“When in a dream presented to our view,
    Those airy forms appear so like the true;
    Nor heaven nor hell the fancy’d visions sends,
    But every breast its own delusion lends: 
    For when soft sleep the body wraps in ease,
    And from th’ unactive mass our fancy frees,
    Whatever ’tis in which we take delight,
    And think of most by day, we dream at night. 
    Thus he, the now sackt city justly fear’d,
    Who all around had death and ruin shar’d. 
    From fancy’d darts believes a darkned sky,
    And troops retreating in confusion fly: 
    There the sad funeral pomp of kings; here
    Conscious plains, half drown’d in blood, appear
    He that by day has nois’d it at the bar,
    Of knaves and fools now sees the great resort,
    And to meet justice vainly fears in court. 
    Misers amidst their heaps are raising new,
    And think they oft their old hid treasure view. 
    And huntsmen the imagin’d chace pursue. 
    The merchant dreams of wrecks, the ship wou’d save,
    Or now, by sinking it, himself preserve. 
    The mistress to her distant lover writes;
    And, as awake, with flames and darts indites: 
    The good wife dreaming of her stallion’s charms,
    Oft seeks the pleasure in her cuckold’s arms. 
    Dogs on full cry, in sleep, the hare pursue,
    And hapless wretches their old griefs renew.”

But Lycas, when he had thank’d his stars for their care of him, “That we may not seem,” said he, “to condemn the divine powers, what hinders but we search the vessel?”

Upon which one AEsius, the passenger that had discover’d us by our reflection in the water, cry’d out, “these are the men that were shav’d by moonshine to night.  Heaven avert the omen!  I thought the ceremony of cutting the nails and hair, was never perform’d but as a solemn sacrifice to appease a storm.”

“Is ’t so,” says Lycas, in a great heat, “did any in the ship offer to shave themselves, and at midnight too?  Bring ’em quickly hither, that I may know who they are that deserve to die a sacrifice for our safety.”

“’Twas I,” quoth Eumolpus, “commanded it, not wishing ill to the ship, but ease to my self; for they are my slaves, and having long staring hairs, I order’d the uncomely sight to be taken away; not only that I might not seem to make a prison of the ship; but that the mark of their villany might more plainly appear; and to let you know how richly they deserve the punishment; among other rogueries, they rob’d me of a considerable sum of money, and spent it with all the luxury of rich debauches, on a trull that was at both their services, whom I catcht them with last night.  In short, they yet smell of the wine they profusely gave themselves with my money.”