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THE COMBAT
HE ceas’d, but while he spake, Rustum had risen, | |
| And stood erect, trembling with rage; his club | |
| He left to lie, but had regain’d his spear, | |
| Whose fiery point now in his mail’d right-hand | |
| Blaz’d bright and baleful, like that autumn-star, | 5 |
| The baleful sign of fevers; dust had soil’d | |
| His stately crest, and dimm’d his glittering arms. | |
| His breast heav’d, his lips foam’d, and twice his voice | |
| Was chok’d with rage; at last these words broke way:— | |
| “Girl! nimble with thy feet, not with thy hands! | 10 |
| Curl’d minion, dancer, coiner of sweet words! | |
| Fight, let me hear thy hateful voice no more! | |
| Thou art not in Afrasiab’s gardens now | |
| With Tartar girls, with whom thou art wont to dance; | |
| But on the Oxus-sands, and in the dance | 15 |
| Of battle, and with me, who make no play | |
| Of war; I fight it out, and hand to hand. | |
| Speak not to me of truce, and pledge, and wine! | |
| Remember all thy valor; try thy feints | |
| And cunning! all the pity I had is gone; | 20 |
| Because thou hast sham’d me before both the hosts | |
| With thy light skipping tricks, and thy girl’s wiles.” | |
| He spoke, and Sohrab kindled at his taunts, | |
| And he too drew his sword; at once they rush’d | |
| Together as two eagles on one prey | 25 |
| Come rushing down together from the clouds, | |
| One from the east, one from the west; their shields | |
| Dash’d with a clang together, and a din | |
| Rose, such as that the sinewy woodcutters | |
| Make often in the forest’s heart at morn, | 30 |
| Of hewing axes, crashing trees—such blows | |
| Rustum and Sohrab on each other hail’d. | |
| And you would say that sun and stars took part | |
| In that unnatural conflict; for a cloud | |
| Grew suddenly in Heaven, and dark’d the sun | 35 |
| Over the fighters’ heads; and a wind rose | |
| Under their feet, and moaning swept the plain, | |
| And in a sandy whirlwind wrapp’d the pair. | |
| In gloom they twain were wrapp’d, and they alone; | |
| For both the on-looking hosts on either hand | 40 |
| Stood in broad daylight, and the sky was pure, | |
| And the sun sparkled on the Oxus stream. | |
| But in the gloom they fought, with blood-shot eyes | |
| And laboring breath; first Rustum struck the shield | |
| Which Sohrab held stiff out; the steel-spik’d spear | 45 |
| Rent the tough plates, but fail’d to reach the skin, | |
| And Rustum pluck’d it back with angry groan. | |
| Then Sohrab with his sword smote Rustum’s helm, | |
| Nor clove its steel quite through; but all the crest | |
| He shore away, and that proud horsehair plume, | 50 |
| Never till now defil’d, sank to the dust; | |
| And Rustum bow’d his head; but then the gloom | |
| Grew blacker, thunder rumbled in the air, | |
| And lightnings rent the cloud; and Ruksh, the horse, | |
| Who stood at hand, utter’d a dreadful cry;— | 55 |
| No horse’s cry was that, most like the roar | |
| Of some pain’d desert-lion, who all day | |
| Has trail’d the hunter’s javelin in his side, | |
| And comes at night to die upon the sand— | |
| The two hosts heard that cry, and quak’d for fear, | 60 |
| And Oxus curdled as it cross’d his stream. | |
| But Sohrab heard, and quail’d not, but rush’d on, | |
| And struck again; and again Rustum bow’d | |
| His head; but this time all the blade, like glass, | |
| Sprang in a thousand shivers on the helm, | 65 |
| And in the hand the hilt remain’d alone. | |
| Then Rustum rais’d his head; his dreadful eyes | |
| Glar’d, and he shook on high his menacing spear, | |
| And shouted: Rustum!—Sohrah heard that shout, | |
| And shrank amaz’d: back he recoil’d one step, | 70 |
| And scann’d with blinking eyes the advancing form; | |
| And then he stood bewilder’d, and he dropp’d | |
| His covering shield, and the spear pierced his side. | |
| He reel’d, and staggering back, sank to the ground; | |
| And then the gloom dispers’d, and the wind fell, | 75 |
| And the bright sun broke forth, and melted all | |
| The cloud; and the two armies saw the pair;— | |
| Saw Rustum standing, safe upon his feet, | |
| And Sohrab, wounded, on the bloody sand. | |
| |
OXUS
BUT the majestic river floated on, | 80 |
| Out of the mist and hum of that low land, | |
| Into the frosty starlight, and there mov’d, | |
| Rejoicing, through the hush’d Chorasmian waste, | |
| Under the solitary moon;—he flow’d | |
| Right for the polar star, past Orgunjé, | 85 |
| Brimming, and bright, and large; then sands begin | |
| To hem his watery march, and dam his streams, | |
| And split his currents; that for many a league | |
| The shorn and parcell’d Oxus strains along | |
| Through beds of sand and matted rushy isles— | 90 |
| Oxus, forgetting the bright speed he had | |
| In his high mountain-cradle in Pamere, | |
| A foil’d circuitous wanderer—till at last | |
| The long’d-for dash of waves is heard, and wide | |
| His luminous home of waters open, bright | 95 |
| And tranquil, from whose floor the new-bath’d stars | |
| Emerge, and shine upon the Aral Sea. | |
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