When forest and wolf's haunt were near, Mírín,
Who feared that fierce beast, showed Gushtásp its lair,
Then turned back with Híshwí, grieved, with full heart,
And weeping tears of blood. Thus said Híshwí:—
“We shall not see that noble man return.
Woe for that breast and arm and neck of his!
Woe for his courage, puissance, and mace!”
Now when Gushtásp was drawing near the wood
His warlike heart was full of anxious thought;
He lighted from his noble charger, prayed
Before the Master of the world, and said:—
“O holy Fosterer of all, who sheddest
Thy lustre o'er the processes of time!
Do thou assist me to o'ercome this beast.
Have mercy on the soul of old Luhrásp,
For if this monster, which the ignorant
Have termed a wolf, shall triumph over me,
My sire will wail when he hath heard the tidings,
Will never rest again but be distraught,
Like those that are insane, and everywhere
Be questing and lamenting; while if I,

In sheer dismay, shall shun this evil beast
I may not face the folk for very shame.”
He mounted, raised the battle-cry, and grasped
The scimitar of Salm; with bow hung ready
Upon his arm he made his way with caution
And throbbing heart till he was near the spot,
And then he thundered like a cloud in spring.
Now when the wolf beheld him from the wood
It sent a roar up to the darksome clouds,
And like a lion or a savage leopard
Tore with its claws the ground. Gushtásp, on seeing
The monster, took in hand and drew his bow,
And showering arrows from it swift as wind
He made it as it were a cloud in spring.
When wounded by the arrows of Gushtásp
The beast became yet fiercer for the pain.
It fell, but leaping to its feet came on—
A lusty monster—butting with its horns,
Stag-like, with smarting body and in wrath,
Closed with the charger, gored its sable loins,
And ripped it up from testicles to navel.
The atheling drew from his waist the sword,
Dismounted, smote the beast full on the head,
And clave asunder back and breast and shoulder;
Then in the presence of the Lord of beasts,
Lord of omniscience and of good and ill,
Made his thanksgiving to the Omnipotent,
And thus he said: “O Thou who madest fortune!
Thou pointest out the way to them that err,
And art the just, supreme, and only God.
We prosper and we triumph in Thy name;
All Grace and knowledge are at Thy disposal.”
He left the place of prayer, wrenched out the tusks,
The two long tusks, and going from the forest
Alone fared onward till he reached the sea
Whereby Híshwí was sitting and Mírín
In anguish, deep in converse of the past;
Their talk was of Gushtásp and of the wolf:—
“Woe for that brave and gallant cavalier
Now in his arduous fight and stained with blood
In that wolf's clutch!”

Whenas Gushtásp appeared

Afoot, all bloody, and with cheeks like flower
Of fenugreek, they rose with sad exclaims,
Embraced him mournfully, their cheeks all wan,
The lashes of their eyes like clouds in spring,
And cried: “How went thy battle with the wolf?
Our hearts were bleeding at thine enterprise.”
Gushtásp made answer saying: “My good friends!
Is there no fear of God in Rúm, that thus
A savage monster is allowed to live
Within the kingdom for a length of years,
Destroying all the people in its path,
And holding Cæsar as a pinch of dust?
But I have cleft it with Salm's scimitar,
So now all fear and dread for you are over.
Go and behold this wonder while yet warm,
See how the hide is rent upon the monster!
Thou'lt say: ‘There is a mighty elephant
Inside, as long and broad as is the forest!’”
Then both ran thither brightened by his words,
And saw the wolf as 'twere an elephant
With lion's claws and indigo in hue,
But cleft from head to midriff by the blow;
That one skin would have held two mighty lions.
Thereafter they invoked full many a blessing
Upon that glorious Sun of earth, and went
Glad-hearted from the wood, and came again
Before that Lion of the fight to whom
Mírín brought many presents, such as he

Esteemed befitting, but Gushtásp accepted
Naught but another steed and made for home.
When, journeying from the sea, he reached his dwelling,
Observant Katáyún came forth to him,
And asked: “Where didst thou get that coat of mail,
Because thou wentest out to hunt?”

He said:—

“A wealthy company from mine own city
Gave me this coat of mail, the sword, and helmet,
With many a greeting from my kith and kin.”
Then Katáyún brought wine as 'twere rose-water
For scent, and feasted with her spouse till bed-time.
The happy couple slumbered happily,
But constantly he started in his sleep,
While dreaming of his battle with the wolf
That seemed a lusty dragon. Then to him
Said Katáyún: “What aileth thee to-night
To be thus terrified when no one touched thee?”
He said: “I dreamed about my throne and fortune.”
Then Katáyún perceived that he was born
Of royal race—a king by heart and nature,
A grandee, but concealed the fact from her,
And would not look to Cæsar for advancement.
Gushtásp said: “Moon-faced one of cypress stature,
With silvern breast and odorous of musk!
Prepare for us to journey to Írán,
To journey to the dwelling of the brave.
Thou shalt behold those glorious fields and fells,
And therewithal the just and generous Sháh.”
“Speak not so foolishly,” said Katáyún,
“Nor rashly undertake such enterprises,
But have an understanding with Híshwí
When going. He may ferry thee. The world
Renewed its youth when he conveyed thee hither;
But I shall tarry here in longsome grief,
Not knowing how I shall behold thee more!”

They wept upon their couch o'er what might chance,
No fire was needed, they were burned with sorrow;
Yet when the circling sun rose in the sky
The young folks, wide awake and full of hope,
Arose from that soft couch and questioned saying:—
“What aspect will the heaven wear for us,
And will the world prove harsh to us or loving?”
Mírín for his part went as swift as wind
To Cæsar, saying: “O illustrious lord!
Our losses by the wolf have reached an end,
The monster's body filleth all the forest,
And thou mayst see the wonder if thou wilt.
The beast attacked me with a furious charge,
And gat a sword-stroke from my hand, whereby
From head to midriff it was cleft asunder,
And terror filled the Dív's heart at the blow.”
The words made Cæsar heighten, his shrunk cheek
Glowed as he bade men go with wains and oxen
To fetch the wolf. They found the mighty beast
Cut down from head to midriff with the sword,
And when they haled it forth among the meadows
Thou wouldst have said the very hill-tops shook.
The world was there to gaze upon that wolf,
That wolf? That monstrous, fierce, and lusty dív!
When Cæsar saw the elephantine form
Of that fierce brute, he clapped his hands for joy,
And, summoning the bishop to the palace,
Bestowed his daughter on Mírín that day.
They wrote to the patricians, notables,
And prelates of the kingdom thus: “Mírín,
That Lion and that man of high degree
In Rúm, hath set it from that fierce wolf free.”