| 1 |
So
he lay there asleep, the much-enduring goodly Odysseus, overcome
with sleep and weariness; but Athene went to the land and city of
the Phaeacians. These dwelt of old in spacious Hypereia hard by
the Cyclopes, men overweening in pride who plundered them continually
and were mightier than they. From thence Nausithous, the godlike,
had removed them, and led and settled them in Scheria far from men
that live by toil. About the city he had drawn a wall, he had built
houses and made temples for the gods, and divided the ploughlands;
but he, ere now, had been stricken by fate and had gone to the house
of Hades, and Alcinous was now king, made wise in counsel by the
gods. To his house went the goddess, flashing-eyed Athene, to contrive
the return of great-hearted Odysseus. She went to a chamber, richly
wrought, wherein slept a maiden like the immortal goddesses in form
and comeliness, Nausicaa, the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous;
hard by slept two hand-maidens, gifted with beauty by the Graces,
one on either side of the door-posts, and the bright doors were
shut.
But like
a breath of air the goddess sped to the couch of the maiden, and
stood above her head, and spoke to her, taking the form of the daughter
of Dymas, famed for his ships, a girl who was of like age with Nausicaa,
and was dear to her heart. Likening herself to her, the flashing-eyed
Athene spoke and said:
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| 25 |
"Nausicaa,
how comes it that thy mother bore thee so heedless? Thy bright raiment
is lying uncared for; yet thy marriage is near at hand, when thou
must needs thyself be clad in fair garments, and give other such
to those who escort thee. It is from things like these, thou knowest,
that good report goeth up among men, and the father and honoured
mother rejoice. Nay, come, let us go to wash them at break of day,
for I will follow with thee to aid thee, that thou mayest with speed
make thee ready; for thou shalt not long remain a maiden. Even now
thou hast suitors in the land, the noblest of all the Phaeacians,
from whom is thine own lineage. Nay, come, bestir thy noble father
early this morning that he make ready mules and a waggon for thee,
to bear the girdles and robes and bright coverlets. And for thyself,
too, it is far more seemly to go thus than on foot, for the washing
tanks are far from the city."
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| 41 |
So
saying, the goddess, flashing-eyed Athene, departed to Olympus,
where, they say, is the abode of the gods that stands fast forever.
Neither is it shaken by winds nor ever wet with rain, nor does snow
fall upon it, but the air is outspread clear and cloudless, and
over it hovers a radiant whiteness. Therein the blessed gods are
glad all their days, and thither went the flashing-eyed one, when
she had spoken all her word to the maiden.
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| 48 |
At
once then came fair-throned Dawn and awakened Nausicaa of the beautiful
robes, and straightway she marvelled at her drearn, and went through
the house to tell her parents, her father dear and her mother; and
she found them both within. The mother sat at the hearth with her
handmaidens, spinning the yarn of purple dye, and her father she
met as he was going forth to join the glorious kings in the place
of council, to which the lordly Phaeacians called him. But she came
up close to her dear father, and said:
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| 57 |
"Papa
dear, wilt thou not make ready for me a waggon, high and stout of
wheel, that I may take to the river for washing the goodly raiment
of mine which is lying here soiled? Moreover for thyself it is seemly
that when thou art at council with the princes thou shouldst have
clean raiment upon thee; and thou hast five sons living in thy halls—two
are wedded, but three are sturdy bachelors—and these ever wish to
put on them freshly-washed raiment, when they go to the dance. Of
all this must I take thought."
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| 66 |
So
she spoke, for she was ashamed to name gladsome I marriage to her
father; but he understood all, and answered, saying:
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| 68 |
"Neither
the mules do I begrudge thee, my child, nor aught beside. Go thy
way; the slaves shall make ready for thee the waggon, high and stout
of wheel and fitted with a box above."
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| 71 |
With
this he called to the slaves, and they hearkened. Outside the palace
they made ready the light-running mule waggon, and led up the mules
and yoked them to it; and the maiden brought from her chamber the
bright raiment, and placed it upon the polished car, while her mother
put in a chest food of all sorts to satisfy the heart. Therein she
put dainties, and poured wine in a goat-skin flask; and the maiden
mounted upon the waggon. Her mother gave her also soft olive oil
in a flask of gold, that she and her maidens might have it for the
bath. Then Nausicaa took the whip and the bright reins, and smote
the mules to start them; and there was a clatter of the mules as
they sped on amain, bearing the raiment and the maiden; neither
went she alone, for with her went her handmaids as well.
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85 |
Now
when they came to the beautiful streams of the river, where were
the washing tanks that never failed —for abundant clear water welled
up from beneath and flowed over, to cleanse garments however soiled
—there they loosed the mules from under the waggon and drove them
along the eddying river to graze on the honey-sweet water-grass,
and themselves took in their arms the raiment from the waggon, and
bore it into the dark water, and trampled it in the trenches. busily
vying each with each. Now when they had washed the garments, and
had cleansed them of all the stains, they spread them out in rows
on the shore of the sea where the waves dashing against the land
washed the pebbles cleanest; and they, after they had bathed and
anointed themselves richly with oil, took their meal on the river's
banks, and waited for the clothing to dry in the bright sunshine.
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| 99 |
Then,
when they had had their joy of food, she and her handmaids, they
threw off their head-gear and fell to playing at ball, and white-armed
Nausicaa was leader in the song. And even as Artemis, the archer,
roves over the mountains, along the ridges of lofty Taÿgetus or
Erymanthus, joying in the pursuit |
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of
boars and swift deer, and with her sport the wood-nymphs, the daughters
of Zeus who bears the aegis, and Leto is glad at heart—high above
them all Artemis holds her head and brows, and easily may she be
known, though all are fair—so amid her handmaidens shone the maid
unwed.
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| 110 |
But
when she was about to yoke the mules, and fold the fair raiment,
in order to return homeward, then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athene,
took other counsel, that Odysseus might awake and see the fair-faced
maid, who should lead him to the city of the Phaeacians. So then
the princess tossed the ball to one of her maidens; the maiden indeed
she missed, but cast it into a deep eddy, and thereat they cried
aloud, and goodly Odysseus awoke, and sat up, and thus he pondered
in mind and heart:
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| 119 |
"Woe
is me! to the land of what mortals am I now come? Are they cruel,
and wild, and unjust? or do they love strangers and fear the gods
in their thoughts? There rang in my ears a cry as of maidens, of
nymphs who haunt the towering peaks of the mountains, the springs
that feed the rivers, and the grassy meadows! Can it be that I am
somewhere near men of human speech? Nay, I will myself make trial
and see."
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| 127 |
So
saying the goodly Odysseus came forth from beneath the bushes, and
with his stout hand he broke from the thick wood a leafy branch,
that he might hold it about him and hide therewith his nakedness.
Forth he came like a mountain-nurtured lion trusting in his might,
who goes forth, beaten with rain and wind, but his two eyes are
ablaze: into the midst of the kine he goes, or of the sheep, or
on the track of the wild deer, and his belly bids him go even into
the close-built fold, to make an attack upon the flocks. Even so
Odysseus was about to enter the company of the fair-tressed maidens,
naked though he was, for need had come upon him. But terrible did
he seem to them, all befouled with brine, and they shrank in fear,
one here, one there, along the jutting sand-spits. Alone the daughter
of Alcinous kept her place, for in her heart Athene put courage,
and took fear from her limbs. She fled not, but stood and faced
him; and Odysseus pondered whether he should clasp the knees of
the fair-faced maid, and make his prayer, or whether, standing apart
as he was, he should beseech her with gentle words, in hope that
she might show him the city and give him raiment. And, as he pondered,
it seemed to him better to stand apart and beseech her with gentle
words, lest the maiden's heart should be wroth with him if he clasped
her knees; so straightway he spoke a gentle word and crafty:
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| 149 |
"I
beseech thee, O queen,—a goddess art thou, or art thou mortal? If
thou art a goddess, one of those who hold broad heaven, to Artemis,
the daughter of great Zeus, do I liken thee most nearly in comeliness
and in stature and in form. But if thou art one of mortals who dwell
upon the earth, thrice-blessed then are thy father and thy honoured
mother, and thrice-blessed thy brethren. Full well, I ween, are
their hearts ever warmed with joy because of thee, as they see thee
entering the dance, a plant so fair. But he again is blessed in
heart above all others, who shall prevail with his gifts of wooing
and lead thee to his home.
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| 160 |
For
never yet have mine eyes looked upon a mortal such as thou, whether
man or woman; amazement holds me as I look on thee. Of a truth in
Delos once I saw such a thing, a young shoot of a palm springing
up beside the altar of Apollo—for thither, too, I went, and much
people followed with me, on that journey on which evil woes were
to be my portion;—even so, when I saw that, I marvelled long at
heart, for never yet did such a tree spring up from the earth. And
in like manner, lady, do I marvel at thee, and am amazed, and fear
greatly to touch thy knees; but sore grief has come upon me. Yesterday,
on the twentieth day, I escaped from the wine-dark sea, but ever
until then the wave and the swift winds bore me from the island
of Ogygia; and now fate has cast me ashore here, that here too,
haply, I may suffer some ill. For not yet, methinks, will my troubles
cease, but the gods ere that will bring many to pass.
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| 175 |
Nay,
O queen, have pity; for it is to thee first that I am come after
many grievous toils, and of the others who possess this city and
land I know not one. Shew me the city, and give me some rag to throw
about me, if thou hadst any wrapping for the clothes when thou camest
hither. And for thyself, may the gods grant thee all that thy heart
desires; a husband and a home may they grant thee, and oneness of
heart—a goodly gift. For nothing is greater or better than this,
when man and wife dwell in a home in one accord, a great grief to
their foes and a joy to their friends; but they know it best themselves."
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| 186 |
Then
white-armed Nausicaa answered him:
"Stranger, since thou seemest to be neither an evil man nor
a witless, and it is Zeus himself, the Olympian, that gives happy
fortune to men, both to the good and the evil, to each man as he
will; so to thee, I ween, he has given this lot, and thou must in
any case endure it. But now, since thou hast come to our city and
land, thou shalt not lack clothing or aught else of those things
which befit a sore-tried suppliant when he cometh in the way. The
city will I shew thee, and will tell thee the name of the people.
The Phaeacians possess this city and land, and I am the daughter
of great-hearted Alcinous, upon whom depend the might and power
of the Phaeacians."
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| 198 |
She
spoke, and called to her fair-tressed hand-maids:
"Stand, my maidens. Whither do ye flee at the sight of a man?
Ye do not think, surely, that he is an enemy? That mortal man lives
not, or exists nor shall ever be born who shall come to the land
of the Phaeacians as a foeman, for we are very dear to the immortals.
Far off we dwell in the surging sea, the furthermost of men, and
no other mortals have dealings with us. Nay, this is some hapless
wanderer that has come hither. Him must we now tend; for from Zeus
are all strangers and beggars, and a gift, though small, is welcome.
Come, then, my maidens, give to the stranger food and drink, and
bathe him in the river in a spot where there is shelter from the
wind."
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| 211 |
So
she spoke, and they halted and called to each other. Then they set
Odysseus in a sheltered place, as Nausicaa, the daughter of great-hearted
Alcinous, bade, and beside him they put a cloak and a tunic for
raiment, and gave him soft olive oil in the flask of gold, and bade
him bathe in the streams of the river. Then among the maidens spoke
goodly Odysseus:
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| 218 |
"Maidens,
stand yonder apart, that by myself I may wash the brine from my
shoulders, and anoint myself with olive oil; for of a truth it is
long since oil came near my skin. But in your presence will I not
bathe, for I am ashamed to make me naked in the midst of fair-tressed
maidens."
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| 223 |
So
he said, and they went apart and told the princess. But with water
from the river goodly Odysseus washed from his skin the brine which
clothed his back and broad shoulders, and from his head he wiped
the scurf of the unresting sea. But when he had washed his whole
body and anointed himself with oil, and had put on him the raiment
which the unwedded maid had given him, then Athene, the daughter
of Zeus, made him taller to look upon and mightier, and from his
head she made the locks to flow in curls like unto the hyacinth
flower. And as when a man overlays silver with gold, a cunning workman
whom Hephaestus and Pallas Athene have taught all manner of craft,
and full of grace is the work he produces, even so the goddess shed
grace upon his head and shoulders. Then he went apart and sat down
on the shore of the sea, gleaming with beauty and grace; and the
damsel marvelled at him, and spoke to her fair-tressed handmaids,
saying:
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| 239 |
"Listen,
white-armed maidens, that I may say somewhat. Not without the will
of all the gods who hold Olympus does this man come among the godlike
Phaeacians. Before he seemed to me uncouth, but now he is like the
gods, who hold broad heaven. Would that a man such as he might be
called my husband, dwelling here, and that it might please him here
to remain. But come, my maidens; give to the stranger food and drink."
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| 247 |
So
she spoke, and they readily hearkened and obeyed, and set before
Odysseus food and drink. Then verily did the much-enduring goodly
Odysseus drink and eat, ravenously; for long had he been without
taste of food.
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| 251 |
But
the white-armed Nausicaa took other counsel. She folded the raiment
and put it in the fair waggon, and yoked the stout-hoofed mules,
and mounted the car herself. Then she hailed Odysseus, and spoke
and addressed him:
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| 255 |
"Rouse
thee now, stranger, to go to the city, that I may escort thee to
the house of my wise father, where, I tell thee, thou shalt come
to know all the noblest of the Phaeacians. Only do thou thus, and,
methinks, thou dost not lack understanding: so long as we are passing
through the country and the tilled fields of men go thou quickly
with the handmaids behind the mules and the waggon, and I will lead
the way. But when we are about to enter the city, around which runs
a lofty wall, —a fair harbour lies on either side of the city and
the entrance is narrow, and curved ships are drawn up along the
road, for they all have stations for their ships, each man one for
himself. There, too, is their place of assembly about the fair temple
of Poseidon, fitted with huge stones set deep in the earth. Here
the men are busied with the tackle of their black ships, with cables
and sails, and here they shape the thin oar-blades. For the Phaeacians
care not for bow or quiver but for masts and oars of ships, and
for the shapely ships, rejoicing in which they cross over the grey
sea. It is their ungentle speech that I shun, lest hereafter some
man should taunt me, for indeed there are insolent folk in the land,
and thus might some baser fellow say, should he meet us:
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'Who
is this that follows Nausicaa, a comely man and tall, a stranger?
Where did she find him? He will doubtless be a husband for her.
Haply she has brought from his ship some wanderer of a folk that
dwell afar—for none are near us—or some god, long prayed-for, has
come down from heaven in answer to her prayers, and she will have
him as her husband all her days. Better so, even if she has herself
gone forth and found a husband from another people; for of a truth
she scorns the Phaeacians here in the land, where she has wooers
many and noble!'
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| 285 |
So
will they say, and this would become a reproach to me. Yea, I would
myself blame another maiden who should do such thing, and in despite
of her dear father and mother, while yet they live, should consort
with men before the day of open marriage.
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| 289 |
Nay,
stranger, do thou quickly hearken to my words, that with all speed
thou mayest win from my father an escort and a return to thy land.
Thou wilt find a goodly grove of Athene hard by the road, a grove
of poplar trees. In it a spring wells up, and round about is a meadow.
There is my father's park and fruitful vineyard, as far from the
city as a man's voice carries when he shouts. Sit thou down there,
and wait for a time, until we come to the city and reach the house
of my father. But when thou thinkest that we have reached the house,
then do thou go to the city of the Phaeacians and ask for the house
of my father, great-hearted Alcinous. Easily may it be known, and
a child could guide thee, a mere babe; for the houses of the Phaeacians
are no wise built of such sort as is the palace of the lord Alcinous.
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| 303 |
But
when the house and the court enclose thee, pass quickly through
the great hall, till thou comest to my mother, who sits at the hearth
in the light of the fire, spinning the purple yarn, a wonder to
behold, leaning against a pillar, and her handmaids sit behind her.
There, too, leaning against the selfsame pillar, is set the throne
of my father, whereon he sits and quaffs his wine, like unto an
immortal. Him pass thou by, and cast thy hands about my mother's
knees, that thou mayest quickly see with rejoicing the day of thy
return, though thou art come from never so far. If in her sight
thou dost win favour, then there is hope that thou wilt see thy
friends, and return to thy well-built house and unto thy native
land."
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| 316 |
So
saying, she smote the mules with the shining whip, and they quickly
left the streams of the river. Well did they trot, well did they
ply their ambling feet, and she drove with care that the maidens
and Odysseus might follow on foot, and with judgment did she ply
the lash.
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321 |
Then
the sun set, and they came to the glorious grove, sacred to Athene.
There Odysseus sat him down, and straightway prayed to the daughter
of great Zeus:
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| 324 |
"Hear
me, child of aegisbearing Zeus, unwearied one. Hearken now to my
prayer, since aforetime thou didst not hearken when I was smitten,
what time the glorious Earth-shaker smote me. Grant that I may come
to the Phaeacians as one to be welcomed and to be pitied."
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| 328 |
So
he spoke in prayer, and Pallas Athene heard him; but she did not
yet appear to him face to face, for she feared her father's brother;
but he furiously raged against godlike Odysseus, until at length
he reached his own land.
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