Ulysses visits the King of the Phæacians
The sun had set and darkness had fallen when the hero set out for the
city of the Phæacians. As soon as he came near the first houses, his
friend Athene met him disguised as a young girl returning with a pitcher
of water from the well.
“Daughter, canst thou show me the way to the palace of Alcinous, thy
king?” Ulysses addressed her. “I am come from a distant country and am a
stranger here.”
“Very willingly, good father, will I show thee the house,” answered the
friendly girl. “The king lives very near my father. Come with me and I
will guide thee that thou needst not inquire of another. People are not
overfriendly to strangers here.”
Ulysses thanked the maiden and followed her unseen by anyone. He was
astonished at the great market place and harbor, the large ships and
high walls. When they had been walking for a while the girl stopped and
said: “See, good father, here is the king’s house. Thou wilt find the
princes at their meal. Walk boldly in and fear nothing, for a bold front
is always successful. But I must tell thee one thing more. When thou
enterest thou shalt go straight to the queen, Arete. She is very wise
and is honored far and wide above all women. The king also reverences
her and she rules everything, judging even the men’s quarrels with
wisdom. She is greeted everywhere by old and young like a goddess. If
she is gracious to thee, then mayest thou hope to return to thy native
land.”
With these words Athene left him, and Ulysses went into the courtyard of
the castle and paused in amazement on the threshold of the house.
Everything that he saw was very beautiful. The walls looked like bronze,
the doorway like silver, and the ring on the gate was of gold. At the
back of the open hall were rows of seats disposed against the walls, on
which sat the nobles at the banquet. Beside them stood beautifully
clothed youths holding torches to light the feast. Fifty maidens served
in the palace, some of them grinding grain on the handmills, others
embroidering or spinning; for the women of the Phæacians were as famous
for their wonderful weaving as the men were as navigators.
When the hero entered the king’s hall it was already late and the
company was about to break up. The guests were standing with their
goblets in their hands ready to drink a last offering to Hermes. Just
then they saw a stranger cross the hall and kneel before the queen. All
listened attentively to what he was about to say. He clasped Arete’s
knees, as was the custom of supplicants, and spoke: “O Arete, daughter
of the immortal hero Rhexenor, I embrace thy knees and the king’s, thy
husband’s, and all the guests. I am a man overwhelmed with misfortune.
May the gods prosper thee and give thee long life and to thy children
great honor and wealth! Only help me to return to my home, for it is
many years since I have seen my people.”
With these words he arose and seated himself in the ashes beside the
hearth, as was customary for one asking help. At first the spectators
were dumb with surprise, but in a few moments an old man broke the
silence. “Alcinous,” he said, “thou must not allow a stranger to sit
amongst the ashes. Come, lead him to a couch and let the heralds mix
wine for him as an offering to Jupiter, and let the servants bring the
stranger food.”
The king immediately arose, took Ulysses by the hand, and led him to a
seat beside his own. What a contrast to the previous evening when the
poor man, deprived of his clothes, dripping and exhausted by his
struggle with the waves, had staggered on land and raked together a bed
of leaves in which to warm himself. Now he was luxuriously feasting, by
torchlight, in a magnificent hall.
“Come,” cried the king to the herald, “mix another bowl of wine and fill
the cups of the guests that we may drink once more to Jupiter, the
protector of those seeking aid.”
The herald did the king’s bidding and all poured the libation to Jupiter
on the ground, then drank off the remainder, and arose from their seats.
The king commanded them to come again the following day to discuss how
they might assist the stranger to return to his home, unless—this had
just occurred to him—he might be a god in disguise who took pleasure in
mingling with mortals.
Ulysses modestly denied this flattering suggestion. “No, indeed,” said
he, “I am the most miserable and unfortunate of men. But now let me eat
a little more, for unhappy as I am, hunger is stronger than my sorrows,
and an empty stomach gives a mortal no peace. But to-morrow, noble
lords, ye shall do to me even as the king hath said and send me home,
since for many years I have been consumed with longing for my wife and
home.”
The princes listened to the stranger with respect, for his speech and
noble mien betrayed the man of intellect and ability. When the guests
had gone, Ulysses was left alone with the king and queen. Servants
removed the remains of the feast, and now the queen, who had remained
silent before the men, began to question her guest. She had been
watching him, half in admiration and half with distrust, for she
recognized the garments which he wore, having woven them herself. “I
must ask thee,” said she, “who thou art and whence thou comest. Who gave
thee these garments? Thou sayest that thou comest to us from across the
sea.”
“Ah, Queen,” answered Ulysses, “it is too long a story to tell thee all
my history. Far out in the sea lies the isle Ogygia, where lives the
beautiful and powerful goddess Calypso. A frightful storm which
destroyed my ship cast me on that shore, and for seven years the lovely
goddess held me captive there. She promised me immortal youth if I would
abide with her and be her husband, but she could not persuade me. At
last she changed her mind and only twenty days ago released me, gave me
rich gifts and a successful voyage until I came in sight of the blue
hills of this isle. Then Poseidon’s wrath overtook me, and a terrible
storm broke up my ship. Naked, I managed by constant swimming to reach
these shores. Last night I passed miserably in a thicket, but a sweet
sleep held me fast bound for nearly twenty hours. I did not awaken until
afternoon; then I heard voices, and saw thy daughter and her maidens not
far away. I approached her in my distress, and behold, I found a
sensible and noble-minded maiden. She refreshed me with food and wine,
bathed and anointed me, and gave me these garments; then bade me come
hither.”
“All that is very good,” said Alcinous, “but the naughty girl has
neglected a part of her duty. She should have brought thee straight to
us, and she was here long before thou camest.”
“She did indeed offer to conduct me hither,” said the hero, “but I did
not consider it fitting and did not wish thee to misjudge me. Therefore
I remained modestly behind, for we men are very suspicious creatures.”
“I am not so hasty in my judgments,” interrupted Alcinous. “However, all
things should be done in order, and I perceive that thou art an
excellent man. If such a one as thou should request my daughter’s hand,
I would gladly take him for a son-in-law. If thou wilt remain here I
will give thee houses and lands, but Jupiter would not wish that I
should force thee to stay with us. No, if thou so desirest I will
despatch thee to-morrow on thy way. Our rowers shall take thee safely
back to thy home, however far away it may be.”
“O Father Jupiter,” cried Ulysses at these words, “let all come to pass
as this noble man hath said.”
And now the queen commanded the maids to prepare a bed with soft
cushions and fine covers for the stranger in the hall. They went out
with torches, and when all was in readiness called the stranger to his
well-earned rest.