advancing form; 515
  And then he stood bewilder’d; and he dropp’d
  His covering shield, and the spear pierc’d his side. 
  He reel’d, and staggering back, sunk to the ground. 
  And then the gloom dispers’d, and the wind fell,
  And the bright sun broke forth, and melted all 520
  The cloud; and the two armies saw the pair;
  Saw Rustum standing, safe upon his feet,
  And Sohrab, wounded, on the bloody sand.

[Sohrab says his fall will be avenged by Rustum.]

  Then, with a bitter smile, Rustum began;—­
  “Sohrab, thou thoughtest in thy mind to kill 525
  A Persian lord this day, and strip his corpse,
  And bear thy trophies to Afrasiab’s tent. 
  Or else that the great Rustum would come down
  Himself to fight, and that thy wiles would move
  His heart to take a gift, and let thee go. 530
  And then that all the Tartar host would praise
  Thy courage or thy craft, and spread thy fame,
  To glad thy father in his weak old age. 
  Fool! thou art slain, and by an unknown man! 
  Dearer to the red jackals shall thou be, 535
  Than to thy friends, and to thy father old.”

  And with a fearless mien Sohrab replied:—­
  “Unknown thou art; yet thy fierce vaunt is vain. 
  Thou dost not slay me, proud and boastful man! 
  No!  Rustum slays me, and this filial heart. 540
  For were I match’d with ten such men as thou,
  And I were he who till to-day I was,
  They should be lying here, I standing there. 
  But that beloved name unnerv’d my arm—­
  That name, and something, I confess, in thee, 545
  Which troubles all my heart, and made my shield
  Fall; and thy spear transfix’d an unarm’d foe. 
  And now thou boastest, and insult’st my fate. 
  But hear thou this, fierce man, tremble to hear! 
  The mighty Rustum shall avenge my death! 550
  My father, whom I seek through all the world,
  He shall avenge my death, and punish thee!”

  As when some hunter in the spring hath found
  A breeding eagle sitting on her nest,
  Upon the craggy isle of a hill lake, 555
  And pierc’d her with an arrow as she rose,
  And follow’d her to find her where she fell
  Far off;—­anon her mate comes winging back
  From hunting, and a great way off descries
  His huddling young left sole; at that, he checks 560
  His pinion, and with short uneasy sweeps
  Circles above his eyry, with loud screams
  Chiding his mate back to her nest; but she
  Lies dying, with the arrow in her side,
  In some far stony gorge out of his ken, 565
  A heap of fluttering feathers:  never more
  Shall the lake glass her, flying over it;
  Never the black and dripping precipices
  Echo her stormy scream as she sails by:—­
  As that poor bird flies home, nor knows his loss, 570
  So Rustum knew not his own loss, but stood
  Over his dying son, and knew him not.