CHAPTER XXIIITHE FALL OF TROY

AMAZON

Fig. 162. Achilles and Penthesilea

218. The Fall of Troy.The story of the Iliad ends with the death of Hector, and it is from the Odyssey and later poems that we learn the fate of the other heroes. After the death of Hector, Troy did not immediately fall, but receiving aid from new allies, still continued its resistance. One of these allies was Memnon, the Ethiopian prince, whose story has been already told.[311]Another was Penthesilea, queen of the Amazons, who came with a band of female warriors. All the authorities attest the valor of these women and the fearful effect of their war cry. Penthesilea, having slain many of the bravest Greeks, was at last slain by Achilles. But when the hero bent over his fallen foe and contemplated her beauty, youth, and valor, he bitterly regretted his victory. Thersites, the insolent brawler and demagogue, attempting to ridicule his grief, was in consequence slain by the hero.[312]

219. The Death of Achilles.But Achilles himself was not destined to a long life. Having by chance seen Polyxena, daughter of King Priam,—perhaps on occasion of the truce which was allowed the Trojans for the burial of Hector,—he was captivated with her charms; and to win her in marriage, it is said (but not by Homer) that he agreed to influence the Greeks to make peace with Troy. While the hero was in the temple of Apollo negotiatingthe marriage, Paris discharged at him a poisoned arrow,[313]which, guided by Apollo, fatally wounded him in the heel. This was his only vulnerable spot; for Thetis, having dipped him when an infant in the river Styx, had rendered every part of him invulnerable except that by which she held him.[314]

220. Contest for the Arms of Achilles.The body of Achilles so treacherously slain was rescued by Ajax and Ulysses. Thetis directed the Greeks to bestow her son's armor on that hero who of all survivors should be judged most deserving of it. Ajax and Ulysses were the only claimants. A select number of the other chiefs were appointed to award the prize. By the will of Minerva it was awarded to Ulysses,—wisdom being thus rated above valor. Ajax, enraged, set forth from his tent to wreak vengeance upon the Atridæ and Ulysses. But the goddess robbed him of reason and turned his hand against the flocks and herds of the Argives, which he slaughtered or led captive to his tent, counting them the rivals who had wronged him. Then the cruel goddess restored to him his wits. And he, fixing his sword in the ground, prepared to take his own life:

"Come and look on me,O Death, O Death,—and yet in yonder worldI shall dwell with thee, speak enough with thee;And thee I call, thou light of golden day,Thou Sun, who drivest on thy glorious car,Thee, for this last time,—never more again!O Light, O sacred land that was my home;O Salamis, where stands my father's hearth,Thou glorious Athens, with thy kindred race;Ye streams and rivers here, and Troïa's plains,To you that fed my life I bid farewell;This last, last word does Ajax speak to you;All else, I speak in Hades to the dead."[3]

Then, falling upon his sword, he died. So, in the words of his magnanimous foe, Ulysses, passed to the god that ruleth in gloom

The best and bravest of the Argive host,Of all that came to Troïa, saving one,Achilles' self.[315]

On the spot where his blood sank into the earth a hyacinth sprang up, bearing on its leaves the first two letters of his name, Ai, the Greek interjection of woe.[316]

Fig. 163. Œnone warning Paris

It was now discovered that Troy could not be taken but by the aid of the arrows of Hercules. They were in possession of Philoctetes, the friend who had been with Hercules at the last and had lighted his funeral pyre. Philoctetes[317]had joined the Grecian expedition against Troy; but he accidentally wounded his foot with one of the poisoned arrows, and the smell from the wound proved so offensive that his companions carried him to the isle of Lemnos and left him there. Diomede and Ulysses, or Ulysses and Neoptolemus (son of Achilles), were now sent to induce him to rejoin the army. They succeeded. Philoctetes was cured of his wound by Machaon, and Paris was the first victim of the fatal arrows.

221. Paris and Œnone.In his distress Paris bethought him of one whom in his prosperity he had forgotten. This was the nymph Œnone, whom he had married when a youth and had abandoned for the fatal beauty of Helen. Œnone, remembering the wrongs she had suffered, refused to heal the wound; and Paris went back to Troy and died. Œnone quickly repented and hastened after him with remedies, but came too late, and in her grief hanged herself.

222. The Palladium.There was in Troy a celebrated statue of Minerva called the Palladium. It was said to have fallen from heaven, and the belief was that the city could not be taken so long as this statue remained within it. Ulysses and Diomede entered the city in disguise and succeeded in obtaining the Palladium, which they carried off to the Grecian camp.

Fig. 164. The Wooden Horse

223. The Wooden Horse.But Troy still held out. The Greeks began to despair of subduing it by force, and by advice of Ulysses they resorted to stratagem.[318]They pretended to be making preparations to abandon the siege; and a number of the ships were withdrawn and concealed behind a neighboring island. They then constructed an immense wooden horse, which they gave out was intended as a propitiatory offering to Minerva; but it was, in fact, filled with armed men. The rest of the Greeks then betook themselves to their ships and sailed away, as if for a final departure. The Trojans, seeing the encampment broken up and the fleet gone, concluded that the enemy had abandoned the siege. The gates of the city were thrown open, and the whole population issued forth, rejoicing at the long-prohibited liberty of passing freely over the scene of the late encampment. The great horse was the chief object of curiosity. Some recommended that it be taken into the city as a trophy; others felt afraid of it. While they hesitated, Laocoön, the priest of Neptune, exclaimed, "What madness, citizens, is this! Have you not learned enough of Grecian fraud to be on your guard against it? For my part, I fear the Greeks even when they offer gifts."[319]So saying, he threw his lance at the horse's side. It struck, and a hollow sound reverberated like a groan. Then perhaps the people might have taken his advice and destroyed the fatal horse with its contents, but just at that moment a group of people appeared dragging forward one who seemed a prisoner and a Greek. Stupefied with terror, the captive was brought before the chiefs. He informed them that he was a Greek, Sinon by name; and that in consequence of the malice of Ulysses, he had been left behind by his countrymen at their departure. With regard to the wooden horse, he told them that it was a propitiatory offering to Minerva, and had been made so huge for the express purpose of preventing its being carried within the city; for Calchas the prophet had told them that if the Trojans took possession of it, they would assuredly triumph over the Greeks.

LAOCOÖN

224. Laocoön and the Serpents.This language turned the tide of the people's feelings, and they began to think how they might best secure the monstrous horse and the favorable auguries connected with it, when suddenly a prodigy occurred which left no room for doubt. There appeared advancing over the sea two immense serpents. They came upon the land and the crowd fled in all directions. The serpents advanced directly to the spot where Laocoön stood with his two sons. They first attacked the children, winding round their bodies and breathing pestilential breath in their faces. The father, attempting to rescue them, was next seized and involved in the serpent's coils.

... VainThe struggle; vain, against the coiling strainAnd gripe, and deepening of the dragon's grasp,The old man's clinch; the long envenomed chainRivets the living links,—the enormous aspEnforces pang on pang, and stifles gasp on gasp.[320]

He struggled to tear them away, but they overpowered all his efforts and strangled him and the children in their poisonous folds. The event was regarded as a clear indication of the displeasure of the gods at Laocoön's irreverent treatment of the wooden horse, which they no longer hesitated to regard as a sacred object and prepared to introduce with due solemnity into the city. They did so with songs and triumphal acclamations, and the day closed with festivity. In the night the armed men who were inclosed in the body of the horse, being let out by the traitor Sinon, opened the gates of the city to their friends who had returned under cover of the night. The city was set on fire; the people, overcome with feasting and sleep, were put to the sword, and Troy completely subdued.

Fig. 165. The Sack of Troy(Left half)

Fig. 165. The Sack of Troy

(Left half)

225. The Death of Priam.Priam lived to see the downfall of his kingdom and was slain at last on the fatal night when the Greeks took the city. He had armed himself and was about to mingle with the combatants,[321]but was prevailed on by Hecuba to take refuge with his daughters and herself as a suppliant at the altar of Jupiter. While there, his youngest son, Polites, pursued by Pyrrhus, the son of Achilles, rushed in wounded and expiredat the feet of his father; whereupon Priam, overcome with indignation, hurled his spear with feeble hand against Pyrrhus and was forthwith slain by him.

Fig. 166. The Sack of Troy(Right half)

Fig. 166. The Sack of Troy

(Right half)

226. The Survivors.[322]Queen Hecuba and her daughter Cassandra were carried captives to Greece. Cassandra had been loved by Apollo, who gave her the gift of prophecy; but afterwards offended with her, he had rendered the gift unavailing by ordaining that her predictions should never be believed. Polyxena, another daughter, who had been loved by Achilles, was demanded by the ghost of that warrior and was sacrificed by the Greeks upon his tomb. Of the fate of the white-armed Andromache we have already spoken. She was carried off as the wife of Neoptolemus, but he was faithful to her for only a short time. After he had cast her aside she married Helenus, a brother of Hector, and still later returned to Asia Minor.

227. Helen, Menelaüs, and Agamemnon.On the fall of Troy, Menelaüs recovered possession of his wife, who, it seems, had not ceased to love him, though she had yielded to the might of Venus and deserted him for another.[323]After the death of Paris, she aidedthe Greeks secretly on several occasions: in particular when Ulysses and Diomede entered the city in disguise to carry off the Palladium. She then saw and recognized Ulysses, but kept the secret and even assisted them in obtaining the image. Thus she became reconciled to Menelaüs, and they were among the first to leave the shores of Troy for their native land. But having incurred the displeasure of the gods, they were driven by storms from shore to shore of the Mediterranean, visiting Cyprus, Phœnicia, and Egypt. In Egypt they were kindly treated and presented with rich gifts, of which Helen's share was a golden spindle and a basket on wheels.

... Many yet adhereTo the ancient distaff at the bosom fixed,Casting the whirling spindle as they walk.... This was of old, in no inglorious days,The mode of spinning, when the Egyptian princeA golden distaff gave that beauteous nymph,Too beauteous Helen; no uncourtly gift.[324]

Milton also alludes to a famous recipe for an invigorating draft, called Nepenthe, which the Egyptian queen gave to Helen:

Not that Nepenthes which the wife of ThoneIn Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena,Is of such power to stir up joy as this,To life so friendly or so cool to thirst.[325]

At last, arriving in safety at Sparta, Menelaüs and Helen resumed their royal dignity, and lived and reigned in splendor; and when Telemachus, the son of Ulysses, in search of his father, arrived at Sparta, he found them celebrating the marriage of their daughter Hermione to Neoptolemus, son of Achilles.

Agamemnon[326]was not so fortunate in the issue. During his absence his wife Clytemnestra had been false to him; and when his return was expected, she with her paramour, Ægisthus, son of Thyestes, laid a plan for his destruction. Cassandra warned the king, but as usual her prophecy was not regarded. While Agamemnon was bathing previous to the banquet given to celebrate his return, the conspirators murdered him.

Fig. 167. Orestes and Electra at the Tombof Agamemnon

228. Electra and Orestes.It was the intention of the conspirators to slay his son Orestes also, a lad not yet old enough to be an object of apprehension, but from whom, if he should be suffered to grow up, there might be danger. Electra, the sister of Orestes, saved her brother's life by sending him secretly to his uncle Strophius, king of Phocis. In the palace of Strophius, Orestes grew up with the king's son Pylades, and formed with him a friendship which has become proverbial. Electra frequently reminded her brother by messengers of the duty of avenging his father's death; he, too, when he reached maturity, consulted the oracle of Delphi, which confirmed him in the design. He therefore repaired in disguise to Argos, pretending to be a messenger from Strophius, who would announce the death of Orestes. He brought with him what purported to be the ashes of the deceased in a funeral urn. After visiting his father's tomb and sacrificing upon it, according to the rites of the ancients, he met by the way his sister Electra. Mistaking her for one of the domestics, and desirous of keeping his arrival a secret till the hour of vengeance should arrive, he produced the urn. At once his sister, believing Orestes to be really dead, took the urn from him, and, embracing it, poured forth her grief in language full of tenderness and despair. Soon a recognition was effected, and the prince, with the aid of his sister, slew both Ægisthus and Clytemnestra.[327]

Fig. 168. Orestes pursued by Furies

229. Orestes pursued by the Furies.[328]This revolting act, the slaughter of a mother by her son, though extenuated by the guilt of the victim and the express command of the gods, did not fail to awaken in the breasts of the ancients the same abhorrence that it does in ours. The Eumenides seized upon Orestes and drove him frantic from land to land. In these wanderings Pylades accompanied him and watched over him. At length in answer to a second appeal to the oracle, Orestes was directed to go to the temple of the Tauri in Scythia and to bring thence a statue of Diana which was believed to have fallen from heaven. Accordingly the friends went to the Tauric Chersonese. Since there the barbarous people were accustomed to sacrifice to the goddess all strangers who fell into their hands, the two friends were seized and carried bound to the temple to be made victims. But the priestess of Diana of the Tauri was no other than Iphigenia, the sister of Orestes, who had been snatched away by Diana at the moment when she was about to be sacrificed. Ascertaining from the prisoners who they were, Iphigenia disclosed herself to them; and the three made their escape with the statue of the goddess, and returned to Mycenæ.[329]

Fig. 169. Orestes and Pylades before theKing of the Tauri

230. His Purification.But Orestes was not yet relieved from the vengeance of the Erinyes. Finally, he took refuge with Minerva at Athens. The goddess afforded him protection and appointed the court of Areopagus to decide his fate. The Erinyes brought their accusation, and Orestes pleaded the command of the Delphic oracle as his excuse. When the court voted and the voices were equally divided, Orestes was acquitted by the command of Minerva. He was then purified with plentiful blood of swine.

FOOTNOTES:[311]§ 128.[312]Pausanias, 5, 11, § 2; and Sophocles, Philoctetes, 445.[313]Virgil, Æneid, 6, 57.[314]Statius, Achilleid, 1, 269.[315]Sophocles, Ajax.[316]See Commentary.[317]Servius Honoratus, Commentary on Æneid (3, 402). According to Sophocles (Philoctetes), the wound was occasioned by the bite of a serpent that guarded the shrine of the nymph Chryse, on an islet of the same name near Lemnos.[318]Virgil, Æneid, 2.[319]Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes.—Æneid. 2, 49.[320]Byron, Childe Harold.[321]Hecuba's exclamation, "Not such aid nor such defenders does the time require," has become proverbial.Non tali auxilio nec defensoribus istisTempus eget.—Æneid, 2, 521.[322]Euripides,—Troades, Hecuba, Andromache.[323]According to Euripides (Helen), and Stesichorus, it was a semblance of Helen that Paris won; the real Helen went to Egypt.[324]Dyer, The Fleece.[325]Milton, Comus.[326]Æschylus, Agamemnon.[327]Æschylus, Choëphori; Sophocles, Electra; Euripides,—Electra, Orestes.[328]Æschylus, Eumenides.[329]Euripides, Iphigenia among the Tauri.

[311]§ 128.

[312]Pausanias, 5, 11, § 2; and Sophocles, Philoctetes, 445.

[313]Virgil, Æneid, 6, 57.

[314]Statius, Achilleid, 1, 269.

[315]Sophocles, Ajax.

[316]See Commentary.

[317]Servius Honoratus, Commentary on Æneid (3, 402). According to Sophocles (Philoctetes), the wound was occasioned by the bite of a serpent that guarded the shrine of the nymph Chryse, on an islet of the same name near Lemnos.

[318]Virgil, Æneid, 2.

[319]Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes.—Æneid. 2, 49.

[320]Byron, Childe Harold.

[321]Hecuba's exclamation, "Not such aid nor such defenders does the time require," has become proverbial.Non tali auxilio nec defensoribus istisTempus eget.—Æneid, 2, 521.

[321]Hecuba's exclamation, "Not such aid nor such defenders does the time require," has become proverbial.

Non tali auxilio nec defensoribus istisTempus eget.—Æneid, 2, 521.

[322]Euripides,—Troades, Hecuba, Andromache.

[323]According to Euripides (Helen), and Stesichorus, it was a semblance of Helen that Paris won; the real Helen went to Egypt.

[324]Dyer, The Fleece.

[325]Milton, Comus.

[326]Æschylus, Agamemnon.

[327]Æschylus, Choëphori; Sophocles, Electra; Euripides,—Electra, Orestes.

[328]Æschylus, Eumenides.

[329]Euripides, Iphigenia among the Tauri.

Fig. 170. Ulysses

As one that for a weary space has lainLulled by the song of Circe and her wineIn 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 brineSalt on his lips, and the large air again,So, gladly, from the songs of modern speechMen turn and see the stars, and feel the freeShrill wind beyond the close of heavy flowers;And, through the music of the languid hours,They hear like ocean on a western beachThe surge and thunder of the Odyssey.[330]

231. From Troy to Phæacia.The Odyssey of Homer narrates the wanderings of Ulysses (Odysseus) in his return from Troy to his own kingdom, Ithaca.[331]

From Troy the vessels first made land at Ismarus, city of the Ciconians, where, in a skirmish with the inhabitants, Ulysses lost six men from each ship.[332]

THE OUTER GEOGRAPHY OF THE ODYSSEY ACCORDING TO GLADSTONE.

232. The Lotus-eaters.Sailing thence they were overtaken by a storm which drove them for nine days till they reached the country of the Lotos-eaters. Here, after watering, Ulysses sent three of his men to discover who the inhabitants were. These men on coming among the Lotos-eaters were kindly entertained by them and were given some of their own food, the lotos plant, to eat. The effect of this food was such that those who partook of it lost all thought of home and wished to remain in that country. It was by main force that Ulysses dragged these men away, and he was even obliged to tie them under the benches of his ship.

Tennyson in The Lotos-eaters has fittingly expressed the dreamy, languid feeling which the lotus-food is said to have produced.

... How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream,With half-shut eyes ever to seemFalling asleep in a half-dream!To dream and dream, like yonder amber lightWhich will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height;To hear each other's whisper'd speech;Eating the Lotos, day by day,To watch the crisping ripples on the beach,And tender curving lines of creamy spray;To lend our hearts and spirits whollyTo the influence of mild-minded melancholy;To muse and brood and live again in memory,With those old faces of our infancyHeap'd over with a mound of grass,Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass!Dear is the memory of our wedded lives,And dear the last embraces of our wivesAnd their warm tears: but all hath suffer'd change;For surely now our household hearths are cold:Our sons inherit us: our looks are strange:And we should come like ghosts to trouble joy.... But, propt on beds of amaranth and moly,How sweet (while warm airs lull us, blowing lowly)With half-dropt eyelid still,Beneath a heaven dark and holy,To watch the long bright river drawing slowlyHis waters from the purple hill—To hear the dewy echoes callingFrom cave to cave thro' the thick-twined vine—To watch the emerald-color'd water fallingThro' many a wov'n acanthus-wreath divine!Only to hear and see the far-off sparkling brine,Only to hear were sweet, stretch'd out beneath the pine.The Lotos blooms below the barren peak:The Lotos blows by every winding creek:All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone:Thro' every hollow cave and alley loneRound and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust is blown.We have had enough of action, and of motion we,Roll'd to starboard, roll'd to larboard, when the surge was seething free,Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam-fountains in the sea.Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind,In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclinedOn the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind....

Dear is the memory of our wedded lives,And dear the last embraces of our wivesAnd their warm tears: but all hath suffer'd change;For surely now our household hearths are cold:Our sons inherit us: our looks are strange:And we should come like ghosts to trouble joy.

... But, propt on beds of amaranth and moly,How sweet (while warm airs lull us, blowing lowly)With half-dropt eyelid still,Beneath a heaven dark and holy,To watch the long bright river drawing slowlyHis waters from the purple hill—To hear the dewy echoes callingFrom cave to cave thro' the thick-twined vine—To watch the emerald-color'd water fallingThro' many a wov'n acanthus-wreath divine!Only to hear and see the far-off sparkling brine,Only to hear were sweet, stretch'd out beneath the pine.

The Lotos blooms below the barren peak:The Lotos blows by every winding creek:All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone:Thro' every hollow cave and alley loneRound and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust is blown.We have had enough of action, and of motion we,Roll'd to starboard, roll'd to larboard, when the surge was seething free,Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam-fountains in the sea.Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind,In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclinedOn the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind....

233. The Cyclopes.They next arrived at the country of the Cyclopes. The Cyclopes[333]inhabited an island of which they were the only possessors. They dwelt in caves and fed on the wild productions of the island and on what their flocks yielded, for they were shepherds. Ulysses left the main body of his ships at anchor, and with one vessel went to the Cyclopes' island to explore for supplies. He landed with his companions, carrying with them a jar of wine for a present. Coming to a large cave they entered it, and, finding no one within, examined its contents. They found it stored with the riches of the flock, quantities of cheese, pails and bowls of milk, lambs and kids in their pens, all in good order. Presently arrived the master of the cave, Polyphemus, bearing an immense bundle of firewood, which he threw down before the cavern's mouth. He then drove into the cave the sheep and goats to be milked, and, entering, rolled to the cave's mouth an enormous rock, that twenty oxen could not draw. Next he sat down and milked his ewes, preparing a part for cheese and setting the rest aside for his customary drink. Then turning round his one huge eye he discerned the strangers, and growled out at them, demanding who they were and where from. Ulysses replied most humbly, stating that they were Greeks from the great expeditionthat had lately won so much glory in the conquest of Troy, that they were now on their way home, and finished by imploring his hospitality in the name of the gods. Polyphemus deigned no answer, but reaching out his hand seized two of the men, whom he hurled against the side of the cave and dashed out their brains. He proceeded to devour them with great relish, and having made a hearty meal, stretched himself on the floor to sleep. Ulysses was tempted to seize the opportunity and plunge his sword into him as he slept, but recollected that it would only expose them all to certain destruction, as the rock with which the giant had closed up the door was far beyond their power to remove, and they would therefore be in hopeless imprisonment.

Next morning the giant seized two more of the men and dispatched them in the same manner as their companions, feasting on their flesh till no fragment was left. He then moved away the rock from the door, drove out his flocks, and went out, carefully replacing the barrier after him. When he was gone Ulysses planned how he might take vengeance for his murdered friends and effect his escape with his surviving companions. He made his men prepare a massive bar of wood cut by the Cyclops for a staff, which they found in the cave. They sharpened the end of the staff and seasoned it in the fire, and hid it under the straw on the cavern floor. Then four of the boldest were selected, with whom Ulysses joined himself as a fifth. The Cyclops came home at evening, rolled away the stone, and drove in his flock as usual. After milking them and making his arrangements as before, he seized two more of Ulysses' companions, dashed their brains out, and made his evening meal upon them as he had on the others. After he had supped, Ulysses approaching him handed him a bowl of wine, saying, "Cyclops, this is wine; taste and drink after thy meal of man's flesh." He took and drank it, and was hugely delighted with it, and called for more. Ulysses supplied him once and again, which pleased the giant so much that he promised him as a favor that he should be the last of the party devoured. He asked his name, to which Ulysses replied, "My name is Noman."

After his supper the giant sought his repose, and was soon sound asleep. Then Ulysses with his four select friends held theend of the stake in the fire till it was one burning coal, then poising it exactly above the giant's only eye, they plunged it deep into the socket, twirling it round as a carpenter does his auger. The howling monster with his outcry filled the cavern, and Ulysses with his aids nimbly got out of his way and concealed themselves in the cave. He, bellowing, called aloud on all the Cyclopes dwelling in the caves around him, far and near. They, on his cry, flocked round the den, and inquired what grievous hurt had caused him to sound such an alarm and break their slumbers. He replied, "O friends, I die, and Noman gives the blow." They answered, "If no man hurts thee, it is the stroke of Jove, and thou must bear it." So saying, they left him groaning.

Fig. 171. Boring out the Cyclops' Eye

Next morning the Cyclops rolled away the stone to let his flock out to pasture, but planted himself in the door of the cave to feel of all as they went out, that Ulysses and his men should not escape with them. But Ulysses had made his men harness the rams of the flock three abreast, with osiers which they found on the floor of the cave. To the middle ram of the three one of the Greeks suspended himself, so protected by the exterior rams on either side. As they passed, the giant felt of the animals' backs and sides, but never thought of their bellies; so the men all passed safe, Ulysses himself being on the last one that passed. When they had got a few paces from the cavern, Ulysses and his friends released themselves from their rams and drove a good part of theflock down to the shore to their boat. They put them aboard with all haste, then pushed off from the shore; and when at a safe distance Ulysses shouted out, "Cyclops, the gods have well requited thee for thy atrocious deeds. Know it is Ulysses to whom thou owest thy shameful loss of sight." The Cyclops, hearing this, seized a rock that projected from the side of the mountain, and rending it from its bed, he lifted it high in the air, then exerting all his force, hurled it in the direction of the voice. Down came the mass, just forward of the vessel. The ocean, at the plunge of the huge rock, heaved the ship toward Polyphemus; but a second rock which he hurled, striking aft, propelled them fortunately in the direction that they desired to take. Ulysses was about to hail the giant again, but his friends besought him not to do so. He could not forbear, however, letting the giant know that they had escaped his missile, but waited till they had reached a safer distance than before. The giant answered them with curses, while Ulysses and his friends, plying their oars vigorously, regained their companions.

Fig. 172. Ulysses and Two Companions underRams

234. The Bag of Winds.Ulysses next arrived at the island of Æolus.[334]He treated Ulysses hospitably, and at his departure gave him, tied up in a leathern bag with a silver string, such winds as might be hurtful and dangerous, commanding fair winds to blow the barks toward their country. Nine days they sped before the wind, and all that time Ulysses had stood at the helm without sleep. At last quite exhausted he lay down to sleep. While he slept, the crew conferred together about the mysterious bag, and concluded it must contain treasures given by the hospitable King Æolus to their commander. Tempted to secure some portion for themselves, they loosed the string, when immediately the winds rushed forth. The ships were driven far from theircourse and back again to the island they had just left. Æolus, indignant at their folly, refused to assist them further, and they were obliged to labor over their course once more by means of their oars.

235. The Læstrygonians.Their next adventure was with the barbarous tribe of Læstrygonians. The vessels all pushed into the harbor, tempted by the secure appearance of the cove, completely landlocked; only Ulysses moored his vessel without. As soon as the Læstrygonians found the ships completely in their power, they attacked them, heaving huge stones which broke and overturned them, while with their spears they dispatched the seamen as they struggled in the water. All the vessels with their crews were destroyed, except Ulysses' own ship which had remained outside. He, finding no safety but in flight, exhorted his men to ply their oars vigorously; and they escaped.

236. The Isle of Ææa.With grief for their slain companions mixed with joy at their own escape, they pursued their way till they arrived at the Ææan isle, where Circe dwelt, the daughter of the sun. Landing here, Ulysses climbed a hill and, gazing round, saw no signs of habitation except in one spot at the center of the island, where he perceived a palace embowered with trees. He sent forward one half of his crew, under the command of Eurylochus, to see what prospect of hospitality they might find. As they approached the palace, they found themselves surrounded by lions, tigers, and wolves, not fierce, but tamed by Circe's art, for she was a powerful magician. These animals had once been men, but had been changed by Circe's enchantments into the forms of beasts. The sounds of soft music were heard from within, and a sweet female voice singing. Eurylochus called aloud, and the goddess came forth and invited them in; they all gladly entered except Eurylochus, who suspected danger. The goddess conducted her guests to a seat, and had them served with wine and other delicacies. When they had feasted heartily, she touched them one by one with her wand, and they became immediately changed into swine, in "head, body, voice, and bristles," yet with their intellects as before. She shut them in her styes and supplied them with acorns and such other things as swine love.

Eurylochus hurried back to the ship and told the tale. Ulysses thereupon determined to go himself and try if by any means he might deliver his companions. As he strode onward alone, he met a youth who addressed him familiarly, appearing to be acquainted with his adventures. He announced himself as Mercury, and informed Ulysses of the arts of Circe and of the danger of approaching her. As Ulysses was not to be dissuaded from his attempt, Mercury provided him with a sprig of the plant Moly, of wonderful power to resist sorceries, and instructed him how to act.

Fig. 173. The Castle of Circe

Meanwhile the companions of Ulysses made mournful plaint to their cruel mistress:

Huddling they came, with shag sides caked of mire,—With hoofs fresh sullied from the troughs o'er-turned,—With wrinkling snouts,—yet eyes in which desireOf some strange thing unutterably burned,Unquenchable; and still where'er She turnedThey rose about her, striving each o'er each,With restless, fierce importuning that yearnedThrough those brute masks some piteous tale to teach,Yet lacked the words thereto, denied the power of speech....... "If swine we be,—if we indeed be swine,Daughter of Persé, make us swine indeed,Well-pleased on litter-straw to lie supine,—Well-pleased on mast and acorn-shales to feed,Stirred by all instincts of the bestial breed;But O Unmerciful! O Pitiless!Leave us not thus with sick men's hearts to bleed!—To waste long days in yearning, dumb distress,And memory of things gone, and utter hopelessness!... "Make thou us men again,—if men but gropingThat dark Hereafter which th' Olympians keep;Make thou us men again,—if men but hopingBehind death's doors security of sleep;—For yet to laugh is somewhat, and to sleep;—To feel delight of living, and to plowThe salt-blown acres of the shoreless deep;—Better,—yea better far all these than bowFoul faces to foul earth, and yearn—as we do now!"So they in speech unsyllabled. But She,The fair-tressed Goddess, born to be their bane,Uplifting straight her wand of ivory,Compelled them groaning to the styes again;Where they in hopeless bitterness were fainTo rend the oaken woodwork as before,And tear the troughs in impotence of pain,—Not knowing, they, that even at the doorDivine Odysseus stood,—as Hermes told of yore.[335]

... "If swine we be,—if we indeed be swine,Daughter of Persé, make us swine indeed,Well-pleased on litter-straw to lie supine,—Well-pleased on mast and acorn-shales to feed,Stirred by all instincts of the bestial breed;But O Unmerciful! O Pitiless!Leave us not thus with sick men's hearts to bleed!—To waste long days in yearning, dumb distress,And memory of things gone, and utter hopelessness!

... "Make thou us men again,—if men but gropingThat dark Hereafter which th' Olympians keep;Make thou us men again,—if men but hopingBehind death's doors security of sleep;—For yet to laugh is somewhat, and to sleep;—To feel delight of living, and to plowThe salt-blown acres of the shoreless deep;—Better,—yea better far all these than bowFoul faces to foul earth, and yearn—as we do now!"

So they in speech unsyllabled. But She,The fair-tressed Goddess, born to be their bane,Uplifting straight her wand of ivory,Compelled them groaning to the styes again;Where they in hopeless bitterness were fainTo rend the oaken woodwork as before,And tear the troughs in impotence of pain,—Not knowing, they, that even at the doorDivine Odysseus stood,—as Hermes told of yore.[335]

Ulysses, reaching the palace, was courteously received by Circe, who entertained him as she had done his companions, but after he had eaten and drunk, touched him with her wand, saying, "Hence, seek the stye and wallow with thy friends." But he, instead of obeying, drew his sword and rushed upon her with fury in his countenance. She fell on her knees and begged for mercy.

He dictated a solemn oath that she would release his companions and practice no further harm against him or them; and she repeated it, at the same time promising to dismiss them all in safety after hospitably entertaining them. She was as good as her word. The men were restored to their shapes, the rest of the crew summoned from the shore, and all magnificently entertained day after day, till Ulysses seemed to have forgotten his native land and to have reconciled himself to an inglorious life of ease and pleasure.

237. Ulysses visits Hades.At length his companions recalled him to nobler sentiments, and he received their admonition gratefully. Circe, won over by his prayers, consented to send him on his homeward way. But she warned him that first he must perform another journey, must visit the Underworld and there learn from the shade of Tiresias, the blind prophet of Thebes, the way and measure of his path, and how to proceed to Ithaca over the teeming deep.

"But who will guide us?" queried Ulysses in amaze; "for no man ever yet sailed to hell in a black ship."

"Son of Laërtes," replied the Goddess, "Ulysses of many devices, nay, trouble not thyself for want of a guide, by thy ship abiding, but set up the mast and spread abroad the white sails and sit thee down; and the breeze of the North Wind will bear thy vessel on her way. But when thou hast now sailed in thy ship across the stream Oceanus where is a waste shore and the groves of Persephone, even tall poplar trees and willows that shed their fruit before the season, there beach thy ship by deep-eddying Oceanus, but go thyself to the dank house of Hades. Thereby into Acheron flows Pyriphlegethon, and Cocytus, a branch of the water of the Styx; and there is a rock, and the meeting of the two roaring waters. There dig a trench and pour a drink offering to all the dead, mead and sweet wine and water, sprinkling white meal thereon. And when thou hast prayed to them, offer up a ram and a black ewe. Then will many spirits come to thee of the dead that be departed; but thou shalt draw thy sharp sword and suffer them not to approach the blood, ere thou hast word of Tiresias."[336]

So Ulysses and his companions did as they were bid. And the ship came to the limits of the world, to the deep-flowing Oceanus. There is the land and city of the Cimmerians, where no ray of sunshine ever falls, but deadly night is outspread over miserable mortals. And there Ulysses and those with him performed the drink offering and the prayer and the sacrifice; and Ulysses fended off the spirits of the dead from the blood until the soul of the Theban prophet arrived. And that one, having drunk of the dark blood, declared unto Ulysses the future of his way: how the Earthshaker, god of the waters, should oppose him, but how he should win home without further disaster if, when passing the isle Thrinacia, he would but restrain the spirit of his men so that they should do no injury to the cattle of the Sun grazing thereon. If, however, these cattle were not respected but hurt, then there should follow ruin for both ship and men; and Ulysses himself on the ship of strangers should return late in time to his home, to find sorrows there, proud men wasting his patrimony and wooing his godlike wife to wed her. But that he should avenge their violence, and settle his affairs at home, and then betake himself again to wandering; and that from the sea should his own death come,—"the gentlest death that may be, which shall end thee fordone with smooth old age; and the folk shall dwell happily around thee."

In the land of Hades, Ulysses saw also the shade of his mother, and spoke with her of his father and of Penelope, his wife, and of his son Telemachus. And he saw also the shades of Antiope and Alcmene and Phædra and Procris; and of Agamemnon, and Achilles, and Ajax, the son of Telamon, and of many others, and spoke with them of their own fates and of the affairs of the upper world.

238. The Sirens.Returning from the abode of the shades, Ulysses revisited the Ææan isle and recounted to Circe his adventures and the wondrous visions and the laws of Hell. She in return speeded his homeward voyage, instructing him particularly how to pass safely by the coast of the Sirens.[337]

These nymphs had the power, as has been already said, of charming by their song all who heard them, so that marinerswere impelled to cast themselves into the sea to destruction. Circe directed Ulysses to stop the ears of his seamen with wax, so that they should not hear the strain; to have himself bound to the mast, and to enjoin his people, whatever he might say or do, by no means to release him till they should have passed the Sirens' island. Ulysses obeyed these directions. As they approached the Sirens' island, the sea was calm, and over the waters came notes of music so ravishing and attractive that Ulysses struggled to get loose and, by cries and signs to his people, begged to be released; but they, obedient to his previous orders, sprang forward and bound him still faster. They held on their course, and the music grew fainter till it ceased to be heard, when with joy Ulysses gave his companions the signal to unseal their ears; and they relieved him from his bonds. It is said that one of the Sirens, Parthenope, in grief at the escape of Ulysses drowned herself. Her body was cast up on the Italian shore where now stands the city of Naples, in early times called by the Siren's name.

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