Avt'handil Sets Forth in Quest of the Knight
178.	DIONISI1 the wise, Ezros2 bear me witness in this: It is pitiable when the rose wherewith the ruby of Badakhshan is not to be compared, and whereto a reedstem serves as form, becomes covered with rime and frostbitten; wherever he wanders abroad he is wearied of abodes.
179.	AVT'HANDIL travelled over that plain at a flying pace, he left the bounds of the Arabs, he journeyed in foreign lands; but separation from his sun had taken away part of his life. He said: "If I were near her now I should not shed hot tears."
180.	FRESH snow had fallen, and, freezing on the rose, blasted it. He wished to strike his heart; sometimes he uplifted his knife. He said: "The world has increased my grief ninety, a hundredfold. I have gone away from all rejoicing, from harp, lyre and pipe."
181	THE rose separated from its sun faded more and more. He said to his heart: "Be patient!" Thus he fainted not wholly. He journeyed through passing strange places on his quest, he asked tidings of wayfarers, he was friendly with them.
182	AVTHANDIL, shedding tears which flowed to increase the sea, seeks him everywhere. The land seems to him a couch, his arm his pillow. He says to himself: "0 beloved, I am far from thee, my heart stays with thee; I lament, for thy sake death would be joy to me."
183	HE journeyed over all the face of the earth, he went thoroughly over it, so that beneath heaven was no place left where he had not been; but he met none who had heard tidings of him he sought; meanwhile three years save three months had passed.
184	HE arrived in a certain dreadful country, exceeding rough; for a month he saw no man, no son of Adam. Neither Vis nor Ramin3 saw such woe like unto his. By day and by night he thought of her, his beloved.
185	HE reached as a resting-place the slope of a great high mountain; thence appeared a plain which it would take seven days to cross. At the foot of the mountain flowed a river that could not be bridged; both sides were covered down to the water's edge with forests.
186	HE goes up, turns round and counts the time, the remaining days-he has two months left. He sighs at this, he rejoices not. "Alas! if the thing were revealed!" Again he is timid in heart by reason of this. No man can turn evil to good; none can be born again of himself.
187	HE became thoughtful; he stood to consider the matter.  He said to himself: "If I return thus, why have I spent so  much time in the field ? What can I dare say to my star,  how I have spent the days ? I have learned not even  gossip regarding him I seek.
188	"IF I return not, I must spend yet more time in the quest, if I can learn no tidings of him I seek; when the time agreed upon with Shermadin is past, his cheeks will be bathed in tears; he will go and tell the king whatsoever things are fitting.
189	"HE will tell him of my death, as I myself bade him. Then would there be mourning, weeping; bitter would the matter be for them. Thereafter should I return after travelling everywhere." On this he thinks, weeping, distressed in mind.
190	HE said: "0 God, why make Thy judgments crooked because of me ? Why, alas! should I have made such a journey in vain? Thou hast rooted up joys from my heart; Thou hast given griefs a nest there. All my days my tears will never cease."
191	THEN he said, "Patience is better," and communed thus with himself: "Let me not die a day too soon, cast not down my heart; without God I can do nothing, my tears flow in vain. No one can change that which is decreed; that which is not to be will not be."
192	HE said to himself: "Die, for thee it is better than shameful life. Thou wilt go back; T'hinat'hin, who brightens the sunny day, will meet thee; she will ask thee for tidings of that sun; what does groaning avail?" Thus thinking, he forthwith sets out for the reedy, watery edge of the wood.
193	"SURELY have I passed by in turn all beings under the sun, but regarding that man nought can I learn anywhere. Doubtless they who called him a Kadj4 spoke truth. Now tears avail me not; why should I weep in vain ?"
194	AVT'HANDIL descended the mountain, he crossed river and woods, he put his steed to a gallop towards the plain; the murmur of the water and trees annoys him; the power of his arms and his pride were spent; the crystal field with the jetty growth was beautiful.
195	HE resolved to return, he sighed and groaned; he turned towards the plain; he traced out the road with his eyes; for a month he has seen no human being anywhere; there were terrible wild beasts, but he hunted them not.
196	THOUGH Avt'handil was become wild with heartgroaning and sighing, yet he wished to eat, after the wont of Adam's race; he killed game with his arrow, with arm longer than Rostom's5; he alighted on the edge of the reedy ground and kindled a fire with a steel.
197	HE let his horse pasture while he roasted the meat. He saw six horsemen coming towards him. He said: "They look like brigands; else what good is to be found ? No other human being has ever been here."
198	HE took his bow and arrow in his hand, and went gaily towards them. Two bearded men were leading their beardless brother; his head was wounded, his heart had swooned from loss of blood; they wept and grieved; alas! his spirit was almost fled.
199	HE called out: "Brothers, who are ye? I took you for brigands." They replied: "Be calm, help us and put out the fire; if thou canst not help us, add grief to our grief, and make it complete; weep with us who need pity, scratch thy cheeks too."
200	AVT'HANDIL approached; he spoke to the men with the grieved hearts. They told him their story, speaking with tears: "We are three brothers, for this we shed bitter tears; we have a large fortified town in the region of Khataet'hi.6
201	"WE heard of good hunting ground, we went forth to the chase, countless soldiers accompanied us, we dismounted on the bank of a stream; the hunting pleased us, for a month we went not away; we killed wild beasts without measure in the plain, on the mountain and on the ridge.
202	"WE three brothers shamed the archers with us, so we three vied still one with another; 'I kill best, I am better than thou,' thus each pushed his claim with words; we could not manifest the truth, we wrangled, we strove with one another.
203	"TO-DAY we sent away the soldiers loaded with stags' hides. We said among ourselves: 'Let us judge truly who of us is mightier with his arm.' We remained alone, we were private, we killed in our own sight, we shot not before onlookers.
204	"WE had three armour-bearers with us; we ordered the soldiers to go away, mistrusting nought; we hunted over plain, through wood and den, we slaughtered the wild beast, and not even a bird flew up.
205	"SUDDENLY there appeared a knight, morose and gloomy of visage, seated on a black horse, black as Merani; his head and form were clad in a tiger's skin with the fur outside, and beauty such as his has ne'er been seen by man before.
206	"WE gazed upon his rays, we scarce could support the brightness, we said: 'He is a sun on the earth; we cannot say in heaven.’ We wished to seize him, we were venturesome and tried; this is the cause of our sighs, moans, weeping.
207	"I, THE eldest man, earnestly begged my younger brothers to give me this man to fight, my next brother praised his horse, this one only asked leave to conquer him. We granted him this as his due. As we went towards him he came forward unchanged, calmly and in beauty.
208	"RUBY mingled with crystal beautified the pale roses of his cheeks. His tender thoughts towards us turned to wrath, he explained nothing, neither did he let us go, he showed not any consideration for us at all, with his whip he ripened us who had spoken tartly to him.
209	"WE gave him over to our youngest brother, we elders kept back, he seized upon him: 'Stand!' Thus he spake to him with his tongue. The knight held no sword in his hand, so we moved away; he struck him on the head with his whip, we saw the blood flow indeed.
210	"WITH a stroke of his whip he cleft his head thus, like a corpse he became lifeless, like earth he was brought to earth; thus he humbled, levelled with the ground, him who had been audacious to him. Before our eyes he went away, bold, severe and haughty.
211	"HE turned not back again; he went away quietly and without haste. Lo! There he rides-look! Like the sun and moon." The weeping ones joylessly showed him far off to Avt'handil; there only appeared his black steed carrying along that sun.
212	BEHOLD, it befell Avt'handil that his cheeks need no longer be covered with snow from tears, since he had not passed so much time abroad in vain; when a man attains the thing wished for, when he must find what he sought, then need he no longer remember past woes.
213	HE said: "Brothers, I am a wanderer without a place. To seek that knight I have gone far from the home of my upbringing. Now from you I have learned what it was by no means easy to discover. May God never again give you cause to grieve.
214	"AS I meet my wish, my heart's desire, so even may God not let your brother suffer." He showed them his resting-place. "Go at your ease," said he, "give him repose in the shade, rest your weary selves."
215	THUS he spoke and went his way, he spurred on his horse, he flew like a hawk not hindered by the string, or like the moon meeting the sun, the sun apparelled in cloth of gold, for this cause he has extinguished his burning fires.
216	HE drew nearer, he bethought himself how he might contrive the meeting: "Senseless converse yet more enrages a madman. If a wise man would compass a difficult deed, he must not lose his presence of mind and tranquillity.
217	"SINCE your man is so unreasoning and dazed that he suffers not any to speak with him or look on him, if I go up we shall meet only to slaughter each other, either he will kill me or I shall kill him; he will be still more hidden."
218	AVT’HANDIL said: "Why should I suffer so many woes in vain ? Whatever he is, it cannot be that he has no nest; let him go whithersoever he will, whatever walls encompass him there shall I seek him if my powers fail not."
219	TWO days and nights they fared, one behind, one before, wearied by day and by night, eating no food; nowhere they paused, not one moment of time, from their eyes tears flowed, moistening the plains.
220	ONE day they travelled, and at eventide high rocks appeared. In the rocks were caves, in front a stream flowed down, it was not possible to say how many rushes were at the water's edge, tall trees whose tops eye could not reach rose high against the rock.
221	THE knight made for the cave; he passed the streams and rocks. Avt'handil alighted from his horse, he betook himself to the great trees, he climbed up to look, at the foot he tethered his horse, thence he watched; that knight went shedding tears.
222	WHEN the knight, the tiger-skin-clad, passed the woods, a maiden dressed in a black mantle came forth to the door of the cave, she wept aloud, her tears uniting with the sea; the knight dismounted, with his arms he embraced her neck.
223	THE knight said: "Sister Asmat'h, our bridges are fallen into the sea; we shall never, timely, come upon the track of her for whom fires burn us." Thus he spoke and beat his hands upon his breast; the tears rained down. The maiden swooned, he embraced her; they wiped each other's tears of blood.
224	THE forest became thicker from the tearing of their hair; each embraced the other, the youth the maid, and the maid the youth; they wailed, they lamented, the rocks reechoed their voices; Avt'handil gazed in wonder on their behaviour.
225	THAT maid composed her soul, she endured the wound of her heart, she led the steed into the cave, she took off its trappings, she unbuckled the knight, she ungirded his armour. They went in. That day they did not come out again.
226	AVT'HANDIL was surprised. "How am I to know this story?" said he. Day dawned. The maiden came forth clad in the same colour; she put the bridle on the black horse, she furbished it with the end of her veil; she saddled the horse, she carried the armour quietly, with no clattering.
227	IT was the custom, it seems, with that knight never to tarry longer. The maiden wept and beat her breast, she tore her thick hair; they embraced each other, he kissed her and mounted his horse. Asmat'h, already gloomy, became more gloomy still.
228	AVT'HANDIL once more saw near him the face of that man, his moustaches had hardly grown, he was without a beard. "Is it not the sun of heaven?" said he. He smelt the smell of the aloe wafted on the wind. For him the killing of a lion was just as easy as for a lion to kill a goat.
229	HE rode out the same road he had come in by the day before, he passed the rushes, he went beyond, far into the plain. Avt'handil gazed in wonder; secretly he was hidden in the tree. He said: "God has managed this matter exceeding well for me.
230	"HOW could God have done better for me than this? I will seize the maid, I will make her tell me the story of that knight; I shall also tell her all mine, I shall make her know the truth. I shall not smite the knight with the sword, nor shall I have to be pierced by him."