Now when ill-starred Shaghád had left Kábul
The monarch hurried to the hunting-ground,
And took a hundred sappers, men of note
Among the troops. They honeycombed the chase
With pits, arranging them beneath the rides,
And in them set haft-downward hunting-spears,
Swords, double-headed darts, and scimitars,
And made a shift to mask the openings
That neither man nor eye of beast might see them.
When Rustam had set forward in all haste
Shaghád dispatched a rapid post to say:—
“The elephantine hero hath come forth

Without an army. Come to him and ask
To be forgiven.”

The monarch of Kábul,

Pleas on his tongue and poison in his soul,
Came from the city and, on seeing Rustam,
Alighted from his steed, advanced a-foot,
Took off the Indian turban that he wore,
And clasped his naked head between his hands,
Drew off his boots and in his deep abasement
Made his eyelashes drip with his heart's blood.
He laid his cheeks upon the dusty ground,
Excusing his behaviour to Shaghád,
And saying: “If thy slave was drunk or crazy,
And seemed rebellious in his senselessness,
Vouchsafe to pardon this offence of mine,
And let me be anew as once I was.”
Bare-footed, dust on head, his heart all guile,
He went before the chief, who pardoned him
His fault, increased his standing, bade him cover
His head and feet, mount saddle, and proceed.
There was hard by the city of Kábul
A pleasant, fertile spot with wood and water,
And there they willingly encamped. The king
Provided provand lavishly and furnished
A pleasant banquet-house, brought wine, called minstrels,
And placed the chiefs on royal thrones. Thereafter
He spake to Rustam thus: “When thou wouldst hunt
I have a district where on plain and hill
Game throngeth. Wild sheep, onager, gazelle
Fill all the waste. One with a speedy steed
Will capture there gazelle and onager;
One should not overlook that pleasant place.”
Now Rustam grew excited at his talk
Of watered plain, of onager, and game,
For, when one's fate approacheth, anything
Will lead the heart wrong and pervert the mind.

This whirling world of ours behaveth thus,
And will not make its seerets known to us.
The crocodile in water, pard on land,
And battle-braving Lion deft of hand,
Are in death's clutch no less than ant and fly;
To tarry here transcendeth subtlety.
He bade to saddle the steeds and fill the waste
With hawks and falcons, cased his royal bow,
And rode out to the plain, he and Shaghád.
Zawára too was of the company,
And many another of their noble friends.
The retinue were scattered in the chase,
But all to quarters where no pits were digged,
While Rustam and Zawára took the path
Among the pits because Fate willed it so.
Rakhsh sniffed fresh earth, spun like a ball, and shied,
Suspicious of the smell, and tore the ground
To pieces with his iron shoes. Howbeit
That fleet steed picked his steps right warily
So as to make his way between two pits;
But Rustam's heart was filled with wrath at Rakhsh,
And fortune veiled discretion from his eyes.
He raised his hunting-whip and in his dudgeon
Lashed Rakhsh though lightly and thus flurried him
Just as, environed by the pits, he sought
To 'scape Fate's clutch. Two of his feet went through;
He had no purchase; all below was spear
And sword; no pluck availed; escape was none;
And so the haunches of the mighty Rakhsh,
And Rustam's legs and bosom, were impaled;
Yet in his manhood he uplifted him,
And from the bottom bravely gained the brim.