Odyssey

The much-sustaining, patient, heav'nly man,

ὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθα καθεῦδε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς

Whom Toil and Sleep had worn so weak and wan,

ὕπνῳ καὶ καμάτῳ ἀρημένος· αὐτὰρ Ἀθήνη

Thus won his rest. In mean space Pallas went

βῆ ῥʼ ἐς Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν δῆμόν τε πόλιν τε,

To the Phæacian city, and descent

οἳ πρὶν μέν ποτʼ ἔναιον ἐν εὐρυχόρῳ Ὑπερείῃ,

That first did broad Hyperia's lands divide,

ἀγχοῦ Κυκλώπων ἀνδρῶν ὑπερηνορεόντων,

Near the vast Cyclops, men of monstrous pride,

οἵ σφεας σινέσκοντο, βίηφι δὲ φέρτεροι ἦσαν.

That prey'd on those Hyperians, since they were

ἔνθεν ἀναστήσας ἄγε Ναυσίθοος θεοειδής,

Of greater pow'r; and therefore longer there

εἷσεν δὲ Σχερίῃ, ἑκὰς ἀνδρῶν ἀλφηστάων,

Divine Nausithous dwelt not, but arose,

ἀμφὶ δὲ τεῖχος ἔλασσε πόλει, καὶ ἐδείματο οἴκους,

And did for Scheria all his pow'rs dispose;

καὶ νηοὺς ποίησε θεῶν, καὶ ἐδάσσατʼ ἀρούρας.

Far from ingenious art-inventing men

ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἤδη κηρὶ δαμεὶς Ἄϊδόσδε βεβήκει,

But there did he erect a city then,

Ἀλκίνοος δὲ τότʼ ἦρχε, θεῶν ἄπο μήδεα εἰδώς.

First drew a wall round, then he houses builds,

τοῦ μὲν ἔβη πρὸς δῶμα θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,

And then a temple to the Gods, the fields

νόστον Ὀδυσσῆι μεγαλήτορι μητιόωσα.

Lastly dividing. But he, stoop'd by Fate,

βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἐς θάλαμον πολυδαίδαλον, ᾧ ἔνι κούρη

Div'd to th' infernals; and Alcinous sate

κοιμᾶτʼ ἀθανάτῃσι φυὴν καὶ εἶδος ὁμοίη,

In his command, a man the Gods did teach

Ναυσικάα, θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο,

Commanding counsels. His house held the reach

πὰρ δὲ δύʼ ἀμφίπολοι, Χαρίτων ἄπο κάλλος ἔχουσαι,

Of grey Minerva's project, to provide

σταθμοῖιν ἑκάτερθε· θύραι δʼ ἐπέκειντο φαειναί.

That great-soul'd Ithacus might be supplied

ἡ δʼ ἀνέμου ὡς πνοιὴ ἐπέσσυτο δέμνια κούρης,

With all things fitting his return. She went

στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν,

Up to the chamber, where the fair descent

εἰδομένη κούρῃ ναυσικλειτοῖο Δύμαντος,

Of great Alcinous slept; a maid, whose parts

ἥ οἱ ὁμηλικίη μὲν ἔην, κεχάριστο δὲ θυμῷ.

In wit and beauty wore divine deserts.

τῇ μιν ἐεισαμένη προσέφη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·

Well-deck'd her chamber was; of which the door

Ναυσικάα, τί νύ σʼ ὧδε μεθήμονα γείνατο μήτηρ;

Did seem to lighten, such a gloss it bore

εἵματα μέν τοι κεῖται ἀκηδέα σιγαλόεντα,

Betwixt the posts, and now flew ope to find

σοὶ δὲ γάμος σχεδόν ἐστιν, ἵνα χρὴ καλὰ μὲν αὐτὴν

The Goddess entry. Like a puft of wind

ἕννυσθαι, τὰ δὲ τοῖσι παρασχεῖν, οἵ κέ σʼ ἄγωνται.

She reach'd the virgin bed; neat which there lay

ἐκ γάρ τοι τούτων φάτις ἀνθρώπους ἀναβαίνει

Two maids, to whom the Graces did convey

ἐσθλή, χαίρουσιν δὲ πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ.

Figure and manners. But above the head

ἀλλʼ ἴομεν πλυνέουσαι ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφι·

Of bright Nausicaa did Pallas tread

καί τοι ἐγὼ συνέριθος ἅμʼ ἕψομαι, ὄφρα τάχιστα

The subtle air, and put the person on

ἐντύνεαι, ἐπεὶ οὔ τοι ἔτι δὴν παρθένος ἔσσεαι·

Of Dymas' daughter, from comparison

ἤδη γάρ σε μνῶνται ἀριστῆες κατὰ δῆμον

Exempt in business naval. Like his seed

πάντων Φαιήκων, ὅθι τοι γένος ἐστὶ καὶ αὐτῇ.

Minerva look'd now; whom one year did breed

ἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ἐπότρυνον πατέρα κλυτὸν ἠῶθι πρὸ

With bright Nausicaa, and who had gain'd

ἡμιόνους καὶ ἄμαξαν ἐφοπλίσαι, ἥ κεν ἄγῃσι

Grace in her love, yet on her thus complain'd:

ζῶστρά τε καὶ πέπλους καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα.

"Nausicaa! Why bred thy mother one

καὶ δὲ σοὶ ὧδʼ αὐτῇ πολὺ κάλλιον ἠὲ πόδεσσιν

So negligent in rites so stood upon

ἔρχεσθαι· πολλὸν γὰρ ἀπὸ πλυνοί εἰσι πόληος.

By other virgins? Thy fair garments lie

ἡ μὲν ἄρʼ ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἀπέβη γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη

Neglected by thee, yet thy nuptials nigh;

When rich in all attire both thou shouldst be,

And garments give to others honouring thee,

That lead thee to the temple. Thy good name

Grows amongst men for these things; they inflame

Father and rev'rend mother with delight.

Come, when the Day takes any wink from Night,

Let's to the river, and repurify

Thy wedding garments. My society

Shall freely serve thee for thy speedier aid,

Because thou shalt no mote stand on the maid.

The best of all Phæacia woo thy grace,

Where thou wert bred, and ow'st thyself a race.

Up, and stir up to thee thy honour'd sire,

To give thee mules and coach, thee and thy tire,

Veils, girdles, mantles, early to the flood

To bear in state. It suits thy high-born blood,

And far more fits thee, than to foot so far,

For far from town thou know'st the bath-founts are."

This said, away blue-eyed Minerva went

Up to Olympus, the firm continent

That bears in endless being the Deified kind,

That's neither sous'd with show'rs, nor shook with wind,

Nor chill'd with snow, but where Serenity flies

Οὔλυμπόνδʼ, ὅθι φασὶ θεῶν ἕδος ἀσφαλὲς αἰεὶ

Exempt from clouds, and ever-beamy skies

ἔμμεναι. οὔτʼ ἀνέμοισι τινάσσεται οὔτε ποτʼ ὄμβρῳ

Circle the glitt'ring hill, and all their days

δεύεται οὔτε χιὼν ἐπιπίλναται, ἀλλὰ μάλʼ αἴθρη

Give the delights of blesséd Deity praise.

πέπταται ἀνέφελος, λευκὴ δʼ ἐπιδέδρομεν αἴγλη·

And hither Pallas flew, and left the maid,

τῷ ἔνι τέρπονται μάκαρες θεοὶ ἤματα πάντα.

When she had all that might excite her said.

ἔνθʼ ἀπέβη γλαυκῶπις, ἐπεὶ διεπέφραδε κούρῃ.

Straight rose the lovely Morn, that up did raise

αὐτίκα δʼ Ἠὼς ἦλθεν ἐύθρονος, ἥ μιν ἔγειρε

Fair-veil'd Nausicaa, whose dream her praise

Ναυσικάαν ἐύπεπλον· ἄφαρ δʼ ἀπεθαύμασʼ ὄνειρον,

To admiration took; who no time spent

βῆ δʼ ἰέναι διὰ δώμαθʼ, ἵνʼ ἀγγείλειε τοκεῦσιν,

To give the rapture of her vision vent

πατρὶ φίλῳ καὶ μητρί· κιχήσατο δʼ ἔνδον ἐόντας·

To her lov'd parents, whom she found within.

ἡ μὲν ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ ἧστο σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν

Her mother set at fire, who had to spin

ἠλάκατα στρωφῶσʼ ἁλιπόρφυρα· τῷ δὲ θύραζε

A rock, whose tincture with sea-purple shin'd;

ἐρχομένῳ ξύμβλητο μετὰ κλειτοὺς βασιλῆας

Her maids about her. But she chanc'd to find

ἐς βουλήν, ἵνα μιν κάλεον Φαίηκες ἀγαυοί.

Her father going abroad, to council call'd

ἡ δὲ μάλʼ ἄγχι στᾶσα φίλον πατέρα προσέειπε·

By his grave Senate. And to him exhal'd

πάππα φίλʼ, οὐκ ἂν δή μοι ἐφοπλίσσειας ἀπήνην

Her smother'd bosom was: "Lov'd sire," said she,

ὑψηλὴν ἐύκυκλον, ἵνα κλυτὰ εἵματʼ ἄγωμαι

"Will you not now command a coach for me,

ἐς ποταμὸν πλυνέουσα, τά μοι ῥερυπωμένα κεῖται;

Stately and cómplete, fit for me to bear

καὶ δὲ σοὶ αὐτῷ ἔοικε μετὰ πρώτοισιν ἐόντα

To wash at flood the weeds I cannot wear

βουλὰς βουλεύειν καθαρὰ χροΐ εἵματʼ ἔχοντα.

Before repurified? Yourself it fits

πέντε δέ τοι φίλοι υἷες ἐνὶ μεγάροις γεγάασιν,

To wear fair weeds, as ev'ry man that sits

οἱ δύʼ ὀπυίοντες, τρεῖς δʼ ἠίθεοι θαλέθοντες·

In place of council. And five sons you have,

οἱ δʼ αἰεὶ ἐθέλουσι νεόπλυτα εἵματʼ ἔχοντες

Two wed, three bachelors, that must be brave

ἐς χορὸν ἔρχεσθαι· τὰ δʼ ἐμῇ φρενὶ πάντα μέμηλεν.

In ev'ry day's shift, that they may go dance;

ὣς ἔφατʼ· αἴδετο γὰρ θαλερὸν γάμον ἐξονομῆναι

For these three last with these things must advance

πατρὶ φίλῳ. ὁ δὲ πάντα νόει καὶ ἀμείβετο μύθῳ·

Their states in marriage, and who else but I,

οὔτε τοι ἡμιόνων φθονέω, τέκος, οὔτε τευ ἄλλου.

Their sister, should their dancing rites supply?"

ἔρχευ· ἀτάρ τοι δμῶες ἐφοπλίσσουσιν ἀπήνην

This gen'ral cause she show'd, and would not name

ὑψηλὴν ἐύκυκλον, ὑπερτερίῃ ἀραρυῖαν.

Her mind of nuptials to her sire, for shame.

ὣς εἰπὼν δμώεσσιν ἐκέκλετο, τοὶ δʼ ἐπίθοντο.

He understood her yet, and thus replied:

οἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἐκτὸς ἄμαξαν ἐύτροχον ἡμιονείην

"Daughter! nor these, nor any grace beside,

ὥπλεον, ἡμιόνους θʼ ὕπαγον ζεῦξάν θʼ ὑπʼ ἀπήνῃ·

I either will deny thee, or defer,

κούρη δʼ ἐκ θαλάμοιο φέρεν ἐσθῆτα φαεινήν.

Mules, nor a coach, of state and circular,

καὶ τὴν μὲν κατέθηκεν ἐυξέστῳ ἐπʼ ἀπήνῃ,

Fitting at all parts. Go, my servants shall

μήτηρ δʼ ἐν κίστῃ ἐτίθει μενοεικέʼ ἐδωδὴν

Serves thy desires, and thy command in all."

παντοίην, ἐν δʼ ὄψα τίθει, ἐν δʼ οἶνον ἔχευεν

The servants then commanded soon obey'd,

ἀσκῷ ἐν αἰγείῳ· κούρη δʼ ἐπεβήσετʼ ἀπήνης.

Fetch'd coach, and mules join'd in it. Then the Maid

δῶκεν δὲ χρυσέῃ ἐν ληκύθῳ ὑγρὸν ἔλαιον,

Brought from the chamber her rich weeds, and laid

ἧος χυτλώσαιτο σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξίν.

All up in coach; in which her mother plac'd

ἡ δʼ ἔλαβεν μάστιγα καὶ ἡνία σιγαλόεντα,

A maund of victuals, varied well in taste,

μάστιξεν δʼ ἐλάαν· καναχὴ δʼ ἦν ἡμιόνοιιν.

And other junkets. Wine she likewise fill'd

Within a goat-skin bottle, and distill'd

Sweet and moist oil into a golden cruse,

Both for her daughter's, and her handmaid's, use,

To soften their bright bodies, when they rose

Cleans'd from their cold baths. Up to coach then goes

Th' observéd Maid, takes both the scourge and reins,

And to her side her handmaid straight attains.

Nor these alone, but other virgins, grac'd

The nuptial chariot. The whole bevy plac'd,

Nausicaa scourg'd to make the coach-mules run,

That neigh'd, and pac'd their usual speed, and soon

Both maids and weeds brought to the river-side,

Where baths for all the year their use supplied,

Whose waters were so pure they would not stain,

But still ran fair forth, and did more remain

Apt to purge stains, for that purg'd stain within,

Which by the water's pure store was not seen.

These, here arriv'd, the mules uncoach'd, and drave

Up to the gulfy river's shore, that gave

Sweet grass to them. The maids from coach then took

Their clothes, and steep'd them in the sable brook:

Then put them into springs, and trod them clean

With cleanly feet; adventuring wagers then

Who should have soonest and most cleanly done.

αἱ δʼ ἄμοτον τανύοντο, φέρον δʼ ἐσθῆτα καὶ αὐτήν,

When having thoroughly cleans'd, they spread them on

οὐκ οἴην, ἅμα τῇ γε καὶ ἀμφίπολοι κίον ἄλλαι.

The flood's shore, all in order. And then, where

αἱ δʼ ὅτε δὴ ποταμοῖο ῥόον περικαλλέʼ ἵκοντο,

The waves the pebbles wash'd, and ground was clear,

ἔνθʼ ἦ τοι πλυνοὶ ἦσαν ἐπηετανοί, πολὺ δʼ ὕδωρ

They bath'd themselves, and all with glitt'ring oil

καλὸν ὑπεκπρόρεεν μάλα περ ῥυπόωντα καθῆραι,

Smooth'd their white skins; refreshing then their toil

ἔνθʼ αἵ γʼ ἡμιόνους μὲν ὑπεκπροέλυσαν ἀπήνης.

With pleasant dinner, by the river-side;

καὶ τὰς μὲν σεῦαν ποταμὸν πάρα δινήεντα

Yet still watch'd when the sun their clothes had dried.

τρώγειν ἄγρωστιν μελιηδέα· ταὶ δʼ ἀπʼ ἀπήνης

Till which time, having din'd, Nausicaa

εἵματα χερσὶν ἕλοντο καὶ ἐσφόρεον μέλαν ὕδωρ,

With other virgins did at stool-ball play,

στεῖβον δʼ ἐν βόθροισι θοῶς ἔριδα προφέρουσαι.

Their shoulder-reaching head-tires laying by.

αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πλῦνάν τε κάθηράν τε ῥύπα πάντα,

Nausicaa, with the wrists of ivory,

ἑξείης πέτασαν παρὰ θῖνʼ ἁλός, ἧχι μάλιστα

The liking stroke struck, singing first a song,

λάιγγας ποτὶ χέρσον ἀποπλύνεσκε θάλασσα.

As custom order'd, and amidst the throng

αἱ δὲ λοεσσάμεναι καὶ χρισάμεναι λίπʼ ἐλαίῳ

Made such a show, and so past all was seen,

δεῖπνον ἔπειθʼ εἵλοντο παρʼ ὄχθῃσιν ποταμοῖο,

As when the chaste-born, arrow-loving, Queen,

εἵματα δʼ ἠελίοιο μένον τερσήμεναι αὐγῇ.

Along the mountains gliding, either over

αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ σίτου τάρφθεν δμῳαί τε καὶ αὐτή,

Spartan Taygetus, whose tops far discover,

σφαίρῃ ταὶ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπαιζον, ἀπὸ κρήδεμνα βαλοῦσαι·

Or Eurymanthus, in the wild boar's chace,

τῇσι δὲ Ναυσικάα λευκώλενος ἤρχετο μολπῆς.

Or swift-hov'd hart, and with her Jove's fair race,

οἵη δʼ Ἄρτεμις εἶσι κατʼ οὔρεα ἰοχέαιρα,

The field Nymphs, sporting; amongst whom, to see

ἢ κατὰ Τηΰγετον περιμήκετον ἢ Ἐρύμανθον,

How far Diana had priority,

τερπομένη κάπροισι καὶ ὠκείῃς ἐλάφοισι·

Though all were fair, for fairness yet of all,

τῇ δέ θʼ ἅμα νύμφαι, κοῦραι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο,

As both by head and forehead being more tall,

ἀγρονόμοι παίζουσι, γέγηθε δέ τε φρένα Λητώ·

Latona triumph'd, since the dullest sight

πασάων δʼ ὑπὲρ ἥ γε κάρη ἔχει ἠδὲ μέτωπα,

Might eas'ly judge whom her pains brought to light;

ῥεῖά τʼ ἀριγνώτη πέλεται, καλαὶ δέ τε πᾶσαι·

Nausicaa so, whom never husband tam'd,

ὣς ἥ γʼ ἀμφιπόλοισι μετέπρεπε παρθένος ἀδμής.

Above them all in all the beauties flam'd.

ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ ἄρʼ ἔμελλε πάλιν οἶκόνδε νέεσθαι

But when they now made homewards, and array'd,

ζεύξασʼ ἡμιόνους πτύξασά τε εἵματα καλά,

Ord'ring their weeds disorder'd as they play'd,

ἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,

Mules and coach ready, then Minerva thought

ὡς Ὀδυσεὺς ἔγροιτο, ἴδοι τʼ ἐυώπιδα κούρην,

What means to wake Ulysses might be wrought,

ἥ οἱ Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν πόλιν ἡγήσαιτο.

That he might see this lovely-sighted maid,

σφαῖραν ἔπειτʼ ἔρριψε μετʼ ἀμφίπολον βασίλεια·

Whom she intended should become his aid,

ἀμφιπόλου μὲν ἅμαρτε, βαθείῃ δʼ ἔμβαλε δίνῃ·

Bring him to town, and his return advance.

αἱ δʼ ἐπὶ μακρὸν ἄυσαν· ὁ δʼ ἔγρετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,

Her mean was this, though thought a stool-ball chance:

ἑζόμενος δʼ ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν·

The queen now, for the upstroke, struck the ball

ὤ μοι ἐγώ, τέων αὖτε βροτῶν ἐς γαῖαν ἱκάνω;

Quite wide off th' other maids, and made it fall

ἦ ῥʼ οἵ γʼ ὑβρισταί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,

Amidst the whirlpools. At which out shriek'd all,

ἦε φιλόξεινοι καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής;

And with the shriek did wise Ulysses wake;

ὥς τέ με κουράων ἀμφήλυθε θῆλυς ἀυτή·

Who, sitting up, was doubtful who should make

νυμφάων, αἳ ἔχουσʼ ὀρέων αἰπεινὰ κάρηνα

That sudden outcry, and in mind thus striv'd:

καὶ πηγὰς ποταμῶν καὶ πίσεα ποιήεντα.

"On what a people am I now arriv'd?

At civil hospitable men, that fear

The Gods? Or dwell injurious mortals here?

Unjust, and churlish? Like the female cry

Of youth it sounds. What are they? Nymphs bred high

On tops of hills, or in the founts of floods,

In herby marshes, or in leafy woods?

Or are they high-spoke men I now am near?

I'll prove, and see." With this, the wary peer

Crept forth the thicket, and an olive bough

Broke with his broad hand, which he did bestow

In covert of his nakedness, and then

Put hasty head out. Look how from his den

A mountain lion looks, that, all embrued

With drops of trees, and weather-beaten-hued,

Bold of his strength, goes on, and in his eye

A burning furnace glows, all bent to prey

On sheep, or oxen, or the upland hart,

His belly charging him, and he must part

Stakes with the herdsman in his beasts' attempt,

Ev'n where from rape their strengths are most exempt;

So wet, so weather-beat, so stung with need,

Ev'n to the home-fields of the country's breed

Ulysses was to force forth his access,

ἦ νύ που ἀνθρώπων εἰμὶ σχεδὸν αὐδηέντων;

Though merely naked; and his sight did press

ἀλλʼ ἄγʼ ἐγὼν αὐτὸς πειρήσομαι ἠδὲ ἴδωμαι.

The eyes of soft-hair'd virgins. Horrid was

ὣς εἰπὼν θάμνων ὑπεδύσετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,

His rough appearance to them; the hard pass

ἐκ πυκινῆς δʼ ὕλης πτόρθον κλάσε χειρὶ παχείῃ

He had at sea stuck by him. All in flight

φύλλων, ὡς ῥύσαιτο περὶ χροῒ μήδεα φωτός.

The virgins scatter'd, frighted with this sight,

βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ὥς τε λέων ὀρεσίτροφος ἀλκὶ πεποιθώς,

About the prominent windings of the flood.

ὅς τʼ εἶσʼ ὑόμενος καὶ ἀήμενος, ἐν δέ οἱ ὄσσε

All but Nausicaa fled; but she fast stood,

δαίεται· αὐτὰρ ὁ βουσὶ μετέρχεται ἢ ὀίεσσιν

Pallas had put a boldness in her breast,

ἠὲ μετʼ ἀγροτέρας ἐλάφους· κέλεται δέ ἑ γαστὴρ

And in her fair limbs tender fear comprest.

μήλων πειρήσοντα καὶ ἐς πυκινὸν δόμον ἐλθεῖν·

And still she stood him, as resolv'd to know

ὣς Ὀδυσεὺς κούρῃσιν ἐυπλοκάμοισιν ἔμελλε

What man he was, or out of what should grow

μίξεσθαι, γυμνός περ ἐών· χρειὼ γὰρ ἵκανε.

His strange repair to them. And here was he

σμερδαλέος δʼ αὐτῇσι φάνη κεκακωμένος ἅλμῃ,

Put to his wisdom; if her virgin knee

τρέσσαν δʼ ἄλλυδις ἄλλη ἐπʼ ἠιόνας προὐχούσας·

He should be bold, but kneeling, to embrace,

οἴη δʼ Ἀλκινόου θυγάτηρ μένε· τῇ γὰρ Ἀθήνη

Or keep aloof, and try with words of grace,

θάρσος ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θῆκε καὶ ἐκ δέος εἵλετο γυίων.

In humblest suppliance, if he might obtain

στῆ δʼ ἄντα σχομένη· ὁ δὲ μερμήριξεν Ὀδυσσεύς,

Some cover for his nakedness, and gain

ἢ γούνων λίσσοιτο λαβὼν ἐυώπιδα κούρην,

Her grace to show and guide him to the town.

ἦ αὔτως ἐπέεσσιν ἀποσταδὰ μειλιχίοισι

The last he best thought, to be worth his own,

λίσσοιτʼ, εἰ δείξειε πόλιν καὶ εἵματα δοίη.

In weighing both well; to keep still aloof,

ὣς ἄρα οἱ φρονέοντι δοάσσατο κέρδιον εἶναι,

And give with soft words his desires their proof,

λίσσεσθαι ἐπέεσσιν ἀποσταδὰ μειλιχίοισι,

Lest, pressing so near as to touch her knee,

μή οἱ γοῦνα λαβόντι χολώσαιτο φρένα κούρη.

He might incense her maiden modesty.

αὐτίκα μειλίχιον καὶ κερδαλέον φάτο μῦθον.

This fair and fil'd speech then shew'd this was he:

γουνοῦμαί σε, ἄνασσα· θεός νύ τις, ἦ βροτός ἐσσι;

"Let me beseech, O queen, this truth of thee,

εἰ μέν τις θεός ἐσσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,

Are you of mortal, or the defied, race?

Ἀρτέμιδί σε ἐγώ γε, Διὸς κούρῃ μεγάλοιο,

If of the Gods, that th' ample heav'ns embrace,

εἶδός τε μέγεθός τε φυήν τʼ ἄγχιστα ἐίσκω·

I can resemble you to none above

εἰ δέ τίς ἐσσι βροτῶν, τοὶ ἐπὶ χθονὶ ναιετάουσιν,

So near as to the chaste-born birth of Jove,

τρὶς μάκαρες μὲν σοί γε πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ,

The beamy Cynthia. Her you full present,

τρὶς μάκαρες δὲ κασίγνητοι· μάλα πού σφισι θυμὸς

In grace of ev'ry God-like lineament,

αἰὲν ἐυφροσύνῃσιν ἰαίνεται εἵνεκα σεῖο,

Her goodly magnitude, and all th' address

λευσσόντων τοιόνδε θάλος χορὸν εἰσοιχνεῦσαν.

You promise of her very perfectness.

κεῖνος δʼ αὖ περὶ κῆρι μακάρτατος ἔξοχον ἄλλων,

If sprung of humans, that inhabit earth,

ὅς κέ σʼ ἐέδνοισι βρίσας οἶκόνδʼ ἀγάγηται.

Thrice blest are both the authors of your birth,

οὐ γάρ πω τοιοῦτον ἴδον βροτὸν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,

Thrice blest your brothers, that in your deserts

οὔτʼ ἄνδρʼ οὔτε γυναῖκα· σέβας μʼ ἔχει εἰσορόωντα.

Must, ev'n to rapture, bear delighted hearts,

Δήλῳ δή ποτε τοῖον Ἀπόλλωνος παρὰ βωμῷ

To see, so like the first trim of a tree,

φοίνικος νέον ἔρνος ἀνερχόμενον ἐνόησα·

Your form adorn a dance. But most blest he,

ἦλθον γὰρ καὶ κεῖσε, πολὺς δέ μοι ἕσπετο λαός,

Of all that breathe, that hath the gift t' engage

τὴν ὁδὸν ᾗ δὴ μέλλεν ἐμοὶ κακὰ κήδεʼ ἔσεσθαι.

Your bright neck in the yoke of marriage,

And deck his house with your commanding merit

I have not seen a man of so much spirit,

Nor man, nor woman, I did ever see,

At all parts equal to the parts in thee.

T' enjoy your sight, doth admiration seize

My eyes, and apprehensive faculties.

Lately in Delos (with a charge of men

Arriv'd, that render'd me most wretched then,

Now making me thus naked) I beheld

The burthen of a palm, whose issue swell'd

About Apollo's fane, and that put on

A grace like thee; for Earth had never none

Of all her sylvan issue so adorn'd.

Into amaze my very soul was turn'd,

To give it observation; as now thee

To view, O virgin, a stupidity

Past admiration strikes me, join'd with fear

To do a suppliant's due, and press so near,

As to embrace thy knees. Nor is it strange,

For one of fresh and firmest spirit would change

T' embrace so bright an object. But, for me,

A cruel habit of calamity

Prepar'd the strong impression thou hast made;

For this last day did fly night's twentieth shade

ὣς δʼ αὔτως καὶ κεῖνο ἰδὼν ἐτεθήπεα θυμῷ

Since I, at length, escap'd the sable seas;

δήν, ἐπεὶ οὔ πω τοῖον ἀνήλυθεν ἐκ δόρυ γαίης,

When in the mean time th' unrelenting prease

ὡς σέ, γύναι, ἄγαμαί τε τέθηπά τε, δείδια δʼ αἰνῶς

Of waves and stern storms toss'd me up and down,

γούνων ἅψασθαι· χαλεπὸν δέ με πένθος ἱκάνει.

From th' isle Ogygia. And now God hath thrown

χθιζὸς ἐεικοστῷ φύγον ἤματι οἴνοπα πόντον·

My wrack on this shore, that perhaps I may

τόφρα δέ μʼ αἰεὶ κῦμʼ ἐφόρει κραιπναί τε θύελλαι

My mis'ries vary here; for yet their stay,

νήσου ἀπʼ Ὠγυγίης. νῦν δʼ ἐνθάδε κάββαλε δαίμων,

I fear, Heav'n hath not order'd, though, before

ὄφρʼ ἔτι που καὶ τῇδε πάθω κακόν· οὐ γὰρ ὀίω

These late afflictions, it hath lent me store.

παύσεσθʼ, ἀλλʼ ἔτι πολλὰ θεοὶ τελέουσι πάροιθεν.

O queen, deign pity then, since first to you

ἀλλά, ἄνασσʼ, ἐλέαιρε· σὲ γὰρ κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας

My fate importunes my distress to vow.

ἐς πρώτην ἱκόμην, τῶν δʼ ἄλλων οὔ τινα οἶδα

No other dame, nor man, that this Earth own,

ἀνθρώπων, οἳ τήνδε πόλιν καὶ γαῖαν ἔχουσιν.

And neighbour city, I have seen or known.

ἄστυ δέ μοι δεῖξον, δὸς δὲ ῥάκος ἀμφιβαλέσθαι,

The town then show me; give my nakedness

εἴ τί που εἴλυμα σπείρων ἔχες ἐνθάδʼ ἰοῦσα.

Some shroud to shelter it, if to these seas

σοὶ δὲ θεοὶ τόσα δοῖεν ὅσα φρεσὶ σῇσι μενοινᾷς,

Linen or woollen you have brought to cleanse.

ἄνδρα τε καὶ οἶκον, καὶ ὁμοφροσύνην ὀπάσειαν

God give you, in requital, all th' amends

ἐσθλήν· οὐ μὲν γὰρ τοῦ γε κρεῖσσον καὶ ἄρειον,

Your heart can wish, a husband, family,

ἢ ὅθʼ ὁμοφρονέοντε νοήμασιν οἶκον ἔχητον

And good agreement. Nought beneath the sky

ἀνὴρ ἠδὲ γυνή· πόλλʼ ἄλγεα δυσμενέεσσι,

More sweet, more worthy is, than firm consent

χάρματα δʼ εὐμενέτῃσι, μάλιστα δέ τʼ ἔκλυον αὐτοί.

Of man and wife in household government.

τὸν δʼ αὖ Ναυσικάα λευκώλενος ἀντίον ηὔδα·

It joys their wishers-well, their enemies wounds,

ξεῖνʼ, ἐπεὶ οὔτε κακῷ οὔτʼ ἄφρονι φωτὶ ἔοικας·

But to themselves the special good redounds."

Ζεὺς δʼ αὐτὸς νέμει ὄλβον Ὀλύμπιος ἀνθρώποισιν,

She answer'd: "Stranger! I discern in thee

ἐσθλοῖς ἠδὲ κακοῖσιν, ὅπως ἐθέλῃσιν, ἑκάστῳ·

Nor sloth, nor folly, reigns; and yet I see

καί που σοὶ τάδʼ ἔδωκε, σὲ δὲ χρὴ τετλάμεν ἔμπης.

Th' art poor and wretched. In which I conclude,

νῦν δʼ, ἐπεὶ ἡμετέρην τε πόλιν καὶ γαῖαν ἱκάνεις,

That industry nor wisdom make endued

οὔτʼ οὖν ἐσθῆτος δευήσεαι οὔτε τευ ἄλλου,

Men with those gifts that make them best to th' eye;

ὧν ἐπέοιχʼ ἱκέτην ταλαπείριον ἀντιάσαντα.

Jove only orders man's felicity.

ἄστυ δέ τοι δείξω, ἐρέω δέ τοι οὔνομα λαῶν.

To good and bad his pleasure fashions still

Φαίηκες μὲν τήνδε πόλιν καὶ γαῖαν ἔχουσιν,

The whole proportion of their good and ill.

εἰμὶ δʼ ἐγὼ θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο,

And he, perhaps, hath form'd this plight in thee,

τοῦ δʼ ἐκ Φαιήκων ἔχεται κάρτος τε βίη τε.

Of which thou must be patient, as he free.

ἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφιπόλοισιν ἐυπλοκάμοισι κέλευσε·

But after all thy wand'rings, since thy way,

στῆτέ μοι, ἀμφίπολοι· πόσε φεύγετε φῶτα ἰδοῦσαι;

Both to our earth, and near our city, lay,

ἦ μή πού τινα δυσμενέων φάσθʼ ἔμμεναι ἀνδρῶν;

As being expos'd to our cares to relieve,

οὐκ ἔσθʼ οὗτος ἀνὴρ διερὸς βροτὸς οὐδὲ γένηται,

Weeds, and what else a human hand should give

ὅς κεν Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν ἐς γαῖαν ἵκηται

To one so suppliant and tam'd with woe,

δηιοτῆτα φέρων· μάλα γὰρ φίλοι ἀθανάτοισιν.

Thou shalt not want. Our city I will show,

οἰκέομεν δʼ ἀπάνευθε πολυκλύστῳ ἐνὶ πόντῳ,

And tell our people's name: This neighbour town,

ἔσχατοι, οὐδέ τις ἄμμι βροτῶν ἐπιμίσγεται ἄλλος.

And all this kingdom, the Phæacians own.

ἀλλʼ ὅδε τις δύστηνος ἀλώμενος ἐνθάδʼ ἱκάνει,

And (since thou seem'dst so fain to know my birth,

And mad'st a question, if of heav'n or earth.)

This earth hath bred me; and my father's name

Alcinous is, that in the pow'r and frame

Of this isle's rule is supereminent."

Thus, passing him, she to the virgins went,

And said: "Give stay both to your feet and fright.

Why thus disperse ye for a man's mere sight?

Esteem you him a Cyclop, that long since

Made use to prey upon our citizens?

This man no moist man is, (nor wat'rish thing,

That's ever flitting, ever ravishing

All it can compass; and, like it, doth range

In rape of women, never stay'd in change).

This man is truly manly, wise, and stay'd,

In soul more rich the more to sense decay'd,

Who nor will do, nor suffer to be done,

Acts lewd and abject; nor can such a one

Greet the Phæacians with a mind envíous,

Dear to the Gods they are, and he is pious,

Besides, divided from the world we are,

The out-part of it, billows circular

The sea revolving round about our shore;

Nor is there any man that enters more

τὸν νῦν χρὴ κομέειν· πρὸς γὰρ Διός εἰσιν ἅπαντες

Than our own countrymen, with what is brought

ξεῖνοί τε πτωχοί τε, δόσις δʼ ὀλίγη τε φίλη τε.

From other countries. This man, minding nought

ἀλλὰ δότʼ, ἀμφίπολοι, ξείνῳ βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε,

But his relief, a poor unhappy wretch,

λούσατέ τʼ ἐν ποταμῷ, ὅθʼ ἐπὶ σκέπας ἔστʼ ἀνέμοιο.

Wrack'd here, and hath no other land to fetch,

ὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δʼ ἔσταν τε καὶ ἀλλήλῃσι κέλευσαν,

Him now we must provide for. From Jove come

κὰδ δʼ ἄρʼ Ὀδυσσῆʼ εἷσαν ἐπὶ σκέπας, ὡς ἐκέλευσεν

All strangers, and the needy of a home,

Ναυσικάα θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο·

Who any gift, though ne'er so small it be,

πὰρ δʼ ἄρα οἱ φᾶρός τε χιτῶνά τε εἵματʼ ἔθηκαν,

Esteem as great, and take it gratefully.

δῶκαν δὲ χρυσέῃ ἐν ληκύθῳ ὑγρὸν ἔλαιον,

And therefore, virgins, give the stranger food,

ἤνωγον δʼ ἄρα μιν λοῦσθαι ποταμοῖο ῥοῇσιν.

And wine; and see ye bathe him in the flood,

δή ῥα τότʼ ἀμφιπόλοισι μετηύδα δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·

Near to some shore to shelter most inclin'd.

ἀμφίπολοι, στῆθʼ οὕτω ἀπόπροθεν, ὄφρʼ ἐγὼ αὐτὸς

To cold-bath-bathers hurtful is the wind,

ἅλμην ὤμοιιν ἀπολούσομαι, ἀμφὶ δʼ ἐλαίῳ

Not only rugged making th' outward skin,

χρίσομαι· ἦ γὰρ δηρὸν ἀπὸ χροός ἐστιν ἀλοιφή.

But by his thin pow'rs pierceth parts within.'

ἄντην δʼ οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε λοέσσομαι· αἰδέομαι γὰρ

This said, their flight in a return they set,

γυμνοῦσθαι κούρῃσιν ἐυπλοκάμοισι μετελθών.

And did Ulysses with all grace entreat,

ὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δʼ ἀπάνευθεν ἴσαν, εἶπον δʼ ἄρα κούρῃ.

Show'd him a shore, wind-proof, and full of shade,

αὐτὰρ ὁ ἐκ ποταμοῦ χρόα νίζετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς

By him a shirt and utter mantle laid,

ἅλμην, ἥ οἱ νῶτα καὶ εὐρέας ἄμπεχεν ὤμους,

A golden jug of liquid oil did add,

ἐκ κεφαλῆς δʼ ἔσμηχεν ἁλὸς χνόον ἀτρυγέτοιο.

Bad wash, and all things as Nausicaa bad.

αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντα λοέσσατο καὶ λίπʼ ἄλειψεν,

Divine Ulysses would not use their aid;

ἀμφὶ δὲ εἵματα ἕσσαθʼ ἅ οἱ πόρε παρθένος ἀδμής,

But thus bespake them: "Ev'ry lovely maid,

τὸν μὲν Ἀθηναίη θῆκεν Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα

Let me entreat to stand a little by,

μείζονά τʼ εἰσιδέειν καὶ πάσσονα, κὰδ δὲ κάρητος

That I, alone, the fresh flood may apply

οὔλας ἧκε κόμας, ὑακινθίνῳ ἄνθει ὁμοίας.

To cleanse my bosom of the sea-wrought brine,

ὡς δʼ ὅτε τις χρυσὸν περιχεύεται ἀργύρῳ ἀνὴρ

And then use oil, which long time did not shine

ἴδρις, ὃν Ἥφαιστος δέδαεν καὶ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη

On my poor shoulders. I'll not wash in sight

τέχνην παντοίην, χαρίεντα δὲ ἔργα τελείει,

Of fair-hair'd maidens. I should blush outright,

ὣς ἄρα τῷ κατέχευε χάριν κεφαλῇ τε καὶ ὤμοις.

To bathe all-bare by such a virgin light."

ἕζετʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀπάνευθε κιὼν ἐπὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης,

They mov'd, and mus'd a man had so much grace,

κάλλεϊ καὶ χάρισι στίλβων· θηεῖτο δὲ κούρη.

And told their mistress what a man he was.

δή ῥα τότʼ ἀμφιπόλοισιν ἐυπλοκάμοισι μετηύδα·

He cleans'd his broad soil'd shoulders, back, and head

κλῦτέ μευ, ἀμφίπολοι λευκώλενοι, ὄφρα τι εἴπω.

Yet never tam'd, but now had foam and weed

οὐ πάντων ἀέκητι θεῶν, οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν,

Knit in the fair curls. Which dissolv'd, and he

Φαιήκεσσʼ ὅδʼ ἀνὴρ ἐπιμίσγεται ἀντιθέοισι·

Slick'd all with sweet oil, the sweet charity

πρόσθεν μὲν γὰρ δή μοι ἀεικέλιος δέατʼ εἶναι,

The untouch'd virgin show'd in his attire

νῦν δὲ θεοῖσιν ἔοικε, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν.

He cloth'd him with. Then Pallas put a fire,

αἲ γὰρ ἐμοὶ τοιόσδε πόσις κεκλημένος εἴη

More than before, into his sparkling eyes,

ἐνθάδε ναιετάων, καί οἱ ἅδοι αὐτόθι μίμνειν.

His late soil set off with his soon fresh guise.

ἀλλὰ δότʼ, ἀμφίπολοι, ξείνῳ βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε.

His locks, cleans'd, curl'd the more, and match'd, in pow'r

ὣς ἔφαθʼ, αἱ δʼ ἄρα τῆς μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο,

To please an eye, the hyacinthian flow'r.

πὰρ δʼ ἄρʼ Ὀδυσσῆι ἔθεσαν βρῶσίν τε πόσιν τε.

And as a workman, that can well combine

Silver and gold, and make both strive to shine,

As being by Vulcan, and Minerva too,

Taught how far either may be urg'd to go

In strife of eminence, when work sets forth

A worthy soul to bodies of such worth,

No thought reproving th' act, in any place,

Nor Art no debt to Nature's liveliest grace;

So Pallas wrought in him a grace as great

From head to shoulders, and ashore did seat

His goodly presence. To which such a guise

He show'd in going, that it ravish'd eyes.

All which continued, as he sat apart,

Nausicaa's eye struck wonder through her heart,

Who thus bespake her consorts: "Hear me, you

Fair-wristed virgins! This rare man, I know,

Treads not our country-earth, against the will

Of some God thronéd on th' Olympian hill.

He show'd to me, till now, not worth the note,

But now he looks as he had godhead got.

I would to heav'n my husband were no worse,

And would be call'd no better, but the course

Of other husbands pleas'd to dwell out here.

Observe and serve him with our utmost cheer."

ἦ τοι ὁ πῖνε καὶ ἦσθε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς

She said, they heard and did. He drunk and eat

ἁρπαλέως· δηρὸν γὰρ ἐδητύος ἦεν ἄπαστος.

Like to a harpy, having touch'd no meat

αὐτὰρ Ναυσικάα λευκώλενος ἄλλʼ ἐνόησεν·

A long before time. But Nausicaa now

εἵματʼ ἄρα πτύξασα τίθει καλῆς ἐπʼ ἀπήνης,

Thought of the more grace she did lately vow,

ζεῦξεν δʼ ἡμιόνους κρατερώνυχας, ἂν δʼ ἔβη αὐτή,

Had horse to chariot join'd, and up she rose,

ὤτρυνεν δʼ Ὀδυσῆα, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·

Up cheer'd her guest, and said: "Guest, now dispose

ὄρσεο δὴ νῦν, ξεῖνε, πόλινδʼ ἴμεν ὄφρα σε πέμψω

Yourself for town, that I may let you see

πατρὸς ἐμοῦ πρὸς δῶμα δαΐφρονος, ἔνθα σέ φημι

My father's court, where all the peers will be

πάντων Φαιήκων εἰδησέμεν ὅσσοι ἄριστοι.

Of our Phæacian state. At all parts, then,

ἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὧδʼ ἔρδειν, δοκέεις δέ μοι οὐκ ἀπινύσσειν·

Observe to whom and what place y' are t' attain;

ὄφρʼ ἂν μέν κʼ ἀγροὺς ἴομεν καὶ ἔργʼ ἀνθρώπων,

Though I need usher you with no advice,

τόφρα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι μεθʼ ἡμιόνους καὶ ἄμαξαν

Since I suppose you absolutely wise.

καρπαλίμως ἔρχεσθαι· ἐγὼ δʼ ὁδὸν ἡγεμονεύσω.

While we the fields pass, and men's labours there,

αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν πόλιος ἐπιβήομεν, ἣν πέρι πύργος

So long, in these maids' guides, directly bear

ὑψηλός, καλὸς δὲ λιμὴν ἑκάτερθε πόληος,

Upon my chariot (I must go before

λεπτὴ δʼ εἰσίθμη· νῆες δʼ ὁδὸν ἀμφιέλισσαι

For cause that after comes, to which this more

εἰρύαται· πᾶσιν γὰρ ἐπίστιόν ἐστιν ἑκάστῳ.

Be my induction) you shall then soon end

ἔνθα δέ τέ σφʼ ἀγορὴ καλὸν Ποσιδήιον ἀμφίς,

Your way to town, whose tow'rs you see ascend

ῥυτοῖσιν λάεσσι κατωρυχέεσσʼ ἀραρυῖα.

To such a steepness. On whose either side

ἔνθα δὲ νηῶν ὅπλα μελαινάων ἀλέγουσι,

A fair port stands, to which is nothing wide

πείσματα καὶ σπεῖρα, καὶ ἀποξύνουσιν ἐρετμά.

An ent'rer's passage; on whose both hands ride

οὐ γὰρ Φαιήκεσσι μέλει βιὸς οὐδὲ φαρέτρη,

Ships in fair harbours; which once past, you win

ἀλλʼ ἱστοὶ καὶ ἐρετμὰ νεῶν καὶ νῆες ἐῖσαι,

The goodly market-place (that circles in

ᾗσιν ἀγαλλόμενοι πολιὴν περόωσι θάλασσαν.

A fane to Neptune, built of curious stone,

τῶν ἀλεείνω φῆμιν ἀδευκέα, μή τις ὀπίσσω

And passing ample) where munitión,

μωμεύῃ· μάλα δʼ εἰσὶν ὑπερφίαλοι κατὰ δῆμον·

Gables, and masts, men make, and polish'd oars;

καί νύ τις ὧδʼ εἴπῃσι κακώτερος ἀντιβολήσας·

For the Phæacians are not conquerors

τίς δʼ ὅδε Ναυσικάᾳ ἕπεται καλός τε μέγας τε

By bows nor quivers; oars, masts, ships they are

ξεῖνος; ποῦ δέ μιν εὗρε; πόσις νύ οἱ ἔσσεται αὐτῇ.

With which they plough the sea, and wage their war.

ἦ τινά που πλαγχθέντα κομίσσατο ἧς ἀπὸ νηὸς

And now the cause comes why I lead the way,

ἀνδρῶν τηλεδαπῶν, ἐπεὶ οὔ τινες ἐγγύθεν εἰσίν·

Not taking you to coach: The men, that sway

ἤ τίς οἱ εὐξαμένῃ πολυάρητος θεὸς ἦλθεν

In work of those tools that so fit our state,

οὐρανόθεν καταβάς, ἕξει δέ μιν ἤματα πάντα.

Are rude mechanicals, that rare and late

βέλτερον, εἰ καὐτή περ ἐποιχομένη πόσιν εὗρεν

Work in the market-place; and those are they

ἄλλοθεν· ἦ γὰρ τούσδε γʼ ἀτιμάζει κατὰ δῆμον

Whose bitter tongues I shun, who straight would say

Φαίηκας, τοί μιν μνῶνται πολέες τε καὶ ἐσθλοί.

(For these vile vulgars are extremely proud,

ὣς ἐρέουσιν, ἐμοὶ δέ κʼ ὀνείδεα ταῦτα γένοιτο.

And foully-languag'd) 'What is he, allow'd

καὶ δʼ ἄλλῃ νεμεσῶ, ἥ τις τοιαῦτά γε ῥέζοι,

To coach it with Nausicaa, so large set,

ἥ τʼ ἀέκητι φίλων πατρὸς καὶ μητρὸς ἐόντων,

And fairly fashion'd? Where were these two met?

ἀνδράσι μίσγηται, πρίν γʼ ἀμφάδιον γάμον ἐλθεῖν.

He shall be sure her husband. She hath been

ξεῖνε, σὺ δʼ ὦκʼ ἐμέθεν ξυνίει ἔπος, ὄφρα τάχιστα

Gadding in some place, and, of foreign men

Fitting her fancy, kindly brought him home

In her own ship. He must, of force, be come

From some far region; we have no such man.

It may be, praying hard, when her heart ran

On some wish'd husband, out of heav'n some God

Dropp'd in her lap; and there lies she at road

Her cómplete life time. But, in sooth, if she,

Ranging abroad, a husband, such as he

Whom now we saw, laid hand on, she was wise,

For none of all our nobles are of prize

Enough for her; he must beyond sea come,

That wins her high mind, and will have her home.

Of our peers many have importun'd her,

Yet she will none.' Thus these folks will confer

Behind my back; or, meeting, to my face

The foul-mouth rout dare put home this disgrace;

And this would be reproaches to my fame,

For, ev'n myself just anger would inflame,

If any other virgin I should see,

Her parents living, keep the company

Of any man to any end of love,

Till open nuptials should her act approve.

And therefore hear me, guest, and take such way,

That you yourself may compass, in your stay,

πομπῆς καὶ νόστοιο τύχῃς παρὰ πατρὸς ἐμοῖο.

Your quick deduction by my father's grace,

δήεις ἀγλαὸν ἄλσος Ἀθήνης ἄγχι κελεύθου

And means to reach the root of all your race.

αἰγείρων· ἐν δὲ κρήνη νάει, ἀμφὶ δὲ λειμών·

We shall, not far out of our way to town,

ἔνθα δὲ πατρὸς ἐμοῦ τέμενος τεθαλυῖά τʼ ἀλωή,

A never-fell'd grove find, that poplars crown,

τόσσον ἀπὸ πτόλιος, ὅσσον τε γέγωνε βοήσας.

To Pallas sacred, where a fountain flows,

ἔνθα καθεζόμενος μεῖναι χρόνον, εἰς ὅ κεν ἡμεῖς

And round about the grove a meadow grows,

ἄστυδε ἔλθωμεν καὶ ἱκώμεθα δώματα πατρός.

In which my father holds a manor-house,

αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν ἡμέας ἔλπῃ ποτὶ δώματʼ ἀφῖχθαι,

Deck'd all with orchards, green, and odorous,

καὶ τότε Φαιήκων ἴμεν ἐς πόλιν ἠδʼ ἐρέεσθαι

As far from town as one may hear a shout.

δώματα πατρὸς ἐμοῦ μεγαλήτορος Ἀλκινόοιο.

There stay, and rest your foot-pains, till full out

ῥεῖα δʼ ἀρίγνωτʼ ἐστί, καὶ ἂν πάϊς ἡγήσαιτο

We reach the city; where, when you may guess

νήπιος· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι ἐοικότα τοῖσι τέτυκται

We are arriv'd, and enter our access

δώματα Φαιήκων, οἷος δόμος Ἀλκινόοιο

Within my father's court, then put you on

ἥρωος. ἀλλʼ ὁπότʼ ἄν σε δόμοι κεκύθωσι καὶ αὐλή,

For our Phæacian state, where, to be shown

ὦκα μάλα μεγάροιο διελθέμεν, ὄφρʼ ἂν ἵκηαι

My father's house, desire. Each infant there

μητέρʼ ἐμήν· ἡ δʼ ἧσται ἐπʼ ἐσχάρῃ ἐν πυρὸς αὐγῇ,

Can bring you to it; and yourself will clear

ἠλάκατα στρωφῶσʼ ἁλιπόρφυρα, θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι,

Distinguish it from others, for no shows

κίονι κεκλιμένη· δμωαὶ δέ οἱ εἵατʼ ὄπισθεν.

The city-buildings make compar'd with those

ἔνθα δὲ πατρὸς ἐμοῖο θρόνος ποτικέκλιται αὐτῇ,

That king Alcinous' seat doth celebrate.

τῷ ὅ γε οἰνοποτάζει ἐφήμενος ἀθάνατος ὥς.

In whose roofs, and the court (where men of state,

τὸν παραμειψάμενος μητρὸς περὶ γούνασι χεῖρας

And suitors sit and stay) when you shall hide,

βάλλειν ἡμετέρης, ἵνα νόστιμον ἦμαρ ἴδηαι

Straight pass it, ent'ring further, where abide

χαίρων καρπαλίμως, εἰ καὶ μάλα τηλόθεν ἐσσί.

My mother, with her withdrawn housewif'ries,

εἴ κέν τοι κείνη γε φίλα φρονέῃσʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,

Who still sits in the fire-shine, and applies

ἐλπωρή τοι ἔπειτα φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι

Her rock, all-purple, and of pompous show,

οἶκον ἐυκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.

Her chair plac'd 'gainst a pillar, all-a-row

ὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἵμασεν μάστιγι φαεινῇ

Her maids behind her set; and to her here

ἡμιόνους· αἱ δʼ ὦκα λίπον ποταμοῖο ῥέεθρα.

My father's dining-throne looks, seated where

αἱ δʼ ἐὺ μὲν τρώχων, ἐὺ δὲ πλίσσοντο πόδεσσιν·

He pours his choice of wine in, like a God.

ἡ δὲ μάλʼ ἡνιόχευεν, ὅπως ἅμʼ ἑποίατο πεζοὶ

This view once past, for th' end of your abode,

ἀμφίπολοί τʼ Ὀδυσεύς τε, νόῳ δʼ ἐπέβαλλεν ἱμάσθλην.

Address suit to my mother, that her mean

δύσετό τʼ ἠέλιος καὶ τοὶ κλυτὸν ἄλσος ἵκοντο

May make the day of your redition seen,

ἱρὸν Ἀθηναίης, ἵνʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.

And you may frolic straight, though far away

αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἠρᾶτο Διὸς κούρῃ μεγάλοιο·

You are in distance from your wishéd stay.

κλῦθί μευ, αἰγιόχοιο Διὸς τέκος, Ἀτρυτώνη·

For, if she once be won to wish you well,

νῦν δή πέρ μευ ἄκουσον, ἐπεὶ πάρος οὔ ποτʼ ἄκουσας

Your hope may instantly your passport seal,

ῥαιομένου, ὅτε μʼ ἔρραιε κλυτὸς ἐννοσίγαιος.

And thenceforth sure abide to see your friends,

δός μʼ ἐς Φαίηκας φίλον ἐλθεῖν ἠδʼ ἐλεεινόν.

Fair house, and all to which your heart contends."

ὣς ἔφατʼ εὐχόμενος, τοῦ δʼ ἔκλυε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.

This said, she us'd her shining scourge, and lash'd

αὐτῷ δʼ οὔ πω φαίνετʼ ἐναντίη· αἴδετο γάρ ῥα

Her mules, that soon the shore left where she wash'd,

πατροκασίγνητον· ὁ δʼ ἐπιζαφελῶς μενέαινεν

And, knowing well the way, their pace was fleet,

ἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆι πάρος ἣν γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.

And thick they gather'd up their nimble feet.

Which yet she temper'd so, and us'd her scourge

With so much skill, as not to over-urge

The foot behind, and make them straggle so

From close society. Firm together go

Ulysses and her maids. And now the sun

Sunk to the waters, when they all had won

The never-fell'd, and sound-exciting, wood,

Sacred to Pallas; where the god-like good

Ulysses rested, and to Pallas pray'd:

"Hear me, of goat-kept Jove th' unconquer'd Maid!

Now throughly hear me, since, in all the time

Of all my wrack, my pray'rs could never climb

Thy far-off ears; when noiseful Neptune toss'd

Upon his wat'ry bristles my emboss'd

And rock-torn body. Hear yet now, and deign

I may of the Phæacian state obtain

Pity, and grace." Thus pray'd he, and she heard,

By no means yet, expos'd to sight, appear'd,

For fear t' offend her uncle, the supreme

Of all the Sea-Gods, whose wrath still extreme

Stood to Ulysses; and would never cease,

Till with his country shore he crown'd his peace.