To pick a champion from the Persian lords
  To fight their champion—­and thou know’st his name—­ 210
  Sohrab men call him, but his birth is hid. 
  O Rustum, like thy might is this young man’s! 
  He has the wild stag’s foot, the lion’s heart. 
  And he is young, and Iran’s[23] chiefs are old,
  Or else too weak; and all eyes turn to thee. 215
  Come down and help us, Rustum, or we lose.”

[Rustum at first declines, but stung by the taunt of Gudurz he agrees to fight—­to be unknown by name.]

  He spoke; but Rustum answer’d with a smile:—­
  “Go to! if Iran’s Chiefs are old, then I
  Am older:  if the young are weak, the King
  Errs strangely:  for the King, for Kai Khosroo, 220
  Himself is young, and honours younger men,
  And lets the aged moulder to their graves. 
  Rustum he loves no more, but loves the young—­
  The young may rise at Sohrab’s vaunts, not I.
  For what care I, though all speak Sohrab’s fame? 225
  For would that I myself had such a son,
  And not that one slight helpless girl I have,
  A son so fam’d, so brave, to send to war,
  And I to tarry with the snow-hair’d Zal,
  My father, whom the robber Afghans vex, 230
  And clip his borders short, and drive his herds,
  And he has none to guard his weak old age. 
  There would I go, and hang my armour up,
  And with my great name fence that weak old man,
  And spend the goodly treasures I have got, 235
  And rest my age, and hear of Sohrab’s fame,
  And leave to death the hosts of thankless kings,
  And with these slaughterous hands draw sword no more.”

He spoke, and smil’d; and Gudurz made reply:—­ “What then, O Rustum, will men say to this, 240 When Sohrab dares our bravest forth, and seeks Thee most of all, and thou, whom most he seeks, Hidest thy face?  Take heed, lest men should say Like some old miser, Rustum hoards his fame, And shuns to peril it with younger men.” 245 And, greatly mov’d, then Rustum made reply:—­ “O Gudurz, wherefore dost thou say such words?  Thou knowest better words than this to say.  What is one more, one less, obscure or fam’d, Valiant or craven, young or old, to me? 250 Are not they mortal, am not I myself?  But who for men of nought would do great deeds?  Come, thou shalt see how Rustum hoards his fame.  But I will fight unknown, and in plain arms;[24] Let not men say of Rustum, he was match’d 255 In single fight with any mortal man.”

[Rustum arms; his appearance in the field brings joy to the Persians.]