Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/113

Rh 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

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,

Because thou hast shamed 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 rushed

Together, as two eagles on one prey

Come rushing down together from the clouds,

One from the east, one from the west; their shields

Dashed with a clang together, and a din

Rose, such as that the sinewy woodcutters

Make often in the forest's heart at morn,

Of hewing axes, crashing trees,—such blows

Rustum and Sohrab on each other hailed.

And you would say that sun and stars took part

In that unnatural conflict: for a cloud

Grew suddenly in heaven, and darked the sun

Over the fighters' heads; and a wind rose

Under their feet, and moaning swept the plain,

And in a sandy whirlwind wrapped the pair.

In gloom they twain were wrapped, and they alone;

For both the on-looking hosts on either hand

Stood in broad daylight, and the sky was pure,

And the sun sparkled on the Oxus stream.

But in the gloom they fought, with bloodshot eyes

And laboring breath. First Rustum struck the shield

Which Sohrab held stiff out; the steel-spiked spear

Rent the tough plates, but failed to reach the skin,