However small, but rich in wheat and wine; 290 Nor wants it rain or fertilising dew, But pasture green to goats and beeves affords, Trees of all kinds, and fountains never dry. Ithaca therefore, stranger, is a name Known ev'n at Troy, a city, by report, At no small distance from Achaia's shore. The Goddess ceased; then, toil-enduring Chief Ulysses, happy in his native land, (So taught by Pallas, progeny of Jove) In accents wing'd her answ'ring, utter'd prompt 300 Not truth, but figments to truth opposite, For guile, in him, stood never at a pause. O'er yonder flood, even in spacious Crete[60] I heard of Ithaca, where now, it seems, I have, myself, with these my stores arrived; Not richer stores than, flying thence, I left To my own children; for from Crete I fled For slaughter of Orsilochus the swift, Son of Idomeneus, whom none in speed Could equal throughout all that spacious isle. 310 His purpose was to plunder me of all My Trojan spoils, which to obtain, much woe I had in battle and by storms endured, For that I would not gratify his Sire, Fighting beside him in the fields of Troy, But led a diff'rent band. Him from the field Returning homeward, with my brazen spear I smote, in ambush waiting his return At the road-side, with a confed'rate friend. Unwonted darkness over all the heav'ns 320 That night prevailed, nor any eye of man Observed us, but, unseen, I slew the youth. No sooner, then, with my sharp spear of life I had bereft him, than I sought a ship Mann'd by renown'd Phæacians, whom with gifts Part of my spoils, and by requests, I won. I bade them land me on the Pylian shore, Or in fair Elis by th' Epeans ruled, But they, reluctant, were by violent winds Driv'n devious thence, for fraud they purposed none. 330 Thus through constraint we here arrived by night, And with much difficulty push'd the ship Into safe harbour, nor was mention made Of food by any, though all needed food, But, disembark'd in haste, on shore we lay. I, weary, slept profound, and they my goods Forth heaving from the bark, beside me placed The treasures on the sea-beach where I slept, Then, reimbarking, to the populous coast Steer'd of Sidonia, and me left forlorn. 340 He ceased; then smiled Minerva azure-eyed And stroaked his cheek, in form a woman now, Beauteous, majestic, in all elegant arts Accomplish'd, and with accents wing'd replied. Who passes thee in artifice well-framed And in imposture various, need shall find Of all his policy, although a God. Canst thou not cease, inventive as thou art And subtle, from the wiles which thou hast lov'd