Then Siyáwush called from the host Bahrám
And Zanga son of Sháwarán for counsel,
And having put forth strangers made both sit
Before him. They had shared his confidence
Since Rustam had departed from the host.
Then Siyáwush: “Ill fortune ever heapeth
Ill on my head. My sire's affection seemed
A tree all leaf and fruit; Súdába's wiles
Have made it, one may say, a biting bane.
Her bower became my prison, smiling fortune
Drooped, and as time went on her love bore fire.
Then I preferred war to inglorious feasts,
So I might shun the Crocodile's embrace.
Our good friend Garsíwaz was then at Balkh
With many troops, Afrásiyáb at Sughd
Was threatening us with five score thousand sabres.
We sped as 'twere a blast to seek the fray,
But when they left the province, sending gifts
And hostages, the archimages held
That we should quit the field. Now if the Sháh
Is merely fighting for aggrandisement
He may have war and territory too,
But why such wanton bloodshed, such revenge
Stirred up in others' hearts? The brainless head
Will ne'er know good from bad. Kubád came, died,
And left the world; from that time all was lost.
My deeds please not Káús, who fain would harm me,
Requiring me to fight without a cause.
I fear that I shall perish through mine oath,
But still we must not turn from God, or fear
To follow our forefathers' steps. The Sháh
Would rob me of both worlds, and yield me up
To Áhriman! If we should fight again
Who can foretell the fortune of the day?
Would I had died, or never had been born,
Since I am fated to endure such bale
And taste of every poison in the world;
And yet the tree hath not attained full growth
Whose fruit is venom and the leafage loss!
Such are the treaty and oaths sworn by God
That, if I swerve from what is right, disaster
Will come on every side; I shall be blamed
Deservedly. The world hath heard that I
Have treated with the monarch of Túrán.
Will God approve or fortune profit me
If I desert the Faith and fight again—
A fall from heaven to earth? I will go look
For some retreat to hide me from the Sháh.
Meanwhile the ordering of this bright age
Is in His hands Who is the Judge of all.
Do thou, famed Zanga son of Sháwarán!
Prepare for toil; haste to Afrásiyáb;
Give not thy head to sleep. The hostages,
And all the precíous things dínárs, crowns, thrones—
Convey to him and tell him what hath chanced.”
He charged Bahrám son of Gúdarz: “To thee,
Famed man! have I resigned the host and march,
Drums, camp, and elephants. Remain till Tús
The general shall arrive, then give to him
The treasures and the troops in perfect order,
Accounting unto him for everything.”
Bahrám was sorely troubled when he heard,
While Zanga son of Sháwarán wept blood,
And cursed the country of Hámávarán.
The two sat there together full of grief,
Distracted by the words of Siyáwush.
Bahrám said: “Nay, not so: thou canst not live
Without thy sire. Write to the Sháh and ask
To have the elephantine hero back;
Then, if Káús still biddeth thee, fight on;
'Tis but a trifle if not trifled with.
Or wouldst thou rest? It may be done with ease;
To beg thy father's pardon is no shame.
If thou wilt send the hostages to him
His heart and gloomy soul will smile; if thou
Art so concerned about them let them go,
There is no hostage for thyself. This letter
Commandeth war, and all may yet be well,
For if Káús doth bid us we will fight,
And bring our foes to straits. Think not vain thoughts,
But capture him by complaisance, and cause not
Bad times for us now that the tree of power
Is fruiting; fill not eyes and crown and throne
With blood, and shrivel not the royal tree.
Ill will befall throne, crown, host, camp, and court
Without thee, for the brain-pan of Káús
Is as a Fane of Fire, his war and letter
Are both absurd; but if heaven's purposes
Oppose my rede, why say I more?”

The prince

Refused the counsel of those two wise men,
So heaven willed. He said: “The Sháh's command
Is higher than the sun and moon to me;
Yet none from straws to elephants and lions
May brave God's word, and he that disobeyeth
Hath troubled wits and is beside himself.
Must I put forth my hand for shedding blood,
And lead two kingdoms into war? Besides
He is aggrieved about the hostages,
And will demand again what I refused;
While if I quit the field, returning home
Without a fight, the Sháh will be incensed
And in his fury harm me. If your hearts
Are troubled by my action heed me not;
I will be mine own guide and messenger,
And quit the camp-enclosure on the waste.
When one is no partaker in my gains
Why should he take to heart my pains?”

When thus

He spake the souls of those two chieftains withered;
They wept at dread of parting and consumed
As in fierce fire; they saw the evil eye
Of fortune secretly upon the prince,
That they would never look on him again,
And wept his case. Said Zanga: “We are slaves:
Love for our leader filleth both our hearts.

Now may our souls and bodies ransom thee,
And may our loyalty endure till death.”
The gentle, prudent prince replied to Zanga:—
“Go tell Afrásiyáb of what hath chanced.
Say: ‘Through this peace my lot is one of war:
Thine are the sweets, the pang and poison mine,
Yet will I keep my covenant with thee
Albeit I shall lose the throne of might.
God is my refuge, heaven my covering,
The ground my throne. I rashly disobeyed
And cannot face the Sháh. Give me a cistern
Where God appointeth and I may not hear
Aught of the evil nature of my sire,
But find for once a respite from his ire.’”