ὈΔΎΣΣΕΙΑ 13

Ὣς ἔφαθ', οἱ δ' ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ,
κηληθμῷ δ' ἔσχοντο κατὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα.
τὸν δ' αὖτ' Ἀλκίνοος ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε·

«ὦ Ὀδυσεῦ, ἐπεὶ ἵκευ ἐμὸν ποτὶ χαλκοβατὲς δῶ,
ὑψερεφές, τῶ σ' οὔ τι πάλιν πλαγχθέντα γ' ὀΐω
ἂψ ἀπονοστήσειν, εἰ καὶ μάλα πολλὰ πέπονθας.
ὑμέων δ' ἀνδρὶ ἑκάστῳ ἐφιέμενος τάδε εἴρω,

ὅσσοι ἐνὶ μεγάροισι γερούσιον αἴθοπα οἶνον
αἰεὶ πίνετ' ἐμοῖσιν, ἀκουάζεσθε δ' ἀοιδοῦ·
εἵματα μὲν δὴ ξείνῳ ἐϋξέστῃ ἐνὶ χηλῷ
κεῖται καὶ χρυσὸς πολυδαίδαλος ἄλλα τε πάντα
δῶρ', ὅσα Φαιήκων βουληφόροι ἐνθάδ' ἔνεικαν·
ἀλλ' ἄγε οἱ δῶμεν τρίποδα μέγαν ἠδὲ λέβητα
ἀνδρακάς, ἡμεῖς δ' αὖτε ἀγειρόμενοι κατὰ δῆμον
τεισόμεθ'· ἀργαλέον γὰρ ἕνα προικὸς χαρίσασθαι.»

ὣς ἔφατ' Ἀλκίνοος, τοῖσιν δ' ἐπιήνδανε μῦθος.
οἱ μὲν κακκείοντες ἔβαν οἶκόνδε ἕκαστος·
ἦμος δ' ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
νῆάδ' ἐπεσσεύοντο, φέρον δ' εὐήνορα χαλκόν.
καὶ τὰ μὲν εὖ κατέθηχ' ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο,
αὐτὸς ἰὼν διὰ νηός, ὑπὸ ζυγά, μή τιν' ἑταίρων
βλάπτοι ἐλαυνόντων, ὁπότε σπερχοίατ' ἐρετμοῖς·
οἱ δ' εἰς Ἀλκινόοιο κίον καὶ δαῖτ' ἀλέγυνον.

τοῖσι δὲ βοῦν ἱέρευσ' ἱερὸν μένος Ἀλκινόοιο
Ζηνὶ κελαινεφέϊ Κρονίδῃ, ὃς πᾶσιν ἀνάσσει.
μῆρα δὲ κήαντες δαίνυντ' ἐρικυδέα δαῖτα
τερπόμενοι· μετὰ δέ σφιν ἐμέλπετο θεῖος ἀοιδός,
Δημόδοκος, λαοῖσι τετιμένος. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
πολλὰ πρὸς ἠέλιον κεφαλὴν τρέπε παμφανόωντα,
δῦναι ἐπειγόμενος· δὴ γὰρ μενέαινε νέεσθαι.
ὡς δ' ὅτ' ἀνὴρ δόρποιο λιλαίεται, ᾧ τε πανῆμαρ
νειὸν ἀν' ἕλκητον βόε οἴνοπε πηκτὸν ἄροτρον·
ἀσπασίως δ' ἄρα τῷ κατέδυ φάος ἠελίοιο
δόρπον ἐποίχεσθαι, βλάβεται δέ τε γούνατ' ἰόντι·
ὣς Ὀδυσῆ' ἀσπαστὸν ἔδυ φάος ἠελίοιο.
αἶψα δὲ Φαιήκεσσι φιληρέτμοισι μετηύδα,
Ἀλκινόῳ δὲ μάλιστα πιφαυσκόμενος φάτο μῦθον·

«Ἀλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν,
πέμπετέ με σπείσαντες ἀπήμονα, χαίρετε δ' αὐτοί.
ἤδη γὰρ τετέλεσται ἅ μοι φίλος ἤθελε θυμός,
πομπὴ καὶ φίλα δῶρα, τά μοι θεοὶ Οὐρανίωνες
ὄλβια ποιήσειαν· ἀμύμονα δ' οἴκοι ἄκοιτιν
νοστήσας εὕροιμι σὺν ἀρτεμέεσσι φίλοισιν.
ὑμεῖς δ' αὖθι μένοντες ἐϋφραίνοιτε γυναῖκας
κουριδίας καὶ τέκνα· θεοὶ δ' ἀρετὴν ὀπάσειαν
παντοίην, καὶ μή τι κακὸν μεταδήμιον εἴη.»

ὣς ἔφαθ', οἱ δ' ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον ἠδ' ἐκέλευον
πεμπέμεναι τὸν ξεῖνον, ἐπεὶ κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπε.
καὶ τότε κήρυκα προσέφη μένος Ἀλκινόοιο·

«Ποντόνοε, κρητῆρα κερασσάμενος μέθυ νεῖμον
πᾶσιν ἀνὰ μέγαρον, ὄφρ' εὐξάμενοι Διὶ πατρὶ
τὸν ξεῖνον πέμπωμεν ἑὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.»

ὣς φάτο, Ποντόνοος δὲ μελίφρονα οἶνον ἐκίρνα,
νώμησεν δ' ἄρα πᾶσιν ἐπισταδόν· οἱ δὲ θεοῖσιν
ἔσπεισαν μακάρεσσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,
αὐτόθεν ἐξ ἑδρέων. ἀνὰ δ' ἵστατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
Ἀρήτῃ δ' ἐν χερσὶ τίθει δέπας ἀμφικύπελλον
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

«χαῖρέ μοι, ὦ βασίλεια, διαμπερές, εἰς ὅ κε γῆρας
ἔλθῃ καὶ θάνατος, τά τ' ἐπ' ἀνθρώποισι πέλονται.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ νέομαι· σὺ δὲ τέρπεο τῷδ' ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
παισί τε καὶ λαοῖσι καὶ Ἀλκινόῳ βασιλῆϊ.»

ὣς εἰπὼν ὑπὲρ οὐδὸν ἐβήσετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.
τῷ δ' ἅμα κήρυκα προΐει μένος Ἀλκινόοιο
ἡγεῖσθαι ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης.
Ἀρήτη δ' ἄρα οἱ δμῳὰς ἅμ' ἔπεμπε γυναῖκας,
τὴν μὲν φᾶρος ἔχουσαν ἐϋπλυνὲς ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,
τὴν δ' ἑτέρην χηλὸν πυκινὴν ἅμ' ὄπασσε κομίζειν·
ἡ δ' ἄλλη σῖτόν τ' ἔφερεν καὶ οἶνον ἐρυθρόν.

αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥ' ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,
αἶψα τά γ' ἐν νηῒ γλαφυρῇ πομπῆες ἀγαυοὶ
δεξάμενοι κατέθεντο, πόσιν καὶ βρῶσιν ἅπασαν·
κὰδ δ' ἄρ' Ὀδυσσῆϊ στόρεσαν ῥῆγός τε λίνον τε
νηὸς ἐπ' ἰκριόφιν γλαφυρῆς, ἵνα νήγρετον εὕδοι,
πρυμνῆς· ἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐβήσετο καὶ κατέλεκτο
σιγῇ· τοὶ δὲ καθῖζον ἐπὶ κληῖσιν ἕκαστοι
κόσμῳ, πεῖσμα δ' ἔλυσαν ἀπὸ τρητοῖο λίθοιο.
εὖθ' οἳ ἀνακλινθέντες ἀνεῤῥίπτουν ἅλα πηδῷ,
καὶ τῷ νήδυμος ὕπνος ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔπιπτε,
νήγρετος ἥδιστος, θανάτῳ ἄγχιστα ἐοικώς.
ἡ δ', ὥς τ' ἐν πεδίῳ τετράοροι ἄρσενες ἵπποι,
πάντες ἅμ' ὁρμηθέντες ὑπὸ πληγῇσιν ἱμάσθλης
ὑψόσ' ἀειρόμενοι ῥίμφα πρήσσουσι κέλευθον,
ὣς ἄρα τῆς πρύμνη μὲν ἀείρετο, κῦμα δ' ὄπισθεν
πορφύρεον μέγα θῦε πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης.
ἡ δὲ μάλ' ἀσφαλέως θέεν ἔμπεδον· οὐδέ κεν ἴρηξ
κίρκος ὁμαρτήσειεν, ἐλαφρότατος πετεηνῶν·
ὣς ἡ ῥίμφα θέουσα θαλάσσης κύματ' ἔταμνεν,
ἄνδρα φέρουσα θεοῖσ' ἐναλίγκια μήδε' ἔχοντα,
ὃς πρὶν μὲν μάλα πολλὰ πάθ' ἄλγεα ὃν κατὰ θυμόν,
ἀνδρῶν τε πτολέμους ἀλεγεινά τε κύματα πείρων·
δὴ τότε γ' ἀτρέμας εὗδε, λελασμένος ὅσσ' ἐπεπόνθει.

εὖτ' ἀστὴρ ὑπερέσχε φαάντατος, ὅς τε μάλιστα
ἔρχεται ἀγγέλλων φάος Ἠοῦς ἠριγενείης,
τῆμος δὴ νήσῳ προσεπίλνατο ποντοπόρος νηῦς.

Φόρκυνος δέ τίς ἐστι λιμήν, ἁλίοιο γέροντος,
ἐν δήμῳ Ἰθάκης· δύο δὲ προβλῆτες ἐν αὐτῷ
ἀκταὶ ἀποῤῥῶγες, λιμένος πότι πεπτηυῖαι,
αἵ τ' ἀνέμων σκεπόωσι δυσαήων μέγα κῦμα
ἔκτοθεν· ἔντοσθεν δέ τ' ἄνευ δεσμοῖο μένουσι
νῆες ἐΰσσελμοι, ὅτ' ἂν ὅρμου μέτρον ἵκωνται.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὶ κρατὸς λιμένος τανύφυλλος ἐλαίη,
ἀγχόθι δ' αὐτῆς ἄντρον ἐπήρατον ἠεροειδές,
ἱρὸν Νυμφάων, αἳ Νηϊάδες καλέονται.
ἐν δὲ κρητῆρές τε καὶ ἀμφιφορῆες ἔασι
λάϊνοι· ἔνθα δ' ἔπειτα τιθαιβώσσουσι μέλισσαι.
ἐν δ' ἱστοὶ λίθεοι περιμήκεες, ἔνθα τε Νύμφαι
φάρε' ὑφαίνουσιν ἁλιπόρφυρα, θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι·
ἐν δ' ὕδατ' ἀενάοντα. δύω δέ τέ οἱ θύραι εἰσίν,
αἱ μὲν πρὸς βορέαο καταιβαταὶ ἀνθρώποισιν,
αἱ δ' αὖ πρὸς νότου εἰσὶ θεώτεραι· οὐδέ τι κείνῃ
ἄνδρες ἐσέρχονται, ἀλλ' ἀθανάτων ὁδός ἐστιν.

ἔνθ' οἵ γ' εἰσέλασαν, πρὶν εἰδότες. ἡ μὲν ἔπειτα
ἠπείρῳ ἐπέκελσεν ὅσον τ' ἐπὶ ἥμισυ πάσης,
σπερχομένη· τοῖον γὰρ ἐπείγετο χέρσ' ἐρετάων.
οἱ δ' ἐκ νηὸς βάντες ἐϋζύγου ἤπειρόνδε
πρῶτον Ὀδυσσῆα γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἄειραν
αὐτῷ σύν τε λίνῳ καὶ ῥήγεϊ σιγαλόεντι,
κὰδ δ' ἄρ' ἐπὶ ψαμάθῳ ἔθεσαν δεδμημένον ὕπνῳ,
ἐκ δὲ κτήματ' ἄειραν, ἅ οἱ Φαίηκες ἀγαυοὶ
ὤπασαν οἴκαδ' ἰόντι διὰ μεγάθυμον Ἀθήνην.
καὶ τὰ μὲν οὖν παρὰ πυθμέν' ἐλαίης ἁθρόα θῆκαν
ἐκτὸς ὁδοῦ, μή πώ τις ὁδιτάων ἀνθρώπων,
πρὶν Ὀδυσῆ' ἐγρέσθαι, ἐπελθὼν δηλήσαιτο·
αὐτοὶ δ' αὖ οἶκόνδε πάλιν κίον. οὐδ' ἐνοσίχθων
λήθετ' ἀπειλάων, τὰς ἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆϊ
πρῶτον ἐπηπείλησε, Διὸς δ' ἐξείρετο βουλήν·

«Ζεῦ πάτερ, οὐκέτ' ἐγώ γε μετ' ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι
τιμήεις ἔσομαι, ὅτε με βροτοὶ οὔ τι τίουσι,
Φαίηκες, τοί πέρ τε ἐμῆς ἔξ εἰσι γενέθλης.
καὶ γὰρ νῦν Ὀδυσῆ' ἐφάμην κακὰ πολλὰ παθόντα
οἴκαδ' ἐλεύσεσθαι· - νόστον δέ οἱ οὔ ποτ' ἀπηύρων
πάγχυ, ἐπεὶ σὺ πρῶτον ὑπέσχεο καὶ κατένευσας· -
οἱ δ' εὕδοντ' ἐν νηῒ θοῇ ἐπὶ πόντον ἄγοντες
κάτθεσαν εἰν Ἰθάκῃ, ἔδοσαν δέ οἱ ἀγλαὰ δῶρα,
χαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε ἅλις ἐσθῆτά θ' ὑφαντήν,
πόλλ', ὅσ' ἂν οὐδέ ποτε Τροίης ἐξήρατ' Ὀδυσσεύς,
εἴ περ ἀπήμων ἦλθε, λαχὼν ἀπὸ ληΐδος αἶσαν.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·
«ὢ πόποι, ἐννοσίγαι' εὐρυσθενές, οἷον ἔειπες.
οὔ τί σ' ἀτιμάζουσι θεοί· χαλεπὸν δέ κεν εἴη
πρεσβύτατον καὶ ἄριστον ἀτιμίῃσιν ἰάλλειν.
ἀνδρῶν δ' εἴ πέρ τίς σε βίῃ καὶ κάρτεϊ εἴκων
οὔ τι τίει, σοὶ δ' ἐστὶ καὶ ἐξοπίσω τίσις αἰεί.
ἕρξον ὅπως ἐθέλεις καί τοι φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ.»

τὸν δ' ἠμείβετ' ἔπειτα Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων·
«αἶψά κ' ἐγὼν ἕρξαιμι, κελαινεφές, ὡς ἀγορεύεις·
ἀλλὰ σὸν αἰεὶ θυμὸν ὀπίζομαι ἠδ' ἀλεείνω.
νῦν αὖ Φαιήκων ἐθέλω περικαλλέα νῆα
ἐκ πομπῆς ἀνιοῦσαν ἐν ἠεροειδέϊ πόντῳ
ῥαῖσαι, ἵν' ἤδη σχῶνται, ἀπολλήξωσι δὲ πομπῆς
ἀνθρώπων, μέγα δέ σφιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψαι.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·
«ὦ πέπον, ὣς μὲν ἐμῷ θυμῷ δοκεῖ εἶναι ἄριστα·

ὁππότε κεν δὴ πάντες ἐλαυνομένην προΐδωνται
λαοὶ ἀπὸ πτόλιος, θεῖναι λίθον ἐγγύθι γαίης
νηῒ θοῇ ἴκελον, ἵνα θαυμάζωσιν ἅπαντες
ἄνθρωποι, μέγα δέ σφιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψαι.»

αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γ' ἄκουσε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων,
βῆ ῥ' ἴμεν ἐς Σχερίην, ὅθι Φαίηκες γεγάασιν.
ἔνθ' ἔμεν'· ἡ δὲ μάλα σχεδὸν ἤλυθε ποντοπόρος νηῦς
ῥίμφα διωκομένη. τῆς δὲ σχεδὸν ἦλθ' ἐνοσίχθων,
ὅς μιν λᾶαν ἔθηκε καὶ ἐῤῥίζωσεν ἔνερθε
χειρὶ καταπρηνεῖ ἐλάσας· ὁ δὲ νόσφι βεβήκει.

οἱ δὲ πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἔπεα πτερόεντ' ἀγόρευον
Φαίηκες δολιχήρετμοι, ναυσικλυτοὶ ἄνδρες.
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·

«ὤ μοι, τίς δὴ νῆα θοὴν ἐπέδησ' ἐνὶ πόντῳ
οἴκαδ' ἐλαυνομένην; καὶ δὴ προὐφαίνετο πᾶσα.»

ὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε· τὰ δ' οὐκ ἴσαν ὡς ἐτέτυκτο.
τοῖσιν δ' Ἀλκίνοος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπεν·

«ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δή με παλαίφατα θέσφαθ' ἱκάνει
πατρὸς ἐμοῦ, ὃς ἔφασκε Ποσειδάων' ἀγάσασθαι
ἡμῖν, οὕνεκα πομποὶ ἀπήμονές εἰμεν ἁπάντων.
φῆ ποτε Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν περικαλλέα νῆα
ἐκ πομπῆς ἀνιοῦσαν ἐν ἠεροειδέϊ πόντῳ
ῥαισέμεναι, μέγα δ' ἧμιν ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψειν.
ὣς ἀγόρευ' ὁ γέρων· τὰ δὲ δὴ νῦν πάντα τελεῖται.
ἀλλ' ἄγεθ', ὡς ἂν ἐγὼ εἴπω, πειθώμεθα πάντες·
πομπῆς μὲν παύεσθε βροτῶν, ὅτε κέν τις ἵκηται
ἡμέτερον προτὶ ἄστυ· Ποσειδάωνι δὲ ταύρους
δώδεκα κεκριμένους ἱερεύσομεν, αἴ κ' ἐλεήσῃ
μηδ' ἥμιν περίμηκες ὄρος πόλει ἀμφικαλύψῃ.»

ὣς ἔφαθ', οἱ δ' ἔδδεισαν, ἑτοιμάσσαντο δὲ ταύρους.
ὣς οἱ μέν ῥ' εὔχοντο Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι
δήμου Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,
ἑσταότες περὶ βωμόν. ὁ δ' ἔγρετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
εὕδων ἐν γαίῃ πατρωΐῃ, οὐδέ μιν ἔγνω,
ἤδη δὴν ἀπεών· περὶ γὰρ θεὸς ἠέρα χεῦε
Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διός, ὄφρα μιν αὐτὸν
ἄγνωστον τεύξειεν ἕκαστά τε μυθήσαιτο,
μή μιν πρὶν ἄλοχος γνοίη ἀστοί τε φίλοι τε,
πρὶν πᾶσαν μνηστῆρας ὑπερβασίην ἀποτεῖσαι.
τοὔνεκ' ἄρ' ἀλλοειδέα φαινέσκετο πάντα ἄνακτι,
ἀτραπιτοί τε διηνεκέες λιμένες τε πάνορμοι
πέτραι τ' ἠλίβατοι καὶ δένδρεα τηλεθάοντα.
στῆ δ' ἄρ' ἀναΐξας καί ῥ' εἴσιδε πατρίδα γαῖαν,
ᾤμωξέν τ' ἄρ' ἔπειτα καὶ ὣ πεπλήγετο μηρὼ
χερσὶ καταπρηνέσσ', ὀλοφυρόμενος δ' ἔπος ηὔδα·

«ὤ μοι ἐγώ, τέων αὖτε βροτῶν ἐς γαῖαν ἱκάνω;
ἤ ῥ' οἵ γ' ὑβρισταί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,
ἦε φιλόξεινοι καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής;
πῇ δὴ χρήματα πολλὰ φέρω τάδε; πῇ δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς
πλάγξομαι; αἴθ' ὄφελον μεῖναι παρὰ Φαιήκεσσιν
αὐτοῦ· ἐγὼ δέ κεν ἄλλον ὑπερμενέων βασιλήων
ἐξικόμην, ὅς κέν μ' ἐφίλει καὶ ἔπεμπε νέεσθαι.
νῦν δ' οὔτ' ἄρ πῃ θέσθαι ἐπίσταμαι, οὐδὲ μὲν αὐτοῦ
καλλείψω, μή πώς μοι ἕλωρ ἄλλοισι γένηται.
ὢ πόποι, οὐκ ἄρα πάντα νοήμονες οὐδὲ δίκαιοι
ἦσαν Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,
οἵ μ' εἰς ἄλλην γαῖαν ἀπήγαγον· ἦ τέ μ' ἔφαντο
ἄξειν εἰς Ἰθάκην εὐδείελον, οὐδ' ἐτέλεσσαν.
Ζεύς σφεας τείσαιτο ἱκετήσιος, ὅς τε καὶ ἄλλους
ἀνθρώπους ἐφορᾷ καὶ τείνυται, ὅς τις ἁμάρτῃ.
ἀλλ' ἄγε δὴ τὰ χρήματ' ἀριθμήσω καὶ ἴδωμαι,
μή τί μοι οἴχωνται κοίλης ἐπὶ νηὸς ἄγοντες.»

ὣς εἰπὼν τρίποδας περικαλλέας ἠδὲ λέβητας
ἠρίθμει καὶ χρυσὸν ὑφαντά τε εἵματα καλά.
τῶν μὲν ἄρ' οὔ τι πόθει· ὁ δ' ὀδύρετο πατρίδα γαῖαν
ἑρπύζων παρὰ θῖνα πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης,
πόλλ' ὀλοφυρόμενος. σχεδόθεν δέ οἱ ἦλθεν Ἀθήνη,
ἀνδρὶ δέμας εἰκυῖα νέῳ, ἐπιβώτορι μήλων,
παναπάλῳ, οἷοί τε ἀνάκτων παῖδες ἔασι,
δίπτυχον ἀμφ' ὤμοισιν ἔχουσ' εὐεργέα λώπην·
ποσσὶ δ' ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσι πέδιλ' ἔχε, χερσὶ δ' ἄκοντα.
τὴν δ' Ὀδυσεὺς γήθησεν ἰδὼν καὶ ἐναντίος ἦλθε
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

«ὦ φίλ', ἐπεί σε πρῶτα κιχάνω τῷδ' ἐνὶ χώρῳ,
χαῖρέ τε καὶ μή μοί τι κακῷ νόῳ ἀντιβολήσαις,
ἀλλὰ σάω μὲν ταῦτα, σάω δ' ἐμέ· σοὶ γὰρ ἐγώ γε
εὔχομαι ὥς τε θεῷ καί σευ φίλα γούναθ' ἱκάνω.
καί μοι τοῦτ' ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρ' ἐῢ εἰδῶ·
τίς γῆ, τίς δῆμος, τίνες ἀνέρες ἐγγεγάασιν;
ἤ πού τις νήσων εὐδείελος, ἦέ τις ἀκτὴ
κεῖθ' ἁλὶ κεκλιμένη ἐριβώλακος ἠπείροιο;»

τὸν δ' αὖτε προσέειπε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
«νήπιός εἰς, ὦ ξεῖν', ἢ τηλόθεν εἰλήλουθας,
εἰ δὴ τήνδε τε γαῖαν ἀνείρεαι. οὐδέ τι λίην
οὕτω νώνυμός ἐστιν· ἴσασι δέ μιν μάλα πολλοί,
ἠμὲν ὅσοι ναίουσι πρὸς ἠῶ τ' ἠέλιόν τε,
ἠδ' ὅσσοι μετόπισθε ποτὶ ζόφον ἠερόεντα.
ἦ τοι μὲν τρηχεῖα καὶ οὐχ ἱππήλατός ἐστιν
οὐδὲ λίην λυπρή, ἀτὰρ οὐδ' εὐρεῖα τέτυκται.
ἐν μὲν γάρ οἱ σῖτος ἀθέσφατος, ἐν δέ τε οἶνος
γίνεται· αἰεὶ δ' ὄμβρος ἔχει τεθαλυῖά τ' ἐέρση.
αἰγίβοτος δ' ἀγαθὴ καὶ βούβοτος· ἔστι μὲν ὕλη
παντοίη, ἐν δ' ἀρδμοὶ ἐπηετανοὶ παρέασι.
τῶ τοι, ξεῖν', Ἰθάκης γε καὶ ἐς Τροίην ὄνομ' ἵκει,
τήν περ τηλοῦ φασὶν Ἀχαιΐδος ἔμμεναι αἴης.»

ὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
χαίρων ᾗ γαίῃ πατρωΐῃ, ὥς οἱ ἔειπε
Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο·
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα· -
οὐδ' ὅ γ' ἀληθέα εἶπε, πάλιν δ' ὅ γε λάζετο μῦθον,
αἰὲν ἐνὶ στήθεσσι νόον πολυκερδέα νωμῶν· -

«πυνθανόμην Ἰθάκης γε καὶ ἐν Κρήτῃ εὐρείῃ,
τηλοῦ ὑπὲρ πόντου· νῦν δ' εἰλήλουθα καὶ αὐτὸς
χρήμασι σὺν τοίσδεσσι· λιπὼν δ' ἔτι παισὶ τοσαῦτα
φεύγω, ἐπεὶ φίλον υἷα κατέκτανον Ἰδομενῆος,
Ὀρσίλοχον πόδας ὠκύν, ὃς ἐν Κρήτῃ εὐρείῃ
ἀνέρας ἀλφηστὰς νίκα ταχέεσσι πόδεσσιν,
οὕνεκά με στερέσαι τῆς ληΐδος ἤθελε πάσης
Τρωϊάδος, τῆς εἵνεκ' ἐγὼ πάθον ἄλγεα θυμῷ,
ἀνδρῶν τε πτολέμους ἀλεγεινά τε κύματα πείρων,
οὕνεκ' ἄρ' οὐχ ᾧ πατρὶ χαριζόμενος θεράπευον
δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ἀλλ' ἄλλων ἦρχον ἑταίρων.
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ κατιόντα βάλον χαλκήρεϊ δουρὶ
ἀγρόθεν, ἐγγὺς ὁδοῖο λοχησάμενος σὺν ἑταίρῳ·
νὺξ δὲ μάλα δνοφερὴ κάτεχ' οὐρανόν, οὐδέ τις ἥμεας
ἀνθρώπων ἐνόησε, λάθον δέ ἑ θυμὸν ἀπούρας.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ τόν γε κατέκτανον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
αὐτίκ' ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆα κιὼν Φοίνικας ἀγαυοὺς
ἐλλισάμην καί σφιν μενοεικέα ληΐδα δῶκα·
τούς μ' ἐκέλευσα Πύλονδε καταστῆσαι καὶ ἐφέσσαι
ἢ εἰς Ἤλιδα δῖαν, ὅθι κρατέουσιν Ἐπειοί.
ἀλλ' ἦ τοί σφεας κεῖθεν ἀπώσατο ἲς ἀνέμοιο
πόλλ' ἀεκαζομένους, οὐδ' ἤθελον ἐξαπατῆσαι.
κεῖθεν δὲ πλαγχθέντες ἱκάνομεν ἐνθάδε νυκτός.
σπουδῇ δ' ἐς λιμένα προερέσσαμεν, οὐδέ τις ἥμιν
δόρπου μνῆστις ἔην μάλα περ χατέουσιν ἑλέσθαι,
ἀλλ' αὔτως ἀποβάντες ἐκείμεθα νηὸς ἅπαντες.
ἔνθ' ἐμὲ μὲν γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἐπέλλαβε κεκμηῶτα,
οἱ δὲ χρήματ' ἐμὰ γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἑλόντες
κάτθεσαν, ἔνθα περ αὐτὸς ἐπὶ ψαμάθοισιν ἐκείμην.
οἱ δ' ἐς Σιδονίην εὖ ναιομένην ἀναβάντες
ᾤχοντ'· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ λιπόμην ἀκαχήμενος ἦτορ.»

ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
χειρί τέ μιν κατέρεξε· δέμας δ' ἤϊκτο γυναικὶ
καλῇ τε μεγάλῃ τε καὶ ἀγλαὰ ἔργα ἰδυίῃ·
καί μιν φωνήσασ' ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

«κερδαλέος κ' εἴη καὶ ἐπίκλοπος, ὅς σε παρέλθοι
ἐν πάντεσσι δόλοισι, καὶ εἰ θεὸς ἀντιάσειε.
σχέτλιε, ποικιλομῆτα, δόλων ἄατ', οὐκ ἄρ' ἔμελλες,
οὐδ' ἐν σῇ περ ἐὼν γαίῃ, λήξειν ἀπατάων
μύθων τε κλοπίων, οἵ τοι πεδόθεν φίλοι εἰσίν.
ἀλλ' ἄγε μηκέτι ταῦτα λεγώμεθα, εἰδότες ἄμφω
κέρδε', ἐπεὶ σὺ μέν ἐσσι βροτῶν ὄχ' ἄριστος ἁπάντων
βουλῇ καὶ μύθοισιν, ἐγὼ δ' ἐν πᾶσι θεοῖσι
μήτι τε κλέομαι καὶ κέρδεσιν· οὐδὲ σύ γ' ἔγνως
Παλλάδ' Ἀθηναίην, κούρην Διός, ἥ τέ τοι αἰεὶ

ἐν πάντεσσι πόνοισι παρίσταμαι ἠδὲ φυλάσσω,
καὶ δέ σε Φαιήκεσσι φίλον πάντεσσιν ἔθηκα.
νῦν αὖ δεῦρ' ἱκόμην, ἵνα τοι σὺν μῆτιν ὑφήνω
χρήματά τε κρύψω, ὅσα τοι Φαίηκες ἀγαυοὶ
ὤπασαν οἴκαδ' ἰόντι ἐμῇ βουλῇ τε νόῳ τε,
εἴπω θ' ὅσσα τοι αἶσα δόμοισ' ἔνι ποιητοῖσι
κήδε' ἀνασχέσθαι· σὺ δὲ τετλάμεναι καὶ ἀνάγκῃ,
μηδέ τῳ ἐκφάσθαι μήτ' ἀνδρῶν μήτε γυναικῶν,
πάντων, οὕνεκ' ἄρ' ἦλθες ἀλώμενος, ἀλλὰ σιωπῇ
πάσχειν ἄλγεα πολλά, βίας ὑποδέγμενος ἀνδρῶν.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ἀργαλέον σε, θεά, γνῶναι βροτῷ ἀντιάσαντι
καὶ μάλ' ἐπισταμένῳ· σὲ γὰρ αὐτὴν παντὶ ἐΐσκεις.
τοῦτο δ' ἐγὼν εὖ οἶδ', ὅτι μοι πάρος ἠπίη ἦσθα,
εἷος ἐνὶ Τροίῃ πολεμίζομεν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν·
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ Πριάμοιο πόλιν διεπέρσαμεν αἰπήν,
βῆμεν δ' ἐν νήεσσι, θεὸς δ' ἐκέδασσεν Ἀχαιούς,
οὔ σ' ἔτ' ἔπειτα ἴδον, κούρη Διός, οὐδ' ἐνόησα
νηὸς ἐμῆς ἐπιβᾶσαν, ὅπως τί μοι ἄλγος ἀλάλκοις.
ἀλλ' αἰεὶ φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ἔχων δεδαϊγμένον ἦτορ
ἠλώμην, εἷός με θεοὶ κακότητος ἔλυσαν·
πρίν γ' ὅτε Φαιήκων ἀνδρῶν ἐν πίονι δήμῳ
θάρσυνάς τ' ἐπέεσσι καὶ ἐς πόλιν ἤγαγες αὐτή.
νῦν δέ σε πρὸς πατρὸς γουνάζομαι· - οὐ γὰρ ὀΐω
ἥκειν εἰς Ἰθάκην εὐδείελον, ἀλλά τιν' ἄλλην
γαῖαν ἀναστρέφομαι· σὲ δὲ κερτομέουσαν ὀΐω
ταῦτ' ἀγορευέμεναι, ἵν' ἐμὰς φρένας ἠπεροπεύῃς· -
εἰπέ μοι εἰ ἐτεόν γε φίλην ἐς πατρίδ' ἱκάνω.»

τὸν δ' ἠμείβετ' ἔπειτα θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
«αἰεί τοι τοιοῦτον ἐνὶ στήθεσσι νόημα·
τῶ σε καὶ οὐ δύναμαι προλιπεῖν δύστηνον ἐόντα,
οὕνεκ' ἐπητής ἐσσι καὶ ἀγχίνοος καὶ ἐχέφρων.
ἀσπασίως γάρ κ' ἄλλος ἀνὴρ ἀλαλήμενος ἐλθὼν
ἵετ' ἐνὶ μεγάροισ' ἰδέειν παῖδάς τ' ἄλοχόν τε·
σοὶ δ' οὔ πω φίλον ἐστὶ δαήμεναι οὐδὲ πυθέσθαι,
πρίν γ' ἔτι σῆς ἀλόχου πειρήσεαι, ἥ τέ τοι αὔτως
ἧσται ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν, ὀϊζυραὶ δέ οἱ αἰεὶ
φθίνουσιν νύκτες τε καὶ ἤματα δάκρυ χεούσῃ.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τὸ μὲν οὔ ποτ' ἀπίστεον, ἀλλ' ἐνὶ θυμῷ
ᾔδε', ὃ νοστήσεις ὀλέσας ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους·
ἀλλά τοι οὐκ ἐθέλησα Ποσειδάωνι μάχεσθαι
πατροκασιγνήτῳ, ὅς τοι κότον ἔνθετο θυμῷ,
χωόμενος ὅτι οἱ υἱὸν φίλον ἐξαλάωσας.
ἀλλ' ἄγε τοι δείξω Ἰθάκης ἕδος, ὄφρα πεποίθῃς·
Φόρκυνος μὲν ὅδ' ἐστὶ λιμήν, ἁλίοιο γέροντος,
ἥδε δ' ἐπὶ κρατὸς λιμένος τανύφυλλος ἐλαίη·
ἀγχόθι δ' αὐτῆς ἄντρον ἐπήρατον ἠεροειδές,
ἱρὸν Νυμφάων, αἳ Νηϊάδες καλέονται·
τοῦτο δέ τοι σπέος εὐρὺ κατηρεφές, ἔνθα σὺ πολλὰς
ἕρδεσκες Νύμφῃσι τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας·
τοῦτο δὲ Νήριτόν ἐστιν ὄρος καταειμένον ὕλῃ.»

ὣς εἰποῦσα θεὰ σκέδασ' ἠέρα, εἴσατο δὲ χθών·
γήθησέν τ' ἄρ' ἔπειτα πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
χαίρων ᾗ γαίῃ, κύσε δὲ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.
αὐτίκα δὲ Νύμφῃσ' ἠρήσατο χεῖρας ἀνασχών·

«Νύμφαι Νηϊάδες, κοῦραι Διός, οὔ ποτ' ἐγώ γε
ὄψεσθ' ὔμμ' ἐφάμην· νῦν δ' εὐχωλῇσ' ἀγανῇσι
χαίρετ'· ἀτὰρ καὶ δῶρα διδώσομεν, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ,
αἴ κεν ἐᾷ πρόφρων με Διὸς θυγάτηρ ἀγελείη
αὐτόν τε ζώειν καί μοι φίλον υἱὸν ἀέξῃ.»

τὸν δ' αὖτε προσέειπε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη
«θάρσει, μή τοι ταῦτα μετὰ φρεσὶ σῇσι μελόντων·
ἀλλὰ χρήματα μὲν μυχῷ ἄντρου θεσπεσίοιο
θείομεν αὐτίκα νῦν, ἵνα περ τάδε τοι σόα μίμνῃ·
αὐτοὶ δὲ φραζώμεθ', ὅπως ὄχ' ἄριστα γένηται.»

ὣς εἰποῦσα θεὰ δῦνε σπέος ἠεροειδές,
μαιομένη κευθμῶνας ἀνὰ σπέος· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἄσσον πάντ' ἐφόρει, χρυσὸν καὶ ἀτειρέα χαλκὸν
εἵματά τ' εὐποίητα, τά οἱ Φαίηκες ἔδωκαν.
καὶ τὰ μὲν εὖ κατέθηκε, λίθον δ' ἐπέθηκε θύρῃσι
Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη, κούρη Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο.

τὼ δὲ καθεζομένω ἱερῆς παρὰ πυθμέν' ἐλαίης
φραζέσθην μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισιν ὄλεθρον.
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·

«διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχαν' Ὀδυσσεῦ,
φράζευ ὅπως μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφήσεις,
οἳ δή τοι τρίετες μέγαρον κάτα κοιρανέουσι,
μνώμενοι ἀντιθέην ἄλοχον καὶ ἕδνα διδόντες·
ἡ δὲ σὸν αἰεὶ νόστον ὀδυρομένη κατὰ θυμὸν
πάντας μέν ῥ' ἔλπει καὶ ὑπίσχεται ἀνδρὶ ἑκάστῳ,
ἀγγελίας προϊεῖσα, νόος δέ οἱ ἄλλα μενοινᾷ.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο
φθείσεσθαι κακὸν οἶτον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔμελλον,
εἰ μή μοι σὺ ἕκαστα, θεά, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.
ἀλλ' ἄγε μῆτιν ὕφηνον, ὅπως ἀποτείσομαι αὐτούς·
πὰρ δέ μοι αὐτὴ στῆθι μένος πολυθαρσὲς ἐνεῖσα,
οἷον ὅτε Τροίης λύομεν λιπαρὰ κρήδεμνα.
αἴ κέ μοι ὣς μεμαυῖα παρασταίης, γλαυκῶπι,
καί κε τριηκοσίοισιν ἐγὼν ἄνδρεσσι μαχοίμην
σὺν σοί, πότνα θεά, ὅτε μοι πρόφρασσ' ἐπαρήγοις.»

τὸν δ' ἠμείβετ' ἔπειτα θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
«καὶ λίην τοι ἐγώ γε παρέσσομαι, οὐδέ με λήσεις,
ὁππότε κεν δὴ ταῦτα πενώμεθα· καί τιν' ὀΐω
αἵματί τ' ἐγκεφάλῳ τε παλαξέμεν ἄσπετον οὖδας
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, οἵ τοι βίοτον κατέδουσιν.
ἀλλ' ἄγε σ' ἄγνωστον τεύξω πάντεσσι βροτοῖσι·
κάρψω μὲν χρόα καλὸν ἐνὶ γναμπτοῖσι μέλεσσι,
ξανθὰς δ' ἐκ κεφαλῆς ὀλέσω τρίχας, ἀμφὶ δὲ λαῖφος
ἕσσω, ὅ κεν στυγέῃσιν ἰδὼν ἄνθρωπος ἔχοντα,
κνυζώσω δέ τοι ὄσσε πάρος περικαλλέ' ἐόντε,
ὡς ἂν ἀεικέλιος πᾶσι μνηστῆρσι φανήῃς
σῇ τ' ἀλόχῳ καὶ παιδί, τὸν ἐν μεγάροισιν ἔλειπες.
αὐτὸς δὲ πρώτιστα συβώτην εἰσαφικέσθαι,
ὅς τοι ὑῶν ἐπίουρος, ὁμῶς δέ τοι ἤπια οἶδε,
παῖδά τε σὸν φιλέει καὶ ἐχέφρονα Πηνελόπειαν.
δήεις τόν γε σύεσσι παρήμενον· αἱ δὲ νέμονται
πὰρ Κόρακος πέτρῃ ἐπί τε κρήνῃ Ἀρεθούσῃ,
ἔσθουσαι βάλανον μενοεικέα καὶ μέλαν ὕδωρ
πίνουσαι, τά θ' ὕεσσι τρέφει τεθαλυῖαν ἀλοιφήν.
ἔνθα μένειν καὶ πάντα παρήμενος ἐξερέεσθαι,
ὄφρ' ἂν ἐγὼν ἔλθω Σπάρτην ἐς καλλιγύναικα
Τηλέμαχον καλέουσα, τεὸν φίλον υἱόν, Ὀδυσσεῦ·
ὅς τοι ἐς εὐρύχορον Λακεδαίμονα πὰρ Μενέλαον
ᾤχετο πευσόμενος μετὰ σὸν κλέος, εἴ που ἔτ' εἴης.»

τὴν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«τίπτε τ' ἄρ' οὔ οἱ ἔειπες, ἐνὶ φρεσὶ πάντα ἰδυῖα;
ἦ ἵνα που καὶ κεῖνος ἀλώμενος ἄλγεα πάσχῃ
πόντον ἐπ' ἀτρύγετον, βίοτον δέ οἱ ἄλλοι ἔδωσι;»

τὸν δ' ἠμείβετ' ἔπειτα θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
«μὴ δή τοι κεῖνός γε λίην ἐνθύμιος ἔστω.
αὐτή μιν πόμπευον, ἵνα κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἄροιτο
κεῖσ' ἐλθών· ἀτὰρ οὔ τιν' ἔχει πόνον, ἀλλὰ ἕκηλος
ἧσται ἐν Ἀτρεΐδαο δόμοις, παρὰ δ' ἄσπετα κεῖται.
ἦ μέν μιν λοχόωσι νέοι σὺν νηῒ μελαίνῃ,
ἱέμενοι κτεῖναι, πρὶν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι·
ἀλλὰ τά γ' οὐκ ὀΐω· πρὶν καί τινα γαῖα καθέξει
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, οἵ τοι βίοτον κατέδουσιν.»

ὣς ἄρα μιν φαμένη ῥάβδῳ ἐπεμάσσατ' Ἀθήνη.
κάρψε μέν οἱ χρόα καλὸν ἐνὶ γναμπτοῖσι μέλεσσι,
ξανθὰς δ' ἐκ κεφαλῆς ὄλεσε τρίχας, ἀμφὶ δὲ δέρμα
πάντεσσιν μελέεσσι παλαιοῦ θῆκε γέροντος,
κνύζωσεν δέ οἱ ὄσσε πάρος περικαλλέ' ἐόντε·
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν ῥάκος ἄλλο κακὸν βάλεν ἠδὲ χιτῶνα,
ῥωγαλέα ῥυπόωντα, κακῷ μεμορυγμένα καπνῷ·
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν μέγα δέρμα ταχείης ἕσσ' ἐλάφοιο,
ψιλόν· δῶκε δέ οἱ σκῆπτρον καὶ ἀεικέα πήρην,
πυκνὰ ῥωγαλέην· ἐν δὲ στρόφος ἦεν ἀορτήρ.

τώ γ' ὣς βουλεύσαντε διέτμαγεν· ἡ μὲν ἔπειτα
ἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν ἔβη μετὰ παῖδ' Ὀδυσῆος.

ODYSSEY 13

So he spoke, and they all fell hushed in silence, held spellbound throughout the shadowy halls. Then in turn Alcinous answered him and spoke:

“O Odysseus, since you have come to my bronze-floored, high-roofed house, I do not think you shall again be driven wandering from your course, and be denied your homecoming, however much you have suffered. And to each man of you who is present, I say this,

all you who in my halls continually drink the elders' sparkling wine and listen to the bard: The garments for our guest lie already in a finely polished chest, with the richly wrought gold and all the other gifts that the Phaeacian counselors brought here. But come, let us each give him a great tripod and a cauldron, man by man; and we in turn will be repaid by a collection among the people, for it is hard for one man to give so generously without recompense.”

So spoke Alcinous, and his words were pleasing to them all. They went, each to his own house, to take their rest; but when the early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, they hastened to the ship, bearing the man-ennobling bronze. And the sacred might of Alcinous himself stowed it all carefully, going through the ship and placing it under the benches, so that it might not hinder any of the comrades at their rowing, when they bent to their oars. Then they went to the house of Alcinous and prepared a feast.

And for them the sacred might of Alcinous sacrificed an ox to Zeus, son of Cronos, lord of the dark clouds, who is master over all. After burning the thigh-pieces, they feasted on the glorious banquet, taking their pleasure; and among them the divine bard sang, Demodocus, who was honored by the people. But Odysseus often turned his head toward the blazing sun, eager for it to set, for he was already yearning to depart. As a man longs for his evening meal, whose pair of wine-dark oxen have drawn the jointed plough through fallow land the whole day long; and the setting of the sun is a welcome sight to him, that he may go to his repast, though his knees ache as he walks; so welcome to Odysseus was the setting of the sun's light. Straightway he spoke among the Phaeacians, lovers of the oar, and to Alcinous most of all he declared his mind and spoke:

“Lord Alcinous, most renowned of all the people, pour libations and send me on my way unharmed, and you yourselves farewell. For now all that my heart desired has been accomplished: an escort and precious gifts. May the Olympian gods make them a blessing to me; and may I find my blameless wife at home upon my return, with my dear ones safe and sound. And may you who remain here bring joy to your wedded wives and your children; and may the gods grant you excellence of every kind, and may no evil befall your people.”

So he spoke, and they all praised his words and urged that the guest be sent on his way, since he had spoken fittingly. And then the might of Alcinous spoke to his herald:

“Pontonous, mix the wine in the crater and serve it to all in the hall, so that after praying to Father Zeus, we may send our guest on to his own native land.”

So he spoke, and Pontonous mixed the honey-sweet wine, and served it to all, moving from man to man; and they poured libations to the blessed gods, who hold the wide heavens, from the seats where they sat. But godlike Odysseus rose to his feet, and placed the two-handled cup in the hands of Arete, and raising his voice, he spoke to her with winged words:

“Farewell, O Queen, for all your days, until old age and death shall come, which are the lot of all mankind. I now depart; but may you take joy in this house, with your children and your people and Alcinous the king.”

So saying, godlike Odysseus stepped over the threshold. And with him the might of Alcinous sent forth a herald to lead him to the swift ship and the shore of the sea. And Arete, for her part, sent serving-women with him: one bearing a well-washed cloak and tunic, while a second she bade follow to carry the sturdy chest; and a third carried bread and red wine.

Now when they had come down to the ship and to the sea, at once his noble escort took these things aboard the hollow ship and stowed them, all the food and drink. And for Odysseus they spread a rug and a linen sheet on the deck of the hollow ship, that he might sleep undisturbed, at the stern; and he himself went aboard and lay down in silence. The crew then sat, each in his place, at the thole-pins, in order, and they loosed the hawser from the pierced stone. Then, leaning back, they threw the salt sea up with their oar-blades, and upon his eyelids a sweet sleep fell, unwaking, most pleasant, and nearest of all to death. And the ship, like a four-horse chariot drawn by stallions on the plain, that all start forward together under the lash of the whip, rearing high and speeding swiftly on their way, so did her stern lift up, and behind her the great,< dark-gleaming wave of the resounding sea churned and roared. She ran on, steady and sure; not even a falcon, a hawk, swiftest of all winged things, could have kept pace with her. Thus she ran, swiftly cutting the waves of the sea, carrying a man whose counsels were like those of the gods, who before had suffered many sorrows in his heart, enduring the wars of men and the grievous waves; but now he slept, untroubled, having forgotten all he had suffered.

When the brightest of stars arose, that which most often comes to herald the light of early-born Dawn, at that hour the sea-faring ship drew near to the island.

There is a certain harbor of Phorcys, the old man of the sea, in the land of Ithaca; and in it are two projecting headlands, sheer cliffs, that slope down toward the harbor, and shelter it from the great waves stirred by ill-blowing winds from without; and within, the well-benched ships can lie without moorings, once they have reached the measure of anchorage. At the head of the harbor stands a long-leafed olive tree, and nearby is a lovely, mist-hung cave, sacred to the Nymphs who are called Naiads. And within are mixing bowls and two-handled jars of stone; and there it is that the bees store their honey. Within are great stone looms, where the Nymphs weave sea-purple cloth, a wonder to behold. And water flows there unceasingly. The cave has two doors, the one facing North, a way down for mortals, but the one to the South is more divine; by that way men do not enter, but it is the path of the immortals.

There they rowed in, for they knew the place from before. And the ship, driven by their speed, beached itself upon the land for fully half its length; so powerfully was it urged on by the arms of the rowers. And they, disembarking from the well-benched ship onto the land, first lifted Odysseus out of the hollow ship, still with his linen sheet and gleaming rug, and laid him on the sand, fast-bound in sleep. Then they lifted out the treasures which the noble Phaeacians had given him for his journey home, through the grace of great-hearted Athene. These they set in a pile beside the trunk of the olive tree, off the main path, lest some wayfaring man, coming upon them before Odysseus awoke, should do them harm. Then they themselves started for home again. Nor did the Earth-Shaker forget the threats which against godlike Odysseus he had first uttered, and he inquired of the will of Zeus:

“Father Zeus, no longer shall I be held in honor among the immortal gods, when mortals pay me no honor at all, the Phaeacians, who are moreover of my own lineage. For I declared that Odysseus, after suffering many evils, would come home; though his return I never entirely forbade, since you had first promised it and nodded your assent. But they have carried him sleeping in a swift ship over the sea, and set him down in Ithaca, and have given him glorious gifts, bronze and gold and woven raiment in abundance, far more than Odysseus would ever have carried away from Troy, had he come home unscathed, with his allotted share of the spoils.”

And in answer to him spoke Zeus, the cloud-gatherer: “Ah me, wide-ruling Earth-Shaker, what a thing to say! The gods do not dishonor you; it would be a grievous thing indeed to assail with dishonor the eldest and best of us. But if any man, giving way to his own strength and power, does not honor you, vengeance is always yours to take, even in times to come. Do as you will, and as is pleasing to your heart.”

Then Poseidon the Earth-Shaker answered him: “I would have acted at once, O dark-clouded one, as you advise; but I always have regard for your anger and seek to avoid it. Now, however, I wish to strike the Phaeacians' beautiful ship, as it returns from its escort mission on the misty sea, so that they may now refrain, and cease from escorting men, and I wish to throw a great mountain around their city.”

And in answer to him spoke Zeus, the cloud-gatherer: “My friend, this is what seems best to my own heart:

when all the people from the city are watching her as she is driven onward, turn her into a stone near the land, in the shape of a swift ship, so that all men may marvel, and throw a great mountain around their city.”

Now when Poseidon the Earth-Shaker heard this, he set out for Scheria, where the Phaeacians dwell. There he waited; and the seafaring ship drew very near, driven swiftly on. The Earth-Shaker came close to her, and he turned her into stone and rooted her to the sea-bed by striking her with the flat of his hand; and he departed.

Then they spoke winged words to one another, the Phaeacians of the long oars, men renowned for their ships. And one would look at his neighbor and say:

“Alas! Who has bound our swift ship fast upon the sea as she was sailing for home? She was fully in sight just now.”

So one would say; but they did not know how it had come to pass. And Alcinous addressed them and spoke among them:

“Ah me, truly now the ancient prophecies of my father have come upon me. He used to say that Poseidon was angered with us, because we are the safe convoy of all men. He said that one day a beautiful ship of the Phaeacian men, returning from an escort mission on the misty sea, he would strike, and would cover our city with a great mountain. So the old man would declare; and now all this is coming to pass. But come, let us all obey, as I shall propose: cease from providing escort to mortals, whenever one may come to our city; and to Poseidon let us sacrifice twelve chosen bulls, in the hope he may take pity and not cover our city with a towering mountain.”

So he spoke, and they were afraid and made the bulls ready. Thus they prayed to the lord Poseidon, they, the leaders and counselors of the Phaeacian people, standing around the altar. And godlike Odysseus awoke from his sleep upon his native soil, but did not know it, having been away so long; for the goddess had shed a mist about him, Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, so that she might make him unrecognizable and tell him all things, so that his wife might not know him, nor his townsmen nor his friends, before he had exacted full vengeance for the suitors' transgression. For this reason, all things now appeared altered to the master: the long pathways, the all-sheltering harbors, the sheer rocks and the flourishing trees. He stood up with a start and gazed upon his native land, and then he cried aloud and struck his thighs with downward-turned hands, and spoke a word of lament:

“Alas for me! To the land of what mortals have I come now? Are they violent, savage, and unjust, or are they hospitable to strangers, with a god-fearing mind? Where am I to carry all this treasure? And where shall I myself now wander? Would that I had remained there with the Phaeacians! I might have then approached some other mighty king, who would have shown me friendship and sent me on my way. But now I do not know where to put these things, nor can I leave them here, lest they become plunder for others. Ah me, not at all wise or just, then, were the leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians, who brought me to another land. Indeed they said they would bring me to sunlit Ithaca, but they did not fulfill it. May Zeus, the god of suppliants, repay them, he who watches over all men and punishes whosoever transgresses. But come, I shall count my treasures and see, lest they have gone off with any of them in the hollow ship.”

So saying, the beautiful tripods and the cauldrons he counted, and the gold and the fine woven garments. Of these he missed nothing; but he lamented for his native land, pacing beside the shore of the resounding sea, lamenting greatly. And Athene came near to him, in the guise of a young man, a tender shepherd of flocks, of delicate form, such as are the sons of kings. She had a well-made cloak folded about her shoulders, and under her gleaming feet she wore sandals, and in her hands a javelin. And Odysseus rejoiced to see her and went to meet her, and raising his voice, he spoke to her with winged words:

“My friend, since you are the first I have chanced upon in this place, I bid you hail, and may you not meet me with an evil mind, but save these things, and save me also; for to you I pray as to a god, and I come to your dear knees. And tell me this truly, so that I may know it well: what land is this, what people, what men are native here? Is it some sunlit island, or is it a shore, sloping to the sea, of the rich-soiled mainland?”

And in answer to him spoke the goddess, grey-eyed Athene: “You are a fool, stranger, or you have come from afar, if you must ask about this land. It is not at all so nameless; indeed, very many people know of it, both those who dwell toward the dawn and the sun, and those who live behind, toward the misty darkness. In truth it is rugged and not fit for driving horses, and not very barren, though it is not wide. For in it grain grows beyond measure, and wine is also produced; and it always has rain and nourishing dew. It is a good land for pasturing goats and cattle; there is timber of every kind, and in it are watering places that never fail. Therefore, stranger, the name of Ithaca has reached even to Troy, which they say is far from the land of Achaea.”

So she spoke, and the much-enduring, godlike Odysseus was glad, rejoicing in his own native land, as she had told him, Pallas Athene, daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus. And raising his voice he spoke to her with winged words— yet he did not speak the truth, but held back his story, always turning in his breast a mind of many wiles:—

“I heard of Ithaca even in wide Crete, far across the sea; and now I have come here myself with these treasures. And I have left as much again to my children, for I am in flight, since I killed the dear son of Idomeneus, Orsilochus, swift of foot, who in wide Crete outran all other mortal men with his speedy feet, because he wished to deprive me of all the Trojan spoils, for whose sake I had suffered sorrows in my heart, enduring the wars of men and the grievous waves, because I would not serve his father with pleasing deference among the people of Troy, but commanded other comrades. As he was coming down from the country, I struck him with my bronze-tipped spear, lying in ambush with a comrade near the road. A very dark night held the sky, and not a soul among men saw us, and I took his life from him unseen. Now, after I had killed him with the sharp bronze, I went at once to a ship and beseeched the noble Phoenicians, and gave them satisfying spoils to win them over. I bade them set me down and land me at Pylos, or at sacred Elis, where the Epeans hold sway. But in truth the force of the wind drove them away from there, much against their will, for they had no wish to deceive me. Driven from our course from there, we came here in the night. We rowed with all speed into the harbor, and none of us thought of supper, though we were in great need of it, but just as we were, we disembarked and all lay down. Then upon me, weary as I was, a sweet sleep came, and they, taking my treasures from the hollow ship, set them down where I myself was lying on the sand. Then they went aboard and departed for well-settled Sidon; and I was left behind, grieving in my heart.”

So he spoke, and the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, smiled, and caressed him with her hand; and she took the form of a woman, beautiful and tall, and skilled in glorious handiwork; and raising her voice, she spoke to him with winged words:

“He would be a cunning and a crafty one who could surpass you in all manner of tricks, even if a god were to encounter you. Wretched man, of subtle mind, insatiate of wiles, were you not then, even when on your own soil, to cease from the deceptions and the thievish tales which are dear to you from the very foundation of your being? But come, let us speak no more of this, since we both are skilled in stratagems, for you are by far the best of all mortals in counsel and in speech, and I among all the gods am famed for my wisdom and my wiles. And you did not even recognize Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, I who am always

at your side and guard you in all your labors, and who made you dear to all the Phaeacians. And now I have come here to weave a plan with you, and to hide the treasures which the noble Phaeacians, through my own counsel and design, gave you for your journey home, and to tell you what sorrows it is your fate to endure within your well-built house. You must bear them, out of necessity, and tell no one at all, neither man nor woman, that you have come back from your wanderings, but in silence suffer your many sorrows, submitting to the violence of men.”

And in answer to her spoke Odysseus of many wiles: “It is a hard thing, goddess, for a mortal man who meets you to know you, even a man of great understanding; for you take on every shape. But this I know well, that in former times you were kind to me, while we sons of the Achaeans waged war in Troy. But after we had sacked the steep city of Priam, and had gone away in our ships, and a god had scattered the Achaeans, I did not see you after that, daughter of Zeus, nor did I perceive you boarding my ship, to ward off any sorrow from me. But always with a heart torn in my breast I wandered, until the gods delivered me from my evil plight; until that time, in the rich land of the Phaeacian men, you encouraged me with your words and yourself led me into the city. And now I beseech you by your father; for I do not think that I have come to sunlit Ithaca, but am roaming some other land; and I think that you say these things in mockery, to beguile my mind. Tell me if I have truly come to my own dear native land.”

Then in answer to him spoke the goddess, grey-eyed Athene: “Always you have such a thought as this in your breast; and for that very reason I cannot forsake you in your misfortune, because you are courteous, and quick-witted, and prudent. For any other man, returning from his wanderings, would gladly have rushed to see his children and his wife in his halls; but it is not yet your pleasure to learn or to inquire, until you have tested your wife, who just as before sits in your halls, and for her the sorrowful nights and days are ever wasting away as she sheds her tears. As for me, I never doubted this, but knew in my heart that you would return, having lost all your comrades; but I was not willing to contend with Poseidon, my father's brother, who set his wrath against you in his heart, enraged because you blinded his own dear son. But come, I will show you the seat of Ithaca, so you may be persuaded. This is the harbor of Phorcys, the old man of the sea, and this, at the harbor's head, is the long-leafed olive tree. And nearby is the lovely, mist-hung cave, sacred to the Nymphs who are called Naiads. And this is the broad, vaulted cave where you have often made rich hecatombs to the Nymphs in sacrifice. And this is Mount Neriton, clothed in forest.”

So speaking, the goddess scattered the mist, and the land appeared. Then the much-enduring, godlike Odysseus rejoiced, gladdened by his own land, and he kissed the grain-giving earth. And at once he prayed to the Nymphs, raising up his hands:

“Naiad Nymphs, daughters of Zeus, I thought I would never see you again; but now, with gentle prayers, I greet you; and we will give you gifts as well, as in times past, if the daughter of Zeus, the driver of the spoils, graciously allows me myself to live, and brings my dear son to manhood.”

And in answer to him spoke the goddess, grey-eyed Athene: “Be of good cheer, and let not these things trouble your mind. But let us place your treasures in a recess of the sacred cave, right now, so that they may remain safe for you. And let us ourselves consider how things may best turn out.”

So speaking, the goddess entered the shadowy cave, searching for hiding-places within it; and Odysseus, for his part, brought everything near, the gold and the unyielding bronze and the well-made garments which the Phaeacians had given him. And he stowed them carefully, and a stone was placed against the entrance by Pallas Athene, daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus.

Then the two of them, sitting down beside the trunk of the sacred olive, plotted the ruin of the insolent suitors. And the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, was the first to speak:

“Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many devices, consider how you will lay your hands on the shameless suitors, who for three years now have been lording it in your halls, courting your godlike wife and offering her bride-gifts. And she, ever mourning in her heart for your return, gives hope to all and makes promises to each man, sending them messages, though her mind is set on other things.”

And in answer to her spoke Odysseus of many wiles: “Ah me! Truly it seems I was destined to perish by an evil fate in my own halls, like Agamemnon, son of Atreus, if you, goddess, had not told me each of these things fittingly. But come, weave a plan, so that I may repay them; and stand beside me yourself, filling me with bold courage, such as we had when we loosed the gleaming battlements of Troy. If only you would stand by me so eagerly, grey-eyed one, I would fight against three hundred men, with you, my lady goddess, if you would readily aid me.”

Then in answer to him spoke the goddess, grey-eyed Athene: “And truly I will be at your side, nor will I be forgetful of you when we set about this business; and I think that some of the suitors who devour your livelihood will spatter the boundless earth with their blood and their brains. But come, I will make you unrecognizable to all mortals. I will shrivel the fair skin on your supple limbs, and destroy the golden hair upon your head, and clothe you in a rag that a man would loathe to see another wearing, and I will dim your eyes that were once so beautiful, so that you may appear wretched to all the suitors, and to your wife and to the son whom you left in your halls. You yourself must first go to the swineherd, who is the keeper of your pigs, and who is loyal to you in heart, and loves your son and prudent Penelope. You will find him sitting by his swine; and they are feeding by the Rock of Corax and the spring of Arethusa, eating savory acorns and drinking the dark water, the things which make rich, glistening fatness grow on swine. There you must wait and question him on all things as you sit beside him, while I go to Sparta, land of fair women, to summon Telemachus, your dear son, Odysseus, who went to wide Lacedaemon, to the house of Menelaus, to seek news of you, if you were still alive anywhere.”

And in answer to her spoke Odysseus of many wiles: “Why then did you not tell him, you who know all things in your mind? Was it so that he too might suffer sorrows, wandering over the barren sea, while others devour his substance?”

Then in answer to him spoke the goddess, grey-eyed Athene: “Let him not be too much of a care to you. I myself was his escort, so that he might win good repute by going there. And he has no trouble, but sits at his ease in the house of the son of Atreus, and boundless store is set before him. Indeed, young men in a black ship are lying in ambush for him, eager to kill him before he can reach his native land; but I do not think this will happen; sooner will the earth hold some of the suitors who devour your livelihood.”

So saying, Athene touched him with her wand. She shriveled the fair skin on his supple limbs, and destroyed the golden hair upon his head, and about all his limbs she put the skin of an old man, and she dimmed his eyes that were once so beautiful. And she threw about him another wretched rag and a tunic, tattered and filthy, stained with foul smoke. And over this she cast the great hide of a swift stag, worn bare; and she gave him a staff and a miserable pouch, riddled with holes, and on it was a twisted cord for a strap.

Having thus taken counsel, they parted; and she then went to sacred Lacedaemon to fetch the son of Odysseus.

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