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Updated: June 2, 2025
"Indade!" answered one of the ten kings: "Bad luck to your spicimins!" says he. "Fwhat's that ye're tuggin. at?" asks a bystander. "Now the Holy Mother presarve your eyesight, Tim Coolin," answers St. Piran, pulling it in, "if ye can't tell a plain millstone at foive paces!
Every town laid waste, Soldier and peasant, husband, wife, and child, Sharing the miseries of a ravaged land!" With tears in his eyes and a heavy heart, Pírán repaired to the Khakán, who, after some discussion, permitted him in these terms to go and confer with Rustem. "Depart then speedful on thy embassy, And if he seeks for peace, adjust the terms, And presents to be sent us.
Khosráu was induced to liberate Tús from his confinement, and requested Rustem to head the army against Pírán, but Tús offered his services, and the champion observed, "He is fully competent to oppose the arms of Pírán; but if Afrásiyáb takes the field, I will myself instantly follow to the war."
This was objected to by Húmán, but Pírán was resolved upon the measure, and had several conflicts with the enemy without obtaining any advantage over them. In the mountain-fortress there happened to be wells of water and abundance of grain and provisions, so that the Persians were in no danger of being reduced by starvation.
"Fortune will still from Heaven descend, The god of victory is my friend." As soon as he took the field, Pírán thus addressed him: "Thou hast once, singly, defeated three hundred of my soldiers; thou shalt now see what punishment awaits thee at my hands. "For should a warrior be a rock of steel, A thousand ants, gathered on every side, In time will make him but a heap of dust."
Pírán, however, observed that he was too young to be a fit match for the experience and valor of the Persian champion, and would have dissuaded him from the unequal contest, but the choice was his own, and he was consequently permitted by Afrásiyáb to put his bravery to the test.
So far as site is concerned, this may be true enough; but the oratory, whose bare foundations are now surrounded by a sheltering rail, is probably at least two centuries later than the day of St. Piran, though it is just possible that the huge skeleton found here might be his. There is no reason why a saint may not also be a giant. But who shall establish the identity of a mouldering skeleton?
But there is a great industrial demand for dynamite in the district, and it is well that its production should be relegated to a neighbourhood where accidents would do the least possible damage. At Perranporth we approach a grim sand-driven tract of country sacred to the name of one of Cornwall's most typical saints, the Irishman St. Piran.
Piran, the patron saint of tinners, would hardly have called down such a curse, though he might have done so if greatly provoked. But if not metalliferous, much of the parish is exceptionally fertile and verdant, in contrast to the barrenness of the Goonhilly Downs.
When Afrásiyáb arose from sleep, he found his warriors in close and earnest conversation, and was told that a champion from Persia had come and killed the watchman, and carried off the prisoners. Pírán exclaimed: "Then assuredly that champion is Rustem, and no other."
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