And so the lists of war and love arose, Wherein Eddetma with her suitor strove. Mailed in Chorasmian armor, helm and spur, On a great steed she came; Davidean crest And hauberk one fierce blaze of gems. The prince, Harnessed in scaly gold Arabian, rode To meet her; on his arm a mighty shield Of Syrian silver high embossed with gold. So clanged the prologue of the battle. As Closer it waxed, Prince Behram, who a while Withheld his valor,--in that she he loved Opposed him and beset him, woman whom He had not scathed for the Chosroës' wealth,-- Beheld his folly: how he were undone With shining shame unless he strove withal, Whirled fiery sword and smote the bassinet That helmed the haughty face that long had scorned The wide world's vanquished royalty, and so Rushed on his own defeat. For, like unto A cloud, that caverned the bright moon all eve, That thunder splits and, virgin triumph, there She sails a silver aspect, so the helm, Hurled from her head, unhusked her golden hair, And glorious, glowing face. By his own blow Was Behram vanquished. All his wavering strength Swerved from its purpose. With no final stroke Stunned stood he and surrendered: stared and stared, All his strong life absorbed into her face, All the wild warrior arrowed by her eyes, Tamed and obedient to her word and look. Then she on him, as eagle on a kite, Plunged pitiless and beautiful and fierce, One trophy more to added victories: Haled off his mail, amazement dazing him; Seized steed and arms, confusion filling him; And scoffed him forth brow-branded with his shame. Dazzled, six days he sat, a staring trance; But on the seventh, casting stupor off, Rose, and the straitness of the case, that held Him as with manacles of knitted fire, Considered--and decided on a way....