Book XI

But when at last we had come down to our ship and the sea, first we dragged the vessel into the shining water, stepped the mast and made fast the sail on the black ship, took up the sheep and drove them aboard, then ourselves went on board, grieving, shedding warm tears. And from behind our dark-prowed ship, to speed us, fair-tressed Circe sent a following wind, a good companion, a sail-filling breeze — the dread goddess of human speech.

When we had secured all the gear throughout the ship, we sat; and the wind and helmsman steered her. All day long her sail was stretched as she ran over the sea; and the sun set, and all the paths grew dark. She came to the boundaries of deep-flowing Ocean, where lie the land and city of the Cimmerian men, shrouded in mist and cloud.

Never upon them does the shining sun look down with his rays, not when he climbs the starry heavens, nor when he turns again from heaven to earth, but over wretched mortals deadly night is spread. There we beached our ship and took out the sheep, and we ourselves went along the stream of Ocean until we reached the spot that Circe had described.

There Perimedes and Eurylochus held the victims; I drew the sharp sword from beside my thigh and dug a pit, a cubit’s length this way and that, and poured around it a drink-offering to all the dead — first with milk and honey, then with sweet wine, then a third time with water, and sprinkled white barley over it. I made many prayers to the powerless heads of the dead, vowing that when I came to Ithaca I would sacrifice in my halls the best barren heifer, and heap the pyre with rich gifts, and for Teiresias alone I would slaughter a ram all black, the finest of our flocks.

When I had prayed and besought with vows the races of the dead, I took the sheep and cut their throats over the pit, and the dark blood flowed. And from out of Erebus gathered the souls of those who had died. Brides, youths, and long-suffering old men, tender maidens with grief fresh in their hearts, and many gashed by bronze-tipped spears, men slain in war, wearing blood-stained armour — they flocked around the pit from every side with an eerie wailing;

and green fear took hold of me. Then I called urgently to my comrades and commanded them to flay the sheep that lay there, killed by the pitiless bronze, and to burn them and pray to the gods, to mighty Hades and revered Persephone. But I myself drew the sharp sword from beside my thigh and sat, holding back the powerless heads of the dead from drawing near the blood until I had questioned Teiresias.

First came the soul of my companion Elpenor, for he had not yet been buried under the broad earth. We had left his body in Circe’s hall, unwept and unburied, because another labour pressed us. When I saw him I wept and pitied him from my heart, and spoke to him, addressing him with winged words: ‘Elpenor, how did you come beneath the murky darkness?

You came faster on foot than I in my black ship.’ So I spoke, and he, groaning, answered me: ‘Zeus-born son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus, a god’s evil doom destroyed me, and measureless wine. Lying on Circe’s roof I did not think to go down again by the long ladder, but fell headlong from the roof; my neck broke at the spine, and my soul went down to Hades.

Now I beseech you by those you left behind, who are not here — by your wife and the father who reared you from a child, and by Telemachus, your only son left in your halls — for I know that when you go from here, from the house of Hades, you will put in with your well-built ship at the island of Aeaea; there then, my lord, I ask you to remember me.

Do not leave me unwept, unburied when you sail away, and turn aside, lest I become a cause of the gods’ wrath; but burn me with all the armour that is mine, and heap a mound for me on the shore of the grey sea, a memorial for an unlucky man, for those yet to be to learn of. Do this for me, and fix my oar upright upon the tomb, the oar with which I rowed while I lived among my comrades.’ So he spoke, and I, answering him, said: ‘Unhappy man, all this I will accomplish and carry out.’ So we two sat there exchanging sad words, I, some way off, holding my sword over the blood, and the phantom of my companion spoke much from the other side.

Then came the soul of my dead mother, Anticleia, daughter of great-hearted Autolycus, whom I had left alive when I went to sacred Ilium. When I saw her I wept and pitied her from my heart, but still, despite my sharp grief, I would not let her draw near the blood before I had questioned Teiresias. Then came the soul of Theban Teiresias, holding a golden sceptre;

he knew me and spoke: ‘Zeus-born son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus, why, wretched man, have you left the light of the sun and come here to see the dead and this joyless place? Draw back from the pit and turn aside your sharp sword so that I may drink the blood and tell you truth.’ So he spoke, and I stepped back and thrust the silver-studded sword into its sheath.

And when he had drunk the dark blood, then the blameless seer addressed me: ‘You seek a sweet return, glorious Odysseus, but a god will make it hard for you. I do not think you will escape the Earth-shaker, who has laid wrath in his heart against you, angry because you blinded his dear son. Yet even so, through many sufferings, you may still reach home, if you are willing to restrain your own heart and your comrades’ when you first bring your well-built ship to the island of Thrinacia, having escaped the violet sea, and you find grazing there the cattle and sturdy sheep of Helios, who sees all things and hears all things.

If you leave these unharmed and keep your mind on returning, then after further suffering you may still come to Ithaca; but if you harm them, then I foretell destruction for your ship and your comrades. And if you yourself escape, you will return home late, in misery, having lost all your comrades, on a foreign ship, and you will find troubles in your house — overbearing men who devour your livelihood, wooing your godlike wife and offering bride-gifts.

You will pay back their violence when you come; but when you have killed the suitors in your halls, whether by cunning or openly with sharp bronze, take a well-shaped oar and set out again, until you come to men who do not know the sea, who eat no food mixed with salt, who know nothing of red-cheeked ships or well-shaped oars that are like wings to vessels.

I will give you a very clear sign, and you will not miss it: when another traveller meets you and says that you carry a winnowing-fan on your sturdy shoulder, then fix your well-shaped oar in the earth, make fine offerings to lord Poseidon — a ram, a bull, and a boar that mounts sows — and go home and offer sacred hecatombs to the immortal gods who hold broad heaven, to all of them in due order.

And death will come to you from the sea, a gentle death indeed, one that will slay you worn out in sleek old age; and around you your people will be prosperous. All this I tell you truly.’ So he spoke, and I, answering him, said: ‘Teiresias, the gods themselves have spun these fates. But come, tell me this, and declare it plainly: I see here the soul of my dead mother;

she sits silent near the blood, and has not the heart to look her own son in the face or to speak to him. Tell me, my lord, how she may know me for who I am.’ So I spoke, and he answered me at once: ‘Easy is the word I shall speak and lay upon your mind. Whichever of the dead you allow to come near the blood will give you true answers;

but the one you grudge will go back again from you.’ So the soul of lord Teiresias went into the house of Hades, having spoken his prophecies. But I remained there firmly, until my mother came and drank the dark blood. At once she knew me, and with lamentation addressed me with winged words: ‘My child, how did you come beneath the murky darkness while still alive?

Hard is it for the living to look upon these things, for between us lie great rivers and terrible streams — Ocean first of all, which no one can cross on foot unless he has a well-built ship. Have you come here from Troy after long wandering with your ship and your companions? And have you not yet reached Ithaca, or seen your wife in your halls?’ So she spoke, and I, answering her, said: ‘My mother, necessity brought me down to Hades to consult the soul of Theban Teiresias.

For I have not yet come near Achaea, nor have I set foot on my own land, but I wander constantly in misery, ever since I first followed noble Agamemnon to Ilium of the fine horses, to fight against the Trojans. But come, tell me this, and declare it plainly: what doom of long-bringing death subdued you? Was it a lingering disease, or did Artemis, the archer, visit you with her gentle shafts and slay you?

Tell me of my father and my son, whom I left behind — does my honour still stay with them, or does some other man already hold it, while they say I shall no longer return? Tell me the mind and thought of my wedded wife — does she remain with my son and guard all things steadfastly, or has the best of the Achaeans already married her?’ So I spoke, and my lady mother answered me at once: ‘She, indeed, waits with an enduring heart in your halls;

always her wretched nights and days waste away as she sheds tears. Your good place no one yet holds, but Telemachus manages your estates undisturbed and shares in equal banquets, such as it befits a man who judges to provide; for all men invite him. But your father stays there in the country, and does not come down to the city.

He has no bed piled with covers and cloaks and shining blankets, but in winter he sleeps where the slaves sleep in the house, in the dust by the fire, and wears wretched clothes on his body. But when summer comes and harvest flourishes, all around him on the sloping ground of the vineyard beds of fallen leaves lie, strewn low.

There he lies grieving, and in his heart he nurtures great sorrow longing for your return; and harsh old age comes upon him. For in this way I too perished and met my fate: not in my halls did the sharp-sighted archer goddess visit me with her gentle shafts and slay me, nor did any sickness come upon me, such as most often robs the limbs of their life with hateful wasting;

but it was my longing for you, and your counsels, glorious Odysseus, and your gentleness that stole my sweet life away.’ So she spoke, and I pondered in my heart, wanting to clasp the soul of my dead mother. Three times I started forward, my heart urging me to hold her, and three times from my arms, like a shadow or a dream, she flew away.

And sharp grief grew ever greater in my heart, and I addressed her with winged words: ‘My mother, why do you not stay for me, eager as I am to hold you, so that even in Hades we might throw our dear arms around each other and take our fill of chill lamentation? Or is this mere phantom that holy Persephone sends me, so that I may groan and grieve the more?’ So I spoke, and my lady mother answered me at once: ‘Oh my child, most ill-fated of all men, it is not Persephone, daughter of Zeus, who deceives you, but this is the appointed way for mortals when they die: the sinews no longer hold flesh and bones together, but the strong might of blazing fire consumes them, once the spirit has left the white bones, and the soul, like a dream, flies fluttering away.

But strive with all speed to reach the light, and remember these things, so that you may tell them later to your wife.’ So we two exchanged words together, and the women came, for holy Persephone impelled them, all those who had been the wives and daughters of heroes. They gathered in throngs around the dark blood, and I deliberated how I might question each one.

And this seemed to me the best plan in my heart: I drew the long sword from beside my stout thigh and would not let them all drink the dark blood at once. So they came forward one by one, and each one declared her lineage; I questioned them all. There first I saw Tyro of noble birth, who said she was the daughter of blameless Salmoneus, and said she was the wife of Cretheus, son of Aeolus.

She loved the divine river Enipeus, who is far the fairest of rivers that flow upon the earth, and she would walk beside the beautiful streams of Enipeus. Taking his form, the Earth-holder, the Earth-shaker, lay with her at the outpourings of the whirling river; and a dark wave, mountain-high, arching over, enveloped them, hiding the god and the mortal woman. He loosed her virgin girdle and shed sleep upon her

. But when the god had finished the works of love, he took her hand and spoke to her and called her name: ‘Rejoice, woman, in our love. As the year turns, you will bear glorious children, for the embraces of the immortals are not fruitless. Tend them and rear them. Now go to your home, and hold back, and do not name me;

but I tell you I am Poseidon, the Earth-shaker.’ So saying, he sank beneath the heaving sea. And she conceived and bore Pelias and Neleus, who both became mighty servants of great Zeus; Pelias dwelt in spacious Iolcus, rich in flocks, and the other in sandy Pylos. And the queen of women bore other children to Cretheus: Aeson, and Pheres, and Amythaon, the chariot-fighter.

After her I saw Antiope, daughter of Asopus, who boasted that she had lain in the arms of Zeus, and she bore two sons, Amphion and Zethus, who first founded the seat of seven-gated Thebes and built its towers, for without towers they could not dwell in spacious Thebes, powerful though they were. After her I saw Alcmena, the wife of Amphitryon, who, joined in love with mighty Zeus, bore Heracles, bold-hearted, lion-spirited;

and Megara, daughter of proud-hearted Creon, whom the son of Amphitryon, whose strength was never tired, wedded. I saw the mother of Oedipus, beautiful Epicaste, who did a monstrous deed in the ignorance of her mind: she married her own son; and he, after slaying his father, married her. And the gods soon made it known among men.

Yet he, enduring sorrows in lovely Thebes, ruled the Cadmeans through the deadly counsels of the gods; but she went down to the house of Hades the mighty gatekeeper, having tied a high noose to the lofty roof-beam, overwhelmed by her anguish. And to him she left behind many sorrows, all that the Furies of a mother bring to pass.

I saw beautiful Chloris, whom once Neleus wedded because of her beauty, when he gave countless bride-gifts, the youngest daughter of Amphion, son of Iasus, who once ruled mightily in Minyan Orchomenus. She was queen of Pylos and bore him splendid children: Nestor, Chromius, and lordly Periclymenus. And after these she bore mighty Pero, a wonder to mortals, whom all the neighbouring people courted. But Neleus would give her to no one who could not drive off the broad-browed, spiral-horned cattle from Phylace, the hard-ones of the force of Iphicles. Only the blameless seer undertook to drive them off, but a harsh fate from a god bound him fast — cruel bonds and the rustic herdsmen

. But when the months and days were completed, as the year renewed itself and the seasons came around, then the force of Iphicles released him, after he had spoken all the oracles; and Zeus’s will was fulfilled. I saw Leda, the wife of Tyndareus, who bore to Tyndareus two stout-hearted sons, Castor the horse-tamer and Polydeuces skilled in boxing, whom the life-giving earth covers, yet both alive.

And even under the earth they hold honour from Zeus: they live one day, and on the next day they die; and they have obtained a portion of honour equal to gods. After her I beheld Iphimedeia, the wife of Aloeus, who boasted that she had lain with Poseidon, and she bore two sons, but they were short-lived — Otus, godlike, and far-famed Ephialtes, whom the grain-giving earth nourished as the tallest men, and far the fairest after renowned Orion.

For at nine years old they measured nine cubits in breadth, and in height they were nine fathoms tall. They even threatened the immortals on Olympus to bring the din of furious battle against them. They strove to set Ossa upon Olympus, and upon Ossa Pelion with its waving trees, so that heaven might be scaled. And they would have accomplished it if they had reached the measure of youth;

but the son of Zeus, whom fair-haired Leto bore, destroyed them both before the down blossomed beneath their temples and covered their chins with fresh beard. I saw Phaedra, and Procris, and beautiful Ariadne, the daughter of baleful Minos, whom Theseus once was carrying from Crete to the hill of sacred Athens, but he gained no joy of her;

before that Artemis slew her on sea-girt Dia because of the witness of Dionysus. I saw Maera, and Clymene, and hateful Eriphyle, who took precious gold as the price of her dear husband. But I could not tell or name all the women whom I saw, the wives and daughters of heroes; for before that the immortal night would come to its end.

And now it is time to sleep, either going to the swift ship and my comrades, or here. My sending onward will be the gods’ care and yours.’ So he spoke, and they all fell silent in stillness, held spellbound throughout the shadowy hall. Then white-armed Arete began speaking to them: ‘Phaeacians, how does this man seem to you in looks and stature, and in the balanced mind within?

He is my guest, yet each of you shares in this honour. Do not send him away in haste, nor stint the gifts for one who stands in such need. For great store of possessions lies in your halls through the gods’ favour.’ Then the old hero Echeneus addressed them, he who was the oldest man among the Phaeacians: ‘Friends, the wise queen does not speak beside the mark or contrary to our judgment.

So be persuaded. But the deed and word rest with Alcinous here.’ Then Alcinous answered him and said: ‘This word indeed shall hold, so long as I live and rule over the oar-loving Phaeacians. But let the stranger, much though he longs for his return, bear to wait until tomorrow, until I complete the whole gift. Their sending will be the care of all men, most of all mine;

for mine is the power among the people.’ Then resourceful Odysseus addressed him in answer: ‘Lord Alcinous, most renowned among all peoples, if you should bid me remain here even for a year, and should speed my sending and give me splendid gifts, I would wish it that way; it would be far better to reach my dear homeland with a fuller hand.

I would be more respected and more loved among all men who might look upon me returning to Ithaca.’ Then Alcinous answered him and said: ‘Odysseus, when we look at you, we do not at all judge that you are a liar and a cheat, like the many whom the black earth feeds, men scattered everywhere, weaving falsehoods from sources one cannot see.

But upon you is a grace of words, and within you are noble thoughts. You have told your story with skill, like a bard, the sorrowful tales of all the Argives and of yourself. But come, tell me this, and declare it plainly: did you see any of your godlike comrades who went with you to Ilium and met their fate there? This night is very long, boundless;

it is not yet the hour for sleep in the hall. Tell me more of your wondrous deeds. I could even hold out until divine dawn, if you would endure to recount your sorrows to me in the hall.’ Then resourceful Odysseus answered him and said: ‘Lord Alcinous, most renowned among all peoples, there is a time for many stories, and a time for sleep.

But if you still long to hear more, I would not grudge to tell you of other things even more pitiful — the sorrows of my comrades who perished later, who escaped the mournful uproar of the Trojans but died on the return journey through the will of an evil woman. Now when holy Persephone had scattered the souls of the tender women this way and that, there came the soul of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, grieving;

and around him gathered all the others who died with him in Aegisthus’s house and met their fate. He knew me at once, when he had drunk the dark blood, and he wept aloud, shedding warm tears, stretching his hands toward me, longing to reach me, but he no longer had any firm strength or vigour, such as of old was in his pliant limbs.

When I saw him I wept and pitied him from my heart, and I addressed him with winged words: ‘Most glorious son of Atreus, lord of men Agamemnon, what doom of long-bringing death subdued you? Did Poseidon overwhelm you on your ships by rousing the wretched blast of cruel winds? Or did hostile men slay you on land while you were cutting off cattle and fair flocks of sheep, or fighting for a city and its women?’ So I spoke, and he answered me at once: ‘Zeus-born son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus, it was not Poseidon who overwhelmed me on my ships by rousing the wretched blast of cruel winds, nor did hostile men slay me on land, but Aegisthus planned death and doom for me and killed me with my accursed wife — having invited me to his house, feasted me, as one slays an ox at the crib.

So I died by a most pitiful death. Around me my other companions were slaughtered without pause, like white-tusked swine that are killed at the feast of a rich, powerful man, whether at a wedding, a communal meal, or a luxurious banquet. You have come face to face with the slaughter of many men, both when they were killed singly and in fierce battle, but you would have pitied in your heart most of all at that sight, how around the mixing bowl and the laden tables we lay in the hall, and the whole floor was steaming with blood.

But the most piteous cry I heard was that of Priam’s daughter, Cassandra, whom the guileful Clytemnestra slew while I, raising my hands earthward, was struck dying upon the sword; and the dog-faced woman turned away, and did not bring herself, though I was going to Hades, to close my eyes with her hands or to shut my mouth.

So there is nothing more terrible and shameless than a woman who puts such deeds in her heart; such a monstrous act as she contrived, plotting murder for her wedded husband. Indeed I thought that I would return home welcomed by my children and servants, but she, with utterly evil knowledge, poured shame on herself and on all women to come, even on the one who is virtuous.’ So he spoke, and I, answering him, said: ‘Alas!

In truth, wide-seeing Zeus has hated the race of Atreus from the first, through women’s counsels. For Helen’s sake many of us perished; and for you, Clytemnestra wove a plot while you were far away.’ So I spoke, and he answered me at once: ‘Therefore, never be gentle even to your wife; do not tell her all that you know in your mind, but say one thing, and keep another hidden.

Yet for you, Odysseus, no murder will come from your wife, for the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, is very prudent and of good understanding. We left her a young bride when we set out for the war; and she had an infant boy at her breast, who now, I think, sits among the throng of men, happy. For his dear father will see him when he comes home, and he will embrace his father, as is proper.

But my wife did not even let me fill my eyes with the sight of my son; before that she slew even me. And I will tell you another thing — lay it in your heart: bring your ship to your dear native land secretly, not openly, because there is no longer any trust in women. But come, tell me this, and declare it plainly: do you hear anything anywhere of my son still living, whether in Orchomenus, or in sandy Pylos, or perhaps at great Menelaus’s side in wide Sparta?

For noble Orestes has not yet died upon the earth.’ So he spoke, and I, answering him, said: ‘Son of Atreus, why do you ask me this? I know nothing whether he lives or is dead; and it is folly to speak idle words.’ So we two stood there exchanging sad words, grieving, shedding warm tears. And then came the soul of Peleus’ son, Achilles, and of Patroclus and blameless Antilochus, and Ajax, who was the best in looks and stature of the other Danaans after the blameless son of Peleus.

And the soul of the swift-footed grandson of Aeacus knew me, and with lamentation addressed me with winged words: ‘Zeus-born son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus, stubborn man, what greater deed will you devise in your heart? How did you dare to come down to Hades, where the senseless dead dwell, the phantoms of worn-out mortals?’ So he spoke, and I, answering him, said: ‘Achilles, son of Peleus, far the mightiest of the Achaeans, I came because of a need to see Teiresias, in case he might give some counsel by which I might reach rocky Ithaca.

For I have not yet come near Achaea, nor set foot on my own land, but I suffer endless trouble. But Achilles, no man in the past was more blessed than you, nor ever will be. Before, when you were alive, we Argives honoured you as equal to gods; now, as you are here, you hold great power over the dead. Therefore, do not grieve at all at dying, Achilles.’ So I spoke, and he answered me at once: ‘Do not try to comfort me about death, glorious Odysseus.

I would rather be a hired labourer on the land of another, a man with no inheritance and little means of life, than rule as king over all the perished dead. But come, tell me some word of my noble son — did he follow to the war to be a front-fighter, or did he not? Tell me also of blameless Peleus, if you have heard anything: does he still hold honour among the many Myrmidons, or do they dishonour him throughout Hellas and Phthia, because old age restrains his hands and feet?

For I am not there under the sun’s rays to help him, being such as once I was in broad Troy, when I slew the best of the host, defending the Argives. If for a little while I could come like that to my father’s house, I would terrify some with my might and my invincible hands, those who abuse him and keep him from his honour.’ So he spoke, and I, answering him, said: ‘Indeed, I have heard nothing of blameless Peleus; but concerning your dear son Neoptolemus I will tell the whole truth, as you bid me. For I myself brought him from Scyros in a hollow, balanced ship to join the well-greaved Achaeans. Indeed, whenever we debated counsels around the city of Troy, he was always the first to speak and never failed in his words; only godlike Nestor and I were his superiors

. But when we fought on the plain of the Trojans with bronze, he never stayed among the throng of men or in the crowd, but ran far ahead, yielding to no one in his fury, and he slew many men in dread combat. I could not tell or name all the men, the host he slew while defending the Argives, but what a man he was when he killed with the bronze the hero Eurypylus, son of Telephus, and around him many comrades, the Ceteians, were slain for the sake of a woman’s gifts.

He was the fairest man I saw after noble Memnon. And when we, the best of the Argives, went down into the horse that Epeius made, and all was entrusted to me, both to open and to shut the packed ambush, there the other leaders and lords of the Danaans wiped away tears, and the limbs of each one trembled; but him I never at any time saw with my eyes turn pale his fair skin, or wiping tears from his cheeks. He kept begging me to let him out of the horse, groping for his sword-hilt and heavy-bronze spear, longing to harm the Trojans

. But when we had sacked Priam’s steep city, he went aboard his ship with his share and a fine prize, unwounded, neither hit by sharp bronze nor stabbed in close combat, as often happens in war, where Ares rages indiscriminately.’ So I spoke, and the soul of the swift-footed grandson of Aeacus went striding away with long steps over the asphodel meadow, rejoicing because I had said his son was renowned.

The other souls of the perished dead stood grieving, each one asking about her sorrows. Only the soul of Telamonian Ajax stood apart, angry because of the victory that I had won over him in the contest by the ships for the arms of Achilles. The revered mother of Achilles set the prize; and the boys of the Trojans and Pallas Athena were the judges.

How I wish I had not won in such a contest, for over the sake of those arms the earth has covered such a head — Ajax, who surpassed in looks and in deeds all the other Danaans after the blameless son of Peleus. I addressed him with gentle words: ‘Ajax, son of blameless Telamon, will you not, even in death, forget your anger against me because of those accursed arms?

The gods made them a bane to the Argives, for you, such a tower, perished because of them. For you, we Achaeans mourn ceaselessly as for the head of Achilles, Peleus’ son; and no one else is to blame, but Zeus, who terribly hated the army of the Danaan spearmen, and laid your doom upon you. But come here, lord, that you may hear my words and speech;

master your might and your proud heart.’ So I spoke, and he gave me no answer, but went away to Erebus with the other souls of the perished dead. And there, angry though he was, he might still have spoken to me, or I to him, but my heart within my breast desired to see the souls of the other dead. There I saw Minos, the glorious son of Zeus, holding a golden sceptre and delivering judgments to the dead, seated; and they, sitting and standing, asked for judgments from the king throughout the wide-gated house of Hades. After him I noticed monstrous Orion herding wild beasts together over the asphodel meadow, the beasts he himself had killed on the lonely mountains, holding in his hands a club of solid bronze, never broken

. And I saw Tityus, the son of renowned Earth, lying on the ground; he stretched over nine roods, and two vultures, one on each side, sat tearing his liver, plunging into the caul, and he could not drive them off with his hands; for he had assaulted Leto, the renowned consort of Zeus, as she was going to Pytho through broad-dancing Panopeus

. And I saw Tantalus enduring bitter pains, standing in a pool; the water came up to his chin. He stood there thirsting, yet could not get a drink, for every time the old man stooped, eager to drink, the water was swallowed up and disappeared, and around his feet black earth appeared; a god dried it up. And tall trees dangled their fruit above his head, pears and pomegranates and apple-trees with shining fruit, sweet figs and olives in full bloom. Whenever the old man reached up his hands to touch them, the wind tossed them away to the shadowy clouds

. And I saw Sisyphus enduring bitter pains, lifting a monstrous boulder with both hands. He would brace himself with hands and feet and thrust the stone uphill to the crest; but whenever he was about to heave it over the top, a mighty force would turn it back; then again the shameless stone rolled down to the plain. But he would heave it once more, straining, and sweat poured down his limbs, and dust flew up around his head.

After him I noticed the might of Heracles — his phantom; for he himself among the immortal gods rejoices in feasts and holds as wife the fair-ankled Hebe, daughter of great Zeus and golden-sandaled Hera. Around him arose a clamour of the dead, like birds fleeing every way in terror. And he, like black night, holding his bow bare and an arrow on the string, glaring terribly, ever like one about to shoot.

Fearful was the golden belt across his chest, worn over his shoulders, where wondrous works were fashioned — bears, wild boars, and fierce-eyed lions, strife and battles and slaughters and manslayings. May he who crafted that belt never craft another, the one who set that marvellous band upon him. He knew me at once, when he saw me with his eyes, and with lamentation addressed me with winged words: ‘Zeus-born son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus, poor wretch, are you also toiling after some evil fate, the kind that I bore under the rays of the sun?

I was a son of Zeus, son of Cronus, but I had endless misery; for I was subjected to a far lesser man, who imposed hard labours on me. And once he sent me here to bring the hound; for he thought there was no other struggle mightier than this for me. Yet I brought the dog up and carried it out of Hades; and Hermes and sharp-eyed Athena guided me.’ So saying, he went back inside the house of Hades, and I remained there firmly, in case any other of the heroes of old, who had perished before, should come.

And I would yet have seen earlier men whom I longed to see, Theseus and Peirithous, the glorious children of gods, but before that, ten thousand nations of the dead gathered with a monstrous din; and green fear seized me, lest holy Persephone should send against me from Hades the Gorgon-head of some terrible monster. At once I went to the ship and commanded my comrades themselves to embark and to cast off the stern cables. They quickly went aboard and took their seats on the benches. And the ship was borne along the river Oceanus by the wave of the stream, first under oars, and then a fair breeze followed.