His bolts; she, smitten by the fires of Jove,
Quaked all her length; with sulphur fill'd she reek'd,
And o'er her sides headlong my people plunged 485
Like sea-mews, interdicted by that stroke
Of wrath divine to hope their country more.
But I, the vessel still paced to and fro,
Till, fever'd by the boist'rous waves, her sides
Forsook the keel now left to float alone. 490
Snapp'd where it join'd the keel the mast had fall'n,
But fell encircled with a leathern brace,
Which it retain'd; binding with this the mast
And keel together, on them both I sat,
Borne helpless onward by the dreadful gale. 495
And now the West subsided, and the South
Arose instead, with mis'ry charged for me,
That I might measure back my course again
To dire Charybdis. All night long I drove,
And when the sun arose, at Scylla's rock 500
Once more, and at Charybdis' gulph arrived.
It was the time when she absorb'd profound
The briny flood, but by a wave upborne
I seized the branches fast of the wild-fig.[1]
To which, bat-like, I clung; yet where to fix 505
My foot secure found not, or where to ascend,
For distant lay the roots, and distant shot
The largest arms erect into the air,
- ↑ See line 120.
O'ershadowing
