So when the flame had come where time and place Seemed not unfitting to my guide with grace To question, thus he spoke at my desire: "O ye that are two souls within one fire, If in your eyes some merit I have won -- Merit, or more or less--for tribute done When in the world I framed my lofty verse: Move not; but fain were we that one rehearse By what strange fortunes to his death he came." The elder crescent of the antique flame Began to wave, as in the upper air A flame is tempest-tortured, here and there Tossing its angry height, and in its sound As human speech it suddenly had found, Rolled forth a voice of thunder, saying: "When, The twelvemonth past in Circe's halls, again I left Gaeta's strand (ere thither came Aeneas, and had given it that name) Not love of son, nor filial reverence, Nor that affection that might recompense The weary vigil of Penelope, Could so far quench the hot desire in me To prove more wonders of the teeming earth, -- Of human frailty and of manly worth. In one small bark, and with the faithful band That all awards had shared of Fortune's hand, I launched once more upon the open main. Both shores I visited as far as Spain, -- Sardinia, and Morocco, and what more The midland sea upon its bosom wore. The hour of our lives was growing late When we arrived before that narrow strait Where Hercules had set his bounds to show That there Man's foot shall pause, and further none shall go. Borne with the gale past Seville on the right, And on the left now swept by Ceuta's site, 'Brothers,' I cried, 'that into the far West Through perils numberless are now addressed, In this brief respite that our mortal sense Yet hath, shrink not from new experience; But sailing still against the setting sun, Seek we new worlds where Man has never won Before us. Ponder your proud destinies: Born were ye not like brutes for swinish ease, But virtue and high knowledge to pursue.' My comrades with such zeal did I imbue By these brief words, that scarcely could I then Have turned them from their purpose; so again We set out poop against the morning sky, And made our oars as wings wherewith to fly Into the Unknown. And ever from the right Our course deflecting, in the balmy night All southern stars we saw, and ours so low, That scarce above the sea-marge it might show. So five revolving periods the soft, Pale light had robbed of Cynthia, and as oft Replenished since our start, when far and dim Over the misty ocean's utmost rim, Rose a great mountain, that for very height Passed any I had seen. Boundless delight Filled us--alas, and quickly turned to dole: For, springing from our scarce-discovered goal, A whirlwind struck the ship; in circles three It whirled us helpless in the eddying sea; High on the fourth the fragile stern uprose, The bow drove down, and, as Another chose, Over our heads we heard the surging billows close." Ariosto. Orlando Furioso, Canto X, 91-99