No prompt reply from Persian lip ensued-- Then rushing on, with demon-strength endued, Sohráb elate his javelin waved around, And hurled the bright pavilion to the ground; With horror Káús feels destruction nigh, And cries: "For Rustem's needful succour fly! This frantic Turk, triumphant on the plain, Withers the souls of all my warrior train." That instant Tús the mighty Champion sought, And told the deeds the Tartar Chief had wrought; "'Tis ever thus, the brainless Monarch's due! Shame and disaster still his steps pursue!" This saying, from his tent he soon descried, The wild confusion spreading far and wide; And saddled Rakush--whilst, in deep dismay, Girgín incessant cried--"Speed, speed, away." Rehám bound on the mace, Tús promptly ran, And buckled on the broad Burgustuwán. Rustem, meanwhile, the thickening tumult hears And in his heart, untouched by human fears, Says: "What is this, that feeling seems to stun! This battle must be led by Ahirmun,[38] The awful day of doom must have begun." In haste he arms, and mounts his bounding steed, The growing rage demands redoubled speed; The leopard's skin he o'er his shoulders throws, The regal girdle round his middle glows.[39] High wave his glorious banners; broad revealed, The pictured dragons glare along the field Borne by Zúára. When, surprised, he views Sohráb, endued with ample breast and thews, Like Sám Suwár, he beckons him apart; The youth advances with a gallant heart, Willing to prove his adversary's might, By single combat to decide the fight; And eagerly, "Together brought," he cries, "Remote from us be foemen, and allies, And though at once by either host surveyed, Ours be the strife which asks no mortal aid." Rustem, considerate, view'd him o'er and o'er, So wondrous graceful was the form he bore, And frankly said: "Experience flows with age, And many a foe has felt my conquering rage; Much have I seen, superior strength and art Have borne my spear thro' many a demon's heart; Only behold me on the battle plain, Wait till thou see'st this hand the war sustain, And if on thee should changeful fortune smile, Thou needst not fear the monster of the Nile![40] But soft compassion melts my soul to save, A youth so blooming with a mind so brave!" The generous speech Sohráb attentive heard, His heart expanding glowed at every word: "One question answer, and in answering show, That truth should ever from a warrior flow; Art thou not Rustem, whose exploits sublime, Endear his name thro' every distant clime?" "I boast no station of exalted birth, No proud pretensions to distinguished worth; To him inferior, no such powers are mine, No offspring I of Nírum's glorious line!"[41]