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Updated: May 16, 2025
Then Rustem promised to do the desires of Sohrab. And he went before the men of Iran, and when they beheld him yet alive they set up a great shout, but when they saw that his clothes were torn, and that he bare about him the marks of sorrow, they asked of him what was come to pass. Then he told them how he had caused a noble son to perish. And they were grieved for him, and joined in his wailing.
Meantime Sohráb, perceiving the delay In Zind's return, looked round him with dismay; The seat still vacant but the bitter truth, Full soon was known to the distracted youth; Full soon he found that Zinda-ruzm was gone, His day of feasting and of glory done; Speedful towards the fatal spot he ran, Where slept in bloody vest the slaughtered man.
In shining arms, Again Sohráb the glow of battle warms; With scornful smiles, "Another deer!" he cries, "Come to my victor-toils, another prize!"
He might have stayed the blow, But when Sohráb his Father's banners sought; He still denied that here the Champion fought; He spread the ruin, he the secret knew, Hence should his crime receive the vengeance due!" Zúára, frantic, breathed in Rustem's ear, The treachery of the captive Chief, Hujír; Whose headless trunk had weltered on the strand, But prayers and force withheld the lifted hand.
And he questioned of its owner. And Hujir said, "Guraz the lion-hearted is master therein." Then Sohrab, when he could not learn the tent of his father, questioned Hujir concerning Rustem, and he asked yet a third time of the green tent. Yet Hujir ever replied that he knew not the name of its master.
"Who art thou? Come forth into the light that I may behold thy face." But ere he could speak further, Rustem had lifted up his hand and struck him, and laid him dead upon the ground. Now Sohrab, when he saw that Zindeh was gone out, was disquieted, and he asked of his slaves wherefore the hero returned not unto the banquet.
And when a year had thus rolled over her bitterness, the breath departed from out her body, and her spirit went forth after Sohrab her son. One of the most picturesque myths of ancient days is that told by Jacques de Voragine, in his "Legenda Aurea": "The seven sleepers were natives of Ephesus.
Thus Jemshíd fell, and thus must Rustem fall." When the bright dawn proclaimed the rising day, The warriors armed, impatient of delay; But first Sohráb, his proud confederate nigh, Thus wistful spoke, as swelled the boding sigh "Now, mark my great antagonist in arms!
I find in a letter to my father from Arthur Stanley, his father's biographer, and his own Oxford tutor, the following reference to "Matt's" marriage, and to the second series of Poems containing "Sohrab and Rustum" which were published in 1854. "You will have heard," writes Stanley, "of the great success of Matt's poems. He is in good heart about them.
No prompt reply from Persian lip ensued Then rushing on, with demon-strength endued, Sohráb elate his javelin waved around, And hurled the bright pavilion to the ground; With horror Káús feels destruction nigh, And cries: "For Rustem's needful succour fly! This frantic Turk, triumphant on the plain, Withers the souls of all my warrior train."
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