“O Tartar King, well thou knowest that Persia sought not this war, but Afrasiab, who thought to subdue a masterless land, to satisfy his own ambitions, thus following in the footsteps of Tur, his grandsire. For, even as he robbed Iran of gentle Irij, so Afrasiab hath taken from it Nuder the Shah; and from thee, O King, thy noble young son whom he so cruelly stabbed! Nevertheless, since Kaikobad loveth peace rather than war, he agreeth to thy proposals of peace; but see to it well that Afrasiab crosseth not the Jihun.”
So peace was made between Iran and Turan, and so Rustem won his first laurels as a warrior.
RUSTEM’S SEVEN LABORS, OR ADVENTURES
Listen unto the tale of the seven adventures of Rustem, encountered while rescuing a foolish Shah from the consequences of his folly.
Now the foolish one was not the glorious Kaikobad who reigned beneficently over Iran for twice fifty years, but his son Kaikous, who, when his father exchanged the palace for the tomb, seated himself upon the throne of light, at first exercising many of the princely virtues of his illustrious predecessors. But alas! as his riches increased and his armies grew stronger, he became filled with self-admiration and pride, indulging more and more in the fascinations of the wine cup, until in the midst of his luxurious feasting with his warriors and chiefs, he, like the great Shah Jemshid, beheld no one but himself in the world.
Then it came to pass that one day as the vain Shah sat in his trellised bower in the garden of roses, drinking wine, boasting, and making merry with his friends, a Deev, disguised as a minstrel and playing sweetly upon his harp, presented himself before the King’s chamberlain, desiring audience. And he said:
“Thou beholdest before thee, O Servant of the King, a singer of sweet songs, come unto thee from Mazinderan, desiring to pay homage unto the great King of Kings. Admit me, therefore, I pray thee, into the arbor of flowers, for in my throat are gay singing-birds which will make the bower a paradise of joy.”
So the chamberlain, beguiled by the charm of the youth, hastened at once unto the King to beg audience for him. And he said:
“O Shelter of the Universe, at the gate is a minstrel with his harp. And lo! in his throat he hides a flock of singing-birds fresh from the gardens of paradise. He hath come hither desiring to prostrate himself before the most illustrious of all the Shahs of Iran, and he awaiteth thy commands, being naught but the dust at thy feet.”
So the King, pleased with this flattery, and with no suspicion of guile, commanded that the musician be brought before him. Then the youth, being admitted, and having performed obeisance, warbled forth unto the monarch words of deep cunning, for his song was of the enchanted land of the Genii: