forth among the hills— The sides of high Taÿgetus or slopes Of Erymanthus—chases joyously Boars and fleet stags, and round her in a throng Frolic the rural nymphs, Latona’s heart Is glad, for over all the rest are seen Her daughter’s head and brow, and she at once Is known among them, though they all are fair, Such was this spotless virgin midst her maids.
Now when they were about to move for home With harnessed mules and with the shining robes Carefully folded, then the blue-eyed maid, Pallas, bethought herself of this—to rouse Ulysses and to bring him to behold The bright-eyed maiden, that she might direct The stranger’s way to the Phaeacian town. The royal damsel at a handmaid cast The ball; it missed, and fell into the stream Where a deep eddy whirled. All shrieked aloud. The great Ulysses started from his sleep And sat upright, discoursing to himself:—
“Ah me! upon what region am I thrown? What men are here—wild, savage, and unjust, Or hospitable, and who hold the gods In reverence? There are voices in the air, Womanly voices, as of nymphs that haunt The mountain summits, and the river-founts, And the moist grassy meadows. Or perchance Am I near men who have the power of speech? Nay, let me then go forth at once and learn.”
Thus having said, the great Ulysses left The thicket. From the close-grown wood he rent, With his strong hand, a branch well set with leaves And wound it as a covering round his waist. Then like a mountain lion he went forth, That walks abroad, confiding in his strength, In rain and wind; his eyes shoot fire; he falls On oxen, or on sheep, or forest-deer, For hunger prompts him even to attack The flock within its closely guarded fold. Such seemed Ulysses when about to meet Those fair-haired maidens, naked as he was, But forced by strong necessity. To them His look was frightful, for his limbs were foul With sea-foam yet. To right and left they fled Along the jutting riverbanks. Alone The daughter of