Descended from the champion Sám Súwár,
To be revenged on thee--the King of Persia
Being now a prisoner in Mázinderán."
When the accursed Demon heard the name
Of Sám Súwár, he, like a serpent, writhed
In agony of spirit; terrified
At that announcement--then, recovering strength,
He forward sprang, and hurled the mill-stone huge
Against his adversary, who fell back
And disappointed the prodigious blow.
Black frowned the Demon, and through Rustem's heart
A wild sensation ran of dire alarm;
But, rousing up, his courage was revived,
And wielding furiously his beaming sword,
He pierced the Demon's thigh, and lopped the limb;
Then both together grappled, and the cavern
Shook with the contest--each, at times, prevailed;
The flesh of both was torn, and streaming blood
Crimsoned the earth. "If I survive this day,"
Said Rustem in his heart, in that dread strife,
"My life must be immortal." The White Demon,
With equal terror, muttered to himself:
"I now despair of life--sweet life; no more
Shall I be welcomed at Mázinderán."
And still they struggled hard--still sweat and blood
Poured down at every strain. Rustem, at last,
Gathering fresh power, vouchsafed by favouring Heaven
And bringing all his mighty strength to bear,
Raised up the gasping Demon in his arms,
And with such fury dashed him to the ground,