Upon the seventh day that comely Sháh
Arrayed his host as 'twere the turning sky,
The din of tymbals went up from the court,
And air grew ebon with the dust of troops.
He chose a force of Persians and set out
Toward Ázar Ábádagán. There passed
Two weeks what while by order of the Sháh
The soldiers concentrated at his camp.
He pitched it on the plain of Dúk; the army
Was great and under Rúman discipline.
He gave the whole host up to Niyátús,
Thus saying: “Thou art master of the flock,”
And thence with certain valiant cavaliers
Let his swift steed have rein and made toward
Khanjast—an anxious journey—till he reached
Mausíl, the Armenian, who could hold his own
Among the great and had with him Bandwí,
The Sháh's maternal uncle. Now these twain,
On hearing that Khusrau Parwíz was stirring,
Sped from the waste to meet him on the way,
Preceding their own troops. To Gustaham
The Sháh said, seeing them upon the road:—
“O warrior! two are hurrying o'er the field:

See who they are and wherefore in such haste.”
He answered: “Sure am I, O king! that he
Who rideth on the piebald is my brother,
The brave Bandwí: his friend is not of us.”
The Sháh said: “What! How canst thou know him? Nay,
Seek him in ward if living and if slain
Upon a gibbet in the riding-ground.”
Said Gustaham: “O Sháh! regard him well
From this side: 'tis thine uncle: let me die
For saying so if it prove otherwise.”
Afoot the twain approached the shady spot
Where was the Sháh, praised him and did obeisance.
He gave Bandwí a welcome and observed:—
“I said that I should find thee hid in dust.”
He told the Sháh all that had chanced to him,
His ruse of putting on the royal robes,
And all Bahrám Chúbína's clemency.
Khusrau Parwíz wept greatly at the tale,
Then asked him: “Who is this?”

“O sun-faced Sháh!

Hast thou no kindly welcome for Mausíl?”
He answered. “Since thou left'st Írán for Rúm
He hath not slept in lands inhabited,
But camped upon the plain, his palace been
Tent and pavilion. The troops with him
Are many; he hath all the gear of greatness,
With drachms and treasures. Now he hath been waiting
Upon the road and longed for thy return.”
“How came it,” asked the world-lord of Mausíl,
“That all thy toil was hidden? We will strive
To give thee happy days and make thy name
The greatest of the great.”

Mausíl replied:—

“Give me new life, O king! Let me approach
And kiss thy stirrup while I praise thy Grace
And splendour.”

“For these words,” replied the Sháh,

“I will make bright thy gains to pay thy pains,
Will grant thy wish and set thy name on high
Above the great.”

Then he withdrew one foot

Out of the stirrup, and that ardent soul,
All eagerness, kissed foot and stirrup both,
O'ercome by veneration for the Sháh,
Who, when that loyal liege was satisfied,
Bade him remount and urged his own steed on
Across that barren waste until he reached

Ázargashasp. With muttered prayer he entered
The Fire-fane, with an aching heart. A priest,
The Zandavasta in his hand, approached
The pious Sháh who, loosing from his loins
His golden belt, flung jewels on the Fire,
And in his prayers outdid the priest himself.
“Just Judge!” he said, “bring my foes' heads to dust.
Thou knowest that I justly plead and purpose
To keep the path of good. Approve not Thou
The injustice of the unjust.”

This said, he girt

His golden belt and sought the plain of Dúk
With wounded heart in trouble for his way:
Night fell ere he reached camp.

He sent shrewd spies

To learn the posture of the world's affairs,
And when the army of Nímrúz had heard:—
“The Sháh, the lustre of the world, hath come,”
They bound the drums upon the elephants,
And earth became as 'twere the river Nile.
All folk at that intelligence, which made
Them young again, drew near to give him aid.