On you be ev’ry bliss; and ev’ry day,
In home-felt joys, delighted roll away:
Yourselves, your wives, your long-descending race,
May ev’ry God enrich with ev’ry grace!
Sure fix’d on virtue may your nation stand, 60
And public evil never touch the land!’
His words well weigh’d, the gen’ral voice approv’d
Benign, and instant his dismission mov’d.
The Monarch to Pontonoüs gave the sign,
To fill the goblet high with rosy wine: 65
‘Great Jove the Father first’ (he cried) ‘implore;
Then send the stranger to his native shore.’
The luscious wine th’ obedient herald brought;
Around the mansion flow’d the purple draught;
Each from his seat to each immortal pours, 70
Whom glory circles in th’ Olympian bowers.
Ulysses sole with air majestic stands,
The bowl presenting to Aretè’s hands;
Then thus: ‘O Queen, farewell! be still possess’d
Of dear remembrance, blessing still and bless’d! 75
Till age and death shall gently call thee hence
(Sure fate of ev’ry mortal excellence).
Farewell! and joys successive ever spring
To thee, to thine, the people and the King!’
Thus he: then parting prints the sandy shore 80
To the fair port: a herald march’d before,
Sent by Alcinoüs; of Aretè’s train
Three chosen maids attend him to the main:
This does a tunic and white vest convey,
A various casket that, of rich inlay, 85
And bread and wine the third. The cheerful mates
Safe in the hollow poop dispose the cates:
Upon the deck soft painted robes they spread,
With linen cover’d, for the hero’s bed.
He climb’d the lofty stern; then gently press’d 90
The swelling couch, and lay composed to rest.
Now placed in order, the Phæacian train
Their cables loose, and launch into the main:
At once they bend, and strike their equal oars,
And leave the sinking hills and less’ning shores. 95
While on the deck the Chief in silence lies,
And pleasing slumbers steal upon his eyes.
As fiery coursers in the rapid race
Urged by fierce drivers thro’ the dusty space,
Toss their high heads, and scour along the plain; 100
So mounts the bounding vessel o’er the main.
Back to the stern the parted billows flow,
And the black ocean foams and roars below.
Thus with spread sails the winged galley flies;
Less swift an eagle cuts the liquid skies; 105
Divine Ulysses was her sacred load,
A man in wisdom equal to a God!
Much danger, long and mighty toils he bore,
In storms by sea, and combats on the shore:
All which soft sleep now banish’d from his breast, 110
Wrapp’d in a pleasing, deep, and deathlike rest.
But when the morning-star with early ray
Flamed in the front of Heav’n, and promis’d day,
Like distant clouds the mariner descries
Fair Ithaca’s emerging hills arise. 115
Far from the town a spacious port appears,
Sacred to Phorcy’s power, whose name it bears:
Two craggy rocks, projecting to the main,
The roaring wind’s tempestuous rage restrain;
Within, the waves in softer murmurs glide, 120
And ships secure without their halsers ride.
High at the head a branching olive grows,
And crowns the pointed cliffs with shady boughs.
Beneath, a gloomy grotto’s cool recess
Delights the Nereids of the neighb’ring seas, 125
Where bowls and urns were form’d of living stone,
And massy beams in native marble shone:
On which the labours of the Nymphs were roll’d,
Their webs divine of purple mix’d with gold.
Within the cave the clust’ring bees attend 130
Their waxen works, or from the roof depend.
Perpetual waters o’er the pavement glide;
Two marble doors unfold on either side;
Sacred the south, by which the Gods descend;
But mortals enter at the northern end. 135
Thither they bent, and haul’d their ship to land
(The crooked keel divides the yellow sand);
Ulysses sleeping on his couch they bore,
And gently placed him on the rocky shore.
His treasures next, Alcinoüs’ gifts, they laid 140
In the wild olive’s unfrequented shade,
Secure from theft; then launch’d the bark again,
Resumed their oars, and measured back the main.
Nor yet forgot old Ocean’s dread Supreme
The vengeance vow’d for eyeless Polypheme. 145
Before the throne of mighty Jove he stood;
And sought the secret counsels of the God.
‘Shall then no more, O Sire of Gods! be mine
The rights and honours of a power divine?
Scorn’d ev’n by man, and (oh severe disgrace!) 150
By soft Phæacians, my degen’rate race!
Against yon destin’d head in vain I swore,
And menaced vengeance, ere he reach’d his shore;
To reach his natal shore was thy decree;
Mild I obey’d, for who shall war with thee? 155
Behold him landed, careless and asleep,
From all th’ eluded dangers of the deep;
Lo where he lies, amidst a shining store
Of brass, rich garments, and refulgent ore;
And bears triumphant to his native isle 160
A prize more worth than Ilion’s noble spoil.’
To whom the Father of th’ immortal Powers,
Who swells the clouds, and gladdens earth with showers:
‘Can mighty Neptune thus of man complain?
Neptune, tremendous o’er the boundless main! 165
Revered and awful ev’n in Heav’n’s abodes,
Ancient and great! a God above the Gods!
If that low race offend thy power divine,
(Weak, daring creatures!) is not vengeance thine?
Go then, the guilty at thy will chastise.’ 170
He said. The Shaker of the Earth replies:
‘This then I doom: to fix the gallant ship
A mark of vengeance on the sable deep;
To warn the thoughtless self-confiding train,
No more unlicens’d thus to brave the main. 175
Full in their port a shady hill shall rise,
If such thy will.’—’We will it,’ Jove replies.
‘Ev’n when with transport, black’ning all the strand,
The swarming people hail their ship to land,
Fix her for ever, a memorial stone: 180
Still let her seem to sail, and seem alone.
The trembling crowds shall see the sudden shade
Of whelming mountains overhang their head!’
With that the God whose earthquakes rock the ground
Fierce to Phæacia cross’d the vast profound. 185
Swift as a swallow sweeps the liquid way,
The winged pinnace shot along the sea.
The God arrests her with a sudden stroke,
And roots her down an everlasting rock.
Aghast the Scherians stand in deep surprise; 190
All press to speak, all question with their eyes.
‘What hands unseen the rapid bark restrain?
And yet it swims, or seems to swim, the main!’
Thus they, unconscious of the dee
d divine:
Till great Alcinoüs, rising, own’d the sign. 195
‘Behold the long-predestin’d day!’ (he cries);
‘O certain faith of ancient prophecies!
These ears have heard my royal sire disclose
A dreadful story, big with future woes:
How, mov’d with wrath, that careless we convey 200
Promiscuous ev’ry guest to ev’ry bay,
Stern Neptune raged; and how by his command
Firm rooted in the surge a ship should stand
(A monument of wrath); and mound on mound
Should hide our walls, or whelm beneath the ground. 205
‘The Fates have follow’d as declared the seer:
Be humbled, nations! and your Monarch hear.
No more unlicens’d brave the deeps, no more
With ev’ry stranger pass from shore to shore:
On angry Neptune now for mercy call; 210
To his high name let twelve black oxen fall.
So may the God reverse his purpos’d will,
Nor o’er our city hang the dreadful hill.’
The Monarch spoke: they trembled and obey’d,
Forth on the sands the victim oxen led: 215
The gather’d tribes before the altars stand,
And Chiefs and rulers, a majestic band.
The King of Ocean all the tribes implore;
The blazing altars redden all the shore.
Meanwhile Ulysses in his country lay, 220
Releas’d from sleep, and round him might survey
The solitary shore and rolling sea.
Yet had his mind thro’ tedious absence lost
The dear resemblance of his native coast;
Besides, Minerva, to secure her care 225
Diffused around a veil of thicken’d air:
For so the Gods ordain’d, to keep unseen
His royal person from his friends and Queen:
Till the proud suitors for their crimes afford
An ample vengeance to their injured lord. 230
Now all the land another prospect bore,
Another port appear’d, another shore.
And long-continued ways, and winding floods,
And unknown mountains, crown’d with unknown woods.
Pensive and slow, with sudden grief oppress’d, 235
The King arose, and beat his careful breast,
Cast a long look o’er all the coast and main,
And sought, around, his native realm in vain:
Then with erected eyes stood fix’d in woe,
And, as he spoke, the tears began to flow: 240
‘Ye Gods’ (he cried), ‘upon what barren coast,
In what new region, is Ulysses toss’d?
Possess’d by wild barbarians, fierce in arms?
Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?
Where shall this treasure now in safety lie? 245
And whither, whither its sad owner fly?
Ah why did I Alcinoüs’ grace implore?
Ah why forsake Phæacia’s happy shore?
Some juster Prince perhaps had entertain’d,
And safe restor’d me to my native land. 250
Is this the promis’d, long-expected coast,
And this the faith Phæacia’s rulers boast?
O righteous Gods! of all the great, how few
Are just to Heav’n, and to their promise true!
But he, the Power to whose all-seeing eyes 255
The deeds of men appear without disguise,
‘T is his alone t’ avenge the wrongs I bear:
For still th’ oppress’d are his peculiar care.
To count these presents, and from thence to prove
Their faith, is mine: the rest belongs to Jove.’ 260
Then on the sands he ranged his wealthy store,
The gold, the vests, the tripods number’d o’er:
All these he found; but still, in error lost,
Disconsolate he wanders on the coast,
Sighs for his country, and laments again 265
To the deaf rocks, and hoarse resounding main.
When lo! the guardian Goddess of the Wise,
Celestial Pallas, stood before his eyes;
In show a youthful swain, of form divine,
Who seem’d descended from some princely line. 270
A graceful robe her slender body dress’d;
Around her shoulders flew the waving vest;
Her decent hand a shining jav’lin bore,
And painted sandals on her feet she wore.
To whom the King: ‘Whoe’er of human race 275
Thou art, that wander’st in this desert place,
With joy to thee, as to some God, I bend,
To thee my treasures and myself commend.
O tell a wretch in exile doom’d to stray,
What air I breathe, what country I survey? 280
The fruitful continent’s extremest bound,
Or some fair isle which Neptune’s arms surround?’
‘From what far clime’ (said she), ‘remote from Fame,
Arrivest thou here, a stranger to our name?
Thou seest an island, not to those unknown 285
Whose hills are brighten’d by the rising sun,
Nor those that placed beneath his utmost reign
Behold him sinking in the western main.
The rugged soil allows no level space
For flying chariots, or the rapid race; 290
Yet, not ungrateful to the peasant’s pain,
Suffices fulness to the swelling grain:
The loaded trees their various fruits produce,
And clust’ring grapes afford a gen’rous juice;
Woods crown our mountains, and in ev’ry grove 295
The bounding goats and frisking heifers rove:
Soft rains and kindly dews refresh the field,
And rising springs eternal verdure yield:
Ev’n to those shores in Ithaca renown’d,
Where Troy’s majestic ruins strew the ground.’ 300
At this, the Chief with transport was possess’d;
His painting heart exulted in his breast:
Yet, well dissembling his untimely joys,
And veiling truth in plausible disguise,
Thus, with an air sincere, in fiction bold, 305
His ready tale th’ inventive hero told:
‘Oft have I heard in Crete this island’s name;
For ‘t was from Crete, my native soil, I came,
Self-banish’d thence. I sail’d before the wind,
And left my children and my friends behind. 310
From fierce Idomeneus’ revenge I flew,
Whose son, the swift Orsilochus, I slew
(With brutal force he seiz’d my Trojan prey,
Due to the toils of many a bloody day).
Unseen I ‘scaped, and, favour’d by the night, 315
In a Phœnician vessel took my flight,
For Pyle or Elis bound: but tempests toss’d
And raging billows drove us on your coast.
In dead of night an unknown port we gain’d,
Spent with fatigue, and slept secure on land. 320
But ere the rosy morn renew’d the day,
While in th’ embrace of pleasing sleep I lay,
Sudden, invited by auspicious gales,
They land my goods, and hoist their flying sails.
Abandon’d here, my fortune I deplore, 325
A hapless exile on a foreign shore.’
Thus while he spoke, the Blue-eyed Maid began
With pleasing smiles to view the godlike man:
Then changed her form: an now, divinely bright,
Jove’s heav’nly daughter stood confess’d to sight: 330
Like a fair virgin in her beauty’s bloom,
Skill’d in th’ illustrious labours of the loom.
‘O still the same Ulysses!’ (she rejoin’d
)
‘In useful craft successfully refin’d!
Artful in speech, in action, and in mind! 335
Sufficed it not, that, thy long labours pass’d,
Secure thou seest thy native shores at last?
But this to me? who, like thyself, excel
In arts of counsel, and dissembling well;
To me? whose wit exceeds the Powers divine, 340
No less than mortals are surpass’d by thine.
Know’st thou not me? who made thy life my care,
Thro’ ten years’ wand’ring, and thro’ ten years’ war,
Who taught thee arts, Alcinoüs to persuade,
To raise his wonder, and engage his aid; 345
And now appear, thy treasures to protect,
Conceal thy person, thy designs direct,
And tell what more thou must from Fate expect;
Domestic woes far heavier to be borne!
The pride of fools, and slaves’ insulting scorn! 350
But thou be silent, nor reveal thy state;
Yield to the force of unresisted Fate,
And bear unmov’d the wrongs of base mankind,
The last, and hardest, conquest of the mind.’
‘Goddess of Wisdom!’ (Ithacus replies) 355
‘He who discerns thee must be truly wise,
So seldom view’d, and ever in disguise!
When the bold Argives led their warring powers
Against proud Ilion’s well-defended towers,
Ulysses was thy care, celestial Maid! 360
Graced with thy sight, and favour’d with thy aid.
But when the Trojan piles in ashes lay,
And bound for Greece we plough’d the wat’ry way,
Our fleet dispers’d and driven from coast to coast,
Thy sacred presence from that hour I lost; 365
Till I beheld thy radiant form once more,
And heard thy counsels on Phæacia’s shore.
But, by th’ Almighty Author of thy race,
Tell me, oh tell, is this my native place?
For much I fear, long tracts of land and sea 370
Divide this coast from distant Ithaca;
The sweet delusion kindly you impose,
To soothe my hopes, and mitigate my woes.’
Thus he. The Blue-eyed Goddess thus replies:
‘How prone to doubt, how cautions are the wise! 375
Who, vers’d in fortune, fear the flatt’ring show,
And taste not half the bliss the Gods bestow.
The more shall Pallas aid thy just desires,
And guard the wisdom which herself inspires.
Others, long absent from their native place, 380
Straight seek their home, and fly with eager pace
To their wives’ arms, and children’s dear embrace.
Not thus Ulysses: he decrees to prove
His subjects’ faith, and Queen’s suspected love;
Alexander Pope - Delphi Poets Series Page 133