Then Gustaham sent to Ázargashasp
One with two roadsters to Khusrau Parwíz
In haste by night with tidings from Írán.
The messenger approached the youthful Sháh
(The moon was one night old) and told what he
Had heard of or had seen in that revolt.
The young prince paled like flower of fenugreek,
And cried: “Whoever quitteth wisdom's ways,
Obeying impulse through his lack of knowledge,
And fearless of the process of high heaven,
His life will profit not. If I found pleasure
In this thy tale of ill my food and sleep
Would turn to fire, but though, what time my father
Set hand to blood, I could no longer dwell
Within Írán yet I am still his slave,
And hearken to his words.”

All seared at heart

He marched his host as swift as fire for fear
Lest that world-winner, great Bahrám Chúbína,
Should get the start of him, and so he led
His men from Barda' and from Ardabíl,
Troop after troop, while from Armenia
A power sped with the Sháh's son swift as wind.
As soon as tidings of him reached Baghdád:—
“The claimant of the throne of might hath come,”
The folk were all contented, and thereby
The atheling accomplished his desire.
The great men of the city—those that shared
The general joy—went out to welcome him,
Then going to the dwelling of the Sháh
Discoursed at large, and he approved their words.
They set an ivory throne upon the dais
With golden torque and with a sumptuous crown
That many a Sháh had worn: it had beheld
No lack upon the state. Khusrau Parwíz
Made entry of the city mournfully,
And visited his father with a sigh.*