It happened that one day without attendance
Bahrám went with the lutist to the chase.
Ázáda was the Rúman damsel's name;
Her cheeks were coral-hued. Bahrám had mounted
A dromedary with the noble*

Cypress,
Who had her lute in hand. She was his charmer,
His love; her name was ever on his lips.
For such occasions he required a camel,
And set thereon a housing of brocade,
While from it hung four stirrups. Thus he pricked
O'er hill and dale. Two stirrups were of silver,
Two were of gold, and all were set with jewels,
And furthermore he had beneath his quiver
A stone-bow; that brave youth was all-accomplished.
He came upon a pair of deer and laughing
Said to Ázáda: “O my Moon! when I
Have strung my bow and in my thumb-stall notched
The string, which shall I shoot? The doe is young,
Her mate is old.”

She said: “O lion-man!

Men do not fight with deer. Make with thine arrows
The female male, the agéd buck a doe,
Then urge the dromedary to its speed,
And, as the deer are fleeing from thy shafts,
Aim with thy cross-bow at one creature's ear
That it may lay its ear upon its neck,
And when the beast shall raise its foot to scratch
The ear that hath been tickled though not hurt,
Pin with one arrow head and ear and foot
Together if thou wouldest have me call thee
‘The Lustre of the world.’”

Bahrám Gúr*

set

The string upon his bow and caused commotion
Upon that quiet plain. Within his quiver
He had a double-headed shaft for use
While hunting on the waste and, when the deer
Sped off, he shot the buck's two horns away
Much to the girl's amaze. Forthwith the sportsman
Shot two shafts at the doe which struck her head
Just where the horns should be and furnished her
Therewith. Her breast grew red with blood. He rode
Toward her mate again, set in his stone-bow

A bolt, hit the buck's ear, and was well pleased,
For he had aimed thereat. The creature scratched
Its ear. Forthwith within his bow of Chách
He set an arrow and pinned head and ear
And foot together; but Ázáda's heart
Was vexed about the deer, and when the prince
Said: “When I hunt I bring them down by thousands
Thus,” she replied: “Thou art an Áhriman,
Else how canst thou shoot thus?”*

Bahrám stretched out,

Flung her from saddle headlong to the ground,
And made his dromedary trample her,
Besmearing hands and breast and lute with blood.
He said to her: “O thou lute-playing fool!
Why shouldst thou seek for my discomfiture?
If I had drawn mine arms apart in vain
My race had been dishonoured by the shot.”
When he had trampled her beneath his camel
He never more took damsels to the chase.*

Next se'nnight with a noble troop he went
Forth to the hunting-ground with hawk and cheetah,
And near a mountain saw a lion that tore
An onager's flanks. Impetuously he strung
His bow and notched therein a shaft three-feathered,
Then pinned both preyer's back and heart of prey
That underneath the blood-stained lion lay!