Gív took the letter when the Sháh had sealed it,
Did reverence and, departing to his house,
Prepared to take his journey to Sístán.
He mounted all the horsemen of his kin,
And, having first commended him to God,
Departed through the desert to the Hírmund,
As one that rideth post, or like the game
That he put up, performing two days' journey
In one. With wounded hearts and eager steps
The party faced the deserts and the heights.
Now when the watchman saw Gív from the look-out
He passed the word on to Zábulistán:—
“A cavalier with mounted troops hath reached
The Hírmund; a standard fluttereth behind him;
A falchion of Kábul is in his hand.”
Zál heard the watchman's shout and bade his steed
Be bridled, then pricked forth to meet the comers,
Who haply might prove foes, but when he saw
Gív's withered face he was astound and hasted,
Supposing: “Something hath befallen the Sháh
Since Gív hath been sent hither from Írán!”
When near at hand the paladin and escort
Drew up across the road and greeted Zál,

Who asked about the Íránians and the Sháh,
The chieftains and Túránians. Gív then gave
To Zál the greetings of the great—the Sháh's
And high-born warriors'—and told his anguish
For his lost son: “Thou seest me wan, mine insteps
All dappled leopard-like with tears of blood!”
Then asked where Rustam was, and Zál replied:—
“He will return from hunting onager
At sunset.”

“I will go,” Gív said, “and see him;

I have a letter for him from Khusrau.”
“Go not,” Zál answered, “he will come anon,
So till he cometh tarry in the house,
And pass one day with us in happiness.”
Reflecting on the case they reached Zál's palace,
And even as Gív entered Rustam came.
Gív went to meet him and, on drawing nigh,
Dismounted from his horse and did obeisance.
His heart was yearning and he wept. When Rustam
Saw Gív heart-stricken and in tears he thought:—
“Írán then and the Sháh—our age's Moon—
Have perished!”

Lighting and embracing Gív

He asked about the wearer of the crown—
Khusrau—about Gúdarz, Tús, Gustaham,
And all the warriors both great and small—
Shápúr, Ruhhám, Bízhan, Farhád, Gurgín,
And every one. At mention of Bízhan
Gív uttered an involuntary cry,

And said to Rustam: “O thou worshipful,
The choicest of the princes of the earth!
Joy hath returned to me at sight of thee,
And through thy kindly greetings and thy words.
All those whom thou hast named are well and send
Thee salutation, peace, and messages,
Except Bízhan, O champion of the mighty!
Who is reported fettered in a dungeon.
Now seest thou not what stroke of evil fortune
Hath fallen full upon my hoary head?
I had but one son in the world, and he
Was both a son and upright minister,
And I have lost him! None e'er saw our race
In such affliction! Ever since have I
Been in the saddle, as thou seest me,
And speeding like the bright sun, night and day,
Just like the mad, to find some trace of him!
The Sháh hath in his world-reflecting cup…
He stood before the Maker, much imploring
And praising on the royal feast—the Urmuzd
Of Farwardín—then left the Fane of Fire,
Went to his throne, girt up his loins, assumed
The crown, and set the shining cup before him.
He searched therein past measure for Bízhan,
And indicated him as in Túrán,
In heavy fetters and disastrous plight,
And, having thus revealed him by the cup,
Sent me to thee in haste. I come in hope,
Although my cheeks are pale and dim mine eyes,
Because I look to thee alone for aid,
Who girdest up thy loins to succour all.”
Gív spake, the lashes of his eyes were charged
With tears of gall, and from his heart he heaved
A chilling sigh. When he had given the letter
To Rustam he narrated what Gurgín
Had done, then bitterly bewailed Bízhan,
And poured down tears of blood upon his breast;
For he and Rustam had been long akin,
That chieftain's daughter was the wife of Gív,
While Rustam had Gív's sister for his spouse,
And gallant Farámarz by that brave dame.
Bízhan withal, that hero eminent
In every company, had for his mother
The daughter of the elephantine Rustam,
Who said to Gív: “Be not concerned hereat,
Because I will not take from Rakhsh the saddle
Till I have clasped Bízhan's hand in mine own,
And have demolished all his bonds and prison.
By God's strength, since the Sháh requireth it,
Will I release him from that darksome pit.”