Part 9
The banquet was resumed again-- And, hark, the softly warbled strain, As harp and flute, in union sweet, The voices of the singers meet. The black-eyed damsels now display Their art in many an amorous lay; And now the song is loud and clear, And speaks of Rustem's welcome here. "This is a day, a glorious day, That drives ungenial thoughts away; This is a day to make us glad, Since Rustem comes for Kai-kobád; O, let us pass our time in glee, And talk of Jemshíd's majesty, The pomp and glory of his reign, And still the sparkling goblet drain.-- Come, Sakí, fill the wine-cup high, And let not even its brim be dry; For wine alone has power to part The rust of sorrow from the heart. Drink to the king, in merry mood, Since fortune smiles, and wine is good; Quaffing red wine is better far Than shedding blood in strife, or war; Man is but dust, and why should he Become a fire of enmity? Drink deep, all other cares resign. For what can vie with ruby wine?"
In this manner ran the song of the revellers. After which, and being rather merry with wine, Kai-kobád told Rustem of the dream that had induced him to descend from his place of refuge on Alberz, and to prepare a banquet on the occasion. He dreamt the night before that two white falcons from Persia placed a splendid crown upon his head, and this vision was interpreted by Rustem as symbolical of his father and himself, who at that moment were engaged in investing him with kingly power. The hero then solicited the young sovereign to hasten his departure for Persia, and preparations were made without delay. They travelled night and day, and fell in with several detachments of the enemy, which were easily repulsed by the valor of Rustem. The fiercest attack proceeded from Kelún, one of Afrásiyáb's warriors, near the confines of Persia, who in the encounter used his spear with great dexterity and address.
But Rustem with his javelin soon transfixed The Tartar knight--who in the eyes of all Looked like a spitted chicken--down he sunk, And all his soldiers fled in wild dismay. Then Rustem turned aside, and found a spot Where verdant meadows smiled, and streamlets flowed, Inviting weary travellers to rest. There they awhile remained--and when the sun Went down, and night had darkened all the sky, The champion joyfully pursued his way, And brought the monarch to his father's house. --Seven days they sat in council--on the eighth Young Kai-kobád was crowned--and placed upon The ivory throne in presence of his warriors, Who all besought him to commence the war Against the Tartar prince, Afrásiyáb.
KAI-KOBÁD
Kai-kobád having been raised to the throne at a council of the warriors, and advised to oppose the progress of Afrásiyáb, immediately assembled his army. Mihráb, the ruler of Kábul, was appointed to one wing, and Gustahem to the other--the centre was given to Kárun and Kishwád, and Rustem was placed in front, Zál with Kai-kobád remaining in the rear. The glorious standard of Kavah streamed upon the breeze.
On the other side, Afrásiyáb prepared for battle, assisted by his heroes Akbás, Wísah, Shimasás, and Gersíwaz; and so great was the clamor and confusion which proceeded from both armies, that earth and sky seemed blended together.[8] The clattering of hoofs, the shrill roar of trumpets, the rattle of brazen drums, and the vivid glittering of spear and shield, produced indescribable tumult and splendor.
Kárun was the first in action, and he brought many a hero to the ground. He singled out Shimasás; and after a desperate struggle, laid him breathless on the field. Rustem, stimulated by these exploits, requested his father, Zál, to point out Afrásiyáb, that he might encounter him; but Zál endeavored to dissuade him from so hopeless an effort, saying,
"My son, be wise, and peril not thyself; Black is his banner, and his cuirass black-- His limbs are cased in iron--on his head He wears an iron helm--and high before him Floats the black ensign; equal in his might To ten strong men, he never in one place Remains, but everywhere displays his power. The crocodile has in the rolling stream No safety; and a mountain, formed of steel, Even at the mention of Afrásiyáb, Melts into water. Then, beware of him." Rustem replied:--"Be not alarmed for me-- My heart, my arm, my dagger, are my castle, And Heaven befriends me--let him but appear, Dragon or Demon, and the field is mine."
Then Rustem valiantly urged Rakush towards the Túránian army, and called out aloud. As soon as Afrásiyáb beheld him, he inquired who he could be, and he was told, "This is Rustem, the son of Zál. Seest thou not in his hand the battle-axe of Sám? The youth has come in search of renown." When the combatants closed, they struggled for some time together, and at length Rustem seized the girdle-belt of his antagonist, and threw him from his saddle. He wished to drag the captive as a trophy to Kai-kobád, that his first great victory might be remembered, but unfortunately the belt gave way, and Afrásiyáb fell on the ground. Immediately the fallen chief was surrounded and rescued by his own warriors, but not before Rustem had snatched off his crown, and carried it away with the broken girdle which was left in his hand. And now a general engagement took place. Rustem being reinforced by the advance of the king, with Zál and Mihráb at his side--
Both armies seemed so closely waging war, Thou wouldst have said, that they were mixed together. The earth shook with the tramping of the steeds, Rattled the drums; loud clamours from the troops Echoed around, and from the iron grasp Of warriors, many a life was spent in air. With his huge mace, cow-headed, Rustem dyed The ground with crimson--and wherever seen, Urging impatiently his fiery horse, Heads severed fell like withered leaves in autumn. If, brandishing his sword, he struck the head, Horseman and steed were downward cleft in twain-- And if his side-long blow was on the loins, The sword passed through, as easily as the blade Slices a cucumber. The blood of heroes Deluged the plain. On that tremendous day, With sword and dagger, battle-axe and noose,[9] He cut, and tore, and broke, and bound the brave, Slaying and making captive. At one swoop More than a thousand fell by his own hand.
Zál beheld his son with amazement and delight. The Túránians left the fire-worshippers in possession of the field, and retreated towards the Jihún with precipitation, not a sound of drum or trumpet denoting their track. After halting three days in a state of deep dejection and misery, they continued their retreat along the banks of the Jihún. The Persian army, upon the flight of the enemy, fell back with their prisoners of war, and Rustem was received by the king with distinguished honor. When Afrásiyáb returned to his father, he communicated to him, with a heavy heart, the misfortunes of the battle, and the power that had been arrayed against him, dwelling with wonder and admiration on the stupendous valor of Rustem.
Seeing my sable banner, He to the fight came like a crocodile, Thou wouldst have said his breath scorched up the plain; He seized my girdle with such mighty force As if he would have torn my joints asunder; And raised me from my saddle--that I seemed An insect in his grasp--but presently The golden girdle broke, and down I fell Ingloriously upon the dusty ground; But I was rescued by my warrior train! Thou knowest my valour, how my nerves are strung, And may conceive the wondrous strength, which thus Sunk me to nothing. Iron is his frame, And marvellous his power; peace, peace, alone Can save us and our country from destruction.
Poshang, considering the luckless state of affairs, and the loss of so many valiant warriors, thought it prudent to acquiesce in the wishes of Afrásiyáb, and sue for peace. To this end Wísah was intrusted with magnificent presents, and the overtures which in substance ran thus: "Minúchihr was revenged upon Túr and Sílim for the death of Irij. Afrásiyáb again has revenged their death upon Nauder, the son of Minúchihr, and now Rustem has conquered Afrásiyáb. But why should we any longer keep the world in confusion--Why should we not be satisfied with what Feridún, in his wisdom, decreed? Continue in the empire which he appropriated to Irij, and let the Jihún be the boundary between us, for are we not connected by blood, and of one family? Let our kingdoms be gladdened with the blessings of peace."
When these proposals of peace reached Kai-kobád, the following answer was returned:
"Well dost thou know that I was not the first To wage this war. From Túr, thy ancestor, The strife began. Bethink thee how he slew The gentle Irij--his own brother;--how, In these our days, thy son, Afrásiyáb, Crossing the Jihún, with a numerous force Invaded Persia--think how Nauder died! Not in the field of battle, like a hero, But murdered by thy son--who, ever cruel, Afterwards stabbed his brother, young Aghríras, So deeply mourned by thee. Yet do I thirst not For vengeance, or for strife. I yield the realm Beyond the Jihún--let that river be The boundary between us; but thy son, Afrásiyáb, must take his solemn oath Never to cross that limit, or disturb The Persian throne again; thus pledged, I grant The peace solicited."
The messenger without delay conveyed this welcome intelligence to Poshang, and the Túránian army was in consequence immediately withdrawn within the prescribed line of division, Rustem, however, expostulated with the king against making peace at a time the most advantageous for war, and especially when he had just commenced his victorious career; but Kai-kobád thought differently, and considered nothing equal to justice and tranquillity. Peace was accordingly concluded, and upon Rustem and Zál he conferred the highest honors, and his other warriors engaged in the late conflict also experienced the effects of his bounty and gratitude in an eminent degree.
Kai-kobád then moved towards Persia, and establishing his throne at Istakhar,[10] he administered the affairs of his government with admirable benevolence and clemency, and with unceasing solicitude for the welfare of his subjects. In his eyes every one had an equal claim to consideration and justice. The strong had no power to oppress the weak. After he had continued ten years at Istakhar, building towns and cities, and diffusing improvement and happiness over the land, he removed his throne into Irán. His reign lasted one hundred years, which were passed in the continued exercise of the most princely virtues, and the most munificent liberality. He had four sons: Kai-káús, Arish, Poshín and Aramín; and when the period of his dissolution drew nigh, he solemnly enjoined the eldest, whom he appointed his successor, to pursue steadily the path of integrity and justice, and to be kind and merciful in the administration of the empire left to his charge.
KAI-KÁÚS
When Kai-káús[11] ascended the throne of his father, the whole world was obedient to his will; but he soon began to deviate from the wise customs and rules which had been recommended as essential to his prosperity and happiness. He feasted and drank wine continually with his warriors and chiefs, so that in the midst of his luxurious enjoyments he looked upon himself as superior to every being upon the face of the earth, and thus astonished the people, high and low, by his extravagance and pride.
One day a Demon, disguised as a musician, waited upon the monarch, and playing sweetly on his harp, sung a song in praise of Mázinderán.
And thus he warbled to the king-- "Mázinderán is the bower of spring, My native home; the balmy air Diffuses health and fragrance there; So tempered is the genial glow, Nor heat nor cold we ever know; Tulips and hyacinths abound On every lawn; and all around Blooms like a garden in its prime, Fostered by that delicious clime. The bulbul sits on every spray, And pours his soft melodious lay; Each rural spot its sweets discloses, Each streamlet is the dew of roses; And damsels, idols of the heart, Sustain a more bewitching part. And mark me, that untravelled man Who never saw Mázinderán, And all the charms its bowers possess, Has never tasted happiness!"
No sooner had Kai-káús heard this description of the country of Mázinderán than he determined to lead an army thither, declaring to his warriors that the splendor and glory of his reign should exceed that of either Jemshíd, Zohák, or Kai-kobád. The warriors, however, were alarmed at this precipitate resolution, thinking it certain destruction to make war against the Demons; but they had not courage or confidence enough to disclose their real sentiments. They only ventured to suggest, that if his majesty reflected a little on the subject, he might not ultimately consider the enterprise so advisable as he had at first imagined. But this produced no impression, and they then deemed it expedient to despatch a messenger to Zál, to inform him of the wild notions which the Evil One had put into the head of Kai-káús to effect his ruin, imploring Zál to allow of no delay, otherwise the eminent services so lately performed by him and Rustem for the state would be rendered utterly useless and vain. Upon this summons, Zál immediately set off from Sístán to Irán; and having arrived at the royal court, and been received with customary respect and consideration, he endeavored to dissuade the king from the contemplated expedition into Mázinderán.
"O, could I wash the darkness from thy mind, And show thee all the perils that surround This undertaking! Jemshíd, high in power, Whose diadem was brilliant as the sun, Who ruled the demons--never in his pride Dreamt of the conquest of Mázinderán! Remember Feridún, he overthrew Zohák--destroyed the tyrant, but he never Thought of the conquest of Mázinderán! This strange ambition never fired the souls Of by-gone monarchs--mighty Minúchihr, Always victorious, boundless in his wealth, Nor Zau, nor Nauder, nor even Kai-kobád, With all their pomp, and all their grandeur, ever Dreamt of the conquest of Mázinderán! It is the place of demon-sorcerers, And all enchanted. Swords are useless there, Nor bribery nor wisdom can obtain Possession of that charm-defended land, Then throw not men and treasure to the winds; Waste not the precious blood of warriors brave, In trying to subdue Mázinderán!"
Kai-káús, however, was not to be diverted from his purpose; and with respect to what his predecessors had not done, he considered himself superior in might and influence to either Feridún, Jemshíd, Minúchihr, or Kai-kobád, who had never aspired to the conquest of Mázinderán. He further observed, that he had a bolder heart, a larger army, and a fuller treasury than any of them, and the whole world was under his sway--
And what are all these Demon-charms, That they excite such dread alarms? What is a Demon-host to me, Their magic spells and sorcery? One effort, and the field is won; Then why should I the battle shun? Be thou and Rustem (whilst afar I wage the soul-appalling war), The guardians of the kingdom; Heaven To me hath its protection given; And, when I reach the Demon's fort, Their severed heads shall be my sport!
When Zál became convinced of the unalterable resolution of Kai-káús, he ceased to oppose his views, and expressed his readiness to comply with whatever commands he might receive for the safety of the state.
May all thy actions prosper--may'st thou never Have cause to recollect my warning voice, With sorrow or repentance. Heaven protect thee!
Zál then took leave of the king and his warrior friends, and returned to Sístán, not without melancholy forebodings respecting the issue of the war against Mázinderán.
As soon as morning dawned, the army was put in motion. The charge of the empire, and the keys of the treasury and jewel-chamber were left in the hands of Mílad, with injunctions, however, not to draw a sword against any enemy that might spring up, without the consent and assistance of Zál and Rustem. When the army had arrived within the limits of Mázinderán, Kai-káús ordered Gíw to select two thousand of the bravest men, the boldest wielders of the battle-axe, and proceed rapidly towards the city. In his progress, according to the king's instructions, he burnt and destroyed everything of value, mercilessly slaying man, woman, and child. For the king said:
Kill all before thee, whether young or old, And turn their day to night; thus free the world From the magician's art.
Proceeding in his career of desolation and ruin, Gíw came near to the city, and found it arrayed in all the splendor of heaven; every street was crowded with beautiful women, richly adorned, and young damsels with faces as bright as the moon. The treasure-chamber was full of gold and jewels, and the country abounded with cattle. Information of this discovery was immediately sent to Kai-káús, who was delighted to find that Mázinderán was truly a blessed region, the very garden of beauty, where the cheeks of the women seemed to be tinted with the hue of the pomegranate flower, by the gate-keeper of Paradise.
This invasion filled the heart of the king of Mázinderán with grief and alarm, and his first care was to call the gigantic White Demon to his aid. Meanwhile Kai-káús, full of the wildest anticipations of victory, was encamped on the plain near the city in splendid state, and preparing to commence the final overthrow of the enemy on the following day. In the night, however, a cloud came, and deep darkness like pitch overspread the earth, and tremendous hail-stones poured down upon the Persian host, throwing them into the greatest confusion. Thousands were destroyed, others fled, and were scattered abroad in the gloom. The morning dawned, but it brought no light to the eyes of Kai-káús; and amidst the horrors he experienced, his treasury was captured, and the soldiers of his army either killed or made prisoners of war. Then did he bitterly lament that he had not followed the wise counsel of Zál. Seven days he was involved in this dreadful affliction, and on the eighth day he heard the roar of the White Demon, saying:
"O king, thou art the willow-tree, all barren, With neither fruit, nor flower. What could induce The dream of conquering Mázinderán? Hadst thou no friend to warn thee of thy folly? Hadst thou not heard of the White Demon's power-- Of him, who from the gorgeous vault of Heaven Can charm the stars? From this mad enterprise Others have wisely shrunk--and what hast thou Accomplished by a more ambitious course? Thy soldiers have slain many, dire destruction And spoil have been their purpose--thy wild will Has promptly been obeyed; but thou art now Without an army, not one man remains To lift a sword, or stand in thy defence; Not one to hear thy groans and thy despair."
There were selected from the army twelve thousand of the demon-warriors, to take charge of and hold in custody the Iránian captives, all the chiefs, as well as the soldiers, being secured with bonds, and only allowed food enough to keep them alive. Arzang, one of the demon-leaders, having got possession of the wealth, the crown and jewels, belonging to Kai-káús, was appointed to escort the captive king and his troops, all of whom were deprived of sight, to the city of Mázinderán, where they were delivered into the hands of the monarch of that country. The White Demon, after thus putting an end to hostilities, returned to his own abode.
Kai-káús, strictly guarded as he was, found an opportunity of sending an account of his blind and helpless condition to Zál, in which he lamented that he had not followed his advice, and urgently requested him, if he was not himself in confinement, to come to his assistance, and release him from captivity. When Zál heard the melancholy story, he gnawed the very skin of his body with vexation, and turning to Rustem, conferred with him in private.
"The sword must be unsheathed, since Kai-káús Is bound a captive in the dragon's den, And Rakush must be saddled for the field, And thou must bear the weight of this emprize; For I have lived two centuries, and old age Unfits me for the heavy toils of war. Should'st thou release the king, thy name will be Exalted o'er the earth.--Then don thy mail, And gain immortal honor."
Rustem replied that it was a long journey to Mázinderán, and that the king had been six months on the road. Upon this Zál observed that there were two roads--the most tedious one was that which Kai-káús had taken; but by the other, which was full of dangers and difficulty, and lions, and demons, and sorcery, he might reach Mázinderán in seven days, if he reached it at all.
On hearing these words Rustem assented, and chose the short road, observing:
"Although it is not wise, they say, With willing feet to track the way To hell; though only men who've lost, All love of life, by misery crossed, Would rush into the tiger's lair, And die, poor reckless victims, there; I gird my loins, whate'er may be, And trust in God for victory."
On the following day, resigning himself to the protection of Heaven, he put on his war attire, and with his favorite horse, Rakush, properly caparisoned, stood prepared for the journey. His mother, Rúdábeh, took leave of him with great sorrow; and the young hero departed from Sístán, consoling himself and his friends, thus:
"O'er him who seeks the battle-field, Nobly his prisoned king to free, Heaven will extend its saving shield, And crown his arms with victory."
THE SEVEN LABORS OF RUSTEM
First Stage.--He rapidly pursued his way, performing two days' journey in one, and soon came to a forest full of wild asses. Oppressed with hunger, he succeeded in securing one of them, which he roasted over a fire, lighted by sparks produced by striking the point of his spear, and kept in a blaze with dried grass and branches of trees. After regaling himself, and satisfying his hunger, he loosened the bridle of Rakush, and allowed him to graze; and choosing a safe place for repose during the night, and taking care to have his sword under his head, he went to sleep among the reeds of that wilderness. In a short space a fierce lion appeared, and attacked Rakush with great violence; but Rakush very speedily with his teeth and heels put an end to his furious assailant. Rustem, awakened by the confusion, and seeing the dead lion before him, said to his favorite companion:--
"Ah! Rakush, why so thoughtless grown, To fight a lion thus alone; For had it been thy fate to bleed, And not thy foe, my gallant steed! How could thy master have conveyed His helm, and battle-axe, and blade, Kamund, and bow, and buberyán, Unaided, to Mázinderán? Why didst thou fail to give the alarm, And save thyself from chance of harm, By neighing loudly in my ear; But though thy bold heart knows no fear, From such unwise exploits refrain, Nor try a lion's strength again."
Saying this, Rustem laid down to sleep, and did not awake till the morning dawned. As the sun rose, he remounted Rakush, and proceeded on his journey towards Mázinderán.