The troops with Faríburz, Gúdarz, and Gív—
The shatterer of hosts—went to Írán
In grief with tearful cheeks. When they had reached
The road toward Charam and had Kalát
Above, the waters of Mayam below,
They spake about the conflict with Farúd,
And all their gain was anguish and remorse.
Fear of the Sháh filled every heart with pain,
For they were guilty and their eyes wept blood.
They came before Khusrau with souls abashed,
With wounded livers, and as men in fault
For having slain their monarch's blameless brother,
And yielded crown and signet to the foe;
They came with hearts seared and with folded arms,
As slaves are wont, before their sovereign.
Khusrau regarded them with angry looks;
His heart was full of pain, his eyes of tears,
And thus he spake to God: “O righteous Judge!
Thou gavest to me fortune, throne, and prowess,
But now I shame before Thee. Thou dost know,
Far better than I know, the why and how

Of things, or else I should command to set
A thousand stakes forthwith upon the open,
And Tús and all that carried arms with him
Should be impaled. I mourned my father's death,
My heart was filled with sorrow, pain, and trouble,
And now there is new vengeance for Farúd,
For I must needs smite off the head of Tús.
I said: ‘Avoid Kalát, avoid Charam,
Though people should shower drachms upon thy head,
Because Farúd is with his mother there.
He is a hero of the Kaian race—
A warrior.’ Should he know vile Tús or why
The army marched? Of course he would attack,
And from the mountain slaughter many chiefs.
Why did inhuman and insensate Tús
March in such haste against that hold? Good sooth!
The Master of the sky no longer favoureth
Him and the host. The kindred of Gúdarz
Fared ill through him. Be he, his elephants,
And drums accursed. I gave him robes of honour
And gifts, and sent him forth to fight—my brother!
Away with chiefs like Tús son of Naudar!
May no such paladins be generals!
Alas! alas! the son of Siyáwush—
Farúd—with that stout heart, that mace and sword,
Who, like his sire, was slain though innocent,
Slain by my general and by my troops!
None know I worse than Tús, and he is ripe
For chain and pit. Brainless and veinless too
The wretch is as a dog to me.”

He writhed

With stricken liver to avenge his brother
And father's blood, dismissed the troops disgraced,

Wept his heart's blood, and shut to them the door
Of audience, being wounded to the soul
With anguish for Farúd. The warriors
Went sad and sorry to the court of Rustam,
And thus excused themselves: “God willed it so!
Who wished to fight Farúd? Still when the son.
Of Tús was slain the chieftains' heads grew dark
At that disgrace and, when his son-in-law
Rívníz fell too, misfortune's worst was done.
Who knew the name and bearings of Farúd,
And wished to wound him through our monarch's
heart?
Plead with the Sháh. Perchance he will refrain
From vengeance on the host. Was not Rívníz,
The son of Kai Káús, slain grievously
In fight as well—a younger son and warrior,
Dear to the father of moon-faced Khusrau?
Such is the issue that all battles have,
To this a crown, to that a narrow grave!”