(11) When they had this done, they inclosed a multitude of fishes: and their net brake. They beckoned unto their partners, which were in the other ship, that they should come and help them. They came, and filled both the ships, so that they began to sink.

(6) So eager did I render my companions, With this brief exhortation, for the voyage, That then I hardly could have held them back. And having turned our stern unto the morning, We of the oars made wings for our mad flight, Evermore gaining on the larboard side. Already all the stars of the other pole The night beheld, and ours so very low It did not rise above the ocean floor. Five times rekindled and as many quenched Had been the splendour underneath the moon, Since we had entered into the deep pass, When there appeared to us a mountain, dim From distance, and it seemed to me so high As I had never any one beheld. Joyful were we, and soon it turned to weeping; For out of the new land a whirlwind rose, And smote upon the fore part of the ship. Three times it made her whirl with all the waters, At the fourth time it made the stern uplift, And the prow downward go, as pleased Another, Until the sea above us closed again."

(1) O thou who art devoid of moisture in coming forth from the stream; and who restest upon the deck of thy Bark: as thou proceedest in the direction of Yesterday, and restest upon the deck of thy Bark, let me join thy boatmen

(1) From bridge to bridge thus, speaking other things Of which my Comedy cares not to sing, We came along, and held the summit, when We halted to behold another fissure Of Malebolge and other vain laments; And I beheld it marvellously dark. As in the Arsenal of the Venetians Boils in the winter the tenacious pitch To smear their unsound vessels o'er again, For sail they cannot; and instead thereof One makes his vessel new, and one recaulks The ribs of that which many a voyage has made; One hammers at the prow, one at the stern, This one makes oars, and that one cordage twists, Another mends the mainsail and the mizzen; Thus, not by fire, but by the art divine, Was boiling down below there a dense pitch Which upon every side the bank belimed. I saw it, but I did not see within it Aught but the bubbles that the boiling raised, And all swell up and resubside compressed. The while below there fixedly I gazed, My Leader, crying out: "Beware, beware!" Drew me unto himself from where I stood.

(2) "Yes," said the prince. "I am just about collecting the revenue of my fief, and will then lend you three hundred ounces of silver. Will that do?" At this Chuang Tzŭ flushed with anger and said, "Yesterday, as I was coming along, I heard a voice calling me. I looked round, and in the cart-rut I saw a stickleback. "'And what do you want, stickleback?' said I. "'I am a denizen of the eastern ocean,' replied the stickleback. 'Pray, Sir, a pint of water to save my life.' "'Yes,' said I. 'I am just going south to visit the princes of Wu and Yüeh. I will bring you some from the west river. Will that do?' "At this the stickleback flushed with anger and said, 'I am out of my element. I have nowhere to go. A pint of water would save me. But to talk to me like this,—you might as well put me in a dried-fish shop at once.'" Jên Kung Tzŭ got a huge hook on a big line, which he baited with fifty oxen. He squatted down at Kuei-chi, and cast into the eastern ocean. Every day he fished, but for a whole year he caught nothing. Then came a great fish which swallowed the bait, and dragging the huge hook dived down below. This way and that way it plunged about, erecting the dorsal fin. The white waves rolled mountain high. The great deep was shaken up. The noise was like that of so many devils, terrifying people for many miles around.

(89) But that vessel floated on the water, while all the oxen and elephants and camels and asses sank to the bottom with all the animals, so that I could no longer see them, and they were not able to escape, (but) perished and sank into the depths.

(1) O Ye, who in some pretty little boat, Eager to listen, have been following Behind my ship, that singing sails along, Turn back to look again upon your shores; Do not put out to sea, lest peradventure, In losing me, you might yourselves be lost. The sea I sail has never yet been passed; Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo, And Muses nine point out to me the Bears. Ye other few who have the neck uplifted Betimes to th' bread of Angels upon which One liveth here and grows not sated by it, Well may you launch upon the deep salt-sea Your vessel, keeping still my wake before you Upon the water that grows smooth again. Those glorious ones who unto Colchos passed Were not so wonder-struck as you shall be, When Jason they beheld a ploughman made! The con-created and perpetual thirst For the realm deiform did bear us on, As swift almost as ye the heavens behold. Upward gazed Beatrice, and I at her; And in such space perchance as strikes a bolt And flies, and from the notch unlocks itself,

(13) Thy boatmen [O Râ], succeed in measuring out thy path, and a journey, with which thou art satisfied; a progress, a progress towards home; and the progress which thou hast made towards home is a fair progress

(12) When they were come into the ship, the wind ceased. They came into the land of Gennesaret.

(502) 1073 ----------------- four -----------------------1074. --------------- a point ---------------------1075. --------------- darkness ---------------------- 1076. --------------- be not ----------------------1077. come --------------------------------------- 24. A SERIES OF REED-FLOATS AND FERRYMAN TEXTS,

(11) At that time there was a movement in the sea

(27) As they sailed, behold, there came down a storm of wind: the waves beat into the ship, insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves.

(6) Then Breath was about to go off. As a large fine horse of the Indus-land might pull up the pegs of his foot- tethers together, thus indeed did it pull up those vital breaths together. They said: ' Sir, go not off! Verily, we shall not be able to live without you! ' ' If such I am, make me an offering/ < So be it.'

(102) And see ye not the sailors of the ships, how their ships are tossed to and fro by the waves, and are shaken by the winds, and are in sore trouble?

(2) My Guide descended down into the boat, And then he made me enter after him, And only when I entered seemed it laden. Soon as the Guide and I were in the boat, The antique prow goes on its way, dividing More of the water than 'tis wont with others. While we were running through the dead canal, Uprose in front of me one full of mire, And said, "Who 'rt thou that comest ere the hour?" And I to him: "Although I come, I stay not; But who art thou that hast become so squalid?" "Thou seest that I am one who weeps," he answered. And I to him: "With weeping and with wailing, Thou spirit maledict, do thou remain; For thee I know, though thou art all defiled." Then stretched he both his hands unto the boat; Whereat my wary Master thrust him back, Saying, "Away there with the other dogs!" Thereafter with his arms he clasped my neck; He kissed my face, and said: "Disdainful soul, Blessed be she who bore thee in her bosom. That was an arrogant person in the world; Goodness is none, that decks his memory; So likewise here his shade is furious.

(4) Let me speak to the divine Boatman at the gloaming, let me enter in and let me go out; that I may see who is there; that I may raise him up and speak my words to him

(2) Simon Peter saith unto them, I go a fishing. They say, We go with thee. They entered into a ship immediately; and that night they caught nothing.

(1) In the northern ocean there is a fish, called the Leviathan, many thousand li in size. This leviathan changes into a bird, called the Rukh, whose back is many thousand li in breadth. With a mighty effort it rises, and its wings obscure the sky like clouds. At the equinox, this bird prepares to start for the southern ocean, the Celestial Lake. And in the Record of Marvels we read that when the rukh flies southwards, the water is smitten for a space of three thousand li around, while the bird itself mounts upon a typhoon to a height of ninety thousand li, for a flight of six months' duration. Just so are the motes in a sunbeam blown aloft by God. For whether the blue of the sky is its real colour, or only the result of distance without end, the effect to the bird looking down would be just the same as to the motes. If there is not sufficient depth, water will not float large ships. Upset a cupful into a small hole, and a mustard-seed will be your boat. Try to float the cup, and it will stick, from the disproportion between water and vessel. So with air. If there is not a sufficient depth, it cannot support large birds. And for this bird a depth of ninety thousand li is necessary; and then, with nothing save the clear sky above, and no obstacle in the way, it starts upon its journey to the south.

(5) For 'twere not fitting that the eye o'ercast By any mist should go before the first Angel, who is of those of Paradise. This little island round about its base Below there, yonder, where the billow beats it, Doth rushes bear upon its washy ooze; No other plant that putteth forth the leaf, Or that doth indurate, can there have life, Because it yieldeth not unto the shocks. Thereafter be not this way your return; The sun, which now is rising, will direct you To take the mount by easier ascent." With this he vanished; and I raised me up Without a word, and wholly drew myself Unto my Guide, and turned mine eyes to him. And he began: "Son, follow thou my steps; Let us turn back, for on this side declines The plain unto its lower boundaries." The dawn was vanquishing the matin hour Which fled before it, so that from afar I recognised the trembling of the sea. Along the solitary plain we went As one who unto the lost road returns, And till he finds it seems to go in vain.

(5) Now, at the close of day he turneth down his eyes to Rā; for there cometh a standing still in the Bark and a deep slumber within the ship. And now he swalloweth three cubits of the Great Water