CALYPSO—ULYSSES REACHES SCHERIA ON A RAFT.





And now, as Dawn rose from her couch beside Tithonus—harbinger of light

alike to mortals and immortals—the gods met in council and with them,

Jove the lord of thunder, who is their king. Thereon Minerva began to

tell them of the many sufferings of Ulysses, for she pitied him away

there in the house of the nymph Calypso.



“Father Jove,” said she, “and all you other gods that live in

everlasting bliss, I hope there may never be such a thing as a kind and

well-disposed ruler any more, nor one who will govern equitably. I hope

they will be all henceforth cruel and unjust, for there is not one of

his subjects but has forgotten Ulysses, who ruled them as though he

were their father. There he is, lying in great pain in an island where

dwells the nymph Calypso, who will not let him go; and he cannot get

back to his own country, for he can find neither ships nor sailors to

take him over the sea. Furthermore, wicked people are now trying to

murder his only son Telemachus, who is coming home from Pylos and

Lacedaemon, where he has been to see if he can get news of his father.”



“What, my dear, are you talking about?” replied her father, “did you

not send him there yourself, because you thought it would help Ulysses

to get home and punish the suitors? Besides, you are perfectly able to

protect Telemachus, and to see him safely home again, while the suitors

have to come hurry-skurrying back without having killed him.”



When he had thus spoken, he said to his son Mercury, “Mercury, you are

our messenger, go therefore and tell Calypso we have decreed that poor

Ulysses is to return home. He is to be convoyed neither by gods nor

men, but after a perilous voyage of twenty days upon a raft he is to

reach fertile Scheria,50 the land of the Phaeacians, who are near of

kin to the gods, and will honour him as though he were one of

ourselves. They will send him in a ship to his own country, and will

give him more bronze and gold and raiment than he would have brought

back from Troy, if he had had all his prize money and had got home

without disaster. This is how we have settled that he shall return to

his country and his friends.”



Thus he spoke, and Mercury, guide and guardian, slayer of Argus, did as

he was told. Forthwith he bound on his glittering golden sandals with

which he could fly like the wind over land and sea. He took the wand

with which he seals men’s eyes in sleep or wakes them just as he

pleases, and flew holding it in his hand over Pieria; then he swooped

down through the firmament till he reached the level of the sea, whose

waves he skimmed like a cormorant that flies fishing every hole and

corner of the ocean, and drenching its thick plumage in the spray. He

flew and flew over many a weary wave, but when at last he got to the

island which was his journey’s end, he left the sea and went on by land

till he came to the cave where the nymph Calypso lived.



He found her at home. There was a large fire burning on the hearth, and

one could smell from far the fragrant reek of burning cedar and sandal

wood. As for herself, she was busy at her loom, shooting her golden

shuttle through the warp and singing beautifully. Round her cave there

was a thick wood of alder, poplar, and sweet smelling cypress trees,

wherein all kinds of great birds had built their nests—owls, hawks, and

chattering sea-crows that occupy their business in the waters. A vine

loaded with grapes was trained and grew luxuriantly about the mouth of

the cave; there were also four running rills of water in channels cut

pretty close together, and turned hither and thither so as to irrigate

the beds of violets and luscious herbage over which they flowed. 51

Even a god could not help being charmed with such a lovely spot, so

Mercury stood still and looked at it; but when he had admired it

sufficiently he went inside the cave.



Calypso knew him at once—for the gods all know each other, no matter

how far they live from one another—but Ulysses was not within; he was

on the sea-shore as usual, looking out upon the barren ocean with tears

in his eyes, groaning and breaking his heart for sorrow. Calypso gave

Mercury a seat and said: “Why have you come to see me,

Mercury—honoured, and ever welcome—for you do not visit me often? Say

what you want; I will do it for you at once if I can, and if it can be

done at all; but come inside, and let me set refreshment before you.”



As she spoke she drew a table loaded with ambrosia beside him and mixed

him some red nectar, so Mercury ate and drank till he had had enough,

and then said:



“We are speaking god and goddess to one another, and you ask me why I

have come here, and I will tell you truly as you would have me do. Jove

sent me; it was no doing of mine; who could possibly want to come all

this way over the sea where there are no cities full of people to offer

me sacrifices or choice hecatombs? Nevertheless I had to come, for none

of us other gods can cross Jove, nor transgress his orders. He says

that you have here the most ill-starred of all those who fought nine

years before the city of King Priam and sailed home in the tenth year

after having sacked it. On their way home they sinned against

Minerva,52 who raised both wind and waves against them, so that all his

brave companions perished, and he alone was carried hither by wind and

tide. Jove says that you are to let this man go at once, for it is

decreed that he shall not perish here, far from his own people, but

shall return to his house and country and see his friends again.”



Calypso trembled with rage when she heard this, “You gods,” she

exclaimed, “ought to be ashamed of yourselves. You are always jealous

and hate seeing a goddess take a fancy to a mortal man, and live with

him in open matrimony. So when rosy-fingered Dawn made love to Orion,

you precious gods were all of you furious till Diana went and killed

him in Ortygia. So again when Ceres fell in love with Iasion, and

yielded to him in a thrice-ploughed fallow field, Jove came to hear of

it before so very long and killed Iasion with his thunderbolts. And now

you are angry with me too because I have a man here. I found the poor

creature sitting all alone astride of a keel, for Jove had struck his

ship with lightning and sunk it in mid ocean, so that all his crew were

drowned, while he himself was driven by wind and waves on to my island.

I got fond of him and cherished him, and had set my heart on making him

immortal, so that he should never grow old all his days; still I cannot

cross Jove, nor bring his counsels to nothing; therefore, if he insists

upon it, let the man go beyond the seas again; but I cannot send him

anywhere myself for I have neither ships nor men who can take him.

Nevertheless I will readily give him such advice, in all good faith, as

will be likely to bring him safely to his own country.”



“Then send him away,” said Mercury, “or Jove will be angry with you and

punish you”.



On this he took his leave, and Calypso went out to look for Ulysses,

for she had heard Jove’s message. She found him sitting upon the beach

with his eyes ever filled with tears, and dying of sheer home sickness;

for he had got tired of Calypso, and though he was forced to sleep with

her in the cave by night, it was she, not he, that would have it so. As

for the day time, he spent it on the rocks and on the sea shore,

weeping, crying aloud for his despair, and always looking out upon the

sea. Calypso then went close up to him said:



“My poor fellow, you shall not stay here grieving and fretting your

life out any longer. I am going to send you away of my own free will;

so go, cut some beams of wood, and make yourself a large raft with an

upper deck that it may carry you safely over the sea. I will put bread,

wine, and water on board to save you from starving. I will also give

you clothes, and will send you a fair wind to take you home, if the

gods in heaven so will it—for they know more about these things, and

can settle them better than I can.”



Ulysses shuddered as he heard her. “Now goddess,” he answered, “there

is something behind all this; you cannot be really meaning to help me

home when you bid me do such a dreadful thing as put to sea on a raft.

Not even a well found ship with a fair wind could venture on such a

distant voyage: nothing that you can say or do shall make me go on

board a raft unless you first solemnly swear that you mean me no

mischief.”



Calypso smiled at this and caressed him with her hand: “You know a

great deal,” said she, “but you are quite wrong here. May heaven above

and earth below be my witnesses, with the waters of the river Styx—and

this is the most solemn oath which a blessed god can take—that I mean

you no sort of harm, and am only advising you to do exactly what I

should do myself in your place. I am dealing with you quite

straightforwardly; my heart is not made of iron, and I am very sorry

for you.”



When she had thus spoken she led the way rapidly before him, and

Ulysses followed in her steps; so the pair, goddess and man, went on

and on till they came to Calypso’s cave, where Ulysses took the seat

that Mercury had just left. Calypso set meat and drink before him of

the food that mortals eat; but her maids brought ambrosia and nectar

for herself, and they laid their hands on the good things that were

before them. When they had satisfied themselves with meat and drink,

Calypso spoke, saying:



“Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, so you would start home to your own

land at once? Good luck go with you, but if you could only know how

much suffering is in store for you before you get back to your own

country, you would stay where you are, keep house along with me, and

let me make you immortal, no matter how anxious you may be to see this

wife of yours, of whom you are thinking all the time day after day; yet

I flatter myself that I am no whit less tall or well-looking than she

is, for it is not to be expected that a mortal woman should compare in

beauty with an immortal.”



“Goddess,” replied Ulysses, “do not be angry with me about this. I am

quite aware that my wife Penelope is nothing like so tall or so

beautiful as yourself. She is only a woman, whereas you are an

immortal. Nevertheless, I want to get home, and can think of nothing

else. If some god wrecks me when I am on the sea, I will bear it and

make the best of it. I have had infinite trouble both by land and sea

already, so let this go with the rest.”



Presently the sun set and it became dark, whereon the pair retired into

the inner part of the cave and went to bed.



When the child of morning rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, Ulysses put on

his shirt and cloak, while the goddess wore a dress of a light gossamer

fabric, very fine and graceful, with a beautiful golden girdle about

her waist and a veil to cover her head. She at once set herself to

think how she could speed Ulysses on his way. So she gave him a great

bronze axe that suited his hands; it was sharpened on both sides, and

had a beautiful olive-wood handle fitted firmly on to it. She also gave

him a sharp adze, and then led the way to the far end of the island

where the largest trees grew—alder, poplar and pine, that reached the

sky—very dry and well seasoned, so as to sail light for him in the

water.53 Then, when she had shown him where the best trees grew,

Calypso went home, leaving him to cut them, which he soon finished

doing. He cut down twenty trees in all and adzed them smooth, squaring

them by rule in good workmanlike fashion. Meanwhile Calypso came back

with some augers, so he bored holes with them and fitted the timbers

together with bolts and rivets. He made the raft as broad as a skilled

shipwright makes the beam of a large vessel, and he fixed a deck on top

of the ribs, and ran a gunwale all round it. He also made a mast with a

yard arm, and a rudder to steer with. He fenced the raft all round with

wicker hurdles as a protection against the waves, and then he threw on

a quantity of wood. By and by Calypso brought him some linen to make

the sails, and he made these too, excellently, making them fast with

braces and sheets. Last of all, with the help of levers, he drew the

raft down into the water.



In four days he had completed the whole work, and on the fifth Calypso

sent him from the island after washing him and giving him some clean

clothes. She gave him a goat skin full of black wine, and another

larger one of water; she also gave him a wallet full of provisions, and

found him in much good meat. Moreover, she made the wind fair and warm

for him, and gladly did Ulysses spread his sail before it, while he sat

and guided the raft skilfully by means of the rudder. He never closed

his eyes, but kept them fixed on the Pleiads, on late-setting Bootes,

and on the Bear—which men also call the wain, and which turns round and

round where it is, facing Orion, and alone never dipping into the

stream of Oceanus—for Calypso had told him to keep this to his left.

Days seven and ten did he sail over the sea, and on the eighteenth the

dim outlines of the mountains on the nearest part of the Phaeacian

coast appeared, rising like a shield on the horizon.



But King Neptune, who was returning from the Ethiopians, caught sight

of Ulysses a long way off, from the mountains of the Solymi. He could

see him sailing upon the sea, and it made him very angry, so he wagged

his head and muttered to himself, saying, “Good heavens, so the gods

have been changing their minds about Ulysses while I was away in

Ethiopia, and now he is close to the land of the Phaeacians, where it

is decreed that he shall escape from the calamities that have befallen

him. Still, he shall have plenty of hardship yet before he has done

with it.”



Thereon he gathered his clouds together, grasped his trident, stirred

it round in the sea, and roused the rage of every wind that blows till

earth, sea, and sky were hidden in cloud, and night sprang forth out of

the heavens. Winds from East, South, North, and West fell upon him all

at the same time, and a tremendous sea got up, so that Ulysses’ heart

began to fail him. “Alas,” he said to himself in his dismay, “what ever

will become of me? I am afraid Calypso was right when she said I should

have trouble by sea before I got back home. It is all coming true. How

black is Jove making heaven with his clouds, and what a sea the winds

are raising from every quarter at once. I am now safe to perish. Blest

and thrice blest were those Danaans who fell before Troy in the cause

of the sons of Atreus. Would that I had been killed on the day when the

Trojans were pressing me so sorely about the dead body of Achilles, for

then I should have had due burial and the Achaeans would have honoured

my name; but now it seems that I shall come to a most pitiable end.”



As he spoke a sea broke over him with such terrific fury that the raft

reeled again, and he was carried overboard a long way off. He let go

the helm, and the force of the hurricane was so great that it broke the

mast half way up, and both sail and yard went over into the sea. For a

long time Ulysses was under water, and it was all he could do to rise

to the surface again, for the clothes Calypso had given him weighed him

down; but at last he got his head above water and spat out the bitter

brine that was running down his face in streams. In spite of all this,

however, he did not lose sight of his raft, but swam as fast as he

could towards it, got hold of it, and climbed on board again so as to

escape drowning. The sea took the raft and tossed it about as Autumn

winds whirl thistledown round and round upon a road. It was as though

the South, North, East, and West winds were all playing battledore and

shuttlecock with it at once.



When he was in this plight, Ino daughter of Cadmus, also called

Leucothea, saw him. She had formerly been a mere mortal, but had been

since raised to the rank of a marine goddess. Seeing in what great

distress Ulysses now was, she had compassion upon him, and, rising like

a sea-gull from the waves, took her seat upon the raft.



“My poor good man,” said she, “why is Neptune so furiously angry with

you? He is giving you a great deal of trouble, but for all his bluster

he will not kill you. You seem to be a sensible person, do then as I

bid you; strip, leave your raft to drive before the wind, and swim to

the Phaeacian coast where better luck awaits you. And here, take my

veil and put it round your chest; it is enchanted, and you can come to

no harm so long as you wear it. As soon as you touch land take it off,

throw it back as far as you can into the sea, and then go away again.”

With these words she took off her veil and gave it him. Then she dived

down again like a sea-gull and vanished beneath the dark blue waters.



But Ulysses did not know what to think. “Alas,” he said to himself in

his dismay, “this is only some one or other of the gods who is luring

me to ruin by advising me to quit my raft. At any rate I will not do so

at present, for the land where she said I should be quit of all

troubles seemed to be still a good way off. I know what I will do—I am

sure it will be best—no matter what happens I will stick to the raft as

long as her timbers hold together, but when the sea breaks her up I

will swim for it; I do not see how I can do any better than this.”



While he was thus in two minds, Neptune sent a terrible great wave that

seemed to rear itself above his head till it broke right over the raft,

which then went to pieces as though it were a heap of dry chaff tossed

about by a whirlwind. Ulysses got astride of one plank and rode upon it

as if he were on horseback; he then took off the clothes Calypso had

given him, bound Ino’s veil under his arms, and plunged into the

sea—meaning to swim on shore. King Neptune watched him as he did so,

and wagged his head, muttering to himself and saying, “There now, swim

up and down as you best can till you fall in with well-to-do people. I

do not think you will be able to say that I have let you off too

lightly.” On this he lashed his horses and drove to Aegae where his

palace is.



But Minerva resolved to help Ulysses, so she bound the ways of all the

winds except one, and made them lie quite still; but she roused a good

stiff breeze from the North that should lay the waters till Ulysses

reached the land of the Phaeacians where he would be safe.



Thereon he floated about for two nights and two days in the water, with

a heavy swell on the sea and death staring him in the face; but when

the third day broke, the wind fell and there was a dead calm without so

much as a breath of air stirring. As he rose on the swell he looked

eagerly ahead, and could see land quite near. Then, as children rejoice

when their dear father begins to get better after having for a long

time borne sore affliction sent him by some angry spirit, but the gods

deliver him from evil, so was Ulysses thankful when he again saw land

and trees, and swam on with all his strength that he might once more

set foot upon dry ground. When, however, he got within earshot, he

began to hear the surf thundering up against the rocks, for the swell

still broke against them with a terrific roar. Everything was enveloped

in spray; there were no harbours where a ship might ride, nor shelter

of any kind, but only headlands, low-lying rocks, and mountain tops.



Ulysses’ heart now began to fail him, and he said despairingly to

himself, “Alas, Jove has let me see land after swimming so far that I

had given up all hope, but I can find no landing place, for the coast

is rocky and surf-beaten, the rocks are smooth and rise sheer from the

sea, with deep water close under them so that I cannot climb out for

want of foot hold. I am afraid some great wave will lift me off my legs

and dash me against the rocks as I leave the water—which would give me

a sorry landing. If, on the other hand, I swim further in search of

some shelving beach or harbour, a hurricane may carry me out to sea

again sorely against my will, or heaven may send some great monster of

the deep to attack me; for Amphitrite breeds many such, and I know that

Neptune is very angry with me.”



While he was thus in two minds a wave caught him and took him with such

force against the rocks that he would have been smashed and torn to

pieces if Minerva had not shown him what to do. He caught hold of the

rock with both hands and clung to it groaning with pain till the wave

retired, so he was saved that time; but presently the wave came on

again and carried him back with it far into the sea—tearing his hands

as the suckers of a polypus are torn when some one plucks it from its

bed, and the stones come up along with it—even so did the rocks tear

the skin from his strong hands, and then the wave drew him deep down

under the water.



Here poor Ulysses would have certainly perished even in spite of his

own destiny, if Minerva had not helped him to keep his wits about him.

He swam seaward again, beyond reach of the surf that was beating

against the land, and at the same time he kept looking towards the

shore to see if he could find some haven, or a spit that should take

the waves aslant. By and by, as he swam on, he came to the mouth of a

river, and here he thought would be the best place, for there were no

rocks, and it afforded shelter from the wind. He felt that there was a

current, so he prayed inwardly and said:



“Hear me, O King, whoever you may be, and save me from the anger of the

sea-god Neptune, for I approach you prayerfully. Any one who has lost

his way has at all times a claim even upon the gods, wherefore in my

distress I draw near to your stream, and cling to the knees of your

riverhood. Have mercy upon me, O king, for I declare myself your

suppliant.”



Then the god staid his stream and stilled the waves, making all calm

before him, and bringing him safely into the mouth of the river. Here

at last Ulysses’ knees and strong hands failed him, for the sea had

completely broken him. His body was all swollen, and his mouth and

nostrils ran down like a river with sea-water, so that he could neither

breathe nor speak, and lay swooning from sheer exhaustion; presently,

when he had got his breath and came to himself again, he took off the

scarf that Ino had given him and threw it back into the salt54 stream

of the river, whereon Ino received it into her hands from the wave that

bore it towards her. Then he left the river, laid himself down among

the rushes, and kissed the bounteous earth.



“Alas,” he cried to himself in his dismay, “what ever will become of

me, and how is it all to end? If I stay here upon the river bed through

the long watches of the night, I am so exhausted that the bitter cold

and damp may make an end of me—for towards sunrise there will be a keen

wind blowing from off the river. If, on the other hand, I climb the

hill side, find shelter in the woods, and sleep in some thicket, I may

escape the cold and have a good night’s rest, but some savage beast may

take advantage of me and devour me.”



In the end he deemed it best to take to the woods, and he found one

upon some high ground not far from the water. There he crept beneath

two shoots of olive that grew from a single stock—the one an ungrafted

sucker, while the other had been grafted. No wind, however squally,

could break through the cover they afforded, nor could the sun’s rays

pierce them, nor the rain get through them, so closely did they grow

into one another. Ulysses crept under these and began to make himself a

bed to lie on, for there was a great litter of dead leaves lying

about—enough to make a covering for two or three men even in hard

winter weather. He was glad enough to see this, so he laid himself down

and heaped the leaves all round him. Then, as one who lives alone in

the country, far from any neighbor, hides a brand as fire-seed in the

ashes to save himself from having to get a light elsewhere, even so did

Ulysses cover himself up with leaves; and Minerva shed a sweet sleep

upon his eyes, closed his eyelids, and made him lose all memories of

his sorrows.