Forsaking, to the shore I bent my way.
But ere the station of our bark I reach’d,
The sav’ry steam greeted me. At the scent
I wept aloud, and to the Gods exclaim’d.
With cruel sleep and fatal ye have lull’d
My cares to rest, such horrible offence
Meantime my rash companions have devised.
At once with tidings of his slaughter’d beeves,
And he, incensed, the Immortals thus address’d.
Avenge me instant on the crew profane
Of Laertiades; Ulysses’ friends
Have dared to slay my beeves, which I with joy
Beheld, both when I climb’d the starry heav’ns,
And when to earth I sloped my ‘‘westring wheels,’’
But if they yield me not amercement due
And honourable for my loss, to Hell
I will descend and give the ghosts my beams.
Sun! shine thou still on the Immortal Pow’rs,
And on the teeming earth, frail man’s abode.
My candent bolts can in a moment reach
And split their flying bark in the mid-sea.
By herald Hermes, as she oft affirm’d.
At length my bark, with aspect stern and tone
I reprimanded them, yet no redress
Could frame, or remedy—the beeves were dead.
Soon follow’d signs portentous sent from heav’n.
The skins all crept, and on the spits the flesh
Both roast and raw bellow’d, as with the voice
Of living beeves. Thus my devoted friends
Driving the fattest oxen of the Sun,
Feasted six days entire; but when the sev’nth
By mandate of Saturnian Jove appeared,
The storm then ceased to rage, and we, again
Embarking, launch’d our galley, rear’d the mast,
And gave our unfurl’d canvas to the wind.
Appearing none, but sky alone and sea,
Right o’er the hollow bark Saturnian Jove
Hung a cærulean cloud, dark’ning the Deep.
Not long my vessel ran, for, blowing wild,
Now came shrill Zephyrus; a stormy gust
Snapp’d sheer the shrouds on both sides; backward fell
The mast, and with loose tackle strew’d the hold;
Striking the pilot in the stern, it crush’d
His scull together; he a diver’s plunge
Made downward, and his noble spirit fled.
Meantime, Jove thund’ring, hurl’d into the ship
His bolts; she, smitten by the fires of Jove,
Quaked all her length; with sulphur fill’d she reek’d,
And o’er her sides headlong my people plunged
Like sea-mews, interdicted by that stroke
Of wrath divine to hope their country more.
But I, the vessel still paced to and fro,
Till, fever’d by the boist’rous waves, her sides
Forsook the keel now left to float alone.
Snapp’d where it join’d the keel the mast had fall’n,
But fell encircled with a leathern brace,
Which it retain’d; binding with this the mast
And keel together, on them both I sat,
Borne helpless onward by the dreadful gale.
And now the West subsided, and the South
Arose instead, with mis’ry charged for me,
That I might measure back my course again
To dire Charybdis. All night long I drove,
And when the sun arose, at Scylla’s rock
Once more, and at Charybdis’ gulph arrived.
It was the time when she absorb’d profound
The briny flood, but by a wave upborne
I seized the branches fast of the wild-fig.
To which, bat-like, I clung; yet where to fix
My foot secure found not, or where to ascend,
For distant lay the roots, and distant shot
The largest arms erect into the air,
O’ershadowing all Charybdis; therefore hard
I clench’d the boughs, till she disgorg’d again
Both keel and mast. Not undesired by me
They came, though late; for at what hour the judge,
After decision made of num’rous strifes
Between young candidates for honour, leaves
The forum for refreshment’ sake at home,
Then was it that the mast and keel emerged.
Deliver’d to a voluntary fall,
Fast by those beams I dash’d into the flood,
And seated on them both, with oary palms
Impell’d them; nor the Sire of Gods and men
Permitted Scylla to discern me more,
Else had I perish’d by her fangs at last.
Nine days I floated thence, and, on the tenth
Dark night, the Gods convey’d me to the isle
Ogygia, habitation of divine
Calypso, by whose hospitable aid
And assiduity, my strength revived.
But wherefore this? ye have already learn’d
That hist’ry, thou and thy illustrious spouse;
I told it yesterday, and hate a tale
Once amply told, then, needless, traced again
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