Odyssey

He said; and silence all their tongues contain'd,

ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ,

In admiration, when with pleasure chain'd

κηληθμῷ δʼ ἔσχοντο κατὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα.

Their ears had long been to him. At last brake

τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·

Alcinous silence, and in this sort spake

ὦ Ὀδυσεῦ, ἐπεὶ ἵκευ ἐμὸν ποτὶ χαλκοβατὲς δῶ,

To th' Ithacensian, Laertes' son:

ὑψερεφές, τῷ σʼ οὔ τι παλιμπλαγχθέντα γʼ ὀΐω

"O Ithacus! However over-run

ἂψ ἀπονοστήσειν, εἰ καὶ μάλα πολλὰ πέπονθας.

With former suff'rings in your way for home,

ὑμέων δʼ ἀνδρὶ ἑκάστῳ ἐφιέμενος τάδε εἴρω,

Since 'twas, at last, your happy fate to come

ὅσσοι ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γερούσιον αἴθοπα οἶνον

To my high-roof'd and brass-foundation'd house,

αἰεὶ πίνετʼ ἐμοῖσιν, ἀκουάζεσθε δʼ ἀοιδοῦ.

I hope, such speed and pass auspicious

εἵματα μὲν δὴ ξείνῳ ἐϋξέστῃ ἐνὶ χηλῷ

Our loves shall yield you, that you shall no more

κεῖται καὶ χρυσὸς πολυδαίδαλος ἄλλα τε πάντα

Wander, nor suffer, homewards, as before.

δῶρʼ, ὅσα Φαιήκων βουληφόροι ἐνθάδʼ ἔνεικαν·

You then, whoever that are ever grac'd

ἀλλʼ ἄγε οἱ δῶμεν τρίποδα μέγαν ἠδὲ λέβητα

With all choice of authoriz'd pow'r to taste

ἀνδρακάς· ἡμεῖς δʼ αὖτε ἀγειρόμενοι κατὰ δῆμον

Such wine with me as warms the sacred rage,

τισόμεθʼ· ἀργαλέον γὰρ ἕνα προικὸς χαρίσασθαι.

And is an honorary giv'n to age,

ὣς ἔφατʼ Ἀλκίνοος, τοῖσιν δʼ ἐπιὴνδανε μῦθος.

With which ye likewise hear divinely sing,

οἱ μὲν κακκείοντες ἔβαν οἶκόνδε ἕκαστος,

In honour's praise, the poet of the king,

ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,

I move, by way of my command, to this:

νῆάδʼ ἐπεσσεύοντο, φέρον δʼ εὐήνορα χαλκόν.

That where in an elaborate chest there lies

καὶ τὰ μὲν εὖ κατέθηχʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,

A present for our guest, attires of price,

αὐτὸς ἰὼν διὰ νηὸς ὑπὸ ζυγά, μή τινʼ ἑταίρων

And gold engrav'n with infinite device,

βλάπτοι ἐλαυνόντων, ὁπότε σπερχοίατʼ ἐρετμοῖς.

I wish that each of us should add beside

οἱ δʼ εἰς Ἀλκινόοιο κίον καὶ δαῖτʼ ἀλέγυνον.

A tripod, and a caldron, amplified

τοῖσι δὲ βοῦν ἱέρευσʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο

With size, and metal of most rate, and great;

Ζηνὶ κελαινεφέϊ Κρονίδῃ, ὃς πᾶσιν ἀνάσσει.

For we, in council of taxation met,

μῆρα δὲ κήαντες δαίνυντʼ ἐρικυδέα δαῖτα

Will from our subjects gain their worth again;

τερπόμενοι· μετὰ δέ σφιν ἐμέλπετο θεῖος ἀοιδός,

Since 'tis unequal one man should sustain

Δημόδοκος, λαοῖσι τετιμένος. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς

A charge so weighty, being the grace of all,

πολλὰ πρὸς ἠέλιον κεφαλὴν τρέπε παμφανόωντα,

Which borne by many is a weight but small."

δῦναι ἐπειγόμενος· δὴ γὰρ μενέαινε νέεσθαι.

Thus spake Alcinous, and pleas'd the rest;

ὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἀνὴρ δόρποιο λιλαίεται, ᾧ τε πανῆμαρ

When each man clos'd with home and sleep his feast.

νειὸν ἀνʼ ἕλκητον βόε οἴνοπε πηκτὸν ἄροτρον·

But when the colour-giving light arose,

ἀσπασίως δʼ ἄρα τῷ κατέδυ φάος ἠελίοιο

All to the ship did all their speeds dispose,

δόρπον ἐποίχεσθαι, βλάβεται δέ τε γούνατʼ ἰόντι·

And wealth, that honest men makes, brought with them.

ὣς Ὀδυσῆʼ ἀσπαστὸν ἔδυ φάος ἠελίοιο.

All which ev'n he that wore the diadem

αἶψα δὲ Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισι μετηύδα,

Stow'd in the ship himself, beneath the seats

Ἀλκινόῳ δὲ μάλιστα πιφαυσκόμενος φάτο μῦθον·

The rowers sat in, stooping, lest their lets

Ἀλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,

In any of their labours he might prove.

πέμπετέ με σπείσαντες ἀπήμονα, χαίρετε δʼ αὐτοί·

Then home he turn'd, and after him did move

ἤδη γὰρ τετέλεσται ἅ μοι φίλος ἤθελε θυμός,

The whole assembly to expected feast.

πομπὴ καὶ φίλα δῶρα, τά μοι θεοὶ Οὐρανίωνες

Among whom he a sacrifice addrest,

ὄλβια ποιήσειαν· ἀμύμονα δʼ οἴκοι ἄκοιτιν

And slew an ox, to weather-wielding Jove,

νοστήσας εὕροιμι σὺν ἀρτεμέεσσι φίλοισιν.

Beneath whose empire all things are, and move.

ὑμεῖς δʼ αὖθι μένοντες ἐϋφραίνοιτε γυναῖκας

The thighs then roasting, they made glorious cheer

κουριδίας καὶ τέκνα· θεοὶ δʼ ἀρετὴν ὀπάσειαν

Delighted highly; and amongst them there

παντοίην, καὶ μή τι κακὸν μεταδήμιον εἴη.

The honour'd-of-the-people us'd his voice,

ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον ἠδʼ ἐκέλευον

Divine Demodocus. Yet, through this choice

πεμπέμεναι τὸν ξεῖνον, ἐπεὶ κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπεν.

Of cheer and music, had Ulysses still

καὶ τότε κήρυκα προσέφη μένος Ἀλκινόοιο·

An eye directed to the Eastern hill,

Ποντόνοε, κρητῆρα κερασσάμενος μέθυ νεῖμον

To see Him rising that illustrates all;

πᾶσιν ἀνὰ μέγαρον, ὄφρʼ εὐξάμενοι Διὶ πατρὶ

For now into his mind a fire did fall

τὸν ξεῖνον πέμπωμεν ἑὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.

Of thirst for home. And as in hungry vow

ὣς φάτο, Ποντόνοος δὲ μελίφρονα οἶνον ἐκίρνα,

To needful food a man at fixéd plow

νώμησεν δʼ ἄρα πᾶσιν ἐπισταδόν· οἱ δὲ θεοῖσιν

(To whom the black ox all day long hath turn'd

ἔσπεισαν μακάρεσσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,

The stubborn fallows up, his stomach burn'd

With empty heat and appetite to food,

His knees afflicted with his spirit-spent blood)

At length the long-expected sunset sees,

That he may sit to food, and rest his knees;

So to Ulysses set the friendly light

The sun afforded, with as wish'd a sight.

Who straight bespake that oar-affecting State,

But did in chief his speech appropriate

To him by name, that with their rule was crown'd.

"Alcinous, of all men most renown'd,

Dismiss me with as safe pass as you vow

(Your off'ring past) and may the Gods to you

In all contentment use as full a hand;

For now my landing here and stay shall stand

In all perfection with my heart's desire,

Both my so safe deduction to aspire,

And loving gifts; which may the Gods to me

As blest in use make as your acts are free,

Ev'n to the finding firm in love, and life,

With all desir'd event, my friends, and wife.

When, as myself shall live delighted there,

May you with your wives rest as happy here,

Your sons and daughters, in particular state,

With ev'ry virtue render'd consummate;

And, in your gen'ral empire, may ill never

αὐτόθεν ἐξ ἑδρέων. ἀνὰ δʼ ἵστατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,

Approach your land, but good your good quit ever."

Ἀρήτῃ δʼ ἐν χειρὶ τίθει δέπας ἀμφικύπελλον,

This all applauded, and all jointly cried:

καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

"Dismiss the stranger! He hath dignified

χαῖρέ μοι, ὦ βασίλεια, διαμπερές, εἰς ὅ κε γῆρας

With fit speech his dismission." Then the king

ἔλθῃ καὶ θάνατος, τά τʼ ἐπʼ ἀνθρώποισι πέλονται.

Thus charg'd the herald: "Fill for offering

αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ νέομαι· σὺ δὲ τέρπεο τῷδʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ

A bowl of wine; which through the whole large house

παισί τε καὶ λαοῖσι καὶ Ἀλκινόῳ βασιλῆϊ.

Dispose to all men, that, propitious

ὣς εἰπὼν ὑπὲρ οὐδὸν ἐβήσετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,

Our father Jove made with our pray'rs, we may

τῷ δʼ ἅμα κήρυκα προΐει μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,

Give home our guest in full and wishéd way."

ἡγεῖσθαι ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης·

This said, Pontonous commix'd a bowl

Ἀρήτη δʼ ἄρα οἱ δμῳὰς ἅμʼ ἔπεμπε γυναῖκας,

Of such sweet wine as did delight the soul.

τὴν μὲν φᾶρος ἔχουσαν ἐϋπλυνὲς ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,

Which making sacred to the blessed Gods,

τὴν δʼ ἑτέρην χηλὸν πυκινὴν ἅμʼ ὄπασσε κομίζειν·

That hold in broad heav'n their supreme abodes,

ἡ δʼ ἄλλη σῖτόν τʼ ἔφερεν καὶ οἶνον ἐρυθρόν.

God-like Ulysses from his chair arose,

αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,

And in the hands of th' empress did impose

αἶψα τά γʼ ἐν νηῒ γλαφυρῇ πομπῆες ἀγαυοὶ

The all-round cup; to whom, fair spoke, he said:

δεξάμενοι κατέθεντο, πόσιν καὶ βρῶσιν ἅπασαν·

"Rejoice, O queen, and be your joys repaid

κὰδ δʼ ἄρʼ Ὀδυσσῆϊ στόρεσαν ῥῆγός τε λίνον τε

By heav'n, for me, till age and death succeed;

νηὸς ἐπʼ ἰκριόφιν γλαφυρῆς, ἵνα νήγρετον εὕδοι,

Both which inflict their most unwelcome need

πρυμνῆς· ἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐβήσετο καὶ κατέλεκτο

On men and dames alike. And, first, for me,

σιγῇ· τοὶ δὲ καθῖζον ἐπὶ κληῗσιν ἕκαστοι

I must from hence, to both: Live you here free,

κόσμῳ, πεῖσμα δʼ ἔλυσαν ἀπὸ τρητοῖο λίθοιο.

And ever may all living blessings spring,

εὖθʼ οἱ ἀνακλινθέντες ἀνερρίπτουν ἅλα πηδῷ,

Your joy in children, subjects, and your king."

καὶ τῷ νήδυμος ὕπνος ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔπιπτε,

This said, divine Ulysses took his way;

νήγρετος, ἥδιστος, θανάτῳ ἄγχιστα ἐοικώς.

Before whom the unalterable sway

ἡ δʼ, ὥς τʼ ἐν πεδίῳ τετράοροι ἄρσενες ἵπποι,

Of king Alcinous' virtue did command

πάντες ἅμʼ ὁρμηθέντες ὑπὸ πληγῇσιν ἱμάσθλης,

A herald's fit attendance to the strand,

ὑψόσʼ ἀειρόμενοι ῥίμφα πρήσσουσι κέλευθον,

And ship appointed. With him likewise went

ὣς ἄρα τῆς πρύμνη μὲν ἀείρετο, κῦμα δʼ ὄπισθε

Handmaids, by Arete's injunction sent.

πορφύρεον μέγα θῦε πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης.

One bore an out and in-weed, fair and sweet,

ἡ δὲ μάλʼ ἀσφαλέως θέεν ἔμπεδον· οὐδέ κεν ἴρηξ

The other an embroider'd cabinet,

κίρκος ὁμαρτήσειεν, ἐλαφρότατος πετεηνῶν.

The third had bread to bear, and ruddy wine;

ὣς ἡ ῥίμφα θέουσα θαλάσσης κύματʼ ἔταμνεν,

All which, at sea and ship arriv'd, resign

ἄνδρα φέρουσα θεοῖς ἐναλίγκια μήδεʼ ἔχοντα·

Their freight conferr'd. With fair attendants then,

ὃς πρὶν μὲν μάλα πολλὰ πάθʼ ἄλγεα ὃν κατὰ θυμὸν

The sheets and bedding of the man of men,

ἀνδρῶν τε πτολέμους ἀλεγεινά τε κύματα πείρων,

Within a cabin of the hollow keel,

δὴ τότε γʼ ἀτρέμας εὗδε, λελασμένος ὅσσʼ ἐπεπόνθει.

Spread, and made soft, that sleep might sweetly seel

εὖτʼ ἀστὴρ ὑπερέσχε φαάντατος, ὅς τε μάλιστα

His restful eyes, he enter'd, and his bed

ἔρχεται ἀγγέλλων φάος Ἠοῦς ἠριγενείης,

In silence took. The rowers orderéd

τῆμος δὴ νήσῳ προσεπίλνατο ποντοπόρος νηῦς.

Themselves in sev'ral seats, and then set gone

Φόρκυνος δέ τίς ἐστι λιμήν, ἁλίοιο γέροντος,

The ship, the gable from the hollow stone

ἐν δήμῳ Ἰθάκης· δύο δὲ προβλῆτες ἐν αὐτῷ

Dissolv'd and weigh'd-up, all, together, close

ἀκταὶ ἀπορρῶγες, λιμένος ποτιπεπτηυῖαι,

Then beat the sea. His lids in sweet repose

αἵ τʼ ἀνέμων σκεπόωσι δυσαήων μέγα κῦμα

Sleep bound so fast, it scarce gave way to breath

ἔκτοθεν· ἔντοσθεν δέ τʼ ἄνευ δεσμοῖο μένουσι

Inexcitable, most dear, next of all to death.

νῆες ἐΰσσελμοι, ὅτʼ ἂν ὅρμου μέτρον ἵκωνται.

And as amids a fair field four brave horse

αὐτὰρ ἐπὶ κρατὸς λιμένος τανύφυλλος ἐλαίη,

Before a chariot stung into their course

ἀγχόθι δʼ αὐτῆς ἄντρον ἐπήρατον ἠεροειδές,

With fervent lashes of the smarting scourge,

ἱρὸν νυμφάων αἱ νηϊάδες καλέονται.

That all their fire blows high, and makes them urge

ἐν δὲ κρητῆρές τε καὶ ἀμφιφορῆες ἔασιν

To utmost speed the measure of their ground;

λάϊνοι· ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειτα τιθαιβώσσουσι μέλισσαι.

So bore the ship aloft her fiery bound;

ἐν δʼ ἱστοὶ λίθεοι περιμήκεες, ἔνθα τε νύμφαι

About whom rush'd the billows black and vast,

φάρεʼ ὑφαίνουσιν ἁλιπόρφυρα, θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι·

In which the sea-roars burst. As firm as fast

ἐν δʼ ὕδατʼ ἀενάοντα. δύω δέ τέ οἱ θύραι εἰσίν,

She ply'd her course yet; nor her wingéd speed

αἱ μὲν πρὸς Βορέαο καταιβαταὶ ἀνθρώποισιν,

The falcon-gentle could for pace exceed;

So cut she through the waves, and bore a man

Even with the Gods in counsels, that began

And spent his former life in all misease,

Battles of men, and rude waves of the seas,

Yet now securely slept, forgetting all.

And when heav'n's brightest star, that first doth call

The early morning out, advanc'd her head,

Then near to Ithaca the billow-bred

Phræcian ship approach'd. There is a port,

That th' aged sea-God Phorcys makes his fort,

Whose earth the Ithacensian people own,

In which two rocks inaccessible are grown

Far forth into the sea, whose each strength binds

The boist'rous waves in from the high-flown winds

On both the out-parts so, that all within

The well-built ships, that once their harbour win

In his calm bosom, without anchor rest,

Safe, and unstirr'd. From forth the haven's high crest

Branch the well-brawn'd arms of an olive-tree;

Beneath which runs a cave from all sun free,

Cool, and delightsome, sacred to th' access

Of Nymphs whose surnames are the Naiadés;

In which flew humming bees, in which lay thrown

Stone cups, stone vessels, shittles all of stone,

With which the Nymphs their purple mantles wove,

In whose contexture art and wonder strove;

αἱ δʼ αὖ πρὸς Νότου εἰσὶ θεώτεραι· οὐδέ τι κείνῃ

In which pure springs perpetually ran;

ἄνδρες ἐσέρχονται, ἀλλʼ ἀθανάτων ὁδός ἐστιν.

To which two entries were; the one for man,

ἔνθʼ οἵ γʼ εἰσέλασαν, πρὶν εἰδότες· ἡ μὲν ἔπειτα

On which the North breath'd; th' other for the Gods,

ἠπείρῳ ἐπέκελσεν, ὅσον τʼ ἐπὶ ἥμισυ πάσης,

On which the South; and that bore no abodes

σπερχομένη· τοῖον γὰρ ἐπείγετο χέρσʼ ἐρετάων·

For earthy men, but only deathless feet

οἱ δʼ ἐκ νηὸς βάντες ἐϋζύγου ἤπειρόνδε

Had there free way. This port these men thought meet

πρῶτον Ὀδυσσῆα γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἄειραν

To land Ulysses, being the first they knew,

αὐτῷ σύν τε λίνῳ καὶ ῥήγεϊ σιγαλόεντι,

Drew then their ship in, but no further drew

κὰδ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπὶ ψαμάθῳ ἔθεσαν δεδμημένον ὕπνῳ,

Than half her bulk reach'd, by such cunning hand

ἐκ δὲ κτήματʼ ἄειραν, ἅ οἱ Φαίηκες ἀγαυοὶ

Her course was manag'd. Then her men took land,

ὤπασαν οἴκαδʼ ἰόντι διὰ μεγάθυμον Ἀθήνην.

And first brought forth Ulysses, bed, and all

καὶ τὰ μὲν οὖν παρὰ πυθμένʼ ἐλαίης ἀθρόα θῆκαν

That richly furnish'd it, he still in thrall

ἐκτὸς ὁδοῦ, μή πώς τις ὁδιτάων ἀνθρώπων,

Of all-subduing sleep. Upon the sand

πρίν γʼ Ὀδυσῆʼ ἔγρεσθαι, ἐπελθὼν δηλήσαιτο·

They set him softly down; and then the strand

αὐτοὶ δʼ αὖτʼ οἶκόνδε πάλιν κίον. οὐδʼ ἐνοσίχθων

They strew'd with all the goods he had, bestow'd

λήθετʼ ἀπειλάων, τὰς ἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆϊ

By the renown'd Phæacians, since he show'd

πρῶτον ἐπηπείλησε, Διὸς δʼ ἐξείρετο βουλήν·

So much Minerva. At the olive root

Ζεῦ πάτερ, οὐκέτʼ ἐγώ γε μετʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι

They drew them then in heap, most far from foot

τιμήεις ἔσομαι, ὅτε με βροτοὶ οὔ τι τίουσιν,

Of any traveller, lest, ere his eyes

Φαίηκες, τοί πέρ τοι ἐμῆς ἔξ εἰσι γενέθλης.

Resum'd their charge, they might be others' prise.

καὶ γὰρ νῦν Ὀδυσῆʼ ἐφάμην κακὰ πολλὰ παθόντα

These then turn'd home; nor was the sea's Supreme

οἴκαδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι· νόστον δέ οἱ οὔ ποτʼ ἀπηύρων

Forgetful of his threats, for Polypheme

πάγχυ, ἐπεὶ σὺ πρῶτον ὑπέσχεο καὶ κατένευσας.

Bent at divine Ulysses, yet would prove

οἱ δʼ εὕδοντʼ ἐν νηῒ θοῇ ἐπὶ πόντον ἄγοντες

(Ere their performance) the decree of Jove.

κάτθεσαν εἰν Ἰθάκῃ, ἔδοσαν δέ οἱ ἄσπετα δῶρα,

"Father! no more the Gods shall honour me,

χαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε ἅλις ἐσθῆτά θʼ ὑφαντήν,

Since men despise me, and those men that see

πόλλʼ, ὅσʼ ἂν οὐδέ ποτε Τροίης ἐξήρατʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,

The light in lineage of mine own lov'd race.

εἴ περ ἀπήμων ἦλθε, λαχὼν ἀπὸ ληΐδος αἶσαν.

I vow'd Ulysses should, before the grace

τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεὺς·

Of his return, encounter woes enow

ὢ πόποι, ἐννοσίγαιʼ εὐρυσθενές, οἷον ἔειπες.

To make that purchase dear; yet did not vow

οὔ τί σʼ ἀτιμάζουσι θεοί· χαλεπὸν δέ κεν εἴη

Simply against it, since thy brow had bent

πρεσβύτατον καὶ ἄριστον ἀτιμίῃσιν ἰάλλειν.

To his reduction, in the fore-consent

ἀνδρῶν δʼ εἴ πέρ τίς σε βίῃ καὶ κάρτεϊ εἴκων

Thou hadst vouchsaf'd it; yet, before my mind

οὔ τι τίει. σοὶ δʼ ἐστὶ καὶ ἐξοπίσω τίσις αἰεί.

Hath full pow'r on him, the Phæacians find

ἔρξον ὅπως ἐθέλεις καί τοι φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ.

Their own minds' satisfaction with his pass,

τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων·

So far from suff'ring what my pleasure was,

αἶψά κʼ ἐγὼν ἔρξαιμι, κελαινεφές, ὡς ἀγορεύεις·

That ease and softness now is habited

ἀλλὰ σὸν αἰεὶ θυμὸν ὀπίζομαι ἠδʼ ἀλεείνω.

In his secure breast, and his careless head

νῦν αὖ Φαιήκων ἐθέλω περικαλλέα νῆα,

Return'd in peace of sleep to Ithaca,

ἐκ πομπῆς ἀνιοῦσαν, ἐν ἠεροειδέϊ πόντῳ

The brass and gold of rich Phæacia

ῥαῖσαι, ἵνʼ ἤδη σχῶνται, ἀπολλήξωσι δὲ πομπῆς

Rocking his temples, garments richly wov'n,

ἀνθρώπων, μέγα δέ σφιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψαι.

And worlds of prise, more than was ever strov'n

τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·

From all the conflicts he sustain'd at Troy,

ὢ πέπον, ὡς μὲν ἐμῷ θυμῷ δοκεῖ εἶναι ἄριστα,

If safe he should his full share there enjoy."

ὁππότε κεν δὴ πάντες ἐλαυνομένην προΐδωνται

The Show'r-dissolver answer'd: "What a speech

λαοὶ ἀπὸ πτόλιος, θεῖναι λίθον ἐγγύθι γαίης

Hath pass'd thy palate, O thou great in reach

νηῒ θοῇ ἴκελον, ἵνα θαυμάζωσιν ἅπαντες

Of wrackful empire! Far the Gods remain

ἄνθρωποι, μέγα δέ σφιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψαι.

From scorn of thee, for 'twere a work of pain

αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γʼ ἄκουσε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων,

To prosecute with ignominies one

βῆ ῥʼ ἴμεν ἐς Σχερίην, ὅθι Φαίηκες γεγάασιν.

That sways our ablest and most ancient throne.

ἔνθʼ ἔμενʼ· ἡ δὲ μάλα σχεδὸν ἤλυθε ποντοπόρος νηῦς

For men, if any so beneath in pow'r

ῥίμφα διωκομένη· τῆς δὲ σχεδὸν ἦλθʼ ἐνοσίχθων,

Neglect thy high will, now, or any hour

ὅς μιν λᾶαν ἔθηκε καὶ ἐρρίζωσεν ἔνερθε

That moves hereafter, take revenge to thee,

χειρὶ καταπρηνεῖ ἐλάσας· ὁ δὲ νόσφι βεβήκει.

Soothe all thy will, and be thy pleasure free."

οἱ δὲ πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἔπεα πτερόεντʼ ἀγόρευον

"Why then," said he, "thou blacker of the fumes

That dim the sun, my licens'd pow'r resumes

Act from thy speech; but I observe so much

And fear thy pleasure, that, I dare not touch

At any inclination of mine own,

Till thy consenting influence be known.

But now this curious-built Phæacian ship,

Returning from her convoy, I will strip

Of all her fleeting matter, and to stone

Transform and fix it, just when she hath gone

Her full time home, and jets before their prease

In all her trim, amids the sable seas,

That they may cease to convoy strangers still,

When they shall see so like a mighty hill

Their glory stick before their city's grace,

And my hands cast a mask before her face."

"O friend," said Jove, "it shows to me the best

Of all earth's objects, that their whole prease, drest

In all their wonder, near their town shall stand,

And stare upon a stone, so near the land,

So like a ship, and dam up all their lights,

As if a mountain interpos'd their sights."

When Neptune heard this, he for Scheria went,

Whence the Phæacians took their first descent.

Which when he reach'd, and, in her swiftest pride,

The water-treader by the city's side

Φαίηκες δολιχήρετμοι, ναυσίκλυτοι ἄνδρες.

Came cutting close, close he came swiftly on,

ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·

Took her in violent hand, and to a stone

ὤ μοι, τίς δὴ νῆα θοὴν ἐπέδησʼ ἐνὶ πόντῳ

Turn'd all her sylvan substance; all below

οἴκαδʼ ἐλαυνομένην; καὶ δὴ προὐφαίνετο πᾶσα.

Firm'd her with roots, and left her. This strange show

ὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε· τὰ δʼ οὐκ ἴσαν ὡς ἐτέτυκτο.

When the Phæacians saw, they stupid stood,

τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀλκίνοος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·

And ask'd each other, who amids the flood

ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δή με παλαίφατα θέσφαθʼ ἱκάνει

Could fix their ship so in her full speed home,

πατρὸς ἐμοῦ, ὃς ἔφασκε Ποσειδάωνʼ ἀγάσασθαι

And quite transparent make her bulk become?

ἡμῖν, οὕνεκα πομποὶ ἀπήμονές εἰμεν ἁπάντων.

Thus talk'd they; but were far from knowing how

φῆ ποτὲ Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν περικαλλέα, νῆα,

These things had issue. Which their king did show,

ἐκ πομπῆς ἀνιοῦσαν, ἐν ἠεροειδέϊ πόντῳ

And said: "O friends, the ancient prophecies

ῥαισέμεναι, μέγα δʼ ἧμιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψειν.

My father told to me, to all our eyes

ὣς ἀγόρευʼ ὁ γέρων· τὰ δὲ δὴ νῦν πάντα τελεῖται.

Are now in proof. He said, the time would come,

ἀλλʼ ἄγεθʼ, ὡς ἂν ἐγὼ εἴπω, πειθώμεθα πάντες·

When Neptune, for our safe conducting home

πομπῆς μὲν παύσασθε βροτῶν, ὅτε κέν τις ἵκηται

All sorts of strangers, out of envy fir'd,

ἡμέτερον προτὶ ἄστυ· Ποσειδάωνι δὲ ταύρους

Would meet our fairest ship as she retir'd,

δώδεκα κεκριμένους ἱερεύσομεν, αἴ κʼ ἐλεήσῃ,

And all the goodly shape and speed we boast

μηδʼ ἡμῖν περίμηκες ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψῃ.

Should like a mountain stand before us lost

ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἔδεισαν, ἑτοιμάσσαντο δὲ ταύρους.

Amids the moving waters; which we see

ὣς οἱ μέν ῥʼ εὔχοντο Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι

Perform'd in full end to our prophecy.

δήμου Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,

Hear then my counsel, and obey me then:

ἑσταότες περὶ βωμόν. ὁ δʼ ἔγρετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς

Renounce henceforth our convoy home of men,

εὕδων ἐν γαίῃ πατρωΐῃ, οὐδέ μιν ἔγνω,

Whoever shall hereafter greet our town;

ἤδη δὴν ἀπεών· περὶ γὰρ θεὸς ἠέρα χεῦε

And to th' offended Deity's renown

Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διός, ὄφρα μιν αὐτὸν

Twelve chosen oxen let us sacred make,

ἄγνωστον τεύξειεν ἕκαστά τε μυθήσαιτο,

That he may pity us, and from us take

μή μιν πρὶν ἄλοχος γνοίη ἀστοί τε φίλοι τε,

This shady mountain." They, in fear, obey'd,

πρὶν πᾶσαν μνηστῆρας ὑπερβασίην ἀποτῖσαι.

Slew all the beeves, and to the Godhead pray'd,

τοὔνεκʼ ἄρʼ ἀλλοειδέα φαινέσκετο πάντα ἄνακτι,

The dukes and princes all ensphering round

ἀτραπιτοί τε διηνεκέες λιμένες τε πάνορμοι

The sacred altar; while whose tops were crown'd,

πέτραι τʼ ἠλίβατοι καὶ δένδρεα τηλεθόωντα.

Divine Ulysses, on his country's breast

στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ἀναΐξας καί ῥʼ εἴσιδε πατρίδα γαῖαν·

Laid bound in sleep, now rose out of his rest,

ᾤμωξέν τʼ ἄρ ἔπειτα καὶ ὣ πεπλήγετο μηρὼ

Nor (being so long remov'd) the region knew.

χερσὶ καταπρηνέσσʼ, ὀλοφυρόμενος δʼ ἔπος ηὔδα·

Besides which absence yet, Minerva threw

ὤ μοι ἐγώ, τέων αὖτε βροτῶν ἐς γαῖαν ἱκάνω;

A cloud about him, to make strange the more

ἦ ῥʼ οἵ γʼ ὑβρισταί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,

His safe arrival, lest upon his shore

ἦε φιλόξεινοι, καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής;

He should make known his face, and utter all

πῇ δὴ χρήματα πολλὰ φέρω τάδε; πῇ τε καὶ αὐτὸς

That might prevent th' event that was to fall.

πλάζομαι; αἴθʼ ὄφελον μεῖναι παρὰ Φαιήκεσσιν

Which she prepar'd so well, that not his wife,

αὐτοῦ· ἐγὼ δέ κεν ἄλλον ὑπερμενέων βασιλήων

Presented to him, should perceive his life,

ἐξικόμην, ὅς κέν μʼ ἐφίλει καὶ ἔπεμπε νέεσθαι.

No citizen, no friend, till righteous fate

νῦν δʼ οὔτʼ ἄρ πῃ θέσθαι ἐπίσταμαι, οὐδὲ μὲν αὐτοῦ

Upon the Wooer's wrongs were consummate.

καλλείψω, μή πώς μοι ἕλωρ ἄλλοισι γένηται.

Through which cloud all things show'd now to the king

ὢ πόποι, οὐκ ἄρα πάντα νοήμονες οὐδὲ δίκαιοι

Of foreign fashion; the enflow'réd spring

ἦσαν Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,

Amongst the trees there, the perpetual waves,

οἵ μʼ εἰς ἄλλην γαῖαν ἀπήγαγον, ἦ τέ μʼ ἔφαντο

The rocks, that did more high their foreheads raise

ἄξειν εἰς Ἰθάκην εὐδείελον, οὐδʼ ἐτέλεσσαν.

To his wrapt eye than naturally they did,

Ζεὺς σφέας τίσαιτο ἱκετήσιος, ὅς τε καὶ ἄλλους

And all the haven, in which a man seem'd hid

ἀνθρώπους ἐφορᾷ καὶ τίνυται ὅς τις ἁμάρτῃ.

From wind and weather, when storms loudest chid.

ἀλλʼ ἄγε δὴ τὰ χρήματʼ ἀριθμήσω καὶ ἴδωμαι,

He therefore, being risen, stood and view'd

μή τί μοι οἴχωνται κοίλης ἐπὶ νηὸς ἄγοντες.

His country-earth; which, not perceiv'd, he rued,

ὣς εἰπὼν τρίποδας περικαλλέας ἠδὲ λέβητας

And, striking with his hurl'd-down hands his thighs,

ἠρίθμει καὶ χρυσὸν ὑφαντά τε εἵματα καλά.

He mourn'd, and said: "O me! Again where lies

τῶν μὲν ἄρʼ ὀύ τι πόθει· ὁ δʼ ὀδύρετο πατρίδα γαῖαν

My desert way? To wrongful men and rude,

ἑρπύζων παρὰ θῖνα πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης,

And with no laws of human right endued?

Or are they human, and of holy minds?

What fits my deed with these so many kinds

Of goods late giv'n? What with myself will floods

And errors do? I would to God, these goods

Had rested with their owners, and that I

Had fall'n on kings of more regality,

To grace out my return, that lov'd indeed,

And would have giv'n me consorts of fit speed

To my distresses' ending! But, as now

All knowledge flies me where I may bestow

My labour'd purchase, here they shall not stay,

Lest what I car'd for others make their prey.

O Gods! I see the great Phæacians then

Were not all just and understanding men,

That land me elsewhere than their vaunts pretended,

Assuring me my country should see ended

My miseries told them, yet now eat their vaunts.

O Jove! Great Guardian of poor suppliants,

That others sees, and notes too, shutting in

All in thy plagues that most presume on sin,

Revenge me on them. Let me number now

The goods they gave, to give my mind to know

If they have stol'n none in their close retreat."

The goodly caldrons then, and tripods, set

In sev'ral ranks from out the heap, he told,

His rich wrought garments too, and all his gold,

πόλλʼ ὀλοφυρόμενος. σχεδόθεν δέ οἱ ἦλθεν Ἀθήνη,

And nothing lack'd; and yet this man did mourn

ἀνδρὶ δέμας εἰκυῖα νέῳ, ἐπιβώτορι μήλων,

The but suppos'd miss of his home-return,

παναπάλῳ, οἷοί τε ἀνάκτων παῖδες ἔασι,

And creeping to the shore with much complaint;

δίπτυχον ἀμφʼ ὤμοισιν ἔχουσʼ εὐεργέα λώπην·

Minerva (like a shepherd, young, and quaint,

ποσσὶ δʼ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσι πέδιλʼ ἔχε, χερσὶ δʼ ἄκοντα.

As king sons are, a double mantle cast

τὴν δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς γήθησεν ἰδὼν καὶ ἐναντίος ἦλθε,

Athwart his shoulders, his fair goers grac'd

καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

With fitted shoes, and in his hand a dart)

ὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεί σε πρῶτα κιχάνω τῷδʼ ἐνὶ χώρῳ,

Appear'd to him, whose sight rejoic'd his heart,

χαῖρέ τε καὶ μή μοί τι κακῷ νόῳ ἀντιβολήσαις,

To whom he came, and said: "O friend! Since first

ἀλλὰ σάω μὲν ταῦτα, σάω δʼ ἐμέ· σοὶ γὰρ ἐγώ γε

I meet your sight here, be all good the worst

εὔχομαι ὥς τε θεῷ καί σευ φίλα γούναθʼ ἱκάνω.

That can join our encounter. Fare you fair,

καί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ·

Nor with adverse mind welcome my repair,

τίς γῆ, τίς δῆμος, τίνες ἀνέρες ἐγγεγάασιν;

But guard these goods of mine, and succour me.

ἦ πού τις νήσων εὐδείελος, ἦέ τις ἀκτὴ

As to a God I offer pray'rs to thee,

κεῖθʼ ἁλὶ κεκλιμένη ἐριβώλακος ἠπείροιο;

And low access make to thy lovéd knee.

τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·

Say truth, that I may know, what country then,

νήπιός εἰς, ὦ ξεῖνʼ, ἢ τηλόθεν εἰλήλουθας,

What common people live here, and what men?

εἰ δὴ τήνδε τε γαῖαν ἀνείρεαι. οὐδέ τι λίην

Some famous isle is this? Or gives it vent,

οὕτω νώνυμός ἐστιν· ἴσασι δέ μιν μάλα πολλοί,

Being near the sea, to some rich continent?"

ἠμὲν ὅσοι ναίουσι πρὸς ἠῶ τʼ ἠέλιόν τε,

She answer'd: "Stranger, whatsoe'er you are,

ἠδʼ ὅσσοι μετόπισθε ποτὶ ζόφον ἠερόεντα.

Y'are either foolish, or come passing far,

ἦ τοι μὲν τρηχεῖα καὶ οὐχ ἱππήλατός ἐστιν,

That know not this isle, and make that doubt trouble,

οὐδὲ λίην λυπρή, ἀτὰρ οὐδʼ εὐρεῖα τέτυκται.

For 'tis not so exceedingly ignoble,

ἐν μὲν γάρ οἱ σῖτος ἀθέσφατος, ἐν δέ τε οἶνος

But passing many know it; and so many,

γίγνεται· αἰεὶ δʼ ὄμβρος ἔχει τεθαλυῖά τʼ ἐέρση·

That of all nations there abides not any,

αἰγίβοτος δʼ ἀγαθὴ καὶ βούβοτος· ἔστι μὲν ὕλη

From where the morning rises and the sun,

παντοίη, ἐν δʼ ἀρδμοὶ ἐπηετανοὶ παρέασι.

To where the even and night their courses run,

τῷ τοι, ξεῖνʼ, Ἰθάκης γε καὶ ἐς Τροίην ὄνομʼ ἵκει,

But know this country. Rocky 'tis, and rough,

τήν περ τηλοῦ φασὶν Ἀχαιΐδος ἔμμεναι αἴης.

And so for use of horse unapt enough,

ὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,

Yet with sad barrenness not much infested,

χαίρων ᾗ γαίῃ πατρωΐῃ, ὥς οἱ ἔειπε

Since clouds are here in frequent rains digested,

Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διὸς, αἰγιόχοιο·

And flow'ry dews. The compass is not great,

καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

The little yet well-fill'd with wine and wheat.

οὐδʼ ὅ γʼ ἀληθέα εἶπε, πάλιν δʼ ὅ γε λάζετο μῦθον,

It feeds a goat and ox well, being still

αἰεὶ ἐνὶ στήθεσσι νόον πολυκερδέα νωμῶν·

Water'd with floods, that ever over-fill

πυνθανόμην Ἰθάκης γε καὶ ἐν Κρήτῃ εὐρείῃ,

With heav'n's continual show'rs; and wooded so,

τηλοῦ ὑπὲρ πόντου· νῦν δʼ εἰλήλουθα καὶ αὐτὸς

It makes a spring of all the kinds that grow.

χρήμασι σὺν τοίσδεσσι· λιπὼν δʼ ἔτι παισὶ τοσαῦτα

And therefore, Stranger, the extended name

φεύγω, ἐπεὶ φίλον υἷα κατέκτανον Ἰδομενῆος,

Of this dominion makes access by fame

Ὀρσίλοχον πόδας ὠκύν, ὃς ἐν Κρήτῃ εὐρείῃ

From this extreme part of Achaia

ἀνέρας ἀλφηστὰς νίκα ταχέεσσι πόδεσσιν,

As far as Ilion, and 'tis Ithaca."

οὕνεκά με στερέσαι τῆς ληΐδος ἤθελε πάσης

This joy'd him much, that so unknown a land

Τρωϊάδος, τῆς εἵνεκʼ ἐγὼ πάθον ἄλγεα θυμῷ,

Turn'd to his country. Yet so wise a hand

ἀνδρῶν τε πτολέμους ἀλεγεινά τε κύματα πείρων,

He carried, ev'n of this joy, flown so high,

οὕνεκʼ ἄρʼ οὐχ ᾧ πατρὶ χαριζόμενος θεράπευον

That other end he put to his reply

δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ἀλλʼ ἄλλων ἦρχον ἑταίρων.

Than straight to show that joy, and lay abroad

τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ κατιόντα βάλον χαλκήρεϊ δουρὶ

His life to strangers. Therefore he bestow'd

ἀγρόθεν, ἐγγὺς ὁδοῖο λοχησάμενος σὺν ἑταίρῳ·

A veil on truth; for evermore did wind

νὺξ δὲ μάλα δνοφερὴ κάτεχʼ οὐρανόν, οὐδέ τις ἡμέας

About his bosom a most crafty mind,

ἀνθρώπων ἐνόησε, λάθον δέ ἑ θυμὸν ἀπούρας.

Which thus his words show'd: "I have far at sea,

αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ τόν γε κατέκτανον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,

In spacious Crete, heard speak of Ithaca,

αὐτίκʼ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆα κιὼν Φοίνικας ἀγαυοὺς

Of which myself, it seems, now reach the shore,

ἐλλισάμην, καί σφιν μενοεικέα ληΐδα δῶκα·

With these my fortunes; whose whole value more

τούς μʼ ἐκέλευσα Πύλονδε καταστῆσαι καὶ ἐφέσσαι

I left in Crete amongst my children there,

ἢ εἰς Ἤλιδα δῖαν, ὅθι κρατέουσιν Ἐπειοί.

From whence I fly for being the slaughterer

Of royal Idomen's most-lovéd son,

Swift-foot Orsilochus, that could out-run

Profess'd men for the race. Yet him I slew,

Because he would deprive me of my due

In Trojan prise; for which I suffer'd so

(The rude waves piercing) the redoubled woe

Of mind and body in the wars of men.

Nor did I gratify his father then

With any service, but, as well as he

Sway'd in command of other soldiery,

So, with a friend withdrawn, we waylaid him,

When gloomy night the cope of heav'n did dim,

And no man knew; but, we lodg'd close, he came,

And I put out to him his vital flame.

Whose slaughter having author'd with my sword,

I instant flight made, and straight fell aboard

A ship of the renown'd Phœnician state;

When pray'r, and pay at a sufficient rate,

Obtain'd my pass of men in her command;

Whom I enjoin'd to set me on the land

Of Pylos, or of Elis the divine,

Where the Epeïans in great empire shine.

But force of weather check'd that course to them,

Though (loth to fail me) to their most extreme

They spent their willing pow'rs. But, forc'd from thence,

ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι σφέας κεῖθεν ἀπώσατο ἲς ἀνέμοιο

We err'd, and put in here, with much expence

πόλλʼ ἀεκαζομένους, οὐδʼ ἤθελον ἐξαπατῆσαι.

Of care and labour; and in dead of night,

κεῖθεν δὲ πλαγχθέντες ἱκάνομεν ἐνθάδε νυκτός.

When no man there serv'd any appetite

σπουδῇ δʼ ἐς λιμένα προερέσσαμεν, οὐδέ τις ἡμῖν

So much as with the memory of food,

δόρπου μνῆστις ἔην, μάλα περ χατέουσιν ἑλέσθαι,

Though our estates exceeding needy stood.

ἀλλʼ αὔτως ἀποβάντες ἐκείμεθα νηὸς ἅπαντες.

But, going ashore, we lay; when gentle sleep

ἔνθʼ ἐμὲ μὲν γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἐπήλυθε κεκμηῶτα,

My weary pow'rs invaded, and from ship

οἱ δὲ χρήματʼ ἐμὰ γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἑλόντες

They fetching these my riches, with just hand

κάτθεσαν, ἔνθα περ αὐτὸς ἐπὶ ψαμάθοισιν ἐκείμην.

About me laid them, while upon the sand

οἱ δʼ ἐς Σιδονίην εὖ ναιομένην ἀναβάντες

Sleep bound my senses; and for Sidon they

ᾤχοντʼ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ λιπόμην ἀκαχήμενος ἦτορ.

(Put off from hence) made sail, while here I lay,

ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,

Left sad alone." The Goddess laugh'd, and took

χειρί τέ μιν κατέρεξε· δέμας δʼ ἤϊκτο γυναικὶ

His hand in hers, and with another look

καλῇ τε μεγάλῃ τε καὶ ἀγλαὰ ἔργα ἰδυίῃ·

(Assuming then the likeness of a dame,

καί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

Lovely and goodly, expert in the frame

κερδαλέος κʼ εἴη καὶ ἐπίκλοπος ὅς σε παρέλθοι

Of virtuous housewif'ries) she answer'd thus:

ἐν πάντεσσι δόλοισι, καὶ εἰ θεὸς ἀντιάσειε.

"He should be passing-sly, and covetous

σχέτλιε, ποικιλομῆτα, δόλων ἆτʼ, οὐκ ἄρʼ ἔμελλες,

Of stealth, in men's deceits, that coted thee

οὐδʼ ἐν σῇ περ ἐὼν γαίῃ, λήξειν ἀπατάων

In any craft, though any God should be

μύθων τε κλοπίων, οἵ τοι πεδόθεν φίλοι εἰσίν.

Ambitious to exceed in subtilty.

ἀλλʼ ἄγε, μηκέτι ταῦτα λεγώμεθα, εἰδότες ἄμφω

Thou still-wit-varying wretch! Insatiate

κέρδεʼ, ἐπεὶ σὺ μέν ἐσσι βροτῶν ὄχʼ ἄριστος ἁπάντων

In over-reaches! Not secure thy state

βουλῇ καὶ μύθοισιν, ἐγὼ δʼ ἐν πᾶσι θεοῖσι

Without these wiles, though on thy native shore

μήτι τε κλέομαι καὶ κέρδεσιν· οὐδὲ σύ γʼ ἔγνως

Thou sett'st safe footing, but upon thy store

Παλλάδʼ Ἀθηναίην, κούρην Διός, ἥ τέ τοι αἰεὶ

Of false words still spend, that ev'n from thy birth

ἐν πάντεσσι πόνοισι παρίσταμαι ἠδὲ φυλάσσω,

Have been thy best friends? Come, our either worth

καὶ δέ σε Φαιήκεσσι φίλον πάντεσσιν ἔθηκα,

Is known to either. Thou of men art far,

νῦν αὖ δεῦρʼ ἱκόμην, ἵνα τοι σὺν μῆτιν ὑφήνω

For words and counsels, the most singular,

χρήματά τε κρύψω, ὅσα τοι Φαίηκες ἀγαυοὶ

But I above the Gods in both may boast

ὤπασαν οἴκαδʼ ἰόντι ἐμῇ βουλῇ τε νόῳ τε,

My still-tried faculties. Yet thou hast lost

εἴπω θʼ ὅσσα τοι αἶσα δόμοις ἔνι ποιητοῖσι

The knowledge ev'n of me, the Seed of Jove,

κήδεʼ ἀνασχέσθαι· σὺ δὲ τετλάμεναι καὶ ἀνάγκῃ,

Pallas Athenia, that have still out-strove

μηδέ τῳ ἐκφάσθαι μήτʼ ἀνδρῶν μήτε γυναικῶν,

In all thy labours their extremes, and stood

πάντων, οὕνεκʼ ἄρʼ ἦλθες ἀλώμενος, ἀλλὰ σιωπῇ

Thy sure guard ever, making all thy good

πάσχειν ἄλγεα πολλά, βίας ὑποδέγμενος ἀνδρῶν.

Known to the good Phæacians, and receiv'd.

τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·

And now again I greet thee, to see weav'd

ἀργαλέον σε, θεά, γνῶναι βροτῷ ἀντιάσαντι,

Fresh counsels for thee, and will take on me

καὶ μάλʼ ἐπισταμένῳ· σὲ γὰρ αὐτὴν παντὶ ἐΐσκεις.

The close reserving of these goods for thee,

τοῦτο δʼ ἐγὼν εὖ οἶδʼ, ὅτι μοι πάρος ἠπίη ἦσθα,

Which the renown'd Phæacian states bestow'd

ἧος ἐνὶ Τροίῃ πολεμίζομεν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν.

At thy deduction homewards, only mov'd

αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ Πριάμοιο πόλιν διεπέρσαμεν αἰπήν,

With my both spirit and counsel. All which grace

βῆμεν δʼ ἐν νήεσσι, θεὸς δʼ ἐκέδασσεν Ἀχαιούς,

I now will amplify, and tell what case

οὔ σέ γʼ ἔπειτα ἴδον, κούρη Διός, οὐδʼ ἐνόησα

Thy household stands in, utt'ring all those pains

νηὸς ἐμῆς ἐπιβᾶσαν, ὅπως τί μοι ἄλγος ἀλάλκοις.

That of mere need yet still must wrack thy veins.

ἀλλʼ αἰεὶ φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ἔχων δεδαϊγμένον ἦτορ

Do thou then freely bear, nor one word give

ἠλώμην, ἧός με θεοὶ κακότητος ἔλυσαν·

To man nor dame to show thou yet dost live,

πρίν γʼ ὅτε Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν ἐν πίονι δήμῳ

But silent suffer over all again

θάρσυνάς τε ἔπεσσι καὶ ἐς πόλιν ἤγαγες αὐτή.

Thy sorrows past, and bear the wrongs of men."

νῦν δέ σε πρὸς πατρὸς γουνάζομαι—οὐ γὰρ ὀΐω

"Goddess," said he, "unjust men, and unwise,

ἥκειν εἰς Ἰθάκην εὐδείελον, ἀλλά τινʼ ἄλλην

That author injuries and vanities,

γαῖαν ἀναστρέφομαι· σὲ δὲ κερτομέουσαν ὀΐω

By vanities and wrongs should rather be

ταῦτʼ ἀγορευέμεναι, ἵνʼ ἐμὰς φρένας ἠπεροπεύσῃς—

Bound to this ill-abearing destiny,

εἰπέ μοι εἰ ἐτεόν γε φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἱκάνω.

Than just and wise men. What delight hath heav'n,

τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·

That lives unhurt itself, to suffer giv'n

αἰεί τοι τοιοῦτον ἐνὶ στήθεσσι νόημα·

Up to all domage those poor few that strive

To imitate it, and like the Deities live?

But where you wonder that I know you not

Through all your changes, that skill is not got

By sleight or art, since thy most hard-hit face

Is still distinguish'd by thy free-giv'n grace;

And therefore, truly to acknowledge thee

In thy encounters, is a mastery

In men most-knowing; for to all men thou

Tak'st sev'ral likeness. All men think they know

Thee in their wits; but, since thy seeming view

Appears to all, and yet thy truth to few,

Through all thy changes to discern thee right

Asks chief love to thee, and inspiréd light.

But this I surely know, that, some years past,

I have been often with thy presence grac'd,

All time the sons of Greece wag'd war at Troy;

But when Fate's full hour let our swords enjoy

Our vows in sack of Priam's lofty town,

Our ships all boarded, and when God had blown

Our fleet in sunder, I could never see

The Seed of Jove, nor once distinguish thee

Boarding my ship, to take one woe from me.

But only in my proper spirit involv'd,

Err'd here and there, quite slain, till heav'n dissolv'd

Me, and my ill; which chanc'd not, till thy grace

By open speech confirm'd me, in a place

τῷ σε καὶ οὐ δύναμαι προλιπεῖν δύστηνον ἐόντα,

Fruitful of people, where, in person, thou

οὕνεκʼ ἐπητής ἐσσι καὶ ἀγχίνοος καὶ ἐχέφρων.

Didst give me guide, and all their city show;

ἀσπασίως γάρ κʼ ἄλλος ἀνὴρ ἀλαλήμενος ἐλθὼν

And that was the renown'd Phæacian earth.

ἵετʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροις ἰδέειν παῖδάς τʼ ἄλοχόν τε·

Now then, ev'n by the Author of thy birth,

σοὶ δʼ οὔ πω φίλον ἐστὶ δαήμεναι οὐδὲ πυθέσθαι,

Vouchsafe my doubt the truth (for far it flies

πρίν γʼ ἔτι σῆς ἀλόχου πειρήσεαι, ἥ τέ τοι αὔτως

My thoughts that thus should fall into mine eyes

ἧσται ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν, ὀϊζυραὶ δέ οἱ αἰεὶ

Conspicuous Ithaca, but fear I touch

φθίνουσιν νύκτες τε καὶ ἤματα δάκρυ χεούσῃ.

At some far shore, and that thy wit is such

αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τὸ μὲν οὔ ποτʼ ἀπίστεον, ἀλλʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ

Thou dost delude me) is it sure the same

ᾔδεʼ, ὃ νοστήσεις ὀλέσας ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους·

Most honour'd earth that bears my country's name?"

ἀλλά τοι οὐκ ἐθέλησα Ποσειδάωνι μάχεσθαι

"I see," said she, "thou wilt be ever thus

πατροκασιγνήτῳ, ὅς τοι κότον ἔνθετο θυμῷ,

In ev'ry worldly good incredulous,

χωόμενος ὅτι οἱ υἱὸν φίλον ἐξαλάωσας.

And therefore have no more the pow'r to see

ἀλλʼ ἄγε τοι δείξω Ἰθάκης ἕδος, ὄφρα πεποίθῃς.

Frail life more plagued with infelicity

Φόρκυνος μὲν ὅδʼ ἐστὶ λιμήν, ἁλίοιο γέροντος,

In one so eloquent, ingenious, wise.

ἥδε δʼ ἐπὶ κρατὸς λιμένος τανύφυλλος ἐλαίη·

Another man, that so long miseries

ἀγχόθι δʼ αὐτῆς ἄντρον ἐπήρατον ἠεροειδές,

Had kept from his lov'd home, and thus return'd

ἱρὸν νυμφάων, αἳ νηϊάδες καλέονται·

To see his house, wife, children, would have burn'd

τοῦτο δέ τοι σπέος ἐστὶ κατηρεφές, ἔνθα σὺ πολλὰς

In headlong lust to visit. Yet t' inquire

ἔρδεσκες νύμφῃσι τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας·

What states they hold, affects not thy desire,

τοῦτο δὲ Νήριτόν ἐστιν ὄρος καταειμένον ὕλῃ.

Till thou hast tried if in thy wife there be

ὣς εἰποῦσα θεὰ σκέδασʼ ἠέρα, εἴσατο δὲ χθών·

A sorrow wasting days and nights for thee

γήθησέν τʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,

In loving tears, that then the sight may prove

χαίρων ᾗ γαίῃ, κύσε δὲ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.

A full reward for either's mutual love.

αὐτίκα δὲ νύμφῃς ἠρήσατο, χεῖρας ἀνασχών·

But I would never credit in you both

νύμφαι νηϊάδες, κοῦραι Διός, οὔ ποτʼ ἐγώ γε

Least cause of sorrow, but well knew the troth

ὄψεσθʼ ὔμμʼ ἐφάμην· νῦν δʼ εὐχωλῇς ἀγανῇσι

Of this thine own return, though all thy friends,

χαίρετʼ· ἀτὰρ καὶ δῶρα διδώσομεν, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ,

I knew as well, should make returnless ends;

αἴ κεν ἐᾷ πρόφρων με Διὸς θυγάτηρ ἀγελείη

Yet would not cross mine uncle Neptune so

αὐτόν τε ζώειν καί μοι φίλον υἱὸν ἀέξῃ.

To stand their safeguard, since so high did go

τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·

His wrath for thy extinction of the eye

θάρσει, μή τοι ταῦτα μετὰ φρεσὶ σῇσι μελόντων.

Of his lov'd son. Come then, I'll show thee why

ἀλλὰ χρήματα μὲν μυχῷ ἄντρου θεσπεσίοιο

I call this isle thy Ithaca, to ground

θείμεν αὐτίκα νῦν, ἵνα περ τάδε τοι σόα μίμνῃ·

Thy credit on my words: This haven is own'd

αὐτοὶ δὲ φραζώμεθʼ ὅπως ὄχʼ ἄριστα γένηται.

By th' agéd sea-god Phorcys, in whose brow

ὣς εἰποῦσα θεὰ δῦνε σπέος ἠεροειδές,

This is the olive with the ample bough,

μαιομένη κευθμῶνας ἀνὰ σπέος· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς

And here, close by, the pleasant-shaded cave

ἆσσον πάντʼ ἐφόρει, χρυσὸν καὶ ἀτειρέα χαλκὸν

That to the Fount-Nymphs th' Ithacensians gave,

εἵματά τʼ εὐποίητα, τά οἱ Φαίηκες ἔδωκαν.

As sacred to their pleasures. Here doth run

καὶ τὰ μὲν εὖ κατέθηκε, λίθον δʼ ἐπέθηκε θύρῃσι

The large and cover'd den, where thou hast done

Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο.

Hundreds of off'rings to the Naiades,

τὼ δὲ καθεζομένω ἱερῆς παρὰ πυθμένʼ ἐλαίης

Here Mount Neritus shakes his curléd tress

φραζέσθην μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισιν ὄλεθρον.

Of shady woods." This said, she clear'd the cloud

τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·

That first deceiv'd his eyes; and all things show'd

διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχανʼ Ὀδυσσεῦ,

His country to him. Glad he stood with sight

φράζευ ὅπως μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφήσεις,

Of his lov'd soil, and kiss'd it with delight;

οἳ δή τοι τρίετες μέγαρον κάτα κοιρανέουσι,

And instantly to all the Nymphs he paid

μνώμενοι ἀντιθέην ἄλοχον καὶ ἕδνα διδόντες·

(With hands held up to heav'n) these vows, and said:

ἡ δὲ σὸν αἰεὶ νόστον ὀδυρομένη κατὰ θυμὸν

"Ye Nymphs the Naiades, great Seed of Jove,

πάντας μέν ῥʼ ἔλπει καὶ ὑπίσχεται ἀνδρὶ ἑκάστῳ,

I had conceit that never more should move

ἀγγελίας προϊεῖσα, νόος δέ οἱ ἄλλα μενοινᾷ.

Your sight in these spheres of my erring eyes,

τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·

And therefore, in the fuller sacrifice

ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο

Of my heart's gratitude, rejoice, till more

φθίσεσθαι κακὸν οἶτον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔμελλον,

I pay your names in off'rings as before;

εἰ μή μοι σὺ ἕκαστα, θεά, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.

Which here I vow, if Jove's benign descent,

The mighty Pillager, with life convent

My person home, and to my sav'd decease

Of my lov'd son's sight add the sweet increase."

"Be confident," said Pallas, "nor oppress

Thy spirits with care of these performances,

But these thy fortunes let us straight repose

In this divine cave's bosom, that may close

Reserve their value; and we then may see

How best to order other acts to thee."

Thus enter'd she the light-excluding cave,

And through it sought some inmost nook to save

The gold, the great brass, and robes richly-wrought,

Giv'n to Ulysses. All which in he brought,

Laid down in heap; and she impos'd a stone

Close to the cavern's mouth. Then sat they on

The sacred olive's root, consulting how

To act th' insulting Wooers' overthrow;

When Pallas said: "Examine now the means

That best may lay hands on the impudence

Of those proud Wooers, that have now three years

Thy roof's rule sway'd, and been bold offerers

Of suit and gifts to thy renownéd wife,

Who for thy absence all her desolate life

Dissolves in tears till thy desir'd return;

Yet all her Wooers, while she thus doth mourn,

ἀλλʼ ἄγε μῆτιν ὕφηνον, ὅπως ἀποτίσομαι αὐτούς·

She holds in hope, and ev'ry one affords

πὰρ δέ μοι αὐτὴ στῆθι, μένος πολυθαρσὲς ἐνεῖσα,