§ 8 How Húmán fought with Tús

Húmán bestrode and spurred his eagle-steed.
Thou wouldst have said: “He is an iron wall,
Or Mount Alburz in mail!” He came before
The host to fight and grasped a glittering spear.
Tús too advanced; earth rang with clarion-blare.

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“And so from luckless Wísa,” he exclaimed,
“A miserable Tree like this up-springeth!
Hast thou indeed come forth to fight since thou
Hast come forth mounted and with spear in hand?
By the Sháh's life and head I would oppose thee
Without my breastplate, mace, and Rúman casque,
Just like a pard that clutcheth at its prey
Among the mountains. Thou shalt see how heroes
Fight if thou venturest.”

Húmán replied:—

“Be not o'er-weening for it is not good.
Though fate hath come upon one luckless chief,
And by thy hand, hold not the rest in scorn.
Arzhang had deemed himself no man at all
If matched with me upon the day of battle.
But have the Íránian warriors no shame?
Doth not the warm blood boil in any breast
In that their leader hath to champion them?
Have their hands failed to fight? Where are Bízhan
And Gív—those noble ones—and where Gúdarz,
Son of Kishwád, that taker of the world?
If thou art paladin why hast thou left
The centre for the field? The wise will own not
Thy kinship and the sane will hold thee mad.
Go, hold up Káwa's standard; generals
Come not to fight in person. Look for one
On whom the Sháh bestowed a robe of honour,
Some warrior in quest of crown and signet,
And order him to battle with the Lion,
And bring the hand of the high-handed down.
Ill would befall this noble host of thine
If thou wert slain by me, thy troops become

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Abandoned, spiritless, and, if they lived,
Discomfited. Save Rustam son of Zál,
And Sám the cavalier, I see no noble
Like thee within Írán whose ancestors
Were men renowned and Sháhs. No need of army
If thou wilt fight in person! Go thy way
That some aspirant from the host may face me;
Besides, if thou wilt list to true advice,
Wherein my soul and heart confirm my tongue,
The bravest smart when they encounter me.”
Tús said: “Exalted man! I am the leader,
But am withal a horseman of the fray.
Thou art a leader of the Turkman troops
Thyself! Why then hast thou come on the field?
If thy heart will accept advice of mine
Seek, 'tis my counsel, for a league with me.
Come with the noble captain of thy host
Before the Sháh because, while one surviveth,
These troops will rest no jot from this revenge.
Give not thyself thus madly to the wind,
And may my counsel ne'er recur to thee.
Leave those who should be slain to fight with us,
For not one guilty shall escape our vengeance,
So act the wise man's part. The Sháh directed:—
‘Harm not Pírán. He is my foster-sire,
Experienced, and my friend. Strive not with him
Unjustly, wantonly, and see that he
Hear thine advice.’”

Húmán said: “Right or wrong,

When bidden by a king of glorious race,

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We must go forth: we have no remedy,
But must surrender all our heart to him.
Pírán himself desireth not this strife,
For he is noble, good, and generous.”
While Tús was parleying, the face of Gív
Resembled sandarach, he left the host
Like wind, “O Tús of glorious race!” he cried,
“A wily Turkman with his lips afoam
Hath come between the lines; why should he speak
So long with thee apart? Seek not the door
Of peace, speak only with thy scimitar.”
Húmán, on hearing, raged and said to Gív
Of sleepless fortune: “Wretchedest of all
The free! perish Gúdarz son of Kishwád!
Upon the day of battle at Ládan
Thou sawest me with Indian sword in hand
Where not one of his seed survived that read not
The inscription thereupon. For thee, thy fortune
Is like the face of Áhriman, and mourning
Is ever in thy house. If Tús slay me
Men still will use the mace and kettledrum.
Pírán is living and Afrásiyáb,
Who will avenge me promptly, but if Tús
Shall perish by my hand none of his troops
Will reach Írán. Bewail thy brothers' pangs,
Why railest thou at Tús son of Naudar?”
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“What wrath is this?” said Tús, “I am thy foe;
Come let us wheel about, begin the encounter,
And bend our brows in battle.”

Then Húmán:—

“All heads beneath a crown or helm must die.
Since death must come 'tis best upon the field,
And by the hand of some skilled cavalier,
A leader, prince, and ardent warrior.”
Then, grasping each his massive mace, they charged.
Earth reeled, day darkened, and a dust-cloud gathered
Above the scene of strife. Thou wouldst have said:—
“The night hath come on them by day, the sun—
The lustre of the world—is blotted out!”
Those mighty maces clashed and bent like bows
Of Chách, the ring of steel rose to the sky,
The wind of that contention reached the Shahd!
Thou wouldst have said: “Stone heads are in those
helms,
Those warriors' blows have blackened death's own face!”
They took in hand their Indian scimitars,
And sent sparks streaming out of stone and steel

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Till with the chieftains' might the trenchant blades
First bent, then shivered. Dust-smirched and athirst
Each warrior clutched the other's leathern belt,
And pressed with all his weight upon the stirrups,
But neither came to dust. Húmán's belt snapped.
He leapt upon a fresh steed while Tús took
His quiver, strung his bow, and set thereon
A poplar arrow. He began to shower
His shafts upon his noble foe and wheeled
To left and right as horsemen use to do.
The points of steel and eagle-plumes bedimmed
The mid-day sun, the world became as 'twere
Night's second watch, its face like diamonds.
Pierced by a poplar shaft Húmán's steed fell;
He raised his shield to save his face and head.
On seeing him afoot upon the field,
And holding not his own, the Turkman chiefs
Brought him a noble mount, but when Húmán
Had seated him upon the bark-lined saddle,
With Indian sword in hand, the men of name
And warriors all drew near to him and said:—
“It groweth dark, there is no time, and strife
Is over for the day. May evil eyes
Be far from thee and fighting end in feast.”
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Húmán the warrior turned his rein (Tús raising
His own lance to him), left the field, and sought
Pírán. A shout rose from the Turkman host:—
“How didst thou fare when face to face with Tús,
O warrior? Our hearts were full for thee!
God only knoweth what we felt!”

That Lion

Replied: “O brave and veteran warriors!
The day will bring us triumph, we shall take
Yon shining flag, all joy will be your portion,
And I shall have the stars of heaven for mine.”
Tús for his part was shouting through the night
Till cock-crow: “Is Húmán the man for me?
A raging lion should my foeman be.”