and see with their eyes whether the monster would remain upon the deck of the hollow ship, or spring back into the briny deep where fishes shoal.  But the well-built ship would not obey the helm, but went on its way all along Peloponnesus:  and the lord, far-working Apollo, guided it easily with the breath of the breeze.  So the ship ran on its course and came to Arena and lovely Argyphea and Thryon, the ford of Alpheus, and well-placed Aepy and sandy Pylos and the men of Pylos; past Cruni it went and Chalcis and past Dyme and fair Elis, where the Epei rule.  And at the time when she was making for Pherae, exulting in the breeze from Zeus, there appeared to them below the clouds the steep mountain of Ithaca, and Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus.  But when they were passed by all the coast of Peloponnesus, then, towards Crisa, that vast gulf began to heave in sight which through all its length cuts off the rich isle of Pelops.  There came on them a strong, clear west-wind by ordinance of Zeus and blew from heaven vehemently, that with all speed the ship might finish coursing over the briny water of the sea.  So they began again to voyage back towards the dawn and the sun:  and the lord Apollo, son of Zeus, led them on until they reached far-seen Crisa, land of vines, and into haven:  there the sea-coursing ship grounded on the sands.

(ll. 440-451) Then, like a star at noonday, the lord, far-working Apollo, leaped from the ship:  flashes of fire flew from him thick and their brightness reached to heaven.  He entered into his shrine between priceless tripods, and there made a flame to flare up bright, showing forth the splendour of his shafts, so that their radiance filled all Crisa, and the wives and well-girded daughters of the Crisaeans raised a cry at that outburst of Phoebus; for he cast great fear upon them all.  From his shrine he sprang forth again, swift as a thought, to speed again to the ship, bearing the form of a man, brisk and sturdy, in the prime of his youth, while his broad shoulders were covered with his hair:  and he spoke to the Cretans, uttering winged words: 

(ll. 452-461) `Strangers, who are you?  Whence come you sailing along the paths of the sea?  Are you for traffic, or do you wander at random over the sea as pirates do who put their own lives to hazard and bring mischief to men of foreign parts as they roam?  Why rest you so and are afraid, and do not go ashore nor stow the gear of your black ship?  For that is the custom of men who live by bread, whenever they come to land in their dark ships from the main, spent with toil; at once desire for sweet food catches them about the heart.’