"The seventh is the Hadi. The awarder of prizes will give unto him his due.
"The Mouhammil, who gave such hopes to his master, has come in the eighth. He was mistaken. The unfortunate one encountered on his path the bird of ill omen. He suffered seven horses to pass before him and ran in the eighth—but the eighth horse is not one of the winners.
"The ninth arrives at last. He is the Lathim, the buffeted one, and receives blows from every one.
"On his traces follows, capering about, the Sokeït, the Silent one, with trouble in his face and humiliation on his forehead. The horseman who rides him at the tail of the others is the object of reproaches from all sides, and still more so his groom. It is of little use to ask who is his master,—no answer is to be had from those whom shame has made dumb.
"Whoso does not take to the race-course the horses that are most noble by birth ought to repent of it.
"In being present we have experienced the greatest gratification, without speaking of the glory and advantages we have carried off.
"In exchange for the seven reeds planted at the end of the course and carried off by the first seven as they arrived, we have received magnificent presents, such as it is seemly to offer.
"Striped calico from Yemen, dyed of various colours, and haïks of silk and of wool.
"We carried off all these stuffs spread out over our horses, with borders red as blood.
"In addition to all this they gave us silver coins by thousands, but this silver we never keep for ourselves. We distribute it among the servants who tend our horses, though we ourselves tend these with our own hands far more carefully than they do.