Afrásiyáb turned rein on seeing this,
And fled, like some dark cloud, pursued by Rustam,
Who thus exhorted Rakhsh: “My clever steed!
Lag not in battle-time, for I will slay
The monarch by thine aid and make the plain
Like coral with his blood.”

The fiery charger

Sped on so rapidly that thou hadst said:—
“His flanks have put forth wings!” Then Rustam
loosed
The lasso from the straps and aimed to catch
His foeman round the waist. The leathern noose
Fell on his helm; the Turkmans' leader snatched
His neck away; again the wind-foot steed
Beneath him sped like fire. Afrásiyáb
Escaped, but with wet cheeks and drouthy mouth,
While all his horsemen hurried after him
With spirits broken and with shattered arms.
He sped like wind and overpassed the stream
With stricken heart, his soldiers mostly slain:
He searched the world for honey and found poison.
Of treasures and of thrones, of crowns and girdles,
Of swords and jerkins, jewelry and helms,
Of noble steeds caparisoned with gold,
Of casques and scimitars with golden scabbards,

And other gear, great store fell to the Íránians.
They gathered all and left the field, rejoicing,
They did not strip the slain or seek the fallen,
But went back to the hunting-ground and took
All kinds of steeds and equipage. They wrote
To Sháh Káús to tell of hunt and fight,
And how they had not lost a warrior;
Zawára had been thrown and that was all.
The paladin remained two weeks with mirth
Upon the scene of triumph, on the third
They sought the Sháh and saw his glorious crown.
The custom of our Wayside Inn is so,
One man hath quiet and another woe.
In this wise or in that time passeth by;
Why should a wise man feel anxiety?
The legends of this matter now are told,
Such as have reached us from the days of old.