In these oncounters two weeks passed away,
And all the while the fighting grew more fierce.
Then brave Zarír advanced before the host,
Bestriding his huge chestnut, threw himself
Upon the encampment of the enemy,
Like blazing fire and wind amid the grass,
Slew, and dispatched them to their last repose:
None that beheld withstood him. Then Arjásp,
Perceiving that the prince had slaughtered many
Of name, cried loudly to his warriors:—
“What! will ye let Khallukh go to the winds?
We have been fighting for two weary weeks,
And still I see no prospect of the end.
The warriors of Sháh Gushtásp have slain
Full many a man of name among our troops,
And now Zarír is in the midst of you,
As 'twere a fierce wolf or a rending lion,
And he hath slaughtered all my followers,
My noble Turkmans and my men of war!
We must devise a remedy for this,
Or trudge back to Túrán, for if this man
Continue thus he will not leave Áyás,

Khallukh or Chín. What man of you in quest
Of fame will show among the troops, go forth
Man-like, alone, and compass world-renown?
I will bestow on him my daughter's hand,
And give to him the conduct of my host.”
The soldiers answered not a word, for all
Feared that Wild Boar. Immediately Zarír
The chief, the paladin of paladins,
Advancing as he were a furious wolf,
Fell on them like a maddened elephant,
Or lion, slaughtering and overthrowing.
Arjásp, beholding this, was so astound
That day turned dark to him. Again he said—
“O great, brave*

princes, warriors of Chín!
Regard ye not your kindred and allies,
Nor yet the wounded groaning 'neath the feet
Of one who is as a consuming fire,
With Sám's mace and the arrows of Árish,
Whose flames e'en now are burning up my host,
And scorching all my kingdom? Who is there
Among you all, one puissant of hand,
To go against yon maddened Elephant?
Whoever will attempt yon warrior-slayer,
And hurl him from his steed, upon that man
Will I bestow a treasury full of gold,
And raise his helmet higher than the sky.”
Still no man answered him a word. Arjásp
Was in amazement and his cheeks grew pale.
He spake the third time to the troops, but when
No answer came to him he held his peace.
At last the lusty Bídirafsh advanced—
The foul, that dog, that warlock, that old wolf—
And spake thus to Arjásp: “O mighty Sun,
In root and stem like to Afrásiyáb!

Thee have I brought my life and I have made it,
Sweet as it is, thy shield. I will confront
Yon raging Elephant. If I shall seize,
And fling him to the dust before the king,
Let me be leader of this countless host.”
Thereat Arjásp rejoiced, praised Bídirafsh,
Gave his own steed and saddle to that chief,
And therewithal a keen two-headed dart
Of steel that would have pierced an iron mountain.
That foul enchanter with the loathly form
Went toward Zarír, the leader of the folk,
But seeing from afar his fearsome fury,
His beard besoiled, his eyes fulfilled, with dust,
A mace like Sám the hero's in his hand,
And slain before him heaped up like a mountain,
Adventured not to face him openly,
But skirmished round him stealthily and hurled
Unseen at him the double-headed dart.
His royal mail was pierced, his kingly form
Bedrenched with blood. He tumbled from his steed.
Woe for that youthful, royal cavalier!
Foul Bídirafsh alighted, stripped the prince,
And bare off to the king the horse and girdle,
The standard and the goodly, jewelled crown,
While all the army shouted and paraded
The standard on an elephant. Gushtásp,
What time he looked forth from the mountain-top,
Saw not amid the dust that Moon of chiefs,
And said: “I fear me that the full-orbed Moon,
That ever gave a lustre to the host—
My valiant brother, glorious Zarír,
Who used to overthrow the angry lion—
Hath been dismounted, for the warriors
Have ceased from charging and the princes shout not!
Perchance that chief of nobles hath been slain.
Speed to the battlefield a mounted man
Toward yonder sable standard and discover
My royal brother's case, because my heart
Is full and seared for him.”

Thus fared the world's king

Till one, whose eyes poured blood-drops, came and said:—
“The Turkman horsemen wretchedly have slain
Thy Moon, the guardian of thy crown and host,
Him that was paladin of paladins—
Zarír the cavalier—for Bídirafsh,
The chief of all the warlocks of the world,
Hath overthrown him and borne off the standard.”
The world's king, hearing of that slaying, felt
Death visible. Down to the feet he rent
His robe, strewed dust upon his jocund crown,
And said to sage Jámásp: “What shall I say
To Sháh Luhrásp? How can I send to court
A messenger? How tell mine ancient sire?
Alas! that royal warrior! Alas!
Gone like the bright moon midst the clouds! Bring
hither
Luhrásp's Gulgún and set thereon my saddle.”
He made him ready to avenge his brother,
And carry on his Faith and precedent,
But “Pause!” said his experienced minister,
“Thy going to revenge is ill-advised.”
So, as that prescient minister enjoined,
The Sháh alighted and resumed the throne,
Thus saying to his troops: “What Lion is there
To take revenge for glorious Zarír,
And, urging forth his steed with that intent,
Retrieve my brother's saddle and his charger?
I swear before the Master of the world—
The oath of upright and of noble men—

That whosoe'er shall go forth from the army,
On him will I bestow But not a man came forward from the host,
And not a single warrior left his post.