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I am betimes sensible of the little breezes that begin to sing and whistle within, forerunners of the storm: "Ceu flamina prima Cum deprensa fremunt sylvis et caeca volutant Murmura, venturos nautis prodentia ventos."
Margari used only to laugh when his wife began nagging at him. "Alios jam vidi ego ventos, aliasque procellas," he would say. He was only too glad to have a home of his own at all. "Don't worry, woman!" he would say with reference to the furniture, "when that's worn out, I'll buy some more. John Lapussa, Esq., will give me whatever I want."
He sailed up the ruddy Paraná to Rosario and Colastiné, in order to load Argentine wheat; he anchored in the amber waters of Uruguay opposite Paysandú and Fray Ventos, taking on board hides destined to Europe and salt for the Antilles. From the Pacific he sailed up the Guayas bordered with an equatorial vegetation, in search of cocoa from Guayaquil.
"Volans liquidis in nubibus arsit arundo Signavitque viam flammis, tenuisque recessit Consumta in ventos." Bacon fixed his eye on a mark which was placed on the earth, and within bow-shot, and hit it in the white.
In helping to disband his party, he had cashiered himself; and there remained to him now, for the residue of his days, but that frailest of all sublunary treasures, a Prince's friendship. "dextra crinem secat, omnis et una Dilapsus calor, atque in ventos vita recessit."
"How loudly," said Clarence, "that last gust swept by; you remember that beautiful couplet in Tibullus, "Ay," answered Mordaunt, with a scarcely audible sigh, "that is the feeling of the lover at the immites ventos, but we sages of the lamp make our mistress Wisdom, and when the winds rage without it is to her that we cling. See how, from the same object, different conclusions are drawn!
So Medea in Ovid's Metamorphoses, Stantia concutio cantu freta; nubila pello, Nubilaque induco, ventos abigoque, vocoque; Vivaque faxa sua convulsaque robora terra Et sylvas moveo; jubeoque tremiscere montes, Et mugire solum, manesque exire sepulchris.
"How loudly," said Clarence, "that last gust swept by; you remember that beautiful couplet in Tibullus, "Ay," answered Mordaunt, with a scarcely audible sigh, "that is the feeling of the lover at the immites ventos, but we sages of the lamp make our mistress Wisdom, and when the winds rage without it is to her that we cling. See how, from the same object, different conclusions are drawn!
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