LIV. The boats, as stated, had got off before, And in them crowded several of the crew; And yet their present hope was hardly more Than what it had been, for so strong it blew There was slight chance of reaching any shore; And then they were too many, though so few-- Nine in the cutter, thirty in the boat, Were counted in them when they got afloat. LV. All the rest perished; near two hundred souls Had left their bodies; and what's worse, alas! When over Catholics the Ocean rolls, They must wait several weeks before a mass Takes off one peck of purgatorial coals, Because, till people know what's come to pass, They won't lay out their money on the dead-- It costs three francs for every mass that's said. LVI. Juan got into the long-boat, and there Contrived to help Pedrillo to a place; It seemed as if they had exchanged their care, For Juan wore the magisterial face Which courage gives, while poor Pedrillo's pair Of eyes were crying for their owner's case: Battista, though, (a name called shortly Tita), Was lost by getting at some aqua-vita. LVII. Pedro, his valet, too, he tried to save, But the same cause, conducive to his loss, Left him so drunk, he jumped into the wave, As o'er the cutter's edge he tried to cross, And so he found a wine-and-watery grave; They could not rescue him although so close, Because the sea ran higher every minute, And for the boat--the crew kept crowding in it. LVIII. A small old spaniel,--which had been Don José's, His father's, whom he loved, as ye may think, For on such things the memory reposes With tenderness--stood howling on the brink, Knowing, (dogs have such intellectual noses!) No doubt, the vessel was about to sink; And Juan caught him up, and ere he stepped Off threw him in, then after him he leaped.[116] LIX. He also stuffed his money where he could About his person, and Pedrillo's too, Who let him do, in fact, whate'er he would, Not knowing what himself to say, or do, As every rising wave his dread renewed; But Juan, trusting they might still get through, And deeming there were remedies for any ill, Thus re-embarked his tutor and his spaniel. LX. 'T was a rough night, and blew so stiffly yet, That the sail was becalmed between the seas,[117] Though on the wave's high top too much to set, They dared not take it in for all the breeze: Each sea curled o'er the stern, and kept them wet, And made them bale without a moment's ease,[118] So that themselves as well as hopes were damped, And the poor little cutter quickly swamped. LXI.