When the armies met, these generals arranged with King Kaoos that two champions, one for each side, should meet in single combat. The king selected his greatest hero, Rustem, as the champion for the Persians. Sohrab, of course, was chosen by Afraysiab's generals to fight against him.
Sohrab suspected that his foe was Rustem, and when they met begged him to tell his name, but Rustem refused. Twice they fought, and twice Sohrab conquered. But he was moved by a strange love for his foe, and, though victor, spared his life.
And now the third and last day of the struggle arrived.
As Sohrab was putting on his armour he looked at the Persian hero, and said to Human, "See how strong and brave my foe appears! just such a man as my mother said that Rustem is. He surely is Rustem."
"Not at all," replied Human, "I know Rustem's appearance well. That horse, it is true, looks like Rakush, but is less strong and beautiful."
The champions now approached each other.
Sohrab, again in doubt, spoke, "Let us sit here as friends, for my heart is drawn to you. Be as generous as I am, and tell me who you are! Say, are you Rustem, whom I long to know?"
"Away with your excuses!" cried Rustem. "We meet to fight. I claim the struggle."
"Old man," said Sohrab, "you refuse to listen to me. Then take care for yourself!"
Each now tied his horse, tightened his belt, and rubbed his arms and wrists in angry excitement, for the struggle was to be by wrestling. And now the heroes meet and clasp; in the terrible strain they seem like raging elephants. The ground grows black with the blood and sweat that drops from their straining bodies. Sohrab threw himself forward with a sudden spring and seized his enemy around the belt. Rustem, feeling his strength give way, fell heavily to the ground. Sohrab leaned over to kill him, but Rustem cried out, "Hold! Do you not know the law? It gives the beaten man a second chance."