Anti-Sabbatical: A job taken with the sole intention of staying only for a limited period of time (often one year). The intention is usually to raise enough funds to partake in another, more meaningful activity such as watercolor sketching in Crete, or designing computer knit sweaters in Hong Kong. Employers are rarely informed of intentions. -- Douglas Coupland, "Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture"
There is a land amid the sable flood Call'd Crete; fair, fruitful, circled by the sea. Num'rous are her inhabitants, a race Not to be summ'd, and ninety towns she boasts. Diverse their language is; Achaians some, And some indigenous are; Cydonians there, Crest-shaking Dorians, and Pelasgians dwell. One city in extent the rest exceeds, Cnossus; the city in which Minos reign'd, Who, ever at a nine years' close, conferr'd With Jove himself; from him my father sprang The brave Deucalion; for Deucalion's sons Were two, myself and King Idomeneus. To Ilium he, on board his gallant barks, Follow'd the Atridæ. I, the youngest-born, By my illustrious name, Æthon, am known, But he ranks foremost both in worth and years. There I beheld Ulysses, and within My walls receiv'd him; for a violent wind Had driv'n him from Malea (while he sought The shores of Troy) to Crete. The storm his barks Bore into the Amnisus, for the cave Of Ilythia known, a dang'rous port, And which with difficulty he attain'd. He, landing, instant to the city went, Seeking Idomeneus; his friend of old, As he affirm'd, and one whom much he lov'd. But _he_ was far remote, ten days advanced, Perhaps eleven, on his course to Troy. Him, therefore, I conducted to my home, Where hospitably, and with kindest care I entertain'd him, (for I wanted nought) And for himself procured and for his band,-- By public contribution, corn, and wine, And beeves for food, that all might be sufficed. Twelve days his noble Greecians there abode, Port-lock'd by Boreas blowing with a force Resistless even on the land, some God So roused his fury; but the thirteenth day The wind all fell, and they embark'd again.
He said; they all unanimous approach'd, Sloping their shields, and stood. On the other side His aids Æneas call'd, with eyes toward Paris, Deiphobus, Agenor, turn'd, His fellow-warriors bold; them follow'd all Their people as the pastured flock the ram To water, by the shepherd seen with joy; Such joy Æneas felt, seeing, so soon, That numerous host attendant at his call. Then, for Alcathoüs, into contest close Arm'd with long spears they rush'd; on every breast Dread rang the brazen corselet, each his foe Assailing opposite; but two, the rest Surpassing far, terrible both as Mars, Æneas and Idomeneus, alike Panted to pierce each other with the spear. Æneas, first, cast at Idomeneus, But, warn'd, he shunn'd the weapon, and it pass'd. Quivering in the soil Æneas' lance Stood, hurl'd in vain, though by a forceful arm. Not so the Cretan; at his waist he pierced Oenomaüs, his hollow corselet clave, And in his midmost bowels drench'd the spear; Down fell the Chief, and dying, clench'd the dust. Instant, his massy spear the King of Crete Pluck'd from the dead, but of his radiant arms Despoil'd him not, by numerous weapons urged; For now, time-worn, he could no longer make Brisk sally, spring to follow his own spear, Or shun another, or by swift retreat Vanish from battle, but the evil day Warded in stationary fight alone. At him retiring, therefore, step by step Deiphobus, who had with bitterest hate Long time pursued him, hurl'd his splendid lance, But yet again erroneous, for he pierced Ascalaphus instead, offspring of Mars; Right through his shoulder flew the spear; he fell Incontinent, and dying, clench'd the dust. But tidings none the brazen-throated Mars Tempestuous yet received, that his own son In bloody fight had fallen, for on the heights Olympian over-arch'd with clouds of gold He sat, where sat the other Powers divine, Prisoners together of the will of Jove. Meantime, for slain Ascalaphus arose Conflict severe; Deiphobus his casque Resplendent seized, but swift as fiery Mars Assailing him, Meriones his arm Pierced with a spear, and from his idle hand Fallen, the casque sonorous struck the ground. Again, as darts the vulture on his prey, Meriones assailing him, the lance Pluck'd from his arm, and to his band retired. Then, casting his fraternal arms around Deiphobus, him young Polites led From the hoarse battle to his rapid steeds And his bright chariot in the distant rear, Which bore him back to Troy, languid and loud- Groaning, and bleeding from his recent wound. Still raged the war, and infinite arose The clamor. Aphareus, Caletor's son, Turning to face Æneas, in his throat Instant the hero's pointed lance received. With head reclined, and bearing to the ground Buckler and helmet with him, in dark shades Of soul-divorcing death involved, he fell. Antilochus, observing Thoön turn'd To flight, that moment pierced him; from his back He ripp'd the vein which through the trunk its course Winds upward to the neck; that vein he ripp'd All forth; supine he fell, and with both hands Extended to his fellow-warriors, died. Forth sprang Antilochus to strip his arms, But watch'd, meantime, the Trojans, who in crowds Encircling him, his splendid buckler broad Smote oft, but none with ruthless point prevail'd Even to inscribe the skin of Nestor's son, Whom Neptune, shaker of the shores, amid Innumerable darts kept still secure. Yet never from his foes he shrank, but faced From side to side, nor idle slept his spear, But with rotation ceaseless turn'd and turn'd To every part, now levell'd at a foe Far-distant, at a foe, now, near at hand. Nor he, thus occupied, unseen escaped By Asius' offspring Adamas, who close Advancing, struck the centre of his shield. But Neptune azure-hair'd so dear a life Denied to Adamas, and render'd vain The weapon; part within his disk remain'd Like a seer'd stake, and part fell at his feet. Then Adamas, for his own life alarm'd, Retired, but as he went, Meriones Him reaching with his lance, the shame between And navel pierced him, where the stroke of Mars Proves painful most to miserable man. There enter'd deep the weapon; down he fell, And in the dust lay panting as an ox Among the mountains pants by peasants held In twisted bands, and dragg'd perforce along; So panted dying Adamas, but soon Ceased, for Meriones, approaching, pluck'd The weapon forth, and darkness veil'd his eyes. Helenus, with his heavy Thracian blade Smiting the temples of Deipyrus, Dash'd off his helmet; from his brows remote It fell, and wandering roll'd, till at his feet Some warrior found it, and secured; meantime The sightless shades of death him wrapp'd around. Grief at that spectacle the bosom fill'd Of valiant Menelaus; high he shook His radiant spear, and threatening him, advanced On royal Helenus, who ready stood With his bow bent. They met; impatient, one, To give his pointed lance its rapid course, And one, to start his arrow from the nerve. The arrow of the son of Priam struck Atrides' hollow corselet, but the reed Glanced wide. As vetches or as swarthy beans Leap from the van and fly athwart the floor, By sharp winds driven, and by the winnower's force, So from the corselet of the glorious Greek Wide-wandering flew the bitter shaft away. But Menelaus the left-hand transpierced Of Helenus, and with the lance's point Fasten'd it to his bow; shunning a stroke More fatal, Helenus into his band Retired, his arm dependent at his side, And trailing, as he went, the ashen beam; There, bold Agenor from his hand the lance Drew forth, then folded it with softest wool Around, sling-wool, and borrow'd from the sling Which his attendant into battle bore. Then sprang Pisander on the glorious Chief The son of Atreus, but his evil fate Beckon'd him to his death in conflict fierce, Oh Menelaus, mighty Chief! with thee. And now they met, small interval between. Atrides hurl'd his weapon, and it err'd. Pisander with his spear struck full the shield Of glorious Menelaus, but his force Resisted by the stubborn buckler broad Fail'd to transpierce it, and the weapon fell Snapp'd at the neck. Yet, when he struck, the heart Rebounded of Pisander, full of hope. But Menelaus, drawing his bright blade, Sprang on him, while Pisander from behind His buckler drew a brazen battle-axe By its long haft of polish'd olive-wood, And both Chiefs struck together. He the crest That crown'd the shaggy casque of Atreus' son Hew'd from its base, but Menelaus him In his swift onset smote full on the front Above his nose; sounded the shatter'd bone, And his eyes both fell bloody at his feet. Convolved with pain he lay; then, on his breast Atrides setting fast his heel, tore off His armor, and exulting thus began.
Haidee looked up abruptly, as if the sonorous tones of Monte Cristo's voice had awakened her from a dream; and she resumed her narrative. "It was about four o'clock in the afternoon, and although the day was brilliant out-of-doors, we were enveloped in the gloomy darkness of the cavern. One single, solitary light was burning there, and it appeared like a star set in a heaven of blackness; it was Selim's flaming lance. My mother was a Christian, and she prayed. Selim repeated from time to time the sacred words: 'God is great!' However, my mother had still some hope. As she was coming down, she thought she recognized the French officer who had been sent to Constantinople, and in whom my father placed so much confidence; for he knew that all the soldiers of the French emperor were naturally noble and generous. She advanced some steps towards the staircase, and listened. 'They are approaching,' said she; 'perhaps they bring us peace and liberty!'--'What do you fear, Vasiliki?' said Selim, in a voice at once so gentle and yet so proud. 'If they do not bring us peace, we will give them war; if they do not bring life, we will give them death.' And he renewed the flame of his lance with a gesture which made one think of Dionysus of Crete. [*] But I, being only a little child, was terrified by this undaunted courage, which appeared to me both ferocious and senseless, and I recoiled with horror from the idea of the frightful death amidst fire and flames which probably awaited us.
"Astonish'd at their voices and their sight, (Nor were they dreams, but visions of the night; I saw, I knew their faces, and descried, In perfect view, their hair with fillets tied;) I started from my couch; a clammy sweat On all my limbs and shiv'ring body sate. To heav'n I lift my hands with pious haste, And sacred incense in the flames I cast. Thus to the gods their perfect honors done, More cheerful, to my good old sire I run, And tell the pleasing news. In little space He found his error of the double race; Not, as before he deem'd, deriv'd from Crete; No more deluded by the doubtful seat: Then said: 'O son, turmoil'd in Trojan fate! Such things as these Cassandra did relate. This day revives within my mind what she Foretold of Troy renew'd in Italy, And Latian lands; but who could then have thought That Phrygian gods to Latium should be brought, Or who believ'd what mad Cassandra taught? Now let us go where Phoebus leads the way.'
27:7. And when for many days we had sailed slowly and were scarce come over against Gnidus, the wind not suffering us, we sailed near Crete by Salmone.
He ceased, with whose advice all, glad, complied. Then Ajax with Idomeneus of Crete, Teucer, Meriones, and Meges fierce As Mars in battle, summoning aloud The noblest Greeks, in opposition firm To Hector and his host their bands prepared, While others all into the fleet retired. Troy's crowded host struck first. With awful strides Came Hector foremost; him Apollo led, His shoulders wrapt in clouds, and, on his arm, The Ægis shagg'd terrific all around, Tempestuous, dazzling-bright; it was a gift To Jove from Vulcan, and design'd to appall, And drive to flight the armies of the earth. Arm'd with that shield Apollo led them on. Firm stood the embodied Greeks; from either host Shrill cries arose; the arrows from the nerve Leap'd, and, by vigorous arms dismiss'd, the spears Flew frequent; in the flesh some stood infixt Of warlike youths, but many, ere they reach'd The mark they coveted, unsated fell Between the hosts, and rested in the soil. Long as the God unagitated held The dreadful disk, so long the vollied darts Made mutual slaughter, and the people fell; But when he look'd the Grecian charioteers Full in the face and shook it, raising high Himself the shout of battle, then he quell'd Their spirits, then he struck from every mind At once all memory of their might in arms. As when two lions in the still, dark night A herd of beeves scatter or numerous flock Suddenly, in the absence of the guard, So fled the heartless Greeks, for Phoebus sent Terrors among them, but renown conferr'd And triumph proud on Hector and his host. Then, in that foul disorder of the field, Man singled man. Arcesilaüs died By Hector's arm, and Stichius; one, a Chief Of the Boeotians brazen-mail'd, and one, Menestheus' faithful follower to the fight. Æneas Medon and Iäsus slew. Medon was spurious offspring of divine Oïleus Ajax' father, and abode In Phylace; for he had slain a Chief Brother of Eriopis the espoused Of brave Oïleus; but Iäsus led A phalanx of Athenians, and the son Of Sphelus, son of Bucolus was deem'd. Pierced by Polydamas Mecisteus fell, Polites, in the van of battle, slew Echion, and Agenor Clonius; But Paris, while Deïochus to flight Turn'd with the routed van, pierced him beneath His shoulder-blade, and urged the weapon through.
Idomeneus, spear-practised warrior, led The numerous Cretans. In twice forty ships He brought his powers to Troy. The warlike bands Of Cnossus, of Gortyna wall'd around, Of Lyctus, of Lycastus chalky-white, Of Phæstus, of Miletus, with the youth Of Rhytius him obey'd; nor these were all, But others from her hundred cities Crete Sent forth, all whom Idomeneus the brave Commanded, with Meriones in arms Dread as the God of battles blood-imbrued.
To whom Idomeneus of Crete replied, Atrides! all the friendship and the love Which I have promised will I well perform. Go; animate the rest, Chief after Chief Of the Achaians, that the fight begin. For Troy has scatter'd to the winds all faith, All conscience; and for such her treachery foul Shall have large recompence of death and wo.
A gentle joyousness--a mighty mildness of repose in swiftness, invested the gliding whale. Not the white bull Jupiter swimming away with ravished Europa clinging to his graceful horns; his lovely, leering eyes sideways intent upon the maid; with smooth bewitching fleetness, rippling straight for the nuptial bower in Crete; not Jove, not that great majesty Supreme! did surpass the glorified White Whale as he so divinely swam.
To whom, Eumæus, thou didst thus reply. Were those Achaians silent, thou shouldst hear, O Queen! a tale that would console thy heart. Three nights I housed him, and within my cot Three days detain'd him, (for his ship he left A fugitive, and came direct to me) But half untold his hist'ry still remains. As when his eye one fixes on a bard From heav'n instructed in such themes as charm The ear of mortals, ever as he sings The people press, insatiable, to hear, So, in my cottage, seated at my side, That stranger with his tale enchanted me. Laertes, he affirms, hath been his guest Erewhile in Crete, where Minos' race resides, And thence he hath arrived, after great loss, A suppliant to the very earth abased; He adds, that in Thesprotia's neighbour realm He of Ulysses heard, both that he lives, And that he comes laden with riches home.
To whom, Eumæus, thou didst thus reply, Alas! my most compassionable guest! Thou hast much moved me by this tale minute Of thy sad wand'rings and thy num'rous woes. But, speaking of Ulysses, thou hast pass'd All credence; I at least can give thee none. Why, noble as thou art, should'st thou invent Palpable falsehoods? as for the return Of my regretted Lord, myself I know That had he not been hated by the Gods Unanimous, he had in battle died At Troy, or (that long doubtful war, at last, Concluded,) in his people's arms at home. Then universal Greece had raised his tomb, And he had even for his son atchiev'd Immortal glory; but alas! by beaks Of harpies torn, unseemly sight, he lies. Here is my home the while; I never seek The city, unless summon'd by discrete Penelope to listen to the news Brought by some stranger, whencesoe'er arrived. Then, all, alike inquisitive, attend, Both who regret the absence of our King, And who rejoice gratuitous to gorge His property; but as for me, no joy Find I in list'ning after such reports, Since an Ætolian cozen'd me, who found (After long wand'ring over various lands A fugitive for blood) my lone retreat. Him warm I welcom'd, and with open arms Receiv'd, who bold affirm'd that he had seen My master with Idomeneus at Crete His ships refitting shatter'd by a storm, And that in summer with his godlike band He would return, bringing great riches home, Or else in autumn. And thou ancient guest Forlorn! since thee the Gods have hither led, Seek not to gratify me with untruths And to deceive me, since for no such cause I shall respect or love thee, but alone By pity influenced, and the fear of Jove.
So saying, he went, and Ajax, godlike Chief, Follow'd him. At the voice arrived, they found Ulysses Jove-beloved compass'd about By Trojans, as the lynxes in the hills, Adust for blood, compass an antler'd stag Pierced by an archer; while his blood is warm And his limbs pliable, from him he 'scapes; But when the feather'd barb hath quell'd his force, In some dark hollow of the mountain's side, The hungry troop devour him; chance, the while, Conducts a lion thither, before whom All vanish, and the lion feeds alone; So swarm'd the Trojan powers, numerous and bold, Around Ulysses, who with wary skill Heroic combated his evil day. But Ajax came, cover'd with his broad shield That seem'd a tower, and at Ulysses' side Stood fast; then fled the Trojans wide-dispersed, And Menelaus led him by the hand Till his own chariot to his aid approach'd. But Ajax, springing on the Trojans, slew Doryclus, from the loins of Priam sprung, But spurious. Pandocus he wounded next, Then wounded Pyrasus, and after him Pylartes and Lysander. As a flood Runs headlong from the mountains to the plain After long showers from Jove; many a dry oak And many a pine the torrent sweeps along, And, turbid, shoots much soil into the sea, So, glorious Ajax troubled wide the field, Horse and man slaughtering, whereof Hector yet Heard not; for on the left of all the war He fought beside Scamander, where around Huge Nestor, and Idomeneus the brave, Most deaths were dealt, and loudest roar'd the fight. There Hector toil'd, feats wonderful of spear And horsemanship achieving, and the lines Of many a phalanx desolating wide. Nor even then had the bold Greeks retired, But that an arrow triple-barb'd, dispatch'd By Paris, Helen's mate, against the Chief Machaon warring with distinguish'd force, Pierced his right shoulder. For his sake alarm'd, The valor-breathing Grecians fear'd, lest he In that disast'rous field should also fall. At once, Idomeneus of Crete approach'd The noble Nestor, and him thus bespake.
I boast me sprung from ancestry renown'd In spacious Crete; son of a wealthy sire, Who other sons train'd num'rous in his house, Born of his wedded wife; but he begat Me on his purchased concubine, whom yet Dear as his other sons in wedlock born Castor Hylacides esteem'd and lov'd, For him I boast my father. Him in Crete, While yet he liv'd, all reverenc'd as a God, So rich, so prosp'rous, and so blest was he With sons of highest praise. But death, the doom Of all, him bore to Pluto's drear abode, And his illustrious sons among themselves Portion'd his goods by lot; to me, indeed, They gave a dwelling, and but little more, Yet, for my virtuous qualities, I won A wealthy bride, for I was neither vain Nor base, forlorn as thou perceiv'st me now. But thou canst guess, I judge, viewing the straw What once was in the ear. Ah! I have borne Much tribulation; heap'd and heavy woes. Courage and phalanx-breaking might had I From Mars and Pallas; at what time I drew, (Planning some dread exploit) an ambush forth Of our most valiant Chiefs, no boding fears Of death seized _me_, but foremost far of all I sprang to fight, and pierced the flying foe. Such was I once in arms. But household toils Sustain'd for children's sake, and carking cares T' enrich a family, were not for me. My pleasures were the gallant bark, the din Of battle, the smooth spear and glitt'ring shaft, Objects of dread to others, but which me The Gods disposed to love and to enjoy. Thus diff'rent minds are diff'rently amused; For ere Achaia's fleet had sailed to Troy, Nine times was I commander of an host Embark'd against a foreign foe, and found In all those enterprizes great success. From the whole booty, first, what pleased me most Chusing, and sharing also much by lot I rapidly grew rich, and had thenceforth Among the Cretans rev'rence and respect. But when loud-thund'ring Jove that voyage dire Ordain'd, which loos'd the knees of many a Greek, Then, to Idomeneus and me they gave The charge of all their fleet, which how to avoid We found not, so importunate the cry Of the whole host impell'd us to the task. There fought we nine long years, and in the tenth (Priam's proud city pillag'd) steer'd again Our galleys homeward, which the Gods dispersed. Then was it that deep-planning Jove devised For me much evil. One short month, no more, I gave to joys domestic, in my wife Happy, and in my babes, and in my wealth, When the desire seiz'd me with sev'ral ships Well-rigg'd, and furnish'd all with gallant crews, To sail for Ægypt; nine I fitted forth, To which stout mariners assembled fast. Six days the chosen partners of my voyage Feasted, to whom I num'rous victims gave For sacrifice, and for their own regale. Embarking on the sev'nth from spacious Crete, Before a clear breeze prosp'rous from the North We glided easily along, as down A river's stream; nor one of all my ships Damage incurr'd, but healthy and at ease We sat, while gales well-managed urged us on. The fifth day thence, smooth-flowing Nile we reach'd, And safe I moor'd in the Ægyptian stream. Then, charging all my mariners to keep Strict watch for preservation of the ships, I order'd spies into the hill-tops; but they Under the impulse of a spirit rash And hot for quarrel, the well-cultur'd fields Pillaged of the Ægyptians, captive led Their wives and little ones, and slew the men. Soon was the city alarm'd, and at the cry Down came the citizens, by dawn of day, With horse and foot, and with the gleam of arms Filling the plain. Then Jove with panic dread Struck all my people; none found courage more To stand, for mischiefs swarm'd on ev'ry side. There, num'rous by the glittering spear we fell Slaughter'd, while others they conducted thence Alive to servitude. But Jove himself My bosom with this thought inspired, (I would That, dying, I had first fulfill'd my fate In Ægypt, for new woes were yet to come!) Loosing my brazen casque, and slipping off My buckler, there I left them on the field, Then cast my spear away, and seeking, next, The chariot of the sov'reign, clasp'd his knees, And kiss'd them. He, by my submission moved, Deliver'd me, and to his chariot-seat Raising, convey'd me weeping to his home. With many an ashen spear his warriors sought To slay me, (for they now grew fiery wroth) But he, through fear of hospitable Jove, Chief punisher of wrong, saved me alive. Sev'n years I there abode, and much amass'd Among the Ægyptians, gifted by them all; But, in the eighth revolving year, arrived A shrewd Phœnician, in all fraud adept, Hungry, and who had num'rous harm'd before, By whom I also was cajoled, and lured T' attend him to Phœnicia, where his house And his possessions lay; there I abode A year complete his inmate; but (the days And months accomplish'd of the rolling year, And the new seasons ent'ring on their course) To Lybia then, on board his bark, by wiles He won me with him, partner of the freight Profess'd, but destin'd secretly to sale, That he might profit largely by my price. Not unsuspicious, yet constrain'd to go, With this man I embark'd. A cloudless gale Propitious blowing from the North, our ship Ran right before it through the middle sea, In the offing over Crete; but adverse Jove Destruction plann'd for them and death the while. For, Crete now left afar, and other land Appearing none, but sky alone and sea, Right o'er the hollow bark Saturnian Jove A cloud cærulean hung, dark'ning the Deep. Then, thund'ring oft, he hurl'd into the bark His bolts; she smitten by the fires of Jove, Quaked all her length; with sulphur fill'd she reek'd, And, o'er her sides precipitated, plunged Like gulls the crew, forbidden by that stroke Of wrath divine to hope their country more. But Jove himself, when I had cast away All hope of life, conducted to my arms The strong tall mast, that I might yet escape. Around that beam I clung, driving before The stormy blast. Nine days complete I drove, And, on the tenth dark night, the rolling flood Immense convey'd me to Thesprotia's shore. There me the Hero Phidon, gen'rous King Of the Thesprotians, freely entertained; For his own son discov'ring me with toil Exhausted and with cold, raised me, and thence Led me humanely to his father's house, Who cherish'd me, and gave me fresh attire. There heard I of Ulysses, whom himself Had entertain'd, he said, on his return To his own land; he shew'd me also gold, Brass, and bright steel elab'rate, whatsoe'er Ulysses had amass'd, a store to feed A less illustrious family than his To the tenth generation, so immense His treasures in the royal palace lay. Himself, he said, was to Dodona gone, There, from the tow'ring oaks of Jove to ask Counsel divine, if openly to land (After long absence) in his opulent realm Of Ithaca, be best, or in disguise. To me the monarch swore, in his own hall Pouring libation, that the ship was launch'd, And the crew ready for his conduct home. But me he first dismiss'd, for, as it chanced, A ship lay there of the Thesprotians, bound To green Dulichium's isle. He bade the crew Bear me to King Acastus with all speed; But them far other thoughts pleased more, and thoughts Of harm to me, that I might yet be plunged In deeper gulphs of woe than I had known. For, when the billow-cleaving bark had left The land remote, framing, combined, a plot Against my liberty, they stripp'd my vest And mantle, and this tatter'd raiment foul Gave me instead, which thy own eyes behold. At even-tide reaching the cultur'd coast Of Ithaca, they left me bound on board With tackle of the bark, and quitting ship Themselves, made hasty supper on the shore. But me, meantime, the Gods easily loos'd By their own pow'r, when, with wrapper vile Around my brows, sliding into the sea At the ship's stern, I lay'd me on the flood. With both hands oaring thence my course, I swam Till past all ken of theirs; then landing where Thick covert of luxuriant trees I mark'd, Close couchant down I lay; they mutt'ring loud, Paced to and fro, but deeming farther search Unprofitable, soon embark'd again. Thus baffling all their search with ease, the Gods Conceal'd and led me thence to the abode Of a wise man, dooming me still to live.