THE SHÁH NÁMEH (continued 3)

"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 Káús is prisoned—thy reward Shall be the kingdom of Mázinderán; 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," Aúlád at once replied— "Thy wish shall be fulfilled—and thou shalt know Where king Káús 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 Mázinderán; 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 Káús." With obedient haste Aúlád 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 Káús 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 Mázinderán," Aúlád 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 Aúlád, 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-káús was confined; and when the champion entered the city of Mázinderán, the neighing of Rakush was so loud that the sound distinctly reached the ears of the captive monarch. Káús 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. Gúdarz, and Tús, and Báhrám, and Gíw, 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 Káús 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 Mázinderán, 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 Aúlád, 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 Aúlád, 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 Aúlád 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 Zál, my father, Descended from the champion Sám Súwár, To be revenged on thee—the King of Persia Being now a prisoner in Mázinderán." When the accursed Demon heard the name Of Sám Súwár, 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 Mázinderán." 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 Aúlád, released him from the tree, and gave into his charge the heart of the White Demon. He then pursued his journey back to Káús at Mázinderán. On the way Aúlád 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 Mázinderán, The Demon-king, must be subdued, and cast Into the yawning cavern—and his legions Of foul enchanters, utterly destroyed."

Upon his arrival at Mázinderán, 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-káús 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.

Káús afterwards sent Ferhád as an ambassador to the king of Mázinderán, 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 Mázinderán heard from Ferhád the purpose of his embassy, he expressed great astonishment, and replied that he himself was superior in all respects to Káús; that his empire was more extensive, and his warriors more numerous and brave. "Have I not," said he, "a hundred war-elephants, and Káús 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 Ferhád, who returning quickly, told Káús of the proud bearing and fancied power of the ruler of Mázinderán. 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 Mázinderán, 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, Kálahúr, and directed him to go and punish, signally, the warrior who had thus presumed to triumph over one of his heroes. Accordingly Kálahúr 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 Kálahúr 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 Káús 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 Mázinderán!" "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 Káús 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, Káús 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 Mázinderán, 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 Káús 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 Káús, 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, Aúlád was appointed governor of Mázinderán. After the usual thanksgivings and rejoicings on account of the victory, Káús 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 Zál at Zábulistán.

Suddenly an ardent desire arose in the heart of Káús to survey all the provinces and states of his empire. He wished to visit Túrán, and Chín, and Mikrán, and Berber, and Zirra. Having commenced his royal tour of inspection, he found the King of Berberistán 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, Káús turned towards the mountain Káf, and visited various other countries, and in his progress became the guest of the son of Zál in Zábulistán where he stayed a month, enjoying the pleasures of the festive board and the sports of the field.

The disaffection of the King of Hámáverán, in league with the King of Misser and Shám, and the still hostile King of Berberistán, soon, however, drew him from Ním-rúz, 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, Káús was informed that the Sháh had a daughter of great beauty, named Súdáveh, 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 Súdáveh descended from her litter, glowing with beauty, with her rich dark tresses flowing to her feet, and cheeks like the rose, Káús 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 Sháh of Hámáverán, however, was not satisfied, and he continually plotted within himself how he might contrive to regain possession of Súdáveh, as well as be revenged upon the king. With this view he invited Káús to be his guest for a while; but Súdáveh 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 Káús 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 IRÁN BY AFRÁSIYÁB

The intelligence of Káús's imprisonment was very soon spread through the world, and operated as a signal to all the inferior states to get possession of Irán. Afrásiyáb was the most powerful aspirant to the throne; and gathering an immense army, he hurried from Túrán, 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 Zábulistán, by whom Rustem was informed of the misfortunes in which Káús 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 Hámáverán, 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 Mázinderán. Although this threat produced considerable alarm in the breast of the king of Hámáverán, he arrogantly replied, that if Rustem wished to be placed in the same situation as Káús, he was welcome to come as soon as he liked.

Upon hearing this defiance, Rustem left Zábulistán, and after an arduous journey by land and water, arrived at the confines of Hámáverán. 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 Hámáverán 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 Hámáverán 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 Báhrám, 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 Sháh of Berberistán, which, valorously aided as he was, by Zúára, he soon vanquished and dispatched; and impelling Rakush impetuously forward upon the sháh himself, made him and forty of his principal chiefs prisoners of war. The King of Hámáverán, 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 Káús 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.

"Káús 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-KÁÚS

It was a joyous day when Káús 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, Berberistán, and Hámáverán, having declared their allegiance to the Persian king, the accumulated numbers increased Káús's army to upwards of three hundred thousand men, horse and foot, and with this immense force he moved towards Irán. Before marching, however, he sent a message to Afrásiyáb, commanding him to quit the country he had so unjustly invaded, and recommending him to be contented with the territory of Túrán.

"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 Afrásiyáb, 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. Afrásiyáb 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 Túrán, leaving Káús 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.

Káús 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 Níshapúr, and Hírát. At the same time he conferred on Rustem the title of Jaháni Pahlván, or, Champion of the World.

In safety now from foreign and domestic enemies, Káús 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.

Iblís, 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 Káús; 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 Káús 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 Káús 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 Chín. There Káús 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 Gúdarz, and Tús, 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 Gúdarz, "never did I see such a man as Káús. 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 Mázinderán, then at Hámáverán, and now he is being punished for attempting to discover the secrets of the Heavens!" When they reached the wilderness into which Káús had fallen, Gúdarz 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 Feridún and Jemshíd.

One day Rustem made a splendid feast; and whilst he and his brother warriors, Gíw and Gúdarz, and Tús, were quaffing their wine, it was determined upon to form a pretended hunting party, and repair to the sporting grounds of Afrásiyáb. 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. Afrásiyáb 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 Káús will soon cease to be the sovereign of Persia." To accomplish this object, a Túránian 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 Garáz: "Fortune favors me; what cause is there to fear the king of Túrán? 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 Túránian heroes? Let Afrásiyáb 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 Zábul; and in one of them Rustem pledged his royal master with loyalty, and Tús and Zúára joined in the convivial and social demonstration of attachment to the king.

The champion arrayed in his buburiyán, mounted Rakush, and advanced towards the Túránian army. Afrásiyáb, when he beheld him in all his terrible strength and vigor, was amazed and disheartened, accompanied, as he was, by Tús, and Gúdarz, and Gurgín, and Gíw, and Báhrám, and Berzín, and Ferhád. 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 Afrásiyáb 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!" Pílsum heard the promise, and was ambitious of earning the reward; but fate decreed it otherwise. His prodigious efforts were of no avail. Alkús was equally unsuccessful, though the bravest of the brave among the Túránian 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 Túránians, 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-káús 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 SOHRÁB

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 Múbid 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, Túrán'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 Samengán; "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 Zál 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 Tahmíneh 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, Tahmíneh 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. Túrán'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 Samengán 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 Múbid, 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 Sám 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 Sístán rushes like the wind.

But when returned to Zábul'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 Tahmíneh's tears supprest, And lull'd the sorrows of her heart to rest; To him, predestined to be great and brave, The name Sohráb 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, Tahmíneh'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 Sám remotest realms admire, And Zál, 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; Afrásiyáb 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; Káús 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 Túrán 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? Káús, 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, Sohráb was seen—a Grecian helmet graced His brow—and costliest mail his limbs embraced.

Afrásiyáb 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 Húmán and Bármán the charge consigns, And thus his force with Samengán 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, Sohráb 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, Káús 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 Hujír 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?" Sohráb 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; Sohráb, advancing, hurls his steady spear Full on the middle of the vain Hujír, 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 Húmán, who amazed beheld How soon Sohráb his daring soul had quelled.

When Gúrd-afríd, 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 Sohráb 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 Gúrd-áfríd 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 Sohráb 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 Sohráb—"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 Túrán! 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 Káús 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 Gúrd-afríd, 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: Sohráb his name; like Sám Suwár he shows, Or Rustem terrible amidst his foes. The bold Hujír 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; Sohráb, 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 Sohráb 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 Túránian 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 Túrán 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 Káús thunders o'er thy head! Till Tús, and Gíw, and Gúdarz, and Báhrám, And Rustem brave, Ferámurz, and Rehám, 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!"

Húmán's warm speech, the spirit-stirring theme, Awoke Sohráb 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! "Afrásiyáb," 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 Káús, this dire invasion known, Had called his chiefs around his ivory throne: There stood Gurgín, and Báhrám, and Gushwád, And Tús, and Gíw, and Gúdárz, and Ferhád; 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, Hujír is vanquished, ruin tracks his way; Strong as a raging elephant in fight, No arm but thine can match his furious might. Mázinderán 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 Gíw, 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 Gíw enough was said, Nor rest, nor taste of food, his speed delayed. And when arrived, where Zábul'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 Gíw 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 Gíw, apart, his secret mission told— The written page was speedily unrolled.

Struck with amazement, Rustem—"Now on earth A warrior-knight of Sám'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 Sám, like Narímán, a warrior bred! He cannot be my son, unknown to me; Reason forbids the thought—it cannot be! At Samengán, where once affection smiled, To me Tahmíneh 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 Nírum'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 Hujír 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 Káús 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, Zúára leads His veteran troops from Zábul's verdant meads.[21]

Ere Rustem had approached his journey's end, Tús, Gúdarz, Gushwád, 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 Gíw 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 Tús, 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 Tús contemptuous braved?[23] On me shall Tús, shall Káús dare to frown? On me, the bulwark of the regal crown? Wherefore should fear in Rustem's breast have birth, Káús, to me, a worthless clod of earth! Go, and thyself Sohráb'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, Rúm, Mázinderán, and Chín! 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-kobád 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 Gúdarz 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. Gúdarz 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 Zábul 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] Káús, 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 Gúdarz 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 Gúdarz thus (consummate art inspired His prudent tongue, with all that zeal required); "When Rustem dreads Sohráb'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 Káús 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, Káús, 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 Túrán, with dread surprise, Saw o'er the plain successive myriads rise; And showed them to Sohráb; he, mounting high The fort, surveyed them with a fearless eye; To Húmán, 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, Afrásiyáb! for thee, And make this desert seem a rolling sea." Thus, while amazement every bosom quell'd, Sohráb, 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 Sohráb 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. Húmán and Bármán, 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 Sohráb, 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 Gíw 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 Gíw the secret tale astonished hears; From thence the Champion on the Monarch waits. The power and splendour of Sohráb 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 Sám, 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, Sohráb 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 Hujír, 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," Hujír 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 Káús hold his kingly state, Where Tús, and Gúdarz, on his bidding wait; Gíw, Gust'hem, and Báhrám—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 Káús 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; Tús 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 Gúdarz, 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 Sohráb. Hujír 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— Sohráb 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!"

"Gíw, son of Gúdarz, 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? Fríburz, 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?"

"Guráz, 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 Hujír 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 Sohráb—"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 Zábul'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 Múbid 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, Hujír 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."

Hujír 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! Káús 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!"

Sohráb 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 Káús 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 Fríburz, Tús, Gíw, Gúdarz, be, And the world-conquering Rustem, where is he?"

No prompt reply from Persian lip ensued— Then rushing on, with demon-strength endued, Sohráb elate his javelin waved around, And hurled the bright pavilion to the ground; With horror Káús 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 Tús 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, Girgín incessant cried—"Speed, speed, away." Rehám bound on the mace, Tús promptly ran, And buckled on the broad Burgustuwán. 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 Zúára. When, surprised, he views Sohráb, endued with ample breast and thews, Like Sám Suwár, 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."