Sharp blade will cut; it pities not; no life is spared.
I sheathe my sword of argument,—will not make assault.
Lest muddlers read me wrong, and say ’tis I’m at fault.
We come now back again, to follow up our tale,
To keep our faith with readers, feminine and male;
And say again, the people rose up as one man,
Demanding who should work out our dead Vazīr’s plan.
One legion-captain forward came, out of the twelve,
That grieving people’s furrowed field anew to delve.385
Said he: “Behold! successor am I to the saint.