The monarch asked the slaves: “Why doth Gulnár
Neglect the rule and come not to my pillow?
Is she offended with me?”

Thereupon

The chief scribe entered, saying: “Yesternight
Ardshír went off incontinent and took
A grey steed and a black steed from the stables—
The riding horses of the illustrious king—
Companioned by thy well-loved treasuress.”
The warrior-king much moved bestrode his bay,
Escorted by a host of gallant horsemen:
Thou wouldst have said: “He gooth over fire.”
Upon the road he saw a place of note
With many men and cattle, and inquired:—

“Did any hear the sound of hoofs ere day?
Did two pass on a grey steed and a black?”
One said: “Two passed on two steeds desertward,
And at their heels a goodly mountain-sheep,
Which kicked the dust up horse-like.”

Ardawán

Said to his minister: “Why ever went
The mountain-sheep with them?”

He made reply:—

“It is his Grace—the wings that will exalt him
To kingship through the favour of the stars.
If this sheep followeth him our task is lengthened.”
There Ardawán dismounted, ate, and rested,
Then hurried on. They followed up Ardshír,
And Ardawán in person led the way
With his wazír. Swift as a blast the youth
Rode with the damsel with no moment's pause,
But he who hath high heaven for his ally
Will take no harm from any enemy.
Ardshír at length, exhausted by the ride,
Beheld a pool of water from the height,
And as he rode said to Gulnár: “Since we
Have wedded toil, dismount we by this pool,
For steed and rider are alike fordone.
Repose we here and drink and start refreshed.”
Now when the twain had drawn anigh the water
Their visages as yellow as the sun,
And when Ardshír was fain to light him down,
He saw beside the watering-place two youths,
Who called out quickly: “There is need to ply
The reins and stirrup still for thou hast 'scaped
Thus far the breath and gullet of the Dragon,
And to drink water now will cost thee dear,
Yea even thy life.”

Ardshír, on hearing this,

Said to Gulnár: “Attend to what they say.”
He pressed his stirrups, gave his steed the reins,
And laid his glittering spear upon his shoulder.
Behind them Ardawán like rushing wind
Continued the pursuit with soul all gloom.
When half the day had passed, and while the
orb—
The lustre of the world—still paced the sky,
He saw a city—one in goodly case—
Whence many flocked to meet him, and he asked
The archimages: “When passed two on horse-back?”
Their leader said: “O prosperous, prudent king!
Just as the sun was growing pale, and night
Spread out the cloak of lapis-lazuli,

Two hurried through the city, soiled with dust
And parched with thirst, while after one of them
There came a mountain-sheep, and I have seen
None like it pictured in the palaces!”
Said the wazír to Ardawán; “Stop here,
Unless thou wilt return and get thee ready
Both soldiers and the implements of war,
Because the fashion of this strife hath changed
In that his fortune backeth him; to follow
Is but to grasp the wind. Write to thy son,
And tell him all. Perchance he may discover
Trace of Ardshír whom we must suffer not
To milk this mountain-sheep.”*

Now Ardawán,

On hearing this, knew that it was too late,
And so alighting at that city prayed
To God—the Giver of all good—for aid.