Alcinoüs kept her place, For Pallas gave her courage and forbade Her limbs to tremble. So she waited there. Ulysses pondered whether to approach The bright-eyed damsel and embrace her knees And supplicate, or, keeping yet aloof, Pray her with soothing words to show the way Townward and give him garments. Musing thus, It seemed the best to keep at distance still, And use soft words, lest, should he clasp her knees, The maid might be displeased. With gentle words Skilfully ordered thus Ulysses spake:—
“O queen, I am thy suppliant, whether thou Be mortal or a goddess. If perchance Thou art of that immortal race who dwell In the broad heaven, thou art, I deem, most like To Dian, daughter of imperial Jove, In shape, in stature, and in noble air. If mortal and a dweller of the earth, Thrice happy are thy father and his queen, Thrice happy are thy brothers; and their hearts Must overflow with gladness for thy sake, Beholding such a scion of their house Enter the choral dance. But happiest he Beyond them all, who, bringing princely gifts, Shall bear thee to his home a bride; for sure I never looked on one of mortal race, Woman or man, like thee, and as I gaze I wonder. Like to thee I saw of late, In Delos, a young palm-tree growing up Beside Apollo’s altar; for I sailed To Delos, with much people following me, On a disastrous voyage. Long I gazed Upon it wonder-struck, as I am now— For never from the earth so fair a tree Had sprung. So marvel I, and am amazed At thee, O lady, and in awe forbear To clasp thy knees. Yet much have I endured. It was but yestereve that I escaped From the black sea, upon the twentieth day, So long the billows and the rushing gales Farther and farther from Ogygia’s isle Had borne me. Now upon this shore some god Casts me, perchance to meet new sufferings here; For yet the end is not, and many things The gods must first accomplish. But do thou, queen, have pity on me, since to thee I come the first of all. I do not know A single dweller of the land beside. Show me, I pray, thy city; and bestow Some poor old robe to wrap me—if, indeed, In coming hither, thou hast brought with thee Aught poor or coarse. And may the gods vouchsafe To thee