_Master._ The fair Triones with their glimmering light Smil'd at the foot of clear Bootes' wain, And in the north, distinguishing the hours, The loadstar of our course dispers'd his clear; When to the seas with blitheful western blasts We sail'd amain, and let the bowling fly. Scarce had we gone ten leagues from sight of land, But, lo, an host of black and sable clouds 'Gan to eclipse Lucina's silver face; And, with a hurling noise from forth the south, A gust of wind did rear the billows up. Then scantled we our sails with speedy hands, And took our drablers[104] from our bonnets straight, And severèd our bonnets from the courses: Our topsails up, we truss our spritsails in; But vainly strive they that resist the heavens. For, lo, the waves incense them more and more, Mounting with hideous roarings from the depth; Our bark is batter'd by encountering storms, And well-nigh stemm'd by breaking of the floods. The steersman, pale and careful, holds his helm, Wherein the trust of life and safety lay: Till all at once (a mortal tale to tell) Our sails were split by Bisa's[105] bitter blast. Our rudder broke, and we bereft of hope. There might you see, with pale and ghastly looks, The dead in thought, and doleful merchants lift Their eyes and hands unto their country's gods. The goods we cast in bowels of the sea, A sacrifice to 'suage proud Neptune's ire. Only alone a man of Israel, A passenger, did under hatches lie, And slept secure, when we for succour pray'd: Him I awoke, and said, "Why slumberest thou? Arise, and pray, and call upon thy god; He will perhaps in pity look on us." Then cast we lots to know by whose amiss Our mischief came, according to the guise; And, lo, the lot did unto Jonas fall, The Israelite of whom I told you last. Then question we his country and his name; Who answer'd us, "I am an Hebrew born, Who fear the Lord of heaven who made the sea, And fled from him, for which we all are plagu'd: So, to assuage the fury of my God, Take me and cast my carcass in the sea; Then shall this stormy wind and billow cease." The heavens they know, the Hebrew's God can tell, How loath we were to execute his will: But when no oars nor labour might suffice, We heav'd the hapless Jonas overboard. So ceas'd the storm, and calmèd all the sea, And we by strength of oars recover'd shore. _Gov._ A wondrous chance of mighty consequence! _First Mer._ Ah, honour'd be the god that wrought the same! For we have vow'd, that saw his wondrous works, To cast away profanèd paganism, And count the Hebrew's god the only god: To him this offering of the purest gold, This myrrh and cassia, freely I do yield. _Master._ And on his altar's fume these Turkey cloths, This gossampine[106] and gold, I'll sacrifice.