{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_41935/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_41935","id":"gutenberg_41935","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41935","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Novels","Homer. Odyssey -- Adaptations","Mythology, Greek","Odysseus, King of Ithaca (Mythological character)"],"text":"THE\n        ADVENTURES OF ULYSSES\n            _THE WANDERER_\n\n\n        An Old Story Retold by\n            C. RANGER-GULL\n\n              AUTHOR OF\n   \"THE HYPOCRITE,\" \"FROM THE BOOK\n  BEAUTIFUL,\" \"BACK TO LILAC LAND,\"\n                 ETC.\n\n\n             Illustrated\n                  BY\n              W. G. MEIN\n\n\n                London\n      GREENING AND COMPANY, LTD.\n  20 CECIL COURT, CHARING CROSS ROAD\n                 1902\n\n\n\n\n    BY THE SAME AUTHOR\n\n    THE HYPOCRITE.\n      Seventh Edition. 2s. 6d.\n\n    BACK TO LILAC LAND.\n      Second Edition. 6s.\n\n    MISS MALEVOLENT.\n      Second Edition. 3s. 6d.\n\n    THE CIGARETTE SMOKER.\n      Second Edition. 2s. 6d.\n\n    FROM THE BOOK BEAUTIFUL.\n      Being Old Lights Re-lit. 3s. 6d.\n\n\n    IN PREPARATION.\n\n    THE SERF. A Tale of the Times of\n      King Stephen.\n\n    HIS GRACE'S GRACE. A Story\n      of Oxford Life.\n\n\n\n\n    [Illustration: HE STARED STEADILY AT THEM WITH HIS SINGLE EYE\n      FOR A FULL MINUTE.\n        _Page 32._\n        _Frontispiece._]\n\n\n\n\n    TO\n\n    HERBERT BEERBOHM TREE\n\n    IN APPRECIATION OF HIS SCHOLARSHIP\n    IN ADMIRATION OF HIS ART\n    TO ONE OF THE FEW GREAT ARTISTS\n    WHO HAS NEVER BEEN UNTRUE\n    TO THE HIGHEST IDEALS OF HIS CALLING\n    AND IN SPECIAL MEMORY\n    OF THE FIRST NIGHT OF \"HAMLET\"\n    AT MANCHESTER\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                        PAGE\n    Foreword                                               9\n\n    Brief Account of Principal Characters\n      in the Odyssey                                      13\n\n    The First Episode--How They blinded the\n      Son of Poseidon                                     21\n\n    The Second Episode--The Adventure of\n      the Palace in the Wood                              39\n\n    The Third Episode--How Ulysses walked\n      in Hell, and of the Adventure of\n      the Sirens and Scylla                               48\n\n    The Fourth Episode--How Ulysses lost\n      his Merry Men and came a Waif to\n      Calypso with the Shining Hair                       63\n\n    The Last Episode--How the King came\n      Home again after the Long Years                     80\n\n    A Note on Homer and Ulysses                           98\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n    HE STARED STEADILY AT THEM WITH HIS\n      SINGLE EYE FOR A FULL MINUTE            _Frontispiece_\n\n    THEN HE CAME SWIFTLY UPON THE\n      GLEAMING PALACE                       _facing page_ 45\n\n    THEN HE WAS, IN AN INSTANT MOMENT,\n      AWARE OF A MORE THAN MORTAL PRESENCE        \"       49\n\n    THEY CAME TO THE BRINK OF THE RIVER           \"       52\n\n    \"WHO AM I THAT I CAN COMBAT THE\n      WILL OF ZEUS OR THE HARDNESS OF\n      YOUR HEART?\"                                \"       78\n\n    \"NAY, IF YOU LOVE ME,\" HE SAID, \"NONE\n      OF THAT, MY FRIEND\"                         \"       83\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD\n\n\nSeven fair and illustrious cities of the dim, ancient world, Argos,\nAthen\u00e6, Chios, Colophon, Salamis, Rhodos, Smyrna, fought a war of\nwords over HOMER'S birthplace.\n\nEach claimed the honour.\n\nAnd if, indeed, such an accident of chance confers an honour upon a\ntown, then the birthplace of the Greatest Poet of all time should be a\nplace of pilgrimage.\n\nFor, among the weavers of Epos, Drama, and Romance, he who was called\nMelesegenes is first of all and wears an imperishable crown.\n\nFor 3000 years his fame has streamed down the ages.\n\nThe world has changed. Great empires have risen, flowered and passed.\nChristianity came, flooding mankind with light, at a time when, though\nHomer was a dim tradition, his work was a living force in the world.\nWhen Christ was born, Homerus was dead 900 years.\n\nA man with such immensity of glory ceases to be a man. He becomes a\nForce.\n\nOf the two imperishable monuments Homer has left us, the decision of\ncritical scholarship has placed the _Iliad_ first. It has been said\nthat the _Iliad_ is like the midday, the _Odyssey_ like the setting\nsun. Both are of equal splendour, though the latter has lost its\nnoonday heat.\n\nBut I would take that adroit simile and draw another meaning from it.\n\nWhen deferred, expected night at last approaches, when the sun paints\nthe weary west with fa\u00ebry pictures of glowing seas, of golden islands\nhanging in the sky, of lonely magic waterways unsailed by mortal\nkeels; then, indeed, there comes into the heart and brain another\nwarmth,--the mysterious quickening of Romance.\n\nFor I think that the ringing sound of arms, the vibrant thriddings of\nbows, the clash of heroes, are far less wonderful than the long,\nlonely wanderings of Ulysses.\n\nThrough all the _Odyssey_ the winds are blowing, the seas moaning, and\nthe estranged sad spectres of the night flit noiselessly across the\nprinted page.\n\nThrough new lands, among new peoples--friends and foes--touching at\ngreen islands set like emeralds in wine-coloured seas, the immortal\nmariner moves to the music of his creator's verse. The Sirens' voices,\nthe Fairy's enchanted wine, the Twin Monsters of the Strait pass and\nare forgotten.\n\nHis wife's tears bid him ever towards home.\n\nI sometimes have wondered if Vergil thought of Ulysses when he made\nhis own lesser wanderer say:--\n\n    \"Per varios casus per tot discrimina rerum,\n    Tendimus in Latium, sedes ubi fata quietas\n    Ostendunt.\"\n\nAnd now, since we are to have, on that so magical a stage, a concrete\npicture: since we are to take away another storied memory from beneath\nthe copper dome, I feel that the story of Ulysses may once more be\ntold in English.\n\nA fine poet, a great player, are to give us an Ulysses who must\nperforce be not only full of the spirit of his own age of myth, but\ninstinct with the spirit of this.\n\nThat is as inevitable as it is interesting.\n\nThe \"Gentle Elia\" (how one wishes one could find a better name for\nhim--but custom makes cowards of us all) has written his own version\nof the _Odyssey_. I cannot emulate that. But I think I can at least be\nuseful.\n\nThere are three stages of knowing Homer: the time when one dog's ears\nand dogrells him at school, the time when one loves him, a literary\nlove! at Oxford, and the time when the _va et vient_ of life in great\ncapitals wakes the dormant Ulysses in the heart of every artist, and\nhe begins to understand.\n\n    \"The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep\n    Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,\n    'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.\n    Push off, and sitting well in order smite\n    The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds\n    To sail beyond the sunset----\"\n\n                                           _C. RANGER-GULL._\n\n\n\n\nA BRIEF ACCOUNT\n\nOF THE\n\nPRINCIPAL CHARACTERS IN THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES, ACCORDING TO THE\nANCIENT WRITERS AND LEGENDS.\n\n\nULYSSES. The hero of Homer's great poem was known to the Greeks under\nthe name of Odysseus. He was king of the pastoral islands of Ithaca\nand Dulichium. Most of the petty Greek chieftains became suitors for\nthe hand of the beautiful Helen, and Ulysses was among the number, but\nwithdrew when he realised the smallness of his chances. He then\nmarried Penelope, the daughter of Icarius, and at the same time joined\nwith the other unsuccessful lovers of Helen in a sworn league for her\nfuture protection should she ever stand in need of it. He then\nreturned to Ithaca with his bride. The rape of Helen soon compelled\nhim to leave Penelope and join the other Grecian princes in the great\nwar against Troy. He endeavoured to avoid the summons by pretending\nmadness. Yoking a horse and a bull together, he began to plough the\nsands of the sea shore. The messenger who was sent to him took\nTelemachus, the infant son of Ulysses, and placed the child in the\ndirect course of the plough, in this way circumventing his design.\nUlysses was one of the most prominent figures during the Trojan war,\nhis valour, and still more his cunning, making him of supreme\nimportance in the councils of the princes. After the Trojan war\nUlysses set sail for home, and at this period of his career the story\nof the _Odyssey_ begins. He was driven by malevolent winds on to the\nshores of Africa, where he and his mariners were captured by the\none-eyed giant, Polyphemus, who ate five of the band. Ulysses escaped\nby thrusting a stake into the giant's eye and then leaving the cave in\nwhich he was confined by crawling under the bellies of the sheep when\nthe Cyclops led them to pasture. He next arrives at \u00c6olia, and \u00c6olus\ngave him, imprisoned in bags, all the evil winds which were likely to\nobstruct his safe return homewards. The sailors, curious to know what\nthe bags contained, opened them, and the imprisoned winds, rushing out\nwith fearful violence, destroyed the whole fleet save only the vessel\nwhich bore Ulysses. The ship was thrown on the shores of the Goddess\nCirce's enchanted island, and the companions of Ulysses were changed\ninto swine by the enchantress. Ulysses escaped the like fate by means\nof a magic herb he had received from Mercury, and forced the goddess\nto bring his friends to their original shape. He then yielded to her\nsolicitations and made her the mother of Telegonus. The next stage of\nhis adventures brings him to Hades, where he goes to consult the shade\nof the wise Tiresias as to the means of reaching home in safety. He\npasses the terrible coasts of the Sirens unhurt, and escaped the\nmonsters Scylla and Charybdis by a series of narrow chances. In Sicily\nhis sailors, urged by extreme hunger, killed some of Apollo's cattle,\nand the Sun-God in revenge destroyed all his companions and also his\nship. Ulysses alone escaped on a raft and swam to the shores of an\nisland belonging to Calypso, with whom he lived a lotos life as\nhusband for seven years. The gods eventually interfered, and Ulysses,\nonce more properly equipped, set out on his travels again. However,\nNeptune (Poseidon), the lord of the sea, still remembered the injury\ndone to his son, the giant Polyphemus, and wrecked this ship also.\nUlysses was cast up on the island of the Phoeacians, where he was\nhospitably received by King Alcinous and his daughter the Princess\nNausicaa, and at last sent home in safety to his own kingdom after an\nabsence of more than twenty years. The Goddess Athene befriended him,\nand informed him that his palace was crowded with debauched and\ninsolent suitors for the hand of Queen Penelope, but that his wife was\nstill faithful and unceasingly mourned his loss. Adopting the advice\nof the goddess, he disguised himself in rags to see for himself the\nstate of his home. He then slew the suitors and lived quietly at home\nfor the remaining sixteen years of his adventurous life. Tradition\nsays that he at last met his death at the hands of his illegitimate\nson Telegonus.\n\n\nPENELOPE. A famous Gr\u00e6cian princess, wife of Ulysses. She married at\nabout the same time that Helen wedded King Menelaus, and returned home\nto Ithaca with her husband against the wishes of her father Icarius of\nSparta. During the long absence of Ulysses she was besieged by suitors\nfor her hand, who established themselves in the palace. She became\npractically their prisoner, and was compelled to dissimulate and put\nthem off by various excuses. She managed to keep her importunate\nguests in some sort of good humour by giving out that she would make a\nchoice among them as soon as she had completed a piece of tapestry on\nwhich she was engaged. Each night she undid the stitches she had\nworked in the daytime. On the return of Ulysses she was, of course,\nfreed from the suitors by her husband. According to some ancient\nwriters, after the death of Ulysses she married Telegonus, Ulysses'\nson by the Goddess Circe. Her name Penelope sprung from some\nriver-birds who were called \"Penelopes.\"\n\n\nTELEMACHUS. The son of Ulysses and Penelope. When his father left for\nthe Trojan war Telemachus was but an infant, but at the close of the\ncampaign he went to seek him and to obtain what information he could\nabout his father's absence. When Ulysses returned home in disguise\nAthene brought son and parent together, and the two concerted means to\nrid the palace of the suitors. After the death of Ulysses, Telemachus\nis said to have gone to the island of Circe and married the\nenchantress, formerly his father's mistress. A son called Latinus\nsprung from this union.\n\n\nATHENE (Minerva). The Goddess of Wisdom was born from Zeus' brain\nwithout a mother. She sprang from his head in full armour. She was the\nmost powerful of the goddesses and the friend of mankind. She was the\npatroness of Ulysses, and it was believed she first invented ships.\nHer chastity was inviolable. Her worship was universal.\n\n\nZEUS (Jupiter). Chief of all the gods. His attitude towards Ulysses\nwas friendly owing to the persuasion of his daughter Athene.\n\n\nPOSEIDON (Neptune) was the Sea God and next in power to Zeus. He was\nthe father of the giant Polyphemus whom Ulysses blinded, and is the\nconsistent enemy of Ulysses throughout the whole _Odyssey_. Neptune\nwas the brother of Zeus.\n\n\nHERMES (Mercury) was the messenger of the gods and a son of Zeus. He\nwas especially the patron of travellers and well disposed to Ulysses.\n\n\nTIRESIAS was in life a celebrated soothsayer and philosopher of\nThebes. His wisdom was universal. Having inadvertently seen the\nGoddess Athene bathing in the fountain of Hippocrene, he was blinded.\nUlysses visited his spirit in Hades, in order to obtain his advice as\nto the journey homewards to Ithaca.\n\n\nCIRCE. An enchantress celebrated for her knowledge of the magic\nproperties of herbs. She was of extreme personal beauty. In girlhood\nshe married the prince of Colchis, whom she murdered to obtain his\nkingdom. She was thereon banished to the fairy island of \u00c6\u00e6a. When\nUlysses visited her shores she changed his companions into swine, but\nUlysses was protected by the magic virtues of a herb called _moly_.\nUlysses spent a year in the arms of Circe, and she gave birth to a son\ncalled Telegonus.\n\n\nCALYPSO. One of the daughters of Atlas, was known as the\n\"bright-haired Goddess of Silence,\" and was queen of the lost island\nof Ogygia. Ulysses spent seven years with her, and she bore him two\nsons. By order of Zeus, Hermes was sent to the island ordering Ulysses\nto leave his voluptuous sloth, and Calypso, who was inconsolable at\nhis loss, was forced to allow him to depart. The legend runs that the\ngoddess offered him the gift of immortality if he would remain with\nher.\n\n\nSCYLLA and CHARYBDIS. Scylla was a terrible female monster who\ndevoured six of Ulysses' crew, though the hero himself escaped her.\nBelow the waist she was composed of creatures like dogs who never\nceased barking. She was supported by twelve feet and had six different\nheads. The monster dwelt in a cave under the sea on one side of a\nnarrow strait off the coast of Sicily. On the other side of the strait\nwas the great whirlpool CHARYBDIS. It was invested with a personality\nby Homer, and Charybdis was said to be a giantess who sucked down\nships as they passed.\n\n\nTHE SIRENS. Monsters with sweet alluring voices who inhabited a small\nisland near Sicily. They had bodies like great birds, according to\nsome writers, with the heads of beautiful women. Whosoever heard their\nmagic song must go to them and remain with them for ever. Ulysses\nescaped the enchantment by causing himself to be bound to the ship's\nmast.\n\n\nPOLYPHEMUS. The son of Poseidon. He was the giant king of the\nCyclopes who were workers in the forge of Vulcan and made armour for\nthe gods. Ulysses and his companions blinded him in order to escape\nfrom the cavern where he had imprisoned them.\n\n\nANTINOUS. A native gentleman of Ithaca, one of Penelope's most\npersistent suitors. When Ulysses came home disguised as a beggar\nAntinous struck him. He was the first to fall by Ulysses' bow.\n\n\nEURYCLEA. The nurse of Ulysses in his infancy, and one of the first to\nrecognise him on his return from his wanderings. She was in her youth\nthe lovely daughter of Ops of Ithaca.\n\n\nEUM\u00c6US. The herdsman and steward of Ulysses who knew his master on his\nreturn after an absence of twenty years. He was the king's right-hand\nman in the plot against, and fight with, the suitors of Penelope.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ADVENTURES OF ULYSSES\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST EPISODE\n\nHOW THEY BLINDED THE SON OF POSEIDON\n\n\nA warm mild wind, laden with sweet scents, blew over the sailors from\nthe island, which now lay far astern.\n\nIn the weary west the charmed sunset still lingered over Lotus Land.\n\nA rosy flush lay on the snow-capped mountains which were yet spectral\nin the last lights of the day, but looking out over the bows the sky\nwas dark purple changing into black, and where it met the sea there\nwas a white gleam of foam.\n\nThe companions of Ulysses sat idle from the oars, for the wind filled\nthe belly of the sail and there was no need for rowing. A curious\nsilence brooded over them all. No one spoke to his fellow. The faces\nof all were sad, and in the eyes of some the fire of an unutterable\nregret burnt steadily.\n\nThe heads of all were turned towards the island, which was fast\ndisappearing from their view. Some of the men shaded their eyes with\ntheir hands in one last long look of farewell.\n\nAs the curtain of the dark fell upon the sea, the warm offshore wind\ndied away. A colder breeze, full of the sea-smell itself, came down\nover the port bow; it moaned through the cordage, and little waves\nbegan to hiss under the cutwater.\n\nEvery now and again the wind freshened rapidly. The mournful whistling\nbecame a sudden snarling of trumpets. The ship and crew seemed to have\npassed over the limits of a tableau. Not only was it a quick elemental\nchange of scene, but the change had its influence with the spectators.\n\nThe sad fire--if the glow of regret is indeed a fire--died out of\nheavy eyes half veiled by weary lids. The sea-light dawned once more\nupon the faces of the mariners, the bright warm blood moved swiftly in\ntheir veins.\n\nOne man ran to the steering oar to give an aid to the helmsman as the\nship went about on the starboard tack, three more stood by the sheet,\na hum of talk rose from the waist of the boat. Ulysses stood in the\nbows looking forward into the night. His tall, lean figure was bent\nforward, and his arm was thrown round the gilded boss of the prow. His\neyes were deep set in his head, and his brow was furrowed with the\ninnumerable wrinkles which come to the man who lives a life of\nhardship and striving.\n\nYet the long years of battle and wandering, a life of shocks! had only\nintensified the alertness of his pose. He seemed, as he looked out\ninto the night, a personification of \"readiness.\" A crisp dark beard\ngrew round his throat, and the veins on his bare brown arms were like\nblue enamel round a column of bronze.\n\nWhen the ship went about again he came down into the body of the ship\nand helped to pull upon the brace. Though he was no taller than many\nof his men, and leaner than most, in physical strength as well as in\nintellect he was first and chief. The mighty muscles leapt up on his\narms as he strained on the taut rope.\n\nThe ship slanted away down the wind into the night. The men gathered\nround their captain. \"Comrades,\" he said to them in a singularly sweet\nand musical voice, \"once more we adventure the deep, and no man knows\nwhat shall befall us. To our island home in the west, to dear Ithaca!\nif the gods so will it. Our wives weep for us on our deserted\nhearthstone. Our little ones are noble youths ere now, and may Zeus\nbring us safe home at last. Yet much it misdoubts me that there are\nother perils in store for us ere we hear the long breakers beat upon\nthe shores of Ithaca and see the morning sun run down the wooded sides\nof Neriton. Be that as the Fates will it, let us keep always courage,\ngaiety, and the quiet mind.\"\n\n\"We are well away from there,\" said one of the men, nodding vaguely\ntowards the stern.\n\n\"That are we,\" said another; \"that cursed fruit is honeysweet in my\nmouth still. It stole away our brains and made us as women, we! the\nmen who fought in Troyland.\"\n\n\"Of what profit is it to look to the past, Phocion?\" said Ulysses. \"We\ndid eat and sleep and forget, but it is over. The sea wind is salt\nonce more upon our faces. Let us eat the night meal, and then I will\nchoose a watch and the rest may sleep. Hand me the cup--To to-morrow's\ndawn!\"\n\nThen one of the sailors took dried goat's flesh and fruit from a\nlocker in the stern, and by the light of a torch of sawn sandal wood\nthey fell to eating. Great bunches of purple grapes lay before each\nsailor, but they had brought none of the magic lotus fruit with them\nto steal away their vigour and thicken their blood.\n\nThen they lay down to sleep under coverings of skins. Two men went to\nthe great steering oar, three men watched amidship by the braces, and\nUlysses himself wrapped a woollen cloak round him and went once more\ninto the bows.\n\nAlone there with the wind his thoughts once more went back to his far\ndistant home. He thought with longing of his old father Laertes, of\nthe child Telemachus playing in the marble courtyard of the sunny\npalace on the hill. A deep sigh shuddered out from his lips as his\nthoughts fell upon the lonely Queen Penelope. \"Wife of mine,\" he\nthought, \"shall I ever lie beside you more? Is there silver in your\nbright hair now? Are your thoughts to mewards as mine to you?\nPerchance another rules in my palace and sits at my seat. Are your\nlips another's now? The great tears are blinding me. Courage!\"\n\nBending his head upon his breast, Ulysses prayed long and earnestly to\nhis awful patroness, the Goddess Athene, that she would still keep\nward over his fortunes and guide him safely home.\n\nThe night wore on and became very silent. The ship seemed to be\nmoving swiftly and surely, though the wind had dropped and the voice\nof the waves was hushed. It seemed to the watcher in the bows that the\nship was moving in the path of some strong current.\n\nA curious white mist suddenly rolled over the still surface of the\nsea, thick and ghostly. The mast and sail, which was now drooping and\nlifeless, swayed through it like giant spectres. Ulysses could see\nnone of his companions, but when he hailed the watch the voice of\nPhocion came back to him through the ghostly curtain, curiously thick\nand muffled.\n\n\"The mist thickens, my captain,\" said the sailor. \"Can you see aught\nahead?\"\n\n\"I can see nothing, Phocion,\" shouted Ulysses; \"the mist is like wool.\nBut I think it is a land mist come out to meet us. There should be\nland ahead.\"\n\n\"I hear no surf or the rolling of waves,\" said Phocion. \"May Zeus\nguide the boat, for mortal men are of no avail to-night.\"\n\nThe ship moved on swiftly as if guided by invisible hands towards some\ngoal, and still the expectant mariners heard no sound.\n\nQuite suddenly, and without the slightest warning, a vivid\ncopper-coloured flash of lightning illuminated the ship. For an\ninstant in the hard lurid light Ulysses saw the whole of the vessel in\na distinct picture.\n\nEvery detail was manifest--the mast, the cordage, the sleeping\nsailors below, the watching group by the shrouds, and, right away\nastern, the startled helmsmen motionless as statues of bronze.\n\nThen with a long grinding noise the ship seemed suddenly lifted up in\nthe water, jerked forward, and then dropped again. She began to heel\nover a little out of the perpendicular, and then remained still,\nstranded upon an unknown and mysterious shore, where the waves were\nall asleep. Still the white mist circled round them.\n\n\"Comrades,\" said Ulysses, \"we are brought here by no chance of wind\nand waves. Some god has done this thing, but whether for weal or woe I\ncannot tell. Let us land upon the beach and lie down with our weapons\nwithin sound of the sea till dawn. At sunrise we shall know where the\ngod has brought us.\"\n\nThey landed at the order, and with the supreme indifference of the\nadventurer lay upon the shore and slept out the remainder of the\nnight. But Ulysses had a prescience of harm, and was full of sinister\nforebodings. He did not sleep, but paced through the mist all night in\na little beaten track among the boulders. He prayed long and earnestly\nto Athene.\n\nWhen the first faint hintings of dawn brightened through the mist a\nlittle breeze arose, and before the sky was more than faintly flushed\nwith day the night fog was blown away like thistledown.\n\nAs the sun climbed up the sky the companions found that they had been\ncarried to a scene of singular beauty. They were on an island, a\nsmall, rich place at the mouth of a great bay. Rich level grass\nmeadows, green as bright enamel and brilliant with flowers, sloped\ngently down to the violet sea. Behind was a thickly-wooded hill, at\nthe foot of which was a sparkling spring surrounded by a tall grove of\npoplar trees.\n\nIn the leafy wood the wild goats leapt under the wild vine trees like\nPan at play, as fearless of the intruders as if they had never seen\nmen before. All the bright morning the sailors made the wood ring with\nhappy laughter as they speared the goats for a feast. All trouble\npassed from their minds, and as the spears flashed swiftly through the\ngreen wood the shrill, jocund voices of the hunters made all the\nisland musical. Ulysses plunged into a translucent pool at the foot of\nthe spring, and the cool water flashed like diamonds over his strong\nbrown arms, and he looked indeed as if he were some river-god and this\nhis fairy home.\n\nAll day long they feasted and drank wine which they had brought in\nskins from Lotus Land. When night was falling, very still and gentle,\nthey saw the blue smoke of fires over the bay, on the mainland, about\na mile away, and the bleating of many sheep and the lowing of herds\ncame to them over the wine-coloured sea.\n\nEver and again voices could be heard--strange resonant voices. \"That\nmust be the country of some strange gods,\" the sailors said to each\nother. \"Those are no mortal voices. We are come into some great\nperil.\" Before they slept they sacrificed a goat on the seashore to\nZeus, that he might guard them from any coming harm.\n\nIn the morning the king prepared for action. It was necessary to find\nupon what shores they had arrived, to get direction of Ithaca, and if\ntreasure was to be won by force or guile, to take the opportunity\nwhich chance or the gods had sent.\n\nUlysses chose twelve of his men, tried veterans with nerves of steel,\nold comrades who had fought with him for Helen on the windy plains of\nTroy. With these old never-strikes he embarked on the ship. He left\nPhocion as leader of the remainder of the crew, and taking Elpenor\nwith him as second in command, they got out six sweeps, three on each\nside of the ship, and rowed slowly over the glassy bay.\n\nThe mainland, on the shore where they landed, was a wild rocky place,\nand there was a broad road winding away up to the higher pasture\nlands. The road was made of great rocks beaten into smoothness, and\nfresh spoor of cattle showed that not long since a great herd had\npassed to the upland feeding grounds.\n\nDirectly in front of them as they landed was a high cave. It was\nfringed with laurel bushes, which grew on ledges in the cliff side.\n\nBefore the cave a great wall had been built in a square, forming a\ncourtyard. The wall was built with enormous masses of rock, and fenced\nwith a palisade of pine trunks and massive boles of oak. There was no\nsign of any living thing. Slowly and cautiously the party crept up to\nthe wall. Their weapons were in readiness as they stole through the\ngateway. Within the square formed by the wall they could see that it\nwas a vast cattle pen. \"This must be the dwelling of some giant,\" said\nElpenor; \"men do not build like this. On what strange place have we\nchanced?\" He looked inquiringly at Ulysses when he had spoken, and a\nring of eager faces turned towards him whose wisdom was never at\nfault, the favourite of Athene.\n\n\"I think, comrades,\" said Ulysses, \"that we have been driven to the\nshores of the Cyclopes. They are mighty giants, who work in the forge\nof Vulcan making armour for the gods. Now this cave must be the\ndwelling of one of them, and I like not where we are. Let us but go\nwithin for a short time and take what we can find, and then hasten\nback to the island. The Cyclopes have no boats and cannot follow us.\nBut it would go hard with us were we found, for they are crafty and\ncruel monsters.\"\n\nWith hasty, curious footsteps they crossed the echoing flags of the\ncourtyard and entered the cave. As the shadow of the entrance fell\nupon them and the chill of the air inside struck on their faces, more\nthan one would have gladly stayed in the warm outside sunshine. It was\nan ill-omened, sinister place this lair of giants.\n\nA pungent ammoniacal smell made them cough and shudder as they crossed\nthe threshold. Ulysses turned with a grim smile to his followers.\n\"Thank the gods we are seamen and sons of the fresh wind. This Cyclops\nlives like a swine in a stye.\" The large entrance to the cave gave a\nfair light within, and their eyes soon became accustomed to it. Along\none side of the cave were folds of fat lambs and kids who bleated\nlustily at them. At the end of the cave was a great couch of skins by\nthe ashes of a pine fire. Bones and scraps of flesh were piled round,\nrelics of some great orgy, and a sickly stench of decay came from the\n_d\u00e9bris_.\n\nPiles of wicker baskets were loaded with huge yellow cheeses, and\nthere were many copper milk pails and bowls brimful of whey.\n\nThe sailors rejoiced at such an abundance of good cheer, and they\nkilled one of the fattest of the lambs and lit a fire to roast it.\n\n\"The giant will not return till even,\" said Elpenor, \"and by then we\nshall be far away. We will make a good meal now, and then load the\nship with cheeses and drive off the best of the lambs. Our comrades\nwill welcome us home this night, for we shall be full-handed!\"\n\nSo, careless of danger, they sat them down in that perilous place and\nmade merry on the giant's cheer. They had brought skins of wine with\nthem, and they drank in mockery to their absent host.\n\nIn the middle of the feast one of the men suddenly laid down his cup.\n\"Hearken,\" he said uneasily, \"do you hear anything, friends?\"\n\n\"I hear nothing,\" said Ulysses. \"What sound did you hear?\"\n\n\"A distant sound, I thought,\" answered the man, \"as if the earth\nshook.\"\n\n\"There is nothing,\" said a third at length; but a certain constraint\nfell upon them all, and anxiety clouded their faces.\n\n\"Let us begone,\" said Ulysses at length. \"There is what I do not like\nin the air. I fear evil.\"\n\nHe had but hardly made an end of speaking when all of them there were\nstruck rigid with apprehension. A distant but rapidly-nearing sound\nassailed their ears, a heavy crunching sound like the blows of a great\nhammer upon the earth, save that each succeeding blow was louder than\nthe last. They stood irresolute for one fatal moment, and then started\nto run towards the mouth of the cave.\n\nThe noise filled all the air, which hummed and trembled with it. They\nreached the entrance, but too late. Even as the first man came out\ninto the afternoon sunlight, a great herd of cattle came pouring into\nthe courtyard. Behind them, towering over the wall, as tall as the\ntallest pine on the slopes of Hymettus, strode Polyphemus, the giant\nking of the Cyclopes, son of the God Poseidon.\n\nThe giant was naked to the waist, where he wore a girdle of skins. One\ngreat eye burned in the centre of his forehead, and a row of sharp,\nwhite teeth were framed by thick dribbling lips, like the lips of a\ncow.\n\nUnder his arm Polyphemus carried a bundle of young sapling trees,\nwhich he had brought for faggots for his fire. He threw them on the\nfloor of the courtyard by the mouth of the cave with a great crash.\nThe adventurers crouched away at the back of the cave in the darkness\nas the giant entered.\n\nHe drove all the ewes of his flock before him, leaving the rams\noutside in the court. Then he took a great hole of rock, which scarce\ntwenty teams of horses could have moved, and closed the mouth of the\ncave.\n\nWith a great sigh of weariness, which echoed like a hissing wind and\nblew the silent bats which hung to the roof this way and that in a\nfrightened eddy of wings, he sank down upon his couch of skins. The\ngiant had brought some of the firewood into the cave with him and he\nthrew it into the embers.\n\nA resinous piece of wood suddenly caught the flame and flared up,\nfilling the cavern with red light. One of the sailors dropped his\nspear with a loud clatter as the flames made plain the figure of the\nmonster.\n\nPolyphemus turned his head and saw them.\n\nHe stared steadily at them with his single eye for full a minute. A\ncruel smile played on his face.\n\n\"Who are you, strangers?\" he said at length, in a thick, low voice\nlike the swell of a great organ. \"Merchants, are you? Pirates? And\nwhence come you along the paths of the sea?\"\n\nThen Ulysses spoke in a smooth voice of conciliation. \"We are Greeks,\noh lord, soldiers of Agamemnon's army, bound for home over the seas\nfrom Troy. Bad weather has driven us out of our course, and so we have\ncome to you and beg you to be our honoured host. Oh, great lord, have\nreverence for the gods, for Zeus himself is the god of hospitality.\"\n\nThen the giant smiled cunningly. \"You are a man of little wit,\nstranger,\" he said, \"or else you have indeed come from the very end of\nthe world. I pay no heed to Zeus, for I am stronger than he. But now,\ntell me, where is your ship?\"\n\nBut Ulysses, the wary one, saw the snare and answered humbly, \"The\ngreat Poseidon, god of the deep, wrecked our ship upon the rocks, and\nwe alone survive of all our company.\"\n\nThe giant looked fixedly at the trembling band for a moment. Then,\nwith a sudden movement, he snatched among the mariners and grasped two\nof them in his mighty hand.\n\nThe swift horror remained with them in all their after life. He\nstripped the clothes from each like a man strips the scales from a\nprawn with one quick twirl of his fingers.\n\nThen he dashed the quivering bodies upon the ground so that the yellow\npaste of the brains smeared the stone--save for the horrid crunching\nof bone and flesh, and the liquid gurgle of the monster's throat as he\nmade his frightful meal, there was no sound in the cave.\n\nThen he fell into a foul sleep.\n\nThree times during the long night did Ulysses draw his sword to\nplunge it into the monster's heart, three times did he sheathe it\nagain. For in his wisdom he knew that if he killed Polyphemus no one\ncould ever move away the great stone which shut them from the outside\nworld.\n\nIn the morning Elpenor and one other died, and the giant drove his\nflocks to pasture and closed up the heroes in the cave.\n\nThen Ulysses comforted the dying hearts of his men, and as Polyphemus\nstrode away over the hills whistling to his cattle, he made a plan for\none last bid for freedom.\n\nLeaning against the wall of the cave was a great club of hard wood\nwhich the monster had put there to dry. It was an olive-tree trunk as\nbig as the great spar of a ship.\n\nThis they took and sharpened with their swords, and hardened it in the\nflame of the fire and hid it carefully away. Then very sadly the\nsailors cast lots as to who should be the four to help the captain.\nAll day long they sat in the foetid cave and prayed to the gods for an\nalms of aid. And their hearts were leaden for love of their valiant\ncomrades.\n\nAt eventime two more heroes died.\n\nThen Ulysses rose, and though his knees were weak and his face\nblanched with agony, he spoke in a smooth voice. \"My Lord Cyclops,\" he\nsaid, \"I have filled this bowl with wine which we brought with us. I\npray you drink, and perchance your heart may be touched and you will\nlet us go.\"\n\nSo the giant took the bowl from the king, and as Ulysses went near\nhim his breath reeked of carrion and blood. He drank the wine, which\nwas a sweet and drowsy vintage from the Lotus Island. \"Give me more,\"\nhe cried thickly, \"and say how you are named, for I will grant you a\nfavour.\"\n\nUlysses filled the bowl for him three times. \"Oh, my lord,\" he said,\n\"my friends and parents call me Noman, for that is my name. Now, great\nlord, your boon.\"\n\nThe giant leered at the hero with drunken cunning. \"Noman, since that\nis your name Noman, you shall die last of all, and the others first.\nThat is your boon!\"\n\nAnd once more he sank into his sleep, gorged with blood and wine.\n\nThe hours wore on and the flames of the fire sank into a bright red\nglow. The loud stertorous breathing of the monster became more deep\nand regular. Very silently the five rose from among the rest and stole\ntowards the fire with the great stake. They pressed it into the heart\nof the white hot embers and sat watching it change from black to\ncrimson, while little sparks ran up and down the sides like flies upon\nthe wall.\n\nWhen the spar was just about to burst into flame they drew it out, and\nwith quick, nervous footsteps carried it to where Polyphemus lay\nsleeping. The glow from the hot hard wood played upon that vast\nblood-smeared countenance and the yellow wrinkled lid which veiled the\ncruel eye.\n\nUlysses directed the point to the exact centre of the foul skin, and\nthen with their old battle cry of \"Helen!\" the five heroes pressed it\nhome through the hissing, steaming eyeball, turning it round and round\nuntil everything was burned away.\n\nThey had just time to leap aside when the giant rose in horrid agony.\nHis cries of rage and pain were like the cries of a thousand tortured\nbeasts, and the din was so great that pieces of rock began to fall\nfrom the roof of the cave. He spun round in his torture, beating upon\nthe walls with his arms and head until they were a raw and bleeding\nwound.\n\nAt this awful sound mighty footsteps were heard outside the cave as\nthe other giants rushed down from the hills. There came great and\nterrible voices shouting together, and it was as though a great storm\nwas racing through the world.\n\n\"What ails you, brother, that you call us from sleep in the night?\"\ncried the giants.\n\n\"Help! help! brothers. Noman is murdering me. I die!\"\n\nA chorus of thunderous laughter came rolling back. \"If Noman harms\nthee, then how should we aid thee, brother? 'Tis the gods who have\nsent thee a sickness which thou must endure.\"\n\nAnd now, through an aperture high up in the cave, the light began to\nwhiten, and showed day was at hand. The footsteps of the Cyclopes grew\nfaint and ceased, but Polyphemus lay moaning by the great stone which\nclosed the entrance.\n\nThe morning light grew stronger, and a breeze stole in, fresh and\nclean, and played upon the faces of the prisoners.\n\nThe ewes began to bleat, for their milking time was at hand, and the\nrams cried out for freedom and the green pastures of the hill.\n\nThe giant moved aside the stone to let them go and in the morning\nsunlight the sailors could see that he felt over them with his hands\nso that no men should mingle with them and so escape.\n\nFirst the ewes went out and then the young rams, and last of all the\ngreat old rams, patriarchs of the flock, began to move slowly towards\nthe door.\n\nThen courage came back to Ulysses, and with it all his cunning.\nStooping low under the belly of a great beast, he motioned to his\nfriends to do likewise, and, slowly, in this way, holding to the\nfleece of the rams, they moved out of the cave. They could feel the\nrams tremble when the giant's hands ranged over the wool of their\nbacks, but nevertheless they came safely out into the light, and stole\ndown to where their ship yet lay at anchor.\n\nThe air of the morning was like wine to them, and the face of the\nwater as dear as the face of a well-beloved wife as they ran over the\nbright yellow sand.\n\nThen from the stern of the boat Ulysses cried out in a great voice of\ntriumph. At that sound the monster came stumbling from his cave,\nreeling like a drunken man, and calling on his father Poseidon, Lord\nof the Sea, to avenge him on his enemies. He took up the stone that\nhad barred the cave and threw it far out into the water, but it\novershot the boat and did not harm the heroes, though the wave of its\ndescent flung the ship from side to side as if it were a piece of\ndriftwood. The mariners bent to the oars, and the vessels moved away\nfrom that accursed shore, slowly at first but more swiftly as their\ntired arms grew strong with the chance of safety, and the wine of hope\nflowed in their veins once more.\n\nThey saw the sightless face of Polyphemus working horribly, his mouth\nopening and shutting like a dying fish as he looked heavenwards and\nimplored his mighty father's aid.\n\nAnd after a space of mourning for the brave dead the heroes set out\nagain over the sad grey seas, seeking Ithaca.\n\nBut the heart of King Ulysses was sick and weary, for he dreaded the\nwrath to come, and most of all he longed for home.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SECOND EPISODE\n\nTHE ADVENTURE OF THE PALACE IN THE WOOD\n\n\nUlysses slowly mounted the wooded hill. The path which rose towards\nthe summit wound in and out through thick undergrowth, and his feet\nmade no sound upon the green moss of the track.\n\nHe had his spear ready for any game that he might chance on, but for\nhalf a day he saw no living thing save a few mailed lizards that lay\nopen-eyed upon a stone.\n\nNo birds twittered in the forest on the mountainside, only the wild\nbees sang in the stillness like jewels with voices.\n\nHow beautiful the wood was! and how mysterious also. Ulysses felt a\nquickening of the pulses which did not come from fear, and a strange\nexcitement possessed him which arose from he knew not what cause.\n\nThe trees in the forest were very old and grew thickly together. The\ntrunks were painted delicate greens, greys and browns by lichens, and\nthe foliage overhead met and made a roof of bright leaves. Beneath\nthis canopy there was a sort of twilight like the gloom in the temple\nof Zeus at Sparta.\n\nUlysses toiled on and up. After a time the trees began to open out\nand grow less thickly. The moss-carpet began to be rocky and uneasy to\nwalk upon, so that Ulysses knew that he must be nearing the top.\n\nAt last he climbed a few worn boulders and stood alone upon the peak.\nFrom that great height he could discern the sea on all sides of the\nisland. Beyond the thick woodlands below, the yellow sands of the\nshore went out to meet the water, and the king could see the ship\nriding at anchor and a small boat plying from it to a tiny group of\nblack dots upon the beach.\n\nUlysses sent his gaze circling slowly over the unbroken green of the\nwoods. When his roving glance fell upon the very centre of the island\nhe started suddenly and shaded his eyes from the sunlight with both\nhands. A thick column of blue smoke was rising from among the trees,\nand looking more intently than before he could see the gleam of white\nmarble here and there through the greenwood, and catch the sunlight\nglinting upon copper.\n\nHe had learned what he came to know; there was life upon the island.\nBut of what kind? Did some fearful monster lurk yonder, three miles\naway in the forest. Another Cyclops, perchance, or some angry god\nwroth at a disturbance of his privacy.\n\nThe still smoke rose into the soft air and a great calm seemed to\nbrood over the place. No birds flew about the roofs.\n\nHe began to retrace his steps down towards his comrades on the shore\nto tell them what he had seen.\n\nThe wood was as still as before, but when he came to the meadow lands\nbelow he dropped quickly behind a clump of fern, for his keen eyes had\nseen a smooth brown flank not far away. A great stag was drinking at a\nlittle stream which sang its way down from the mountain to the sea.\nThey had touched at the island with very little food left, and the\nking had promised that he would return with spoils from hunting.\n\nJust as the beast raised his head from the water the spear flashed\nlike a gleam of light from the clump of fern, and the quarry stumbled,\nclattering among the stones with a sob.\n\nThen Ulysses made a rope of willow twigs and tied the stag's feet\ntogether and brought him to the ship.\n\nOnly half the crew were upon the shore, for the rest had gone to\nexplore the inward parts of the island with Eurylochus as their\nleader.\n\nThey skinned the stag and made a fire, and roasted the sweet flesh\nupon their spear points. While they sat eating, a man with a white\nface came running over the shore towards them, and as they saw him\ncome they rose with their arms in fear, for they knew that once more\nthey had come to some dangerous and evil place, and that a deadly\nperil lurked in the forest.\n\nThey saw he who ran was Eurylochus, and that he ran in terror.\n\nBut none followed him in pursuit, nor did any arrow come singing like\na bee from the shelter of the neighbouring trees.\n\nEurylochus rushed up to them and sank exhausted by the fire. Ulysses\ngave him wine, and motioned the others to ask no questions but to let\nthe man tell his tale in his own way. For he knew it would be more\nvivid so.\n\n\"More evil, comrades!\" he sobbed out at last, \"and good men and true\nlost to us for ever. Know you where we have landed? This accursed\nplace is \u00c6\u00e6a, the home of the Goddess Circe, and I have seen her face\nto face.\"\n\nUlysses started violently, and despair crept into his eyes as he\nmotioned Eurylochus to proceed.\n\n\"We went up through the valleys,\" said the lieutenant, \"and entered\nthe wood. After we had walked long, and were thirsty and weary, we\ncame to an open glade in which stood the house of Circe. It was built\nof polished marble with copper roofs, and the trees made a thick wall\non all sides of the glade. A very strange, silent place! All round the\nhouse were lions and mountain wolves playing with each other. We\nturned to fly in fear, but the beasts fawned upon us with gentle paws\nand waving tails, and we saw their eyes were sad and tame, and they\nwere all unlike the beasts of the field. They were as dogs at supper\nbegging for food from their masters. But it was an awful sight\nnevertheless.\n\n\"Now, as we stood waiting in the porch, we heard a sweet low song\ninside the palace, sweeter than any mortal song, like the flutes and\nharps of the gods. Then we looked in, and we saw the goddess weaving\nat a golden loom, and going up and down before it as she sang. And\nPolites--oh, dear Polites!--called out to her, and the song ceased,\nand Circe came out to us, and bade us enter, and her beauty was like\nmoonlight. Then the men went in, but I remained, mindful of the\nCyclops and fearing harm. So I sat down in the wood, and the beasts\nplayed round me, and the lions licked my hands with their hard rough\ntongues. But I could see what was toward in the palace hall.\n\n\"The goddess led them to rich couches and chairs, and she prepared a\ndrink for them of golden honey and purple wine, white fresh cheese,\nand meal of corn. But she poured a brew of magic herbs into the drink,\nand when they had passed the bowl from hand to hand and drunk she\nwaved a wand of cedar wood over them.\"\n\nHe stopped, choking with emotion and shaking with horror at what he\nhad seen. He covered his face with his hands.\n\nUlysses placed a firm hand upon his shoulder, and he took up his tale\nonce more. \"And when she waved her wand behold a horror! For suddenly\nmy comrades dwindled, and were changed to swine. The bristles of swine\ngrew out upon them, and they grunted like swine, but still the souls\nof men shone out of their eyes. And she drove them away into a pen,\nand threw them beech nuts, laughing most musically. And I, the\nunhappy one, fled and am come hither with my tale.\"\n\nUlysses rose with a pale set face, and stern hard lines flashed out\nround his lips. For a moment he prayed in silence to Athene. Then he\nslung his strung bow upon his shoulder, and loosened the arrows in the\nquiver, testing each one for a flaw in the shaft. He took his great\nsilver-studded sword and buckled it round his waist. \"I alone, my\ncomrades, must go to the palace of the enchantress,\" he said. \"I have\nno choice but to go and strive. May the gods preserve you, friends.\"\n\nHe was preparing to move away when they all entreated him to remain\nwith them, but he would not listen, and as he moved away and was lost\nto their sight they broke out into loud praises of him among\nthemselves.\n\nIt was ever thus. Their father and captain was first in wisdom and\ncourage, and had always seemed to them more god than man.\n\nUlysses passed over the meadows with slow sure step, thinking deeply.\nThe forest closed about him, dark and lonely, and his walk changed. He\nbecame alert, walking warily and softly. His keen eyes roved over the\nuntrodden paths, seeking to pierce the mystery of the greenwood.\n\nHe had halted by a brook for a moment, debating which path he should\nventure, when help came to him.\n\nThere was a crash in the tree tops above him, a glittering ball of\nlight fell through the green, and a wind rushed among the leaves,\nsuddenly rousing all the voices of the wood.\n\n    [Illustration: THEN HE CAME SWIFTLY UPON THE GLEAMING PALACE.\n        _Page 45._]\n\nA young and beautiful man, holding a golden rod, with a slight down\nupon his lip, came towards him.\n\nUlysses knew that the God Hermes had flashed down from heaven to be\nhis counsellor. He fell upon his knees before the divine messenger.\n\n\"The great Athene has sent me to you, king,\" said the god, \"for she\nheard your prayer upon the shore, and will deliver you from the forest\ndanger. Here is a sprig of the magic herb moly. Take it in your hand\nfor a safeguard against the wiles of Circe.\n\n\"When you go into the palace she will mix you her enchanted potion,\nand strike you with her wand. Do you draw your sword, and make as\nthough to slay her. Then she will fear greatly and swear to do you no\nharm.\"\n\nUlysses took the white flowered talisman, and Hermes vanished among\nthe trees.\n\nThen he came swiftly upon the gleaming palace, and going up to the\nmarble porch struck upon it with his sword hilt, and called to the\ngoddess.\n\nShe glimmered towards him. Her hair was like a young horse-chestnut\nfresh from the pod. Her eyes were like pools of violet water, her neck\nwas a tower of ivory, and her lips were red as sunset.\n\nThe flower of evil, the goddess of strange sins!\n\nShe smiled at the hero, and led him by the hand to a table on which\nwas a golden cup, proffering it to him in welcome.\n\nUlysses bowed low before her loveliness, and as he drank there was a\nstrange smile in his eyes.\n\nThe enchantress looked at him steadily. For a single moment a ripple\nof doubt crossed her face, but suddenly she seized her cedarn rod and\nsmote his side, crying, \"Get you to the stye, and lie there in filth\nwith your companions.\"\n\nUlysses drew his great sword, and held it over her with menacing eyes.\nShe drooped to him, a very woman! and clung round him, weeping, and he\ncould feel her warm heart beating, beating close to his. Her lovely\nhair fell around her in a golden cloud, and tears streamed down her\ncheeks as she swore by the gods on the Holy Hill never to harm him.\n\nAnd looking on her sinful loveliness the brain of Ulysses burned for\nher, and he took her lithe body in his strong arms and pressed the\nblossom of her lips to his. Her arms stole round him, and she called\nhim lord and king.\n\nThen with a soft smile she led him to the courtyard where the swine\nlay sleeping in the sun. When the foul beasts saw Ulysses they set up\na horrid chorus of grunting, and he raged to see his valiant friends\nso degraded. But clinging to him, the goddess raised her hand, and the\nswine vanished, and the goodly mariners stood up among the straw, more\nstraight and tall than before, with all the marks of hardship and\ntravel smoothed from their faces.\n\nThat night the other mariners came up from the shore, guided by\nUlysses. And the amber lamps flared in the hall, and all night till\ndaybreak they made a great feast. They sang in praise of love and\nwine, and Circe sat at the right hand of the King of Ithaca.\n\nWhen the rosy dawn rushed up the sky, the goddess rose.\n\nThe lamps paled in the fresh new light, and the feast was over.\n\nThe mariners lay in sleep about the board, and the purple wine was\nspilt about them.\n\nOnly the Goddess and the Hero were awake.\n\nThen she said, \"Lord and love, the night is over. The sun climbs the\nsky, the woodlands awake. But let us go into my scented chamber, my\npurple chamber where the day never comes. There will we lie in love\nand sleep and forget the day.\"\n\nShe led him by the hand over the cool marble floor. The purple\ncurtains fell behind them with a soft noise of falling. All sound was\nhushed in the courts of the palace, and the whole house was still.\n\n\n\n\nTHE THIRD EPISODE\n\nHOW ULYSSES WALKED IN HELL, AND OF THE ADVENTURE OF THE SIRENS AND\nSCYLLA\n\n\nThe King of Ithaca stood all alone on a gloomy barren shore, spear in\nhand. The sky lowered black overhead, and from the vast yawning hole\nin the terrible cliff which rose up before him he seemed to hear\nstrange wailings and faint cries coming, so it seemed, from a great\ndistance.\n\nHad he at last broken away from the loving arms of Circe for this\nhorror? Stung once more by the latent manhood in his blood, he had\nroused his energies and left the enchanted island to set out once more\nupon the weary quest for home. He had bade the goddess farewell and\nsailed away from the island of sweet lust to seek a ghostly counsellor\nand to drink deep at that fountain of wisdom which was once the glory\nof Thebes.\n\nWhen Circe had bade him, if he would indeed get back to Ithaca and\nleave her arms, seek the dead Tiresias in the place of the dead it had\nseemed an easy thing.\n\nWhat were pale ghosts to a warrior of Troyland and the vanquisher of\nPolyphemus? If the old seer alone could tell him how to conquer the\nwrath of Poseidon and win to his wife's arms once more, should he not\ngo with a will?\n\n    [Illustration: THEN HE WAS, IN AN INSTANT MOMENT, AWARE OF A\n      MORE THAN MORTAL PRESENCE.\n        _Page 49._]\n\nAnd he had set out with his crew, and the magic wind which Circe gave\nthem had brought them hither over grey sad seas, while they had\ntouched nor oars nor helm.\n\nAnd now Ulysses went slowly up to the fissure in the rock, but a long\nsolitary cry made him reel back trembling as his brave heart had never\ndone before.\n\nThen he was, in an instant moment, aware of a more than mortal\npresence. Into that dread place came the awful majesty of the Queen of\nHeaven, and he fell to the ground before Athene.\n\nThe full flowing river of her speech came down upon him.\n\n\"If thou wouldst hold thy wife once more, Ulysses, and see thy rocky\nwestern home, then must thou dare this peril. None can help thee now\nsave thou thyself. So it is decreed by the gods. If so be it that thy\ncourage fails thee now then wilt thou be a wanderer for ever.\"\n\n\"Lady of Heaven,\" he said, \"I dare not go. Oh, anything but that.\"\n\n\"Penelope!\" she murmured sweetly.\n\n\"I cannot face the dead.\"\n\n\"Ithaca.\"\n\n\"Oh, listen to those wailings in the abyss!\"\n\n\"Thy father Laertes weeps yet for the wanderer.\"\n\n\"The dead! The dead are waiting there!\"\n\n\"Men call thee Ulysses!\" said the goddess, and at that word something\nmoved within him and his limbs began to stiffen, and once more the\nhero felt the spear-shank hard and cold within his grasp.\n\nHe raised his face, and there was once more the old proud light upon\nit. Athene had gone, and big with his new resolve he stepped towards\nthe blackness.\n\nA voice came to him, thin, and far down.\n\n\"Ulysses! Ulysses! son of Laertes, I wait to guide thee. Hermes, son\nof Zeus, is with thee. Take courage in both hands and come.\"\n\nThe king moved forward, and the dark swallowed him up. He stumbled\nalong a descending rock-strewn pathway. In the increasing gloom it\nseemed to him that he was on the side of a steep hill. A moaning wind\nencircled him. Now and again a slight gleam was visible from the\ngolden helmet of the god.\n\nFar far down he saw the leaden livid river of death, and on the sullen\ntide floated the stately funeral barge of Charon, the ferryman of the\ndead.\n\nThe wind grew even more mournful and sad as they trod the meadows of\nasphodel and the grey lilies of the underworld towards the marge of\nStyx.\n\nThen the god called out aloud to the ferryman. As his voice echoed\nover the water, the dusky night became full of the sound of wings, and\ndark shapes filled the air. The spirits of the dead flapped round them\nin continual movement.\n\nThe ghosts began to call and cry to the living hero. Some had little\nsqueaky voices like bats, others made a louder and more hollow sound.\n\nThe howlings of the formless increased all round Ulysses.\n\nThe inarticulate found utterance in the indefinite.\n\nThe waves of weird and hopeless voices rose, fell, undulated, now loud\nand shrill, now sobbing into silence. Little eager whispers filled the\nhero's ear.\n\nAnd to the terror of these great murmurs were added the sight of\nsuperhuman outlines, which melted away in the gloom almost as they\nappeared. Alecto and Tisiphone, the Furies, circled round Ulysses, and\nMegeara flew through the dark to her sisters.\n\nA cold hand seemed placed upon the hero's soul. Cries from precipice\nto precipice, from air to water, went on unceasingly--the melancholy\nvociferations of the lost!\n\nThe loquacity of Hell!\n\nAnd in deadly fear, but resolute still, Ulysses struggled on through\nthis great twilight world, open on all sides. As he walked on, the\nflying outlaws of the tomb seemed to be swarming over him and pressing\nhim to the ground. He struggled beneath the weight of lost souls, but\nhis whirling arms struck nothing but the empty air.\n\nFresh clouds of spirits pricked the twilight, increased in size,\namalgamated, thickened, and hurried towards him, crying.\n\nThey came to the brink of the river. Before them, as they looked out\nover the water, was no horizon, but an opaque lividity like a wan,\nmoving precipice, a cliff of the night.\n\nThen the old man Charon bowed to the commands of the gods and embarked\nthem on his barge. He gazed on Ulysses with his keen wicked eyes, and\nhis long white beard wagged in hideous mockery at this mortal among\nthe dead.\n\nThe thin pole dipped in and out of the water, and the drops which fell\nfrom it were the colour of leaden bullets, for there is no life in the\nwater of Styx.\n\nUlysses knelt in the bottom of the boat and shut out Hell from his\neyes with his hand. He prayed to Athene for help to endure, and that\nhe might have an answer from the old Seer Tiresias that would lead him\nsafely home at last.\n\nAnd now the other bank of the river began to loom up before them and\nthe air began to be silent.\n\nOn the bank, as it seemed to welcome them, stood a tall old man with a\ngolden sceptre in his hand. His face was full of an unutterable\nsadness, and his eyes were horny and dim with blindness. But his magic\nstaff conducted him safely to the river brink, and in a high shivering\nvoice he hailed Ulysses.\n\n\"Why hast thou come here, O wise one, leaving the happy daylight for\nthis cheerless shore? Noble son of Laertes, I know thy quest, and thus\nmake answer. Father Zeus gave me power, which still remains, and I,\nan old blind ghost, can see into the future even on the shores of\nStyx. Thou seekest to know if thou wilt ever catch thy wife in thy\nstrong arms once more, and tread the well-beloved fields of Ithaca.\nThe mighty god of the sea, Poseidon, is wroth with thee and a\nmalevolent god. For even now his son Polyphemus stumbles a bruised and\nsightless way among his native hills. But yet you may return after\nlong woes and heavy toil. But one thing bear well in mind, O king,\nelse wilt thou suffer unbelievable things. When thy ship touches at\nthe Island Thrinacia, great herds of cattle will be feeding there on\nthe fresh sweet grass which grows in the goodly upper world. These be\nthe beeves and steers of the divine Helios, the Sun-God, and must be\ninviolate to men. But if one sacred beast is slain, then thy ship and\nall thy company will perish.\n\n\"Perchance thou thyself may win Ithaca forlorn, and to find others in\nthy place, but that I know not. I have spoken.\"\n\n    [Illustration: THEY CAME TO THE BRINK OF THE RIVER.\n        _Page 52._]\n\nThen with a long melancholy cry the figure vanished into the dark.\n\nBut in its place came a shadowy form which made the heart of the hero\nleap and beat, so it seemed all Hades was filled with the tumult.\n\nHis mother Anticlea stood before him.\n\nStretching out her cold, thin hands she spoke.\n\n\"My boy that I suckled, why hast thou come into Hades not yet being\ndead, for I see that the flesh is still warm upon thee for which I\ndrank to Zeus?\"\n\n\"Mother of mine, I sought Tiresias the Theban prophet. I have not\neven yet won Ithaca nor seen the dear ones there. A god is against me.\nSo I came through the spirits of the unburied, and over the dark river\nto seek counsel of the seer. Knowest thou in this beyond-earth if the\nbeloved Penelope still holds me in her heart? or is she perhaps here\nwith thee, lost to the sunlight?\"\n\nThe mother of Ulysses answered, \"Penelope is as faithful and true as\non thy wedding day, but she is in a peril, so haste ye home. And now\nfarewell.\" Where Ulysses had seen his mother, was but a little grey\nvapour which swayed and vanished.\n\nThen the hero called roughly to Charon, and bade him take the pole and\nurge the barge back to the starting-place. This time, though the\nmultitude of the dead circled over him with cries, begging his help to\ntake them out of Hades, he felt no fear, for his mind was burning with\nother thoughts.\n\nHe mounted the long cliff side, and at last in the distance saw a\nfaint gleam of light stealing down towards him. In the pale gleam the\nfigure of Hermes was manifest for a moment flitting up to the day\nbefore him.\n\nThe cries grew fainter and more faint. The light changed from grey to\nprimrose, from primrose to yellow. The little star which was the mouth\nof the cave became a sun and then a world, and the yellow turned into\nthe white hot sunshine as Hell faded utterly away.\n\nOn the beach the little blue waves sang on the yellow sand. The black\ndivers rose lazily on the swell, and the shields round the prow of the\nship shone like white fire.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOnce more the vessel of heroes swam over the seas. And now there was\nanother quality in the wind for them, and the world was a new world.\n\nTheir leader had told them that if they obeyed his commands they would\nwin home once more. The news he had brought back from Hades made them\nsturdy and strong of heart, and they vowed that in all things they\nwould trust in the king who had dared the perils of the underworld.\n\nTheir thoughts turned with a lover's thirst to images of their native\nland, tranquil skies, the old-remembered meadows, cool brooks, and\neternal peace after their long wandering.\n\nHope beat high in the heart of Ulysses also. The grey nightmare of\nHell was over and in the past, one more memory when in his own halls\nhe would weave his saga.\n\nHe had been near to the awful thing Death.\n\nHe had found that after all it was only Death.\n\nThe ship with a fair wind ran up a lane of light into the setting sun,\nand when at length the moon had risen and silvered all the sea,\nUlysses called the men round him.\n\n\"Comrades,\" he said, \"with the dawn, if I have kept the reckoning\naright, we shall come to the island where the Sirens dwell. Now the\nLady Circe warned me against the Sirens, the singers who charm all men\nwith their song. He who listens to Parthenope, Ligeia and Leucosia\nmust stay with them for ever, listening spellbound to the song until\nhe dies. And the island is covered with the bones of dead men. To\nlisten is to die. But I wish to hear the voices and to escape the\nenchantment, and so obey my commands. When we near the island do you\nall close your ears with wax so that no sound can reach your brains.\nAnd take a stout rope and bind me to the mast so that I can in no wise\nloose myself. And howsoever I may order or entreat you to let me go to\nthe Sirens, if their magic song enchants me, take no heed, but row\nsteadily onwards until the island is far astern. Then only may you set\nme free.\"\n\nAs dawn came, a faint grey line upon the horizon showed itself on the\nstarboard bow. At the sight, with some laughter, for it was difficult\nto believe in the perils of sweet music!--even for men who had seen\nthe wonders that they had seen--the men began to press yellow wax from\nthe honeycomb into each other's ears.\n\nThen when no one among them could hear the flapping of the sail or the\nvoice of the sea, nor could tell the meaning of his neighbour's voice,\nthey went up to Ulysses, and with many light-hearted jests bound him\nto the mast, and because his strength was well known to them they\nreeved the rope with a treble hitch. No living man could have escaped\nfrom such bonds.\n\nAs sailors will, they treated the whole thing as a huge jest, making a\nmock mutiny of it as they bound the captain. Ulysses could not help\nsmiling at their mirth.\n\nAfter such wise precaution he had no fear, and in his heart of hearts\nhe did not believe that the song of the Sirens would affect him much,\nthough he followed the advice of Circe and made himself a prisoner.\n\nBut a fierce curiosity possessed him. He cursed the slowness of the\nwind, for, as they bound him, the island was still a low line without\ncolour on the water, and called out to the men to row faster,\nforgetting that they could not hear him.\n\nSlowly the grey island became purple, then brown, and at last showed\nitself a green, low, pleasant land, a place of meadows.\n\nThe wind was behind them, and until they came quite close under the\nlee of the island Ulysses could hear no voices but those of the wind\nand waves. Then faintly at first, but rapidly becoming more sonorous\nand sweet, he heard the magic voices which were to ring in his ears in\nall his after life.\n\nNo words of his at any time could express the loveliness of those\nvoices, of the unutterable sweetness of it, nothing.\n\nThe strains floated over the still sea like harps of heaven.\n\nAll that man had known or desired in life, all the emotions which had\nstirred the human heart, were blended in those magic voices. The world\nhad nothing more to give; here, here at last, was the absolute\nfulfilment of beauty.\n\nLouder and more piercingly sweet, as the unconscious sailors bent to\nthe oars in earnest, and the sweat ran down their bare brown backs.\n\n    \"Whither away, whither away, whither away? Fly no more.\n    Whither away from the high green field, and the happy\n        blossoming shore?\n    Day and night to the billow the fountain calls:\n    Down shower the gambolling waterfalls\n      From wandering over the lea.\"\n\nThe face of Ulysses grew wan and grey as the ship passed a projecting\npoint of rock. On the smooth green turf the three singers were\nstanding. In face and form they were sweet and lovely girls.\n\nNaked to the waist, they wore long flowing draperies below, and as\nthey sung the rosy bosoms rose and fell with the music, and the lucid\nthroats rippled with song.\n\n    \"Mariner, mariner, furl your sails,\n    For here are blissful downs and dales,\n    And merrily, merrily carol the gales,\n    And the spangle dances in bight and bay,\n    And the rainbow forms and flies on the land\n    Over the islands free;\n    And the rainbow lives in the curve of the sand;\n    Hither, come hither and see.\"\n\nAnd still the ship went on, but more slowly, as it were some force\nwere at work deadening the arms of the rowers.\n\nThen the shrill loveliness fired the hero's blood, and he knew that he\nmust go to the three lovely singers on the strand. Earth held nothing\nbetter than this--to lie for ever with that music in his ears.\n\n    \"Whither away? listen and stay: mariner, mariner, fly no more.\"[1]\n\n    [1] These few lines of the Sirens' song have been taken from\n    Lord Tennyson's beautiful poem \"The Sea Fairies.\"\n\nThen, as if drawn by the long cadenced notes as by cords, Ulysses\ngathered up his mighty strength and strove with his bonds.\n\nBut the sailors had done their work too well, and the rope only cut\ndeeply into the flesh.\n\nThe white arms were stretched out to him in supplication, the song\ngrew more full of unearthly beauty than before--and the ship was\nslowly passing by.\n\nUlysses called out to the crew in an agony of command and entreaty.\n\nOne of the men happened to look up and saw his face. He grinned,\nnudged his companion, and turned away.\n\nThe song grew fainter, the three tall figures dwindled. The face of\nUlysses grew ashen, and when at length they came to him and cut the\nropes he said no word.\n\nHe went alone to the prow of the vessel and looked out over the fair\nsun-bathed sea, and there were tears in his eyes, and his mouth was\nsofter and more tremulous than it was wont to be.\n\nSo they came away from Parthenope, Ligeia and Leucosia, the Sirens.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe next day Ulysses called the crew together as before and told them\nof the new peril that awaited them. For the wise Circe had warned him\nthat after the island of the Sirens he must needs encounter the\nterrible Scylla, for the ship must pass by her lair on its passage\ntowards Home.\n\nBut Ulysses knew that it was impossible to fight the monster, and that\nsome of the crew were fated to die, but in his wisdom he did not tell\nthem that.\n\nHe finished his speech as follows:--\"And so, my friends, the gods\nordain that we must face Scylla, and the whirlpool Charybdis. There is\nno other way. But courage! always have courage. I who brought you safe\nfrom out of the cave of the Cyclops will bring you safe from this\nalso. And so onward and have stout hearts.\"\n\nIt was a misty day, and everything was shadowy and faint, but the ship\nmoved slowly along a sheer wall of black cliff which towered up above\nthem for a thousand feet or more. The top was lost in the mist. It was\na lowering, frightful place.\n\nOne of the sailors gave a shout which echoed back to them in mournful\nmockery through the mist.\n\nThey rowed on steadily, hugging the cliff. Ulysses stood in the prow\nof the boat. He had put on armour and took two spears in his hand.\n\nHis eyes searched the face of the cliff till they ached from the\nminute scrutiny.\n\nThis waiting for the inevitable was terribly unnerving. Ulysses\nhimself, knowing that some must die, was heavy and sad at heart as\nthey glided along the side of the cliff.\n\nTo the left the great whirlpool seethed and boiled, its outermost\nconvolution scarce a bow-shot away. When it threw up the water the\nspray dashed up a hundred feet and fell in showers over the sailors,\nand as the water ran back in the ebb Ulysses could see, far down the\nblack and spinning sides, to where the old witch Charybdis dwelt on\nthe dark sand of the sea bottom.\n\nSuddenly the end came. A loud barking and howling startled them all so\nthat each man paused on his oar. A pack of hounds were unkenneled, so\nit seemed, somewhere on the cliff face in the mist.\n\nThen a sickly musky smell enveloped them, so foul and stale that they\ncoughed and spat even as their blood ran cold with fear.\n\nThrough the curtain of mist, which had suddenly grown very thick, six\nobjects loomed right over the boat.\n\nSix long tentacles swayed and quivered over the sailors, and at the\nend of each was a grinning head set with cruel fangs and a little red\neager tongue that flickered in and out.\n\nFor a moment the heads hung poised, and then each sought and found its\nvictim.\n\nSix sailors were slowly drawn out of the boat, shrieking the name of\nUlysses for the last time in their death agony. And all the time the\nbarking of the hounds in the obscene womb of the monster went on\nunceasingly.\n\nThen the fury of flight came upon them. With bursting brains and red\nfire before their eyes they laboured at the great oars until the wood\nbent and shook and the ship leaped forward like a driven horse.\n\nAnd they left the strait of death and came out of the mist into a wide\nsunlit sea. But still a sound of distant barking came down the wind.\n\nSo Scylla took her horrid toll of heroes.\n\nBut Ulysses called them to prayer and lamentation for the dead.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOURTH EPISODE\n\nHOW ULYSSES LOST HIS MERRY MEN AND CAME A WAIF TO CALYPSO WITH THE\nSHINING HAIR\n\n\nThe crew sat round a fire of driftwood.\n\nThere was shelter where they sat, in a natural alcove of rock, but\noutside the great winds thundered and the wrack flew before the storm\nand a mighty unceasing roar filled the air.\n\nThe faces of all the sailors wore a sullen look. Hunger had begun to\nsuck the colour from their cheeks, their eyes were prominent and\nstrained, their movements without energy or vigour.\n\nA rude shelter of sailcloth and various _d\u00e9bris_ that was scattered\nabout seemed to show that for some time, at least, they had made their\nhome in this place where the winds did not come.\n\nUlysses was not among them. They were talking in low, discontented\ntones among themselves.\n\n\"A whole month,\" said Eurylochus, \"a whole month have we been sea\nbound in this accursed island. I am sick of islands!\"\n\n\"Never have we put to shore without some evil thing befalling,\" said\nanother. \"Oh, for Ithaca!\"\n\n\"I doubt we shall ever see Ithaca again,\" said a third. \"We will be\nwanderers till we die; that is what I think. And this place is like to\nbe the grave of all of us. I never knew a wind so furious to blow so\nlong. We should sink in an hour did we but put out.\"\n\n\"There is only food for one day more, and that sparse,\" said\nEurylochus. \"For my part, my limbs are heavy as brass and the strength\nis all gone from me. I could not move an oar now. Man needs meat and\nwine or the fires of hunger burn the sinews and dry the blood. Brown\nmeat and red wine! I could fill my belly till the skin cracked!\"\n\n\"The rich brown meat, mate! Dost mind the soft kids on Circe's island?\nBy Zeus, I can taste them now!\"\n\n\"Ay and the fat cows, roast till the blood ran out of them like liquid\nlife.\"\n\n\"I can even smell the smell of the roasting meat now. A welcome smell\nto a hungry man.\"\n\n\"Would that we had never left Circe. 'Twas a kind queen, meet for our\nmaster! but her girls were kindly in love also.\"\n\n\"To Hades with the girls!\" said Eurylochus. \"Thy talk of meat makes me\nheave with desire.\"\n\nHe looked round cautiously before he continued.\n\n\"Friends,\" he said in a low, rapid whisper, \"tell me, are ye purposing\nto starve in the midst of plenty? Saw ye ever such fat oxen and cows\nas graze in the pastures above?\"\n\n\"Never did I see such cattle,\" answered another hungry wight. \"Gods!\nthey would make a feast for kings.\"\n\n\"And yet pain and sickness is all over us, and we lust for food till\nwe know not what we do!\"\n\n\"Captain's orders!\"\n\n\"Ulysses has lost his cunning for sure, and hunger has turned his\nbrain. He is no more the brave leader of old. He goes wandering alone\namong the rocks and sleeps all day. And his eye is clouded and courage\nhas left his voice. Friends, shall we die thus? No man of ye loveth\nUlysses better than I love him. Is he not my kinsman indeed? He\nbrought us from the Cyclops' cave and dared the perils of Hell. All\nthis I know and say before you now. But the king is distraught and\nmoody. He does not know what he is doing. He would be the first to\njoin us with the merry and grateful word were he to come back and find\nthe good red beef roasting on the fire and smell the savoury smoke.\"\n\n\"Ay, captain was never one set against a feast! He loves good cheer,\nas becomes a proper fighting man.\"\n\n\"My mind doubts me, comrades,\" said another. \"Should we not rather\ntrust the king even unto this last thing? Have we ever found him\nwanting yet? Did he not make us promise? Zeus knows if the thought of\nhot meat does not tickle my belly as well as thine--more, friend, for\nthou hast a paunch yet and none have I--but I for one trust in the\ncaptain. He knows.\"\n\nThen Eurylochus took up his spear as if he had decided and the\ndiscussion was over.\n\n\"Listen, men,\" he said. \"In all shapes death is a terrible thing. But\nI would rather die quickly at Scylla's hands than fade into Hades\nthrough famine. Hunger is the worst death of all. Come with me and\nbring your spears. We will choose the best of the herd and sacrifice\nto the gods. When we reach home again, can we not build a great temple\nto Helios, and fill it with rich gifts? The Sun-God, who gives light\nto all the world, will not grudge us a cow or two. Not he. 'Tis a more\ngenial god than that. Ay, and though we indeed anger the god and he\nwreck us in the deep! I put ye this question--Would ye not rather\nswallow the cold salt water for a moment and so die, than die for days\namong the rocks?\"\n\nHis pale face worked with the force of his words. His eyes glistened\nwith a terrible eagerness. As he spoke in a high, quivering nervous\ntenor, shaking his spear at them, the eagerness crept into their eyes\nalso.\n\nFamine strangely transforms the human face. They became men with\nbrute's eyes.\n\nEurylochus marched away out of the shelter towards the pasture lands,\nand the others followed him. New strength seemed to come to them as\nthey walked towards the herd, which could be seen, a red brown mass,\ngrazing on a plain some half-mile away.\n\nThe full force of the wind struck and retarded them as they emerged\ninto the open, but it brought the lowing of the cattle to their ears\nand they pressed on.\n\nUlysses lay sleeping about a quarter of a mile from the cove.\n\nHe had wandered away from his companions in great despondency. For\nfour long weeks the gale had roared past the island away to the north.\nThe rain had fallen like spears, the thunder stammered its awful\nmessage, the green and white lightning snapped like whips of light. In\nall this the king saw the finger of evil. He knew that the mighty\nPoseidon still watched his fortunes with cruel, angry eyes. For this\nstorm was no chance warring of the elements, but came, he knew,\ndirected against him and his fated crew.\n\nFood had got lower and lower, the men began to grumble, and black\nlooks of reproach met his eyes on every side.\n\nAnd all the time the fat cattle of Apollo cropped the tender shoots of\nthe grass, the full udder dropped with creamy milk, and the shining\nflanks of the great beasts sent an alluring message to the starving\nmen.\n\nOften Ulysses withdrew into some lonely place and prayed to Athene,\nbut she seemed asleep or weary of his woes, for there came no\nanswering sign.\n\nOn this day hope seemed to have utterly departed from him. There was\nno break in the leaden clouds of the future.\n\nHe had wandered away along the seashore, and fallen asleep from\nlanguor and grief, lulled by the great singing of the gale overhead.\n\nIn his sleep he dreamed vividly. He saw the interior of the island.\nSuddenly, from among a clump of trees, a bright beam of golden light\nshot up heavenwards. He knew that one of the shepherd nymphs of Apollo\nwent with some message for the god, and he shivered and moaned in his\nslumber.\n\nThen it seemed that he was in a great place of cloud, an immense\nformless world of mist. And through the mist came a terrible voice\nwhich turned him to stone. It was the voice of Apollo crying in anger.\n\n\"Oh, Father Zeus, and all ye gods who dwell upon the hill above the\nthunder! punish the comrades of Ulysses for their crime. They have\nspeared my beautiful cows that were my joy and of which I had great\npleasure. Whenever I turned my face and shone upon the world I watched\nthem feeding in my island. And now these whelps have slain the finest\nof all my herd. Vengeance! Bitter vengeance, or will I go far down\ninto Hell and leave the world in gloom and shine no more upon it. I\nwill make Hades a place of warmth and laughter, and the world all grey\nand full of death.\"\n\nIn the midst Ulysses awoke with that angry cry still ringing in his\nears. With a sick apprehension he hurried along the slippery boulders\nto the shelter place where he had left the crew.\n\nWithin a hundred yards of the place he knew the worst. The wind blew\na savoury smoke towards him, and his stomach yearned while his brain\ntrembled in fear.\n\nThe men were in high glee when he came round the corner of rock among\nthem, great joints turned upon rough spits, skins and horns encumbered\nthe ground, and the rich fat dropped hissing into the fire.\n\nA sudden silence fell upon their merriment as the captain came. He\nspread out his hands with a gesture of despair.\n\n\"Comrades,\" he said sorrowfully, \"ye have chosen to do this thing\nagainst my advice, and now it is done we must abide by the deed. I\ncannot reproach you. Still, I know that we must pay heavily for this\nsin against the Sun-God. Farewell, Ithaca! And now it is over let us\neat of our unhallowed spoil. It may be that this is our last meal\ntogether, comrades.\"\n\nAs he had finished speaking a strange and ominous thing happened. The\nblood-stained skins began to creep about like live things upon the\nground.\n\nThe red meat over the fire withered and moaned as if in pain. The air\nwas filled with a lowing as of cows.\n\nThen in mad fear and riotous despair they fell upon the horrid meal\nwith eager, tremulous hands. Ulysses was taken with the madness like\nthe rest, and until sundown they gorged the dripping meat till they\ncould eat no more, and their faces were bloated and their eyes were\nstrained.\n\nAs the sun sank into the sea with a red and angry face the wind\ndropped and ceased. A great calm spread over the waters. When the moon\nrose the ocean was like a sheet of still silver.\n\nVery hurriedly, whispering among themselves, as though they were\nafraid of their own voices, they launched the ship and rowed out into\nthe moonlight, racing away from the accursed isle.\n\nAnd now the last scene of all came very quickly.\n\nUlysses was wont to say that of all the things he had witnessed in his\nlife this was the saddest and most terrible.\n\nA sudden crackle of thunder pealed over the sky. A fantastic network\nof lightning played round the ship like lace.\n\nA dark cloud formed itself directly over the boat, not two mast's\nlengths above, and all the waves below became like ink in the shadow.\nFor a time it hung there motionless, and then suddenly a mighty wind\nswooped down on them like a hawk drops out of the sky. The mast\nsnapped like a pipe-stem and crashed upon the deck, braining the\nhelmsman in its fall. A smooth green wave, just slightly bubbling with\nfroth on the crest, but like a hill of oil, rose and swept over the\nship.\n\nUlysses clung to a stanchion with all his mighty strength, and was\njust able to battle against the flood. When it passed over him he saw\nthat every man of the crew was in the water. For a few moments they\nfloated round him with sad cries of farewell, and then one by one they\nwere swept into the Ultimate.\n\nThe timbers of the ship broke away and she fell to pieces. With a loud\ncry to Athene, Ulysses launched himself on the waves clinging to a\ngreat log which had formed part of the keel. A swift current urged him\nalong far away from the scene of the wreck.\n\nThe purpose of the god was accomplished, and the waves fell, and the\nmoonlight shone out clear and still once more.\n\nOn all the waste of waters no sail, no cape nor headland broke the\nsilver monotone.\n\nLoneliness descended upon the hero like a cloak; an utter abandonment\nsuch as he had never known before in life.\n\nThe water began to grow very cold.\n\nAn awful silence lay over the sea. The terrible jubilant silence of a\ngod revenged!\n\n\"And so all those well-known, long-tried voices were still! Never\nagain would Eurylochus drain the full tankard in a kindly health.\"\n\nUlysses bowed his head, and bitter tears welled up into his eyes.\n\n\"Never again would grey old Diphilos stand at the helm of the good\nship, sending his keen eyes out over the sounding wastes. How the last\nmournful cry of Jamenos had echoed through the storm. Young, straight\nJamenos who had approached the Cyclops with him, beautiful young\nJamenos, with the bold eyes and curling hair! And there was old\nPerdix too, old Perdix with his grin and chuckle and his tales. Never\nwould Perdix sit by the fire and make merry yarns any more. The little\ntwinkling rat-like eyes were stark and glazed now. Perdix stood beside\nthe livid river among the rushing spirits. He would have no jests\nnow.\"\n\nHe saw them all together, in peril, storm, and quiet weather. His\ntrusty men! His dear comrades!\n\nAnd now he alone was left, alone, alone, alone.\n\nPerhaps Athene herself was still with him and had not even yet\nforgotten her wanderer. As the thought struck along his brain a faint\nblush of hope began to flush his pallid cheek.\n\nHe floated on and on. Dawn came, waxed strong, waned. Tremulous\nevening came like a shy novice about to take the veil of night. Night\nblazed in moonlit splendour once more.\n\nAnd at the hour when night stands still and dawn is not yet, the\nwaves, kindlier than before, carried him to the island of Ogygia,\nwhere he heard the sea nymphs on the shore singing him a fairy\nwelcome.\n\nSoft hands drew him from the deep, soft voices welcomed him; it seemed\nas if one queenly presence, a tall woman with golden hair which shone,\ntowered among the rest, and he fell into a gentle swoon, a soft\nsurrender to sleep.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    \"We watch the fleeting isles of shade\n      That float upon the sea\n    When 'neath the sun some cloud hath spread\n      His purple canopy.\n    The woodbine odours scent the air,\n      The cypress' leaves are wet\n    From meadow springs that rise among\n      Parsley and violet.\n    Here shall the Wanderer remain;\n      The land of Love's Delight;\n    Shall here forget the past, the old\n      Sad spectres of the night.\"\n\nSoft and low the sea-maidens sang while Ulysses lay sleeping--even as\nthey had sung nine long years ago when the sea cast him up on the\nshores of Calypso's kingdom.\n\nIt was bright sunlight, a great fire of cedar wood burnt on an altar\nbefore the cave of the goddess who loved the hero, and the smoke\nscented all the island.\n\nAmong the grove of stately trees which bordered the smooth pneumatic\nlawn in front of the cave Ulysses lay sleeping on a bed of fresh-born\nviolets. A purple mantle shot with gold, woven by Calypso, was spread\nover him.\n\nThe poplars and fragrant cypresses were full of sweet-voiced birds.\n\nOver the mouth of the cave grew a great vine, and the black grapes\ndrooped and fell from it in their abundance.\n\nFrom the centre of the short emerald grass four springs of clear water\ncame up in thin whips and flowed away in flashing rivulets.\n\nThis was the home and kingdom of the Goddess Calypso, and was so\nbeautiful a place that the fame of it had even reached Olympus, and\nthe gods knew of the island.\n\nAnd nine long years had passed! It was nine years ago that the pale\ngaunt waif of the sea--a sad jetsam!--had swooned upon the yellow\nsand, while the bright-haired lady of Ogygia had gazed in wonder upon\nhim.\n\nCirce had enthralled Ulysses for a year in her palace of wine and\nsorcery and lust. That was a time of fierce sinful pleasures, of wild\ndeliriums.\n\nThe fire had blazed, burnt, and died away in that still marble house\nin the wood.\n\nBut how different these nine dreamy years! The mild-eyed, loving\ngoddess lay in the hero's arms each night in tender love and sleep.\nShe was no Circe, but a lady of quieter delights. Her spell was upon\nhim, he was chained to her kind side by a magic influence, but she\nloved him, and was no Circe.\n\nNine long years!\n\nThose old valiant mariners from the plains of Troyland were only white\nbones now, part of the sea-bed. They were far-off, remote, sweet sad\nmemories.\n\nCalypso was the slow and gracious music to which his life moved now.\nOften he doubted all the past. They were phantoms all those old\nhalf-forgotten people.\n\nSo he lay sleeping among the violets. The scented wind gave a myriad\nwhispers to the poplars. The four springs sang a thin jocund song as\nthey burst from the dark rich earth into the sunshine, and within her\ncave the goddess threw the golden shuttle and made a low crooning\nmusic as she thought of her stately warrior hard by, and sent him\ndreams of her white neck and wealth of golden hair.\n\nShe knew he would never leave her now. Her spells were too strong. Her\nlove too great.\n\nDuring the first years he had been wont to wander away to a lonely\npart of the shore. He would sit gazing with haunted eyes out over the\nsea, and his thoughts went to Penelope, and he shed a tear for old\nKing Laertes and whispered to little Telemachus.\n\nBut that also was over for him now. Ithaca was but a misty cloud, and\nthe dear ones there but dreams in this island of dreams.\n\nThe face of Ulysses was changed. The hard lines of endeavour, the\nbrown painting of the wind, had gone from it. Noble and beautiful\nstill, but even in sleep it could be seen to have lost its force.\n\nSuddenly, in the dim recesses of the grove, there was a silence. The\nbirds stopped singing, and the murmur of the insects droned, swelled\nlouder, and died away.\n\nNothing was heard for a moment but the trickle of the streams, and\nthen this also faded from sound.\n\nBy the side of the sleeping hero stood the tall white figure of\nAthene. At her feet yellow flowers broke out like little flames, and\nher deep, grave eyes were bent full upon Ulysses.\n\nPerhaps he felt that unearthly majesty above him, for he turned and\nmoaned in his sleep.\n\nThe goddess, like a statue of white marble, stood looking down at him\nfor several moments. Then with a little sigh she stooped and touched\nhis forehead with her long slender fingers.\n\nThe birds began a full-throated ecstasy of song, which filled the wood\nwith a sound as of a myriad tiny flutes. The furry bees went swinging\nthrough the sunlit grove with deep organ music, the shrill tinkle of\nthe streams sent its cool message once more into the hot swooning air.\n\nWhere the goddess had stood there was nothing but a clump of yellow\ncrocus and some violets more vivid than the rest.\n\nUlysses awoke with sudden stammerings like a frightened child. He\nlooked round him with strange troubled eyes.\n\nThen slowly he rose up and walked through the wood towards the cave of\nCalypso.\n\nForgotten fingers were upon the latch of his brain, old scenes began\nto move through it in swift familiar panorama, he was as a man who\nwakened from a sleep of years.\n\nOne word burst from his lips--\"Penelope!\" His face cleared as though a\nmist had suddenly dispersed before it, and his walk quickened into a\nfirm, long stride as he came out on to the lawn.\n\nHe stopped short as he saw the mouth of the cave. Calypso was pacing\nup and down with her sinuous graceful step, and at her side walked a\ntall young man with a golden wand in his hand and winged sandals upon\nhis feet.\n\nAnd Ulysses knew him for the God Hermes who had given him the sacred\nherb in Circe's island and who had led him down the gloomy ways of\nHades.\n\nThey turned and came towards him.\n\n\"He will never wish to go, Hermes,\" he heard Calypso say as they drew\nnear.\n\n\"King,\" said the god, \"I am come to you with a message from Father\nZeus. He hath seen you lying in this island with the goddess, and bids\nme tell you of Ithaca and home once more, that your heart may beat\nstrong within you and you may adventure forth and find your wife\nPenelope in your ancestral house. And the father promises you divine\nprotection. Your long wanderings shall be at an end, and you shall\ncome safely to the land of your heart's desire. Is it your will to go\nand leave the lady?\"\n\nThe goddess laughed a little musical laugh of certain triumph.\n\n\"Go!\" she cried. \"Ah, he will not go, Hermes. Could he not have left\nme any time these nine long years of love? Go! No, my mariner loves\ntoo well the soft couches of Ogygia, and these weak arms can yet hold\nhis wisdom captive. How will you answer, my heart's love?\"\n\n\"To Ithaca?\" said Ulysses.\n\n\"Yes, to Penelope thy wife, who sorroweth for thee and is in peril,\"\nanswered the god.\n\nA bright light flashed into Ulysses' eyes and his cheek was flushed\nwith hope.\n\n\"Now have I tarried too long in this place,\" he cried. \"I know not\nwhy, but never before has my heart burned within me as now. Yes, to\nIthaca! back to my father and my wife and the old hills of home! Zeus\nbe praised, for I who was asleep waken this day, and manhood is mine\nonce more.\"\n\nThen Calypso drooped her lovely head like a tired flower as the God\nHermes flashed up into the sky like a beam of light.\n\n\"I see something of which I know not has come over you, lord of my\nheart,\" she said sadly. \"I have no more power, save only the power of\nmy deep love for you which you have forgotten. Who am I that I can\ncombat the will of Zeus or the hardness of your heart? I have loved\nyou well and cherished you, and shall I love you less now? No, I am no\ncruel goddess. Go, and my heart be with you; and what power is mine to\naid you that shall you have. I doubt,\" she said, with a sudden burst\nof anger, \"I doubt you have some greater goddess than I at your side,\nsome lovelier lady, else how could my spell be broken? But now come\nwithin and make a farewell feast with me. My heart is sick and I would\ndie. But one thing I can give you if you will not go. Would you be\nimmortal? Stay with your lover and that gift is yours. Never shall\ndeath touch you or age. I am a goddess and can never die. Am I less\nbeautiful than Penelope, or less kind?\"\n\nUlysses answered her pleadings slowly and painfully.\n\n    [Illustration: \"WHO AM I THAT I CAN COMBAT THE WILL OF ZEUS\n      OR THE HARDNESS OF YOUR HEART?\"\n        _Page 78._]\n\n\"My queen and goddess, I know indeed that Penelope can never compare\nwith such immortal loveliness as yours. Yes, she will grow old and\nwrinkled, and must die. Yet night and day all my heart must go out to\nher, and I would endure a thousand storms and sorrows to see home once\nmore.\"\n\n\"Because of my great love for you, go, and may all the gods shower\nblessings on you and protect you,\" she said in a low voice, and her\neyes were all blind with tears.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOn a red evening Calypso stood alone on a rock that jutted out into\nthe sea.\n\nA black speck against the setting sun showed clear and far away.\n\nThen the night fell, and she wandered weeping through her scented\navenues.\n\nBut her heart was away on the moaning sea, away with Ulysses the\ndeparted.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LAST EPISODE\n\nHOW THE KING CAME HOME AGAIN AFTER THE LONG YEARS\n\n\nWith the tears blinding his eyes, with shaking hands, speechless with\nthe happy thoughts surging in his brain, Ulysses knelt and kissed the\ndear, dear shores of his own country.\n\nThe same rocky coasts, the same great mountain in the centre of the\nisland raising its head into the clouds, everywhere eternally the\nsame, and how beloved! was it not all mist and dreams--the long past?\nHow he heard the Sirens sing, seen the swaying arms of the foul\nScylla, and dwelt in love and slumber with Calypso?\n\nAnd by his side once more stood the goddess, serene and beautiful in\nher benevolent but awful calm. From her lips he had heard that here,\neven here in his own land, in the fields of his inheritance, one more\nsupreme effort awaited him. He had learnt how his palace was full of\nriotous princes, who wooed his wife, the Queen Penelope. He knew how\nhis son, the goodly Prince Telemachus, was least in his own house, and\nhow wild revel and wantonness ate up his substance. The queen in\nperil! Penelope all but given up to the desires of lust and greed. All\nhis great heart burnt with anger and hate against the suitors, and\nyet, with a strange dual emotion, beat high with pride for his dear\nand stainless lady, who still mourned for her husband, and longed\nagainst hope for his return.\n\nHe kissed the kindly home-ground, and at that sacred contact a sense\nof strength and power came to him, a god-like power, that in all his\nlong toils and wanderings he had never known before.\n\nHe became conscious that Athene was speaking to him. \"And remember\never, my Ulysses, that now thou hast need of all thy wit and cunning.\nIn all the chances of thy life before never hadst thou need to walk as\nwarily as now. For mere strength and valour unallied to wisdom and\ncunning will avail one nothing against the hundred. But at the hour of\nneed I will be once more with thee if thou doest well and wisely.\nCourage! son of Laertes! 'tis but a little while till the end. Let not\nthy love and hate master thee until the appointed hour. And now, that\nthou mayest walk in thy palace and groves unknown for who thou art, I\ngive thee a disguise. And so farewell until the hour of triumph.\"\n\nShe stretched out her spear over the kneeling king. The firm flesh\ndried and wrinkled upon his arms and legs. His hair shrivelled up into\ngrey sparseness and his eyes dimmed. He wore a tattered cloak, a thing\nof shreds and patches, and an old beggar's staff of ilex was in his\nhand.\n\nBut beneath this seeming age and weakness was hidden the true hero as\nstrong and cunning as before.\n\nThe goddess turned into light and was no more, and with slow, tottering\nfootsteps Ulysses took a lonely way among the well-remembered paths of\nhis native hills.\n\nAfter an hour's travelling he came out on a smooth pasture land, with\na little homestead nestling among a clump of trees. His heart beat\neagerly within him, for if perchance after these long years farmer\nEum\u00e6us still lived, here he might gain news of his palace and perhaps\na friend.\n\nEum\u00e6us was once the steward of the estates and a very faithful servant\nof his master. Ulysses approached the house. In front was a large\ncourtyard, made by a fence of oak and hawthorn boughs, and within were\ntwelve great pens for swine.\n\nAnd in the porch sat old Eum\u00e6us himself making himself a pair of\nsandals, hardly changed in a single feature, though perhaps his eyes\nwere not so bright as in the old times.\n\nHearing footsteps, the four fierce dogs which herded the swine rushed\nout of the yard and leapt angrily at the newcomer. He might have fared\nbadly, for the great beasts were lean and evil-tempered, had not the\nswineherd ran out to his help and drew them off with curses.\n\n    [Illustration: \"NAY, IF YOU LOVE ME,\" HE SAID, \"NONE OF THAT,\n      MY FRIEND.\"]\n\nHe turned to Ulysses. \"Thank the gods, old fellow,\" he cried, \"that I\nwas near by. A little more and you would have been torn to pieces,\nand then you would be in an evil plight but I a worse! Dead would you\nbe and past caring, but I should be disgraced. Heaven knows, I have\nenough trouble to bear. Here's my lawful master gone in foreign parts\nthese long years--dead as like as not--and I sit here feeding swine\nfor them that are but little better themselves. But come in, come in,\nold shrew. There's a bite of food for you within, which you need I\nmake no doubt, and then you can tell me your story, for I am a lonely\nman now and like a crack of talk as well as most.\"\n\nThe garrulous old fellow pushed him in with busy geniality and sat him\ndown on the goatskin, which was his bed. Then he fetched what meat and\nwine he could furnish, and they sat down to a frugal meal.\n\n\"What, then, about this lord of yours?\" said Ulysses. \"I myself have\nwandered far these last years. Perhaps I may have met with him, and\ncan give you news.\"\n\nThe swineherd chuckled.\n\n\"Nay, if you love me,\" he said, \"none of that, my friend. Why, every\ndirty old man as comes along this way has some such tale to tell. And\nthen my poor lady up in the palace--the gods save her!--she takes them\nin and gives them a new cloak or what not, and believes all they say\nuntil the next one comes along. No! my dear lord is dead and never\nshall I look upon the like of him again. By Zeus! but he was a man if\nyou like!\"\n\n\"Well, my host, we shall see in the future,\" said Ulysses, in so\nsignificant a tone that the swineherd was startled for a moment.\n\nThe wind had arisen and it was a black stormy night so they went to\nrest early, and Eum\u00e6us slept soundly till dawn. But all through the\nsilent hours the brain of Ulysses worked like a shuttle in a loom.\n\nAt breakfast-time, while the swineherd was preparing the meal, the\ndogs began to bark loudly outside, but in a welcome manner, saluting\none whom they knew.\n\nFootsteps were heard crossing the yard, and a tall young man with the\nfirst down of manhood on his lip stood in the doorway.\n\nEum\u00e6us dropped the bowls in which he had been mixing the wine with a\nsudden clatter and ran towards the stranger.\n\n\"My young lord,\" he cried, \"oh, my young lord, the sight of you is a\nwelcome one to weary eyes. Come within my poor place. This is but a\npoor old man who shelters with me for a day or two. Don't mind him, my\nlord.\"\n\nIt was Telemachus the son of Ulysses.\n\nThe king rose humbly and offered his seat to his son.\n\n\"Keep your place, old man,\" said the prince. \"The swineherd will find\nme another. And who may you be, and what do you in Ithaca?\"\n\nThen Ulysses told him a long story. He said that he was a Cretan, and\nhad fought at Troy and was now destitute and a wanderer.\n\n\"Could you not take him to the palace, my lord?\" said Eum\u00e6us.\n\"Perhaps he might find some work there.\"\n\n\"I will clothe him, and arm him with a sword, and give him a little to\nhelp him on his way,\" said Telemachus, \"and that most gladly. But I\ncannot take him to the palace. The suitors would ill-use him because\nof his age, perhaps they would kill him for sport. I cannot restrain\nthem; I am young; and what is one against so many? Moreover, so great\nis the hate they bear towards me, they would surely slay any guest of\nmine.\"\n\nThen Ulysses rose from his seat and bowed. \"Lord,\" he said, \"if I may\ndare to speak and you will hear, I say foul wrong is wrought against\nyou in your palace, and my blood rages when I think of it.\"\n\n\"Old fellow, you are right enough,\" said the boy, sadly. \"Oh, for my\ndead sire! to sweep these dogs from Ithaca!\"\n\n\"Yes, the king!\" said Eum\u00e6us, with a deep sigh.\n\nSuddenly Ulysses saw the tall figure of Athene was standing by his\nside.\n\nThe other two were looking towards him, but could see nothing of her\npresence. The goddess looked at him with kindly eyes and touched him\nwith her spear.\n\nTelemachus and Eum\u00e6us crouched trembling and speechless against the\nfurthest side of the hut.\n\nThe bronze came back to the face of the king, his hair fell from his\nhead in all its old luxuriance, his figure filled out, and he stood\nbefore them in his full stature and all the glory of his manhood.\n\nEum\u00e6us fell upon his knees and covered his eyes with his hand.\n\n\"A god! a god!\" he cried, \"a god has come to us! Hail, oh Immortal\nOne, guest of my poor homestead!\"\n\nTelemachus knelt also. \"Oh, Divine stranger, a boon! Tell me of my\ndear father, if indeed he lives and knows of the peril of his house.\nAnd will he ever come back to sit in his own chair and rule?\"\n\nThen Ulysses stepped to his son and caught him in his arms and kissed\nhim.\n\n\"Telemachus! Telemachus!\" he said, \"no god am I, but your own dear\nfather come home at last, and I am come with doom and death for the\ninsolent ones about my board!\"\n\nAnd when they had all three mingled their happy tears, Telemachus\nsaid, \"Father, I know how great a warrior you are, and all the world\nrings with the wisdom and valour of your deeds. But we two can never\nfight against so many. In all, the princes number a hundred and a\nscore of men; and they are all trained fighting men, the best from\nIthaca and all the neighbouring islands. We must have other aid.\"\n\n\"Comfort yourself, son,\" said Ulysses. \"Aid we have, and the mightiest\nof all. Athene herself watches over my fortunes and will come in the\nhour of need. She has brought me hither and given me this disguise,\nand in all the coming contest her voice will help and her arm be for\nus. Should we need more aid than that?\"\n\n\"Truly, my father,\" said the boy, \"we are well favoured, and my heart\nleaps within me at what is to come.\"\n\nAs he finished speaking, once more the manhood of Ulysses left him and\nonly a poor old beggar man stood before the swineherd and the prince.\n\n\"Now will we go to the palace,\" said Ulysses. \"I shall seem but a poor\nold beggar man, and however the princes may ill-use me I shall do\nnothing till the time has come and we are ready, and I charge you, my\nson, and my good friend Eum\u00e6us, that you do nothing to protect me\nhowever I am treated. You may check them by words if you can, but no\nmore. And not even the queen herself must know that the king has come\nhome again.\n\n\"And now let us go. The judge is set, the doom begun; none shall stay\nit!\"\n\nAnd the three went out from the hut over the mountain paths towards\nthe palace.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe revel was at its height in the courtyard of the palace. Stone\nseats ran round the wall which enclosed the buildings. Over a low\ncolonnade the orchard trees drooped into the court, and a huge vine\ntrailed its weight of fruit over the marble.\n\nThe hot afternoon sun sent a vivid colour over everything. Beyond the\npalace the blue mountains towered into a sky of deeper blue. Purple\nshadows from the buildings lay upon the white marble, and the long\nlight glittered on a great table piled with golden cups and bowls,\nholding the _d\u00e9bris_ of the feast.\n\nA wild uproar and shouting filled the air.\n\nThe court was filled with whirling figures of men and girls half drunk\nwith wine and excitement as they moved in the figures of a lascivious\ndance.\n\nAll the household girls were there with the suitors joining in the\nfeast, and peals of laughter shivered through the sunny air.\n\nTelemachus sat on a seat apart watching the revel with keen eyes.\nThere was a repressed excitement in his face and an eager regard. One\nof the girls noticed it as she strolled past. She was a slight, fair\nwanton creature with a mocking smile.\n\n\"How, Lord Telemachus?\" she said, laughing lightly, \"are you not going\nto join us in the fun? You make a sorry host indeed! Is not this your\npalace, and do you leave us without your countenance. Oh, shame upon\nyou for a laggard youth when wine and kisses wait you.\"\n\nShe made an impudent grimace at him and flitted past. But a short time\nback he would have raged at this impudent salutation from a pretty\nslave girl who drew a confident strength from the protection of his\nenemies. But now he hardly heard her, but leant forward again in the\nattitude of one who watches and waits.\n\nOutside the palace gate, on the hot white road, two old men were\napproaching. One was the swineherd Eum\u00e6us and the other a wandering\nbeggar man.\n\nJust by the threshold of the courtyard an old lean dog, very grey and\nfeeble, lay upon a heap of dung in the sunlight. The mailed\nhorse-flies hovered round him in swarms, but he seemed too weak to\ndrive them away. As the beggar approached he threw his muzzle up into\nthe air with a quick movement. His sightless eyes turned towards the\nadvancing footsteps. With a great effort he scrambled to his feet. The\nlean tail wagged in tremulous joy, the scarred ears were pricked in\nwelcome.\n\nHe stumbled to the feet of Ulysses. When he touched him the old dog\nlay down in the dust and with a long sigh he died.\n\nAnd this was the first welcome the king had to his palace, and as he\nwent in through the gates his eyes were wet with tears.\n\nWhen Telemachus saw the steward he beckoned him to the table and sat\nbeside him while he ate. But Ulysses crouched down by the threshold.\nTelemachus gave bread and meat to the swineherd.\n\n\"Go, Eum\u00e6us,\" he said aloud, \"give these broken meats to that poor old\nbeggar man by the gate, and tell him from me that if he lacks he\nshould be bold and go to the princes and ask them for alms. By Zeus!\nhe will never grow fat if he crouches by the door there!\"\n\nUlysses took the food with a low bow and packed it away in his\nwallet.\n\nHe rose up grasping his staff, and went tottering among the suitors.\nHis lean arms and furrowed, wrinkled face were so piteous, his whining\nappeal full of such misery, that many of the princes tossed him\nsomething.\n\nAt the head of the table a tall and splendid young man was sitting. He\nwas richly dressed in a showy, ostentatious manner. His florid,\nhandsome face wore a perpetual and evil sneer. His grey eyes were\nill-tempered and quarrelsome.\n\n\"By the gods, my friends,\" he cried, with a sneer, \"how tender-hearted\nand compassionate you are grown! With what lavishness do you bestow\nthe wealth of Ulysses, or rather of the queen, upon this old\nscarecrow. Such old beasts are no use in this world. Get you gone, you\nold dog!\"\n\nWith that he hurled a three-legged stool at Ulysses. The stool struck\nhim a heavy blow on his side.\n\nFor a moment the black turmoil in the hero's heart was almost\nirrepressible. But with an enormous effort of will he overcame it. He\nstood quite still, with his head sunk upon his breast in humility.\n\nNow came the girls from out of the house carrying great jars of fresh\nwine, and copper bowls of water for the mixing, which they put upon\nthe table.\n\nHere was better sport than an old beggar and his woes, and Ulysses\nmoved aside and was forgotten.\n\nBut one of the girls touched him on the shoulder. \"Wanderer,\" said\nshe, \"the Queen Penelope has seen how Antinous used you from her room\nwithin the hall, and she sends me to summon you to her, for she would\nspeak to you.\"\n\nThen, with beating heart and footsteps which trembled with no\nsimulated age, the king followed the girl over the threshold of his\nown palace.\n\nAs he was walking towards the chamber of the queen an old woman came\ntowards them, a very old woman with a lined brown face and little,\nbrilliant twinkling eyes.\n\n\"Poor old man,\" she said, \"it is a shame that they should use your\ngrey hairs so, and abuse the hospitality which is the sacred right of\nstrangers. My lady Penelope sends me to you, and bids me wash your\nfeet in this bowl of water, so that we may purge our house of the\nstain the prince without has cast upon it. Sit on this stool and I\nwill lave ye.\"\n\nSo the old nurse Euryclea bathed the feet of her master whom she had\ndandled in her arms as a child. Suddenly Ulysses made as though he\nwould draw away his foot. He remembered that on his leg he bore a\nstrange-shaped scar made by a savage boar when he was a boy, and he\nfeared the wise old woman would know him by that mark.\n\nBut as she passed her hand along his ankle she touched the mark and\nturned his foot towards the light and saw it. She dropped his foot\nquickly, and the basin was overturned and the water ran away over the\nmarble floor. She looked up into the king's face and knew him for all\nhis disguise.\n\nIn a fierce, hurried whisper he bade her be silent for her life and\nhis and the queen's safety. As she vowed, trembling, by Zeus and the\ngods, to do his bidding, a trumpet snarled suddenly outside on the\nsteps of the palace.\n\nThe riot without died into silence.\n\nThe clear cold voice of a herald began to speak.\n\nThus says the Queen Penelope: \"To-morrow will I make an end of all. In\nthe forenoon I will choose from among the princes whom I will wed. Too\nlong have ye rioted within the palace and eaten up the substance of\nmyself and my son. I am aweary. And since there is no other way,\nto-morrow I will choose. Ye shall take the great bow of the King\nUlysses from its cover. And he who can shoot an arrow through twelve\naxes in a row--even as Ulysses was wont to do--him will I wed.\"\n\n\"Nurse!\" whispered Ulysses, \"the king will be here before any can bend\nthat bow. Now go into the queen and tell her that the old man is sick\nand begs leave to wait upon her another time. And comfort her with an\nomen that you have seen, but tell her nothing. And now farewell. There\nis much to do ere dawn.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThere was a silence of consternation in the great banqueting hall of\nthe palace.\n\nPenelope from her seat upon the raised steps beneath the\nrichly-decorated wall at the end smiled faintly to herself.\n\nThe twelve axes stood in a row, driven into sockets in the pavement.\nThe suitors stood in two long rows on either side.\n\nAntinous, the strongest of them all, held a great polished bow. His\nface blazed with anger and was red with shame.\n\nAll eyes were centred on him. No one saw old Eum\u00e6us steal out into the\nporch and silently lower the heavy bars of the door and lash them\ntight with cords.\n\n\"Ah!\" cried Antinous, \"I know now why neither any of you nor I myself\ncan bend this bow. It is not the great strength of Ulysses, for I am\nstronger than he ever was. This is Apollo's festival, the Archer-God,\nand it is useless to strive to bend this bow to-day. Let us sacrifice\nto Helios to-day, and then to-morrow come again to the trial.\"\n\nThen the old beggar man came forward.\n\n\"My lords,\" he said, \"I pray you give me the bow, since you have done\nyour trial for to-day. I was once strong in my youth. Let me have this\nhonour.\"\n\nAntinous scowled at him, and stepped toward him to strike such\ninsolence, but the clear voice of Penelope called sharply down the\nlane of men,--\n\n\"Who insults even the meanest in my palace? Have more regard, sir, for\nI am still queen here. Give the old man the bow since that is his\nwhim.\"\n\nAntinous was cowed, but still murmured, when Telemachus stepped\nquickly up to him. The boy seemed taller, his eyes shone with a cold,\nfierce light they had never seen in them before. His voice rang with a\nnew authority.\n\n\"Be silent, sir!\" he said in a keen, threatening voice. \"The bow is\nmine, and mine alone, to give or refuse as I decide. Mother, the trial\nis over for to-day. Go with your maidens into your own chamber. I will\nsee to this old man, and I am master here and will be so.\"\n\nWith a frightened pride and wonder the queen withdrew.\n\nThe suitors began to whisper to each other, wondering what this might\nmean. Their confidence seemed to be slipping away from them. Each and\nall felt uneasy. There was some strange influence in the air which\nsapped their courage and silenced the loud insolent words which were\never on their lips.\n\nThe shadow of death was creeping into the hall.\n\nThe great marble room suddenly grew cold. The old beggar came up to\nthe splendid Antinous and took the bow from his unresisting hand.\n\nAs he plucked the string the gods spake at last. A crash of thunder\npealed among them. There was a moment's silence, and then the\nbow-string rang beneath the hero's touch as clear as the note of a\nswallow.\n\nAnd in a strange light, which glowed out from the walls and great\npillars of bronze, the princes saw no beggar, but a noble form with\nbronzed face and flashing eyes, and they knew the king had come home\nagain.\n\nUlysses motioned to his son, and Telemachus drew his sword and with a\ngreat shout rushed up the hall after his father.\n\nThey turned and stood on the steps.\n\nAn arrow sang like a flying wasp, and Antinous lay dying on the floor.\n\nThen the princes rushed to the walls where their armour and swords\nwere wont to hang, but all the pegs were bare.\n\nOnly above the steps where Ulysses stood were three spears and three\nshields, and as they gazed in cold fear Eum\u00e6us leapt upon the steps\nand the three girded on the armour.\n\nAgain the great bow sang, and Amphinomus lay dead.\n\nThen Telemachus with a great shout drove his spear through the fat\nCtessipus, and he fell gurgling his life away.\n\nBut one of the suitors, Melanthius, climbed up a pillar through one of\nthe lanterns of the hall and clambered over the roofs to the armoury\nunseen by Ulysses.\n\nAnd while the deadly arrows sped with bitter mocking words towards the\ncowering throng, he gathered a great sheaf of spears and flung them\ndown among his comrades.\n\nThey seized upon the spears with a fierce cry of joy, and Ulysses'\nheart failed him where he stood for there were still many living.\n\nThey began to run up the hall towards the steps.\n\nThen at last Athene saw that her time had come, and she lifted her\nterrible war shield which brings death to the sons of men.\n\nAnd the flight of spears all went far wide of the mark, and some fell\nwith a rattle upon the floor.\n\nWith one cry of triumph the king leapt like light among the crowd.\nHither and there flashed the three swords like swooping vultures, and\nAthene took all power from the princes, and one by one they screamed\nand met their doom.\n\nAnd soon the din of battle died away, and save for a faint moaning the\nhall was silent.\n\nAnd the princes, the pride of the islands, lay fallen in dust and\nblood, heaped one on the other, like a great catch of fishes turned\nout from a fisherman's nets upon the shore.\n\nEum\u00e6us went to the door of the hall and cut the lashings, and raised\nthe bars so that the sunlight came slanting in great beams. The dust\ndanced in the light rays like a powder of tiny lives.\n\nThen Ulysses called the servants and bade them carry the bodies away.\nAnd he ordered Euryclea to wash the blood-stained floors, and to bring\nsulphur and torches that the place might be purified.\n\nAnd that night great beacons flared on the hills, and far out to sea\nthe fishermen saw them and said, \"Surely the king has come home\nagain.\"\n\nAnd while the music rang though the lighted palace and the people\npassed before the gates shouting for joy, old Euryclea spread the\nmarriage bed of the king by the light of flaming torches.\n\nAnd when all was prepared, the old nurse went to Ulysses and Penelope\nand led them to the door of the marriage chamber, as she had led them\ntwenty years before.\n\nThen the music ceased in the palace halls and silence fell over all\nthe house.\n\n\n\n\nA NOTE ON HOMER AND ULYSSES\n\n\nThe uncertainty which prevails as to the actual birthplace of Homer\nalso extends to the exact period at which he flourished. Doubts have\nbeen expressed by some modern scholars as to whether the poet ever\nexisted as a personality. The view that the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_ were\nnot the work of an individual, but merely a collection of old folklore\nverse welded into a whole by many hands, made compact by ages, a\nself-born epic rising from crystallised tradition, is, however, not a\ntenable one, and need not be discussed here.\n\nAs far as we are able to place the poet in his period correctly, we\ncan say with some certainty that he flourished at a time between 800\nand 900 years before the birth of Christ.\n\nThe Arundelian marbles fix his era at 907 years before the dawn of\nChristianity. About the life of the most ancient of all poets nothing\nwhatever is known. There is a tradition that he had a school of\nfollowers in the Island of Chios, and we have early records of\ncelebrations held there in his honour every few years. But no proof\nwhatever exists of the truth of the supposition, though up to quite\nmodern times the islanders maintained and believed in it.\n\nIn the same way must be treated the story of Homer's blindness. It is\na legend which cannot be proved or disproved. Yet at a time when\nliterature must have been almost purely oral, his blindness need have\nbeen no bar to the exercise of his talent. It has been said, and the\ntheory is at least an interesting one, that the music and sonance of\nHomer's lines came from the fact that they were composed to be\n_spoken_ rather than _read_. That the blindness of Milton did not in\nany way detract from the grandeur of his verse is an undoubted fact,\nand yet Milton had to _speak_ every line before he could have it\nrecorded by others.\n\nWe can deduce something of Homer from his work. That he must have been\na travelled man seems indubitable. To this day the modern Ulysses or\nMenelaus, standing on the bridge of his tramp steamer, can see the\nheadlands, islands, and capes, unchanged from 3000 years ago. That\nHomer was a man of deep feeling, was possessed of the \"artistic\ntemperament\" in a very marked degree, seems equally clear. Nothing can\nbe more delicate and touching than his handling of Penelope. Other\nancient writers have represented the wife of Ulysses as an abandoned\nharlot, and said that her husband repudiated her for incontinence\nduring his absence. Homer, with a far surer, finer touch, made her a\nmodel for wives to emulate and husbands to desire. The whole of the\nhome-coming scenes in the _Odyssey_ could only have been written by a\nman who was no mere materialist.\n\nWhen Homer wrote, human nature was much less profound a thing than it\nhas since become. And yet, though men's motives were entirely\ndifferent, men's actions sprang from less subtle causes than now.\nHomer was a psychologist of the first class. He knew his fellow-men.\nIn all Romance no one can point to a finer and more consistent\ncharacter-study than that of Ulysses. Shakespeare has drawn no more\nvivid picture of a single temperament. Homer must have mixed with\nmankind, observed them closely, been an acute and untiring observer.\n\nThe absolutely original temper of his mind is extraordinary. For we\nmust remember that Homer could hardly have had any models to inform\nhis choice of subjects or direct his style. Yet none of his\nimitators, and there have been many, were able, even in their\nhappiest moments, even to approach him. As he was the first poet, so\nhe was the greatest, and we may well conclude he will remain so until\nmen themselves are things of the past.\n\nIn the ancient world, when we get into the actual periods of recorded\nhistory, we find a worship of Homer universally existing. His works\nreposed under the pillow of Alexander together with the sword which\nhad made him great. The conqueror enshrined the _Iliad_ in the richest\ncasket of the vanquished Persian king. Altars smoked in Homer's honour\nall over Greece, he was venerated as a god. But speculations about\nHomer have, after all, but little value. We know nothing, and we shall\nnever now know anything about him.\n\nHe remains a glorious and mysterious fact. We have the priceless\nlegacy of this Being, and that is enough.\n\n\nULYSSES\n\nEven Euclid, the inventor of concrete logical processes, is forced to\nbegin with axioms and definitions that are absurd. Once allow them,\nand everything proceeds to a brilliant triumph of mentality; but in\norder to build a basis in a vacuum, one has to swallow a dose of\nnonsense first.\n\nIt must be confessed that in order to estimate the character-drawing\nemployed by Homer to create Ulysses, we must swallow the supernatural\ninfluences which surrounded him. Put them out of the question and the\nhero lacks perspective and becomes a doll. Let it be granted that\nMinerva stood beside the wanderer. \"Her clear and bared limbs\no'erthwarted with the brazen-headed spear.\" Let us but believe with\nHomer that the careless Gods lie beside their nectar on the hill, and\nhurl their bolts far below into the valleys of men, then the man\nUlysses shines out clear and full of colour, an absolute achievement\nin Art.\n\nAn ancient Norse pick-axe has been discovered, bearing the following\ninscription:--\n\n    \"_Either I will find a way or make one_,\"\n\nand a broken helmet was once found in Battle Abbey, engraved with this\ncrest:--\n\n    \"_L'espoir est ma force._\"\n\nThe Master Mariner might have owned them both. The first quality which\nwe marvel at in our analysis of Ulysses' character is the\nextraordinary _resource_ which he displays throughout all his\nwanderings. His qualities of passive endurance, his enormous courage,\nhis mental agility--the very cream of cunning, are all component parts\nof his unfailing readiness to take sudden advantage of his\nopportunity. For him all tides were at flood to lead on to fortune.\n\nCharybdis sucks down his stout ship into the womb of the sea, he makes\na raft of the restored keel.\n\nHe estimates the brain power of the stupid Cyclops at its exact value,\nand escapes the vengeance of his companions by a pun. And there is a\nwell-defined touch of fatalism in Ulysses also. When the irreparable\nblunder has been committed by his sailors, and Apollo's sacred beeves\nare smoking on the spit, he knows that he and all his men must pay\nheavily for their disregard of Circe's warning. It is inevitable.\nNothing can turn aside the coming anger of the Sun-God. So Ulysses,\nbeing hungry, though innocent of the initial sacrilege, makes his\nunhallowed meal with the rest. He must endure the pain, so plucks the\npelf also. To enlarge upon his courage and endurance were unnecessary.\nThe _Odyssey_ is one long p\u00e6an of them both. His sagacity is manifest\nso vividly in all his actions that even Zeus, father of Heaven, says\nto Athene, \"_No, daughter, I could never forget Ulysses, the wisest\nworldling of them all_.\" But what of Ulysses as a Sybarite? The hero\n\"Mulierose,\" to borrow from the _Cloister and the Hearth_, the lover\nof ladies, \"propt on beds of amaranth and moly,\" while white enchanted\narms hold him a willing captive? I have heard it remarked that here\nthe Ionian father of poets has gone astray. People have said to me\nthat Ulysses loved his wife too well to dwell contented on the spicy\ndowns of Lotos Land, that he was too taut and hardy a man. But Homer\ndid not err in his study of temperament.\n\nHow can one judge the man of 3000 years ago by the standards of\nto-day? In the ages when hosts joined in battle for the fair body of\nHelen men looked on women with other eyes than ours. Heaven and hell\nwere very material places, pleasure was a very material, tangible,\nunderstandable thing and a lovely woman a gift from the Gods.\n\nUlysses strove for Ithaca through storm and wrack, and when Fortune\nsent him to Calypso, or beached his ship on Circe's fairy isle, he was\ncontent to rest a little while. He yielded, like others of the wise.\nSocrates studied under Aspasia, and Aspasia ruled the world under the\nname of Pericles.\n\nIt is in trying to fit the temperament of an ancient to a modern that\nthe majority of people must always fail to understand a great piece of\ncontemporary literature. One may sift the instances of modern\ntemperament and comment on them, but one should not try to mould the\nresidue into a like form. The Bible story paints King David, for\nexample, as a truculent, bloodthirsty, canting monster--a complete\nportrait. The immorality and stupidity lies in trying to reconcile his\nOld Testament enormities with the revelations of the New.\n\nSo with Ulysses, Circe, Calypso, Nausicaa, and even in later years the\nlegendary Erippe, all fall truly, artistically and naturally into the\nmosaic of the hero's life.\n\nOne interesting point in the pleasure-loving side of Ulysses' nature\nshould by no means be disregarded. Not only did he take eagerly such\njoys as the Fates apportioned, but he was a true and discriminating\nSybarite.\n\nWe find him taking stringent precautions against disaster from the\nSirens, yet determined to enjoy the luxury of their song. It is a\npleasure not to be missed and not to be paid for. In after years we\nmay imagine him relating his unique and delicious experience to his\nfriends with an undoubted complacency.\n\nIn the commendable and ancient virtues of filial love, a cardinal\nvirtue in the old world, a forgotten duty to-day, Ulysses was\nsingularly strong. His tenderest inquiries in Hades, the most\npassionate expressions of affection, are protested to the shade of\nAnticlea, his mother. One of the most touching scenes in the _Odyssey_\nis the meeting between Ulysses and Laertes, his father, after the long\nwanderings are over. \"_He flung his arms around his father and cried\nout, 'Oh, my father, I am here indeed once more. I have come back to\nyou at last! Dry your tears, for mine is the victory.'_\"\n\nA many-sided man. Hard as a diamond and as bright, with every facet in\nhis many-sided nature cut and polished by the hand of a master.\n\n                                                    C. R. G.\n\n\nTHE END\n\n_Colston & Coy, Limited, Printers, Edinburgh_\n\n\n\n\n    _ADVERTISEMENT_\n\n\n    BY SPECIAL APPOINTMENT\n\n    [Decoration]\n\n    TO HIS MAJESTY THE KING\n\n\n    W. CLARKSON\n\n    THEATRICAL COSTUMIER AND PERRUQUIER\n\n    WIGS, COSTUMES, MASKS, LIMELIGHT\n    SCENERY AND PROPERTIES\n\n    Amateur Theatricals and Tableaux Vivants attended in\n    town or country on most reasonable terms\n\n    Thoroughly competent men sent with every\n    Requisite\n\n    [Decoration]\n\n    [Decoration] Clarkson's Lillie Powder [Decoration]\n\n    In Three Shades--BLANCHE, NATURELLE, RACHEL\n    1s. per box; 1s. 3d. post free\n\n    Used by Mrs Langtry and all the leading\n    ladies of the theatrical profession\n\n    [Decoration]\n\n    W. CLARKSON\n    45 & 44 WELLINGTON ST., STRAND\n    [Decoration] LONDON, W.C.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note\n\nThe author's surname is hyphenated throughout this book, although the\nLibrary of Congress lists his name without the hyphen.\n\nThe author varies slightly from _The Odyssey_ in places--for instance,\nthe number of years Ulysses remains with Calypso. These variations are\npreserved as written.\n\nThere is no page number reference on the illustration facing page 83.\n\nThe author uses some variant spelling which is preserved as printed.\nThis includes Phoeacians, Vergil, Melesegenes, dogrells, both Gr\u00e6cian\nand Grecian, and both lotos and lotus. These latter two variations\nappear in different sections of the book, so may well be deliberate on\nthe part of the author.\n\nMinor punctuation errors have been repaired. The following amendments\nhave also been made:\n\n    Page 10--discrimena amended to discrimina--Per varios casus\n    per tot discrimina rerum ...\n\n    Page 32--smiled amended to smile--A cruel smile played on his\n    face.\n\n    Page 74--ago years amended to years ago--It was nine years ago\n    that the pale gaunt waif of the sea ...\n\n    Page 94--iufluence amended to influence--There was some\n    strange influence in the air ...\n\nThe frontispiece illustration has been moved to follow the title page.\nOther illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are\nnot in the middle of a paragraph.","title":"The Adventures of Ulysses the Wanderer","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":23566}