LOHURÁSP

The reputation of Lohurásp was of the highest order, and it is said that

his administration of the affairs of his kingdom was more just and

paternal than even that of Kai-khosráu. "The counsel which Khosráu gave

me," said he, "was wise and admirable; but I find that I must go beyond

him in moderation and clemency to the poor." Lohurásp had four sons, two

by the daughter of Kai-káús, one named Ardshír, and the other Shydasp;

and two by another woman, and they were named Gushtásp and Zarír. But

Gushtásp was intrepid, acute, and apparently marked out for sovereignty,

and on account of his independent conduct, no favorite with his father;

in defiance of whom, with a rebellious spirit, he collected together a

hundred thousand horsemen, and proceeded with them towards Hindústán of

his own accord. Lohurásp sent after him his brother Zarír, with a

thousand horsemen, in the hopes of influencing him to return; but when

Zarír overtook him and endeavored to persuade him not to proceed any

further, he said to him, with an animated look:--

"Proceed no farther!--Well thou know'st

We've no Kaiánian blood to boast,

And, therefore, but a minor part

In Lohurásp's paternal heart.

Nor thou, nor I, can ever own

From him the diadem or throne.

The brothers of Káús's race

By birth command the brightest place,

Then what remains for us? We must

To other means our fortunes trust.

We cannot linger here, and bear

A life of discontent--despair."

Zarír, however, reasoned with him so winningly and effectually, that at

last he consented to return; but only upon the condition that he should

be nominated heir to the throne, and treated with becoming respect and

ceremony. Zarír agreed to interpose his efforts to this end, and brought

him back to his father; but it was soon apparent that Lohurásp had no

inclination to promote the elevation of Gushtásp in preference to the

claims of his other sons; and indeed shortly afterwards manifested to

what quarter his determination on this subject was directed. It was

indeed enough that his determination was unfavorable to the views of

Gushtásp, who now, in disgust, fled from his father's house, but without

any attendants, and shaped his course towards Rúm. Lohurásp again sent

Zarír in quest of him; but the youth, after a tedious search, returned

without success. Upon his arrival in Rúm, Gushtásp chose a solitary

retirement, where he remained some time, and was at length compelled by

poverty and want, to ask for employment in the establishment of the

sovereign of that country, stating that he was an accomplished scribe,

and wrote a beautiful hand. He was told to wait a few days, as at that

time there was no vacancy. But hunger was pressing, and he could not

suffer delay; he therefore went to the master of the camel-drivers and

asked for service, but he too had no vacancy. However, commiserating the

distressed condition of the applicant, he generously supplied him with a

hearty meal. After that, Gushtásp went into a blacksmith's shop, and

asked for work, and his services were accepted. The blacksmith put the

hammer into his hands, and the first blow he struck was given with such

force, that he broke the anvil to pieces. The blacksmith was amazed and

angry, and indignantly turned him out of his shop, uttering upon him a

thousand violent reproaches.

Wounded in spirit, broken-hearted,

Misfortune darkening o'er his head,

To other lands he then departed,

To seek another home for bread.

Disconsolate and wretched, he proceeded on his journey, and observing a

husbandman standing in a field of corn, he approached the spot and sat

down. The husbandman seeing a strong muscular youth, apparently a

Túránian, sitting in sorrow and tears, went up to him and asked him the

cause of his grief, and he soon became acquainted with all the

circumstances of the stranger's life. Pitying his distress, he took him

home and gave him some food.

After having partaken sufficiently of the refreshments placed before

him, Gushtásp inquired of his host to what tribe he belonged, and from

whom he was descended. "I am descended from Feridún," rejoined he, "and

I belong to the Kaiánian tribe. My occupation in this retired spot is,

as thou seest, the cultivation of the ground, and the customs and duties

of husbandry." Gushtásp said, "I am myself descended from Húsheng, who

was the ancestor of Feridún; we are, therefore, of the same origin." In

consequence of this connection, Gushtásp and the husbandman lived

together on the most friendly footing for a considerable time. At length

the star of his fortune began to illumine his path, and the favor of

Heaven became manifest.

It was the custom of the king of Rúm, when his daughters came of age, to

give a splendid banquet, and to invite to it all the youths of

illustrious birth in the kingdom, in order that each might select one of

them most suited to her taste, for her future husband. His daughter

Kitabún was now of age, and in conformity with the established practice,

the feast was prepared, and the youths of royal descent invited; but it

so happened that not one of them was sufficiently attractive for her

choice, and the day passed over unprofitably. She had been told in a

dream that a youth of a certain figure and aspect had arrived in the

kingdom from Irán, and that to him she was destined to be married. But

there was not one at her father's banquet who answered to the

description of the man she had seen in her dream, and in consequence she

was disappointed. On the following day the feast was resumed. She had

again dreamt of the youth to whom she was to be united. She had

presented to him a bunch of roses, and he had given her a rose-branch,

and each regarded the other with smiles of mutual satisfaction. In the

morning Kitabún issued a proclamation, inviting all the young men of

royal extraction, whether natives of the kingdom or strangers, to her

father's feast. On that day Gushtásp and the husbandman had come into

the city from the country, and hearing the proclamation the latter said:

"Let us go, for in this lottery the prize may be drawn in thy name."

They accordingly went. Kitabún's handmaid was in waiting at the door,

and kept every young man standing awhile, that her mistress might mark

him well before she allowed him to pass into the banquet. The keen eyes

of Kitabún soon saw Gushtásp, and her heart instantly acknowledged him

as her promised lord, for he was the same person she had seen in her

dream.

As near the graceful stripling drew,

She cried:--"My dream, my dream is true!

Fortune from visions of the night

Has brought him to my longing sight.

Truth has portrayed his form divine;

He lives--he lives--and he is mine!"

She presently descended from her balcony, and gave him a bunch of roses,

the token by which her choice was made known, and then retired. The

king, when he heard of what she had done, was exceedingly irritated,

thinking that her affections were placed on a beggar, or some nameless

stranger of no birth or fortune, and his first impulse was to have her

put to death. But his people assembled around him, and said:--"What can

be the use of killing her?--It is in vain to resist the flood of

destiny, for what will be, will be.

"The world itself is governed still by Fate,

Fate rules the warrior's and the monarch's state;

And woman's heart, the passions of her soul,

Own the same power, obey the same control;

For what can love's impetuous force restrain?

Blood may be shed, but what will be thy gain?"

After this remonstrance he desired enquiries to be made into the

character and parentage of his proposed son-in-law, and was told his

name, the name of his father, and of his ancestors, and the causes which

led to his present condition. But he would not believe a word of the

narration. He was then informed of his daughter's dream, and other

particulars: and he so far relented as to sanction the marriage; but

indignantly drove her from his house, with her husband, without a dowry,

or any money to supply themselves with food.

Gushtásp and his wife took refuge in a miserable cell, which they

inhabited, and when necessity pressed, he used to cross the river, and

bring in an elk or wild ass from the forest, give half of it to the

ferryman for his trouble, and keep the remainder for his own board, so

that he and the ferryman became great friends by these mutual

obligations. It is related that a person of distinction, named Mabrín,

solicited the king's second daughter in marriage; and Ahrun, another man

of rank, was anxious to be espoused to the third, or youngest; but the

king was unwilling to part with either of them, and openly declared his

sentiments to that effect. Mabrín, however, was most assiduous and

persevering in his attentions, and at last made some impression on the

father, who consented to permit the marriage of the second daughter, but

only on the following conditions: "There is," said he, "a monstrous wolf

in the neighboring forest, extremely ferocious, and destructive to my

property. I have frequently endeavored to hunt him down, but without

success. If Mabrín can destroy the animal, I will give him my daughter."

When these conditions were communicated to Mabrín, he considered it

impossible that they could be fulfilled, and looked upon the proposal as

an evasion of the question. One day, however, the ferryman having heard

of Mabrín's disappointment, told him that there was no reason to

despair, for he knew a young man, married to one of the king's

daughters, who crossed the river every day, and though only a

pedestrian, brought home regularly an elk-deer on his back. "He is

truly," added he, "a wonderful youth, and if you can by any means secure

his assistance, I have no doubt but that his activity and strength will

soon put an end to the wolfs depredations, by depriving him of life."

This intelligence was received with great pleasure by Mabrín, who

hastened to Gushtásp, and described to him his situation, and the

conditions required. Gushtásp in reply said, that he would be glad to

accomplish for him the object of his desires, and at an appointed time

proceeded towards the forest, accompanied by Mabrín and the ferryman.

When the party arrived at the borders of the wilderness which the wolf

frequented, Gushtásp left his companions behind, and advanced alone into

the interior, where he soon found the dreadful monster, in size larger

than an elephant, and howling terribly, ready to spring upon him. But

the hand and eye of Gushtásp were too active to allow of his being

surprised, and in an instant he shot two arrows at once into the foaming

beast, which, irritated by the deep wound, now rushed furiously upon

him, without, however, doing him any serious injury; then with the

rapidity of lightning, Gushtásp drew his sharp sword, and with one

tremendous stroke cut the wolf in two, deluging the ground with bubbling

blood. Having performed this prodigious exploit, he called Mabrín and

the ferryman to see what he had done, and they were amazed at his

extraordinary intrepidity and muscular power, but requested, in order

that the special object of the lover might be obtained, that he would

conceal his name, for a time at least. Mabrín, satisfied on this point,

then repaired to the emperor, and claimed his promised bride, as the

reward for his labor. The king of Rúm little expected this result, and

to assure himself of the truth of what he had heard, bent his way to the

forest, where he was convinced, seeing with astonishment and delight

that the wolf was really killed. He had now no further pretext, and

therefore fulfilled his engagement, by giving his daughter to Mabrín.

It was now Ahrun's turn to repeat his solicitations for the youngest

daughter. The king of Rúm had another evil to root out, so that he was

prepared to propose another condition. This was to destroy a hideous

dragon that had taken possession of a neighboring mountain. Ahrun, on

hearing the condition was in as deep distress as Mabrín had been, until

he accidentally became acquainted with the ferryman, who described to

him the generosity and fearless bravery of Gushtásp. He immediately

applied to him, and the youth readily undertook the enterprise,

saying:--"No doubt the monster's teeth are long and sharp, bring me

therefore a dagger, and fasten round it a number of knives." Ahrun did

so accordingly, and Gushtásp proceeded to the mountain. As soon as the

dragon smelt the approach of a human being, flames issued from his

nostrils, and he darted forward to devour the intruder, but was driven

back by a number of arrows, rapidly discharged into his head and mouth.

Again he advanced, but Gushtásp dodged round him, and continued driving

arrows into him to the extent of forty, which subdued his strength, and

made him writhe in agony. He then fixed the dagger, which was armed at

right angles with knives, upon his spear, and going nearer, thrust it

down his gasping throat.

Dreadful the weapon each two-edged blade

Cut deep into the jaws on either side,

And the fierce monster, thinking to dislodge it,

Crushed it between his teeth with all his strength,

Which pressed it deeper in the flesh, when blood

And poison issued from the gaping wounds;

Then, as he floundered on the earth exhausted,

Seizing the fragment of a flinty rock,

Gushtásp beat out the brains, and soon the beast

In terrible struggles died. Two deadly fangs

Then wrenched he from the jaws, to testify

The wonderful exploit he had performed.

When he descended from the mountain, these two teeth were delivered to

Ahrun, and they were afterwards conveyed to the king, who could not

believe his own eyes, but ascended the mountain himself to ascertain the

fact, and there he beheld with amazement the dragon lifeless, and

covered with blood. "And didst thou thyself kill this terrific dragon?"

said he. "Yes," replied Ahrun. "And wilt thou swear to God that this is

thy own achievement? It must be either the exploit of a demon, or of a

certain Kaiánian, who resides in this neighborhood." But there was no

one to disprove his assertion, and therefore the king could no longer

refuse to surrender to him his youngest daughter.

And now between Gushtásp, and Mabrín, and Ahrun, the warmest friendship

subsisted. Indeed they were seldom parted; and the three sisters

remained together with equal affection. One day Kitabún, the wife of

Gushtásp, in conversation with some of her female acquaintance, let out

the secret that her husband was the person who killed the wolf and the

dragon.

No sooner was this story told, than it spread, and in the end reached

the ears of the queen, who immediately communicated it to the king,

saying:--"This is the work of Gushtásp, thy son-in-law, of him thou hast

banished from thy presence--of him who nobly would not disclose his

name, before Mabrín and Ahrun had attained the object of their wishes."

The king said in reply that it was just as he had suspected; and sending

for Gushtásp, conferred upon him great honor, and appointed him to the

chief command of his army.

Having thus possessed himself of a leader of such skill and intrepidity,

he thought it necessary to turn his attention to external conquest, and

accordingly addressed a letter to Alíás, the ruler of Khuz, in which he

said:--"Thou hast hitherto enjoyed thy kingdom in peace and

tranquillity; but thou must now resign it to me, or prepare for war."

Alíás on receiving this imperious and haughty menace collected his

forces together, and advanced to the contest, and the king of Rúm

assembled his own troops with equal expedition, under the direction of

Gushtásp. The battle was fought with great valor on both sides, and

blood flowed in torrents. Gushtásp challenged Alíás to single combat,

and the warriors met; but in a short time the enemy was thrown from his

horse, and dragged by the young conqueror, in fetters, before the king.

The troops witnessing the prowess of Gushtásp, quickly fled; and the

king commencing a hot pursuit, soon entered their city victoriously,

subdued the whole kingdom, and plundered it of all its property and

wealth. He also gained over the army, and with this powerful addition to

his own forces, and with the booty he had secured, returned triumphantly

to Rúm.

In consequence of this brilliant success, the king conferred additional

honors on Gushtásp, who now began to display the ambition which he had

long cherished. Aspiring to the sovereignty of Irán, he spoke to the

Rúmí warriors on the subject of an invasion of that country, but they

refused to enter into his schemes, conceiving that there was no chance

of success. At this Gushtásp took fire, and declared that he knew the

power and resources of his father perfectly, and that the conquest would

be attended with no difficulty. He then went to the king, and said: "Thy

chiefs are afraid to fight against Lohurásp; I will myself undertake the

task with even an inconsiderable army." The king was overjoyed, and

kissed his head and face, and loaded him with presents, and ordered his

secretary to write to Lohurásp in the following terms: "I am anxious to

meet thee in battle, but if thou art not disposed to fight, I will

permit thee to remain at peace, on condition of surrendering to me half

thy kingdom. Should this be refused, I will myself deprive thee of thy

whole sovereignty." When this letter was conveyed by the hands of Kabús

to Irán, Lohurásp, upon reading it, was moved to laughter, and

exclaimed, "What is all this? The king of Rúm has happened to obtain

possession of the little kingdom of Khuz, and he has become insane with

pride!" He then asked Kabús by what means he accomplished the capture of

Khuz, and how he managed to kill Alíás. The messenger replied, that his

success was owing to a youth of noble aspect and invincible courage, who

had first destroyed a ferocious wolf, then a dragon, and had afterwards

dragged Alíás from his horse, with as much ease as if he had been a

chicken, and laid him prostrate at the feet of the king of Rúm. Lohurásp

enquired his name, and he answered, Gushtásp. "Does he resemble in

feature any person in this assembly?" Kabús looked round about him, and

pointed to Zarír, from which Lohurásp concluded that it must be his own

son, and sat silent. But he soon determined on what answer to send, and

it was contained in the following words: "Do not take me for an Alíás,

nor think that one hero of thine is competent to oppose me. I have a

hundred equal to him. Continue, therefore, to pay me tribute, or I will

lay waste thy whole country." With this letter he dismissed Kabús; and

as soon as the messenger had departed, addressed himself to Zarír,

saying: "Thou must go in the character of an ambassador from me to the

king of Rúm, and represent to him the justice and propriety of

preserving peace. After thy conference with him repair to the house of

Gushtásp, and in my name ask his forgiveness for what I have done. I was

not before aware of his merit, and day and night I think of him with

repentance and sorrow. Tell him to pardon his old father's infirmities,

and come back to Irán, to his own country and home, that I may resign to

him my crown and throne, and like Kai-khosráu, take leave of the world.

It is my desire to deliver myself up to prayer and devotion, and to

appoint Gushtásp my successor, for he appears to be eminently worthy of

that honor." Zarír acted scrupulously, in conformity with his

instructions; and having first had an interview with the king, hastened

to the house of his brother, by whom he was received with affection and

gladness. After the usual interchange of congratulations and enquiry, he

stated to him the views and the resolutions of his father, who on the

faith of his royal word promised to appoint him his successor, and

thought of him with the most cordial attachment. Gushtásp was as much

astonished as delighted with this information, and his anxiety being

great to return to his own country, he that very night, accompanied by

his wife Kitabún, and Zarír, set out for Irán. Approaching the city, he

was met by an istakbál, or honorary deputation of warriors, sent by the

king; and when he arrived at court, Lohurásp descended from his throne

and embraced him with paternal affection, shedding tears of contrition

for having previously treated him not only with neglect but severity.

However he now made him ample atonement, and ordering a golden chair of

royalty to be constructed and placed close to his own, they both sat

together, and the people by command tendered to him unanimously their

respect and allegiance. Lohurásp repeatedly said to him:--

"What has been done was Fate's decree,

Man cannot strive with destiny.

To be unfeeling once was mine,

At length to be a sovereign thine."

Thus spoke the king, and kissed the crown,

And gave it to his valiant son.

Soon afterwards he relinquished all authority in the empire, assumed the

coarse habit of a recluse, retired to a celebrated place of pilgrimage,

near Balkh. There, in a solitary cell, he devoted the remainder of his

life to prayer and the worship of God. The period of Lohurásp's

government lasted one hundred and twenty years.