Two armies so collided
That they struck fire out of water;
You'd say the air was all crimsoned daggers,
Their steel had all become solid rubies.*
Though the heroes of the victorious army did not fail in steadiness and devotion, yet the onset of the elephants shook the right and left divisions. Several tigers of battle's jungle, viz., tiger-hunting soldiers, who regarded the dust of the battle-field as the cosmetic of victory's bride, and as the rouge of fortune's cheek, and who sought for the water of life at the spring of the blood-drinking sword, quaffed their fill of desires. Such were Muḥd. Qāsim* Khān of Nīshāpūr, Ḥusain Qulī Khān, Shāh Qulī Maḥram, and L'al Khān Badakhshī. When they perceived that the horses would not face the elephants they fetched a circuit* and like famished tigers, sought their prey with blood-dripping swords and closed with the foe and overcame him. They hurled firmly-seated riders from their saddles and then despatched them by the dagger-hoofs of swift, fiery horses. Bands of devoted archers came forward on all sides and did yeomanly service. 'Alī Qulī Khān Shaibānī whose command made the centre illustrious, had come to a spot which had a great ravine in front of it, such that even elephants could not cross. The brave seekers of battle and the lion-like men of the centre were compressed into a small space and stood firm, looking for an opportunity to attack. They showed such endurance that the elephants retreated from the sides of the centre. Thereupon the latter came out in the rear of the enemy and discharged their arrows and wielded their swords. Hemū the ill-fated rode proudly on an elephant named Hawāī (the rocket?), which was one of his best, and glanced from side to side at the brave swordsmen, and at the onset of the rank-breaking ghāzīs. He beheld with apprehension the combats of the warriors of fortune's army, and gathering together a band of fierce elephants he showed every stratagem which his powerful capacity could conceive, and every daring deed which lurked in his seditious soul. He made powerful onsets and performed many valorous acts, and dislodged many strenuous soldiers of the sublime army. Bhagwān Dās, one of his leading men, and who was distinguished for his bravery in the field of battle, was cut to pieces in front of him, and Shādī Khān was trampled under the feet of the swift horses of fortune's army. Suddenly, in the midst of the contest, an arrow from the bended bow of Divine wrath reached Hemū's eye, and piercing the socket, came out at the back of his head. Seemingly, the wind of the pride, and the arrogance of that black-fated, inwardly darkened one passed out by that window. When those who were fighting around him saw that fortune's arrow had hit the target, the arm of their courage grew slack, and they lost heart. They became handless and footless, and no more girded up the loins of courage. His army was defeated and every man strewed the dust of defeat on his head, and scattered the glory of courage on the ground, and turned to flee. Just then Shāh Qulī Khān and some brave men came up to the elephant on which Hemū was riding. He did not know that Hemū was on the elephant, and sought to kill the driver in order that he might make the elephant his spoil. The helpless driver, who had neither the helmet of loyalty nor the cuirass of courage, from fear of his life, pointed out his master. When Shāh Qulī Khān heard of his great fortune, he blessed his stars and tossed the cap of joy to the skies. He gave quarter to the driver and made him hopeful of a royal reward. He then separated that and some other elephants and left the battle-field.
When the breeze of victory was wafted to the victory-marked standards of H.M. the Shāhinshāh from the vent of Divine favour, the black-fated foe at once turned their backs and sought safety in flight. The tigers of the jungle of courage cast the elephant-drivers headlong from the summits of their mountains by arrows* and blows of battle-axes and made the hill-resembling elephants go like a strong gale. When daily-increasing majesty is in battle-array, lion-hearted, rank-breaking men have no resource but in flight; how then could unreasoning brutes withstand the glory of genius? The victorious officers after such a victory, which till the extinction of the world will be the inscription on the victory-proclamation of great princes, and the resplendent preamble of mighty world-rulers, engaged in returning thanks to Providence. The rest of the victorious troops occupied themselves in slaying the fugitives and in collecting the spoil, and made mounds* of the slain, and treasuries of the spoil. The number of those fallen on the field was calculated at 5,000. Who could count the numbers of those who were trampled down on the roads during their flight? 1,500 noted elephants fell into the hands of the imperial servants. A force of victorious heroes pursued the fugitives, and after putting many to the sword returned successful to the foot of the throne. The ruler of the age returned thanks for the great boon and distinguished the combatants by endless favours. Whilst every one of the heroes was being brought into the presence and was receiving rewards temporal and spiritual, Shāh Qulī Khān brought in Hemū bound. Though they questioned him, he out of uncouthness (jahālat) made no reply. Perhaps he was unable to speak, or he was overwhelmed by shame and indisposed to say anything. Bairām Khān Khān-Khānān begged H.M. the Shāhinshāh to slay with this own sacred hand this stock of sedition, and to acquire merit by a holy combat. That lord of wisdom and master of sages, who regarded his youth as the veil of his divinely-bestowed wisdom, and abode under the screen of incognito and so obtained a respite from the vexatious disbelief of infidels, and the faith of the sincere, replied in words that were the interpretation of truth and were for the instruction of the wise, that his lofty spirit did not permit him to slay a captive and that it seemed to him that in the justice-hall of the Only One there was nothing meritorious in such an act. Though simple loyalists importuned and pressed him, the Shāhinshāh showed himself more and more averse to the proceeding. I extol the lofty intelligence of which no trace is to be found in the contents of books or in the minds of supreme sages; but the wise of the great court well know that this is not to be met with save in the lucid home of the holy heart of a pure spirit who shall have received the light of true knowledge from the Creator without the intervention of human means or earthly aids. This is manifest in the brows of the sitter on the temporal and spiritual throne. It is plain also to the practical man and the exoteric that under all circumstances a lofty and God-fearing mind has arrived at the stage of being beloved by God. Such an one (the practical man) knows that to act contrary to His pleasure is to strike oneself with a sword, for without human effort the power of the Creator casts him on the ground of contempt and the abyss of destruction. Accordingly this is apparent at the present day to those who read the daily chronicle of this king who is based upon auspiciousness. Where has he leisure that, while attending to the inner realities, he should give heed to the meanness and nothingness of opponents? Granting that he has leisure and permission from his intellect, how shall his lofty spirit decide to stain the holy skirt of his mind with such dust, and if such an event occur, how shall he stain his sword with the blood of such a moribund, impure wretch? What comparison is there between that holy personality and the petitions of men of the world? At last Bairām Khān Khān-Khānān when he perceived that H.M. was not inclined to take his view, withdrew from the attempt, and under the influence of hereditary beliefs which take their place in men from imitation of fathers and teachers, himself became engaged in the acquisition of this fancied merit, and with his sword cleansed the world from the contamination of his existence. Would that H.M. had come out of his veil and given attention to the matter! or that there had been some far-sighted master of wisdom in that court, so that they might have kept Hemū in prison and made him desirous of serving the threshold of fortune. Certainly he was a most excellent servant, and he had a lofty spirit. If he had been instructed by such a great one (as the far-seeing sage, or perhaps Akbar) what works might he not have performed? In order to display the Majesty of the Shāhīnshāh, and to give a lesson to the superficial they sent his head to Kabul,* while his trunk was conveyed to Delhi and placed on the gibbet of warning. The world had rest from strife and tumult, and mortals obtained happiness and tranquillity.