Zahhak

When Zahhak became king over the world, a thousand years piled up on his rule. The whole age turned to serve his will, and this long, dark stretch of time set in. The ways of the wise went into hiding, while the desires of madmen spread freely. Virtue was scorned and sorcery prized; truth hid away as harm ran openly. The hands of demons reached out to do evil, and no one spoke of good except in secret. Two pure women from the house of Jamshid they dragged out, trembling like willow leaves. Both were daughters of Jamshid, crowning glories among all women. One of these veiled ladies was Shahrnaz, the other chaste one named Arnavaz. They carried them off to Zahhak's palace and handed them over to that serpent-shaped king. He raised them in the practice of sorcery, and taught them crookedness and cruelty. He knew nothing but teaching corruption, nothing but killing, plunder, and burning.

It was the rule that every night two young men, whether of humble birth or of a hero's line, were brought by the cook to the king's court, to prepare the king's so-called cure. They were killed and their brains scooped out, and made into food for those serpents. Now there were two men of pure royal stock, two worthy and devout men, one named Armayel of pure faith, the other named Garmayel, a man of foresight. It happened that one day they were together, and talked of all sorts of things, great and small, about the unjust king and his army, and those cruel customs of feeding the serpents. One said, we should take up cooking and find our way into the king's service. And after that, devise some scheme, turning every kind of plan over in our minds, so that perhaps, of the two whose blood they spill, we might manage to save one and set him free. They went and took up cooking, learning the dishes and their measures. The two vigilant hearts secretly took charge of the kitchen of the king of the world. When the time came to spill blood, to snatch away sweet lives, the murderous guards dragged in two captured young men, beating them, they rushed them before the cooks and flung them down to the ground. The cooks' hearts filled with pain, their eyes with tears, their heads with rage. This one looked at that, and that one at this, at the cruel deeds of the king of the earth. Of the two, they killed only one, for they knew no other way. They took the brain of a sheep and mixed it with the brain of that noble man. The other they spared, and told him: take care to keep yourself hidden. See that you never live in a settled town; your share of the world is the plain and the mountain. In place of his head they used that worthless sheep's head as food for the serpents. In this way, each month, thirty young men were granted their lives by those two. When about two hundred men had gathered, so that no one could recognize who was who, the cook gave them some goats and ewes, and sent them off to the open wilderness. The Kurds descend from that stock, whose hearts hold no memory of settled towns. The custom of Zahhak, that perverse-natured man, was such that whenever a whim seized him, he would demand a fighting man and kill him, as if he had risen up against a demon. Wherever there was a renowned, beautiful girl kept veiled at home, without a word of protest, he made her a servant before him, following neither the ways of faith nor of any creed.

When only forty years of his reign remained, see what God had in store for him at the end. One long night in the royal palace, he lay asleep beside Arnavaz. He dreamed that suddenly, from the palace of kings, three warriors appeared. Two were older, one younger between them, tall as cypress trees and bright with royal glory. They came belted and striding like kings, an ox headed mace gripped in their hands. The youngest charged at Zahhak in battle and threw a leash around his neck. He dragged him all the way to Mount Damavand, hauling him along while a crowd ran behind. The tyrant Zahhak writhed in terror; you would say his liver split from fright. In his sleep he let out such a cry that the house of a hundred columns trembled. The sun faced women leapt from their places, startled by the uproar of the famous lord. Arnavaz said to Zahhak: 'My king, what has happened? Tell me in confidence.' 'You were sleeping peacefully in your own house, why then this terror for your very life?' 'The seven regions of the earth obey your command; beasts, birds, and men are bound by your word.' The ruler of the world said to the sun faced women: 'Such a marvel should be kept hidden.' 'For if you hear this dream from me, you will despair of my life.' Arnavaz said to the noble king: 'You must open this secret to us.' 'Perhaps we can find some remedy, for no calamity is without a cure.' The commander brought the secret out of hiding and told them the whole dream, point by point. The famous moon faced one said to him: 'Do not let this pass; seek a way out.' 'The signet of the age is your very throne; the world is bright with your renowned fortune.' 'You hold the world beneath your ring: beasts and men, birds, demons, and fairies.' 'Gather the great men from every land, the astrologers and the sorcerers.' 'Tell the priests everything, from start to finish; investigate and seek out the truth.' 'Find out in whose hands your life lies, whether among men or demons and fairies.' 'Once it is known, then make your plan; do not fear evil blindly, like a suspicious man.' The proud king was pleased by these words, when that silver cypress had cast down her advice. The world was dark as a raven's wing when at once the lamp of dawn rose over the mountain. You would say the sun had spread yellow rubies across the vault of lapis blue. Wherever there was a priest, wise in words, clear hearted and sensible, the commander brought him from his land to his court, and the heartsick man told the dream he had seen. He laid bare his hidden thoughts to them, about good and evil and the turning of fate: 'When will my time come to an end? Who will inherit this crown, throne, and belt?' 'Either this secret must be opened to me, or I must lay down my head in disgrace.' The priests' lips went dry, their cheeks wet with tears, their tongues full of whispered words to one another: 'If we speak the truth of what will be, the struggle is over our own lives, and life is priceless.' 'And if he does not learn what is destined to be, we must give up our lives right now.' Three days passed in this matter, and no one dared to speak openly. On the fourth day the king raged at those priests who read the way of fate: 'Either you must hang, alive, upon the gallows, or you must reveal what is to come.' All the priests bowed their heads down low, hearts full of dread, eyes full of blood. Among those learned and famous men there was one clear sighted and keen of hearing, wise, alert, and shrewd, named Zirak, who among those priests took the lead. His heart tightened, yet he grew fearless, and came forward before Zahhak with an open tongue. He said to him: 'Empty your head of vain fear, for no one was ever born of a mother except to die.' 'There have been many world rulers before you who were worthy of the throne of kings.' 'Each counted much sorrow and joy, then departed and left the world to another.' 'Even if you were a wall of iron, the turning sky would grind you down and you would not remain.' 'After this, someone will hold your throne, and bring your head and fortune down to the dust.' 'His name will be Fereydun; he will be a blessed heaven upon the earth.' 'That commander is not yet born of his mother; the time for questions has not come, so calm your fear.' 'When he is born of his gifted mother, he will grow fruitful like a tree.' 'He will reach manhood and raise his head to the moon, seeking the belt, the crown, the throne, and the diadem.' 'He will grow tall as a lofty cypress, and lift a mace of steel to his shoulder.' 'He will strike your head with the ox headed mace, seize you cruelly, and bind you in disgrace.' The impure Zahhak said to him: 'Why will he bind me? What grudge does he hold against me?' The bold priest replied: 'If you are wise, no one does harm without a reason.' 'His father's life will end by your hand, and from that pain his heart will fill with hatred.' 'There will be a splendid cow that becomes the nurse of that world seeker.' 'That cow too will perish by your hand, and for this revenge he will raise the ox headed mace.' When Zahhak heard this, he opened his ears wide, then fell from his throne and lost his senses. The noble priest turned his face away from the high throne, in fear of coming harm. When the famous king's heart returned to its place, he set foot again upon the royal throne. He began to search for signs of Fereydun throughout the world, openly and in secret. He had no rest, no sleep, no food; the bright day turned dark blue before his eyes.

As those long days dragged on, the serpent-shouldered Zahhak found his world closing in around him. Blessed Fereydun was born from his mother, and the world took on a whole new character. He grew tall like a slender cypress, and the royal glory of kings shone from him. This seeker of the world carried Jamshid's splendor; he was like the blazing sun. To the world he was as vital as rain in season, to the soul as fitting as knowledge itself. The turning heavens revolved above him, made gentle and loving toward Fereydun. There was that cow named Barmayeh, held above all other cattle in rank. She had come from her mother like a male peacock, each hair a fresh and different color. The wise gathered around her, astrologers and priests alike, for no one in the world had seen such a cow, nor heard of one from the oldest experts. Zahhak had filled the earth with talk of the child, searching the whole world for him. Fereydun, whose father was Abtin, and for Abtin the world had grown too tight. Fleeing and weary of his own life, he suddenly fell into the lion's jaws. A group of those impure guards happened one day to catch him. They seized him and dragged him off bound like a cheetah, and Zahhak brought his days to an end. When Fereydun's wise mother saw what had befallen her husband, her name was Faranak, and she was blessed, her heart brimming with love for Fereydun. Her heart scorched, wounded by fate, she ran hurrying toward that meadow, where the famed cow Barmayeh was, her body adorned with fitting ornament. Before the keeper of that meadow she cried out, weeping tears of blood. She told him: keep this nursing child safe from me for a while. Take him from his mother as a father would, and nurse him on the milk of this fine cow. And if you ask a price, my very soul is yours; I will pledge my life to whatever you wish. The servant of the woodland and the wondrous cow gave this answer to that pure-minded woman: I will stand before your son like a slave; I will obey your every counsel. For three years he gave him that cow's milk, alert, watchful, and faithful to his trust.

Zahhak was not satisfied by all his searching, and the whole world was buzzing with talk of the cow. Running, the mother came to the meadow and said to the man who guarded it: A divine thought has come into my heart, arriving by the path of wisdom. I must act, for there is no other way: my child and my sweet soul are one and the same. I will pull up my roots from this land of sorcerers and travel to the border of India. I will vanish from among the people and carry this beautiful boy to Mount Alborz. Swift as a courier, she carried the child, like a bird, up to that high mountain peak. On that mountain lived a devout man, free of the world's cares. Faranak said to him: 'Pure of faith, I am a grieving woman from the land of Iran.' 'Know this: my precious son is destined to become the leader of all.' 'You must be his guardian, trembling for his life like a father.' The good man took in her child and never let a cold wind touch him. Word reached the wretched Zahhak about the cow Barmayeh and the meadow. Filled with hatred, he came like a raging elephant and struck the cow Barmayeh down. Every animal he found there he slaughtered, and he emptied the place of them all. Quickly he rushed toward Fereydun's home, searched thoroughly, but found no one. He set fire to his hall and brought the lofty palace crashing down.

When Fereydun had passed twice eight years, he came down from Mount Alborz to the plain. He came to his mother and asked: reveal to me what has been kept hidden. Tell me, who was my father? Who am I? From what seed, from what lineage? What should I say I am when I stand among people? Give me a wise account to hold. Faranak said to him: brave seeker, I will tell you everything you have asked. Know that from the land of Iran there was a man whose name was Abtin. He came from the royal line, alert of mind, wise, valiant, and harming no one. His ancestry traced back to brave Tahmuras, father after father, all remembered. He was your father and a good husband to me; without him no day of mine was bright. It happened that Zahhak, worshipper of sorcery, reached out from Iran to take your life. I kept you hidden from him; how many bitter days I spent that way. Your father, that noble young man, gave up his bright soul as a sacrifice for you. On the shoulders of Zahhak the sorcerer two serpents grew, and they brought ruin upon Iran. They emptied your father's skull of its brains and made it food for those serpents. At last I fled toward a forest, a place no one would think to search. There I saw a cow as lovely as bright spring, its whole body a wonder of color and pattern. Its keeper sat in the forest, arms folded at his side, dignified as a king. I gave you to his care for a long time, and he raised you tenderly at his side. From the milk of that peacock-hued cow you grew strong, bold as a fierce leopard. In the end, word of that cow and that meadow reached the king, detail by detail. I snatched you away from the forest suddenly, a fugitive from palace, home, and family. He came and killed that precious one, the gentle, voiceless nurse. And from our palace right up to the sun's dust he raised destruction, and turned that height into a pit. When Fereydun heard this, he listened closely, and his mother's words set him boiling. His heart filled with pain, his head with vengeance, and rage drew a frown into his brow. He answered his mother: the lion does not grow brave except through the test of battle. Now that the sorcery-worshipper has done what he has done, I must set my hand to the sword. By the command of pure God I will march and grind Zahhak's palace to dust. His mother said to him: this is not wisdom; you cannot stand against the whole world. The world-ruler Zahhak, with crown and throne, has an army girded to obey his word. When he wants a hundred thousand from every land, they buckle their belts and go to war for him. The way of loyalty and revenge is more than this; do not look at the world with the eyes of youth. For anyone who has tasted the wine of youth sees no one in the world but himself. In that drunkenness he throws his life to the wind; may your days be nothing but happy and bright.

Day and night, Zahhak could not stop his lips from speaking Fereydun's name. High as he stood, he feared the fall; his heart was full of dread of Fereydun. One day it happened that he sat on his ivory throne, a turquoise crown upon his head. He summoned the nobles from every land to shore up his kingship. Then he spoke to the priests: You wise and noble men of great skill, I have a hidden enemy, and this is plain to all the wise. Young in years but great in knowledge, of ill lineage, bold and fierce. Though he is young, you upright men, the priest has a saying about such matters: Even if an enemy is small and lowly, you must not trample him underfoot. I do not treat this enemy as small; I fear what evil times may bring. I need a larger army, made of men and of demons and fairies. I want to raise an army, mixing demons together with men. You must agree with this, for I have no patience left in this matter. Now a document must be written, stating that the king has sown nothing but the seed of goodness. That he speaks nothing but the truth and seeks no wrong in justice. In fear of the king, all the upright men agreed to that scheme. On that document of the tyrant dragon, young and old set down their witness. Just then, from the door of the king, rose the cry of one seeking justice. They called the wronged man before him and seated him among the notables. With a grim face the king asked him: Tell me, from whom have you suffered wrong? He cried out and struck his head at the king: My lord, I am Kaveh, come to seek justice. I am a harmless blacksmith, yet fire rains down on my head from the king. You are the king, or perhaps a dragon in form; there must be judgment in this case. If all seven lands are yours to rule, why must all the pain and hardship fall on us? You must give me an accounting, so the whole world stands amazed. Perhaps your reckoning will make it clear why my turn in this world has come at last. For the brains of my children must be fed to your serpents, taken from every gathering. The king considered his words, and was astonished at what he had heard. They gave him back his son and kindly sought to soothe his bond. Then the king ordered Kaveh to be a witness on that document. When Kaveh had read the whole document through, he turned at once toward the elders of the land. He shouted: You accomplices of the demon, your hearts cut off from fear of the world's Lord, you have all turned your faces toward hell and surrendered your hearts to his words. I will not be a witness on this document, nor will I ever fear the king. He cried out and sprang up trembling, tore the document apart and trod it underfoot. With his precious son before him, he stormed out of the palace into the street. The nobles blessed the king: O renowned ruler of the earth, let no cold wind from the wheel of heaven dare to pass over your head on the day of battle. Why should this reckless-tongued Kaveh, before you, act as if he were your equal, tear up our whole document and your covenant, and defy your command? The renowned king quickly answered: You must hear a strange thing from me. When Kaveh appeared from the doorway and my two ears caught his voice, it was as if a mountain of iron had risen between me and him across the hall. I do not know what may come of this, for no one has ever known the secret of the heavens. When Kaveh left the king's court, the marketplace gathered around him. He kept crying out and calling for justice, summoning the whole world toward what is right. The leather apron that blacksmiths tie over their legs while striking with the hammer, Kaveh raised it high upon a spear, and at once dust rose up from the market. Shouting, he marched on, spear in hand: O renowned men who worship God, anyone who longs for Fereydun, let him free his heart from Zahhak's chains. Rise up, for this chief is a demon, an enemy in his heart to the Creator of the world. By that worthless, unworthy hide, friend was told apart from foe. The brave man marched ahead, and a great crowd, no small one, gathered around him. He himself knew where Fereydun was, so he lowered his head and went straight there. He came to the court of the new leader; when they saw him there, a great cry went up. When the king saw that hide upon the spear, he read it as a good and lucky omen. He adorned it with Roman silk, its face and border set with jewels and gold. He raised it high above his head like a shining moon; the king had cast a fortunate omen. He hung from it red, yellow, and violet cloth, and named it the Kaviani banner. After that, whoever took the throne and set the crown of kingship on his head would hang new jewels, one after another, upon that worthless blacksmith's hide. With precious silk and fine brocade, the Kaviani star became so bright that in the dark night it was a sun, and the world's heart was full of hope through it. The world turned on this way for some time, keeping what was to come still hidden. When Fereydun saw the world in that state, and the world under Zahhak turned upside down, he came to his mother, his belt fastened and the royal crown upon his head. He said: I am setting off to war; let nothing be left for you to do but pray. In this world, worship the Creator; know that all the strength of your hand comes from Him for good. Tears poured from his mother's lashes; with a heart full of blood she called on her Judge. She said to God: I place my trust in you; I hand him over to you, O Lord of the world. Turn eternal evil away from his life; clear the world of the foolish. Fereydun swiftly made ready to leave, keeping his plans hidden from everyone. He had two brothers, two noble peers, both freeborn and older than he. One of them was named Kianush, the other Parmayeh, content of heart. Fereydun spoke out to them: Live happy and glad, brave men, for the heavens turn toward nothing but good, and the crown of greatness will return to us. Bring me skilled blacksmiths; I command that a heavy mace be made. As soon as he spoke, they both hurried off and rushed to the blacksmiths' market. Everyone in that trade who sought renown turned their faces toward Fereydun. The world-seeker quickly took up a compass and showed them the design of the mace. He drew a figure in the dust before them, shaped just like the head of a buffalo. The blacksmiths set to work on it, until the heavy mace was finished. They brought the mace before the world-seeker, blazing bright like the towering sun. He was pleased with the steelworkers' craft, and gave them robes, silver, and gold. He gave them much bright hope and many promises of greatness, that if he laid the dragon beneath the earth, he would wash the dust of hardship clean from their heads.

Fereydun lifted his head to the sun and tightened his belt to avenge his father. He set out cheerfully on the day of Khordad, under a lucky star and a world-brightening omen. An army gathered at his court, and the top of his throne rose into the clouds. On wagon-pulling elephants and on buffalo, they carried the troops' provisions ahead. Kianush and Parmayeh stood at the king's side, wishing their younger brother well. He moved from stage to stage like the wind, his head full of vengeance, his heart full of justice. He turned his face toward the Arvand River, as befits a man who seeks a crown. If you don't know the language of heroes, then in Arabic call the Arvand the Tigris. The next halt of that noble, freeborn king was on the bank of the Tigris, by the city of Baghdad.

When he reached the banks of the Arvand River, he sent his greeting to the river guards. The victorious king said to the guard: launch a boat onto the water right now. Carry me and my army across to that side, and let none of these people stay behind. Get me across the face of the water, quickly, with boats and rafts. The river guard brought no boat, and did not come down to hear what Fereydoun said. He answered like this: the king of the world spoke to me secretly and said: Do not let even a gnat cross until you first obtain a pass and a valid seal. When Fereydoun heard this he grew furious, and had no fear of that deep water. Right then he tightened his royal belt and mounted his swift steed. His head burned for vengeance and battle; he drove his rose colored horse into the water. His companions all fastened their belts and likewise turned toward the water. On those wind swift horses, with praise, they plunged their saddles deep into the flood. The vengeance seekers reached dry land and set their faces toward Jerusalem, which in the tongue of the mighty was called Kang, the ill natured fortress. In Arabic now know it as the Holy House; know it as the palace Zahhak raised. When from the plain they drew near the city, they came seeking their share of that city. From a mile away Fereydoun looked out and saw a palace in that royal city, shining like Jupiter in the sky, a place of nothing but joy and peace and love. Its hall rose higher than Saturn, so tall you would say it meant to touch the stars. He knew this was the dragon's house, a place of grandeur and of splendor. He said to his companions: one who can raise such a lofty height on dark earth from a pit, I fear he may hold some hidden secret with which he controls the world. We must hurry into this narrow place; delay is folly on this day. He spoke, and reached for his heavy mace, and gave the rein to his swift horse. You would think he was a burning fire that flared up before the palace guard. He lifted the heavy mace from the front of his saddle; you would say he was folding up the earth. None of the guards was left standing at the gate; Fereydoun called on the Creator of the world. On horseback he rode into the great palace, that mighty youth who had not yet conquered the world.

The talisman Zahhak had raised, whose top reached high into the sky, Fereydun brought it crashing down, for he knew it stood for something other than God, the world's true lord. And as for the sorcerers within that palace, they were all notorious, fierce demons. He crushed their heads with his heavy mace and took his seat on the throne of that idol worshipper. He set his foot upon Zahhak's throne, claimed the royal crown, and took his place. He brought out from Zahhak's harem those idol beauties with dark hair and faces bright as the sun. First he ordered their heads washed clean, and washed their souls of all that darkness. He showed them the way of the pure Judge, and cleansed them of their defilement. For they had been raised among idol worshippers, and were dazed and reeling like drunkards. Then those daughters of Jamshid, lord of the world, wept, giving dew from their narcissus eyes to the roses of their cheeks. They spoke to Fereydun: May you live as long as the ancient world endures. What was the star that made you, fortunate one? What fruit are you, and from the branch of which tree? That you came to the lion's very pillow, a brave man striding in against the tyrant. How much the world turned to evil for us through the deeds of this witless sorcerer. We never saw anyone with such courage, or with skill enough to reach this height, Who would even dream of his throne, or set his heart on his high seat. Fereydun answered them: No throne stays with anyone forever, nor does good fortune. I am the son of that fortunate Abtin, whom Zahhak seized in the land of Iran. He killed him cruelly, and I, seeking vengeance, have turned my face toward Zahhak's throne. There was also the noble cow Barmayeh, my nurse, whose splendid body adorned the earth like a jewel. See what came upon that man of foul mind from spilling the blood of such a voiceless, dumb creature. So I have girded my belt as a warrior, and turned from Iran toward vengeance. With this ox-headed mace I will smash his skull; I will show neither pity nor mercy. When Arnavaz heard these words from him, the secret of her pure heart opened to him. She said to him: You are King Fereydun, who will destroy this sorcery and enchantment. Zahhak's life is now in your hand; the world's deliverance rests upon your girded belt. We two, pure and hidden daughters of the royal line, became tamed to him only out of fear of death. He calls us the mates of a serpent, his wives. How could one endure it, O king? Fereydun answered back: If the wheel of heaven grants me justice from on high, I will cut the dragon's trail from the earth, and wash the world clean of the unclean. Now you must tell me truly where that worthless, dragon-natured one is. The lovely ones revealed the secret to him, hoping the dragon's head might be cut off with the blade. They said: He has gone to India to shackle the sorcerers there. He cuts off the heads of a thousand innocents; he has grown terrified of an evil turn of fate. For a seer once told him: The earth will be emptied of you. Someone will come to seize your throne, and see how your fortune will wither away. His heart is aflame from that prophecy; all of life has turned bitter for him. He spills the blood of beasts, wild animals, men, and women, and pours it into a single pool, Hoping that by washing his head and body in blood he might overturn the astrologers' prophecy. And also, because of those serpents on his two shoulders, he has long been left in strange, prolonged torment. He goes from this land to another, never resting from the pain of the two black serpents. Now the time of his return has come, for he cannot stay too long in any one place. So that heart-wounded beauty revealed the secret, while the proud hero listened closely.

When the land was emptied of Zahhak, there was a man of substance, like a faithful servant. He kept the treasury, the throne, and the palace, wonderfully devoted as a steward. They called him Kondrow by name; he moved cautiously before the tyrant. Kondrow came running into the palace and saw a new crowned king in the hall. Seated calmly in the place of honor, tall as a cypress with a moon at his side. On one hand the graceful cypress Shahrnaz, on the other the moon-faced Arnavaz. The whole city was filled with his army, warriors standing in ranks at his door. He was not bewildered, nor did he ask what was going on; he went praising and bowed low before him. He blessed him, saying: 'O king, may you live as long as time itself lasts.' 'Blessed is your seat, crowned with glory, for you are worthy of the kingship of kings.' 'May the world of seven realms be your servant, and your head rise higher than the raining clouds.' Fereydun ordered him to come forward and revealed to him all his secret openly. The valiant king commanded him: 'Go and find the trappings fit for a royal throne.' 'Bring wine and call the musicians; fill the cups and set out the feast.' 'Whoever is worthy of my delight, and whose learning eases my heart,' 'bring them and gather them at my throne, as befits my fortune.' When the steward heard these words from him, he did exactly what he was told. He brought clear wine and musicians, and the noble lords worthy of the gathering. Fereydun cast off sorrow and chose joy; that night he held a feast as was fitting. When the world had grown calm, Kondrow slipped away from before the new lord. He mounted a swift steed that knew the road and set his face toward King Zahhak. When he reached the commander, he told him everything he had seen and heard. He said: 'O king of the proud, the signs show your fortune has turned.' 'Three noble men with an army have come from another land.' 'Of the three, the youngest stands in the middle, tall as a cypress, with the face of the royal line.' 'Though youngest in years, his greatness is the most; he steps ahead of those elder ones.' 'He carries a mace like a boulder torn from a mountain, and it flashes in the midst of the crowd.' 'He rode on horseback into the king's hall, with two noble men beside him on the road.' 'He came and sat on the royal throne, and brought down all your bonds and sorcery.' 'Everyone who was in your hall, whether your men or your demons,' 'he cut them all down, head from foot, and mixed their brains with their blood.' Zahhak said to him: 'That may well be; he is a guest, so one should be glad.' The servant answered him: 'A guest with an ox-headed mace,' 'who by force sits in your seat and wipes your name from the crown and belt,' 'this ingrate imposes his own ways: if you call such a man a guest, then call him so.' Zahhak said to him: 'Do not complain so much; a bold guest is a better omen.' Kondrow answered him: 'Yes, I have heard that; now you hear my answer.' 'If this famous man is your guest, what business has he in your private chambers,' 'that he sits with the daughters of Jamshid the world-ruler and makes decisions great and small?' 'With one hand he holds Shahrnaz's cheek, with the other the ruby lips of Arnavaz.' 'And the dark night he makes better still for himself, laying musk beneath his head for a pillow,' 'the musk-scented tresses of your two moons, who were always your heart's desire.' 'When he is half-drunk he takes them in his arms; no guest should be handled like this.' Zahhak flew into a rage like a rhinoceros; hearing that talk, he wished for death. With foul curses and a harsh voice, in his wretched fortune he was strangely enraged. He said to him: 'From now on you shall never be the keeper of my house.' The servant answered him: 'This is my belief, O king:' 'that you will never again have a share of that fortune, so how can you give me the stewardship of the city?' 'When you have no share of the seat of majesty, how can you grant me the running of affairs?' 'Why do you not set your own affairs in order, since this trouble has never come upon you before?' 'You have slipped from the crown of greatness like a hair drawn from dough; find a remedy, my lord.' 'The enemy has come and sat upon your seat, an ox-shaped mace in his hand.' 'He has stripped all your bonds and sorcery of their power, seized your beloved, and taken your throne.'

When world-ruling Zahhak heard that talk, his blood boiled and he set out at once. When night drew its compass around the day, and dropped a dark bead over the shining sun, he ordered saddles set on the swift, keen-eyed horses that ride the wind. He came roaring with a heavy army, all fierce demons, hardened warriors. By a hidden path he seized the palace roof and gate, bent wholly on revenge. When Fereydun's soldiers learned of it, they all rushed toward that back way. They leaped down from their battle horses and clashed in that narrow place. The roofs and doorways were crowded with the townsfolk, everyone who had any skill in war. They all stood for Fereydun, for they were sick to their hearts with Zahhak's cruelty. From the walls came bricks, from the roofs came stones; in the streets flew swords and arrows and darts. They rained down like hail from a black cloud, until there was no bare patch of ground left underfoot. Everyone in the city who was young, and the old men wise in the ways of war, went over to Fereydun's forces and broke free of Zahhak's spell. A cry rose up from the fire temple: if the one on the throne is a beast, shall we, old and young, all obey him and follow his every word? We do not want Zahhak on the throne, that filthy man with serpents on his shoulders. Army and city, solid as a mountain, the whole crowd joined the fight. From that bright city a dark dust rose, until the sun itself turned the color of lapis. Then Zahhak, looking for a way out, left his troops and headed for the palace. He wrapped his whole body in iron so that no one in the crowd would know him. With a sixty-loop lasso in his grip, he climbed up onto the high palace roof. There he saw dark-eyed Shahrnaz, full of enchantment, whispering secrets with Fereydun. Her two cheeks like day, her two locks like night, her lips parted, cursing Zahhak. The fire of jealousy blazed in his brain, and he flung the lasso straight down into the hall. Forgetting the throne and even his precious life, he came down from the high palace roof. In his hand was a gleaming dagger, thirsty for the blood of those fairy-faced women. The moment his feet touched the ground below, Fereydun rushed at him like the wind. He reached for the ox-headed mace and struck his head, and the helmet shattered to pieces. The blessed angel Sorush came rushing in and said, 'Do not strike him, his hour has not yet come.' 'Since he is broken, bind him fast like stone; carry him off until two mountains close in on you.' 'It is better that his prison be inside a mountain, where none of his kin and allies can reach him.' When Fereydun heard this, he wasted no time; he fashioned a lasso out of lion hide. Swiftly he bound his two hands and his waist, so tight that a raging elephant could not break it. He sat upon Zahhak's golden throne and swept away his foul customs. He ordered a proclamation cried at the gate: everyone who has a clear mind, you should not stay armed for war; no one earns honor or shame this way. A soldier and a craftsman should not each try to master both skills at once. One works a trade, one wields the mace; the proper task for each is plain. When this one seeks that one's work and that one this, the whole earth falls into chaos. The one who was unclean is now in chains; the world had reason to dread his deeds. May you live long and be happy; go back in peace to your own work. They all listened to the words of the king, that man of restraint and power. After that all the notables of the city, everyone who had a share of crown and treasure, came with joy and gifts, their hearts wholly set on his command. Wise Fereydun welcomed them and gave each a station fitting his rank. He gave them counsel and blessed them, and remembered the Creator of the world. He said, 'This is my rightful place; under a lucky star your land is bright.' 'For the pure God raised me up from among the people, from Mount Alborz,' 'so that the world might be freed from the evil dragon by the command of my mace.' 'Since the Giver of good has shown his mercy, we must walk his road with goodness.' 'I am the master of the whole world; I cannot sit still in one single place.' 'Otherwise I would have stayed here and spent many days with you.' The great men kissed the ground before him, and from the gate rose the sound of drums. One after another the army marched out of the city, having taken nothing from it. They carried Zahhak off, bound and wretched, thrown miserably across the back of a camel. They drove him on like this toward Shirkhan; when you hear such things, call the world old. How many an age has passed over mountain and plain, and many more still will pass. Bound tight in this way, Zahhak was carried toward Shirkhan by the man of waking fortune. He was driving him on into the mountains, meaning to strike his head down. Just then the blessed Sorush came again and gently whispered a secret in his ear: 'Carry this prisoner all the way to Mount Damavand, riding hard, without a following.' 'Take with you only one who will not forsake you, who in hard times will hold you close.' He brought Zahhak along swift as a courier and chained him upon Mount Damavand. He chose a cramped spot for him inside the mountain and found a cave whose depths were unseen. He brought heavy spikes and drove them where they would not touch his brain. He fastened his hands to that mountain wall, so he would remain in agony a long time. He hung him there in that way, his heart's blood spilling down onto the ground. So the name of Zahhak became like dust, and the world was cleansed of all his evil. He was cut off from his kin and allies, and stayed there like that, in his chains.