deg.497
Never till now defiled, sank to the dust;
And Rustum bow’d his head deg.; but then the gloom deg.499
Grew blacker, thunder rumbled in the air, 500
And lightnings rent the cloud; and Ruksh, the horse,
Who stood at hand, utter’d a dreadful cry;—­
No horse’s cry was that, most like the roar
Of some pain’d desert-lion, who all day
Hath trail’d the hunter’s javelin in his side, 505
And comes at night to die upon the sand. 
The two hosts heard that cry, and quaked for fear,
And Oxus curdled deg. as it cross’d his stream. deg.508
But Sohrab heard, and quail’d not, but rush’d on,
And struck again; and again Rustum bow’d 510
His head; but this time all the blade, like glass,
Sprang in a thousand shivers on the helm,
And in the hand the hilt remain’d alone. 
Then Rustum raised his head; his dreadful eyes
Glared, and he shook on high his menacing spear, 515
And shouted:  Rustum deg.!—­Sohrab heard that shout, deg.516
And shrank amazed; back he recoil’d one step,
And scann’d with blinking eyes the advancing form;
And then he stood bewilder’d; and he dropp’d
His covering shield, and the spear pierced his side. 520
He reel’d, and staggering back, sank to the ground;
And then the gloom dispersed, and the wind fell,
And the bright sun broke forth, and melted all
The cloud; and the two armies saw the pair—­
Saw Rustum standing, safe upon his feet, 525
And Sohrab, wounded, on the bloody sand.

Then, with a bitter smile, deg.  Rustum began:—­ deg.527
“Sohrab, thou thoughtest in thy mind to kill
A Persian lord this day, and strip his corpse,
And bear thy trophies to Afrasiab’s tent. 530
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. 
And then all the Tartar host would praise
Thy courage or thy craft, and spread thy fame, 535
To glad deg. thy father in his weak old age. deg.536
Fool, thou art slain, and by an unknown man! 
Dearer to the red jackals deg. shalt thou be deg.538
Than to thy friends, and to thy father old.”

And, with a fearless mien, Sohrab replied:—­ 540
“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. 
For were I match’d with ten such men as thee,
And I were that which till to-day I was, 545
They should be lying here, I standing there
But that beloved name unnerved my arm—­