a sudden came a mighty clap of thunder: we woke; jumped up; provisioned;
put off. In three days we were at the Isle of Ogygia, where we landed.
Before delivering the letter, I opened and read it; here are the
contents: _ODYSSEUS TO CALYPSO, GREETING. Know that in the faraway days
when I built my raft and sailed away from you, I suffered shipwreck; I
was hard put to it, but Leucothea brought me safe to the land of the
Phaeacians; they gave me passage home, and there I found a great company
suing for my wife's hand and living riotously upon our goods. All them I
slew, and in after years was slain by Telegonus, the son that Circe bare
me. And now I am in the Island of the Blest, ruing the day when I left
the life I had with you, and the everlasting life you proffered. I watch
for opportunity, and meditate escape and return_. Some words were
added, commending us to her hospitality.
A little way from the sea I found the cave just as it is in Homer, and
herself therein at her spinning. She took and read the letter, wept for a
space, and then offered us entertainment; royally she feasted us, putting
questions the while about Odysseus and Penelope; what were her looks? and
was she as discreet as Odysseus had been used to vaunt her? To which we
made such answers as we thought she would like.
Leaving her, we went on board, and spent the night at anchor just off
shore; in the morning we started with a stiff breeze, which grew to a
gale lasting two days; on the third day we fell in with the Pumpkin-
pirates. These are savages of the neighbouring islands who prey upon
passing ships. They use large boats made of pumpkins ninety feet long.
The pumpkin is dried and hollowed out by removal of the pulp, and the
boat is completed by the addition of cane masts and pumpkin-leaf sails.
Two boatfuls of them engaged us, and we had many casualties from their
pumpkin-seed missiles. The fight was long and well matched; but about
noon we saw a squadron of Nut-tars coming up in rear of the enemy. It
turned out that the two parties were at war; for as soon as our
assailants observed the others, they left us alone and turned to engage
them.
Meanwhile we hoisted sail and made the best of our way off, leaving them
to fight it out. It was clear that the Nut-tars must win, as they had
both superior numbers--there were five sail of them--and stronger
vessels. These were made of nutshells, halved and emptied, measuring
ninety feet from stem to stern. As soon as they were hull down, we
attended to our wounded; and from that time we made a practice of keeping
on our armour, to be in instant readiness for an attack--no vain
precaution either.
Before sunset, for instance, there assailed us from a bare island some
twenty men mounted on large dolphins--pirates again. Their dolphins
carried them quite well, curvetting and neighing. When they got near,
they divided, and subjected us to a cross fire of dry cuttlefish and
crabs' eyes. But our arrows and javelins were too much for them, and
they fled back to the island, few of them unwounded.
At midnight, in calm weather, we found ourselves colliding with an
enormous halcyon's nest; it was full seven miles round. The halcyon was
brooding, not much smaller herself than the nest. She got up, and very
nearly capsized us with the fanning of her wings; however, she went off
with a melancholy cry. When it was getting light, we got on to the nest,
and found on examination that it was composed like a vast raft of large
trees. There were five hundred eggs, larger in girth than a tun of Chian.
We could make out the chicks inside and hear them croaking; we hewed open
one egg with hatchets, and dug out an unfledged chick bulkier than twenty
vultures.
Sailing on, we had left the nest some five and twenty miles behind, when
a miracle happened. The wooden goose of our stern-post suddenly clapped
its wings and started cackling; Scintharus, who was bald, recovered his
hair; most striking of all, the ship's mast came to life, putting forth
branches sideways, and fruit at the top; this fruit was figs, and a bunch
of black grapes, not yet ripe. These sights naturally disturbed us, and
we fell to praying the Gods to avert any disaster they might portend.
We had proceeded something less than fifty miles when we saw a great
forest, thick with pines and cypresses. This we took for the mainland;
but it was in fact deep sea, set with trees; they had no roots, but yet
remained in their places, floating upright, as it were. When we came near
and realized the state of the case, we could not tell what to do; it was
impossible to sail between the trees, which were so close as to touch one
another, and we did not like the thought of turning back. I climbed the
tallest tree to get a good view, and found that the wood was five or six
miles across, and was succeeded by open water. So we determined to hoist
the ship on to the top of the foliage, which was very dense, and get her
across to the other sea, if possible. It proved to be so. We attached a
strong cable, got up on the tree-tops, and hauled her after us with some
difficulty; then we laid her on the branches, hoisted sail, and floating
thus were propelled by the wind. A line of Antimachus came into my head:
And as they voyaged thus the woodland through--
Well, we made our way over and reached the water, into which we let her
down in the same way. We then sailed through clear transparent sea, till
we found ourselves on the edge of a great gorge which divided water from
water, like the land fissures which are often produced by earthquakes. We
got the sails down and brought her to just in time to escape making the
plunge. We could bend over and see an awful mysterious gulf perhaps a
hundred miles deep, the water standing wall against wall. A glance round
showed us not far off to the right a water bridge which spanned the
chasm, and gave a moving surface crossing from one sea to the other. We
got out the sweeps, pulled her to the bridge, and with great exertions
effected that astonishing passage.
There followed a sail through smooth water, and then a small island, easy
of approach, and inhabited; its occupants were the Ox-heads, savage men
with horns, after the fashion of our poets' Minotaur. We landed and went
in search of water and provisions, of which we were now in want. The
water we found easily, but nothing else; we heard, however, not far off,
a numerous lowing; supposing it to indicate a herd of cows, we went a
little way towards it, and came upon these men. They gave chase as soon
as they saw us, and seized three of my comrades, the rest of us getting
off to sea. We then armed--for we would not leave our friends unavenged--
and in full force fell on the Ox-heads as they were dividing our
slaughtered men's flesh. Our combined shout put them to flight, and in
the pursuit we killed about fifty, took two alive, and returned with our
captives. We had found nothing to eat; the general opinion was for
slaughtering the prisoners; but I refused to accede to this, and kept
them in bonds till an embassy came from the Ox-heads to ransom them; so
we understood the motions they made, and their tearful supplicatory
lowings. The ransom consisted of a quantity of cheese, dried fish,
onions, and four deer; these were three-footed, the two forefeet being
joined into one. In exchange for all this we restored the prisoners, and
after one day's further stay departed.
By this time we were beginning to observe fish, birds on the wing, and
other signs of land not far off; and we shortly saw men, practising a
mode of navigation new to us; for they were boat and crew in one. The
method was this: they float on their backs, erect a sail, and then,
holding the sheets with their hands, catch the wind. These were succeeded
by others who sat on corks, to which were harnessed pairs of dolphins,
driven with reins. They neither attacked nor avoided us, but drove along
in all confidence and peace, admiring the shape of our craft and
examining it all round.
That evening we touched at an island of no great size. It was occupied by
what we took for women, talking Greek. They came and greeted us with
kisses, were attired like courtesans, all young and fair, and with long
robes sweeping the ground. Cabbalusa was the name of the island, and
Hydramardia the city's. These women paired off with us and led the way to
their separate homes. I myself tarried a little, under the influence of
some presentiment, and looking more closely observed quantities of human
bones and skulls lying about. I did not care to raise an alarm, gather my
men, and resort to arms; instead, I drew out my mallow, and prayed
earnestly to it for escape from our perilous position. Shortly after, as
my hostess was serving me, I saw that in place of human feet she had
ass's hoofs; whereupon I drew my sword, seized, bound, and closely
questioned her. Reluctantly enough she had to confess; they were sea-
women called Ass-shanks, and their food was travellers. 'When we have
made them drunk,' she said, 'and gone to rest with them, we overpower
them in their sleep.' After this confession I left her there bound, went
up on to the roof, and shouted for my comrades. When they appeared, I
repeated it all to them, showed them the bones, and brought them in to
see my prisoner; she at once vanished, turning to water; however, I
thrust my sword into this experimentally, upon which the water became
blood.
Then we marched hurriedly down to our ship and sailed away. With the
first glimmering of dawn we made out a mainland, which we took for the
continent that faces our own. We reverently saluted it, made prayer, and
held counsel upon our best course. Some were for merely landing and
turning back at once, others for leaving the ship, and going into the
interior to make trial of the inhabitants. But while we were
deliberating, a great storm arose, which dashed us, a complete wreck, on
the shore. We managed to swim to land, each snatching up his arms and
anything else he could.
Such are the adventures that befell me up to our arrival at that other
continent: our sea-voyage; our cruise among the islands and in the air;
then our experiences in and after the whale; with the Heroes; with the
dreams; and finally with the Ox-heads and the Ass-shanks. Our fortunes on
the continent will be the subject of the following books.
THE TYRANNICIDE
_A man forces his way into the stronghold of a tyrant, with the
intention of killing him. Not finding the tyrant himself, he kills his
son, and leaves the sword sticking in his body. The tyrant, coming, and
finding his son dead, slays himself with the same sword.--The assailant
now claims that the killing of the son entitles him to the reward of
tyrannicide._
Two tyrants--a father advanced in years, a son in the prime of life,
waiting only to step into his nefarious heritage--have fallen by my hand
on a single day: I come before this court, claiming but one reward for my
twofold service. My case is unique. With one blow I have rid you of two
monsters: with my sword I slew the son; grief for the son slew the
father. The misdeeds of the tyrant are sufficiently punished: he has
lived to see his son perish untimely; and--wondrous sequel!--the tyrant's
own hand has freed us from tyranny. I slew the son, and used his death to
slay another: in his life he shared the iniquities of his father; in his
death, so far as in him lay, he was a parricide. Mine is the hand that
freed you, mine the sword that accomplished all: as to the order and
manner of procedure, there, indeed, I have deviated from the common
practice of tyrannicides: I slew the son, who had strength to resist me,
and left my sword to deal with the aged father. In acting thus, I had
thought to increase your obligation to me; a twofold deliverance--I had
supposed--would entitle me to a twofold reward; for I have freed you not
from tyranny alone, but from the fear of tyranny, and by removing the
heir of iniquity have made your salvation sure. And now it seems that my
services are to go for nothing; I, the preserver of the constitution, am
to forgo the recompense prescribed by its laws. It is surely from no
patriotic motive, as he asserts, that my adversary disputes my claim;
rather it is from grief at the loss of the tyrants, and a desire to
avenge their death.
Bear with me, gentlemen, for a little, while I dwell in some detail upon
those evils of tyranny with which you are only too familiar; I shall thus
enable you to realize the extent of my services, and to enjoy the
contemplation of sufferings from which you have escaped. Ours was not the
common experience: we had not _one_ tyranny, _one_ servitude to
endure, we were not subjected to the caprice of a single master. Other
cities have had their tyrant: it was reserved for us to have two tyrants
at once, to groan beneath a double oppression. That of the old man was
light by comparison, his anger mildness, his resentment long-suffering;
age had blunted his passions, checked their headlong impetus, and curbed
the lust of pleasure. His crimes, so it is said, were involuntary;
resulting from no tyrannical disposition in himself, but from the
instigations of his son. For in him paternal affection had too clearly
become a mania; his son was all in all to him; he did his bidding,
committed every crime at his pleasure, dealt out punishment at his
command, was subservient to him in all things; the minister of a tyrant's
caprice, and that tyrant his son. The young man left him in possession of
the name and semblance of rule; so much he conceded to his years: but in
all essentials _he_ was the real tyrant. By him the power of the
tyrant was upheld; by him and by him alone the fruits of tyranny were
gathered. He it was who maintained the garrison, intimidated the victims
of oppression, and butchered those who meditated resistance; who laid
violent hands on boys and maidens, and trampled on the sanctity of
marriage. Murder, banishment, confiscation, torture, brutality; all
bespeak the wantonness of youth. The father followed his son's lead, and
had no word of blame for the crimes in which he participated. Our
situation became unbearable: for when the promptings of passion draw
support from the authority of rule, then iniquity knows no further
bounds.
We knew moreover (and here was the bitterest thought of all) that our
servitude must endure--ay, endure for ever; that our city was doomed to
pass in unending succession from master to master, to be the heritage of
the oppressor. To others it is no small consolation that they may count
the days, and say in their hearts: 'The end will be soon; he will die,
and we shall be free.' We had no such hope: there stood the heir of
tyranny before our eyes. There were others--men of spirit--who cherished
like designs with myself; yet all lacked resolution to strike the blow;
freedom was despaired of; to contend against a succession of tyrants
seemed a hopeless task.
Yet I was not deterred. I had reckoned the difficulties of my
undertaking, and shrank not back, but faced the danger. Alone, I issued
forth to cope with tyranny in all its might. Alone, did I say? nay, not
alone; I had my sword for company, my ally and partner in tyrannicide. I
saw what the end was like to be: and, seeing it, resolved to purchase
your freedom with my blood. I grappled with the outer watch, with
difficulty routed the guards, slew all I met, broke down all resistance,
--and so to the fountain-head, the well-spring of tyranny, the source of
all our calamities; within his stronghold I found him, and there slew him
with many wounds, fighting valiantly for his life.
From that moment, my end was gained: tyranny was destroyed; we were free
men. There remained the aged father, alone, unarmed, desolate; his guards
scattered, his strong protector slain; no adversary this for a brave man.
And now I debated within myself: 'My work is done, my aim achieved, all
is as I would have it. And how shall this remnant of tyranny be punished?
He is unworthy of the hand that shed that other blood: the glory of a
noble enterprise shall not be so denied. No, let some other executioner
be found. It were too much happiness for him to die, and never know the
worst; let him see all, for his punishment, and let the sword be ready to
his hand; to that sword I leave the rest.' In this design I withdrew; and
the sword--as I had foreseen--did its office, slew the tyrant, and put
the finishing touch to my work. And now I come to you, bringing democracy
with me, and call upon all men to take heart, and hear the glad tidings
of liberty. Enjoy the work of my hands! You see the citadel cleared of
the oppressors; you are under no man's orders; the law holds its course;
honours are awarded, judgements given, pleadings heard. And all springs
from one bold stroke, from the slaying of that son whom his father might
not survive. I claim from you the recompense that is my due; and that in
no paltry, grasping spirit; it was not for a wage's sake that I sought to
serve my country; but I would have my deed confirmed by your award; I
would not be disparaged by slanderous tongues, as one who attempted and
failed, and was deemed unworthy of honour.
My adversary tells me that I am unreasonable in asking for reward and
distinction. I did not slay the tyrant; I have not fulfilled the
requirements of the statute; there is a flaw in my claim.--And what more
does he want of me? Say: did I flinch? did I not ascend into the citadel?
did I not slay? are we not free men? have we a master? do we hear a
tyrant's threats? did any of the evil-doers escape me?--No; all is peace;
the laws are in force; freedom is assured; democracy is established; our
wives, our daughters are unmolested, our sons are safe; the city keeps
festival in the general joy. And who is the cause of it all? who has
wrought the change? Has any man a prior claim? Then I withdraw; be his
the honour and the reward. But if not--if mine was the deed, mine the
risk, mine the courage to ascend and smite and punish, dealing vengeance
on the father through the son--then why depreciate my services? why seek
to deprive me of a people's gratitude?
'But you did not kill the _tyrant_; the law assigns the reward to
him who kills the tyrant.' And pray what is the difference between
killing him and causing his death? I see none. The law-giver had but one
end in view,--freedom, equality, deliverance from oppression. This was
the signal service that he deemed worthy of recompense; and this service
you cannot deny that I have rendered. In slaying one whom the tyrant
could not survive, I myself wrought the tyrant's death. His was the hand:
the deed was mine. Let us not chop logic as to the manner and
circumstances of his death, but rather ask: has he ceased to exist, and
am I the cause? Your scruples might go further, and object to some future
deliverer of his country, that he struck not with the sword, but with a
stick or a stone or the like. Had I blockaded the tyrant, and brought
about his death by starvation, you would still, I suppose, have objected
that it was not the work of my own hand? Again there would have been a
flaw in my claim? The increased bitterness of such a death would have
counted for nothing with you? Confine your attention to this one
question: does any of our oppressors survive? is there any ground for
anxiety, any vestige of our past misery? If not, if all is peace, then
none but an envious detractor would attempt to deprive me of the reward
of my labours by inquiring into the means employed.
Moreover, it is laid down in our laws (unless after all these years of
servitude my memory plays me false) that blood-guiltiness is of two
kinds. A man may slay another with his own hand, or, without slaying him,
he may put death unavoidably in his way; in the latter case the penalty
is the same as in the former; and rightly, it being the intention of the
law that the cause should rank with the act itself; the manner in which
death is brought about is not the question. You would not acquit a man
who in this sense had slain another; you would punish him as a murderer:
how then can you refuse to reward as a benefactor the man who, by parity
of reasoning, has shown himself to be the liberator of his country?
Nor again can it be objected that all I did was to strike the blow, and
that the resulting benefits were accidental, and formed no part of my
design. What had I to fear, when once the stronger of our oppressors was
slain? And why did I leave my sword in the wound, if not because I
foresaw the very thing that would happen? Are you prepared to deny that
the death so occasioned was that of a tyrant both in name and in fact,
or that his death was an event for which the state would gladly pay an
abundant reward? I think not. If then the tyrant is slain, how can you
withhold the reward from him who occasioned his death? What
scrupulousness is this--to concern yourself with the manner of his end,
while you are enjoying the freedom that results from it? Democracy is
restored: what more can you demand from him who restored it? You refer us
to the terms of the law: well, the law looks only at the end; of the
means it says nothing; it has no concern with them. Has not the reward of
tyrannicide been paid before now to him who merely expelled a tyrant? And
rightly so: for he too has made free men of slaves. But I have done more:
banishment may be followed by restitution: but here the family of tyrants
is utterly annihilated and destroyed; the evil thing is exterminated,
root and branch.
I implore you, gentlemen, to review my conduct from beginning to end, and
see whether there has been any such omission on my part as to make my act
appear less than tyrannicide in the eye of the law. The high patriotic
resolve which prompts a man to face danger for the common good, and to
purchase the salvation of his country at the price of his own life; this
is the first requirement. Have I been wanting here? Have I lacked
courage? Have I shrunk back at the prospect of the dangers through which
I must pass? My enemy cannot say it of me. Now at this stage let us
pause. Consider only the intention, the design, apart from its success;
and suppose that I come before you to claim the reward of patriotism
merely on the ground of my resolve. I have failed, and another, following
in my footsteps, has slain the tyrant. Say, is it unreasonable in such a
case to allow my claim? 'Gentlemen,' I might say, 'the will, the
intention, was mine; I made the attempt, I did what I could; my resolve
entitles me of itself to your reward.' What would my enemy say to that?