And falsehood, while I lived, was far from mine. I tell thee, pricked upon this arm I bear That seal which Rustum to my mother gave, That she might prick it on the babe she bore.' He spoke; and all the blood left Rustum's cheeks, And his knees tottered, and he smote his hand Against his breast, his heavy mailËd hand, That the hard iron corselet clanked aloud; And to his heart he pressed the other hand, And in a hollow voice he spake and said: 'Sohrab, that were a proof that 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 showed a sign in faint vermilion points Pricked; 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 pricked the sign appeared On Sohrab's arm, the sign of Rustum's seal. It was that griffin, which of old reared Zal, Rustum's great father, whom they left to die, A helpless babe, among the mountain rocks; Him that kind creature found, and reared, and loved-- Then Rustum took it for his glorious sign. And Sohrab bared that image on his arm, And himself scanned it long with mournful eyes, And then he touched it with his hand and said:-- 'How sayest thou? Is that sign the proper sign Of Rustum's son, or of some other man's?' RUKSH THE HORSE