  Mercury bears to Calypso a command from Jupiter that she dismiss Ulysses. She, after some remonstrances, promises obedience, and furnishes him with instruments and materials, with which he constructs a raft. He quits Calypso’s island; is persecuted by Neptune with dreadful tempests, but by the assistance of a sea nymph, after having lost his raft, is enabled to swim to PhÆacia. Aurora from beside her glorious mate Tithonus now arose, light to dispense Through earth and heav’n, when the assembled Gods In council sat, o’er whom high-thund’ring Jove Presided, mightiest of the Pow’rs above. Amid them, Pallas on the num’rous woes Descanted of Ulysses, whom she saw With grief, still prison’d in Calypso’s isle. Jove, Father, hear me, and ye other Pow’rs Who live for ever, hear! Be never King Henceforth to gracious acts inclined, humane, Or righteous, but let ev’ry sceptred hand Rule merciless, and deal in wrong alone, Since none of all his people whom he sway’d With such paternal gentleness and love Remembers, now, divine Ulysses more. He, in yon distant isle a suff’rer lies Of hopeless sorrow, through constraint the guest Still of the nymph Calypso, without means Or pow’r to reach his native shores again, Alike of gallant barks and friends depriv’d, Who might conduct him o’er the spacious Deep. Nor is this all, but enemies combine To slay his son ere yet he can return From Pylus, whither he hath gone to learn There, or in Sparta, tidings of his Sire. To whom the cloud-assembler God replied. What word hath pass’d thy lips, daughter belov’d? Hast thou not purpos’d that arriving soon At home, Ulysses shall destroy his foes? That he may reach secure his native coast, And that the suitors baffled may return. He ceas’d, and thus to Hermes spake, his son. Hermes! (for thou art herald of our will At all times) to yon bright-hair’d nymph convey Our fix’d resolve, that brave Ulysses thence Depart, uncompanied by God or man. Borne on a corded raft, and suff’ring woe Extreme, he on the twentieth day shall reach, Not sooner, Scherie the deep-soil’d, possess’d By the PhÆacians, kinsmen of the Gods. They, as a God shall reverence the Chief, And in a bark of theirs shall send him thence To his own home, much treasure, brass and gold And raiment giving him, to an amount Surpassing all that, had he safe return’d, He should by lot have shared of Ilium’s spoil. Thus Fate appoints Ulysses to regain His country, his own palace, and his friends. He ended, nor the Argicide refused, Messenger of the skies; his sandals fair, Ambrosial, golden, to his feet he bound, Which o’er the moist wave, rapid as the wind, Bear him, and o’er th’ illimitable earth, Then took his rod with which, at will, all eyes He closes soft, or opes them wide again. So arm’d, forth flew the valiant Argicide. Alighting on Pieria, down he stoop’d To Ocean, and the billows lightly skimm’d In form a sew-mew, such as in the bays Tremendous of the barren Deep her food Seeking, dips oft in brine her ample wing. In such disguise o’er many a wave he rode, But reaching, now, that isle remote, forsook The azure Deep, and at the spacious grot, Where dwelt the amber-tressed nymph arrived, Found her within. A fire on all the hearth Blazed sprightly, and, afar-diffused, the scent Of smooth-split cedar and of cypress-wood Odorous, burning, cheer’d the happy isle. She, busied at the loom, and plying fast Her golden shuttle, with melodious voice Alder and poplar, and the redolent branch Wide-spread of Cypress, skirted dark the cave. There many a bird of broadest pinion built Secure her nest, the owl, the kite, and daw Long-tongued, frequenter of the sandy shores. A garden-vine luxuriant on all sides Mantled the spacious cavern, cluster-hung Profuse; four fountains of serenest lymph Their sinuous course pursuing side by side, Stray’d all around, and ev’ry where appear’d Meadows of softest verdure, purpled o’er With violets; it was a scene to fill A God from heav’n with wonder and delight. Hermes, Heav’n’s messenger, admiring stood That sight, and having all survey’d, at length Enter’d the grotto; nor the lovely nymph Him knew not soon as seen, for not unknown Each to the other the Immortals are, How far soever sep’rate their abodes. Yet found he not within the mighty Chief Ulysses; he sat weeping on the shore, Forlorn, for there his custom was with groans Of sad regret t’ afflict his breaking heart. Looking continual o’er the barren Deep. Then thus Calypso, nymph divine, the God Question’d, from her resplendent throne august. Hermes! possessor of the potent rod! Who, though by me much reverenc’d and belov’d, So seldom com’st, say, wherefore comest now? Speak thy desire; I grant it, if thou ask Things possible, and possible to me. Stay not, but ent’ring farther, at my board Due rites of hospitality receive. So saying, the Goddess with ambrosial food Her table cover’d, and with rosy juice Nectareous charged the cup. Then ate and drank The argicide and herald of the skies, And in his soul with that repast divine Refresh’d, his message to the nymph declared. Questionest thou, O Goddess, me a God? I tell thee truth, since such is thy demand. Not willing, but by Jove constrain’d, I come. Enormous measure of the salt expanse, Where city none is seen in which the Gods Are served with chosen hecatombs and pray’r? But no divinity may the designs Elude, or controvert, of Jove supreme. He saith, that here thou hold’st the most distrest Of all those warriors who nine years assail’d The city of Priam, and, (that city sack’d) Departed in the tenth; but, going thence, Offended Pallas, who with adverse winds Opposed their voyage, and with boist’rous waves. Then perish’d all his gallant friends, but him Billows and storms drove hither; Jove commands That thou dismiss him hence without delay, For fate ordains him not to perish here From all his friends remote, but he is doom’d To see them yet again, and to arrive At his own palace in his native land. He said; divine Calypso at the sound Shudder’d, and in wing’d accents thus replied. Ye are unjust, ye Gods, and envious past All others, grudging if a Goddess take A mortal man openly to her arms! So, when the rosy-finger’d Morning chose Orion, though ye live yourselves at ease, Yet ye all envied her, until the chaste Diana from her golden throne dispatch’d A silent shaft, which slew him in Ortygia. So, when the golden-tressed Ceres, urged By passion, took IÄsion to her arms In a thrice-labour’d fallow, not untaught Was Jove that secret long, and, hearing it, Indignant, slew him with his candent bolt. So also, O ye Gods, ye envy me The mortal man, my comfort. Him I saved Myself, while solitary on his keel He rode, for with his sulph’rous arrow Jove Had cleft his bark amid the sable Deep. Then perish’d all his gallant friends, but him Billows and storms drove hither, whom I lov’d Sincere, and fondly destin’d to a life Immortal, unobnoxious to decay. Elude or controvert of Jove supreme, Hence with him o’er the barren Deep, if such The Sov’reign’s will, and such his stern command. But undismiss’d he goes by me, who ships Myself well-oar’d and mariners have none To send with him athwart the spacious flood; Yet freely, readily, my best advice I will afford him, that, escaping all Danger, he may regain his native shore. Then Hermes thus, the messenger of heav’n. Act as thou say’st, fearing the frown of Jove, Lest, if provoked, he spare not even thee. So saying, the dauntless Argicide withdrew, And she (Jove’s mandate heard) all-graceful went, Seeking the brave Ulysses; on the shore She found him seated; tears succeeding tears Delug’d his eyes, while, hopeless of return, Life’s precious hours to eating cares he gave Continual, with the nymph now charm’d no more. Yet, cold as she was am’rous, still he pass’d His nights beside her in the hollow grot, Constrain’d, and day by day the rocks among Which lined the shore heart-broken sat, and oft While wistfully he eyed the barren Deep, Wept, groaned, desponded, sigh’d, and wept again. Then, drawing near, thus spake the nymph divine. Unhappy! weep not here, nor life consume In anguish; go; thou hast my glad consent. Arise to labour; hewing down the trunks Of lofty trees, fashion them with the ax To a broad raft, which closely floor’d above, Shall hence convey thee o’er the gloomy Deep. Bread, water, and the red grape’s cheering juice Myself will put on board, which shall preserve Thy life from famine; I will also give New raiment for thy limbs, and will dispatch Winds after thee to waft thee home unharm’d, If such the pleasure of the Gods who dwell In yonder boundless heav’n, superior far To me, in knowledge and in skill to judge. She ceas’d; but horror at that sound the heart Chill’d of Ulysses, and in accents wing’d Ah! other thoughts than of my safe return Employ thee, Goddess, now, who bid’st me pass The perilous gulph of Ocean on a raft, That wild expanse terrible, which even ships Pass not, though form’d to cleave their way with ease, And joyful in propitious winds from Jove. No—let me never, in despight of thee, Embark on board a raft, nor till thou swear, O Goddess! the inviolable oath, That future mischief thou intend’st me none. He said; Calypso, beauteous Goddess, smiled, And, while she spake, stroaking his cheek, replied. Thou dost asperse me rudely, and excuse Of ignorance hast none, far better taught; What words were these? How could’st thou thus reply? Now hear me Earth, and the wide Heav’n above! Hear, too, ye waters of the Stygian stream Under the earth (by which the blessed Gods Swear trembling, and revere the awful oath!) That future mischief I intend thee none. No, my designs concerning thee are such As, in an exigence resembling thine, Myself, most sure, should for myself conceive. I have a mind more equal, not of steel My heart is form’d, but much to pity inclined. So saying, the lovely Goddess with swift pace Led on, whose footsteps he as swift pursued. Within the vaulted cavern they arrived, The Goddess and the man; on the same throne Ulysses sat, whence Hermes had aris’n, And viands of all kinds, such as sustain The life of mortal man, Calypso placed Before him, both for bev’rage and for food. She opposite to the illustrious Chief Reposed, by her attendant maidens served With nectar and ambrosia. They their hands Stretch’d forth together to the ready feast, And when nor hunger more nor thirst remain’d Unsated, thus the beauteous nymph began. Laertes’ noble son, for wisdom famed And artifice! oh canst thou thus resolve To seek, incontinent, thy native shores? The woes which fate ordains thee to endure Ere yet thou reach thy country, well-content Here to inhabit, thou would’st keep my grot And be immortal, howsoe’er thy wife Engage thy ev’ry wish day after day. Yet can I not in stature or in form Myself suspect inferior aught to her, Since competition cannot be between Mere mortal beauties, and a form divine. To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied. Awful Divinity! be not incensed. I know that my Penelope in form And stature altogether yields to thee, For she is mortal, and immortal thou, From age exempt; yet not the less I wish My home, and languish daily to return. But should some God amid the sable Deep Dash me again into a wreck, my soul Shall bear that also; for, by practice taught, I have learned patience, having much endured By tempest and in battle both. Come then This evil also! I am well prepared. He ended, and the sun sinking, resign’d The earth to darkness. Then in a recess Interior of the cavern, side by side Reposed, they took their amorous delight. But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn, Look’d rosy forth, Ulysses then in haste Put on his vest and mantle, and, the nymph Her snowy vesture of transparent woof, Graceful, redundant; to her waist she bound Her golden zone, and veil’d her beauteous head, Then, musing, plann’d the noble Chief’s return. She gave him, fitted to the grasp, an ax Of iron, pond’rous, double-edg’d, with haft Of olive-wood, inserted firm, and wrought With curious art. Then, placing in his hand A polish’d adze, she led, herself, the way To her isles’ utmost verge, where tallest trees But dry long since and sapless stood, which best Might serve his purposes, as buoyant most, The alder, poplar, and cloud-piercing fir. Seeking her grot again. Then slept not He, But, swinging with both hands the ax, his task Soon finish’d; trees full twenty to the ground He cast, which, dext’rous, with his adze he smooth’d, The knotted surface chipping by a line. Meantime the lovely Goddess to his aid Sharp augres brought, with which he bored the beams, Then, side by side placing them, fitted each To other, and with long cramps join’d them all. Broad as an artist, skill’d in naval works, The bottom of a ship of burthen spreads, Such breadth Ulysses to his raft assign’d. He deck’d her over with long planks, upborne On massy beams; He made the mast, to which He added suitable the yard;—he framed Rudder and helm to regulate her course, With wicker-work he border’d all her length For safety, and much ballast stow’d within. Meantime, Calypso brought him for a sail Fittest materials, which he also shaped, And to his sail due furniture annex’d Of cordage strong, foot-ropes, and ropes aloft, Then heav’d her down with levers to the Deep. He finish’d all his work on the fourth day, And on the fifth, Calypso, nymph divine, Dismiss’d him from her isle, but laved him first, And cloath’d him in sweet-scented garments new. Two skins the Goddess also placed on board, One charg’d with crimson wine, and ampler one With water, nor a bag with food replete Forgot, nutritious, grateful to the taste, Nor yet, her latest gift, a gentle gale And manageable, which Ulysses spread, Exulting, all his canvas to receive. Beside the helm he sat, steering expert, Nor sleep fell ever on his eyes that watch’d Intent the Pleiads, tardy in decline Bootes, and the Bear, call’d else the Wain, Which, in his polar prison circling, looks Direct toward Orion, and alone Of these sinks never to the briny Deep. That star the lovely Goddess bade him hold Ten days and sev’n, he, navigating, cleav’d The brine, and on the eighteenth day, at length, The shadowy mountains of PhÆacia’s land Descried, where nearest to his course it lay Like a broad buckler on the waves afloat. But Neptune, now returning from the land Of Ethiopia, mark’d him on his raft Skimming the billows, from the mountain-tops Of distant Solyma. Inflamed that sight he view’d, his brows he shook, And thus within himself, indignant, spake. So then—new counsels in the skies, it seems, Propitious to Ulysses, have prevail’d Since Æthiopia hath been my abode. He sees PhÆacia nigh, where he must leap The bound’ry of his woes; but ere that hour Arrive, I will ensure him many a groan. So saying, he grasp’d his trident, gather’d dense The clouds and troubled ocean; ev’ry storm From ev’ry point he summon’d, earth and sea Darkening, and the night fell black from heav’n. The East, the South, the heavy-blowing West, And the cold North-wind clear, assail’d at once His raft, and heaved on high the billowy flood. All hope, all courage, in that moment, lost, The Hero thus within himself complain’d. Wretch that I am, what destiny at last Attends me! much I fear the Goddess’ words All true, which threaten’d me with num’rous ills On the wide sea, ere I should reach my home. Behold them all fulfill’d! with what a storm Jove hangs the heav’ns, and agitates the Deep! The winds combined beat on me. Now I sink! Thrice blest, and more than thrice, Achaia’s sons At Ilium slain for the AtridÆ’ sake! Ah, would to heav’n that, dying, I had felt That day the stroke of fate, when me the dead Achilles guarding, with a thousand spears Troy’s furious host assail’d! Funereal rites I then had shared, and praise from ev’ry Greek, Whom now the most inglorious death awaits. Bursting impetuous, whirl’d the raft around, And, dashing from his grasp the helm, himself Plunged far remote. Then came a sudden gust Of mingling winds, that in the middle snapp’d His mast, and, hurried o’er the waves afar, Both sail and sail-yard fell into the flood. Long time submerged he lay, nor could with ease The violence of that dread shock surmount, Or rise to air again, so burthensome His drench’d apparel proved; but, at the last, He rose, and, rising, sputter’d from his lips The brine that trickled copious from his brows. Nor, harass’d as he was, resign’d he yet His raft, but buffetting the waves aside With desp’rate efforts, seized it, and again Fast seated on the middle deck, escaped. Then roll’d the raft at random in the flood, Wallowing unwieldy, toss’d from wave to wave. As when in autumn, Boreas o’er the plain Conglomerated thorns before him drives, They, tangled, to each other close adhere, So her the winds drove wild about the Deep. By turns the South consign’d her to be sport For the rude North-wind, and, by turns, the East Yielded her to the worrying West a prey. But Cadmus̵ 7; beauteous daughter (Ino once, Now named Leucothea) saw him; mortal erst Was she, and trod the earth, Of Ocean since, in honours shares divine. She mark’d his anguish, and, while toss’d he roam’d, Pitied Ulysses; from the flood, in form A cormorant, she flew, and on the raft Close-corded perching, thus the Chief address’d. Alas! unhappy! how hast thou incensed So terribly the Shaker of the shores, That he pursues thee with such num’rous ills? Sink thee he cannot, wish it as he may. Thus do (for I account thee not unwise) Thy garments putting off, let drive thy raft As the winds will, then, swimming, strive to reach Take this. This ribbon bind beneath thy breast, Celestial texture. Thenceforth ev’ry fear Of death dismiss, and, laying once thy hands On the firm continent, unbind the zone, Which thou shalt cast far distant from the shore Into the Deep, turning thy face away. So saying, the Goddess gave into his hand The wond’rous zone, and, cormorant in form, Plunging herself into the waves again Headlong, was hidden by the closing flood. But still Ulysses sat perplex’d, and thus The toil-enduring Hero reason’d sad. Alas! I tremble lest some God design T’ ensnare me yet, bidding me quit the raft. But let me well beware how I obey Too soon that precept, for I saw the land Of my foretold deliv’rance far remote. Thus, therefore, will I do, for such appears My wiser course. So long as yet the planks Mutual adhere, continuing on board My raft, I will endure whatever woes, But when the waves shall shatter it, I will swim, My sole resource then left. While thus he mused, Neptune a billow of enormous bulk Hollow’d into an overwhelming arch On high up-heaving, smote him. As the wind Tempestuous, falling on some stubble-heap, The arid straws dissipates ev’ry way, So flew the timbers. He, a single beam Bestriding, oar’d it onward with his feet, As he had urged an horse. His raiment, then, Gift of Calypso, putting off, he bound His girdle on, and prone into the sea With wide-spread palms prepar’d for swimming, fell. Shore-shaker Neptune noted him; he shook His awful brows, and in his heart he said, Thus, suff’ring many mis’ries roam the flood, Till thou shalt mingle with a race of men Heav’n’s special favourites; yet even there Fear not that thou shalt feel thy sorrows light. He said, and scourging his bright steeds, arrived At ÆgÆ, where his glorious palace stands. Jove’s daughter; ev’ry wind binding beside, She lull’d them, and enjoin’d them all to sleep, But roused swift Boreas, and the billows broke Before Ulysses, that, deliver’d safe From a dire death, the noble Chief might mix With maritime PhÆacia’s sons renown’d. Two nights he wander’d, and two days, the flood Tempestuous, death expecting ev’ry hour; But when Aurora, radiant-hair’d, had brought The third day to a close, then ceas’d the wind, And breathless came a calm; he, nigh at hand The shore beheld, darting acute his sight Toward it, from a billow’s tow’ring top. Precious as to his children seems the life Of some fond father through disease long time And pain stretch’d languid on his couch, the prey Of some vindictive Pow’r, but now, at last, By gracious heav’n to ease and health restored, So grateful to Ulysses’ sight appear’d Forests and hills. Impatient with his feet To press the shore, he swam; but when within Such distance as a shout may fly, he came, The thunder of the sea against the rocks Then smote his ear; for hoarse the billows roar’d On the firm land, belch’d horrible abroad, And the salt spray dimm’d all things to his view. For neither port for ships nor shelt’ring cove Was there, but the rude coast a headland bluff Presented, rocks and craggy masses huge. Then, hope and strength exhausted both, deep-groan’d The Chief, and in his noble heart complain’d. Alas! though Jove hath given me to behold, Unhoped, the land again, and I have pass’d, Furrowing my way, these num’rous waves, there seems No egress from the hoary flood for me. Sharp stones hem in the waters; wild the surge Raves ev’ry where; and smooth the rocks arise; Deep also is the shore, on which my feet No standing gain, or chance of safe escape. What if some billow catch me from the Deep Emerging, and against the pointed rocks Dash me conflicting with its force in vain? Of sloping beach, haven or shelter’d creek, I fear lest, groaning, I be snatch’d again By stormy gusts into the fishy Deep, Or lest some monster of the flood receive Command to seize me, of the many such By the illustrious Amphitrite bred; For that the mighty Shaker |
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