And lasting vengeance o’er them sweep.
They rooted up my favorite tree,
But yet a branch remains to me.
Now the young lion comes apace,
The glory of his glorious race;
He comes apace to punish guilt,
When brother’s blood was basely spilt;
And blood alone for blood must pay;
Hence with your gold, depart, away!”
Now when the messenger heard these reproaches mingled with poison, he departed with speed; and when he was come unto Selim and Tur he had many ominous things to report unto them. And first he told of the glorious Minuchir who, with frowning brow, was only anxious for battle; of the mighty heroes bearing names that filled the world with wonder, who stood about him thick as flies; of the army so great in numbers and valor that the men of Roum and China could not hope to stand against them; and he told finally how that every heart in Persia was filled with hatred of them because of gentle Irij slain.