For the morning which ushered in the great Festival of Roses dawned at last, and at a very early hour the whole city was astir. Now the beautiful golden throne, from which Zal and Rustem were to inspect the horses, had been placed just outside the western gate, and it was toward this Mecca that everybody hastened. Here also the ladies of Zabulistan were seated in the covered pavilion on the top of the wall, from which, without being seen, they could look down upon the passing show. And though still early, every available point of view was already crowded with a picturesque crowd of onlookers who discussed eagerly the possible choice about to be made by Rustem.
And finally, all being now ready, at a given signal the horses, which had already been brought together at a convenient spot, were led, one by one, through the long passage of armed men, directly before Rustem, the son of Zal. And the first to pass were those of the Zabulistan herds, strong, beautiful horses, many of them bred and reared with the one thought of their being chosen as the Prince’s steed of battle.
“O Mighty One, behold this beauty!” cried the foremost keeper enthusiastically unto Rustem. “Truly, never hast thou seen his like. Why, so swift is he that the wind is outstripped and put to shame in a contest with him, and yet he is so gentle that he will eat sugar from thy hand!”
Smiling at the keeper’s enthusiasm, Rustem stepped forward, replying unto him:
“A beauty he is truly, but Rustem must have strength as well as swiftness in his steed.”
Now, thus speaking, the Prince placed his hand upon the horse to see if it could stand that test. But the animal shuddered beneath his grasp and sank upon its haunches from the strength of the pressure, so that, crestfallen, his master was forced to lead him away.
And alas! so fared it with horse after horse brought forward, with those from the home pastures as well as those from the steppes, the mountain valleys, and the plains of the Oxus. Verily, not one of them could stand the mighty weight of Rustem’s hand.
Then came the long-bearded, venerable old sheik from the Euphrates, and he led forward the largest of his magnificent Arabs. And behold, so splendid was this courser that cries of admiration from all the spectators greeted his appearance, for seldom, even in that land of beautiful horses, had an animal been seen which was in every way so near perfection. Sure of success, therefore, the old sheik, smiling with satisfied pride, said unto Rustem:
“O Seeker after Perfection, verily I perceive that naught but a blameless steed will satisfy thee! Well, behold! here are beauty, and strength, and swiftness, and intelligence, combined with gentleness and affection. Step up, My Beauty, and greet thy future master!”
Now, at this, the magnificent creature stepped proudly forward, tossing his head and coquetting as if perfectly conscious of the admiration he was exciting. But alas! so high-spirited and mettlesome was he, that when Rustem quietly subjected him unto the same test that the others had undergone, he quailed and trembled, not so much because he could not bear the weight, as that it fretted his proud spirit to feel the weight of such an iron hand. So he also was led away.