Gúdarz and Tús suspected this; the chiefs
Were in dismay. Said old Gúdarz to Tús:—
“We must fight now. If we have three days' provand
We have not more, and not one road is open!
We have no tents, no huts, no baggage-train,
And this great host will starve! So, when the sun

Is wan of face and night's dark veil is seen,
Choose we brave cavaliers, descend the heights,
And try our fortune in a night-attack,
To perish one by one, or else to gain
The hero's crown. Such is the end of battles!
One hath the dust, another rank and glory.”
Tús hearkened to Gúdarz; his heart was full
Of pain and of the ancient feud. He bode
Till night appeared. The sun set; all was dark.
When one watch passed, and men had fallen silent,
Tús made him ready, called the men of action,
Gave one wing to Bízhan, one to Shídúsh
And bold Kharrád; the glorious flag he gave
To Gustaham with much advice and counsel,
Then, shouldering with Gív, Ruhhám, and others
The massive mace, made for Pírán and shocked
Like fire the Turkman centre. All the field
Grew like a sea of blood, a mighty shout
Rose from the host, the standard of Pírán
Was cloven, and his troops were panie-stricken.
Húmán, when he had heard that cry, bestrode
His Arab black, came up, saw many slain,
And many turning from the fight dismayed,
Wept tears of blood upon his breast, and shouted:—
“Was there no outpost here? Had ye no stomach
For fight? We are three hundred to their one;
It is ill sleeping on the field of battle!
Ho! out with sword and mace, and up with shield
Of Chín. Now that the moon o'er yonder height
Is drawing forth its sword, cut off the foe
On every side and let none, combatant
Or laggard, 'scape.”

Arose the clarions' blast,

The warriors pressed forward, and surrounded
The Iránian cavaliers like savage lions.
Sparks flashed from helm and sword: thou wouldst
have said:—
“The sky is raining maces from the clouds!”
Night, scimitars, and dust concealed the stars
And shining moon. Thou'dst said: “The Íránians
Are walled by coats of mail and in a murk
As of a sea of pitch!” Then to his men
Húmán exclaimed: “Enough! slay not the chiefs;
Bring me them captive and not arrow-pierced.”
They shouted back: “Their plight is hopeless now.
Lay on, lay on with mace and javelin,
And crown these chieftains' heads with crowns of blood.”
Then Tús said to Ruhhám and Gív: “Good sooth!
Our lives are but a jest! Unless the Almighty
Shall save our souls and bodies from this seath
We are but poised upon an eagle's wings,
Or struggling in the waters of the deep!”
Like savage lions leaping from their lairs
They charged together, while the sound of drum
And pipe and clang of Indian bells and gongs
Rose from the foe, men could not see their reins,
The horses' crests, or spear-points at their eyes.
“Ye have no room,” exclaimed Húmán, “for fight

Or flight, and evil fortune drave you forth,
That ill might reach the guilty.”

'Mid such strife

Abode that warrior-three with paltry powers!
Much thought they then of Rustam, everywhere
The prowest in the fray, and of Shídúsh,
Bízhan, and Gustaham, of great and small;
“Good sooth!” said they, “one of the Íránian host
Would help us here! We came not to a fight,
But madly to the maw of crocodiles!
Woe to the throne and portal of the Sháh,
For they will capture us anon! Great Rustam
And Zál are in Zábulistán! Írán
Will be destroyed!”

The din of mace and drum

Reached the Íránian host, and Gív and Tús
Returned not! Said Shídúsh and Gustaham,
The Lion: “Tús is long engaged!”

Guráza

Said to Bízhan: “Our leader's task is long!”
Anon the din of drums rose from the plain,
Air turned pitch-dark and earth to ebony.
The warriors made toward the voice of Tús.
The field ran blood. As they came up behind
All drew their massive maces. Tús, aware

That succour had arrived, roared tymbal-like,
Loosed rein, and pressed his stirrups, for he felt
His fortune rising, while Ruhhám and Gív,
Cheered by the voice of brave Bízhan, became
Like lions. Thus they fought till break of day,
Until the world's Light shone above the mountains,
Then they recalled the host and drew it off
Toward the rocky heights. The chieftain Tús
Harangued the troops: “From set of sun to drum-beat
Far from the noble be the evil eye,
And may our fighting end in festival.
I never heard of warriors displaying
Such gallantry as I have seen in you.
My first prayer is that Holy God will keep
Afar from us the eyes of evil ones.
He is my refuge evermore and He
Will take you out of this. I trust withal
In Him that presently and swift as smoke
An army may come up to our support.
Assuredly my speedy camel-post
Hath reached ere now the monarch of the world.
My letter will inflame his heart anew,
The elephantine chief will come to aid us,
And with a noble company of Lions.
We shall return in triumph, well content,
And eager to behold Khusrau again.
We will report to that triumphant world-king
All that hath passed in public and in private,
And through his kindness and his satisfaction
Obtain, each one of us, the fruits of fortune.”
Both hosts ceased fighting,*

breathed themselves, and
left
The battle drawn. On both sides scouts advanced
Upon that plain of valiant warriors.
Húmán came forth, saw corpses block the road,
And thus addressed Pírán: “Withdraw to-day;
The battle hath not answered our desires,
But when our warriors, approven horsemen,
And men have rested I will make a fight
Such as the sun and moon ne'er saw.”

They went,

Their converse done, each on his schemes intent.