With head raised o'er the sun he girt his loins
For vengeance for his father, and set forth
Upon the day Khurdád right joyfully
With favouring stars and splendid auguries.
The troops assembled at his gate, his throne
Was lifted to the clouds. The first to go

Were baggage and provisions for the army
On buffaloes and high-necked elephants.
Purmáya rode with Kaiánúsh beside
The Sháh, like younger brothers and true friends.
He went like wind from stage to stage; revenge
Was in his head and justice in his heart.
The warriors on their Arab chargers reached
A spot where people dwelt who worshipped God,
And Farídún dismounting greeted them.
When night was darkening one in friendly guise
Approached him, walking with a measured tread,
With musky hair descending to the feet
And favoured like a maid of Paradise.
It was Surúsh, who came thence to advise
The king of good and ill, came like a fairy
And taught him privily the magic art,
That he might know the key of every lock
And by his spells bring hidden things to light;
While Farídún, perceiving that the work
Was God's not Áhriman's or come of evil,
Flushed like a cercis-bloom and joyed to see
How lusty he and his young fortune were.
The cooks prepared a feast—a noble banquet,
One fit for mighty men. Now Farídún,
The drinking done, being heavy sought repose.
His brothers, seeing that God sped his cause,
And that his fortune slumbered not, departed
Without delay to compass his destruction.
There was above their heads a lofty cliff
And underneath the Sháh slept peacefully.
His two abandoned brothers scaled the height
That night unseen, and scrupling at no crime
Set loose a mighty crag upon the brow
To fall directly on their brother's head,
And kill him in his sleep. The crashing crag,
For God so ordered, roused the slumberer,
Who by his magic art arrested it
In mid career: it stopped dead. Farídún
Went on his way but kept the matter secret.
In front marched Káwa with the Káwian standard,
Soon to become the ensign of the realm.
Thus Farídún advanced, as one who sought
A diadem, toward the Arwand, or call it,
As Arabs do, the Dijla, if thou knowest not
The ancient tongue. He marched another stage
And came upon the Dijla, at Baghdád.
On drawing near he sent to greet the guard
And said: “Despatch to this side instantly
Your boats and vessels, bear me across with all
Mine army and let none be left behind.”
The river-guard sent not his boats nor came
At Farídún's behest, but made reply:—
“The Sháh gave privy orders: ‘Launch no boat
Without a passport under mine own seal.’”
The prince, enraged and fearless of the stream,
Girt like a king and bent upon revenge,
Plunged with his rose-red charger in the flood.
With one accord his comrades girt themselves,
Turned toward the stream, and on their brave, fleet steeds
Plunged over saddle-back. The warriors' heads
Reeled while their swift steeds struggled with the tide,
And with their necks emerging seemed to be
The phantom cohort of a dream. The warriors
Reached the dry land undamped in their revenge
And set their faces toward Bait al Mukaddas.
This men called when they used the ancient tongue
Gang-i-Dizhukht; to-day 'tis known among
The Arabs as “The Holy Place.” The fair
Tall palace of Zahhák was builded there.
When they approached the city that they sought,
And Farídún beheld it a mile off,
He saw a pile whose building towered o'er Saturn,
So that thou wouldst have said: “'Twill catch the stars!”
It shone like Jupiter in heaven; the place
Appeared all peace and love and happiness.
The hero recognised that seat of power
And springlike beauty as the Dragon's dwelling,
And said: “The man who reared a pile like that
From dust I fear me cottoneth with the world,
But still 'tis better to press on than tarry.”
This said he grasped his massive mace and gave
His fleet steed rein, and thou hadst said: “A flame
Shot up before the guards.”

He entered riding—

An inexperienced but valiant youth,
Who called upon the name of God—while they
That were on guard fled from him in dismay.