XXX.
It was the will of Heaven that he, before
The King of Ireland, should not reach the land,
That he with greater ease upon that shore
Might act what shortly you shall understand.
“Make for the isle. Now” (said he) “may’st thou moor,”
(Thus issuing to the pilot his command),
“And give me for my need the skiff; for I
“Will to the rock without more company.
XXXI.
“The biggest cable that thou hast aboard,
“And biggest anchor to my hands consign;
“Thou shalt perceive why thus my boat is stored,
“If I but meet that monster of the brine.”
He bade them lower the pinnace overboard,
With all things that befitted his design:
His arms he left behind, except his blade,
And singly for the rocky island made.
XXXII.
Home to his breast the count pulls either oar,
With the island at his back, to which he wends,
In guise that, crawling up the sandy shore,
The crooked crab from sea or marsh ascends.
It was the hour Aurora gay before
The rising sun her yellow hair extends
(His orb as yet half-seen, half-hid from sight)
Not without stirring jealous Tithon’s spite.
