Complete Works of Homer

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by Homer


  To climb their barks, and cast the hawsers loose.

  They all obedient, took their seats on board

  Well-ranged, and thresh'd with oars the foamy flood.

  Thus, 'scaping narrowly, we roam'd the Deep

  With aching hearts and with diminish'd crews.

  FOOTNOTES:

  So the Scholium interprets in this place, the word ὑπερθιαλος.

  Λινως

  Clarke, who has preserved this name in his marginal version,

  contends strenuously, and with great reason, that Outis ought not to be

  translated, and in a passage which he quotes from the _Acta eruditorum_,

  we see much fault found with Giphanius and other interpreters of Homer

  for having translated it. It is certain that in Homer the word is

  declined not as ουτις-τινος which signifies no man, but as ουτις-τιδος

  making ουτιν in the accusative, consequently as a proper name. It is

  sufficient that the ambiguity was such as to deceive the friends of the

  Cyclops. Outis is said by some (perhaps absurdly) to have been a name

  given to Ulysses on account of his having larger ears than common.

  Outis, as a _name_ could only denote him who bore it; but as a

  _noun_, it signifies _no man_, which accounts sufficiently for the

  ludicrous mistake of his brethren.

  προπεσοντες

  ------Olli certamine summo

  Procumbunt.

  VIRGIL

  The seeming incongruity of this line with line 560, is reconciled by

  supposing that Ulysses exerted his voice, naturally loud, in an

  extraordinary manner on this second occasion. See Clarke.

  BOOK X

  ARGUMENT

  Ulysses, in pursuit of his narrative, relates his arrival at the island

  of Æolus, his departure thence, and the unhappy occasion of his return

  thither. The monarch of the winds dismisses him at last with much

  asperity. He next tells of his arrival among the Læstrygonians, by whom

  his whole fleet, together with their crews, are destroyed, his own ship

  and crew excepted. Thence he is driven to the island of Circe. By her the

  half of his people are transformed into swine. Assisted by Mercury, he

  resists her enchantments himself, and prevails with the Goddess to

  recover them to their former shape. In consequence of Circe's

  instructions, after having spent a complete year in her palace, he

  prepares for a voyage to the infernal regions.

  We came to the Æolian isle; there dwells

  Æolus, son of Hippotas, belov'd

  By the Immortals, in an isle afloat.

  A brazen wall impregnable on all sides

  Girds it, and smooth its rocky coast ascends.

  His children, in his own fair palace born,

  Are twelve; six daughters, and six blooming sons.

  He gave his daughters to his sons to wife;

  They with their father hold perpetual feast

  And with their royal mother, still supplied 10

  With dainties numberless; the sounding dome

  Is fill'd with sav'ry odours all the day,

  And with their consorts chaste at night they sleep

  On stateliest couches with rich arras spread.

  Their city and their splendid courts we reach'd.

  A month complete he, friendly, at his board

  Regaled me, and enquiry made minute

  Of Ilium's fall, of the Achaian fleet,

  And of our voyage thence. I told him all.

  But now, desirous to embark again, 20

  I ask'd dismission home, which he approved,

  And well provided for my prosp'rous course.

  He gave me, furnish'd by a bullock slay'd

  In his ninth year, a bag; ev'ry rude blast

  Which from its bottom turns the Deep, that bag

  Imprison'd held; for him Saturnian Jove

  Hath officed arbiter of all the winds,

  To rouse their force or calm them, at his will.

  He gave me them on board my bark, so bound

  With silver twine that not a breath escaped, 30

  Then order'd gentle Zephyrus to fill

  Our sails propitious. Order vain, alas!

  So fatal proved the folly of my friends.

  Nine days continual, night and day we sail'd,

  And on the tenth my native land appear'd.

  Not far remote my Ithacans I saw

  Fires kindling on the coast; but me with toil

  Worn, and with watching, gentle sleep subdued;

  For constant I had ruled the helm, nor giv'n

  That charge to any, fearful of delay. 40

  Then, in close conference combined, my crew

  Each other thus bespake--He carries home

  Silver and gold from Æolus received,

  Offspring of Hippotas, illustrious Chief--

  And thus a mariner the rest harangued.

  Ye Gods! what city or what land soe'er

  Ulysses visits, how is he belov'd

  By all, and honour'd! many precious spoils

  He homeward bears from Troy; but we return,

  (We who the self-same voyage have perform'd) 50

  With empty hands. Now also he hath gain'd

  This pledge of friendship from the King of winds.

  But come--be quick--search we the bag, and learn

  What stores of gold and silver it contains.

  So he, whose mischievous advice prevailed.

  They loos'd the bag; forth issued all the winds,

  And, caught by tempests o'er the billowy waste,

  Weeping they flew, far, far from Ithaca.

  I then, awaking, in my noble mind

  Stood doubtful, whether from my vessel's side 60

  Immersed to perish in the flood, or calm

  To endure my sorrows, and content to live.

  I calm endured them; but around my head

  Winding my mantle, lay'd me down below,

  While adverse blasts bore all my fleet again

  To the Æolian isle; then groan'd my people.

  We disembark'd and drew fresh water there,

  And my companions, at their galley's sides

  All seated, took repast; short meal we made,

  When, with an herald and a chosen friend, 70

  I sought once more the hall of Æolus.

  Him banqueting with all his sons we found,

  And with his spouse; we ent'ring, on the floor

  Of his wide portal sat, whom they amazed

  Beheld, and of our coming thus enquired.

  Return'd? Ulysses! by what adverse Pow'r

  Repuls'd hast thou arrived? we sent thee hence

  Well-fitted forth to reach thy native isle,

  Thy palace, or what place soe'er thou would'st.

  So they--to whom, heart-broken, I replied. 80

  My worthless crew have wrong'd me, nor alone

  My worthless crew, but sleep ill-timed, as much.

  Yet heal, O friends, my hurt; the pow'r is yours!

  So I their favour woo'd. Mute sat the sons,

  But thus their father answer'd. Hence--be gone--

  Leave this our isle, thou most obnoxious wretch

  Of all mankind. I should, myself, transgress,

  Receiving here, and giving conduct hence

  To one detested by the Gods as thou.

  Away--for hated by the Gods thou com'st. 90

  So saying, he sent me from his palace forth,

  Groaning profound; thence, therefore, o'er the Deep

  We still proceeded sorrowful, our force

  Exhausting ceaseless at the toilsome oar,

  And, through our own imprudence, hopeless now

  Of other furth'rance to our native isle. />
  Six days we navigated, day and night,

  The briny flood, and on the seventh reach'd

  The city erst by Lamus built sublime,

  Proud Læstrygonia, with the distant gates. 100

  The herdsman, there, driving his cattle home,

  Summons the shepherd with his flocks abroad.

  The sleepless there might double wages earn,

  Attending, now, the herds, now, tending sheep,

  For the night-pastures, and the pastures grazed

  By day, close border, both, the city-walls.

  To that illustrious port we came, by rocks

  Uninterrupted flank'd on either side

  Of tow'ring height, while prominent the shores

  And bold, converging at the haven's mouth 110

  Leave narrow pass. We push'd our galleys in,

  Then moor'd them side by side; for never surge

  There lifts its head, or great or small, but clear

  We found, and motionless, the shelter'd flood.

  Myself alone, staying my bark without,

  Secured her well with hawsers to a rock

  At the land's point, then climb'd the rugged steep,

  And spying stood the country. Labours none

  Of men or oxen in the land appear'd,

  Nor aught beside saw we, but from the earth 120

  Smoke rising; therefore of my friends I sent

  Before me two, adding an herald third,

  To learn what race of men that country fed.

  Departing, they an even track pursued

  Made by the waggons bringing timber down

  From the high mountains to the town below.

  Before the town a virgin bearing forth

  Her ew'r they met, daughter of him who ruled

  The Læstrygonian race, Antiphatas.

  Descending from the gate, she sought the fount 130

  Artacia; for their custom was to draw

  From that pure fountain for the city's use.

  Approaching they accosted her, and ask'd

  What King reign'd there, and over whom he reign'd.

  She gave them soon to know where stood sublime

  The palace of her Sire; no sooner they

  The palace enter'd, than within they found,

  In size resembling an huge mountain-top,

  A woman, whom they shudder'd to behold.

  She forth from council summon'd quick her spouse 140

  Antiphatas, who teeming came with thoughts

  Of carnage, and, arriving, seized at once

  A Greecian, whom, next moment, he devoured.

  With headlong terrour the surviving two

  Fled to the ships. Then sent Antiphatas

  His voice through all the town, and on all sides,

  Hearing that cry, the Læstrygonians flock'd

  Numberless, and in size resembling more

  The giants than mankind. They from the rocks

  Cast down into our fleet enormous stones, 150

  A strong man's burthen each; dire din arose

  Of shatter'd galleys and of dying men,

  Whom spear'd like fishes to their home they bore,

  A loathsome prey. While them within the port

  They slaughter'd, I, (the faulchion at my side

  Drawn forth) cut loose the hawser of my ship,

  And all my crew enjoin'd with bosoms laid

  Prone on their oars, to fly the threaten'd woe.

  They, dreading instant death tugg'd resupine

  Together, and the galley from beneath 160

  Those beetling rocks into the open sea

  Shot gladly; but the rest all perish'd there.

  Proceeding thence, we sigh'd, and roamed the waves,

  Glad that we lived, but sorrowing for the slain.

  We came to the Ææan isle; there dwelt

  The awful Circe, Goddess amber-hair'd,

  Deep-skill'd in magic song, sister by birth

  Of the all-wise Æætes; them the Sun,

  Bright luminary of the world, begat

  On Perse, daughter of Oceanus. 170

  Our vessel there, noiseless, we push'd to land

  Within a spacious haven, thither led

  By some celestial Pow'r. We disembark'd,

  And on the coast two days and nights entire

  Extended lay, worn with long toil, and each

  The victim of his heart-devouring woes.

  Then, with my spear and with my faulchion arm'd,

  I left the ship to climb with hasty steps

  An airy height, thence, hoping to espie

  Some works of man, or hear, perchance, a voice. 180

  Exalted on a rough rock's craggy point

  I stood, and on the distant plain, beheld

  Smoke which from Circe's palace through the gloom

  Of trees and thickets rose. That smoke discern'd,

  I ponder'd next if thither I should haste,

  Seeking intelligence. Long time I mused,

  But chose at last, as my discreter course,

  To seek the sea-beach and my bark again,

  And, when my crew had eaten, to dispatch

  Before me, others, who should first enquire. 190

  But, ere I yet had reach'd my gallant bark,

  Some God with pity viewing me alone

  In that untrodden solitude, sent forth

  An antler'd stag, full-sized, into my path.

  His woodland pastures left, he sought the stream,

  For he was thirsty, and already parch'd

  By the sun's heat. Him issuing from his haunt,

  Sheer through the back beneath his middle spine,

  I wounded, and the lance sprang forth beyond.

  Moaning he fell, and in the dust expired. 200

  Then, treading on his breathless trunk, I pluck'd

  My weapon forth, which leaving there reclined,

  I tore away the osiers with my hands

  And fallows green, and to a fathom's length

  Twisting the gather'd twigs into a band,

  Bound fast the feet of my enormous prey,

  And, flinging him athwart my neck, repair'd

  Toward my sable bark, propp'd on my lance,

  Which now to carry shoulder'd as before

  Surpass'd my pow'r, so bulky was the load. 210

  Arriving at the ship, there I let fall

  My burthen, and with pleasant speech and kind,

  Man after man addressing, cheer'd my crew.

  My friends! we suffer much, but shall not seek

  The shades, ere yet our destined hour arrive.

  Behold a feast! and we have wine on board--

  Pine not with needless famine! rise and eat.

  I spake; they readily obey'd, and each

  Issuing at my word abroad, beside

  The galley stood, admiring, as he lay, 220

  The stag, for of no common bulk was he.

  At length, their eyes gratified to the full

  With that glad spectacle, they laved their hands,

  And preparation made of noble cheer.

  That day complete, till set of sun, we spent

  Feasting deliciously without restraint,

  And quaffing generous wine; but when the sun

  Went down, and darkness overshadow'd all,

  Extended, then, on Ocean's bank we lay;

  And when Aurora, daughter of the dawn, 230

  Look'd rosy forth, convening all my crew

  To council, I arose, and thus began.

  My fellow-voyagers, however worn

  With num'rous hardships, hear! for neither West

  Know ye, nor East, where rises, or where sets

  The all-enlight'ning sun. But let us think,

  If thought perchance may profit us, of which

  Small hope I see; for when I lately climb'd

  Yon craggy rock, plainly I could discern

  The land encompass'd by the boundless Deep. 240

>   The isle is flat, and in the midst I saw

  Dun smoke ascending from an oaken bow'r.

  So I, whom hearing, they all courage lost,

  And at remembrance of Antiphatas

  The Læstrygonian, and the Cyclops' deeds,

  Ferocious feeder on the flesh of man,

  Mourn'd loud and wept, but tears could nought avail.

  Then numb'ring man by man, I parted them

  In equal portions, and assign'd a Chief

  To either band, myself to these, to those 250

  Godlike Eurylochus. This done, we cast

  The lots into the helmet, and at once

  Forth sprang the lot of bold Eurylochus.

  He went, and with him of my people march'd

  Twenty and two, all weeping; nor ourselves

  Wept less, at separation from our friends.

  Low in a vale, but on an open spot,

  They found the splendid house of Circe, built

  With hewn and polish'd stones; compass'd she dwelt

  By lions on all sides and mountain-wolves 260

  Tamed by herself with drugs of noxious pow'rs.

  Nor were they mischievous, but as my friends

  Approach'd, arising on their hinder feet,

  Paw'd them in blandishment, and wagg'd the tail.

  As, when from feast he rises, dogs around

  Their master fawn, accustom'd to receive

  The sop conciliatory from his hand,

  Around my people, so, those talon'd wolves

  And lions fawn'd. They, terrified, that troop

  Of savage monsters horrible beheld. 270

  And now, before the Goddess' gates arrived,

  They heard the voice of Circe singing sweet

  Within, while, busied at the loom, she wove

  An ample web immortal, such a work

  Transparent, graceful, and of bright design

  As hands of Goddesses alone produce.

  Thus then Polites, Prince of men, the friend

  Highest in my esteem, the rest bespake.

  Ye hear the voice, comrades, of one who weaves

  An ample web within, and at her task 280

  So sweetly chaunts that all the marble floor

  Re-echoes; human be she or divine

  I doubt, but let us call, that we may learn.

  He ceas'd; they call'd; soon issuing at the sound,

  The Goddess open'd wide her splendid gates,

  And bade them in; they, heedless, all complied,

  All save Eurylochus, who fear'd a snare.

  She, introducing them, conducted each

  To a bright throne, then gave them Pramnian wine,

  With grated cheese, pure meal, and honey new, 290

 

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