"Yet in this she did not well," replied Alcinous, "that she brought
thee not straightway to this house, but suffered thee to find thy way
alone."

"Nay, blame her not," answered Odysseus, "she bade me come hither with
herself and the maidens, but I feared to offend thee, and chose to
come alone."

"Think not that I am so hasty, or given to causeless anger," said
Alcinous; "excess in all things is evil."[1] Then he looked earnestly
at Odysseus, and continued, after a pause: "I would to heaven that thy
thoughts were as mine; then wouldst thou abide for ever in this land,
and take my daughter to wife, and I would give thee house and lands.
But I see that thou art steadfastly purposed to leave us; and none
shall detain thee against thy will. To-morrow thou shalt go. I will
appoint a ship and a crew, and they shall bear thee sleeping to thine
own land, yea though it be more distant than far Euboea, which lies,
as I am told, in the uttermost parts of the earth. Yet the Phæacians
went thither in their ships, and returned on the same day. They have
no equals, as thou shalt soon learn, in seamanship, and no ships in
all the world are like mine."

[Footnote 1: _Nothing too much_, the corner-stone of Greek morality.]

After some further talk they parted for the night, and Odysseus, after
all his hardships, was right glad to lay him down in the soft bed
prepared for him in the gallery before the house. But before he closed
his eyes he muttered a prayer to Zeus that Alcinous might abide by his
promise, and send him safely home.