He saw a robber's faulchion gleam,
High brandish'd o'er his head.

A hunter's javelin in his hand,
He scorn'd the ruffian's base demand,
And made the wretch recoil;
But numbers from a thicket spring,
The youth they hem within a ring,
And threaten to despoil.

He, then alarm'd, calls loud for aid,
And sudden from the rustling shade,
A wond'rous sound they hear.
The startled ruffians turned in dread;
Some shriek'd, some shouted, and some fled,
Their foe approaches near.

Against one wretch, of form uncouth,
Who basely struck the encircled youth,
And gave his foot a wound;
This shadowy foe, of silent tongue,
Had from his secret ambush sprung,
And beat him to the ground,

Another, as he fled in haste,
The youth's defender then embrac'd
With such a deadly clasp;
The villain fell, and in the strife
Groan'd out his miserable life,
In horror's speechless gasp.