Now when Gúdarz was drawing near Raibad
He chose him captains out of all the host—
A thousand valiant wielders of the spear,
Exalted and renowned, and furthermore
Ten famous horsemen of the Íránians,
All ready speakers well beseen in fight.
The chief next summoned Gív, told what the Sháh
Had said, and added this: “My prudent son,
Whose head is lifted over many a head!
I have selected for thee worthy troops—
Men who are chieftains in the provinces—
That thou mayst make a journey to Pírán
To speak to him and to receive his answer.
Thus say to him: ‘I with a host have reached
Raibad according to the Sháh's commands.
Thou knowest what thy words and deeds have been,
What peace and toil and trouble have been thine,
And how the country of Túrán hath girt,
With its illustrious kings, its loins for ill.
The glorious Farídún had cause to weep,
While in this world, for pain and misery,
Írán was full of pain, the Sháh of grief,
The moon shone not through mourning for Iraj.
Thou only of the people of Túrán
Dost pride thyself on kindness and good faith,
Though that word kindness is a lie with thee;
I see not peace and kindness in thy heart;

Howbeit that courteous Sháh of ours said thus
To me: “Address him with all gentleness,
For in the days of noble Siyáwush
He built no ill, and hath a claim upon me
As being guiltless of my father's blood.”
The Sháh condoneth all thy past misdeeds,
And holdeth evil on thy part as good,
Since thou hast wronged not any of our Sháhs.
Thou art not to be slaughtered by my hand
Because thy many faults are overlooked;
Else in this warfare with Afrásiyáb
Thy destiny would make short work of thee.
The great men of Írán and this my son
Will tell thee mine advice. Hold parle with them;
Then, if thou art persuaded, thou art quit
Of care and sure of life, thy land and kindred
Will flourish, and thy neck escape my sword;
But if the fault be thine thy life will be
In danger from the Sháh, and in this strife
We will not rest and sleep, my mace and I,
The field of battle and Afrásiyáb,
To take revenge on whom our sovereign
Hath no need to array a mighty host;
But if thou wilt attend to mine advice,
And wilt give credit to my prudent words,
Then first: all those that brought about the feud,
Those that rolled up their sleeves for shedding blood,
Put forth their hands to murder Siyáwush,
And wrecked the world by their unrighteousness,
Thou shalt dispatch to me in chains like dogs
That we may send them to the Sháh, for him
To take their heads or to forgive their crimes.
My Sháh, who is the warden of the world,
Hath given me a list of all their names.
Hast thou not heard that which the mighty lion
Said to the wolf—a pregnant utterance?
“Fate hath no place except the dust in store
For him whose hand hath shed a monarch's gore.’
Moreover all the treasures that thou hast
Are but the enemies of thy dark soul;
So thou shalt send to me thy noble steeds,
Thy gems, dínárs, brocade, crowns, scimitars,
Horse-armour, coats of mail, casques, Indian swords,
The equipment of thy troops, thy gold, and silver.
With that which thou hast gained by force or fraud
Thou mayst buy life and see the pathway opened
To safety. What is worthy of a king
Will I send to the monarch of the world,
And give the rest as booty to the troops
Instead of taking vengeance for wrong done:
And furthermore when thou shalt have dispatched
Thy favourite son—the guardian of thy throne
And signet—with those leaders of thine army,
Thy brethren twain, who ever lift their necks
Above the moon—all three as hostages
That I may feel assured—to this famed host,
Then will thy tree of honesty bear fruit.
Consider now and choose between two courses.
By taking one thou wilt approach the Sháh,
Wilt go with kith and kindred to Khusrau,
And rest beneath the shadow of his love,
Wilt put away that of Afrásiyáb,
And never even dream of him again.
I will give pledges to thee that Khusrau
Will raise thy head above the shining sun;
Thou knowest best the kindness of his heart,
And that he will entreat thee royally.
Or if from terror of Afrásiyáb
Thou art not willing to approach Írán,
Go from Túrán and lead thy troops to Chách,
Take thy teak throne and set thy crown on high;
But if thy heart is with Afrásiyáb
Depart to him and battle not with us,
For in regard to those with whom I strive
I have a lion's heart, a leopard's claws,
And I will leave the Turkmans naught of throne:
My bows are clouds that pour down showers of bane.
If thou wilt none of this but willest strife,
And thy head be all ill advice and guile,
Rise and come hither all equipped for war
If thou canst face the lion ravening.
When both the hosts shall be arrayed for battle
Will those in fault appear as innocent?
Nay, and unless thou hearken to my words
Thou wilt repent at last, but then repentance
Will profit naught, fate's sword have reaped thy head!’”
The paladin with these words charged his son,
“Repeat them to Pírán,” he said, “each one.”