“Nausicaae, how did your mother bear a child so heedless?  Your gay clothes lie uncared for, though the wedding time is near, when you must wear fine clothes yourself and furnish them to those that may attend you.  From things like these a good repute arises, and father and honored mother are made glad.  Then let us go a-washing at the dawn of day, and I will go to help, that you may soon be ready; for really not much longer will you be a maid.  Already you have for suitors the chief ones of the land throughout Phaeacia, where you too were born.  Come, then, beg your good father early in the morning to harness the mules and cart, so as to carry the men’s clothes, gowns, and bright-hued rugs.  Yes, and for you yourself it is more decent so than setting forth on foot; the pools are far from the town.”

Saying this, clear-eyed Athene passed away, off to Olympus, where they say the dwelling of the gods stands fast forever.  Never with winds is it disturbed, nor by the rain made wet, nor does the snow come near; but everywhere the upper air spreads cloudless, and a bright radiance plays over all; and there the blessed gods are happy all their days.  Thither now came the clear-eyed one, when she had spoken with the maid.

Soon bright-throned morning came, and waked fair-robed Nausicaae.  She marveled at the dream, and hastened through the house to tell it to her parents, her dear father and her mother.  She found them still in-doors:  her mother sat by the hearth among the waiting-women, spinning sea-purple yarn; she met her father at the door, just going forth to join the famous princes at the council, to which the high Phaeacians summoned him.  So standing close beside him, she said to her dear father:—­

“Papa dear, could you not have the wagon harnessed for me,—­the high one, with good wheels,—­to take my nice clothes to the river to be washed, which now are lying dirty?  Surely for you yourself it is but proper, when you are with the first men holding councils, that you should wear clean clothing.  Five good sons too are here at home,—­two married, and three merry young men still,—­and they are always wanting to go to the dance wearing fresh clothes.  And this is all a trouble on my mind.”

Such were her words, for she was shy of naming the glad marriage to her father; but he understood it all, and answered thus: 

“I do not grudge the mules, my child, nor anything beside.  Go!  Quickly shall the servants harness the wagon for you, the high one, with good wheels, fitted with rack above.”

Saying this, he called to the servants, who gave heed.  Out in the court they made the easy mule-cart ready; they brought the mules and yoked them to the wagon.  The maid took from her room her pretty clothing, and stowed it in the polished wagon; her mother put in a chest food the maid liked, of every kind, put dainties in, and poured some wine into a goat-skin bottle,—­the maid, meanwhile, had got into the wagon,—­and gave her in a golden flask some liquid oil, that she might bathe and anoint herself, she and the waiting-women.  Nausicaae took the whip and the bright reins, and cracked the whip to start.  There was a clatter of the mules, and steadily they pulled, drawing the clothing and the maid,—­yet not alone; beside her went the waiting-women too.