The drawer brought
A goblet filled with wine of ancient vintage,
And Rustam drank it to the king of kings;
He drained that golden fountain dusty-dry.
The young cup-bearer brought the cup again—
The same with royal wine replenishèd—
And matchless Rustam whispered to the boy:—
“We want no water on the table here.
Why dost thou mingle water in the cup,
And weaken this old wine?”
Said Bishútan
Thus to the server: “Bring a bowlful neat.”
He had the wine brought, summoned minstrelsy,
And gazed astound on Rustam.
When noble Rustam was all flushed with wine,
Asfandiyár said thus to him: “Live happy
While time shall last. May both the wine and meat
Agree with thee, and right be thy soul's provand.”
To him said Rustam: “Prince! may wisdom ever
Be thine admonisher. What wine soe'er
I drink with thee is good and nourisheth
My prudent soul. If thou wilt ban this strife,
Wilt magnify thy majesty and wisdom,
Wilt leave the plain and come to mine abode,
Wilt for a season be my joyous guest,
I will accomplish all that I have said,
And set before thee wisdom as a guide.
Pause for a while and strive not after ill;
Show courage and regain thy common sense.”
Asfandiyár, the hero, thus rejoined:—
“Sow not a seed that ne'er will grow. Tomorrow
Thou shalt behold the accomplishment of heroes
What time I gird my girdle for the fray.
Moreover do not glorify thyself;
Go home and fit thee for tomorrow's work.
Thou shalt perceive that in the ranks of war
I am the same as in my revelry.
Attack me not upon the battlefield;
Hear mine advice; go not about to fight.
Thou shalt see prowess greater than my words;
Let it not prove a cause of grief to me.
Accept of all the counsel that I give:
Submit to fetters at the Sháh's command
What time we quit Zábul and seek Írán,
And come before the monarch of the brave.”
Then grief made Rustam ponder, and the world
Was like a wood before his eyes. He thought:—