THE ADVENTURES OF ULYSSES.
When the great city of Troy was taken, all the chiefs who had fought
against it set sail for their homes. But there was wrath in heaven
against them, for indeed they had borne themselves haughtily and
cruelly in the day of their victory. Therefore they did not all find
a safe and happy return. For one was shipwrecked, and another was
shamefully slain by his false wife in his palace, and others found
all things at home troubled and changed, and were driven to seek new
dwellings elsewhere. And some, whose wives and friends and people had
been still true to them through those ten long years of absence, were
driven far and wide about the world before they saw their native land
again. And of all, the wise Ulysses was he who wandered farthest and
suffered most.
He was well-nigh the last to sail, for he had tarried many days to do
pleasure to Agamemnon, lord of all the Greeks. Twelve ships he had
with him--twelve he had brought to Troy--and in each there were some
fifty men, being scarce half of those that had sailed in them in the
old days, so many valiant heroes slept the last sleep by Simoïs and
Scamander, and in the plain on the sea-shore, slain in battle or by the
shafts of Apollo.
First they sailed north-west to the Thracian coast, where the Ciconians
dwelt, who had helped the men of Troy. Their city they took, and in it
much plunder, slaves and oxen, and jars of fragrant wine, and might
have escaped unhurt, but that they stayed to hold revel on the shore.
For the Ciconians gathered their neighbors, being men of the same
blood, and did battle with the invaders, and drove them to their ship.
And when Ulysses numbered his men, he found that he had lost six out of
each ship.
Scarce had he set out again when the wind began to blow fiercely; so,
seeing a smooth sandy beach, they drave the ships ashore and dragged
them out of reach of the waves, and waited till the storm should abate.
And the third morning being fair, they sailed again, and journeyed
prosperously till they came to the very end of the great Peloponnesian
land, where Cape Malea looks out upon the southern sea. But contrary
currents baffled them, so that they could not round it, and the north
wind blew so strongly that they must fain drive before it. And on the
tenth day they came to the land where the lotus grows--a wondrous
fruit, of which whosoever eats cares not to see country or wife or
children again. Now the Lotus-eaters, for so they called the people
of the land, were a kindly folk, and gave of the fruit to some of the
sailors, not meaning them any harm, but thinking it to be the best that
they had to give. These, when they had eaten, said that they would not
sail any more over the sea; which, when the wise Ulysses heard, he bade
their comrades bind them and carry them, sadly complaining, to the
ships.
Then, the wind having abated, they took to their oars, and rowed for
many days till they came to the country where the Cyclopes dwell.
Now, a mile or so from the shore there was an island, very fair and
fertile, but no man dwells there or tills the soil, and in the island a
harbor where a ship may be safe from all winds, and at the head of the
harbor a stream falling from a rock, and whispering alders all about
it. Into this the ships passed safely, and were hauled up on the beach,
and the crews slept by them, waiting for the morning. And the next
day they hunted the wild goats, of which there was great store on the
island, and feasted right merrily on what they caught, with draughts of
red wine which they had carried off from the town of the Ciconians.
But on the morrow, Ulysses, for he was ever fond of adventure, and
would know of every land to which he came what manner of men they were
that dwelt there, took one of his twelve ships and bade row to the
land. There was a great hill sloping to the shore, and there rose up
here and there a smoke from the caves where the Cyclopes dwelt apart,
holding no converse with each other, for they were a rude and savage
folk, but ruled each his own household, not caring for others. Now very
close to the shore was one of these caves, very huge and deep, with
laurels round about the mouth, and in front a fold with walls built
of rough stone, and shaded by tall oaks and pines. So Ulysses chose
out of the crew the twelve bravest, and bade the rest guard the ship,
and went to see what manner of dwelling this was, and who abode there.
He had his sword by his side, and on his shoulder a mighty skin of
wine, sweet-smelling and strong, with which he might win the heart of
some fierce savage, should he chance to meet with such, as indeed his
prudent heart forecasted that he might.
So they entered the cave, and judged that it was the dwelling of some
rich and skilful shepherd. For within there were pens for the young
of the sheep and of the goats, divided all according to their age, and
there were baskets full of cheeses, and full milkpails ranged along
the wall. But the Cyclops himself was away in the pastures. Then the
companions of Ulysses besought him that he would depart, taking with
him, if he would, a store of cheeses and sundry of the lambs and of
the kids. But he would not, for he wished to see, after his wont, what
manner of host this strange shepherd might be. And truly he saw it to
his cost!
It was evening when the Cyclops came home, a mighty giant, twenty feet
in height, or more. On his shoulder he bore a vast bundle of pine logs
for his fire, and threw them down outside the cave with a great crash,
and drove the flocks within, and closed the entrance with a huge rock,
which twenty wagons and more could not bear. Then he milked the ewes
and all the she-goats, and half of the milk he curdled for cheese, and
half he set ready for himself, when he should sup. Next he kindled a
fire with the pine logs, and the flame lighted up all the cave, showing
him Ulysses and his comrades.
“Who are ye?” cried Polyphemus, for that was the giant’s name. “Are ye
traders, or, haply, pirates?”
For in those days it was not counted shame to be called a pirate.
Ulysses shuddered at the dreadful voice and shape, but bore him
bravely, and answered, “We are no pirates, mighty sir, but Greeks,
sailing back from Troy, and subjects of the great King Agamemnon, whose
fame is spread from one end of heaven to the other. And we are come to
beg hospitality of thee in the name of Zeus, who rewards or punishes
hosts and guests according as they be faithful the one to the other, or
no.”
“Nay,” said the giant, “it is but idle talk to tell me of Zeus and the
other gods. We Cyclopes take no account of gods, holding ourselves to
be much better and stronger than they. But come, tell me where have you
left your ship?”
But Ulysses saw his thought when he asked about the ship, how he was
minded to break it, and take from them all hope of flight. Therefore he
answered him craftily,--
“Ship have we none, for that which was ours King Poseidon brake,
driving it on a jutting rock on this coast, and we whom thou seest are
all that are escaped from the waves.”
Polyphemus answered nothing, but without more ado caught up two of
the men, as a man might catch up the whelps of a dog, and dashed them
on the ground, and tore them limb from limb, and devoured them, with
huge draughts of milk between, leaving not a morsel, not even the very
bones. But the others, when they saw the dreadful deed, could only weep
and pray to Zeus for help. And when the giant had ended his foul meal,
he lay down among his sheep and slept.
Then Ulysses questioned much in his heart whether he should slay the
monster as he slept, for he doubted not that his good sword would
pierce to the giant’s heart, mighty as he was. But, being very wise,
he remembered that, should he slay him, he and his comrades would yet
perish miserably. For who should move away the great rock that lay
against the door of the cave? So they waited till the morning. And the
monster woke, and milked his flocks, and afterwards, seizing two men,
devoured them for his meal. Then he went to the pastures, but put the
great rock on the mouth of the cave, just as a man puts down the lid
upon his quiver.
All that day the wise Ulysses was thinking what he might best do to
save himself and his companions, and the end of his thinking was this:
there was a mighty pole in the cave, green wood of an olive tree, big
as a ship’s mast, which Polyphemus purposed to use, when the smoke
should have dried it, as a walking staff. Of this he cut off a fathom’s
length, and his comrades sharpened it and hardened it in the fire, and
then hid it away. At evening the giant came back, and drove his sheep
into the cave, nor left the rams outside, as he had been wont to do
before, but shut them in. And having duly done his shepherd’s work,
he made his cruel feast as before. Then Ulysses came forward with the
wine-skin in his hand, and said,--
“Drink, Cyclops, now that thou hast feasted. Drink and see what
precious things we had in our ship. But no one hereafter will come to
thee with such like, if thou dealest with strangers as cruelly as thou
hast dealt with us.”
Then the Cyclops drank, and was mightily pleased, and said, “Give me
again to drink, and tell me thy name, stranger, and I will give thee a
gift such as a host should give. In good truth this is a rare liquor.
We, too, have vines, but they bear not wine like this, which indeed
must be such as the gods drink in heaven.”
Then Ulysses gave him the cup again, and he drank. Thrice he gave it
to him, and thrice he drank, not knowing what it was, and how it would
work within his brain.
Then Ulysses spake to him. “Thou didst ask my name, Cyclops. Lo! my
name is No Man. And now that thou knowest my name, thou shouldst give
me thy gift.”
And he said, “My gift shall be that I will eat thee last of all thy
company.”
And as he spoke he fell back in a drunken sleep. Then Ulysses bade his
comrades be of good courage, for the time was come when they should be
delivered. And they thrust the stake of olive wood into the fire till
it was ready, green as it was, to burst into flame, and they thrust it
into the monster’s eye; for he had but one eye, and that in the midst
of his forehead, with the eyebrow below it. And Ulysses leant with all
his force upon the stake, and thrust it in with might and main. And the
burning wood hissed in the eye, just as the red-hot iron hisses in the
water when a man seeks to temper steel for a sword.
Then the giant leapt up, and tore away the stake, and cried aloud, so
that all the Cyclopes who dwelt on the mountain side heard him and
came about his cave, asking him, “What aileth thee, Polyphemus, that
thou makest this uproar in the peaceful night, driving away sleep? Is
any one robbing thee of thy sheep, or seeking to slay thee by craft or
force?”
And the giant answered, “No Man slays me by craft.”
“Nay, but,” they said, “if no man does thee wrong, we cannot help thee.
The sickness which great Zeus may send, who can avoid? Pray to our
father, Poseidon, for help.”
Then they departed; and Ulysses was glad at heart for the good success
of his device, when he said that he was No Man.
But the Cyclops rolled away the great stone from the door of the
cave, and sat in the midst, stretching out his hands to feel whether
perchance the men within the cave would seek to go out among the sheep.
Long did Ulysses think how he and his comrades should best escape. At
last he lighted upon a good device, and much he thanked Zeus for that
this once the giant had driven the rams with the other sheep into the
cave. For, these being great and strong, he fastened his comrades under
the bellies of the beasts, tying them with osier twigs, of which the
giant made his bed. One ram he took, and fastened a man beneath it,
and two others he set, one on either side. So he did with the six, for
but six were left out of the twelve who had ventured with him from the
ship. And there was one mighty ram, far larger than all the others,
and to this Ulysses clung, grasping the fleece tight with both his
hands. So they waited for the morning. And when the morning came, the
rams rushed forth to the pasture; but the giant sat in the door and
felt the back of each as it went by, nor thought to try what might be
underneath. Last of all went the great ram. And the Cyclops knew him as
he passed, and said,--
“How is this, thou, who art the leader of the flock? Thou art not wont
thus to lag behind. Thou hast always been the first to run to the
pastures and streams in the morning, and the first to come back to the
fold when evening fell; and now thou art last of all. Perhaps thou art
troubled about thy master’s eye, which some wretch--No Man, they call
him--has destroyed, having first mastered me with wine. He has not
escaped, I ween. I would that thou couldst speak, and tell me where he
is lurking. Of a truth I would dash out his brains upon the ground, and
avenge me of this No Man.”
So speaking, he let him pass out of the cave. But when they were out
of reach of the giant, Ulysses loosed his hold of the ram, and then
unbound his comrades. And they hastened to their ship, not forgetting
to drive before them a good store of the Cyclops’ fat sheep. Right glad
were those that had abode by the ship to see them. Nor did they lament
for those that had died, though they were fain to do so, for Ulysses
forbade, fearing lest the noise of their weeping should betray them to
the giant, where they were. Then they all climbed into the ship, and
sitting well in order on the benches, smote the sea with their oars,
laying-to right lustily, that they might the sooner get away from the
accursed land. And when they had rowed a hundred yards or so, so that a
man’s voice could yet be heard by one who stood upon the shore, Ulysses
stood up in the ship and shouted,--
“He was no coward, O Cyclops, whose comrades thou didst so foully slay
in thy den. Justly art thou punished, monster, that devourest thy
guests in thy dwelling. May the gods make thee suffer yet worse things
than these!”
Then the Cyclops, in his wrath, broke off the top of a great hill, a
mighty rock, and hurled it where he had heard the voice. Right in front
of the ship’s bow it fell, and a great wave rose as it sank, and washed
the ship back to the shore. But Ulysses seized a long pole with both
hands and pushed the ship from the land, and bade his comrades ply
their oars, nodding with his head, for he was too wise to speak, lest
the Cyclops should know where they were. Then they rowed with all their
might and main.
And when they had gotten twice as far as before, Ulysses made as if he
would speak again; but his comrades sought to hinder him, saying, “Nay,
my lord, anger not the giant any more. Surely we thought before we were
lost, when he threw the great rock, and washed our ship back to the
shore. And if he hear thee now, he may crush our ship and us, for the
man throws a mighty bolt, and throws it far.”
But Ulysses would not be persuaded, but stood up and said, “Hear,
Cyclops! If any man ask who blinded thee, say that it was the warrior
Ulysses, son of Laertes, dwelling in Ithaca.”
And the Cyclops answered with a groan, “Of a truth, the old oracles are
fulfilled, for long ago there came to this land one Telemus, a prophet,
and dwelt among us even to old age. This man foretold to me that one
Ulysses would rob me of my sight. But I looked for a great man and a
strong, who should subdue me by force, and now a weakling has done the
deed, having cheated me with wine. But come thou hither, Ulysses, and
I will be a host indeed to thee. Or, at least, may Poseidon give thee
such a voyage to thy home as I would wish thee to have. For know that
Poseidon is my sire. May be that he may heal me of my grievous wound.”
And Ulysses said, “Would to God I could send thee down to the abode of
the dead, where thou wouldst be past all healing, even from Poseidon’s
self.”
Then Cyclops lifted up his hands to Poseidon and prayed,--
“Hear me, Poseidon, if I am indeed thy son and thou my father. May this
Ulysses never reach his home! or, if the Fates have ordered that he
should reach it, may he come alone, all his comrades lost, and come to
find sore trouble in his house!”
And as he ended he hurled another mighty rock, which almost lighted on
the rudder’s end, yet missed it as by a hair’s breadth. So Ulysses and
his comrades escaped, and came to the island of the wild goats, where
they found their comrades, who indeed had waited long for them, in sore
fear lest they had perished. Then Ulysses divided amongst his company
all the sheep which they had taken from the Cyclops. And all, with one
consent, gave him for his share the great ram which had carried him
out of the cave, and he sacrificed it to Zeus. And all that day they
feasted right merrily on the flesh of sheep and on sweet wine, and when
the night was come, they lay down upon the shore and slept.
After sailing awhile, they came to the island of Æolus, who is the king
of the winds, and who dwelt there with his children, six sons and six
daughters. Right well did Æolus entertain them, feasting them royally
for a whole month, while he heard from Ulysses the story of all that
had been done at Troy. And when Ulysses prayed him that he would help
him on his way homewards, Æolus hearkened to him, and gave him the skin
of an ox in which he had bound all contrary winds, so that they should
not hinder him. But he let a gentle west wind blow, that it might carry
him and his comrades to their home. For nine days it blew and now they
were near to Ithaca, their country, so that they saw lights burning
in it, it being night-time. But now, by an ill chance, Ulysses fell
asleep, being wholly wearied out, for he had held the helm for nine
days, nor trusted it to any of his comrades. And while he slept his
comrades, who had cast eyes of envy on the great ox-hide, said one to
another,--
“Strange it is how men love and honor this Ulysses whithersoever he
goes. And now he comes back from Troy with much spoil, but we with
empty hands. Let us see what it is that Æolus hath given, for doubtless
in this ox-hide is much silver and gold.”
So they loosed the great bag of ox-hide, and lo! all the winds rushed
out, and carried them far away from their country. But Ulysses, waking
with the tumult, doubted much whether he should not throw himself into
the sea and so die. But he endured, thinking it better to live. Only
he veiled his face and so sat, while the ships drave before the winds,
till they came once more to the island of Æolus. Then Ulysses went
to the palace of the king, and found him feasting with his wife and
children, and sat him down on the threshold. Much did they wonder to
see him, saying, “What evil power has hindered thee, that thou didst
not reach thy country and home?”
Then he answered, “Blame not me, but the evil counsels of my comrades,
and sleep, which mastered me to my hurt. But do ye help me again.”
But they said, “Begone; we may not help him whom the gods hate; and
hated of them thou surely art.”
So Æolus sent him away. Then again they launched their ships and set
forth, toiling wearily at the oars, and sad at heart.
Six days they rowed, nor rested at night, and on the seventh they came
to Lamos, which was a city of the Læstrygons, in whose land the night
is as the day, so that a man might earn double wage, if only he wanted
not sleep--shepherd by day and herdsman by night. There was a fair
haven with cliffs about it, and a narrow mouth with great rocks on
either side. And within are no waves, but always calm.
Now Ulysses made fast his ship to the rocks, but the others entered
the haven. Then he sent two men and a herald with them, and these
came upon a smooth road by which waggons brought down wood from the
mountain to the city. Here they met a maiden, the stalwart daughter of
Antiphates, king of the land, and asked of her who was lord of that
country. Whereupon she showed them her father’s lofty palace. And they,
entering this, saw the maiden’s mother, big as a mountain, horrible
to behold, who straightway called to Antiphates, her husband. The
messengers, indeed, fled to the ships; but he made a great shout, and
the Læstrygons came flocking about him, giants, not men. And these
broke off great stones from the cliffs, each stone as much as a man
could carry, and cast them at the ships, so that they were broken. And
the men they speared, as if they were fishes, and devoured them. So it
happened to all the ships in the haven. Ulysses only escaped, for he
cut the hawser with his sword, and bade his men ply their oars, which
indeed they did right willingly.
After a while they came to the island of Ææa, where Circé dwelt, who
was the daughter of the Sun. Two days and nights they lay upon the
shore in great trouble and sorrow. On the third, Ulysses took his spear
and sword and climbed a hill that there was, for he wished to see to
what manner of land they had come. And having climbed it, he saw the
smoke rising from the palace of Circé, where it stood in the midst of
a wood. Then he thought awhile: should he go straightway to the palace
that he saw, or first return to his comrades on the shore? And this
last seemed better; and it chanced that as he went he saw a great stag
which was going down to the river to drink, for indeed the sun was
now hot, and casting his spear at it he pierced it through. Then he
fastened together the feet with green withes and a fathom’s length of
rope, and slinging the beast round his neck, so carried it to the ship,
leaning on his spear; for indeed it was heavy to bear, nor could any
man have carried it on the shoulder with one hand. And when he was come
to the ship, he cast down his burden. Now the men were sitting with
their faces muffled, so sad were they. But when he bade them be of good
cheer, they looked up and marvelled at the great stag. And all that day
they feasted on deer’s flesh and sweet wine, and at night lay down to
sleep on the shore. But when morning was come, Ulysses called them all
together and spake,--
“I know not, friends, where we are. Only I know, having seen smoke
yesterday from the hill, that there is a dwelling in this island.”
It troubled the men much to hear this, for they thought of the Cyclops
and of the Læstrygons; and they wailed aloud, but there was no counsel
in them. Wherefore Ulysses divided them into two companies, setting
Eurylochus over the one and himself over the other, and shook lots
in a helmet who should go and search out the island, and the lot of
Eurylochus leapt out. So he went, and comrades twenty and two with him.
And in an open space in the wood they found the palace of Circé. All
about were wolves and lions; yet these harmed not the men, but stood up
on their hind legs, fawning upon them, as dogs fawn upon their master
when he comes from his meal. And the men were afraid. And they stood
in the porch and heard the voice of Circé as she sang with a lovely
voice and plied the loom. Then said Polites, who was dearest of all his
comrades to Ulysses,--
“Some one within plies a great loom, and sings with a loud voice. Some
goddess is she, or woman. Let us make haste and call.”
So they called to her, and she came out and beckoned to them that they
should follow. So they went, in their folly. And she bade them sit, and
mixed for them a mess, red wine, and in it barley-meal and cheese and
honey, and mighty drugs withal, of which, if a man drank, he forgot all
that he loved. And when they had drunk she smote them with her wand.
And lo! they had of a sudden the heads and the voices and the bristles
of swine, but the heart of a man was in them still. And Circé shut
them in sties, and gave them mast and acorns and cornel to eat.
But Eurylochus fled back to the ship. And for a while he could not
speak, so full was his heart of grief, but at the last he told the tale
of what had befallen. Then Ulysses took his silver-studded sword and
his bow, and bade Eurylochus guide him by the way that he had gone.
Nor would he hearken when Eurylochus would have hindered him, but said,
“Stay here by the ship, eating and drinking, if it be thy will, but I
must go, for necessity constrains me.”
And when he had come to the house, there met him Hermes of the golden
wand, in the shape of a fair youth, who said to him,--
“Art thou come to rescue thy comrades that are now swine in Circé’s
house? Nay, but thou shalt never go back thyself. Yet, stay; I will
give thee such a drug as shall give thee power to resist all her
charms. For when she shall have mixed thee a mess, and smitten thee
with her wand, then do thou rush upon her with thy sword, making as if
thou wouldst slay her. And when she shall pray for peace, do thou make
her swear by the great oath that binds the gods that she will not harm
thee.”
Then Hermes showed Ulysses a certain herb, whose root was black, but
the flower white as milk. “Moly,” the gods call it, and very hard it
is for mortal man to find. Then Ulysses went into the house, and all
befell as Hermes had told him. For Circé would have changed him as she
had changed his comrades. Then he rushed at her with his sword, and
made her swear the great oath which binds the gods that she would not
harm him.
But afterwards, when they sat at meat together, the goddess perceived
that he was silent and ate not. Wherefore she said, “Why dost thou
sit, Ulysses, as though thou wert dumb? Fearest thou any craft of mine?
Nay, but that may not be, for have I not sworn the great oath that
binds the gods?”
And Ulysses said, “Nay, but who could think of meat and drink when such
things had befallen his companions?”
Then Circé led the way, holding her wand in her hand, and opened the
doors of the sties, and drove out the swine that had been men. Then she
rubbed on each another mighty drug, and the bristles fell from their
bodies and they became men, only younger and fairer than before. And
when they saw Ulysses they clung to him and wept for joy, and Circé
herself was moved with pity.
Then said she, “Go, Ulysses, to thy ship, and put away all the goods
and tackling in the caves that are on the shore, but come again hither
thyself, and bring thy comrades with thee.”
Then Ulysses went. Right glad were they who had stayed to see him,
glad as are the calves who have been penned in the fold-yard when
their mothers come back in the evening. And when he told them what had
been, and would have them follow him, they were all willing, save only
Eurylochus, who said,--
“O ye fools, whither are we going? To the dwelling of Circé, who will
change us all into swine, or wolves, or lions, and keep us in prison,
even as the Cyclops did! For was it not this same foolhardy Ulysses
that lost our comrades there?”
Then was Ulysses very wroth, and would have slain Eurylochus, though
near of kin to him. But his comrades hindered him, saying, “Let him
abide here and keep the ship, if he will. But we will go with thee to
the dwelling of Circé.”
Then Ulysses forbore. Nor did Eurylochus stay behind, but followed
with the rest. So they went to the dwelling of Circé, who feasted them
royally, so that they remained with her for a whole year, well content.
But when the year was out they said to Ulysses, “It were well to
remember thy country, if it is indeed the will of the gods that thou
shouldst return thither.”
Then Ulysses besought Circé that she would send him on his way
homewards, as indeed she had promised to do. And she answered,--
“I would not have you abide in my house unwillingly. Yet must thou
first go another journey, even to the dwellings of the dead, there to
speak with the seer Tiresias.”
But Ulysses was sore troubled to hear such things, and wept aloud,
saying, “Who shall guide us in this journey?--for never yet did ship
make such a voyage as this.”
Then said Circé, “Seek no guide; only raise the mast of thy ship and
spread the white sails, and sit in peace. So shall the north wind
bear thee to the place on the ocean shore where are the groves of
Persephoné, tall poplars and willows. There must thou beach thy ship.
And after that thou must go alone.”
Then she told him all that he must do if he would hold converse with
the dead seer Tiresias, and hear what should befall him. So the next
morning he roused his companions, telling them that they should now
return. But it chanced that one of them, Elpenor by name, was sleeping
on the roof, for the coolness, being heavy with wine. And when he heard
the stir of his comrades, he rose up, nor thought of the ladder, but
fell from the roof and brake his neck. And the rest being assembled,
Ulysses told them how they must take another journey first, even to the
dwellings of the dead. This they were much troubled to hear, yet they
made ready the ship and departed.
So they came to the place of which Circé had told them. And when all
things had been rightly done, Ulysses saw spirits of the dead. First of
all came Elpenor, and he marvelled much to see him, saying,--
“How camest thou hither?--on foot or in the ship?”
Then he answered, telling how he had died; and he said, “Now, as thou
wilt go back, I know, to the island of Circé, suffer me not to remain
unburied, but make above me a mound of earth, for men in aftertimes to
see, and put upon it my oar, with which I was wont to row while I yet
lived.”
These things Ulysses promised that he would do. Afterwards came the
spirit of Tiresias, holding a sceptre of gold in his hand. And when
Ulysses asked him of his return, he said,--
“Thy return shall be difficult, because of the anger of Poseidon,
whose son thou madest blind. Yet, when thou comest to the island of
the Three Capes, where feed the oxen of the Sun, if thou leave these
unhurt, thou and thy comrades shall return to Ithaca. But otherwise
they shall perish, and thou shalt return, after long time, in a ship
not thine own, and shalt find in thy palace, devouring thy goods, men
of violence, suitors of thy wife. These shalt thou slay, openly or by
craft. Nor yet shalt thou rest, but shalt go to a land where men know
not the sea, nor eat their meat with salt; and thou shalt carry thy
oar on thy shoulder. And this shall be a sign to thee, when another
wayfarer, meeting thee, shall ask whether it be a winnowing fan that
thou bearest on thy shoulder; then shalt thou fix thy oar in the earth,
and make a sacrifice to Poseidon, and so return. So shalt thou die at
last in peace.”
Then Tiresias departed. After this he saw his mother, and asked how it
fared with his home in Ithaca, and she told him all. And many others
he saw, wives and daughters of the heroes of old time. Also there came
King Agamemnon, who told him how Ægisthus, with Clytemnestra, his
wicked wife, had slain him in his own palace, being newly returned from
Troy. Fain would the King have heard how it fared with Orestes, his
son, but of this Ulysses could tell him nothing. Then came the spirit
of Achilles, and him Ulysses comforted, telling him how bravely and
wisely his son Neoptolemus had borne himself in Troy.
Also he saw the spirit of Ajax, son of Telamon; but Ajax spake not to
him, having great wrath in his heart, because of the arms of Achilles.
For the two, Ajax and Ulysses, had contended for them, Achilles being
dead, before the assembly of the Greeks, and the Greeks had given them
to Ulysses, whereupon Ajax, being very wroth, had laid hands upon
himself.
And having seen many other things, Ulysses went back to his ship, and
returned with his companions to the island of Circé. And being arrived
there, first they buried Elpenor, making a mound over him, and setting
up on it his oar, and afterwards Circé made them a feast. But while the
others slept she told to Ulysses all that should befall him, saying,--
“First thou wilt come to the island of the Sirens, who sing so sweetly,
that whosoever hears them straightway forgets wife and child and home.
In a meadow they sit, singing sweetly, but about them are bones of men.
Do thou, then, close with wax the ears of thy companions, and make them
bind thee to the mast, so that thou mayest hear the song and yet take
no hurt. And do thou bid them, when thou shalt pray to be loosed, not
to hearken, but rather to bind thee the more. And this peril being
past, there lie others in thy path, of which thou must take thy choice.
For either thou must pass between the rocks which the gods call the
Wanderers--and these close upon all that passes between them, even the
very doves in their flight, nor has any ship escaped them, save only
the ship _Argo_, which Heré loved--or thou must go through the strait,
where there is a rock on either hand. In the one rock dwells Scylla,
in a cave so high above the sea that an archer could not reach it with
his arrow. A horrible monster is she. Twelve unshapely feet she hath,
and six long necks, and on each a head with three rows of teeth. In
the cave she lies, but her heads are without, fishing for sea-dogs and
dolphins, or even a great whale, if such should chance to go by. Think
not to escape her, Ulysses, for, of a truth, with each head will she
take one of thy companions. But the other rock is lower and more flat,
with a wild fig-tree on the top. There Charybdis thrice a day draws
in the dark water, and thrice a day sends it forth. Be not thou near
when she draws it in; not even Poseidon’s self could save thee. Choose
rather to pass near to Scylla, for it is better to lose six of thy
companions than that all should perish.”
Then said Ulysses, “Can I not fight with this Scylla, and so save my
companions?”
But Circé answered, “Nay, for she is not of mortal race. And if thou
linger to arm thyself, thou wilt but lose six others of thy companions.
Pass them with all the speed that may be, and call on Crataïs, who is
the mother of Scylla, that she may keep her from coming the second
time. Then wilt thou come to the island of the Three Capes, where feed
the oxen of the Sun. Beware that thy companions harm them not.”
The next day they departed. Then Ulysses told his companions of the
Sirens, and how they should deal with him. And after a while, the
following wind that had blown ceased, and there was a great calm; so
they took down the sails and laid them in the ship, and put forth the
oars to row. Then Ulysses made great cakes of wax, kneading them (for
the sun was now hot), and put into the ears of his companions. And they
bound him to the mast and so rowed on. Then the Sirens sang,--
“Hither, Ulysses, great Achaian name,
Turn thy swift keel, and listen to our lay;
Since never pilgrim near these regions came,
In black ship on the azure fields astray,
But heard our sweet voice ere he sailed away,
And in his joy passed on with ampler mind.
We know what labors were in ancient day
Wrought in wide Troia, as the gods assigned;
We know from land to land all toils of all mankind.”[1]
[1] Worsley.
Then Ulysses prayed that they would loose him, nodding his head, for
their ears were stopped; but they plied their oars, and Eurylochus and
Perimedes put new bonds upon him.
After this they saw a smoke and surf, and heard a mighty roar, and
their oars dropped out of their hands for fear; but Ulysses bade them
be of good heart, for that by his counsel they had escaped other
dangers in past time. And the rowers he bade row as hard as they might.
But to the helmsman he said, “Steer the ship outside the smoke and the
surf, and steer close to the cliffs, lest the ship shoot off unawares
and lose us.” But of Scylla he said nothing, fearing lest they should
lose heart and cease rowing altogether. Then he armed himself, and
stood in the prow waiting till Scylla should appear.
But on the other side Charybdis was sucking in the water with a
horrible noise, and with eddies so deep that a man might see the sand
at the bottom. But while they looked trembling at this, Scylla caught
six of the men from the ship, and Ulysses heard them call him by his
name as the monster carried them away. And never, he said in after
days, did he see with his eyes so piteous a sight.
But after this they came to the land where fed the oxen of the Sun. And
Ulysses said, “Let us pass by this island, for there shall we find the
greatest evil that we have yet suffered.” But they would not hearken;
only they said that the next day they would sail again.
Then spake Ulysses, “Ye constrain me, being many to one. Yet promise
me this, that ye will not take any of the sheep or oxen, for if ye do
great trouble will come to us.”
So they promised. But for a whole month the south wind blew and ceased
not. And their store of meat and drink being spent, they caught fishes
and birds, as they could, being sore pinched with hunger. And at the
last it chanced that Ulysses, being weary, fell asleep. And while he
slept, his companions, Eurylochus persuading them, took of the oxen of
the Sun, and slew them, for they said that their need was great, and
that when they came to their own land they would build a temple to the
Sun to make amends. But the Sun was very wroth with them. And a great
and dreadful thing happened, for the hides crept, and the meat on the
spits bellowed.
Six days they feasted on the oxen, and on the seventh they set sail.
But when they were now out of sight of land, Zeus brought up a great
storm over the sea, and a mighty west wind blew, breaking both the
forestay and the backstay of the mast, so that it fell. And after this
a thunderbolt struck the ship, and all the men that were in it fell
overboard and died. But Ulysses lashed the keel to the mast with the
backstay, and on these he sat, borne by the winds across the sea.
All night was he borne along, and in the morning he came to Charybdis.
And it chanced that Charybdis was then sucking in the water; but
Ulysses, springing up, clung to a wild fig-tree that grew from the
rock, but could find no rest for his feet, nor yet could climb into the
tree. All day long he clung, waiting till the raft should come forth
again; and at evening, at the time when a judge rises from his seat
after judging many causes, the raft came forth. Then he loosed his
hands and fell, so that he sat astride upon the raft.
After this he was borne for nine days upon the sea, till he came to the
island Ogygia, where dwelt the goddess Calypso.