Greek Women Part 4

"This she said, because she was ashamed to speak of glad marriage to her father; but he saw all and answered, saying:

"'Neither the mules nor aught else do I grudge thee, my child. Go thy ways, and the thralls shall get thee ready a high wagon with good wheels, and fitted with an upper frame.'"

So, in obedience to the king's command, the mule team is made ready in the courtyard, and the maiden and her mother store in the wagon the raiment, a basket filled with all manner of food, and wine in a goatskin bottle, and olive oil in a golden cruse, that the princess and her maidens might anoint themselves after the bath. Then Nausicaa herself takes the whip and the reins, and she and her attendants start off for a joyous holiday. When they reach the stream of the river, the maidens unharness the mules and turn them loose to graze on the honey-sweet clover. Then they take out the garments, wash and cleanse them from all stains, and spread them out along the sh.o.r.e to dry. Work over, they bathe, anoint themselves with olive oil, and partake of their noonday meal on the river banks. Now for an afternoon of maidenly pastime. They indulge in the choral game of ball, laying aside their headdresses, and among them Nausicaa of the white arms, who outshone in beauty her maiden company, began the song.

But Athena is overruling this girlish frolic, for the rescue of her hero. The princess throws the ball at one of her companions, but it misses her and falls into the eddying river, whereat the maidens all raise a piercing scream, as only maidens can. Odysseus is awakened, and, sitting up, wonders into what sort of land he is come; surely it was the shrill cry of maidens, but whether of nymphs or of mortals he cannot tell. He will make essay, however; and, tearing a leafy bough from a tree to cover him, he sallies forth from the thicket like a mountain-bred lion. Loathsome and terrible, being disfigured by the brine of the sea, does he appear to the maidens, and they flee cowering here and there about the sh.o.r.e. Only Alcinous's daughter stands firm, for Athena gives her courage of heart and takes all trembling from her limbs. Odysseus does not venture to approach in the att.i.tude of a suppliant, but, standing aloof, beseeches her compa.s.sion with sweet and cunning words:

"I supplicate thee, O queen, whether thou art a G.o.ddess or a mortal! If indeed thou art a G.o.ddess of them that keep the wide heaven, then to Artemis, the daughter of great Zeus, I mainly liken thee, for beauty and stature and shapeliness. But if thou art one of the daughters of men who dwell on earth, thrice blessed are thy father and thy lady mother, and thrice blessed thy brethren. Surely their souls ever glow with gladness for thy sake each time they see thee entering the dance, so fair a flower of maidens! But he is of heart the most blessed beyond all other who shall prevail with gifts of wooing, and lead thee to his home. Never have mine eyes beheld such an one among mortals, neither man nor woman; great awe comes upon me as I look on thee.

"But, queen, have pity on me; for, after many trials and sore, to thee first of all am I come, and of the other folk who hold this city and land I know no man. Nay, show me the town, give me an old garment to cast about me, if thou hadst, when thou camest here, any wrap for the linen. And may the G.o.ds grant thee all thy heart's desire: a husband and a home, and a mind at one with his may they give--a good gift; for there is nothing mightier and n.o.bler than when man and wife are of one heart and mind in a house, a grief to their foes, and to their friends great joy, but their own hearts know it best."

Then Nausicaa of the white arms answered him, and said: "Stranger, forasmuch as thou seemest no evil man nor foolish--and it is Olympian Zeus himself that giveth weal to men, to the good and to the evil, to each one as he will, and this thy lot doubtless is of him, and so thou must in any wise endure it:--now, since thou hast come to our city and our land, thou shalt not lack raiment, nor aught else that is the due of a hapless suppliant, when he has met them who can befriend him. And I will show thee the town, and name the name of the people. The Phaeacians hold this city and land, and I am the daughter of Alcinous, great of heart, on whom all the might and force of the Phaeacians depend."

The princess then calls her maidens and bids them give the stranger meat and drink, and olive oil for his bath, and raiment to put on. And when he had bathed and anointed himself, and had put on the raiment, Athena "made him greater and more mighty to behold, and from his head caused deep, curling locks to flow, like the hyacinth flower," shedding grace about his head and shoulders.

"Then to the sh.o.r.e of the sea went Odysseus apart, and sat down, glowing in beauty and grace; and the princess marvelled at him, and spake among her fair-tressed maidens, saying:

"'Listen, my white-armed maidens, and I will say somewhat. Not without the will of all the G.o.ds who hold Olympus hath this man come among the G.o.dlike Phaeacians. Erewhile he seemed to me uncomely, but now he is like the G.o.ds that keep the wide heaven. Would that such an one might be called my husband, dwelling here, and that it might please him here to abide! But come, my maidens, give the stranger meat and drink.'"

Food is set before the famishing Odysseus, and, after his hunger is appeased, Nausicaa prepares for the homeward return. She addresses the hero, and gives him full directions how to reach her father's palace; part of the way he may accompany her, but not when they approach a populous part of the city; for she dreads the unfriendly comments of loungers and pa.s.sers-by.

[Ill.u.s.tration 80 _CIRCE After the painting by Henri P. Motte. The myth of Circe turning the companions of Ulysses into swines shows the religious belief, in ancient Greece, in magical transformation of human beings into animals._]

"And some one of the baser sort might meet me and say: 'Who is this that goes with Nausicaa, this tall and goodly stranger? Where found she him?

Her husband he will be, her very own. Either she has taken in some shipwrecked wanderer of strange men, for no men dwell near us; or some G.o.d has come in answer to her instant prayer; from heaven has he descended, and will have her to wife for evermore. Better so, if herself she has ranged abroad and found a lord from a strange land; for verily she holds in no regard the Phaeacians here in this country, the many men and n.o.ble who are her wooers.' So will they speak, and this would turn to my reproach. Yea, and I myself would think it blame of another maiden who did such things in despite of her friends, her father and mother being still alive, and was conversant with men before the day of open wedlock. But, stranger, heed well what I say, that as soon as may be thou mayst gain at my father's hands an escort and a safe return.

Thou shalt find a fair grove of Athena, a poplar grove near the road, and a spring wells forth therein, and a meadow lies all around. There is my father's demesne, and his fruitful close, within the sound of a man's shout from the city. Sit thee down there, and wait until such time as we may have come into the city and reached the house of my father. But when thou deemest that we are got to the palace, then go up to the city of the Phaeacians, and ask for the house of my father Alcinous, high of heart. It is easily known, and a young child could be thy guide, for nowise like it are builded the houses of the Phaeacians, so goodly is the palace of the hero Alcinous. But when thou art within the shadow of the halls and the court, pa.s.s quickly through the great chamber, till thou comest to my mother, who sits at the hearth in the light of the fire, weaving yarn of sea-purple stain, a wonder to behold. Her chair is leaned against a pillar, and her maidens sit behind her. And there my father's throne leans close to hers, wherein he sits and drinks his wine, like an immortal. Pa.s.s thou by him, and cast thy hands about my mother's knees, that thou mayst see quickly and with joy the day of thy returning, even if thou art from a very far country. If but her heart be kindly disposed toward thee, then is there hope that thou shalt see thy friends, and come to thy well-builded house and to thine own country."

The clever maiden had already learned where lies the real seat of authority.

Soon stranger and maiden part, and Nausicaa drives to the gateway of the palace, and her brothers loose the mules from the car and carry the raiment within; then the maiden pa.s.ses to her chamber, where her attendant Eurymedusa meets her and prepares her supper. And at this point Nausicaa slips out of the main thread of the story, for maidens were not allowed to take part in the public functions with which the king entertained his guest.

When Odysseus has met with a favorable reception from the royal pair, the queen recognizes the garments which he wears, and this leads to the story of his rescue, but as yet he withholds his name. Alcinous is inclined to censure his daughter for not bringing the rescued one to the house when she returned with her maidens, but Odysseus gallantly defends the blameless maiden. And Alcinous, moved by his princely bearing, expresses the wish that so goodly a man would wed his daughter, and be called his son, there abiding. But the king does not insist, and the invitation was probably merely a courteous form of expression customary in those early days.

Only one more glimpse do we have of the Princess Nausicaa. After a day of athletic contests and various entertainments, Odysseus has arrayed himself for the evening, and is going to join the chiefs at their wine.

"And Nausicaa, dowered with beauty by the G.o.ds, stood by the doorpost of the well-builded hall, and marvelled at Odysseus, beholding him before her eyes, and she uttered her voice and spake to him winged words:

"'Farewell, stranger, and even in thine own country bethink thee of me upon a time, for that to me first thou owest the ransom of life.'

"And Odysseus of many counsels answered her, saying: 'Nausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinous, yea, may Zeus, the thunderer, the lord of Hera, grant me to reach my home and see the day of my returning; so would I, even there, do thee worship as to a G.o.d, all my days for evermore, for thou, lady, hast given me my life.'"

Thus delicately did Odysseus make a patron saint of the pure-hearted maiden, who had so innocently shown her fondness for him.

Royally was Odysseus entertained by King Alcinous and his n.o.ble-hearted queen, Arete, daughter of his brother, who "was honored by him as no other woman in the world is honored, of all that nowadays keep house under the hand of their lords. Thus she hath, and hath ever had, all worship heartily from her dear children and from her lord Alcinous and from all the folk, who look on her as on a G.o.ddess, and greet her with reverent speech when she goes about the town. Yea, for she, too, hath no lack of understanding. To whomsoever she shows favor, even if they be men, she ends their feuds."

After the feast, Demodocus the minstrel sang the story of the Wooden Horse; and at the memory of all he had suffered, the heart of Odysseus melted and the tears wet his cheeks beneath his eyelids. His host marked his grief, and begged him to tell the story of his adventures. Odysseus complied by giving an account of his wanderings, from the fall of Troy up to his arrival among the Phaeacians. The hero had struggled time and again against men, against giants and monsters, against the forces of nature, and finally against an adversary yet more powerful--the love of G.o.ddesses.

Among his adventures was the story of his trip to the isle of aea, where dwelt Circe, an awful G.o.ddess, of mortal speech, own sister of the wizard aeetes, and aunt of the more terrible enchantress Medea. She dwelt in a house of polished stone, and all round her palace mountain-bred wolves and lions were roaming, whom she herself had bewitched with evil drugs. As half his band approached the house, they heard Circe singing in a sweet voice as she pa.s.sed to and fro before the great web, imperishable, such as is the handiwork of G.o.ddesses, fine of woof and full of grace and splendor; truly a fascinating G.o.ddess was she, though rather gruesome in her surroundings. When the comrades of Odysseus called to her, she graciously invited them in. "So she led them in and set them upon chairs and high seats, and made them a mess of cheese and barley meal and yellow honey with Pramnian wine, and mixed harmful drugs with the food to make them utterly forget their own country. Now, when she had given them the cup and they had drunk it off, presently she smote them with a wand, and in the sties of the swine she penned them.

So they had the head and voice, the bristles and the shape, of swine, but their mind abode even as of old. Thus were they penned there weeping, and Circe flung them acorns and mast and fruit of the cornel tree to eat, whereon wallowing swine do always batten."

Only one had been wise enough not to enter, and he rushed back to tell the tale to his lord. Odysseus started off alone to rescue his comrades; and Hermes met him on the way, in the likeness of a young man, and gave him _moly_, a magic herb, and full directions for its use, to ward off enchantment.

Fair Circe receives him most graciously and prepares also for him the magic potion, but for once her charm fails. He draws his sword to slay her, and then she becomes the suppliant. She has found her match, and at once, as if she were a mortal, falls in love with him. Her bonhomie is now her greatest charm. She swears a great oath not to harm him or his companions, and restores to the natural form those whom she had already bewitched. Royal entertainment and gracious hospitality and words of counsel are now the order of the day--attendant nymphs, delicious baths, and sumptuous banquets. So there they remained for a full year, feasting on abundant flesh and sweetest wine.

Lady Circe proved herself to be the counsellor and friend of Odysseus, and showed him how to carry out his fond desire of visiting the realm of Hades, to seek the spirit of Theban Tiresias, that he might unfold to the wanderer his future. Then, clad in a great, shining robe, light of woof and gracious, with a fair golden girdle about her waist, and a veil upon her head, she bade farewell to Odysseus and his crew, and sent a favoring wind as a kindly escort to the dark-prowed ship.

During his descent into Hades, Odysseus discourses with the Theban seer, who makes known to him his destiny, and also with the wraith of his mother, who tells him that faithful Penelope abides with steadfast spirit in his halls, and wearily for her the nights wane always and the days in the shedding of tears; and how she herself was reft of sweet life through her sore longing for him.

And, after her, there appears a great company of the famous women of heroic times, wives and daughters of mighty men, who had been beloved of G.o.ds and ill.u.s.trious mortals,--Tyro, ancestress of Nestor's house; and Antiope, mother of Amphion and Zethus, founders of seven-gated Thebes; and Alcmene, mother of Heracles; and Epicaste, mother of Oedipus, who was wedded to her own son; and lovely Chloris, wife of Neleus; and Leda, mother of Castor and Pollux; and Iphimedia, and Phaedra, and Procris, and Maera, and Clymene, and hateful Eriphyle, and innumerable other wives and daughters of heroes,--Homer's _Catalogue of Famous Women_, who had exerted mighty influence in heroic times.

Upon Odysseus's return to the island of aea, Circe greets them, and once more they enjoy meat and bread in plenty and dark red wine. And our hero Circe leads apart and makes him sit down, and lays herself at his feet and asks all his tale. She then warns him of the dangers he has yet to encounter, and tells him how to meet them. Then, with words of farewell, she sends the travellers on their voyage with a favoring breeze. First, Odysseus encounters the Sirens, whose enchanting strains he enjoys while he is bound tight to the mast, and the ears of his companions are deafened with wax; he evades the Clashing Rocks, escapes Scylla and Charybdis; and at last, on the Isle of the Sun, his comrades slaughter and devour the sacred cattle of Helios--in violation of the warnings of Tiresias and Circe. All are in consequence lost in a shipwreck, save Odysseus, who, after floating about for ten days on a raft, reaches the island of Ogygia, abode of the fair nymph Calypso, who holds him as her beloved for eight long years and would make him immortal.

Thus the tale ended--all are spellbound throughout the shadowy halls at the story, and Alcinous and his courtiers offer all manner of gifts to Odysseus. The next day, a ship is got ready for its voyage to far-off Ithaca; the gifts are stored on board, a farewell feast is held, and Odysseus bids farewell to his gracious hosts:

"My lord Alcinous, most notable of all the people, pour ye the drink offering, and send me safe upon my way; and as for you, fare ye well.

For now have I all that my heart desired, an escort and loving gifts.

May the G.o.ds of heaven give me good fortune with them, and may I find my n.o.ble wife in my home with my friends unharmed, while ye, for your part, abide here and make glad your gentle wives and children; and may the G.o.ds vouchsafe all manner of good, and may no evil come nigh the people!"

Then, after a grateful farewell to Queen Arete, the hero is conducted to the waiting ship, and there left reclining upon the soft rugs that have been spread for him, and soon a sound sleep, very sweet, falls upon his eyelids.

When Odysseus awakes, he is in his dear native land, though he does not recognize it until the G.o.ddess Athena appears and tells him how he is to regain wife and kingdom. For us, the rest of the story centres about Queen Penelope, who for so many, m'any years has been awaiting the return of her lord.

Odysseus, disguised by the G.o.ddess in the form of an aged beggar, goes to the hut of the swineherd Eumaeus, with whose aid the plot for the destruction of the wooers is to be carried out; and Athena summons Telemachus to return from Lacedaemon to meet his father and bear his part in the final scenes. When the young man returns to the palace, after his interview with his father, "the nurse Euryclea saw him far before the rest, as she was strewing skin coverlets upon the carven chairs; and straightway she drew near him, weeping, and all the other maidens of Odysseus, of the hardy heart, gathered about him, and kissed him lovingly on the head and shoulders. Now wise Penelope came forth from her chamber, like Artemis or golden Aphrodite, and cast her arms about her dear son, and fell a-weeping, and kissed his face and both his beautiful eyes, and wept aloud, and spake to him winged words:

"'Thou art come, Telemachus, sweet light of mine eyes; methought I should see thee never again, after thou hadst gone in thy ship to Pylus, secretly, and without my will, to seek tidings of thy dear father. Come now, tell me, what sign didst thou get of him?'"

Telemachus tells his mother of his journey, and his friend Theoclymenus, who has the gift of second-sight, prophesies the speedy return of Odysseus. Soon the hero himself appears as a beggar in his own halls, and is roughly treated by the haughty wooers. He soundly whips the braggart beggar Irus, and the story of his presence is noised throughout the house.

Constant Penelope is ever anxious to hear some word of her lord, and every wandering stranger with a tale to tell could win rich gifts from her by devising some story of Odysseus. She has heard of the beggar in her halls, and summons him to her presence and questions him, and tells him of her grief and her longing for more news of the absent one. When crafty Odysseus fashioned a story of his entertaining her lord in Crete, her tears flowed as she listened, and she wept for her own lord who was sitting by her. The disguised hero had compa.s.sion for his wife; but he craftily hid his tears, and described the appearance of Odysseus so fully that she could not deny the certain likeness.

Then the aged nurse Euryclea, who had tended him in his youth, is asked to wash the feet of the old man. As the crone makes ready the caldron, a sudden fear seizes Odysseus lest when she handles his foot she might know the scar of the wound that the boar had dealt him with its white tusk in his boyhood. When the old woman took the scarred limb, she knew it by the touch, and grief and joy seized her, and she called him Odysseus, her dear child. Then would she have revealed the glad news to Penelope, had Odysseus not seized her by the throat and made her swear to keep his presence secret until the slaying of the lordly wooers.

Next day occurs the famous trial of the bow of Odysseus, which none of the suitors can draw; then Odysseus gets the bow into his hands, strings it, sends the arrow through the axheads, and finally, leaping on the stone threshold, deals his shafts among the wooers. The wretched company are all slaughtered, the faithless women of the household are hanged, and ominous silence reigns over the palace of Odysseus.

Euryclea hastens to the upper chamber to bring to Queen Penelope the good news that Odysseus has surely come and has slain the haughty wooers. The fair lady can with difficulty believe the tidings, but she is finally persuaded to go down to see the wooers dead and him that slew them.

"With the word, she went down from the upper chamber, and much her heart debated whether she should stand apart and question her dear lord or draw nigh and clasp his head and hands. But when she had come within and had crossed the threshold of stone, she sat down over against Odysseus, in the light of the fire, by the further wall. Now, he was sitting by the tall pillar, looking down and waiting to know if perchance his n.o.ble wife would speak to him, when her eyes beheld him. But she sat long in silence, and amazement came upon her soul, and now she would look upon him steadfastly with her eyes, and now again she knew him not, for that he was clad in vile raiment. And Telemachus rebuked her, and spake and hailed her:

"'Mother mine, ill mother, of an ungentle heart, why turnest thou thus away from my father, and dost not sit by him and question him and ask him all? No other woman in the world would harden her heart to stand thus aloof from her lord, who, after much travail and sore, had come to her in the twentieth year to his own country. But thy heart is ever harder than stone.'

"Then wise Penelope answered him, saying: 'Child, my mind is amazed within me, and I have no strength to speak, or to ask him aught, nay, or to look on him face to face. But if in truth this be Odysseus, and he hath indeed come home, verily we shall be aware of each other the more surely; for we have tokens that we twain know of, even we, secret from all others.'

"So she spake, and the steadfast, goodly Odysseus smiled, and quickly he spake to Telemachus winged words: 'Telemachus, leave now thy mother to make trial of me within the chambers; so shall she soon come to a better knowledge than heretofore.'

"Meanwhile, the housedame Eurynome had bathed the great-hearted Odysseus within his house, and anointed him with olive oil, and cast about him a goodly mantle and a doublet. Moreover, Athena shed great beauty from his head downwards, and made him greater and more mighty to behold, and from his head caused deep, curling locks to flow, like the hyacinth flower.

And as when some skilful man overlays gold upon silver, one that Hephaestus and Pallas Athena have taught all manner of craft, and full of grace is his handiwork, even so did Athena shed grace about his head and shoulders; and forth from the bath he came, in form like to the immortals. Then he sat down again on the high seat, whence he had arisen, over against his wife, and spake to her, saying:

"'Strange lady, surely to thee, above all womankind, the Olympians have given a heart that cannot be softened. No other woman in the world would harden her heart to stand thus aloof from her husband, who, after much travail and sore, had come to her, in the twentieth year, to his own country.--Nay, come, nurse strew a bed for me to lie all alone, for a.s.suredly her spirit within her is as iron.'