When one watch of the darksome night had passed
There rose a clamour from the plain in front.
The young prince, smiling on his charger, rode
Forth from the centre of the army vanward.
When he had ridden past the troops he saw
A deep, unfathomed river. Now a camel,
One of the caravan whose cameleer
Had kept it in the front, had tumbled in.
The chieftain seized and dragged it from the mud,
And that malignant Turkman of Chigil
Quaked. At the bidding of the prince he came—
That fell Gurgsár—both seared of heart and fettered.
“Base villain!” said the prince, “why hast thou used
This snake-like subtlety? Didst thou not say:—
‘Here thou wilt find no water, and the sun

Will burn thee up’? Why didst thou make out water
To be but dust and wouldst have wrecked the host,
Thou miscreant?”

He said: “Thy host's destruction

Would be as bright to me as sun and moon.
I get from thee but fetters; what should I
Wish but thy bale and loss?”

The chieftain laughed,

Stared, was amazed at him, but showed no wrath,
And said: “Gurgsár, thou man of little wit!
When I return victorious from the fight
Thou shalt be captain of the Brazen Hold:
Far be from me to harm thee. All the realm
Is thine if thou wilt give me honest counsel.
I will not hurt thy children, kith, or kin.”
Gurgsár grew hopeful at the words. In wonder
He kissed the ground and asked to be forgiven.
The prince replied: “Thy words are passed, but water
Hath not been turned to land by thy wild talk.
Where is the ford? Thou must direct us right.”
Gurgsár rejoined: “No arrow plumed and pointed,
When ironed thus, can find its way across.
Thou shalt work magic with the mighty stream
If thou wilt but unfetter me.”

The hero

Astonished bade to loose him, and Gurgsár,
When he had seized a camel by the halter,
Descended to the stream and at a spot
That was within his depth essayed the passage.
The soldiers followed him in single file.
Inflating at Asfandiyár's behest
Their water-skins forthwith, and binding them
Along the barrels of their beasts of burden,
They all plunged in. The host and baggage reached
Land, and reforming to the left and right
Marched till the Brazen Hold was ten leagues off.

The captain of the host sat down to meat,
The slaves attended him with cups of wine
And, at that mighty Lion's bidding, brought
His tunic, helmet, coat of mail, and sword.
In merry pin the hero gave command,
And when they brought Gurgsár thus said to him:—
“Now that thou hast escaped calamity
Good words and truthful will become thee well.
When I behead Arjásp and make rejoice
The spirit of Luhrásp; when I behead
Kuhram, who slaughtered Farshídward and troubled
My soldiers' hearts; behead Andarímán,
Who slaughtered eight and thirty of our chiefs
When he prevailed; when for my grandsire's death
I take revenge in all ways; when I make
The lions' maws their tombs and gratify
The Íránian warriors' lust; when I stitch up
Their livers with mine arrows and take captive
Their wives and children, shall I call thee glad
Or grieved thereat? Tell all thy heart to me.”
Heart-straitened, hostile both in speech and soul,
Gurgsár retorted: “How long wilt thou use
Such converse? Be accursed and justly so.
May every evil star control thy life,
Thy waist be cut asunder with the sword,
Thy gory body flung upon the dust,
The earth thy bed, the grave thy winding-sheet.”
Roused by his words, and raging at the oaf,
The prince smote with an Indian sword his head,
And clave him, crown to midriff. To the river
They flung him presently, and that malignant
Grew food for fishes. Then Asfandiyár
Gat on his steed, girt up his warrior-loins
In wrath, and mounted on a height to view
The hold. He saw a mighty iron rampart
Extending over forty leagues by three,
But saw not any earth or water there.
The wall was broad enough for cavaliers
To gallop round upon it four abreast.
Whenas Asfandiyár beheld that wonder
He heaved a sigh, and said: “I cannot capture
A place like that! I suffer for my sins.
Alas for all my fighting and my toil!
Repentance is the only fruit thereof.”
He looked around upon the waste and saw
Two Turkmans coursing with four hounds. Descending
With spear in hand he unhorsed both the Turkmans,
Brought them upon the heights and questioned them:—
“What is this splendid hold? How many horsemen
Are there within?”

They told about Arjásp

At large and of the hold. “Observe,” they said,
“How long and wide it is! One gate is toward
Írán and one toward Chín, while in it are
A hundred thousand swordsmen—all renowned,
Exalted cavaliers—yet all of them
Are slaves before Arjásp and bow the head
To his command and counsel. There is provand
Past all compute with stores of grain in case
Fresh food should fail, while if the monarch closed
The gates for ten years there is food enough,
Great though his host is, while, if he so willed,
A hundred thousand noble cavaliers
Would come to him from Chín and from Máchín.
He hath no need of aught from any one,
For he possesseth provand and defenders.”
They spake. His Indian sword the chieftain drew,
And put to death the simple-minded two.