Zav had a puissant son by name Garshásp
Who sat upon the throne and donned the crown.
He ruled the world with majesty and Grace,
But tidings reached the Turkmans: “Zav hath gone
And left an empty throne.”

Afrásiyáb

Sent up the war-cry, launched his ships and made
For Khár of Rai, but no one brought to him
A greeting from Pashang, whose head was filled
With hate, his heart with strife. All wild with grief
For Ighríras, of throne and crown he recked not,
Would never look upon Afrásiyáb
And let the shining sword grow dull with rust;
Albeit messengers were sent to him
Month after month, but he denied himself,
And said: “Whatever prince were on the throne
A friend like Ighríras would profit him,
But thou art one to shed a brother's blood
And flee before the nursling of a fowl.
I sent thee forth to battle with the foe
And thou hast slain thy brother! I disown thee:
Thou shalt not look upon my face again.”
Thus matters fared awhile; at length the tree
Of bale bore colocynth. 'Twas in the year
Wherein Garshásp the son of Zav departed
That evil showed itself, for tidings reached

All ears: “The throne of king of kings is void.”
There came a message to Afrásiyáb—
A stone flung by Pashang: “Cross the Jíhún
And tarry not until yon throne be filled.”
Between Jíhún and plain of Sipanjáb
Afrásiyáb arrayed his armaments,
And thou hadst said: “Earth is a turning sky
Where Indian swords are shedding souls for rain.”
So sped that splendid army forth to war.
“There is a claimant for the throne of might,”
Such tidings reached Írán. The throne was void,
The outlook dark. Anon the streets and quarters
Were all astir, cries rose from all the land
And men turned toward Zábul. The world was filled
With strife and folk spake bitterly to Zál:—
“Thy handling of the world hath been too lax.
Since thou hast held Sám's place as paladin
Our minds have not been joyful for a day.
When Zav departed and his son was Sháh
The hands of evil men were kept from ill.
Now seeing that Garshásp hath passed away
The world is Sháhless and the army chiefless.
A host hath crossed Jíhún, men cannot see
The sun for dust. If any shift thou knowest
Use it, because Afrásiyáb approacheth.”
Zál answered: “Since I girt the belt of manhood
No rider like me hath bestridden steed,
None hath essayed to wield my sword and mace,
And horsemen showed their cruppers, not their reins,
When I appeared. I have fought night and day
And all my life have dreaded growing old.
At length my back is bent, I wield no more
A falchion of Kábul; yet God be praised
That from my root a glorious shoot hath sprung,
Whose head will reach the sky, and thou shalt see
It grow in valour, Rustam being now
A straight-stemmed Cypress whom the crown of great­ness
Becometh well; but he must have a charger;
These Arab horses will not do for him.
I will seek out some elephantine steed,
Wherever there are herds, and say to Rustam:—
‘Wilt thou consent, consent with all thy heart
To gird thy loins to execute revenge
Upon the offspring of Zádsham?’”

Írán

Was glad of heart and blithe of face as Zál
Sent camel-posts to every quarter, armed
His cavaliers, and said to Rustam thus:—
“Mine elephantine son, a whole head taller
Than other men! a work of toil is toward
To break thy slumbers, quiet, and delights.
Thou art not yet of age to fight, my son!
But what of that? This is no time for feasting.
Yet with the scent of milk upon thy lips,
And with thy heart all set on sports and pleasures,
How shall I send thee to the battlefield
Against the Lions and the mighty men?
Now for thine answer, and may majesty
And goodness be thy mates.”

Then Rustam thus:—

“O noble prince, ambitious of renown!

Good sooth thou hast forgotten how I showed
My courage publicly. The paladin
Hath surely heard of the fierce elephant,
And Mount Sipand, and I shall lose my fame
If now I tremble at Afrásiyáb.
This is the time for fight and not for flight.
The overthrow of Lions, the pursuit
Of war, renown, and battle, fashion heroes;
But 'tis not so with women; their concern
Is food and sleep.”

Zál said: “O gallant youth,

The chief of princes and the warriors' stay!
My heart rejoiceth when I hear thee speak
Of that white elephant and Mount Sipand,
For truly since that fight was won with ease
Why fear I for thee now? Afrásiyáb
And his designs deprive me of my sleep,
Yet can I send thee to contend with one
Who is a gallant king and loveth battle?
Now is thy time for feasts and twanging harps,
For quaffing wine, and tales of warlike deeds;
'Tis not thy time for warfare, fame, and strife,
Or sending up the earth's dust to the moon.”
He said: “I am not one for ease and revel.
'Twere base to pamper in luxuriousness
Such arms as these, and these long hands of mine.
What though the battlefield and fight be hard
God and victorious fortune are mine aids.
In battle thou shalt mark me how I go
Upon my ruddy charger through the blood,
And I will carry in my hand a cloud* That is of watered hue but raineth gore,
While from the substance of it flasheth fire:
Its head shall bruise the brains of elephants,
My quiver when I clothe myself in mail
Shall shock the world, and all the fortresses

That shall withstand mine iron mace's blows,
My breast and arms and neck, need never fear
An arbalist or catapult, or want
A bishop for their castellan. The rocks
Shall redden to their cores when I advance
My lance in fight. I need a steed hill-high
Caught by my lasso, up to weight like mine
In war, and not impatient of restraint.
I need a mace too like a mountain-crag,
For hosts will come against me from Túrán,
And when they come, though I should fight unaided,
Their blood shall rain upon the battlefield.”
The paladin was moved, and thou hadst said,
“He will pour out his soul.” He thus replied:—
“O tired of ease and revel! I will bring thee
The mace of Sám the cavalier, preserved
In memory of him, wherewith thou slewest
The elephant. Live ever, paladin!”
Zál ordered: “Bring the mace employed by Sám
In his campaign against Mázandarán
To this famed paladin that he may take
Our foemen's breath away.”

When Rustam saw it

He smiled with joy, called blessings down on Zál,
And said: “Thou art the chief of paladins;
But now, to bear my person, mace, and Grace,
I need a steed.”

Zál mused at what he said

And oft invoked God's blessing on his head.