Rustem to this reproach made no reply, But stood confused--meanwhile, tumultuously The legions closed; with soul-appalling force, Troop rushed on troop, o'erwhelming man and horse; Sohráb, incensed, the Persian host engaged, Furious along the scattered lines he raged; Fierce as a wolf he rode on every side, The thirsty earth with streaming gore was dyed. Midst the Túránians, then, the Champion sped, And like a tiger heaped the fields with dead. But when the Monarch's danger struck his thought, Returning swift, the stripling youth he sought; Grieved to the soul, the mighty Champion view'd His hands and mail with Persian blood imbrued; And thus exclaimed with lion-voice--"O say, Why with the Persians dost thou war to-day? Why not with me alone decide the fight, Thou'rt like a wolf that seek'st the fold by night." To this Sohráb his proud assent expressed-- And Rustem, answering, thus the youth addressed. "Night-shadows now are thickening o'er the plain, The morrow's sun must see our strife again; In wrestling let us then exert our might!" He said, and eve's last glimmer sunk in night Thus as the skies a deeper gloom displayed, The stripling's life was hastening into shade! The gallant heroes to their tents retired, The sweets of rest their wearied limbs required: Sohráb, delighted with his brave career, Describes the fight in Húmán's anxious ear: Tells how he forced unnumbered Chiefs to yield, And stood himself the victor of the field! "But let the morrow's dawn," he cried, "arrive, And not one Persian shall the day survive; Meanwhile let wine its strengthening balm impart, And add new zeal to every drooping heart." The valiant Gíw with Rustem pondering stood, And, sad, recalled the scene of death and blood; Grief and amazement heaved the frequent sigh, And almost froze the crimson current dry. Rustem, oppressed by Gíw's desponding thought, Amidst his Chiefs the mournful Monarch sought; To him he told Sohráb's tremendous sway, The dire misfortunes of this luckless day; Told with what grasping force he tried, in vain, To hurl the wondrous stripling to the plain: "The whispering zephyr might as well aspire To shake a mountain--such his strength and fire. But night came on--and, by agreement, we Must meet again to-morrow--who shall be Victorious, Heaven knows only:--for by Heaven, Victory or death to man is ever given." This said, the King, o'erwhelmed in deep despair, Passed the dread night in agony and prayer.