Book VII · To the Phaeacian City · Scene 3 of 3
Misted Odysseus passes harbor unnoticed
5Thus Athena spoke, and quickly led the way.
He followed in her steps. They saw him not —
Those trained Phaeacian seamen —for the power
That led him, Athena of the amber hair,
Forbade the sight, and threw a friendly veil
Of darkness over him. Odysseus saw,
Wondering, the haven and the gallant ships,
The marketplace where heroes thronged, the walls
Long, lofty, and beset with palisades,
A marvel to the sight. But when they came
To the king’s stately palace, thus began
The blue-eyed goddess, speaking to the chief: —
6“Father and stranger, here you see the house
Which you have bid me show you. You will find
The princes, nurslings of the gods, within,
Royally feasting. Enter, and fear not;
The bold man ever is the better man,
Although he come from far. You first of all
Will see the queen. Arete is the name
The people give her. She is of a stock
The very same from which Alcinous
The king derives his lineage. For long since
Nausithous, its founder, was brought forth
To Poseidon, the great Shaker of the shores,
By Peribaea, fairest of her sex,
And youngest daughter of Eurymedon,
The large of soul, who ruled the arrogant brood
Of giants, and beheld that guilty race
Cut off, and perished by a fate like theirs.
Her Poseidon wooed; she bore to him a son,
Large-souled Nausithous, whom Phaeacia owned
Its sovereign. To Nausithous were born
Rhexenor and Alcinous. He who bears
The silver bow, Apollo, smote to death
Rhexenor, newly wedded, in his home.
He left no son, and but one daughter, named
Arete; her Alcinous made his wife,
And honored her as nowhere else on earth
Is any woman honored who bears charge
Over a husband’s household. From their hearts
Her children pay her reverence, and the king
And all the people, for they look on her
As if she were a goddess. When she goes
Abroad into the streets, all welcome her
With acclamations. Never does she fail
In wise discernment, but decides disputes
Kindly and justly between man and man.
And if you gain her favor, there is hope
That you may see your friends once more, and stand
In your tall palace on your native soil.”
Homer, The Odyssey, translated by William Cullen Bryant, 1871. Public domain.