Even as the wolf, who, laden with his prey, Is homeward to his secret cavern bound, And, when he deems that safest is the way, Beholds it crost by hunter and by hound, Flings down his load, and swiftly darts away, Where most o'ergrown with brushwood is the ground.
Nor quicker are that band to void the vale, Than those bold three are quicker to assail.