Odyssey

Now when the rosy-finger'd Morn arose,

The sacred pow'r Alcinous did dispose

Did likewise rise; and, like him, left his ease

The city-razer Laertiades.

The Council at the navy was design'd;

To which Alcinous, with the sacred mind,

Came first of all. On polish'd stones they sate,

Near to the navy. To increase the state,

Minerva took the herald's form on her,

That serv'd Alcinous, studious to prefer

Ulysses' suit for home. About the town

She made quick way, and fill'd with the renown

Of that design the ears of ev'ry man,

Proclaiming thus: "Peers Phæacensian!

And Men of Council, all haste to the court,

To hear the stranger that made late resort

To King Alcinous, long time lost at sea,

And is in person like a Deity."

This all their pow'rs set up, and spirit instill'd,

And straight the court and seats with men were fill'd.

The whole state wonder'd at Laertes' son,

When they beheld him. Pallas put him on

A supernatural and heav'nly dress,

Enlarg'd him with a height, and goodliness

In breast and shoulders, that he might appear

Gracious, and grave, and reverend, and bear

A perfect hand on his performance there

In all the trials they resolv'd t' impose.

All met, and gather'd in attention close,

Alcinous thus bespake them: "Dukes, and lords,

Hear me digest my hearty thoughts in words.

This stranger here, whose travels found my court,

I know not, nor can tell if his resort

From East or West comes; but his suit is this:

That to his country-earth we would dismiss

His hither-forcéd person, and doth bear

The mind to pass it under ev'ry peer;

Whom I prepare, and stir up, making known

My free desire of his deductión.

Nor shall there ever any other man

That tries the goodness Phæacensian

In me, and my court's entertainment, stay,

Mourning for passage, under least delay.

Come then, a ship into the sacred seas,

New-built, now launch we; and from out our prease

Choose two-and-fifty youths, of all, the best

To use an oar. All which see straight imprest,

And in their oar-bound seats. Let others hie

Home to our court, commanding instantly

The solemn preparation of a feast,

In which provision may for any guest

Be made at my charge. Charge of these low things

I give our youth. You, sceptre-bearing kings,

Consort me home, and help with grace to use

This guest of ours; no one man shall refuse.

Some other of you haste, and call to us

The sacred singer, grave Demodocus,

To whom hath God giv'n song that can excite

The heart of whom he listeth with delight."

This said, he led. The sceptre-bearers lent

Their free attendance; and with all speed went

The herald for the sacred man-in-song.

Youths two-and-fifty, chosen from the throng,

Went, as was will'd, to the untam'd sea's shore;

Where come, they launch'd the ship, the mast it bore

Advanc'd, sails hoiséd, ev'ry seat his oar

Gave with a leather thong. The deep moist then

They further reach'd. The dry streets flow'd with men,

That troop'd up to the king's capacious court,

Whose porticos were chok'd with the resort,

Whose walls were hung with men, young, old, thrust there

In mighty concourse; for whose promis'd cheer

Alcinous slew twelve sheep, eight white-tooth'd swine,

Two crook-haunch'd beeves; which flay'd and dress'd, divine

The show was of so many a jocund guest,

All set together at so set a feast.

To whose accomplish'd state the herald then

The lovely singer led; who past all mean

The Muse affected, gave him good, and ill,

His eyes put out, but put in soul at will.

His place was giv'n him in a chair all grac'd

With silver studs, and 'gainst a pillar plac'd:

Where, as the centre to the state, he rests,

And round about the circle of the guests.

The herald on a pin above his head

His soundful harp hung, to whose height he led

His hand for taking of it down at will,

A board set by with food, and forth did fill

A bowl of wine, to drink at his desire.

The rest then fell to feast, and, when the fire

Of appetite was quench'd, the Muse inflam'd

The sacred singer. Of men highliest fam'd

He sung the glories, and a poem penn'd,

That in applause did ample heav'n ascend.

Whose subject was, the stern Contentión

Betwixt Ulysses and great Thetis' son,

As, at a banquet sacred to the Gods,

In dreadful language they express'd their odds.

When Agamemnon sat rejoic'd in soul

To hear the Greek peers jar in terms so foul;

For augur Phœbus in presage had told

The King of men (desirous to unfold

The war's perplex'd end, and being therefore gone

In heav'nly Pythia to the porch of stone,)

That then the end of all griefs should begin

'Twixt Greece and Troy, when Greece (with strife to win

That wish'd conclusion) in her kings should jar,

And plead, if force or wit must end the war.

This brave Contention did the poet sing,

Expressing so the spleen of either king,

That his large purple weed Ulysses held

Before his face and eyes, since thence distill'd

Tears uncontain'd; which he obscur'd, in fear

To let th' observing presence note a tear.

But, when his sacred song the mere divine

Had giv'n an end, a goblet crown'd with wine

Ulysses, drying his wet eyes, did seize,

And sacrific'd to those Gods that would please

T' inspire the poet with a song so fit

To do him honour, and renown his wit.

His tears then stay'd. But when again began,

By all the kings' desires, the moving man,

Again Ulysses could not choose but yield

To that soft passion, which again, withheld,

He kept so cunningly from sight, that none,

Except Alcinous himself alone,

Discern'd him mov'd so much. But he sat next,

And heard him deeply sigh; which his pretext

Could not keep hid from him. Yet he conceal'd

His utt'rance of it, and would have it held

From all the rest, brake off the song, and this

Said to those oar-affecting peers of his:

"Princes, and peers! We now are satiate

With sacred song that fits a feast of state,

With wine and food. Now then to field, and try

In all kinds our approv'd activity,

That this our guest may give his friends to know,

In his return, that we as little owe

To fights and wrastlings, leaping, speed-of race,

As these our court-rites; and commend our grace

In all to all superior." Forth he led,

The peers and people troop'd up to their head.

Nor must Demodocus be left within;

Whose harp the herald hung upon the pin,

His hand in his took, and abroad he brought

The heav'nly poet, out the same way wrought

That did the princes, and what they would see

With admiration, with his company

They wish'd to honour. To the place of game

These throng'd; and after routs of other came,

Of all sort, infinite. Of youths that strove,

Many and strong rose to their trial's love.

Up rose Acroneus, and Ocyalus,

Elatreus, Prymneus, and Anchialus,

Nauteus, Eretmeus, Thoen, Proreüs,

Pontëus, and the strong Amphialus

Son to Tectonides Polyneüs.

Up rose to these the great Euryalus,

In action like the Homicide of War.

Naubolides, that was for person far

Past all the rest, but one he could not pass,

Nor any thought improve, Laodamas.

Up Anabesinëus then arose;

And three sons of the Sceptre-state, and those

Were Halius, the fore-prais'd Laodamas,

And Clytonëus like a God in grace.

These first the foot-game tried, and from the lists

Took start together. Up the dust in mists

They hurl'd about, as in their speed they flew;

But Clytonëus first of all the crew

A stitch's length in any fallow field

Made good his pace; when, where the judges yield

The prize and praise, his glorious speed arriv'd.

Next, for the boist'rous wrastling game they striv'd;

At which Euryalus the rest outshone.

At leap Amphialus, At the hollow stone

Elatreüs excell'd. At buffets, last,

Laodamas, the king's fair son, surpast.

When all had striv'd in these assays their fill,

Laodamas said: "Come friends, let's prove what skill

This stranger hath attain'd to in our sport.

Methinks, he must be of the active sort,

His calves, thighs, hands, and well-knit shoulders show

That Nature disposition did bestow

To fit with fact their form. Nor wants he prime.

But sour affliction, made a mate with time,

Makes time the more seen. Nor imagine I,

A worse thing to enforce debility

Than is the sea, though nature ne'er so strong

Knits one together." "Nor conceive you wrong,"

Replied Euryalus, "but prove his blood

With what you question." In the midst then stood

Renown'd Laodamas, and prov'd him thus:

"Come, stranger-father, and assay with us

Your pow'rs in these contentions. If your show

Be answer'd with your worth, 'tis fit that you

Should know these conflicts. Nor doth glory stand

On any worth more, in a man's command,

Than to be strenuous both of foot and hand.

Come then, make proof with us, discharge your mind

Of discontentments; for not far behind

Comes your deduction, ship is ready now,

And men, and all things." "Why," said he, "dost thou

Mock me, Laodamas, and these strifes bind

My pow'rs to answer? I am more inclin'd

To cares than conflict. Much sustain'd I have,

And still am suff'ring. I come here to crave,

In your assemblies, means to be dismist,

And pray both kings and subjects to assist."

Euryalus an open brawl began,

And said: "I take you, sir, for no such man

As fits these honour'd strifes. A number more

Strange men there are that I would choose before.

To one that loves to lie aship-board much,

Or is the prince of sailors; or to such

As traffic far and near, and nothing mind

But freight, and passage, and a foreright wind;

Or to a victualler of a ship; or men

That set up all their pow'rs for rampant gain;

I can compare, or hold you like to be:

But, for a wrastler, or of quality

Fit for contentions noble, you abhor

From worth of any such competitor."

Ulysses, frowning, answer'd: "Stranger, far

Thy words are from the fashions regular

Of kind, or honour. Thou art in thy guise

Like to a man that authors injuries.

I see, the Gods to all men give not all

Manly addiction, wisdom, words that fall,

Like dice, upon the square still. Some man takes

Ill form from parents, but God often makes

That fault of form up with observ'd repair

Of pleasing speech, that makes him held for fair,

That makes him speak securely, makes him shine

In an assembly with a grace divine.

Men take delight to see how ev'nly lie

His words asteep in honey modesty.

Another, then, hath fashion like a God,

But in his language he is foul and broad.

And such art thou. A person fair is giv'n,

But nothing else is in thee sent from heav'n;

For in thee lurks a base and earthy soul,

And t' hast compell'd me, with a speech most foul,

To be thus bitter. I am not unseen

In these fair strifes, as thy words overween,

But in the first rank of the best I stand;

At least I did, when youth and strength of hand

Made me thus confident, but now am worn

With woes and labours, as a human born

To bear all anguish. Suffer'd much I have.

The war of men, and the inhuman wave,

Have I driv'n through at all parts. But with all

My waste in suff'rance, what yet may fall

In my performance, at these strifes I'll try.

Thy speech hath mov'd, and made my wrath run high."

This said, with robe and all, he grasp'd a stone,

A little graver than was ever thrown

By these Phæacians in their wrastling rout,

More firm, more massy; which, turn'd round about,

He hurried from him with a hand so strong

It sung, and flew, and over all the throng,

That at the others' marks stood, quite it went;

Yet down fell all beneath it, fearing spent

The force that drave it flying from his hand,

As it a dart were, or a walking wand;

And far past all the marks of all the rest

His wing stole way; when Pallas straight imprest

A mark at fall of it, resembling then

One of the navy-giv'n Phæacian men,

And thus advanc'd Ulysses: "One, though blind,

O stranger, groping, may thy stone's fall find,

For not amidst the rout of marks it fell,

But far before all. Of thy worth think well,

And stand in all strifes. No Phæacian here

This bound can either better or come near."

Ulysses joy'd to hear that one man yet

Us'd him benignly, and would truth abet

In those contentions; and then thus smooth

He took his speech down: "Reach me that now, youth,

You shall, and straight I think, have one such more,

And one beyond it too. And now, whose core

Stands sound and great within him, since ye have

Thus put my spleen up, come again and brave

The guest ye tempted, with such gross disgrace,

At wrastling, buffets, whirlbat, speed o' race;

At all, or either, I except at none,

But urge the whole state of you; only one,

I will not challenge in my forced boast,

And that's Laodamas, for he's mine host.

And who will fight, or wrangle, with his friend?

Unwise he is, and base, that will contend

With him that feeds him in a foreign place;

And takes all edge off from his own sought grace.

None else except I here, nor none despise,

But wish to know, and prove his faculties,

That dares appear now. No strife ye can name

Am I unskill'd in; reckon any game

Of all that are, as many as there are

In use with men. For archery I dare

Affirm myself not mean. Of all a troop

I'll make the first foe with mine arrow stoop,

Though with me ne'er so many fellows bend

Their bows at mark'd men, and affect their end.

Only was Philoctetes with his bow

Still my superior, when we Greeks would show

Our archery against our foes of Troy.

But all, that now by bread frail life enjoy,

I far hold my inferiors. Men of old,

None now alive shall witness me so bold,

To vaunt equality with, such men as these,

Œchalián Eurytus, Hercules,

Who with their bows durst with the Gods contend;

And therefore caught Eurytus soon his end,

Nor died at home, in age, a rev'rend man.

But by the great incenséd Delphian

Was shot to death, for daring competence

With him in all an archer's excellence.

A spear I'll hurl as far as any man

Shall shoot a shaft. How at a race I can

Bestir my feet, I only yield to fear,

And doubt to meet with my superior here.

So many seas so too much have misus'd

My limbs for race, and therefore have diffus'd

A dissolution through my lovéd knees."

This said, he still'd all talking properties.

Alcinous only answer'd: "O my guest,

In good part take we what you have been prest

With speech to answer. You would make appear

Your virtues therefore, that will still shine where

Your only look is. Yet must this man give

Your worth ill language; when, he does not live

In sort of mortals (whencesoe'er he springs,

That judgment hath to speak becoming things)

That will deprave your virtues. Note then now

My speech, and what my love presents to you,

That you may tell heroës, when you come

To banquet with your wife and birth at home,

(Mindful of our worth) what deservings Jove

Hath put on our parts likewise, in remove

From sire to son, as an inherent grace

Kind, and perpetual. We must needs give place

To other countrymen, and freely yield

We are not blameless in our fights of field,

Buffets, nor wrastlings; but in speed of feet,

And all the equipage that fits a fleet,

We boast us best; for table ever spread

With neighbour feasts, for garments varied,

For poesy, music, dancing, baths, and beds.

And now, Phæacians, you that bear your heads

And feet with best grace in enamouring dance,

Enflame our guest here, that he may advance

Our worth past all the world's to his home-friends,

As well for the unmatch'd grace that commends.

Your skill in footing of a dance, as theirs

That fly a race best. And so, all affairs,

At which we boast us best, he best may try,

As sea-race, land-race, dance, and poesy.

Some one with instant speed to court retire,

And fetch Demodocus's soundful lyre."

This said the God-grac'd king; and quick resort

Pontonous made for that fair harp to court.

Nine of the lot-choos'd public rulers rose,

That all in those contentions did dispose,

Commanding a most smooth ground, and a wide,

And all the people in fair game aside.

Then with the rich harp came Pontonous,

And in the midst took place Demodocus.

About him then stood forth the choice young men,

That on man's first youth made fresh entry then,

Had art to make their natural motion sweet,

And shook a most divine dance from their feet,

That twinkled star-like, mov'd as swift, and fine,

And beat the air so thin, they made it shine.

Ulysses wonder'd at it, but amaz'd

He stood in mind to hear the dance so phras'd.

For, as they danc'd, Demodocus did sing,

The bright-crown'd Venus' love with Battle's King;

As first they closely mix'd in th' house of fire.

What worlds of gifts won her to his desire,

Who then the night-and-day-bed did defile

Of good king Vulcan. But in little while

The Sun their mixture saw, and came and told.

The bitter news did by his ears take hold

Of Vulcan's heart. Then to his forge he went,

And in his shrewd mind deep stuff did invent.

His mighty anvil in the stock he put,

And forg'd a net that none could loose or cut,

That when it had them it might hold them fast.

Which having finish'd, he made utmost haste

Up to the dear room where his wife he woo'd,

And, madly wrath with Mars, he all bestrow'd

The bed, and bed-posts, all the beam above

That cross'd the chamber; and a circle strove

Of his device to wrap in all the room.

And 'twas as pure, as of a spider's loom

The woof before 'tis wov'n. No man nor God

Could set his eye on it, a sleight so odd

His art show'd in it. All his craft bespent

About the bed, he feign'd as if he went

To well-built Lemnos, his most lovéd town

Of all towns earthly; nor left this unknown

To golden-bridle-using Mars, who kept

No blind watch over him, but, seeing stept

His rival so aside, he hasted home

With fair-wreath'd Venus' love stung, who was come

New from the court of her most mighty Sire.

Mars enter'd, wrung her hand, and the retire

Her husband made to Lemnos told, and said;

"Now, love, is Vulcan gone, let us to bed,

He's for the barbarous Sintians." Well appay'd

Was Venus with it; and afresh assay'd

Their old encounter. Down they went; and straight

About them cling'd the artificial sleight

Of most wise Vulcan; and were so ensnar'd,

That neither they could stir their course prepar'd

In any limb about them, nor arise.

And then they knew, they would no more disguise

Their close conveyance, but lay, forc'd, stone-still.

Back rush'd the both-foot-cook'd, but straight in skill,

From his near scout-hole turn'd, nor ever went

To any Lemnos, but the sure event

Left Phœbus to discover, who told all.

Then home hopp'd Vulcan, full of grief and gall,

Stood in the portal, and cried out so high,

That all the Gods heard; "Father of the sky,

And ev'ry other deathless God," said he,

"Come all, and a ridiculous object see,

And yet not sufferable neither. Come,

And witness how, when still I step from home,

Lame that I am, Jove's daughter doth profess

To do me all the shameful offices,

Indignities, despites, that can be thought;

And loves this all-things-making-come-to-nought,

Since he is fair forsooth, foot-sound, and I

Took in my brain a little, legg'd awry.

And no fault mine, but all my parent's fault,

Who should not get, if mock me, with my halt.

But see how fast they sleep, while I, in moan,

Am only made an idle looker on.

One bed their turn serves, and it must be mine;

I think yet, I have made their self-loves shine.

They shall no more wrong me, and none perceive;

Nor will they sleep together, I believe,

With too hot haste again. Thus both shall lie

In craft, and force, till the extremity

Of all the dow'r I gave her sire (to gain

A doggéd set-fac'd girl, that will not stain

Her face with blushing, though she shame her head)

He pays me back. She's fair, but was no maid."

While this long speech was making, all were come

To Vulcan's wholly-brazen-founded home,

Earth-shaking Neptune, useful Mercury,

And far-shot Phœbus. No She-Deity,

For shame, would show there. All the give-good Gods

Stood in the portal, and past periods

Gave length to laughters, all rejoic'd to see

That which they said, that no impiety

Finds good success at th' end. "And now," said one,

"The slow outgoes the swift. Lame Vulcan, known

To be the slowest of the Gods, outgoes

Mars the most swift. And this is that which grows

To greatest justice: that adult'ry's sport,

Obtain'd by craft, by craft of other sort

(And lame craft too) is plagued, which grieves the more,

That sound limbs turning lame the lame restore."

This speech amongst themselves they entertain'd,

When Phœbus thus ask'd Hermes: "Thus enchain'd

Wouldst thou be, Hermes, to be thus disclos'd?

Though with thee golden Venus were repos'd?"

He soon gave that an answer: "O," said he,

"Thou king of archers, would 'twere thus with me!

Though thrice so much shame; nay, though infinite

Were pour'd about me, and that ev'ry light,

In great heav'n shining, witness'd all my harms,

So golden Venus slumber'd in mine arms."

The Gods again laugh'd; even the Watery State

Wrung out a laughter, but propitiate

Was still for Mars, and pray'd the God of Fire

He would dissolve him, off'ring the desire

He made to Jove to pay himself, and said,

All due debts should be by the Gods repaid.

"Pay me, no words," said he, "where deeds lend pain,

Wretched the words are giv'n for wretched men.

How shall I bind you in th' Immortals' sight,

If Mars be once loos'd, nor will pay his right?"

"Vulcan," said he, "if Mars should fly, nor see

Thy right repaid, it should be paid by me."

"Your word, so giv'n, I must accept," said he.

Which said, he loos'd them. Mars then rush'd from sky,

And stoop'd cold Thrace. The laughing Deity

For Cyprus was, and took her Paphian state,

Where she a grove, ne'er cut, had consecrate,

All with Arabian odours fum'd, and hath

An altar there, at which the Graces bathe,

And with immortal balms besmooth, her skin,

Fit for the bliss Immortals solace in;

Deck'd her in to-be-studiéd attire,

And apt to set beholders' hearts on fire.

This sung the sacred muse, whose notes and words

The dancers' feet kept as his hands his chords.

Ulysses much was pleas'd, and all the crew.

This would the king have varied with a new

And pleasing measure, and performéd by

Two, with whom none would strive in dancery;

And those his sons were, that must therefore dance

Alone, and only to the harp advance,

Without the words. And this sweet couple was

Young Halius, and divine Laodamas;

Who danc'd a ball-dance. Then the rich-wrought ball,

That Polybus had made, of purple all,

They took to hand. One threw it to the sky,

And then danc'd back; the other, capering high,

Would surely catch it ere his foot touch'd ground,

And up again advanc'd it, and so found

The other cause of dance; and then did he

Dance lofty tricks, till next it came to be

His turn to catch, and serve the other still.

When they had kept it up to either's will,

They then danc'd ground tricks, oft mix'd hand in hand,

And did so gracefully their change command,

That all the other youth that stood at pause,

With deaf'ning shouts, gave them the great applause.

Then said Ulysses: "O, past all men here

Clear, not in pow'r, but in desert as clear,

You said your dancers did the world surpass,

And they perform it clear, and to amaze."

This won Alcinous' heart, and equal prize

He gave Ulysses, saying: "Matchless wise,

Princes and rulers, I perceive our guest,

And therefore let our hospitable best

In fitting gifts be giv'n him: Twelve chief kings

There are that order all the glorious things

Of this our kingdom; and, the thirteenth, I

Exist, as crown to all. Let instantly

Be thirteen garments giv'n him, and of gold

Precious, and fine, a talent. While we hold

This our assembly, be all fetch'd, and giv'n,

That to our feast prepar'd, as to his heav'n,

Our guest may enter. And, that nothing be

Left unperform'd that fits his dignity,

Euryalus shall here conciliate

Himself with words and gifts, since past our rate

He gave bad language." This did all commend

And give in charge; and ev'ry king did send

His herald for his gift. Euryalus,

Answ'ring for his part, said: "Alcinous!

Our chief of all, since you command, I will

To this our guest by all means reconcile,

And give him this entirely-metall'd sword,

The handle massy silver, and the board,

That gives it cover, all of ivory,

New, and in all kinds worth his quality."

This put he straight into his hand, and said:

"Frolic, O guest and father; if words fled

Have been offensive, let swift whirlwinds take

And ravish them from thought. May all Gods make

Thy wife's sight good to thee, in quick retreat

To all thy friends, and best-lov'd breeding seat,

Their long miss quitting with the greater joy;

In whose sweet vanish all thy worst annoy."

"And frolic thou to all height, friend," said he,

"Which heav'n confirm with wish'd felicity;

Nor ever give again desire to thee

Of this sword's use, which with affects so free,

In my reclaim, thou hast bestow'd on me."

This said, athwart his shoulders he put on

The right fair sword; and then did set the sun.

When all the gifts were brought, which back again

(With king Alcinous in all the train)

Were by the honour'd heralds borne to court;

Which his fair sons took, and from the resort

Laid by their rev'rend mother. Each his throne

Of all the peers (which yet were overshone

In king Alcinous' command) ascended;

Whom he to pass as much in gifts contended,

And to his queen said: "Wife! See brought me here

The fairest cabinet I have, and there

Impose a well-cleans'd in, and utter, weed.

A caldron heat with water, that with speed

Our guest well-bath'd, and all his gifts made sure,

It may a joyful appetite procure

To his succeeding feast, and make him hear

The poet's hymn with the securer ear.

To all which I will add my bowl of gold,

In all frame curious, to make him hold

My memory always dear, and sacrifice

With it at home to all the Deities."

Then Arete her maids charg'd to set on

A well-siz'd caldron quickly. Which was done,

Clear water pour'd in, flame made so entire,

It gilt the brass, and made the water fire.

In mean space, from her chamber brought the queen

A wealthy cabinet, where, pure and clean,

She put the garments, and the gold bestow'd

By that free state, and then the other vow'd

By her Alcinous, and said: "Now, guest,

Make close and fast your gifts, lest, when you rest

Aship-board sweetly, in your way you meet

Some loss, that less may make your next sleep sweet."

This when Ulysses heard, all sure he made

Enclos'd and bound safe; for the saving trade

The rev'rend-for-her-wisdom, Circe, had

In foreyears taught him. Then the handmaid bad

His worth to bathing; which rejoic'd his heart,

For, since he did with his Calypso part,

He had no hot baths; none had favour'd him,

Nor been so tender of his kingly limb.

But all the time he spent in her abode,

He liv'd respected as he were a God.

Cleans'd then and balm'd, fair shirt and robe put on,

Fresh come from bath, and to the feasters gone,

Nausicaa, that from the Gods' hands took

The sov'reign beauty of her blessed look,

Stood by a well-carv'd column of the room,

And through her eye her heart was overcome

With admiration of the port imprest

In his aspéct, and said: "God save you, guest!

Be cheerful, as in all the future state

Your home will show you in your better fate.

But yet, ev'n then, let this remember'd be,

Your life's price I lent, and you owe it me."

The varied-in-all-counsels gave reply:

"Nausicaa! Flow'r of all this empery!

So Juno's husband, that the strife for noise

Makes in the clouds, bless me with strife of joys,

In the desir'd day that my house shall show,

As I, as I to a Goddess there shall vow,

To thy fair hand that did my being give,

Which I'll acknowledge ev'ry hour I live."

This said, Alcinous plac'd him by his side.

Then took they feast, and did in parts divide

The sev'ral dishes, fill'd out wine, and then

The striv'd-for-for-his-worth of worthy men,

And rev'renc'd-of-the-state, Demodocus

Was brought in by the good Pontonous.

In midst of all the guests they gave him place,

Against a lofty pillar, when this grace

The grac'd-with-wisdom did him: From the chine,

That stood before him, of a white-tooth'd swine,

Being far the daintiest joint, mix'd through with fat,

He carv'd to him, and sent it where he sat

By his old friend the herald, willing thus:

"Herald, reach this to grave Demodocus,

Say, I salute him, and his worth embrace.

Poets deserve, past all the human race,

Rev'rend respect and honour, since the queen

Of knowledge, and the supreme worth in men,

The Muse, informs them, and loves all their race."

This reach'd the herald to him, who the grace

Receiv'd encourag'd; which, when feast was spent,

Ulysses amplified to this ascent:

"Demodocus! I must prefer you far,

Past all your sort, if, or the Muse of war,

Jove's daughter, prompts you, that the Greeks respects,

Or if the Sun, that those of Troy affects.

For I have heard you, since my coming, sing

The fate of Greece to an admiréd string.

How much our suff'rance was, how much we wrought,

How much the actions rose-to when we fought.

So lively forming, as you had been there,

Or to some free relater lent your ear.

Forth then, and sing the wooden horse's frame,

Built by Epëus, by the martial Dame

Taught the whole fabric; which, by force of sleight,

Ulysses brought into the city's height,

When he had stuff'd it with as many men

As levell'd lofty Ilion with the plain.

With all which if you can as well enchant,

As with expression quick and elegant

You sung the rest, I will pronounce you clear

Inspir'd by God, past all that ever were."

This said, ev'n stirr'd by God up, he began,

And to his song fell, past the forms of man,

Beginning where the Greeks aship-board went,

And ev'ry chief had set on fire his tent,

When th' other kings, in great Ulysses' guide,

In Troy's vast market place the horse did hide,

From whence the Trojans up to Ilion drew

The dreadful engine. Where sat all arew

Their kings about it; many counsels giv'n

How to dispose it. In three ways were driv'n

Their whole distractions. First, if they should feel

The hollow wood's heart, search'd with piercing steel;

Or from the battlements drawn higher yet

Deject it headlong; or that counterfeit

So vast and novel set on sacred fire,

Vow'd to appease each anger'd Godhead's ire.

On which opinion, they, thereafter, saw,

They then should have resolv'd; th' unalter'd law

Of fate presaging, that Troy then should end,

When th' hostile horse she should receive to friend,

For therein should the Grecian kings lie hid,

To bring the fate and death they after did.

He sung, besides, the Greeks' eruptión

From those their hollow crafts, and horse foregone;

And how they made depopulation tread

Beneath her feet so high a city's head.

In which affair, he sung in other place,

That of that ambush some man else did race

The Ilion tow'rs than Laertiades;

But here he sung, that he alone did seize,

With Menelaus, the ascended roof

Of prince Deiphobus, and Mars-like proof

Made of his valour, a most dreadful fight

Daring against him; and there vanquish'd quite,

In little time, by great Minerva's aid,

All Ilion's remnant, and Troy level laid.

This the divine expressor did so give

Both act and passion, that he made it live,

And to Ulysses' facts did breathe a fire

So deadly quick'ning, that it did inspire

Old death with life, and render'd life so sweet,

And passionate, that all there felt it fleet;

Which made him pity his own cruelty,

And put into that ruth so pure an eye

Of human frailty, that to see a man

Could so revive from death, yet no way can

Defend from death, his own quick pow'rs it made

Feel there death's horrors, and he felt life fade,

In tears his feeling brain swet; for, in things

That move past utt'rance, tears ope all their springs.

Nor are there in the pow'rs that all life bears

More true interpreters of all than tears.

And as a lady mourns her sole-lov'd lord,

That fall'n before his city by the sword,

Fighting to rescue from a cruel fate

His town and children, and in dead estate

Yet panting seeing him, wraps him in her arms,

Weeps, shrieks, and pours her health into his arms,

Lies on him, striving to become his shield

From foes that still assail him, spears impell'd

Through back and shoulders, by whose points embrued,

They raise and lead him into servitude,

Labour, and languor; for all which the dame

Eats down her cheeks with tears, and feeds life's flame

With miserable suff'rance; so this king

Of tear-swet anguish op'd a boundless spring;

Nor yet was seen to any one man there

But king Alcinous, who sat so near

He could not 'scape him, sighs, so chok'd, so brake

From all his tempers; which the king did take

Both note and grave respect of, and thus spake:

"Hear me, Phæacian councillors and peers,

And cease Demodocus; perhaps all ears

Are not delighted with his song, for, ever

Since the divine Muse sung, our guest hath never

Contain'd from secret mournings. It may fall,

That something sung he hath been grieved with all,

As touching his particular. Forbear,

That feast may jointly comfort all hearts here,

And we may cheer our guest up; 'tis our best

In all due honour. For our rev'rend guest

Is all our celebration, gifts, and all,

His love hath added to our festival.

A guest, and suppliant too, we should esteem

Dear as our brother, one that doth but dream

He hath a soul, or touch but at a mind

Deathless and manly, should stand so inclin'd.

Nor cloak you longer with your curious wit,

Lov'd guest, what ever we shall ask of it.

It now stands on your honest state to tell,

And therefore give your name, nor more conceal

What of your parents, and the town that bears

Name of your native, or of foreigners

That near us border, you are call'd in fame.

There's no man living walks without a name,

Noble nor base, but had one from his birth

Impos'd as fit as to be borne. What earth,

People, and city, own you, give to know.

Tell but our ships all, that your way must show.

For our ships know th' expressed minds of men,

And will so most intentively retain

Their scopes appointed, that they never err,

And yet use never any man to steer,

Nor any rudders have, as others need.

They know men's thoughts, and whither tends their speed,

And there will set them; for you cannot name

A city to them, nor fat soil, that Fame

Hath any notice giv'n, but well they know,

And they will fly to them, though they ebb and flow

In blackest clouds and nights; and never bear

Of any wrack or rock the slend'rest fear.

But this I heard my sire Nausithous say.

Long since, that Neptune, seeing us convey

So safely passengers of all degrees,

Was angry with us; and upon our seas

A well-built ship we had, near harbour come

From safe deduction of some stranger home,

Made in his flitting billows stick stone still;

And dimm'd our city, like a mighty hill

With shade cast round about it. This report,

The old king made; in which miraculous sort,

If God had done such things, or left undone,

At his good pleasure be it. But now, on,

And truth relate us, both whence you err'd,

And to what clime of men would be transferr'd,

With all their fair towns, be they as they are,

If rude, unjust, and all irregular,

Or hospitable, bearing minds that please

The mighty Deity. Which one of these

You would be set at, say, and you are there.

And therefore what afflicts you? Why, to hear

The fate of Greece and Ilion, mourn you so?

The Gods have done it; as to all they do

Destine destruction, that from thence may rise

A poem to instruct posterities.

Fell any kinsman before Ilion?

Some worthy sire-in-law, or like-near son,

Whom next our own blood and self-race we love?

Or any friend perhaps, in whom did move

A knowing soul, and no unpleasing thing?

Since such a good one is no underling

To any brother; for, what fits true friends,

True wisdom is, that blood and birth transcends."