But, unplacated, the Prince cried angrily unto Rustem:
“Verily, O Treacherous One, thy words have a pleasant sound, but I say unto thee, it is idle to kill the snake that the peacock’s death may be avenged. Thine own blood, therefore, shall pay for that of my sons, for verily my arrows shall make the world dark unto thine eyes.”
Now thus saying, Isfendiyar seized his bow, and whiz! whiz! went a shower of arrows through the air, fastening themselves in the body of Rustem and Rakush, his steed. Yea, twice thirty arrows were there in all, and not one of them was there that did not wound the Hero or his horse, while Rustem’s missiles fell harmless upon Isfendiyar, because that Zerdusht had charmed his body against all danger so that it was like unto brass.
Then Rustem, seeing that Rakush was like to perish of his wounds, and feeling also his own strength going from loss of blood, cried unto Isfendiyar:
“Behold, night is at hand, O Angry One, and since even heroes cannot combat in the darkness, go thy way, and we will meet again in the morning.”
But Isfendiyar, seeing that Rustem staggered in his saddle, said:
“Old Man, think not to escape me thus, for yet there is light enough to finish our combat.”
But Rustem replied unto the Eager One:
“Not so, O Isfendiyar! Farewell, therefore, until morning.”
Now so saying, quickly Rustem turned him and swam across the stream. And behold! Isfendiyar was amazed, for he knew that both steed and rider were sore wounded. Then, standing upon the bank, with his lips he reviled the fleeing Hero, but lo! in his heart he was filled with admiration and wonder at his prowess.