The Odysseys of Homer, together with the shorter poems · Homer
ANOTHER ARGUMENT
Why are you Fond of your mischiefs, and such gladness show For Circe’s house, that will transform ye all To swine, or wolves, or lions? Never shall Our heads get out, if once within we be, But stay compell’d by strong necessity. So wrought the Cyclop, when t’ his cave our friends This bold one led on, and brought all their ends By his one indiscretion.᾿ I for this Thought with my sword (that desp’rate head of his Hewn from his neck) to gash upon the ground His mangled body, though my blood was bound In near alliance to him. But the rest With humble suit contain’d me, and request, That I would leave him with my ship alone, And to the sacred palace lead them on. I led them; nor Eurylochus would stay From their attendance on me, our late fray Struck to his heart so. But mean time, my men, In Circe’s house, were all, in sev’ral bain, Studiously sweeten’d, smug’d with oil, and deck’d With in and out weeds, and a feast secret Serv’d in before them; at which close we found They all were set, cheer’d, and carousing round, When mutual sight had, and all thought on, then Feast was forgotten, and the moan again[12] About the house flew, driv’n with wings of joy.
But then spake Circe: ‘Now, no more annoy, I know myself what woes by sea, and shore, And men unjust have plagued enough before Your injur’d virtues. Here then feast as long, And be as cheerful, till ye grow as strong As when ye first forsook your country-earth. Ye now fare all like exiles; not a mirth, Flash’d in amongst ye, but is quench’d again With still-renew’d tears, though the beaten vein Of your distresses should, me think, be now Benumb with suff’rance.’ We did well allow Her kind persuasions, and the whole year stay’d In varied feast with her. When, now array’d The world was with the spring, and orby hours Had gone the round again through herbs and flow’rs, The months absolv’d in order, till the days Had run their full race in Apollo’s rays; My friends remember’d me of home, and said; If ever fate would sign my pass, delay’d It should be now no more. I heard them well, Yet that day spent in feast, till darkness fell, And sleep his virtues through our vapours shed. When I ascended sacred Circe’s bed, Implor’d my pass, and her performéd vow Which now my soul urg’d, and my soldiers now Afflicted me with tears to get them gone.
All these I told her, and she answer’d these: “Much-skill’d Ulysses Laertiades! Remain no more against your wills with me, But take your free way; only this must be Perform’d before you steer your course for home: You must the way to Pluto overcome, And stern Persephoné, to form your pass, By th’ aged Theban soul Tiresias, The dark-brow’d prophet, whose soul yet can see Clearly, and firmly; grave Persephoné, Ev’n dead, gave him a mind, that he alone Might sing truth’s solid wisdom, and not one Prove more than shade in his comparison.᾿ This broke my heart; I sunk into my bed, Mourn’d, and would never more be comforted With light, nor life. But having now exprest My pains enough to her in my unrest, That so I might prepare her ruth, and get All I held fit for an affair so great, I said: ‘O Circe, who shall steer my course To Pluto’s kingdom? Never ship had force To make that voyage.’ The divine-in-voice Said; ‘Seek no guide, raise you your mast, and hoise Your ship’s white sails, and then sit yon at peace, The fresh North Spirit shall waft ye through the Seas.
But, having past the ocean, you shall see A little shore, that to Persephoné Puts up a consecrated wood, where grows Tall firs, and sallows that their fruits soon lose. Cast anchor in the gulfs, and go alone To Pluto’s dark house, where, to Acheron Cocytus runs, and Pyriphlegethon, Cocytus born of Styx, and where a rock Of both the met floods bears the roaring shock. The dark heroë, great Tiresias, Now coming near, to gain propitious pass, Dig of a cubit ev’ry way a pit, And pour to all that are deceas’d in it A solemn sacrifice. For which, first take Honey and wine, and their commixtion make; Then sweet wine neat; and thirdly water pour; And lastly add to these the whitest flour. Then vow to all the weak necks of the dead Off’rings a number; and, when thou shalt tread The Ithacensian shore, to sacrifice A heifer never-tam’d, and most of prize, A pile of all thy most esteeméd goods Enflaming to the dear streams of their bloods; And, in secret rites, to Tiresias vow A ram coal-black at all parts, that doth flow With fat and fleece, and all thy flocks doth lead.
When the all-calling nation of the dead[13] Thou thus hast pray’d to, offer on the place A ram and ewe all black being turn’d in face To dreadful Erebus, thyself aside The flood’s shore walking. And then, gratified With flocks of souls of men and dames deceas’d Shall all thy pious rites be. Straight address’d See then the off’ring that thy fellows slew, Flay’d, and impos’d in fire; and all thy crew Pray to the state of either Deity, Grave Pluto, and severe Persephoné. Then draw thy sword, stand firm, nor suffer one Of all the faint shades of the dead and gone T’ approach the blood, till thou hast heard their king, The wise Tiresias; who thy offering Will instantly do honour, thy home-ways, And all the measure of them by the seas, Amply unfolding.’
This the Goddess told; And then the Morning in her throne of gold Survey’d the vast world; by whose orient light The Nymph adorn’d me with attires as bright, Her own hands putting on both shirt and weed, Robes fine, and curious, and upon my head An ornament that glitter’d like a flame, Girt me in gold; and forth betimes I came Amongst my soldiers, rous’d them all from sleep, And bad them now no more observance keep Of ease, and feast, but straight a-shipboard fall, For now the Goddess had inform’d me all. Their noble spirits agreed; nor yet so clear Could I bring all off, but Elpenor there His heedless life left. He was youngest man Of all my company, and one that wan Least fame for arms, as little for his brain; Who (too much steep’d in wine, and so made fain To get refreshing by the cool of sleep, Apart his fellows, plung’d in vapours deep, And they as high in tumult of their way) Suddenly wak’d and (quite out of the stay A sober mind had giv’n him) would descend A huge long ladder, forward, and an end Fell from the very roof, full pitching on The dearest joint his head was plac’d upon, Which, quite dissolv’d, let loose his soul to hell.
I to the rest, and Circe’s means did tell Of our return, as crossing clean the hope I gave them first, and said: ‘You think the scope Of our endeavours now is straight for home; No; Circe otherwise design’d, whose doom Enjoin’d us first to greet the dreadful house Of austere Pluto and his glorious spouse, To take the counsel of Tiresias, The rev’rend Theban, to direct our pass.’ This brake their hearts, and grief made tear their hair. But grief was never good at great affair; It would have way yet. We went woful on To ship and shore, where was arriv’d as soon Circe unseen, a black ewe and a ram Binding for sacrifice, and, as she came, Vanish’d again unwitness’d by our eyes; Which griev’d not us, nor check’d our sacrifice, For who would see God, loth to let us see, This way or that bent; still his ways are free.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.