Part 12
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.