The Sháh was deep in love when news arrived:—
“Afrásiyáb hath come with five score thousand
Picked Turkman cavaliers.”

He grieved to quit

The banquet-hall for war, but called his lieges,
And said: “Of fire and water, earth and air,
In sooth God did not make Afrásiyáb,
But otherwise, who swore so great an oath,
And promised fairly with his tongue, yet now
Is gathering his men of war like dust,
And turning from his oath and covenant!
I must go seek revenge and dim his day,
Perchance destroy his influence in the world;
Else, sudden as the arrow from the bow,
He will array his host, o'ercome Írán,
And waste no little of its fields and fells.”
“What is an army for,” the archmages said,
“If thou must go in person to the fight?
What need to give such riches to the winds,
And ope the portal of so great a hoard?
Twice in thy haste thy throne's illustrious seat
Hast thou delivered to thine enemies;
Choose some good paladin renowned in war
To take thy place and execute revenge.”
The Sháh replied: “I see none here that hath
The rank or might to meet Afrásiyáb,
And therefore like a vessel o'er the water
Must I set forth myself. Depart, that I
May order matters with my counsellors.”
Then Siyáwush considered in his heart,
Made of his soul a very wood of thoughts,
And said: “I will conduct this war myself;
I will entreat the Sháh and ask this boon.
Perchance All-righteous God will set me free
Both from Súdába and my sire's distrust:
To snare so great a host will bring me fame.”

He girt himself, went to Káús, and said:—
“I am of rank to fight Afrásiyáb,
And will bring down his horsemen's heads to dust.”
The Maker's purpose was that Siyáwush
Should perish in Túrán by vile men's plots
When his ill day should come. The Sháh consented
To his request with joy, bespake him fair,
Bestowed on him new dignities, and said:—
“My gems and treasures are at thy disposal,
And thou mayst say the army is thine own.”
The monarch summoned elephantine Rustam,
And said to him with many gracious words:—
“An elephant hath not such strength as thou,
The Nile is not so bounteous as thy hand.
Thou art of world-renown and slow to speak,
Thou who wast fosterer of Siyáwush!
When mines of jewels are bound down with iron
They open when thou bindest up thy loins.
Now Siyáwush hath come with belted waist
And, like a savage lion, talked with me:
His object is to fight Afrásiyáb.
Go with him, keep him underneath thine eye;
When thou art watching I can go to sleep,
But when thou restest I must be alert.
Thine arrows and thy scimitar safeguard
The world: thou towerest o'er the moon in heaven.”
The peerless Rustam said: “I am thy slave;
To hear is to obey, for Siyáwush
Is as mine eye and soul, his crown's top heaven
To me.”
The Sháh applauded him: “May thy
Pure soul and wisdom ne'er part company.”