BOOK XIIARGUMENTUlysses, pursuing his narrative, relates his return from the shades to Circe’s island, the precautions given him by that Goddess, his escape from the Sirens, and from Scylla and Charybdis; his arrival in Sicily, where his companions, having slain and eaten the oxen of the Sun, are afterward shipwrecked and lost; and concludes the whole with an account of his arrival, alone, on the mast of his vessel, at the island of Calypso.And now, borne seaward from the river-streamOf the Oceanus, we plow’d againThe spacious Deep, and reach’d th’ Ææan isle,Where, daughter of the dawn, Aurora takesHer choral sports, and whence the sun ascends.We, there arriving, thrust our bark agroundOn the smooth beach, then landed, and on shoreReposed, expectant of the sacred dawn.But soon as day-spring’s daughter rosy-palm’dLook’d forth again, sending my friends before,10I bade them bring Elpenor’s body downFrom the abode of Circe to the beach.Then, on the utmost headland of the coastWe timber fell’d, and, sorrowing o’er the dead,His fun’ral rites water’d with tears profuse.The dead consumed, and with the dead his arms,We heap’d his tomb, and the sepulchral postErecting, fix’d his shapely oar aloft.Thus, punctual, we perform’d; nor our returnFrom Ades knew not Circe, but attired20In haste, ere long arrived, with whom appear’dHer female train with plenteous viands charged,And bright wine rosy-red. Amidst us allStanding, the beauteous Goddess thus began.Ah miserable! who have sought the shadesAlive! while others of the human raceDie only once, appointed twice to die!Come—take ye food; drink wine; and on the shoreAll day regale, for ye shall hence againAt day-spring o’er the Deep; but I will mark30Myself your future course, nor uninform’dLeave you in aught, lest, through some dire mistake,By sea or land new mis’ries ye incur.The Goddess spake, whose invitation kindWe glad accepted; thus we feasting satTill set of sun, and quaffing richest wine;But when the sun went down and darkness fell,My crew beside the hawsers slept, while meThe Goddess by the hand leading apart,First bade me sit, then, seated opposite,40Enquired, minute, of all that I had seen,And I, from first to last, recounted all.Then, thus the awful Goddess in return.Thus far thy toils are finish’d. Now attend!Mark well my words, of which the Gods will sureThemselves remind thee in the needful hour.First shalt thou reach the Sirens; they the heartsEnchant of all who on their coast arrive.The wretch, who unforewarn’d approaching, hearsThe Sirens’ voice, his wife and little-ones50Ne’er fly to gratulate his glad return,But him the Sirens sitting in the meadsCharm with mellifluous song, while all aroundThe bones accumulated lie of menNow putrid, and the skins mould’ring away.But, pass them thou, and, lest thy people hearThose warblings, ere thou yet approach, fill allTheir ears with wax moulded between thy palms;But as for thee—thou hear them if thou wilt.Yet let thy people bind thee to the mast60Erect, encompassing thy feet and armsWith cordage well-secured to the mast-foot,So shalt thou, raptur’d, hear the Sirens’ song.But if thou supplicate to be released,Or give such order, then, with added cordsLet thy companions bind thee still the more.When thus thy people shall have safely pass’dThe Sirens by, think not from me to learnWhat course thou next shalt steer; two will occur;Delib’rate chuse; I shall describe them both.70Here vaulted rocks impend, dash’d by the wavesImmense of Amphitrite azure-eyed;The blessed Gods those rocks, Erratic, call.Birds cannot pass them safe; no, not the dovesWhich his ambrosia bear to Father Jove,But even of those doves the slipp’ry rockProves fatal still to one, for which the GodSupplies another, lest the number fail.No ship, what ship soever there arrives,Escapes them, but both mariners and planks80Whelm’d under billows of the Deep, or, caughtBy fiery tempests, sudden disappear.Those rocks the billow-cleaving bark aloneThe Argo, further’d by the vows of all,Pass’d safely, sailing from Ææta’s isle;Nor she had pass’d, but surely dash’d had beenOn those huge rocks, but that, propitious stillTo Jason, Juno sped her safe along.These rocks are two; one lifts his summit sharpHigh as the spacious heav’ns, wrapt in dun clouds90Perpetual, which nor autumn sees dispers’dNor summer, for the sun shines never there;No mortal man might climb it or descend,Though twice ten hands and twice ten feet he own’d,For it is levigated as by art.Down scoop’d to Erebus, a cavern drearYawns in the centre of its western side;Pass it, renown’d Ulysses! but aloofSo far, that a keen arrow smartly sentForth from thy bark should fail to reach the cave.100There Scylla dwells, and thence her howl is heardTremendous; shrill her voice is as the noteOf hound new-whelp’d, but hideous her aspect,Such as no mortal man, nor ev’n a GodEncount’ring her, should with delight survey.Her feet are twelve, all fore-feet; six her necksOf hideous length, each clubb’d into a headTerrific, and each head with fangs is arm’dIn triple row, thick planted, stored with death.Plunged to her middle in the hollow den110She lurks, protruding from the black abyssHer heads, with which the rav’ning monster divesIn quest of dolphins, dog-fish, or of preyMore bulky, such as in the roaring gulphsOf Amphitrite without end abounds.It is no seaman’s boast that e’er he slipp’dHer cavern by, unharm’d. In ev’ry mouthShe bears upcaught a mariner away.The other rock, Ulysses, thou shalt findHumbler, a bow-shot only from the first;120On this a wild fig grows broad-leav’d, and hereCharybdis dire ingulphs the sable flood.Each day she thrice disgorges, and each dayThrice swallows it. Ah! well forewarn’d, bewareWhat time she swallows, that thou come not nigh,For not himself, Neptune, could snatch thee thence.Close passing Scylla’s rock, shoot swift thy barkBeyond it, since the loss of six aloneIs better far than shipwreck made of all.So Circe spake, to whom I thus replied.130Tell me, O Goddess, next, and tell me true!If, chance, from fell Charybdis I escape,May I not also save from Scylla’s forceMy people; should the monster threaten them?I said, and quick the Goddess in return.Unhappy! can exploits and toils of warStill please thee? yield’st not to the Gods themselves?She is no mortal, but a deathless pest,Impracticable, savage, battle-proof.Defence is vain; flight is thy sole resource.140For should’st thou linger putting on thy armsBeside the rock, beware, lest darting forthHer num’rous heads, she seize with ev’ry mouthA Greecian, and with others, even thee.Pass therefore swift, and passing, loud invokeCratais, mother of this plague of man,Who will forbid her to assail thee more.Thou, next, shalt reach Thrinacia; there, the beevesAnd fatted flocks graze num’rous of the Sun;Sev’n herds; as many flocks of snowy fleece;150Fifty in each; they breed not, neither die,Nor are they kept by less than Goddesses,Lampetia fair, and Phäethusa, bothBy nymph Neæra to Hyperion borne.Them, soon as she had train’d them to an ageProportion’d to that charge, their mother sentInto Thrinacia, there to dwell and keepInviolate their father’s flocks and herds.If, anxious for a safe return, thou spareThose herds and flocks, though after much endured,160Ye may at last your Ithaca regain;But should’st thou violate them, I foretellDestruction of thy ship and of thy crew,And though thyself escape, thou shalt returnLate, in ill plight, and all thy friends destroy’d.She ended, and the golden morning dawn’d.Then, all-divine, her graceful steps she turn’dBack through the isle, and, at the beach arrived,I summon’d all my followers to ascendThe bark again, and cast the hawsers loose.170They, at my voice, embarking, fill’d in ranksThe seats, and rowing, thresh’d the hoary flood.And now, melodious Circe, nymph divine,Sent after us a canvas-stretching breeze,Pleasant companion of our course, and we(The decks and benches clear’d) untoiling sat,While managed gales sped swift the bark along.Then, with dejected heart, thus I began.Oh friends! (for it is needful that not oneOr two alone the admonition hear180Of Circe, beauteous prophetess divine)To all I speak, that whether we escapeOr perish, all may be, at least, forewarn’d.She bids us, first, avoid the dang’rous songOf the sweet Sirens and their flow’ry meads.Me only she permits those strains to hear;But ye shall bind me with coercion strongOf cordage well-secured to the mast-foot,And by no struggles to be loos’d of mine.But should I supplicate to be released190Or give such order, then, with added cordsBe it your part to bind me still the more.Thus with distinct precaution I preparedMy people; rapid in her course, meantime,My gallant bark approach’d the Sirens’ isle,For brisk and favourable blew the wind.Then fell the wind suddenly, and sereneA breathless calm ensued, while all aroundThe billows slumber’d, lull’d by pow’r divine.Up-sprang my people, and the folded sails200Bestowing in the hold, sat to their oars,Which with their polish’d blades whiten’d the Deep.I, then, with edge of steel sev’ring minuteA waxen cake, chafed it and moulded itBetween my palms; ere long the ductile massGrew warm, obedient to that ceaseless force,And to Hyperion’s all-pervading beams.With that soft liniment I fill’d the earsOf my companions, man by man, and theyMy feet and arms with strong coercion bound210Of cordage to the mast-foot well secured.Then down they sat, and, rowing, thresh’d the brine.But when with rapid course we had arrivedWithin such distance as a voice may reach,Not unperceived by them the gliding barkApproach’d, and, thus, harmonious they began.Ulysses, Chief by ev’ry tongue extoll’d,Achaia’s boast, oh hither steer thy bark!Here stay thy course, and listen to our lay!These shores none passes in his sable ship220Till, first, the warblings of our voice he hear,Then, happier hence and wiser he departs.All that the Greeks endured, and all the illsInflicted by the Gods on Troy, we know,Know all that passes on the boundless earth.So they with voices sweet their music pouredMelodious on my ear, winning with easeMy heart’s desire to listen, and by signsI bade my people, instant, set me free.But they incumbent row’d, and from their seats230Eurylochus and Perimedes sprangWith added cords to bind me still the more.This danger past, and when the Sirens’ voice,Now left remote, had lost its pow’r to charm,Then, my companions freeing from the waxTheir ears, deliver’d me from my restraint.The island left afar, soon I discern’dHuge waves, and smoke, and horrid thund’rings heard.All sat aghast; forth flew at once the oarsFrom ev’ry hand, and with a clash the waves240Smote all together; check’d, the galley stood,By billow-sweeping oars no longer urged,And I, throughout the bark, man after manEncouraged all, addressing thus my crew.We meet not, now, my friends, our first distress.This evil is not greater than we foundWhen the huge Cyclops in his hollow denImprison’d us, yet even thence we ’scaped,My intrepidity and fertile thoughtOpening the way; and we shall recollect250These dangers also, in due time, with joy.Come, then—pursue my counsel. Ye your seatsStill occupying, smite the furrow’d floodWith well-timed strokes, that by the will of JoveWe may escape, perchance, this death, secure.To thee the pilot thus I speak, (my wordsMark thou, for at thy touch the rudder moves)This smoke, and these tumultuous waves avoid;Steer wide of both; yet with an eye intentOn yonder rock, lest unaware thou hold260Too near a course, and plunge us into harm.So I; with whose advice all, quick, complied.But Scylla I as yet named not, (that woeWithout a cure) lest, terrified, my crewShould all renounce their oars, and crowd below.Just then, forgetful of the strict commandOf Circe not to arm, I cloath’d me allIn radiant armour, grasp’d two quiv’ring spears,And to the deck ascended at the prow,Expecting earliest notice there, what time270The rock-bred Scylla should annoy my friends.But I discern’d her not, nor could, althoughTo weariness of sight the dusky rockI vigilant explored. Thus, many a groanHeaving, we navigated sad the streight,For here stood Scylla, while Charybdis thereWith hoarse throat deep absorb’d the briny flood.Oft as she vomited the deluge forth,Like water cauldron’d o’er a furious fireThe whirling Deep all murmur’d, and the spray280On both those rocky summits fell in show’rs.But when she suck’d the salt wave down again,Then, all the pool appear’d wheeling aboutWithin, the rock rebellow’d, and the seaDrawn off into that gulph disclosed to viewThe oozy bottom. Us pale horror seized.Thus, dreading death, with fast-set eyes we watch’dCharybdis; meantime, Scylla from the barkCaught six away, the bravest of my friends.With eyes, that moment, on my ship and crew290Retorted, I beheld the legs and armsOf those whom she uplifted in the air;On me they call’d, my name, the last, last timePronouncing then, in agony of heart.As when from some bold point among the rocksThe angler, with his taper rod in hand,Casts forth his bait to snare the smaller fry,He swings away remote his guarded line,56Then jerks his gasping prey forth from the Deep,So Scylla them raised gasping to the rock,300And at her cavern’s mouth devour’d them loud-Shrieking, and stretching forth to me their armsIn sign of hopeless mis’ry. Ne’er beheldThese eyes in all the seas that I have roam’d,A sight so piteous, nor in all my toils.From Scylla and Charybdis dire escaped,We reach’d the noble island of the SunEre long, where bright Hyperion’s beauteous herdsBroad-fronted grazed, and his well-batten’d flocks.I, in the bark and on the sea, the voice310Of oxen bellowing in hovels heard,And of loud-bleating sheep; then dropp’d the wordInto my memory of the sightless Seer,Theban Tiresias, and the caution strictOf Circe, my Ææan monitress,Who with such force had caution’d me to avoidThe island of the Sun, joy of mankind.Thus then to my companions, sad, I spake.Hear ye, my friends! although long time distress’d,The words prophetic of the Theban seer320And of Ææan Circe, whose adviceWas oft repeated to me to avoidThis island of the Sun, joy of mankind.There, said the Goddess, dread your heaviest woes,Pass the isle, therefore, scudding swift away.I ceased; they me with consternation heard,And harshly thus Eurylochus replied.Ulysses, ruthless Chief! no toils impairThy strength, of senseless iron thou art form’d,Who thy companions weary and o’erwatch’d330Forbidd’st to disembark on this fair isle,Where now, at last, we might with ease regale.Thou, rash, command’st us, leaving it afar,To roam all night the Ocean’s dreary waste;But winds to ships injurious spring by night,And how shall we escape a dreadful deathIf, chance, a sudden gust from South ariseOr stormy West, that dash in pieces oftThe vessel, even in the Gods’ despight?Prepare we rather now, as night enjoins,340Our evening fare beside the sable bark,In which at peep of day we may againLaunch forth secure into the boundless flood.He ceas’d, whom all applauded. Then I knewThat sorrow by the will of adverse heav’nApproach’d, and in wing’d accents thus replied.I suffer force, Eurylochus! and yieldO’er-ruled by numbers. Come, then, swear ye allA solemn oath, that should we find an herdOr num’rous flock, none here shall either sheep350Or bullock slay, by appetite profaneSeduced, but shall the viands eat contentWhich from immortal Circe we received.I spake; they readily a solemn oathSware all, and when their oath was fully sworn,Within a creek where a fresh fountain roseThey moor’d the bark, and, issuing, beganBrisk preparation of their evening cheer.But when nor hunger now nor thirst remain’dUnsated, recollecting, then, their friends360By Scylla seized and at her cave devour’d,They mourn’d, nor ceased to mourn them, till they slept.The night’s third portion come, when now the starsHad travers’d the mid-sky, cloud-gath’rer JoveCall’d forth a vehement wind with tempest charged,Menacing earth and sea with pitchy cloudsTremendous, and the night fell dark from heav’n.But when Aurora, daughter of the day,Look’d rosy forth, we haled, drawn inland more,Our bark into a grot, where nymphs were wont370Graceful to tread the dance, or to repose.Convening there my friends, I thus began.My friends! food fails us not, but bread is yetAnd wine on board. Abstain we from the herds,Lest harm ensue; for ye behold the flocksAnd herds of a most potent God, the Sun!Whose eye and watchful ear none may elude.So saying, I sway’d the gen’rous minds of all.A month complete the South wind ceaseless blew,Nor other wind blew next, save East and South,380Yet they, while neither food nor rosy wineFail’d them, the herds harm’d not, through fear to die.But, our provisions failing, they employedWhole days in search of food, snaring with hooksBirds, fishes, of what kind soe’er they might.By famine urged. I solitary roam’dMeantime the isle, seeking by pray’r to moveSome God to shew us a deliv’rance thence.When, roving thus the isle, I had at lengthLeft all my crew remote, laving my hands390Where shelter warm I found from the rude blast,I supplicated ev’ry Pow’r above;But they my pray’rs answer’d with slumbers softShed o’er my eyes, and with pernicious artEurylochus, the while, my friends harangued.My friends! afflicted as ye are, yet hearA fellow-suff’rer. Death, however caused,Abhorrence moves in miserable man,But death by famine is a fate of allMost to be fear’d. Come—let us hither drive400And sacrifice to the Immortal Pow’rsThe best of all the oxen of the Sun,Resolving thus—that soon as we shall reachOur native Ithaca, we will erectTo bright Hyperion an illustrious fane,Which with magnificent and num’rous giftsWe will enrich. But should he chuse to sinkOur vessel, for his stately beeves incensed,And should, with him, all heav’n conspire our death,I rather had with open mouth, at once,410Meeting the billows, perish, than by slowAnd pining waste here in this desert isle.So spake Eurylochus, whom all approved.Then, driving all the fattest of the herdFew paces only, (for the sacred beevesGrazed rarely distant from the bark) they stoodCompassing them around, and, grasping eachGreen foliage newly pluck’d from saplings tall,(For barley none in all our bark remain’d)Worshipp’d the Gods in pray’r. Pray’r made, they slewAnd flay’d them, and the thighs with double fat421Investing, spread them o’er with slices crude.No wine had they with which to consecrateThe blazing rites, but with libation poorOf water hallow’d the interior parts.Now, when the thighs were burnt, and each had sharedHis portion of the maw, and when the restAll-slash’d and scored hung roasting at the fire,Sleep, in that moment, suddenly my eyesForsaking, to the shore I bent my way.430But ere the station of our bark I reach’d,The sav’ry steam greeted me. At the scentI wept aloud, and to the Gods exclaim’d.Oh Jupiter, and all ye Pow’rs above!With cruel sleep and fatal ye have lull’dMy cares to rest, such horrible offenceMeantime my rash companions have devised.Then, flew long-stoled Lampetia to the SunAt once with tidings of his slaughter’d beeves,And he, incensed, the Immortals thus address’d.440Jove, and ye everlasting Pow’rs divine!Avenge me instant on the crew profaneOf Laertiades; Ulysses’ friendsHave dared to slay my beeves, which I with joyBeheld, both when I climb’d the starry heav’ns,And when to earth I sloped my “westring wheels,”But if they yield me not amercement dueAnd honourable for my loss, to HellI will descend and give the ghosts my beams.Then, thus the cloud-assembler God replied.450Sun! shine thou still on the Immortal Pow’rs,And on the teeming earth, frail man’s abode.My candent bolts can in a moment reachAnd split their flying bark in the mid-sea.These things Calypso told me, taught, herself,By herald Hermes, as she oft affirm’d.But when, descending to the shore, I reach’dAt length my bark, with aspect stern and toneI reprimanded them, yet no redressCould frame, or remedy—the beeves were dead.460Soon follow’d signs portentous sent from heav’n.The skins all crept, and on the spits the fleshBoth roast and raw bellow’d, as with the voiceOf living beeves. Thus my devoted friendsDriving the fattest oxen of the Sun,Feasted six days entire; but when the sev’nthBy mandate of Saturnian Jove appeared,The storm then ceased to rage, and we, againEmbarking, launch’d our galley, rear’d the mast,And gave our unfurl’d canvas to the wind.470The island left afar, and other landAppearing none, but sky alone and sea,Right o’er the hollow bark Saturnian JoveHung a cærulean cloud, dark’ning the Deep.Not long my vessel ran, for, blowing wild,Now came shrill Zephyrus; a stormy gustSnapp’d sheer the shrouds on both sides; backward fellThe mast, and with loose tackle strew’d the hold;Striking the pilot in the stern, it crush’dHis scull together; he a diver’s plunge480Made downward, and his noble spirit fled.Meantime, Jove thund’ring, hurl’d into the shipHis bolts; she, smitten by the fires of Jove,Quaked all her length; with sulphur fill’d she reek’d,And o’er her sides headlong my people plungedLike sea-mews, interdicted by that strokeOf wrath divine to hope their country more.But I, the vessel still paced to and fro,Till, fever’d by the boist’rous waves, her sidesForsook the keel now left to float alone.490Snapp’d where it join’d the keel the mast had fall’n,But fell encircled with a leathern brace,Which it retain’d; binding with this the mastAnd keel together, on them both I sat,Borne helpless onward by the dreadful gale.And now the West subsided, and the SouthArose instead, with mis’ry charged for me,That I might measure back my course againTo dire Charybdis. All night long I drove,And when the sun arose, at Scylla’s rock500Once more, and at Charybdis’ gulph arrived.It was the time when she absorb’d profoundThe briny flood, but by a wave upborneI seized the branches fast of the wild-fig.57To which, bat-like, I clung; yet where to fixMy foot secure found not, or where to ascend,For distant lay the roots, and distant shotThe largest arms erect into the air,O’ershadowing all Charybdis; therefore hardI clench’d the boughs, till she disgorg’d again510Both keel and mast. Not undesired by meThey came, though late; for at what hour the judge,After decision made of num’rous strifes58Between young candidates for honour, leavesThe forum for refreshment’ sake at home,Then was it that the mast and keel emerged.Deliver’d to a voluntary fall,Fast by those beams I dash’d into the flood,And seated on them both, with oary palmsImpell’d them; nor the Sire of Gods and men520Permitted Scylla to discern me more,Else had I perish’d by her fangs at last.Nine days I floated thence, and, on the tenthDark night, the Gods convey’d me to the isleOgygia, habitation of divineCalypso, by whose hospitable aidAnd assiduity, my strength revived.But wherefore this? ye have already learn’dThat hist’ry, thou and thy illustrious spouse;I told it yesterday, and hate a tale530Once amply told, then, needless, traced again.56They passed the line through a pipe of horn, to secure it against the fishes’ bite.57Seeline 120.58He had therefore held by the fig-tree from sunrise till afternoon.
Ulysses, pursuing his narrative, relates his return from the shades to Circe’s island, the precautions given him by that Goddess, his escape from the Sirens, and from Scylla and Charybdis; his arrival in Sicily, where his companions, having slain and eaten the oxen of the Sun, are afterward shipwrecked and lost; and concludes the whole with an account of his arrival, alone, on the mast of his vessel, at the island of Calypso.
And now, borne seaward from the river-streamOf the Oceanus, we plow’d againThe spacious Deep, and reach’d th’ Ææan isle,Where, daughter of the dawn, Aurora takesHer choral sports, and whence the sun ascends.We, there arriving, thrust our bark agroundOn the smooth beach, then landed, and on shoreReposed, expectant of the sacred dawn.But soon as day-spring’s daughter rosy-palm’dLook’d forth again, sending my friends before,10I bade them bring Elpenor’s body downFrom the abode of Circe to the beach.Then, on the utmost headland of the coastWe timber fell’d, and, sorrowing o’er the dead,His fun’ral rites water’d with tears profuse.The dead consumed, and with the dead his arms,We heap’d his tomb, and the sepulchral postErecting, fix’d his shapely oar aloft.Thus, punctual, we perform’d; nor our returnFrom Ades knew not Circe, but attired20In haste, ere long arrived, with whom appear’dHer female train with plenteous viands charged,And bright wine rosy-red. Amidst us allStanding, the beauteous Goddess thus began.Ah miserable! who have sought the shadesAlive! while others of the human raceDie only once, appointed twice to die!Come—take ye food; drink wine; and on the shoreAll day regale, for ye shall hence againAt day-spring o’er the Deep; but I will mark30Myself your future course, nor uninform’dLeave you in aught, lest, through some dire mistake,By sea or land new mis’ries ye incur.The Goddess spake, whose invitation kindWe glad accepted; thus we feasting satTill set of sun, and quaffing richest wine;But when the sun went down and darkness fell,My crew beside the hawsers slept, while meThe Goddess by the hand leading apart,First bade me sit, then, seated opposite,40Enquired, minute, of all that I had seen,And I, from first to last, recounted all.Then, thus the awful Goddess in return.Thus far thy toils are finish’d. Now attend!Mark well my words, of which the Gods will sureThemselves remind thee in the needful hour.First shalt thou reach the Sirens; they the heartsEnchant of all who on their coast arrive.The wretch, who unforewarn’d approaching, hearsThe Sirens’ voice, his wife and little-ones50Ne’er fly to gratulate his glad return,But him the Sirens sitting in the meadsCharm with mellifluous song, while all aroundThe bones accumulated lie of menNow putrid, and the skins mould’ring away.But, pass them thou, and, lest thy people hearThose warblings, ere thou yet approach, fill allTheir ears with wax moulded between thy palms;But as for thee—thou hear them if thou wilt.Yet let thy people bind thee to the mast60Erect, encompassing thy feet and armsWith cordage well-secured to the mast-foot,So shalt thou, raptur’d, hear the Sirens’ song.But if thou supplicate to be released,Or give such order, then, with added cordsLet thy companions bind thee still the more.When thus thy people shall have safely pass’dThe Sirens by, think not from me to learnWhat course thou next shalt steer; two will occur;Delib’rate chuse; I shall describe them both.70Here vaulted rocks impend, dash’d by the wavesImmense of Amphitrite azure-eyed;The blessed Gods those rocks, Erratic, call.Birds cannot pass them safe; no, not the dovesWhich his ambrosia bear to Father Jove,But even of those doves the slipp’ry rockProves fatal still to one, for which the GodSupplies another, lest the number fail.No ship, what ship soever there arrives,Escapes them, but both mariners and planks80Whelm’d under billows of the Deep, or, caughtBy fiery tempests, sudden disappear.Those rocks the billow-cleaving bark aloneThe Argo, further’d by the vows of all,Pass’d safely, sailing from Ææta’s isle;Nor she had pass’d, but surely dash’d had beenOn those huge rocks, but that, propitious stillTo Jason, Juno sped her safe along.These rocks are two; one lifts his summit sharpHigh as the spacious heav’ns, wrapt in dun clouds90Perpetual, which nor autumn sees dispers’dNor summer, for the sun shines never there;No mortal man might climb it or descend,Though twice ten hands and twice ten feet he own’d,For it is levigated as by art.Down scoop’d to Erebus, a cavern drearYawns in the centre of its western side;Pass it, renown’d Ulysses! but aloofSo far, that a keen arrow smartly sentForth from thy bark should fail to reach the cave.100There Scylla dwells, and thence her howl is heardTremendous; shrill her voice is as the noteOf hound new-whelp’d, but hideous her aspect,Such as no mortal man, nor ev’n a GodEncount’ring her, should with delight survey.Her feet are twelve, all fore-feet; six her necksOf hideous length, each clubb’d into a headTerrific, and each head with fangs is arm’dIn triple row, thick planted, stored with death.Plunged to her middle in the hollow den110She lurks, protruding from the black abyssHer heads, with which the rav’ning monster divesIn quest of dolphins, dog-fish, or of preyMore bulky, such as in the roaring gulphsOf Amphitrite without end abounds.It is no seaman’s boast that e’er he slipp’dHer cavern by, unharm’d. In ev’ry mouthShe bears upcaught a mariner away.The other rock, Ulysses, thou shalt findHumbler, a bow-shot only from the first;120On this a wild fig grows broad-leav’d, and hereCharybdis dire ingulphs the sable flood.Each day she thrice disgorges, and each dayThrice swallows it. Ah! well forewarn’d, bewareWhat time she swallows, that thou come not nigh,For not himself, Neptune, could snatch thee thence.Close passing Scylla’s rock, shoot swift thy barkBeyond it, since the loss of six aloneIs better far than shipwreck made of all.So Circe spake, to whom I thus replied.130Tell me, O Goddess, next, and tell me true!If, chance, from fell Charybdis I escape,May I not also save from Scylla’s forceMy people; should the monster threaten them?I said, and quick the Goddess in return.Unhappy! can exploits and toils of warStill please thee? yield’st not to the Gods themselves?She is no mortal, but a deathless pest,Impracticable, savage, battle-proof.Defence is vain; flight is thy sole resource.140For should’st thou linger putting on thy armsBeside the rock, beware, lest darting forthHer num’rous heads, she seize with ev’ry mouthA Greecian, and with others, even thee.Pass therefore swift, and passing, loud invokeCratais, mother of this plague of man,Who will forbid her to assail thee more.Thou, next, shalt reach Thrinacia; there, the beevesAnd fatted flocks graze num’rous of the Sun;Sev’n herds; as many flocks of snowy fleece;150Fifty in each; they breed not, neither die,Nor are they kept by less than Goddesses,Lampetia fair, and Phäethusa, bothBy nymph Neæra to Hyperion borne.Them, soon as she had train’d them to an ageProportion’d to that charge, their mother sentInto Thrinacia, there to dwell and keepInviolate their father’s flocks and herds.If, anxious for a safe return, thou spareThose herds and flocks, though after much endured,160Ye may at last your Ithaca regain;But should’st thou violate them, I foretellDestruction of thy ship and of thy crew,And though thyself escape, thou shalt returnLate, in ill plight, and all thy friends destroy’d.She ended, and the golden morning dawn’d.Then, all-divine, her graceful steps she turn’dBack through the isle, and, at the beach arrived,I summon’d all my followers to ascendThe bark again, and cast the hawsers loose.170They, at my voice, embarking, fill’d in ranksThe seats, and rowing, thresh’d the hoary flood.And now, melodious Circe, nymph divine,Sent after us a canvas-stretching breeze,Pleasant companion of our course, and we(The decks and benches clear’d) untoiling sat,While managed gales sped swift the bark along.Then, with dejected heart, thus I began.Oh friends! (for it is needful that not oneOr two alone the admonition hear180Of Circe, beauteous prophetess divine)To all I speak, that whether we escapeOr perish, all may be, at least, forewarn’d.She bids us, first, avoid the dang’rous songOf the sweet Sirens and their flow’ry meads.Me only she permits those strains to hear;But ye shall bind me with coercion strongOf cordage well-secured to the mast-foot,And by no struggles to be loos’d of mine.But should I supplicate to be released190Or give such order, then, with added cordsBe it your part to bind me still the more.Thus with distinct precaution I preparedMy people; rapid in her course, meantime,My gallant bark approach’d the Sirens’ isle,For brisk and favourable blew the wind.Then fell the wind suddenly, and sereneA breathless calm ensued, while all aroundThe billows slumber’d, lull’d by pow’r divine.Up-sprang my people, and the folded sails200Bestowing in the hold, sat to their oars,Which with their polish’d blades whiten’d the Deep.I, then, with edge of steel sev’ring minuteA waxen cake, chafed it and moulded itBetween my palms; ere long the ductile massGrew warm, obedient to that ceaseless force,And to Hyperion’s all-pervading beams.With that soft liniment I fill’d the earsOf my companions, man by man, and theyMy feet and arms with strong coercion bound210Of cordage to the mast-foot well secured.Then down they sat, and, rowing, thresh’d the brine.But when with rapid course we had arrivedWithin such distance as a voice may reach,Not unperceived by them the gliding barkApproach’d, and, thus, harmonious they began.Ulysses, Chief by ev’ry tongue extoll’d,Achaia’s boast, oh hither steer thy bark!Here stay thy course, and listen to our lay!These shores none passes in his sable ship220Till, first, the warblings of our voice he hear,Then, happier hence and wiser he departs.All that the Greeks endured, and all the illsInflicted by the Gods on Troy, we know,Know all that passes on the boundless earth.So they with voices sweet their music pouredMelodious on my ear, winning with easeMy heart’s desire to listen, and by signsI bade my people, instant, set me free.But they incumbent row’d, and from their seats230Eurylochus and Perimedes sprangWith added cords to bind me still the more.This danger past, and when the Sirens’ voice,Now left remote, had lost its pow’r to charm,Then, my companions freeing from the waxTheir ears, deliver’d me from my restraint.The island left afar, soon I discern’dHuge waves, and smoke, and horrid thund’rings heard.All sat aghast; forth flew at once the oarsFrom ev’ry hand, and with a clash the waves240Smote all together; check’d, the galley stood,By billow-sweeping oars no longer urged,And I, throughout the bark, man after manEncouraged all, addressing thus my crew.We meet not, now, my friends, our first distress.This evil is not greater than we foundWhen the huge Cyclops in his hollow denImprison’d us, yet even thence we ’scaped,My intrepidity and fertile thoughtOpening the way; and we shall recollect250These dangers also, in due time, with joy.Come, then—pursue my counsel. Ye your seatsStill occupying, smite the furrow’d floodWith well-timed strokes, that by the will of JoveWe may escape, perchance, this death, secure.To thee the pilot thus I speak, (my wordsMark thou, for at thy touch the rudder moves)This smoke, and these tumultuous waves avoid;Steer wide of both; yet with an eye intentOn yonder rock, lest unaware thou hold260Too near a course, and plunge us into harm.So I; with whose advice all, quick, complied.But Scylla I as yet named not, (that woeWithout a cure) lest, terrified, my crewShould all renounce their oars, and crowd below.Just then, forgetful of the strict commandOf Circe not to arm, I cloath’d me allIn radiant armour, grasp’d two quiv’ring spears,And to the deck ascended at the prow,Expecting earliest notice there, what time270The rock-bred Scylla should annoy my friends.But I discern’d her not, nor could, althoughTo weariness of sight the dusky rockI vigilant explored. Thus, many a groanHeaving, we navigated sad the streight,For here stood Scylla, while Charybdis thereWith hoarse throat deep absorb’d the briny flood.Oft as she vomited the deluge forth,Like water cauldron’d o’er a furious fireThe whirling Deep all murmur’d, and the spray280On both those rocky summits fell in show’rs.But when she suck’d the salt wave down again,Then, all the pool appear’d wheeling aboutWithin, the rock rebellow’d, and the seaDrawn off into that gulph disclosed to viewThe oozy bottom. Us pale horror seized.Thus, dreading death, with fast-set eyes we watch’dCharybdis; meantime, Scylla from the barkCaught six away, the bravest of my friends.With eyes, that moment, on my ship and crew290Retorted, I beheld the legs and armsOf those whom she uplifted in the air;On me they call’d, my name, the last, last timePronouncing then, in agony of heart.As when from some bold point among the rocksThe angler, with his taper rod in hand,Casts forth his bait to snare the smaller fry,He swings away remote his guarded line,56Then jerks his gasping prey forth from the Deep,So Scylla them raised gasping to the rock,300And at her cavern’s mouth devour’d them loud-Shrieking, and stretching forth to me their armsIn sign of hopeless mis’ry. Ne’er beheldThese eyes in all the seas that I have roam’d,A sight so piteous, nor in all my toils.From Scylla and Charybdis dire escaped,We reach’d the noble island of the SunEre long, where bright Hyperion’s beauteous herdsBroad-fronted grazed, and his well-batten’d flocks.I, in the bark and on the sea, the voice310Of oxen bellowing in hovels heard,And of loud-bleating sheep; then dropp’d the wordInto my memory of the sightless Seer,Theban Tiresias, and the caution strictOf Circe, my Ææan monitress,Who with such force had caution’d me to avoidThe island of the Sun, joy of mankind.Thus then to my companions, sad, I spake.Hear ye, my friends! although long time distress’d,The words prophetic of the Theban seer320And of Ææan Circe, whose adviceWas oft repeated to me to avoidThis island of the Sun, joy of mankind.There, said the Goddess, dread your heaviest woes,Pass the isle, therefore, scudding swift away.I ceased; they me with consternation heard,And harshly thus Eurylochus replied.Ulysses, ruthless Chief! no toils impairThy strength, of senseless iron thou art form’d,Who thy companions weary and o’erwatch’d330Forbidd’st to disembark on this fair isle,Where now, at last, we might with ease regale.Thou, rash, command’st us, leaving it afar,To roam all night the Ocean’s dreary waste;But winds to ships injurious spring by night,And how shall we escape a dreadful deathIf, chance, a sudden gust from South ariseOr stormy West, that dash in pieces oftThe vessel, even in the Gods’ despight?Prepare we rather now, as night enjoins,340Our evening fare beside the sable bark,In which at peep of day we may againLaunch forth secure into the boundless flood.He ceas’d, whom all applauded. Then I knewThat sorrow by the will of adverse heav’nApproach’d, and in wing’d accents thus replied.I suffer force, Eurylochus! and yieldO’er-ruled by numbers. Come, then, swear ye allA solemn oath, that should we find an herdOr num’rous flock, none here shall either sheep350Or bullock slay, by appetite profaneSeduced, but shall the viands eat contentWhich from immortal Circe we received.I spake; they readily a solemn oathSware all, and when their oath was fully sworn,Within a creek where a fresh fountain roseThey moor’d the bark, and, issuing, beganBrisk preparation of their evening cheer.But when nor hunger now nor thirst remain’dUnsated, recollecting, then, their friends360By Scylla seized and at her cave devour’d,They mourn’d, nor ceased to mourn them, till they slept.The night’s third portion come, when now the starsHad travers’d the mid-sky, cloud-gath’rer JoveCall’d forth a vehement wind with tempest charged,Menacing earth and sea with pitchy cloudsTremendous, and the night fell dark from heav’n.But when Aurora, daughter of the day,Look’d rosy forth, we haled, drawn inland more,Our bark into a grot, where nymphs were wont370Graceful to tread the dance, or to repose.Convening there my friends, I thus began.My friends! food fails us not, but bread is yetAnd wine on board. Abstain we from the herds,Lest harm ensue; for ye behold the flocksAnd herds of a most potent God, the Sun!Whose eye and watchful ear none may elude.So saying, I sway’d the gen’rous minds of all.A month complete the South wind ceaseless blew,Nor other wind blew next, save East and South,380Yet they, while neither food nor rosy wineFail’d them, the herds harm’d not, through fear to die.But, our provisions failing, they employedWhole days in search of food, snaring with hooksBirds, fishes, of what kind soe’er they might.By famine urged. I solitary roam’dMeantime the isle, seeking by pray’r to moveSome God to shew us a deliv’rance thence.When, roving thus the isle, I had at lengthLeft all my crew remote, laving my hands390Where shelter warm I found from the rude blast,I supplicated ev’ry Pow’r above;But they my pray’rs answer’d with slumbers softShed o’er my eyes, and with pernicious artEurylochus, the while, my friends harangued.My friends! afflicted as ye are, yet hearA fellow-suff’rer. Death, however caused,Abhorrence moves in miserable man,But death by famine is a fate of allMost to be fear’d. Come—let us hither drive400And sacrifice to the Immortal Pow’rsThe best of all the oxen of the Sun,Resolving thus—that soon as we shall reachOur native Ithaca, we will erectTo bright Hyperion an illustrious fane,Which with magnificent and num’rous giftsWe will enrich. But should he chuse to sinkOur vessel, for his stately beeves incensed,And should, with him, all heav’n conspire our death,I rather had with open mouth, at once,410Meeting the billows, perish, than by slowAnd pining waste here in this desert isle.So spake Eurylochus, whom all approved.Then, driving all the fattest of the herdFew paces only, (for the sacred beevesGrazed rarely distant from the bark) they stoodCompassing them around, and, grasping eachGreen foliage newly pluck’d from saplings tall,(For barley none in all our bark remain’d)Worshipp’d the Gods in pray’r. Pray’r made, they slewAnd flay’d them, and the thighs with double fat421Investing, spread them o’er with slices crude.No wine had they with which to consecrateThe blazing rites, but with libation poorOf water hallow’d the interior parts.Now, when the thighs were burnt, and each had sharedHis portion of the maw, and when the restAll-slash’d and scored hung roasting at the fire,Sleep, in that moment, suddenly my eyesForsaking, to the shore I bent my way.430But ere the station of our bark I reach’d,The sav’ry steam greeted me. At the scentI wept aloud, and to the Gods exclaim’d.Oh Jupiter, and all ye Pow’rs above!With cruel sleep and fatal ye have lull’dMy cares to rest, such horrible offenceMeantime my rash companions have devised.Then, flew long-stoled Lampetia to the SunAt once with tidings of his slaughter’d beeves,And he, incensed, the Immortals thus address’d.440Jove, and ye everlasting Pow’rs divine!Avenge me instant on the crew profaneOf Laertiades; Ulysses’ friendsHave dared to slay my beeves, which I with joyBeheld, both when I climb’d the starry heav’ns,And when to earth I sloped my “westring wheels,”But if they yield me not amercement dueAnd honourable for my loss, to HellI will descend and give the ghosts my beams.Then, thus the cloud-assembler God replied.450Sun! shine thou still on the Immortal Pow’rs,And on the teeming earth, frail man’s abode.My candent bolts can in a moment reachAnd split their flying bark in the mid-sea.These things Calypso told me, taught, herself,By herald Hermes, as she oft affirm’d.But when, descending to the shore, I reach’dAt length my bark, with aspect stern and toneI reprimanded them, yet no redressCould frame, or remedy—the beeves were dead.460Soon follow’d signs portentous sent from heav’n.The skins all crept, and on the spits the fleshBoth roast and raw bellow’d, as with the voiceOf living beeves. Thus my devoted friendsDriving the fattest oxen of the Sun,Feasted six days entire; but when the sev’nthBy mandate of Saturnian Jove appeared,The storm then ceased to rage, and we, againEmbarking, launch’d our galley, rear’d the mast,And gave our unfurl’d canvas to the wind.470The island left afar, and other landAppearing none, but sky alone and sea,Right o’er the hollow bark Saturnian JoveHung a cærulean cloud, dark’ning the Deep.Not long my vessel ran, for, blowing wild,Now came shrill Zephyrus; a stormy gustSnapp’d sheer the shrouds on both sides; backward fellThe mast, and with loose tackle strew’d the hold;Striking the pilot in the stern, it crush’dHis scull together; he a diver’s plunge480Made downward, and his noble spirit fled.Meantime, Jove thund’ring, hurl’d into the shipHis bolts; she, smitten by the fires of Jove,Quaked all her length; with sulphur fill’d she reek’d,And o’er her sides headlong my people plungedLike sea-mews, interdicted by that strokeOf wrath divine to hope their country more.But I, the vessel still paced to and fro,Till, fever’d by the boist’rous waves, her sidesForsook the keel now left to float alone.490Snapp’d where it join’d the keel the mast had fall’n,But fell encircled with a leathern brace,Which it retain’d; binding with this the mastAnd keel together, on them both I sat,Borne helpless onward by the dreadful gale.And now the West subsided, and the SouthArose instead, with mis’ry charged for me,That I might measure back my course againTo dire Charybdis. All night long I drove,And when the sun arose, at Scylla’s rock500Once more, and at Charybdis’ gulph arrived.It was the time when she absorb’d profoundThe briny flood, but by a wave upborneI seized the branches fast of the wild-fig.57To which, bat-like, I clung; yet where to fixMy foot secure found not, or where to ascend,For distant lay the roots, and distant shotThe largest arms erect into the air,O’ershadowing all Charybdis; therefore hardI clench’d the boughs, till she disgorg’d again510Both keel and mast. Not undesired by meThey came, though late; for at what hour the judge,After decision made of num’rous strifes58Between young candidates for honour, leavesThe forum for refreshment’ sake at home,Then was it that the mast and keel emerged.Deliver’d to a voluntary fall,Fast by those beams I dash’d into the flood,And seated on them both, with oary palmsImpell’d them; nor the Sire of Gods and men520Permitted Scylla to discern me more,Else had I perish’d by her fangs at last.Nine days I floated thence, and, on the tenthDark night, the Gods convey’d me to the isleOgygia, habitation of divineCalypso, by whose hospitable aidAnd assiduity, my strength revived.But wherefore this? ye have already learn’dThat hist’ry, thou and thy illustrious spouse;I told it yesterday, and hate a tale530Once amply told, then, needless, traced again.
And now, borne seaward from the river-streamOf the Oceanus, we plow’d againThe spacious Deep, and reach’d th’ Ææan isle,Where, daughter of the dawn, Aurora takesHer choral sports, and whence the sun ascends.We, there arriving, thrust our bark agroundOn the smooth beach, then landed, and on shoreReposed, expectant of the sacred dawn.But soon as day-spring’s daughter rosy-palm’dLook’d forth again, sending my friends before,10I bade them bring Elpenor’s body downFrom the abode of Circe to the beach.Then, on the utmost headland of the coastWe timber fell’d, and, sorrowing o’er the dead,His fun’ral rites water’d with tears profuse.The dead consumed, and with the dead his arms,We heap’d his tomb, and the sepulchral postErecting, fix’d his shapely oar aloft.Thus, punctual, we perform’d; nor our returnFrom Ades knew not Circe, but attired20In haste, ere long arrived, with whom appear’dHer female train with plenteous viands charged,And bright wine rosy-red. Amidst us allStanding, the beauteous Goddess thus began.Ah miserable! who have sought the shadesAlive! while others of the human raceDie only once, appointed twice to die!Come—take ye food; drink wine; and on the shoreAll day regale, for ye shall hence againAt day-spring o’er the Deep; but I will mark30Myself your future course, nor uninform’dLeave you in aught, lest, through some dire mistake,By sea or land new mis’ries ye incur.The Goddess spake, whose invitation kindWe glad accepted; thus we feasting satTill set of sun, and quaffing richest wine;But when the sun went down and darkness fell,My crew beside the hawsers slept, while meThe Goddess by the hand leading apart,First bade me sit, then, seated opposite,40Enquired, minute, of all that I had seen,And I, from first to last, recounted all.Then, thus the awful Goddess in return.Thus far thy toils are finish’d. Now attend!Mark well my words, of which the Gods will sureThemselves remind thee in the needful hour.First shalt thou reach the Sirens; they the heartsEnchant of all who on their coast arrive.The wretch, who unforewarn’d approaching, hearsThe Sirens’ voice, his wife and little-ones50Ne’er fly to gratulate his glad return,But him the Sirens sitting in the meadsCharm with mellifluous song, while all aroundThe bones accumulated lie of menNow putrid, and the skins mould’ring away.But, pass them thou, and, lest thy people hearThose warblings, ere thou yet approach, fill allTheir ears with wax moulded between thy palms;But as for thee—thou hear them if thou wilt.Yet let thy people bind thee to the mast60Erect, encompassing thy feet and armsWith cordage well-secured to the mast-foot,So shalt thou, raptur’d, hear the Sirens’ song.But if thou supplicate to be released,Or give such order, then, with added cordsLet thy companions bind thee still the more.When thus thy people shall have safely pass’dThe Sirens by, think not from me to learnWhat course thou next shalt steer; two will occur;Delib’rate chuse; I shall describe them both.70Here vaulted rocks impend, dash’d by the wavesImmense of Amphitrite azure-eyed;The blessed Gods those rocks, Erratic, call.Birds cannot pass them safe; no, not the dovesWhich his ambrosia bear to Father Jove,But even of those doves the slipp’ry rockProves fatal still to one, for which the GodSupplies another, lest the number fail.No ship, what ship soever there arrives,Escapes them, but both mariners and planks80Whelm’d under billows of the Deep, or, caughtBy fiery tempests, sudden disappear.Those rocks the billow-cleaving bark aloneThe Argo, further’d by the vows of all,Pass’d safely, sailing from Ææta’s isle;Nor she had pass’d, but surely dash’d had beenOn those huge rocks, but that, propitious stillTo Jason, Juno sped her safe along.These rocks are two; one lifts his summit sharpHigh as the spacious heav’ns, wrapt in dun clouds90Perpetual, which nor autumn sees dispers’dNor summer, for the sun shines never there;No mortal man might climb it or descend,Though twice ten hands and twice ten feet he own’d,For it is levigated as by art.Down scoop’d to Erebus, a cavern drearYawns in the centre of its western side;Pass it, renown’d Ulysses! but aloofSo far, that a keen arrow smartly sentForth from thy bark should fail to reach the cave.100There Scylla dwells, and thence her howl is heardTremendous; shrill her voice is as the noteOf hound new-whelp’d, but hideous her aspect,Such as no mortal man, nor ev’n a GodEncount’ring her, should with delight survey.Her feet are twelve, all fore-feet; six her necksOf hideous length, each clubb’d into a headTerrific, and each head with fangs is arm’dIn triple row, thick planted, stored with death.Plunged to her middle in the hollow den110She lurks, protruding from the black abyssHer heads, with which the rav’ning monster divesIn quest of dolphins, dog-fish, or of preyMore bulky, such as in the roaring gulphsOf Amphitrite without end abounds.It is no seaman’s boast that e’er he slipp’dHer cavern by, unharm’d. In ev’ry mouthShe bears upcaught a mariner away.The other rock, Ulysses, thou shalt findHumbler, a bow-shot only from the first;120On this a wild fig grows broad-leav’d, and hereCharybdis dire ingulphs the sable flood.Each day she thrice disgorges, and each dayThrice swallows it. Ah! well forewarn’d, bewareWhat time she swallows, that thou come not nigh,For not himself, Neptune, could snatch thee thence.Close passing Scylla’s rock, shoot swift thy barkBeyond it, since the loss of six aloneIs better far than shipwreck made of all.So Circe spake, to whom I thus replied.130Tell me, O Goddess, next, and tell me true!If, chance, from fell Charybdis I escape,May I not also save from Scylla’s forceMy people; should the monster threaten them?I said, and quick the Goddess in return.Unhappy! can exploits and toils of warStill please thee? yield’st not to the Gods themselves?She is no mortal, but a deathless pest,Impracticable, savage, battle-proof.Defence is vain; flight is thy sole resource.140For should’st thou linger putting on thy armsBeside the rock, beware, lest darting forthHer num’rous heads, she seize with ev’ry mouthA Greecian, and with others, even thee.Pass therefore swift, and passing, loud invokeCratais, mother of this plague of man,Who will forbid her to assail thee more.Thou, next, shalt reach Thrinacia; there, the beevesAnd fatted flocks graze num’rous of the Sun;Sev’n herds; as many flocks of snowy fleece;150Fifty in each; they breed not, neither die,Nor are they kept by less than Goddesses,Lampetia fair, and Phäethusa, bothBy nymph Neæra to Hyperion borne.Them, soon as she had train’d them to an ageProportion’d to that charge, their mother sentInto Thrinacia, there to dwell and keepInviolate their father’s flocks and herds.If, anxious for a safe return, thou spareThose herds and flocks, though after much endured,160Ye may at last your Ithaca regain;But should’st thou violate them, I foretellDestruction of thy ship and of thy crew,And though thyself escape, thou shalt returnLate, in ill plight, and all thy friends destroy’d.She ended, and the golden morning dawn’d.Then, all-divine, her graceful steps she turn’dBack through the isle, and, at the beach arrived,I summon’d all my followers to ascendThe bark again, and cast the hawsers loose.170They, at my voice, embarking, fill’d in ranksThe seats, and rowing, thresh’d the hoary flood.And now, melodious Circe, nymph divine,Sent after us a canvas-stretching breeze,Pleasant companion of our course, and we(The decks and benches clear’d) untoiling sat,While managed gales sped swift the bark along.Then, with dejected heart, thus I began.Oh friends! (for it is needful that not oneOr two alone the admonition hear180Of Circe, beauteous prophetess divine)To all I speak, that whether we escapeOr perish, all may be, at least, forewarn’d.She bids us, first, avoid the dang’rous songOf the sweet Sirens and their flow’ry meads.Me only she permits those strains to hear;But ye shall bind me with coercion strongOf cordage well-secured to the mast-foot,And by no struggles to be loos’d of mine.But should I supplicate to be released190Or give such order, then, with added cordsBe it your part to bind me still the more.Thus with distinct precaution I preparedMy people; rapid in her course, meantime,My gallant bark approach’d the Sirens’ isle,For brisk and favourable blew the wind.Then fell the wind suddenly, and sereneA breathless calm ensued, while all aroundThe billows slumber’d, lull’d by pow’r divine.Up-sprang my people, and the folded sails200Bestowing in the hold, sat to their oars,Which with their polish’d blades whiten’d the Deep.I, then, with edge of steel sev’ring minuteA waxen cake, chafed it and moulded itBetween my palms; ere long the ductile massGrew warm, obedient to that ceaseless force,And to Hyperion’s all-pervading beams.With that soft liniment I fill’d the earsOf my companions, man by man, and theyMy feet and arms with strong coercion bound210Of cordage to the mast-foot well secured.Then down they sat, and, rowing, thresh’d the brine.But when with rapid course we had arrivedWithin such distance as a voice may reach,Not unperceived by them the gliding barkApproach’d, and, thus, harmonious they began.Ulysses, Chief by ev’ry tongue extoll’d,Achaia’s boast, oh hither steer thy bark!Here stay thy course, and listen to our lay!These shores none passes in his sable ship220Till, first, the warblings of our voice he hear,Then, happier hence and wiser he departs.All that the Greeks endured, and all the illsInflicted by the Gods on Troy, we know,Know all that passes on the boundless earth.So they with voices sweet their music pouredMelodious on my ear, winning with easeMy heart’s desire to listen, and by signsI bade my people, instant, set me free.But they incumbent row’d, and from their seats230Eurylochus and Perimedes sprangWith added cords to bind me still the more.This danger past, and when the Sirens’ voice,Now left remote, had lost its pow’r to charm,Then, my companions freeing from the waxTheir ears, deliver’d me from my restraint.The island left afar, soon I discern’dHuge waves, and smoke, and horrid thund’rings heard.All sat aghast; forth flew at once the oarsFrom ev’ry hand, and with a clash the waves240Smote all together; check’d, the galley stood,By billow-sweeping oars no longer urged,And I, throughout the bark, man after manEncouraged all, addressing thus my crew.We meet not, now, my friends, our first distress.This evil is not greater than we foundWhen the huge Cyclops in his hollow denImprison’d us, yet even thence we ’scaped,My intrepidity and fertile thoughtOpening the way; and we shall recollect250These dangers also, in due time, with joy.Come, then—pursue my counsel. Ye your seatsStill occupying, smite the furrow’d floodWith well-timed strokes, that by the will of JoveWe may escape, perchance, this death, secure.To thee the pilot thus I speak, (my wordsMark thou, for at thy touch the rudder moves)This smoke, and these tumultuous waves avoid;Steer wide of both; yet with an eye intentOn yonder rock, lest unaware thou hold260Too near a course, and plunge us into harm.So I; with whose advice all, quick, complied.But Scylla I as yet named not, (that woeWithout a cure) lest, terrified, my crewShould all renounce their oars, and crowd below.Just then, forgetful of the strict commandOf Circe not to arm, I cloath’d me allIn radiant armour, grasp’d two quiv’ring spears,And to the deck ascended at the prow,Expecting earliest notice there, what time270The rock-bred Scylla should annoy my friends.But I discern’d her not, nor could, althoughTo weariness of sight the dusky rockI vigilant explored. Thus, many a groanHeaving, we navigated sad the streight,For here stood Scylla, while Charybdis thereWith hoarse throat deep absorb’d the briny flood.Oft as she vomited the deluge forth,Like water cauldron’d o’er a furious fireThe whirling Deep all murmur’d, and the spray280On both those rocky summits fell in show’rs.But when she suck’d the salt wave down again,Then, all the pool appear’d wheeling aboutWithin, the rock rebellow’d, and the seaDrawn off into that gulph disclosed to viewThe oozy bottom. Us pale horror seized.Thus, dreading death, with fast-set eyes we watch’dCharybdis; meantime, Scylla from the barkCaught six away, the bravest of my friends.With eyes, that moment, on my ship and crew290Retorted, I beheld the legs and armsOf those whom she uplifted in the air;On me they call’d, my name, the last, last timePronouncing then, in agony of heart.As when from some bold point among the rocksThe angler, with his taper rod in hand,Casts forth his bait to snare the smaller fry,He swings away remote his guarded line,56Then jerks his gasping prey forth from the Deep,So Scylla them raised gasping to the rock,300And at her cavern’s mouth devour’d them loud-Shrieking, and stretching forth to me their armsIn sign of hopeless mis’ry. Ne’er beheldThese eyes in all the seas that I have roam’d,A sight so piteous, nor in all my toils.From Scylla and Charybdis dire escaped,We reach’d the noble island of the SunEre long, where bright Hyperion’s beauteous herdsBroad-fronted grazed, and his well-batten’d flocks.I, in the bark and on the sea, the voice310Of oxen bellowing in hovels heard,And of loud-bleating sheep; then dropp’d the wordInto my memory of the sightless Seer,Theban Tiresias, and the caution strictOf Circe, my Ææan monitress,Who with such force had caution’d me to avoidThe island of the Sun, joy of mankind.Thus then to my companions, sad, I spake.Hear ye, my friends! although long time distress’d,The words prophetic of the Theban seer320And of Ææan Circe, whose adviceWas oft repeated to me to avoidThis island of the Sun, joy of mankind.There, said the Goddess, dread your heaviest woes,Pass the isle, therefore, scudding swift away.I ceased; they me with consternation heard,And harshly thus Eurylochus replied.Ulysses, ruthless Chief! no toils impairThy strength, of senseless iron thou art form’d,Who thy companions weary and o’erwatch’d330Forbidd’st to disembark on this fair isle,Where now, at last, we might with ease regale.Thou, rash, command’st us, leaving it afar,To roam all night the Ocean’s dreary waste;But winds to ships injurious spring by night,And how shall we escape a dreadful deathIf, chance, a sudden gust from South ariseOr stormy West, that dash in pieces oftThe vessel, even in the Gods’ despight?Prepare we rather now, as night enjoins,340Our evening fare beside the sable bark,In which at peep of day we may againLaunch forth secure into the boundless flood.He ceas’d, whom all applauded. Then I knewThat sorrow by the will of adverse heav’nApproach’d, and in wing’d accents thus replied.I suffer force, Eurylochus! and yieldO’er-ruled by numbers. Come, then, swear ye allA solemn oath, that should we find an herdOr num’rous flock, none here shall either sheep350Or bullock slay, by appetite profaneSeduced, but shall the viands eat contentWhich from immortal Circe we received.I spake; they readily a solemn oathSware all, and when their oath was fully sworn,Within a creek where a fresh fountain roseThey moor’d the bark, and, issuing, beganBrisk preparation of their evening cheer.But when nor hunger now nor thirst remain’dUnsated, recollecting, then, their friends360By Scylla seized and at her cave devour’d,They mourn’d, nor ceased to mourn them, till they slept.The night’s third portion come, when now the starsHad travers’d the mid-sky, cloud-gath’rer JoveCall’d forth a vehement wind with tempest charged,Menacing earth and sea with pitchy cloudsTremendous, and the night fell dark from heav’n.But when Aurora, daughter of the day,Look’d rosy forth, we haled, drawn inland more,Our bark into a grot, where nymphs were wont370Graceful to tread the dance, or to repose.Convening there my friends, I thus began.My friends! food fails us not, but bread is yetAnd wine on board. Abstain we from the herds,Lest harm ensue; for ye behold the flocksAnd herds of a most potent God, the Sun!Whose eye and watchful ear none may elude.So saying, I sway’d the gen’rous minds of all.A month complete the South wind ceaseless blew,Nor other wind blew next, save East and South,380Yet they, while neither food nor rosy wineFail’d them, the herds harm’d not, through fear to die.But, our provisions failing, they employedWhole days in search of food, snaring with hooksBirds, fishes, of what kind soe’er they might.By famine urged. I solitary roam’dMeantime the isle, seeking by pray’r to moveSome God to shew us a deliv’rance thence.When, roving thus the isle, I had at lengthLeft all my crew remote, laving my hands390Where shelter warm I found from the rude blast,I supplicated ev’ry Pow’r above;But they my pray’rs answer’d with slumbers softShed o’er my eyes, and with pernicious artEurylochus, the while, my friends harangued.My friends! afflicted as ye are, yet hearA fellow-suff’rer. Death, however caused,Abhorrence moves in miserable man,But death by famine is a fate of allMost to be fear’d. Come—let us hither drive400And sacrifice to the Immortal Pow’rsThe best of all the oxen of the Sun,Resolving thus—that soon as we shall reachOur native Ithaca, we will erectTo bright Hyperion an illustrious fane,Which with magnificent and num’rous giftsWe will enrich. But should he chuse to sinkOur vessel, for his stately beeves incensed,And should, with him, all heav’n conspire our death,I rather had with open mouth, at once,410Meeting the billows, perish, than by slowAnd pining waste here in this desert isle.So spake Eurylochus, whom all approved.Then, driving all the fattest of the herdFew paces only, (for the sacred beevesGrazed rarely distant from the bark) they stoodCompassing them around, and, grasping eachGreen foliage newly pluck’d from saplings tall,(For barley none in all our bark remain’d)Worshipp’d the Gods in pray’r. Pray’r made, they slewAnd flay’d them, and the thighs with double fat421Investing, spread them o’er with slices crude.No wine had they with which to consecrateThe blazing rites, but with libation poorOf water hallow’d the interior parts.Now, when the thighs were burnt, and each had sharedHis portion of the maw, and when the restAll-slash’d and scored hung roasting at the fire,Sleep, in that moment, suddenly my eyesForsaking, to the shore I bent my way.430But ere the station of our bark I reach’d,The sav’ry steam greeted me. At the scentI wept aloud, and to the Gods exclaim’d.Oh Jupiter, and all ye Pow’rs above!With cruel sleep and fatal ye have lull’dMy cares to rest, such horrible offenceMeantime my rash companions have devised.Then, flew long-stoled Lampetia to the SunAt once with tidings of his slaughter’d beeves,And he, incensed, the Immortals thus address’d.440Jove, and ye everlasting Pow’rs divine!Avenge me instant on the crew profaneOf Laertiades; Ulysses’ friendsHave dared to slay my beeves, which I with joyBeheld, both when I climb’d the starry heav’ns,And when to earth I sloped my “westring wheels,”But if they yield me not amercement dueAnd honourable for my loss, to HellI will descend and give the ghosts my beams.Then, thus the cloud-assembler God replied.450Sun! shine thou still on the Immortal Pow’rs,And on the teeming earth, frail man’s abode.My candent bolts can in a moment reachAnd split their flying bark in the mid-sea.These things Calypso told me, taught, herself,By herald Hermes, as she oft affirm’d.But when, descending to the shore, I reach’dAt length my bark, with aspect stern and toneI reprimanded them, yet no redressCould frame, or remedy—the beeves were dead.460Soon follow’d signs portentous sent from heav’n.The skins all crept, and on the spits the fleshBoth roast and raw bellow’d, as with the voiceOf living beeves. Thus my devoted friendsDriving the fattest oxen of the Sun,Feasted six days entire; but when the sev’nthBy mandate of Saturnian Jove appeared,The storm then ceased to rage, and we, againEmbarking, launch’d our galley, rear’d the mast,And gave our unfurl’d canvas to the wind.470The island left afar, and other landAppearing none, but sky alone and sea,Right o’er the hollow bark Saturnian JoveHung a cærulean cloud, dark’ning the Deep.Not long my vessel ran, for, blowing wild,Now came shrill Zephyrus; a stormy gustSnapp’d sheer the shrouds on both sides; backward fellThe mast, and with loose tackle strew’d the hold;Striking the pilot in the stern, it crush’dHis scull together; he a diver’s plunge480Made downward, and his noble spirit fled.Meantime, Jove thund’ring, hurl’d into the shipHis bolts; she, smitten by the fires of Jove,Quaked all her length; with sulphur fill’d she reek’d,And o’er her sides headlong my people plungedLike sea-mews, interdicted by that strokeOf wrath divine to hope their country more.But I, the vessel still paced to and fro,Till, fever’d by the boist’rous waves, her sidesForsook the keel now left to float alone.490Snapp’d where it join’d the keel the mast had fall’n,But fell encircled with a leathern brace,Which it retain’d; binding with this the mastAnd keel together, on them both I sat,Borne helpless onward by the dreadful gale.And now the West subsided, and the SouthArose instead, with mis’ry charged for me,That I might measure back my course againTo dire Charybdis. All night long I drove,And when the sun arose, at Scylla’s rock500Once more, and at Charybdis’ gulph arrived.It was the time when she absorb’d profoundThe briny flood, but by a wave upborneI seized the branches fast of the wild-fig.57To which, bat-like, I clung; yet where to fixMy foot secure found not, or where to ascend,For distant lay the roots, and distant shotThe largest arms erect into the air,O’ershadowing all Charybdis; therefore hardI clench’d the boughs, till she disgorg’d again510Both keel and mast. Not undesired by meThey came, though late; for at what hour the judge,After decision made of num’rous strifes58Between young candidates for honour, leavesThe forum for refreshment’ sake at home,Then was it that the mast and keel emerged.Deliver’d to a voluntary fall,Fast by those beams I dash’d into the flood,And seated on them both, with oary palmsImpell’d them; nor the Sire of Gods and men520Permitted Scylla to discern me more,Else had I perish’d by her fangs at last.Nine days I floated thence, and, on the tenthDark night, the Gods convey’d me to the isleOgygia, habitation of divineCalypso, by whose hospitable aidAnd assiduity, my strength revived.But wherefore this? ye have already learn’dThat hist’ry, thou and thy illustrious spouse;I told it yesterday, and hate a tale530Once amply told, then, needless, traced again.
56They passed the line through a pipe of horn, to secure it against the fishes’ bite.57Seeline 120.58He had therefore held by the fig-tree from sunrise till afternoon.
56They passed the line through a pipe of horn, to secure it against the fishes’ bite.
56They passed the line through a pipe of horn, to secure it against the fishes’ bite.
57Seeline 120.
57Seeline 120.
58He had therefore held by the fig-tree from sunrise till afternoon.
58He had therefore held by the fig-tree from sunrise till afternoon.