Part 13

"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."