Homer · a new plain-English translation from the Greek
So the man of many sufferings, royal Odysseus, prayed there, while the mule-cart carried the strength of the girl toward the city. When she reached her father's splendid halls she stopped the mules at the gateway, and her brothers gathered round her, men who might have been gods, and unyoked the mules and carried the linens inside. She herself went to her room, where a fire was kindled for her by her old attendant, Eurymedousa of Apeira, whom curved ships had once brought from Apeira as a prize set apart for Alcinous, since the Phaeacians honored him like a god among his people. She had nursed white-armed Nausicaa in that house, and now she lit the fire and prepared her supper inside.
Meanwhile Odysseus rose to go toward the city, and Athena poured a thick mist around him, wishing him well, so that no proud Phaeacian meeting him on the road would mock him with words or ask who he was. But just as he was about to enter the lovely city, the bright-eyed goddess Athena met him, looking like a young girl carrying a water jar. She stood before him, and godlike Odysseus questioned her.
"My child, could you guide me to the house of a man named Alcinous, who rules this people here? I am a stranger who has suffered much, come from a distant land, and I know no one among those who hold this city and this country."
The goddess, bright-eyed Athena, answered him: "Then I will show you, stranger and father, the house you ask for, since it lies close to my own noble father's home. But come, walk quietly — I will lead the way — and do not look at anyone or ask any questions. The people here do not welcome strangers kindly, nor do they greet warmly whoever comes from elsewhere. They trust in their swift ships to cross the great gulf of the sea, since the Earthshaker granted them that gift — their ships are as fast as a bird's wing, or a thought."
So she spoke, and Pallas Athena led on swiftly, and he followed in the goddess's footsteps. The seafaring Phaeacians did not notice him passing through their city among them, for fair-haired Athena, that formidable goddess, would not allow it — she poured a wondrous mist around him, wishing him well in her heart. Odysseus marveled at the harbors and the trim ships, at the meeting-places of the heroes themselves, and at the long, high walls fitted with palisades, a wonder to behold. And when at last they reached the king's splendid house, the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, spoke first.
"Here, stranger and father, is the house you asked me to show you. You will find kings nurtured by Zeus feasting inside — go in, and let nothing trouble your heart, for a bold man does better in every undertaking, even if he comes from some far-off land. You will find the lady of the house first inside the hall. Arete is her name, and she comes from the very same parents who bore King Alcinous."
"Poseidon the Earthshaker first fathered Nausithous with Periboea, loveliest of women, the youngest daughter of great-hearted Eurymedon, who once ruled over the proud tribe of Giants. But he destroyed his reckless people and was himself destroyed. Poseidon lay with his daughter and fathered a son, great-hearted Nausithous, who ruled among the Phaeacians. Nausithous fathered Rhexenor and Alcinous. Rhexenor, still without a son, was struck down by Apollo of the silver bow while newly married, leaving one daughter only, Arete. Alcinous made her his wife, and honors her as no other woman on earth is honored, among all the wives who now keep house under their husbands' rule."
"So deeply is she cherished and esteemed, by her own dear children, by Alcinous himself, and by his people, who look on her as a god when she walks through the city and greet her with their words. For she herself lacks nothing in good sense, and settles quarrels among men, even for those she favors. If she looks kindly on you in her heart, then you may hope to see your loved ones again and reach your high-roofed home and your own native land."
So speaking, bright-eyed Athena departed over the barren sea, leaving lovely Scheria behind, and came to Marathon and to Athens with its broad streets, and entered the sturdy house of Erechtheus. Meanwhile Odysseus went on toward the famous house of Alcinous, and his heart turned over many thoughts as he stood there, before he crossed the bronze threshold.
For a gleam like that of the sun or the moon hung over the high-roofed house of great-hearted Alcinous. Bronze walls ran along either side from the threshold to the innermost chamber, topped with a cornice of blue enamel. Golden doors enclosed the sturdy house within; silver doorposts stood on the bronze threshold, with a silver lintel above and a golden door-handle. On either side stood gold and silver dogs, which Hephaestus had made with cunning skill to guard the house of great-hearted Alcinous, immortal and ageless forever.
Inside, chairs were ranged along the wall on either side, from the threshold to the innermost room, and on them fine woven robes were laid, the work of women. There the Phaeacian leaders sat, drinking and eating, for they had plenty always. Golden youths stood on well-built pedestals, holding blazing torches in their hands to light the halls at night for the feasters. Fifty serving-women worked through the house — some grinding the yellow grain at the mill, others weaving cloth or twirling their spindles as they sat, like the leaves of a tall poplar tree, while the tightly woven linens dripped with oil. Just as the Phaeacian men excel all others at driving a swift ship over the sea, so their women excel at the loom, for Athena gave them beyond others skill in beautiful handiwork and good sense.
Outside the courtyard, near the gates, lay a great orchard of four acres, enclosed all around by a fence. There tall trees grew in full bloom — pears, pomegranates, apples with their gleaming fruit, sweet figs, and thriving olives. Their fruit never fails or runs short, winter or summer, all year round, for the West Wind's breath continually brings some fruit to bud and ripens others. Pear ripens on pear, apple on apple, grape cluster on grape cluster, fig on fig.
There too a fruitful vineyard was planted, part of it a level plot where grapes lay drying in the sun, while elsewhere others were being gathered, and still others trodden underfoot; and in front unripe grapes were shedding their blossom, while others were just beginning to darken. And by the last row of vines, well-tended garden beds of every kind grew, gleaming with abundance all year long. Two springs watered it — one spreading through the whole garden, the other flowing under the courtyard gate toward the high house, where the townspeople drew their water. Such were the glorious gifts of the gods in the house of Alcinous.
There the man of many sufferings, royal Odysseus, stood and gazed. And when he had taken in everything with wonder, he stepped quickly over the threshold into the house. He found the Phaeacian leaders and counselors pouring libations from their cups to the sharp-eyed slayer of Argus, to whom they always poured last before going to rest. Then royal Odysseus, the man of many sufferings, walked through the hall still wrapped in the thick mist Athena had poured around him, until he reached Arete and King Alcinous. He threw his arms around Arete's knees, and just then the divine mist dissolved away from him. The people fell silent, seeing the man in their hall, and stared in wonder. And Odysseus made his plea.
"Arete, daughter of godlike Rhexenor, I have come to your husband's knees and to yours, after great hardship, and to these feasting guests — may the gods grant them prosperity in their lives, and may each pass on to his children the wealth in his halls and whatever honor the people gave him. But for me, urge them to send me swiftly on my way home, since I have long suffered troubles far from those I love."
So saying he sat down by the hearth among the ashes, near the fire, and everyone fell into a hushed silence. At last the old hero Echeneus spoke, the oldest of the Phaeacian men, skilled in speech and knowing many things from long ago. He, meaning well, addressed the assembly.
"Alcinous, this is neither fitting nor proper — that a guest should sit on the ground by the hearth among the ashes, while your people wait, restraining themselves, for your word. Come, raise the stranger up and seat him on a silver-studded chair, and tell the heralds to mix wine, so we may pour it out also to Zeus who delights in thunder, who attends reverent suppliants. And let the housekeeper give the stranger supper from what is in store."
When the sacred strength of Alcinous heard this, he took the hand of clever, resourceful Odysseus, raised him from the hearth, and seated him on a gleaming chair, making his own son, gallant Laodamas, who sat nearest him and loved him most, get up to make room. A servant brought water in a fine golden pitcher and poured it over a silver basin for him to wash, then drew up a polished table beside him. A grave housekeeper brought bread and set it before him, laying out many good things, generous with what she had. And royal Odysseus, the man of many sufferings, ate and drank.
Then he spoke to the herald, the strong voice of Alcinous. "Pontonous, mix wine in the bowl and serve it to everyone in the hall, so we may pour it out also to Zeus who delights in thunder, who attends reverent suppliants."
So he spoke, and Pontonous mixed the honey-sweet wine and served it around, pouring a portion to each in turn. And when they had poured their libations and drunk as much as they wished, Alcinous rose and addressed them.
"Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians, while I say what my heart within me bids. Now that you have feasted, go home to your beds. In the morning we will call together more of the elders, entertain our guest in the hall, and offer fine sacrifices to the gods; then we will turn our thoughts to sending him home, so that under our escort this stranger may reach his own native land without further toil or grief, quickly and gladly, however far off it lies, and suffer no harm or hardship on the way until he sets foot on his own soil. There, after that, he will face whatever fate the heavy spinners wove for him at his birth, when his mother bore him."
"But if he is one of the immortals come down from heaven, then the gods are planning something different this time. For always before, the gods have appeared to us openly, when we offer them glorious hecatombs, and they feast among us, sitting where we sit. And even if a lone traveler meets one of them, they do not hide themselves, since we are close kin to them, as are the Cyclopes and the wild tribes of the Giants."
Resourceful Odysseus answered him: "Alcinous, put that thought out of your mind — I am nothing like the immortals who hold the wide heaven, neither in build nor in form, but like mortal men. Whoever among you know men who bear the greatest weight of misery, to them I could compare my own sorrows. And indeed I could tell of still more troubles, all that I have suffered by the gods' will. But let me eat my supper, grieved as I am — for nothing is more shameless than a hateful belly, which forces itself on a man's memory, however weary he is and however much sorrow he carries in his heart. So it is with me — I carry grief in my heart, yet my belly keeps urging me to eat and drink, and makes me forget all I have suffered, and demands to be filled."
"But you — be quick to move at dawn's first light, so that you may set this unlucky man on his own native soil again, after all he has suffered. Let life leave me only once I have seen again my possessions, my servants, and my great high-roofed house."
So he spoke, and they all applauded and urged that the stranger be sent home, since he had spoken as was fitting. And when they had poured their libations and drunk as much as they wished, they went off each to his own house to sleep, while royal Odysseus remained behind in the hall, with Arete and godlike Alcinous seated beside him, and the serving-women cleared away the dishes of the feast. Then white-armed Arete began to speak, for she recognized the cloak and tunic, the fine clothes she herself had made with her serving-women, and she spoke to him with winged words.
"Stranger, I will ask you this myself, first of all: who are you, and where from among men? Who gave you these clothes? Did you not say you came here wandering over the sea?"
Resourceful Odysseus answered her: "It is hard, queen, to tell my troubles from beginning to end without a break, since the gods of heaven have given me so many. But I will tell you this, since you ask and want to know. There is an island, Ogygia, lying far off in the sea. There lives the daughter of Atlas, cunning Calypso, the formidable goddess with the lovely hair, and no one, god or mortal, keeps company with her. But some divine power brought me, unlucky as I was, alone to her hearth, after Zeus struck my swift ship with a blazing thunderbolt and shattered it in the middle of the wine-dark sea."
"There all my good companions perished, but I clung to the keel of my curved ship and was carried along for nine days; on the tenth, in the dark night, the gods brought me to the island of Ogygia, where Calypso lives, the formidable goddess with lovely hair. She took me in, cared for me lovingly, fed me, and told me she would make me immortal and ageless forever — but she never persuaded the heart in my chest. There I stayed seven long years without fail, always wetting with my tears the immortal clothing Calypso gave me. But when the eighth circling year came round, she urged me at last to go, on word from Zeus, or perhaps her own mind had changed."
"She sent me off on a raft lashed with many ropes, and gave me plenty — bread, sweet wine, and clothed me in immortal garments — and she sent a gentle, favorable wind. For seventeen days I sailed the sea, and on the eighteenth the shadowy mountains of your land appeared, and my heart rejoiced, unlucky as I was — for I was still to face great hardship, which Poseidon the Earthshaker stirred up against me, driving winds against me and blocking my path, and rousing the sea to unspeakable fury, so that the waves would not let me ride my raft on, groaning as I was."
"A storm scattered the raft at last, and I had to swim, cutting through that gulf of sea, until wind and current carried me to your shore. There, as I tried to land, a wave would have crushed me against the great rocks, dashing me on that joyless coast, but I swam back out and away, until I came to a river, which seemed to me the best place — smooth of rocks, and sheltered from the wind. I dragged myself out, gathering my strength, and the immortal night came on. I went inland, away from the river fed by Zeus, and lay down among the bushes, heaping leaves over myself; and a god poured boundless sleep upon me."
"There among the leaves, my heart heavy with sorrow, I slept the whole night through, and into the dawn, and past midday. The sun was sinking when sweet sleep let me go, and I noticed your daughter's maids playing on the shore, and she among them, looking like a goddess. I begged her for help, and she showed no lack of good sense — you could hardly expect so much good judgment from someone so young, for the young are usually thoughtless. She gave me plenty of bread and gleaming wine, bathed me in the river, and gave me these clothes I wear. This is the truth I have told you, grieved as I am."
Then Alcinous answered him and said: "Stranger, in one thing my daughter did not judge rightly — that she did not bring you home herself with her serving-women..."
"— brought you to our house herself, since you were the first to come to her as a suppliant."
Resourceful Odysseus answered him: "My lord, do not blame the girl for that, she is blameless. She did tell me to follow along with her maids, but I would not, out of fear and shame, afraid that the sight might stir anger in your own heart. We men are a jealous breed, all of us who live on this earth."
Alcinous answered him again: "Stranger, the heart in my chest is not one to flare up over nothing. In all things the fair and moderate course is best.
If only — Father Zeus, Athena, Apollo — a man like you, thinking as I think, could have my daughter and be called my son-in-law, staying here with us. I would give you a house and possessions, if you were willing to stay. But no one among the Phaeacians shall hold you here against your will — may Father Zeus never let that happen. As for your passage home, so that you may be sure of it, I set it for tomorrow. Then you will lie down, overcome by sleep, while my men row you across the calm sea, until you reach your own country and your house, or wherever else you wish,
even if it lies much farther off than Euboea, which our people say is the most distant land of all, those of them who saw it when they carried fair-haired Rhadamanthys there to visit Tityus, son of Gaia. They went there and, without any toil, finished the journey and came home again on that very same day. You will see for yourself how far the best of all ships are mine, and my young men, at churning up the sea with their oars."
So he spoke, and long-suffering, godlike Odysseus was glad, and praying he spoke these words and called him by name:
"Father Zeus, grant that Alcinous may bring to pass everything he has said. Then his fame would be undying over the grain-giving earth, and I would reach my own homeland."
So the two of them spoke to one another. And white-armed Arete gave orders to her maids to set up a bed under the portico, to lay fine purple coverlets upon it, to spread rugs over them, and to put thick woolen cloaks on top for covering. The women went out from the hall carrying torches in their hands, and when they had briskly made up the sturdy bed,
they came and stood by Odysseus and roused him with these words: "Rise now and go to sleep, stranger — your bed is made."
So they spoke, and it seemed to him a welcome thing to lie down and rest. So there long-suffering, godlike Odysseus slept, on a corded bed under the echoing portico, while Alcinous lay down in the inner chamber of the lofty house, and beside him his wife and queen made ready the bed and bedding.