Homer's Daughter

by Robert Graves

  Someone handed him the sack, and he discreetly wrapped it around his waist before rising.

  “Girls,” I said briskly, “take this suppliant to the Springs for a wash, and choose him a cloak and tunic, of the better ones. They are all dry. Also find the oil bottle and a scraper; and bring him back here when he is decently dressed.”

  He made a point of asking them to retire while he bathed—which proved his delicacy of feeling—and when he appeared again, wearing one of my father’s embroidered tunics, and a scarlet cloak which belonged to Laodamas, I thought I had never seen anyone so soldierly in my life, though his legs were a trifle short in proportion to his muscular body. But, of course, a man may be as handsome as a god and yet deceitful or muddleheaded.

  We set a meal of roast beef, bread and wine before him—plenty had been left—and oh, how hungrily he tore at the beef with his strong white teeth, and how the wine gurgled down his smooth brown throat!

  When he had done, I asked: “Who are you, my lord—for you must surely be of noble birth—and what is your country? To avoid any awkwardness, it would be well to let me know at once whether you have ever fallen foul of my people, the Elymans?”

  “Fortunately, never,” he answered. “You and your well-trained women happen to be the first Elymans whom I have had the honour to meet. But I know you as the most westerly of civilized nations, and have heard of the great reputation for energy and good faith which you have consolidated among the maritime peoples of the world. I am a Cretan, and Aethon son of Castor is my name: a true Cretan from the far west, and a fugitive homicide. I killed a man in self-defence, a treacherous son of the King of Tarrha, and was sentenced to eight years’ exile by the Council; seven of which I have now completed, wandering from country to country. May I, in turn, ask your name, benefactress?”

  “I am Nausicaa,” I answered, “the only daughter of the Elyman King and Queen. My eldest brother, Laodamas, is feared lost at sea; and my father has recently sailed to Sandy Pylus, hoping for news of him there. Lord Mentor, my maternal uncle, is acting as Regent, and I have one grown brother at home, hardly more than a youth, named Clytoneus, and my little brother. Telegonus is still under the charge of women. Listen to me! If I protect you, this must be conditional on your obeying me implicitly throughout your stay here.”

  “That goes without saying,” Aethon agreed. “You have saved my life, which is now yours to direct for as long as you deign to do so. What are my orders?”

  I paused before answering, and he bent his head resignedly: somehow he knew that I had a difficult situation to face. “To begin with,” I said, “you must not come home with us, but follow at a prudent distance, keeping the cart in sight until we reach a fortified wall which runs across the neck of yonder headland. The town of Drepanum lies on the other side, between two harbours, and near the gates rises a Temple of Poseidon, facing a paved market place, with docks and shipyards on either hand, and an oar factory, marine stores, two rope walks, and a great deal of activity and gossip. It is this gossip that I want to avoid at all costs. Do not think that I am ashamed to be seen in your company, my lord Aethon, but my position is already extremely delicate. A number of young Elymans have asked my father for my hand but, to be frank, I entertain a strong dislike for the more influential of my suitors, yet have so far formed no attachment elsewhere. If I were to bring you into the town, the sensation caused by such a sight would embarrass both you and me. Rope-maker would shout to net-mender: ‘Look, look! Who is that tall handsome stranger with the Princess Nausicaa? Where has she picked him up?’ And then they would go on: ‘Have any of you ever seen him before? Either some god has descended from Olympus in answer to her prayer—everyone knows that she considers herself too good to marry a mere mortal—or, less improbably, she has rescued a shipwrecked sailor and lent him some of the clothes from that cartful, and is now taking him along to her mother and uncle. “This is my future husband,” she will announce. “I have just given him my carefully guarded maidenhead, for I love him with all my heart.” A fine trick to play in her father’s absence, eh?’ No, Aethon, do not blush, and neither will I. You must understand that this is how loutish minds work hereabouts. I hate them all. And please do not think that I approve of indiscreet behaviour. A young woman’s reputation for chastity is of the utmost value to her, and I have always been at pains to keep mine irreproachable; moreover, if I am ever lucky enough to bear a daughter, she will have to do the same, or forfeit my love.”

  Aethon smiled. “So be it, Princess,” he said. “Pray continue with your orders. Am I to lounge at the town gate, complaining that I have been clubbed on the head by robbers and forgotten everything about myself; so that I am obliged to wander in search of a friend who can tell me my name and city?”

  “That is not a bad idea,” I answered, “but might have unwelcome complications. Some scoundrelly foreign captain might claim you as a runaway slave, and who could contradict him? Not you, certainly, if you deny that you remember even your own name. No, listen: at a little distance from the town wall we shall pass through a poplar grove sacred to the Goddess Athene (whose priestess I am), growing in the middle of a park; you will find a well there, with a rope and an oaken bucket, and beyond it a patch of chick-peas and vetch. The park is crown property, and nobody would dare disturb anyone who went to pray in the grove. So wait by the well until you judge that we have reached the Palace, which stands near the point of the headland. Then go boldly to the guard at the gates and announce that you have a personal message for the Queen. Any little child will guide you to the Palace, because it is by far the largest and noblest building in the town. My grandfather used dressed stone; all the other houses, even the Temple of Poseidon, are wooden constructions with lath-and-plaster walls in Sican style. Enter the court of sacrifice as though you knew it of old, then cross the banqueting court and pass between the two red marble dogs into the throne chamber. These clothes are good enough to prevent any slaves from challenging you. My uncle, Lord Mentor, will doubtless be seated on the royal throne drinking wine. Bow your respects to him, but go straight up to my mother. Her tall ivory chair, with the footstool attached, stands against a pillar near the hearth, and she will be weaving sea-purple, or perhaps doing fine embroidery, a wheeled workbasket by her side. Clasp her knees, and speak as you have spoken to me. In her sympathy lies your best hope of success. I should be vexed if you were to fall into the clutches of the Town Council, not a very merciful body of men—unless my father is present to control them—and find yourself auctioned as a slave to the highest bidder.”

  “To be auctioned is a fate that has never yet overtaken me. May Zeus grant that it never will. Benefactress, I shall do as you say, and may your patroness Athene favour me!”

  This much being settled, I told my women to fold the linen neatly, lay it in the grass-strewn cart, and collect all our belongings—the ball had drifted across Rheithrum, and Glauce retrieved it at the outlet with a long branch of oleaster—after which Aethon helped us to catch and harness the mules. I mounted and cracked my whip; and off the cart bounced over the meadow until we struck the coast road again.

  With a backward glance at Aethon, I thought: “What a singular day this has been, full of signs and wonders… Dear Mistress Athene, I thank you a thousand times for having listened to my prayer! Can Aethon be the man whom you intend me to marry? I am half in love with him already—but perhaps only because he is my own personal suppliant and trusts me… (So Laodamas loved the hound Argus, which used to fawn and cringe at his coming as though he were a god.) And have you sent him to rescue our house from disaster?”

  Another strange event: both mules suddenly baulked, for no apparent reason, and though I flicked them with the whip, backed at least twenty paces and halted shivering. I told Auge to hold their heads while I climbed down and found out what had scared them. Nothing. The road lay empty, without even a white stone or a fluttering rag to frighten them—unless it were that filthy old goatskin wallet, abandoned in the ditc
h, which they mistook for a lurking dog.

  I stood still awhile, my arms outstretched as if praying, much to the bewilderment of the women. Then I called them together and said, kindly though severely: “Loyal servants, gentle playmates! The mules baulked at the sight of the Goddess Athene, who appeared shining by the roadside, visible only to her priestess. She addressed me in oracular verse, of which this is the substance: ‘Princess Nausicaa, if one of your women blurts a single word to her family, or to friends, or to acquaintances, about the Cretan champion whom I have sent you in your need, I will blind that slut and cover her upper lip with thick black hair! And now, child, you may inform the stranger that I have cancelled your instructions: he is not to advance another step towards your well-built town of Drepanum, but must turn inland while it is yet light and follow the road which skirts the town of Eryx and winds up the mountain from the east. He will find your father’s swineherd at the Raven Rock among the esculent oaks, where great herds of hogs are fattening; and I have ordained that honest servant to protect him. Let Aethon place himself under Eumaeus’s care and lodge at his homestead until you send him whatever message I may put into your mouth. But first he must take off those glorious clothes, which the Queen will instantly recognize as palace property and conclude to have been either stolen or bestowed on him as a love gift. Then he must daub his handsome body with cow filth and wrap around him the old sack for which, at my prompting, he pleaded; nor must he reveal his name or country to any of the swineherds. It is as a nameless, unkempt beggar that I shall bring him to the Palace of the Elyman kings.’”

  Aethon seemed puzzled by this sudden divine command, but accepted it unquestioningly. I then instructed him how to reach Raven Rock, advising him to cut himself a stout staff as a defence against Eumaeus’s savage mastiffs, and to take up the discarded wallet; into which we thrust a few crusts of bread and parings of cheese, and the scrag end of our leg of mutton, so that he now looked a real beggar.

  Nobody else witnessed this transformation, and soon a villainous ruffian was toiling through our willow grove, staff in hand, waving good-bye to us. I disliked having to send Aethon on that long climb in his weakened condition, but he was young and bold, with good food in his belly, and I had to play for safety. If Eurymachus and his companions found out that he was an exiled Cretan nobleman, a homicide too, who would stop at nothing to show himself deserving of my protection, his life would be worth little. “It will be far better,” I thought, “to hold him in reserve as an unsuspected ally.” And my women could be trusted. They believed me to have occult powers, as one who was in constant treaty with the Blessed Gods. None of them would risk blindness and a thick moustache by blabbing.

  I patted and made much of the mules until they started again; and kept them going smartly, but not too fast for my women. After skirting the Grove of Athene we were admitted into the town by the gate watch. Our progress through the docks excited no great interest; and at last I pulled up outside the Palace, clapped my hands for a groom, and ran indoors to enquire what had happened during the day.

  My uncle Mentor, gloomily waiting on a bench in the throne chamber, began to weep when he saw me.

  “What has happened?” I exclaimed. “No ill news of death or sickness, I hope? Or have the Sicels invaded our frontiers? Uncle, why are you not sitting on the throne?”

  “Niece, the news is bad! Though by the grace of Artemis, neither death nor disease has been reported, nor have any Sicels, or Phoenicians, or other strangers threatened us, it is very bad. This enemy works from within. When today I attended the Drepanan Council, I met with unkind looks and cruel words. The clan leaders ordered me to surrender my regency on the ground that in the King’s absence the Elyman sceptre always passes to the most honourable of his own clansmen. I declined to obey until compelled by an all-Elyman assembly; because, after all, the King himself conferred the regency on me. And then, as I left the council chamber, Antinous gave notice that, in accordance with your father’s wishes, he and others of your suitors will before long visit the Palace; where they expect to find a feast of roast meat and lavish wine spread for them in the banqueting court. And that this entertainment must continue day after day, for a month, or two months, or even more, until a husband is chosen for you from the company. He also said that I am qualified under Elyman law to make the choice, since your mother and I come of Aegadean stock, and—as the King himself admitted—uncle disposes of niece in our islands. My dear, I may be an easygoing man, but there are certain occasions when I dig in my heels and will not budge. I refused point-blank to choose you a husband without your father’s consent.”

  “I am grateful to you, Uncle Mentor. Did Antinous discuss the case of Ctimene?”

  “He did: impertinently asking me to presume the death of Laodamas and send her home to her father on Bucinna. Again I answered no: because Ctimene is determined to stay and has already planted herself on the hearth as a suppliant. To drive her out now would be to visit this house with a curse; besides, what business is it of theirs whether Ctimene goes or stays? Oddly enough, Eurymachus supported me in this, and Antinous gave way. But you do not seem in the least surprised, Nausicaa?”

  “It takes a good deal to surprise me these days, Uncle. Well, what are you proposing to do?”

  “First tell me: have you set your heart on any of these young men?”

  “Certainly not. The least dull are the most detestable and, contrariwise, the least detestable are the dullest. If I am allowed to marry for love, my choice will necessarily fall on a stranger.”

  “Then I am resolved to keep hold of the sceptre until it is wrested from my hands. When your suitors enter this house I shall offer light refreshments and then courteously ask them to retire; and if they defy me, I shall lay the matter on the knees of the Immortals.”

  “I am assured, Uncle,” I said, “that the Immortals are already concerned in our affairs and, when we take care not to offend them either in word or deed, will protect us behind a wall of unbreakable shields.”

  He looked shrewdly at me, but I gazed back at him with expressionless eyes.

  “I hope that you are right, child, for I have begun to smell blood and the smoke of burning rafters. But we need hardly anticipate immediate trouble. Tomorrow I will get out your father’s fast chariot and visit the elders of Aegesta. Perhaps they will take a different view from those of Drepanum.”

  CHAPTER

  SEVEN

  THE GREEDY

  SUITORS

  The very next day my impudent suitors sent word, as if from my uncle Mentor, to our chief swineherd Eumaeus at Raven Rock, and to Philoetius, our chief shepherd, who was grazing the flocks near the Cave of Conturanus. They were instructed to drive down, respectively, eight fat boars and a dozen fat wethers for slaughter without delay. Suspecting no fraud, these honest servants sent what was demanded, and Melantheus the cattlemaster willingly added a couple of prime bullocks. I was superintending a group of women at work in the court of sacrifice when these beasts reached the Palace. It happened to be the day for remaking the mattresses. Once a year we pull out the lumpy wool from the linen ticks, flog the yellowish-white heap with long canes until it fluffs up; then we refill the ticks, distributing the handfuls evenly so that the whole surface becomes smooth, soft, and buoyant, and sew the ends together again, neatly turning the hems. It is not an agreeable task. Wool dust gets into noses and makes them sneeze, and if a wind rises, as it did on this occasion, and blows the wool wantonly about the court, tempers grow short. I ordered the gate to be barred until we should have finished, but presently heard a violent knocking, and hoarse cries of “Open, open in Lord Mentor’s name!”

  I sighed and waved to the porter. He unbarred the gate, and in surged a confused crowd of men and animals: Melantheus with the bullocks, Eumaeus’s son with the hogs, Philoetius’s cousin with the wethers, and behind them a disorderly group of domestic servants, none of them wearing the Palace badge, who sang and laughed in a most ill-mannered way, stari
ng around them and shouting ribald jokes at my women. A furious gust of wind swept into the court, scattering the wool in all directions and creating a small white flurry in front of the sacrificial altar.

  “Shut that accursed gate!” I screamed. The porter was still holding it open for a hog which had taken fright and bolted out again.

  “Who is in charge of this rabble?” I went on. “Melantheus! What are you doing with those bullocks? Have you lost your wits? The Feast of Apollo is not due for several days yet. Bar that gate at once, I tell you, porter! Never mind the wayward hog. Have you no sense? Look at this waste of good wool!”

  Melantheus had slipped off, as though to retrieve the hog; but Eumaeus’s son came forward, touching his forelock, and apologized very decently for letting in the shameless wind, over which, as he observed, even Father Zeus had no control, but only the three deaf Fates.

  “Why in the world has your reverend father sent us those hogs?” I asked in gentler tones. We Elymans always call swineherds “reverend,” because Sican swineherds give oracles from the behaviour of their sows, and Eumaeus, though Ionian by birth, had become more Sican almost than the Sicans.

  “A messenger came from my lord Mentor,” he answered, “demanding six of our fattest porkers. My reverend father being away at Aegesta, I wanted to know what good news was to be celebrated. Had an embassy arrived with rich gifts from a neighbouring city? Or could it be that the King had landed unexpectedly with Prince Laodamas? But the messenger explained that the beasts were wanted for your wedding feast. So I obeyed. Philoetius’s cousin, here, was told the same.”

  “Someone has been making a fool of you both, friends. You had better drive the hogs back as soon as you have rested. Meanwhile, take them outside and tie them by their hind legs to the hitching posts. The waste of it all: walking so much weight off them to no purpose! And that goes for the bullocks, too. Lead them out immediately! They will foul this newly swept court.”