The knight in the panther's skin, 1979

78. "I am the winner!”"No, I!”each laughingly said to the other. They were elated and merry as they happily sported and jested. Then the twelve men who carried the quivers stepped into their presence. "tell as the truth”, said the king, “which of as two is the victor?”

79. The men answered him:"Only the truth we will tell you. Avtandil stand alone. You are in no wise his equal. Slay us now, if you will, we would rather die than diceive you. Not a one beast could arise ater his arrow struk it.

80. "Between you were felled to the grownd more than one hundred score. But Avtandil's share, your highness , was one score higher than yours. None of his shafts fell short, but of yours, O, King, we have gathered Many which did no more than scratchthe earth that they fell on “.

81. Rostevan felt no more remorse to learn that his skill was outmatched By one he loved as a rose loves the nightingale's song. Avtandil's triumph was his own, and king banished grief from his bosom, Smiled and was glad once again, redy for joy and diversion.

82. Then each sat down in the shade of the trees on the bank of the stream; Countless as chaff were the hosts of warriors assembled before them. And the twelve archers were there, bravest among the brave. Their hearts full of Joy and light , as they gazed at the beauty around them.

HOW THE KING OF THE ARABS SAW THE KNIGHT IN THE PANTER'S SKIN

83. All at once they saw by the stream a stranger sitting and weeping. He held a black horse by the bridle and looked like a lion and a hero. His armour, saddle and bridle were thickly stidded with pearls. The rose was frosen by tears that welled up from his grief-stricken-heart.

84. Over his rich apparel was flung the skin of panther And the cap on his head was made from the selfsame panther's skin. The whip he grasped in his hand was thick as the arm of a warrior. The king and his hosts gazed with delight of wonderous stranger.

85. One of the king's attendants advanced to speak to the weeper, Who, with head bent low, seemed overwhelmed with his sorrow; But he drew mack in awe, he could not utter a word For from the swordsman's jet-black lashes, fell showers of grief.

86. The messenger dared not speak, but gazed in wonder and pity, Till at last he found the strenght to deliver the words of his master. "The king commands your presence”he said. The stranger did not hear him: Lost in his grief he wept, and knew not that any stood near him.

87. Deaf to the messenger's words and the clamorous shouts of the soldiers, Blind to the faces around him, wrapped in his lonely dejection, The stranger but sobbed the more and his tears, commingled with blood, Came rushing forth from his heart like waters from under a floodgate.

88. Surely his mind had drifted far from it's owners keeping; He knew nothing of time, of place or the presence of others. The attendant repeated his message, but the stranger still wept, unheeding, Nor could the flower of speech be plucked from his quivering lips.

89. Since strange knight did not answer the slave returned to his sovereign. He said:” I told him your will but he weeps and says not a word. All my attempts to induse him to speak were in vain, your highness. The radiant like that he casts has dazzled and blinded my eyes”

90. Great was the wrath of Rostevan but greater by far his amazement. He summed his archers before him, in thounderous tones he commanded: "You twlve are undaunted warriors, skilled in the arts of warfare; Take up your arms, at once, and bring that swordsman before me”.

91. The archers drew near to the knight, with asound of the clanging armour, So that the weeper started but fell once again to his weeping. Then he looked up through his tears and beheld the archers approaching. And cried:” Woe is me!”Nothing more, not a word, not a sound did he utter.

92. Then with his hands he wiped the tears the tears from his eyes, and rising, Braced his strong arms and rapidly fastened his sword and quiver. Payng no heed to the man in mounted his raven-black horse Rode away leaving men amazed and bewildered behind him.

93. They stretched out their hands to seize him, but he turned and attacked them so fiercely That even the heart of the foe would have pitied their plight in that moment. Scarcely raising his hand he beat them down with his whip, Till the king's brave archers were scattered, or left on the ground for dead.

94. Rostevan's heart burned within him at the sight of his slaughtered soldiers. Turning to those aroud him he charged then to capture the slayer. The youth rode on unheeding, and never once looked backward, But when the pursuers overtook him, he turned, raised his whip and destroyed them.

95. Rostevan and Avtandil mounted, spurred their steeds in pursuit; The youth swayed free in his saddle, his horse as swift as Merani. The sun shown bright on the plain and turning, the youth beheld Rostevan, Avtandil riding, galloping close on his heels.

96. Before they overtake him he dealt one furious blow with his whip on his charger's side and was strightway gone from their sight, Vanished like one who had sunk in an abyss or flown up to heaven. And though they searched they could find no trace of the course he had taken.