This done, Pírán, about the hour of sleep,
Sent to Afrásiyáb a messenger,
Shrewd, well advised, and old, of ready speech,
A warrior, a cavalier, and brave,
Thus saying: “Go, say to the Turkman king:—
‘O righteous king who seeketh diadems!
Since first the vault of yonder lofty sky
Revolved above the sad, dark dust of earth
No king like thee hath sat upon the state;
The name of king hath not pertained to any;
None else is worthy of the throne, to bind
The girdle on, and compass crown and fortune.
The Ruler of the world will send up dust
From those that meet thee on the day of battle.
A slave am I and guilty in thy sight
In that I did not follow thy shrewd counsels.
The Sháh hath been much plagued by Kai Khusrau,
And all through me, but yet I am not conscious
That I did wrong; it was the will of God;
What hath been hath been, much talk will not profit.
The monarch, if he seeketh good in me,
Will spare and pardon. Now I send him tidings
How heaven hath been dealing with his slave.
I led mine army to Mount Kanábad,
And checked the progress of the Íránians;
Upon their side a mighty host advanced,
Led by Gúdarz and other generals;
No greater host since Minúchihr was Sháh
Hath issued from Írán against Túrán.
They took up their position at Raibad
Upon the mountains. For three days and nights
The hosts faced one another like two leopards.
We did not take the offensive for we thought:—
‘Perchance the foe will march out on the plain.’
Gúdarz however was content to wait,
And would not leave the mountains; then Húmán,
My brother, that world-conqueror, longed for fight,
And went to challenge the Íránians;
I know not what possessed that lion-man.
The son of Gív came out, encountered him,
And having slain him turned my head with sorrow.
Who ever knew a lofty cypress-tree
Killed by a blade of grass? This broke the hearts
Of our chief men, and happiness was dashed
By grief; moreover noble Nastíhan,
With twice five thousand proven cavaliers,
Departed from me at the break of day,
And perished by the mace-blows of Bízhan.
Grieved to the heart I led the army on,
And went forth shouting to the battlefield.
We fought in force till night rose o'er the hills,
But when nine hundred of the king's great men
Were headless on the field, and of the rest
The more part had been wounded to the heart
With grief, their bodies by the scimitar,
The Íránians gat the upper hand of us.
Their purpose of revenge is absolute,
And I am fearful that the turning sky
Will wholly cease to favour us. Since then
Ill news have reached me and perturbed me more,
That Kai Khusrau is coming with a host
To aid his general in this campaign.
If this prove true the king is ware that I
Can not encounter them unless he set,
With his fierce troops, his face toward Írán,
Take part in this campaign, avert this evil,
And make revenge the girdle of his loins,
For if we perish by the Íránians' hands
None will be left to take revenge for us!”
The messenger on this went like a blast.
He mounted swift as fire upon a courser—
A mighty beast whose feet were like the wind—
And journeyed, till he reached Afrásiyáb,
Without a halt for breathing, rest, or sleep.
He came swift as a blast before the king,
First kissed the throne, then told his tale. The
monarch,
On hearing from Pírán such woeful tidings,
Grew sorely troubled and his colour changed.
He was heart-broken, grieving for the slain,
Whose hap became to him a lasting sorrow;
He grieved too that his army had been worsted,
And country harried. War pressed everywhere,
The world was strait to him in his distress;
Still, having heard the message of Pírán,
And seeing that his troops maintained their ground,
He blessed the general and showed joy. His heart
Grew brighter. Then he called the messenger,
Bestirred himself, took counsel all that night,
And when at dawn he donned the crown anew
He gave the messenger an interview.