Classic Poem

The much-sustaining, patient, heavenly Man,
Whom Toile and Sleepe had worne so weake and wan,
Thus wonne his rest. In meane space Pallas went
To the Phaeacian citie and descent
That first did broad Hyperia's lands divide
Neare the vast Cyclops, men of monstrous pride,
That preyd on those Hyperians since they were
Of greater powre; and therefore longer there
Divine Nausithous dwelt not, but arose,
And did for Scheria all his powres dispose,
Farre from ingenious Art-inventing men.
But there did he erect a Citie then.
First, drew a wall round; then he houses builds,
And then a Temple to the Gods, the fields
Lastly dividing. But he (stoopt by Fate)
Div'd to th'infernals, and Alcinous sate
In his command, a man the Gods did teach
Commanding counsels. His house held the reach
Of grey Minerva's project, to provide
That great-sould Ithacus might be supplide
With all things fitting his returne. She went
Up to the chamber, where the faire descent
Of great Alcinous slept — a maid whose parts
In wit and beautie wore divine deserts.
Well deckt her chamber was: of which the dore
Did seeme to lighten, such a glosse it bore
Betwixt the posts, and now flew ope to find
The Goddesse entrie. Like a puft of wind
She reacht the Virgin bed, neare which there lay
Two maids to whom the Graces did convay
Figure and manners. But above the head
Of bright Nausicaa did Pallas tred
The subtle aire, and put the person on
Of Dymas' daughter, from comparison
Exempt in businesse Navall. Like his seed
Minerva lookt now, whom one yeare did breed
With bright Nausicaa, and who had gaind
Grace in her love, yet on her thus complaind:
" Nausicaa! why bred thy mother one
So negligent in rites so stood upon
By other virgins? Thy faire garments lie
Neglected by thee, yet thy Nuptials nie —
When rich in all attire both thou shouldst, be,
And garments give to others honoring thee,
That leade thee to the Temple. Thy good name
Growes amongst men for these things; they enflame
Father and reverend Mother with delight.
Come, when the Day takes any winke from Night,
Let's to the river and repurifie
Thy wedding garments: my societie
Shall freely serve thee for thy speedier aid,
Because thou shalt no more stand on the Maid.
The best of all Phaeacia wooe thy Grace
Where thou wert bred, and ow'st thy selfe a race.
Up, and stirre up to thee thy honourd Sire
To give thee Mules and Coach, thee and thy tire,
Veiles, girdles, mantles, early to the flood
To beare in state. It suites thy high-borne blood,
And farre more fits thee than to foote so farre,
For far from towne thou knowst the Bath-founts are."
This said, away blue-eyd Minerva went
Up to Olympus, the firme Continent
That beares in endlesse being the deified kind,
That's neither souc't with showres, nor shooke with wind,
Nor chilld with snow, but where Serenitie flies
Exempt from clouds; and ever-beamie skies
Circle the glittering hill, and all their daies
Give the delights of blessed Deitie praise.
And hither Pallas flew, and left the Maid
When she had all that might excite her said.
Strait rose the lovely Morne, that up did raise
Faire-veild Nausicaa, whose dreame her praise
To Admiration tooke. Who no time spent
To give the rapture of her vision vent
To her lov'd parents, whom she found within,
Her mother set at fire, who had to spin
A Rocke, whose tincture with sea-purple shin'd,
Her maids about her. But she chanc't to find
Her Father going abroad, to Counsell calld
By his grave Senate. And to him exhald
Her smotherd bosome was. " Lov'd Sire," said she,
" Will you not now command a Coach for me,
Stately and complete, fit for me to beare
To wash at flood the weeds I cannot weare
Before repurified? Your selfe it fits
To weare faire weeds, as every man that sits
In place of counsell. And five sonnes you have,
Two wed, three Bachelors, that must be brave
In every daye's shift, that they may go dance;
For these three last with these things must advance
Their states in mariage — and who else but I,
Their sister, should their dancing rites supply?"
This generall cause she shewd, and would not name
Her mind of Nuptials to her Sire, for shame.
He understood her yet, and thus replide:
" Daughter! nor these, nor any grace beside,
I either will denie thee or deferre,
Mules, nor a Coach, of state and circular,
Fitting at all parts. Go; my servants shall
Serve thy desires and thy command in all."
The servants then (commanded) soone obaid,
Fetcht Coach, and Mules joynd in it. Then the Maid
Brought from the chamber her rich weeds and laid
All up in Coach, in which her mother plac't
A maund of victles varied well in taste,
And other junkets. Wine she likewise filld
Within a goat-skin bottle, and distilld
Sweete and moist oile into a golden Cruse
Both for her daughter's and her handmaids' use,
To soften their bright bodies when they rose
Clensed from their cold baths. Up to Coach then goes
Th'observed Maid, takes both the scourge and raines,
And to her side her handmaid strait attaines.
Nor these alone, but other virgins grac't
The Nuptiall Chariot. The whole Bevie plac't,
Nausicaa scourgd to make the Coach Mules runne,
That neigh'd, and pac'd their usuall speed, and soone
Both maids and weeds brought to the river side
Where Baths for all the yeare their use supplide —
Whose waters were so pure they would not staine,
But still ran faire forth, and did more remaine
Apt to purge staines, for that purg'd staine within,
Which, by the water's pure store, was not seen.
These (here arriv'd) the Mules uncoacht, and drave
Up to the gulphie river's shore, that gave
Sweet grasse to them. The maids from Coach then tooke
Their cloaths and steept them in the sable brooke,
Then put them into springs, and trod them cleane
With cleanly feet, adventring wagers then
Who should have soonest and most cleanly done —
When, having throughly cleansd, they spred them on
The flood's shore all in order. And then, where
The waves the pibbles washt and ground was cleare
They bath'd themselves, and all with glittring oile
Smooth'd their white skins, refreshing then their toile
With pleasant dinner by the river's side —
Yet still watcht when the Sunne their cloaths had dride.
Till which time (having din'd) Nausicaa
With other virgins did at stool-ball play,
Their shoulder-reaching head-tires laying by.
Nausicaa (with the wrists of Ivory)
The liking stroke strooke, singing first a song
(As custome orderd), and amidst the throng
Made such a shew, and so past all was seene,
As when the Chast-borne, Arrow-loving Queene,
Along the mountaines gliding, either over
Spartan Taygetus, whose tops farre discover,
Or Eurymanthus, in the wilde Bore's chace
Or swift-hov'd Hart, and with her Jove's faire race
(The field Nymphs) sporting — amongst whom, to see
How farre Diana had prioritie
(Though all were faire) for fairnesse, yet of all
(As both by head and forhead being more tall)
Latona triumpht, since the dullest sight
Might easly judge whom her paines brought to light:
Nausicaa so (whom never husband tam'd)
Above them all in all the beauties flam'd.
But when they now made homewards, and araid,
Ordring their weeds, disorderd as they plaid,
Mules and Coach ready, then Minerva thought
What meanes to wake Ulysses might be wrought
That he might see this lovely-sighted maid,
Whom she intended should become his aid,
Bring him to Towne, and his returne advance.
Her meane was this (though thought a stool-ball chance):
The Queene now (for the upstroke) strooke the ball
Quite wide off th'other maids, and made it fall
Amidst the whirlpooles. At which out shriekt all,
And with the shrieke did wise Ulysses wake,
Who, sitting up, was doubtfull who should make
That sodaine outcrie, and in mind thus striv'd:
" On what a people am I now arriv'd?
At civill hospitable men, that feare
The Gods? Or dwell injurious mortals here,
Unjust, and churlish? Like the female crie
Of youth it sounds. What are they? Nymphs bred hie
On tops of hils or in the founts of floods,
In herbie marshes, or in leavy woods?
Or are they high-spoke men I now am neare?
I'le prove, and see." With this the wary Peere
Crept forth the thicket, and an Olive bough
Broke with his broad hand, which he did bestow
In covert of his nakednesse, and then
Put hastie head out. Looke how from his den
A mountaine Lion lookes, that, all embrewd
With drops of trees and weather-beaten-hewd,
(Bold of his strength) goes on, and in his eye
A burning fornace glowes, all bent to prey
On sheepe, or oxen, or the upland Hart,
His belly charging him, and he must part
Stakes with the Heards-man in his beasts' attempt,
Even where from rape their strengths are most exempt:
So wet, so weather-beate, so stung with Need,
Even to the home-fields of the countrie's breed,
Ulysses was to force forth his accesse,
Though meerly naked; and his sight did presse
The eyes of soft-haird virgins. Horrid was
His rough appearance to them: the hard passe
He had at sea stucke by him. All in flight
The Virgins scatterd, frighted with this sight,
About the prominent windings of the flood.
All but Nausicaa fled; but she fast stood:
Pallas had put a boldnesse in her brest
And in her faire lims tender Feare comprest.
And still she stood him, as resolv'd to know
What man he was, or out of what should grow
His strange repaire to them. And here was he
Put to his wisedome, if her virgin knee
He should be bold, but kneeling, to embrace,
Or keepe aloofe and trie with words of grace,
In humblest suppliance, if he might obtaine
Some cover for his nakednes, and gaine
Her grace to shew and guide him to the Towne.
The last he best thought to be worth his owne,
In weighing both well: to keepe still aloofe,
And give with soft words his desires their proofe,
Lest pressing so neare as to touch her knee
He might incense her maiden modestie.
This faire and fil'd speech then shewd this was he:
" Let me beseech, O Queene, this truth of thee:
Are you of mortall or the deified race?
If of the Gods that th'ample heavens embrace,
I can resemble you to none above
So neare as to the chast-borne birth of Jove,
The beamie Cynthia. Her you full present
In grace of every God-like lineament —
Her goodly magnitude, and all th'addresse
You promise of her very perfectnesse.
If sprong of humanes that inhabite earth,
Thrice blest are both the authors of your birth,
Trice blest your brothers that in your deserts
Must, even to rapture, beare delighted hearts,
To see so like the first trim of a tree
Your forme adorne a dance. But most blest he
Of all that breathe that hath the gift t'engage
Your bright necke in the yoke of mariage,
And decke his house with your commanding merit.
I have not seene a man of so much spirit.
Nor man nor woman I did ever see
At all parts equall to the parts in thee.
T'enjoy your sight doth Admiration seise
My eie and apprehensive faculties.
Lately in Delos (with a charge of men
Arriv'd, that renderd me most wretched then,
Now making me thus naked) I beheld
The burthen of a Palme, whose issue sweld
About Apollo's Phane; and that put on
A grace like thee, for Earth had never none
Of all her Sylvane issue so adorn'd.
Into amaze my very soule was turnd
To give it observation, as now thee
To view, O Virgin, a stupiditie
Past admiration strikes me, joynd with feare
To do a suppliant's due and prease so neare
As to embrace thy knees. Nor is it strange;
For one of fresh and firmest spirit would change
T'embrace so bright an object. But, for me,
A cruell habite of calamitie
Prepar'd the strong impression thou hast made;
For this last Day did flie Night's twentith shade
Since I, at length, escapt the sable seas,
When in the meane time th'unrelenting prease
Of waves and sterne stormes tost me up and downe,
From th'Ile Ogygia: and now God hath throwne
My wracke on this shore, that perhaps I may
My miseries vary here — for yet their stay,
I feare, heaven hath not orderd, though before
These late afflictions it hath lent me store.
O Queene, daine pitie then, since first to you
My Fate importunes my distresse to vow.
No other Dame, nor man, that this Earth owne,
And neighbour Citie, I have seene or knowne.
The Towne then shew me; give my nakednes
Some shroud to shelter it, if to these seas
Linnen or woollen you have brought to clense.
God give you, in requitall, all th'amends
Your heart can wish: a husband, family,
And good agreement. Nought beneath the skie
More sweet, more worthy, is than firme consent
Of man and wife in houshold government.
It joyes their wishers well, their enemies wounds,
But to themselves the speciall good redounds."
She answerd: " Stranger! I discerne in thee
Nor Sloth nor Folly raignes; and yet I see
Th'art poore and wretched. In which I conclude
That Industry nor wisedome make endude
Men with those gifts that make them best to th'eie:
Jove onely orders man's felicitie.
To good and bad his pleasure fashions still
The whole proportion of their good and ill.
And he perhaps hath formd this plight in thee,
Of which thou must be patient, as he, free.
But after all thy wandrings, since thy way
Both to our Earth and neare our Citie lay,
As being exposde to our cares to relieve,
Weeds and what else a humane hand should give
To one so suppliant and tam'd with woe,
Thou shalt not want. Our Citie I will show,
And tell our people's name. This neighbor Towne
And all this kingdome the Phaeacians owne.
And (since thou seemdst so faine to know my birth,
And mad'st a question, if of heaven or earth)
This Earth hath bred me, and my Father's name
Alcinous is, that in the powre and frame
Of this Ile's rule is supereminent."
Thus (passing him) she to the Virgins went,
And said: " Give stay both to your feet and fright.
Why thus disperse ye for a man's meere sight?
Esteeme you him a Cyclop, that long since
Made use to prey upon our Citizens?
This man no moist man is (nor watrish thing,
That's ever flitting, ever ravishing
All it can compasse, and, like it, doth range
In rape of women, never staid in change).
This man is truly manly, wise, and staid,
In soule more rich the more to sense decaid,
Who nor will do, nor suffer to be done,
Acts leud and abject; nor can such a one
Greete the Phaeacians with a mind envious;
Deare to the Gods they are, and he is pious.
Besides, divided from the world we are,
The outpart of it, billowes circulare
The sea revolving round about our shore;
Nor is there any man that enters more
Than our owne countrimen with what is brought
From other countries. This man, minding nought
But his reliefe, a poore unhappie wretch,
Wrackt here, and hath no other land to fetch,
Him now we must provide for. From Jove come
All strangers, and the needie of a home,
Who any gift, though ne're so small it be,
Esteeme as great and take it gratefully.
And therefore, Virgins, give the stranger food
And wine, and see ye bath him in the flood,
Neare to some shore to shelter most enclin'd:
To cold Bath-bathers hurtfull is the wind —
Not onely rugged making th'outward skin,
But by his thin powres pierceth parts within."
This said, their flight in a returne they set,
And did Ulysses with all grace entreate,
Shewd him a shore, wind-proofe and full of shade,
By him a shirt and utter mantle laid,
A golden Jugge of liquid oile did adde,
Bad wash, and all things as Nausicaa bad.
Divine Ulysses would not use their aid,
But thus bespake them: " Every lovely maid,
Let me entreate to stand a litle by,
That I alone the fresh flood may apply
To clense my bosome of the sea-wrought brine,
And then use oile, which long time did not shine
On my poore shoulders. I'le not wash in sight
Of faire-haird maidens. I should blush outright
To bathe all bare by such a virgin light."
They mov'd, and musde a man had so much grace,
And told their Mistris what a man he was.
He clensd his broad soild shoulders, backe and head
Yet never tam'd. But now had fome and weed
Knit in the faire curles. Which dissolv'd, and he
Slickt all with sweet oile, the sweet charitie
The untoucht virgin shewd in his attire
He cloth'd him with. Then Pallas put a fire,
More than before, into his sparkling eies,
His late soile set off with his soone fresh guise.
His locks (clensd) curld the more, and matcht (in power
To please an eye) the Hyacinthian flower.
And as a workman that can well combine
Silver and gold, and make both strive to shine,
As being by Vulcan, and Minerva too,
Taught how farre either may be urg'd to go
In strife of eminence, when worke sets forth
A worthy soule to bodies of such worth,
No thought reproving th'act in any place,
Nor Art no debt to Nature's liveliest grace:
So Pallas wrought in him a grace as great
From head to shoulders, and ashore did seate
His goodly presence — to which such a guise
He shewd in going that it ravisht eies.
All which (continude) as he sate apart,
Nausicaa's eye strooke wonder through her heart,
Who thus bespake her consorts: " Heare me, you
Faire-wristed Virgins, this rare man (I know)
Treds not our country earth against the will
Of some God thron'd on the Olympian hill.
He shewd to me, till now, not worth the note,
But now he lookes as he had Godhead got.
I would to heaven my husband were no worse,
And would be calld no better, but the course
Of other husbands pleasd to dwell out here.
Observe and serve him with our utmost cheare."
She said; they heard, and did. He drunke and eate
Like to a Harpy, having toucht no meate
A long before time. But Nausicaa now
Thought of the more grace she did lately vow,
Had horse to Chariot joynd, and up she rose,
Up chear'd her guest, and said: " Guest, now dispose
Your selfe for Towne, that I may let you see
My Father's Court, where all the Peeres will be
Of our Phaeacian State. At all parts then
Observe to whom and what place y'are t'attain,
Though I need usher you with no advice,
Since I suppose you absolutely wise.
While we the fields passe and men's labours there,
So long (in these maids' guides) directly beare
Upon my Chariot (I must go before
For cause that after comes, to which this more
Be my induction) you shall then soone end
Your way to Towne, whose Towres you see ascend
To such a steepnesse. On whose either side
A faire Port stands, to which is nothing wide
An enterer's passage: on whose both hands ride
Ships in faire harbors; which, once past, you win
The goodly market place (that circles in
A Phane to Neptune, built of curious stone
And passing ample) where munition,
Gables, and masts men make, and polisht oares —
For the Phaeacians are not conquerors
By bowes nor quivers. Oares, masts, ships they are
With which they plow the sea and wage their warre.
And now the cause comes why I leade the way,
Not taking you to Coach. The men that sway
In worke of those tooles that so fit our State
Are rude Mechanicals, that rare and late
Worke in the market place, and those are they
Whose bitter tongues I shun; who strait would say,
(For these vile vulgars are extreamly proud
And fouly languag'd): " What, is he allowd
To coach it with Nausicaa? So large set,
And fairely fashiond? Where were these two met?
He shall be sure her husband. She hath bene
Gadding in some place, and (of forraine men
Fitting her fancie) kindly brought him home
In her owne ship. He must, of force, be come
From some farre region; we have no such man.
It may be (praying hard when her heart ran
On some wisht husband) out of heaven some God
Dropt in her lap, and there lies she at rode
Her complete life time. But, in sooth, if she
Ranging abroad a husband, such as he
Whom now we saw, laid hand on, she was wise,
For none of all our Nobles are of prise
Enough for her: he must beyond-sea come
That wins her high mind and will have her home.
Of our Peeres many have importun'd her,
Yet she will none. " Thus these folks will conferre
Behind my backe, or (meeting) to my face
The foule-mouth rout dare put home this disgrace.
And this would be reproches to my fame,
For even my selfe just anger would enflame
If any other virgin I should see
(Her parents living) keepe the companie
Of any man to any end of love,
Till open Nuptials should her act approve.
And therefore heare me, guest, and take such way
That you your selfe may compasse in your stay
Your quicke deduction by my Father's grace,
And meanes to reach the roote of all your race.
" We shall, not farre out of our way to Towne,
A never-felld Grove find that Poplars crowne,
To Pallas sacred, where a fountaine flowes,
And round about the Grove a Medow growes;
In which my Father holds a Mannor house
Deckt all with Orchards, greene and odorous,
As farre from Towne as one may heare a shout.
There stay and rest your foote paines, till full out
We reach the Citie — where when you may guesse
We are arriv'd and enter our accesse
Within my Father's Court, then put you on
For our Phaeacian State, where to be showne
My Father's house desire. Each infant there
Can bring you to it, and your selfe will cleare
Distinguish it from others, for no showes
The Citie buildings make compar'd with those
That King Alcinous' seate doth celebrate.
In whose roofs and the Court (where men of state
And suiters sit and stay) when you shall hide,
Strait passe it, entring further, where abide
My Mother, with her withdrawne houswiferies,
Who still sits in the fire-shine and applies
Her Rocke, all purple and of pompous show,
Her Chaire plac't gainst a Pillar, all arow
Her maids behind her set; and to her here
My Father's dining Throne lookes, seated where
He powres his choice of wine in, like a God.
This view once past, for th'end of your abode,
Addresse suite to my Mother, that her meane
May make the day of your redition seene,
And you may frolicke strait, though farre away
You are in distance from your wished stay.
For if she once be won to wish you well,
Your Hope may instantly your Pasport seale,
And thenceforth sure abide to see your friends,
Faire house, and all to which your heart contends."
This said, she usde her shining scourge and lasht
Her Mules, that soone the shore left where she washt;
And (knowing well the way) their pace was fleet
And thicke they gatherd up their nimble feet.
Which yet she temperd so, and usde her scourge
With so much skill, as not to over-urge
The foote behind, and make them straggle so
From close societie. Firme together go
Ulysses and her maids. And now the Sunne
Sunke to the waters, when they all had wonne
The never-feld and sound-exciting wood,
Sacred to Pallas, where the God-like good
Ulysses rested, and to Pallas praid:
" Heare me, of Goate-kept Jove th'unconquerd Maid,
Now throughly heare me, since in all the time
Of all my wracke my pray'rs could never clime
Thy far-off eares, when noisefull Neptune tost
Upon his watry brissels my imbost
And rock-torne body: heare yet now and daine
I may of the Phaeacian State obtaine
Pitie and grace." Thus praid he, and she heard:
By no meanes yet (exposde to sight) appear'd,
For feare t'offend her Unkle, the supreme
Of all the Sea-Gods, whose wrath still extreme
Stood to Ulysses, and would never cease
Till with his Country shore he crownd his peace.