Mihráb and Zál had news of what had passed
Between the Sháh and Sám, Kábul was moved,
And cries rose from the palace of Mihráb.
Now when Síndukht, Mihráb, and e'en Rúdába
Despaired of saving either life or goods,
Zál left Kábul, exclaiming as he went
With drooping mien yet resolute withal:
“The Dragon grim whose breath would burn the world
Must take my head off ere he touch Kábul.”
In great concern he hasted on his journey,
With much to think about and much to say.
News reached brave Sám: “The Lion's Whelp hath come.”
The troops bestirred themselves and got in readiness
The flag of Farídún. They beat the tymbals,
And chief and host went out to welcome Zál

With elephants whose backs were draped with banners
Of yellow, red, and violet. Zál, on seeing
His father's face, alighted and approached
Afoot, as did the chiefs of both the hosts,
And brave Zál kissed the ground. Sám spent a while
In converse with his son, who then remounted
His chestnut Arab, like a hill of gold,
While all the chiefs approached him in concern.
“Thy father is displeased with thee,” they told him;
“Make thine excuse and be not obstinate.”
He said: “I fear not, for man's end is dust.
My sire if sane will not unsay his words,
And if at first he speaketh angrily
Will after weep for shame.”

They reached Sám's court

With much good cheer. He lighted and gave audience
To Zál, who kissed the ground before his sire
With ruffled feathers,* offering praise while tears
Fell from his eyes and washed his rosy cheeks.
“Glad be the paladin's shrewd heart,” he said,
“And may his spirit be the slave of justice.
Thy falchion scorcheth adamant, earth weepeth
When thou art fighting. Where thy charger pranceth
The lagging soldiers haste, and verily
Where heaven hath felt the storm-blast of thy mace
It dareth not array its host. All earth

Is verdant with thy justice, and the spirit
Of wisdom is a seedling of thy stock.
All joy in thy just dealing; earth and time
Receive it at thy hands. So do not I;
I have no share though thine acknowledged kinsman.
I am the dust-fed nursling of a bird
And know no feud with any, and no fault
To give occasion to an enemy
Save this, that Sám the hero is my sire
And mine accomplishment beneath such birth.
Or ever I was born thou didst expose me
Upon the mountains, harrowing my mother,
And giving to the flames a thriving child.
I saw no cradle and no breast of milk,
I had no memory of any kindred,
For thou didst cast me out, deprive my heart
Of peace and tenderness, and strive against
The Maker, for who maketh white and black?
Now since the Maker hath provided for me,
And looked upon me with a Master's eye,
Skill, manhood, and a hero's sword are mine
And one friend too, himself the crown of chiefs,
The brave, wise, prudent monarch of Kábul.
I sojourned at Kábul by thy command
And mindful of thy counsel and thy pledge.
Thou saidst: ‘I ne'er will vex thee, but will bring
The tree that thou hast planted into fruit,’
Yet bringest this gift from Mázandarán,
And hastest from the Kargasárs to further
The ruin of my home: such is thy justice!
Behold, I stand before thee and expose
My body to thy wrath. Saw me asunder,
But utter not a word against Kábul.
Do as thou wilt; the power is all thine own,
But mischief to Kábul is done to me.”
The chief attended to Zál's words, then bowed
His head and answered:—“'Tis all true, and I
Have dealt with thee unjustly from the first
And given foes occasion to rejoice.
What thou hast asked me is thy heart's desire
And in thy trouble thou couldst find no rest;
Yet be not rash, let me despatch the business.
I will indite a letter to the Sháh
And send it by thy hand, my loving son!
The worldlord will not seek to do thee harm
When he shall see thy prowess and thy looks,
And I have wooed his heart and soul to justice.
If he shall aid us thou wilt be contented,
Because the lion always hath the power
To gain its ends, and everywhere alike
Can seize upon the quarry.”

Thereupon

Zál kissed the ground with many a benison.