The courier carried to the Sháh the tidings
Of that eclipse of fortune. Brave Khusrau
Was troubled when he heard, his bosom throbbed
With grief. To anguish at his brother's case
Was added anguish on the troops' account.

That night he uttered malisons on Tús
Till cock-crow. Summoning a prudent scribe,
And pouring out the fulness of his heart,
He wrote a letter in a wrathful strain,
With eyes all tears in mourning for his brother,
To Faríburz the son of Sháh Káús—
A letter for the chieftains of the host.
First in the letter came the praise of Him,
Who made both earth and time, thus: “In the name
Of Him Who is the Lord of sun and moon,
And giveth power alike to good and bad!
From Him come triumph and defeat, from Him
Both good and bad get might and their desire.
He fashionèd the world and place and time,
He fashionèd ant's foot and massy mountain,
And hath bestowed life, lustihood, and wisdom,
High throne and majesty and diadem.
No man can free himself from that control;
The lot of one is Grace and throne, another's
Misfortune, want, grief, suffering, and hardship;
Yet see I that All-holy God is just
In everything, from yonder shining sun
To darksome dust.

Tús with the flag of Káwa,

And forty warriors wearing golden boots,
I sent out with a host against Túrán,
And, first fruit of revenge, my brother perished!
Let not Irán have such another chief!
Let not the host have such another leader!
Alas! Alas! my brother, young Farúd—
The head of nobles and the stay of heroes!
I was in tears of anguish for my sire,
A long while was I burning in that sorrow,
And now my brother is the cause of tears!
I know not who are friends and who are foes.
‘Go not,’ I said to Tús, ‘toward Charam;
Breathe not upon Kalát or Mount Sapad,
Because Farúd is with his mother there.
He is a warrior of royal race;

He knoweth not this army whence it is,
And if they be Íránian troops or what;
He will come forth to stop the way and stake
His head upon the issue of a fight.’
Alas! that warrior of royal birth
Whom wretched Tús hath given to the wind!
If he had been commander heretofore
It had been evil hap for Sháh Káús,
And furthermore he slumbereth in battle,
And only rouseth to sit down to drink.
There is no prowess in his neighbourhood,
And may a soul so darkened cease to be!
When thou shalt read this letter stir thyself;
Put far away from thee food, rest, and sleep;
Send Tús back with all speed, observe mine orders,
And heed not other counsels. Thou art chief,
The captain of the host; 'tis thine to wear
The golden boots and hold the flag of Káwa.
Illustrious Gúdarz will counsel thee
In all; haste not to fight, keep far from wine,
Abstain from slumber, seek not at the first
To fight through anger, tarry as thou art
Until the wounded are restored to health;
Then Gív will lead thy van for he possesseth
Grace, stature, and the clutches of a leopard;
Bring from all sides material for the war,
And God forfend thou think of banqueting!”
They sealed this letter with the Sháh's own signet,
Who thus enjoined the messenger: “Depart
Upon the road; repose not night or day,
And take another horse at every stage.”
So sped the messenger until he came
To Faríburz and gave him the dispatch,
Who summoned Tús and Gív and all the chiefs,
Spake of the past, read the Sháh's letter to them,
And then a new Tree fruited in the world.
The nobles and the Lions of Írán
All called a blessing down upon the Sháh,
The leader Tús gave up the royal standard,
The drums, the elephants, and golden boots
To Faríburz, and said to him: “They come
As worthy comrades to a worthy man.
May fortune always give thee victory,
Be every day of thine a New Year's Day.”
Then Tús took all the kindred of Naudar,
Those warlike cavaliers and their command,
And making no delay upon the road
Came from the field of battle to the Sháh,
And kissed the ground before him, while Khusrau
Vouchsafed not so much as to look at him,
And only spake to utter malisons,
Disgraced Tús in the presence of the court,
And said at last: “Thou man of evil mark!
Let thy name cease among the illustrious.
Dost thou not fear the holy Lord of earth?
Hast thou no awe or reverence for heroes?
I gave to thee a royal helm and girdle,
And sent thee forth to fight against the foe.
Did not I say: ‘Go not toward Charam’?
Yet didst thou go and give my heart to sorrow,
Didst first of all take vengeance on myself,
And minishedst the race of Siyáwush!
My noble brother—brave Farúd—whose peer
The age had not thou slewest, and to fight
With him 'twould need a host of men like thee!
Thereafter when thou wentest to the fray
Thou wast absorbed in minstrelsy and feasting!
Thou hast no place among the throng of men,
The things for thee are chains and straps and madhouse;
Nor hast thou business with the men of rank,
Because thou hast no wise considerance.
Thy white beard and descent from Minúchihr
Have given thee hope of life; else had I bidden
One of thine enemies to be thy headsman.
Go! Let a prison be thy home henceforth,
And let thine evil nature be thy jailor.”
He drave Tús out, put him in bonds, and tore
The root of gladness from his bosom's core.