The Iliad and the Odyssey (Classics of World Literature)

by Homer

Earth-shaking Neptune, useful Mercury,

  And far-shot Phoebus. 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 plagu’d, which grieves the more,

  That sound limbs turning lame the lame restore.’

  This speech amongst themselves they entertain’d,

  When Phoebus 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 every 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 Wat’ry State

  Wrung out a laughter, but propitiate

  Was still for Mars, and pray’d the god of fire

  He would dissolve him, offering 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 her in to-be-studied 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 pleased, and all the crew.

  This would the king have varied with a new

  And pleasing measure, and performed 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 every king did send

  His herald for his gift. Euryalus,

  Answering 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 reverend 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 outer weed.

  A cauldron 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-sized cauldron 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

  A-shipboard sweetly, in your way you meet

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

  This when Ulysses heard, all sure he made,

  Enclosed and bound safe; for the saving trade

  The reverend-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 lived 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 sovereign 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 impress’d

  In his aspect, 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! Flower 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 to a goddess there shall vow

  To thy fair hand that did my being give,

  Which I’ll acknowledge every hour I live.’

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

  Then took they feast, and did in parts divide

  The several dishes, fill’d out wine, and then

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

  And reverenc’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, mixed 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,

  Reverend 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 admired 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 Epeus, 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

  Inspired 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 form of man,

  Beginning where the Greeks a-shipboard went,

  And every 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 resolved, 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’ eruption

  From those their hollow crafts, and horse forgone;

  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 towers 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’s 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 embru’d,

  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 choked, so brake

  From all his tempers; which the king did take

  Both note and grave respect of, and thus spake:

  ‘Hear me, Phaeacian counsellors 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 griev’d withal,

  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 reverend 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