from the fields of Dicte.’[152] Thus astonished by visions and voices of heaven—for sleep it was not: no—methought I saw them face to face, their wreathed locks and their features all in full view; and a cold sweat, too, trickled down my whole frame. I leap from the bed, and 30 direct upturned hand and voice to heaven, and pour on the hearth the undefiled libation. The sacrifice paid, with joy I inform Anchises, and expound the whole from first to last. He owns the double pedigree and the rival ancestors, and his own new mistake about the two old countries. 35 Then he says: ‘My son, trained in the school of Troy’s destiny, Cassandra’s was the one voice which used to chant to me of this chance. Now I recollect, this was the fortune she presaged as appointed for our line, calling often for Hesperia, often for the land of Italy. But could anyone think that Teucrians would ever reach the Hesperian shore? Could Cassandra’s prophesying in those days gain any one’s credence? Let us give way to Phœbus, and 5 follow the better course enjoined.’ He said, and with one consent we gladly obey. So we quit this settlement as we quitted the last, and leaving a few behind, set sail, and make our hollow barque fly over the vast world of waters. “Soon as the ships had gained the mid-sea, and land was 10 no more to be seen, sky on every side, on every side ocean, then came a murky storm-cloud and stood over my head, charged with night and winter tempest, and darkness ruffled the billow’s crest. At once the winds lay the sea in heaps, and the waters rise mountains high: a scattered 15 fleet, we are tossed upon the vast abyss: clouds enshrouded the day, and dank night robbed us of the sky, while fire flashes momently from the bursting clouds. We are dashed out of our track, and wander blindly over the blind waters. Nay, even Palinurus owns he cannot tell day 20 from night in a heaven like this, or recollect the footpath in the watery wilderness. Three dreary suns, blotted by blinding darkness, we wander on the deep: three nights with never a star. On the fourth day, at last, land was first seen to rise, and mountains with curling smoke 25 wreaths to dawn in distant prospect. Down drop the sails: we rise on our oars: incessantly the crews, straining every nerve, toss the foam and sweep the blue.