This kill’d Their tender spirits; when Eurylochus A speech that vex’d me utter’d, answ’ring thus: ‘Cruel Ulysses! Since thy nerves abound In strength, the more spent, and no toils confound Thy able limbs, as all beat out of steel, Thou ablest us too, as unapt to feel The teeth of Labour, and the spoil of Sleep, And therefore still wet waste us in the deep, Nor let us land to eat, but madly now In night put forth, and leave firm land to strew The sea with errors. All the rabid flight Of winds that ruin ships are bred in night. Who is it that can keep off cruel Death, If suddenly should rush out th’ angry breath Of Notus, or the eager-spirited West, That cuff ships dead, and do the Gods their best? Serve black Night still with shore, meat, sleep, and ease, And offer to the Morning for the seas.’ This all the rest approv’d, and then knew I That past all doubt the Devil did apply His slaught’rous works. Nor would they be withheld; I was but one, nor yielded but compell’d. But all that might contain them I assay’d, A sacred oath on all their pow’rs I laid, That if with herds or any richest-flocks We chanc’d t’ encounter, neither sheep nor ox We once should touch, nor (for that constant ill That follows folly) scorn advice and kill, But quiet sit us down and take such food As the immortal Circe had bestow’d. They swore all this in all severest sort; And then we anchor’d in the winding port Near a fresh river, where the long’d-for shore They all flew out to, took in victuals store, And, being full, thought of their friends, and wept Their loss by Scylla, weeping till they slept. In night’s third part, when stars began to stoop, The Cloud-assembler put a tempest up. A boist’rous spirit he gave it, drave out all His flocks of clouds, and let such darkness fall That Earth and Seas, for fear, to hide were driv’n, For with his clouds he thrust out Night from heav’n. At morn we drew our ships into a cave, In which the Nymphs that Phœbus’ cattle drave Fair dancing-rooms had, and their seats of state. I urg’d my friends then, that, to shun their fate, They would observe their oath, and take the food Our ship afforded, nor attempt the blood Of those fair herds and flocks, because they were The dreadful God’s that all could see and hear. They stood observant, and in that good mind Had we been gone; but so adverse the wind Stood to our passage, that we could not go. For one whole month perpetually did blow Impetuous Notus, not a breath’s repair But his and Eurus’ rul’d in all the air. As long yet as their ruddy wine and bread Stood out amongst them, so long not a head Of all those oxen fell in any strife Amongst those students for the gut and life; But when their victuals fail’d they fell to prey, Necessity compell’d them then to stray In rape of fish and fowl; whatever came In reach of hand or hook, the belly’s flame Afflicted to it. I then fell to pray’r, And (making to a close retreat repair, Free from both friends and winds) I wash’d my hands,