The Iliad and the Odyssey (Classics of World Literature) (86 page)

Ulysses joy’d to hear that one man yet

Us’d him benignly, and would truth abet

In those contentions; and then thus smooth

He took his speech down: ‘Reach me that now, youth,

You shall, and straight, I think, have one such more,

And one beyond it too. And now, whose core

Stands sound and great within him, since ye have

Thus put my spleen up, come again and brave

The guest ye tempted with such gross disgrace,

At wrestling, buffets, whirlbat, speed of race.

At all or either, I except at none,

But urge the whole state of you; only one

I will not challenge in my forced boast,

And that’s Laodamas, for he’s mine host.

And who will fight, or wrangle, with his friend?

Unwise he is, and base, that will contend

With him that feeds him, in a foreign place,

And takes all edge off from his own sought grace.

None else except I here, nor none despise,

But wish to know, and prove his faculties,

That dares appear now. No strife ye can name

Am I unskill’d in; reckon any game

Of all that are, as many as there are

In use with men. For archery I dare

Affirm myself not mean. Of all a troop

I’ll make the first foe with mine arrow stoop,

Though with me ne’er so many fellows bend

Their bows at mark’d men, and affect their end.

Only was Philoctetes with his bow

Still my superior, when we Greeks would show

Our archery against our foes of Troy.

But all, that now by bread frail life enjoy,

I far hold my inferiors. Men of old,

None now alive shall witness me so bold

To vaunt equality with, such men as these –

Oechalian Eurytus, Hercules,

Who with their bows durst with the gods contend,

And therefore caught Eurytus soon his end,

Nor died at home, in age, a reverend man,

But by the great incensed Delphian

Was shot to death, for daring competence

With him in all an archer’s excellence.

A spear I’ll hurl as far as any man

Shall shoot a shaft. How at a race I can

Bestir my feet, I only yield to fear,

And doubt to meet with my superior here.

So many seas so too much have misus’d

My limbs for race, and therefore have diffus’d

A dissolution through my loved knees.’

This said, he still’d all talking properties;

Alcinous only answer’d: ‘O my guest,

In good part take we what you have been press
’
d

With speech to answer. You would make appear

Your virtues therefore, that will still shine where

Your only look is. Yet must this man give

Your worth ill language, when he does not live

In sort of mortals (whencesoe’er he springs,

That judgment hath to speak becoming things)

That will deprave your virtues. Note then now

My speech, and what my love presents to you,

That you may tell heroës, when you come

To banquet with your wife and birth at home,

(Mindful of our worth) what deservings Jove

Hath put on our parts likewise, in remove

From sire to son, as an inherent grace

Kind, and perpetual. We must needs give place

To other countrymen, and freely yield

We are not blameless in our fights of field,

Buffets, nor wrestlings; but in speed of feet,

And all the equipage that fits a fleet,

We boast us best; for table ever spread

With neighbour feasts, for garments varied,

For poesy, music, dancing, baths, and beds.

And now, Phaeacians, you that bear your heads

And feet with best grace in enamouring dance,

Enflame our guest here, that he may advance

Our worth past all the world’s to his home friends,

As well for the unmatch’d grace that commends

Your skill in footing of a dance, as theirs

That fly a race best. And so, all affairs,

At which we boast us best, he best may try,

As sea-race, land-race, dance, and poesy.

Some one with instant speed to court retire,

And fetch Demodocus his soundful lyre.’

This said the god-grac’d king; and quick resort

Pontonous made for that fair harp to court.

Nine of the lot-choos’d public rulers rose,

That all in those contentions did dispose,

Commanding a most smooth ground, and a wide,

And all the people in fair game aside.

Then with the rich harp came Pontonous,

And in the midst took place Demodocus.

About him then stood forth the choice young men,

That on man’s first youth made fresh entry then,

Had art to make their natural motion sweet,

And shook a most divine dance from their feet,

That twinkled starlike, mov’d as swift and fine,

And beat the air so thin, they made it shine.

Ulysses wonder’d at it, but amaz’d

He stood in mind to hear the dance so phras’d.

For as they danc’d, Demodocus did sing

The bright-crown’d Venus’ love with Battle’s King;

As first they closely mixed in th’ house of fire,

What worlds of gifts won her to his desire;

Who then the night-and-day-bed did defile

Of good king Vulcan. But in little while

The Sun their mixture saw, and came and told.

The bitter news did by his ears take hold

Of Vulcan’s heart. Then to his forge he went,

And in his shrewd mind deep stuff did invent.

His mighty anvil in the stock he put,

And forg’d a net that none could loose or cut,

That when it had them it might hold them fast.

Which having finish’d, he made utmost haste

Up to the dear room where his wife he woo’d,

And, madly wrath with Mars, he all bestrow’d

The bed, and bedposts, all the beam above

That cross’d the chamber; and a circle strove

Of his device to wrap in all the room.

And ’twas as pure, as of a spider’s loom

The woof before ’tis wov’n. No man nor god

Could set his eye on it, a sleight so odd

His art show’d in it. All his craft bespent

About the bed, he feign’d as if he went

To well-built Lemnos, his most loved town

Of all towns earthly; nor left this unknown

To golden-bridle-using Mars, who kept

No blind watch over him, but, seeing stepp
’
d

His rival so aside, he hasted home,

With fair-wreath’d Venus’ love stung, who was come

New from the court of her most mighty sire.

Mars enter’d, wrung her hand, and the retire

Her husband made to Lemnos told, and said:

‘Now, love, is Vulcan gone, let us to bed;

He’s for the barbarous Sintians.’ Well appay’d

Was Venus with it, and afresh assay’d

Their old encounter. Down they went, and straight

About them cling’d the artificial sleight

Of most wise Vulcan; and were so ensnar’d,

That neither they could stir their course prepar’d

In any limb about them, nor arise.

And then they knew they would no more disguise

Their close conveyance, but lay, forc’d, stone still.

Back rush’d the both-foot-cook’d, but straight in skill,

From his near scout-hole turn’d, nor ever went

To any Lemnos, but the sure event

Left Phoebus to discover, who told all.

Then home hopp’d Vulcan, full of grief and gall,

Stood in the portal, and cried out so high,

That all the gods heard: ‘Father of the sky

And every other deathless god,’ said he,

‘Come all, and a ridiculous object see,

And yet not sufferable neither. Come,

And witness how, when still I step from home,

Lame that I am, Jove’s daughter doth profess

To do me all the shameful offices,

Indignities, despites, that can be thought;

And loves this all-things-making-come-to-nought,

Since he is fair forsooth, foot-sound, and I

Took in my brain a little, legg’d awry;

And no fault mine, but all my parent’s fault,

Who should not get, if mock me with my halt.

But see how fast they sleep, while I, in moan,

Am only made an idle looker-on.

One bed their turn serves, and it must be mine;

I think yet, I have made their self-loves shine.

They shall no more wrong me, and none perceive.

Nor will they sleep together, I believe,

With too hot haste again. Thus both shall lie

In craft, and force, till the extremity

Of all the dow’r I gave her sire (to gain

A dogged set-fac’d girl, that will not stain

Her face with blushing, though she shame her head)

He pays me back. She’s fair, but was no maid.’

While this long speech was making, all were come

To Vulcan’s wholly-brazen-founded home,

Earth-shaking Neptune, useful Mercury,

And far-shot Phoebus. No she-deity,

For shame, would show there. All the give-good gods

Stood in the portal, and past periods

Gave length to laughters, all rejoic’d to see

That which they said, that no impiety

Finds good success at th’ end. ‘And now,’ said one,

‘The slow outgoes the swift. Lame Vulcan, known

To be the slowest of the gods, outgoes

Mars the most swift. And this is that which grows

To greatest justice: that adult’ry’s sport,

Obtain’d by craft, by craft of other sort

(And lame craft too) is plagu’d, which grieves the more,

That sound limbs turning lame the lame restore.’

This speech amongst themselves they entertain’d,

When Phoebus thus ask’d Hermes: ‘Thus enchain’d

Wouldst thou be, Hermes, to be thus disclos
’
d,

Though with thee golden Venus were repos’d?’

He soon gave that an answer: ‘O,’ said he,

‘Thou king of archers, would ’twere thus with me.

Though thrice so much shame, nay, though infinite

Were pour’d about me, and that every light,

In great heav’n shining, witness’d all my harms,

So golden Venus slumber’d in mine arms.’

The gods again laugh’d; even the Wat’ry State

Wrung out a laughter, but propitiate

Was still for Mars, and pray’d the god of fire

He would dissolve him, offering the desire

He made to Jove to pay himself, and said,

All due debts should be by the gods repaid.

‘Pay me no words,’ said he. ‘Where deeds lend pain,

Wretched the words are giv’n for wretched men.

How shall I bind you in th’ immortals’ sight,

If Mars be once loos’d, nor will pay his right?’

‘Vulcan,’ said he, ‘if Mars should fly, nor see

Thy right repaid, it should be paid by me.’

‘Your word, so giv’n, I must accept,’ said he.

Which said, he loos’d them. Mars then rush’d from sky

And stoop’d cold Thrace. The laughing deity

For Cyprus was, and took her Paphian state,

Where she a grove, ne’er cut, had consecrate,

All with Arabian odours fum’d, and hath

An altar there, at which the Graces bathe,

And with immortal balms besmooth her skin,

Fit for the bliss immortals solace in,

Deck her in to-be-studied attire,

And apt to set beholders’ hearts on fire.

This sung the sacred muse, whose notes and words

The dancers’ feet kept as his hands his chords.

Ulysses much was pleased, and all the crew.

This would the king have varied with a new

And pleasing measure, and performed by

Two, with whom none would strive in dancery;

And those his sons were, that must therefore dance

Alone, and only to the harp advance,

Without the words. And this sweet couple was

Young Halius and divine Laodamas;

Who danc’d a ball dance. Then the rich-wrought ball,

That Polybus had made, of purple all,

They took to hand. One threw it to the sky

And then danc’d back; the other, capering high,

Would surely catch it ere his foot touch’d ground,

And up again advanc’d it, and so found

The other cause of dance; and then did he

Dance lofty tricks, till next it came to be

His turn to catch, and serve the other still.

When they had kept it up to either’s will,

They then danc’d ground tricks, oft mix’d hand in hand,

And did so gracefully their change command,

That all the other youth that stood at pause,

With dea
f
’
ning shouts, gave them the great applause.

Then said Ulysses: ‘O, past all men here

Clear, not in pow’r, but in desert as clear,

You said your dancers did the world surpass,

And they perform it clear, and to amaze.’

This won Alcinous’ heart, and equal prize

He gave Ulysses, saying: ‘Matchless wise,

Princes and rulers, I perceive our guest,

And therefore let our hospitable best

In fitting gifts be giv
’
n him: twelve chief kings

There are that order all the glorious things

Of this our kingdom; and, the thirteenth, I

Exist, as crown to all. Let instantly

Be thirteen garments giv’n him, and of gold

Precious and fine, a talent. While we hold

This our assembly, be all fetch’d, and giv’n,

That to our feast prepar’d, as to his heav’n,

Our guest may enter. And, that nothing be

Left unperform’d that fits his dignity,

Euryalus shall here conciliate

Himself with words and gifts, since past our rate

He gave bad language.’ This did all commend

And give in charge; and every king did send

His herald for his gift. Euryalus,

Answering for his part, said: ‘Alcinous,

Our chief of all, since you command, I will