BOOK VIII

BOOK VIIIARGUMENTThe Phæacians consult on the subject of Ulysses. Preparation is made for his departure. Antinoüs entertains them at his table. Games follow the entertainment. Demodocus the bard sings, first the loves of Mars and Venus, then the introduction of the wooden horse into Troy. Ulysses, much affected by his song, is questioned by Alcinoüs, whence, and who he is, and what is the cause of his sorrow.But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,Blush’d in the East, then from his bed aroseThe sacred might of the Phæacian King.Then uprose also, city-waster Chief,Ulysses, whom the King AlcinoüsLed forth to council at the ships convened.There, side by side, on polish’d stones they satFrequent; meantime, Minerva in the formOf King Alcinoüs’ herald ranged the town,With purpose to accelerate the return10Of brave Ulysses to his native home,And thus to ev’ry Chief the Goddess spake.Phæacian Chiefs and Senators, away!Haste all to council on the stranger held,Who hath of late beneath Alcinoüs’ roofOur King arrived, a wand’rer o’er the Deep,But, in his form, majestic as a God.So saying, she roused the people, and at onceThe seats of all the senate-court were fill’dWith fast-assembling throngs, no few of whom20Had mark’d Ulysses with admiring eyes.Then, Pallas o’er his head and shoulders broadDiffusing grace celestial, his whole formDilated, and to the statelier height advanced,That worthier of all rev’rence he might seemTo the Phæacians, and might many a featAtchieve, with which they should assay his force.When, therefore, the assembly now was full,Alcinoüs, them addressing, thus began.Phæacian Chiefs and Senators! I speak30The dictates of my mind, therefore attend.This guest, unknown to me, hath, wand’ring, foundMy palace, either from the East arrived,Or from some nation on our western side.Safe conduct home he asks, and our consentHere wishes ratified, whose quick returnBe it our part, as usual, to promote;For at no time the stranger, from what coastSoe’er, who hath resorted to our doors,Hath long complain’d of his detention here.40Haste—draw ye down into the sacred DeepA vessel of prime speed, and, from amongThe people, fifty and two youths select,Approved the best; then, lashing fast the oars,Leave her, that at my palace ye may makeShort feast, for which myself will all provide.Thus I enjoin the crew; but as for thoseOf sceptred rank, I bid them all alikeTo my own board, that here we may regaleThe stranger nobly, and let none refuse.50Call, too, Demodocus, the bard divine,To share my banquet, whom the Gods have blestWith pow’rs of song delectable, unmatch’dBy any, when his genius once is fired.He ceas’d, and led the way, whom follow’d allThe sceptred senators, while to the houseAn herald hasted of the bard divine.Then, fifty mariners and two, from allThe rest selected, to the coast repair’d,And, from her station on the sea-bank, launched60The galley down into the sacred Deep.They placed the canvas and the mast on board,Arranged the oars, unfurl’d the shining sail,And, leaving her in depth of water moor’d,All sought the palace of Alcinoüs.There, soon, the portico, the court, the hallWere fill’d with multitudes of young and old,For whose regale the mighty monarch slewTwo beeves, twelve sheep, and twice four fatted brawns.They slay’d them first, then busily their task70Administ’ring, prepared the joyous feast.And now the herald came, leading with careThe tuneful bard; dear to the muse was he,Who yet appointed him both good and ill;Took from him sight, but gave him strains divine.For him, Pontonoüs in the midst disposedAn argent-studded throne, thrusting it closeTo a tall column, where he hung his lyreAbove his head, and taught him where it hung.He set before him, next, a polish’d board80And basket, and a goblet fill’d with wineFor his own use, and at his own command.Then, all assail’d at once the ready feast,And when nor hunger more nor thirst they felt,Then came the muse, and roused the bard to singExploits of men renown’d; it was a song,In that day, to the highest heav’n extoll’d.He sang of a dispute kindled betweenThe son of Peleus, and Laertes’27son,Both seated at a feast held to the Gods.90That contest Agamemnon, King of men,Between the noblest of Achaia’s hostHearing, rejoiced; for when in Pytho erstHe pass’d the marble threshold to consultThe oracle of Apollo, such disputeThe voice divine had to his ear announced;For then it was that, first, the storm of warCame rolling on, ordain’d long time to afflictTroy and the Greecians, by the will of Jove.So sang the bard illustrious; then his robe100Of purple dye with both hands o’er his headUlysses drew, behind its ample foldsVeiling his face, through fear to be observedBy the Phæacians weeping at the song;And ever as the bard harmonious ceased,He wiped his tears, and, drawing from his browsThe mantle, pour’d libation to the Gods.But when the Chiefs (for they delighted heardThose sounds) solicited again the bard,And he renew’d the strain, then cov’ring close110His count’nance, as before, Ulysses wept.Thus, unperceiv’d by all, the Hero mourn’d,Save by Alcinoüs; he alone his tears,(Beside him seated) mark’d, and his deep sighsO’erhearing, the Phæacians thus bespake.Phæacia’s Chiefs and Senators, attend!We have regaled sufficient, and the harpHeard to satiety, companion sweetAnd seasonable of the festive hour.Now go we forth for honourable proof120Of our address in games of ev’ry kind,That this our guest may to his friends report,At home arriv’d, that none like us have learn’dTo leap, to box, to wrestle, and to run.So saying, he led them forth, whose steps the guestsAll follow’d, and the herald hanging highThe sprightly lyre, took by his hand the bardDemodocus, whom he the self-same wayConducted forth, by which the Chiefs had goneThemselves, for that great spectacle prepared.130They sought the forum; countless swarm’d the throngBehind them as they went, and many a youthStrong and courageous to the strife arose.Upstood Acroneus and Ocyalus,Elatreus, Nauteus, Prymneus, after whomAnchialus with AnabeesineusArose, Eretmeus, Ponteus, Proreus bold,Amphialus and Thöon. Then arose,In aspect dread as homicidal Mars,Euryalus, and for his graceful form140(After Laodamas) distinguish’d mostOf all Phæacia’s sons, Naubolides.Three also from Alcinoüs sprung, arose,Laodamas, his eldest; Halius, next,His second-born; and godlike Clytoneus.Of these, some started for the runner’s prize.They gave the race its limits.28All at onceAlong the dusty champaign swift they flew.But Clytoneus, illustrious youth, outstripp’dAll competition; far as mules surpass150Slow oxen furrowing the fallow ground,So far before all others he arrivedVictorious, where the throng’d spectators stood.Some tried the wrestler’s toil severe, in whichEuryalus superior proved to all.In the long leap Amphialus prevail’d;Elatreus most successful hurled the quoit,And at the cestus,29last, the noble sonOf Scheria’s King, Laodamas excell’d.When thus with contemplation of the games160All had been gratified, Alcinoüs’ sonLaodamas, arising, then address’d.Friends! ask we now the stranger, if he boastProficiency in aught. His figure seemsNot ill; in thighs, and legs, and arms he shewsMuch strength, and in his brawny neck; nor youthHath left him yet, though batter’d he appearsWith num’rous troubles, and misfortune-flaw’d.Nor know I hardships in the world so sureTo break the strongest down, as those by sea.170Then answer thus Euryalus return’d.Thou hast well said, Laodamas; thyselfApproaching, speak to him, and call him forth.Which when Alcinoüs’ noble offspring heard,Advancing from his seat, amid them allHe stood, and to Ulysses thus began.Stand forth, oh guest, thou also; prove thy skill(If any such thou hast) in games like ours,Which, likeliest, thou hast learn’d; for greater praiseHath no man, while he lives, than that he know180His feet to exercise and hands aright.Come then; make trial; scatter wide thy cares,We will not hold thee long; the ship is launch’dAlready, and the crew stand all prepared.To whom replied the wily Chief renown’dWherefore, as in derision, have ye call’dMe forth, Laodamas, to these exploits?No games have I, but many a grief, at heart,And with far other struggles worn, here sitDesirous only of conveyance home,190For which both King and people I implore.Then him Euryalus aloud reproach’d.I well believ’d it, friend! in thee the guiseI see not of a man expert in featsAthletic, of which various are perform’dIn ev’ry land; thou rather seem’st with shipsFamiliar; one, accustom’d to controulSome crew of trading mariners; well-learn’dIn stowage, pilotage, and wealth acquiredBy rapine, but of no gymnastic pow’rs.200To whom Ulysses, frowning dark, replied.Thou hast ill spoken, sir, and like a manRegardless whom he wrongs. Therefore the GodsGive not endowments graceful in each kind,Of body, mind, and utt’rance, all to one.This man in figure less excels, yet JoveCrowns him with eloquence; his hearers charm’dBehold him, while with modest confidenceHe bears the prize of fluent speech from all,And in the streets is gazed on as a God!210Another, in his form the Pow’rs aboveResembles, but no grace around his wordsTwines itself elegant. So, thou in formHast excellence to boast; a God, employ’dTo make a master-piece in human shape,Could but produce proportions such as thine;Yet hast thou an untutor’d intellect.Thou much hast moved me; thy unhandsome phraseHath roused my wrath; I am not, as thou say’st,A novice in these sports, but took the lead220In all, while youth and strength were on my side.But I am now in bands of sorrow held,And of misfortune, having much enduredIn war, and buffeting the boist’rous waves.Yet, though with mis’ry worn, I will essayMy strength among you; for thy words had teethWhose bite hath pinch’d and pain’d me to the proof.He said; and mantled as he was, a quoitUpstarting, seized, in bulk and weight all thoseTranscending far, by the Phæacians used.230Swiftly he swung, and from his vig’rous handSent it. Loud sang the stone, and as it flewThe maritime Phæacians low inclinedTheir heads beneath it; over all the marks,And far beyond them, sped the flying rock.Minerva, in a human form, the castProdigious measur’d, and aloud exclaim’d.Stranger! the blind himself might with his handsFeel out the ’vantage here. Thy quoit disdainsFellowship with a crowd, borne far beyond.240Fear not a losing game; Phæacian noneWill reach thy measure, much less overcast.She ceased; Ulysses, hardy Chief, rejoicedThat in the circus he had found a judgeSo favorable, and with brisker tone,As less in wrath, the multitude address’d.Young men, reach this, and I will quickly heaveAnother such, or yet a heavier quoit.Then, come the man whose courage prompts him forthTo box, to wrestle with me, or to run;250For ye have chafed me much, and I declineNo strife with any here, but challenge allPhæacia, save Laodamas alone.He is mine host. Who combats with his friend?To call to proof of hardiment the manWho entertains him in a foreign land,Would but evince the challenger a fool,Who, so, would cripple his own interest there.As for the rest, I none refuse, scorn none,But wish for trial of you, and to match260In opposition fair my force with yours.There is no game athletic in the useOf all mankind, too difficult for me;I handle well the polish’d bow, and firstAmid a thousand foes strike whom I mark,Although a throng of warriors at my sideImbattled, speed their shafts at the same time.Of all Achaia’s sons who erst at TroyDrew bow, the sole who bore the prize from meWas Philoctetes; I resign it else270To none now nourish’d with the fruits of earth.Yet mean I no comparison of myselfWith men of antient times, with Hercules,Or with Oechalian Eurytus, who, both,The Gods themselves in archery defied.Soon, therefore, died huge Eurytus, ere yetOld age he reach’d; him, angry to be call’dTo proof of archership, Apollo slew.But if ye name the spear, mine flies a lengthBy no man’s arrow reach’d; I fear no foil280From the Phæacians, save in speed alone;For I have suffer’d hardships, dash’d and drench’dBy many a wave, nor had I food on boardAt all times, therefore I am much unstrung.He spake; and silent the Phæacians sat,Of whom alone Alcinoüs thus replied.Since, stranger, not ungraceful is thy speech,Who hast but vindicated in our earsThy question’d prowess, angry that this youthReproach’d thee in the presence of us all,290That no man qualified to give his voiceIn public, might affront thy courage more;Now mark me, therefore, that in time to come,While feasting with thy children and thy spouse,Thou may’st inform the Heroes of thy landEven of our proficiency in artsBy Jove enjoin’d us in our father’s days.We boast not much the boxer’s skill, nor yetThe wrestler’s; but light-footed in the raceAre we, and navigators well-inform’d.300Our pleasures are the feast, the harp, the dance,Garments for change; the tepid bath; the bed.Come, ye Phæacians, beyond others skill’dTo tread the circus with harmonious steps,Come, play before us; that our guest, arrivedIn his own country, may inform his friendsHow far in seamanship we all excel,In running, in the dance, and in the song.Haste! bring ye to Demodocus his lyreClear-toned, left somewhere in our hall at home.310So spake the godlike King, at whose commandThe herald to the palace quick return’dTo seek the charming lyre. Meantime aroseNine arbiters, appointed to intendThe whole arrangement of the public games,To smooth the circus floor, and give the ringIts compass, widening the attentive throng.Ere long the herald came, bearing the harp,With which Demodocus supplied, advancedInto the middle area, around whom320Stood blooming youths, all skilful in the dance.With footsteps justly timed all smote at onceThe sacred floor; Ulysses wonder-fixt,The ceaseless play of twinkling30feet admired.Then, tuning his sweet chords, DemodocusA jocund strain began, his theme, the lovesOf Mars and Cytherea chaplet-crown’d;How first, clandestine, they embraced beneathThe roof of Vulcan, her, by many a giftSeduced, Mars won, and with adult’rous lust330The bed dishonour’d of the King of fire.The sun, a witness of their amorous sport,Bore swift the tale to Vulcan; he, apprizedOf that foul deed, at once his smithy sought,In secret darkness of his inmost soulContriving vengeance; to the stock he heav’dHis anvil huge, on which he forged a snareOf bands indissoluble, by no artTo be untied, durance for ever firm.The net prepared, he bore it, fiery-wroth,340To his own chamber and his nuptial couch,Where, stretching them from post to post, he wrapp’dWith those fine meshes all his bed around,And hung them num’rous from the roof, diffusedLike spiders’ filaments, which not the GodsThemselves could see, so subtle were the toils.When thus he had encircled all his bedOn ev’ry side, he feign’d a journey thenceTo Lemnos, of all cities that adornThe earth, the city that he favours most.350Nor kept the God of the resplendent reinsMars, drowsy watch, but seeing that the famedArtificer of heav’n had left his home,Flew to the house of Vulcan, hot to enjoyThe Goddess with the wreath-encircled brows.She, newly from her potent Sire return’dThe son of Saturn, sat. Mars, ent’ring, seiz’dHer hand, hung on it, and thus urg’d his suit.To bed, my fair, and let us love! for lo!Thine husband is from home, to Lemnos gone,360And to the Sintians, men of barb’rous speech.He spake, nor she was loth, but bedward tooLike him inclined; so then, to bed they went,And as they lay’d them down, down stream’d the netAround them, labour exquisite of handsBy ingenuity divine inform’d.Small room they found, so prison’d; not a limbCould either lift, or move, but felt at onceEntanglement from which was no escape.And now the glorious artist, ere he yet370Had reach’d the Lemnian isle, limping, return’dFrom his feign’d journey, for his spy the sunHad told him all. With aching heart he soughtHis home, and, standing in the vestibule,Frantic with indignation roar’d to heav’n,And roar’d again, summoning all the Gods.—Oh Jove! and all ye Pow’rs for ever blest!Here; hither look, that ye may view a sightLudicrous, yet too monstrous to be borne,How Venus always with dishonour loads380Her cripple spouse, doating on fiery Mars!And wherefore? for that he is fair in formAnd sound of foot, I ricket-boned and weak.Whose fault is this? Their fault, and theirs aloneWho gave me being; ill-employ’d were theyBegetting me, one, better far unborn.See where they couch together on my bedLascivious! ah, sight hateful to my eyes!Yet cooler wishes will they feel, I ween,To press my bed hereafter; here to sleep390Will little please them, fondly as they love.But these my toils and tangles will sufficeTo hold them here, till Jove shall yield me backComplete, the sum of all my nuptial giftsPaid to him for the shameless strumpet’s sakeHis daughter, as incontinent as fair.He said, and in the brazen-floor’d abodeOf Jove the Gods assembled. Neptune cameEarth-circling Pow’r; came Hermes friend of man,And, regent of the far-commanding bow,400Apollo also came; but chaste reserveBashful kept all the Goddesses at home.The Gods, by whose beneficence all live,Stood in the portal; infinite aroseThe laugh of heav’n, all looking down intentOn that shrewd project of the smith divine,And, turning to each other, thus they said.Bad works speed ill. The slow o’ertakes the swift.So Vulcan, tardy as he is, by craftHath outstript Mars, although the fleetest far410Of all who dwell in heav’n, and the light-heel’dMust pay the adult’rer’s forfeit to the lame.So spake the Pow’rs immortal; then the KingOf radiant shafts thus question’d Mercury.Jove’s son, heaven’s herald, Hermes, bounteous God!Would’stthousuch stricture close of bands endureFor golden Venus lying at thy side?Whom answer’d thus the messenger of heav’nArcher divine! yea, and with all my heart;And be the bands which wind us round about420Thrice these innumerable, and let allThe Gods and Goddesses in heav’n look on,So I may clasp Vulcan’s fair spouse the while.He spake; then laugh’d the Immortal Pow’rs again.But not so Neptune; he with earnest suitThe glorious artist urged to the releaseOf Mars, and thus in accents wing’d he said.Loose him; accept my promise; he shall payFull recompense in presence of us all.Then thus the limping smith far-famed replied.430Earth-circler Neptune, spare me that request.Lame suitor, lame security.31What bandsCould I devise for thee among the Gods,Should Mars, emancipated once, escape,Leaving both debt and durance, far behind?Him answer’d then the Shaker of the shores.I tell thee, Vulcan, that if Mars by flightShun payment, I will pay, myself, the fine.To whom the glorious artist of the skies.Thou must not, canst not, shalt not be refused.440So saying, the might of Vulcan loos’d the snare,And they, detain’d by those coercive bandsNo longer, from the couch upstarting, flew,Mars into Thrace, and to her Paphian homeThe Queen of smiles, where deep in myrtle grovesHer incense-breathing altar stands embow’r’d.Her there, the Graces laved, and oils diffusedO’er all her form, ambrosial, such as addFresh beauty to the Gods for ever young,And cloath’d her in the loveliest robes of heav’n.450Such was the theme of the illustrious bard.Ulysses with delight that song, and allThe maritime Phæacian concourse heard.Alcinoüs, then, (for in the dance they pass’dAll others) call’d his sons to dance alone,Halius and Laodamas; they gaveThe purple ball into their hands, the workExact of Polybus; one, re-supine,Upcast it high toward the dusky clouds,The other, springing into air, with ease460Received it, ere he sank to earth again.When thus they oft had sported with the ballThrown upward, next, with nimble interchangeThey pass’d it to each other many a time,Footing the plain, while ev’ry youth of allThe circus clapp’d his hands, and from beneathThe din of stamping feet fill’d all the air.Then, turning to Alcinoüs, thus the wiseUlysses spake: Alcinoüs! mighty King!Illustrious above all Phæacia’s sons!470Incomparable are ye in the dance,Ev’n as thou said’st. Amazement-fixt I stand!So he, whom hearing, the imperial mightExulted of Alcinoüs, and aloudTo his oar-skill’d Phæacians thus he spake.Phæacian Chiefs and Senators, attend!Wisdom beyond the common stint I markIn this our guest; good cause in my account,For which we should present him with a pledgeOf hospitality and love. The Chiefs480Are twelve, who, highest in command, controulThe people, and the thirteenth Chief am I.Bring each a golden talent, with a vestWell-bleach’d, and tunic; gratified with these,The stranger to our banquet shall repairExulting; bring them all without delay;And let Euryalus by word and giftAppease him, for his speech was unadvised.He ceas’d, whom all applauded, and at onceEach sent his herald forth to bring the gifts,490When thus Euryalus his Sire address’d.Alcinoüs! o’er Phæacia’s sons supreme!I will appease our guest, as thou command’st.This sword shall be his own, the blade all steel.The hilt of silver, and the unsullied sheathOf iv’ry recent from the carver’s hand,A gift like this he shall not need despise.So saying, his silver-studded sword he gaveInto his grasp, and, courteous, thus began.Hail, honour’d stranger! and if word of mine500Have harm’d thee, rashly spoken, let the windsBear all remembrance of it swift away!May the Gods give thee to behold againThy wife, and to attain thy native shore,Whence absent long, thou hast so much endured!To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.Hail also thou, and may the Gods, my friend,Grant thee felicity, and may never wantOf this thy sword touch thee in time to come,By whose kind phrase appeas’d my wrath subsides!510He ended, and athwart his shoulders threwThe weapon bright emboss’d. Now sank the sun,And those rich gifts arrived, which to the houseOf King Alcinoüs the heralds bore.Alcinoüs’ sons receiv’d them, and besideTheir royal mother placed the precious charge.The King then led the way, at whose abodeArrived, again they press’d their lofty thrones,And to Areta thus the monarch spake.Haste, bring a coffer; bring thy best, and store520A mantle and a sumptuous vest within;Warm for him, next, a brazen bath, by whichRefresh’d, and viewing in fair order placedThe noble gifts by the Phæacian LordsConferr’d on him, he may the more enjoyOur banquet, and the bard’s harmonious song.I give him also this my golden cupSplendid, elaborate; that, while he livesWhat time he pours libation forth to JoveAnd all the Gods, he may remember me.530He ended, at whose words Areta badeHer maidens with dispatch place o’er the fireA tripod ample-womb’d; obedient theyAdvanced a laver to the glowing hearth,Water infused, and kindled wood beneathThe flames encircling bright the bellied vase,Warm’d soon the flood within. Meantime, the QueenProducing from her chamber-stores a chestAll-elegant, within it placed the gold,And raiment, gifts of the Phæacian Chiefs,540With her own gifts, the mantle and the vest,And in wing’d accents to Ulysses said.Now take, thyself, the coffer’s lid in charge;Girdle it quickly with a cord, lest lossBefall thee on thy way, while thou perchanceShalt sleep secure on board the sable bark.Which when Ulysses heard, Hero renown’d,Adjusting close the lid, he cast a cordAround it which with many a mazy knotHe tied, by Circe taught him long before.550And now, the mistress of the household chargeSummon’d him to his bath; glad he beheldThe steaming vase, uncustom’d to its useE’er since his voyage from the isle of fairCalypso, although, while a guest with her,Ever familiar with it, as a God.Laved by attendant damsels, and with oilRefresh’d, he put his sumptuous tunic onAnd mantle, and proceeding from the bathTo the symposium, join’d the num’rous guests;560But, as he pass’d, the Princess all divineBeside the pillars of the portal, lostIn admiration of his graceful form,Stood, and in accents wing’d him thus address’d.Hail, stranger! at thy native home arrivedRemember me, thy first deliv’rer here.To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.Nausicaa! daughter of the noble KingAlcinoüs! So may Jove, high-thund’ring mateOf Juno, grant me to behold again570My native land, and my delightful home,As, even there, I will present my vowsTo thee, adoring thee as I adoreThe Gods themselves, virgin, by whom I live!He said, and on his throne beside the KingAlcinoüs sat. And now they portion’d outThe feast to all, and charg’d the cups with wine,And introducing by his hand the bardPhæacia’s glory, at the column’s sideThe herald placed Demodocus again.580Then, carving forth a portion from the loinsOf a huge brawn, of which uneaten stillLarge part and delicate remain’d, thus spakeUlysses—Herald! bear it to the bardFor his regale, whom I will soon embraceIn spite of sorrow; for respect is dueAnd veneration to the sacred bardFrom all mankind, for that the muse inspiresHerself his song, and loves the tuneful tribe.He ended, and the herald bore his charge590To the old hero who with joy receivedThat meed of honour at the bearer’s hand.Then, all, at once, assail’d the ready feast,And hunger now, and thirst both satisfied,Thus to Demodocus Ulysses spake.Demodocus! I give thee praise aboveAll mortals, for that either thee the museJove’s daughter teaches, or the King, himself,Apollo; since thou so record’st the fate,With such clear method, of Achaia’s host,600Their deeds heroic, and their num’rous toils,As thou hadst present been thyself, or learntFrom others present there, the glorious tale.Come, then, proceed; that rare invention sing,The horse of wood, which by Minerva’s aidEpeus framed, and which Ulysses erstConvey’d into the citadel of TroyWith warriors fill’d, who lay’d all Ilium waste.These things rehearse regular, and myselfWill, instant, publish in the ears of all610Thy fame, reporting thee a bard to whomApollo free imparts celestial song.He ended; then Apollo with full forceRush’d on Demodocus, and he beganWhat time the Greeks, first firing their own campSteer’d all their galleys from the shore of Troy.Already, in the horse conceal’d, his bandAround Ulysses sat; for Ilium’s sonsThemselves had drawn it to the citadel.And there the mischief stood. Then, strife arose620Among the Trojans compassing the horse,And threefold was the doubt; whether to cleaveThe hollow trunk asunder, or updrawnAloft, to cast it headlong from the rocks,Or to permit the enormous image, keptEntire, to stand an off’ring to the Gods,Which was their destined course; for Fate had fix’dTheir ruin sure, when once they had receivedWithin their walls that engine huge, in whichSat all the bravest Greecians with the fate630Of Ilium charged, and slaughter of her sons.He sang, how, from the horse effused, the GreeksLeft their capacious ambush, and the townMade desolate. To others, in his song,He gave the praise of wasting all beside,But told how, fierce as Mars, Ulysses join’dWith godlike Menelaus, to the houseFlew of Deiphobus; him there engagedIn direst fight he sang, and through the aidOf glorious Pallas, conqu’ror over all.640So sang the bard illustrious, at whose songUlysses melted, and tear after tearFell on his cheeks. As when a woman weeps,Her husband, who hath fallen in defenceOf his own city and his babes beforeThe gates; she, sinking, folds him in her armsAnd, gazing on him as he pants and dies,Shrieks at the sight; meantime, the enemySmiting her shoulders with the spear to toilCommand her and to bondage far away,650And her cheek fades with horror at the sound;Ulysses, so, from his moist lids let fall,The frequent tear. Unnoticed by the restThose drops, but not by King Alcinoüs, fellWho, seated at his side, his heavy sighsRemark’d, and the Phæacians thus bespake.Phæacian Chiefs and Senators attend!Now let Demodocus enjoin his harpSilence, for not alike grateful to allHis music sounds; during our feast, and since660The bard divine began, continual flowThe stranger’s sorrows, by remembrance causedOf some great woe which wraps his soul around.Then, let the bard suspend his song, that all(As most befits th’ occasion) may rejoice,Both guest and hosts together; since we makeThis voyage, and these gifts confer, in proofOf hospitality and unfeign’d love,Judging, with all wise men, the stranger-guestAnd suppliant worthy of a brother’s place.670And thou conceal not, artfully reserv’d,What I shall ask, far better plain declaredThan smother’d close; who art thou? speak thy name,The name by which thy father, mother, friendsAnd fellow-citizens, with all who dwellAround thy native city, in times pastHave known thee; for of all things human noneLives altogether nameless, whether goodOr whether bad, but ev’ry man receivesEv’n in the moment of his birth, a name.680Thy country, people, city, tell; the markAt which my ships, intelligent, shall aim,That they may bear thee thither; for our shipsNo pilot need or helm, as ships are wont,But know, themselves, our purpose; know besideAll cities, and all fruitful regions wellOf all the earth, and with dark clouds involv’dPlough rapid the rough Deep, fearless of harm,(Whate’er betide) and of disast’rous wreck.Yet thus, long since, my father I have heard690Nausithoüs speaking; Neptune, he would say,Is angry with us, for that safe we bearStrangers of ev’ry nation to their home;And he foretold a time when he would smiteIn vengeance some Phæacian gallant barkReturning after convoy of her charge,And fix her in the sable flood, transform’dInto a mountain, right before the town.So spake my hoary Sire, which let the GodAt his own pleasure do, or leave undone.700But tell me truth, and plainly. Where have beenThy wand’rings? in what regions of the earthHast thou arrived? what nations hast thou seen,What cities? say, how many hast thou foundHarsh, savage and unjust? how many, kindTo strangers, and disposed to fear the Gods?Say also, from what secret grief of heartThy sorrows flow, oft as thou hear’st the fateOf the Achaians, or of Ilium sung?That fate the Gods prepared; they spin the thread710Of man’s destruction, that in after daysThe bard may make the sad event his theme.Perish’d thy father or thy brother there?Or hast thou at the siege of Ilium lostFather-in-law, or son-in-law? for suchAre next and dearest to us after thoseWho share our own descent; or was the deadThy bosom-friend, whose heart was as thy own?For worthy as a brother of our loveThe constant friend and the discrete I deem.72027Agamemnon having inquired at Delphos, at what time the Trojan war would end, was answered that the conclusion of it should happen at a time when a dispute should arise between two of his principal commanders. That dispute occurred at the time here alluded to, Achilles recommending force as most likely to reduce the city, and Ulysses stratagem.28Τοισι δ’ απο νυσοης τετατο δρομος—This expression is by the commentators generally understood to be significant of the effort which they made at starting, but it is not improbable that it relates merely to the measurement of the course, otherwise,καρπαλιμως επετοντοwill be tautologous.29In boxing.30The Translator is indebted to Mr Grey for an epithet more expressive of the original (Μαρμαρυγας) than any other, perhaps, in all our language. See the Ode on the Progress of Poetry.“To brisk notes in cadence beating,Glance theirmany-twinklingfeet”31The original line has received such a variety of interpretations, that a Translator seems free to choose. It has, however, a proverbial turn, which I have endeavoured to preserve, and have adopted the sense of the words which appears best to accord with what immediately follows. Vulcan pleads his own inability to enforce the demand, as a circumstance that made Neptune’s promise unacceptable.

The Phæacians consult on the subject of Ulysses. Preparation is made for his departure. Antinoüs entertains them at his table. Games follow the entertainment. Demodocus the bard sings, first the loves of Mars and Venus, then the introduction of the wooden horse into Troy. Ulysses, much affected by his song, is questioned by Alcinoüs, whence, and who he is, and what is the cause of his sorrow.

But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,Blush’d in the East, then from his bed aroseThe sacred might of the Phæacian King.Then uprose also, city-waster Chief,Ulysses, whom the King AlcinoüsLed forth to council at the ships convened.There, side by side, on polish’d stones they satFrequent; meantime, Minerva in the formOf King Alcinoüs’ herald ranged the town,With purpose to accelerate the return10Of brave Ulysses to his native home,And thus to ev’ry Chief the Goddess spake.Phæacian Chiefs and Senators, away!Haste all to council on the stranger held,Who hath of late beneath Alcinoüs’ roofOur King arrived, a wand’rer o’er the Deep,But, in his form, majestic as a God.So saying, she roused the people, and at onceThe seats of all the senate-court were fill’dWith fast-assembling throngs, no few of whom20Had mark’d Ulysses with admiring eyes.Then, Pallas o’er his head and shoulders broadDiffusing grace celestial, his whole formDilated, and to the statelier height advanced,That worthier of all rev’rence he might seemTo the Phæacians, and might many a featAtchieve, with which they should assay his force.When, therefore, the assembly now was full,Alcinoüs, them addressing, thus began.Phæacian Chiefs and Senators! I speak30The dictates of my mind, therefore attend.This guest, unknown to me, hath, wand’ring, foundMy palace, either from the East arrived,Or from some nation on our western side.Safe conduct home he asks, and our consentHere wishes ratified, whose quick returnBe it our part, as usual, to promote;For at no time the stranger, from what coastSoe’er, who hath resorted to our doors,Hath long complain’d of his detention here.40Haste—draw ye down into the sacred DeepA vessel of prime speed, and, from amongThe people, fifty and two youths select,Approved the best; then, lashing fast the oars,Leave her, that at my palace ye may makeShort feast, for which myself will all provide.Thus I enjoin the crew; but as for thoseOf sceptred rank, I bid them all alikeTo my own board, that here we may regaleThe stranger nobly, and let none refuse.50Call, too, Demodocus, the bard divine,To share my banquet, whom the Gods have blestWith pow’rs of song delectable, unmatch’dBy any, when his genius once is fired.He ceas’d, and led the way, whom follow’d allThe sceptred senators, while to the houseAn herald hasted of the bard divine.Then, fifty mariners and two, from allThe rest selected, to the coast repair’d,And, from her station on the sea-bank, launched60The galley down into the sacred Deep.They placed the canvas and the mast on board,Arranged the oars, unfurl’d the shining sail,And, leaving her in depth of water moor’d,All sought the palace of Alcinoüs.There, soon, the portico, the court, the hallWere fill’d with multitudes of young and old,For whose regale the mighty monarch slewTwo beeves, twelve sheep, and twice four fatted brawns.They slay’d them first, then busily their task70Administ’ring, prepared the joyous feast.And now the herald came, leading with careThe tuneful bard; dear to the muse was he,Who yet appointed him both good and ill;Took from him sight, but gave him strains divine.For him, Pontonoüs in the midst disposedAn argent-studded throne, thrusting it closeTo a tall column, where he hung his lyreAbove his head, and taught him where it hung.He set before him, next, a polish’d board80And basket, and a goblet fill’d with wineFor his own use, and at his own command.Then, all assail’d at once the ready feast,And when nor hunger more nor thirst they felt,Then came the muse, and roused the bard to singExploits of men renown’d; it was a song,In that day, to the highest heav’n extoll’d.He sang of a dispute kindled betweenThe son of Peleus, and Laertes’27son,Both seated at a feast held to the Gods.90That contest Agamemnon, King of men,Between the noblest of Achaia’s hostHearing, rejoiced; for when in Pytho erstHe pass’d the marble threshold to consultThe oracle of Apollo, such disputeThe voice divine had to his ear announced;For then it was that, first, the storm of warCame rolling on, ordain’d long time to afflictTroy and the Greecians, by the will of Jove.So sang the bard illustrious; then his robe100Of purple dye with both hands o’er his headUlysses drew, behind its ample foldsVeiling his face, through fear to be observedBy the Phæacians weeping at the song;And ever as the bard harmonious ceased,He wiped his tears, and, drawing from his browsThe mantle, pour’d libation to the Gods.But when the Chiefs (for they delighted heardThose sounds) solicited again the bard,And he renew’d the strain, then cov’ring close110His count’nance, as before, Ulysses wept.Thus, unperceiv’d by all, the Hero mourn’d,Save by Alcinoüs; he alone his tears,(Beside him seated) mark’d, and his deep sighsO’erhearing, the Phæacians thus bespake.Phæacia’s Chiefs and Senators, attend!We have regaled sufficient, and the harpHeard to satiety, companion sweetAnd seasonable of the festive hour.Now go we forth for honourable proof120Of our address in games of ev’ry kind,That this our guest may to his friends report,At home arriv’d, that none like us have learn’dTo leap, to box, to wrestle, and to run.So saying, he led them forth, whose steps the guestsAll follow’d, and the herald hanging highThe sprightly lyre, took by his hand the bardDemodocus, whom he the self-same wayConducted forth, by which the Chiefs had goneThemselves, for that great spectacle prepared.130They sought the forum; countless swarm’d the throngBehind them as they went, and many a youthStrong and courageous to the strife arose.Upstood Acroneus and Ocyalus,Elatreus, Nauteus, Prymneus, after whomAnchialus with AnabeesineusArose, Eretmeus, Ponteus, Proreus bold,Amphialus and Thöon. Then arose,In aspect dread as homicidal Mars,Euryalus, and for his graceful form140(After Laodamas) distinguish’d mostOf all Phæacia’s sons, Naubolides.Three also from Alcinoüs sprung, arose,Laodamas, his eldest; Halius, next,His second-born; and godlike Clytoneus.Of these, some started for the runner’s prize.They gave the race its limits.28All at onceAlong the dusty champaign swift they flew.But Clytoneus, illustrious youth, outstripp’dAll competition; far as mules surpass150Slow oxen furrowing the fallow ground,So far before all others he arrivedVictorious, where the throng’d spectators stood.Some tried the wrestler’s toil severe, in whichEuryalus superior proved to all.In the long leap Amphialus prevail’d;Elatreus most successful hurled the quoit,And at the cestus,29last, the noble sonOf Scheria’s King, Laodamas excell’d.When thus with contemplation of the games160All had been gratified, Alcinoüs’ sonLaodamas, arising, then address’d.Friends! ask we now the stranger, if he boastProficiency in aught. His figure seemsNot ill; in thighs, and legs, and arms he shewsMuch strength, and in his brawny neck; nor youthHath left him yet, though batter’d he appearsWith num’rous troubles, and misfortune-flaw’d.Nor know I hardships in the world so sureTo break the strongest down, as those by sea.170Then answer thus Euryalus return’d.Thou hast well said, Laodamas; thyselfApproaching, speak to him, and call him forth.Which when Alcinoüs’ noble offspring heard,Advancing from his seat, amid them allHe stood, and to Ulysses thus began.Stand forth, oh guest, thou also; prove thy skill(If any such thou hast) in games like ours,Which, likeliest, thou hast learn’d; for greater praiseHath no man, while he lives, than that he know180His feet to exercise and hands aright.Come then; make trial; scatter wide thy cares,We will not hold thee long; the ship is launch’dAlready, and the crew stand all prepared.To whom replied the wily Chief renown’dWherefore, as in derision, have ye call’dMe forth, Laodamas, to these exploits?No games have I, but many a grief, at heart,And with far other struggles worn, here sitDesirous only of conveyance home,190For which both King and people I implore.Then him Euryalus aloud reproach’d.I well believ’d it, friend! in thee the guiseI see not of a man expert in featsAthletic, of which various are perform’dIn ev’ry land; thou rather seem’st with shipsFamiliar; one, accustom’d to controulSome crew of trading mariners; well-learn’dIn stowage, pilotage, and wealth acquiredBy rapine, but of no gymnastic pow’rs.200To whom Ulysses, frowning dark, replied.Thou hast ill spoken, sir, and like a manRegardless whom he wrongs. Therefore the GodsGive not endowments graceful in each kind,Of body, mind, and utt’rance, all to one.This man in figure less excels, yet JoveCrowns him with eloquence; his hearers charm’dBehold him, while with modest confidenceHe bears the prize of fluent speech from all,And in the streets is gazed on as a God!210Another, in his form the Pow’rs aboveResembles, but no grace around his wordsTwines itself elegant. So, thou in formHast excellence to boast; a God, employ’dTo make a master-piece in human shape,Could but produce proportions such as thine;Yet hast thou an untutor’d intellect.Thou much hast moved me; thy unhandsome phraseHath roused my wrath; I am not, as thou say’st,A novice in these sports, but took the lead220In all, while youth and strength were on my side.But I am now in bands of sorrow held,And of misfortune, having much enduredIn war, and buffeting the boist’rous waves.Yet, though with mis’ry worn, I will essayMy strength among you; for thy words had teethWhose bite hath pinch’d and pain’d me to the proof.He said; and mantled as he was, a quoitUpstarting, seized, in bulk and weight all thoseTranscending far, by the Phæacians used.230Swiftly he swung, and from his vig’rous handSent it. Loud sang the stone, and as it flewThe maritime Phæacians low inclinedTheir heads beneath it; over all the marks,And far beyond them, sped the flying rock.Minerva, in a human form, the castProdigious measur’d, and aloud exclaim’d.Stranger! the blind himself might with his handsFeel out the ’vantage here. Thy quoit disdainsFellowship with a crowd, borne far beyond.240Fear not a losing game; Phæacian noneWill reach thy measure, much less overcast.She ceased; Ulysses, hardy Chief, rejoicedThat in the circus he had found a judgeSo favorable, and with brisker tone,As less in wrath, the multitude address’d.Young men, reach this, and I will quickly heaveAnother such, or yet a heavier quoit.Then, come the man whose courage prompts him forthTo box, to wrestle with me, or to run;250For ye have chafed me much, and I declineNo strife with any here, but challenge allPhæacia, save Laodamas alone.He is mine host. Who combats with his friend?To call to proof of hardiment the manWho entertains him in a foreign land,Would but evince the challenger a fool,Who, so, would cripple his own interest there.As for the rest, I none refuse, scorn none,But wish for trial of you, and to match260In opposition fair my force with yours.There is no game athletic in the useOf all mankind, too difficult for me;I handle well the polish’d bow, and firstAmid a thousand foes strike whom I mark,Although a throng of warriors at my sideImbattled, speed their shafts at the same time.Of all Achaia’s sons who erst at TroyDrew bow, the sole who bore the prize from meWas Philoctetes; I resign it else270To none now nourish’d with the fruits of earth.Yet mean I no comparison of myselfWith men of antient times, with Hercules,Or with Oechalian Eurytus, who, both,The Gods themselves in archery defied.Soon, therefore, died huge Eurytus, ere yetOld age he reach’d; him, angry to be call’dTo proof of archership, Apollo slew.But if ye name the spear, mine flies a lengthBy no man’s arrow reach’d; I fear no foil280From the Phæacians, save in speed alone;For I have suffer’d hardships, dash’d and drench’dBy many a wave, nor had I food on boardAt all times, therefore I am much unstrung.He spake; and silent the Phæacians sat,Of whom alone Alcinoüs thus replied.Since, stranger, not ungraceful is thy speech,Who hast but vindicated in our earsThy question’d prowess, angry that this youthReproach’d thee in the presence of us all,290That no man qualified to give his voiceIn public, might affront thy courage more;Now mark me, therefore, that in time to come,While feasting with thy children and thy spouse,Thou may’st inform the Heroes of thy landEven of our proficiency in artsBy Jove enjoin’d us in our father’s days.We boast not much the boxer’s skill, nor yetThe wrestler’s; but light-footed in the raceAre we, and navigators well-inform’d.300Our pleasures are the feast, the harp, the dance,Garments for change; the tepid bath; the bed.Come, ye Phæacians, beyond others skill’dTo tread the circus with harmonious steps,Come, play before us; that our guest, arrivedIn his own country, may inform his friendsHow far in seamanship we all excel,In running, in the dance, and in the song.Haste! bring ye to Demodocus his lyreClear-toned, left somewhere in our hall at home.310So spake the godlike King, at whose commandThe herald to the palace quick return’dTo seek the charming lyre. Meantime aroseNine arbiters, appointed to intendThe whole arrangement of the public games,To smooth the circus floor, and give the ringIts compass, widening the attentive throng.Ere long the herald came, bearing the harp,With which Demodocus supplied, advancedInto the middle area, around whom320Stood blooming youths, all skilful in the dance.With footsteps justly timed all smote at onceThe sacred floor; Ulysses wonder-fixt,The ceaseless play of twinkling30feet admired.Then, tuning his sweet chords, DemodocusA jocund strain began, his theme, the lovesOf Mars and Cytherea chaplet-crown’d;How first, clandestine, they embraced beneathThe roof of Vulcan, her, by many a giftSeduced, Mars won, and with adult’rous lust330The bed dishonour’d of the King of fire.The sun, a witness of their amorous sport,Bore swift the tale to Vulcan; he, apprizedOf that foul deed, at once his smithy sought,In secret darkness of his inmost soulContriving vengeance; to the stock he heav’dHis anvil huge, on which he forged a snareOf bands indissoluble, by no artTo be untied, durance for ever firm.The net prepared, he bore it, fiery-wroth,340To his own chamber and his nuptial couch,Where, stretching them from post to post, he wrapp’dWith those fine meshes all his bed around,And hung them num’rous from the roof, diffusedLike spiders’ filaments, which not the GodsThemselves could see, so subtle were the toils.When thus he had encircled all his bedOn ev’ry side, he feign’d a journey thenceTo Lemnos, of all cities that adornThe earth, the city that he favours most.350Nor kept the God of the resplendent reinsMars, drowsy watch, but seeing that the famedArtificer of heav’n had left his home,Flew to the house of Vulcan, hot to enjoyThe Goddess with the wreath-encircled brows.She, newly from her potent Sire return’dThe son of Saturn, sat. Mars, ent’ring, seiz’dHer hand, hung on it, and thus urg’d his suit.To bed, my fair, and let us love! for lo!Thine husband is from home, to Lemnos gone,360And to the Sintians, men of barb’rous speech.He spake, nor she was loth, but bedward tooLike him inclined; so then, to bed they went,And as they lay’d them down, down stream’d the netAround them, labour exquisite of handsBy ingenuity divine inform’d.Small room they found, so prison’d; not a limbCould either lift, or move, but felt at onceEntanglement from which was no escape.And now the glorious artist, ere he yet370Had reach’d the Lemnian isle, limping, return’dFrom his feign’d journey, for his spy the sunHad told him all. With aching heart he soughtHis home, and, standing in the vestibule,Frantic with indignation roar’d to heav’n,And roar’d again, summoning all the Gods.—Oh Jove! and all ye Pow’rs for ever blest!Here; hither look, that ye may view a sightLudicrous, yet too monstrous to be borne,How Venus always with dishonour loads380Her cripple spouse, doating on fiery Mars!And wherefore? for that he is fair in formAnd sound of foot, I ricket-boned and weak.Whose fault is this? Their fault, and theirs aloneWho gave me being; ill-employ’d were theyBegetting me, one, better far unborn.See where they couch together on my bedLascivious! ah, sight hateful to my eyes!Yet cooler wishes will they feel, I ween,To press my bed hereafter; here to sleep390Will little please them, fondly as they love.But these my toils and tangles will sufficeTo hold them here, till Jove shall yield me backComplete, the sum of all my nuptial giftsPaid to him for the shameless strumpet’s sakeHis daughter, as incontinent as fair.He said, and in the brazen-floor’d abodeOf Jove the Gods assembled. Neptune cameEarth-circling Pow’r; came Hermes friend of man,And, regent of the far-commanding bow,400Apollo also came; but chaste reserveBashful kept all the Goddesses at home.The Gods, by whose beneficence all live,Stood in the portal; infinite aroseThe laugh of heav’n, all looking down intentOn that shrewd project of the smith divine,And, turning to each other, thus they said.Bad works speed ill. The slow o’ertakes the swift.So Vulcan, tardy as he is, by craftHath outstript Mars, although the fleetest far410Of all who dwell in heav’n, and the light-heel’dMust pay the adult’rer’s forfeit to the lame.So spake the Pow’rs immortal; then the KingOf radiant shafts thus question’d Mercury.Jove’s son, heaven’s herald, Hermes, bounteous God!Would’stthousuch stricture close of bands endureFor golden Venus lying at thy side?Whom answer’d thus the messenger of heav’nArcher divine! yea, and with all my heart;And be the bands which wind us round about420Thrice these innumerable, and let allThe Gods and Goddesses in heav’n look on,So I may clasp Vulcan’s fair spouse the while.He spake; then laugh’d the Immortal Pow’rs again.But not so Neptune; he with earnest suitThe glorious artist urged to the releaseOf Mars, and thus in accents wing’d he said.Loose him; accept my promise; he shall payFull recompense in presence of us all.Then thus the limping smith far-famed replied.430Earth-circler Neptune, spare me that request.Lame suitor, lame security.31What bandsCould I devise for thee among the Gods,Should Mars, emancipated once, escape,Leaving both debt and durance, far behind?Him answer’d then the Shaker of the shores.I tell thee, Vulcan, that if Mars by flightShun payment, I will pay, myself, the fine.To whom the glorious artist of the skies.Thou must not, canst not, shalt not be refused.440So saying, the might of Vulcan loos’d the snare,And they, detain’d by those coercive bandsNo longer, from the couch upstarting, flew,Mars into Thrace, and to her Paphian homeThe Queen of smiles, where deep in myrtle grovesHer incense-breathing altar stands embow’r’d.Her there, the Graces laved, and oils diffusedO’er all her form, ambrosial, such as addFresh beauty to the Gods for ever young,And cloath’d her in the loveliest robes of heav’n.450Such was the theme of the illustrious bard.Ulysses with delight that song, and allThe maritime Phæacian concourse heard.Alcinoüs, then, (for in the dance they pass’dAll others) call’d his sons to dance alone,Halius and Laodamas; they gaveThe purple ball into their hands, the workExact of Polybus; one, re-supine,Upcast it high toward the dusky clouds,The other, springing into air, with ease460Received it, ere he sank to earth again.When thus they oft had sported with the ballThrown upward, next, with nimble interchangeThey pass’d it to each other many a time,Footing the plain, while ev’ry youth of allThe circus clapp’d his hands, and from beneathThe din of stamping feet fill’d all the air.Then, turning to Alcinoüs, thus the wiseUlysses spake: Alcinoüs! mighty King!Illustrious above all Phæacia’s sons!470Incomparable are ye in the dance,Ev’n as thou said’st. Amazement-fixt I stand!So he, whom hearing, the imperial mightExulted of Alcinoüs, and aloudTo his oar-skill’d Phæacians thus he spake.Phæacian Chiefs and Senators, attend!Wisdom beyond the common stint I markIn this our guest; good cause in my account,For which we should present him with a pledgeOf hospitality and love. The Chiefs480Are twelve, who, highest in command, controulThe people, and the thirteenth Chief am I.Bring each a golden talent, with a vestWell-bleach’d, and tunic; gratified with these,The stranger to our banquet shall repairExulting; bring them all without delay;And let Euryalus by word and giftAppease him, for his speech was unadvised.He ceas’d, whom all applauded, and at onceEach sent his herald forth to bring the gifts,490When thus Euryalus his Sire address’d.Alcinoüs! o’er Phæacia’s sons supreme!I will appease our guest, as thou command’st.This sword shall be his own, the blade all steel.The hilt of silver, and the unsullied sheathOf iv’ry recent from the carver’s hand,A gift like this he shall not need despise.So saying, his silver-studded sword he gaveInto his grasp, and, courteous, thus began.Hail, honour’d stranger! and if word of mine500Have harm’d thee, rashly spoken, let the windsBear all remembrance of it swift away!May the Gods give thee to behold againThy wife, and to attain thy native shore,Whence absent long, thou hast so much endured!To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.Hail also thou, and may the Gods, my friend,Grant thee felicity, and may never wantOf this thy sword touch thee in time to come,By whose kind phrase appeas’d my wrath subsides!510He ended, and athwart his shoulders threwThe weapon bright emboss’d. Now sank the sun,And those rich gifts arrived, which to the houseOf King Alcinoüs the heralds bore.Alcinoüs’ sons receiv’d them, and besideTheir royal mother placed the precious charge.The King then led the way, at whose abodeArrived, again they press’d their lofty thrones,And to Areta thus the monarch spake.Haste, bring a coffer; bring thy best, and store520A mantle and a sumptuous vest within;Warm for him, next, a brazen bath, by whichRefresh’d, and viewing in fair order placedThe noble gifts by the Phæacian LordsConferr’d on him, he may the more enjoyOur banquet, and the bard’s harmonious song.I give him also this my golden cupSplendid, elaborate; that, while he livesWhat time he pours libation forth to JoveAnd all the Gods, he may remember me.530He ended, at whose words Areta badeHer maidens with dispatch place o’er the fireA tripod ample-womb’d; obedient theyAdvanced a laver to the glowing hearth,Water infused, and kindled wood beneathThe flames encircling bright the bellied vase,Warm’d soon the flood within. Meantime, the QueenProducing from her chamber-stores a chestAll-elegant, within it placed the gold,And raiment, gifts of the Phæacian Chiefs,540With her own gifts, the mantle and the vest,And in wing’d accents to Ulysses said.Now take, thyself, the coffer’s lid in charge;Girdle it quickly with a cord, lest lossBefall thee on thy way, while thou perchanceShalt sleep secure on board the sable bark.Which when Ulysses heard, Hero renown’d,Adjusting close the lid, he cast a cordAround it which with many a mazy knotHe tied, by Circe taught him long before.550And now, the mistress of the household chargeSummon’d him to his bath; glad he beheldThe steaming vase, uncustom’d to its useE’er since his voyage from the isle of fairCalypso, although, while a guest with her,Ever familiar with it, as a God.Laved by attendant damsels, and with oilRefresh’d, he put his sumptuous tunic onAnd mantle, and proceeding from the bathTo the symposium, join’d the num’rous guests;560But, as he pass’d, the Princess all divineBeside the pillars of the portal, lostIn admiration of his graceful form,Stood, and in accents wing’d him thus address’d.Hail, stranger! at thy native home arrivedRemember me, thy first deliv’rer here.To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.Nausicaa! daughter of the noble KingAlcinoüs! So may Jove, high-thund’ring mateOf Juno, grant me to behold again570My native land, and my delightful home,As, even there, I will present my vowsTo thee, adoring thee as I adoreThe Gods themselves, virgin, by whom I live!He said, and on his throne beside the KingAlcinoüs sat. And now they portion’d outThe feast to all, and charg’d the cups with wine,And introducing by his hand the bardPhæacia’s glory, at the column’s sideThe herald placed Demodocus again.580Then, carving forth a portion from the loinsOf a huge brawn, of which uneaten stillLarge part and delicate remain’d, thus spakeUlysses—Herald! bear it to the bardFor his regale, whom I will soon embraceIn spite of sorrow; for respect is dueAnd veneration to the sacred bardFrom all mankind, for that the muse inspiresHerself his song, and loves the tuneful tribe.He ended, and the herald bore his charge590To the old hero who with joy receivedThat meed of honour at the bearer’s hand.Then, all, at once, assail’d the ready feast,And hunger now, and thirst both satisfied,Thus to Demodocus Ulysses spake.Demodocus! I give thee praise aboveAll mortals, for that either thee the museJove’s daughter teaches, or the King, himself,Apollo; since thou so record’st the fate,With such clear method, of Achaia’s host,600Their deeds heroic, and their num’rous toils,As thou hadst present been thyself, or learntFrom others present there, the glorious tale.Come, then, proceed; that rare invention sing,The horse of wood, which by Minerva’s aidEpeus framed, and which Ulysses erstConvey’d into the citadel of TroyWith warriors fill’d, who lay’d all Ilium waste.These things rehearse regular, and myselfWill, instant, publish in the ears of all610Thy fame, reporting thee a bard to whomApollo free imparts celestial song.He ended; then Apollo with full forceRush’d on Demodocus, and he beganWhat time the Greeks, first firing their own campSteer’d all their galleys from the shore of Troy.Already, in the horse conceal’d, his bandAround Ulysses sat; for Ilium’s sonsThemselves had drawn it to the citadel.And there the mischief stood. Then, strife arose620Among the Trojans compassing the horse,And threefold was the doubt; whether to cleaveThe hollow trunk asunder, or updrawnAloft, to cast it headlong from the rocks,Or to permit the enormous image, keptEntire, to stand an off’ring to the Gods,Which was their destined course; for Fate had fix’dTheir ruin sure, when once they had receivedWithin their walls that engine huge, in whichSat all the bravest Greecians with the fate630Of Ilium charged, and slaughter of her sons.He sang, how, from the horse effused, the GreeksLeft their capacious ambush, and the townMade desolate. To others, in his song,He gave the praise of wasting all beside,But told how, fierce as Mars, Ulysses join’dWith godlike Menelaus, to the houseFlew of Deiphobus; him there engagedIn direst fight he sang, and through the aidOf glorious Pallas, conqu’ror over all.640So sang the bard illustrious, at whose songUlysses melted, and tear after tearFell on his cheeks. As when a woman weeps,Her husband, who hath fallen in defenceOf his own city and his babes beforeThe gates; she, sinking, folds him in her armsAnd, gazing on him as he pants and dies,Shrieks at the sight; meantime, the enemySmiting her shoulders with the spear to toilCommand her and to bondage far away,650And her cheek fades with horror at the sound;Ulysses, so, from his moist lids let fall,The frequent tear. Unnoticed by the restThose drops, but not by King Alcinoüs, fellWho, seated at his side, his heavy sighsRemark’d, and the Phæacians thus bespake.Phæacian Chiefs and Senators attend!Now let Demodocus enjoin his harpSilence, for not alike grateful to allHis music sounds; during our feast, and since660The bard divine began, continual flowThe stranger’s sorrows, by remembrance causedOf some great woe which wraps his soul around.Then, let the bard suspend his song, that all(As most befits th’ occasion) may rejoice,Both guest and hosts together; since we makeThis voyage, and these gifts confer, in proofOf hospitality and unfeign’d love,Judging, with all wise men, the stranger-guestAnd suppliant worthy of a brother’s place.670And thou conceal not, artfully reserv’d,What I shall ask, far better plain declaredThan smother’d close; who art thou? speak thy name,The name by which thy father, mother, friendsAnd fellow-citizens, with all who dwellAround thy native city, in times pastHave known thee; for of all things human noneLives altogether nameless, whether goodOr whether bad, but ev’ry man receivesEv’n in the moment of his birth, a name.680Thy country, people, city, tell; the markAt which my ships, intelligent, shall aim,That they may bear thee thither; for our shipsNo pilot need or helm, as ships are wont,But know, themselves, our purpose; know besideAll cities, and all fruitful regions wellOf all the earth, and with dark clouds involv’dPlough rapid the rough Deep, fearless of harm,(Whate’er betide) and of disast’rous wreck.Yet thus, long since, my father I have heard690Nausithoüs speaking; Neptune, he would say,Is angry with us, for that safe we bearStrangers of ev’ry nation to their home;And he foretold a time when he would smiteIn vengeance some Phæacian gallant barkReturning after convoy of her charge,And fix her in the sable flood, transform’dInto a mountain, right before the town.So spake my hoary Sire, which let the GodAt his own pleasure do, or leave undone.700But tell me truth, and plainly. Where have beenThy wand’rings? in what regions of the earthHast thou arrived? what nations hast thou seen,What cities? say, how many hast thou foundHarsh, savage and unjust? how many, kindTo strangers, and disposed to fear the Gods?Say also, from what secret grief of heartThy sorrows flow, oft as thou hear’st the fateOf the Achaians, or of Ilium sung?That fate the Gods prepared; they spin the thread710Of man’s destruction, that in after daysThe bard may make the sad event his theme.Perish’d thy father or thy brother there?Or hast thou at the siege of Ilium lostFather-in-law, or son-in-law? for suchAre next and dearest to us after thoseWho share our own descent; or was the deadThy bosom-friend, whose heart was as thy own?For worthy as a brother of our loveThe constant friend and the discrete I deem.720

27Agamemnon having inquired at Delphos, at what time the Trojan war would end, was answered that the conclusion of it should happen at a time when a dispute should arise between two of his principal commanders. That dispute occurred at the time here alluded to, Achilles recommending force as most likely to reduce the city, and Ulysses stratagem.28Τοισι δ’ απο νυσοης τετατο δρομος—This expression is by the commentators generally understood to be significant of the effort which they made at starting, but it is not improbable that it relates merely to the measurement of the course, otherwise,καρπαλιμως επετοντοwill be tautologous.29In boxing.30The Translator is indebted to Mr Grey for an epithet more expressive of the original (Μαρμαρυγας) than any other, perhaps, in all our language. See the Ode on the Progress of Poetry.“To brisk notes in cadence beating,Glance theirmany-twinklingfeet”31The original line has received such a variety of interpretations, that a Translator seems free to choose. It has, however, a proverbial turn, which I have endeavoured to preserve, and have adopted the sense of the words which appears best to accord with what immediately follows. Vulcan pleads his own inability to enforce the demand, as a circumstance that made Neptune’s promise unacceptable.

28Τοισι δ’ απο νυσοης τετατο δρομος—This expression is by the commentators generally understood to be significant of the effort which they made at starting, but it is not improbable that it relates merely to the measurement of the course, otherwise,καρπαλιμως επετοντοwill be tautologous.

29In boxing.

30The Translator is indebted to Mr Grey for an epithet more expressive of the original (Μαρμαρυγας) than any other, perhaps, in all our language. See the Ode on the Progress of Poetry.“To brisk notes in cadence beating,Glance theirmany-twinklingfeet”

30The Translator is indebted to Mr Grey for an epithet more expressive of the original (Μαρμαρυγας) than any other, perhaps, in all our language. See the Ode on the Progress of Poetry.

“To brisk notes in cadence beating,Glance theirmany-twinklingfeet”

31The original line has received such a variety of interpretations, that a Translator seems free to choose. It has, however, a proverbial turn, which I have endeavoured to preserve, and have adopted the sense of the words which appears best to accord with what immediately follows. Vulcan pleads his own inability to enforce the demand, as a circumstance that made Neptune’s promise unacceptable.

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