On both those rocky summits fell in show’rs.
But when she suck’d the salt wave down again,
Then, all the pool appear’d wheeling about
Within, the rock rebellow’d, and the sea
Drawn off into that gulph disclosed to view
The oozy bottom. Us pale horror seized.
Thus, dreading death, with fast-set eyes we watch’d
Charybdis; meantime, Scylla from the bark
Caught six away, the bravest of my friends.
With eyes, that moment, on my ship and crew 290
Retorted, I beheld the legs and arms
Of those whom she uplifted in the air;
On me they call’d, my name, the last, last time
Pronouncing then, in agony of heart.
As when from some bold point among the rocks
The angler, with his taper rod in hand,
Casts forth his bait to snare the smaller fry,
He swings away remote his guarded line,
Then jerks his gasping prey forth from the Deep,
So Scylla them raised gasping to the rock, 300
And at her cavern’s mouth devour’d them loud-
Shrieking, and stretching forth to me their arms
In sign of hopeless mis’ry. Ne’er beheld
These eyes in all the seas that I have roam’d,
A sight so piteous, nor in all my toils.
From Scylla and Charybdis dire escaped,
We reach’d the noble island of the Sun
Ere long, where bright Hyperion’s beauteous herds
Broad-fronted grazed, and his well-batten’d flocks.
I, in the bark and on the sea, the voice 310
Of oxen bellowing in hovels heard,
And of loud-bleating sheep; then dropp’d the word
Into my memory of the sightless Seer,
Theban Tiresias, and the caution strict
Of Circe, my Ææan monitress,
Who with such force had caution’d me to avoid
The island of the Sun, joy of mankind.
Thus then to my companions, sad, I spake.
Hear ye, my friends! although long time distress’d,
The words prophetic of the Theban seer 320
And of Ææan Circe, whose advice
Was oft repeated to me to avoid
This island of the Sun, joy of mankind.
There, said the Goddess, dread your heaviest woes,
Pass the isle, therefore, scudding swift away.
I ceased; they me with consternation heard,
And harshly thus Eurylochus replied.
Ulysses, ruthless Chief! no toils impair
Thy strength, of senseless iron thou art form’d,
Who thy companions weary and o’erwatch’d 330
Forbidd’st to disembark on this fair isle,
Where now, at last, we might with ease regale.
Thou, rash, command’st us, leaving it afar,
To roam all night the Ocean’s dreary waste;
But winds to ships injurious spring by night,
And how shall we escape a dreadful death
If, chance, a sudden gust from South arise
Or stormy West, that dash in pieces oft
The vessel, even in the Gods’ despight?
Prepare we rather now, as night enjoins, 340
Our evening fare beside the sable bark,
In which at peep of day we may again
Launch forth secure into the boundless flood.
He ceas’d, whom all applauded. Then I knew
That sorrow by the will of adverse heav’n
Approach’d, and in wing’d accents thus replied.
I suffer force, Eurylochus! and yield
O’er-ruled by numbers. Come, then, swear ye all
A solemn oath, that should we find an herd
Or num’rous flock, none here shall either sheep 350
Or bullock slay, by appetite profane
Seduced, but shall the viands eat content
Which from immortal Circe we received.
I spake; they readily a solemn oath
Sware all, and when their oath was fully sworn,
Within a creek where a fresh fountain rose
They moor’d the bark, and, issuing, began
Brisk preparation of their evening cheer.
But when nor hunger now nor thirst remain’d
Unsated, recollecting, then, their friends 360
By Scylla seized and at her cave devour’d,
They mourn’d, nor ceased to mourn them, till they slept.
The night’s third portion come, when now the stars
Had travers’d the mid-sky, cloud-gath’rer Jove
Call’d forth a vehement wind with tempest charged,
Menacing earth and sea with pitchy clouds
Tremendous, and the night fell dark from heav’n.
But when Aurora, daughter of the day,
Look’d rosy forth, we haled, drawn inland more,
Our bark into a grot, where nymphs were wont 370
Graceful to tread the dance, or to repose.
Convening there my friends, I thus began.
My friends! food fails us not, but bread is yet
And wine on board. Abstain we from the herds,
Lest harm ensue; for ye behold the flocks
And herds of a most potent God, the Sun!
Whose eye and watchful ear none may elude.
So saying, I sway’d the gen’rous minds of all.
A month complete the South wind ceaseless blew,
Nor other wind blew next, save East and South, 380
Yet they, while neither food nor rosy wine
Fail’d them, the herds harm’d not, through fear to die.
But, our provisions failing, they employed
Whole days in search of food, snaring with hooks
Birds, fishes, of what kind soe’er they might.
By famine urged. I solitary roam’d
Meantime the isle, seeking by pray’r to move
Some God to shew us a deliv’rance thence.
When, roving thus the isle, I had at length
Left all my crew remote, laving my hands 390
Where shelter warm I found from the rude blast,
I supplicated ev’ry Pow’r above;
But they my pray’rs answer’d with slumbers soft
Shed o’er my eyes, and with pernicious art
Eurylochus, the while, my friends harangued.
My friends! afflicted as ye are, yet hear
A fellow-suff’rer. Death, however caused,
Abhorrence moves in miserable man,
But death by famine is a fate of all
Most to be fear’d. Come — let us hither drive 400
And sacrifice to the Immortal Pow’rs
The best of all the oxen of the Sun,
Resolving thus — that soon as we shall reach
Our native Ithaca, we will erect
To bright Hyperion an illustrious fane,
Which with magnificent and num’rous gifts
We will enrich. But should he chuse to sink
Our vessel, for his stately beeves incensed,
And should, with him, all heav’n conspire our death,
I rather had with open mouth, at once, 410
Meeting the billows, perish, than by slow
And pining waste here in this desert isle.
So spake Eurylochus, whom all approved.
Then, driving all the fattest of the herd
Few paces only, (for the sacred beeves
Grazed rarely distant from the bark) they stood
Compassing them around, and, grasping each
Green foliage newly pluck’d from saplings tall,
(For barley none in all our bark remain’d)
Worshipp’d the Gods in pray’r. Pray’r made, they slew
And flay’d them, and the thighs with double fat 421
Investin
g, spread them o’er with slices crude.
No wine had they with which to consecrate
The blazing rites, but with libation poor
Of water hallow’d the interior parts.
Now, when the thighs were burnt, and each had shared
His portion of the maw, and when the rest
All-slash’d and scored hung roasting at the fire,
Sleep, in that moment, suddenly my eyes
Forsaking, to the shore I bent my way. 430
But ere the station of our bark I reach’d,
The sav’ry steam greeted me. At the scent
I wept aloud, and to the Gods exclaim’d.
Oh Jupiter, and all ye Pow’rs above!
With cruel sleep and fatal ye have lull’d
My cares to rest, such horrible offence
Meantime my rash companions have devised.
Then, flew long-stoled Lampetia to the Sun
At once with tidings of his slaughter’d beeves,
And he, incensed, the Immortals thus address’d. 440
Jove, and ye everlasting Pow’rs divine!
Avenge me instant on the crew profane
Of Laertiades; Ulysses’ friends
Have dared to slay my beeves, which I with joy
Beheld, both when I climb’d the starry heav’ns,
And when to earth I sloped my “westring wheels,”
But if they yield me not amercement due
And honourable for my loss, to Hell
I will descend and give the ghosts my beams.
Then, thus the cloud-assembler God replied. 450
Sun! shine thou still on the Immortal Pow’rs,
And on the teeming earth, frail man’s abode.
My candent bolts can in a moment reach
And split their flying bark in the mid-sea.
These things Calypso told me, taught, herself,
By herald Hermes, as she oft affirm’d.
But when, descending to the shore, I reach’d
At length my bark, with aspect stern and tone
I reprimanded them, yet no redress
Could frame, or remedy — the beeves were dead. 460
Soon follow’d signs portentous sent from heav’n.
The skins all crept, and on the spits the flesh
Both roast and raw bellow’d, as with the voice
Of living beeves. Thus my devoted friends
Driving the fattest oxen of the Sun,
Feasted six days entire; but when the sev’nth
By mandate of Saturnian Jove appeared,
The storm then ceased to rage, and we, again
Embarking, launch’d our galley, rear’d the mast,
And gave our unfurl’d canvas to the wind. 470
The island left afar, and other land
Appearing none, but sky alone and sea,
Right o’er the hollow bark Saturnian Jove
Hung a cærulean cloud, dark’ning the Deep.
Not long my vessel ran, for, blowing wild,
Now came shrill Zephyrus; a stormy gust
Snapp’d sheer the shrouds on both sides; backward fell
The mast, and with loose tackle strew’d the hold;
Striking the pilot in the stern, it crush’d
His scull together; he a diver’s plunge 480
Made downward, and his noble spirit fled.
Meantime, Jove thund’ring, hurl’d into the ship
His bolts; she, smitten by the fires of Jove,
Quaked all her length; with sulphur fill’d she reek’d,
And o’er her sides headlong my people plunged
Like sea-mews, interdicted by that stroke
Of wrath divine to hope their country more.
But I, the vessel still paced to and fro,
Till, fever’d by the boist’rous waves, her sides
Forsook the keel now left to float alone. 490
Snapp’d where it join’d the keel the mast had fall’n,
But fell encircled with a leathern brace,
Which it retain’d; binding with this the mast
And keel together, on them both I sat,
Borne helpless onward by the dreadful gale.
And now the West subsided, and the South
Arose instead, with mis’ry charged for me,
That I might measure back my course again
To dire Charybdis. All night long I drove,
And when the sun arose, at Scylla’s rock 500
Once more, and at Charybdis’ gulph arrived.
It was the time when she absorb’d profound
The briny flood, but by a wave upborne
I seized the branches fast of the wild-fig.
To which, bat-like, I clung; yet where to fix
My foot secure found not, or where to ascend,
For distant lay the roots, and distant shot
The largest arms erect into the air,
O’ershadowing all Charybdis; therefore hard
I clench’d the boughs, till she disgorg’d again 510
Both keel and mast. Not undesired by me
They came, though late; for at what hour the judge,
After decision made of num’rous strifes
Between young candidates for honour, leaves
The forum for refreshment’ sake at home,
Then was it that the mast and keel emerged.
Deliver’d to a voluntary fall,
Fast by those beams I dash’d into the flood,
And seated on them both, with oary palms
Impell’d them; nor the Sire of Gods and men 520
Permitted Scylla to discern me more,
Else had I perish’d by her fangs at last.
Nine days I floated thence, and, on the tenth
Dark night, the Gods convey’d me to the isle
Ogygia, habitation of divine
Calypso, by whose hospitable aid
And assiduity, my strength revived.
But wherefore this? ye have already learn’d
That hist’ry, thou and thy illustrious spouse;
I told it yesterday, and hate a tale 530
Once amply told, then, needless, traced again.
BOOK XIII
ARGUMENT
Ulysses, having finished his narrative, and received additional presents
from the Phæacians, embarks; he is conveyed in his sleep to Ithaca, and
in his sleep is landed on that island. The ship that carried him is in
her return transformed by Neptune to a rock.
Minerva meets him on the shore, enables him to recollect his country,
which, till enlightened by her, he believed to be a country strange to
him, and they concert together the means of destroying the suitors. The
Goddess then repairs to Sparta to call thence Telemachus, and Ulysses, by
her aid disguised like a beggar, proceeds towards the cottage of Eumæus.
He ceas’d; the whole assembly silent sat,
Charm’d into ecstacy with his discourse
Throughout the twilight hall. Then, thus the King.
Ulysses, since beneath my brazen dome
Sublime thou hast arrived, like woes, I trust,
Thou shalt not in thy voyage hence sustain
By tempests tost, though much to woe inured.
To you, who daily in my presence quaff
Your princely meed of gen’rous wine and hear
The sacred bard, my pleasure, thus I speak. 10
The robes, wrought gold, and all the other gifts
To this our guest, by the Phæacian Chiefs
Brought hither in the sumptuous coffer lie.
But come — present ye to the stranger, each,
An ample tripod also, with a vase
Of smaller size, for which we will be paid
By public impost; for the charge of all
Excessive were by one alone defray’d.
So spake Alcinoüs, and his counsel
pleased;
Then, all retiring, sought repose at home. 20
But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
Look’d rosy forth, each hasted to the bark
With his illustrious present, which the might
Of King Alcinoüs, who himself her sides
Ascended, safe beneath the seats bestowed,
Lest it should harm or hinder, while he toil’d
In rowing, some Phæacian of the crew.
The palace of Alcinoüs seeking next,
Together, they prepared a new regale.
For them, in sacrifice, the sacred might 30
Of King Alcinoüs slew an ox to Jove
Saturnian, cloud-girt governor of all.
The thighs with fire prepared, all glad partook
The noble feast; meantime, the bard divine
Sang, sweet Demodocus, the people’s joy.
But oft Ulysses to the radiant sun
Turn’d wistful eyes, anxious for his decline,
Nor longer, now, patient of dull delay.
As when some hungry swain whose sable beeves
Have through the fallow dragg’d his pond’rous plow 40
All day, the setting sun views with delight
For supper’ sake, which with tir’d feet he seeks,
So welcome to Ulysses’ eyes appear’d
The sun-set of that eve; directing, then,
His speech to maritime Phæacia’s sons,
But to Alcinoüs chiefly, thus he said.
Alcinoüs, o’er Phæacia’s realm supreme!
Libation made, dismiss ye me in peace,
And farewell all! for what I wish’d, I have,
Conductors hence, and honourable gifts 50
With which heav’n prosper me! and may the Gods
Vouchsafe to me, at my return, to find
All safe, my spotless consort and my friends!
May ye, whom here I leave, gladden your wives
And see your children blest, and may the pow’rs
Immortal with all good enrich you all,
And from calamity preserve the land!
He ended, they unanimous, his speech
Applauded loud, and bade dismiss the guest
Who had so wisely spoken and so well. 60
Then thus Alcinoüs to his herald spake.
Pontonoüs! charging high the beaker, bear
To ev’ry guest beneath our roof the wine,
That, pray’r preferr’d to the eternal Sire,
We may dismiss our inmate to his home.
Then, bore Pontonoüs to ev’ry guest
The brimming cup; they, where they sat, perform’d
Libation due; but the illustrious Chief
Ulysses, from his seat arising, placed
A massy goblet in Areta’s hand, 70
To whom in accents wing’d, grateful, he said.
William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 167
