Anone one sent out of the thicket neare
A cruell shaft, headed with deadly ill,
And fethered with an vnlucky quill;
The wicked steele stayd not, till it did light
In his left thigh, and deepely did it thrill:
Exceeding griefe that wound in him empight,
But more that with his foes he could not come to fight.
At last through wrath and vengeaunce making way, xxi
He on the bancke arriu’d with mickle paine,
Where the third brother him did sore assay,