Persian myths, p.16
Persian Myths, page 16
The Expedition of Gúdarz
The overthrow of the sovereign of Túrán had only a temporary effect, as it was not long before he was enabled to collect further supplies, and another army for the defence of his kingdom; and Kai-khosráu’s ambition to reduce the power of his rival being animated by new hopes of success, another expedition was entrusted to the command of Gúdarz. Rustem, he said, had done his duty in repeated campaigns against Afrásiyáb, and the extraordinary gallantry and wisdom with which they were conducted, entitled him to the highest applause. “It is now, Gúdarz, thy turn to vanquish the enemy.” Accordingly Gúdarz, accompanied by Gíw, and Tús, and Byzun, and an immense army, proceeded towards Túrán. Ferámurz was directed previously to invade and conquer Hindústán, and from thence to march to the borders of Chín and Má-chín, for the purpose of uniting and co-operating with the army under Gúdarz, and, finally, to capture Afrásiyáb.
As soon as it was known in Túrán that Gúdarz was in motion to resume hostilities against the king, Húmán was appointed with a large force to resist his progress, and a second army of reserve was gathered together under the command of Pírán. The first conflict which occurred was between the troops of Gúdarz and Húmán. Gúdarz directed Byzun to attack Húmán. The two chiefs joined in battle, when Húmán fell under the sword of his adversary, and his army, being defeated, retired, and united in the rear with the legions of Pírán. The enemy thus became of formidable strength, and in consequence it was thought proper to communicate the inequality to Kai-khosráu, that reinforcements might be sent without loss of time. The king immediately complied, and also wrote to Sístán to request the aid of Rustem. The war lasted two years, the army on each side being continually recruited as necessity required, so that the numbers were regularly kept up, till a great battle took place, in which the venerable Pírán was killed, and nearly the whole of his army destroyed. This victory was obtained without the assistance of Rustem, who, notwithstanding the message of the king, had still remained in Sístán. The loss of Pírán, the counsellor and warrior, proved to be a great affliction to Afrásiyáb: he felt as if his whole support was taken away, and deemed it the signal of approaching ruin to his cause.
“Thou wert my refuge, thou my friend and brother;
Wise in thy counsel, gallant in the field,
My monitor and guide – and thou art gone!
The glory of my kingdom is eclipsed,
Since thou hast vanished from this world, and left me
All wretched to myself. But food, nor sleep
Nor rest will I indulge in, till just vengeance
Has been inflicted on the cruel foe.”
When the news of Pírán’s death reached Kai-khosráu, he rapidly marched forward, crossed the Jihún without delay, and passed through Samerkánd and Bokhára, to encounter the Túránians. Afrásiyáb, in the meantime, had not been neglectful. He had all his hidden treasure dug up, with which he assembled a prodigious army, and appointed his son Shydah-Poshang to the command of a hundred thousand horsemen. To oppose this force, Khosráu appointed his young relative, Lohurásp, with eight thousand horsemen, and passing through Sístán, desired Rustem, on account of Lohurásp’s tender age and inexperience, to afford him such good counsel as he required. When Afrásiyáb heard this, he added to the force of Shydah another hundred thousand men, but first sent his son to Kai-khosráu in the character of an ambassador to offer terms of peace. “Tell him,” said he, “that to secure this object, I will deliver to him one of my sons as a hostage, and a number of troops for his service, with the sacred promise never to depart from my engagements again. – But, a word in thy ear, Shydah; if Khosráu is not disposed to accept these terms, say, to prevent unnecessary bloodshed, he and I must personally decide the day by single combat. If he refuses to fight with me, say that thou wilt meet him; and shouldst thou be slain in the strife, I will surrender to him the kingdom of Túrán, and retire myself from the world.” He further commanded him to propound these terms with a gallant and fearless bearing, and not to betray the least apprehension. Shydah entered fully into the spirit of his father’s instructions, and declared that he would devote his life to the cause, that he would boldly before the whole assembly dare Kai-khosráu to battle; so that Afrásiyáb was delighted with the valorous disposition he displayed.
Kai-khosráu smiled when he heard of what Afrásiyáb intended, and viewed the proposal as a proof of his weakness. “But never,” said he, “will I consent to a peace till I have inflicted on him the death which Saiáwush was made to suffer.” When Shydah arrived, and with proper ceremony and respect had delivered his message, Kai-khosráu invited him to retire to his chamber and go to rest, and he would send an answer by one of his people. Shydah accordingly retired, and the king proceeded to consult his warrior-friends on the offers that had been made. “Afrásiyáb tells me,” said he, “that if I do not wish for peace, I must fight either him or his son. I have seen Shydah – his eyes are red and blood-shot, and he has a fierce expression of feature; if I do not accept his terms, I shall probably soon have a dagger lodged in my breast.” Saying this, he ordered his mail to be got ready; but Rustem and all the great men about him exclaimed, unanimously: “This must not be allowed; Afrásiyáb is full of fraud, artifice, and sorcery, and notoriously faithless to his engagements. The sending of Shydah is all a trick, and his letter of proposal all deceit: his object is simply to induce thee to fight him alone.
“If them shouldst kill this Shydah – what of that!
There would be one Túránian warrior less,
To vex the world withal; would that be triumph?
And to a Persian king? But if it chanced,
That thou shouldst meet with an untimely death,
By dart or javelin, at the stripling’s hands,
What scathe and ruin would this realm befall!”
By the advice of Rustem, Kai-khosráu gave Shydah permission to depart, and said that he would send his answer to Afrásiyáb by Kárun. “But,” observed the youth, “I have come to fight thee!” which touched the honor of the king, and he replied: “Be it so, let us then meet to-morrow.”
In the meantime Khosráu prepared his letter to Afrásiyáb, in which he said:
“Our quarrel now is dark to view,
It bears the fiercest, gloomiest hue;
And vain have speech and promise been
To change for peace the battle scene;
For thou art still to treachery prone,
Though gentle now in word and tone;
But that imperial crown thou wearest,
That mace which thou in battle bearest,
Thy kingdom, all, thou must resign;
Thy army too – for all are mine!
Thou talk’st of strength, and might, and power,
When revelling in a prosperous hour;
But know, that strength of nerve and limb
We owe to God – it comes from Him!
And victory’s palm, and regal sway,
Alike the will of Heaven obey.
Hence thy lost throne, no longer thine,
Will soon, perfidious king! be mine!”
In giving this letter to Kárun, Kai-khosráu directed him, in the first place, to deliver a message from him to Shydah, to the following effect:
“Driven art thou out from home and life,
Doomed to engage in mortal strife,
For deeply lours misfortune’s cloud;
That gay attire will be thy shroud;
Blood from thy father’s eyes will gush,
As Káús wept for Saiáwush.”
In the morning Khosráu went to the appointed place, and when he approached Shydah, the latter said, “Thou hast come on foot, let our trial be in wrestling;” and the proposal being agreed to, both applied themselves fiercely to the encounter, at a distance from the troops.
The youth appeared with joyous mien,
And bounding heart, for life was new;
By either host the strife was seen,
And strong and fierce the combat grew.
Shydah exerted his utmost might, but was unable to move his antagonist from the ground; whilst Khosráu lifted him up without difficulty, and, dashing him on the plain,
He sprang upon him as the lion fierce
Springs on the nimble gor, then quickly drew
His deadly dagger, and with cruel aim,
Thrust the keen weapon through the stripling’s heart.
Khosráu, immediately after slaying him, ordered the body to be washed with musk and rose-water, and, after burial, a tomb to be raised to his memory.
When Kárun reached the court of Afrásiyáb with the answer to the offer of peace, intelligence had previously arrived that Shydah had fallen in the combat, which produced in the mind of the father the greatest anguish. He gave no reply to Kárun, but ordered the drums and trumpets to be sounded, and instantly marched with a large army against the enemy. The two hosts were soon engaged, the anger of the Túránians being so much roused and sharpened by the death of the prince, that they were utterly regardless of their lives. The battle, therefore, was fought with unusual fury.
Two sovereigns in the field, in desperate strife,
Each by a grievous cause of wrath, urged on
To glut revenge; this, for a father’s life
Wantonly sacrificed; that for a son
Slain in his prime. – The carnage has begun,
And blood is seen to flow on every side;
Thousands are slaughtered ere the day is done,
And weltering swell the sanguinary tide;
And why? To soothe man’s hate, his cruelty, and pride.
The battle terminated in the discomfiture and defeat of the Túránians, who fled from the conquerors in the utmost confusion. The people seized hold of the bridle of Afrásiyáb’s horse, and obliged him to follow his scattered army.
Kai-khosráu having despatched an account of his victory to Káús, went in pursuit of Afrásiyáb, traversing various countries and provinces, till he arrived on the borders of Chín. The Khakán, or sovereign of that state, became in consequence greatly alarmed, and presented to him large presents to gain his favor, but the only object of Khosráu was to secure Afrásiyáb, and he told the ambassador that if his master dared to afford him protection, he would lay waste the whole kingdom. The Khakán therefore withdrew his hospitable services, and the abandoned king was compelled to seek another place of refuge.
The Death of Afrásiyáb
Melancholy and afflicted, Afrásiyáb penetrated through wood and desert, and entered the province of Mikrán, whither he was followed by Kai-khosráu and his army. He then quitted Mikrán, but his followers had fallen off to a small number and to whatever country or region he repaired for rest and protection, none was given, lest the vengeance of Kai-khosráu should be hurled upon the offender. Still pursued and hunted like a wild beast, and still flying from his enemies, the small retinue which remained with him at last left him, and he was left alone, dejected, destitute, and truly forlorn. In this state of desertion he retired into a cave, where he hoped to continue undiscovered and unseen.
It chanced, however, that a man named Húm, of the race of Feridún, dwelt hard by. He was remarkable for his strength and bravery, but had peacefully taken up his abode upon the neighboring mountain, and was passing a religious life without any communication with the busy world. His dwelling was a little way above the cave of Afrásiyáb. One night he heard a voice of lamentation below, and anxious to ascertain from whom and whence it proceeded, he stole down to the spot and listened. The mourner spoke in the Turkish language, and said: – “O king of Túrán and Chín, where is now thy pomp and power! How has Fortune cast away thy throne and thy treasure to the winds?” Hearing these words Húm conjectured that this must be Afrásiyáb; and as he had suffered severely from the tyranny of that monarch, his feelings of vengeance were awakened, and he approached nearer to be certain that it was he. The same lamentations were repeated, and he felt assured that it was Afrásiyáb himself. He waited patiently, however, till morning dawned, and then he called out at the mouth of the cave: – “O, king of the world! come out of thy cave, and obtain thy desires! I have left the invisible sphere to accomplish thy wishes. Appear!” Afrásiyáb thinking this a spiritual call, went out of the cave and was instantly recognized by Húm, who at the same moment struck him a severe blow on the forehead, which felled him to the earth, and then secured his hands behind his back. When the monarch found himself in fetters and powerless, he complained of the cruelty inflicted upon him, and asked Húm why he had treated a stranger in that manner. Húm replied: “How many a prince of the race of Feridún hast thou sacrificed to thy ambition? How many a heart hast thou broken? I, too, am one who was compelled to fly from thy persecutions, and take refuge here on this desert mountain, and constantly have I prayed for thy ruin that I might be released from this miserable mode of existence, and be permitted to return to my paternal home. My prayer has been heard at last, and God has delivered thee into my hands. But how earnest thou hither, and by what strange vicissitudes art thou thus placed before me?” Afrásiyáb communicated to him the story of his misfortunes, and begged of him rather to put him to death on the spot than convey him to Kai-khosráu. But Húm was too much delighted with having the tyrant under his feet to consider either his safety or his feelings, and was not long in bringing him to the Persian king. Kai-khosráu received the prisoner with exultation, and made Húm a magnificent present. He well recollected the basin and the dagger used in the murder of Saiáwush, and commanded the presence of the treacherous Gersíwaz, that he and Afrásiyáb might suffer, in every respect, the same fate together. The basin was brought, and the two victims were put to death, like two goats, their heads being chopped off from their bodies.
After this sanguinary catastrophe, Kai-khosráu returned to Irán, leaving Rustem to proceed to his own principality. Kai-káús quitted his palace, according to his established custom, to welcome back the conqueror. He kissed his head and face, and showered upon him praises and blessings for the valor he had displayed, and the deeds he had done, and especially for having so signally revenged the cruel murder of his father Saiáwush.
The Death of Kai-khosráu
Kai-khosráu at last became inspired by an insurmountable attachment to a religious life, and thought only of devotion to God. Thus influenced by a disposition peculiar to ascetics, he abandoned the duties of sovereignty, and committed all state affairs to the care of his ministers. The chiefs and warriors remonstrated respectfully against this mode of government, and trusted that he would devote only a few hours in the day to the transactions of the kingdom, and the remainder to prayer and religious exercises; but this he refused, saying: – “One heart is not equal to both duties; my affections indeed are not for this transitory world, and I trust to be an inhabitant of the world to come.” The nobles were in great sorrow at this declaration, and anxiously applied to Zál and Rustem, in the hopes of working some change in the king’s disposition. On their arrival the people cried to them:
“Some evil eye has smote the king; – Iblís
By wicked wiles has led his soul astray,
And withered all life’s pleasures. O release
Our country from the sorrow, the dismay
Which darkens every heart: – his ruin stay.
Is it not mournful thus to see him cold
And gloomy, casting pomp and joy away?
Restore him to himself; let us behold
Again the victor-king, the generous, just and bold.”
Zál and Rustem went to the palace of the king in a melancholy mood, and Khosráu having heard of their approach, enquired of them why they had left Sístán. They replied that the news of his having relinquished all concern in the affairs of the kingdom had induced them to wait upon him. “I am weary of the troubles of this life,” said he composedly, “and anxious to prepare for a future state.” “But death,” observed Zál, “is a great evil. It is dreadful to die!” Upon this the king said: “I cannot endure any longer the deceptions and the perfidy of mankind. My love of heaven is so great that I cannot exist one moment without devotion and prayer. Last night a mysterious voice whispered in my ear: The time of thy departure is nigh, prepare the load for thy journey, and neglect not thy warning angel, or the opportunity will be lost.” When Zál and Rustem saw that Khosráu was resolved, and solemnly occupied in his devotions, they were for some time silent. But Zál was at length moved, and said: “I will go into retirement and solitude with the king, and by continual prayer, and through his blessing, I too may be forgiven.” “This, indeed,” said the king, “is not the place for me. I must seek out a solitary cell, and there resign my soul to heaven.” Zál and Rustem wept, and quitted the palace, and all the warriors were in the deepest affliction.
The next day Kai-khosráu left his apartment, and called together his great men and warriors, and said to them:
“That which I sought for, I have now obtained.
Nothing remains of worldly wish, or hope,
To disappoint or vex me. I resign
The pageantry of kings, and turn away
From all the pomp of the Kaiánian throne,
Sated with human grandeur. – Now, farewell!
Such is my destiny. To those brave friends,
Who, ever faithful, have my power upheld,
I will discharge the duty of a king,
Paying the pleasing debt of gratitude.”
He then ordered his tents to be pitched in the desert, and opened his treasury, and for seven days made a sumptuous feast, and distributed food and money among the indigent, the widows, and orphans, and every destitute person was abundantly supplied with the necessaries of life, so that there was no one left in a state of want throughout the empire. He also attended to the claims of his warriors. To Rustem he gave Zábul, and Kábul, and Ním-rúz. He appointed Lohurásp, the son-in-law of Kai-káús, successor to his throne, and directed all his people to pay the same allegiance to him as they had done to himself; and they unanimously consented, declaring their firm attachment to his person and government. He appointed Gúdarz the chief minister, and Gíw to the chief command of the armies. To Tús he gave Khorassán; and he said to Fríburz, the son of Káús: – “Be thou obedient, I beseech thee, to the commands of Lohurásp, whom I have instructed, and brought up with paternal care; for I know of no one so well qualified in the art of governing a kingdom.” The warriors of Irán were surprised, and murmured together, that the son of Kai-káús should be thus placed under the authority of Lohurásp. But Zál observed to them: – “If it be the king’s will, it is enough!” The murmurs of the warriors having reached Kai-khosráu, he sent for them, and addressed them thus: – “Fríburz is well known to be unequal to the functions of sovereignty; but Lohurásp is enlightened, and fully comprehends all the duties of regal sway. He is a descendant of Húsheng, wise and merciful, and God is my witness, I think him perfectly calculated to make a nation happy.” Hearing this eulogium on the character of the new king from Kai-khosráu, all the warriors expressed their satisfaction, and anticipated a glorious reign. Khosráu further said: – “I must now address you on another subject. In my dreams a fountain has been pointed out to me; and when I visit that fountain, my life will be resigned to its Creator.” He then bid farewell to all the people around him, and commenced his journey; and when he had accomplished one stage he pitched his tent. Next day he resumed his task, and took leave of Zál and Rustem; who wept bitterly as they parted from him.
