A True History

Perseus Greek · Perseus Greek · 64 sections

1.1.1
Athletes and those who pay attention to bodily training do not bestow all their care on securing a vigorous condition or on active exercise. They give some of it to the question of seasonable relaxation; in fact, they conceive this to be a very important part of their training. In just the same way I believe it to be fitting for those engaged with literature to relax their minds after a prolonged reading of the more weighty authors, and render them more vigorous for subsequent labor.
1.2.1
And this period of relaxation. would be more profitable for such persons if they should spend it over works which do not merely furnish pastime by their wit and charm, but which exhibit also some clever train of thought. This is the ideal I propose to myself for the following pages. For the novelty of the idea and the charm of the subject will not be their only attraction, nor yet the persuasive, consistent way in which I set forth lies of all sorts, but the fact that each of the events I record is a parody of some of the poets and historians and philosophers of antiquity, who wrote such wonderful and fabulous histories. I would even insert their names if they were not going to disclose themselves to your own mind as you read.
1.3.1
Ktesias, the Knidian, son of Ktesiochos, wrote an account of the countries of the Indians and their manners and customs, which he never saw himself or heard of from any one else. And Iambulus, too, wrote an astonishing account of things in the Atlantic Ocean. It is patent to all that he drew on his imagination, but he carried out his design pleasantly enough. Many other writers, too, have chosen the same subjects and written on them, assuming to give an account of their own wanderings and journeys, and the size of the beasts they saw, and the savagery of the people and their strange ways of life. The founder of the sect, the teacher of all this tomfoolery, was Homer's Odysseus, who talked to Alkinous and his people about the servitude of the winds; and one-eyed people who eat raw flesh and live barbarously; yes, and of creatures with a plurality of heads, and of transformations wrought on his companions by drugs. Any amount of such marvels he described to the Phaeacians, as if they were greenhorns.
1.4.1
Now, when I fell in with all these works, I did not greatly blame the men for their lying, because I saw at once that this was the habit of those even who promise to write philosophy. But the one thing that filled me with wonder at them was that they believed their falsifications undetected. Accordingly, I too, since my vanity made me eager to leave something for posterity, was not going to be the only one without a share in the story-teller's license, and as I had nothing true to relate for I have had no experiences worth telling-I turned myself to lying far more consistently than the others. For the one true statement I shall make is this: that everything I say will be a lie. In this way I think I should even escape the arraignment of others, since I admit myself that there is not a true word in what I say. Well, then, my book deals with things I neither saw nor lived through myself, nor learned from others things, moreover, which absolutely do not exist, nor could possibly. Wherefore my readers must put no manner of trust in them.
1.5.1
I once made a voyage, setting forth from the Pillars of Hercules into the Western Ocean, with a following wind. The cause of my journey and my object in making it were the restless curiosity of my mind, a yearning for novelties, and a desire to learn what is the boundary of the ocean, and what sort of people dwell on the other side. To this end I stored a ship with a great quantity of provisions, put plenty of water, too, aboard, secured fifty of my comrades who were of my way of thinking, laid in, moreover, a good stock of weapons, furnished myself with an excellent ship's master at high wages, and had the vessel—she was a light-built, fast-sailing craft — put in repair as though for a long, hard voyage.
1.6.1
Well, we sailed for a day and a night with a favorable wind, still in sight of land and making no great progress. But as the sun rose on the next day the wind increased, the sea rose, it grew dark, and it became impossible even to take in the sails. Accordingly, we surrendered ourselves to the wind, and were storm-tossed for seventynine days; but on the eightieth the sun suddenly shone out, and we perceived an island at no great distance, high and wooded, with no fierce breakers thundering about it, for the sea had already greatly subsided. So we brought the ship to land and disembarked, and for some time we lay on the ground, as was natural after our long distress. But when we had got upon our feet we chose out thirty of our number to stay and guard the ship, and twenty to go inland with me and reconnoitre the island.
1.7.1
When we had advanced as much as six hundred yards from the sea through the woods we saw a pillar of wrought brass, bearing an inscription in Greek characters, blurred and rubbed away, which read: "Herakles and Dionysos came to this point." And there were two footprints in the rock close by--one a hundred feet long, the other smaller. I have no doubt that one of them, the smaller, was left by Dionysos, the other by Herakles. We paid our devotions and went forward. We had not gone far when we came to a river flowing with wine-more like the wine of Chios than any other. The stream was full and wide, so that in some places it was navigable. So it came home to us more than ever that we must believe the legend on the pillar when we saw these signs of Dionysos's passage that way. I made up my mind to explore the source of the river and ascended along the stream; but I found no spring, only a quantity of great vines full of grapes, with a drop of translucent wine trickling from the root of each, and from these the river took its rise. There were also a quantity of fish to be seen in it, very like wine in color and taste. In fact we got drunk from eating some of them that we caught, and we actually found them full of lees when we cut them open. Later, however, we bethought ourselves of the other sort of fish that live in water, and by mixing the two we mitigated the strength of our wine food.
1.9.1
We took some jars, and laid in a supply of water and of wine, too, from the river, and having encamped near it on the beach for the night, we set sail at daybreak with a gentle breeze. But about noonday, when we had lost sight of the island, a whirlwind suddenly arose, spun the ship around, lifted her four hundred miles in the air, and did not set her back in the sea again; but as she was hanging aloft in the air a wind struck the sails, filled the canvas, and bore her on.
1.10.1
For seven days and as many nights we coursed through the air, and on the eighth we saw a great earth in the air like an island, bright and round, and shining with a great light. We made for it, came to anchor, and went ashore. On examining the country we found it inhabited and cultivated. By day we could see nothing from it, but when night came on many other islands appeared in the neighborhood, some larger and some smaller, of the color of fire, and a certain other earth below them with cities on it, and rivers and seas and forests and mountains. This we judged was our own.
1.11.1
We determined to go still farther into the interior, but we met some of the Hippogyps, as they call themselves, and they arrested us. These Hippogyps are men riding on great vultures, using the birds like horses, for the vultures are large and for the most part three-headed. You may understand their size from this: each of their feathers is longer and thicker than the mast of a good-sized merchantman. Now it was the business of our Hippogyps to fly about the country, and, if they found a stranger, bring him to the king. Accordingly, they took us in charge and brought us to him. When he had looked at us, he said: "I see, strangers, that you are Greeks.” For he judged from our appearance and clothing. Upon our replying that we were, he asked: "How, then, have you come hither, traversing such a waste of air?" We told him our whole story, and then he began in turn and told us about himself: how he, too, was a man, Endymion by name, and had once been snatched up from our earth in his sleep, and, arriving here, had become king of the country. He said that this earth was what appeared to us below to be the moon. But he bade us take heart and suspect no danger, for we should have everything we wanted.
1.12.1
"If," said he, "I bring to a successful issue the war I am now waging against the inhabitants of the Sun, you will find this the pleasantest place of residence in the universe." We asked who the enemy were and what was the matter in dispute. "Phaeton," said he, "the king of the Sun-folk -for the Sun is inhabited as well as the Moonhas been at war with us for a long time already. It began from this cause: I had collected the poorest of my subjects and planned to send them off to colonize the Morning-star, which is a wilderness, uninhabited by any one. Now Phaeton, in his jealousy, stopped the colonists, meeting them half-way on their journey with his Antcavalry. On that occasion we were beaten— for our numbers were not equal to theirs-and we retired, but now I want to march out again and convoy the colonists. So, if it be agreeable to you, join my expedition. I will furnish you with a vulture apiece from the royal stables and the rest of your equipment. We shall set out tomorrow." "We are at your service," said I.
1.13.1
He then invited us to supper, and we spent the night with him. [Here follows a detailed account of the extraordinary troops marshalled by Endymion and Phaeton, and the manner in which the battle was fought, the Moonites defeated, and the hero taken prisoner with two of his companions. The victorious Sun-folk built a wall between their country and the Moon, cutting off the sunlight, so that Endymion's people were forced to sue for peace, which was granted on easy terms, the chief stipulations being that the Moon should pay a yearly tribute of a hundred thousand gallons of dew, and that the Morning-star should be settled by colonists from the Sun as well as the Moon, and any one else who cared to join them.]
1.21.1
Such were the terms of the peace. The wall was forthwith torn down, and we prisoners-of-war were surrendered. On our return to the Moon our comrades and Endymion himself came out to meet us, and embraced us with tears; and he asked me to stay there and join his colony, promising to give me his own child in marriage. However, I by no means listened to him, but begged him to convey me down into the sea again; and when he saw it was impossible to move me he sent us off after feasting us for seven days.
1.27.1
Then, after making our adieux to the king and his people, we embarked and set sail. On me Endymion also bestowed some gifts, two of their crystal tunics, five bronze ones, and a suit of beanarmor-all of which I left in the whale. He sent also a thousand Hippogyps to escort us fifty miles.
1.28.1
On our voyage we sailed past a number of places, and put in at the Morning-star, which we had just helped to colonize, and disembarked and took in water. Going aboard again we made off into the Zodiac on the left, all but touching the Sun as we sailed past. We did not go ashore, though many of my mates were eager to, for the wind did not permit it. However, we saw the country, which was blooming, rich, well-watered, and full of all pleasant things. When the Cloud-centaurs, who are mercenaries of Phaeton, saw us, they flew towards the ship; but, on learning that we were allies, they withdrew.
1.29.1
The Hippogyps, too, had already left us. After sailing all the next night and day we arrived towards evening at what is called Lamptown, having already entered upon our downward course. This city lies between the tracts of the Pleiades and the Hyades, a good deal lower than the Zodiac. Here we disembarked, but we found no human being, only a multitude of lamps running about and transacting business in the market-place and on the wharves. Some were small, the lower classes, as it were; but a few were large and of high rank, and these were brilliant, and could be seen afar. Each of them had his own private residence or lantern, and a name, like a man, and we heard them utter speech. They offered us no injury, but even invited us to be their guests. Still we were afraid of them, and not one of us dared either to sit at table or pass the night with them. They have erected a palace in the midst of the city, and there the ruler sits all night, calling on each by name. If any one does not respond, he is condemned to death as having deserted his post. Death with them is to be extinguished. We were present and saw what happened, and heard the lamps defending themselves and explaining the reasons for their tardiness. There I recognized also the lamp from our house, and, addressing him, asked him how things were going on at home, and he gave me a full account. We spent that one night there, and the next day we put out to sea again, being already nearer the clouds. And there we saw Cloudcuckootown (to our amazement), but we did not put in, as the wind was in the wrong direction. But Crow, son of Blackbird, was said to be on the throne, and I bethought me of Aristophanes the poet, a grave man and truthful, and one whose writings have been unworthily discredited. On the third day thereafter we also got plain sight of the ocean, but no land was anywhere to be seen save those islands in the air, and they had already taken on a fiery, dazzling look. On the fourth day, about noon, the wind fell gently and subsided, and we sank onto the sea.
1.30.1
When we touched the water it was wonderful to see the excesses of our joy and delight. We made what cheer our means would allow, and sprang overboard and swam about, for there happened to be a calm and the sea was quiet. But a change for the better seems to be often the beginning of greater evils, and so it was in our case. For two days only we sailed with fine weather, and at daybreak, on the third, just before sunrise, we suddenly sighted a great number of sea-monsters and whales, with one among them bigger than all the rest, a hundred and seventy miles long. It came on with its mouth yawning open, making wide commotion in the sea, scattering foam in all directions, and showing its great teeth. They were all as sharp as pickets and white as ivory. Well, we said our last farewells, embraced each other, and waited. The creature was already alongside, and swallowed us down at a gulp, ship and all. However, it did not close its teeth in time to crush us, but the ship slipped in through the openings.
1.31.1
When we were within, all was dark at first, and we saw nothing; but presently the creature opened its mouth, and we beheld a great cavern, so broad in all directions and so high that it might have held a city of ten thousand souls. In the midst lay the fragments of small fish and other animals, sails of ships, anchors, human bones, and merchandise; and down the middle there was dry land, with hills formed, I suppose, by the settling of the mud the creature drank down. At all events, there were woods on it, and plants of all sorts grew there and vegetables had sprung up, so that it was in all respects like tilled soil. The circumference of the land was twenty-seven miles. We could also see sea-fowl, gulls, and halcyons building nests in the trees.
1.32.1
Well, at first we wept a long time, but by-andby I roused my comrades and we propped the ship. Then we rubbed dry sticks together and made a fire, and cooked a meal of anything we could lay our hands on. There was an abundance of fish at hand of all sorts, and we still had some of the water we had laid in at the Morning-star. Next morning when we arose, every time the whale opened its mouth we saw now land, now mountains, now sky alone, and often islands. By this we perceived the creature was rushing swiftly through all parts of the sea. When we had already grown accustomed to this manner of life, I took seven of my companions and made my way into the forest, wishing to explore it thoroughly. I had not gone a thousand yards before I came upon a temple dedicated to Poseidon, as the inscription showed, and shortly after a number of graves with headstones, and near by a spring of clear water. Moreover, we heard the barking of a dog, and perceived smoke rising in the distance, so that we judged there must be a habitation of some sort.
1.33.1
Accordingly, we hastened our steps, and came upon an old man and a young one working very industriously in a garden-plot, and watering it with water from the spring. We halted, overjoyed, and at the same time filled with fear, and they must have had the same feeling towards us, for they stood speechless. But presently the old man said, "Who are you, strangers? Are you," said he, "some of the gods of the sea, or ill-fated mortals like ourselves? For we are men, and we were reared on dry land; but now we have become sea-dwellers, and we swim about in company with this monster who encloses us, not rightly knowing what condition we are in; for reason tells us we are dead, and yet we believe we are alive." In answer to this I, too, spoke: "We, too, are men, father-new-comers, at your service. We were gulped down, the other day, ship and all. We are making this expedition for the sake of knowing what is in the forest, for it seemed large and thickly wooded. Some god, I think, led us, so that we might see you, and know that we are not the only men penned up in this monster. But come, tell us your story-who you are and how you came hither." But he said he would neither give nor seek information until he had offered us such hospitality as was in his power; so he took possession of us and led us to his dwelling, which was tolerably made, with beds built in it and furnished with the other necessaries. He set before us vegetables and fruits and fish, and poured out wine for us, too; and when we had eaten our fill, he inquired what our adventures had been. I related them all in order-the storm, our experiences on the island, our voyage in the air, the war, everything up to our engulfment by the whale.
1.34.1
He was greatly astonished, and in turn gave us an account of his own fortunes. "By birth, friends, I am a Cypriote. Being engaged in commerce, I set out from my native land with my boy, whom you see, and a number of slaves as well, and sailed for Italy, carrying a cargo of all sorts of wares in a large ship, which you perhaps saw lying in fragments at the whale's mouth. Well, as far as Sicily we had a favorable voyage, but there a tempest fell upon us and drove us three days out to sea, where we fell in with the whale and were swallowed bodily. We two alone were saved; all the others perished. We buried our comrades and built the temple to Poseidon, and then we fell into our present mode of life, tilling our kitchen-garden, and eating fish and fruits. The forest, as you see, is extensive, and there are actually quantities of grapes in it, which make the sweetest wine. The spring, too, which perhaps you know, gives very clear and cold water. We make our bed of leaves; we have no lack of fire; we capture the birds that fly in; we take alive the fish that find their way into the monster's gills; and there, too, we bathe when we wish. There is a salt lake, also, not far off, more than two miles in circumference, stocked with fish of all sorts. There we swim and sail, too, in a small skiff that I built myself. This is the twenty-seventh year since we were swallowed.
1.35.1
As far as these things go, our life was perhaps tolerable; but our neighbors, the people who live near us, are extremely rough and violent, for they are savages who have never had commerce with civilization." "What!" said I, "are there, then, still other men in the whale?" "Numbers of them," said he, "inhospitable and barbarous in their manners. The western territory towards the tail is inhabited by the Driedherring folk, an eel-eyed, lobster-faced race, warlike, fierce, and eaters of raw flesh. On the other side, towards the right, are the Triton-weasels, who are like men above but like weasels below. However, they are less unruly than the others. On the left are the Crabclaws and the Tunnyheads, who have made a friendly alliance between themselves. The country between is inhabited by the Crayfish and the Skaitfeet, a warlike race and very swift in running. The eastern part towards the mouth consists of waste deserts washed by the sea. But this region I hold, paying the Skaitfeet a yearly tribute of five hundred oysters.
1.36.1
Such is the nature of the country; it is for you to see to it that we may be able to hold our own in war with so many tribes and get our living." "What are their numbers in all?" said I. "More than a thousand," he replied. "And what arms have they?" "None," said he, "except fish-bones." "Very well, then," I said; "it would be best to engage them in battle, for they are unarmed and we are armed. If we overcome them we shall dwell without fear of molestation for the future." This course was determined on, and we went back to the ship and made ourselves ready. The day for paying the tribute was at hand, and we were going to make a refusal to pay it the ground of war. Sure enough, the savages sent messengers to demand the tribute, but our friends answered them scornfully and chased them away. The Skaitfeet and the Crayfish were the first to advance, furious with Skintharos-for that was his name—and making a great noise.
1.37.1
But we had suspected their attack, and awaited them fully armed, having sent forward an ambuscade of twenty-five men. The order given to the men in ambush was that when they perceived the enemy had passed by they should spring out, and this is what they did. Springing out, they fell upon them from the rear; and we ourselves, who were also twenty-five in number (for Skintharos and his son fought with us), met them in front and joined battle, fighting desperately with might and main; and finally we put them to flight and chased them to their caves. The enemy lost one hundred and seventy men; we lost one, and the pilot was wounded in the back with the rib of a mullet.
1.38.1
That day and night we encamped on the battle-field, and raised a trophy by fixing the dried spine of a dolphin upright. But the next day all the others who had learned what was going on presented themselves. The Dried-herrings were on the right wing, with Pelamos in command, the Tunnyheads were on the left, and the Crab-claws occupied the centre. The Triton-weasels remained neutral, not choosing to join either side. We took the initiative, advanced to meet them, and engaged with a great shout close by the temple of Poseidon. The hollow chamber echoed our cry as if it had been a cavern. We routed them, unarmed as they were, and chasing them into the depths of the forest, made ourselves masters of the rest of the country.
1.39.1
Soon after they sent messengers, who gathered up their dead and discussed an alliance; but we decided not to treat with them. On the contrary, we marched against them next day, and literally cut them to pieces, with the exception of the Triton-weasels. These, when they saw what had happened, rushed out through the gills and threw themselves into the sea. We marched into the country, stripped already of enemies, and dwelt securely thereafter, instituting exercises of various sorts and hunting; and we cultivated the vines, and gathered the fruits from the trees, and were in every respect like well-fed prisoners left at large in a great prison, from which escape was impossible. We lived in this fashion for a year and eight months;
1.40.1
but on the fifth day of the ninth month I rose at about the second yawning of the whale -for he opened his mouth once in every hour, so that we reckoned our time by it—well, about the second yawning, as I said, a sudden great uproar was heard, and what sounded like the commands of officers and the rhythmic cry of rowers. Startled, as you may suppose, we crept up to the very mouth of the monster, and standing inside the teeth, we beheld the most amazing sight I ever saw-namely, giants a hundred yards tall, sailing towards one another on huge islands as if they were triremes. Now I know that what I am going to recount will seem highly incredible, nevertheless I shall tell it. The islands were long, but not particularly high, and each was as much as twelve miles in circumference. About twenty-eight of the giants sailed on each, part of them seated in order on either side, and rowing with great pine-treesbranches, leaves and all—for oars. Aft, as if on the poop, stood the pilot on a high hill, handling a bronze rudder five hundred yards long. At the prow stood as many as forty in armor, fighting. They were like men in all respects save their hair, but that was of flaming fire, so that they had no need of helmets. They had no sails, but the wind, striking against the trees, which grew in forests on each, filled them, and drove the island whithersoever the pilot wished. A boatswain stood over the rowers to give them their time, and the islands moved quickly at his order like so many great ships.
1.41.1
At first we saw only two or three islands, but afterwards as many as six hundred appeared, ranged themselves in opposition, and began a naval battle. Many dashed against each other's prows, many were run into and sunk, but some grappled and fought vigorously, and could not easily be shaken off, for the warriors at the prow showed the greatest spirit in boarding the other vessel and killing her men, but no one took a prisoner alive. Instead of grappling-irons they threw great polyps, fastened one to another. These entangled themselves in the trees and so held the island itself. Their missiles and weapons were oysters large enough to fill a cart and sponges thirty yards round.
1.42.1
The commander on one side was Fleet-foot, on the other Sea-Drinker. The cause of the battle appeared to be a dispute about plunder, for Sea-Drinker was said to have driven off many herds of dolphins belonging to Fleetfoot, as we could hear from what they shouted to one another, and in the same way we learned the names of the kings. Finally, Fleet-foot and his party were victorious, and they sank about a hundred and fifty of the enemy's islands and captured three more with their crews, but the others backed water and fled. The victors gave chase for a while, but when evening had fallen they returned to where the débris floated, took possession of most of the enemies' belongings and recovered their own; for not less than eighty of their own islands had sunk. They also raised a trophy in honor of the victory on the whale's head, by setting one of the enemy's islands on a post. That night they encamped round the whale, floating close by, having fastened their hawsers and anchors to him, for they had anchors, too-large ones made of glass and very strong. The next day they sacrificed on the whale, buried their comrades on him, and sailed off rejoicing and apparently singing a song of victory. Such are the details of the island engagement.
2.1.1
From this time our life in the whale became insupportable to me; I chafed against our imprisonment, and sought some device that would make escape possible. My first idea was to dig through the right side and make our way out, and we began the excavation. But when we had advanced as much as a thousand yards and accomplished nothing, we gave over digging, and decided to set fire to the forest, for this would kill the whale, and if he should die we could easily get out. Accordingly, we set fire to it, beginning from the tail, and for seven days and as many nights he paid no attention to the burning. But on the eighth and ninth days we saw he felt ill—at least he opened his mouth more languidly, and when he did open it, shut it again on the instant. On the tenth and eleventh days he grew rigid, and began to smell.
2.2.1
On the twelfth we perceived just in time that, unless we propped his teeth open when he yawned so that they could not close again, we were in danger of being shut up in the corpse and perishing with him. When we had accordingly propped the mouth open with great beams we got the ship ready, and put in as much water as we could and the other provisions. Skintharos was to be captain. Next day the whale died. We dragged the ship up, guided it through the openings between the teeth, and lowering it by ropes attached to them, sank gently into the sea. We disembarked on the whale's back, sacrificed to Poseidon, and encamped there three days beside the trophy, for there was no wind. On the third day we sailed away. In the neighborhood we fell in with a number of bodies from the sea-fight. We pushed our way through them, and took their measure with amazement. For some days we sailed with a temperate wind; but then it came on to blow violently from the north, a great frost prevailed, and the whole sea froze, not on the surface only, but to a depth of four hundred fathoms, so that we could disembark and run on the ice. But as the wind continued and we were no longer able to endure it, we devised the following plan-Skintharos was the author of it: We dug a great cave in the ice, and there we dwelt for thirty days, building a fire and living on fish, which we found by digging. When at last our food failed we came out, and hauled the frozen ship out of the ice. Then we spread the sails and swept along as if we were sailing, gliding smoothly and gently over the ice. On the fifth day it grew warm, the ice melted, and everything became water again.
2.3.1
After we had sailed as much as thirty-four miles we touched at a small uninhabited island, where we took in water-for ours had already given out-and shot two wild bulls, and set sail again. These bulls did not have their horns on their foreheads but beneath their eyes, as Momos thought they ought to be. Shortly after we entered a sea, not of water, but of milk, and we sighted a white island in it covered with vines. This island was an enormous cheese, very compact, as we learned later by eating of it. It was three miles in circumference. The vines were full of grapes; but it was milk, not wine, that we squeezed from them and drank. There was a temple in the middle of the island erected to Galatea the Nereid, as we learned from the inscription. As long as we stayed there the earth supplied us with food, both substantial and light, and for drink we had the milk from the grapes. Tyro, daughter of Salmoneus, was said to be queen of these parts, having been thus honored by Poseidon after her death.
2.4.1
We stayed five days in the island, and set sail on the sixth with a favorable wind and a smooth sea. On the eighth day, when we had sailed out of the milk and into salt, blue water, we perceived a number of persons running on the sea, like ourselves in every detail of body and stature, except only their feet, for these were of cork. I suppose that is why they were called Corkfeet. We were astonished when we saw they did not sink, but skimmed over the waves and serenely pursued their course. They approached us and even greeted us, and told us in Greek that they were hurrying to Cork, their native land. Accordingly, they accompanied us some distance, running alongside; then they turned from our course and went off, wishing us a fair voyage. Shortly after we sighted a number of islands, among them Cork, whither they were hastening. It was near us on the left hand, and was a city set on a high round cork. Farther on, and more to the right, were five very large, high islands, with great fires blazing up from them.
2.5.1
But off our bow there lay a single island, broad and low, not less than sixty miles in extent. As soon as we came near it a wonderful air breathed about us, sweet and fragrant, such an odor as the historian Herodotus says comes from Araby the Blest. It was like the fragrance of roses and narcissus and hyacinths and lilies and violets, with myrtle and laurel and grape-blossoms added, such a sweetness it was that fell upon us. As this fragrance reached our senses and raised in us hopes of the best of fortune after our long distresses, we drew little by little nearer to the island. Then we perceived that it was girt with harbors where no waves broke, and that great, clear rivers rolled quietly into the sea. We saw meadows, too, and woods, and tuneful birds, some singing on the beach and many more in the branches. And the land was steeped in a light, gentle-breathing air. Certain sweet breezes blew softly through the wood and shook it, and even the branches as they moved gave forth a pleasant, continuous sound like the strains of flutes left hanging in the trees. There was a sound, too, of many mingled voices, not discordant, but such as you would hear at a banquet when the flutes are heard and some of the guests speak out their praise, and some applaud with their hands, in accord with the flute or the cither.
2.6.1
Enchanted by all this we ran our ship in, anchored her, and went ashore, leaving Skintharos and two of our comrades aboard. As we were advancing through the flowery meadows we came upon the sentinels and coastguards, who bound us with garlands of roses for these are the heaviest bonds they use-and led us before the ruler. On the road we learned from them that this was called the Island of the Blest, ruled by Rhadamanthos of Krete. When we were brought into his presence our case was the fourth in order for decision.
2.7.1
The first was that of Telamonian Ajax, to decide whether or not it was fitting for him to dwell with the heroes. The charge against him was that he had slain himself in frenzy. At last, after much debate, Rhadamanthos decided thus: for the present he was to be handed over to Hippokrates of Kos, the doctor, to drink hellebore, and afterwards, when he should have regained his senses, he was to be admitted to the feasts of the heroes.
2.8.1
The second was a sentimental case, in which Theseus and Menelaos disputed which had a right to Helen. Rhadamanthos decided that she belonged to Menelaos, because he had undergone such toils and dangers on account of his marriage with her. And he pointed out that Theseus. on the other hand, had other wives, the Amazon and the daughters of Minos.
2.9.1
The third case was a question of precedence between Alexander, son of Philip, and Hannibal the Carthaginian. It was decided that the pas belonged to Alexander, and a chair was set for him beside Cyros the Elder, of Persia.
2.10.1
As the fourth case we were brought forward. He asked what circumstances had brought us, still living men, within sacred precincts, and we told him the whole story in order. He then sent us aside for some time and considered our case, discussing it with his colleagues; for many others were on the bench with him, and among them Aristides the Just, of Athens. He announced his decision as follows: we were to pay, after death, the penalty for our curiosity and our voyage; but for the period fixed by him we might stay in the island and dwell with the heroes, and then take ourselves off. He set the day of our departure at not more than seven months' distance.
2.11.1
Thereupon the garlands fell from us of their own accord, leaving us free, and we were led into the city, and to the banquet-hall of the blest. The city itself is all of gold, but the wall around it is of emerald. There were seven gates, each a single piece of cinnamon. But the streets of the city and the ground within the walls were ivory. The temples of all the gods were built of beryll stone, and the great altars in them, on which hecatombs are offered, are single amethysts. Around the city flows a river of the sweetest unguents, fifty yards broad and twenty-five deep, so that one may swim in it pleasantly. The baths of this country are great buildings of crystal filled with the fragrance of burning cinnamon. But, instead of water, there is warm dew in the pools.
2.12.1
For garments the people wear delicate purple spiders' webs. They themselves have no bodies; they are impalpable and fleshless, and present to the eye nothing but a shape, a contour. But although they are thus disembodied, they yet have consistency, move, reason, and utter speech. In fact, it is just as though their naked souls were walking about, wearing the likeness of their bodies. At any rate, unless you should lay hold of one of them, you would not detect that what your eye rested on was incorporeal. They are like shadows, except that they are upright and not dark. No one grows old; each remains at the age he had when he came. Nor is there any night with them, or very bright day either, for the light that pervades the land is like that white radiance of dawn before the sun has risen. Moreover, they know only one time of year, for it is always spring there, and the south wind is the only one that blows.
2.13.1
The country blooms with all sorts of flowers and of green things, too, cultivated plants and shady forest-trees. The vines bear twelve times a year, bringing forth their fruit every month. But the pears and apples and other fruits are said to come thirteen times yearly, for in one month, called there the month of Minos, the trees bear twice. Instead of grain the ears bear loaves, ready for eating, on their heads like mushrooms. There are three hundred and sixty-five springs of water about the city, as many more of honey, and five hundred of perfumed oil; but these are smaller. There are seven rivers of milk and eight of wine.
2.14.1
The place of their banquets is outside the city, in what is called the Elysian Field. It is a very beautiful meadow surrounded by a dense wood of all sorts of trees, which shade the guests as they lie beneath them on beds of blossoms. The winds wait upon the guests and serve them with everything but wine. This they need not serve, for surrounding the place are great trees of the clearest crystal, and the fruits of these trees are wine-cups of every sort of workmanship and size. So that, when any one comes to table, he gathers one or two of the cups and sets them beside him, and they are straightway filled with wine. This, then, is the manner of their drinking, and as for garlands, they have none, but the nightingales and other tuneful birds gather flowers from the neighboring meadows in their beaks, and let them fall like snow as they fly over the guests, singing the while. And I will tell you how they are anointed with perfumes. Thick clouds draw up perfume from the springs and the river; then they station themselves above the banquet, and when the winds gently press them they let fall a light rain like dew.
2.15.1
At the feast they amuse themselves with music and singing, and their favorites are the songs of Homer; for he is there in person and feasts with them, sitting next above Odysseus. The choruses are composed of youths and maidens, and Eunomos of Lokris, Arion of Lesbos, Anakreon and Stesichoros conduct them and sing with them. For Stesichoros, too, I saw there, as Helen had already made it up with him. When these cease singing a second chorus comes forward, composed of swans and swallows and nightingales. As soon as they begin to sing, the whole forest, set going by the winds, accompanies them on the flute.
2.16.1
But the greatest incentive they have to good cheer is this: there are two springs near the feasting-place, one of laughter and the other of pleasure. Every one drinks from each of these at the beginning of the merry-making, and the rest of the time is spent with pleasure and laughter.
2.17.1
I wish to tell you, also, what famous persons I saw there. There were all the demi-gods and the heroes who went on the Trojan expedition, with the exception of Lokrian Ajax; he, they said, was being punished in the realm of the wicked. Among the barbarians there were both the Cyruses, Anacharsis the Scythian, Zamolxis the Thracian, and Numa the Italian. Sparta was represented by Lykourgos, and Athens by Phokion, Tellos, and all the sages except Periander. I also saw Sokrates, son of Sophroniskos, gossipping with Nestor and Palamedes. Round him were Hyakinthos of Lacedaemon, Narkissos of Thespiae, Hylas, and many other handsome lads, and it seemed to me that he was fond of Hyakinthos. At all events, he often put him down in argument. It was rumored that Rhadamanthos was out of temper with Sokrates, and had often threatened to banish him from the island if he continued his nonsense and was not willing to stop revelling in his irony. Plato only was not there, and I was told that he was living himself in the city he had fashioned, under the constitution and laws with which he endowed it in his writings.
2.18.1
Aristippos, however, and Epicuros held the greatest honors there, because they were charming and agreeable and most convivial. Aesop the Phrygian was there, too, and held the office of court-jester. Diogenes of Sinope had so altered his ways as to marry Lais, the courtesan, and was given to getting up and dancing when he was drunk, and playing other drunken tricks. Not one of the Stoics was there, for they were said to be still climbing the steep hill of "the higher life." And I heard this of Chrysippos himself, that it was not permitted to him to come to the island until he had completed his fourth course of hellebore-treatment. They said that the Academics wished to come, but were still suspending their judgment and considering the matter, for they had not yet an apprehension even of this, whether there be any such island or no. I imagine they particularly dreaded the judgment of Rhadamanthos, for by their principles they deny any standard for forming judgments. They asserted that many of their number set out to follow these who actually arrived, but were so deliberate that they were left behind, and turned back when they had come half-way.
2.19.1
These, then, were the most noteworthy people there. The person most looked up to was Achilles, and next after him Theseus.
2.20.1
Before more than two or three days had passed I approached Homer, the poet, when we were both at leisure, and asked him several questions; among others, what his birthplace was, telling him that this was a great subject of research among us to this day. He said he was aware already that some believe he was born in Chios, some in Smyrna, and many in Colophon. He was, however (he said), a Babylonian, and in his own country was called not Homer, but Tigranes. But when later he made his home in Greece as a hostage he changed his name. I also asked him about those verses in his poems rejected by the critics, whether they were written by him or not, and he declared they were all his. As you will imagine, this filled me with contempt for the callous criticism of the commentators Zenodotos and Aristarchos. When he had satisfied me on these points, I asked what in the world was his reason for beginning his poem with the word "wrath." He said that was the way it came into his head, and he took no pains about it. I was eager to know this, too: whether he wrote the Odyssey before the Iliad, as most critics declare; but he said he did not. As to that other story about him, that he was blind, I very soon perceived that it was false, for he saw, so that there was no need even to put the question. I repeated my action frequently when I saw him unoccupied, going up to him and interrogating him. He answered me cordially, especially after he had won his lawsuit. An indictment for slander had been brought against him by Thersites, on the ground of the scoffs against him in Homer's poems. But Homer won the suit, having Odysseus as counsel.
2.21.1
During this same time Pythagoras of Samos also put in an appearance after his seventh transformation, his lives in the forms of as many animals, and his completion of the cycles of the soul. His whole right thigh was of gold. He was judged worthy to dwell with the others, but there was doubt whether he ought to be called Pythagoras or Euphorbos. Empedokles also came, done to a turn, with his whole body roasted. He, however, was not admitted, though he begged hard.
2.22.1
Some time after this their games were held in honor of the Festival of the Dead. Achilles presided for the fifth time and Theseus for the seventh. A full description would be too lengthy, but I will narrate the most important events. Karos, of the line of Hercules, won the wrestling prize, although he had Odysseus for a competitor. The boxing-match was a tie between Areion the Egyptian, who is buried in Corinth, and Epeios, who contended together. For the all-round contest they offer no prize there, and as for the footrace, I no longer remember who was the winner. Among the poets Homer was easily the real victor, but nevertheless Hesiod won the prize. The prize for all alike was a wreath woven of peacock's feathers.
2.23.1
Hardly were the games at an end when word was brought that the criminals who were being punished in the realm of the wicked had broken their chains and overpowered the guard, and were marching against the island. Phalaris of Agrigentum was in command, the report said, with Busiris the Egyptian, the Thracian Diomede, and Skeiron and the Pine-bender, with their followers. When Rhadamanthos heard these tidings he marshalled the heroes on the beach, the commanders being Theseus, Achilles, and Telamonian Ajax, who had by this time recovered his wits. The forces joined battle and the heroes were victorious, owing chiefly to the exploits of Achilles. Sokrates, too, distinguished himself in the right wing much more than at the battle of Delium, while he was living. For when the enemy advanced he kept his place with unflinching front. As a reward for his bravery a prize was bestowed on him later in the shape of a very large and beautiful garden in the suburbs, where he assembled his followers and conversed with them, calling the place the Academy of the Dead.
2.24.1
The vanquished were collected, of course, and sent back again in irons to still greater punishments. Homer wrote an account of this battle, too, and presented me with a copy on my departure for me to carry to men in this land, but I lost it afterwards, with my other belongings. The first line of the poem was this: Sing to me now, O Muse, the wars of the shades of the heroes. Their next proceeding was to cook some beans, according to their custom after a successful war, and hold a festival of victory with a great banquet. But Pythagoras alone would not partake. He sat a distance fasting, and filled with loathing at the eating of beans.
2.25.1
Six months had already gone by and half of the seventh when a disaster happened. Kinyras, Skintharos's son, tall and handsome, had for some time already been in love with Helen, who, on her side, made no secret of her lively passion for the youth. At any rate, they were constantly making signs to one another at table and pledging each other as they drank their wine, and then they would rise and wander off alone in the forest. Well, at last Kinyras, urged on by his passion and his helpless condition, conceived the plan of stealing Helen and running off with her. She, too, approved the idea of going off to one of the neighboring islands, either Cork or Cheeseland. They had some time ago taken three of my most valiant comrades into the conspiracy, but Kinyras had not mentioned it to his father, for he knew he would hinder him. They carried out their preconcerted plan. The night came. I was not at hand, for I happened to be asleep in the banquet-hall. The conspirators eluded the others, captured Helen, and set sail in haste.
2.26.1
About midnight Menelaus awoke, and, finding his wife gone, he gave the alarm and went with his brother to the king, Rhadamanthos. At daybreak the watchmen brought word that they could make out the ship at a great distance. Accordingly Rhadamanthos ordered fifty of the heroes into a vessel made of a single log of asphodel, and bade them give chase. They rowed with a will, and overtook the fugitives towards noon just as they were entering the sea of milk in the neighborhood of Cheeseland; so near were they to getting off! They made the ship fast to their own with a chain of roses and sailed back, Helen weeping for shame behind her veil. Kinyras and his followers were first asked by Rhadamanthos whether they had any other accomplices, and when they said they had not, he bound them, flogged them with mallows, and sent them off to the realm of the wicked.
2.27.1
They decided that we, too, must be sent out of the island on short notice, giving us only the following day. Thereupon I burst into lamentations and wept at the thought of leaving so many delights and setting forth on my wanderings again. But the heroes heartened me by saying that before many years I should return to them, and they showed me a chair and a couch made ready against that day near the noblest. I went to Rhadamanthos and begged and besought him to read the future for me and map out my voyage, and he told me I should return to my native land after many wanderings and dangers, but he persisted in refusing to set the time of my arrival. However, he pointed out the neighboring islands, of which five were visible, with a sixth in the distance, and told me these were the islands of the wicked, these nearer ones, “from which," said he, "you see the great fires flaming up, and the sixth, yonder, is the City of Dreams. Beyond this is Kalypso's island, but you cannot see it from here. When you have sailed past these you will come to the great continent which is opposite your own. There you will have many adventures and pass among all sorts of tribes, and visit barbarous people, and in time you will come to the other continent."
2.28.1
So much he told me; and, plucking a mallow-root from the earth, he handed it to me, bidding me call upon this in my greatest perils. He also laid these injunctions on me in case I should ever get back to this country: never to stir the fire with my sword, never to eat beans, and never to kiss a girl more than eighteen years old. If I should keep these rules in mind I might confidently hope to return to the island. After this I made ready for the voyage, and when the time was come I feasted together with them. The next morning I went to Homer, the poet, to ask him to write me a distich for an inscription, and when he had composed it I erected a pillar of beryll stone above the harbor, and inscribed it as follows: Lucian, beloved of the gods who dwell in bliss everlasting, Saw these realms, and then returned to the land of his fathers.
2.29.1
This was our last day; on the next we set forth, escorted by the heroes. At this juncture Odysseus, too, came to me unbeknownst to Penelope, and gave me a letter to carry to Kalypso in the island of Ogygia. [The first land made by Lucian on this voyage was one of the Islands of the Wicked, where Timon of Athens was gate-keeper. Here he saw Kinyras and others in torment, but the severest punishments were reserved for liars and inaccurate historians, among whom he saw Ktesias the Knidian and Herodotus. Thence he sailed to the Island of Dreams, and so to Ogygia.]
2.35.1
On the third day thereafter we made the island of Ogygia and went ashore, but first I opened the letter and read the contents. It ran as follows:
2.35.2
ODYSSEUS GREETS KALYPSO.
2.35.3
Know that as soon as I sailed away from your island on the raft I had built I suffered shipwreck, and was only just saved by Leukothea and brought to the country of the Phaeacians. They conveyed me to my own land, where I found my wife's numerous suitors revelling at my expense. I killed them all, but was afterwards taken off by Telegonos, my son by Circe. At present I am in the Island of the Blest, repenting deeply that I left your hospitality and the immortality you offered me, and as soon as I get a chance I will make my escape and come to you."
2.35.4
This was what the letter said, together with a request that she would show us hospitality.
2.36.1
When I had advanced a short distance from the sea I found a cave such as Homer described, and the lady herself spinning wool. When she had taken the letter and read it through she burst into tears and wept a long time, but after a while she invited us to dinner and feasted us nobly. She asked questions about Odysseus and about Penelope, what she was like to look at, and whether her good sense was so remarkable as Odysseus used to boast it. We made such answers as we thought would be agreeable to her. Then we went off to the ship and bivouacked near by on the beach.
2.47.1
These, then, were my adventures on the sea, during my voyage among the islands, in the air, afterwards in the whale and when we had escaped thence, and among the heroes . . . until I reached the opposite continent. What happened to me on land I will describe in the following books.

Perseus Greek. CTS URN tlg0062.tlg012.perseus-eng5. Via the Perseus Digital Library / Open Greek and Latin TEI corpora. Licence: Available under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. Source.