Odysseus’ Supplication

11“O queen, I am your suppliant, whether you
Be mortal or a goddess. If perchance
You are of that immortal race who dwell
In the broad heaven, you are, I deem, most like
To Artemis, daughter of imperial Zeus,
In shape, in stature, and in noble air.
If mortal and a dweller of the earth,
Thrice happy are your father and his queen,
Thrice happy are your brothers; and their hearts
Must overflow with gladness for your sake,
Beholding such a scion of their house
Enter the choral dance. But happiest he
Beyond them all, who, bringing princely gifts,
Shall bear you to his home a bride; for sure
I never looked on one of mortal race,
Woman or man, like you, and as I gaze
I wonder. Like to you I saw of late,
In Delos, a young palm-tree growing up
Beside Apollo’s altar; for I sailed
To Delos, with much people following me,
On a disastrous voyage. Long I gazed
Upon it wonder-struck, as I am now —
For never from the earth so fair a tree
Had sprung. So marvel I, and am amazed
At you, O lady, and in awe forbear
To clasp your knees. Yet much have I endured.
It was but yestereve that I escaped
From the black sea, upon the twentieth day,
So long the billows and the rushing gales
Farther and farther from Ogygia’s isle
Had borne me. Now upon this shore some god
Casts me, perchance to meet new sufferings here;
For yet the end is not, and many things
The gods must first accomplish. But do you,
queen, have pity on me, since to you
I come the first of all. I do not know
A single dweller of the land beside.
Show me, I pray, your city; and bestow
Some poor old robe to wrap me —if, indeed,
In coming hither, you have brought with you
Aught poor or coarse. And may the gods vouchsafe
To you whatever blessing you can wish,
Husband and home and wedded harmony.
There is no better, no more blessed state,
Than when the wife and husband in accord
Order their household lovingly. Then those
Repine who hate them, those who wish them well
Rejoice, and they themselves the most of all.”
And then the white-armed maid Nausicaa said: —
“Since then, O stranger, you are not malign
Of purpose nor weak-minded —yet, in truth,
Olympian Zeus bestows the goods
Of fortune on the noble and the base
To each one at his pleasure; and your griefs
Are doubtless sent by him, and it is fit
That you submit in patience —now that you
Have reached our lands, and are within our realm,
You shall not lack for garments nor for aught
Due to a suppliant stranger in his need.
The city I will show you, and will name
Its dwellers —the Phaeacians —they possess
The city; all the region lying round
Is theirs, and I am daughter of the prince
Alcinous, large of soul, to whom are given
The rule of the Phaeacians and their power.”

12So spoke the damsel, and commanded thus
Her fair-haired maids: “Stay! whither do you flee,
My handmaids, when a man appears in sight?
You think, perhaps, he is some enemy.
Nay, there is no man living now, nor yet
Will live, to enter, bringing war, the land
Of the Phaeacians. Very dear are they
To the great gods. We dwell apart, afar
Within the unmeasured deep, amid its waves
The most remote of men; no other race
Has commerce with us. This man comes to us
A wanderer and unhappy, and to him
Our cares are due. The stranger and the poor
Are sent by Zeus, and slight regards to them
Are grateful. Maidens, give the stranger food
And drink, and take him to the riverside
To bathe where there is shelter from the wind.”