“Father! no more the Gods shall honour me, Since men despise me, and those men that see The light in lineage of mine own lov’d race.[4] I vow’d Ulysses should, before the grace Of his return, encounter woes enow To make that purchase dear; yet did not vow Simply against it, since thy brow had bent To his reduction, in the fore-consent Thou hadst vouchsaf’d it; yet, before my mind Hath full pow’r on him, the Phæacians find Their own minds’ satisfaction with his pass, So far from suff’ring what my pleasure was, That ease and softness now is habited In his secure breast, and his careless head Return’d in peace of sleep to Ithaca, The brass and gold of rich Phæacia Rocking his temples, garments richly wov’n, And worlds of prise, more than was ever strov’n From all the conflicts he sustain’d at Troy, If safe he should his full share there enjoy.” The Show’r-dissolver answer’d: “What a speech Hath pass’d thy palate, O thou great in reach Of wrackful empire! Far the Gods remain From scorn of thee, for ’twere a work of pain To prosecute with ignominies one That sways our ablest and most ancient throne. For men, if any so beneath in pow’r Neglect thy high will, now, or any hour That moves hereafter, take revenge to thee, Soothe all thy will, and be thy pleasure free.” “Why then,” said he, “thou blacker of the fumes That dim the sun, my licens’d pow’r resumes Act from thy speech; but I observe so much And fear thy pleasure, that, I dare not touch At any inclination of mine own, Till thy consenting influence be known. But now this curious-built Phæacian ship, Returning from her convoy, I will strip Of all her fleeting matter, and to stone Transform and fix it, just when she hath gone Her full time home, and jets before their prease In all her trim, amids the sable seas, That they may cease to convoy strangers still, When they shall see so like a mighty hill Their glory stick before their city’s grace, And my hands cast a mask before her face.”[5] “O friend,” said Jove, “it shows to me the best Of all earth’s objects, that their whole prease, drest In all their wonder, near their town shall stand, And stare upon a stone, so near the land, So like a ship, and dam up all their lights, As if a mountain interpos’d their sights.” When Neptune heard this, he for Scheria went, Whence the Phæacians took their first descent. Which when he reach’d, and, in her swiftest pride, The water-treader by the city’s side Came cutting close, close he came swiftly on, Took her in violent hand, and to a stone Turn’d all her sylvan substance; all below Firm’d her with roots, and left her. This strange show When the Phæacians saw, they stupid stood, And ask’d each other, who amids the flood Could fix their ship so in her full speed home, And quite transparent make her bulk become? Thus talk’d they; but were far from knowing how These things had issue. Which their king did show, And said: “O friends, the ancient prophecies My father told to me, to all our eyes Are now in proof.