him to the treacherous breezes, I whom a clear sky has so often deceived?” Such words he said and, clinging fast to the tiller, never let loose his hold, and kept his eyes upturned to the stars.

But lo! the god, shaking over his temples a bough dripping with Lethe’s dew and steeped in drowsy might of Styx, despite his efforts relaxes his swimming eyes. Hardly had a sudden slumber begun to unbend his limbs when, leaning above, Sleep flung him headlong into the clear waters, tearing away, as he fell, the helm and part of the stern, and calling vainly on his comrades again and again. The god himself winged his way in flight to the thin air above. None the less the fleet speeds safely on its course over the sea and, trusting in Father Neptune’s promises, glides on unafraid. And now, onward borne, it was