Once on a time was a boy of Asd Who became the king of the land at last, Born in Hamdán, a villager; The name of that village was Khamir. This lad in the pride of youth defied His friends, and they with scorn replied. None guessed his worth till he was grown Ready to spring. One morn, alone On Hinwam hill he was sore afraid.[59] (His people knew not where he strayed; They had seen him only yesternight, For his youth and wildness they held him light. The wretches! Him they never missed Who had been their glory had they wist). O the fear that fell on his heart when he Saw beside him the witches three! The eldest came with many a brew-- In some was blood, blood-dark their hue. 'Give me the cup!' he shouted bold; 'Hold, hold!' cried she, but he would not hold. She gave him the cup, nor he did shrink Tho' he reeled as he drained the magic drink. Then the second yelled at him. Her he faced Like a lion with anger in his breast. 'These be our steeds, come mount,' she cried, 'For asses are worst of steeds to ride.' ''Tis sooth,' he answered, and slipped his flank O'er a hyena lean and lank, But the brute so fiercely flung him away, With deep, deep wounds on the earth he lay. Then came the youngest and tended him On a soft bed, while her eyes did swim In tears; but he averted his face And sought a rougher resting-place: Such paramour he deemed too base. And him thought, in anguish lying there, That needles underneath him were.[60] Now when they had marked his mien so bold, Victory in all things they foretold. 'The wars, O As‘ad, waged by thee Shall heal mankind of misery. Thy sword and spear the foe shall rue When his gashes let the daylight through; And blood shall flow on every hand What time thou marchest from land to land. By us be counselled: stay not within Khamir, but go to Ẓafár and win! To thee shall dalliance ne'er be dear, Thy foes shall see thee before they hear. Desire moved to encounter thee, Noble prince, us witches three. Not jest, but earnest on thee we tried, And well didst thou the proof abide.' As‘ad went home and told his folk What he had seen, but no heed they took. On the tenth day he set out again And fared to Ẓafár with thoughts in his brain. There fortune raised him to high renown: None swifter to strike ever wore a crown.[61] * * * * * Thus found we the tale in memory stored, And Almighty is the Lord. Praise be to God who liveth aye, The Glorious to whom all men pray!"