Book 8

1 When early-born Dawn appeared, the rose-fingered, the sacred strength of Alcinous rose from his bed, and Odysseus, sprung from Zeus, sacker of cities, rose too. The sacred strength of Alcinous led the way to the assembly place of the Phaeacians, which was built for them beside the ships. They came and sat down side by side on the polished stones. And Pallas Athena went through the town in the likeness of the herald of wise Alcinous, planning the homecoming of great-hearted Odysseus, and she stood beside each man and said:

11 “Come, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians, come to the assembly, so that you may hear about the stranger who has just come to the house of wise Alcinous after wandering over the sea; he is like the immortals in form.”

15 So saying, she stirred the strength and spirit of each man. Quickly the meeting places and the seats were filled with men gathering, and many marveled when they saw the wise son of Laertes; for Athena poured a wondrous grace over his head and shoulders, and made him taller and broader to look at, so that he might be welcome to all the Phaeacians and win their awe and respect, and come through the many contests in which the Phaeacians would test Odysseus. And when they were gathered and assembled together, Alcinous addressed them and said:

26 “Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians, so that I may say what the heart in my breast commands me. This stranger, I do not know who he is, has come to my house in his wanderings, whether from the men of the east or of the west. He urges us to send him on his way, and begs that it be assured. Let us make haste to send him, as we have done before; for no one else either who comes to my house waits here long, grieving, for want of an escort home. Come, let us drag a black ship down into the bright sea, on her first voyage, and let fifty-two young men be chosen from the people, those who have proved the best before. When you have all made the oars fast at the oarlocks, come ashore, and then come to my house and make ready a quick meal; I will provide well for all. That is my command to the young men. The rest of you, sceptered kings, come to my beautiful house, so that we may entertain the stranger in the halls; and let no one refuse. And call the godlike bard Demodocus; for the god has given him beyond others the gift of song, to delight us in whatever way his heart prompts him to sing.”

46 So he spoke and led the way, and the sceptered kings followed; and a herald went for the godlike bard. The fifty-two chosen young men went, as he had told them, to the shore of the barren sea. And when they had come down to the ship and the sea, they dragged the black ship down into the deep water, and set the mast and the sail in the black ship, and fitted the oars in their leather straps, all in due order, and spread the white sail. They moored her high, out in the water, and then went to the great house of wise Alcinous. The porticoes and the courtyards and the rooms were filled with men gathering; there were many, young and old. For them Alcinous sacrificed twelve sheep, eight white-tusked boars, and two shambling cattle. They flayed them and dressed them, and made ready a lovely feast.

62 The herald came near, leading the faithful bard, whom the Muse loved above all others, and she gave him both good and evil: she took away his eyes, but gave him sweet song. Pontonous set a silver-studded chair for him in the middle of the feasters, leaning it against a tall pillar; and the herald hung the clear-toned lyre on a peg above his head and showed him how to reach it with his hands. Beside him he set a basket and a fine table, and a cup of wine to drink when his heart bid him. And they put out their hands to the good things that lay ready before them. But when they had put from them the desire for drink and food, the Muse moved the bard to sing the famous deeds of men, from the lay whose fame had then reached the wide sky: the quarrel of Odysseus and Achilles, son of Peleus, how once they strove at a rich feast of the gods with violent words, and Agamemnon, lord of men, was glad at heart that the best of the Achaeans were quarreling. For so Phoebus Apollo had foretold to him in prophecy at holy Pytho, when he crossed the stone threshold to consult the oracle. For then the beginning of woe was rolling on for Trojans and Danaans through the will of great Zeus.

83 These things the renowned bard sang. But Odysseus took his great purple mantle in his strong hands and drew it down over his head and covered his handsome face; for he was ashamed before the Phaeacians to shed tears under his brows. Whenever the godlike bard stopped singing, he would wipe away his tears and take the mantle from his head, and take a two-handled cup and pour an offering to the gods. But whenever he began again, and the best of the Phaeacians urged him to sing, since they delighted in his words, Odysseus would cover his head again and weep. There he hid his tears from all the others; but Alcinous alone took notice and saw it, sitting near him, and heard him groaning heavily. At once he spoke among the oar-loving Phaeacians:

97 “Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians: by now we have satisfied our hearts with the feast, where each has his equal share, and with the lyre, which is the companion of a rich feast. Now let us go out and try all kinds of contests, so that the stranger may tell his friends, when he comes home, how far we surpass other men in boxing and wrestling and jumping and running.”

104 So he spoke and led the way, and they followed. The herald hung the clear-toned lyre on its peg, and took Demodocus by the hand and led him out of the hall, and guided him along the same road that the best of the Phaeacians had taken, to watch the contests. They went to the place of assembly, and a great crowd followed, thousands of them; and many fine young men stood up. Up rose Acroneus and Ocyalus and Elatreus, Nauteus and Prymneus and Anchialus and Eretmeus, Ponteus and Proreus, Thoon and Anabesineus, and Amphialus, son of Polyneus, son of Tecton; and up rose Euryalus too, the equal of Ares, the bane of men, the son of Naubolus, who was the best of all the Phaeacians in looks and build after excellent Laodamas. And the three sons of excellent Alcinous stood up, Laodamas and Halius and godlike Clytoneus. First they tried themselves in the footrace. The course was stretched out before them from the starting post, and all together they flew swiftly over the plain, raising the dust. Far the best at running was excellent Clytoneus: as far as the length of a furrow that mules plow in a fallow field, so far he ran out ahead and reached the crowd, and the others were left behind. Then they tried the painful wrestling, and in that Euryalus beat all the best. In jumping Amphialus was the foremost of all; with the discus Elatreus was far the best of all; and in boxing Laodamas, the good son of Alcinous. And when they had all delighted their hearts with the contests, Laodamas, son of Alcinous, spoke among them:

133 “Come, friends, let us ask the stranger whether he knows and has learned any contest. He is not badly built, at least, in his thighs and calves and both his arms above, and his sturdy neck and his great strength; nor does he lack youth, but he has been broken by many hardships. For I say there is nothing worse than the sea to wreck a man, however strong he may be.”

140 Then Euryalus answered him and said: “Laodamas, you have spoken that word very rightly. Go yourself now and challenge him, and say it to him.”

143 And when the good son of Alcinous heard this, he went and stood in the middle and said to Odysseus: “Come, stranger, old father, you too must try the contests, if you have learned any; and you look like a man who knows contests. For there is no greater glory for a man as long as he lives than what he achieves with his own feet and his own hands. So come and try, and scatter the cares from your heart. Your journey will not be put off much longer; your ship is already drawn down, and the crew are ready.”

152 Odysseus of many wiles answered him: “Laodamas, why do you all urge me to this, mocking me? Cares are far more on my mind than contests, I who before have suffered very much and toiled much, and now I sit in your assembly longing for my return, begging the king and all the people.”

158 Then Euryalus answered him and taunted him to his face: “No, stranger, I would not liken you to a man skilled in contests, such as are many among men, but to one who goes back and forth with a many-benched ship, a captain of sailors who are traders, a man who keeps his mind on the cargo and watches over the homeward freight and the gains he has snatched. You are no athlete.”

165 Odysseus of many wiles looked at him from under his brows and said: “Stranger, that was not well spoken; you seem a reckless man. So it is: the gods do not give their graces to all men alike, whether form or mind or eloquence. One man is less impressive in looks, but the god crowns his form with words, and men look at him with delight; he speaks without faltering, with a winning modesty, and he stands out among the gathered people, and as he goes through the town they look on him as on a god. Another is like the immortals in looks, but no grace is set like a crown around his words. So it is with you: your looks are splendid, and not even a god could make them otherwise, but in mind you are empty. You have stirred the heart in my breast by speaking so out of turn. I am not unskilled in contests, as you say; I think I was among the first, as long as I could trust in my youth and my hands. But now I am held down by misery and pain; for I have endured much, passing through the wars of men and the cruel waves. Yet even so, though I have suffered many evils, I will try the contests; for your word has bitten into my heart, and your talk has stirred me.”

186 He spoke, and leaping up, mantle and all, he seized a discus bigger and thicker, and heavier by no little, than the ones the Phaeacians threw among themselves. He whirled it around and let it fly from his sturdy hand, and the stone hummed; and the Phaeacians of the long oars, men famed for ships, ducked down to the ground under the rush of the stone. It flew past the marks of all of them, speeding lightly from his hand. And Athena, in the likeness of a man, set the mark, and spoke to him and called him by name:

195 “Even a blind man, stranger, could tell your mark by feeling for it, since it is not mixed in with the crowd but far in front. Take heart, in this contest at least: none of the Phaeacians will reach this, let alone throw past it.”

199 So she spoke, and much-enduring noble Odysseus was glad, rejoicing that he saw a friend on his side in the contest. And then he spoke more lightly among the Phaeacians:

202 “Reach that now, young men! And soon, I think, I will send another after it, as far or farther still. And of the rest, anyone whose heart and spirit bid him, come here and try me, since you have made me very angry, in boxing or wrestling or even running, I do not grudge it, any of the Phaeacians, except Laodamas himself. For he is my host: who would fight with a man who is kind to him? A foolish and worthless man is he who challenges his host to a contest in a foreign land; he only cuts himself short in everything. But of the others I refuse no one and scorn no one; I am willing to know them and to test them face to face. For I am not bad at any of the contests among men. I know well how to handle the polished bow: I would be the first to hit my man with an arrow in a crowd of enemies, even if a great many companions stood beside me and shot at the men. Only Philoctetes surpassed me with the bow in the land of the Trojans, when we Achaeans shot. But I say that I am far the best of all the others, of all the mortals who now eat bread on the earth. With men of former times I will not wish to vie, neither with Heracles nor with Eurytus of Oechalia, who vied even with the immortals at the bow. That is why great Eurytus died early, and did not reach old age in his halls: Apollo in anger killed him, because he challenged him to a contest of archery. And I can hurl a spear farther than any other man can shoot an arrow. Only in running do I fear that one of the Phaeacians may outstrip me; for I was cruelly broken among the many waves, since there was no lasting care for my body on board; and so my limbs are slack.”

234 So he spoke, and they all fell silent and were still. Only Alcinous answered him:

236 “Stranger, what you say among us is not ungracious: you want to show the excellence that goes with you, angry because this man stood up beside you at the contests and taunted you; and you want to show it so that no mortal who knew in his heart how to speak fittingly would ever find fault with your excellence. Come now, mark my word, so that you may tell it to another hero, when you are feasting in your own halls beside your wife and your children, and remember our excellence, and the skills that Zeus has given to us too, from our fathers’ time on. We are not excellent boxers or wrestlers, but we run swiftly on our feet and are the best with ships; and dear to us always are the feast and the lyre and the dance, and changes of clothes and warm baths and bed. Come, all you who are the best dancers of the Phaeacians, play, so that the stranger may tell his friends when he comes home how far we surpass other men in seamanship and running and dancing and song. And let someone go at once and bring Demodocus the clear-toned lyre, which lies somewhere in our house.”

256 So spoke Alcinous, like a god, and the herald rose to bring the hollow lyre from the king’s house. And nine chosen stewards stood up, all of them, men of the people, who arranged everything well at the contests. They leveled a dancing floor and marked out a fine wide ring. The herald came near, bringing the clear-toned lyre to Demodocus; and he moved into the middle, and around him stood boys in the first bloom of youth, skilled in dancing, and they struck the sacred dancing floor with their feet. And Odysseus watched the flashing of their feet and marveled in his heart.

266 Then the bard struck up on the lyre and began his lovely song, about the love of Ares and Aphrodite of the fair crown: how they first lay together in the house of Hephaestus, in secret. Ares gave her many gifts, and shamed the bed of lord Hephaestus. But at once Helios came to Hephaestus with the news, for he had seen them lying together in love. And when Hephaestus heard the heart-wounding tale, he went to his smithy, brooding on evil in his heart, and set the great anvil on its block, and hammered out bonds that could not be broken or loosed, so that the lovers would stay fast where they were. And when he had made the snare, in his anger against Ares, he went to the chamber where his own bed lay, and all around the bedposts he spread the bonds in a circle, and many hung down from the roof beams above, like fine cobwebs, which no one could see, not even one of the blessed gods; so cunningly were they made. And when he had spread the whole snare around the bed, he made as if to go to Lemnos, the well-built citadel, which is far the dearest to him of all lands. And Ares of the golden reins kept no blind watch: when he saw Hephaestus, the famous craftsman, going away, he went to the house of renowned Hephaestus, eager for the love of Cytherea of the fair crown. She had just come from her father, the mighty son of Cronus, and had sat down; and Ares came into the house and took her hand and spoke and called her by name:

292 “Come, my love, let us go to bed and lie down together; for Hephaestus is not at home any more, but has gone off, I suppose, to Lemnos, to the Sintians with their savage speech.”

295 So he spoke, and it seemed welcome to her to lie down. The two of them went to the bed and lay down; and the cunning bonds of wise-hearted Hephaestus fell around them, and they could not move a limb or lift one. And then they knew that there was no escape. And the renowned lame god came near them, having turned back before he reached the land of Lemnos; for Helios had kept watch for him and told him the tale. He went to his house, grieved at heart, and stood in the doorway, and savage anger seized him; and he gave a terrible shout and called out to all the gods:

306 “Father Zeus and you other blessed gods who live forever, come here and see a thing to laugh at and not to be borne: how Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, is forever dishonoring me because I am lame, and loves that destroyer Ares, because he is handsome and sound of foot, while I was born a weakling. But no one else is to blame for that, only my two parents, who I wish had never begotten me! But look, see where these two have climbed into my bed and are sleeping in love, and I am sick at the sight. I do not think they will want to lie like this a moment longer, much as they love each other; soon neither of them will want to sleep. But the snare and the bonds will hold them, until her father pays me back all the bride-gifts, every one, that I put into his hands for the sake of his shameless girl; for his daughter is beautiful, but she cannot govern her heart.”

321 So he spoke, and the gods gathered at the house with the bronze floor. Poseidon the earth-holder came, Hermes the luck-bringer came, and lord Apollo the far-worker came. But the goddesses, being women, stayed at home, each of them, for shame. The gods, the givers of good things, stood in the doorway, and unquenchable laughter rose among the blessed gods as they saw the craft of wise-hearted Hephaestus. And one would say, looking at his neighbor:

329 “Bad deeds don’t prosper. The slow catch the swift: look how Hephaestus, slow as he is, has caught Ares, though he is the swiftest of the gods who hold Olympus, lame as he is, by his craft. So Ares owes the adulterer’s fine.”

333 So they spoke with one another, and lord Apollo, son of Zeus, said to Hermes:

335 “Hermes, son of Zeus, guide, giver of good things, would you be willing, held fast in strong bonds, to sleep in bed beside golden Aphrodite?”

338 Then the guide, slayer of Argus, answered him: “If only that could happen, lord Apollo, far-shooter! Let bonds three times as many, past counting, hold me fast, and all you gods look on, and all the goddesses too, so long as I could sleep beside golden Aphrodite.”

343 So he spoke, and laughter rose among the immortal gods. But Poseidon did not laugh; he kept begging Hephaestus, the famous worker, to set Ares free. And he spoke to him, and his words had wings:

347 “Let him go; and I promise you that he will pay, as you demand, everything that is due, in the presence of the immortal gods.”

349 Then the renowned lame god said to him: “Do not ask this of me, Poseidon, earth-holder. Worthless are the pledges given for the worthless. How could I hold you bound among the immortal gods, if Ares went off and escaped both his debt and his bonds?”

354 Then Poseidon the Earth-shaker said to him: “Hephaestus, even if Ares slips out of his debt and runs away, I myself will pay you this.”

357 Then the renowned lame god answered him: “It is not possible, and it is not fitting, to refuse your word.”

359 So saying, the strength of Hephaestus loosed the bonds. And the two of them, as soon as they were free of the bonds, strong as the bonds were, sprang up at once; Ares went off to Thrace, and laughter-loving Aphrodite went to Cyprus, to Paphos, where she has her sanctuary and her fragrant altar. There the Graces bathed her and anointed her with immortal oil, such as gleams on the gods who live forever, and they dressed her in lovely clothes, a wonder to see.

367 These things the renowned bard sang; and Odysseus was delighted in his heart as he listened, and so were the other Phaeacians of the long oars, men famed for ships.

370 Then Alcinous told Halius and Laodamas to dance by themselves, since no one could rival them. They took in their hands a beautiful ball, purple, which wise Polybus had made for them. One of them would bend far back and throw it toward the shadowy clouds, and the other would leap high off the ground and catch it easily before his feet touched the earth again. And when they had tried themselves at throwing the ball straight up, they danced on the earth that feeds many, passing it quickly back and forth, while the other young men stood around the ring and beat time, and a great stamping rose.

381 Then noble Odysseus said to Alcinous: “Lord Alcinous, most renowned of all the people, you boasted that your dancers were the best, and now it has been proved true. Awe holds me as I look at them.”

385 So he spoke, and the sacred strength of Alcinous was glad, and at once he spoke among the oar-loving Phaeacians:

387 “Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians: the stranger seems to me a man of good sense. Come, let us give him a guest gift, as is fitting. There are twelve glorious kings who rule as chiefs among the people, and I myself am the thirteenth. Let each of you bring him a freshly washed mantle and a tunic and a talent of precious gold. And let us bring it all together at once, so that the stranger may have it in his hands and go to supper glad at heart. And let Euryalus make amends to him himself, with words and with a gift, since the word he spoke was not fitting.”

398 So he spoke, and they all praised his words and told him to do so, and each man sent a herald to bring the gifts. And Euryalus answered him and said: “Lord Alcinous, most renowned of all the people, then I will make amends to the stranger, as you bid me. I will give him this sword, all of bronze, with a silver hilt and a sheath of new-sawn ivory wrapped around it; it will be worth much to him.”

406 So saying, he put the silver-studded sword into his hands, and he spoke to him, and his words had wings: “Farewell, stranger, old father; and if any word was spoken that gave offense, may the storm winds snatch it up at once and carry it away. And may the gods grant you to see your wife and to reach your native land, since for a long time now you have been suffering hardships far from your friends.”

412 Odysseus of many wiles answered him: “Farewell to you too, my friend, with all my heart, and may the gods grant you prosperity. And may you never come to miss this sword that you have given me, making amends with your words.”

416 He spoke, and slung the silver-studded sword around his shoulders. The sun set, and the glorious gifts were there for him. The lordly heralds carried them to the house of Alcinous, and the sons of excellent Alcinous received them and set the beautiful gifts beside their revered mother. The sacred strength of Alcinous led the way, and they came and sat down on the high chairs. Then the strength of Alcinous said to Arete:

424 “Come, wife, bring a splendid chest, the best one, and put in it yourself a freshly washed mantle and a tunic. And heat a bronze cauldron over the fire for him, and warm water, so that when he has bathed and seen all the gifts well stowed that the excellent Phaeacians have brought here, he may enjoy the feast and listen to the strains of song. And I will give him this beautiful cup of mine, of gold, so that he may remember me all his days when he pours offerings in his hall to Zeus and to the other gods.”

433 So he spoke, and Arete told her maids to set a great tripod over the fire as quickly as they could. They set the tripod for the bath water on the blazing fire, and poured water into it, and took wood and kindled it beneath. The fire played around the belly of the tripod, and the water grew warm. While it heated, Arete brought out from her chamber a beautiful chest for the stranger, and put in it the splendid gifts, the clothing and the gold that the Phaeacians had given him; and she herself put in a mantle and a fine tunic, and she spoke to him, and her words had wings:

443 “Now look to the lid yourself, and tie a knot on it quickly, so that no one may rob you on the way, when you fall into sweet sleep again as you travel in the black ship.”

446 And when much-enduring noble Odysseus heard this, at once he fitted the lid and quickly tied on it a cunning knot, which lady Circe had once taught him in her wisdom. Then the housekeeper told him to step into the tub and bathe; and his heart was glad to see the warm bath, for he had not often been cared for since he left the house of fair-haired Calypso. While he was with her, he had been cared for constantly, as if he were a god.

454 When the maids had bathed him and rubbed him with oil and put a fine cloak and a tunic about him, he stepped out of the tub and went to join the men at their wine. And Nausicaa, who had her beauty from the gods, stood beside a pillar of the well-built roof, and marveled at Odysseus as she looked at him with her eyes, and she spoke to him, and her words had wings:

461 “Farewell, stranger, and when you are in your native land, remember me sometimes, since it is to me first that you owe the price of your life.”

463 Odysseus of many wiles answered her: “Nausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinous, so may Zeus grant it now, the loud-thundering husband of Hera, that I may reach my home and see the day of return. Then there too I would pray to you as to a god, always, all my days; for you gave me my life, girl.”

469 He spoke, and sat down on a chair beside King Alcinous. They were already serving out the portions and mixing the wine. The herald came near, leading the faithful bard, Demodocus, honored by the people, and seated him in the middle of the feasters, leaning his chair against a tall pillar. Then Odysseus of many wiles cut off a piece of the chine of a white-tusked boar, though more was left over, with rich fat on either side, and said to the herald:

477 “Herald, here, give this meat to Demodocus to eat; and I will greet him warmly, grieving though I am. For among all men on the earth bards have their share of honor and reverence, because the Muse has taught them the paths of song, and she loves the tribe of bards.”

482 So he spoke, and the herald took it and placed it in the hands of the hero Demodocus; and he received it, and was glad at heart. And they put out their hands to the good things that lay ready before them. But when they had put from them the desire for drink and food, then Odysseus of many wiles said to Demodocus:

487 “Demodocus, I praise you above all mortals. Either the Muse, child of Zeus, has taught you, or Apollo; for you sing all too truly the fate of the Achaeans, all that the Achaeans did and suffered and all they toiled through, as if you had been there yourself or heard it from someone who was. But come now, change your theme, and sing of the making of the wooden horse, which Epeius made with Athena’s help, the trick that noble Odysseus once led into the citadel, after filling it with the men who sacked Ilion. If you tell me this rightly, in due order, I will tell all men at once how the god has freely granted you the gift of wondrous song.”

499 So he spoke, and the bard, moved by the god, began, and let his song be heard, taking it up from where the Argives had gone aboard their well-benched ships and were sailing away, after throwing fire into their huts, while the others, with glorious Odysseus, were already sitting in the meeting place of the Trojans, hidden in the horse; for the Trojans themselves had dragged it into the citadel. So it stood there, and the Trojans sat around it and talked on and on, without coming to a decision. Three plans pleased them: either to split the hollow timber with the pitiless bronze, or to drag it to the top of the cliff and throw it down onto the rocks, or to let it stand, a great offering to charm the gods; and that was how it was to end at last. For it was their fate to perish once their city had taken in the great wooden horse, where all the best of the Argives sat, bringing slaughter and doom to the Trojans. And he sang how the sons of the Achaeans poured out of the horse, leaving their hollow ambush, and sacked the city. He sang how each man ravaged the steep city in a different place, but how Odysseus went like Ares to the house of Deiphobus, with godlike Menelaus. There, he said, Odysseus dared the most terrible fighting, and won it in the end, with the help of great-spirited Athena.

521 These things the renowned bard sang; and Odysseus melted, and tears wet his cheeks below his eyelids. As a woman weeps, falling over her dear husband, who has fallen before his city and his people, trying to ward off the pitiless day from his town and his children; she sees him dying and gasping for breath, and she clings to him and wails aloud; but the men behind her beat her back and shoulders with their spears and lead her off into slavery, to have toil and misery, and her cheeks waste away with most pitiful grief: so Odysseus shed pitiful tears from under his brows. There he hid his tears from all the others; but Alcinous alone took notice and saw it, sitting near him, and heard him groaning heavily. At once he spoke among the oar-loving Phaeacians:

536 “Hear me, leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians: let Demodocus now stop his clear-toned lyre; for it is not to the pleasure of all that he sings this song. Ever since we began supper and the godlike bard was moved to sing, the stranger has never stopped his miserable weeping; grief must surely have closed around his heart. Come, let the bard stop, so that we may all make merry alike, hosts and guest, since that is much better. For it is for the sake of the revered stranger that all this has been prepared, his passage home and the gifts of friendship that we give him in our love. A stranger and a suppliant is as dear as a brother to any man who has even a little understanding. So now do not hide with crafty thoughts what I am going to ask you; it is better for you to speak out. Tell me the name by which they called you at home, your mother and your father and the others in the town and those who live around it. For no man is altogether nameless, bad or good, once he is born; parents give names to all, as soon as they have borne them. And tell me your land, your people, and your city, so that our ships may carry you there, setting their course by their own minds. For the Phaeacians have no helmsmen, nor any steering oars such as other ships have; the ships themselves know the thoughts and minds of men, and they know the cities and rich fields of all men, and they cross the gulf of the sea most swiftly, wrapped in mist and cloud; and they never have any fear of harm or of being lost. But this I once heard my father Nausithous tell: he used to say that Poseidon was angry with us because we give safe escort to all men. He said that one day Poseidon would wreck a well-built ship of the Phaeacians as she came back from an escort on the misty sea, and would hide our city behind a great mountain. So the old man spoke; and the god may bring it to pass, or it may stay unfulfilled, as his heart pleases. But come, tell me this, and tell it truly: where you wandered, and what lands of men you came to, the people themselves and their well-peopled cities, both those who are harsh and savage and unjust, and those who are kind to strangers, with minds that fear the gods. And tell me why you weep and grieve in your heart when you hear of the fate of the Argive Danaans and of Ilion. The gods made it, and spun destruction for men, so that there might be a song for those still to come. Did some kinsman of yours by marriage fall before Ilion, a good man, a daughter’s husband or a wife’s father, who are the dearest after our own blood and kin? Or perhaps some companion, a good man who knew your heart? For a companion who has an understanding heart is no less than a brother.”