XLVI One says: "Abreast of Limisso are we Among the shoals" -- and by his reckoning, nigh The rocks of Tripoli and bark must be, Where shipwrecked, for the most part, vessels lie. Another: "We are lost on Sataly, Whose coast makes many patrons weep and sigh." According to their judgment, all suggest Their treasons, each with equal dread opprest. XLVII More spitefully the wind on the third day Blows, and the sea more yeasty billows rears: The fore-mast by the first is borne away, The rudder by the last, with him who steers. Better than steel that man will bide the assay, -- Of marble breast -- who has not now his fears. Marphisa, erst so confident 'mid harms, Denied not but that day she felt alarms. XLVIII A pilgrimage is vowed to Sinai, To Cyprus and Gallicia, and to Rome, Ettino, and other place of sanctity, If such is named, and to the holy tomb. Meanwhile, above the sea and near the sky, The bark is tost, with shattered plank and boom; From which the crew had cut, in her distress, The mizenmast, to make her labour less. XLIX They bale and chest and all their heavy lumber Cast overboard, from poop, and prow, and side; And every birth and cabin disencumber Of merchandize, to feed the greedy tide. Water to water others of the number Rendered, by whom the spouting pumps were plied. This in the hold bestirs himself, where'er Planks opened by the beating sea appear. L They in this trouble, in this woe, remained For full four days; and helpless was their plight, And a full victory the sea had gained, If yet a little had endured its spite: But them with hope of clearer sky sustained The wished appearance of St. Elmo's light, Which (every spar was gone) descending glowed Upon a boat, which in the prow was stowed. LI When, flaming, they the beauteous light surveyed, All those aboard kneeled down in humble guise, And Heaven for peace and for smooth water prayed, With trembling voices and with watery eyes. Nor longer waxed the storm, which had dismayed, Till then enduring in such cruel wise. North-wester or cross-wind no longer reigns; But tyrant of the sea the south remains. LII This on the sea remained so passing strong, And from its sable mouth so fiercely blew, And bore with it so swift a stream and strong Of the vext waters, that it hurried through Their tumbling waves the shattered bark along, Faster than gentle falcon ever flew; And sore the patron feared, to the world's brink It would transport his bark, or wreck or sink. LIII For this the master finds a remedy, Who bids them cast out spars, and veer away A line which holds this float, and as they flee, So, by two-thirds, their furious course delay. This counsel boots, and more the augury From him whose lights upon the gunwale play. This saves the vessel, haply else undone; And makes her through the sea securely run.