Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  And, on the tenth dark night, the rolling flood 380

  Immense convey'd me to Thesprotia's shore.

  There me the Hero Phidon, gen'rous King

  Of the Thesprotians, freely entertained;

  For his own son discov'ring me with toil

  Exhausted and with cold, raised me, and thence

  Led me humanely to his father's house,

  Who cherish'd me, and gave me fresh attire.

  There heard I of Ulysses, whom himself

  Had entertain'd, he said, on his return

  To his own land; he shew'd me also gold, 390

  Brass, and bright steel elab'rate, whatsoe'er

  Ulysses had amass'd, a store to feed

  A less illustrious family than his

  To the tenth generation, so immense

  His treasures in the royal palace lay.

  Himself, he said, was to Dodona gone,

  There, from the tow'ring oaks of Jove to ask

  Counsel divine, if openly to land

  (After long absence) in his opulent realm

  Of Ithaca, be best, or in disguise. 400

  To me the monarch swore, in his own hall

  Pouring libation, that the ship was launch'd,

  And the crew ready for his conduct home.

  But me he first dismiss'd, for, as it chanced,

  A ship lay there of the Thesprotians, bound

  To green Dulichium's isle. He bade the crew

  Bear me to King Acastus with all speed;

  But them far other thoughts pleased more, and thoughts

  Of harm to me, that I might yet be plunged

  In deeper gulphs of woe than I had known. 410

  For, when the billow-cleaving bark had left

  The land remote, framing, combined, a plot

  Against my liberty, they stripp'd my vest

  And mantle, and this tatter'd raiment foul

  Gave me instead, which thy own eyes behold.

  At even-tide reaching the cultur'd coast

  Of Ithaca, they left me bound on board

  With tackle of the bark, and quitting ship

  Themselves, made hasty supper on the shore.

  But me, meantime, the Gods easily loos'd 420

  By their own pow'r, when, with wrapper vile

  Around my brows, sliding into the sea

  At the ship's stern, I lay'd me on the flood.

  With both hands oaring thence my course, I swam

  Till past all ken of theirs; then landing where

  Thick covert of luxuriant trees I mark'd,

  Close couchant down I lay; they mutt'ring loud,

  Paced to and fro, but deeming farther search

  Unprofitable, soon embark'd again.

  Thus baffling all their search with ease, the Gods 430

  Conceal'd and led me thence to the abode

  Of a wise man, dooming me still to live.

  To whom, Eumæus, thou didst thus reply,

  Alas! my most compassionable guest!

  Thou hast much moved me by this tale minute

  Of thy sad wand'rings and thy num'rous woes.

  But, speaking of Ulysses, thou hast pass'd

  All credence; I at least can give thee none.

  Why, noble as thou art, should'st thou invent

  Palpable falsehoods? as for the return 440

  Of my regretted Lord, myself I know

  That had he not been hated by the Gods

  Unanimous, he had in battle died

  At Troy, or (that long doubtful war, at last,

  Concluded,) in his people's arms at home.

  Then universal Greece had raised his tomb,

  And he had even for his son atchiev'd

  Immortal glory; but alas! by beaks

  Of harpies torn, unseemly sight, he lies.

  Here is my home the while; I never seek 450

  The city, unless summon'd by discrete

  Penelope to listen to the news

  Brought by some stranger, whencesoe'er arrived.

  Then, all, alike inquisitive, attend,

  Both who regret the absence of our King,

  And who rejoice gratuitous to gorge

  His property; but as for me, no joy

  Find I in list'ning after such reports,

  Since an Ætolian cozen'd me, who found

  (After long wand'ring over various lands 460

  A fugitive for blood) my lone retreat.

  Him warm I welcom'd, and with open arms

  Receiv'd, who bold affirm'd that he had seen

  My master with Idomeneus at Crete

  His ships refitting shatter'd by a storm,

  And that in summer with his godlike band

  He would return, bringing great riches home,

  Or else in autumn. And thou ancient guest

  Forlorn! since thee the Gods have hither led,

  Seek not to gratify me with untruths 470

  And to deceive me, since for no such cause

  I shall respect or love thee, but alone

  By pity influenced, and the fear of Jove.

  To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.

  Thou hast, in truth, a most incredulous mind,

  Whom even with an oath I have not moved,

  Or aught persuaded. Come then--let us make

  In terms express a cov'nant, and the Gods

  Who hold Olympus, witness to us both!

  If thy own Lord at this thy house arrive, 480

  Thou shalt dismiss me decently attired

  In vest and mantle, that I may repair

  Hence to Dulichium, whither I would go.

  But, if thy Lord come not, then, gath'ring all

  Thy servants, headlong hurl me from a rock,

  That other mendicants may fear to lie.

  To whom the generous swine-herd in return.

  Yes, stranger! doubtless I should high renown

  Obtain for virtue among men, both now

  And in all future times, if, having first 490

  Invited thee, and at my board regaled,

  I, next, should slay thee; then my pray'rs would mount,

  Past question, swiftly to Saturnian Jove.

  But the hour calls to supper, and, ere long,

  The partners of my toils will come prepared

  To spread the board with no unsav'ry cheer.

  Thus they conferr'd. And now the swains arrived,

  Driving their charge, which fast they soon enclosed

  Within their customary penns, and loud

  The hubbub was of swine prison'd within. 500

  Then call'd the master to his rustic train.

  Bring ye the best, that we may set him forth

  Before my friend from foreign climes arrived,

  With whom ourselves will also feast, who find

  The bright-tusk'd multitude a painful charge,

  While others, at no cost of theirs, consume

  Day after day, the profit of our toils.

  So saying, his wood for fuel he prepared,

  And dragging thither a well-fatted brawn

  Of the fifth year his servants held him fast 510

  At the hearth-side. Nor failed the master swain

  T' adore the Gods, (for wise and good was he)

  But consecration of the victim, first,

  Himself performing, cast into the fire

  The forehead bristles of the tusky boar,

  Then pray'd to all above, that, safe, at length,

  Ulysses might regain his native home.

  Then lifting an huge shive that lay beside

  The fire, he smote the boar, and dead he fell,

  Next, piercing him, and scorching close his hair, 520

  They carv'd him quickly, and Eumæus spread

  Thin slices crude taken from ev'ry limb

  O'er all his fat, then other slices cast,

  Sprinkling them first with meal, into the fire.

  The rest they slash'd and scored, and roasted well,r />
  And placed it, heap'd together, on the board.

  Then rose the good Eumæus to his task

  Of distribution, for he understood

  The hospitable entertainer's part.

  Sev'n-fold partition of the banquet made, 530

  He gave, with previous pray'r, to Maia's son

  And to the nymphs one portion of the whole,

  Then served his present guests, honouring first

  Ulysses with the boar's perpetual chine;

  By that distinction just his master's heart

  He gratified, and thus the Hero spake.

  Eumæus! be thou as belov'd of Jove

  As thou art dear to me, whom, though attired

  So coarsely, thou hast served with such respect!

  To whom, Eumæus, thou didst thus reply. 540

  Eat, noble stranger! and refreshment take

  Such as thou may'st; God gives, and God denies

  At his own will, for He is Lord of all.

  He said, and to the everlasting Gods

  The firstlings sacrificed of all, then made

  Libation, and the cup placed in the hands

  Of city-spoiler Laertiades

  Sitting beside his own allotted share.

  Meantime, Mesaulius bread dispensed to all,

  Whom, in the absence of his Lord, himself 550

  Eumæus had from Taphian traders bought

  With his own proper goods, at no expence

  Either to old Laertes or the Queen.

  And now, all stretch'd their hands toward the feast

  Reeking before them, and when hunger none

  Felt more or thirst, Mesaulius clear'd the board.

  Then, fed to full satiety, in haste

  Each sought his couch. Black came a moonless night,

  And Jove all night descended fast in show'rs,

  With howlings of the ever wat'ry West. 560

  Ulysses, at that sound, for trial sake

  Of his good host, if putting off his cloak

  He would accommodate him, or require

  That service for him at some other hand,

  Addressing thus the family, began.

  Hear now, Eumæus, and ye other swains

  His fellow-lab'rers! I shall somewhat boast,

  By wine befool'd, which forces ev'n the wise

  To carol loud, to titter and to dance,

  And words to utter, oft, better suppress'd. 570

  But since I have begun, I shall proceed,

  Prating my fill. Ah might those days return

  With all the youth and strength that I enjoy'd,

  When in close ambush, once, at Troy we lay!

  Ulysses, Menelaus, and myself

  Their chosen coadjutor, led the band.

  Approaching to the city's lofty wall

  Through the thick bushes and the reeds that gird

  The bulwarks, down we lay flat in the marsh,

  Under our arms, then Boreas blowing loud, 580

  A rueful night came on, frosty and charged

  With snow that blanch'd us thick as morning rime,

  And ev'ry shield with ice was crystall'd o'er.

  The rest with cloaks and vests well cover'd, slept

  Beneath their bucklers; I alone my cloak,

  Improvident, had left behind, no thought

  Conceiving of a season so severe;

  Shield and belt, therefore, and nought else had I.

  The night, at last, nigh spent, and all the stars

  Declining in their course, with elbow thrust 590

  Against Ulysses' side I roused the Chief,

  And thus address'd him ever prompt to hear.

  Laertes' noble son, for wiles renown'd!

  I freeze to death. Help me, or I am lost.

  No cloak have I; some evil dæmon, sure,

  Beguil'd me of all prudence, that I came

  Thus sparely clad; I shall, I must expire.

  So I; he, ready as he was in arms

  And counsel both, the remedy at once

  Devised, and thus, low-whisp'ring, answer'd me. 600

  Hush! lest perchance some other hear--He said,

  And leaning on his elbow, spake aloud.

  My friends! all hear--a monitory dream

  Hath reach'd me, for we lie far from the ships.

  Haste, therefore, one of you, with my request

  To Agamemnon, Atreus' son, our Chief,

  That he would reinforce us from the camp.

  He spake, and at the word, Andræmon's son

  Thoas arose, who, casting off his cloak,

  Ran thence toward the ships, and folded warm 610

  Within it, there lay I till dawn appear'd.

  Oh for the vigour of such youth again!

  Then, some good peasant here, either for love

  Or for respect, would cloak a man like me,

  Whom, now, thus sordid in attire ye scorn.

  To whom, Eumæus, thou didst thus reply.

  My ancient guest! I cannot but approve

  Thy narrative, nor hast thou utter'd aught

  Unseemly, or that needs excuse. No want

  Of raiment, therefore, or of aught beside 620

  Needful to solace penury like thine,

  Shall harm thee here; yet, at the peep of dawn

  Gird thy own tatters to thy loins again;

  For _we_ have no great store of cloaks to boast,

  Or change of vests, but singly one for each.

  But when Ulysses' son shall once arrive,

  He will himself with vest and mantle both

  Cloath thee, and send thee whither most thou would'st.

  So saying, he rose, and nearer made his couch

  To the hearth-side, spreading it thick with skins 630

  Of sheep and goats; then lay the Hero down,

  O'er whom a shaggy mantle large he threw,

  Which oft-times served him with a change, when rough

  The winter's blast and terrible arose.

  So was Ulysses bedded, and the youths

  Slept all beside him; but the master-swain

  Chose not his place of rest so far remote

  From his rude charge, but to the outer court

  With his nocturnal furniture, repair'd,

  Gladd'ning Ulysses' heart that one so true 640

  In his own absence kept his rural stores.

  Athwart his sturdy shoulders, first, he flung

  His faulchion keen, then wrapp'd him in a cloak

  Thick-woven, winter-proof; he lifted, next,

  The skin of a well-thriven goat, in bulk

  Surpassing others, and his javelin took

  Sharp-pointed, with which dogs he drove and men.

  Thus arm'd, he sought his wonted couch beneath

  A hollow rock where the herd slept, secure

  From the sharp current of the Northern blast. 650

  FOOTNOTES:

  Δῖος ὑφορβος.--The swineherd's was therefore in those days, and in

  that country, an occupation honourable as well as useful. Barnes deems

  the epithet δῖος significant of his noble birth. Vide Clarke in loco.

  It may be proper to suggest that Ulysses was lord of part of the

  continent opposite to Ithaca--viz.--of the peninsula Nericus or Leuca,

  which afterward became an island, and is now called Santa Maura. F.

  Mercury.

  Θεος--without a relative, and consequently signifying GOD in the

  abstract, is not unfrequently found in Homer, though fearing to give

  offence to serious minds unacquainted with the original, I have not

  always given it that force in the translation. But here, the sentiment is

  such as fixes the sense intended by the author with a precision that

  leaves no option. It is observable too, that δυναται γαρ απαντα--is an

  ascription of power such as the poet never makes to his Jupiter.


  BOOK XV

  ARGUMENT

  Telemachus, admonished by Minerva, takes leave of Menelaus, but ere he

  sails, is accosted by Theoclymenos, a prophet of Argos, whom at his

  earnest request he takes on board. In the meantime Eumæus relates to

  Ulysses the means by which he came to Ithaca. Telemachus arriving there,

  gives orders for the return of his bark to the city, and repairs himself

  to Eumæus.

  Meantime to Lacedæmon's spacious vale

  Minerva went, that she might summon thence

  Ulysses' glorious son to his own home.

  Arrived, she found Telemachus reposed

  And Nestor's son beneath the vestibule

  Of Menelaus, mighty Chief; she saw

  Pisistratus in bands of gentle sleep

  Fast-bound, but not Telemachus; his mind

  No rest enjoy'd, by filial cares disturb'd

  Amid the silent night, when, drawing near 10

  To his couch side, the Goddess thus began.

  Thou canst no longer prudently remain

  A wand'rer here, Telemachus! thy home

  Abandon'd, and those haughty suitors left

  Within thy walls; fear lest, partition made

  Of thy possessions, they devour the whole,

  And in the end thy voyage bootless prove.

  Delay not; from brave Menelaus ask

  Dismission hence, that thou may'st find at home

  Thy spotless mother, whom her brethren urge 20

  And her own father even now to wed

  Eurymachus, in gifts and in amount

  Of proffer'd dow'r superior to them all.

  Some treasure, else, shall haply from thy house

  Be taken, such as thou wilt grudge to spare.

  For well thou know'st how woman is disposed;

  Her whole anxiety is to encrease

  His substance whom she weds; no care hath she

  Of her first children, or remembers more

  The buried husband of her virgin choice. 30

  Returning then, to her of all thy train

  Whom thou shalt most approve, the charge commit

  Of thy concerns domestic, till the Gods

  Themselves shall guide thee to a noble wife.

  Hear also this, and mark it. In the frith

  Samos the rude, and Ithaca between,

  The chief of all her suitors thy return

  In vigilant ambush wait, with strong desire

  To slay thee, ere thou reach thy native shore,

  But shall not, as I judge, till the earth hide 40

  Many a lewd reveller at thy expence.

  Yet, steer thy galley from those isles afar,

  And voyage make by night; some guardian God

  Shall save thee, and shall send thee prosp'rous gales.