from me and pours out of me, so that it appeared to me, not otherwise, as if we were being dissolved in the waters like snails in the sun. Then I begin to accuse myself and my guides, not believing it possible that I should remain living; but from them, instead of pity, I obtained but mockery. No doubt they knew from experience (what I knew not) that this trouble would not endure more than a few days; and thus it was, and my strength gradually returned, and I understood that the furious sea had only welcomed me thus.
(Calm on the Sea.)
15. But what of this? Worse things than these soon befell us. The wind left us, our wings became flabby; we stopped, unable to go anywhere. I again begin to knit my brow, wondering what would happen. "We have been driven into these deserts of the sea. Oh, shall we ever leave them again? Oh, shall we ever again see the lands of the living? Oh, my mother, dear earth! oh, dear earth, my mother, where art thou? God, the Creator, gave the water to the fishes, but thee to us. Alas! the fishes prudently remain in their dwelling-place, but we senselessly forsake ours. If Heaven cometh not to our help, we must certainly perish in this doleful abyss." Over these distressful thoughts my soul did not cease to grieve, till the sailors suddenly began to scream. Running out, I exclaimed: "What is this?" They answered that the wind was rising; and I
