Zál hearing this had the gold trappings placed
Upon his steed, and faring night and day
Rejoined his troops. Whenas he saw Mihráb
Unmoved and full of knowledge and good counsel,
He thought: “What cause have we to fear this host,
For Khazarwán is but a pinch of dust
To me?”

Then to Mihráb: “O man of prudence,

Approved in all! now will I go by night
And lay a hand upon the foe for blood.
They shall be ware that I am back again,
Back with full heart and ready to avenge.”
He marked the stations of the hostile chiefs,
Then drew his bow amain and shot three arrows
Of poplar, bough-like, arching through the sky
In three directions, and a clamour followed.
When it was day the soldiers gathered round
And marked the arrows, saying: “They are Zál's!
None other shooteth with such shafts as these.”
Cried Shamásás: “O Khazarwán, thou Lion!
Hadst thou not been remiss in fight, not dallied
So with Mihráb, his army and his treasure,
Zál had not troubled thee.”

Then Khazarwán:—

“He is but one, not Áhriman or iron.
Fear not, for I will grapple him anon.”
Whenas the bright sun crossed the vault were heard
Drums on the plain, and in the city sounds
Of tymbals, clarions, gongs, and Indian bells.
Zál donned his mail apace, bestrode his charger
As swift as dust, while all his warriors mounted
With vengeful thoughts and frowns upon their brows.
He led the army forth upon the plain,
Equipped with elephants and camp-enclosures,
Where host encountered host and made the waste
As 'twere a darksome mountain with the dust.
Then Khazarwán with mace and buckler rushed

To counter Zál, and smote his glittering breast
A blow that brake his famed cuirass. When Zál
Withdrew the warriors of Kábulistán
Retreated, but brave Zál armed him afresh.
His head was wroth, his blood was up, he brandished
His father's mace, while Khazarwán advanced
To challenge fight, a roaring Lion he,
Before the host. Zál had no sooner raised
The reek of fight than Khazarwán was on him
As quick as dust, while Zál in fury charged
His foe, and brandishing the ox-like mace
Smote Khazarwán upon the head and made
The ground as 'twere a leopard's back with blood;
Then flung him down, trod on him, passed along
And led the army forward to the plain,
Inviting Shamásás to come and fight,
But Shamásás came not; his blood was chilled.
Zál next descried Kulbád amid the dust
And shouldered his steel mace. Thereon Kulbád,
Observing Zál with mace and scimitar,
Endeavoured to escape his foeman's sight,
But Zál the cavalier strung up his bow
And lightly aimed at him a poplar arrow,
Struck full upon the girdle of Kulbád—
A girdle that was wrought of links of steel—
And pinned him to the pummel through the loins.
His troops' hearts burned for him while Shamásás
Despaired, his face paled when those chiefs were slain,
And he and all his army in full flight
Dispersed like sheep upon a stormy day,
Pressed by the soldiers of Zábulistán
And by Mihráb. The field was such with corpses
That thou hadst said: “The troops are cramped for room.”
The Turkmans fled toward Afrásiyáb,
Their mail unfastened and their girdles snapped.
When Shamásás had reached the open plain
Káran, the son of Káwa, came in sight
Returning from pursuing Wísa's host,
Whose noblest he had slain so easily.
The armies met together, Shamásás
Met with Káran, the lover of the fray,
Who knowing his antagonists, and why
They were retreating from Zábulistán,
Bade trumpets sound and occupied the road.
Thus host encountered host. The paladin
Said to his troops: “Ye men of noble name
And ardent soul! go battle with your spears,
And may ye rob the foe of life.”

With cries

Of maddened elephants they seized their spears,
Which made a reed-bed of the battlefield
And veiled the sun and moon. He lightly slew
Those Turkman troops and flung them on the track,
Fell on the wounded and the prisoners,
And sent their dust up to the shining sun,
While Shamásás with certain men of might
Fled and escaped the murky dust of fight.