But all, alas! had been in vain,
And he inevitably slain,
If TRULLA and CERDON, in the nick,
To rescue him had not been quick; 100
For TRULLA, who was light of foot
As shafts which long-field Parthians shoot,
(But not so light as to be borne
Upon the ears of standing corn,
Or trip it o’er the water quicker 105
Than witches, when their staves they liquor,
As some report,) was got among
The foremost of the martial throng;
There pitying the vanquish’d Bear,
She call’d to CERDON, who stood near, 110
Viewing the bloody fight; to whom,
Shall we (quoth she) stand still hum-drum,
And see stout Bruin all alone,
By numbers basely overthrown? 
Such feats already h’ has atchiev’d, 115
In story not to be believ’d;
And ’twould to us be shame enough,
Not to attempt to fetch him off. 
I would (quoth he) venture a limb
To second thee, and rescue him:  120
But then we must about it straight,
Or else our aid will come too late. 
Quarter he scorns, he is so stout,
And therefore cannot long hold out. 
This said, they wav’d their weapons round 125
About their heads, to clear the ground;
And joining forces, laid about
So fiercely, that th’ amazed rout
Turn’d tale again, and straight begun,
As if the Devil drove, to run. 130
Meanwhile th’ approach’d th’ place where Bruin
Was now engag’d to mortal ruin. 
The conqu’ring foe they soon assail’d;
First TRULLA

stav’d, and CERDON tail’d,
Until their mastives loos’d their hold:  135
And yet, alas! do what they could,
The worsted Bear came off with store
Of bloody wounds, but all before: 
For as Achilles, dipt in pond,
Was ANABAPTIZ’D free from wound, 140
Made proof against dead-doing steel
All over, but the Pagan heel;
So did our champion’s arms defend
All of him, but the other end,
His head and ears, which, in the martial 145
Encounter, lost a leathern parcel
For as an Austrian Archduke once
Had one ear (which in ducatoons
Is half the coin) in battle par’d
Close to his head, so Bruin far’d; 150
But tugg’d and pull’d on th’ other side,
Like scriv’ner newly crucify’d;
Or like the late corrected leathern
Ears of the Circumcised Brethren. 
But gentle TRULLA into th’ ring 155
He wore in’s nose convey’d a string,
With which she march’d before, and led
The warrior to a grassy bed,
As authors write, in a cool shade,
Which eglantine and roses made; 160
Close by a softly murm’ring stream,
Where lovers us’d to loll and dream.