Odyssey

But he the rough way took from forth the port,

αὐτὰρ ὁ ἐκ λιμένος προσέβη τρηχεῖαν ἀταρπὸν

Through woods and hill-tops, seeking the resort

χῶρον ἀνʼ ὑλήεντα διʼ ἄκριας, ᾗ οἱ Ἀθήνη

Where Pallas said divine Eumæus liv'd;

πέφραδε δῖον ὑφορβόν, ὅ οἱ βιότοιο μάλιστα

Who of the fortunes, that were first achiev'd

κήδετο οἰκήων, οὓς κτήσατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.

By God-like Ithacus in household rights,

τὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ἐνὶ προδόμῳ εὗρʼ ἥμενον, ἔνθα οἱ αὐλὴ

Had more true care than all his prosylites.

ὑψηλὴ δέδμητο, περισκέπτῳ ἐνὶ χώρῳ,

He found him sitting in his cottage door,

καλή τε μεγάλη τε, περίδρομος· ἥν ῥα συβώτης

Where he had rais'd to ev'ry airy blore

αὐτὸς δείμαθʼ ὕεσσιν ἀποιχομένοιο ἄνακτος,

A front of great height, and in such a place

νόσφιν δεσποίνης καὶ Λαέρταο γέροντος,

That round ye might behold, of circular grace

ῥυτοῖσιν λάεσσι καὶ ἐθρίγκωσεν ἀχέρδῳ·

A walk so wound about it; which the swain

σταυροὺς δʼ ἐκτὸς ἔλασσε διαμπερὲς ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα,

(In absence of his far-gone sovereign)

πυκνοὺς καὶ θαμέας, τὸ μέλαν δρυὸς ἀμφικεάσσας·

Had built himself, without his queen's supply,

ἔντοσθεν δʼ αὐλῆς συφεοὺς δυοκαίδεκα ποίει

Or old Laertes', to see safely lie

πλησίον ἀλλήλων, εὐνὰς συσίν· ἐν δὲ ἑκάστῳ

His houséd herd. The inner part he wrought

πεντήκοντα σύες χαμαιευνάδες ἐρχατόωντο,

Of stones, that thither his own labours brought,

θήλειαι τοκάδες· τοὶ δʼ ἄρσενες ἐκτὸς ἴαυον,

Which with an hedge of thorn he fenc'd about,

πολλὸν παυρότεροι· τοὺς γὰρ μινύθεσκον ἔδοντες

And compass'd all the hedge with pales cleft out

ἀντίθεοι μνηστῆρες, ἐπεὶ προΐαλλε συβώτης

Of sable oak, that here and there he fix'd

αἰεὶ ζατρεφέων σιάλων τὸν ἄριστον ἁπάντων·

Frequent and thick. Within his yard he mix'd

οἱ δὲ τριηκόσιοί τε καὶ ἑξήκοντα πέλοντο.

Twelve styes to lodge his herd; and ev'ry stye

πὰρ δὲ κύνες, θήρεσσιν ἐοικότες αἰὲν ἴαυον

Had room and use for fifty swine to lie;

τέσσαρες, οὓς ἔθρεψε συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν.

But those were females all. The male swine slept

αὐτὸς δʼ ἀμφὶ πόδεσσιν ἑοῖς ἀράρισκε πέδιλα,

Without doors ever; nor was their herd kept

τάμνων δέρμα βόειον ἐϋχροές· οἱ δὲ δὴ ἄλλοι

Fair like the females, since they suffer'd still

ᾤχοντʼ ἄλλυδις ἄλλος ἅμʼ ἀγρομένοισι σύεσσιν,

Great diminution, he being forc'd to kill

οἱ τρεῖς· τὸν δὲ τέταρτον ἀποπροέηκε πόλινδε

And send the fattest to the dainty feasts

σῦν ἀγέμεν μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισιν ἀνάγκῃ,

Affected by th' ungodly wooing guests.

ὄφρʼ ἱερεύσαντες κρειῶν κορεσαίατο θυμόν.

Their number therefore but three hundred were

ἐξαπίνης δʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἴδον κύνες ὑλακόμωροι.

And sixty. By them mastiffs, as austere

οἱ μὲν κεκλήγοντες ἐπέδραμον· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς

As savage beasts, lay ever, their fierce strain

ἕζετο κερδοσύνη, σκῆπτρον δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε χειρός.

Bred by the herdsman, a mere prince of men,

ἔνθα κεν ᾧ πὰρ σταθμῷ ἀεικέλιον πάθεν ἄλγος·

Their number four. Himself was then applied

ἀλλὰ συβώτης ὦκα ποσὶ κραιπνοῖσι μετασπὼν

In cutting forth a fair-hued ox's hide,

ἔσσυτʼ ἀνὰ πρόθυρον, σκῦτος δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε χειρός.

To fit his feet with shoes. His servants held

τοὺς μὲν ὁμοκλήσας σεῦεν κύνας ἄλλυδις ἄλλον

Guard of his swine: three, here and there, at field,

πυκνῇσιν λιθάδεσσιν· ὁ δὲ προσέειπεν ἄνακτα·

The fourth he sent to city with a sow,

ὦ γέρον, ἦ ὀλίγου σε κύνες διεδηλήσαντο

Which must of force be offer'd to the vow

ἐξαπίνης, καί κέν μοι ἐλεγχείην κατέχευας.

The Wooers made to all satiety,

καὶ δέ μοι ἄλλα θεοὶ δόσαν ἄλγεά τε στοναχάς τε·

To serve which still they did those off'rings ply.

ἀντιθέου γὰρ ἄνακτος ὀδυρόμενος καὶ ἀχεύων

The fate-born-dogs-to-bark took sudden view

ἧμαι, ἄλλοισιν δὲ σύας σιάλους ἀτιτάλλω

Of Odyssëus, and upon him flew

ἔδμεναι· αὐτὰρ κεῖνος ἐελδόμενός που ἐδωδῆς

With open mouth. He, cunning to appall

πλάζετʼ ἐπʼ ἀλλοθρόων ἀνδρῶν δῆμόν τε πόλιν τε,

A fierce dog's fury, from his hand let fall

εἴ που ἔτι ζώει καὶ ὁρᾷ φάος ἠελίοιο.

His staff to earth, and sat him careless down.

ἀλλʼ ἕπεο, κλισίηνδʼ ἴομεν, γέρον, ὄφρα καὶ αὐτός,

And yet to him had one foul wrong been shown

σίτου καὶ οἴνοιο κορεσσάμενος κατὰ θυμόν,

Where most his right lay, had not instantly

εἴπῃς ὁππόθεν ἐσσὶ καὶ ὁππόσα κήδεʼ ἀνέτλης.

The herdsman let his hide fall, and his cry

ὣς εἰπὼν κλισίηνδʼ ἡγήσατο δῖος ὑφορβός,

(With frequent stones flung at the dogs) repell'd

εἷσεν δʼ εἰσαγαγών, ῥῶπας δʼ ὑπέχευε δασείας,

This way and that their eager course they held;

ἐστόρεσεν δʼ ἐπὶ δέρμα ἰονθάδος ἀγρίου αἰγός,

When through the entry past, he thus did mourn:

αὐτοῦ ἐνεύναιον, μέγα καὶ δασύ. χαῖρε δʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς

"O father! How soon had you near been torn

ὅττι μιν ὣς ὑπέδεκτο, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·

By these rude dogs, whose hurt had branded me

Ζεύς τοι δοίη, ξεῖνε, καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι

With much neglect of you! But Deity

ὅττι μάλιστʼ ἐθέλεις, ὅτι με πρόφρων ὑπέδεξο.

Hath giv'n so many other sighs and cares

τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·

To my attendant state, that well unwares

ξεῖνʼ, οὔ μοι θέμις ἔστʼ, οὐδʼ εἰ κακίων σέθεν ἔλθοι,

You might be hurt for me, for here I lie

ξεῖνον ἀτιμῆσαι· πρὸς γὰρ Διός εἰσιν ἅπαντες

Grieving and mourning for the Majesty

ξεῖνοί τε πτωχοί τε· δόσις δʼ ὀλίγη τε φίλη τε

That, God-like, wonted to be ruling here,

γίγνεται ἡμετέρη· ἡ γὰρ δμώων δίκη ἐστὶν

Since now I fat his swine for others' cheer,

αἰεὶ δειδιότων, ὅτʼ ἐπικρατέωσιν ἄνακτες

Where he, perhaps, errs hungry up and down,

οἱ νέοι. ἦ γὰρ τοῦ γε θεοὶ κατὰ νόστον ἔδησαν,

In countries, nations, cities, all unknown;

ὅς κεν ἔμʼ ἐνδυκέως ἐφίλει καὶ κτῆσιν ὄπασσεν,

If any where he lives yet, and doth see

οἶκόν τε κλῆρόν τε πολυμνήστην τε γυναῖκα,

The sun's sweet beams. But, father, follow me,

οἷά τε ᾧ οἰκῆϊ ἄναξ εὔθυμος ἔδωκεν,

That, cheer'd with wine and food, you may disclose

ὅς οἱ πολλὰ κάμῃσι, θεὸς δʼ ἐπὶ ἔργον ἀέξῃ,

From whence you truly are, and all the woes

Your age is subject to." This said, he led

Into his cottage, and of osiers spread

A thicken'd hurdle, on whose top he strow'd

A wild-goat's shaggy skin, and then bestow'd

His own couch on it, that was soft and great.

Ulysses joy'd to see him so entreat

His uncouth presence, saying: "Jove requite,

And all th' immortal Gods, with that delight

Thou most desir'st, thy kind receipt of me,

friend to human hospitality!"

Eumæus answer'd: "Guest! If one much worse

Arriv'd here than thyself, it were a curse

To my poor means, to let a stranger taste

Contempt for fit food. Poor men, and unplac'd

In free seats of their own, are all from Jove

Commended to our entertaining love.

But poor is th' entertainment I can give,

Yet free and loving. Of such men as live

The lives of servants, and are still in fear

Where young lords govern, this is all the cheer

They can afford a stranger. There was one

That us'd to manage this now desert throne,

To whom the Gods deny return, that show'd

His curious favour to me, and bestow'd

Possessions on me, a most-wishéd wife,

A house, and portion, and a servant's life,

Fit for the gift a gracious king should give;

Who still took pains himself, and God made thrive

His personal endeavour, and to me

His work the more increas'd, in which you see

ὡς καὶ ἐμοὶ τόδε ἔργον ἀέξεται, ᾧ ἐπιμίμνω.

I now am conversant. And therefore much

τῷ κέ με πόλλʼ ὤνησεν ἄναξ, εἰ αὐτόθʼ ἐγήρα·

His hand had help'd me, had Heav'n's will been such,

ἀλλʼ ὄλεθʼ—ὡς ὤφελλʼ Ἑλένης ἀπὸ φῦλον ὀλέσθαι

He might have here grown old. But he is gone,

πρόχνυ, ἐπεὶ πολλῶν ἀνδρῶν ὑπὸ γούνατʼ ἔλυσε·

And would to God the whole successión

καὶ γὰρ κεῖνος ἔβη Ἀγαμέμνονος εἵνεκα τιμῆς

Of Helen might go with him, since for her

Ἴλιον εἰς εὔπωλον, ἵνα Τρώεσσι μάχοιτο.

So many men died, whose fate did confer

ὣς εἰπὼν ζωστῆρι θοῶς συνέεργε χιτῶνα,

My liege to Troy, in Agamemnon's grace,

βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἐς συφεούς, ὅθι ἔθνεα ἔρχατο χοίρων.

To spoil her people, and her turrets race!"

ἔνθεν ἑλὼν δύʼ ἔνεικε καὶ ἀμφοτέρους ἱέρευσεν,

This said, his coat to him he straight did gird,

εὗσέ τε μίστυλλέν τε καὶ ἀμφʼ ὀβελοῖσιν ἔπειρεν.

And to his styes went that contain'd his herd;

ὀπτήσας δʼ ἄρα πάντα φέρων παρέθηκʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ

From whence he took out two, slew both, and cut

θέρμʼ αὐτοῖς ὀβελοῖσιν· ὁ δʼ ἄλφιτα λευκὰ πάλυνεν·

Both fairly up; a fire enflam'd, and put

ἐν δʼ ἄρα κισσυβίῳ κίρνη μελιηδέα οἶνον,

To spit the joints; which roasted well, he set

αὐτὸς δʼ ἀντίον ἷζεν, ἐποτρύνων δὲ προσηύδα·

With spit and all to him, that he might eat

ἔσθιε νῦν, ὦ ξεῖνε, τά τε δμώεσσι πάρεστι,

From thence his food in all the singeing heat,

χοίρεʼ· ἀτὰρ σιάλους γε σύας μνηστῆρες ἔδουσιν,

Yet dredg'd it first with flour; then fill'd his cup

οὐκ ὄπιδα φρονέοντες ἐνὶ φρεσὶν οὐδʼ ἐλεητύν.

With good sweet wine; sat then, and cheer'd him up

οὐ μὲν σχέτλια ἔργα θεοὶ μάκαρες φιλέουσιν,

"Eat now, my guest, such lean swine as are meat

ἀλλὰ δίκην τίουσι καὶ αἴσιμα ἔργʼ ἀνθρώπων.

For us poor swains; the fat the Wooers eat,

καὶ μὲν δυσμενέες καὶ ἀνάρσιοι, οἵ τʼ ἐπὶ γαίης

In whose minds no shame, no remorse, doth move,

ἀλλοτρίης βῶσιν καί σφι Ζεὺς ληΐδα δώῃ,

Though well they know the bless'd Gods do not love

πλησάμενοι δέ τε νῆας ἔβαν οἶκόνδε νέεσθαι,

Ungodly actions, but respect the right,

καὶ μὲν τοῖς ὄπιδος κρατερὸν δέος ἐν φρεσὶ πίπτει.

And in the works of pious men delight.

οἵδε δὲ καί τι ἴσασι, θεοῦ δέ τινʼ ἔκλυον αὐδήν,

But these are worse than impious, for those

κείνου λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον, ὅτʼ οὐκ ἐθέλουσι δικαίως

That vow t' injustice, and profess them foes

μνᾶσθαι οὐδὲ νέεσθαι ἐπὶ σφέτερʼ, ἀλλὰ ἕκηλοι

To other nations, enter on their land,

κτήματα δαρδάπτουσιν ὑπέρβιον, οὐδʼ ἔπι φειδώ.

And Jupiter (to show his punishing hand

ὅσσαι γὰρ νύκτες τε καὶ ἡμέραι ἐκ Διός εἰσιν,

Upon th' invaded, for their penance then)

οὔ ποθʼ ἓν ἱρεύουσʼ ἱερήϊον, οὐδὲ δύʼ οἴω·

Gives favour to their foes, though wicked men,

οἶνον δὲ φθινύθουσιν ὑπέρβιον ἐξαφύοντες.

To make their prey on them; who, having freight

ἦ γάρ οἱ ζωή γʼ ἦν ἄσπετος· οὔ τινι τόσση

Their ships with spoil enough, weigh anchor straight,

ἀνδρῶν ἡρώων, οὔτʼ ἠπείροιο μελαίνης

And each man to his house; (and yet ev'n these,

οὔτʼ αὐτῆς Ἰθάκης· οὐδὲ ξυνεείκοσι φωτῶν

Doth pow'rful fear of God's just vengeance seize

ἔστʼ ἄφενος τοσσοῦτον· ἐγὼ δέ κέ τοι καταλέξω.

Ev'n for that prize in which they so rejoice)

δώδεκʼ ἐν ἠπείρῳ ἀγέλαι· τόσα πώεα οἰῶν,

But these men, knowing (having heard the voice

τόσσα συῶν συβόσια, τόσʼ αἰπόλια πλατέʼ αἰγῶν

Of God by some means) that sad death hath reft

βόσκουσι ξεῖνοί τε καὶ αὐτοῦ βώτορες ἄνδρες.

The ruler here, will never suffer left

ἐνθάδε δʼ αἰπόλια πλατέʼ αἰγῶν ἕνδεκα πάντα

Their unjust wooing of his wife, nor take

ἐσχατιῇ βόσκοντʼ, ἐπὶ δʼ ἀνέρες ἐσθλοὶ ὄρονται.

Her often answer, and their own roofs make

τῶν αἰεί σφιν ἕκαστος ἐπʼ ἤματι μῆλον ἀγινεῖ,

Their fit retreats, but (since uncheck'd they may)

ζατρεφέων αἰγῶν ὅς τις φαίνηται ἄριστος.

They therefore will make still his goods their prey,

αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σῦς τάσδε φυλάσσω τε ῥύομαί τε,

Without all spare or end. There is no day,

καί σφι συῶν τὸν ἄριστον ἐῢ κρίνας ἀποπέμπω.

Nor night, sent out from God, that ever they

ὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δʼ ἐνδυκέως κρέα τʼ ἤσθιε πῖνέ τε οἶνον

Profane with one beast's blood, or only two,

ἁρπαλέως ἀκέων, κακὰ δὲ μνηστῆρσι φύτευεν.

But more make spoil of; and the wrongs they do

αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δείπνησε καὶ ἤραρε θυμὸν ἐδωδῇ,

In meat's excess to wine as well extend,

καί οἱ πλησάμενος δῶκε σκύφον, ᾧ περ ἔπινεν,

Which as excessively their riots spend,

οἴνου ἐνίπλειον· ὁ δʼ ἐδέξατο, χαῖρε δὲ θυμῷ,

Yet still leave store, for sure his means were great,

καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

And no heroë, that hath choicest seat

ὦ φίλε, τίς γάρ σε πρίατο κτεάτεσσιν ἑοῖσιν,

Upon the fruitful neighbour-continent,

ὧδε μάλʼ ἀφνειὸς καὶ καρτερὸς ὡς ἀγορεύεις;

Or in this isle itself, so opulent

φῆς δʼ αὐτὸν φθίσθαι Ἀγαμέμνονος εἵνεκα τιμῆς.

Was as Ulysses; no, nor twenty such,

εἰπέ μοι, αἴ κέ ποθι γνώω τοιοῦτον ἐόντα.

Put altogether, did possess so much.

Ζεὺς γάρ που τό γε οἶδε καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι,

Whose herds and flocks I'll tell to ev'ry head:

εἴ κέ μιν ἀγγείλαιμι ἰδών· ἐπὶ πολλὰ δʼ ἀλήθην.

Upon the continent he daily fed

τὸν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν·

Twelve herds of oxen, no less flocks of sheep,

ὦ γέρον, οὔ τις κεῖνον ἀνὴρ ἀλαλήμενος ἐλθὼν

As many herds of swine, stalls large and steep,

ἀγγέλλων πείσειε γυναῖκά τε καὶ φίλον υἱόν,

And equal sorts of goats, which tenants there,

ἀλλʼ ἄλλως κομιδῆς κεχρημένοι ἄνδρες ἀλῆται

And his own shepherds, kept. Then fed he here

ψεύδοντʼ, οὐδʼ ἐθέλουσιν ἀληθέα μυθήσασθαι.

Eleven fair stalls of goats, whose food hath yield

ὃς δέ κʼ ἀλητεύων Ἰθάκης ἐς δῆμον ἵκηται,

In the extreme part of a neighbour-field.

ἐλθὼν ἐς δέσποιναν ἐμὴν ἀπατήλια βάζει·

Each stall his herdsman hath, an honest swain,

ἡ δʼ εὖ δεξαμένη φιλέει καὶ ἕκαστα μεταλλᾷ,

Yet ev'ry one must ev'ry day sustain

καί οἱ ὀδυρομένῃ βλεφάρων ἄπο δάκρυα πίπτει,

The load of one beast (the most-fat, and best

ἣ θέμις ἐστὶ γυναικός, ἐπὴν πόσις ἄλλοθʼ ὄληται.

Of all the stall-fed) to the Wooers' feast.

αἶψά κε καὶ σύ, γεραιέ, ἔπος παρατεκτήναιο.

And I, for my part, of the swine I keep

εἴ τίς τοι χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα δοίη.

(With four more herdsmen) ev'ry day help steep

The Wooers' appetites in blood of one,

The most select our choice can fall upon."

To this Ulysses gave good ear, and fed,

And drunk his wine, and vex'd, and ravishéd

His food for mere vexation. Seeds of ill

His stomach sow'd, to hear his goods go still

To glut of Wooers. But his dinner done,

And stomach fed to satisfactión,

He drunk a full bowl, all of only wine,

And gave it to the guardian of his swine,

Who took it, and rejoic'd; to whom he said:

"O friend, who is it that, so rich, hath paid

Price for thy service, whose commended pow'r,

Thou sayst, to grace the Grecian conquerour,

At Ilion perish'd? Tell me. It may fall

I knew some such. The great God knows, and all

The other deathless Godheads, if I can,

Far having travell'd, tell of such a man."

Eumæus answer'd: "Father, never one,

Of all the strangers that have touch'd upon

This coast, with his life's news could ever yet

Of queen, or lov'd son, any credit get.

These travellers, for clothes, or for a meal,

At all adventures, any lie will tell.

Nor do they trade for truth. Not any man

That saw the people Ithacensian,

Of all their sort, and had the queen's supplies,

Did ever tell her any news, but lies.

τοῦ δʼ ἤδη μέλλουσι κύνες ταχέες τʼ οἰωνοὶ

She graciously receives them yet, inquires

ῥινὸν ἀπʼ ὀστεόφιν ἐρύσαι, ψυχὴ δὲ λέλοιπεν·

Of all she can, and all in tears expires.

ἢ τόν γʼ ἐν πόντῳ φάγον ἰχθύες, ὀστέα δʼ αὐτοῦ

It is th' accustom'd law, that women keep,

κεῖται ἐπʼ ἠπείρου ψαμάθῳ εἰλυμένα πολλῇ.

Their husbands elsewhere dead, at home to weep.

ὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθʼ ἀπόλωλε, φίλοισι δὲ κήδεʼ ὀπίσσω

But do thou quickly, father, forge a tale,

πᾶσιν, ἐμοὶ δὲ μάλιστα, τετεύχαται· οὐ γὰρ ἔτʼ ἄλλον

Some coat, or cloak, to keep thee warm withal,

ἤπιον ὧδε ἄνακτα κιχήσομαι, ὁππόσʼ ἐπέλθω,

Perhaps some one may yield thee; but for him,

οὐδʼ εἴ κεν πατρὸς καὶ μητέρος αὖτις ἵκωμαι

Vultures and dogs have torn from ev'ry limb

οἶκον, ὅθι πρῶτον γενόμην καί μʼ ἔτρεφον αὐτοί.

His porous skin, and forth his soul is fled,

οὐδέ νυ τῶν ἔτι τόσσον ὀδύρομαι, ἱέμενός περ

His corse at sea to fishes forfeited,

ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἰδέσθαι ἐὼν ἐν πατρίδι γαίῃ·

Or on the shore lies hid in heaps of sand,

ἀλλά μʼ Ὀδυσσῆος πόθος αἴνυται οἰχομένοιο.

And there hath he his ebb, his native strand

τὸν μὲν ἐγών, ὦ ξεῖνε, καὶ οὐ παρεόντʼ ὀνομάζειν

With friends' tears flowing. But to me past all

αἰδέομαι· πέρι γάρ μʼ ἐφίλει καὶ κήδετο θυμῷ·

Were tears created, for I never shall

ἀλλά μιν ἠθεῖον καλέω καὶ νόσφιν ἐόντα.

Find so humane a royal master more,

τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·

Whatever sea I seek, whatever shore.

ὦ φίλʼ, ἐπειδὴ πάμπαν ἀναίνεαι, οὐδʼ ἔτι φῇσθα

Nay, to my father, or my mother's love

κεῖνον ἐλεύσεσθαι, θυμὸς δέ τοι αἰὲν ἄπιστος·

Should I return, by whom I breathe and move,

ἀλλʼ ἐγὼ οὐκ αὔτως μυθήσομαι, ἀλλὰ σὺν ὅρκῳ,

Could I so much joy offer; nor these eyes

ὡς νεῖται Ὀδυσεύς· εὐαγγέλιον δέ μοι ἔστω

(Though my desires sustain extremities

αὐτίκʼ, ἐπεί κεν κεῖνος ἰὼν τὰ ἃ δώμαθʼ ἵκηται·

For their sad absence) would so fain be blest

ἕσσαι με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε, εἵματα καλά·

With sight of their lives, in my native nest,

πρὶν δέ κε, καὶ μάλα περ κεχρημένος, οὔ τι δεχοίμην.

As with Ulysses dead; in whose last rest,

ἐχθρὸς γάρ μοι κεῖνος ὁμῶς Ἀΐδαο πύλῃσι

O friend, my soul shall love him. He's not here

γίγνεται, ὃς πενίῃ εἴκων ἀπατήλια βάζει.

Nor do I name him like a flatterer,

ἴστω νῦν Ζεὺς πρῶτα θεῶν, ξενίη τε τράπεζα,

But as one thankful for his love and care

ἱστίη τʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἀμύμονος, ἣν ἀφικάνω·

To me a poor man; in the rich so rare.

ἦ μέν τοι τάδε πάντα τελείεται ὡς ἀγορεύω.

And be he past all shores where sun can shine,

τοῦδʼ αὐτοῦ λυκάβαντος ἐλεύσεται ἐνθάδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.

I will invoke him as a soul divine."

τοῦ μὲν φθίνοντος μηνός, τοῦ δʼ ἱσταμένοιο,

"O friend," said he, "to say, and to believe,

οἴκαδε νοστήσει, καὶ τίσεται ὅς τις ἐκείνου

He cannot live, doth too much licence give

ἐνθάδʼ ἀτιμάζει ἄλοχον καὶ φαίδιμον υἱόν.

To incredulity; for, not to speak

τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·

At needy randon, but my breath to break

ὦ γέρον, οὔτʼ ἄρʼ ἐγὼν εὐαγγέλιον τόδε τίσω,

In sacred oath, Ulysses shall return.

οὔτʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἔτι οἶκον ἐλεύσεται· ἀλλὰ ἕκηλος

And when his sight recomforts those that mourn

πῖνε, καὶ ἄλλα παρὲξ μεμνώμεθα, μηδέ με τούτων

In his own roofs, then give me cloak, and coat,

μίμνησκʼ· ἦ γὰρ θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐμοῖσιν

And garments worthy of a man of note.

ἄχνυται, ὁππότε τις μνήσῃ κεδνοῖο ἄνακτος.

Before which, though need urg'd me never so,

ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι ὅρκον μὲν ἐάσομεν, αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς

I'll not receive a thread, but naked go.

ἔλθοι ὅπως μιν ἐγώ γʼ ἐθέλω καὶ Πηνελόπεια

No less I hate him than the gates of hell,

Λαέρτης θʼ ὁ γέρων καὶ Τηλέμαχος θεοειδής.

That poorness can force an untruth to tell.

νῦν αὖ παιδὸς ἄλαστον ὀδύρομαι, ὃν τέκʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,

Let Jove then (Heav'n's chief God) just witness bear,

Τηλεμάχου· τὸν ἐπεὶ θρέψαν θεοὶ ἔρνεϊ ἶσον,

And this thy hospitable table here,

καί μιν ἔφην ἔσσεσθαι ἐν ἀνδράσιν οὔ τι χέρηα

Together with unblam'd Ulysses' house,

πατρὸς ἑοῖο φίλοιο, δέμας καὶ εἶδος ἀγητόν,

In which I find receipt so gracious,

τὸν δέ τις ἀθανάτων βλάψε φρένας ἔνδον ἐΐσας

What I affirm'd of him shall all be true.

ἠέ τις ἀνθρώπων· ὁ δʼ ἔβη μετὰ πατρὸς ἀκουὴν

This instant year thine eyes ev'n here shall view

ἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην· τὸν δὲ μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοὶ

Thy lord Ulysses. Nay, ere this month's end,

οἴκαδʼ ἰόντα λοχῶσιν, ὅπως ἀπὸ φῦλον ὄληται

Return'd full-home, he shall revenge extend

νώνυμον ἐξ Ἰθάκης Ἀρκεισίου ἀντιθέοιο.

To ev'ry one, whose ever deed hath done

ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι κεῖνον μὲν ἐάσομεν, ἤ κεν ἁλώῃ

Wrong to his wife and his illustrious son."

ἦ κε φύγῃ καί κέν οἱ ὑπέρσχῃ χεῖρα Κρονίων.

"O father," he replied, "I'll neither give

ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι σύ, γεραιέ, τὰ σʼ αὐτοῦ κήδεʼ ἐνίσπες

Thy news reward, nor doth Ulysses live.

καί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐῢ εἰδῶ·

But come, enough of this, let's drink and eat,

τίς πόθεν εἶς ἀνδρῶν; πόθι τοι πόλις ἠδὲ τοκῆες;

And never more his memory repeat.

ὁπποίης τʼ ἐπὶ νηὸς ἀφίκεο· πῶς δέ σε ναῦται

It grieves my heart to be remember'd thus

ἤγαγον εἰς Ἰθάκην; τίνες ἔμμεναι εὐχετόωντο;

By anyone of one so glorious.

οὐ μὲν γάρ τί σε πεζὸν ὀΐομαι ἐνθάδʼ ἱκέσθαι.

But stand your oath in your assertion strong,

τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς

And let Ulysses come, for whom I long,

τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι ταῦτα μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.

For whom his wife, for whom his agéd sire,

εἴη μὲν νῦν νῶϊν ἐπὶ χρόνον ἠμὲν ἐδωδὴ

For whom his son consumes his god-like fire,

ἠδὲ μέθυ γλυκερὸν κλισίης ἔντοσθεν ἐοῦσι,

Whose chance I now must mourn, and ever shall.

δαίνυσθαι ἀκέοντʼ, ἄλλοι δʼ ἐπὶ ἔργον ἕποιεν·

Whom when the Gods had brought to be as tall

ῥηϊδίως κεν ἔπειτα καὶ εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν ἅπαντα

As any upright plant, and I had said,

οὔ τι διαπρήξαιμι λέγων ἐμὰ κήδεα θυμοῦ,

He would amongst a court of men have sway'd

ὅσσα γε δὴ ξύμπαντα θεῶν ἰότητι μόγησα.

In counsels, and for form have been admir'd

Ev'n with his father, some God misinspir'd,

Or man took from him his own equal mind,

And pass'd him for the Pylian shore to find

His long-lost father. In return from whence,

The Wooers' pride way-lays his innocence,

That of divine Arcesius all the race

May fade to Ithaca, and not the grace

Of any name left to it. But leave we

His state, however, if surpris'd he be,

Or if he scape. And may Saturnius' hand

Protect him safely to his native land.

Do thou then, father, show your griefs, and cause

Of your arrival here; nor break the laws

That truth prescribes you, but relate your name,

And of what race you are, your father's fame,

And native city's; ship and men unfold,

That to this isle convey'd you, since I hold

Your here arrival was not all by shore,

Nor that your feet your agéd person bore."

He answer'd him: "I'll tell all strictly true,

If time, and food, and wine enough, accrue

Within your roof to us, that freely we

May sit and banquet. Let your business be

Discharg'd by others; for, when all is done,

I cannot easily, while the year doth run

His circle round, run over all the woes,

Beneath which, by the course the Gods dispose,

My sad age labours. First, I'll tell you then,

From ample Crete I fetch my native strain;

ἐκ μὲν Κρητάων γένος εὔχομαι εὐρειάων,

My father wealthy, whose house many a life

ἀνέρος ἀφνειοῖο πάϊς· πολλοὶ δὲ καὶ ἄλλοι

Brought forth and bred besides by his true wife,

υἱέες ἐν μεγάρῳ ἠμὲν τράφεν ἠδʼ ἐγένοντο

But me a bond-maid bore, his concubine.

γνήσιοι ἐξ ἀλόχου· ἐμὲ δʼ ὠνητὴ τέκε μήτηρ

Yet tender'd was I as his lawful line

παλλακίς, ἀλλά με ἶσον ἰθαιγενέεσσιν ἐτίμα

By him of whose race I my life profess.

Κάστωρ Ὑλακίδης, τοῦ ἐγὼ γένος εὔχομαι εἶναι

Castor his name, surnam'd Hylacides.

ὃς τότʼ ἐνὶ Κρήτεσσι θεὸς ὣς τίετο δήμῳ

A man, in fore-times, by the Cretan state,

ὄλβῳ τε πλούτῳ τε καὶ υἱάσι κυδαλίμοισιν.

For goods, good children, and his fortunate

ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι τὸν κῆρες ἔβαν θανάτοιο φέρουσαι

Success in all acts, of no mean esteem.

εἰς Ἀΐδαο δόμους· τοὶ δὲ ζωὴν ἐδάσαντο

But death-conferring Fates have banish'd him

παῖδες ὑπέρθυμοι καὶ ἐπὶ κλήρους ἐβάλοντο,

To Pluto's kingdom. After whom, his sons

αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ μάλα παῦρα δόσαν καὶ οἰκίʼ ἔνειμαν.

By lots divided his possessions,

ἠγαγόμην δὲ γυναῖκα πολυκλήρων ἀνθρώπων

And gave me passing little; yet bestow'd

εἵνεκʼ ἐμῆς ἀρετῆς, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἀποφώλιος ἦα

A house on me, to which my virtues woo'd

οὐδὲ φυγοπτόλεμος· νῦν δʼ ἤδη πάντα λέλοιπεν

A wife from rich men's roofs; nor was borne low,

ἀλλʼ ἔμπης καλάμην γέ σʼ ὀΐομαι εἰσορόωντα

Nor last in fight, though all nerves fail me now.

γιγνώσκειν· ἦ γάρ με δύη ἔχει ἤλιθα πολλή.

But I suppose, that you, by thus much seen,

ἦ μὲν δὴ θάρσος μοι Ἄρης τʼ ἔδοσαν καὶ Ἀθήνη

Know by the stubble what the corn hath been.

καὶ ῥηξηνορίην· ὁπότε κρίνοιμι λόχονδε

For, past all doubt, affliction past all mean

ἄνδρας ἀριστῆας, κακὰ δυσμενέεσσι φυτεύων,

Hath brought my age on; but, in seasons past,

οὔ ποτέ μοι θάνατον προτιόσσετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ,

Both Mars and Pallas have with boldness grac'd,

ἀλλὰ πολὺ πρώτιστος ἐπάλμενος ἔγχει ἕλεσκον

And fortitude, my fortunes, when I chus'd

ἀνδρῶν δυσμενέων ὅ τέ μοι εἴξειε πόδεσσιν.

Choice men for ambush, prest to have produc'd

τοῖος ἔα ἐν πολέμῳ· ἔργον δέ μοι οὐ φίλον ἔσκεν

Ill to mine enemies; my too vent'rous spirit

οὐδʼ οἰκωφελίη, ἥ τε τρέφει ἀγλαὰ τέκνα,

Set never death before mine eyes, for merit,

ἀλλά μοι αἰεὶ νῆες ἐπήρετμοι φίλαι ἦσαν

But, far the first advanc'd still, still I strook

καὶ πόλεμοι καὶ ἄκοντες ἐΰξεστοι καὶ ὀϊστοί,

Dead with my lance whoever overtook

λυγρά, τά τʼ ἄλλοισίν γε καταριγηλὰ πέλονται.

My speed of foot. Such was I then for war.

αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ τὰ φίλʼ ἔσκε τά που θεὸς ἐν φρεσὶ θῆκεν·

But rustic actions ever fled me far,

ἄλλος γάρ τʼ ἄλλοισιν ἀνὴρ ἐπιτέρπεται ἔργοις.

And household thrift, which breeds a famous race.

πρὶν μὲν γὰρ Τροίης ἐπιβήμεναι υἷας Ἀχαιῶν

In oar-driv'n ships did I my pleasures place,

εἰνάκις ἀνδράσιν ἦρξα καὶ ὠκυπόροισι νέεσσιν

In battles, light darts, arrows. Sad things all,

ἄνδρας ἐς ἀλλοδαπούς, καί μοι μάλα τύγχανε πολλά.

And into others' thoughts with horror fall.

τῶν ἐξαιρεύμην μενοεικέα, πολλὰ δʼ ὀπίσσω

But what God put into my mind, to me

λάγχανον· αἶψα δὲ οἶκος ὀφέλλετο, καί ῥα ἔπειτα

I still esteem'd as my felicity.

δεινός τʼ αἰδοῖός τε μετὰ Κρήτεσσι τετύγμην.

As men of sev'ral metals are address'd,

ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τήν γε στυγερὴν ὁδὸν εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς

So sev'ral forms are in their souls impress'd.

ἐφράσαθʼ, ἣ πολλῶν ἀνδρῶν ὑπὸ γούνατʼ ἔλυσε,

Before the sons of Greece set foot in Troy,

δὴ τότʼ ἔμʼ ἤνωγον καὶ ἀγακλυτὸν Ἰδομενῆα

Nine times, in chief, I did command enjoy

νήεσσʼ ἡγήσασθαι ἐς Ἴλιον· οὐδέ τι μῆχος

Of men and ships against our foreign foe,

ἦεν ἀνήνασθαι, χαλεπὴ δʼ ἔχε δήμου φῆμις.

And all I fitly wish'd succeeded so.

ἔνθα μὲν εἰνάετες πολεμίζομεν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,

Yet, after this, I much exploit achiev'd,

τῷ δεκάτῳ δὲ πόλιν Πριάμου πέρσαντες ἔβημεν

When straight my house in all possessions thriv'd.

οἴκαδε σὺν νήεσσι, θεὸς δʼ ἐκέδασσεν Ἀχαιούς.

Yet, after that, I great and rev'rend grew

αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ δειλῷ κακὰ μήδετο μητίετα Ζεύς·

Amongst the Cretans, till the Thund'rer drew

μῆνα γὰρ οἶον ἔμεινα τεταρπόμενος τεκέεσσιν

Our forces out in his foe-Troy decrees;

κουριδίῃ τʼ ἀλόχῳ καὶ κτήμασιν· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα

A hateful service that dissolv'd the knees

Αἴγυπτόνδε με θυμὸς ἀνώγει ναυτίλλεσθαι,

Of many a soldier. And to this was I,

νῆας ἐῢ στείλαντα σὺν ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισιν.

And famous Idomen, enjoin'd t' apply

ἐννέα νῆας στεῖλα, θοῶς δʼ ἐσαγείρατο λαός.

Our ships and pow'rs, Nor was there to be heard

ἑξῆμαρ μὲν ἔπειτα ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι

One reason for denial, so preferr'd

δαίνυντʼ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἱερήϊα πολλὰ παρεῖχον

Was the unreasonable people's rumour.

θεοῖσίν τε ῥέζειν αὐτοῖσί τε δαῖτα πένεσθαι.

Nine years we therefore fed the martial humour,

ἑβδομάτῃ δʼ ἀναβάντες ἀπὸ Κρήτης εὐρείης

And in the tenth, de-peopling Priam's town,

ἐπλέομεν Βορέῃ ἀνέμῳ ἀκραέϊ καλῷ

We sail'd for home. But God had quickly blown

ῥηϊδίως, ὡς εἴ τε κατὰ ῥόον· οὐδέ τις οὖν μοι

Our fleet in pieces; and to wretched me

νηῶν πημάνθη, ἀλλʼ ἀσκηθέες καὶ ἄνουσοι

The counsellor Jove did much mishap decree,

ἥμεθα, τὰς δʼ ἄνεμός τε κυβερνῆταί τʼ ἴθυνον.

For, only one month, I had leave t' enjoy

πεμπταῖοι δʼ Αἴγυπτον ἐϋρρείτην ἱκόμεσθα,

My wife and children, and my goods t' employ.

στῆσα δʼ ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ ποταμῷ νέας ἀμφιελίσσας.

But, after this, my mind for Ægypt stood,

ἔνθʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼ κελόμην ἐρίηρας ἑταίρους

When nine fair ships I rigg'd forth for the flood,

αὐτοῦ πὰρ νήεσσι μένειν καὶ νῆας ἔρυσθαι,

Mann'd them with noble soldiers, all things fit

ὀπτῆρας δὲ κατὰ σκοπιὰς ὤτρυνα νέεσθαι·

For such a voyage soon were won to it.

οἱ δʼ ὕβρει εἴξαντες, ἐπισπόμενοι μένεϊ σφῷ,

Yet six days after stay'd my friends in feast,

αἶψα μάλʼ Αἰγυπτίων ἀνδρῶν περικαλλέας ἀγροὺς

While I in banquets to the Gods addrest

πόρθεον, ἐκ δὲ γυναῖκας ἄγον καὶ νήπια τέκνα,

Much sacred matter for their sacrifice.

αὐτούς τʼ ἔκτεινον· τάχα δʼ ἐς πόλιν ἵκετʼ ἀϋτή.

The seventh, we boarded; and the Northern skies

Lent us a frank and passing prosp'rous gale,

'Fore which we bore us free and easy sail

As we had back'd a full and frolic tide;

Nor felt one ship misfortune for her pride,

But safe we sat, our sailors and the wind

Consenting in our convoy. When heav'n shin'd

In sacred radiance of the fifth fair day,

To sweetly-water'd Egypt reach'd our way,

And there we anchor'd; where I charg'd my men

To stay aboard, and watch. Dismissing then

Some scouts to get the hill-tops, and discover,

They (to their own intemperance giv'n over).

Straight fell to forage the rich fields, and thence

Enforce both wives and infants, with th' expence

Of both their bloods. When straight the rumour flew

Up to the city. Which heard, up they drew

By day's First break, and all the field was fill'd

With foot and horse, whose arms did all things gild.

And then the lightning-loving Deity cast

A foul flight on my soldiers; nor stood fast

One man of all. About whom mischief stood,

And with his stern steel drew in streams the blood

The greater part fed in their dissolute veins;

The rest were sav'd, and made enthralléd swains

To all the basest usages there bred.

And then, ev'n Jove himself supplied my head

With saving counsel; though I wish'd to die,

And there in Egypt with their slaughters lie,

So much grief seiz'd me, but Jove made me yield,

οἱ δὲ βοῆς ἀΐοντες ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφιν

Dishelm my head, take from my neck my shield,

ἦλθον· πλῆτο δὲ πᾶν πεδίον πεζῶν τε καὶ ἵππων

Hurl from my hand my lance, and to the troop

χαλκοῦ τε στεροπῆς· ἐν δὲ Ζεὺς τερπικέραυνος

Of horse the king led instantly made up,

φύζαν ἐμοῖς ἑτάροισι κακὴν βάλεν, οὐδέ τις ἔτλη

Embrace, and kiss his knees; whom pity won

μεῖναι ἐναντίβιον· περὶ γὰρ κακὰ πάντοθεν ἔστη.

To give me safety, and (to make me shun

ἔνθʼ ἡμέων πολλοὺς μὲν ἀπέκτανον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,

The people's outrage, that made in amain,

τοὺς δʼ ἄναγον ζωούς, σφίσιν ἐργάζεσθαι ἀνάγκῃ.

All jointly fir'd with thirst to see me slain)

αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ Ζεὺς αὐτὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ὧδε νόημα

He took me to his chariot, weeping, home,

ποίησʼ—ὡς ὄφελον θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν

Himself with fear of Jove's wrath overcome,

αὐτοῦ ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ· ἔτι γάρ νύ με πῆμʼ ὑπέδεκτο—

Who yielding souls receives, and takes most ill

αὐτίκʼ ἀπὸ κρατὸς κυνέην εὔτυκτον ἔθηκα

All such as well may save yet love to kill.

καὶ σάκος ὤμοιϊν, δόρυ δʼ ἔκβαλον ἔκτοσε χειρός·

Seven years I sojourn'd here, and treasure gat

αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ βασιλῆος ἐναντίον ἤλυθον ἵππων

In good abundance of th' Ægyptian state,

καὶ κύσα γούναθʼ ἑλών· ὁδʼ ἐρύσατο καί μʼ ἐλέησεν,

For all would give; but when th' eighth year began,

ἐς δίφρον δέ μʼ ἕσας ἄγεν οἴκαδε δάκρυ χέοντα.

A knowing fellow (that would gnaw a man

ἦ μέν μοι μάλα πολλοὶ ἐπήϊσσον μελίῃσιν,

Like to a vermin, with his hellish brain,

ἱέμενοι κτεῖναι—δὴ γὰρ κεχολώατο λίην—

And many an honest soul ev'n quick had slain,

ἀλλʼ ἀπὸ κεῖνος ἔρυκε, Διὸς δʼ ὠπίζετο μῆνιν

Whose name was Phœnix) close accosted me,

ξεινίου, ὅς τε μάλιστα νεμεσσᾶται κακὰ ἔργα.

And with insinuations, such as he

ἔνθα μὲν ἑπτάετες μένον αὐτόθι, πολλὰ δʼ ἄγειρα

Practis'd on others, my consent he gain'd

χρήματʼ ἀνʼ Αἰγυπτίους ἄνδρας· δίδοσαν γὰρ ἅπαντες.

To go into Phœnicia, where remain'd

ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ὄγδοόν μοι ἐπιπλόμενον ἔτος ἦλθεν,

His house, and living. And with him I liv'd

δὴ τότε Φοῖνιξ ἦλθεν ἀνὴρ ἀπατήλια εἰδώς,

A cómplete year; but when were all arriv'd

τρώκτης, ὃς δὴ πολλὰ κάκʼ ἀνθρώποισιν ἐώργει·

The months and days, and that the year again

ὅς μʼ ἄγε παρπεπιθὼν ᾗσι φρεσίν, ὄφρʼ ἱκόμεσθα

Was turning round, and ev'ry season's reign

Φοινίκην, ὅθι τοῦ γε δόμοι καὶ κτήματʼ ἔκειτο.

Renew'd upon us, we for Libya went,

ἔνθα παρʼ αὐτῷ μεῖνα τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτόν.

When, still inventing crafts to circumvent,

ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ μῆνές τε καὶ ἡμέραι ἐξετελεῦντο

He made pretext, that I should only go

ἄψ περιτελλομένου ἔτεος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,

And help convey his freight; but thought not so,

ἐς Λιβύην μʼ ἐπὶ νηὸς ἐέσσατο ποντοπόροιο

For his intent was to have sold me there,

ψεύδεα βουλεύσας, ἵνα οἱ σὺν φόρτον ἄγοιμι,

And made good gain for finding me a year.

κεῖθι δέ μʼ ὡς περάσειε καὶ ἄσπετον ὦνον ἕλοιτο.

Yet him I follow'd, though suspecting this,

τῷ ἑπόμην ἐπὶ νηός, ὀϊόμενός περ, ἀνάγκῃ.

For, being aboard his ship, I must be his

ἡ δʼ ἔθεεν Βορέῃ ἀνέμῳ ἀκραέϊ καλῷ,

Of strong necessity. She ran the flood

μέσσον ὑπὲρ Κρήτης· Ζεὺς δέ σφισι μήδετʼ ὄλεθρον.

(Driven with a northern gale, right free, and good)

ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ Κρήτην μὲν ἐλείπομεν, οὐδέ τις ἄλλη

Amids the full stream, full on Crete. But then

φαίνετο γαιάων, ἀλλʼ οὐρανὸς ἠδὲ θάλασσα,

Jove plotted death to him and all his men,

δὴ τότε κυανέην νεφέλην ἔστησε Κρονίων

For (put off quite from Crete, and so far gone

νηὸς ὕπερ γλαφυρῆς, ἤχλυσε δὲ πόντος ὑπʼ αὐτῆς.

That shore was lost, and we set eye on none,

Ζεὺς δʼ ἄμυδις βρόντησε καὶ ἔμβαλε νηῒ κεραυνόν·

But all show'd heav'n and sea) above our keel

ἡ δʼ ἐλελίχθη πᾶσα Διὸς πληγεῖσα κεραυνῷ,

Jove pointed right a cloud as black as hell,

ἐν δὲ θεείου πλῆτο· πέσον δʼ ἐκ νηὸς ἅπαντες.

Beneath which all the sea hid, and from whence

οἱ δὲ κορώνῃσιν ἴκελοι περὶ νῆα μέλαιναν

Jove thunder'd as his hand would never thence,

κύμασιν ἐμφορέοντο· θεὸς δʼ ἀποαίνυτο νόστον.

And thick into our ship he threw his flash;

αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ Ζεὺς αὐτός, ἔχοντί περ ἄλγεα θυμῷ,

That 'gainst a rock, or flat, her keel did dash

ἱστὸν ἀμαιμάκετον νηὸς κυανοπρῴροιο

With headlong rapture. Of the sulphur all

ἐν χείρεσσιν ἔθηκεν, ὅπως ἔτι πῆμα φύγοιμι.

Her bulk did savour; and her men let fall

τῷ ῥα περιπλεχθεὶς φερόμην ὀλοοῖς ἀνέμοισιν.

Amids the surges, on which all lay tost,

ἐννῆμαρ φερόμην, δεκάτῃ δέ με νυκτὶ μελαίνῃ

Like sea-gulls, round about her sides, and lost.

γαίῃ Θεσπρωτῶν πέλασεν μέγα κῦμα κυλίνδον.

And so God took all home-return from them.

ἔνθα με Θεσπρωτῶν βασιλεὺς ἐκομίσσατο Φείδων

But Jove himself, though plung'd in that extreme,

ἥρως ἀπριάτην· τοῦ γὰρ φίλος υἱὸς ἐπελθὼν

Recover'd me by thrusting on my hand

αἴθρῳ καὶ καμάτῳ δεδμημένον ἦγεν ἐς οἶκον,

The ship's long mast. And, that my life might stand

χειρὸς ἀναστήσας, ὄφρʼ ἵκετο δώματα πατρός·

A little more up, I embrac'd it round;

ἀμφὶ δέ με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα ἕσσεν.

And on the rude winds, that did ruins sound,

ἔνθʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐγὼ πυθόμην· κεῖνος γὰρ ἔφασκε

Nine days we hover'd. In the tenth black night

ξεινίσαι ἠδὲ φιλῆσαι ἰόντʼ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,

A huge sea cast me on Thesprotia's height,

καί μοι κτήματʼ ἔδειξεν ὅσα ξυναγείρατʼ Ὀδυσσεύς,

Where the heroë Phidon, that was chief

χαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε πολύκμητόν τε σίδηρον.

Of all the Thesprots, gave my wrack relief,

καί νύ ἐς δεκάτην γενεὴν ἕτερόν γʼ ἔτι βόσκοι·

Without the price of that redemptión

τόσσα οἱ ἐν μεγάροις κειμήλια κεῖτο ἄνακτος.

That Phœnix fish'd for. Where the king's lov'd son

τὸν δʼ ἐς Δωδώνην φάτο βήμεναι, ὄφρα θεοῖο

Came to me, took me by the hand, and led

ἐκ δρυὸς ὑψικόμοιο Διὸς βουλὴν ἐπακούσαι,

Into his court my poor life, surfeited

ὅππως νοστήσειʼ Ἰθάκης ἐς πίονα δῆμον

With cold and labour; and because my wrack

ἤδη δὴν ἀπεών, ἢ ἀμφαδὸν ἦε κρυφηδόν.

Chanc'd on his father's shore, he let not lack

ὤμοσε δὲ πρὸς ἔμʼ αὐτόν, ἀποσπένδων ἐνὶ οἴκῳ,

My plight or coat, or cloak, or anything

νῆα κατειρύσθαι καὶ ἐπαρτέας ἔμμεν ἑταίρους,

Might cherish heat in me. And here the king

Said, he receiv'd Ulysses as his guest,

Observ'd him friend-like, and his course addrest

Home to his country, showing there to me

Ulysses' goods, a very treasury

Of brass, and gold, and steel of curious frame.

And to the tenth succession of his name

He laid up wealth enough, to serve beside

In that king's house, so hugely amplified

His treasure was. But from his court the king

Affirm'd him shipp'd for the Dodonean spring,

To hear, from out the high-hair'd oak of Jove,

Counsel from him for means to his remove

To his lov'd country, whence so many a year

He had been absent; if he should appear

Disguis'd, or manifest; and further swore

In his mid court, at sacrifice, before

These very eyes, that he had ready there

Both ship and soldiers, to attend and bear

Him to his country. But, before, it chanc'd

That a Thesprotian ship was to be launch'd

For the much-corn-renown'd Dulichian land,

In which the king gave to his men command

To take, and bring me under tender hand

To king Acastus. But, in ill design

Of my poor life, did their desires combine,

So far forth, as might ever keep me under

In fortune's hands, and tear my state in sunder.

And when the water-treader far away

οἳ δή μιν πέμψουσι φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.

Had left the land, then plotted they the day

ἀλλʼ ἐμὲ πρὶν ἀπέπεμψε· τύχησε γὰρ ἐρχομένη νηῦς

Of my long servitude, and took from me

ἀνδρῶν Θεσπρωτῶν ἐς Δουλίχιον πολύπυρον.

Both coat and cloak, and all things that might be

ἔνθʼ ὅ γέ μʼ ἠνώγει πέμψαι βασιλῆϊ Ἀκάστῳ

Grace in my habit, and in place put on

ἐνδυκέως· τοῖσιν δὲ κακὴ φρεσὶν ἥνδανε βουλὴ

These tatter'd rags, which now you see upon

ἀμφʼ ἐμοί, ὄφρʼ ἔτι πάγχυ δύης ἐπὶ πῆμα γενοίμην.

My wretched bosom. When heav'n's light took sea,

ἀλλʼ ὅτε γαίης πολλὸν ἀπέπλω ποντοπόρος νηῦς,

They fetch'd the field-works of fair Ithaca,

αὐτίκα δούλιον ἦμαρ ἐμοὶ περιμηχανόωντο.

And in the arm'd ship, with a well-wreath'd cord,

ἐκ μέν με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματʼ ἔδυσαν,

They straitly bound me, and did all disboard

ἀμφὶ δέ μοι ῥάκος ἄλλο κακὸν βάλον ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,

To shore to supper, in contentious rout.

ῥωγαλέα, τὰ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὅρηαι·

Yet straight the Gods themselves took from about

ἑσπέριοι δʼ Ἰθάκης εὐδειέλου ἔργʼ ἀφίκοντο.

My pressed limbs the bands, with equal ease,

ἔνθʼ ἐμὲ μὲν κατέδησαν ἐϋσσέλμῳ ἐνὶ νηῒ

And I, my head in rags wrapp'd, took the seas,

ὅπλῳ ἐϋστρεφέϊ στερεῶς, αὐτοὶ δʼ ἀποβάντες

Descending by the smooth stern, using then

ἐσσυμένως παρὰ θῖνα θαλάσσης δόρπον ἕλοντο.

My hands for oars, and made from these bad men

αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ δεσμὸν μὲν ἀνέγναμψαν θεοὶ αὐτοὶ

Long way in little time. At last, I fetch'd

ῥηϊδίως· κεφαλῇ δὲ κατὰ ῥάκος ἀμφικαλύψας,

A goodly grove of oaks, whose shore I reach'd,

ξεστὸν ἐφόλκαιον καταβὰς ἐπέλασσα θαλάσσῃ

And cast me prostrate on it. When they knew

στῆθος, ἔπειτα δὲ χερσὶ διήρεσσʼ ἀμφοτέρῃσι

My thus-made 'scape, about the shores they flew,

νηχόμενος, μάλα δʼ ὦκα θύρηθʼ ἔα ἀμφὶς ἐκείνων.

But, soon not finding, held it not their best

ἔνθʼ ἀναβάς, ὅθι τε δρίος ἦν πολυανθέος ὕλης,

To seek me further, but return'd to rest

κείμην πεπτηώς. οἱ δὲ μεγάλα στενάχοντες

Aboard their vessel. Me the Gods lodg'd close,

φοίτων· ἀλλʼ οὐ γάρ σφιν ἐφαίνετο κέρδιον εἶναι

Conducting me into the safe repose

μαίεσθαι προτέρω, τοὶ μὲν πάλιν αὖτις ἔβαινον

A good man's stable yielded. And thus Fate

νηὸς ἔπι γλαφυρῆς· ἐμὲ δʼ ἔκρυψαν θεοὶ αὐτοὶ

This poor hour added to my living date."

ῥηϊδίως, καί με σταθμῷ ἐπέλασσαν ἄγοντες

"O wretch of guests," said he, "thy tale hath stirr'd

ἀνδρὸς ἐπισταμένου· ἔτι γάρ νύ μοι αἶσα βιῶναι.

My mind to much ruth, both how thou hast err'd,

τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα·

And suffer'd, hearing in such good parts shown.

ἆ δειλὲ ξείνων, ἦ μοι μάλα θυμὸν ὄρινας

But, what thy chang'd relation would make known

ταῦτα ἕκαστα λέγων, ὅσα δὴ πάθες ἠδʼ ὅσʼ ἀλήθης.

About Ulysses, I hold neither true,

ἀλλὰ τά γʼ οὐ κατὰ κόσμον ὀΐομαι, οὐδέ με πείσεις

Nor will believe. And what need'st thou pursue

εἰπὼν ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ· τί σε χρὴ τοῖον ἐόντα

A lie so rashly, since he sure is so

μαψιδίως ψεύδεσθαι; ἐγὼ δʼ εὖ οἶδα καὶ αὐτὸς

As I conceive, for which my skill shall go?

νόστον ἐμοῖο ἄνακτος, ὅ τʼ ἤχθετο πᾶσι θεοῖσι

The safe return my king lacks cannot be,

πάγχυ μάλʼ, ὅττι μιν οὔ τι μετὰ Τρώεσσι δάμασσαν

He is so envied of each Deity,

ἠὲ φίλων ἐν χερσίν, ἐπεὶ πόλεμον τολύπευσε.

So clear, so cruelly. For not in Troy

τῷ κέν οἱ τύμβον μὲν ἐποίησαν Παναχαιοί,

They gave him end, nor let his corpse enjoy

ἠδέ κε καὶ ᾧ παιδὶ μέγα κλέος ἤρατʼ ὀπίσσω

The hands of friends (which well they might have done,

νῦν δέ μιν ἀκλειῶς ἅρπυιαι ἀνηρείψαντο.

He manag'd arms to such perfection,

αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ παρʼ ὕεσσιν ἀπότροπος· οὐδὲ πόλινδε

And should have had his sepulchre, and all,

ἔρχομαι, εἰ μή πού τι περίφρων Πηνελόπεια

And all the Greeks to grace his funeral,

ἐλθέμεν ὀτρύνῃσιν, ὅτʼ ἀγγελίη ποθὲν ἔλθῃ.

And this had giv'n a glory to his son

ἀλλʼ οἱ μὲν τὰ ἕκαστα παρήμενοι ἐξερέουσιν,

Through all times future) but his head is run

ἠμὲν οἳ ἄχνυνται δὴν οἰχομένοιο ἄνακτος,

Unseen, unhonour'd, into Harpies' maws.

ἠδʼ οἳ χαίρουσιν βίοτον νήποινον ἔδοντες·

For my part, I'll not meddle with the cause,

ἀλλʼ ἐμοὶ οὐ φίλον ἐστὶ μεταλλῆσαι καὶ ἐρέσθαι,

I live a separate life amongst my swine,

ἐξ οὗ δή μʼ Αἰτωλὸς ἀνὴρ ἐξήπαφε μύθῳ,

Come at no town for any need of mine,

ὅς ῥʼ ἄνδρα κτείνας, πολλὴν ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἀληθείς,

Unless the circularly-witted queen

ἦλθεν ἐμὰ πρὸς δώματʼ· ἐγὼ δέ μιν ἀμφαγάπαζον.

(When any far-come guest is to be seen

φῆ δέ μιν ἐν Κρήτεσσι παρʼ Ἰδομενῆϊ ἰδέσθαι

That brings her news) commands me bring a brawn,

νῆας ἀκειόμενον, τάς οἱ ξυνέαξαν ἄελλαι·

About which (all things being in question drawn,

καὶ φάτʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι ἢ ἐς θέρος ἢ ἐς ὀπώρην,

That touch the king) they sit, and some are sad

πολλὰ χρήματʼ ἄγοντα, σὺν ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισι.

For his long absence, some again are glad

καὶ σύ, γέρον πολυπενθές, ἐπεί σέ μοι ἤγαγε δαίμων,

To waste his goods unwreak'd, all talking still.

μήτε τί μοι ψεύδεσσι χαρίζεο μήτε τι θέλγε·

But, as for me, I nourish'd little will

οὐ γὰρ τοὔνεκʼ ἐγώ σʼ αἰδέσσομαι οὐδὲ φιλήσω,

T' inquire or question of him, since the man

ἀλλὰ Δία ξένιον δείσας αὐτόν τʼ ἐλεαίρων.

That feign'd himself the fled Ætolian,

τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς

For slaught'ring one, through many regions stray'd,

ἦ μάλα τίς τοι θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἄπιστος,

In my stall, as his diversory, stay'd.

οἷόν σʼ οὐδʼ ὀμόσας περ ἐπήγαγον οὐδέ σε πείθω.

Where well entreating him, he told me then,

ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ῥήτρην ποιησόμεθʼ· αὐτὰρ ὄπισθε

Amongst the Cretans, with king Idomen,

μάρτυροι ἀμφοτέροισι θεοί, τοὶ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν.

He saw Ulysses at his ship's repair,

εἰ μέν κεν νοστήσῃ ἄναξ τεὸς ἐς τόδε δῶμα,

That had been brush'd with the enragéd air;

ἕσσας με χλαῖνάν τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματα πέμψαι

And that in summer, or in autumn, sure,

Δουλίχιόνδʼ ἰέναι, ὅθι μοι φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ·

With all his brave friends and rich furniture,

εἰ δέ κε μὴ ἔλθῃσιν ἄναξ τεὸς ὡς ἀγορεύω,

He would be here; and nothing so, nor so.

But thou, an old man, taught with so much woe

As thou hast suffer'd, to be season'd true,

And brought by his fate, do not here pursue

His gratulations with thy cunning lies,

Thou canst not soak so through my faculties

For I did never either honour thee

Or give thee love, to bring these tales to me,

But in my fear of hospitable Jove

Thou didst to this pass my affections move."

"You stand exceeding much incredulous,"

Replied Ulysses, "to have witness'd thus

My word and oath, yet yield no trust at all.

But make me now a covenant here, and call

The dreadful Gods to witness, that take seat

In large Olympus: If your king's retreat

Prove made, ev'n hither, you shall furnish me

With cloak, and coat, and make my passage free

For lov'd Dulichius; if, as fits my vow,

Your king return not, let your servants throw