When all had appeased their hunger, Ulysses turned again to the minstrel and begged him, as he knew all the adventures of the Trojan war, to sing the one of the wooden horse with which Ulysses had deceived the Trojans. So the man sang the curious tale, never dreaming that the hero whose cunning he was celebrating was at his side. During the recital the hero often sighed and wiped away a tear. Alcinous noticed his emotion and again tactfully bade the singer pause, saying: “Our guest has been listening in tears; a deep sorrow seems to gnaw at his heart. Let the singer be silent, then, that all may be joyful. The stranger who cometh to us with confidence must be dear to us as a brother. And now tell us, friend, without evasion, what we would know of thee. Speak! What is thy name, who are thy parents, and where thy native land? For this we must know, if we would guide thee thither, which we shall gladly do, although an ancient oracle has warned us that jealous Poseidon will sometime sink our ship on its return from such a voyage. Tell us, too, where thou hast been and of the people thou hast met. Tell us all this and also why thou weepest while the minstrel sings of Troy.” Chapter VII Ulysses tells his Story—The Lotus-Eaters, Polyphemus, Circe, Scylla, and Charybdis—The Visit to Hades The company sat in silent expectation, gazing intently at the stranger, who began as follows: “The land of the Phæacians is indeed a delightful land, and I know no greater pleasure than to sit in the banquet hall, while heralds move from table to table filling the cups, and the minstrel sings splendid songs of the heroic deeds of brave men. For harp and voice are the ornaments of the feast. But ye ask me for my unhappy history. Where shall I begin the tale, for the immortal gods have heaped much misery upon me? Let my name come first, that ye may know me and keep me in remembrance. I am Ulysses, son of Laertes, well known to men through many exploits.” The Phæacians were transfixed with astonishment, and the old minstrel bemoaned the loss of his eyesight that he was unable to see the man whose heroic deeds he had so often sung. He, the most famous among all the Trojan warriors, had eaten and drunk with them, and was now going to tell them of all the wonderful deeds which he had done and the hardships he had suffered. “Yes, I am Ulysses,” continued the hero. “The sunny isle of Ithaca is my home. I will not speak of the unhappy war. When it was ended I turned with my comrades to Ismarus, the city of the Ciconians, destroyed it, slew the fleeing men, while we divided the women and other booty amongst us. I now counselled that we should hasten from the place, but my foolish comrades did not obey me. As long as they had enough plunder, wine, sheep, and goats, they caroused upon the shore and thus brought the first misfortune upon us.