And now are all things for our worthy guest Made ready, both the escort and these gifts, The pledges of our kind regard. A guest, A suppliant, is a brother, even to him Who bears a heart not easy to be moved.
No longer, then, keep back with studied art What I shall ask; ’twere better far to speak With freedom. Tell the name thy mother gave, Thy father, and all those who dwell within, And round thy city. For no living man Is nameless from the time that he is born. Humble or high in station, at their birth The parents give them names.
Declare thy land, Thy people, and thy city, 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