How Suhráb attacked the Army of Káús

Suhráb the chief of warriors, when he heardThese harsh words, turned his back upon Hajír,And hid his face without reply, astoundedAt that dark utterance; then from saddlebackHe fiercely struck Hajír a blow back-handed,Felled him, and went his way, mused much and long,And made his preparations for the fight.He girt him with the girdle of revenge,Took from his princely head the golden crown,Put on his mail and breastplate joyfully,And set a Rúman helmet on his head.That paladin, that binder of the Dív,Took spear, bow, lasso, and his massive mace,The blood was boiling in his veins with ardour.He mounted on his rapid steed, sent upThe battle-cry, and spear in hand rushed outLike some mad elephant upon the field.He came forth bent on fight, he made the dust-cloudsFly to the moon, then charged the Sháh's enclosureAnd made it totter with his spear, while allThe valiant chieftains fled like onagersBefore a lion's claws; not one had courageTo face such foot and stirrup, hand and rein,Such arm and flashing spear. They met and said:"Here is an elephantine hero for you—One that we cannot look on unappalled!Who is there bold enough to challenge him?"

Anon Suhráb the warrior raised his voice,Assailing Sháh Káús with scornful words,And thus he said: "O monarch of the Free!What business hast thou on the battlefield?Why dost thou bear the name of Kai KáúsWho canst not stand where Lions fight together?I wield my spear and all thy troops are cowed.Upon the night that Zhanda Razm was slainI swore a mighty oath while at the feast:—'I will not leave a spearman of Írán,And I will hang Káús upon the gibbetAlive.' What mighty man hast thou to meet me?"

He spake and waited long in silence. NoneMade answer from Írán. Then bending downHe forced out seventy tent-pegs with his spear,The tent-enclosure tumbled to the ground,And everywhere the blast of clarions sounded.Sháh Kai Káús exclaimed in his dismay:—"O men of noble name and glorious race!Let some one take the news to Rustam, saying:—'Our warriors' wits are ousted by this Turkman.I have no cavalier to fight with him;None of Írán is bold enough to go.'"

Tús bore the message and told Rustam all,Who thus made answer: "Every other Sháh,That called me suddenly, called me at timesTo feast, at times to fight, but with KáúsI ne'er see aught excepting fight and travail!"

Then gazing from his tent he found that Gív,Who had but just arrived, was saddling Rakhsh,And that Gurgín was crying: "Quick! Make haste!"Ruhhám was fastening the girth and mace,And Tús had got in hand the horse's mail.Each one was crying to another: "Quick!"The matchless hero heard it from his tentAnd thought: "This must be Áhriman's own fight!So great a hubbub is not made for one."

He put on his cuirass of tiger-skin,Then girt a royal girdle round his loins,And mounting Rakhsh set forth. He left ZawáraIn charge of throne and troops, enjoining him:—"Advance not and take no commands save mine."

They bore his standard with him as he wentIntent on fight and angry. When he sawThe limbs and shoulders of Suhráb, his breastAs broad as that of valiant Sám, he said:—"Go we aside to some fit spot for battle."

Suhráb began to rub his hands, he turnedBack from the Íránian lines, and said to Rustam:—"Come then; we mighty men require no help;The fight between us will suffice, and yetThe field of battle is no place for thee;Thou canst not bear one buffet from my fist.Great stature hast thou, mighty limbs and neck,But they are weak with age."

Then Rustam, gazingUpon that haughty one with such long stirrups,And such a hand and shoulder, answered mildly:—"Fair youth! the earth is hard and cold, the airIs soft and warm. Old am I, but have seenFull many a stricken field, and many a dívHath perished by my hand, yet saw I neverMyself o'ercome. Wait till we fight together;If thou survivest fear no crocodile.Both seas and mountains have beheld how IHave striven with the famed chiefs of TúránIn fight: the stars bear witness to my deeds.My might hath laid the world beneath my feet,And now my heart doth yearn in ruth for thee;I would not take thy life. Thou wilt not leaveBehind a Turkman with such neck and shoulders.I know no peer to thee e'en in Írán."

When Rustam spake Suhráb's heart throbbed. He answered:—"One question will I put. Vouchsafe to tell meThe truth. Inform me of thy parentage,And make me happy by thy fair reply.I think that thou art Rustam, that thou artSprung from the noble race of Narímán."

The other answered him: "I am not Rustam,Not sprung from Sám the son of Narímán,For Rustam is a paladin, while IAm mean, not having throne and state and crown."

Suhráb despaired, he had had hope before,The face of day was bright to him no more.