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Homeros: What Do Antique Anatolians Tell Us On: Olive, Olive Trees and Olive Oil

Homer
book 2, card 734: …And they that held Ormenius and the fountain Hypereia, [735] and that held Asterium and the white crests of Titanus, these were led by Eurypylus, the glorious son of Euaemon. And with him there followed forty black ships. And they that held Argissa, and dwelt in Gyrtone, Orthe, and Elone, and the white city of Oloösson, [740] these again had as leader Polypoetes, staunch in fight, son of Peirithous, whom immortal Zeus begat— even him whom glorious Hippodameia conceived to Peirithous on the day when he got him vengeance on the shaggy centaurs, and thrust them forth from Pelium, and drave them to the Aethices. [745] Not alone was he, but with him was Leonteus, scion of Ares, the son of Caenus’ son, Coronus, high of heart. And with them there followed forty black ships. And Gouneus led from Cyphus two and twenty ships, and with him followed the Enienes and the Peraebi, staunch in fight, [750] that had set their dwellings about wintry Dodona, and dwelt in the ploughland about lovely Titaressus, that poureth his fair-flowing streams into Peneius; yet doth he not mingle with the silver eddies of Peneius, but floweth on over his waters like unto olive oil; [755] for that he is a branch of the water of Styx, the dread river of oath. And the Magnetes had as captain Prothous, son of Tenthredon. These were they that dwelt about Peneius and Pelion, covered with waving forests. Of these was swift Prothous captain; and with him there followed forty black ships. [760] These were the leaders of the Danaans and their lords. But who was far the best among them do thou tell me, Muse—best of the warriors and of the horses that followed with the sons of Atreus. Of horses best by far were the mares of the son of Pheres, those that Eumelas drave, swift as birds, [765] like of coat, like of age, their backs as even as a levelling line could make. These had Apollo of the silver bow reared in Pereia, both of them mares, bearing with them the panic of war. And of warriors far best was Telamonian Aias, while yet Achilles cherished his wrath; for Achilles was far the mightiest, [770] he and the horses that bare the peerless son of Peleus. Howbeit he abode amid his beaked, seafaring ships in utter wrath against Agamemnon, Atreus’ son, shepherd of the host; and his people along the sea-shore took their joy in casting the discus and the javelin, and in archery; [775] and their horses each beside his own car, eating lotus and parsley of the marsh, stood idle, while the chariots were set, well covered up, in the huts of their masters. But the men, longing for their captain, dear to Ares, roared hither and thither through the camp, and fought not.
Homer. The Iliad with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, Ph.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1924.
book 13, card 601:But Peisander made straight at glorious Menelaus; howbeit an evil fate was leading him to the end of death, to be slain by thee, Menelaus, in the dread conflict. And when they were come near, as they advanced one against the other, [605] the son of Atreus missed, and his spear was turned aside; but Peisander thrust and smote the shield of glorious Menelaus, yet availed not to drive the bronze clean through, for the wide shield stayed it and the spear brake in the socket; yet had he joy at heart, and hope for victory. [610] But the son of Atreus drew his silver-studded sword, and leapt upon Peisander; and he from beneath his shield grasped a goodly axe of fine bronze, set on a haft of olive-wood, long and well-polished; and at the one moment they set each upon the other. Peisander verily smote Menelaus upon the horn of his helmet with crest of horse-hair [615] —on the topmost part beneath the very plume; but Menelaus smote him as he came against him, on the forehead above the base of the nose; and the bones crashed loudly, and the two eyeballs, all bloody, fell before his feet in the dust, and he bowed and fell; and Menelaus set his foot upon his breast, and despoiled him of his arms, and exulted, saying: [620] “ln such wise of a surety shall ye leave the ships of the Danaans, drivers of swift horses, ye overweening Trojans, insatiate of the dread din of battle. Aye, and of other despite and shame lack ye naught, wherewith ye have done despite unto me, ye evil dogs,1 and had no fear at heart of the grievous wrath of Zeus, that thundereth aloud, the god of hospitality, [625] who shall some day destroy your high city. For ye bare forth wantonly over sea my wedded wife and therewithal much treasure, when it was with her that ye had found entertainment; and now again ye are full fain to fling consuming fire on the sea-faring ships, and to slay the Achaean warriors. [630] Nay, but ye shall be stayed from your fighting, how eager soever ye be! Father Zeus, in sooth men say that in wisdom thou art above all others, both men and gods, yet it is from thee that all these things come; in such wise now dost thou shew favour to men of wantonness, even the Trojans, whose might is always froward, [635] nor can they ever have their fill of the din of evil war. Of all things is there satiety, of sleep, and love, and of sweet song, and the goodly dance; of these things verily a man would rather have his fill than of war; but the Trojans are insatiate of battle.”
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Homer. The Iliad with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, Ph.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1924.
book 17, card 44:So saying, he smote upon his shield that was well-balanced upon every side; howbeit the bronze brake not through, [45] but its point was bent back in the stout shield. Then in turn did Atreus’ son, Menelaus, rush upon him with his spear, and made prayer to father Zeus; and as he gave back, stabbed him at the base of the throat, and put his weight into the thrust, trusting in his heavy hand; and clean out through the tender neck passed the point. [50] And he fell with a thud, and upon him his armour clanged. In blood was his hair drenched, that was like the hair of the Graces, and his tresses that were braided with gold and silver. And as a man reareth a lusty sapling of an olive in a lonely place, where water welleth up abundantly— [55] a goodly sapling and a fair-growing; and the blasts of all the winds make it to quiver, and it burgeoneth out with white blossoms; but suddenly cometh the wind with a mighty tempest, and teareth it out of its trench, and layeth it low upon the earth; even in such wise did [60] Menelaus, son of Atreus, slay Panthous’ son, Euphorbus of the good ashen spear, and set him to spoil him of his armour. And as when a mountain-nurtured lion, trusting in his might, hath seized from amid a grazing herd the heifer that is goodliest: her neck he seizeth first in his strong jaws, and breaketh it, and thereafter devoureth the blood and all the inward parts in his fury; [65] and round about him hounds and herds-men folk clamour loudly from afar, but have no will to come against him, for pale fear taketh hold on them; even so dared not the heart in the breast of any Trojan go to face glorious Menelaus. [70] Full easily then would Atreus’ son have borne off the glorious armour of the son of Panthous, but that Phoebus Apollo begrudged it him, and in the likeness of a man, even of Mentes, leader of the Cicones, aroused against him Hector, the peer of swift Ares. And he spake and addressed him in winged words: [75] “Hector, now art thou hasting thus vainly after what thou mayest not attain, even the horses of the wise-hearted son of Aeacus; but hard are they for mortal men to master or to drive, save only for Achilles, whom an immortal mother bare. Meanwhile hath warlike Menelaus, son of Atreus, [80] bestridden Patroclus, and slain the best man of the Trojans, even Panthous’ son, Euphorbus, and hath made him cease from his furious valour.”
Homer. The Iliad with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, Ph.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1924.
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Homer, Odyssey
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(English) (Greek)
book 5, card 228: … sides; and in it was a beautiful handle of olive wood, securely fastened; and thereafter she gave him a
book 5, card 228: … sides; and in it was a beautiful handle of olive wood, securely fastened; and thereafter she gave him a
book 5, card 451: … from the same spot, one of thorn and one of olive. Through these the strength of the wet winds could
book 6, card 48: … mounted upon the wagon. Her mother gave her also soft olive oil in a flask of gold, that she and
book 6, card 211: … and a tunic for raiment, and gave him soft olive oil in the flask of gold, and bade him … wash the brine from my shoulders, and anoint myself with olive oil; for of a truth it is long since
book 7, card 77: … tree; and from the closely-woven linen the soft olive oil drips down. 2
book 9, card 318: … club of the Cyclops , a staff of green olive-wood, which he had cut to carry with him
book 9, card 360: … man flinch through fear. But when presently that stake of olive-wood was about to catch fire, green though it … breathed into us great courage. They took the stake of olive-wood, sharp at the point, and thrust it into … even so did his eye hiss round the stake of olive-wood. Terribly then did he cry aloud, and the
book 13, card 93: … At the head of the harbor is a long-leafed olive tree, and near it a pleasant, shadowy cave sacred … These they set all together by the trunk of the olive tree, out of the path, lest haply some wayfarer,
book 13, card 329: … at the head of the harbor is the long-leafed olive tree, and near it is the pleasant, shadowy cave,
book 13, card 366: … two sat them down by the trunk of the sacred olive tree, and devised death for the insolent wooers. And
book 23, card 181: … it and none other. A bush of long-leafed olive was growing within the court, strong and vigorous, and … I cut away the leafy branches of the long-leafed olive, and, trimming the trunk from the root, I smoothed … whether by now some man has cut from beneath the olive stump, and set the bedstead elsewhere.” So he
book 24, card 232: … whatsoever, either plant or fig tree, or vine, nay, or olive, or pear, or garden-plot in all the field
book 5, card 228
As soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, straightway Odysseus put on a cloak and a tunic, [230] and the nymph clothed herself in a long white robe, finely woven and beautiful, and about her waist she cast a fair girdle of gold, and on her head a veil above. Then she set herself to plan the sending of the great-hearted Odysseus. She gave him a great axe, well fitted to his hands, [235] an axe of bronze, sharpened on both sides; and in it was a beautiful handle of olive wood, securely fastened; and thereafter she gave him a polished adze. Then she led the way to the borders of the island where tall trees were standing, alder and popular and fir, reaching to the skies, [240] long dry and well-seasoned, which would float for him lightly. But when she had shewn him where the tall trees grew, Calypso, the beautiful goddess, returned homewards, but he fell to cutting timbers, and his work went forward apace. Twenty trees in all did he fell, and trimmed them with the axe; [245] then he cunningly smoothed them all and made them straight to the line. Meanwhile Calypso, the beautiful goddess, brought him augers; and he bored all the pieces and fitted them to one another, and with pegs and morticings did he hammer it together. Wide as a man well-skilled in carpentry marks out the curve of the hull of a freight-ship, [250] broad of beam, even so wide did Odysseus make his raft. And he set up the deck-beams, bolting them to the close-set ribs, and laboured on; and he finished the raft with long gunwales. In it he set a mast and a yard-arm, fitted to it, [255] and furthermore made him a steering-oar, wherewith to steer. Then he fenced in the whole from stem to stern with willow withes to be a defence against the wave, and strewed much brush thereon.1 Meanwhile Calypso, the beautiful goddess, brought him cloth to make him a sail, and he fashioned that too with skill. [260] And he made fast in the raft braces and halyards and sheets, and then with levers2 forced it down into the bright sea.
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Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, PH.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1919.
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book 5, card 451:
So he spoke, and the god straightway stayed his stream, and checked the waves, and made a calm before him, and brought him safely to the mouth of the river. And he let his two knees bend and his strong hands fall, for his spirit was crushed by the sea. [455] And all his flesh was swollen, and sea water flowed in streams up through his mouth and nostrils. So he lay breathless and speechless, with scarce strength to move; for terrible weariness had come upon him. But when he revived, and his spirit returned again into his breast, then he loosed from him the veil of the goddess and let it fall into the river that murmured seaward; [460] and the great wave bore it back down the stream, and straightway Ino received it in her hands. But Odysseus, going back from the river, sank down in the reeds and kissed the earth, the giver of grain; and deeply moved he spoke to his own mighty spirit: [465] “Ah, woe is me! what is to befall me? What will happen to me at the last? If here in the river bed I keep watch throughout the weary night, I fear that together the bitter frost and the fresh dew may overcome me, when from feebleness I have breathed forth my spirit; and the breeze from the river blows cold in the early morning. [470] But if I climb up the slope to the shady wood and lie down to rest in the thick brushwood, in the hope that the cold and weariness might leave me, and if sweet sleep comes over me, I fear me lest I become a prey and spoil to wild beasts.” Then, as he pondered, this thing seemed to him the better: [475] he went his way to the wood and found it near the water in a clear space; and he crept beneath two bushes that grew from the same spot, one of thorn and one of olive. Through these the strength of the wet winds could never blow, nor the rays of the bright sun beat, [480] nor could the rain pierce through them, so closely did they grow, intertwining one with the other. Beneath these Odysseus crept and straightway gathered with his hands a broad bed, for fallen leaves were there in plenty, enough to shelter two men or three [485] in winter-time, however bitter the weather. And the much-enduring goodly Odysseus saw it, and was glad, and he lay down in the midst, and heaped over him the fallen leaves. And as a man hides a brand beneath the dark embers in an outlying farm, a man who has no neighbors, [490] and so saves a seed of fire, that he may not have to kindle it from some other source, so Odysseus covered himself with leaves. And Athena shed sleep upon his eyes, that it might enfold his lids and speedily free him from toilsome weariness.
Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, PH.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1919.
book 6, card 48:
At once then came fair-throned Dawn and awakened Nausicaa of the beautiful robes, and straightway she marvelled at her dream, [50] and went through the house to tell her parents, her father dear and her mother; and she found them both within. The mother sat at the hearth with her handmaidens, spinning the yarn of purple dye, and her father she met as he was going forth to join the glorious kings [55] in the place of council, to which the lordly Phaeacians called him. But she came up close to her dear father, and said: “Papa dear, wilt thou not make ready for me a wagon, high and stout of wheel, that I may take to the river for washing the goodly raiment of mine which is lying here soiled? [60] Moreover for thyself it is seemly that when thou art at council with the princes thou shouldst have clean raiment upon thee; and thou hast five sons living in thy halls—two are wedded, but three are sturdy bachelors—and these ever wish to put on them freshly-washed raiment, [65] when they go to the dance. Of all this must I take thought.” So she spoke, for she was ashamed to name gladsome1 marriage to her father; but he understood all, and answered, saying: “Neither the mules do I begrudge thee, my child, nor aught beside. Go thy way; the slaves shall make ready for thee the wagon, [70] high and stout of wheel and fitted with a box above.”2 With this he called to the slaves, and they hearkened. Outside the palace they made ready the light-running mule wagon, and led up the mules and yoked them to it; and the maiden brought from her chamber the bright raiment, [75] and placed it upon the polished car, while her mother put in a chest food of all sorts to satisfy the heart. Therein she put dainties, and poured wine in a goat-skin flask; and the maiden mounted upon the wagon. Her mother gave her also soft olive oil in a flask of gold, [80] that she and her maidens might have it for the bath. Then Nausicaa took the whip and the bright reins, and smote the mules to start them; and there was a clatter of the mules as they sped on a main, bearing the raiment and the maiden; neither went she alone, for with her went her handmaids as well.
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Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, PH.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1919.
book 6, card 211:
So she spoke, and they halted and called to each other. Then they set Odysseus in a sheltered place, as Nausicaa, the daughter of great-hearted Alcinous, bade, and beside him they put a cloak and a tunic for raiment, [215] and gave him soft olive oil in the flask of gold, and bade him bathe in the streams of the river. Then among the maidens spoke goodly Odysseus: “Maidens, stand yonder apart, that by myself I may wash the brine from my shoulders, and [220] anoint myself with olive oil; for of a truth it is long since oil came near my skin. But in your presence will I not bathe, for I am ashamed to make me naked in the midst of fair-tressed maidens.” So he said, and they went apart and told the princess. But with water from the river goodly Odysseus washed from his skin [225] the brine which clothed his back and broad shoulders, and from his head he wiped the scurf of the unresting sea. But when he had washed his whole body and anointed himself with oil, and had put on him the raiment which the unwedded maid had given him, then Athena, the daughter of Zeus, made him [230] taller to look upon and mightier, and from his head she made the locks to flow in curls like unto the hyacinth flower. And as when a man overlays silver with gold, a cunning workman whom Hephaestus and Pallas Athena have taught all manner of craft, and full of grace is the work he produces, [235] even so the goddess shed grace upon his head and shoulders. Then he went apart and sat down on the shore of the sea, gleaming with beauty and grace; and the damsel marvelled at him, and spoke to her fair-tressed handmaids, saying: “Listen, white-armed maidens, that I may say somewhat. [240] Not without the will of all the gods who hold Olympus does this man come among the godlike Phaeacians. Before he seemed to me uncouth, but now he is like the gods, who hold broad heaven. Would that a man such as he might be called my husband, [245] dwelling here, and that it might please him here to remain. But come, my maidens; give to the stranger food and drink.” So she spoke, and they readily hearkened and obeyed, and set before Odysseus food and drink. Then verily did the much-enduring goodly Odysseus drink and eat, [250] ravenously; for long had he been without taste of food.
Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, PH.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1919.
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book 7, card 77:
So saying, flashing-eyed Athena departed over the unresting sea, and left lovely Scheria. [80] She came to Marathon and broad-wayed Athens, and entered the well-built house of Erectheus; but Odysseus went to the glorious palace of Alcinous. There he stood, and his heart pondered much before he reached the threshold of bronze; for there was a gleam as of sun or moon [85] over the high-roofed house of great-hearted Alcinous. Of bronze were the walls that stretched this way and that from the threshold to the innermost chamber, and around was a cornice of cyanus.1 Golden were the doors that shut in the well-built house, and doorposts of silver were set in a threshold of bronze. [90] Of silver was the lintel above, and of gold the handle. On either side of the door there stood gold and silver dogs, which Hephaestus had fashioned with cunning skill to guard the palace of great-hearted Alcinous; immortal were they and ageless all their days.2 [95] Within, seats were fixed along the wall on either hand, from the threshold to the innermost chamber, and on them were thrown robes of soft fabric, cunningly woven, the handiwork of women. On these the leaders of the Phaeacians were wont to sit drinking and eating, for they had unfailing store. [100] And golden youths stood on well-built pedestals, holding lighted torches in their hands to give light by night to the banqueters in the hall. And fifty slave-women he had in the house, of whom some grind the yellow grain on the millstone, [105] and others weave webs, or, as they sit, twirl the yarn, like unto the leaves3 of a tall poplar tree; and from the closely-woven linen the soft olive oil drips down.4
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Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, PH.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1919.
book 9, card 318:
“Now this seemed to my mind the best plan. There lay beside a sheep-pen a great club of the Cyclops, [320] a staff of green olive-wood, which he had cut to carry with him when dry; and as we looked at it we thought it as large as is the mast of a black ship of twenty oars, a merchantman, broad of beam, which crosses over the great gulf; so huge it was in length and in breadth to look upon. [325] To this I came, and cut off therefrom about a fathom’s length and handed it to my comrades, bidding them dress it down; and they made it smooth, and I, standing by, sharpened it at the point, and then straightway took it and hardened it in the blazing fire. Then I laid it carefully away, hiding it beneath the dung, [330] which lay in great heaps throughout the cave. And I bade my comrades cast lots among them, which of them should have the hardihood with me to lift the stake and grind it into his eye when sweet sleep should come upon him. And the lot fell upon those whom I myself would fain have chosen; [335] four they were, and I was numbered with them as the fifth. At even then he came, herding his flocks of goodly fleece, and straightway drove into the wide cave his fat flocks one and all, and left not one without in the deep court, either from some foreboding or because a god so bade him. [340] Then he lifted on high and set in place the great door-stone, and sitting down he milked the ewes and bleating goats all in turn, and beneath each dam he placed her young. But when he had busily performed his tasks, again he seized two men at once and made ready his supper. [345] Then I drew near and spoke to the Cyclops, holding in my hands an ivy1 bowl of the dark wine: “‘Cyclops, take and drink wine after thy meal of human flesh, that thou mayest know what manner of drink this is which our ship contained. It was to thee that I was bringing it as a drink offering, in the hope that, touched with pity, [350] thou mightest send me on my way home; but thou ragest in a way that is past all bearing. Cruel man, how shall any one of all the multitudes of men ever come to thee again hereafter, seeing that thou hast wrought lawlessness?’ “So I spoke, and he took the cup and drained it, and was wondrously pleased as he drank the sweet draught, and asked me for it again a second time: [355] “‘Give it me again with a ready heart, and tell me thy name straightway, that I may give thee a stranger’s gift whereat thou mayest be glad. For among the Cyclopes the earth, the giver of grain, bears the rich clusters of wine, and the rain of Zeus gives them increase; but this is a streamlet of ambrosia and nectar.’
1 1
Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, PH.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1919.
The Annenberg CPB/Project provided support for entering this text.
book 9, card 360:
[360] “So he spoke, and again I handed him the flaming wine. Thrice I brought and gave it him, and thrice he drained it in his folly. But when the wine had stolen about the wits of the Cyclops, then I spoke to him with gentle words: “‘Cyclops, thou askest me of my glorious name, and I [365] will tell it thee; and do thou give me a stranger’s gift, even as thou didst promise. Noman is my name, Noman do they call me—my mother and my father, and all my comrades as well.’ “So I spoke, and he straightway answered me with pitiless heart: ‘Noman will I eat last among his comrades, [370] and the others before him; this shall be thy gift.’ “He spoke, and reeling fell upon his back, and lay there with his thick neck bent aslant, and sleep, that conquers all, laid hold on him. And from his gullet came forth wine and bits of human flesh, and he vomited in his drunken sleep. [375] Then verily I thrust in the stake under the deep ashes until it should grow hot, and heartened all my comrades with cheering words, that I might see no man flinch through fear. But when presently that stake of olive-wood was about to catch fire, green though it was, and began to glow terribly, [380] then verily I drew nigh, bringing the stake from the fire, and my comrades stood round me and a god breathed into us great courage. They took the stake of olive-wood, sharp at the point, and thrust it into his eye, while I, throwing my weight upon it from above, whirled it round, as when a man bores a ship’s timber [385] with a drill, while those below keep it spinning with the thong, which they lay hold of by either end, and the drill runs around unceasingly. Even so we took the fiery-pointed stake and whirled it around in his eye, and the blood flowed around the heated thing. And his eyelids wholly and his brows round about did the flame singe [390] as the eyeball burned, and its roots crackled in the fire. And as when a smith dips a great axe or an adze in cold water amid loud hissing to temper it—for therefrom comes the strength of iron—even so did his eye hiss round the stake of olive-wood. [395] Terribly then did he cry aloud, and the rock rang around; and we, seized with terror, shrank back, while he wrenched from his eye the stake, all befouled with blood, and flung it from him, wildly waving his arms. Then he called aloud to the Cyclopes, who [400] dwelt round about him in caves among the windy heights, and they heard his cry and came thronging from every side, and standing around the cave asked him what ailed him: “‘What so sore distress is thine, Polyphemus, that thou criest out thus through the immortal night, and makest us sleepless? [405] Can it be that some mortal man is driving off thy flocks against thy will, or slaying thee thyself by guile or by might?’ “‘Then from out the cave the mighty Polyphemus answered them: ‘My friends, it is Noman that is slaying me by guile and not by force.’
Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, PH.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1919.
The Annenberg CPB/Project provided support for entering this text.
book 13, card 93:
Now when that brightest of stars rose which ever comes to herald the light of early Dawn, [95] even then the seafaring ship drew near to the island. There is in the land of Ithaca a certain harbor of Phorcys, the old man of the sea, and at its mouth two projecting headlands sheer to seaward, but sloping down on the side toward the harbor. These keep back the great waves raised by heavy winds [100] without, but within the benched ships lie unmoored when they have reached the point of anchorage. At the head of the harbor is a long-leafed olive tree, and near it a pleasant, shadowy cave sacred to the nymphs that are called Naiads. [105] Therein are mixing bowls and jars of stone, and there too the bees store honey. And in the cave are long looms of stone, at which the nymphs weave webs of purple dye, a wonder to behold; and therein are also ever-flowing springs. Two doors there are to the cave, [110] one toward the North Wind, by which men go down, but that toward the South Wind is sacred, nor do men enter thereby; it is the way of the immortals. Here they rowed in, knowing the place of old; and the ship ran full half her length on the shore [115] in her swift course, at such pace was she driven by the arms of the rowers. Then they stepped forth from the benched ship upon the land, and first they lifted Odysseus out of the hollow ship, with the linen sheet and bright rug as they were, and laid him down on the sand, still overpowered by sleep. [120] And they lifted out the goods which the lordly Phaeacians had given him, as he set out for home, through the favour of great-hearted Athena. These they set all together by the trunk of the olive tree, out of the path, lest haply some wayfarer, before Odysseus awoke, might come upon them and spoil them. [125] Then they themselves returned home again. But the Shaker of the Earth did not forget the threats wherewith at the first he had threatened godlike Odysseus, and he thus enquired of the purpose of Zeus: “Father Zeus, no longer shall I, even I, be held in honor among the immortal gods, seeing that mortals honor me not a whit— [130] even the Phaeacians, who, thou knowest, are of my own lineage. For I but now declared that Odysseus should suffer many woes ere he reached his home, though I did not wholly rob him of his return when once thou hadst promised it and confirmed it with thy nod; yet in his sleep these men have borne him in a swift ship over the sea [135] and set him down in Ithaca, and have given him gifts past telling, stores of bronze and gold and woven raiment, more than Odysseus would ever have won for himself from Troy, if he had returned unscathed with his due share of the spoil.”
Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, PH.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1919.
book 13, card 329:
Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: [330] “Ever such is the thought in thy breast, and therefore it is that I cannot leave thee in thy sorrow, for thou art soft of speech, keen of wit, and prudent. Eagerly would another man on his return from wanderings have hastened to behold in his halls his children and his wife; [335] but thou art not yet minded to know or learn of aught, till thou hast furthermore proved thy wife, who abides as of old in her halls, and ever sorrowfully for her the nights and days wane, as she weeps. But as for me, I never doubted of this, but in my heart [340] knew it well, that thou wouldest come home after losing all thy comrades. Yet, thou must know, I was not minded to strive against Poseidon, my father’s brother, who laid up wrath in his heart against thee, angered that thou didst blind his dear son. But come, I will shew thee the land of Ithaca, that thou mayest be sure. [345] This is the harbor of Phorcys, the old man of the sea, and here at the head of the harbor is the long-leafed olive tree, and near it is the pleasant, shadowy cave, sacred to the nymphs that are called Naiads. This, thou must know, is the vaulted cave in which thou [350] wast wont to offer to the nymphs many hecatombs that bring fulfillment; and yonder is Mount Neriton, clothed with its forests.” So spake the goddess, and scattered the mist, and the land appeared. Glad then was the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus, rejoicing in his own land, and he kissed the earth, the giver of grain. [355] And straightway he prayed to the nymphs with upstretched hands: “Ye Naiad Nymphs, daughters of Zeus, never did I think to behold you again, but now I hail you with loving prayers. Aye, and gifts too will I give, as aforetime, if the daughter of Zeus, she that drives the spoil, shall graciously grant me [360] to live, and shall bring to manhood my dear son.” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him again: “Be of good cheer, and let not these things distress thy heart. But let us now forthwith set thy goods in the innermost recess of the wondrous cave, where they may abide for thee in safety, [365] and let us ourselves take thought how all may be far the best.”
Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, PH.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1919.
The Annenberg CPB/Project provided support for entering this text.
book 13, card 366:
So saying, the goddess entered the shadowy cave and searched out its hiding-places. And Odysseus brought all the treasure thither, the gold and the stubborn bronze and the finely-wrought raiment, which the Phaeacians gave him. [370] These things he carefully laid away, and Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, who bears the aegis, set a stone at the door. Then the two sat them down by the trunk of the sacred olive tree, and devised death for the insolent wooers. And the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, was the first to speak, saying: [375] “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, take thought how thou mayest put forth thy hands on the shameless wooers, who now for three years have been lording it in thy halls, wooing thy godlike wife, and offering wooers’ gifts. And she, as she mournfully looks for thy coming, [380] offers hopes to all, and has promises for each man, sending them messages, but her mind is set on other things.” Then Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “Lo now, of a surety I was like to have perished in my halls by the evil fate of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, [385] hadst not thou, goddess, duly told me all. But come, weave some plan by which I may requite them; and stand thyself by my side, and endue me with dauntless courage, even as when we loosed the bright diadem of Troy. Wouldest thou but stand by my side, thou flashing-eyed one, as eager as thou wast then, [390] I would fight even against three hundred men, with thee, mighty goddess, if with a ready heart thou wouldest give me aid.” Then the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, answered him: “Yea verily, I will be with thee, and will not forget thee, when we are busied with this work; and methinks many a one [395] of the wooers that devour thy substance shall bespatter the vast earth with his blood and brains. But come, I will make thee unknown to all mortals. I will shrivel the fair skin on thy supple limbs, and destroy the flaxen hair from off thy head, and clothe thee in a ragged garment, [400] such that one would shudder to see a man clad therein. And I will dim thy two eyes that were before so beautiful, that thou mayest appear mean in the sight of all the wooers, and of thy wife, and of thy son, whom thou didst leave in thy halls. And for thyself, do thou go first of all [405] to the swineherd who keeps thy swine, and withal has a kindly heart towards thee, and loves thy son and constant Penelope. Thou wilt find him abiding by the swine, and they are feeding by the rock of Corax and the spring Arethusa, eating acorns to their heart’s content and [410] drinking the black water, things which cause the rich flesh of swine to wax fat. There do thou stay, and sitting by his side question him of all things, while I go to Sparta, the land of fair women, to summon thence Telemachus, thy dear son, Odysseus, who went to spacious Lacedaemon to the house of Menelaus, [415] to seek tidings of thee, if thou wast still anywhere alive.”
Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, PH.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1919.
The Annenberg CPB/Project provided support for entering this text.
book 23, card 181:
So she spoke, and made trial of her husband. But Odysseus, in a burst of anger, spoke to his true-hearted wife, and said: “Woman, truly this is a bitter word that thou hast spoken. Who has set my bed elsewhere? Hard would it be for one, [185] though never so skilled, unless a god himself should come and easily by his will set it in another place. But of men there is no mortal that lives, be he never so young and strong, who could easily pry it from its place, for a great token is wrought in the fashioned bed, and it was I that built it and none other. [190] A bush of long-leafed olive was growing within the court, strong and vigorous, and girth it was like a pillar. Round about this I built my chamber, till I had finished it, with close-set stones, and I roofed it over well, and added to it jointed doors, close-fitting. [195] Thereafter I cut away the leafy branches of the long-leafed olive, and, trimming the trunk from the root, I smoothed it around with the adze well and cunningly, and made it straight to the line, thus fashioning the bed-post; and I bored it all with the augur. Beginning with this I hewed out my bed, till I had finished it, [200] inlaying it with gold and silver and ivory, and I stretched on it a thong of ox-hide, bright with purple. Thus do I declare to thee this token; but I know not, woman, whether my bedstead is still fast in its place, or whether by now some man has cut from beneath the olive stump, and set the bedstead elsewhere.” [205] So he spoke, and her knees were loosened where she sat, and her heart melted, as she knew the sure tokens which Odysseus told her. Then with a burst of tears she ran straight toward him, and flung her arms about the neck of Odysseus, and kissed his head, and spoke, saying: “Be not vexed with me, Odysseus, for in all else [210] thou wast ever the wisest of men. It is the gods that gave us sorrow, the gods who begrudged that we two should remain with each other and enjoy our youth, and come to the threshold of old age. But be not now wroth with me for this, nor full of indignation, because at the first, when I saw thee, I did not thus give thee welcome. [215] For always the heart in my breast was full of dread, lest some man should come and beguile me with his words; for there are many that plan devices of evil. Nay, even Argive Helen, daughter of Zeus, would not have lain in love with a man of another folk, [220] had she known that the warlike sons of the Achaeans were to bring her home again to her dear native land. Yet verily in her case a god prompted her to work a shameful deed; nor until then did she lay up in her mind the thought of that folly, the grievous folly from which at the first sorrow came upon us too. [225] But now, since thou hast told the clear tokens of our bed, which no mortal beside has ever seen save thee and me alone and one single handmaid, the daughter of Actor, whom my father gave me or ever I came hither, even her who kept the doors of our strong bridal chamber, [230] lo, thou dost convince my heart, unbending as it is.”
Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, PH.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1919.
The Annenberg CPB/Project provided support for entering this text.
book 24, card 232:
Now when the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus saw him, worn with old age and laden with great grief at heart, he stood still beneath a tall pear tree, and shed tears. [235] Then he debated in mind and heart whether to kiss and embrace his father, and tell him all, how he had returned and come to his native land, or whether he should first question him, and prove him in each thing. And, as he pondered, this seemed to him the better course, [240] to prove him first with mocking words. So with this in mind the goodly Odysseus went straight toward him. He verily was holding his head down, digging about a plant, and his glorious son came up to him, and addressed him, saying: “Old man, no lack of skill hast thou to tend [245] a garden; nay, thy care is good, and there is naught whatsoever, either plant or fig tree, or vine, nay, or olive, or pear, or garden-plot in all the field that lacks care. But another thing will I tell thee, and do thou not lay up wrath thereat in thy heart: thou thyself enjoyest no good care, but [250] thou bearest woeful old age, and therewith art foul and unkempt, and clad in mean raiment. Surely it is not because of sloth on thy part that thy master cares not for thee, nor dost thou seem in any wise like a slave to look upon either in form or in stature; for thou art like a king, even like one who, when he has bathed and eaten, [255] should sleep soft; for this is the way of old men. But come, tell me this, and declare it truly. Whose slave art thou, and whose orchard dost thou tend? And tell me this also truly, that I may know full well, whether this is indeed Ithaca, to which we are now come, as [260] a man yonder told me, who met me but now on my way hither. In no wise over sound of wit was he, for he deigned not to tell me of each thing, nor to listen to my word, when I questioned him about a friend of mine, whether haply he still lives, or is now dead and in the house of Hades. [265] For I will tell thee, and do thou give heed and hearken. I once entertained in my dear native land a man that came to our house, and never did any man beside of strangers that dwell afar come to my house a more welcome guest. He declared that by lineage he came from Ithaca, and said [270] that his own father was Laertes, son of Arceisius. So I took him to the house and gave him entertainment with kindly welcome of the rich store that was within, and I gave him gifts of friendship, such as are meet. Of well-wrought gold [275] I gave him seven talents, and a mixing-bowl all of silver, embossed with flowers, and twelve cloaks of single fold, and as many coverlets, and as many fair mantles, and as many tunics besides, and furthermore women, skilled in goodly handiwork, four comely women, whom he himself was minded to choose.”
Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, PH.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1919.
The Annenberg CPB/Project provided support for entering this text.
Book Genesis
book Genesis, chapter 8:
God remembered Noah, all the animals, and all the cattle that were with him in the ark; and God made a wind to pass over the earth. The waters subsided. [2] The deep’s fountains and the sky’s windows were also stopped, and the rain from the sky was restrained. [3] The waters receded from off the earth continually. After the end of one hundred fifty days the waters decreased. [4] The ark rested in the seventh month, on the seventeenth day of the month, on Ararat‘s mountains. [5] The waters receded continually until the tenth month. In the tenth month, on the first day of the month, the tops of the mountains were seen. [6] It happened at the end of forty days, that Noah opened the window of the ark which he had made, [7] and he sent forth a raven. It went back and forth, until the waters were dried up from off the earth. [8] He sent forth a dove from him, to see if the waters were abated from off the surface of the ground, [9] but the dove found no place to rest her foot, and she returned to him into the ark; for the waters were on the surface of the whole earth. He put forth his hand, and took her, and brought her to him into the ark. [10] He stayed yet another seven days; and again he sent forth the dove out of the ark. [11] The dove came back to him at evening, and, behold, in her mouth was an olive leaf plucked off. So Noah knew that the waters were abated from off the earth. [12] He stayed yet another seven days, and sent forth the dove; and she didn’t return to him any more. [13] It happened in the six hundred first year, in the first month, the first day of the month, the waters were dried up from off the earth. Noah removed the covering of the ark, and looked. He saw that the surface of the ground was dried. [14] In the second month, on the twenty-seventh day of the month, the earth was dry. [15] God spoke to Noah, saying, [16] “Go forth from the ark, you, and your wife, and your sons, and your sons’ wives with you. [17] Bring forth with you every living thing that is with you of all flesh, including birds, cattle, and every creeping thing that creeps on the earth; that they may breed abundantly in the earth, and be fruitful, and multiply on the earth.” [18] Noah went forth, with his sons, his wife, and his sons’ wives with him. [19] Every animal, every creeping thing, and every bird, whatever moves on the earth, after their families, went forth out of the ark. [20] Noah built an altar to Yahweh, and took of every clean animal, and of every clean bird, and offered burnt offerings on the altar. [21] Yahweh smelled the sweet savor. Yahweh said in his heart, “I will not again curse the ground any more for man’s sake, because the imagination of man’s heart is evil from his youth; neither will I ever again strike everything living, as I have done. [22] While the earth remains, seed time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease.”
Rainbow Missions, Inc. World English Bible. Rainbow Missions, Inc.; revision of the American Standard Version of 1901. http://ebible.org/bible/web.
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