of the tide. Ignorant of the event, and unthankful for
escape, he looks back, his hands and his voice addressed
to the sky: “Almighty sire! hast thou judged me worthy
of an infliction like this, and sentenced me to this depth
of suffering? Whither am I bound? whence have I
come? what is this flight that is bearing me home, and 5
what does it make of me? Shall I look again on Laurentum’s
camp and city? what of that warrior troop who
followed me and my standard? Are they not those
whom I left—horror to tell—all of them in the jaws