Afrásiyáb had tidings: “Rustam cometh
To battle swiftly”—news that wrung his heart
While all his silken raiment turned to thorns.
He said: “Who can assay to combat Rustam?
Troops are enough, but where is a commander?
What man can go and challenge him to battle,
For havoc clingeth to his glittering sword?”
The host said: “Shun not fight with him so much,
For thou art one that in the dust of strife
Canst send the wave of carnage to the moon.
There is no stint of treasure, arms, and men;
Why let the quest of battle grieve thy heart?
Be not concerned because thou hast to fight
This cavalier; look at our gallant troops!
Grant him all iron and brave; he is but one.
Enough of him. Prepare the remedy
With thine own army, and bring down his head
From cloud to dust; that done, we need not fear
Sháh or Írán. Then Kai Khusrau, his throne,
The country of Irán and bough on tree
Will cease to flourish. Mark this noble host,
These youths war-worthy. We for land and child,

For wife and kindred, will give up our lives
Before we yield our country to the foe.”
Now when Afrásiyáb had heard those words
He put that ancient battle from his thoughts,*

Both for his fatherland and his own sake
He took a fresh resolve and made reply:—
“I will bring forth the implements of war
Since matters press, permit not Kai Khusrau
To rest upon his throne, glad and rejoicing
In fortune, but by long contention bring
The head of Rustam of Zábul to dust.
I will not spare my grandson or his troops,
But lay this quarrel with the scimitar.”
He gave commandment to array the host,
And march forth to new wars. The nobles blessed him,
And called the chiefs to vengeance. There was one,
A man of lion-heart by name Farghár,
Quick to discern the cage and shun the springe.
The king, who had observed and everywhere
Approved his feat of arms, put strangers forth,
And said to him: “O noble man! now seek
The Íránian host and spy on warlike Rustam.
Observe his horsemen's numbers and equipment,
And who of ours is acting as their guide.
Mark their war-elephants, their warriors,
And all about their host both good and bad.”
Farghár departed to his work as spy
Upon the Íránians, while the ambitious king,
Absorbed in care, denied himself to strangers,

And summoned his son Shída for consult.
“O thou,” he said, “who art endowed with wisdom!
When will thy troops be here to share thy cares?
Know that yon countless army, which hath come
With all those cavaliers to fight with us,
Is led by Rustam of the lion-heart,
Whose scimitar converteth dust to clay.
Kámús, Manshúr, the Khán of Chín, Gahár,
The glorious Fartús, Kundur, Shangul—
The king of Hind—an armament that stretched
Down to the river Indus from Kashmír—
Are slain or captive through the victory
Of lion-taking Rustam. Forty days,
With lulls at whiles, they fought but Rustam triumphed,
Dragged with his lasso from their elephants
Our warriors and bound them. Cavaliers
And nobles from all climes, the mighty leaders,
The arms and ivory throne, steeds, crowns, and camels
Dispatched he to Írán, and by that token
Is now invading us with his proud chiefs
And famous men. I shall not leave my throne,
Or much wealth here with fortune so inconstant,
But send my treasures, crowns, belts, golden torques,
And bucklers to the banks of the Almás:
This is no time for joyance, harp, and song.
I dread deft-handed Rustam, who is safe
E'en in the gullet of a crocodile;
He is not human on the day of battle,
He writheth not when hit nor crieth out
For pain, he feareth not spear, sword, and arrow,
Or maces raining from this ancient sky!
‘He is of brass and iron,’ thou wouldst say,
‘And not of man's face but an Áhriman!’
So mighty are his arms on days of fight
That earth's back wearieth with the weight thereof!
He weareth chain-mail, breast-plate, tiger-skin,
And helm; he roareth like a thunder-cloud!
Huge elephants sustain not his attack,
Or ships upon the azure sea*

his weapons!
The Mountain under him is swift as wind,
And, thou wouldst say, ‘begotten by the sky.’
Swift as gazelle and terrible as lion
It goeth gallantly at height and river,
And would, I dare affirm, fare like a ship
If put upon its mettle. Oft have I
Contended with its rider, but his breast-plate
Is made of leopard-skin, which foiled my weapon
Though I tried ax and arrow many a time;
But now by way of proof I will to war
Once more to see if fortune favoureth us,
And so if God affordeth us His aid,
And if high heaven revolveth as we would,
We will not leave Írán or Sháh: perchance
It may be mine to terminate this feud,
While should the might of Rustam's hand prevail
I will betake me o'er the sea of Chín
Betimes and leave these marches of Túrán
To him.”

Then Shída answered: “Prudent king!

Live happily while crown and throne endure.
Thou hast Grace, wisdom, lofty mien, high birth,
And fortune, heart, and manhood, thou dost need
No monitor, yet heed this turn of fate:
Men like Pírán, Húmán, and Farshídward,
Kulbád and Nastíhan have had their armour
Destroyed, and their hearts shattered, in the fight:
Thou wouldst have said: ‘Their grief hath broken
them.’
Launch not thy vessel while these war-winds blow,
Since thou art ware that this great host hath come.

Thou art the warrior-king experienced
And tried in war; now by thy life and head,
By sun and moon, by throne and cap, I swear
This matter of Kámús and of the Khán
Hath filled my heart with pain, my head with venge-
ance.
Our business is to lead the host to Gang,
Not contemplating battle but to call
An army up from Chín and from Máchín,
And after that o'erthrow the enemy.”
When he had spoken he withdrew to rest,
Haste in his head and vengeance in his heart.
The dark night oped its melancholy eyes,
The moon had grown round-shouldered with distress,
And all the world resembled sable musk
What time Farghár came from the Íránian host.
He reached the presence of Afrásiyáb
By night—the time for quiet and repose—
And thus reported: ‘From this lofty court
I went to Rustam, binder of the Dív.
I saw a camp-enclosure green and vast
With cavaliers resembling ravening wolves.
A standard stood erect charged with a dragon;
Thou wouldst have said: ‘It is alive!’ There stood
Within the tent a huge, fierce Elephant,
Whose girded waist was like a tiger's loins.
Before him was a steed, a piebald bay;
Thou wouldest say: ‘It never taketh rest.’
The bridle hung down from the saddle-bow,
A coiled hide-lasso from the saddle-straps.
The chiefs were such as Tús, Gúdarz, and Gív,
And Faríburz, Gurgín, and brave Shídúsh.
Guráza is the scout with Gustaham
Accompanied by Gív and by Bízhan.”
The king grieved at the tidings of Farghár.
Then came one to Afrásiyáb to say:—
“Pírán the chieftain hath arrived like dust
With great men and with warriors of the fight.”
The king told what Farghár had said and asked:—
“Who is a match for Rustam in the fray?”
Pírán said: “What resource have we in war
Except the quest of glory on the field?
So let us struggle for our fatherland,
Our children, and our kin.”

Afrásiyáb

Thereat grew instant to engage and bade
Pírán march forth 'gainst battle-loving Rustam.
They left the presence and went forth to war
Upon the plain, shouts rose, the tymbals sounded,
The troops' dust turned the world to ebony.
So mighty was the host that thou hadst said:—
“The whole world will be hidden by the dust!”
The tymbal-players sent their din on high
As elephant on elephant filed by.