Then Rustam, that world-brightening paladin,
Departed from his sire and, treating night
Like day, made two days' journey into one,
Not giving Rakhsh repose. Now as his body
Failed him through lack of food he reached a plain
Where onager abounded, and urged Rakhsh
To whom their speed was slow: no beast could 'scape
From Rustam's lasso and his horse's feet.
The Lion with his royal lasso caught
A gallant onager and, striking sparks
Upon an arrow's point, enkindled fire
With stubble, thorns, and wood to roast the beast.
He ate the flesh and threw away the bones;
The onager itself was pot and tray.
He spied some pasture, slipped off Rakhsh's bridle,
Turned him out loose upon the meadow-land,
And made himself a couch within a reed-bed;
He deemed it safe though it was fear's own door,
For in it was a lion's lair; no elephant

Dared pluck a reed. One watch passed, then the lion
Came boldly forth and was amazed to see
An elephantine form among the reeds,
Reposing with a charger standing by.
“First,” said the lion, “I must maim the steed,
Then I can take the rider when I please.”
He sprang at glossy Rakhsh, who raged like fire
And lashed out at the lion's head, then fixed
His sharp teeth in its back and dashed the beast
To pieces by a shift that made it shiftless.
When Rustam, deft of hand, awoke and saw
How earth was straitened to that ravening beast
He said: “O foolish Rakhsh! who bade thee fight
A lion? Hadst thou perished 'neath its claws
Could I have carried to Mázandarán
My helmet, tiger-skin, bow, lasso, sword,
And massive mace? Had my sweet sleep been
broken
Thy combat with the lion had been brief.”
He slept and rested long, and when the sun
Rose o'er the darksome hills awoke still drowsy;
He rubbed down Rakhsh and saddled him, then prayed
To God, the Author of all good, for aid.