the water. But Mnestheus, rejoicing, and keener for success,
with quick plashing oars, and the winds at his call,
makes for the seas that shelve to the coast and speeds along
the clear expanse. Like as a dove suddenly startled in a
cave, where in the hollow of the rock are her home and her 20
loved nestlings, issues out to fly over the plain, clapping
loud her pinions in terror in the cell—then, gliding smooth
through the tranquil air, she winnows her liquid way without
a motion of her rapid wings—so with Mnestheus,
so the Shark, flying of herself, cuts through the last water 25