Ulysses clung to the raft while any of its timbers kept together, and when it no longer yielded him support, binding the girdle around him, he swam.  Minerva smoothed the billows before him and sent him a wind that rolled the waves towards the shore.  The surf beat high on the rocks and seemed to forbid approach; but at length finding calm water at the mouth of a gentle stream, he landed, spent with toil, breathless and speechless and almost dead.  After some time, reviving, he kissed the soil, rejoicing, yet at a loss what course to take.  At a short distance he perceived a wood, to which he turned his steps.  There, finding a covert sheltered by intermingling branches alike from the sun and the rain, he collected a pile of leaves and formed a bed, on which he stretched himself, and heaping the leaves over him, fell asleep.

The land where he was thrown was Scheria, the country of the Phaeacians.  These people dwelt originally near the Cyclopes; but being oppressed by that savage race, they migrated to the isle of Scheria, under the conduct of Nausithous, their king.  They were, the poet tells us, a people akin to the gods, who appeared manifestly and feasted among them when they offered sacrifices, and did not conceal themselves from solitary wayfarers when they met them.  They had abundance of wealth and lived in the enjoyment of it undisturbed by the alarms of war, for as they dwelt remote from gain-seeking man, no enemy ever approached their shores, and they did not even require to make use of bows and quivers.  Their chief employment was navigation.  Their ships, which went with the velocity of birds, were endued with intelligence; they knew every port and needed no pilot.  Alcinous, the son of Nausithous, was now their king, a wise and just sovereign, beloved by his people.

Now it happened that the very night on which Ulysses was cast ashore on the Phaeacian island, and while he lay sleeping on his bed of leaves, Nausicaa, the daughter of the king, had a dream sent by Minerva, reminding her that her wedding-day was not far distant, and that it would be but a prudent preparation for that event to have a general washing of the clothes of the family.  This was no slight affair, for the fountains were at some distance, and the garments must be carried thither.  On awaking, the princess hastened to her parents to tell them what was on her mind; not alluding to her wedding-day, but finding other reasons equally good.  Her father readily assented and ordered the grooms to furnish forth a wagon for the purpose.  The clothes were put therein, and the queen mother placed in the wagon, likewise, an abundant supply of food and wine.  The princess took her seat and plied the lash, her attendant virgins following her on foot.  Arrived at the river side, they turned out the mules to graze, and unlading the carriage, bore the garments down to the water, and working with cheerfulness and alacrity soon despatched their labor.  Then having spread the garments