And gathering up himself out of the mire,
With his uneven wings did fiercely fall
Upon his sun-bright shield, and gripped it fast with all.

Much was the man encumbered with his hold,
In fear to lose his weapon in his paw,
Nor wist yet, how his talons to unfold;
Nor harder was from Cerberus greedy jaw
To pluck a bone, than from his cruel claw
To reave by strength the gripped gage away:
Thrice he assayed it from his foot to draw,
And thrice in vain to draw it did assay,
It booted nought to think, to rob him of his prey.

Book 1, Canto 11