Book 13

1 So he spoke, and they all fell silent and were still, and throughout the shadowy halls they were held spellbound. Then Alcinous answered him and said:

4 “Odysseus, since you have come to my bronze-floored house, my high-roofed house, I do not think you will be driven off course again on your way home, much as you have suffered. And to each man among you I say this, and I lay it on you as a charge, all of you who drink the sparkling wine of the elders in my halls day after day and listen to the bard: the clothes for our guest already lie in a polished chest, with the finely wrought gold and all the other gifts that the counselors of the Phaeacians brought here. But come, let each of us give him a great tripod and a cauldron as well; and we in turn will gather it from the people and be repaid, for it is hard for one man to give so much and get nothing back.”

16 So Alcinous spoke, and his words pleased them. They went home to sleep, each to his own house, and when early-born Dawn appeared, the rose-fingered, they hurried down to the ship and brought the bronze that is the pride of men. The sacred strength of Alcinous went through the ship in person and stowed it well under the benches, so that it would not hinder any of the crew as they rowed, whenever they strained at the oars. Then they went to the house of Alcinous and prepared a feast.

24 For them the sacred strength of Alcinous sacrificed an ox to Zeus of the dark clouds, son of Cronus, who rules over all. They burned the thigh pieces and feasted on a glorious feast and took their delight, and among them the godlike bard sang, Demodocus, honored by the people. But Odysseus kept turning his head toward the blazing sun, eager for it to set, for he longed now to be on his way. As when a man longs for his supper, a man whose two wine-dark oxen have dragged the jointed plow through the fallow field all day long, and gladly for him the sunlight goes down, so that he can go to his supper, and his knees give under him as he walks: so gladly for Odysseus the sunlight went down. At once he spoke among the oar-loving Phaeacians, and, turning to Alcinous above all, he said:

38 “Lord Alcinous, most renowned of all the people, pour your offerings and send me on my way unharmed; and fare you well yourselves. For now all that my heart desired has been accomplished: an escort, and gifts of friendship. May the gods of heaven bless them for me, and may I come home and find my excellent wife there, and my dear ones unharmed. And you who stay here, may you gladden your wedded wives and your children; may the gods grant you every kind of excellence, and may no evil ever come among your people.”

47 So he spoke, and they all praised his words and urged that the stranger be sent on his way, since he had spoken rightly. Then the strength of Alcinous said to the herald: “Pontonous, mix a bowl and serve wine to everyone in the hall, so that we may pray to father Zeus and send the stranger to his own native land.”

53 So he spoke, and Pontonous mixed the heart-cheering wine and went to each man in turn and served them all, and they poured their offerings to the blessed gods who hold the wide sky, there from the seats where they sat. But noble Odysseus rose and placed the two-handled cup in Arete’s hand, and he spoke to her, and his words had wings:

59 “Fare you well, my queen, all your days, until old age comes, and death, which come to all mankind. I am going now; but you, take joy in this house, in your children and your people and in Alcinous the king.”

63 So saying, noble Odysseus stepped over the threshold, and the strength of Alcinous sent a herald with him to lead him to the swift ship and the shore of the sea. And Arete sent serving women with him: one carried a freshly washed mantle and a tunic, another she sent along to carry the sturdy chest, and a third brought bread and red wine.

70 When they had come down to the ship and the sea, the lordly men of his escort at once took all this and stowed it in the hollow ship, all the drink and the food. For Odysseus they spread a rug and a linen sheet on the deck of the hollow ship, at the stern, so that he could sleep without waking; and he himself went aboard and lay down in silence. They sat down at the oarlocks, each man in order, and loosed the cable from the pierced stone. Then they leaned back and threw up the sea with their oar blades, and deep, sweet sleep fell on his eyelids, unwaking sleep, the sweetest, most like death. And as on a plain four stallions yoked together, all springing forward at once under the blows of the lash, lift themselves high and swiftly cover the road, so the stern of the ship lifted, and behind her the great purple wave of the loud-roaring sea surged and seethed. She ran on very steadily and surely, and not even the circling hawk, the swiftest of winged things, could have kept pace with her. So she ran swiftly and cut through the waves of the sea, carrying a man whose counsels were like the gods’, who before had suffered many pains in his heart, passing through the wars of men and the cruel waves; but now he slept unmoving, forgetting all that he had suffered.

93 When the brightest star rose, the one that comes above all others to herald the light of early-born Dawn, then the seafaring ship drew near the island.

96 There is a harbor of Phorcys, the Old Man of the Sea, in the land of Ithaca, and two headlands jut out at its mouth, sheer cliffs that slope down toward the harbor and keep off the great waves raised by harsh winds outside; within, well-benched ships ride without a mooring once they have come within the line of anchorage. At the head of the harbor stands a long-leaved olive tree, and near it a lovely, shadowy cave, sacred to the nymphs who are called Naiads. In it are mixing bowls and two-handled jars of stone, and there the bees store their honey. In it are tall looms of stone, where the nymphs weave sea-purple mantles, a wonder to see; and in it are waters that flow forever. It has two doors: one faces the North Wind, and by it men may go down; the other faces the South Wind and is more for the gods. No men enter by that way; it is the path of the immortals.

113 There they rowed in, for they knew the place of old. The ship ran up on the shore for fully half her length, so hard did the rowers’ hands drive her on. They stepped from the well-benched ship onto the land, and first they lifted Odysseus out of the hollow ship, just as he was, in the linen sheet and the shining rug, and laid him down on the sand still overpowered by sleep. Then they lifted out the treasures that the lordly Phaeacians had given him as he set out for home, by the will of great-hearted Athena. These they piled together by the trunk of the olive tree, out of the path, so that no passer-by might come upon them and do them harm before Odysseus woke. Then they themselves went back home again. But the Earth-shaker had not forgotten the threats he had once made against godlike Odysseus, and he asked Zeus what he intended:

128 “Father Zeus, I shall no longer be honored among the immortal gods, when mortals do not honor me at all: the Phaeacians, who are of my own blood besides. I meant Odysseus to suffer many evils before he came home; I never took his homecoming from him altogether, since you had promised it once and nodded your assent. But they have carried him asleep over the sea in a swift ship and set him down in Ithaca, and given him gifts beyond telling, bronze and gold in plenty and woven clothing, more than Odysseus would ever have carried away from Troy if he had come home unharmed with his share of the spoil.”

139 Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him: “Ah, Earth-shaker, wide in strength, what a thing to say! The gods do not dishonor you; it would be a hard thing to heap dishonor on the eldest and the best of us. But if any man, giving way to his own force and strength, fails to honor you, you may always take vengeance, now and hereafter. Do as you wish, as your heart pleases.”

146 Then Poseidon the Earth-shaker answered him: “I would have done at once as you say, god of the dark clouds, but I always respect your anger and keep clear of it. Now, though, I want to wreck the beautiful ship of the Phaeacians as she comes back from her convoy on the misty sea, so that they will stop at last and give up escorting men; and I want to hide their city behind a great mountain.”

153 Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him: “My dear brother, this is what seems best to my mind. When all the people are watching from the city as she drives in, turn her to stone near the land, a stone in the shape of a swift ship, so that all men may marvel; and hide their city behind a great mountain.”

159 When Poseidon the Earth-shaker heard this, he went to Scheria, where the Phaeacians are born, and there he waited. And the seafaring ship came very near, speeding lightly along; and the Earth-shaker came near her and turned her to stone and rooted her to the bottom with one blow of the flat of his hand, and then he was gone. And the Phaeacians of the long oars, men famed for ships, spoke winged words to one another, and one would say, looking at his neighbor:

168 “Ah me, who has bound our swift ship fast on the sea as she was driving home? Why, she was in plain sight, all of her!”

170 So one would say; but they did not know how it had come about. Then Alcinous spoke among them and said:

172 “Ah! The prophecies my father spoke long ago have come upon me after all. He used to say that Poseidon resented us, because we give safe escort to all men. He said that one day, as a beautiful ship of the Phaeacian men came back from a convoy on the misty sea, the god would wreck her and hide our city behind a great mountain. So the old man said, and now it is all coming to pass. But come, let us all do as I say. Give up escorting mortals, whenever anyone comes to our city; and let us sacrifice twelve choice bulls to Poseidon, in the hope that he will take pity on us and not hide our city behind a towering mountain.”

184 So he spoke, and they were afraid, and they made the bulls ready. So the leaders and counselors of the Phaeacian people prayed to lord Poseidon, standing around the altar. And noble Odysseus woke from his sleep in his own native land, and he did not know it, having been away so long; for the goddess had poured a mist around him, Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, so that she might make him unrecognizable and tell him everything, so that his wife and his townsmen and his friends would not know him before the suitors had paid for all their outrage. So everything looked strange to the land’s own lord: the long paths, the harbors where ships can lie, the sheer rocks, and the flourishing trees. He sprang up and stood and looked at his native land; and then he groaned and struck both his thighs with the flat of his hands, and lamenting he said:

200 “Ah me, to what people’s land have I come now? Are they violent and savage and unjust, or kind to strangers, with minds that fear the gods? Where am I to take all these treasures? And where am I to wander myself? If only I had stayed there among the Phaeacians! And I could have come to some other mighty king, who would have welcomed me and sent me home. As it is, I do not know where to put these things, and I will not leave them here, or they may become plunder for others. Oh, for shame! So they were not so wise or so just after all, the leaders and counselors of the Phaeacians, who have brought me to another land. They said they would take me to clear-seen Ithaca, and they did not do it. May Zeus, god of suppliants, punish them, who watches over all men and punishes whoever does wrong. But come, I will count these treasures and look them over, to see if they have gone off with anything in their hollow ship.”

217 So saying, he counted the beautiful tripods and the cauldrons and the gold and the fine woven clothes. Of all these he missed nothing. But he wept for his native land, dragging himself along the shore of the loud-roaring sea, lamenting bitterly. And Athena came near him in the likeness of a young man, a herdsman of sheep, as delicate as the sons of kings are, with a well-made cloak folded double about her shoulders; she had sandals on her shining feet and a javelin in her hands. Odysseus was glad when he saw her and went to meet her, and he spoke to her, and his words had wings:

228 “Friend, since you are the first I have met in this place, greetings to you, and may you not come to me with a wicked mind. Save these things, and save me; I pray to you as to a god, and I come to your dear knees. And tell me this truly, so that I may know it well: what land is this, what people, what men are born here? Is it some clear-seen island, or a shore of the deep-soiled mainland that slopes down into the sea?”

236 Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, said to him: “You are a fool, stranger, or you have come from far away, if you ask about this land. It is not so very nameless. Very many know it, both those who live toward the dawn and the sun and those who live behind, toward the misty dark. It is rugged, to be sure, and no land for driving horses; yet it is not too poor, though it is not broad. Grain grows in it beyond measure, and wine too; the rain never fails it, nor the fresh dew. It is good pasture for goats and for cattle; there is timber of every kind, and watering places that last the year round. And so, stranger, the name of Ithaca has reached even to Troy, which they say is far from the Achaean land.”

250 So she spoke, and much-enduring noble Odysseus was glad, rejoicing in his native land, as Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis, had told him; and he spoke to her, and his words had wings. But he did not tell the truth: he took back the word before it was spoken, always turning over in his breast a mind full of craft.

256 “I heard of Ithaca even in wide Crete, far over the sea; and now I have come here myself with these treasures. I left as much again to my children, and I am in exile, because I killed the dear son of Idomeneus, Orsilochus, swift of foot, who in wide Crete outran all the bread-eating men with his swift feet. He wanted to rob me of all my spoil from Troy, for which I had suffered pains in my heart, passing through the wars of men and the cruel waves, because I would not do his father the favor of serving under him in the land of the Trojans, but led other companions of my own. I struck him with my bronze-tipped spear as he came down from the fields, lying in ambush by the road with one companion. A very dark night covered the sky, no man saw us, and I took his life unseen. When I had killed him with the sharp bronze, I went at once to a ship and begged the lordly Phoenicians, and gave them spoil to satisfy their hearts. I asked them to take me aboard and set me down at Pylos, or at bright Elis, where the Epeans rule. But the force of the wind drove them away from there, much against their will; they did not mean to cheat me. Driven off course from there, we came here by night. We rowed hard into the harbor, and none of us gave a thought to supper, though we needed it badly; we all just went ashore and lay down as we were. Then sweet sleep came over me in my weariness, and they took my treasures out of the hollow ship and set them down where I myself lay on the sand. Then they went aboard and left for well-peopled Sidonia, and I was left behind, grieving at heart.”

287 So he spoke, and the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, smiled and stroked him with her hand; and now she was like a woman, beautiful and tall and skilled in glorious handiwork. And she spoke to him, and her words had wings:

291 “Sly would he be, and a thief at heart, who could get past you in all your tricks, even if it were a god who met you. You hard man, crafty-minded, never sated with tricks, you were not going to stop, even in your own land, from the deceptions and thieving tales that are dear to you to the very core. But come, let us talk no more of this, for we both know every kind of craft: you are far the best of all mortals in counsel and in speech, and I among all the gods am famous for cunning and for craft. And yet you did not know Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, who always stands beside you in all your labors and guards you, and who made you dear to all the Phaeacians. And now I have come here to weave a plan with you, and to hide the treasures that the lordly Phaeacians gave you as you set out for home, by my counsel and my thought; and to tell you all the troubles it is your fate to endure in your well-built house. You must bear them, because you must, and tell no one, no man and no woman, none at all, that you have come home from your wandering; but suffer many pains in silence, and submit to the violence of men.”

311 Odysseus of many wiles answered her: “It is hard, goddess, for a mortal who meets you to know you, however skilled he is, for you take every shape. But this I know well, that you were kind to me before, while we sons of the Achaeans were fighting at Troy. But once we had sacked the steep city of Priam and gone off in our ships, and a god had scattered the Achaeans, I never saw you after that, daughter of Zeus, nor saw you come aboard my ship to ward off any pain from me. Always I wandered with my heart torn in my breast, until the gods set me free from misery; until, in the rich land of the Phaeacian men, you cheered me with your words and led me to the city yourself. And now I beg you by your father—for I do not think I have come to clear-seen Ithaca; I am roaming in some other land, and I think you say all this to mock me, to beguile my mind—tell me if I have truly come to my own native land.”

329 Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, answered him: “Always the same thought in your breast! And that is why I cannot leave you in your misery, because you are courteous, quick-witted, and sensible. Any other man come home from his wanderings would gladly have hurried to see his children and his wife in his halls; but you have no wish to learn or ask of anything until you have first tested your wife, who sits in your halls as she always has, and her nights and days waste away in misery as she weeps. As for me, I never doubted it; I knew in my heart that you would come home, after losing all your companions. But I did not want to fight against Poseidon, my father’s brother, who laid up anger in his heart against you, enraged because you blinded his dear son. But come, I will show you the lie of Ithaca, so that you may believe. This is the harbor of Phorcys, the Old Man of the Sea, and here at the head of the harbor is the long-leaved olive, and near it the lovely, shadowy cave, sacred to the nymphs who are called Naiads. This is the vaulted cavern where you used to offer the nymphs many perfect hecatombs; and this is Mount Neriton, clothed in forest.”

352 So saying, the goddess scattered the mist, and the land appeared. Then much-enduring noble Odysseus was glad, rejoicing in his own land, and he kissed the grain-giving land. At once he prayed to the nymphs, lifting up his hands:

356 “Naiad nymphs, daughters of Zeus, I never thought I would see you again. Now be glad of my loving prayers; and gifts too we will give you, as we did before, if Zeus’s daughter, the driver of spoil, graciously lets me live on and makes my dear son grow to manhood.”

361 Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, said to him: “Take heart; do not let these things trouble your mind. But let us put your treasures in the innermost part of the wondrous cave at once, right now, so that they may stay safe for you; and then let us think how all may turn out best.”

366 So saying, the goddess went into the shadowy cave, searching out its hiding places, and Odysseus brought everything up close, the gold and the stubborn bronze and the well-made clothes that the Phaeacians had given him. He laid them carefully away, and Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis, set a stone against the doorway. Then the two of them sat down by the trunk of the sacred olive and planned destruction for the overbearing suitors. And the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, began the talk:

375 “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, resourceful Odysseus, think how you will lay hands on the shameless suitors, who for three years now have been lording it in your hall, courting your godlike wife and offering her bride-gifts. And she, always mourning in her heart for your return, gives hope to all of them and makes promises to each man, sending him messages; but her mind is set on other things.”

382 Odysseus of many wiles answered her: “Ah! Surely I was going to die in my halls by an evil fate, like Agamemnon son of Atreus, if you, goddess, had not told me all this rightly. But come, weave a plan by which I may pay them back; and stand beside me yourself, and put daring strength in me, as on the day we loosed the shining diadem of Troy. If you would stand by me with such eagerness, gray-eyed one, I would fight even three hundred men with you, lady goddess, so long as you gladly gave me your help.”

392 Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, answered him: “I will be beside you indeed, and you will not slip from my mind, when we are at this work; and I think that some of the suitors who devour your living will spatter the vast floor with blood and brains. But come, I will make you unrecognizable to all mortals. I will wither the fine skin on your supple limbs and destroy the fair hair on your head, and clothe you in a rag that a man would loathe to see anyone wearing, and I will dim your eyes, that were so beautiful before, so that you will look vile to all the suitors and to your wife and your son, whom you left in your halls. But first of all go to the swineherd, who keeps your swine and is as loyal to you as ever, and loves your son and sensible Penelope. You will find him sitting by his swine. They feed by the Raven’s Rock and at the spring of Arethusa, eating the acorns they love and drinking the black water, which make the rich fat grow on swine. Stay there, sit by him, and ask him about everything, while I go to Sparta of the lovely women to call Telemachus, your dear son, Odysseus. He has gone to spacious Lacedaemon, to Menelaus, to learn news of you, whether you were still alive anywhere.”

416 Odysseus of many wiles answered her: “Why then did you not tell him, when you know everything in your mind? Was it so that he too might wander and suffer pains over the barren sea, while others devour his living?” Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, answered him: “Do not let him weigh too heavily on your heart. I escorted him myself, so that he might win good fame by going there. He is in no trouble; he sits at his ease in the house of the son of Atreus, and has plenty of everything around him. True, young men lie in wait for him with a black ship, eager to kill him before he reaches his native land; but I do not think it will happen. Before that the earth will hold some of the suitors who devour your living.”

429 So saying, Athena touched him with her wand. She withered the fine skin on his supple limbs and destroyed the fair hair on his head, and over all his limbs she put the skin of an aged old man, and she dimmed his eyes, that were so beautiful before. She threw about him a vile rag of a cloak and a tunic, tattered and filthy, blackened with foul smoke; and over these she put the great hide of a swift deer, worn bare of hair. And she gave him a staff and a shabby pouch, full of holes, with a twisted cord for a strap.

439 So the two of them, having made their plan, parted; and she went to bright Lacedaemon to fetch the son of Odysseus.