Book VII

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

while the mules' strength carried the girl to the city.

And when she reached her father's famous house,

she halted at the gateway; and her brothers around her

5stood, men like the immortals, and from under the wagon

they loosed the mules, and carried the clothing in;

and she herself went to her room. And her fire was lit

by an old woman of Apeire, the chamber-keeper Eurymedusa,¹

whom once the curved ships brought from Apeire:

10they had picked her out as a prize of honor for Alcinous,

because he ruled all the Phaeacians, and the people listened to him as to a god.

She had nursed white-armed Nausicaa in the halls,

and now she kindled her fire and made her supper in her room.

And then Odysseus rose to go to the city; and Athena,

15with kind thought for Odysseus, poured a thick mist around him,²

so that no great-hearted Phaeacian, crossing his path,

might needle him with words and ask him who he was.

But when he was on the point of entering the lovely city,

there the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, met him,

20in the likeness of a young girl, unwed, carrying a pitcher.

She stopped in front of him, and noble Odysseus asked her:

"Child, would you not guide me to the house of a man

named Alcinous, who is lord among these people?

I am a stranger, hard-worn, come here

25from far away, out of a distant country: so I know not one

of the people whose city and land this is."

Then the goddess spoke to him again, gray-eyed Athena:

"Then I will show you, father stranger, the house you bid me

show: for he lives close by my own blameless father.

30Only go in silence, so, and I will lead the way:

do not look at any of the people, and ask no questions.

For these men do not much endure strangers,³

nor welcome with open love the man who comes from elsewhere.

They trust instead in their fast ships, their swift ones,

35and cross the great gulf on them, since the earth-shaker granted it:

ships swift as a wing, or as a thought."⁴

So speaking, Pallas Athena led the way

swiftly, and he followed in the footsteps of the god.

And the Phaeacians, famed for ships, never marked him

40going through the city among them: Athena

of the lovely braids would not allow it — the dread goddess —

who poured a wondrous haze around him, with kind thought in her heart.

And Odysseus wondered at the harbors and the trim ships,

at the gathering-places of the heroes themselves, and the walls,

45long and high, fitted with palisades, a wonder to see.

But when they came to the king's famous house,

the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, began to speak among them:

"Here, father stranger, is the house you bid me

show you. You will find the Zeus-nurtured kings

50feasting at the feast. Go in, and let your heart

fear nothing: the bold man proves the better man⁵

in every venture, though he come from another country.

First you will come upon the mistress in the halls:

Arete is the name she is called, and she comes of the same⁶

55parents, the very ones who fathered King Alcinous.

Nausithous first was born from Poseidon the earth-shaker

and Periboea, loveliest of women,

youngest daughter of great-hearted Eurymedon,

who once was king over the overweening Giants —

60but he destroyed his reckless people, and was destroyed himself.

With her Poseidon lay, and fathered a son,

great-hearted Nausithous, who ruled among the Phaeacians;

and Nausithous fathered Rhexenor and Alcinous.

Rhexenor — still without a son, a bridegroom in his hall —

65Apollo of the silver bow struck down, leaving one only child,

Arete. Her Alcinous made his wife,

and honored her as no other woman on earth is honored,⁷

of all the wives who now keep house under their husbands:

so heartfelt is the honor she has held, and holds still,

70from her dear children and from Alcinous himself

and from the people, who look on her as on a god

and greet her with blessings when she walks through the town.

For she herself has no lack of noble understanding:

for those she favors — even men — she dissolves quarrels.⁸

75If she once takes kindly thought for you in her heart,

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

to your high-roofed house and your own fatherland."

So speaking, gray-eyed Athena went away

over the barren sea, and left lovely Scheria,

80and came to Marathon and wide-wayed Athens,⁹

and entered the close-built house of Erechtheus. But Odysseus

went toward the famous house of Alcinous, and his heart

was churning as he stood there, before he reached the threshold of bronze.

For there was a sheen as of the sun or the moon¹⁰

85through the high-roofed house of great-hearted Alcinous.

Walls of bronze ran this way and that,

from the threshold to the inmost room, with a frieze of blue enamel round them;

doors of gold closed the close-built house within;

the doorposts standing on the bronze threshold were of silver,

90the lintel above was silver, and the door-handle gold;

and on either side stood dogs of gold and silver¹¹

that Hephaestus had made with his knowing craft

to guard the house of great-hearted Alcinous —

creatures deathless and unaging all their days.

95And within, seats stood along the wall this way and that,

from the threshold to the inmost room in an unbroken line, and over them

were thrown fine close-spun coverings, the work of women.

There the leaders of the Phaeacians would sit

drinking and eating: what they had never failed.

100And youths of gold on well-built pedestals

stood holding blazing torches in their hands,

lighting the nights through the house for the feasters.

And fifty slave-women serve the house:¹²

some grind the apple-gold grain at the mill,

105others weave at the looms and turn the spindles,

sitting close as the leaves of a tall poplar,

and from the close-woven linen the soft oil runs.

As far as the Phaeacian men are skilled beyond all others

at driving a fast ship on the sea, so are their women

110masters of the loom: for Athena has given them beyond others

knowledge of beautiful work, and noble minds.

And outside the courtyard, close by the doors, is a great orchard¹³

of four acres, with a hedge driven round it on both sides.

There tall trees grow in full leaf and flower:

115pears and pomegranates and apple trees bright with fruit,

sweet figs and olives in full flourish.

Their fruit never perishes, never fails,

winter or summer, the year round; but always

the breathing West Wind sets some growing, ripens others:

120pear grows old upon pear, apple upon apple,

grape-cluster upon cluster, fig upon fig.

And there his vineyard, heavy with fruit, is rooted,

one part of it a drying-ground on level open earth,

baking in the sun; other grapes they are gathering,

125and others they are treading; and out in front are the unripe ones,

one row shedding its blossom, another darkening toward purple.

And there, by the last row of vines, grow ordered beds

of greens of every kind, shining the whole year through;

and two springs: one is scattered through all the garden,

130the other dives under the courtyard threshold and runs

toward the high house, where the townsfolk drew their water.

Such were the shining gifts of the gods in the house of Alcinous.

There much-enduring noble Odysseus stood gazing.¹⁴

And when his heart had wondered at it all,

135he stepped quickly over the threshold into the house.

He found the leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians

pouring from their cups to the sharp-eyed slayer of Argus,¹⁵

to whom they poured last of all, when they thought of sleep.

But much-enduring noble Odysseus went on through the house

140wrapped in the thick mist Athena had poured around him,

until he came to Arete and to King Alcinous.

And Odysseus threw his arms around Arete's knees —¹⁶

and then, just then, the god-sent mist poured back off him.

And they fell dumb through the house at the sight of the man,

145and stared in wonder. And Odysseus made his plea:

"Arete, daughter of godlike Rhexenor:

to your husband, to your knees, I come after much labor —

and to these feasters. May the gods grant them fortunate

lives; and may each hand down to his children

150the wealth in his halls, and the honors the people have given him.

But for me — speed my sending, that I may come to my fatherland,

and quickly: for long now, far from my own people, I suffer pains."

So speaking he sat down on the hearth, in the ashes¹⁷

by the fire; and they were all hushed in silence.

155At long last the old hero Echeneus spoke —

a man elder-born beyond the other Phaeacians,

who excelled in speech, knowing many things grown old with him;

with good will toward them he spoke to the assembly:

"Alcinous, this is not the fairer way — it is not fitting —

160a stranger sitting on the ground, on the hearth, in the ashes,

while these men hold themselves in, waiting for your word.

Come — raise the stranger up, and seat him on a chair

with silver studs, and bid the heralds

mix more wine, so that to Zeus who delights in thunder

165we may pour also — the god who walks beside honored suppliants;¹⁸

and let the housekeeper give the stranger supper from her stores."

And when the sacred strength of Alcinous heard it,¹⁹

he took the hand of battle-wise Odysseus, the man of shifting counsels,

raised him from the hearth and set him on a shining chair,

170making his son stand up — kind-hearted Laodamas,²⁰

who sat beside him, and whom he loved the most.

A handmaid brought water for their hands in a pitcher,

a beautiful golden one, and poured it over a silver basin

for them to wash, and drew up a polished table beside them.

175The grave housekeeper brought bread and set it before them,

laying out delicacies in plenty, giving gladly of her store;

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

And then the strength of Alcinous said to the herald:

"Pontonous, mix the bowl, and serve out the wine

180to all in the hall, so that to Zeus who delights in thunder

we may pour also — the god who walks beside honored suppliants."

So he spoke, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine

and served all, pouring first drops in each cup for the gods.

But when they had poured, and drunk what their hearts would have,

185Alcinous addressed them all, and said:

"Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians,²¹

while I say what the heart in my breast commands.

Now you have feasted: go home and take your rest;

in the morning we will call more of the elders together

190and host the stranger in the halls, and offer the gods

fine victims; and after that we will think also

of his sending, so that without labor or pain this stranger

may come, under our escort, to his own fatherland

rejoicing, and quickly, though he come from very far,

195and suffer no evil or harm midway

before he sets foot in his own land. There, afterward,

he will suffer whatever Destiny and the grave Spinners²²

spun in his thread at his birth, when his mother bore him.

But if he is one of the deathless ones, come down from heaven,²³

200then this is some new thing the gods are devising:

for always in time past the gods have shown themselves openly

to us, whenever we offer glorious hecatombs,

and they feast beside us, sitting where we sit.

And if a lone traveler on the road meets them,

205they use no disguise with us — for we are of near kin,

like the Cyclopes and the wild tribes of the Giants."

Then Odysseus of the many designs answered him:

"Alcinous, let your mind be easy on that count. I am not²⁴

like the deathless ones who hold wide heaven,

210not in build, not in bearing: I am like mortal men.

Whoever you know among mankind who carry the heaviest

loads of misery — it is to them I would compare my pains.

Yes, and I could tell a still longer tale of evils,

all that I have labored through by the gods' will.

215But let me eat my supper, for all my grief:²⁵

for there is nothing more dog-shameless than the hateful belly,

which commands a man to remember it, by force,

however worn he is, however deep the sorrow in his heart —

as I have sorrow in my heart, and still this thing

220forever bids me eat and drink, and makes me forget

all I have suffered, and orders me: be filled.

But you — bestir yourselves at the showing of dawn,

to set me, unlucky as I am, on my own fathers' soil,

even after all I have suffered. And let life leave me once I have seen²⁶

225my own possessions, my slaves, and my great high-roofed house."

So he spoke, and they all approved it and urged

that the stranger be sent home, since he had spoken rightly.

But when they had poured, and drunk what their hearts would have,

the others went home to sleep, each man to his own house,

230and noble Odysseus was left behind in the hall,

and beside him sat Arete and godlike Alcinous,

while the handmaids cleared away the service of the feast.

And white-armed Arete began to speak among them —²⁷

for she had recognized the mantle and the tunic, seeing the beautiful

235clothes she herself had made with her attendant women —

and lifting her voice she spoke winged words to him:

"Stranger, this question first, and I ask it myself:

What man are you, and from where? Who gave you these clothes?

Did you not say you came here wandering over the sea?"

240Then Odysseus of the many designs answered her:

"It is hard, my queen, to tell my griefs straight through²⁸

to the end: the gods of heaven have given me so many.

But this I will tell you, since you ask it of me and inquire.

There is an island, Ogygia, lying far off in the sea,

245where the daughter of Atlas lives — guileful Calypso

of the lovely braids, a dread goddess; and no one

mixes with her, no god, no mortal man.

But me — unlucky me — some power brought to her hearth

alone, after Zeus with a hurl of the white lightning had shattered

250my fast ship apart in the middle of the wine-dark sea.

There all the rest of my brave companions perished,

but I threw my arms round the keel of my curved ship

and was carried nine days; and on the tenth, in the black night,

the gods brought me near the island Ogygia, where Calypso

255lives, she of the lovely braids, the dread goddess. And she took me in

and loved me and tended me devotedly, and promised

to make me deathless and unaging all my days;

but she never once persuaded the heart in my breast.

There I stayed seven years unbroken, and forever wet

260with my tears the immortal clothing Calypso gave me.

But when the eighth year came wheeling round for me,

then at last she urged me — commanded me — to go,

whether by some message from Zeus, or her own mind had turned.²⁹

She sent me off on a raft bound plank to plank, and gave me much —

265bread and sweet wine — and dressed me in immortal clothing,

and sent up a fair wind for me, harmless and warm.

Seventeen days I sailed on, crossing the water,

and on the eighteenth appeared the shadowy mountains

of your land, and my own heart was glad —

270ill-fated as I was: for I was yet to keep company with misery

in plenty, sent upon me by Poseidon the earth-shaker,

who loosed the winds against me and barred my road,

and stirred up a sea past all speaking; nor would the wave

let me be carried on my raft, for all my thick groaning.

275The squall then shattered the raft to pieces. But I

swam — cut my way across that gulf — until wind and water

carried me near, and brought me to your land.

There, as I climbed out, the wave would have forced me onto the shore,

dashing me on the great rocks in a joyless place;

280but I gave way, and swam back out, until I came

to a river, where at last the ground seemed best to me,

clear of stones, and there was shelter from the wind.

I dropped there, gathering my spirit back; and ambrosial night

came on. I climbed out clear of the heaven-fed river

285and fell asleep in the bushes, and heaped the fallen leaves

around me; and a god poured down boundless sleep.

There in the leaves, my heart worn down with grief,

I slept the whole night through, and dawn, and midday;

the sun was slanting down when sweet sleep let me go.

290And I saw your daughter's handmaids on the beach

at play, and she among them, like the goddesses.

To her I made my plea. And she did not fail in noble understanding —³⁰

as you would not hope of the young when you meet them

face to face: for the young are forever thoughtless.

295She gave me bread in plenty, and fire-bright wine,

and a bath in the river, and gave me these clothes.

That, for all my grieving, is the truth of it, told through."

Then Alcinous answered him in turn, and said:

"Stranger, in this one point, truly, my child did not see

300rightly: that she did not bring you with her attendant women

to our house — when she was the first you supplicated."

Then Odysseus of the many designs answered him:

"Hero, do not scold your blameless daughter for that.³¹

She did tell me to follow along with her handmaids;

305it was I who would not — out of fear, out of shame,

lest perhaps your own heart darken at the sight:

we are jealous-minded things, we tribes of men upon the earth."

Then Alcinous answered him in turn, and said:

"Stranger, the heart in my breast is not the kind

310to take fire for nothing. Due measure is better in all things.

If only — father Zeus, Athena, Apollo! —³²

being the man you are, and thinking as I think,

you would take my daughter and be called my son-in-law,

staying here: I would give you a house and possessions —

315if you stayed willingly. Against your will no Phaeacian

shall hold you: father Zeus forbid such a thing.

As for your sending, I appoint it — be sure of it —

for tomorrow. Till then you will lie mastered by sleep,

and they will row the calm, until you come

320to your fatherland and your house, and whatever place is dear to you,

though it be far, much farther than Euboea —³³

which those of our people say is farthest of all

who saw it, when they carried fair-haired Rhadamanthus

out to visit Tityus, the son of Earth.

325They went all the way there, and finished it without strain,

and on the same day accomplished the journey home again.

And you shall know for yourself, in your own heart, how far my ships

are the best — and my young men at throwing up the sea with the oar-blade."

So he spoke; and much-enduring noble Odysseus was glad,

330and he spoke in prayer, and said a word, and named:

"Father Zeus, may Alcinous accomplish all

he has said: on the grain-giving earth his fame

would be unquenchable — and I would come to my fatherland."

So the two of them spoke such things to one another,

335while white-armed Arete told her handmaids

to set out bedsteads under the porch, and to lay on them³⁴

beautiful purple blankets, and spread rugs above,

and fleecy cloaks on top of all, for cover.

Out of the hall they went with torches in their hands;

340and when they had briskly spread the close-corded bed,

they came and stood beside Odysseus and called him:

"Up, stranger, come and sleep: your bed is made."³⁵

So they spoke; and welcome it seemed to him to sleep.

So he slept there, much-enduring noble Odysseus,

345on a corded bedstead under the echoing porch;

but Alcinous lay down in the inner room of the high house,³⁶

where the lady his wife made ready his bed and his rest.