The Odyssey
Trojans were pressing me so sorely about the dead body of Achilles, for
then I should have had due burial and the Achaeans would have honoured
my name; but now it seems that I shall come to a most pitiable end.”
As he spoke a sea broke over him with such terrific fury that the raft
reeled again, and he was carried overboard a long way off. He let go
the helm, and the force of the hurricane was so great that it broke the
mast half way up, and both sail and yard went over into the sea. For a
long time Ulysses was under water, and it was all he could do to rise
to the surface again, for the clothes Calypso had given him weighed him
down; but at last he got his head above water and spat out the bitter
brine that was running down his face in streams. In spite of all this,
however, he did not lose sight of his raft, but swam as fast as he
could towards it, got hold of it, and climbed on board again so as to
escape drowning. The sea took the raft and tossed it about as Autumn
winds whirl thistledown round and round upon a road. It was as though
the South, North, East, and West winds were all playing battledore and
shuttlecock with it at once.
When he was in this plight, Ino daughter of Cadmus, also called
Leucothea, saw him. She had formerly been a mere mortal, but had been
since raised to the rank of a marine goddess. Seeing in what great
distress Ulysses now was, she had compassion upon him, and, rising like
a sea-gull from the waves, took her seat upon the raft.
“My poor good man,” said she, “why is Neptune so furiously angry with
you? He is giving you a great deal of trouble, but for all his bluster
he will not kill you. You seem to be a sensible person, do then as I
bid you; strip, leave your raft to drive before the wind, and swim to
the Phaeacian coast where better luck awaits you. And here, take my
veil and put it round your chest; it is enchanted, and you can come to
no harm so long as you wear it. As soon as you touch land take it off,
throw it back as far as you can into the sea, and then go away again.”
With these words she took off her veil and gave it him. Then she dived
down again like a sea-gull and vanished beneath the dark blue waters.
But Ulysses did not know what to think. “Alas,” he said to himself in
his dismay, “this is only some one or other of the gods who is luring
me to ruin by advising me to quit my raft. At any rate I will not do so
at present, for the land where she said I should be quit of all
troubles seemed to be still a good way off. I know what I will do—I am
sure it will be best—no matter what happens I will stick to the raft as
long as her timbers hold together, but when the sea breaks her up I
will swim for it; I do not see how I can do any better than this.”
While he was thus in two minds, Neptune sent a terrible great wave that
seemed to rear itself above his head till it broke right over the raft,
which then went to pieces as though it were a heap of dry chaff tossed
about by a whirlwind. Ulysses got astride of one plank and rode upon it
as if he were on horseback; he then took off the clothes Calypso had
given him, bound Ino’s veil under his arms, and plunged into the
sea—meaning to swim on shore. King Neptune watched him as he did so,
and wagged his head, muttering to himself and saying, “There now, swim
up and down as you best can till you fall in with well-to-do people. I
do not think you will be able to say that I have let you off too
lightly.” On this he lashed his horses and drove to Aegae where his
palace is.
But Minerva resolved to help Ulysses, so she bound the ways of all the
winds except one, and made them lie quite still; but she roused a good
stiff breeze from the North that should lay the waters till Ulysses
reached the land of the Phaeacians where he would be safe.
Thereon he floated about for two nights and two days in the water, with
a heavy swell on the sea and death staring him in the face; but when
the third day broke, the wind fell and there was a dead calm without so
much as a breath of air stirring. As he rose on the swell he looked
eagerly ahead, and could see land quite near. Then, as children rejoice
when their dear father begins to get better after having for a long
time borne sore affliction sent him by some angry spirit, but the gods
deliver him from evil, so was Ulysses thankful when he again saw land
and trees, and swam on with all his strength that he might once more
set foot upon dry ground. When, however, he got within earshot, he
began to hear the surf thundering up against the rocks, for the swell
still broke against them with a terrific roar. Everything was enveloped
in spray; there were no harbours where a ship might ride, nor shelter
of any kind, but only headlands, low-lying rocks, and mountain tops.
Ulysses’ heart now began to fail him, and he said despairingly to
himself, “Alas, Jove has let me see land after swimming so far that I
had given up all hope, but I can find no landing place, for the coast
is rocky and surf-beaten, the rocks are smooth and rise sheer from the
sea, with deep water close under them so that I cannot climb out for
want of foot hold. I am afraid some great wave will lift me off my legs
and dash me against the rocks as I leave the water—which would give me
a sorry landing. If, on the other hand, I swim further in search of
some shelving beach or harbour, a hurricane may carry me out to sea
again sorely against my will, or heaven may send some great monster of
the deep to attack me; for Amphitrite breeds many such, and I know that
Neptune is very angry with me.”
While he was thus in two minds a wave caught him and took him with such
force against the rocks that he would have been smashed and torn to
pieces if Minerva had not shown him what to do. He caught hold of the
rock with both hands and clung to it groaning with pain till the wave
retired, so he was saved that time; but presently the wave came on
again and carried him back with it far into the sea—tearing his hands
as the suckers of a polypus are torn when some one plucks it from its
bed, and the stones come up along with it—even so did the rocks tear
the skin from his strong hands, and then the wave drew him deep down
under the water.
Here poor Ulysses would have certainly perished even in spite of his
own destiny, if Minerva had not helped him to keep his wits about him.
He swam seaward again, beyond reach of the surf that was beating
against the land, and at the same time he kept looking towards the
shore to see if he could find some haven, or a spit that should take
the waves aslant. By and by, as he swam on, he came to the mouth of a
river, and here he thought would be the best place, for there were no
rocks, and it afforded shelter from the wind. He felt that there was a
current, so he prayed inwardly and said:
“Hear me, O King, whoever you may be, and save me from the anger of the
sea-god Neptune, for I approach you prayerfully. Any one who has lost
his way has at all times a claim even upon the gods, wherefore in my
distress I draw near to your stream, and cling to the knees of your
riverhood. Have mercy upon me, O king, for I declare myself your
suppliant.”
Then the god staid his stream and stilled the waves, making all calm
before him, and bringing him safely into the mouth of the river. Here
at last Ulysses’ knees and strong hands failed him, for the sea had
completely broken him. His body was all swollen, and his mouth and
nostrils ran down like a river with sea-water, so that he could neither
breathe nor speak, and lay swooning from sheer exhaustion; presently,
when he had got his breath and came to himself again, he took off the
scarf that Ino had given him and threw it back into the salt54 stream
of the river, whereon Ino received it into her hands from the wave that
bore it towards her. Then he left the river, laid himself down among
the rushes, and kissed the bounteous earth.
“Alas,” he cried to himself in his dismay, “what ever will become of
me, and how is it all to end? If I stay here upon the river bed through
the long watches of the night, I am so exhausted that the bitter cold
and damp may make an end of me—for towards sunrise there will be a keen
wind blowing from off the river. If, on the other hand, I climb the
hill side, find shelter in the woods, and sleep in some thicket, I may
escape the cold and have a good night’s rest, but some savage beast may
take advantage of me and devour me.”
In the end he deemed it best to take to the woods, and he found one
upon some high ground not far from the water. There he crept beneath
two shoots of olive that grew from a single stock—the one an ungrafted
sucker, while the other had been grafted. No wind, however squally,
could break through the cover they afforded, nor could the sun’s rays
pierce them, nor the rain get through them, so closely did they grow
into one another. Ulysses crept under these and began to make himself a
bed to lie on, for there was a great litter of dead leaves lying
about—enough to make a covering for two or three men even in hard
winter weather. He was glad enough to see this, so he laid himself down
and heaped the leaves all round him. Then, as one who lives alone in
the country, far from any neighbor, hides a brand as fire-seed in the
ashes to save himself from having to get a light elsewhere, even so did
Ulysses cover himself up with leaves; and Minerva shed a sweet sleep
upon his eyes, closed his eyelids, and made him lose all memories of
his sorrows.
BOOK VI
THE MEETING BETWEEN NAUSICAA AND ULYSSES.
So here Ulysses slept, overcome by sleep and toil; but Minerva went off
to the country and city of the Phaeacians—a people who used to live in
the fair town of Hypereia, near the lawless Cyclopes. Now the Cyclopes
were stronger than they and plundered them, so their king Nausithous
moved them thence and settled them in Scheria, far from all other
people. He surrounded the city with a wall, built houses and temples,
and divided the lands among his people; but he was dead and gone to the
house of Hades, and King Alcinous, whose counsels were inspired of
heaven, was now reigning. To his house, then, did Minerva hie in
furtherance of the return of Ulysses.
She went straight to the beautifully decorated bedroom in which there
slept a girl who was as lovely as a goddess, Nausicaa, daughter to King
Alcinous. Two maid servants were sleeping near her, both very pretty,
one on either side of the doorway, which was closed with well made
folding doors. Minerva took the form of the famous sea captain Dymas’s
daughter, who was a bosom friend of Nausicaa and just her own age;
then, coming up to the girl’s bedside like a breath of wind, she
hovered over her head and said:
“Nausicaa, what can your mother have been about, to have such a lazy
daughter? Here are your clothes all lying in disorder, yet you are
going to be married almost immediately, and should not only be well
dressed yourself, but should find good clothes for those who attend
you. This is the way to get yourself a good name, and to make your
father and mother proud of you. Suppose, then, that we make tomorrow a
washing day, and start at daybreak. I will come and help you so that
you may have everything ready as soon as possible, for all the best
young men among your own people are courting you, and you are not going
to remain a maid much longer. Ask your father, therefore, to have a
waggon and mules ready for us at daybreak, to take the rugs, robes, and
girdles, and you can ride, too, which will be much pleasanter for you
than walking, for the washing-cisterns are some way from the town.”
When she had said this Minerva went away to Olympus, which they say is
the everlasting home of the gods. Here no wind beats roughly, and