by Homer
that a Translator seems free to choose. It has, however, a proverbial
turn, which I have endeavoured to preserve, and have adopted the sense of
the words which appears best to accord with what immediately follows.
Vulcan pleads his own inability to enforce the demand, as a circumstance
that made Neptune's promise unacceptable.
BOOK IX
ARGUMENT
Ulysses discovers himself to the Phæacians, and begins the history of his
adventures. He destroys Ismarus, city of the Ciconians; arrives among the
Lotophagi; and afterwards at the land of the Cyclops. He is imprisoned by
Polypheme in his cave, who devours six of his companions; intoxicates the
monster with wine, blinds him while he sleeps, and escapes from him.
Then answer, thus, Ulysses wise return'd.
Alcinoüs! King! illustrious above all
Phæacia's sons, pleasant it is to hear
A bard like this, sweet as the Gods in song.
The world, in my account, no sight affords
More gratifying than a people blest
With cheerfulness and peace, a palace throng'd
With guests in order ranged, list'ning to sounds
Melodious, and the steaming tables spread
With plenteous viands, while the cups, with wine 10
From brimming beakers fill'd, pass brisk around.
No lovelier sight know I. But thou, it seems,
Thy thoughts hast turn'd to ask me whence my groans
And tears, that I may sorrow still the more.
What first, what next, what last shall I rehearse,
On whom the Gods have show'r'd such various woes?
Learn first my name, that even in this land
Remote I may be known, and that escaped
From all adversity, I may requite
Hereafter, this your hospitable care 20
At my own home, however distant hence.
I am Ulysses, fear'd in all the earth
For subtlest wisdom, and renown'd to heaven,
The offspring of Laertes; my abode
Is sun-burnt Ithaca; there waving stands
The mountain Neritus his num'rous boughs,
And it is neighbour'd close by clust'ring isles
All populous; thence Samos is beheld,
Dulichium, and Zacynthus forest-clad.
Flat on the Deep she lies, farthest removed 30
Toward the West, while, situate apart,
Her sister islands face the rising day;
Rugged she is, but fruitful nurse of sons
Magnanimous; nor shall these eyes behold,
Elsewhere, an object dear and sweet as she.
Calypso, beauteous Goddess, in her grot
Detain'd me, wishing me her own espoused;
Ææan Circe also, skill'd profound
In potent arts, within her palace long
Detain'd me, wishing me her own espoused; 40
But never could they warp my constant mind.
So much our parents and our native soil
Attract us most, even although our lot
Be fair and plenteous in a foreign land.
But come--my painful voyage, such as Jove
Gave me from Ilium, I will now relate.
From Troy the winds bore me to Ismarus,
City of the Ciconians; them I slew,
And laid their city waste; whence bringing forth
Much spoil with all their wives, I portion'd it 50
With equal hand, and each received a share.
Next, I exhorted to immediate flight
My people; but in vain; they madly scorn'd
My sober counsel, and much wine they drank,
And sheep and beeves slew num'rous on the shore.
Meantime, Ciconians to Ciconians call'd,
Their neighbours summoning, a mightier host
And braver, natives of the continent,
Expert, on horses mounted, to maintain
Fierce fight, or if occasion bade, on foot. 60
Num'rous they came as leaves, or vernal flow'rs
At day-spring. Then, by the decree of Jove,
Misfortune found us. At the ships we stood
Piercing each other with the brazen spear,
And till the morning brighten'd into noon,
Few as we were, we yet withstood them all;
But, when the sun verged westward, then the Greeks
Fell back, and the Ciconian host prevail'd.
Six warlike Greecians from each galley's crew
Perish'd in that dread field; the rest escaped. 70
Thus, after loss of many, we pursued
Our course, yet, difficult as was our flight,
Went not till first we had invoked by name
Our friends, whom the Ciconians had destroy'd.
But cloud-assembler Jove assail'd us soon
With a tempestuous North-wind; earth alike
And sea with storms he overhung, and night
Fell fast from heav'n. Their heads deep-plunging oft
Our gallies flew, and rent, and rent again
Our tatter'd sail-cloth crackled in the wind. 80
We, fearing instant death, within the barks
Our canvas lodg'd, and, toiling strenuous, reach'd
At length the continent. Two nights we lay
Continual there, and two long days, consumed
With toil and grief; but when the beauteous morn
Bright-hair'd, had brought the third day to a close,
(Our masts erected, and white sails unfurl'd)
Again we sat on board; meantime, the winds
Well managed by the steersman, urged us on.
And now, all danger pass'd, I had attain'd 90
My native shore, but, doubling in my course
Malea, waves and currents and North-winds
Constrain'd me devious to Cythera's isle.
Nine days by cruel storms thence was I borne
Athwart the fishy Deep, but on the tenth
Reach'd the Lotophagi, a race sustain'd
On sweetest fruit alone. There quitting ship,
We landed and drew water, and the crews
Beside the vessels took their ev'ning cheer.
When, hasty, we had thus our strength renew'd, 100
I order'd forth my people to inquire
(Two I selected from the rest, with whom
I join'd an herald, third) what race of men
Might there inhabit. They, departing, mix'd
With the Lotophagi; nor hostile aught
Or savage the Lotophagi devised
Against our friends, but offer'd to their taste
The lotus; of which fruit what man soe'er
Once tasted, no desire felt he to come
With tidings back, or seek his country more, 110
But rather wish'd to feed on lotus still
With the Lotophagi, and to renounce
All thoughts of home. Them, therefore, I constrain'd
Weeping on board, and dragging each beneath
The benches, bound him there. Then, all in haste,
I urged my people to ascend again
Their hollow barks, lest others also, fed
With fruit of lotus, should forget their home.
They quick embark'd, and on the benches ranged
In order, thresh'd with oars the foamy flood. 120
Thence, o'er the Deep proceeding sad, we reach'd
The land at length, where, giant-sized and free
From all constraint of law, the Cyclops dwell.
They, trusting to the Gods, plant not, or plough,
But earth unsow'd, untill'd, brings forth for them
All fruits, wheat, barley, and the vinous grape
Large cluster'd, nourish'd by the show'rs of Jove.
No councils they convene, no laws contrive,
But in
deep caverns dwell, found on the heads
Of lofty mountains, judging each supreme 130
His wife and children, heedless of the rest.
In front of the Cyclopean haven lies
A level island, not adjoining close
Their land, nor yet remote, woody and rude.
There, wild goats breed numberless, by no foot
Of man molested; never huntsman there,
Inured to winter's cold and hunger, roams
The dreary woods, or mountain-tops sublime;
No fleecy flocks dwell there, nor plough is known,
But the unseeded and unfurrow'd soil, 140
Year after year a wilderness by man
Untrodden, food for blatant goats supplies.
For no ships crimson-prow'd the Cyclops own,
Nor naval artizan is there, whose toil
Might furnish them with oary barks, by which
Subsists all distant commerce, and which bear
Man o'er the Deep to cities far remote
Who might improve the peopled isle, that seems
Not steril in itself, but apt to yield,
In their due season, fruits of ev'ry kind. 150
For stretch'd beside the hoary ocean lie
Green meadows moist, where vines would never fail;
Light is the land, and they might yearly reap
The tallest crops, so unctuous is the glebe.
Safe is its haven also, where no need
Of cable is or anchor, or to lash
The hawser fast ashore, but pushing in
His bark, the mariner might there abide
Till rising gales should tempt him forth again.
At bottom of the bay runs a clear stream 160
Issuing from a cove hemm'd all around
With poplars; down into that bay we steer'd
Amid the darkness of the night, some God
Conducting us; for all unseen it lay,
Such gloom involved the fleet, nor shone the moon
From heav'n to light us, veil'd by pitchy clouds.
Hence, none the isle descried, nor any saw
The lofty surge roll'd on the strand, or ere
Our vessels struck the ground; but when they struck,
Then, low'ring all our sails, we disembark'd, 170
And on the sea-beach slept till dawn appear'd.
Soon as Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
Look'd rosy forth, we with admiring eyes
The isle survey'd, roaming it wide around.
Meantime, the nymphs, Jove's daughters, roused the goats
Bred on the mountains, to supply with food
The partners of my toils; then, bringing forth
Bows and long-pointed javelins from the ships,
Divided all into three sep'rate bands
We struck them, and the Gods gave us much prey. 180
Twelve ships attended me, and ev'ry ship
Nine goats received by lot; myself alone
Selected ten. All day, till set of sun,
We eating sat goat's flesh, and drinking wine
Delicious, without stint; for dearth was none
Of ruddy wine on board, but much remain'd,
With which my people had their jars supplied
What time we sack'd Ciconian Ismarus.
Thence looking forth toward the neighbour-land
Where dwell the Cyclops, rising smoke we saw, 190
And voices heard, their own, and of their flocks.
Now sank the sun, and (night o'ershadowing all)
We slept along the shore; but when again
The rosy-finger'd daughter of the dawn
Look'd forth, my crews convened, I thus began.
Companions of my course! here rest ye all,
Save my own crew, with whom I will explore
This people, whether wild, they be, unjust,
And to contention giv'n, or well-disposed
To strangers, and a race who fear the Gods. 200
So speaking, I embark'd, and bade embark
My followers, throwing, quick, the hawsers loose.
They, ent'ring at my word, the benches fill'd
Well-ranged, and thresh'd with oars the foamy flood.
Attaining soon that neighbour-land, we found
At its extremity, fast by the sea,
A cavern, lofty, and dark-brow'd above
With laurels; in that cavern slumb'ring lay
Much cattle, sheep and goats, and a broad court
Enclosed it, fenced with stones from quarries hewn, 210
With spiry firs, and oaks of ample bough.
Here dwelt a giant vast, who far remote
His flocks fed solitary, converse none
Desiring, sullen, savage, and unjust.
Monster, in truth, he was, hideous in form,
Resembling less a man by Ceres' gift
Sustain'd, than some aspiring mountain-crag
Tufted with wood, and standing all alone.
Enjoining, then, my people to abide
Fast by the ship which they should closely guard, 220
I went, but not without a goat-skin fill'd
With sable wine which I had erst received
From Maron, offspring of Evanthes, priest
Of Phœbus guardian god of Ismarus,
Because, through rev'rence of him, we had saved
Himself, his wife and children; for he dwelt
Amid the grove umbrageous of his God.
He gave me, therefore, noble gifts; from him
Sev'n talents I received of beaten gold,
A beaker, argent all, and after these 230
No fewer than twelve jars with wine replete,
Rich, unadult'rate, drink for Gods; nor knew
One servant, male or female, of that wine
In all his house; none knew it, save himself,
His wife, and the intendant of his stores.
Oft as they drank that luscious juice, he slaked
A single cup with twenty from the stream,
And, even then, the beaker breath'd abroad
A scent celestial, which whoever smelt,
Thenceforth no pleasure found it to abstain. 240
Charged with an ample goat-skin of this wine
I went, and with a wallet well supplied,
But felt a sudden presage in my soul
That, haply, with terrific force endued,
Some savage would appear, strange to the laws
And privileges of the human race.
Few steps convey'd us to his den, but him
We found not; he his flocks pastur'd abroad.
His cavern ent'ring, we with wonder gazed
Around on all; his strainers hung with cheese 250
Distended wide; with lambs and kids his penns
Close-throng'd we saw, and folded separate
The various charge; the eldest all apart,
Apart the middle-aged, and the new-yean'd
Also apart. His pails and bowls with whey
Swam all, neat vessels into which he milk'd.
Me then my friends first importuned to take
A portion of his cheeses, then to drive
Forth from the sheep-cotes to the rapid bark
His kids and lambs, and plow the brine again. 260
But me they moved not, happier had they moved!
I wish'd to see him, and to gain, perchance,
Some pledge of hospitality at his hands,
Whose form was such, as should not much bespeak
When he appear'd, our confidence or love.
Then, kindling fire, we offer'd to the Gods,
And of his cheeses eating, patient sat
Till home he trudged from pasture. Charged he came
With dry wood bundled, an enormous load
Fuel by which to sup. Loud crash'd the thorns 270
Which down he cast before the cavern's mouth,
To whose interior nooks we tremblin
g flew.
At once he drove into his spacious cave
His batten'd flock, all those which gave him milk,
But all the males, both rams and goats, he left
Abroad, excluded from the cavern-yard.
Upheaving, next, a rocky barrier huge
To his cave's mouth, he thrust it home. That weight
Not all the oxen from its place had moved
Of twenty and two wains; with such a rock 280
Immense his den he closed. Then down he sat,
And as he milk'd his ewes and bleating goats
All in their turns, her yeanling gave to each;
Coagulating, then, with brisk dispatch,
The half of his new milk, he thrust the curd
Into his wicker sieves, but stored the rest
In pans and bowls--his customary drink.
His labours thus perform'd, he kindled, last,
His fuel, and discerning _us_, enquired,
Who are ye, strangers? from what distant shore 290
Roam ye the waters? traffic ye? or bound
To no one port, wander, as pirates use,
At large the Deep, exposing life themselves,
And enemies of all mankind beside?
He ceased; we, dash'd with terrour, heard the growl
Of his big voice, and view'd his form uncouth,
To whom, though sore appall'd, I thus replied.
Of Greece are we, and, bound from Ilium home,
Have wander'd wide the expanse of ocean, sport
For ev'ry wind, and driven from our course, 300
Have here arrived; so stood the will of Jove.
We boast ourselves of Agamemnon's train,
The son of Atreus, at this hour the Chief
Beyond all others under heav'n renown'd,
So great a city he hath sack'd and slain
Such num'rous foes; but since we reach, at last,
Thy knees, we beg such hospitable fare,
Or other gift, as guests are wont to obtain.
Illustrious lord! respect the Gods, and us
Thy suitors; suppliants are the care of Jove 310
The hospitable; he their wrongs resents
And where the stranger sojourns, there is he.
I ceas'd, when answer thus he, fierce, return'd.
Friend! either thou art fool, or hast arrived
Indeed from far, who bidd'st me fear the Gods
Lest they be wroth. The Cyclops little heeds
Jove Ægis-arm'd, or all the Pow'rs of heav'n.
Our race is mightier far; nor shall myself,
Through fear of Jove's hostility, abstain
From thee or thine, unless my choice be such. 320
But tell me now. Where touch'd thy gallant bark
Our country, on thy first arrival here?
Remote or nigh? for I would learn the truth.