Khusrau commanded that Luhrásp should come,
And said to him: “My day hath passed. Go thou,
Maintain the usage of the royal throne,
And in the world sow but the seed of good.
Whenever thou hast any times of ease
Boast not about thy treasures and thy crown;
Know this that when thy day of darkness cometh
The way before thee is the way to God.
Seek after and perform whate'er is just,
And hold the persons of the great in honour.”

Luhrásp alighted quickly from his steed,
And kissed the ground with signs of sore distress.
Khusrau said: “Fare thee well and be thyself
The warp and woof of justice.”

From Írán

Went chieftains with the Sháh, great, shrewd, and
valiant,
As Zál and Rustam, as Gúdarz and Gív,
The brave Bízhan and gallant Gustaham;
The seventh was Faríburz, son of Káús,
The eighth famed Tús. The host marched troop on
troop
Till from the waste they reached a mountain-top,
And tarried there a sennight to draw breath
And wet their lips, exclaiming at the Sháh,
And labour which they could not understand,
While every archimage said privily:—
“None in the world e'er told of such a case!”
Whenas the sun arose above the hills
A multitude collected from all parts,
And five score thousand of the Íránians,
Both men and women, went before the Sháh
In grief; the mount was full of wails and cries,
And e'en the flints were moved. The people all
Said to Khusrau: “O Sháh! what aileth thee
That thy shrewd heart is seared and full of smoke?
If thou hast taken umbrage at the host,
Or holdest this crown worthless, tell us so,
Quit not Írán nor give this ancient world
A youthful Sháh. We are thy horse's dust,
And worship thine Ázargashasp. Oh! whither
Are all thy knowledge, rede, and senses fled?
Surúsh came never thus to Siyáwush!
We all will offer up our prayers to God,
With supplications in the Fane of Fire,
If haply holy God may pardon us,
And thine own priestly heart illume us still.”
The king of kings astonied called the archmages
Forth from the throng, and said: “Here all is well;
Ye must not weep at happiness like this.

Praise God, be happy, and acknowledge Him,
For soon we meet again; mourn not my going.”
Then to the chiefs he said: “Turn, all of you,
Back from this mountain-top without your Sháh,
Because the way is longsome, waterless,
And hard, devoid of grass and foliage.
Relieve yourselves of going to and fro,
And make your souls a path toward the Light.
Yon desert none may pass who hath not Grace
And lofty stature.”

Three proud warriors

Attended to the bidding and turned back—
Zál, Rustam, and the old Gúdarz—all men
Of lofty aims, farsightedness, and heed,
But Tús and Gív and Faríburz, Bízhan,
And gallant Gustaham, would not return.
They went together for one day and night,
Distressed by reason of the waste and drouth;
At length a spring was seen upon the way,
And thither went the aspiring Kai Khusrau.
They lighted from their steeds by that clear spring,
Partook of food, and drew their breath awhile.
The Sháh addressed the marchlords thus, and said:—
“Here let us make our sojourn for the night,
And talk at large together of the past,
For henceforth nobody will see me more.
What time the radiant sun shall raise its flag,
And turn the darksome earth to liquid gold,
Then is the time when I shall pass away,
And haply with Surúsh for company;
My heart will I pluck out if darkening
It turneth from this path.”

As night advanced

The famous Kaian went before his God,
Bathed, head and body, in the limpid stream,
Reciting to himself the Zandavasta,
And thus addressed those famous men of lore:—
“Farewell for ever! When the sky shall bring
The sun again ye shall not look on me
Henceforth save in your dreams. Moreover be not

Here on the morrow on these arid sands,
Although the clouds rain musk, for from the moun-tains
Will rise a furious blast and snap the boughs
And leafage of the trees, a storm of snow
Will shower down from heaven's louring rack,
And toward Írán ye will not find the track.”