but Zál endeavored to dissuade him from so hopeless an effort, saying,

"My son, be wise, and peril not thyself;
Black is his banner, and his cuirass black--
His limbs are cased in iron--on his head
He wears an iron helm--and high before him
Floats the black ensign; equal in his might
To ten strong men, he never in one place
Remains, but everywhere displays his power.
The crocodile has in the rolling stream
No safety; and a mountain, formed of steel,
Even at the mention of Afrásiyáb,
Melts into water. Then, beware of him."
Rustem replied:--"Be not alarmed for me--
My heart, my arm, my dagger, are my castle,
And Heaven befriends me--let him but appear,
Dragon or Demon, and the field is mine."

Then Rustem valiantly urged Rakush towards the Túránian army, and called
out aloud. As soon as Afrásiyáb beheld him, he inquired who he could be,
and he was told, "This is Rustem, the son of Zál. Seest thou not in his
hand the battle-axe of Sám? The youth has come in search of renown."
When the combatants closed, they struggled for some time together, and
at length Rustem seized the girdle-belt of his antagonist, and threw him
from his saddle. He wished to drag the captive as a trophy to Kai-kobád,
that his first great victory might be remembered, but unfortunately the
belt gave way, and Afrásiyáb fell on the ground. Immediately the fallen
chief was surrounded and rescued by his own warriors, but not before
Rustem had snatched off his crown, and carried it away with the broken
girdle which was left in his hand. And now a general engagement took