Book VI

1So he slept there, much-enduring noble Odysseus,

overcome with sleep and weariness. But Athena

went her way to the land and city of the Phaeacian men,

who once, in years past, lived in spacious Hypereia,¹

5near the Cyclopes, men of overweening pride,

who kept raiding them, and were the stronger in force.

From there godlike Nausithous had uprooted them and led them,

and settled them in Scheria, far from men who eat bread,

and drove a wall around the city, and built houses,

10and made temples for the gods, and divided out the plowlands.

But he long since had gone down to Hades, broken by fate,

and now Alcinous ruled, his counsels known from the gods.

To his house went the goddess, gray-eyed Athena,

devising the homecoming of great-hearted Odysseus.

15She went into the richly-worked chamber where a girl

lay sleeping, like the immortals in build and beauty:

Nausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinous;

and by her two handmaids, with beauty from the Graces,

one at each doorpost; and the shining doors were shut.

20Like a breath of wind she swept to the girl's bed²

and stood above her head, and spoke to her,

in the likeness of the daughter of Dymas, famed for ships,

a girl her own age, and dear to her heart.

In her likeness gray-eyed Athena said:

25"Nausicaa, how did your mother bear so careless a girl?³

Your shining clothes lie there uncared-for —

and your wedding is near, when you must wear beautiful things

yourself, and provide them for those who lead you in procession:

it is from things like these that a good name goes up

30among the people, and a father and honored mother are glad.

Come, let us go washing at the showing of dawn:

I will come with you and work beside you, so you may be ready

the sooner — for truly not much longer will you be unwed:

already the best men through all the land of the Phaeacians

35are wooing you — and your own line is theirs.

Come then: press your famous father, before the dawn,

to make ready the mules and a wagon to carry

the sashes and the robes and the shining coverlets.

And for yourself, too, it is far more fitting so than going

40on foot: the washing-pools are a long way from the city."

So speaking, gray-eyed Athena went away

to Olympus, where they say the seat of the gods stands fast⁴

forever: not shaken by winds, never soaked

by rain, nor does snow come near it, but clear sky

45spreads cloudless there, and a white radiance runs over it;

in that place the blessed gods take pleasure all their days.

There the gray-eyed one went, when she had counseled the girl.

At once Dawn came on her fair throne, and woke

Nausicaa of the lovely robe; and she wondered at her dream

50and went through the house to tell her parents,

her dear father and mother. She found them within:

her mother sat at the hearth with her attendant women,

spinning yarn dyed sea-purple; her father she met

at the door, on his way out to join the famous kings

55in council, where the lordly Phaeacians called him.

She stood close to her dear father and said:

"Papa dear, won't you make ready a wagon for me,⁵

the high one with the good wheels, so I can take the fine clothes

to the river for washing, that lie about me dirty?

60And for you too it is only proper, when you sit among the first men

debating counsels, to have clean clothing on your body.

And five dear sons have been born to you in these halls —

two married, and three flourishing bachelors —

and they are always wanting fresh-washed clothes to wear

65when they go to the dancing. All this is on my mind."

So she spoke: she was shy of naming ripe marriage⁶

to her dear father. But he saw it all, and answered:

"I do not grudge you the mules, child, or anything else.

Go: the slaves will make ready a wagon for you,

70the high one with the good wheels, fitted with its top-rack."

So saying he called to the slaves, and they obeyed.

Outside, they made ready the smooth-running mule wagon

and led the mules under and yoked them to it;

and the girl brought the shining clothing from her room

75and laid it in the polished wagon,

and her mother packed a box with heartening food

of every kind — put in delicacies, and poured wine

in a goatskin bag; and the girl climbed up on the wagon.

And she gave her soft olive oil in a golden flask,

80so she and her attendant women might anoint themselves after bathing.

And she took up the whip and the glossy reins

and whipped the mules to a run; and there was a clatter of hooves,

and they strained on without slackening, carrying the clothes and her —

not alone: her handmaids went along beside her.

85And when they came to the beautiful stream of the river,

where the washing-pools never fail — plenty of clear water

welling up through and running over, to clean the dirtiest things —

there they loosed the mules from under the wagon

and shooed them along the eddying river

90to graze the honey-sweet water-grass; and they lifted the clothes

from the wagon in armfuls and carried them into the dark water,

and trod them briskly in the trenches, racing one another.⁷

And when they had washed and rinsed away all the dirt,

they spread everything out in rows along the shingle of the sea,

95where the waves washed the pebbles cleanest against the shore.

And when they had bathed and rubbed themselves richly with oil,

they took their meal by the banks of the river

and waited for the clothes to dry in the shining of the sun.

And when she and her slave-women had had their joy of food,

100they threw off their head-veils and played at ball,

and white-armed Nausicaa led them in the singing.

As Artemis the arrow-pourer goes down the mountains,⁸

down long Taygetus or Erymanthus,

delighting in the boars and the running deer,

105and with her the nymphs, daughters of aegis-bearing Zeus,

play across the wild country, and Leto's heart is glad,

for she carries her head and brow above them all

and is known at once, though all of them are beautiful:

so the unwed girl outshone her handmaids.

110But when she was about to fold the beautiful clothes,

yoke the mules, and turn for home again,

then the goddess thought of one thing more, gray-eyed Athena:

that Odysseus should wake, and see the lovely-eyed girl,

and she should lead him to the city of the Phaeacian men.

115So the princess tossed the ball to one of her handmaids;⁹

the handmaid she missed, and it fell in a deep eddy,

and they shrieked aloud. And noble Odysseus woke,

and sitting up he turned it over in his mind and heart:

"Ah me — whose country have I come to now? What men's?¹⁰

120Are they violent, savage, without justice,

or kind to strangers, with hearts that fear the gods?

A female crying rang around me just now — girls' voices:

nymphs, who hold the sheer peaks of the mountains

and the springs of rivers and the grassy water-meadows?

125Or am I now, can it be, near men with human speech?

Come — I will test it for myself, and see."

So speaking noble Odysseus slipped out from the thicket,

and from the thick wood with his heavy hand he broke a branch

in leaf, to hold about his body and screen a man's privates.

130And he went like a mountain-bred lion, sure of his strength,¹¹

who goes on through rain and wind, his two eyes

burning, and he comes down on the cattle or the sheep

or the wild deer, for his belly commands him

to make trial of the flocks — even to enter the close-built fold:

135so Odysseus was about to come among the fair-braided girls,

naked as he was: for need had come upon him.

And he loomed terrible before them, crusted with the salt sea's brine,

and they scattered, one here, one there, along the jutting sandspits.

Alone the daughter of Alcinous stayed: for Athena

140set courage in her heart and took the trembling from her limbs.

She stood and faced him, holding her ground. And Odysseus weighed it,¹²

whether to clasp the knees of the lovely-eyed girl and beg,

or standing apart as he was, with honeyed words,

to beg her to show him the city and give him clothing.

145And as he weighed it, this seemed the better way:

to stand apart and beg with honeyed words,

lest the girl's heart take anger if he touched her knees.

At once he spoke — a honeyed speech, and a shrewd one:¹³

"I am at your knees, queen — goddess or mortal, are you?

150If you are one of the gods who hold wide heaven,

then it is to Artemis, daughter of great Zeus,

that I liken you nearest — in beauty, in stature, in bearing.

But if you are one of the mortals who live on the earth,

three times blessed your father and your honored mother,

155three times blessed your brothers! Surely their hearts

are warmed through with gladness always because of you,

watching such a young shoot go stepping into the dance.

But blessed at heart above all others is that man

who weighs down the scales of the bride-gifts and leads you home.

160For my eyes have never seen a mortal like you,

not man, not woman. Awe takes me, looking at you.

In Delos once, beside Apollo's altar, I saw¹⁴

such a thing: the young shoot of a date-palm springing up —

for I came there too, and a great host followed me,

165on that road where my bitter cares were to be —

and just as, seeing that, I stood amazed at heart

a long time, since no such stem had ever risen from the earth,

so, lady, I wonder at you, amazed, and I am terribly afraid

to touch your knees. But hard grief is upon me.

170Yesterday, on the twentieth day, I escaped the wine-dark sea:

all that time the waves carried me, and the driving storms,

away from the island Ogygia. And now some power has cast me here —

to suffer some new evil in this place too, no doubt: for I do not think

the evil will stop; the gods will accomplish plenty more first.

175But pity me, queen. After many hard labors

it is to you first I have come; I know not one

of the others whose city and land this is.

Show me the town, and give me a rag to throw around me —

if perhaps you had some wrapping-cloth for the linen when you came.

180And may the gods grant you all your heart desires:¹⁵

a husband and a house — and may they add like-mindedness,

the good kind. For nothing is stronger or better than that:

when two who think alike keep house together,

a man and his wife — much grief to their ill-wishers,

185joy to their friends; and they themselves know it best."

Then white-armed Nausicaa answered him:

"Stranger — since you seem neither base nor witless a man —

it is Olympian Zeus himself who deals out fortune to mankind,

to good and bad, to each one as he wills;

190and to you, I suppose, he gave this lot, and you must bear it, come what may.

But now, since you have come to our city and our land,

you shall not want for clothing, nor for anything else

that is owed a hard-worn suppliant when he comes.

I will show you the town, and tell you the name of the people.

195The Phaeacians hold this city and this land,

and I am the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous,

on whom the strength and power of the Phaeacians hang."

She spoke, and called to her fair-braided handmaids:

"Stand still, you girls! Where are you running at the sight of a man?

200You cannot think he is one of an enemy people?

There is no living mortal, and there will be none,¹⁶

who could come bearing war into the land

of the Phaeacian men. For we are very dear to the deathless ones,

and we live apart, in the much-surging sea,

205at the world's edge, and no other mortals mix with us.

No — this is some poor wanderer come here astray,

whom we must care for now. From Zeus they come, all of them,¹⁷

strangers and beggars; and a gift, though small, is dear.

Come, girls: give the stranger food and drink,

210and bathe him in the river, where there is shelter from the wind."

So she spoke; and they stood, and called to one another,

and they set Odysseus down in the sheltered place, as she commanded —

Nausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinous —

and laid a mantle and a tunic by him for clothing,

215and gave him soft olive oil in the golden flask,

and urged him to bathe in the streams of the river.

Then noble Odysseus spoke among the handmaids:

"Stand off there, girls, at a distance, so that I myself¹⁸

may wash the brine from my shoulders, and rub myself

220with oil: it is long indeed since oil came near my skin.

But I will not bathe in front of you. I would be ashamed

to stand naked among fair-braided girls."

So he spoke; and they went apart, and told the girl.

And noble Odysseus washed his body in the river,

225sluicing off the brine that caked his back and broad shoulders,

and scrubbed from his head the salt-scurf of the barren sea.

And when he had washed all over, and rubbed himself with oil,

and put on the clothes the unwed girl had given him,

then Athena, born of Zeus, made him¹⁹

230taller to look at, and broader, and down from his head

she made the locks flow in curls, like the hyacinth flower.

As when a man lays gold over silver — a craftsman

whom Hephaestus and Pallas Athena have taught

art of every kind, and he finishes works full of grace —

235so she poured grace over his head and shoulders.

Then he went apart and sat on the shingle of the sea,

shining with beauty and grace. And the girl gazed at him,

and spoke among her fair-braided handmaids:

"Listen, my white-armed girls, while I say something.

240Not against the will of all the gods who hold Olympus

does this man come among the godlike Phaeacians.

Before, I confess, he seemed to me a sorry sight;

now he is like the gods who hold wide heaven.

If only such a man might be called my husband,²⁰

245living here — if only it pleased him to stay!

But come, girls: give the stranger food and drink."

So she spoke, and they listened well and obeyed,

and set food and drink beside Odysseus.

And he drank and ate, much-enduring noble Odysseus,

250ravenously: it was long since he had tasted food.²¹

But white-armed Nausicaa thought of one thing more:

she folded the clothes and stowed them in the beautiful wagon,

and yoked the strong-hoofed mules, and mounted herself,

and called Odysseus on, and spoke a word, and named him:

255"Up now, stranger, and we go to the city, so I may send you

to the house of my wise father — where, I promise you,

you will meet the best men of all the Phaeacians.

Only do exactly this — you do not seem to me short of sense.²²

While we are passing the fields and the works of men,

260walk with the handmaids, behind the mules and wagon,

briskly; I will lead the way.

But when we are about to enter the city — a high wall rings it,²³

and a beautiful harbor lies on either side of the town,

with a narrow causeway in; and the curved ships are drawn up

265along the road, for every man has his own slip there;

and there is the gathering-place around Poseidon's fine precinct,

fitted with quarried stones set deep in the earth;

and there men see to the tackle of their black ships,

the cables and the sails, and fine down their oars —

270for the Phaeacians care nothing for the bow or the quiver,

but for masts, and ships' oars, and the trim ships themselves,

in which they delight as they cross the gray salt sea —

it is their ugly talk I shrink from: someone behind my back²⁴

might sneer; there are insolent men enough in the town;

275and one of the meaner sort, meeting us, might say:

'Who is this following Nausicaa — this tall handsome

stranger? Where did she find him? A husband for her, no doubt!

Some castaway she has taken up, off his ship,

a man from far parts — since nobody lives near us;

280or some god, long prayed-for, come down to her

out of heaven in answer, and hers he will be all her days!

Better so, if she has gone out and found herself a husband

from elsewhere — since she scorns her own, here in the land,

the Phaeacians, though many fine men are wooing her!'

285So they will say, and it would be a reproach against me.

And I would blame another girl who did such things myself:

who, against the will of her dear father and mother living,

kept company with men before the day of open marriage.

So, stranger, mark my word quickly, and you will win

290escort and homecoming from my father soonest.

You will find a shining grove of Athena near the road —

poplars; a spring wells up in it; a meadow lies around it.

There is my father's park there, and his flourishing orchard,

as far from the city as a man's shout carries.²⁵

295Sit down there and wait a while, until we

have entered the town and reached my father's house.

But when you judge that we have reached the house,

then go into the city of the Phaeacians, and ask

for the house of my father, great-hearted Alcinous.

300It is easily known: a little child could lead you —

a baby; for the houses of the Phaeacians are not built

anything like it — such is the house of the hero

Alcinous. And once the buildings and the court have hidden you,

go quickly straight through the great hall, until you come

305to my mother. She sits at the hearth in the light of the fire,²⁶

spinning yarn dyed sea-purple — a wonder to see —

leaning against a pillar, and her slave-women sit behind her.

And there my father's chair is tilted close to hers,

where he sits and drinks his wine like an immortal.

310Pass him by, and throw your arms around the knees

of my mother — if you would see your day of homecoming

with rejoicing, and quickly, though you come from very far.

If she once takes kindly thought for you in her heart,

then there is hope you will see your own people, and come

315to your well-built house and your own fatherland."

So speaking she touched the mules with the shining whip,

and they quickly left the flowing river behind.

Well they trotted, well they wheeled their legs along,

and she drove with care, so that the walkers could keep pace —

320the handmaids and Odysseus — and used the lash with judgment.²⁷

And the sun went down, and they came to the famous grove

sacred to Athena. There noble Odysseus sat down,

and at once he prayed to the daughter of great Zeus:

"Hear me, child of aegis-bearing Zeus, Unwearied One.²⁸

325Hear me now at last, since before you never heard me

when I was broken — when the famous earth-shaker broke me.

Grant that I come among the Phaeacians pitied, and a friend."

So he spoke in prayer, and Pallas Athena heard him.

But she did not yet show herself to him face to face: she stood²⁹

330in awe of her father's brother, who raged on furiously

against godlike Odysseus, until the day he reached his own land.