Afrásiyáb, when he had heard the message,
Repenting of his deeds of yore, betook him
Across the pathless desert, and resigned
The style of monarch to preserve his life;
But, seeing that his days were spent in pain,
Distress, and toil he made all haste to reach
Mount Ispurúz, and both by day and night
Avoided foes. His provand everywhere
Was game. Thus fared he till he reached the sea,
His loins all galled with travail, belt, and buckle.
Now when he reached that deep, whereto he saw
No middle and no end, he bade the shipman
Prepare a ship to carry him across.
The old Salt said: “Great monarch of Khutan
And Chín! although my years are seventy-eight
I ne'er saw ship cross hither.”

Said the mighty

Afrásiyáb: “Oh! well is he that dieth

By water, not by foeman's scimitar!
The world accepteth him as one not slain.”
He issued his commands to all the captains
To launch sufficient vessels and set sail
Toward Gang-dizh away from good and evil.
Arriving there he ate and slept in peace,
And rested from the fortunes of the war.
“We will be happy here,” 'twas thus he spake,
“And not concern ourselves about the past;
When my dim star hath brightened I will cross
The sea, take vengeance on my foes, and make
My policy and institutions flourish.”
When Kai Khusrau was made aware thereof—
The new departure of that ancient man—
He spake to Rustam thus: “Afrásiyáb
Hath crossed o'er to Gang-dizh, and thus made good
His words to me: ‘High heaven is with us.’
His crossing turneth all our toils to wind.
Ne'er will I hold a parley with my grandsire
Save with the sword, ne'er hold this feud outworn,
But in the might of God, the Conqueror,
Gird me to take revenge for Siyáwush,
Will cover all Makrán and Chín with troops,
And traverse the Kímák. When both Máchín
And Chín are mine I shall not ask Makrán
For aid, but bear, if heaven will favour us,
The host across the sea. Although the task
Prove long I yet may take that man of blood.
Ye have endured much travail, and have passed
O'er field and fell and cultivated tracts,
And yet to lay this travail on ourselves
Is better than to give our foes the world.
Our fame shall last until the Day of Doom
For conquest and for foemen put to flight.”
Thereat the paladins were sorely downcast,
Sighs were upon their lips, frowns on their brows.
“The sea is rough,” they said; “with all these troops
The business with fair winds would take six months!
Who knoweth which of us will 'scape the waters?
Afrásiyáb hath brought ill on the host:
On land we have to fight, and when at sea
Are in the gullet of the crocodile!”
Each had his plan, and after much debate
Thus Rustam spake: “Ye world-experienced,
Ye puissant princes, and ye veteran chiefs!
The toils that we have borne must not be fruitless,
Or made sport for the wind of indolence;
Moreover this victorious Sháh should gain
The fruit of his good star. We never halted,
Unless to fight, between Írán and Gang.
The Sháh would eat the fruit of all his toil;
For this he came, for this he will march on.”
Whenas the army heard the words of Rustam
They framed their answer in an altered tone.
The mighty men, the men of wisdom, rose
With tongues prepared to answer pleasantly,
And said: “We all are servants of the Sháh,
And he that hath our service hath our love.
Thine is it to command on land and sea;
We all of us are slaves and bound to thee.”