Book VIII

that our ships May learn, and bear thee to the place; for here In our Phaeacian ships no pilots are, Nor rudders, as in ships of other lands. Ours know the thoughts and the intents of men. To them all cities and all fertile coasts Inhabited by men are known; they cross The great sea scudding fast, involved in mist And darkness, with no fear of perishing Or meeting harm. I heard Nausithoüs, My father, say that Neptune was displeased With us for safely bearing to their homes So many men, and that he would destroy In after time some good Phaeacian ship, Returning from a convoy, in the waves Of the dark sea, and leave her planted there, A mountain huge and high, before our town. So did the aged chieftain prophesy; The god, as best may please him, will fulfil My father’s words, or leave them unfulfilled. Now tell me truly whither thou hast roamed, And what the tribes of men that thou hast seen; Tell which of them are savage, rude, unjust, And which are hospitable and revere The blessed gods. Declare why thou didst weep And sigh when hearing what unhappy fate Befell the Argive and Achaian host And town of Troy. The gods decreed it; they Ordain destruction to the sons of men, A theme of song thereafter. Hadst thou not Some valiant kinsman who was slain at Troy? A son-in-law? the father of thy wife? Nearest of all are they to us, save those Of our own blood. Or haply might it be Some bosom-friend, one eminently graced With all that wins our love; for not less dear Than if he were a brother should we hold The wise and gentle man who is our friend.”