They parted and the air's face gloomed. Suhráb
Amazed the circling sphere. Thou wouldst have said:—
“Heaven fashioned him of war; he ceaseth not
A moment from the fray; his form is brazen,
His charger iron, and his spirit wondrous.”
Suhráb when night fell joined his troops. His loins
Were galled with battle but his breast was iron.
Thus spake he to Húmán: “This day the sun
Arose and filled the world with war and strife.
How fared ye with this gallant cavalier
Who hath a hero's heart and lion's claws?
What did he say and do? He proved my match!
How fared my troops with him? I hold him peerless,
Though old a Lion bent on war and strife.”

Húmán replied: “Thou bad'st us tarry here.
Just as we had made ready for the field
A warrior came and challenged us to combat,
Confronting all this mighty armament.
Thou wouldst have said: ‘He cometh fresh from wine
To venture all alone on such a struggle.’
He raised the dust of war on every side
And slaughtered many warriors of our camp,
Then turning round departed at full speed.”
Suhráb said: “He hath slain no man of mark
While I have slaughtered many Íránians,
And puddled with their blood the ground to clay,
While ye looked on. However, none opposed me;
'Twas well none did, for had a liou come
He would not have escaped my massive mace.
What is a tiger, pard, or mighty lion
Confronting me who with my spearpoint bring
Fire from the clouds? When warriors behold
My visage in its wrath their mail is shivered.
To-morrow morning ere it is high day
It will be seen which is the better man,
And by the Maker's name—the only God—
I will not leave a foe alive. Now spread we
The board with meat and wine, and cheer our hearts.”
When Rustam reached the host he questioned Giv:—
“What did Suhráb the daring warrior?”
Gív answered: “We ne'er saw one fight like him.
He rode up to our centre spear in hand,
And raging; there he challenged Tús, who wolf-like
Came forth and mounted. When Suhráb beheld him
Advancing with his lance he roared as 'twere
A lion in its rage, and with bent mace
Struck Tús upon the breast a mighty blow
That made his helm fall off. Tús turned and fled.
Then many others fought but none prevailed,
For only Rustam can contend with him.
I kept the good old rule of one to one.
When no more single challengers went forth
We let him have the field all to himself,
Whereat he left the centre for the right
And flourished in his glory here and there.”
Now Rustam sorrowed at the words of Giv
And went to Sháh Káús, who seated him
Upon the throne. Then Rustam told the Sháh
About Suhráb, his stature, and his mien:—
“None ever saw one of his tender years
So brave and lion-like. In height he reacheth
The stars; the earth can not support his bulk;
His arms and thighs are camel-like and larger.
With sword and shaft, with lasso and with mace.
We proved each other lustily in all ways
Until at last I said: ‘Ere now have I
Plucked from the saddle many a warrior,’
And laying hold upon his leathern belt
I put the buckle to a mighty strain,
And fancied: ‘I shall raise him from his saddle
And hurl him like the rest to dust.’ But though
The mountain-tops were rocking in the blast
That chieftain would not rock upon his seat,
And so I quitted him, for it was late,
The night was very dark, there was no moon;
But we intend to meet again to-morrow
To wrestle. All I can I will, but know not
Which will prevail. Still we shall learn God's purpose,
For victory and conquest are from Him
Who is the Maker of the sun and moon.”
Then Kai Káús replied: “God rend our foes
In pieces! I will pray to Him to-night
For victory o'er this vile, malignant Turkman,
Pray that thy withered hopes may spring afresh,
And that thy fame may reach the sun.”

Then Rustam:—

“Thy Grace will speed thy liege's whole desire.”
He went depressed and vengeful to his camp.
To him Zawára came with downcast soul,
And said: “How fared the paladin to-day?”
But Rustam first would eat, then washed his heart
Of care and charged his brother, saying thus:—
“Be vigilant and cautious. When I go
At dawn to fight that Turkman warrior
Lead out mine army and bring forth my flag,

My throne, and golden boots, and be before
My tent when bright Sol riseth. If I prove
Victorious in the fight I shall not loiter
Upon the battlefield, while if the matter
Have other ending make no lamentation
And be not downcast. Let not any of you
Go on the field or prosecute the war,
But go hence to Zábulistán to Zál,
Console my mother for my God-sent fate,
And say to her: ‘Set not thy heart upon me,
And be not always mourning for my death.
No one abideth in this world for ever,
Heaven had no pretext left to spare me longer.
I have slain lions, pards, dívs, crocodiles
Enough, and razed full many a wall and stronghold,
While no man had the upper hand of me,
Though he that mounteth on his steed and chargeth
Is simply knocking at the door of death.
What though a man outlive a thousand years
One road and one event are for us all.
Bethink thee of Jamshíd the exalted Sháh,
And Tahmúras the Binder of the Dív.
There was no monarch like them here below,
And yet at last God took them. As the earth
Remained not theirs I too must pass away.’
When she hath been consoled thus say to Zál:—
‘Abandon not the monarch of the world,
Fight for him valiantly and do his bidding.
We all, both young and old, are doomed to die;
No one abideth in this world for ever.’”
They rested after half the night had gone
In talk about Suhráb and him alone.