I
I
I sue not for my lone, my widowed wife ;
I sue not for my ruddy drops of life,
My children fair, my lovely girls and boys !
I
I sue not for my lone, my widowed wife ;
I sue not for my ruddy drops of life,
My children fair, my lovely girls and boys !
Universal Anthology - v02
" " And Odysseus of many counsels answered her, saying :
Nau sicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinous, yea, may Zeus, the thunderer, the lord of Here, grant me to reach my home and see the day of my returning ; so would I, even there, do thee worship as to a god, all my days for evermore, for thou, lady,
hast given me my life. "
He spake and sat him in the high seat by king Alcinous.
And now they were serving out the portions and mixing the wine. Then the henchman drew nigh leading the sweet min strel, Demodocus, that was had in honor of the people. So he set him in the midst of the feasters, and made him lean against a tall column. Then to the henchman spake Odysseus of many counsels, for he had cut off a portion of the chine of a white- toothed boar, whereon yet more was left, with rich fat on either side": —
Lo, henchman, take this mess, and hand it to Demodocus, that he may eat, and I will bid him hail, despite my sorrow. For minstrels of all men on earth get their meed of honor and worship ; inasmuch as the muse teacheth them the paths of song, and loveth the tribe of minstrels. "
XI.
So spake he, and dead silence fell on all, and they were spell bound throughout the shadowy halls. Thereupon Alcinous answered him, and spake, saying : —
" Odysseus, now that thou hast come to my high house with floor of bronze, never, methinks, shalt thou be driven from thy way ere thou returnest, though thou hast been sore afflicted. And for each man among you, that in these halls of mine drink
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evermore the dark wine of the elders, and hearken to the min strel, this is my word and command. Garments for the stranger are already laid up in a polished coffer, with gold curiously wrought, and all other such gifts as the counselors of the Phseacians bare hither. Come now, let us each of us give him a great tripod and a caldron, and we in turn will gather goods among the people and get us recompense ; for it were hard that one man should give without return. "
So spake Alcinous, and the saying pleased them well. Then they went each one to his house to lay him down to rest ; but so soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, they hasted to the ship and bare the bronze, the joy of men. And the mighty king Alcinous himself went about the ship and diligently be stowed the gifts beneath the benches, that they might not hinder any of the crew in their rowing, when they labored at their oars. Then they betook them to the house of Alcinous and fell to feasting. And the mighty king Alcinous sacrificed before them an ox to Zeus, the son of Cronos, that dwells in the dark clouds, who is lord of all. And when they had burnt the pieces of the thighs, they shared the glorious feast and made merry, and among them harped the divine minstrel De- modocus, whom the people honored. But Odysseus would ever turn his head toward the splendor of the sun, being fain to hasten his setting : for verily he was most eager to return. And as when a man longs for his supper, for whom all day long two dark oxen drag through the fallow field the jointed plow, yea and welcome to such an one the sunlight sinketh, that so he may get him to supper, for his knees wax faint by the way, even so welcome was the sinking of the sunlight to Odysseus. Then straight he spake among the Phseacians, masters of the oar, and to Alcinous in chief he made known his word, saying : —
" My lord Alcinous, most notable of all the people, pour ye the drink offering, and send me safe upon my way, and as for you, fare ye well. For now have I all that my heart desired, an escort and loving gifts. May the gods of heaven give me good fortune with them, and may I find my noble wife in my home with my friends unharmed, while ye, for your part, abide here and make glad your gentle wives and children ; and may the gods vouchsafe all manner of good, and may no evil come nigh the people ! "
So spake he, and they all consented thereto and bade send the stranger on his way, in that he had spoken aright. Then
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the mighty king Alcinous spake to the henchman : " Pontonous, mix the bowl and serve out the wine to all in the hall, that we may pray to Father Zeus, and send the stranger on his way to his own country. "
So spake he, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine, and served it to all in turn. And they poured forth before the blessed gods that keep wide heaven, even there as they sat. Then goodly Odysseus uprose, and placed in Arete's hand the double cup, and uttering his voice spake to her winged words : —
" Fare thee well, O queen, all the days of thy life, till old age come and death, that visit all mankind. But I go home ward, and do thou in this thy house rejoice in thy children and thy people and Alcinous the king. "
Therewith goodly Odysseus stept over the threshold. And with him the mighty Alcinous sent forth a henchman to guide him to the swift ship and the sea banks. And Arete sent in his train certain maidens of her household, one bearing a fresh robe and a doublet, and another she joined to them to carry the strong coffer, and yet another bare bread and red wine. Now when they had come down to the ship and to the sea, straightway the good men of the escort took these things and laid them by in the hollow ship, even all the meat and drink. Then they strewed for Odysseus a rug and a sheet of linen, on the decks of the hollow ship in the hinder part thereof, that he might sleep sound. Then he too climbed aboard and laid him down in silence, while they sat upon the benches, every man in order, and unbound the hawser from the pierced stone. So soon as they leant backwards and tossed the sea water with the oar blade, a deep sleep fell upon his eyelids, a sound sleep, very sweet, and next akin to death. And even as on a plain a yoke of four stallions comes springing all together beneath the lash, leaping high and speedily accomplishing the way, so leaped the stern of that ship, and the dark wave of the sounding sea rushed mightily in the wake, and she ran ever surely on her way, nor could a circling hawk keep pace with her, of winged things the swiftest. Even thus she lightly sped and cleft the waves of the sea, bearing a man whose counsel was as the coun sel of the gods, one that erewhile had suffered much sorrow of heart, in passing through the wars of men, and the grievous waves ; but for that time he slept in peace, forgetful of all that he had suffered.
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XII.
So when the star came up, that is brightest of all, and goes ever heralding the light of early Dawn, even then did the sea faring ship draw nigh the island. There is in the land of Ithaca a certain haven of Phorcys, the ancient one of the sea, and thereby are two headlands of sheer cliff, which slope to the sea on the haven's side and break the mighty wave that ill winds roll without, but within, the decked ships ride unmoored when once they have attained to that landing place. Now at the harbor's head is a long-leaved olive tree, and hard by is a pleasant cave and shadowy, sacred to the nymphs, that are called the Naiads. And therein are mixing bowls and jars of stone, and there moreover do bees hive. And there are great looms of stone, whereon the nymphs weave raiment of purple stain, a marvel to behold, and therein are waters welling ever more. Two gates there are to the cave, the one set toward the North Wind whereby men may go down, but the portals toward the South pertain rather to the gods, whereby men may not enter : it is the way of the immortals.
Thither they, as having knowledge of that place, let drive their ship ; and now the vessel in full course ran ashore, half her keel's length high ; so well was she sped by the hands of the oarsmen. Then they alighted from the benched ship upon the land, and first they lifted Odysseus from out the hollow ship, all as he was in the sheet of linen and the bright rug, and laid him yet heavy with slumber on the sand. And they took forth the goods which the lordly Phaeacians had given him on his homeward way by grace of the great-hearted Athene. These they set in a heap by the trunk of the olive tree, a little aside from the road, lest some wayfaring man, before Odysseus awakened, should come and spoil them. Then themselves departed homeward again.
*******
Even then the goodly Odysseus awoke where he slept on his native land ; nor knew he the same again, having now been long afar, for around him the goddess had shed a mist, even Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, to the end that she might make him undiscovered for that he was, and might expound to him all things, that so his wife should not know him, neither his townsmen and kinsfolk, ere the wooers had paid for all
270 THE STORY OF NAUSICAA.
their transgressions. Wherefore each thing showed strange to the lord of the land, the long paths and the sheltering havens and the steep rocks and the trees in their bloom. So he started up, and stood and looked upon his native land, and then he made moan withal, and smote on both his thighs with the down stroke of his hands, and making lament, he spake, saying : —
" Oh, woe is me, unto what mortals' land am I now come ? Say, are they froward, and wild, and unjust, or hospitable and of a god-fearing mind ? Whither shall I bear all this wealth ? Yea where shall I myself go wandering? Oh ! that it had abided with the Phaeacians where it was, and that I had gone to some other of the mighty princes, who would have entreated me kindly and sent me on my way. But now I know not where to bestow my treasure, and yet I will not leave it here behind, lest haply other men make spoil of it. Lo now, they were not wholly wise or just, the princes and counselors of the Phaea cians, who carried me to a strange land. Verily they promised to bring me to clear-seen Ithaca, but they performed it not. May Zeus requite them, the god of suppliants, seeing that he watches over all men and punishes the transgressor ! But come, I will reckon up these goods and look to them, lest the men be gone, and have taken back of their gifts upon their hollow ship. "
Therewith he set to number the fair tripods and the cal drons and the gold and the goodly woven raiment ; and of all these he lacked not aught, but he bewailed him for his own country, as he walked downcast by the shore of the sounding sea, and made sore lament. Then Athene came nigh him in the guise of a young man, the herdsman of a flock, a young man most delicate, such as are the sons of kings. And she had a well-wrought mantle that fell in two folds about her shoulders, and beneath her smooth feet she had sandals bound, and a jave lin in her hands. And Odysseus rejoiced as he saw her, and came over against her, and uttering his voice spake to her winged words : —
" Friend, since thou art the first that I have chanced on in this land, hail to thee, and with no ill will mayest thou meet me ! Nay, save this my substance and save me too, for to thee as to a god I make prayer, and to thy dear knees have I come. And herein tell me true, that I may surely know. What land, what people is this ? what men dwell herein ? Is it, perchance,
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some clear-seen isle, or a shore of the rich mainland that lies and leans upon the deep ? "
Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athene, spake to him again : "Thou art witless, stranger, or thou art come from afar, if indeed thou askest of this land ; nay, it is not so very name
less but that many men know it, both all those who dwell toward the dawning and the sun, and they that abide over against the light toward the shadowy west. Verily it is rough and not fit for the driving of horses, yet is it not a very sorry isle, though narrow withal. For herein is corn past telling, and herein too wine is found, and the rain is on it evermore, and the fresh dew. And it is good for feeding goats and feed ing kine ; all manner of wood is here, and watering places unfailing are herein. Wherefore, stranger, the name of Ithaca hath reached even unto Troy-land, which men say is far from this Achsean shore. "
So spake she, and the steadfast goodly Odysseus was glad, and had joy in his own country, according to the word of Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, lord of the aegis. And he uttered his voice and spake unto her winged words ; yet he did not speak the truth, but wrested the word into guile, for he had a gainful and a nimble wit within his breast : —
" Of Ithaca have I heard tell, even in broad Crete, far over the seas ; and now have I come hither myself with these my goods. And I left as much again to my children, when I turned outlaw for the slaying of the dear son of Idomeneus, Orsilochus, swift of foot, who in wide Crete was the swiftest of all men that live by bread. Now he would have despoiled me of all that booty of Troy, for the which I had endured pain of heart, in passing through the wars of men, and the grievous waves of the sea, for this cause that I would not do a favor to his father, and make me his squire in the land of the Trojans, but commanded other fellowship of mine own. So I smote him with a bronze-shod spear as he came home from the field, lying in ambush for him by the wayside, with one of my com panions. And dark midnight held the heavens, and no man marked us, but privily I took his life away. Now after I had slain him with the sharp spear, straightway I went to a ship and besought the lordly Phoenicians, and gave them spoil to their hearts' desire. I charged them to take me on board, and land me at Pylos or at goodly Elis where the Epeans bear rule. Howbeit of a truth, the might of the wind drave them out of
272 THE STORY OF NAUSICAA.
their course, sore against their will, nor did they willfully play me false. Thence we were driven wandering, and came hither by night. And with much ado we rowed onward into harbor, nor took we any thought of supper, though we stood sore in need thereof, but even as we were we stept ashore and all lay down. Then over me there came sweet slumber in my weari ness, but they took forth my goods from the hollow ship, and set them by me where I myself lay upon the sands. Then they went on board, and departed for the fair-lying land of Sidon ; while as for me I was left stricken at heart. "
So spake he, and the goddess, gray-eyed Athene, smiled, and caressed him with her hand ; and straightway she changed to the semblance of a woman, fair and tall, and skilled in splendid handiwork. And uttering her voice she spake unto him winged words : —
" Crafty must he be and knavish, who would outdo thee in all manner of guile, even if it were a god encountered thee. Hardy man, subtle of wit, of guile insatiate, so thou wast not even in thine own country to cease from thy sleights and knavish words, which thou lovest from the bottom of thine heart! But come, no more let us tell of these things, being both of us practiced in deceits, for that thou art of all men far the first in counsel and in discourse, and I in the company of all the gods win renown for my wit and wile. Yet thou knewest not me, Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, who am always by thee and guard thee in all adventures. Yea, and I made thee to be beloved of all the Phaeacians. And now am I come hither to contrive a plot with thee and to hide away the goods, that by my counsel and design the noble Phseacians gave thee on thy homeward way. And I would tell thee how great a measure of trouble thou art ordained to fulfill within thy well-builded house. But do thou harden thy heart, for so it must be, and tell none neither man nor woman of all the folk, that thou hast indeed returned from wandering, but in silence endure much sorrow, submitting thee to the despite of men. "
" And Odysseus of many counsels answered her, saying :
Hard is it, goddess, for a mortal man that meets thee to discern thee, howsoever wise he be ; for thou takest upon thee every shape. But this I know well, that of old thou wast kindly to me, so long as we sons of the Achaeans made war in Troy. But so soon as we had sacked the steep city of
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273
Priam and had gone on board our ships, and the god had scattered the Achaeans, thereafter I have never beheld thee, daughter of Zeus, nor seen thee coming on board my ship, to ward off sorrow from me. But I wandered evermore with a stricken heart, till the gods delivered me from my evil case, even till the day when, within the fat land of the men of Phaeacia, thou didst comfort me with thy words, and thyself didst lead me to their city. And now I beseech thee in thy father's name to tell me : for I deem not that I am come to clear-seen Ithaca, but I roam over some other land, and me- thinks that thou speakest thus to mock me and beguile my mind. Tell me whether in very deed I am come to mine own dear country. "
Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athene, answered him : "Yea, such a thought as this is ever in thy breast. Wherefore I may in no wise leave thee in all thy grief, so wary art thou, so ready of wit and so prudent. Right gladly would any other man on his return from wandering have hasted to behold his children and his wife in his halls ; but thou hast no will to learn or to hear aught, till thou hast furthermore made trial of thy wife, who sits as ever in her halls, and wearily for her the nights wane always and the days, in shedding of tears. But of this I never doubted, but ever knew it in my heart that thou wouldest come home with the loss of all thy company. Yet, I tell thee, I had no mind to be at strife with Poseidon, my own father's brother, who laid up wrath in his heart against thee, being angered at the blinding of his dear son. But come, and I will show thee the place of the dwelling of Ithaca, that thou mayst be assured. Lo, here is the haven of Phorcys, the ancient one of the sea, and here at the haven's head is the olive tree with spreading leaves, and hard by it is the pleasant cave and shadowy, sacred to the nymphs that are called the Naiads. Yonder, behold, is the roofed cavern, where thou offeredst many an acceptable sacrifice of hecatombs to the nymphs ; and lo, this hill is Neriton, all clothed in forest. "
Therewith the goddess scattered the mist, and the land appeared. Then the steadfast goodly Odysseus was glad, rejoicing in his own land, and he kissed the earth, the grain giver. And anon he prayed to the nymphs, and lifted up his hands, saying : —
" Ye Naiad nymphs, daughters of Zeus, never did I think to look on you again, but now be ye greeted in my loving
vol. n. —18
274 GLAUCUS AND CIRCE.
prayers : yea and gifts as aforetime I will give, if the daugh ter of Zeus, driver of the spoil, suffer me of her grace myself to live, and bring my dear son to manhood. "
" Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athene, spake to him again :
Be of good courage, and let not thy heart be careful about these things. But come, let us straightway set thy goods in the secret place of the wondrous cave, that there they may abide for thee safe. And let us for ourselves advise us how all may be for the very best. "
Therewith the goddess plunged into the shadowy cave, searching out the chambers of the cavern. Meanwhile Odys seus brought up his treasure, the gold and the unyielding bronze and fair woven raiment, which the Phseacians gave him. And these things he laid by with care, and Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, lord of the aegis, set a stone against the door of the cave. Then they twain sat down by the trunk of the sacred olive tree, and devised death for the froward wooers.
GLAUCUS AND CIRCE. By JOHN KEATS.
(From " Endymion. ")
[John Keats : An English poet, sometimes called " The Poets' Poet "; born at Moorsfleld, London, October 31, 1795 ; died at Rome, Italy, February 23, 1821. His first poem, " Endymion," was issued when he was twenty-three. It has beautiful passages, but the story is very difficult to follow, and is mainly a vehicle for luscious verbal music. Its promise was more than fulfilled in his second volume, published in 1820, and containing many noble sonnets, the im mortal "Ode on a Grecian Urn," "The Eve of St. Agnes," etc. His highest flight was reached in the sublime " Hyperion," but he had no constructive im agination and let it drop after the first canto. He had enormous effect on the coming poets of his time, and Tennyson was his thoroughgoing disciple. The "Love Letters to Fanny Brawne" appeared in 1878 ; his " Letters to his Family and Friends " in 1891. ]
Ah, Scylla fair ! Why did poor Glaucus ever — ever dare
To sue thee to his heart ? Kind stranger youth ! I loved her to the very white of truth,
And she would not conceive it. Timid thing! She fled me swift as sea bird on the wing,
Round every isle, and point, and promontory, From where large Hercules wound up his story
GLAUCUS AND CIKCE.
Far as Egyptian Nile. My passion grew The more, the more I saw her dainty hue Gleam delicately through the azure clear: Until 'twas too fierce agony to bear;
And in that agony, across my grief —
It flashed, that Circe might find some relief
Cruel enchantress ! So above the water
I reared my head, and looked for Phoebus' daughter. j? Eaea's isle was wondering at the moon : —
It seemed to vhirl around me, and a swoon Left me dead drifting to that fatal power.
When I awoke, 'twas in a twilight bower ;
Just when the light of morn, with hum of bees, Stole through its verdurous matting of fresh trees. How sweet, and sweeter ! for I heard a lyre,
And over it a sighing voice expire.
It ceased —
The fairest face that morn e'er looked upon Pushed through a screen of roses. Starry Jove ! With tears, and smiles, and honey words she wove A net whose thraldom was more bliss than all
The range of flowered Elysium. Thus did fall The dew of her rich speech :
I caught light footsteps ; and anon
"Ah! Art awake? 0 let me hear thee speak, for Cupid's sake !
1 am so oppressed with joy ! Why, I have shed An urn of tears, as though thou wert cold dead; And now I find thee living, I will pour
From these devoted eyes their silver store, Until exhausted of the latest drop,
So it will pleasure thee, and force thee stop Here, that I too may live : but if beyond
Such cool and sorrowful offerings, thou art fond Of soothing warmth, of dalliance supreme ;
If thou art ripe to taste a long love dream ; If smiles, if dimples, tongues for ardor mute, Hang in thy vision like a tempting fruit,
O let me pluck it for thee. "
Thus she linked Her charming syllables, till indistinct
Their music came to my o'er-sweetened soul ; And then she hovered over me, and stole
So near, that if no nearer it had been
This furrowed visage thou hadst never seen.
GLAUCUS AND CIRCE.
Young man of Latmus ! thus particular
Am I, that thou may'st plainly see how far
This fierce temptation went : and thou mayst not Exclaim, How then, was Scylla quite forgot ?
Who could resist ? Who in this universe ? She did so breathe ambrosia ; so immerse
My fine existence in a golden clime.
She took me like a child of suckling time, And cradled me in roses. Thus condemned, The current of my former life was stemmed, And to this arbitrary queen of sense
I bowed a tranced vassal ; nor would thence
Have moved, even though Amphion's harp had wooed Me back to Scylla o'er the billows rude.
For as Apollo each eve doth devise
A new appareling for western skies ;
So every eve, nay every spendthrift hour
Shed balmy consciousness within that bower.
And I was free of haunts umbrageous ;
Could wander in the mazy forest house
Of squirrels, foxes shy, and antlered deer,
And birds from coverts innermost and drear Warbling for very joy mellifluous sorrow —
To me new-born delights !
Now let me borrow, For moments few, a temperament as stern
As Pluto's scepter, that my words not burn These uttering lips, while I in calm speech tell How specious heaven was changed to real hell.
One morn she left me sleeping : half awake
I sought for her smooth arms and lips, to slake My greedy thirst with nectarous camel draughts ; But she was gone. Whereat the barbed shafts
Of disappointment stuck in me so sore
That out I ran and searched the forest o'er. Wandering about in pine and cedar gloom
Damp awe assailed me ; for there 'gan to boom
A sound of moan, an agony of sound,
Sepulchral from the distance all around.
Then came a conquering earth thunder, and rumbled That fierce complain to silence : while I stumbled Down a precipitous path, as if impelled.
I
came to a dark valley.
GLAUCUS AND CIKCE.
Groanings swelled Poisonous about my ears, and louder grew,
The nearer I approached a flame's gaunt blue, That glared before me through a thorny brake. This fire, like the eye of gordian snake, Bewitched me towards ; and I soon was near
A sight too fearful for the feel of fear :
In thicket hid I cursed the haggard scene — The banquet of my arms, my arbor queen,
Seated upon an uptorn forest root ;
And all around her shapes, wizard and brute, Laughing, and wailing, groveling, serpenting, Showing tooth, tusk, and venom bag, and sting I O such deformities ! Old Charon's self,
Should he give up awhile his penny pelf,
And take a dream 'mong rushes Stygian,
It could not be so phantasied. Fierce, wan,
And tyrannizing was the lady's look,
As over them a gnarled staff she shook.
Ofttimes upon the sudden she laughed out,
And from a basket emptied to the rout
Clusters of grapes, the which they ravened quick And roared for more ; with many a hungry lick About their shaggy jaws. Avenging, slow,
Anon she took a branch of mistletoe,
And emptied on't a black dull-gurgling phial : Groaned one and all, as if some piercing trial
Was sharpening for their pitiable bones.
She lifted up the charm : appealing groans
From their poor breasts went suing to her ear
In vain ; remorseless as an infant's bier
She whisked against their eyes the sooty oil. Whereat was heard a noise of painful toil, Increasing gradual to a tempest rage,
Shrieks, yells, and groans of torture pilgrimage ; Until their grieved bodies 'gan to bloat
And puff from the tail's end to stifled throat : Then was appalling silence : then a sight
More wildering than all that hoarse affright ;
For the whole herd, as by a whirlwind writhen, Went through the dismal air like one huge Python Antagonizing Boreas, — and so vanished.
Yet there was not a breath of wind : she banished These phantoms with a nod. Lo ! from the dark Come waggish fauns, and nymphs, and satyrs stark,
GLAUCUS AND CIRCE.
With dancing and loud revelry, — and went Swifter than centaurs after rapine bent. — Sighing, an elephant appeared and bowed Before the fierce witch, speaking thus aloud In human accent : " Potent goddess ! chief Of pains resistless ! make my being brief, Or let me from this heavy prison fly :
Or give me to the air, or let me die !
I
I
I sue not for my lone, my widowed wife ;
I sue not for my ruddy drops of life,
My children fair, my lovely girls and boys !
sue not for my happy crown again ; sue not for my phalanx on the plain ;
I will forget them ; —
I will pass these joys ;
Ask naught so heavenward, so too
Only I pray, as fairest boon, to die,
Or be delivered from this cumbrous flesh,
From this gross, detestable, filthy mesh,
And merely given to the cold, bleak air. * Have mercy, goddess I Circe, feel my prayer !
That curst magician's name fell icy numb Upon my wild conjecturing : truth had come Naked and saberlike against my heart.
I saw a fury whetting a death dart ;
And my slain spirit, overwrought with fright, Fainted away in that dark lair of night.
Think, my deliverer, how desolate
My waking must have been I disgust, and hate, And terrors manifold divided me
A spoil amongst them. I prepared to flee
Into the dungeon core of that wild wood :
I fled three days — when lo ! before me stood Glaring the angry witch. O Dis, even now,
A clammy dew is bending on my brow,
At mere remembering her pale laugh, and curse. "Ha! ha! Sir Dainty! there must be a nurse Made of rose leaves and thistledown, express, To cradle thee, my sweet, and lull thee : yes,
I am too flinty-hard for thy nice touch :
My tenderest squeeze is but a giant's clutch.
So, fairy thing, it shall have lullabies
Unheard of yet ; and it shall still its cries Upon some breast more lily feminine.
Oh, no — it shall not pine, and pine, and pine
too high:
GLAUCUS AND CIRCE.
More than one pretty, trifling thousand years ; And then 'twere pity, but fate's gentle shears Cut short its immortality. Sea flirt !
Young dove of the waters ! truly I'll not hurt One hair of thine : see how I weep and sigh, That our heart-broken parting is so nigh.
And must we part ? Ah, yes, it must be so.
Yet, ere thou leavest me in utter woe,
Let me sob over thee my last adieus,
. And speak a blessing. Mark me ! Thou hast thews Immortal, for thou art of heavenly race ;
But such a love is mine, that here I chase Eternally away from thee all bloom
Of youth, and destine thee towards a tomb. Hence shalt thou quickly to the watery vast ; And there, ere many days be overpast, Disabled age shall seize thee ; and even then Thou shalt not go the way of aged men ;
But live and wither, cripple and still breathe Ten hundred years ; which gone, I then bequeath Thy fragile bones to unknown burial.
Adieu, sweet love, adieu ! "
As shot stars fall, She fled ere I could groan for mercy. Stung
And poisoned was my spirit : despair sung
A war song of defiance 'gainst all hell.
A hand was at my shoulder to compel
My sullen steps ; another 'fore my eyes Moved on with pointed finger. In this guise Enforced, at the last by ocean's foam
I found me ; by my fresh, my native home. Its tempering coolness, to my life akin,
Came salutary as I waded in ;
And, with a blind, voluptuous rage,
Battle to the swollen billow ridge, and drave
Large froth before me, while there yet remained Hale strength, nor from my bones all marrow drained.
Young lover, I must weep — such hellish spite With dry cheek who can tell ? While thus my might Proving upon this element, dismayed,
Upon a dead thing's face my hand I laid ;
I looked — 'twas Scylla! Cursed, cursed Circe!
O vulture witch, hast never heard of mercy ?
I
gave
280
THE STRAYED REVELER.
Could not thy harshest vengeance be content, But thou must nip this tender innocent Because I loved her ? — Cold, O cold indeed Were her fair limbs, and like a common weed The sea swell took her hair. Dead as she was I clung about her waist, nor ceased to pass Fleet as an arrow through unfathomed brine, Until there shone a fabric crystalline,
Ribbed and inlaid with coral, pebble, and pearl. Headlong I darted ; at one eager swirl
Gained its bright portal, entered, and behold I 'Twas vast, and desolate, and icy cold ;
And all around — But wherefore this to thee,
Who, in few minutes more, thyself shalt see ? —
I left poor Scylla in a niche and fled.
My fevered parchings up, my scathing dread
Met palsy halfway; soon these limbs became Gaunt, withered, sapless, feeble, cramped, and lame.
THE STRAYED REVELER.
By MATTHEW ARNOLD.
[For biographical sketch, see Principles of Homeric Translation. ]
Scene : The Portico of Circe's Palace. Evening. Present : A Youth,
Ciece.
The Youth — Faster, faster,
O Circe, Goddess,
Let the wild, thronging train, The bright procession
Of eddying forms,
Sweep through my soul !
Thou standest, smiling
Down on me ! thy right arm,
Leaned up against the column there, Props thy soft cheek ;
Thy left holds, hanging loosely,
The deep cup, ivy-cinctured,
1 held but now.
Circe —
THE STRAYED REVELER.
Is it then evening
So soon ? I see, the night dews, Clustered in thick beads, dim The agate brooch stones
On thy white shoulder;
The cool night wind, too,
Blows through the portico,
Stirs thy hair, Goddess,
Waves thy white robe !
Whence art thou, sleeper ?
The Youth — When the white dawn first Through the rough fir planks Of my hut, by the chestnuts,
Circe —
Thy palace, Goddess, Smokeless, empty !
Trembling, I entered; beheld The court all silent,
The lions sleeping,
On the altar this bowl.
I drank, Goddess !
And sank down here, sleeping, On the steps of thy portico.
Foolish boy ! Why tremblest thou ? Thou lovest then, my wine
Wouldst more of See, how glows,
Up at the valley head,
Came breaking, Goddess !
I sprang up, I threw round me
My dappled fawn skin ;
Passing out, from the wet turf,
Where they lay, by the hut door,
I snatched up my vine crown, my fir staff, All drenched in dew —
Came swift down to join
The rout early gathered
In the town, round the temple,
Iacchus' white fane
On yonder hill.
Quick I passed, following The woodcutters' cart track
I saw On my left, through the beeches,
Down the dark valley ; —
it ?
it,
?
282
THE STRAYED REVELER.
Through the delicate, flushed marble, The red, creaming liquor,
Strown with dark seeds !
Drink, then !
I chide thee not, Deny thee not my bowl.
Come, stretch forth thy hand, then Drink — drink again !
The Youth — Thanks, gracious one ! — Ah, the sweet fumes again !
—
so!
Circe —
Ulysses —
More soft, ah me,
More subtle-winding Than Pan's flute music ! Faint — faint ! Ah me, Again the sweet sleep !
Hist! Thou — within there! Come forth, Ulysses !
Art tired with hunting ? While we range the woodland, See what the day brings.
Circe —
Ever new magic !
Hast thou then lured hither,
Wonderful Goddess, by thy art,
The young, languid-eyed Ampelus,
Iacchus' darling —
Or some youth beloved of Pan,
Of Pan and the Nymphs ?
That he sits, bending downward
His white, delicate neck
To the ivy-wreathed marge
Of thy cup ; the bright, glancing vine leaves That crown his hair,
Falling forward, mingling —
With the dark ivy plants
His fawn skin, half untied,
Smeared with red wine stains ?
That he sits, overweighed
By fumes of wine and sleep,
So late, in thy portico ?
What youth, Goddess, — what guest
Of Gods or mortals ?
Hist ! he wakes !
I lured him not hither, Ulysses. Nay, ask him !
Who is he,
THE STRAYED REVELER. 283
The Youth — Who speaks ! Ah, who comes forth To thy side, Goddess, from within ?
Ulysses —
How shall I name him ? This spare, dark-featured,
Quick-eyed stranger ?
Ah, and I see too
His sailor's bonnet,
His short coat, travel-tarnished, With one arm bare ! —
Art thou not he, whom fame
This long time rumors
The favored guest of Circe, brought by the waves ? Art thou he, stranger ?
The wise Ulysses,
Laertes' son ?
I am Ulysses.
And thou, too, sleeper ?
Thy voice is sweet.
It may be thou hast followed
Through the islands some divine bard, By age taught many things,
Age and the Muses ;
And heard him delighting
The chiefs and people
In the banquet, and learned his songs, Of Gods and Heroes,
Of war and arts,
And peopled cities,
Inland, or built
By the gray sea — If so, then hail!
I honor and welcome thee.
The Youth — The Gods are happy. They turn on all sides
Their shining eyes, And see below them The earth and men.
They see Tiresias Sitting, staff in hand, On the warm, grassy Asopus bank,
His robe drawn over His old, sightless head, Revolving inly
The doom of Thebes.
THE STRAYED REVELER.
They see the Centaurs
In the upper glens
Of Pelion, in the streams,
Where red-berried ashes fringe The clear-brown shallow pools, With streaming flanks, and heads Reared proudly, snuffing
The mountain wind.
They see the Indian
Drifting, knife in hand,
His frail boat moored to
A floating isle thick-matted
With large-leaved, low-creeping melon plants, And the dark cucumber.
He reaps, and stows them,
Drifting —drifting ; —round him,
Round his green harvest plot,
Flow the cool lake waves,
The mountains ring them.
They see the Scythian
On the wide stepp, unharnessing
His wheeled house at noon.
He tethers his beast down, and makes his meal — Mares' milk, and bread
Baked on the embers ; — all around
The boundless, waving grass plains stretch, thick-starred With saffron and the yellow hollyhock
And flag-leaved iris flowers.
Sitting in his cart
He makes his meal ; before him, for long miles,
Alive with bright green lizards,
And the springing bustard fowl,
The track, a straight black line,
Furrows the rich soil ; here and there
Clusters of lonely mounds
Topped with rough-hewn,
Gray, rain-bleared statues, overpeer
The sunny waste.
They see the ferry
On the broad, clay-laden —
Lone Chorasmian stream ;
With snort and strain,
Two horses, strongly swimming, tow
thereon,
THE STRAYED REVELER.
The ferryboat, with woven ropes
To either bow
Firm-harnessed by the mane ; a chief, With shout and shaken spear,
285
Stands at the prow, and guides them ; but astern The cowering merchants in long robes
Sit pale beside their wealth
Of silk bales and of balsam drops,
Of gold and ivory,
Of turquoise earth and amethyst,
Jasper and chalcedony,
And milk-barred onyx stones. The loaded boat swings groaning In the yellow eddies ;
The Gods behold them.
They see the Heroes
Sitting in the dark ship
On the foamless, long-heaving, Violet sea,
At sunset nearing
The Happy Islands.
These things, Ulysses, The wise bards also Behold and sing.
But oh, what labor ! O prince, what pain !
They too can see
Tiresias ; — but the Gods, Who give them vision, Added this law :
That they should bear too His groping blindness, His dark foreboding,
His scorned white hairs ; Bear Hera's anger Through a life lengthened To seven ages.
They see the Centaurs
On Pelion ; — then they feel,
They too, the maddening wine
Swell their large veins to bursting ; in wild pain They feel the biting spears
THE STRAYED REVELER.
Of the grim Lapithae, and Theseus, drive, Drive crashing through their bones ; they feel High on a jutting rock in the red stream Alcmena's dreadful son
Ply his bow ; — such a price
The Gods exact for song :
To become what we sing.
They see the Indian —
On his mountain lake;
Make their skiff reel, and worms
In the unkind spring have gnawn
Their melon harvest to the heart — They see The Scythian ; — but long frosts
Parch them in winter time on the bare stepp, Till they too fade like grass ; they crawl Like shadows forth in spring.
They see the merchants
On the Oxus stream ; — but care
Must visit first them too, and make them pale. Whether, through whirling sand,
A cloud of desert robber horse have burst Upon their caravan ; or greedy kings,
In the walled cities the way passes through, Crushed them with tolls ; or fever airs,
On some great river's marge,
Mown them down, far from home.
They see the Heroes
Near harbor ; — but they share
Their lives, and former violent toil in Thebes, Seven-gated Thebes, or Troy ;
Or where the echoing oars
Of Argo first
Startled the unknown sea.
The old Silenus
Came, lolling in the sunshine, From the dewy forest coverts, This way, at noon.
Sitting by me, while his Fauns Down at the water side Sprinkled and smoothed
His drooping garland,
He told me these things.
but squalls
Circe's Palace
CIKCE'S PALACE.
287
But I, Ulysses,
Sitting on the warm steps, Looking over the valley,
All day long, have seen,
Without pain, without labor, Sometimes a wild-haired Maenad Sometimes a Faun with torches — And sometimes, for a moment, Passing through the dark stems Flowing-robed, the beloved,
The desired, the divine,
Beloved Iacchus.
Ah, cool night wind, tremulous stars! Ah, glimmering water,
Fitful earth murmur,
Dreaming woods !
Ah, golden-haired, strangely smiling Goddess, And thou, proved, much enduring, Wave-tossed Wanderer I
Who can stand still ? —
Ye fade, ye swim, ye waver before me The cup again 1
Faster, faster, O Circe, Goddess,
Let the wild, thronging train, The bright procession
Of eddying forms,
Sweep through my soul !
CIRCE'S PALACE.
By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.
—
[Nathaniel Hawthorne : American story-writer ; born at Salem, Mass. , July 4, 1804 ; died at Plymouth, N. H. , May 19, 1864. His official positions, in the customhouse at Salem and as United States consul at Liverpool, furnished him with many opportunities for the study of human nature. His literary popularity was of slow growth, but was founded on the eternal verities. His most famous novels are " The Scarlet Letter " (1850), " The House of the Seven Gables" (1851), " The Blithedale Romance " (1852), "The MarbleFaun" (1860), " Septimius Felton," posthumous. He wrote a great number of short stories, inimitable in style and full of weird imagination. "Twice-told Tales," first
288 CIRCE'S PALACE.
series appeared in 1837 ; "The Snow Image and Other Twice-told Tales," in 1852; " Tanglewood Tales," in 1853. ]
Some of you have heard, no doubt, of the wise King Ulysses, and how he went to the siege of Troy, and how, after the famous city was taken and burned, he spent ten long years in trying to get back again to his own little kingdom of Ithaca. At one time in the course of this weary voyage, he arrived at an island that looked very green and pleasant, but the name of which was un known to him. For, only a little while before he came thither, he had met with a terrible hurricane, or rather a great many hurricanes at once, which drove his fleet of vessels into a strange part of the sea, where neither himself nor any of his mariners had ever sailed. This misfortune was entirely owing to the foolish curiosity of his shipmates, who, while Ulysses lay asleep, had untied some very bulky leathern bags, in which they sup posed a valuable treasure to be concealed. But in each of these stout bags, King . <Eolus, the ruler of the winds, had tied up a tempest, and had given it to Ulysses to keep, in order that he might be sure of a favorable passage homeward to Ithaca ;
and when the strings were loosened, forth rushed the whis tling blasts, like air out of a blown bladder, whitening the sea with foam, and scattering the vessels nobody could tell whither.
Immediately after escaping from this peril, a still greater one had befallen him. Scudding before the hurricane, he reached a place which, as he afterwards found, was called Laestrygonia, where some monstrous giants had eaten up many of his com panions, and had sunk every one of his vessels, except that in which he himself sailed, by flinging great masses of rock at them, from the cliffs along the shore. After going through such troubles as these, you cannot wonder that King Ulysses was glad to moor his tempest-beaten bark in a quiet cove of the green island which I began with telling you about. But he had encountered so many dangers from giants, and one-eyed Cyclopes, and monsters of the sea and land, that he could not help dreading some mischief, even in this pleasant and seem ingly solitary spot. For two days, therefore, the poor weather worn voyagers kept quiet, and either stayed on board of their vessel, or merely crept along under cliffs that bordered the shore ; and to keep themselves alive they dug shellfish out of
CIRCE'S PALACE. 289
the sand, and sought for any little rill of fresh water that might be running towards the sea.
Before the two days were spent, they grew very weary of this kind of life ; for the followers of King Ulysses, as you will find it important to remember, were terrible gormandizers, and pretty sure to grumble if they missed their regular meals, and their irregular ones besides. Their stock of provisions was quite exhausted, and even the shellfish began to get scarce, so that they had now to choose between starving to death or ven turing into the interior of the island, where, perhaps, some huge three-headed dragon, or other horrible monster, had his den. Such misshapen creatures were very numerous in those days ; and nobody ever expected to make a voyage, or take a journey, without running more or less risk of being devoured by them.
But King Ulysses was a bold man as well as a prudent one ; and on the third morning he determined to discover what sort of a place the island was, and whether it were possible to obtain a supply of food for the hungry mouths of his companions. So, taking a spear in his hand, he clambered to the summit of a cliff, and gazed round about him. At a distance, towards the center of the island, he beheld the stately towers of what seemed to be a palace, built of snow-white marble, and rising in the midst of a grove of lofty trees. The thick branches of these trees stretched across the front of the edifice, and more than half concealed it, although, from the portion which he saw, Ulysses judged it to be spacious and exceedingly beautiful, and probably the residence of some great nobleman or prince. A blue smoke went curling up from the chimney, and was almost the pleasantest part of the spectacle to Ulysses. For, from the abundance of this smoke, it was reasonable to conclude that there was a good fire in the kitchen, and that, at dinner time, a plentiful banquet would be served up to the inhabitants of the palace, and to whatever guests might happen to drop in.
With so agreeable a prospect before him, Ulysses fancied that he could not do better than to go straight to the palace gate, and tell the master of it that there was a crew of poor shipwrecked mariners, not far off, who had eaten nothing for a day or two save a few clams and oysters, and would therefore be thankful for a little food. And the prince or nobleman must be a very stingy curmudgeon, to be sure, at least, when
vol. n. — 19
if,
290 CIRCE'S PALACE.
his own dinner was over, he would not bid them welcome to the broken victuals from the table.
Pleasing himself with this idea, King Ulysses had made a few steps in the direction of the palace, when there was a great twittering and chirping from the branch of a neighboring tree. A moment afterwards, a bird came flying towards him, and hovered in the air, so as almost to brush his face with its wings. It was a very pretty little bird, with purple wings and body, and yellow legs, aDd a circle of golden feathers round its neck, and on its head a golden tuft, which looked like a king's crown in miniature. Ulysses tried to catch the bird. But it fluttered nimbly out of his reach, still chirping in a piteous tone, as if it could have told a lamentable story, had it only been gifted with human language. And when he attempted to drive it away, the bird flew no farther than the bough of the next tree, and again came fluttering about his head, with its doleful chirp, as soon as he showed a purpose of going forward. "
"Have you anything to tell me, little bird? asked Ulysses.
And he was ready to listen attentively to whatever the bird might communicate ; for at the siege of Troy, and elsewhere, he had known such odd things to happen, that he would not have considered it much out of the common run had this little feathered creature talked as plainly as himself.
" Peep ! " said the bird, " peep, peep, pe—weep ! " And nothing else would it say, but only, " Peep, peep, pe—weep ! " in a melancholy cadence, and over and over and over again. As often as Ulysses moved forward, however, the bird showed the greatest alarm, and did its best to drive him back, with the anxious flutter of its purple wings. Its unaccountable behavior made him conclude, at last, that the bird knew of some danger that awaited him, and which must needs be very terrible, be yond all question, since it moved even a little fowl to feel com passion for a human being. So he resolved, for the present, to return to the vessel, and tell his companions what he had seen.
This appeared to satisfy the bird. As soon as Ulysses turned back, it ran up the trunk of a tree, and began to pick insects out of the bark with its long, sharp bill ; for it was a kind of woodpecker, you must know, and had to get its living in the same manner as other birds of that species. But every little while, as it pecked at the bark of the tree, the purple bird bethought itself of some secret sorrow, and repeated its plain tive note of " Peep, peep, pe — weep ! "
CIRCE'S PALACE. 291
On his way to the shore, Ulysses had the good luck to kill a large stag by thrusting his spear into its back. Taking it on his shoulders (for he was a remarkably strong man), he lugged it along with him, and flung it down before his hungry com panions. I have already hinted to you what gormandizers some of the comrades of King Ulysses were. From what is related of them, I reckon that their favorite diet was pork, and that they had lived upon it until a good part of their physical substance was swine's flesh, and their tempers and dispositions were very much akin to the hog. A dish of venison, however, was no unacceptable meal to them, especially after feeding so long on oysters and clams. So, beholding the dead stag, they felt of its ribs in a knowing way, and lost no time in kindling a fire, of driftwood, to cook it.
Nau sicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinous, yea, may Zeus, the thunderer, the lord of Here, grant me to reach my home and see the day of my returning ; so would I, even there, do thee worship as to a god, all my days for evermore, for thou, lady,
hast given me my life. "
He spake and sat him in the high seat by king Alcinous.
And now they were serving out the portions and mixing the wine. Then the henchman drew nigh leading the sweet min strel, Demodocus, that was had in honor of the people. So he set him in the midst of the feasters, and made him lean against a tall column. Then to the henchman spake Odysseus of many counsels, for he had cut off a portion of the chine of a white- toothed boar, whereon yet more was left, with rich fat on either side": —
Lo, henchman, take this mess, and hand it to Demodocus, that he may eat, and I will bid him hail, despite my sorrow. For minstrels of all men on earth get their meed of honor and worship ; inasmuch as the muse teacheth them the paths of song, and loveth the tribe of minstrels. "
XI.
So spake he, and dead silence fell on all, and they were spell bound throughout the shadowy halls. Thereupon Alcinous answered him, and spake, saying : —
" Odysseus, now that thou hast come to my high house with floor of bronze, never, methinks, shalt thou be driven from thy way ere thou returnest, though thou hast been sore afflicted. And for each man among you, that in these halls of mine drink
THE STORY OF NAUSICAA. 267
evermore the dark wine of the elders, and hearken to the min strel, this is my word and command. Garments for the stranger are already laid up in a polished coffer, with gold curiously wrought, and all other such gifts as the counselors of the Phseacians bare hither. Come now, let us each of us give him a great tripod and a caldron, and we in turn will gather goods among the people and get us recompense ; for it were hard that one man should give without return. "
So spake Alcinous, and the saying pleased them well. Then they went each one to his house to lay him down to rest ; but so soon as early Dawn shone forth, the rosy-fingered, they hasted to the ship and bare the bronze, the joy of men. And the mighty king Alcinous himself went about the ship and diligently be stowed the gifts beneath the benches, that they might not hinder any of the crew in their rowing, when they labored at their oars. Then they betook them to the house of Alcinous and fell to feasting. And the mighty king Alcinous sacrificed before them an ox to Zeus, the son of Cronos, that dwells in the dark clouds, who is lord of all. And when they had burnt the pieces of the thighs, they shared the glorious feast and made merry, and among them harped the divine minstrel De- modocus, whom the people honored. But Odysseus would ever turn his head toward the splendor of the sun, being fain to hasten his setting : for verily he was most eager to return. And as when a man longs for his supper, for whom all day long two dark oxen drag through the fallow field the jointed plow, yea and welcome to such an one the sunlight sinketh, that so he may get him to supper, for his knees wax faint by the way, even so welcome was the sinking of the sunlight to Odysseus. Then straight he spake among the Phseacians, masters of the oar, and to Alcinous in chief he made known his word, saying : —
" My lord Alcinous, most notable of all the people, pour ye the drink offering, and send me safe upon my way, and as for you, fare ye well. For now have I all that my heart desired, an escort and loving gifts. May the gods of heaven give me good fortune with them, and may I find my noble wife in my home with my friends unharmed, while ye, for your part, abide here and make glad your gentle wives and children ; and may the gods vouchsafe all manner of good, and may no evil come nigh the people ! "
So spake he, and they all consented thereto and bade send the stranger on his way, in that he had spoken aright. Then
268 THE STORY OF NAUSICAA.
the mighty king Alcinous spake to the henchman : " Pontonous, mix the bowl and serve out the wine to all in the hall, that we may pray to Father Zeus, and send the stranger on his way to his own country. "
So spake he, and Pontonous mixed the honey-hearted wine, and served it to all in turn. And they poured forth before the blessed gods that keep wide heaven, even there as they sat. Then goodly Odysseus uprose, and placed in Arete's hand the double cup, and uttering his voice spake to her winged words : —
" Fare thee well, O queen, all the days of thy life, till old age come and death, that visit all mankind. But I go home ward, and do thou in this thy house rejoice in thy children and thy people and Alcinous the king. "
Therewith goodly Odysseus stept over the threshold. And with him the mighty Alcinous sent forth a henchman to guide him to the swift ship and the sea banks. And Arete sent in his train certain maidens of her household, one bearing a fresh robe and a doublet, and another she joined to them to carry the strong coffer, and yet another bare bread and red wine. Now when they had come down to the ship and to the sea, straightway the good men of the escort took these things and laid them by in the hollow ship, even all the meat and drink. Then they strewed for Odysseus a rug and a sheet of linen, on the decks of the hollow ship in the hinder part thereof, that he might sleep sound. Then he too climbed aboard and laid him down in silence, while they sat upon the benches, every man in order, and unbound the hawser from the pierced stone. So soon as they leant backwards and tossed the sea water with the oar blade, a deep sleep fell upon his eyelids, a sound sleep, very sweet, and next akin to death. And even as on a plain a yoke of four stallions comes springing all together beneath the lash, leaping high and speedily accomplishing the way, so leaped the stern of that ship, and the dark wave of the sounding sea rushed mightily in the wake, and she ran ever surely on her way, nor could a circling hawk keep pace with her, of winged things the swiftest. Even thus she lightly sped and cleft the waves of the sea, bearing a man whose counsel was as the coun sel of the gods, one that erewhile had suffered much sorrow of heart, in passing through the wars of men, and the grievous waves ; but for that time he slept in peace, forgetful of all that he had suffered.
THE STORY OF NAUSICAA. 269
XII.
So when the star came up, that is brightest of all, and goes ever heralding the light of early Dawn, even then did the sea faring ship draw nigh the island. There is in the land of Ithaca a certain haven of Phorcys, the ancient one of the sea, and thereby are two headlands of sheer cliff, which slope to the sea on the haven's side and break the mighty wave that ill winds roll without, but within, the decked ships ride unmoored when once they have attained to that landing place. Now at the harbor's head is a long-leaved olive tree, and hard by is a pleasant cave and shadowy, sacred to the nymphs, that are called the Naiads. And therein are mixing bowls and jars of stone, and there moreover do bees hive. And there are great looms of stone, whereon the nymphs weave raiment of purple stain, a marvel to behold, and therein are waters welling ever more. Two gates there are to the cave, the one set toward the North Wind whereby men may go down, but the portals toward the South pertain rather to the gods, whereby men may not enter : it is the way of the immortals.
Thither they, as having knowledge of that place, let drive their ship ; and now the vessel in full course ran ashore, half her keel's length high ; so well was she sped by the hands of the oarsmen. Then they alighted from the benched ship upon the land, and first they lifted Odysseus from out the hollow ship, all as he was in the sheet of linen and the bright rug, and laid him yet heavy with slumber on the sand. And they took forth the goods which the lordly Phaeacians had given him on his homeward way by grace of the great-hearted Athene. These they set in a heap by the trunk of the olive tree, a little aside from the road, lest some wayfaring man, before Odysseus awakened, should come and spoil them. Then themselves departed homeward again.
*******
Even then the goodly Odysseus awoke where he slept on his native land ; nor knew he the same again, having now been long afar, for around him the goddess had shed a mist, even Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, to the end that she might make him undiscovered for that he was, and might expound to him all things, that so his wife should not know him, neither his townsmen and kinsfolk, ere the wooers had paid for all
270 THE STORY OF NAUSICAA.
their transgressions. Wherefore each thing showed strange to the lord of the land, the long paths and the sheltering havens and the steep rocks and the trees in their bloom. So he started up, and stood and looked upon his native land, and then he made moan withal, and smote on both his thighs with the down stroke of his hands, and making lament, he spake, saying : —
" Oh, woe is me, unto what mortals' land am I now come ? Say, are they froward, and wild, and unjust, or hospitable and of a god-fearing mind ? Whither shall I bear all this wealth ? Yea where shall I myself go wandering? Oh ! that it had abided with the Phaeacians where it was, and that I had gone to some other of the mighty princes, who would have entreated me kindly and sent me on my way. But now I know not where to bestow my treasure, and yet I will not leave it here behind, lest haply other men make spoil of it. Lo now, they were not wholly wise or just, the princes and counselors of the Phaea cians, who carried me to a strange land. Verily they promised to bring me to clear-seen Ithaca, but they performed it not. May Zeus requite them, the god of suppliants, seeing that he watches over all men and punishes the transgressor ! But come, I will reckon up these goods and look to them, lest the men be gone, and have taken back of their gifts upon their hollow ship. "
Therewith he set to number the fair tripods and the cal drons and the gold and the goodly woven raiment ; and of all these he lacked not aught, but he bewailed him for his own country, as he walked downcast by the shore of the sounding sea, and made sore lament. Then Athene came nigh him in the guise of a young man, the herdsman of a flock, a young man most delicate, such as are the sons of kings. And she had a well-wrought mantle that fell in two folds about her shoulders, and beneath her smooth feet she had sandals bound, and a jave lin in her hands. And Odysseus rejoiced as he saw her, and came over against her, and uttering his voice spake to her winged words : —
" Friend, since thou art the first that I have chanced on in this land, hail to thee, and with no ill will mayest thou meet me ! Nay, save this my substance and save me too, for to thee as to a god I make prayer, and to thy dear knees have I come. And herein tell me true, that I may surely know. What land, what people is this ? what men dwell herein ? Is it, perchance,
THE STORY OF NAUSICAA. 271
some clear-seen isle, or a shore of the rich mainland that lies and leans upon the deep ? "
Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athene, spake to him again : "Thou art witless, stranger, or thou art come from afar, if indeed thou askest of this land ; nay, it is not so very name
less but that many men know it, both all those who dwell toward the dawning and the sun, and they that abide over against the light toward the shadowy west. Verily it is rough and not fit for the driving of horses, yet is it not a very sorry isle, though narrow withal. For herein is corn past telling, and herein too wine is found, and the rain is on it evermore, and the fresh dew. And it is good for feeding goats and feed ing kine ; all manner of wood is here, and watering places unfailing are herein. Wherefore, stranger, the name of Ithaca hath reached even unto Troy-land, which men say is far from this Achsean shore. "
So spake she, and the steadfast goodly Odysseus was glad, and had joy in his own country, according to the word of Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, lord of the aegis. And he uttered his voice and spake unto her winged words ; yet he did not speak the truth, but wrested the word into guile, for he had a gainful and a nimble wit within his breast : —
" Of Ithaca have I heard tell, even in broad Crete, far over the seas ; and now have I come hither myself with these my goods. And I left as much again to my children, when I turned outlaw for the slaying of the dear son of Idomeneus, Orsilochus, swift of foot, who in wide Crete was the swiftest of all men that live by bread. Now he would have despoiled me of all that booty of Troy, for the which I had endured pain of heart, in passing through the wars of men, and the grievous waves of the sea, for this cause that I would not do a favor to his father, and make me his squire in the land of the Trojans, but commanded other fellowship of mine own. So I smote him with a bronze-shod spear as he came home from the field, lying in ambush for him by the wayside, with one of my com panions. And dark midnight held the heavens, and no man marked us, but privily I took his life away. Now after I had slain him with the sharp spear, straightway I went to a ship and besought the lordly Phoenicians, and gave them spoil to their hearts' desire. I charged them to take me on board, and land me at Pylos or at goodly Elis where the Epeans bear rule. Howbeit of a truth, the might of the wind drave them out of
272 THE STORY OF NAUSICAA.
their course, sore against their will, nor did they willfully play me false. Thence we were driven wandering, and came hither by night. And with much ado we rowed onward into harbor, nor took we any thought of supper, though we stood sore in need thereof, but even as we were we stept ashore and all lay down. Then over me there came sweet slumber in my weari ness, but they took forth my goods from the hollow ship, and set them by me where I myself lay upon the sands. Then they went on board, and departed for the fair-lying land of Sidon ; while as for me I was left stricken at heart. "
So spake he, and the goddess, gray-eyed Athene, smiled, and caressed him with her hand ; and straightway she changed to the semblance of a woman, fair and tall, and skilled in splendid handiwork. And uttering her voice she spake unto him winged words : —
" Crafty must he be and knavish, who would outdo thee in all manner of guile, even if it were a god encountered thee. Hardy man, subtle of wit, of guile insatiate, so thou wast not even in thine own country to cease from thy sleights and knavish words, which thou lovest from the bottom of thine heart! But come, no more let us tell of these things, being both of us practiced in deceits, for that thou art of all men far the first in counsel and in discourse, and I in the company of all the gods win renown for my wit and wile. Yet thou knewest not me, Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, who am always by thee and guard thee in all adventures. Yea, and I made thee to be beloved of all the Phaeacians. And now am I come hither to contrive a plot with thee and to hide away the goods, that by my counsel and design the noble Phseacians gave thee on thy homeward way. And I would tell thee how great a measure of trouble thou art ordained to fulfill within thy well-builded house. But do thou harden thy heart, for so it must be, and tell none neither man nor woman of all the folk, that thou hast indeed returned from wandering, but in silence endure much sorrow, submitting thee to the despite of men. "
" And Odysseus of many counsels answered her, saying :
Hard is it, goddess, for a mortal man that meets thee to discern thee, howsoever wise he be ; for thou takest upon thee every shape. But this I know well, that of old thou wast kindly to me, so long as we sons of the Achaeans made war in Troy. But so soon as we had sacked the steep city of
THE STORY OF NAUSICAA.
273
Priam and had gone on board our ships, and the god had scattered the Achaeans, thereafter I have never beheld thee, daughter of Zeus, nor seen thee coming on board my ship, to ward off sorrow from me. But I wandered evermore with a stricken heart, till the gods delivered me from my evil case, even till the day when, within the fat land of the men of Phaeacia, thou didst comfort me with thy words, and thyself didst lead me to their city. And now I beseech thee in thy father's name to tell me : for I deem not that I am come to clear-seen Ithaca, but I roam over some other land, and me- thinks that thou speakest thus to mock me and beguile my mind. Tell me whether in very deed I am come to mine own dear country. "
Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athene, answered him : "Yea, such a thought as this is ever in thy breast. Wherefore I may in no wise leave thee in all thy grief, so wary art thou, so ready of wit and so prudent. Right gladly would any other man on his return from wandering have hasted to behold his children and his wife in his halls ; but thou hast no will to learn or to hear aught, till thou hast furthermore made trial of thy wife, who sits as ever in her halls, and wearily for her the nights wane always and the days, in shedding of tears. But of this I never doubted, but ever knew it in my heart that thou wouldest come home with the loss of all thy company. Yet, I tell thee, I had no mind to be at strife with Poseidon, my own father's brother, who laid up wrath in his heart against thee, being angered at the blinding of his dear son. But come, and I will show thee the place of the dwelling of Ithaca, that thou mayst be assured. Lo, here is the haven of Phorcys, the ancient one of the sea, and here at the haven's head is the olive tree with spreading leaves, and hard by it is the pleasant cave and shadowy, sacred to the nymphs that are called the Naiads. Yonder, behold, is the roofed cavern, where thou offeredst many an acceptable sacrifice of hecatombs to the nymphs ; and lo, this hill is Neriton, all clothed in forest. "
Therewith the goddess scattered the mist, and the land appeared. Then the steadfast goodly Odysseus was glad, rejoicing in his own land, and he kissed the earth, the grain giver. And anon he prayed to the nymphs, and lifted up his hands, saying : —
" Ye Naiad nymphs, daughters of Zeus, never did I think to look on you again, but now be ye greeted in my loving
vol. n. —18
274 GLAUCUS AND CIRCE.
prayers : yea and gifts as aforetime I will give, if the daugh ter of Zeus, driver of the spoil, suffer me of her grace myself to live, and bring my dear son to manhood. "
" Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athene, spake to him again :
Be of good courage, and let not thy heart be careful about these things. But come, let us straightway set thy goods in the secret place of the wondrous cave, that there they may abide for thee safe. And let us for ourselves advise us how all may be for the very best. "
Therewith the goddess plunged into the shadowy cave, searching out the chambers of the cavern. Meanwhile Odys seus brought up his treasure, the gold and the unyielding bronze and fair woven raiment, which the Phseacians gave him. And these things he laid by with care, and Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, lord of the aegis, set a stone against the door of the cave. Then they twain sat down by the trunk of the sacred olive tree, and devised death for the froward wooers.
GLAUCUS AND CIRCE. By JOHN KEATS.
(From " Endymion. ")
[John Keats : An English poet, sometimes called " The Poets' Poet "; born at Moorsfleld, London, October 31, 1795 ; died at Rome, Italy, February 23, 1821. His first poem, " Endymion," was issued when he was twenty-three. It has beautiful passages, but the story is very difficult to follow, and is mainly a vehicle for luscious verbal music. Its promise was more than fulfilled in his second volume, published in 1820, and containing many noble sonnets, the im mortal "Ode on a Grecian Urn," "The Eve of St. Agnes," etc. His highest flight was reached in the sublime " Hyperion," but he had no constructive im agination and let it drop after the first canto. He had enormous effect on the coming poets of his time, and Tennyson was his thoroughgoing disciple. The "Love Letters to Fanny Brawne" appeared in 1878 ; his " Letters to his Family and Friends " in 1891. ]
Ah, Scylla fair ! Why did poor Glaucus ever — ever dare
To sue thee to his heart ? Kind stranger youth ! I loved her to the very white of truth,
And she would not conceive it. Timid thing! She fled me swift as sea bird on the wing,
Round every isle, and point, and promontory, From where large Hercules wound up his story
GLAUCUS AND CIKCE.
Far as Egyptian Nile. My passion grew The more, the more I saw her dainty hue Gleam delicately through the azure clear: Until 'twas too fierce agony to bear;
And in that agony, across my grief —
It flashed, that Circe might find some relief
Cruel enchantress ! So above the water
I reared my head, and looked for Phoebus' daughter. j? Eaea's isle was wondering at the moon : —
It seemed to vhirl around me, and a swoon Left me dead drifting to that fatal power.
When I awoke, 'twas in a twilight bower ;
Just when the light of morn, with hum of bees, Stole through its verdurous matting of fresh trees. How sweet, and sweeter ! for I heard a lyre,
And over it a sighing voice expire.
It ceased —
The fairest face that morn e'er looked upon Pushed through a screen of roses. Starry Jove ! With tears, and smiles, and honey words she wove A net whose thraldom was more bliss than all
The range of flowered Elysium. Thus did fall The dew of her rich speech :
I caught light footsteps ; and anon
"Ah! Art awake? 0 let me hear thee speak, for Cupid's sake !
1 am so oppressed with joy ! Why, I have shed An urn of tears, as though thou wert cold dead; And now I find thee living, I will pour
From these devoted eyes their silver store, Until exhausted of the latest drop,
So it will pleasure thee, and force thee stop Here, that I too may live : but if beyond
Such cool and sorrowful offerings, thou art fond Of soothing warmth, of dalliance supreme ;
If thou art ripe to taste a long love dream ; If smiles, if dimples, tongues for ardor mute, Hang in thy vision like a tempting fruit,
O let me pluck it for thee. "
Thus she linked Her charming syllables, till indistinct
Their music came to my o'er-sweetened soul ; And then she hovered over me, and stole
So near, that if no nearer it had been
This furrowed visage thou hadst never seen.
GLAUCUS AND CIRCE.
Young man of Latmus ! thus particular
Am I, that thou may'st plainly see how far
This fierce temptation went : and thou mayst not Exclaim, How then, was Scylla quite forgot ?
Who could resist ? Who in this universe ? She did so breathe ambrosia ; so immerse
My fine existence in a golden clime.
She took me like a child of suckling time, And cradled me in roses. Thus condemned, The current of my former life was stemmed, And to this arbitrary queen of sense
I bowed a tranced vassal ; nor would thence
Have moved, even though Amphion's harp had wooed Me back to Scylla o'er the billows rude.
For as Apollo each eve doth devise
A new appareling for western skies ;
So every eve, nay every spendthrift hour
Shed balmy consciousness within that bower.
And I was free of haunts umbrageous ;
Could wander in the mazy forest house
Of squirrels, foxes shy, and antlered deer,
And birds from coverts innermost and drear Warbling for very joy mellifluous sorrow —
To me new-born delights !
Now let me borrow, For moments few, a temperament as stern
As Pluto's scepter, that my words not burn These uttering lips, while I in calm speech tell How specious heaven was changed to real hell.
One morn she left me sleeping : half awake
I sought for her smooth arms and lips, to slake My greedy thirst with nectarous camel draughts ; But she was gone. Whereat the barbed shafts
Of disappointment stuck in me so sore
That out I ran and searched the forest o'er. Wandering about in pine and cedar gloom
Damp awe assailed me ; for there 'gan to boom
A sound of moan, an agony of sound,
Sepulchral from the distance all around.
Then came a conquering earth thunder, and rumbled That fierce complain to silence : while I stumbled Down a precipitous path, as if impelled.
I
came to a dark valley.
GLAUCUS AND CIKCE.
Groanings swelled Poisonous about my ears, and louder grew,
The nearer I approached a flame's gaunt blue, That glared before me through a thorny brake. This fire, like the eye of gordian snake, Bewitched me towards ; and I soon was near
A sight too fearful for the feel of fear :
In thicket hid I cursed the haggard scene — The banquet of my arms, my arbor queen,
Seated upon an uptorn forest root ;
And all around her shapes, wizard and brute, Laughing, and wailing, groveling, serpenting, Showing tooth, tusk, and venom bag, and sting I O such deformities ! Old Charon's self,
Should he give up awhile his penny pelf,
And take a dream 'mong rushes Stygian,
It could not be so phantasied. Fierce, wan,
And tyrannizing was the lady's look,
As over them a gnarled staff she shook.
Ofttimes upon the sudden she laughed out,
And from a basket emptied to the rout
Clusters of grapes, the which they ravened quick And roared for more ; with many a hungry lick About their shaggy jaws. Avenging, slow,
Anon she took a branch of mistletoe,
And emptied on't a black dull-gurgling phial : Groaned one and all, as if some piercing trial
Was sharpening for their pitiable bones.
She lifted up the charm : appealing groans
From their poor breasts went suing to her ear
In vain ; remorseless as an infant's bier
She whisked against their eyes the sooty oil. Whereat was heard a noise of painful toil, Increasing gradual to a tempest rage,
Shrieks, yells, and groans of torture pilgrimage ; Until their grieved bodies 'gan to bloat
And puff from the tail's end to stifled throat : Then was appalling silence : then a sight
More wildering than all that hoarse affright ;
For the whole herd, as by a whirlwind writhen, Went through the dismal air like one huge Python Antagonizing Boreas, — and so vanished.
Yet there was not a breath of wind : she banished These phantoms with a nod. Lo ! from the dark Come waggish fauns, and nymphs, and satyrs stark,
GLAUCUS AND CIRCE.
With dancing and loud revelry, — and went Swifter than centaurs after rapine bent. — Sighing, an elephant appeared and bowed Before the fierce witch, speaking thus aloud In human accent : " Potent goddess ! chief Of pains resistless ! make my being brief, Or let me from this heavy prison fly :
Or give me to the air, or let me die !
I
I
I sue not for my lone, my widowed wife ;
I sue not for my ruddy drops of life,
My children fair, my lovely girls and boys !
sue not for my happy crown again ; sue not for my phalanx on the plain ;
I will forget them ; —
I will pass these joys ;
Ask naught so heavenward, so too
Only I pray, as fairest boon, to die,
Or be delivered from this cumbrous flesh,
From this gross, detestable, filthy mesh,
And merely given to the cold, bleak air. * Have mercy, goddess I Circe, feel my prayer !
That curst magician's name fell icy numb Upon my wild conjecturing : truth had come Naked and saberlike against my heart.
I saw a fury whetting a death dart ;
And my slain spirit, overwrought with fright, Fainted away in that dark lair of night.
Think, my deliverer, how desolate
My waking must have been I disgust, and hate, And terrors manifold divided me
A spoil amongst them. I prepared to flee
Into the dungeon core of that wild wood :
I fled three days — when lo ! before me stood Glaring the angry witch. O Dis, even now,
A clammy dew is bending on my brow,
At mere remembering her pale laugh, and curse. "Ha! ha! Sir Dainty! there must be a nurse Made of rose leaves and thistledown, express, To cradle thee, my sweet, and lull thee : yes,
I am too flinty-hard for thy nice touch :
My tenderest squeeze is but a giant's clutch.
So, fairy thing, it shall have lullabies
Unheard of yet ; and it shall still its cries Upon some breast more lily feminine.
Oh, no — it shall not pine, and pine, and pine
too high:
GLAUCUS AND CIRCE.
More than one pretty, trifling thousand years ; And then 'twere pity, but fate's gentle shears Cut short its immortality. Sea flirt !
Young dove of the waters ! truly I'll not hurt One hair of thine : see how I weep and sigh, That our heart-broken parting is so nigh.
And must we part ? Ah, yes, it must be so.
Yet, ere thou leavest me in utter woe,
Let me sob over thee my last adieus,
. And speak a blessing. Mark me ! Thou hast thews Immortal, for thou art of heavenly race ;
But such a love is mine, that here I chase Eternally away from thee all bloom
Of youth, and destine thee towards a tomb. Hence shalt thou quickly to the watery vast ; And there, ere many days be overpast, Disabled age shall seize thee ; and even then Thou shalt not go the way of aged men ;
But live and wither, cripple and still breathe Ten hundred years ; which gone, I then bequeath Thy fragile bones to unknown burial.
Adieu, sweet love, adieu ! "
As shot stars fall, She fled ere I could groan for mercy. Stung
And poisoned was my spirit : despair sung
A war song of defiance 'gainst all hell.
A hand was at my shoulder to compel
My sullen steps ; another 'fore my eyes Moved on with pointed finger. In this guise Enforced, at the last by ocean's foam
I found me ; by my fresh, my native home. Its tempering coolness, to my life akin,
Came salutary as I waded in ;
And, with a blind, voluptuous rage,
Battle to the swollen billow ridge, and drave
Large froth before me, while there yet remained Hale strength, nor from my bones all marrow drained.
Young lover, I must weep — such hellish spite With dry cheek who can tell ? While thus my might Proving upon this element, dismayed,
Upon a dead thing's face my hand I laid ;
I looked — 'twas Scylla! Cursed, cursed Circe!
O vulture witch, hast never heard of mercy ?
I
gave
280
THE STRAYED REVELER.
Could not thy harshest vengeance be content, But thou must nip this tender innocent Because I loved her ? — Cold, O cold indeed Were her fair limbs, and like a common weed The sea swell took her hair. Dead as she was I clung about her waist, nor ceased to pass Fleet as an arrow through unfathomed brine, Until there shone a fabric crystalline,
Ribbed and inlaid with coral, pebble, and pearl. Headlong I darted ; at one eager swirl
Gained its bright portal, entered, and behold I 'Twas vast, and desolate, and icy cold ;
And all around — But wherefore this to thee,
Who, in few minutes more, thyself shalt see ? —
I left poor Scylla in a niche and fled.
My fevered parchings up, my scathing dread
Met palsy halfway; soon these limbs became Gaunt, withered, sapless, feeble, cramped, and lame.
THE STRAYED REVELER.
By MATTHEW ARNOLD.
[For biographical sketch, see Principles of Homeric Translation. ]
Scene : The Portico of Circe's Palace. Evening. Present : A Youth,
Ciece.
The Youth — Faster, faster,
O Circe, Goddess,
Let the wild, thronging train, The bright procession
Of eddying forms,
Sweep through my soul !
Thou standest, smiling
Down on me ! thy right arm,
Leaned up against the column there, Props thy soft cheek ;
Thy left holds, hanging loosely,
The deep cup, ivy-cinctured,
1 held but now.
Circe —
THE STRAYED REVELER.
Is it then evening
So soon ? I see, the night dews, Clustered in thick beads, dim The agate brooch stones
On thy white shoulder;
The cool night wind, too,
Blows through the portico,
Stirs thy hair, Goddess,
Waves thy white robe !
Whence art thou, sleeper ?
The Youth — When the white dawn first Through the rough fir planks Of my hut, by the chestnuts,
Circe —
Thy palace, Goddess, Smokeless, empty !
Trembling, I entered; beheld The court all silent,
The lions sleeping,
On the altar this bowl.
I drank, Goddess !
And sank down here, sleeping, On the steps of thy portico.
Foolish boy ! Why tremblest thou ? Thou lovest then, my wine
Wouldst more of See, how glows,
Up at the valley head,
Came breaking, Goddess !
I sprang up, I threw round me
My dappled fawn skin ;
Passing out, from the wet turf,
Where they lay, by the hut door,
I snatched up my vine crown, my fir staff, All drenched in dew —
Came swift down to join
The rout early gathered
In the town, round the temple,
Iacchus' white fane
On yonder hill.
Quick I passed, following The woodcutters' cart track
I saw On my left, through the beeches,
Down the dark valley ; —
it ?
it,
?
282
THE STRAYED REVELER.
Through the delicate, flushed marble, The red, creaming liquor,
Strown with dark seeds !
Drink, then !
I chide thee not, Deny thee not my bowl.
Come, stretch forth thy hand, then Drink — drink again !
The Youth — Thanks, gracious one ! — Ah, the sweet fumes again !
—
so!
Circe —
Ulysses —
More soft, ah me,
More subtle-winding Than Pan's flute music ! Faint — faint ! Ah me, Again the sweet sleep !
Hist! Thou — within there! Come forth, Ulysses !
Art tired with hunting ? While we range the woodland, See what the day brings.
Circe —
Ever new magic !
Hast thou then lured hither,
Wonderful Goddess, by thy art,
The young, languid-eyed Ampelus,
Iacchus' darling —
Or some youth beloved of Pan,
Of Pan and the Nymphs ?
That he sits, bending downward
His white, delicate neck
To the ivy-wreathed marge
Of thy cup ; the bright, glancing vine leaves That crown his hair,
Falling forward, mingling —
With the dark ivy plants
His fawn skin, half untied,
Smeared with red wine stains ?
That he sits, overweighed
By fumes of wine and sleep,
So late, in thy portico ?
What youth, Goddess, — what guest
Of Gods or mortals ?
Hist ! he wakes !
I lured him not hither, Ulysses. Nay, ask him !
Who is he,
THE STRAYED REVELER. 283
The Youth — Who speaks ! Ah, who comes forth To thy side, Goddess, from within ?
Ulysses —
How shall I name him ? This spare, dark-featured,
Quick-eyed stranger ?
Ah, and I see too
His sailor's bonnet,
His short coat, travel-tarnished, With one arm bare ! —
Art thou not he, whom fame
This long time rumors
The favored guest of Circe, brought by the waves ? Art thou he, stranger ?
The wise Ulysses,
Laertes' son ?
I am Ulysses.
And thou, too, sleeper ?
Thy voice is sweet.
It may be thou hast followed
Through the islands some divine bard, By age taught many things,
Age and the Muses ;
And heard him delighting
The chiefs and people
In the banquet, and learned his songs, Of Gods and Heroes,
Of war and arts,
And peopled cities,
Inland, or built
By the gray sea — If so, then hail!
I honor and welcome thee.
The Youth — The Gods are happy. They turn on all sides
Their shining eyes, And see below them The earth and men.
They see Tiresias Sitting, staff in hand, On the warm, grassy Asopus bank,
His robe drawn over His old, sightless head, Revolving inly
The doom of Thebes.
THE STRAYED REVELER.
They see the Centaurs
In the upper glens
Of Pelion, in the streams,
Where red-berried ashes fringe The clear-brown shallow pools, With streaming flanks, and heads Reared proudly, snuffing
The mountain wind.
They see the Indian
Drifting, knife in hand,
His frail boat moored to
A floating isle thick-matted
With large-leaved, low-creeping melon plants, And the dark cucumber.
He reaps, and stows them,
Drifting —drifting ; —round him,
Round his green harvest plot,
Flow the cool lake waves,
The mountains ring them.
They see the Scythian
On the wide stepp, unharnessing
His wheeled house at noon.
He tethers his beast down, and makes his meal — Mares' milk, and bread
Baked on the embers ; — all around
The boundless, waving grass plains stretch, thick-starred With saffron and the yellow hollyhock
And flag-leaved iris flowers.
Sitting in his cart
He makes his meal ; before him, for long miles,
Alive with bright green lizards,
And the springing bustard fowl,
The track, a straight black line,
Furrows the rich soil ; here and there
Clusters of lonely mounds
Topped with rough-hewn,
Gray, rain-bleared statues, overpeer
The sunny waste.
They see the ferry
On the broad, clay-laden —
Lone Chorasmian stream ;
With snort and strain,
Two horses, strongly swimming, tow
thereon,
THE STRAYED REVELER.
The ferryboat, with woven ropes
To either bow
Firm-harnessed by the mane ; a chief, With shout and shaken spear,
285
Stands at the prow, and guides them ; but astern The cowering merchants in long robes
Sit pale beside their wealth
Of silk bales and of balsam drops,
Of gold and ivory,
Of turquoise earth and amethyst,
Jasper and chalcedony,
And milk-barred onyx stones. The loaded boat swings groaning In the yellow eddies ;
The Gods behold them.
They see the Heroes
Sitting in the dark ship
On the foamless, long-heaving, Violet sea,
At sunset nearing
The Happy Islands.
These things, Ulysses, The wise bards also Behold and sing.
But oh, what labor ! O prince, what pain !
They too can see
Tiresias ; — but the Gods, Who give them vision, Added this law :
That they should bear too His groping blindness, His dark foreboding,
His scorned white hairs ; Bear Hera's anger Through a life lengthened To seven ages.
They see the Centaurs
On Pelion ; — then they feel,
They too, the maddening wine
Swell their large veins to bursting ; in wild pain They feel the biting spears
THE STRAYED REVELER.
Of the grim Lapithae, and Theseus, drive, Drive crashing through their bones ; they feel High on a jutting rock in the red stream Alcmena's dreadful son
Ply his bow ; — such a price
The Gods exact for song :
To become what we sing.
They see the Indian —
On his mountain lake;
Make their skiff reel, and worms
In the unkind spring have gnawn
Their melon harvest to the heart — They see The Scythian ; — but long frosts
Parch them in winter time on the bare stepp, Till they too fade like grass ; they crawl Like shadows forth in spring.
They see the merchants
On the Oxus stream ; — but care
Must visit first them too, and make them pale. Whether, through whirling sand,
A cloud of desert robber horse have burst Upon their caravan ; or greedy kings,
In the walled cities the way passes through, Crushed them with tolls ; or fever airs,
On some great river's marge,
Mown them down, far from home.
They see the Heroes
Near harbor ; — but they share
Their lives, and former violent toil in Thebes, Seven-gated Thebes, or Troy ;
Or where the echoing oars
Of Argo first
Startled the unknown sea.
The old Silenus
Came, lolling in the sunshine, From the dewy forest coverts, This way, at noon.
Sitting by me, while his Fauns Down at the water side Sprinkled and smoothed
His drooping garland,
He told me these things.
but squalls
Circe's Palace
CIKCE'S PALACE.
287
But I, Ulysses,
Sitting on the warm steps, Looking over the valley,
All day long, have seen,
Without pain, without labor, Sometimes a wild-haired Maenad Sometimes a Faun with torches — And sometimes, for a moment, Passing through the dark stems Flowing-robed, the beloved,
The desired, the divine,
Beloved Iacchus.
Ah, cool night wind, tremulous stars! Ah, glimmering water,
Fitful earth murmur,
Dreaming woods !
Ah, golden-haired, strangely smiling Goddess, And thou, proved, much enduring, Wave-tossed Wanderer I
Who can stand still ? —
Ye fade, ye swim, ye waver before me The cup again 1
Faster, faster, O Circe, Goddess,
Let the wild, thronging train, The bright procession
Of eddying forms,
Sweep through my soul !
CIRCE'S PALACE.
By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.
—
[Nathaniel Hawthorne : American story-writer ; born at Salem, Mass. , July 4, 1804 ; died at Plymouth, N. H. , May 19, 1864. His official positions, in the customhouse at Salem and as United States consul at Liverpool, furnished him with many opportunities for the study of human nature. His literary popularity was of slow growth, but was founded on the eternal verities. His most famous novels are " The Scarlet Letter " (1850), " The House of the Seven Gables" (1851), " The Blithedale Romance " (1852), "The MarbleFaun" (1860), " Septimius Felton," posthumous. He wrote a great number of short stories, inimitable in style and full of weird imagination. "Twice-told Tales," first
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series appeared in 1837 ; "The Snow Image and Other Twice-told Tales," in 1852; " Tanglewood Tales," in 1853. ]
Some of you have heard, no doubt, of the wise King Ulysses, and how he went to the siege of Troy, and how, after the famous city was taken and burned, he spent ten long years in trying to get back again to his own little kingdom of Ithaca. At one time in the course of this weary voyage, he arrived at an island that looked very green and pleasant, but the name of which was un known to him. For, only a little while before he came thither, he had met with a terrible hurricane, or rather a great many hurricanes at once, which drove his fleet of vessels into a strange part of the sea, where neither himself nor any of his mariners had ever sailed. This misfortune was entirely owing to the foolish curiosity of his shipmates, who, while Ulysses lay asleep, had untied some very bulky leathern bags, in which they sup posed a valuable treasure to be concealed. But in each of these stout bags, King . <Eolus, the ruler of the winds, had tied up a tempest, and had given it to Ulysses to keep, in order that he might be sure of a favorable passage homeward to Ithaca ;
and when the strings were loosened, forth rushed the whis tling blasts, like air out of a blown bladder, whitening the sea with foam, and scattering the vessels nobody could tell whither.
Immediately after escaping from this peril, a still greater one had befallen him. Scudding before the hurricane, he reached a place which, as he afterwards found, was called Laestrygonia, where some monstrous giants had eaten up many of his com panions, and had sunk every one of his vessels, except that in which he himself sailed, by flinging great masses of rock at them, from the cliffs along the shore. After going through such troubles as these, you cannot wonder that King Ulysses was glad to moor his tempest-beaten bark in a quiet cove of the green island which I began with telling you about. But he had encountered so many dangers from giants, and one-eyed Cyclopes, and monsters of the sea and land, that he could not help dreading some mischief, even in this pleasant and seem ingly solitary spot. For two days, therefore, the poor weather worn voyagers kept quiet, and either stayed on board of their vessel, or merely crept along under cliffs that bordered the shore ; and to keep themselves alive they dug shellfish out of
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the sand, and sought for any little rill of fresh water that might be running towards the sea.
Before the two days were spent, they grew very weary of this kind of life ; for the followers of King Ulysses, as you will find it important to remember, were terrible gormandizers, and pretty sure to grumble if they missed their regular meals, and their irregular ones besides. Their stock of provisions was quite exhausted, and even the shellfish began to get scarce, so that they had now to choose between starving to death or ven turing into the interior of the island, where, perhaps, some huge three-headed dragon, or other horrible monster, had his den. Such misshapen creatures were very numerous in those days ; and nobody ever expected to make a voyage, or take a journey, without running more or less risk of being devoured by them.
But King Ulysses was a bold man as well as a prudent one ; and on the third morning he determined to discover what sort of a place the island was, and whether it were possible to obtain a supply of food for the hungry mouths of his companions. So, taking a spear in his hand, he clambered to the summit of a cliff, and gazed round about him. At a distance, towards the center of the island, he beheld the stately towers of what seemed to be a palace, built of snow-white marble, and rising in the midst of a grove of lofty trees. The thick branches of these trees stretched across the front of the edifice, and more than half concealed it, although, from the portion which he saw, Ulysses judged it to be spacious and exceedingly beautiful, and probably the residence of some great nobleman or prince. A blue smoke went curling up from the chimney, and was almost the pleasantest part of the spectacle to Ulysses. For, from the abundance of this smoke, it was reasonable to conclude that there was a good fire in the kitchen, and that, at dinner time, a plentiful banquet would be served up to the inhabitants of the palace, and to whatever guests might happen to drop in.
With so agreeable a prospect before him, Ulysses fancied that he could not do better than to go straight to the palace gate, and tell the master of it that there was a crew of poor shipwrecked mariners, not far off, who had eaten nothing for a day or two save a few clams and oysters, and would therefore be thankful for a little food. And the prince or nobleman must be a very stingy curmudgeon, to be sure, at least, when
vol. n. — 19
if,
290 CIRCE'S PALACE.
his own dinner was over, he would not bid them welcome to the broken victuals from the table.
Pleasing himself with this idea, King Ulysses had made a few steps in the direction of the palace, when there was a great twittering and chirping from the branch of a neighboring tree. A moment afterwards, a bird came flying towards him, and hovered in the air, so as almost to brush his face with its wings. It was a very pretty little bird, with purple wings and body, and yellow legs, aDd a circle of golden feathers round its neck, and on its head a golden tuft, which looked like a king's crown in miniature. Ulysses tried to catch the bird. But it fluttered nimbly out of his reach, still chirping in a piteous tone, as if it could have told a lamentable story, had it only been gifted with human language. And when he attempted to drive it away, the bird flew no farther than the bough of the next tree, and again came fluttering about his head, with its doleful chirp, as soon as he showed a purpose of going forward. "
"Have you anything to tell me, little bird? asked Ulysses.
And he was ready to listen attentively to whatever the bird might communicate ; for at the siege of Troy, and elsewhere, he had known such odd things to happen, that he would not have considered it much out of the common run had this little feathered creature talked as plainly as himself.
" Peep ! " said the bird, " peep, peep, pe—weep ! " And nothing else would it say, but only, " Peep, peep, pe—weep ! " in a melancholy cadence, and over and over and over again. As often as Ulysses moved forward, however, the bird showed the greatest alarm, and did its best to drive him back, with the anxious flutter of its purple wings. Its unaccountable behavior made him conclude, at last, that the bird knew of some danger that awaited him, and which must needs be very terrible, be yond all question, since it moved even a little fowl to feel com passion for a human being. So he resolved, for the present, to return to the vessel, and tell his companions what he had seen.
This appeared to satisfy the bird. As soon as Ulysses turned back, it ran up the trunk of a tree, and began to pick insects out of the bark with its long, sharp bill ; for it was a kind of woodpecker, you must know, and had to get its living in the same manner as other birds of that species. But every little while, as it pecked at the bark of the tree, the purple bird bethought itself of some secret sorrow, and repeated its plain tive note of " Peep, peep, pe — weep ! "
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On his way to the shore, Ulysses had the good luck to kill a large stag by thrusting his spear into its back. Taking it on his shoulders (for he was a remarkably strong man), he lugged it along with him, and flung it down before his hungry com panions. I have already hinted to you what gormandizers some of the comrades of King Ulysses were. From what is related of them, I reckon that their favorite diet was pork, and that they had lived upon it until a good part of their physical substance was swine's flesh, and their tempers and dispositions were very much akin to the hog. A dish of venison, however, was no unacceptable meal to them, especially after feeding so long on oysters and clams. So, beholding the dead stag, they felt of its ribs in a knowing way, and lost no time in kindling a fire, of driftwood, to cook it.
