LXX.

The fourth day came, but not a breath of air, And Ocean slumbered like an unweaned child: The fifth day, and their boat lay floating there, The sea and sky were blue, and clear, and mild-- With their one oar (I wish they had had a pair) What could they do? and Hunger's rage grew wild: So Juan's spaniel, spite of his entreating, Was killed, and portioned out for present eating.[123]