Translation of: The Odyssey of Homer: Book XIII

ARGUMENT     Ulysses, having finished his narrative, and received additional presents from the Phacians, embarks; he is conveyed in his sleep to Ithaca, and in his sleep is landed on that island. The ship that carried him is in her return transformed by Neptune to a rock.     Minerva meets him on the shore, enables him to recollect his country, which, till enlightened by her, he believed to be a country strange to him, and they concert together the means of destroying the suitors. The Goddess then repairs to Sparta to call thence Telemachus, and Ulysses, by her aid disguised like a beggar, proceeds towards the cottage of Eumus.             He ceas'd; the whole assembly silent sat,             Charm'd into ecstacy with his discourse             Throughout the twilight hall. Then, thus the King.                 Ulysses, since beneath my brazen dome             Sublime thou hast arrived, like woes, I trust,             Thou shalt not in thy voyage hence sustain             By tempests tost, though much to woe inured.             To you, who daily in my presence quaff             Your princely meed of gen'rous wine and hear             The sacred bard, my pleasure, thus I speak.             The robes, wrought gold, and all the other gifts             To this our guest, by the Phacian Chiefs             Brought hither in the sumptuous coffer lie.             But come--present ye to the stranger, each,             An ample tripod also, with a vase             Of smaller size, for which we will be paid             By public impost; for the charge of all             Excessive were by one alone defray'd.                 So spake Alcinos, and his counsel pleased;             Then, all retiring, sought repose at home.             But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,             Look'd rosy forth, each hasted to the bark             With his illustrious present, which the might             Of King Alcinos, who himself her sides             Ascended, safe beneath the seats bestowed,             Lest it should harm or hinder, while he toil'd             In rowing, some Phacian of the crew.             The palace of Alcinos seeking next,             Together, they prepared a new regale.                 For them, in sacrifice, the sacred might[59]             Of King Alcinos slew an ox to Jove             Saturnian, cloud-girt governor of all.             The thighs with fire prepared, all glad partook             The noble feast; meantime, the bard divine             Sang, sweet Demodocus, the people's joy.             But oft Ulysses to the radiant sun             Turn'd wistful eyes, anxious for his decline,             Nor longer, now, patient of dull delay.             As when some hungry swain whose sable beeves             Have through the fallow dragg'd his pond'rous plow             All day, the setting sun views with delight             For supper' sake, which with tir'd feet he seeks,             So welcome to Ulysses' eyes appear'd             The sun-set of that eve; directing, then,             His speech to maritime Phacia's sons,             But to Alcinos chiefly, thus he said.                 Alcinos, o'er Phacia's realm supreme!             Libation made, dismiss ye me in peace,             And farewell all! for what I wish'd, I have,             Conductors hence, and honourable gifts             With which heav'n prosper me! and may the Gods             Vouchsafe to me, at my return, to find             All safe, my spotless consort and my friends!             May ye, whom here I leave, gladden your wives             And see your children blest, and may the pow'rs             Immortal with all good enrich you all,             And from calamity preserve the land!                 He ended, they unanimous, his speech             Applauded loud, and bade dismiss the guest             Who had so wisely spoken and so well.             Then thus Alcinos to his herald spake.                 Pontonos! charging high the beaker, bear             To ev'ry guest beneath our roof the wine,             That, pray'r preferr'd to the eternal Sire,             We may dismiss our inmate to his home.                 Then, bore Pontonos to ev'ry guest             The brimming cup; they, where they sat, perform'd             Libation due; but the illustrious Chief             Ulysses, from his seat arising, placed             A massy goblet in Areta's hand,             To whom in accents wing'd, grateful, he said.                 Farewell, O Queen, a long farewell, till age             Arrive, and death, the appointed lot of all!             I go; but be this people, and the King             Alcinos, and thy progeny, thy joy             Yet many a year beneath this glorious roof!                 So saying, the Hero through the palace-gate             Issued, whom, by Alcinos' command,             The royal herald to his vessel led.             Three maidens also of Areta's train             His steps attended; one, the robe well-bleach'd             And tunic bore; the corded coffer, one;             And food the third, with wine of crimson hue.             Arriving where the galley rode, each gave             Her charge to some brave mariner on board,             And all was safely stow'd. Meantime were spread             Linen and arras on the deck astern,             For his secure repose. And now the Chief             Himself embarking, silent lay'd him down.             Then, ev'ry rower to his bench repair'd;             They drew the loosen'd cable from its hold             In the drill'd rock, and, resupine, at once             With lusty strokes upturn'd the flashing waves.             His eye-lids, soon, sleep, falling as a dew,             Closed fast, death's simular, in sight the same.             She, as four harness'd stallions o'er the plain             Shooting together at the scourge's stroke,             Toss high their manes, and rapid scour along,             So mounted she the waves, while dark the flood             Roll'd after her of the resounding Deep.             Steady she ran and safe, passing in speed             The falcon, swiftest of the fowls of heav'n;             With such rapidity she cut the waves,             An hero bearing like the Gods above             In wisdom, one familiar long with woe             In fight sustain'd, and on the perilous flood,             Though sleeping now serenely, and resign'd             To sweet oblivion of all sorrow past.             The brightest star of heav'n, precursor chief             Of day-spring, now arose, when at the isle             (Her voyage soon perform'd) the bark arrived.                 There is a port sacred in Ithaca             To Phorcys, hoary ancient of the Deep,             Form'd by converging shores, prominent both             And both abrupt, which from the spacious bay             Exclude all boist'rous winds; within it, ships             (The port once gain'd) uncabled ride secure.             An olive, at the haven's head, expands             Her branches wide, near to a pleasant cave             Umbrageous, to the nymphs devoted named             The Naiads. In that cave beakers of stone             And jars are seen; bees lodge their honey there;             And there, on slender spindles of the rock             The nymphs of rivers weave their wond'rous robes.             Perennial springs water it, and it shows             A twofold entrance; ingress one affords             To mortal man, which Northward looks direct,             But holier is the Southern far; by that             No mortal enters, but the Gods alone.             Familiar with that port before, they push'd             The vessel in; she, rapid, plow'd the sands             With half her keel, such rowers urged her on.             Descending from the well-bench'd bark ashore,             They lifted forth Ulysses first, with all             His splendid couch complete, then, lay'd him down             Still wrapt in balmy slumber on the sands.             His treasures, next, by the Phacian Chiefs             At his departure given him as the meed             Due to his wisdom, at the olive's foot             They heap'd, without the road, lest, while he slept             Some passing traveller should rifle them.             Then homeward thence they sped. Nor Ocean's God             His threats forgot denounced against divine             Ulysses, but with Jove thus first advised.                 Eternal Sire! I shall no longer share             Respect and reverence among the Gods,             Since, now, Phacia's mortal race have ceas'd             To honour me, though from myself derived.             It was my purpose, that by many an ill             Harass'd, Ulysses should have reach'd his home,             Although to intercept him, whose return             Thyself had promis'd, ne'er was my intent.             But him fast-sleeping swiftly o'er the waves             They have conducted, and have set him down             In Ithaca, with countless gifts enrich'd,             With brass, and tissued raiment, and with gold;             Much treasure! more than he had home convey'd             Even had he arrived with all his share             Allotted to him of the spoils of Troy.                 To whom the cloud-assembler God replied.             What hast thou spoken, Shaker of the shores,             Wide-ruling Neptune? Fear not; thee the Gods             Will ne'er despise; dangerous were the deed             To cast dishonour on a God by birth             More ancient, and more potent far than they.             But if, profanely rash, a mortal man             Should dare to slight thee, to avenge the wrong             Some future day is ever in thy pow'r.             Accomplish all thy pleasure, thou art free.                 Him answer'd, then, the Shaker of the shores.             Jove cloud-enthroned! that pleasure I would soon             Perform, as thou hast said, but that I watch             Thy mind continual, fearful to offend.             My purpose is, now to destroy amid             The dreary Deep yon fair Phacian bark,             Return'd from safe conveyance of her freight;             So shall they waft such wand'rers home no more,             And she shall hide their city, to a rock             Transform'd of mountainous o'ershadowing size.                 Him, then, Jove answer'd, gath'rer of the clouds.             Perform it, O my brother, and the deed             Thus done, shall best be done--What time the people             Shall from the city her approach descry,             Fix her to stone transform'd, but still in shape             A gallant bark, near to the coast, that all             May wonder, seeing her transform'd to stone             Of size to hide their city from the view.                 These words once heard, the Shaker of the shores             Instant to Scheria, maritime abode             Of the Phacians, went. Arrived, he watch'd.             And now the flying bark full near approach'd,             When Neptune, meeting her, with out-spread palm             Depress'd her at a stroke, and she became             Deep-rooted stone. Then Neptune went his way.             Phacia's ship-ennobled sons meantime             Conferring stood, and thus, in accents wing'd,             Th' amazed spectator to his fellow spake.                 Ah! who hath sudden check'd the vessel's course             Homeward? this moment she was all in view.                 Thus they, unconscious of the cause, to whom             Alcinos, instructing them, replied.                 Ye Gods! a prophecy now strikes my mind             With force, my father's. He was wont to say--             Neptune resents it, that we safe conduct             Natives of ev'ry region to their home.             He also spake, prophetic, of a day             When a Phacian gallant bark, return'd             After conveyance of a stranger hence,             Should perish in the dreary Deep, and changed             To a huge mountain, cover all the town.                 So spake my father, all whose words we see             This day fulfill'd. Thus, therefore, act we all             Unanimous; henceforth no longer bear             The stranger home, when such shall here arrive;             And we will sacrifice, without delay,             Twelve chosen bulls to Neptune, if, perchance,             He will commiserate us, and forbear             To hide our town behind a mountain's height.                 He spake, they, terrified, the bulls prepared.             Thus all Phacia's Senators and Chiefs             His altar compassing, in pray'r adored             The Ocean's God. Meantime, Ulysses woke,             Unconscious where; stretch'd on his native soil             He lay, and knew it not, long-time exiled.             For Pallas, progeny of Jove, a cloud             Drew dense around him, that, ere yet agnized             By others, he might wisdom learn from her,             Neither to citizens, nor yet to friends             Reveal'd, nor even to his own espoused,             Till, first, he should avenge complete his wrongs             Domestic from those suitors proud sustained.             All objects, therefore, in the Hero's eyes             Seem'd alien, foot-paths long, commodious ports,             Heav'n-climbing rocks, and trees of amplest growth.             Arising, fixt he stood, his native soil             Contemplating, till with expanded palms             Both thighs he smote, and, plaintive, thus began.                 Ah me! what mortal race inhabits here?             Rude are they, contumacious and unjust,             Or hospitable, and who fear the Gods?             Where now shall I secrete these num'rous stores?             Where wander I, myself? I would that still             Phacians own'd them, and I had arrived             In the dominions of some other King             Magnanimous, who would have entertain'd             And sent me to my native home secure!             Now, neither know I where to place my wealth,             Nor can I leave it here, lest it become             Another's prey. Alas! Phacia's Chiefs             Not altogether wise I deem or just,             Who have misplaced me in another land,             Promis'd to bear me to the pleasant shores             Of Ithaca, but have not so perform'd.             Jove, guardian of the suppliant's rights, who all             Transgressors marks, and punishes all wrong,             Avenge me on the treach'rous race!--but hold--             I will revise my stores, so shall I know             If they have left me here of aught despoiled.                 So saying, he number'd carefully the gold,             The vases, tripods bright, and tissued robes,             But nothing miss'd of all. Then he bewail'd             His native isle, with pensive steps and slow             Pacing the border of the billowy flood,             Forlorn; but while he wept, Pallas approach'd,             In form a shepherd stripling, girlish fair             In feature, such as are the sons of Kings;             A sumptuous mantle o'er his shoulders hung             Twice-folded, sandals his nice feet upbore,             And a smooth javelin glitter'd in his hand.             Ulysses, joyful at the sight, his steps             Turn'd brisk toward her, whom he thus address'd.                 Sweet youth! since thee, of all mankind, I first             Encounter in this land unknown, all hail!             Come not with purposes of harm to me!             These save, and save me also. I prefer             To thee, as to some God, my pray'r, and clasp             Thy knees a suppliant. Say, and tell me true,             What land? what people? who inhabit here?             Is this some isle delightful, or a shore             Of fruitful main-land sloping to the sea?                 Then Pallas, thus, Goddess crulean-eyed.             Stranger! thou sure art simple, or hast dwelt             Far distant hence, if of this land thou ask.             It is not, trust me, of so little note,             But known to many, both to those who dwell             Toward the sun-rise, and to others placed             Behind it, distant in the dusky West.             Rugged it is, not yielding level course             To the swift steed, and yet no barren spot,             However small, but rich in wheat and wine;             Nor wants it rain or fertilising dew,             But pasture green to goats and beeves affords,             Trees of all kinds, and fountains never dry.             Ithaca therefore, stranger, is a name             Known ev'n at Troy, a city, by report,             At no small distance from Achaia's shore.                 The Goddess ceased; then, toil-enduring Chief             Ulysses, happy in his native land,             (So taught by Pallas, progeny of Jove)             In accents wing'd her answ'ring, utter'd prompt             Not truth, but figments to truth opposite,             For guile, in him, stood never at a pause.                 O'er yonder flood, even in spacious Crete[60]             I heard of Ithaca, where now, it seems,             I have, myself, with these my stores arrived;             Not richer stores than, flying thence, I left             To my own children; for from Crete I fled             For slaughter of Orsilochus the swift,             Son of Idomeneus, whom none in speed             Could equal throughout all that spacious isle.             His purpose was to plunder me of all             My Trojan spoils, which to obtain, much woe             I had in battle and by storms endured,             For that I would not gratify his Sire,             Fighting beside him in the fields of Troy,             But led a diff'rent band. Him from the field             Returning homeward, with my brazen spear             I smote, in ambush waiting his return             At the road-side, with a confed'rate friend.             Unwonted darkness over all the heav'ns             That night prevailed, nor any eye of man             Observed us, but, unseen, I slew the youth.             No sooner, then, with my sharp spear of life             I had bereft him, than I sought a ship             Mann'd by renown'd Phacians, whom with gifts             Part of my spoils, and by requests, I won.             I bade them land me on the Pylian shore,             Or in fair Elis by th' Epeans ruled,             But they, reluctant, were by violent winds             Driv'n devious thence, for fraud they purposed none.             Thus through constraint we here arrived by night,             And with much difficulty push'd the ship             Into safe harbour, nor was mention made             Of food by any, though all needed food,             But, disembark'd in haste, on shore we lay.             I, weary, slept profound, and they my goods             Forth heaving from the bark, beside me placed             The treasures on the sea-beach where I slept,             Then, reimbarking, to the populous coast             Steer'd of Sidonia, and me left forlorn.                 He ceased; then smiled Minerva azure-eyed             And stroaked his cheek, in form a woman now,             Beauteous, majestic, in all elegant arts             Accomplish'd, and with accents wing'd replied.                 Who passes thee in artifice well-framed             And in imposture various, need shall find             Of all his policy, although a God.             Canst thou not cease, inventive as thou art             And subtle, from the wiles which thou hast lov'd             Since thou wast infant, and from tricks of speech             Delusive, even in thy native land?             But come, dismiss we these ingenious shifts             From our discourse, in which we both excel;             For thou of all men in expedients most             Abound'st and eloquence, and I, throughout             All heav'n have praise for wisdom and for art.             And know'st thou not thine Athenan aid,             Pallas, Jove's daughter, who in all thy toils             Assist thee and defend? I gave thee pow'r             T' engage the hearts of all Phacia's sons,             And here arrive ev'n now, counsels to frame             Discrete with thee, and to conceal the stores             Giv'n to thee by the rich Phacian Chiefs             On my suggestion, at thy going thence.             I will inform thee also what distress             And hardship under thy own palace-roof             Thou must endure; which, since constraint enjoins,             Bear patiently, and neither man apprize             Nor woman that thou hast arrived forlorn             And vagabond, but silent undergo             What wrongs soever from the hands of men.                 To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.             O Goddess! thou art able to elude,             Wherever met, the keenest eye of man,             For thou all shapes assum'st; yet this I know             Certainly, that I ever found thee kind,             Long as Achaia's Heroes fought at Troy;             But when (the lofty tow'rs of Priam laid             In dust) we re-embark'd, and by the will             Of heav'n Achaia's fleet was scatter'd wide,             Thenceforth, O daughter wise of Jove, I thee             Saw not, nor thy appearance in my ship             Once mark'd, to rid me of my num'rous woes,             But always bearing in my breast a heart             With anguish riv'n, I roam'd, till by the Gods             Relieved at length, and till with gracious words             Thyself didst in Phacia's opulent land             Confirm my courage, and becam'st my guide.             But I adjure thee in thy father's name--             O tell me truly, (for I cannot hope             That I have reach'd fair Ithaca; I tread             Some other soil, and thou affirm'st it mine             To mock me merely, and deceive) oh say--             Am I in Ithaca? in truth, at home?                 Thus then Minerva the crulean-eyed.             Such caution in thy breast always prevails             Distrustful; but I know thee eloquent,             With wisdom and with ready thought endued,             And cannot leave thee, therefore, thus distress'd             For what man, save Ulysses, new-return'd             After long wand'rings, would not pant to see             At once his home, his children, and his wife?             But thou preferr'st neither to know nor ask             Concerning them, till some experience first             Thou make of her whose wasted youth is spent             In barren solitude, and who in tears             Ceaseless her nights and woeful days consumes.             I ne'er was ignorant, but well foreknew             That not till after loss of all thy friends             Thou should'st return; but loth I was to oppose             Neptune, my father's brother, sore incensed             For his son's sake deprived of sight by thee.             But, I will give thee proof--come now--survey             These marks of Ithaca, and be convinced.                 This is the port of Phorcys, sea-born sage;             That, the huge olive at the haven's head;             Fast by it, thou behold'st the pleasant cove             Umbrageous, to the nymphs devoted named             The Naiads; this the broad-arch'd cavern is             Where thou wast wont to offer to the nymphs             Many a whole hecatomb; and yonder stands             The mountain Neritus with forests cloath'd.                 So saying, the Goddess scatter'd from before             His eyes all darkness, and he knew the land.             Then felt Ulysses, Hero toil-inured,             Transport unutterable, seeing plain             Once more his native isle. He kiss'd the glebe,             And with uplifted hands the nymphs ador'd.                 Nymphs, Naiads, Jove's own daughters! I despair'd             To see you more, whom yet with happy vows             I now can hail again. Gifts, as of old,             We will hereafter at your shrines present,             If Jove-born Pallas, huntress of the spoils,             Grant life to me, and manhood to my son.                 Then Pallas, blue-eyed progeny of Jove.             Take courage; trouble not thy mind with thoughts             Now needless. Haste--delay not--far within             This hallow'd cave's recess place we at once             Thy precious stores, that they may thine remain,             Then muse together on thy wisest course.                 So saying, the Goddess enter'd deep the cave             Caliginous, and its secret nooks explored             From side to side; meantime, Ulysses brought             All his stores into it, the gold, the brass,             And robes magnificent, his gifts received             From the Phacians; safe he lodg'd them all,             And Pallas, daughter of Jove gis-arm'd,             Closed fast, herself, the cavern with a stone.                 Then, on the consecrated olive's root             Both seated, they in consultation plann'd             The deaths of those injurious suitors proud,             And Pallas, blue-eyed Goddess, thus began.                 Laertes' noble son, Ulysses! think             By what means likeliest thou shalt assail             Those shameless suitors, who have now controuled             Three years thy family, thy matchless wife             With language amorous and with spousal gifts             Urging importunate; but she, with tears             Watching thy wish'd return, hope gives to all             By messages of promise sent to each,             Framing far other purposes the while.                 Then answer thus Ulysses wise return'd.             Ah, Agamemnon's miserable fate             Had surely met me in my own abode,             But for thy gracious warning, pow'r divine!             Come then--Devise the means; teach me, thyself,             The way to vengeance, and my soul inspire             With daring fortitude, as when we loos'd             Her radiant frontlet from the brows of Troy.             Would'st thou with equal zeal, O Pallas! aid             Thy servant here, I would encounter thrice             An hundred enemies, let me but perceive             Thy dread divinity my prompt ally.                 Him answer'd then Pallas crulean-eyed.             And such I will be; not unmark'd by me,             (Let once our time of enterprize arrive)             Shalt thou assail them. Many, as I judge,             Of those proud suitors who devour thy wealth             Shall leave their brains, then, on thy palace floor.             But come. Behold! I will disguise thee so             That none shall know thee! I will parch the skin             On thy fair body; I will cause thee shed             Thy wavy locks; I will enfold thee round             In such a kirtle as the eyes of all             Shall loath to look on; and I will deform             With blurring rheums thy eyes, so vivid erst;             So shall the suitors deem thee, and thy wife,             And thy own son whom thou didst leave at home,             Some sordid wretch obscure. But seek thou first             Thy swine-herd's mansion; he, alike, intends             Thy good, and loves, affectionate, thy son             And thy Penelope; thou shalt find the swain             Tending his herd; they feed beneath the rock             Corax, at side of Arethusa's fount,             On acorns dieted, nutritious food             To them, and drinking of the limpid stream.             There waiting, question him of thy concerns,             While I from Sparta praised for women fair             Call home thy son Telemachus, a guest             With Menelaus now, whom to consult             In spacious Lacedmon he is gone,             Anxious to learn if yet his father lives.                 To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.             And why, alas! all-knowing as thou art,             Him left'st thou ignorant? was it that he,             He also, wand'ring wide the barren Deep,             Might suffer woe, while these devour his wealth?                 Him answer'd then Pallas crulean-eyed.             Grieve thou not much for him. I sent him forth             Myself, that there arrived, he might acquire             Honour and fame. No suff'rings finds he there,             But in Atrides' palace safe resides,             Enjoying all abundance. Him, in truth,             The suitors watch close ambush'd on the Deep,             Intent to slay him ere he reach his home,             But shall not as I judge, till of themselves             The earth hide some who make thee, now, a prey.                 So saying, the Goddess touch'd him with a wand.             At once o'er all his agile limbs she parch'd             The polish'd skin; she wither'd to the root             His wavy locks; and cloath'd him with the hide             Deform'd of wrinkled age; she charged with rheums             His eyes before so vivid, and a cloak             And kirtle gave him, tatter'd, both, and foul,             And smutch'd with smoak; then, casting over all             An huge old deer-skin bald, with a long staff             She furnish'd him, and with a wallet patch'd             On all sides, dangling by a twisted thong.                 Thus all their plan adjusted, diff'rent ways             They took, and she, seeking Ulysses' son,             To Lacedmon's spacious realm repair'd.