while the actual port-hole wall, as if inviting him to jump, shoved
itself at right angles under his feet--during which the port-hole was
wholly under water and the cabin in darkness.

It is no easy matter to dress and undress in an oscillating room. That
the vessel's motion could have changed so markedly within the one hour
since he left the cabin, astonished Frederick. The simple operation of
drawing off his boots and trousers, finding others in his trunk, and
putting them on again became a gymnastic feat. He had to laugh, and
comparisons occurred to him, which made him laugh still more. But his
laughter was not heartfelt. Each time he received a knock, or had to
jump to regain his balance, he muttered exclamations and instinctively
contrasted all this with the comfortable waking up from sleep in his own
house. Groaning and labouring, he said to himself:

"My whole personality is being shaken through and through. I was mistaken
when I supposed that I had already got my shaking up these last two
years. I thought fate was shaking me. Now, both my fate and I are being
shaken. I thought there was tragedy in me. Now, I and my tragedy are
bowling about in this creaking cage, and are being disgraced in our own
eyes.

"I have a habit of pondering over everything. I think about the beak
of the ship, which buries itself in each new wave. I think about the
laughter of the steerage passengers, those poor, poor people, who, I
am sure, scarcely have a gay time of it. My sousing was a treat to them.
I think of the rapscallion, Wilke, who married a humpbacked seamstress,
ran through her savings, and abused her daily--and I almost embraced
him. I think of the blond Teuton, Captain von Kessel, that handsome man,
somewhat too insipid-looking and too thick-set, who is our absolute lord