"It was already the morning of the following day, | and clear dawn had the damp veil | taken from the world; when behold from the woods | one encounters something never seen elsewhere Achaemenides | of strange and miserable appearance, | gaunt, haggard and destroyed: a figure | more of a mummy than of a man. He had a beard | long, unkempt hair, I wear a cloak | sewn up with thorns: all horrid, | and squalid and deformed, with hands | towards the shore stretched out, at a slow pace | venía merci asking."