Now when the Arab spearmen of the desert
Heard from Hámávarán of Rustam's doings
With Misr and with Barbar and with their kings,
They chose a wise and valiant man, well skilled
In horsemanship and javelin-play, and wrote
A royal letter couched in fitting terms.
“We are,” they said, “the servants of the Sháh
And only walk the world at his command;
So when a host came from the Kargasárs
To seek his throne our hearts were greatly grieved
At such presumption. When Afrásiyáb
Desired thy throne (may none such dream thereof)
We chiefs and swordsmen went forth to the field
With our long spears and turned his joy and ??ase
To bitterness. On both sides many fell,
The age grew conversant with good and evil,
And now we hear of thee and that the Grace
Of king of kings reviveth. When thou comest
Back from Barbar we all will shoulder spears,
Fill earth from hill to hill with foemen's blood,
And make the world run like Jíhún.”

The envoy

Spurred forth toward Barbaristán, the Sháh
Received the letter couched in such fair terms,
Then wrote a letter to Afrásiyáb:—
“Quit thou Írán and limit thine ambition.
I wonder much at what I hear of thee.
Thou hast no wants, thou joyest in Túrán;
Then be not covetous or fondly grasping
At ill, which soon will bring thee lengthy toils.
A smaller matter is enough for thee—
To save thy skin. Dost know not that Írán
Is my seat, earth all mine? The boldest leopard
Will never dare to face the lion's claws.”

He gave a paladin the letter sealed,
Who reached the monarch of Túrán and Chín
In haste, first kissed the ground and did obeisance,
And after compliments gave him the letter
Which, when Afrásiyáb had read it, filled
His head with vengeance and his heart with rage.
He answered: “Only miscreants talk thus.
In thy case, if Írán had satisfied thee
Thou hadst not coveted Hámávarán,
And now that I have won Írán, and raised
My fluttering flag, that broad champaign is mine
On two accounts; thou needs must hear the truth:
First—I inherit all the land from Túr,
My grandsire and the son of Farídún;
And secondly—I cleared it of the Arabs
With my sword-arm. I with my scimitar
Behead the mountains and bring eagles down
From their dark cloud-tops.”

He equipped his troops,

And marched in person to oppose Káús,
Who, when he heard, arrayed a boundless host
And from Barbar marched to Arabia
To meet Afrásiyáb; the world was filled
With trump and tymbal-din, the sky was ebony,

The earth was iron. What with crash of ax
And twang of bow a blood-wave swept the field,
While Rustam thundering from the centre broke
The foemen with one charge. On that field slept
The fortunes of Túrán. Afrásiyáb
Boiled, like fermenting must, without a fire,
And cried: “O gallant hearts of mine, my Lions,
And chosen chiefs! 'twas for a time like this
That ye were reared upon my breast, and now
Ye play at battle with mine Arab foes!
Be strong, renew the fight, and make the world
Too narrow for Káús, spear and cut down
His warriors, and behead his haughty chiefs.
As for this lion-hearted man of Sigz,*

Who maketh heaven redden with his sword,
Be bold and take him captive with your lassos.
Whoever on the battlefield shall bring him
Down from the pard-skin to the dust shall have
A realm, a parasol, my daughter's hand,
And be entitled ‘captain of the host;’
Him will I make the lord of all Írán,
And will exalt him to revolving heaven.”
Thereat the Turkmans rallied to the fight.
With massive maces in their hands the brave,

The chieftains of Írán, so slaughtered them
That rivers, plains, and hills were strewn with slain—
The more part of their host—and earth was puddled
With blood to clay. The Turkmans' fortune slept.
Afrásiyáb fled Rustam with the troops
From Ghúr; he sought for gain but gained a loss,
And seeing fortune's bent left them and stricken
Marched toward Túrán, his warriors mostly slain:
He searched the world for honey and found bane.