Then Rustem, sick of martial pomp and show, Himself the spring of all this scene of woe, Doomed to the flames the pageantry he loved, Shield, spear, and mace, so oft in battle proved; Now lost to all, encompa.s.sed by despair; His bright pavilion crackling blazed in air; The sparkling throne the ascending column fed; In smoking fragments fell the golden bed; The raging fire red glimmering died away, And all the Warrior's pride in dust and ashes lay.

Kaus, the King, now joins the mournful Chief, And tries to soothe his deep and settled grief; For soon or late we yield our vital breath, And all our worldly troubles end in death!

"When first I saw him, graceful in his might, He looked far other than a Tartar knight; Wondering I gazed--now Destiny has thrown Him on thy sword--he fought, and he is gone; And should even Heaven against the earth be hurled, Or fire inwrap in crackling flames the world, That which is past--we never can restore, His soul has travelled to some happier sh.o.r.e.

Alas! no good from sorrow canst thou reap, Then wherefore thus in gloom and misery weep?"

But Rustem's mighty woes disdained his aid, His heart was drowned in grief, and thus he said: "Yes, he is gone! to me for ever lost!

O then protect his brave unguided host; From war removed and this detested place, Let them, unharmed, their mountain-wilds retrace; Bid them secure my brother's will obey, The careful guardian of their weary way,[48]

To where the Jihun's distant waters stray."

To this the King: "My soul is sad to see Thy hopeless grief--but, since approved by thee, The war shall cease--though the Turanian brand Has spread dismay and terror through the land."

The King, appeased, no more with vengeance burned, The Tartar legions to their homes returned; The Persian warriors, gathering round the dead, Grovelled in dust, and tears of sorrow shed; Then back to loved Iran their steps the monarch led.

But Rustem, midst his native bands, remained, And further rites of sacrifice maintained; A thousand horses bled at his command, And the torn drums were scattered o'er the sand; And now through Zabul's deep and bowery groves, In mournful pomp the sad procession moves.

The mighty Chief on foot precedes the bier; His Warrior-friends, in grief a.s.sembled near: The dismal cadence rose upon the gale, And Zal astonished heard the piercing wail; He and his kindred joined the solemn train; Hung round the bier and wondering viewed the slain.

"There gaze, and weep!" the sorrowing Father said, "For there, behold my glorious offspring dead!"

The h.o.a.ry Sire shrunk backward with surprise, And tears of blood o'erflowed his aged eyes; And now the Champion's rural palace gate Receives the funeral group in gloomy state; Rudabeh loud bemoaned the Stripling's doom; Sweet flower, all drooping in the hour of bloom, His tender youth in distant bowers had past, Sheltered at home he felt no withering blast; In the soft prison of his mother's arms, Secure from danger and the world's alarms.

O ruthless Fortune! flushed with generous pride, He sought his sire, and thus unhappy, died.

Rustem again the sacred bier unclosed; Again Sohrab to public view exposed; Husbands, and wives, and warriors, old and young, Struck with amaze, around the body hung, With garments rent and loosely flowing hair; Their shrieks and clamours filled the echoing air; Frequent they cried: "Thus Sam the Champion slept!

Thus sleeps Sohrab!" Again they groaned, and wept.

Now o'er the corpse a yellow robe is spread, The aloes bier is closed upon the dead; And, to preserve the hapless hero's name, Fragrant and fresh, that his unblemished fame Might live and bloom through all succeeding days, A mound sepulchral on the spot they raise, Formed like a charger's hoof.

In every ear The story has been told--and many a tear, Shed at the sad recital. Through Turan, Afrasiyab's wide realm, and Samengan, Deep sunk the tidings--nuptial bower, and bed, And all that promised happiness, had fled!

But when Tahmineh heard this tale of woe, Think how a mother bore the mortal blow!

Distracted, wild, she sprang from place to place; With frenzied hands deformed her beauteous face; The musky locks her polished temples crowned.

Furious she tore, and flung upon the ground; Starting, in agony of grief, she gazed-- Her swimming eyes to Heaven imploring raised; And groaning cried: "Sole comfort of my life!

Doomed the sad victim of unnatural strife, Where art thou now with dust and blood defiled?

Thou darling boy, my lost, my murdered child!

When thou wert gone--how, night and lingering day, Did thy fond mother watch the time away; For hope still pictured all I wished to see, Thy father found, and thou returned to me, Yes--thou, exulting in thy father's fame!

And yet, nor sire nor son, nor tidings, came: How could I dream of this? ye met--but how?

That n.o.ble aspect--that ingenuous brow, Moved not a nerve in him--ye met--to part, Alas! the life-blood issuing from the heart Short was the day which gave to me delight, Soon, soon, succeeds a long and dismal night; On whom shall now devolve my tender care?

Who, loved like thee, my bosom-sorrows share?

Whom shall I take to fill thy vacant place, To whom extend a mother's soft embrace?

Sad fate! for one so young, so fair, so brave, Seeking thy father thus to find a grave.

These arms no more shall fold thee to my breast, No more with thee my soul be doubly blest; No, drowned in blood thy lifeless body lies, For ever torn from these desiring eyes; Friendless, alone, beneath a foreign sky, Thy mail thy death-clothes--and thy father, by; Why did not I conduct thee on the way, And point where Rustem's bright pavilion lay?

Thou hadst the tokens--why didst thou withhold Those dear remembrances--that pledge of gold?

Hadst thou the bracelet to his view restored, Thy precious blood had never stained his sword."

The strong emotion choked her panting breath, Her veins seemed withered by the cold of death: The trembling matrons hastening round her mourned, With piercing cries, till fluttering life returned; Then gazing up, distraught, she wept again, And frantic, seeing 'midst her pitying train, The favourite steed--now more than ever dear, The hoofs she kissed, and bathed with many a tear; Clasping the mail Sohrab in battle wore, With burning lips she kissed it o'er and o'er; His martial robes she in her arms comprest, And like an infant strained them to her breast; The reins, and trappings, club, and spear, were brought, The sword, and shield, with which the Stripling fought, These she embraced with melancholy joy, In sad remembrance of her darling boy.

And still she beat her face, and o'er them hung, As in a trance--or to them wildly clung-- Day after day she thus indulged her grief, Night after night, disdaining all relief; At length worn out--from earthly anguish riven, The mother's spirit joined her child in Heaven.

THE STORY OF SAIaWUSH

Early one morning as the c.o.c.k crew, Tus arose, and accompanied by Giw and Gudarz and a company of hors.e.m.e.n, proceeded on a hunting excursion, not far from the banks of the Jihun, where, after ranging about the forest for some time, they happened to fall in with a damsel of extreme beauty, with smiling lips, blooming cheeks, and fascinating mien. They said to her:

"Never was seen so sweet a flower, In garden, vale, or fairy bower; The moon is on thy lovely face, Thy cypress-form is full of grace; But why, with charms so soft and meek, Dost thou the lonely forest seek?"

She replied that her father was a violent man, and that she had left her home to escape his anger. She had crossed the river Jihun, and had travelled several leagues on foot, in consequence of her horse being too much fatigued to bear her farther. She had at that time been three days in the forest. On being questioned respecting her parentage, she said her father's name was Shiwer, of the race of Feridun. Many sovereigns had been suitors for her hand, but she did not approve of one of them.

At last he wanted to marry her to Poshang, the ruler of Turan, but she refused him on account of his ugliness and bad temper! This she said was the cause of her father's violence, and of her flight from home.

"But when his angry mood is o'er, He'll love his daughter as before; And send his hors.e.m.e.n far and near, To take me to my mother dear; Therefore, I would not further stray, But here, without a murmur, stay."

The hearts of both Tus and Giw were equally inflamed with love for the damsel, and each was equally determined to support his own pretensions, in consequence of which a quarrel arose between them. At length it was agreed to refer the matter to the king, and to abide by his decision.

When, however, the king beheld the lovely object of contention, he was not disposed to give her to either claimant, but without hesitation took her to himself, after having first ascertained that she was of distinguished family and connection. In due time a son was born to him, who was, according to the calculations of the astrologers, of wonderful promise, and named Saiawush. The prophecies about his surprising virtues, and his future renown, made Kaus anxious that justice should be done to his opening talents, and he was highly gratified when Rustem agreed to take him to Zabulistan, and there instruct him in all the accomplishments which were suitable to his ill.u.s.trious rank. He was accordingly taught horsemanship and archery, how to conduct himself at banquets, how to hunt with the falcon and the leopard, and made familiar with the manners and duty of kings, and the hardy chivalry of the age.

His progress in the attainment of every species of knowledge and science was surprising, and in hunting he never stooped to the pursuit of animals inferior to the lion or the tiger. It was not long before the youth felt anxious to pay a visit to his father, and Rustem willingly complying with his wishes, accompanied his accomplished pupil to the royal court, where they were both received with becoming distinction, Saiawush having fulfilled Kaus's expectations in the highest degree, and the king's grat.i.tude to the champion being in proportion to the eminent merit of his services on the interesting occasion. After this, however, preceptors were continued to enlighten his mind seven years longer, and then he was emanc.i.p.ated from further application and study.

One day Sudaveh, the daughter of the Shah of Hamaveran, happening to see Saiawush sitting with his father, the beauty of his person made an instantaneous impression on her heart,

The fire of love consumed her breast, The thoughts of him denied her rest.

For him alone she pined in grief, From him alone she sought relief, And called him to her secret bower, To while away the pa.s.sing hour: But Saiawush refused the call, He would not shame his father's hall.

The enamoured Sudaveh, however, was not to be disappointed without further effort, and on a subsequent day she boldly went to the king, and praising the character and attainments of his son, proposed that he should be united in marriage to one of the damsels of royal lineage under her care. For the pretended purpose therefore of making his choice, she requested he might be sent to the harem, to see all the ladies and fix on one the most suited to his taste. The king approved of the proposal, and intimated it to Saiawush; but Saiawush was modest, timid, and bashful, and mentally suspected in this overture some artifice of Sudaveh. He accordingly hesitated, but the king overcame his scruples, and the youth at length repaired to the shubistan, as the retired apartments of the women are called, with fear and trembling.

When he entered within the precincts of the sacred place, he was surprised by the richness and magnificence of everything that struck his sight. He was delighted with the company of beautiful women, and he observed Sudaveh sitting on a splendid throne in an interior chamber, like Heaven in beauty and loveliness, with a coronet on her head, and her hair floating round her in musky ringlets. Seeing him she descended gracefully, and clasping him in her arms, kissed his eyes and face with such ardor and enthusiasm that he thought proper to retire from her endearments and mix among the other damsels, who placed him on a golden chair and kept him in agreeable conversation for some time. After this pleasing interview he returned to the king, and gave him a very favorable account of his reception, and the heavenly splendor of the retirement, worthy of Jemshid, Feridun, or Husheng, which gladdened his father's heart. Kaus repeated to him his wish that he would at once choose one of the lights of the harem for his wife, as the astrologers had prophesied on his marriage the birth of a prince. But Saiawush endeavored to excuse himself from going again to Sudaveh's apartments.

The king smiled at his weakness, and a.s.sured him that Sudaveh was alone anxious for his happiness, upon which the youth found himself again in her power. She was surrounded by the damsels as before, but, whilst his eyes were cast down, they shortly disappeared, leaving him and the enamoured Sudaveh together. She soon approached him, and lovingly said:--

"O why the secret keep from one, Whose heart is fixed on thee alone!

Say who thou art, from whom descended, Some Peri with a mortal blended.

For every maid who sees that face, That cypress-form replete with grace, Becomes a victim to the wiles Which nestle in those dimpled smiles; Becomes thy own adoring slave, Whom nothing but thy love can save."

To this Saiawush made no reply. The history of the adventure of Kaus at Hamaveran, and what the king and his warriors endured in consequence of the treachery of the father of Sudaveh, flashed upon his mind. He therefore was full of apprehension, and breathed not a word in answer to her fondness. Sudaveh observing his silence and reluctance, threw away from herself the veil of modesty,

And said: "O be my own, for I am thine, And clasp me in thy arms!" And then she sprang To the astonished boy, and eagerly Kissed his deep crimsoned cheek, which filled his soul With strange confusion. "When the king is dead, O take me to thyself; see how I stand, Body and soul devoted unto thee."

In his heart he said: "This never can be: This is a demon's work--shall I be treacherous?

What! to my own dear father? Never, never; I will not thus be tempted by the devil; Yet must I not be cold to this wild woman, For fear of further folly."

Saiawush then expressed his readiness to be united in marriage to her daughter, and to no other; and when this intelligence was conveyed to Kaus by Sudaveh herself, His Majesty was extremely pleased, and munificently opened his treasury on the happy occasion. But Sudaveh still kept in view her own design, and still laboring for its success, sedulously read her own incantations to prevent disappointment, at any rate to punish the uncomplying youth if she failed. On another day she sent for him, and exclaimed:--

"I cannot now dissemble; since I saw thee I seem to be as dead--my heart all withered.

Seven years have pa.s.sed in unrequited love-- Seven long, long years. O! be not still obdurate, But with the generous impulse of affection, Oh, bless my anxious spirit, or, refusing, Thy life will be in peril; thou shalt die!"

"Never," replied the youth; "O, never, never; Oh, ask me not, for this can never be."

Saiawush then rose to depart precipitately, but Sudaveh observing him, endeavored to cling round him and arrest his flight. The endeavor, however, was fruitless; and finding at length her situation desperate, she determined to turn the adventure into her own favor, by accusing Saiawush of an atrocious outrage on her own person and virtue. She accordingly tore her dress, screamed aloud, and rushed out of her apartment to inform Kaus of the indignity she had suffered. Among her women the most clamorous lamentations arose, and echoed on every side.

The king, on hearing that Saiawush had preferred Sudaveh to her daughter, and that he had meditated so abominable an offence, thought that death alone could expiate his crime. He therefore summoned him to his presence; but satisfied that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to ascertain the truth of the case from either party concerned, he had recourse to a test which he thought would be infallible and conclusive. He first smelt the hands of Saiawush, and then his garments, which had the scent of rose-water; and then he took the garments of Sudaveh, which, on the contrary, had a strong flavor of wine and musk. Upon this discovery, the king resolved on the death of Sudaveh, being convinced of the falsehood of the accusation she had made against his son. But when his indignation subsided, he was induced on various accounts to forego that resolution. Yet he said to her, "I am sure that Saiawush is innocent, but let that remain concealed."--Sudaveh, however, persisted in a.s.serting his guilt, and continually urged him to punish the reputed offender, but without being attended to.

At length he resolved to ascertain the innocence of Saiawush by the ordeal of fire; and the fearless youth prepared to undergo the terrible trial to which he was sentenced, telling his father to be under no alarm.

"The truth (and its reward I claim), Will bear me safe through fiercest flame."

A tremendous fire was accordingly lighted on the adjacent plain, which blazed to an immense distance. The youth was attired in his golden helmet and a white robe, and mounted on a black horse. He put up a prayer to the Almighty for protection, and then rushed amidst the conflagration, as collectedly as if the act had been entirely free from peril. When Sudaveh heard the confused exclamations that were uttered at that moment, she hurried upon the terrace of the palace and witnessed the appalling sight, and in the fondness of her heart, wished even that she could share his fate, the fate of him of whom she was so deeply enamoured. The king himself fell from his throne in horror on seeing him surrounded and enveloped in the flames, from which there seemed no chance of extrication; but the gallant youth soon rose up, like the moon from the bursting element, and went through the ordeal unharmed and untouched by the fire. Kaus, on coming to his senses, rejoiced exceedingly on the happy occasion, and his severest anger was directed against Sudaveh, whom he now determined to put to death, not only for her own guilt, but for exposing his son to such imminent danger. The n.o.ble youth, however, interceded for her. Sudaveh, notwithstanding, still continued to practise her charms and incantations in secret, to the end that Saiawush might be put out of the way; and in this pursuit she was indeed indefatigable.

Suddenly intelligence was received that Afrasiyab had a.s.sembled another army, for the purpose of making an irruption into Iran; and Kaus, seeing that a Tartar could neither be bound by promise nor oath, resolved that he would on this occasion take the field himself, penetrate as far as Balkh, and seizing the country, make an example of the inhabitants. But Saiawush perceiving in this prospect of affairs an opportunity of becoming free from the machinations and witchery of Sudaveh, earnestly requested to be employed, adding that, with the advice and bravery of Rustem, he would be sure of success. The king referred the matter to Rustem, who candidly declared that there was no necessity whatever for His Majesty proceeding personally to the war; and upon this a.s.surance he threw open his treasury, and supplied all the resources of the empire to equip the troops appointed to accompany them. After one month the army marched toward Balkh, the point of attack.

On the other side Gersiwaz, the ruler of Balghar, joined the Tartar legions at Balkh, commanded by Barman, who both sallied forth to oppose the Persian host, and after a conflict of three days were defeated, and obliged to abandon the fort. When the accounts of this calamity reached Afrasiyab, he was seized with the utmost terror, which was increased by a dreadful dream. He thought he was in a forest abounding with serpents, and that the air was darkened by the appearance of countless eagles. The ground was parched up with heat, and a whirlwind hurled down his tent and overthrew his banners. On every side flowed a river of blood, and the whole of his army had been defeated and butchered in his sight. He was afterwards taken prisoner, and ignominiously conducted to Kaus, in whose company he beheld a gallant youth, not more than fourteen years of age, who, the moment he saw him, plunged a dagger in his loins, and with the scream of agony produced by the wound, he awoke. Gersiwaz had in the meantime returned with the remnant of his force; and being informed of these particulars, endeavored to console Afrasiyab, by a.s.suring him that the true interpretation of dreams was the reverse of appearances. But Afrasiyab was not to be consoled in this manner. He referred to his astrologers, who, however, hesitated, and were unwilling to afford an explanation of the mysterious vision. At length one of them, upon the solicited promise that the king would not punish him for divulging the truth, described the nature of the warning implied in what had been witnessed.

"And now I throw aside the veil, Which hides the darkly shadowed tale.