Part 5

Then the ship was hauled into a cave, and their companions were induced to come up to Circe’s house, where they all joined in feasting and merriment. Cautious Eurylochus tried to dissuade them; but Odysseus would give no heed to his warning; and there followed a long interval of riotous pleasure over which Circe and the river-nymphs who were her handmaidens presided as queens. The days went by uncounted in luxurious ease; and if, in rare moments, Odysseus had an uneasy flash of memory, Circe’s caressing voice would flatter and soothe him into complacence again, persuading him to stay yet a little longer.

“_Myself I know What sorrows you have suffered in the deep Wherein the fishes travel to and fro;_

“_And likewise what the hands of hostile men Of scathe on land have dealt you. Sojourn then Here with me, eating food and drinking wine Till the hearts rise within your breasts again_

“_As when at first you from your home were lorn, Rough Ithaca: but feeble now and worn With long hard wanderings are you, and your hearts Forget all gladness; for you much have borne._“[9]

So she would cajole them, and so the blandishments of Circe proved far more effectual than her drugs. For a whole year the thought of home and friends was driven away, while jollity filled out the indolent hours. But satiety came at last, and memory began to reawaken. With rough home-truths, the sailors broke the spell that Circe had cast upon their commander. They called him out from her odorous, shadowy halls; and under the clear sunlight that suddenly made Circe hateful, they reproached him with his dalliance, and bade him flee at once if he would save his soul alive. There was no withstanding them; and indeed Odysseus had no wish to do so.

When evening came, he claimed from Circe the fulfilment of her promise to send them safely back.... He would be sad at leaving her, he said, since the time had passed so pleasantly in her sunny island; but now his men are beginning to complain and he himself (though that he did not tell her) had suddenly grown weary and remorseful. It all seemed very simple: and he had not much misgiving. Circe had only to speak the word, that they might have safe convoy, and return to Ithaca. Surely the gods must have laughed in irony at the man who thought to part from Circe so lightly, knowing as they did the whole cost of that parting for him. Circe was not to be cast off and forgotten, as a mere incident of Odysseus’s adventures. Her reply was proud, and of ominous import. Since they wished to go, she would not detain them; but let Odysseus summon all his courage:

“_Not against your will You and your fellows longer shall abide Within my house; but you must first fulfil_

“_Another journey yet, the house to see Of Hades and renowned Persephone._“[9]

The awful words fell horribly on Odysseus’s ear. So they might not then simply hoist sail and away, gaily bound for Ithaca? Instead, there was yet to make the bitterest voyage that even Odysseus had made—a dark and awesome journey to the nether world, there to see and hold converse with the dead prophet, Tiresias.

_So spake she; but my heart was rent in me, And sitting on the bed I bitterly Wept, and no longer did my soul desire To live, or yet the light of day to see._[9]

But so it was decreed, and since all his grief and horror could not alter it, he begged of Circe at least to tell him how he might find his way to the dread World of the Dead, and how he might return in safety from it. Circe smiled inscrutably. She knew that the passage there is all too easily won.

“_Take no concern, for pilot need you none._

“_Hoist but your mast and spread the sails of white, And sitting let the North wind’s breath aright Bear her: but when on shipboard you have crossed The Ocean-river, there will come in sight_

“_The tangled groves of Queen Persephone, A low shore set with the tall poplar tree And willow that untimely sheds her fruit; There run your ship abeach out of the sea,_

“_Beside the Ocean-stream’s deep-eddying flow, And to the mouldering house of Hades go Afoot._“[9]

She told him all that he must do there; how he must pass right through the crowding shadowy forms, and where two loud-thundering rivers meet he must dig a trench and pour out a drink-offering before the dead. But he must not let them partake of it, and must keep them at bay with drawn sword till the prophet Tiresias should appear and prophesy to him of his return.

_So spake she, and Dawn straightway rose and shone Gold-throned; and in my shirt and cloak anon I clad me, and the nymph herself a great White mantle, thin and beautiful, put on;_

_And round her loins a golden girdle fair She drew, and cast a kerchief on her hair; But I throughout the house to everyman Went with soft words, and bade my crew prepare._[9]

The crew set cheerily to work, but they did not know all yet; and when Odysseus told them of the dreadful voyage they had now to make at the bidding of the goddess, they were filled with despair. Perhaps Circe too was ruthful at heart; and one act of grace at least she did them. For when all was ready to launch the ship, they found that an unseen hand had placed beside it the animals that they would need for sacrifices in the World of the Dead:

_But when at last the margent of the sea And the swift ship we reached in misery, While from our eyes the heavy tear-drops ran, Circe, before us gone invisibly,_

_By the black ship a ram and a black ewe Had tethered, lightly passing by our crew. For mortal eyes a god against his will Hither and thither going may not view._[9]

Circe did not say farewell, because she knew that they would meet again. For the first spirit to greet Odysseus when he reached the dark Underworld was the restless ghost of Elpenor, one of his own crew. In the hurry of their departure, Elpenor had fallen from a gallery and had been killed. His untended body still lay in Circe’s house, and the poor ghost could not rest until it was buried. So when the dreadful journey to the dead was accomplished, Odysseus sailed back to Aeaea to perform the funeral rites.

_Thus all the rites we ordered as was due: But Circe well of our returning knew From the Dark House, and very speedily Arrayed herself and down anigh us drew._[9]

She made Odysseus tell her all that had befallen him, and all that he had seen in the House of Hades; and then she gave him directions for his homeward voyage. He was to beware of the Syrens, and of Scylla and Charybdis; but above all he must prevent his men from doing injury to the sacred Oxen of the Sun.

“_But if you harm them, I foretell herein Destruction to your ship and all your crew; And though yourself to Ithaca may win,_

“_Late and unhappy shall your coming be, And all your crew shall perish._“[9]

Her black prophecy was fulfilled to the uttermost; and indeed Circe seems destined always to be a baleful augurer to Odysseus. Yet she herself is quite untouched by these mortal woes. When the ship was manned she came down to the sea to speed them away; and our last glimpse of her is as she stands upon the shore, her garments and the tendrils of her hair lightly fluttering, and her lovely body drawn to its height as she raises white arms and cries to the winds to follow them.

_They got them in and took their seats again,_

_And sitting at the benches in array, Smote with their oars upon the water grey; Until the fair-tressed goddess terrible, Circe of mortal voice, to speed our way,_

_Behind the blue-prowed ship sent forth anon A following wind, a good companion._[9]

Footnote 9:

From Professor J. W. Mackail’s translation of the _Odyssey_ (John Murray).

_Homer: Calypso_

Calypso is a statelier figure than Circe, although they have much in common. Looking casually at the two characters, we are inclined to wonder why Homer should have given them so many points of resemblance. Both are immortals—Circe a daughter of the sun, and Calypso a daughter of Atlas. Both are skilled in sorcery; both live on islands set far away amidst the sea; both are ‘fair-tressed’ and beautiful and have sweet singing voices; both love Odysseus and desire him for a husband.

But our first thought is corrected the instant we look at the two goddesses a little more closely. In fact, the likeness between them only helps us to realize the art which has given to each of them a distinct individuality. We shall find that Calypso is gentler and more dignified; a sweeter and more gracious creature than Circe. There is nothing sinister or malign about her; and if she loves Odysseus, and strives to keep him at her side, it is that she may make him immortal, like herself. She has no evil intent toward him; and when the messenger of Zeus bids her to release him, she sets herself the task of helping him away. Odysseus has not now to pay a gruesome penalty for willing bondage, as when he left Circe in Aeaea; but wins his way by Calypso’s aid to the friendly land of Phæacia.

In a “far isle amid the sea” Calypso dwelt alone. The blue sky bent over it to embrace the bluer sea; and round its base a spray of foam perpetually laved the rocks with snowy fingers. Out of the sea tree-clad cliffs rose steeply, and the scent of pines hung like incense in the warm air. Deep chasms here and there rent the cliffs apart, and gave access to the sea; but their sides were clothed with olives and trailing vines; and far down below could be heard the whisper of a little stream as it ran to join the murmuring waves on a strip of golden sand. At the head of one of the ravines was Calypso’s cavern.

_Close to the cavern and clustered around it was growing a coppice; Alder was there and poplar and cypress of delicate perfume. Many a long-winged bird in the copse found covert at night-time, Many a falcon and owl, and crook-billed chattering sea-crows, Birds of the brine which busy themselves with a life on the ocean. Here too, stretching in front of the hollow mouth of the cavern, Trailed a luxuriant vine rich-laden with many a cluster. Four bright runnels of water arose from a neighbouring fountain, Each one nigh to the other but turned to a different channel. Spreading around soft meadows with violets blossomed and parsley Richly bedight—yea e’en an immortal, if haply he came there, All might wondering view and rejoice in his heart to behold it._[10]

Here it was, then, that Calypso, standing one morning in the sunny entrance to her cave, first saw Odysseus. The prophecy of Circe had been fulfilled. His crew had impiously laid hands on the sacred Oxen of the Sun, and smitten by an avenging storm sent by the wrathful Apollo, had every one paid the penalty with his life. Odysseus only had been spared; and for nine days and nights he had struggled alone with the waves on a shattered raft.

_And on the tenth at night out of the sea To that Far Island the Gods drifted me, Calypso’s home, the fair-tressed mortal-voiced Dread Goddess; and my friend and stay was she._[11]

Calypso rescued and tended the shipwrecked man who was thrown upon her shores; and after his awful peril and hardship he was content to forget everything for a time. Days and weeks and months slipped quickly past and Odysseus remained, charmed by the beauty of the island and the gracious society of Calypso. Sometimes, reclined on the yellow sands where he had been washed ashore, she would listen eagerly to the tales of his wanderings. Sometimes, when the evening breeze blew chill from the sea, they would sit together in the cavern:

_Where from a brazier by her, burning well, A fire of cloven cedar-wood and pine Far through the island sent a goodly smell._

_And in it she with voice melodious sang, While through the warp her golden shuttle rang As to and fro before the loom she went._[11]

As Calypso sang her strange sweet melodies in the fire-lit gloom, the memory of Ithaca and Penelope grew faint. But one day the spell was broken. Standing on a cliff and looking out to sea, he suddenly remembered home and wife and friends; and from that time onward he did not cease to long and pray for release. But year after year dragged wearily on, and Calypso tried by arts and endearments and promises of deathless gifts, to win him to stay with her. All her persuasion was fruitless, however, and Odysseus

_Sitting far apart On the sea-beach, as oftentimes before, Fretted with tears and sighs and bitter smart,_

_Out seaward to the barren ocean-rim Kept gazing, and his eyes with tears were dim._[11]

Meanwhile, in high assembly of the gods upon Olympus, Athena the loyal friend of Odysseus stood out and pleaded his cause before them all. This austere daughter of great Zeus despised the wiles by which Calypso would keep the hero at her side; and begged her father to release him.

“_But for Odysseus wise I am ill at ease, That man unhappy who amid the seas Far from his friends affliction bears for long, Within the sea-girt island set with trees;_

“_The island in whose bounds a goddess dwells, Daughter of Atlas of the guileful spells...._

“_But for his land Odysseus longs so sore That even the smoke upcurling from its shore Fain would he see and die...._

“_Did not Odysseus on the gods bestow Guerdon of sacrifices long ago, Down in wide Troy beside the Argive ships? Why does your wrath, O Zeus, afflict him so?_“[11]

Zeus gently reproved his splendid daughter. Is it to be supposed that he has forgotten wise Odysseus, famed for his piety, and the constant friend of gods and men? But there are reasons—partly the foolishness and rashness of the hero and his men—why all these delays and reverses have fallen upon him; and but for Zeus they would have brought on him destruction long ago. Athena may set her mind at rest, however: the hour has come for his deliverance. The great Father of the Gods turned to his messenger:

“_Hermes,—for ever as herald thou bear’st the behests of immortals— Bring to the fair-tressed nymph our will’s immutable verdict, Even that patient Odysseus return and arrive at his homeland.... Thus is he fated his friends once more to revisit and once more Win to his high-roofed home and arrive at the land of his fathers._“[10]

Swift as light itself, Hermes sped down to Calypso’s island and passed up through the flowering garden that embowered her cavern. He paused a moment before entering, to let his glance roam over the peaceful beauty of the scene and to breathe the delicious fragrance of the evening air.

_Till at the last, when his spirit was fully contented with gazing, Into the wide-mouthed cavern he entered; and standing before her Straightway known was the god to the beautiful goddess Calypso, Seeing that never unknown is a deity unto another, None of the spirits immortal, not e’en if he dwells at a distance._[10]

Calypso greeted him gladly, not divining the cruel message that he was charged to deliver. And while she hospitably set before him the deathless food of the gods, she eagerly inquired the reason of his unwonted visit.

“_Why come you, Hermes of the Rod of Gold, Gracious and dear? You come not oft of old. Speak, and most gladly to my power will I Do your desire, if fate have so controlled._“[11]

Hermes was reluctant to tell his errand, knowing the pain that it would cause Calypso; and not until the meal was over did he reveal it. He had come against his will, he said, with a decree of Zeus concerning the hero whom she is detaining in her island. Odysseus must be released.

_So spake he; but aghast thereat his word The bright of Goddesses Calypso heard, And answering, spake a winged word to him: “Jealous you are, O Gods, to envy stirred_

_“Beyond all others, and can never brook On loves of Goddesses and men to look...._

_“Yet I it was who rescued him, while he Clung round the keel, alone, when mightily Zeus shattered with a fiery thunderbolt His racing ship amid the purple sea._

_“There his good comrades perished; him alone Hither by flood and driving tempest blown, I loved and nourished, and had thought to keep, Deathless and ageless always for my own.”_[11]

The love of Calypso, of which she spoke so simply and frankly to Hermes, was something deeper than caprice. It was rooted in that heroic act when she had toiled to drag him up out of the fiercely beating surf, and had brought him back from the brink of death to the cheerful light of day. She had given him his life, and her love with it; and ever since she had striven to keep him at her side, thinking to win his love in return. But she was no witch, to wreak evil spells over an unwilling heart; and though the blow that Hermes had dealt her was a bitter one, she replied with dignity. She would consent to the will of Zeus, not merely because he might not be withstood, but because it was her desire to do good to Odysseus.

“_Let him go hence across the barren sea; Howbeit his convoy cannot come from me, Since oared ships I have not to my hand, Nor any mariners his crew to be_

“_Over the ridges of the broad sea-floor: Yet will I gladly teach him all my lore, And naught will hide of counsel, so that he Free from all harm may reach his native shore._“[11]

So the Messenger of Zeus departed; and Calypso went sadly across the island to the spot where she knew Odysseus was sitting. As she came near she could see him, gazing out to sea, home-sick and despairing. So he had sat this many a day, turning from her in coldness or in anger to go and mourn for far-off Ithaca and his mortal wife. Why could he not be content to remain with her? Was Penelope then so very beautiful—more beautiful than she, a goddess? Had she not offered him immortality? Had she not lavished tenderness upon him? And now she knew that at the first word of her hateful news he would joyfully prepare to go, and leave her alone with her regret. As she came up and stood by his side, her heart was sore at the perversity of fate. But there was no rancour in it; and having given her word, she would fulfil it generously. So she put her hand upon his shoulder gently as he sat with averted face:

“_No more, unhappy man, sit mourning there, Nor let your life be wasted; for to-day Myself unasked your journey will prepare._

“_Up therefore, hew long beams, and skilfully Fit them with tools a broad-floored raft to be; And build aloft a spar-deck thereupon To carry you across the misty sea._

“_But water I will store on it and bread, And the red wine wherewith is comforted Man’s heart, that you be stayed from famishing; And lend you raiment; and your sail to spread_

“_Will send a following wind, that free from ill Home you may win, if such indeed the will Be of the Gods, who hold wide heaven, and are Greater than I to purpose and fulfil._“[11]

The great good news was too wonderful for Odysseus to believe. Bewildered and doubting, he forgot his usual courtesy, and uttered an ungracious speech. Is she not deceiving him? Does she not intend some evil?

“_Other is here thy device, O goddess—not homeward to send me— While on a raft thou bidd’st me retraverse a gulf of the ocean Such in its terrors and perils that never a well-built vessel Voyaging swiftly and gladdened by Zeus-sent breezes will cross it. Ne’er will I mount on a raft—still less if it give thee displeasure— Art thou not willing to swear me an oath and solemnly promise Never against me to plot a device that is evil to harm me._“[10]

Odysseus had suffered so much at the hands of angry gods that he could not give credit to Calypso’s generosity. He suspected her of anger too; and rather than risk the perils of an awful voyage like the last, he would remain here upon the island. His words would have embittered a smaller soul; but Calypso saw what was passing in his mind, and answered him playfully:

“_The Goddess bright and bland Calypso, smiling, stroked him with her hand, and spoke a word and answered: “Verily A rogue you are, and quick to understand,_

_Such words are these you have devised to say!”_[11]

And then, knowing that he was really apprehensive of danger, her voice dropped to a deeper tone, as she gave him the solemn oath of the great gods.

“_Now Earth I take to record here to-day, And the wide heaven above us, and the dread Water abhorred that trickles down alway,_

“_(Which is the mightiest and most dread to break Of all the oaths the blessed Gods may take) No practice for your hurt will I devise, But take such thought and counsel for your sake_

“_As for mine own self I would reckon good, If in the like extremity I stood. For my own heart is righteous, nor my heart Iron within me, but of piteous mood._“[11]

He was convinced at last; and together they went back to the cavern for the evening meal. Calypso served to Odysseus his mortal food, and her handmaidens set before her the deathless wine of the immortals. And while they ate, she suddenly realized how soon she must part from him. Her brave mood faded as she thought how lonely she would be when he had gone; and thought too of the struggles which Odysseus had yet to make before he reached his home. Again the haunting question came—Why need he go at all? Why would he not stay with her? And though she knew there was no hope, she pleaded with him once more.

“_Odysseus, may your longing nought withhold To your own land so straightway to be gone? Then fare you well; but had your heart foretold_

“_How many woes the fates for you decree Before you reach your country, here with me You had abode, and in this house had kept, And been immortal, howso fain to see_

“_That wife for whom through all your days you pine: Yet deem I not her beauty more than mine. Since hardly mortal woman may compare In shape and beauty with my race divine._“[11]

Odysseus had recovered his gallantry now. He begged Calypso not to be wroth with him for desiring to go, and acknowledged that Penelope was by no means so fair as she. As to the ill that he had still to suffer, he would incline his heart to endurance: “And now, let this too follow after, if it will.”

Under his courteous manner lay a stern resolve; and as soon as morning came, Calypso set herself to prepare his going. Though her heart was very sore, she helped him readily.