Howbeit God had mercy on his youth,
And foiled the king's intent, for as they dug
A hole wherein to plant the gallows-tree,
Pírán, for so it chanced, was seen approaching.
Now when he reached the place and saw the road
All occupied by Turkmans under arms,
And that a lofty gibbet had been reared,
Wherefrom a twisted lasso dangled down,
He asked the people: “Wherefore is this gibbet?
Who hath incurred the anger of the king?”
Then Garsíwaz made answer: “For Bízhan
The Íránian, the monarch's enemy.”
Pírán urged on his charger and, when near
Bízhan, beheld him stricken to the heart
And naked, with his two hands bound behind him
Firm as a rock, his mouth parched, his cheeks wan.
Pírán inquired of him: “How camest thou hither?
Thou camest from Írán no doubt for blood.”
Bízhan related all that he had suffered
From his false friend. Pírán had pity on him,
And weeping bade them leave Bízhan awhile

Unhung; he said: “Detain him here that I
May have an audience with the sovereign,
And show him what will be the happiest course.”
He galloped palace-ward, approached the king
In humble attitude with folded arms,
And walking quickly to the throne called down
With fervour blessings on Afrásiyáb.
When, like an honest guide and minister,
He stood before the throne, the king knew well
That he was standing there to ask a boon,
And smiling said to him: “What wouldst thou?
Speak.
None is more honoured with me than thyself.
If thy petition is for gold or jewels,
For realm or army, I will not withhold
My treasures. Why hast thou bestowed these pains!”
Pírán, the loyal, heard and kissed the ground,
Leaped up and said: “Sit on the throne for ever,
And may good fortune haunt no other place.
The monarchs of the earth proclaim thy praises,
The bright sun blesseth thee. Through thy good
fortune
I need not horses, followers, or power.
I ask not for myself, none of thy subjects
Hath need to ask; my fortune is thy rule,
My stay thy glorious chiefs. Concerned am I
Lest any suffer through my reticence,
And my good name be lost. Have I not often
Advised the king erewhile? But since my words
Availed not I have held my peace of late.
‘Slay not the son of Kai Káús,’ I said,
‘'Twill make thee enemies of Tús and Rustam,
And Siyáwush who is of Kaian race
Hath girt his loins to serve thee loyally;
Peace will be broken and the Íránians
Will trample on us with their elephants.’
Yet didst thou out of simple wantonness
Slay Siyáwush, and mingle bane with sweets.
It may be that thou hast forgotten Gív,
And Rustam the brave chief of paladins.
Hast thou not seen what ills the Íránians
Have wrought upon the country of Túrán
By trampling with their beasts the greater part,
And turning fortune's stream to bitterness?
As yet Zál's sword-point is not worn away
Inside its sheath, for Rustam scattereth heads
Therewith, and spurteth blood upon the sun.
Wilt thou seek war in peace, and wantonly
Sniff at the bloom of bane? If thou shalt shed
Bízhan's blood in this matter from Túrán
There will go up a dust-cloud of revenge.
Thou art a wise king; we are only lieges;
Ope thy heart's eye, consider how the Sháh
Requited thee for former injuries.
In sooth thou art provoking fresh demands,
And bringing into fruit the tree of bale.
We cannot bear, O mighty sovereign,
And master of the world! another war.
Thou knowest Gív, none better! and brave Rustam,
That savage Crocodile, and him who will
Come forth to fight us for his grandson's sake,
Gúdarz, son of Kishwád, whose hand is steel!”
As he threw water on the raging fire
Afrásiyáb replied: “Dost thou not know
What he hath done, and brought disgrace upon us
Both here and in Írán? Dost thou not see
How mine abandoned daughter hath heaped shame
Upon my hoary head, and made the names
Of all my women-folk the common talk?
For this disgrace all lands and mine own troops
Will ever make my court their laughing-stock;
If he shall live all men will wag their tongues
At me, I shall be wretched and despised,
And ever from mine eyes shed tears of gall.”
Pírán did reverence ofttimes and replied:—
“O monarch of good fortune and just speech!
'Tis as the king hath said. His only object
Is his good name. But let my lord consider
The prudent counsel that I offer him.
Let us confine Bízhan with heavy chains,
Such that he would prefer death on the gibbet;
'Twill be a warning to the Íránians,
Who will not strive to injure us hereafter,
For no one readeth on the muster-roll
The names of captives in thy prison-house.”
The monarch acted as Pírán advised,
Perceiving that his heart and tongue agreed.
Good ministers with their good counsellings
Illume the Grace divine and throne of kings.