BOOK VIII.

The next day’s entertainment of Odysseus, where he sees them contend in

wrestling and other exercises, and upon provocation took up a greater

stone than that which they were throwing, and overthrew them all.

Alcinous and the lords give him presents. And how the king asked his

name, his country, and his adventures.

Now when early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, then the mighty

king Alcinous gat him up from his bed; and Odysseus, of the seed of

Zeus, likewise uprose, the waster of cities. And the mighty king

Alcinous led the way to the assembly place of the Phaeacians, which

they had established hard by the ships. So when they had come thither,

and sat them down on the polished stones close by each other, Pallas

Athene went on her way through the town, in the semblance of the herald

of wise Alcinous, devising a return for the great-hearted Odysseus.

Then standing by each man she spake, saying:

“Hither now get ye to the assembly, ye captains and counsellors of the

Phaeacians, that ye may learn concerning the stranger, who hath lately

come to the palace of wise Alcinous, in his wanderings over the deep,

and his form is like the deathless gods.”

Therewith she aroused the spirit and desire of each one, and speedily

the meeting-places and seats were filled with men that came to the

gathering: yea, and many an one marvelled at the sight of the wise son

of Laertes, for wondrous was the grace Athene poured upon his head and

shoulders, and she made him greater and more mighty to behold, that he

might win love and worship and honour among all the Phaeacians, and

that he might accomplish many feats, wherein the Phaeacians made trial

of Odysseus. Now when they were gathered and come together, Alcinous

made harangue and spake among them:

“Harken, ye captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, and I will say

that which my spirit within me bids me utter. This stranger, I know not

who he is, hath come to my house in his wandering, whether from the men

of the dawning or the westward, and he presses for a convoy, and prays

that it be assured to him. So let us, as in time past, speed on the

convoy. For never, nay never, doth any man who cometh to my house,

abide here long in sorrow for want of help upon his way. Nay, come let

us draw down a black ship to the fair salt sea, for her first voyage,

and let them choose fifty and two noble youths throughout the township,

who have been proved heretofore the best. And when ye have made fast

the oars upon the benches, step all a shore, and thereafter come to our

house, and quickly fall to feasting; and I will make good provision for

all. To the noble youths I give this commandment; but ye others,

sceptred kings, come to my fair dwelling, that we may entertain the

stranger in the halls, and let no man make excuse. Moreover, bid hither

the divine minstrel, Demodocus, for the god hath given minstrelsy to

him as to none other, to make men glad in what way soever his spirit

stirs him to sing.”

He spake and led the way, and the sceptred kings accompanied him, while

the henchmen went for the divine minstrel. And chosen youths, fifty and

two, departed at his command, to the shore of the unharvested sea. But

after they had gone down to the ship and to the sea, first of all they

drew the ship down to the deep water, and placed the mast and sails in

the black ship, and fixed the oars in leathern loops, all orderly, and

spread forth the white sails. And they moored her high out in the shore

water, and thereafter went on their way to the great palace of the wise

Alcinous. Now the galleries and the courts and the rooms were thronged

with men that came to the gathering, for there were many, young and

old. Then Alcinous sacrificed twelve sheep among them, and eight boars

with flashing tusks, and two oxen with trailing feet. These they flayed

and made ready, and dressed a goodly feast.

Then the henchman drew near, leading with him the beloved minstrel,

whom the muse loved dearly, and she gave him both good and evil; of his

sight she reft him, but granted him sweet song. Then Pontonous, the

henchman, set for him a high chair inlaid with silver, in the midst of

the guests, leaning it against the tall pillar, and he hung the loud

lyre on a pin, close above his head, and showed him how to lay his

hands on it. And close by him he placed a basket, and a fair table, and

a goblet of wine by his side, to drink when his spirit bade him. So

they stretched forth their hands upon the good cheer spread before

them. But after they had put from them the desire of meat and drink,

the Muse stirred the minstrel to sing the songs of famous men, even

that lay whereof the fame had then reached the wide heaven, namely, the

quarrel between Odysseus and Achilles, son of Peleus; how once on a

time they contended in fierce words at a rich festival of the gods, but

Agamemnon, king of men, was inly glad when the noblest of the Achaeans

fell at variance. For so Phoebus Apollo in his soothsaying had told him

that it must be, in goodly Pytho, what time he crossed the threshold of

stone, to seek to the oracle. For in those days the first wave of woe

was rolling on Trojans and Danaans through the counsel of great Zeus.

This song it was that the famous minstrel sang; but Odysseus caught his

great purple cloak with his stalwart hands, and drew it down over his

head, and hid his comely face, for he was ashamed to shed tears beneath

his brows in presence of the Phaeacians. Yea, and oft as the divine

minstrel paused in his song, Odysseus would wipe away the tears, and

draw the cloak from off his head, and take the two-handled goblet and

pour forth before the gods. But whensoever he began again, and the

chiefs of the Phaeacians stirred him to sing, in delight at the lay,

again would Odysseus cover up his head and make moan. Now none of all

the company marked him weeping, but Alcinous alone noted it and was

ware thereof as he sat by him and heard him groaning heavily. And

presently he spake among the Phaeacians, masters of the oar:

“Hearken, ye captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, now have our

souls been satisfied with the good feast, and with the lyre, which is

the mate of the rich banquet. Let us go forth anon, and make trial of

divers games, that the stranger may tell his friends, when home he

returneth, how greatly we excel all men in boxing, and wrestling, and

leaping, and speed of foot.”

He spake, and led the way, and they went with him. And the henchman

hung the loud lyre on the pin, and took the hand of Demodocus, and let

him forth from the hall, and guided him by the same way, whereby those

others, the chiefs of the Phaeacians, had gone to gaze upon the games.

So they went on their way to the place of assembly, and with them a

great company innumerable; and many a noble youth stood up to play.

There rose Acroneus, and Ocyalus, and Elatreus, and Nauteus, and

Prymneus, and Anchialus, and Eretmeus, and Ponteus, and Proreus, Thoon,

and Anabesineus, and Amphialus, son of Polyneus, son of Tekton, and

likewise Euryalus, the peer of murderous Ares, the son of Naubolus, who

in face and form was goodliest of all the Phaeacians next to noble

Laodamas. And there stood up the three sons of noble Alcinous,

Laodamas, and Halius, and god-like Clytoneus. And behold, these all

first tried the issue in the foot race. From the very start they

strained at utmost speed: and all together they flew forward swiftly,

raising the dust along the plain. And noble Clytoneus was far the

swiftest of them all in running, and by the length of the furrow that

mules cleave in a fallow field,[15] so far did he shoot to the front,

and came to the crowd by the lists, while those others were left

behind. Then they made trial of strong wrestling, and here in turn

Euryalus excelled all the best. And in leaping Amphialus was far the

foremost, and Elatreus in weight-throwing, and in boxing Laodamas, the

good son of Alcinous. Now when they had all taken their pleasure in the

games, Laodamas, son of Alcinous, spake among them:

[15] The distance here indicated seems to be that which the mule goes

in ploughing, without pausing to take breath.

“Come, my friends, let us ask the stranger whether he is skilled or

practised in any sport. Ill fashioned, at least, he is not in his

thighs and sinewy legs and hands withal, and his stalwart neck and

mighty strength: yea and he lacks not youth, but is crushed by many

troubles. For I tell thee there is nought else worse than the sea to

confound a man, how hardy soever he may be.”

And Euryalus in turn made answer, and said: “Laodamas, verily thou hast

spoken this word in season. Go now thyself and challenge him, and

declare thy saying.”

Now when the good son of Alcinous heard this, he went and stood in the

midst, and spake unto Odysseus: “Come, do thou too, father and

stranger, try thy skill in the sports, if haply thou art practised in

any; and thou art like to have knowledge of games, for there is no

greater glory for a man while yet he lives, than that which he achieves

by hand and foot. Come, then, make essay, and cast away care from thy

soul: thy journey shall not now be long delayed; lo, thy ship is even

now drawn down to the sea, and the men of thy company are ready.”

And Odysseus of many counsels answered him, saying; “Laodamas,

wherefore do ye mock me, requiring this thing of me? Sorrow is far

nearer my heart than sports, for much have I endured and laboured

sorely in time past, and now I sit in this your gathering, craving my

return, and making my prayer to the king and all the people.”

And Euryalus answered, and rebuked him to his face: “No truly,

stranger, nor do I think thee at all like one that is skilled in games,

whereof there are many among men, rather art thou such an one as comes

and goes in a benched ship, a master of sailors that are merchantmen,

one with a memory for his freight, or that hath the charge of a cargo

homeward bound, and of greedily gotten gains; thou seemest not a man of

thy hands.”

Then Odysseus of many counsels looked fiercely on him and said:

“Stranger, thou hast not spoken well; thou art like a man presumptuous.

So true it is that the gods do not give every gracious gift to all,

neither shapeliness, nor wisdom, nor skilled speech. For one man is

feebler than another in presence, yet the god crowns his words with

beauty, and men behold him and rejoice, and his speech runs surely on

his way with a sweet modesty, and he shines forth among the gathering

of his people, and as he passes through the town men gaze on him as a

god. Another again is like the deathless gods for beauty, but his words

have no crown of grace about them; even as thou art in comeliness

pre-eminent, nor could a god himself fashion thee for the better, but

in wit thou art a weakling. Yea, thou hast stirred my spirit in my

breast by speaking thus amiss. I am not all unversed in sports, as thy

words go, but methinks I was among the foremost while as yet I trusted

in my youth and my hands, but now am I holden in misery and pains: for

I have endured much in passing through the wars of men and the grievous

waves of the sea. Yet even so, for all my affliction, I will essay the

games, for thy word hath bitten to the quick, and thou hast roused me

with thy saying.”

He spake, and clad even as he was in his mantle leaped to his feet, and

caught up a weight larger than the rest, a huge weight heavier far than

those wherewith the Phaeacians contended in casting. With one whirl he

sent it from his stout hand, and the stone flew hurtling: and the

Phaeacians, of the long oars, those mariners renowned, crouched to

earth beneath the rushing of the stone. Beyond all the marks it flew,

so lightly it sped from his hand, and Athene in the fashion of a man

marked the place, and spake and hailed him:

“Yea, even a blind man, stranger, might discern that token if he groped

for it, for it is in no wise lost among the throng of the others, but

is far the first; for this bout then take heart: not one of the

Phaeacians shall attain thereunto or overpass it.”

So spake she; and the steadfast goodly Odysseus rejoiced and was glad,

for that he saw a true friend in the lists. Then with a lighter heart

he spake amid the Phaeacians:

“Now reach ye this throw, young men, if ye may; and soon, methinks,

will I cast another after it, as far or yet further. And whomsoever of

the rest his heart and spirit stir thereto, hither let him come and try

the issue with me, in boxing or in wrestling or even in the foot race,

I care not which, for ye have greatly angered me: let any of all the

Phaeacians come save Laodamas alone, for he is mine host: who would

strive with one that entreated him kindly? Witless and worthless is the

man, whoso challengeth his host that receiveth him in a strange land,

he doth but maim his own estate. But for the rest, I refuse none and

hold none lightly, but I fain would know and prove them face to face.

For I am no weakling in all sports, even in the feats of men. I know

well how to handle the polished bow, and ever the first would I be to

shoot and smite my man in the press of foes, even though many of my

company stood by, and were aiming at the enemy. Alone Philoctetes in

the Trojan land surpassed me with the bow in our Achaean archery. But I

avow myself far more excellent than all besides, of the mortals that

are now upon the earth and live by bread. Yet with the men of old time

I would not match me, neither with Heracles nor with Eurytus of

Oechalia, who contended even with the deathless gods for the prize of

archery. Wherefore the great Eurytus perished all too soon, nor did old

age come on him in his halls, for Apollo slew him in his wrath, seeing

that he challenged him to shoot a match. And with the spear I can throw

further than any other man can shoot an arrow. Only I doubt that in the

foot race some of the Phaeacians may outstrip me, for I have been

shamefully broken in many waters, seeing that there was no continual

sustenance on board; wherefore my knees are loosened.”

So spake he and all kept silence; and Alcinous alone answered him,

saying:

“Stranger, forasmuch as these thy words are not ill-taken in our

gathering, but thou wouldest fain show forth the valour which keeps

thee company, being angry that yonder man stood by thee in the lists,

and taunted thee, in such sort as no mortal would speak lightly of

thine excellence, who had knowledge of sound words; nay now, mark my

speech; so shalt thou have somewhat to tell another hero, when with thy

wife and children thou suppest in thy halls, and recallest our prowess,

what deeds Zeus bestoweth even upon us from our fathers’ days even

until now. For we are no perfect boxers, nor wrestlers, but speedy

runners, and the best of seamen; and dear to us ever is the banquet,

and the harp, and the dance, and changes of raiment, and the warm bath,

and love, and sleep. Lo, now arise, ye dancers of the Phaeacians, the

best in the land, and make sport, that so the stranger may tell his

friends, when he returneth home, how far we surpass all men besides in

seamanship, and speed of foot, and in the dance and song. And let one

go quickly, and fetch for Demodocus the loud lyre which is lying

somewhere in our halls.”

So spake Alcinous the godlike, and the henchman rose to bear the hollow

lyre from the king’s palace. Then stood up nine chosen men in all, the

judges of the people, who were wont to order all things in the lists

aright. So they levelled the place for the dance, and made a fair ring

and a wide. And the henchman drew near bearing the loud lyre to

Demodocus, who gat him into the midst, and round him stood boys in

their first bloom, skilled in the dance, and they smote the good floor

with their feet. And Odysseus gazed at the twinklings of the feet, and

marvelled in spirit.

Now as the minstrel touched the lyre, he lifted up his voice in sweet

song, and he sang of the love of Ares and Aphrodite, of the fair crown,

how at the first they lay together in the house of Hephaestus privily;

and Ares gave her many gifts, and dishonoured the marriage bed of the

lord Hephaestus. And anon there came to him one to report the thing,

even Helios, that had seen them at their pastime. Now when Hephaestus

heard the bitter tidings, he went his way to the forge, devising evil

in the deep of his heart, and set the great anvil on the stithy, and

wrought fetters that none might snap or loosen, that the lovers might

there unmoveably remain. Now when he had forged the crafty net in his

anger against Ares, he went on his way to the chamber where his

marriage bed was set out, and strewed his snares all about the posts of

the bed, and many too were hung aloft from the main beam, subtle as

spiders’ webs, so that none might see them, even of the blessed gods:

so cunningly were they forged. Now after he had done winding the snare

about the bed, he made as though he would go to Lemnos, that stablished

castle, and this was far the dearest of all lands in his sight. But

Ares of the golden rein kept no blind watch, what time he saw

Hephaestus, the famed craftsman, depart afar. So he went on his way to

the house of renowned Hephaestus, eager for the love of crowned

Cytherea. Now she was but newly come from her sire, the mighty Cronion,

and as it chanced had sat her down; and Ares entered the house, and

clasped her hand, and spake, and hailed her:

“Come, my beloved, let us to bed, and take our pleasure of love, for

Hephaestus is no longer among his own people; methinks he is already

gone to Lemnos, to the Sintians, men of savage speech.”

So spake he, and a glad thing it seemed to her to lie with him. So they

twain went to the couch, and laid them to sleep, and around them clung

the cunning bonds of skilled Hephaestus, so that they could not move

nor raise a limb. Then at the last they knew it, when there was no way

to flee. Now the famous god of the strong arms drew near to them,

having turned him back ere he reached the land of Lemnos. For Helios

had kept watch, and told him all. So heavy at heart he went his way to

his house, and stood at the entering in of the gate, and wild rage gat

hold of him, and he cried terribly, and shouted to all the gods:

“Father Zeus, and ye other blessed gods, that live for ever, come

hither, that ye may see a mirthful thing and a cruel, for that

Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, ever dishonours me by reason of my

lameness, and sets her heart on Ares the destroyer, because he is fair

and straight of limb, but as for me, feeble was I born. Howbeit, there

is none to blame but my father and mother,—would they had never

begotten me! But now shall ye see where these have gone up into my bed,

and sleep together in love; and I am troubled at the sight. Yet,

methinks, they will not care to lie thus even for a little while

longer, despite their great love. Soon will they have no desire to

sleep together, but the snare and the bond shall hold them, till her

sire give back to me the gifts of wooing, one and all, those that I

bestowed upon him for the hand of his shameless girl; for that his

daughter is fair, but without discretion.”

So spake he; and lo, the gods gathered together to the house of the

brazen floor. Poseidon came, the girdler of the earth, and Hermes came,

the bringer of luck, and prince Apollo came, the archer. But the lady

goddesses abode each within her house for shame. So the gods, the

givers of good things, stood in the porch: and laughter unquenchable

arose among the blessed gods, as they beheld the sleight of cunning

Hephaestus. And thus would one speak, looking to his neighbour:

“Ill deed, ill speed! The slow catcheth the swift! Lo, how Hephaestus,

slow as he is, hath overtaken Ares, albeit he is the swiftest of the

gods that hold Olympus, by his craft hath he taken him despite his

lameness; wherefore surely Ares oweth the fine of the adulterer.” Thus

they spake one to the other. But the lord Apollo, son of Zeus, spake to

Hermes:

“Hermes, son of Zeus, messenger and giver of good things, wouldst thou

be fain, aye, pressed by strong bonds though it might be, to lie on the

couch by golden Aphrodite?”

Then the messenger, the slayer of Argos, answered him: “I would that

this might be, Apollo, my prince of archery! So might thrice as many

bonds innumerable encompass me about, and all ye gods be looking on and

all the goddesses, yet would I lie by golden Aphrodite.”

So spake he, and laughter rose among the deathless gods. Howbeit,

Poseidon laughed not, but was instant with Hephaestus, the renowned

artificer, to loose the bonds of Ares: and he uttered his voice, and

spake to him winged words:

“Loose him, I pray thee, and I promise even as thou biddest me, that he

shall himself pay all fair forfeit in the presence of the deathless

gods.”

Then the famous god of the strong arms answered him: “Require not this

of me, Poseidon, girdler of the earth. Evil are evil folk’s pledges to

hold. How could I keep thee bound among the deathless gods, if Ares

were to depart, avoiding the debt and the bond?”

Then Poseidon answered him, shaker of the earth: “Hephaestus, even if

Ares avoid the debt and flee away, I myself will pay thee all.”

Then the famous god of the strong arms answered him: “It may not be

that I should say thee nay, neither is it meet.”

Therewith the mighty Hephaestus loosed the bonds, and the twain, when

they were freed from that strong bond, sprang up straightway, and

departed, he to Thrace, but laughter-loving Aphrodite went to Paphos of

Cyprus, where is her precinct and fragrant altar. There the Graces

bathed and anointed her with oil imperishable, such as is laid upon the

everlasting gods. And they clad her in lovely raiment, a wonder to see.

This was the song the famous minstrel sang; and Odysseus listened and

was glad at heart, and likewise did the Phaeacians, of the long oars,

those mariners renowned.

Then Alcinous bade Halius and Laodamas dance alone, for none ever

contended with them. So when they had taken in their hands the goodly

ball of purple hue, that cunning Polybus had wrought for them, the one

would bend backwards, and throw it towards the shadowy clouds; and the

other would leap upward from the earth, and catch it lightly in his

turn, before his feet touched the ground. Now after they had made trial

of throwing the ball straight up, the twain set to dance upon the

bounteous earth, tossing the ball from hand to hand, and the other

youths stood by the lists and beat time, and a great din uprose.

Then it was that goodly Odysseus spake unto Alcinous: “My lord

Alcinous, most notable among all the people, thou didst boast thy

dancers to be the best in the world, and lo, thy words are fulfilled; I

wonder as I look on them.”

So spake he, and the mighty king Alcinous rejoiced and spake at once

among the Phaeacians, masters of the oar:

“Hearken ye, captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, this stranger

seems to me a wise man enough. Come then, let us give him a stranger’s

gift, as is meet. Behold, there are twelve glorious princes who rule

among this people and bear sway, and I myself am the thirteenth. Now

each man among you bring a fresh robe and a doublet, and a talent of

fine gold, and let us speedily carry all these gifts together, that the

stranger may take them in his hands, and go to supper with a glad

heart. As for Euryalus, let him yield amends to the man himself, with

soft speech and with a gift, for his was no gentle saying.”

So spake he, and they all assented thereto, and would have it so. And

each one sent forth his henchman to fetch his gift, and Euryalus

answered the king and spake, saying:

“My lord Alcinous, most notable among all the people, I will make

atonement to thy guest according to thy word. I will give him a hanger

all of bronze, with a silver hilt thereto, and a sheath of fresh-sawn

ivory covers it about, and it shall be to him a thing of price.”

Therewith he puts into his hands the hanger dight with silver, and

uttering his voice spake to him winged words: “Hail, stranger and

father; and if aught grievous hath been spoken, may the storm-winds

soon snatch and bear it away. But may the gods grant thee to see thy

wife and to come to thine own country, for all too long has thou

endured affliction away from thy friends.”

And Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: “Thou too, my

friend, all hail; and may the gods vouchsafe thee happiness, and mayst

thou never miss this sword which thou hast given me, thou that with

soft speech hast yielded me amends.”

He spake and hung about his shoulders the silver-studded sword. And the

sun sank, and the noble gifts were brought him. Then the proud henchmen

bare them to the palace of Alcinous, and the sons of noble Alcinous

took the fair gifts, and set them by their reverend mother. And the

mighty king Alcinous led the way, and they came in and sat them down on

the high seats. And the mighty Alcinous spake unto Arete:

“Bring me hither, my lady, a choice coffer, the best thou hast, and

thyself place therein a fresh robe and a doublet, and heat for our

guest a cauldron on the fire, and warm water, that after the bath the

stranger may see all the gifts duly arrayed which the noble Phaeacians

bare hither, and that he may have joy in the feast, and in hearing the

song of the minstrelsy. Also I will give him a beautiful golden chalice

of mine own, that he may be mindful of me all the days of his life when

he poureth the drink-offering to Zeus and to the other gods.”

So spake he, and Arete bade her handmaids to set a great cauldron on

the fire with what speed they might. And they set the cauldron for the

filling of the bath on the blazing fire, and poured water therein, and

took faggots and kindled them beneath. So the fire began to circle

round the belly of the cauldron, and the water waxed hot. Meanwhile

Arete brought forth for her guest the beautiful coffer from the

treasure chamber, and bestowed fair gifts therein, raiment and gold,

which the Phaeacians gave him. And with her own hands she placed

therein a robe and goodly doublet, and uttering her voice spake to him

winged words:

“Do thou now look to the lid, and quickly tie the knot, lest any man

spoil thy goods by the way, when presently thou fallest on sweet sleep

travelling in thy black ship.”

Now when the steadfast goodly Odysseus heard this saying, forthwith he

fixed on the lid, and quickly tied the curious knot, which the lady

Circe on a time had taught him. Then straightway the housewife bade him

go to the bath and bathe him; and he saw the warm water and was glad,

for he was not wont to be so cared for, from the day that he left the

house of fair-tressed Calypso, but all that while he had comfort

continually as a god.

Now after the maids had bathed him and anointed him with olive oil, and

had cast a fair mantle and a doublet upon him, he stept forth from the

bath, and went to be with the chiefs at their wine. And Nausicaa,

dowered with beauty by the gods, stood by the pillar of the

well-builded roof, and marvelled at Odysseus, beholding him before her

eyes, and she uttered her voice and spake to him winged words:

“Farewell, stranger, and even in thine own country bethink thee of me

upon a time, for that to me first thou owest the ransom of life.”

And Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: “Nausicaa, daughter

of great-hearted Alcinous, yea, may Zeus, the thunderer, the lord of

Here, grant me to reach my home and see the day of my returning; so

would I, even there, do thee worship as to a god, all my days for

evermore, for thou, lady, hast given me my life.”

He spake and sat him in the high seat by king Alcinous. And now they

were serving out the portions and mixing the wine. Then the henchmen

drew nigh leading the sweet minstrel, Demodocus, that was had in honour

of the people. So he set him in the midst of the feasters, and made him

lean against a tall column. Then to the henchman spake Odysseus of many

counsels, for he had cut off a portion of the chine of a white-toothed

boar, whereon yet more was left, with rich fat on either side:

“Lo, henchman, take this mess, and hand it to Demodocus, that he may

eat, and I will bid him hail, despite my sorrow. For minstrels from all

men on earth get their meed of honour and worship; inasmuch as the Muse

teacheth them the paths of song, and loveth the tribe of minstrels.”

Thus he spake, and the henchman bare the mess, and set it upon the

knees of the lord Demodocus, and he took it, and was glad at heart.

Then they stretched forth their hands upon the good cheer set before

them. Now after they had put from them the desire of meat and drink,

then Odysseus of many counsels spake to Demodocus, saying:

“Demodocus, I praise thee far above all mortal men, whether it be the

Muse, the daughter of Zeus, that taught thee, or even Apollo, for right

duly dost thou chant the faring of the Achaeans, even all that they

wrought and suffered, and all their travail, as if, methinks, thou

hadst been present, or heard the tale from another. Come now, change

thy strain, and sing of the fashioning of the horse of wood, which

Epeius made by the aid of Athene, even the guileful thing, that goodly

Odysseus led up into the citadel, when he had laden it with the men who

wasted Ilios. If thou wilt indeed rehearse me this aright, so will I be

thy witness among all men, how the god of his grace hath given thee the

gift of wondrous song.”

So spake he, and the minstrel, being stirred by the god, began and

showed forth his minstrelsy. He took up the tale where it tells how the

Argives of the one part set fire to their huts, and went aboard their

decked ships and sailed away, while those others, the fellowship of

renowned Odysseus, were now seated in the assembly-place of the

Trojans, all hidden in the horse, for the Trojans themselves had

dragged him to the citadel. So the horse stood there, while seated all

around him the people spake many things confusedly and three ways their

counsel looked; either to cleave the hollow timber with the pitiless

spear, or to drag it to the brow of the hill, and hurl it from the

rocks, or to leave it as a mighty offering to appease the gods. And on

this wise it was to be at the last. For the doom was on them to perish

when their city should have closed upon the great horse of wood,

wherein sat all the bravest of the Argives, bearing to the Trojans

death and destiny. And he sang how the sons of the Achaeans poured

forth from the horse, and left the hollow lair, and sacked the burg.

And he sang how and where each man wasted the town, and of Odysseus,

how he went like Ares to the house of Deiphobus with godlike Menelaus.

It was there, he said, that Odysseus adventured the most grievous

battle, and in the end prevailed, by grace of great-hearted Athene.

This was the song that the famous minstrel sang. But the heart of

Odysseus melted, and the tear wet his cheeks beneath the eyelids. And

as a woman throws herself wailing about her dear lord, who hath fallen

before his city and the host, warding from his town and his children

the pitiless day; and she beholds him dying and drawing difficult

breath, and embracing his body wails aloud, while the foemen behind

smite her with spears on back and shoulders and lead her up into

bondage, to bear labour and trouble, and with the most pitiful grief

her cheeks are wasted; even so pitifully fell the tears beneath the

brows of Odysseus. Now none of all the company marked him weeping; but

Alcinous alone noted it, and was ware thereof, as he sat nigh him and

heard him groaning heavily. And presently he spake among the

Phaeacians, masters of the oar:

“Hearken, ye captains and counsellors of the Phaeacians, and now let

Demodocus hold his hand from the loud lyre, for this song of his is

nowise pleasing alike to all. From the time that we began to sup, and

that the divine minstrel was moved to sing, ever since hath yonder

stranger never ceased from woeful lamentation: sore grief, methinks,

hath encompassed his heart. Nay, but let the minstrel cease, that we

may all alike make merry, hosts and guest, since it is far meeter so.

For all these things are ready for the sake of the honourable stranger,

even the convoy and the loving gifts which we give him out of our love.

In a brother’s place stand the stranger and the suppliant, to him whose

wits have even a little range, wherefore do thou too hide not now with

crafty purpose aught whereof I ask thee; it were more meet for thee to

tell it out. Say, what is the name whereby they called thee at home,

even thy father and thy mother, and others thy townsmen and the

dwellers round about? For there is none of all mankind nameless,

neither the mean man nor yet the noble, from the first hour of his

birth, but parents bestow a name on every man so soon as he is born.

Tell me too of thy land, thy township, and thy city, that our ships may

conceive of their course to bring thee thither. For the Phaeacians have

no pilots nor any rudders after the manner of other ships, but their

barques themselves understand the thoughts and intents of men; they

know the cities and fat fields of every people, and most swiftly they

traverse the gulf of the salt sea, shrouded in mist and cloud, and

never do they go in fear of wreck or ruin. Howbeit I heard upon a time

this word thus spoken by my father Nausithous, who was wont to say that

Poseidon was jealous of us for that we give safe escort to all men. He

said that the god would some day smite a well-wrought ship of the

Phaeacians as she came home from a convoy over the misty deep, and

would overshadow our city with a great mountain. Thus that ancient one

would speak, and thus the god may bring it about, or leave it undone,

according to the good pleasure of his will. But come now, declare me

this and plainly tell it all; whither wast thou borne wandering, and to

what shores of men thou camest; tell me of the people and of their

fair-lying cities, of those whoso are hard and wild and unjust, and of

those likewise who are hospitable and of a god-fearing mind. Declare,

too, wherefore thou dost weep and mourn in spirit at the tale of the

faring of the Argive Danaans and the lay of Ilios. All this the gods

have fashioned, and have woven the skein of death for men, that there

might be a song in the ears even of the folk of aftertime. Hadst thou

even a kinsman by marriage that fell before Ilios, a true man, a

daughter’s husband or wife’s father, such as are nearest us after those

of our own stock and blood? Or else, may be, some loving friend, a good

man and true; for a friend with an understanding heart is no whit worse

than a brother.”

The Odyssey of Homer(#1728) · 第 8 / 24 章