# The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer (Cowper)/Volume 2/The Odyssey/Book V

ARGUMENT
OF THE
FIFTH BOOK
Mercury bears to Calypso a command from Jupiter that she dismiss Ulysses. She, after some remonstrances, promises obedience, and furnishes him with instruments and materials, with which he constructs a raft. He quits Calypso's island; is persecuted by Neptune with dreadful tempests, but by the assistance of a sea nymph, after having lost his raft, is enabled to swim to Phæacia.
BOOK V.
Aurora from beside her glorious mate Tithonus now arose, light to dispense Through earth and heav'n, when the assembled Gods In council sat, o'er whom high-thund'ring Jove Presided, mightiest of the Pow'rs above. 5 Amid them, Pallas on the num'rous woes Descanted of Ulysses, whom she saw With grief, still prison'd in Calypso's isle. Jove, Father, hear me, and ye other Pow'rs Who live for ever, hear! Be never King 10 Henceforth to gracious acts inclined, humane, Or righteous, but let ev'ry sceptred hand
Rule merciless, and deal in wrong alone, Since none of all his people whom he sway’d With such paternal gentleness and love 15 Remembers, now, divine Ulysses more. He, in yon distant isle a suff’rer lies Of hopeless sorrow, through constraint the guest Still of the nymph Calypso, without means Or pow’r to reach his native shores again, 20 Alike of gallant barks and friends depriv’d, Who might conduct him o’er the spacious Deep. Nor is this all, but enemies combine To slay his son ere yet he can return From Pylus, whither he hath gone to learn 25 There, or in Sparta, tidings of his Sire. To whom the cloud-assembler God replied. What word hath pass’d thy lips, daughter belov’d? Hast thou not purpos’d that arriving soon At home, Ulysses shall destroy his foes? 30 Guide thou, Telemachus, (for well thou canst) That he may reach secure his native coast, And that the suitors baffled may return. He ceas’d, and thus to Hermes spake, his son. Hermes! (for thou art herald of our will 35 At all times) to yon bright-hair’d nymph convey Our fix’d resolve, that brave Ulysses thence Depart, uncompanied by God or man. Borne on a corded raft, and suff’ring woe Extreme, he on the twentieth day shall reach, 40
Not sooner, Scherie the deep-soil'd, possess'd By the Phæacians, kinsmen of the Gods. They, as a God shall reverence the Chief, And in a bark of theirs shall send him thence To his own home, much treasure, brass and gold 45 And raiment giving him, to an amount Surpassing all that, had he safe return'd, He should by lot have shared of Ilium's spoil. Thus Fate appoints Ulysses to regain His country, his own palace, and his friends. 50 He ended, nor the Argicide refused, Messenger of the skies; his sandals fair, Ambrosial, golden, to his feet he bound, Which o'er the moist wave, rapid as the wind, Bear him, and o'er th' illimitable earth, 55 Then took his rod with which, at will, all eyes He closes soft, or opes them wide again. So arm'd, forth flew the valiant Argicide. Alighting on Pieria, down he stoop'd To Ocean, and the billows lightly skimm'd 60 In form a sew-mew, such as in the bays Tremendous of the barren Deep her food Seeking, dips oft in brine her ample wing. In such disguise o'er many a wave he rode, But reaching, now, that isle remote, forsook 65 The azure Deep, and at the spacious grot, Where dwelt the amber-tressed nymph arrived, Found her within. A fire on all the hearth
Blazed sprightly, and, afar-diffused, the scent Of smooth-split cedar and of cypress-wood 70 Odorous, burning, cheer'd the happy isle. She, busied at the loom, and plying fast Her golden shuttle, with melodious voice Sat chaunting there; a grove on either side, Alder and poplar, and the redolent branch 75 Wide-spread of Cypress, skirted dark the cave. There many a bird of broadest pinion built Secure her nest, the owl, the kite, and daw Long-tongued, frequenter of the sandy shores. A garden-vine luxuriant on all sides 80 Mantled the spacious cavern, cluster-hung Profuse; four fountains of serenest lymph Their sinuous course pursuing side by side, Stray'd all around, and ev'ry where appear'd Meadows of softest verdure, purpled o'er 85 With violets; it was a scene to fill A God from heav'n with wonder and delight. Hermes, Heav'n's messenger, admiring stood That sight, and having all survey'd, at length Enter'd the grotto; nor the lovely nymph 90 Him knew not soon as seen, for not unknown Each to the other the Immortals are, How far soever sep'rate their abodes. Yet found he not within the mighty Chief Ulysses; he sat weeping on the shore, 95 Forlorn, for there his custom was with groans
Of sad regret t' afflict his breaking heart. Looking continual o'er the barren Deep. Then thus Calypso, nymph divine, the God Question'd, from her resplendent throne august. 100 Hermes! possessor of the potent rod! Who, though by me much reverenc'd and belov'd, So seldom com'st, say, wherefore comest now? Speak thy desire; I grant it, if thou ask Things possible, and possible to me. 105 Stay not, but ent'ring farther, at my board Due rites of hospitality receive. So saying, the Goddess with ambrosial food Her table cover'd, and with rosy juice Nectareous charged the cup. Then ate and drank 110 The argicide and herald of the skies, And in his soul with that repast divine Refresh'd, his message to the nymph declared. Questionest thou, O Goddess, me a God? I tell thee truth, since such is thy demand. 115 Not willing, but by Jove constrain'd, I come. For who would, voluntary, such a breadth Enormous measure of the salt expanse, Where city none is seen in which the Gods Are served with chosen hecatombs and pray'r? 120 But no divinity may the designs Elude, or controvert, of Jove supreme. He saith, that here thou hold'st the most distrest Of all those warriors who nine years assail'd
The city of Priam, and, (that city sack'd) 125 Departed in the tenth; but, going thence, Offended Pallas, who with adverse winds Opposed their voyage, and with boist'rous waves. Then perish'd all his gallant friends, but him Billows and storms drove hither; Jove commands 130 That thou dismiss him hence without delay, For fate ordains him not to perish here From all his friends remote, but he is doom'd To see them yet again, and to arrive At his own palace in his native land. 135 He said; divine Calypso at the sound Shudder'd, and in wing'd accents thus replied. Ye are unjust, ye Gods, and envious past All others, grudging if a Goddess take A mortal man openly to her arms! 140 So, when the rosy-finger'd Morning chose Orion, though ye live yourselves at ease, Yet ye all envied her, until the chaste Diana from her golden throne dispatch'd A silent shaft, which slew him in Ortygia. 145 So, when the golden-tressed Ceres, urged By passion, took Iäsion to her arms In a thrice-labour'd fallow, not untaught Was Jove that secret long, and, hearing it, Indignant, slew him with his candent bolt. 150 So also, O ye Gods, ye envy me The mortal man, my comfort. Him I saved
Myself, while solitary on his keel He rode, for with his sulph'rous arrow Jove Had cleft his bark amid the sable Deep. 155 Then perish'd all his gallant friends, but him Billows and storms drove hither, whom I lov'd Sincere, and fondly destin'd to a life Immortal, unobnoxious to decay. But since no Deity may the designs 160 Elude or controvert of Jove supreme, Hence with him o'er the barren Deep, if such The Sov'reign's will, and such his stern command. But undismiss'd he goes by me, who ships Myself well-oar'd and mariners have none 165 To send with him athwart the spacious flood; Yet freely, readily, my best advice I will afford him, that, escaping all Danger, he may regain his native shore. Then Hermes thus, the messenger of heav'n. 170 Act as thou say'st, fearing the frown of Jove, Lest, if provoked, he spare not even thee. So saying, the dauntless Argicide withdrew, And she (Jove's mandate heard) all-graceful went, Seeking the brave Ulysses; on the shore 175 She found him seated; tears succeeding tears Delug'd his eyes, while, hopeless of return, Life's precious hours to eating cares he gave Continual, with the nymph now charm'd no more. Yet, cold as she was am'rous, still he pass'd 180
His nights beside her in the hollow grot, Constrain'd, and day by day the rocks among Which lined the shore heart-broken sat, and oft While wistfully he eyed the barren Deep, Wept, groaned, desponded, sigh'd, and wept again. 185 Then, drawing near, thus spake the nymph divine. Unhappy! weep not here, nor life consume In anguish; go; thou hast my glad consent. Arise to labour; hewing down the trunks Of lofty trees, fashion them with the ax 190 To a broad raft, which closely floor'd above, Shall hence convey thee o'er the gloomy Deep. Bread, water, and the red grape's cheering juice Myself will put on board, which shall preserve Thy life from famine; I will also give 195 New raiment for thy limbs, and will dispatch Winds after thee to waft thee home unharm'd, If such the pleasure of the Gods who dwell In yonder boundless heav'n, superior far To me, in knowledge and in skill to judge. 200 She ceas'd; but horror at that sound the heart Chill'd of Ulysses, and in accents wing'd With wonder, thus the noble Chief replied. Ah! other thoughts than of my safe return Employ thee, Goddess, now, who bid'st me pass 205 The perilous gulph of Ocean on a raft, That wild expanse terrible, which even ships Pass not, though form'd to cleave their way with ease,
And joyful in propitious winds from Jove. No—let me never, in despight of thee, 210 Embark on board a raft, nor till thou swear, O Goddess! the inviolable oath, That future mischief thou intend'st me none. He said; Calypso, beauteous Goddess, smiled, And, while she spake, stroaking his cheek, replied. 215 Thou dost asperse me rudely, and excuse Of ignorance hast none, far better taught; What words were these? How could'st thou thus reply? Now hear me Earth, and the wide Heav'n above! Hear, too, ye waters of the Stygian stream 220 Under the earth (by which the blessed Gods Swear trembling, and revere the awful oath!) That future mischief I intend thee none. No, my designs concerning thee are such As, in an exigence resembling thine, 225 Myself, most sure, should for myself conceive. I have a mind more equal, not of steel My heart is form'd, but much to pity inclined. So saying, the lovely Goddess with swift pace Led on, whose footsteps he as swift pursued. 230 Within the vaulted cavern they arrived, The Goddess and the man; on the same throne Ulysses sat, whence Hermes had aris'n, And viands of all kinds, such as sustain The life of mortal man, Calypso placed 235 Before him, both for bev'rage and for food.
She opposite to the illustrious Chief Reposed, by her attendant maidens served With nectar and ambrosia. They their hands Stretch'd forth together to the ready feast, 240 And when nor hunger more nor thirst remain'd Unsated, thus the beauteous nymph began. Laertes' noble son, for wisdom famed And artifice! oh canst thou thus resolve To seek, incontinent, thy native shores? 245 I pardon thee. Farewell! but could'st thou guess The woes which fate ordains thee to endure Ere yet thou reach thy country, well-content Here to inhabit, thou would'st keep my grot And be immortal, howsoe'er thy wife 250 Engage thy ev'ry wish day after day. Yet can I not in stature or in form Myself suspect inferior aught to her, Since competition cannot be between Mere mortal beauties, and a form divine. 255 To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied. Awful Divinity! be not incensed. I know that my Penelope in form And stature altogether yields to thee, For she is mortal, and immortal thou, 260 From age exempt; yet not the less I wish My home, and languish daily to return. But should some God amid the sable Deep Dash me again into a wreck, my soul
Shall bear that also; for, by practice taught, 265 I have learned patience, having much endured By tempest and in battle both. Come then This evil also! I am well prepared. He ended, and the sun sinking, resign'd The earth to darkness. Then in a recess 270 Interior of the cavern, side by side Reposed, they took their amorous delight. But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn, Look'd rosy forth, Ulysses then in haste Put on his vest and mantle, and, the nymph 275 Her snowy vesture of transparent woof, Graceful, redundant; to her waist she bound Her golden zone, and veil'd her beauteous head, Then, musing, plann'd the noble Chief's return. She gave him, fitted to the grasp, an ax 280 Of iron, pond'rous, double-edg'd, with haft Of olive-wood, inserted firm, and wrought With curious art. Then, placing in his hand A polish'd adze, she led, herself, the way To her isles' utmost verge, where tallest trees 285 But dry long since and sapless stood, which best Might serve his purposes, as buoyant most, The alder, poplar, and cloud-piercing fir. To that tall grove she led and left him there, Seeking her grot again. Then slept not He, 290 But, swinging with both hands the ax, his task Soon finish'd; trees full twenty to the ground
He cast, which, dext'rous, with his adze he smooth'd, The knotted surface chipping by a line. Meantime the lovely Goddess to his aid 295 Sharp augres brought, with which he bored the beams, Then, side by side placing them, fitted each To other, and with long cramps join'd them all. Broad as an artist, skill'd in naval works, The bottom of a ship of burthen spreads, 300 Such breadth Ulysses to his raft assign'd. He deck'd her over with long planks, upborne On massy beams; He made the mast, to which He added suitable the yard;—he framed Rudder and helm to regulate her course, 305 With wicker-work he border'd all her length For safety, and much ballast stow'd within. Meantime, Calypso brought him for a sail Fittest materials, which he also shaped, And to his sail due furniture annex'd 310 Of cordage strong, foot-ropes, and ropes aloft, Then heav'd her down with levers to the Deep. He finish'd all his work on the fourth day, And on the fifth, Calypso, nymph divine, Dismiss'd him from her isle, but laved him first, 315 And cloath'd him in sweet-scented garments new. Two skins the Goddess also placed on board, One charg'd with crimson wine, and ampler one With water, nor a bag with food replete Forgot, nutritious, grateful to the taste, 320
Nor yet, her latest gift, a gentle gale And manageable, which Ulysses spread, Exulting, all his canvas to receive. Beside the helm he sat, steering expert, Nor sleep fell ever on his eyes that watch'd 325 Intent the Pleiads, tardy in decline Bootes, and the Bear, call'd else the Wain, Which, in his polar prison circling, looks Direct toward Orion, and alone Of these sinks never to the briny Deep. 330 That star the lovely Goddess bade him hold Continual on his left through all his course. Ten days and sev'n, he, navigating, cleav'd The brine, and on the eighteenth day, at length, The shadowy mountains of Phæacia's land 335 Descried, where nearest to his course it lay Like a broad buckler on the waves afloat. But Neptune, now returning from the land Of Ethiopia, mark'd him on his raft Skimming the billows, from the mountain-tops 340 Of distant Solyma. With tenfold wrath Inflamed that sight he view'd, his brows he shook, And thus within himself, indignant, spake. So then—new counsels in the skies, it seems, Propitious to Ulysses, have prevail'd 345 Since Æthiopia hath been my abode.
He sees Phæacia nigh, where he must leap The bound'ry of his woes; but ere that hour Arrive, I will ensure him many a groan. So saying, he grasp'd his trident, gather'd dense 350 The clouds and troubled ocean; ev'ry storm From ev'ry point he summon'd, earth and sea Darkening, and the night fell black from heav'n. The East, the South, the heavy-blowing West, And the cold North-wind clear, assail'd at once 355 His raft, and heaved on high the billowy flood. All hope, all courage, in that moment, lost, The Hero thus within himself complain'd. Wretch that I am, what destiny at last Attends me! much I fear the Goddess' words 360 All true, which threaten'd me with num'rous ills On the wide sea, ere I should reach my home. Behold them all fulfill'd! with what a storm Jove hangs the heav'ns, and agitates the Deep! The winds combined beat on me. Now I sink! 365 Thrice blest, and more than thrice, Achaia's sons At Ilium slain for the Atridæ' sake! Ah, would to heav'n that, dying, I had felt That day the stroke of fate, when me the dead Achilles guarding, with a thousand spears 370 Troy's furious host assail'd! Funereal rites I then had shared, and praise from ev'ry Greek, Whom now the most inglorious death awaits.
While thus he spake, a billow on his head Bursting impetuous, whirl’d the raft around, 375 And, dashing from his grasp the helm, himself Plunged far remote. Then came a sudden gust Of mingling winds, that in the middle snapp’d His mast, and, hurried o’er the waves afar, Both sail and sail-yard fell into the flood. 380 Long time submerged he lay, nor could with ease The violence of that dread shock surmount, Or rise to air again, so burthensome His drench’d apparel proved; but, at the last, He rose, and, rising, sputter’d from his lips 385 The brine that trickled copious from his brows. Nor, harass’d as he was, resign’d he yet His raft, but buffetting the waves aside With desp’rate efforts, seized it, and again Fast seated on the middle deck, escaped. 390 Then roll’d the raft at random in the flood, Wallowing unwieldy, toss’d from wave to wave. As when in autumn, Boreas o’er the plain Conglomerated thorns before him drives, They, tangled, to each other close adhere, 395 So her the winds drove wild about the Deep. By turns the South consign’d her to be sport For the rude North-wind, and, by turns, the East Yielded her to the worrying West a prey. But Cadmus’ beauteous daughter (Ino once, 400 Now named Leucothea) saw him; mortal erst
Was she, and trod the earth, but nymph become Of Ocean since, in honours shares divine. She mark'd his anguish, and, while toss'd he roam'd, Pitied Ulysses; from the flood, in form 405 A cormorant, she flew, and on the raft Close-corded perching, thus the Chief address'd. Alas! unhappy! how hast thou incensed So terribly the Shaker of the shores, That he pursues thee with such num'rous ills? 410 Sink thee he cannot, wish it as he may. Thus do (for I account thee not unwise) Thy garments putting off, let drive thy raft As the winds will, then, swimming, strive to reach Phæacia, where thy doom is to escape. 415 Take this. This ribbon bind beneath thy breast, Celestial texture. Thenceforth ev'ry fear Of death dismiss, and, laying once thy hands On the firm continent, unbind the zone, Which thou shalt cast far distant from the shore 420 Into the Deep, turning thy face away. So saying, the Goddess gave into his hand The wond'rous zone, and, cormorant in form, Plunging herself into the waves again Headlong, was hidden by the closing flood. 425 But still Ulysses sat perplex'd, and thus The toil-enduring Hero reason'd sad.
Alas! I tremble lest some God design T' ensnare me yet, bidding me quit the raft. But let me well beware how I obey 430 Too soon that precept, for I saw the land Of my foretold deliv'rance far remote. Thus, therefore, will I do, for such appears My wiser course. So long as yet the planks Mutual adhere, continuing on board 435 My raft, I will endure whatever woes, But when the waves shall shatter it, I will swim, My sole resource then left. While thus he mused, Neptune a billow of enormous bulk Hollow'd into an overwhelming arch 440 On high up-heaving, smote him. As the wind Tempestuous, falling on some stubble-heap, The arid straws dissipates ev'ry way, So flew the timbers. He, a single beam Bestriding, oar'd it onward with his feet, 445 As he had urged an horse. His raiment, then, Gift of Calypso, putting off, he bound His girdle on, and prone into the sea With wide-spread palms prepar'd for swimming, fell. Shore-shaker Neptune noted him; he shook 450 His awful brows, and in his heart he said, Thus, suff'ring many mis'ries roam the flood, Till thou shalt mingle with a race of men Heav'n's special favourites; yet even there Fear not that thou shalt feel thy sorrows light. 455
He said, and scourging his bright steeds, arrived At Ægæ, where his glorious palace stands. But other thoughts Minerva's mind employ'd Jove's daughter; ev'ry wind binding beside, She lull'd them, and enjoin'd them all to sleep, 460 But roused swift Boreas, and the billows broke Before Ulysses, that, deliver'd safe From a dire death, the noble Chief might mix With maritime Phæacia's sons renown'd. Two nights he wander'd, and two days, the flood 465 Tempestuous, death expecting ev'ry hour; But when Aurora, radiant-hair'd, had brought The third day to a close, then ceas'd the wind, And breathless came a calm; he, nigh at hand The shore beheld, darting acute his sight 470 Toward it, from a billow's tow'ring top. Precious as to his children seems the life Of some fond father through disease long time And pain stretch'd languid on his couch, the prey Of some vindictive Pow'r, but now, at last, 475 By gracious heav'n to ease and health restored, So grateful to Ulysses' sight appear'd Forests and hills. Impatient with his feet To press the shore, he swam; but when within Such distance as a shout may fly, he came, 480 The thunder of the sea against the rocks Then smote his ear; for hoarse the billows roar'd On the firm land, belch'd horrible abroad,
And the salt spray dimm'd all things to his view. For neither port for ships nor shelt'ring cove 485 Was there, but the rude coast a headland bluff Presented, rocks and craggy masses huge. Then, hope and strength exhausted both, deep-groan'd The Chief, and in his noble heart complain'd. Alas! though Jove hath given me to behold, 490 Unhoped, the land again, and I have pass'd, Furrowing my way, these num'rous waves, there seems No egress from the hoary flood for me. Sharp stones hem in the waters; wild the surge Raves ev'ry where; and smooth the rocks arise; 495 Deep also is the shore, on which my feet No standing gain, or chance of safe escape. What if some billow catch me from the Deep Emerging, and against the pointed rocks Dash me conflicting with its force in vain? 500 But should I, swimming, trace the coast in search Of sloping beach, haven or shelter'd creek, I fear lest, groaning, I be snatch'd again By stormy gusts into the fishy Deep, Or lest some monster of the flood receive 505 Command to seize me, of the many such By the illustrious Amphitrite bred; For that the mighty Shaker of the shores Hates me implacable, too well I know. While such discourse within himself he held, 510 A huge wave heav'd him on the rugged coast,
Where flay'd his flesh had been, and all his bones Broken together, but for the infused Good counsel of Minerva azure-eyed. With both hands suddenly he seized the rock, 515 And, groaning, clench'd it till the billow pass'd. So baffled he that wave; but yet again The refluent flood rush'd on him, and with force Resistless dash'd him far into the sea. As pebbles to the hollow polypus 520 Extracted from his stony bed, adhere, So he, the rough rocks clasping, stripp'd his hands Raw, and the billows now whelm'd him again. Then had the hapless Hero premature Perish'd, but for sagacity inspired 525 By Pallas azure-eyed. Forth from the waves Emerging, where the surf burst on the rocks, He coasted (looking landward as he swam) The shore, with hope of port or level beach. But when, still swimming, to the mouth he came 530 Of a smooth-sliding river, there he deem'd Safest th' ascent, for it was undeform'd By rocks, and shelter'd close from ev'ry wind. He felt the current, and thus, ardent, pray'd. O hear, whate'er thy name, Sov'reign, who rul'st 535 This river! at whose mouth, from all the threats Of Neptune 'scap'd, with rapture I arrive. Even the Immortal Gods the wand'rer's pray'r Respect, and such am I, who reach, at length,
Thy stream, and clasp thy knees, after long toil. 540 I am thy suppliant. Oh King! pity me. He said; the river God at once repress'd His current, and it ceas'd; smooth he prepared The way before Ulysses, and the land Vouchsafed him easy at his channel's mouth. 545 There, once again he bent for ease his limbs Both arms and knees, in conflict with the floods Exhausted; swoln his body was all o'er, And from his mouth and nostrils stream'd the brine. Breathless and speechless, and of life well nigh 550 Bereft he lay, through dreadful toil immense. But when, revived, his dissipated pow'rs He recollected, loosing from beneath His breast the zone divine, he cast it far Into the brackish stream, and a huge wave 555 Returning bore it downward to the sea, Where Ino caught it. Then, the river's brink Abandoning, among the rushes prone He lay, kiss'd oft the soil, and sighing, said, Ah me! what suff'rings must I now sustain, 560 What doom, at last, awaits me? If I watch This woeful night, here, at the river's side, What hope but that the frost and copious dews, Weak as I am, my remnant small of life Shall quite extinguish, and the chilly air 565 Breath'd from the river at the dawn of day? But if, ascending this declivity
I gain the woods, and in some thicket sleep, (If sleep indeed can find me overtoil'd And cold-benumb'd) then I have cause to fear 570 Lest I be torn by wild beasts, and devour'd. Long time he mused, but, at the last, his course Bent to the woods, which not remote he saw From the sea-brink, conspicuous on a hill. Arrived, between two neighbour shrubs he crept, 575 Both olives, this the fruitful, that the wild; A covert, which nor rough winds blowing moist Could penetrate, nor could the noon-day sun Smite through it, or unceasing show'rs pervade, So thick a roof the ample branches form'd 580 Close interwoven; under these the Chief Retiring, with industrious hands a bed Collected broad of leaves, which there he found Abundant strew'd, such store as had sufficed Two travellers or three for cov'ring warm, 585 Though winter's roughest blasts had rag'd the while. That bed with joy the suff'ring Chief renown'd Contemplated, and occupying soon The middle space, hillock'd it high with leaves. As when some swain hath hidden deep his torch 590 Beneath the embers, at the verge extreme Of all his farm, where, having neighbours none, Se saves a seed or two of future flame Alive, doom'd else to fetch it from afar,
So with dry leaves Ulysses overspread 595 His body, on whose eyes Minerva pour'd The balm of sleep copious, that he might taste Repose again, after long toil severe.
* ↑ The Solymi were the ancient inhabitants of Pisidia in Asia-Minor.
* ↑ The Translator finding himself free to chuse between ἀυδηέσσα and ἠδηέσσα, has preferred the latter.