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Such were the ample blessings on the house
Of King Alcinous by the Gods bestow'd.
Ulysses wond'ring stood, and when, at length,
Silent he had the whole fair scene admired,
With rapid step enter'd the royal gate.
The Chiefs he found and Senators within
Libation pouring to the vigilant spy
Mercurius, whom with wine they worshipp'd last 170
Of all the Gods, and at the hour of rest.
Ulysses, toil-worn Hero, through the house
Pass'd undelaying, by Minerva thick
With darkness circumfus'd, till he arrived
Where King Alcinous and Areta sat.
Around Areta's knees his arms he cast,
And, in that moment, broken clear away
The cloud all went, shed on him from above.
Dumb sat the guests, seeing the unknown Chief,
And wond'ring gazed. He thus his suit preferr'd. 180
Areta, daughter of the Godlike Prince
Rhexenor! suppliant at thy knees I fall,
Thy royal spouse imploring, and thyself,
(After ten thousand toils) and these your guests,
To whom heav'n grant felicity, and to leave
Their treasures to their babes, with all the rights
And honours, by the people's suffrage, theirs!
But oh vouchsafe me, who have wanted long
And ardent wish'd my home, without delay
Safe conduct to my native shores again! 190
Such suit he made, and in the ashes sat
At the hearth-side; they mute long time remain'd,
Till, at the last, the antient Hero spake
Echeneus, eldest of Phaeacia's sons,
With eloquence beyond the rest endow'd,
Rich in traditionary lore, and wise
In all, who thus, benevolent, began.
Not honourable to thyself, O King!
Is such a sight, a stranger on the ground
At the hearth-side seated, and in the dust. 200
Meantime, thy guests, expecting thy command,
Move not; thou therefore raising by his hand
The stranger, lead him to a throne, and bid
The heralds mingle wine, that we may pour
To thunder-bearing Jove, the suppliant's friend.
Then let the cat'ress for thy guest produce
Supply, a supper from the last regale.
Soon as those words Alcinous heard, the King,
Upraising by his hand the prudent Chief
Ulysses from the hearth, he made him sit, 210
On a bright throne, displacing for his sake
Laodamas his son, the virtuous youth
Who sat beside him, and whom most he lov'd.
And now, a maiden charg'd with golden ew'r
And with an argent laver, pouring, first,
Pure water on his hands, supply'd him, next,
With a resplendent table, which the chaste
Directress of the stores furnish'd with bread
And dainties, remnants of the last regale.
Then ate the Hero toil-inured, and drank, 220
And to his herald thus Alcinous spake.
Pontonous! mingling wine, bear it around
To ev'ry guest in turn, that we may pour
To thunder-bearer Jove, the stranger's friend,
And guardian of the suppliant's sacred rights.
He said; Pontonous, as he bade, the wine
Mingled delicious, and the cups dispensed
With distribution regular to all.
When each had made libation, and had drunk
Sufficient, then, Alcinous thus began. 230
Phaeacian Chiefs and Senators, I speak
The dictates of my mind, therefore attend!
Ye all have feasted--To your homes and sleep.
We will assemble at the dawn of day
More senior Chiefs, that we may entertain
The stranger here, and to the Gods perform
Due sacrifice; the convoy that he asks
Shall next engage our thoughts, that free from pain
And from vexation, by our friendly aid
He may revisit, joyful and with speed, 240
His native shore, however far remote.
No inconvenience let him feel or harm,
Ere his arrival; but, arrived, thenceforth
He must endure whatever lot the Fates
Spun for him in the moment of his birth.
But should he prove some Deity from heav'n
Descended, then the Immortals have in view
Designs not yet apparent; for the Gods
Have ever from of old reveal'd themselves
At our solemnities, have on our seats 250
Sat with us evident, and shared the feast;
And even if a single traveller
Of the Phaeacians meet them, all reserve
They lay aside; for with the Gods we boast
As near affinity as do themselves
The Cyclops, or the Giant race profane. [26]
To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.
Alcinous! think not so. Resemblance none
In figure or in lineaments I bear
To the immortal tenants of the skies, 260
But to the sons of earth; if ye have known
A man afflicted with a weight of woe
Peculiar, let me be with him compared;
Woes even passing his could I relate,
And all inflicted on me by the Gods.