XXXIII.
Approaching to the naked rock as near
As vigorous hand might serve to cast a stone,
He knew not if he heard, or did not hear
A cry, so faint and feeble was the moan.
When, turning to the left, the cavalier,
His level sight along the water thrown,
Naked as born, bound to a stump, espied
A dame whose feet were wetted by the tide.
XXXIV.
Because she distant is, and evermore
Holds down her face, he ill can her discern:
Both sculls he pulls amain, and nears the shore,
With keen desire more certain news to learn:
But now the winding beach is heard to roar,
And wood and cave the mighty noise return;
The billows swell, and, lo! the beast! who pressed,
And nigh concealed the sea beneath his breast[7].
XXXV.
As cloud from humid vale is seen to rise,
Pregnant with rain and storm, which seems withal
To extinguish day, and charged with deeper dyes
Than night, to spread throughout this earthly ball,
So swims the beast, who so much occupies
Of sea, he may be said to keep it all[8].
Waves roar: collected in himself, the peer
Looks proudly on, unchanged in heart and cheer.
