Asfandiyár, when night was growing dark,
Arrayed himself again in fighting-gear,
Undid the chest-lids that more air might come
To those inside, and brought kabáb and wine
With other provand, battle-mail, and raiment.
When they had caten he supplied to each
Three cups of wine, which gladdened them, and said:—
“This night is one of bale. Hence we may well
Win fame. Put forth your powers. Quit you like men,
And from calamities make God your refuge.”
Then of those warriors adventurous
He formed three troops, one in the stronghold's midst
To combat any that they met, the second
To move upon the gate and take no rest
From strife and bloodshed, while he told the third:—
“I must not find hereafter any trace
Of those that revelled with me yesternight,
So take your daggers and behead them all.”
He went with twenty valiant men of war
In haste, committing to them other work,
Went boldly to the palace of Arjásp,
Arrayed in mail and roaring like a lion.
Humái, when these shouts reached her in the palace,
Came rushing with her sister Bih Afríd,
Their cheeks all hid by tears, to meet the chiefs.
Asfandiyár perceived that spring-like pair

As he approached. “Like flying dust-clouds speed,”
Thus spake that lion-man, “to my bázár
With all its wealth, for 'tis upon my way,
And wait till in this fight I lose my head
Or win a crown.”

This said, he turned from them,

And vengeful sought the palace of Arjásp.
He entered with an Indian sword in hand,
And slaughtered all the nobles that he saw.
The audience-chamber of that famous court
Was blocked, its floor was like a billowing sea,
So many were the wounded, stunned, and slain.
Arjásp awoke, was troubled at the din,
Arose in fury, donned his coat of mail
And Rúman helm, a bright glaive in his hand,
The war-cry on his lips and rage at heart.
Asfandiyár rushed from the palace-gate,
And, clutching with his hand a glittering sword,
Cried to Arjásp: “Now will this merchantman
Supply thee with a sword that cost dínárs.
I give it as a present from Luhrásp,
And on it is impressed Gushtásp's own seal.
When thou shalt take it thine heart's blood will flow,
And thy next stage will be beneath the dust.”
They closed in strife outrageous, foot to foot
With sword and dagger, striking whiles at waist
And whiles at head. Arjásp failed 'neath the blows;
He was a mass of wounds; his huge form sank,
And then Asfandiyár beheaded him.
Such is the fashion of life's changeful day!
Thou hast by turns its sweetness and its bane.

Why dote upon this Hostel by the Way?
Grieve not, thou canst not, as thou know'st, remain.
Asfandiyár, freed from Arjásp, commanded
To kindle torches and to fire the palace:
He raised its reek to Saturn. Having charged
The eunuchs with the womenfolk he carried
Them all away—the Lustre of the place—
And set a seal upon the treasury-door,
No one opposing him. He sought the stables,
He mounted there with Indian sword in hand,
And of the Arab horses bade his men
To saddle such as liked him. There went forth
A cavalcade of eight score warriors,
Approven horsemen on the day of battle.
He furnished mounts, moreover, for his sisters,
And marched forth from the court-gate of Arjásp,
But left a few Íránians, men of name,
With noble Sáwa in the hold. “When we,”
He said, “have gone outside the walls, have gone,
I and my noble warriors, to the plain,
Secure the gate against the Turkman troops,
And may my good star aid me. When ye think
That I have joined our noble troops outside,
Then-let the watchmen from the look-out cry:—
‘Blessed be the head and crown of Sháh Gushtásp.’
And when the Turkman troops come toward the hold,
In flight retreating from the battlefield,
Then ye shall throw the head of king Arjásp
Before them from the tower of the watch.”
The valiant hero rushed upon the plain,
And slaughtered all the Turkmans that he found.
As he approached the troops of Bishútan
They saw and praised him in amaze that he,
Who was so young, should show such bravery.