The Adventures of Ulysses : The Lotus Eaters 1/1

The twenty-fifth tale from Tales of Greece and Rome

Among the chiefs of the Greeks who fought before the walls of Troy, there was none who gained for himself a greater glory than Ulysses the son of Laertes.

Brave he was in battle, and steadfast in danger, but most of all did the Greeks seek his aid and counsel, when great things must be weighed and fixed. In every peril where there was need of the wise heart and the ready tongue, all hastened to Ulysses, and men felt that he did more to throw down the kingdom of Priam than the mightiest chieftains who fought only with sword and spear.

Yet, in the midst of all his toil and all his great exploits, the heart of Ulysses was far away in rocky Ithaca, where his wife Penelope dwelt with his young son Telemachus. Many a time, as the weary years of the war rolled on, he said within himself, “Ah, when will the strife be ended, and when shall we spread our sails to the breeze, and speed on our way homewards?”

At last the doom of Paris was accomplished, and the hosts of Agamemnon gave the city of Troy to fire and sword. Then Ulysses hastened to gather his men together, that they might go to their home in Ithaca, and they dragged the ships down to the sea from the trenches where they had so long lain idle.

But before they sat down to row the ship out to the deep water, Ulysses spake to them and said, “O friends, think now, each one of you, of his home, of his wife, and of his children. Ten times have summer and winter passed over us since we left them with cheerful hearts, thinking that in but a little time we should come back to them laden with glory and booty. Ten years have they mourned for us at home, and we, who set out for Troy in the vigor of our manhood, go back now with gray hairs, or bowed down with weary labor. Yet faint not, O friends, neither be dismayed. Think how they wait and long for you still at home, as we go from land to land in our voyage to rocky Ithaca, let not weariness weigh down your hearts, or things fair and beautiful lead you to seek for rest, till our ships are moored in the haven which we left ten years ago.”

With shouts of joy they sat down to their long oars, and when they had rowed the ships out into the open sea, they spread the white sails to the breeze, and watched the Ilian land as it faded away from their sight in the far distance.

For many a day they went towards the land of the setting sun, until a mighty wind from the north drove them to a strange country far out of their course to Ithaca. Fair it was and peaceful beyond all lands which they had seen. The sun looked down out of the cloudless heaven on fruits and flowers which covered the laughing earth. Far away beyond the lotus plains the blue hills glimmered in a dreamy haze. The trees bowed their heads in a peaceful slumber, and the lagging waves sank lazily to sleep upon the seashore. The summer breeze breathed its gentle whisper through the air, and the birds sang listlessly of their loves from the waving groves. Then said the men of Ulysses to one another, “Would that our wives and our children were here! Truly Ithaca is but a rough and barren land, and a sore grief it is to leave this happy shore to go home, and there find, it may be, that our children remember us no more.”

And Ulysses said within himself, “Surely some strange spell is on this fair land; almost might I long to sit down and sleep on the shore for ever, but Penelope waits for me in my home, and I cannot rest till I see her face once more.”

Then he bade three of his men go forth and ask the name of the land and of the men who lived in it. So they went slowly from the beach where the waves sang their lulling song to the sleepy flowers, and they wandered along the winding stream which came from the glimmering hills far away, till, deep down in a glen where the sun shed but half its light, they saw men and maidens under the shade of pleasant palm-trees. Before them was spread a banquet of rich and rosy fruit, and some were eating, and others lay asleep.

The men of Ulysses went up to them, and sat down by their side, for they feared them not, as men are wont to fear the people of a strange land. They asked not their name, for they remembered not the bidding of Ulysses, but they drank the dark wine and ate of the rosy fruit which the fair maidens held out to them.

“Eat,” they said, “O strangers, of the fruit which kills all pain. Surely ye are weary and your hearts are faint with sorrow, and your eyes are dim as with many tears. Eat of our fruit and forget your labors; for all who eat of it remember no more weary toil and strife and war.”

So they ate of the fruit, and then over their senses stole softly a strange and wondrous sleep, so that they saw and heard and spake even while they slumbered. On their ears fell the echo of a dreamy music, and forms of maidens, fair as Venus when she rose from the sea foam, passed before their eyes, and they said one to another, “Here let us sit, and feast, and dream for ever.”

Long time Ulysses waited on the seashore, and less and less he marvelled that they came not back, for he felt that over his own heart the strange spell was falling, and he said, “Ah, Penelope, dearer to me than aught else on the wide earth, the gods envy me thy love; else would they not seek to beguile me thus in this strange land of dreams and slumber.”

He rose up, as one rises to go forth to battle, and went quickly on the path by which his men had gone before him. Presently he saw them in the deep dell, and the rich fruit of the lotus was in their hand. They called to Ulysses and said, “We have come to the land of the Lotus-eaters; sit thou down with us and eat of their fruit, and forget all thy cares for ever.”

But Ulysses answered not, and hastening back, he bade the others come with him and bind the three men, and carry them to the ship. “Heed not the people of the land,” he said, “nor touch their rosy fruit. It were a shame for men who have fought at Troy to slumber here like swine fattening for the slaughter.”

So they hastened and bound the three men who sat at the banquet of the Lotus-eaters, and they heeded not their words as they besought them to taste of the fruit and forget all their misery and trouble. And Ulysses hurried them back to the shore and made them drag down the ships into the sea and sit down to their long oars. “Hasten, friends, hasten,” he said, “from this land of dreams. Hither come the Lotus-eaters, and their soft voices will beguile our hearts if we tarry longer. They will tempt us to taste of their fruit, and then we shall seek no more to go back again to the land of toiling men.”

The dash of their oars broke the calm of the still air, and roused the waters from their slumber, as they toiled on their weary way.

The End