So unexpected a thing drove the colour from our cheeks; I especially, as in a trance, was a long time speechless; when, trembling with fear, I pull’d Eumolpus by the coat, who was now asleep; and “I beseech you, father,” said I, “do you know the owner of this vessel, or who the passengers are?” He was very angry to be disturbed:  “And was it for this reason,” said he, “that we chose the most private place in the ship; that none but your self might disturb us:  or what will it signifie if I tell you, that one Lycas a Tarentine owns her, and is carrying one Tryphoena to Tarentum?”

For a while I stood like one thunder-struck, when opening my bosom, I trembling, cry’d out; “At last, Fortune, you have ruin’d every part of me:”  for Gito, my better half, lean’d on my breast, as if he had breath’d his last:  when our sweating through fear, had a little recover’d our spirits:  I fell at Eumolpus feet, and intreated him to have compassion of two dying wretches:  that is, to assist us in the means of escaping the impending mischief:  “Tho’ death,” I added, “wou’d be more grateful to us, if the happiness of enjoying you, did not make us envy life.”

Eumolpus was glad to serve us, and swore by all that’s sacred, he was privy to no design against us; and that he had very innocently brought us hither, for no other end, than for our company, having hir’d the vessel before he was acquainted with us:  “But what designs on your lives are here?” added he, “Or have we a pyrate Hannibal on board?” “Lycas,” continued he, “a very honourable man, is not only master and owner of this vessel, but of a good estate, and having inclinations to traffick, freights his vessel himself:  Is this the terrible Cyclops?  Is this the dreadful cut-throat, we must pay our carriage to?  And besides him, is the beautiful Tryphoena that other emblem of terrour, who for her pleasure only goes with Lycas.”

“These are the very two,” reply’d Gito, “we strove to avoid”:  and, in a low voice, made Eumolpus, that trembled at the story, at once understand the occasions of their malice to us, and our present danger.

Eumolpus was so distracted in his thoughts, he cou’d not advise, but bid each of us give him his opinion; “And presume,” says he, “we had just enter’d the Cyclops den, where Jove’s thunderbolts are made.  We must seek a means of delivery, except we design to free us from all danger, by sinking the vessel.”

“No, no,” began Gito, “rather offer the pilot a reward, to direct the vessel to some port:  and affirm the sea so disagrees with your friend, that if he is not so kind, you fear he’ll dye:  you may colour the pretence with tears, and appear much concern’d, that, mov’d with compassion, the pilot may befriend you.”