Odysseus again received a place of honour by the side of Alcinous, and a goodly portion of meat was set before him. Looking round the circle of guests he saw Demodocus, the blind harper, sitting in their midst, and wishing to show him honour, he cut off a choice piece from the flesh which had been set before him, and bade a servant carry it to the bard, and greet him in the giver's name. The servant did as he was bidden, and Demodocus received the portion of honour with becoming gratitude.
When the banquet was drawing towards its close Odysseus approached the minstrel, and after praising his former lay, which told of the disastrous homeward voyage of the Greeks, he begged him to sing the Lay of the Wooden Horse, the device by which Troy was taken. Demodocus complied, and taking his harp began to chant that famous lay, which told how the Greeks burnt their tents and sailed away, leaving the wooden monster behind them, how the Trojans dragged the horse into the city, and how the fatal engine sent forth its burden of armed men in the night. The name of Odysseus, the arch-plotter, occurred again and again as the tale went on; and once more Odysseus was moved to tears by the memories which the words of the bard awakened.
Alcinous observed his emotion, and called to Demodocus to cease his song. "We vex our guest," he said, "for whose sake we are gathered here. Doubtless the minstrel has touched some hidden spring of sorrow. But come now," he continued, addressing Odysseus, "we have honoured thee exceedingly, and given thee of our best. Wilt thou not repay us by telling something of thyself? Let us hear thy name, and say of what land and of what city thou art, that our ships may know whither to steer their course. For know that we mariners of Phæacia need no pilots nor rudders, but our ships by their own instinct take us to whatsoever place we would visit, gliding like phantoms, invisible, swift as thought. Nor has any vessel from our ports ever suffered shipwreck or harm.
"Thou likewise hast been a great traveller, and seen many lands and nations, both such as are wild and fierce and such as are gentle and of godly mind. Tell us then the tale of thy wanderings, and say why thou weepest ever at the name of Troy."
All the guests bent forward with eager faces, and strained their ears to catch Odysseus' answer; for there was something mysterious about this strange guest, something which marked him as a man of no common stamp, and their curiosity, which had hitherto been held in check by the laws of courtesy, was now set free from all restraint by the frank question of Alcinous.
"Illustrious prince," answered Odysseus, after a moment's pause, "methinks it were best to sit silent and listen to the sweet voice of the harper; for what better thing has life to offer than a full cup and brave minstrelsy heard at the quiet hour of eventide? But if thou must needs hear a tale of sorrow it is not for me to deny thee. First of all I will tell thee my name. I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, and my name is in all men's mouths because of my deep wit and manifold wiles, yea, the renown thereof reaches even unto heaven. My home is the sunny isle of Ithaca, last in a line of islands lying in the western sea. It is a rugged land, but a nurse of gallant sons; and sweet, ah! very sweet, is the name of home. Never hath my heart been turned from that dear spot, no, not by all the loveliness of Calypso, nor by all the witchery of Circe, but ever I remained faithful to the one lodestar of my life."
Here Odysseus began the wondrous story of his wanderings, which kept his hearers spellbound until far into the night.
7. Nothing too much, the corner-stone of Greek morality. [(return)]