Stories from the Odyssey Part 6

Odysseus acknowledged the courtesy of Euryalus in becoming terms, and then the whole company rose and went back to the palace of Alcinous, where they found the gifts for Odysseus all set in order against his departure. Then Alcinous brought a golden goblet, beautifully fas.h.i.+oned, and richly chased, and bade Arete bring a coffer to hold the gifts. The coffer was displayed, and was in itself a gift of no mean value, being a choice piece of work.

"Now bid thy handmaids prepare a bath for our guest," said Alcinous to his wife, and "Receive this as a memorial of me," he added, placing the goblet in Odysseus' hands, "that thou mayest remember me all the days of thy life, when thou pourest libations to Zeus and the other deathless G.o.ds."

Arete gave the order as required, and while the bath was preparing she arranged all the gifts in the coffer. Then closing the lid she said to Odysseus: "Make all fast with thine own hands, that none may meddle with thy goods as thou liest asleep on thy pa.s.sage across the sea."

Odysseus made fast the cord, securing it with an intricate and cunning knot, which he had learnt from the great sorceress Circe; and when he had finished he was summoned by the eldest of the handmaids to the bath. When he had bathed and put on fresh raiment he came back to the dining-hall; and as he entered he saw Nausicaa leaning against a pillar. Sweet was the maiden's face, and kind her eyes, as she gazed with innocent admiration on the stately figure of her father's guest.

"Farewell, my friend," said she, "and when thou arrivest home think sometimes of her to whom thou owest thy life."

"Fair daughter of Alcinous," answered Odysseus, "if that day ever comes--if I ever see my home again, by favour of Zeus, the lord of Hera--be a.s.sured that I shall remember thee in my prayers, as long as this life which thou hast given me shall last." And so he parted from the maiden, and she went back to her mother's bower.

Odysseus again received a place of honour by the side of Alcinous, and a goodly portion of meat was set before him. Looking round the circle of guests he saw Demodocus, the blind harper, sitting in their midst, and wis.h.i.+ng to show him honour, he cut off a choice piece from the flesh which had been set before him, and bade a servant carry it to the bard, and greet him in the giver's name. The servant did as he was bidden, and Demodocus received the portion of honour with becoming grat.i.tude.

When the banquet was drawing towards its close Odysseus approached the minstrel, and after praising his former lay, which told of the disastrous homeward voyage of the Greeks, he begged him to sing the Lay of the Wooden Horse, the device by which Troy was taken. Demodocus complied, and taking his harp began to chant that famous lay, which told how the Greeks burnt their tents and sailed away, leaving the wooden monster behind them, how the Trojans dragged the horse into the city, and how the fatal engine sent forth its burden of armed men in the night. The name of Odysseus, the arch-plotter, occurred again and again as the tale went on; and once more Odysseus was moved to tears by the memories which the words of the bard awakened.

Alcinous observed his emotion, and called to Demodocus to cease his song. "We vex our guest," he said, "for whose sake we are gathered here. Doubtless the minstrel has touched some hidden spring of sorrow.

But come now," he continued, addressing Odysseus, "we have honoured thee exceedingly, and given thee of our best. Wilt thou not repay us by telling something of thyself? Let us hear thy name, and say of what land and of what city thou art, that our s.h.i.+ps may know whither to steer their course. For know that we mariners of Phaeacia need no pilots nor rudders, but our s.h.i.+ps by their own instinct take us to whatsoever place we would visit, gliding like phantoms, invisible, swift as thought. Nor has any vessel from our ports ever suffered s.h.i.+pwreck or harm.

"Thou likewise hast been a great traveller, and seen many lands and nations, both such as are wild and fierce and such as are gentle and of G.o.dly mind. Tell us then the tale of thy wanderings, and say why thou weepest ever at the name of Troy."

All the guests bent forward with eager faces, and strained their ears to catch Odysseus' answer; for there was something mysterious about this strange guest, something which marked him as a man of no common stamp, and their curiosity, which had hitherto been held in check by the laws of courtesy, was now set free from all restraint by the frank question of Alcinous.

"Ill.u.s.trious prince," answered Odysseus, after a moment's pause, "methinks it were best to sit silent and listen to the sweet voice of the harper; for what better thing has life to offer than a full cup and brave minstrelsy heard at the quiet hour of eventide? But if thou must needs hear a tale of sorrow it is not for me to deny thee. First of all I will tell thee my name. I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, and my name is in all men's mouths because of my deep wit and manifold wiles, yea, the renown thereof reaches even unto heaven. My home is the sunny isle of Ithaca, last in a line of islands lying in the western sea. It is a rugged land, but a nurse of gallant sons; and sweet, ah! very sweet, is the name of home. Never hath my heart been turned from that dear spot, no, not by all the loveliness of Calypso, nor by all the witchery of Circe, but ever I remained faithful to the one lodestar of my life."

Here Odysseus began the wondrous story of his wanderings, which kept his hearers spellbound until far into the night.

The Wanderings of Odysseus

I

After leaving Troy, Odysseus first sailed to the coast of Thrace, and collected a rich booty in a sudden raid on the district. But while his men lingered to enjoy the first-fruits of their spoil, the wild tribes of the neighbourhood rallied their forces, and falling upon the invaders, while they were engaged in a drunken revel, drove them with great slaughter to their s.h.i.+ps. No sooner had they put to sea than a wild tempest came down upon them from the north, and drove them to seek shelter again on the mainland, where they lay for two days and nights in constant dread of another attack from the injured Thracians.

On the third day they set sail again and got as far as Malea, the southernmost headland of Greece. Here they were again driven from their course, and after nine days' tossing on the waves they reached the land of the Lotus-Eaters.

When his men had refreshed themselves, Odysseus sent three of their number to explore the country and learn the manners of the inhabitants. Presently these three came to the dwellings of the Lotus-Eaters, who received them kindly and gave them to eat of the lotus-plant. With the first taste of that magic food the men forgot the purpose for which they had been sent, forgot their friends and their home, and had no desire left in life but to remain there all their days and feast with the Lotus-Eaters. In this state they were found by Odysseus, who compelled them by force, though they wept and complained bitterly, to return to their s.h.i.+ps. There he bound them fast under the benches, and bade the rest take to their oars and fly from that seductive clime, lest others should fall under the same fatal spell.

II

Thence they came to the land of the Cyclopes, a rude and monstrous tribe, but favoured of the immortal G.o.ds, by whose bounty they live.

They toil not, neither do they sow, nor till the ground, but the earth of herself brings forth for them a bountiful living, wheat and barley, and huge swelling cl.u.s.ters of the grape. Naught know they of law or civil life, but each lives in his cave on the wild mountain-side, dwelling apart, careless of his neighbours, with his wife and children.

It was a dark, cloudy night, and a thick mist overspread the sea, when suddenly Odysseus heard the booming of breakers on a rocky sh.o.r.e.

Before an order could be given, or any measure taken for the safety of the s.h.i.+ps, the little fleet was caught by a strong landward current, and whirled pell-mell through a narrow pa.s.sage between the cliffs into a land-locked harbour. Drawing their breath with relief at their wonderful escape, they beached their vessels on the level sand and lay down to wait for the day.

In the morning they found that they had been driven to the landward sh.o.r.e of a long island, which formed a natural breakwater to a s.p.a.cious bay, with a narrow entrance at either end. The island was thickly covered with woods, giving shelter to a mult.i.tude of wild goats, its only inhabitants. For the Cyclopes have no s.h.i.+ps, so that the goats were left in undisturbed possession, though the place was well suited for human habitation, with a deep, rich soil, and plentiful springs of water.

The first care of Odysseus was to supply the crews of his vessels, which were twelve in number, with fresh meat. Armed with bows and spears, he and a picked body of men scoured the woods in search of game. They soon obtained a plentiful booty, and nine goats were a.s.signed to each vessel, with ten for that of Odysseus. So all that day till the setting of the sun they sat and feasted on fat venison and drank of the wine which they had taken in their raid on the Thracians.

Early next morning Odysseus manned his own galley, and set forth to explore the mainland, leaving the rest of the crews to await his return on the island. As they drew near the opposite sh.o.r.e of the bay, the mariners came in view of a gigantic cavern overshadowed by laurel-trees. Round the front of the cavern was a wide court-yard rudely fenced with huge blocks of stone and unhewn trunks of trees.

Having moored his vessel in a sheltered place, Odysseus chose twelve of his men to accompany him on his perilous adventure, and charging the others to keep close, and not stir from the s.h.i.+p, he prepared for his visit to the Cyclops, who dwelt apart from his brethren in the cavern. Amongst the spoils obtained in Thrace was a small store of peculiarly rich and generous wine, which had been given him by a priest of Apollo whom he had protected, with his wife and child, while his men were pillaging the town. Twelve jars of this precious vintage the priest brought forth from a secret hiding-place, known only to himself and his wife and one trusty servant. So potent was the wine that it needed but one measure of it to twenty of water to make a fragrant and comfortable drink, from which few could refrain. Odysseus now filled a great goatskin bottle with this wine, and carried it with him. And well it was for him that he did so.

During the day the Cyclops was abroad, watching his flocks as they grazed on the mountain pastures; so that when Odysseus and his men came to the cavern, they had ample time to look about them. The courtyard was fenced off into pens, well stocked with ewes and she-goats, with their young--huge beasts, rivalling in stature their gigantic shepherd. Within the cavern was a sort of dairy, with great piles of cheeses, and vessels br.i.m.m.i.n.g with whey.

"Quick now," whispered one of the men to Odysseus. "Let us take of the cheeses, and drive off the best of the lambs and kids to the s.h.i.+p before the Cyclops returns; for methinks he will give us but sorry welcome if he finds us here." "Nay," answered Odysseus, "I will wait for the master, that I may see him face to face. It may be that he will bestow on me some gift, such as strangers receive from their hosts." So they remained, and having kindled a fire they prepared savoury meat, and ate of the cheeses which they found in the cave.

Then they waited, until the lengthening shadows showed that evening was drawing near.

While they sat thus, conversing in low tones, and casting fearful glances towards the cavern's mouth, all at once they heard a sound like the trampling of many feet, accompanied by loud bleatings, which were answered by the ewes and she-goats in the courtyard. Then a vast shadow darkened the cavern's entrance, and in came Polyphemus, driving his flock before him. At the sight of that fearful monster, huge as a mountain, with one vast red eye glaring in the middle of his forehead, Odysseus and his comrades fled in terror to the darkest corner of the cave. The Cyclops bore in one hand a mighty log for his evening fire.

Flinging it down with a crash that awakened all the echoes of the cavern, he closed the entrance with an immense ma.s.s of stone, which served as a door. Then he sat down and began to milk the ewes and she-goats. Half of the milk he curdled for cheese, and half he kept for drinking. So when he had strained off the whey, and pressed the curds into wicker-baskets, he kindled a fire, and as the flame blazed up, illumining every corner of the cavern, he caught sight of the intruders, and with a voice which sounded like the roaring of a torrent cried out: "Who are ye that have come to the cave of Polyphemus, and what would ye have of him?"

When he heard that appalling voice, and looked at that horrible face, fitfully lighted up by the blaze of the fire, Odysseus felt his heart stand still with terror. Nevertheless he manned himself to answer, and spake boldly thus: "We are Greeks, driven from our course in our voyage from Troy, and brought by the winds and waves to these sh.o.r.es.

And we are they who have served Agamemnon, son of Atreus, whose fame now fills the whole earth; so mighty was the city which he overthrew, with all the host within her. And now we have come to kneel at thy feet and beseech thee of thy favour to bestow on us some gift such as strangers receive. Have pity on us, great and mighty as thou art, and forget not that Zeus hath the stranger and the suppliant in his keeping."

But there was no sign of pity or mercy in the Cyclops' face as he made answer: "Thou art full simple, my friend, or unversed in the ways of this land, if thou thinkest that I and my brethren care aught for Zeus or any other G.o.d. Nay, we are mightier far than they, and if thou seekest aught of me thou must seek it of my favour, and not of my fears. But tell me truly, where didst thou moor thy vessel on thy landing? Lies she near at hand, or on a distant part of the coast?"

Odysseus easily divined the purpose of Polyphemus in putting this question, and answered accordingly: "My s.h.i.+p was wrecked on a distant part of your coast, dashed all to pieces against the rocks; and I and these twelve escaped by swimming."

Polyphemus made no reply, but sprang up and seized two of the men, grasping them easily together in one hand, and dashed their brains out against the rocky ground. Then he cut them in pieces and made his supper on them. Fearful it was to see him as he ate, crunching up flesh and bones and marrow all together, like a ravening lion. When he had devoured the last morsel he took a deep draught of milk, and lay down on the cavern floor among his flocks to sleep.

As soon as the heavy breathing of Polyphemus showed that he was fast asleep, Odysseus crept from his corner, resolved to slay the cannibal giant on the spot. He had already drawn his sword, when a sudden thought made him pause. If he killed Polyphemus, how was he to escape from the cavern? The entrance was blocked by that ponderous stone, which a hundred men could not have moved; and he and his men must in that case perish miserably of hunger and thirst. Restrained by this reflection, he put up his sword, and went back to his companions to wait for day.

Polyphemus rose early, and after milking his flocks he laid hold of two more of the miserable captives, butchered them in the same manner, and made his breakfast on their warm, quivering bodies. Then he drove forth his sheep and goats, pus.h.i.+ng aside the door of rock, and set it back in its place, as a man sets the lid on a quiver. They heard his wild cries, as he called to his flocks, and their loud bleatings as he drove them out to pasture; then the sounds grew fainter and fainter, and silence settled on the vast, shadowy cave.

Forthwith Odysseus began to devise means to escape from that murderous den, and avenge the slaughter of his friends. As he peered about in the twilight, he caught sight of a mighty stake of green olive-wood, tall and stout as the mast of a twenty-oared galley,[1] which had been cut by the Cyclops for a staff, and laid aside to season. Odysseus cut off about a fathom's length, and with the help of his comrades made it round and smooth, and tapered it off at one end to a point. Then he hardened the sharp end in the fire, and when it was ready he hid the rude weapon away under a pile of refuse. Of the twelve who had followed him from the s.h.i.+p, there only remained eight; four of these were chosen by lot to aid him in his plan of vengeance; and Odysseus noted with satisfaction that they were the stoutest and bravest of the company. All being now ready, they sat down to wait for the return of Polyphemus.

[Footnote 1: Imitated, with characteristic amplification, by Milton, "Paradise Lost," i. 292 (Satan's spear).]

The setting sun was pouring his level rays through the c.h.i.n.ks of the doorway when they heard the ponderous tread of the Cyclops approaching. This time he drove the whole of his flocks into the cave, leaving the courtyard empty. Having milked the herd, he laid hands on two of Odysseus' comrades, and slaughtered and devoured them as before. The moment had now come for Odysseus to carry out his design.

So he filled a wooden bowl with unmixed wine, and drawing near to Polyphemus addressed him thus:

"Take, Polyphemus, and drink of this wine, now that thou hast eaten of human flesh. I warrant that thou hast never tasted such a choice vintage as this, and I brought it as a gift to thy divinity, that thou mightest have pity, and let me go in peace. Little did I dream to find thee so cruel and so wild. Who in all the world will ever draw near to thee again, after the hideous deeds which thou hast wrought?"

Polyphemus took the cup and drained it to the bottom. Then he rolled his great eye with ecstasy, as the last drop trickled down his monstrous gullet, and holding out the cup said with a sort of growling good humour: "Give me to drink again, and make haste and tell me thy name, that I may bestow on thee a gift of hospitality to gladden thy heart. I and my brethren have wine in plenty, for the earth gives us of her abundance, and the soft rain of heaven swells the grape to ripeness; but this is a drink divine, fit for the banquets of Olympus."

Again the cup was filled, and yet a third time; and Polyphemus drank out every drop. Before long his great head began to droop, and his eye blinked mistily, like the red sun looming through a fog. Seeing that the good wine was doing its work, Odysseus lost no time in telling his name. "Thou askest how I am called," he said in cozening tones, "and thou shalt hear, that I may receive the gift which thou hast promised me. My name is Noman; so call me my father and my mother, and all my friends." When he heard that, Polyphemus "grinned horribly a ghastly smile," and answered: "This shall be thy gift: I will eat thee last of all, for the sake of thy good wine."

With that he sank down backward on the floor, and lay like a leviathan, with his head lolling sideways, and his mouth gaping, buried in drunken sleep.

"Now is our time!" whispered Odysseus, and taking the sharpened stake from its hiding place he thrust the point into the glowing embers of the fire. As soon as he saw that the weapon was red hot and about to burst into flame, he took it up, and gave it to his men. Then, breathing a prayer to Heaven for strength and courage, they stole softly to the place where the Cyclops lay. Odysseus clambered up to the forehead of the Cyclops, holding on by his hair, and while the others pressed the glowing point of the ponderous stake into the monster's eye he whirled it round by means of a thong, as men turn an auger to bore a s.h.i.+p's timber. The point hissed and sputtered as it sank deep into the pulpy substance of the eye, and there was an acrid smell of burning flesh, while the great s.h.a.ggy eyebrow took fire, and cracked like a burning bush. "It is a fine tempering bath for this good spear of ours," muttered Odysseus, as he worked away at the strap. "Temper it well--Polyphemus shall have it as a parting gift"

At first the Cyclops writhed and groaned in his sleep; then with a roar as of a hundred lions he awoke, and started up to a sitting posture, scattering his puny tormentors, who fled in wild haste, and hid themselves in the angle of a projecting rock. Polyphemus rose slowly to his feet, tore the stake from the empty eye-socket, and flung it from him, still uttering his fearful cries. His brethren heard him, and quitting their caverns, came flocking round his gate, to see what had befallen. "What ails thee, Polyphemus," they asked, "that thou makest this dreadful din, murdering our sleep? Is anyone stealing thy sheep or thy goats? Or seeks anyone to slay thee by force or by guile?"

"Friends," answered the afflicted giant, "Noman is slaying me by guile, neither by force."

"Go to," replied his brethren, "if no man is using thee despitefully, why callest thou to us? Thou art stricken, it seems, with some sore disease: pray, then, to thy father Poseidon, and c.u.mber us no more."

So away they went, growling at their broken sleep, and left their blinded brother to roar alone.