The legions of Túrán, with dread surprise, Saw o'er the plain successive myriads rise; And showed them to Sohráb; he, mounting high The fort, surveyed them with a fearless eye; To Húmán, who, with withering terror pale, Had marked their progress through the distant vale, He pointed out the sight, and ardent said:-- "Dispel these woe-fraught broodings from thy head, I wage the war, Afrásiyáb! for thee, And make this desert seem a rolling sea." Thus, while amazement every bosom quell'd, Sohráb, unmoved, the coming storm beheld, And boldly gazing on the camp around, Raised high the cup with wine nectareous crowned: O'er him no dreams of woe insidious stole, No thought but joy engaged his ardent soul.
The Persian legions had restrained their course, Tents and pavilions, countless foot and horse, Clothed all the spacious plain, and gleaming threw Terrific splendours on the gazer's view. But when the Sun had faded in the west, And night assumed her ebon-coloured vest, The mighty Chief approached the sacred throne, And generous thus made danger all his own: "The rules of war demand a previous task, To watch this dreadful foe I boldly ask; With wary step the wondrous youth to view, And mark the heroes who his path pursue." The King assents: "The task is justly thine, Favourite of heaven, inspired by power divine." In Turkish habit, secretly arrayed, The lurking Champion wandered through the shade And, cautious, standing near the palace gate, Saw how the chiefs were ranged in princely state.
What time Sohráb his thoughts to battle turned, And for the first proud fruits of conquest burned, His mother called a warrior to his aid, And Zinda-ruzm his sister's call obeyed. To him Tahmineh gave her only joy, And bade him shield the bold adventurous boy: "But, in the dreadful strife, should danger rise, Present my child before his father's eyes! By him protected, war may rage in vain, Though he may never bless these arms again!" This guardian prince sat on the stripling's right, Viewing the imperial banquet with delight. Húmán and Bármán, near the hero placed, In joyous pomp the full assembly graced; A hundred valiant Chiefs begirt the throne, And, all elate, were chaunting his renown. Closely concealed, the gay and splendid scene, Rustem contemplates with astonished mien; When Zind, retiring, marks the listener nigh, Watching the festal train with curious eye; And well he knew, amongst his Tartar host, Such towering stature not a Chief could boast-- "What spy is here, close shrouded by the night? Art thou afraid to face the beams of light?" But scarcely from his lips these words had past, Ere, fell'd to earth, he groaning breathed his last; Unseen he perish'd, fate decreed the blow, To add fresh keenness to a parent's woe.