The unknown youth leaped into the arena and addressing himself to the king of Scythia said:
"Your majesty need not be surprised at not having entirely succeeded. These ebony bows are made in my country. There is a peculiar method in using them. Your merit is greater in having bent it, than if I were to curve it."
He then took an arrow and placing it upon the string, bent the bow of Nimrod, and shot the arrow beyond the gates. A million hands at once applauded the prodigy. Babylon re-echoed with acclamations; and all the ladies agreed it was fortunate for so handsome a youth to be so strong.
He then took out of his pocket a small ivory tablet, wrote upon it with a golden pencil, fixed the tablet to the bow, and then presented it to the princess with such a grace as charmed every spectator. He then modestly returned to his place between his bird and his valet. All Babylon was in astonishment; the three kings were confounded, whilst the stranger did not seem to pay the least attention to what had happened.
Formosanta was still more surprised to read upon the ivory tablet, tied to the bow, these lines, written in the best Chaldean:
L'arc de Nembrod est celui de la guerre; L'arc de l'amour est celui du bonheur; Vous le portez. Par vous ce Dieu vainqueur Est devenu le maitre de la terre. Trois Rois puissants, trois rivaux aujourd'hui, Osent pretendre a l'honneur de vous plaire. Je ne sais pas qui votre coeur prefere, Mais l'univers sera jaloux de lui.
[The bow of Nimrod is that of war; The bow of love is that of happiness Which you possess. Through you this conquering God Has become master of the earth. Three powerful kings,--three rivals now, Dare aspire to the honor of pleasing you. I know not whom your heart may prefer, But the universe will be jealous of him.]
This little madrigal did not displease the princess; but it was criticised by some of the lords of the ancient court, who said that, in former times, Belus would have been compared to the sun, and Formosanta to the moon; his neck to a tower, and her breast to a bushel of wheat. They said the stranger had no sort of imagination, and that he had lost sight of the rules of true poetry, but all the ladies thought the verses very gallant. They were astonished that a man who handled a bow so well should have so much wit. The lady of honor to the princess said to her: