Book VI
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| | Pallas appearing in a dream in to Nausicaa (the daughter of | |
| | Alcinous, king of Phaeacia, commands her to descend to the river, | |
| | and wash the robes of state, in preparation for her nuptials. | |
| | Nausicaa goes with her handmaidens to the river; where, while the | |
| | garments are spread on the bank, they divert themselves in sports. | |
| | Their voices awaken Ulysses, who, addressing himself to the | |
| | princess, is by her relieved and clothed, and receives directions | |
| | in what manner to apply to the king and queen of the island. | |
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| | While thus the weary wanderer sunk to rest, | |
| | And peaceful slumbers calmed his anxious breast, | |
| | The martial maid from heavens aerial height | |
| | Swift to Phaeacia wing'd her rapid flight, | |
| | In elder times the soft Phaeacian train | |
| | In ease possess'd the wide Hyperian plain; | |
| | Till the Cyclopean race in arms arose | |
| | A lawless nation of gigantic foes; | |
| | Then great Nausithous from Hyperia far, | |
| | Through seas retreating from the sounds of war, | |
| | The recreant nation to fair Scheria led, | |
| | Where never science rear'd her laurell'd head; | |
| | There round his tribes a strength of wall he raised; | |
| | To heaven the glittering domes and temples blazed; | |
| | Just to his realms, he parted grounds from grounds, | |
| | And shared the lands, and gave the lands their bounds. | |
| | Now in the silent grave the monarch lay, | |
| | And wise Alcinous held the legal sway. | |
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| | To his high palace through the fields of air | |
| | The goddess shot; Ulysses was her care. | |
| | There, as the night in silence roll'd away, | |
| | A heaven of charms divine Nausicaa lay: | |
| | Through the thick gloom the shining portals blaze; | |
| | Two nymphs the portals guard, each nymph a Grace, | |
| | Light as the viewless air the warrior maid | |
| | Glides through the valves, and hovers round her head; | |
| | A favourite virgin's blooming form she took, | |
| | From Dymas sprung, and thus the vision spoke: | |
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| | "Oh Indolent! to waste thy hours away! | |
| | And sleep'st thou careless of the bridal day! | |
| | Thy spousal ornament neglected lies; | |
| | Arise, prepare the bridal train, arise! | |
| | A just applause the cares of dress impart, | |
| | And give soft transport to a parent's heart. | |
| | Haste, to the limpid stream direct thy way, | |
| | When the gay morn unveils her smiling ray; | |
| | Haste to the stream! companion of thy care, | |
| | Lo, I thy steps attend, thy labours share. | |
| | Virgin, awake! the marriage hour is nigh, | |
| | See from their thrones thy kindred monarchs sigh! | |
| | The royal car at early dawn obtain, | |
| | And order mules obedient to the rein; | |
| | For rough the way, and distant rolls the wave, | |
| | Where their fair vests Phaeacian virgins lave, | |
| | In pomp ride forth; for pomp becomes the great | |
| | And majesty derives a grace from state." | |
| | Then to the palaces of heaven she sails, | |
| | Incumbent on the wings of wafting gales; | |
| | The seat of gods; the regions mild of peace, | |
| | Full joy, and calm eternity of ease. | |
| | There no rude winds presume to shake the skies, | |
| | No rains descend, no snowy vapours rise; | |
| | But on immortal thrones the blest repose; | |
| | The firmament with living splendours glows. | |
| | Hither the goddess winged the aerial way, | |
| | Through heaven's eternal gates that blazed with day. | |
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| | Now from her rosy car Aurora shed | |
| | The dawn, and all the orient flamed with red. | |
| | Up rose the virgin with the morning light, | |
| | Obedient to the vision of the night. | |
| | The queen she sought, the queen her hours bestowed | |
| | In curious works; the whirling spindle glow'd | |
| | With crimson threads, while busy damsels call | |
| | The snowy fleece, or twist the purpled wool. | |
| | Meanwhile Phaeacia's peers in council sate; | |
| | From his high dome the king descends in state; | |
| | Then with a filial awe the royal maid | |
| | Approach'd him passing, and submissive said: | |
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| | "Will my dread sire his ear regardful deign, | |
| | And may his child the royal car obtain? | |
| | Say, with my garments shall I bend my way? | |
| | Where through the vales the mazy waters stray? | |
| | A dignity of dress adorns the great, | |
| | And kings draw lustre from the robe of state. | |
| | Five sons thou hast; three wait the bridal day. | |
| | And spotless robes become the young and gay; | |
| | So when with praise amid the dance they shine, | |
| | By these my cares adorn'd that praise is mine." | |
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| | Thus she: but blushes ill-restrain'd betray | |
| | Her thoughts intentive on the bridal day, | |
| | The conscious sire the dawning blush survey'd, | |
| | And, smiling, thus bespoke the blooming maid | |
| | "My child, my darling joy, the car receive; | |
| | That, and whate'er our daughter asks, we give." | |
| | Swift at the royal nod the attending train | |
| | The car prepare, the mules incessant rein, | |
| | The blooming virgin with despatchful cares | |
| | Tunics, and stoles, and robes imperial, bears. | |
| | The queen, assiduous to her train assigns | |
| | The sumptuous viands, and the flavorous wines. | |
| | The train prepare a cruse of curious mould, | |
| | A cruse of fragrance, form'd of burnish'd gold; | |
| | Odour divine! whose soft refreshing streams | |
| | Sleek the smooth skin, and scent the snowy limbs. | |
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| | Now mounting the gay seat, the silken reins | |
| | Shine in her hand; along the sounding plains | |
| | Swift fly the mules; nor rode the nymph alone; | |
| | Around, a bevy of bright damsels shone. | |
| | They seek the cisterns where Phaeacian dames | |
| | Wash their fair garments in the limpid streams; | |
| | Where, gathering into depth from falling rills, | |
| | The lucid wave a spacious bason fills. | |
| | The mules, unharness'd, range beside the main, | |
| | Or crop the verdant herbage of the plain. | |
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| | Then emulous the royal robes they lave, | |
| | And plunge the vestures in the cleansing wave | |
| | (The vestures cleansed o'erspread the shelly sand, | |
| | Their snowy lustre whitens all the strand); | |
| | Then with a short repast relieve their toil, | |
| | And o'er their limbs diffuse ambrosial oil; | |
| | And while the robes imbibe the solar ray, | |
| | O'er the green mead the sporting virgins play | |
| | (Their shining veils unbound). Along the skies, | |
| | Toss'd and retoss'd, the ball incessant flies. | |
| | They sport, they feast; Nausicaa lifts her voice, | |
| | And, warbling sweet, makes earth and heaven rejoice. | |
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| | As when o'er Erymanth Diana roves, | |
| | Or wide Tuygetus' resounding groves ; | |
| | A sylvan train the huntress queen surrounds, | |
| | Her rattling quiver from her shoulders sounds: | |
| | Fierce in the sport, along the mountain's brow | |
| | They bay the boar, or chase the bounding roe; | |
| | High o'er the lawn, with more majestic pace, | |
| | Above the nymphs she treads with stately grace; | |
| | Distinguish'd excellence the goddess proves; | |
| | Exults Latona as the virgin moves. | |
| | With equal grace Nausicaa trod the plain, | |
| | And shone transcendent o'er the beauteous train. | |
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| | Meantime (the care and favourite of the skies | |
| | Wrapp'd in imbowering shade, Ulysses lies, | |
| | His woes forgot! but Pallas now address'd | |
| | To break the bands of all-composing rest. | |
| | Forth from her snowy hand Nausicaa threw | |
| | The various ball; the ball erroneous flew | |
| | And swam the stream; loud shrieks the virgin train, | |
| | And the loud shriek redoubles from the main. | |
| | Waked by the shrilling sound, Ulysses rose, | |
| | And, to the deaf woods wailing, breathed his woes: | |
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| | "Ah me! on what inhospitable coast, | |
| | On what new region is Ulysses toss'd; | |
| | Possess'd by wild barbarians fierce in arms; | |
| | Or men, whose bosom tender pity warms? | |
| | What sounds are these that gather from he shores? | |
| | The voice of nymphs that haunt the sylvan bowers, | |
| | The fair-hair'd Dryads of the shady wood; | |
| | Or azure daughters of the silver flood; | |
| | Or human voice? but issuing from the shades, | |
| | Why cease I straight to learn what sound invades?" | |
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| | Then, where the grove with leaves umbrageous bends, | |
| | With forceful strength a branch the hero rends; | |
| | Around his loins the verdant cincture spreads | |
| | A wreathy foliage and concealing shades. | |
| | As when a lion in the midnight hours, | |
| | Beat by rude blasts, and wet with wintry showers, | |
| | Descends terrific from the mountains brow; | |
| | With living flames his rolling eye balls glow; | |
| | With conscious strength elate, he bends his way, | |
| | Majestically fierce, to seize his prey | |
| | (The steer or stag;) or, with keen hunger bold, | |
| | Spring o'er the fence and dissipates the fold. | |
| | No less a terror, from the neighbouring groves | |
| | (Rough from the tossing surge) Ulysses moves; | |
| | Urged on by want, and recent from the storms; | |
| | The brackish ooze his manly grace deforms. | |
| | Wide o'er the shore with many a piercing cry | |
| | To rocks, to caves, the frightened virgins fly; | |
| | All but the nymph; the nymph stood fix'd alone, | |
| | By Pallas arm'd with boldness not her own. | |
| | Meantime in dubious thought the king awaits, | |
| | And, self-considering, as he stands, debates; | |
| | Distant his mournful story to declare, | |
| | Or prostrate at her knee address the prayer. | |
| | But fearful to offend, by wisdom sway'd, | |
| | At awful distance he accosts the maid: | |
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| | "If from the skies a goddess, or if earth | |
| | (Imperial virgin) boast thy glorious birth, | |
| | To thee I bend! If in that bright disguise | |
| | Thou visit earth, a daughter of the skies, | |
| | Hail, Dian, hail! the huntress of the groves | |
| | So shines majestic, and so stately moves, | |
| | So breathes an air divine! But if thy race | |
| | Be mortal, and this earth thy native place, | |
| | Blest is the father from whose loins you sprung, | |
| | Blest is the mother at whose breast you hung. | |
| | Blest are the brethren who thy blood divide, | |
| | To such a miracle of charms allied: | |
| | Joyful they see applauding princes gaze, | |
| | When stately in the dance you swim the harmonious maze. | |
| | But blest o'er all, the youth with heavenly charms, | |
| | Who clasps the bright perfection in his arms! | |
| | Never, I never view'd till this blast hour | |
| | Such finish'd grace! I gaze, and I adore! | |
| | Thus seems the palm with stately honours crown'd | |
| | By Phoebus' altars; thus o'erlooks the ground; | |
| | The pride of Delos. (By the Delian coast, | |
| | I voyaged, leader of a warrior-host, | |
| | But ah, how changed I from thence my sorrow flows; | |
| | O fatal voyage, source of all my woes;) | |
| | Raptured I stood, and as this hour amazed, | |
| | With reverence at the lofty wonder gazed: | |
| | Raptured I stand! for earth ne'er knew to bear | |
| | A plant so stately, or a nymph so fair. | |
| | Awed from access, I lift my suppliant hands; | |
| | For Misery, O queen! before thee stands. | |
| | Twice ten tempestuous nights I roll'd, resign'd | |
| | To roaring blows, and the warring wind; | |
| | Heaven bade the deep to spare; but heaven, my foe, | |
| | Spares only to inflict some mightier woe. | |
| | Inured to cares, to death in all its forms; | |
| | Outcast I rove, familiar with the storms. | |
| | Once more I view the face of human kind: | |
| | Oh let soft pity touch thy generous mind! | |
| | Unconscious of what air I breathe, I stand | |
| | Naked, defenceless on a narrow land. | |
| | Propitious to my wants a vest supply | |
| | To guard the wretched from the inclement sky: | |
| | So may the gods, who heaven and earth control, | |
| | Crown the chaste wishes of thy virtuous soul, | |
| | On thy soft hours their choicest blessings shed; | |
| | Blest with a husband be thy bridal bed; | |
| | Blest be thy husband with a blooming race, | |
| | And lasting union crown your blissful days. | |
| | The gods, when they supremely bless, bestow | |
| | Firm union on their favourites below; | |
| | Then envy grieves, with inly-pining hate; | |
| | The good exult, and heaven is in our state." | |
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| | To whom the nymph: "O stranger, cease thy care; | |
| | Wise is thy soul, but man is bore to bear; | |
| | Jove weighs affairs of earth in dubious scales, | |
| | And the good suffers, while the bad prevails. | |
| | Bear, with a soul resign'd, the will of Jove; | |
| | Who breathes, must mourn: thy woes are from above. | |
| | But since thou tread'st our hospitable shore, | |
| | 'Tis mine to bid the wretched grieve no more, | |
| | To clothe the naked, and thy way to guide. | |
| | Know, the Phaecian tribes this land divide; | |
| | From great Alcinous' royal loins I spring, | |
| | A happy nation, and a happy king." | |
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| | Then to her maids: "Why, why, ye coward train, | |
| | These fears, this flight? ye fear, and fly in vain. | |
| | Dread ye a foe? dismiss that idle dread, | |
| | 'Tis death with hostile step these shores to tread; | |
| | Safe in the love of heaven, an ocean flows | |
| | Around our realm, a barrier from the foes; | |
| | 'Tis ours this son of sorrow to relieve, | |
| | Cheer the sad heart, nor let affliction grieve. | |
| | By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent; | |
| | And what to those we give to Jove is lent. | |
| | Then food supply, and bathe his fainting limbs | |
| | Where waving shades obscure the mazy streams." | |
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| | Obedient to the call, the chief they guide | |
| | To the calm current of the secret tide; | |
| | Close by the stream a royal dress they lay, | |
| | A vest and robe, with rich embroidery gay; | |
| | Then unguents in a vase of gold supply, | |
| | That breathed a fragrance through the balmy sky. | |
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| | To them the king: "No longer I detain | |
| | Your friendly care: retire, ye virgin train! | |
| | Retire, while from my wearied limbs I lave | |
| | The foul pollution of the briny wave. | |
| | Ye gods! since this worn frame refection know, | |
| | What scenes have I surveyed of dreadful view! | |
| | But, nymphs, recede! sage chastity denies | |
| | To raise the blush, or pain the modest eyes." | |
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| | The nymphs withdrawn, at once into the tide | |
| | Active he bounds; the flashing waves divide | |
| | O'er all his limbs his hands the waves diffuse, | |
| | And from his locks compress the weedy ooze; | |
| | The balmy oil, a fragrant shower, be sheds; | |
| | Then, dressed, in pomp magnificently treads. | |
| | The warrior-goddess gives his frame to shine | |
| | With majesty enlarged, and air divine: | |
| | Back from his brows a length of hair unfurls, | |
| | His hyacinthine locks descend in wavy curls. | |
| | As by some artist, to whom Vulcan gives | |
| | His skill divine, a breathing statue lives; | |
| | By Pallas taught, he frames the wondrous mould, | |
| | And o'er the silver pours the fusile gold | |
| | So Pallas his heroic frame improves | |
| | With heavenly bloom, and like a god he moves. | |
| | A fragrance breathes around; majestic grace | |
| | Attends his steps: the astonished virgins gaze. | |
| | Soft he reclines along the murmuring seas, | |
| | Inhaling freshness from the fanning breeze. | |
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| | The wondering nymph his glorious port survey'd, | |
| | And to her damsels, with amazement, said: | |
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| | "Not without care divine the stranger treads | |
| | This land of joy; his steps some godhead leads: | |
| | Would Jove destroy him, sure he had been driven | |
| | Far from this realm, the favourite isle of heaven. | |
| | Late, a sad spectacle of woe, he trod | |
| | The desert sands, and now be looks a god. | |
| | Oh heaven! in my connubial hour decree | |
| | This man my spouse, or such a spouse as he! | |
| | But haste, the viands and the bowl provide." | |
| | The maids the viands and the bowl supplied: | |
| | Eager he fed, for keen his hunger raged, | |
| | And with the generous vintage thirst assuaged. | |
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| | Now on return her care Nausicaa bends, | |
| | The robes resumes, the glittering car ascends, | |
| | Far blooming o'er the field; and as she press'd | |
| | The splendid seat, the listening chief address'd: | |
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| | "Stranger, arise! the sun rolls down the day. | |
| | Lo, to the palace I direct thy way; | |
| | Where, in high state, the nobles of the land | |
| | Attend my royal sire, a radiant band | |
| | But hear, though wisdom in thy soul presides, | |
| | Speaks from thy tongue, and every action guides; | |
| | Advance at distance, while I pass the plain | |
| | Where o'er the furrows waves the golden grain; | |
| | Alone I reascend—With airy mounds | |
| | A strength of wall the guarded city bounds; | |
| | The jutting land two ample bays divides: | |
| | Full through the narrow mouths descend the tides; | |
| | The spacious basons arching rocks enclose, | |
| | A sure defence from every storm that blows. | |
| | Close to the bay great Neptune's fane adjoins; | |
| | And near, a forum flank'd with marble shines, | |
| | Where the bold youth, the numerous fleets to store, | |
| | Shape the broad sail, or smooth the taper oar: | |
| | For not the bow they bend, nor boast the skill | |
| | To give the feather'd arrow wings to kill; | |
| | But the tall mast above the vessel rear, | |
| | Or teach the fluttering sail to float in air. | |
| | They rush into the deep with eager joy, | |
| | Climb the steep surge, and through the tempest fly; | |
| | A proud, unpolish'd race—To me belongs | |
| | The care to shun the blast of slanderous tongues; | |
| | Lest malice, prone the virtuous to defame, | |
| | Thus with wild censure taint my spotless name: | |
| | 'What stranger this whom thus Nausicaa leads! | |
| | Heavens, with what graceful majesty he treads! | |
| | Perhaps a native of some distant shore, | |
| | The future consort of her bridal hour: | |
| | Or rather some descendant of the skies; | |
| | Won by her prayer, the aerial bridegroom flies, | |
| | Heaven on that hour its choicest influence shed, | |
| | That gave a foreign spouse to crown her bed! | |
| | All, all the godlike worthies that adorn | |
| | This realm, she flies: Phaeacia is her scorn.' | |
| | And just the blame: for female innocence | |
| | Not only flies the guilt, but shuns the offence: | |
| | The unguarded virgin, as unchaste, I blame; | |
| | And the least freedom with the sex is shame, | |
| | Till our consenting sires a spouse provide, | |
| | And public nuptials justify the bride, | |
| | But would'st thou soon review thy native plain? | |
| | Attend, and speedy thou shalt pass the main: | |
| | Nigh where a grove with verdant poplars crown'd, | |
| | To Pallas sacred, shades the holy ground, | |
| | We bend our way; a bubbling fount distills | |
| | A lucid lake, and thence descends in rills; | |
| | Around the grove, a mead with lively green | |
| | Falls by degrees, and forms a beauteous scene; | |
| | Here a rich juice the royal vineyard pours; | |
| | And there the garden yields a waste of flowers. | |
| | Hence lies the town, as far as to the ear | |
| | Floats a strong shout along the waves of air. | |
| | There wait embower'd, while I ascend alone | |
| | To great Alcinous on his royal throne. | |
| | Arrived, advance, impatient of delay, | |
| | And to the lofty palace bend thy way: | |
| | The lofty palace overlooks the town, | |
| | From every dome by pomp superior known; | |
| | A child may point the way. With earnest gait | |
| | Seek thou the queen along the rooms of state; | |
| | Her royal hand a wondrous work designs, | |
| | Around a circle of bright damsels shines; | |
| | Part twist the threads, and part the wool dispose, | |
| | While with the purple orb the spindle glows. | |
| | High on a throne, amid the Scherian powers, | |
| | My royal father shares the genial hours: | |
| | But to the queen thy mournful tale disclose, | |
| | With the prevailing eloquence of woes: | |
| | So shalt thou view with joy thy natal shore, | |
| | Though mountains rise between and oceans roar." | |
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| | She added not, but waving, as she wheel'd, | |
| | The silver scourge, it glitter'd o'er the field; | |
| | With skill the virgin guides the embroider'd rein, | |
| | Slow rolls the car before the attending train, | |
| | Now whirling down the heavens, the golden day | |
| | Shot through the western clouds a dewy ray; | |
| | The grove they reach, where, from the sacred shade, | |
| | To Pallas thus the pensive hero pray'd: | |
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| | "Daughter of Jove! whose arms in thunder wield | |
| | The avenging bolt, and shake the dreadful shield; | |
| | Forsook by thee, in vain I sought thy aid | |
| | When booming billows closed above my bead; | |
| | Attend, unconquer'd maid! accord my vows, | |
| | Bid the Great hear, and pitying, heal my woes." | |
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| | This heard Minerva, but forbore to fly | |
| | (By Neptune awed) apparent from the sky; | |
| | Stern god! who raged with vengeance, unrestrain'd. | |
| | Till great Ulysses hail'd his native land. | |
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