Káús with stricken heart sent to Zábul
To Zál a warrior, like a bird that flew
As swift as smoke, to say: “What hap is mine!
My crown and throne have tumbled to the dust.
And heaven hath given to the dívs my treasures
And troops arrayed like roses in the spring;
The wind, thou wouldst say, rose and bore them off.
Mine eyes are blinded and my fortunes shent,
My crown and throne are both o'erturned, and I
Lie stricken in the hand of Áhriman,
Who rendeth me asunder, soul from body.
I often sigh to think on thine advice,
Which I rejected foolishly, thus causing
The present trouble. If thou dost not act
Both capital and interest will be lost.”
He went as 'twere a bird as swift as smoke
And told what he had seen and heard to Zál,
Whose skin burst at the tidings, but he kept

The news from friend and foe. His shrowd heart
showed him
The ills that fate would bring upon Káús.
“The scimitar is all but out,” he said
To Rustam. “We must not thus feed at ease,
But make provision for the crown itself,
Because the Sháh is in the Dragon's breath:
How great a bale is on the Íránians!
Thy part is now to saddle Rakhsh and seek
For vengeance with the world-allotting sword.
God surely made thee for a time like this,
And thou art fitted for such labours now,
While I, I have outlived two centuries!
Thou wilt gain high renown and save the Sháh.
Thou must not in this Áhriman's own business
Take matters leisurely or stop to breathe,
But don the tiger-skin and purge thy head
Of sleep and thought. When one hath seen thy spear
Will any say: ‘His soul will rest?’ If thou
Shouldst fight the sea 'twould turn to blood, thy voice
Will level mountains. Thous must make Arzhang,
And the White Dív no less, despair of life.
As for the monarch of Mázandarán
Go smash him, ne??k and spine, with thy great mace.”
He answered thus: “The way is long, and I …
How shall I go to take revenge?”

Said Zál:—

“There are two routes both hard and dangerous;
One, which is long, was taken by Káús;
The other is a journey of two weeks,
The haunt of dív and lion, and all gloom;
Its murk will maze thine eyes. Choose thou the short,
And see its wonders; God will be thine aid.
What though the way be hard? An end will come,
The feet of glorious Rakhsh will traverse it,
And I will pray all night to see again
Thy limbs and iron mace; while if the Worldlord
Shall let the dívs' grip close upon thy life,
Who can resist His word? 'Tis said and done.
None can abide here though he tarry long,
And one whose fame embraceth all the world
Is not cast down at going.”

Rustam answered:—

“I gird me to obey although the great
Of yore walked not to Hell advisedly,
And only one grown sick of life will counter
The rending lion. Think of me as girt
And gone. I ask no help but God's, will give
Both soul and body for the Sháh, and break
The talismans that guard those sorcerers.
All that survive among the Íránians there
Will I bring back and gird their loins again;
I will not spare the White Dív nor Arzhang,
Nor Sanja nor Púlád son of Ghundí,

Nor Bíd. I swear by God, the only God,
Not to quit Rakhsh till I have bound Arzhang
With yoke on ne??k and hands as firm as rocks,
Have trod the brains and headpiece of Púlád,
And shaken earth beneath the feet of Rakhsh.”
He donned the tiger-skin and stretched himself,
While Zál called many blessings down on him,
Then mounted on his elephantine steed
With steadfast heart and mien. Rúdába came
With tearful cheeks while Zál too wept. She said:—
“So thou wilt go and leave me here to grieve!
How canst thou hope in God?”

He said: “Good mother!

I did not choose my course; 'tis destiny.
Do thou commit to God my soul and body.”
The people came to him to say farewell;
Who knew if he should look on Rustam more?
Uncounted by the wise the moments fly,
And, when an evil day hath passed thee, try
To reckon that the world hath gained thereby.