Meanwhile his horse, for speed and form renown'd, Ranged o'er the plain with flowery herbage crown'd, Encumbering arms no more his sides opprest, No folding mail confined his ample chest,[12] Gallant and free, he left the Champion's side, And cropp'd the mead, or sought the cooling tide; When lo! it chanced amid that woodland chase, A band of horsemen, rambling near the place, Saw, with surprise, superior game astray, And rushed at once to seize the noble prey; But, in the imminent struggle, two beneath His steel-clad hoofs received the stroke of death; One proved a sterner fate--for downward borne, The mangled head was from the shoulders torn. Still undismayed, again they nimbly sprung, And round his neck the noose entangling flung: Now, all in vain, he spurns the smoking ground, In vain the tumult echoes all around; They bear him off, and view, with ardent eyes, His matchless beauty and majestic size; Then soothe his fury, anxious to obtain, A bounding steed of his immortal strain. When Rustem woke, and miss'd his favourite horse, The loved companion of his glorious course; Sorrowing he rose, and, hastening thence, began To shape his dubious way to Samengán; "Reduced to journey thus, alone!" he said, "How pierce the gloom which thickens round my head; Burthen'd, on foot, a dreary waste in view, Where shall I bend my steps, what path pursue? The scoffing Turks will cry, 'Behold our might! We won the trophy from the Champion-knight! From him who, reckless of his fame and pride, Thus idly slept, and thus ignobly died,'" Girding his loins he gathered from the field, His quivered stores, his beamy sword and shield, Harness and saddle-gear were o'er him slung. Bridle and mail across his shoulders hung.[13] Then looking round, with anxious eye, to meet, The broad impression of his charger's feet, The track he hail'd, and following, onward prest. While grief and hope alternate filled his breast.