Bízhan was told: “Húmán the lion-like
Came boldly to thy grandsire, having challenged
The chiefs of both the wings. Not one went forth;
He then withdrew in anger and disdain,
First having slain four horsemen of the host,
And flung them to the ground despitefully.”

Bízhan raged like a leopard; his hands itched
For combat with Húmán. He bade to saddle
His favourite elephantine charger, donned
His Rúman war-mail, quickly girthed Shabrang,
And came, full of resource, before his father,
To whom he spake about his grandsire, saying:—
“My father! said I not so, point by point?
‘Gúdarz,’ I said, ‘is failing in his wits;
Dost thou not see the change in him? His heart
Is full of fear, his liver full of blood
Through his exceeding grief for all his sons
Slain and beheaded on the battlefield.’
For proof—this Turkman boldly, lion-like,
Came midst our warriors to Gúdarz, with spear
In hand and shouting like a drunken man,
And yet no horseman of this noble host
Was fit to fight, to loft him on a spear,
And make him like a bird upon the spit!
Array, my loving and most prudent sire!
My shoulders in the mail of Siyáwush,
For none but I may battle with Húmán,
And cause his manhood to go up in dust.”
Gív said, “My prudent son! give car a while.
I said to thee: ‘Be not impetuous,
And say not aught untoward to Gúdarz,
Because he hath experience and more wisdom,
And is the leader of this noble host.’
His cavaliers would fight an elephant,
Yet bade he none to battle with Húmán;
But youth, as it would seem, hath made thee rash;
Thou hast set up thy neck and come to me
With this request; I am not of thy mind,
And therefore let me hear no more thereof.”
Bízhan replied: “If thou accedest not
To my desire thou wouldst not have me famous.
I will go girded to the general,
And smite my breast for leave to fight Húmán.”
He wheeled his charger, hurried to Gúdarz,
Saluted him, and told him all with sorrow:—
“O paladin of our world-ruling Sháh,
Versed in affairs, thou glory of the throne!
I see this cause for wonderment in thee,
Though I am one of little wit, that thou
Hast made a pleasance of this battlefield,
And purged thy heart of warfare with the Turkmans!
The seventh day is hard at hand; but day
And night bring rest, not action, for the sun
Beholdeth not the warriors' scimitars,
And no dust riseth in the face of heaven!
More wonderful than that—from yonder host
One Turkman—one misguided wretch—came forth,
Whom God who giveth good, but bringeth ill
On evil men, led from Túrán in arms
In order to be slaughtered by thy hand,
And thou didst spare the netted onager!
I do not understand thy policy.
Supposest thou that, if Húmán were slain
E'en now, Pírán would not come forth to fight?
Think not that ever he will be the first
To move his army to the open field.
Behold now I have bathed my hands in blood,
And girded up my loins to fight Húmán,
Whom, if the paladin will give me leave,
I will encounter like a furious lion.
Now let the general order Gív to give me
The arms of valiant Siyáwush, the helm
And Rúman mail, unbuckling them himself.”
On hearing what Bízhan said and perceiving
His courage and his wise advice Gúdarz,
Rejoicing, mightily applauded him,
And answered: “Fortune ever prosper thee.
Since thou bestrod'st the pardskin, crocodiles
Have held their breath and lions sheathed their
claws.
Thou never restest but art first in fight
And in adventures, faring gallantly
And, like a lion, always conquering.
Still ere thou challengest Húmán think well
If thou canst meet him on the battlefield,
For he is a malignant Áhriman,
And like a mail-clad mountain in the fray,
While thou art but a youth. Heaven scarce hath
turned
Above thy head. Thou lovest not thyself.
Wait, and I will dispatch to fight with him
Some veteran Lion, like a thundering cloud,
To shower arrows down on him like hail,
And pin his steel casque to his head.”

Bízhan

Said: “Paladin! a gallant youth should have
Accomplishment. If thou saw'st not my fight
Against Farúd now is the time to prove me.
I rolled up earth when fighting at Pashan.
None hath beheld my back upon the day
Of battle, and I am not fit to live
If I have not such prowess as the rest.
Now if thou dost deny me this, and say:—
‘Adventure not thyself against Húmán,’
I will complain of thee before the Sháh,
And give up belt and helm from this time forth.”
Gúdarz smiled joyfully upon the youth,
So like a noble cypress-tree, and answered:—
“How fortunate is Gív in such a son!
And may I ne'er forget the glorious day
Whereon a virtuous mother gave thee birth.
Pards' claws have proven impotent since thou
Didst stretch thy hands to fight. Thou mayest meet
Húmán, and may good fortune be thy guide.
Now in the name of God who ruleth all,
And by the triumphs of our warriors' Sháh,
Endeavour that destruction may o'erwhelm
This Áhriman, God willing, by thy hand.

Now will I say to Gív: ‘Give to Bízhan
The suit of armour that he asketh for.’
If thou shalt vanquish thine antagonist
Thou shalt receive addition at my hands,
And shalt be greater than Farhád and Gív
In treasure and in troops, in throne and crown.”
Thus spake the grandsire to the grandson—one
Full of resource and ruse—who, lighting, kissed
The ground and praised him. Then the paladin
Called Gív. Talk passed about the youth and how
He fain would combat in that royal mail.
“Chief paladin!” said to the sire the son,
‘This one is mind and soul and world to me:
His life is not so worthless in mine eyes;
I would not lose him down the Dragon's maw.”
“Fond one!” Gúdarz said, “think not thus of him.
Bízhan, though young and fresh, is led by wisdom
In all things, and besides we should fight here,
And purify the world of Áhrimans.
We, whom the Sháh commanded to take vengeance
For Siyáwush, may not heed kin or spare
Our lives although the clouds rain swords of steel.
We must not break Bízhan's heart for the fight,
Or veil his hopes of fame. A youth if slothful
Will prove but mean of spirit, dull of soul.”
Gív, left without resource by such reply,
Made yet one more endeavour to persuade
His son, if haply he would shun the strife.
The son replied: “Thou wilt disgrace my name.”
Then Gív said to Gúdarz: “Chief-paladin!
When our own lives are put in jeopardy
We cease to care about son, host, and treasure,
Respect for, and command of, chief and Sháh.
I have a ruggèd time in front of me;
Why should I sacrifice my life for him?
Where are his own arms if he fain would fight?
He hath his mail: why should he ask for mine?”
The champion said: “I do not want thy mail.
Think'st thou that all the warriors of the world
Will seek for fame in thine accoutrements,
And no chief aim at glory and renown
Unless he hath the arms of Siyáwush?”
He spurred his charger from the troops around
That he might quit them for the battleground.