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Shahnameh (play) Prologue Ferdowsi: A night as black as coal bedaubed with pitch,

A night of ebony, a night on which

Mars, Mercury and Saturn would not rise.

Even the moon seemed fearful of the skies -

Her face was three fourths dimmed, and all the night

Looked grimed and dusty in her pallid light.

The heavens seemed rusted iron, as if each star

Were blotted out by tenebrous, thick tar,

Dark Ahriman appeared on every side

Like a huge snake whose jaws gape open wide.

The garden, and the stream by which I lay,

Became a sea of pitch; it seemed that day

Would never come, the skies no longer turned,

The weakened sun no longer moved or burned.

Fear gripped the world and utter silence fell

Stilling the clamor of the watchman’s bell,

Silencing all the myriad cries and calls

Of everything that flies or walks or crawls.

I started up, bewildered, terrified,

My fear awoke the woman at my side.

I called for her to bring me torches, light -

She fetched bright candles to dispel the night

And laid a little feast on which to dine,

Red pomegranates, citrons, quinces, wine,

Together with a polished goblet fit

For kings or emperors to drink from it.

And then she took my hand and gently said:

Woman: Has sleep refused to visit your soft bed?

Drink up your wine and - as you do so - I

Will tell you stories from the days gone by:

Tales of great heroes, war, and chivalry,

Of love and murder, conquest, trickery,

Of battles and of banquets; in my stories

The hidden past and all its darkened glories

Will be revealed to you; and when you’ve heard

The tales I tell, record them word for word.

1. The Creation and the Fatal Division

As the woman unveils the dawn of history, the characters come alive- a silent, vivid

animation

God made the world, and wisdom, and mankind,

And chose a king to rule them, Keyumars,

Whose sovereignty the animals acknowledged,

Bowing in reverence before his throne.

But all the earth was still the haunt of demons;

Their master, Ahriman, despised the king

And mustered devilish forces to attack him.

The king’s son, Siamak, led out his armies,

But in the battle’s heat a demon’s claw

Ripped his gut open, and the young prince died.

King Keyumars mourned for a year, until

An angel came and told him to renew the war,

And Siamak’s son Hushang killed the devil

Whose claws had once destroyed his father.

For generations then the world’s kings fought

Against the demons under Ahriman,

The source of all the universe’s evil,

And pushed them back, confining them, until

They’d break free, and the battles were renewed.

The greatest of these monarchs was King Jamshid

Who taught mankind the arts of peace and war,

The skills of farming, weaving, forging weapons,

Building and medicine, trade and irrigation,

And instituted yearly festivals

So that the order of men’s earthly lives

Was governed by the turning of the heavens.

The demons were his slaves, and made a throne

On which their conqueror sat, lifted by them

Up to the heavens that no man can subdue.

Jamshid surveyed the world beneath his throne

And saw that no one could compare with him

In splendor, might, or knowledge, and he claimed

He was God’s equal. God took his glory from him;

Jamshid became unjust, his people sought

An Arab king, Merdas, a man renowned

For his humility and righteousness,

And asked him to become the Persian monarch.

Merdas’s oldest son was called Zahhak,

A moody, turbulent, ambitious prince.

Eblis, a devil, came to him one day

Disguised as a young, loyal courtier who

Was worried that his prince had been passed over.

Zahhak The Serpent King

Mehrab’s Court, Garden: Zahhak, Eblis

Eblis: This new development, these Persians here

With all their grand proposals for your father,

Have set me thinking . . .

Zahhak: Well? What’s in your mind?

Eblis: You have to promise first that what I say

Won’t anger you, and that it will remain

Strictly between us.

Zahhak: Yes, of course; go on;

I’m not some crazy tyrant, you can trust me.

Eblis: Then listen, you should be in charge, not him.

Your father’s old; his body and his mind

Are both worn out, decrepit, useless.

It’s you that ought to rule here in this land,

And now it seems you could rule Persia too.

You’re young, intelligent, and strong; you’re all

A king should be, my lord. What’s stopping you?

Zahhak: He won’t consent to that. What are you saying,

That I should somehow elbow him aside?

I can’t do this. Don’t mention it again.

Eblis: But didn’t you just say that I could trust you?

How can I, when you won’t take my advice?

Stay as a groveling subject then, and let

That doddering fool your father be proclaimed

As Persia’s ruler and the king of kings.

Zahhak: But how can I . . .?

Eblis: Trust me; I’ll see to it.

Each day, before the sun comes up, he goes

Into his orchard where he prays in private.

Before another morning dawns I’ll dig

A pit that will await him in night’s darkness,

And whilst his eyes are fixed upon the sky

His feet will stumble, and his back will break.

It will be you the Persian lords will bring

Back to their land, to rule them as their king.

Narrator: (Eblis) And so Zahhak was crowned as Persia’s sovereign.

Jamshid was driven from the throne and fled

To China, where he lived upon the shore,

A fugitive who scavenged for his food,

Until Eblis’s demons finally

Caught up with him, and sawed his trunk in two,

And let the ocean’s fish devour his flesh.

Eblis decided that he’d pay Zahhak

Another visit, as a cook this time.

Persian Court: Zahhak, Courtiers, Eblis

Zahhak: A cook? What kind of cook? Well, let him in.

(Eblis is brought in)

My courtiers tell me you’re a famous cook.

What can you cook?

Eblis: Here is a simple dish,

My lord, which fortifies the flesh, and gives

Men strength; it’s made of egg-yolks principally.

Zahhak: And it’s delicious. What else can you cook?

Eblis: The flesh of animals provides the best

Ingredients for kings to feast upon.

This for example is a noble dish

Made from both partridge and white pheasant meat;

And here are tasty lamb kebabs and chicken;

Here is a truly royal dish, my lord,

That tastes like paradise: it’s veal that’s cooked

In saffron, wine, pure rosewater, and musk.

Zahhak: I’ve never tasted such enchanting food,

And as you’ve nourished me I’ll nourish you.

Consider what you’d like from me; it’s yours.

Eblis: To give you food is food enough for me,

To have you look with approbation on

My art is all the nourishment I need.

But if you wish to grant me a reward

Allow my lips to kiss my sovereign’s shoulders.

Zahhak: Gladly, but is this all you want from me?

Eblis: Your servant is rewarded with a kiss . . .

Like this, (he kisses one shoulder) your majesty, and now like this.

(He kisses the other shoulder; Zahhak screams in agony; snakes grow

from his shoulders)

Zahhak, the food those snakes require is meat.

Each day two Persian youths must die to feed

Your royal shoulders’ snakes’ voracious greed;

They’ll feast upon their youthful victims’ brains

Till not a soul in all your realm remains.

(Eblis vanishes).

Narrator: Zahhak ruled Persia for a thousand years,

And in this time the wise concealed themselves

While evil, magic, and injustice flourished.

The palace kitchens were an abattoir

Where young men lost their lives each day to feed

The hungry snakes that writhed about his shoulders.

He took King Jamshid’s sisters as his wives,

And made them into necromancers, witches,

Women who could foresee men’s future fates.

Zahhak: One night Zahhak dreamt that three warriors

Confronted him, and that the youngest thrust

Him ignominiously from the throne,

And flayed his quivering body of its skin.

He cried out in his sleep, and woke in terror

Begging his witches to explain the nightmare.

They hung their heads in silent fear until

He promised that no harm would come to them.

Sister: A great prince even now is being born,

Who has the favor of almighty heaven;

He will defeat you, and then rule this land.

This noble prince’s name is Feraydun.

Zahhak: Zahhak gave orders that this Feraydun

Be found at once, and murdered in his cradle.

Narrator: But Feraydun’s wise mother, Faranak,

Foresaw his desperate schemes and hid her son

With Barmayeh, a cow endowed by God

With supernatural powers, strength, and beauty.

Feraydun: Fed by her milk, young Feraydun grew up

To be a wonder-worker versed in magic,

A warrior like a whirlwind, who began

To gather troops to overthrow Zahhak.

But at the king’s court slaughter still prevailed.

The Blacksmith’s Apron

Persian Court: Zahhak, Courtiers

Zahhak: My honored councilors, no doubt you’ve heard

That there’s a rebel in these lands who spreads

Sedition everywhere, and to whose flag

Fools, louts, and malcontents begin to flock.

I needn’t say his name, everyone here’s

Aware of it. It’s time that he were taught

A lesson that this land will not forget.

I need to raise an army, and I need

Your oath of loyalty that you’ll support me.

To this end I’ve prepared a document,

That all of you will sign, attesting to

The righteousness and justice of my reign.

Who’ll be the first to sign?

Courtier 1: You can’t come in . . .

Courtier 2: What’s that disturbance at the door?

Courtier 3: Who’s this?

(Enter Kaveh)

Kaveh: I am a blacksmith, and my name is Kaveh;

I’ve business with the king . . .

Zahhak: Tell us this “business”.

Kaveh: (to Zahhak)

So now I see you, face to face.

Courtier 3: Speak more

Respectfully before his majesty,

Where are your manners, blacksmith? Down on your knees.

Kaveh: (addressing Zahhak)

It’s you whom I accuse, you are the fire

That’s burnt the substance of my life to ashes,

The pestilence that poisons all you touch.

A king then, or a monster, which are you?

Men say you’re sovereign over seven realms,

But why must Persia suffer while you reign?

You’re like a parasite that drinks our blood

And bloats itself while what it feeds upon

Is leached of life and dies. Do you deny this?

Zahhak: Control yourself, your words are like the wind,

And there is nothing I can grasp in them.

Tell me specifically what your complaint is.

Kaveh: Why is it that my son’s brains have to feed

Your snakes’ insatiable and monstrous greed?

Zahhak: When was this son of yours brought to the court?

Kaveh: At dawn today.

Zahhak: Then he is still alive.

Restore this man’s son to his father’s arms.

You see, I’m reasonable; I simply need

To understand the facts. You say that you’re

A blacksmith, yes?

Kaveh: I am.

Zahhak: A noble trade,

Where would we be without our workmen’s strength?

And I can see that you’re a fine, shrewd man,

One who I’m sure is influential in

His village council’s arguments, and whose

Opinion everyone respects and acts on.

Well, am I right?

Kaveh: What of it if you are?

Zahhak: My courtiers have prepared a document

That lists my reign’s accomplishments, and adds

That I have always acted righteously,

As I have now, in giving you your son.

We were just signing it, when you burst in.

I think, Kaveh, that you should sign it too;

And, if you can’t sign, you can make your mark.

Give him the document we were discussing.

(Kaveh begins to read it)

So, you can read, but that’s not necessary . . .

Kaveh: (To the courtiers)

This is the document you’re lining up

To add your cowardly names to? Where’s your shame,

Your pride, your honor? Where’s your dignity?

Have his disgusting serpents swallowed them

As well as all the human brains they’ve fed on?

Your frightened faces are set fare for hell;

Your hearts believe Zahhak, you wish him well;

Good then, I wish you well of him, but I

Will seek out Feraydun; I’d rather die

Than sign the sickening lies you’ve sworn to here,

Or sell my soul, as you’ve done, out of fear.

(He rips the document in two)

This is my blacksmith’s apron; it will be

A banner raised to set all Persia free,

To rally troops to Feraydun, whose might

Will quickly turn your day to endless night.

(as he exits courtiers try to stop him)

Zahhak: Let him go; let him go!

Courtier 1: But why, my lord?

Why should he rip our testament to you,

And go out to preach treason in the highways?

Zahhak: When he appeared I saw a wonder with him;

It was as if a mountain made of iron

Rose up between us and protected him;

And when he spoke, I thought I felt my heart

Shatter within my chest . . .

Courtier 2: The king has fainted.

Quickly, send soldiers to arrest Kaveh;

Drag him back here, don’t let him get away.

Narrator (Kaveh): But he escaped, and everywhere he went

Men saw his leather apron raised aloft

And knew it as the banner of rebellion.

A milling crowd soon followed him; it grew

Into a mighty army, Kaveh’s men,

Who joined with Feraydun’s defiant forces.

Feraydun: The blacksmith’s leather apron now became

The flag the insurrection’s soldiers followed;

They hung the lowly leather with silk streamers,

And Feraydun encrusted it with jewels;

From that time on the Kaviani banner

Became the standard of the Persian kings.

Kaveh: It led the Persian forces into battle

When Feraydun defeated King Zahhak

Who was imprisoned in Mount Damavand,

Chained to the rock; and there the demon writhes

Beneath the mountain’s monstrous weight forever.

The Three Sons

Feraydun: Prince Feraydun was king; his first act was

To free King Jamshid’s sisters from their shame,

And pardon them, and take them as his wives.

Older Sister: The older sister gave him two fine sons

Named Salm and Tur;

Younger sister: the younger sister too

Bore him a son, his youngest, called Iraj.

Feraydun: When they were grown the king dispatched

Jandal, his envoy, to his neighbors’ courts

To find the Persian princes royal wives.

Jandal returned at last, with welcome news.

Persian Court:Feraydun, Jandal, Salm, Tur, Iraj

Jandal: The ruler of the Yemen has three daughters;

All three are now of marriageable age,

Charming and elegant young women, wise,

Accomplished, suitable in every way

To be the wives your noble princes seek.

Feraydun: Then you have solved our problems; your success,

Jandal, will be rewarded handsomely.

Jandal: Perhaps our problems aren’t quite solved, my lord.

The king is cognizant of the great honor

You’re doing him, but he adores his daughters;

The thought that they might marry, and then leave,

Torments him. He has asked me to propose

A little test . . .

Feraydun: A test?

Jandal: He wants your sons

To choose according to their age; the oldest

Must choose the oldest girl, the next the next,

The youngest must select the youngest daughter.

If they succeed he says he will agree

To let his daughters marry; if they fail

His daughters are to stay with him, unmarried.

I think he’ll try to trick your sons, my lord.

Feraydun: What can he do? Be vigilant, my boys,

Don’t let this fox deceive you. Be polite,

Act well, as princes should, but stay alert

For any stratagems that he might use.

I think he’ll seat the youngest in the place

Of honor, and the oldest the most obscurely.

In fact I’m sure that this is how he’ll act.

Keep this in mind, and confidently claim

Your brides.

Salm: You needn’t be concerned for us.

Tur: This king will not deceive us, rest assured.

Iraj: We’ll do as you’ve instructed us, my lord.

Narrator (Jandal?): The king did just as Feraydun predicted.

The princes soon saw through his ruse, and claimed

His daughters as their brides; reluctantly

The king consented to the marriages,

And after a prolonged and tearful parting

The princes set off homewards with their wives.

A mountain pass: Salm, Tur, Iraj, Arezu, Azadeh, Sahi

Tur: We’re almost home now; this defile’s the last

Before you’ll see our father, Feraydun.

Salm: You see how beautiful the land is here?

You won’t regret your marriages to us.

Arezu (Salm’s wife): What makes you think we would?

Azadeh (Tur’s wife): Our father’s wishes

Don’t correspond with ours, you know. Why should they?

Sahi (Iraj’s wife): If you’ll be faithful to your marriage vows

Persia can only bring me joy, I’m sure.

Iraj: By joyful then, my bride; be Persia’s queen,

The loveliest princess she has ever seen.

A dragon confronts them. The dragon attacks Salm.

Salm: A wise man doesn’t fight with dragons! Run!

Salm runs away; the dragon attacks Tur, who lunges wildly at it.

Tur: If combat’s what is needed I can fight

With lions and warriors, and a dragon won’t

Make Tur give ground; monster, prepare to die.

The dragon subdues Tur, then turns its attention to Iraj.

Iraj: Out of our path, foul fiend; go, step aside;

If you have heard of Feraydun, then know

That we’re his valiant sons; leave us, or I

Will give your head a crown that you’ll regret.

The dragon withdraws; Tur picks himself up, Salm slinks back.

Feraydun enters in his own form.

Feraydun: The lovely wives you’ve brought back here are welcome.

I was the dragon who confronted you,

Transformed by magic that I learned when I

Was still a child, in hiding from the world.

This was the test you had to pass, my sons,

Not the poor king of Yemen’s trivial trick.

Salm, I perceive that you’re a person who

Will always put his safety first, and there’s

No harm in that; caution’s a quality

That will ensure a prince’s long survival.

You, Tur, are like a lion that’s enraged,

Impetuous and brave; too brave perhaps

For your own good, but with a warrior’s heart.

And you Iraj, who stood your ground, who neither

Fled from the fiery enemy that faced you,

Nor wildly threw all caution to the winds;

My youngest son, who takes the middle way

Between earth’s caution and fire’s reckless haste,

You’ve shown me that your heart’s both brave and prudent.

Salm: I guessed you were the dragon . . .

Tur: So did I;

Both of us realized this was just a show,

And played along with you. Only Iraj

Was taken in by your transparent trick.

Iraj: You seemed as taken in as I was, Tur,

And, Salm, I think that you were hoodwinked too.

Salm: Iraj, we aren’t all quite as gullible

As you appear to be.

Tur: I wasn’t duped.

Feraydun: This is no time for childish arguments;

My sons, we’ve serious matter to discuss.

You’re married now, the time has come for you

To found strong dynasties and rule the world

As I’ve divided and apportioned it,

Equitably, between the three of you,

While I shall spend the years that still remain

To me in holy privacy and prayer.

You’re all my cherished sons, all worthy of

The might and majesty a king commands.

You, Salm, who saved your skin and fled from battle,

I give you all the western lands, as far

As men can travel to the setting sun.

The West’s your home now, see you rule there well.

And Tur, whose courage is a conflagration

Consuming everything that it encounters,

I give the east and north to you; the Turks

Whose shepherds pitch black tents beyond the Oxus,

The lords who rule the hinterland of China,

Will be your vassals and obey your edicts.

To you, Iraj, my youngest son, I give

The noble land and people of Iran.

Rule justly, all of you, so that your subjects

Wish you long life, and mourn you when you die.

Salm: My lord, surely the oldest son should rule . . .

Feraydun: Salm, I’ve decided what I wish to do;

A father’s word is absolute, you know this,

And sons should not presume to disagree.

Iraj, my boy, I need you; come with me.

Narrator (Tur / Salm): The land beyond the Oxus, where Tur reigned

Was called Turan, in honor of its king,

While Salm’s rule subjugated all the West.

Iraj now ruled Iran, where Feraydun

Abandoned all the weary cares of kingship.

So the years passed, but Slam and Tur remained

Resentful, rancorous, unreconciled

To Feraydun’s division of the world.

The Death of Iraj

A Camp: Salm, Tur

Salm: I know you think like me in this, and that’s why I’ve

Suggested that we meet. When Feraydun,

Our father, gave the world away, and made

The home of heroes our young brother’s kingdom,

He showed himself to be unjust and foolish,

But he was strong still, outwardly, and I

Said nothing, as did you. But we both knew

That this was wrong, and now our father’s weak,

He’ll die soon, and Iraj is just a cipher.

I am the oldest son, I should have sat

Upon Iran’s throne, which is rightly mine.

If for some reason he left me aside

He should have chosen you, the next in line.

Instead . . .

Tur: The youngest occupies the throne,

Our baby brother lords it over us.

The tree our father planted in that ground

Has blood for sap, its fruit is poisonous,

And we should take a sharpened axe to it.

If we combine our forces we’ll defeat them.

Salm: We needn’t go to war, the threat of it

Should be enough, and I’ve prepared a letter -

One that will put the fear of God in them.

Tell me if you approve of what I’ve written:

“King Feraydun, your two sons wish you well:

Blessings be on the palace where you dwell,

And may the prayers of your old age erase

The guilt of all your sins from younger days.

God gave you all the lands on earth to rule

But then you acted like an evil fool;

You had three sons, all valiant and brave,

You favored one of them, to him you gave

The crown of sovereignty - the other two

Were disregarded and despised by you.

We are not less than him by birth; if he

Deserves the imperial dais so do we,

And God will never look with favor on

Your preferential treatment of this son.

Snatch the crown off his worthless head, and give

Him some dark corner of the earth to live.

If you do not, we’ll bring armed warrior bands

From China, Turkestan, and Western lands

To turn Iraj’s day to dusty night

And humble Persia with our armies’ might”.

Tur: We’ll muster warriors to back up our words

And then they’ll see that this is not mere talk.

Give me the letter, so that I can add

My signature to yours; the axe’s blows

Begin; the tree will fall headlong, and soon.

Feraydun’s Retreat: Feraydun, Iraj

Feraydun: Iraj your brothers threaten war against us -

This letter is a prelude to far worse

And while you wear the crown they’re not your brothers.

Armies are massing in the west and north,

And it is time for you to open wide

Your treasuries, equip your troops, and lead

Your warriors to defend what’s yours by right.

Look for no allies now; your strong right arm,

Your righteousness and innocence, are all

The friends that you’ll discover in this world.

Iraj: Our lives pass from us like the wind, and why Should wise men grieve to know that they must die?

The Judas blossom fades, the lovely face

Of light is dimmed, and darkness takes its place.

The world is pleasure first, then grief, and then

We leave this fleeting world of living men -

The starry heavens turn, and turn again,

And all they bring mankind is blood and pain.

The earth has seen so many men who wore

Kings’ robes and crowns, and will see many more:

Vengeance has never been the royal way,

And I shall not do evil, come what may.

What are the crown and throne to me? Unarmed,

I’ll greet my brothers, whom I’ve never harmed;

I’ll speak to them in kindness; this will be

Better than angry words and enmity.

Feraydun: Iraj, your brothers are intent on war;

Your nature’s noble, and your answer’s noble

And, as they say, it should be no surprise

To see the full moon radiating moonlight.

But what will happen to an unarmed man

Who lays his head down, knowingly, inside

The gaping jaws of a blood-thirsty dragon?

Iraj: Father, I cannot fight against my brothers. Feraydun: If this is your decision, then so be it,

But I will write to them and say that I

Expect to see you here again, unscathed.

I’ll swear in God’s name, by the earth and sun,

The moon, and crown, and throne, that what I’ve done

Was just, and if they harm you they should know

They’ll reap the consequence of what they sow.

A Camp: Salm, Tur

Salm: In my opinion going out to greet him

Was a mistake; you must have seen how all

Our soldiers gazed at him and fawned on him,

And huddled into pairs to sing his praises.

Tur: What does it matter now he’s in our power?

We fooled him with our welcome, and he trusts us,

And in a moment he’ll be in this tent

Alone, unarmed, imagining that we’re

As eager to conclude a peace as he is.

Salm: This wretched business of the Persian throne

Eats at my heart. What right had he to it?

You’d better kill him, as you said you would,

Or it won’t only be the Persian throne

That’s his; our men will make him emperor

Of all the world, and goodbye Tur and Salm!

Tur: I’d better kill him . . . ?

Salm: That’s enough, he’s here. Iraj enters

Iraj: Thank you, my brothers, for the way you rode

So many miles on such unwelcoming tracks

To welcome me and bring me to your camp.

Salm: You are our brother, what did you expect? Tur: Our younger brother; the youngest of the three.

Iraj: Your kindness . . .

Tur: . . . but the throne of Persia’s yours, Not mine, not Salm’s. Why should the youngest brother

Possess the greatest throne in all the world?

Salm: Our father favored you, the youngest son, The least deserving of us all, in his

Absurd division of the world’s affairs.

But we will not allow this usurpation:

The crown, the throne, the sovereignty of Persia

Are mine by right. Do you acknowledge this?

Iraj: Salm, Tur, my brothers, I . . .

Tur: Answer his question; Do you acknowledge Persia’s throne is his?

Iraj: Yes, take it if you want it, either of you.

You’re both ambitious still for princely glory,

But I have no desire to be a king;

I don’t want Persia, China, or the West;

They’re yours to rule, and I resign all claims

To regal sovereignty throughout the world.

No matter how exalted we might be

We too must lie down in the dust at last,

Like peasants, like the commoners we rule.

The thought of this . . .

Tur: Iraj, you talk too much,

And everything you say enrages me.

(Tur grasps the throne on which he’s been sitting and swings it at Iraj’s

head; Iraj is sent sprawling)

Iraj: You have a soul yourself, how can you think To snatch another’s soul away like this?

Your brother’s blood will be upon your head

And you’ll be damned for all eternity.

Even the ants beneath our feet love life

And cling to it; how can you kill me, Tur?

Have you no fear of God, no shame before

Our father, Feraydun? The crown is yours,

The world is yours, you’ve everything you wanted.

I’ll live obscurely and in poverty,

You’ll never have to hear of me again.

Tur, let me live at least; don’t murder me.

(Tur takes a dagger from his boot and stabs Iraj to death).

Tur: I killed him, Salm, not you. Iran is mine. We’ll send his hacked-off head to Feraydun,

And put a message in the coffin saying,

“Here is your precious darling, father, whom

You crowned unjustly as the Persian king.

See how the royal crown looks on him now,

But understand that this branch of your tree

Has been snapped off, and cannot grow again”.

Narrator: When Feraydun received Iraj’s head He burned the royal palace in his grief,

And razed the orchards where the boy had played,

And when coherent speech came back to him

He cursed both Salm and Tur:

Feraydun: Great Lord of Justice, Look at this slaughtered innocent, this head

Hacked from its body by these brothers’ daggers,

His body left for wild beasts to devour.

May fire feed on his murderers’ black hearts,

May they know only sorrow in their lives,

May their agonies provoke the very lions

Whose fangs devoured their faultless brother’s flesh

To pity all the sufferings they’ll endure.

But give me time, my Lord, a little time

Until I see a hero come who will

Avenge the evil Salm and Tur have done.

Narrator(Tur): This murder marked the moment when Tur’s land,

Turan, the world that lay beyond the Oxus,

Became Iran’s perpetual enemy.

Salm: What Feraydun had wished for happened:

A woman hidden in Iraj’s harem

Was pregnant by him, and the girl she bore

Grew up to marry Pashang, a Persian prince.

Feraydun: Their child was Manuchehr, a lord who lived

To bring the murderers of his grandfather

To justice.

Manuchehr: He attacked, long wars ensued,

But, finally, the brothers’ bodies lay

Prone on the battlefield, and Manuchehr,

Iraj’s grandson, ruled throughout Iran.

Feraydun: King Feraydun now bowed to Fate’s decree.

The leaf was withered on the royal tree;

He lived his life in mourning: ceaseless tears

And constant grief consumed his final years.

And so, heartbroken, weeping for the past,

He lived, tormented, till Death came at last.

O world, from end to end unreal, untrue,

No wise man can live happily in you.

2. The House of Sistan

Narrator(Chamberlain): Among the petty kings who came to swear

Unswerving loyalty to Manuchehr

When he was crowned, was Sam, whose family ruled

Sistan, a wild and rugged land of mountains,

Upland plains, deep gullies, bordering India,

Whose kings Sam feuded with, and sometimes conquered.

Sam: Sam was a warrior-king, but in his heart

Grief gnawed at him; he had no son to cherish,

To train as his successor when he’d die.

And then the longed-for son was born.

The Savage Youth

Sistan: Sam, Midwife

Sam: And it’s a boy, you say? Where is he then?

Why haven’t you produced him? Show me him.

Why do you stand there saying nothing, woman?

What’s gone wrong? Is he alive?

Midwife: He is alive. Sam: Then put him in my arms, let me embrace

My heir, the future sovereign of Sistan.

Midwife: My lord, he is a perfect baby boy, A lovely child, but there is one small thing

Which you must not allow to influence you

Against this helpless little son of yours.

Sam: What are you saying? What is this “one small thing”?

Midwife: Though he’s newborn, he is already old. His baby hair’s as white as jasmine petals,

As if he were a man who’s lived his life,

And looks into his grave.

Sam: This is a judgment on me: I have sinned,

I asked for what God had withheld from me;

I wasn’t meant to have this son I prayed for.

A newborn child, whose hair’s as white as jasmine?

What shall I say? That he’s the spawn of demons?

This means that I can’t keep him. As you said,

It is his grave this newborn’s looking at.

Midwife: My lord, he is a lovely boy, this blemish . . .

Sam: This blemish as you call it is God’s sign.

Take him away. Take him to where no-one

Can come across him. Let God deal with him.

Lay him among the desert rocks, and leave him.

Midwife: And so they took Sam’s newborn son, and left

The boy to perish on a mountain-side

Where no man ever lived or grazed his flocks.

But there was life there, though it wasn’t human.

These barren slopes were where the magic Simorgh

Had built her nest, and reared her brood of fledglings:

She saw the baby lying there, and swooped down,

Thinking that this would make a tasty morsel

To feed her brawling squabs, and caught him up

Within her talons, and flew back to her aerie.

But then a wonder happened: the Simorgh

And her brood pitied the helpless child, and he

Became another fledgling whom she cared for,

Growing beneath her huge protective wings,

Quarreling for torn-off meat scraps with the rest.

In this way days and months gave way to years,

And Sam’s abandoned son became in time

A lean, hard-bitten youth, a hunter, handsome,

Inured to hardships and to solitude.

Persian Court: Manuchehr, Chamberlain, Sam, Zal

Chamberlain: Your majesty, your vassal Sam is here,

With his son Zal, the wonder all the world’s

Now gossiping about.

Manuchehr: Have them approach the throne.

(Sam and Zal enter) Sam: King Manuchehr, your subjects bow before you.

Manuchehr: And both of you are welcome to my court. So you’re the feral youngster who’s the subject

Of all this endless chatter in my harem,

And every street and market in Iran?

The simorgh’s pupil, brought up in a nest,

A savage stranger to the ways of men?

How did you find him, Sam? And if, as I

Have heard, you thought the white hair he was born with

Meant God had marked your offspring as an outcast,

What made you want to find the boy again?

Sam: But men brought me rumors of a white-haired youth

Haunting the barren mountains of Sistan

And spying on the passing caravans.

And then I dreamed a sage from India

Reproached me with my treatment of my son.

He said that I should seek him out, and bow

Before him in the dust, and ask his pardon

For all the wrongs I’d done to him. And truly,

Seeing him, I saw the evil I had done,

And promised that whatever he desired,

If I could put it in his hands, I would.

Manuchehr (to Zal): Come closer. Say something. You don’t appear To be so different from the rest of us.

Sam: He has been bathed, appropriately dressed, And taught the rudiments of courtly manners.

Manuchehr: It’s him I want to hear. Say something, boy.

Zal: I’m honored by the audience you’ve given To one who was your loyal subject always

Despite the vagaries of my upbringing.

Manuchehr: Well that’s not savage talk! The vagaries! Boy, you can be more blunt. Tell me about

The simorgh and your former life with her.

Zal: She was a mother to me, and will be one.

The rest you must allow me to keep secret.

Manuchehr: And he can pertly answer back a king, And not enrage him. You’ve been lucky, Sam;

Whether from native-wit or what he’s learned

This youngster does you proud, and I suggest

You send him on a tour of all your kingdom;

Have him collect your taxes, meet with people,

See there’s a world beyond the simorgh’s nest.

Sam: We’ll undertake this tour, you majesty.

Manuchehr: No, he will; you I need here in the north. The tribes that live around the Caspian

Have grown too confident; they think that they

Can cross their borders with us as they please

And raid our farms and villages. They need

A lesson taught them; you’re the man to do it,

Muster your troops. And Zal, may Wisdom guide you,

And great Good Fortune always walk beside you.

Zal and Rudabeh

Outside Kabol: Zal, Mehrab (King of Kabolistan), Zal’s Page, Courtiers

Zal: Your riding out to greet us in this way

Confirms the splendor of your reputation.

Mehrab, I thank you for your welcome here,

And let me welcome you with wine and feasting,

At least to the extent a traveler can.

Mehrab: This is my country; you must be my guest.

Zal: But you are mine for now. Shall we sit down? Mehrab: Gladly, but I insist that you agree

To travel with me to my capital,

Kabol, and there my palace will be honored

To have you feast and sleep beneath its roof.

Zal: Why do you ask this, Mehrab? You’re aware That I can’t countenance this invitation.

Sam would not hear of it, and nor, I know,

Would Manuchehr, and I serve both of them.

Too much divides us, and we should respect

Religious differences for what they are:

You worship idols, I do not, and that

Means, as you know, that I can’t enter your

Great palace in Kabol.

Mehrab: Well, as you wish.

Visit the town at least, and you can camp

Beyond our city walls, and we will see

You’ve everything you need while you are there.

I must return now to make preparations.

Zal: But you must stay to feast and drink with us.

Mehrab: With your permission I’ll be on my way.

(Mehrab exits)

Zal: Was I too harsh with him? I told the truth.

King Manuchehr and Sam would not approve

Of what he was proposing.

Courtier 1: What does it matter?

Who’s King Mehrab that we should care about him?

He’s an idolator, a nobody.

Besides, it’s well-known that his wife Sindokht’s

Descended from Zahhak, the worst of kings.

Their clan is cursed, they’re hardly civilized –

The less time that we spend with them the better.

Zal: And you, what is amusing you so much?

Page: Me, my lord? Oh nothing; just that I’ve heard

His palace has some good points after all.

Zal: I’m sure it has; “good points” are not the point.

And anyway, what “good points” do you mean?

Page: I see you haven’t heard the poem then

That’s going round?

Zal: What poem? Out with it!

Page: “In purdah, and unseen by anyone,

He has a daughter lovelier than the sun.

Lashes like ravens’ wings protect a pair

Of eyes like wild narcissi hidden there;

If you would seek the moon, it is her face;

If you seek musk, her hair’s its hiding place:

She is a paradise, arrayed in splendor,

Glorious, graceful, elegantly slender”.

Zal: He has a daughter then. What’s that to me?

And why should I care if she’s beautiful?

The poem just says “she”. Do you know her name?

Kabol: Mehrab, Sindokht (his wife), Rudabeh (their daughter), servant girls

Sindokht: So, Mehrab, how did you find Sam’s son? Are you going to tell your wife

and daughter what he’s like? I heard a rumor that he’s not prepared to

visit us? That we aren’t good enough to have him as our guest because we

“worship idols”?

Mehrab: How long is it since I’ve set eyes on you,

Dear Rudabeh? You’ve grown into a fine young girl!

Where have your mother’s wiles been hiding you?

Rudabeh: I’m always in the palace here, my lord.

Mehrab: My lord? My lord? Come Rudabeh, Mehrab’s

Your loving, generous father, not your “lord”.

Rudabeh: How was your audience with Zal, my . . . father?

Sindokht: Yes, what’s he like? Would you say he belongs on a throne, or in the nest

where he was raised? Does he seem human at all? Or is he like an Indian

monkey, or a demon? Is it true his hair’s as white as camphor?

Mehrab: He’s not a demon, or an Indian monkey,

That’s for sure. It’s true, he’s prickly though.

Rudabeh: I’ve heard that he’s a noble, handsome prince.

Mehrab: You’ll see no other horseman to compare With Zal, he has no equal anywhere:

As ruddy as the pomegranate flower –

Youthful, and with a young man’s luck and power;

Fierce in revenge, and in the saddle he’s

A sharp-clawed dragon to his enemies;

Possessed of mammoth strength, a lion’s guile,

His arms are mighty as the flooding Nile;

He scatters gold when he’s in court, and when

He’s on the battlefield the heads of men.

He has one fault - which after all’s so slight

No one remarks on it - his hair is white.

Sindokht: That’s quite a speech. Especially since I’ve heard that he insulted you.

Mehrab: Well, he’s a charmer, take my word for it. All our courtiers felt the same about him.

Sindokht, I need to talk with you in private.

(Mehrab and Sindokht exit)

Rudabeh: “As ruddy as the pomegranate flower –

Youthful, and with a young man’s luck and power . . .”

Come here, girls. You know I think of you as my friends, and wish all of

you luck in your lives. I’m going to tell you a secret: I’m in love, and my

love is like a wave of the sea that’s cresting up towards heaven. Long

before he came here, I’d heard stories about him and wanted to meet him,

and even when I sleep I fancy I dream about him. And now after hearing

what my father said my heart’s ready to burst with thoughts of Zal. The

place in my heart where I should feel shame is brimful of love instead, and

day and night I imagine his face. Now, help me, what do you think, what

do you advise?

Servant 1: But there’s no princess to compare with you, Not anywhere. My lady you’re the crown,

The jewel that every prince in all the world

Desires and would lay down his life to marry.

No cypress has your stature, and the Pleaides

Are jealous of the brilliance of your splendor.

Servant 2: Your father’s sent your portrait throughout India

And all the western lands, and every day

You hear of suitors eager for your hand.

Servant 3: This is a shameful thing to say, my lady.

Servant 1: Could you embrace a man who has refused Your father’s royal hospitality,

Who has insulted him before his courtiers?

Servant 2: Someone brought up inside a filthy nest, A man that people joke about because

They don’t know if he’s human or a bird?

Servant 3: And who was born an old man with white hair? How can a young girl want to kiss an old man?

Servant 1: The world is filled with love for you, my lady, Your portrait’s found in every royal palace,

And every mother wants her son to marry you.

Rudabeh: Stop! Be quiet, all of you! It’s pointless to listen to such foolish talk; I don’t want the Chinese emperor, nor the king of the west, nor the king of

Persia. Sam’s son, Zal, is the man I want. He is my only equal. Call him

old or young, call him bird or man, Zal and Zal alone will be body and

soul to me.

Servant 3: We are your slaves, my lady, and our hearts Are filled with love for you. May Wisdom guide you.

Servant 2: We bow with shame that we have angered you.

Servant 1: We’ll do what you require. We’ll fly with birds And run with deer, learn spells and incantations,

And practice magic so that we can bring

This wonder that you dream of to your side.

Rudabeh: Come back to earth, girls. There’s no need for spells.

The magic that’s around us will suffice -

The New Year’s here, our palace must be filled

With flowers to celebrate the spring’s return.

Zal’s camp is by the river, where wild tulips,

Hyacinths, flag irises, and lilies grow.

You’ve my permission now to gather them,

And catch a glimpse of Zal, and tell him I

Would welcome him within my private rooms

If he could find a way to come to me.

If you can bring us to each other’s arms,

You’ll plant a tree whose fruits will be your wealth,

And my unending gratitude and joy.

Zal’s Camp: Zal, his Page, Rudabeh’s Servant Girls

Zal: Who are those girls, beyond the river there,

Who seem to be intent on picking flowers,

And at the same time can’t stop eyeing us?

Zal’s page: I’ve heard that they’re the servants of the princess,

King Mehrab’s daughter, Rudabeh, who lives

Within the castle you refused to visit.

Zal: Is that so? Then it’s time for me to hunt.

Hand me my bow, and watch. I’ll bring a duck down,

On their side of the river, near to them,

And I want you to wade across, as if

To fetch it back. See that you speak to them,

Politely mind you, and say Sam’s son Zal,

The crown prince of Sistan, sends greetings to

Their royal mistress, Princess Rudabeh.

Look, there’s a duck (he shoots); it’s down, go after it.

(The servant girls hide the duck, passing it from one to another, teasing

the page, who goes to fetch it)

Servant 1: What have you come for, little boy? Servant 2: Is it this?

Servant 3: Who is the man you just left, over there?

He’s a good shot, isn’t he? Is he your friend?

Zal’s page: Don’t talk about my prince like that. He’s Zal,

My master and the crown prince of Sistan.

The heavens don’t turn above a nobler knight.

He says that if you serve the princess Rudabeh

He sends his greetings to your royal mistress.

Servant 2: “The heavens don’t turn above a nobler knight”

But Rudabeh’s as fine a woman as

Your clever master, Zal there, is a man.

She has a message too, for him. Will you

Deliver it to him, boy? Here’s your duck.

Zal’s page: And what else will you give me then? A kiss?

Servant 1: You cheeky little devil, mind your tongue!

I’ll tell your master if you’re difficult.

This is the message: if Zal comes tonight

And waits beneath our castle’s ramparts, he

Will see a sight to make his heart rejoice.

Now, did you get that? Say it back to me.

Zal’s page: If Zal comes to your castle walls tonight He’ll see a sight to make his heart rejoice.

Servant 1: Good boy; now, here’s your kiss, and off you go.

Kabol, Castle Ramparts: Rudabeh, Servant Girls

Rudabeh: Where is he then? I thought you said

He was to come here when night fell, but I

Can’t make out anything down there.

Servant 1: Patience, my lady, he is sure to come. Look, there, I saw a movement in the darkness.

(Zal enters)

Rudabeh: Welcome, young man. God’s blessings be upon you, And on my slave girls too, because I see

Their words, describing your perfections when

They’d seen you hunting, were the simple truth.

Zal: And may the heaven’s blessings light on you;

Each night, all night, since I first heard your name,

I’ve lain awake and gazed up at the moon

And thought of matchless Rudabeh; and now

I stare into the darkness of the sky

And seem to see another moon that fills

The firmament with radiance and beauty.

But how can I ascend your castle’s walls?

Rudabeh: (she lets down her hair)

Grasp my black locks and use them as your ladder;

Take hold of them, and clamber up to me.

What holds you back? Why do you hesitate?

Zal: I’d twist a spear within my heart, before

I’d offer any injury to you.

But catch my lariat as I cast it up

And I’ll be at your side within a moment.

(he throws the lariat and climbs up to her)

Rudabeh: Here, take my hand. And now I have your hand In mine, Zal, I shall never let it go.

Zal: The hand you hold is yours, as Zal is yours; Why should you let Zal go, dear Rudabeh?

Rudabeh: Come to my room now, quickly, where I’ve wine

And music waiting, and we’ll pass the night

Sharing the inmost secrets of our hearts.

Come, Zal. I think that I could say your name

Forever now, I love its sound so much.

Narrator (Servant girls):

From moment then to moment their desire

Gained strength, and wisdom fled before love’s fire;

Passion engulfed them, and these lovers lay

Entwined together till the break of day.

So tightly they embraced, before Zal left,

Zal was the warp, and Rudabeh the weft

Of one cloth, as with tears they said goodbye

And cursed the sun for rising in the sky.

Zal let himself down from the battlements,

And made his way back to his army’s tents.

Kabol Castle: Sindokht, Rudabeh’s Messenger (messenger to be one of the servant girls)

Sindokht: You! Yes you! You’re my daughter’s servant, aren’t you? What are you

doing skulking about the palace like this, and then leaving at dusk for who

knows where and sneaking back in again? Do you think I haven’t noticed?

What are you up to? And why the furtive look? Look at me when I speak

to you.

Servant 1: My lady, Princess Rudabeh told me that she wanted to buy

jewelry, so I brought her a gold diadem to consider, and some other

pieces set with precious stones.

Sindokht: Show them to me.

Servant 1: I left them with her.

Sindokht: Show me the money that she paid you for them.

Servant 1: I . . . I left the pieces on approval. She asked me to fetch some others, and

said she choose and pay me then.

Sindokht: You’re lying, I can see it in your face. Come here. I said, Come here.

(She searches the serving girl and finds an embroidered scarf) What’s

this? Are you the arrow in this business, or the bow? Send your mistress to

me. Tell her her mother needs her.

(the serving girl leaves)

The embroidery on this scarf is hers.

Who is it meant for? that’s the important thing.

I suppose she’s old enough to start these games.

It’s clear I should have been more vigilant.

(Rudabeh enters)

What’s this, young lady? Tell me now, who was

To be its fortunate recipient?

Well, what have you got to say for yourself?

You’re a princess, Rudabeh, so act like one,

Not like some sneaky, common criminal.

I only want what’s best for you, my child,

But first I have to know what’s going on.

Who was this scarf of yours intended for?

Ours is a noble family; if you

Bring any whiff of scandal to this castle,

Do you know how your father will react?

If you don’t trust me, Rudabeh, if you

Won’t tell me what it is that you’re involved in,

Then I can’t help you, and no one else here will.

Rudabeh: I wish I’d not been born, and then there’d be

No question of my good or bad behavior.

Mother, I know you’re wiser than I am,

And that you see things that I don’t, and I’ve

No wish to hurt or anger you, but I . . .

Sindokht: But I . . .? What is it that you need to say?

Tell me. Rudabeh, trust me and tell me.

Rudabeh: Mother, my heart . . . it’s not mine to control.

I think of Zal, Sistan’s prince, night and day.

I love him, mother, I can’t live without him,

Now he’s not here I spend my days in crying,

If I can’t be his wife I know I’ll die.

He came to me, his love for me’s as strong

As mine for him, he swore he’ll be my husband.

Sindokht: What do you mean he came to you? When? How?

Rudabeh: One night. He spent the night here. In my room.

Sindokht: O Rudabeh, you foolish, foolish girl.

Rudabeh: He’s written to his father, Sam; he says

That Sam was angry, but Zal knew he would be,

And Sam’s agreed, reluctantly it’s true,

But he’s agreed. The servant whom you caught

Has been my messenger to Zal, and now

She’s brought me word that Sam says we can marry.

Sindokht: Well, this is understandable, my child,

But it’s not wise, and could be dangerous.

There is a problem we can’t overlook.

Oh I don’t mean his white hair, or that talk

Of how he was brought up. No, what matters is

The fact that Manuchehr, the Persian king,

Considers us his mortal enemies.

A king’s rage isn’t something to ignore,

And neither is your father’s, Rudabeh.

But even so, it might be possible.

I won’t say no; at least not yet. It will

Be difficult and more than difficult,

But let me broach the matter with your father.

Persian Court: Manuchehr, Sam

Manuchehr: I hope this silly rumor that I’ve heard

About your son is nothing more than lies?

It’s not true, is it, that he’s considering

A marriage with Mehrab’s child, Rudabeh?

Sam: It seems the two have met, your majesty.

Manuchehr: Think what a child of those two would be like.

It’s fire and water, Sam, honey and poison,

It’s sowing endless trouble and sedition.

Isn’t it, Sam?

Sam: The young people have met.

Manuchehr: And shouldn’t meet again. By policy

And war, I’ve freed this country from the grip

Of criminals and demons. This alliance

Would raise up a defeated race and give

Them parity with us. Mehrab has been

A goad in Persia’s flank for far too long.

I want you to destroy him and his family.

See that you burn his castle and his city.

He’s dragon-spawn, he fills the peaceful world

With brawls and arguments and war: I want

His seed eradicated from the earth.

Sam: My lord, you heard my promises to Zal

That I’d procure for him whatever he

Most wanted in the world.

Manuchehr: I said I want

Mehrab eradicated from the earth.

Sam: Your wishes will be carried out, my lord.

Kabol: Mehrab, Sindokht

Mehrab: You said you’d something that you wished to say?

Sindokht: The heavens don’t always turn as we desire.

Mehrab: Of course, of course; have you bad news to tell me?

Is that what talk about the heavens means?

Sindokht: I’d call it unexpected, but not bad.

This visitor, the young prince from Sistan

Whose praises you’ve been singing day and night,

Has set I don’t know what sly snares to catch

The unsuspecting heart of Rudabeh.

She says that she’s in love with him: I’ve talked

To her at length but she’s immovable,

And I can see her feeling’s genuine;

It’s not some silly two day whim of hers.

She’s quite determined that she’ll marry Zal.

Mehrab: So she’s determined, is she? Call her here,

I’ll make a river of her blood for this.

I should have killed the wretch when she was born.

Sindokht: Mehrab, you are my husband, I’m your slave,

But hear me out before you act so rashly.

Mehrab: I could be killed for this, my reputation

Will be destroyed, we’re dead if this goes forward.

Why should you stop me punishing the fool?

Our one hope is to kill her; by killing her

We’ll show we had no part in this disgrace.

If Sam and Manuchehr attack, do you think

My puny forces can oppose their armies?

They’ll torch our town, the smoke will cloud the sun

For weeks on end, and all our flocks and fields,

Our subjects and our wealth, will be wiped out.

And why? Because this little fool’s in love?

Sindokht: Calm yourself, Mehrab. This wild talk is pointless.

Sam knows of this, he has agreed to it,

And he’ll convince King Manuchehr for us.

If Zal’s our son-in-law we’ll be more powerful,

Not less; a stranger welcomed in a family

Can strengthen it; great good can come of this.

Mehrab: Bring Rudabeh to me. Bring her to me.

Sindokht: I will, when you have promised you won’t harm her.

Mehrab: I swear that I won’t harm her. Bring her here.

Sindokht: Give me a moment with her first. And then

I’ll send her in to you. Don’t rage at her;

Speak sensibly; remember that I want

Our family’s success as much as you do.

(a guard enters)

Guard: My lord, an army led by Sam’s approaching,

They’ve overrun our border fortresses

And have refused all our attempts to parley.

From our walls, their dust’s already visible.

The Persian troops are laying waste our land,

Our crops and villages go up in flames,

Our countrymen are slaughtered, and the few

Who have escaped their awful onslaught crowd

Into Kabol as desperate refugees.

Mehrab: Muster our troops.

(guard leaves)

And so great good can come of this, can it?

Don’t talk old wives’ tales to a warrior.

It’s not just her I’ll kill, but you as well,

And in the public square, where everyone

Can witness what I’ve done, and then tell Sam

That I’d no part to play in all this treason.

Sindokht: Listen to me. First hear what I propose,

And then if you still want to kill me, do so.

Sam’s Camp outside Kabol: Chamberlain, Sam

Chamberlain: An envoy from Kabul has come, a woman

Leading an endless caravan of gifts;

I’ve told her you won’t grant her audience,

But she declares she won’t leave till she’s seen you.

Sam: Let her come in. (chamberlain leaves)

I can’t accept the gifts,

King Manuchehr would see it as a weakness.

In any case, Kabul’s wealth will be mine soon

Whether they bring it here to me or not.

(Sindokht enters)

What is your name, and who is it you speak for?

I thank you for the gifts I’m told you’ve brought,

But gifts are not appropriate in war.

Sindokht: You are a great king, all the earth knows this;

Your glory lights up this dark world with goodness,

And all men, everywhere, who are oppressed

Call on the name of Sam to rescue them.

If King Mehrab has sinned his eyelashes

Are wet with his repentant, welling tears.

And if an evil act has been committed

The act is his; the people of Kabul

Are guiltless in this matter; why should they

Suffer because their king has been unwise?

Why should their lives be trampled underfoot,

Their riches plundered, and their city razed?

The people of this country look to you

To save them; we are all - young, old, rich, poor –

The willing subjects of our conqueror, Sam.

Sam: I want your answers, woman, not your speeches.

Why would a woman come here as an envoy?

Are you King Mehrab’s servant, or his wife

Whose daughter my son Zal swears he will marry?

What’s this girl like, this Rudabeh he says

Surpasses every woman in the world?

Sindokht: Greatest of lords, help me preserve my honor.

Sam: Answer my questions.

Sindokht: Swear you won’t harm me.

Sam: Give me your hand. I swear you won’t be harmed.

Now, tell me who you are.

Sindokht: My name’s Sindokht;

I’m Mehrab’s consort, and the mother of

The girl your son’s intent on marrying.

She’s beautiful, and wise, and good. I want

This marriage, and I think that you would too,

If you could see her. But I’m here to ask

That if I’m wrong to hope for this that I,

And only I, be punished for my crime.

The people of Kabul are innocent,

They should not suffer for their sovereign’s guilt.

I didn’t come alone. With your permission,

I’ll ask the person with me to come in.

Sam: Well, she may enter if you wish.

Sindokht: Not “she”.

(Sindokht gestures, and Zal enters).

Zal: May Sam be prudent, happy, wise and just.

Your loyal subjects say that justice is

The inalterable foundation of Sam’s soul,

And I alone it seems am not allowed

To benefit from my kind father’s justice.

You banished me; the simorgh brought me up.

I ate dirt in her nest; you came for me.

Then you dispatched me to Kabul; I went.

Always I’ve lived as you have wished, and done

The things that you have said I had to do.

Is this your justice, then, that you attack

The city where my chosen bride awaits me?

If it will make you happy, kill me now;

But, father, do not talk to me about Kabul.

Sam: Sindokht, take Sam’s pledge back to Rudabeh;

Tell her you know that I will find a way

For her to marry Zal; say that you bring

Good news now to Kabul, and to its king.

Persian Court: Manucher, Zal

Manuchehr: How was your journey, are you rested now?

As Sam’s son you are welcome to our court.

Zal By your grace everything’s been easy for me.

Manuchehr: Not everything I hear. There’s no need, Zal,

For you to stand on ceremony with me.

I’ve read the lengthy letter from your father,

In which he reassures me of his loyalty

And then says that he’s given his consent

To something I’ve expressly countermanded.

Is this you family’s loyalty then? He writes

He’d never let his son become involved

With something that could harm my throne and kingdom,

And he reminds me of the many battles

He’s fought on my behalf. Because he is

Your father, Zal, and wants this strange alliance,

I’ve had astrologers look into it.

But I want you to speak to me, not him:

Give me one reason why I should consent

To something that my mind revolts against.

You show your upbringing in this; Zal, you’re

A wild man and you’re asking for wild things.

Zal: You say I’m wild, my lord, and yes the Simorgh brought me up. The

world I witnessed from her nest was not the human world; those barren

mountain slopes were closer to the stars than to humanity. But I’m a man

now, and I feel man’s nature thrive and grow within me. It’s God who

guides the sun and moon, who burdens trees with fruit, and vines with

grapes. But a single person can produce no offspring. All creatures live in

couples; what’s sweeter in the world than for a hero’s soul to be gladdened

by his children? And when the time comes for a man to die, his life is

renewed in his child; his name remains behind, so that men say, ‘This is

the son of Zal’ and ‘That is the son of Sam’. This is my story, my lord;

this is the rose, the narcissus, the flower at the heart of my tale. I have not

said this lightly, my love is centered on Mehrab’s palace, his land is like

the heavens to me, and my heart is fixed on Sindokht’s daughter.

Manuchehr: A philosopher, I see. But what has love

To do with wisdom? And are you as wise

As all your talk of heaven seems to claim?

My chief priests here will question you: let’s see

If you can think as well as you can speak.

Priest 1: There are twelve splendid cypress trees, each of which has thirty branches.

What does this mean?

Priest 2: There are two fine, swiftly galloping horses, one black as a sea of pitch,

the other white as clear crystal. They struggle and strive, but neither can

overtake the other. What does this mean?

Priest 3: In the mountains I discovered a flourishing city, but people left it,

preferring a thorny waste, where they built houses towering up to the

moon: they forgot the flourishing city and never mentioned it. Then an

earthquake came, and their dwelling-place disappeared, and they longed

for the city they had left. What does this mean?

Priest 4: You see a beautiful meadow filled with green plants and threaded with

streams. A man comes there, holding a huge scythe, and he cuts down the

plants, whether they are fresh or dry, never swerving aside as he does so.

What does this mean?

Zal: First, the twelve tall trees, each of which has thirty branches, are the

twelve months of the year; twelve times the moon is renewed in her place,

like a new king seated on his throne, and each month has thirty days; this

is how time passes. As for the white and black horses striving to overtake

one another, they are night and day that pass over us across the heavens.

The city in the mountains is the eternal world, and the thorny waste is the

fleeting world, which gives us now caresses and riches, and now pain and

suffering. God counts your breaths, and prolongs or breaks off your days;

a wind arises and the earth shakes, and the world is filled with cries and

lamentation. The man with the sharp scythe who cuts down both the fresh

and withered plants, and who listens to no entreaties, is time the reaper,

and we are like the plants who are cut down, grandfather and grandchild

alike, since he looks at neither young nor old but cuts down all in his path.

This is the way of the world, and no man is born from his mother but to

die.

Manuchehr: Although it’s true the life you lived as you

Grew up was not the life that humans lead,

Still, I can see you’re not a reckless fool,

And that you’ve weighed the world’s ways in your mind.

You’ve my consent to marry Rudabeh.

Be careful though; there’s evil in that family;

Mehrab cannot be trusted, and Sindokht’s

Descended from the demon king Zahhak,

Whose evil reign almost destroyed Iran.

Well, what is it?

Chamberlain: The astrologer, my lord . . .

(astrologer enters)

Manuchehr: What do your charts and astrolabes declare?

Astrologer: My calculations show the river here

Will be a mighty current, strong and clear:

The son of Zal and Rudabeh will be

A hero famed for all eternity.

Strength will be his, and swords, and praise,

Battles and banquets will fill all his days,

No eagle will outsoar him, and no lord

Will be his equal; with his glittering sword

He’ll make the air weep, and his food will be

A roasted wild-ass, spitted on a tree:

Prompt in his monarch’s service, prompt to fight,

Persia’s protector and stout-hearted knight.

The Birth of Rostam

Kabol: Ridabeh, Sindokht, Zal

Sindokht: My darling, you must bear this pain you say’s

Unbearable a little more. Your time

Is past, and soon your birth pangs must begin.

Rudabeh: My lips moan day and night; you say my time has come, but I cannot give

birth to the burden within me. My skin feels as though it were stuffed with

stones, or that it contained a mass of iron. (She screams and faints, and

Zal comes running)

Zal: The simorgh raised me with a mother’s love

And gave me feathers which she said that I

Should burn when I required a mother’s help.

(he burns one of the feathers)

Now by your feather’s smoke I conjure you

To keep the sacred promises you made;

Great simorgh, guardian of my childhood, come,

And as a mother ease a mother’s pains;

Save Rudabeh, and give my child to me.

(the simorgh appears)

Simorgh: Why should the lion’s eyes be wet with tears?

Compose your spirits, Zal, and calm your fears –

Your silver cypress-tree will soon give birth

To one whose fame will echo through the earth.

Have Rudabeh drink wine, and this will be

An opiate for her body’s agony.

A sorcerer must wield a glittering knife

For her to bring this lion into life;

You must not watch when the incision’s made,

Or see her belly opened by its blade.

Pound herbs in milk and musk, and when they’re dry

They’ll be the means to heal her body by:

Sew up the wound, and with a nurse’s care

Gently apply the soothing mixture there,

And stroke it with my feather; in a day

Health will return to noble Rudabeh.

3. Rostam and Kavus

Narrator(Rudabeh): And so Rostam was brought into the world

By magic, and his weary mother lived

To be restored to health, and see her son

Grow strong and lusty, lion-like, a hero

Exulting in his youth and massive strength.

Zal: When he’d become a brawny adolescent

Zal had the herdsmen of Sistan drive horses

Before his son, so he could make a choice

Of one of them to bear him into battle,

And Rostam chose a splendid horse, broad chested,

Narrow waisted, black-eyed, with black testicles,

High-stepping, strong, whose massive body glowed

Like saffron petals, mottled red and gold.

Rostam: He named his horse, who’d be his life-long friend,

His comrade in all hardships, Rakhsh.

Sam: Meanwhile, Sam died, and Zal and Rudabeh

Mourned him, and were the rulers of Sistan.

Manuchehr: In Persia too King Manuchehr grew old,

And let the reins of power go slack, and died.

Zal: A flurry of weak kings succeeded him,

While from Turan a mighty army came,

Slashing and burning, led by Afrasyab,

Whose ancestor was Tur, Turan’s first king,

The murderer of the innocent Iraj.

Zal drove their forces back beyond the Oxus

And for a while a kind of peace prevailed.

In this uneasy interim, Kavus,

A proud, impulsive monarch, ruled Iran.

Eblis soon saw that he was ripe for folly.

Persian Court, Garden: Kavus, Zal, Rostam, Tus, Lords

Kavus: At last I meet your son, the famous Rostam;

You and he spend far too long in your Sistan;

I want you here, with me, especially now

That spring’s returned with all its opening blossoms,

Its streams cascading down the mountain sides,

That call us out to drinking parties, banquets,

Musicians, wine, and hunting expeditions.

But these things aren’t your style I hear, Rostam?

Rostam: Your majesty, it’s true, pleasure and wine, Feasting and rest, are no concern of mine –

Hard-pressed in war, or on the battlefield,

With God to aid me, I shall never yield.

I’m your devoted slave, and while I live

The pleasures banquets, sleep, and comfort give

Will not beguile me. Helmets, armor, bows

That I can draw against our country’s foes,

My saddle and my horse, my mace and sword,

These are the life I love, my noble lord.

Kavus: A pretty speech. You’ve brought him up well, Zal, And I can always use brave warriors.

(Enter Chamberlain)

Chamberlain: There’s a musician at your garden gate, My lord; he says he wants to have the honor

Of entertaining you.

Kavus: So let him in,

And bring more wine; let’s hear this stranger sing.

(Eblis enters, disguised as a musician)

Well sit down, let’s hear what you’re made of then.

Eblis: (sings) My country is Mazanderan – may she

Abide forever in prosperity;

Her gardens bloom with roses all year long,

Wild hyacinths, a myriad tulips throng

Her mountain slopes; her climate’s sweet and clear,

Not hot, not cold, but springtime all the year;

Her perfumed air revives the soul – it seems

Rose water rushes in her mountain streams;

In every month wild tulips can be seen

Dotting the hillsides’ and the meadows’ green;

Her serving girls are lovely to behold,

And there’s good hunting there, and wealth, and gold.

Kavus: Very nice. Very nice. We have spent our time feasting, and while a brave

man idles his time away weak enemies grow strong. My throne is greater

than that of Jamshid or Zahhak or Manuchehr, and my justice is greater

than theirs. I should be greater than them in my accomplishments as well;

a king should be ambitious to conquer the world, which I am, and I’ll start

with Mazanderan.

Tus: We are your slaves, and tread the earth at your command. But . . .

Kavus: What “but”, Tus? Tus: My lord, what you command us we will do.

But even Jamshid, with his crown, and seal-ring

By which he’d demons at his beck and call

Never conceived of such an expedition.

And Feraydun, who had more skill in magic

Than any sovereign here before or since,

Would not confront Mazanderan’s sly demons.

Kavus: Tus, you’re a fool. What’s your opinion, Zal?

Zal: May I speak frankly, openly, my lord?

Then I can say your crown is new; as yet

You haven’t known the world’s heat or it’s cold,

It may be you will disregard the advice

My conscience tells me I should give: so be it.

The Caspian’s shores are not where we belong,

Mazanderan is not a place for us.

There is an old rhyme that describes its evil:

“It is a land of demons, wizardry,

Smooth lies, and spells, and secret sorcery”.

If you attack them, you won’t see again

The gold you throw away there, or the men;

No one has conquered them – no, not by stealth,

Or by invasion, or corrupting wealth;

Forget the conquest of Mazanderan,

No king has ever thought of such a plan.

Your chieftains are your subjects, but like you

They are the slaves of God in all they do.

Don’t shed their noble blood, or out of greed

Plant in the ground ambition’s evil seed,

Because it grows into a tree whose roots

And lofty branches nourish loathsome fruits.

Kavus: I don’t need your thoughts on this matter. I have more strength, glory, and wealth than Jamshid or Feraydun, and I have a greater army, and more

courage and treasure, than Manuchehr. Mazanderan will submit to me or I

shall force it to do so. Its people are contemptible in my eyes, sorcerers

and soldiers they are all alike, and you shall hear that the world has been

cleared of them. Stay behind then with your Rostam here and be Persia’s

protector. The world’s creator is my ally, and those demons’ heads are my

prey. If you will not help me in this war, at least don’t tell me to

reconsider my plans.

The Ballad of Rostam’s Seven Trials Kavus attacked Mazanderan And soon enough he faced A horde of demons that left his forces Defeated and disgraced: Kavus sent word to Rostam then, “Show me your prowess and save Your king who magic has blinded, Who lives as a captive slave”. Rostam set out to bring Kavus Back home from Mazanderan, And met seven trials, any of which Would have felled a lesser man. The first night, as he lay down to sleep, A lion leapt at his head, But Rostam’s horse bit clean through her throat And left the lion for dead. When Rostam awoke and saw the corpse He said to Rakhsh, “Well done – But next time wake me too, do you hear?” And his trials had just begun. The next day as he journeyed on The sun climbed high in the sky, And a waterless desert stretched ahead, And Rostam was sure he’d die – His lips were cracked and his tongue swelled black, But a ram came out of the glare And led him to trees and water And Rostam rested there. That night as he slept a dragon came prowling – Rakhsh did as Rostam had said, Instead of attacking the dragon He stamped by Rostam’s head; And Rostam awoke and peered around But the night was dark and deep; He saw nothing, and said to Rakhsh “Be quiet, and go to sleep”.

And again the dragon crept closer, Rakhsh didn’t know what to do – So again he stamped, and again the dragon Vanished like mist from a view. Furious, Rostam turned on Rakhsh, And roared with a terrible roar, “By God, I’ll maim you and leave you here, If you do that once more!” The dragon slunk closer a third time And Rakhsh neighed loudly in fright: Rostam leapt up and saw a black shape Silhouetted against the night. The two of them sprang at the dragon And hacked and bit at its hide, And its poisonous blood spurted out in great gouts As, screaming, it shuddered and died. The fourth trial came in a garden Where Rostam found food and wine Set out as if by a woman waiting For him to sit and dine; So he sat, and at once the woman appeared As beautiful as the spring, And she poured him wine and sweetly said, “Would you like me to sing?” He blessed God when he heard her sing, And with her very next breath She turned into a hideous witch And Rostam stabbed her to death. He reached Mazanderan at last (And this was trial number five) Where there lived a man named Olad Whom Rostam captured alive – Olad was his guide to Arzhang The guard of that fearsome place, A demon who Rostam sent packing to hell With one whistling blow of his mace.

Now only one trial remained, but this Was the one that far surpassed All of the others, the worst of them all, The hardest and the last: His battle against the white demon Fought in the depths of a cave So long and so hard that the terrible rocks Almost became his grave; But Rostam wrestled the demon Until he could whirl him around And stab him deep in his entrails And hurl him dead to the ground. He touched its hacked out liver to The eyes of Kavus and his men - The blood seeped into the sockets And their blind eyes saw again. So Rostam returned his king to his throne, His lesson learned, you’d say; But Kavus was proud and headstrong And wanted his own way. ** Insert: a) Hamaveran

b) Sohrab

Seyavash

Persian Court: Giv, Tus, girl, Kavus)

Giv: I saw her first, she’s mine; let go of her.

Tus: I reached her first, and it was me that pulled her

Out of the thicket she was hiding in.

Giv: But I’d already claimed the slave before then . . .

Kavus: So you two went out hunting near Turan,

And who is this that you’ve brought back for me?

Your cheetahs caught the sun in heaven it seems.

Giv: My lord, I claimed her as my own, but Tus . . .

Tus: I was the first to get to her, she’s mine.

Kavus: But she’s a delicate young doe, and prey

Like this belongs to no one but the best.

Who are you, girl? You seem to be well-born.

Girl: I am a Turkish princess, from the clan

Of Garsivaz, the brother of our king.

Last night my father came home from a feast

Quite drunk, and threatened me, I don’t know why,

He drew his dagger, and thrust it at my face,

I was so terrified I ran away . . .

Your knights discovered me, and brought me here.

Kavus: I thank them for it, but you shouldn’t trust

This lineage you boast of, or your beauty,

To every wind that blows about the earth.

I’ll place you on a throne within my harem,

And you shall be the first of all my women.

Girl: I could not wish for a more splendid state;

In seeing you I recognized my fate.

Giv: Nine months went by, and this young Turkish princess

Gave birth to Seyavash, Kavus’s son,

Who even as a baby seemed a paragon,

A being blessed with an unearthly beauty,

Although the court astrologers declared

His horoscope was dark, and inauspicious:

His young mother did not survive his birth.

Tus: It was the custom for a prince to be

Brought up away from court, in some far land;

The warrior Rostam, who still grieved for Sohrab,

His son whom in his blindness he had killed,

Asked for the privilege to be the man

Who’d raise young Seyavash, and teach him all

The princely arts, the skills of horsemanship,

Of courtly protocol, and wine, and warfare.

Kavus: Kavus agreed to this, and Seyavash

Was raised by Rostam in Sistan to be

A prince who had no peer in all the world.

Seyavash: He was an adolescent now, and longed

To see his father and the Persian court;

Rostam: And Rostam, seeing that his work was done,

Escorted the young prince to King Kavus,

Sudabeh: Whose wife, Queen Sudabeh, caught sight of him,

And felt her heart beat faster, and her flesh

Begin to melt like ice before a fire.

She sent a messenger to Seyavash

Inviting him to meet her in the harem,

Seyavash: But he indignantly refused her offer;

Persian Court: Sudabeh, Kavus

Sudabeh: My lord, this son of yours who’s come to court . . .

Kavus: You like him? Is he better by report

Or face to face? Out with it then, no lies,

D’you think he’s handsome, would you say he’s wise?

Sudabeh: I’ve hardly talked with him, my lord, but you

Are like the sun and moon in all you do,

And after all he is Kavus’s son;

Apart from you he outshines everyone.

He only lacks one thing, I’d say – a bride,

He needs a sweet companion at his side.

There are my daughters, one of them might do,

And there are others in our harem too

Whom he might well prefer, I wouldn’t mind;

And if he looks, who knows who he might find?

But certainly, my lord, you could suggest

That someone from our harem would be best,

Someone we know and trust. If you agree,

Send him round soon, and leave the rest to me.

Kavus: One of your daughters! Wonderful! I’m sure

That there is nothing that could please me more.

I’ll talk to Seyavash now, man to man,

And make him see the wisdom of your plan.

Persian Court: Kavus, Seyavash

Kavus: Blood-ties and love will not stay hidden long;

You’ve sisters in my harem, Sudabeh

Feels all a mother’s doting love for you,

And God’s created you in such a way

That everyone who sees you falls for you;

And why should those who are your closest kin

Not know the sweetness of your company?

Visit my women in the harem now,

Be courteous to them, let them honor you.

Seyavash: My lord, send me to men of proven sense,

To councilors of deep experience,

To those who’ll teach me how to fight, who know

How I should wield a sword, or shoot a bow,

Who know how kings hold court, how courtiers dine,

The rules that govern music, feasts, and wine:

What will I gather from your women’s quarters?

Since when has wisdom lived with wives and daughters?

Kavus: Well done, my boy! It does me good

To hear you talking as a wise man should!

But don’t be so suspicious, drive away

These gloomy thoughts, and trust the words I say.

There’s something else here too, my boy,

I want you to experience the joy

I felt when you were born; you need a son

To keep your name alive when once you’ve gone –

Astrologers have said our family name

Depends upon your son’s immortal fame.

So you must marry, you must choose a bride;

And Sudabeh will help you to decide.

Think of her daughters, they’re all beautiful,

And they’re the right rank, they’d be suitable.

Seyavash: If these are your orders I will do

Whatever seems appropriate to you.

Kavus: Trust Sudabeh, she wants, and knows, what’s best.

Harem: Sudabeh, Seyavash, Women

Sudabeh: Welcome, dear prince, to Sudabeh’s domain,

Here are the splendid rooms in which I reign,

And all these lovely women whom you see

Are mine, they’re all subservient to me.

Look at them now, do any of them please you?

Which would you like to flirt with you, to tease you?

Which would you like to chat with? Her? Or her?

Be honest with me, which do you prefer?

Is it so hard for you to choose just one?

Go closer to them, touch their skin. Go on!

What’s keeping you so coy and silent then?

They all think you’re the handsomest of men,

They’d all be overjoyed to be your choice;

Still not a word? What’s happened to your voice?

(She draws aside the thin veil that has been covering her face)

The moon’s of no account beside the sun,

And now you see the sun. Hurry, choose one

Of these young virgins, and I’ll have her stand

Before you as your servant to command.

But first, swear me an oath you’ll never try

To wriggle out of: King Kavus will die,

And when that happens I want you to be

The kind protector he has been to me;

I stand here now, your servant-girl, I give

My flesh to you, the soul by which I live,

Take from me anything you want, I swear

I won’t attempt to slip free from your snare.

(Sudabeh gestures for the other women to leave; they do so)

Seyavash: Loveliest of women whom the world has seen,

A mother to me, and my honored queen,

Only the king himself is worthy of

Your partnership, and beauty, and your love.

One of your daughters then, if you’d agree,

Would surely be the perfect bride for me.

Sudabeh: You’ll have my daughter, this is what the king

Has set his heart on more than anything -

Two hundred massive elephants will carry

The dowry you’ll receive when you two marry.

But look at me, look long and hard, and say

If you’ve the strength or will to turn away;

Look at my beauty, Seyavash, admit

You want my body, that you lust for it -

And I’m your slave, since I set eyes on you

Longing has darkened everything I do.

In secret then, just once, sweetest of men,

Lie in my arms, and make me young again,

And all the riches that the king has said

Will consecrate our daughter’s marriage bed

Will be as paltry, worthless trinkets to

The endless wealth that I shall heap on you.

But if you scorn my love, if you refuse me,,

If you revile my longing and abuse me,

I will destroy you with the king, he’ll be

Your bitterest and cruelest enemy -

For my sake he’ll despise you, he’ll disown you,

And loathing will drive out the love he’s shown you.

Seyavash: But God forbid my heart should triumph over

My conscience now, and I become your lover –

And how can I forget the loyalty

I owe Kavus, our king, who fathered me?

You are his wife, the shining sun within

His palace walls, how can you think of sin . . .

Sudabeh: I told you my heart’s secrets, and you dare

To preach at me, and laugh at my despair?

On your head be it!

(She screams) Help, help, let go of me . . .

(She tears her dress. Kavus and courtiers come running)

Save me from shame and sin, your majesty!

That wretched prince you heap such praises on,

Him, standing there, your noble heir and son,

Has tried to rape me. Ah, what filth he said

As he seized hold of me! The tears I shed

Maddened him, and he grabbed my dress, and swore

He’d have me there and then; enraged, he tore

The fabric from my breasts – look what he’s done,

Look at the handiwork of your loved son!

Kavus: Clear the room! Well, Seyavash? Explain yourself.

You didn’t do this, I did; I sent you here,

And now I have to bear the consequences.

What happened? Tell the truth now. Just the truth.

Seyavash: I came here as you had commanded me,

And told the queen that, if I were to marry,

I would be honored if her daughter . . .

Sudabeh: That isn’t true. I tried to offer him

One of my daughters as a bride but he

Just laughed, whispering he wanted only me,

Then he embraced me, and when I resisted

He yanked my hair and tore my dress . . .

Kavus: Enough!

I can’t trust either of you. Sudabeh,

Come here.

(He sniffs at her, slowly and elaborately)

Now Seyavash, come here. Stand still.

(He sniffs at Seyavash in the same way)

You’re lying, Sudabeh; it’s obvious

You’re lying. You’re drenched in musk and rose-water;

If he had grabbed you as you say he did,

Their scent would be all over him. It’s not.

There’s not a trace of any smell on him

Except the smell of youth, a young man’s smell.

So you’re a liar.

Sudabeh: It must be Rostam’s magic;

Rostam’s father, Zal, is a magician,

Everyone knows that, Rostam brought your son up,

And he learned magic from them; it’s a spell

That must have purified him of the smell.

Kavus: Kavus: How can you think that I’d believe such nonsense?

Be silent, Sudabeh. The two of you

Will undergo a trial by fire; that way

We’ll all know soon enough who’s innocent

And who is lying.

Sudabeh: And why should I endure this?

Do you think my father will stand idly by

While you declare to all the world that you

Suspect my honour? You scoff at notions of

His magic, but if he can force the flames

To kill me even though I swear I’m guiltless

What will you say then to our orphaned children?

Who will you tell them is their mother’s murderer?

Seyavash: I’ll undergo the trial, and if I die

This will be proof my words here are a lie;

And if I live, it will be plain to you

That my words, and not Sudabeh’s, are true.

God will ensure the truth you seek appears;

Sudabeh need not face the flames she fears.

Giv: Kavus had priests pour thick pitch on a pyre;

Two hundred men dashed out to set the fire

And such black clouds of smoke rose up you’d say

Dark night usurped the brilliance of the day.

Tus: But then quick tongues of flame leaped out, and soon

The plain glowed brighter than the sun at noon.

Giv: Men wept to see the prince, who came alone

On a black horse before his father’s throne;

Seyavash: Gently his father spoke, and in his face

The prince saw conscious shame and deep disgrace,

And he addressed him, “Do not grieve, my lord,

The heavens willed all this, and rest assured

The fire will have no strength to injure me;

My innocence ensures my victory”.

Sudabeh: And as he spoke, he wheeled his horse, and rode

Into the flames.

Kavus: The fire enveloped him

And both his horse and helmet disappeared:

Giv: But then a shout went up, “The young prince lives”,

Kavus: And Seyavash emerged unscathed, as though

He’d ridden through water, and reappeared bone-dry.

Sudabeh: Time passed, and once again Queen Sudabeh

Was able to beguile Kavus’s heart,

Besides which Seyavash, while still insisting

That he was innocent of all her slanders,

Asked that she be forgiven.

Kavus: And so Kavus,

Besotted with his queen, never again

Referred to what had happened in his harem,

And tried to drive out from his head all thoughts

Of which of them was guilty, or of what.

Tus: Then sudden news arrived: a Turkish force

Under the leadership of Garsivaz,

The brother of Turan’s king, Afrasyab,

Had crossed the Oxus, the border with Turan,

And poured down into Persia, plundering all

The border cities and the countryside.

Persian Court: Kavus, Zal, Seyavash, Giv, Tus, others

Kavus: God did not make this Afrasyab of earth,

Air, fire, and water like the rest of us;

How many mealy-mouthed, false promises

Of peace he’s made to me, and then as soon

As he can muster troops they’re all forgotten!

There’s nothing for it then, I’ll have to fight him.

I’ll lead our men, my presence will ensure

The sun of his success is soon eclipsed.

Zal: Your majesty, your army is sufficient

Without your being there. And for the court

To go to war would be a huge expense.

Twice already your eagerness to lead

Our fighting men has meant that enemies

Have captured you, and overrun your kingdom.

Select some warrior worthy of the honor,

And let him field our forces in this war.

Kavus: No, no, who else could do it? I must do it.

I know this Afrasyab; I know his heart.

My boat’s the one that must be built and launched

To cross the ocean of this conflict safely.

Seyavash: Father, let me command the Persian armies

And prosecute this war with Afrasyab.

I feel that in your palace I’ve grown stagnant,

I’m like a pool of standing water here.

Let me expel our enemies from Persia,

Driving them back beyond the River Oxus;

I’ll humble Afrasyab’s head in the dust -

Give me this means to show you what I’m made of.

Kavus: You think you’re really capable of this?

This Afrasyab is not a joke, you know.

Call Rostam here. Our enemies are sly,

And they’re implacable, they won’t back down.

You’re young, you don’t know what deceit is yet,

(Rostam enters)

And they’re past masters at it. Rostam, come forward.

Young Seyavash, my boy, thinks he can lead

Our Persian forces against Afrasyab,

And I’m inclined to let him try, despite

The fact that he’s so inexperienced.

You brought him up; accompany him, advise him,

See that he wins; ensure that Afrasyab

Regrets this war of his, and bring my son

Back to my court victorious and unharmed.

If you go with him I’ll sleep easily.

Rostam: I am your slave, obedient to you,

Whatever you command me, I shall do;

My refuge is Prince Seyavash, and where

His crown is, heaven too, for me, is there.

Giv: Rostam and Seyavash led out their armies,

Confronting Garsivaz before the gates

Of Balkh.

Tus: The fighting lasted for three days,

With fortune favoring first this side then that,

But on the third day Seyavash’s forces

Broke through the Turkish ranks, and took the city.

Seyavash: The prince wrote to his father, King Kavus,

Reporting everything that he’d accomplished.

Kavus: Kavus exulted in his son’s success:

His lengthy letter back to Seyavash

Congratulated him, and counseled caution,

Saying he should remain on Persian soil,

And wait for Afrasyab to cross the Oxus,

Seeking revenge, as he was sure to do;

And that would be the time for Seyavash

To challenge him, and utterly destroy

The glory of King Afrasyab forever.

Camp: Garsivaz, Afrasyab

Garsivaz: I tell you, we’d no chance, it wasn’t warfare it was carnage. For every one

of ours they’d fifty fighters. Three days and nights we fought them, until

our leaders and our horses were all exhausted, but they’d so many men

whenever when one of them grew tired, he just withdrew behind their

lines and slept and ate, and then returned to fight again with all his

strength renewed. But we’d no chance to rest . . .

Afrasyab: What’s all this babble about rest and sleep?

You lost the battle, to a boy, and you lost

My finest fighting men, you fool. But I’m

Not beaten yet; tomorrow I will summon

My chieftains to festivities, I’ll make

The plains of Turan shine with Chinese splendor;

We’ll drink and feast and sing and when they’ve sworn

They’ll be my allies in this war, I’ll cross

The Oxus and I’ll crush this Seyavash.

You’ve tired me out with all your talk of sleep,

It’s me that has to sleep. Get out of here.

(Afrasyab is alone and sleeps; he screams in his sleep and starts up;

Garsivaz runs in to him and takes him in his arms)

Garsivaz: What is it? Tell your brother what has happened.

Afrasyab: Don’t ask me, hold me tightly in your arms,

Stay here a moment, hold me, until I’m

Myself again, and have my wits about me.

Garsivaz: A dream has frightened you, it was a dream,

Say what it was that’s so alarmed your soul.

Afrasyab: May no one ever see such sights again.

I saw a dusty plain, so parched it seemed

That rain had never fallen there, and all the ground

Seethed with a mass of writhing, hissing snakes;

The heavens above were thronged with circling eagles,

And in the centre of that hideous place

My royal tent stood, with my warriors round it.

A dust storm sprang up, and my royal banner

Was whirled away, and then on every side

Blood flowed, converging on my tent, until

It fell, dragged under by the crimson torrent.

And then the storm was horsemen lopping heads,

Persians who mowed my warriors down, and flung

Me from my throne; they sat a young man there,

Who when he saw me gave a thunderous cry,

Raising his massive sword to swing it down

And cleave my captive body in two halves . . .

And as my deathblow fell I screamed and woke.

Garsivaz: Dreams go by opposites, I’d say your dream

Can only mean what all your friends would wish.

Afrasyab: No dream interpreter could ever give

A meaning to this dream that favors me.

At first light, have my nobles come to court.

Turan Court: Afrasyab, Piran, Grasivaz, others

Afrasyab: In all my life, Fate’s given me no more

Than battles, conflict, and unending war:

How many from this noble company

Have been destroyed in war because of me;

How many gardens briars have overgrown,

How many cities I’ve left overthrown,

How many orchards fought through; far and wide

My troops have scarred and scoured the countryside.

And when the king’s unjust, goodness must flee

Hiding itself in stealth and secrecy;

Righteousness flees from crookedness in fear,

On all sides dearth and misery appear.

But tired now of the evil path I trod,

I long to tread the virtuous paths of God;

In place of sorrow, pain and enmity ,

I’ll nourish knowledge, justice, amity;

Through me the world will be at rest - no more

Will death surprise us, and untimely war.

If you agree hostilities should cease

I’ll write to Rostam now, proposing peace;

To Seyavash I’ll send rich tokens of

My hopes for harmony and mutual love.

Piran: Peace is the best course, as I’ve always counseled.

Garsivaz: You are our king; if you decide on peace

Then peace is what your subjects will pursue.

Afrasyab: You have a glib tongue, Garsivaz, and you

Must be the one to take our terms to them.

They beat you back at Balkh by force of arms,

And now you’ll have the chance to beat them back,

To neutralize their power with smiles and words.

Take Seyavash appropriate gifts, treat him

As if he were already king, make sure

Our presents are the best that you can find -

Gold, silver, carpets, horses, silks and slaves.

Then say that we’ve no quarrel with Iran,

That we’re content now with Turan, the land

North of the Oxus, which has been our home

Since Feraydun divided up the world

And Tur, my ancestor, was settled here.

Tell him we should forget these ancient feuds,

The fratricide that started all these wars

When Tur and Salm set on Iraj, and killed him.

Say Seyavash’s fortune, joined with mine,

Can bring peace to a world too long at war;

Then flatter Rostam, he likes flattery,

He feels his service has been disregarded,

And that he merits more praise than he’s given.

Ply him with pretty slaves and horses too,

Now, get the presents ready and be off,

Success in this will cancel out your failure

When you confronted them before, at Balkh.

Garsivaz: Don’t worry; I know how to talk to them;

You’ll get the treaty that you’re hoping for.

Iranian Camp: Rostam, Seyavash, Bahram, Zangeh

Rostam: But I don’t like it, why should they decide

That peace is all they care about, when they

Attacked and looted all our border towns?

What’s made them so high-minded suddenly?

We drove them back, that’s why they’ve changed their minds

And come up with this talk of peace and treaties.

But we can’t trust them, they won’t keep their word;

Seyavash: But what else can we do? I can’t attack,

Kavus forbade it in his letter to me.

And now he’s made these overtures of peace

It’s clear that Afrasyab won’t cross the Oxus;

He doesn’t want to fight, and we must sign

The treaty he proposes, we’ve no choice.

Besides, the terms are all to our advantage,

They’ve said that they’ll evacuate their troops

From everywhere on our side of the river.

We can’t just leave, as if they’d made no offer;

We have to trust them. If we don’t, they’d have

A good excuse to start hostilities

Whenever they felt strong enough to do so,

Then lay the blame on us, by saying they

Had acted in good faith and we’d rebuffed them.

Rostam: “We have to trust them”. Are you mad, my lord?

Forgive my bluntness but these words should not

Be even thought of in conjunction with

King Afrasyab, much less with Garsivaz.

D’you think he doesn’t want revenge on you

For trouncing him before the gates of Balkh?

“Trust him”, you say. I’d sooner trust a jackal.

It’s true that you’re the prince, and my commander,

But I’m here to protect you, to ensure

That no harm comes to you; and trusting these two

Is like inviting them to murder you.

Seyavash: Then we’ll have guarantees. Listen, Afrasyab

Is clannish, all he really cares about

Is that his family flourish, that his kin

Should make a great commotion in the world.

We’ll sign their treaty if they’ll send a hundred

Of Afrasyab’s kin here as hostages.

I’ll guarantee their safety while they’re here,

And they, by being here, will guarantee

That Afrasyab behaves himself. What do you say?

Rostam: That you have found a way to sign the treaty

And hold them to their promises, my lord.

Seyavash: Have Garsivaz brought in.

(Enter Garsivaz)

Garsivaz: You summoned me. I hope you found the terms

That we propose acceptable to you,

And to your noble father, King Kavus.

I hope too that the little gifts I brought

Have not displeased you by their worthlessness.

Seyavash: We thank you for the gifts, which do us honor.

We find the terms acceptable, though we

Should like to add a trivial proviso:

The treaty will be signed if Afrasyab

Agrees to send a hundred of his kin

To me; I’ll entertain them as my guests,

And guarantee their safety while they’re here;

They’ll be as safe with me as when they lived

At home, or at their king’s court, in Turan.

Garsivaz: But Afrasyab relies upon his kindred;

They are his courtiers and his counselors,

Their presence makes him feel his court is his.

This is a heavy burden you’re imposing.

Rostam: These are the terms we have decided on;

If you refuse to honor our demand

It will be hard for us to think that you

Meant all you said when you proposed this treaty.

Garsivaz: I will convey your wishes to the king.

Rostam: It’s not a wish, it’s a demand: if he

Refuses us we will not sign the treaty.

Garsivaz: No doubt he will agree; there is no need,

Rostam, to be so sharp. I hope we’re friends,

Yourself, Prince Seyavash, and Afrasyab,

And I too am your friend now we’re at peace.

Seyavash: I’m sure we share your sentiments. You’ll find

That gifts have been prepared for Afrasyab

And for yourself. Send us the guests we mentioned

And then you’ll see how I shall keep my word.

Garsivaz: None of us doubt that you will keep your word;

With your permission then, I’ll leave, my lord.

(He leaves)

Rostam: I can’t abide the man. Well, you may laugh.

Seyavash: My mother, whom I never knew, was from

His clan, or so I’ve heard. It can’t be easy

To be the envoy of King Afrasyab;

Just as I’m finding out it isn’t easy

To be the eldest son of King Kavus.

Now that the treaty’s terms are all agreed on,

How can we put this business to my father?

Persian Court: Kavus:, Rostam, Giv, Tus

Kavus: He’s young, and he’s seen nothing of the world;

He doesn’t know there’s evil everywhere,

And that the one thing Afrasyab can be

Relied on for, is some new wickedness.

But you, with your experience of his plots,

You, with your knowledge of this ogre’s ways,

Of how I haven’t had a good night’s sleep

Because of his attacks and lies and tricks

For I don’t know how many wretched years,

What were you thinking of ? Where was your good sense?

I should have gone, I longed to fight with him,

But everyone insisted I should stay

And let this silly boy conduct the war.

Why did I listen to such stupid prattle?

And where God’s condign punishment was called for,

You let yourself be dazzled by some trash

He sends you as a gift! What kind of gift?

All looted from my suffering Persian subjects!

Rostam: But the proviso of the hostages . . .

Kavus: What hostages? A hundred sniveling Turks?

A hundred misbegotten Turkish bastards

Who couldn’t tell you who their fathers are?

They’re all to be sent here, to me, in chains,

And when they get here I will hack their heads off.

And as for you, you’ll go back to the Oxus

And you’ll cross it, and you’ll destroy Turan

So that there’s not a building or a grass blade

Left there. These are my orders for you; go!

Rostam: Listen to me, my lord. The world is now

Subservient to you, and you yourself

Advised Prince Seyavash not to advance

Across the Oxus. And, like you, we thought

That Afrasyab would soon attack; instead

He sued for peace and gave us all we wanted.

Your prince fought fearlessly, he won the war,

And he has made an honorable treaty.

The heavens will not look kindly on a man

Who swears an oath and then decides to break it;

You cannot ask your son to break his word.

If Afrasyab breaks his, if he reneges

On all his promises, then that is when

We’ll go to war and utterly destroy him.

I tell you plainly now, Prince Seyavash

Will not go back upon his word, and he’d

Be horrified to know you think he should.

Kavus: And so it all comes out. So it was you

Who put these childish thoughts into his head,

Who tore the need for vengeance from his heart.

What do you care about our crown and throne?

It seems that all you care about is comfort.

Our noble warrior has grown tired of fighting,

It’s all too much for him. “Let’s sign a treaty”,

He says, “that’s easier than all this warfare”.

Well, you’re dismissed. I’ll write to Seyavash

And tell him what to do; we don’t need you.

Rostam: The heavens themselves don’t lord it over me.

If you don’t value all that I have done

I’ll leave, and God have mercy on your son.

Iranian Camp: Seyavash, Zangeh, Bahram

Seyavash: Rostam’s been ignominiously dismissed;

My father’s foolish rage at our agreement

Has driven him from the court; he’s in Sistan now,

And just when I am most in need of him.

You two, my brave commanders in the field,

Bahram and Zangeh, the two of you must be

My Rostam now.

Zangeh: We are your slaves, my lord.

Seyavash: My slaves, my slaves; I don’t need slaves; I need

An honest man who’ll tell me what is true.

Bahram: You do us too much honor, and we’ll give

Our guidance to you, if you ask for it,

As honestly as we are able to.

Seyavash: Rostam’s dismissed, and in his letter here

Kavus, my father and our king, says I’m

To send the Turkish hostages to him,

In chains, and when they reach his court he’ll kill them.

What “guidance” do you have to say to that?

Zangeh: You cannot disobey your king and father.

Seyavash: And what excuse shall I then give to God?

I look, and everywhere I look I see

Only one future lies ahead of me,

And it is evil. I feel the world begin

To loom about me, and to hem me in.

If I make war on Afrasyab, the world,

My men here, you, and God, will all condemn me.

If I refuse to wage this war, and go

Back to Kavus, evil awaits me there;

His court means two things now and only two -

His rage at all I’ve done, and Sudabeh.

Bahram: If you act in accordance with his orders

No one will say that what you did was wrong.

Seyavash: The king’s kind heart was like a leafy tree

Bestowing shade and fruit, but Sudabeh

Turned all its countless blessings into poison.

I chose war as the way to clear my name.

I fought as warriors should, the war I won

I won foursquare, with valor and with honor.

The treaty that I made with Afrasyab

I made with honesty, and in good faith,

And it’s contemptible to break one’s word

Then try to justify it with excuses:

I’ll forfeit this world and the world to come,

My soul will be as Ahriman would wish.

I wish my mother, whom I never saw,

Had never given birth to me, or that

I’d died within the hour that I was born.

How can I break the laws of God and heaven?

My oath’s my oath; I will not be foresworn.

Bahram: You said you sought our guidance, and it’s best

We think this matter over; give it time.

Seyavash: It isn’t time I need, it’s somewhere I

Can hide myself away from King Kavus.

I’ve heard that at the Turkish court Piran,

King Afrasyab’s advisor, has always

Argued for amity between our countries,

And that he’s known for treating Persians well.

Perhaps he could persuade his king to let

Me cross their territories until I find

Some place sufficiently remote, where word

Will never come to me of King Kavus,

And he will never hear of me again.

Bahram: My lord, you cannot mean this. There’s no place

For you in all the world without your father.

Write to him now and ask for Rostam back,

And if he says you have to fight, we’ll fight.

Don’t bandy words with him; apologies

Made to a father never count as shameful.

Seyavash: The king’s commands transcend the sun and moon

But no man can rewrite the laws of God.

I’ll take the hostages, together we

Shall cross the Oxus; they’ll be home again

And they can speak for me and tell Piran

I’ve kept my word, and that they’re all unharmed.

I’ll write now to Kavus, as you suggest,

But not to flatter him or tell him I’ll

Comply with his impossible commands.

I’ll say that you, Bahram, will lead our forces;

And you, Zangeh, will take the letter to him.

And if my orders seem amiss to you

Act as your consciences dictate you should.

Zangeh: My lord, I’ll take the letter, though I fear

The rage with which I know it will be greeted.

Bahram: And I’ll assume command, as you have ordered.

Seyavash: Bring in the hostages, and tell them they

Will soon be home again. Now for the letter.

Garsivaz: The news spread quickly that Prince Seyavash

Together with the Turkish hostages

Had crossed the River Oxus, that he’d come

Not as a warrior, or demanding tribute,

But as a suppliant, seeking sanctuary.

Piran: Piran, who’d always labored to persuade

His king to look with favor on Iran,

Came out to greet him, overjoyed that now,

Perhaps, the opportunity was there

To reconcile these ancient enemies.

Turan soil: Piran and Seyavash meet with hostages

Seyavash: Why did you trouble to come out to greet me?

I’m honored that you think me worthy of

This friendly show of welcome to Turan.

Here are the nobles whom your monarch sent us,

All safe, and glad I think to be at home.

Piran: O Lord of what is hidden, what is plain,

I thank you that I’ve seen this splendid day

When I can welcome Seyavash, whose glory

Astonishes the world. Here in Turan

King Afrasyab will be a father to you,

And everyone throughout Turan will serve you.

Seyavash: Piran, men say that you’re the enemy

Of everything that’s evil, and seeing you

I can believe it. Grant me safe passage then,

And let me cross Turan to unknown lands

Where no one will have news of me, and I

Can live my life out in a welcome darkness.

Piran: Why should you mention traveling? What’s this darkness?

It’s here that you must live, you’ll be our guest,

You’ll be the center of our royal court;

You shouldn’t think that only Persians love you.

Seyavash: I can’t believe Turan should be my home.

Be honest now, should I stay here? Or should

I go on further, to some unknown country?

Piran, I’m only asking for your promise

That I can travel through this land unharmed.

Piran: Forget that you have left Iran; I’m sure

That this is hard, since all men love their homes,

And even we know, by repute at least,

The grandeur and the beauty of your land.

But think of here as home; do us this honor.

Dear prince, you can rely on Afrasyab,

Trust to his kindness and you won’t regret it.

His reputation isn’t good, I know,

But all that’s undeserved. He’s wise and cautious;

He listens to advice and puts his trust

Primarily in me. And I have wealth

Enough to entertain you while you’re here,

All that I have I’ll place at your disposal.

To me you are a trust from God, and I

Shall make it my first business to ensure

That no harm comes to you, here in Turan.

As you have treated your returning guests,

These noble kinsmen of King Afrasyab,

So we shall treat you while you stay with us.

I’ll take you to the court, where you will see

The gentle welcome Afrasyab will give you.

Seyavash: The care and kindness men report of you

Fall short, my lord, of all I see is true.

Turan Court: Afraysab, Piran, Garsivaz;

Afrasyab (to Piran):

Why should I welcome King Kavus’s son?

Are you quite sure that this is not some trick?

Why should I help an enemy? He is

Our enemy, as Garsivaz remembers,

Even if you’ve now fallen for his charm.

Garsivaz: When we met face to face he acted well;

It’s Rostam I don’t trust, not Seyavash,

Although it might be that I was deceived

By his elaborate show of courtesy.

Piran: My lord, in my opinion, anyone

Who has the opportunity to help

This Persian prince should never hesitate

To do the utmost that he can for him.

We’ve all heard of his noble qualities,

But seeing for oneself must always beat

Trusting to wind-blown rumors and to gossip,

And now we’ve proof of his nobility;

Look how he’s acted with our hostages –

Instead of sending them to certain death

He brings them back to us. Consider now,

Kavus is old, he cannot live much longer,

And Seyavash is young, and loved; he’ll be

A glorious monarch when the throne is his.

Treat him with honor and with dignity,

And you’ll be recompensed a hundred times

When Seyavash ascends the Persian throne.

Our countries, that have been at war so long,

Will be united then in peace and trust;

This ancient feud, that’s sapped the livelihood

Of both our lands, will be resolved at last.

Afrasyab: But there’s a proverb that seems apposite:

Bring up a little lion cub, and you

Will be rewarded when his teeth show through;

Forgetting all the kindness he’s been shown

He’ll maul his master when his claws have grown.

Garsivaz: That’s not a trivial concern; who knows

How he might act if he regains his strength?

Piran: Look at this matter wisely; will a man

Display his father’s evil qualities

When he’s opposed those very qualities?

Kavus’s days are numbered; Seyavash

Will reign, and we’ve the opportunity

To treat him well and gain his good opinion.

Afrasyab: I hope you’re right, Piran. Have him come in.

I want you to observe him, Garsivaz.

It’s only sensible to keep an eye

On this young lion-cub, while he’s our guest.

(Seyavash enters)

May God bless your endeavors, Seyavash;

You’re welcome to my country and my court.

I hear that you’ve become a wanderer,

And that you’re searching for a place where you

Need never fear the anger of your father.

Turan will be your home, and all who serve

Me as their king will be your servants too.

Your father’s old; the fires of anger fade

When old age comes to us. He’ll want you back,

And when that happens you’ll be free to leave.

For now, you’ll stay here as our honored guest.

The evil of the world will fall asleep;

The savage leopard and the timid lamb

Will share one watering place, and our two lands

Will prosper, blessed by their mutual trust.

Seyavash: May God preserve your lineage forever;

I thank you for the kindness of your welcome.

Afrasyab: Piran, I think Kavus is growing senile;

He must be sadly wanting in good sense

If he can give up such a noble son.

18.

Garsivaz: Time passed, and slowly Seyavash became

The closest intimate of Afrasyab,

Replacing both Piran and Garsivaz

As the first person Afrasyab would turn to

When he grew weary of the cares of kingship;

And at his royal feasts the Persian prince

Was always seated in the place of honor.

Afrasyab: Gloomy or in good spirits, Afrasyab

Would summon Seyavash to sit with him,

To drink and talk and while away the hours,

And only when Piran or Garsivaz

Insisted that their sovereign had to give

His full attention to affairs of state

Was Seyavash excluded from his rooms.

Piran: Piran was happy to believe this friendship

Would be a harbinger of lasting peace

Between their countries and, continually,

He looked for ways to make their friendship stronger.

Turan Court:Piran:, Seyavash

Piran: You’re now the close companion of our king

As loved by him as pleasure is in spring,

And you’re Kavus’s son - your glory here

Has raised you to the moon’s auspicious sphere.

And this is where you ought to lead your life;

But you’ve no brothers here, no kin, no wife,

You’re like a solitary flower beside

An empty field; you need to choose a bride.

Forget Iran, its sorrows and its wars,

When once Kavus has died Iran is yours.

Here in the royal castle’s women’s quarters

The king has three incomparable daughters,

The finest of them’s Farigis, whose grace

Knows no competitor in any place,

She’s tall and slender as a cypress tree,

Her hair’s a musky crown; you’ll never see

A woman more accomplished or more wise.

If you should wish to gain this noble prize

I’ll be your messenger and go-between

To ask the king if she can be your queen.

Seyavash: If this is heaven’s course, if God wills this,

Then I cannot oppose it. If I am not

To see Kavus, or Zangeh, or Bahram,

Ever again; or the great Rostam who

Cherished me once, and taught me all the arts

Of war and peace, and made me what I am,

Then I must choose a home here in Turan.

Piran: What’s gnawing at your heart, my lord?

You know that you are loved and welcome here,

Seyavash: Piran, I tell you, as the heavens roll

They cast my spirit down and sear my soul,

The wealth with which my treasury is filled,

The goods I’ve sought, the palaces I’ll build,

Will pass into my enemy’s fell hand.

I know that Death will lead me from this land.

I’m not long for this world, and soon, God knows,

I’ll need no palaces or porticoes;

My throne will then be Afrasyab’s, and he,

Though innocent, connives to murder me.

And so the ever-turning skies bestow

Now joy, now sorrow, on the world below.

Piran: But why should you bewilder your sad soul

Like this? Where does this come from? I am here,

And while I’m here no harm can come to you.

Seyavash: My friend, your reputation is unsullied.

But I could tell you secrets that I’ve learned

Before the throne of God himself; my soul

Is privy to the turning of the heavens.

Although I’m innocent of sin, I know

That I’ll be slain, in this land, in Turan;

And then, from end to end, you’ll see our countries

Trampled beneath the hooves of warriors’ horses;

What gaudy banners will usurp the skies,

What streams of blood will glut the sodden earth,

What plumes of smoke will rise from pillaged cities,

What piles of rotting dead will fill the fields,

What wailing there will be, and what despair.

Piran: (to himself)

If this is true, then I’m the foolish cause

Of this horrific evil he foresees.

I brought him here, and I persuaded him

To stay, and trust his life to Afrasyab.

But surely he’s mistaken. Who can know

The secrets of the heavens, as he claims?

Clearly, his mind’s distracted; it’s succumbed

To meaningless and incoherent fears.

Dear friend, believe me, marriage will ensure

Your safety; it’ll put an end to war:

Your fears will all prove groundless; everything

Will make you dearer to our noble king.

Seyavash: What are you waiting for, Piran? Go to Afrasyab,

Arrange the marriage you’ve decided on.

Turan Court: Afrasyab , Piran

Afraysab: What do you want from me, Piran?

I’m in a generous mood, so speak your mind;

My wealth’s at your disposal if you want it.

Piran: I’ve all the wealth and power I need, my lord,

Thanks to your generous kindness in the past.

It’s Seyavash I’ve come to you about.

He sends a message to you, asking whether

You could consider him your son-in-law,

And give him Farigis’s hand in marriage.

Many advantages would certainly . . .

Afrasyab: Don’t push me in this way. We’ve been through this.

He is a noble youth, and you could say

He is my friend, and yes I’m glad of it.

But he’s not one of us, he’s not from here.

I’ll treat him like a brother, but that’s all.

His father’s always been my enemy,

The court that Seyavash was born in hates us,

And Rostam, who was once a father to him,

Loathes me, and everything to do with me.

Why should I pick a snake up by the tail

And wait for it to twist around and bite me?

Why should I plant a tree whose bitter root

Will only serve to nourish poisoned fruit?

Piran: A child of Seyavash and Farigis

Is sure to be a wise, good-natured prince,

And he’ll unite two splendid lineages,

Both going back to Feraydun. And more,

He’ll bring together countries that have fought

Long, bloody wars for countless generations.

Here is a chance to do good in the world,

To be remembered as the architect

Of both our lands’ prosperity and peace.

Afrasyab: You may be right. It’s true, I’m tired of war,

And men call Seyavash a prince of peace.

It’s possible that good might come of this,

That this will strengthen, rather than destroy,

My throne. Tell Seyavash that I agree;

God send you’ve given good advice to me.

21.

Piran: Prince Seyavash and Farigis were married,

Or as the courtiers said, the sun and Venus,

The eye of heaven and the evening star,

Became one light, and filled the heavens with glory.

Farigis: King Afrasyab apportioned them a land

Far to the east, where Seyavash began

To drain the marshes, and build dams and bridges,

So that a city rose above the steppes,

Its turrets sparkling in the morning sun;

Garsivaz: Travelers declared that they had never seen

Such radiant splendor and such regal beauty,

And that the city’s king ruled like an angel,

As if he were a being made of light.

Turan Court: Afrasyab, Garsivaz

Afrasyab: It’s good to see you, Garsivaz; I feel

It’s been too long since we two sat together.

But why so silent? What’s brought on these frowns?

What grim news have you heard, that I don’t know?

Garsivaz: I’ve tried to see things as you say you do.

I’ve tried to trust your son-in-law, to tell

Myself I was imagining what I

Knew in my heart could only have one meaning.

I’ve realized I can’t do this any longer.

Afrasyab: What are you telling me? Speak plainly, man.

Garsivaz: Your Seyavash is not the man he was;

I’ve agents in the city that he’s built,

And I can trust them. They report that he

Drinks King Kavus’s health, that he receives

Not only messengers from King Kavus

But from the kings of China and the West;

On what authority can he do this?

On yours? And I’ve heard more; he’s gathering troops,

A mighty army’s flocking to his banner.

What can he want an army for, if not

To threaten you, Turan, and all of us?

If I had hidden what I know from you

My conscience and the world would both condemn me.

Afrasyab: Affection welling from our common blood

Has made you speak like this to me, I know.

Give me three days. Let me consider it.

I’ll ask Piran what he thinks we should do.

Garsivaz: We cannot wait three days when every day

Troops flock to him. My brother, we must act.

Afrasyab: How you remind me of Pashang, our father!

And who else have I in the world but you?

That dream I had prevented me from fighting,

But no harm’s come to me from him. And now

He’s interwoven all his life with ours;

He’s Farigis’s husband, and my son,

This is a blood alliance that we have.

And I’ve been good to him, so why should he

Change in this way, and disobey my orders?

But if he’s acting as you say he is

I will be forced to send him back to Persia.

He can go home, to King Kavus’s court,

And if it’s sovereignty he’s looking for

Let him attack his father and take his.

Garsivaz: He knows our secrets now. He can’t go back.

He’ll use his knowledge to destroy our country.

He’s wounded you, but if you let him go

You’re rubbing salt into the wounds he’s made.

Afrasyab: He must come here then, and I’ll sound his secrets;

And if I bring disloyalty to light

I’ll harden my forgiving heart against him

And he’ll be punished. No one can then say

That I was wrong; disloyalty to kings

Surely deserves the harshest punishment.

Garsivaz: If he comes here the sun and moon themselves

Will be eclipsed by his magnificence.

You can’t risk this. Your army would change sides,

And you would be a shepherd without sheep.

Afrasyab: I’ll take that risk. I have to see him here.

I’ll have him stand in front of me, and then

I’ll look into his heart. I’m not a fool;

If he’s as devious as you say he is

I’ll see it written plainly on his face.

Garsivaz: Then let me take your summons to his court.

I’ll see if what my men report is true,

It may be they’ve embroidered what they know,

But if I go myself we can be certain;

And you’ll hear what I’ve seen, not what I’ve heard.

Seyavash’s city: Seyavash, Farigis

Seyavash: I cannot understand why Garsivaz

Would send ahead a message saying I

Should not come out to greet him on the road;

It’s contrary to all established custom.

Farigis: He’ll be with us in no time, you can ask him.

Seyavash: It’s not like him to cut short courtesies.

I think that there’s some secret hidden here.

(Garsivaz enters)

You’re welcome Garsivaz, both in yourself

And as the envoy of your glorious king.

Why did you stop me coming out to greet you?

Garsivaz: That’s a small matter we can deal with later.

I’ve urgent business from King Afrasyab.

Farigis: You’re welcome to our city, Garsivaz.

I think this is the first time that you’ve been here?

Garsivaz: It is, my lady, though I’ve heard reports,

As everyone has, of its splendid beauty.

Reports that fall short of the truth, I see.

(to Seyavash)

My business has to be discussed in private.

Seyavash: Leave us, my love.

(she does so)

Tell me this business then.

The letter in your hand, is it from him?

Garsivaz: It is.

(he hands it over)

You’ll find that it’s an invitation

For you and Farigis to visit him

And spend a few months as his royal guests;

He says that there’s good hunting now, and he

Wants you as his companion in the chase.

He says your noble presence brings him luck.

Seyavash: Then we shall go as soon as you and I

Have drunk together in the palace gardens.

We’ll sip our wine beneath the fruit-tree blossoms,

And hear old songs that sing of love and war,

And wash our cares away, as easily

As shaking fruit-tree petals from our hair.

Garsivaz: Would that all troubles that beset us could

Be shaken from our heads so easily.

Seyavash: What is it Garsivaz? Are you unwell?

You’re crying. Those are tears upon your cheek.

Is this a sorrow you can talk about?

Does this mean that you’ve quarreled with the king?

Have someone’s slanders poisoned him against you?

If so, confide in me; I’ll talk to him,

He trusts me, I can intercede for you.

Or has some enemy attacked your lands?

We’ll fight together then, and drive him off.

Garsivaz: No, no, it’s neither of these things, my friend.

It’s something deeper, older; and far harder

To find, to fight against, and to resolve.

My tears are for the past we can’t undo.

Thoughts of our lineage welled up in my heart;

How evil came from Tur, and how Iraj

Was killed by him, and how since that cruel murder

Iran has been like fire, Turan like water.

Thoughts of the slaughter of our peoples through

So many generations filled my mind.

This slaughter is not over yet, my lord.

You trust King Afrasyab, but you don’t know him;

Remember, he is Tur’s direct descendant,

And as they say, His ox is still unskinned;

Who knows what monstrous evils he is planning?

My first concern’s for you, and for your queen.

Since you came here, no-one’s been harmed by you,

Men praise you for your justice and your goodness;

But Ahriman has filled the king’s cold heart

With rancor, and resentment of your fame.

I don’t know what God wills in all of this.

But you know I’m your friend; I wouldn’t want

You, later on, to think I knew of this

And did not warn you of my private fears.

Seyavash: But this is nothing, Garsivaz. The king

Has shown no sign of this supposed resentment.

He’s given me his daughter as my queen,

And made me lord of all his eastern lands.

Wherever truth shines out, lies lose their luster:

I’ll go to Afrasyab, he’ll see my heart,

And I’ll see his; the sun will shine, and all

The darkness you suspect will be dispelled.

Garsivaz: Don’t do this, Seyavash. The king is not

The amiable man whom you remember.

For all your skill and goodness, you’re a man

Who can’t tell specious lies from honesty.

The king has tricked you, blinded you with glory,

And you were foolish to rejoice when he

Made you his son-in-law, and in this way

Divided you from your own clan and country.

Don’t think this family link to him will save you -

He’s murdered his own brother; ties of blood

Won’t stop him killing you when he decides to.

Seyavash: My dreams have told me it will not be long

Before I die, here, in Turan. But I’ve

Done nothing to provoke the king’s dislike;

I’ll go with you, present myself at court,

And see if I can clear my name with him.

Garsivaz: You must stay here, my friend. To go there would

Be walking heedlessly into a fire.

I’ll throw cold water on these royal flames,

And later, when the king is calmer, you

Can reason with him, there’ll be time for that.

For now, send a polite apology

Saying Queen Farigis has been unwell,

That she can’t eat, and isn’t strong enough

To walk, and this is why you haven’t come,

And I’ll confirm your story to the king.

Seyavash: Dear Garsivaz, I put my trust in you;

Speak for me then, and see what you can do.

Go, plead my cause before the king, and seek

For righteousness and justice when you speak.

Turan Court: Afrasyab, Garsivaz

Afrasyab: I can’t believe he acted as you say.

He didn’t come outside the city gates

To welcome you? You went there as my envoy;

This is an insult then to both of us,

And there’s no doubt it was deliberate.

What can this mean? Who does he think he is?

Who put him on that throne he occupies?

Garsivaz: Question my entourage and they’ll confirm

That no one traveled out to welcome us.

Afrasyab: What happened when you got there? Is he coming?

Garsivaz: Contempt is all I had from him, my lord. He didn’t come out to meet me, he wouldn’t listen to what I said, he didn’t read your letter, he kept me standing before his throne; messages were constantly coming to him from Iran, but the gates of his city were closed against me; and troops have joined him from the West and China. If you don’t deal with him, and soon, your fist will close on wind and nothing more; he’ll fight against us and seize Turan, and then Iran. And once he leads his forces to Iran who’ll dare attack him? I’ve told you what I’ve seen, now suffer in the crisis you created. Afrasyab: The lion cub has grown, and shows his claws. Enough. Muster my troops for me, I’ll deal With this young upstart’s insolence myself. ** Seyavash’s city:Seyavash and Farigis asleep, Seyavash starts up Farigis: My lord, what is it? Seyavash, it’s me, Your wife; talk to me, tell me what you’ve seen. Seyavash: My love, my silver cypress tree, I saw An endless river; on its further bank A fringe of fire soared upward to the heavens, And spread into the city that we’ve built, Which gradually began to burn and crumble. The bank was thronged with warriors armed with lances,

And there, between the water and the fire, Stood Afrasyab, who blew upon the flames, And made them flare more wildly than before. (a guard enters) Guard: My lord, look-outs report King Afrasyab Is now approaching with a mighty army. Farigis: I put no trust in dreams, but I put less In Afrasyab and his hare-brained decisions. Don’t trust a single soul here in Turan; Leave here, my lord, go now, immediately, Leave Turan’s borders, go, don’t think of me. But where in all the world will take you in, A wanderer who has renounced his kin? Your only refuge in the world is He Who rules the sun and moon eternally. Seyavash: My visions have been true, my love; it seems Truth is discovered to us in our dreams. We build, and marry, and forget the past, But we’re its slaves, and we must die at last. You’re five months pregnant, and God send you’ll bear A boy, Khosrow, who’ll be my son and heir; Piran will be your refuge now while I Hazard my life in flight, to live or die, And if I die at Afrasyab’s cruel hand My son will one day liberate this land. Harden your heart, your days of joy have gone, Live for the advent of our glorious son. Farigis: May years of pain destroy the scoundrel who Corrupted the king’s heart and slandered you. ** Before Seyavash’s home: Seyavash, his sword drawn, enters to Afrasyab, Garsivaz, Piran and troops Seyavash: So Garsivaz told me the simple truth,

And Afrasyab’s become my enemy. (to Afrasyab) King Afrasyab, my lord and my protector, Why have you come here armed? I am your son Through marriage to your daughter Farigis, Your honored servant and your faithful friend. Garsivaz: So why’s your sword drawn, is this how You greet the king whom you profess to love? Seyavash: But Garsivaz . . . Garsivaz: Enough, defend yourself; Let’s see if you can fight when you’re alone And Rostam isn’t here to win your battles. (a skirmish; Seyavash is momentarily successful then overwhelmed) Piran: The fruit of this can only be more sorrow; Don’t act precipitately now, my lord, Keep him in chains awhile and question him. A wise king will not kill a foreign prince; Think of the righteous anger of his father, Both he and Rostam, who loves Seyavash, Will look for bloody vengeance, and once more Our lands will be involved in endless war. Garsivaz: He’s done enough harm. Must you once again Listen to raw advice from foolish men? Our Western marches and our Chinese borders Are thronged with swordsmen who await his orders. You’ve wounded the snake’s head - now you’re afraid, And want to wrap its body in brocade? Well, spare him if you wish, but I won’t be A part of it, you’ve seen the last of me. Afrasyab: Astrologers have said he’ll be the cause Of hardship both for me and for Turan, But with my own eyes, it is true, I’ve seen No sin in anything this prince has done; And if I spill his blood, a hurricane Of dire revenge will devastate our land. I cannot free him now, he knows too much;

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My freeing him is worse than killing him, And killing him can bring me only sorrow. (Farigis enters) Farigis: My father, will you make a widow of me? Can you not see the misery you’ll cause, To me, and to yourself, and to Turan If you kill Seyavash, your suppliant, My husband, and the father of my child? What has he done, that you should want to kill him? Did he not leave his home, Iran, for you And give you back the kin you had despaired of? Who’s slandered him? Who’s filled your ears with lies? The tree you’re planting will have leaves of blood, Its fruit will be the bitter fruit of vengeance. You’re not out hunting now, and Seyavash Is not some deer your arrows have brought down; He is a prince, and murdering him will bring Revenge down on Turan and Turan’s king. Afrasyab: What do you know of what I mean to do? Hold your tongue, girl. Speak when you’re spoken to. Seyavash: May fortune weave her threads with yours, Piran. I was a willow tree that bent before The wind of your advice, but there’s no blame To be attached to you in all of this. And Garsivaz . . . Garsivaz: Why should we listen to This lying talk of his? Afrasyab: You’re right. Kill him. (Garsivaz cuts Seyavash’s throat) Queen Farigis said that she’d bear a child. I want no shoot from Seyavash’s tree To spring up in Turan. Take her and beat her, Until the brat that’s in her womb aborts. Piran: My lord, the evil you’ve already done In killing Seyavash should be enough For any man. Kill me too if you wish

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But don’t attack your daughter in this way, Which will bring shame on you forever. Let me look after her, my lord, and when Her child is born I’ll bring it to your palace And you can do with it whatever you At that time think is right, for good or evil. Afrasyab: Do as you say; I shouldn’t shed her blood. My heart’s grown sick of blood. Have her well cared for, And see you bring her newborn child to me. Come Garsivaz, we’ll go back to our court. ** Piran: Quickly, Piran conveyed Queen Farigis To his ancestral lands, where she would be Out of her father’s sight, and of his reach, Farigis: Until the son within her royal womb was born, And named, as Seyavash had said, Khosrow. Piran: With what misgivings and anxieties Piran Took the young child to Afrasyab, who now Regretted what he’d done, Afrasyab: and said the boy Could be brought up by shepherds, and live out His life obscurely, unaware of what His birthplace was, or who his parents were. Garsivaz: And from the place where Seyavash’s blood Had sunk into the ground, an evergreen Sprang up, that flourished in December’s snows, And in the blazing heat of summer suns. Beneath its shade men gathered to lament The life and death of noble Seyavash, And in remembering him they blessed his name.

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