Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English; Homer -- Translations into English; Odysseus, King of Ithaca (Mythological character)
“Crafty must he be, and knavish, who would outdo thee in all manner of
guile, even if it were a god encountered thee. Hardy man, subtle of
wit, of guile insatiate, so thou wast not even in thine own country to
cease from thy sleights and knavish words, which thou lovest from the
bottom of thine heart! But come, no more let us tell of these things,
being both of us practised in deceits, for that thou art of all men far
the first in counsel and in discourse, and I in the company of all the
gods win renown for my wit and wile. Yet thou knewest not me, Pallas
Athene, daughter of Zeus, who am always by thee and guard thee in all
adventures. Yea, and I made thee to be beloved of all the Phaeacians.
And now am I come hither to contrive a plot with thee and to hide away
the goods, that by my counsel and design the noble Phaeacians gave thee
on thy homeward way. And I would tell thee how great a measure of
trouble thou art ordained to fulfil within thy well-builded house. But
do thou harden thy heart, for so it must be, and tell none neither man
nor woman of all the folk, that thou hast indeed returned from
wandering, but in silence endure much sorrow, submitting thee to the
despite of men.”
And Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: “Hard is it,
goddess, for a mortal man that meets thee to discern thee, howsoever
wise he be; for thou takest upon thee every shape. But this I know
well, that of old thou wast kindly to me, so long as we sons of the
Achaeans made war in Troy. But so soon as we had sacked the steep city
of Priam and had gone on board our ships, and the god had scattered the
Achaeans, thereafter I have never beheld thee, daughter of Zeus, nor
seen thee coming on board my ship, to ward off sorrow from me—but I
wandered evermore with a stricken heart, till the gods delivered me
from my evil case—even till the day when, within the fat land of the
men of Phaeacia, thou didst comfort me with thy words, and thyself
didst lead me to their city. And now I beseech thee in thy father’s
name to tell me: for I deem not that I am come to clear-seen Ithaca,
but I roam over some other land, and methinks that thou speakest thus
to mock me and beguile my mind. Tell me whether in very deed I am come
to mine own dear country.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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