Libro XII

“Sadly we sailed into the strait, where stood On one hand Scylla, and the dreaded rock Charybdis on the other, drawing down Into her horrid gulf the briny flood; And as she threw it forth again, it tossed And murmured as upon a glowing fire The water in a cauldron, while the spray, Thrown upward, fell on both the summit-rocks; And when once more she swallowed the salt sea, It whirled within the abyss, while far below The bottom of blue sand was seen. My men Grew pale with fear; we looked into the gulf And thought our end was nigh. Then Scylla snatched Six of my comrades from our hollow barque, The best in valor and in strength of arm. I looked to my good ship; I looked to them, And saw their hands and feet still swung in air Above me, while for the last time on earth They called my name in agony of heart. As when an angler on a jutting rock Sits with his taper rod, and casts his bait To snare the smaller fish, he sends the horn Of a wild bull that guards his line afar Into the water, and jerks out a fish, And throws it gasping shoreward; so were they Uplifted gasping to the rocks, and