BOOK VII

BOOK VIIARGUMENTNausicaa returns from the river, whom Ulysses follows. He halts, by her direction, at a small distance from the palace, which at a convenient time he enters. He is well received by Alcinoüs and his Queen; and having related to them the manner of his being cast on the shore of Scheria, and received from Alcinoüs the promise of safe conduct home, retires to rest.Such pray’r Ulysses, toil-worn Chief renown’d,To Pallas made, meantime the virgin, drawnBy her stout mules, Phæacia’s city reach’d,And, at her father’s house arrived, the carStay’d in the vestibule; her brothers five,All godlike youths, assembling quick around,Released the mules, and bore the raiment in.Meantime, to her own chamber she return’d,Where, soon as she arrived, an antient dameEurymedusa, by peculiar charge10Attendant on that service, kindled fire.Sea-rovers her had from Epirus broughtLong since, and to Alcinoüs she had fall’nBy public gift, for that he ruled, supreme,Phæacia, and as oft as he haranguedThe multitude, was rev’renced as a God.She waited on the fair Nausicaa, sheHer fuel kindled, and her food prepared.And now Ulysses from his seat aroseTo seek the city, around whom, his guard20Benevolent, Minerva, cast a cloud,Lest, haply, some Phæacian should presumeT’ insult the Chief, and question whence he came.But ere he enter’d yet the pleasant town,Minerva azure-eyed met him, in formA blooming maid, bearing her pitcher forth.She stood before him, and the noble ChiefUlysses, of the Goddess thus enquired.Daughter! wilt thou direct me to the houseOf brave Alcinoüs, whom this land obeys?30For I have here arrived, after long toil,And from a country far remote, a guestTo all who in Phæacia dwell, unknown.To whom the Goddess of the azure-eyes.The mansion of thy search, stranger revered!Myself will shew thee; for not distant dwellsAlcinoüs from my father’s own abode:But hush! be silent—I will lead the way;Mark no man; question no man; for the sightOf strangers is unusual here, and cold40The welcome by this people shown to such.They, trusting in swift ships, by the free grantOf Neptune traverse his wide waters, borneAs if on wings, or with the speed of thought.So spake the Goddess, and with nimble paceLed on, whose footsteps he, as quick, pursued.But still the seaman-throng through whom he pass’dPerceiv’d him not; Minerva, Goddess dread,That sight forbidding them, whose eyes she dimm’dWith darkness shed miraculous around50Her fav’rite Chief. Ulysses, wond’ring, mark’dTheir port, their ships, their forum, the resortOf Heroes, and their battlements sublimeFenced with sharp stakes around, a glorious show!But when the King’s august abode he reach’d,Minerva azure-eyed, then, thus began.My father! thou behold’st the house to whichThou bad’st me lead thee. Thou shalt find our ChiefsAnd high-born Princes banqueting within.But enter fearing nought, for boldest men60Speed ever best, come whencesoe’er they may.First thou shalt find the Queen, known by her nameAreta; lineal in descent from thoseWho gave Alcinoüs birth, her royal spouse.Neptune begat Nausithoüs, at the first,On Peribæa, loveliest of her sex,Latest-born daughter of Eurymedon,Heroic King of the proud giant race,Who, losing all his impious people, sharedThe same dread fate himself. Her Neptune lov’d,70To whom she bore a son, the mighty princeNausithoüs, in his day King of the land.Nausithoüs himself two sons begat,Rhexenor and Alcinoüs. Phoebus slewRhexenor at his home, a bridegroom yet,Who, father of no son, one daughter left,Areta, wedded to Alcinoüs now,And whom the Sov’reign in such honour holds,As woman none enjoys of all on earthExisting, subjects of an husband’s pow’r.80Like veneration she from all receivesUnfeign’d, from her own children, from himselfAlcinoüs, and from all Phæacia’s race,Who, gazing on her as she were divine,Shout when she moves in progress through the town.For she no wisdom wants, but sits, herself,Arbitress of such contests as ariseBetween her fav’rites, and decides aright.Her count’nance once and her kind aid secured,Thou may’st thenceforth expect thy friends to see,90Thy dwelling, and thy native soil again.So Pallas spake, Goddess cærulean-eyed,And o’er the untillable and barren DeepDeparting, Scheria left, land of delight,Whence reaching Marathon, and Athens next,She pass’d into Erectheus’ fair abode.Ulysses, then, toward the palace movedOf King Alcinoüs, but immers’d in thoughtStood, first, and paused, ere with his foot he press’dThe brazen threshold; for a light he saw100As of the sun or moon illuming clearThe palace of Phæacia’s mighty King.Walls plated bright with brass, on either sideStretch’d from the portal to th’ interior house,With azure cornice crown’d; the doors were goldWhich shut the palace fast; silver the postsRear’d on a brazen threshold, and above,The lintels, silver, architraved with gold.Mastiffs, in gold and silver, lined the approachOn either side, by art celestial framed110Of Vulcan, guardians of Alcinoüs’ gateFor ever, unobnoxious to decay.Sheer from the threshold to the inner houseFixt thrones the walls, through all their length, adorn’d,With mantles overspread of subtlest warpTransparent, work of many a female hand.On these the princes of Phæacia sat,Holding perpetual feasts, while golden youthsOn all the sumptuous altars stood, their handsWith burning torches charged, which, night by night,120Shed radiance over all the festive throng.Full fifty female menials serv’d the KingIn household offices; the rapid millsThese turning, pulverize the mellow’d grain,Those, seated orderly, the purple fleeceWind off, or ply the loom, restless as leavesOf lofty poplars fluttering in the breeze;Bright as with oil the new-wrought texture shone.25Far as Phæacian mariners all elseSurpass, the swift ship urging through the floods,130So far in tissue-work the women passAll others, by Minerva’s self endow’dWith richest fancy and superior skill.Without the court, and to the gates adjoin’dA spacious garden lay, fenced all aroundSecure, four acres measuring complete.There grew luxuriant many a lofty tree,Pomegranate, pear, the apple blushing bright,The honied fig, and unctuous olive smooth.Those fruits, nor winter’s cold nor summer’s heat140Fear ever, fail not, wither not, but hangPerennial, whose unceasing zephyr breathesGently on all, enlarging these, and thoseMaturing genial; in an endless coursePears after pears to full dimensions swell,Figs follow figs, grapes clust’ring grow againWhere clusters grew, and (ev’ry apple stript)The boughs soon tempt the gath’rer as before.There too, well-rooted, and of fruit profuse,His vineyard grows; part, wide-extended, basks,150In the sun’s beams; the arid level glows;In part they gather, and in part they treadThe wine-press, while, before the eye, the grapesHere put their blossom forth, there, gather fastTheir blackness. On the garden’s verge extremeFlow’rs of all hues smile all the year, arrangedWith neatest art judicious, and amidThe lovely scene two fountains welling forth,One visits, into ev’ry part diffus’d,The garden-ground, the other soft beneath160The threshold steals into the palace-court,Whence ev’ry citizen his vase supplies.Such were the ample blessings on the houseOf King Alcinoüs by the Gods bestow’d.Ulysses wond’ring stood, and when, at length,Silent he had the whole fair scene admired,With rapid step enter’d the royal gate.The Chiefs he found and Senators withinLibation pouring to the vigilant spyMercurius, whom with wine they worshipp’d last170Of all the Gods, and at the hour of rest.Ulysses, toil-worn Hero, through the housePass’d undelaying, by Minerva thickWith darkness circumfus’d, till he arrivedWhere King Alcinoüs and Areta sat.Around Areta’s knees his arms he cast,And, in that moment, broken clear awayThe cloud all went, shed on him from above.Dumb sat the guests, seeing the unknown Chief,And wond’ring gazed. He thus his suit preferr’d.180Areta, daughter of the Godlike PrinceRhexenor! suppliant at thy knees I fall,Thy royal spouse imploring, and thyself,(After ten thousand toils) and these your guests,To whom heav’n grant felicity, and to leaveTheir treasures to their babes, with all the rightsAnd honours, by the people’s suffrage, theirs!But oh vouchsafe me, who have wanted longAnd ardent wish’d my home, without delaySafe conduct to my native shores again!190Such suit he made, and in the ashes satAt the hearth-side; they mute long time remain’d,Till, at the last, the antient Hero spakeEcheneus, eldest of Phæacia’s sons,With eloquence beyond the rest endow’d,Rich in traditionary lore, and wiseIn all, who thus, benevolent, began.Not honourable to thyself, O King!Is such a sight, a stranger on the groundAt the hearth-side seated, and in the dust.200Meantime, thy guests, expecting thy command,Move not; thou therefore raising by his handThe stranger, lead him to a throne, and bidThe heralds mingle wine, that we may pourTo thunder-bearing Jove, the suppliant’s friend.Then let the cat’ress for thy guest produceSupply, a supper from the last regale.Soon as those words Alcinoüs heard, the King,Upraising by his hand the prudent ChiefUlysses from the hearth, he made him sit,210On a bright throne, displacing for his sakeLaodamas his son, the virtuous youthWho sat beside him, and whom most he lov’d.And now, a maiden charg’d with golden ew’rAnd with an argent laver, pouring, first,Pure water on his hands, supply’d him, next,With a resplendent table, which the chasteDirectress of the stores furnish’d with breadAnd dainties, remnants of the last regale.Then ate the Hero toil-inured, and drank,220And to his herald thus Alcinoüs spake.Pontonoüs! mingling wine, bear it aroundTo ev’ry guest in turn, that we may pourTo thunder-bearer Jove, the stranger’s friend,And guardian of the suppliant’s sacred rights.He said; Pontonoüs, as he bade, the wineMingled delicious, and the cups dispensedWith distribution regular to all.When each had made libation, and had drunkSufficient, then, Alcinoüs thus began.230Phæacian Chiefs and Senators, I speakThe dictates of my mind, therefore attend!Ye all have feasted—To your homes and sleep.We will assemble at the dawn of dayMore senior Chiefs, that we may entertainThe stranger here, and to the Gods performDue sacrifice; the convoy that he asksShall next engage our thoughts, that free from painAnd from vexation, by our friendly aidHe may revisit, joyful and with speed,240His native shore, however far remote.No inconvenience let him feel or harm,Ere his arrival; but, arrived, thenceforthHe must endure whatever lot the FatesSpun for him in the moment of his birth.But should he prove some Deity from heav’nDescended, then the Immortals have in viewDesigns not yet apparent; for the GodsHave ever from of old reveal’d themselvesAt our solemnities, have on our seats250Sat with us evident, and shared the feast;And even if a single travellerOf the Phæacians meet them, all reserveThey lay aside; for with the Gods we boastAs near affinity as do themselvesThe Cyclops, or the Giant race profane.26To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.Alcinoüs! think not so. Resemblance noneIn figure or in lineaments I bearTo the immortal tenants of the skies,260But to the sons of earth; if ye have knownA man afflicted with a weight of woePeculiar, let me be with him compared;Woes even passing his could I relate,And all inflicted on me by the Gods.But let me eat, comfortless as I am,Uninterrupted; for no call is loudAs that of hunger in the ears of man;Importunate, unreas’nable, it constrainsHis notice, more than all his woes beside.270So, I much sorrow feel, yet not the lessHear I the blatant appetite demandDue sustenance, and with a voice that drownsE’en all my suff’rings, till itself be fill’d.But expedite ye at the dawn of dayMy safe return into my native land,After much mis’ry; and let life itselfForsake me, may I but once more beholdAll that is mine, in my own lofty abode.He spake, whom all applauded, and advised,280Unanimous, the guest’s conveyance home,Who had so fitly spoken. When, at length,All had libation made, and were sufficed,Departing to his house, each sought repose.But still Ulysses in the hall remain’d,Where, godlike King, Alcinoüs at his sideSat, and Areta; the attendants clear’dMeantime the board, and thus the Queen white-arm’d,(Marking the vest and mantle, which he woreAnd which her maidens and herself had made)290In accents wing’d with eager haste began.Stranger! the first enquiry shall be mine;Who art, and whence? From whom receiv’dst thou these?Saidst not—I came a wand’rer o’er the Deep?To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.Oh Queen! the task were difficult to unfoldIn all its length the story of my woes,For I have num’rous from the Gods receiv’d;But I will answer thee as best I may.There is a certain isle, Ogygia, placed300Far distant in the Deep; there dwells, by manAlike unvisited, and by the Gods,Calypso, beauteous nymph, but deeply skill’dIn artifice, and terrible in pow’r,Daughter of Atlas. Me alone my fateHer miserable inmate made, when JoveHad riv’n asunder with his candent boltMy bark in the mid-sea. There perish’d allThe valiant partners of my toils, and IMy vessel’s keel embracing day and night310With folded arms, nine days was borne along.But on the tenth dark night, as pleas’d the Gods,They drove me to Ogygia, where residesCalypso, beauteous nymph, dreadful in pow’r;She rescued, cherish’d, fed me, and her wishWas to confer on me immortal life,Exempt for ever from the sap of age.But me her offer’d boon sway’d not. Sev’n yearsI there abode continual, with my tearsBedewing ceaseless my ambrosial robes,320Calypso’s gift divine; but when, at length,(Sev’n years elaps’d) the circling eighth arrived,She then, herself, my quick departure thenceAdvised, by Jove’s own mandate overaw’d,Which even her had influenced to a change.On a well-corded raft she sent me forthWith num’rous presents; bread she put and wineOn board, and cloath’d me in immortal robes;She sent before me also a fair windFresh-blowing, but not dang’rous. Sev’nteen days330I sail’d the flood continual, and descried,On the eighteenth, your shadowy mountains tallWhen my exulting heart sprang at the sight,All wretched as I was, and still ordain’dTo strive with difficulties many and hardFrom adverse Neptune; he the stormy windsExciting opposite, my wat’ry wayImpeded, and the waves heav’d to a bulkImmeasurable, such as robb’d me soonDeep-groaning, of the raft, my only hope;340For her the tempest scatter’d, and myselfThis ocean measur’d swimming, till the windsAnd mighty waters cast me on your shore.Me there emerging, the huge waves had dash’dFull on the land, where, incommodious most,The shore presented only roughest rocks,But, leaving it, I swam the Deep again,Till now, at last, a river’s gentle streamReceiv’d me, by no rocks deform’d, and whereNo violent winds the shelter’d bank annoy’d.350I flung myself on shore, exhausted, weak,Needing repose; ambrosial night came on,When from the Jove-descended stream withdrawn,I in a thicket lay’d me down on leavesWhich I had heap’d together, and the GodsO’erwhelm’d my eye-lids with a flood of sleep.There under wither’d leaves, forlorn, I sleptAll the long night, the morning and the noon,But balmy sleep, at the decline of day,Broke from me; then, your daughter’s train I heard360Sporting, with whom she also sported, fairAnd graceful as the Gods. To her I kneel’d.She, following the dictates of a mindIngenuous, pass’d in her behaviour allWhich even ye could from an age like hersHave hoped; for youth is ever indiscrete.She gave me plenteous food, with richest wineRefresh’d my spirit, taught me where to bathe,And cloath’d me as thou seest; thus, though a preyTo many sorrows, I have told thee truth.370To whom Alcinoüs answer thus return’d.My daughter’s conduct, I perceive, hath beenIn this erroneous, that she led thee notHither, at once, with her attendant train,For thy first suit was to herself alone.Thus then Ulysses, wary Chief, replied.Blame not, O Hero, for so slight a causeThy faultless child; she bade me follow them,But I refused, by fear and awe restrain’d,Lest thou should’st feel displeasure at that sight380Thyself; for we are all, in ev’ry clime,Suspicious, and to worst constructions prone.So spake Ulysses, to whom thus the King.I bear not, stranger! in my breast an heartCauseless irascible; for at all timesA temp’rate equanimity is best.And oh, I would to heav’n, that, being suchAs now thou art, and of one mind with me,Thou would’st accept my daughter, would’st becomeMy son-in-law, and dwell contented here!390House would I give thee, and possessions too,Were such thy choice; else, if thou chuse it not,No man in all Phæacia shall by forceDetain thee. Jupiter himself forbid!For proof, I will appoint thee convoy henceTo-morrow; and while thou by sleep subduedShalt on thy bed repose, they with their oarsShall brush the placid flood, till thou arriveAt home, or at what place soe’er thou would’st,Though far more distant than Eubœa lies,400Remotest isle from us, by the reportOf ours, who saw it when they thither boreGolden-hair’d Rhadamanthus o’er the Deep,To visit earth-born Tityus. To that isleThey went; they reach’d it, and they brought him thenceBack to Phæacia, in one day, with ease.Thou also shalt be taught what ships I boastUnmatch’d in swiftness, and how far my crewsExcel, upturning with their oars the brine.He ceas’d; Ulysses toil-inur’d his words410Exulting heard, and, praying, thus replied.Eternal Father! may the King performHis whole kind promise! grant him in all landsA never-dying name, and grant to meTo visit safe my native shores again!Thus they conferr’d; and now Areta badeHer fair attendants dress a fleecy couchUnder the portico, with purple rugsResplendent, and with arras spread beneath,And over all with cloaks of shaggy pile.420Forth went the maidens, bearing each a torch,And, as she bade, prepared in haste a couchOf depth commodious, then, returning, gaveUlysses welcome summons to repose.Stranger! thy couch is spread. Hence to thy rest.So they—Thrice grateful to his soul the thoughtSeem’d of repose. There slept Ulysses, then,On his carv’d couch, beneath the portico,But in the inner-house Alcinoüs foundHis place of rest, and hers with royal state430Prepared, the Queen his consort, at his side.25Καιροσέων δ’ οθονεων ἀπολείβεται ὑγρον ἔλαιον.Pope has given no translation of this line in the text of his work, but has translated it in a note. It is variously interpreted by commentators; the sense which is here given of it is that recommended by Eustathius.26The Scholiast explains the passage thus—We resemble the Gods in righteousness as much as the Cyclops and Giants resembled each other in impiety. But in this sense of it there is something intricate and contrary to Homer’s manner. We have seen that they derived themselves from Neptune, which sufficiently justifies the above interpretation.

Nausicaa returns from the river, whom Ulysses follows. He halts, by her direction, at a small distance from the palace, which at a convenient time he enters. He is well received by Alcinoüs and his Queen; and having related to them the manner of his being cast on the shore of Scheria, and received from Alcinoüs the promise of safe conduct home, retires to rest.

Such pray’r Ulysses, toil-worn Chief renown’d,To Pallas made, meantime the virgin, drawnBy her stout mules, Phæacia’s city reach’d,And, at her father’s house arrived, the carStay’d in the vestibule; her brothers five,All godlike youths, assembling quick around,Released the mules, and bore the raiment in.Meantime, to her own chamber she return’d,Where, soon as she arrived, an antient dameEurymedusa, by peculiar charge10Attendant on that service, kindled fire.Sea-rovers her had from Epirus broughtLong since, and to Alcinoüs she had fall’nBy public gift, for that he ruled, supreme,Phæacia, and as oft as he haranguedThe multitude, was rev’renced as a God.She waited on the fair Nausicaa, sheHer fuel kindled, and her food prepared.And now Ulysses from his seat aroseTo seek the city, around whom, his guard20Benevolent, Minerva, cast a cloud,Lest, haply, some Phæacian should presumeT’ insult the Chief, and question whence he came.But ere he enter’d yet the pleasant town,Minerva azure-eyed met him, in formA blooming maid, bearing her pitcher forth.She stood before him, and the noble ChiefUlysses, of the Goddess thus enquired.Daughter! wilt thou direct me to the houseOf brave Alcinoüs, whom this land obeys?30For I have here arrived, after long toil,And from a country far remote, a guestTo all who in Phæacia dwell, unknown.To whom the Goddess of the azure-eyes.The mansion of thy search, stranger revered!Myself will shew thee; for not distant dwellsAlcinoüs from my father’s own abode:But hush! be silent—I will lead the way;Mark no man; question no man; for the sightOf strangers is unusual here, and cold40The welcome by this people shown to such.They, trusting in swift ships, by the free grantOf Neptune traverse his wide waters, borneAs if on wings, or with the speed of thought.So spake the Goddess, and with nimble paceLed on, whose footsteps he, as quick, pursued.But still the seaman-throng through whom he pass’dPerceiv’d him not; Minerva, Goddess dread,That sight forbidding them, whose eyes she dimm’dWith darkness shed miraculous around50Her fav’rite Chief. Ulysses, wond’ring, mark’dTheir port, their ships, their forum, the resortOf Heroes, and their battlements sublimeFenced with sharp stakes around, a glorious show!But when the King’s august abode he reach’d,Minerva azure-eyed, then, thus began.My father! thou behold’st the house to whichThou bad’st me lead thee. Thou shalt find our ChiefsAnd high-born Princes banqueting within.But enter fearing nought, for boldest men60Speed ever best, come whencesoe’er they may.First thou shalt find the Queen, known by her nameAreta; lineal in descent from thoseWho gave Alcinoüs birth, her royal spouse.Neptune begat Nausithoüs, at the first,On Peribæa, loveliest of her sex,Latest-born daughter of Eurymedon,Heroic King of the proud giant race,Who, losing all his impious people, sharedThe same dread fate himself. Her Neptune lov’d,70To whom she bore a son, the mighty princeNausithoüs, in his day King of the land.Nausithoüs himself two sons begat,Rhexenor and Alcinoüs. Phoebus slewRhexenor at his home, a bridegroom yet,Who, father of no son, one daughter left,Areta, wedded to Alcinoüs now,And whom the Sov’reign in such honour holds,As woman none enjoys of all on earthExisting, subjects of an husband’s pow’r.80Like veneration she from all receivesUnfeign’d, from her own children, from himselfAlcinoüs, and from all Phæacia’s race,Who, gazing on her as she were divine,Shout when she moves in progress through the town.For she no wisdom wants, but sits, herself,Arbitress of such contests as ariseBetween her fav’rites, and decides aright.Her count’nance once and her kind aid secured,Thou may’st thenceforth expect thy friends to see,90Thy dwelling, and thy native soil again.So Pallas spake, Goddess cærulean-eyed,And o’er the untillable and barren DeepDeparting, Scheria left, land of delight,Whence reaching Marathon, and Athens next,She pass’d into Erectheus’ fair abode.Ulysses, then, toward the palace movedOf King Alcinoüs, but immers’d in thoughtStood, first, and paused, ere with his foot he press’dThe brazen threshold; for a light he saw100As of the sun or moon illuming clearThe palace of Phæacia’s mighty King.Walls plated bright with brass, on either sideStretch’d from the portal to th’ interior house,With azure cornice crown’d; the doors were goldWhich shut the palace fast; silver the postsRear’d on a brazen threshold, and above,The lintels, silver, architraved with gold.Mastiffs, in gold and silver, lined the approachOn either side, by art celestial framed110Of Vulcan, guardians of Alcinoüs’ gateFor ever, unobnoxious to decay.Sheer from the threshold to the inner houseFixt thrones the walls, through all their length, adorn’d,With mantles overspread of subtlest warpTransparent, work of many a female hand.On these the princes of Phæacia sat,Holding perpetual feasts, while golden youthsOn all the sumptuous altars stood, their handsWith burning torches charged, which, night by night,120Shed radiance over all the festive throng.Full fifty female menials serv’d the KingIn household offices; the rapid millsThese turning, pulverize the mellow’d grain,Those, seated orderly, the purple fleeceWind off, or ply the loom, restless as leavesOf lofty poplars fluttering in the breeze;Bright as with oil the new-wrought texture shone.25Far as Phæacian mariners all elseSurpass, the swift ship urging through the floods,130So far in tissue-work the women passAll others, by Minerva’s self endow’dWith richest fancy and superior skill.Without the court, and to the gates adjoin’dA spacious garden lay, fenced all aroundSecure, four acres measuring complete.There grew luxuriant many a lofty tree,Pomegranate, pear, the apple blushing bright,The honied fig, and unctuous olive smooth.Those fruits, nor winter’s cold nor summer’s heat140Fear ever, fail not, wither not, but hangPerennial, whose unceasing zephyr breathesGently on all, enlarging these, and thoseMaturing genial; in an endless coursePears after pears to full dimensions swell,Figs follow figs, grapes clust’ring grow againWhere clusters grew, and (ev’ry apple stript)The boughs soon tempt the gath’rer as before.There too, well-rooted, and of fruit profuse,His vineyard grows; part, wide-extended, basks,150In the sun’s beams; the arid level glows;In part they gather, and in part they treadThe wine-press, while, before the eye, the grapesHere put their blossom forth, there, gather fastTheir blackness. On the garden’s verge extremeFlow’rs of all hues smile all the year, arrangedWith neatest art judicious, and amidThe lovely scene two fountains welling forth,One visits, into ev’ry part diffus’d,The garden-ground, the other soft beneath160The threshold steals into the palace-court,Whence ev’ry citizen his vase supplies.Such were the ample blessings on the houseOf King Alcinoüs by the Gods bestow’d.Ulysses wond’ring stood, and when, at length,Silent he had the whole fair scene admired,With rapid step enter’d the royal gate.The Chiefs he found and Senators withinLibation pouring to the vigilant spyMercurius, whom with wine they worshipp’d last170Of all the Gods, and at the hour of rest.Ulysses, toil-worn Hero, through the housePass’d undelaying, by Minerva thickWith darkness circumfus’d, till he arrivedWhere King Alcinoüs and Areta sat.Around Areta’s knees his arms he cast,And, in that moment, broken clear awayThe cloud all went, shed on him from above.Dumb sat the guests, seeing the unknown Chief,And wond’ring gazed. He thus his suit preferr’d.180Areta, daughter of the Godlike PrinceRhexenor! suppliant at thy knees I fall,Thy royal spouse imploring, and thyself,(After ten thousand toils) and these your guests,To whom heav’n grant felicity, and to leaveTheir treasures to their babes, with all the rightsAnd honours, by the people’s suffrage, theirs!But oh vouchsafe me, who have wanted longAnd ardent wish’d my home, without delaySafe conduct to my native shores again!190Such suit he made, and in the ashes satAt the hearth-side; they mute long time remain’d,Till, at the last, the antient Hero spakeEcheneus, eldest of Phæacia’s sons,With eloquence beyond the rest endow’d,Rich in traditionary lore, and wiseIn all, who thus, benevolent, began.Not honourable to thyself, O King!Is such a sight, a stranger on the groundAt the hearth-side seated, and in the dust.200Meantime, thy guests, expecting thy command,Move not; thou therefore raising by his handThe stranger, lead him to a throne, and bidThe heralds mingle wine, that we may pourTo thunder-bearing Jove, the suppliant’s friend.Then let the cat’ress for thy guest produceSupply, a supper from the last regale.Soon as those words Alcinoüs heard, the King,Upraising by his hand the prudent ChiefUlysses from the hearth, he made him sit,210On a bright throne, displacing for his sakeLaodamas his son, the virtuous youthWho sat beside him, and whom most he lov’d.And now, a maiden charg’d with golden ew’rAnd with an argent laver, pouring, first,Pure water on his hands, supply’d him, next,With a resplendent table, which the chasteDirectress of the stores furnish’d with breadAnd dainties, remnants of the last regale.Then ate the Hero toil-inured, and drank,220And to his herald thus Alcinoüs spake.Pontonoüs! mingling wine, bear it aroundTo ev’ry guest in turn, that we may pourTo thunder-bearer Jove, the stranger’s friend,And guardian of the suppliant’s sacred rights.He said; Pontonoüs, as he bade, the wineMingled delicious, and the cups dispensedWith distribution regular to all.When each had made libation, and had drunkSufficient, then, Alcinoüs thus began.230Phæacian Chiefs and Senators, I speakThe dictates of my mind, therefore attend!Ye all have feasted—To your homes and sleep.We will assemble at the dawn of dayMore senior Chiefs, that we may entertainThe stranger here, and to the Gods performDue sacrifice; the convoy that he asksShall next engage our thoughts, that free from painAnd from vexation, by our friendly aidHe may revisit, joyful and with speed,240His native shore, however far remote.No inconvenience let him feel or harm,Ere his arrival; but, arrived, thenceforthHe must endure whatever lot the FatesSpun for him in the moment of his birth.But should he prove some Deity from heav’nDescended, then the Immortals have in viewDesigns not yet apparent; for the GodsHave ever from of old reveal’d themselvesAt our solemnities, have on our seats250Sat with us evident, and shared the feast;And even if a single travellerOf the Phæacians meet them, all reserveThey lay aside; for with the Gods we boastAs near affinity as do themselvesThe Cyclops, or the Giant race profane.26To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.Alcinoüs! think not so. Resemblance noneIn figure or in lineaments I bearTo the immortal tenants of the skies,260But to the sons of earth; if ye have knownA man afflicted with a weight of woePeculiar, let me be with him compared;Woes even passing his could I relate,And all inflicted on me by the Gods.But let me eat, comfortless as I am,Uninterrupted; for no call is loudAs that of hunger in the ears of man;Importunate, unreas’nable, it constrainsHis notice, more than all his woes beside.270So, I much sorrow feel, yet not the lessHear I the blatant appetite demandDue sustenance, and with a voice that drownsE’en all my suff’rings, till itself be fill’d.But expedite ye at the dawn of dayMy safe return into my native land,After much mis’ry; and let life itselfForsake me, may I but once more beholdAll that is mine, in my own lofty abode.He spake, whom all applauded, and advised,280Unanimous, the guest’s conveyance home,Who had so fitly spoken. When, at length,All had libation made, and were sufficed,Departing to his house, each sought repose.But still Ulysses in the hall remain’d,Where, godlike King, Alcinoüs at his sideSat, and Areta; the attendants clear’dMeantime the board, and thus the Queen white-arm’d,(Marking the vest and mantle, which he woreAnd which her maidens and herself had made)290In accents wing’d with eager haste began.Stranger! the first enquiry shall be mine;Who art, and whence? From whom receiv’dst thou these?Saidst not—I came a wand’rer o’er the Deep?To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.Oh Queen! the task were difficult to unfoldIn all its length the story of my woes,For I have num’rous from the Gods receiv’d;But I will answer thee as best I may.There is a certain isle, Ogygia, placed300Far distant in the Deep; there dwells, by manAlike unvisited, and by the Gods,Calypso, beauteous nymph, but deeply skill’dIn artifice, and terrible in pow’r,Daughter of Atlas. Me alone my fateHer miserable inmate made, when JoveHad riv’n asunder with his candent boltMy bark in the mid-sea. There perish’d allThe valiant partners of my toils, and IMy vessel’s keel embracing day and night310With folded arms, nine days was borne along.But on the tenth dark night, as pleas’d the Gods,They drove me to Ogygia, where residesCalypso, beauteous nymph, dreadful in pow’r;She rescued, cherish’d, fed me, and her wishWas to confer on me immortal life,Exempt for ever from the sap of age.But me her offer’d boon sway’d not. Sev’n yearsI there abode continual, with my tearsBedewing ceaseless my ambrosial robes,320Calypso’s gift divine; but when, at length,(Sev’n years elaps’d) the circling eighth arrived,She then, herself, my quick departure thenceAdvised, by Jove’s own mandate overaw’d,Which even her had influenced to a change.On a well-corded raft she sent me forthWith num’rous presents; bread she put and wineOn board, and cloath’d me in immortal robes;She sent before me also a fair windFresh-blowing, but not dang’rous. Sev’nteen days330I sail’d the flood continual, and descried,On the eighteenth, your shadowy mountains tallWhen my exulting heart sprang at the sight,All wretched as I was, and still ordain’dTo strive with difficulties many and hardFrom adverse Neptune; he the stormy windsExciting opposite, my wat’ry wayImpeded, and the waves heav’d to a bulkImmeasurable, such as robb’d me soonDeep-groaning, of the raft, my only hope;340For her the tempest scatter’d, and myselfThis ocean measur’d swimming, till the windsAnd mighty waters cast me on your shore.Me there emerging, the huge waves had dash’dFull on the land, where, incommodious most,The shore presented only roughest rocks,But, leaving it, I swam the Deep again,Till now, at last, a river’s gentle streamReceiv’d me, by no rocks deform’d, and whereNo violent winds the shelter’d bank annoy’d.350I flung myself on shore, exhausted, weak,Needing repose; ambrosial night came on,When from the Jove-descended stream withdrawn,I in a thicket lay’d me down on leavesWhich I had heap’d together, and the GodsO’erwhelm’d my eye-lids with a flood of sleep.There under wither’d leaves, forlorn, I sleptAll the long night, the morning and the noon,But balmy sleep, at the decline of day,Broke from me; then, your daughter’s train I heard360Sporting, with whom she also sported, fairAnd graceful as the Gods. To her I kneel’d.She, following the dictates of a mindIngenuous, pass’d in her behaviour allWhich even ye could from an age like hersHave hoped; for youth is ever indiscrete.She gave me plenteous food, with richest wineRefresh’d my spirit, taught me where to bathe,And cloath’d me as thou seest; thus, though a preyTo many sorrows, I have told thee truth.370To whom Alcinoüs answer thus return’d.My daughter’s conduct, I perceive, hath beenIn this erroneous, that she led thee notHither, at once, with her attendant train,For thy first suit was to herself alone.Thus then Ulysses, wary Chief, replied.Blame not, O Hero, for so slight a causeThy faultless child; she bade me follow them,But I refused, by fear and awe restrain’d,Lest thou should’st feel displeasure at that sight380Thyself; for we are all, in ev’ry clime,Suspicious, and to worst constructions prone.So spake Ulysses, to whom thus the King.I bear not, stranger! in my breast an heartCauseless irascible; for at all timesA temp’rate equanimity is best.And oh, I would to heav’n, that, being suchAs now thou art, and of one mind with me,Thou would’st accept my daughter, would’st becomeMy son-in-law, and dwell contented here!390House would I give thee, and possessions too,Were such thy choice; else, if thou chuse it not,No man in all Phæacia shall by forceDetain thee. Jupiter himself forbid!For proof, I will appoint thee convoy henceTo-morrow; and while thou by sleep subduedShalt on thy bed repose, they with their oarsShall brush the placid flood, till thou arriveAt home, or at what place soe’er thou would’st,Though far more distant than Eubœa lies,400Remotest isle from us, by the reportOf ours, who saw it when they thither boreGolden-hair’d Rhadamanthus o’er the Deep,To visit earth-born Tityus. To that isleThey went; they reach’d it, and they brought him thenceBack to Phæacia, in one day, with ease.Thou also shalt be taught what ships I boastUnmatch’d in swiftness, and how far my crewsExcel, upturning with their oars the brine.He ceas’d; Ulysses toil-inur’d his words410Exulting heard, and, praying, thus replied.Eternal Father! may the King performHis whole kind promise! grant him in all landsA never-dying name, and grant to meTo visit safe my native shores again!Thus they conferr’d; and now Areta badeHer fair attendants dress a fleecy couchUnder the portico, with purple rugsResplendent, and with arras spread beneath,And over all with cloaks of shaggy pile.420Forth went the maidens, bearing each a torch,And, as she bade, prepared in haste a couchOf depth commodious, then, returning, gaveUlysses welcome summons to repose.Stranger! thy couch is spread. Hence to thy rest.So they—Thrice grateful to his soul the thoughtSeem’d of repose. There slept Ulysses, then,On his carv’d couch, beneath the portico,But in the inner-house Alcinoüs foundHis place of rest, and hers with royal state430Prepared, the Queen his consort, at his side.

25Καιροσέων δ’ οθονεων ἀπολείβεται ὑγρον ἔλαιον.Pope has given no translation of this line in the text of his work, but has translated it in a note. It is variously interpreted by commentators; the sense which is here given of it is that recommended by Eustathius.26The Scholiast explains the passage thus—We resemble the Gods in righteousness as much as the Cyclops and Giants resembled each other in impiety. But in this sense of it there is something intricate and contrary to Homer’s manner. We have seen that they derived themselves from Neptune, which sufficiently justifies the above interpretation.

Καιροσέων δ’ οθονεων ἀπολείβεται ὑγρον ἔλαιον.

Pope has given no translation of this line in the text of his work, but has translated it in a note. It is variously interpreted by commentators; the sense which is here given of it is that recommended by Eustathius.

26The Scholiast explains the passage thus—We resemble the Gods in righteousness as much as the Cyclops and Giants resembled each other in impiety. But in this sense of it there is something intricate and contrary to Homer’s manner. We have seen that they derived themselves from Neptune, which sufficiently justifies the above interpretation.

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