CAP. XX. Still my dream went on, and still I seemed to see that ship, which now with broken oars was drifting in search of a landing-place. It was driven to that port where all this evil raged; it had escaped Scylla, but it came to an Island more dangerous than Scylla. I landed, and asked one of those whom I met, ‘What island is this, and why is there so great a concourse of people here?’ He replied: ‘This is called the Island of Brute, and the men who dwell here are of fair form but of savage condition. This people lays law and justice low by violence; strife and bloodshed reign here ever. Yet if they could love one another, no better people would there be from the rising to the setting of the sun.’ I was saddened and terrified by his answer, I knew not whether sea or land were more to be feared. The heavenly voice which I had heard before said to me, ‘Lament not, but take heed to thyself. Thou hast come to a place where wars abound, but do thou seek peace within by God’s assistance. Be cautious and silent; but when thou hast leisure, record these dreams of thine, for dreams often give a presage of the future.’ The voice was heard no more, and at that moment the cock crew and I awoke from my sleep, scarce knowing whether what I had seen was within me or without. CAP. XXI. Then I returned thanks to God for having preserved me upon the sea and from the jaws of Scylla. The rustic goes back to his labours, but in his heart there remains hatred of his lords; therefore let us be forewarned and provide against future evils. As for me, God has set me free from the danger, and for this I thank him; and I would that my country, preserved from destruction, might render due thanks to God. While the memory of these things is fresh in me, I will write that which I experienced in my sleep, that waking slumber which brought to me no mere vision but a dream of reality. PROLOGUS LIBRI SECUNDI. Many things did I see and note, which my pen shall write, but first I invoke, not the Muses, but the true Spirit of God, and I will let down my nets in the name of Christ and for his glory. The style and the verses are poor, but the meaning is good. I will give that which my poor faculties can attain to; and may he be my helper who produced speech from the mouth of an ass. I prefer to do a little good than none. The words which follow are not spoken from myself; they are gathered from various sources, as honey from various flowers or bright shells from various shores. The name of the book is _Vox Clamantis_, because it is the utterance of a fresh sorrow. LIBER SECUNDUS. CAP. I. Tears shall be the ink with which I write. All is vanity except the love of God, and man has cause for lamentation from his birth. Yet if any people in the world could be happy, God granted this boon to us; we were blessed above all other nations. Now our former glory is extinguished and our prosperity is destroyed.