The chieftain mounted on the steed of Gív,
And that brave warrior preceded him
With Indian sword in hand. If any met them
Gív, ever on the watch, struck off his head,
And covered up the corpse with earth and dust.
They made their journey to Siyáwushgird,
And, when they both recovered heart and wit,
They made a confidant of Farangís,
And privily agreed to quit the place,
Unnoticed by the troops. “We shall but straiten
The world to us if we delay,” said she.
“Afrásiyáb will hear, will neither eat
Nor sleep, but like the White Dív follow us,
Will make our hearts despair of pleasant life,

And leave not one of us, at large or hiding,
Alive. The world is full of enemies,
Our whole land is the abode of Áhriman.
Hear mine advice, my son endowed with Grace!
There is a meadow near out of the track
Of Turkman cavaliers; be there at dawn,
And have this saddle and black bridle with thee.
Thou wilt behold a mountain whereupon
Clouds fret their faces. Having sealed the height
Thou wilt behold the mead like jocund spring,
All rivulets and purling streams: the soul
Reviveth at the sight. When it is noon,
And thou art eager for repose, the herds
At pasture there will water at the streams.
Show to Bihzád the saddle and the bridle,
And, if he proveth tractable, advance,
Go quickly to him, let him see thy face,
Caress him with thy hand and speak to him.
When Siyáwush had given up all hope
Of this world, and his day was turned to night,
He spake thus to Bihzád his sable steed:—
‘Be thou henceforth free as the wind itself.
Remain upon the mountains and the meadows,
And when Khusrau shall come in quest of thee
Be thou his charger, tramp the whole world thro',
And sweep the earth of foemen with thy shoe.’”