each like a lion fierce,
Girded his loins impatient. In their front
The sacred banner of the blacksmith waved;
Bright scimitars were brandished in the air;
Beneath them pranced their steeds, all armed for fight,
And so incased in iron were the chiefs
From top to toe, their eyes were only seen.

When Karun drew his hundred thousand troops
Upon the field, the battle-word was given,
And Minuchihr was, like the cypress tall,
Engaged along the centre of the hosts;
And like the moon he shone, amid the groups
Of congregated clouds, or as the sun
Glittering upon the mountain of Alberz.
The squadrons in advance Kabad commanded,
Garshasp the left, and Sam upon the right.

The shedders of a brother's blood had now
Brought their innumerous legions to the strife,
And formed them in magnificent array:
The picket guards were almost thrown together,
When Tur sprung forward, and with sharp reproach,
And haughty gesture, thus addressed Kabad:
"Ask this new king, this Minuchihr, since Heaven
To Irij gave a daughter, who on him
Bestowed the mail, the battle-axe, and sword?"
To this insulting speech, Kabad replied:
"The message shall be given, and I will bring
The answer, too. Ye know what ye have done;
Have ye not murdered him who, trusting, sought
Protection from ye? All mankind for this
Must curse your memory till the day of doom;
If savage monsters were to fly your presence,
It would not be surprising. Those who die
In this most righteous cause will go to Heaven,
With all their sins forgotten!" Then Kabad
Went to the king, and told the speech of Tur:
A smile played o'er the cheek of Minuchihr
As thus he spoke: "A boaster he must be,
Or a vain fool, for when engaged in battle,
Vigour of arm and the enduring soul,
Will best be proved. I ask but for revenge--
Vengeance for Irij slain. Meanwhile, return;
We shall not fight to-day."

He too retired,
And in his tent upon the sandy plain,
Ordered the festive board to be prepared,
And wine and music whiled the hours away.

When morning dawned the battle commenced, and multitudes were slain on
both sides.

The spacious plain became a sea of blood;
It seemed as if the earth was covered o'er
With crimson tulips; slippery was the ground,
And all in dire confusion.

The army of Minuchihr was victorious, owing to the bravery and skill of
the commander. But Heaven was in his favor.

In the evening Silim and Tur consulted together, and came to the
resolution of effecting a formidable night attack on the enemy. The
spies of Minuchihr, however, obtained information of this intention, and
communicated the secret to the king. Minuchihr immediately placed the
army in charge of Karun, and took himself thirty thousand men to wait in
ambuscade for the enemy, and frustrate his views. Tur advanced with a
hundred thousand men; but as he advanced, he found every one on the
alert, and aware of his approach. He had gone too far to retreat in the
dark without fighting, and therefore began a vigorous conflict.
Minuchihr sprung up from his ambuscade, and with his thirty thousand men
rushed upon the centre of the enemy's troops, and in the end encountered
Tur. The struggle was not long. Minuchihr dexterously using his javelin,
hurled him from his saddle precipitately to the ground, and then with
his dagger severed the head from his body. The body he left to be
devoured by the beasts of the field, and the head he sent as a trophy to
Feridun; after which, he proceeded in search of Silim.

The army of the confederates, however, having suffered such a signal
defeat, Silim thought it prudent to fall back and take refuge in a fort.
But Minuchihr went in pursuit, and besieged the castle. One day a
warrior named Kaku made a sally out of the fort, and approaching the
centre of the besieging army, threw a javelin at Minuchihr, which,
however, fell harmless before it reached its aim. Then Minuchihr seized
the enemy by the girdle, raised him up in air, and flung him from his
saddle to the ground.

He grasped the foe-man by the girth,
And thundering drove him to the earth;
By wound of spear, and gory brand,
He died upon the burning sand.

The siege was continued for some time with the view of weakening the
power of Silim; at last Minuchihr sent a message to him, saying: "Let
the battle be decided between us. Quit the fort, and boldly meet me
here, that it may be seen to whom God gives the victory." Silim could
not, without disgrace, refuse this challenge: he descended from the
fort, and met Minuchihr. A desperate conflict ensued, and he was slain
on the spot. Minuchihr's keen sword severed the royal head from the
body, and thus quickly ended the career of Silim. After that, the whole
of the enemy's troops were defeated and put to flight in every
direction.

The leading warriors of the routed army now sought protection from
Minuchihr, who immediately complied with their solicitation, and by
their influence all the forces of Silim and Tur united under him. To
each he gave rank according to his merits. After the victory, Minuchihr
hastened to pay his respects to Feridun, who received him with praises
and thanksgivings, and the customary honors. Returning from the battle,
Feridun met him on foot; and the moment Minuchihr beheld the venerable
monarch, he alighted and kissed the ground. They then, seated in the
palace together, congratulated themselves on the success of their arms.
In a short time after, the end of Feridun approached; when recommending
Minuchihr to the care of Sam and Nariman, he said: "My hour of departure
has arrived, and I place the prince under your protection." He then
directed Minuchihr to be seated on the throne;

And put himself the crown upon his head,
And stored his mind with counsel good and wise.

Upon the death of Feridun, Minuchihr accordingly succeeded to the
government of the empire, and continued to observe strictly all the laws
and regulations of his great grandfather. He commanded his subjects to
be constant in the worship of God.

The army and the people gave him praise,
Prayed for his happiness and length of days;
Our hearts, they said, are ever bound to thee;
Our hearts, inspired by love and loyalty.

ZAL, THE SON OF SAM

According to the traditionary histories from which Firdusi has derived
his legends, the warrior Sam had a son born to him whose hair was
perfectly white. On his birth the nurse went to Sam and told him that
God had blessed him with a wonderful child, without a single blemish,
excepting that his hair was white; but when Sam saw him he was grieved:

His hair was white as goose's wing,
His cheek was like the rose of spring
His form was straight as cypress tree--
But when the sire was brought to see
That child with hair so silvery white,
His heart revolted at the sight.

His mother gave him the name of Zal and the people said to Sam, "This is
an ominous event, and will be to thee productive of nothing but
calamity; it would be better if thou couldst remove him out of sight.

"No human being of this earth
Could give to such a monster birth;
He must be of the Demon race,
Though human still in form and face.
If not a Demon, he, at least,
Appears a party-coloured beast."

When Sam was made acquainted with these reproaches and sneers of the
people, he determined, though with a sorrowful heart, to take him up to
the mountain Alberz, and abandon him there to be destroyed by beasts of
prey. Alberz was the abode of the Simurgh or Griffin,[4] and, whilst
flying about in quest of food for his hungry young ones, that surprising
animal discovered the child lying alone upon the hard rock, crying and
sucking its fingers. The Simurgh, however, felt no inclination to devour
him, but compassionately took him up in the air, and conveyed him to his
own habitation.

He who is blest with Heaven's grace
Will never want a dwelling-place
And he who bears the curse of Fate
Can never change his wretched state.
A voice, not earthly, thus addressed
The Simurgh in his mountain nest--
"To thee this mortal I resign,
Protected by the power divine;
Let him thy fostering kindness share,
Nourish him with paternal care;
For from his loins, in time, will spring
The champion of the world, and bring
Honour on earth, and to thy name;
The heir of everlasting fame."

The young ones were also kind and affectionate to the infant, which was
thus nourished and protected by the Simurgh for several years.

THE DREAM OF SAM

It is said that one night, after melancholy musings and reflecting on
the miseries of this life, Sam was visited by a dream, and when the
particulars of it were communicated to the interpreters of mysterious
warnings and omens, they declared that Zal was certainly still alive,
although he had been long exposed on Alberz, and left there to be torn
to pieces by wild animals. Upon this interpretation being given, the
natural feelings of the father returned, and he sent his people to the
mountain in search of Zal, but without success. On another night Sam
dreamt a second time, when he beheld a young man of a beautiful
countenance at the head of an immense army, with a banner flying before
him, and a Mubid on his left hand. One of them addressed Sam, and
reproached him thus:--

Unfeeling mortal, hast thou from thy eyes
Washed out all sense of shame? Dost thou believe
That to have silvery tresses is a crime?
If so, thy head is covered with white hair;
And were not both spontaneous gifts from Heaven?
Although the boy was hateful to thy sight,
The grace of God has been bestowed upon him;
And what is human tenderness and love
To Heaven's protection? Thou to him wert cruel,
But Heaven has blest him, shielding him from harm.

Sam screamed aloud in his sleep, and awoke greatly terrified. Without
delay he went himself to Alberz, and ascended the mountain, and wept and
prayed before the throne of the Almighty, saying:--

"If that forsaken child be truly mine,
And not the progeny of Demon fell,
O pity me! forgive the wicked deed,
And to my eyes, my injured son restore."

His prayer was accepted. The Simurgh, hearing the lamentations of Sam
among his people, knew that he had come in quest of his son, and thus
said to Zal:--"I have fed and protected thee like a kind nurse, and I
have given thee the name of Dustan, like a father. Sam, the warrior, has
just come upon the mountain in search of his child, and I must restore
thee to him, and we must part." Zal wept when he heard of this
unexpected separation, and in strong terms expressed his gratitude to
his benefactor; for the Wonderful Bird had not omitted to teach him the
language of the country, and to cultivate his understanding, removed as
they were to such a distance from the haunts of mankind. The Simurgh
soothed him by assuring him that he was not going to abandon him to
misfortune, but to increase his prosperity; and, as a striking proof of
affection, gave him a feather from his own wing, with these
instructions:--"Whenever thou art involved in difficulty or danger, put
this feather on the fire, and I will instantly appear to thee to ensure
thy safety. Never cease to remember me.

"I have watched thee with fondness by day and by night,
And supplied all thy wants with a father's delight;
O forget not thy nurse--still be faithful to me--
And my heart will be ever devoted to thee."

Zal immediately replied in a strain of gratitude and admiration; and
then the Simurgh conveyed him to Sam, and said to him: "Receive thy
son--he is of wonderful promise, and will be worthy of the throne and
the diadem."

The soul of Sam rejoiced to hear
Applause so sweet to a parent's ear;
And blessed them both in thought and word,
The lovely boy, and the Wondrous Bird.

He also declared to Zal that he was ashamed of the crime of which he had
been guilty, and that he would endeavor to obliterate the recollection
of the past by treating him in future with the utmost respect and honor.

When Minuchihr heard from Zabul of these things, and of Sam's return, he
was exceedingly pleased, and ordered his son, Nauder, with a splendid
istakbal,[5] to meet the father and son on their approach to the city.
They were surrounded by warriors and great men, and Sam embraced the
first moment to introduce Zal to the king.

Zal humbly kissed the earth before the king,
And from the hands of Minuchihr received
A golden mace and helm. Then those who knew
The stars and planetary signs, were told
To calculate the stripling's destiny;
And all proclaimed him of exalted fortune,
That he would be prodigious in his might,
Outshining every warrior of the age.

Delighted with this information, Minuchihr, seated upon his throne, with
Karun on one side and Sam on the other, presented Zal with Arabian
horses, and armor, and gold, and splendid garments, and appointed Sam to
the government of Kabul, Zabul, and Ind. Zal accompanied his father on
his return; and when they arrived at Zabulistan, the most renowned
instructors in every art and science were collected together to
cultivate and enrich his young mind.

In the meantime Sam was commanded by the king to invade and subdue the
Demon provinces of Karugsar and Mazinderan;[6] and Zal was in
consequence left by his father in charge of Zabulistan. The young
nursling of the Simurgh is said to have performed the duties of
sovereignty with admirable wisdom and discretion, during the absence of
his father. He did not pass his time in idle exercises, but with zealous
delight in the society of accomplished and learned men, for the purpose
of becoming familiar with every species of knowledge and acquirement.
The city of Zabul, however, as a constant residence, did not entirely
satisfy him, and he wished to see more of the world; he therefore
visited several other places, and proceeded as far as Kabul, where he
pitched his tents, and remained for some time.

RUDABEH

The chief of Kabul was descended from the family of Zohak. He was named
Mihrab, and to secure the safety of his state, paid annual tribute to
Sam. Mihrab, on the arrival of Zal, went out of the city to see him, and
was hospitably entertained by the young hero, who soon discovered that
he had a daughter of wonderful attractions.

Her name Rudabeh; screened from public view,
Her countenance is brilliant as the sun;
From head to foot her lovely form is fair
As polished ivory. Like the spring, her cheek
Presents a radiant bloom,--in stature tall,
And o'er her silvery brightness, richly flow
Dark musky ringlets clustering to her feet.
She blushes like the rich pomegranate flower;
Her eyes are soft and sweet as the narcissus,
Her lashes from the raven's jetty plume
Have stolen their blackness, and her brows are bent
Like archer's bow. Ask ye to see the moon?
Look at her face. Seek ye for musky fragrance?
She is all sweetness. Her long fingers seem
Pencils of silver, and so beautiful
Her presence, that she breathes of Heaven and love.

Such was the description of Rudabeh, which inspired the heart of Zal
with the most violent affection, and imagination added to her charms.

Mihrab again waited on Zal, who received him graciously, and asked him
in what manner he could promote his wishes. Mihrab said that he only
desired him to become his guest at a banquet he intended to invite him
to; but Zal thought proper to refuse, because he well knew, if he
accepted an invitation of the kind from a relation of Zohak, that his
father Sam and the King of Persia would be offended. Mihrab returned to
Kabul disappointed, and having gone into his harem, his wife, Sindokht,
inquired after the stranger from Zabul, the white-headed son of Sam. She
wished to know what he was like, in form and feature, and what account
he gave of his sojourn with the Simurgh. Mihrab described him in the
warmest terms of admiration--he was valiant, he said, accomplished and
handsome, with no other defect than that of white hair. And so boundless
was his praise, that Rudabeh, who was present, drank every word with
avidity, and felt her own heart warmed into admiration and love. Full of
emotion, she afterwards said privately to her attendants:

"To you alone the secret of my heart
I now unfold; to you alone confess
The deep sensations of my captive soul.
I love, I love; all day and night of him
I think alone--I see him in my dreams--
You only know my secret--aid me now,
And soothe the sorrows of my bursting heart."

The attendants were startled with this confession and entreaty, and
ventured to remonstrate against so preposterous an attachment.

"What! hast thou lost all sense of shame,
All value for thy honored name!
That thou, in loveliness supreme,
Of every tongue the constant theme,
Should choose, and on another's word.
The nursling of a Mountain Bird!
A being never seen before,
Which human mother never bore!
And can the hoary locks of age,
A youthful heart like thine engage?
Must thy enchanting form be prest
To such a dubious monster's breast?
And all thy beauty's rich array,
Thy peerless charms be thrown away?"

This violent remonstrance was more calculated to rouse the indignation
of Rudabeh than to induce her to change her mind. It did so. But she
subdued her resentment, and again dwelt upon the ardor of her passion.

"My attachment is fixed, my election is made,
And when hearts are enchained 'tis in vain to upbraid.
Neither Kizar nor Faghfur I wish to behold,
Nor the monarch of Persia with jewels and gold;
All, all I despise, save the choice of my heart,
And from his beloved image I never can part.
Call him aged, or young, 'tis a fruitless endeavour
To uproot a desire I must cherish for ever;
Call him old, call him young, who can passion control?
Ever present, and loved, he entrances my soul.
'Tis for him I exist--him I worship alone,
And my heart it must bleed till I call him my own."

As soon as the attendants found that Rudabeh's attachment was deeply
fixed, and not to be removed, they changed their purpose, and became
obedient to her wishes, anxious to pursue any measure that might bring
Zal and their mistress together. Rudabeh was delighted with this proof
of their regard.

It was spring-time, and the attendants repaired towards the
halting-place of Zal, in the neighborhood of the city. Their occupation
seemed to be gathering roses along the romantic banks of a pellucid
streamlet, and when they purposely strayed opposite the tent of Zal, he
observed them, and asked his friends--why they presumed to gather roses
in his garden. He was told that they were damsels sent by the moon of
Kabulistan from the palace of Mihrab to gather roses, and upon hearing
this his heart was touched with emotion. He rose up and rambled about
for amusement, keeping the direction of the river, followed by a servant
with a bow. He was not far from the damsels, when a bird sprung up from
the water, which he shot, upon the wing, with an arrow. The bird
happened to fall near the rose-gatherers, and Zal ordered his servant to
bring it to him. The attendants of Rudabeh lost not the opportunity, as
he approached them, to inquire who the archer was. "Know ye not,"
answered the servant, "that this is Nim-ruz, the son of Sam, and also
called Dustan, the greatest warrior ever known." At this the damsels
smiled, and said that they too belonged to a person of distinction--and
not of inferior worth--to a star in the palace of Mihrab. "We have come
from Kabul to the King of Zabulistan, and should Zal and Rudabeh be of
equal rank, her ruby lips may become acquainted with his, and their
wished-for union be effected." When the servant returned, Zal was
immediately informed of the conversation that had taken place, and in
consequence presents were prepared.

They who to gather roses came--went back
With precious gems--and honorary robes;
And two bright finger-rings were secretly
Sent to the princess.

Then did the attendants of Rudabeh exult in the success of their
artifice, and say that the lion had come into their toils. Rudabeh
herself, however, had some fears on the subject. She anxiously sought to
know exactly the personal appearance of Zal, and happily her warmest
hopes were realized by the description she received. But one difficulty
remained--how were they to meet? How was she to see with her own eyes
the man whom her fancy had depicted in such glowing colors? Her
attendants, sufficiently expert at intrigue, soon contrived the means of
gratifying her wishes. There was a beautiful rural retreat in a
sequestered situation, the apartments of which were adorned with
pictures of great men, and ornamented in the most splendid manner. To
this favorite place Rudabeh retired, and most magnificently dressed,
awaiting the coming of Zal, whom her attendants had previously invited
to repair thither as soon as the sun had gone down. The shadows of
evening were falling as he approached, and the enamoured princess thus
addressed him from her balcony:--

"May happiness attend thee ever, thou,
Whose lucid features make this gloomy night
Clear as the day; whose perfume scents the breeze;
Thou who, regardless of fatigue, hast come
On foot too, thus to see me--"

Hearing a sweet voice, he looked up, and beheld a bright face in the
balcony, and he said to the beautiful vision:--

"How often have I hoped that Heaven
Would, in some secret place display
Thy charms to me, and thou hast given
My heart the wish of many a day;
For now thy gentle voice I hear,
And now I see thee--speak again!
Speak freely in a willing ear,
And every wish thou hast obtain."

Not a word was lost upon Rudabeh, and she soon accomplished her object.
Her hair was so luxuriant, and of such a length, that casting it loose
it flowed down from the balcony; and, after fastening the upper part to
a ring, she requested Zal to take hold of the other end and mount up. He
ardently kissed the musky tresses, and by them quickly ascended.

Then hand in hand within the chambers they
Gracefully passed.--Attractive was the scene,
The walls embellished by the painter's skill,
And every object exquisitely formed,
Sculpture, and architectural ornament,
Fit for a king. Zal with amazement gazed
Upon what art had done, but more he gazed
Upon the witching radiance of his love,
Upon her tulip cheeks, her musky locks,
Breathing the sweetness of a summer garden;
Upon the sparkling brightness of her rings,
Necklace, and bracelets, glittering on her arms.
His mien too was majestic--on his head
He wore a ruby crown, and near his breast
Was seen a belted dagger. Fondly she
With side-long glances marked his noble aspect,
The fine proportions of his graceful limbs,
His strength and beauty. Her enamoured heart
Suffused her cheek with blushes, every glance
Increased the ardent transports of her soul.
So mild was his demeanour, he appeared
A gentle lion toying with his prey.
Long they remained rapt in admiration
Of each other. At length the warrior rose,
And thus addressed her: "It becomes not us
To be forgetful of the path of prudence,
Though love would dictate a more ardent course,
How oft has Sam, my father, counselled me,
Against unseeming thoughts,--unseemly deeds,--
Always to choose the right, and shun the wrong.
How will he burn with anger when he hears
This new adventure; how will Minuchihr
Indignantly reproach me for this dream!
This waking dream of rapture! but I call
High Heaven to witness what I now declare--
Whoever may oppose my sacred vows,
I still am thine, affianced thine, for ever."

And thus Rudabeh: "Thou hast won my heart,
And kings may sue in vain; to thee devoted,
Thou art alone my warrior and my love."
Thus they exclaimed,--then Zal with fond adieus
Softly descended from the balcony,
And hastened to his tent.

As speedily as possible he assembled together his counsellors and Mubids
to obtain their advice on the present extraordinary occasion, and he
represented to them the sacred importance of encouraging matrimonial
alliances.

For marriage is a contract sealed by Heaven--
How happy is the Warrior's lot, amidst
His smiling children; when he dies, his son
Succeeds him, and enjoys his rank and name.
And is it not a glorious thing to say--
This is the son of Zal, or this of Sam,
The heir of his renowned progenitor?

He then related to them the story of his love and affection for the
daughter of Mihrab; but the Mubids, well knowing that the chief of Kabul
was of the family of Zohak, the serpent-king, did not approve the union
desired, which excited the indignation of Zal. They, however,
recommended his writing a letter to Sam, who might, if he thought
proper, refer the matter to Minuchihr. The letter was accordingly
written and despatched, and when Sam received it, he immediately
referred the question to his astrologers, to know whether the nuptials,
if solemnized between Zal and Rudabeh, would be prosperous or not. They
foretold that the nuptials would be prosperous, and that the issue would
be a son of wonderful strength and power, the conqueror of the world.
This announcement delighted the heart of the old warrior, and he sent
the messenger back with the assurance of his approbation of the proposed
union, but requested that the subject might be kept concealed till he
returned with his army from the expedition to Karugsar, and was able to
consult with Minuchihr.

Zal, exulting at his success, communicated the glad tidings to Rudabeh
by their female emissary, who had hitherto carried on successfully the
correspondence between them. But as she was conveying an answer to this
welcome news, and some presents to Zal, Sindokht, the mother of Rudabeh,
detected her, and, examining the contents of the packet, she found
sufficient evidence, she thought, of something wrong.

"What treachery is this? What have we here!
Sirbund and male attire? Thou, wretch, confess!
Disclose thy secret doings."

The emissary, however, betrayed nothing; but declared that she was a
dealer in jewels and dresses, and had been only showing her merchandise
to Rudabeh. Sindokht, in extreme agitation of mind, hastened to her
daughter's apartment to ascertain the particulars of this affair, when
Rudabeh at once fearlessly acknowledged her unalterable affection for
Zal,

"I love him so devotedly, all day,
All night my tears have flowed unceasingly;
And one hair of his head I prize more dearly
Than all the world beside; for him I live;
And we have met, and we have sat together,
And pledged our mutual love with mutual joy
And innocence of heart."

Rudabeh further informed her of Sam's consent to their nuptials, which
in some degree satisfied the mother. But when Mihrab was made acquainted
with the arrangement, his rage was unbounded, for he dreaded the
resentment of Sam and Minuchihr when the circumstances became fully
known to them. Trembling with indignation he drew his dagger, and would
have instantly rushed to Rudabeh's chamber to destroy her, had not
Sindokht fallen at his feet and restrained him. He insisted, however, on
her being brought before him; and upon his promise not to do her any
harm, Sindokht complied. Rudabeh disdained to take off her ornaments to
appear as an offender and a supplicant, but, proud of her choice, went
into her father's presence, gayly adorned with jewels, and in splendid
apparel. Mihrab received her with surprise.

"Why all this glittering finery? Is the devil
United to an angel? When a snake
Is met with in Arabia, it is killed!"

But Rudabeh answered not a word, and was permitted to retire with her
mother.

When Minuchihr was apprised of the proceedings between Zal and Rudabeh,
he was deeply concerned, anticipating nothing but confusion and ruin to
Persia from the united influence of Zal and Mihrab. Feridun had purified
the world from the abominations of Zohak, and as Mihrab was a descendant
of that merciless tyrant, he feared that some attempt would be made to
resume the enormities of former times; Sam was therefore required to
give his advice on the occasion.

The conqueror of Karugsar and Mazinderan was received on his return with
cordial rejoicings, and he charmed the king with the story of his
triumphant success. The monarch against whom he had fought was
descended, on the mother's side, from Zohak, and his Demon army was more
numerous than ants, or clouds of locusts, covering mountain and plain.
Sam thus proceeded in his description of the conflict.

"And when he heard my voice, and saw what deeds
I had performed, approaching me, he threw
His noose; but downward bending I escaped,
And with my bow I showered upon his head
Steel-pointed arrows, piercing through the brain;
Then did I grasp his loins, and from his horse
Cast him upon the ground, deprived of life.
At this, the demons terrified and pale,
Shrunk back, some flying to the mountain wilds,
And others, taken on the battle-field,
Became obedient to the Persian king."

Minuchihr, gratified by this result of the expedition, appointed Sam to
a new enterprise, which was to destroy Kabul by fire and sword,
especially the house of Mihrab; and that ruler, of the serpent-race, and
all his adherents were to be put to death. Sam, before he took leave to
return to his own government at Zabul, tried to dissuade him from this
violent exercise of revenge, but without making any sensible impression
upon him.

Meanwhile the vindictive intentions of Minuchihr, which were soon known
at Kabul, produced the greatest alarm and consternation in the family of
Mihrab. Zal now returned to his father, and Sam sent a letter to
Minuchihr, again to deprecate his wrath, and appointed Zal the
messenger. In this letter Sam enumerates his services at Karugsar and
Mazinderan, and especially dwells upon the destruction of a prodigious
dragon.

"I am thy servant, and twice sixty years
Have seen my prowess. Mounted on my steed,
Wielding my battle-axe, overthrowing heroes,
Who equals Sam, the warrior? I destroyed
The mighty monster, whose devouring jaws
Unpeopled half the land, and spread dismay
From town to town. The world was full of horror,
No bird was seen in air, no beast of prey
In plain or forest; from the stream he drew
The crocodile; the eagle from the sky.
The country had no habitant alive,
And when I found no human being left,
I cast away all fear, and girt my loins,
And in the name of God went boldly forth,
Armed for the strife. I saw him towering rise,
Huge as a mountain, with his hideous hair
Dragging upon the ground; his long black tongue
Shut up the path; his eyes two lakes of blood;
And, seeing me, so horrible his roar,
The earth shook with affright, and from his mouth
A flood of poison issued. Like a lion
Forward I sprang, and in a moment drove
A diamond-pointed arrow through his tongue,
Fixing him to the ground. Another went
Down his deep throat, and dreadfully he writhed.
A third passed through his middle. Then I raised
My battle-axe, cow-headed, and with one
Tremendous blow, dislodged his venomous brain,
And deluged all around with blood and poison.
There lay the monster dead, and soon the world
Regained its peace and comfort. Now I'm old,
The vigour of my youth is past and gone,
And it becomes me to resign my station,
To Zal, my gallant son."

Mihrab continued in such extreme agitation, that in his own mind he saw
no means of avoiding the threatened desolation of his country but by
putting his wife and daughter to death. Sindokht however had a better
resource, and suggested the expediency of waiting upon Sam herself, to
induce him to forward her own views and the nuptials between Zal and
Rudabeh. To this Mihrab assented, and she proceeded, mounted on a richly
caparisoned horse, to Zabul with most magnificent presents, consisting
of three hundred thousand dinars; ten horses with golden, and thirty
with silver, housings; sixty richly attired damsels, carrying golden
trays of jewels and musk, and camphor, and wine, and sugar; forty pieces
of figured cloth; a hundred milch camels, and a hundred others for
burden; two hundred Indian swords, a golden crown and throne, and four
elephants. Sam was amazed and embarrassed by the arrival of this
splendid array. If he accepted the presents, he would incur the anger of
Minuchihr; and if he rejected them, Zal would be disappointed and driven
to despair. He at length accepted them, and concurred in the wishes of
Sindokht respecting the union of the two lovers.

When Zal arrived at the court of Minuchihr, he was received with honor,
and the letter of Sam being read, the king was prevailed upon to consent
to the pacific proposals that were made in favor of Mihrab, and the
nuptials. He too consulted his astrologers, and was informed that the
offspring of Zal and Rudabeh would be a hero of matchless strength and
valor. Zal, on his return through Kabul, had an interview with Rudabeh,
who welcomed him in the most rapturous terms:--

Be thou for ever blest, for I adore thee,
And make the dust of thy fair feet my pillow.

In short, with the approbation of all parties the marriage at length
took place, and was celebrated at the beautiful summer-house where first
the lovers met. Sam was present at Kabul on the happy occasion, and soon
afterwards returned to Sistan, preparatory to resuming his martial
labors in Karugsar and Mazinderan.

As the time drew near that Rudabeh should become a mother, she suffered
extremely from constant indisposition, and both Zal and Sindokht were in
the deepest distress on account of her precarious state.

The cypress leaf was withering; pale she lay,
Unsoothed by rest or sleep, death seemed approaching.

At last Zal recollected the feather of the Simurgh, and followed the
instructions which he had received, by placing it on the fire. In a
moment darkness surrounded them, which was, however, immediately
dispersed by the sudden appearance of the Simurgh. "Why," said the
Simurgh, "do I see all this grief and sorrow? Why are the tear-drops in
the warrior's eyes? A child will be born of mighty power, who will
become the wonder of the world."

The Simurgh then gave some advice which was implicitly attended to, and
the result was that Rudabeh was soon out of danger. Never was beheld so
prodigious a child. The father and mother were equally amazed. They
called the boy Rustem. On the first day he looked a year old, and he
required the milk of ten nurses. A likeness of him was immediately
worked in silk, representing him upon a horse, and armed like a warrior,
which was sent to Sam, who was then fighting in Mazinderan, and it made
the old champion almost delirious with joy. At Kabul and Zabul there was
nothing but feasting and rejoicing, as soon as the tidings were known,
and thousands of dinars were given away in charity to the poor. When
Rustem was five years of age, he ate as much as a man, and some say that
even in his third year he rode on horseback. In his eighth year he was
as powerful as any hero of the time.

In beauty of form and in vigour of limb,
No mortal was ever seen equal to him.

Both Sam and Mihrab, though far distant from the scene of felicity, were
equally anxious to proceed to Zabulistan to behold their wonderful
grandson. Both set off, but Mihrab arrived first with great pomp, and a
whole army for his suite, and went forth with Zal to meet Sam, and give
him an honorable welcome. The boy Rustem was mounted on an elephant,
wearing a splendid crown, and wanted to join them, but his father kindly
prevented him undergoing the inconvenience of alighting. Zal and Mihrab
dismounted as soon as Sam was seen at a distance, and performed the
ceremonies of an affectionate reception. Sam was indeed amazed when he
did see the boy, and showered blessings on his head.

Afterwards Sam placed Mihrab on his right hand, and Zal on his left, and
Rustem before him, and began to converse with his grandson, who thus
manifested to him his martial disposition.

"Thou art the champion of the world, and I
The branch of that fair tree of which thou art
The glorious root: to thee I am devoted,
But ease and leisure have no charms for me;
Nor music, nor the songs of festive joy.
Mounted and armed, a helmet on my brow,
A javelin in my grasp, I long to meet
The foe, and cast his severed head before thee."

Then Sam made a royal feast, and every apartment in his palace was
richly decorated, and resounded with mirth and rejoicing. Mihrab was the
merriest, and drank the most, and in his cups saw nothing but himself,
so vain had he become from the countenance he had received. He kept
saying:--

"Now I feel no alarm about Sam or Zal-zer,
Nor the splendour and power of the great Minuchihr;
Whilst aided by Rustem, his sword, and his mace,
Not a cloud of misfortune can shadow my face.
All the laws of Zohak I will quickly restore,
And the world shall be fragrant and blest as before."

This exultation plainly betrayed the disposition of his race; and though
Sam smiled at the extravagance of Mihrab, he looked up towards Heaven,
and prayed that Rustem might not prove a tyrant, but be continually
active in doing good, and humble before God.

Upon Sam departing, on his return to Karugsar and Mazinderan, Zal went
with Rustem to Sistan, a province dependent on his government, and
settled him there. The white elephant, belonging to Minuchihr, was kept
at Sistan. One night Rustem was awakened out of his sleep by a great
noise, and cries of distress when starting up and inquiring the cause,
he was told that the white elephant had got loose, and was trampling and
crushing the people to death. In a moment he issued from his apartment,
brandishing his mace; but was soon stopped by the servants, who were
anxious to expostulate with him against venturing out in the darkness of
night to encounter a ferocious elephant. Impatient at being thus
interrupted he knocked down one of the watchmen, who fell dead at his
feet, and the others running away, he broke the lock of the gate, and
escaped. He immediately opposed himself to the enormous animal, which
looked like a mountain, and kept roaring like the River Nil. Regarding
him with a cautious and steady eye, he gave a loud shout, and fearlessly
struck him a blow, with such strength and vigor, that the iron mace was
bent almost double. The elephant trembled, and soon fell exhausted and
lifeless in the dust. When it was communicated to Zal that Rustem had
killed the animal with one blow, he was amazed, and fervently returned
thanks to heaven. He called him to him, and kissed him, and said: "My
darling boy, thou art indeed unequalled in valor and magnanimity."

Then it occurred to Zal that Rustem, after such an achievement, would be
a proper person to take vengeance on the enemies of his grandfather
Nariman, who was sent by Feridun with a large army against an enchanted
fort situated upon the mountain Sipund, and who whilst endeavoring to
effect his object, was killed by a piece of rock thrown down from above
by the besieged. The fort[7], which was many miles high, inclosed
beautiful lawns of the freshest verdure, and delightful gardens
abounding with fruit and flowers; it was also full of treasure. Sam, on
hearing of the fate of his father, was deeply afflicted, and in a short
time proceeded against the fort himself; but he was surrounded by a
trackless desert. He knew not what course to pursue; not a being was
ever seen to enter or come out of the gates, and, after spending months
and years in fruitless endeavors, he was compelled to retire from the
appalling enterprise in despair. "Now," said Zal to Rustem, "the time is
come, and the remedy is at hand; thou art yet unknown, and may easily
accomplish our purpose." Rustem agreed to the proposed adventure, and
according to his father's advice, assumed the dress and character of a
salt-merchant, prepared a caravan of camels, and secreted arms for
himself and companions among the loads of salt. Everything being ready
they set off, and it was not long before they reached the fort on the
mountain Sipund. Salt being a precious article, and much wanted, as soon
as the garrison knew that it was for sale, the gates were opened; and
then was Rustem seen, together with his warriors, surrounded by men,
women, and children, anxiously making their purchases, some giving
clothes in exchange, some gold, and some silver, without fear or
suspicion.

But when the night came on, and it was dark,
Rustem impatient drew his warriors forth,
And moved towards the mansion of the chief--
But not unheard. The unaccustomed noise,
Announcing warlike menace and attack,
Awoke the Kotwal, who sprung up to meet
The peril threatened by the invading foe.
Rustem meanwhile uplifts his ponderous mace,
And cleaves his head, and scatters on the ground
The reeking brains. And now the garrison
Are on the alert, all hastening to the spot
Where battle rages; midst the deepened gloom
Flash sparkling swords, which show the crimson earth
Bright as the ruby.

Rustem continued fighting with the people of the fort all night, and
just as morning dawned, he discovered the chief and slew him. Those who
survived, then escaped, and not one of the inhabitants remained within
the walls alive. Rustem's next object was to enter the governor's
mansion. It was built of stone, and the gate, which was made of iron, he
burst open with his battle-axe, and advancing onward, he discovered a
temple, constructed with infinite skill and science, beyond the power of
mortal man, and which contained amazing wealth, in jewels and gold. All
the warriors gathered for themselves as much treasure as they could
carry away, and more than imagination can conceive; and Rustem wrote to
Zal to know his further commands on the subject of the capture. Zal,
overjoyed at the result of the enterprise, replied:

Thou hast illumed the soul of Nariman,
Now in the blissful bowers of Paradise,
By punishing his foes with fire and sword.

He then recommended him to load all the camels with as much of the
invaluable property as could be removed, and bring it away, and then
burn and destroy the whole place, leaving not a single vestige; and the
command having been strictly complied with, Rustem retraced his steps to
Zabulistan.

On his return Zal pressed him to his heart,
And paid him public honors. The fond mother
Kissed and embraced her darling son, and all
Uniting, showered their blessings on his head.

DEATH OF MINUCHIHR

To Minuchihr we now must turn again,
And mark the close of his illustrious reign.

The king had flourished one hundred and twenty years, when now the
astrologers ascertained that the period of his departure from this life
was at hand.

They told him of that day of bitterness,
Which would obscure the splendour of his throne;
And said--"The time approaches, thou must go,
Doubtless to Heaven. Think what thou hast to do;
And be it done before the damp cold earth
Inshrine thy body. Let not sudden death
O'ertake thee, ere thou art prepared to die!"
Warned by the wise, he called his courtiers round him,
And thus he counselled Nauder:--"O, my son!
Fix not thy heart upon a regal crown,
For this vain world is fleeting as the wind;
The pain and sorrows of twice sixty years
Have I endured, though happiness and joy
Have also been my portion. I have fought
In many a battle, vanquished many a foe;
By Feridun's commands I girt my loins,
And his advice has ever been my guide.
I hurled just vengeance on the tyrant-brothers
Silim and Tur, who slew the gentle Irij;
And cities have I built, and made the tree
Which yielded poison, teem with wholesome fruit.
And now to thee the kingdom I resign,
That kingdom which belonged to Feridun,
And thou wilt be the sovereign of the world!
But turn not from the worship of thy God,
That sacred worship Moses taught, the best
Of all the prophets; turn not from the path
Of purest holiness, thy father's choice.

"My son, events of peril are before thee;
Thy enemy will come in fierce array,
From the wild mountains of Turan, the son
Of Poshang, the invader. In that hour
Of danger, seek the aid of Sam and Zal,
And that young branch just blossoming; Turan
Will then have no safe buckler of defence,
None to protect it from their conquering arms."

Thus spoke the sire prophetic to his son,
And both were moved to tears. Again the king
Resumed his warning voice: "Nauder, I charge thee
Place not thy trust upon a world like this,
Where nothing fixed remains. The caravan
Goes to another city, one to-day,
The next, to-morrow, each observes its turn
And time appointed--mine has come at last,
And I must travel on the destined road."

At the period Minuchihr uttered this exhortation, he was entirely free
from indisposition, but he shortly afterwards closed his eyes in death.

NAUDER

Upon the demise of Minuchihr, Nauder ascended the throne, and commenced
his reign in the most promising manner; but before two months had
passed, he neglected the counsels of his father, and betrayed the
despotic character of his heart. To such an extreme did he carry his
oppression, that to escape from his violence, the people were induced to
solicit other princes to come and take possession of the empire. The
courtiers labored under the greatest embarrassment, their monarch being
solely occupied in extorting money from his subjects, and amassing
wealth for his own coffers. Nauder was not long in perceiving the
dissatisfaction that universally prevailed, and, anticipating, not only
an immediate revolt, but an invading army, solicited, according to his
father's advice, the assistance of Sam, then at Mazinderan. The
complaints of the people, however, reached Sam before the arrival of the
messenger, and when he received the letter, he was greatly distressed on
account of the extreme severity exercised by the new king. The champion,
in consequence, proceeded forthwith from Mazinderan to Persia, and when
he entered the capital, he was joyously welcomed, and at once entreated
by the people to take the sovereignty upon himself. It was said of
Nauder:

The gloom of tyranny has hid
The light his father's counsel gave;
The hope of life is lost amid
The desolation of the grave.
The world is withering in his thrall,
Exhausted by his iron sway;
Do thou ascend the throne, and all
Will cheerfully thy will obey.

But Sam said, "No; I should then be ungrateful to Minuchihr, a traitor,
and deservedly offensive in the eyes of God. Nauder is the king, and I
am bound to do him service, although he has deplorably departed from the
advice of his father." He then soothed the alarm and irritation of the
chiefs, and engaging to be a mediator upon the unhappy occasion, brought
them to a more pacific tone of thinking. After this he immediately
repaired to Nauder, who received him with great favor and kindness. "O
king," said he, "only keep Feridun in remembrance, and govern the empire
in such a manner that thy name may be honored by thy subjects; for, be
well assured, that he who has a just estimate of the world, will never
look upon it as his place of rest. It is but an inn, where all
travellers meet on their way to eternity, but must not remain. The wise
consider those who fix their affections on this life, as utterly devoid
of reason and reflection:

"Pleasure, and pomp, and wealth may be obtained--
And every want luxuriously supplied:
But suddenly, without a moment's warning,
Death comes, and hurls the monarch from his throne,
His crown and sceptre scattering in the dust.
He who is satisfied with earthly joys,
Can never know the blessedness of Heaven;
His soul must still be dark. Why do the good
Suffer in this world, but to be prepared
For future rest and happiness? The name
Of Feridun is honoured among men,
Whilst curses load the memory of Zohak."

This intercession of Sam produced an entire change in the government of
Nauder, who promised, in future, to rule his people according to the
principles of Husheng, and Feridun, and Minuchihr. The chiefs and
captains of the army were, in consequence, contented, and the kingdom
reunited itself under his sway.

In the meantime, however, the news of the death of Minuchihr, together
with Nauder's injustice and seventy, and the disaffection of his people,
had reached Turan, of which country Poshang, a descendant from Tur, was
then the sovereign. Poshang, who had been unable to make a single
successful hostile movement during the life of Minuchihr, at once
conceived this to be a fit opportunity of taking revenge for the blood
of Silim and Tur, and every appearance seeming to be in his favor, he
called before him his heroic son Afrasiyab, and explained to him his
purpose and views. It was not difficult to inspire the youthful mind of
Afrasiyab with the sentiments he himself cherished, and a large army was
immediately collected to take the field against Nauder. Poshang was
proud of the chivalrous spirit and promptitude displayed by his son, who
is said to have been as strong as a lion, or an elephant, and whose
shadow extended miles. His tongue was like a bright sword, and his heart
as bounteous as the ocean, and his hands like the clouds when rain falls
to gladden the thirsty earth. Aghriras, the brother of Afrasiyab,
however, was not so precipitate. He cautioned his father to be prudent,
for though Persia could no longer boast of the presence of Minuchihr,
still the great warrior Sam, and Karun, and Garshasp, were living, and
Poshang had only to look at the result of the wars in which Silim and
Tur were involved, to be convinced that the existing conjuncture
required mature deliberation. "It would be better," said he, "not to
begin the contest at all, than to bring ruin and desolation on our own
country." Poshang, on the contrary, thought the time peculiarly fit and
inviting, and contended that, as Minuchihr took vengeance for the blood
of his grandfather, so ought Afrasiyab to take vengeance for his. "The
grandson," he said, "who refuses to do this act of justice, is unworthy
of his family. There is nothing to apprehend from the efforts of Nauder,
who is an inexperienced youth, nor from the valor of his warriors.
Afrasiyab is brave and powerful in war, and thou must accompany him and
share the glory." After this no further observation was offered, and the
martial preparations were completed.

AFRASIYAB MARCHES AGAINST NAUDER

The brazen drums on the elephants were sounded as the signal of
departure, and the army proceeded rapidly to its destination,
overshadowing the earth in its progress. Afrasiyab had penetrated as far
as the Jihun before Nauder was aware of his approach. Upon receiving
this intelligence of the activity of the enemy, the warriors of the
Persian army immediately moved in that direction, and on their arrival
at Dehstan, prepared for battle.

Afrasiyab despatched thirty thousand of his troops under the command of
Shimasas and Khazervan to Zabulistan, to act against Zal, having heard
on his march of the death of the illustrious Sam, and advanced himself
upon Dehstan with four hundred thousand soldiers, covering the ground
like swarms of ants and locusts. He soon discovered that Nauder's forces
did not exceed one hundred and forty thousand men, and wrote to Poshang,
his father, in high spirits, especially on account of not having to
contend against Sam, the warrior, and informed him that he had detached
Shimasas against Zabulistan. When the armies had approached to within
two leagues of each other, Barman, one of the Turanian chiefs, offered
to challenge any one of the enemy to single combat: but Aghriras
objected to it, not wishing that so valuable a hero should run the
hazard of discomfiture. At this Afrasiyab was very indignant and
directed Barman to follow the bent of his own inclinations.

"'Tis not for us to shrink from Persian foe,
Put on thy armour, and prepare thy bow."

Accordingly the challenge was given. Karun looked round, and the only
person who answered the call was the aged Kobad, his brother. Karun and
Kobad were both sons of Kavah, the blacksmith, and both leaders in the
Persian army. No persuasion could restrain Kobad from the unequal
conflict. He resisted all the entreaties of Karun, who said to him--

"O, should thy hoary locks be stained with blood,
Thy legions will be overwhelmed with grief,
And, in despair, decline the coming battle."
But what was the reply of brave Kobad?
"Brother, this body, this frail tenement,
Belongs to death. No living man has ever
Gone up to Heaven--for all are doomed to die.--
Some by the sword, the dagger, or the spear,
And some, devoured by roaring beasts of prey;
Some peacefully upon their beds, and others
Snatched suddenly from life, endure the lot
Ordained by the Creator. If I perish,
Does not my brother live, my noble brother,
To bury me beneath a warrior's tomb,
And bless my memory?"

Saying this, he rushed forward, and the two warriors met in desperate
conflict. The struggle lasted all day; at last Barman threw a stone at
his antagonist with such force, that Kobad in receiving the blow fell
lifeless from his horse. When Karun saw that his brother was slain, he
brought forward his whole army to be revenged for the death of Kobad.
Afrasiyab himself advanced to the charge, and the encounter was
dreadful. The soldiers who fell among the Turanians could not be
numbered, but the Persians lost fifty thousand men.

Loud neighed the steeds, and their resounding hoofs.
Shook the deep caverns of the earth; the dust
Rose up in clouds and hid the azure heavens--
Bright beamed the swords, and in that carnage wide,
Blood flowed like water. Night alone divided
The hostile armies.

When the battle ceased Karun fell back upon Dehstan, and communicated
his misfortune to Nauder, who lamented the loss of Kobad, even more than
that of Sam. In the morning Karun again took the field against
Afrasiyab, and the conflict was again terrible. Nauder boldly opposed
himself to the enemy, and singling out Afrasiyab, the two heroes fought
with great bravery till night again put an end to the engagement. The
Persian army had suffered most, and Nauder retired to his tent
disappointed, fatigued, and sorrowful. He then called to mind the words
of Minuchihr, and called for his two sons, Tus and Gustahem. With
melancholy forebodings he directed them to return to Iran, with his
shubistan, or domestic establishment, and take refuge on the mountain
Alberz, in the hope that some one of the race of Feridun might survive
the general ruin which seemed to be approaching.

The armies rested two days. On the third the reverberating noise of
drums and trumpets announced the recommencement of the battle. On the
Persian side Shahpur had been appointed in the room of Kobad, and Barman
and Shiwaz led the right and left of the Turanians under Afrasiyab.

From dawn to sunset, mountain, plain, and stream,
Were hid from view; the earth, beneath the tread
Of myriads, groaned; and when the javelins cast
Long shadows on the plain at even-tide,
The Tartar host had won the victory;
And many a Persian chief fell on that day:--
Shahpur himself was slain.

When Nauder and Karun saw the unfortunate result of the battle, they
again fell back upon Dehstan, and secured themselves in the fort.
Afrasiyab in the meantime despatched Karukhan to Iran, through the
desert, with a body of horsemen, for the purpose of intercepting and
capturing the shubistan of Nauder. As soon as Karun heard of this
expedition he was all on fire, and proposed to pursue the squadron under
Karukhan, and frustrate at once the object which the enemy had in view;
and though Nauder was unfavorable to this movement, Karun, supported by
several of the chiefs and a strong volunteer force, set off at midnight,
without permission, on this important enterprise. It was not long before
they reached the Duz-i-Suped, or white fort, of which Gustahem was the
governor, and falling in with Barman, who was also pushing forward to
Persia, Karun, in revenge for his brother Kobad, sought him out, and
dared him to single combat. He threw his javelin with such might, that
his antagonist was driven furiously from his horse; and then,
dismounting, he cut off his head, and hung it at his saddle-bow. After
this he attacked and defeated the Tartar troops, and continued his march
towards Iran.

Nauder having found that Karun had departed, immediately followed, and
Afrasiyab was not long in pursuing him. The Turanians at length came up
with Nauder, and attacked him with great vigor. The unfortunate king,
unable to parry the onset, fell into the hands of his enemies, together
with upwards of one thousand of his famous warriors.

Long fought they, Nauder and the Tartar-chief,
And the thick dust which rose from either host,
Darkened the rolling Heavens. Afrasiyab
Seized by the girdle-belt the Persian king,
And furious, dragged him from his foaming horse.
With him a thousand warriors, high in name,
Were taken on the field; and every legion,
Captured whilst flying from the victor's brand.

Such are the freaks of Fortune: friend and foe
Alternate wear the crown. The world itself
Is an ingenious juggler--every moment
Playing some novel trick; exalting one
In pomp and splendour, crushing down another,
As if in sport,--and death the end of all!

After the achievement of this victory Afrasiyab directed that Karun
should be pursued and attacked wherever he might be found; but when he
heard that he had hurried on for the protection of the shubistan, and
had conquered and slain Barman, he gnawed his hands with rage. The reign
of Nauder lasted only seven years. After him Afrasiyab was the master of
Persia.

AFRASIYAB

It has already been said that Shimasas and Khazervan were sent by
Afrasiyab with thirty thousand men against Kabul and Zabul, and when Zal
heard of this movement he forthwith united with Mihrab the chief of
Kabul, and having first collected a large army in Sistan, had a conflict
with the two Tartar generals.

Zal promptly donned himself in war attire,
And, mounted like a hero, to the field
Hastened, his soldiers frowning on their steeds.
Now Khazervan grasps his huge battle-axe,
And, his broad shield extending, at one blow
Shivers the mail of Zal, who calls aloud
As, like a lion, to the fight he springs,
Armed with his father's mace. Sternly he looks
And with the fury of a dragon, drives
The weapon through his adversary's head,
Staining the ground with streaks of blood, resembling
The waving stripes upon a tiger's back.

At this time Rustem was confined at home with the smallpox. Upon the
death of Khazervan, Shimasas thirsted to be revenged; but when Zal
meeting him raised his mace, and began to close, the chief became
alarmed and turned back, and all his squadrons followed his example.

Fled Shimasas, and all his fighting train,
Like herds by tempests scattered o'er the plain.

Zal set off in pursuit, and slew a great number of the enemy; but when
Afrasiyab was made acquainted with this defeat, he immediately released
Nauder from his fetters, and in his rage instantly deprived him of life.

He struck him and so deadly was the blow,
Breath left the body in a moment's space.

After this Afrasiyab turned his views towards Tus and Gustahem in the
hope of getting them into his hands; but as soon as they received
intimation of his object, the two brothers retired from Iran, and went
to Sistan to live under the protection of Zal. The champion received
them with due respect and honor. Karun also went, with all the warriors
and people who had been supported by Nauder, and co-operated with Zal,
who encouraged them with the hopes of future success. Zal, however,
considered that both Tus and Gustahem were still of a tender age--that a
monarch of extraordinary wisdom and energy was required to oppose
Afrasiyab--that he himself was not of the blood of the Kais, nor fit for
the duties of sovereignty, and, therefore, he turned his thoughts
towards Aghriras, the younger brother of Afrasiyab, distinguished as he
was for his valor, prudence, and humanity, and to whom Poshang, his
father, had given the government of Rai. To him Zal sent an envoy,
saying, that if he would proceed to Sistan, he should be supplied with
ample resources to place him on the throne of Persia; that by the
co-operation of Zal and all his warriors the conquest would be easy, and
that there would be no difficulty in destroying the power of Afrasiyab.
Aghriras accepted the offer, and immediately proceeded from his kingdom
of Rai towards Sistan. On his arrival at Babel, Afrasiyab heard of his
ambitious plans, and lost no time in assembling his army and marching to
arrest the progress of his brother. Aghriras, unable to sustain a
battle, had recourse to negotiation and a conference, in which Afrasiyab
said to him, "What rebellious conduct is this, of which thou art guilty?
Is not the country of Rai sufficient for thee, that thou art thus
aspiring to be a great king?" Aghriras replied: "Why reproach and insult
me thus? Art thou not ashamed to accuse another of rebellious conduct?

"Shame might have held thy tongue; reprove not me
In bitterness; God did not give thee power
To injure man, and surely not thy kin."
Afrasiyab, enraged at this reproof,
Replied by a foul deed--he grasped his sword,
And with remorseless fury slew his brother!

When intelligence of this cruel catastrophe came to Zal's ears, he
exclaimed: "Now indeed has the empire of Afrasiyab arrived at its
crisis:

"Yes, yes, the tyrant's throne is tottering now,
And past is all his glory."

Then Zal bound his loins in hostility against Afrasiyab, and gathering
together all his warriors, resolved upon taking revenge for the death of
Nauder, and expelling the tyrant from Persia. Neither Tus nor Gustahem
being yet capable of sustaining the cares and duties of the throne, his
anxiety was to obtain the assistance of some one of the race of Feridun.

These youths were for imperial rule unfit:
A king of royal lineage and worth
The state required, and none could he remember
Save Tahmasp's son, descended from the blood
Of Feridun.

ZAU

At the time when Silim and Tur were killed, Tahmasp, the son of Silim,
fled from the country and took refuge in an island, where he died, and
left a son named Zau. Zal sent Karun, the son of Kavah, attended by a
proper escort, with overtures to Zau, who readily complied, and was
under favorable circumstances seated upon the throne:

Speedily, in arms,
He led his troops to Persia, fought, and won
A kingdom, by his power and bravery--
And happy was the day when princely Zau
Was placed upon that throne of sovereignty;
All breathed their prayers upon his future reign,
And o'er his head (the customary rite)
Shower'd gold and jewels.

When he had subdued the country, he turned his arms against Afrasiyab,
who in consequence of losing the co-operation of the Persians, and not
being in a state to encounter a superior force, thought it prudent to
retreat, and return to his father. The reign of Zau lasted five years,
after which he died, and was succeeded by his son Garshasp.

GARSHASP

Garshasp, whilst in his minority, being unacquainted with the affairs of
government, abided in all things by the judgment and counsels of Zal.
When Afrasiyab arrived at Turan, his father was in great distress and
anger on account of the inhuman murder of Aghriras; and so exceedingly
did he grieve, that he would not endure his presence.

And when Afrasiyab returned, his sire,
Poshang, in grief, refused to see his face.
To him the day of happiness and joy
Had been obscured by the dark clouds of night;
And thus he said: "Why didst thou, why didst _thou_
In power supreme, without pretence of guilt,
With thy own hand his precious life destroy?
Why hast thou shed thy innocent brother's blood?
In this life thou art nothing now to me;
Away, I must not see thy face again."

Afrasiyab continued offensive and despicable in the mind of his father
till he heard that Garshasp was unequal to rule over Persia, and then
thinking he could turn the warlike spirit of Afrasiyab to advantage, he
forgave the crime of his son. He forthwith collected an immense army,
and sent him again to effect the conquest of Iran, under the pretext of
avenging the death of Silim and Tur.

Afrasiyab a mighty army raised,
And passing plain and river, mountain high,
And desert wild, filled all the Persian realm
With consternation, universal dread.

The chief authorities of the country applied to Zal as their only remedy
against the invasion of Afrasiyab.

They said to Zal, "How easy is the task
For thee to grasp the world--then, since thou canst
Afford us succour, yield the blessing now;
For, lo! the King Afrasiyab has come,
In all his power and overwhelming might."

Zal replied that he had on this occasion appointed Rustem to command the
army, and to oppose the invasion of Afrasiyab.

And thus the warrior Zal to Rustem spoke--
"Strong as an elephant thou art, my son,
Surpassing thy companions, and I now
Forewarn thee that a difficult emprize,
Hostile to ease or sleep, demands thy care.
'Tis true, of battles thou canst nothing know,
But what am I to do? This is no time
For banquetting, and yet thy lips still breathe
The scent of milk, a proof of infancy;
Thy heart pants after gladness and the sweet
Endearments of domestic life; can I
Then send thee to the war to cope with heroes
Burning with wrath and vengeance?" Rustem said--
"Mistake me not, I have no wish, not I,
For soft endearments, nor domestic life,
Nor home-felt joys. This chest, these nervous limbs,
Denote far other objects of pursuit,
Than a luxurious life of ease and pleasure."

Zal having taken great pains in the instruction of Rustem in warlike
exercises, and the rules of battle, found infinite aptitude in the boy,
and his activity and skill seemed to be superior to his own. He thanked
God for the comfort it gave him, and was glad. Then Rustem asked his
father for a suitable mace; and seeing the huge weapon which was borne
by the great Sam, he took it up, and it answered his purpose exactly.

When the young hero saw the mace of Sam
He smiled with pleasure, and his heart rejoiced;
And paying homage to his father Zal,
The champion of the age, asked for a steed
Of corresponding power, that he might use
That famous club with added force and vigor.

Zal showed him all the horses in his possession, and Rustem tried many,
but found not one of sufficient strength to suit him. At last his eyes
fell upon a mare followed by a foal of great promise, beauty, and
strength.

Seeing that foal, whose bright and glossy skin
Was dappled o'er, like blossoms of the rose
Upon a saffron lawn, Rustem prepared
His noose, and held it ready in his hand.

The groom recommended him to secure the foal, as it was the offspring of
Abresh, born of a Diw, or Demon, and called Rakush. The dam had killed
several persons who attempted to seize her young one.

Now Rustem flings the noose, and suddenly
Rakush secures. Meanwhile the furious mare
Attacks him, eager with her pointed teeth
To crush his brain--but, stunned by his loud cry,
She stops in wonder. Then with clenched hand
He smites her on the head and neck, and down
She tumbles, struggling in the pangs of death.

Rakush, however, though with the noose round his neck, was not so easily
subdued; but kept dragging and pulling Rustem, as if by a tether, and it
was a considerable time before the animal could be reduced to
subjection. At last, Rustem thanked Heaven that he had obtained the very
horse he wanted.

"Now am I with my horse prepared to join
The field of warriors!" Thus the hero said,
And placed the saddle on his charger. Zal
Beheld him with delight,--his withered heart
Glowing with summer freshness. Open then
He threw his treasury--thoughtless of the past
Or future--present joy absorbing all
His faculties, and thrilling every nerve.

In a short time Zal sent Rustem with a prodigious army against
Afrasiyab, and two days afterwards set off himself and joined his son.
Afrasiyab said, "The son is but a boy, and the father is old; I shall
have no difficulty in recovering the empire of Persia." These
observations having reached Zal, he pondered deeply, considering that
Garshasp would not be able to contend against Afrasiyab, and that no
other prince of the race of Feridun was known to be in existence.
However, he despatched people in every quarter to gather information on
the subject, and at length Kai-kobad was understood to be residing in
obscurity on the mountain Alberz, distinguished for his wisdom and
valor, and his qualifications for the exercise of sovereign power. Zal
therefore recommended Rustem to proceed to Alberz, and bring him from
his concealment.

Thus Zal to Rustem spoke, "Go forth, my son,
And speedily perform this pressing duty,
To linger would be dangerous. Say to him,
'The army is prepared--the throne is ready,
And thou alone, of the Kaianian race,
Deemed fit for sovereign rule.'"

Rustem accordingly mounted Rakush, and accompanied by a powerful force,
pursued his way towards the mountain Alberz; and though the road was
infested by the troops of Afrasiyab, he valiantly overcame every
difficulty that was opposed to his progress. On reaching the vicinity of
Alberz, he observed a beautiful spot of ground studded with luxuriant
trees, and watered by glittering rills. There too, sitting upon a
throne, placed in the shade on the flowery margin of a stream, he saw a
young man, surrounded by a company of friends and attendants, and
engaged at a gorgeous entertainment. Rustem, when he came near, was
hospitably invited to partake of the feast: but this he declined,
saying, that he was on an important mission to Alberz, which forbade the
enjoyment of any pleasure till his task was accomplished; in short, that
he was in search of Kai-kobad: but upon being told that he would there
receive intelligence of him, he alighted and approached the bank of the
stream where the company was assembled. The young man who was seated
upon the golden throne took hold of the hand of Rustem, and filling up a
goblet with wine, gave another to his guest, and asked him at whose
command or suggestion he was in search of Kai-kobad. Rustem replied,
that he was sent by his father Zal, and frankly communicated to him the
special object they had in view. The young man, delighted with the
information, immediately discovered himself, acknowledged that he was
Kai-kobad, and then Rustem respectfully hailed him as the sovereign of
Persia.

The banquet was resumed again--
And, hark, the softly warbled strain,
As harp and flute, in union sweet,
The voices of the singers meet.
The black-eyed damsels now display
Their art in many an amorous lay;
And now the song is loud and clear,
And speaks of Rustem's welcome here.
"This is a day, a glorious day,
That drives ungenial thoughts away;
This is a day to make us glad,
Since Rustem comes for Kai-kobad;
O, let us pass our time in glee,
And talk of Jemshid's majesty,
The pomp and glory of his reign,
And still the sparkling goblet drain.--
Come, Saki, fill the wine-cup high,
And let not even its brim be dry;
For wine alone has power to part
The rust of sorrow from the heart.
Drink to the king, in merry mood,
Since fortune smiles, and wine is good;
Quaffing red wine is better far
Than shedding blood in strife, or war;
Man is but dust, and why should he
Become a fire of enmity?
Drink deep, all other cares resign.
For what can vie with ruby wine?"

In this manner ran the song of the revellers. After which, and being
rather merry with wine, Kai-kobad told Rustem of the dream that had
induced him to descend from his place of refuge on Alberz, and to
prepare a banquet on the occasion. He dreamt the night before that two
white falcons from Persia placed a splendid crown upon his head, and
this vision was interpreted by Rustem as symbolical of his father and
himself, who at that moment were engaged in investing him with kingly
power. The hero then solicited the young sovereign to hasten his
departure for Persia, and preparations were made without delay. They
travelled night and day, and fell in with several detachments of the
enemy, which were easily repulsed by the valor of Rustem. The fiercest
attack proceeded from Kelun, one of Afrasiyab's warriors, near the
confines of Persia, who in the encounter used his spear with great
dexterity and address.

But Rustem with his javelin soon transfixed
The Tartar knight--who in the eyes of all
Looked like a spitted chicken--down he sunk,
And all his soldiers fled in wild dismay.
Then Rustem turned aside, and found a spot
Where verdant meadows smiled, and streamlets flowed,
Inviting weary travellers to rest.
There they awhile remained--and when the sun
Went down, and night had darkened all the sky,
The champion joyfully pursued his way,
And brought the monarch to his father's house.
--Seven days they sat in council--on the eighth
Young Kai-kobad was crowned--and placed upon
The ivory throne in presence of his warriors,
Who all besought him to commence the war
Against the Tartar prince, Afrasiyab.

KAI-KOBAD

Kai-kobad having been raised to the throne at a council of the warriors,
and advised to oppose the progress of Afrasiyab, immediately assembled
his army. Mihrab, the ruler of Kabul, was appointed to one wing, and
Gustahem to the other--the centre was given to Karun and Kishwad, and
Rustem was placed in front, Zal with Kai-kobad remaining in the rear.
The glorious standard of Kavah streamed upon the breeze.

On the other side, Afrasiyab prepared for battle, assisted by his heroes
Akbas, Wisah, Shimasas, and Gersiwaz; and so great was the clamor and
confusion which proceeded from both armies, that earth and sky seemed
blended together.[8] The clattering of hoofs, the shrill roar of
trumpets, the rattle of brazen drums, and the vivid glittering of spear
and shield, produced indescribable tumult and splendor.

Karun was the first in action, and he brought many a hero to the ground.
He singled out Shimasas; and after a desperate struggle, laid him
breathless on the field. Rustem, stimulated by these exploits, requested
his father, Zal, to point out Afrasiyab, that he might encounter him;
but Zal endeavored to dissuade him from so hopeless an effort, saying,

"My son, be wise, and peril not thyself;
Black is his banner, and his cuirass black--
His limbs are cased in iron--on his head
He wears an iron helm--and high before him
Floats the black ensign; equal in his might
To ten strong men, he never in one place
Remains, but everywhere displays his power.
The crocodile has in the rolling stream
No safety; and a mountain, formed of steel,
Even at the mention of Afrasiyab,
Melts into water. Then, beware of him."
Rustem replied:--"Be not alarmed for me--
My heart, my arm, my dagger, are my castle,
And Heaven befriends me--let him but appear,
Dragon or Demon, and the field is mine."

Then Rustem valiantly urged Rakush towards the Turanian army, and called
out aloud. As soon as Afrasiyab beheld him, he inquired who he could be,
and he was told, "This is Rustem, the son of Zal. Seest thou not in his
hand the battle-axe of Sam? The youth has come in search of renown."
When the combatants closed, they struggled for some time together, and
at length Rustem seized the girdle-belt of his antagonist, and threw him
from his saddle. He wished to drag the captive as a trophy to Kai-kobad,
that his first great victory might be remembered, but unfortunately the
belt gave way, and Afrasiyab fell on the ground. Immediately the fallen
chief was surrounded and rescued by his own warriors, but not before
Rustem had snatched off his crown, and carried it away with the broken
girdle which was left in his hand. And now a general engagement took
place. Rustem being reinforced by the advance of the king, with Zal and
Mihrab at his side--

Both armies seemed so closely waging war,
Thou wouldst have said, that they were mixed together.
The earth shook with the tramping of the steeds,
Rattled the drums; loud clamours from the troops
Echoed around, and from the iron grasp
Of warriors, many a life was spent in air.
With his huge mace, cow-headed, Rustem dyed
The ground with crimson--and wherever seen,
Urging impatiently his fiery horse,
Heads severed fell like withered leaves in autumn.
If, brandishing his sword, he struck the head,
Horseman and steed were downward cleft in twain--
And if his side-long blow was on the loins,
The sword passed through, as easily as the blade
Slices a cucumber. The blood of heroes
Deluged the plain. On that tremendous day,
With sword and dagger, battle-axe and noose,[9]
He cut, and tore, and broke, and bound the brave,
Slaying and making captive. At one swoop
More than a thousand fell by his own hand.

Zal beheld his son with amazement and delight. The Turanians left the
fire-worshippers in possession of the field, and retreated towards the
Jihun with precipitation, not a sound of drum or trumpet denoting their
track. After halting three days in a state of deep dejection and misery,
they continued their retreat along the banks of the Jihun. The Persian
army, upon the flight of the enemy, fell back with their prisoners of
war, and Rustem was received by the king with distinguished honor. When
Afrasiyab returned to his father, he communicated to him, with a heavy
heart, the misfortunes of the battle, and the power that had been
arrayed against him, dwelling with wonder and admiration on the
stupendous valor of Rustem.

Seeing my sable banner,
He to the fight came like a crocodile,
Thou wouldst have said his breath scorched up the plain;
He seized my girdle with such mighty force
As if he would have torn my joints asunder;
And raised me from my saddle--that I seemed
An insect in his grasp--but presently
The golden girdle broke, and down I fell
Ingloriously upon the dusty ground;
But I was rescued by my warrior train!
Thou knowest my valour, how my nerves are strung,
And may conceive the wondrous strength, which thus
Sunk me to nothing. Iron is his frame,
And marvellous his power; peace, peace, alone
Can save us and our country from destruction.

Poshang, considering the luckless state of affairs, and the loss of so
many valiant warriors, thought it prudent to acquiesce in the wishes of
Afrasiyab, and sue for peace. To this end Wisah was intrusted with
magnificent presents, and the overtures which in substance ran thus:
"Minuchihr was revenged upon Tur and Silim for the death of Irij.
Afrasiyab again has revenged their death upon Nauder, the son of
Minuchihr, and now Rustem has conquered Afrasiyab. But why should we any
longer keep the world in confusion--Why should we not be satisfied with
what Feridun, in his wisdom, decreed? Continue in the empire which he
appropriated to Irij, and let the Jihun be the boundary between us, for
are we not connected by blood, and of one family? Let our kingdoms be
gladdened with the blessings of peace."

When these proposals of peace reached Kai-kobad, the following answer was
returned:

"Well dost thou know that I was not the first
To wage this war. From Tur, thy ancestor,
The strife began. Bethink thee how he slew
The gentle Irij--his own brother;--how,
In these our days, thy son, Afrasiyab,
Crossing the Jihun, with a numerous force
Invaded Persia--think how Nauder died!
Not in the field of battle, like a hero,
But murdered by thy son--who, ever cruel,
Afterwards stabbed his brother, young Aghriras,
So deeply mourned by thee. Yet do I thirst not
For vengeance, or for strife. I yield the realm
Beyond the Jihun--let that river be
The boundary between us; but thy son,
Afrasiyab, must take his solemn oath
Never to cross that limit, or disturb
The Persian throne again; thus pledged, I grant
The peace solicited."

The messenger without delay conveyed this welcome intelligence to
Poshang, and the Turanian army was in consequence immediately withdrawn
within the prescribed line of division, Rustem, however, expostulated
with the king against making peace at a time the most advantageous for
war, and especially when he had just commenced his victorious career;
but Kai-kobad thought differently, and considered nothing equal to
justice and tranquillity. Peace was accordingly concluded, and upon
Rustem and Zal he conferred the highest honors, and his other warriors
engaged in the late conflict also experienced the effects of his bounty
and gratitude in an eminent degree.

Kai-kobad then moved towards Persia, and establishing his throne at
Istakhar,[10] he administered the affairs of his government with
admirable benevolence and clemency, and with unceasing solicitude for
the welfare of his subjects. In his eyes every one had an equal claim to
consideration and justice. The strong had no power to oppress the weak.
After he had continued ten years at Istakhar, building towns and cities,
and diffusing improvement and happiness over the land, he removed his
throne into Iran. His reign lasted one hundred years, which were passed
in the continued exercise of the most princely virtues, and the most
munificent liberality. He had four sons: Kai-kaus, Arish, Poshin and
Aramin; and when the period of his dissolution drew nigh, he solemnly
enjoined the eldest, whom he appointed his successor, to pursue steadily
the path of integrity and justice, and to be kind and merciful in the
administration of the empire left to his charge.

KAI-KAUS

When Kai-kaus[11] ascended the throne of his father, the whole world was
obedient to his will; but he soon began to deviate from the wise customs
and rules which had been recommended as essential to his prosperity and
happiness. He feasted and drank wine continually with his warriors and
chiefs, so that in the midst of his luxurious enjoyments he looked upon
himself as superior to every being upon the face of the earth, and thus
astonished the people, high and low, by his extravagance and pride.

One day a Demon, disguised as a musician, waited upon the monarch, and
playing sweetly on his harp, sung a song in praise of Mazinderan.

And thus he warbled to the king--
"Mazinderan is the bower of spring,
My native home; the balmy air
Diffuses health and fragrance there;
So tempered is the genial glow,
Nor heat nor cold we ever know;
Tulips and hyacinths abound
On every lawn; and all around
Blooms like a garden in its prime,
Fostered by that delicious clime.
The bulbul sits on every spray,
And pours his soft melodious lay;
Each rural spot its sweets discloses,
Each streamlet is the dew of roses;
And damsels, idols of the heart,
Sustain a more bewitching part.
And mark me, that untravelled man
Who never saw Mazinderan,
And all the charms its bowers possess,
Has never tasted happiness!"

No sooner had Kai-kaus heard this description of the country of
Mazinderan than he determined to lead an army thither, declaring to his
warriors that the splendor and glory of his reign should exceed that of
either Jemshid, Zohak, or Kai-kobad. The warriors, however, were alarmed
at this precipitate resolution, thinking it certain destruction to make
war against the Demons; but they had not courage or confidence enough to
disclose their real sentiments. They only ventured to suggest, that if
his majesty reflected a little on the subject, he might not ultimately
consider the enterprise so advisable as he had at first imagined. But
this produced no impression, and they then deemed it expedient to
despatch a messenger to Zal, to inform him of the wild notions which the
Evil One had put into the head of Kai-kaus to effect his ruin, imploring
Zal to allow of no delay, otherwise the eminent services so lately
performed by him and Rustem for the state would be rendered utterly
useless and vain. Upon this summons, Zal immediately set off from Sistan
to Iran; and having arrived at the royal court, and been received with
customary respect and consideration, he endeavored to dissuade the king
from the contemplated expedition into Mazinderan.

"O, could I wash the darkness from thy mind,
And show thee all the perils that surround
This undertaking! Jemshid, high in power,
Whose diadem was brilliant as the sun,
Who ruled the demons--never in his pride
Dreamt of the conquest of Mazinderan!
Remember Feridun, he overthrew
Zohak--destroyed the tyrant, but he never
Thought of the conquest of Mazinderan!
This strange ambition never fired the souls
Of by-gone monarchs--mighty Minuchihr,
Always victorious, boundless in his wealth,
Nor Zau, nor Nauder, nor even Kai-kobad,
With all their pomp, and all their grandeur, ever
Dreamt of the conquest of Mazinderan!
It is the place of demon-sorcerers,
And all enchanted. Swords are useless there,
Nor bribery nor wisdom can obtain
Possession of that charm-defended land,
Then throw not men and treasure to the winds;
Waste not the precious blood of warriors brave,
In trying to subdue Mazinderan!"

Kai-kaus, however, was not to be diverted from his purpose; and with
respect to what his predecessors had not done, he considered himself
superior in might and influence to either Feridun, Jemshid, Minuchihr,
or Kai-kobad, who had never aspired to the conquest of Mazinderan. He
further observed, that he had a bolder heart, a larger army, and a
fuller treasury than any of them, and the whole world was under his
sway--

And what are all these Demon-charms,
That they excite such dread alarms?
What is a Demon-host to me,
Their magic spells and sorcery?
One effort, and the field is won;
Then why should I the battle shun?
Be thou and Rustem (whilst afar
I wage the soul-appalling war),
The guardians of the kingdom; Heaven
To me hath its protection given;
And, when I reach the Demon's fort,
Their severed heads shall be my sport!

When Zal became convinced of the unalterable resolution of Kai-kaus, he
ceased to oppose his views, and expressed his readiness to comply with
whatever commands he might receive for the safety of the state.

May all thy actions prosper--may'st thou never
Have cause to recollect my warning voice,
With sorrow or repentance. Heaven protect thee!

Zal then took leave of the king and his warrior friends, and returned to
Sistan, not without melancholy forebodings respecting the issue of the
war against Mazinderan.

As soon as morning dawned, the army was put in motion. The charge of the
empire, and the keys of the treasury and jewel-chamber were left in the
hands of Milad, with injunctions, however, not to draw a sword against
any enemy that might spring up, without the consent and assistance of
Zal and Rustem. When the army had arrived within the limits of
Mazinderan, Kai-kaus ordered Giw to select two thousand of the bravest
men, the boldest wielders of the battle-axe, and proceed rapidly towards
the city. In his progress, according to the king's instructions, he
burnt and destroyed everything of value, mercilessly slaying man, woman,
and child. For the king said:

Kill all before thee, whether young or old,
And turn their day to night; thus free the world
From the magician's art.

Proceeding in his career of desolation and ruin, Giw came near to the
city, and found it arrayed in all the splendor of heaven; every street
was crowded with beautiful women, richly adorned, and young damsels with
faces as bright as the moon. The treasure-chamber was full of gold and
jewels, and the country abounded with cattle. Information of this
discovery was immediately sent to Kai-kaus, who was delighted to find
that Mazinderan was truly a blessed region, the very garden of beauty,
where the cheeks of the women seemed to be tinted with the hue of the
pomegranate flower, by the gate-keeper of Paradise.

This invasion filled the heart of the king of Mazinderan with grief and
alarm, and his first care was to call the gigantic White Demon to his
aid. Meanwhile Kai-kaus, full of the wildest anticipations of victory,
was encamped on the plain near the city in splendid state, and preparing
to commence the final overthrow of the enemy on the following day. In
the night, however, a cloud came, and deep darkness like pitch
overspread the earth, and tremendous hail-stones poured down upon the
Persian host, throwing them into the greatest confusion. Thousands were
destroyed, others fled, and were scattered abroad in the gloom. The
morning dawned, but it brought no light to the eyes of Kai-kaus; and
amidst the horrors he experienced, his treasury was captured, and the
soldiers of his army either killed or made prisoners of war. Then did he
bitterly lament that he had not followed the wise counsel of Zal. Seven
days he was involved in this dreadful affliction, and on the eighth day
he heard the roar of the White Demon, saying:

"O king, thou art the willow-tree, all barren,
With neither fruit, nor flower. What could induce
The dream of conquering Mazinderan?
Hadst thou no friend to warn thee of thy folly?
Hadst thou not heard of the White Demon's power--
Of him, who from the gorgeous vault of Heaven
Can charm the stars? From this mad enterprise
Others have wisely shrunk--and what hast thou
Accomplished by a more ambitious course?
Thy soldiers have slain many, dire destruction
And spoil have been their purpose--thy wild will
Has promptly been obeyed; but thou art now
Without an army, not one man remains
To lift a sword, or stand in thy defence;
Not one to hear thy groans and thy despair."

There were selected from the army twelve thousand of the demon-warriors,
to take charge of and hold in custody the Iranian captives, all the
chiefs, as well as the soldiers, being secured with bonds, and only
allowed food enough to keep them alive. Arzang, one of the
demon-leaders, having got possession of the wealth, the crown and
jewels, belonging to Kai-kaus, was appointed to escort the captive king
and his troops, all of whom were deprived of sight, to the city of
Mazinderan, where they were delivered into the hands of the monarch of
that country. The White Demon, after thus putting an end to hostilities,
returned to his own abode.

Kai-kaus, strictly guarded as he was, found an opportunity of sending an
account of his blind and helpless condition to Zal, in which he lamented
that he had not followed his advice, and urgently requested him, if he
was not himself in confinement, to come to his assistance, and release
him from captivity. When Zal heard the melancholy story, he gnawed the
very skin of his body with vexation, and turning to Rustem, conferred
with him in private.

"The sword must be unsheathed, since Kai-kaus
Is bound a captive in the dragon's den,
And Rakush must be saddled for the field,
And thou must bear the weight of this emprize;
For I have lived two centuries, and old age
Unfits me for the heavy toils of war.
Should'st thou release the king, thy name will be
Exalted o'er the earth.--Then don thy mail,
And gain immortal honor."

Rustem replied that it was a long journey to Mazinderan, and that the
king had been six months on the road. Upon this Zal observed that there
were two roads--the most tedious one was that which Kai-kaus had taken;
but by the other, which was full of dangers and difficulty, and lions,
and demons, and sorcery, he might reach Mazinderan in seven days, if he
reached it at all.

On hearing these words Rustem assented, and chose the short road,
observing:

"Although it is not wise, they say,
With willing feet to track the way
To hell; though only men who've lost,
All love of life, by misery crossed,
Would rush into the tiger's lair,
And die, poor reckless victims, there;
I gird my loins, whate'er may be,
And trust in God for victory."

On the following day, resigning himself to the protection of Heaven, he
put on his war attire, and with his favorite horse, Rakush, properly
caparisoned, stood prepared for the journey. His mother, Rudabeh, took
leave of him with great sorrow; and the young hero departed from Sistan,
consoling himself and his friends, thus:

"O'er him who seeks the battle-field,
Nobly his prisoned king to free,
Heaven will extend its saving shield,
And crown his arms with victory."

THE SEVEN LABORS OF RUSTEM

First Stage.--He rapidly pursued his way, performing two days' journey
in one, and soon came to a forest full of wild asses. Oppressed with
hunger, he succeeded in securing one of them, which he roasted over a
fire, lighted by sparks produced by striking the point of his spear, and
kept in a blaze with dried grass and branches of trees. After regaling
himself, and satisfying his hunger, he loosened the bridle of Rakush,
and allowed him to graze; and choosing a safe place for repose during
the night, and taking care to have his sword under his head, he went to
sleep among the reeds of that wilderness. In a short space a fierce lion
appeared, and attacked Rakush with great violence; but Rakush very
speedily with his teeth and heels put an end to his furious assailant.
Rustem, awakened by the confusion, and seeing the dead lion before him,
said to his favorite companion:--

"Ah! Rakush, why so thoughtless grown,
To fight a lion thus alone;
For had it been thy fate to bleed,
And not thy foe, my gallant steed!
How could thy master have conveyed
His helm, and battle-axe, and blade,
Kamund, and bow, and buberyan,
Unaided, to Mazinderan?
Why didst thou fail to give the alarm,
And save thyself from chance of harm,
By neighing loudly in my ear;
But though thy bold heart knows no fear,
From such unwise exploits refrain,
Nor try a lion's strength again."

Saying this, Rustem laid down to sleep, and did not awake till the
morning dawned. As the sun rose, he remounted Rakush, and proceeded on
his journey towards Mazinderan.

Second Stage.--After travelling rapidly for some time, he entered a
desert, in which no water was to be found, and the sand was so burning
hot, that it seemed to be instinct with fire. Both horse and rider were
oppressed with the most maddening thirst. Rustem alighted, and vainly
wandered about in search of relief, till almost exhausted, he put up a
prayer to Heaven for protection against the evils which surrounded him,
engaged as he was in an enterprise for the release of Kai-kaus and the
Persian army, then in the power of the demons. With pious earnestness he
besought the Almighty to bless him in the great work; and whilst in a
despairing mood he was lamenting his deplorable condition, his tongue
and throat being parched with thirst, his body prostrate on the sand,
under the influence of a raging sun, he saw a sheep pass by, which he
hailed as the harbinger of good. Rising up and grasping his sword in his
hand, he followed the animal, and came to a fountain of water, where he
devoutly returned thanks to God for the blessing which had preserved his
existence, and prevented the wolves from feeding on his lifeless limbs.
Refreshed by the cool water, he then looked out for something to allay
his hunger, and killing a gor, he lighted a fire and roasted it, and
regaled upon its savory flesh, which he eagerly tore from the bones.

When the period of rest arrived, Rustem addressed Rakush, and said to
him angrily:--

"Beware, my steed, of future strife.
Again thou must not risk thy life;
Encounter not with lion fell,
Nor demon still more terrible;
But should an enemy appear,
Ring loud the warning in my ear."

After delivering these injunctions, Rustem laid down to sleep, leaving
Rakush unbridled, and at liberty to crop the herbage close by.

Third Stage.--At midnight a monstrous dragon-serpent issued from the
forest; it was eighty yards in length, and so fierce, that neither
elephant, nor demon, nor lion, ever ventured to pass by its lair. It
came forth, and seeing the champion asleep, and a horse near him, the
latter was the first object of attack. But Rakush retired towards his
master, and neighed and beat the ground so furiously, that Rustem soon
awoke; looking around on every side, however, he saw nothing--the dragon
had vanished, and he went to sleep again. Again the dragon burst out of
the thick darkness, and again Rakush was at the pillow of his master,
who rose up at the alarm: but anxiously trying to penetrate the dreary
gloom, he saw nothing--all was a blank; and annoyed at this apparently
vexatious conduct of his horse, he spoke sharply:--

"Why thus again disturb my rest,
When sleep had softly soothed my breast?
I told thee, if thou chanced to see
Another dangerous enemy,
To sound the alarm; but not to keep
Depriving me of needful sleep;
When nothing meets the eye nor ear,
Nothing to cause a moment's fear!
But if again my rest is broke,
On thee shall fall the fatal stroke,
And I myself will drag this load
Of ponderous arms along the road;
Yes, I will go, a lonely man,
Without thee, to Mazinderan."

Rustem again went to sleep, and Rakush was resolved this time not to
move a step from his side, for his heart was grieved and afflicted by
the harsh words that had been addressed to him. The dragon again
appeared, and the faithful horse almost tore up the earth with his
heels, to rouse his sleeping master. Rustem again awoke, and sprang to
his feet, and was again angry; but fortunately at that moment sufficient
light was providentially given for him to see the prodigious cause of
alarm.

Then swift he drew his sword, and closed in strife
With that huge monster.--Dreadful was the shock
And perilous to Rustem; but when Rakush
Perceived the contest doubtful, furiously,
With his keen teeth, he bit and tore away
The dragon's scaly hide; whilst quick as thought
The Champion severed off the ghastly head,
And deluged all the plain with horrid blood.
Amazed to see a form so hideous
Breathless stretched out before him, he returned
Thanks to the Omnipotent for his success,
Saying--"Upheld by thy protecting arm,
What is a lion's strength, a demon's rage,
Or all the horrors of the burning desert,
With not one drop to quench devouring thirst?
Nothing, since power and might proceed from Thee."

Fourth Stage.--Rustem having resumed the saddle, continued his journey
through an enchanted territory, and in the evening came to a beautifully
green spot, refreshed by flowing rivulets, where he found, to his
surprise, a ready-roasted deer, and some bread and salt. He alighted,
and sat down near the enchanted provisions, which vanished at the sound
of his voice, and presently a tambourine met his eyes, and a flask of
wine. Taking up the instrument he played upon it, and chanted a ditty
about his own wanderings, and the exploits which he most loved. He said
that he had no pleasure in banquets, but only in the field fighting with
heroes and crocodiles in war. The song happened to reach the ears of a
sorceress, who, arrayed in all the charms of beauty, suddenly approached
him, and sat down by his side. The champion put up a prayer of gratitude
for having been supplied with food and wine, and music, in the desert of
Mazinderan, and not knowing that the enchantress was a demon in
disguise, he placed in her hands a cup of wine in the name of God; but
at the mention of the Creator, the enchanted form was converted into a
black fiend. Seeing this, Rustem threw his kamund, and secured the
demon; and, drawing his sword, at once cut the body in two!

Fifth Stage.--

From thence proceeding onward, he approached
A region destitute of light, a void
Of utter darkness. Neither moon nor star
Peep'd through the gloom; no choice of path remained,
And therefore, throwing loose the rein, he gave
Rakush the power to travel on, unguided.
At length the darkness was dispersed, the earth
Became a scene, joyous and light, and gay,
Covered with waving corn--there Rustem paused
And quitting his good steed among the grass,
Laid himself gently down, and, wearied, slept;
His shield beneath his head, his sword before him.

When the keeper of the forest saw the stranger and his horse, he went to
Rustem, then asleep, and struck his staff violently on the ground, and
having thus awakened the hero, he asked him, devil that he was, why he
had allowed his horse to feed upon the green corn-field. Angry at these
words, Rustem, without uttering a syllable, seized hold of the keeper by
the ears, and wrung them off. The mutilated wretch, gathering up his
severed ears, hurried away, covered with blood, to his master, Aulad,
and told him of the injury he had sustained from a man like a black
demon, with a tiger-skin cuirass and an iron helmet; showing at the same
time the bleeding witnesses of his sufferings. Upon being informed of
this outrageous proceeding, Aulad, burning with wrath, summoned together
his fighting men, and hastened by the directions of the keeper to the
place where Rustem had been found asleep. The champion received the
angry lord of the land, fully prepared, on horseback, and heard him
demand his name, that he might not slay a worthless antagonist, and why
he had torn off the ears of his forest-keeper! Rustem replied that the
very sound of his name would make him shudder with horror. Aulad then
ordered his troops to attack Rustem, and they rushed upon him with great
fury; but their leader was presently killed by the master-hand, and
great numbers were also scattered lifeless over the plain. The survivors
running away, Rustem's next object was to follow and secure, by his
kamund, the person of Aulad, and with admirable address and ingenuity,
he succeeded in dismounting him and taking him alive. He then bound his
hands, and said to him:--

"If thou wilt speak the truth unmixed with lies,
Unmixed with false prevaricating words,
And faithfully point out to me the caves
Of the White Demon and his warrior chiefs--
And where Kaus is prisoned--thy reward
Shall be the kingdom of Mazinderan;
For I, myself, will place thee on that throne.
But if thou play'st me false--thy worthless blood
Shall answer for the foul deception."

"Stay,
Be not in wrath," Aulad at once replied--
"Thy wish shall be fulfilled--and thou shalt know
Where king Kaus is prisoned--and, beside,
Where the White Demon reigns. Between two dark
And lofty mountains, in two hundred caves
Immeasurably deep, his people dwell.
Twelve hundred Demons keep the watch by night
And Baid, and Sinja. Like a reed, the hills
Tremble whenever the White Demon moves.
But dangerous is the way. A stony desert
Lies full before thee, which the nimble deer
Has never passed. Then a prodigious stream
Two farsangs wide obstructs thy path, whose banks
Are covered with a host of warrior-Demons,
Guarding the passage to Mazinderan;
And thou art but a single man--canst thou
O'ercome such fearful obstacles as these?"

At this the Champion smiled. "Show but the way,
And thou shalt see what one man can perform,
With power derived from God! Lead on, with speed,
To royal Kaus." With obedient haste
Aulad proceeded, Rustem following fast,
Mounted on Rakush. Neither dismal night
Nor joyous day they rested--on they went
Until at length they reached the fatal field,
Where Kaus was o'ercome. At midnight hour,
Whilst watching with attentive eye and ear,
A piercing clamor echoed all around,
And blazing fires were seen, and numerous lamps
Burnt bright on every side. Rustem inquired
What this might be. "It is Mazinderan,"
Aulad rejoined, "and the White Demon's chiefs
Are gathered there." Then Rustem to a tree
Bound his obedient guide--to keep him safe,
And to recruit his strength, laid down awhile
And soundly slept.

When morning dawned, he rose,
And mounting Rakush, put his helmet on,
The tiger-skin defended his broad chest,
And sallying forth, he sought the Demon chief,
Arzang, and summoned him with such a roar
That stream and mountain shook. Arzang sprang up,
Hearing a human voice, and from his tent
Indignant issued--him the champion met,
And clutched his arms and ears, and from his body
Tore off the gory head, and cast it far
Amidst the shuddering Demons, who with fear
Shrunk back and fled, precipitate, lest they
Should likewise feel that dreadful punishment.

Sixth Stage.--After this achievement Rustem returned to the place where
he had left Aulad, and having released him, sat down under the tree and
related what he had done. He then commanded his guide to show the way to
the place where Kai-kaus was confined; and when the champion entered the
city of Mazinderan, the neighing of Rakush was so loud that the sound
distinctly reached the ears of the captive monarch. Kaus rejoiced, and
said to his people: "I have heard the voice of Rakush, and my
misfortunes are at an end;" but they thought he was either insane or
telling them a dream. The actual appearance of Rustem, however, soon
satisfied them. Gudarz, and Tus, and Bahram, and Giw, and Gustahem, were
delighted to meet him, and the king embraced him with great warmth and
affection, and heard from him with admiration the story of his wonderful
progress and exploits. But Kaus and his warriors, under the influence
and spells of the Demons, were still blind, and he cautioned Rustem
particularly to conceal Rakush from the sight of the sorcerers, for if
the White Demon should hear of the slaughter of Arzang, and the
conqueror being at Mazinderan, he would immediately assemble an
overpowering army of Demons, and the consequences might be terrible.

"But thou must storm the cavern of the Demons
And their gigantic chief--great need there is
For sword and battle-axe--and with the aid
Of Heaven, these miscreant sorcerers may fall
Victims to thy avenging might. The road
Is straight before thee--reach the Seven Mountains,
And there thou wilt discern the various groups,
Which guard the awful passage. Further on,
Within a deep and horrible recess,
Frowns the White Demon--conquer him--destroy
That fell magician, and restore to sight
Thy suffering king, and all his warrior train.
The wise in cures declare, that the warm blood
From the White Demon's heart, dropped in the eye,
Removes all blindness--it is, then, my hope,
Favored by God, that thou wilt slay the fiend,
And save us from the misery we endure,
The misery of darkness without end."

Rustem accordingly, after having warned his friends and companions in
arms to keep on the alert, prepared for the enterprise, and guided by
Aulad, hurried on till he came to the Haft-koh, or Seven Mountains.
There he found numerous companies of Demons; and coming to one of the
caverns, saw it crowded with the same awful beings. And now consulting
with Aulad, he was informed that the most advantageous time for attack
would be when the sun became hot, for then all the Demons were
accustomed to go to sleep, with the exception of a very small number who
were appointed to keep watch. He therefore waited till the sun rose high
in the firmament; and as soon as he had bound Aulad to a tree hand and
foot, with the thongs of his kamund, drew his sword, and rushed among
the prostrate Demons, dismembering and slaying all that fell in his way.
Dreadful was the carnage, and those who survived fled in the wildest
terror from the champion's fury.

Seventh Stage.--Rustem now hastened forward to encounter the White
Demon.

Advancing to the cavern, he looked down
And saw a gloomy place, dismal as hell;
But not one cursed, impious sorcerer
Was visible in that infernal depth.
Awhile he stood--his falchion in his grasp,
And rubbed his eyes to sharpen his dim sight,
And then a mountain-form, covered with hair,
Filling up all the space, rose into view.
The monster was asleep, but presently
The daring shouts of Rustem broke his rest,
And brought him suddenly upon his feet,
When seizing a huge mill-stone, forth he came,
And thus accosted the intruding chief:
"Art thou so tired of life, that reckless thus
Thou dost invade the precincts of the Demons?
Tell me thy name, that I may not destroy
A nameless thing!" The champion stern replied,
"My name is Rustem--sent by Zal, my father,
Descended from the champion Sam Suwar,
To be revenged on thee--the King of Persia
Being now a prisoner in Mazinderan."
When the accursed Demon heard the name
Of Sam Suwar, he, like a serpent, writhed
In agony of spirit; terrified
At that announcement--then, recovering strength,
He forward sprang, and hurled the mill-stone huge
Against his adversary, who fell back
And disappointed the prodigious blow.
Black frowned the Demon, and through Rustem's heart
A wild sensation ran of dire alarm;
But, rousing up, his courage was revived,
And wielding furiously his beaming sword,
He pierced the Demon's thigh, and lopped the limb;
Then both together grappled, and the cavern
Shook with the contest--each, at times, prevailed;
The flesh of both was torn, and streaming blood
Crimsoned the earth. "If I survive this day,"
Said Rustem in his heart, in that dread strife,
"My life must be immortal." The White Demon,
With equal terror, muttered to himself:
"I now despair of life--sweet life; no more
Shall I be welcomed at Mazinderan."
And still they struggled hard--still sweat and blood
Poured down at every strain. Rustem, at last,
Gathering fresh power, vouchsafed by favouring Heaven
And bringing all his mighty strength to bear,
Raised up the gasping Demon in his arms,
And with such fury dashed him to the ground,
That life no longer moved his monstrous frame.
Promptly he then tore out the reeking heart,
And crowds of demons simultaneous fell
As part of him, and stained the earth with gore;
Others who saw this signal overthrow,
Trembled, and hurried from the scene of blood.
Then the great victor, issuing from that cave
With pious haste--took off his helm, and mail,
And royal girdle--and with water washed
His face and body--choosing a pure place
For prayer--to praise his Maker--Him who gave
The victory, the eternal source of good;
Without whose grace and blessing, what is man!
With it his armor is impregnable.

The Champion having finished his prayer, resumed his war habiliments,
and going to Aulad, released him from the tree, and gave into his charge
the heart of the White Demon. He then pursued his journey back to Kaus
at Mazinderan. On the way Aulad solicited some reward for the services
he had performed, and Rustem again promised that he should be appointed
governor of the country.

"But first the monarch of Mazinderan,
The Demon-king, must be subdued, and cast
Into the yawning cavern--and his legions
Of foul enchanters, utterly destroyed."

Upon his arrival at Mazinderan, Rustem related to his sovereign all that
he had accomplished, and especially that he had torn out and brought
away the White Demon's heart, the blood of which was destined to restore
Kai-kaus and his warriors to sight. Rustem was not long in applying the
miraculous remedy, and the moment the blood touched their eyes, the
fearful blindness was perfectly cured.

The champion brought the Demon's heart,
And squeezed the blood from every part,
Which, dropped upon the injured sight,
Made all things visible and bright;
One moment broke that magic gloom,
Which seemed more dreadful than the tomb.

The monarch immediately ascended his throne surrounded by all his
warriors, and seven days were spent in mutual congratulations and
rejoicing. On the eighth day they all resumed the saddle, and proceeded
to complete the destruction of the enemy. They set fire to the city, and
burnt it to the ground, and committed such horrid carnage among the
remaining magicians that streams of loathsome blood crimsoned all the
place.

Kaus afterwards sent Ferhad as an ambassador to the king of Mazinderan,
suggesting to him the expediency of submission, and representing to him
the terrible fall of Arzang, and of the White Demon with all his host,
as a warning against resistance to the valor of Rustem. But when the
king of Mazinderan heard from Ferhad the purpose of his embassy, he
expressed great astonishment, and replied that he himself was superior
in all respects to Kaus; that his empire was more extensive, and his
warriors more numerous and brave. "Have I not," said he, "a hundred
war-elephants, and Kaus not one? Wherever I move, conquest marks my way;
why then should I fear the sovereign of Persia? Why should I submit to
him?"

This haughty tone made a deep impression upon Ferhad, who returning
quickly, told Kaus of the proud bearing and fancied power of the ruler
of Mazinderan. Rustem was immediately sent for; and so indignant was he
on hearing the tidings, that "every hair on his body started up like a
spear," and he proposed to go himself with a second dispatch. The king
was too much pleased to refuse, and another letter was written more
urgent than the first, threatening the enemy to hang up his severed head
on the walls of his own fort, if he persisted in his contumacy and scorn
of the offer made.

As soon as Rustem had come within a short distance of the court of the
king of Mazinderan, accounts reached his majesty of the approach of
another ambassador, when a deputation of warriors was sent to receive
him. Rustem observing them, and being in sight of the hostile army, with
a view to show his strength, tore up a large tree on the road by the
roots, and dexterously wielded it in his hand like a spear. Tilting
onwards, he flung it down before the wondering enemy, and one of the
chiefs then thought it incumbent upon him to display his own prowess. He
advanced, and offered to grasp hands with Rustem: they met; but the
gripe of the champion was so excruciating that the sinews of his
adversary cracked, and in agony he fell from his horse. Intelligence of
this discomfiture was instantly conveyed to the king, who then summoned
his most valiant and renowned chieftain, Kalahur, and directed him to go
and punish, signally, the warrior who had thus presumed to triumph over
one of his heroes. Accordingly Kalahur appeared, and boastingly
stretched out his hand, which Rustem wrung with such grinding force,
that the very nails dropped off, and blood started from his body. This
was enough, and Kalahur hastily returned to the king, and anxiously
recommended him to submit to terms, as it would be in vain to oppose
such invincible strength. The king was both grieved and angry at this
situation of affairs, and invited the ambassador to his presence. After
inquiring respecting Kaus and the Persian army, he said:

"And thou art Rustem, clothed with mighty power,
Who slaughtered the White Demon, and now comest
To crush the monarch of Mazinderan!"
"No!" said the champion, "I am but his servant,
And even unworthy of that noble station;
My master being a warrior, the most valiant
That ever graced the world since time began.
Nothing am I; but what doth he resemble!
What is a lion, elephant, or demon!
Engaged in fight, he is himself a host!"

The ambassador then tried to convince the king of the folly of
resistance, and of his certain defeat if he continued to defy the power
of Kaus and the bravery of Rustem; but the effort was fruitless, and
both states prepared for battle.

The engagement which ensued was obstinate and sanguinary, and after
seven days of hard fighting, neither army was victorious, neither
defeated. Afflicted at this want of success, Kaus grovelled in the dust,
and prayed fervently to the Almighty to give him the triumph. He
addressed all his warriors, one by one, and urged them to increased
exertions; and on the eighth day, when the battle was renewed, prodigies
of valor were performed. Rustem singled out, and encountered the king of
Mazinderan, and fiercely they fought together with sword and javelin;
but suddenly, just as he was rushing on with overwhelming force, his
adversary, by his magic art, transformed himself into a stony rock.
Rustem and the Persian warriors were all amazement. The fight had been
suspended for some time, when Kaus came forward to inquire the cause;
and hearing with astonishment of the transformation, ordered his
soldiers to drag the enchanted mass towards his own tent; but all the
strength that could be applied was unequal to move so great a weight,
till Rustem set himself to the task, and amidst the wondering army,
lifted up the rock and conveyed it to the appointed place. He then
addressed the work of sorcery, and said: "If thou dost not resume thy
original shape, I will instantly break thee, flinty-rock as thou now
art, into atoms, and scatter thee in the dust." The magician-king was
alarmed by this threat, and reappeared in his own form, and then Rustem,
seizing his hand, brought him to Kaus, who, as a punishment for his
wickedness and atrocity, ordered him to be slain, and his body to be cut
into a thousand pieces! The wealth of the country was immediately
afterwards secured; and at the recommendation of Rustem, Aulad was
appointed governor of Mazinderan. After the usual thanksgivings and
rejoicings on account of the victory, Kaus and his warriors returned to
Persia, where splendid honors and rewards were bestowed on every soldier
for his heroic services. Rustem having received the highest
acknowledgments of his merit, took leave, and returned to his father Zal
at Zabulistan.

Suddenly an ardent desire arose in the heart of Kaus to survey all the
provinces and states of his empire. He wished to visit Turan, and Chin,
and Mikran, and Berber, and Zirra. Having commenced his royal tour of
inspection, he found the King of Berberistan in a state of rebellion,
with his army prepared to dispute his authority. A severe battle was the
consequence; but the refractory sovereign was soon compelled to retire,
and the elders of the city came forward to sue for mercy and protection.
After this triumph, Kaus turned towards the mountain Kaf, and visited
various other countries, and in his progress became the guest of the son
of Zal in Zabulistan where he stayed a month, enjoying the pleasures of
the festive board and the sports of the field.

The disaffection of the King of Hamaveran, in league with the King of
Misser and Sham, and the still hostile King of Berberistan, soon,
however, drew him from Nim-ruz, and quitting the principality of Rustem,
his arms were promptly directed against his new enemy, who in the
contest which ensued, made an obstinate resistance, but was at length
overpowered, and obliged to ask for quarter. After the battle, Kaus was
informed that the Shah had a daughter of great beauty, named Sudaveh,
possessing a form as graceful as the tall cypress, musky ringlets, and
all the charms of Heaven. From the description of this damsel he became
enamoured, and through the medium of a messenger, immediately offered
himself to be her husband. The father did not seem to be glad at this
proposal, observing to the messenger, that he had but two things in life
valuable to him, and those were his daughter and his property; one was
his solace and delight, and the other his support; to be deprived of
both would be death to him; still he could not gainsay the wishes of a
king of such power, and his conqueror. He then sorrowfully communicated
the overture to his child, who, however, readily consented; and in the
course of a week, the bride was sent escorted by soldiers, and
accompanied by a magnificent cavalcade, consisting of a thousand horses
and mules, a thousand camels, and numerous female attendants. When
Sudaveh descended from her litter, glowing with beauty, with her rich
dark tresses flowing to her feet, and cheeks like the rose, Kaus
regarded her with admiration and rapture; and so impatient was he to
possess that lovely treasure, that the marriage rites were performed
according to the laws of the country without delay.

The Shah of Hamaveran, however, was not satisfied, and he continually
plotted within himself how he might contrive to regain possession of
Sudaveh, as well as be revenged upon the king. With this view he invited
Kaus to be his guest for a while; but Sudaveh cautioned the king not to
trust to the treachery which dictated the invitation, as she apprehended
from it nothing but mischief and disaster. The warning, however, was of
no avail, for Kaus accepted the proffered hospitality of his new
father-in-law. He accordingly proceeded with his bride and his most
famous warriors to the city, where he was received and entertained in
the most sumptuous manner, seated on a gorgeous throne, and felt
infinitely exhilarated with the magnificence and the hilarity by which
he was surrounded. Seven days were passed in this glorious banqueting
and delight; but on the succeeding night, the sound of trumpets and the
war-cry was heard. The intrusion of soldiers changed the face of the
scene; and the king, who had just been waited on, and pampered with such
respect and devotion, was suddenly seized, together with his principal
warriors, and carried off to a remote fortress, situated on a high
mountain, where they were imprisoned, and guarded by a thousand valiant
men. His tents were plundered, and all his treasure taken away. At this
event his wife was inconsolable and deaf to all entreaties from her
father, declaring that she preferred death to separation from her
husband; upon which she was conveyed to the same dungeon, to mingle
groans with the captive king.

Alas! how false and fickle is the world,
Friendship nor pleasure, nor the ties of blood,
Can check the headlong course of human passions;
Treachery still laughs at kindred;--who is safe
In this tumultuous sphere of strife and sorrow?

INVASION OF IRAN BY AFRASIYAB

The intelligence of Kaus's imprisonment was very soon spread through the
world, and operated as a signal to all the inferior states to get
possession of Iran. Afrasiyab was the most powerful aspirant to the
throne; and gathering an immense army, he hurried from Turan, and made a
rapid incursion into the country, which after three months he succeeded
in conquering, scattering ruin and desolation wherever he came.

Some of those who escaped from the field bent their steps towards
Zabulistan, by whom Rustem was informed of the misfortunes in which Kaus
was involved; it therefore became necessary that he should again
endeavor to effect the liberation of his sovereign; and accordingly,
after assembling his troops from different quarters, the first thing he
did was to despatch a messenger to Hamaveran, with a letter, demanding
the release of the prisoners; and in the event of a refusal, declaring
the king should suffer the same fate as the White Demon and the
magician-monarch of Mazinderan. Although this threat produced
considerable alarm in the breast of the king of Hamaveran, he arrogantly
replied, that if Rustem wished to be placed in the same situation as
Kaus, he was welcome to come as soon as he liked.

Upon hearing this defiance, Rustem left Zabulistan, and after an arduous
journey by land and water, arrived at the confines of Hamaveran. The
king of that country, roused by the noise and uproar, and bold aspect of
the invading army, drew up his own forces, and a battle ensued, but he
was unequal to stand his ground before the overwhelming courage of
Rustem. His troops fled in confusion, and then almost in despair he
anxiously solicited assistance from the chiefs of Berber and Misser,
which was immediately given. Thus three kings and their armies were
opposed to the power and resources of one man. Their formidable array
covered an immense space.

Each proud his strongest force to bring,
The eagle of valour flapped his wing.

But when the King of Hamaveran beheld the person of Rustem in all its
pride and strength, and commanding power, he paused with apprehension
and fear, and intrenched himself well behind his own troops. Rustem, on
the contrary, was full of confidence.

"What, though there be a hundred thousand men
Pitched against one, what use is there in numbers
When Heaven is on my side: with Heaven my friend,
The foe will soon be mingled with the dust."

Having ordered the trumpets to sound, he rushed on the enemy, mounted on
Rakush, and committed dreadful havoc among them.

It would be difficult to tell
How many heads, dissevered, fell,
Fighting his dreadful way;
On every side his falchion gleamed,
Hot blood in every quarter streamed
On that tremendous day.

The chief of Hamaveran and his legions were the first to shrink from the
conflict; and then the King of Misser, ashamed of their cowardice,
rapidly advanced towards the champion with the intention of punishing
him for his temerity, but he had no sooner received one of Rustem's hard
blows on his head, than he turned to flight, and thus hoped to escape
the fury of his antagonist. That fortune, however, was denied him, for
being instantly pursued, he was caught with the kamund, or noose, thrown
round his loins, dragged from his horse, and safely delivered into the
hands of Bahram, who bound him, and kept him by his side.

Ring within ring the lengthening kamund flew,
And from his steed the astonished monarch drew.

Having accomplished this signal capture, Rustem proceeded against the
troops under the Shah of Berberistan, which, valorously aided as he was,
by Zuara, he soon vanquished and dispatched; and impelling Rakush
impetuously forward upon the shah himself, made him and forty of his
principal chiefs prisoners of war. The King of Hamaveran, seeing the
horrible carnage, and the defeat of all his expectations, speedily sent
a messenger to Rustem, to solicit a suspension of the fight, offering to
deliver up Kaus and all his warriors, and all the regal property and
treasure which had been plundered from him. The troops of the three
kingdoms also urgently prayed for quarter and protection, and Rustem
readily agreed to the proffered conditions.

"Kaus to liberty restore,
With all his chiefs, I ask no more;
For him alone I conquering came;
Than him no other prize I claim."

THE RETURN OF KAI-KAUS

It was a joyous day when Kaus and his illustrious heroes were released
from their fetters, and removed from the mountain-fortress in which they
were confined. Rustem forthwith reseated him on his throne, and did not
fail to collect for the public treasury all the valuables of the three
states which had submitted to his power. The troops of Misser,
Berberistan, and Hamaveran, having declared their allegiance to the
Persian king, the accumulated numbers increased Kaus's army to upwards
of three hundred thousand men, horse and foot, and with this immense
force he moved towards Iran. Before marching, however, he sent a message
to Afrasiyab, commanding him to quit the country he had so unjustly
invaded, and recommending him to be contented with the territory of
Turan.

"Hast thou forgotten Rustem's power,
When thou wert in that perilous hour
By him overthrown? Thy girdle broke,
Or thou hadst felt the conqueror's yoke.
Thy crowding warriors proved thy shield,
They saved and dragged thee from the field;
By them unrescued then, wouldst thou
Have lived to vaunt thy prowess now?"

This message was received with bitter feelings of resentment by
Afrasiyab, who prepared his army for battle without delay, and promised
to bestow his daughter in marriage and a kingdom upon the man who should
succeed in taking Rustem alive.

This proclamation was a powerful excitement: and when the engagement
took place, mighty efforts were made for the reward; but those who
aspired to deserve it were only the first to fall. Afrasiyab beholding
the fall of so many of his chiefs, dashed forward to cope with the
champion: but his bravery was unavailing; for, suffering sharply under
the overwhelming attacks of Rustem, he was glad to effect his escape,
and retire from the field. In short, he rapidly retraced his steps to
Turan, leaving Kaus in full possession of the kingdom.

With anguish stricken, he regained his home,
After a wild and ignominious flight;
The world presenting nothing to his lips
But poison-beverage; all was death to him.

Kaus being again seated on the throne of Persia, he resumed the
administration of affairs with admirable justice and liberality, and
despatched some of his most distinguished warriors to secure the welfare
and prosperity of the states of Mervi, and Balkh, and Nishapur, and
Hirat. At the same time he conferred on Rustem the title of Jahani
Pahlvan, or, Champion of the World.

In safety now from foreign and domestic enemies, Kaus turned his
attention to pursuits very different from war and conquest. He directed
the Demons to construct two splendid palaces on the mountain Alberz, and
separate mansions for the accommodation of his household, which he
decorated in the most magnificent manner. All the buildings were
beautifully arranged both for convenience and pleasure; and gold and
silver and precious stones were used so lavishly, and the brilliancy
produced by their combined effect was so great, that night and day
appeared to be the same.

Iblis, ever active, observing the vanity and ambition of the king, was
not long in taking advantage of the circumstance, and he soon persuaded
the Demons to enter into his schemes. Accordingly one of them, disguised
as a domestic servant, was instructed to present a nosegay to Kaus; and
after respectfully kissing the ground, say to him:--

"Thou art great as king can be,
Boundless in thy majesty;
What is all this earth to thee,
All beneath the sky?
Peris, mortals, demons, hear
Thy commanding voice with fear;
Thou art lord of all things here,
But, thou canst not fly!

"That remains for thee; to know
Things above, as things below,
How the planets roll;
How the sun his light displays,
How the moon darts forth her rays;
How the nights succeed the days;
What the secret cause betrays,
And who directs the whole!"

This artful address of the Demon satisfied Kaus of the imperfection of
his nature, and the enviable power which he had yet to obtain. To him,
therefore, it became matter of deep concern, how he might be enabled to
ascend the Heavens without wings, and for that purpose he consulted his
astrologers, who presently suggested a way in which his desires might be
successfully accomplished.

They contrived to rob an eagle's nest of its young, which they reared
with great care, supplying them well with invigorating food, till they
grew large and strong. A framework of aloes-wood was then prepared; and
at each of the four corners was fixed perpendicularly, a javelin,
surmounted on the point with flesh of a goat. At each corner again one
of the eagles was bound, and in the middle Kaus was seated in great pomp
with a goblet of wine before him. As soon as the eagles became hungry,
they endeavored to get at the goat's flesh upon the javelins, and by
flapping their wings and flying upwards, they quickly raised up the
throne from the ground. Hunger still pressing them, and still being
distant from their prey, they ascended higher and higher in the clouds,
conveying the astonished king far beyond his own country; but after long
and fruitless exertion their strength failed them, and unable to keep
their way, the whole fabric came tumbling down from the sky, and fell
upon a dreary solitude in the kingdom of Chin. There Kaus was left, a
prey to hunger, alone, and in utter despair, until he was discovered by
a band of Demons, whom his anxious ministers had sent in search of him.

Rustem, and Gudarz, and Tus, at length heard of what had befallen the
king, and with feelings of sorrow not unmixed with indignation, set off
to his assistance. "Since I was born," said Gudarz, "never did I see
such a man as Kaus. He seems to be entirely destitute of reason and
understanding; always in distress and affliction. This is the third
calamity in which he has wantonly involved himself. First at Mazinderan,
then at Hamaveran, and now he is being punished for attempting to
discover the secrets of the Heavens!" When they reached the wilderness
into which Kaus had fallen, Gudarz repeated to him the same
observations, candidly telling him that he was fitter for a mad-house
than a throne, and exhorting him to be satisfied with his lot and be
obedient to God, the creator of all things. The miserable king was
softened to tears, acknowledged his folly; and as soon as he was
escorted back to his palace, he shut himself up, remaining forty days,
unseen, prostrating himself in shame and repentance. After that he
recovered his spirits, and resumed the administration of affairs with
his former liberality, clemency, and justice, almost rivalling the glory
of Feridun and Jemshid.

One day Rustem made a splendid feast; and whilst he and his brother
warriors, Giw and Gudarz, and Tus, were quaffing their wine, it was
determined upon to form a pretended hunting party, and repair to the
sporting grounds of Afrasiyab. The feast lasted seven days; and on the
eighth, preparations were made for the march, an advance party being
pushed on to reconnoitre the motions of the enemy. Afrasiyab was soon
informed of what was going on, and flattered himself with the hopes of
getting Rustem and his seven champions into his thrall, for which
purpose he called together his wise men and warriors, and said to them:
"You have only to secure these invaders, and Kaus will soon cease to be
the sovereign of Persia." To accomplish this object, a Turanian army of
thirty thousand veterans was assembled, and ordered to occupy all the
positions and avenues in the vicinity of the sporting grounds. An
immense clamor, and thick clouds of dust, which darkened the skies,
announced their approach; and when intelligence of their numbers was
brought to Rustem, the undaunted champion smiled, and said to Garaz:
"Fortune favors me; what cause is there to fear the king of Turan? his
army does not exceed a hundred thousand men. Were I alone, with Rakush,
with my armor, and battle-axe, I would not shrink from his legions. Have
I not seven companions in arms, and is not one of them equal to five
hundred Turanian heroes? Let Afrasiyab dare to cross the boundary-river,
and the contest will presently convince him that he has only sought his
own defeat." Promptly at a signal the cup-bearer produced goblets of the
red wine of Zabul; and in one of them Rustem pledged his royal master
with loyalty, and Tus and Zuara joined in the convivial and social
demonstration of attachment to the king.

The champion arrayed in his buburiyan, mounted Rakush, and advanced
towards the Turanian army. Afrasiyab, when he beheld him in all his
terrible strength and vigor, was amazed and disheartened, accompanied,
as he was, by Tus, and Gudarz, and Gurgin, and Giw, and Bahram, and
Berzin, and Ferhad. The drums and trumpets of Rustem were now heard, and
immediately the hostile forces engaged with dagger, sword, and javelin.
Dreadful was the onset, and the fury with which the conflict was
continued. In truth, so sanguinary and destructive was the battle that
Afrasiyab exclaimed in grief and terror: "If this carnage lasts till the
close of day, not a man of my army will remain alive. Have I not one
warrior endued with sufficient bravery to oppose and subdue this mighty
Rustem? What! not one fit to be rewarded with a diadem, with my own
throne and kingdom, which I will freely give to the victor!" Pilsum
heard the promise, and was ambitious of earning the reward; but fate
decreed it otherwise. His prodigious efforts were of no avail. Alkus was
equally unsuccessful, though the bravest of the brave among the Turanian
warriors. Encountering Rustem, his brain was pierced by a javelin
wielded by the Persian hero, and he fell dead from his saddle. This
signal achievement astonished and terrified the Turanians, who, however,
made a further despairing effort against the champion and his seven
conquering companions, but with no better result than before, and
nothing remained to them excepting destruction or flight. Choosing the
latter they wheeled round, and endeavored to escape from the sanguinary
fate that awaited them.

Seeing this precipitate movement of the enemy, Rustem impelled Rakush
forward in pursuit, addressing his favorite horse with fondness and
enthusiasm:--

"My valued friend--put forth thy speed,
This is a time of pressing need;
Bear me away amidst the strife,
That I may take that despot's life;
And with my mace and javelin, flood
This dusty plain with foe-man's blood."

Excited by his master's cry,
The war-horse bounded o'er the plain,
So swiftly that he seemed to fly,
Snorting with pride, and tossing high
His streaming mane.

And soon he reached that despot's side,
"Now is the time!" the Champion cried,
"This is the hour to victory given,"
And flung his noose--which bound the king
Fast for a moment in its ring;
But soon, alas! the bond was riven.

Haply the Tartar-monarch slipt away,
Not doomed to suffer on that bloody day;
And freed from thrall, he hurrying led
His legions cross the boundary-stream,
Leaving his countless heaps of dead
To rot beneath the solar beam.

Onward he rushed with heart opprest,
And broken fortunes; he had quaffed
Bright pleasure's cup--but now, unblest,
Poison was mingled with the draught!

The booty in horses, treasure, armor, pavilions, and tents, was immense;
and when the whole was secured, Rustem and his companions fell back to
the sporting-grounds already mentioned, from whence he informed Kai-kaus
by letter of the victory that had been gained. After remaining two weeks
there, resting from the toils of war and enjoying the pleasures of
hunting, the party returned home to pay their respects to the Persian
king:

And this is life! Thus conquest and defeat,
Vary the lights and shades of human scenes,
And human thought. Whilst some, immersed in pleasure,
Enjoy the sweets, others again endure
The miseries of the world. Hope is deceived
In this frail dwelling; certainty and safety
Are only dreams which mock the credulous mind;
Time sweeps o'er all things; why then should the wise
Mourn o'er events which roll resistless on,
And set at nought all mortal opposition?

STORY OF SOHRAB

O ye, who dwell in Youth's inviting bowers,
Waste not, in useless joy, your fleeting hours,
But rather let the tears of sorrow roll,
And sad reflection fill the conscious soul.
For many a jocund spring has passed away,
And many a flower has blossomed, to decay;
And human life, still hastening to a close,
Finds in the worthless dust its last repose.
Still the vain world abounds in strife and hate,
And sire and son provoke each other's fate;
And kindred blood by kindred hands is shed,
And vengeance sleeps not--dies not, with the dead.
All nature fades--the garden's treasures fall,
Young bud, and citron ripe--all perish, all.

And now a tale of sorrow must be told,
A tale of tears, derived from Mubid old,
And thus remembered.--

With the dawn of day,
Rustem arose, and wandering took his way,
Armed for the chase, where sloping to the sky,
Turan's lone wilds in sullen grandeur lie;
There, to dispel his melancholy mood,
He urged his matchless steed through glen and wood.
Flushed with the noble game which met his view,
He starts the wild-ass o'er the glistening dew;
And, oft exulting, sees his quivering dart,
Plunge through the glossy skin, and pierce the heart.
Tired of the sport, at length, he sought the shade,
Which near a stream embowering trees displayed,
And with his arrow's point, a fire he raised,
And thorns and grass before him quickly blazed.
The severed parts upon a bough he cast,
To catch the flames; and when the rich repast
Was drest; with flesh and marrow, savory food,
He quelled his hunger; and the sparkling flood
That murmured at his feet, his thirst represt;
Then gentle sleep composed his limbs to rest.

Meanwhile his horse, for speed and form renown'd,
Ranged o'er the plain with flowery herbage crown'd,
Encumbering arms no more his sides opprest,
No folding mail confined his ample chest,[12]
Gallant and free, he left the Champion's side,
And cropp'd the mead, or sought the cooling tide;
When lo! it chanced amid that woodland chase,
A band of horsemen, rambling near the place,
Saw, with surprise, superior game astray,
And rushed at once to seize the noble prey;
But, in the imminent struggle, two beneath
His steel-clad hoofs received the stroke of death;
One proved a sterner fate--for downward borne,
The mangled head was from the shoulders torn.
Still undismayed, again they nimbly sprung,
And round his neck the noose entangling flung:
Now, all in vain, he spurns the smoking ground,
In vain the tumult echoes all around;
They bear him off, and view, with ardent eyes,
His matchless beauty and majestic size;
Then soothe his fury, anxious to obtain,
A bounding steed of his immortal strain.

When Rustem woke, and miss'd his favourite horse,
The loved companion of his glorious course;
Sorrowing he rose, and, hastening thence, began
To shape his dubious way to Samengan;
"Reduced to journey thus, alone!" he said,
"How pierce the gloom which thickens round my head;
Burthen'd, on foot, a dreary waste in view,
Where shall I bend my steps, what path pursue?
The scoffing Turks will cry, 'Behold our might!
We won the trophy from the Champion-knight!
From him who, reckless of his fame and pride,
Thus idly slept, and thus ignobly died,'"
Girding his loins he gathered from the field,
His quivered stores, his beamy sword and shield,
Harness and saddle-gear were o'er him slung.
Bridle and mail across his shoulders hung.[13]
Then looking round, with anxious eye, to meet,
The broad impression of his charger's feet,
The track he hail'd, and following, onward prest.
While grief and hope alternate filled his breast.

O'er vale and wild-wood led, he soon descries.
The regal city's shining turrets rise.
And when the Champion's near approach is known,
The usual homage waits him to the throne.
The king, on foot, received his welcome guest
With preferred friendship, and his coming blest:
But Rustem frowned, and with resentment fired,
Spoke of his wrongs, the plundered steed required.
"I've traced his footsteps to your royal town,
Here must he be, protected by your crown;
But if retained, if not from fetters freed,
My vengeance shall o'ertake the felon-deed."
"My honored guest!" the wondering King replied--
"Shall Rustem's wants or wishes be denied?
But let not anger, headlong, fierce, and blind,
O'ercloud the virtues of a generous mind.
If still within the limits of my reign,
The well known courser shall be thine again:
For Rakush never can remain concealed,
No more than Rustem in the battle-field!
Then cease to nourish useless rage, and share
With joyous heart my hospitable fare."

The son of Zal now felt his wrath subdued,
And glad sensations in his soul renewed.
The ready herald by the King's command,
Convened the Chiefs and Warriors of the land;
And soon the banquet social glee restored,
And China wine-cups glittered on the board;
And cheerful song, and music's magic power,
And sparkling wine, beguiled the festive hour.
The dulcet draughts o'er Rustem's senses stole,
And melting strains absorbed his softened soul.
But when approached the period of repose,
All, prompt and mindful, from the banquet rose;
A couch was spread well worthy such a guest,
Perfumed with rose and musk; and whilst at rest,
In deep sound sleep, the wearied Champion lay,
Forgot were all the sorrows of the way.

One watch had passed, and still sweet slumber shed
Its magic power around the hero's head--
When forth Tahmineh came--a damsel held
An amber taper, which the gloom dispelled,
And near his pillow stood; in beauty bright,
The monarch's daughter struck his wondering sight.
Clear as the moon, in glowing charms arrayed,
Her winning eyes the light of heaven displayed;
Her cypress form entranced the gazer's view,
Her waving curls, the heart, resistless, drew,
Her eye-brows like the Archer's bended bow;
Her ringlets, snares; her cheek, the rose's glow,
Mixed with the lily--from her ear-tips hung
Rings rich and glittering, star-like; and her tongue,
And lips, all sugared sweetness--pearls the while
Sparkled within a mouth formed to beguile.
Her presence dimmed the stars, and breathing round
Fragrance and joy, she scarcely touched the ground,
So light her step, so graceful--every part
Perfect, and suited to her spotless heart.

Rustem, surprised, the gentle maid addressed,
And asked what lovely stranger broke his rest.
"What is thy name," he said--"what dost thou seek
Amidst the gloom of night? Fair vision, speak!"

"O thou," she softly sigh'd, "of matchless fame!
With pity hear, Tahmineh is my name!
The pangs of love my anxious heart employ,
And flattering promise long-expected joy;
No curious eye has yet these features seen,
My voice unheard, beyond the sacred screen.[14]
How often have I listened with amaze,
To thy great deeds, enamoured of thy praise;
How oft from every tongue I've heard the strain,
And thought of thee--and sighed, and sighed again.
The ravenous eagle, hovering o'er his prey,
Starts at thy gleaming sword and flies away:
Thou art the slayer of the Demon brood,
And the fierce monsters of the echoing wood.
Where'er thy mace is seen, shrink back the bold,
Thy javelin's flash all tremble to behold.
Enchanted with the stories of thy fame,
My fluttering heart responded to thy name;
And whilst their magic influence I felt,
In prayer for thee devotedly I knelt;
And fervent vowed, thus powerful glory charms,
No other spouse should bless my longing arms.
Indulgent heaven propitious to my prayer,
Now brings thee hither to reward my care.
Turan's dominions thou hast sought, alone,
By night, in darkness--thou, the mighty one!
O claim my hand, and grant my soul's desire;
Ask me in marriage of my royal sire;
Perhaps a boy our wedded love may crown,
Whose strength like thine may gain the world's renown.
Nay more--for Samengan will keep my word--
Rakush to thee again shall be restored."

The damsel thus her ardent thought expressed,
And Rustem's heart beat joyous in his breast,
Hearing her passion--not a word was lost,
And Rakush safe, by him still valued most;
He called her near; with graceful step she came,
And marked with throbbing pulse his kindled flame.

And now a Mubid, from the Champion-knight,
Requests the royal sanction to the rite;
O'erjoyed, the King the honoured suit approves,
O'erjoyed to bless the doting child he loves,
And happier still, in showering smiles around,
To be allied to warrior so renowned.
When the delighted father, doubly blest,
Resigned his daughter to his glorious guest,
The people shared the gladness which it gave,
The union of the beauteous and the brave.
To grace their nuptial day--both old and young,
The hymeneal gratulations sung:
"May this young moon bring happiness and joy,
And every source of enmity destroy."
The marriage-bower received the happy pair,
And love and transport shower'd their blessings there.

Ere from his lofty sphere the morn had thrown
His glittering radiance, and in splendour shone,
The mindful Champion, from his sinewy arm,
His bracelet drew, the soul-ennobling charm;
And, as he held the wondrous gift with pride,
He thus address'd his love-devoted bride!
"Take this," he said, "and if, by gracious heaven,
A daughter for thy solace should be given,
Let it among her ringlets be displayed,
And joy and honour will await the maid;
But should kind fate increase the nuptial-joy,
And make thee mother of a blooming boy,
Around his arm this magic bracelet bind,
To fire with virtuous deeds his ripening mind;
The strength of Sam will nerve his manly form,
In temper mild, in valour like the storm;
His not the dastard fate to shrink, or turn
From where the lions of the battle burn;
To him the soaring eagle from the sky
Will stoop, the bravest yield to him, or fly;
Thus shall his bright career imperious claim
The well-won honours of immortal fame!"
Ardent he said, and kissed her eyes and face,
And lingering held her in a fond embrace.

When the bright sun his radiant brow displayed,
And earth in all its loveliest hues arrayed,
The Champion rose to leave his spouse's side,
The warm affections of his weeping bride.
For her, too soon the winged moments flew,
Too soon, alas! the parting hour she knew;
Clasped in his arms, with many a streaming tear,
She tried, in vain, to win his deafen'd ear;
Still tried, ah fruitless struggle! to impart,
The swelling anguish of her bursting heart.

The father now with gratulations due
Rustem approaches, and displays to view
The fiery war-horse--welcome as the light
Of heaven, to one immersed in deepest night;
The Champion, wild with joy, fits on the rein,
And girds the saddle on his back again;
Then mounts, and leaving sire and wife behind,
Onward to Sistan rushes like the wind.

But when returned to Zabul's friendly shade,
None knew what joys the Warrior had delayed;
Still, fond remembrance, with endearing thought,
Oft to his mind the scene of rapture brought.

When nine slow-circling months had roll'd away,
Sweet-smiling pleasure hailed the brightening day--
A wondrous boy Tahmineh's tears supprest,
And lull'd the sorrows of her heart to rest;
To him, predestined to be great and brave,
The name Sohrab his tender mother gave;
And as he grew, amazed, the gathering throng,
View'd his large limbs, his sinews firm and strong;
His infant years no soft endearment claimed:
Athletic sports his eager soul inflamed;
Broad at the chest and taper round the loins,
Where to the rising hip the body joins;
Hunter and wrestler; and so great his speed,
He could overtake, and hold the swiftest steed.
His noble aspect, and majestic grace,
Betrayed the offspring of a glorious race.
How, with a mother's ever anxious love,
Still to retain him near her heart she strove!
For when the father's fond inquiry came,
Cautious, she still concealed his birth and name,
And feign'd a daughter born, the evil fraught
With misery to avert--but vain the thought;
Not many years had passed, with downy flight,
Ere he, Tahmineh's wonder and delight,
With glistening eye, and youthful ardour warm,
Filled her foreboding bosom with alarm.
"O now relieve my heart!" he said, "declare,
From whom I sprang and breathe the vital air.
Since, from my childhood I have ever been,
Amidst my play-mates of superior mien;
Should friend or foe demand my father's name,
Let not my silence testify my shame!
If still concealed, you falter, still delay,
A mother's blood shall wash the crime away."

"This wrath forego," the mother answering cried,
"And joyful hear to whom thou art allied.
A glorious line precedes thy destined birth,
The mightiest heroes of the sons of earth.
The deeds of Sam remotest realms admire,
And Zal, and Rustem thy illustrious sire!"

In private, then, she Rustem's letter placed
Before his view, and brought with eager haste
Three sparkling rubies, wedges three of gold,
From Persia sent--"Behold," she said, "behold
Thy father's gifts, will these thy doubts remove
The costly pledges of paternal love!
Behold this bracelet charm, of sovereign power
To baffle fate in danger's awful hour;
But thou must still the perilous secret keep,
Nor ask the harvest of renown to reap;
For when, by this peculiar signet known,
Thy glorious father shall demand his son,
Doomed from her only joy in life to part,
O think what pangs will rend thy mother's heart!--
Seek not the fame which only teems with woe;
Afrasiyab is Rustem's deadliest foe!
And if by him discovered, him I dread,
Revenge will fail upon thy guiltless head."

The youth replied: "In vain thy sighs and tears,
The secret breathes and mocks thy idle fears.
No human power can fate's decrees control,
Or check the kindled ardour of my soul.
Then why from me the bursting truth conceal?
My father's foes even now my vengeance feel;
Even now in wrath my native legions rise,
And sounds of desolation strike the skies;
Kaus himself, hurled from his ivory throne,
Shall yield to Rustem the imperial crown,
And thou, my mother, still in triumph seen,
Of lovely Persia hailed the honoured queen!
Then shall Turan unite beneath my hand,
And drive this proud oppressor from the land!
Father and Son, in virtuous league combined,
No savage despot shall enslave mankind;
When Sun and Moon o'er heaven refulgent blaze,
Shall little stars obtrude their feeble rays?"[15]

He paused, and then: "O mother, I must now
My father seek, and see his lofty brow;
Be mine a horse, such as a prince demands,
Fit for the dusty field, a warrior's hands;
Strong as an elephant his form should be,
And chested like the stag, in motion free,
And swift as bird, or fish; it would disgrace
A warrior bold on foot to show his face."

The mother, seeing how his heart was bent,
His day-star rising in the firmament,
Commands the stables to be searched to find
Among the steeds one suited to his mind;
Pressing their backs he tries their strength and nerve,
Bent double to the ground their bellies curve;
Not one, from neighbouring plain and mountain brought,
Equals the wish with which his soul is fraught;
Fruitless on every side he anxious turns,
Fruitless, his brain with wild impatience burns,
But when at length they bring the destined steed,
From Rakush bred, of lightning's winged speed,
Fleet, as the arrow from the bow-string flies,
Fleet, as the eagle darting through the skies,
Rejoiced he springs, and, with a nimble bound,
Vaults in his seat, and wheels the courser round;
"With such a horse--thus mounted, what remains?
Kaus, the Persian King, no longer reigns!"
High flushed he speaks--with youthful pride elate,
Eager to crush the Monarch's glittering state;
He grasps his javelin with a hero's might,
And pants with ardour for the field of fight.

Soon o'er the realm his fame expanding spread,
And gathering thousands hasten'd to his aid.
His Grand-sire, pleased, beheld the warrior-train
Successive throng and darken all the plain;
And bounteously his treasures he supplied,
Camels, and steeds, and gold.--In martial pride,
Sohrab was seen--a Grecian helmet graced
His brow--and costliest mail his limbs embraced.

Afrasiyab now hears with ardent joy,
The bold ambition of the warrior-boy,
Of him who, perfumed with the milky breath
Of infancy, was threatening war and death,
And bursting sudden from his mother's side,
Had launched his bark upon the perilous tide.

The insidious King sees well the tempting hour,
Favouring his arms against the Persian power,
And thence, in haste, the enterprise to share,
Twelve thousand veterans selects with care;
To Human and Barman the charge consigns,
And thus his force with Samengan combines;
But treacherous first his martial chiefs he prest,
To keep the secret fast within their breast:--
"For this bold youth must not his father know,
Each must confront the other as his foe--
Such is my vengeance! With unhallowed rage,
Father and Son shall dreadful battle wage!
Unknown the youth shall Rustem's force withstand,
And soon o'erwhelm the bulwark of the land.
Rustem removed, the Persian throne is ours,
An easy conquest to confederate powers;
And then, secured by some propitious snare,
Sohrab himself our galling bonds shall wear.
Or should the Son by Rustem's falchion bleed,
The father's horror at that fatal deed,
Will rend his soul, and 'midst his sacred grief,
Kaus in vain will supplicate relief."

The tutored chiefs advance with speed, and bring
Imperial presents to the future king;
In stately pomp the embassy proceeds;
Ten loaded camels, ten unrivalled steeds,
A golden crown, and throne, whose jewels bright
Gleam in the sun, and shed a sparkling light,
A letter too the crafty tyrant sends,
And fraudful thus the glorious aim commends.--
"If Persia's spoils invite thee to the field,
Accept the aid my conquering legions yield;
Led by two Chiefs of valour and renown,
Upon thy head to place the kingly crown."

Elate with promised fame, the youth surveys
The regal vest, the throne's irradiant blaze,
The golden crown, the steeds, the sumptuous load
Of ten strong camels, craftily bestowed;
Salutes the Chiefs, and views on every side,
The lengthening ranks with various arms supplied.
The march begins--the brazen drums resound,[16]
His moving thousands hide the trembling ground;
For Persia's verdant land he wields the spear,
And blood and havoc mark his groaning rear.[17]

To check the Invader's horror-spreading course,
The barrier-fort opposed unequal force;
That fort whose walls, extending wide, contained
The stay of Persia, men to battle trained.
Soon as Hujir the dusky crowd descried,
He on his own presumptuous arm relied,
And left the fort; in mail with shield and spear,
Vaunting he spoke--"What hostile force is here?
What Chieftain dares our war-like realms invade?"
"And who art thou?" Sohrab indignant said,
Rushing towards him with undaunted look--
"Hast thou, audacious! nerve and soul to brook
The crocodile in fight, that to the strife
Singly thou comest, reckless of thy life?"

To this the foe replied--"A Turk and I
Have never yet been bound in friendly tie;
And soon thy head shall, severed by my sword,
Gladden the sight of Persia's mighty lord,
While thy torn limbs to vultures shall be given,
Or bleach beneath the parching blast of heaven."

The youthful hero laughing hears the boast,
And now by each continual spears are tost,
Mingling together; like a flood of fire
The boaster meets his adversary's ire;
The horse on which he rides, with thundering pace,
Seems like a mountain moving from its base;
Sternly he seeks the stripling's loins to wound,
But the lance hurtless drops upon the ground;
Sohrab, advancing, hurls his steady spear
Full on the middle of the vain Hujir,
Who staggers in his seat. With proud disdain
The youth now flings him headlong on the plain,
And quick dismounting, on his heaving breast
Triumphant stands, his Khunjer firmly prest,
To strike the head off--but the blow was stayed--Trembling,
for life, the craven boaster prayed.
That mercy granted eased his coward mind,
Though, dire disgrace, in captive bonds confined,
And sent to Human, who amazed beheld
How soon Sohrab his daring soul had quelled.

When Gurd-afrid, a peerless warrior-dame,
Heard of the conflict, and the hero's shame,
Groans heaved her breast, and tears of anger flowed,
Her tulip cheek with deeper crimson glowed;
Speedful, in arms magnificent arrayed,
A foaming palfrey bore the martial maid;
The burnished mail her tender limbs embraced,
Beneath her helm her clustering locks she placed;
Poised in her hand an iron javelin gleamed,
And o'er the ground its sparkling lustre streamed;
Accoutred thus in manly guise, no eye
However piercing could her sex descry;
Now, like a lion, from the fort she bends,
And 'midst the foe impetuously descends;
Fearless of soul, demands with haughty tone,
The bravest chief, for war-like valour known,
To try the chance of fight. In shining arms,
Again Sohrab the glow of battle warms;
With scornful smiles, "Another deer!" he cries,
"Come to my victor-toils, another prize!"
The damsel saw his noose insidious spread,
And soon her arrows whizzed around his head;
With steady skill the twanging bow she drew,
And still her pointed darts unerring flew;
For when in forest sports she touched the string,
Never escaped even bird upon the wing;
Furious he burned, and high his buckler held,
To ward the storm, by growing force impell'd;
And tilted forward with augmented wrath,
But Gurd-afrid aspires to cross his path;
Now o'er her back the slacken'd bow resounds;
She grasps her lance, her goaded courser bounds,
Driven on the youth with persevering might--
Unconquer'd courage still prolongs the fight;
The stripling Chief shields off the threaten'd blow,
Reins in his steed, then rushes on the foe;
With outstretch'd arm, he bending backwards hung,
And, gathering strength, his pointed javelin flung;
Firm through her girdle belt the weapon went,
And glancing down the polish'd armour rent.
Staggering, and stunned by his superior force,
She almost tumbled from her foaming horse,
Yet unsubdued, she cut the spear in two,
And from her side the quivering fragment drew,
Then gain'd her seat, and onward urged her steed,
But strong and fleet Sohrab arrests her speed:
Strikes off her helm, and sees--a woman's face,
Radiant with blushes and commanding grace!
Thus undeceived, in admiration lost,
He cries, "A woman, from the Persian host!
If Persian damsels thus in arms engage,
Who shall repel their warrior's fiercer rage?"
Then from his saddle thong--his noose he drew,
And round her waist the twisted loop he threw--
"Now seek not to escape," he sharply said,
"Such is the fate of war, unthinking maid!
And, as such beauty seldom swells our pride,
Vain thy attempt to cast my toils aside."

In this extreme, but one resource remained,
Only one remedy her hope sustained--
Expert in wiles each siren-art she knew,
And thence exposed her blooming face to view;
Raising her full black orbs, serenely bright,
In all her charms she blazed before his sight;
And thus addressed Sohrab--"O warrior brave,
Hear me, and thy imperilled honour save,
These curling tresses seen by either host,
A woman conquered, whence the glorious boast?
Thy startled troops will know, with inward grief,
A woman's arm resists their towering chief,
Better preserve a warrior's fair renown,
And let our struggle still remain unknown,
For who with wanton folly would expose
A helpless maid, to aggravate her woes;
The fort, the treasure, shall thy toils repay,
The chief, and garrison, thy will obey,
And thine the honours of this dreadful day."

Raptured he gazed, her smiles resistless move
The wildest transports of ungoverned love.
Her face disclosed a paradise to view,
Eyes like the fawn, and cheeks of rosy hue--
Thus vanquished, lost, unconscious of her aim,
And only struggling with his amorous flame,
He rode behind, as if compelled by fate,
And heedless saw her gain the castle-gate.

Safe with her friends, escaped from brand and spear,
Smiling she stands, as if unknown to fear.
--The father now, with tearful pleasure wild,
Clasps to his heart his fondly-foster'd child;
The crowding warriors round her eager bend,
And grateful prayers to favouring heaven ascend.

Now from the walls, she, with majestic air,
Exclaims: "Thou warrior of Turan! forbear,
Why vex thy soul, and useless strife demand!
Go, and in peace enjoy thy native land."
Stern he rejoins: "Thou beauteous tyrant! say,
Though crown'd with charms, devoted to betray,
When these proud walls, in dust and ruins laid,
Yield no defence, and thou a captive maid,
Will not repentance through thy bosom dart,
And sorrow soften that disdainful heart?"

Quick she replied: "O'er Persia's fertile fields
The savage Turk in vain his falchion wields;
When King Kaus this bold invasion hears,
And mighty Rustem clad in arms appears!
Destruction wide will glut the slippery plain,
And not one man of all thy host remain.
Alas! that bravery, high as thine, should meet
Amidst such promise, with a sure defeat,
But not a gleam of hope remains for thee,
Thy wondrous valour cannot keep thee free.
Avert the fate which o'er thy head impends,
Return, return, and save thy martial friends!"

Thus to be scorned, defrauded of his prey,
With victory in his grasp--to lose the day!
Shame and revenge alternate filled his mind;
The suburb-town to pillage he consigned,
And devastation--not a dwelling spared;
The very owl was from her covert scared;
Then thus: "Though luckless in my aim to-day,
To-morrow shall behold a sterner fray;
This fort, in ashes, scattered o'er the plain."
He ceased--and turned towards his troops again;
There, at a distance from the hostile power,
He brooding waits the slaughter-breathing hour.

Meanwhile the sire of Gurd-afrid, who now
Governed the fort, and feared the warrior's vow;
Mournful and pale, with gathering woes opprest,
His distant Monarch trembling thus addrest.
But first invoked the heavenly power to shed
Its choicest blessings o'er his royal head.
"Against our realm with numerous foot and horse,
A stripling warrior holds his ruthless course.
His lion-breast unequalled strength betrays,
And o'er his mien the sun's effulgence plays:
Sohrab his name; like Sam Suwar he shows,
Or Rustem terrible amidst his foes.
The bold Hujir lies vanquished on the plain,
And drags a captive's ignominious chain;
Myriads of troops besiege our tottering wall,
And vain the effort to suspend its fall.
Haste, arm for fight, this Tartar-power withstand,
Let sweeping Vengeance lift her flickering brand;
Rustem alone may stem the roaring wave,
And, prompt as bold, his groaning country save.
Meanwhile in flight we place our only trust,
Ere the proud ramparts crumble in the dust."

Swift flies the messenger through secret ways,
And to the King the dreadful tale conveys,
Then passed, unseen, in night's concealing shade,
The mournful heroes and the warrior maid.

Soon as the sun with vivifying ray,
Gleams o'er the landscape, and renews the day;
The flaming troops the lofty walls surround,
With thundering crash the bursting gates resound.
Already are the captives bound, in thought,
And like a herd before the conqueror brought;
Sohrab, terrific o'er the ruin, views
His hopes deceived, but restless still pursues.
An empty fortress mocks his searching eye,
No steel-clad chiefs his burning wrath defy;
No warrior-maid reviving passion warms,
And soothes his soul with fondly-valued charms.
Deep in his breast he feels the amorous smart,
And hugs her image closer to his heart.
"Alas! that Fate should thus invidious shroud
The moon's soft radiance in a gloomy cloud;
Should to my eyes such winning grace display,
Then snatch the enchanter of my soul away!
A beauteous roe my toils enclosed in vain,
Now I, her victim, drag the captive's chain;
Strange the effects that from her charms proceed,
I gave the wound, and I afflicted bleed!
Vanquished by her, I mourn the luckless strife;
Dark, dark, and bitter, frowns my morn of life.
A fair unknown my tortured bosom rends,
Withers each joy, and every hope suspends."

Impassioned thus Sohrab in secret sighed,
And sought, in vain, o'er-mastering grief to hide.
Can the heart bleed and throb from day to day,
And yet no trace its inmost pangs betray?
Love scorns control, and prompts the labouring sigh,
Pales the red lip, and dims the lucid eye;
His look alarmed the stern Turanian Chief,
Closely he mark'd his heart-corroding grief;--
And though he knew not that the martial dame,
Had in his bosom lit the tender flame[18];
Full well he knew such deep repinings prove,
The hapless thraldom of disastrous love.
Full well he knew some idol's musky hair,
Had to his youthful heart become a snare,
But still unnoted was the gushing tear,
Till haply he had gained his private ear:--
"In ancient times, no hero known to fame,
Not dead to glory e'er indulged the flame;
Though beauty's smiles might charm a fleeting hour,
The heart, unsway'd, repelled their lasting power.
A warrior Chief to trembling love a prey?
What! weep for woman one inglorious day?
Canst thou for love's effeminate control,
Barter the glory of a warrior's soul?
Although a hundred damsels might be gained,
The hero's heart shall still be free, unchained.
Thou art our leader, and thy place the field
Where soldiers love to fight with spear and shield;
And what hast thou to do with tears and smiles,
The silly victim to a woman's wiles?
Our progress, mark! from far Turan we came,
Through seas of blood to gain immortal fame;
And wilt thou now the tempting conquest shun,
When our brave arms this Barrier-fort have won?
Why linger here, and trickling sorrows shed,
Till mighty Kaus thunders o'er thy head!
Till Tus, and Giw, and Gudarz, and Bahram,
And Rustem brave, Feramurz, and Reham,
Shall aid the war! A great emprise is thine,
At once, then, every other thought resign;
For know the task which first inspired thy zeal,
Transcends in glory all that love can feel.
Rise, lead the war, prodigious toils require
Unyielding strength, and unextinguished fire;
Pursue the triumph with tempestuous rage,
Against the world in glorious strife engage,
And when an empire sinks beneath thy sway
(O quickly may we hail the prosperous day),
The fickle sex will then with blooming charms,
Adoring throng to bless thy circling arms!"

Human's warm speech, the spirit-stirring theme,
Awoke Sohrab from his inglorious dream.
No more the tear his faded cheek bedewed,
Again ambition all his hopes renewed:
Swell'd his bold heart with unforgotten zeal,
The noble wrath which heroes only feel;
Fiercely he vowed at one tremendous stroke,
To bow the world beneath the tyrant's yoke!
"Afrasiyab," he cried, "shall reign alone,
The mighty lord of Persia's gorgeous throne!"

Burning, himself, to rule this nether sphere,
These welcome tidings charmed the despot's ear.
Meantime Kaus, this dire invasion known,
Had called his chiefs around his ivory throne:
There stood Gurgin, and Bahram, and Gushwad,
And Tus, and Giw, and Gudarz, and Ferhad;
To them he read the melancholy tale,
Gust'hem had written of the rising bale;
Besought their aid and prudent choice, to form
Some sure defence against the threatening storm.
With one consent they urge the strong request,
To summon Rustem from his rural rest.--
Instant a warrior-delegate they send,
And thus the King invites his patriot-friend,

"To thee all praise, whose mighty arm alone,
Preserves the glory of the Persian throne!
Lo! Tartar hordes our happy realms invade;
The tottering state requires thy powerful aid;
A youthful Champion leads the ruthless host,
His savage country's widely-rumoured boast.
The Barrier-fortress sinks beneath his sway,
Hujir is vanquished, ruin tracks his way;
Strong as a raging elephant in fight,
No arm but thine can match his furious might.
Mazinderan thy conquering prowess knew;
The Demon-king thy trenchant falchion slew,
The rolling heavens, abash'd with fear, behold
Thy biting sword, thy mace adorned with gold!
Fly to the succour of a King distress'd,
Proud of thy love, with thy protection blest.
When o'er the nation dread misfortunes lower,
Thou art the refuge, thou the saving power.
The chiefs assembled claim thy patriot vows,
Give to thy glory all that life allows;
And while no whisper breathes the direful tale,
O, let thy Monarch's anxious prayers prevail."

Closing the fragrant page[19] o'ercome with dread,
The afflicted King to Giw, the warrior, said:--
"Go, bind the saddle on thy fleetest horse,
Outstrip the tempest in thy rapid course,
To Rustem swift his country's woes convey,
Too true art thou to linger on the way;
Speed, day and night--and not one instant wait,
Whatever hour may bring thee to his gate."

Followed no pause--to Giw enough was said,
Nor rest, nor taste of food, his speed delayed.
And when arrived, where Zabul's bowers exhale
Ambrosial sweets and scent the balmy gale,
The sentinel's loud voice in Rustem's ear,
Announced a messenger from Persia, near;
The Chief himself amidst his warriors stood,
Dispensing honours to the brave and good,
And soon as Giw had joined the martial ring,
(The sacred envoy of the Persian King),
He, with becoming loyalty inspired,
Asked what the monarch, what the state required;
But Giw, apart, his secret mission told--
The written page was speedily unrolled.

Struck with amazement, Rustem--"Now on earth
A warrior-knight of Sam's excelling worth?
Whence comes this hero of the prosperous star?
I know no Turk renowned, like him, in war;
He bears the port of Rustem too, 'tis said,
Like Sam, like Nariman, a warrior bred!
He cannot be my son, unknown to me;
Reason forbids the thought--it cannot be!
At Samengan, where once affection smiled,
To me Tahmineh bore her only child,
That was a daughter?" Pondering thus he spoke,
And then aloud--"Why fear the invader's yoke?
Why trembling shrink, by coward thoughts dismayed,
Must we not all in dust, at length, be laid?
But come, to Nirum's palace, haste with me,
And there partake the feast--from sorrow free;
Breathe, but awhile--ere we our toils renew,
And moisten the parched lip with needful dew.
Let plans of war another day decide,
We soon shall quell this youthful hero's pride.
The force of fire soon flutters and decays
When ocean, swelled by storms, its wrath displays.
What danger threatens! whence the dastard fear!
Rest, and at leisure share a warrior's cheer."

In vain the Envoy prest the Monarch's grief;
The matchless prowess of the stripling chief;
How brave Hujir had felt his furious hand;
What thickening woes beset the shuddering land.
But Rustem, still, delayed the parting day,
And mirth and feasting rolled the hours away;
Morn following morn beheld the banquet bright,
Music and wine prolonged the genial rite;
Rapt by the witchery of the melting strain,
No thought of Kaus touch'd his swimming brain.[20]

The trumpet's clang, on fragrant breezes borne,
Now loud salutes the fifth revolving morn;
The softer tones which charm'd the jocund feast,
And all the noise of revelry, had ceased,
The generous horse, with rich embroidery deckt,
Whose gilded trappings sparkling light reflect,
Bears with majestic port the Champion brave,
And high in air the victor-banners wave.
Prompt at the martial call, Zuara leads
His veteran troops from Zabul's verdant meads.[21]

Ere Rustem had approached his journey's end,
Tus, Gudarz, Gushwad, met their champion-friend
With customary honours; pleased to bring
The shield of Persia to the anxious King.
But foaming wrath the senseless monarch swayed;
His friendship scorned, his mandate disobeyed,
Beneath dark brows o'er-shadowing deep, his eye
Red gleaming shone, like lightning through the sky
And when the warriors met his sullen view,
Frowning revenge, still more enraged he grew:--
Loud to the Envoy thus he fiercely cried:--
"Since Rustem has my royal power defied,
Had I a sword, this instant should his head
Roll on the ground; but let him now be led
Hence, and impaled alive."[22] Astounded Giw
Shrunk from such treatment of a knight so true;
But this resistance added to the flame,
And both were branded with revolt and shame;
Both were condemned, and Tus, the stern decree
Received, to break them on the felon-tree.
Could daring insult, thus deliberate given,
Escape the rage of one to frenzy driven?
No, from his side the nerveless Chief was flung,
Bent to the ground. Away the Champion sprung;
Mounted his foaming horse, and looking round--
His boiling wrath thus rapid utterance found:--
"Ungrateful King, thy tyrant acts disgrace
The sacred throne, and more, the human race;
Midst clashing swords thy recreant life I saved,
And am I now by Tus contemptuous braved?[23]
On me shall Tus, shall Kaus dare to frown?
On me, the bulwark of the regal crown?
Wherefore should fear in Rustem's breast have birth,
Kaus, to me, a worthless clod of earth!
Go, and thyself Sohrab's invasion stay,
Go, seize the plunderers growling o'er their prey!
Wherefore to others give the base command?
Go, break him on the tree with thine own hand.
Know, thou hast roused a warrior, great and free,
Who never bends to tyrant Kings like thee!
Was not this untired arm triumphant seen,
In Misser, Rum, Mazinderan, and Chin!
And must I shrink at thy imperious nod!
Slave to no Prince, I only bow to God.
Whatever wrath from thee, proud King! may fall,
For thee I fought, and I deserve it all.
The regal sceptre might have graced my hand,
I kept the laws, and scorned supreme command.
When Kai-kobad and Alberz mountain strayed,
I drew him thence, and gave a warrior's aid;
Placed on his brows the long-contested crown,
Worn by his sires, by sacred right his own;
Strong in the cause, my conquering arms prevailed,
Wouldst thou have reign'd had Rustem's valour failed
When the White Demon raged in battle-fray,
Wouldst thou have lived had Rustem lost the day?"
Then to his friends: "Be wise, and shun your fate,
Fly the wide ruin which o'erwhelms the state;
The conqueror comes--the scourge of great and small,
And vultures, following fast, will gorge on all.
Persia no more its injured Chief shall view"--
He said, and sternly from the court withdrew.

The warriors now, with sad forebodings wrung,
Torn from that hope to which they proudly clung,
On Gudarz rest, to soothe with gentle sway,
The frantic King, and Rustem's wrath allay.
With bitter grief they wail misfortune's shock,
No shepherd now to guard the timorous flock.
Gudarz at length, with boding cares imprest,
Thus soothed the anger in the royal breast.
"Say, what has Rustem done, that he should be
Impaled upon the ignominious tree?
Degrading thought, unworthy to be bred
Within a royal heart, a royal head.
Hast thou forgot when near the Caspian-wave,
Defeat and ruin had appalled the brave,
When mighty Rustem struck the dreadful blow,
And nobly freed thee from the savage foe?
Did Demons huge escape his flaming brand?
Their reeking limbs bestrew'd the slippery strand.
Shall he for this resign his vital breath?
What! shall the hero's recompense be death?
But who will dare a threatening step advance,
What earthly power can bear his withering glance?
Should he to Zabul fired with wrongs return,
The plunder'd land will long in sorrow mourn!
This direful presage all our warriors feel,
For who can now oppose the invader's steel;
Thus is it wise thy champion to offend,
To urge to this extreme thy warrior-friend?
Remember, passion ever scorns control,
And wisdom's mild decrees should rule a Monarch's soul."[24]
Kaus, relenting, heard with anxious ear,
And groundless wrath gave place to shame and fear;
"Go then," he cried, "his generous aid implore,
And to your King the mighty Chief restore!"

When Gudarz rose, and seized his courser's rein,
A crowd of heroes followed in his train.
To Rustem, now (respectful homage paid),
The royal prayer he anxious thus conveyed.
"The King, repentant, seeks thy aid again,
Grieved to the heart that he has given thee pain;
But though his anger was unjust and strong,
Thy country still is guiltless of the wrong,
And, therefore, why abandoned thus by thee?
Thy help the King himself implores through me."
Rustem rejoined: "Unworthy the pretence,
And scorn and insult all my recompense?
Must I be galled by his capricious mood?
I, who have still his firmest champion stood?
But all is past, to heaven alone resigned,
No human cares shall more disturb my mind!"
Then Gudarz thus (consummate art inspired
His prudent tongue, with all that zeal required);
"When Rustem dreads Sohrab's resistless power,
Well may inferiors fly the trying hour!
The dire suspicion now pervades us all,
Thus, unavenged, shall beauteous Persia fall!
Yet, generous still, avert the lasting shame,
O, still preserve thy country's glorious fame!
Or wilt thou, deaf to all our fears excite,
Forsake thy friends, and shun the pending fight?
And worse, O grief! in thy declining days,
Forfeit the honours of thy country's praise?"
This artful censure set his soul on fire,
But patriot firmness calm'd his burning ire;
And thus he said--"Inured to war's alarms,
Did ever Rustem shun the din of arms?
Though frowns from Kaus I disdain to bear,
My threatened country claims a warrior's care."
He ceased, and prudent joined the circling throng,
And in the public good forgot the private wrong.

From far the King the generous Champion viewed,
And rising, mildly thus his speech pursued:--
"Since various tempers govern all mankind,
Me, nature fashioned of a froward mind;[25]
And what the heavens spontaneously bestow,
Sown by their bounty must for ever grow.
The fit of wrath which burst within me, soon
Shrunk up my heart as thin as the new moon;[26]
Else had I deemed thee still my army's boast,
Source of my regal power, beloved the most,
Unequalled. Every day, remembering thee,
I drain the wine cup, thou art all to me;
I wished thee to perform that lofty part,
Claimed by thy valour, sanctioned by my heart;
Hence thy delay my better thoughts supprest,
And boisterous passions revelled in my breast;
But when I saw thee from my Court retire
In wrath, repentance quenched my burning ire.
O, let me now my keen contrition prove,
Again enjoy thy fellowship and love:
And while to thee my gratitude is known,
Still be the pride and glory of my throne."

Rustem, thus answering said:--"Thou art the King,
Source of command, pure honour's sacred spring;
And here I stand to follow thy behest,
Obedient ever--be thy will expressed,
And services required--Old age shall see
My loins still bound in fealty to thee."

To this the King:--"Rejoice we then to-day,
And on the morrow marshal our array."
The monarch quick commands the feast of joy,
And social cares his buoyant mind employ,
Within a bower, beside a crystal spring,[27]
Where opening flowers, refreshing odours fling,
Cheerful he sits, and forms the banquet scene,
In regal splendour on the crowded green;
And as around he greets his valiant bands,
Showers golden presents from his bounteous hands;[28]
Voluptuous damsels trill the sportive lay,
Whose sparkling glances beam celestial day;
Fill'd with delight the heroes closer join,
And quaff till midnight cups of generous wine.

Soon as the Sun had pierced the veil of night,
And o'er the prospect shed his earliest light,
Kaus, impatient, bids the clarions sound,
The sprightly notes from hills and rocks rebound;
His treasure gates are opened:--and to all
A largess given; obedient to the call,
His subjects gathering crowd the mountain's brow,
And following thousands shade the vales below;
With shields, in armor, numerous legions bend;
And troops of horse the threatening lines extend.
Beneath the tread of heroes fierce and strong,
By war's tumultuous fury borne along,
The firm earth shook: the dust, in eddies driven,
Whirled high in air, obscured the face of heaven;
Nor earth, nor sky appeared--all, seeming lost,
And swallowed up by that wide-spreading host.
The steely armour glitter'd o'er the fields,[29]
And lightnings flash'd from gold emblazoned shields;
Thou wouldst have said, the clouds had burst in showers,
Of sparkling amber o'er the martial powers.[30]
Thus, close embodied, they pursued their way,
And reached the Barrier-fort in terrible array.

The legions of Turan, with dread surprise,
Saw o'er the plain successive myriads rise;
And showed them to Sohrab; he, mounting high
The fort, surveyed them with a fearless eye;
To Human, who, with withering terror pale,
Had marked their progress through the distant vale,
He pointed out the sight, and ardent said:--
"Dispel these woe-fraught broodings from thy head,
I wage the war, Afrasiyab! for thee,
And make this desert seem a rolling sea."
Thus, while amazement every bosom quell'd,
Sohrab, unmoved, the coming storm beheld,
And boldly gazing on the camp around,
Raised high the cup with wine nectareous crowned:
O'er him no dreams of woe insidious stole,
No thought but joy engaged his ardent soul.

The Persian legions had restrained their course,
Tents and pavilions, countless foot and horse,
Clothed all the spacious plain, and gleaming threw
Terrific splendours on the gazer's view.
But when the Sun had faded in the west,
And night assumed her ebon-coloured vest,
The mighty Chief approached the sacred throne,
And generous thus made danger all his own:
"The rules of war demand a previous task,
To watch this dreadful foe I boldly ask;
With wary step the wondrous youth to view,
And mark the heroes who his path pursue."
The King assents: "The task is justly thine,
Favourite of heaven, inspired by power divine."
In Turkish habit, secretly arrayed,
The lurking Champion wandered through the shade
And, cautious, standing near the palace gate,
Saw how the chiefs were ranged in princely state.

What time Sohrab his thoughts to battle turned,
And for the first proud fruits of conquest burned,
His mother called a warrior to his aid,
And Zinda-ruzm his sister's call obeyed.
To him Tahmineh gave her only joy,
And bade him shield the bold adventurous boy:
"But, in the dreadful strife, should danger rise,
Present my child before his father's eyes!
By him protected, war may rage in vain,
Though he may never bless these arms again!"
This guardian prince sat on the stripling's right,
Viewing the imperial banquet with delight.
Human and Barman, near the hero placed,
In joyous pomp the full assembly graced;
A hundred valiant Chiefs begirt the throne,
And, all elate, were chaunting his renown.
Closely concealed, the gay and splendid scene,
Rustem contemplates with astonished mien;
When Zind, retiring, marks the listener nigh,
Watching the festal train with curious eye;
And well he knew, amongst his Tartar host,
Such towering stature not a Chief could boast--
"What spy is here, close shrouded by the night?
Art thou afraid to face the beams of light?"
But scarcely from his lips these words had past,
Ere, fell'd to earth, he groaning breathed his last;
Unseen he perish'd, fate decreed the blow,
To add fresh keenness to a parent's woe.

Meantime Sohrab, perceiving the delay
In Zind's return, looked round him with dismay;
The seat still vacant--but the bitter truth,
Full soon was known to the distracted youth;
Full soon he found that Zinda-ruzm was gone,
His day of feasting and of glory done;
Speedful towards the fatal spot he ran,
Where slept in bloody vest the slaughtered man.

The lighted torches now displayed the dead,
Stiff on the ground his graceful limbs were spread;
Sad sight to him who knew his guardian care,
Now doom'd a kinsman's early loss to bear;
Anguish and rage devour his breast by turns,
He vows revenge, then o'er the warrior mourns:
And thus exclaims to each afflicted Chief:--
"No time, to-night, my friends, for useless grief;
The ravenous wolf has watched his helpless prey,
Sprung o'er the fold, and borne its flower away;
But if the heavens my lifted arm befriend,
Upon the guilty shall my wrath descend--
Unsheathed, this sword shall dire revenge pursue,
And Persian blood the thirsty land bedew."
Frowning he paused, and check'd the spreading woe,
Resumed the feast, and bid the wine-cup flow!

The valiant Giw was sentinel that night,
And marking dimly by the dubious light,
A warrior form approach, he claps his hands,
With naked sword and lifted shield he stands,
To front the foe; but Rustem now appears,
And Giw the secret tale astonished hears;
From thence the Champion on the Monarch waits.
The power and splendour of Sohrab relates:
"Circled by Chiefs this glorious youth was seen,
Of lofty stature and majestic mien;
No Tartar region gave the hero birth:
Some happier portion of the spacious earth;
Tall, as the graceful cypress he appears;
Like Sam, the brave, his warrior-front he rears!"
Then having told how, while the banquet shone,
Unhappy Zind had sunk, without a groan;
He forms his conquering bands in close array,
And, cheer'd by wine, awaits the coming day.

When now the Sun his golden buckler raised,
And genial light through heaven diffusive blazed,
Sohrab in mail his nervous limbs attired,
For dreadful wrath his soul to vengeance fired;
With anxious haste he bent the yielding cord,
Ring within ring, more fateful than the sword;
Around his brows a regal helm he bound;
His dappled steed impatient stampt the ground.
Thus armed, ascending where the eye could trace
The hostile force, and mark each leader's place,
He called Hujir, the captive Chief addressed,
And anxious thus, his soul's desire expressed:
"A prisoner thou, if freedom's voice can charm,
And dungeon darkness fill thee with alarm,
That freedom merit, shun severest woe,
And truly answer what I ask to know!
If rigid truth thy ready speech attend,
Honours and wealth shall dignify my friend."

"Obedient to thy wish," Hujir replied,
"Truth thou shalt hear, whatever chance betide;
For what on earth to praise has better claim?
Falsehood but leads to sorrow and to shame!"

"Then say, what heroes lead the adverse host,
Where they command, what dignities they boast;
Say, where does Kaus hold his kingly state,
Where Tus, and Gudarz, on his bidding wait;
Giw, Gust'hem, and Bahram--all known to thee,
And where is mighty Rustem, where is he?
Look round with care, their names and power display
Or instant death shall end thy vital day."

"Where yonder splendid tapestries extend,
And o'er pavilions bright infolding bend,
A throne triumphal shines with sapphire rays,
And golden suns upon the banners blaze;
Full in the centre of the hosts--and round
The tent a hundred elephants are bound,
As if, in pomp, he mocked the power of fate;
There royal Kaus holds his kingly state.

"In yonder tent which numerous guards protect,
Where front and rear illustrious Chiefs collect;
Where horsemen wheeling seem prepared for fight,
Their golden armour glittering in the light;
Tus lifts his banners, deck'd with royal pride,
Feared by the brave, the soldier's friend and guide.[31]

"That crimson tent where spear-men frowning stand,
And steel-clad veterans form a threatening band,
Holds mighty Gudarz, famed for martial fire,
Of eighty valiant sons the valiant sire;
Yet strong in arms, he shuns inglorious ease,
His lion-banners floating in the breeze.

"But mark, that green pavilion; girt around
By Persian nobles, speaks the Chief renowned;
Fierce on the standard, worked with curious art,
A hideous dragon writhing seems to start;
Throned in his tent the warrior's form is seen,
Towering above the assembled host between!
A generous horse before him snorts and neighs,
The trembling earth the echoing sound conveys.
Like him no Champion ever met my eyes,
No horse like that for majesty and size;
What Chief illustrious bears a port so high?
Mark, how his standard flickers through the sky!"

Thus ardent spoke Sohrab. Hujir dismayed,
Paused ere reply the dangerous truth betrayed.
Trembling for Rustem's life the captive groaned;
Basely his country's glorious boast disowned,
And said the Chief from distant China came--
Sohrab abrupt demands the hero's name;
The name unknown, grief wrings his aching heart,
And yearning anguish speeds her venom'd dart;
To him his mother gave the tokens true,
He sees them all, and all but mock his view.
When gloomy fate descends in evil hour,
Can human wisdom bribe her favouring power?
Yet, gathering hope, again with restless mien
He marks the Chiefs who crowd the warlike scene.

"Where numerous heroes, horse and foot, appear,
And brazen trumpets thrill the listening ear,
Behold the proud pavilion of the brave!
With wolves emboss'd the silken banners wave.
The throne's bright gems with radiant lustre glow,
Slaves rank'd around with duteous homage bow.
What mighty Chieftain rules his cohorts there?
His name and lineage, free from guile, declare!"

"Giw, son of Gudarz, long a glorious name,
Whose prowess even transcends his father's fame."[32]

"Mark yonder tent of pure and dazzling white,
Whose rich brocade reflects a quivering light;
An ebon seat surmounts the ivory throne;
There frowns in state a warrior of renown.
The crowding slaves his awful nod obey,
And silver moons around his banners play;
What Chief, or Prince, has grasped the hostile sword?
Friburz, the son of Persia's mighty lord."
Again: "These standards show one champion more,
Upon their centre flames the savage boar;[33]
The saffron-hued pavilion bright ascends,
Whence many a fold of tasselled fringe depends;
Who there presides?"

"Guraz, from heroes sprung,
Whose praise exceeds the power of mortal tongue."

Thus, anxious, he explored the crowded field,
Nor once the secret of his birth revealed;[34]
Heaven will'd it so. Pressed down by silent grief,
Surrounding objects promised no relief.
This world to mortals still denies repose,
And life is still the scene of many woes.
Again his eye, instinctive turned, descried
The green pavilion, and the warrior's pride.
Again he cries: "O tell his glorious name;
Yon gallant horse declares the hero's fame!"
But false Hujir the aspiring hope repelled,
Crushed the fond wish, the soothing balm withheld,
"And why should I conceal his name from thee?
His name and title are unknown to me."

Then thus Sohrab--"In all that thou hast said,
No sign of Rustem have thy words conveyed;
Thou sayest he leads the Persian host to arms,
With him has battle lost its boisterous charms?
Of him no trace thy guiding hand has shown;
Can power supreme remain unmark'd, unknown?"

"Perhaps returned to Zabul's verdant bowers,
He undisturbed enjoys his peaceful hours,
The vernal banquets may constrain his stay,
And rural sports invite prolonged delay."

"Ah! say not thus; the Champion of the world,
Shrink from the kindling war with banners furled!
It cannot be! Say where his lightnings dart,
Show me the warrior, all thou know'st impart;
Treasures uncounted shall be thy reward,
Death changed to life, my friendship more than shared.
Dost thou not know what, in the royal ear,
The Mubid said--befitting Kings to hear?
'Untold, a secret is a jewel bright,
Yet profitless whilst hidden from the light;
But when revealed, in words distinctly given,
It shines refulgent as the sun through heaven.'"[35]

To him, Hujir evasive thus replies:
"Through all the extended earth his glory flies!
Whenever dangers round the nation close,
Rustem approaches, and repels its foes;
And shouldst thou see him mix in mortal strife,
Thou'dst think 'twere easier to escape with life
From tiger fell, or demon--or the fold
Of the chafed dragon, than his dreadful hold--
When fiercest battle clothes the fields with fire,
Before his rage embodied hosts retire!"

"And where didst thou encountering armies see?
Why Rustem's praise so proudly urge to me?
Let us but meet and thou shalt trembling know,
How fierce that wrath which bids my bosom glow:
If living flames express his boundless ire,
O'erwhelming waters quench consuming fire!
And deepest darkness, glooms of ten-fold night,
Fly from the piercing beams of radiant light."

Hujir shrunk back with undissembled dread,
And thus communing with himself, he said--
"Shall I, regardless of my country, guide
To Rustem's tent this furious homicide?
And witness there destruction to our host?
The bulwark of the land for ever lost!
What Chief can then the Tartar power restrain!
Kaus dethroned, the mighty Rustem slain!
Better a thousand deaths should lay me low,
Than, living, yield such triumph to the foe.
For in this struggle should my blood be shed,
No foul dishonour can pursue me, dead;
No lasting shame my father's age oppress,
Whom eighty sons of martial courage bless![36]
They for their brother slain, incensed will rise,
And pour their vengeance on my enemies."
Then thus aloud--"Can idle words avail?
Why still of Rustem urge the frequent tale?
Why for the elephant-bodied hero ask?
Thee, he will find--no uncongenial task.
Why seek pretences to destroy my life?
Strike, for no Rustem views th' unequal strife!"

Sohrab confused, with hopeless anguish mourned,
Back from the lofty walls he quick returned,
And stood amazed.

Now war and vengeance claim,
Collected thought and deeds of mighty name;
The jointed mail his vigorous body clasps,
His sinewy hand the shining javelin grasps;
Like a mad elephant he meets the foe,
His steed a moving mountain--deeply glow
His cheeks with passionate ardour, as he flies
Resistless onwards, and with sparkling eyes,
Full on the centre drives his daring horse--[37]
The yielding Persians fly his furious course;
As the wild ass impetuous springs away,
When the fierce lion thunders on his prey.
By every sign of strength and martial power,
They think him Rustem in his direst hour;
On Kaus now his proud defiance falls,
Scornful to him the stripling warrior calls:
"And why art thou misnamed of royal strain?
What work of thine befits the tented plain?
This thirsty javelin seeks thy coward breast;
Thou and thy thousands doomed to endless rest.
True to my oath, which time can never change,
On thee, proud King! I hurl my just revenge.
The blood of Zind inspires my burning hate,
And dire resentment hurries on thy fate;
Whom canst thou send to try the desperate strife?
What valiant Chief, regardless of his life?
Where now can Friburz, Tus, Giw, Gudarz, be,
And the world-conquering Rustem, where is he?"

No prompt reply from Persian lip ensued--
Then rushing on, with demon-strength endued,
Sohrab elate his javelin waved around,
And hurled the bright pavilion to the ground;
With horror Kaus feels destruction nigh,
And cries: "For Rustem's needful succour fly!
This frantic Turk, triumphant on the plain,
Withers the souls of all my warrior train."
That instant Tus the mighty Champion sought,
And told the deeds the Tartar Chief had wrought;
"'Tis ever thus, the brainless Monarch's due!
Shame and disaster still his steps pursue!"
This saying, from his tent he soon descried,
The wild confusion spreading far and wide;
And saddled Rakush--whilst, in deep dismay,
Girgin incessant cried--"Speed, speed, away."
Reham bound on the mace, Tus promptly ran,
And buckled on the broad Burgustuwan.
Rustem, meanwhile, the thickening tumult hears
And in his heart, untouched by human fears,
Says: "What is this, that feeling seems to stun!
This battle must be led by Ahirmun,[38]
The awful day of doom must have begun."
In haste he arms, and mounts his bounding steed,
The growing rage demands redoubled speed;
The leopard's skin he o'er his shoulders throws,
The regal girdle round his middle glows.[39]
High wave his glorious banners; broad revealed,
The pictured dragons glare along the field
Borne by Zuara. When, surprised, he views
Sohrab, endued with ample breast and thews,
Like Sam Suwar, he beckons him apart;
The youth advances with a gallant heart,
Willing to prove his adversary's might,
By single combat to decide the fight;
And eagerly, "Together brought," he cries,
"Remote from us be foemen, and allies,
And though at once by either host surveyed,
Ours be the strife which asks no mortal aid."

Rustem, considerate, view'd him o'er and o'er,
So wondrous graceful was the form he bore,
And frankly said: "Experience flows with age,
And many a foe has felt my conquering rage;
Much have I seen, superior strength and art
Have borne my spear thro' many a demon's heart;
Only behold me on the battle plain,
Wait till thou see'st this hand the war sustain,
And if on thee should changeful fortune smile,
Thou needst not fear the monster of the Nile![40]
But soft compassion melts my soul to save,
A youth so blooming with a mind so brave!"

The generous speech Sohrab attentive heard,
His heart expanding glowed at every word:
"One question answer, and in answering show,
That truth should ever from a warrior flow;
Art thou not Rustem, whose exploits sublime,
Endear his name thro' every distant clime?"

"I boast no station of exalted birth,
No proud pretensions to distinguished worth;
To him inferior, no such powers are mine,
No offspring I of Nirum's glorious line!"[41]

The prompt denial dampt his filial joy,
All hope at once forsook the Warrior-boy,
His opening day of pleasure, and the bloom
Of cherished life, immersed in shadowy gloom.
Perplexed with what his mother's words implied;--
A narrow space is now prepared, aside,
For single combat. With disdainful glance
Each boldly shakes his death-devoting lance,
And rushes forward to the dubious fight;
Thoughts high and brave their burning souls excite;
Now sword to sword; continuous strokes resound,
Till glittering fragments strew the dusty ground.
Each grasps his massive club with added force,[42]
The folding mail is rent from either horse;
It seemed as if the fearful day of doom
Had, clothed in all its withering terrors, come.
Their shattered corslets yield defence no more--
At length they breathe, defiled with dust and gore;
Their gasping throats with parching thirst are dry,
Gloomy and fierce they roll the lowering eye,
And frown defiance. Son and Father driven
To mortal strife! are these the ways of Heaven?
The various swarms which boundless ocean breeds,
The countless tribes which crop the flowery meads,
All know their kind, but hapless man alone
Has no instinctive feeling for his own!
Compell'd to pause, by every eye surveyed,
Rustem, with shame, his wearied strength betrayed;
Foil'd by a youth in battle's mid career,
His groaning spirit almost sunk with fear;
Recovering strength, again they fiercely meet;
Again they struggle with redoubled heat;
With bended bows they furious now contend;
And feather'd shafts in rattling showers descend;
Thick as autumnal leaves they strew the plain,
Harmless their points, and all their fury vain.
And now they seize each other's girdle-band;
Rustem, who, if he moved his iron hand,
Could shake a mountain, and to whom a rock
Seemed soft as wax, tried, with one mighty stroke,
To hurl him thundering from his fiery steed,
But Fate forbids the gallant youth should bleed;
Finding his wonted nerves relaxed, amazed
That hand he drops which never had been raised
Uncrowned with victory, even when demons fought,
And pauses, wildered with despairing thought.
Sohrab again springs with terrific grace,
And lifts, from saddle-bow, his ponderous mace;
With gather'd strength the quick-descending blow
Wounds in its fall, and stuns the unwary foe;
Then thus contemptuous: "All thy power is gone;
Thy charger's strength exhausted as thy own;
Thy bleeding wounds with pity I behold;
O seek no more the combat of the bold!"

Rustem to this reproach made no reply,
But stood confused--meanwhile, tumultuously
The legions closed; with soul-appalling force,
Troop rushed on troop, o'erwhelming man and horse;
Sohrab, incensed, the Persian host engaged,
Furious along the scattered lines he raged;
Fierce as a wolf he rode on every side,
The thirsty earth with streaming gore was dyed.
Midst the Turanians, then, the Champion sped,
And like a tiger heaped the fields with dead.
But when the Monarch's danger struck his thought,
Returning swift, the stripling youth he sought;
Grieved to the soul, the mighty Champion view'd
His hands and mail with Persian blood imbrued;
And thus exclaimed with lion-voice--"O say,
Why with the Persians dost thou war to-day?
Why not with me alone decide the fight,
Thou'rt like a wolf that seek'st the fold by night."

To this Sohrab his proud assent expressed--
And Rustem, answering, thus the youth addressed.
"Night-shadows now are thickening o'er the plain,
The morrow's sun must see our strife again;
In wrestling let us then exert our might!"
He said, and eve's last glimmer sunk in night

Thus as the skies a deeper gloom displayed,
The stripling's life was hastening into shade!

The gallant heroes to their tents retired,
The sweets of rest their wearied limbs required:
Sohrab, delighted with his brave career,
Describes the fight in Human's anxious ear:
Tells how he forced unnumbered Chiefs to yield,
And stood himself the victor of the field!
"But let the morrow's dawn," he cried, "arrive,
And not one Persian shall the day survive;
Meanwhile let wine its strengthening balm impart,
And add new zeal to every drooping heart."
The valiant Giw with Rustem pondering stood,
And, sad, recalled the scene of death and blood;
Grief and amazement heaved the frequent sigh,
And almost froze the crimson current dry.
Rustem, oppressed by Giw's desponding thought,
Amidst his Chiefs the mournful Monarch sought;
To him he told Sohrab's tremendous sway,
The dire misfortunes of this luckless day;
Told with what grasping force he tried, in vain,
To hurl the wondrous stripling to the plain:
"The whispering zephyr might as well aspire
To shake a mountain--such his strength and fire.
But night came on--and, by agreement, we
Must meet again to-morrow--who shall be
Victorious, Heaven knows only:--for by Heaven,
Victory or death to man is ever given."
This said, the King, o'erwhelmed in deep despair,
Passed the dread night in agony and prayer.

The Champion, silent, joined his bands at rest,
And spurned at length despondence from his breast;
Removed from all, he cheered Zuara's heart,
And nerved his soul to bear a trying part:--
"Ere early morning gilds the ethereal plain,
In martial order range my warrior-train;
And when I meet in all his glorious pride,
This valiant Turk whom late my rage defied,
Should fortune's smiles my arduous task requite,
Bring them to share the triumph of my might;
But should success the stripling's arm attend,
And dire defeat and death my glories end,
To their loved homes my brave associates guide;
Let bowery Zabul all their sorrows hide--
Comfort my venerable father's heart;
In gentlest words my heavy fate impart.
The dreadful tidings to my mother bear,
And soothe her anguish with the tenderest care;
Say, that the will of righteous Heaven decreed,
That thus in arms her mighty son should bleed.
Enough of fame my various toils acquired,
When warring demons, bathed in blood, expired.
Were life prolonged a thousand lingering years,
Death comes at last and ends our mortal fears;
Kirshasp, and Sam, and Nariman, the best
And bravest heroes, who have ever blest
This fleeting world, were not endued with power,
To stay the march of fate one single hour;
The world for them possessed no fixed abode,
The path to death's cold regions must be trod;
Then, why lament the doom ordained for all?
Thus Jemshid fell, and thus must Rustem fall."

When the bright dawn proclaimed the rising day,
The warriors armed, impatient of delay;
But first Sohrab, his proud confederate nigh,
Thus wistful spoke, as swelled the boding sigh--
"Now, mark my great antagonist in arms!
His noble form my filial bosom warms;
My mother's tokens shine conspicuous here,
And all the proofs my heart demands, appear;
Sure this is Rustem, whom my eyes engage!
Shall I, O grief! provoke my Father's rage?
Offended Nature then would curse my name,
And shuddering nations echo with my shame."
He ceased, then Human: "Vain, fantastic thought,
Oft have I been where Persia's Champion fought;
And thou hast heard, what wonders he performed,
When, in his prime, Mazinderan was stormed;
That horse resembles Rustem's, it is true,
But not so strong, nor beautiful to view."

Sohrab now buckles on his war attire,
His heart all softness, and his brain all fire;
Around his lips such smiles benignant played,
He seemed to greet a friend, as thus he said:--
"Here let us sit together on the plain,
Here, social sit, and from the fight refrain;
Ask we from heaven forgiveness of the past,
And bind our souls in friendship that may last;
Ours be the feast--let us be warm and free,
For powerful instinct draws me still to thee;
Fain would my heart in bland affection join,
Then let thy generous ardour equal mine;
And kindly say, with whom I now contend--
What name distinguished boasts my warrior-friend!
Thy name unfit for champion brave to hide,
Thy name so long, long sought, and still denied;
Say, art thou Rustem, whom I burn to know?
Ingenuous say, and cease to be my foe!"

Sternly the mighty Champion cried, "Away--
Hence with thy wiles--now practised to delay;
The promised struggle, resolute, I claim,
Then cease to move me to an act of shame."
Sohrab rejoined--"Old man! thou wilt not hear
The words of prudence uttered in thine ear;
Then, Heaven! look on."

Preparing for the shock,
Each binds his charger to a neighbouring rock;
And girds his loins, and rubs his wrists, and tries
Their suppleness and force, with angry eyes;
And now they meet--now rise, and now descend,
And strong and fierce their sinewy arms extend;
Wrestling with all their strength they grasp and strain,
And blood and sweat flow copious on the plain;
Like raging elephants they furious close;
Commutual wounds are given, and wrenching blows.
Sohrab now clasps his hands, and forward springs
Impatiently, and round the Champion clings;
Seizes his girdle belt, with power to tear
The very earth asunder; in despair
Rustem, defeated, feels his nerves give way,
And thundering falls. Sohrab bestrides his prey:
Grim as the lion, prowling through the wood,
Upon a wild ass springs, and pants for blood.
His lifted sword had lopt the gory head,
But Rustem, quick, with crafty ardour said:--
"One moment, hold! what, are our laws unknown?
A Chief may fight till he is twice o'erthrown;
The second fall, his recreant blood is spilt,
These are our laws, avoid the menaced guilt."

Proud of his strength, and easily deceived,
The wondering youth the artful tale believed;
Released his prey, and, wild as wind or wave,
Neglecting all the prudence of the brave,
Turned from the place, nor once the strife renewed,
But bounded o'er the plain and other cares pursued,
As if all memory of the war had died,
All thoughts of him with whom his strength was tried.

Human, confounded at the stripling's stay,
Went forth, and heard the fortune of the day;
Amazed to find the mighty Rustem freed,
With deepest grief he wailed the luckless deed.
"What! loose a raging lion from the snare,
And let him growling hasten to his lair?
Bethink thee well; in war, from this unwise,
This thoughtless act what countless woes may rise;
Never again suspend the final blow,
Nor trust the seeming weakness of a foe!"[43]
"Hence with complaint," the dauntless youth replied,
"To-morrow's contest shall his fate decide."

When Rustem was released, in altered mood
He sought the coolness of the murmuring flood;
There quenched his thirst; and bathed his limbs, and prayed,
Beseeching Heaven to yield its strengthening aid.
His pious prayer indulgent Heaven approved,
And growing strength through all his sinews moved;[44]
Such as erewhile his towering structure knew,
When his bold arm unconquered demons slew.
Yet in his mien no confidence appeared,
No ardent hope his wounded spirits cheered.

Again they met. A glow of youthful grace,
Diffused its radiance o'er the stripling's face,
And when he saw in renovated guise,
The foe so lately mastered; with surprise,
He cried--"What! rescued from my power, again
Dost thou confront me on the battle plain?
Or, dost thou, wearied, draw thy vital breath,
And seek, from warrior bold, the shaft of death?
Truth has no charms for thee, old man; even now,
Some further cheat may lurk upon thy brow;
Twice have I shown thee mercy, twice thy age
Hath been thy safety--twice it soothed my rage."
Then mild the Champion: "Youth is proud and vain!
The idle boast a warrior would disdain;
This aged arm perhaps may yet control,
The wanton fury that inflames thy soul!"

Again, dismounting, each the other viewed
With sullen glance, and swift the fight renewed;
Clenched front to front, again they tug and bend,
Twist their broad limbs as every nerve would rend;
With rage convulsive Rustem grasps him round;
Bends his strong back, and hurls him to the ground;
Him, who had deemed the triumph all his own;
But dubious of his power to keep him down,
Like lightning quick he gives the deadly thrust,
And spurns the Stripling weltering in the dust.
--Thus as his blood that shining steel imbrues,
Thine too shall flow, when Destiny pursues;[45]
For when she marks the victim of her power,
A thousand daggers speed the dying hour.
Writhing with pain Sohrab in murmurs sighed--
And thus to Rustem--"Vaunt not, in thy pride;
Upon myself this sorrow have I brought,
Thou but the instrument of fate--which wrought
My downfall; thou are guiltless--guiltless quite;
O! had I seen my father in the fight,
My glorious father! Life will soon be o'er,
And his great deeds enchant my soul no more!
Of him my mother gave the mark and sign,
For him I sought, and what an end is mine!
My only wish on earth, my constant sigh,
Him to behold, and with that wish I die.
But hope not to elude his piercing sight,
In vain for thee the deepest glooms of night;
Couldst thou through Ocean's depths for refuge fly,
Or midst the star-beams track the upper sky!
Rustem, with vengeance armed, will reach thee there,
His soul the prey of anguish and despair."

An icy horror chills the Champion's heart,
His brain whirls round with agonizing smart;
O'er his wan cheek no gushing sorrows flow,
Senseless he sinks beneath the weight of woe;
Relieved at length, with frenzied look, he cries:
"Prove thou art mine, confirm my doubting eyes!
For I am Rustem!" Piercing was the groan,
Which burst from his torn heart--as wild and lone,
He gazed upon him. Dire amazement shook
The dying youth, and mournful thus he spoke:
"If thou art Rustem, cruel is thy part,
No warmth paternal seems to fill thy heart;
Else hadst thou known me when, with strong desire,
I fondly claimed thee for my valiant sire;
Now from my body strip the shining mail,
Untie these bands, ere life and feeling fail;
And on my arm the direful proof behold!
Thy sacred bracelet of refulgent gold!
When the loud brazen drums were heard afar,
And, echoing round, proclaimed the pending war,
Whilst parting tears my mother's eyes o'erflowed,
This mystic gift her bursting heart bestowed:
'Take this,' she said, 'thy father's token wear,
And promised glory will reward thy care.'
The hour is come, but fraught with bitterest woe,
We meet in blood to wail the fatal blow."

The loosened mail unfolds the bracelet bright,
Unhappy gift! to Rustem's wildered sight,
Prostrate he falls--"By my unnatural hand,
My son, my son is slain--and from the land
Uprooted."--Frantic, in the dust his hair
He rends in agony and deep despair;
The western sun had disappeared in gloom,
And still, the Champion wept his cruel doom;
His wondering legions marked the long delay,
And, seeing Rakush riderless astray,
The rumour quick to Persia's Monarch spread,
And there described the mighty Rustem dead.
Kaus, alarmed, the fatal tidings hears;
His bosom quivers with increasing fears.
"Speed, speed, and see what has befallen to-day
To cause these groans and tears--what fatal fray!
If he be lost, if breathless on the ground,
And this young warrior, with the conquest crowned--
Then must I, humbled, from my kingdom torn,
Wander like Jemshid, through the world forlorn."[46]

The army roused, rushed o'er the dusty plain,
Urged by the Monarch to revenge the slain;
Wild consternation saddened every face,
Tus winged with horror sought the fatal place,
And there beheld the agonizing sight--
The murderous end of that unnatural fight.
Sohrab, still breathing, hears the shrill alarms,
His gentle speech suspends the clang of arms:
"My light of life now fluttering sinks in shade,
Let vengeance sleep, and peaceful vows be made.
Beseech the King to spare this Tartar host,
For they are guiltless, all to them is lost;
I led them on, their souls with glory fired,
While mad ambition all my thoughts inspired.
In search of thee, the world before my eyes,
War was my choice, and thou the sacred prize;
With thee, my sire! in virtuous league combined,
No tyrant King should persecute mankind.
That hope is past--the storm has ceased to rave--
My ripening honours wither in the grave;
Then let no vengeance on my comrades fall,
Mine was the guilt, and mine the sorrow, all;
How often have I sought thee--oft my mind
Figured thee to my sight--o'erjoyed to find
My mother's token; disappointment came,
When thou denied thy lineage and thy name;
Oh! still o'er thee my soul impassioned hung,
Still to my father fond affection clung!
But fate, remorseless, all my hopes withstood,
And stained thy reeking hands in kindred blood."

His faltering breath protracted speech denied:
Still from his eye-lids flowed a gushing tide;
Through Rustem's soul redoubled horror ran,
Heart-rending thoughts subdued the mighty man,
And now, at last, with joy-illumined eye,
The Zabul bands their glorious Chief descry;
But when they saw his pale and haggard look,
Knew from what mournful cause he gazed and shook,
With downcast mien they moaned and wept aloud;
While Rustem thus addressed the weeping crowd
"Here ends the war! let gentle peace succeed,
Enough of death, I--I have done the deed!"
Then to his brother, groaning deep, he said--
"O what a curse upon a parent's head!
But go--and to the Tartar say--no more,
Let war between us steep the earth with gore."
Zuara flew and wildly spoke his grief,
To crafty Human, the Turanian Chief,
Who, with dissembled sorrow, heard him tell
The dismal tidings which he knew too well;
"And who," he said, "has caused these tears to flow?
Who, but Hujir? He might have stayed the blow,
But when Sohrab his Father's banners sought;
He still denied that here the Champion fought;
He spread the ruin, he the secret knew,
Hence should his crime receive the vengeance due!"
Zuara, frantic, breathed in Rustem's ear,
The treachery of the captive Chief, Hujir;
Whose headless trunk had weltered on the strand,
But prayers and force withheld the lifted hand.
Then to his dying son the Champion turned,
Remorse more deep within his bosom burned;
A burst of frenzy fired his throbbing brain;
He clenched his sword, but found his fury vain;
The Persian Chiefs the desperate act represt,
And tried to calm the tumult in his breast:
Thus Gudarz spoke--"Alas! wert thou to give
Thyself a thousand wounds, and cease to live;
What would it be to him thou sorrowest o'er?
It would not save one pang--then weep no more;
For if removed by death, O say, to whom
Has ever been vouchsafed a different doom?
All are the prey of death--the crowned, the low,
And man, through life, the victim still of woe."
Then Rustem: "Fly! and to the King relate,
The pressing horrors which involve my fate;
And if the memory of my deeds e'er swayed
His mind, O supplicate his generous aid;
A sovereign balm he has whose wondrous power,
All wounds can heal, and fleeting life restore;[47]
Swift from his tent the potent medicine bring."
--But mark the malice of the brainless King!
Hard as the flinty rock, he stern denies
The healthful draught, and gloomy thus replies:
"Can I forgive his foul and slanderous tongue?
The sharp disdain on me contemptuous flung?
Scorned 'midst my army by a shameless boy,
Who sought my throne, my sceptre to destroy!
Nothing but mischief from his heart can flow,
Is it, then, wise to cherish such a foe?
The fool who warms his enemy to life,
Only prepares for scenes of future strife."

Gudarz, returning, told the hopeless tale--
And thinking Rustem's presence might prevail;
The Champion rose, but ere he reached the throne,
Sohrab had breathed the last expiring groan.

Now keener anguish rack'd the father's mind,
Reft of his son, a murderer of his kind;
His guilty sword distained with filial gore,
He beat his burning breast, his hair he tore;
The breathless corse before his shuddering view,
A shower of ashes o'er his head he threw;
"In my old age," he cried, "what have I done?
Why have I slain my son, my innocent son!
Why o'er his splendid dawning did I roll
The clouds of death--and plunge my burthened soul
In agony? My son! from heroes sprung;
Better these hands were from my body wrung;
And solitude and darkness, deep and drear,
Fold me from sight than hated linger here.
But when his mother hears, with horror wild,
That I have shed the life-blood of her child,
So nobly brave, so dearly loved, in vain,
How can her heart that rending shock sustain?"

Now on a bier the Persian warriors place
The breathless Youth, and shade his pallid face;
And turning from that fatal field away,
Move towards the Champion's home in long array.
Then Rustem, sick of martial pomp and show,
Himself the spring of all this scene of woe,
Doomed to the flames the pageantry he loved,
Shield, spear, and mace, so oft in battle proved;
Now lost to all, encompassed by despair;
His bright pavilion crackling blazed in air;
The sparkling throne the ascending column fed;
In smoking fragments fell the golden bed;
The raging fire red glimmering died away,
And all the Warrior's pride in dust and ashes lay.

Kaus, the King, now joins the mournful Chief,
And tries to soothe his deep and settled grief;
For soon or late we yield our vital breath,
And all our worldly troubles end in death!
"When first I saw him, graceful in his might,
He looked far other than a Tartar knight;
Wondering I gazed--now Destiny has thrown
Him on thy sword--he fought, and he is gone;
And should even Heaven against the earth be hurled,
Or fire inwrap in crackling flames the world,
That which is past--we never can restore,
His soul has travelled to some happier shore.
Alas! no good from sorrow canst thou reap,
Then wherefore thus in gloom and misery weep?"

But Rustem's mighty woes disdained his aid,
His heart was drowned in grief, and thus he said:
"Yes, he is gone! to me for ever lost!
O then protect his brave unguided host;
From war removed and this detested place,
Let them, unharmed, their mountain-wilds retrace;
Bid them secure my brother's will obey,
The careful guardian of their weary way,[48]
To where the Jihun's distant waters stray."
To this the King: "My soul is sad to see
Thy hopeless grief--but, since approved by thee,
The war shall cease--though the Turanian brand
Has spread dismay and terror through the land."

The King, appeased, no more with vengeance burned,
The Tartar legions to their homes returned;
The Persian warriors, gathering round the dead,
Grovelled in dust, and tears of sorrow shed;
Then back to loved Iran their steps the monarch led.

But Rustem, midst his native bands, remained,
And further rites of sacrifice maintained;
A thousand horses bled at his command,
And the torn drums were scattered o'er the sand;
And now through Zabul's deep and bowery groves,
In mournful pomp the sad procession moves.
The mighty Chief on foot precedes the bier;
His Warrior-friends, in grief assembled near:
The dismal cadence rose upon the gale,
And Zal astonished heard the piercing wail;
He and his kindred joined the solemn train;
Hung round the bier and wondering viewed the slain.
"There gaze, and weep!" the sorrowing Father said,
"For there, behold my glorious offspring dead!"
The hoary Sire shrunk backward with surprise,
And tears of blood o'erflowed his aged eyes;
And now the Champion's rural palace gate
Receives the funeral group in gloomy state;
Rudabeh loud bemoaned the Stripling's doom;
Sweet flower, all drooping in the hour of bloom,
His tender youth in distant bowers had past,
Sheltered at home he felt no withering blast;
In the soft prison of his mother's arms,
Secure from danger and the world's alarms.
O ruthless Fortune! flushed with generous pride,
He sought his sire, and thus unhappy, died.

Rustem again the sacred bier unclosed;
Again Sohrab to public view exposed;
Husbands, and wives, and warriors, old and young,
Struck with amaze, around the body hung,
With garments rent and loosely flowing hair;
Their shrieks and clamours filled the echoing air;
Frequent they cried: "Thus Sam the Champion slept!
Thus sleeps Sohrab!" Again they groaned, and wept.

Now o'er the corpse a yellow robe is spread,
The aloes bier is closed upon the dead;
And, to preserve the hapless hero's name,
Fragrant and fresh, that his unblemished fame
Might live and bloom through all succeeding days,
A mound sepulchral on the spot they raise,
Formed like a charger's hoof.

In every ear
The story has been told--and many a tear,
Shed at the sad recital. Through Turan,
Afrasiyab's wide realm, and Samengan,
Deep sunk the tidings--nuptial bower, and bed,
And all that promised happiness, had fled!

But when Tahmineh heard this tale of woe,
Think how a mother bore the mortal blow!
Distracted, wild, she sprang from place to place;
With frenzied hands deformed her beauteous face;
The musky locks her polished temples crowned.
Furious she tore, and flung upon the ground;
Starting, in agony of grief, she gazed--
Her swimming eyes to Heaven imploring raised;
And groaning cried: "Sole comfort of my life!
Doomed the sad victim of unnatural strife,
Where art thou now with dust and blood defiled?
Thou darling boy, my lost, my murdered child!
When thou wert gone--how, night and lingering day,
Did thy fond mother watch the time away;
For hope still pictured all I wished to see,
Thy father found, and thou returned to me,
Yes--thou, exulting in thy father's fame!
And yet, nor sire nor son, nor tidings, came:
How could I dream of this? ye met--but how?
That noble aspect--that ingenuous brow,
Moved not a nerve in him--ye met--to part,
Alas! the life-blood issuing from the heart
Short was the day which gave to me delight,
Soon, soon, succeeds a long and dismal night;
On whom shall now devolve my tender care?
Who, loved like thee, my bosom-sorrows share?
Whom shall I take to fill thy vacant place,
To whom extend a mother's soft embrace?
Sad fate! for one so young, so fair, so brave,
Seeking thy father thus to find a grave.
These arms no more shall fold thee to my breast,
No more with thee my soul be doubly blest;
No, drowned in blood thy lifeless body lies,
For ever torn from these desiring eyes;
Friendless, alone, beneath a foreign sky,
Thy mail thy death-clothes--and thy father, by;
Why did not I conduct thee on the way,
And point where Rustem's bright pavilion lay?
Thou hadst the tokens--why didst thou withhold
Those dear remembrances--that pledge of gold?
Hadst thou the bracelet to his view restored,
Thy precious blood had never stained his sword."

The strong emotion choked her panting breath,
Her veins seemed withered by the cold of death:
The trembling matrons hastening round her mourned,
With piercing cries, till fluttering life returned;
Then gazing up, distraught, she wept again,
And frantic, seeing 'midst her pitying train,
The favourite steed--now more than ever dear,
The hoofs she kissed, and bathed with many a tear;
Clasping the mail Sohrab in battle wore,
With burning lips she kissed it o'er and o'er;
His martial robes she in her arms comprest,
And like an infant strained them to her breast;
The reins, and trappings, club, and spear, were brought,
The sword, and shield, with which the Stripling fought,
These she embraced with melancholy joy,
In sad remembrance of her darling boy.
And still she beat her face, and o'er them hung,
As in a trance--or to them wildly clung--
Day after day she thus indulged her grief,
Night after night, disdaining all relief;
At length worn out--from earthly anguish riven,
The mother's spirit joined her child in Heaven.

THE STORY OF SAIAWUSH

Early one morning as the cock crew, Tus arose, and accompanied by Giw
and Gudarz and a company of horsemen, proceeded on a hunting excursion,
not far from the banks of the Jihun, where, after ranging about the
forest for some time, they happened to fall in with a damsel of extreme
beauty, with smiling lips, blooming cheeks, and fascinating mien. They
said to her:

"Never was seen so sweet a flower,
In garden, vale, or fairy bower;
The moon is on thy lovely face,
Thy cypress-form is full of grace;
But why, with charms so soft and meek,
Dost thou the lonely forest seek?"

She replied that her father was a violent man, and that she had left her
home to escape his anger. She had crossed the river Jihun, and had
travelled several leagues on foot, in consequence of her horse being too
much fatigued to bear her farther. She had at that time been three days
in the forest. On being questioned respecting her parentage, she said
her father's name was Shiwer, of the race of Feridun. Many sovereigns
had been suitors for her hand, but she did not approve of one of them.
At last he wanted to marry her to Poshang, the ruler of Turan, but she
refused him on account of his ugliness and bad temper! This she said was
the cause of her father's violence, and of her flight from home.

"But when his angry mood is o'er,
He'll love his daughter as before;
And send his horsemen far and near,
To take me to my mother dear;
Therefore, I would not further stray,
But here, without a murmur, stay."

The hearts of both Tus and Giw were equally inflamed with love for the
damsel, and each was equally determined to support his own pretensions,
in consequence of which a quarrel arose between them. At length it was
agreed to refer the matter to the king, and to abide by his decision.
When, however, the king beheld the lovely object of contention, he was
not disposed to give her to either claimant, but without hesitation took
her to himself, after having first ascertained that she was of
distinguished family and connection. In due time a son was born to him,
who was, according to the calculations of the astrologers, of wonderful
promise, and named Saiawush. The prophecies about his surprising
virtues, and his future renown, made Kaus anxious that justice should be
done to his opening talents, and he was highly gratified when Rustem
agreed to take him to Zabulistan, and there instruct him in all the
accomplishments which were suitable to his illustrious rank. He was
accordingly taught horsemanship and archery, how to conduct himself at
banquets, how to hunt with the falcon and the leopard, and made familiar
with the manners and duty of kings, and the hardy chivalry of the age.
His progress in the attainment of every species of knowledge and science
was surprising, and in hunting he never stooped to the pursuit of
animals inferior to the lion or the tiger. It was not long before the
youth felt anxious to pay a visit to his father, and Rustem willingly
complying with his wishes, accompanied his accomplished pupil to the
royal court, where they were both received with becoming distinction,
Saiawush having fulfilled Kaus's expectations in the highest degree, and
the king's gratitude to the champion being in proportion to the eminent
merit of his services on the interesting occasion. After this, however,
preceptors were continued to enlighten his mind seven years longer, and
then he was emancipated from further application and study.

One day Sudaveh, the daughter of the Shah of Hamaveran, happening to see
Saiawush sitting with his father, the beauty of his person made an
instantaneous impression on her heart,

The fire of love consumed her breast,
The thoughts of him denied her rest.
For him alone she pined in grief,
From him alone she sought relief,
And called him to her secret bower,
To while away the passing hour:
But Saiawush refused the call,
He would not shame his father's hall.

The enamoured Sudaveh, however, was not to be disappointed without
further effort, and on a subsequent day she boldly went to the king, and
praising the character and attainments of his son, proposed that he
should be united in marriage to one of the damsels of royal lineage
under her care. For the pretended purpose therefore of making his
choice, she requested he might be sent to the harem, to see all the
ladies and fix on one the most suited to his taste. The king approved of
the proposal, and intimated it to Saiawush; but Saiawush was modest,
timid, and bashful, and mentally suspected in this overture some
artifice of Sudaveh. He accordingly hesitated, but the king overcame his
scruples, and the youth at length repaired to the shubistan, as the
retired apartments of the women are called, with fear and trembling.
When he entered within the precincts of the sacred place, he was
surprised by the richness and magnificence of everything that struck his
sight. He was delighted with the company of beautiful women, and he
observed Sudaveh sitting on a splendid throne in an interior chamber,
like Heaven in beauty and loveliness, with a coronet on her head, and
her hair floating round her in musky ringlets. Seeing him she descended
gracefully, and clasping him in her arms, kissed his eyes and face with
such ardor and enthusiasm that he thought proper to retire from her
endearments and mix among the other damsels, who placed him on a golden
chair and kept him in agreeable conversation for some time. After this
pleasing interview he returned to the king, and gave him a very
favorable account of his reception, and the heavenly splendor of the
retirement, worthy of Jemshid, Feridun, or Husheng, which gladdened his
father's heart. Kaus repeated to him his wish that he would at once
choose one of the lights of the harem for his wife, as the astrologers
had prophesied on his marriage the birth of a prince. But Saiawush
endeavored to excuse himself from going again to Sudaveh's apartments.
The king smiled at his weakness, and assured him that Sudaveh was alone
anxious for his happiness, upon which the youth found himself again in
her power. She was surrounded by the damsels as before, but, whilst his
eyes were cast down, they shortly disappeared, leaving him and the
enamoured Sudaveh together. She soon approached him, and lovingly
said:--

"O why the secret keep from one,
Whose heart is fixed on thee alone!
Say who thou art, from whom descended,
Some Peri with a mortal blended.
For every maid who sees that face,
That cypress-form replete with grace,
Becomes a victim to the wiles
Which nestle in those dimpled smiles;
Becomes thy own adoring slave,
Whom nothing but thy love can save."

To this Saiawush made no reply. The history of the adventure of Kaus at
Hamaveran, and what the king and his warriors endured in consequence of
the treachery of the father of Sudaveh, flashed upon his mind. He
therefore was full of apprehension, and breathed not a word in answer to
her fondness. Sudaveh observing his silence and reluctance, threw away
from herself the veil of modesty,

And said: "O be my own, for I am thine,
And clasp me in thy arms!" And then she sprang
To the astonished boy, and eagerly
Kissed his deep crimsoned cheek, which filled his soul
With strange confusion. "When the king is dead,
O take me to thyself; see how I stand,
Body and soul devoted unto thee."
In his heart he said: "This never can be:
This is a demon's work--shall I be treacherous?
What! to my own dear father? Never, never;
I will not thus be tempted by the devil;
Yet must I not be cold to this wild woman,
For fear of further folly."

Saiawush then expressed his readiness to be united in marriage to her
daughter, and to no other; and when this intelligence was conveyed to
Kaus by Sudaveh herself, His Majesty was extremely pleased, and
munificently opened his treasury on the happy occasion. But Sudaveh
still kept in view her own design, and still laboring for its success,
sedulously read her own incantations to prevent disappointment, at any
rate to punish the uncomplying youth if she failed. On another day she
sent for him, and exclaimed:--

"I cannot now dissemble; since I saw thee
I seem to be as dead--my heart all withered.
Seven years have passed in unrequited love--
Seven long, long years. O! be not still obdurate,
But with the generous impulse of affection,
Oh, bless my anxious spirit, or, refusing,
Thy life will be in peril; thou shalt die!"
"Never," replied the youth; "O, never, never;
Oh, ask me not, for this can never be."

Saiawush then rose to depart precipitately, but Sudaveh observing him,
endeavored to cling round him and arrest his flight. The endeavor,
however, was fruitless; and finding at length her situation desperate,
she determined to turn the adventure into her own favor, by accusing
Saiawush of an atrocious outrage on her own person and virtue. She
accordingly tore her dress, screamed aloud, and rushed out of her
apartment to inform Kaus of the indignity she had suffered. Among her
women the most clamorous lamentations arose, and echoed on every side.
The king, on hearing that Saiawush had preferred Sudaveh to her
daughter, and that he had meditated so abominable an offence, thought
that death alone could expiate his crime. He therefore summoned him to
his presence; but satisfied that it would be difficult, if not
impossible, to ascertain the truth of the case from either party
concerned, he had recourse to a test which he thought would be
infallible and conclusive. He first smelt the hands of Saiawush, and
then his garments, which had the scent of rose-water; and then he took
the garments of Sudaveh, which, on the contrary, had a strong flavor of
wine and musk. Upon this discovery, the king resolved on the death of
Sudaveh, being convinced of the falsehood of the accusation she had made
against his son. But when his indignation subsided, he was induced on
various accounts to forego that resolution. Yet he said to her, "I am
sure that Saiawush is innocent, but let that remain concealed."--Sudaveh,
however, persisted in asserting his guilt, and continually urged him to
punish the reputed offender, but without being attended to.

At length he resolved to ascertain the innocence of Saiawush by the
ordeal of fire; and the fearless youth prepared to undergo the terrible
trial to which he was sentenced, telling his father to be under no
alarm.

"The truth (and its reward I claim),
Will bear me safe through fiercest flame."

A tremendous fire was accordingly lighted on the adjacent plain, which
blazed to an immense distance. The youth was attired in his golden
helmet and a white robe, and mounted on a black horse. He put up a
prayer to the Almighty for protection, and then rushed amidst the
conflagration, as collectedly as if the act had been entirely free from
peril. When Sudaveh heard the confused exclamations that were uttered at
that moment, she hurried upon the terrace of the palace and witnessed
the appalling sight, and in the fondness of her heart, wished even that
she could share his fate, the fate of him of whom she was so deeply
enamoured. The king himself fell from his throne in horror on seeing him
surrounded and enveloped in the flames, from which there seemed no
chance of extrication; but the gallant youth soon rose up, like the moon
from the bursting element, and went through the ordeal unharmed and
untouched by the fire. Kaus, on coming to his senses, rejoiced
exceedingly on the happy occasion, and his severest anger was directed
against Sudaveh, whom he now determined to put to death, not only for
her own guilt, but for exposing his son to such imminent danger. The
noble youth, however, interceded for her. Sudaveh, notwithstanding,
still continued to practise her charms and incantations in secret, to
the end that Saiawush might be put out of the way; and in this pursuit
she was indeed indefatigable.

Suddenly intelligence was received that Afrasiyab had assembled another
army, for the purpose of making an irruption into Iran; and Kaus, seeing
that a Tartar could neither be bound by promise nor oath, resolved that
he would on this occasion take the field himself, penetrate as far as
Balkh, and seizing the country, make an example of the inhabitants. But
Saiawush perceiving in this prospect of affairs an opportunity of
becoming free from the machinations and witchery of Sudaveh, earnestly
requested to be employed, adding that, with the advice and bravery of
Rustem, he would be sure of success. The king referred the matter to
Rustem, who candidly declared that there was no necessity whatever for
His Majesty proceeding personally to the war; and upon this assurance he
threw open his treasury, and supplied all the resources of the empire to
equip the troops appointed to accompany them. After one month the army
marched toward Balkh, the point of attack.

On the other side Gersiwaz, the ruler of Balghar, joined the Tartar
legions at Balkh, commanded by Barman, who both sallied forth to oppose
the Persian host, and after a conflict of three days were defeated, and
obliged to abandon the fort. When the accounts of this calamity reached
Afrasiyab, he was seized with the utmost terror, which was increased by
a dreadful dream. He thought he was in a forest abounding with serpents,
and that the air was darkened by the appearance of countless eagles. The
ground was parched up with heat, and a whirlwind hurled down his tent
and overthrew his banners. On every side flowed a river of blood, and
the whole of his army had been defeated and butchered in his sight. He
was afterwards taken prisoner, and ignominiously conducted to Kaus, in
whose company he beheld a gallant youth, not more than fourteen years of
age, who, the moment he saw him, plunged a dagger in his loins, and with
the scream of agony produced by the wound, he awoke. Gersiwaz had in the
meantime returned with the remnant of his force; and being informed of
these particulars, endeavored to console Afrasiyab, by assuring him that
the true interpretation of dreams was the reverse of appearances. But
Afrasiyab was not to be consoled in this manner. He referred to his
astrologers, who, however, hesitated, and were unwilling to afford an
explanation of the mysterious vision. At length one of them, upon the
solicited promise that the king would not punish him for divulging the
truth, described the nature of the warning implied in what had been
witnessed.

"And now I throw aside the veil,
Which hides the darkly shadowed tale.
Led by a prince of prosperous star,
The Persian legions speed to war,
And in his horoscope we scan
The lordly victor of Turan.
If thou shouldst to the conflict rush,
Opposed to conquering Saiawush,
Thy Turkish cohorts will be slain,
And all thy saving efforts vain.
For if he, in the threatened strife,
Should haply chance to lose his life;
Thy country's fate will be the same,
Stripped of its throne and diadem."

Afrasiyab was satisfied with this interpretation, and felt the prudence
of avoiding a war so pregnant with evil consequences to himself and his
kingdom. He therefore deputed Gersiwaz to the headquarters of Saiawush,
with splendid presents, consisting of horses richly caparisoned, armor,
swords, and other costly articles, and a written dispatch, proposing a
termination to hostilities.

In the meantime Saiawush was anxious to pursue the enemy across the
Jihun, but was dissuaded by his friends. When Gersiwaz arrived on his
embassy he was received with distinction, and the object of his mission
being understood, a secret council was held upon what answer should be
given. It was then deemed proper to demand: first, one hundred
distinguished heroes as hostages; and secondly, the restoration of all
the provinces which the Turanians had taken from Iran. Gersiwaz sent
immediately to Afrasiyab to inform him of the conditions required, and
without the least delay they were approved. A hundred warriors were soon
on their way; and Bokhara, and Samerkand, and Haj, and the Punjab, were
faithfully delivered over to Saiawush. Afrasiyab himself retired towards
Gungduz, saying, "I have had a terrible dream, and I will surrender
whatever may be required from me, rather than go to war."

The negotiations being concluded, Saiawush sent a letter to his father
by the hands of Rustem. Rumor, however, had already told Kaus of
Afrasiyab's dream, and the terror he had been thrown into in
consequence. The astrologers in his service having prognosticated from
it the certain ruin of the Turanian king, the object of Rustem's mission
was directly contrary to the wishes of Kaus; but Rustem contended that
the policy was good, and the terms were good, and he thereby incurred
His Majesty's displeasure. On this account Kaus appointed Tus the leader
of the Persian army, and commanded him to march against Afrasiyab,
ordering Saiawush at the same time to return, and bring with him his
hundred hostages. At this command Saiawush was grievously offended, and
consulted with his chieftains, Bahram, and Zinga, and Shaweran, on the
fittest course to be pursued, saying, "I have pledged my word to the
fulfilment of the terms, and what will the world say if I do not keep my
faith?" The chiefs tried to quiet his mind, and recommended him to write
again to Kaus, expressing his readiness to renew the war, and return the
hundred hostages. But Saiawush was in a different humor, and thought as
Tus had been actually appointed to the command of the Persian army, it
would be most advisable for him to abandon his country and join
Afrasiyab. The chiefs, upon hearing this singular resolution,
unanimously attempted to dissuade him from pursuing so wild a course as
throwing himself into the power of his enemy; but he was deaf to their
entreaties, and in the stubbornness of his spirit, wrote to Afrasiyab,
informing him that Kaus had refused to ratify the treaty of peace, that
he was compelled to return the hostages, and even himself to seek
protection in Turan from the resentment of his father, the warrior Tus
having been already entrusted with the charge of the army. This
unexpected intelligence excited considerable surprise in the mind of
Afrasiyab, but he had no hesitation in selecting the course to be
followed. The ambassadors, Zinga and Shaweran, were soon furnished with
a reply, which was to this effect:--"I settled the terms of peace with
thee, not with thy father. With him I have nothing to do. If thy choice
be retirement and tranquillity, thou shalt have a peaceful and
independent province allotted to thee; but if war be thy object, I will
furnish thee with a large army: thy father is old and infirm, and with
the aid of Rustem, Persia will be an easy conquest." Having thus
obtained the promised favor and support of Afrasiyab, Saiawush gave in
charge to Bahram the city of Balkh, the army and treasure, in order that
they might be delivered over to Tus on his arrival; and taking with him
three hundred chosen horsemen, passed the Jihun, in progress to the
court of Afrasiyab. On taking this decisive step, he again wrote to
Kaus, saying:--

"From my youth upward I have suffered wrong.
At first Sudaveh, false and treacherous,
Sought to destroy my happiness and fame;
And thou hadst nearly sacrificed my life
To glut her vengeance. The astrologers
Were all unheeded, who pronounced me innocent,
And I was doomed to brave devouring fire,
To testify that I was free from guilt;
But God was my deliverer! Victory now
Has marked my progress. Balkh, and all its spoils,
Are mine, and so reduced the enemy,
That I have gained a hundred hostages,
To guarantee the peace which I have made;
And what my recompense! a father's anger,
Which takes me from my glory. Thus deprived
Of thy affection, whither can I fly?
Be it to friend or foe, the will of fate
Must be my only guide--condemned by thee."

The reception of Saiawush by Afrasiyab was warm and flattering. From the
gates of the city to the palace, gold and incense were scattered over
his head in the customary manner, and exclamations of welcome uttered on
every side.

"Thy presence gives joy to the land,
Which awaits thy command;
It is thine! it is thine!
All the chiefs of the state have assembled to meet thee,
All the flowers of the land are in blossom to greet thee!"

The youth was placed on a golden throne next to Afrasiyab, and a
magnificent banquet prepared in honor of the stranger, and music and the
songs of beautiful women enlivened the festive scene. They chanted the
praises of Saiawush, distinguished, as they said, among men for three
things: first, for being of the line of Kai-kobad; secondly, for his
faith and honor; and, thirdly, for the wonderful beauty of his person,
which had gained universal love and admiration. The favorable sentiments
which characterized the first introduction of Saiawush to Afrasiyab
continued to prevail, and indeed the king of Turan seemed to regard him
with increased attachment and friendship, as the time passed away, and
showed him all the respect and honor to which his royal birth would have
entitled him in his own country. After the lapse of a year, Piran-wisah,
one of Afrasiyab's generals, said to him: "Young prince, thou art now
high in the favor of the king, and at a great distance from Persia, and
thy father is old; would it not therefore be better for thee to marry
and take up thy residence among us for life?" The suggestion was a
rational one, and Saiawush readily expressed his acquiescence;
accordingly, the lovely Gulshaher, who was also named Jarira, having
been introduced to him, he was delighted with her person, and both
consenting to a union, the marriage ceremony was immediately performed.

And many a warm delicious kiss,
Told how he loved the wedded bliss.

Some time after this union, Piran suggested another alliance, for the
purpose of strengthening his political interest and power, and this was
with Ferangis, the daughter of Afrasiyab. But Saiawush was so devoted to
Gulshaher that he first consulted with her on the subject, although the
hospitality and affection of the king constituted such strong claims on
his gratitude that refusal was impossible. Gulshaher, however, was a
heroine, and willingly sacrificed her own feelings for the good of
Saiawush, saying she would rather condescend to be the very handmaid of
Ferangis than that the happiness and prosperity of her lord should be
compromised. The second marriage accordingly took place, and Afrasiyab
was so pleased with the match that he bestowed on the bride and her
husband the sovereignty of Khoten, together with countless treasure in
gold, and a great number of horses, camels, and elephants. In a short
time they proceeded to the seat of the new government.

Meanwhile Kaus suffered the keenest distress and sorrow when he heard of
the flight of Saiawush into Turan, and Rustem felt such strong
indignation at the conduct of the king that he abruptly quitted the
court, without permission, and retired to Sistan. Kaus thus found
himself in an embarrassed condition, and deemed it prudent to recall
both Tus and the army from Balkh, and relinquish further hostile
measures against Afrasiyab.

The first thing that Saiawush undertook after his arrival at Khoten, was
to order the selection of a beautiful site for his residence, and Piran
devoted his services to fulfil that object, exploring all the provinces,
hills, and dales, on every side. At last he discovered a beautiful spot,
at the distance of about a month's journey, which combined all the
qualities and advantages required by the anxious prince. It was situated
on a mountain, and surrounded by scenery of exquisite richness and
variety. The trees were fresh and green, birds warbled on every spray,
transparent rivulets murmured through the meadows, the air was neither
oppressively hot in summer, nor cold in winter, so that the temperature,
and the attractive objects which presented themselves at every glance,
seemed to realize the imagined charms and fascinations of Paradise. The
inhabitants enjoyed perpetual health, and every breeze was laden with
music and perfume. So lovely a place could not fail to yield pleasure to
Saiawush, who immediately set about building a palace there, and
garden-temples, in which he had pictures painted of the most remarkable
persons of his time, and also the portraits of ancient kings. The walls
were decorated with the likenesses of Kai-kobad, of Kai-kaus, Poshang,
Afrasiyab, and Sam, and Zal, and Rustem, and other champions of Persia
and Turan. When completed, it was a gorgeous retreat, and the sight of
it sufficient to give youthful vigor to the withered faculties of age.
And yet Saiawush was not happy! Tears started into his eyes and sorrow
weighed upon his heart, whenever he thought upon his own estrangement
from home!

It happened that the lovely Gulshaher, who had been left in the house of
her father, was delivered of a son in due time, and he was named Ferud.

Afrasiyab, on being informed of the proceedings of Saiawush, and of the
heart-expanding residence he had chosen, was highly gratified; and to
show his affectionate regard, despatched to him with the intelligence of
the birth of a son, presents of great value and variety. Gersiwaz, the
brother of Afrasiyab, and who had from the first looked upon Saiawush
with a jealous and malignant eye, being afraid of his interfering with
his own prospects in Turan, was the person sent on this occasion. But he
hid his secret thoughts under the veil of outward praise and
approbation. Saiawush was pleased with the intelligence and the
presents, but failed to pay the customary respect to Gersiwaz on his
arrival, and, in consequence, the lurking indignation and hatred
formerly felt by the latter were considerably augmented. The attention
of Saiawush respecting his army and the concerns of the state, was
unremitting, and noted by the visitor with a jealous and scrutinizing
eye, so that Gersiwaz, on his return to the court of Afrasiyab, artfully
talked much of the pomp and splendor of the prince, and added: "Saiawush
is far from being the amiable character thou hast supposed; he is artful
and ambitious, and he has collected an immense army; he is in fact
dissatisfied. As a proof of his haughtiness, he paid me but little
attention, and doubtless very heavy calamity will soon befall Turan,
should he break out, as I apprehend he will, into open rebellion:--

"For he is proud, and thou has yet to learn
The temper of thy daughter Ferangis,
Now bound to him in duty and affection;
Their purpose is the same, to overthrow
The kingdom of Turan, and thy dominion;
To merge the glory of this happy realm
Into the Persian empire!"

But plausible and persuasive as were the observations and positive
declarations of Gersiwaz, Afrasiyab would not believe the imputed
ingratitude and hostility of Saiawush. "He has sought my protection,"
said he; "he has thrown himself upon my generosity, and I cannot think
him treacherous. But if he has meditated anything unmerited by me, and
unworthy of himself, it will be better to send him back to Kai-kaus, his
father." The artful Gersiwaz, however, was not to be diverted from his
object: he said that Saiawush had become personally acquainted with
Turan, its position, its weakness, its strength, and resources, and
aided by Rustem, would soon be able to overrun the country if he was
suffered to return, and therefore he recommended Afrasiyab to bring him
from Khoten by some artifice, and secure him. In conformity with this
suggestion, Gersiwaz was again deputed to the young prince, and a letter
of a friendly nature written for the purpose of blinding him to the real
intentions of his father-in-law. The letter was no sooner read than
Saiawush expressed his desire to comply with the request contained in
it, saying that Afrasiyab had been a father to him, and that he would
lose no time in fulfilling in all respects the wishes he had received.

This compliance and promptitude, however, was not in harmony with the
sinister views of Gersiwaz, for he foresaw that the very fact of
answering the call immediately would show that some misrepresentation
had been practised, and consequently it was his business now to promote
procrastination, and an appearance of evasive delay. He therefore said
to him privately that it would be advisable for him to wait a little,
and not manifest such implicit obedience to the will of Afrasiyab; but
Saiawush replied, that both his duty and affection urged him to a ready
compliance. Then Gersiwaz pressed him more warmly, and represented how
inconsistent, how unworthy of his illustrious lineage it would be to
betray so meek a spirit, especially as he had a considerable army at his
command, and could vindicate his dignity and his rights. And he
addressed to him these specious arguments so incessantly and with such
earnestness, that the deluded prince was at last induced to put off his
departure, on account of his wife Ferangis pretending that she was ill,
and saying that the moment she was better he would return to Turan. This
was quite enough for treachery to work upon; and as soon as the dispatch
was sealed, Gersiwaz conveyed it with the utmost expedition to
Afrasiyab. Appearances, at least, were thus made strong against
Saiawush, and the tyrant of Turan, now easily convinced of his
falsehood, and feeling in consequence his former enmity renewed,
forthwith assembled an army to punish his refractory son-in-law.
Gersiwaz was appointed the leader of that army, which was put in motion
without delay against the unoffending youth. The news of Afrasiyab's
warlike preparations satisfied the mind of Saiawush that Gersiwaz had
given him good advice, and that he had been a faithful monitor, for
immediate compliance, he now concluded, would have been his utter ruin.
When he communicated this unwelcome intelligence to Ferangis, she was
thrown into the greatest alarm and agitation; but ever fruitful in
expedients, suggested the course that it seemed necessary he should
instantly adopt, which was to fly by a circuitous route back to Iran. To
this he expressed no dissent, provided she would accompany him; but she
said it was impossible to do so on account of the condition she was in.
"Leave me," she added, "and save thy own life!" He therefore called
together his three hundred Iranians, and requesting Ferangis, if she
happened to be delivered of a son, to call him Kai-khosrau, set off on
his journey.

"I go, surrounded by my enemies;
The hand of merciless Afrasiyab
Lifted against me."

It was not the fortune of Saiawush, however, to escape so easily as had
been anticipated by Ferangis. Gersiwaz was soon at his heels, and in the
battle that ensued, all the Iranians were killed, and also the horse
upon which the unfortunate prince rode, so that on foot he could make
but little progress. In the meantime Afrasiyab came up, and surrounding
him, wanted to shoot him with an arrow, but he was restrained from the
violent act by the intercession of his people, who recommended his being
taken alive, and only kept in prison. Accordingly he was again attacked
and secured, and still Afrasiyab wished to put him to death; but Pilsam,
one of his warriors, and the brother of Piran, induced him to relinquish
that diabolical intention, and to convey him back to his own palace.
Saiawush was then ignominiously fettered and conducted to the royal
residence, which he had himself erected and ornamented with such
richness and magnificence. The sight of the city and its splendid
buildings filled every one with wonder and admiration. Upon the arrival
of Afrasiyab, Ferangis hastened to him in a state of the deepest
distress, and implored his clemency and compassion in favor of Saiawush.

"O father, he is not to blame,
Still pure and spotless is his name;
Faithful and generous still to me,
And never--never false to thee.
This hate to Gersiwaz he owes,
The worst, the bitterest of his foes;
Did he not thy protection seek,
And wilt thou overpower the weak?
Spill royal blood thou shouldest bless,
In cruel sport and wantonness?
And earn the curses of mankind,
Living, in this precarious state,
And dead, the torments of the mind,
Which hell inflicts upon the great
Who revel in a murderous course,
And rule by cruelty and force.

"It scarce becomes me now to tell,
What the accursed Zohak befel,
Or what the punishment which hurled
Silim and Tur from out the world.
And is not Kaus living now,
With rightful vengeance on his brow?
And Rustem, who alone can make
Thy kingdom to its centre quake?
Gudarz, Zuara, and Friburz,
And Tus, and Girgin, and Framurz;
And others too of fearless might,
To challenge thee to mortal fight?
O, from this peril turn away,
Close not in gloom so bright a day;
Some heed to thy poor daughter give,
And let thy guiltless captive live."

The effect of this appeal, solemnly and urgently delivered, was only
transitory. Afrasiyab felt a little compunction at the moment, but soon
resumed his ferocious spirit, and to ensure, without interruption, the
accomplishment of his purpose, confined Ferangis in one of the remotest
parts of the palace:--

And thus to Gersiwaz unfeeling spoke:
"Off with his head, down with the enemy;
But take especial notice that his blood
Stains not the earth, lest it should cry aloud
For vengeance on us. Take good care of that!"

Gersiwaz, who was but too ready an instrument, immediately directed
Karu-zira, a kinsman of Afrasiyab, who had been also one of the most
zealous in promoting the ruin of the Persian prince, to inflict the
deadly blow; and Saiawush, whilst under the grasp of the executioner,
had but time to put up a prayer to Heaven, in which he hoped that a son
might be born to him to vindicate his good name, and be revenged on his
murderer. The executioner then seized him by the hair, and throwing him
on the ground, severed the head from the body. A golden vessel was ready
to receive the blood, as commanded by Afrasiyab; but a few drops
happened to be spilt on the soil, and upon that spot a tree grew up,
which was afterwards called Saiawush, and believed to possess many
wonderful virtues! The blood was carefully conveyed to Afrasiyab, the
head fixed on the point of a javelin, and the body was buried with
respect and affection by his friend Pilsam, who had witnessed the
melancholy catastrophe. It is also related that a tremendous tempest
occurred at the time this amiable prince was murdered, and that a total
darkness covered the face of the earth, so that the people could not
distinguish each other's faces. Then was the name of Afrasiyab truly
execrated and abhorred for the cruel act he had committed, and all the
inhabitants of Khoten long cherished the memory of Saiawush.

Ferangis was frantic with grief when she was told of the sad fate of her
husband, and all her household uttered the loudest lamentations. Pilsam
gave the intelligence to Piran and the proverb was then remembered: "It
is better to be in hell, than under the rule of Afrasiyab!" When the
deep sorrow of Ferangis reached the ears of her father, he determined on
a summary procedure, and ordered Gersiwaz to have her privately made
away with, so that there might be no issue of her marriage with
Saiawush.

Piran with horror heard this stern command,
And hasten'd to the king, and thus addressed him:
"What! wouldst thou hurl thy vengeance on a woman,
That woman, too, thy daughter? Is it wise,
Or natural, thus to sport with human life?
Already hast thou taken from her arms
Her unoffending husband--that was cruel;
But thus to shed an innocent woman's blood,
And kill her unborn infant--that would be
Too dreadful to imagine! Is she not
Thy own fair daughter, given in happier time
To him who won thy favour and affection?
Think but of that, and from thy heart root out
This demon wish, which leads thee to a crime,
Mocking concealment; vain were the endeavour
To keep the murder secret, and when known,
The world's opprobrium would pursue thy name.
And after death, what would thy portion be!
No more of this--honour me with the charge,
And I will keep her with a father's care,
In my own mansion." Then Afrasiyab
Readily answered: "Take her to thy home,
But when the child is born, let it be brought
Promptly to me--my will must be obeyed."

Piran rejoiced at his success; and assenting to the command of
Afrasiyab, took Ferangis with him to Khoten, where in due time a child
was born, and being a son, was called Kai-khosrau. As soon as he was
born, Piran took measures to prevent his being carried off to Afrasiyab,
and committed him to the care of some peasants on the mountain Kalun. On
the same night Afrasiyab had a dream, in which he received intimation of
the birth of Kai-khosrau; and upon this intimation he sent for Piran to
know why his commands had not been complied with. Piran replied, that he
had cast away the child in the wilderness. "And why was he not sent to
me?" inquired the despot. "Because," said Piran, "I considered thy own
future happiness; thou hast unjustly killed the father, and God forbid
that thou shouldst also kill the son!" Afrasiyab was abashed, and it is
said that ever after the atrocious murder of Saiawush, he had been
tormented with the most terrible and harrowing dreams. Gersiwaz now
became hateful to his sight, and he began at last deeply to repent of
his violence and inhumanity.

Kai-khosrau grew up under the fostering protection of the peasants, and
showed early marks of surprising talent and activity. He excelled in
manly exercises; and hunting ferocious animals was his peculiar delight.
Instructors had been provided to initiate him in all the arts and
pursuits cultivated by the warriors of those days, and even in his
twelfth year accounts were forwarded to Piran of several wonderful feats
which he had performed.

Then smiled the good old man, and joyful said:
"'Tis ever thus--the youth of royal blood
Will not disgrace his lineage, but betray
By his superior mien and gallant deeds
From whence he sprung. 'Tis by the luscious fruit
We know the tree, and glory in its ripeness!"

Piran could not resist paying a visit to the youth in his mountainous
retreat, and, happy to find him, beyond all expectation, distinguished
for the elegance of his external appearance, and the superior qualities
of his mind, related to him the circumstances under which he had been
exposed, and the rank and misfortunes of his father. An artifice then
occurred to him which promised to be of ultimate advantage. He
afterwards told Afrasiyab that the offspring of Ferangis, thrown by him
into the wilderness to perish, had been found by a peasant and brought
up, but that he understood the boy was little better than an idiot.
Afrasiyab, upon this information, desired that he might be sent for, and
in the meantime Piran took especial care to instruct Kai-khosrau how he
should act; which was to seem in all respects insane, and he accordingly
appeared before the king in the dress of a prince with a golden crown on
his head, and the royal girdle round his loins. Kai-khosrau proceeded on
horseback to the court of Afrasiyab, and having performed the usual
salutations, was suitably received, though with strong feelings of shame
and remorse on the part of the tyrant. Afrasiyab put several questions
to him, which were answered in a wild and incoherent manner, entirely at
variance with the subject proposed. The king could not help smiling, and
supposing him to be totally deranged, allowed him to be sent with
presents to his mother, for no harm, he thought, could possibly be
apprehended from one so forlorn in mind. Piran triumphed in the success
of his scheme, and lost no time in taking Kai-khosrau to his mother. All
the people of Khoten poured blessings on the head of the youth, and
imprecations on the merciless spirit of Afrasiyab. The city built by
Saiawush had been razed to the ground by the exterminating fury of his
enemies, and wild animals and reptiles occupied the place on which it
stood. The mother and son visited the spot where Saiawush was
barbarously killed, and the tree, which grew up from the soil enriched
by his blood, was found verdant and flourishing, and continued to
possess in perfection its marvellous virtues.

The tale of Saiawush is told;
And now the pages bright unfold,
Rustem's revenge--Sudaveh's fate--
Afrasiyab's degraded state,
And that terrific curse and ban
Which fell at last upon Turan!

When Kai-kaus heard of the fate of his son, and all its horrible details
were pictured to his mind, he was thrown into the deepest affliction.
His warriors, Tus, and Gudarz, and Bahram, and Friburz, and Ferhad, felt
with equal keenness the loss of the amiable prince, and Rustem, as soon
as the dreadful intelligence reached Sistan, set off with his troops to
the court of the king, still full of indignation at the conduct of Kaus,
and oppressed with sorrow respecting the calamity which had occurred. On
his arrival he thus addressed the weeping and disconsolate father of
Saiawush, himself at the same time drowned in tears:--

"How has thy temper turned to nought, the seed
Which might have grown, and cast a glorious shadow;
How is it scattered to the barren winds!
Thy love for false Sudaveh was the cause
Of all this misery; she, the Sorceress,
O'er whom thou hast so oft in rapture hung,
Enchanted by her charms; she was the cause
Of this destruction. Thou art woman's slave!
Woman, the bane of man's felicity!
Who ever trusted woman? Death were better
Than being under woman's influence;
She places man upon the foamy ridge
Of the tempestuous wave, which rolls to ruin,
Who ever trusted woman?--Woman! woman!"
Kaus looked down with melancholy mien,
And, half consenting, thus to Rustem said:--
"Sudaveh's blandishments absorbed my soul,
And she has brought this wretchedness upon me."
Rustem rejoined--"The world must be revenged
Upon this false Sudaveh;--she must die."
Kaus was silent; but his tears flowed fast,
And shame withheld resistance. Rustem rushed
Without a pause towards the shubistan;
Impatient, nothing could obstruct his speed
To slay Sudaveh;--her he quickly found,
And rapidly his sanguinary sword
Performed its office. Thus the Sorceress died.
Such was the punishment her crimes received.

Having thus accomplished the first part of his vengeance, he proceeded
with the Persian army against Afrasiyab, and all the Iranian warriors
followed his example. When he had penetrated as far as Turan, the enemy
sent forward thirty thousand men to oppose his progress; and in the
conflict which ensued, Feramurz took Sarkha, the son of Afrasiyab,
prisoner. Rustem delivered him over to Tus to be put to death precisely
in the same manner as Saiawush; but the captive represented himself as
the particular friend of Saiawush, and begged to be pardoned on that
account. Rustem, however, had sworn that he would take his revenge,
without pity or remorse, and accordingly death was inflicted upon the
unhappy prisoner, whose blood was received in a dish, and sent to Kaus,
and the severed head suspended over the gates of the king's palace.
Afrasiyab hearing of this catastrophe, which sealed the fate of his
favorite son, immediately collected together the whole of the Turanian
army, and hastened himself to resist the conquering career of the enemy.

As on they moved; with loud and dissonant clang;
His numerous troops shut out the prospect round;
No sun was visible by day; no moon,
Nor stars by night. The tramp of men and steeds,
And rattling drums, and shouts, were only heard,
And the bright gleams of armour only seen.

Ere long the two armies met, when Pilsam, the brother of Piran, was
ambitious of opposing his single arm against Rustem, upon which
Afrasiyab said:--"Subdue Rustem, and thy reward shall be my daughter,
and half my kingdom." Piran, however, observed that he was too young to
be a fit match for the experience and valor of the Persian champion, and
would have dissuaded him from the unequal contest, but the choice was
his own, and he was consequently permitted by Afrasiyab to put his
bravery to the test. Pilsam accordingly went forth and summoned Rustem
to the fight; but Giw, hearing the call, accepted the challenge himself,
and had nearly been thrown from his horse by the superior activity of
his opponent. Feramurz luckily saw him at the perilous moment, and
darting forward, with one stroke of his sword shattered Pilsam's javelin
to pieces, and then a new strife began. Pilsam and Feramurz fought
together with desperation, till both were almost exhausted, and Rustem
himself was surprised to see the display of so much valor. Perceiving
the wearied state of the two warriors he pushed forward Rakush, and
called aloud to Pilsam:--"Am I not the person challenged?" and
immediately the Turanian chief proceeded to encounter him, striking with
all his might at the head of the champion; but though the sword was
broken by the blow, not a hair of his head was disordered.

Then Rustem urging on his gallant steed,
Fixed his long javelin in the girdle band
Of his ambitious foe, and quick unhorsed him;
Then dragged him on towards Afrasiyab,
And, scoffing, cast him at the despot's feet.
"Here comes the glorious conqueror," he said;
"Now give to him thy daughter and thy treasure,
Thy kingdom and thy soldiers; has he not
Done honour to thy country?--Is he not
A jewel in thy crown of sovereignty?
What arrogance inspired the fruitless hope!
Think of thy treachery to Saiawush;
Thy savage cruelty, and never look
For aught but deadly hatred from mankind;
And in the field of fight defeat and ruin."
Thus scornfully he spoke, and not a man,
Though in the presence of Afrasiyab,
Had soul to meet him; fear o'ercame them all
Monarch and warriors, for a time. At length
Shame was awakened, and the king appeared
In arms against the champion. Fiercely they
Hurled their sharp javelins--Rustem's struck the head
Of his opponent's horse, which floundering fell,
And overturned his rider. Anxious then
The champion sprang to seize the royal prize;
But Human rushed between, and saved his master,
Who vaulted on another horse and fled.

Having thus rescued Afrasiyab, the wary chief exercised all his cunning
and adroitness to escape himself, and at last succeeded. Rustem pursued
him, and the Turanian troops, who had followed the example of the king;
but though thousands were slain in the chase which continued for many
farsangs, no further advantage was obtained on that day. Next morning,
however, Rustem resumed his pursuit; and the enemy hearing of his
approach, retreated into Chinese Tartary, to secure, among other
advantages, the person of Kai-khosrau; leaving the kingdom of Turan at
the mercy of the invader, who mounted the throne, and ruled there, it is
said, about seven years, with memorable severity, proscribing and
putting to death every person who mentioned the name of Afrasiyab. In
the meantime he made splendid presents to Tus and Gudarz, suitable to
their rank and services; and Zuara, in revenge for the monstrous outrage
committed upon Saiawush, burnt and destroyed everything that came in his
way; his wrath being exasperated by the sight of the places in which the
young prince had resided, and recreated himself with hunting and other
sports of the field. The whole realm, in fact, was delivered over to
plunder and devastation; and every individual of the army was enriched
by the appropriation of public and private wealth. The companions of
Rustem, however, grew weary of residing in Turan, and they strongly
represented to him the neglect which Kai-kaus had suffered for so many
years, recommending his return to Persia, as being more honorable than
the exile they endured in an ungenial climate. Rustem's abandonment of
the kingdom was at length carried into effect; and he and his warriors
did not fail to take away with them all the immense property that
remained in jewels and gold; part of which was conveyed by the champion
to Zabul and Sistan, and a goodly proportion to the king of kings in
Persia.

When to Afrasiyab was known
The plunder of his realm and throne,
That the destroyer's reckless hand
With fire and sword had scathed the land,
Sorrow and anguish filled his soul,
And passion raged beyond control;
And thus he to his warriors said:--
"At such a time, is valour dead?
The man who hears the mournful tale,
And is not by his country's bale
Urged on to vengeance, cannot be
Of woman born; accursed is he!
The time will come when I shall reap
The harvest of resentment deep;
And till arrives that fated hour,
Farewell to joy in hall or bower."

Rustem, in taking revenge for the murder of Saiawush, had not been
unmindful of Kai-khosrau, and had actually sent to the remote parts of
Tartary in quest of him.

It is said that Gudarz beheld in a dream the young prince, who pointed
out to him his actual residence, and intimated that of all the warriors
of Kaus, Giw was the only one destined to restore him to the world and
his birth-right. The old man immediately requested his son Giw to go to
the place where the stranger would be found. Giw readily complied, and
in his progress provided himself at every stage successively with a
guide, whom he afterwards slew to prevent discovery, and in this manner
he proceeded till he reached the boundary of Chin, enjoying no comfort
by day, or sleep by night. His only food was the flesh of the wild ass,
and his only covering the skin of the same animal. He went on traversing
mountain and forest, enduring every privation, and often did he
hesitate, often did he think of returning, but honor urged him forward
in spite of the trouble and impediments with which he was continually
assailed. Arriving in a desert one day, he happened to meet with several
persons, who upon being interrogated, said that they were sent by
Piran-wisah in search of Kai-kaus. Giw kept his own secret, saying that
he was amusing himself with hunting the wild ass, but took care to
ascertain from them the direction in which they were going. During the
night the parties separated, and in the morning Giw proceeded rapidly on
his route, and after some time discovered a youth sitting by the side of
a fountain, with a cup in his hand, whom he supposed to be Kai-khosrau.
The youth also spontaneously thought "This must be Giw"; and when the
traveller approached him, and said, "I am sure thou art the son of
Saiawush"; the youth observed, "I am equally sure that thou art Giw the
son of Gudarz." At this Giw was amazed, and falling to his feet, asked
how, and from what circumstance, he recognized him. The youth replied
that he knew all the warriors of Kaus; Rustem, and Kishwad, and Tus, and
Gudarz, and the rest, from their portraits in his father's gallery, they
being deeply impressed on his mind. He then asked in what way Giw had
discovered him to be Kai-khosrau, and Giw answered, "Because I perceived
something kingly in thy countenance. But let me again examine thee!" The
youth, at this request, removed his garments, and Giw beheld that mark
on his body which was the heritage of the race of Kai-kobad. Upon this
discovery he rejoiced, and congratulating himself and the young prince
on the success of his mission, related to him the purpose for which he
had come. Kai-khosrau was soon mounted on horseback, and Giw accompanied
him respectfully on foot. They, in the first instance, pursued their way
towards the abode of Ferangis, his mother. The persons sent by
Piran-wisah did not arrive at the place where Kai-khosrau had been kept
till long after Giw and the prince departed; and then they were told
that a Persian horseman had come and carried off the youth, upon which
they immediately returned, and communicated to Piran what had occurred.
Ferangis, in recovering her son, mentioned to Giw, with the fondness of
a mother, the absolute necessity of going on without delay, and pointed
out to him the meadow in which some of Afrasiyab's horses were to be met
with, particularly one called Behzad, which once belonged to Saiawush,
and which her father had kept in good condition for his own riding. Giw,
therefore, went to the meadow, and throwing his kamund, secured Behzad
and another horse; and all three being thus accommodated, hastily
proceeded on their journey towards Iran.

Tidings of the escape of Kai-khosrau having reached Afrasiyab, he
despatched Kulbad with three hundred horsemen after him; and so rapid
were his movements that he overtook the fugitives in the vicinity of
Bulgharia. Khosrau and his mother were asleep, but Giw being awake, and
seeing an armed force evidently in pursuit of his party, boldly put on
his armor, mounted Behzad, and before the enemy came up, advanced to the
charge. He attacked the horsemen furiously with sword, and mace, for he
had heard the prophecy, which declared that Kai-khosrau was destined to
be the king of kings, and therefore he braved the direst peril with
confidence, and the certainty of success. It was this feeling which
enabled him to perform such a prodigy of valor, in putting Kulbad and
his three hundred horsemen to the rout. They all fled defeated, and
dispersed precipitately before him. After this surprising victory, he
returned to the halting place, and told Kai-khosrau what he had done.
The prince was disappointed at not having been awakened to participate
in the exploit, but Giw said, "I did not wish to disturb thy sweet
slumbers unnecessarily. It was thy good fortune and prosperous star,
however, which made me triumph over the enemy." The three travellers
then resuming their journey:

Through dreary track, and pathless waste,
And wood and wild, their way they traced.

The return of the defeated Kulbad excited the greatest indignation in
the breast of Piran. "What! three hundred soldiers to fly from the valor
of one man! Had Giw possessed even the activity and might of Rustem and
Sam, such a shameful discomfiture could scarcely have happened." Saying
this, he ordered the whole force under his command to be got ready, and
set off himself to overtake and intercept the fugitives, who, fatigued
with the toilsome march, were only able to proceed one stage in the day.
Piran, therefore, who travelled at the rate of one hundred leagues a
day, overtook them before they had passed through Bulgharia. Ferangis,
who saw the enemy's banner floating in the air, knew that it belonged to
Piran, and instantly awoke the two young men from sleep. Upon this
occasion, Khosrau insisted on acting his part, instead of being left
ignominiously idle; but Giw was still resolute and determined to
preserve him from all risk, at the peril of his own life. "Thou art
destined to be the king of the world; thou art yet young, and a novice,
and hast never known the toils of war; Heaven forbid that any misfortune
should befall thee: indeed, whilst I live, I will never suffer thee to
go into battle!" Khosrau then proposed to give him assistance; but Giw
said he wanted no assistance, not even from Rustem; "for," he added, "in
art and strength we are equal, having frequently tried our skill
together." Rustem had given his daughter in marriage to Giw, he himself
being married to Giw's sister. "Be of good cheer," resumed he, "get upon
some high place, and witness the battle between us.

"Fortune will still from Heaven descend,
The god of victory is my friend."

As soon as he took the field, Piran thus addressed him: "Thou hast once,
singly, defeated three hundred of my soldiers; thou shalt now see what
punishment awaits thee at my hands.

"For should a warrior be a rock of steel,
A thousand ants, gathered on every side,
In time will make him but a heap of dust."

In reply, Giw said to Piran, "I am the man who bound thy two women, and
sent them from China to Persia--Rustem and I are the same in battle.
Thou knowest, when he encountered a thousand horsemen, what was the
result, and what he accomplished! Thou wilt find me the same: is not a
lion enough to overthrow a thousand kids?

"If but a man survive of thy proud host,
Brand me with coward--say I'm not a warrior.
Already have I triumphed o'er Kulbad,
And now I'll take thee prisoner, yea, alive!
And send thee to Kaus--there thou wilt be
Slain to avenge the death of Saiawush;
Turan shall perish, and Afrasiyab,
And every earthly hope extinguished quite."
Hearing this awful threat, Piran turned pale
And shook with terror--trembling like a reed;
And saying: "Go, I will not fight with thee!"
But Giw asked fiercely: "Why?" And on he rushed
Against the foe, who fled--but 'twas in vain.
The kamund round the old man's neck was thrown,
And he was taken captive. Then his troops
Showered their sharp arrows on triumphant Giw,
To free their master, who was quickly brought
Before Kai-khosrau, and the kamund placed
Within his royal hands. This service done,
Giw sped against the Tartars, and full soon
Defeated and dispersed them.

On his return, Giw expressed his astonishment that Piran was still
alive; when Ferangis interposed, and weeping, said how much she had been
indebted to his interposition and the most active humanity on various
occasions, and particularly in saving herself and Kai-khosrau from the
wrath of Afrasiyab after the death of Saiawush. "If," said she, "after
so much generosity he has committed one fault, let it be forgiven.

"Let not the man of many virtues die,
For being guilty of one trifling error.
Let not the friend who nobly saved my life,
And more, the dearer life of Kai-khosrau,
Suffer from us. O, he must never, never,
Feel the sharp pang of foul ingratitude,
From a true prince of the Kaianian race."

But Giw paused, and said, "I have sworn to crimson the earth with his
blood, and I must not pass from my oath." Khosrau then suggested to him
to pierce the lobes of Piran's ears, and drop the blood on the ground to
stain it, in order that he might not depart from his word; and this
humane fraud was accordingly committed. Khosrau further interceded; and
instead of being sent a captive to Kaus, the good old man was set at
liberty.

When the particulars of this event were described to Afrasiyab by
Piran-wisah, he was exceedingly sorrowful, and lamented deeply that
Kai-khosrau had so successfully effected his escape. But he had recourse
to a further expedient, and sent instructions to all the ferrymen of the
Jihun, with a minute description of the three travellers, to prevent
their passing that river, announcing at the same time that he himself
was in pursuit of them. Not a moment was lost in preparing his army for
the march, and he moved forward with the utmost expedition, night and
day. At the period when Giw arrived on the banks of the Jihun, the
stream was very rapid and formidable, and he requested the ferrymen to
produce their certificates to show themselves equal to their duty. They
pretended that their certificates were lost, but demanded for their fare
the black horse upon which Giw rode. Giw replied, that he could not part
with his favorite horse; and they rejoined, "Then give us the damsel who
accompanies you." Giw answered, and said, "This is not a damsel, but the
mother of that youth!"--"Then," observed they, "give us the youth's
crown." But Giw told them that he could not comply with their demand;
yet he was ready to reward them with money to any extent. The
pertinacious ferrymen, who were not anxious for money, then demanded his
armor, and this was also refused; and such was their independence or
their effrontery, that they replied, "If not one of these four things
you are disposed to grant, cross the river as best you may." Giw
whispered to Kai-khosrau, and told him that there was no time for delay.
"When Kavah, the blacksmith," said he, "rescued thy great ancestor,
Feridun, he passed the stream in his armor without impediment; and why
should we, in a cause of equal glory, hesitate for a moment?" Under the
inspiring influence of an auspicious omen, and confiding in the
protection of the Almighty, Kai-khosrau at once impelled his foaming
horse into the river; his mother, Ferangis, followed with equal
intrepidity, and then Giw; and notwithstanding the perilous passage,
they all successfully overcame the boiling surge, and landed in safety,
to the utter amazement of the ferrymen, who of course had expected they
would be drowned,

It so happened that at the moment they touched the shore, Afrasiyab with
his army arrived, and had the mortification to see the fugitives on the
other bank, beyond his reach. His wonder was equal to his
disappointment.

"What spirits must they have to brave
The terrors of that boiling wave--
With steed and harness, riding o'er
The billows to the further shore."

It was a cheering sight, they say,
To see how well they kept their way,
How Ferangis impelled her horse
Across that awful torrent's course,
Guiding him with heroic hand,
To reach unhurt the friendly strand.

Afrasiyab continued for some time mute with astonishment and vexation,
and when he recovered, ordered the ferrymen to get ready their boats to
pass him over the river; but Human dissuaded him from that measure,
saying that they could only convey a few troops, and they would
doubtless be received by a large force of the enemy on the other side.
At these words, Afrasiyab seemed to devour his own blood with grief and
indignation, and immediately retracing his steps, returned to Turan.

As soon as Giw entered within the boundary of the Persian empire, he
poured out thanksgivings to God for his protection, and sent
intelligence to Kaus of the safe arrival of the party in his dominions.
The king rejoiced exceedingly, and appointed an honorary deputation
under the direction of Gudarz, to meet the young prince on the road. On
first seeing him, the king moved forward to receive him; and weeping
affectionately, kissed his eyes and face, and had a throne prepared for
him exactly like his own, upon which he seated him; and calling the
nobles and warriors of the land together, commanded them to obey him.
All readily promised their allegiance, excepting Tus, who left the court
in disgust, and repairing forthwith to the house of Friburz, one of the
sons of Kaus, told him that he would only pay homage and obedience to
him, and not to the infant whom Giw had just brought out of a desert.
Next day the great men and leaders were again assembled to declare
publicly by an official act their fealty to Kai-khosrau, and Tus was
also invited to the banquet, which was held on the occasion, but he
refused to go. Giw was deputed to repeat the invitation; and he then
said, "I shall pay homage to Friburz, as the heir to the throne, and to
no other.

"For is he not the son of Kai-kaus,
And worthy of the regal crown and throne?
I want not any of the race of Poshang--
None of the proud Turanian dynasty--
Fruitless has been thy peril, Giw, to bring
A silly child among us, to defraud
The rightful prince of his inheritance!"

Giw, in reply, vindicated the character and attainments of Khosrau, but
Tus was not to be appeased. He therefore returned to his father and
communicated to him what had occurred. Gudarz was roused to great wrath
by this resistance to the will of the king, and at once took twelve
thousand men and his seventy-eight kinsmen, together with Giw, and
proceeded to support his cause by force of arms. Tus, apprised of his
intentions, prepared to meet him, but was reluctant to commit himself by
engaging in a civil war, and said, internally:--

"If I unsheath the sword of strife,
Numbers on either side will fall,
I would not sacrifice the life
Of one who owns my sovereign's thrall.

"My country would abhor the deed,
And may I never see the hour
When Persia's sons are doomed to bleed,
But when opposed to foreign power.

"The cause must be both good and true,
And if their blood in war must flow,
Will it not seem of brighter hue,
When shed to crush the Tartar foe?"

Possessing these sentiments, Tus sent an envoy to Gudarz, suggesting the
suspension of any hostile proceedings until information on the subject
had been first communicated to the king. Kaus was extremely displeased
with Gudarz for his precipitancy and folly, and directed both him and
Tus to repair immediately to court. Tus there said frankly, "I now owe
honor and allegiance to king Kaus; but should he happen to lay aside the
throne and the diadem, my obedience and loyalty will be due to Friburz
his heir, and not to a stranger." To this, Gudarz replied, "Saiawush was
the eldest son of the king, and unjustly murdered, and therefore it
becomes his majesty to appease and rejoice the soul of the deceased, by
putting Kai-khosrau in his place. Kai-khosrau, like Feridun, is worthy
of empire; all the nobles of the land are of this opinion, excepting
thyself, which must arise from ignorance and vanity.

"From Nauder certainly thou are descended,
Not from a stranger, not from foreign loins;
But though thy ancestor was wise and mighty
Art thou of equal merit? No, not thou!
Regarding Khosrau, thou hast neither shown
Reason nor sense--but most surprising folly!"
To this contemptuous speech, Tus thus replied:
"Ungenerous warrior! wherefore thus employ
Such scornful words to me? Who art thou, pray!
Who, but the low descendant of a blacksmith?
No Khosrau claims thee for his son, no chief
Of noble blood; whilst I can truly boast
Kindred to princes of the highest worth,
And merit not to be obscured by thee!"
To him then Gudarz: "Hear me for this once,
Then shut thy ears for ever. Need I blush
To be the kinsman of the glorious Kavah?
It is my humour to be proud of him.
Although he was a blacksmith--that same man,
Who, when the world could still boast of valour,
Tore up the name-roll of the fiend Zohak,
And gave the Persians freedom from the fangs
Of the devouring serpents. He it was,
Who raised the banner, and proclaimed aloud,
Freedom for Persia! Need I blush for him?
To him the empire owes its greatest blessing,
The prosperous rule of virtuous Feridun."
Tus wrathfully rejoined: "Old man! thy arrow
May pierce an anvil--mine can pierce the heart
Of the Kaf mountain! If thy mace can break
A rock asunder--mine can strike the sun!"

The anger of the two heroes beginning to exceed all proper bounds, Kaus
commanded silence; when Gudarz came forward, and asked permission to say
one word more: "Call Khosrau and Friburz before thee, and decide
impartially between them which is the most worthy of sovereignty--let
the wisest and the bravest only be thy successor to the throne of
Persia." Kaus replied:

"The father has no choice among his children,
He loves them all alike--his only care
Is to prevent disunion; to preserve
Brotherly kindness and respect among them."

After a pause, he requested the attendance of Friburz and Khosrau, and
told them that there was a demon-fortress in the vicinity of his
dominions called Bahmen, from which fire was continually issuing. "Go,
each of you," said he, "against this fortress, supported by an army with
which you shall each be equally provided, and the conqueror shall be the
sovereign of Persia." Friburz was not sorry to hear of this probationary
scheme, and only solicited to be sent first on the expedition. He and
Tus looked upon the task as perfectly easy, and promised to be back
triumphant in a short time.

But when the army reached that awful fort,
The ground seemed all in flames on every side;
One universal fire raged round and round,
And the hot wind was like the scorching breath
Which issues from red furnaces, where spirits
Infernal dwell. Full many a warrior brave,
And many a soldier perished in that heat,
Consumed to ashes. Nearer to the fort
Advancing, they beheld it in mid-air,
But not a living thing--nor gate, nor door;
Yet they remained one week, hoping to find
Some hidden inlet, suffering cruel loss
Hour after hour--but none could they descry.
At length, despairing, they returned, worn out,
Scorched, and half-dead with watching, care, and toil.
And thus Friburz and Tus, discomfited
And sad, appeared before the Persian king.

Then was it Khosrau's turn, and him Kaus
Despatched with Giw, and Gudarz, and the troops
Appointed for that enterprise, and blessed them.
When the young prince approached the destined scene
Of his exploit, he saw the blazing fort
Reddening the sky and earth, and well he knew
This was the work of sorcery, the spell
Of demon-spirits. In a heavenly dream,
He had been taught how to destroy the charms
Of fell magicians, and defy their power,
Though by the devil, the devil himself, sustained,
He wrote the name of God, and piously
Bound it upon his javelin's point, and pressed
Fearlessly forward, showing it on high;
And Giw displayed it on the magic walls
Of that proud fortress--breathing forth a prayer
Craving the aid of the Almighty arm;
When suddenly the red fires died away,
And all the world was darkness, Khosrau's troops
Following the orders of their prince, then shot
Thick clouds of arrows from ten thousand bows,
In the direction of the enchanted tower.
The arrows fell like rain, and quickly slew
A host of demons--presently bright light
Dispelled the gloom, and as the mist rolled off
In sulphury circles, the surviving fiends
Were seen in rapid flight; the fortress, too,
Distinctly shone, and its prodigious gate,
Through which the conquerors passed. Great wealth they found,
And having sacked the place, Khosrau erected
A lofty temple, to commemorate
His name and victory there, then back returned
Triumphantly to gladden king Kaus,
Whose heart expanded at the joyous news.

The result of Kai-khosrau's expedition against the enchanted castle,
compared with that of Friburz, was sufficient of itself to establish the
former in the king's estimation, and accordingly it was announced to the
princes and nobles and warriors of the land, that he should succeed to
the throne, and be crowned on a fortunate day. A short time afterwards
the coronation took place with great pomp and splendor; and Khosrau
conducted himself towards men of every rank and station with such
perfect kindness and benevolence, that he gained the affections of all
and never failed daily to pay a visit to his grandfather Kaus, and to
familiarize himself with the affairs of the kingdom which he was
destined to govern.

Justice he spread with equal hand,
Rooting oppression from the land;
And every desert, wood, and wild,
With early cultivation smiled;
And every plain, with verdure clad,
And every Persian heart was glad.

KAI-KHOSRAU

The tidings of Khosrau's accession to the throne were received at Sistan
by Zal and Rustem with heartfelt pleasure, and they forthwith hastened
to court with rich presents, to pay him their homage, and congratulate
him on the occasion of his elevation. The heroes were met on the road
with suitable honors, and Khosrau embracing Rustem affectionately, lost
no time in asking for his assistance in taking vengeance for the death
of Saiawush. The request was no sooner made than granted, and the
champion having delivered his presents, then proceeded with his father
Zal to wait upon Kaus, who prepared a royal banquet, and entertained
Khosrau and them in the most sumptuous manner. It was there agreed to
march a large army against Afrasiyab; and all the warriors zealously
came forward with their best services, except Zal, who on account of his
age requested to remain tranquilly in his own province. Khosrau said to
Kaus:

"The throne can yield no happiness for me,
Nor can I sleep the sleep of health and joy
Till I have been revenged on that destroyer.
The tyrant of Turan; to please the spirit
Of my poor butchered father."

Kaus, on delivering over to him the imperial army, made him acquainted
with the character and merits of every individual of importance. He
appointed Friburz, and a hundred warriors, who were the prince's friends
and relatives, to situations of trust and command, and Tus was among
them. Gudarz and his seventy-eight sons and grandsons were placed on the
right, and Gustahem, the brother of Tus, with an immense levy on the
left. There were also close to Khosrau's person, in the centre of the
hosts, thirty-three warriors of the race of Poshang, and a separate
guard under Byzun.

In their progress Khosrau said to Friburz and Tus, "Ferud, who is my
brother, has built a strong fort in Bokhara, called Kullab, which stands
on the way to the enemy, and there he resides with his mother,
Gulshaher. Let him not be molested, for he is also the son of Saiawush,
but pass on one side of his possessions." Friburz did pass on one side
as requested; but Tus, not liking to proceed by the way of the desert,
and preferring a cultivated and pleasant country, went directly on
through the places which led to the very fort in question. When Ferud
was informed of the approach of Tus with an armed force, he naturally
concluded that he was coming to fight him, and consequently determined
to oppose his progress. Tus, however, sent Riu, his son-in-law, to
explain to Ferud that he had no quarrel or business with him, and only
wished to pass peaceably through his province; but Ferud thought this
was merely an idle pretext, and proceeding to hostilities, Riu was
killed by him in the conflict that ensued. Tus, upon being informed of
this result, drew up his army, and besieged the fort into which Ferud
had precipitately retired. When Ferud, however, found that Tus himself
was in the field, he sallied forth from his fastness, and assailed him
with his bow and arrows. One of the darts struck and killed the horse of
Tus, and tumbled his rider to the ground. Upon this occurrence Giw
rushed forward in the hopes of capturing the prince; but it so happened
that he was unhorsed in the same way. Byzun, the son of Giw, seeing with
great indignation this signal overthrow, wished to be revenged on the
victor; and though his father endeavored to restrain him, nothing could
control his wrath. He sprung speedily forward to fulfil his menace, but
by the bravery and expertness of Ferud, his horse was killed, and he too
was thrown headlong from his saddle. Unsubdued, however, he rose upon
his feet, and invited his antagonist to single combat. In consequence of
this challenge, they fought a short time with spears till Ferud deemed
it advisable to retire into his fort, from the lofty walls of which he
cast down so many stones, that Byzun was desperately wounded, and
compelled to leave the place. When he informed Tus of the misfortune
which had befallen him, that warrior vowed that on the following day not
a man should remain alive in the fort. The mother of Ferud, who was the
daughter of Wisah, had at this period a dream which informed her that
the fortress had taken fire, and that the whole of the inhabitants had
been consumed to death. This dream she communicated to Ferud, who said
in reply:--

"Mother! I have no dread of death;
What is there in this vital breath?
My sire was wounded, and he died;
And fate may lay me by his side!
Was ever man immortal?--never!
We cannot, mother, live for ever.
Mine be the task in life to claim
In war a bright and spotless name.
What boots it to be pale with fear,
And dread each grief that waits us here?
Protected by the power divine,
Our lot is written--why repine?"

Tus, according to his threat, attacked the fort, and burst open the
gates. Ferud defended himself with great valor against Byzun; and whilst
they were engaged in deadly battle, Bahram, the hero, sprang up from his
ambuscade, and striking furiously upon the head of Ferud, killed that
unfortunate youth on the spot. The mother, the beautiful Gulshaher,
seeing what had befallen her son, rushed out of the fort in a state of
frenzy, and flying to him, clasped him in her arms in an agony of grief.
Unable to survive his loss, she plunged a dagger in her own breast, and
died at his feet. The Persians then burst open the gates, and plundered
the city. Bahram, when he saw what had been done, reproached Tus with
being the cause of this melancholy tragedy, and asked him what account
he would give of his conduct to Kai-khosrau. Tus was extremely
concerned, and remaining three days at that place, erected a lofty
monument to the memory of the unfortunate youth, and scented it with
musk and camphor. He then pushed forward his army to attack another
fort. That fort gave way, the commandant being killed in the attack; and
he then hastened on toward Afrasiyab, who had ordered Nizad with thirty
thousand horsemen to meet him. Byzun distinguished himself in the
contest which followed, but would have fallen into the hands of the
enemy if he had not been rescued by his men, and conveyed from the field
of battle. Afrasiyab pushed forward another force of forty thousand
horsemen under Piran-wisah, who suffered considerable loss in an
engagement with Giw; and in consequence fell back for the purpose of
retrieving himself by a shubkhun, or night attack. The resolution proved
to be a good one; for when night came on, the Persians were found off
their guard, many of them being intoxicated, and the havoc and
destruction committed among them by the Tartars was dreadful. The
survivors were in a miserable state of despondency, but it was not till
morning dawned that Tus beheld the full extent of his defeat and the
ruin that surrounded him. When Kai-khosrau heard of this heavy reverse,
he wrote to Friburz, saying, "I warned Tus not to proceed by the way of
Kullab, because my brother and his mother dwelt in that place, and their
residence ought to have been kept sacred. He has not only despised my
orders, but he has cruelly occasioned the untimely death of both. Let
him be bound, and sent to me a prisoner, and do thou assume the command
of the army." Friburz accordingly placed Tus in confinement, and sent
him to Khosrau, who received and treated him with reproaches and wrath,
and consigned him to a dungeon. He then wrote to Piran, reproaching him
for resorting to a night attack so unworthy of a brave man, and
challenging him to resume the battle with him. Piran said that he would
meet him after the lapse of a month, and at the expiration of that
period both armies were opposed to each other. The contest commenced
with arrows, then swords, and then with javelins; and Giw and Byzun were
the foremost in bearing down the warriors of the enemy, who suffered so
severely that they turned aside to attack Friburz, against whom they
hoped to be more successful. The assault which they made was
overwhelming, and vast numbers were slain, so that Friburz, finding
himself driven to extremity, was obliged to shelter himself and his
remaining troops on the skirts of a mountain. In the meantime Gudarz and
Giw determined to keep their ground or perish, and sent Byzun to Friburz
to desire him to join them, or if that was impracticable, to save the
imperial banner by despatching it to their care. To this message,
Friburz replied: "The traitors are triumphant over me on every side, and
I cannot go, nor will I give up the imperial banner, but tell Gudarz to
come to my aid." Upon receiving this answer, Byzun struck the
standard-bearer dead, and snatching up the Derafsh Gavahni, conveyed it
to Gudarz, who, raising it on high, directed his troops against the
enemy; and so impetuous was the charge, that the carnage on both sides
was prodigious. Only eight of the sons of Gudarz remained alive, seventy
of his kindred having been slain on that day, and many of the family of
Kaus were also killed. Nor did the relations of Afrasiyab and Piran
suffer in a less degree, nine hundred of them, warriors and cavaliers,
were sent out of the world; yet victory remained with the Turanians.

When Afrasiyab was informed of the result of this battle, he sent
presents and honorary dresses to his officers, saying, "We must not be
contented with this triumph; you have yet to obscure the martial glory
of Rustem and Khosrau." Piran replied, "No doubt that object will be
accomplished with equal facility."

After the defeat of the Persian army, Friburz retired under the cover of
night, and at length arrived at the court of Khosrau, who was afflicted
with the deepest sorrow, both on account of his loss in battle and the
death of his brother Ferud. Rustem was now as usual applied to for the
purpose of consoling the king, and extricating the empire from its
present misfortunes. Khosrau was induced to liberate Tus from his
confinement, and requested Rustem to head the army against Piran, but
Tus offered his services, and the champion observed, "He is fully
competent to oppose the arms of Piran; but if Afrasiyab takes the field,
I will myself instantly follow to the war." Khosrau accordingly deputed
Tus and Gudarz with a large army, and the two hostile powers were soon
placed in opposition to each other. It is said that they were engaged
seven days and nights, and that on the eighth Human came forward, and
challenged several warriors to fight singly, all of whom he successively
slew. He then called upon Tus, but Gudarz not permitting him to accept
the challenge, sent Giw in his stead. The combatants met; and after
being wounded and exhausted by their struggles for mastery, each
returned to his own post. The armies again engaged with arrows, and
again the carnage was great, but the battle remained undecided.

Piran had now recourse to supernatural agency, and sent Baru, a renowned
magician, perfect in his art, upon the neighboring mountains, to involve
them in darkness, and produce by his conjuration tempestuous showers of
snow and hail. He ordered him to direct all their intense severity
against the enemy, and to avoid giving any annoyance to the Turanian
army. Accordingly when Human and Piran-wisah made their attack, they had
the co-operation of the elements, and the consequence was a desperate
overthrow of the Persian army.

So dreadful was the carnage, that the plain
Was crimsoned with the blood of warriors slain.

In this extremity, Tus and Gudarz piously put up a prayer to God,
earnestly soliciting protection from the horrors with which they were
surrounded.

O Thou! the clement, the compassionate,
We are thy servants, succor our distress,
And save us from the sorcery that now
Yields triumph to the foe. In thee alone
We place our trust; graciously hear our prayer!

Scarcely had this petition been uttered, when a mysterious person
appeared to Reham from the invisible world, and pointed to the mountain
from whence the tempest descended. Reham immediately attended to the
sign, and galloped forward to the mountain, where he discovered the
magician upon its summit, deeply engaged in incantations and witchcraft.
Forthwith he drew his sword and cut off this wizard's arms. Suddenly a
whirlwind arose, which dissipated the utter darkness that prevailed; and
then nothing remained of the preternatural gloom, not a particle of the
hail or snow was to be seen: Reham, however, brought him down from the
mountain and after presenting him before Tus, put an end to his wicked
existence. The armies were now on a more equal footing: they beheld more
clearly the ravages that had been committed by each, and each had great
need of rest. They accordingly retired till the following day, and then
again opposed each other with renewed vigor and animosity. But fortune
would not smile on the exertions of the Persian hosts, they being
obliged to fall back upon the mountain Hamawun, and in the fortress
situated there Tus deposited all his sick and wounded, continuing
himself in advance to ensure their protection. Piran seeing this,
ordered his troops to besiege the place where Tus had posted himself.
This was objected to by Human, but Piran was resolved upon the measure,
and had several conflicts with the enemy without obtaining any advantage
over them. In the mountain-fortress there happened to be wells of water
and abundance of grain and provisions, so that the Persians were in no
danger of being reduced by starvation. Khosrau, however, being informed
of their situation, sent Rustem, accompanied by Friburz, to their
assistance, and they were both welcomed, and received with rejoicing,
and cordial satisfaction. The fortress gates were thrown open, and
Rustem was presently seen seated upon a throne in the public hall,
deliberating on the state of affairs, surrounded by the most
distinguished leaders of the army.

In the meanwhile Piran-wisah had written to Afrasiyab, informing him
that he had reduced the Persian army to great distress, had forced them
to take refuge in a mountain fort, and requested a further reinforcement
to complete the victory, and make them all prisoners. Afrasiyab in
consequence despatched three illustrious confederates from different
regions. There was Shinkul of Sugsar, the Khakan of Chin, whose crown
was the starry heavens, and Kamus of Kushan, a hero of high renown and
wondrous in every deed.

For when he frowned, the air grew freezing cold;
And when he smiled, the genial spring showered down
Roses and hyacinths, and all was brightness!

Piran went first to pay a visit to Kamus, to whom he, almost trembling,
described the amazing strength and courage of Rustem: but Kamus was too
powerful to express alarm; on the contrary, he said:

"Is praise like this to Rustem due?
And what, if all thou say'st be true?
Are his large limbs of iron made?
Will they resist my trenchant blade?
His head may now his shoulders grace,
But will it long retain its place?
Let me but meet him in the fight,
And thou shalt see Kamus's might!"

Piran's spirits rose at this bold speech, and encouraged by its effects,
he repaired to the Khakan of Chin, with whom he settled the necessary
arrangements for commencing battle on the following day. Early in the
morning the different armies under Kamus, the Khakan, and Piran-wisah,
were drawn out, and Rustem was also prepared with the troops under his
command for the impending conflict. He saw that the force arrayed
against him was prodigious, and most tremendous in aspect; and offering
a prayer to the Creator, he plunged into the battle.

'Twas at mid-day the strife began,
With steed to steed and man to man;
The clouds of dust which rolled on high,
Threw darkness o'er the earth and sky.
Each soldier on the other rushed,
And every blade with crimson blushed;
And valiant hearts were trod upon,
Like sand beneath the horse's feet,
And when the warrior's life was gone,
His mail became his winding sheet.

The first leader who advanced conspicuously from among the Tartar army
was Ushkabus, against whom Reham boldly opposed himself; but after a
short conflict, in which he had some difficulty in defending his life
from the assaults of his antagonist, he thought it prudent to retire.
When Ushkabus saw this he turned round with the intention of rejoining
his own troops; but Rustem having witnessed the triumph over his friend,
sallied forth on foot, taking up his bow, and placing a few arrows in
his girdle, and asked him whither he was going.

Astonished, Ushkabus cried, "Who art thou?
What kindred hast thou to lament thy fall?"
Rustem replied:--"Why madly seek to know
That which can never yield thee benefit?
My name is death to thee, thy hour is come!"
"Indeed! and thou on foot, mid mounted warriors,
To talk so bravely!"--"Yes," the champion said;
"And hast thou never heard of men on foot,
Who conquered horsemen? I am sent by Tus,
To take for him the horse of Ushkabus."
"What! and unarmed?" inquired the Tartar chief;
"No!" cried the champion, "Mark, my bow and arrow!
Mark, too, with what effect they may be used!"
So saying, Rustem drew the string, and straight
The arrow flew, and faithful to its aim,
Struck dead the foeman's horse. This done, he laughed,
But Ushkabus was wroth, and showered upon
His bold antagonist his quivered store--
Then Rustem raised his bow, with eager eye
Choosing a dart, and placed it on the string,
A thong of elk-skin; to his ear he drew
The feathered notch, and when the point had touched
The other hand, the bended horn recoiled,
And twang the arrow sped, piercing the breast
Of Ushkabus, who fell a lifeless corse,
As if he never had been born! Erect,
And firm, the champion stood upon the plain,
Towering like mount Alberz, immovable,
The gaze and wonder of the adverse host!

When Rustem, still unknown to the Turanian forces, returned to his own
army, the Tartars carried away the body of Ushkabus, and took it to the
Khakan of Chin, who ordered the arrow to be drawn out before him; and
when he and Kamus saw how deeply it had penetrated, and that the
feathered end was wet with blood, they were amazed at the immense power
which had driven it from the bow; they had never witnessed or heard of
anything so astonishing. The fight was, in consequence, suspended till
the following day. The Khakan of Chin then inquired who was disposed or
ready to be revenged on the enemy for the death of Ushkabus, when Kamus
advanced, and, soliciting permission, urged forward his horse to the
middle of the plain. He then called aloud for Rustem, but a Kabul hero,
named Alwund, a pupil of Rustem's, asked his master's permission to
oppose the challenger, which being granted, he rushed headlong to the
combat. Luckless however were his efforts, for he was soon overthrown
and slain, and then Rustem appeared in arms before the conqueror, who
hearing his voice, cried: "Why this arrogance and clamor! I am not like
Ushkabus, a trembler in thy presence." Rustem replied:

"When the lion sees his prey,
Sees the elk-deer cross his way,
Roars he not? The very ground
Trembles at the dreadful sound.
And art thou from terror free,
When opposed in fight to me?"

Kamus now examined him with a stern eye, and was satisfied that he had
to contend against a powerful warrior: he therefore with the utmost
alacrity threw his kamund, which Rustem avoided, but it fell over the
head of his horse Rakush. Anxious to extricate himself from this
dilemma, Rustem dexterously caught hold of one end of the kamund, whilst
Kamus dragged and strained at the other; and so much strength was
applied that the line broke in the middle, and Kamus in consequence
tumbled backwards to the ground. The boaster had almost succeeded in
remounting his horse, when he was secured round the neck by Rustem's own
kamund, and conveyed a prisoner to the Persian army, where he was put to
death!

The fate of Kamus produced a deep sensation among the Turanians, and
Piran-wisah, partaking of the general alarm, and thinking it impossible
to resist the power of Rustem, proposed to retire from the contest, but
the Khakan of Chin was of a different opinion, and offered himself to
remedy the evil which threatened them all. Moreover the warrior,
Chingush, volunteered to fight with Rustem; and having obtained the
Khakan's permission, he took the field, and boldly challenged the
champion. Rustem received the foe with a smiling countenance, and the
struggle began with arrows. After a smart attack on both sides, Chingush
thought it prudent to fly from the overwhelming force of Rustem, who,
however, steadily pursued him, and adroitly seizing the horse by the
tail, hurled him from his saddle.

He grasped the charger's flowing tail,
And all were struck with terror pale,
To see a sight so strange; the foe,
Dismounted by one desperate blow;
The captive asked for life in vain,
His recreant blood bedewed the plain.
His head was from his shoulders wrung,
His body to the vultures flung.

Rustem, after this exploit, invited some other hero to single combat;
but at the moment not one replied to his challenge. At last Human came
forward, not however to fight, but to remonstrate, and make an effort to
put an end to the war which threatened total destruction to his country.
"Why such bitter enmity? why such a whirlwind of resentment?" said he;
"to this I ascribe the calamities under which we suffer; but is there no
way by which this sanguinary career of vengeance can be checked or
moderated?" Rustem, in answer, enumerated the aggressions and the crimes
of Afrasiyab, and especially dwelt on the atrocious murder of Saiawush,
which he declared could never be pardoned. Human wished to know his
name; but Rustem refused to tell him, and requested Piran-wisah might be
sent to him, to whom he would communicate his thoughts, and the secrets
of his heart freely. Human accordingly returned, and informed Piran of
the champion's wishes.

"This must be Rustem, stronger than the pard,
The lion, or the Egyptian crocodile,
Or fell Iblis; dreams never painted hero
Half so tremendous on the battle plain."

The old man said to him:

"If this be Rustem, then the time has come,
Dreaded so long--for what but fire and sword,
Can now await us? Every town laid waste,
Soldier and peasant, husband, wife, and child,
Sharing the miseries of a ravaged land!"

With tears in his eyes and a heavy heart, Piran repaired to the Khakan,
who, after some discussion, permitted him in these terms to go and
confer with Rustem.

"Depart then speedful on thy embassy,
And if he seeks for peace, adjust the terms,
And presents to be sent us. If he talks
Of war and vengeance, and is clothed in mail,
No sign of peace, why we must trust in Heaven
For strength to crush his hopes of victory.
He is not formed of iron, nor of brass,
But flesh and blood, with human nerves and hair,
He does not in the battle tread the clouds,
Nor can he vanish, like the demon race--
Then why this sorrow, why these marks of grief?
He is not stronger than an elephant;
Not he, but I will show him what it is
To fight or gambol with an elephant!
Besides, for every man his army boasts,
We have three hundred--wherefore then be sad?"

Notwithstanding these expressions of confidence, Piran's heart was full
of alarm and terror; but he hastened to the Persian camp, and made
himself known to the champion of the host, who frankly said, after he
had heard Piran's name, "I am Rustem of Zabul, armed as thou seest for
battle!" Upon which Piran respectfully dismounted, and paid the usual
homage to his illustrious rank and distinction. Rustem said to him, "I
bring thee the blessings of Kai-khosrau and Ferangis, his mother, who
nightly see thy face in their dreams."

"Blessings from me, upon that royal youth!"
Exclaimed the good old man. "Blessings on her,
The daughter of Afrasiyab, his mother,
Who saved my life--and blessings upon thee,
Thou matchless hero! Thou hast come for vengeance,
In the dear name of gallant Saiawush,
Of Saiawush, the husband of my child,
(The beautiful Gulshaher), of him who loved me
As I had been his father. His brave son,
Ferud, was slaughtered, and his mother too,
And Khosrau was his brother, now the king,
By whom he fell, or if not by his sword,
Whose was the guilty hand? Has punishment
Been meted to the offender? I protected,
In mine own house, the princess Ferangis;
And when her son was born, Kai-khosrau, still
I, at the risk of my existence, kept them
Safe from the fury of Afrasiyab,
Who would have sacrificed the child, or both!
And night and day I watched them, till the hour
When they escaped and crossed the boundary-stream.
Enough of this! Now let us speak of peace,
Since the confederates in this mighty war
Are guiltless of the blood of Saiawush!"

Rustem, in answer to Piran, observed, that in negotiating the terms of
pacification, several important points were to be considered, and
several indispensable matters to be attended to. No peace could be made
unless the principal actors in the bloody tragedy of Saiawush's death
were first given up, particularly Gersiwaz; vast sums of money were also
required to be presented to the king of kings; and, moreover, Rustem
said he would disdain making peace at all, but that it enabled Piran to
do service to Kai-khosrau. Piran saw the difficulty of acceding to these
demands, but he speedily laid them before the Khakan, who consulted his
confederates on the subject, and after due consideration, their pride
and shame resisted the overtures, which they thought ignominious.
Shinkul, a king of Ind, was a violent opposer of the terms, and declared
against peace on any such conditions. Several other warriors expressed
their readiness to contend against Rustem, and they flattered themselves
that by a rapid succession of attacks, one after the other, they would
easily overpower him. The Khakan was pleased with this conceit and
permitted Shinkul to begin the struggle. Accordingly he entered the
plain, and summoned Rustem to renew the fight. The champion came and
struck him with a spear, which, penetrating his breast, threw him off
his horse to the ground. The dagger was already raised to finish his
career, but he sprang on his feet, and quickly ran away to tell his
misfortune to the Khakan of Chin.

And thus he cried, in look forlorn,
"This foe is not of mortal born;
A furious elephant in fight,
A very mountain to the sight;
No warrior of the human race,
That ever wielded spear or mace,
Alone this dragon could withstand,
Or live beneath his conquering brand!"

The Khakan reminded him how different were his feelings and sentiments
in the morning, and having asked him what he now proposed to do, he said
that without a considerable force it would be useless to return to the
field; five thousand men were therefore assigned to him, and with them
he proceeded to engage the champion. Rustem had also been joined by his
valiant companions, and a general battle ensued. The heavens were
obscured by the dust which ascended from the tramp of the horses, and
the plain was crimsoned with the blood of the slain. In the midst of the
contest, Sawa, a relation of Kamus, burst forward and sought to be
revenged on Rustem for the fate of his friend. The champion raised his
battle-axe, and giving Rakush the rein, with one blow of his mace
removed him to the other world. No sooner had he killed this assailant
than he was attacked by another of the kindred of Kamus, named Kahar,
whom he also slew, and thus humbled the pride of the Kushanians. Elated
with his success, and having further displayed his valor among the
enemy's troops, he vowed that he would now encounter the Khakan himself,
and despoil him of all his pomp and treasure. For this purpose he
selected a thousand horsemen, and thus supported, approached the
kulub-gah, or headquarters of the monarch of Chin. The clamor of the
cavalry, and the clash of spears and swords, resounded afar. The air
became as dark as the visage of an Ethiopian, and the field was covered
with several heads, broken armor, and the bodies of the slain. Amidst
the conflict Rustem called aloud to the Khakan:--

"Surrender to my arms those elephants,
That ivory throne, that crown, and chain of gold;
Fit trophies for Kai-khosrau, Persia's king;
For what hast thou to do with diadem
And sovereign power! My noose shall soon secure thee,
And I will send thee living to his presence;
Since, looking on my valour and my strength,
Life is enough to grant thee. If thou wilt not
Resign thy crown and throne--thy doom is sealed."

The Khakan, filled with indignation at these haughty words, cautioned
Rustem to parry off his own danger, and then commanded his troops to
assail the enemy with a shower of arrows. The attack was so tremendous
and terrifying, even beyond the picturings of a dream, that Gudarz was
alarmed for the safety of Rustem, and sent Reham and Giw to his aid.
Rustem said to Reham:--"I fear that my horse Rakush is becoming weary of
exertion, in which case what shall I do in this conflict with the enemy?
I must attack on foot the Khakan of Chin, though he has an army here as
countless as legions of ants or locusts; but if Heaven continues my
friend, I shall stretch many of them in the dust, and take many
prisoners. The captives I will send to Khosrau, and all the spoils of
Chin." Saying this he pushed forward, roaring like a tiger, towards the
Khakan, and exclaiming with a stern voice:--"The Turks are allied to the
devil, and the wicked are always unprosperous. Thou hast not yet fallen
in with Rustem, or thy brain would have been bewildered. He is a
never-dying dragon, always seeking the strongest in battle. But thou
hast not yet had enough of even me!" He then drew his kamund from the
saddle-strap, and praying to God to grant him victory over his foes,
urged on Rakush, and wherever he threw the noose, his aim was
successful. Great was the slaughter, and the Khakan, seeing from the
back of his white elephant the extent of his loss, and beginning to be
apprehensive about his own safety, ordered one of his warriors, well
acquainted with the language of Iran, to solicit from the enemy a
cessation of hostilities.

"Say whence this wrath on us, this keen revenge?
We never injured Saiawush; the kings
Of Ind and Chin are guiltless of his blood;
Then why this wrath on strangers? Spells and charms,
Used by Afrasiyab--the cause of all--
Have brought us hither to contend against
The champion Rustem; and since peace is better
Than war and bloodshed, let us part in peace."

The messenger having delivered his message, Rustem replied:--

"My words are few. Let him give up his crown,
His golden collar, throne, and elephants;
These are the terms I grant. He came for plunder,
And now he asks for peace. Tell him again,
Till all his treasure and his crown are mine,
His throne and elephants, he seeks in vain
For peace with Rustem, or the Persian king!"

When the Khakan was informed of these reiterated conditions, he burst
out into bitter reproaches and abuse; and with so loud a voice, that the
wind conveyed them distinctly to Rustem's ear. The champion immediately
prepared for the attack; and approaching the enemy, flung his kamund, by
which he at once dragged the Khakan from his white elephant. The hands
of the captured monarch were straightway bound behind his back. Degraded
and helpless he stood, and a single stroke deprived him of his crown,
and throne, and life.

Such are, since time began, the ways of Heaven;
Such the decrees of fate! Sometimes raised up,
And sometimes hunted down by enemies,
Men, struggling, pass through this precarious life,
Exalted now to sovereign power; and now
Steeped in the gulf of poverty and sorrow.
To one is given the affluence of Karun;
Another dies in want. How little know we
What form our future fortune may assume!
The world is all deceit, deception all!

Piran-wisah beheld the disasters of the day, he saw the Khakan of Chin
delivered over to Tus, his death, and the banners of the confederates
overthrown; and sorrowing said:--"This day is the day of flight, not of
victory to us! This is no time for son to protect father, nor father
son--we must fly!" In the meanwhile Rustem, animated by feelings of a
very different kind, gave a banquet to his warrior friends, in
celebration of the triumph.

When the intelligence of the overthrow and death of Kamus and the Khakan
of Chin, and the dispersion of their armies, reached Afrasiyab, he was
overwhelmed with distress and consternation, and expressed his
determination to be revenged on the conquerors. Not an Iranian, he said,
should remain alive; and the doors of his treasury were thrown open to
equip and reward the new army, which was to consist of a hundred
thousand men.

Rustem having communicated to Kai-khosrau, through Friburz, the account
of his success, received the most satisfactory marks of his sovereign's
applause; but still anxious to promote the glory of his country, he
engaged in new exploits. He went against Kafur, the king of the city of
Bidad, a cannibal, who feasted on human flesh, especially on the young
women of his country, and those of the greatest beauty, being the
richest morsels, were first destroyed. He soon overpowered and slew the
monster, and having given his body to be devoured by dogs, plundered and
razed his castle to the ground. After this he invaded and ravaged the
province of Khoten, one of the dependencies of Turan, and recently the
possession of Saiawush, which was a new affliction to Afrasiyab, who,
alarmed about his own empire, dispatched a trusty person secretly to
Rustem's camp, to obtain private intelligence of his hostile movements.
The answer of the spy added considerably to his distress, and in the
dilemma he consulted with Piran-wisah, that he might have the benefit of
the old man's experience and wisdom. Piran told him that he had failed
to make an impression upon the Persians, even assisted by Kamus the
Kashanian, and the Khakan of Chin; both had been slain in battle, and
therefore it would be in vain to attempt further offensive measures
without the most powerful aid. There was, he added, a neighboring king,
named Puladwund, who alone seemed equal to contend with Rustem. He was
of immense stature, and of prodigious strength, and might by the favor
of heaven, be able to subdue him. Afrasiyab was pleased with this
information, and immediately invited Puladwund, by letter, to assist him
in exterminating the champion of Persia. Puladwund was proud of the
honor conferred upon him, and readily complied; hastening the
preparation of his own army to cooperate with that of Afrasiyab. He
presently joined him, and the whole of the combined forces rapidly
marched against the enemy. The first warrior he encountered was Giw,
whom he caught with his kamund. Reham and Byzun seeing this, instantly
rushed forward to extricate their brother and champion in arms; but they
too were also secured in the same manner! In the struggle, however, the
kamunds gave way, and then Puladwund drew his sword, and by several
strokes wounded them all. The father, Gudarz, apprised of this disaster,
which had unfortunately happened to three of his sons, applied to Rustem
for succor. The champion, the refuge, the protector of all, was, as
usual, ready to repel the enemy. He forthwith advanced, liberated his
friends, and dreadful was the conflict which followed. The club was used
with great dexterity on both sides; but at length Puladwund struck his
antagonist such a blow that the sound of it was heard by the troops at a
distance, and Rustem, stunned by its severity, thought himself opposed
with so much vigor, that he prayed to the Almighty for a prosperous
issue to the engagement.

"Should I be in this struggle slain,
What stay for Persia will be left?
None to defend Kai-khosrau's reign,
Of me, his warrior-chief, bereft.
Then village, town, and city gay,
Will feel the cruel Tartar's sway!"

Puladwund wishing to follow up the blow by a final stroke of his sword,
found to his amazement that it recoiled from the armor of Rustem, and
thence he proposed another mode of fighting, which he hoped would be
more successful. He wished to try his power in wrestling. The challenge
was accepted. By agreement both armies retired, and left the space of a
farsang between them, and no one was allowed to afford assistance to
either combatant. Afrasiyab was present, and sent word to Puladwund, the
moment he got Rustem under him, to plunge a sword in his heart. The
contest began, but Puladwund had no opportunity of fulfilling the wishes
of Afrasiyab. Rustem grasped him with such vigor, lifted him up in his
arms, and dashed him so furiously on the plain, that the boaster seemed
to be killed on the spot. Rustem indeed thought he had put a period to
his life; and with that impression left him, and remounted Rakush: but
the crafty Puladwund only pretended to be dead: and as soon as he found
himself released, sprang up and escaped, flying like an arrow to his own
side. He then told Afrasiyab how he had saved his life by counterfeiting
death, and assured him that it was useless to contend against Rustem.
The champion having witnessed this subterfuge, turned round in pursuit,
and the Tartars received him with a shower of arrows; but the attack was
well answered, Puladwund being so alarmed that, without saying a word to
Afrasiyab, he fled from the field. Piran now counselled Afrasiyab to
escape also to the remotest part of Tartary. As the flight of Puladwund
had disheartened the Turanian troops, and there was no chance of
profiting by further resistance, Afrasiyab took his advice, and so
precipitate was his retreat, that he entirely abandoned his standards,
tents, horses, arms, and treasure to an immense amount. The most
valuable booty was sent by Rustem to the king of Iran, and a
considerable portion of it was divided among the chiefs and the soldiers
of the army. He then mounted Rakush, and proceeded to the court of
Kai-khosrau, where he was received with the highest honors and with
unbounded rejoicings. The king opened his jewel chamber, and gave him
the richest rubies, and vessels of gold filled with musk and aloes, and
also splendid garments; a hundred beautiful damsels wearing crowns and
ear-rings, a hundred horses, and a hundred camels. Having thus
terminated triumphantly the campaign, Rustem carried with him to Zabul
the blessings and admiration of his country.

AKWAN DIW

And now we come to Akwan Diw,
Whom Rustem next in combat slew.

One day as Kai-khosrau was sitting in his beautiful garden, abounding in
roses and the balmy luxuriance of spring, surrounded by his warriors,
and enjoying the pleasures of the banquet with music and singing, a
peasant approached, and informed him of a most mysterious apparition. A
wild ass, he said, had come in from the neighboring forest; it had at
least the external appearance of a wild ass, but possessed such
supernatural strength, that it had rushed among the horses in the royal
stables with the ferocity of a lion or a demon, doing extensive injury,
and in fact appeared to be an evil spirit! Kai-khosrau felt assured that
it was something more than it seemed to be, and looked round among his
warriors to know what should be done. It was soon found that Rustem was
the only person capable of giving effectual assistance in this
emergency, and accordingly a message was forwarded to request his
services. The champion instantly complied, and it was not long before he
occupied himself upon the important enterprise. Guided by the peasant,
he proceeded in the first place towards the spot where the mysterious
animal had been seen; but it was not till the fourth day of his search
that he fell in with him, and then, being anxious to secure him alive,
and send him as a trophy to Kai-khosrau, he threw his kamund; but it was
in vain: the wild ass in a moment vanished out of sight! From this
circumstance Rustem observed, "This can be no other than Akwan Diw, and
my weapon must now be either dagger or sword." The next time the wild
ass appeared he pursued him with his drawn sword: but on lifting it up
to strike, nothing was to be seen. He tried again, when he came near
him, both spear and arrow: still the animal vanished, disappointing his
blow; and thus three days and nights he continued fighting, as it were
against a shadow. Wearied at length with his exertions, he dismounted,
and leading Rakush to a green spot near a limpid fountain or rivulet of
spring water, allowed him to graze, and then went to sleep. Akwan Diw
seeing from a distance that Rustem had fallen asleep, rushed towards him
like a whirlwind, and rapidly digging up the ground on every side of
him, took up the plot of ground and the champion together, placed them
upon his head, and walked away with them. Rustem being awakened with the
motion, he was thus addressed by the giant-demon:--

"Warrior! now no longer free!
Tell me what thy wish may be;
Shall I plunge thee in the sea,
Or leave thee on the mountain drear,
None to give thee succour, near?
Tell thy wish to me!"

Rustem, thus deplorably in the power of the demon, began to consider
what was best to be done, and recollecting that it was customary with
that supernatural race to act by the rule of contraries, in opposition
to an expressed desire, said in reply, for he knew that if he was thrown
into the sea there would be a good chance of escape:--

"O, plunge me not in the roaring sea,
The maw of a fish is no home for me;
But cast me forth on the mountain; there
Is the lion's haunt and the tiger's lair;
And for them I shall be a morsel of food,
They will eat my flesh and drink my blood;
But my bones will be left, to show the place
Where this form was devoured by the feline race;
Yes, something will then remain of me,
Whilst nothing escapes from the roaring sea!"

Akwan Diw having heard this particular desire of Rustem, determined at
once to thwart him, and for this purpose he raised him up with his
hands, and flung him from his lofty position headlong into the deep and
roaring ocean. Down he fell, and a crocodile speedily darted upon him
with the eager intention of devouring him alive; but Rustem drew his
sword with alacrity, and severed the monster's head from his body.
Another came, and was put to death in the same manner, and the water was
crimsoned with blood. At last he succeeded in swimming safely on shore,
and instantly returned thanks to Heaven for the signal protection he had
experienced.

Breasting the wave, with fearless skill
He used his glittering brand;
And glorious and triumphant still,
He quickly reached the strand.

He then moved towards the fountain where he had left Rakush; but, to his
great alarm and vexation his matchless horse was not there. He wandered
about for some time, and in the end found him among a herd of horses
belonging to Afrasiyab. Having first caught him, and resumed his seat in
the saddle, he resolved upon capturing and driving away the whole herd,
and conveying them to Kai-khosrau. He was carrying into effect this
resolution when the noise awoke the keepers specially employed by
Afrasiyab, and they, indignant at this outrageous proceeding, called
together a strong party to pursue the aggressor. When they had nearly
reached him, he turned boldly round, and said aloud:--"I am Rustem, the
descendant of Sam. I have conquered Afrasiyab in battle, and after that
dost thou presume to oppose me?" Hearing this, the keepers of the Tartar
stud instantly turned their backs, and ran away.

It so happened that at this period Afrasiyab paid his annual visit to
his nursery of horses, and on his coming to the meadows in which they
were kept, neither horses nor keepers were to be seen. In a short time,
however, he was informed by those who had returned from the pursuit,
that Rustem was the person who had carried off the herd, and upon
hearing of this outrage, he proceeded with his troops at once to attack
him. Impatient at the indignity, he approached Rustem with great fury,
but was presently compelled to fly to save his life, and thus allow his
herd of favorite steeds, together with four elephants, to be placed in
the possession of Kai-khosrau. Rustem then returned to the meadows and
the fountain near the habitation of Akwan Diw; and there he again met
the demon, who thus accosted him:--