p of wine, he poured it out in secret libation to the gods, who had
put into the mind of Demodocus unknowingly to do him so much honour.
But when the moving poet began to tell of other occurrences where
Ulysses had been present, the memory of his brave followers who had
been with him in all difficulties, now swallowed up and lost in the
ocean, and of those kings that had fought with him at Troy, some of
whom were dead, some exiles like himself, forced itself so strongly
upon his mind, that forgetful where he was, he sobbed outright with
passion; which yet he restrained, but not so cunningly but Alcinous
perceived it, and without taking notice of it to Ulysses, privately
gave signs that Demodocus should cease from his singing.

Next followed dancing in the Phaeacian fashion, when they would shew
respect to their guests; which was succeeded by trials of skill, games
of strength, running, racing, hurling of the quoit, mock fights,
hurling of the javelin, shooting with the bow: in some of which
Ulysses modestly challenging his entertainers, performed such feats of
strength and prowess as gave the admiring Phaeacians fresh reason to
imagine that he was either some god, or hero of the race of the gods.

These solemn shows and pageants in honour of his guest, king Alcinous
continued for the space of many days, as if he could never be weary of
shewing courtesies to so worthy a stranger. In all this time he never
asked him his name, nor sought to know more of him than he of his own
accord disclosed: till on a day as they were seated feasting, after
the feast was ended, Demodocus being called, as was the custom, to
sing some grave matter, sang how Ulysses, on that night when Troy
was fired, made dreadful proof of his valour, maintaining singly a
combat against the whole household of Deiphobus, to which the divine
expresser gave both act and passion, and breathed such a fire into
Ulysses's deeds, that it inspired old death with life in the lively
expressing of slaughters, and rendered life so sweet and passionate
in the hearers, that all who heard felt it fleet from them in the
narration: which made Ulysses even pity his own slaughterous deeds,
and feel touches of remorse, to see how song can revive a dead man
from the grave, yet no way can it defend a living man from death: and
in imagination he underwent some part of death's horrors, and felt in
his living body a taste of those dying pangs which he had dealt to
others; that wit