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The English Works of Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury; Now First Collected and Edited by Sir William Molesworth, Bart., (London: Bohn, 1839-45). 11 vols. Vol. 10.

Author: Homer
Translator: Thomas Hobbes
Editor: Sir William Molesworth

Part of: The English Works of Thomas Hobbes, 11 vols.

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LIB. XIII.

Ulysses sleeping is set ashore at Ithaca by the Phæacians, and waking knows it not. Pallas in form of a shepherd helps to hide his treasure. The ship that conveyed him turned into a rock; and Ulysses by Pallas is instructed what to do, and transformed into an old beggar-man.
This said, all silent and delighted were.
Alcinous then said, Ulysses, since
You safely to me are arrived here,
You shall not lose your way in going hence.
5But, princes, you that daily with me sit,

Drinking good wine and hearing music sweet,
And given to the stranger have what’s fit,
I’ll tell you what yet farther I think meet.
Garments he has a chest full, and good store
10Of gold, plate, and of other gifts he has.

Take my advice. Let each man give him more,
A cauldron, or a three-foot pot of brass.
I know to each man ’twill be too great largess,
But by the people’s contribution
15We’ll make amends; the town shall bear the charges.

The motion pleas’d, and ’twas agreed upon.
Then went they every man to his repose.
And soon as morning did again appear,
Aboard the ship the vessels they dispose,
Ulysses sleeping is set ashore at Ithaca.
20Alcinous himself directed where.

And then into the palace they return,
And sacrifice to Jove a well-fed beast;
The thighs upon the altar there they burn,
And with the rest they make themselves a feast.
25Demodocus before them sung and play’d,

Who for his art was famous in the town.
Ulysses to the sun look’d up, and stay’d
Longing and wishing that it would go down;
As one that hath at plough been all the day,
30Hungry his belly, feeble is his knee,

Beholds the setting of the sun with joy;
So glad Ulysses was sunset to see.
Then to Alcinous and all the rest,
Offer, said he, unto the Gods their wine.
35I have already all that I request,

And many gifts, which may the pow’rs divine
Make happy to me. Let me now depart,
That I may see my dear wife and my friends.
And blest may you stay here with joy at heart,
40Comfort your wives, and obtain all your ends;

And strong and worthy children may you have,
Nor ’mongst the people trouble or disease.
This said, they prais’d him all, and counsel gave
The stranger to conduct safe o’er the seas.
45Alcinous then call’d for wine, and bad

Pontonous present it to each one,
Until unto the Gods all offer’d had,
That so Ulysses the sooner might be gone.
Pontonous brought wine, and carried it
50From man to man, and each man drank his cup,

Blessing the Gods in order as they sit.
When all had drunk, Ulysses standeth up,
And speaking to queen Arete, he said:
Happy for ever may you be, O queen.
55I take my leave. Be you for ever joy’d

In king Alcinous as you have been,
And in your children and your people all.
And when he this had said, away he went.
Alcinous did then a squire call,
60Whom with Ulysses to the ship he sent.

Arete to her women sent. One brought
Fine bread and store of black wine of the best;
Another brought with her a cloak and coat;
Another brought, to lay them in, a chest,
65Which by the mariners were quickly stow’d

Aboard the good ship, with the wine and bread.
And for Ulysses many rugs they strew’d
O’ th’ deck, astern, with linen at his head.
And then aboard he went. When he was lain,
70Their seats they take, and parted from the strand,

Reclining dash’d with oars the liquid plain,
While sleep Ulysses bound had foot and hand.
As when four horses gallop o’er a plain,
The way runs swiftly by the coach’s side;
75So did the good ship mount upon the main,

And to the stern the water swiftly glide,
A hawk could hardly with it have kept pace,
A hawk that of all fowl the swiftest flies;
So swiftly ran the ship on th’ ocean’s face,
80And with her breast the rising water slice;

Bearing a man for wisdom like a God,
That pass’d had fearful billows on the deep,
And many bloody paths of war had trod,
The thought whereof was now removed by sleep.
85Above the earth now risen was the star,

Day’s messenger, and brightest of the sky.
The ship was then from Ithaca not far.
A port there is, which from a deity
Is called Phorcys, a sea-deity.
90Two jetting rocks defend it from the wind;

When once within, a ship will safely lie,
There needs no cord a floating ship to bind.
At the port’s head grows a large olive-tree,
And near it an obscure and pleasant cave,
95Where the Nereiades delight to be,

And there they bowls of stone and beakers have;
The bees make honey there. Besides, there be
Long beams of stone, whereon the nymphs do weave
Rich purple garments, wonderful to see,
100And fountains which their running never leave.

Two doors there are, one north, men go that way;
The other to the south more sacred is,
Th’ immortals here go in, and none but they;
The Gods have to themselves reserved this.
105All this Ulysses’ convoy knew before;

And here the ship arrived, safely lands,
And half her length lay dry upon the shore,
Such was the strength of those Phæacian hands.
The lusty seamen, when they landed were,
110First took Ulysses, sleeping as he lay,

Bedding and all, and to the land him bear,
And lay him from the sea a little way:
Then they unship his goods, gold, vestures, brass,
Gifts given him by the Phæacians;
115Which at the foot of the olive-tree they place,

Out of the way, lest passengers should chance
To steal them while Ulysses was asleep.
When this was done, the convoy stayed not,
But rowed out the ship into the deep.
The ship that conveyed him turned to a rock.
120Nor Neptune had Ulysses yet forgot,

But said to Jupiter, complaining then:
What honour from the Gods can I expect,
When the Phæacians, that are but men,
(Although descended from me), me neglect?
125For though Ulysses I destroyed not,

Because his coming home you had decreed;
Yet that he should be brought home thus, ne’er thought,
Asleep, and painless, and with so much speed,
Enrich’d with gold, and brass, and vestures store,
130As much as had come to his share at Troy.

This the Phæacians have done, and more,
In this licentiousness they take a joy.
Then answered Jove: Neptune, what’s this you say?
The Gods neglect you not. It cannot be,
135That are the eldest and of greatest sway

Of any of them. If man injure thee,
To take revenge enough your own pow’r is.
I will not hinder you, do what you please.
To Jupiter then Neptune answer’d this:
140I could, O Jove, have been reveng’d with ease,

But that I fear’d you would offended be.
And now I’ll tell you what I mean to do.
As soon as I the ship returning see,
I’ll fix it, that they may no more do so;
145Besides, their city with a hill I’ll hide.

O but, said Jupiter, were it my case,
When from the city people all espied
The ship hard by, I would a rock there place
In likeness of a ship not far from land,
150To make men wonder, and then round about

The city make a mighty mountain stand.
This said by Jove, the God of Seas went out
To Scheria, where the Phæacians
First planted were. The ship came swiftly on,
155And on it Neptune laid his mighty hands,

And roots it in the sea, turn’d into stone.
The rowers t’ one another say, What’s this?
Who hath our good ship fixed in the water?
And yet above the water still it is.
160Thus said they, but knew nothing of the matter.

Then spake Alcinous. Performed, said he,
Is what long since I heard my father say,
That Neptune angry was that strangers we,
Whoe’er they were, do to their homes convey,
165And threatened had with a great hill to hide

The city, and destroy the passage-boat.
This by my father then was prophecied,
And now, you see, at last about ’tis brought.
Therefore be rul’d by me. Convoy no more;
Ulysses by Pallas is instructed what to do.
170But let us unto Neptune sacrifice

Twelve chosen bullocks, and his grace implore
To set no hill there. So did he advise.
And then to Neptune they their prayers make
Standing at th’ altar, king and princes all.
175And now Ulysses lying was awake,

But to his mind the place could not recal;
For Pallas had about him cast a mist,
That at his coming he might not be known;
But she herself instruct him as she list,
180Till he the suitors all had overthrown.

All things seem’d to him other than they were,
Paths, highways, creeks, havens, trees, and rocks;
And rising up he was he knew not where,
And with his open hand his thigh he knocks.
185Ay me, said he, whither am I come now?

To civil, or to wild and lawless men?
Where shall I hide my treasure? Whither go?
Would I were at Phæacia agen.
To other friends I might have gone from thence,
190And t’ Ithaca obtained a convoy,

Here for my treasure I see no defence.
Left here to others they will be a prey.
I see the princes of Phæacia
Are not so just as I take them to be.
195They promis’d to set me at Ithaca,

But have to some place else transported me.
Jove, that sees all, and punisheth the ill,
Will be revenged also of these men.
But come, my presents number now I will,
200The seamen may have ta’en some back agen.

His garments and his plate then number’d he,
And nothing missing was of all his pelf.
Then walk’d he softly along by the sea,
Lamenting and bewailing of himself.
205And then came Pallas to him. She had on

The body of a shepherd young and tender,
As if she had of some prince been the son;
Lin’d was his coat, the thread was fine and slender,
With dart in hand, and fine shoes on his feet.
210Ulysses, who beheld her, was much joy’d,

And forth himself advanced, her to meet.
And first he to her spake, and thus he said:
Joy to you be, and good-will towards me;
Save for me these my goods, and save me too.
215You are the first I meet here; at your knee

I bow myself, as men bow Gods unto.
Tell me, I pray you, true: What land is this?
What town? Th’ inhabitants what men?
An isle, or of the continent a piece?
And in the form of a shepherd, helps to hide his treasure.
220To this the Goddess answered agen.

Simple you are, or very far hence dwell,
To ask what country this is. For ’tis not
A place obscure; for known ’tis very well
Both east and west, though but a little spot,
225And rugged ground, nto fit for galloping;

Yet corn it bears abundantly and wine;
And is well watered both with dew and spring,
And nourisheth great herds of goats and kine.
Of wood of ev’ry sort there is good store.
230Though from Achæa far men say is Troy,

Yet Ithaca is talk’d of on that shore.
These words unto Ulysses were great joy.
And to the Goddess then he answered:
(Falsely; on fables keeping still his hold,
235As one that always plots hath in his head):

I have, said he, of Ithaca been told,
Far hence in Crete, and now am thither come
With these my goods; but leaving to my child
About as much as I brought out from home;
240And here I am alone, a man exil’d.

For of Idomeneus I kill’d the son,
Orsilochus, for swiftness of his feet
So excellent, there was not any one
That could out-run him in the isle of Crete.
245Because I had refused a command

Under his father at the siege of Troy,
And would command my own, he took in hand
To have depriv’d me of my share o’ th’ prey,
Which to my dangers and my deeds was due.
250For which, by night, with one companion,

Near the highway, I with my spear him slew,
And in the dark escap’d when I had done.
And to Phœnicia by sea I went;
And hired with a good part of my prey
255To Pylus or to Elis to be sent.

But adverse winds forc’d us another way.
And wandering, there arrived in the night.
And straight into this port we brought the bark,
Ne’er thought of food, though very well we might,
260But went ashore, and lay down in the dark,

And there I slept. The mariners meanwhile
Take out my goods and lay them on the shore,
And back unto Sidonia they sail,
And after that I never saw them more.
265At this the goddess smil’d, and strok’d his head,

And in a woman’s shape before him stood,
Of stature tall and like to one well bred.
The craft that catches you had need be good.
You cannot, though at home, your wiles forego,
Pallas helps to hide his treasure.
270And your feign’d stories, though there be no need,

So close they stick to you from top to toe.
But now no more of that; for ’tis agreed,
’Mongst mortals you, amongst immortals I,
For counsel and invention excel.
275Did you not know me, that perpetually

Have at your need assisted you so well?
And now am come to help you to secure
The rich Phæacian presents you have here,
And tell you what at home you must endure?
280Affronts and scorns, you shall find many there.

Then said Ulysses, Difficult it is
For any mortal man, though very wise,
To know a God, that can their form dismiss,
And, when they will, put on a new disguise.
285When th’ Argive army was besieging Troy,

Goddess, I know how gracious you were then;
But after (the town sack’d) we came away,
And scatter’d had the Gods our ships and men,
And I was wand’ring on the ocean wide,
290I never saw you, never had your aid,

Save at Phæacia you were pleas’d to guide
Me to the town, and hasten me dismay’d.
But I beseech you (for still do I doubt
This is not Ithaca that I am at,
295But some place else, and that you go about

With comforts feign’d my sorrows to abate)
Tell me if this my country be indeed?
Pallas said then, Suspicious still you are;
I cannot, therefore, leave you in your need,
300Since wise you be, and willing to beware.

Another man that had been long away,
Had straight gone home to see his wife and son;
But that for you is not the safest way,
Nor had it yet been opportunely done.
305Know how she’ll take it first. She keeps within,

And spends in weeping both the night and day.
I know full well the Fates his coming spin,
But that his mates shall first be cast away.
But with my uncle Neptune had no mind
310To be at odds, that in such choler is,

For making of his son the Cyclops blind.
But come, I’ll shew you Ithaca. First, this
The port of Phorcys is; this th’ olive-tree,
There near it is the gloomy cavern, where
315The nymphs Naiades invoked be,

And by you in that cave much worshipp’d were.
The hill so cloth’d with wood is Neriton.
This said, the mist dissolves, and then Ulysses
His native country joyful looks upon,
320And falling on his knees, the soil he kisses.

And then to the Naiades he pray’d,
Hail! Daughters of high Jove, Naiades,
Ne’er to have seen you more I was afraid;
But oft we shall again, if Pallas please
325To give me life, and prosper my dear son,

Your altar fill with gifts as heretofore.
The Goddess Pallas, when his pray’r was done,
Answer’d, Let that thought trouble you no more.
But come, let’s now see how your goods to save,
330Now presently. ’Twere well that they were laid

Within some rock at bottom of the cave.
Then went she in, and caves in cave survey’d.
Ulysses brought into the grot his store,
Garments, and heavy brass, and golden plate;
335Which Pallas plac’d, and laid a rock o’ th’ door,

And then in counsel both together sate
The suitors to destroy. Pallas first spake.
Ulysses, said she, think on how you may
Your just revenge of the proud suitors take,
340That use your house and substance as their prey;

That marry would your wife by force. But she
Still keeps them off with hopes and promises,
Expecting your return continually,
But than of marriage thinks of nothing less.
345Oh! said Ulysses, but for your advice,

I died had as Agamemnon did.
But now, O Pallas, find out some device,
How of the suitors best I may be rid,
And by me stand, inspiring courage stout,
350As when we pull’d Troy’s head-gear off her head.

For then to master them I should not doubt,
Three hundred though they were. Then answered
The Goddess Pallas: By you I will stand;
You cannot fight, but I shall of it know,
355And bring unto you such a lucky hand,

That with their blood and brains the ground shall flow.
Come, first I’ll make you to men pass unknown:
I’ll shrink your skin, that ’s now so fair and fresh,
And from your head take off that hair so brown,
360And cover will with such array your flesh,

As men shall hate the sight of; then your eyes
I’ll shrivel up, that were so full and bright,
That in this habit th’ woo’rs may you despise,
Nor your wife know you standing in her sight.
365Then go you to the master of your swine,

That loves you, and your son, and your consort;
And to direct you to him take this sign:
He ’s at Crow-rock, thither the swine resort,
And t’ Arethusa’s well; for why, the oaken
Ulysses transformed into an old beggar-man.
370Berries, with that sweet water, make them fat.

Stay there till to him you your mind have spoken,
And well inform’d yourself of your estate.
To Lacedæmon I the while will go,
To call your son Telemachus away,
375Who thither went by sea, that he might know

What Menelaus there of you could say.
Then said Ulysses, Goddess, since you could
Have told him all yourself, why did you not?
Meant you that also he be wand’ring should,
380While other men stay feeding on his lot?

Trouble not you yourself with him, said she:
I sent him, and went with him with intent
To show him to the world abroad. And he
At Sparta treated is to his content.
385’Tis true, the suitors with a ship are gone

To wait for, and to kill him by the way;
But I believe, before that that be done,
Some will lie low that now your goods destroy.
And as she spake, she strok’d him with her wand,
390And rivel’d seem’d his skin (which was before

So sleek and fair) as if it had been tann’d;
And gray his hair, rivel’d his eyes all o’er.
And then she gave him an ill-favoured rag,
Torn, foul, and smutted filthily with soot,
395And over that the pill’d skin of a stag,

And satchel full of holes then added to ’t
With twisted-string. And up their counsel brake.
The Goddess Pallas then to Sparta past,
To bid Telemachus his leave to take
400Of Menelaus, and go home with haste.

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LIB. XIII. - Homer, The English Works, vol. X (Iliad and Odyssey) [1839]

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Part of: The English Works of Thomas Hobbes, 11 vols.

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LIB. XIII.