“Glory is bound to the back of the steeds; victory on the day of horrors, lives in the sword; never rises the battle dust on the day of fight, but my pliant spear assists me. How many sand-clouds have I penetrated, fearless of calamities, when the faces of black and white swoon in terror! How many horsemen fly from the encounter of arms when the war-dust rises; they fly and are repulsed: then rush I into the clanging war: my heart and my chest are hewn out of the solid rock. O thou lion-king, have thine eyes beheld the exploits of the horsemen of the desert, when the foe attacked us to spoil us of our cattle? then I cut down their chief on the desert: I raised him up on my nobly-serving sword: he was dashed from his saddle, and his cheeks crushed on the earth. I am thine, O thou King of all the earth, and thy fame shall be spread over every land. Ye are the Princes of Jezeemah, and whoever presumes to resist ye, shall quickly be destroyed and be dismissed from this world. Come on then—it is the lion who never drew his sword, but that every hero dreaded its encounter. The lions fear, and in their dens tremble at him; man also dreads him, and the dæmons of the waste. He shrinks not from the warriors, numerous as they are. I plunge into the war-dust, and the warriors charge against the combatants with swords that pierce through the throats. I swerve not from my purpose when I am resolved on it, till I accomplish every wish of my heart. I am indeed your slave, named Antar; to him the horrors of battle are welcome; he never faulters. Mayest thou, O King, live for ever! His like is not among the kings of the earth or the desert. May God ever preserve for me my father Shedad, for he is a support for me—nothing existing could recompense me for his loss, for he is my lord and chief. His glory is from the race of Abs, the seat of all honour and liberality.”
When Antar had finished his verses, King Zoheir and all present expressed the greatest pleasure. The King called him to him, and giving him a robe, thanked him. In the evening he returned with his father Shedad, and his heart bounded with exultation at the honours with which he had been favoured. And his passion for Ibla increased.
One day Antar rode out on one of the horses, in company with his brothers; they drove the herds till they came to the pastures, and there Antar remained to protect and tend them. Now Shiboob was an active sagacious fellow, and had a persuasive tongue, but he was the devil in the form of a man. In running he would outstrip a deer, and when he ran after a horse, he soon left it behind among the rocks.
Antar had great confidence in him at all times, and feared him more than any human being. Now it happened that the sons of Zoheir were assembled together at the invitation of their uncle Asyed the son of Zezimah, for in those days, people that loved each other frequently met, and shunned those they disliked. The Princes were riding out, and made choice of an eminence, where they halted and pitched their tents, and conversed till dinner was ready. They ate, drank, and laughed and sung, and joked away the time, whilst some of the damsels sang the following strain:
“Mix thy water in the cup of thy wine, and give me to drink, for truly I have mixed my tears with my blood. Let me drink of wine in the flower gardens to drive away sorrow, and quicken my joys. Every charm is combined in her form that lives like the soul that flows through my limbs; and whilst she bears the cup in her hand, she appears kindling the flame of my love. In the noon-tide sun she dances, and her face is spotted like the full moon of night with the star of the Gemini.”
They were seated and drinking: they were all much amused and pleased, and the old wine had its sway. Just then, Malik turned round his head and saw Antar and his brothers feeding the flocks and camels on a rising ground. Behold my friend Antar, honoured amongst the inhabitants of deserts and cities, said he to his brother, and he called to one of his slaves. Go to Antar, said he, and invite him to our party, that we may hear his discourse, and our enjoyment be complete. “How can you look upon this savage? exclaimed Shas, and think of such an ungracious wretch, and thus raise him amongst the chieftains of the tribe? On account of his verses, his consequence and power are extolled, and you bestow on him the highest dignity. But indeed, I feel inclined to rush at him, and tear his life out of his body, were I not afraid of the reproaches and reprimands of my tribe; and moreover, I should be sorry to interrupt the amusement of my brothers and companions. Indeed, my brother, your repeated admiration of him augments my aversion to him.”
Thus were they talking together, when on a sudden, a dust like a cloud arose among them, and there appeared three hundred valiant horsemen, like lions of the forest; and under them were steeds swifter than death. They were of the tribe of Cahtan, on a marauding party, to plunder the tribe of Adnan. And when they found these persons seated and drinking among the hills, they said one to another, Let us attack this party, that we may capture them in an instant, and convey them away to our country, for it is a wealthy tribe. Then bending their heads over their saddle-bows, they gallopped among them, shouting and hallooing—O by Cahtan!
When the sons of Zoheir saw this, they were surprised; they hastened to mount their horses and to gird on their swords. The foe poured down from the summit of the hill; they all at once shouted aloud—they rushed forward and plunged through the dust, assailing the horsemen of Yemen, like the ocean when it bursts and retreats. And when Antar heard their yells and screams, he feared lest the enemy would destroy them with their spears; and greatly was he alarmed for Malik and his brothers. He called out towards his own brothers, and went towards the party, among whom was a horseman whose name was Zatik, son of Maboob. Antar pounced down upon him, and piercing him, left him weltering in his gore. He then assailed his companions, and gave a shout like thunder when it roars. And there was not one that could see or hear; fear and trembling seized them; they beheld only Antar the lion! They fled, and the whole troop was dispersed and routed, till they all disappeared over the extended plains.
Antar returned to the princes, and shouted out to the horsemen that still remained assailing them; and as soon as they looked on Antar, an universal terror shook their frames, and their colour instantly changed; for they had seen him scatter heroes like seeds of rue, and trample carcases under his feet, leaving numbers dashed to the earth; and none could oppose but those accustomed to plunge into the battle dust. And as he engaged them he roared out these verses.
“The heights of glory are not attained but at the point of the spear, and patience in the day of battle through the heaviest difficulties, and the challenge of every lion-hero, and long-bearded warrior. Ask my horse of me, when flashes of fire fly from his hoofs. I have a spear-thrust that deals the most excruciating pain, and raises me above all competitors; and my Indian blade cuts through the nocturnal calamities whenever I draw it. I am the son of the black faced Zebeebah that tends the camels. I am a slave, but my fury o’erwhelms the lordly chiefs in the battle. As to death, should I meet him, I will not shrink from him when he appears to me—it is a draught I must inevitably take when the day of my dissolution arrives.”