Gúdarz departed from the host and clomb
The mountain-summit. From the look-out came
A grievous cry: “The Íránian warriors
Are ruined now! As yon bright sun declined
The whole world eastward grew as dark as night
With dust, which standard-bearing elephants
Sent up, and through that dust the shining sun
Was lustreless!”

Gúdarz heard that and cried:—

“Dark earth is my sole hiding-place!”

His cheeks

Became as pitch, and like one arrow-pierced
He cried: “My share is ever strife and battle,
My lot ill-hap and bane for antidote.
I had a host of sons and grandsons, men
Reputed in the land, but all were slain
For Siyáwush, and all my luck hath gone!

I hope no more from life, my day is dark!
Would that my mother had not brought me forth,
High heaven ne'er turned o'er me!”

To the watch

He said: “Long-sighted man and bright of mind!
Look forth upon the hosts and see who cometh.
Where is the banner of the Íránian chief?
Look to our left and right.”

The watchman answered:—

“I see no movement and reconnaissance
On our side, but on theirs all is astir;
Of us thou wouldest say: ‘They are asleep.’”
Thereat the paladin shed bitter tears,
And cried in sorrow: “Saddle me my steed,
And for the future make my bed of brick!
I go to fill mine eyes and arms once more,
Embrace Shídúsh, Bízhan, Ruhhám, and Gív,
Those brave, impetuous cavaliers, kiss each
Farewell upon the cheek and shower tears.”
His gallant bay was saddled when there came
The watchman's shout: “Rejoice, world-paladin!
And banish care, for on the road that leadeth
Toward Írán a black, day-darkening dust
Ariseth; many standards like the moon
Are lifted from the centre of a host;
The first one hath a wolf, a moon the next,
The third a dragon with a lion's head
In gold upon the staff!”

“Then live for ever,

And may the evil eye be far from thee!”
Gúdarz exclaimed. “When what thou utterest
To such good purpose shall be brought to pass

I will bestow on thee such varied treasures
That thou shalt have no need to toil henceforth.
Hereafter, when we go back to Írán,
Some day, and to the monarch of the brave,
I will forthwith present thee at his throne,
And lift thy head above the nobles there.
Now prithee leave thy look-out-post, approach
Our generals, and tell what thou hast seen;
Be quick; use whom thou wilt upon the road.”
“I may not leave the look-out for the host,”
The watchman said, “but when 'tis grown so dark
That I can see no longer I will carry,
Like the Símurgh, the tidings to the troops
Down from my station here.”

The paladin

Rejoined: “Be shrewd of heart and bright of soul.
Look forth from this high mountain yet again,
And see how soon they will be here.”

He answered:—

“Yon host will reach Mount Hamáwan to-morrow
At dawn.”

The paladin conceived such joy

As would have brought a corpse to life.

Pírán,

For his part, swift as flying dust-clouds led
Those reinforcements*

to the battlefield.
A horseman went on first to tell at large
The joyful news which when Húmán had heard
He laughed and said: “Now surely sleepless fortune
Is with us.”

From the field a shout of joy

Rose cloud-ward from the army of Túrán.
The Íránian nobles full of care and pain,
With faces sallow and with livid lips,
Dispersed themselves upon the mountain-side
To give their last instructions. Everywhere
Groups gathered and bewailed themselves, and said:—
“Woe for these warriors of royal race,
Who are forgotten by the Íránians,

For now the lions' maws will be their tombs,
And earth be saturate with heroes' blood!”
The chief bespake Bízhan: “Arise, explore
This secret, scale the mountain-top and mark
The character and number of this host.
See by what road they are approaching us,
What camp-enclosures and what thrones they have.”
Bízhan the son of Gív then went apart,
And climbed the mountain's solitary peak,
Saw flags and horsemen, elephants and troops
On all sides, ran back to the general,
With heart all pain and soul all care, and said:—
“Earth's surface hath become like indigo,
So many are the troops and elephants!
The flags and spears pass count, the sun is dim
In heaven with dust, the troops are countless, boundless,
The ear is deafened by their kettledrums!”
Tús listened, sad at heart and face all tears,
Then called to him the captains, sorely grieved
A bout his men, and said: “Time showeth me
Naught but the woes of war. I have experienced
Full many a rise and fall, but never fear
Like this. We have but one resource: although
Our arms and troops are few we will get ready,
Attack to-night, and make earth a Jíhún
With blood. If we shall perish in the fray
There will be generals while there are kings:
Men shall not say: ‘He died ingloriously,’
Although they have to lay me in the dust.”
The leaders present all agreed thereto.
Now when the face of earth became like pitch,
When Venus, Mars, and Mercury were hidden,
And when the moon rose from the Sign of Pisces,
And to the navel rent the robe of night,
The watchman with a face like sandarach
Ran in to Tús and said: “O General!
The Shah hath sent an army from Írán!”
The leader Tús laughed with the other chiefs,
And said: “O men of name and warriors!
We need not now seek fight since aid hath come,
We have our times for haste and for delay.
The elephantine hero by God's strength
Will come to our assistance with this host;
Then on the Turkmans will we satisfy
Our lust, and our renown shall reach the sun.”
They thought no more about a night-attack;
The troops and leader joyed; the watchman made
Their spirits bright again, and young and old
Told those glad tidings. Tús sent forth his scouts,
Shouts and the clang of bells rose from the mount,
And all the folk, grown happy and soul-bright,
Talked of the chief of paladins all night.