When, from the rear, Rúín, son of Pírán,
Observed the onset with its cloud of dust
He issued from the mighty Turkman host
With other nobles, as they had been wolves,
And like a stout pard grappled with the foe.
He struggled but prevailed not in the strife;
Then flung away his Indian scimitar,
And showed his back despairing of the battle.
Pírán the chief with none of his own kin
Stayed at his post amazed. Gív, seeing him,
Wheeled to attack, and of the body-guard
Speared four and flung them vilely to the ground.
Pírán, the son of Wísa, strung his bow,
And showered arrows on his enemy,
While bold Gív held his shield above his head,
And with his spear came charging like a wolf,
But, when he sought to fall upon Pírán,

His charger jibbed. Enraged he lashed his steed,
And seethed, and cursed the foul, malicious Dív;
Then with his shield of wolf-skin o'er his head,
He dropped his spear, strung up his bow and drew it
In hope to pin Pírán's hand to his shield.
Four times he hit Pírán's breast, thrice his steed,
But neither horse nor rider suffered aught.
Pírán, on Gív's companions drawing near,
Fought yet more fiercely, charging him like smoke,
To wound him and defeat his valiant troops.
Gív too rushed forward and dishelmed Pírán,
But hurt him not, and Gív was vexed at heart.
Bízhan approached and said: “My glorious sire!
I heard our monarch say: ‘Pírán will fight
In many a fierce engagement and escape
The clutch of sharp-clawed Dragons, but Gúdarz
Will take his life at last.’ Strive not so fiercely
With him, my sire! His time hath not yet come.”
Gív's troops, brave men and full of wrath, came up
Whereat Pírán turned toward his own array
With groans, in dudgeon, and with livid face,
And, when he reached Lahhák and Farshídward,
Said: “O my men of name, brave Hearts, and swords-
men!
It was because of moments such as these
That erst I fostered you upon my breast.
Now when the host hath come forth to the fight,
And when the world is black to us with foes,
I have not seen one come before the host,
And battle there for glory!”

At his words

The chieftains' hearts breathed vengeance. As they
fared
They said: “If we have not unsullied souls
We need not be in terror for our bodies.
Bind we our skirts together,*

ne'er must we
Relax our girdles from this strife.”

They went,

Lahhák and Farshídward, to challenge Gív,
And brave Lahhák thrust at his girdle, hoping
To bring him from his saddle headlong down.
The coat of mail was shivered by the shock
Yet Gív lost not his stirrups, and his spear
Pierced the swift charger of Lahhák. It fell
In agony. Lahhák regained his feet
While Farshídward rode up and with his sword
Struck at the spear of Gív as quick as wind,
Clave it in twain and gloried in the stroke.
Gív, when he saw the blow of Farshídward,
Drew from his girdle his huge mace and bellowed
Like some fierce-breathing dragon. With one blow
He sent the falchion from his foeman's hand,
Struck him another blow upon the neck,
And rained a fiery shower upon his body,
Which made his blood from mouth to liver tingle,
Took all his strength away and dazed his head.
While Gív was thus engaged Lahhák bestrode
As rapidly as smoke a wind-foot steed,
And those two warriors with mace and spear
All lion-like attacked Gív, many a blow
Rained on him from those valiant chieftains' maces,

Yet sat he firmly on his pard-skin saddle,
And that contention frayed him not a whit.
Now when Lahhák and Farshídward encountered
Such stout resistance from that lion-man
They said to one another in fierce wrath:—
“Ill hath descended on us from the stars!
He on yon saddle hath a brain of brass,”
Thou wouldest say, “on chest but lion's hide!”
Gív called to his companions for a spear,
And wheeled to right and left in his attack,
But neither of the twain was overthrown.
He thought: “A novel task confronteth me!
The chiefs have come not from Túrán, but dívs
Out of Mázandarán!”

Upon Gív's right

Guráza with a mace of Rúman steel
Came dust-swift to encounter Farshídward.
He rode a charger camel-like in bulk,
And aimed a blow; the wary Turkman ducked,
And with his spear struck at Guráza's belt,
But failed to pierce the mail. Then sword in hand
Bízhan came lion-like to help Guráza,
And smote upon the helmet Farshídward,
Whose prowess rent the earth. Bízhan then sought
To clutch his foeman's helm with his right hand;
His foeman stooped; Bízhan's attempt was foiled.
Behind Bízhan came Gustaham in haste,
And other nobles of Írán withal
Nigh the Túránian host, with anxious hearts
And eager for the fight. Andarímán
Came rushing dust-like to encounter them,
And let fly with the mace at Gustaham
To break his ribs; he parried with his sword,
Which snapped in twain and filled his heart with
fear.
Hajír came up to aid those warriors,
And showered arrows on Andarímán,

Whereof one struck the saddle, piercing through
The horse's mail, and horse and life grew strangers.
The rider disengaged himself, held up
His shield above his head, and rose crestfallen.
The Turkmans shouted, and their cavaliers,
Who charged like dívs, made shift to bear him off
In presence of the foe. From morn, till night
Rose o'er the hills, the horsemen on both sides
Kept sending up the dust of war, and mixed
The earth with blood until all spirit went
From steeds and cavaliers, and mouths gave o'er,
For they could raise the battle-cry no more.