Of us she dreams not, nor of wounds, nor war." But Sohrab answer'd him in wrath; for now The anguish of the deep-fix'd spear grew fierce, And he desired to draw forth the steel, And let the blood flow free, and so to die-- But first he would convince his stubborn foe; And, rising sternly on one arm, he said:-- "Man, who art thou who dost deny my words? Truth sits upon the lips of dying men, And falsehood, while I lived, was far from mine. I tell thee, prick'd upon this arm I bear That seal which Rustum to my mother gave, That she might prick it on the babe she bore."[196-23] He spoke: and all the blood left Rustum's cheeks, And his knees totter'd, and he smote his hand Against his breast, his heavy mailed hand, That the hard iron corselet clank'd aloud; And to his heart he press'd the other hand, And in a hollow voice he spake, and said:-- "Sohrab, that were a proof which could not lie! If thou show this, then art thou Rustum's son." Then, with weak hasty fingers, Sohrab loosed His belt, and near the shoulder bared his arm, And show'd a sign in faint vermilion points Prick'd; as a cunning workman, in Pekin, Pricks with vermilion some clear porcelain vase, An emperor's gift--at early morn he paints, And all day long, and, when night comes, the lamp Lights up his studious forehead and thin hands-- So delicately prick'd the sign appear'd On Sohrab's arm, the sign of Rustum's seal. It was that griffin,[196-24] which of old rear'd Zal, Rustum's great father, whom they left to die, A helpless babe, among the mountain rocks; Him that kind creature found, and rear'd and loved-- Then Rustum took it for his glorious sign. And Sohrab bared that image on his arm, And himself scann'd it long with mournful eyes, And then he touch'd it with his hand, and said:-- "How say'st thou? Is that sign the proper sign Of Rustum's son, or of some other man's?" He spoke; but Rustum gazed, and gazed, and stood Speechless; and then he utter'd one sharp cry: "O boy--thy father!" and his voice choked there. And then a dark cloud pass'd before his eyes, And his head swam, and he sank down to earth. But Sohrab crawl'd to where he lay, and cast His arms about his neck, and kiss'd his lips, And with fond faltering fingers stroked his cheeks, Trying to call him back to life; and life Came back to Rustum, and he oped his eyes, And they stood wide with horror; and he seized In both his hands the dust which lay around, And threw it on his head, and smirch'd his hair,-- His hair, and face, and beard, and glittering arms; And strong convulsive groanings shook his breast, And his sobs choked him; and he clutch'd his sword, To draw it, and forever let life out. But Sohrab saw his thought, and held his hands,