Summary

The Literature of Arabia

Make a wager with a man who does not possess even an ass, and whose father has never been rich enough to buy a horse. Let Cais alone; he has wealth, lands, horses, a proud spirit, and he is the owner of this Dahir, who is always first on the day of a race, whether he is resting or running—this Dahir, a steed whose feet even appear through the obscurity of night like burning brands." "Ayas," replied Hadifah, "do you think I would break my word? I will take the camels of Cais, and will not permit my name to be inscribed among the number of those who have been vanquished.
Source: Gutenberg

The Literature of Arabia

He chases away sorrow from the heart of him who beholds him, and protects like a strong tower the man who mounts him." Carwash did not stop here, but continued to praise, in the highest and most distinguished language, the horse Dahir, until all of the tribe of Fazarah and of the family of Zyad, felt their hearts swell with rage. "Do you hear him, brother?" said Haml to Hadifah; "come, that is enough," he added, turning towards Carwash. "All that you have said about Dahir is absolute nonsense—for at present there are no horses better or finer than mine, and those of my brother."
Source: Gutenberg

The Literature of Arabia

Scarcely was Zahir out of sight of his tents, when Djaida, who felt herself like to die, and whose frame of mind was quite unsupportable, said to her mother: "Mother, I feel that I am dying, and that this miserable Khaled is still in the vigor of life. I should like, if God gives me the power, to make him taste the fury of death, the bitterness of its pang and torture." So saying, she rose like a lioness, put on her armor, and mounted her horse, telling her mother she was going on a hunting expedition.
Source: Gutenberg

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature