"But Hârith approached, and said:
Of a truth thou hast seen how struck my lance,
And the blow was for a warrior mighty of prowess.
Death is better than separation from my beloved,
And my death this day, but not my disgrace.
"Then he struck the old man's son a mighty blow with his spear, and he fell from it, dead.
"Then said the old man to him, 'Give up her who is seated on the camel, O son of my brother! For I am not like these whom thou hast overcome.'
"But Hârith said, 'I will not give her up. Nor was it for this that I sought her.'
"Then said the old man, O son of my brother! choose for thyself. Wilt thou that I fight thee on foot, or that I charge thee on horseback?'
"So the young man took advantage of the choice and dismounted. And the old man also dismounted, and recited this poem:
I will not quail at the end of my life;
I hold my ninety years as a single month;
Warriors have feared me through all time;
While the sword endures backs shall be cleft.
"Then Hârith approached, and he also recited, saying:
