It may be necessary to say something concerning Helen , that fatal beauty that engag'd Greece and Asia in arms; she is drawn in the same colours in the Odyssey as in the Iliad ; it is a vicious character, but the colours are so admirably soften'd by the art of the Poet, that we pardon her infidelity.
Menelaus is an uncom mon instance of conjugal affection, he forgives a wife who had been false to him, and receives her into a full degree of favour. But perhaps the Reader might have been shock'd at it, and pre judiced against Helen as a person that ought to be forgot, or have her name only mention'd to disgrace it: The Poet there fore, to reconcile her to his Reader, brings her in as a penitent, condemning her own infidelity in very strong expressions; she shews true modesty, when she calls herself impudent, and by this conduct we are inclined, like Menelaus , to forgive her.
Adraste, Alcippe, Helen 's Maids. But Athenaeus , to reconcile this to probability, says, that women are curious and skilful ob servers of the likeness of children to parents, for one particu lar reason, that they may, upon finding any dissimilitude, have the pleasure of hinting at the Unchastity of others. For his abode a Capital prepar'd.
Here Menelaus laments a friend, Telemachus a father, Pisi stratus Page a brother: but from what cause arise the tears of Helen? It is to be remember'd that Helen is drawn in the softest colours in the Odyssey ; the character of the adultress is lost in that of the penitent; the name of Ulysses throws her into tears, because she is the occasion of all the sufferings of that brave man; the Poet makes her the first in sorrow, as she is the cause of all their tears.
Let not your roof with echoing grief resound, Now for the feast the friendly howl is crown'd. It may be ask'd why sorrow for the dead should be more unsea sonable in the evening than the morning? Eustathius answers, lest others should look upon our evening tears as the effect of wine, and not of love to the dead. Intempestiores venit inter pocula fletus. Nee lacrymas dulci fas est miscere falerno. I fancy there may be a more rational account given of this ex pression; The time of feasting was ever look'd upon as a time of joy, and thanksgiving to the Gods; it bore a religious venerati on among the Ancients, and consequently to shed tears when they should express their gratitude to the Gods with joy, was esteem'd a prophanation.
Some take Nepenthes allegorically, to signify History, Mu sic, or Philosophy. Plutarch in the first of the Symposiacs af firms it to be, discourse well suiting the present passions and con ditions Page of the hearers. What gave a foundation to this fiction of Homer , as Dacier observes, might be this. Diodorus writes that in Aegypt , and chiefly at Heliopolis , the same with Thebes where Menelaus sojourn'd, as has been already observ'd, there lived women who boasted of certain potions which not only made the unfortunate forget all their calamities, but drove away the most violent sallies of grief or anger.
Eusebius directly af firms, that even in his time the women of Diospolis were able to calm the rage of grief or anger by certain potions. Now whe ther this be truth or fiction, it fully vindicates Homer , since a Poet may make use of a prevailing, tho' false, opinion.
Milton mentions this Nepenthes in his excellent Masque of Comus. Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone In Aegypt gave to Jove -born Helena, Is of such pow'r as this to stir up joy, To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst.
But that there may be something more than fiction in this is very probable, since the Aegyptians were so notoriously skill'd in phy sick; and particularly since this very Thon , or Thonis , or Thoon , is reported by the ancients to have been the inventor of physic a mong the Aegyptians.
The description of this Nepenthes agrees admirably with what we know of the qualities and effects of Opium. It is further said of Thon , that he was King of Canopus , and entertain'd Menelaus hospitably before he had seen Helen ; but after wards falling in love with her, and offering violence, he was slain by Menelaus.
From his name the Aegyptians gave the name of Thoth to the first month of their year, and also to a city the name of Thonis. Aelian writes that Menelaus when he travell'd Page to the Aethiopians , committed Helen to the protection of Thonis ; that she fell in love with him, that Polydamna growing jealous confin'd her to the Island Pharos , but gave her an herb to pre serve her from the poison of serpents there frequent, which from Helen was call'd Helenium.
Strabo writes, that at Canopus on the mouth of Nile there stands a city named Thonies , from King Thonis , who receiv'd Helen and Menelaus. Herodotus relates, that Thonis was Governor of Canopus , that he represented the injury which Paris had done to Menelaus , to Proteus who reign'd in Mem phis. This last remark from Herodotus is sufficient to shew, that Ho mer is not so fictitious as is generally imagined, that there really was a King named Proteus , that the Poet builds his fables upon truth, and that it was truth that originally determin'd Homer to intro duce Proteus into his Poetry; but I intend to explain this more largely in the story of Proteus.
My self— Will tell Ulysses' bold exploit— ] What is here related shews the necessity of the introduction of He len , and the use the Poet makes of it: she is not brought in merely as a muta Persona , to fill up the number of persons; but she re lates several incidents, in which she her self was concern'd, and which she could only know; and consequently not only diversisies, but carries on the design of the story.
This fur ther Page shews the necessity of the appearance of Helen , no other per son being acquainted with the story. If this stratagem be not a reality, yet it bears the resemblance of it; and Megabysus the Persian as Eustathius observes practis'd it, as we learn from history. We may reasonably conjecture that Ulysses was commit ted to Helen , in hopes that he would discover the affairs of the army more freely to her than any other person: for what could be more agreeable to a Greek , than to be committed to the care of a Greek , as Ulysses was to Helen?
By the same conduct the Poet raises the character of Helen , by making her shew her re pentance by an act of generosity to her countryman. The origi nal says she gave an oath to Ulysses not to discover him before he was in Safety in the Grecian army: Now this does not imply that she ever discover'd to the Trojans that Ulysses had enter'd Troy: the contrary opinion is most probable; for it cannot be imagin'd but all Troy must have been incens'd greatly against her, had they known that she had conceal'd one of their mor tal enemies, and dismiss'd him in safety: It was sufficient for U lysses to take her oath that she would not discover him, 'till he was in security: he left her future conduct to her own discretion.
It is probable that she furnish'd Ulysses with a sword, for in his re turn he slew many Trojans: He came to Troy , observes Eustathius , in rags, and like a slave; and to have conceal'd a sword, would have endanger'd his life upon a discovery of it, and given strong suspicions of an impostor.
Exploring then the secrets of the state. Instead of naming Troy , she conceals it, and only says she was carry'd thither, leaving Troy to the imagination of Menelaus ; she suffers not herself to menti on names so odious now to herself, and ever to Menelaus , as Pa ris and Troy. She compliments Menelaus very handsomely, and says, that he wanted no accomplishment either in mind or body: It being the nature of man not to resent the injuries of a wife so much upon the account of her being corrupted, but of the preference she gives to another person; he looks upon such a pre ference as the most affecting part of the injury.
Menelaus 's answer. Ulysses is the chief Heroe of the Poem, every thing should have a reference to him, otherwise the narra tion stands still without any advance towards the conclusion of it. The Poet therefore to keep Ulysses in our minds, dwells upon his sufferings and adventures: he supplies his not appearing in the present scene of Action, by setting his character before us, and continually forcing his prudence, patience, and valour upon our observation.
He uses the same art and judgment with relation to Achilles in the Iliads : The Heroe of the Poem is absent from the chief scenes of action during much of the time which that Poem comprises, but he is continually brought into the mind of the Reader, by recounting his exploits and glory.
Some Daemon anxious for the Trojan doom. It is the Daemon, not Helen , that is in fault; this, continues Eustathius , answers many objections that lye against Helen ; for if she was a real penitent, as she her self affirms, how comes she to endeavour to deceive the Greeks , by the disguise of her voice, into more mi sery than had yet arisen from a ten years war?
Or indeed is it credible that any person could modulate her voice so artfully as to resemble so many voices? And how could the Greeks enclosed in the wooden horse believe that their wives who were in Greece , could be arriv'd in so short a space as they had been conceal'd there, from the various regions of Greece , and meet together in Troy?
Would the wives of these Heroes come into an enemy's country, when the whole army, except these latent Heroes, were retir'd from it? I must confess there is great weight in these objections: But Eustathius answers all by the interposition of the Daemon; and by an idle tradition that Helen had the name of Echo , from the faculty of mimicking sounds; and that this gift was bestow'd upon her by Venus when she married Menelaus , that she might be able to detect him if he should prove false to her bed, by imitating the voice of the suspected person: but Menelaus had more occasion for this faculty than Helen.
As for the excuse of the Daemon, it equally excuses all crimes: For instance, was Helen false to Menelaus? The Daemon occasion'd it: Does she act an imposture to destroy all her Grecian friends, and even Menelaus? The Daemon compells her to it: The Daemon compells her to go with Deiphobus , to surround the horse thrice, to sound the Page sides of it, to endeavour to surprize the latent Greeks by an imi tion of the voices of their wives, and in short, to act like a per son that was very sincere in mischief.
Dacier takes another course, and gives up Helen , but remarks the great address of Menelaus. Helen had, said she, long de sired nothing so much as to return to Lacedaemon ; and her heart had long been wholly turn'd to Menelaus: Menelaus is not at all convinc'd of this pretended sincerity; but it would have been too gross, after he had taken her again to his bed, to con vict her of falshood: He therefore contents himself barely to re ply that some Daemon, an enemy to the Greeks , had forc'd her to a conduct disagreeable to her sincerity.
This continues Dacier is an artful, but severe Irony. As for the objection concerning the impossibility of the Greeks believing their wives could be in Troy ; she answers, that the Au thors of this objection have not sufficiently consider'd human na ture.
The voice of a belov'd person might of a sudden, and by surprize, draw from any person a word involuntary, before he has time to make reflection. This undoubtedly is true, where cir cumstances make an imposture probable; but here is an impossi bility; it is utterly impossible to believe the wives of these He roes could be in Troy.
Besides, Menelaus himself tells us, that even he had fallen into the snare, but Ulysses prevented it; this adds to the incredibility of the story, for if this faculty of mi mickry was given upon his marriage with Helen , it was nothing new to him, he must be suppos'd to be acquainted with it, and consequently be the less liable to surprize: Nay it is not impos sible, but the experiment might have been made upon him be fore Helen fled away with Paris.
In short, I think this passage wants a further vindication: the circumstances are low, if not incredible. Virgil , the great imitator of Homer , has given us a very different and more noble descri ption of the destruction of Troy: he has not thought fit to imi tate him in this description.
Page If we allow Helen to act by compulsion, to have fear'd the Trojans , and that Deiphobus was sent as a spy upon her actions; yet this is no vindication of her conduct: she still acts a mean part, and thro' fear becomes an accomplice in endeavouring to betray and ruin the Greeks. I shall just add, that after the death of Paris , Helen married Deiphobus ; that the story of the wooden horse is probably foun ded upon the taking of Troy by an engine call'd a Horse, as the like engine was call'd a Ram by the Romans.
The comparison which he introduces is very just, they are the Fawns, Ulysses is the Lion. This is the first Simile that Homer has inserted in the Odyssey ; but I cannot think it proceeded from a barrenness of invention, or thro'phlegm in the declension of his years, as some have imagin'd.
The nature of the Poem requires a difference of stile from the Iliad: The Iliad rushes along like a torrent; the Odyssey flows; gently on like a deep stream, with a smooth tranquility: Achilles is all fire, Ulysses all wisdom. The Simile in Homer is really beautiful; but in Hobbs ridi culous. As when a stag and hind ent'ring the den Of th' absent Lion, lulls his whelps with tales, Of hills and dales; the Lion comes agen, And tears them into pieces with his nails.
Can any thing be more foreign to the sense of Homer , or worse translated? As when contending on the Lesbian shore. Philome lides was King of Lesbos , and Eustathius observes, that there was a tradition that Ulysses and Diomedes slew him, and turn'd a state ly monument he had rais'd for himself into a public place for the reception of strangers.
Insula Pharos, ubi Protea cum Phocarum gre gibus diversatum Homerus fabulatur inflatius, a civitatis littore mille passibus disparata , or, about a mile distant from the shores. How then comes Homer to affirm it to be distant a full day's sail? Da cier answers, that Homer might have heard that the Nile , continu ally bringing down much earthy substance, had enlarg'd the con tinent: and knowing it not to be so distant in his time, took the liberty of a Poet, and describ'd it as still more distant in the days of Menelaus.
But Dacier never sees a mistake in Homer. Had his Poetry been worse if he had describ'd the real distance of Pha ros? It is allowable in a Poet to disguise the truth, to adorn his story; but what ornament has he given his Poetry by this enlarge ment? Bochart has fully prov'd that there is no accession to the Continent from any substance that the Nile brings down with it: Page the violent agitation of the seas prohibit it from lodging, and forming it self into solidity.
Eratosthenes is of opinion, that Ho mer was ignorant of the mouths of Nile : but Strabo answers, that his silence about them is not an argument of his ignorance, for neither has he ever mention'd where he was born. But Strabo does not enter fully into the meaning of Eratosthenes : Eratost henes does not mean that Homer was ignorant of the mouths of Nile from his silence, but because he places Pharos at the distance of a whole day's sail from the Continent. The only way to u nite this inconsistence is to suppose, that the Poet intended to spe cify the Pelusiac mouth of Nile , from which Pharos stands about a day's sail: but this is submitted to the Critics.
I can't tell whether one should venture to make use of the word Nile in the translation, it is doubtless an Anachronism; that name being unknown in the times of Homer and Menelaus , when the Nile was call'd Aegyptus. Witness all the names of the Gods and Goddesses throughout Homer. Bait the barb'd steel, and from the fishy flood.
Plutarch in his Symposiacs ob serves, that among the Aegyptians , Syrians , and Greeks , to abstain from fish was esteem'd a piece of sanctity; that tho' the Greeks were encamp'd upon the Hellespont , there is not the least intima tion Page that they eat fish, or any sea-provision; and that the com panions of Ulysses , in the 12th book of the Odyssey , never fought for fish till all their other provisions were consum'd, and that the same necessity compell'd them to eat the herds of the Sun which induced them to taste fish.
No fish is ever offer'd in sacri fice: The Pythagoreans in particular command fish not to be eaten more strictly than any other animal: Fish afford no excuse at all for their destruction, they live as it were in another world, disturb not our air, consume not our fruits, or injure the wa ters; and therefore the Pythagoreans , who were unwilling to offer violence to any animals, fed very little, or not at all on fishes.
I thought it necessary to insert this from Plutarch , because it is an observation that explains other passages in the sequel of the Odyssey. Proteus , a name tremendous o'er the main. Others took Proteus to be an enchanter; and Eustathius recounts several that were eminent in this art, as Cratisthenes the Phliasian , which Da cier renders by mistake Callisthenes the Physician who when he pleased could appear all on fire, and assume other appearances to the astonishment of the spectators: such also was Xenophon , Scymnus Page of Tarentum , Philippides of Syracuse , Heraclitus of Mitylene , and Nymphodorus , all practisers of magical arts; and Eusta thius recites that the Phocae were made use of in their Incan tations.
And shouting seize the God. The only answer that occurs to me is, that these enchanters never Page pretend to have an inherent fore-knowledge of events, but learn things by magical arts, and by recourse to the secrets of their profession; so that Proteus having no suspicion, had not consulted his art, and consequently might be surprized by Mene laus: So far is agreeable to the pretensions of such deluders: The Poet indeed has drawn him in colours stronger than life; but Poetry adds or detracts at pleasure, and is allow'd frequently to step out of the way, to bring a foreign ornament into the story.
Menelaus cannot succeed in any of his actions, till he pays due honours to the Gods; the neglect of sacrifice is the occasion of all his cala mity, and the performance of it opens a way to all his future prosperity.
And to th' abyss the boaster bore. I know only one reason that can give any colour to the objection, viz. What was poetical in the time of the Poet might be grown vulgar in the time of the Critics. Or in eternal shade if cold he lyes. Perhaps the sorrow which Menelaus conceived for his friend Ulysses , might make him fear the worst; and Proteus adding enclos'd by the ocean might give a suspicion that he was dead, the words being capable of ambiguity. However this be, it sets the friendship of Menelaus in a strong light: where friend ship is sincere, a state of uncertainty is a state of fears, we dread even possibilities, and give them an imaginary certainty.
Upon this, one of the finest compliments that a Poet ever made to a patron turns, that of Horace to Mecaenas , in the first of the Epodes. It may not perhaps be disagreeable to the Reader to observe, that Virgil has borrow'd this story of Proteus from Homer , and translated it almost literally.
Rapine says, that Homer 's descripti on is more ingenious and fuller of invention, but Virgil 's more judicious. I wish that Critic had given his reasons for his opi nion.
I believe in general, the plan of the Iliad and Odyssey is allow'd by the best of Critics to be more perfect than that of the Aeneis. Homer with respect to the unity of time, has the advan tage very manifestly; Rapine confesses it, and Aristotle proposes him as an example to all Epic Authors.
Where then is the su periority of judgment? Is it that there are more fabulous, I mean incredible, stories in Homer than Virgil? Virgil has imitated most of these bold fables, and the story of the ships of Alcinous is not more incre dible than the transformation of the ships of Aeneas. But this is too large a subject to be discuss'd in the compass of these Annotati ons. Virgil is little more than a translator; to shew the particulars would be too tedious: I refer it to the Reader to compare the two Authors, and shall only instance in one passage.
Cum clamore ruit magno, manicisque jacentem Occupat: ille suae contra non immemor artis, Omnia transformat sese in miracula rerum, Ignemque, horribilemque feram, fluviumque liquentem. Homer has a manifest advantage in the occasion of the story: The loss of a few bees seems to be a cause too trivial for an un dertaking so great as the surprize of a Deity; whereas the whole happiness of Menelaus depends upon this consultation of Proteus: This is a far more important cause, and consequently in this re spect something more is due to Homer , than the sole honour of an inventor.
The conjectures of the Ancients are very various about it: Plato in his Phaed. Strabo , says Eustathius , places it not far from Maurusia , that lies near the Streights: It is suppos'd by Bochart , as Dacier ob serves, that the fable is of Phaenician extraction, that Alizuth in Hebrew signifies joy or exultation , which word the Greeks adapt ing to their way of pronunciation, call'd Elysius.
If this be true, I should come into an opinion that has much prevail'd, that the Greeks had heard of Paradise from the Hebrews ; and that the Page Hebrews describing Paradise as a place of Alizuth , or joy , gave occasion to all the fables of the Grecian Elysium. Three sprightly coursers. This was a compleat set among the Ancients, they used one Pole-horse and two leaders. That gift our barren rocks will render vain. Horace has introduced it into his Epistles.
Haud male Telemachus proles patientis Ulyssei; Non est aptus equis Ithacae locus, ut neque planis Porrectus spatiis, nec multae prodigus herbae: Atride, magis apta tibi tua dona relinquam. This is the reason why Ulysses as Eustathius observes upon the 10th of the Iliads leaves the horses of Rhesus to the disposal of Diomedes ; so that the same spirit of Wisdom reign'd in Telema chus , that was so remarkable in Ulysses.
This is the reason why Menelaus smil'd; it was not at the frankness or simplicity of Telemachus , but it was a smile of joy, to see the young Prince inherit his father's wisdom. It is the remark of Eustathius , that Telemachus is far from ex alting the nature of his country; he confesses it to be barren, and more barren than the neighbouring Islands; yet that natural and laudable affection which all worthy persons have for their country makes him prefer it to places of a more happy situati on.
It is the more probable from the offer of horses which Menelaus had then made, and is also another reason for the smile of Menelaus. Eustathius remarks that Menelaus , tho' he has expressed the greatest friendship for Ulysses , yet makes no offer to restore the fortunes of his friend by any military assistance; tho' he had a most fair opportunity given him to repay the past kindness of Ulysses to his wife Penelope , and his son Telemachus ; and how comes Telemachus not to ask it either of Nestor or Menelaus?
He an swers, that this depended upon the uncertainty they were yet under, concerning the life of Ulysses. But the truer reason in my opinion is, that the nature of Epic Poetry requires a contrary conduct: The Heroe of the Poem is to be the chief agent, and the re-establishment of his fortunes must be owing to his own wisdom and valour.
I have enlarg'd upon this already, so that there is no occasion in this place to insist upon it. Eu stathius remarks that these incidents not only diversify but enli ven the Poem. But it may be ask'd why the Poet makes not use of so fair an opportunity to insert a gallant action of Telemachus , and draw him not as eluding, but defeating his adversaries?
The answer is easy; That the Suitors sail'd compleatly arm'd, and Tele machus unprovided of any weapons: and therefore Homer consults credibility, and forbears to paint his young Heroe in the colours of a Knight in Romance, who upon all disadvantages engages and defeats his opposers.
But then to what purpose is this ambush of the Suitors, and what part of the design of the Poem is car ry'd on by it? The very chief aim of it; To shew the sufferings of Ulysses: He is unfortunate in all relations of life, as a King, Page as an husband, and here very eminently as a father; these sufferings are laid down in the proposition of the Odyssey as essential to the Poem, and consequently this ambush laid by the Suitors against the life of Telemachus is an essential ornament.
The speech of Penelope. There is some obscurity in the Greek , this ari ses from the warmth with which she speaks, she has not leisure to explain her self fully, a circumstance natural to a person in anger. Penelope gives a very beautiful picture of Ulysses: "The best of Princes are allow'd to have their favourites, and give a greater share of affection than ordinary to particular persons.
But Ulysses was a father to all his people alike, and loved them all as his children; a father, tho' he bears a more tender affection to one child than to another, yet shews them all an equal treatment; thus also a good King is not sway'd by inclination, but justice, towards all his subjects. One circumstance is very remarkable, and gives us a full view of a person in anger; at the very sight of Medon Penelope flies out into passion, she gives him not time to speak one sylla ble, but speaks her self as if all the Suitors were present, and re proaches them in the person of Medon , tho' Medon is just to her and Ulysses ; but anger is an undistinguishing passion.
What she says of ingratitude, recalls to my memory what is to be found in Laertius : Aristotle being ask'd what thing upon earth soonest grew old? Ride the wild waves —] Were this passage to be render'd literally, it would run thus; climb the swift ships, which are horses to men on the seas. Eustathius observes the allu sion is very just, and that the only doubt is, whether it be brought in opportunely by Penelope?
Dacier answers, that Penelope speaks thus thro' indignation: The grief that she conceives at the hardiness of men, in finding out a way to pass the seas as well as land, furnished her with these figures very na turally, for figures are agreeable to passion. And Isles remote enlarge his old domain.
But I question not that the whole dominions of Ulysses are included, Ithaca as well as Cephalenia ; for tho' Ithaca was moun tainous, yet the vallies were fruitful, according to the description of it in the 13th of the Odyssey.
The Suitors heard, and deem'd the mirthful voice, A signal of her hymenaeal choice. Pe nelope is describ'd as weeping grievously, and fainting away, and yet immediately the Suitors conclude she is preparing for the Nuptials. Eustathius answers, that undoubtedly the Suitors un derstood the Queen had purify'd her self with water, and supplicated the Goddess Minerva , tho' the Poet omits the rela tion of such little particularities.
But whence is it that the Po et gives a greater share of wisdom to Euryclea than to Penelope? Penelope commands a servant to fly with the news of the absence of Telemachus to Laertes , which could not at all advantage Tele machus , and only grieve Laertes: Euryclea immediately diverts her from that vain intention, advises her to have recourse to heaven, and not add misery to the already miserable Laertes: This is Wisdom in Euryclea.
But it must be confess'd that the other is Nature in Penelope: Euryclea is calm, Penelope in a passion: and Homer would have been a very bad painter of human Nature, if he had drawn Penelope thus heated with passion in the mild temper of Euryclea ; grief and resentment give Penelope no time to deli berate, whereas Euryclea is less concern'd, and consequently capa ble of thinking with more tranquillity. With rebuke severe Antinous cry'd. Take their horses out, of course, and show the strangers in that they may have supper; you and I have staid often enough at other people's houses before we got back here, where heaven grant that we may rest in peace henceforward.
So Eteoneus bustled back and bade the other servants come with him. They took their sweating steeds from under the yoke, made them fast to the mangers, and gave them a feed of oats and barley mixed. Then they leaned the chariot against the end wall of the courtyard, and led the way into the house.
Telemachus and Pisistratus were astonished when they saw it, for its splendour was as that of the sun and moon; then, when they had admired everything to their heart's content, they went into the bath room and washed themselves.
When the servants had washed them and anointed them with oil, they brought them woollen cloaks and shirts, and the two took their seats by the side of Menelaus. A maid-servant brought them water in a beautiful golden ewer, and poured it into a silver basin for them to wash their hands; and she drew a clean table beside them. Do not soften things out of any pity for myself, but tell me in all plainness exactly what you saw. If my brave father Ulysses ever did you loyal service either by word or deed, when you Achaeans were harassed by the Trojans, bear it in mind now as in my favour and tell me truly all.
Menelaus on hearing this was very much shocked. A hind might as well lay her new born young in the lair of a lion, and then go off to feed in the forest or in some grassy dell: the lion when he comes back to his lair will make short work with the pair of them—and so will Ulysses with these suitors.
By father Jove, Minerva, and Apollo, if Ulysses is still the man that he was when he wrestled with Philomeleides in Lesbos, and threw him so heavily that all the Achaeans cheered him—if he is still such and were to come near these suitors, they would have a short shrift and a sorry wedding. As regards your questions, however, I will not prevaricate nor deceive you, but will tell you without concealment all that the old man of the sea told me.
Now off Egypt, about as far as a ship can sail in a day with a good stiff breeze behind her, there is an island called Pharos—it has a good harbour from which vessels can get out into open sea when they have taken in water—and here the gods becalmed me twenty days without so much as a breath of fair wind to help me forward. We should have run clean out of provisions and my men would have starved, if a goddess had not taken pity upon me and saved me in the person of Idothea, daughter to Proteus, the old man of the sea, for she had taken a great fancy to me.
Tell me, therefore, for the gods know everything, which of the immortals it is that is hindering me in this way, and tell me also how I may sail the sea so as to reach my home. There is an old immortal who lives under the sea hereabouts and whose name is Proteus. He is an Egyptian, and people say he is my father; he is Neptune's head man and knows every inch of ground all over the bottom of the sea.
If you can snare him and hold him tight, he will tell you about your voyage, what courses you are to take, and how you are to sail the sea so as to reach your home.
He will also tell you, if you so will, all that has been going on at your house both good and bad, while you have been away on your long and dangerous journey. For a god is not easily caught—not by a mortal man. About the time when the sun shall have reached mid heaven, the old man of the sea comes up from under the waves, heralded by the West wind that furs the water over his head. As soon as he has come up he lies down, and goes to sleep in a great sea cave, where the seals—Halosydne's chickens as they call them—come up also from the grey sea, and go to sleep in shoals all round him; and a very strong and fish-like smell do they bring with them.
Early to-morrow morning I will take you to this place and will lay you in ambush. Pick out, therefore, the three best men you have in your fleet, and I will tell you all the tricks that the old man will play you.
The moment you see that he is asleep seize him; put forth all your strength and hold him fast, for he will do his very utmost to get away from you. He will turn himself into every kind of creature that goes upon the earth, and will become also both fire and water; but you must hold him fast and grip him tighter and tighter, till he begins to talk to you and comes back to what he was when you saw him go to sleep; then you may slacken your hold and let him go; and you can ask him which of the gods it is that is angry with you, and what you must do to reach your home over the seas.
When I reached my ship we got supper ready, for night was falling, and camped down upon the beach. Meanwhile the goddess fetched me up four seal skins from the bottom of the sea, all of them just skinned, for she meant playing a trick upon her father. Then she dug four pits for us to lie in, and sat down to wait till we should come up.
When we were close to her, she made us lie down in the pits one after the other, and threw a seal skin over each of us. Our ambuscade would have been intolerable, for the stench of the fishy seals was most distressing —who would go to bed with a sea monster if he could help it?
We were among the first he counted, and he never suspected any guile, but laid himself down to sleep as soon as he had done counting. Then we rushed upon him with a shout and seized him; on which he began at once with his old tricks, and changed himself first into a lion with a great mane; then all of a sudden he became a dragon, a leopard, a wild boar; the next moment he was running water, and then again directly he was a tree, but we stuck to him and never lost hold, till at last the cunning old creature became distressed, and said, 'Which of the gods was it, Son of Atreus, that hatched this plot with you for snaring me and seizing me against my will?
What do you want? It is because I have been kept so long in this island, and see no sign of my being able to get away. I am losing all heart; tell me, then, for you gods know everything, which of the immortals it is that is hindering me, and tell me also how I may sail the sea so as to reach my home?
When you have done this they will let you finish your voyage. You had better not know what I can tell you, for your eyes will surely fill when you have heard my story. Many of those about whom you ask are dead and gone, but many still remain, and only two of the chief men among the Achaeans perished during their return home.
As for what happened on the field of battle—you were there yourself. A third Achaean leader is still at sea, alive, but hindered from returning. Ajax was wrecked, for Neptune drove him on to the great rocks of Gyrae; nevertheless, he let him get safe out of the water, and in spite of all Minerva's hatred he would have escaped death, if he had not ruined himself by boasting.
He said the gods could not drown him even though they had tried to do so, and when Neptune heard this large talk, he seized his trident in his two brawny hands, and split the rock of Gyrae in two pieces. The base remained where it was, but the part on which Ajax was sitting fell headlong into the sea and carried Ajax with it; so he drank salt water and was drowned.
By and by, however, it seemed as though he was to return safely after all, for the gods backed the wind into its old quarter and they reached home; whereon Agamemnon kissed his native soil, and shed tears of joy at finding himself in his own country. This man had been looking out for a whole year to make sure that Agamemnon did not give him the slip and prepare war; when, therefore, this man saw Agamemnon go by, he went and told Aegisthus, who at once began to lay a plot for him.
He picked twenty of his bravest warriors and placed them in ambuscade on one side the cloister, while on the opposite side he prepared a banquet. Then he sent his chariots and horsemen to Agamemnon, and invited him to the feast, but he meant foul play. He got him there, all unsuspicious of the doom that was awaiting him, and killed him when the banquet was over as though he were butchering an ox in the shambles; not one of Agamemnon's followers was left alive, nor yet one of Aegisthus', but they were all killed there in the cloisters.
I sat down upon the sands and wept; I felt as though I could no longer bear to live nor look upon the light of the sun. Presently, when I had had my fill of weeping and writhing upon the ground, the old man of the sea said, 'Son of Atreus, do not waste any more time in crying so bitterly; it can do no manner of good; find your way home as fast as ever you can, for Aegisthus may be still alive, and even though Orestes has been beforehand with you in killing him, you may yet come in for his funeral.
Tell me, no matter how much it may grieve me. I can see him in an island sorrowing bitterly in the house of the nymph Calypso, who is keeping him prisoner, and he cannot reach his home for he has no ships nor sailors to take him over the sea. As for your own end, Menelaus, you shall not die in Argos, but the gods will take you to the Elysian plain, which is at the ends of the world. There fair-haired Rhadamanthus reigns, and men lead an easier life than any where else in the world, for in Elysium there falls not rain, nor hail, nor snow, but Oceanus breathes ever with a West wind that sings softly from the sea, and gives fresh life to all men.
This will happen to you because you have married Helen, and are Jove's son-in-law. When we reached the ships we got supper ready, for night was falling, and camped down upon the beach. When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, we drew our ships into the water, and put our masts and sails within them; then we went on board ourselves, took our seats on the benches, and smote the grey sea with our oars.
I again stationed my ships in the heaven-fed stream of Egypt, and offered hecatombs that were full and sufficient. When I had thus appeased heaven's anger, I raised a barrow to the memory of Agamemnon that his name might live for ever, after which I had a quick passage home, for the gods sent me a fair wind. I will make you a noble present of a chariot and three horses. I will also give you a beautiful chalice that so long as you live you may think of me whenever you make a drink-offering to the immortal gods.
As for any present you may be disposed to make me, I had rather that it should be a piece of plate. I will take no horses back with me to Ithaca, but will leave them to adorn your own stables, for you have much flat ground in your kingdom where lotus thrives, as also meadow-sweet and wheat and barley, and oats with their white and spreading ears; whereas in Ithaca we have neither open fields nor racecourses, and the country is more fit for goats than horses, and I like it the better for that.
None of our islands have much level ground, suitable for horses, and Ithaca least of all. Menelaus smiled and took Telemachus's hand within his own. I both can, and will, make this exchange for you, by giving you the finest and most precious piece of plate in all my house.
It is a mixing bowl by Vulcan's own hand, of pure silver, except the rim, which is inlaid with gold. Phaedimus, king of the Sidonians, gave it me in the course of a visit which I paid him when I returned thither on my homeward journey.
I will make you a present of it. Thus did they converse [and guests kept coming to the king's house. They brought sheep and wine, while their wives had put up bread for them to take with them; so they were busy cooking their dinners in the courts]. Meanwhile the suitors were throwing discs or aiming with spears at a mark on the levelled ground in front of Ulysses' house, and were behaving with all their old insolence. Antinous and Eurymachus, who were their ringleaders and much the foremost among them all, were sitting together when Noemon son of Phronius came up and said to Antinous,.
He has a ship of mine, and I want it, to cross over to Elis: I have twelve brood mares there with yearling mule foals by their side not yet broken in, and I want to bring one of them over here and break him.
They were astounded when they heard this, for they had made sure that Telemachus had not gone to the city of Neleus. They thought he was only away somewhere on the farms, and was with the sheep, or with the swineherd; so Antinous said, "When did he go? Tell me truly, and what young men did he take with him? Were they freemen or his own bondsmen—for he might manage that too? Tell me also, did you let him have the ship of your own free will because he asked you, or did he take it without your leave?
I could not possibly refuse. As for those who went with him they were the best young men we have, and I saw Mentor go on board as captain—or some god who was exactly like him. I cannot understand it, for I saw Mentor here myself yesterday morning, and yet he was then setting out for Pylos. Noemon then went back to his father's house, but Antinous and Eurymachus were very angry. They told the others to leave off playing, and to come and sit down along with themselves.
When they came, Antinous son of Eupeithes spoke in anger. His heart was black with rage, and his eyes flashed fire as he said:. He will be giving us trouble presently; may Jove take him before he is full grown.
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