Methinks Scylla were the better fate.

At least I might have passed this night recumbent.

The eagle, at the day's end, flieth to his nest, and the lion hath his den; to all toil cometh an evensong, save to the shuttlecocks of Aeolus." "Nay, Sir Poet, you did bravely last night.

Fall to and eat now, and we shall see you do more bravely to-night." "Orpheus, his weapon, is a harp, not a gun.

Nevertheless, I am one of five, and shall yield me to a man's bidding for the sake of her, my mistress, to whose glory I have this day indited my ode, and into whose sweet ear I will even now go recite it." "No, no," said Ludar, "stay here and eat, and then go make a better one on the starboard bow, with your hand on the forestays, and your eye seaward." He obeyed at length and swallowed his supper.