Sám reached the court, alit and was received
In audience by the Sháh, at sight of whom
He kissed the ground, and then approached the presence;
While Minúchihr, encrowned with sparkling gems,

Rose from his ivory throne and made Sám sit
Beside him, showed the chieftain all observance
And questioned him at large and anxiously
About the Kargasárs, about his troops,
About the fierce dívs of Mázandarán.
The chief told all and said: “Live happy ever,
O Sháh! Ne'er may foe's malice touch thy life.
I marched upon that land of valiant dívs,
And such dívs too, like lions in the fight,
More swift than Arab horses and out-daring
The warriors of Írán! The fierce Sagsárs—
Pards in the fray—concerned at mine approach,
Sent up the battle-cry within their cities,
And all turned out to fight—a mighty host,
From mountain unto mountain naught but men,
So that the bright day vanished in the dust.
All eager for the fray they came upon me,
Came with a reckless rush! A panic fell
Upon my troops. ‘How shall I bear,’ I thought,
‘This anguish?” and I saw not; for the brunt
Had fallen then on me. I roared against them,
I whirled a mace that weighed three hundred mans* And urged mine iron steed. I came among them
And brained them till the foe was panic-stricken.
The grandson of the valiant worldlord Salm,
As 'twere a wolf, was foremost of them all.
The youth was named Karkwí, a lofty Cypress,
Descended through his mother from Zahhák.
The heads of nobles were but dust to him.
His army thronged like locusts or like ants
And hid dale, plain, and mountain. When the dust
Rose from that great host, and my troops turned pale,
I reared the mace whereof one blow sufficeth
And led the army on. I raised a shout
That made earth seem a millstone to the foe,
While all my host was heartened and resolved
To battle on. Karkwí, who heard my voice,
And blows down-crashing from mine iron mace,
Came like a monstrous elephant against me
To battle, carrying a mighty lasso,
And sought to catch me in its noose, but I
Was ware and moved me from destruction's path.
I took a royal bow and poplar arrows
With points of steel, and urging on my charger
To eagle's speed I showered shafts like fire
And deemed his helm pegged to his anvil head
Until I saw him coming mid the dust,
Like some mad elephant, with Indian sword
In hand. Methought, O Sháh! that e'en the moun­tains
Would cry to him for quarter! He pressed on,
And I held back to tempt him to come near;
Then, when he closed with me, reached from my grey,
Seized on the girdle of that mighty man
And like a lion wrenched him from his saddle;
Then like a maddened elephant I dashed him
Upon the ground so that his bones were shivered.
Their prince o'erthrown his soldiers fled the fight;
The vales and hills, the deserts and the mountains,
Were crowded everywhere, while of the fallen
Upon the field we reckoned up ten thousand
Of horse and foot. Troops, citizens, and horsemen
Were verily three hundred thousand strong;
But weighed against thy fortune what are foes
Confronted by a servant of thy throne?”
The Sháh, on hearing what his chieftain said,
Raised to the moon his glorious diadem,
Bade hold a festival and saw with joy
The world freed from his foes. The night passed quickly
In revelry and praises of the chieftain.
At dawn the Sháh held audience. Sám drew near
And having done obeisance sought to speak
About Mihráb and Zál, but was prevented
By Minúchihr, who said with angry looks:—
“Depart with chosen chiefs, burn Hindústán,
The palace of Mihráb, and all Kábul.
Let not Mihráb escape; he is a remnant
Left of the Dragon's seed, and filleth earth
With turmoil. As for his allies and kindred,
Smite off their heads, and purify the world
Of all the kith and kindred of Zahhák.”
Sám dared not speak, so wrathful was the Sháh,
But kissed the throne, then gently pressed his face
Against the famous signet and replied:—
“My conduct shall acquit the Sháh of vengeance.”
Then with his host he sought his own abode
On steeds that went like wind along the road.