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The reusable bubble toysOdyssey

by Homer

DONE INTO ENGLISH PROSE

by
S. H. BUTCHER, M.A.
Fellow and Protector of University College, Oxford
Late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge

AND

A. LANG, M.A.
Late Fellow of Merton College, Oxford

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Contents

PREFACE.

PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.

INTRODUCTION.

The Odyssey

BOOK I.

BOOK II.

BOOK III.

BOOK IV.

BOOK V.

BOOK VI.

BOOK VII.

BOOK VIII.

BOOK IX.

BOOK X.

BOOK XI.

BOOK XII.

BOOK XIII.

BOOK XIV.

BOOK XV.

BOOK XVI.

BOOK XVII.

BOOK XVIII.

BOOK XIX.

BOOK XX.

BOOK XXI.

BOOK XXII.

BOOK XXIII.

BOOK XXIV.

As one that for a weary space has lain
  Lulled by the song of Circe and her wine
  In gardens near the pale of Proserpine,
Where that Ææan isle forgets the main,
And only the low lutes of love complain,
  And only shadows of wan lovers pine,
  As such an one were glad to know the brine
Salt on his lips, and the large air again,
So gladly, from the songs of modern speech
  Men turn, and see the stars, and feel the free
    Shrill wind beyond the close of heavy flowers,
    And through the music of the languid hours
They hear like Ocean on a western beach
  The surge and thunder of the Odyssey.

A. L.

PREFACE.

There would have been less controversy about the proper method of Homerictranslation, if critics had recognised that the question is a purely relativeone, that of Homer there can be no final translation. The taste and theliterary habits of each age demand different qualities in poetry, and thereforea different sort of rendering of Homer. To the men of the time of Elizabeth,Homer would have appeared bald, it seems, and lacking in ingenuity, if he hadbeen presented in his antique simplicity. For the Elizabethan age, Chapmansupplied what was then necessary, and the mannerisms that were then deemed ofthe essence of poetry, namely, daring and luxurious conceits. Thus inChapman’s verse Troy must “shed her towers for tears ofoverthrow,” and when the winds toss Odysseus about, their sport must becalled “the horrid tennis.”

In the age of Anne, “dignity” and “correctness” had tobe given to Homer, and Pope gave them by aid of his dazzling rhetoric, hisantitheses, his netteté, his command of every conventional and favouriteartifice. Without Chapman’s conceits, Homer’s poems would hardlyhave been what the Elizabethans took for poetry; without Pope’ssmoothness, and Pope’s points, the Iliad and Odyssey would have seemedrude, and harsh in the age of Anne. These great translations must always liveas English poems. As transcripts of Homer they are like pictures drawn from alost point of view. Chaque siècle depuis le xvi^ea eu de ce côtéson belvéder différent. Again, when Europe woke to a sense, an almostexaggerated and certainly uncritical sense, of the value of her songs of thepeople, of all the ballads that Herder, Scott, Lonnrot, and the rest collected,it was commonly said that Homer was a ballad-minstrel, that the translator mustimitate the simplicity, and even adopt the formulae of the ballad. Hence camethe renderings of Maginn, the experiments of Mr. Gladstone, and others. Therewas some excuse for the error of critics who asked for a Homer in ballad rhyme.The Epic poet, the poet of gods and heroes, did indeed inherit some of theformulae of the earlier Volks-lied. Homer, like the author of TheSong of Roland, like the singers of the Kalevala, uses constantlyrecurring epithets, and repeats, word for word, certain emphatic passages,messages, and so on. That custom is essential in the ballad, it is an accidentnot the essence of the epic. The epic is a poem of complete and elaborate art,but it still bears some birthmarks, some signs of the early popular chant, outof which it sprung, as the garden-rose springs from the wild stock, When thisis recognised the demand for ballad-like simplicity and“ballad-slang” ceases to exist, and then all Homeric translationsin the ballad manner cease to represent our conception of Homer. After thebelief in the ballad manner follows the recognition of the romantic vein inHomer, and, as a result, came Mr. Worsley’s admirable Odyssey. Thismasterly translation does all that can be done for the Odyssey in the romanticstyle. The smoothness of the verse, the wonderful closeness to the original,reproduce all of Homer, in music and in meaning, that can be rendered inEnglish verse. There still, however, seems an aspect Homeric poems, and ademand in connection with Homer to be recognised, and to be satisfied.

Sainte-Beuve says, with reference probably to M. Leconte de Lisle’s proseversion of the epics, that some people treat the epics too much as if they weresagas. Now the Homeric epics are sagas, but then they are the sagas of thedivine heroic age of Greece, and thus are told with an art which is not the artof the Northern poets. The epics are stories about the adventures of men livingin most respects like the men of our own race who dwelt in Iceland, Norway,Denmark, and Sweden. The epics are, in a way, and as far as manners andinstitutions are concerned, historical documents. Whoever regards them in thisway, must wish to read them exactly as they have reached us, without modernornament, with nothing added or omitted. He must recognise, with Mr. MatthewArnold, that what he now wants, namely, the simple truth about the matter ofthe poem, can only be given in prose, “for in a verse translation nooriginal work is any longer recognisable.” It is for this reason that wehave attempted to tell once more, in simple prose, the story of Odysseus. Wehave tried to transfer, not all the truth about the poem, but the historicaltruth, into English. In this process Homer must lose at least half his charm,his bright and equable speed, the musical current of that narrative, which,like the river of Egypt, flows from an indiscoverable source, and mirrors thetemples and the palaces of unforgotten gods and kings. Without this music ofverse, only a half truth about Homer can be told, but then it is that half ofthe truth which, at this moment, it seems most necessary to tell. This is thehalf of the truth that the translators who use verse cannot easily tell. Theymustbe adding to Homer, talking with Pope about “tracing the mazylev’ret o’er the lawn,” or with Mr. Worsley about the islandsthat are “stars of the blue Aegaean,” or with Dr. Hawtrey about“the earth’s soft arms,” when Homer says nothing at all aboutthe “mazy lev’ret,” or the “stars of the blueAegaean,” or the “soft arms” of earth. It would beimpertinent indeed to blame any of these translations in their place. They givethat which the romantic reader of poetry, or the student of the age of Anne,looks for in verse; and without tags of this sort, a translation of Homer inverse cannot well be made to hold together.

There can be then, it appears, no final English translation of Homer. In eachthere must be, in addition to what is Greek and eternal, the element of what ismodern, personal, and fleeting. Thus we trust that there may be room for“the pale and far-off shadow of a prose translation,” of which theaim is limited and humble. A prose translation cannot give the movement and thefire of a successful translation in verse; it only gathers, as it were, thecrumbs which fall from the richer table, only tells the story, without thesong. Yet to a prose translation is permitted, perhaps, that close adherence tothe archaisms of the epic, which in verse become mere oddities. The doubleepithets, the recurring epithets of Homer, if rendered into verse, delay andpuzzle the reader, as the Greek does not delay or puzzle him. In prose he mayendure them, or even care to study them as the survivals of a stage of taste,which is to be found in its prime in the sagas. These double and recurringepithets of Homer are a softer form of the quaint Northern periphrases, whichmake the sea the “swan’s bath,” gold, the“dragon’s hoard,” men, the “ring-givers,” and soon. We do not know whether it is necessary to defend our choice of a somewhatantiquated prose. Homer has no ideas which cannot be expressed in words thatare “old and plain,” and to words that are old and plain, and, as arule, to such terms as, being used by the Translators of the Bible, are stillnot unfamiliar, we have tried to restrict ourselves. It may be objected, thatthe employment of language which does not come spontaneously to the lips, is anaffectation out of place in a version of the Odyssey. To this we may answerthat the Greek Epic dialect, like the English of our Bible, was a thing of slowgrowth and composite nature, that it was never a spoken language, nor, exceptfor certain poetical purposes, a written language. Thus the Biblical Englishseems as nearly analogous to the Epic Greek, as anything that our tongue has tooffer.

The few foot-notes in this book are chiefly intended to make clear somepassages where there is a choice of reading. The notes at the end, which wewould like to have written in the form of essays, and in company with morecomplete philological and archaeological studies, are chiefly meant toelucidate the life of Homer’s men.

We have received much help from many friends, and especially from Mr. R. W.Raper, Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford and Mr. Gerald Balfour, Fellow ofTrinity College, Cambridge, who have aided us with many suggestions while thebook was passing through the press.

In the interpretation of B. i. 411, ii. 191, v. 90, and 471, we have departedfrom the received view, and followed Mr. Raper, who, however, has not been ableto read through the proof-sheets further than Book xii.

We have adopted La Roche’s text (Homeri Odyssea, J. La Roche, Leipzig,1867), except in a few cases where we mention our reading in a foot-note.

The Arguments prefixed to the Books are taken, with very slight alterations,from Hobbes’ Translation of the Odyssey.

It is hoped that the Introduction added to the second edition may illustratethe growth of those national legends on which Homer worked, and may elucidatethe plot of the Odyssey.

PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.

We owe our thanks to the Rev. E. Warre, of Eton College, for certaincorrections on nautical points. In particular, he has convinced us that theraft of Odysseus in B. v. is a raft strictly so called, and that it is not,under the poet’s description, elaborated into a ship, as has beencommonly supposed. The translation of the passage (B. v. 246-261) isaccordingly altered.

INTRODUCTION.

COMPOSITION AND PLOT OF THE ODYSSEY.

The Odysseyis generally supposed to be somewhat the later in date ofthe two most ancient Greek poems which are concerned with the events andconsequences of the Trojan war. As to the actual history of that war, it may besaid that nothing is known. We may conjecture that some contest between peoplesof more or less kindred stocks, who occupied the isles and the eastern andwestern shores of the Aegean, left a strong impression on the popular fancy.Round the memories of this contest would gather many older legends, myths, andstories, not peculiarly Greek or even “Aryan,” which previouslyfloated unattached, or were connected with heroes whose fame was swallowed upby that of a newer generation. It would be the work of minstrels, priests, andpoets, as the national spirit grew conscious of itself, to shape all thesematerials into a definite body of tradition. This is the rule ofdevelopment—first scattered stories, then the union of these into anationallegend. The growth of later national legends, which we are ableto trace, historically, has generally come about in this fashion. To take thebest known example, we are able to compare the real history of Charlemagne withthe old epic poems on his life and exploits. In these poems we find that factsare strangely exaggerated, and distorted; that purely fanciful additions aremade to the true records, that the more striking events of earlier history arecrowded into the legend of Charles, that mere fairy tales, current amongAfrican as well as European peoples, are transmuted into false history, andthat the anonymous characters of fairy tales are converted into historicalpersonages. We can also watch the process by which feigned genealogies wereconstructed, which connected the princely houses of France with the imaginaryheroes of the epics. The conclusion is that the poetical history of Charlemagnehas only the faintest relations to the true history. And we are justified insupposing that, quite as little of the real history of events can be extractedfrom the tale of Troy, as from the Chansons de Geste.

By the time the Odysseywas composed, it is certain that a poet hadbefore him a well-arranged mass of legends and traditions from which he mightselect his materials. The author of the Iliadhas an extremely full andcuriously consistent knowledge of the local traditions of Greece, the memorieswhich were cherished by Thebans, Pylians, people of Mycenae, of Argos, and soon. The Iliadand the Odysseyassume this knowledge in thehearers of the poems, and take for granted some acquaintance with otherlegends, as with the story of the Argonautic Expedition. Now that story itselfis a tissue of popular tales,—still current in many distantlands,—but all woven by the Greek genius into the history of Iason.

The history of the return of Odysseus as told in the Odyssey, is in thesame way, a tissue of old märchen. These must have existed for anunknown length of time before they gravitated into the cycle of the tale ofTroy.

The extraordinary artistic skill with which legends and myths, originallyunconnected with each other, are woven into the plot of the Odyssey, sothat the marvels of savage and barbaric fancy become indispensable parts of anartistic whole, is one of the chief proofs of the unity of authorship of thatpoem. We now go on to sketch the plot, which is a marvel of construction.

Odysseus was the King of Ithaca, a small and rugged island on the western coastof Greece. When he was but lately married to Penelope, and while his only sonTelemachus was still an infant, the Trojan war began. It is scarcely necessaryto say that the object of this war, as conceived of by the poets, was to winback Helen, the wife of Menelaus, from Paris, the son of Priam, King of Troy.As Menelaus was the brother of Agamemnon, the Emperor, so to speak, orrecognised chief of the petty kingdoms of Greece, the whole force of thesekingdoms was at his disposal. No prince came to the leaguer of Troy from a homemore remote than that of Odysseus. When Troy was taken, in the tenth year ofthe war, his homeward voyage was the longest and most perilous.

The action of the Odysseyoccupies but the last six weeks of the tenyears during which Odysseus was wandering. Two nights in these six weeks aretaken up, however, by his own narrative of his adventures (to the Phaeacians,p. xx) in the previous ten years. With this explanatory narrative we mustbegin, before coming to the regular action of the poem.

After the fall of Troy, Odysseus touched at Ismarus, the city of a Thracianpeople, whom he attacked and plundered, but by whom he was at last repulsed.The north wind then carried his ships to Malea, the extreme southern point ofGreece. Had he doubled Malea safely, he would probably have reached Ithaca in afew days, would have found Penelope unvexed by wooers, and Telemachus a boy often years old. But this was not to be.

The “ruinous winds” drove Odysseus and his ships for ten days, andon the tenth they touched the land of the Lotus-Eaters, whose flowery foodcauses sweet forgetfulness. Lotus-land was possibly in Western Libya, but it ismore probable that ten days’ voyage from the southern point of Greece,brought Odysseus into an unexplored region of fairy-land. Egypt, of which Homerhad some knowledge, was but five days’ sail from Crete.

Lotus-land, therefore, being ten days’ sail from Malea, was well over thelimit of the discovered world. From this country Odysseus went on till hereached the land of the lawless Cyclôpes, a pastoral people of giants. LaterGreece feigned that the Cyclôpes dwelt near Mount Etna, in Sicily. Homer leavestheir place of abode in the vague. Among the Cyclôpes, Odysseus had theadventure on which his whole fortunes hinged. He destroyed the eye of thecannibal giant, Polyphemus, a son of Poseidon, the God of the Sea. To avengethis act, Poseidon drove Odysseus wandering for ten long years, and onlysuffered him to land in Ithaca, “alone, in evil case, to find troubles inhis house.” This is a very remarkable point in the plot. The story of thecrafty adventurer and the blinding of the giant, with the punning device bywhich the hero escaped, exists in the shape of a detached märchenorfairy-tale among races who never heard of Homer. And when we find the storyamong Oghuzians, Esthonians, Basques, and Celts, it seems natural to supposethat these people did not break a fragment out of the Odyssey, but thatthe author of the Odysseytook possession of a legend out of the greattraditional store of fiction. From the wide distribution of the tale, there isreason to suppose that it is older than Homer, and that it was not originallytold of Odysseus, but was attached to his legend, as floating jests of unknownauthorship are attributed to eminent wits. It has been remarked with truth thatin this episode Odysseus acts out of character, that he is foolhardy as well ascunning. Yet the author of the Odyssey, so far from merely dove-tailingthis story at random into his narrative, has made his whole plot turn on theinjury to the Cyclops. Had he not foolishly exposed himself and his companions,by his visit to the Cyclops, Odysseus would never have been driven wanderingfor ten weary years. The prayers of the blinded Cyclops were heard andfulfilled by Poseidon.

From the land of the Cyclops, Odysseus and his company sailed to the Isle ofAeolus, the king of the winds. This place too is undefined; we only learn that,even with the most favourable gale, it was ten days’ sail from Ithaca. Inthe Isle of Aeolus Odysseus abode for a month, and then received from the kinga bag in which all the winds were bound, except that which was to waft the heroto his home. This sort of bag was probably not unfamiliar to superstitiousGreek sailors who had dealings with witches, like the modern wise women of theLapps. The companions of the hero opened the bag when Ithaca was in sight, thewinds rushed out, the ships were borne back to the Aeolian Isle, and thence thehero was roughly dismissed by Aeolus. Seven days’ sail brought him toLamos, a city of the cannibal Laestrygonians. Their country, too, is inNo-man’s-land, and nothing can be inferred from the fact that theirfountain was called Artacia, and that there was an Artacia in Cyzicus. In Lamosa very important adventure befel Odysseus. The cannibals destroyed all hisfleet, save one ship, with which he made his escape to the Isle of Circé. Herethe enchantress turned part of the crew into swine, but Odysseus, by aid of thegod Hermes, redeemed them, and became the lover of Circé. This adventure, likethe story of the Cyclops, is a fairy tale of great antiquity. Dr. Gerland, inhis Alt Griechische Märchen in der Odyssee, has shown that the storymakes part of the collection of Somadeva, a store of Indian tales, of which1200 A.D. is the approximate date. Circé appears as a Yackshini, and isconquered when an adventurer seizes her flute whose magic music turns men intobeasts. The Indian Circé had the habit of eating the animals into which shetransformed men.

We must suppose that the affairs with the Cicones, the Lotus-eaters, theCyclops, Aeolus, and the Laestrygonians, occupied most of the first year afterthe fall of Troy. A year was then spent in the Isle of Circé, after which thesailors were eager to make for home. Circé commanded them to go down to Hades,to learn the homeward way from the ghost of the Theban prophet Teiresias. Thedescent into hell, for some similar purpose, is common in the epics of otherraces, such as the Finns, and the South-Sea Islanders. The narrative ofOdysseus’s visit to the dead (book xi) is one of the most moving passagesin the whole poem.

From Teiresias Odysseus learned that, if he would bring his companions home, hemust avoid injuring the sacred cattle of the Sun, which pastured in the Isle ofThrinacia. If these were harmed, he would arrive in Ithaca alone, or in thewords of the Cyclops’s prayer, “in evil plight, with loss of allhis company, on board the ship of strangers, to find sorrow in hishouse.” On returning to the Isle Aeaean, Odysseus was warned by Circé ofthe dangers he would encounter. He and his friends set forth, escaped theSirens (a sort of mermaidens), evaded the Clashing Rocks, which close on ships(a fable known to the Aztecs), passed Scylla (the pieuvreof antiquity)with loss of some of the company, and reached Thrinacia, the Isle of the Sun.Here the company of Odysseus, constrained by hunger, devoured the sacred kineof the Sun, for which offence they were punished by a shipwreck, when all werelost save Odysseus. He floated ten days on a raft, and then reached the isle ofthe goddess Calypso, who kept him as her lover for eight years.

The first two years after the fall of Troy are now accounted for. They wereoccupied, as we have seen, by adventures with the Cicones, the Lotus-eaters,the Cyclops, Aeolus, the Laestrygonians, by a year’s residence withCircé, by the descent into Hades, the encounters with the Sirens, and Scylla,and the fatal sojourn in the isle of Thrinacia. We leave Odysseus alone, foreight years, consuming his own heart, in the island paradise of Calypso.

In Ithaca, the hero’s home, things seem to have passed smoothly tillabout the sixth year after the fall of Troy. Then the men of the youngergeneration, the island chiefs, began to woo Penelope, and to vex her sonTelemachus. Laertes, the father of Odysseus, was too old to help, and Penelopeonly gained time by her famous device of weaving and unweaving the web. Thewooers began to put compulsion on the Queen, quartering themselves upon her,devouring her substance, and insulting her by their relations with herhandmaids. Thus Penelope pined at home, amidst her wasting possessions.Telemachus fretted in vain, and Odysseus was devoured by grief andhome-sickness in the isle of Calypso. When he had lain there for nigh eightyears, the action of the Odysseybegins, and occupies about six weeks.

DAY 1 (Book i).

The ordainedtime has now arrived, when by the counsels of the Gods,Odysseus is to be brought home to free his house, to avenge himself on thewooers, and recover his kingdom. The chief agent in his restoration is PallasAthene; the first book opens with her prayer to Zeus that Odysseus may bedelivered. For this purpose Hermes is to be sent to Calypso to bid her releaseOdysseus, while Pallas Athene in the shape of Mentor, a friend of Odysseus,visits Telemachus in Ithaca. She bids him call an assembly of the people,dismiss the wooers to their homes, and his mother to her father’s house,and go in quest of his own father, in Pylos, the city of Nestor, and Sparta,the home of Menelaus. Telemachus recognises the Goddess, and the first daycloses.

DAY 2 (Book ii).

Telemachus assembles the people, but he has not the heart to carry outAthene’s advice. He cannot send the wooers away, nor turn his mother outof her house. He rather weakly appeals to the wooers’ consciences, andannounces his intention of going to seek his father. They answer with scorn,but are warned of their fate, which is even at the doors, by Halitherses. Hisprophecy (first made when Odysseus set out for Troy) tallies with the prophecyof Teiresias, and the prayer of the Cyclops. The reader will observe a seriesof portents, prophecies, and omens, which grow more numerous and admonishing astheir doom draws nearer to the wooers. Their hearts, however, are hardened, andthey mock at Telemachus, who, after an interview with Athene, borrows a shipand secretly sets out for Pylos. Athene accompanies him, and his friends manhis galley.

DAY 3 (Book iii).

They reach Pylos, and are kindly received by the aged Nestor, who has no newsabout Odysseus. After sacrifice, Athene disappears.

DAY 4 (Book iii).

The fourth day is occupied with sacrifice, and the talk of Nestor. In theevening Telemachus (leaving his ship and friends at Pylos) drives his chariotinto Pherae, half way to Sparta; Peisistratus, the son of Nestor, accompanieshim.

DAY 5 (Book iv).

Telemachus and Peisistratus arrive at Sparta, where Menelaus and Helen receivethem kindly.

DAY 6 (Book iv).

Menelaus tells how he himself came home in the eighth year after the fall ofTroy. He had heard from Proteus, the Old Man of the Sea, that Odysseus wasalive, and a captive on an island of the deep. Menelaus invites Telemachus tostay with him for eleven days or twelve, which Telemachus declines to do. Itwill later appear that he made an even longer stay at Sparta, though whether hechanged his mind, or whether we have here an inadvertence of the poet’sit is hard to determine. This blemish has been used as an argument against theunity of authorship, but writers of all ages have made graver mistakes.

On this same day (the sixth) the wooers in Ithaca learned that Telemachus hadreally set out to “cruise after his father.” They sent some oftheir number to lie in ambush for him, in a certain strait which he was likelyto pass on his return to Ithaca. Penelope also heard of her son’sdeparture, but was consoled by a dream.

DAY 7 (Book v).

The seventh day finds us again in Olympus. Athene again urges the release ofOdysseus; and Hermes is sent to bid Calypso let the hero go. Zeus propheciesthat after twenty days sailing, Odysseus will reach Scheria, and the hospitablePhaeacians, a people akin to the Gods, who will convey him to Ithaca. Hermesaccomplishes the message to Calypso.

DAYS 8-12-32 (Book v).

These days are occupied by Odysseus in making and launching a raft; on thetwelfth day from the beginning of the action he leaves Calypso’s isle. Hesails for eighteen days, and on the eighteenth day of his voyage (thetwenty-ninth from the beginning of the action), he sees Scheria. Poseidonraises a storm against him, and it is not till the thirty-second day from thatin which Athene visited Telemachus, that he lands in Scheria, the country ofthe Phaeacians. Here he is again in fairy land. A rough, but perfectlyrecognisable form of the Phaeacian myth, is found in an Indian collection ofmärchen(already referred to) of the twelfth century A.D. Here thePhaeacians are the Vidyâdhâris, and their old enemies the Cyclôpes, are theRakshashas, a sort of giants. The Indian Odysseus, who seeks the city of gold,passes by the home of an Indian Aeolus, Satyavrata. His later adventures areconfused, and the Greek version retains only the more graceful fancies of themärchen.

DAY 33 (Book vi).

Odysseus meets Nausicaa, daughter of Alcinous, the Phaeacian King, and by heraid, and that of Athene, is favourably received at the palace, and tells how hecame from Calypso’s island. His name is still unknown to his hosts.

DAY 34 (Books vii, viii, ix, x, xi, xii).

The Phaeacians and Odysseus display their skill in sports. Nausicaa bidsOdysseus farewell. Odysseus recounts to Alcinous, and Arete, the Queen, thoseadventures in the two years between the fall of Troy and his captivity in theisland of Calypso, which we have already described (pp. xiii-xvii).

DAY 35 (Book xiii).

Odysseus is conveyed to Ithaca, in the evening, on one of the magical barquesof the Phaeacians.

DAY 36 (Books xiii, xiv, xv).

He wakens in Ithaca, which he does not at first recognise He learns fromAthene, for the first time, that the wooers beset his house. She disguises himas an old man, and bids him go to the hut of the swineherd Eumaeus, who isloyal to his absent lord. Athene then goes to Lacedaemon, to bring backTelemachus, who has now resided there for a month. Odysseus won the heart ofEumaeus, who of course did not recognise him, and slept in theswineherd’s hut, while Athene was waking Telemachus, in Lacedaemon, andbidding him “be mindful of his return.”

DAY 37 (Book xv).

Is spent by Odysseus in the swineherd’s hut. Telemachus reachesPherae, half-way to Pylos.

DAY 38 (Book xv).

Telemachus reaches Pylos, but does not visit Nestor. To save time he goes atonce on board ship, taking with him an unfortunate outlaw, Theoclymenus, asecond-sighted man, or the family of Melampus, in which the gift of prophecywas hereditary. The ship passed the Elian coast at night, and evaded the ambushof the wooers. Meanwhile Odysseus was sitting up almost till dawn, listening tothe history of Eumaeus, the swineherd.

DAY 39 (Books xv, xvi).

Telemachus reaches the Isle of Ithaca, sends his ship to the city, but himself,by advice of Athene, makes for the hut of Eumaeus, where he meets, butnaturally does not recognise, his disguised father. He sends Eumaeus toPenelope with news of his arrival, and then Athene reveals Odysseus toTelemachus. The two plot the death of the wooers. Odysseus bids Telemachusremove, on a favourable opportunity, the arms which were disposed as trophieson the walls of the hall at home. (There is a slight discrepancy between thewords of this advice and the manner in which it is afterwards executed.) Duringthis interview, the ship of Telemachus, the wooers who had been in ambush, andEumaeus, all reached the town of Ithaca. In the evening Eumaeus returned to hishut, where Athene had again disguised Odysseus.

DAY 40 (Books xvii, xviii, xix, xx).

The story is now hastening to its close, and many events are crowded into thefortieth day. Telemachus goes from the swineherd’s hut to the city, andcalls his guest, Theoclymenus, to the palace. The second-sighted man prophesiesof the near revenge of Odysseus. In the afternoon, Odysseus (still disguised)and Eumaeus reach the city, the dog Argos recognises the hero, and dies.Odysseus goes begging through his own hall, and is struck by Antinous, theproudest of the wooers. Late in the day Eumaeus goes home, and Odysseus fightswith the braggart beggar Irus. Still later, Penelope appears among the wooers,and receives presents from them. When the wooers have withdrawn, Odysseus andTelemachus remove the weapons from the hall to the armoury. Afterwards Odysseushas an interview with Penelope (who does not recognise him), but he isrecognised by his old nurse Eurycleia. Penelope mentions her purpose to wed theman who on the following day, the feast of the Archer-god Apollo, shall drawthe bow of Odysseus, and send an arrow through the holes in twelve axe-blades,set up in a row. Thus the poet shows that Odysseus has arrived in Ithaca not aday too soon. Odysseus is comforted by a vision of Athene, and

DAY 41 (Books xx, xxi, xxii, xxiii).

by the ominous prayer uttered by a weary woman grinding at the mill. Theswineherd and the disloyal Melanthius arrive at the palace. The wooers deferthe plot to kill Telemachus, as the day is holy to Apollo. Odysseus is led upfrom his seat near the door to a place beside Telemachus at the chief’stable. The wooers mock Telemachus, and the second-sighted Theoclymenus sees theominous shroud of death covering their bodies, and the walls dripping withblood. He leaves the doomed company. In the trial of the bow, none of thewooers can draw it; meanwhile Odysseus has declared himself to the neatherd andthe swineherd. The former bars and fastens the outer gates of the court, thelatter bids Eurycleia bar the doors of the womens’ chambers which leadout of the hall. Odysseus now gets the bow into his hands, strings it, sendsthe arrow through the axe-blades, and then leaping on the threshold of stone,deals his shafts among the wooers. Telemachus, the neatherd, and Eumaeus,aiding him, he slaughters all the crew, despite the treachery of Melanthius.The paramours of the wooers are hanged, and Odysseus, after some delay, isrecognised by Penelope.

DAY 42 (Books xxiii, xxiv).

This day is occupied with the recognition of Odysseus by his aged fatherLaertes, and with the futile attempt of the kinsfolk of the wooers to avengethem on Odysseus. Athene reconciles the feud, and the toils of Odysseus areaccomplished.

The reader has now before him a chronologically arranged sketch of the actionof the Odyssey. It is, perhaps, apparent, even from this bare outline,that the composition is elaborate and artistic, that the threads of the plotare skilfully separated and combined. The germ of the whole epic is probablythe popular tale, known all over the world, of the warrior who, on his returnfrom a long expedition, has great difficulty in making his prudent wiferecognise him. The incident occurs as a detached story in China, and in mostEuropean countries it is told of a crusader. “We may suppose it to beolder than the legend of Troy, and to have gravitated into the cycle of thatlegend. The years of the hero’s absence are then filled up withadventures (the Cyclops, Circé, the Phaeacians, the Sirens, the descent intohell) which exist as scattered tales, or are woven into the more elaborateepics of Gaels, Aztecs, Hindoos, Tartars, South-Sea Islanders, Finns, Russians,Scandinavians, and Eskimo. The whole is surrounded with the atmosphere of thekingly age of Greece, and the result is the Odyssey, with that unity of plotand variety of character which must have been given by one masterlyconstructive genius. The date at which the poet of the Odyssey lived may beapproximately determined by his consistent descriptions of a peculiar anddefinite condition of society, which had ceased to exist in the ninth centuryB.C., and of a stage of art in which Phoenician and Assyrian influencespredominated. (Die Kunst bei Homer.Brunn.) As to the mode ofcomposition, it would not be difficult to show that at least the aprioriWolfian arguments against the early use of writing for literarypurposes have no longer the cogency which they were once thought to possess.But this is matter for a separate investigation.

The Odyssey

BOOK I.

In a Council of the Gods, Poseidon absent, Pallas procureth an order for therestitution of Odysseus; and appearing to his son Telemachus, in human shape,adviseth him to complain of the Wooers before the Council of the people, andthen go to Pylos and Sparta to inquire about his father.

Tell me, Muse, of that man, so ready at need, who wandered far and wide, afterhe had sacked the sacred citadel of Troy, and many were the men whose towns hesaw and whose mind he learnt, yea, and many the woes he suffered in his heartupon the deep, striving to win his own life and the return of his company. Nay,but even so he saved not his company, though he desired it sore. For throughthe blindness of their own hearts they perished, fools, who devoured the oxenof Helios Hyperion: but the god took from them their day of returning. Of thesethings, goddess, daughter of Zeus, whencesoever thou hast heard thereof,declare thou even unto us.

Now all the rest, as many as fled from sheer destruction, were at home, and hadescaped both war and sea, but Odysseus only, craving for his wife and for hishomeward path, the lady nymph Calypso held, that fair goddess, in her hollowcaves, longing to have him for her lord. But when now the year had come in thecourses of the seasons, wherein the gods had ordained that he should returnhome to Ithaca, not even there was he quit of labours, not even among his own;but all the gods had pity on him save Poseidon, who raged continually againstgodlike Odysseus, till he came to his own country. Howbeit Poseidon had nowdeparted for the distant Ethiopians, the Ethiopians that are sundered in twain,the uttermost of men, abiding some where Hyperion sinks and some where herises. There he looked to receive his hecatomb of bulls and rams, there he mademerry sitting at the feast, but the other gods were gathered in the halls ofOlympian Zeus. Then among them the father of gods and men began to speak, forhe bethought him in his heart of noble Aegisthus, whom the son of Agamemnon,far-famed Orestes, slew. Thinking upon him he spake out among the Immortals:

“Lo you now, how vainly mortal men do blame the gods! For of us they saycomes evil, whereas they even of themselves, through the blindness of their ownhearts, have sorrows beyond that which is ordained. Even as of late Aegisthus,beyond that which was ordained, took to him the wedded wife of the son ofAtreus, and killed her lord on his return, and that with sheer doom before hiseyes, since we had warned him by the embassy of Hermes the keen-sighted, theslayer of Argos, that he should neither kill the man, nor woo his wife. For theson of Atreus shall be avenged at the hand of Orestes, so soon as he shall cometo man’s estate and long for his own country. So spake Hermes, yet heprevailed not on the heart of Aegisthus, for all his good will; but now hath hepaid one price for all.”

And the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him, saying: “O father, ourfather Cronides, throned in the highest; that man assuredly lies in a deaththat is his due; so perish likewise all who work such deeds! But my heart isrent for wise Odysseus, that hapless one, who far from his friends this longwhile suffereth affliction in a seagirt isle, where is the navel of the sea, awoodland isle, and therein a goddess hath her habitation, the daughter of thewizard Atlas, who knows the depths of every sea, and himself upholds the tallpillars which keep earth and sky asunder. His daughter it is that holds thehapless man in sorrow: and ever with soft and guileful tales she is wooing himto forgetfulness of Ithaca. But Odysseus yearning to see if it were but thesmoke leap upwards from his own land, hath a desire to die. As for thee, thineheart regardeth it not at all, Olympian! What! did not Odysseus by the ships ofthe Argives make thee free offering of sacrifice in the wide Trojan land?Wherefore wast thou then so wroth with him, O Zeus?”

And Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered her, and said, “My child, what wordhath escaped the door of thy lips? Yea, how should I forget divine Odysseus,who in understanding is beyond mortals and beyond all men hath done sacrificeto the deathless gods, who keep the wide heaven? Nay, but it is Poseidon, thegirdler of the earth, that hath been wroth continually with quenchless angerfor the Cyclops’ sake whom he blinded of his eye, even godlike Polyphemuswhose power is mightiest amongst all the Cyclôpes. His mother was the nymphThoösa, daughter of Phorcys, lord of the unharvested sea, and in the hollowcaves she lay with Poseidon. From that day forth Poseidon the earth-shaker dothnot indeed slay Odysseus, but driveth him wandering from his own country. Butcome, let us here one and all take good counsel as touching his returning, thathe may be got home; so shall Poseidon let go his displeasure, for he will in nowise be able to strive alone against all, in despite of all the deathlessgods.”

Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him, and said: “O father,our father Cronides, throned in the highest, if indeed this thing is now wellpleasing to the blessed gods, that wise Odysseus should return to his own home,let us then speed Hermes the Messenger, the slayer of Argos, to the island ofOgygia. There with all speed let him declare to the lady of the braided tressesour unerring counsel, even the return of the patient Odysseus, that so he maycome to his home. But as for me I will go to Ithaca that I may rouse his sonyet the more, planting might in his heart, to call an assembly of thelong-haired Achaeans and speak out to all the wooers who slaughter continuallythe sheep of his thronging flocks, and his kine with trailing feet andshambling gait. And I will guide him to Sparta and to sandy Pylos to seektidings of his dear father’s return, if peradventure he may hear thereofand that so he may be had in good report among men.”

She spake and bound beneath her feet her lovely golden sandals that wax notold, and bare her alike over the wet sea and over the limitless land, swift asthe breath of the wind. And she seized her doughty spear, shod with sharpbronze, weighty and huge and strong, wherewith she quells the ranks of heroeswith whomsoever she is wroth, the daughter of the mighty sire. Then from theheights of Olympus she came glancing down, and she stood in the land of Ithaca,at the entry of the gate of Odysseus, on the threshold of the courtyard,holding in her hand the spear of bronze, in the semblance of a stranger, Mentesthe captain of the Taphians. And there she found the lordly wooers: now theywere taking their pleasure at draughts in front of the doors, sitting on hidesof oxen, which themselves had slain. And of the henchmen and the ready squires,some were mixing for them wine and water in bowls, and some again were washingthe tables with porous sponges and were setting them forth, and others werecarving flesh in plenty.

And godlike Telemachus was far the first to descry her, for he was sitting witha heavy heart among the wooers dreaming on his good father, if haply he mightcome somewhence, and make a scattering of the wooers there throughout thepalace, and himself get honour and bear rule among his own possessions.Thinking thereupon, as he sat among wooers, he saw Athene—and he wentstraight to the outer porch, for he thought it blame in his heart that astranger should stand long at the gates: and halting nigh her he clasped herright hand and took from her the spear of bronze, and uttered his voice andspake unto her winged words:

“Hail, stranger, with us thou shalt be kindly entreated, and thereafter,when thou hast tasted meat, thou shalt tell us that whereof thou hastneed.”

Therewith he led the way, and Pallas Athene followed. And when they were nowwithin the lofty house, he set her spear that he bore against a tall pillar,within the polished spear-stand, where stood many spears besides, even those ofOdysseus of the hardy heart; and he led the goddess and seated her on a goodlycarven chair, and spread a linen cloth thereunder, and beneath was a footstoolfor the feet. For himself he placed an inlaid seat hard by, apart from thecompany of the wooers, lest the stranger should be disquieted by the noise andshould have a loathing for the meal, being come among overweening men, and alsothat he might ask him about his father that was gone from his home.

Then a handmaid bare water for the washing of hands in a goodly golden ewer,and poured it forth over a silver basin to wash withal, and drew to their sidea polished table. And a grave dame bare wheaten bread and set it by them, andlaid on the board many dainties, giving freely of such things as she had byher. And a carver lifted and placed by them platters of divers kinds of flesh,and nigh them he set golden bowls, and a henchman walked to and fro pouring outto them the wine.

Then in came the lordly wooers; and they sat them down in rows on chairs, andon high seats, and henchmen poured water on their hands, and maidservants piledwheaten bread by them in baskets, and pages crowned the bowls with drink; andthey stretched forth their hands upon the good cheer spread before them. Nowwhen the wooers had put from them the desire of meat and drink, they mindedthem of other things, even of the song and dance: for these are the crown ofthe feast. And a henchman placed a beauteous lyre in the hands of Phemius, whowas minstrel to the wooers despite his will. Yea and as he touched the lyre helifted up his voice in sweet songs.[1]

[1] Or,according to the ordinary interpretation ofἀνεβάλλετο: So he touchedthe chords in prelude to his sweet singing.

But Telemachus spake unto grey-eyed Athene, holding his head close to her thatthose others might not hear: “Dear stranger, wilt thou of a truth bewroth at the word that I shall say? Yonder men verily care for such things asthese, the lyre and song, lightly, as they that devour the livelihood ofanother without atonement, of that man whose white bones, it may be, liewasting in the rain upon the mainland, or the billow rolls them in the brine.Were but these men to see him returned to Ithaca, they all would pray ratherfor greater speed of foot than for gain of gold and raiment. But now he hathperished, even so, an evil doom, and for us is no comfort, no, not though anyof earthly men should say that he will come again. Gone is the day of hisreturning! But come declare me this, and tell me all plainly: Who art thou ofthe sons of men, and whence? Where is thy city, where are they that begat thee?Say, on what manner of ship didst thou come, and how did sailors bring thee toIthaca, and who did they avow themselves to be, for in nowise do I deem thatthou camest hither by land. And herein tell me true, that I may know for asurety whether thou art a newcomer, or whether thou art a guest of the house,seeing that many were the strangers that came to our home, for that hetoo had voyaged much among men.”

Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him: “Yea now, Iwill plainly tell thee all. I avow me to be Mentes, son of wiseAnchialus, and I bear rule among the Taphians, lovers of the oar. Andnow am I come to shore, as thou seest, with ship and crew, sailing overthe wine-dark sea, unto men of strange speech, even to Temesa,[2] inquest of copper, and my cargo is shining iron. And there my ship islying toward the upland, away from the city, in the harbour ofRheithron beneath wooded Neïon: and we declare ourselves to be friendsone of the other, and of houses friendly, from of old. Nay, if thouwouldest be assured, go ask the old man, the hero Laertes, who they sayno more comes to the city, but far away toward the upland suffersaffliction, with an ancient woman for his handmaid, who sets by himmeat and drink, whensoever weariness takes hold of his limbs, as hecreeps along the knoll of his vineyard plot. And now am I come; forverily they said that he, thy father, was among his people; butlo, the gods withhold him from his way. For goodly Odysseus hath notyet perished on the earth; but still, methinks, he lives and is kept onthe wide deep in a seagirt isle, and hard men constrain him, wild folkthat hold him, it may be, sore against his will. But now of a truthwill I utter my word of prophecy, as the Immortals bring it into myheart and as I deem it will be accomplished, though no soothsayer am I,nor skilled in the signs of birds. Henceforth indeed for no long whileshall he be far from his own dear country, not though bonds of ironbind him; he will advise him of a way to return, for he is a man ofmany devices. But come, declare me this, and tell me all plainly,whether indeed, so tall as thou art, thou art sprung from the loins ofOdysseus. Thy head surely and they beauteous eyes are wondrous like tohis, since full many a time have we held converse together ere heembarked for Troy, whither the others, aye the bravest of the Argives,went in hollow ships. From that day forth neither have I seen Odysseus,nor he me.”

[2]Tamasia, in the mountainous centre of Cyprus.

Then wise Telemachus answered her, and said: “Yea, sir, now will Iplainly tell thee all. My mother verily saith that I am his; for myself I knownot, for never man yet knew of himself his own descent. O that I had been theson of some blessed man, whom old age overtook among his own possessions! Butnow of him that is the most hapless of mortal men, his son they say that I am,since thou dost question me hereof.”

Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake unto him, and said: “Surely nonameless lineage have the gods ordained for thee in days to come, sincePenelope bore thee so goodly a man. But come, declare me this, and tell it allplainly. What feast, nay, what rout is this? What hast thou to do therewith? Isit a clan drinking, or a wedding feast, for here we have no banquet where eachman brings his share? In such wise, flown with insolence, do they seem to me torevel wantonly through the house: and well might any man be wroth to see somany deeds of shame, whatso wise man came among them.”

Then wise Telemachus answered her, and said: “Sir, forasmuch as thouquestionest me of these things and inquirest thereof, our house was once liketo have been rich and honourable, while yet that man was among his people. Butnow the gods willed it otherwise, in evil purpose, who have made him passutterly out of sight as no man ever before. Truly I would not even for hisdeath make so great sorrow, had he fallen among his fellows in the land of theTrojans, or in the arms of his friends when he had wound up the clew of war.Then would the whole Achaean host have builded him a barrow, and even for hisson would he have won great glory in the after days. But now the spirits of thestorm have swept him away inglorious. He is gone, lost to sight and hearsay,but for me hath he left anguish and lamentation; nor henceforth is it for himalone that I mourn and weep, since the gods have wrought for me other soredistress. For all the noblest that are princes in the isles, in Dulichium andSame and wooded Zacynthus, and as many as lord it in rocky Ithaca, all thesewoo my mother and waste my house. But as for her she neither refuseth the hatedbridal, nor hath the heart to make an end: so they devour and minish my house,and ere long will they make havoc likewise of myself.”

Then in heavy displeasure spake unto him Pallas Athene: “God help thee!thou art surely sore in need of Odysseus that is afar, to stretch forth hishands upon the shameless wooers. If he could but come now and stand at theentering in of the gate, with helmet and shield and lances twain, as mighty aman as when first I marked him in our house drinking and making merry what timehe came up out of Ephyra from Ilus son of Mermerus! For even thither hadOdysseus gone on his swift ship to seek a deadly drug, that he might havewherewithal to smear his bronze-shod arrows: but Ilus would in nowise give itto him, for he had in awe the everliving gods. But my father gave it him, forhe bare him wondrous love. O that Odysseus might in such strength consort withthe wooers: so should they all have swift fate and bitter wedlock! Howbeitthese things surely lie on the knees of the gods, whether he shall return ornot, and take vengeance in his halls. But I charge thee to take counsel howthou mayest thrust forth the wooers from the hall. Come now, mark and take heedunto my words. On the morrow call the Achaean lords to the assembly, anddeclare thy saying to all, and take the gods to witness. As for the wooers bidthem scatter them each one to his own, and for thy mother, if her heart ismoved to marriage, let her go back to the hall of that mighty man her father,and her kinsfolk will furnish a wedding feast, and array the gifts of wooingexceeding many, all that should go back with a daughter dearly beloved. And tothyself I will give a word of wise counsel, if perchance thou wilt hearken. Fitout a ship, the best thou hast, with twenty oarsmen, and go to inquireconcerning thy father that is long afar, if perchance any man shall tell theeaught, or if thou mayest hear the voice from Zeus, which chiefly brings tidingsto men. Get thee first to Pylos and inquire of goodly Nestor, and from thenceto Sparta to Menelaus of the fair hair, for he came home the last of themail-coated Achaeans. If thou shalt hear news of the life and the returning ofthy father, then verily thou mayest endure the wasting for yet a year. But ifthou shalt hear that he is dead and gone, return then to thine own dear countryand pile his mound, and over it pay burial rites, full many as is due, and givethy mother to a husband. But when thou hast done this and made an end,thereafter take counsel in thy mind and heart, how thou mayest slay the wooersin thy halls, whether by guile or openly; for thou shouldest not carry childishthoughts, being no longer of years thereto. Or hast thou not heard what renownthe goodly Orestes gat him among all men in that he slew the slayer of hisfather, guileful Aegisthus, who killed his famous sire? And thou, too, myfriend, for I see that thou art very comely and tall, be valiant, that even menunborn may praise thee. But I will now go down to the swift ship and to my men,who methinks chafe much at tarrying for me; and do thou thyself take heed andgive ear unto my words.”

Then wise Telemachus answered her, saying: “Sir, verily thou speakestthese things out of a friendly heart, as a father to his son, and never will Iforget them. But now I pray thee abide here, though eager to be gone, to theend that after thou hast bathed and had all thy heart’s desire, thoumayest wend to the ship joyful in spirit, with a costly gift and very goodly,to be an heirloom of my giving, such as dear friends give to friends.”

Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him: “Hold me now no longer,that am eager for the way. But whatsoever gift thine heart shall bid thee giveme, when I am on my way back let it be mine to carry home: bear from thy storesa gift right goodly, and it shall bring thee the worth thereof inreturn.”

So spake she and departed, the grey-eyed Athene, and like an eagle of the seashe flew away, but in his spirit she planted might and courage, and put him inmind of his father yet more than heretofore. And he marked the thing and wasamazed, for he deemed that it was a god; and anon he went among the wooers, agodlike man.

Now the renowned minstrel was singing to the wooers, and they sat listening insilence; and his song was of the pitiful return of the Achaeans, that PallasAthene laid on them as they came forth from Troy. And from her upper chamberthe daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, caught the glorious strain, and shewent down the high stairs from her chamber, not alone, for two of her handmaidsbare her company. Now when the fair lady had come unto the wooers, she stood bythe pillar of the well-builded roof holding up her glistening tire before herface; and a faithful maiden stood on either side her. Then she fell a weeping,and spake unto the divine minstrel:

“Phemius, since thou knowest many other charms for mortals, deeds of menand gods, which bards rehearse, some one of these do thou sing as thou sittestby them, and let them drink their wine in silence; but cease from this pitifulstrain, that ever wastes my heart within my breast, since to me above all womenhath come a sorrow comfortless. So dear a head do I long for in constantmemory, namely, that man whose fame is noised abroad from Hellas to midArgos.”

Then wise Telemachus answered her, and said: “O my mother, why then dostthou grudge the sweet minstrel to gladden us as his spirit moves him? It is notminstrels who are in fault, but Zeus, methinks, is in fault, who gives to men,that live by bread, to each one as he will. As for him it is no blame if hesings the ill-faring of the Danaans; for men always prize that song the most,which rings newest in their ears. But let thy heart and mind endure to listen,for not Odysseus only lost in Troy the day of his returning, but many anotherlikewise perished. Howbeit go to thy chamber and mind thine own housewiferies,the loom and distaff, and bid thy handmaids ply their tasks. But speech shallbe for men, for all, but for me in chief; for mine is the lordship in thehouse.”

Then in amaze she went back to her chamber, for she laid up the wise saying ofher son in her heart. She ascended to her upper chamber with the women herhandmaids, and then was bewailing Odysseus, her dear lord, till grey-eyedAthene cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.

Now the wooers clamoured throughout the shadowy halls, and each one uttered aprayer to be her bedfellow. And wise Telemachus first spake among them:

“Wooers of my mother, men despiteful out of measure, let us feast now andmake merry and let there be no brawling; for, lo, it is a good thing to list toa minstrel such as him, like to the gods in voice. But in the morning let usall go to the assembly and sit us down, that I may declare my saying outright,to wit that ye leave these halls: and busy yourselves with other feasts, eatingyour own substance, going in turn from house to house. But if ye deem this alikelier and a better thing, that one man’s goods should perish withoutatonement, then waste ye as ye will; and I will call upon the everlasting gods,if haply Zeus may grant that acts of recompense be made: so should ye hereafterperish within the halls without atonement.”

So spake he, and all that heard him bit their lips and marvelled at Telemachus,in that he spake boldly.

Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him: “Telemachus, in very truththe gods themselves instruct thee to be proud of speech and boldly to harangue.Never may Cronion make thee king in seagirt Ithaca, which thing is ofinheritance thy right!”

Then wise Telemachus answered him, and said: “Antinous, wilt thou indeedbe wroth at the word that I shall say? Yea, at the hand of Zeus would I be fainto take even this thing upon me. Sayest thou that this is the worst hap thatcan befal a man? Nay, verily, it is no ill thing to be a king: the house ofsuch an one quickly waxeth rich and himself is held in greater honour.Howsoever there are many other kings of the Achaeans in seagirt Ithaca, kingsyoung and old; someone of them shall surely have this kingship since goodlyOdysseus is dead. But as for me, I will be lord of our own house and thralls,that goodly Odysseus gat me with his spear.”

Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered him, saying: “Telemachus, on theknees of the gods it surely lies, what man is to be king over the Achaeans inseagirt Ithaca. But mayest thou keep thine own possessions and be lord in thineown house! Never may that man come, who shall wrest from thee thy substanceviolently in thine own despite while Ithaca yet stands. But I would ask thee,friend, concerning the stranger—whence he is, and of what land he avows him tobe? Where are his kin and his native fields? Doth he bear some tidings of thyfather on his road, or cometh he thus to speed some matter of his own? In suchwise did he start up, and lo, he was gone, nor tarried he that we should knowhim;—and yet he seemed no mean man to look upon.”[3]

[3] Theγὰρ explains the expression of surprise at the sudden departureof the stranger.

Then wise Telemachus answered him, and said: “Eurymachus, surely the dayof my father’s returning hath gone by. Therefore no more do I put faithin tidings, whencesoever they may come, neither have I regard unto anydivination, whereof my mother may inquire at the lips of a diviner, when shehath bidden him to the hall. But as for that man, he is a friend of my housefrom Taphos, and he avows him to be Mentes, son of wise Anchialus, and he hathlordship among the Taphians, lovers of the oar.”

So spake Telemachus, but in his heart he knew the deathless goddess. Now thewooers turned them to the dance and the delightsome song, and made merry, andwaited till evening should come on. And as they made merry, dusk evening cameupon them. Then they went each one to his own house to lie down to rest.

But Telemachus, where his chamber was builded high up in the fair court, in aplace with wide prospect, thither betook him to his bed, pondering manythoughts in his mind; and with him went trusty Eurycleia, and bare for himtorches burning. She was the daughter of Ops, son of Peisenor, and Laertesbought her on a time with his wealth, while as yet she was in her first youth,and gave for her the worth of twenty oxen. And he honoured her even as hehonoured his dear wife in the halls, but he never lay with her, for he shunnedthe wrath of his lady. She went with Telemachus and bare for him the burningtorches: and of all the women of the household she loved him most, and she hadnursed him when a little one. Then he opened the doors of the well-buildedchamber and sat him on the bed and took off his soft doublet, and put it in thewise old woman’s hands. So she folded the doublet and smoothed it, andhung it on a pin by the jointed bedstead, and went forth on her way from theroom, and pulled to the door with the silver handle, and drew home the bar withthe thong. There, all night through, wrapped in a fleece of wool, he meditatedin his heart upon the journey that Athene had showed him.

BOOK II.

Telemachus complains in vain, and borrowing a ship, goes secretly to Pylos bynight. And how he was there received.

Now so soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, the dear son ofOdysseus gat him up from his bed, and put on his raiment and cast his sharpsword about his shoulder, and beneath his smooth feet he bound his goodlysandals, and stept forth from his chamber in presence like a god. Andstraightway he bade the clear-voiced heralds to call the long-haired Achaeansto the assembly. And the heralds called the gathering, and the Achaeans wereassembled quickly. Now when they were gathered and come together, he went onhis way to the assembly holding in his hand a spear of bronze,—not alonehe went, for two swift hounds bare him company. Then Athene shed on him awondrous grace, and all the people marvelled at him as he came. And he sat himin his father’s seat and the elders gave place to him.

Then the lord Aegyptus spake among them first; bowed was he with age, andskilled in things past number. Now for this reason he spake that his dear son,the warrior Antiphus, had gone in the hollow ships to Ilios of the goodlysteeds; but the savage Cyclops slew him in his hollow cave, and made of himthen his latest meal. Three other sons Aegyptus had, and one consorted with thewooers, namely Eurynomus, but two continued in their father’s fields; yeteven so forgat he not that son, still mourning and sorrowing. So weeping forhis sake he made harangue and spake among them:

“Hearken now to me, ye men of Ithaca, to the word that I shall say. Neverhath our assembly or session been since the day that goodly Odysseus departedin the hollow ships. And now who was minded thus to assemble us? On what manhath such sore need come, of the young men or of the elder born? Hath he heardsome tidings of the host now returning, which he might plainly declare to us,for that he first learned thereof, or doth he show forth and tell some othermatter of the common weal? Methinks he is a true man—good luck be withhim! Zeus vouchsafe him some good thing in his turn, even all his heart’sdesire!”

So spake he, and the dear son of Odysseus was glad at the omen of the word; norsat he now much longer, but he burned to speak, and he stood in mid assembly;and the herald Peisenor, skilled in sage counsels, placed the staff in hishands. Then he spake, accosting the old man first:

“Old man, he is not far off, and soon shalt thou know it for thyself, hewho called the folk together, even I: for sorrow hath come to me in chief.Neither have I heard any tidings of the host now returning, which I may plainlydeclare to you, for that I first learned thereof; neither do I show forth ortell any other matter of the common weal, but mine own need, for that evil hathbefallen my house, a double woe. First, I have lost my noble sire, who sometimewas king among you here, and was gentle as a father; and now is there an evilyet greater far, which surely shall soon make grievous havoc of my whole houseand ruin all my livelihood. My mother did certain wooers beset sore against herwill, even the sons of those men that here are the noblest. They are too cravento go to the house of her father Icarius, that he may himself set thebride-price for his daughter, and bestow her on whom he will, even on him whofinds favour in his sight. But they resorting to our house day by day sacrificeoxen and sheep and fat goats, and keep revel, and drink the dark winerecklessly, and lo, our great wealth is wasted, for there is no man now alivesuch as Odysseus was, to keep ruin from the house. As for me I am nowise stronglike him to ward mine own; verily to the end of my days[4] shall I be a weakling and allunskilled in prowess. Truly I would defend me if but strength were mine; fordeeds past sufferance have now been wrought, and now my house is wasted utterlybeyond pretence of right. Resent it in your own hearts, and have regard to yourneighbours who dwell around, and tremble ye at the anger of the gods, lesthaply they turn upon you in wrath at your evil deeds.[5] I pray you by Olympian Zeusand by Themis, who looseth and gathereth the meetings of men, let be, myfriends, and leave me alone to waste in bitter grief;—unless it so bethat my father, the good Odysseus, out of evil heart wrought harm to thegoodly-greaved Achaeans, in quittance whereof ye now work me harm out of evilhearts, and spur on these men. Better for me that ye yourselves should eat upmy treasures and my flocks. Were yeso to devour them, ere long wouldsome recompense be made, for we would urge our plea throughout the town,begging back our substance, until all should be restored. But now withoutremedy are the pains that ye lay up in my heart.”

[4] Cf.B. xxi. 131. For the use of the 1st pers. pl. like our royalplural, cf.B. xvi. 44, Il. vii. 190.

[5] Or,lest they bring your evil deeds in wrath on your own heads.

So spake he in wrath, and dashed the staff to the ground, and brake forth intears; and pity fell on all the people. Then all the others held their peace,and none had the heart to answer Telemachus with hard words, but Antinous alonemade answer, saying:

“Telemachus, proud of speech and unrestrained in fury, what is this thouhast said to put us to shame, and wouldest fasten on us reproach? Behold thefault is not in the Achaean wooers, but in thine own mother, for she is thecraftiest of women. For it is now the third year, and the fourth is fast goingby, since she began to deceive the minds of the Achaeans in their breasts. Shegives hope to all, and makes promises to every man, and sends them messages,but her mind is set on other things. And she hath devised in her heart thiswile besides; she set up in her halls a mighty web, fine of woof and very wide,whereat she would weave, and anon she spake among us:

“‘Ye princely youths, my wooers, now that the goodly Odysseus isdead, do ye abide patiently, how eager soever to speed on this marriage ofmine, till I finish the robe. I would not that the threads perish to no avail,even this shroud for the hero Laertes, against the day when the ruinous doomshall bring him low, of death that lays men at their length. So shall none ofthe Achaean women in the land count it blame in me, as well might be, were heto lie without a winding-sheet, a man that had gotten great possessions.’

“So spake she, and our high hearts consented thereto. So then in the daytime she would weave the mighty web, and in the night unravel the same, whenshe had let place the torches by her. Thus for the space of three years she hidthe thing by craft and beguiled the minds of the Achaeans; but when the fourthyear arrived and the seasons came round, then at the last one of her women whoknew all declared it, and we found her unravelling the splendid web. Thus shefinished it perforce and sore against her will. But as for thee, the wooersmake thee answer thus, that thou mayest know it in thine own heart, thou andall the Achaeans! Send away thy mother, and bid her be married to whomsoeverher father commands, and whoso is well pleasing unto her. But if she willcontinue for long to vex the sons of the Achaeans, pondering in her heart thosethings that Athene hath given her beyond women, knowledge of all fairhandiwork, yea, and cunning wit, and wiles—so be it! Such wiles as herswe have never yet heard that any even of the women of old did know, of thosethat aforetime were fair-tressed Achaean ladies, Tyro, and Alcmene, and Mycenewith the bright crown. Not one of these in the imaginations of their hearts waslike unto Penelope, yet herein at least her imagining was not good. For indespite of her the wooers will devour thy living and thy substance, so long asshe is steadfast in such purpose as the gods now put within her breast: greatrenown for herself she winneth, but for thee regret for thy much livelihood.But we will neither go to our own lands, nor otherwhere, till she marry thatman whom she will of the Achaeans.”

Then wise Telemachus answered him, saying: “Antinous, I may in no wisethrust forth from the house, against her will, the woman that bare me, thatreared me: while as for my father he is abroad on the earth, whether he bealive or dead. Moreover it is hard for me to make heavy restitution to Icarius,as needs I must, if of mine own will I send my mother away. For I shall haveevil at his hand, at the hand of her father, and some god will give me morebesides, for my mother will call down the dire Avengers as she departs from thehouse, and I shall have blame of men; surely then I will never speak this word.Nay, if your own heart, even yours, is indignant, quit ye my halls, and busyyourselves with other feasts, eating your own substance, and going in turn fromhouse to house. But if ye deem this a likelier and a better thing, that oneman’s goods should perish without atonement, then waste ye as ye will:and I will call upon the everlasting gods, if haply Zeus may grant that acts ofrecompense be made: so should ye hereafter perish in the halls withoutatonement.”

So spake Telemachus, and in answer to his prayer did Zeus, of the far bornevoice, send forth two eagles in flight, from on high, from the mountain-crest.Awhile they flew as fleet as the blasts of the wind, side by side, withstraining of their pinions. But when they had now reached the mid assembly, theplace of many voices, there they wheeled about and flapped their strong wings,and looked down upon the heads of all, and destruction was in their gaze. Thentore they with their talons each the other’s cheeks and neck on everyside, and so sped to the right across the dwellings and the city of the people.And the men marvelled at the birds when they had sight of them, and pondered intheir hearts the things that should come to pass. Yea and the old man, the lordHalitherses son of Mastor spake among them, for he excelled his peers inknowledge of birds, and in uttering words of fate. With good will he madeharangue and spake among them:

“Hearken to me now, ye men of Ithaca, to the word that I shall say: andmainly to the wooers do I show forth and tell these things, seeing that amighty woe is rolling upon them. For Odysseus shall not long be away from hisfriends, nay, even now, it may be, he is near, and sowing the seeds of deathand fate for these men, every one; and he will be a bane to many anotherlikewise of us who dwell in clear-seen Ithaca. But long ere that falls out letus advise us how we may make an end of their mischief; yea, let them of theirown selves make an end, for this is the better way for them, as will soon beseen. For I prophesy not as one unproved, but with sure knowledge; verily, Isay, that for him all things now are come to pass, even as I told him, whattime the Argives embarked for Ilios, and with them went the wise Odysseus. Isaid that after sore affliction, with the loss of all his company, unknown toall, in the twentieth year he should come home. And behold, all these thingsnow have an end.”

And Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered him, saying: “Go now, old man,get thee home and prophesy to thine own children, lest haply they suffer harmhereafter: but herein am I a far better prophet than thou. Howbeit there bemany birds that fly to and fro under the sun’s rays, but all are notbirds of fate. Now as for Odysseus, he hath perished far away, as would thatthou too with him hadst been cut off: so wouldst thou not have babbled thusmuch prophecy, nor wouldst thou hound on Telemachus that is already angered,expecting a gift for thy house, if perchance he may vouchsafe thee aught. Butnow will I speak out, and my word shall surely be accomplished. If thou thatknowest much lore from of old, shalt beguile with words a younger man, androuse him to indignation, first it shall be a great grief to him:—and yethe can count on no aid from these who hear him;—while upon thee, old man,we will lay a fine, that thou mayest pay it and chafe at heart, and sore painshall be thine. And I myself will give a word of counsel to Telemachus inpresence of you all. Let him command his mother to return to her father’shouse; and her kinsfolk will furnish a wedding feast, and array the gifts ofwooing, exceeding many, all that should go back with a daughter dearly beloved.For ere that, I trow, we sons of the Achaeans will not cease from our roughwooing, since, come what may, we fear not any man, no, not Telemachus, full ofwords though he be, nor soothsaying do we heed, whereof thou, old man, pratestidly, and art hated yet the more. His substance too shall be woefully devoured,nor shall recompense ever be made, so long as she shall put off the Achaeans inthe matter of her marriage; while we in expectation, from day to day, vie onewith another for the prize of her perfection, nor go we after other women whomit were meet that we should each one wed.”

Then wise Telemachus answered him saying: “Eurymachus, and ye others,that are lordly wooers, I entreat you no more concerning this nor speakthereof, for the gods have knowledge of it now and all the Achaeans. But come,give me a swift ship and twenty men, who shall accomplish for me my voyage toand fro. For I will go to Sparta and to sandy Pylos to inquire concerning thereturn of my father that is long afar, if perchance any man shall tell meaught, or if I may hear the voice from Zeus, that chiefly brings tidings tomen. If I shall hear news of the life and the returning of my father, thenverily I may endure the wasting for yet a year; but if I shall hear that he isdead and gone, let me then return to my own dear country, and pile his mound,and over it pay burial rites full many as is due, and I will give my mother toa husband.”

So with that word he sat him down; then in the midst uprose Mentor, thecompanion of noble Odysseus. He it was to whom Odysseus, as he departed in thefleet, had given the charge over all his house, that it should obey the oldman, and that he should keep all things safe. With good will he now madeharangue and spake among them:

“Hearken to me now, ye men of Ithaca, to the word that I shall say.Henceforth let not any sceptred king be kind and gentle with all his heart, norminded to do righteously, but let him alway be a hard man and workunrighteousness: for behold, there is none that remembereth divine Odysseus ofthe people whose lord he was, and was gentle as a father. Howsoever, it is notthat I grudge the lordly wooers their deeds of violence in the evil devices oftheir heart. For at the hazard of their own heads they violently devour thehousehold of Odysseus, and say of him that he will come no more again. But I amindeed wroth with the rest of the people, to see how ye all sit thusspeechless, and do not cry shame upon the wooers, and put them down, ye thatare so many and they so few.”

And Leocritus, son of Euenor, answered him, saying: “Mentor infatuate,with thy wandering wits, what word hast thou spoken, that callest upon them toput us down? Nay, it is a hard thing to fight about a feast, and that with menwho are even more in number than you. Though Odysseus of Ithaca himself shouldcome and were eager of heart to drive forth from the hall the lordly wooersthat feast throughout his house, yet should his wife have no joy of his coming,though she yearns for him;—but even there should he meet foul doom, if hefought with those that outnumbered him; so thou hast not spoken aright. But asfor the people, come now, scatter yourselves each one to his own lands, butMentor and Halitherses will speed this man’s voyage, for they are friendsof his house from of old. Yet after all, methinks, that long time he will abideand seek tidings in Ithaca, and never accomplish this voyage.”

Thus he spake, and in haste they broke up the assembly. So they were scatteredeach one to his own dwelling, while the wooers departed to the house of divineOdysseus.

Then Telemachus, going far apart to the shore of the sea, laved his hands inthe grey sea water, and prayed unto Athene, saying: “Hear me, thou whoyesterday didst come in thy godhead to our house, and badest me go in a shipacross the misty seas, to seek tidings of the return of my father that is longgone: but all this my purpose do the Achaeans delay, and mainly the wooers inthe naughtiness of their pride.”

So spake he in prayer, and Athene drew nigh him in the likeness of Mentor, infashion and in voice, and she spake and hailed him in winged words:

“Telemachus, even hereafter thou shalt not be craven or witless, ifindeed thou hast a drop of thy father’s blood and a portion of hisspirit; such an one was he to fulfil both word and work. Nor, if this be so,shall thy voyage be vain or unfulfilled. But if thou art not the very seed ofhim and of Penelope, then have I no hope that thou wilt accomplish thy desire.For few children, truly, are like their father; lo, the more part are worse,yet a few are better than the sire. But since thou shalt not even hereafter becraven or witless, nor hath the wisdom of Odysseus failed thee quite, so isthere good hope of thine accomplishing this work. Wherefore now take no heed ofthe counsel or the purpose of the senseless wooers, for they are in no way wiseor just: neither know they aught of death and of black fate, which already isclose upon them, that they are all to perish in one day. But the voyage onwhich thy heart is set shall not long be lacking to thee—so faithful afriend of thy father am I, who will furnish thee a swift ship and myself be thycompanion. But go thou to the house, and consort with the wooers, and makeready corn, and bestow all in vessels, the wine in jars and barley-flour, themarrow of men, in well-sewn skins; and I will lightly gather in the township acrew that offer themselves willingly. There are many ships, new and old, inseagirt Ithaca; of these I will choose out the best for thee, and we willquickly rig her and launch her on the broad deep.”

So spake Athene, daughter of Zeus, and Telemachus made no long tarrying, whenhe had heard the voice of the goddess. He went on his way towards the house,heavy at heart, and there he found the noble wooers in the halls, flaying goatsand singeing swine in the court. And Antinous laughed out and went straight toTelemachus, and clasped his hand and spake and hailed him:

“Telemachus, proud of speech and unrestrained in fury, let no evil wordany more be in thy heart, nor evil work, but let me see thee eat and drink asof old. And the Achaeans will make thee ready all things without fail, a shipand chosen oarsmen, that thou mayest come the quicker to fair Pylos, to seektidings of thy noble father.”

Then wise Telemachus answered him, saying, “Antinous, in no wise in yourproud company can I sup in peace, and make merry with a quiet mind. Is it alittle thing, ye wooers, that in time past ye wasted many good things of mygetting, while as yet I was a child? But now that I am a man grown, and learnthe story from the lips of others, and my spirit waxeth within me, I will seekto let loose upon you evil fates, as I may, going either to Pylos for help, orabiding here in this township. Yea, I will go, nor vain shall the voyage bewhereof I speak; a passenger on another’s ship go I, for I am not to havea ship nor oarsmen of mine own; so in your wisdom ye have thought it for thebetter.”

He spake and snatched his hand from out the hand of Antinous, lightly, and allthe while the wooers were busy feasting through the house; and they mocked himand sharply taunted him, and thus would some proud youth speak:

“In very truth Telemachus planneth our destruction. He will bring arescue either from sandy Pylos, or even it may be from Sparta, so terribly ishe set on slaying us. Or else he will go to Ephyra, a fruitful land, to fetch apoisonous drug that he may cast it into the bowl and make an end of all ofus.”

And again another proud youth would say: “Who knows but that he himselfif he goes hence on the hollow ship, may perish wandering far from his friends,even as Odysseus? So should we have yet more ado, for then must we divide amongus all his substance, and moreover give the house to his mother to possess it,and to him whosoever should wed her.”

So spake they; but he stepped down into the vaulted treasure-chamber of hisfather, a spacious room, where gold and bronze lay piled, and raiment incoffers, and fragrant olive oil in plenty. And there stood casks of sweet wineand old, full of the unmixed drink divine, all orderly ranged by the wall,ready if ever Odysseus should come home, albeit after travail and much pain.And the close-fitted doors, the folding doors, were shut, and night and daythere abode within a dame in charge, who guarded all in the fulness of herwisdom, Eurycleia, daughter of Ops son of Peisenor. Telemachus now called herinto the chamber and spake unto her, saying:

“Mother, come draw off for me sweet wine in jars, the choicest next tothat thou keepest mindful ever of that ill-fated one, Odysseus, of the seed ofZeus, if perchance he may come I know not whence, having avoided death and thefates. So fill twelve jars, and close each with his lid, and pour mebarley-meal into well-sewn skins, and let there be twenty measures of the grainof bruised barley-meal. Let none know this but thyself! As for these things letthem all be got together; for in the evening I will take them with me, at thetime that my mother hath gone to her upper chamber and turned her thoughts tosleep. Lo, to Sparta I go and to sandy Pylos to seek tidings of my dearfather’s return, if haply I may hear thereof.”

So spake he, and the good nurse Eurycleia wailed aloud, and making lament spaketo him winged words: “Ah, wherefore, dear child, hath such a thoughtarisen in thine heart? How shouldst thou fare over wide lands, thou that art anonly child and well-beloved? As for him he hath perished, Odysseus of the seedof Zeus, far from his own country in the land of strangers. And yonder men, sosoon as thou art gone, will devise mischief against thee thereafter, that thoumayest perish by guile, and they will share among them all this wealth ofthine. Nay, abide here, settled on thine own lands: thou hast no need upon thedeep unharvested to suffer evil and go wandering.”

Then wise Telemachus answered her, saying: “Take heart, nurse, for lo,this my purpose came not but of a god. But swear to tell no word thereof to mydear mother, till at least it shall be the eleventh or twelfth day from hence,or till she miss me of herself, and hear of my departure, that so she may notmar her fair face with her tears.”

Thus he spake, and the old woman sware a great oath by the gods not to revealit. But when she had sworn and done that oath, straightway she drew off thewine for him in jars, and poured barley-meal into well-sewn skins, andTelemachus departed to the house and consorted with the wooers.

Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, turned to other thoughts. In the likenessof Telemachus she went all through the city, and stood by each one of the menand spake her saying, and bade them gather at even by the swift ship.Furthermore, she craved a swift ship of Noëmon, famous son of Phronius, andright gladly he promised it.

Now the sun sank and all the ways were darkened. Then at length she let dragthe swift ship to the sea and stored within it all such tackling as deckedships carry. And she moored it at the far end of the harbour and the goodcompany was gathered together, and the goddess cheered on all.

Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, turned to other thoughts. She went on herway to the house of divine Odysseus; and there she shed sweet sleep upon thewooers and made them distraught in their drinking, and cast the cups from theirhands. And they arose up to go to rest throughout the city, nor sat they yet along while, for slumber was falling on their eyelids. Now grey-eyed Athenespake unto Telemachus, and called him from out the fair-lying halls, taking thelikeness of Mentor, both in fashion and in voice:

“Telemachus, thy goodly-greaved companions are sitting already at theiroars, it is thy despatch they are awaiting. Nay then, let us go, that we delaythem not long from the way.”

Therewith Pallas Athene led the way quickly, and he followed hard in the stepsof the goddess. Now when they had come down to the ship and to the sea, theyfound the long-haired youths of the company on the shore; and the mighty princeTelemachus spake among them:

“Come hither, friends, let us carry the corn on board, for all is nowtogether in the room, and my mother knows nought thereof, nor any of themaidens of the house: one woman only heard my saying.”

Thus he spake and led the way, and they went with him. So they brought all andstowed it in the decked ship, according to the word of the dear son ofOdysseus. Then Telemachus climbed the ship, and Athene went before him, andbehold, she sat her down in the stern, and near her sat Telemachus. And the menloosed the hawsers and climbed on board themselves and sat down upon thebenches. And grey-eyed Athene sent them a favourable gale, a fresh West Wind,singing over the wine-dark sea.

And Telemachus called unto his company and bade them lay hands on the tackling,and they hearkened to his call. So they raised the mast of pine tree and set itin the hole of the cross plank, and made it fast with forestays, and hauled upthe white sails with twisted ropes of oxhide. And the wind filled the belly ofthe sail, and the dark wave seethed loudly round the stem of the running ship,and she fleeted over the wave, accomplishing her path. Then they made all fastin the swift black ship, and set mixing bowls brimmed with wine, and poureddrink offering to the deathless gods that are from everlasting, and in chief tothe grey-eyed daughter of Zeus. So all night long and through the dawn the shipcleft her way.

BOOK III.

Nestor entertains Telemachus at Pylos and tells him how the Greeks departedfrom Troy; and sends him for further information to Sparta.

Now the sun arose and left the lovely mere, speeding to the brazen heaven, togive light to the immortals and to mortal men on the earth, the graingiver, andthey reached Pylos, the stablished castle of Neleus. There the people weredoing sacrifice on the sea shore, slaying black bulls without spot to thedark-haired god, the shaker of the earth. Nine companies there were, and fivehundred men sat in each, and in every company they held nine bulls ready tohand. Just as they had tasted the inner parts, and were burning the slices ofthe thighs on the altar to the god, the others were bearing straight to land,and brailed up the sails of the gallant ship, and moored her, and themselvescame forth. And Telemachus too stept forth from the ship, and Athene led theway. And the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake first to him, saying:

“Telemachus, thou needst not now be abashed, no, not one whit. For tothis very end didst thou sail over the deep, that thou mightest hear tidings ofthy father, even where the earth closed over him, and what manner of death hemet. But come now, go straight to Nestor, tamer of horses: let us learn whatcounsel he hath in the secret of his heart. And beseech him thyself that he maygive unerring answer; and he will not lie to thee, for he is very wise.”

The wise Telemachus answered, saying: “Mentor, and how shall I go, howshall I greet him, I, who am untried in words of wisdom? Moreover a young manmay well be abashed to question an elder.”

Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake to him again: “Telemachus, thoushalt bethink thee of somewhat in thine own breast, and somewhat the god willgive thee to say. For thou, methinks, of all men wert not born and bred withoutthe will of the gods.”

So spake Pallas Athene and led the way quickly; and he followed hard in thesteps of the goddess. And they came to the gathering and the session of the menof Pylos. There was Nestor seated with his sons, and round him his companymaking ready the feast, and roasting some of the flesh and spitting other. Nowwhen they saw the strangers, they went all together, and clasped their hands inwelcome, and would have them sit down. First Peisistratus, son of Nestor, drewnigh, and took the hands of each, and made them to sit down at the feast onsoft fleeces upon the sea sand, beside his brother Thrasymedes and his father.And he gave them messes of the inner meat, and poured wine into a golden cup,and pledging her, he spake unto Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, lord of theaegis:

“Pray now, my guest, to the lord Poseidon, even as it is his feastwhereon ye have chanced in coming hither. And when thou hast made drinkoffering and prayed, as is due, give thy friend also the cup of honeyed wine tomake offering thereof, inasmuch as he too, methinks, prayeth to the deathlessgods, for all men stand in need of the gods. Howbeit he is younger and mine ownequal in years, therefore to thee first will I give the golden chalice.”

Therewith he placed in her hand the cup of sweet wine. And Athene rejoiced inthe wisdom and judgment of the man, in that he had given to her first thechalice of gold. And straightway she prayed, and that instantly, to the lordPoseidon:

“Hear me, Poseidon, girdler of the earth, and grudge not the fulfilmentof this labour in answer to our prayer. To Nestor first and to his sonsvouchsafe renown, and thereafter grant to all the people of Pylos a graciousrecompense for this splendid hecatomb. Grant moreover that Telemachus and I mayreturn, when we have accomplished that for which we came hither with our swiftblack ship.”

Now as she prayed on this wise, herself the while was fulfilling the prayer.And she gave Telemachus the fair two-handled cup; and in like manner prayed thedear son of Odysseus. Then, when the others had roasted the outer parts anddrawn them off the spits, they divided the messes and shared the gloriousfeast. But when they had put from them the desire of meat and drink, Nestor ofGerenia, lord of chariots, first spake among them:

“Now is the better time to enquire and ask of the strangers who they are,now that they have had their delight of food. Strangers, who are ye? Whencesail ye over the wet ways? On some trading enterprise, or at adventure do yerove, even as sea-robbers, over the brine, for they wander at hazard of theirown lives bringing bale to alien men?”

Then wise Telemachus answered him and spake with courage, for Athene herselfhad put boldness in his heart, that he might ask about his father who was afar,and that he might be had in good report among men:

“Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans, thou askest whencewe are, and I will surely tell thee all. We have come forth out of Ithaca thatis below Neïon; and this our quest whereof I speak is a matter of mine own, andnot of the common weal. I follow after the far-spread rumour of my father, ifhaply I may hear thereof, even of the goodly steadfast Odysseus, who upon atime, men say, fought by thy side and sacked the city of the Trojans. For ofall the others, as many as warred with the Trojans, we hear tidings, and whereeach one fell by a pitiful death; but even the death of this man Cronion hathleft untold. For none can surely declare the place where he hath perished,whether he was smitten by foemen on the mainland, or lost upon the deep amongthe waves of Amphitrite. So now am I come hither to thy knees, if perchancethou art willing to tell me of his pitiful death, as one that saw it with thineown eyes, or heard the story from some other wanderer,—for his motherbare him to exceeding sorrow. And speak me no soft words in ruth or pity, buttell me plainly what sight thou didst get of him. Ah! I pray thee, if ever atall my father, noble Odysseus, made promise to thee of word or work, andfulfilled the same in the land of the Trojans, where ye Achaeans sufferedaffliction; these things, I pray thee, now remember and tell me truth.”

Then Nestor of Gerenia, lord of chariots, answered him: “My friend, sincethou hast brought sorrow back to mind, behold, this is the story of the woewhich we endured in that land, we sons of the Achaeans, unrestrained in fury,and of all that we bore in wanderings after spoil, sailing with our ships overthe misty deep, wheresoever Achilles led; and of all our war round the mightyburg of king Priam. Yea and there the best of us were slain. There lies valiantAias, and there Achilles, and there Patroclus, the peer of the gods in counsel,and there my own dear son, strong and noble, Antilochus, that excelled in speedof foot and in the fight. And many other ills we suffered beside these; who ofmortal men could tell the tale? Nay none, though thou wert to abide here forfive years, ay and for six, and ask of all the ills which the goodly Achaeansthen endured. Ere all was told thou wouldst be weary and turn to thine owncountry. For nine whole years we were busy about them, devising their ruin withall manner of craft; and scarce did Cronion bring it to pass. There never a mandurst match with him in wisdom, for goodly Odysseus very far outdid the rest inall manner of craft, Odysseus thy father, if indeed thou art hisson,—amazement comes upon me as I look at thee; for verily thy speech islike unto his; none would say that a younger man would speak so like an elder.Now look you, all the while that myself and goodly Odysseus were there, wenever spake diversely either in the assembly or in the council, but always wereof one mind, and advised the Argives with understanding and sound counsel, howall might be for the very best. But after we had sacked the steep city ofPriam, and had departed in our ships, and a god had scattered the Achaeans,even then did Zeus devise in his heart a pitiful returning for the Argives, forin no wise were they all discreet or just. Wherefore many of them met with anill faring by reason of the deadly wrath of the grey-eyed goddess, the daughterof the mighty sire, who set debate between the two sons of Atreus. And theytwain called to the gathering of the host all the Achaeans, recklessly and outof order, against the going down of the sun; and lo, the sons of the Achaeanscame heavy with wine. And the Atreidae spake out and told the reason whereforethey had assembled the host. Then verily Menelaus charged all the Achaeans tobethink them of returning over the broad back of the sea, but in no sort did heplease Agamemnon, whose desire was to keep back the host and to offer holyhecatombs, that so he might appease that dread wrath of Athene. Fool! for heknew not this, that she was never to be won; for the mind of the everlastinggods is not lightly turned to repentance. So these twain stood bandying hardwords; but the goodly-greaved Achaeans sprang up with a wondrous din, andtwofold counsels found favour among them. So that one night we rested, thinkinghard things against each other, for Zeus was fashioning for us a ruinous doom.But in the morning, we of the one part drew our ships to the fair salt sea, andput aboard our wealth, and the low-girdled Trojan women. Now one half thepeople abode steadfastly there with Agamemnon, son of Atreus, shepherd of thehost; and half of us embarked and drave to sea and swiftly the ships sailed,for a god made smooth the sea with the depths thereof. And when we came toTenedos, we did sacrifice to the gods, being eager for the homeward way; butZeus did not yet purpose our returning, nay, hard was he, that roused once morean evil strife among us. Then some turned back their curved ships, and wenttheir way, even the company of Odysseus, the wise and manifold in counsel, onceagain showing a favour to Agamemnon, son of Atreus. But I fled on with thesquadron that followed me, for I knew how now the god imagined mischief. Andthe warlike son of Tydeus fled and roused his men thereto. And late in ourtrack came Menelaus of the fair hair, who found us in Lesbos, considering aboutthe long voyage, whether we should go sea-ward of craggy Chios, by the isle ofPsyria, keeping the isle upon our left, or inside Chios past windy Mimas. So weasked the god to show us a sign, and a sign he declared to us, and bade uscleave a path across the middle sea to Euboea, that we might flee the swiftestway from sorrow. And a shrill wind arose and blew, and the ships ran mostfleetly over the teeming ways, and in the night they touched at Geraestus. Sothere we sacrificed many thighs of bulls to Poseidon, for joy that we hadmeasured out so great a stretch of sea. It was the fourth day when the companyof Diomede son of Tydeus, tamer of horses, moored their gallant ships at Argos;but I held on for Pylos, and the breeze was never quenched from the hour thatthe god sent it forth to blow. Even so I came, dear child, without tidings, norknow I aught of those others, which of the Achaeans were saved and which werelost. But all that I hear tell of as I sit in our halls, thou shalt learn as itis meet, and I will hide nothing from thee. Safely, they say, came theMyrmidons the wild spearsmen, whom the famous son of high-souled Achilles led;and safely Philoctetes, the glorious son of Poias. And Idomeneus brought allhis company to Crete, all that escaped the war, and from him the sea gat none.And of the son of Atreus even yourselves have heard, far apart though ye dwell,how he came, and how Aegisthus devised his evil end; but verily he himself paida terrible reckoning. So good a thing it is that a son of the dead should stillbe left, even as that son also took vengeance on the slayer of his father,guileful Aegisthus, who slew his famous sire. And thou too, my friend, for Isee thee very comely and tall, be valiant, that even men unborn may praisethee.”

And wise Telemachus answered him, and said: “Nestor, son of Neleus, greatglory of the Achaeans, verily and indeed he avenged himself, and the Achaeansshall noise his fame abroad, that even those may hear who are yet for to be. Ohthat the gods would clothe me with such strength as his, that I might takevengeance on the wooers for their cruel transgression, who wantonly deviseagainst me infatuate deeds! But the gods have woven for me the web of no suchweal, for me or for my sire. But now I must in any wise endure it.”

Then Nestor of Gerenia, lord of chariots, made answer: “Dear friend,seeing thou dost call these things to my remembrance and speak thereof, theytell me that many wooers for thy mother’s hand plan mischief within thehalls in thy despite. Say, dost thou willingly submit thee to oppression, or dothe people through the land hate thee, obedient to the voice of a god? Whoknows but that Odysseus may some day come and requite their violence, eitherhimself alone or all the host of the Achaeans with him? Ah, if but grey-eyedAthene were inclined to love thee, as once she cared exceedingly for therenowned Odysseus in the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans were soreafflicted, for never yet have I seen the gods show forth such manifest love, asthen did Pallas Athene standing manifest by him,—if she would be pleasedso to love thee and to care for thee, then might certain of them clean forgettheir marriage.”

And wise Telemachus answered him, saying: “Old man, in no wise methinksshall this word be accomplished. This is a hard saying of thine, awe comes overme. Not for my hopes shall this thing come to pass, not even if the gods sowilled it.”

Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake to him again: “Telemachus, whatword hath escaped the door of thy lips? Lightly might a god, if so he would,bring a man safe home even from afar. Rather myself would I have travail andmuch pain ere I came home and saw the day of my returning, than come back andstraightway perish on my own hearth-stone, even as Agamemnon perished by guileat the hands of his own wife and of Aegisthus. But lo you, death, which iscommon to all, the very gods cannot avert even from the man they love, when theruinous doom shall bring him low of death that lays men at their length.”

And wise Telemachus answered her, saying: “Mentor, no longer let us tellof these things, sorrowful though we be. There is none assurance any more ofhis returning, but already have the deathless gods devised for him death andblack fate. But now I would question Nestor, and ask him of another matter, asone who above all men knows judgments and wisdom: for thrice, men say, he hathbeen king through the generations of men; yea, like an immortal he seems to meto look upon. Nestor, son of Neleus, now tell me true: how died the son ofAtreus, Agamemnon of the wide domain? Where was Menelaus? What death did craftyAegisthus plan for him, in that he killed a man more valiant far than he? Orwas Menelaus not in Argos of Achaia but wandering elsewhere among men, and thatother took heart and slew Agamemnon?”

Then Nestor of Gerenia, lord of chariots, answered him: “Yea now, mychild, I will tell thee the whole truth. Verily thou guessest aright even ofthyself how things would have fallen out, if Menelaus of the fair hair, the sonof Atreus, when he came back from Troy, had found Aegisthus yet alive in thehalls. Then even in his death would they not have heaped the piled earth overhim, but dogs and fowls of the air would have devoured him as he lay on theplain far from the town.[6] Nor would any of the Achaean women have bewailedhim; so dread was the deed he contrived. Now we sat in leaguer there, achievingmany adventures; but he the while in peace in the heart of Argos, thepastureland of horses, spake ofttimes, tempting her, to the wife of Agamemnon.Verily at the first she would none of the foul deed, the fair Clytemnestra, forshe had a good understanding. Moreover there was with her a minstrel, whom theson of Atreus straitly charged as he went to Troy to have a care of his wife.But when at last the doom of the gods bound her to her ruin, then did Aegisthuscarry the minstrel to a lonely isle, and left him there to be the prey andspoil of birds; while as for her, he led her to his house, a willing lover witha willing lady. And he burnt many thigh slices upon the holy altars of thegods, and hung up many offerings, woven-work and gold, seeing that he hadaccomplished a great deed, beyond all hope. Now we, I say, were sailingtogether on our way from Troy, the son of Atreus and I, as loving friends. Butwhen we had reached holy Sunium, the headland of Athens, there Phoebus Apolloslew the pilot of Menelaus with the visitation of his gentle shafts, as he heldbetween his hands the rudder of the running ship, even Phrontis, son of Onetor,who excelled the tribes of men in piloting a ship, whenso the storm-winds werehurrying by. Thus was Menelaus holden there, though eager for the way, till hemight bury his friend and pay the last rites over him. But when he in his turn,faring over the wine-dark sea in hollow ships, reached in swift course thesteep mount of Malea, then it was that Zeus of the far-borne voice devised ahateful path, and shed upon them the breath of the shrill winds, and greatswelling waves arose like unto mountains. There sundered he the fleet in twain,and part thereof he brought nigh to Crete, where the Cydonians dwelt about thestreams of Iardanus. Now there is a certain cliff, smooth and sheer towards thesea, on the border of Gortyn, in the misty deep, where the South-West Winddrives a great wave against the left headland, towards Phaestus, and a littlerock keeps back the mighty water. Thither came one part of the fleet, and themen scarce escaped destruction, but the ships were broken by the waves againstthe rock; while those other five dark-prowed ships the wind and the water bareand brought nigh to Egypt. Thus Menelaus, gathering much livelihood and gold,was wandering there with his ships among men of strange speech, and even thenAegisthus planned that pitiful work at home. And for seven years he ruled overMycenae, rich in gold, after he slew the son of Atreus, and the people weresubdued unto him. But in the eighth year came upon him goodly Orestes back fromAthens to be his bane, and slew the slayer of his father, guileful Aegisthus,who killed his famous sire. Now when he had slain him, he made a funeral feastto the Argives over his hateful mother, and over the craven Aegisthus. And onthe selfsame day there came to him Menelaus of the loud war-cry, bringing muchtreasure, even all the freight of his ships. So thou, my friend, wander notlong far away from home, leaving thy substance behind thee and men in thy houseso wanton, lest they divide and utterly devour all thy wealth, and thou shalthave gone on a vain journey. Rather I bid and command thee to go to Menelaus,for he hath lately come from a strange country, from the land of men whencenone would hope in his heart to return, whom once the storms have drivenwandering into so wide a sea. Thence not even the birds can make their way inthe space of one year, so great a sea it is and terrible. But go now with thyship and with thy company, or if thou hast a mind to fare by land, I have achariot and horses at thy service, yea and my sons to do thy will, who will bethy guides to goodly Lacedaemon, where is Menelaus of the fair hair. Do thouthyself entreat him, that he may give thee unerring answer. He will not lie tothee, for he is very wise.”

[6]Reading ἄστεος. v. 1.Ἄργεος, which must be wrong.

Thus he spake, and the sun went down and darkness came on. Then the goddess,grey-eyed Athene, spake among them, saying: “Yea, old man, thou hast toldall this thy tale aright. But come, cut up the tongues of the victims and mixthe wine, that we may pour forth before Poseidon and the other deathless gods,and so may bethink us of sleep, for it is the hour for sleep. For already hasthe light gone beneath the west, and it is not seemly to sit long at a banquetof the gods, but to be going home.”

So spake the daughter of Zeus, and they hearkened to her voice. And thehenchmen poured water over their hands, and pages crowned the mixing bowls withdrink, and served out the wine to all, after they had first poured for libationinto each cup in turn; and they cast the tongues upon the fire, and stood upand poured the drink-offering thereon. But when they had poured forth and haddrunken to their heart’s content, Athene and godlike Telemachus were bothset on returning to the hollow ship; but Nestor would have stayed them, andaccosted them, saying: “Zeus forfend it, and all the other deathlessgods, that ye should depart from my house to the swift ship, as from thedwelling of one that is utterly without raiment or a needy man, who hath notrugs or blankets many in his house whereon to sleep softly, he or his guests.Nay not so, I have rugs and fair blankets by me. Never, methinks, shall thedear son of this man, even of Odysseus, lay him down upon the ship’sdeck, while as yet I am alive, and my children after me are left in my hall toentertain strangers, whoso may chance to come to my house.”

Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake to him again: “Yea, herein hastthou spoken aright, dear father: and Telemachus may well obey thee, for beforeall things this is meet. Behold, he shall now depart with thee, that he maysleep in thy halls; as for me I will go to the black ship, that I may cheer mycompany and tell them all. For I avow me to be the one elder among them; thoseothers are but younger men, who follow for love of him, all of them of like agewith the high-souled Telemachus. There will I lay me down by the black hollowship this night; but in the morning I will go to the Cauconians high of heart,where somewhat of mine is owing to me, no small debt nor of yesterday. But dothou send this man upon his way with thy chariot and thy son, since he hathcome to thy house, and give him horses the lightest of foot and chief instrength.”

Therewith grey-eyed Athene departed in the semblance of a sea-eagle; andamazement fell on all that saw it, and the old man he marvelled when his eyesbeheld it. And he took the hand of Telemachus and spake and hailed him:

“My friend, methinks that thou wilt in no sort be a coward and aweakling, if indeed in thy youth the gods thus follow with thee to be thyguides. For truly this is none other of those who keep the mansions of Olympus,save only the daughter of Zeus, the driver of the spoil, the maiden Trito-born,she that honoured thy good father too among the Argives. Nay be gracious,queen, and vouchsafe a goodly fame to me, even to me and to my sons and to mywife revered. And I in turn will sacrifice to thee a yearling heifer, broad ofbrow, unbroken, which man never yet hath led beneath the yoke. Such an one willI offer to thee, and gild her horns with gold.”

Even so he spake in prayer, and Pallas Athene heard him. Then Nestor ofGerenia, lord of chariots, led them, even his sons and the husbands of hisdaughters, to his own fair house. But when they had reached this prince’sfamous halls, they sat down all orderly on seats and high chairs; and when theywere come, the old man mixed well for them a bowl of sweet wine, which now inthe eleventh year from the vintaging the housewife opened, and unloosed thestring that fastened the lid. The old man let mix a bowl thereof, and prayedinstantly to Athene as he poured forth before her, even to the daughter ofZeus, lord of the aegis.

But after they had poured forth and had drunken to their heart’s content,these went each one to his own house to lie down to rest. But Nestor ofGerenia, lord of chariots, would needs have Telemachus, son of divine Odysseus,to sleep there on a jointed bedstead beneath the echoing gallery, and by himPeisistratus of the good ashen spear, leader of men, who alone of his sons wasyet unwed in his halls. As for him he slept within the inmost chamber of thelofty house, and the lady his wife arrayed for him bedstead and bedding.

So soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, Nestor of Gerenia, lordof chariots, gat him up from his bed, and he went forth and sat him down uponthe smooth stones, which were before his lofty doors, all polished, white andglistening, whereon Neleus sat of old, in counsel the peer of the gods.Howbeit, stricken by fate, he had ere now gone down to the house of Hades, andto-day Nestor of Gerenia in his turn sat thereon, warder of the Achaeans, withhis staff in his hands. And about him his sons were gathered and come together,issuing from their chambers, Echephron and Stratius, and Perseus and Aretus andthe godlike Thrasymedes. And sixth and last came the hero Peisistratus. Andthey led godlike Telemachus and set him by their side, and Nestor of Gerenia,lord of chariots, spake first among them:

“Quickly, my dear children, accomplish my desire, that first of all thegods I may propitiate Athene, who came to me in visible presence to the richfeast of the god. Nay then, let one go to the plain for a heifer, that she maycome as soon as may be, and that the neat-herd may drive her: and let anothergo to the black ship of high-souled Telemachus to bring all his company, andlet him leave two men only. And let one again bid Laerces the goldsmith to comehither that he may gild the horns of the heifer. And ye others, abide ye heretogether and speak to the handmaids within that they make ready a banquetthrough our famous halls, and fetch seats and logs to set about the altar, andbring clear water.”

Thus he spake and lo, they all hastened to the work. The heifer she came fromthe field, and from the swift gallant ship came the company of great-heartedTelemachus; the smith came holding in his hands his tools, the instruments ofhis craft, anvil and hammer and well-made pincers, wherewith he wrought thegold; Athene too came to receive her sacrifice. And the old knight Nestor gavegold, and the other fashioned it skilfully, and gilded therewith the horns ofthe heifer, that the goddess might be glad at the sight of her fair offering.And Stratius and goodly Echephron led the heifer by the horns. And Aretus cameforth from the chamber bearing water for the washing of hands in a basin offlowered work, and in the other hand he held the barley-meal in a basket; andThrasymedes, steadfast in the battle, stood by holding in his hand a sharp axe,ready to smite the heifer. And Perseus held the dish for the blood, and the oldman Nestor, driver of chariots, performed the first rite of the washing ofhands and the sprinkling of the meal, and he prayed instantly to Athene as hebegan the rite, casting into the fire the lock from the head of the victim.

Now when they had prayed and tossed the sprinkled grain, straightway the son ofNestor, gallant Thrasymedes, stood by and struck the blow; and the axe severedthe tendons of the neck and loosened the might of the heifer; and the womenraised their cry, the daughters and the sons’ wives and the wife reveredof Nestor, Eurydice, eldest of the daughters of Clymenus. And now they liftedthe victim’s head from the wide-wayed earth, and held it so, whilePeisistratus, leader of men, cut the throat. And after the black blood hadgushed forth and the life had left the bones, quickly they broke up the body,and anon cut slices from the thighs all duly, and wrapt the same in the fat,folding them double, and laid raw flesh thereon. So that old man burnt them onthe cleft wood, and poured over them the red wine, and by his side the youngmen held in their hands the five-pronged forks. Now after that the thighs werequite consumed and they had tasted the inner parts, they cut the rest up smalland spitted and roasted it, holding the sharp spits in their hands.

Meanwhile she bathed Telemachus, even fair Polycaste, the youngest daughter ofNestor, son of Neleus. And after she had bathed him and anointed him with oliveoil, and cast about him a goodly mantle and a doublet, he came forth from thebath in fashion like the deathless gods. So he went and sat him down by Nestor,shepherd of the people.

Now when they had roasted the outer flesh, and drawn it off the spits, they satdown and fell to feasting, and honourable men waited on them, pouring wine intothe golden cups. But when they had put from them the desire of meat and drink,Nestor of Gerenia, lord of chariots, first spake among them:

“Lo now, my sons, yoke for Telemachus horses with flowing mane and leadthem beneath the car, that he may get forward on his way.”

Even so he spake, and they gave good heed and hearkened; and quickly they yokedthe swift horses beneath the chariot. And the dame that kept the stores placedtherein corn and wine and dainties, such as princes eat, the fosterlings ofZeus. So Telemachus stept up into the goodly car, and with him Peisistratus sonof Nestor, leader of men, likewise climbed the car and grasped the reins in hishands, and he touched the horses with the whip to start them, and nothing loththe pair flew towards the plain, and left the steep citadel of Pylos. So allday long they swayed the yoke they bore upon their necks.

Now the sun sank and all the ways were darkened. And they came to Pherae, tothe house of Diocles, son of Orsilochus, the child begotten of Alpheus. Therethey rested for the night, and by them he set the entertainment of strangers.

Now so soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, they yoked the horsesand mounted the inlaid car. And forth they drave from the gateway and theechoing gallery, and Peisistratus touched the horses with the whip to startthem, and the pair flew onward nothing loth. So they came to the wheat-bearingplain, and thenceforth they pressed toward the end: in such wise did the swifthorses speed forward. Now the sun sank and all the ways were darkened.

BOOK IV.

Telemachus’ entertainment at Sparta, where Menelaus tells him what befellmany of the Greeks on their return; that Odysseus was with Calypso in the isleOgygia, as he was told by Proteus.

And they came to Lacedaemon lying low among the caverned hills, and drave tothe dwelling of renowned Menelaus. Him they found giving a feast in his houseto many friends of his kin, a feast for the wedding of his noble son anddaughter. His daughter he was sending to the son of Achilles, cleaver of theranks of men, for in Troy he first had promised and covenanted to give her, andnow the gods were bringing about their marriage. So now he was speeding her onher way with chariot and horses, to the famous city of the Myrmidons, amongwhom her lord bare rule. And for his son he was bringing to his home thedaughter of Alector out of Sparta, for his well-beloved son, strongMegapenthes,[7] born of a slave woman, for the gods no more showedpromise of seed to Helen, from the day that she bare a lovely child, Hermione,as fair as golden Aphrodite. So they were feasting through the great vaultedhall, the neighbours and the kinsmen of renowned Menelaus, making merry; andamong them a divine minstrel was singing to the lyre, and as he began the songtwo tumblers in the company whirled through the midst of them.

[7] Ason of sorrow: Tristram.

Meanwhile those twain, the hero Telemachus and the splendid son of Nestor, madehalt at the entry of the gate, they and their horses. And the lord Eteoneuscame forth and saw them, the ready squire of renowned Menelaus; and he wentthrough the palace to bear the tidings to the shepherd of the people, andstanding near spake to him winged words:

“Menelaus, fosterling of Zeus, here are two strangers, whosoever they be,two men like to the lineage of great Zeus. Say, shall we loose their swifthorses from under the yoke, or send them onward to some other host who shallreceive them kindly?”

Then in sore displeasure spake to him Menelaus of the fair hair:“Eteoneus son of Boethous, truly thou wert not a fool aforetime, but nowfor this once, like a child thou talkest folly. Surely ourselves ate muchhospitable cheer of other men, ere we twain came hither, even if in time tocome Zeus haply give us rest from affliction. Nay go, unyoke the horses of thestrangers, and as for the men, lead them forward to the house to feast withus.”

So spake he, and Eteoneus hasted from the hall, and called the other readysquires to follow with him. So they loosed the sweating horses from beneath theyoke, and fastened them at the stalls of the horses, and threw beside themspelt, and therewith mixed white barley, and tilted the chariot against theshining faces of the gateway, and led the men into the hall divine. And theybeheld and marvelled as they gazed throughout the palace of the king, thefosterling of Zeus; for there was a gleam as it were of sun or moon through thelofty palace of renowned Menelaus. But after they had gazed their fill, theywent to the polished baths and bathed them. Now when the maidens had bathedthem and anointed them with olive oil, and cast about them thick cloaks anddoublets, they sat on chairs by Menelaus, son of Atreus. And a handmaid barewater for the hands in a goodly golden ewer, and poured it forth over a silverbasin to wash withal; and to their side she drew a polished table, and a gravedame bare food and set it by them, and laid upon the board many dainties,giving freely of such things as she had by her, and a carver lifted and placedby them platters of divers kinds of flesh, and nigh them he set golden bowls.So Menelaus of the fair hair greeted the twain and spake:

“Taste ye food and be glad, and thereafter when ye have supped, we willask what men ye are; for the blood of your parents is not lost in you, but yeare of the line of men that are sceptred kings, the fosterlings of Zeus; for nochurls could beget sons like you.”

So spake he, and took and set before them the fat ox-chine roasted, which theyhad given him as his own mess by way of honour. And they stretched forth theirhands upon the good cheer set before them. Now when they had put from them thedesire of meat and drink Telemachus spake to the son of Nestor, holding hishead close to him, that those others might not hear:

“Son of Nestor, delight of my heart, mark the flashing of bronze throughthe echoing halls, and the flashing of gold and of amber and of silver and ofivory. Such like, methinks, is the court of Olympian Zeus within, for the worldof things that are here; wonder comes over me as I look thereon.”

And as he spake Menelaus of the fair hair was ware of him, and uttering hisvoice spake to them winged words:

“Children dear, of a truth no one of mortal men may contend with Zeus,for his mansions and his treasures are everlasting: but of men there may be whowill vie with me in treasure, or there may be none. Yea, for after many a woeand wanderings manifold, I brought my wealth home in ships, and in the eighthyear came hither. I roamed over Cyprus and Phoenicia and Egypt, and reached theAethiopians and Sidonians and Erembi and Libya, where lambs are horned from thebirth. For there the ewes yean thrice within the full circle of a year; thereneither lord nor shepherd lacketh aught of cheese or flesh or of sweet milk,but ever the flocks yield store of milk continual. While I was yet roaming inthose lands, gathering much livelihood, meantime another slew my brotherprivily, at unawares, by the guile of his accursed wife. Thus, look you, I haveno joy of my lordship among these my possessions: and ye are like to have heardhereof from your fathers, whosoever they be, for I have suffered much and let ahouse go to ruin that was stablished fair, and had in it much choice substance.I would that I had but a third part of those my riches, and dwelt in my halls,and that those men were yet safe, who perished of old in the wide land of Troy,far from Argos, the pastureland of horses. Howbeit, though I bewail them alland sorrow oftentimes as I sit in our halls,—awhile indeed I satisfy mysoul with lamentation, and then again I cease; for soon hath man enough ofchill lamentation—yet for them all I make no such dole, despite my grief,as for one only, who causes me to loathe both sleep and meat, when I think uponhim. For no one of the Achaeans toiled so greatly as Odysseus toiled andadventured himself: but to him it was to be but labour and trouble, and to megrief ever comfortless for his sake, so long he is afar, nor know we aught,whether he be alive or dead. Yea methinks they lament him, even that oldLaertes and the constant Penelope and Telemachus, whom he left a child new-bornin his house.”

So spake he, and in the heart of Telemachus he stirred a yearning to lament hisfather; and at his father’s name he let a tear fall from his eyelids tothe ground, and held up his purple mantle with both his hands before his eyes.And Menelaus marked him and mused in his mind and his heart whether he shouldleave him to speak of his father, or first question him and prove him in everyword.

While yet he pondered these things in his mind and in his heart, Helen cameforth from her fragrant vaulted chamber, like Artemis of the golden arrows; andwith her came Adraste and set for her the well-wrought chair, and Alcippe barea rug of soft wool, and Phylo bare a silver basket which Alcandre gave her, thewife of Polybus, who dwelt in Thebes of Egypt, where is the chiefest store ofwealth in the houses. He gave two silver baths to Menelaus, and tripods twain,ad ten talents of gold. And besides all this, his wife bestowed on Helen lovelygifts; a golden distaff did she give, and a silver basket with wheels beneath,and the rims thereof were finished with gold. This it was that the handmaidPhylo bare and set beside her, filled with dressed yarn, and across it was laida distaff charged with wool of violet blue. So Helen sat her down in the chair,and beneath was a footstool for the feet. And anon she spake to her lord andquestioned him of each thing:

“Menelaus, fosterling of Zeus, know we now who these men avow themselvesto be that have come under our roof? Shall I dissemble or shall I speak thetruth? Nay, I am minded to tell it. None, I say, have I ever yet seen so likeanother, man or woman—wonder comes over me as I look on him—as thisman is like the son of great-hearted Odysseus, Telemachus, whom he left a newborn child in his house, when for the sake of me, shameless woman that I was,ye Achaeans came up under Troy with bold war in your hearts.”

And Menelaus of the fair hair answered her, saying: “Now I too, lady,mark the likeness even as thou tracest it. For such as these were his feet,such his hands, and the glances of his eyes, and his head, and his hair withal.Yea, and even now I was speaking of Odysseus, as I remembered him, of all hiswoeful travail for my sake; when, lo, he let fall a bitter tear beneath hisbrows, and held his purple cloak up before his eyes.”

And Peisistratus, son of Nestor, answered him, saying: “Menelaus, son ofAtreus, fosterling of Zeus, leader of the host, assuredly this is the son ofthat very man, even as thou sayest. But he is of a sober wit, and thinketh itshame in his heart as on this his first coming to make show of presumptuouswords in the presence of thee, in whose voice we twain delight as in the voiceof a god. Now Nestor of Gerenia, lord of chariots, sent me forth to be hisguide on the way: for he desired to see thee that thou mightest put into hisheart some word or work. For a son hath many griefs in his halls when hisfather is away, if perchance he hath none to stand by him. Even so it is nowwith Telemachus; his father is away, nor hath he others in the township todefend him from distress.”

And Menelaus of the fair hair answered him, and said: “Lo now, in goodtruth there has come unto my house the son of a friend indeed, who for my sakeendured many adventures. And I thought to welcome him on his coming more noblythan all the other Argives, if but Olympian Zeus, of the far-borne voice, hadvouchsafed us a return over the sea in our swift ships,—that such a thingshould be. And in Argos I would have given him a city to dwell in, andstablished for him a house, and brought him forth from Ithaca with hissubstance and his son and all his people, making one city desolate of thosethat lie around, and are in mine own domain. Then ofttimes would we have heldconverse here, and nought would have parted us, the welcoming and thewelcomed,[8]ere the black cloud of death overshadowed us. Howsoever, the god himself,methinks, must have been jealous hereof, who from that hapless man alone cutoff his returning.”

[8] Mr.Evelyn Abbott of Balliol College has suggested to us thatφιλέοντε andτερπομένω are here correlatives,and denote respectively the parts of host and of guest. This is sufficientlyborne out by the usage of the words elsewhere.

So spake he, and in the hearts of all he stirred the desire of lamentation. Shewept, even Argive Helen the daughter of Zeus, and Telemachus wept, and Menelausthe son of Atreus; nay, nor did the son of Nestor keep tearless eyes. For hebethought him in his heart of noble Antilochus, whom the glorious son of thebright Dawn had slain. Thinking upon him he spake winged words:

“Son of Atreus, the ancient Nestor in his own halls was ever wont to saythat thou wert wise beyond man’s wisdom, whensoever we made mention ofthee and asked one another concerning thee. And now, if it be possible, bepersuaded by me, who for one have no pleasure in weeping at suppertime—the new-born day will right soon be upon us.[9] Not indeed that I deem it blameat all to weep for any mortal who hath died and met his fate. Lo, this is nowthe only due we pay to miserable men, to cut the hair and let the tear fallfrom the cheek. For I too have a brother dead, nowise the meanest of theArgives, and thou art like to have known him, for as for me I never encounteredhim, never beheld him. But men say that Antilochus outdid all, being excellentin speed of foot and in the fight.”

[9] Cf. B. xv. 50.

And Menelaus of the fair hair answered him, and said: “My friend, lo, thou hastsaid all that a wise man might say or do, yea, and an elder than thou;—for fromsuch a sire too thou art sprung, wherefore thou dost even speak wisely. Righteasily known is that man’s seed, for whom Cronion weaves the skein of luck atbridal and at birth: even as now hath he granted prosperity to Nestor for everfor all his days, that he himself should grow into a smooth old age in hishalls, and his sons moreover should be wise and the best of spearsmen. But wewill cease now the weeping which was erewhile made, and let us once morebethink us of our supper, and let them pour water over our hands. And again inthe morning there will be tales for Telemachus and me to tell one to the other,even to the end.”

So spake he, and Asphalion poured water over their hands, the ready squire ofrenowned Menelaus. And they put forth their hands upon the good cheer spreadbefore them.

Then Helen, daughter of Zeus, turned to new thoughts. Presently she cast a druginto the wine whereof they drank, a drug to lull all pain and anger, and bringforgetfulness of every sorrow. Whoso should drink a draught thereof, when it ismingled in the bowl, on that day he would let no tear fall down his cheeks, notthough his mother and his father died, not though men slew his brother or dearson with the sword before his face, and his own eyes beheld it. Medicines ofsuch virtue and so helpful had the daughter of Zeus, which Polydamna, the wifeof Thon, had given her, a woman of Egypt, where earth the grain-giver yieldsherbs in greatest plenty, many that are healing in the cup, and many baneful.There each man is a leech skilled beyond all human kind; yea, for they are ofthe race of Paeeon. Now after she had cast in the drug and bidden pour forth ofthe wine, she made answer once again, and spake unto her lord:

“Son of Atreus, Menelaus, fosterling of Zeus, and lo, ye sons of noblemen, forasmuch as now to one and now to another Zeus gives good and evil, forto him all things are possible,—now, verily, sit ye down and feast in thehalls, and take ye joy in the telling of tales, and I will tell you one thatfits the time. Now all of them I could not tell or number, so many as were theadventures of Odysseus of the hardy heart; but, ah, what a deed was this hewrought and dared in his hardiness in the land of the Trojans, where yeAchaeans suffered affliction. He subdued his body with unseemly stripes, and asorry covering he cast about his shoulders, and in the fashion of a servant hewent down into the wide-wayed city of the foemen, and he hid himself in theguise of another, a beggar, though in no wise such an one was he at the shipsof the Achaeans. In this semblance he passed into the city of the Trojans, andthey wist not who he was, and I alone knew him in that guise, and I keptquestioning him, but in his subtlety he avoided me. But when at last I wasabout washing him and anointing him with olive oil, and had put on him raiment,and sworn a great oath not to reveal Odysseus amid the Trojans, ere he reachedthe swift ships and the huts, even then he told me all the purpose of theAchaeans. And after slaying many of the Trojans with the long sword, hereturned to the Argives and brought back word again of all. Then the otherTrojan women wept aloud, but my soul was glad, for already my heart was turnedto go back again even to my home: and now at the last I groaned for theblindness that Aphrodite gave me, when she led me thither away from mine owncountry, forsaking my child and my bridal chamber and my lord, that lacked notaught whether for wisdom or yet for beauty.”

And Menelaus of the fair hair answered her, saying: “Verily all thistale, lady, thou hast duly told. Ere now have I learned the counsel and thethought of many heroes, and travelled over many a land, but never yet have mineeyes beheld any such man of heart as was Odysseus; such another deed as hewrought and dared in his hardiness even in the shapen horse, wherein sat all wechiefs of the Argives, bearing to the Trojans death and doom. Anon thou camestthither, and sure some god must have bidden thee, who wished to bring glory tothe Trojans. Yea and godlike Deiphobus went with thee on thy way. Thrice thoudidst go round about the hollow ambush and handle it, calling aloud on thechiefs of the Argives by name, and making thy voice like the voices of thewives of all the Argives. Now I and the son of Tydeus and goodly Odysseus satin the midst and heard thy call; and verily we twain had a desire to start upand come forth or presently to answer from within; but Odysseus stayed and heldus there, despite our eagerness. Then all the other sons of the Achaeans heldtheir peace, but Anticlus alone was still minded to answer thee. HowbeitOdysseus firmly closed his mouth with strong hands, and so saved all theAchaeans, and held him until such time as Pallas Athene led thee back.”

Then wise Telemachus answered him, and said: “Menelaus, son of Atreus,fosterling of Zeus, leader of the host, all the more grievous it is! for in noway did this courage ward from him pitiful destruction, not though his heartwithin him had been very iron. But come, bid us to bed, that forthwith we maytake our joy of rest beneath the spell of sleep.”

So spake he, and Argive Helen bade her handmaids set out bedsteads beneath thegallery, and fling on them fair purple blankets and spread coverlets above, andthereon lay thick mantles to be a clothing over all. So they went from the hallwith torch in hand, and spread the beds, and the henchman led forth the guests.Thus they slept there in the vestibule of the house, the hero Telemachus andthe splendid son of Nestor. But the son of Atreus slept, as his custom was, inthe inmost chamber of the lofty house, and by him lay long-robed Helen, thatfair lady.

Soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, Menelaus of the loudwar-shout gat him up from his bed and put on his raiment, and cast his sharpsword about his shoulder, and beneath his smooth feet bound his goodly sandals,and stept forth from his chamber, in presence like a god, and sat byTelemachus, and spake and hailed him:

“To what end hath thy need brought thee hither, hero Telemachus, untofair Lacedaemon, over the broad back of the sea? Is it a matter of the commonweal or of thine own? Herein tell me the plain truth.”

Then wise Telemachus answered him, and said: “Menelaus, son of Atreus,fosterling of Zeus, leader of the host, I have come if perchance thou mayesttell me some tidings of my father. My dwelling is being devoured and my fatlands are ruined, and of unfriendly men my house is full,—who slaughtercontinually my thronging flocks, and my kine with trailing feet and shamblinggait,—none other than the wooers of my mother, despiteful out of measure.So now am I come hither to thy knees, if haply thou art willing to tell me ofhis pitiful death, as one that saw it perchance with thine own eyes, or heardthe story from some other wanderer; for his mother bare him to exceedingsorrow. And speak me no soft words in ruth or pity, but tell me plainly howthou didst get sight of him. Ah, I pray thee, if ever at all my father, goodOdysseus, made promise to thee of word or work and fulfilled the same in theland of the Trojans, where ye Achaeans suffered affliction, these things, Ipray thee, now remember and tell me truth.”

Then in heavy displeasure spake to him Menelaus of the fair hair: “Outupon them, for truly in the bed of a brave-hearted man were they minded to lie,very cravens as they are! Even as when a hind hath couched her newborn fawnsunweaned in a strong lion’s lair, and searcheth out the mountain kneesand grassy hollows, seeking pasture, and afterward the lion cometh back to hisbed, and sendeth forth unsightly death upon that pair, even so shall Odysseussend forth unsightly death upon the wooers. Would to our father Zeus and Atheneand Apollo, would that in such might as when of old in stablished Lesbos herose up and wrestled a match with Philomeleides and threw him mightily, and allthe Achaeans rejoiced; would that in such strength Odysseus might consort withthe wooers: then should they all have swift fate, and bitter wedlock! But forthat whereof thou askest and entreatest me, be sure I will not swerve from thetruth in aught that I say, nor deceive thee; but of all that the ancient one ofthe sea, whose speech is sooth, declared to me, not a word will I hide or keepfrom thee.

“In the river Aegyptus,[10] though eager I was to press onward home, the godsthey stayed me, for that I had not offered them the acceptable sacrifice ofhecatombs, and the gods ever desired that men should be mindful of theircommandments. Now there is an island in the wash of the waves over againstAegyptus, and men call it Pharos, within one day’s voyage of a hollowship, when shrill winds blow fair in her wake. And therein is a good haven,whence men launch the gallant ships into the deep when they have drawn a storeof deep black water. There the gods held me twenty days, nor did the sea-windsever show their breath, they that serve to waft ships over the broad back ofthe sea. And now would all our corn have been spent, and likewise the strengthof the men, except some goddess had taken pity on me and saved me, Eidothee,daughter of mighty Proteus, the ancient one of the sea. For most of all I movedher heart, when she met me wandering alone apart from my company, who were everroaming round the isle, fishing with bent hooks, for hunger was gnawing attheir belly. So she stood by, and spake and uttered her voice saying:

[10]The only name for the Nile in Homer. Cf. Wilkinson, Ancient Egyptians (1878),vol. i., p. 7.

“‘Art thou so very foolish, stranger, and feeble-witted, or artthou wilfully remiss, and hast pleasure in suffering? So long time art thouholden in the isle and canst find no issue therefrom, while the heart of thycompany faileth within them?’

“Even so she spake, and I answered her saying: ‘I will speak forth,what goddess soever thou art, and tell thee that in no wise am I holden here bymine own will, but it needs must be that I have sinned against the deathlessgods, who keep the wide heaven. Howbeit, do thou tell me—for the godsknow all things—which of the immortals it is that binds me here and hathhindered me from my way, and declare as touching my returning how I may go overthe teeming deep.’

“So I spake, and straightway the fair goddess made answer: ‘Yeanow, sir, I will plainly tell thee all. Hither resorteth that ancient one ofthe sea, whose speech is sooth, the deathless Egyptian Proteus, who knows thedepths of every sea, and is the thrall of Poseidon, and who, they say, is myfather that begat me. If thou couldst but lay an ambush and catch him, he willsurely declare to thee the way and the measure of thy path, and will tell theeof thy returning, how thou mayest go over the teeming deep. Yea, and he willshow thee, O fosterling of Zeus, if thou wilt, what good thing and what evilhath been wrought in thy halls, whilst thou has been faring this long andgrievous way.’

“So she spake, but I answered and said unto her: ‘Devise nowthyself the ambush to take this ancient one divine, lest by any chance he seeme first, or know of my coming, and avoid me. For a god is hard for mortal manto quell.’

“So spake I, and straightway the fair goddess made answer: ‘Yeanow, sir, I will plainly tell thee all. So often as the sun in his coursestands high in mid heaven, then forth from the brine comes the ancient one ofthe sea, whose speech is sooth, before the breath of the West Wind he comes,and the sea’s dark ripple covers him. And when he is got forth, he liesdown to sleep in the hollow of the caves. And around him the seals, the broodof the fair daughter of the brine, sleep all in a flock, stolen forth from thegrey sea water, and bitter is the scent they breathe of the deeps of the saltsea. There will I lead thee at the breaking of the day, and couch you allorderly; so do thou choose diligently three of thy company, the best thou hastin thy decked ships. And I will tell thee all the magic arts of that old man.First, he will number the seals and go over them; but when he has told theirtale and beheld them, he will lay him down in the midst, as a shepherd mid thesheep of his flock. So soon as ever ye shall see him couched, even then mindyou of your might and strength, and hold him there, despite his eagerness andstriving to be free. And he will make assay, and take all manner of shapes ofthings that creep upon the earth, of water likewise, and of fierce fireburning. But do ye grasp him steadfastly and press him yet the more, and atlength when he questions thee in his proper shape, as he was when first ye sawhim laid to rest, then, hero, hold thy strong hands, and let the ancient one gofree, and ask him which of the gods is hard upon thee, and as touching thyreturning, how thou mayest go over the teeming deep.’

“Therewith she dived beneath the heaving sea, but I betook me to theships where they stood in the sand, and my heart was darkly troubled as I went.But after I had come down to the ship and to the sea, and we had made ready oursupper and immortal night had come on, then did we lay us to rest upon thesea-beach. So soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy fingered, in that hour Iwalked by the shore of the wide-wayed sea, praying instantly to the gods; and Itook with me three of my company, in whom I trusted most for every enterprise.

“Meanwhile, so it was that she had plunged into the broad bosom of thesea, and had brought from the deep the skins of four sea-calves, and all werenewly flayed, for she was minded to lay a snare for her father. She scoopedlairs on the sea-sand, and sat awaiting us, and we drew very nigh her, and shemade us all lie down in order, and cast a skin over each. There would ourambush have been most terrible, for the deadly stench of the sea bred sealsdistressed us sore: nay, who would lay him down by a beast of the sea? Butherself she wrought deliverance, and devised a great comfort. She took ambrosiaof a very sweet savour, and set it beneath each man’s nostril, and didaway with the stench of the beast. So all the morning we waited with steadfastheart, and the seals came forth in troops from the brine, and then they couchedthem all orderly by the sea-beach. And at high day the ancient one came forthfrom out of the brine, and found his fatted seals, yea and he went along theirline and told their tale; and first among the sea-beasts he reckoned us, andguessed not that there was guile, and afterward he too laid him down. Then werushed upon him with a cry, and cast our hands about him, nor did that ancientone forget his cunning. Now behold, at the first he turned into a bearded lion,and thereafter into a snake, and a pard, and a huge boar; then he took theshape of running water, and of a tall and flowering tree. We the while held himclose with steadfast heart. But when now that ancient one of the magic arts wasaweary, then at last he questioned me and spake unto me, saying:

“‘Which of the gods was it, son of Atreus, that aided thee with hiscounsel, that thou mightest waylay and take me perforce? What wouldest thouthereby?’

“Even so he spake, but I answered him saying; ‘Old man, thouknowest all, wherefore dost thou question me thereof with crooked words? Forlo, I am holden long time in this isle, neither can I find any issue therefrom,and my heart faileth within me. Howbeit do thou tell me—for the gods knowall things—which of the immortals it is that bindeth me here, and hathhindered me from my way; and declare as touching my returning, how I may goover the teeming deep.’

“Even so I spake, and he straightway answered me, saying: ‘Nay,surely thou shouldest have done goodly sacrifice to Zeus and the other gods erethine embarking, that with most speed thou mightst reach thy country, sailingover the wine-dark deep. For it is not thy fate to see thy friends, and come tothy stablished house and thine own country, till thou hast passed yet againwithin the waters of Aegyptus, the heaven-fed stream, and offered holyhecatombs to the deathless gods who keep the wide heaven. So shall the godsgrant thee the path which thou desirest.’

“So spake he, but my spirit within me was broken, for that he bade meagain to go to Aegyptus over the misty deep, a long and grievous way.

“Yet even so I answered him saying: ‘Old man, all this will I do,according to thy word. But come, declare me this, and tell it all plainly. Didall those Achaeans return safe with their ships, all whom Nestor and I left aswe went from Troy, or perished any by a shameful death aboard his own ship, orin the arms of his friends, after he had wound up the clew of war?’

“So spake I, and anon he answered me, saying: ‘Son of Atreus, whydost thou straitly question me hereof? Nay, it is not for thy good to know orlearn my thought; for I tell thee thou shalt not long be tearless, when thouhast heard it all aright. For many of these were taken, and many were left; buttwo only of the leaders of the mail-coated Achaeans perished in returning; asfor the battle, thou thyself wast there. And one methinks is yet alive, and isholden on the wide deep. Aias in truth was smitten in the midst of his ships ofthe long oars. Poseidon at first brought him nigh to Gyrae, to the mightyrocks, and delivered him from the sea. And so he would have fled his doom,albeit hated by Athene, had he not let a proud word fall in the fatal darkeningof his heart. He said that in the gods’ despite he had escaped the greatgulf of the sea; and Poseidon heard his loud boasting, and presently caught uphis trident into his strong hands, and smote the rock Gyraean and cleft it intwain. And the one part abode in his place, but the other fell into the sea,the broken piece whereon Aias sat at the first, when his heart was darkened.And the rock bore him down into the vast and heaving deep; so there he perishedwhen he had drunk of the salt sea water. But thy brother verily escaped thefates and avoided them in his hollow ships, for queen Hera saved him. But nowwhen he was like soon to reach the steep mount of Malea, lo, the storm windsnatched him away and bore him over the teeming deep, making great moan, to theborder of the country whereof old Thyestes dwelt, but now Aegisthus abodethere, the son of Thyestes. But when thence too there showed a good prospect ofsafe returning, and the gods changed the wind to a fair gale, and they hadreached home, then verily did Agamemnon set foot with joy upon hiscountry’s soil, and as he touched his own land he kissed it, and manywere the hot tears he let fall, for he saw his land and was glad. And it was sothat the watchman spied him from his tower, the watchman whom crafty Aegisthushad led and posted there, promising him for a reward two talents of gold. Nowhe kept watch for the space of a year, lest Agamemnon should pass by him whenhe looked not, and mind him of his wild prowess. So he went to the house tobear the tidings to the shepherd of the people. And straightway Aegisthuscontrived a cunning treason. He chose out twenty of the best men in thetownship, and set an ambush, and on the further side of the hall he commandedto prepare a feast. Then with chariot and horses he went to bid to the feastAgamemnon, shepherd of the people; but caitiff thoughts were in his heart. Hebrought him up to his house, all unwitting of his doom, and when he had feastedhim slew him, as one slayeth an ox at the stall. And none of the company ofAtreides that were of his following were left, nor any of the men of Aegisthus,but they were all killed in the halls.’

“So spake he, and my spirit within me was broken, and I wept as I satupon the sand, nor was I minded any more to live and see the light of the sun.But when I had taken my fill of weeping and grovelling on the ground, thenspake the ancient one of the sea, whose speech is sooth:

“‘No more, son of Atreus, hold this long weeping without cease, forwe shall find no help therein. Rather with all haste make essay that so thoumayest come to thine own country. For either thou shalt find Aegisthus yetalive, or it may be Orestes was beforehand with thee and slew him; so mayestthou chance upon his funeral feast.’

“So he spake, and my heart and lordly soul again were comforted for allmy sorrow, and I uttered my voice and I spake to him winged words:

“‘Their fate I now know; but tell me of the third; who is it thatis yet living and holden on the wide deep, or perchance is dead? and fain wouldI hear despite my sorrow.’

“So spake I, and straightway he answered, and said: ‘It is the sonof Laertes, whose dwelling is in Ithaca; and I saw him in an island sheddingbig tears in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who holds him there perforce; sohe may not come to his own country, for he has by him no ships with oars, andno companions to send him on his way over the broad back of the sea. But thou,Menelaus, son of Zeus, art not ordained to die and meet thy fate in Argos, thepasture-land of horses, but the deathless gods will convey thee to the Elysianplain and the world’s end, where is Rhadamanthus of the fair hair, wherelife is easiest for men. No snow is there, nor yet great storm, nor any rain;but always ocean sendeth forth the breeze of the shrill West to blow cool onmen; yea, for thou hast Helen to wife, and thereby they deem thee to be son ofZeus.’

“So spake he, and plunged into the heaving sea; but I betook me to theships with my godlike company, and my heart was darkly troubled as I went. Nowafter I had come down to the ship and to the sea, and had made ready oursupper, and immortal night had come on, then did we lay us to rest upon thesea-beach. So soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, first of allwe drew down our ships to the fair salt sea and placed the masts and the sailsin the gallant ships, and the crew too climbed on board, and sat upon thebenches and smote the grey sea water with their oars. Then back I went to thewaters of Aegyptus, the heaven-fed stream, and there I moored the ships andoffered the acceptable sacrifice of hecatombs. So when I had appeased the angerof the everlasting gods, I piled a barrow to Agamemnon, that his fame mightnever be quenched. So having fulfilled all, I set out for home, and thedeathless gods gave me a fair wind, and brought me swiftly to mine own dearcountry. But lo, now tarry in my halls till it shall be the eleventh day henceor the twelfth. Then will I send thee with all honour on thy way, and give theesplendid gifts, three horses and a polished car; and moreover I will give theea goodly chalice, that thou mayest pour forth before the deathless gods, and bemindful of me all the days of thy life.”

Then wise Telemachus answered him, saying: “Son of Atreus, nay, hold menot long time here. Yea even for a year would I be content to sit by thee, andno desire for home or parents would come upon me; for I take wondrous pleasurein thy tales and talk. But already my company wearieth in fair Pylos, and yetthou art keeping me long time here. And whatsoever gift thou wouldest give me,let it be a thing to treasure; but horses I will take none to Ithaca, but leavethem here to grace thine own house, for thou art lord of a wide plain whereinis lotus great plenty, and therein is spear-reed and wheat and rye, and whiteand spreading barley. In Ithaca there are no wide courses, nor meadow land atall. It is a pasture-land of goats, and more pleasant in my sight than one thatpastureth horses; for of the isles that lie and lean upon the sea, none are fitfor the driving of horses, or rich in meadow land, and least of all isIthaca.”

So spake he, and Menelaus, of the loud war cry, smiled, and caressed him withhis hand, and spake and hailed him:

“Thou art of gentle blood, dear child, so gentle the words thou speakest.Therefore I will make exchange of the presents, as I may. Of the gifts, such asare treasures stored in my house, I will give thee the goodliest and greatestof price. I will give thee a mixing bowl beautifully wrought; it is all ofsilver, and the lips thereof are finished with gold, the work of Hephaestus;and the hero Phaedimus, the king of the Sidonians, gave it me, when his housesheltered me on my coming thither, and to thee now would I give it.”

Even so they spake one to another, while the guests came to the palace of thedivine king. They drave their sheep, and brought wine that maketh glad theheart of man: and their wives with fair tire sent them wheaten bread. Thus werethese men preparing the feast in the halls.

But the wooers meantime were before the palace of Odysseus, taking theirpleasure in casting of weights and spears, on a levelled place, as heretofore,in their insolence. And Antinous and god-like Eurymachus were seated there, thechief men of the wooers, who were far the most excellent of all. And Noëmon,son of Phromius, drew nigh to them and spake unto Antinous and questioned him,saying:

“Antinous, know we at all, or know we not, when Telemachus will returnfrom sandy Pylos? He hath departed with a ship of mine, and I have needthereof, to cross over into spacious Elis, where I have twelve brood mares withhardy mules unbroken at the teat; I would drive off one of these and break himin.”

So spake he, and they were amazed, for they deemed not that Telemachus had goneto Neleian Pylos, but that he was at home somewhere in the fields, whetheramong the flocks, or with the swineherd.

Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spake to him in turn: “Tell me the plaintruth; when did he go, and what noble youths went with him? Were they chosenmen of Ithaca or hirelings and thralls of his own? He was in case to bring eventhat about. And tell me this in good sooth, that I may know for a surety: didhe take thy black ship from thee perforce against thy will? or didst thou giveit him of free will at his entreaty?

Then Noëmon, son of Phromius, answered him saying: “I gave it him myselfof free will. What can any man do, when such an one, so bestead with care, begsa favour? it were hard to deny the gift. The youths who next to us are noblestin the land, even these have gone with him; and I marked their leader on boardship, Mentor, or a god who in all things resembled Mentor. But one matter Imarvel at: I saw the goodly Mentor here yesterday toward dawn, though alreadyhe had embarked for Pylos.”

He spake and withal departed to his father’s house. And the proud spiritsof these twain were angered, and they made the wooers sit down together andcease from their games. And among them spake Antinous, son of Eupeithes, indispleasure; and his black heart was wholly filled with rage, and his eyes werelike flaming fire:

“Out on him, a proud deed hath Telemachus accomplished with a high hand,even this journey, and we thought that he would never bring it to pass! Thislad hath clean gone without more ado, in spite of us all; his ship he hath lethaul to the sea, and chosen the noblest in the township. He will begin to beour bane even more than heretofore; but may Zeus destroy his might, not ours,ere he reach the measure of manhood! But come, give me a swift ship and twentymen, that I may lie in watch and wait even for him on his way home, in thestrait between Ithaca and rugged Samos, that so he may have a woeful end of hiscruising in quest of his father.”

So spake he, and they all assented thereto, and bade him to the work. Andthereupon they arose and went to the house of Odysseus.

Now it was no long time before Penelope heard of the counsel that the wooershad devised in the deep of their heart. For the henchman Medon told herthereof, who stood without the court and heard their purposes, while they wereweaving their plot within. So he went on his way through the halls to bring thenews to Penelope; and as he stept down over the threshold, Penelope spake untohim:

“Henchman, wherefore have the noble wooers sent thee forth? Was it totell the handmaids of divine Odysseus to cease from their work, and prepare abanquet for them? Nay, after thus much wooing, never again may they cometogether, but here this day sup for their last and latest time; all ye whoassemble so often, and waste much livelihood, the wealth of wise Telemachus!Long ago when ye were children, ye marked not your fathers’ telling, whatmanner of man was Odysseus among them, one that wrought no iniquity toward anyman, nor spake aught unrighteous in the township, as is the wont of divinekings. One man a king is like to hate, another he might chance to love. Butnever did he do aught at all presumptuously to any man. Nay, it is plain whatspirit ye are of, and your unseemly deeds are manifest to all, nor is there anygratitude left for kindness done.”

Then Medon, wise of heart, answered her: “Would, oh queen, that this werethe crowning evil! But the wooers devise another far greater and more grievous,which I pray the son of Cronos may never fulfil! They are set on slayingTelemachus with the edge of the sword on his homeward way; for he is gone tofair Pylos and goodly Lacedaemon, to seek tidings of his father.”

So spake he, but her knees were loosened where she stood, and her heart meltedwithin her, and long time was she speechless, and lo, her eyes were filled withtears and the voice of her utterance was stayed. And at the last she answeredhim and said:

“Henchman, wherefore I pray thee is my son departed? There is no needthat he should go abroad on swift ships, that serve men for horses on the sea,and that cross the great wet waste. Is it that even his own name may no more beleft upon earth?”

Then Medon, wise of heart, answered her: “I know not whether some god sethim on or whether his own spirit stirred him to go to Pylos to seek tidings ofhis father’s return, or to hear what end he met.”

He spake, and departed through the house of Odysseus, and on her fell a cloudof consuming grief; so that she might no more endure to seat her on a chair,whereof there were many in the house, but there she crouched on the thresholdof her well-builded chamber, wailing piteously, and her handmaids round hermade low moan, as many as were in the house with her, young and old. AndPenelope spake among them pouring forth her lamentation:

“Hear me, my friends, for the Olympian sire hath given me painexceedingly beyond all women who were born and bred in my day. For erewhile Ilost my noble lord of the lion heart, adorned with all perfection among theDanaans, my good lord, whose fame is noised abroad from Hellas to mid Argos.And now again the storm-winds have snatched away my well-beloved son withouttidings from our halls, nor heard I of his departure. Oh, women, hard of heart,that even ye did not each one let the thought come into your minds, to rouse mefrom my couch when he went to the black hollow ship, though ye knew full wellthereof! For had I heard that he was purposing this journey, verily he shouldhave stayed here still, though eager to be gone, or have left me dead in thehalls. Howbeit let some one make haste to call the ancient Dolius, my thrall,whom my father gave me ere yet I had come hither, who keepeth my garden oftrees. So shall he go straightway and sit by Laertes, and tell him all, ifperchance Laertes may weave some counsel in his heart, and go forth and makehis plaint to the people, who are purposed to destroy his seed, and the seed ofgod-like Odysseus.”

Then the good nurse Eurycleia answered her: “Dear lady, aye, slay me ifthou wilt with the pitiless sword or let me yet live on in the house,—yetwill I not hide my saying from thee. I knew all this, and gave him whatsoeverhe commanded, bread and sweet wine. And he took a great oath of me not to tellthee till at least the twelfth day should come, or thou thyself shouldst misshim and hear of his departure, that thou mightest not mar thy fair flesh withthy tears. But now, wash thee in water, and take to thee clean raiment andascend to thy upper chamber with the women thy handmaids, and pray to Athene,daughter of Zeus, lord of the aegis. For so may she save him even from death.And heap not troubles on an old man’s trouble; for the seed of the son ofArceisius, is not, methinks, utterly hated by the blessed gods, but someonewill haply yet remain to possess these lofty halls, and the fat fields faraway.”

So spake she, and lulled her queen’s lamentation, and made her eyes tocease from weeping. So she washed her in water, and took to her clean raiment,and ascended to the upper chamber with the women her handmaids, and placed themeal for sprinkling in a basket, and prayed unto Athene:

“Hear me, child of Zeus, lord of the aegis, unwearied maiden! If everwise Odysseus in his halls burnt for thee fat slices of the thighs of heifer orof sheep, these things, I pray thee, now remember, and save my dear son, andward from him the wooers in the naughtiness of their pride.”

Therewith she raised a cry, and the goddess heard her prayer. But the wooersclamoured through the shadowy halls, and thus would some proud youth say:

“Verily this queen of many wooers prepareth our marriage, nor knoweth atall how that for her son death hath been ordained.”

Thus would certain of them speak, but they knew not how these things wereordained. And Antinous made harangue and spake among them:

“Good sirs, my friends, shun all disdainful words alike, lest someonehear and tell it even in the house. But come let us arise, and in silenceaccomplish that whereof we spake, for the counsel pleased us every one.”

Therewith he chose twenty men that were the best, and they departed to theswift ship and the sea-banks. So first of all they drew the ship down to thedeep water, and placed the mast and sails in the black ship, and fixed the oarsin leathern loops all orderly, and spread forth the white sails. And squires,haughty of heart, bare for them their arms. And they moored her high out in theshore water, and themselves disembarked. There they supped and waited forevening to come on.

But the wise Penelope lay there in her upper chamber, fasting and tastingneither meat nor drink, musing whether her noble son should escape death, oreven fall before the proud wooers. And as a lion broods all in fear among thepress of men, when they draw the crafty ring around him, so deeply was shemusing when deep sleep came over her. And she sank back in sleep and all herjoints were loosened.

Now the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, turned to other thoughts. She made aphantom, and fashioned it after the likeness of a woman, Iphthime, daughter ofgreat-hearted Icarius, whom Eumelus wedded, whose dwelling was in Pherae. Andshe sent it to the house of divine Odysseus to bid Penelope, amid her sorrowand lamenting, to cease from her weeping and tearful lamentation. So thephantom passed into the chamber by the thong of the bolt, and stood above herhead and spake unto her, saying:

“Sleepest thou, Penelope, stricken at heart? Nay, even the gods who liveat ease suffer thee not to wail or be afflicted, seeing that thy son is yet toreturn; for no sinner is he in the eyes of the gods.”

Then wise Penelope made her answer as she slumbered very softly at the gates ofdreams:

“Wherefore, sister, hast thou come hither, that before wert not wont tocome, for thou hast thine habitation very far away? Biddest thou me indeed tocease from the sorrows and pains, so many that disquiet my heart and soul?Erewhile I lost my noble lord of the lion heart, adorned with all perfectionamong the Danaans, my true lord, whose fame is noised abroad from Hellas to midArgos. And now, again, my well-beloved son is departed on his hollow ship, poorchild, not skilled in toils or in the gatherings of men. For him I sorrow yetmore than for my lord, and I tremble and fear for him lest aught befal him,whether, it may be, amid that folk where he is gone, or in the deep. For manyfoemen devise evil against him, and go about to kill him, or ever he come tohis own country.”

And the dim phantom answered her, and said: “Take courage, and be not sosorely afraid. For lo, such a friend goes to guide him, as all men pray tostand by them, for that she hath the power, even Pallas Athene. And she pitieththee in thy sorrow, and now hath sent me forth to speak these words tothee.”

And wise Penelope answered her, saying: “If thou art indeed a god, andhast heard the word of a god, come, I pray thee, and tell me tidings concerningthat ill-fated man, whether perchance he is yet alive and sees the light of thesun, or hath already died, and is a dweller in the house of Hades.”

And the dim phantom answered her and said: “Concerning him I will nottell thee all the tale, whether he be alive or dead; it is ill to speak wordslight as wind.”

Therewith the phantom slipped away by the bolt of the door and passed into thebreath of the wind. And the daughter of Icarius started up from sleep; and herheart was cheered, so clear was the vision that sped toward her in the dead ofthe night.

Meanwhile the wooers had taken ship and were sailing over the wet ways,pondering in their hearts sheer death for Telemachus. Now there is a rocky islein the mid sea, midway between Ithaca and rugged Samos, Asteris, a little isle;and there is a harbour therein with a double entrance, where ships may ride.There the Achaeans abode lying in wait for Telemachus.

BOOK V.

The Gods in council command Calypso by Hermes to send away Odysseus on a raftof trees; and Poseidon, returning from Ethiopia and seeing him on the coast ofPhaeacia, scattered his raft; and how by the help of Ino he was thrown ashore,and slept on a heap of dry leaves till the next day.

Now the Dawn arose from her couch, from the side of the lordly Tithonus, tobear light to the immortals and to mortal men. And lo, the gods were gatheringto session, and among them Zeus, that thunders on high, whose might is aboveall. And Athene told them the tale of the many woes of Odysseus, recalling themto mind; for near her heart was he that then abode in the dwelling of thenymph:

“Father Zeus, and all ye other blessed gods that live for ever,henceforth let not any sceptred king be kind and gentle with all his heart, norminded to do righteously, but let him alway be a hard man and workunrighteousness, for behold, there is none that remembereth divine Odysseus ofthe people whose lord he was, and was gentle as a father. Howbeit, as for himhe lieth in an island suffering strong pains, in the halls of the nymphCalypso, who holdeth him perforce; so he may not reach his own country, for hehath no ships by him with oars, and no companions to send him on his way overthe broad back of the sea. And now, again, they are set on slaying his belovedson on his homeward way, for he is gone to fair Pylos and to goodly Lacedaemon,to seek tidings of his father.”

And Zeus, gatherer of the clouds, answered and spake unto her: “My child,what word hath escaped the door of thy lips? Nay, didst thou not thyself planthis device, that Odysseus may assuredly take vengeance on those men at hiscoming? As for Telemachus, do thou guide him by thine art, as well as thoumayest, that so he may come to his own country all unharmed, and the wooers mayreturn in their ship with their labour all in vain.”

Therewith he spake to Hermes, his dear son: “Hermes, forasmuch as even inall else thou art our herald, tell unto the nymph of the braided tresses myunerring counsel, even the return of the patient Odysseus, how he is to come tohis home, with no furtherance of gods or of mortal men. Nay, he shall sail on awell-bound raft, in sore distress, and on the twentieth day arrive at fertileScheria, even at the land of the Phaeacians, who are near of kin to the gods.And they shall give him all worship heartily as to a god, and send him on hisway in a ship to his own dear country, with gifts of bronze and gold, andraiment in plenty, much store, such as never would Odysseus have won forhimself out of Troy, yea, though he had returned unhurt with the share of thespoil that fell to him. On such wise is he fated to see his friends, and cometo his high-roofed home and his own country.”

So spake he, nor heedless was the messenger, the slayer of Argos. Straightwayhe bound beneath his feet his lovely golden sandals, that wax not old, thatbare him alike over the wet sea and over the limitless land, swift as thebreath of the wind. And he took the wand wherewith he lulls the eyes of whomsohe will, while others again he even wakes from out of sleep. With this rod inhis hand flew the strong slayer of Argos. Above Pieria he passed and leapt fromthe upper air into the deep. Then he sped along the wave like the cormorant,that chaseth the fishes through the perilous gulfs of the unharvested sea, andwetteth his thick plumage in the brine. Such like did Hermes ride upon thepress of the waves. But when he had now reached that far-off isle, he wentforth from the sea of violet blue to get him up into the land, till he came toa great cave, wherein dwelt the nymph of the braided tresses: and he found herwithin. And on the hearth there was a great fire burning, and from afar throughthe isle was smelt the fragrance of cleft cedar blazing, and of sandal wood.And the nymph within was singing with a sweet voice as she fared to and frobefore the loom, and wove with a shuttle of gold. And round about the cavethere was a wood blossoming, alder and poplar and sweet-smelling cypress. Andtherein roosted birds long of wing, owls and falcons and chattering sea-crows,which have their business in the waters. And lo, there about the hollow cavetrailed a gadding garden vine, all rich with clusters. And fountains four setorderly were running with clear water, hard by one another, turned each to hisown course. And all around soft meadows bloomed of violets and parsley, yea,even a deathless god who came thither might wonder at the sight and be glad atheart. There the messenger, the slayer of Argos, stood and wondered. Now whenhe had gazed at all with wonder, anon he went into the wide cave; nor didCalypso, that fair goddess, fail to know him, when she saw him face to face;for the gods use not to be strange one to another, the immortals, not thoughone have his habitation far away. But he found not Odysseus, the greathearted,within the cave, who sat weeping on the shore even as aforetime, straining hissoul with tears and groans and griefs, and as he wept he looked wistfully overthe unharvested deep. And Calypso, that fair goddess, questioned Hermes, whenshe had made him sit on a bright shining seat:

“Wherefore, I pray thee, Hermes, of the golden wand, hast thou comehither, worshipful and welcome, whereas as of old thou wert not wont to visitme? Tell me all thy thought; my heart is set on fulfilling it, if fulfil it Imay, and if it hath been fulfilled in the counsel of fate. But now follow mefurther, that I may set before thee the entertainment of strangers.”

Therewith the goddess spread a table with ambrosia and set it by him, and mixedthe ruddy nectar. So the messenger, the slayer of Argos, did eat and drink. Nowafter he had supped and comforted his soul with food, at the last he answered,and spake to her on this wise:

“Thou makest question of me on my coming, a goddess of a god, and I willtell thee this my saying truly, at thy command. ’Twas Zeus that bade mecome hither, by no will of mine; nay, who of his free will would speed oversuch a wondrous space of brine, whereby is no city of mortals that do sacrificeto the gods, and offer choice hecatombs? But surely it is in no wise possiblefor another god to go beyond or to make void the purpose of Zeus, lord of theaegis. He saith that thou hast with thee a man most wretched beyond hisfellows, beyond those men that round the burg of Priam for nine years fought,and in the tenth year sacked the city and departed homeward. Yet on the waythey sinned against Athene, and she raised upon them an evil blast and longwaves of the sea. Then all the rest of his good company was lost, but it cameto pass that the wind bare and the wave brought him hither. And now Zeusbiddeth thee send him hence with what speed thou mayest, for it is not ordainedthat he die away from his friends, but rather it is his fate to look on themeven yet, and to come to his high-roofed home and his own country.”

So spake he, and Calypso, that fair goddess, shuddered and uttered her voice,and spake unto him winged words: “Hard are ye gods and jealous exceeding,who ever grudge goddesses openly to mate with men, if any make a mortal herdear bed-fellow. Even so when rosy-fingered Dawn took Orion for her lover, yegods that live at ease were jealous thereof, till chaste Artemis, of the goldenthrone, slew him in Ortygia with the visitation of her gentle shafts. So toowhen fair-tressed Demeter yielded to her love, and lay with Iasion in thethrice-ploughed fallow-field, Zeus was not long without tidings thereof, andcast at him with his white bolt and slew him. So again ye gods now grudge thata mortal man should dwell with me. Him I saved as he went all alone bestridingthe keel of a bark, for that Zeus had crushed[11] and cleft his swift shipwith a white bolt in the midst of the wine-dark deep. There all the rest of hisgood company was lost, but it came to pass that the wind bare and the wavebrought him hither. And him have I loved and cherished, and I said that I wouldmake him to know not death and age for ever. Yet forasmuch as it is no wisepossible for another god to go beyond, or make void the purpose of Zeus, lordof the aegis, let him away over the unharvested seas, if the summons and thebidding be of Zeus. But I will give him no despatch, not I, for I have no shipsby me with oars, nor company to bear him on his way over the broad back of thesea. Yet will I be forward to put this in his mind, and will hide nought, thatall unharmed he may come to his own country.”

[11]It seems very doubtful whether ἔλσας can bear thismeaning. The reading ἐλάσας,“smote,” preserved by the Schol. is highly probable.

Then the messenger, the slayer of Argos, answered her: “Yea, speed himnow upon his path and have regard unto the wrath of Zeus, lest haply he beangered and bear hard on thee hereafter.”

Therewith the great slayer of Argos departed, but the lady nymph went on herway to the great-hearted Odysseus, when she had heard the message of Zeus. Andthere she found him sitting on the shore, and his eyes were never dry of tears,and his sweet life was ebbing away as he mourned for his return; for the nymphno more found favour in his sight. Howsoever by night he would sleep by her, asneeds he must, in the hollow caves, unwilling lover by a willing lady. And inthe day-time he would sit on the rocks and on the beach, straining his soulwith tears, and groans, and griefs, and through his tears he would lookwistfully over the unharvested deep. So standing near him that fair goddessspake to him:

“Hapless man, sorrow no more I pray thee in this isle, nor let thy goodlife waste away, for even now will I send thee hence with all my heart. Nay,arise and cut long beams, and fashion a wide raft with the axe, and laydeckings high thereupon, that it may bear thee over the misty deep. And I willplace therein bread and water, and red wine to thy heart’s desire, tokeep hunger far away. And I will put raiment upon thee, and send a fair gale inthy wake, that so thou mayest come all unharmed to thine own country, if indeedit be the good pleasure of the gods who hold wide heaven, who are stronger thanI am both to will and to do.”

So she spake, and the steadfast goodly Odysseus shuddered, and uttering hisvoice spake to her winged words: “Herein, goddess, thou hast plainly someother thought, and in no wise my furtherance, for that thou biddest me to crossin a raft the great gulf of the sea so dread and difficult, which not even theswift gallant ships pass over rejoicing in the breeze of Zeus. Nor would I goaboard a raft to displeasure thee, unless thou wilt deign, O goddess, to sweara great oath not to plan any hidden guile to mine own hurt.”

So spake he, and Calypso, the fair goddess, smiled and caressed him with herhand, and spake and hailed him:

“Knavish thou art, and no weakling[12] in wit, thou that hastconceived and spoken such a word. Let earth be now witness hereto, and the wideheaven above, and that falling water of the Styx, the greatest oath and themost terrible to the blessed gods, that I will not plan any hidden guile tothine own hurt. Nay, but my thoughts are such, and such will be my counsel, asI would devise for myself, if ever so sore a need came over me. For I too havea righteous mind, and my heart within me is not of iron, but pitiful even asthine.”

[12]ἀποφώλιος, from rootφυ, “ill-grown,” i. e. a weakling, in the literal senseas B. xi. 249, xiv. 212, or metaphorical, as here and viii. 177.

Therewith the fair goddess led the way quickly, and he followed hard in thesteps of the goddess. And they reached the hollow cave, the goddess and theman; so he sat him down upon the chair whence Hermes had arisen, and the nymphplaced by him all manner of food to eat and drink, such as is meat for men. Asfor her she sat over against divine Odysseus, and the handmaids placed by herambrosia and nectar. So they put forth their hands upon the good cheer setbefore them. But after they had taken their fill of meat and drink, Calypso,the fair goddess, spake first and said:

“Son of Laertes, of the seed of Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, so it isindeed thy wish to get thee home to thine own dear country even in this hour?Good fortune go with thee even so! Yet didst thou know in thine heart what ameasure of suffering thou art ordained to fulfil, or ever thou reach thine owncountry, here, even here, thou wouldst abide with me and keep this house, andwouldst never taste of death, though thou longest to see thy wife, for whomthou hast ever a desire day by day. Not in sooth that I avow me to be lessnoble than she in form or fashion, for it is in no wise meet that mortal womenshould match them with immortals, in shape and comeliness.”

And Odysseus of many counsels answered, and spake unto her: “Be not wrothwith me hereat, goddess and queen. Myself I know it well, how wise Penelope ismeaner to look upon than thou, in comeliness and stature. But she is mortal andthou knowest not age nor death. Yet even so, I wish and long day by day to farehomeward and see the day of my returning. Yea, and if some god shall wreck mein the wine-dark deep, even so I will endure, with a heart within me patient ofaffliction. For already have I suffered full much, and much have I toiled inperils of waves and war; let this be added to the tale of those.”

So spake he, and the sun sank and darkness came on. Then they twain went intothe chamber of the hollow rock, and had their delight of love, abiding each byother.

So soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, anon Odysseus put on hima mantle and doublet, and the nymph clad her in a great shining robe, light ofwoof and gracious, and about her waist she cast a fair golden girdle, and aveil withal upon her head. Then she considered of the sending of Odysseus, thegreat-hearted. She gave him a great axe, fitted to his grasp, an axe of bronzedouble-edged, and with a goodly handle of olive wood fastened well. Next shegave him a polished adze, and she led the way to the border of the isle wheretall trees grew, alder and poplar, and pine that reacheth unto heaven, seasonedlong since and sere, that might lightly float for him. Now after she had shownhim where the tall trees grew, Calypso, the fair goddess, departed homeward.And he set to cutting timber, and his work went busily. Twenty trees in all hefelled, and then trimmed them with the axe of bronze, and deftly smoothed them,and over them made straight the line. Meanwhile Calypso, the fair goddess,brought him augers, so he bored each piece and jointed them together, and thenmade all fast with trenails and dowels. Wide as is the floor of a broad ship ofburden, which some man well skilled in carpentry may trace him out, of suchbeam did Odysseus fashion his broad raft. And thereat he wrought, and set upthe deckings, fitting them to the close-set uprights, and finished them offwith long gunwales, and there he set a mast, and a yard-arm fitted thereto, andmoreover he made him a rudder to guide the craft. And he fenced it with wattledosier withies from stem to stern, to be a bulwark against the wave, and piledup wood to back them. Meanwhile Calypso, the fair goddess, brought him web ofcloth to make him sails; and these too he fashioned very skilfully. And he madefast therein braces and halyards and sheets, and at last he pushed the raftwith levers down to the fair salt sea.

It was the fourth day when he had accomplished all. And, lo, on the fifth, thefair Calypso sent him on his way from the island, when she had bathed him andclad him in fragrant attire. Moreover, the goddess placed on board the ship twoskins, one of dark wine, and another, a great one, of water, and corn too in awallet, and she set therein a store of dainties to his heart’s desire,and sent forth a warm and gentle wind to blow. And goodly Odysseus rejoiced ashe set his sails to the breeze. So he sate and cunningly guided the craft withthe helm, nor did sleep fall upon his eyelids, as he viewed the Pleiads andBootes, that setteth late, and the Bear, which they likewise call the Wain,which turneth ever in one place, and keepeth watch upon Orion, and alone hathno part in the baths of Ocean. This star, Calypso, the fair goddess, bade himto keep ever on the left as he traversed the deep. Ten days and seven he sailedtraversing the deep, and on the eighteenth day appeared the shadowy hills ofthe land of the Phaeacians, at the point where it lay nearest to him; and itshowed like a shield in the misty deep.

Now the lord, the shaker of the earth, on his way from the Ethiopians espiedhim afar off from the mountains of the Solymi: even thence he saw Odysseus ashe sailed over the deep; and he was mightily angered in spirit, and shaking hishead he communed with his own heart. “Lo now, it must be that the gods atthe last have changed their purpose concerning Odysseus, while I was away amongthe Ethiopians. And now he is nigh to the Phaeacian land, where it is ordainedthat he escape the great issues of the woe which hath come upon him. But,methinks, that even yet I will drive him far enough in the path ofsuffering.”

With that he gathered the clouds and troubled the waters of the deep, graspinghis trident in his hands; and he roused all storms of all manner of winds, andshrouded in clouds the land and sea: and down sped night from heaven. The EastWind and the South Wind clashed, and the stormy West, and the North, that isborn in the bright air, rolling onward a great wave. Then were the knees ofOdysseus loosened and his heart melted, and heavily he spake to his own greatspirit:

“Oh, wretched man that I am! what is to befal me at the last? I fear thatindeed the goddess spake all things truly, who said that I should fill up themeasure of sorrow on the deep, or ever I came to mine own country; and lo, allthese things have an end. In such wise doth Zeus crown the wide heaven withclouds, and hath troubled the deep, and the blasts rush on of all the winds;yea, now is utter doom assured me. Thrice blessed those Danaans, yea, fourtimes blessed, who perished on a time in wide Troy-land, doing a pleasure tothe sons of Atreus! Would to God that I too had died, and met my fate on thatday when the press of Trojans cast their bronze-shod spears upon me, fightingfor the body of the son of Peleus! So should I have gotten my dues of burial,and the Achaeans would have spread my fame; but now it is my fate to beovertaken by a pitiful death.”

Even as he spake, the great wave smote down upon him, driving on in terriblewise, that the raft reeled again. And far therefrom he fell, and lost the helmfrom his hand; and the fierce blast of the jostling winds came and brake hismast in the midst, and sail and yard-arm fell afar into the deep. Long time thewater kept him under, nor could he speedily rise from beneath the rush of themighty wave: for the garments hung heavy which fair Calypso gave him. But lateand at length he came up, and spat forth from his mouth the bitter salt water,which ran down in streams from his head. Yet even so forgat he not his raft,for all his wretched plight, but made a spring after it in the waves, andclutched it to him, and sat in the midst thereof, avoiding the issues of death;and the great wave swept it hither and thither along the stream. And as theNorth Wind in the harvest tide sweeps the thistle-down along the plain, andclose the tufts cling each to other, even so the winds bare the raft hither andthither along the main. Now the South would toss it to the North to carry, andnow again the East would yield it to the West to chase.

But the daughter of Cadmus marked him, Ino of the fair ankles, Leucothea, whoin time past was a maiden of mortal speech, but now in the depths of the saltsea she had gotten her share of worship from the gods. She took pity onOdysseus in his wandering and travail, and she rose, like a sea-gull on thewing, from the depth of the mere, and sat upon the well-bound raft and spakesaying:

“Hapless one, wherefore was Poseidon, shaker of the earth, so wondrouswroth with thee, seeing that he soweth for thee the seeds of many evils? Yetshall he not make a full end of thee, for all his desire. But do even as I tellthee, and methinks thou art not witless. Cast off these garments, and leave theraft to drift before the winds, but do thou swim with thine hands and strive towin a footing on the coast[13] of the Phaeacians, where it is decreed that thouescape. Here, take this veil imperishable and wind it about thy breast; so isthere no fear that thou suffer aught or perish. But when thou hast laid hold ofthe mainland with thy hands, loose it from off thee and cast it into thewine-dark deep far from the land, and thyself turn away.”

[13]Lit. Strive after an arrival on the land, etc.νόστος originally meant going,journeying, and had no idea of return. The earlier use surviveshere, and in Soph. Philoct. 43, Eur. Iph. Aul. 1261. Similarly, perhaps,νοστεῖν in Odyssey iv. 619, xv. 119, andνέεσθαι frequently.

With that the goddess gave the veil, and for her part dived back into theheaving deep, like a sea-gull: and the dark wave closed over her. But thesteadfast goodly Odysseus pondered, and heavily he spake to his own bravespirit:

“Ah, woe is me! Can it be that some one of the immortals is weaving a newsnare for me, that she bids me quit my raft? Nay verily, I will not yet obey,for I had sight of the shore yet a long way off, where she told me that I mightescape. I am resolved what I will do;—and methinks on this wise it isbest. So long as the timbers abide in the dowels, so long will I enduresteadfast in affliction, but so soon as the wave hath shattered my raftasunder, I will swim, for meanwhile no better counsel may be.”

While yet he pondered these things in his heart and soul, Poseidon, shaker ofthe earth, stirred against him a great wave, terrible and grievous, and vaultedfrom the crest, and therewith smote him. And as when a great tempestuous windtosseth a heap of parched husks, and scatters them this way and that, even sodid the wave scatter the long beams of the raft. But Odysseus bestrode a singlebeam, as one rideth on a courser, and stript him of the garments which fairCalypso gave him. And presently he wound the veil beneath his breast, and fellprone into the sea, outstretching his hands as one eager to swim. And the lord,the shaker of the earth, saw him and shook his head, and communed with his ownsoul. “Even so, after all thy sufferings, go wandering over the deep,till thou shalt come among a people, the fosterlings of Zeus. Yet for all thatI deem not that thou shalt think thyself too lightly afflicted.”Therewith he lashed his steeds of the flowing manes, and came to Aegae, whereis his lordly home.

But Athene, daughter of Zeus, turned to new thoughts. Behold, she bound up thecourses of the other winds, and charged them all to cease and be still; but sheroused the swift North and brake the waves before him, that so Odysseus, of theseed of Zeus, might mingle with the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar, avoidingdeath and the fates.

So for two nights and two days he was wandering in the swell of the sea, andmuch his heart boded of death. But when at last the fair-tressed Dawn broughtthe full light of the third day, thereafter the breeze fell, and lo, there wasa breathless calm, and with a quick glance ahead, (he being upborne on a greatwave,) he saw the land very near. And even as when most welcome to his childrenis the sight of a father’s life, who lies in sickness and strong painslong wasting away, some angry god assailing him; and to their delight the godshave loosed him from his trouble; so welcome to Odysseus showed land and wood;and he swam onward being eager to set foot on the strand. But when he waswithin earshot of the shore, and heard now the thunder of the sea against thereefs—for the great wave crashed against the dry land belching interrible wise, and all was covered with foam of the sea,—for there wereno harbours for ships nor shelters, but jutting headlands and reefs and cliffs;then at last the knees of Odysseus were loosened and his heart melted, and inheaviness he spake to his own brave spirit:

“Ah me! now that beyond all hope Zeus hath given me sight of land, andwithal I have cloven my way through this gulf of the sea, here there is noplace to land on from out of the grey water. For without are sharp crags, andround them the wave roars surging, and sheer the smooth rock rises, and the seais deep thereby, so that in no wise may I find firm foothold and escape mybane, for as I fain would go ashore, the great wave may haply snatch and dashme on the jagged rock—and a wretched endeavour that would be. But if Iswim yet further along the coast to find, if I may, spits that take the wavesaslant and havens of the sea, I fear lest the storm-winds catch me again andbear me over the teeming deep, making heavy moan; or else some god may evensend forth against me a monster from out of the shore water; and many suchpastureth the renowned Amphitrite. For I know how wroth against me hath beenthe great Shaker of the Earth.”

Whilst yet he pondered these things in his heart and mind, a great wave borehim to the rugged shore. There would he have been stript of his skin and allhis bones been broken, but that the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, put a thoughtinto his heart. He rushed in, and with both his hands clutched the rock,whereto he clung till the great wave went by. So he escaped that peril, butagain with backward wash it leapt on him and smote him and cast him forth intothe deep. And as when the cuttlefish is dragged forth from his chamber, themany pebbles clinging to his suckers, even so was the skin stript from hisstrong hand against the rocks, and the great wave closed over him. There of atruth would luckless Odysseus have perished beyond that which was ordained, hadnot grey-eyed Athene given him sure counsel. He rose from the line of thebreakers that belch upon the shore, and swam outside, ever looking landwards,to find, if he might, spits that take the waves aslant, and havens of the sea.But when he came in his swimming over against the mouth of a fair-flowingriver, whereby the place seemed best in his eyes, smooth of rocks, and withalthere was a covert from the wind, Odysseus felt the river running, and prayedto him in his heart:

“Hear me, O king, whosoever thou art; unto thee am I come, as to one towhom prayer is made, while I flee the rebukes of Poseidon from the deep. Yea,reverend even to the deathless gods is that man who comes as a wanderer, evenas I now have come to thy stream and to thy knees after much travail. Nay pityme, O king; for I avow myself thy suppliant.”

So spake he, and the god straightway stayed his stream and withheld his waves,and made the water smooth before him, and brought him safely to the mouths ofthe river. And his knees bowed and his stout hands fell, for his heart wasbroken by the brine. And his flesh was all swollen and a great stream of seawater gushed up through his mouth and nostrils. So he lay without breath orspeech, swooning, such terrible weariness came upon him. But when now hisbreath returned and his spirit came to him again, he loosed from off him theveil of the goddess, and let it fall into the salt flowing river. And the greatwave bare it back down the stream, and lightly Ino caught it in her hands. ThenOdysseus turned from the river, and fell back in the reeds, and kissed earth,the grain-giver, and heavily he spake unto his own brave spirit:

“Ah, woe is me! What is to betide me? What shall happen unto me at thelast? If I watch the river bed all through the careful night, I fear that thebitter frost and fresh dew may overcome me, as I breathe forth my life forfaintness, for the river breeze blows cold betimes in the morning. But if Iclimb the hill-side up to the shady wood, and there take rest in the thickets,though perchance the cold and weariness leave hold of me, and sweet sleep maycome over me, I fear lest of wild beasts I become the spoil and prey.”

So as he thought thereon this seemed to him the better way. He went up to thewood, and found it nigh the water in a place of wide prospect. So he creptbeneath twin bushes that grew from one stem, both olive trees, one of them wildolive. Through these the force of the wet winds blew never, neither did thebright sun light on it with his rays, nor could the rain pierce through, soclose were they twined either to other; and thereunder crept Odysseus and anonhe heaped together with his hands a broad couch; for of fallen leaves there wasgreat plenty, enough to cover two or three men in winter time, however hard theweather. And the steadfast goodly Odysseus beheld it and rejoiced, and he laidhim in the midst thereof and flung over him the fallen leaves. And as when aman hath hidden away a brand in the black embers at an upland farm, one thathath no neighbours nigh, and so saveth the seed of fire, that he may not haveto seek a light otherwhere, even so did Odysseus cover him with the leaves. AndAthene shed sleep upon his eyes, that so it might soon release him from hisweary travail, overshadowing his eyelids.

BOOK VI.

Nausicaa, going to a river near that place to wash the clothes of her father,mother, and brethren, while the clothes were drying played with her maids atball; and Odysseus coming forth is fed and clothed, and led on his way to thehouse of her father, King Alcinous.

So there he lay asleep, the steadfast goodly Odysseus, fordone with toil anddrowsiness. Meanwhile Athene went to the land and the city of the Phaeacians,who of old, upon a time, dwelt in spacious Hypereia; near the Cyclôpes theydwelt, men exceeding proud, who harried them continually, being mightier thanthey. Thence the godlike Nausithous made them depart, and he carried them away,and planted them in Scheria, far off from men that live by bread. And he drew awall around the town, and builded houses and made temples for the gods andmeted out the fields. Howbeit ere this had he been stricken by fate, and hadgone down to the house of Hades, and now Alcinous was reigning, with wisdomgranted by the gods. To his house went the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, devisinga return for the great-hearted Odysseus. She betook her to the rich-wroughtbower, wherein was sleeping a maiden like to the gods in form and comeliness,Nausicaa, the daughter of Alcinous, high of heart. Beside her on either hand ofthe pillars of the door were two handmaids, dowered with beauty from theGraces, and the shining doors were shut.

But the goddess, fleet as the breath of the wind, swept towards the couch ofthe maiden, and stood above her head, and spake to her in the semblance of thedaughter of a famous seafarer, Dymas, a girl of like age with Nausicaa, who hadfound grace in her sight. In her shape the grey-eyed Athene spake to theprincess, saying:

“Nausicaa, how hath thy mother so heedless a maiden to her daughter? Lo,thou hast shining raiment that lies by thee uncared for, and thy marriage dayis near at hand, when thou thyself must needs go beautifully clad, and havegarments to give to them who shall lead thee to the house of the bridegroom!And, behold, these are the things whence a good report goes abroad among men,wherein a father and lady mother take delight. But come, let us arise and goa-washing with the breaking of the day, and I will follow with thee to be thymate in the toil, that without delay thou mayst get thee ready, since trulythou art not long to be a maiden. Lo, already they are wooing thee, the noblestyouths of all the Phaeacians, among that people whence thou thyself dost drawthy lineage. So come, beseech thy noble father betimes in the morning tofurnish thee with mules and a wain to carry the men’s raiment, and therobes, and the shining coverlets. Yea and for thyself it is seemlier far to gothus than on foot, for the places where we must wash are a great way off thetown.”

So spake the grey-eyed Athene, and departed to Olympus, where, as they say, isthe seat of the gods that standeth fast for ever. Not by winds is it shaken,nor ever wet with rain, nor doth the snow come nigh thereto, but most clear airis spread about it cloudless, and the white light floats over it. Therein theblessed gods are glad for all their days, and thither Athene went when she hadshown forth all to the maiden.

Anon came the throned Dawn, and awakened Nausicaa of the fair robes, whostraightway marvelled on the dream, and went through the halls to tell herparents, her father dear and her mother. And she found them within, her mothersitting by the hearth with the women her handmaids, spinning yarn of sea-purplestain, but her father she met as he was going forth to the renowned kings intheir council, whither the noble Phaeacians called him. Standing close by herdear father she spake, saying: “Father, dear, couldst thou not lend me ahigh waggon with strong wheels, that I may take the goodly raiment to the riverto wash, so much as I have lying soiled? Yea and it is seemly that thouthyself, when thou art with the princes in council, shouldest have freshraiment to wear. Also, there are five dear sons of thine in the halls, twomarried, but three are lusty bachelors, and these are always eager fornew-washen garments wherein to go to the dances; for all these things have Itaken thought.”

This she said, because she was ashamed to speak of glad marriage to her father;but he saw all and answered, saying:

“Neither the mules nor aught else do I grudge thee, my child. Go thyways, and the thralls shall get thee ready a high waggon with good wheels, andfitted with an upper frame.”

Therewith he called to his men, and they gave ear, and without the palace theymade ready the smooth-running mule-wain, and led the mules beneath the yoke,and harnessed them under the car, while the maiden brought forth from her bowerthe shining raiment. This she stored in the polished car, and her mother filleda basket with all manner of food to the heart’s desire, dainties too sheset therein, and she poured wine into a goat-skin bottle, while Nausicaaclimbed into the wain. And her mother gave her soft olive oil also in a goldencruse, that she and her maidens might anoint themselves after the bath. ThenNausicaa took the whip and the shining reins, and touched the mules to startthem; then there was a clatter of hoofs, and on they strained without flagging,with their load of the raiment and the maiden. Not alone did she go, for herattendants followed with her.

Now when they were come to the beautiful stream of the river, where truly werethe unfailing cisterns, and bright water welled up free from beneath, andflowed past, enough to wash the foulest garments clean, there the girlsunharnessed the mules from under the chariot, and turning them loose they drovethem along the banks of the eddying river to graze on the honey-sweet clover.Then they took the garments from the wain, in their hands, and bore them to theblack water, and briskly trod them down in the trenches, in busy rivalry. Nowwhen they had washed and cleansed all the stains, they spread all out in orderalong the shore of the deep, even where the sea, in beating on the coast,washed the pebbles clean. Then having bathed and anointed them well with oliveoil, they took their mid-day meal on the river’s banks, waiting till theclothes should dry in the brightness of the sun. Anon, when they were satisfiedwith food, the maidens and the princess, they fell to playing at ball, castingaway their tires, and among them Nausicaa of the white arms began the song. Andeven as Artemis, the archer, moveth down the mountain, either along the ridgesof lofty Taygetus or Erymanthus, taking her pastime in the chase of boars andswift deer, and with her the wild wood-nymphs disport them, the daughters ofZeus, lord of the aegis, and Leto is glad at heart, while high over all sherears her head and brows, and easily may she be known,—but all are fair;even so the girl unwed outshone her maiden company.

But when now she was about going homewards, after yoking the mules and foldingup the goodly raiment, then grey-eyed Athene turned to other thoughts, that soOdysseus might awake, and see the lovely maiden, who should be his guide to thecity of the Phaeacian men. So then the princess threw the ball at one of hercompany; she missed the girl, and cast the ball into the deep eddying current,whereat they all raised a piercing cry. Then the goodly Odysseus awoke and satup, pondering in his heart and spirit:

“Woe is me! to what men’s land am I come now? say, are theyfroward, and wild, and unjust, or are they hospitable, and of God-fearing mind?How shrill a cry of maidens rings round me, of the nymphs that hold the steephill-tops, and the river-springs, and the grassy water meadows! It must be,methinks, that I am near men of human speech. Go to, I myself will make trialand see.”

Therewith the goodly Odysseus crept out from under the coppice, having brokenwith his strong hand a leafy bough from the thick wood, to hold athwart hisbody, that it might hide his nakedness withal. And forth he sallied like a lionmountain-bred, trusting in his strength, who fares out blown and rained upon,with flaming eyes; amid the kine he goes or amid the sheep or in the track ofthe wild deer; yea, his belly bids him go even to the good homestead to makeassay upon the flocks. Even so Odysseus was fain to draw nigh to thefair-tressed maidens, all naked as he was, such need had come upon him. But hewas terrible in their eyes, being marred with the salt sea foam, and they fledcowering here and there about the jutting spits of shore. And the daughter ofAlcinous alone stood firm, for Athene gave her courage of heart, and took alltrembling from her limbs. So she halted and stood over against him, andOdysseus considered whether he should clasp the knees of the lovely maiden, andso make his prayer, or should stand as he was, apart, and beseech her withsmooth words, if haply she might show him the town, and give him raiment. Andas he thought within himself, it seemed better to stand apart, and beseech herwith smooth words, lest the maiden should be angered with him if he touched herknees: so straightway he spake a sweet and cunning word:

“I supplicate thee, O queen, whether thou art a goddess or a mortal! Ifindeed thou art a goddess of them that keep the wide heaven; to Artemis, then,the daughter of great Zeus, I mainly liken thee, for beauty and stature andshapeliness. But if thou art one of the daughters of men who dwell on earth,thrice blessed are thy father and thy lady mother, and thrice blessed thybrethren. Surely their souls ever glow with gladness for thy sake, each timethey see thee entering the dance, so fair a flower of maidens. But he is ofheart the most blessed beyond all other who shall prevail with gifts of wooing,and lead thee to his home. Never have mine eyes beheld such an one amongmortals, neither man nor woman; great awe comes upon me as I look on thee. Yetin Delos once I saw as goodly a thing: a young sapling of a palm tree springingby the altar of Apollo. For thither too I went, and much people with me, onthat path where my sore troubles were to be. Yea, and when I looked thereupon,long time I marvelled in spirit,—for never grew there yet so goodly ashoot from ground,—even in such wise as I wonder at thee, lady, and amastonied and do greatly fear to touch thy knees, though grievous sorrow is uponme. Yesterday, on the twentieth day, I escaped from the wine-dark deep, but allthat time continually the wave bare me, and the vehement winds drave, from theisle Ogygia. And now some god has cast me on this shore, that here too,methinks, some evil may betide me; for I trow not that trouble will cease; thegods ere that time will yet bring many a thing to pass. But, queen, have pityon me, for after many trials and sore to thee first of all am I come, and ofthe other folk, who hold this city and land, I know no man. Nay show me thetown, give me an old garment to cast about me, if thou hadst, when thou camesthere, any wrap for the linen. And may the gods grant thee all thy heart’sdesire: a husband and a home, and a mind at one with his may they give—agood gift, for there is nothing mightier and nobler than when man and wife areof one heart and mind in a house, a grief to their foes, and to their friendsgreat joy, but their own hearts know it best.”

Then Nausicaa of the white arms answered him, and said: “Stranger,forasmuch as thou seemest no evil man nor foolish—and it is Olympian Zeushimself that giveth weal to men, to the good and to the evil, to each one as hewill, and this thy lot doubtless is of him, and so thou must in anywise endureit:—and now, since thou hast come to our city and our land, thou shaltnot lack raiment, nor aught else that is the due of a hapless suppliant, whenhe has met them who can befriend him. And I will show thee the town, and namethe name of the people. The Phaeacians hold this city and land, and I am thedaughter of Alcinous, great of heart, on whom all the might and force of thePhaeacians depend.”

Thus she spake, and called to her maidens of the fair tresses: “Halt, mymaidens, whither flee ye at the sight of a man? Ye surely do not take him foran enemy? That mortal breathes not, and never will be born, who shall come withwar to the land of the Phaeacians, for they are very dear to the gods. Farapart we live in the wash of the waves, the outermost of men, and no othermortals are conversant with us. Nay, but this man is some helpless one comehither in his wanderings, whom now we must kindly entreat, for all strangersand beggars are from Zeus, and a little gift is dear. So, my maidens, give thestranger meat and drink, and bathe him in the river, where withal is a shelterfrom the winds.”

So she spake, but they had halted and called each to the other, and theybrought Odysseus to the sheltered place, and made him sit down, as Nausicaabade them, the daughter of Alcinous, high of heart. Beside him they laid amantle, and a doublet for raiment, and gave him soft olive oil in the goldencruse, and bade him wash in the streams of the river. Then goodly Odysseusspake among the maidens, saying: “I pray you stand thus apart, while Imyself wash the brine from my shoulders, and anoint me with olive oil, fortruly oil is long a stranger to my skin. But in your sight I will not bathe,for I am ashamed to make me naked in the company of fair-tressedmaidens.”

Then they went apart and told all to their lady. But with the river water thegoodly Odysseus washed from his skin the salt scurf that covered his back andbroad shoulders, and from his head he wiped the crusted brine of the barrensea. But when he had washed his whole body, and anointed him with olive oil,and had clad himself in the raiment that the unwedded maiden gave him, thenAthene, the daughter of Zeus, made him greater and more mighty to behold, andfrom his head caused deep curling locks to flow, like the hyacinth flower. Andas when some skilful man overlays gold upon silver—one that Hephaestusand Pallas Athene have taught all manner of craft, and full of grace is hishandiwork—even so did Athene shed grace about his head and shoulders.

Then to the shore of the sea went Odysseus apart, and sat down, glowing inbeauty and grace, and the princess marvelled at him, and spake among herfair-tressed maidens, saying:

“Listen, my white-armed maidens, and I will say somewhat. Not without thewill of all the gods who hold Olympus hath this man come among the godlikePhaeacians. Erewhile he seemed to me uncomely, but now he is like the gods thatkeep the wide heaven. Would that such an one might be called my husband,dwelling here, and that it might please him here to abide! But come, mymaidens, give the stranger meat and drink.”

Thus she spake, and they gave ready ear and hearkened, and set beside Odysseusmeat and drink, and the steadfast goodly Odysseus did eat and drink eagerly,for it was long since he had tasted food.

Now Nausicaa of the white arms had another thought. She folded the raiment andstored it in the goodly wain, and yoked the mules strong of hoof, and herselfclimbed into the car. Then she called on Odysseus, and spake and hailed him:“Up now, stranger, and rouse thee to go to the city, that I may conveythee to the house of my wise father, where, I promise thee, thou shalt getknowledge of all the noblest of the Phaeacians. But do thou even as I tellthee, and thou seemest a discreet man enough. So long as we are passing alongthe fields and farms of men, do thou fare quickly with the maidens behind themules and the chariot, and I will lead the way. But when we set foot within thecity,—whereby goes a high wall with towers, and there is a fair haven oneither side of the town, and narrow is the entrance, and curved ships are drawnup on either hand of the mole, for all the folk have stations for theirvessels, each man one for himself. And there is the place of assembly about thegoodly temple of Poseidon, furnished with heavy stones, deep bedded in theearth. There men look to the gear of the black ships, hawsers and sails, andthere they fine down the oars. For the Phaeacians care not for bow nor quiver,but for masts, and oars of ships, and gallant barques, wherein rejoicing theycross the grey sea. Their ungracious speech it is that I would avoid, lest someman afterward rebuke me, and there are but too many insolent folk among thepeople. And some one of the baser sort might meet me and say: ‘Who isthis that goes with Nausicaa, this tall and goodly stranger? Where found shehim? Her husband he will be, her very own. Either she has taken in someshipwrecked wanderer of strange men,—for no men dwell near us; or somegod has come in answer to her instant prayer; from heaven has he descended, andwill have her to wife for evermore. Better so, if herself she has ranged abroadand found a lord from a strange land, for verily she holds in no regard thePhaeacians here in this country, the many men and noble who are herwooers.’ So will they speak, and this would turn to my reproach. Yea, andI myself would think it blame of another maiden who did such things in despiteof her friends, her father and mother being still alive, and was conversantwith men before the day of open wedlock. But, stranger, heed well what I say,that as soon as may be thou mayest gain at my father’s hands an escortand a safe return. Thou shalt find a fair grove of Athene, a poplar grove nearthe road, and a spring wells forth therein, and a meadow lies all around. Thereis my father’s demesne, and his fruitful close, within the sound of aman’s shout from the city. Sit thee down there and wait until such timeas we may have come into the city, and reached the house of my father. But whenthou deemest that we are got to the palace, then go up to the city of thePhaeacians, and ask for the house of my father Alcinous, high of heart. It iseasily known, and a young child could be thy guide, for nowise like it arebuilded the houses of the Phaeacians, so goodly is the palace of the heroAlcinous. But when thou art within the shadow of the halls and the court, passquickly through the great chamber, till thou comest to my mother, who sits atthe hearth in the light of the fire, weaving yarn of sea-purple stain, a wonderto behold. Her chair is leaned against a pillar, and her maidens sit behindher. And there my father’s throne leans close to hers, wherein he sitsand drinks his wine, like an immortal. Pass thou by him, and cast thy handsabout my mother’s knees, that thou mayest see quickly and with joy theday of thy returning, even if thou art from a very far country. If but herheart be kindly disposed toward thee, then is there hope that thou shalt seethy friends, and come to thy well-builded house, and to thine owncountry.”

She spake, and smote the mules with the shining whip, and quickly they leftbehind them the streams of the river. And well they trotted and well theypaced, and she took heed to drive in such wise that the maidens and Odysseusmight follow on foot, and cunningly she plied the lash. Then the sun set, andthey came to the famous grove, the sacred place of Athene; so there the goodlyOdysseus sat him down. Then straightway he prayed to the daughter of mightyZeus: “Listen to me, child of Zeus, lord of the aegis, unwearied maiden;hear me even now, since before thou heardest not when I was smitten on the sea,when the renowned Earth-shaker smote me. Grant me to come to the Phaeacians asone dear, and worthy of pity.”

So he spake in prayer, and Pallas Athene heard him; but she did not yet appearto him face to face, for she had regard unto her father’s brother, whofuriously raged against the godlike Odysseus, till he should come to his owncountry.

BOOK VII.

Odysseus being received at the house of the king Alcinous, the queen aftersupper, taking notice of his garments, gives him occasion to relate his passagethither on the raft. Alcinous promises him a convoy for the morrow.

So he prayed there, the steadfast goodly Odysseus, while the two strong mulesbare the princess to the town. And when she had now come to the famous palaceof her father, she halted at the gateway, and round her gathered her brothers,men like to the immortals, and they loosed the mules from under the car, andcarried the raiment within. But the maiden betook her to her chamber; and anaged dame from Aperaea kindled the fire for her, Eurymedusa, the handmaid ofthe chamber, whom the curved ships upon a time had brought from Aperaea; andmen chose her as a prize for Alcinous, seeing that he bare rule over all thePhaeacians, and the people hearkened to him as to a god. She waited on thewhite-armed Nausicaa in the palace halls; she was wont to kindle the fire andprepare the supper in the inner chamber.

At that same hour Odysseus roused him to go to the city, and Athene shed a deepmist about Odysseus for the favour that she bare him, lest any of thePhaeacians, high of heart, should meet him and mock him in sharp speech, andask him who he was. But when he was now about to enter the pleasant city, thenthe goddess, grey-eyed Athene, met him, in the fashion of a young maidencarrying a pitcher, and she stood over against him, and goodly Odysseusinquired of her:

“My child, couldst thou not lead me to the palace of the lord Alcinous,who bears sway among this people? Lo, I am come here, a stranger travel-wornfrom afar, from a distant land; wherefore of the folk who possess this city andcountry I know not any man.”

Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered him saying: “Yea now, fatherand stranger, I will show thee the house that thou bidst me declare, for itlies near the palace of my noble father; behold, be silent as thou goest, and Iwill lead the way. And look on no man, nor question any. For these men do notgladly suffer strangers, nor lovingly entreat whoso cometh from a strange land.They trust to the speed of their swift ships, wherewith they cross the greatgulf, for the Earth-shaker hath vouchsafed them this power. Their ships areswift as the flight of a bird, or as a thought.”

Therewith Pallas Athene led the way swiftly, and he followed hard in thefootsteps of the goddess. And it came to pass that the Phaeacians, marinersrenowned, marked him not as he went down the city through their midst, for thefair tressed Athene suffered it not, that awful goddess, who shed a wondrousmist about him, for the favour that she bare him in her heart. And Odysseusmarvelled at the havens and the gallant ships, yea and the places of assemblyof the heroes, and the long high walls crowned with palisades, a marvel tobehold. But when they had now come to the famous palace of the king, thegoddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake first and said:

“Lo, here, father and stranger, is the house that thou wouldst have meshow thee: and thou shalt find kings at the feast, the fosterlings of Zeus;enter then, and fear not in thine heart, for the dauntless man is the best inevery adventure, even though he come from a strange land. Thou shalt find thequeen first in the halls; Arete is the name whereby men call her, and she cameeven of those that begat the king Alcinous. First Nausithous was son ofPoseidon, the Earth-shaker, and of Periboea, the comeliest of women, youngestdaughter of great-hearted Eurymedon, who once was king among the haughtyGiants. Howbeit, he destroyed his infatuate people, and was himself destroyed;but Poseidon lay with Periboea and begat a son, proud Nausithous, who sometimewas prince among the Phaeacians; and Nausithous begat Rhexenor and Alcinous.While Rhexenor had as yet no son, Apollo of the silver bow smote him, a groomnew wed, leaving in his halls one only child Arete; and Alcinous took her towife, and honoured her as no other woman in the world is honoured, of all thatnow-a-days keep house under the hand of their lords. Thus she hath, and hathever had, all worship heartily from her dear children and from her lordAlcinous and from all the folk, who look on her as on a goddess, and greet herwith reverend speech, when she goes about the town. Yea, for she too hath nolack of understanding. To whomso she shows favour, even if they be men, sheends their feuds.[14] If but her heart be kindly disposed to thee, thenis there good hope that thou mayest see thy friends, and come to thyhigh-roofed home and thine own country.”

[14]v. l. ᾗσιν. And for the women she favours, she ends thefeuds of their lords also.

Therewith grey-eyed Athene departed over the unharvested seas, and leftpleasant Scheria, and came to Marathon and wide-wayed Athens, and entered thegood house of Erechtheus. Meanwhile Odysseus went to the famous palace ofAlcinous, and his heart was full of many thoughts as he stood there or ever hehad reached the threshold of bronze. For there was a gleam as it were of sun ormoon through the high-roofed hall of great-hearted Alcinous. Brazen were thewalls which ran this way and that from the threshold to the inmost chamber, andround them was a frieze of blue, and golden were the doors that closed in thegood house. Silver were the door-posts that were set on the brazen threshold,and silver the lintel thereupon, and the hook of the door was of gold. And oneither side stood golden hounds and silver, which Hephaestus wrought by hiscunning, to guard the palace of great-hearted Alcinous, being free from deathand age all their days. And within were seats arrayed against the wall this wayand that, from the threshold even to the inmost chamber, and thereon werespread light coverings finely woven, the handiwork of women. There thePhaeacian chieftains were wont to sit eating and drinking, for they hadcontinual store. Yea, and there were youths fashioned in gold, standing onfirm-set bases, with flaming torches in their hands, giving light through thenight to the feasters in the palace. And he had fifty handmaids in the house,and some grind the yellow grain on the millstone, and others weave webs andturn the yarn as they sit, restless as the leaves of the tall poplar tree: andthe soft olive oil drops off that linen, so closely is it woven. For as thePhaeacian men are skilled beyond all others in driving a swift ship upon thedeep, even so are the women the most cunning at the loom, for Athene hath giventhem notable wisdom in all fair handiwork and cunning wit. And without thecourtyard hard by the door is a great garden, off our ploughgates, and a hedgeruns round on either side. And there grow tall trees blossoming, pear-trees andpomegranates, and apple-trees with bright fruit, and sweet figs, and olives intheir bloom. The fruit of these trees never perisheth neither faileth, winternor summer, enduring through all the year. Evermore the West Wind blowingbrings some fruits to birth and ripens others. Pear upon pear waxes old, andapple on apple, yea and cluster ripens upon cluster of the grape, and fig uponfig. There too hath he a fruitful vineyard planted, whereof the one part isbeing dried by the heat, a sunny plot on level ground, while other grapes menare gathering, and yet others they are treading in the wine-press. In theforemost row are unripe grapes that cast the blossom, and others there be thatare growing black to vintaging. There too, skirting the furthest line, are allmanner of garden beds, planted trimly, that are perpetually fresh, and thereinare two fountains of water, whereof one scatters his streams all about thegarden, and the other runs over against it beneath the threshold of thecourtyard, and issues by the lofty house, and thence did the townsfolk drawwater. These were the splendid gifts of the gods in the palace of Alcinous.

There the steadfast goodly Odysseus stood and gazed. But when he had gazed atall and wondered, he passed quickly over the threshold within the house. And hefound the captains and the counsellors of the Phaeacians pouring forth wine tothe keen-sighted god, the slayer of Argos; for to him they poured the last cupwhen they were minded to take rest. Now the steadfast goodly Odysseus wentthrough the hall, clad in a thick mist, which Athene shed around him, till hecame to Arete and the king Alcinous. And Odysseus cast his hands about theknees of Arete, and then it was that the wondrous mist melted from off him, anda silence fell on them that were within the house at the sight of him, and theymarvelled as they beheld him. Then Odysseus began his prayer:

“Arete, daughter of god-like Rhexenor, after many toils am I come to thyhusband and to thy knees and to these guests, and may the gods vouchsafe them ahappy life, and may each one leave to his children after him his substance inhis halls and whatever dues of honour the people have rendered unto him. Butspeed, I pray you, my parting, that I may come the more quickly to mine owncountry, for already too long do I suffer affliction far from myfriends.”

Therewith he sat him down by the hearth in the ashes at the fire, and behold, adead silence fell on all. And at the last the ancient lord Echeneus spake amongthem, an elder of the Phaeacians, excellent in speech and skilled in muchwisdom of old time. With good will he made harangue and spake among them:

“Alcinous, this truly is not the more seemly way, nor is it fitting thatthe stranger should sit upon the ground in the ashes by the hearth, while thesemen refrain them, waiting thy word. Nay come, bid the stranger arise, and sethim on a chair inlaid with silver, and command the henchmen to mix the wine,that we may pour forth likewise before Zeus, whose joy is in the thunder, whoattendeth upon reverend suppliants. And let the housewife give supper to thestranger out of such stores as be within.”

Now when the mighty king Alcinous heard this saying, he took Odysseus, the wiseand crafty, by the hand, and raised him from the hearth, and set him on ashining chair, whence he bade his son give place, valiant Laodamas, who satnext him and was his dearest. And a handmaid bare water for the hands in agoodly golden ewer, and poured it forth over a silver basin to wash withal, anddrew to his side a polished table. And a grave dame bare wheaten bread and setit by him and laid upon the board many dainties, giving freely of such thingsas she had by her. So the steadfast goodly Odysseus did eat and drink: and thenthe mighty Alcinous spake unto the henchman:

“Pontonous, mix the bowl and serve out the wine to all in the hall, thatwe may pour forth likewise before Zeus, whose joy is in the thunder, whoattendeth upon reverend suppliants.”

So spake he, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine, and served it out toall, when he had poured for libation into each cup in turn. But when they hadpoured forth and had drunken to their heart’s content, Alcinous madeharangue and spake among them:

“Hear me, ye captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, that I may speakas my spirit bids me. Now that the feast is over, go ye home and lie down torest; and in the morning we will call yet more elders together, and entertainthe stranger in the halls and do fair sacrifice to the gods, and thereafter wewill likewise bethink us of the convoy, that so without pain or grief yonderstranger may by our convoy reach his own country speedily and with joy, eventhough he be from very far away. So shall he suffer no hurt or harm in midpassage, ere he set foot on his own land; but thereafter he shall endure suchthings as Fate and the stern spinning women drew off the spindles for him athis birth when his mother bare him. But if he is some deathless god come downfrom heaven, then do the gods herein imagine some new device against us. Foralways heretofore the gods appear manifest amongst us, whensoever we offerglorious hecatombs, and they feast by our side, sitting at the same board; yea,and even if a wayfarer going all alone has met with them, they use no disguise,since we are near of kin to them, even as are the Cyclôpes and the wild tribesof the Giants.”

And Odysseus of many counsels answered him, saying: “Alcinous, thatthought be far from thee! for I bear no likeness either in form or fashion tothe deathless gods, who keep wide heaven, but to men that die. Whomsoever yeknow of human kind the heaviest laden with sorrow, to them might I liken myselfin my griefs. Yea, and I might tell of yet other woes, even the long tale oftoil that by the gods’ will I endured. But as for me, suffer me to sup,afflicted as I am; for nought is there more shameless than a ravening belly,which biddeth a man perforce be mindful of him, though one be worn andsorrowful in spirit, even as I have sorrow of heart; yet evermore he biddeth meeat and drink and maketh me utterly to forget all my sufferings, and commandethme to take my fill. But do ye bestir you at the breaking of the day, that so yemay set me, hapless as I am, upon my country’s soil, albeit after muchsuffering. Ah, and may life leave me when I have had sight of mine ownpossessions, my thralls, and my dwelling that is great and high!”

So spake he, and they all assented thereto, and bade send the stranger on hisway, for that he had spoken aright. Now when they had poured forth and haddrunken to their hearts’ content, they went each one to his house to laythem to rest. But goodly Odysseus was left behind in the hall, and by him satArete and godlike Alcinous; and the maids cleared away the furniture of thefeast; and white-armed Arete first spake among them. For she knew the mantleand the doublet, when she saw the goodly raiment that she herself had wroughtwith the women her handmaids. So she uttered her voice and spake to him wingedwords:

“Sir, I am bold to ask thee first of this. Who art thou of the sons ofmen, and whence? Who gave thee this raiment? Didst thou not say indeed thatthou camest hither wandering over the deep?”

Then Odysseus of many counsels answered her, and said: “’Tis hard,O queen, to tell my griefs from end to end, for that the gods of heaven havegiven me griefs in plenty. But this will I declare to thee, whereof thou dostquestion and inquire. There is an isle, Ogygia, that lies far off in the sea;there dwells the daughter of Atlas, crafty Calypso, of the braided tresses, anawful goddess, nor is any either of gods or mortals conversant with her.Howbeit, some god brought me to her hearth, wretched man that I am, all alone,for that Zeus with white bolt crushed my swift ship and cleft it in the midstof the wine-dark deep. There all the rest of my good company was lost, but Iclung with fast embrace about the keel of the curved ship, and so was I bornefor nine whole days. And on the tenth dark night the gods brought me nigh theisle Ogygia, where Calypso of the braided tresses dwells, an awful goddess. Shetook me in, and with all care she cherished me and gave me sustenance, and saidthat she would make me to know not death nor age for all my days; but never didshe win my heart within me. There I abode for seven years continually, andwatered with my tears the imperishable raiment that Calypso gave me. But whenthe eighth year came round in his course, then at last she urged and bade me tobe gone, by reason of a message from Zeus, or it may be that her own mind wasturned. So she sent me forth on a well-bound raft, and gave me plenteous store,bread and sweet wine, and she clad me in imperishable raiment, and sent forth awarm and gentle wind to blow. For ten days and seven I sailed, traversing thedeep, and on the eighteenth day the shadowy hills of your land showed in sight,and my heart was glad,—wretched that I was—for surely I was stillto be the mate of much sorrow. For Poseidon, shaker of the earth, stirred upthe same, who roused against me the winds and stopped my way, and made awondrous sea to swell, nor did the wave suffer me to be borne upon my raft, asI made ceaseless moan. Thus the storm winds shattered the raft, but as for me Icleft my way through the gulf yonder, till the wind bare and the water broughtme nigh your coast. Then as I strove to land upon the shore, the wave hadoverwhelmed me, dashing me against the great rocks and a desolate place, but atlength I gave way and swam back, till I came to the river, where the placeseemed best in mine eyes, smooth of rocks, and withal there was a shelter fromthe wind. And as I came out I sank down, gathering to me my spirit, andimmortal night came on. Then I gat me forth and away from the heaven-fed river,and laid me to sleep in the bushes and strewed leaves about me, and the godshed over me infinite sleep. There among the leaves I slept, stricken at heart,all the night long, even till the morning and mid-day. And the sun sank whensweet sleep let me free. And I was aware of the company of thy daughterdisporting them upon the sand, and there was she in the midst of them like untothe goddesses. To her I made my supplication, and she showed no lack of a goodunderstanding, behaving so as thou couldst not hope for in chancing upon one soyoung; for the younger folk lack wisdom always. She gave me bread enough andred wine, and let wash me in the river and bestowed on me these garments.Herein, albeit in sore distress, have I told thee all the truth.”

And Alcinous answered again, and spake saying: “Sir, surely this was noright thought of my daughter, in that she brought thee not to our house withthe women her handmaids, though thou didst first entreat her grace.”

And Odysseus of many counsels answered, and said unto him: “My lord,chide not, I pray thee, for this the blameless maiden. For indeed she bade mefollow with her company, but I would not for fear and very shame, lestperchance thine heart might be clouded at the sight; for a jealous race uponthe earth are we, the tribes of men.”

And Alcinous answered yet again, and spake saying: “Sir, my heart withinme is not of such temper as to have been wroth without a cause: due measure inall things is best. Would to father Zeus, and Athene, and Apollo, would that sogoodly a man as thou art, and like-minded with me, thou wouldst wed mydaughter, and be called my son, here abiding: so would I give thee house andwealth, if thou wouldst stay of thine own will: but against thy will shall noneof the Phaeacians keep thee: never be this well-pleasing in the eyes of fatherZeus! And now I ordain an escort for thee on a certain day, that thou maystsurely know, and that day the morrow. Then shalt thou lay thee down overcome bysleep, and they the while shall smite the calm waters, till thou come to thycountry and thy house, and whatsoever place is dear to thee, even though it bemuch farther than Euboea, which certain of our men say is the farthest oflands, they who saw it, when they carried Rhadamanthus, of the fair hair, tovisit Tityos, son of Gaia. Even thither they went, and accomplished the journeyon the self-same day and won home again, and were not weary. And now shalt thouknow for thyself how far my ships are the best, and how my young men excel attossing the salt water with the oar-blade.”

So spake he, and the steadfast goodly Odysseus rejoiced; and then he uttered aword in prayer, and called aloud to Zeus: “Father Zeus, oh that Alcinousmay fulfil all that he hath said, so may his fame never be quenched upon theearth, the grain-giver, and I should come to mine own land!”

Thus they spake one to the other. And white-armed Arete bade her handmaids setout bedsteads beneath the gallery, and cast fair purple blankets over them, andspread coverlets above, and thereon lay thick mantles to be a clothing overall. So they went from the hall with torch in hand. But when they had busiedthem and spread the good bedstead, they stood by Odysseus and called unto him,saying:

“Up now, stranger, and get thee to sleep, thy bed is made.”

So spake they, and it seemed to him that rest was wondrous good. So he sleptthere, the steadfast goodly Odysseus, on the jointed bedstead, beneath theechoing gallery. But Alcinous laid him down in the innermost chamber of thehigh house, and by him the lady his wife arrayed bedstead and bedding.

BOOK VIII.

The next day’s entertainment of Odysseus, where he sees them contend inwrestling and other exercises, and upon provocation took up a greater stonethan that which they were throwing, and overthrew them all. Alcinous and thelords give him presents. And how the king asked his name, his country, and hisadventures.

Now when early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, then the mighty kingAlcinous gat him up from his bed; and Odysseus, of the seed of Zeus, likewiseuprose, the waster of cities. And the mighty king Alcinous led the way to theassembly place of the Phaeacians, which they had established hard by the ships.So when they had come thither, and sat them down on the polished stones closeby each other, Pallas Athene went on her way through the town, in the semblanceof the herald of wise Alcinous, devising a return for the great-heartedOdysseus. Then standing by each man she spake, saying:

“Hither now get ye to the assembly, ye captains and counsellors of thePhaeacians, that ye may learn concerning the stranger, who hath lately come tothe palace of wise Alcinous, in his wanderings over the deep, and his form islike the deathless gods.”

Therewith she aroused the spirit and desire of each one, and speedily themeeting-places and seats were filled with men that came to the gathering: yea,and many an one marvelled at the sight of the wise son of Laertes, for wondrouswas the grace Athene poured upon his head and shoulders, and she made himgreater and more mighty to behold, that he might win love and worship andhonour among all the Phaeacians, and that he might accomplish many feats,wherein the Phaeacians made trial of Odysseus. Now when they were gathered andcome together, Alcinous made harangue and spake among them:

“Harken, ye captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, and I will saythat which my spirit within me bids me utter. This stranger, I know not who heis, hath come to my house in his wandering, whether from the men of the dawningor the westward, and he presses for a convoy, and prays that it be assured tohim. So let us, as in time past, speed on the convoy. For never, nay never,doth any man who cometh to my house, abide here long in sorrow for want of helpupon his way. Nay, come let us draw down a black ship to the fair salt sea, forher first voyage, and let them choose fifty and two noble youths throughout thetownship, who have been proved heretofore the best. And when ye have made fastthe oars upon the benches, step all a shore, and thereafter come to our house,and quickly fall to feasting; and I will make good provision for all. To thenoble youths I give this commandment; but ye others, sceptred kings, come to myfair dwelling, that we may entertain the stranger in the halls, and let no manmake excuse. Moreover, bid hither the divine minstrel, Demodocus, for the godhath given minstrelsy to him as to none other, to make men glad in what waysoever his spirit stirs him to sing.”

He spake and led the way, and the sceptred kings accompanied him, while thehenchmen went for the divine minstrel. And chosen youths, fifty and two,departed at his command, to the shore of the unharvested sea. But after theyhad gone down to the ship and to the sea, first of all they drew the ship downto the deep water, and placed the mast and sails in the black ship, and fixedthe oars in leathern loops, all orderly, and spread forth the white sails. Andthey moored her high out in the shore water, and thereafter went on their wayto the great palace of the wise Alcinous. Now the galleries and the courts andthe rooms were thronged with men that came to the gathering, for there weremany, young and old. Then Alcinous sacrificed twelve sheep among them, andeight boars with flashing tusks, and two oxen with trailing feet. These theyflayed and made ready, and dressed a goodly feast.

Then the henchman drew near, leading with him the beloved minstrel, whom themuse loved dearly, and she gave him both good and evil; of his sight she refthim, but granted him sweet song. Then Pontonous, the henchman, set for him ahigh chair inlaid with silver, in the midst of the guests, leaning it againstthe tall pillar, and he hung the loud lyre on a pin, close above his head, andshowed him how to lay his hands on it. And close by him he placed a basket, anda fair table, and a goblet of wine by his side, to drink when his spirit badehim. So they stretched forth their hands upon the good cheer spread beforethem. But after they had put from them the desire of meat and drink, the Musestirred the minstrel to sing the songs of famous men, even that lay whereof thefame had then reached the wide heaven, namely, the quarrel between Odysseus andAchilles, son of Peleus; how once on a time they contended in fierce words at arich festival of the gods, but Agamemnon, king of men, was inly glad when thenoblest of the Achaeans fell at variance. For so Phoebus Apollo in hissoothsaying had told him that it must be, in goodly Pytho, what time he crossedthe threshold of stone, to seek to the oracle. For in those days the first waveof woe was rolling on Trojans and Danaans through the counsel of great Zeus.

This song it was that the famous minstrel sang; but Odysseus caught his greatpurple cloak with his stalwart hands, and drew it down over his head, and hidhis comely face, for he was ashamed to shed tears beneath his brows in presenceof the Phaeacians. Yea, and oft as the divine minstrel paused in his song,Odysseus would wipe away the tears, and draw the cloak from off his head, andtake the two-handled goblet and pour forth before the gods. But whensoever hebegan again, and the chiefs of the Phaeacians stirred him to sing, in delightat the lay, again would Odysseus cover up his head and make moan. Now none ofall the company marked him weeping, but Alcinous alone noted it and was warethereof as he sat by him and heard him groaning heavily. And presently he spakeamong the Phaeacians, masters of the oar:

“Hearken, ye captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, now have oursouls been satisfied with the good feast, and with the lyre, which is the mateof the rich banquet. Let us go forth anon, and make trial of divers games, thatthe stranger may tell his friends, when home he returneth, how greatly we excelall men in boxing, and wrestling, and leaping, and speed of foot.”

He spake, and led the way, and they went with him. And the henchman hung theloud lyre on the pin, and took the hand of Demodocus, and let him forth fromthe hall, and guided him by the same way, whereby those others, the chiefs ofthe Phaeacians, had gone to gaze upon the games. So they went on their way tothe place of assembly, and with them a great company innumerable; and many anoble youth stood up to play. There rose Acroneus, and Ocyalus, and Elatreus,and Nauteus, and Prymneus, and Anchialus, and Eretmeus, and Ponteus, andProreus, Thoon, and Anabesineus, and Amphialus, son of Polyneus, son of Tekton,and likewise Euryalus, the peer of murderous Ares, the son of Naubolus, who inface and form was goodliest of all the Phaeacians next to noble Laodamas. Andthere stood up the three sons of noble Alcinous, Laodamas, and Halius, andgod-like Clytoneus. And behold, these all first tried the issue in the footrace. From the very start they strained at utmost speed: and all together theyflew forward swiftly, raising the dust along the plain. And noble Clytoneus wasfar the swiftest of them all in running, and by the length of the furrow thatmules cleave in a fallow field,[15] so far did he shoot to the front, and came to thecrowd by the lists, while those others were left behind. Then they made trialof strong wrestling, and here in turn Euryalus excelled all the best. And inleaping Amphialus was far the foremost, and Elatreus in weight-throwing, and inboxing Laodamas, the good son of Alcinous. Now when they had all taken theirpleasure in the games, Laodamas, son of Alcinous, spake among them:

[15]The distance here indicated seems to be that which the mule goes in ploughing,without pausing to take breath.

“Come, my friends, let us ask the stranger whether he is skilled orpractised in any sport. Ill fashioned, at least, he is not in his thighs andsinewy legs and hands withal, and his stalwart neck and mighty strength: yeaand he lacks not youth, but is crushed by many troubles. For I tell thee thereis nought else worse than the sea to confound a man, how hardy soever he maybe.”

And Euryalus in turn made answer, and said: “Laodamas, verily thou hastspoken this word in season. Go now thyself and challenge him, and declare thysaying.”

Now when the good son of Alcinous heard this, he went and stood in the midst,and spake unto Odysseus: “Come, do thou too, father and stranger, try thyskill in the sports, if haply thou art practised in any; and thou art like tohave knowledge of games, for there is no greater glory for a man while yet helives, than that which he achieves by hand and foot. Come, then, make essay,and cast away care from thy soul: thy journey shall not now be long delayed;lo, thy ship is even now drawn down to the sea, and the men of thy company areready.”

And Odysseus of many counsels answered him, saying; “Laodamas, whereforedo ye mock me, requiring this thing of me? Sorrow is far nearer my heart thansports, for much have I endured and laboured sorely in time past, and now I sitin this your gathering, craving my return, and making my prayer to the king andall the people.”

And Euryalus answered, and rebuked him to his face: “No truly, stranger,nor do I think thee at all like one that is skilled in games, whereof there aremany among men, rather art thou such an one as comes and goes in a benchedship, a master of sailors that are merchantmen, one with a memory for hisfreight, or that hath the charge of a cargo homeward bound, and of greedilygotten gains; thou seemest not a man of thy hands.”

Then Odysseus of many counsels looked fiercely on him and said:“Stranger, thou hast not spoken well; thou art like a man presumptuous.So true it is that the gods do not give every gracious gift to all, neithershapeliness, nor wisdom, nor skilled speech. For one man is feebler thananother in presence, yet the god crowns his words with beauty, and men beholdhim and rejoice, and his speech runs surely on his way with a sweet modesty,and he shines forth among the gathering of his people, and as he passes throughthe town men gaze on him as a god. Another again is like the deathless gods forbeauty, but his words have no crown of grace about them; even as thou art incomeliness pre-eminent, nor could a god himself fashion thee for the better,but in wit thou art a weakling. Yea, thou hast stirred my spirit in my breastby speaking thus amiss. I am not all unversed in sports, as thy words go, butmethinks I was among the foremost while as yet I trusted in my youth and myhands, but now am I holden in misery and pains: for I have endured much inpassing through the wars of men and the grievous waves of the sea. Yet even so,for all my affliction, I will essay the games, for thy word hath bitten to thequick, and thou hast roused me with thy saying.”

He spake, and clad even as he was in his mantle leaped to his feet, and caughtup a weight larger than the rest, a huge weight heavier far than thosewherewith the Phaeacians contended in casting. With one whirl he sent it fromhis stout hand, and the stone flew hurtling: and the Phaeacians, of the longoars, those mariners renowned, crouched to earth beneath the rushing of thestone. Beyond all the marks it flew, so lightly it sped from his hand, andAthene in the fashion of a man marked the place, and spake and hailed him:

“Yea, even a blind man, stranger, might discern that token if he gropedfor it, for it is in no wise lost among the throng of the others, but is farthe first; for this bout then take heart: not one of the Phaeacians shallattain thereunto or overpass it.”

So spake she; and the steadfast goodly Odysseus rejoiced and was glad, for thathe saw a true friend in the lists. Then with a lighter heart he spake amid thePhaeacians:

“Now reach ye this throw, young men, if ye may; and soon, methinks, willI cast another after it, as far or yet further. And whomsoever of the rest hisheart and spirit stir thereto, hither let him come and try the issue with me,in boxing or in wrestling or even in the foot race, I care not which, for yehave greatly angered me: let any of all the Phaeacians come save Laodamasalone, for he is mine host: who would strive with one that entreated himkindly? Witless and worthless is the man, whoso challengeth his host thatreceiveth him in a strange land, he doth but maim his own estate. But for therest, I refuse none and hold none lightly, but I fain would know and prove themface to face. For I am no weakling in all sports, even in the feats of men. Iknow well how to handle the polished bow, and ever the first would I be toshoot and smite my man in the press of foes, even though many of my companystood by, and were aiming at the enemy. Alone Philoctetes in the Trojan landsurpassed me with the bow in our Achaean archery. But I avow myself far moreexcellent than all besides, of the mortals that are now upon the earth and liveby bread. Yet with the men of old time I would not match me, neither withHeracles nor with Eurytus of Oechalia, who contended even with the deathlessgods for the prize of archery. Wherefore the great Eurytus perished all toosoon, nor did old age come on him in his halls, for Apollo slew him in hiswrath, seeing that he challenged him to shoot a match. And with the spear I canthrow further than any other man can shoot an arrow. Only I doubt that in thefoot race some of the Phaeacians may outstrip me, for I have been shamefullybroken in many waters, seeing that there was no continual sustenance on board;wherefore my knees are loosened.”

So spake he and all kept silence; and Alcinous alone answered him, saying:

“Stranger, forasmuch as these thy words are not ill-taken in ourgathering, but thou wouldest fain show forth the valour which keeps theecompany, being angry that yonder man stood by thee in the lists, and tauntedthee, in such sort as no mortal would speak lightly of thine excellence, whohad knowledge of sound words; nay now, mark my speech; so shalt thou havesomewhat to tell another hero, when with thy wife and children thou suppest inthy halls, and recallest our prowess, what deeds Zeus bestoweth even upon usfrom our fathers’ days even until now. For we are no perfect boxers, norwrestlers, but speedy runners, and the best of seamen; and dear to us ever isthe banquet, and the harp, and the dance, and changes of raiment, and the warmbath, and love, and sleep. Lo, now arise, ye dancers of the Phaeacians, thebest in the land, and make sport, that so the stranger may tell his friends,when he returneth home, how far we surpass all men besides in seamanship, andspeed of foot, and in the dance and song. And let one go quickly, and fetch forDemodocus the loud lyre which is lying somewhere in our halls.”

So spake Alcinous the godlike, and the henchman rose to bear the hollow lyrefrom the king’s palace. Then stood up nine chosen men in all, the judgesof the people, who were wont to order all things in the lists aright. So theylevelled the place for the dance, and made a fair ring and a wide. And thehenchman drew near bearing the loud lyre to Demodocus, who gat him into themidst, and round him stood boys in their first bloom, skilled in the dance, andthey smote the good floor with their feet. And Odysseus gazed at the twinklingsof the feet, and marvelled in spirit.

Now as the minstrel touched the lyre, he lifted up his voice in sweet song, andhe sang of the love of Ares and Aphrodite, of the fair crown, how at the firstthey lay together in the house of Hephaestus privily; and Ares gave her manygifts, and dishonoured the marriage bed of the lord Hephaestus. And anon therecame to him one to report the thing, even Helios, that had seen them at theirpastime. Now when Hephaestus heard the bitter tidings, he went his way to theforge, devising evil in the deep of his heart, and set the great anvil on thestithy, and wrought fetters that none might snap or loosen, that the loversmight there unmoveably remain. Now when he had forged the crafty net in hisanger against Ares, he went on his way to the chamber where his marriage bedwas set out, and strewed his snares all about the posts of the bed, and manytoo were hung aloft from the main beam, subtle as spiders’ webs, so thatnone might see them, even of the blessed gods: so cunningly were they forged.Now after he had done winding the snare about the bed, he made as though hewould go to Lemnos, that stablished castle, and this was far the dearest of alllands in his sight. But Ares of the golden rein kept no blind watch, what timehe saw Hephaestus, the famed craftsman, depart afar. So he went on his way tothe house of renowned Hephaestus, eager for the love of crowned Cytherea. Nowshe was but newly come from her sire, the mighty Cronion, and as it chanced hadsat her down; and Ares entered the house, and clasped her hand, and spake, andhailed her:

“Come, my beloved, let us to bed, and take our pleasure of love, forHephaestus is no longer among his own people; methinks he is already gone toLemnos, to the Sintians, men of savage speech.”

So spake he, and a glad thing it seemed to her to lie with him. So they twainwent to the couch, and laid them to sleep, and around them clung the cunningbonds of skilled Hephaestus, so that they could not move nor raise a limb. Thenat the last they knew it, when there was no way to flee. Now the famous god ofthe strong arms drew near to them, having turned him back ere he reached theland of Lemnos. For Helios had kept watch, and told him all. So heavy at hearthe went his way to his house, and stood at the entering in of the gate, andwild rage gat hold of him, and he cried terribly, and shouted to all the gods:

“Father Zeus, and ye other blessed gods, that live for ever, come hither,that ye may see a mirthful thing and a cruel, for that Aphrodite, daughter ofZeus, ever dishonours me by reason of my lameness, and sets her heart on Aresthe destroyer, because he is fair and straight of limb, but as for me, feeblewas I born. Howbeit, there is none to blame but my father andmother,—would they had never begotten me! But now shall ye see wherethese have gone up into my bed, and sleep together in love; and I am troubledat the sight. Yet, methinks, they will not care to lie thus even for a littlewhile longer, despite their great love. Soon will they have no desire to sleeptogether, but the snare and the bond shall hold them, till her sire give backto me the gifts of wooing, one and all, those that I bestowed upon him for thehand of his shameless girl; for that his daughter is fair, but withoutdiscretion.”

So spake he; and lo, the gods gathered together to the house of the brazenfloor. Poseidon came, the girdler of the earth, and Hermes came, the bringer ofluck, and prince Apollo came, the archer. But the lady goddesses abode eachwithin her house for shame. So the gods, the givers of good things, stood inthe porch: and laughter unquenchable arose among the blessed gods, as theybeheld the sleight of cunning Hephaestus. And thus would one speak, looking tohis neighbour:

“Ill deed, ill speed! The slow catcheth the swift! Lo, how Hephaestus,slow as he is, hath overtaken Ares, albeit he is the swiftest of the gods thathold Olympus, by his craft hath he taken him despite his lameness; whereforesurely Ares oweth the fine of the adulterer.” Thus they spake one to theother. But the lord Apollo, son of Zeus, spake to Hermes:

“Hermes, son of Zeus, messenger and giver of good things, wouldst thou befain, aye, pressed by strong bonds though it might be, to lie on the couch bygolden Aphrodite?”

Then the messenger, the slayer of Argos, answered him: “I would that thismight be, Apollo, my prince of archery! So might thrice as many bondsinnumerable encompass me about, and all ye gods be looking on and all thegoddesses, yet would I lie by golden Aphrodite.”

So spake he, and laughter rose among the deathless gods. Howbeit, Poseidonlaughed not, but was instant with Hephaestus, the renowned artificer, to loosethe bonds of Ares: and he uttered his voice, and spake to him winged words:

“Loose him, I pray thee, and I promise even as thou biddest me, that heshall himself pay all fair forfeit in the presence of the deathlessgods.”

Then the famous god of the strong arms answered him: “Require not this ofme, Poseidon, girdler of the earth. Evil are evil folk’s pledges to hold.How could I keep thee bound among the deathless gods, if Ares were to depart,avoiding the debt and the bond?”

Then Poseidon answered him, shaker of the earth: “Hephaestus, even ifAres avoid the debt and flee away, I myself will pay thee all.”

Then the famous god of the strong arms answered him: “It may not be thatI should say thee nay, neither is it meet.”

Therewith the mighty Hephaestus loosed the bonds, and the twain, when they werefreed from that strong bond, sprang up straightway, and departed, he to Thrace,but laughter-loving Aphrodite went to Paphos of Cyprus, where is her precinctand fragrant altar. There the Graces bathed and anointed her with oilimperishable, such as is laid upon the everlasting gods. And they clad her inlovely raiment, a wonder to see.

This was the song the famous minstrel sang; and Odysseus listened and was gladat heart, and likewise did the Phaeacians, of the long oars, those marinersrenowned.

Then Alcinous bade Halius and Laodamas dance alone, for none ever contendedwith them. So when they had taken in their hands the goodly ball of purple hue,that cunning Polybus had wrought for them, the one would bend backwards, andthrow it towards the shadowy clouds; and the other would leap upward from theearth, and catch it lightly in his turn, before his feet touched the ground.Now after they had made trial of throwing the ball straight up, the twain setto dance upon the bounteous earth, tossing the ball from hand to hand, and theother youths stood by the lists and beat time, and a great din uprose.

Then it was that goodly Odysseus spake unto Alcinous: “My lord Alcinous,most notable among all the people, thou didst boast thy dancers to be the bestin the world, and lo, thy words are fulfilled; I wonder as I look onthem.”

So spake he, and the mighty king Alcinous rejoiced and spake at once among thePhaeacians, masters of the oar:

“Hearken ye, captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, this strangerseems to me a wise man enough. Come then, let us give him a stranger’sgift, as is meet. Behold, there are twelve glorious princes who rule among thispeople and bear sway, and I myself am the thirteenth. Now each man among youbring a fresh robe and a doublet, and a talent of fine gold, and let usspeedily carry all these gifts together, that the stranger may take them in hishands, and go to supper with a glad heart. As for Euryalus, let him yieldamends to the man himself, with soft speech and with a gift, for his was nogentle saying.”

So spake he, and they all assented thereto, and would have it so. And each onesent forth his henchman to fetch his gift, and Euryalus answered the king andspake, saying:

“My lord Alcinous, most notable among all the people, I will makeatonement to thy guest according to thy word. I will give him a hanger all ofbronze, with a silver hilt thereto, and a sheath of fresh-sawn ivory covers itabout, and it shall be to him a thing of price.”

Therewith he puts into his hands the hanger dight with silver, and uttering hisvoice spake to him winged words: “Hail, stranger and father; and if aughtgrievous hath been spoken, may the storm-winds soon snatch and bear it away.But may the gods grant thee to see thy wife and to come to thine own country,for all too long has thou endured affliction away from thy friends.”

And Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: “Thou too, my friend,all hail; and may the gods vouchsafe thee happiness, and mayst thou never missthis sword which thou hast given me, thou that with soft speech hast yielded meamends.”

He spake and hung about his shoulders the silver-studded sword. And the sunsank, and the noble gifts were brought him. Then the proud henchmen bare themto the palace of Alcinous, and the sons of noble Alcinous took the fair gifts,and set them by their reverend mother. And the mighty king Alcinous led theway, and they came in and sat them down on the high seats. And the mightyAlcinous spake unto Arete:

“Bring me hither, my lady, a choice coffer, the best thou hast, andthyself place therein a fresh robe and a doublet, and heat for our guest acauldron on the fire, and warm water, that after the bath the stranger may seeall the gifts duly arrayed which the noble Phaeacians bare hither, and that hemay have joy in the feast, and in hearing the song of the minstrelsy. Also Iwill give him a beautiful golden chalice of mine own, that he may be mindful ofme all the days of his life when he poureth the drink-offering to Zeus and tothe other gods.”

So spake he, and Arete bade her handmaids to set a great cauldron on the firewith what speed they might. And they set the cauldron for the filling of thebath on the blazing fire, and poured water therein, and took faggots andkindled them beneath. So the fire began to circle round the belly of thecauldron, and the water waxed hot. Meanwhile Arete brought forth for her guestthe beautiful coffer from the treasure chamber, and bestowed fair giftstherein, raiment and gold, which the Phaeacians gave him. And with her ownhands she placed therein a robe and goodly doublet, and uttering her voicespake to him winged words:

“Do thou now look to the lid, and quickly tie the knot, lest any manspoil thy goods by the way, when presently thou fallest on sweet sleeptravelling in thy black ship.”

Now when the steadfast goodly Odysseus heard this saying, forthwith he fixed onthe lid, and quickly tied the curious knot, which the lady Circe on a time hadtaught him. Then straightway the housewife bade him go to the bath and bathehim; and he saw the warm water and was glad, for he was not wont to be so caredfor, from the day that he left the house of fair-tressed Calypso, but all thatwhile he had comfort continually as a god.

Now after the maids had bathed him and anointed him with olive oil, and hadcast a fair mantle and a doublet upon him, he stept forth from the bath, andwent to be with the chiefs at their wine. And Nausicaa, dowered with beauty bythe gods, stood by the pillar of the well-builded roof, and marvelled atOdysseus, beholding him before her eyes, and she uttered her voice and spake tohim winged words:

“Farewell, stranger, and even in thine own country bethink thee of meupon a time, for that to me first thou owest the ransom of life.”

And Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: “Nausicaa, daughter ofgreat-hearted Alcinous, yea, may Zeus, the thunderer, the lord of Here, grantme to reach my home and see the day of my returning; so would I, even there, dothee worship as to a god, all my days for evermore, for thou, lady, hast givenme my life.”

He spake and sat him in the high seat by king Alcinous. And now they wereserving out the portions and mixing the wine. Then the henchmen drew nighleading the sweet minstrel, Demodocus, that was had in honour of the people. Sohe set him in the midst of the feasters, and made him lean against a tallcolumn. Then to the henchman spake Odysseus of many counsels, for he had cutoff a portion of the chine of a white-toothed boar, whereon yet more was left,with rich fat on either side:

“Lo, henchman, take this mess, and hand it to Demodocus, that he may eat,and I will bid him hail, despite my sorrow. For minstrels from all men on earthget their meed of honour and worship; inasmuch as the Muse teacheth them thepaths of song, and loveth the tribe of minstrels.”

Thus he spake, and the henchman bare the mess, and set it upon the knees of thelord Demodocus, and he took it, and was glad at heart. Then they stretchedforth their hands upon the good cheer set before them. Now after they had putfrom them the desire of meat and drink, then Odysseus of many counsels spake toDemodocus, saying:

“Demodocus, I praise thee far above all mortal men, whether it be theMuse, the daughter of Zeus, that taught thee, or even Apollo, for right dulydost thou chant the faring of the Achaeans, even all that they wrought andsuffered, and all their travail, as if, methinks, thou hadst been present, orheard the tale from another. Come now, change thy strain, and sing of thefashioning of the horse of wood, which Epeius made by the aid of Athene, eventhe guileful thing, that goodly Odysseus led up into the citadel, when he hadladen it with the men who wasted Ilios. If thou wilt indeed rehearse me thisaright, so will I be thy witness among all men, how the god of his grace hathgiven thee the gift of wondrous song.”

So spake he, and the minstrel, being stirred by the god, began and showed forthhis minstrelsy. He took up the tale where it tells how the Argives of the onepart set fire to their huts, and went aboard their decked ships and sailedaway, while those others, the fellowship of renowned Odysseus, were now seatedin the assembly-place of the Trojans, all hidden in the horse, for the Trojansthemselves had dragged him to the citadel. So the horse stood there, whileseated all around him the people spake many things confusedly and three waystheir counsel looked; either to cleave the hollow timber with the pitilessspear, or to drag it to the brow of the hill, and hurl it from the rocks, or toleave it as a mighty offering to appease the gods. And on this wise it was tobe at the last. For the doom was on them to perish when their city should haveclosed upon the great horse of wood, wherein sat all the bravest of theArgives, bearing to the Trojans death and destiny. And he sang how the sons ofthe Achaeans poured forth from the horse, and left the hollow lair, and sackedthe burg. And he sang how and where each man wasted the town, and of Odysseus,how he went like Ares to the house of Deiphobus with godlike Menelaus. It wasthere, he said, that Odysseus adventured the most grievous battle, and in theend prevailed, by grace of great-hearted Athene.

This was the song that the famous minstrel sang. But the heart of Odysseusmelted, and the tear wet his cheeks beneath the eyelids. And as a woman throwsherself wailing about her dear lord, who hath fallen before his city and thehost, warding from his town and his children the pitiless day; and she beholdshim dying and drawing difficult breath, and embracing his body wails aloud,while the foemen behind smite her with spears on back and shoulders and leadher up into bondage, to bear labour and trouble, and with the most pitifulgrief her cheeks are wasted; even so pitifully fell the tears beneath the browsof Odysseus. Now none of all the company marked him weeping; but Alcinous alonenoted it, and was ware thereof, as he sat nigh him and heard him groaningheavily. And presently he spake among the Phaeacians, masters of the oar:

“Hearken, ye captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, and now letDemodocus hold his hand from the loud lyre, for this song of his is nowisepleasing alike to all. From the time that we began to sup, and that the divineminstrel was moved to sing, ever since hath yonder stranger never ceased fromwoeful lamentation: sore grief, methinks, hath encompassed his heart. Nay, butlet the minstrel cease, that we may all alike make merry, hosts and guest,since it is far meeter so. For all these things are ready for the sake of thehonourable stranger, even the convoy and the loving gifts which we give him outof our love. In a brother’s place stand the stranger and the suppliant,to him whose wits have even a little range, wherefore do thou too hide not nowwith crafty purpose aught whereof I ask thee; it were more meet for thee totell it out. Say, what is the name whereby they called thee at home, even thyfather and thy mother, and others thy townsmen and the dwellers round about?For there is none of all mankind nameless, neither the mean man nor yet thenoble, from the first hour of his birth, but parents bestow a name on every manso soon as he is born. Tell me too of thy land, thy township, and thy city,that our ships may conceive of their course to bring thee thither. For thePhaeacians have no pilots nor any rudders after the manner of other ships, buttheir barques themselves understand the thoughts and intents of men; they knowthe cities and fat fields of every people, and most swiftly they traverse thegulf of the salt sea, shrouded in mist and cloud, and never do they go in fearof wreck or ruin. Howbeit I heard upon a time this word thus spoken by myfather Nausithous, who was wont to say that Poseidon was jealous of us for thatwe give safe escort to all men. He said that the god would some day smite awell-wrought ship of the Phaeacians as she came home from a convoy over themisty deep, and would overshadow our city with a great mountain. Thus thatancient one would speak, and thus the god may bring it about, or leave itundone, according to the good pleasure of his will. But come now, declare methis and plainly tell it all; whither wast thou borne wandering, and to whatshores of men thou camest; tell me of the people and of their fair-lyingcities, of those whoso are hard and wild and unjust, and of those likewise whoare hospitable and of a god-fearing mind. Declare, too, wherefore thou dostweep and mourn in spirit at the tale of the faring of the Argive Danaans andthe lay of Ilios. All this the gods have fashioned, and have woven the skein ofdeath for men, that there might be a song in the ears even of the folk ofaftertime. Hadst thou even a kinsman by marriage that fell before Ilios, a trueman, a daughter’s husband or wife’s father, such as are nearest usafter those of our own stock and blood? Or else, may be, some loving friend, agood man and true; for a friend with an understanding heart is no whit worsethan a brother.”

BOOK IX.

Odysseus relates, first, what befell him amongst the Cicones at Ismarus;secondly, amongst the Lotophagi; thirdly, how he was used by the CyclopsPolyphemus.

And Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: “King Alcinous, most notableof all the people, verily it is a good thing to list to a minstrel such as thisone, like to the gods in voice. Nay, as for me, I say that there is no moregracious or perfect delight than when a whole people makes merry, and the mensit orderly at feast in the halls and listen to the singer, and the tables bythem are laden with bread and flesh, and a wine-bearer drawing the wine servesit round and pours it into the cups. This seems to me well-nigh the fairestthing in the world. But now thy heart was inclined to ask of my grievoustroubles, that I may mourn for more exceeding sorrow. What then shall I tell offirst, what last, for the gods of heaven have given me woes in plenty? Now,first, will I tell my name, that ye too may know it, and that I, when I haveescaped the pitiless day, may yet be your host, though my home is in a farcountry. I am ODYSSEUS, SON OFLAERTES, who am inmen’s minds for all manner of wiles, and my fame reaches unto heaven. And Idwell in clear-seen Ithaca, wherein is a mountain Neriton, with tremblingforest leaves, standing manifest to view, and many islands lie around, verynear one to the other, Dulichium and Same, and wooded Zacynthus. Now Ithacalies low, furthest up the sea-line toward the darkness, but those others facethe dawning and the sun: a rugged isle, but a good nurse of noble youths; andfor myself I can see nought beside sweeter than a man’s own country. VerilyCalypso, the fair goddess, would fain have kept me with her in her hollowcaves, longing to have me for her lord; and likewise too, guileful Circe ofAia, would have stayed me in her halls, longing to have me for her lord. Butnever did they prevail upon my heart within my breast. So surely is therenought sweeter than a man’s own country and his parents, even though he dwellfar off in a rich home, in a strange land, away from them that begat him. Butcome, let me tell thee too of the troubles of my journeying, which Zeus laid onme as I came from Troy.

“The wind that bare me from Ilios brought me nigh to the Cicones, even toIsmarus, whereupon I sacked their city and slew the people. And from out thecity we took their wives and much substance, and divided them amongst us, thatnone through me might go lacking his proper share. Howbeit, thereafter Icommanded that we should flee with a swift foot, but my men in their greatfolly hearkened not. There was much wine still a drinking, and still they slewmany flocks of sheep by the seashore and kine with trailing feet and shamblinggait. Meanwhile the Cicones went and raised a cry to other Cicones theirneighbours, dwelling inland, who were more in number than they and braverwithal: skilled they were to fight with men from chariots, and when need was onfoot. So they gathered in the early morning as thick as leaves and flowers thatspring in their season—yea and in that hour an evil doom of Zeus stood byus, ill-fated men, that so we might be sore afflicted. They set their battle inarray by the swift ships, and the hosts cast at one another with theirbronze-shod spears. So long as it was morn and the sacred day waxed stronger,so long we abode their assault and beat them off, albeit they outnumbered us.But when the sun was wending to the time of the loosing of cattle, then at lastthe Cicones drave in the Achaeans and overcame them, and six of mygoodly-greaved company perished from each ship: but the remnant of us escapeddeath and destiny.

“Thence we sailed onward stricken at heart, yet glad as men saved fromdeath, albeit we had lost our dear companions. Nor did my curved ships moveonward ere we had called thrice on each of those our hapless fellows, who diedat the hands of the Cicones on the plain. Now Zeus, gatherer of the clouds,aroused the North Wind against our ships with a terrible tempest, and coveredland and sea alike with clouds, and down sped night from heaven. Thus the shipswere driven headlong, and their sails were torn to shreds by the might of thewind. So we lowered the sails into the hold, in fear of death, but rowed theships landward apace. There for two nights and two days we lay continually,consuming our hearts with weariness and sorrow. But when the fair-tressed Dawnhad at last brought the full light of the third day, we set up the masts andhoisted the white sails and sat us down, while the wind and the helmsman guidedthe ships. And now I should have come to mine own country all unhurt, but thewave and the stream of the sea and the North Wind swept me from my course as Iwas doubling Malea, and drave me wandering past Cythera.

“Thence for nine whole days was I borne by ruinous winds over the teemingdeep; but on the tenth day we set foot on the land of the lotus-eaters, who eata flowery food. So we stepped ashore and drew water, and straightway my companytook their midday meal by the swift ships. Now when we had tasted meat anddrink I sent forth certain of my company to go and make search what manner ofmen they were who here live upon the earth by bread, and I chose out two of myfellows, and sent a third with them as herald. Then straightway they went andmixed with the men of the lotus-eaters, and so it was that the lotus-eatersdevised not death for our fellows, but gave them of the lotus to taste. Nowwhosoever of them did eat the honey-sweet fruit of the lotus, had no more wishto bring tidings nor to come back, but there he chose to abide with thelotus-eating men, ever feeding on the lotus, and forgetful of his homeward way.Therefore I led them back to the ships weeping, and sore against their will,and dragged them beneath the benches, and bound them in the hollow barques. ButI commanded the rest of my well-loved company to make speed and go on board theswift ships, lest haply any should eat of the lotus and be forgetful ofreturning. Right soon they embarked, and sat upon the benches, and sittingorderly they smote the grey sea water with their oars.

“Thence we sailed onward stricken at heart. And we came to the land ofthe Cyclôpes, a froward and a lawless folk, who trusting to the deathless godsplant not aught with their hands, neither plough: but, behold, all these thingsspring for them in plenty, unsown and untilled, wheat, and barley, and vines,which bear great clusters of the juice of the grape, and the rain of Zeus givesthem increase. These have neither gatherings for council nor oracles of law,but they dwell in hollow caves on the crests of the high hills, and each oneutters the law to his children and his wives, and they reck not one of another.

“Now there is a waste isle stretching without the harbour of the land ofthe Cyclôpes, neither nigh at hand nor yet afar off, a woodland isle, whereinare wild goats unnumbered, for no path of men scares them, nor do huntersresort thither who suffer hardships in the wood, as they range the mountaincrests. Moreover it is possessed neither by flocks nor by ploughed lands, butthe soil lies unsown evermore and untilled, desolate of men, and feeds thebleating goats. For the Cyclôpes have by them no ships with vermilion cheek,not yet are there shipwrights in the island, who might fashion decked barques,which should accomplish all their desire, voyaging to the towns of men (asofttimes men cross the sea to one another in ships), who might likewise havemade of their isle a goodly settlement. Yea, it is in no wise a sorry land, butwould bear all things in their season; for therein are soft water meadows bythe shores of the grey salt sea, and there the vines know no decay, and theland is level to plough; thence might they reap a crop exceeding deep in dueseason, for verily there is fatness beneath the soil. Also there is a fairhaven, where is no need of moorings, either to cast anchor or to fastenhawsers, but men may run the ship on the beach, and tarry until such time asthe sailors are minded to be gone, and favourable breezes blow. Now at the headof the harbour is a well of bright water issuing from a cave, and round it arepoplars growing. Thither we sailed, and some god guided us through the night,for it was dark and there was no light to see, a mist lying deep about theships, nor did the moon show her light from heaven, but was shut in withclouds. No man then beheld that island, neither saw we the long waves rollingto the beach, till we had run our decked ships ashore. And when our ships werebeached, we took down all their sails, and ourselves too stept forth upon thestrand of the sea, and there we fell into sound sleep and waited for the brightDawn.

“So soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, in wonder at theisland we roamed over the length thereof: and the Nymphs, the daughters ofZeus, lord of the aegis, started the wild goats of the hills, that my companymight have wherewith to sup. Anon we took to us our curved bows from out theships and long spears, and arrayed in three bands we began shooting at thegoats; and the god soon gave us game in plenty. Now twelve ships bare mecompany, and to each ship fell nine goats for a portion, but for me alone theyset ten apart.

“Thus we sat there the livelong day until the going down of the sun,feasting on abundant flesh and on sweet wine. For the red wine was not yetspent from out the ships, but somewhat was yet therein, for we had each onedrawn off large store thereof in jars, when we took the sacred citadel of theCicones. And we looked across to the land of the Cyclôpes, who dwell nigh, andto the smoke, and to the voice of the men, and of the sheep and of the goats.And when the sun had sunk and darkness had come on, then we laid us to restupon the sea-beach. So soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, thenI called a gathering of my men, and spake among them all:

“‘Abide here all the rest of you, my dear companions; but I will gowith mine own ship and my ship’s company, and make proof of these men,what manner of folk they are, whether froward, and wild, and unjust, orhospitable and of god-fearing mind.’

“So I spake, and I climbed the ship’s side, and bade my companythemselves to mount, and to loose the hawsers. So they soon embarked and satupon the benches, and sitting orderly smote the grey sea water with their oars.Now when we had come to the land that lies hard by, we saw a cave on the bordernear to the sea, lofty and roofed over with laurels, and there many flocks ofsheep and goats were used to rest. And about it a high outer court was builtwith stones, deep bedded, and with tall pines and oaks with their high crown ofleaves. And a man was wont to sleep therein, of monstrous size, who shepherdedhis flocks alone and afar, and was not conversant with others, but dwelt apartin lawlessness of mind. Yea, for he was a monstrous thing and fashionedmarvellously, nor was he like to any man that lives by bread, but like a woodedpeak of the towering hills, which stands out apart and alone from others.

“Then I commanded the rest of my well-loved company to tarry there by theship, and to guard the ship, but I chose out twelve men, the best of mycompany, and sallied forth. Now I had with me a goat-skin of the dark wine andsweet which Maron, son of Euanthes, had given me, the priest of Apollo, the godthat watched over Ismarus. And he gave it, for that we had protected him withhis wife and child reverently; for he dwelt in a thick grove of Phoebus Apollo.And he made me splendid gifts; he gave me seven talents of gold well wrought,and he gave me a mixing bowl of pure silver, and furthermore wine which he drewoff in twelve jars in all, sweet wine unmingled, a draught divine; nor did anyof his servants or of his handmaids in the house know thereof, but himself andhis dear wife and one housedame only. And as often as they drank that red winehoney sweet, he would fill one cup and pour it into twenty measures of water,and a marvellous sweet smell went up from the mixing bowl: then truly it was nopleasure to refrain.

“With this wine I filled a great skin, and bare it with me, and corn tooI put in a wallet, for my lordly spirit straightway had a boding that a manwould come to me, a strange man, clothed in mighty strength, one that knew notjudgment and justice.[16]

[16]Literally, knowing neither dooms, nor ordinances of law.

“Soon we came to the cave, but we found him not within; he wasshepherding his fat flocks in the pastures. So we went into the cave, and gazedon all that was therein. The