For strength, for strength was given me as I drew
The scymitar, and, standing o’er his couch,
Raised it in both my hands with steady aim
And smote his neck. Upward, as from a spring
When newly open’d by the husbandman,
The villain’s life-blood spouted. Twice I struck
So making vengeance sure; then, praising God,
Retired amid the wood, and measured back
My patient way to Auria, to perform
This duty which thou seest.