How Káús wrote to Rustam and summoned him from Zábulistán

The Sháh then bade indite to famous RustamA letter, and began by praising him:—"Be thy heart prudent and thy spirit bright.Know that a Turkman chieftain with his hostHath come and is beleaguering White Castle.He is a brave, heroic paladin,In form an elephant, in heart a lion.None in Írán can fight him; thou alone,That art so good at need, canst dim his lustre,Thou heart and back-bone of the Íránian chiefs,Who hast the claws and might of lions! ThouDidst take the country of Mázandarán,And in Hámávarán undo our bonds.Sol weepeth at thy mace, and at thy swordMars grilleth. Indigo is not so darkAs dust-clouds raised by Rakhsh; no elephantCan match thee in the fight; thou lassoest lions;Thy spear-point scatheth mountains. In all illsThou art the shelter of Írán. The warriorsThrough thee exalt their helms. A grievous matterConfronteth us; I ache to think thereof.The warriors in counsel read a letterFrom Gazhdaham and were agreed that GívShould bear thee this account of good and ill.Now when thou readest this by day or nightOpe not thy lips for words, and if thou haveA posy in thy hand stay not to smell it,But act with promptitude and show thy face,Because unless thou march forth from ZábulWith wary horsemen and shalt raise the war-cry,To judge by that which Gazhdaham hath toldNone will confront this warrior."

This sealedThe Sháh gave swift as wind to gallant Gív,And said: "Be instant, ply thy fleet steed's rein.Whenas thou reachest Rustam neither tarry,Nor sleep, within Zábul; if thou arriveBy night return next day. Thus say to him:—'A war is imminent, and in thine absenceWe cannot hold the foe of small account.'"

Gív took it and sped night and day like wind,No rest, no sleep, no water, and no food,Until Zál heard the cry: "A cavalierApproacheth from Írán as swift as dust."

The matchless Rustam met him with the troopsAnd nobles wearing helmets. When they met,Gív and the warriors great and small dismounted,And Rustam too who asked news of the Sháh,And of Írán. They went thence to his palaceTo rest awhile. Gív told his errand, gaveThe letter, spake much of Suhráb, deliveredHis other tidings and the presents sent.When Rustam heard and read he laughed amazed,And said: "A horseman hath appeared like Sám!Now from our people this would not be strange,But from the Turkmans 'tis incredible.None sayeth, and I know not, whence he is.The daughter of the king of SamangánBare me a son but he is still a child.The noble boy at present wotteth notOf warfare, of attack, and self-defence.I sent his mother gold and precious stonesIn plenty, and the messenger brought answer:—'The darling is not growing very fast,But quaffeth wine with lips that savour milk.'No doubt he will be eager soon for war,And then his onslaught will be lion-like;He will lay low the head of many a horseman;But as for what thou sayest, O paladin!'He came to fight us, vanquished brave Hajír,And bound him with the lasso head and foot!'The Lion's whelp, though grown both brave and doughty,Could not do that. Come, go we to Zál's palace,Rejoicing, then consider plans and whoThis lucky Turkman paladin may be."

They sought the ancestral hall and stayed awhileIn unconcern, then Gív again appliedTo Rustam, praising him and saying: "Hero,And chief of paladins! may crown and throneBe bright to thee who art the crown's adornment,Thou favourite of fortune! Sháh KáúsSaid thus: 'Sleep not within Zábulistán.If thou arrive by night return next day,For God forbid that war should press on us.'Now, O exalted and most glorious chief!Let us depart in all haste to Írán."

But Rustam answered: "There is naught to fear,For everything will end in dust at last.Abide we here to-day in merrimentNaught recking of Káús and of the chiefs.One day will we remain to breathe ourselvesAnd put some liquor to our thirsty lips;Thereafter we will hasten to the SháhAnd show the heroes of Írán the wayIn case bright fortune be not yet awake.At all events the matter is a trifle,The rising sea will quench the fiercest flame.E'en from afar my flag will fray his heartAmid a feast. How can he be like Rustam—The master of the scimitar and mace—Or Sám the hardy, brave, and circumspect?He will not prove so eager for the fray.We need not take such matters seriously."

They took the wine in hand and grew bemusedWith drinking to the monarch and to Zál.Next morning Rustam though crop-sick made readyTo start, but tarrying through drunkennessGave orders to the cooks to spread a feast.The banquet done they held a drinking-boutAnd called for wine and harp and minstrelsy.Next day he held another sunny-brightAnd on the third day brought out wine at dawn,Forgetful of Káús. Upon the fourthGív, ready to depart, said thus to Rustam:—"Káús is rash and hasty; to his mindThis is no trifle. He was vexed and anxious,And would not eat or slumber or repose.By thus delaying in ZábulistánWe place him in a strait; he will be wrothAnd in his headstrong humour seek revenge."

But Rustam answered: "Give it not a thought,For none will chafe at us."

He gave commandTo saddle Rakhsh and blow the brazen trumpets.The horsemen of Zábul came at the callIn mail—a mighty army. He thereinInstalled Zawára as chief paladin.