Part 11
"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.