Book VII
Inside the Palace
 

So long suffering Odysseus prayed in that grove and Nausika rode on with her donkeys and came to the gates of the palace.  Her brothers, strong and handsome, came out and unhitched the cart and carried the clothes inside while she went straight to her room.  Eurymedusa, her nurse, had already lit the fire in her room.  This woman, now old, had once been taken in a raid as a prize for Alcinoos – a tribute to the king.  She had nursed the white armed princess in the palace and now she made Nausika’s fire and brought her food.
Odysseus now made for the city and Athena,  loving him, wrapped a sea mist around him so that none of the city men would see him and challenge him.  Then Athena came to him on the road as a young girl, a water bearer, carrying her jug.  Odysseus said to her:
“Little one, can you tell me the way to Alcinoos’ palace?  I am a stranger here, exhausted from my travels.”
Athena with her flashing eyes answered:
“Oh yes old man, I’ll show you the way – stay close behind and don’t look at anyone – they don’t like strangers here.  All they really like are their boats and what boats they are: gifts from Poseidon, fast as white wings in the sky, fast as a thought.”
That’s what she said and he followed her as she ran ahead: a man following a goddess.  Those Phaeacians, famous for their boats, didn’t see him as he walked by because that powerful goddess protected him with a white mist.  Odysseus looked at the city and was impressed: the harbor and ships, the public square, the ramparts and palisades.   When they were near the palace the gray eyed goddess, disguised as a girl, called back:
“Here we are stranger, go on in, be brave; a man sure of himself always does best in this situation, you’ll find the queen first, Arete, she comes from a long and great line – Poseidon and Peribois started it – and when King Alcinoos married her she was an only child and he loved her as no other woman is loved by king, children and her own people.  When she walks out into the city all the people love her – men come to her to settle their arguments – so if this queen accepts you, then there is hope you will see your home and your homeland.”
With that the gray eyed goddess was gone and made her way home to Athens and her palace in Erekhthus.  Odysseus stood and looked long at that palace.  It glowed with the glow of both sun and moon.  There were panels of blue like Lapis Lazuli and the great doors were a deep gold.  The door-posts were bronze with a silver lintel and golden handles.  Beside the doors, breathing, were great dogs made by Hephaistos of gold and silver inlay  that kept watch forever over generous King Alcinoos’ palace.  Inside this door were rows of stately chairs covered with fine weavings made by the women.  Here the leaders of the country sat at their feast.  The scene was lit by golden statues of young boys holding up burning torches.  Fifty serving women were there grinding yellow corn, or weaving webs or twinning wool with their fingers busy as the silver leaves on a high aspen tree.  There were fine tight woven fabrics still wet with the olive oil they used to finish the cloth – good as those Phaeacian men were at boats, so these women were at weaving for Athena gave them fine hands and fine minds.
Outside, enclosed by a wall, was a great orchard of four or more acres.  Here the trees are always in fruit and bloom: pomegranates, pear and apple, rich figs and dark olives.  The way the west wind blows here makes sure that just as one pear is ripe another is ripening and the same with the grapes and apples – an endless summer.  At the far end the grapes are worked, raisins dried in the sun, while others are fermented as the new grapes come on – and beyond that vegetables always new and fresh all year.  Two fountains rise at the end and one pours through watering the gardens while the other’s stream runs into the courtyard where all the people come for their water: these were the gifts the gods gave Alcinoos.
That long suffering Odysseus gazed in appreciation of these riches, and then went in.  Inside he found all the great men of the island pouring their last drink as a toast to sharp-eyed Hermes.  Odysseus moved unseen through the hall wrapped in the white mist and so he came to Queen Arete and King Alcinoos.  Odysseus knelt and as a supplicant touched the back of queen Arete’s knee.  The magic mist evaporated and they were all amazed to see this man.  Now Odysseus made his speech:
“Queen Arete, daughter of the great Rhexenor, I am a man who has suffered so – I beg you, the King and your company to help me.  May each of you hand your riches and your titles down to your children.   For myself I ask a swift return home: I have not seen those I love for so long and my life is pain.”
In silence Odysseus moved over by the fire and sat in the ashes.  Still silence held until old Ekheneos, one of the great speakers on the island, broke the spell.  Moved by kindness he spoke these words:
“Alcinous, this is not how we do it.  Look at our guest in the ashes.  Everyone is waiting for a word from you – lift him up, bring him to the table, give him a silver studded chair, pour wine so we can drink to the Lord of Lightning Zeus who loves and protects wanderers and beggars.  Tell the housekeeper to bring back the best food.”
            With that King Alcinoos took Odysseus’ hand and pulled him up and had his first son, Laodomas give up his magnificent chair.  Maids poured water from a gold pitcher into a silver bowl and placed a serving table next to him.  They brought out bread and food, the very best.  Odysseus, hungry and beaten ate at last.  Now the King called his Herald:
            “Pontonoos, serve another round of our best wine – we will drink to the Lord of Lightning who cares for wanderers and supplicants.”
            Pontonoos  poured out their wine, they in turn made libation and then drank deep themselves.  Now King Alcinoos spoke:
            “Lords and leaders of Phaiakia, hear me: our feast is done and you may go home – tomorrow we will gather and give our guest a day of feasting and games.  We will then plan how we can return this man to his country, however far away that may be.   We will make his stay here and his journey home safe.  On the day he was born the spinners of fate wove his future and he must suffer what will come – but we will see him home.  But what if he is one of the gods come to us in disguise?  Well the gods are behaving in strange ways now if they come in disguise – always they would come and be amongst us when we feasted and made offering, no disguise, we are as close to the gods as kin, close as we are to Cyclops and the race of giants.”
            Thoughtful Odysseus replied:
            “Alcinoos, there is no worry there: I am a man of the earth, mortal flesh and blood.  Think of those you know who have suffered most, that is who I am like.  I can tell a tale of greater misery than any.  Oh this hunger!  Even in misery the belly is most like a dog in a man, no stopping that hunger – fill me up it shouts.  I hope tomorrow you will have the same need to see me in a boat with sails set for home.  Hard years I have had and now I long, before I die, to see my home, my lands, my people.”
            The room rang with shouts: they all approved of the clear and honest way he spoke.  They toasted the gods again, drank and made their way home.  While the maids cleared the table Odysseus was left alone with King Alcinoos and Queen Arete.  It was the ivory skinned Queen who spoke first: she knew the clothes he wore came from the palace and her words were sharp and fast.  “My friend, I have some questions for you: who are you?  Who gave you those clothes?  Didn’t you say you came to us from the sea?”
            “It would be hard work to tell you the whole tale of my troubles: the gods have given me such hardship.  But this thing you ask about is easily explained – in mid-ocean is Ogygia, the island of the goddess Calypso, daughter of Atlas: a beautiful and dangerous goddess – no mortal or immortal goes there.  But fate brought me there after Zeus hurled a thunderbolt and smashed my boat in the wine dark sea.  All my men drowned there but I held onto the last of the keel and drifted for nine days, on the tenth the gods dark night washed me ashore on Calypso’s island.  There the goddess took me in, fed me, cared for me, even promised me immortality – I was held there for seven long years, held there, for in my heart I never gave consent.  I soaked those immortal clothes with my tears.  Then when the eighth year came into its cycle, she changed her mind and sent me home –perhaps a warning from Zeus, perhaps her own idea.  I built a boat with her help, then she provisioned it with food and wine; she made me a sea cloak, then she called a fine wind to sail me home.  For seventeen days I sailed, then on the eighteenth I saw the dark mountains of your land.  I leapt with joy, but too soon, Poseidon let loose one of his mighty storms: I was lost in those towering waves, my boat smashed to pieces.  I swam for it, swam and drifted until I heard the big waves beating on your coast – I had to swim back, those waves would have killed me on the rocks so I swam until I found a river mouth, a place where I could safely land.  Exhausted I crawled up that bank as the god sent night came down.  I found leaves and made shelter and then the sleep of the gods came to me.  I didn’t wake until well after noon.  When I looked around I saw your daughter’s maids playing on the beach, and there she was, like a goddess amongst them.  I asked her for help and she was so thoughtful – you don’t expect that from the young, the way they are – but she gave me bread and wine, a river bath, and these fine clothes.  There it is: a sad story but true.”
            King Alcinoos replied:
            “My friend, in one way she was wrong: you went to her first, you were her charge, she should have brought you to me.”
            Odysseus thought and then replied.  “Oh sir, no fault to her – she asked me to go with her and her maids but I held back.  I didn’t want to arrive with her and bring up suspicion or jealousy.”
            “Friend” answered Alcinoos, “I do not anger easily: moderation in all things.  But by Zeus, Apollo and Athena I would see you marry my daughter, be my son in law, take a fine house here and stay – we’d never force you to it, that would anger father Zeus.  I’ve chosen tomorrow to be our feast day and our men will take you home across the gentle sea while you sleep.  They will take you home or anywhere you like, Euboia, the ends of the world and beyond – our men have done that before and been home the same day.  You will see how these boats are the best and how my young men whip the waves with their oars.”
            Odysseus loved to hear this and answered with thanks:
            “Oh father Zeus, let Alcinoos make all of this happen.  Then he will have fame around the world and I will reach my home.”
            So they talked and Queen Arete sent the maids to make a bed by the porch piled with purple rugs, with fine sheets and coverings – the girls carrying torches went to their work and when they came back they whispered in Odysseus’ ear.  “Oh sir, your bed is ready.”
            For Odysseus, how sweet the word “bed” and he slept there while within the palace Alcinoos slept with his wife.