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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Odyssey, by Homer
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: The Odyssey
+
+Author: Homer
+
+Translator: Alexander Pope
+
+Release Date: April, 2002 [eBook #3160]
+[Most recently updated: July 18, 2021]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: Jim Tinsley, Distributed Proofers and David Widger
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ODYSSEY ***
+
+cover
+
+
+
+
+The Odyssey
+
+by Homer
+
+Translated by Alexander Pope
+
+
+Contents
+
+ INTRODUCTION.
+ THE ODYSSEY OF HOMER
+ BOOK I.
+ BOOK II.
+ BOOK III.
+ BOOK IV.
+ BOOK V.
+ BOOK VI.
+ BOOK VII.
+ BOOK VIII.
+ BOOK IX.
+ BOOK X.
+ BOOK XI.
+ BOOK XII.
+ BOOK XIII.
+ BOOK XIV.
+ BOOK XV.
+ BOOK XVI.
+ BOOK XVII.
+ BOOK XVIII.
+ BOOK XIX.
+ BOOK XX.
+ BOOK XXI.
+ BOOK XXII.
+ BOOK XXIII.
+ BOOK XXIV.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+Scepticism is as much the result of knowledge, as knowledge is of
+scepticism. To be content with what we at present know, is, for the
+most part, to shut our ears against conviction; since, from the very
+gradual character of our education, we must continually forget, and
+emancipate ourselves from, knowledge previously acquired; we must set
+aside old notions and embrace fresh ones; and, as we learn, we must be
+daily unlearning something which it has cost us no small labour and
+anxiety to acquire.
+
+And this difficulty attaches itself more closely to an age in which
+progress has gained a strong ascendency over prejudice, and in which
+persons and things are, day by day, finding their real level, in lieu
+of their conventional value. The same principles which have swept away
+traditional abuses, and which are making rapid havoc among the revenues
+of sinecurists, and stripping the thin, tawdry veil from attractive
+superstitions, are working as actively in literature as in society. The
+credulity of one writer, or the partiality of another, finds as
+powerful a touchstone and as wholesome a chastisement in the healthy
+scepticism of a temperate class of antagonists, as the dreams of
+conservatism, or the impostures of pluralist sinecures in the Church.
+History and tradition, whether of ancient or comparatively recent
+times, are subjected to very different handling from that which the
+indulgence or credulity of former ages could allow. Mere statements are
+jealously watched, and the motives of the writer form as important an
+ingredient in the analysis of his history, as the facts he records.
+Probability is a powerful and troublesome test; and it is by this
+troublesome standard that a large portion of historical evidence is
+sifted. Consistency is no less pertinacious and exacting in its
+demands. In brief, to write a history, we must know more than mere
+facts. Human nature, viewed under an introduction of extended
+experience, is the best help to the criticism of human history.
+Historical characters can only be estimated by the standard which human
+experience, whether actual or traditionary, has furnished. To form
+correct views of individuals we must regard them as forming parts of a
+great whole—we must measure them by their relation to the mass of
+beings by whom they are surrounded; and, in contemplating the incidents
+in their lives or condition which tradition has handed down to us, we
+must rather consider the general bearing of the whole narrative, than
+the respective probability of its details.
+
+It is unfortunate for us, that, of some of the greatest men, we know
+least, and talk most. Homer, Socrates, and Shakespere have, perhaps,
+contributed more to the intellectual enlightenment of mankind than any
+other three writers who could be named, and yet the history of all
+three has given rise to a boundless ocean of discussion, which has left
+us little save the option of choosing which theory or theories we will
+follow. The personality of Shakespere is, perhaps, the only thing in
+which critics will allow us to believe without controversy; but upon
+everything else, even down to the authorship of plays, there is more or
+less of doubt and uncertainty. Of Socrates we know as little as the
+contradictions of Plato and Xenophon will allow us to know. He was one
+of the _dramatis personæ_ in two dramas as unlike in principles as in
+style. He appears as the enunciator of opinions as different in their
+tone as those of the writers who have handed them down. When we have
+read Plato _or_ Xenophon, we think we know something of Socrates; when
+we have fairly read and examined both, we feel convinced that we are
+something worse than ignorant.
+
+It has been an easy, and a popular expedient of late years, to deny the
+personal or real existence of men and things whose life and condition
+were too much for our belief. This system—which has often comforted the
+religious sceptic, and substituted the consolations of Strauss for
+those of the New Testament—has been of incalculable value to the
+historical theorists of the last and present centuries. To question the
+existence of Alexander the Great, would be a more excusable act, than
+to believe in that of Romulus. To deny a fact related in Herodotus,
+because it is inconsistent with a theory developed from an Assyrian
+inscription which no two scholars read in the same way, is more
+pardonable, than to believe in the good-natured old king whom the
+elegant pen of Florian has idealized—_Numa Pompilius_.
+
+Scepticism has attained its culminating point with respect to Homer,
+and the state of our Homeric knowledge may be described as a free
+permission to believe any theory, provided we throw overboard all
+written tradition, concerning the author or authors of the Iliad and
+Odyssey. What few authorities exist on the subject, are summarily
+dismissed, although the arguments appear to run in a circle. “This
+cannot be true, because it is not true; and that is not true, because
+it cannot be true.” Such seems to be the style, in which testimony upon
+testimony, statement upon statement, is consigned to denial and
+oblivion.
+
+It is, however, unfortunate that the professed biographies of Homer are
+partly forgeries, partly freaks of ingenuity and imagination, in which
+truth is the requisite most wanting. Before taking a brief review of
+the Homeric theory in its present conditions, some notice must be taken
+of the treatise on the Life of Homer which has been attributed to
+Herodotus.
+
+According to this document, the city of Cumae in AEolia was, at an
+early period, the seat of frequent immigrations from various parts of
+Greece. Among the immigrants was Menapolus, the son of Ithagenes.
+Although poor, he married, and the result of the union was a girl named
+Critheis. The girl was left an orphan at an early age, under the
+guardianship of Cleanax, of Argos. It is to the indiscretion of this
+maiden that we “are indebted for so much happiness.” Homer was the
+first fruit of her juvenile frailty, and received the name of
+Melesigenes from having been born near the river Meles in Bœotia,
+whither Critheis had been transported in order to save her reputation.
+
+“At this time,” continues our narrative, “there lived at Smyrna a man
+named Phemius, a teacher of literature and music, who, not being
+married, engaged Critheis to manage his household, and spin the flax he
+received as the price of his scholastic labours. So satisfactory was
+her performance of this task, and so modest her conduct, that he made
+proposals of marriage, declaring himself, as a further inducement,
+willing to adopt her son, who, he asserted, would become a clever man,
+if he were carefully brought up.”
+
+They were married; careful cultivation ripened the talents which nature
+had bestowed, and Melesigenes soon surpassed his schoolfellows in every
+attainment, and, when older, rivalled his preceptor in wisdom. Phemius
+died, leaving him sole heir to his property, and his mother soon
+followed. Melesigenes carried on his adopted father’s school with great
+success, exciting the admiration not only of the inhabitants of Smyrna,
+but also of the strangers whom the trade carried on there, especially
+in the exportation of corn, attracted to that city. Among these
+visitors, one Mentes, from Leucadia, the modern Santa Maura, who
+evinced a knowledge and intelligence rarely found in those times,
+persuaded Melesigenes to close his school, and accompany him on his
+travels. He promised not only to pay his expenses, but to furnish him
+with a further stipend, urging, that, “While he was yet young, it was
+fitting that he should see with his own eyes the countries and cities
+which might hereafter be the subjects of his discourses.” Melesigenes
+consented, and set out with his patron, “examining all the curiosities
+of the countries they visited, and informing himself of everything by
+interrogating those whom he met.” We may also suppose, that he wrote
+memoirs of all that he deemed worthy of preservation. Having set sail
+from Tyrrhenia and Iberia, they reached Ithaca. Here Melesigenes, who
+had already suffered in his eyes, became much worse; and Mentes, who
+was about to leave for Leucadia, left him to the medical
+superintendence of a friend of his, named Mentor, the son of Alcinor.
+Under his hospitable and intelligent host, Melesigenes rapidly became
+acquainted with the legends respecting Ulysses, which afterwards formed
+the subject of the Odyssey. The inhabitants of Ithaca assert, that it
+was here that Melesigenes became blind, but the Colophonians make their
+city the seat of that misfortune. He then returned to Smyrna, where he
+applied himself to the study of poetry.
+
+But poverty soon drove him to Cumae. Having passed over the Hermaean
+plain, he arrived at Neon Teichos, the New Wall, a colony of Cumae.
+Here his misfortunes and poetical talent gained him the friendship of
+one Tychias, an armourer. “And up to my time,” continues the author,
+“the inhabitants showed the place where he used to sit when giving a
+recitation of his verses; and they greatly honoured the spot. Here also
+a poplar grew, which they said had sprung up ever since Melesigenes
+arrived.”
+
+But poverty still drove him on, and he went by way of Larissa, as being
+the most convenient road. Here, the Cumans say, he composed an epitaph
+on Gordius, king of Phrygia, which has however, and with greater
+probability, been attributed to Cleobulus of Lindus.
+
+Arrived at Cumae, he frequented the _conversaziones_ of the old men,
+and delighted all by the charms of his poetry. Encouraged by this
+favourable reception, he declared that, if they would allow him a
+public maintenance, he would render their city most gloriously
+renowned. They avowed their willingness to support him in the measure
+he proposed, and procured him an audience in the council. Having made
+the speech, with the purport of which our author has forgotten to
+acquaint us, he retired, and left them to debate respecting the answer
+to be given to his proposal.
+
+The greater part of the assembly seemed favourable to the poet’s
+demand, but one man “observed that if they were to feed _Homers_, they
+would be encumbered with a multitude of useless people.” “From this
+circumstance,” says the writer, “Melesigenes acquired the name of
+Homer, for the Cumans call blind men _Homers_.” With a love of economy,
+which shows how similar the world has always been in its treatment of
+literary men, the pension was denied, and the poet vented his
+disappointment in a wish that Cumae might never produce a poet capable
+of giving it renown and glory.
+
+At Phocaea Homer was destined to experience another literary distress.
+One Thestorides, who aimed at the reputation of poetical genius, kept
+Homer in his own house, and allowed him a pittance, on condition of the
+verses of the poet passing in his name. Having collected sufficient
+poetry to be profitable, Thestorides, like some would-be literary
+publishers, neglected the man whose brains he had sucked, and left him.
+At his departure, Homer is said to have observed: “O Thestorides, of
+the many things hidden from the knowledge of man, nothing is more
+unintelligible than the human heart.”
+
+Homer continued his career of difficulty and distress, until some Chian
+merchants, struck by the similarity of the verses they heard him
+recite, acquainted him with the fact that Thestorides was pursuing a
+profitable livelihood by the recital of the very same poems. This at
+once determined him to set out for Chios. No vessel happened then to be
+setting sail thither, but he found one ready to start for Erythrae, a
+town of Ionia, which faces that island, and he prevailed upon the
+seamen to allow him to accompany them. Having embarked, he invoked a
+favourable wind, and prayed that he might be able to expose the
+imposture of Thestorides, who, by his breach of hospitality, had drawn
+down the wrath of Jove the Hospitable.
+
+At Erythrae, Homer fortunately met with a person who had known him in
+Phocaea, by whose assistance he at length, after some difficulty,
+reached the little hamlet of Pithys. Here he met with an adventure,
+which we will continue in the words of our author. “Having set out from
+Pithys, Homer went on, attracted by the cries of some goats that were
+pasturing. The dogs barked on his approach, and he cried out. Glaucus
+(for that was the name of the goat-herd) heard his voice, ran up
+quickly, called off his dogs, and drove them away from Homer. For some
+time he stood wondering how a blind man should have reached such a
+place alone, and what could be his design in coming. He then went up to
+him and inquired who he was, and how he had come to desolate places and
+untrodden spots, and of what he stood in need. Homer, by recounting to
+him the whole history of his misfortunes, moved him with compassion;
+and he took him and led him to his cot, and, having lit a fire, bade
+him sup.
+
+“The dogs, instead of eating, kept barking at the stranger, according
+to their usual habit. Whereupon Homer addressed Glaucus thus: O
+Glaucus, my friend, prythee attend to my behest. First give the dogs
+their supper at the doors of the hut: for so it is better, since,
+whilst they watch, nor thief nor wild beast will approach the fold.
+
+“Glaucus was pleased with the advice and marvelled at its author.
+Having finished supper, they banqueted afresh on conversation, Homer
+narrating his wanderings, and telling of the cities he had visited.
+
+“At length they retired to rest; but on the following morning, Glaucus
+resolved to go to his master, and acquaint him with his meeting with
+Homer. Having left the goats in charge of a fellow-servant, he left
+Homer at home, promising to return quickly. Having arrived at Bolissus,
+a place near the farm, and finding his mate, he told him the whole
+story respecting Homer and his journey. He paid little attention to
+what he said, and blamed Glaucus for his stupidity in taking in and
+feeding maimed and enfeebled persons. However, he bade him bring the
+stranger to him.
+
+“Glaucus told Homer what had taken place, and bade him follow him,
+assuring him that good fortune would be the result. Conversation soon
+showed that the stranger was a man of much cleverness and general
+knowledge, and the Chian persuaded him to remain, and to undertake the
+charge of his children.”
+
+Besides the satisfaction of driving the impostor Thestorides from the
+island, Homer enjoyed considerable success as a teacher. In the town of
+Chios he established a school, where he taught the precepts of poetry.
+“To this day,” says Chandler, “the most curious remain is that which
+has been named, without reason, the School of Homer. It is on the
+coast, at some distance from the city, northward, and appears to have
+been an open temple of Cybele, formed on the top of a rock. The shape
+is oval, and in the centre is the image of the goddess, the head and an
+arm wanting. She is represented, as usual, sitting. The chair has a
+lion carved on each side, and on the back. The area is bounded by a low
+rim, or seat, and about five yards over. The whole is hewn out of the
+mountain, is rude, indistinct, and probably of the most remote
+antiquity.”
+
+So successful was this school, that Homer realised a considerable
+fortune. He married, and had two daughters, one of whom died single,
+the other married a Chian.
+
+The following passage betrays the same tendency to connect the
+personages of the poems with the history of the poet, which has already
+been mentioned:—
+
+“In his poetical compositions Homer displays great gratitude towards
+Mentor of Ithaca, in the Odyssey, whose name he has inserted in his
+poem as the companion of Ulysses, in return for the care taken of him
+when afflicted with blindness. He also testifies his gratitude to
+Phemius, who had given him both sustenance and instruction.”
+
+His celebrity continued to increase, and many persons advised him to
+visit Greece whither his reputation had now extended. Having, it is
+said, made some additions to his poems calculated to please the vanity
+of the Athenians, of whose city he had hitherto made no mention, he set
+out for Samos. Here, being recognized by a Samian, who had met with him
+in Chios, he was handsomely received, and invited to join in
+celebrating the Apaturian festival. He recited some verses, which gave
+great satisfaction, and by singing the Eiresione at the New Moon
+festivals, he earned a subsistence, visiting the houses of the rich,
+with whose children he was very popular.
+
+In the spring he sailed for Athens, and arrived at the island of Ios,
+now Ino, where he fell extremely ill, and died. It is said that his
+death arose from vexation, at not having been able to unravel an enigma
+proposed by some fishermen’s children.
+
+Such is, in brief, the substance of the earliest life of Homer we
+possess, and so broad are the evidences of its historical
+worthlessness, that it is scarcely necessary to point them out in
+detail. Let us now consider some of the opinions to which a
+persevering, patient, and learned—but by no means consistent—series of
+investigations has led. In doing so, I profess to bring forward
+statements, not to vouch for their reasonableness or probability.
+
+“Homer appeared. The history of this poet and his works is lost in
+doubtful obscurity, as is the history of many of the first minds who
+have done honour to humanity, because they rose amidst darkness. The
+majestic stream of his song, blessing and fertilizing, flows like the
+Nile, through many lands and nations; and, like the sources of the
+Nile, its fountains will ever remain concealed.”
+
+Such are the words in which one of the most judicious German critics
+has eloquently described the uncertainty in which the whole of the
+Homeric question is involved. With no less truth and feeling he
+proceeds:—
+
+“It seems here of chief importance to expect no more than the nature of
+things makes possible. If the period of tradition in history is the
+region of twilight, we should not expect in it perfect light. The
+creations of genius always seem like miracles, because they are, for
+the most part, created far out of the reach of observation. If we were
+in possession of all the historical testimonies, we never could wholly
+explain the origin of the Iliad and the Odyssey; for their origin, in
+all essential points, must have remained the secret of the poet.”
+
+From this criticism, which shows as much insight into the depths of
+human nature as into the minute wire-drawings of scholastic
+investigation, let us pass on to the main question at issue. Was Homer
+an individual? or were the Iliad and Odyssey the result of an ingenious
+arrangement of fragments by earlier poets?
+
+Well has Landor remarked: “Some tell us there were twenty Homers; some
+deny that there was ever one. It were idle and foolish to shake the
+contents of a vase, in order to let them settle at last. We are
+perpetually labouring to destroy our delights, our composure, our
+devotion to superior power. Of all the animals on earth we least know
+what is good for us. My opinion is, that what is best for us is our
+admiration of good. No man living venerates Homer more than I do.”
+
+But, greatly as we admire the generous enthusiasm which rests contented
+with the poetry on which its best impulses had been nurtured and
+fostered, without seeking to destroy the vividness of first impressions
+by minute analysis, our editorial office compels us to give some
+attention to the doubts and difficulties with which the Homeric
+question is beset, and to entreat our reader, for a brief period, to
+prefer his judgment to his imagination, and to condescend to dry
+details. Before, however, entering into particulars respecting the
+question of this unity of the Homeric poems, (at least of the Iliad,) I
+must express my sympathy with the sentiments expressed in the following
+remarks:—
+
+“We cannot but think the universal admiration of its unity by the
+better, the poetic age of Greece, almost conclusive testimony to its
+original composition. It was not till the age of the grammarians that
+its primitive integrity was called in question; nor is it injustice to
+assert, that the minute and analytical spirit of a grammarian is not
+the best qualification for the profound feeling, the comprehensive
+conception of an harmonious whole. The most exquisite anatomist may be
+no judge of the symmetry of the human frame; and we would take the
+opinion of Chantrey or Westmacott on the proportions and general beauty
+of a form, rather than that of Mr. Brodie or Sir Astley Cooper.
+
+“There is some truth, though some malicious exaggeration, in the lines
+of Pope:—
+
+“‘The critic eye—that microscope of wit—
+Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit;
+How parts relate to parts, or they to whole.
+The body’s harmony, the beaming soul,
+Are things which Kuster, Burmann, Wasse, shall see,
+When man’s whole frame is obvious to a flea.’”
+
+
+Long was the time which elapsed before any one dreamt of questioning
+the unity of the authorship of the Homeric poems. The grave and
+cautious Thucydides quoted without hesitation the Hymn to Apollo, the
+authenticity of which has been already disclaimed by modern critics.
+Longinus, in an oft-quoted passage, merely expressed an opinion
+touching the comparative inferiority of the Odyssey to the Iliad; and,
+among a mass of ancient authors, whose very names it would be tedious
+to detail, no suspicion of the personal non-existence of Homer ever
+arose. So far, the voice of antiquity seems to be in favour of our
+early ideas on the subject: let us now see what are the discoveries to
+which more modern investigations lay claim.
+
+At the end of the seventeenth century, doubts had begun to awaken on
+the subject, and we find Bentley remarking that “Homer wrote a sequel
+of songs and rhapsodies, to be sung by himself, for small comings and
+good cheer, at festivals and other days of merriment. These loose songs
+were not collected together, in the form of an epic poem, till about
+Peisistratus’ time, about five hundred years after.”
+
+Two French writers—Hedelin and Perrault—avowed a similar scepticism on
+the subject; but it is in the “Scienza Nuova” of Battista Vico, that we
+first meet with the germ of the theory, subsequently defended by Wolf
+with so much learning and acuteness. Indeed, it is with the Wolfian
+theory that we have chiefly to deal, and with the following bold
+hypothesis, which we will detail in the words of Grote:—
+
+“Half a century ago, the acute and valuable Prolegomena of F. A. Wolf,
+turning to account the Venetian Scholia, which had then been recently
+published, first opened philosophical discussion as to the history of
+the Homeric text. A considerable part of that dissertation (though by
+no means the whole) is employed in vindicating the position, previously
+announced by Bentley, amongst others, that the separate constituent
+portions of the Iliad and Odyssey had not been cemented together into
+any compact body and unchangeable order, until the days of
+Peisistratus, in the sixth century before Christ. As a step towards
+that conclusion, Wolf maintained that no written copies of either poem
+could be shown to have existed during the earlier times, to which their
+composition is referred; and that without writing, neither the perfect
+symmetry of so complicated a work could have been originally conceived
+by any poet, nor, if realized by him, transmitted with assurance to
+posterity. The absence of easy and convenient writing, such as must be
+indispensably supposed for long manuscripts, among the early Greeks,
+was thus one of the points in Wolf’s case against the primitive
+integrity of the Iliad and Odyssey. By Nitzsch, and other leading
+opponents of Wolf, the connection of the one with the other seems to
+have been accepted as he originally put it; and it has been considered
+incumbent on those who defended the ancient aggregate character of the
+Iliad and Odyssey, to maintain that they were written poems from the
+beginning.
+
+“To me it appears, that the architectonic functions ascribed by Wolf to
+Peisistratus and his associates, in reference to the Homeric poems, are
+nowise admissible. But much would undoubtedly be gained towards that
+view of the question, if it could be shown, that, in order to
+controvert it, we were driven to the necessity of admitting long
+written poems, in the ninth century before the Christian aera. Few
+things, in my opinion, can be more improbable; and Mr. Payne Knight,
+opposed as he is to the Wolfian hypothesis, admits this no less than
+Wolf himself. The traces of writing in Greece, even in the seventh
+century before the Christian aera, are exceedingly trifling. We have no
+remaining inscription earlier than the fortieth Olympiad, and the early
+inscriptions are rude and unskilfully executed; nor can we even assure
+ourselves whether Archilochus, Simonides of Amorgus, Kallinus Tyrtaeus,
+Xanthus, and the other early elegiac and lyric poets, committed their
+compositions to writing, or at what time the practice of doing so
+became familiar. The first positive ground which authorizes us to
+presume the existence of a manuscript of Homer, is in the famous
+ordinance of Solon, with regard to the rhapsodies at the Panathenaea:
+but for what length of time previously manuscripts had existed, we are
+unable to say.
+
+“Those who maintain the Homeric poems to have been written from the
+beginning, rest their case, not upon positive proofs, nor yet upon the
+existing habits of society with regard to poetry—for they admit
+generally that the Iliad and Odyssey were not read, but recited and
+heard,—but upon the supposed necessity that there must have been
+manuscripts to ensure the preservation of the poems—the unassisted
+memory of reciters being neither sufficient nor trustworthy. But here
+we only escape a smaller difficulty by running into a greater; for the
+existence of trained bards, gifted with extraordinary memory, is far
+less astonishing than that of long manuscripts, in an age essentially
+non-reading and non-writing, and when even suitable instruments and
+materials for the process are not obvious. Moreover, there is a strong
+positive reason for believing that the bard was under no necessity of
+refreshing his memory by consulting a manuscript; for if such had been
+the fact, blindness would have been a disqualification for the
+profession, which we know that it was not, as well from the example of
+Demodokus, in the Odyssey, as from that of the blind bard of Chios, in
+the Hymn to the Delian Apollo, whom Thucydides, as well as the general
+tenor of Grecian legend, identifies with Homer himself. The author of
+that hymn, be he who he may, could never have described a blind man as
+attaining the utmost perfection in his art, if he had been conscious
+that the memory of the bard was only maintained by constant reference
+to the manuscript in his chest.”
+
+The loss of the digamma, that _crux_ of critics, that quicksand upon
+which even the acumen of Bentley was shipwrecked, seems to prove beyond
+a doubt, that the pronunciation of the Greek language had undergone a
+considerable change. Now it is certainly difficult to suppose that the
+Homeric poems could have suffered by this change, had written copies
+been preserved. If Chaucer’s poetry, for instance, had not been
+written, it could only have come down to us in a softened form, more
+like the effeminate version of Dryden, than the rough, quaint, noble
+original.
+
+“At what period,” continues Grote, “these poems, or indeed any other
+Greek poems, first began to be written, must be matter of conjecture,
+though there is ground for assurance that it was before the time of
+Solon. If, in the absence of evidence, we may venture upon naming any
+more determinate period, the question at once suggests itself, What
+were the purposes which, in that state of society, a manuscript at its
+first commencement must have been intended to answer? For whom was a
+written Iliad necessary? Not for the rhapsodes; for with them it was
+not only planted in the memory, but also interwoven with the feelings,
+and conceived in conjunction with all those flexions and intonations of
+voice, pauses, and other oral artifices which were required for
+emphatic delivery, and which the naked manuscript could never
+reproduce. Not for the general public—they were accustomed to receive
+it with its rhapsodic delivery, and with its accompaniments of a solemn
+and crowded festival. The only persons for whom the written Iliad would
+be suitable would be a select few; studious and curious men; a class of
+readers capable of analyzing the complicated emotions which they had
+experienced as hearers in the crowd, and who would, on perusing the
+written words, realize in their imaginations a sensible portion of the
+impression communicated by the reciter. Incredible as the statement may
+seem in an age like the present, there is in all early societies, and
+there was in early Greece, a time when no such reading class existed.
+If we could discover at what time such a class first began to be
+formed, we should be able to make a guess at the time when the old epic
+poems were first committed to writing. Now the period which may with
+the greatest probability be fixed upon as having first witnessed the
+formation even of the narrowest reading class in Greece, is the middle
+of the seventh century before the Christian aera (B.C. 660 to B.C.
+630), the age of Terpander, Kallinus, Archilochus, Simenides of
+Amorgus, &c. I ground this supposition on the change then operated in
+the character and tendencies of Grecian poetry and music—the elegiac
+and the iambic measures having been introduced as rivals to the
+primitive hexameter, and poetical compositions having been transferred
+from the epical past to the affairs of present and real life. Such a
+change was important at a time when poetry was the only known mode of
+publication (to use a modern phrase not altogether suitable, yet the
+nearest approaching to the sense). It argued a new way of looking at
+the old epical treasures of the people, as well as a thirst for new
+poetical effect; and the men who stood forward in it may well be
+considered as desirous to study, and competent to criticize, from their
+own individual point of view, the written words of the Homeric
+rhapsodies, just as we are told that Kallinus both noticed and
+eulogized the Thebais as the production of Homer. There seems,
+therefore, ground for conjecturing that (for the use of this
+newly-formed and important, but very narrow class), manuscripts of the
+Homeric poems and other old epics,—the Thebais and the Cypria, as well
+as the Iliad and the Odyssey,—began to be compiled towards the middle
+of the seventh century B.C.; and the opening of Egypt to Grecian
+commerce, which took place about the same period, would furnish
+increased facilities for obtaining the requisite papyrus to write upon.
+A reading class, when once formed, would doubtless slowly increase, and
+the number of manuscripts along with it: so that before the time of
+Solon, fifty years afterwards, both readers and manuscripts, though
+still comparatively few, might have attained a certain recognized
+authority, and formed a tribunal of reference against the carelessness
+of individual rhapsodies.”
+
+But even Peisistratus has not been suffered to remain in possession of
+the credit, and we cannot help feeling the force of the following
+observations:—
+
+“There are several incidental circumstances which, in our opinion,
+throw some suspicion over the whole history of the Peisistratid
+compilation, at least over the theory that the Iliad was cast into its
+present stately and harmonious form by the directions of the Athenian
+ruler. If the great poets, who flourished at the bright period of
+Grecian song, of which, alas! we have inherited little more than the
+fame, and the faint echo; if Stesichorus, Anacreon, and Simonides were
+employed in the noble task of compiling the Iliad and Odyssey, so much
+must have been done to arrange, to connect, to harmonize, that it is
+almost incredible that stronger marks of Athenian manufacture should
+not remain. Whatever occasional anomalies may be detected, anomalies
+which no doubt arise out of our own ignorance of the language of the
+Homeric age; however the irregular use of the digamma may have
+perplexed our Bentleys, to whom the name of Helen is said to have
+caused as much disquiet and distress as the fair one herself among the
+heroes of her age; however Mr. Knight may have failed in reducing the
+Homeric language to its primitive form; however, finally, the Attic
+dialect may not have assumed all its more marked and distinguishing
+characteristics:—still it is difficult to suppose that the language,
+particularly in the joinings and transitions, and connecting parts,
+should not more clearly betray the incongruity between the more ancient
+and modern forms of expression. It is not quite in character with such
+a period to imitate an antique style, in order to piece out an
+imperfect poem in the character of the original, as Sir Walter Scott
+has done in his continuation of Sir Tristram.
+
+“If, however, not even such faint and indistinct traces of Athenian
+compilation are discoverable in the language of the poems, the total
+absence of Athenian national feeling is perhaps no less worthy of
+observation. In later, and it may fairly be suspected in earlier times,
+the Athenians were more than ordinarily jealous of the fame of their
+ancestors. But, amid all the traditions of the glories of early Greece
+embodied in the Iliad, the Athenians play a most subordinate and
+insignificant part. Even the few passages which relate to their
+ancestors, Mr. Knight suspects to be interpolations. It is possible,
+indeed, that in its leading outline, the Iliad may be true to historic
+fact; that in the great maritime expedition of western Greece against
+the rival and half-kindred empire of the Laomedontiadae, the chieftain
+of Thessaly, from his valour and the number of his forces, may have
+been the most important ally of the Peloponnesian sovereign: the
+pre-eminent value of the ancient poetry on the Trojan war may thus have
+forced the national feeling of the Athenians to yield to their taste.
+The songs which spoke of their own great ancestor were, no doubt, of
+far inferior sublimity and popularity, or, at first sight, a Theseid
+would have been much more likely to have emanated from an Athenian
+synod of compilers of ancient song, than an Achilleid or an Odysseid.
+Could France have given birth to a Tasso, Tancred would have been the
+hero of the Jerusalem. If, however, the Homeric ballads, as they are
+sometimes called, which related the wrath of Achilles, with all its
+direful consequences, were so far superior to the rest of the poetic
+cycle, as to admit no rivalry,—it is still surprising, that throughout
+the whole poem the _callida junctura_ should never betray the
+workmanship of an Athenian hand; and that the national spirit of a
+race, who have at a later period not inaptly been compared to our
+self-admiring neighbours, the French, should submit with lofty
+self-denial to the almost total exclusion of their own ancestors—or, at
+least, to the questionable dignity of only having produced a leader
+tolerably skilled in the military tactics of his age.”
+
+To return to the Wolfian theory. While it is to be confessed, that
+Wolf’s objections to the primitive integrity of the Iliad and Odyssey
+have never been wholly got over, we cannot help discovering that they
+have failed to enlighten us as to any substantial point, and that the
+difficulties with which the whole subject is beset, are rather
+augmented than otherwise, if we admit his hypothesis. Nor is Lachmann’s
+modification of his theory any better. He divides the first twenty-two
+books of the Iliad into sixteen different songs, and treats as
+ridiculous the belief that their amalgamation into one regular poem
+belongs to a period earlier than the age of Peisistratus. This as Grote
+observes, “ex-plains the gaps and contradictions in the narrative, but
+it explains nothing else.” Moreover, we find no contradictions
+warranting this belief, and the so-called sixteen poets concur in
+getting rid of the following leading men in the first battle after the
+secession of Achilles: Elphenor, chief of the Euboeans; Tlepolemus, of
+the Rhodians; Pandarus, of the Lycians; Odins, of the Halizonians:
+Pirous and Acamas, of the Thracians. None of these heroes again make
+their appearance, and we can but agree with Colonel Mure, that “it
+seems strange that any number of independent poets should have so
+harmoniously dispensed with the services of all six in the sequel.” The
+discrepancy, by which Pylaemenes, who is represented as dead in the
+fifth book, weeps at his son’s funeral in the thirteenth, can only be
+regarded as the result of an interpolation.
+
+Grote, although not very distinct in stating his own opinions on the
+subject, has done much to clearly show the incongruity of the Wolfian
+theory, and of Lachmann’s modifications, with the character of
+Peisistratus. But he has also shown, and we think with equal success,
+that the two questions relative to the primitive unity of these poems,
+or, supposing that impossible, the unison of these parts by
+Peisistratus, and not before his time, are essentially distinct. In
+short, “a man may believe the Iliad to have been put together out of
+pre-existing songs, without recognising the age of Peisistratus as the
+period of its first compilation.” The friends or literary _employés_ of
+Peisistratus must have found an Iliad that was already ancient, and the
+silence of the Alexandrine critics respecting the Peisistratic
+“recension,” goes far to prove, that, among the numerous manuscripts
+they examined, this was either wanting, or thought unworthy of
+attention.
+
+“Moreover,” he continues, “the whole tenor of the poems themselves
+confirms what is here remarked. There is nothing, either in the Iliad
+or Odyssey, which savours of modernism, applying that term to the age
+of Peisistratus—nothing which brings to our view the alterations
+brought about by two centuries, in the Greek language, the coined
+money, the habits of writing and reading, the despotisms and republican
+governments, the close military array, the improved construction of
+ships, the Amphiktyonic convocations, the mutual frequentation of
+religious festivals, the Oriental and Egyptian veins of religion, &c.,
+familiar to the latter epoch. These alterations Onomakritus, and the
+other literary friends of Peisistratus, could hardly have failed to
+notice, even without design, had they then, for the first time,
+undertaken the task of piecing together many self-existent epics into
+one large aggregate. Everything in the two great Homeric poems, both in
+substance and in language, belongs to an age two or three centuries
+earlier than Peisistratus. Indeed, even the interpolations (or those
+passages which, on the best grounds, are pronounced to be such) betray
+no trace of the sixth century before Christ, and may well have been
+heard by Archilochus and Kallinus—in some cases even by Arktinus and
+Hesiod—as genuine Homeric matter. As far as the evidences on the case,
+as well internal as external, enable us to judge, we seem warranted in
+believing that the Iliad and Odyssey were recited substantially as they
+now stand (always allowing for partial divergences of text and
+interpolations) in 776 B.C., our first trustworthy mark of Grecian
+time; and this ancient date, let it be added, as it is the
+best-authenticated fact, so it is also the most important attribute of
+the Homeric poems, considered in reference to Grecian history; for they
+thus afford us an insight into the anti-historical character of the
+Greeks, enabling us to trace the subsequent forward march of the
+nation, and to seize instructive contrasts between their former and
+their later condition.”
+
+On the whole, I am inclined to believe, that the labours of
+Peisistratus were wholly of an editorial character, although I must
+confess that I can lay down nothing respecting the extent of his
+labours. At the same time, so far from believing that the composition
+or primary arrangement of these poems, in their present form, was the
+work of Peisistratus, I am rather persuaded that the fine taste and
+elegant, mind of that Athenian would lead him to preserve an ancient
+and traditional order of the poems, rather than to patch and
+reconstruct them according to a fanciful hypothesis. I will not repeat
+the many discussions respecting whether the poems were written or not,
+or whether the art of writing was known in the time of their reputed
+author. Suffice it to say, that the more we read, the less satisfied we
+are upon either subject.
+
+I cannot, however, help thinking, that the story which attributes the
+preservation of these poems to Lycurgus, is little else than a version
+of the same story as that of Peisistratus, while its historical
+probability must be measured by that of many others relating to the
+Spartan Confucius.
+
+I will conclude this sketch of the Homeric theories with an attempt,
+made by an ingenious friend, to unite them into something like
+consistency. It is as follows:—
+
+“No doubt the common soldiers of that age had, like the common sailors
+of some fifty years ago, some one qualified to ‘discourse in excellent
+music’ among them. Many of these, like those of the negroes in the
+United States, were extemporaneous, and allusive to events passing
+around them. But what was passing around them? The grand events of a
+spirit-stirring war; occurrences likely to impress themselves, as the
+mystical legends of former times had done, upon their memory; besides
+which, a retentive memory was deemed a virtue of the first water, and
+was cultivated accordingly in those ancient times. Ballads at first,
+and down to the beginning of the war with Troy, were merely
+recitations, with an intonation. Then followed a species of recitative,
+probably with an intoned burden. Tune next followed, as it aided the
+memory considerably.
+
+“It was at this period, about four hundred years after the war, that a
+poet flourished of the name of Melesigenes, or Moeonides, but most
+probably the former. He saw that these ballads might be made of great
+utility to his purpose of writing a poem on the social position of
+Hellas, and, as a collection, he published these lays connecting them
+by a tale of his own. This poem now exists, under the title of the
+‘Odyssea.’ The author, however, did not affix his own name to the poem,
+which, in fact, was, great part of it, remodelled from the archaic
+dialect of Crete, in which tongue the ballads were found by him. He
+therefore called it the poem of Homeros, or the Collector; but this is
+rather a proof of his modesty and talent, than of his mere drudging
+arrangement of other people’s ideas; for, as Grote has finely observed,
+arguing for the unity of authorship, ‘a great poet might have re-cast
+pre-existing separate songs into one comprehensive whole; but no mere
+arrangers or compilers would be competent to do so.’
+
+“While employed on the wild legend of Odysseus, he met with a ballad,
+recording the quarrel of Achilles and Agamemnon. His noble mind seized
+the hint that there presented itself, and the Achilleis grew under his
+hand. Unity of design, however, caused him to publish the poem under
+the same pseudonyme as his former work; and the disjointed lays of the
+ancient bards were joined together, like those relating to the Cid,
+into a chronicle history, named the Iliad. Melesigenes knew that the
+poem was destined to be a lasting one, and so it has proved; but,
+first, the poems were destined to undergo many vicissitudes and
+corruptions, by the people who took to singing them in the streets,
+assemblies, and agoras. However, Solon first, and then Peisistratus,
+and afterwards Aristoteles and others, revised the poems, and restored
+the works of Melesigenes Homeros to their original integrity in a great
+measure.”
+
+Having thus given some general notion of the strange theories which
+have developed themselves respecting this most interesting subject, I
+must still express my conviction as to the unity of the authorship of
+the Homeric poems. To deny that many corruptions and interpolations
+disfigure them, and that the intrusive hand of the poetasters may here
+and there have inflicted a wound more serious than the negligence of
+the copyist, would be an absurd and captious assumption; but it is to a
+higher criticism that we must appeal, if we would either understand or
+enjoy these poems. In maintaining the authenticity and personality of
+their one author, be he Homer or Melesigenes, _quocunque nomine vocari
+eum jus fasque sit_, I feel conscious that, while the whole weight of
+historical evidence is against the hypothesis which would assign these
+great works to a plurality of authors, the most powerful internal
+evidence, and that which springs from the deepest and most immediate
+impulse of the soul, also speaks eloquently to the contrary.
+
+The minutiae of verbal criticism I am far from seeking to despise.
+Indeed, considering the character of some of my own books, such an
+attempt would be gross inconsistency. But, while I appreciate its
+importance in a philological view, I am inclined to set little store on
+its aesthetic value, especially in poetry. Three parts of the
+emendations made upon poets are mere alterations, some of which, had
+they been suggested to the author by his Maecenas or Africanus, he
+would probably have adopted. Moreover, those who are most exact in
+laying down rules of verbal criticism and interpretation, are often
+least competent to carry out their own precepts. Grammarians are not
+poets by profession, but may be so _per accidens_. I do not at this
+moment remember two emendations on Homer, calculated to substantially
+improve the poetry of a passage, although a mass of remarks, from
+Herodotus down to Loewe, have given us the history of a thousand minute
+points, without which our Greek knowledge would be gloomy and jejune.
+
+But it is not on words only that grammarians, mere grammarians, will
+exercise their elaborate and often tiresome ingenuity. Binding down an
+heroic or dramatic poet to the block upon which they have previously
+dissected his words and sentences, they proceed to use the axe and the
+pruning knife by wholesale; and, inconsistent in everything but their
+wish to make out a case of unlawful affiliation, they cut out book
+after book, passage after passage, till the author is reduced to a
+collection of fragments, or till those who fancied they possessed the
+works of some great man, find that they have been put off with a vile
+counterfeit got up at second hand. If we compare the theories of
+Knight, Wolf, Lachmann; and others, we shall feel better satisfied of
+the utter uncertainty of criticism than of the apocryphal position of
+Homer. One rejects what another considers the turning-point of his
+theory. One cuts a supposed knot by expunging what another would
+explain by omitting something else.
+
+Nor is this morbid species of sagacity by any means to be looked upon
+as a literary novelty. Justus Lipsius, a scholar of no ordinary skill,
+seems to revel in the imaginary discovery, that the tragedies
+attributed to Seneca are by _four_ different authors. Now, I will
+venture to assert, that these tragedies are so uniform, not only in
+their borrowed phraseology—a phraseology with which writers like
+Boethius and Saxo Grammaticus were more charmed than ourselves—in their
+freedom from real poetry, and last, but not least, in an ultra-refined
+and consistent abandonment of good taste, that few writers of the
+present day would question the capabilities of the same gentleman, be
+he Seneca or not, to produce not only these, but a great many more
+equally bad. With equal sagacity, Father Hardouin astonished the world
+with the startling announcement that the AEneid of Virgil, and the
+satires of Horace, were literary deceptions. Now, without wishing to
+say one word of disrespect against the industry and learning—nay, the
+refined acuteness—which scholars like Wolf have bestowed upon this
+subject, I must express my fears, that many of our modern Homeric
+theories will become matter for the surprise and entertainment, rather
+than the instruction, of posterity. Nor can I help thinking that the
+literary history of more recent times will account for many points of
+difficulty in the transmission of the Iliad and Odyssey to a period so
+remote from that of their first creation.
+
+I have already expressed my belief that the labours of Peisistratus
+were of a purely editorial character; and there seems no more reason
+why corrupt and imperfect editions of Homer may not have been abroad in
+his day, than that the poems of Valerius Flaccus and Tibullus should
+have given so much trouble to Poggio, Scaliger, and others. But, after
+all, the main fault in all the Homeric theories is, that they demand
+too great a sacrifice of those feelings to which poetry most powerfully
+appeals, and which are its most fitting judges. The ingenuity which has
+sought to rob us of the name and existence of Homer, does too much
+violence to that inward emotion, which makes our whole soul yearn with
+love and admiration for the blind bard of Chios. To believe the author
+of the Iliad a mere compiler, is to degrade the powers of human
+invention; to elevate analytical judgment at the expense of the most
+ennobling impulses of the soul; and to forget the ocean in the
+contemplation of a polypus. There is a catholicity, so to speak, in the
+very name of Homer. Our faith in the author of the Iliad may be a
+mistaken one, but as yet nobody has taught us a better.
+
+While, however, I look upon the belief in Homer as one that has nature
+herself for its mainspring; while I can join with old Ennius in
+believing in Homer as the ghost, who, like some patron saint, hovers
+round the bed of the poet, and even bestows rare gifts from that wealth
+of imagination which a host of imitators could not exhaust,—still I am
+far from wishing to deny that the author of these great poems found a
+rich fund of tradition, a well-stocked mythical storehouse, from whence
+he might derive both subject and embellishment. But it is one thing to
+_use_ existing romances in the embellishment of a poem, another to
+patch up the poem itself from such materials. What consistency of style
+and execution can be hoped for from such an attempt? or, rather, what
+bad taste and tedium will not be the infallible result?
+
+A blending of popular legends, and a free use of the songs of other
+bards, are features perfectly consistent with poetical originality. In
+fact, the most original writer is still drawing upon outward
+impressions—nay, even his own thoughts are a kind of secondary agents
+which support and feed the impulses of imagination. But unless there be
+some grand pervading principle—some invisible, yet most distinctly
+stamped archetypus of the great whole, a poem like the Iliad can never
+come to the birth. Traditions the most picturesque, episodes the most
+pathetic, local associations teeming with the thoughts of gods and
+great men, may crowd in one mighty vision, or reveal themselves in more
+substantial forms to the mind of the poet; but, except the power to
+create a grand whole, to which these shall be but as details and
+embellishments, be present, we shall have nought but a scrap-book, a
+parterre filled with flowers and weeds strangling each other in their
+wild redundancy; we shall have a cento of rags and tatters, which will
+require little acuteness to detect.
+
+Sensible as I am of the difficulty of disproving a negative, and aware
+as I must be of the weighty grounds there are for opposing my belief,
+it still seems to me that the Homeric question is one that is reserved
+for a higher criticism than it has often obtained. We are not by nature
+intended to know all things; still less, to compass the powers by which
+the greatest blessings of life have been placed at our disposal. Were
+faith no virtue, then we might indeed wonder why God willed our
+ignorance on any matter. But we are too well taught the contrary
+lesson; and it seems as though our faith should be especially tried,
+touching the men and the events which have wrought most influence upon
+the condition of humanity. And there is a kind of sacredness attached
+to the memory of the great and the good, which seems to bid us repulse
+the scepticism which would allegorize their existence into a pleasing
+apologue, and measure the giants of intellect by an homaeopathic
+dynameter.
+
+Long and habitual reading of Homer appears to familiarize our thoughts
+even to his incongruities; or rather, if we read in a right spirit and
+with a heartfelt appreciation, we are too much dazzled, too deeply
+wrapped in admiration of the whole, to dwell upon the minute spots
+which mere analysis can discover. In reading an heroic poem, we must
+transform ourselves into heroes of the time being, we in imagination
+must fight over the same battles, woo the same loves, burn with the
+same sense of injury, as an Achilles or a Hector. And if we can but
+attain this degree of enthusiasm (and less enthusiasm will scarcely
+suffice for the reading of Homer), we shall feel that the poems of
+Homer are not only the work of one writer, but of the greatest writer
+that ever touched the hearts of men by the power of song.
+
+And it was this supposed unity of authorship which gave these poems
+their powerful influence over the minds of the men of old. Heeren, who
+is evidently little disposed in favour of modern theories, finely
+observes:—
+
+“It was Homer who formed the character of the Greek nation. No poet has
+ever, as a poet, exercised a similar influence over his countrymen.
+Prophets, lawgivers, and sages have formed the character of other
+nations; it was reserved to a poet to form that of the Greeks. This is
+a feature in their character which was not wholly erased even in the
+period of their degeneracy. When lawgivers and sages appeared in
+Greece, the work of the poet had already been accomplished; and they
+paid homage to his superior genius. He held up before his nation the
+mirror in which they were to behold the world of gods and heroes, no
+less than of feeble mortals, and to behold them reflected with purity
+and truth. His poems are founded on the first feeling of human nature;
+on the love of children, wife, and country; on that passion which
+outweighs all others, the love of glory. His songs were poured forth
+from a breast which sympathized with all the feelings of man; and
+therefore they enter, and will continue to enter, every breast which
+cherishes the same sympathies. If it is granted to his immortal spirit,
+from another heaven than any of which he dreamed on earth, to look down
+on his race, to see the nations from the fields of Asia, to the forests
+of Hercynia, performing pilgrimages to the fountain which his magic
+wand caused to flow; if it is permitted to him to view the vast
+assemblage of grand, of elevated, of glorious productions, which had
+been called into being by means of his songs; wherever his immortal
+spirit may reside, this alone would suffice to complete his happiness.”
+
+Can we contemplate that ancient monument, on which the “Apotheosis of
+Homer” is depictured, and not feel how much of pleasing association,
+how much that appeals most forcibly and most distinctly to our minds,
+is lost by the admittance of any theory but our old tradition? The more
+we read, and the more we think—think as becomes the readers of
+Homer,—the more rooted becomes the conviction that the Father of Poetry
+gave us this rich inheritance, whole and entire. Whatever were the
+means of its preservation, let us rather be thankful for the treasury
+of taste and eloquence thus laid open to our use, than seek to make it
+a mere centre around which to drive a series of theories, whose
+wildness is only equalled by their inconsistency with each other.
+
+As the hymns, and some other poems usually ascribed to Homer, are not
+included in Pope’s translation, I will content myself with a brief
+account of the Battle of the Frogs and Mice, from the pen of a writer
+who has done it full justice:—
+
+“This poem,” says Coleridge, “is a short mock-heroic of ancient date.
+The text varies in different editions, and is obviously disturbed and
+corrupt to a great degree; it is commonly said to have been a juvenile
+essay of Homer’s genius; others have attributed it to the same Pigrees
+mentioned above, and whose reputation for humour seems to have invited
+the appropriation of any piece of ancient wit, the author of which was
+uncertain; so little did the Greeks, before the age of the Ptolemies,
+know or care about that department of criticism employed in determining
+the genuineness of ancient writings. As to this little poem being a
+youthful prolusion of Homer, it seems sufficient to say that from the
+beginning to the end, it is a plain and palpable parody, not only of
+the general spirit, but of numerous passages of the Iliad itself; and,
+even if no such intention to parody were discernible in it, the
+objection would still remain, that to suppose a work of mere burlesque
+to be the primary effort of poetry in a simple age, seems to reverse
+that order in the development of national taste, which the history of
+every other people in Europe, and of many in Asia, has almost
+ascertained to be a law of the human mind; it is in a state of society
+much more refined and permanent than that described in the Iliad, that
+any popularity would attend such a ridicule of war and the gods as is
+contained in this poem; and the fact of there having existed three
+other poems of the same kind attributed, for aught we can see, with as
+much reason to Homer, is a strong inducement to believe that none of
+them were of the Homeric age. Knight infers from the usage of the word
+δὲλτος, ‘writing tablet,’ instead of διφθέρα, ‘skin,’ which, according
+to Herod 5, 58, was the material employed by the Asiatic Greeks for
+that purpose, that this poem was another offspring of Attic ingenuity;
+and generally that the familiar mention of the cock (v. 191) is a
+strong argument against so ancient a date for its composition.”
+
+Having thus given a brief account of the poems comprised in Pope’s
+design, I will now proceed to make a few remarks on his translation,
+and on my own purpose in the present edition.
+
+Pope was not a Grecian. His whole education had been irregular, and his
+earliest acquaintance with the poet was through the version of Ogilby.
+It is not too much to say that his whole work bears the impress of a
+disposition to be satisfied with the general sense, rather than to dive
+deeply into the minute and delicate features of language. Hence his
+whole work is to be looked upon rather as an elegant paraphrase than a
+translation. There are, to be sure, certain conventional anecdotes,
+which prove that Pope consulted various friends, whose classical
+attainments were sounder than his own, during the undertaking; but it
+is probable that these examinations were the result rather of the
+contradictory versions already existing, than of a desire to make a
+perfect transcript of the original. And in those days, what is called
+literal translation was less cultivated than at present. If something
+like the general sense could be decorated with the easy gracefulness of
+a practised poet; if the charms of metrical cadence and a pleasing
+fluency could be made consistent with a fair interpretation of the
+poet’s meaning, his words were less jealously sought for, and those who
+could read so good a poem as Pope’s Iliad had fair reason to be
+satisfied.
+
+It would be absurd, therefore, to test Pope’s translation by our own
+advancing knowledge of the original text. We must be content to look at
+it as a most delightful work in itself,—a work which is as much a part
+of English literature as Homer himself is of Greek. We must not be torn
+from our kindly associations with the old Iliad, that once was our most
+cherished companion, or our most looked-for prize, merely because
+Buttmann, Loewe, and Liddell have made us so much more accurate as to
+ἀμφικύπελλον being an adjective, and not a substantive. Far be it from
+us to defend the faults of Pope, especially when we think of Chapman’s
+fine, bold, rough old English;—far be it from us to hold up his
+translation as what a translation of Homer _might_ be. But we can still
+dismiss Pope’s Iliad to the hands of our readers, with the
+consciousness that they must have read a very great number of books
+before they have read its fellow.
+
+THEODORE ALOIS BUCKLEY.
+
+
+_Christ Church._
+
+
+
+
+THE ODYSSEY OF HOMER.
+
+
+BOOK I.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+MINERVA’S DESCENT TO ITHACA.
+
+
+The poem opens within forty eight days of the arrival of Ulysses in his
+dominions. He had now remained seven years in the Island of Calypso,
+when the gods assembled in council, proposed the method of his
+departure from thence and his return to his native country. For this
+purpose it is concluded to send Mercury to Calypso, and Pallas
+immediately descends to Ithaca. She holds a conference with Telemachus,
+in the shape of Mantes, king of Taphians; in which she advises him to
+take a journey in quest of his father Ulysses, to Pylos and Sparta,
+where Nestor and Menelaus yet reigned; then, after having visibly
+displayed her divinity, disappears. The suitors of Penelope make great
+entertainments, and riot in her palace till night. Phemius sings to
+them the return of the Grecians, till Penelope puts a stop to the song.
+Some words arise between the suitors and Telemachus, who summons the
+council to meet the day following.
+
+
+The man for wisdom’s various arts renown’d,
+Long exercised in woes, O Muse! resound;
+Who, when his arms had wrought the destined fall
+Of sacred Troy, and razed her heaven-built wall,
+Wandering from clime to clime, observant stray’d,
+Their manners noted, and their states survey’d,
+On stormy seas unnumber’d toils he bore,
+Safe with his friends to gain his natal shore:
+Vain toils! their impious folly dared to prey
+On herds devoted to the god of day;
+The god vindictive doom’d them never more
+(Ah, men unbless’d!) to touch that natal shore.
+Oh, snatch some portion of these acts from fate,
+Celestial Muse! and to our world relate.
+
+Now at their native realms the Greeks arrived;
+All who the wars of ten long years survived;
+And ’scaped the perils of the gulfy main.
+Ulysses, sole of all the victor train,
+An exile from his dear paternal coast,
+Deplored his absent queen and empire lost.
+Calypso in her caves constrain’d his stay,
+With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay;
+In vain-for now the circling years disclose
+The day predestined to reward his woes.
+At length his Ithaca is given by fate,
+Where yet new labours his arrival wait;
+At length their rage the hostile powers restrain,
+All but the ruthless monarch of the main.
+But now the god, remote, a heavenly guest,
+In Æthiopia graced the genial feast
+(A race divided, whom with sloping rays
+The rising and descending sun surveys);
+There on the world’s extremest verge revered
+With hecatombs and prayer in pomp preferr’d,
+Distant he lay: while in the bright abodes
+Of high Olympus, Jove convened the gods:
+The assembly thus the sire supreme address’d,
+AEgysthus’ fate revolving in his breast,
+Whom young Orestes to the dreary coast
+Of Pluto sent, a blood-polluted ghost.
+
+“Perverse mankind! whose wills, created free,
+Charge all their woes on absolute degree;
+All to the dooming gods their guilt translate,
+And follies are miscall’d the crimes of fate.
+When to his lust AEgysthus gave the rein,
+Did fate, or we, the adulterous act constrain?
+Did fate, or we, when great Atrides died,
+Urge the bold traitor to the regicide?
+Hermes I sent, while yet his soul remain’d
+Sincere from royal blood, and faith profaned;
+To warn the wretch, that young Orestes, grown
+To manly years, should re-assert the throne.
+Yet, impotent of mind, and uncontroll’d,
+He plunged into the gulf which Heaven foretold.”
+
+Here paused the god; and pensive thus replies
+Minerva, graceful with her azure eyes:
+
+“O thou! from whom the whole creation springs,
+The source of power on earth derived to kings!
+His death was equal to the direful deed;
+So may the man of blood be doomed to bleed!
+But grief and rage alternate wound my breast
+For brave Ulysses, still by fate oppress’d.
+Amidst an isle, around whose rocky shore
+The forests murmur, and the surges roar,
+The blameless hero from his wish’d-for home
+A goddess guards in her enchanted dome;
+(Atlas her sire, to whose far-piercing eye
+The wonders of the deep expanded lie;
+The eternal columns which on earth he rears
+End in the starry vault, and prop the spheres).
+By his fair daughter is the chief confined,
+Who soothes to dear delight his anxious mind;
+Successless all her soft caresses prove,
+To banish from his breast his country’s love;
+To see the smoke from his loved palace rise,
+While the dear isle in distant prospect lies,
+With what contentment could he close his eyes!
+And will Omnipotence neglect to save
+The suffering virtue of the wise and brave?
+Must he, whose altars on the Phrygian shore
+With frequent rites, and pure, avow’d thy power,
+Be doom’d the worst of human ills to prove,
+Unbless’d, abandon’d to the wrath of Jove?”
+
+“Daughter! what words have pass’d thy lips unweigh’d!
+(Replied the Thunderer to the martial maid;)
+Deem not unjustly by my doom oppress’d,
+Of human race the wisest and the best.
+Neptune, by prayer repentant rarely won,
+Afflicts the chief, to avenge his giant son,
+Whose visual orb Ulysses robb’d of light;
+Great Polypheme, of more than mortal might?
+Him young Thousa bore (the bright increase
+Of Phorcys, dreaded in the sounds and seas);
+Whom Neptune eyed with bloom of beauty bless’d,
+And in his cave the yielding nymph compress’d
+For this the god constrains the Greek to roam,
+A hopeless exile from his native home,
+From death alone exempt—but cease to mourn;
+Let all combine to achieve his wish’d return;
+Neptune atoned, his wrath shall now refrain,
+Or thwart the synod of the gods in vain.”
+
+“Father and king adored!” Minerva cried,
+“Since all who in the Olympian bower reside
+Now make the wandering Greek their public care,
+Let Hermes to the Atlantic isle repair;
+Bid him, arrived in bright Calypso’s court,
+The sanction of the assembled powers report:
+That wise Ulysses to his native land
+Must speed, obedient to their high command.
+Meantime Telemachus, the blooming heir
+Of sea-girt Ithaca, demands my care;
+’Tis mine to form his green, unpractised years
+In sage debates; surrounded with his peers,
+To save the state, and timely to restrain
+The bold intrusion of the suitor-train;
+Who crowd his palace, and with lawless power
+His herds and flocks in feastful rites devour.
+To distant Sparta, and the spacious waste
+Of Sandy Pyle, the royal youth shall haste.
+There, warm with filial love, the cause inquire
+That from his realm retards his god-like sire;
+Delivering early to the voice of fame
+The promise of a green immortal name.”
+
+She said: the sandals of celestial mould,
+Fledged with ambrosial plumes, and rich with gold,
+Surround her feet: with these sublime she sails
+The aërial space, and mounts the winged gales;
+O’er earth and ocean wide prepared to soar,
+Her dreaded arm a beamy javelin bore,
+Ponderous and vast: which, when her fury burns,
+Proud tyrants humbles, and whole hosts o’erturns.
+From high Olympus prone her flight she bends,
+And in the realms of Ithaca descends,
+Her lineaments divine, the grave disguise
+Of Mentes’ form conceal’d from human eyes
+(Mentes, the monarch of the Taphian land);
+A glittering spear waved awful in her hand.
+There in the portal placed, the heaven-born maid
+Enormous riot and misrule survey’d.
+On hides of beeves, before the palace gate
+(Sad spoils of luxury), the suitors sate.
+With rival art, and ardour in their mien,
+At chess they vie, to captivate the queen;
+Divining of their loves. Attending nigh,
+A menial train the flowing bowl supply.
+Others, apart, the spacious hall prepare,
+And form the costly feast with busy care.
+There young Telemachus, his bloomy face
+Glowing celestial sweet, with godlike grace
+Amid the circle shines: but hope and fear
+(Painful vicissitude!) his bosom tear.
+Now, imaged in his mind, he sees restored
+In peace and joy the people’s rightful lord;
+The proud oppressors fly the vengeful sword.
+While his fond soul these fancied triumphs swell’d,
+The stranger guest the royal youth beheld;
+Grieved that a visitant so long should wait
+Unmark’d, unhonour’d, at a monarch’s gate;
+Instant he flew with hospitable haste,
+And the new friend with courteous air embraced.
+“Stranger, whoe’er thou art, securely rest,
+Affianced in my faith, a ready guest;
+Approach the dome, the social banquet share,
+And then the purpose of thy soul declare.”
+
+Thus affable and mild, the prince precedes,
+And to the dome the unknown celestial leads.
+The spear receiving from the hand, he placed
+Against a column, fair with sculpture graced;
+Where seemly ranged in peaceful order stood
+Ulysses’ arms now long disused to blood.
+He led the goddess to the sovereign seat,
+Her feet supported with a stool of state
+(A purple carpet spread the pavement wide);
+Then drew his seat, familiar, to her side;
+Far from the suitor-train, a brutal crowd,
+With insolence, and wine, elate and loud:
+Where the free guest, unnoted, might relate,
+If haply conscious, of his father’s fate.
+The golden ewer a maid obsequious brings,
+Replenish’d from the cool, translucent springs;
+With copious water the bright vase supplies
+A silver laver of capacious size;
+They wash. The tables in fair order spread,
+They heap the glittering canisters with bread:
+Viands of various kinds allure the taste,
+Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!
+Delicious wines the attending herald brought;
+The gold gave lustre to the purple draught.
+Lured with the vapour of the fragrant feast,
+In rush’d the suitors with voracious haste;
+Marshall’d in order due, to each a sewer
+Presents, to bathe his hands, a radiant ewer.
+Luxurious then they feast. Observant round
+Gay stripling youths the brimming goblets crown’d.
+The rage of hunger quell’d, they all advance
+And form to measured airs the mazy dance;
+To Phemius was consign’d the chorded lyre,
+Whose hand reluctant touch’d the warbling wire;
+Phemius, whose voice divine could sweetest sing
+High strains responsive to the vocal string.
+
+Meanwhile, in whispers to his heavenly guest
+His indignation thus the prince express’d:
+
+“Indulge my rising grief, whilst these (my friend)
+With song and dance the pompous revel end.
+Light is the dance, and doubly sweet the lays,
+When for the dear delight another pays.
+His treasured stores those cormarants consume,
+Whose bones, defrauded of a regal tomb
+And common turf, lie naked on the plain,
+Or doom’d to welter in the whelming main.
+Should he return, that troop so blithe and bold,
+With purple robes inwrought, and stiff with gold,
+Precipitant in fear would wing their flight,
+And curse their cumbrous pride’s unwieldy weight.
+But ah, I dream!-the appointed hour is fled.
+And hope, too long with vain delusion fed,
+Deaf to the rumour of fallacious fame,
+Gives to the roll of death his glorious name!
+With venial freedom let me now demand
+Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land;
+Sincere from whence began thy course, recite,
+And to what ship I owe the friendly freight?
+Now first to me this visit dost thou deign,
+Or number’d in my father’s social train?
+All who deserved his choice he made his own,
+And, curious much to know, he far was known.”
+
+“My birth I boast (the blue-eyed virgin cries)
+From great Anchialus, renown’d and wise;
+Mentes my name; I rule the Taphian race,
+Whose bounds the deep circumfluent waves embrace;
+A duteous people, and industrious isle,
+To naval arts inured, and stormy toil.
+Freighted with iron from my native land,
+I steer my voyage to the Brutian strand
+To gain by commerce, for the labour’d mass,
+A just proportion of refulgent brass.
+Far from your capital my ship resides
+At Reitorus, and secure at anchor rides;
+Where waving groves on airy Neign grow,
+Supremely tall and shade the deeps below.
+Thence to revisit your imperial dome,
+An old hereditary guest I come;
+Your father’s friend. Laertes can relate
+Our faith unspotted, and its early date;
+Who, press’d with heart-corroding grief and years,
+To the gay court a rural shed prefers,
+Where, sole of all his train, a matron sage
+Supports with homely fond his drooping age,
+With feeble steps from marshalling his vines
+Returning sad, when toilsome day declines.
+
+“With friendly speed, induced by erring fame,
+To hail Ulysses’ safe return I came;
+But still the frown of some celestial power
+With envious joy retards the blissful hour.
+Let not your soul be sunk in sad despair;
+He lives, he breathes this heavenly vital air,
+Among a savage race, whose shelfy bounds
+With ceaseless roar the foaming deep surrounds.
+The thoughts which roll within my ravish’d breast,
+To me, no seer, the inspiring gods suggest;
+Nor skill’d nor studious, with prophetic eye
+To judge the winged omens of the sky.
+Yet hear this certain speech, nor deem it vain;
+Though adamantine bonds the chief restrain,
+The dire restraint his wisdom will defeat,
+And soon restore him to his regal seat.
+But generous youth! sincere and free declare,
+Are you, of manly growth, his royal heir?
+For sure Ulysses in your look appears,
+The same his features, if the same his years.
+Such was that face, on which I dwelt with joy
+Ere Greece assembled stemm’d the tides to Troy;
+But, parting then for that detested shore,
+Our eyes, unhappy never greeted more.”
+
+“To prove a genuine birth (the prince replies)
+On female truth assenting faith relies.
+Thus manifest of right, I build my claim
+Sure-founded on a fair maternal fame,
+Ulysses’ son: but happier he, whom fate
+Hath placed beneath the storms which toss the great!
+Happier the son, whose hoary sire is bless’d
+With humble affluence, and domestic rest!
+Happier than I, to future empire born,
+But doom’d a father’s wretch’d fate to mourn!”
+
+To whom, with aspect mild, the guest divine:
+“Oh true descendant of a sceptred line!
+The gods a glorious fate from anguish free
+To chaste Penelope’s increase decree.
+But say, yon jovial troops so gaily dress’d,
+Is this a bridal or a friendly feast?
+Or from their deed I rightlier may divine,
+Unseemly flown with insolence and wine?
+Unwelcome revellers, whose lawless joy
+Pains the sage ear, and hurts the sober eye.”
+
+“Magnificence of old (the prince replied)
+Beneath our roof with virtue could reside;
+Unblamed abundance crowned the royal board,
+What time this dome revered her prudent lord;
+Who now (so Heaven decrees) is doom’d to mourn,
+Bitter constraint, erroneous and forlorn.
+Better the chief, on Ilion’s hostile plain,
+Had fall’n surrounded with his warlike train;
+Or safe return’d, the race of glory pass’d,
+New to his friends’ embrace, and breathed his last!
+Then grateful Greece with streaming eyes would raise,
+Historic marbles to record his praise;
+His praise, eternal on the faithful stone,
+Had with transmissive honour graced his son.
+Now snatch’d by harpies to the dreary coast.
+Sunk is the hero, and his glory lost;
+Vanish’d at once! unheard of, and unknown!
+And I his heir in misery alone.
+Nor for a dear lost father only flow
+The filial tears, but woe succeeds to woe
+To tempt the spouseless queen with amorous wiles
+Resort the nobles from the neighbouring isles;
+From Samos, circled with the Ionian main,
+Dulichium, and Zacynthas’ sylvan reign;
+Ev’n with presumptuous hope her bed to ascend,
+The lords of Ithaca their right pretend.
+She seems attentive to their pleaded vows,
+Her heart detesting what her ear allows.
+They, vain expectants of the bridal hour,
+My stores in riotous expense devour.
+In feast and dance the mirthful months employ,
+And meditate my doom to crown their joy.”
+
+With tender pity touch’d, the goddess cried:
+“Soon may kind Heaven a sure relief provide,
+Soon may your sire discharge the vengeance due,
+And all your wrongs the proud oppressors rue!
+Oh! in that portal should the chief appear,
+Each hand tremendous with a brazen spear,
+In radiant panoply his limbs incased
+(For so of old my father’s court he graced,
+When social mirth unbent his serious soul,
+O’er the full banquet, and the sprightly bowl);
+He then from Ephyre, the fair domain
+Of Ilus, sprung from Jason’s royal strain,
+Measured a length of seas, a toilsome length, in vain.
+For, voyaging to learn the direful art
+To taint with deadly drugs the barbed dart;
+Observant of the gods, and sternly just,
+Ilus refused to impart the baneful trust;
+With friendlier zeal my father’s soul was fired,
+The drugs he knew, and gave the boon desired.
+Appear’d he now with such heroic port,
+As then conspicuous at the Taphian court;
+Soon should yon boasters cease their haughty strife,
+Or each atone his guilty love with life.
+But of his wish’d return the care resign,
+Be future vengeance to the powers divine.
+My sentence hear: with stern distaste avow’d,
+To their own districts drive the suitor-crowd;
+When next the morning warms the purple east,
+Convoke the peerage, and the gods attest;
+The sorrows of your inmost soul relate;
+And form sure plans to save the sinking state.
+Should second love a pleasing flame inspire,
+And the chaste queen connubial rights require;
+Dismiss’d with honour, let her hence repair
+To great Icarius, whose paternal care
+Will guide her passion, and reward her choice
+With wealthy dower, and bridal gifts of price.
+Then let this dictate of my love prevail:
+Instant, to foreign realms prepare to sail,
+To learn your father’s fortunes; Fame may prove,
+Or omen’d voice (the messenger of Jove),
+Propitious to the search. Direct your toil
+Through the wide ocean first to sandy Pyle;
+Of Nestor, hoary sage, his doom demand:
+Thence speed your voyage to the Spartan strand;
+For young Atrides to the Achaian coast
+Arrived the last of all the victor host.
+If yet Ulysses views the light, forbear,
+Till the fleet hours restore the circling year.
+But if his soul hath wing’d the destined flight,
+Inhabitant of deep disastrous night;
+Homeward with pious speed repass the main,
+To the pale shade funereal rites ordain,
+Plant the fair column o’er the vacant grave,
+A hero’s honours let the hero have.
+With decent grief the royal dead deplored,
+For the chaste queen select an equal lord.
+Then let revenge your daring mind employ,
+By fraud or force the suitor train destroy,
+And starting into manhood, scorn the boy.
+Hast thou not heard how young Orestes, fired
+With great revenge, immortal praise acquired?
+His virgin-sword AEgysthus’ veins imbrued;
+The murderer fell, and blood atoned for blood.
+O greatly bless’d with every blooming grace!
+With equal steps the paths of glory trace;
+Join to that royal youth’s your rival name,
+And shine eternal in the sphere of fame.
+But my associates now my stay deplore,
+Impatient on the hoarse-resounding shore.
+Thou, heedful of advice, secure proceed;
+My praise the precept is, be thine the deed.
+
+“The counsel of my friend (the youth rejoin’d)
+Imprints conviction on my grateful mind.
+So fathers speak (persuasive speech and mild)
+Their sage experience to the favourite child.
+But, since to part, for sweet refection due,
+The genial viands let my train renew;
+And the rich pledge of plighted faith receive,
+Worthy the heir of Ithaca to give.”
+
+“Defer the promised boon (the goddess cries,
+Celestial azure brightening in her eyes),
+And let me now regain the Reithrian port;
+From Temese return’d, your royal court
+I shall revisit, and that pledge receive;
+And gifts, memorial of our friendship, leave.”
+
+Abrupt, with eagle-speed she cut the sky;
+Instant invisible to mortal eye.
+Then first he recognized the ethereal guest;
+Wonder and joy alternate fire his breast;
+Heroic thoughts, infused, his heart dilate;
+Revolving much his father’s doubtful fate.
+At length, composed, he join’d the suitor-throng;
+Hush’d in attention to the warbled song.
+His tender theme the charming lyrist chose.
+Minerva’s anger, and the dreadful woes
+Which voyaging from Troy the victors bore,
+While storms vindictive intercept the store.
+The shrilling airs the vaulted roof rebounds,
+Reflecting to the queen the silver sounds.
+With grief renew’d the weeping fair descends;
+Their sovereign’s step a virgin train attends:
+A veil, of richest texture wrought, she wears,
+And silent to the joyous hall repairs.
+There from the portal, with her mild command,
+Thus gently checks the minstrel’s tuneful hand:
+
+“Phemius! let acts of gods, and heroes old,
+What ancient bards in hall and bower have told,
+Attemper’d to the lyre, your voice employ;
+Such the pleased ear will drink with silent joy.
+But, oh! forbear that dear disastrous name,
+To sorrow sacred, and secure of fame;
+My bleeding bosom sickens at the sound,
+And every piercing note inflicts a wound.”
+
+“Why, dearest object of my duteous love,
+(Replied the prince,) will you the bard reprove?
+Oft, Jove’s ethereal rays (resistless fire)
+The chanter’s soul and raptured song inspire
+Instinct divine? nor blame severe his choice,
+Warbling the Grecian woes with heart and voice;
+For novel lays attract our ravish’d ears;
+But old, the mind with inattention hears:
+Patient permit the sadly pleasing strain;
+Familiar now with grief, your tears refrain,
+And in the public woe forget your own;
+You weep not for a perish’d lord alone.
+What Greeks new wandering in the Stygian gloom,
+Wish your Ulysses shared an equal doom!
+Your widow’d hours, apart, with female toil
+And various labours of the loom beguile;
+There rule, from palace-cares remote and free;
+That care to man belongs, and most to me.”
+
+Mature beyond his years, the queen admires
+His sage reply, and with her train retires.
+Then swelling sorrows burst their former bounds,
+With echoing grief afresh the dome resounds;
+Till Pallas, piteous of her plaintive cries,
+In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes.
+
+Meantime, rekindled at the royal charms,
+Tumultuous love each beating bosom warms;
+Intemperate rage a wordy war began;
+But bold Telemachus assumed the man.
+“Instant (he cried) your female discord end,
+Ye deedless boasters! and the song attend;
+Obey that sweet compulsion, nor profane
+With dissonance the smooth melodious strain.
+Pacific now prolong the jovial feast;
+But when the dawn reveals the rosy east,
+I, to the peers assembled, shall propose
+The firm resolve, I here in few disclose;
+No longer live the cankers of my court;
+All to your several states with speed resort;
+Waste in wild riot what your land allows,
+There ply the early feast, and late carouse.
+But if, to honour lost, ’tis still decreed
+For you my bowl shall flow, my flock shall bleed;
+Judge and revenge my right, impartial Jove!
+By him and all the immortal thrones above
+(A sacred oath), each proud oppressor slain,
+Shall with inglorious gore this marble stain.”
+
+Awed by the prince, thus haughty, bold, and young,
+Rage gnaw’d the lip, and wonder chain’d the tongue.
+Silence at length the gay Antinous broke,
+Constrain’d a smile, and thus ambiguous spoke:
+“What god to your untutor’d youth affords
+This headlong torrent of amazing words?
+May Jove delay thy reign, and cumber late
+So bright a genius with the toils of state!”
+
+“Those toils (Telemachus serene replies)
+Have charms, with all their weight, t’allure the wise.
+Fast by the throne obsequious fame resides,
+And wealth incessant rolls her golden tides.
+Nor let Antinous rage, if strong desire
+Of wealth and fame a youthful bosom fire:
+Elect by Jove, his delegate of sway,
+With joyous pride the summons I’d obey.
+Whene’er Ulysses roams the realm of night,
+Should factious power dispute my lineal right,
+Some other Greeks a fairer claim may plead;
+To your pretence their title would precede.
+At least, the sceptre lost, I still should reign
+Sole o’er my vassals, and domestic train.”
+
+To this Eurymachus: “To Heaven alone
+Refer the choice to fill the vacant throne.
+Your patrimonial stores in peace possess;
+Undoubted, all your filial claim confess:
+Your private right should impious power invade,
+The peers of Ithaca would arm in aid.
+But say, that stranger guest who late withdrew,
+What and from whence? his name and lineage shew.
+His grave demeanour and majestic grace
+Speak him descended of no vulgar race:
+Did he some loan of ancient right require,
+Or came forerunner of your sceptr’d sire?”
+
+“Oh son of Polybus!” the prince replies,
+“No more my sire will glad these longing eyes;
+The queen’s fond hope inventive rumour cheers,
+Or vain diviners’ dreams divert her fears.
+That stranger-guest the Taphian realm obeys,
+A realm defended with encircling seas.
+Mentes, an ever-honour’d name, of old
+High in Ulysses’ social list enroll’d.”
+
+Thus he, though conscious of the ethereal guest,
+Answer’d evasive of the sly request.
+Meantime the lyre rejoins the sprightly lay;
+Love-dittied airs, and dance, conclude the day
+But when the star of eve with golden light
+Adorn’d the matron brow of sable night,
+The mirthful train dispersing quit the court,
+And to their several domes to rest resort.
+A towering structure to the palace join’d;
+To this his steps the thoughtful prince inclined:
+In his pavilion there, to sleep repairs;
+The lighted torch, the sage Euryclea bears
+(Daughter of Ops, the just Pisenor’s son,
+For twenty beeves by great Laertes won;
+In rosy prime with charms attractive graced,
+Honour’d by him, a gentle lord and chaste,
+With dear esteem: too wise, with jealous strife
+To taint the joys of sweet connubial life.
+Sole with Telemachus her service ends,
+A child she nursed him, and a man attends).
+Whilst to his couch himself the prince address’d,
+The duteous dame received the purple vest;
+The purple vest with decent care disposed,
+The silver ring she pull’d, the door reclosed,
+The bolt, obedient to the silken cord,
+To the strong staple’s inmost depth restored,
+Secured the valves. There, wrapped in silent shade,
+Pensive, the rules the goddess gave he weigh’d;
+Stretch’d on the downy fleece, no rest he knows,
+And in his raptured soul the vision glows.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK II.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE COUNCIL OF ITHACA.
+
+
+Telemachus in the assembly of the lords of Ithaca complains of the
+injustice done him by the suitors, and insists upon their departure
+from his palace; appealing to the princes, and exciting the people to
+declare against them. The suitors endeavour to justify their stay, at
+least till he shall send the queen to the court of Icarius her father;
+which he refuses. There appears a prodigy of two eagles in the sky,
+which an augur expounds to the ruin of the suitors. Telemachus then
+demands a vessel to carry him to Pylos and Sparta, there to inquire of
+his father’s fortunes. Pallas, in the shape of Mentor (an ancient
+friend of Ulysses), helps him to a ship, assists him in preparing
+necessaries for the voyage, and embarks with him that night; which
+concludes the second day from the opening of the poem. The scene
+continues in the palace of Ulysses, in Ithaca.
+
+
+Now reddening from the dawn, the morning ray
+Glow’d in the front of heaven, and gave the day
+The youthful hero, with returning light,
+Rose anxious from the inquietudes of night.
+A royal robe he wore with graceful pride,
+A two-edged falchion threaten’d by his side,
+Embroider’d sandals glitter’d as he trod,
+And forth he moved, majestic as a god.
+Then by his heralds, restless of delay,
+To council calls the peers: the peers obey.
+Soon as in solemn form the assembly sate,
+From his high dome himself descends in state.
+Bright in his hand a ponderous javelin shined;
+Two dogs, a faithful guard, attend behind;
+Pallas with grace divine his form improves,
+And gazing crowds admire him as he moves,
+
+His father’s throne he fill’d; while distant stood
+The hoary peers, and aged wisdom bow’d.
+
+’Twas silence all. At last AEgyptius spoke;
+AEgyptius, by his age and sorrow broke;
+A length of days his soul with prudence crown’d,
+A length of days had bent him to the ground.
+His eldest hope in arms to Ilion came,
+By great Ulysses taught the path to fame;
+But (hapless youth) the hideous Cyclops tore
+His quivering limbs, and quaff’d his spouting gore.
+Three sons remain’d; to climb with haughty fires
+The royal bed, Eurynomus aspires;
+The rest with duteous love his griefs assuage,
+And ease the sire of half the cares of age.
+Yet still his Antiphus he loves, he mourns,
+And, as he stood, he spoke and wept by turns,
+
+“Since great Ulysses sought the Phrygian plains,
+Within these walls inglorious silence reigns.
+Say then, ye peers! by whose commands we meet?
+Why here once more in solemn council sit?
+Ye young, ye old, the weighty cause disclose:
+Arrives some message of invading foes?
+Or say, does high necessity of state
+Inspire some patriot, and demand debate?
+The present synod speaks its author wise;
+Assist him, Jove, thou regent of the skies!”
+
+He spoke. Telemachus with transport glows,
+Embraced the omen, and majestic rose
+(His royal hand the imperial sceptre sway’d);
+Then thus, addressing to AEgyptius, said:
+
+“Reverend old man! lo here confess’d he stands
+By whom ye meet; my grief your care demands.
+No story I unfold of public woes,
+Nor bear advices of impending foes:
+Peace the blest land, and joys incessant crown:
+Of all this happy realm, I grieve alone.
+For my lost sire continual sorrows spring,
+The great, the good; your father and your king.
+Yet more; our house from its foundation bows,
+Our foes are powerful, and your sons the foes;
+Hither, unwelcome to the queen, they come;
+Why seek they not the rich Icarian dome?
+If she must wed, from other hands require
+The dowry: is Telemachus her sire?
+Yet through my court the noise of revel rings,
+And waste the wise frugality of kings.
+Scarce all my herds their luxury suffice;
+Scarce all my wine their midnight hours supplies.
+Safe in my youth, in riot still they grow,
+Nor in the helpless orphan dread a foe.
+But come it will, the time when manhood grants
+More powerful advocates than vain complaints.
+Approach that hour! insufferable wrong
+Cries to the gods, and vengeance sleeps too long.
+Rise then, ye peers! with virtuous anger rise;
+Your fame revere, but most the avenging skies.
+By all the deathless powers that reign above,
+By righteous Themis and by thundering Jove
+(Themis, who gives to councils, or denies
+Success; and humbles, or confirms the wise),
+Rise in my aid! suffice the tears that flow
+For my lost sire, nor add new woe to woe.
+If e’er he bore the sword to strengthen ill,
+Or, having power to wrong, betray’d the will,
+On me, on me your kindled wrath assuage,
+And bid the voice of lawless riot rage.
+If ruin to your royal race ye doom,
+Be you the spoilers, and our wealth consume.
+Then might we hope redress from juster laws,
+And raise all Ithaca to aid our cause:
+But while your sons commit the unpunish’d wrong,
+You make the arm of violence too strong.”
+
+While thus he spoke, with rage and grief he frown’d,
+And dash’d the imperial sceptre to the ground.
+The big round tear hung trembling in his eye:
+The synod grieved, and gave a pitying sigh,
+Then silent sate—at length Antinous burns
+With haughty rage, and sternly thus returns:
+
+“O insolence of youth! whose tongue affords
+Such railing eloquence, and war of words.
+Studious thy country’s worthies to defame,
+Thy erring voice displays thy mother’s shame.
+Elusive of the bridal day, she gives
+Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives.
+Did not the sun, through heaven’s wide azure roll’d,
+For three long years the royal fraud behold?
+While she, laborious in delusion, spread
+The spacious loom, and mix’d the various thread:
+Where as to life the wondrous figures rise,
+Thus spoke the inventive queen, with artful sighs:
+
+“Though cold in death Ulysses breathes no more,
+Cease yet awhile to urge the bridal hour:
+Cease, till to great Laertes I bequeath
+A task of grief, his ornaments of death.
+Lest when the Fates his royal ashes claim,
+The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame;
+When he, whom living mighty realms obey’d,
+Shall want in death a shroud to grace his shade.’
+
+“Thus she: at once the generous train complies,
+Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue’s fair disguise.
+The work she plied; but, studious of delay,
+By night reversed the labours of the day.
+While thrice the sun his annual journey made,
+The conscious lamp the midnight fraud survey’d;
+Unheard, unseen, three years her arts prevail;
+The fourth her maid unfolds the amazing tale.
+We saw, as unperceived we took our stand,
+The backward labours of her faithless hand.
+Then urged, she perfects her illustrious toils;
+A wondrous monument of female wiles!
+
+“But you, O peers! and thou, O prince! give ear
+(I speak aloud, that every Greek may hear):
+Dismiss the queen; and if her sire approves
+Let him espouse her to the peer she loves:
+Bid instant to prepare the bridal train,
+Nor let a race of princes wait in vain.
+Though with a grace divine her soul is blest,
+And all Minerva breathes within her breast,
+In wondrous arts than woman more renown’d,
+And more than woman with deep wisdom crown’d;
+Though Tyro nor Mycene match her name,
+Not great Alcmena (the proud boasts of fame);
+Yet thus by heaven adorn’d, by heaven’s decree
+She shines with fatal excellence, to thee:
+With thee, the bowl we drain, indulge the feast,
+Till righteous heaven reclaim her stubborn breast.
+What though from pole to pole resounds her name!
+The son’s destruction waits the mother’s fame:
+For, till she leaves thy court, it is decreed,
+Thy bowl to empty and thy flock to bleed.”
+
+While yet he speaks, Telemachus replies:
+“Ev’n nature starts, and what ye ask denies.
+Thus, shall I thus repay a mother’s cares,
+Who gave me life, and nursed my infant years!
+While sad on foreign shores Ulysses treads.
+Or glides a ghost with unapparent shades;
+How to Icarius in the bridal hour
+Shall I, by waste undone, refund the dower?
+How from my father should I vengeance dread!
+How would my mother curse my hated head!
+And while in wrath to vengeful fiends she cries,
+How from their hell would vengeful fiends arise!
+Abhorr’d by all, accursed my name would grow,
+The earth’s disgrace, and human-kind my foe.
+If this displease, why urge ye here your stay?
+Haste from the court, ye spoilers, haste away:
+Waste in wild riot what your land allows,
+There ply the early feast, and late carouse.
+But if to honour lost, ’tis still decreed
+For you my bowl shall flow, my flocks shall bleed;
+Judge, and assert my right, impartial Jove!
+By him, and all the immortal host above
+(A sacred oath), if heaven the power supply,
+Vengeance I vow, and for your wrongs ye die.”
+
+With that, two eagles from a mountain’s height
+By Jove’s command direct their rapid flight;
+Swift they descend, with wing to wing conjoin’d,
+Stretch their broad plumes, and float upon the wind.
+Above the assembled peers they wheel on high,
+And clang their wings, and hovering beat the sky;
+With ardent eyes the rival train they threat,
+And shrieking loud denounce approaching fate.
+They cuff, they tear; their cheeks and neck they rend,
+And from their plumes huge drops of blood descend;
+Then sailing o’er the domes and towers, they fly,
+Full toward the east, and mount into the sky.
+
+The wondering rivals gaze, with cares oppress’d,
+And chilling horrors freeze in every breast,
+Till big with knowledge of approaching woes,
+The prince of augurs, Halitherses, rose:
+Prescient he view’d the aërial tracks, and drew
+A sure presage from every wing that flew.
+
+“Ye sons (he cried) of Ithaca, give ear;
+Hear all! but chiefly you, O rivals! hear.
+Destruction sure o’er all your heads impends
+Ulysses comes, and death his steps attends.
+Nor to the great alone is death decreed;
+We and our guilty Ithaca must bleed.
+Why cease we then the wrath of heaven to stay?
+Be humbled all, and lead, ye great! the way.
+For lo my words no fancied woes relate;
+I speak from science and the voice of fate.
+
+“When great Ulysses sought the Phrygian shores
+To shake with war proud Ilion’s lofty towers,
+Deeds then undone my faithful tongue foretold:
+Heaven seal’d my words, and you those deeds behold.
+I see (I cried) his woes, a countless train;
+I see his friends o’erwhelm’d beneath the main;
+How twice ten years from shore to shore he roams:
+Now twice ten years are past, and now he comes!”
+
+To whom Eurymachus—“Fly, dotard fly,
+With thy wise dreams, and fables of the sky.
+Go prophesy at home, thy sons advise:
+Here thou art sage in vain—I better read the skies
+Unnumber’d birds glide through the aërial way;
+Vagrants of air, and unforeboding stray.
+Cold in the tomb, or in the deeps below,
+Ulysses lies; oh wert thou laid as low!
+Then would that busy head no broils suggest,
+For fire to rage Telemachus’ breast,
+From him some bribe thy venal tongue requires,
+And interest, not the god, thy voice inspires.
+His guideless youth, if thy experienced age
+Mislead fallacious into idle rage,
+Vengeance deserved thy malice shall repress.
+And but augment the wrongs thou would’st redress,
+Telemachus may bid the queen repair
+To great Icarius, whose paternal care
+Will guide her passion, and reward her choice
+With wealthy dower, and bridal gifts of price.
+Till she retires, determined we remain,
+And both the prince and augur threat in vain:
+His pride of words, and thy wild dream of fate,
+Move not the brave, or only move their hate,
+Threat on, O prince! elude the bridal day.
+Threat on, till all thy stores in waste decay.
+True, Greece affords a train of lovely dames,
+In wealth and beauty worthy of our flames:
+But never from this nobler suit we cease;
+For wealth and beauty less than virtue please.”
+
+To whom the youth: “Since then in vain I tell
+My numerous woes, in silence let them dwell.
+But Heaven, and all the Greeks, have heard my wrongs;
+To Heaven, and all the Greeks, redress belongs;
+Yet this I ask (nor be it ask’d in vain),
+A bark to waft me o’er the rolling main,
+The realms of Pyle and Sparta to explore,
+And seek my royal sire from shore to shore;
+If, or to fame his doubtful fate be known,
+Or to be learn’d from oracles alone,
+If yet he lives, with patience I forbear,
+Till the fleet hours restore the circling year;
+But if already wandering in the train
+Of empty shades, I measure back the main,
+Plant the fair column o’er the mighty dead,
+And yield his consort to the nuptial bed.”
+
+He ceased; and while abash’d the peers attend,
+Mentor arose, Ulysses’ faithful friend:
+(When fierce in arms he sought the scenes of war,
+“My friend (he cried), my palace be thy care;
+Years roll’d on years my godlike sire decay,
+Guard thou his age, and his behests obey.”)
+Stern as he rose, he cast his eyes around,
+That flash’d with rage; and as spoke, he frown’d,
+
+“O never, never more let king be just,
+Be mild in power, or faithful to his trust!
+Let tyrants govern with an iron rod,
+Oppress, destroy, and be the scourge of God;
+Since he who like a father held his reign,
+So soon forgot, was just and mild in vain!
+True, while my friend is grieved, his griefs I share;
+Yet now the rivals are my smallest care:
+They for the mighty mischiefs they devise,
+Ere long shall pay—their forfeit lives the price.
+But against you, ye Greeks! ye coward train!
+Gods! how my soul is moved with just disdain!
+Dumb ye all stand, and not one tongue affords
+His injured prince the little aid of words.”
+
+While yet he spoke, Leocritus rejoined:
+“O pride of words, and arrogance of mind!
+Would’st thou to rise in arms the Greeks advise?
+Join all your powers? in arms, ye Greeks, arise!
+Yet would your powers in vain our strength oppose.
+The valiant few o’ermatch a host of foes.
+Should great Ulysses stern appear in arms,
+While the bowl circles and the banquet warms;
+Though to his breast his spouse with transport flies,
+Torn from her breast, that hour, Ulysses dies.
+But hence retreating to your domes repair.
+To arm the vessel, Mentor! be thy care,
+And Halitherses! thine: be each his friend;
+Ye loved the father: go, the son attend.
+But yet, I trust, the boaster means to stay
+Safe in the court, nor tempt the watery way.”
+
+Then, with a rushing sound the assembly bend
+Diverse their steps: the rival rout ascend
+The royal dome; while sad the prince explores
+The neighbouring main, and sorrowing treads the shores.
+There, as the waters o’er his hands he shed,
+The royal suppliant to Minerva pray’d:
+
+“O goddess! who descending from the skies
+Vouchsafed thy presence to my wondering eyes,
+By whose commands the raging deeps I trace,
+And seek my sire through storms and rolling seas!
+Hear from thy heavens above, O warrior maid!
+Descend once more, propitious to my aid.
+Without thy presence, vain is thy command:
+Greece, and the rival train, thy voice withstand.”
+
+Indulgent to his prayer, the goddess took
+Sage Mentor’s form, and thus like Mentor spoke:
+
+“O prince, in early youth divinely wise,
+Born, the Ulysses of thy age to rise
+If to the son the father’s worth descends,
+O’er the wide wave success thy ways attends
+To tread the walks of death he stood prepared;
+And what he greatly thought, he nobly dared.
+Were not wise sons descendant of the wise,
+And did not heroes from brave heroes rise,
+Vain were my hopes: few sons attain the praise
+Of their great sires, and most their sires disgrace.
+But since thy veins paternal virtue fires,
+And all Penelope thy soul inspires,
+Go, and succeed: the rivals’ aims despise;
+For never, never wicked man was wise.
+Blind they rejoice, though now, ev’n now they fall;
+Death hastes amain: one hour o’erwhelms them all!
+And lo, with speed we plough the watery way;
+My power shall guard thee, and my hand convey:
+The winged vessel studious I prepare,
+Through seas and realms companion of thy care.
+Thou to the court ascend: and to the shores
+(When night advances) bear the naval stores;
+Bread, that decaying man with strength supplies,
+And generous wine, which thoughtful sorrow flies.
+Meanwhile the mariners, by my command,
+Shall speed aboard, a valiant chosen band.
+Wide o’er the bay, by vessel vessel rides;
+The best I choose to waft then o’er the tides.”
+
+She spoke: to his high dome the prince returns,
+And, as he moves, with royal anguish mourns.
+’Twas riot all, among the lawless train;
+Boar bled by boar, and goat by goat lay slain.
+Arrived, his hand the gay Antinous press’d,
+And thus deriding, with a smile address’d:
+
+“Grieve not, O daring prince! that noble heart;
+Ill suits gay youth the stern heroic part.
+Indulge the genial hour, unbend thy soul,
+Leave thought to age, and drain the flowing bowl.
+Studious to ease thy grief, our care provides
+The bark, to waft thee o’er the swelling tides.”
+
+“Is this (returns the prince) for mirth a time?
+When lawless gluttons riot, mirth’s a crime;
+The luscious wines, dishonour’d, lose their taste;
+The song is noise, and impious is the feast.
+Suffice it to have spent with swift decay
+The wealth of kings, and made my youth a prey.
+But now the wise instructions of the sage,
+And manly thoughts inspired by manly age,
+Teach me to seek redress for all my woe,
+Here, or in Pyle—in Pyle, or here, your foe.
+Deny your vessels, ye deny in vain:
+A private voyager I pass the main.
+Free breathe the winds, and free the billows flow;
+And where on earth I live, I live your foe.”
+
+He spoke and frown’d, nor longer deign’d to stay,
+Sternly his hand withdrew, and strode away.
+
+Meantime, o’er all the dome, they quaff, they feast,
+Derisive taunts were spread from guest to guest,
+And each in jovial mood his mate address’d:
+
+“Tremble ye not, O friends, and coward fly,
+Doom’d by the stern Telemachus to die?
+To Pyle or Sparta to demand supplies,
+Big with revenge, the mighty warrior flies;
+Or comes from Ephyre with poisons fraught,
+And kills us all in one tremendous draught!”
+
+“Or who can say (his gamesome mate replies)
+But, while the danger of the deeps he tries
+He, like his sire, may sink deprived of breath,
+And punish us unkindly by his death?
+What mighty labours would he then create,
+To seize his treasures, and divide his state,
+The royal palace to the queen convey,
+Or him she blesses in the bridal day!”
+
+Meantime the lofty rooms the prince surveys,
+Where lay the treasures of the Ithacian race:
+Here ruddy brass and gold refulgent blazed;
+There polished chests embroider’d vestures graced;
+Here jars of oil breathed forth a rich perfume;
+There casks of wine in rows adorn’d the dome
+(Pure flavorous wine, by gods in bounty given
+And worthy to exalt the feasts of heaven).
+Untouch’d they stood, till, his long labours o’er,
+The great Ulysses reach’d his native shore.
+A double strength of bars secured the gates;
+Fast by the door the wise Euryclea waits;
+Euryclea, who great Ops! thy lineage shared,
+And watch’d all night, all day, a faithful guard.
+
+To whom the prince: “O thou whose guardian care
+Nursed the most wretched king that breathes the air;
+Untouch’d and sacred may these vessels stand,
+Till great Ulysses views his native land.
+But by thy care twelve urns of wine be fill’d;
+Next these in worth, and firm these urns be seal’d;
+And twice ten measures of the choicest flour
+Prepared, ere yet descends the evening hour.
+For when the favouring shades of night arise,
+And peaceful slumbers close my mother’s eyes,
+Me from our coast shall spreading sails convey,
+To seek Ulysses through the watery way.”
+
+While yet he spoke, she fill’d the walls with cries,
+And tears ran trickling from her aged eyes.
+“O whither, whither flies my son (she cried)
+To realms; that rocks and roaring seas divide?
+In foreign lands thy father’s days decay’d.
+And foreign lands contain the mighty dead.
+The watery way ill-fated if thou try,
+All, all must perish, and by fraud you die!
+Then stay, my, child! storms beat, and rolls the main,
+Oh, beat those storms, and roll the seas in vain!”
+
+“Far hence (replied the prince) thy fears be driven:
+Heaven calls me forth; these counsels are of Heaven.
+But, by the powers that hate the perjured, swear,
+To keep my voyage from the royal ear,
+Nor uncompell’d the dangerous truth betray,
+Till twice six times descends the lamp of day,
+Lest the sad tale a mother’s life impair,
+And grief destroy what time awhile would spare.”
+
+Thus he. The matron with uplifted eyes
+Attests the all-seeing sovereign of the skies.
+Then studious she prepares the choicest flour,
+The strength of wheat and wines an ample store.
+While to the rival train the prince returns,
+The martial goddess with impatience burns;
+Like thee, Telemachus, in voice and size,
+With speed divine from street to street she flies,
+She bids the mariners prepared to stand,
+When night descends, embodied on the strand.
+Then to Noëmon swift she runs, she flies,
+And asks a bark: the chief a bark supplies.
+
+And now, declining with his sloping wheels,
+Down sunk the sun behind the western hills
+The goddess shoved the vessel from the shores,
+And stow’d within its womb the naval stores,
+Full in the openings of the spacious main
+It rides; and now descends the sailor-train,
+
+Next, to the court, impatient of delay.
+With rapid step the goddess urged her way;
+There every eye with slumberous chains she bound,
+And dash’d the flowing goblet to the ground.
+Drowsy they rose, with heavy fumes oppress’d,
+Reel’d from the palace, and retired to rest.
+Then thus, in Mentor’s reverend form array’d,
+Spoke to Telemachus the martial maid.
+“Lo! on the seas, prepared the vessel stands,
+The impatient mariner thy speed demands.”
+Swift as she spoke, with rapid pace she leads;
+The footsteps of the deity he treads.
+Swift to the shore they move along the strand;
+The ready vessel rides, the sailors ready stand.
+
+He bids them bring their stores; the attending train
+Load the tall bark, and launch into the main,
+The prince and goddess to the stern ascend;
+To the strong stroke at once the rowers bend.
+Full from the west she bids fresh breezes blow;
+The sable billows foam and roar below.
+The chief his orders gives; the obedient band
+With due observance wait the chief’s command;
+With speed the mast they rear, with speed unbind
+The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind.
+High o’er the roaring waves the spreading sails
+Bow the tall mast, and swell before the gales;
+The crooked keel the parting surge divides,
+And to the stern retreating roll the tides.
+And now they ship their oars, and crown with wine
+The holy goblet to the powers divine:
+Imploring all the gods that reign above,
+But chief the blue-eyed progeny of Jove.
+
+Thus all the night they stem the liquid way,
+And end their voyage with the morning ray.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK III.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE INTERVIEW OF TELEMACHUS AND NESTOR.
+
+
+Telemachus, guided by Pallas in the shape of Mentor, arrives in the
+morning at Pylos, where Nestor and his sons are sacrificing on the sea-
+shore to Neptune. Telemachus declares the occasion of his coming: and
+Nestor relates what passed in their return from Troy, how their fleets
+were separated, and he never since heard of Ulysses. They discourse
+concerning the death of Agamemnon, the revenge of Orestes, and the
+injuries of the suitors. Nestor advises him to go to Sparta, and
+inquire further of Menelaus. The sacrifice ending with the night,
+Minerva vanishes from them in the form of an eagle: Telemachus is
+lodged in the palace. The next morning they sacrifice a bullock to
+Minerva; and Telemachus proceeds on his journey to Sparta, attended by
+Pisistratus.
+    The scene lies on the sea-shore of Pylos.
+
+
+The sacred sun, above the waters raised,
+Through heaven’s eternal brazen portals blazed;
+And wide o’er earth diffused his cheering ray,
+To gods and men to give the golden day.
+Now on the coast of Pyle the vessel falls,
+Before old Neleus’ venerable walls.
+There suppliant to the monarch of the flood,
+At nine green theatres the Pylians stood,
+Each held five hundred (a deputed train),
+At each, nine oxen on the sand lay slain.
+They taste the entrails, and the altars load
+With smoking thighs, an offering to the god.
+Full for the port the Ithacensians stand,
+And furl their sails, and issue on the land.
+Telemachus already press’d the shore;
+Not first, the power of wisdom march’d before,
+And ere the sacrificing throng he join’d,
+Admonish’d thus his well-attending mind:
+
+“Proceed, my son! this youthful shame expel;
+An honest business never blush to tell.
+To learn what fates thy wretched sire detain,
+We pass’d the wide immeasurable main.
+Meet then the senior far renown’d for sense
+With reverend awe, but decent confidence:
+Urge him with truth to frame his fair replies;
+And sure he will; for wisdom never lies.”
+
+“Oh tell me, Mentor! tell me, faithful guide
+(The youth with prudent modesty replied),
+How shall I meet, or how accost the sage,
+Unskill’d in speech, nor yet mature of age?
+Awful th’approach, and hard the task appears,
+To question wisely men of riper years.”
+
+To whom the martial goddess thus rejoin’d:
+“Search, for some thoughts, thy own suggesting mind;
+And others, dictated by heavenly power,
+Shall rise spontaneous in the needful hour.
+For nought unprosperous shall thy ways attend,
+Born with good omens, and with heaven thy friend.”
+
+She spoke, and led the way with swiftest speed;
+As swift, the youth pursued the way she led;
+and join’d the band before the sacred fire,
+Where sate, encompass’d with his sons, the sire.
+The youth of Pylos, some on pointed wood
+Transfix’d the fragments, some prepared the food:
+In friendly throngs they gather to embrace
+Their unknown guests, and at the banquet place,
+Pisistratus was first to grasp their hands,
+And spread soft hides upon the yellow sands;
+Along the shore the illustrious pair he led,
+Where Nestor sate with youthful Thrasymed,
+To each a portion of the feast he bore,
+And held the golden goblet foaming o’er;
+Then first approaching to the elder guest,
+The latent goddess in these words address’d:
+“Whoe’er thou art, whom fortune brings to keep
+These rites of Neptune, monarch of the deep,
+Thee first it fits, O stranger! to prepare
+The due libation and the solemn prayer;
+Then give thy friend to shed the sacred wine;
+Though much thy younger, and his years like mine,
+He too, I deem, implores the power divine;
+For all mankind alike require their grace,
+All born to want; a miserable race!”
+He spake, and to her hand preferr’d the bowl;
+A secret pleasure touch’d Athena’s soul,
+To see the preference due to sacred age
+Regarded ever by the just and sage.
+Of Ocean’s king she then implores the grace.
+“O thou! whose arms this ample globe embrace,
+Fulfil our wish, and let thy glory shine
+On Nestor first, and Nestor’s royal line;
+Next grant the Pylian states their just desires,
+Pleased with their hecatomb’s ascending fires;
+Last, deign Telemachus and me to bless,
+And crown our voyage with desired success.”
+
+Thus she: and having paid the rite divine,
+Gave to Ulysses’ son the rosy wine.
+Suppliant he pray’d. And now the victims dress’d
+They draw, divide, and celebrate the feast.
+The banquet done, the narrative old man,
+Thus mild, the pleasing conference began:
+
+“Now gentle guests! the genial banquet o’er,
+It fits to ask ye, what your native shore,
+And whence your race? on what adventure say,
+Thus far you wander through the watery way?
+Relate if business, or the thirst of gain,
+Engage your journey o’er the pathless main
+Where savage pirates seek through seas unknown
+The lives of others, venturous of their own.”
+
+Urged by the precepts by the goddess given,
+And fill’d with confidence infused from Heaven,
+The youth, whom Pallas destined to be wise
+And famed among the sons of men, replies:
+“Inquir’st thou, father! from what coast we came?
+(Oh grace and glory of the Grecian name!)
+From where high Ithaca o’erlooks the floods,
+Brown with o’er-arching shades and pendent woods
+Us to these shores our filial duty draws,
+A private sorrow, not a public cause.
+My sire I seek, where’er the voice of fame
+Has told the glories of his noble name,
+The great Ulysses; famed from shore to shore
+For valour much, for hardy suffering more.
+Long time with thee before proud Ilion’s wall
+In arms he fought; with thee beheld her fall.
+Of all the chiefs, this hero’s fate alone
+Has Jove reserved, unheard of, and unknown;
+Whether in fields by hostile fury slain,
+Or sunk by tempests in the gulfy main?
+Of this to learn, oppress’d with tender fears,
+Lo, at thy knee his suppliant son appears.
+If or thy certain eye, or curious ear,
+Have learnt his fate, the whole dark story clear
+And, oh! whate’er Heaven destined to betide,
+Let neither flattery soothe, nor pity hide.
+Prepared I stand: he was but born to try
+The lot of man; to suffer, and to die.
+Oh then, if ever through the ten years’ war
+The wise, the good Ulysses claim’d thy care;
+If e’er he join’d thy council, or thy sword,
+True in his deed, and constant to his word;
+Far as thy mind through backward time can see
+Search all thy stores of faithful memory:
+’Tis sacred truth I ask, and ask of thee.”
+
+To him experienced Nestor thus rejoin’d:
+“O friend! what sorrows dost thou bring to mind!
+Shall I the long, laborious scene review,
+And open all the wounds of Greece anew?
+What toils by sea! where dark in quest of prey
+Dauntless we roved; Achilles led the way;
+What toils by land! where mix’d in fatal fight
+Such numbers fell, such heroes sunk to night;
+There Ajax great, Achilles there the brave,
+There wise Patroclus, fill an early grave:
+There, too, my son—ah, once my best delight
+Once swift of foot, and terrible in fight;
+In whom stern courage with soft virtue join’d
+A faultless body and a blameless mind;
+Antilochus—What more can I relate?
+How trace the tedious series of our fate?
+Not added years on years my task could close,
+The long historian of my country’s woes;
+Back to thy native islands might’st thou sail,
+And leave half-heard the melancholy tale.
+Nine painful years on that detested shore;
+What stratagems we form’d, what toils we bore!
+Still labouring on, till scarce at last we found
+Great Jove propitious, and our conquest crown’d.
+Far o’er the rest thy mighty father shined,
+In wit, in prudence, and in force of mind.
+Art thou the son of that illustrious sire?
+With joy I grasp thee, and with love admire.
+So like your voices, and your words so wise,
+Who finds thee younger must consult his eyes.
+Thy sire and I were one; nor varied aught
+In public sentence, or in private thought;
+Alike to council or the assembly came,
+With equal souls, and sentiments the same.
+But when (by wisdom won) proud Ilion burn’d,
+And in their ships the conquering Greeks return’d,
+’Twas God’s high will the victors to divide,
+And turn the event, confounding human pride;
+Some he destroy’d, some scatter’d as the dust
+(Not all were prudent, and not all were just).
+Then Discord, sent by Pallas from above,
+Stern daughter of the great avenger Jove,
+The brother-kings inspired with fell debate;
+Who call’d to council all the Achaian state,
+But call’d untimely (not the sacred rite
+Observed, nor heedful of the setting light,
+Nor herald sword the session to proclaim),
+Sour with debauch, a reeling tribe they came.
+To these the cause of meeting they explain,
+And Menelaus moves to cross the main;
+Not so the king of men: he will’d to stay,
+The sacred rites and hecatombs to pay,
+And calm Minerva’s wrath. Oh blind to fate!
+The gods not lightly change their love, or hate.
+With ireful taunts each other they oppose,
+Till in loud tumult all the Greeks arose.
+Now different counsels every breast divide,
+Each burns with rancour to the adverse side;
+The unquiet night strange projects entertain’d
+(So Jove, that urged us to our fate, ordain’d).
+We with the rising morn our ships unmoor’d,
+And brought our captives and our stores aboard;
+But half the people with respect obey’d
+The king of men, and at his bidding stay’d.
+Now on the wings of winds our course we keep
+(For God had smooth’d the waters of the deep);
+For Tenedos we spread our eager oars,
+There land, and pay due victims to the powers;
+To bless our safe return, we join in prayer;
+But angry Jove dispersed our vows in air,
+And raised new discord. Then (so Heaven decreed)
+Ulysses first and Nestor disagreed!
+Wise as he was, by various counsels sway’d,
+He there, though late, to please the monarch, stay’d.
+But I, determined, stem the foamy floods,
+Warn’d of the coming fury of the gods.
+With us, Tydides fear’d, and urged his haste:
+And Menelaus came, but came the last,
+He join’d our vessels in the Lesbian bay,
+While yet we doubted of our watery way;
+If to the right to urge the pilot’s toil
+(The safer road), beside the Psyrian isle;
+Or the straight course to rocky Chios plough,
+And anchor under Mimas’ shaggy brow?
+We sought direction of the power divine:
+The god propitious gave the guiding sign;
+Through the mid seas he bid our navy steer,
+And in Euboea shun the woes we fear.
+The whistling winds already waked the sky;
+Before the whistling winds the vessels fly,
+With rapid swiftness cut the liquid way,
+And reach Gerestus at the point of day.
+There hecatombs of bulls, to Neptune slain,
+High-flaming please the monarch of the main.
+The fourth day shone, when all their labours o’er,
+Tydides’ vessels touched the wish’d-for shore.
+But I to Pylos scud before the gales,
+The god still breathing on my swelling sails;
+Separate from all, I safely landed here;
+Their fates or fortunes never reach’d my ear.
+Yet what I learn’d, attend; as here I sat,
+And ask’d each voyager each hero’s fate;
+Curious to know, and willing to relate.
+
+“Safe reach’d the Myrmidons their native land,
+Beneath Achilles’ warlike son’s command.
+Those, whom the heir of great Apollo’s art,
+Brave Philoctetes, taught to wing the dart;
+And those whom Idomen from Ilion’s plain
+Had led, securely cross’d the dreadful main
+How Agamemnon touch’d his Argive coast,
+And how his life by fraud and force he lost,
+And how the murderer, paid his forfeit breath;
+What lands so distant from that scene of death
+But trembling heard the fame? and heard, admire.
+How well the son appeased his slaughter’d sire!
+Ev’n to the unhappy, that unjustly bleed,
+Heaven gives posterity, to avenge the deed.
+So fell Ægysthus; and mayest thou, my friend,
+(On whom the virtues of thy sire descend,)
+Make future times thy equal act adore,
+And be what brave Orestes was before!”
+
+The prudent youth replied: “O thou the grace
+And lasting glory of the Grecian race!
+Just was the vengeance, and to latest days
+Shall long posterity resound the praise.
+Some god this arm with equal prowess bless!
+And the proud suitors shall its force confess;
+Injurious men! who while my soul is sore
+Of fresh affronts, are meditating more.
+But Heaven denies this honour to my hand,
+Nor shall my father repossess the land;
+The father’s fortune never to return,
+And the sad son’s to softer and to mourn!”
+Thus he; and Nestor took the word: “My son,
+Is it then true, as distant rumours run,
+That crowds of rivals for thy mother’s charms
+Thy palace fill with insults and alarms?
+Say, is the fault, through tame submission, thine?
+Or leagued against thee, do thy people join,
+Moved by some oracle, or voice divine?
+And yet who knows, but ripening lies in fate
+An hour of vengeance for the afflicted state;
+When great Ulysses shall suppress these harms,
+Ulysses singly, or all Greece in arms.
+But if Athena, war’s triumphant maid,
+The happy son will as the father aid,
+(Whose fame and safety was her constant care
+In every danger and in every war:
+Never on man did heavenly favour shine
+With rays so strong, distinguish’d and divine,
+As those with which Minerva mark’d thy sire)
+So might she love thee, so thy soul inspire!
+Soon should their hopes in humble dust be laid,
+And long oblivion of the bridal bed.”
+
+“Ah! no such hope (the prince with sighs replies)
+Can touch my breast; that blessing Heaven denies.
+Ev’n by celestial favour were it given,
+Fortune or fate would cross the will of Heaven.”
+
+“What words are these, and what imprudence thine?
+(Thus interposed the martial maid divine)
+Forgetful youth! but know, the Power above
+With ease can save each object of his love;
+Wide as his will, extends his boundless grace;
+Nor lost in time nor circumscribed by place.
+Happier his lot, who, many sorrows pass’d,
+Long labouring gains his natal shore at last;
+Than who, too speedy, hastes to end his life
+By some stern ruffian, or adulterous wife.
+Death only is the lot which none can miss,
+And all is possible to Heaven but this.
+The best, the dearest favourite of the sky,
+Must taste that cup, for man is born to die.”
+
+Thus check’d, replied Ulysses’ prudent heir:
+“Mentor, no more—the mournful thought forbear;
+For he no more must draw his country’s breath,
+Already snatch’d by fate, and the black doom of death!
+Pass we to other subjects; and engage
+On themes remote the venerable sage
+(Who thrice has seen the perishable kind
+Of men decay, and through three ages shined
+Like gods majestic, and like gods in mind);
+For much he knows, and just conclusions draws,
+From various precedents, and various laws.
+O son of Neleus! awful Nestor, tell
+How he, the mighty Agamemnon, fell;
+By what strange fraud Ægysthus wrought, relate
+(By force he could not) such a hero’s fate?
+Live Menelaus not in Greece? or where
+Was then the martial brother’s pious care?
+Condemn’d perhaps some foreign shore to tread;
+Or sure Ægysthus had not dared the deed.”
+
+To whom the full of days: Illustrious youth,
+Attend (though partly thou hast guess’d) the truth.
+For had the martial Menelaus found
+The ruffian breathing yet on Argive ground;
+Nor earth had bid his carcase from the skies,
+Nor Grecian virgins shriek’d his obsequies,
+But fowls obscene dismember’d his remains,
+And dogs had torn him on the naked plains.
+While us the works of bloody Mars employ’d,
+The wanton youth inglorious peace enjoy’d:
+He stretch’d at ease in Argos’ calm recess
+(Whose stately steeds luxuriant pastures bless),
+With flattery’s insinuating art
+Soothed the frail queen, and poison’d all her heart.
+At first, with worthy shame and decent pride,
+The royal dame his lawless suit denied.
+For virtue’s image yet possess’d her mind.
+Taught by a master of the tuneful kind;
+Atrides, parting for the Trojan war,
+Consign’d the youthful consort to his care.
+True to his charge, the bard preserved her long
+In honour’s limits; such the power of song.
+But when the gods these objects of their hate
+Dragg’d to destruction by the links of fate;
+The bard they banish’d from his native soil,
+And left all helpless in a desert isle;
+There he, the sweetest of the sacred train,
+Sung dying to the rocks, but sung in vain.
+Then virtue was no more; her guard away,
+She fell, to lust a voluntary prey.
+Even to the temple stalk’d the adulterous spouse,
+With impious thanks, and mockery of the vows,
+With images, with garments, and with gold;
+And odorous fumes from loaded altars roll’d.
+
+“Meantime from flaming Troy we cut the way
+With Menelaus, through the curling sea.
+But when to Sunium’s sacred point we came,
+Crown’d with the temple of the Athenian dame;
+Atride’s pilot, Phrontes, there expired
+(Phrontes, of all the songs of men admired
+To steer the bounding bark with steady toil,
+When the storm thickens, and the billows boil);
+While yet he exercised the steerman’s art,
+Apollo touch’d him with his gentle dart;
+Even with the rudder in his hand, he fell.
+To pay whole honours to the shades of hell,
+We check’d our haste, by pious office bound,
+And laid our old companion in the ground.
+And now the rites discharged, our course we keep
+Far on the gloomy bosom of the deep:
+Soon as Malae’s misty tops arise,
+Sudden the Thunderer blackens all the skies,
+And the winds whistle, and the surges roll
+Mountains on mountains, and obscure the pole.
+The tempest scatters, and divides our fleet;
+Part, the storm urges on the coast of Crete,
+Where winding round the rich Cydonian plain,
+The streams of Jardan issue to the main.
+There stands a rock, high, eminent and steep,
+Whose shaggy brow o’erhangs the shady deep,
+And views Gortyna on the western side;
+On this rough Auster drove the impetuous tide:
+With broken force the billows roll’d away,
+And heaved the fleet into the neighb’ring bay.
+Thus saved from death, they gain’d the Phæstan shores,
+With shatter’d vessels and disabled oars;
+But five tall barks the winds and water toss’d,
+Far from their fellows, on the Ægyptian coast.
+There wander’d Menelaus through foreign shores
+Amassing gold, and gathering naval stores;
+While cursed Ægysthus the detested deed
+By fraud fulfilled, and his great brother bled.
+Seven years, the traitor rich Mycenae sway’d,
+And his stern rule the groaning land obey’d;
+The eighth, from Athens to his realm restored,
+Orestes brandish’d the avenging sword,
+Slew the dire pair, and gave to funeral flame
+The vile assassin and adulterous dame.
+That day, ere yet the bloody triumphs cease,
+Return’d Atrides to the coast of Greece,
+And safe to Argos port his navy brought,
+With gifts of price and ponderous treasure fraught.
+Hence warn’d, my son, beware! nor idly stand
+Too long a stranger to thy native land;
+Lest heedless absence wear thy wealth away,
+While lawless feasters in thy palace away;
+Perhaps may seize thy realm, and share the spoil;
+And though return, with disappointed toil,
+From thy vain journey, to a rifled isle.
+However, my friend, indulge one labour more,
+And seek Atrides on the Spartan shore.
+He, wandering long a wider circle made,
+And many-languaged nations has survey’d:
+And measured tracks unknown to other ships,
+Amid the monstrous wonders of the deeps,
+(A length of ocean and unbounded sky.
+Which scarce the sea-fowl in a year o’erfly);
+Go then; to Sparta take the watery way,
+Thy ship and sailors but for orders stay;
+Or, if my land then choose thy course to bend,
+My steeds, my chariots, and my songs, attend;
+Thee to Atrides they shall safe convey,
+Guides of thy road, companions of thy way.
+Urge him with truth to frame his wise replies,
+And sure he will; for Menelaus is wise.”
+Thus while he speaks the ruddy sun descends,
+And twilight grey her evening shade extends.
+Then thus the blue-eyed maid: “O full of days!
+Wise are thy words, and just are all thy ways.
+Now immolate the tongues, and mix the wine,
+Sacred to Neptune and the powers divine,
+The lamp of day is quench’d beneath the deep,
+And soft approach the balmy hours of sleep;
+Nor fits it to prolong the heavenly feast,
+Timeless, indecent, but retire to rest.”
+
+So spake Jove’s daughter, the celestial maid,
+The sober train attended and obey’d.
+The sacred heralds on their hands around
+Pour’d the full urns; the youths the goblets crown’d;
+From bowl to bowl the homely beverage flows;
+While to the final sacrifice they rose.
+The tongues they cast upon the fragrant flame,
+And pour, above, the consecrated stream.
+And now, their thirst by copious draughts allay’d,
+The youthful hero and the Athenian maid
+Propose departure from the finish’d rite,
+And in their hollow bark to pass the night;
+But this hospitable sage denied,
+“Forbid it, Jove! and all the gods! (he cried),
+Thus from my walls and the much-loved son to send
+Of such a hero, and of such a friend!
+Me, as some needy peasant, would ye leave,
+Whom Heaven denies the blessing to relieve?
+Me would ye leave, who boast imperial sway,
+When beds of royal state invite your stay?
+No—long as life this mortal shall inspire,
+Or as my children imitate their sire.
+Here shall the wandering stranger find his home,
+And hospitable rites adorn the dome.”
+
+“Well hast thou spoke (the blue-eyed maid replies),
+Beloved old man! benevolent as wise.
+Be the kind dictates of thy heart obey’d,
+And let thy words Telemachus persuade:
+He to thy palace shall thy steps pursue;
+I to the ship, to give the orders due,
+Prescribe directions and confirm the crew.
+For I alone sustain their naval cares,
+Who boast experience from these silver hairs;
+All youths the rest, whom to this journey move
+Like years, like tempers, and their prince’s love
+There in the vessel shall I pass the night;
+And, soon as morning paints the fields of light,
+I go to challenge from the Caucons bold
+A debt, contracted in the days of old,
+But this, thy guest, received with friendly care
+Let thy strong coursers swift to Sparta bear;
+Prepare thy chariot at the dawn of day,
+And be thy son companion of his way.”
+
+Then, turning with the word, Minerva flies,
+And soars an eagle through the liquid skies.
+Vision divine! the throng’d spectators gaze
+In holy wonder fix’d, and still amaze.
+But chief the reverend sage admired; he took
+The hand of young Telemachus, and spoke:
+“Oh, happy youth! and favoured of the skies,
+Distinguished care of guardian deities!
+Whose early years for future worth engage,
+No vulgar manhood, no ignoble age.
+For lo! none other of the course above,
+Then she, the daughter of almighty Jove,
+Pallas herself, the war-triumphant maid;
+Confess’d is thine, as once thy father’s aid.
+So guide me, goddess! so propitious shine
+On me, my consort, and my royal line!
+A yearling bullock to thy name shall smoke,
+Untamed, unconscious of the galling yoke,
+With ample forehead, and yet tender horns,
+Whose budding honours ductile gold adorns.”
+
+Submissive thus the hoary sire preferr’d
+His holy vow: the favouring goddess heard.
+Then, slowly rising, o’er the sandy space
+Precedes the father, follow’d by his race,
+(A long procession) timely marching home
+In comely order to the regal dome.
+There when arrived, on thrones around him placed,
+His sons and grandsons the wide circle graced.
+To these the hospitable sage, in sign
+Of social welcome, mix’d the racy wine
+(Late from the mellowing cask restored to light,
+By ten long years refined, and rosy bright).
+To Pallas high the foaming bowl he crown’d,
+And sprinkled large libations on the ground.
+Each drinks a full oblivion of his cares,
+And to the gifts of balmy sleep repairs.
+Deep in a rich alcove the prince was laid,
+And slept beneath the pompous colonnade;
+Fast by his side Pisistratus was spread
+(In age his equal) on a splendid bed:
+But in an inner court, securely closed,
+The reverend Nestor and his queen reposed.
+
+When now Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
+With rosy lustre purpled o’er the lawn,
+The old man early rose, walk’d forth, and sate
+On polish’d stone before his palace gate;
+With unguents smooth the lucid marble shone,
+Where ancient Neleus sate, a rustic throne;
+But he descending to the infernal shade,
+Sage Nestor fill’d it, and the sceptre sway’d.
+His sons around him mild obeisance pay,
+And duteous take the orders of the day.
+First Echephron and Stratius quit their bed;
+Then Perseus, Aretus, and Thrasymed;
+The last Pisistratus arose from rest:
+They came, and near him placed the stranger-guest.
+To these the senior thus declared his will:
+“My sons! the dictates of your sire fulfil.
+To Pallas, first of gods, prepare the feast,
+Who graced our rites, a more than mortal guest
+Let one, despatchful, bid some swain to lead
+A well-fed bullock from the grassy mead;
+One seek the harbour where the vessels moor,
+And bring thy friends, Telemachus! ashore
+(Leave only two the galley to attend);
+Another Laerceus must we send,
+Artist devine, whose skilful hands infold
+The victim’s horn with circumfusile gold.
+The rest may here the pious duty share,
+And bid the handmaids for the feast prepare,
+The seats to range, the fragrant wood to bring,
+And limpid waters from the living spring.”
+
+He said, and busy each his care bestow’d;
+Already at the gates the bullock low’d,
+Already came the Ithacensian crew,
+The dexterous smith the tools already drew;
+His ponderous hammer and his anvil sound,
+And the strong tongs to turn the metal round.
+Nor was Minerva absent from the rite,
+She view’d her honours, and enjoyed the sight,
+With reverend hand the king presents the gold,
+Which round the intorted horns the gilder roll’d.
+So wrought as Pallas might with pride behold.
+Young Aretus from forth his bridal bower
+Brought the full laver, o’er their hands to pour,
+And canisters of consecrated flour.
+Stratius and Echephron the victim led;
+The axe was held by warlike Thrasymed,
+In act to strike; before him Perseus stood,
+The vase extending to receive the blood.
+The king himself initiates to the power:
+Scatters with quivering hand the sacred flour,
+And the stream sprinkles; from the curling brows
+The hair collected in the fire he throws.
+Soon as due vows on every part were paid,
+And sacred wheat upon the victim laid,
+Strong Thrasymed discharged the speeding blow
+Full on his neck, and cut the nerves in two.
+Down sunk the heavy beast; the females round
+Maids, wives, and matrons, mix a shrilling sound.
+Nor scorned the queen the holy choir to join
+(The first born she, of old Clymenus’ line:
+In youth by Nestor loved, of spotless fame.
+And loved in age, Eurydice her name).
+From earth they rear him, struggling now with death;
+And Nestor’s youngest stops the vents of breath.
+The soul for ever flies; on all sides round
+Streams the black blood, and smokes upon the ground
+The beast they then divide and disunite
+The ribs and limbs, observant of the rite:
+On these, in double cauls involved with art,
+The choicest morsels lay from every part.
+The sacred sage before his altar stands,
+Turns the burnt offering with his holy hands,
+And pours the wine, and bids the flames aspire;
+The youth with instruments surround the fire.
+The thighs now sacrificed, and entrails dress’d,
+The assistants part, transfix, and broil the rest
+While these officious tend the rites divine,
+The last fair branch of the Nestorean line,
+Sweet Polycaste, took the pleasing toil
+To bathe the prince, and pour the fragrant oil.
+O’er his fair limbs a flowery vest he threw,
+And issued, like a god, to mortal view.
+His former seat beside the king he found
+(His people’s father with his peers around);
+All placed at ease the holy banquet join,
+And in the dazzling goblet laughs the wine.
+
+The rage of thirst and hunger now suppress’d,
+The monarch turns him to his royal guest;
+And for the promised journey bids prepare
+The smooth hair’d horses, and the rapid car.
+Observant of his word, the word scarce spoke,
+The sons obey, and join them to the yoke.
+Then bread and wine a ready handmaid brings,
+And presents, such as suit the state of kings.
+The glittering seat Telemachus ascends;
+His faithful guide Pisistratus attends;
+With hasty hand the ruling reins he drew;
+He lash’d the coursers, and the coursers flew.
+Beneath the bounding yoke alike they hold
+Their equal pace, and smoked along the field.
+The towers of Pylos sink, its views decay,
+Fields after fields fly back, till close of day;
+Then sunk the sun, and darken’d all the way.
+
+To Pherae now, Diocleus’ stately seat
+(Of Alpheus’ race), the weary youths retreat.
+His house affords the hospitable rite,
+And pleased they sleep (the blessing of the night).
+But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
+With rosy lustre purpled o’er the lawn,
+Again they mount, their journey to renew,
+And from the sounding portico they flew.
+Along the waving fields their way they hold
+The fields receding as their chariot roll’d;
+Then slowly sunk the ruddy globe of light,
+And o’er the shaded landscape rush’d the night.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK IV.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE CONFERENCE WITH MENELAUS.
+
+
+Telemachus with Pisistratus arriving at Sparta, is hospitably received
+by Menelaus to whom he relates the cause of his coming, and learns from
+him many particulars of what befell the Greeks since the destruction of
+Troy. He dwells more at large upon the prophecies of Proteus to him in
+his return; from which he acquaints Telemachus that Ulysses is detained
+in the island of Calypso.
+    In the meantime the suitors consult to destroy Telemachus on the
+    voyage home. Penelope is apprised of this; but comforted in a dream
+    by Pallas, in the shape of her sister Iphthima.
+
+
+And now proud Sparta with their wheels resounds,
+Sparta whose walls a range of hills surrounds;
+At the fair dome the rapid labour ends;
+Where sate Atrides ’midst his bridal friends,
+With double vows invoking Hymen’s power,
+To bless his son’s and daughter’s nuptial hour.
+
+That day, to great Achilles’ son resign’d,
+Hermione, the fairest of her kind,
+Was sent to crown the long-protracted joy,
+Espoused before the final doom of Troy;
+With steeds and gilded cars, a gorgeous train
+Attend the nymphs to Phthia’s distant reign.
+Meanwhile at home, to Megapenthe’s bed
+The virgin choir Alector’s daughter led.
+Brave Megapenthes from a stolen amour
+To great Atrides’ age his handmaid bore;
+To Helen’s bed the gods alone assign
+Hermione, to extend the regal line;
+On whom a radiant pomp of Graces wait,
+Resembling Venus in attractive state.
+
+While this gay friendly troop the king surround,
+With festival and mirth the roofs resound;
+A bard amid the joyous circle sings
+High airs attemper’d to the vocal strings;
+Whilst warbling to the varied strain, advance
+Two sprightly youths to form the bounding dance,
+’Twas then, that issuing through the palace gate,
+The splendid car roll’d slow in regal state:
+On the bright eminence young Nestor shone,
+And fast beside him great Ulysses’ son;
+Grave Eteoneus saw the pomp appear,
+And speeding, thus address’d the royal ear;
+
+“Two youths approach, whose semblant features prove
+Their blood devolving from the source of Jove
+Is due reception deign’d, or must they bend
+Their doubtful course to seek a distant friend?”
+
+“Insensate! (with a sigh the king replies,)
+Too long, misjudging, have I thought thee wise
+But sure relentless folly steels thy breast,
+Obdurate to reject the stranger-guest;
+To those dear hospitable rites a foe,
+Which in my wanderings oft relieved my woe;
+Fed by the bounty of another’s board,
+Till pitying Jove my native realm restored—
+Straight be the coursers from the car released,
+Conduct the youths to grace the genial feast.”
+
+The seneschal, rebuked, in haste withdrew;
+With equal haste a menial train pursue:
+Part led the coursers, from the car enlarged,
+Each to a crib with choicest grain surcharged;
+Part in a portico, profusely graced
+With rich magnificence, the chariot placed;
+Then to the dome the friendly pair invite,
+Who eye the dazzling roofs with vast delight;
+Resplendent as the blaze of summer noon,
+Or the pale radiance of the midnight moon.
+From room to room their eager view they bend
+Thence to the bath, a beauteous pile, descend;
+Where a bright damsel train attends the guests
+With liquid odours, and embroider’d vests.
+Refresh’d, they wait them to the bower of state,
+Where, circled with his peers, Atrides sate;
+Throned next the king, a fair attendant brings
+The purest product of the crystal springs;
+High on a massy vase of silver mould,
+The burnish’d laver flames with solid gold,
+In solid gold the purple vintage flows,
+And on the board a second banquet rose.
+When thus the king, with hospitable port;
+“Accept this welcome to the Spartan court:
+The waste of nature let the feast repair,
+Then your high lineage and your names declare;
+Say from what sceptred ancestry ye claim,
+Recorded eminent in deathless fame,
+For vulgar parents cannot stamp their race
+With signatures of such majestic grace.”
+
+Ceasing, benevolent he straight assigns
+The royal portion of the choicest chines
+To each accepted friend; with grateful haste
+They share the honours of the rich repast.
+Sufficed, soft whispering thus to Nestor’s son,
+His head reclined, young Ithacus begun:
+
+“View’st thou unmoved, O ever-honour’d most!
+These prodigies of art, and wondrous cost!
+Above, beneath, around the palace shines
+The sunless treasure of exhausted mines;
+The spoils of elephants the roofs inlay,
+And studded amber darts the golden ray;
+Such, and not nobler, in the realms above
+My wonder dictates is the dome of Jove.”
+
+The monarch took the word, and grave replied:
+“Presumptuous are the vaunts, and vain the pride
+Of man, who dares in pomp with Jove contest,
+Unchanged, immortal, and supremely blest!
+With all my affluence, when my woes are weigh’d,
+Envy will own the purchase dearly paid.
+For eight slow-circling years, by tempests toss’d,
+From Cypress to the far Phoenician coast
+(Sidon the capital), I stretch’d my toil
+Through regions fatten’d with the flows of Nile.
+Next Aethiopia’s utmost bound explore,
+And the parch’d borders of the Arabian shore;
+Then warp my voyage on the southern gales,
+O’er the warm Lybian wave to spread my sails;
+That happy clime, where each revolving year
+The teeming ewes a triple offspring bear;
+And two fair crescents of translucent horn
+The brows of all their young increase adorn:
+The shepherd swains, with sure abundance blest,
+On the fat flock and rural dainties feast;
+Nor want of herbage makes the dairy fail,
+But every season fills the foaming pail.
+Whilst, heaping unwash’d wealth, I distant roam,
+The best of brothers, at his natal home,
+By the dire fury of a traitress wife,
+Ends the sad evening of a stormy life;
+Whence, with incessant grief my soul annoy’d,
+These riches are possess’d, but not enjoy’d!
+My wars, the copious theme of every tongue,
+To you your fathers have recorded long.
+How favouring Heaven repaid my glorious toils
+With a sack’d palace, and barbaric spoils.
+Oh! had the gods so large a boon denied
+And life, the just equivalent supplied
+To those brave warriors, who, with glory fired
+Far from their country, in my cause expired!
+Still in short intervals of pleasing woe.
+Regardful of the friendly dues I owe,
+I to the glorious dead, for ever dear!
+Indulge the tribute of a grateful tear.
+But oh! Ulysses—deeper than the rest
+That sad idea wounds my anxious breast!
+My heart bleeds fresh with agonizing pain;
+The bowl and tasteful viands tempt in vain;
+Nor sleep’s soft power can close my streaming eyes,
+When imaged to my soul his sorrows rise.
+No peril in my cause he ceased to prove,
+His labours equall’d only by my love:
+And both alike to bitter fortune born,
+For him to suffer, and for me to mourn!
+Whether he wanders on some friendly coast,
+Or glides in Stygian gloom a pensive ghost,
+No fame reveals; but, doubtful of his doom,
+His good old sire with sorrow to the tomb
+Declines his trembling steps; untimely care
+Withers the blooming vigour of his heir;
+And the chaste partner of his bed and throne
+Wastes all her widow’d hours in tender moan.”
+
+While thus pathetic to the prince he spoke,
+From the brave youth the streaming passion broke;
+Studious to veil the grief, in vain repress’d,
+His face he shrouded with his purple vest.
+The conscious monarch pierced the coy disguise,
+And view’d his filial love with vast surprise:
+Dubious to press the tender theme, or wait
+To hear the youth inquire his father’s fate.
+In this suspense bright Helen graced the room;
+Before her breathed a gale of rich perfume.
+So moves, adorn’d with each attractive grace,
+The silver shafted goddess of the chase!
+The seat of majesty Adraste brings,
+With art illustrious, for the pomp of kings;
+To spread the pall (beneath the regal chair)
+Of softest wool, is bright Alcippe’s care.
+A silver canister, divinely wrought,
+In her soft hands the beauteous Phylo brought;
+To Sparta’s queen of old the radiant vase
+Alcandra gave, a pledge of royal grace;
+For Polybus her lord (whose sovereign sway
+The wealthy tribes of Pharian Thebes obey),
+When to that court Atrides came, caress’d
+With vast munificence the imperial guest:
+Two lavers from the richest ore refined,
+With silver tripods, the kind host assign’d;
+And bounteous from the royal treasure told
+Ten equal talents of refulgent gold.
+Alcandra, consort of his high command,
+A golden distaff gave to Helen’s hand;
+And that rich vase, with living sculpture wrought,
+Which heap’d with wool the beauteous Phylo brought
+The silken fleece, impurpled for the loom,
+Rivall’d the hyacinth in vernal bloom.
+The sovereign seat then Jove born Helen press’d,
+And pleasing thus her sceptred lord address’d:
+
+“Who grace our palace now, that friendly pair,
+Speak they their lineage, or their names declare?
+Uncertain of the truth, yet uncontroll’d,
+Hear me the bodings of my breast unfold.
+With wonder wrapp’d on yonder check I trace
+The feature of the Ulyssean race:
+Diffused o’er each resembling line appear,
+In just similitude, the grace and air
+Of young Telemachus! the lovely boy,
+Who bless’d Ulysses with a father’s joy,
+What time the Greeks combined their social arms,
+To avenge the stain of my ill-fated charms!”
+
+“Just is thy thought, (the king assenting cries,)
+Methinks Ulysses strikes my wondering eyes;
+Full shines the father in the filial frame,
+His port, his features, and his shape the same;
+Such quick regards his sparkling eyes bestow;
+Such wavy ringlets o’er his shoulders flow
+And when he heard the long disastrous store
+Of cares, which in my cause Ulysses bore;
+Dismay’d, heart-wounded with paternal woes,
+Above restraint the tide of sorrow rose;
+Cautious to let the gushing grief appear,
+His purple garment veil’d the falling tear.”
+
+“See there confess’d (Pisistratus replies)
+The genuine worth of Ithacus the wise!
+Of that heroic sire the youth is sprung,
+But modest awe hath chain’d his timorous tongue.
+Thy voice, O king! with pleased attention heard,
+Is like the dictates of a god revered.
+With him, at Nestor’s high command, I came,
+Whose age I honour with a parent’s name.
+By adverse destiny constrained to sue
+For counsel and redress, he sues to you
+Whatever ill the friendless orphan bears,
+Bereaved of parents in his infant years,
+Still must the wrong’d Telemachus sustain,
+If, hopeful of your aid, he hopes in vain;
+Affianced in your friendly power alone,
+The youth would vindicate the vacant throne.”
+
+“Is Sparta blest, and these desiring eyes
+View my friend’s son? (the king exalting cries;)
+Son of my friend, by glorious toils approved,
+Whose sword was sacred to the man he loved;
+Mirror of constant faith, revered and mourn’d—
+When Troy was ruin’d, had the chief return’d,
+No Greek an equal space had ere possess’d,
+Of dear affection, in my grateful breast.
+I, to confirm the mutual joys we shared,
+For his abode a capital prepared;
+Argos, the seat of sovereign rule, I chose;
+Fair in the plan the future palace rose,
+Where my Ulysses and his race might reign,
+And portion to his tribes the wide domain,
+To them my vassals had resign’d a soil,
+With teeming plenty to reward their toil.
+There with commutual zeal we both had strove
+In acts of dear benevolence and love:
+Brothers in peace, not rivals in command,
+And death alone dissolved the friendly band!
+Some envious power the blissful scene destroys;
+Vanish’d are all the visionary joys;
+The soul of friendship to my hope is lost,
+Fated to wander from his natal coast!”
+
+He ceased; a gush of grief began to rise:
+Fast streams a tide from beauteous Helen’s eyes;
+Fast for the sire the filial sorrows flow;
+The weeping monarch swells the mighty woe;
+Thy cheeks, Pisistratus, the tears bedew,
+While pictured so thy mind appear’d in view,
+Thy martial brother; on the Phrygian plain
+Extended pale, by swarthy Memnon slain!
+But silence soon the son of Nestor broke,
+And melting with fraternal pity, spoke:
+
+“Frequent, O king, was Nestor wont to raise
+And charm attention with thy copious praise;
+To crowd thy various gifts, the sage assign’d
+The glory of a firm capacious mind;
+With that superior attribute control
+This unavailing impotence of soul,
+Let not your roof with echoing grief resound,
+Now for the feast the friendly bowl is crown’d;
+But when, from dewy shade emerging bright,
+Aurora streaks the sky with orient light,
+Let each deplore his dead; the rites of woe
+Are all, alas! the living can bestow;
+O’er the congenial dust enjoin’d to shear
+The graceful curl, and drop the tender tear.
+Then, mingling in the mournful pomp with you,
+I’ll pay my brother’s ghost a warrior’s due,
+And mourn the brave Antilochus, a name
+Not unrecorded in the rolls of fame;
+With strength and speed superior form’d, in fight
+To face the foe, or intercept his flight;
+Too early snatch’d by fate ere known to me!
+I boast a witness of his worth in thee.”
+
+“Young and mature! (the monarch thus rejoins,)
+In thee renew’d the soul of Nestor shines;
+Form’d by the care of that consummate sage,
+In early bloom an oracle of age.
+Whene’er his influence Jove vouchsafes to shower,
+To bless the natal and the nuptial hour;
+From the great sire transmissive to the race,
+The boon devolving gives distinguish’d grace.
+Such, happy Nestor! was thy glorious doom,
+Around thee, full of years, thy offspring bloom.
+Expert of arms, and prudent in debate;
+The gifts of Heaven to guard thy hoary state.
+But now let each becalm his troubled breast,
+Wash, and partake serene the friendly feast.
+To move thy suit, Telemachus, delay,
+Till heaven’s revolving lamp restores the day.”
+
+He said, Asphalion swift the laver brings;
+Alternate, all partake the grateful springs;
+Then from the rites of purity repair,
+And with keen gust the savoury viands share.
+Meantime, with genial joy to warm the soul,
+Bright Helen mix’d a mirth inspiring bowl;
+Temper’d with drugs of sovereign use, to assuage
+The boiling bosom of tumultuous rage;
+To clear the cloudy front of wrinkled Care,
+And dry the tearful sluices of Despair;
+Charm’d with that virtuous draught, the exalted mind
+All sense of woe delivers to the wind.
+Though on the blazing pile his parent lay,
+Or a loved brother groan’d his life away,
+Or darling son, oppress’d by ruffian force,
+Fell breathless at his feet, a mangled corse;
+From morn to eve, impassive and serene,
+The man entranced would view the dreadful scene.
+These drugs, so friendly to the joys of life,
+Bright Helen learn’d from Thone’s imperial wife;
+Who sway’d the sceptre, where prolific Nile
+With various simples clothes the fatten’d soil.
+With wholesome herbage mix’d, the direful bane
+Of vegetable venom taints the plain;
+From Paeon sprung, their patron-god imparts
+To all the Pharian race his healing arts.
+The beverage now prepared to inspire the feast,
+The circle thus the beauteous queen addressed:
+
+“Throned in omnipotence, supremest Jove
+Tempers the fates of human race above;
+By the firm sanction of his sovereign will,
+Alternate are decreed our good and ill.
+To feastful mirth be this white hour assign’d.
+And sweet discourse, the banquet of the mind
+Myself, assisting in the social joy,
+Will tell Ulysses’ bold exploit in Troy,
+Sole witness of the deed I now declare
+Speak you (who saw) his wonders in the war.
+
+“Seam’d o’er with wounds, which his own sabre gave,
+In the vile habit of a village slave,
+The foe deceived, he pass’d the tented plain,
+In Troy to mingle with the hostile train.
+In this attire secure from searching eyes,
+Till happily piercing through the dark disguise,
+The chief I challenged; he, whose practised wit
+Knew all the serpent mazes of deceit,
+Eludes my search; but when his form I view’d
+Fresh from the bath, with fragrant oils renew’d,
+His limbs in military purple dress’d,
+Each brightening grace the genuine Greek confess’d.
+A previous pledge of sacred faith obtain’d,
+Till he the lines and Argive fleet regain’d,
+To keep his stay conceal’d; the chief declared
+The plans of war against the town prepared.
+Exploring then the secrets of the state,
+He learn’d what best might urge the Dardan fate;
+And, safe returning to the Grecian host,
+Sent many a shade to Pluto’s dreary coast.
+Loud grief resounded through the towers of Troy,
+But my pleased bosom glow’d with secret joy:
+For then, with dire remorse and conscious shame
+I view’d the effects of that disastrous flame,
+Which, kindled by the imperious queen of love,
+Constrain’d me from my native realm to rove:
+And oft in bitterness of soul deplored
+My absent daughter and my dearer lord;
+Admired among the first of human race,
+For every gift of mind and manly grace.”
+
+“Right well (replied the king) your speech displays
+The matchless merit of the chief you praise:
+Heroes in various climes myself have found,
+For martial deeds and depth of thought renown’d;
+But Ithacus, unrivall’d in his claim,
+May boast a title to the loudest fame:
+In battle calm he guides the rapid storm,
+Wise to resolve, and patient to perform.
+What wondrous conduct in the chief appear’d,
+When the vast fabric of the steed we rear’d!
+Some demon, anxious for the Trojan doom,
+Urged you with great Deiphobus to come,
+To explore the fraud; with guile opposed to guile.
+Slow-pacing thrice around the insidious pile,
+Each noted leader’s name you thrice invoke,
+Your accent varying as their spouses spoke!
+The pleasing sounds each latent warrior warm’d,
+But most Tydides’ and my heart alarm’d:
+To quit the steed we both impatient press
+Threatening to answer from the dark recess.
+Unmoved the mind of Ithacus remain’d;
+And the vain ardours of our love restrain’d;
+But Anticlus, unable to control,
+Spoke loud the language of his yearning soul:
+Ulysses straight, with indignation fired
+(For so the common care of Greece required),
+Firm to his lips his forceful hands applied,
+Till on his tongue the fluttering murmurs died.
+Meantime Minerva, from the fraudful horse,
+Back to the court of Priam bent your course.”
+
+“Inclement fate! (Telemachus replies,)
+Frail is the boasted attribute of wise:
+The leader mingling with the vulgar host,
+Is in the common mass of matter lost!
+But now let sleep the painful waste repair
+Of sad reflection and corroding care.”
+He ceased; the menial fair that round her wait,
+At Helen’s beck prepare the room of state;
+Beneath an ample portico they spread
+The downy fleece to form the slumberous bed;
+And o’er soft palls of purple grain unfold
+Rich tapestry, stiff with interwoven gold:
+Then, through the illumined dome, to balmy rest
+The obsequious herald guides each princely guest;
+While to his regal bower the king ascends,
+And beauteous Helen on her lord attends.
+Soon as the morn, in orient purple dress’d,
+Unbarr’d the portal of the roseate east,
+The monarch rose; magnificent to view,
+The imperial mantle o’er his vest he threw;
+The glittering zone athwart his shoulders cast,
+A starry falchion low-depending graced;
+Clasp’d on his feet the embroidered sandals shine;
+And forth he moves, majestic and divine,
+Instant to young Telemachus he press’d;
+And thus benevolent his speech addressed:
+
+“Say, royal youth, sincere of soul report
+Whit cause hath led you to the Spartan court?
+Do public or domestic care constrain
+This toilsome voyage o’er the surgy main?”
+
+“O highly-favour’d delegate of Jove!
+(Replies the prince) inflamed with filial love,
+And anxious hope, to hear my parent’s doom,
+A suppliant to your royal court I come:
+Our sovereign seat a lewd usurping race
+With lawless riot and misrule disgrace;
+To pamper’d insolence devoted fall
+Prime of the flock, and choicest of the stall:
+For wild ambition wings their bold desire,
+And all to mount the imperial bed aspire.
+But prostrate I implore, O king! relate
+The mournful series of my father’s fate:
+Each known disaster of the man disclose,
+Born by his mother to a world of woes!
+Recite them; nor in erring pity fear
+To wound with storied grief the filial ear.
+If e’er Ulysses, to reclaim your right,
+Avow’d his zeal in council or in fight,
+If Phrygian camps the friendly toils attest,
+To the sire’s merit give the son’s request.”
+
+Deep from his inmost soul Atrides sigh’d,
+And thus, indignant, to the prince replied:
+“Heavens! would a soft, inglorious, dastard train
+An absent hero’s nuptial joys profane!
+So with her young, amid the woodland shades,
+A timorous hind the lion’s court invades,
+Leaves in the fatal lair the tender fawns,
+Climbs the green cliff, or feeds the flowery lawns:
+Meantime return’d, with dire remorseless sway,
+The monarch-savage rends the trembling prey.
+With equal fury, and with equal fame,
+Ulysses soon shall reassert his claim.
+O Jove supreme, whom gods and men revere!
+And thou! to whom ’tis given to gild the sphere!
+With power congenial join’d, propitious aid
+The chief adopted by the martial maid!
+Such to our wish the warrior soon restore,
+As when contending on the Lesbian shore
+His prowess Philomelidies confess’d,
+And loud-acclaiming Greeks the victor bless’d;
+Then soon the invaders of his bed and throne
+Their love presumptuous shall with life atone.
+With patient ear, O royal youth, attend
+The storied labour of thy father’s friend:
+Fruitful of deeds, the copious tale is long,
+But truth severe shall dictate to my tongue:
+Learn what I heard the sea-born seer relate,
+Whose eye can pierce the dark recess of fate.
+
+“Long on the Egyptian coast by calms confined,
+Heaven to my fleet refused a prosperous wind;
+No vows had we preferr’d, nor victims slain!
+For this the gods each favouring gale restrain
+Jealous, to see their high behests obey’d;
+Severe, if men the eternal rights evade.
+High o’er a gulfy sea, the Pharian isle
+Fronts the deep roar of disemboguing Nile:
+Her distance from the shore, the course begun
+At dawn, and ending with the setting sun,
+A galley measures; when the stiffer gales
+Rise on the poop, and fully stretch the sails.
+There, anchor’d vessels safe in harbour lie,
+Whilst limpid springs the failing cask supply.
+
+“And now the twentieth sun, descending, laves
+His glowing axle in the western waves:
+Still with expanded sails we court in vain
+Propitious winds to waft us o’er the main;
+And the pale mariner at once deplores
+His drooping vigour and exhausted stores.
+When lo! a bright cerulean form appears,
+Proteus her sire divine. With pity press’d,
+Me sole the daughter of the deep address’d;
+What time, with hunger pined, my absent mates
+Roam the wide isle in search of rural cates,
+Bait the barb’d steel, and from the fishy flood
+Appease the afflictive fierce desire of food.”
+
+“‘Whoe’er thou art (the azure goddess cries)
+Thy conduct ill-deserves the praise of wise:
+Is death thy choice, or misery thy boast,
+That here inglorious, on a barren coast,
+Thy brave associates droop, a meagre train,
+With famine pale, and ask thy care in vain?’
+“Struck with the loud reproach, I straight reply:
+‘Whate’er thy title in thy native sky,
+A goddess sure! for more than moral grace
+Speaks thee descendant of ethereal race;
+Deem not that here of choice my fleet remains;
+Some heavenly power averse my stay constrains:
+O, piteous of my fate, vouchsafe to show
+(For what’s sequester’d from celestial view?)
+What power becalms the innavigable seas?
+What guilt provokes him, and what vows appease?’
+
+“I ceased, when affable the goddess cried:
+‘Observe, and in the truths I speak confide;
+The oracular seer frequents the Pharian coast,
+From whose high bed my birth divine I boast;
+Proteus, a name tremendous o’er the main,
+The delegate of Neptune’s watery reign.
+Watch with insidious care his known abode;
+There fast in chains constrain the various god;
+Who bound, obedient to superior force,
+Unerring will prescribe your destined course.
+If, studious on your realms, you then demand
+Their state, since last you left your natal land,
+Instant the god obsequious will disclose
+Bright tracts of glory or a cloud of woes.’
+
+“She ceased; and suppliant thus I made reply:
+‘O goddess! on thy aid my hopes rely;
+Dictate propitious to my duteous ear,
+What arts can captivate the changeful seer;
+For perilous the assay, unheard the toil,
+To elude the prescience of a god by guile.’
+
+“Thus to the goddess mild my suit I end.
+Then she: ‘Obedient to my rule attend:
+When through the zone of heaven the mounted sun
+Hath journeyed half, and half remains to run;
+The seer, while zephyrs curl the swelling deep,
+Basks on the breezy shore, in grateful sleep,
+His oozy limbs. Emerging from the wave,
+The Phocas swift surround his rocky cave,
+Frequent and full; the consecrated train
+Of her, whose azure trident awes the main;
+There wallowing warm, the enormous herd exhales
+An oily steam, and taints the noontide gales.
+To that recess, commodious for surprise,
+When purple light shall next suffuse the skies,
+With me repair; and from thy warrior-band
+Three chosen chiefs of dauntless soul command;
+Let their auxiliar force befriend the toil;
+For strong the god, and perfected in guile.
+Stretch’d on the shelly shore, he first surveys
+The flouncing herd ascending from the seas;
+Their number summ’d, reposed in sleep profound
+The scaly charge their guardian god surround;
+So with his battening flocks the careful swain
+Abides pavilion’d on the grassy plain.
+With powers united, obstinately bold,
+Invade him, couch’d amid the scaly fold;
+Instant he wears, elusive of the rape,
+The mimic force of every savage shape;
+Or glides with liquid lapse a murmuring stream,
+Or, wrapp’d in flame, he glows at every limb.
+Yet, still retentive, with redoubled might,
+Through each vain passive form constrain his flight
+But when, his native shape renamed, he stands
+Patient of conquest, and your cause demands;
+The cause that urged the bold attempt declare,
+And soothe the vanquish’d with a victor’s prayer.
+The bands releas’d, implore the seer to say
+What godhead interdicts the watery way.
+Who, straight propitious, in prophetic strain
+Will teach you to repass the unmeasured main.’
+She ceased, and bounding from the shelfy shore,
+Round the descending nymph the waves resounding roar.
+
+“High wrapp’d in wonder of the future deed,
+with joy impetuous to the port I speed:
+The wants of nature with repast suffice,
+Till night with grateful shade involved the skies,
+And shed ambrosial dews. Fast by the deep,
+Along the tented shore, in balmy sleep,
+Our cares were lost. When o’er the eastern lawn,
+In saffron robes, the daughter of the dawn
+Advanced her rosy steps, before the bay
+Due ritual honours to the gods I pay;
+Then seek the place the sea-born nymph assign’d,
+With three associates of undaunted mind.
+Arrived, to form along the appointed strand
+For each a bed, she scoops the hilly sand;
+Then, from her azure cave the finny spoils
+Of four vast Phocae takes, to veil her wiles;
+Beneath the finny spoils extended prone,
+Hard toil! the prophet’s piercing eye to shun;
+New from the corse, the scaly frauds diffuse
+Unsavoury stench of oil, and brackish ooze;
+But the bright sea-maid’s gentle power implored,
+With nectar’d drops the sickening sense restored.
+
+“Thus till the sun had travell’d half the skies,
+Ambush’d we lie, and wait the bold emprise;
+When, thronging quick to bask in open air,
+The flocks of ocean to the strand repair;
+Couch’d on the sunny sand, the monsters sleep;
+Then Proteus, mounting from the hoary deep,
+Surveys his charge, unknowing of deceit;
+(In order told, we make the sum complete.)
+Pleased with the false review, secure he lies,
+And leaden slumbers press his drooping eyes.
+Rushing impetuous forth, we straight prepare
+A furious onset with the sound of war,
+And shouting seize the god; our force to evade,
+His various arts he soon resumes in aid;
+A lion now, he curls a surgy mane;
+Sudden our hands a spotted pard restrain;
+Then, arm’d with tusks, and lightning in his eyes,
+A boar’s obscener shape the god belies;
+On spiry volumes, there a dragon rides;
+Here, from our strict embrace a stream he glides.
+At last, sublime, his stately growth he rears
+A tree, and well-dissembled foliage wears.
+Vain efforts with superior power compress’d,
+Me with reluctance thus the seer address’d;
+‘Say, son of Atreus, say what god inspired
+This daring fraud, and what the boon desired?’
+I thus: ‘O thou, whose certain eye foresees
+The fix’d event of fate’s remote decrees;
+After long woes, and various toil endured,
+Still on this desert isle my fleet is moor’d,
+Unfriended of the gales. All-knowing, say,
+What godhead interdicts the watery way?
+What vows repentant will the power appease,
+To speed a prosperous voyage o’er the seas.’
+
+“‘To Jove (with stern regard the god replies)
+And all the offended synod of the skies,
+Just hecatombs with due devotion slain,
+Thy guilt absolved, a prosperous voyage gain.
+To the firm sanction of thy fate attend!
+An exile thou, nor cheering face of friend,
+Nor sight of natal shore, nor regal dome,
+Shalt yet enjoy, but still art doom’d to roam.
+Once more the Nile, who from the secret source
+Of Jove’s high seat descends with sweepy force,
+Must view his billows white beneath thy oar,
+And altars blaze along his sanguine shore.
+Then will the gods with holy pomp adored,
+To thy long vows a safe return accord.’
+
+“He ceased: heart wounded with afflictive pain,
+(Doom’d to repeat the perils of the main,
+A shelfy track and long!) ‘O seer’ I cry,
+‘To the stern sanction of the offended sky
+My prompt obedience bows. But deign to say
+What fate propitious, or what dire dismay,
+Sustain those peers, the relics of our host,
+Whom I with Nestor on the Phrygian coast
+Embracing left? Must I the warriors weep,
+Whelm’d in the bottom of the monstrous deep?
+Or did the kind domestic friend deplore
+The breathless heroes on their native shore?
+
+“‘Press not too far,’ replied the god: ‘but cease
+To know what, known, will violate thy peace;
+Too curious of their doom! with friendly woe
+Thy breast will heave, and tears eternal flow.
+Part live! the rest, a lamentable train!
+Range the dark bounds of Pluto’s dreary reign.
+Two, foremost in the roll of Mars renown’d,
+Whose arms with conquest in thy cause were crown’d,
+Fell by disastrous fate: by tempests toss’d,
+A third lives wretched on a distant coast.
+
+“By Neptune rescued from Minerva’s hate,
+On Gyrae, safe Oilean Ajax sate,
+His ship o’erwhelm’d; but, frowning on the floods,
+Impious he roar’d defiance to the gods;
+To his own prowess all the glory gave:
+The power defrauding who vouchsafed to save.
+This heard the raging ruler of the main;
+His spear, indignant for such high disdain,
+He launched; dividing with his forky mace
+The aërial summit from the marble base:
+The rock rush’d seaward, with impetuous roar
+Ingulf’d, and to the abyss the boaster bore.
+
+“By Juno’s guardian aid, the watery vast,
+Secure of storms, your royal brother pass’d,
+Till, coasting nigh the cape where Malen shrouds
+Her spiry cliffs amid surrounding clouds,
+A whirling gust tumultuous from the shore
+Across the deep his labouring vessel bore.
+In an ill-fated hour the coast he gain’d,
+Where late in regal pomp Thyestes reigned;
+But, when his hoary honours bow’d to fate,
+Ægysthus govern’d in paternal state,
+The surges now subside, the tempest ends;
+From his tall ship the king of men descends;
+There fondly thinks the gods conclude his toil:
+Far from his own domain salutes the soil;
+With rapture oft the verge of Greece reviews,
+And the dear turf with tears of joy bedews.
+Him, thus exulting on the distant stand,
+A spy distinguish’d from his airy stand;
+To bribe whose vigilance, Ægysthus told
+A mighty sum of ill-persuading gold:
+There watch’d this guardian of his guilty fear,
+Till the twelfth moon had wheel’d her pale career;
+And now, admonish’d by his eye, to court
+With terror wing’d conveys the dread report.
+Of deathful arts expert, his lord employs
+The ministers of blood in dark surprise;
+And twenty youths, in radiant mail incased,
+Close ambush’d nigh the spacious hall he placed.
+Then bids prepare the hospitable treat:
+Vain shows of love to veil his felon hate!
+To grace the victor’s welcome from the wars,
+A train of coursers and triumphal cars
+Magnificent he leads: the royal guest,
+Thoughtless of ill, accepts the fraudful feast.
+The troop forth-issuing from the dark recess,
+With homicidal rage the king oppress!
+So, whilst he feeds luxurious in the stall,
+The sovereign of the herd is doomed to fall,
+The partners of his fame and toils at Troy,
+Around their lord, a mighty ruin, lie:
+Mix’d with the brave, the base invaders bleed;
+Ægysthus sole survives to boast the deed.’
+
+“He said: chill horrors shook my shivering soul,
+Rack’d with convulsive pangs in dust I roll;
+And hate, in madness of extreme despair,
+To view the sun, or breathe the vital air.
+But when, superior to the rage of woe,
+I stood restored and tears had ceased to flow,
+Lenient of grief the pitying god began:
+‘Forget the brother, and resume the man.
+To Fate’s supreme dispose the dead resign,
+That care be Fate’s, a speedy passage thine
+Still lives the wretch who wrought the death deplored,
+But lives a victim for thy vengeful sword;
+Unless with filial rage Orestes glow,
+And swift prevent the meditated blow:
+You timely will return a welcome guest,
+With him to share the sad funereal feast.’
+
+“He said: new thoughts my beating heart employ,
+My gloomy soul receives a gleam of joy.
+Fair hope revives; and eager I address’d
+The prescient godhead to reveal the rest:
+‘The doom decreed of those disastrous two
+I’ve heard with pain, but oh! the tale pursue;
+What third brave son of Mars the Fates constrain
+To roam the howling desert of the main;
+Or, in eternal shade of cold he lies,
+Provoke new sorrows from these grateful eyes.’
+
+“‘That chief (rejoin’d the god) his race derives
+From Ithaca, and wondrous woes survives;
+Laertes’ son: girt with circumfluous tides,
+He still calamitous constraint abides.
+Him in Calypso’s cave of late I view’d,
+When streaming grief his faded cheek bedow’d.
+But vain his prayer, his arts are vain, to move
+The enamour’d goddess, or elude her love:
+His vessel sunk, and dear companions lost,
+He lives reluctant on a foreign coast.
+But oh, beloved by Heaven! reserved to thee
+A happier lot the smiling Fates decree:
+Free from that law, beneath whose mortal sway
+Matter is changed, and varying forms decay,
+Elysium shall be thine: the blissful plains
+Of utmost earth, where Rhadamanthus reigns.
+Joys ever young, unmix’d with pain or fear,
+Fill the wide circle of the eternal year:
+Stern winter smiles on that auspicious clime:
+The fields are florid with unfading prime;
+From the bleak pole no winds inclement blow,
+Mould the round hail, or flake the fleecy snow;
+But from the breezy deep the blest inhale
+The fragrant murmurs of the western gale.
+This grace peculiar will the gods afford
+To thee, the son of Jove, and beauteous Helen’s lord.’
+
+“He ceased, and plunging in the vast profound,
+Beneath the god and whirling billows bound.
+Then speeding back, involved in various thought,
+My friends attending at the shore I sought,
+Arrived, the rage of hunger we control
+Till night with silent shade invests the pole;
+Then lose the cares of life in pleasing rest.
+Soon as the morn reveals the roseate east,
+With sails we wing the masts, our anchors weigh,
+Unmoor the fleet, and rush into the sea.
+Ranged on the banks, beneath our equal oars
+White curl the waves, and the vex’d ocean roars
+Then, steering backward from the Pharian isle,
+We gain the stream of Jove-descended Nile;
+There quit the ships, and on the destined shore
+With ritual hecatombs the gods adore;
+Their wrath atoned, to Agamemnon’s name
+A cenotaph I raise of deathless fame.
+These rites to piety and grief discharged,
+The friendly gods a springing gale enlarged;
+The fleet swift tilting o’er the surges flew,
+Till Grecian cliffs appear’d a blissful view!
+
+“Thy patient ear hath heard me long relate
+A story, fruitful of disastrous fate.
+And now, young prince, indulge my fond request;
+Be Sparta honoured with his royal guest,
+Till, from his eastern goal, the joyous sun
+His twelfth diurnal race begins to run.
+Meantime my train the friendly gifts prepare,
+The sprightly coursers and a polish’d car;
+With these a goblet of capacious mould,
+Figured with art to dignify the gold
+(Form’d for libation to the gods), shall prove
+A pledge and monument of sacred love.”
+
+“My quick return (young Ithacus rejoin’d),
+Damps the warm wishes of my raptured mind;
+Did not my fate my needful haste constrain,
+Charm’d by your speech so graceful and humane,
+Lost in delight the circling year would roll,
+While deep attention fix’d my listening soul.
+But now to Pyle permit my destined way,
+My loved associates chide my long delay:
+In dear remembrance of your royal grace,
+I take the present of the promised vase;
+The coursers, for the champaign sports retain;
+That gift our barren rocks will render vain:
+Horrid with cliffs, our meagre land allows
+Thin herbage for the mountain goat to browse,
+But neither mead nor plain supplies, to feed
+The sprightly courser, or indulge his speed:
+To sea-surrounded realms the gods assign
+Small tract of fertile lawn, the least to mine.”
+
+His hand the king with tender passion press’d,
+And, smiling, thus the royal youth address’d:
+“O early worth! a soul so wise, and young,
+Proclaims you from the sage Ulysses sprung.
+Selected from my stores, of matchless price,
+An urn shall recompense your prudent choice;
+By Vulcan’s art, the verge with gold enchased.
+A pledge the sceptred power of Sidon gave,
+When to his realm I plough’d the orient wave.”
+
+Thus they alternate; while, with artful care,
+The menial train the regal feast prepare.
+The firstlings of the flock are doom’d to die:
+Rich fragrant wines the cheering bowl supply;
+A female band the gift of Ceres bring;
+And the gilt roofs with genial triumph ring.
+
+Meanwhile, in Ithaca, the suitor powers
+In active games divide their jovial hours;
+In areas varied with mosaic art,
+Some whirl the disk, and some the javelin dart,
+Aside, sequester’d from the vast resort,
+Antinous sole spectator of the sport;
+With great Eurymachus, of worth confess’d,
+And high descent, superior to the rest;
+Whom young Noëmon lowly thus address’d:—
+
+“My ship, equipp’d within the neighboring port,
+The prince, departing for the Pylian court,
+Requested for his speed; but, courteous, say
+When steers he home, or why this long delay?
+For Elis I should sail with utmost speed,
+To import twelve mares which there luxurious feed,
+And twelve young mules, a strong laborious race,
+New to the plow, unpractised in the trace.”
+
+Unknowing of the course to Pyle design’d,
+A sudden horror seized on either mind;
+The prince in rural bower they fondly thought,
+Numbering his flocks and herds, not far remote.
+“Relate (Antinous cries), devoid of guile,
+When spread the prince his sale for distant Pyle?
+Did chosen chiefs across the gulfy main
+Attend his voyage, or domestic train?
+Spontaneous did you speed his secret course,
+Or was the vessel seized by fraud or force?”
+
+“With willing duty, not reluctant mind
+(Noëmon cried), the vessel was resign’d,
+Who, in the balance, with the great affairs
+Of courts presume to weigh their private cares?
+With him, the peerage next in power to you;
+And Mentor, captain of the lordly crew,
+Or some celestial in his reverend form,
+Safe from the secret rock and adverse storm,
+Pilots the course; for when the glimmering ray
+Of yester dawn disclosed the tender day,
+Mentor himself I saw, and much admired,”
+Then ceased the youth, and from the court retired.
+
+Confounded and appall’d, the unfinish’d game
+The suitors quit, and all to council came.
+Antinous first the assembled peers address’d.
+Rage sparkling in his eyes, and burning in his breast
+
+“O shame to manhood! shall one daring boy
+The scheme of all our happiness destroy?
+Fly unperceived, seducing half the flower
+Of nobles, and invite a foreign power?
+The ponderous engine raised to crush us all,
+Recoiling, on his head is sure to fall.
+Instant prepare me, on the neighbouring strand,
+With twenty chosen mates a vessel mann’d;
+For ambush’d close beneath the Samian shore
+His ship returning shall my spies explore;
+He soon his rashness shall with life atone,
+Seek for his father’s fate, but find his own.”
+
+With vast applause the sentence all approve;
+Then rise, and to the feastful hall remove;
+Swift to the queen the herald Medon ran,
+Who heard the consult of the dire divan:
+Before her dome the royal matron stands,
+And thus the message of his haste demands;
+
+“What will the suitors? must my servant-train
+The allotted labours of the day refrain,
+For them to form some exquisite repast?
+Heaven grant this festival may prove their last!
+Or, if they still must live, from me remove
+The double plague of luxury and love!
+Forbear, ye sons of insolence! forbear,
+In riot to consume a wretched heir.
+In the young soul illustrious thought to raise,
+Were ye not tutor’d with Ulysses’ praise?
+Have not your fathers oft my lord defined,
+Gentle of speech, beneficent of mind?
+Some kings with arbitrary rage devour,
+Or in their tyrant-minions vest the power;
+Ulysses let no partial favours fall,
+The people’s parent, he protected all;
+But absent now, perfidious and ingrate!
+His stores ye ravage, and usurp his state.”
+
+He thus: “O were the woes you speak the worst!
+They form a deed more odious and accursed;
+More dreadful than your boding soul divines;
+But pitying Jove avert the dire designs!
+The darling object of your royal care
+Is marked to perish in a deathful snare;
+Before he anchors in his native port,
+From Pyle re-sailing and the Spartan court;
+Horrid to speak! in ambush is decreed
+The hope and heir of Ithaca to bleed!”
+
+Sudden she sunk beneath the weighty woes,
+The vital streams a chilling horror froze;
+The big round tear stands trembling in her eye,
+And on her tongue imperfect accents die.
+At length in tender language interwove
+With sighs, she thus expressed her anxious love;
+“Why rarely would my son his fate explore,
+Ride the wild waves, and quit the safer shore?
+Did he with all the greatly wretched, crave
+A blank oblivion, and untimely grave?”
+
+“Tis not (replied the sage) to Medon given
+To know, if some inhabitant of heaven
+In his young breast the daring thought inspired
+Or if, alone with filial duty fired,
+The winds and waves he tempts in early bloom,
+Studious to learn his absent father’s doom.”
+
+The sage retired: unable to control
+The mighty griefs that swell her labouring soul
+Rolling convulsive on the floor is seen
+The piteous object of a prostrate queen.
+Words to her dumb complaint a pause supplies,
+And breath, to waste in unavailing cries.
+Around their sovereign wept the menial fair,
+To whom she thus address’d her deep despair:
+
+“Behold a wretch whom all the gods consign
+To woe! Did ever sorrows equal mine?
+Long to my joys my dearest lord is lost,
+His country’s buckler, and the Grecian boast;
+Now from my fond embrace, by tempests torn,
+Our other column of the state is borne;
+Nor took a kind adieu, nor sought consent!—
+Unkind confederates in his dire intent!
+Ill suits it with your shows of duteous zeal,
+From me the purposed voyage to conceal;
+Though at the solemn midnight hour he rose,
+Why did you fear to trouble my repose?
+He either had obey’d my fond desire,
+Or seen his mother pierced with grief expire.
+Bid Dolius quick attend, the faithful slave
+Whom to my nuptial train Icarius gave
+To tend the fruit groves: with incessant speed
+He shall this violence of death decreed
+To good Laertes tell. Experienced age
+May timely intercept the ruffian rage.
+Convene the tribes the murderous plot reveal,
+And to their power to save his race appeal.”
+
+Then Euryclea thus: “My dearest dread;
+Though to the sword I bow this hoary head,
+Or if a dungeon be the pain decreed,
+I own me conscious of the unpleasing deed;
+Auxiliar to his flight, my aid implored,
+With wine and viands I the vessel stored;
+A solemn oath, imposed, the secret seal’d,
+Till the twelfth dawn the light of day reveal’d.
+Dreading the effect of a fond mother’s fear,
+He dared not violate your royal ear.
+But bathe, and, in imperial robes array’d,
+Pay due devotions to the martial maid,
+And rest affianced in her guardian aid.
+Send not to good Laertes, nor engage
+In toils of state the miseries of age:
+Tis impious to surmise the powers divine
+To ruin doom the Jove-descended line;
+Long shall the race of just Arcesius reign,
+And isles remote enlarge his old domain.”
+
+The queen her speech with calm attention hears,
+Her eyes restrain the silver-streaming tears:
+She bathes, and robed, the sacred dome ascends;
+Her pious speed a female train attends:
+The salted cakes in canisters are laid,
+And thus the queen invokes Minerva’s aid;
+
+“Daughter divine of Jove, whose arm can wield
+The avenging bolt, and shake the dreadful shield
+If e’er Ulysses to thy fane preferr’d
+The best and choicest of his flock and herd;
+Hear, goddess, hear, by those oblations won;
+And for the pious sire preserve the son;
+His wish’d return with happy power befriend,
+And on the suitors let thy wrath descend.”
+
+She ceased; shrill ecstasies of joy declare
+The favouring goddess present to the prayer;
+The suitors heard, and deem’d the mirthful voice
+A signal of her hymeneal choice;
+Whilst one most jovial thus accosts the board:
+
+“Too late the queen selects a second lord;
+In evil hour the nuptial rite intends,
+When o’er her son disastrous death impends.”
+Thus he, unskill’d of what the fates provide!
+But with severe rebuke Antinous cried:
+
+“These empty vaunts will make the voyage vain:
+Alarm not with discourse the menial train:
+The great event with silent hope attend,
+Our deeds alone our counsel must commend.”
+His speech thus ended short, he frowning rose,
+And twenty chiefs renowned for valour chose;
+Down to the strand he speeds with haughty strides,
+Where anchor’d in the bay the vessel rides,
+Replete with mail and military store,
+In all her tackle trim to quit the shore.
+The desperate crew ascend, unfurl the sails
+(The seaward prow invites the tardy gales);
+Then take repast till Hesperus display’d
+His golden circlet, in the western shade.
+
+Meantime the queen, without reflection due,
+Heart-wounded, to the bed of state withdrew:
+In her sad breast the prince’s fortunes roll,
+And hope and doubt alternate seize her soul.
+So when the woodman’s toil her cave surrounds,
+And with the hunter’s cry the grove resounds,
+With grief and rage the mother-lion stung,
+Fearless herself, yet trembles for her young,
+While pensive in the silent slumberous shade,
+Sleep’s gentle powers her drooping eyes invade;
+Minerva, life-like, on embodied air
+Impress’d the form of Iphthima the fair;
+(Icarius’ daughter she, whose blooming charms
+Allured Eumelus to her virgin arms;
+A sceptred lord, who o’er the fruitful plain
+Of Thessaly wide stretched his ample reign:)
+As Pallas will’d, along the sable skies,
+To calm the queen, the phantom sister flies.
+Swift on the regal dome, descending right,
+The bolted valves are pervious to her flight.
+Close to her head the pleasing vision stands,
+And thus performs Minerva’s high commands
+
+“O why, Penelope, this causeless fear,
+To render sleep’s soft blessing unsincere?
+Alike devote to sorrow’s dire extreme
+The day-reflection, and the midnight-dream!
+Thy son the gods propitious will restore,
+And bid thee cease his absence to deplore.”
+
+To whom the queen (whilst yet in pensive mind
+Was in the silent gates of sleep confined):
+“O sister to my soul forever dear,
+Why this first visit to reprove my fear?
+How in a realm so distant should you know
+From what deep source my ceaseless sorrows flow?
+To all my hope my royal lord is lost,
+His country’s buckler, and the Grecian boast;
+And with consummate woe to weigh me down,
+The heir of all his honours and his crown,
+My darling son is fled! an easy prey
+To the fierce storms, or men more fierce than they;
+Who, in a league of blood associates sworn,
+Will intercept the unwary youth’s return.”
+
+“Courage resume (the shadowy form replied);
+In the protecting care of Heaven confide;
+On him attends the blue eyed martial maid:
+What earthly can implore a surer aid?
+Me now the guardian goddess deigns to send,
+To bid thee patient his return attend.”
+
+The queen replies: “If in the blest abodes,
+A goddess, thou hast commerce with the gods;
+Say, breathes my lord the blissful realm of light,
+Or lies he wrapp’d in ever-during night?”
+
+“Inquire not of his doom, (the phantom cries,)
+I speak not all the counsel of the skies;
+Nor must indulge with vain discourse, or long,
+The windy satisfaction of the tongue.”
+
+Swift through the valves the visionary fair
+Repass’d, and viewless mix’d with common air.
+The queen awakes, deliver’d of her woes;
+With florid joy her heart dilating glows:
+The vision, manifest of future fate,
+Makes her with hope her son’s arrival wait.
+
+Meantime the suitors plough the watery plain,
+Telemachus in thought already slain!
+When sight of lessening Ithaca was lost
+Their sail directed for the Samian coast
+A small but verdant isle appear’d in view,
+And Asteris the advancing pilot knew;
+An ample port the rocks projected form,
+To break the rolling waves and ruffling storm:
+That safe recess they gain with happy speed,
+And in close ambush wait the murderous deed.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK V.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE DEPARTURE OF ULYSSES FROM CALYPSO
+
+
+Pallas in a council of the gods complains of the detention of Ulysses
+in the Island of Calypso: whereupon Mercury is sent to command his
+removal. The seat of Calypso described. She consents with much
+difficulty; and Ulysses builds a vessel with his own hands, in which he
+embarks. Neptune overtakes him with a terrible tempest, in which he is
+shipwrecked, and in the last danger of death; till Lencothea, a
+sea-goddess, assists him, and, after innumerable perils, he gets ashore
+on Phæacia.
+
+
+The saffron morn, with early blushes spread,
+Now rose refulgent from Tithonus’ bed;
+With new-born day to gladden mortal sight,
+And gild the courts of heaven with sacred light.
+Then met the eternal synod of the sky,
+Before the god, who thunders from on high,
+Supreme in might, sublime in majesty.
+Pallas, to these, deplores the unequal fates
+Of wise Ulysses and his toils relates:
+Her hero’s danger touch’d the pitying power,
+The nymph’s seducements, and the magic bower.
+Thus she began her plaint: “Immortal Jove!
+And you who fill the blissful seats above!
+Let kings no more with gentle mercy sway,
+Or bless a people willing to obey,
+But crush the nations with an iron rod,
+And every monarch be the scourge of God.
+If from your thoughts Ulysses you remove,
+Who ruled his subjects with a father’s love,
+Sole in an isle, encircled by the main,
+Abandon’d, banish’d from his native reign,
+Unbless’d he sighs, detained by lawless charms,
+And press’d unwilling in Calypso’s arms.
+Nor friends are there, nor vessels to convey,
+Nor oars to cut the immeasurable way.
+And now fierce traitors, studious to destroy
+His only son, their ambush’d fraud employ;
+Who, pious, following his great father’s fame,
+To sacred Pylos and to Sparta came.”
+
+“What words are these? (replied the power who forms
+The clouds of night, and darkens heaven with storms;)
+Is not already in thy soul decreed,
+The chief’s return shall make the guilty bleed?
+What cannot Wisdom do? Thou may’st restore
+The son in safety to his native shore;
+While the fell foes, who late in ambush lay,
+With fraud defeated measure back their way.”
+
+Then thus to Hermes the command was given:
+“Hermes, thou chosen messenger of heaven!
+Go, to the nymph be these our orders borne
+’Tis Jove’s decree, Ulysses shall return:
+The patient man shall view his old abodes,
+Nor helped by mortal hand, nor guiding gods
+In twice ten days shall fertile Scheria find,
+Alone, and floating to the wave and wind.
+The bold Phæacians there, whose haughty line
+Is mixed with gods, half human, half divine,
+The chief shall honour as some heavenly guest,
+And swift transport him to his place of rest,
+His vessels loaded with a plenteous store
+Of brass, of vestures, and resplendent ore
+(A richer prize than if his joyful isle
+Received him charged with Ilion’s noble spoil),
+His friends, his country, he shall see, though late:
+Such is our sovereign will, and such is fate.”
+
+He spoke. The god who mounts the winged winds
+Fast to his feet the golden pinions binds,
+That high through fields of air his flight sustain
+O’er the wide earth, and o’er the boundless main:
+He grasps the wand that causes sleep to fly,
+Or in soft slumber seals the wakeful eye;
+Then shoots from heaven to high Pieria’s steep,
+And stoops incumbent on the rolling deep.
+So watery fowl, that seek their fishy food,
+With wings expanded o’er the foaming flood,
+Now sailing smooth the level surface sweep,
+Now dip their pinions in the briny deep;
+Thus o’er the world of waters Hermes flew,
+Till now the distant island rose in view:
+Then, swift ascending from the azure wave,
+He took the path that winded to the cave.
+Large was the grot, in which the nymph he found
+(The fair-hair’d nymph with every beauty crown’d).
+The cave was brighten’d with a rising blaze;
+Cedar and frankincense, an odorous pile,
+Flamed on the hearth, and wide perfumed the isle;
+While she with work and song the time divides,
+And through the loom the golden shuttle guides.
+Without the grot a various sylvan scene
+Appear’d around, and groves of living green;
+Poplars and alders ever quivering play’d,
+And nodding cypress form’d a fragrant shade:
+On whose high branches, waving with the storm,
+The birds of broadest wing their mansions form,—
+The chough, the sea-mew, the loquacious crow,—
+and scream aloft, and skim the deeps below.
+Depending vines the shelving cavern screen.
+With purple clusters blushing through the green.
+Four limpid fountains from the clefts distil:
+And every fountain pours a several rill,
+In mazy windings wandering down the hill:
+Where bloomy meads with vivid greens were crown’d,
+And glowing violets threw odours round.
+A scene, where, if a god should cast his sight,
+A god might gaze, and wander with delight!
+Joy touch’d the messenger of heaven: he stay’d
+Entranced, and all the blissful haunts surveyed.
+Him, entering in the cave, Calypso knew;
+For powers celestial to each other’s view
+Stand still confess’d, though distant far they lie
+To habitants of earth, or sea, or sky.
+But sad Ulysses, by himself apart,
+Pour’d the big sorrows of his swelling heart;
+All on the lonely shore he sate to weep,
+And roll’d his eyes around the restless deep:
+Toward his loved coast he roll’d his eyes in vain,
+Till, dimm’d with rising grief, they stream’d again.
+
+Now graceful seated on her shining throne,
+To Hermes thus the nymph divine begun:
+
+“God of the golden wand! on what behest
+Arrivest thou here, an unexpected guest?
+Loved as thou art, thy free injunctions lay;
+’Tis mine with joy and duty to obey.
+Till now a stranger, in a happy hour
+Approach, and taste the dainties of my bower.”
+
+Thus having spoke, the nymph the table spread
+(Ambrosial cates, with nectar rosy-red);
+Hermes the hospitable rite partook,
+Divine refection! then, recruited, spoke:
+
+“What moves this journey from my native sky,
+A goddess asks, nor can a god deny.
+Hear then the truth. By mighty Jove’s command
+Unwilling have I trod this pleasing land:
+For who, self-moved, with weary wing would sweep
+Such length of ocean and unmeasured deep;
+A world of waters! far from all the ways
+Where men frequent, or sacred altars blaze!
+But to Jove’s will submission we must pay;
+What power so great to dare to disobey?
+A man, he says, a man resides with thee,
+Of all his kind most worn with misery.
+The Greeks, (whose arms for nine long year employ’d
+Their force on Ilion, in the tenth destroy’d,)
+At length, embarking in a luckless hour,
+With conquest proud, incensed Minerva’s power:
+Hence on the guilty race her vengeance hurl’d,
+With storms pursued them through the liquid world.
+There all his vessels sunk beneath the wave!
+There all his dear companions found their grave!
+Saved from the jaws of death by Heaven’s decree,
+The tempest drove him to these shores and thee.
+Him, Jove now orders to his native lands
+Straight to dismiss: so destiny commands:
+Impatient Fate his near return attends,
+And calls him to his country, and his friends.”
+
+E’en to her inmost soul the goddess shook;
+Then thus her anguish, and her passion broke:
+“Ungracious gods! with spite and envy cursed!
+Still to your own ethereal race the worst!
+Ye envy mortal and immortal joy,
+And love, the only sweet of life destroy,
+Did ever goddess by her charms engage
+A favour’d mortal, and not feel your rage?
+So when Aurora sought Orion’s love,
+Her joys disturbed your blissful hours above,
+Till, in Ortygia Dian’s winged dart
+Had pierced the hapless hunter to the heart,
+So when the covert of the thrice-eared field
+Saw stately Ceres to her passion yield,
+Scarce could Iasion taste her heavenly charms,
+But Jove’s swift lightning scorched him in her arms.
+And is it now my turn, ye mighty powers!
+Am I the envy of your blissful bowers?
+A man, an outcast to the storm and wave,
+It was my crime to pity, and to save;
+When he who thunders rent his bark in twain,
+And sunk his brave companions in the main,
+Alone, abandon’d, in mid-ocean tossed,
+The sport of winds, and driven from every coast,
+Hither this man of miseries I led,
+Received the friendless, and the hungry fed;
+Nay promised (vainly promised) to bestow
+Immortal life, exempt from age and woe.
+’Tis past-and Jove decrees he shall remove;
+Gods as we are, we are but slaves to Jove.
+Go then he must (he must, if he ordain,
+Try all those dangers, all those deeps, again);
+But never, never shall Calypso send
+To toils like these her husband and her friend.
+What ships have I, what sailors to convey,
+What oars to cut the long laborious way?
+Yet I’ll direct the safest means to go;
+That last advice is all I can bestow.”
+
+To her the power who hears the charming rod;
+“Dismiss the man, nor irritate the god;
+Prevent the rage of him who reigns above,
+For what so dreadful as the wrath of Jove?”
+Thus having said, he cut the cleaving sky,
+And in a moment vanished from her eye,
+The nymph, obedient to divine command,
+To seek Ulysses, paced along the sand,
+Him pensive on the lonely beach she found,
+With streaming eyes in briny torrents drown’d,
+And inly pining for his native shore;
+For now the soft enchantress pleased no more;
+For now, reluctant, and constrained by charms,
+Absent he lay in her desiring arms,
+In slumber wore the heavy night away,
+On rocks and shores consumed the tedious day;
+There sate all desolate, and sighed alone,
+With echoing sorrows made the mountains groan.
+And roll’d his eyes o’er all the restless main,
+Till, dimmed with rising grief, they streamed again.
+
+Here, on his musing mood the goddess press’d,
+Approaching soft, and thus the chief address’d:
+“Unhappy man! to wasting woes a prey,
+No more in sorrows languish life away:
+Free as the winds I give thee now to rove:
+Go, fell the timber of yon lofty grove,
+And form a raft, and build the rising ship,
+Sublime to bear thee o’er the gloomy deep.
+To store the vessel let the care be mine,
+With water from the rock and rosy wine,
+And life-sustaining bread, and fair array,
+And prosperous gales to waft thee on the way.
+These, if the gods with my desire comply
+(The gods, alas, more mighty far than I,
+And better skill’d in dark events to come),
+In peace shall land thee at thy native home.”
+
+With sighs Ulysses heard the words she spoke,
+Then thus his melancholy silence broke:
+“Some other motive, goddess! sways thy mind
+(Some close design, or turn of womankind),
+Nor my return the end, nor this the way,
+On a slight raft to pass the swelling sea,
+Huge, horrid, vast! where scarce in safety sails
+The best-built ship, though Jove inspires the gales.
+The bold proposal how shall I fulfil,
+Dark as I am, unconscious of thy will?
+Swear, then, thou mean’st not what my soul forebodes;
+Swear by the solemn oath that binds the gods.”
+
+Him, while he spoke, with smiles Calypso eyed,
+And gently grasp’d his hand, and thus replied:
+“This shows thee, friend, by old experience taught,
+And learn’d in all the wiles of human thought,
+How prone to doubt, how cautious, are the wise!
+But hear, O earth, and hear, ye sacred skies!
+And thou, O Styx! whose formidable floods
+Glide through the shades, and bind the attesting gods!
+No form’d design, no meditated end,
+Lurks in the counsel of thy faithful friend;
+Kind the persuasion, and sincere my aim;
+The same my practice, were my fate the same.
+Heaven has not cursed me with a heart of steel,
+But given the sense to pity, and to feel.”
+
+Thus having said, the goddess marched before:
+He trod her footsteps in the sandy shore.
+At the cool cave arrived, they took their state;
+He filled the throne where Mercury had sate.
+For him the nymph a rich repast ordains,
+Such as the mortal life of man sustains;
+Before herself were placed the the cates divine,
+Ambrosial banquet and celestial wine.
+Their hunger satiate, and their thirst repress’d,
+Thus spoke Calypso to her godlike guest:
+
+“Ulysses! (with a sigh she thus began;)
+O sprung from gods! in wisdom more than man!
+Is then thy home the passion of thy heart?
+Thus wilt thou leave me, are we thus to part?
+Farewell! and ever joyful mayst thou be,
+Nor break the transport with one thought of me.
+But ah, Ulysses! wert thou given to know
+What Fate yet dooms these still to undergo,
+Thy heart might settle in this scene of ease.
+And e’en these slighted charms might learn to please.
+A willing goddess, and immortal life,
+Might banish from thy mind an absent wife.
+Am I inferior to a mortal dame?
+Less soft my feature less august my frame?
+Or shall the daughters of mankind compare
+Their earth born beauties with the heavenly fair?”
+
+“Alas! for this (the prudent man replies)
+Against Ulysses shall thy anger rise?
+Loved and adored, O goddess as thou art,
+Forgive the weakness of a human heart.
+Though well I see thy graces far above
+The dear, though mortal, object of my love,
+Of youth eternal well the difference know,
+And the short date of fading charms below;
+Yet every day, while absent thus I roam,
+I languish to return and die at home.
+Whate’er the gods shall destine me to bear;
+In the black ocean or the watery war,
+’Tis mine to master with a constant mind;
+Inured to perils, to the worst resign’d,
+By seas, by wars, so many dangers run;
+Still I can suffer; their high will he done!”
+
+Thus while he spoke, the beamy sun descends,
+And rising night her friendly shade extends,
+To the close grot the lonely pair remove,
+And slept delighted with the gifts of love.
+When rosy morning call’d them from their rest,
+Ulysses robed him in the cloak and vest.
+The nymph’s fair head a veil transparent graced,
+Her swelling loins a radiant zone embraced
+With flowers of gold; an under robe, unbound,
+In snowy waves flow’d glittering on the ground.
+Forth issuing thus, she gave him first to wield
+A weighty axe with truest temper steeled,
+And double-edged; the handle smooth and plain,
+Wrought of the clouded olive’s easy grain;
+And next, a wedge to drive with sweepy sway
+Then to the neighboring forest led the way.
+On the lone island’s utmost verge there stood
+Of poplars, pine, and firs, a lofty wood,
+Whose leafless summits to the skies aspire,
+Scorch’d by the sun, or seared by heavenly fire
+(Already dried). These pointing out to view,
+The nymph just show’d him, and with tears withdrew.
+
+Now toils the hero: trees on trees o’erthrown
+Fall crackling round him, and the forests groan:
+Sudden, full twenty on the plain are strow’d,
+And lopp’d and lighten’d of their branchy load.
+At equal angles these disposed to join,
+He smooth’d and squared them by the rule and line,
+(The wimbles for the work Calypso found)
+With those he pierced them and with clinchers bound.
+Long and capacious as a shipwright forms
+Some bark’s broad bottom to out-ride the storms,
+So large he built the raft; then ribb’d it strong
+From space to space, and nail’d the planks along;
+These form’d the sides: the deck he fashion’d last;
+Then o’er the vessel raised the taper mast,
+With crossing sail-yards dancing in the wind;
+And to the helm the guiding rudder join’d
+(With yielding osiers fenced, to break the force
+Of surging waves, and steer the steady course).
+Thy loom, Calypso, for the future sails
+Supplied the cloth, capacious of the gales.
+With stays and cordage last he rigged the ship,
+And, roll’d on levers, launch’d her in the deep.
+
+Four days were pass’d, and now the work complete,
+Shone the fifth morn, when from her sacred seat
+The nymph dismiss’d him (odorous garments given),
+And bathed in fragrant oils that breathed of heaven:
+Then fill’d two goatskins with her hands divine,
+With water one, and one with sable wine:
+Of every kind, provisions heaved aboard;
+And the full decks with copious viands stored.
+The goddess, last, a gentle breeze supplies,
+To curl old Ocean, and to warm the skies.
+
+And now, rejoicing in the prosperous gales,
+With beating heart Ulysses spreads his sails;
+Placed at the helm he sate, and mark’d the skies,
+Nor closed in sleep his ever-watchful eyes.
+There view’d the Pleiads, and the Northern Team,
+And great Orion’s more refulgent beam.
+To which, around the axle of the sky,
+The Bear, revolving, points his golden eye:
+Who shines exalted on the ethereal plain,
+Nor bathes his blazing forehead in the main.
+Far on the left those radiant fires to keep
+The nymph directed, as he sail’d the deep.
+Full seventeen nights he cut the foaming way:
+The distant land appear’d the following day:
+Then swell’d to sight Phæacia’s dusky coast,
+And woody mountains, half in vapours lost;
+That lay before him indistinct and vast,
+Like a broad shield amid the watery waste.
+
+But him, thus voyaging the deeps below,
+From far, on Solyme’s aërial brow,
+The king of ocean saw, and seeing burn’d
+(From Æthiopia’s happy climes return’d);
+The raging monarch shook his azure head,
+And thus in secret to his soul he said:
+“Heavens! how uncertain are the powers on high!
+Is then reversed the sentence of the sky,
+In one man’s favour; while a distant guest
+I shared secure the Æthiopian feast?
+Behold how near Phæacia’s land he draws;
+The land affix’d by Fate’s eternal laws
+To end his toils. Is then our anger vain?
+No; if this sceptre yet commands the main.”
+
+He spoke, and high the forky trident hurl’d,
+Rolls clouds on clouds, and stirs the watery world,
+At once the face of earth and sea deforms,
+Swells all the winds, and rouses all the storms.
+Down rushed the night: east, west, together roar;
+And south and north roll mountains to the shore.
+Then shook the hero, to despair resign’d,
+And question’d thus his yet unconquer’d mind;
+
+“Wretch that I am! what farther fates attend
+This life of toils, and what my destined end?
+Too well, alas! the island goddess knew
+On the black sea what perils should ensue.
+New horrors now this destined head inclose;
+Untill’d is yet the measure of my woes;
+With what a cloud the brows of heaven are crown’d;
+What raging winds! what roaring waters round!
+’Tis Jove himself the swelling tempest rears;
+Death, present death, on every side appears.
+Happy! thrice happy! who, in battle slain,
+Press’d in Atrides’ cause the Trojan plain!
+Oh! had I died before that well-fought wall!
+Had some distinguish’d day renown’d my fall
+(Such as was that when showers of javelins fled
+From conquering Troy around Achilles dead),
+All Greece had paid me solemn funerals then,
+And spread my glory with the sons of men.
+A shameful fate now hides my hapless head,
+Unwept, unnoted, and for ever dead!”
+
+A mighty wave rush’d o’er him as he spoke,
+The raft is cover’d, and the mast is broke;
+Swept from the deck and from the rudder torn,
+Far on the swelling surge the chief was borne;
+While by the howling tempest rent in twain
+Flew sail and sail-yards rattling o’er the main.
+Long-press’d, he heaved beneath the weighty wave,
+Clogg’d by the cumbrous vest Calypso gave;
+At length, emerging, from his nostrils wide
+And gushing mouth effused the briny tide;
+E’en then not mindless of his last retreat,
+He seized the raft, and leap’d into his seat,
+Strong with the fear of death. In rolling flood,
+Now here, now there, impell’d the floating wood
+As when a heap of gather’d thorns is cast,
+Now to, now fro, before the autumnal blast;
+Together clung, it rolls around the field;
+So roll’d the float, and so its texture held:
+And now the south, and now the north, bear sway,
+And now the east the foamy floods obey,
+And now the west wind whirls it o’er the sea.
+The wandering chief with toils on toils oppress’d,
+Leucothea saw, and pity touch’d her breast.
+(Herself a mortal once, of Cadmus’ strain,
+But now an azure sister of the main)
+Swift as a sea-mew springing from the flood,
+All radiant on the raft the goddess stood;
+Then thus address’d him: “Thou whom heaven decrees
+To Neptune’s wrath, stern tyrant of the seas!
+(Unequal contest!) not his rage and power,
+Great as he is, such virtue shall devour.
+What I suggest, thy wisdom will perform:
+Forsake thy float, and leave it to the storm;
+Strip off thy garments; Neptune’s fury brave
+With naked strength, and plunge into the wave.
+To reach Phæacia all thy nerves extend,
+There Fate decrees thy miseries shall end.
+This heavenly scarf beneath thy bosom bind,
+And live; give all thy terrors to the wind.
+Soon as thy arms the happy shore shall gain,
+Return the gift, and cast it in the main:
+Observe my orders, and with heed obey,
+Cast it far off, and turn thy eyes away.”
+
+With that, her hand the sacred veil bestows,
+Then down the deeps she dived from whence she rose;
+A moment snatch’d the shining form away,
+And all was covered with the curling sea.
+
+Struck with amaze, yet still to doubt inclined,
+He stands suspended, and explores his mind:
+“What shall I do? unhappy me! who knows
+But other gods intend me other woes?
+Whoe’er thou art, I shall not blindly join
+Thy pleaded reason, but consult with mine:
+For scarce in ken appears that distant isle
+Thy voice foretells me shall conclude my toil.
+Thus then I judge: while yet the planks sustain
+The wild waves’ fury, here I fix’d remain:
+But, when their texture to the tempest yields,
+I launch adventurous on the liquid fields,
+Join to the help of gods the strength of man,
+And take this method, since the best I can.”
+
+While thus his thoughts an anxious council hold,
+The raging god a watery mountain roll’d;
+Like a black sheet the whelming billows spread,
+Burst o’er the float, and thunder’d on his head.
+Planks, beams, disparted fly; the scatter’d wood
+Rolls diverse, and in fragments strews the flood.
+So the rude Boreas, o’er the field new-shorn,
+Tosses and drives the scatter’d heaps of corn.
+And now a single beam the chief bestrides:
+There poised a while above the bounding tides,
+His limbs discumbers of the clinging vest,
+And binds the sacred cincture round his breast:
+Then prone an ocean in a moment flung,
+Stretch’d wide his eager arms, and shot the seas along.
+All naked now, on heaving billows laid,
+Stern Neptune eyed him, and contemptuous said:
+
+“Go, learn’d in woes, and other foes essay!
+Go, wander helpless on the watery way;
+Thus, thus find out the destined shore, and then
+(If Jove ordains it) mix with happier men.
+Whate’er thy fate, the ills our wrath could raise
+Shall last remember’d in thy best of days.”
+
+This said, his sea-green steeds divide the foam,
+And reach high Ægæ and the towery dome.
+Now, scarce withdrawn the fierce earth-shaking power,
+Jove’s daughter Pallas watch’d the favouring hour.
+Back to their caves she bade the winds to fly;
+And hush’d the blustering brethren of the sky.
+The drier blasts alone of Boreas away,
+And bear him soft on broken waves away;
+With gentle force impelling to that shore,
+Where fate has destined he shall toil no more.
+And now, two nights, and now two days were pass’d,
+Since wide he wander’d on the watery waste;
+Heaved on the surge with intermitting breath,
+And hourly panting in the arms of death.
+The third fair morn now blazed upon the main;
+Then glassy smooth lay all the liquid plain;
+The winds were hush’d, the billows scarcely curl’d,
+And a dead silence still’d the watery world;
+When lifted on a ridgy wave he spies
+The land at distance, and with sharpen’d eyes.
+As pious children joy with vast delight
+When a loved sire revives before their sight
+(Who, lingering long, has call’d on death in vain,
+Fix’d by some demon to his bed of pain,
+Till heaven by miracle his life restore);
+So joys Ulysses at the appearing shore;
+And sees (and labours onward as he sees)
+The rising forests, and the tufted trees.
+And now, as near approaching as the sound
+Of human voice the listening ear may wound,
+Amidst the rocks he heard a hollow roar
+Of murmuring surges breaking on the shore;
+Nor peaceful port was there, nor winding bay,
+To shield the vessel from the rolling sea,
+But cliffs and shaggy shores, a dreadful sight!
+All rough with rocks, with foamy billows white.
+Fear seized his slacken’d limbs and beating heart,
+As thus he communed with his soul apart;
+
+“Ah me! when, o’er a length of waters toss’d,
+These eyes at last behold the unhoped-for coast,
+No port receives me from the angry main,
+But the loud deeps demand me back again.
+Above, sharp rocks forbid access; around
+Roar the wild waves; beneath, is sea profound!
+No footing sure affords the faithless sand,
+To stem too rapid, and too deep to stand.
+If here I enter, my efforts are vain,
+Dash’d on the cliffs, or heaved into the main;
+Or round the island if my course I bend,
+Where the ports open, or the shores descend,
+Back to the seas the rolling surge may sweep,
+And bury all my hopes beneath the deep.
+Or some enormous whale the god may send
+(For many such an Amphitrite attend);
+Too well the turns of mortal chance I know,
+And hate relentless of my heavenly foe.”
+While thus he thought, a monstrous wave upbore
+The chief, and dash’d him on the craggy shore;
+Torn was his skin, nor had the ribs been whole,
+But Instant Pallas enter’d in his soul.
+Close to the cliff with both his hands he clung,
+And stuck adherent, and suspended hung;
+Till the huge surge roll’d off; then backward sweep
+The refluent tides, and plunge him in the deep.
+As when the polypus, from forth his cave
+Torn with full force, reluctant beats the wave,
+His ragged claws are stuck with stones and sands;
+So the rough rock had shagg’d Ulysses hands,
+And now had perish’d, whelm’d beneath the main,
+The unhappy man; e’en fate had been in vain;
+But all-subduing Pallas lent her power,
+And prudence saved him in the needful hour.
+Beyond the beating surge his course he bore,
+(A wider circle, but in sight of shore),
+With longing eyes, observing, to survey
+Some smooth ascent, or safe sequester’d bay.
+Between the parting rocks at length he spied
+A failing stream with gentler waters glide;
+Where to the seas the shelving shore declined,
+And form’d a bay impervious to the wind.
+To this calm port the glad Ulysses press’d,
+And hail’d the river, and its god address’d:
+
+“Whoe’er thou art, before whose stream unknown
+I bend, a suppliant at thy watery throne,
+Hear, azure king! nor let me fly in vain
+To thee from Neptune and the raging main
+Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me,
+For sacred even to gods is misery:
+Let then thy waters give the weary rest,
+And save a suppliant, and a man distress’d.”
+
+He pray’d, and straight the gentle stream subsides,
+Detains the rushing current of his tides,
+Before the wanderer smooths the watery way,
+And soft receives him from the rolling sea.
+That moment, fainting as he touch’d the shore,
+He dropp’d his sinewy arms: his knees no more
+Perform’d their office, or his weight upheld:
+His swoln heart heaved; his bloated body swell’d:
+From mouth and nose the briny torrent ran;
+And lost in lassitude lay all the man,
+Deprived of voice, of motion, and of breath;
+The soul scarce waking in the arms of death.
+Soon as warm life its wonted office found,
+The mindful chief Leucothea’s scarf unbound;
+Observant of her word, he turn’d aside
+His head, and cast it on the rolling tide.
+Behind him far, upon the purple waves,
+The waters waft it, and the nymph receives.
+
+Now parting from the stream, Ulysses found
+A mossy bank with pliant rushes crown’d;
+The bank he press’d, and gently kiss’d the ground;
+Where on the flowery herb as soft he lay,
+Thus to his soul the sage began to say:
+
+“What will ye next ordain, ye powers on high!
+And yet, ah yet, what fates are we to try?
+Here by the stream, if I the night out-wear,
+Thus spent already, how shall nature bear
+The dews descending, and nocturnal air;
+Or chilly vapours breathing from the flood
+When morning rises?—If I take the wood,
+And in thick shelter of innumerous boughs
+Enjoy the comfort gentle sleep allows;
+Though fenced from cold, and though my toil be pass’d,
+What savage beasts may wander in the waste?
+Perhaps I yet may fall a bloody prey
+To prowling bears, or lions in the way.”
+
+Thus long debating in himself he stood:
+At length he took the passage to the wood,
+Whose shady horrors on a rising brow
+Waved high, and frown’d upon the stream below.
+There grew two olives, closest of the grove,
+With roots entwined, the branches interwove;
+Alike their leaves, but not alike they smiled
+With sister-fruits; one fertile, one was wild.
+Nor here the sun’s meridian rays had power,
+Nor wind sharp-piercing, nor the rushing shower;
+The verdant arch so close its texture kept:
+Beneath this covert great Ulysses crept.
+Of gather’d leaves an ample bed he made
+(Thick strewn by tempest through the bowery shade);
+Where three at least might winter’s cold defy,
+Though Boreas raged along the inclement sky.
+This store with joy the patient hero found,
+And, sunk amidst them, heap’d the leaves around.
+As some poor peasant, fated to reside
+Remote from neighbours in a forest wide,
+Studious to save what human wants require,
+In embers heap’d, preserves the seeds of fire:
+Hid in dry foliage thus Ulysses lies,
+Till Pallas pour’d soft slumbers on his eyes;
+And golden dreams (the gift of sweet repose)
+Lull’d all his cares, and banish’d all his woes.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK VI.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+
+Pallas appearing in a dream in to Nausicaa (the daughter of Alcinous,
+king of Phæacia, commands her to descend to the river, and wash the
+robes of state, in preparation for her nuptials. Nausicaa goes with her
+handmaidens to the river; where, while the garments are spread on the
+bank, they divert themselves in sports. Their voices awaken Ulysses,
+who, addressing himself to the princess, is by her relieved and
+clothed, and receives directions in what manner to apply to the king
+and queen of the island.
+
+
+While thus the weary wanderer sunk to rest,
+And peaceful slumbers calmed his anxious breast,
+The martial maid from heaven’s aërial height
+Swift to Phæacia wing’d her rapid flight.
+In elder times the soft Phæacian train
+In ease possess’d the wide Hyperian plain;
+Till the Cyclopean race in arms arose,
+A lawless nation of gigantic foes;
+Then great Nausithous from Hyperia far,
+Through seas retreating from the sounds of war,
+The recreant nation to fair Scheria led,
+Where never science rear’d her laurell’d head;
+There round his tribes a strength of wall he raised;
+To heaven the glittering domes and temples blazed;
+Just to his realms, he parted grounds from grounds,
+And shared the lands, and gave the lands their bounds.
+Now in the silent grave the monarch lay,
+And wise Alcinous held the legal sway.
+
+To his high palace through the fields of air
+The goddess shot; Ulysses was her care.
+There, as the night in silence roll’d away,
+A heaven of charms divine Nausicaa lay:
+Through the thick gloom the shining portals blaze;
+Two nymphs the portals guard, each nymph a Grace,
+Light as the viewless air the warrior maid
+Glides through the valves, and hovers round her head;
+A favourite virgin’s blooming form she took,
+From Dymas sprung, and thus the vision spoke:
+
+“Oh Indolent! to waste thy hours away!
+And sleep’st thou careless of the bridal day!
+Thy spousal ornament neglected lies;
+Arise, prepare the bridal train, arise!
+A just applause the cares of dress impart,
+And give soft transport to a parent’s heart.
+Haste, to the limpid stream direct thy way,
+When the gay morn unveils her smiling ray;
+Haste to the stream! companion of thy care,
+Lo, I thy steps attend, thy labours share.
+Virgin, awake! the marriage hour is nigh,
+See from their thrones thy kindred monarchs sigh!
+The royal car at early dawn obtain,
+And order mules obedient to the rein;
+For rough the way, and distant rolls the wave,
+Where their fair vests Phæacian virgins lave,
+In pomp ride forth; for pomp becomes the great
+And majesty derives a grace from state.”
+Then to the palaces of heaven she sails,
+Incumbent on the wings of wafting gales;
+The seat of gods; the regions mild of peace,
+Full joy, and calm eternity of ease.
+There no rude winds presume to shake the skies,
+No rains descend, no snowy vapours rise;
+But on immortal thrones the blest repose;
+The firmament with living splendours glows.
+Hither the goddess winged the aërial way,
+Through heaven’s eternal gates that blazed with day.
+
+Now from her rosy car Aurora shed
+The dawn, and all the orient flamed with red.
+Up rose the virgin with the morning light,
+Obedient to the vision of the night.
+The queen she sought, the queen her hours bestowed
+In curious works; the whirling spindle glow’d
+With crimson threads, while busy damsels call
+The snowy fleece, or twist the purpled wool.
+Meanwhile Phæacia’s peers in council sate;
+From his high dome the king descends in state;
+Then with a filial awe the royal maid
+Approach’d him passing, and submissive said:
+
+“Will my dread sire his ear regardful deign,
+And may his child the royal car obtain?
+Say, with my garments shall I bend my way?
+Where through the vales the mazy waters stray?
+A dignity of dress adorns the great,
+And kings draw lustre from the robe of state.
+Five sons thou hast; three wait the bridal day.
+And spotless robes become the young and gay;
+So when with praise amid the dance they shine,
+By these my cares adorn’d that praise is mine.”
+
+Thus she: but blushes ill-restrain’d betray
+Her thoughts intentive on the bridal day,
+The conscious sire the dawning blush survey’d,
+And, smiling, thus bespoke the blooming maid
+“My child, my darling joy, the car receive;
+That, and whate’er our daughter asks, we give.”
+Swift at the royal nod the attending train
+The car prepare, the mules incessant rein,
+The blooming virgin with despatchful cares
+Tunics, and stoles, and robes imperial, bears.
+The queen, assiduous to her train assigns
+The sumptuous viands, and the flavorous wines.
+The train prepare a cruse of curious mould,
+A cruse of fragrance, form’d of burnish’d gold;
+Odour divine! whose soft refreshing streams
+Sleek the smooth skin, and scent the snowy limbs.
+
+Now mounting the gay seat, the silken reins
+Shine in her hand; along the sounding plains
+Swift fly the mules; nor rode the nymph alone;
+Around, a bevy of bright damsels shone.
+They seek the cisterns where Phæacian dames
+Wash their fair garments in the limpid streams;
+Where, gathering into depth from falling rills,
+The lucid wave a spacious bason fills.
+The mules, unharness’d, range beside the main,
+Or crop the verdant herbage of the plain.
+
+Then emulous the royal robes they lave,
+And plunge the vestures in the cleansing wave
+(The vestures cleansed o’erspread the shelly sand,
+Their snowy lustre whitens all the strand);
+Then with a short repast relieve their toil,
+And o’er their limbs diffuse ambrosial oil;
+And while the robes imbibe the solar ray,
+O’er the green mead the sporting virgins play
+(Their shining veils unbound). Along the skies,
+Toss’d and retoss’d, the ball incessant flies.
+They sport, they feast; Nausicaa lifts her voice,
+And, warbling sweet, makes earth and heaven rejoice.
+
+As when o’er Erymanth Diana roves,
+Or wide Täygetus’ resounding groves;
+A sylvan train the huntress queen surrounds,
+Her rattling quiver from her shoulders sounds:
+Fierce in the sport, along the mountain’s brow
+They bay the boar, or chase the bounding roe;
+High o’er the lawn, with more majestic pace,
+Above the nymphs she treads with stately grace;
+Distinguish’d excellence the goddess proves;
+Exults Latona as the virgin moves.
+With equal grace Nausicaa trod the plain,
+And shone transcendent o’er the beauteous train.
+
+Meantime (the care and favourite of the skies
+Wrapp’d in imbowering shade, Ulysses lies,
+His woes forgot! but Pallas now address’d
+To break the bands of all-composing rest.
+Forth from her snowy hand Nausicaa threw
+The various ball; the ball erroneous flew
+And swam the stream; loud shrieks the virgin train,
+And the loud shriek redoubles from the main.
+Waked by the shrilling sound, Ulysses rose,
+And, to the deaf woods wailing, breathed his woes:
+
+“Ah me! on what inhospitable coast,
+On what new region is Ulysses toss’d;
+Possess’d by wild barbarians fierce in arms;
+Or men, whose bosom tender pity warms?
+What sounds are these that gather from he shores?
+The voice of nymphs that haunt the sylvan bowers,
+The fair-hair’d Dryads of the shady wood;
+Or azure daughters of the silver flood;
+Or human voice? but issuing from the shades,
+Why cease I straight to learn what sound invades?”
+
+Then, where the grove with leaves umbrageous bends,
+With forceful strength a branch the hero rends;
+Around his loins the verdant cincture spreads
+A wreathy foliage and concealing shades.
+As when a lion in the midnight hours,
+Beat by rude blasts, and wet with wintry showers,
+Descends terrific from the mountains brow;
+With living flames his rolling eye balls glow;
+With conscious strength elate, he bends his way,
+Majestically fierce, to seize his prey
+(The steer or stag;) or, with keen hunger bold,
+Spring o’er the fence and dissipates the fold.
+No less a terror, from the neighbouring groves
+(Rough from the tossing surge) Ulysses moves;
+Urged on by want, and recent from the storms;
+The brackish ooze his manly grace deforms.
+Wide o’er the shore with many a piercing cry
+To rocks, to caves, the frightened virgins fly;
+All but the nymph; the nymph stood fix’d alone,
+By Pallas arm’d with boldness not her own.
+Meantime in dubious thought the king awaits,
+And, self-considering, as he stands, debates;
+Distant his mournful story to declare,
+Or prostrate at her knee address the prayer.
+But fearful to offend, by wisdom sway’d,
+At awful distance he accosts the maid:
+
+“If from the skies a goddess, or if earth
+(Imperial virgin) boast thy glorious birth,
+To thee I bend! If in that bright disguise
+Thou visit earth, a daughter of the skies,
+Hail, Dian, hail! the huntress of the groves
+So shines majestic, and so stately moves,
+So breathes an air divine! But if thy race
+Be mortal, and this earth thy native place,
+Blest is the father from whose loins you sprung,
+Blest is the mother at whose breast you hung.
+Blest are the brethren who thy blood divide,
+To such a miracle of charms allied:
+Joyful they see applauding princes gaze,
+When stately in the dance you swim the harmonious maze.
+But blest o’er all, the youth with heavenly charms,
+Who clasps the bright perfection in his arms!
+Never, I never view’d till this blest hour
+Such finish’d grace! I gaze, and I adore!
+Thus seems the palm with stately honours crown’d
+By Phœbus’ altars; thus o’erlooks the ground;
+The pride of Delos. (By the Delian coast,
+I voyaged, leader of a warrior-host,
+But ah, how changed! from thence my sorrow flows;
+O fatal voyage, source of all my woes;)
+Raptured I stood, and as this hour amazed,
+With reverence at the lofty wonder gazed:
+Raptured I stand! for earth ne’er knew to bear
+A plant so stately, or a nymph so fair.
+Awed from access, I lift my suppliant hands;
+For Misery, O queen! before thee stands.
+Twice ten tempestuous nights I roll’d, resign’d
+To roaring billows, and the warring wind;
+Heaven bade the deep to spare; but heaven, my foe,
+Spares only to inflict some mightier woe.
+Inured to cares, to death in all its forms;
+Outcast I rove, familiar with the storms.
+Once more I view the face of human kind:
+Oh let soft pity touch thy generous mind!
+Unconscious of what air I breathe, I stand
+Naked, defenceless on a narrow land.
+Propitious to my wants a vest supply
+To guard the wretched from the inclement sky:
+So may the gods, who heaven and earth control,
+Crown the chaste wishes of thy virtuous soul,
+On thy soft hours their choicest blessings shed;
+Blest with a husband be thy bridal bed;
+Blest be thy husband with a blooming race,
+And lasting union crown your blissful days.
+The gods, when they supremely bless, bestow
+Firm union on their favourites below;
+Then envy grieves, with inly-pining hate;
+The good exult, and heaven is in our state.”
+
+To whom the nymph: “O stranger, cease thy care;
+Wise is thy soul, but man is born to bear;
+Jove weighs affairs of earth in dubious scales,
+And the good suffers, while the bad prevails.
+Bear, with a soul resign’d, the will of Jove;
+Who breathes, must mourn: thy woes are from above.
+But since thou tread’st our hospitable shore,
+’Tis mine to bid the wretched grieve no more,
+To clothe the naked, and thy way to guide.
+Know, the Phæacian tribes this land divide;
+From great Alcinous’ royal loins I spring,
+A happy nation, and a happy king.”
+
+Then to her maids: “Why, why, ye coward train,
+These fears, this flight? ye fear, and fly in vain.
+Dread ye a foe? dismiss that idle dread,
+’Tis death with hostile step these shores to tread;
+Safe in the love of heaven, an ocean flows
+Around our realm, a barrier from the foes;
+’Tis ours this son of sorrow to relieve,
+Cheer the sad heart, nor let affliction grieve.
+By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent;
+And what to those we give to Jove is lent.
+Then food supply, and bathe his fainting limbs
+Where waving shades obscure the mazy streams.”
+
+Obedient to the call, the chief they guide
+To the calm current of the secret tide;
+Close by the stream a royal dress they lay,
+A vest and robe, with rich embroidery gay;
+Then unguents in a vase of gold supply,
+That breathed a fragrance through the balmy sky.
+
+To them the king: “No longer I detain
+Your friendly care: retire, ye virgin train!
+Retire, while from my wearied limbs I lave
+The foul pollution of the briny wave.
+Ye gods! since this worn frame refection knew,
+What scenes have I surveyed of dreadful view!
+But, nymphs, recede! sage chastity denies
+To raise the blush, or pain the modest eyes.”
+
+The nymphs withdrawn, at once into the tide
+Active he bounds; the flashing waves divide
+O’er all his limbs his hands the waves diffuse,
+And from his locks compress the weedy ooze;
+The balmy oil, a fragrant shower, be sheds;
+Then, dressed, in pomp magnificently treads.
+The warrior-goddess gives his frame to shine
+With majesty enlarged, and air divine:
+Back from his brows a length of hair unfurls,
+His hyacinthine locks descend in wavy curls.
+As by some artist, to whom Vulcan gives
+His skill divine, a breathing statue lives;
+By Pallas taught, he frames the wondrous mould,
+And o’er the silver pours the fusile gold
+So Pallas his heroic frame improves
+With heavenly bloom, and like a god he moves.
+A fragrance breathes around; majestic grace
+Attends his steps: the astonished virgins gaze.
+Soft he reclines along the murmuring seas,
+Inhaling freshness from the fanning breeze.
+
+The wondering nymph his glorious port survey’d,
+And to her damsels, with amazement, said:
+
+“Not without care divine the stranger treads
+This land of joy; his steps some godhead leads:
+Would Jove destroy him, sure he had been driven
+Far from this realm, the favourite isle of heaven.
+Late, a sad spectacle of woe, he trod
+The desert sands, and now he looks a god.
+Oh heaven! in my connubial hour decree
+This man my spouse, or such a spouse as he!
+But haste, the viands and the bowl provide.”
+The maids the viands and the bowl supplied:
+Eager he fed, for keen his hunger raged,
+And with the generous vintage thirst assuaged.
+
+Now on return her care Nausicaa bends,
+The robes resumes, the glittering car ascends,
+Far blooming o’er the field; and as she press’d
+The splendid seat, the listening chief address’d:
+
+“Stranger, arise! the sun rolls down the day.
+Lo, to the palace I direct thy way;
+Where, in high state, the nobles of the land
+Attend my royal sire, a radiant band
+But hear, though wisdom in thy soul presides,
+Speaks from thy tongue, and every action guides;
+Advance at distance, while I pass the plain
+Where o’er the furrows waves the golden grain;
+Alone I reascend—With airy mounds
+A strength of wall the guarded city bounds;
+The jutting land two ample bays divides:
+Full through the narrow mouths descend the tides;
+The spacious basons arching rocks enclose,
+A sure defence from every storm that blows.
+Close to the bay great Neptune’s fane adjoins;
+And near, a forum flank’d with marble shines,
+Where the bold youth, the numerous fleets to store,
+Shape the broad sail, or smooth the taper oar:
+For not the bow they bend, nor boast the skill
+To give the feather’d arrow wings to kill;
+But the tall mast above the vessel rear,
+Or teach the fluttering sail to float in air.
+They rush into the deep with eager joy,
+Climb the steep surge, and through the tempest fly;
+A proud, unpolish’d race—To me belongs
+The care to shun the blast of slanderous tongues;
+Lest malice, prone the virtuous to defame,
+Thus with wild censure taint my spotless name:
+‘What stranger this whom thus Nausicaa leads!
+Heavens, with what graceful majesty he treads!
+Perhaps a native of some distant shore,
+The future consort of her bridal hour:
+Or rather some descendant of the skies;
+Won by her prayer, the aërial bridegroom flies,
+Heaven on that hour its choicest influence shed,
+That gave a foreign spouse to crown her bed!
+All, all the godlike worthies that adorn
+This realm, she flies: Phæacia is her scorn.’
+And just the blame: for female innocence
+Not only flies the guilt, but shuns the offence:
+The unguarded virgin, as unchaste, I blame;
+And the least freedom with the sex is shame,
+Till our consenting sires a spouse provide,
+And public nuptials justify the bride,
+But would’st thou soon review thy native plain?
+Attend, and speedy thou shalt pass the main:
+Nigh where a grove with verdant poplars crown’d,
+To Pallas sacred, shades the holy ground,
+We bend our way; a bubbling fount distills
+A lucid lake, and thence descends in rills;
+Around the grove, a mead with lively green
+Falls by degrees, and forms a beauteous scene;
+Here a rich juice the royal vineyard pours;
+And there the garden yields a waste of flowers.
+Hence lies the town, as far as to the ear
+Floats a strong shout along the waves of air.
+There wait embower’d, while I ascend alone
+To great Alcinous on his royal throne.
+Arrived, advance, impatient of delay,
+And to the lofty palace bend thy way:
+The lofty palace overlooks the town,
+From every dome by pomp superior known;
+A child may point the way. With earnest gait
+Seek thou the queen along the rooms of state;
+Her royal hand a wondrous work designs,
+Around a circle of bright damsels shines;
+Part twist the threads, and part the wool dispose,
+While with the purple orb the spindle glows.
+High on a throne, amid the Scherian powers,
+My royal father shares the genial hours:
+But to the queen thy mournful tale disclose,
+With the prevailing eloquence of woes:
+So shalt thou view with joy thy natal shore,
+Though mountains rise between and oceans roar.”
+
+She added not, but waving, as she wheel’d,
+The silver scourge, it glitter’d o’er the field;
+With skill the virgin guides the embroider’d rein,
+Slow rolls the car before the attending train,
+Now whirling down the heavens, the golden day
+Shot through the western clouds a dewy ray;
+The grove they reach, where, from the sacred shade,
+To Pallas thus the pensive hero pray’d:
+
+“Daughter of Jove! whose arms in thunder wield
+The avenging bolt, and shake the dreadful shield;
+Forsook by thee, in vain I sought thy aid
+When booming billows closed above my bead;
+Attend, unconquer’d maid! accord my vows,
+Bid the Great hear, and pitying, heal my woes.”
+
+This heard Minerva, but forbore to fly
+(By Neptune awed) apparent from the sky;
+Stern god! who raged with vengeance, unrestrain’d.
+Till great Ulysses hail’d his native land.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK VII.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE COURT OF ALCINOUS.
+
+
+The princess Nausicaa returns to the city and Ulysses soon after
+follows thither. He is met by Pallas in the form of a young virgin, who
+guides him to the palace, and directs him in what manner to address the
+queen Arete. She then involves him in a mist which causes him to pass
+invisible. The palace and gardens of Alcinous described. Ulysses
+falling at the feet of the queen, the mist disperses, the Phæacians
+admire, and receive him with respect. The queen inquiring by what means
+he had the garments he then wore, be relates to her and Alcinous his
+departure from Calypso, and his arrival in their dominions.
+    The same day continues, and the book ends with the night.
+
+
+The patient heavenly man thus suppliant pray’d;
+While the slow mules draws on the imperial maid;
+Through the proud street she moves, the public gaze;
+The turning wheel before the palace stays.
+With ready love her brothers, gathering round,
+Received the vestures, and the mules unbound.
+She seeks the bridal bower: a matron there
+The rising fire supplies with busy care,
+Whose charms in youth her father’s heart inflamed,
+Now worn with age, Eurymedusa named;
+The captive dame Phæacian rovers bore,
+Snatch’d from Epirus, her sweet native shore
+(A grateful prize), and in her bloom bestow’d
+On good Alcinous, honor’d as a god;
+Nurse of Nausicaa from her infant years,
+And tender second to a mother’s cares.
+
+Now from the sacred thicket where he lay,
+To town Ulysses took the winding way.
+Propitious Pallas, to secure her care,
+Around him spread a veil of thicken’d air;
+To shun the encounter of the vulgar crowd,
+Insulting still, inquisitive and loud.
+When near the famed Phæacian walls he drew,
+The beauteous city opening to his view,
+His step a virgin met, and stood before:
+A polish’d urn the seeming virgin bore,
+And youthful smiled; but in the low disguise
+Lay hid the goddess with the azure eyes.
+
+“Show me, fair daughter (thus the chief demands),
+The house of him who rules these happy lands
+Through many woes and wanderings, do I come
+To good Alcinous’ hospitable dome.
+Far from my native coast, I rove alone,
+A wretched stranger, and of all unknown!”
+
+The goddess answer’d: “Father, I obey,
+And point the wandering traveller his way:
+Well known to me the palace you inquire,
+For fast beside it dwells my honour’d sire:
+But silent march, nor greet the common train
+With question needless, or inquiry vain;
+A race of ragged mariners are these,
+Unpolish’d men, and boisterous as their seas
+The native islanders alone their care,
+And hateful he who breathes a foreign air.
+These did the ruler of the deep ordain
+To build proud navies, and command the main;
+On canvas wings to cut the watery way;
+No bird so light, no thought so swift as they.”
+
+Thus having spoke, the unknown celestial leads:
+The footsteps of the deity he treads,
+And secret moves along the crowded space,
+Unseen of all the rude Phæacian race.
+(So Pallas order’d, Pallas to their eyes
+The mist objected, and condensed the skies.)
+The chief with wonder sees the extended streets,
+The spreading harbours, and the riding fleets;
+He next their princes’ lofty domes admires,
+In separate islands, crown’d with rising spires;
+And deep entrenchments, and high walls of stone.
+That gird the city like a marble zone.
+At length the kingly palace-gates he view’d;
+There stopp’d the goddess, and her speech renew’d;
+
+“My task is done: the mansion you inquire
+Appears before you: enter, and admire.
+High-throned, and feasting, there thou shalt behold
+The sceptred rulers. Fear not, but be bold:
+A decent boldness ever meets with friends,
+Succeeds, and even a stranger recommends
+First to the queen prefer a suppliant’s claim,
+Alcinous’ queen, Arete is her name.
+The same her parents, and her power the same.
+For know, from ocean’s god Nausithous sprung,
+And Peribæa, beautiful and young
+(Eurymedon’s last hope, who ruled of old
+The race of giants, impious, proud, and bold:
+Perish’d the nation in unrighteous war,
+Perish’d the prince, and left this only heir),
+Who now, by Neptune’s amorous power compress’d,
+Produced a monarch that his people bless’d,
+Father and prince of the Phæacian name;
+From him Rhexenor and Alcinous came.
+The first by Phœbus’ hurtling arrows fired,
+New from his nuptials, hapless youth! expired.
+No son survived; Arete heir’d his state,
+And her, Alcinous chose his royal mate.
+With honours yet to womankind unknown.
+This queen he graces, and divides the throne;
+In equal tenderness her sons conspire,
+And all the children emulate their sire.
+When through the streets she gracious deigns to move
+(The public wonder and the public love),
+The tongues of all with transport sound her praise,
+The eyes of all, as on a goddess, gaze.
+She feels the triumph of a generous breast;
+To heal divisions, to relieve the oppress’d;
+In virtue rich; in blessing others, bless’d.
+(to then secure, thy humble suit prefer
+And owe thy country and thy friends to her.”
+
+With that the goddess deign’d no longer stay,
+But o’er the world of waters wing’d her way;
+Forsaking Scheria’s ever-pleasing shore,
+The winds to Marathon the virgin bore:
+Thence, where proud Athens rears her towery head,
+With opening streets and shining structures spread,
+She pass’d, delighted with the well-known seats;
+And to Erectheus’ sacred dome retreats.
+
+Meanwhile Ulysses at the palace waits,
+There stops, and anxious with his soul debates,
+Fix’d in amaze before the royal gates.
+The front appear’d with radiant splendours gay,
+Bright as the lamp of night, or orb of day,
+The walls were massy brass: the cornice high
+Blue metals crown’d in colours of the sky,
+Rich plates of gold the folding doors incase;
+The pillars silver, on a brazen base;
+Silver the lintels deep-projecting o’er,
+And gold the ringlets that command the door.
+Two rows of stately dogs, on either hand,
+In sculptured gold and labour’d silver stood
+These Vulcan form’d with art divine, to wait
+Immortal guardians at Alcinous’ gate;
+Alive each animated frame appears,
+And still to live beyond the power of years,
+Fair thrones within from space to space were raised,
+Where various carpets with embroidery blessed,
+The work of matrons: these the princes press’d,
+Day following day, a long-continued feast.
+Refulgent pedestals the walls surround,
+Which boys of gold with flaming torches crown’d;
+The polish’d ore, reflecting every ray,
+Blazed on the banquets with a double day.
+Full fifty handmaids form the household train;
+Some turn the mill, or sift the golden grain;
+Some ply the loom; their busy fingers move
+Like poplar-leaves when Zephyr fans the grove.
+Not more renown’d the men of Scheria’s isle
+For sailing arts and all the naval toil,
+Than works of female skill their women’s pride,
+The flying shuttle through the threads to guide:
+Pallas to these her double gifts imparts,
+Incentive genius, and industrious arts.
+
+Close to the gates a spacious garden lies,
+From storms defended and inclement skies.
+Four acres was the allotted space of ground,
+Fenced with a green enclosure all around.
+Tall thriving trees confess’d the fruitful mould:
+The reddening apple ripens here to gold.
+Here the blue fig with luscious juice o’erflows,
+With deeper red the full pomegranate glows;
+The branch here bends beneath the weighty pear,
+And verdant olives flourish round the year,
+The balmy spirit of the western gale
+Eternal breathes on fruits, unthought to fail:
+Each dropping pear a following pear supplies,
+On apples apples, figs on figs arise:
+The same mild season gives the blooms to blow,
+The buds to harden, and the fruits to grow.
+
+Here order’d vines in equal ranks appear,
+With all the united labours of the year;
+Some to unload the fertile branches run,
+Some dry the blackening clusters in the sun,
+Others to tread the liquid harvest join:
+The groaning presses foam with floods of wine
+Here are the vines in early flower descried,
+Here grapes discolour’d on the sunnyside,
+And there in autumn’s richest purple dyed,
+
+Beds of all various herbs, for ever green,
+In beauteous order terminate the scene.
+
+Two plenteous fountains the whole prospect crown’d
+This through the gardens leads its streams around
+Visits each plant, and waters all the ground;
+While that in pipes beneath the palace flows,
+And thence its current on the town bestows:
+To various use their various streams they bring,
+The people one, and one supplies the king.
+
+Such were the glories which the gods ordain’d,
+To grace Alcinous, and his happy land.
+E’en from the chief whom men and nations knew,
+The unwonted scene surprise and rapture drew;
+In pleasing thought he ran the prospect o’er,
+Then hasty enter’d at the lofty door.
+Night now approaching, in the palace stand,
+With goblets crown’d, the rulers of the land;
+Prepared for rest, and offering to the god
+Who bears the virtue of the sleepy rod,
+Unseen he glided through the joyous crowd,
+With darkness circled, and an ambient cloud.
+Direct to great Alcinous’ throne he came,
+And prostrate fell before the imperial dame.
+Then from around him dropp’d the veil of night;
+Sudden he shines, and manifest to sight.
+The nobles gaze, with awful fear oppress’d;
+Silent they gaze, and eye the godlike guest.
+
+“Daughter of great Rhexenor! (thus began,
+Low at her knees, the much-enduring man)
+To thee, thy consort, and this royal train,
+To all that share the blessings of your reign,
+A suppliant bends: oh pity human woe!
+’Tis what the happy to the unhappy owe.
+A wretched exile to his country send,
+Long worn with griefs, and long without a friend
+So may the gods your better days increase,
+And all your joys descend on all your race;
+So reign for ever on your country’s breast,
+Your people blessing, by your people bless’d!”
+
+Then to the genial hearth he bow’d his face,
+And humbled in the ashes took his place.
+Silence ensued. The eldest first began,
+Echeneus sage, a venerable man!
+Whose well-taught mind the present age surpass’d,
+And join’d to that the experience of the last.
+Fit words attended on his weighty sense,
+And mild persuasion flow’d in eloquence.
+
+“Oh sight (he cried) dishonest and unjust!
+A guest, a stranger, seated in the dust!
+To raise the lowly suppliant from the ground
+Befits a monarch. Lo! the peers around
+But wait thy word, the gentle guest to grace,
+And seat him fair in some distinguish’d place.
+Let first the herald due libation pay
+To Jove, who guides the wanderer on his way:
+Then set the genial banquet in his view,
+And give the stranger-guest a stranger’s due.”
+
+His sage advice the listening king obeys,
+He stretch’d his hand the prudent chief to raise,
+And from his seat Laodamas removed
+(The monarch’s offspring, and his best-beloved);
+There next his side the godlike hero sate;
+With stars of silver shone the bed of state.
+The golden ewer a beauteous handmaid brings,
+Replenish’d from the cool translucent springs,
+Whose polish’d vase with copious streams supplies
+A silver layer of capacious size.
+The table next in regal order spread,
+The glittering canisters are heap’d with bread:
+Viands of various kinds invite the taste,
+Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!
+Thus feasting high, Alcinous gave the sign,
+And bade the herald pour the rosy wine;
+“Let all around the due libation pay
+To Jove, who guides the wanderer on his way.”
+
+He said. Pontonous heard the king’s command;
+The circling goblet moves from hand to hand;
+Each drinks the juice that glads the heart of man.
+Alcinous then, with aspect mild, began:
+
+“Princes and peers, attend; while we impart
+To you the thoughts of no inhuman heart.
+Now pleased and satiate from the social rite
+Repair we to the blessings of the night;
+But with the rising day, assembled here,
+Let all the elders of the land appear,
+Pious observe our hospitable laws,
+And Heaven propitiate in the stranger’s cause;
+Then join’d in council, proper means explore
+Safe to transport him to the wished-for shore
+(How distant that, imports us not to know,
+Nor weigh the labour, but relieve the woe).
+Meantime, nor harm nor anguish let him bear
+This interval, Heaven trusts him to our care
+But to his native land our charge resign’d,
+Heaven’s is his life to come, and all the woes behind.
+Then must he suffer what the Fates ordain;
+For Fate has wove the thread of life with pain!
+And twins, e’en from the birth, are Misery and Man!
+But if, descended from the Olympian bower,
+Gracious approach us some immortal power;
+If in that form thou comest a guest divine:
+Some high event the conscious gods design.
+As yet, unbid they never graced our feast,
+The solemn sacrifice call’d down the guest;
+Then manifest of Heaven the vision stood,
+And to our eyes familiar was the god.
+Oft with some favour’d traveller they stray,
+And shine before him all the desert way;
+With social intercourse, and face to face,
+The friends and guardians of our pious race.
+So near approach we their celestial kind,
+By justice, truth, and probity of mind;
+As our dire neighbours of Cyclopean birth
+Match in fierce wrong the giant-sons of earth.”
+
+“Let no such thought (with modest grace rejoin’d
+The prudent Greek) possess the royal mind.
+Alas! a mortal, like thyself, am I;
+No glorious native of yon azure sky:
+In form, ah how unlike their heavenly kind!
+How more inferior in the gifts of mind!
+Alas, a mortal! most oppress’d of those
+Whom Fate has loaded with a weight of woes;
+By a sad train of Miseries alone
+Distinguish’d long, and second now to none!
+By Heaven’s high will compell’d from shore to shore;
+With Heaven’s high will prepared to suffer more.
+What histories of toil could I declare!
+But still long-wearied nature wants repair;
+Spent with fatigue, and shrunk with pining fast,
+My craving bowels still require repast.
+Howe’er the noble, suffering mind may grieve
+Its load of anguish, and disdain to live,
+Necessity demands our daily bread;
+Hunger is insolent, and will be fed.
+But finish, oh ye peers! what you propose,
+And let the morrow’s dawn conclude my woes.
+Pleased will I suffer all the gods ordain,
+To see my soil, my son, my friends again.
+That view vouchsafed, let instant death surprise
+With ever-during shade these happy eyes!”
+
+The assembled peers with general praise approved
+His pleaded reason, and the suit he moved.
+Each drinks a full oblivion of his cares,
+And to the gifts of balmy sleep repairs,
+Ulysses in the regal walls alone
+Remain’d: beside him, on a splendid throne,
+Divine Arete and Alcinous shone.
+The queen, on nearer view, the guest survey’d,
+Rob’d in the garments her own hands had made,
+Not without wonder seen. Then thus began,
+Her words addressing to the godlike man:
+
+“Camest thou hither, wondrous stranger! say,
+From lands remote and o’er a length of sea?
+Tell, then, whence art thou? whence, that princely air?
+And robes like these, so recent and so fair?”
+
+“Hard is the task, O princess! you impose
+(Thus sighing spoke the man of many woes),
+The long, the mournful series to relate
+Of all my sorrows sent by Heaven and Fate!
+Yet what you ask, attend. An island lies
+Beyond these tracts, and under other skies,
+Ogygia named, in Ocean’s watery arms;
+Where dwells Calypso, dreadful in her charms!
+Remote from gods or men she holds her reign,
+Amid the terrors of a rolling main.
+Me, only me, the hand of fortune bore,
+Unblest! to tread that interdicted shore:
+When Jove tremendous in the sable deeps
+Launch’d his red lightning at our scattered ships;
+Then, all my fleet and all my followers lost.
+Sole on a plank on boiling surges toss’d,
+Heaven drove my wreck the Ogygian Isle to find,
+Full nine days floating to the wave and wind.
+Met by the goddess there with open arms,
+She bribed my stay with more than human charms;
+Nay, promised, vainly promised, to bestow
+Immortal life, exempt from age and woe;
+But all her blandishments successless prove,
+To banish from my breast my country’s love.
+I stay reluctant seven continued years,
+And water her ambrosial couch with tears,
+The eighth she voluntary moves to part,
+Or urged by Jove, or her own changeful heart.
+A raft was formed to cross the surging sea;
+Herself supplied the stores and rich array,
+And gave the gales to waft me on my way,
+In seventeen days appear’d your pleasing coast,
+And woody mountains half in vapours lost.
+Joy touched my soul; my soul was joy’d in vain,
+For angry Neptune roused the raging main;
+The wild winds whistle, and the billows roar;
+The splitting raft the furious tempest tore;
+And storms vindictive intercept the shore.
+Soon as their rage subsides, the seas I brave
+With naked force, and shoot along the wave,
+To reach this isle; but there my hopes were lost,
+The surge impell’d me on a craggy coast.
+I chose the safer sea, and chanced to find
+A river’s mouth impervious to the wind,
+And clear of rocks. I fainted by the flood;
+Then took the shelter of the neighbouring wood.
+’Twas night, and, covered in the foliage deep,
+Jove plunged my senses in the death of sleep.
+All night I slept, oblivious of my pain:
+Aurora dawned and Phœbus shined in vain,
+Nor, till oblique he sloped his evening ray,
+Had Somnus dried the balmy dews away.
+Then female voices from the shore I heard:
+A maid amidst them, goddess-like appear’d;
+To her I sued, she pitied my distress;
+Like thee in beauty, nor in virtue less.
+Who from such youth could hope considerate care?
+In youth and beauty wisdom is but rare!
+She gave me life, relieved with just supplies
+My wants, and lent these robes that strike your eyes.
+This is the truth: and oh, ye powers on high!
+Forbid that want should sink me to a lie.”
+
+To this the king: “Our daughter but express’d
+Her cares imperfect to our godlike guest.
+Suppliant to her, since first he chose to pray,
+Why not herself did she conduct the way,
+And with her handmaids to our court convey?”
+
+“Hero and king (Ulysses thus replied)
+Nor blame her faultless nor suspect of pride:
+She bade me follow in the attendant train;
+But fear and reverence did my steps detain,
+Lest rash suspicion might alarm thy mind:
+Man’s of a jealous and mistaken kind.”
+
+“Far from my soul (he cried) the gods efface
+All wrath ill-grounded, and suspicion base!
+Whate’er is honest, stranger, I approve,
+And would to Phœbus, Pallas, and to Jove,
+Such as thou art, thy thought and mine were one,
+Nor thou unwilling to be called my son.
+In such alliance couldst thou wish to join,
+A palace stored with treasures should be thine.
+But if reluctant, who shall force thy stay?
+Jove bids to set the stranger on his way,
+And ships shall wait thee with the morning ray.
+Till then, let slumber cross thy careful eyes:
+The wakeful mariners shall watch the skies,
+And seize the moment when the breezes rise:
+Then gently waft thee to the pleasing shore,
+Where thy soul rests, and labour is no more.
+Far as Euboea though thy country lay,
+Our ships with ease transport thee in a day.
+Thither of old, earth’s giant son to view,
+On wings of wind with Rhadamanth they flew;
+This land, from whence their morning course begun,
+Saw them returning with the setting sun.
+Your eyes shall witness and confirm my tale,
+Our youth how dexterous, and how fleet our sail,
+When justly timed with equal sweep they row,
+And ocean whitens in long tracks below.”
+
+Thus he. No word the experienced man replies,
+But thus to heaven (and heavenward lifts his eyes):
+“O Jove! O father! what the king accords
+Do thou make perfect! sacred be his words!
+Wide o’er the world Alcinous’ glory shine!
+Let fame be his, and ah! my country mine!”
+
+Meantime Arete, for the hour of rest,
+Ordains the fleecy couch, and covering vest;
+Bids her fair train the purple quilts prepare,
+And the thick carpets spread with busy care.
+With torches blazing in their hands they pass’d,
+And finish’d all their queen’s command with haste:
+Then gave the signal to the willing guest:
+He rose with pleasure, and retired to rest.
+There, soft extended, to the murmuring sound
+Of the high porch, Ulysses sleeps profound!
+Within, released from cares, Alcinous lies;
+And fast beside were closed Arete’s eyes.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK VIII.
+
+
+Alcinous calls a council, in which it is resolved to transport Ulysses
+into his country. After which splendid entertainments are made, where
+the celebrated musician and poet, Demodocus, plays and sings to the
+guests. They next proceed to the games, the race, the wrestling,
+discus, &c., where Ulysses casts a prodigious length, to the admiration
+of all the spectators. They return again to the banquet and Demodocus
+sings the loves of Mars and Venus. Ulysses, after a compliment to the
+poet, desires him to sing the introduction of the wooden horse into
+Troy, which subject provoking his tears, Alcinous inquires of his guest
+his name, parentage, and fortunes.
+
+
+Now fair Aurora lifts her golden ray,
+And all the ruddy orient flames with day:
+Alcinous, and the chief, with dawning light,
+Rose instant from the slumbers of the night;
+Then to the council-seat they bend their way,
+And fill the shining thrones along the bay.
+
+Meanwhile Minerva, in her guardian care,
+Shoots from the starry vault through fields of air;
+In form, a herald of the king, she flies
+From peer to peer, and thus incessant cries;
+
+“Nobles and chiefs who rule Phæacia’s states,
+The king in council your attendance waits;
+A prince of grace divine your aid implores,
+O’er unknown seas arrived from unknown shores.”
+
+She spoke, and sudden with tumultuous sounds
+Of thronging multitudes the shore rebounds:
+At once the seats they fill; and every eye
+Glazed, as before some brother of the sky.
+Pallas with grace divine his form improves,
+More high he treads, and more enlarged he moves:
+She sheds celestial bloom, regard to draw;
+And gives a dignity of mien, to awe;
+With strength, the future prize of fame to play,
+And gather all the honours of the day.
+
+Then from his glittering throne Alcinous rose;
+“Attend (he cried) while we our will disclose.
+Your present aid this godlike stranger craves,
+Toss’d by rude tempest through a war of waves;
+Perhaps from realms that view the rising day,
+Or nations subject to the western ray.
+Then grant, what here all sons of woe obtain
+(For here affliction never pleads in vain);
+Be chosen youth prepared, expert to try
+The vast profound and bid the vessel fly;
+Launch the tall back, and order every oar;
+Then in our court indulge the genial hour.
+Instant, you sailors to this task attend;
+Swift to the palace, all ye peers ascend;
+Let none to strangers honours due disclaim:
+Be there Demodocus the bard of fame,
+Taught by the gods to please, when high he sings
+The vocal lay, responsive to the strings.”
+
+Thus spoke the prince; the attending peers obey;
+In state they move; Alcinous heads the way
+Swift to Demodocus the herald flies,
+At once the sailors to their charge arise;
+They launch the vessel, and unfurl the sails,
+And stretch the swelling canvas to the gales;
+Then to the palace move: a gathering throng,
+Youth, and white age, tumultuous pour along.
+Now all accesses to the dome are fill’d;
+Eight boars, the choicest of the herd, are kill’d;
+Two beeves, twelve fatlings, from the flock they bring
+To crown the feast; so wills the bounteous king.
+The herald now arrives, and guides along
+The sacred master of celestial song;
+Dear to the Muse! who gave his days to flow
+With mighty blessings, mix’d with mighty woe;
+With clouds of darkness quench’d his visual ray,
+But gave him skill to raise the lofty lay.
+High on a radiant throne sublime in state,
+Encircled by huge multitudes, he sate;
+With silver shone the throne; his lyre, well strung
+To rapturous sounds, at hand Poutonous hung.
+Before his seat a polish’d table shines,
+And a full goblet foams with generous wines;
+His food a herald bore; and now they fed;
+And now the rage of craving hunger fled.
+
+Then, fired by all the Muse, aloud he sings
+The mighty deeds of demigods and kings;
+From that fierce wrath the noble song arose,
+That made Ulysses and Achilles foes;
+How o’er the feast they doom the fall of Troy;
+The stern debate Atrides hears with joy;
+For Heaven foretold the contest, when he trod
+The marble threshold of the Delphic god,
+Curious to learn the counsels of the sky,
+Ere yet he loosed the rage of war on Troy.
+
+Touch’d at the song, Ulysses straight resign’d
+To soft affliction all his manly mind.
+Before his eyes the purple vest he drew,
+Industrious to conceal the falling dew;
+But when the music paused, he ceased to shed
+The flowing tear, and raised his drooping head;
+And, lifting to the gods a goblet crown’d,
+He pour’d a pure libation to the ground.
+
+Transported with the song, the listening train
+Again with loud applause demand the strain;
+Again Ulysses veil’d his pensive head.
+Again unmann’d, a shower of sorrows shed;
+Conceal’d he wept; the king observed alone
+The silent tear, and heard the secret groan;
+Then to the bard aloud—“O cease to sing,
+Dumb be thy voice and mute the harmonious string;
+Enough the feast has pleased, enough the power
+Of heavenly song has crown’d the genial hour!
+Incessant in the games your strength display,
+Contest, ye brave the honours of the day!
+That pleased the admiring stranger may proclaim
+In distant regions the Phæacian fame:
+None wield the gauntlet with so dire a sway,
+Or swifter in the race devour the way;
+None in the leap spring with so strong a bound,
+Or firmer, in the wrestling, press the ground.”
+
+Thus spoke the king; the attending peers obey;
+In state they move, Alcinous lends the way;
+His golden lyre Demodocus unstrung,
+High on a column in the palace hung;
+And guided by a herald’s guardian cares,
+Majestic to the lists of Fame repairs.
+
+Now swarms the populace: a countless throng,
+Youth and hoar age; and man drives man along.
+The games begin; ambitious of the prize,
+Acroneus, Thoon, and Eretmeus rise;
+The prize Ocyalus and Prymneus claim,
+Anchialus and Ponteus, chiefs of fame.
+There Proreus, Nautes, Eratreus, appear
+And famed Amphialus, Polyneus’ heir;
+Euryalus, like Mars terrific, rose,
+When clad in wrath he withers hosts of foes;
+Naubolides with grace unequall’d shone,
+Or equall’d by Laodamas alone.
+With these came forth Ambasineus the strong:
+And three brave sons, from great Alcinous sprung.
+
+Ranged in a line the ready racers stand,
+Start from the goal, and vanish o’er the strand:
+Swift as on wings of winds, upborne they fly,
+And drifts of rising dust involve the sky.
+Before the rest, what space the hinds allow
+Between the mule and ox, from plough to plough,
+Clytonius sprung: he wing’d the rapid way,
+And bore the unrivall’d honours of the day.
+With fierce embrace the brawny wrestlers join;
+The conquest, great Euryalus, is thine.
+Amphialus sprung forward with a bound,
+Superior in the leap, a length of ground.
+From Elatreus’ strong arm the discus flies,
+And sings with unmatch’d force along the skies.
+And Laodam whirls high, with dreadful sway,
+The gloves of death, victorious in the fray.
+
+While thus the peerage in the games contends,
+In act to speak, Laodamas ascends.
+
+“O friends (he cries), the stranger seems well skill’d
+To try the illustrious labours of the field:
+I deem him brave: then grant the brave man’s claim,
+Invite the hero to his share of fame.
+What nervous arms he boasts! how firm his tread!
+His limbs how turn’d! how broad his shoulders spread!
+By age unbroke!—but all-consuming care
+Destroys perhaps the strength that time would spare:
+Dire is the ocean, dread in all its forms!
+Man must decay when man contends with storms.”
+
+“Well hast thou spoke (Euryalus replies):
+Thine is the guest, invite him thou to rise.”
+Swift as the word, advancing from the crowd,
+He made obeisance, and thus spoke aloud:
+
+“Vouchsafes the reverend stranger to display
+His manly worth, and share the glorious day?
+Father, arise! for thee thy port proclaims
+Expert to conquer in the solemn games.
+To fame arise! for what more fame can yield
+Than the swift race, or conflict of the field?
+Steal from corroding care one transient day,
+To glory give the space thou hast to stay;
+Short is the time, and lo! e’en now the gales
+Call thee aboard, and stretch the swelling sails.”
+
+To whom with sighs Ulysses gave reply:
+“Ah why the ill-suiting pastime must I try?
+To gloomy care my thoughts alone are free;
+Ill the gay sports with troubled hearts agree;
+Sad from my natal hour my days have ran,
+A much-afflicted, much-enduring man!
+Who, suppliant to the king and peers, implores
+A speedy voyage to his native shore.”
+
+“Wide wanders, Laodam, thy erring tongue
+The sports of glory to the brave belong
+(Retorts Euryalus): he bears no claim
+Among the great, unlike the sons of Fame.
+A wandering merchant he frequents the main
+Some mean seafarer in pursuit of gain;
+Studious of freight, in naval trade well skill’d,
+But dreads the athletic labours of the field.”
+
+Incensed, Ulysses with a frown replies:
+“O forward to proclaim thy soul unwise!
+With partial hands the gods their gifts dispense;
+Some greatly think, some speak with manly sense;
+Here Heaven an elegance of form denies,
+But wisdom the defect of form supplies;
+This man with energy of thought controls,
+And steals with modest violence our souls;
+He speaks reservedly, but he speaks with force,
+Nor can one word be changed but for a worse;
+In public more than mortal he appears,
+And as he moves, the praising crowd reveres;
+While others, beauteous as the etherial kind,
+The nobler portion went, a knowing mind,
+In outward show Heaven gives thee to excel.
+But Heaven denies the praise of thinking well
+I’ll bear the brave a rude ungovern’d tongue,
+And, youth, my generous soul resents the wrong.
+Skill’d in heroic exercise, I claim
+A post of honour with the sons of Fame.
+Such was my boast while vigour crown’d my days,
+Now care surrounds me, and my force decays;
+Inured a melancholy part to bear
+In scenes of death, by tempest and by war
+Yet thus by woes impair’d, no more I waive
+To prove the hero—slander stings the brave.”
+
+Then gliding forward with a furious bound
+He wrench’d a rocky fragment from the ground
+By far more ponderous, and more huge by far
+Than what Phæacia’s sons discharged in air.
+Fierce from his arm the enormous load he flings;
+Sonorous through the shaded air it sings;
+Couch’d to the earth, tempestuous as it flies,
+The crowd gaze upward while it cleaves the skies.
+Beyond all marks, with many a giddy round
+Down-rushing, it up-turns a hill of ground.
+
+That Instant Pallas, bursting from a cloud,
+Fix’d a distinguish’d mark, and cried aloud:
+
+“E’en he who, sightless, wants his visual ray
+May by his touch alone award the day:
+Thy signal throw transcends the utmost bound
+Of every champion by a length of ground:
+Securely bid the strongest of the train
+Arise to throw; the strongest throws in vain.”
+
+She spoke: and momentary mounts the sky:
+The friendly voice Ulysses hears with joy.
+Then thus aloud (elate with decent pride)
+“Rise, ye Phæacians, try your force (he cried):
+If with this throw the strongest caster vie,
+Still, further still, I bid the discus fly.
+Stand forth, ye champions, who the gauntlet wield,
+Or ye, the swiftest racers of the field!
+Stand forth, ye wrestlers, who these pastimes grace!
+I wield the gauntlet, and I run the race.
+In such heroic games I yield to none,
+Or yield to brave Laodamas alone:
+Shall I with brave Laodamas contend?
+A friend is sacred, and I style him friend.
+Ungenerous were the man, and base of heart,
+Who takes the kind, and pays the ungrateful part:
+Chiefly the man, in foreign realms confined,
+Base to his friend, to his own interest blind:
+All, all your heroes I this day defy;
+Give me a man that we our might may try.
+Expert in every art, I boast the skill
+To give the feather’d arrow wings to kill;
+Should a whole host at once discharge the bow,
+My well-aim’d shaft with death prevents the foe:
+Alone superior in the field of Troy,
+Great Philoctetes taught the shaft to fly.
+From all the sons of earth unrivall’d praise
+I justly claim; but yield to better days,
+To those famed days when great Alcides rose,
+And Eurytus, who bade the gods be foes
+(Vain Eurytus, whose art became his crime,
+Swept from the earth, he perish’d in his prime:
+Sudden the irremeable way he trod,
+Who boldly durst defy the bowyer god).
+In fighting fields as far the spear I throw
+As flies an arrow from the well-drawn bow.
+Sole in the race the contest I decline,
+Stiff are my weary joints, and I resign;
+By storms and hunger worn; age well may fail,
+When storms and hunger doth at once assail.”
+
+Abash’d, the numbers hear the godlike man,
+Till great Alcinous mildly thus began:
+
+“Well hast thou spoke, and well thy generous tongue
+With decent pride refutes a public wrong:
+Warm are thy words, but warm without offence;
+Fear only fools, secure in men of sense;
+Thy worth is known. Then hear our country’s claim,
+And bear to heroes our heroic fame:
+In distant realms our glorious deeds display,
+Repeat them frequent in the genial day;
+When, blest with ease, thy woes and wanderings end,
+Teach them thy consort, bid thy sons attend;
+How, loved of Jove, he crown’d our sires with praise,
+How we their offspring dignify our race.
+
+“Let other realms the deathful gauntlet wield,
+Or boast the glories of the athletic field:
+We in the course unrivall’d speed display,
+Or through cerulean billows plough the way;
+To dress, to dance, to sing, our sole delight,
+The feast or bath by day, and love by night:
+Rise, then, ye skill’d in measures; let him bear
+Your fame to men that breathe a distant air;
+And faithful say, to you the powers belong
+To race, to sail, to dance, to chant the song.
+
+“But, herald, to the palace swift repair,
+And the soft lyre to grace our pastimes bear.”
+
+Swift at the word, obedient to the king,
+The herald flies the tuneful lyre to bring.
+Up rose nine seniors, chosen to survey
+The future games, the judges of the day
+With instant care they mark a spacious round
+And level for the dance the allotted ground:
+The herald bears the lyre: intent to play,
+The bard advancing meditates the lay.
+Skill’d in the dance, tall youths, a blooming band,
+Graceful before the heavenly minstrel stand:
+Light bounding from the earth, at once they rise,
+Their feet half-viewless quiver in the skies:
+Ulysses gazed, astonish’d to survey
+The glancing splendours as their sandals play.
+Meantime the bard, alternate to the strings,
+The loves of Mars and Cytherea sings:
+How the stern god, enamour’d with her charms
+Clasp’d the gay panting goddess in his arms,
+By bribes seduced; and how the sun, whose eye
+Views the broad heavens, disclosed the lawless joy.
+Stung to the soul, indignant through the skies
+To his black forge vindictive Vulcan flies:
+Arrived, his sinewy arms incessant place
+The eternal anvil on the massy base.
+A wondrous net he labours, to betray
+The wanton lovers, as entwined they lay,
+Indissolubly strong; Then instant bears
+To his immortal dome the finish’d snares:
+Above, below, around, with art dispread,
+The sure inclosure folds the genial bed:
+Whose texture even the search of gods deceives,
+Thin as the filmy threads the spider weaves,
+Then, as withdrawing from the starry bowers,
+He feigns a journey to the Lemnian shores,
+His favourite isle: observant Mars descries
+His wish’d recess, and to the goddess flies;
+He glows, he burns, the fair-hair’d queen of love
+Descends, smooth gliding from the courts of Jove,
+Gay blooming in full charms: her hand he press’d
+With eager joy, and with a sigh address’d:
+
+“Come, my beloved! and taste the soft delights:
+Come, to repose the genial bed invites:
+Thy absent spouse, neglectful of thy charms,
+Prefers his barbarous Sintians to thy arms!”
+
+Then, nothing loth, the enamour’d fair he led,
+And sunk transported on the conscious bed.
+Down rush’d the toils, inwrapping as they lay
+The careless lovers in their wanton play:
+In vain they strive; the entangling snares deny
+(Inextricably firm) the power to fly.
+Warn’d by the god who sheds the golden day,
+Stern Vulcan homeward treads the starry way:
+Arrived, he sees, he grieves, with rage he burns:
+Full horribly he roars, his voice all heaven returns.
+
+“O Jove (he cried) O all ye powers above,
+See the lewd dalliance of the queen of love!
+Me, awkward me, she scorns; and yields her charms
+To that fair lecher, the strong god of arms.
+If I am lame, that stain my natal hour
+By fate imposed; such me my parent bore.
+Why was I born? See how the wanton lies!
+Oh sight tormenting to a husband’s eyes!
+But yet, I trust, this once e’en Mars would fly
+His fair-one’s arms—he thinks her, once, too nigh.
+But there remain, ye guilty, in my power,
+Till Jove refunds his shameless daughter’s dower.
+Too dear I prized a fair enchanting face:
+Beauty unchaste is beauty in disgrace.”
+
+Meanwhile the gods the dome of Vulcan throng;
+Apollo comes, and Neptune comes along;
+With these gay Hermes trod the starry plain;
+But modesty withheld the goddess train.
+All heaven beholds, imprison’d as they lie,
+And unextinguish’d laughter shakes the sky.
+Then mutual, thus they spoke: “Behold on wrong
+Swift vengeance waits; and art subdues the strong!
+Dwells there a god on all the Olympian brow
+More swift than Mars, and more than Vulcan slow?
+Yet Vulcan conquers, and the god of arms
+Must pay the penalty for lawless charms.”
+
+Thus serious they; but he who gilds the skies,
+The gay Apollo, thus to Hermes cries:
+“Wouldst thou enchain’d like Mars, O Hermes, lie
+And bear the shame like Mars to share the joy?”
+
+“O envied shame! (the smiling youth rejoin’d;)
+And thrice the chains, and thrice more firmly bind;
+Gaze all ye gods, and every goddess gaze,
+Yet eager would I bless the sweet disgrace.”
+
+Loud laugh the rest, e’en Neptune laughs aloud,
+Yet sues importunate to loose the god.
+“And free, (he cries) O Vulcan! free from shame
+Thy captives; I ensure the penal claim.”
+
+“Will Neptune (Vulcan then) the faithless trust?
+He suffers who gives surety for the unjust:
+But say, if that lewd scandal of the sky,
+To liberty restored, perfidious fly:
+Say, wilt thou bear the mulct?” He instant cries,
+“The mulct I bear, if Mars perfidious flies.”
+
+To whom appeased: “No more I urge delay;
+When Neptune sues, my part is to obey.”
+Then to the snares his force the god applies;
+They burst; and Mars to Thrace indignant flies:
+To the soft Cyprian shores the goddess moves,
+To visit Paphos and her blooming groves,
+Where to the Power an hundred altars rise,
+And breathing odours scent the balmy skies;
+Concealed she bathes in consecrated bowers,
+The Graces unguents shed, ambrosial showers,
+Unguents that charm the gods! she last assumes
+Her wondrous robes; and full the goddess blooms.
+
+Thus sung the bard: Ulysses hears with joy,
+And loud applauses read the vaulted sky.
+
+Then to the sports his sons the king commands,
+Each blooming youth before the monarch stands,
+In dance unmatch’d! A wondrous ball is brought
+(The work of Polypus, divinely wrought);
+This youth with strength enormous bids it fly,
+And bending backward whirls it to the sky;
+His brother, springing with an active bound,
+At distance intercepts it from the ground.
+The ball dismissed, in dance they skim the strand,
+Turn and return, and scarce imprint the sand.
+The assembly gazes with astonished eyes,
+And sends in shouts applauses to the skies.
+
+Then thus Ulysses: “Happy king, whose name
+The brightest shines in all the rolls of fame!
+In subjects happy with surprise I gaze;
+Thy praise was just; their skill transcends thy praise.”
+
+Pleas’d with his people’s fame, the monarch hears,
+And thus benevolent accosts the peers:
+“Since wisdom’s sacred guidance he pursues,
+Give to the stranger-guest a stranger’s dues:
+Twelve princes in our realm dominion share,
+O’er whom supreme, imperial power I bear;
+Bring gold, a pledge of love: a talent bring,
+A vest, a robe, and imitate your king.
+Be swift to give: that he this night may share
+The social feast of joy, with joy sincere.
+And thou, Euryalus, redeem thy wrong;
+A generous heart repairs a slanderous tongue.”
+
+The assenting peers, obedient to the king,
+In haste their heralds send the gifts to bring.
+Then thus Euryalus: “O prince, whose sway
+Rules this bless’d realm, repentant I obey;
+Be his this sword, whose blade of brass displays
+A ruddy gleam; whose hilt a silver blaze;
+Whose ivory sheath, inwrought with curious pride,
+Adds graceful terror to the wearer’s side.”
+
+He said, and to his hand the sword consign’d:
+“And if (he cried) my words affect thy mind,
+Far from thy mind those words, ye whirlwinds, bear,
+And scatter them, ye storms, in empty air!
+Crown, O ye heavens, with joy his peaceful hours,
+And grant him to his spouse, and native shores.”
+
+“And blest be thou, my friend, (Ulysses cries,)
+Crown him with every joy, ye favouring skies
+To thy calm hours continued peace afford,
+And never, never mayst thou want this sword,”
+
+He said, and o’er his shoulder flung the blade.
+Now o’er the earth ascends the evening shade:
+The precious gifts the illustrious heralds bear,
+And to the court the embodied peers repair.
+Before the queen Alcinous’ sons unfold
+The vests, the robes, and heaps of shining gold;
+Then to the radiant thrones they move in state:
+Aloft, the king in pomp imperial sate.
+
+Thence to the queen: “O partner of our reign,
+O sole beloved! command thy menial train
+A polish’d chest and stately robes to bear,
+And healing waters for the bath prepare;
+That, bathed, our guest may bid his sorrows cease,
+Hear the sweet song, and taste the feast in peace.
+A bowl that flames with gold, of wondrous frame,
+Ourself we give, memorial of our name;
+To raise in offerings to almighty Jove,
+And every god that treads the courts above.”
+
+Instant the queen, observant of the king,
+Commands her train a spacious vase to bring,
+The spacious vase with ample streams suffice,
+Heap the high wood, and bid the flames arise.
+The flames climb round it with a fierce embrace,
+The fuming waters bubble o’er the blaze.
+Herself the chest prepares; in order roll’d
+The robes, the vests are ranged, and heaps of gold
+And adding a rich dress inwrought with art,
+A gift expressive of her bounteous heart.
+Thus spoke to Ithacus: “To guard with bands
+Insolvable these gifts, thy care demands;
+Lest, in thy slumbers on the watery main,
+The hand of rapine make our bounty vain.”
+
+Then bending with full force around he roll’d
+A labyrinth of bands in fold on fold,
+Closed with Circaean art. A train attends
+Around the bath: the bath the king ascends
+(Untasted joy, since that disastrous hour,
+He sail’d ill-fated from Calypso’s bower);
+Where, happy as the gods that range the sky,
+He feasted every sense with every joy.
+He bathes; the damsels with officious toil,
+Shed sweets, shed unguents, in a shower of oil;
+Then o’er his limbs a gorgeous robe he spreads,
+And to the feast magnificently treads.
+Full where the dome its shining valves expands,
+Nausicaa blooming as a goddess stands;
+With wondering eyes the hero she survey’d,
+And graceful thus began the royal maid:
+
+“Hail, godlike stranger! and when heaven restores
+To thy fond wish thy long-expected shores,
+This ever grateful in remembrance bear:
+To me thou owest, to me, the vital air.”
+
+“O royal maid! (Ulysses straight returns)
+Whose worth the splendours of thy race adorns,
+So may dread Jove (whose arm in vengeance forms
+The writhen bolt, and blackens heaven with storms),
+Restore me safe, through weary wanderings toss’d,
+To my dear country’s ever-pleasing coast,
+As while the spirit in this bosom glows,
+To thee, my goddess, I address my vows;
+My life, thy gift I boast!” He said, and sate
+Fast by Alcinous on a throne of state.
+
+Now each partakes the feast, the wine prepares,
+Portions the food, and each his portion shares.
+The bard a herald guides; the gazing throng
+Pay low obeisance as he moves along:
+Beneath a sculptur’d arch he sits enthroned,
+The peers encircling form an awful round.
+Then, from the chine, Ulysses carves with art
+Delicious food, an honorary part:
+“This, let the master of the lyre receive,
+A pledge of love! ’tis all a wretch can give.
+Lives there a man beneath the spacious skies
+Who sacred honours to the bard denies?
+The Muse the bard inspires, exalts his mind;
+The muse indulgent loves the harmonious kind.”
+
+The herald to his hand the charge conveys,
+Not fond of flattery, nor unpleased with praise.
+
+When now the rage of hunger was allay’d,
+Thus to the lyrist wise Ulysses said:
+“O more than man! thy soul the muse inspires,
+Or Phœbus animates with all his fires;
+For who, by Phœbus uninform’d, could know
+The woe of Greece, and sing so well the woe?
+Just to the tale, as present at the fray,
+Or taught the labours of the dreadful day:
+The song recalls past horrors to my eyes,
+And bids proud Ilion from her ashes rise.
+Once more harmonious strike the sounding string,
+The Epaean fabric, framed by Pallas, sing:
+How stern Ulysses, furious to destroy,
+With latent heroes sack’d imperial Troy.
+If faithful thou record the tale of Fame,
+The god himself inspires thy breast with flame
+And mine shall be the task henceforth to raise
+In every land thy monument of praise.”
+
+Full of the god he raised his lofty strain:
+How the Greeks rush’d tumultuous to the main;
+How blazing tents illumined half the skies,
+While from the shores the winged navy flies;
+How e’en in Ilion’s walls, in deathful bands,
+Came the stern Greeks by Troy’s assisting hands:
+All Troy up-heaved the steed; of differing mind,
+Various the Trojans counsell’d: part consign’d
+The monster to the sword, part sentence gave
+To plunge it headlong in the whelming wave;
+The unwise award to lodge it in the towers,
+An offering sacred to the immortal powers:
+The unwise prevail, they lodge it in the walls,
+And by the gods’ decree proud Ilion falls:
+Destruction enters in the treacherous wood,
+And vengeful slaughter, fierce for human blood.
+
+He sung the Greeks stern-issuing from the steed,
+How Ilion burns, how all her fathers bleed;
+How to thy dome, Deiphobus! ascends
+The Spartan king; how Ithacus attends
+(Horrid as Mars); and how with dire alarms
+He fights—subdues, for Pallas strings his arms
+
+Thus while he sung, Ulysses’ griefs renew,
+Tears bathe his cheeks, and tears the ground bedew
+As some fond matron views in mortal fight
+Her husband falling in his country’s right;
+Frantic through clashing swords she runs, she flies,
+As ghastly pale he groans, and faints and dies;
+Close to his breast she grovels on the ground,
+And bathes with floods of tears the gaping wound;
+She cries, she shrieks: the fierce insulting foe
+Relentless mocks her violence of woe:
+To chains condemn’d, as wildly she deplores;
+A widow, and a slave on foreign shores.
+
+So from the sluices of Ulysses’ eyes
+Fast fell the tears, and sighs succeeded sighs:
+Conceal’d he grieved: the king observed alone
+The silent tear, and heard the secret groan;
+Then to the bard aloud: “O cease to sing,
+Dumb be thy voice, and mute the tuneful string;
+To every note his tears responsive flow,
+And his great heart heaves with tumultuous woe;
+Thy lay too deeply moves: then cease the lay,
+And o’er the banquet every heart be gay:
+This social right demands: for him the sails,
+Floating in air, invite the impelling gales:
+His are the gifts of love: the wise and good
+Receive the stranger as a brother’s blood.
+
+“But, friend, discover faithful what I crave;
+Artful concealment ill becomes the brave:
+Say what thy birth, and what the name you bore,
+Imposed by parents in the natal hour?
+(For from the natal hour distinctive names,
+One common right, the great and lowly claims:)
+Say from what city, from what regions toss’d,
+And what inhabitants those regions boast?
+So shalt thou instant reach the realm assign’d,
+In wondrous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind;
+No helm secures their course, no pilot guides;
+Like man intelligent, they plough the tides,
+Conscious of every coast, and every bay,
+That lies beneath the sun’s all-seeing ray;
+Though clouds and darkness veil the encumber’d sky,
+Fearless through darkness and through clouds they fly;
+Though tempests rage, though rolls the swelling main,
+The seas may roll, the tempests rage in vain;
+E’en the stern god that o’er the waves presides,
+Safe as they pass, and safe repass the tides,
+With fury burns; while careless they convey
+Promiscuous every guest to every bay,
+These ears have heard my royal sire disclose
+A dreadful story, big with future woes;
+How Neptune raged, and how, by his command,
+Firm rooted in a surge a ship should stand
+A monument of wrath; how mound on mound
+Should bury these proud towers beneath the ground.
+But this the gods may frustrate or fulfil,
+As suits the purpose of the Eternal Will.
+But say through what waste regions hast thou stray’d
+What customs noted, and what coasts survey’d;
+Possess’d by wild barbarians fierce in arms,
+Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?
+Say why the fate of Troy awaked thy cares,
+Why heaved thy bosom, and why flowed thy tears?
+Just are the ways of Heaven: from Heaven proceed
+The woes of man; Heaven doom’d the Greeks to bleed,
+A theme of future song! Say, then, if slain
+Some dear-loved brother press’d the Phrygian plain?
+Or bled some friend, who bore a brother’s part,
+And claim’d by merit, not by blood, the heart?”
+
+
+
+
+BOOK IX.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE ADVENTURES OF THE CICONS, LOTOPHAGI AND CYCLOPS.
+
+
+Ulysses begins the relation of his adventures: how, after the
+destruction of Troy, he with his companions made an incursion on the
+Cicons, by whom they were repulsed; and, meeting with a storm, were
+driven to the coast of the Lotophagi. From there they sailed to the
+land of the Cyclops, whose manners and situation are particularly
+characterised. The giant Polyphemus and his cave described; the usage
+Ulysses and his companions met with there; and, lastly, the method and
+artifice by which he escaped.
+
+
+Then thus Ulysses: “Thou whom first in sway,
+As first in virtue, these thy realms obey;
+How sweet the products of a peaceful reign!
+The heaven-taught poet and enchanting strain;
+The well-filled palace, the perpetual feast,
+A land rejoicing, and a people bless’d!
+How goodly seems it ever to employ
+Man’s social days in union and in joy;
+The plenteous hoard high-heap’d with cates divine,
+And o’er the foaming bowl the laughing wine!
+
+“Amid these joys, why seeks thy mind to know
+The unhappy series of a wanderer’s woe?
+Rememberance sad, whose image to review,
+Alas, I must open all my wounds anew!
+And oh, what first, what last shall I relate,
+Of woes unnumbered sent by Heaven and Fate?
+
+“Know first the man (though now a wretch distress’d)
+Who hopes thee, monarch, for his future guest.
+Behold Ulysses! no ignoble name,
+Earth sounds my wisdom and high heaven my fame.
+
+“My native soil is Ithaca the fair,
+Where high Neritus waves his woods in air;
+Dulichium, Same and Zaccynthus crown’d
+With shady mountains spread their isles around.
+(These to the north and night’s dark regions run,
+Those to Aurora and the rising sun).
+Low lies our isle, yet bless’d in fruitful stores;
+Strong are her sons, though rocky are her shores;
+And none, ah none no lovely to my sight,
+Of all the lands that heaven o’erspreads with light.
+In vain Calypso long constrained my stay,
+With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay;
+With all her charms as vainly Circe strove,
+And added magic to secure my love.
+In pomps or joys, the palace or the grot,
+My country’s image never was forgot;
+My absent parents rose before my sight,
+And distant lay contentment and delight.
+
+“Hear, then, the woes which mighty Jove ordain’d
+To wait my passage from the Trojan land.
+The winds from Ilion to the Cicons’ shore,
+Beneath cold Ismarus our vessels bore.
+We boldly landed on the hostile place,
+And sack’d the city, and destroy’d the race,
+Their wives made captive, their possessions shared,
+And every soldier found a like reward
+I then advised to fly; not so the rest,
+Who stay’d to revel, and prolong the feast:
+The fatted sheep and sable bulls they slay,
+And bowls flow round, and riot wastes the day.
+Meantime the Cicons, to their holds retired,
+Call on the Cicons, with new fury fired;
+With early morn the gather’d country swarms,
+And all the continent is bright with arms;
+Thick as the budding leaves or rising flowers
+O’erspread the land, when spring descends in showers:
+All expert soldiers, skill’d on foot to dare,
+Or from the bounding courser urge the war.
+Now fortune changes (so the Fates ordain);
+Our hour was come to taste our share of pain.
+Close at the ships the bloody fight began,
+Wounded they wound, and man expires on man.
+Long as the morning sun increasing bright
+O’er heaven’s pure azure spreads the glowing light,
+Promiscuous death the form of war confounds,
+Each adverse battle gored with equal wounds;
+But when his evening wheels o’erhung the main,
+Then conquest crown’d the fierce Ciconian train.
+Six brave companions from each ship we lost,
+The rest escape in haste, and quit the coast,
+With sails outspread we fly the unequal strife,
+Sad for their loss, but joyful of our life.
+Yet as we fled, our fellows’ rites we paid,
+And thrice we call’d on each unhappy shade,
+
+“Meanwhile the god, whose hand the thunder forms,
+Drives clouds on clouds, and blackens heaven with storms:
+Wide o’er the waste the rage of Boreas sweeps,
+And night rush’d headlong on the shaded deeps.
+Now here, now there, the giddy ships are borne,
+And all the rattling shrouds in fragments torn.
+We furl’d the sail, we plied the labouring oar,
+Took down our masts, and row’d our ships to shore.
+Two tedious days and two long nights we lay,
+O’erwatch’d and batter’d in the naked bay.
+But the third morning when Aurora brings,
+We rear the masts, we spread the canvas wings;
+Refresh’d and careless on the deck reclined,
+We sit, and trust the pilot and the wind.
+Then to my native country had I sail’d:
+But, the cape doubled, adverse winds prevail’d.
+Strong was the tide, which by the northern blast
+Impell’d, our vessels on Cythera cast,
+Nine days our fleet the uncertain tempest bore
+Far in wide ocean, and from sight of shore:
+The tenth we touch’d, by various errors toss’d,
+The land of Lotus and the flowery coast.
+We climb’d the beach, and springs of water found,
+Then spread our hasty banquet on the ground.
+Three men were sent, deputed from the crew
+(A herald one) the dubious coast to view,
+And learn what habitants possess’d the place.
+They went, and found a hospitable race:
+Not prone to ill, nor strange to foreign guest,
+They eat, they drink, and nature gives the feast
+The trees around them all their food produce:
+Lotus the name: divine, nectareous juice!
+(Thence call’d Lotophagi); which whose tastes,
+Insatiate riots in the sweet repasts,
+Nor other home, nor other care intends,
+But quits his house, his country, and his friends.
+The three we sent, from off the enchanting ground
+We dragg’d reluctant, and by force we bound.
+The rest in haste forsook the pleasing shore,
+Or, the charm tasted, had return’d no more.
+Now placed in order on their banks, they sweep
+The sea’s smooth face, and cleave the hoary deep:
+With heavy hearts we labour through the tide,
+To coasts unknown, and oceans yet untried.
+
+“The land of Cyclops first, a savage kind,
+Nor tamed by manners, nor by laws confined:
+Untaught to plant, to turn the glebe, and sow,
+They all their products to free nature owe:
+The soil, untill’d, a ready harvest yields,
+With wheat and barley wave the golden fields;
+Spontaneous wines from weighty clusters pour,
+And Jove descends in each prolific shower,
+By these no statues and no rights are known,
+No council held, no monarch fills the throne;
+But high on hills, or airy cliffs, they dwell,
+Or deep in caves whose entrance leads to hell.
+Each rules his race, his neighbour not his care,
+Heedless of others, to his own severe.
+
+“Opposed to the Cyclopean coast, there lay
+An isle, whose hill their subject fields survey;
+Its name Lachaea, crown’d with many a grove,
+Where savage goats through pathless thickets rove:
+No needy mortals here, with hunger bold,
+Or wretched hunters through the wintry cold
+Pursue their flight; but leave them safe to bound
+From hill to hill, o’er all the desert ground.
+Nor knows the soil to feed the fleecy care,
+Or feels the labours of the crooked share;
+But uninhabited, untill’d, unsown,
+It lies, and breeds the bleating goat alone.
+For there no vessel with vermilion prore,
+Or bark of traffic, glides from shore to shore;
+The rugged race of savages, unskill’d
+The seas to traverse, or the ships to build,
+Gaze on the coast, nor cultivate the soil,
+Unlearn’d in all the industrious art of toil,
+Yet here all products and all plants abound,
+Sprung from the fruitful genius of the ground;
+Fields waving high with heavy crops are seen,
+And vines that flourish in eternal green,
+Refreshing meads along the murmuring main,
+And fountains streaming down the fruitful plain.
+
+“A port there is, inclosed on either side,
+Where ships may rest, unanchor’d and untied;
+Till the glad mariners incline to sail,
+And the sea whitens with the rising gale,
+High at the head, from out the cavern’d rock,
+In living rills a gushing fountain broke:
+Around it, and above, for ever green,
+The busy alders form’d a shady scene;
+Hither some favouring god, beyond our thought,
+Through all surrounding shade our navy brought;
+For gloomy night descended on the main,
+Nor glimmer’d Phoebe in the ethereal plain:
+But all unseen the clouded island lay,
+And all unseen the surge and rolling sea,
+Till safe we anchor’d in the shelter’d bay:
+Our sails we gather’d, cast our cables o’er,
+And slept secure along the sandy shore.
+Soon as again the rosy morning shone,
+Reveal’d the landscape and the scene unknown,
+With wonder seized, we view the pleasing ground,
+And walk delighted, and expatiate round.
+Roused by the woodland nymphs at early dawn,
+The mountain goats came bounding o’er the lawn:
+In haste our fellows to the ships repair,
+For arms and weapons of the sylvan war;
+Straight in three squadrons all our crew we part,
+And bend the bow, or wing the missile dart;
+The bounteous gods afford a copious prey,
+And nine fat goats each vessel bears away:
+The royal bark had ten. Our ships complete
+We thus supplied (for twelve were all the fleet).
+
+“Here, till the setting sun roll’d down the light,
+We sat indulging in the genial rite:
+Nor wines were wanting; those from ample jars
+We drain’d, the prize of our Ciconian wars.
+The land of Cyclops lay in prospect near:
+The voice of goats and bleating flocks we hear,
+And from their mountains rising smokes appear.
+Now sunk the sun, and darkness cover’d o’er
+The face of things: along the sea-beat shore
+Satiate we slept: but, when the sacred dawn
+Arising glitter’d o’er the dewy lawn,
+I call’d my fellows, and these words address’d
+‘My dear associates, here indulge your rest;
+While, with my single ship, adventurous, I
+Go forth, the manners of yon men to try;
+Whether a race unjust, of barbarous might,
+Rude and unconscious of a stranger’s right;
+Or such who harbour pity in their breast,
+Revere the gods, and succour the distress’d,’
+
+“This said, I climb’d my vessel’s lofty side;
+My train obey’d me, and the ship untied.
+In order seated on their banks, they sweep
+Neptune’s smooth face, and cleave the yielding deep.
+When to the nearest verge of land we drew,
+Fast by the sea a lonely cave we view,
+High, and with darkening laurels covered o’er;
+Where sheep and goats lay slumbering round the shore:
+Near this, a fence of marble from the rock,
+Brown with o’erarching pine and spreading oak.
+A giant shepherd here his flock maintains
+Far from the rest, and solitary reigns,
+In shelter thick of horrid shade reclined;
+And gloomy mischiefs labour in his mind.
+A form enormous! far unlike the race
+Of human birth, in stature, or in face;
+As some lone mountain’s monstrous growth he stood,
+Crown’d with rough thickets, and a nodding wood.
+I left my vessel at the point of land,
+And close to guard it, gave our crew command:
+With only twelve, the boldest and the best,
+I seek the adventure, and forsake the rest.
+Then took a goatskin fill’d with precious wine,
+The gift of Maron of Evantheus’ line
+(The priest of Phœbus at the Ismarian shrine).
+In sacred shade his honour’d mansion stood
+Amidst Apollo’s consecrated wood;
+Him, and his house, Heaven moved my mind to save,
+And costly presents in return he gave;
+Seven golden talents to perfection wrought,
+A silver bowl that held a copious draught,
+And twelve large vessels of unmingled wine,
+Mellifluous, undecaying, and divine!
+Which now, some ages from his race conceal’d,
+The hoary sire in gratitude reveal’d.
+Such was the wine: to quench whose fervent steam
+Scarce twenty measures from the living stream
+To cool one cup sufficed: the goblet crown’d
+Breathed aromatic fragrances around.
+Of this an ample vase we heaved aboard,
+And brought another with provisions stored.
+My soul foreboded I should find the bower
+Of some fell monster, fierce with barbarous power;
+Some rustic wretch, who lived in Heaven’s despite,
+Contemning laws, and trampling on the right.
+The cave we found, but vacant all within
+(His flock the giant tended on the green):
+But round the grot we gaze; and all we view,
+In order ranged our admiration drew:
+The bending shelves with loads of cheeses press’d,
+The folded flocks each separate from the rest
+(The larger here, and there the lesser lambs,
+The new-fallen young here bleating for their dams:
+The kid distinguish’d from the lambkin lies);
+The cavern echoes with responsive cries.
+Capacious chargers all around were laid.
+Full pails, and vessels of the milking trade.
+With fresh provisions hence our fleet to store
+My friends advise me, and to quit the shore.
+Or drive a flock of sheep and goats away,
+Consult our safety, and put off to sea.
+Their wholesome counsel rashly I declined,
+Curious to view the man of monstrous kind,
+And try what social rites a savage lends:
+Dire rites, alas! and fatal to my friends
+
+“Then first a fire we kindle, and prepare
+For his return with sacrifice and prayer;
+The loaden shelves afford us full repast;
+We sit expecting. Lo! he comes at last,
+Near half a forest on his back he bore,
+And cast the ponderous burden at the door.
+It thunder’d as it fell. We trembled then,
+And sought the deep recesses of the den.
+New driven before him through the arching rock,
+Came tumbling, heaps on heaps, the unnumber’d flock.
+Big-udder’d ewes, and goats of female kind
+(The males were penn’d in outward courts behind);
+Then, heaved on high, a rock’s enormous weight
+To the cave’s mouth he roll’d, and closed the gate
+(Scarce twenty four-wheel’d cars, compact and strong,
+The massy load could bear, or roll along).
+He next betakes him to his evening cares,
+And, sitting down, to milk his flocks prepares;
+Of half their udders eases first the dams,
+Then to the mother’s teat submits the lambs;
+Half the white stream to hardening cheese be press’d,
+And high in wicker-baskets heap’d: the rest,
+Reserved in bowls, supplied his nightly feast.
+His labour done, he fired the pile, that gave
+A sudden blaze, and lighted all the cave.
+We stand discover’d by the rising fires;
+Askance the giant glares, and thus inquires:
+
+“‘What are ye, guests? on what adventure, say,
+Thus far ye wander through the watery way?
+Pirates perhaps, who seek through seas unknown
+The lives of others, and expose your own?’
+
+“His voice like thunder through the cavern sounds;
+My bold companions thrilling fear confounds,
+Appall’d at sight of more than mortal man!
+At length, with heart recover’d, I began:
+
+“‘From Troy’s famed fields, sad wanderers o’er the main,
+Behold the relics of the Grecian train:
+Through various seas, by various perils toss’d,
+And forced by storms, unwilling on your coast;
+Far from our destined course and native land,
+Such was our fate, and such high Jove’s command!
+Nor what we are befits us to disclaim,
+Atrides’ friends (in arms a mighty name),
+Who taught proud Troy and all her sons to bow;
+Victors of late, but humble suppliants now!
+Low at thy knee thy succour we implore;
+Respect us, human, and relieve us, poor.
+At least, some hospitable gift bestow;
+’Tis what the happy to the unhappy owe;
+’Tis what the gods require: those gods revere;
+The poor and stranger are their constant care;
+To Jove their cause, and their revenge belongs,
+He wanders with them, and he feels their wrongs.”
+
+“‘Fools that ye are (the savage thus replies,
+His inward fury blazing at his eyes),
+Or strangers, distant far from our abodes,
+To bid me reverence or regard the gods.
+Know then, we Cyclops are a race above
+Those air-bred people, and their goat-nursed Jove;
+And learn, our power proceeds with thee and thine,
+Not as he wills, but as ourselves incline.
+But answer, the good ship that brought ye o’er,
+Where lies she anchor’d? near or off the shore?’
+
+“Thus he. His meditated fraud I find
+(Versed in the turns of various human-kind):
+And, cautious thus: ‘Against a dreadful rock,
+Fast by your shore the gallant vessel broke.
+Scarce with these few I ’scaped; of all my train,
+Whom angry Neptune, whelm’d beneath the main,
+The scattered wreck the winds blew back again.’
+
+“He answer’d with his deed: his bloody hand
+Snatch’d two, unhappy! of my martial band;
+And dash’d like dogs against the stony floor:
+The pavement swims with brains and mingled gore.
+Torn limb from limb, he spreads his horrid feast,
+And fierce devours it like a mountain beast:
+He sucks the marrow, and the blood he drains,
+Nor entrails, flesh, nor solid bone remains.
+We see the death from which we cannot move,
+And humbled groan beneath the hand of Jove.
+His ample maw with human carnage fill’d,
+A milky deluge next the giant swill’d;
+Then stretch’d in length o’er half the cavern’d rock,
+Lay senseless, and supine, amidst the flock.
+To seize the time, and with a sudden wound
+To fix the slumbering monster to the ground,
+My soul impels me! and in act I stand
+To draw the sword; but wisdom held my hand.
+A deed so rash had finished all our fate,
+No mortal forces from the lofty gate
+Could roll the rock. In hopeless grief we lay,
+And sigh, expecting the return of day.
+Now did the rosy-fingered morn arise,
+And shed her sacred light along the skies;
+He wakes, he lights the fire, he milks the dams,
+And to the mother’s teats submits the lambs.
+The task thus finish’d of his morning hours,
+Two more he snatches, murders, and devours.
+Then pleased, and whistling, drives his flock before,
+Removes the rocky mountain from the door,
+And shuts again: with equal ease disposed,
+As a light quiver’s lid is oped and closed.
+His giant voice the echoing region fills:
+His flocks, obedient, spread o’er all the hills.
+
+“Thus left behind, even in the last despair
+I thought, devised, and Pallas heard my prayer.
+Revenge, and doubt, and caution, work’d my breast;
+But this of many counsels seem’d the best:
+The monster’s club within the cave I spied,
+A tree of stateliest growth, and yet undried,
+Green from the wood: of height and bulk so vast,
+The largest ship might claim it for a mast.
+This shorten’d of its top, I gave my train
+A fathom’s length, to shape it and to plane;
+The narrower end I sharpen’d to a spire,
+Whose point we harden’d with the force of fire,
+And hid it in the dust that strew’d the cave,
+Then to my few companions, bold and brave,
+Proposed, who first the venturous deed should try,
+In the broad orbit of his monstrous eye
+To plunge the brand and twirl the pointed wood,
+When slumber next should tame the man of blood.
+Just as I wished, the lots were cast on four:
+Myself the fifth. We stand and wait the hour.
+He comes with evening: all his fleecy flock
+Before him march, and pour into the rock:
+Not one, or male or female, stayed behind
+(So fortune chanced, or so some god designed);
+Then heaving high the stone’s unwieldy weight,
+He roll’d it on the cave and closed the gate.
+First down he sits, to milk the woolly dams,
+And then permits their udder to the lambs.
+Next seized two wretches more, and headlong cast,
+Brain’d on the rock; his second dire repast.
+I then approach’d him reeking with their gore,
+And held the brimming goblet foaming o’er;
+‘Cyclop! since human flesh has been thy feast,
+Now drain this goblet, potent to digest;
+Know hence what treasures in our ship we lost,
+And what rich liquors other climates boast.
+We to thy shore the precious freight shall bear,
+If home thou send us and vouchsafe to spare.
+But oh! thus furious, thirsting thus for gore,
+The sons of men shall ne’er approach thy shore,
+And never shalt thou taste this nectar more,’
+
+“He heard, he took, and pouring down his throat,
+Delighted, swill’d the large luxurious draught,
+‘More! give me more (he cried): the boon be thine,
+Whoe’er thou art that bear’st celestial wine!
+Declare thy name: not mortal is this juice,
+Such as the unbless’d Cyclopaean climes produce
+(Though sure our vine the largest cluster yields,
+And Jove’s scorn’d thunder serves to drench our fields);
+But this descended from the bless’d abodes,
+A rill of nectar, streaming from the gods.’
+
+“He said, and greedy grasped the heady bowl,
+Thrice drained, and poured the deluge on his soul.
+His sense lay covered with the dozy fume;
+While thus my fraudful speech I reassume.
+‘Thy promised boon, O Cyclop! now I claim,
+And plead my title; Noman is my name.
+By that distinguish’d from my tender years,
+’Tis what my parents call me, and my peers.
+
+“The giant then: ‘Our promis’d grace receive,
+The hospitable boon we mean to give:
+When all thy wretched crew have felt my power,
+Noman shall be the last I will devour.’
+
+“He said: then nodding with the fumes of wine
+Droop’d his huge head, and snoring lay supine.
+His neck obliquely o’er his shoulders hung,
+Press’d with the weight of sleep that tames the strong:
+There belch’d the mingled streams of wine and blood,
+And human flesh, his indigested food.
+Sudden I stir the embers, and inspire
+With animating breath the seeds of fire:
+Each drooping spirit with bold words repair,
+And urged my train the dreadful deed to dare.
+The stake now glow’d beneath the burning bed
+(Green as it was) and sparkled fiery red,
+Then forth the vengeful instrument I bring;
+With beating hearts my fellows form a ring.
+Urged my some present god, they swift let fall
+The pointed torment on his visual ball.
+Myself above them from a rising ground
+Guide the sharp stake, and twirl it round and round.
+As when a shipwright stands his workmen o’er,
+Who ply the wimble, some huge beam to bore;
+Urged on all hands, it nimbly spins about,
+The grain deep-piercing till it scoops it out:
+In his broad eye he whirls the fiery wood;
+From the pierced pupil spouts the boiling blood;
+Singed are his brows; the scorching lids grow black;
+The jelly bubbles, and the fibres crack.
+And as when armourers temper in the ford
+The keen-edged pole-axe, or the shining sword,
+The red-hot metal hisses in the lake,
+Thus in his eye-ball hiss’d the plunging stake.
+He sends a dreadful groan, the rocks around
+Through all their inmost winding caves resound.
+Scared we recoiled. Forth with frantic hand,
+He tore and dash’d on earth and gory brand;
+Then calls the Cyclops, all that round him dwell,
+With voice like thunder, and a direful yell.
+From all their dens the one-eyed race repair,
+From rifted rocks, and mountains bleak in air.
+All haste assembled, at his well-known roar,
+Inquire the cause, and crowd the cavern door.
+
+“‘What hurts thee, Polypheme? what strange affright
+Thus breaks our slumbers, and disturbs the night?
+Does any mortal, in the unguarded hour
+Of sleep, oppress thee, or by fraud or power?
+Or thieves insidious thy fair flock surprise?’
+Thus they; the Cyclop from his den replies:
+
+“‘Friends, Noman kills me; Noman in the hour
+Of sleep, oppresses me with fraudful power.’
+‘If no man hurt thee, but the hand divine
+Inflict disease, it fits thee to resign:
+To Jove or to thy father Neptune pray.’
+The brethren cried, and instant strode away.
+“Joy touch’d my secret soul and conscious heart,
+Pleased with the effect of conduct and of art.
+Meantime the Cyclop, raging with his wound,
+Spreads his wide arms, and searches round and round:
+At last, the stone removing from the gate,
+With hands extended in the midst he sate;
+And search’d each passing sheep, and felt it o’er,
+Secure to seize us ere we reach’d the door
+(Such as his shallow wit he deem’d was mine);
+But secret I revolved the deep design:
+’Twas for our lives my labouring bosom wrought;
+Each scheme I turn’d, and sharpen’d every thought;
+This way and that I cast to save my friends,
+Till one resolve my varying counsel ends.
+
+“Strong were the rams, with native purple fair,
+Well fed, and largest of the fleecy care,
+These, three and three, with osier bands we tied
+(The twining bands the Cyclop’s bed supplied);
+The midmost bore a man, the outward two
+Secured each side: so bound we all the crew,
+One ram remain’d, the leader of the flock:
+In his deep fleece my grasping hands I lock,
+And fast beneath, in wooly curls inwove,
+There cling implicit, and confide in Jove.
+When rosy morning glimmer’d o’er the dales,
+He drove to pasture all the lusty males:
+The ewes still folded, with distended thighs
+Unmilk’d lay bleating in distressful cries.
+But heedless of those cares, with anguish stung,
+He felt their fleeces as they pass’d along
+(Fool that he was.) and let them safely go,
+All unsuspecting of their freight below.
+
+“The master ram at last approach’d the gate,
+Charged with his wool, and with Ulysses’ fate.
+Him while he pass’d, the monster blind bespoke:
+‘What makes my ram the lag of all the flock?
+First thou wert wont to crop the flowery mead,
+First to the field and river’s bank to lead,
+And first with stately step at evening hour
+Thy fleecy fellows usher to their bower.
+Now far the last, with pensive pace and slow
+Thou movest, as conscious of thy master’s woe!
+Seest thou these lids that now unfold in vain?
+(The deed of Noman and his wicked train!)
+Oh! did’st thou feel for thy afflicted lord,
+And would but Fate the power of speech afford.
+Soon might’st thou tell me, where in secret here
+The dastard lurks, all trembling with his fear:
+Swung round and round, and dash’d from rock to rock,
+His battered brains should on the pavement smoke
+No ease, no pleasure my sad heart receives,
+While such a monster as vile Noman lives.’
+
+“The giant spoke, and through the hollow rock
+Dismiss’d the ram, the father of the flock.
+No sooner freed, and through the inclosure pass’d,
+First I release myself, my fellows last:
+Fat sheep and goats in throngs we drive before,
+And reach our vessel on the winding shore.
+With joy the sailors view their friends return’d,
+And hail us living whom as dead they mourn’d
+Big tears of transport stand in every eye:
+I check their fondness, and command to fly.
+Aboard in haste they heave the wealthy sheep,
+And snatch their oars, and rush into the deep.
+
+“Now off at sea, and from the shallows clear,
+As far as human voice could reach the ear,
+With taunts the distant giant I accost:
+‘Hear me, O Cyclop! hear, ungracious host!
+’Twas on no coward, no ignoble slave,
+Thou meditatest thy meal in yonder cave;
+But one, the vengeance fated from above
+Doom’d to inflict; the instrument of Jove.
+Thy barbarous breach of hospitable bands,
+The god, the god revenges by my hands.’
+
+“These words the Cyclop’s burning rage provoke;
+From the tall hill he rends a pointed rock;
+High o’er the billows flew the massy load,
+And near the ship came thundering on the flood.
+It almost brush’d the helm, and fell before:
+The whole sea shook, and refluent beat the shore,
+The strong concussion on the heaving tide
+Roll’d back the vessel to the island’s side:
+Again I shoved her off: our fate to fly,
+Each nerve we stretch, and every oar we ply.
+Just ’scaped impending death, when now again
+We twice as far had furrow’d back the main,
+Once more I raise my voice; my friends, afraid,
+With mild entreaties my design dissuade:
+‘What boots the godless giant to provoke,
+Whose arm may sink us at a single stroke?
+Already when the dreadful rock he threw,
+Old Ocean shook, and back his surges flew.
+The sounding voice directs his aim again;
+The rock o’erwhelms us, and we ’scaped in vain.’
+
+“But I, of mind elate, and scorning fear,
+Thus with new taunts insult the monster’s ear:
+‘Cyclop! if any, pitying thy disgrace.
+Ask, who disfigured thus that eyeless face?
+Say ’twas Ulysses: ’twas his deed declare,
+Laertes’ son, of Ithaca the fair;
+Ulysses, far in fighting fields renown’d,
+Before whose arm Troy tumbled to the ground.’
+
+“The astonished savage with a roar replies:
+‘Oh heavens! oh faith of ancient prophecies!
+This, Telemus Eurymedes foretold
+(The mighty seer who on these hills grew old;
+Skill’d the dark fates of mortals to declare,
+And learn’d in all wing’d omens of the air);
+Long since he menaced, such was Fate’s command;
+And named Ulysses as the destined hand.
+I deem’d some godlike giant to behold,
+Or lofty hero, haughty, brave, and bold;
+Not this weak pigmy wretch, of mean design,
+Who, not by strength subdued me, but by wine.
+But come, accept our gifts, and join to pray
+Great Neptune’s blessing on the watery way;
+For his I am, and I the lineage own;
+The immortal father no less boasts the son.
+His power can heal me, and relight my eye;
+And only his, of all the gods on high.’
+“‘Oh! could this arm (I thus aloud rejoin’d)
+From that vast bulk dislodge thy bloody mind,
+And send thee howling to the realms of night!
+As sure as Neptune cannot give thee sight.’
+“Thus I; while raging he repeats his cries,
+With hands uplifted to the starry skies?
+‘Hear me, O Neptune; thou whose arms are hurl’d
+From shore to shore, and gird the solid world;
+If thine I am, nor thou my birth disown,
+And if the unhappy Cyclop be thy son,
+Let not Ulysses breathe his native air,
+Laertes’ son, of Ithaca the fair.
+If to review his country be his fate,
+Be it through toils and sufferings long and late;
+His lost companions let him first deplore;
+Some vessel, not his own, transport him o’er;
+And when at home from foreign sufferings freed,
+More near and deep, domestic woes succeed!’
+With imprecations thus he fill’d the air,
+And angry Neptune heard the unrighteous prayer,
+A larger rock then heaving from the plain,
+He whirl’d it round: it sung across the main;
+It fell, and brush’d the stern: the billows roar,
+Shake at the weight, and refluent beat the shore.
+With all our force we kept aloof to sea,
+And gain’d the island where our vessels lay.
+Our sight the whole collected navy cheer’d.
+Who, waiting long, by turns had hoped and fear’d.
+There disembarking on the green sea side,
+We land our cattle, and the spoil divide;
+Of these due shares to every sailor fall;
+The master ram was voted mine by all;
+And him (the guardian of Ulysses’ fate)
+With pious mind to heaven I consecrate.
+But the great god, whose thunder rends the skies,
+Averse, beholds the smoking sacrifice;
+And sees me wandering still from coast to coast,
+And all my vessels, all my people, lost!
+While thoughtless we indulge the genial rite,
+As plenteous cates and flowing bowls invite;
+Till evening Phœbus roll’d away the light;
+Stretch’d on the shore in careless ease we rest,
+Till ruddy morning purpled o’er the east;
+Then from their anchors all our ships unbind,
+And mount the decks, and call the willing wind.
+Now, ranged in order on our banks we sweep.
+With hasty strokes the hoarse-resounding deep;
+Blind to the future, pensive with our fears,
+Glad for the living, for the dead in tears.”
+
+
+
+
+BOOK X.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+ADVENTURES WITH AEOLUS, THE LAESTRYGONS, AND CIRCE.
+
+
+Ulysses arrives at the island of Æolus, who gives him prosperous
+winds, and incloses the adverse ones in a bag, which his companions
+untying, they are driven back again and rejected. Then they sail to the
+Laestrygons, where they lose eleven ships, and, with only one
+remaining, proceed to the island of Circe. Eurylochus is sent first
+with some companions, all which, except Eurylochus, are transformed
+into swine. Ulysses then undertakes the adventure, and, by the help of
+Mercury, who gives him the herb Moly, overcomes the enchantress, and
+procures the restoration of his men. After a year’s stay with her, he
+prepares, at her instigation, for his voyage to the infernal shades.
+
+
+“At length we reach’d Æolias’s sea-girt shore,
+Where great Hippotades the sceptre bore,
+A floating isle! high-raised by toil divine,
+Strong walls of brass the rocky coast confine.
+Six blooming youths, in private grandeur bred,
+And six fair daughters, graced the royal bed;
+These sons their sisters wed, and all remain
+Their parents’ pride, and pleasure of their reign.
+All day they feast, all day the bowls flow round,
+And joy and music through the isle resound;
+At night each pair on splendid carpets lay,
+And crown’d with love the pleasures of the day.
+This happy port affords our wandering fleet
+A month’s reception, and a safe retreat.
+Full oft the monarch urged me to relate
+The fall of Ilion, and the Grecian fate;
+Full oft I told: at length for parting moved;
+The king with mighty gifts my suit approved.
+The adverse winds in leathern bags he braced,
+Compress’d their force, and lock’d each struggling blast.
+For him the mighty sire of gods assign’d
+The tempest’s lord, the tyrant of the wind;
+His word alone the listening storms obey,
+To smooth the deep, or swell the foamy sea.
+These in my hollow ship the monarch hung,
+Securely fetter’d by a silver thong:
+But Zephyrus exempt, with friendly gales
+He charged to fill, and guide the swelling sails:
+Rare gift! but O, what gift to fools avails!
+
+“Nine prosperous days we plied the labouring oar;
+The tenth presents our welcome native shore:
+The hills display the beacon’s friendly light,
+And rising mountains gain upon our sight.
+Then first my eyes, by watchful toils oppress’d,
+Complied to take the balmy gifts of rest:
+Then first my hands did from the rudder part
+(So much the love of home possess’d my heart):
+When lo! on board a fond debate arose;
+What rare device those vessels might inclose?
+What sum, what prize from Æolus I brought?
+Whilst to his neighbour each express’d his thought:
+
+“‘Say, whence ye gods, contending nations strive
+Who most shall please, who most our hero give?
+Long have his coffers groan’d with Trojan spoils:
+Whilst we, the wretched partners of his toils,
+Reproach’d by want, our fruitless labours mourn,
+And only rich in barren fame return.
+Now Æolus, ye see, augments his store:
+But come, my friends, these mystic gifts explore,’
+They said: and (oh cursed fate!) the thongs unbound!
+The gushing tempest sweeps the ocean round;
+Snatch’d in the whirl, the hurried navy flew,
+The ocean widen’d and the shores withdrew.
+Roused from my fatal sleep I long debate
+If still to live, or desperate plunge to fate;
+Thus doubting, prostrate on the deck I lay,
+Till all the coward thoughts of death gave way.
+
+“Meanwhile our vessels plough the liquid plain,
+And soon the known AEolian coast regain;
+Our groan the rocks remurmur’d to the main.
+We leap’d on shore, and with a scanty feast
+Our thirst and hunger hastily repress’d;
+That done, two chosen heralds straight attend
+Our second progress to my royal friend;
+And him amidst his jovial sons we found;
+The banquet steaming, and the goblets crown’d;
+There humbly stoop’d with conscious shame and awe,
+Nor nearer than the gate presumed to draw.
+But soon his sons their well-known guest descried,
+And starting from their couches loudly cried:
+‘Ulysses here! what demon could’st thou meet
+To thwart thy passage, and repel thy fleet?
+Wast thou not furnish’d by our choicest care
+For Greece, for home and all thy soul held dear?’
+Thus they, In silence long my fate I mourn’d;
+At length these words with accents low return’d:
+`Me, lock’d in sleep, my faithless crew bereft
+Of all the blessing of your godlike gift!
+But grant, oh grant, our loss we may retrieve;
+A favour you, and you alone can give.’
+
+“Thus I with art to move their pity tried,
+And touch’d the youths; but their stern sire replied:
+‘Vile wretch, begone! this instant I command
+Thy fleet accursed to leave our hallow’d land.
+His baneful suit pollutes these bless’d abodes,
+Whose fate proclaims him hateful to the gods.’
+
+“Thus fierce he said: we sighing went our way,
+And with desponding hearts put off to sea.
+The sailors spent with toils their folly mourn,
+But mourn in vain; no prospect of return
+Six days and nights a doubtful course we steer,
+The next proud Lamos’ stately towers appear,
+And Laestrygonia’s gates arise distinct in air.
+The shepherd, quitting here at night the plain,
+Calls, to succeed his cares, the watchful swain;
+But he that scorns the chains of sleep to wear,
+And adds the herdsman’s to the shepherd’s care,
+So near the pastures, and so short the way,
+His double toils may claim a double pay,
+And join the labours of the night and day.
+
+“Within a long recess a bay there lies,
+Edged round with cliffs high pointing to the skies;
+The jutting shores that swell on either side
+Contract its mouth, and break the rushing tide.
+Our eager sailors seize the fair retreat,
+And bound within the port their crowded fleet:
+For here retired the sinking billows sleep,
+And smiling calmness silver’d o’er the deep.
+I only in the bay refused to moor,
+And fix’d without, my halsers to the shore.
+
+“From thence we climb’d a point, whose airy brow
+Commands the prospect of the plains below;
+No tracks of beasts, or signs of men, we found,
+But smoky volumes rolling from the ground.
+Two with our herald thither we command,
+With speed to learn what men possess’d the land.
+They went, and kept the wheel’s smooth-beaten road
+Which to the city drew the mountain wood;
+When lo! they met, beside a crystal spring,
+The daughter of Antiphates the king;
+She to Artacia’s silver streams came down;
+(Artacia’s streams alone supply the town);
+The damsel they approach, and ask’d what race
+The people were? who monarch of the place?
+With joy the maid the unwary strangers heard
+And show’d them where the royal dome appear’d.
+They went; but as they entering saw the queen
+Of size enormous, and terrific mien
+(Not yielding to some bulky mountain’s height),
+A sudden horror struck their aching sight.
+Swift at her call her husband scour’d away
+To wreak his hunger on the destined prey;
+One for his food the raging glutton slew,
+But two rush’d out, and to the navy flew.
+
+“Balk’d of his prey, the yelling monster flies,
+And fills the city with his hideous cries;
+A ghastly band of giants hear the roar,
+And, pouring down the mountains, crowd the shore.
+Fragments they rend from off the craggy brow
+And dash the ruins on the ships below;
+The crackling vessels burst; hoarse groans arise,
+And mingled horrors echo to the skies;
+The men like fish, they struck upon the flood,
+And cramm’d their filthy throats with human food.
+Whilst thus their fury rages at the bay,
+My sword our cables cut, I call’d to weigh;
+And charged my men, as they from fate would fly,
+Each nerve to strain, each bending oar to ply.
+The sailors catch the word, their oars they seize,
+And sweep with equal strokes the smoky seas;
+Clear of the rocks the impatient vessel flies;
+Whilst in the port each wretch encumber’d dies.
+With earnest haste my frighted sailors press,
+While kindling transports glow’d at our success;
+But the sad fate that did our friends destroy,
+Cool’d every breast, and damp’d the rising joy.
+
+“Now dropp’d our anchors in the Ææan bay,
+Where Circe dwelt, the daughter of the Day!
+Her mother Perse, of old Ocean’s strain,
+Thus from the Sun descended, and the Main
+(From the same lineage stern Aeaetes came,
+The far-famed brother of the enchantress dame);
+Goddess, the queen, to whom the powers belong
+Of dreadful magic and commanding song.
+Some god directing to this peaceful bay
+Silent we came, and melancholy lay,
+Spent and o’erwatch’d. Two days and nights roll’d on,
+And now the third succeeding morning shone.
+I climb’d a cliff, with spear and sword in hand,
+Whose ridge o’erlook’d a shady length of land;
+To learn if aught of mortal works appear,
+Or cheerful voice of mortal strike the ear?
+From the high point I mark’d, in distant view,
+A stream of curling smoke ascending blue,
+And spiry tops, the tufted trees above,
+Of Circe’s palace bosom’d in the grove.
+
+“Thither to haste, the region to explore,
+Was first my thought: but speeding back to shore
+I deem’d it best to visit first my crew,
+And send our spies the dubious coast to view.
+As down the hill I solitary go,
+Some power divine, who pities human woe,
+Sent a tall stag, descending from the wood,
+To cool his fervour in the crystal flood;
+Luxuriant on the wave-worn bank he lay,
+Stretch’d forth and panting in the sunny ray.
+I launch’d my spear, and with a sudden wound
+Transpierced his back, and fix’d him to the ground.
+He falls, and mourns his fate with human cries:
+Through the wide wound the vital spirit flies.
+I drew, and casting on the river’s side
+The bloody spear, his gather’d feet I tied
+With twining osiers which the bank supplied.
+An ell in length the pliant wisp I weaved,
+And the huge body on my shoulders heaved:
+Then leaning on my spear with both my hands,
+Upbore my load, and press’d the sinking sands
+With weighty steps, till at the ship I threw
+The welcome burden, and bespoke my crew:
+
+“‘Cheer up, my friends! it is not yet our fate
+To glide with ghosts through Pluto’s gloomy gate.
+Food in the desert land, behold! is given!
+Live, and enjoy the providence of heaven.’
+
+“The joyful crew survey his mighty size,
+And on the future banquet feast their eyes,
+As huge in length extended lay the beast;
+Then wash their hands, and hasten to the feast.
+There, till the setting sun roll’d down the light,
+They sate indulging in the genial rite.
+When evening rose, and darkness cover’d o’er
+The face of things, we slept along the shore.
+But when the rosy morning warm’d the east,
+My men I summon’d, and these words address’d:
+“‘Followers and friends, attend what I propose:
+Ye sad companions of Ulysses’ woes!
+We know not here what land before us lies,
+Or to what quarter now we turn our eyes,
+Or where the sun shall set, or where shall rise.
+Here let us think (if thinking be not vain)
+If any counsel, any hope remain.
+Alas! from yonder promontory’s brow
+I view’d the coast, a region flat and low;
+An isle encircled with the boundless flood;
+A length of thickets, and entangled wood.
+Some smoke I saw amid the forest rise,
+And all around it only seas and skies!’
+
+“With broken hearts my sad companions stood,
+Mindful of Cyclops and his human food,
+And horrid Laestrygons, the men of blood.
+Presaging tears apace began to rain;
+But tears in mortal miseries are vain.
+In equal parts I straight divide my band,
+And name a chief each party to command;
+I led the one, and of the other side
+Appointed brave Eurylochus the guide.
+Then in the brazen helm the lots we throw,
+And fortune casts Eurylochus to go;
+He march’d with twice eleven in his train;
+Pensive they march, and pensive we remain.
+
+“The palace in a woody vale they found,
+High raised of stone; a shaded space around;
+Where mountain wolves and brindled lions roam,
+(By magic tamed,) familiar to the dome.
+With gentle blandishment our men they meet,
+And wag their tails, and fawning lick their feet.
+As from some feast a man returning late,
+His faithful dogs all meet him at the gate,
+Rejoicing round, some morsel to receive,
+(Such as the good man ever used to give,)
+Domestic thus the grisly beasts drew near;
+They gaze with wonder not unmix’d with fear.
+Now on the threshold of the dome they stood,
+And heard a voice resounding through the wood:
+Placed at her loom within, the goddess sung;
+The vaulted roofs and solid pavement rung.
+O’er the fair web the rising figures shine,
+Immortal labour! worthy hands divine.
+Polites to the rest the question moved
+(A gallant leader, and a man I loved):
+
+“‘What voice celestial, chanting to the loom
+(Or nymph, or goddess), echoes from the room?
+Say, shall we seek access?’ With that they call;
+And wide unfold the portals of the hall.
+
+“The goddess, rising, asks her guests to stay,
+Who blindly follow where she leads the way.
+Eurylochus alone of all the band,
+Suspecting fraud, more prudently remain’d.
+On thrones around with downy coverings graced,
+With semblance fair, the unhappy men she placed.
+Milk newly press’d, the sacred flour of wheat,
+And honey fresh, and Pramnian wines the treat:
+But venom’d was the bread, and mix’d the bowl,
+With drugs of force to darken all the soul:
+Soon in the luscious feast themselves they lost,
+And drank oblivion of their native coast.
+Instant her circling wand the goddess waves,
+To hogs transforms them, and the sty receives.
+No more was seen the human form divine;
+Head, face, and members, bristle into swine:
+Still cursed with sense, their minds remain alone,
+And their own voice affrights them when they groan.
+Meanwhile the goddess in disdain bestows
+The mast and acorn, brutal food! and strows
+The fruits and cornel, as their feast, around;
+Now prone and grovelling on unsavoury ground.
+
+“Eurylochus, with pensive steps and slow.
+Aghast returns; the messenger of woe,
+And bitter fate. To speak he made essay,
+In vain essay’d, nor would his tongue obey.
+His swelling heart denied the words their way:
+But speaking tears the want of words supply,
+And the full soul bursts copious from his eye.
+Affrighted, anxious for our fellows’ fates,
+We press to hear what sadly he relates:
+
+“We went, Ulysses! (such was thy command)
+Through the lone thicket and the desert land.
+A palace in a woody vale we found
+Brown with dark forests, and with shades around.
+A voice celestial echoed through the dome,
+Or nymph or goddess, chanting to the loom.
+Access we sought, nor was access denied:
+Radiant she came: the portals open’d wide:
+The goddess mild invites the guests to stay:
+They blindly follow where she leads the way.
+I only wait behind of all the train:
+I waited long, and eyed the doors in vain:
+The rest are vanish’d, none repass’d the gate,
+And not a man appears to tell their fate.’
+
+“I heard, and instant o’er my shoulder flung
+The belt in which my weighty falchion hung
+(A beamy blade): then seized the bended bow,
+And bade him guide the way, resolved to go.
+He, prostrate falling, with both hands embraced
+My knees, and weeping thus his suit address’d:
+
+“‘O king, beloved of Jove, thy servant spare,
+And ah, thyself the rash attempt forbear!
+Never, alas! thou never shalt return,
+Or see the wretched for whose loss we mourn.
+With what remains from certain ruin fly,
+And save the few not fated yet to die.’
+
+“I answer’d stern: ‘Inglorious then remain,
+Here feast and loiter, and desert thy train.
+Alone, unfriended, will I tempt my way;
+The laws of fate compel, and I obey.’
+This said, and scornful turning from the shore
+My haughty step, I stalk’d the valley o’er.
+Till now approaching nigh the magic bower,
+Where dwelt the enchantress skill’d in herbs of power,
+A form divine forth issued from the wood
+(Immortal Hermes with the golden rod)
+In human semblance. On his bloomy face
+Youth smiled celestial, with each opening grace.
+He seized my hand, and gracious thus began:
+‘Ah whither roam’st thou, much-enduring man?
+O blind to fate! what led thy steps to rove
+The horrid mazes of this magic grove?
+Each friend you seek in yon enclosure lies,
+All lost their form, and habitants of sties.
+Think’st thou by wit to model their escape?
+Sooner shalt thou, a stranger to thy shape,
+Fall prone their equal: first thy danger know,
+Then take the antidote the gods bestow.
+The plant I give through all the direful bower
+Shall guard thee, and avert the evil hour.
+Now hear her wicked arts: Before thy eyes
+The bowl shall sparkle, and the banquet rise;
+Take this, nor from the faithless feast abstain,
+For temper’d drugs and poison shall be vain.
+Soon as she strikes her wand, and gives the word,
+Draw forth and brandish thy refulgent sword,
+And menace death: those menaces shall move
+Her alter’d mind to blandishment and love.
+Nor shun the blessing proffer’d to thy arms,
+Ascend her bed, and taste celestial charms;
+So shall thy tedious toils a respite find,
+And thy lost friends return to human kind.
+But swear her first by those dread oaths that tie
+The powers below, the blessed in the sky;
+Lest to thee naked secret fraud be meant,
+Or magic bind thee cold and impotent.’
+
+“Thus while he spoke, the sovereign plant he drew
+Where on the all-bearing earth unmark’d it grew,
+And show’d its nature and its wondrous power:
+Black was the root, but milky white the flower;
+Moly the name, to mortals hard to find,
+But all is easy to the ethereal kind.
+This Hermes gave, then, gliding off the glade,
+Shot to Olympus from the woodland shade.
+While, full of thought, revolving fates to come,
+I speed my passage to the enchanted dome.
+Arrived, before the lofty gates I stay’d;
+The lofty gates the goddess wide display’d;
+She leads before, and to the feast invites;
+I follow sadly to the magic rites.
+Radiant with starry studs, a silver seat
+Received my limbs: a footstool eased my feet,
+She mix’d the potion, fraudulent of soul;
+The poison mantled in the golden bowl.
+I took, and quaff’d it, confident in heaven.
+Then waved the wand, and then the word was given.
+‘Hence to thy fellows! (dreadful she began:)
+Go, be a beast!’—I heard, and yet was man.
+
+“Then, sudden whirling, like a waving flame,
+My beamy falchion, I assault the dame.
+Struck with unusual fear, she trembling cries,
+She faints, she falls; she lifts her weeping eyes.
+
+“‘What art thou? say! from whence, from whom you came?
+O more than human! tell thy race, thy name.
+Amazing strength, these poisons to sustain!
+Not mortal thou, nor mortal is thy brain.
+Or art thou he, the man to come (foretold
+By Hermes, powerful with the wand of gold),
+The man from Troy, who wander’d ocean round;
+The man for wisdom’s various arts renown’d,
+Ulysses? Oh! thy threatening fury cease;
+Sheathe thy bright sword, and join our hands in peace!
+Let mutual joys our mutual trust combine,
+And love, and love-born confidence, be thine.’
+
+“‘And how, dread Circe! (furious I rejoin)
+Can love, and love-born confidence, be mine,
+Beneath thy charms when my companions groan,
+Transform’d to beasts, with accents not their own?
+O thou of fraudful heart, shall I be led
+To share thy feast-rites, or ascend thy bed;
+That, all unarm’d, thy vengeance may have vent,
+And magic bind me, cold and impotent?
+Celestial as thou art, yet stand denied;
+Or swear that oath by which the gods are tied,
+Swear, in thy soul no latent frauds remain,
+Swear by the vow which never can be vain.’
+
+“The goddess swore: then seized my hand, and led
+To the sweet transports of the genial bed.
+Ministrant to the queen, with busy care
+Four faithful handmaids the soft rites prepare;
+Nymphs sprung from fountains, or from shady woods,
+Or the fair offspring of the sacred floods.
+One o’er the couches painted carpets threw,
+Whose purple lustre glow’d against the view:
+White linen lay beneath. Another placed
+The silver stands, with golden flaskets graced:
+With dulcet beverage this the beaker crown’d,
+Fair in the midst, with gilded cups around:
+That in the tripod o’er the kindled pile
+The water pours; the bubbling waters boil;
+An ample vase receives the smoking wave;
+And, in the bath prepared, my limbs I lave:
+Reviving sweets repair the mind’s decay,
+And take the painful sense of toil away.
+A vest and tunic o’er me next she threw,
+Fresh from the bath, and dropping balmy dew;
+Then led and placed me on the sovereign seat,
+With carpets spread; a footstool at my feet.
+The golden ewer a nymph obsequious brings,
+Replenish’d from the cool translucent springs;
+With copious water the bright vase supplies
+A silver laver of capacious size.
+I wash’d. The table in fair order spread,
+They heap the glittering canisters with bread:
+Viands of various kinds allure the taste,
+Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!
+Circe in vain invites the feast to share;
+Absent I ponder, and absorb’d in care;
+While scenes of woe rose anxious in my breast,
+The queen beheld me, and these words address’d:
+
+“‘Why sits Ulysses silent and apart,
+Some hoard of grief close harbour’d at his heart
+Untouch’d before thee stand the cates divine,
+And unregarded laughs the rosy wine.
+Can yet a doubt or any dread remain,
+When sworn that oath which never can be vain?’
+
+“I answered: ‘Goddess! human is my breast,
+By justice sway’d, by tender pity press’d:
+Ill fits it me, whose friends are sunk to beasts,
+To quaff thy bowls, or riot in thy feasts.
+Me would’st thou please? for them thy cares employ,
+And them to me restore, and me to joy.’
+
+“With that she parted: in her potent hand
+She bore the virtue of the magic wand.
+Then, hastening to the sties, set wide the door,
+Urged forth, and drove the bristly herd before;
+Unwieldy, out they rush’d with general cry,
+Enormous beasts, dishonest to the eye.
+Now touch’d by counter-charms they change again,
+And stand majestic, and recall’d to men.
+Those hairs of late that bristled every part,
+Fall off, miraculous effect of art!
+Till all the form in full proportion rise,
+More young, more large, more graceful to my eyes.
+They saw, they knew me, and with eager pace
+Clung to their master in a long embrace:
+Sad, pleasing sight! with tears each eye ran o’er,
+And sobs of joy re-echoed through the bower;
+E’en Circe wept, her adamantine heart
+Felt pity enter, and sustain’d her part.
+
+“‘Son of Laertes! (then the queen began)
+Oh much-enduring, much experienced man!
+Haste to thy vessel on the sea-beat shore,
+Unload thy treasures, and the galley moor;
+Then bring thy friends, secure from future harms,
+And in our grottoes stow thy spoils and arms,’
+
+“She said. Obedient to her high command
+I quit the place, and hasten to the strand,
+My sad companions on the beach I found,
+Their wistful eyes in floods of sorrow drown’d.
+
+“As from fresh pastures and the dewy field
+(When loaded cribs their evening banquet yield)
+The lowing herds return; around them throng
+With leaps and bounds their late imprison’d young,
+Rush to their mothers with unruly joy,
+And echoing hills return the tender cry:
+So round me press’d, exulting at my sight,
+With cries and agonies of wild delight,
+The weeping sailors; nor less fierce their joy
+Than if return’d to Ithaca from Troy.
+‘Ah master! ever honour’d, ever dear!
+(These tender words on every side I hear)
+What other joy can equal thy return?
+Not that loved country for whose sight we mourn,
+The soil that nursed us, and that gave us breath:
+But ah! relate our lost companions’ death.’
+
+“I answer’d cheerful: ‘Haste, your galley moor,
+And bring our treasures and our arms ashore:
+Those in yon hollow caverns let us lay,
+Then rise, and follow where I lead the way.
+Your fellows live; believe your eyes, and come
+To taste the joys of Circe’s sacred dome.’
+
+“With ready speed the joyful crew obey:
+Alone Eurylochus persuades their stay.
+
+“‘Whither (he cried), ah whither will ye run?
+Seek ye to meet those evils ye should shun?
+Will you the terrors of the dome explore,
+In swine to grovel, or in lions roar,
+Or wolf-like howl away the midnight hour
+In dreadful watch around the magic bower?
+Remember Cyclops, and his bloody deed;
+The leader’s rashness made the soldiers bleed.’
+
+“I heard incensed, and first resolved to speed
+My flying falchion at the rebel’s head.
+Dear as he was, by ties of kindred bound,
+This hand had stretch’d him breathless on the ground.
+But all at once my interposing train
+For mercy pleaded, nor could plead in vain.
+‘Leave here the man who dares his prince desert,
+Leave to repentance and his own sad heart,
+To guard the ship. Seek we the sacred shades
+Of Circe’s palace, where Ulysses leads.’
+
+“This with one voice declared, the rising train
+Left the black vessel by the murmuring main.
+Shame touch’d Eurylochus’ alter’d breast:
+He fear’d my threats, and follow’d with the rest.
+
+“Meanwhile the goddess, with indulgent cares
+And social joys, the late transform’d repairs;
+The bath, the feast, their fainting soul renews:
+Rich in refulgent robes, and dropping balmy dews:
+Brightening with joy, their eager eyes behold,
+Each other’s face, and each his story told;
+Then gushing tears the narrative confound,
+And with their sobs the vaulted roof resound.
+When hush’d their passion, thus the goddess cries:
+‘Ulysses, taught by labours to be wise,
+Let this short memory of grief suffice.
+To me are known the various woes ye bore.
+In storms by sea, in perils on the shore;
+Forget whatever was in Fortune’s power,
+And share the pleasures of this genial hour.
+Such be your mind as ere ye left your coast,
+Or learn’d to sorrow for a country lost.
+Exiles and wanderers now, where’er ye go,
+Too faithful memory renews your woe:
+The cause removed, habitual griefs remain,
+And the soul saddens by the use of pain.’
+
+“Her kind entreaty moved the general breast;
+Tired with long toil, we willing sunk to rest.
+We plied the banquet, and the bowl we crown’d,
+Till the full circle of the year came round.
+But when the seasons following in their train,
+Brought back the months, the days, and hours again;
+As from a lethargy at once they rise,
+And urge their chief with animating cries:
+
+“‘Is this, Ulysses, our inglorious lot?
+And is the name of Ithaca forgot?
+Shall never the dear land in prospect rise,
+Or the loved palace glitter in our eyes?’
+“Melting I heard; yet till the sun’s decline
+Prolong’d the feast, and quaff’d the rosy wine
+But when the shades came on at evening hour,
+And all lay slumbering in the dusky bower,
+I came a suppliant to fair Circe’s bed,
+The tender moment seized, and thus I said:
+‘Be mindful, goddess! of thy promise made;
+Must sad Ulysses ever be delay’d?
+Around their lord my sad companions mourn,
+Each breast beats homeward, anxious to return:
+If but a moment parted from thy eyes,
+Their tears flow round me, and my heart complies.’
+
+“‘Go then (she cried), ah go! yet think, not I,
+Not Circe, but the Fates, your wish deny.
+Ah, hope not yet to breathe thy native air!
+Far other journey first demands thy care;
+To tread the uncomfortable paths beneath,
+And view the realms of darkness and of death.
+There seek the Theban bard, deprived of sight;
+Within, irradiate with prophetic light;
+To whom Persephone, entire and whole,
+Gave to retain the unseparated soul:
+The rest are forms, of empty ether made;
+Impassive semblance, and a flitting shade.’
+
+“Struck at the word, my very heart was dead:
+Pensive I sate: my tears bedew’d the bed:
+To hate the light and life my soul begun,
+And saw that all was grief beneath the sun:
+Composed at length the gushing tears suppress’d,
+And my toss’d limbs now wearied into rest.
+‘How shall I tread (I cried), ah, Circe! say,
+The dark descent, and who shall guide the way?
+Can living eyes behold the realms below?
+What bark to waft me, and what wind to blow?’
+
+“‘Thy fated road (the magic power replied),
+Divine Ulysses! ask no mortal guide.
+Rear but the mast, the spacious sail display,
+The northern winds shall wing thee on thy way.
+Soon shalt thou reach old Ocean’s utmost ends,
+Where to the main the shelving shore descends;
+The barren trees of Proserpine’s black woods,
+Poplars and willows trembling o’er the floods:
+There fix thy vessel in the lonely bay,
+And enter there the kingdoms void of day,
+Where Phlegethon’s loud torrents, rushing down,
+Hiss in the flaming gulf of Acheron;
+And where, slow rolling from the Stygian bed,
+Cocytus’ lamentable waters spread:
+Where the dark rock o’erhangs the infernal lake,
+And mingling streams eternal murmurs make.
+First draw thy falchion, and on every side
+Trench the black earth a cubit long and wide:
+To all the shades around libations pour,
+And o’er the ingredients strew the hallow’d flour:
+New wine and milk, with honey temper’d bring,
+And living water from the crystal spring.
+Then the wan shades and feeble ghosts implore,
+With promised offerings on thy native shore;
+A barren cow, the stateliest of the isle,
+And heap’d with various wealth, a blazing pile:
+These to the rest; but to the seer must bleed
+A sable ram, the pride of all thy breed.
+These solemn vows and holy offerings paid
+To all the phantom nations of the dead,
+Be next thy care the sable sheep to place
+Full o’er the pit, and hellward turn their face:
+But from the infernal rite thine eye withdraw,
+And back to Ocean glance with reverend awe.
+Sudden shall skim along the dusky glades
+Thin airy shoals, and visionary shades.
+Then give command the sacrifice to haste,
+Let the flay’d victims in the flame be cast,
+And sacred vows and mystic song applied
+To grisly Pluto and his gloomy bride.
+Wide o’er the pool thy falchion waved around
+Shall drive the spectres from unbidden ground:
+The sacred draught shall all the dead forbear,
+Till awful from the shades arise the seer.
+Let him, oraculous, the end, the way,
+The turns of all thy future fate display,
+Thy pilgrimage to come, and remnant of thy day.’
+
+“So speaking, from the ruddy orient shone
+The morn, conspicuous on her golden throne.
+The goddess with a radiant tunic dress’d
+My limbs, and o’er me cast a silken vest.
+Long flowing robes, of purest white, array
+The nymph, that added lustre to the day:
+A tiar wreath’d her head with many a fold;
+Her waist was circled with a zone of gold.
+Forth issuing then, from place to place I flew;
+Rouse man by man, and animate my crew.
+‘Rise, rise, my mates! ’tis Circe gives command:
+Our journey calls us; haste, and quit the land.’
+All rise and follow, yet depart not all,
+For Fate decreed one wretched man to fall.
+
+“A youth there was, Elpenor was he named,
+Not much for sense, nor much for courage famed:
+The youngest of our band, a vulgar soul,
+Born but to banquet, and to drain the bowl.
+He, hot and careless, on a turret’s height
+With sleep repair’d the long debauch of night:
+The sudden tumult stirred him where he lay,
+And down he hasten’d, but forgot the way;
+Full headlong from the roof the sleeper fell,
+And snapp’d the spinal joint, and waked in hell.
+
+“The rest crowd round me with an eager look;
+I met them with a sigh, and thus bespoke:
+‘Already, friends! ye think your toils are o’er,
+Your hopes already touch your native shore:
+Alas! far otherwise the nymph declares,
+Far other journey first demands our cares;
+To tread the uncomfortable paths beneath,
+The dreary realms of darkness and of death;
+To seek Tiresias’ awful shade below,
+And thence our fortunes and our fates to know.’
+
+“My sad companions heard in deep despair;
+Frantic they tore their manly growth of hair;
+To earth they fell: the tears began to rain;
+But tears in mortal miseries are vain,
+Sadly they fared along the sea-beat shore;
+Still heaved their hearts, and still their eyes ran o’er.
+The ready victims at our bark we found,
+The sable ewe and ram together bound.
+For swift as thought the goddess had been there,
+And thence had glided, viewless as the air:
+The paths of gods what mortal can survey?
+Who eyes their motion? who shall trace their way?”
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XI.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE DESCENT INTO HELL.
+
+
+Ulysses continues his narration. How he arrived at the land of the
+Cimmerians, and what ceremonies he performed to invoke the dead. The
+manner of his descent, and the apparition of the shades: his
+conversation with Elpenor, and with Tiresias, who informs him in a
+prophetic manner of his fortunes to come. He meets his mother Anticlea,
+from whom he learns the state of his family. He sees the shades of the
+ancient heroines, afterwards of the heroes, and converses in particular
+with Agamemnon and Achilles. Ajax keeps at a sullen distance, and
+disdains to answer him. He then beholds Tityus, Tantalus, Sisyphus,
+Hercules; till he is deterred from further curiosity by the apparition
+of horrid spectres, and the cries of the wicked in torments.
+
+
+“Now to the shores we bend, a mournful train,
+Climb the tall bark, and launch into the main;
+At once the mast we rear, at once unbind
+The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind;
+Then pale and pensive stand, with cares oppress’d,
+And solemn horror saddens every breast.
+A freshening breeze the magic power supplied,
+While the wing’d vessel flew along the tide;
+Our oars we shipp’d; all day the swelling sails
+Full from the guiding pilot catch’d the gales.
+
+“Now sunk the sun from his aërial height,
+And o’er the shaded billows rush’d the night;
+When lo! we reach’d old Ocean’s utmost bounds,
+Where rocks control his waves with ever-during mounds.
+
+“There in a lonely land, and gloomy cells,
+The dusky nation of Cimmeria dwells;
+The sun ne’er views the uncomfortable seats,
+When radiant he advances, or retreats:
+Unhappy race! whom endless night invades,
+Clouds the dull air, and wraps them round in shades.
+
+“The ship we moor on these obscure abodes;
+Disbark the sheep, an offering to the gods;
+And, hellward bending, o’er the beach descry
+The doleful passage to the infernal sky.
+The victims, vow’d to each Tartarian power,
+Eurylochus and Perimedes bore.
+
+“Here open’d hell, all hell I here implored,
+And from the scabbard drew the shining sword:
+And trenching the black earth on every side,
+A cavern form’d, a cubit long and wide.
+New wine, with honey-temper’d milk, we bring,
+Then living waters from the crystal spring:
+O’er these was strew’d the consecrated flour,
+And on the surface shone the holy store.
+
+“Now the wan shades we hail, the infernal gods,
+To speed our course, and waft us o’er the floods:
+So shall a barren heifer from the stall
+Beneath the knife upon your altars fall;
+So in our palace, at our safe return,
+Rich with unnumber’d gifts the pile shall burn;
+So shall a ram, the largest of the breed,
+Black as these regions, to Tiresias bleed.
+
+“Thus solemn rites and holy vows we paid
+To all the phantom-nations of the dead;
+Then died the sheep: a purple torrent flow’d,
+And all the caverns smoked with streaming blood.
+When lo! appear’d along the dusky coasts,
+Thin, airy shoals of visionary ghosts:
+Fair, pensive youths, and soft enamour’d maids;
+And wither’d elders, pale and wrinkled shades;
+Ghastly with wounds the forms of warriors slain
+Stalk’d with majestic port, a martial train:
+These and a thousand more swarm’d o’er the ground,
+And all the dire assembly shriek’d around.
+Astonish’d at the sight, aghast I stood,
+And a cold fear ran shivering through my blood;
+Straight I command the sacrifice to haste,
+Straight the flay’d victims to the flames are cast,
+And mutter’d vows, and mystic song applied
+To grisly Pluto, and his gloomy bride.
+
+“Now swift I waved my falchion o’er the blood;
+Back started the pale throngs, and trembling stood,
+Round the black trench the gore untasted flows,
+Till awful from the shades Tiresias rose.
+
+“There wandering through the gloom I first survey’d,
+New to the realms of death, Elpenor’s shade:
+His cold remains all naked to the sky
+On distant shores unwept, unburied lie.
+Sad at the sight I stand, deep fix’d in woe,
+And ere I spoke the tears began to flow.
+
+“‘O say what angry power Elpenor led
+To glide in shades, and wander with the dead?
+How could thy soul, by realms and seas disjoin’d,
+Outfly the nimble sail, and leave the lagging wind?
+
+“The ghost replied: ‘To hell my doom I owe,
+Demons accursed, dire ministers of woe!
+My feet, through wine unfaithful to their weight,
+Betray’d me tumbling from a towery height:
+Staggering I reel’d, and as I reel’d I fell,
+Lux’d the neck-joint—my soul descends to hell.
+But lend me aid, I now conjure thee lend,
+By the soft tie and sacred name of friend!
+By thy fond consort! by thy father’s cares!
+By loved Telemachus’ blooming years?
+For well I know that soon the heavenly powers
+Will give thee back to-day, and Circe’s shores:
+There pious on my cold remains attend,
+There call to mind thy poor departed friend.
+The tribute of a tear is all I crave,
+And the possession of a peaceful grave.
+But if, unheard, in vain compassion plead,
+Revere the gods. The gods avenge the dead!
+A tomb along the watery margin raise,
+The tomb with manly arms and trophies grace,
+To show posterity Elpenor was.
+There high in air, memorial of my name,
+Fix the smooth oar, and bid me live to fame.’
+
+“To whom with tears: ‘These rites, O mournful shade,
+Due to thy ghost, shall to thy ghost be paid.’
+
+“Still as I spoke the phantom seem’d to moan,
+Tear follow’d tear, and groan succeeded groan.
+But, as my waving sword the blood surrounds,
+The shade withdrew, and mutter’d empty sounds.
+
+“There as the wondrous visions I survey’d,
+All pale ascends my royal mother’s shade:
+A queen, to Troy she saw our legions pass;
+Now a thin form is all Anticlea was!
+Struck at the sight I melt with filial woe,
+And down my cheek the pious sorrows flow,
+Yet as I shook my falchion o’er the blood,
+Regardless of her son the parent stood.
+
+“When lo! the mighty Theban I behold,
+To guide his steps he bore a staff of gold;
+Awful he trod; majestic was his look!
+And from his holy lips these accents broke:
+
+“‘Why, mortal, wanderest thou from cheerful day,
+To tread the downward, melancholy way?
+What angry gods to these dark regions led
+Thee, yet alive, companion of the dead?
+But sheathe thy poniard, while my tongue relates
+Heaven’s steadfast purpose, and thy future fates.’
+
+“While yet he spoke, the prophet I obey’d,
+And in the scabbard plunged the glittering blade:
+Eager he quaff’d the gore, and then express’d
+Dark things to come, the counsels of his breast.
+
+“Weary of light, Ulysses here explores
+A prosperous voyage to his native shores;
+But know—by me unerring Fates disclose
+New trains of dangers, and new scenes of woes.
+I see, I see, thy bark by Neptune toss’d,
+For injured Cyclops, and his eyeball lost!
+Yet to thy woes the gods decree an end,
+If Heaven thou please: and how to please attend
+Where on Trinacrian rocks the ocean roars,
+Graze numerous herds along the verdant shores;
+Though hunger press, yet fly the dangerous prey,
+The herds are sacred to the god of day,
+Who all surveys with his extensive eye,
+Above, below, on earth, and in the sky!
+Rob not the god; and so propitious gales
+Attend thy voyage, and impel thy sails:
+But, if his herds ye seize, beneath the waves
+I see thy friends o’erwhelm’d in liquid graves!
+The direful wreck Ulysses scarce survives!
+Ulysses at his country scarce arrives!
+Strangers thy guides! nor there thy labours end;
+New foes arise; domestic ills attend!
+There foul adulterers to thy bride resort,
+And lordly gluttons riot in thy court.
+But vengeance hastes amain! These eyes behold
+The deathful scene, princes on princes roll’d!
+That done, a people far from sea explore,
+Who ne’er knew salt, or heard the billows roar,
+Or saw gay vessel stem the watery plain,
+A painted wonder flying on the main!
+Bear on thy back an oar: with strange amaze
+A shepherd meeting thee, the oar surveys,
+And names a van: there fix it on the plain,
+To calm the god that holds the watery reign;
+A threefold offering to his altar bring,
+A bull, a ram, a boar; and hail the ocean king.
+But home return’d, to each ethereal power
+Slay the due victim in the genial hour:
+So peaceful shalt thou end thy blissful days,
+And steal thyself from life by slow decays:
+Unknown to pain, in age resign thy breath,
+When late stern Neptune points the shaft with death:
+To the dark grave retiring as to rest,
+Thy people blessing, by thy people bless’d!
+
+“Unerring truths, O man, my lips relate;
+This is thy life to come, and this is fate.’
+
+“To whom unmoved: ‘If this the gods prepare,
+What Heaven ordains the wise with courage bear.
+But say, why yonder on the lonely strands,
+Unmindful of her son, Anticlea stands?
+Why to the ground she bends her downcast eye?
+Why is she silent, while her son is nigh?
+The latent cause, O sacred seer, reveal!’
+
+“‘Nor this (replies the seer) will I conceal.
+Know, to the spectres that thy beverage taste,
+The scenes of life recur, and actions past:
+They, seal’d with truth, return the sure reply;
+The rest, repell’d, a train oblivious fly.’
+
+“The phantom-prophet ceased, and sunk from sight,
+To the black palace of eternal night.
+
+“Still in the dark abodes of death I stood,
+When near Anticlea moved, and drank the blood.
+Straight all the mother in her soul awakes,
+And, owning her Ulysses, thus she speaks;
+‘Comest thou, my son, alive, to realms beneath,
+The dolesome realms of darkness and of death!
+Comest thou alive from pure, ethereal day?
+Dire is the region, dismal is the way!
+Here lakes profound, there floods oppose their waves,
+There the wide sea with all his billows raves!
+Or (since to dust proud Troy submits her towers)
+Comest thou a wanderer from the Phrygian shores?
+Or say, since honour call’d thee to the field,
+Hast thou thy Ithaca, thy bride, beheld?’
+
+“‘Source of my life,’ I cried, ‘from earth I fly
+To seek Tiresias in the nether sky,
+To learn my doom; for, toss’d from woe to woe,
+In every land Ulysses finds a foe:
+Nor have these eyes beheld my native shores,
+Since in the dust proud Troy submits her towers.
+
+“‘But, when thy soul from her sweet mansion fled,
+Say, what distemper gave thee to the dead?
+Has life’s fair lamp declined by slow decays,
+Or swift expired it in a sudden blaze?
+Say, if my sire, good old Laertes, lives?
+If yet Telemachus, my son, survives?
+Say, by his rule is my dominion awed,
+Or crush’d by traitors with an iron rod?
+Say, if my spouse maintains her royal trust;
+Though tempted, chaste, and obstinately just?
+Or if no more her absent lord she wails,
+But the false woman o’er the wife prevails?’
+
+“Thus I, and thus the parent-shade returns:
+‘Thee, ever thee, thy faithful consort mourns:
+Whether the night descends or day prevails,
+Thee she by night, and thee by day bewails.
+Thee in Telemachus thy realm obeys;
+In sacred groves celestial rites he pays,
+And shares the banquet in superior state,
+Graced with such honours as become the great
+Thy sire in solitude foments his care:
+The court is joyless, for thou art not there!
+No costly carpets raise his hoary head,
+No rich embroidery shines to grace his bed;
+Even when keen winter freezes in the skies,
+Rank’d with his slaves, on earth the monarch lies:
+Deep are his sighs, his visage pale, his dress
+The garb of woe and habit of distress.
+And when the autumn takes his annual round,
+The leafy honours scattering on the ground,
+Regardless of his years, abroad he lies,
+His bed the leaves, his canopy the skies.
+Thus cares on cares his painful days consume,
+And bow his age with sorrow to the tomb!
+
+“‘For thee, my son, I wept my life away;
+For thee through hell’s eternal dungeons stray:
+Nor came my fate by lingering pains and slow,
+Nor bent the silver-shafted queen her bow;
+No dire disease bereaved me of my breath;
+Thou, thou, my son, wert my disease and death;
+Unkindly with my love my son conspired,
+For thee I lived, for absent thee expired.’
+
+“Thrice in my arms I strove her shade to bind,
+Thrice through my arms she slipp’d like empty wind,
+Or dreams, the vain illusions of the mind.
+Wild with despair, I shed a copious tide
+Of flowing tears, and thus with sighs replied:
+
+“‘Fliest thou, loved shade, while I thus fondly mourn!
+Turn to my arms, to my embraces turn!
+Is it, ye powers that smile at human harms!
+Too great a bliss to weep within her arms?
+Or has hell’s queen an empty image sent,
+That wretched I might e’en my joys lament?’
+
+“‘O son of woe,’ the pensive shade rejoin’d;
+‘O most inured to grief of all mankind!
+‘Tis not the queen of hell who thee deceives;
+All, all are such, when life the body leaves:
+No more the substance of the man remains,
+Nor bounds the blood along the purple veins:
+These the funereal flames in atoms bear,
+To wander with the wind in empty air:
+While the impassive soul reluctant flies,
+Like a vain dream, to these infernal skies.
+But from the dark dominions speed the way,
+And climb the steep ascent to upper day:
+To thy chaste bride the wondrous story tell,
+The woes, the horrors, and the laws of hell.’
+
+“Thus while she spoke, in swarms hell’s empress brings
+Daughters and wives of heroes and of kings;
+Thick and more thick they gather round the blood,
+Ghost thronged on ghost (a dire assembly) stood!
+Dauntless my sword I seize: the airy crew,
+Swift as it flash’d along the gloom, withdrew;
+Then shade to shade in mutual forms succeeds,
+Her race recounts, and their illustrious deeds.
+
+“Tyro began, whom great Salmoneus bred;
+The royal partner of famed Cretheus’ bed.
+For fair Enipeus, as from fruitful urns
+He pours his watery store, the virgin burns;
+Smooth flows the gentle stream with wanton pride,
+And in soft mazes rolls a silver tide.
+As on his banks the maid enamour’d roves,
+The monarch of the deep beholds and loves;
+In her Enipeus’ form and borrow’d charms
+The amorous god descends into her arms:
+Around, a spacious arch of waves he throws,
+And high in air the liquid mountain rose;
+Thus in surrounding floods conceal’d, he proves
+The pleasing transport, and completes his loves.
+Then, softly sighing, he the fair address’d,
+And as he spoke her tender hand he press’d.
+‘Hail, happy nymph! no vulgar births are owed
+To the prolific raptures of a god:
+Lo! when nine times the moon renews her horn,
+Two brother heroes shall from thee be born;
+Thy early care the future worthies claim,
+To point them to the arduous paths of fame;
+But in thy breast the important truth conceal,
+Nor dare the secret of a god reveal:
+For know, thou Neptune view’st! and at my nod
+Earth trembles, and the waves confess their god.’
+
+“He added not, but mounting spurn’d the plain,
+Then plunged into the chambers of the main,
+
+“Now in the time’s full process forth she brings
+Jove’s dread vicegerents in two future kings;
+O’er proud Iolcos Pelias stretch’d his reign,
+And godlike Neleus ruled the Pylian plain:
+Then, fruitful, to her Cretheus’ royal bed
+She gallant Pheres and famed Aeson bred;
+From the same fountain Amythaon rose,
+Pleased with the din of scar; and noble shout of foes.
+
+“There moved Antiope, with haughty charms,
+Who bless’d the almighty Thunderer in her arms:
+Hence sprung Amphion, hence brave Zethus came,
+Founders of Thebes, and men of mighty name;
+Though bold in open field, they yet surround
+The town with walls, and mound inject on mound;
+Here ramparts stood, there towers rose high in air,
+And here through seven wide portals rush’d the war.
+
+“There with soft step the fair Alcmena trod,
+Who bore Alcides to the thundering god:
+And Megara, who charm’d the son of Jove,
+And soften’d his stern soul to tender love.
+
+“Sullen and sour, with discontented mien,
+Jocasta frown’d, the incestuous Theban queen;
+With her own son she join’d in nuptial bands,
+Though father’s blood imbrued his murderous hands
+The gods and men the dire offence detest,
+The gods with all their furies rend his breast;
+In lofty Thebes he wore the imperial crown,
+A pompous wretch! accursed upon a throne.
+The wife self-murder’d from a beam depends,
+And her foul soul to blackest hell descends;
+Thence to her son the choicest plagues she brings,
+And the fiends haunt him with a thousand stings.
+
+“And now the beauteous Chloris I descry,
+A lovely shade, Amphion’s youngest joy!
+With gifts unnumber’d Neleus sought her arms,
+Nor paid too dearly for unequall’d charms;
+Great in Orchomenos, in Pylos great,
+He sway’d the sceptre with imperial state.
+Three gallant sons the joyful monarch told,
+Sage Nestor, Periclimenus the bold,
+And Chromius last; but of the softer race,
+One nymph alone, a myracle of grace.
+Kings on their thrones for lovely Pero burn;
+The sire denies, and kings rejected mourn.
+To him alone the beauteous prize he yields,
+Whose arm should ravish from Phylacian fields
+The herds of Iphyclus, detain’d in wrong;
+Wild, furious herds, unconquerably strong!
+This dares a seer, but nought the seer prevails,
+In beauty’s cause illustriously he fails;
+Twelve moons the foe the captive youth detains
+In painful dungeons, and coercive chains;
+The foe at last from durance where he lay,
+His heart revering, give him back to day;
+Won by prophetic knowledge, to fulfil
+The steadfast purpose of the Almighty will.
+
+“With graceful port advancing now I spied,
+Leda the fair, the godlike Tyndar’s bride:
+Hence Pollux sprung, who wields the furious sway
+The deathful gauntlet, matchless in the fray;
+And Castor, glorious on the embattled plain,
+Curbs the proud steeds, reluctant to the rein:
+By turns they visit this ethereal sky,
+And live alternate, and alternate die:
+In hell beneath, on earth, in heaven above,
+Reign the twin-gods, the favourite sons of Jove.
+
+“There Ephimedia trod the gloomy plain,
+Who charm’d the monarch of the boundless main:
+Hence Ephialtes, hence stern Otus sprung,
+More fierce than giants, more than giants strong;
+The earth o’erburden’d groan’d beneath their weight,
+None but Orion e’er surpassed their height:
+The wondrous youths had scarce nine winters told,
+When high in air, tremendous to behold,
+Nine ells aloft they rear’d their towering head,
+And full nine cubits broad their shoulders spread.
+Proud of their strength, and more than mortal size,
+The gods they challenge, and affect the skies:
+Heaved on Olympus tottering Ossa stood;
+On Ossa, Pelion nods with all his wood.
+Such were they youths! had they to manhood grown
+Almighty Jove had trembled on his throne,
+But ere the harvest of the beard began
+To bristle on the chin, and promise man,
+His shafts Apollo aim’d; at once they sound,
+And stretch the giant monsters o’er the ground.
+
+“There mournful Phaedra with sad Procris moves,
+Both beauteous shades, both hapless in their loves;
+And near them walk’d with solemn pace and slow,
+Sad Adriadne, partner of their woe:
+The royal Minos Ariadne bred,
+She Theseus loved, from Crete with Theseus fled:
+Swift to the Dian isle the hero flies,
+And towards his Athens bears the lovely prize;
+There Bacchus with fierce rage Diana fires,
+The goddess aims her shaft, the nymph expires.
+
+“There Clymene and Mera I behold,
+There Eriphyle weeps, who loosely sold
+Her lord, her honour, for the lust of gold.
+But should I all recount, the night would fail,
+Unequal to the melancholy tale:
+And all-composing rest my nature craves,
+Here in the court, or yonder on the waves;
+In you I trust, and in the heavenly powers,
+To land Ulysses on his native shores.”
+
+He ceased; but left so charming on their ear
+His voice, that listening still they seem’d to hear,
+Till, rising up, Arete silence broke,
+Stretch’d out her snowy hand, and thus she spoke:
+
+“What wondrous man heaven sends us in our guest;
+Through all his woes the hero shines confess’d;
+His comely port, his ample frame express
+A manly air, majestic in distress.
+He, as my guest, is my peculiar care:
+You share the pleasure, then in bounty share
+To worth in misery a reverence pay,
+And with a generous hand reward his stay;
+For since kind heaven with wealth our realm has bless’d,
+Give it to heaven by aiding the distress’d.”
+
+Then sage Echeneus, whose grave reverend brow
+The hand of time had silvered o’er with snow,
+Mature in wisdom rose: “Your words (he cries)
+Demand obedience, for your words are wise.
+But let our king direct the glorious way
+To generous acts; our part is to obey.”
+
+“While life informs these limbs (the king replied),
+Well to deserve, be all my cares employed:
+But here this night the royal guest detain,
+Till the sun flames along the ethereal plain.
+Be it my task to send with ample stores
+The stranger from our hospitable shores:
+Tread you my steps! ’Tis mine to lead the race,
+The first in glory, as the first in place.”
+
+To whom the prince: “This night with joy I stay
+O monarch great in virtue as in sway!
+If thou the circling year my stay control,
+To raise a bounty noble as thy soul;
+The circling year I wait, with ampler stores
+And fitter pomp to hail my native shores:
+Then by my realms due homage would be paid;
+For wealthy kings are loyally obeyed!”
+
+“O king! for such thou art, and sure thy blood
+Through veins (he cried) of royal fathers flow’d:
+Unlike those vagrants who on falsehood live,
+Skill’d in smooth tales, and artful to deceive;
+Thy better soul abhors the liar’s part,
+Wise is thy voice, and noble is thy heart.
+Thy words like music every breast control,
+Steal through the ear, and win upon the soul;
+Soft, as some song divine, thy story flows,
+Nor better could the Muse record thy woes.
+
+“But say, upon the dark and dismal coast,
+Saw’st thou the worthies of the Grecian host?
+The godlike leaders who, in battle slain,
+Fell before Troy, and nobly press’d the plain?
+And lo! a length of night behind remains,
+The evening stars still mount the ethereal plains.
+Thy tale with raptures I could hear thee tell,
+Thy woes on earth, the wondrous scenes in hell,
+Till in the vault of heaven the stars decay.
+And the sky reddens with the rising day.”
+
+“O worthy of the power the gods assign’d
+(Ulysses thus replies), a king in mind:
+Since yet the early hour of night allows
+Time for discourse, and time for soft repose,
+If scenes of misery can entertain,
+Woes I unfold, of woes a dismal train.
+Prepare to hear of murder and of blood;
+Of godlike heroes who uninjured stood
+Amidst a war of spears in foreign lands,
+Yet bled at home, and bled by female hands.
+
+“Now summon’d Proserpine to hell’s black hall
+The heroine shades: they vanish’d at her call.
+When lo! advanced the forms of heroes slain
+By stern AEgysthus, a majestic train:
+And, high above the rest Atrides press’d the plain.
+He quaff’d the gore; and straight his soldier knew,
+And from his eyes pour’d down the tender dew:
+His arms he stretch’d; his arms the touch deceive,
+Nor in the fond embrace, embraces give:
+His substance vanish’d, and his strength decay’d,
+Now all Atrides is an empty shade.
+
+“Moved at the sight, I for a apace resign’d
+To soft affliction all my manly mind;
+At last with tears: ‘O what relentless doom,
+Imperial phantom, bow’d thee to the tomb?
+Say while the sea, and while the tempest raves,
+Has Fate oppress’d thee in the roaring waves,
+Or nobly seized thee in the dire alarms
+Of war and slaughter, and the clash of arms?’
+
+“The ghost returns: ‘O chief of human kind
+For active courage and a patient mind;
+Nor while the sea, nor while the tempest raves
+Has Fate oppress’d me on the roaring waves!
+Nor nobly seized me in the dire alarms
+Of war and slaughter, and the clash of arms
+Stabb’d by a murderous hand Atrides died,
+A foul adulterer, and a faithless bride;
+E’en in my mirth, and at the friendly feast,
+O’er the full bowl, the traitor stabb’d his guest;
+Thus by the gory arm of slaughter falls
+The stately ox, and bleeds within the stalls.
+But not with me the direful murder ends,
+These, these expired! their crime, they were my friends:
+Thick as the boars, which some luxurious lord
+Kills for the feast, to crown the nuptial board.
+When war has thunder’d with its loudest storms,
+Death thou hast seen in all her ghastly forms:
+In duel met her on the listed ground,
+When hand to hand they wound return for wound;
+But never have the eyes astonish’d view’d
+So vile a deed, so dire a scene of blood.
+E’en in the flow of joy, when now the bowl
+Glows in our veins, and opens every soul,
+We groan, we faint; with blood the doom is dyed.
+And o’er the pavement floats the dreadful tide—
+Her breast all gore, with lamentable cries,
+The bleeding innocent Cassandra dies!
+Then though pale death froze cold in every vein,
+My sword I strive to wield, but strive in vain;
+Nor did my traitress wife these eyelids close,
+Or decently in death my limbs compose.
+O woman, woman, when to ill thy mind
+Is bent, all hell contains no fouler fiend:
+And such was mine! who basely plunged her sword
+Through the fond bosom where she reign’d adored!
+Alas! I hoped the toils of war o’ercome,
+To meet soft quiet and repose at home;
+Delusive hope! O wife, thy deeds disgrace
+The perjured sex, and blacken all the race;
+And should posterity one virtuous find,
+Name Clytemnestra, they will curse the kind.’
+
+“Oh injured shade (I cried) what mighty woes
+To thy imperial race from woman rose!
+By woman here thou tread’st this mournful strand,
+And Greece by woman lies a desert land.’
+
+“‘Warn’d by my ills beware, (the shade replies,)
+Nor trust the sex that is so rarely wise;
+When earnest to explore thy secret breast,
+Unfold some trifle, but conceal the rest.
+But in thy consort cease to fear a foe,
+For thee she feels sincerity of woe;
+When Troy first bled beneath the Grecian arms,
+She shone unrivall’d with a blaze of charms;
+Thy infant son her fragrant bosom press’d,
+Hung at her knee, or wanton’d at her breast;
+But now the years a numerous train have ran;
+The blooming boy is ripen’d into man;
+Thy eyes shall see him burn with noble fire,
+The sire shall bless his son, the son his sire;
+But my Orestes never met these eyes,
+Without one look the murder’d father dies;
+Then from a wretched friend this wisdom learn,
+E’en to thy queen disguised, unknown, return;
+For since of womankind so few are just,
+Think all are false, nor e’en the faithful trust.
+
+“‘But, say, resides my son in royal port,
+In rich Orchomenos, or Sparta’s court?
+Or say in Pyle? for yet he views the light,
+Nor glides a phantom through the realms of night.’
+
+“Then I: ‘Thy suit is vain, nor can I say
+If yet he breathes in realms of cheerful day;
+Or pale or wan beholds these nether skies;
+Truth I revere; for wisdom never lies.’
+
+“Thus in a tide of tears our sorrows flow,
+And add new horror to the realms of woe;
+Till side by side along the dreary coast
+Advanced Achilles’ and Patroclus’ ghost,
+A friendly pair! near these the Pylian stray’d,
+And towering Ajax, an illustrious shade!
+War was his joy, and pleased with loud alarms,
+None but Pelides brighter shone in arms.
+
+“Through the thick gloom his friend Achilles knew,
+And as he speaks the tears descend in dew.
+
+“‘Comest thou alive to view the Stygian bounds,
+Where the wan spectres walk eternal rounds;
+Nor fear’st the dark and dismal waste to tread,
+Throng’d with pale ghosts, familiar with the dead?’
+
+“To whom with sighs: ‘I pass these dreadful gates
+To seek the Theban, and consult the Fates;
+For still, distress’d, I rove from coast to coast,
+Lost to my friends, and to my country lost.
+But sure the eye of Time beholds no name
+So bless’d as thine in all the rolls of fame;
+Alive we hail’d thee with our guardian gods,
+And dead thou rulest a king in these abodes.’
+
+“‘Talk not of ruling in this dolorous gloom,
+Nor think vain words (he cried) can ease my doom.
+Rather I’d choose laboriously to bear
+A weight of woes, and breathe the vital air,
+A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread,
+Than reign the sceptred monarch of the dead.
+But say, if in my steps my son proceeds,
+And emulates his godlike father’s deeds?
+If at the clash of arms, and shout of foes,
+Swells his bold heart, his bosom nobly glows?
+Say if my sire, the reverend Peleus, reigns,
+Great in his Phthia, and his throne maintains;
+Or, weak and old, my youthful arm demands,
+To fix the sceptre steadfast in his hands?
+O might the lamp of life rekindled burn,
+And death release me from the silent urn!
+This arm, that thunder’d o’er the Phrygian plain,
+And swell’d the ground with mountains of the slain,
+Should vindicate my injured father’s fame,
+Crush the proud rebel, and assert his claim.’
+
+“‘Illustrious shade (I cried), of Peleus’ fates
+No circumstance the voice of Fame relates:
+But hear with pleased attention the renown,
+The wars and wisdom of thy gallant son.
+With me from Scyros to the field of fame
+Radiant in arms the blooming hero came.
+When Greece assembled all her hundred states,
+To ripen counsels, and decide debates,
+Heavens! how he charm’d us with a flow of sense,
+And won the heart with manly eloquence!
+He first was seen of all the peers to rise,
+The third in wisdom, where they all were wise!
+But when, to try the fortune of the day,
+Host moved toward host in terrible array,
+Before the van, impatient for the fight,
+With martial port he strode, and stern delight:
+Heaps strew’d on heaps beneath his falchion groan’d,
+And monuments of dead deform’d the ground.
+The time would fail should I in order tell
+What foes were vanquish’d, and what numbers fell:
+How, lost through love, Eurypylus was slain,
+And round him bled his bold Cetaean train.
+To Troy no hero came of nobler line,
+Or if of nobler, Memnon, it was thine.
+
+“When Ilion in the horse received her doom,
+And unseen armies ambush’d in its womb,
+Greece gave her latent warriors to my care,
+’Twas mine on Troy to pour the imprison’d war:
+Then when the boldest bosom beat with fear,
+When the stern eyes of heroes dropp’d a tear,
+Fierce in his look his ardent valour glow’d,
+Flush’d in his cheek, or sallied in his blood;
+Indignant in the dark recess he stands,
+Pants for the battle, and the war demands:
+His voice breathed death, and with a martial air
+He grasp’d his sword, and shook his glittering spear.
+And when the gods our arms with conquest crown’d,
+When Troy’s proud bulwarks smoked upon the ground,
+Greece, to reward her soldier’s gallant toils,
+Heap’d high his navy with unnumber’d spoils.
+
+“Thus great in glory, from the din of war
+Safe he return’d, without one hostile scar;
+Though spears in iron tempests rain’d around,
+Yet innocent they play’d, and guiltless of a wound.’
+
+“While yet I spoke, the shade with transport glow’d,
+Rose in his majesty, and nobler trod;
+With haughty stalk he sought the distant glades
+Of warrior kings, and join’d the illustrious shades.
+
+“Now without number ghost by ghost arose,
+All wailing with unutterable woes.
+Alone, apart, in discontented mood,
+A gloomy shade the sullen Ajax stood;
+For ever sad, with proud disdain he pined,
+And the lost arms for ever stung his mind;
+Though to the contest Thetis gave the laws,
+And Pallas, by the Trojans, judged the cause.
+O why was I victorious in the strife?
+O dear bought honour with so brave a life!
+With him the strength of war, the soldier’s pride,
+Our second hope to great Achilles, died!
+Touch’d at the sight from tears I scarce refrain,
+And tender sorrow thrills in every vein;
+Pensive and sad I stand, at length accost
+With accents mild the inexorable ghost:
+‘Still burns thy rage? and can brave souls resent
+E’en after death? Relent, great shade, relent!
+Perish those arms which by the gods’ decree
+Accursed our army with the loss of thee!
+With thee we fall; Greece wept thy hapless fates,
+And shook astonish’d through her hundred states;
+Not more, when great Achilles press’d the ground,
+And breathed his manly spirit through the wound.
+O deem thy fall not owed to man’s decree,
+Jove hated Greece, and punish’d Greece in thee!
+Turn then; oh peaceful turn, thy wrath control,
+And calm the raging tempest of thy soul.’
+
+“While yet I speak, the shade disdains to stay,
+In silence turns, and sullen stalks away.
+
+“Touch’d at his sour retreat, through deepest night,
+Through hell’s black bounds I had pursued his flight,
+And forced the stubborn spectre to reply;
+But wondrous visions drew my curious eye.
+High on a throne, tremendous to behold,
+Stern Minos waves a mace of burnish’d gold;
+Around ten thousand thousand spectres stand
+Through the wide dome of Dis, a trembling band
+Still as they plead, the fatal lots he rolls,
+Absolves the just, and dooms the guilty souls.
+
+“The huge Orion, of portentous size,
+Swift through the gloom a giant-hunter flies:
+A ponderous mace of brass with direful sway
+Aloft he whirls, to crush the savage prey!
+Stern beasts in trains that by his truncheon fell,
+Now grisly forms, shoot o’er the lawns of hell.
+
+“There Tityus large and long, in fetters bound,
+O’erspreads nine acres of infernal ground;
+Two ravenous vultures, furious for their food,
+Scream o’er the fiend, and riot in his blood,
+Incessant gore the liver in his breast,
+The immortal liver grows, and gives the immortal feast.
+For as o’er Panope’s enamell’d plains
+Latona journey’d to the Pythian fanes,
+With haughty love the audacious monster strove
+To force the goddess, and to rival Jove.
+
+“There Tantalus along the Stygian bounds
+Pours out deep groans (with groans all hell resounds);
+E’en in the circling floods refreshment craves,
+And pines with thirst amidst a sea of waves;
+When to the water he his lip applies,
+Back from his lip the treacherous water flies.
+Above, beneath, around his hapless head,
+Trees of all kinds delicious fruitage spread;
+There figs, sky-dyed, a purple hue disclose,
+Green looks the olive, the pomegranate glows.
+There dangling pears exalting scents unfold.
+And yellow apples ripen into gold;
+The fruit he strives to seize; but blasts arise,
+Toss it on high, and whirl it to the skies.
+
+“I turn’d my eye, and as I turn’d survey’d
+A mournful vision! the Sisyphian shade;
+With many a weary step, and many a groan,
+Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone;
+The huge round stone, resulting with a bound,
+Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground.
+Again the restless orb his toil renews,
+Dust mounts in clouds, and sweat descends in dews.
+
+“Now I the strength of Hercules behold,
+A towering spectre of gigantic mould,
+A shadowy form! for high in heaven’s abodes
+Himself resides, a god among the gods;
+There in the bright assemblies of the skies.
+He nectar quaffs, and Hebe crowns his joys.
+Here hovering ghosts, like fowl, his shade surround,
+And clang their pinions with terrific sound;
+Gloomy as night he stands, in act to throw
+The aërial arrow from the twanging bow.
+Around his breast a wondrous zone is roll’d,
+Where woodland monsters grin in fretted gold;
+There sullen lions sternly seem to roar,
+The bear to growl to foam the tusky boar;
+There war and havoc and destruction stood,
+And vengeful murder red with human blood.
+Thus terribly adorned the figures shine,
+Inimitably wrought with skill divine.
+The mighty good advanced with awful look,
+And, turning his grim visage, sternly spoke:
+
+“‘O exercise in grief! by arts refined;
+O taught to bear the wrongs of base mankind!
+Such, such was I! Still toss’d from care to care,
+While in your world I drew the vital air!
+E’en I, who from the Lord of Thunders rose,
+Bore toils and dangers, and a weight of woes;
+To a base monarch still a slave confined,
+(The hardest bondage to a generous mind!)
+Down to these worlds I trod the dismal way,
+And dragg’d the three-mouth’d dog to upper day
+E’en hell I conquer’d, through the friendly aid
+Of Maia’s offspring, and the martial maid.
+
+“Thus he, nor deign’d for our reply to stay,
+But, turning, stalk’d with giant-strides away.
+
+“Curious to view the kings of ancient days,
+The mighty dead that live in endless praise,
+Resolved I stand; and haply had survey’d
+The godlike Theseus, and Pirithous’ shade;
+But swarms of spectres rose from deepest hell,
+With bloodless visage, and with hideous yell.
+They scream, they shriek; and groans and dismal sounds
+Stun my scared ears, and pierce hell’s utmost bounds.
+No more my heart the dismal din sustains,
+And my cold blood hangs shivering in my veins;
+Lest Gorgon, rising from the infernal lakes,
+With horrors arm’d, and curls of hissing snakes,
+Should fix me stiffen’d at the monstrous sight,
+A stony image, in eternal night!
+Straight from the direful coast to purer air
+I speed my flight, and to my mates repair.
+My mates ascend the ship; they strike their oars;
+The mountains lessen, and retreat the shores;
+Swift o’er the waves we fly; the freshening gales
+Sing through the shrouds, and stretch the swelling sails.”
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XII.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE SIRENE, SCYLLA, AND CHARYBDIS.
+
+
+He relates how, after his return from the shades, he was sent by Circe
+on his voyage, by the coast of the Sirens, and by the strait of Scylla
+and Charybdis: the manner in which he escaped those dangers: how, being
+cast on the island Trinacria, his companions destroyed the oxen of the
+Sun: the vengeance that followed; how all perished by shipwreck except
+himself, who, swimming on the mast of the ship, arrived on the island
+of Calypso. With which his narration concludes.
+
+
+“Thus o’er the rolling surge the vessel flies,
+Till from the waves the Ææan hills arise.
+Here the gay Morn resides in radiant bowers,
+Here keeps her revels with the dancing Hours;
+Here Phœbus, rising in the ethereal way,
+Through heaven’s bright portals pours the beamy day.
+At once we fix our halsers on the land.
+At once descend, and press the desert sand:
+There, worn and wasted, lose our cares in sleep,
+To the hoarse murmurs of the rolling deep.
+
+“Soon as the morn restored the day, we paid
+Sepulchral honours to Elpenor’s shade.
+Now by the axe the rushing forest bends,
+And the huge pile along the shore ascends.
+Around we stand, a melancholy train,
+And a loud groan re-echoes from the main.
+Fierce o’er the pyre, by fanning breezes spread,
+The hungry flames devour the silent dead.
+A rising tomb, the silent dead to grace,
+Fast by the roarings of the main we place;
+The rising tomb a lofty column bore,
+And high above it rose the tapering oar.
+
+“Meantime the goddess our return survey’d
+From the pale ghosts and hell’s tremendous shade.
+Swift she descends: a train of nymphs divine
+Bear the rich viands and the generous wine:
+In act to speak the power of magic stands,
+And graceful thus accosts the listening bands;
+
+“‘O sons of woe? decreed by adverse fates
+Alive to pass through hell’s eternal gates!
+All, soon or late, are doom’d that path to tread;
+More wretched you! twice number’d with the dead!
+This day adjourn your cares, exalt your souls,
+Indulge the taste, and drain the sparkling bowls;
+And when the morn unveils her saffron ray,
+Spread your broad sails, and plough the liquid way:
+Lo, I this night, your faithful guide, explain
+Your woes by land, your dangers on the main.’
+
+“The goddess spoke. In feasts we waste the day,
+Till Phœbus downward plunged his burning ray;
+Then sable night ascends, and balmy rest
+Seals every eye, and calms the troubled breast.
+Then curious she commands me to relate
+The dreadful scenes of Pluto’s dreary state.
+She sat in silence while the tale I tell,
+The wondrous visions and the laws of hell.
+
+“Then thus: ‘The lot of man the gods dispose;
+These ills are past: now hear thy future woes
+O prince attend; some favouring power be kind,
+And print the important story on thy mind!
+
+“‘Next, where the Sirens dwell, you plough the seas;
+Their song is death, and makes destruction please.
+Unblest the man, whom music wins to stay
+Nigh the cursed shore and listen to the lay.
+No more that wretch shall view the joys of life
+His blooming offspring, or his beauteous wife!
+In verdant meads they sport; and wide around
+Lie human bones that whiten all the ground:
+The ground polluted floats with human gore,
+And human carnage taints the dreadful shore
+Fly swift the dangerous coast: let every ear
+Be stopp’d against the song! ’tis death to hear!
+Firm to the mast with chains thyself be bound,
+Nor trust thy virtue to the enchanting sound.
+If, mad with transport, freedom thou demand,
+Be every fetter strain’d, and added band to band.
+
+“‘These seas o’erpass’d, be wise! but I refrain
+To mark distinct thy voyage o’er the main:
+New horrors rise! let prudence be thy guide,
+And guard thy various passage through the tide.
+
+“‘High o’er the main two rocks exalt their brow,’
+The boiling billows thundering roll below;
+Through the vast waves the dreadful wonders move,
+Hence named Erratic by the gods above.
+No bird of air, no dove of swiftest wing,
+That bears ambrosia to the ethereal king,
+Shuns the dire rocks: in vain she cuts the skies;
+The dire rocks meet, and crush her as she flies:
+Not the fleet bark, when prosperous breezes play,
+Ploughs o’er that roaring surge its desperate way;
+O’erwhelm’d it sinks: while round a smoke expires,
+And the waves flashing seem to burn with fires.
+Scarce the famed Argo pass’d these raging floods,
+The sacred Argo, fill’d with demigods!
+E’en she had sunk, but Jove’s imperial bride
+Wing’d her fleet sail, and push’d her o’er the tide.
+
+“‘High in the air the rock its summit shrouds
+In brooding tempests, and in rolling clouds;
+Loud storms around, and mists eternal rise,
+Beat its bleak brow, and intercept the skies.
+When all the broad expansion, bright with day,
+Glows with the autumnal or the summer ray,
+The summer and the autumn glow in vain,
+The sky for ever lowers, for ever clouds remain.
+Impervious to the step of man it stands,
+Though borne by twenty feet, though arm’d with twenty hands;
+Smooth as the polish of the mirror rise
+The slippery sides, and shoot into the skies.
+Full in the centre of this rock display’d,
+A yawning cavern casts a dreadful shade:
+Nor the fleet arrow from the twanging bow,
+Sent with full force, could reach the depth below.
+Wide to the west the horrid gulf extends,
+And the dire passage down to hell descends.
+O fly the dreadful sight! expand thy sails,
+Ply the strong oar, and catch the nimble gales;
+Here Scylla bellows from the dire abodes,
+Tremendous pest, abhorr’d by man and gods!
+Hideous her voice, and with less terrors roar
+The whelps of lions in the midnight hour.
+Twelve feet, deform’d and foul, the fiend dispreads;
+Six horrid necks she rears, and six terrific heads;
+Her jaws grin dreadful with three rows of teeth;
+Jaggy they stand, the gaping den of death;
+Her parts obscene the raging billows hide;
+Her bosom terribly o’erlooks the tide.
+When stung with hunger she embroils the flood,
+The sea-dog and the dolphin are her food;
+She makes the huge leviathan her prey,
+And all the monsters of the watery way;
+The swiftest racer of the azure plain
+Here fills her sails, and spreads her oars in vain;
+Fell Scylla rises, in her fury roars,
+At once six mouths expands, at once six men devours.
+
+“‘Close by, a rock of less enormous height
+Breaks the wild waves, and forms a dangerous strait;
+Full on its crown a fig’s green branches rise,
+And shoot a leafy forest to the skies;
+Beneath, Charybdis holds her boisterous reign
+’Midst roaring whirlpools, and absorbs the main;
+Thrice in her gulfs the boiling seas subside,
+Thrice in dire thunders she refunds the tide.
+Oh, if thy vessel plough the direful waves,
+When seas retreating roar within her caves,
+Ye perish all! though he who rules the main
+Lends his strong aid, his aid he lends in vain.
+Ah, shun the horrid gulf! by Scylla fly.
+’Tis better six to lose, than all to die.’
+
+“I then: ‘O nymph propitious to my prayer,
+Goddess divine, my guardian power, declare,
+Is the foul fiend from human vengeance freed?
+Or, if I rise in arms, can Scylla bleed?’
+
+“Then she: ‘O worn by toils, O broke in fight,
+Still are new toils and war thy dire delight?
+Will martial flames for ever fire thy mind,
+And never, never be to Heaven resign’d?
+How vain thy efforts to avenge the wrong!
+Deathless the pest! impenetrably strong!
+Furious and fell, tremendous to behold!
+E’en with a look she withers all the bold!
+She mocks the weak attempts of human might;
+Oh, fly her rage! thy conquest is thy flight.
+If but to seize thy arms thou make delay,
+Again thy fury vindicates her prey;
+Her six mouths yawn, and six are snatch’d away.
+From her foul wound Crataeis gave to air
+This dreadful pest! To her direct thy prayer,
+To curb the monster in her dire abodes,
+And guard thee through the tumult of the floods.
+Thence to Trinacria’s shore you bend your way,
+Where graze thy herds, illustrious source of day!
+Seven herds, seven flocks enrich the sacred plains,
+Each herd, each flock full fifty heads contains;
+The wondrous kind a length of age survey,
+By breed increase not, nor by death decay.
+Two sister goddesses possess the plain,
+The constant guardian of the woolly train;
+Lampetie fair, and Phaethusa young,
+From Phœbus and the bright Neæra sprung;
+Here, watchful o’er the flocks, in shady bowers
+And flowery meads, they waste the joyous hours.
+Rob not the gods! and so propitious gales
+Attend thy voyage, and impel thy sails;
+But if thy impious hands the flocks destroy,
+The gods, the gods avenge it, and ye die!
+’Tis thine alone (thy friends and navy lost)
+Through tedious toils to view thy native coast.’
+
+She ceased: and now arose the morning ray;
+Swift to her dome the goddess held her way.
+Then to my mates I measured back the plain,
+Climb’d the tall bark, and rush’d into the main;
+Then, bending to the stroke, their oars they drew
+To their broad breasts, and swift the galley flew.
+Up sprung a brisker breeze; with freshening gales
+The friendly goddess stretch’d the swelling sails;
+We drop our oars; at ease the pilot guides;
+The vessel light along the level glides.
+When, rising sad and slow, with pensive look,
+Thus to the melancholy train I spoke:
+
+“‘O friends, oh ever partners of my woes,
+Attend while I what Heaven foredooms disclose.
+Hear all! Fate hangs o’er all; on you it lies
+To live or perish! to be safe, be wise!
+
+“‘In flowery meads the sportive Sirens play,
+Touch the soft lyre, and tune the vocal lay;
+Me, me alone, with fetters firmly bound,
+The gods allow to hear the dangerous sound.
+Hear and obey; if freedom I demand,
+Be every fetter strain’d, be added band to band.’
+
+“While yet I speak the winged galley flies,
+And lo! the Siren shores like mists arise.
+Sunk were at once the winds; the air above,
+And waves below, at once forgot to move;
+Some demon calm’d the air and smooth’d the deep,
+Hush’d the loud winds, and charm’d the waves to sleep.
+Now every sail we furl, each oar we ply;
+Lash’d by the stroke, the frothy waters fly.
+The ductile wax with busy hands I mould,
+And cleft in fragments, and the fragments roll’d;
+The aërial region now grew warm with day,
+The wax dissolved beneath the burning ray;
+Then every ear I barr’d against the strain,
+And from access of frenzy lock’d the brain.
+Now round the masts my mates the fetters roll’d,
+And bound me limb by limb with fold on fold.
+Then bending to the stroke, the active train
+Plunge all at once their oars, and cleave the main.
+
+“While to the shore the rapid vessel flies,
+Our swift approach the Siren choir descries;
+Celestial music warbles from their tongue,
+And thus the sweet deluders tune the song:
+
+“‘Oh stay, O pride of Greece! Ulysses, stay!
+Oh cease thy course, and listen to our lay!
+Blest is the man ordain’d our voice to hear,
+The song instructs the soul, and charms the ear.
+Approach! thy soul shall into raptures rise!
+Approach! and learn new wisdom from the wise!
+We know whate’er the kings of mighty name
+Achieved at Ilion in the field of fame;
+Whate’er beneath the sun’s bright journey lies.
+Oh stay, and learn new wisdom from the wise!’
+
+“Thus the sweet charmers warbled o’er the main;
+My soul takes wing to meet the heavenly strain;
+I give the sign, and struggle to be free;
+Swift row my mates, and shoot along the sea;
+New chains they add, and rapid urge the way,
+Till, dying off, the distant sounds decay;
+Then scudding swiftly from the dangerous ground,
+The deafen’d ear unlock’d, the chains unbound.
+
+“Now all at once tremendous scenes unfold;
+Thunder’d the deeps, the smoky billows roll’d!
+Tumultuous waves embroil the bellowing flood,
+All trembling, deafen’d, and aghast we stood!
+No more the vessel plough’d the dreadful wave,
+Fear seized the mighty, and unnerved the brave;
+Each dropp’d his oar; but swift from man to man
+With looks serene I turn’d, and thus began:
+‘O friends! O often tried in adverse storms!
+With ills familiar in more dreadful forms!
+Deep in the dire Cyclopean den you lay,
+Yet safe return’d—Ulysses led the way.
+Learn courage hence, and in my care confide;
+Lo! still the same Ulysses is your guide.
+Attend my words! your oars incessant ply;
+Strain every nerve, and bid the vessel fly.
+If from yon jostling rocks and wavy war
+Jove safety grants, he grants it to your care.
+And thou, whose guiding hand directs our way,
+Pilot, attentive listen and obey!
+Bear wide thy course, nor plough those angry waves
+Where rolls yon smoke, yon tumbling ocean raves;
+Steer by the higher rock; lest whirl’d around
+We sink, beneath the circling eddy drown’d.’
+While yet I speak, at once their oars they seize,
+Stretch to the stroke, and brush the working seas.
+Cautious the name of Scylla I suppress’d;
+That dreadful sound had chill’d the boldest breast.
+
+“Meantime, forgetful of the voice divine,
+All dreadful bright my limbs in armour shine;
+High on the deck I take my dangerous stand,
+Two glittering javelins lighten in my hand;
+Prepared to whirl the whizzing spear I stay,
+Till the fell fiend arise to seize her prey.
+Around the dungeon, studious to behold
+The hideous pest, my labouring eyes I roll’d;
+In vain! the dismal dungeon, dark as night,
+Veils the dire monster, and confounds the sight.
+
+“Now through the rocks, appall’d with deep dismay,
+We bend our course, and stem the desperate way;
+Dire Scylla there a scene of horror forms,
+And here Charybdis fills the deep with storms.
+When the tide rushes from her rumbling caves,
+The rough rock roars, tumultuous boil the waves;
+They toss, they foam, a wild confusion raise,
+Like waters bubbling o’er the fiery blaze;
+Eternal mists obscure the aërial plain,
+And high above the rock she spouts the main;
+When in her gulfs the rushing sea subsides,
+She drains the ocean with the refluent tides;
+The rock re-bellows with a thundering sound;
+Deep, wondrous deep, below appears the ground.
+
+“Struck with despair, with trembling hearts we view’d
+The yawning dungeon, and the tumbling flood;
+When lo! fierce Scylla stoop’d to seize her prey,
+Stretch’d her dire jaws, and swept six men away.
+Chiefs of renown! loud-echoing shrieks arise;
+I turn, and view them quivering in the skies;
+They call, and aid with outstretch’d arms implore;
+In vain they call! those arms are stretch’d no more.
+As from some rock that overhangs the flood
+The silent fisher casts the insidious food,
+With fraudful care he waits the finny prize,
+And sudden lifts it quivering to the skies:
+So the foul monster lifts her prey on high,
+So pant the wretches struggling in the sky;
+In the wide dungeon she devours her food,
+And the flesh trembles while she churns the blood.
+Worn as I am with griefs, with care decay’d,
+Never, I never scene so dire survey’d!
+My shivering blood, congeal’d, forgot to flow;
+Aghast I stood, a monument of woe!
+
+“Now from the rocks the rapid vessel flies,
+And the hoarse din like distant thunder dies;
+To Sol’s bright isle our voyage we pursue,
+And now the glittering mountains rise to view.
+There, sacred to the radiant god of day,
+Graze the fair herds, the flocks promiscuous stray:
+Then suddenly was heard along the main
+To low the ox, to bleat the woolly train.
+Straight to my anxious thoughts the sound convey’d
+The words of Circe and the Theban shade;
+Warn’d by their awful voice these shores to shun,
+With cautious fears oppress’d I thus begun:
+
+“‘O friends! O ever exercised in care!
+Hear Heaven’s commands, and reverence what ye hear!
+To fly these shores the prescient Theban shade
+And Circe warn! Oh be their voice obey’d;
+Some mighty woe relentless Heaven forebodes:
+Fly these dire regions, and revere the gods!’
+
+“While yet I spoke, a sudden sorrow ran
+Through every breast, and spread from man to man,
+Till wrathful thus Eurylochus began:
+
+“‘O cruel thou! some Fury sure has steel’d
+That stubborn soul, by toil untaught to yield!
+From sleep debarr’d, we sink from woes to woes:
+And cruel, enviest thou a short repose?
+Still must we restless rove, new seas explore,
+The sun descending, and so near the shore?
+And lo! the night begins her gloomy reign,
+And doubles all the terrors of the main:
+Oft in the dead of night loud winds arise,
+Lash the wild surge, and bluster in the skies.
+Oh, should the fierce south-west his rage display,
+And toss with rising storms the watery way,
+Though gods descend from heaven’s aërial plain
+To lend us aid, the gods descend in vain.
+Then while the night displays her awful shade,
+Sweet time of slumber! be the night obey’d!
+Haste ye to land! and when the morning ray
+Sheds her bright beam, pursue the destined way.’
+A sudden joy in every bosom rose:
+So will’d some demon, minister of woes!
+
+“To whom with grief: ‘O swift to be undone!
+Constrain’d I act what wisdom bids me shun.
+But yonder herbs and yonder flocks forbear;
+Attest the heavens, and call the gods to hear:
+Content, an innocent repast display,
+By Circe given, and fly the dangerous prey.’
+
+“Thus I: and while to shore the vessel flies,
+With hands uplifted they attest the skies:
+Then, where a fountain’s gurgling waters play,
+They rush to land, and end in feasts the day:
+They feed; they quaff; and now (their hunger fled)
+Sigh for their friends devour’d, and mourn the dead;
+Nor cease the tears till each in slumber shares
+A sweet forgetfulness of human cares.
+Now far the night advanced her gloomy reign,
+And setting stars roll’d down the azure plain:
+When at the voice of Jove wild whirlwinds rise,
+And clouds and double darkness veil the skies;
+The moon, the stars, the bright ethereal host
+Seem as extinct, and all their splendours lost:
+The furious tempest roars with dreadful sound:
+Air thunders, rolls the ocean, groans the ground.
+All night it raged: when morning rose to land
+We haul’d our bark, and moor’d it on the strand,
+Where in a beauteous grotto’s cool recess
+Dance the green Nereids of the neighbouring seas.
+
+“There while the wild winds whistled o’er the main,
+Thus careful I address’d the listening train:
+
+“‘O friends, be wise! nor dare the flocks destroy
+Of these fair pastures: if ye touch, ye die.
+Warn’d by the high command of Heaven, be awed:
+Holy the flocks, and dreadful is the god!
+That god who spreads the radiant beams of light,
+And views wide earth and heaven’s unmeasured height.’
+
+“And now the moon had run her monthly round,
+The south-east blustering with a dreadful sound:
+Unhurt the beeves, untouch’d the woolly train,
+Low through the grove, or touch the flowery plain:
+Then fail’d our food: then fish we make our prey,
+Or fowl that screaming haunt the watery way.
+Till now from sea or flood no succour found,
+Famine and meagre want besieged us round.
+Pensive and pale from grove to grove I stray’d,
+From the loud storms to find a sylvan shade;
+There o’er my hands the living wave I pour;
+And Heaven and Heaven’s immortal thrones implore,
+To calm the roarings of the stormy main,
+And guide me peaceful to my realms again.
+Then o’er my eyes the gods soft slumbers shed,
+While thus Eurylochus arising said:
+
+“‘O friends, a thousand ways frail mortals lead
+To the cold tomb, and dreadful all to tread;
+But dreadful most, when by a slow decay
+Pale hunger wastes the manly strength away.
+Why cease ye then to implore the powers above,
+And offer hecatombs to thundering Jove?
+Why seize ye not yon beeves, and fleecy prey?
+Arise unanimous; arise and slay!
+And if the gods ordain a safe return,
+To Phœbus shrines shall rise, and altars burn.
+But should the powers that o’er mankind preside
+Decree to plunge us in the whelming tide,
+Better to rush at once to shades below
+Than linger life away, and nourish woe.’
+
+“Thus he: the beeves around securely stray,
+When swift to ruin they invade the prey;
+They seize, they kill!—but for the rite divine.
+The barley fail’d, and for libations wine.
+Swift from the oak they strip the shady pride;
+And verdant leaves the flowery cake supplied.
+
+“With prayer they now address the ethereal train,
+Slay the selected beeves, and flay the slain;
+The thighs, with fat involved, divide with art,
+Strew’d o’er with morsels cut from every part.
+Water, instead of wine, is brought in urns,
+And pour’d profanely as the victim burns.
+The thighs thus offer’d, and the entrails dress’d,
+They roast the fragments, and prepare the feast.
+
+“‘Twas then soft slumber fled my troubled brain;
+Back to the bark I speed along the main.
+When lo! an odour from the feast exhales,
+Spreads o’er the coast and scents the tainted gales;
+A chilly fear congeal’d my vital blood,
+And thus, obtesting Heaven, I mourn’d aloud;
+
+“‘O sire of men and gods, immortal Jove!
+O all ye blissful powers that reign above!
+Why were my cares beguiled in short repose?
+O fatal slumber, paid with lasting woes!
+A deed so dreadful all the gods alarms,
+Vengeance is on the wing, and Heaven in arms!’
+
+“Meantime Lampetie mounts the aërial way,
+And kindles into rage the god of day;
+
+“‘Vengeance, ye powers (he cries), and then whose hand
+Aims the red bolt, and hurls the writhen brand!
+Slain are those herds which I with pride survey,
+When through the ports of heaven I pour the day,
+Or deep in ocean plunge the burning ray.
+Vengeance, ye gods! or I the skies forego,
+And bear the lamp of heaven to shades below.’
+
+“To whom the thundering Power: ‘O source of day
+Whose radiant lamp adorns the azure way,
+Still may thy beams through heaven’s bright portal rise,
+The joy of earth, the glory of the skies:
+Lo! my red arm I bare, my thunders guide,
+To dash the offenders in the whelming tide.’
+
+“To fair Calypso, from the bright abodes,
+Hermes convey’d these counsels of the gods.
+
+“Meantime from man to man my tongue exclaims,
+My wrath is kindled, and my soul in flames.
+In vain! I view perform’d the direful deed,
+Beeves, slain in heaps, along the ocean bleed.
+
+“Now heaven gave signs of wrath: along the ground
+Crept the raw hides, and with a bellowing sound
+Roar’d the dead limbs; the burning entrails groan’d.
+Six guilty days my wretched mates employ
+In impious feasting, and unhallowed joy;
+The seventh arose, and now the sire of gods
+Rein’d the rough storms; and calm’d the tossing floods:
+With speed the bark we climb; the spacious sails.
+Loosed from the yards invite the impelling gales.
+Past sight of shore, along the surge we bound,
+And all above is sky, and ocean all around;
+When lo! a murky cloud the thunderer forms
+Full o’er our heads, and blackens heaven with storms.
+Night dwells o’er all the deep: and now outflies
+The gloomy west, and whistles in the skies.
+The mountain-billows roar! the furious blast
+Howls o’er the shroud, and rends it from the mast:
+The mast gives way, and, crackling as it bends,
+Tears up the deck; then all at once descends:
+The pilot by the tumbling ruin slain,
+Dash’d from the helm, falls headlong in the main.
+Then Jove in anger bids his thunders roll,
+And forky lightnings flash from pole to pole:
+Fierce at our heads his deadly bolt he aims,
+Red with uncommon wrath, and wrapp’d in flames:
+Full on the bark it fell; now high, now low,
+Toss’d and retoss’d, it reel’d beneath the blow;
+At once into the main the crew it shook:
+Sulphurous odours rose, and smouldering smoke.
+Like fowl that haunt the floods, they sink, they rise,
+Now lost, now seen, with shrieks and dreadful cries;
+And strive to gain the bark, but Jove denies.
+Firm at the helm I stand, when fierce the main
+Rush’d with dire noise, and dash’d the sides in twain;
+Again impetuous drove the furious blast,
+Snapp’d the strong helm, and bore to sea the mast.
+Firm to the mast with cords the helm I bind,
+And ride aloft, to Providence resign’d,
+Through tumbling billows and a war of wind.
+“Now sunk the west, and now a southern breeze,
+More dreadful than the tempest lash’d the seas;
+For on the rocks it bore where Scylla raves,
+And dire Charybdis rolls her thundering waves.
+All night I drove; and at the dawn of day,
+Fast by the rocks beheld the desperate way;
+Just when the sea within her gulfs subsides,
+And in the roaring whirlpools rush the tides,
+Swift from the float I vaulted with a bound,
+The lofty fig-tree seized, and clung around;
+So to the beam the bat tenacious clings,
+And pendent round it clasps his leather wings.
+High in the air the tree its boughs display’d,
+And o’er the dungeon cast a dreadful shade;
+All unsustain’d between the wave and sky,
+Beneath my feet the whirling billows fly.
+What time the judge forsakes the noisy bar
+To take repast, and stills the wordy war,
+Charybdis, rumbling from her inmost caves,
+The mast refunded on her refluent waves.
+Swift from the tree, the floating mass to gain,
+Sudden I dropp’d amidst the flashing main;
+Once more undaunted on the ruin rode,
+And oar’d with labouring arms along the flood.
+Unseen I pass’d by Scylla’s dire abodes.
+So Jove decreed (dread sire of men and gods).
+Then nine long days I plow’d the calmer seas,
+Heaved by the surge, and wafted by the breeze.
+Weary and wet the Ogygian shores I gain,
+When the tenth sun descended to the main.
+There, in Calypso’s ever-fragrant bowers,
+Refresh’d I lay, and joy beguiled the hours.
+“My following fates to thee, O king, are known,
+And the bright partner of thy royal throne.
+Enough: in misery can words avail?
+And what so tedious as a twice-told tale?”
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XIII.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE ARRIVAL OF ULYSSES IN ITHACA.
+
+
+Ulysses takes his leave of Alcinous and Arete, and embarks in the
+evening. Next morning the ship arrives at Ithaca; where the sailors, as
+Ulysses is yet sleeping, lay him on the shore with all his treasures.
+On their return, Neptune changes their ship into a rock. In the
+meantime Ulysses, awaking, knows not his native Ithaca, by reason of a
+mist which Pallas had cast around him. He breaks into loud
+lamentations; till the goddess appearing to him in the form of a
+shepherd, discovers the country to him, and points out the particular
+places. He then tells a feigned story of his adventures, upon which she
+manifests herself, and they consult together of the measures to be
+taken to destroy the suitors. To conceal his return, and disguise his
+person the more effectually, she changes him into the figure of an old
+beggar.
+
+
+He ceased; but left so pleasing on their ear
+His voice, that listening still they seem’d to hear.
+A pause of silence hush’d the shady rooms:
+The grateful conference then the king resumes:
+
+“Whatever toils the great Ulysses pass’d,
+Beneath this happy roof they end at last;
+No longer now from shore to shore to roam,
+Smooth seas and gentle winds invite him home.
+But hear me, princes! whom these walls inclose,
+For whom my chanter sings: and goblet flows
+With wine unmix’d (an honour due to age,
+To cheer the grave, and warm the poet’s rage);
+Though labour’d gold and many a dazzling vest
+Lie heap’d already for our godlike guest;
+Without new treasures let him not remove,
+Large, and expressive of the public love:
+Each peer a tripod, each a vase bestow,
+A general tribute, which the state shall owe.”
+
+This sentence pleased: then all their steps address’d
+To separate mansions, and retired to rest.
+
+Now did the rosy-finger’d morn arise,
+And shed her sacred light along the skies.
+Down to the haven and the ships in haste
+They bore the treasures, and in safety placed.
+The king himself the vases ranged with care;
+Then bade his followers to the feast prepare.
+A victim ox beneath the sacred hand
+Of great Alcinous falls, and stains the sand.
+To Jove the Eternal (power above all powers!
+Who wings the winds, and darkens heaven with showers)
+The flames ascend: till evening they prolong
+The rites, more sacred made by heavenly song;
+For in the midst, with public honours graced,
+Thy lyre divine, Demodocus! was placed.
+All, but Ulysses, heard with fix’d delight;
+He sate, and eyed the sun, and wish’d the night;
+Slow seem’d the sun to move, the hours to roll,
+His native home deep-imaged in his soul.
+As the tired ploughman, spent with stubborn toil,
+Whose oxen long have torn the furrow’d soil,
+Sees with delight the sun’s declining ray,
+When home with feeble knees he bends his way
+To late repast (the day’s hard labour done);
+So to Ulysses welcome set the sun;
+Then instant to Alcinous and the rest
+(The Scherian states) he turn’d, and thus address’d:
+
+“O thou, the first in merit and command!
+And you the peers and princes of the land!
+May every joy be yours! nor this the least,
+When due libation shall have crown’d the feast,
+Safe to my home to send your happy guest.
+Complete are now the bounties you have given,
+Be all those bounties but confirm’d by Heaven!
+So may I find, when all my wanderings cease,
+My consort blameless, and my friends in peace.
+On you be every bliss; and every day,
+In home-felt joys, delighted roll away;
+Yourselves, your wives, your long-descending race,
+May every god enrich with every grace!
+Sure fix’d on virtue may your nation stand,
+And public evil never touch the land!”
+
+His words well weigh’d, the general voice approved
+Benign, and instant his dismission moved,
+The monarch to Pontonus gave the sign.
+To fill the goblet high with rosy wine;
+“Great Jove the Father first (he cried) implore;
+Then send the stranger to his native shore.”
+
+The luscious wine the obedient herald brought;
+Around the mansion flow’d the purple draught;
+Each from his seat to each immortal pours,
+Whom glory circles in the Olympian bowers
+Ulysses sole with air majestic stands,
+The bowl presenting to Arete’s hands;
+Then thus: “O queen, farewell! be still possess’d
+Of dear remembrance, blessing still and bless’d!
+Till age and death shall gently call thee hence,
+(Sure fate of every mortal excellence!)
+Farewell! and joys successive ever spring
+To thee, to thine, the people, and the king!”
+
+Thus he: then parting prints the sandy shore
+To the fair port: a herald march’d before,
+Sent by Alcinous; of Arete’s train
+Three chosen maids attend him to the main;
+This does a tunic and white vest convey,
+A various casket that, of rich inlay,
+And bread and wine the third. The cheerful mates
+Safe in the hollow poop dispose the cates;
+Upon the deck soft painted robes they spread
+With linen cover’d, for the hero’s bed.
+He climbed the lofty stern; then gently press’d
+The swelling couch, and lay composed to rest.
+
+Now placed in order, the Phæacian train
+Their cables loose, and launch into the main;
+At once they bend, and strike their equal oars,
+And leave the sinking hills and lessening shores.
+While on the deck the chief in silence lies,
+And pleasing slumbers steal upon his eyes.
+As fiery coursers in the rapid race
+Urged by fierce drivers through the dusty space,
+Toss their high heads, and scour along the plain,
+So mounts the bounding vessel o’er the main.
+Back to the stern the parted billows flow,
+And the black ocean foams and roars below.
+
+Thus with spread sails the winged galley flies;
+Less swift an eagle cuts the liquid skies;
+Divine Ulysses was her sacred load,
+A man, in wisdom equal to a god!
+Much danger, long and mighty toils he bore,
+In storms by sea, and combats on the shore;
+All which soft sleep now banish’d from his breast,
+Wrapp’d in a pleasing, deep, and death-like rest.
+
+But when the morning-star with early ray
+Flamed in the front of heaven, and promised day;
+Like distant clouds the mariner descries
+Fair Ithaca’s emerging hills arise.
+Far from the town a spacious port appears,
+Sacred to Phorcys’ power, whose name it bears;
+Two craggy rocks projecting to the main,
+The roaring wind’s tempestuous rage restrain;
+Within the waves in softer murmurs glide,
+And ships secure without their halsers ride.
+High at the head a branching olive grows,
+And crowns the pointed cliffs with shady boughs.
+Beneath, a gloomy grotto’s cool recess
+Delights the Nereids of the neighbouring seas,
+Where bowls and urns were form’d of living stone,
+And massy beams in native marble shone,
+On which the labours of the nymphs were roll’d,
+Their webs divine of purple mix’d with gold.
+Within the cave the clustering bees attend
+Their waxen works, or from the roof depend.
+Perpetual waters o’er the pavement glide;
+Two marble doors unfold on either side;
+Sacred the south, by which the gods descend;
+But mortals enter at the northern end.
+
+Thither they bent, and haul’d their ship to land
+(The crooked keel divides the yellow sand).
+Ulysses sleeping on his couch they bore,
+And gently placed him on the rocky shore.
+His treasures next, Alcinous’ gifts, they laid
+In the wild olive’s unfrequented shade,
+Secure from theft; then launch’d the bark again,
+Resumed their oars, and measured back the main,
+Nor yet forgot old Ocean’s dread supreme,
+The vengeance vow’d for eyeless Polypheme.
+Before the throne of mighty Jove he stood,
+And sought the secret counsels of the god.
+
+“Shall then no more, O sire of gods! be mine
+The rights and honours of a power divine?
+Scorn’d e’en by man, and (oh severe disgrace!)
+By soft Phæacians, my degenerate race!
+Against yon destined head in vain I swore,
+And menaced vengeance, ere he reach’d his shore;
+To reach his natal shore was thy decree;
+Mild I obey’d, for who shall war with thee?
+Behold him landed, careless and asleep,
+From all the eluded dangers of the deep;
+Lo where he lies, amidst a shining store
+Of brass, rich garments, and refulgent ore;
+And bears triumphant to his native isle
+A prize more worth than Ilion’s noble spoil.”
+
+To whom the Father of the immortal powers,
+Who swells the clouds, and gladdens earth with showers,
+“Can mighty Neptune thus of man complain?
+Neptune, tremendous o’er the boundless main!
+Revered and awful e’en in heaven’s abodes,
+Ancient and great! a god above the gods!
+If that low race offend thy power divine
+(Weak, daring creatures!) is not vengeance thine?
+Go, then, the guilty at thy will chastise.”
+He said. The shaker of the earth replies:
+
+“This then, I doom: to fix the gallant ship,
+A mark of vengeance on the sable deep;
+To warn the thoughtless, self-confiding train,
+No more unlicensed thus to brave the main.
+Full in their port a Shady hill shall rise,
+If such thy will.”—“We will it (Jove replies).
+E’en when with transport blackening all the strand,
+The swarming people hail their ship to land,
+Fix her for ever, a memorial stone:
+Still let her seem to sail, and seem alone.
+The trembling crowds shall see the sudden shade
+Of whelming mountains overhang their head!”
+
+With that the god whose earthquakes rock the ground
+Fierce to Phæacia cross’d the vast profound.
+Swift as a swallow sweeps the liquid way,
+The winged pinnace shot along the sea.
+The god arrests her with a sudden stroke,
+And roots her down an everlasting rock.
+Aghast the Scherians stand in deep surprise;
+All press to speak, all question with their eyes.
+What hands unseen the rapid bark restrain!
+And yet it swims, or seems to swim, the main!
+Thus they, unconscious of the deed divine;
+Till great Alcinous, rising, own’d the sign.
+
+“Behold the long predestined day! (he cries;)
+O certain faith of ancient prophecies
+These ears have heard my royal sire disclose
+A dreadful story, big with future woes;
+How, moved with wrath, that careless we convey
+Promiscuous every guest to every bay,
+Stern Neptune raged; and how by his command
+Firm rooted in the surge a ship should stand
+(A monument of wrath); and mound on mound
+Should hide our walls, or whelm beneath the ground.
+
+“The Fates have follow’d as declared the seer.
+Be humbled, nations! and your monarch hear.
+No more unlicensed brave the deeps, no more
+With every stranger pass from shore to shore;
+On angry Neptune now for mercy call;
+To his high name let twelve black oxen fall.
+So may the god reverse his purposed will,
+Nor o’er our city hang the dreadful hill.”
+
+The monarch spoke: they trembled and obey’d,
+Forth on the sands the victim oxen led;
+The gathered tribes before the altars stand,
+And chiefs and rulers, a majestic band.
+The king of ocean all the tribes implore;
+The blazing altars redden all the shore.
+
+Meanwhile Ulysses in his country lay,
+Released from sleep, and round him might survey
+The solitary shore and rolling sea.
+Yet had his mind through tedious absence lost
+The dear resemblance of his native coast;
+Besides, Minerva, to secure her care,
+Diffused around a veil of thickened air;
+For so the gods ordain’d to keep unseen
+His royal person from his friends and queen;
+Till the proud suitors for their crimes afford
+An ample vengeance to their injured lord.
+
+Now all the land another prospect bore,
+Another port appear’d, another shore.
+And long-continued ways, and winding floods,
+And unknown mountains, crown’d with unknown woods
+Pensive and slow, with sudden grief oppress’d,
+The king arose, and beat his careful breast,
+Cast a long look o’er all the coast and main,
+And sought, around, his native realm in vain;
+Then with erected eyes stood fix’d in woe,
+And as he spoke, the tears began to flow.
+
+“Ye gods (he cried), upon what barren coast,
+In what new region, is Ulysses toss’d?
+Possess’d by wild barbarians, fierce in arms?
+Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?
+Where shall this treasure now in safely lie?
+And whither, whither its sad owner fly?
+Ah, why did I Alcinous’ grace implore?
+Ah, why forsake Phæacia’s happy shore?
+Some juster prince perhaps had entertain’d,
+And safe restored me to my native land.
+Is this the promised, long-expected coast,
+And this the faith Phæacia’s rulers boast?
+O righteous gods! of all the great, how few
+Are just to Heaven, and to their promise true!
+But he, the power to whose all-seeing eyes
+The deeds of men appear without disguise,
+’Tis his alone to avenge the wrongs I bear;
+For still the oppress’d are his peculiar care.
+To count these presents, and from thence to prove,
+Their faith is mine; the rest belongs to Jove.”
+
+Then on the sands he ranged his wealthy store,
+The gold, the vests, the tripods number’d o’er:
+All these he found, but still in error lost,
+Disconsolate he wanders on the coast,
+Sighs for his country, and laments again
+To the deaf rocks, and hoarse-resounding main.
+When lo! the guardian goddess of the wise,
+Celestial Pallas, stood before his eyes;
+In show a youthful swain, of form divine,
+Who seem’d descended from some princely line.
+A graceful robe her slender body dress’d;
+Around her shoulders flew the waving vest;
+Her decent hand a shining javelin bore,
+And painted sandals on her feet she wore.
+To whom the king: “Whoe’er of human race
+Thou art, that wanderest in this desert place,
+With joy to thee, as to some god I bend,
+To thee my treasures and myself commend.
+O tell a wretch in exile doom’d to stray,
+What air I breathe, what country I survey?
+The fruitful continent’s extremest bound,
+Or some fair isle which Neptune’s arms surround?
+
+“From what far clime (said she) remote from fame
+Arrivest thou here, a stranger to our name?
+Thou seest an island, not to those unknown
+Whose hills are brighten’d by the rising sun,
+Nor those that placed beneath his utmost reign
+Behold him sinking in the western main.
+The rugged soil allows no level space
+For flying chariots, or the rapid race;
+Yet, not ungrateful to the peasant’s pain,
+Suffices fulness to the swelling grain;
+The loaded trees their various fruits produce,
+And clustering grapes afford a generous juice;
+Woods crown our mountains, and in every grove
+The bounding goats and frisking heifers rove;
+Soft rains and kindly dews refresh the field,
+And rising springs eternal verdure yield.
+E’en to those shores is Ithaca renown’d,
+Where Troy’s majestic ruins strew the ground.”
+
+At this, the chief with transport was possess’d;
+His panting heart exulted in his breast;
+Yet, well dissembling his untimely joys,
+And veiling truth in plausible disguise,
+Thus, with an air sincere, in fiction bold,
+His ready tale the inventive hero told:
+
+“Oft have I heard in Crete this island’s name;
+For ’twas from Crete, my native soil, I came,
+Self-banished thence. I sail’d before the wind,
+And left my children and my friends behind.
+From fierce Idomeneus’ revenge I flew,
+Whose son, the swift Orsilochus, I slew
+(With brutal force he seized my Trojan prey,
+Due to the toils of many a bloody day).
+Unseen I ’scaped, and favour’d by the night,
+In a Phoenician vessel took my flight,
+For Pyle or Elis bound; but tempests toss’d
+And raging billows drove us on your coast.
+In dead of night an unknown port we gain’d;
+Spent with fatigue, and slept secure on land.
+But ere the rosy morn renew’d the day,
+While in the embrace of pleasing sleep I lay,
+Sudden, invited by auspicious gales,
+They land my goods, and hoist their flying sails.
+Abandon’d here, my fortune I deplore
+A hapless exile on a foreign shore,”
+
+Thus while he spoke, the blue-eyed maid began
+With pleasing smiles to view the godlike man;
+Then changed her form: and now, divinely bright,
+Jove’s heavenly daughter stood confess’d to sight;
+Like a fair virgin in her beauty’s bloom,
+Skill’d in the illustrious labours of the loom.
+
+“O still the same Ulysses! (she rejoin’d,)
+In useful craft successfully refined!
+Artful in speech, in action, and in mind!
+Sufficed it not, that, thy long labours pass’d,
+Secure thou seest thy native shore at last?
+But this to me? who, like thyself, excel
+In arts of counsel and dissembling well;
+To me? whose wit exceeds the powers divine,
+No less than mortals are surpass’d by thine.
+Know’st thou not me; who made thy life my care,
+Through ten years’ wandering, and through ten years’ war;
+Who taught thee arts, Alcinous to persuade,
+To raise his wonder, and engage his aid;
+And now appear, thy treasures to protect,
+Conceal thy person, thy designs direct,
+And tell what more thou must from Fate expect;
+Domestic woes far heavier to be borne!
+The pride of fools, and slaves’ insulting scorn?
+But thou be silent, nor reveal thy state;
+Yield to the force of unresisted Fate,
+And bear unmoved the wrongs of base mankind,
+The last, and hardest, conquest of the mind.”
+
+“Goddess of wisdom! (Ithacus replies,)
+He who discerns thee must be truly wise,
+So seldom view’d and ever in disguise!
+When the bold Argives led their warring powers,
+Against proud Ilion’s well-defended towers,
+Ulysses was thy care, celestial maid!
+Graced with thy sight, and favoured with thy aid.
+But when the Trojan piles in ashes lay,
+And bound for Greece we plough’d the watery way;
+Our fleet dispersed, and driven from coast to coast,
+Thy sacred presence from that hour I lost;
+Till I beheld thy radiant form once more,
+And heard thy counsels on Phæacia’s shore.
+But, by the almighty author of thy race,
+Tell me, oh tell, is this my native place?
+For much I fear, long tracts of land and sea
+Divide this coast from distant Ithaca;
+The sweet delusion kindly you impose,
+To soothe my hopes, and mitigate my woes.”
+
+Thus he. The blue-eyed goddess thus replies;
+“How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise!
+Who, versed in fortune, fear the flattering show,
+And taste not half the bliss the gods bestow.
+The more shall Pallas aid thy just desires,
+And guard the wisdom which herself inspires.
+Others long absent from their native place,
+Straight seek their home, and fly with eager pace
+To their wives’ arms, and children’s dear embrace.
+Not thus Ulysses; he decrees to prove
+His subjects’ faith, and queen’s suspected love;
+Who mourn’d her lord twice ten revolving years,
+And wastes the days in grief, the nights in tears.
+But Pallas knew (thy friends and navy lost)
+Once more ’twas given thee to behold thy coast;
+Yet how could I with adverse Fate engage,
+And mighty Neptune’s unrelenting rage?
+Now lift thy longing eyes, while I restore
+The pleasing prospect of thy native shore.
+Bebold the port of Phorcys! fenced around
+With rocky mountains, and with olives crown’d,
+Behold the gloomy grot! whose cool recess
+Delights the Nereids of the neighbouring seas;
+Whose now-neglected altars in thy reign
+Blush’d with the blood of sheep and oxen slain,
+Behold! where Neritus the clouds divides,
+And shakes the waving forests on his sides.”
+
+So spake the goddess; and the prospect clear’d,
+The mists dispersed, and all the coast appeared.
+The king with joy confess’d his place of birth,
+And on his knees salutes his mother earth;
+Then, with his suppliant hands upheld in air,
+Thus to the sea-green sisters sends his prayer;
+
+“All hail! ye virgin daughters of the main!
+Ye streams, beyond my hopes, beheld again!
+To you once more your own Ulysses bows;
+Attend his transports, and receive his vows!
+If Jove prolong my days, and Pallas crown
+The growing virtues of my youthful son,
+To you shall rites divine be ever paid,
+And grateful offerings on your altars laid.”
+
+Thus then Minerva: “From that anxious breast
+Dismiss those cares, and leave to heaven the rest.
+Our task be now thy treasured stores to save,
+Deep in the close recesses of the cave;
+Then future means consult.” She spoke, and trod
+The shady grot, that brighten’d with the god.
+The closest caverns of the grot she sought;
+The gold, the brass, the robes, Ulysses brought;
+These in the secret gloom the chief disposed;
+The entrance with a rock the goddess closed.
+
+Now, seated in the olive’s sacred shade,
+Confer the hero and the martial maid.
+The goddess of the azure eyes began:
+“Son of Laertes! much-experienced man!
+The suitor-train thy earliest care demand,
+Of that luxurious race to rid the land;
+Three years thy house their lawless rule has seen,
+And proud addresses to the matchless queen.
+But she thy absence mourns from day to day,
+And inly bleeds, and silent wastes away;
+Elusive of the bridal hour, she gives
+Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives.”
+
+To this Ulysses: “O celestial maid!
+Praised be thy counsel, and thy timely aid;
+Else had I seen my native walls in vain,
+Like great Atrides, just restored and slain.
+Vouchsafe the means of vengeance to debate,
+And plan with all thy arts the scene of fate.
+Then, then be present, and my soul inspire,
+As when we wrapp’d Troy’s heaven-built walls in fire.
+Though leagued against me hundred heroes stand.
+Hundreds shall fall, if Pallas aid my hand.”
+
+She answer’d: “In the dreadful day of fight
+Know, I am with thee, strong in all my might.
+If thou but equal to thyself be found,
+What gasping numbers then shall press the ground!
+What human victims stain the feastful floor!
+How wide the pavements float with guilty gore!
+It fits thee now to wear a dark disguise,
+And secret walk unknown to mortal eyes.
+For this, my hand shall wither every grace,
+And every elegance of form and face;
+O’er thy smooth skin a bark of wrinkles spread,
+Turn hoar the auburn honours of thy head;
+Disfigure every limb with coarse attire,
+And in thy eyes extinguish all the fire;
+Add all the wants and the decays of life;
+Estrange thee from thy own; thy son, thy wife;
+From the loathed object every sight shall turn,
+And the blind suitors their destruction scorn.
+
+“Go first the master of thy herds to find,
+True to his charge, a loyal swain and kind;
+For thee he sighs; and to the loyal heir
+And chaste Penelope extends his care.
+At the Coracian rock he now resides,
+Where Arethusa’s sable water glides;
+The sable water and the copious mast
+Swell the fat herd; luxuriant, large repast!
+With him rest peaceful in the rural cell,
+And all you ask his faithful tongue shall tell.
+Me into other realms my cares convey,
+To Sparta, still with female beauty gay;
+For know, to Sparta thy loved offspring came,
+To learn thy fortunes from the voice of Fame.”
+
+At this the father, with a father’s care:
+“Must he too suffer? he, O goddess! bear
+Of wanderings and of woes a wretched share?
+Through the wild ocean plough the dangerous way,
+And leave his fortunes and his house a prey?
+Why would’st not thou, O all-enlighten’d mind!
+Inform him certain, and protect him, kind?”
+
+To whom Minerva: “Be thy soul at rest;
+And know, whatever heaven ordains is best.
+To fame I sent him, to acquire renown;
+To other regions is his virtue known;
+Secure he sits, near great Atrides placed;
+With friendships strengthen’d, and with honours graced,
+But lo! an ambush waits his passage o’er;
+Fierce foes insidious intercept the shore;
+In vain; far sooner all the murderous brood
+This injured land shall fatten with their blood.”
+
+She spake, then touch’d him with her powerful wand:
+The skin shrunk up, and wither’d at her hand;
+A swift old age o’er all his members spread;
+A sudden frost was sprinkled on his head;
+Nor longer in the heavy eye-ball shined
+The glance divine, forth-beaming from the mind.
+His robe, which spots indelible besmear,
+In rags dishonest flutters with the air:
+A stag’s torn hide is lapp’d around his reins;
+A rugged staff his trembling hand sustains;
+And at his side a wretched scrip was hung,
+Wide-patch’d, and knotted to a twisted thong.
+So looked the chief, so moved: to mortal eyes
+Object uncouth! a man of miseries!
+While Pallas, cleaving the wild fields of air,
+To Sparta flies, Telemachus her care.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XIV.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE CONVERSATION WITH EUMAEUS.
+
+
+Ulysses arrives in disguise at the house of Eumaeus, where he is
+received, entertained, and lodged with the utmost hospitality. The
+several discourses of that faithful old servant, with the feigned story
+told by Ulysses to conceal himself, and other conversations on various
+subjects, take up this entire book.
+
+
+But he, deep-musing, o’er the mountains stray’d
+Through mazy thickets of the woodland shade,
+And cavern’d ways, the shaggy coast along
+With cliffs and nodding forests overhung.
+Eumaeus at his sylvan lodge he sought,
+A faithful servant, and without a fault.
+Ulysses found him busied as he sate
+Before the threshold of his rustic gate;
+Around the mansion in a circle shone
+A rural portico of rugged stone
+(In absence of his lord with honest toil
+His own industrious hands had raised the pile).
+The wall was stone from neighbouring quarries borne,
+Encircled with a fence of native thorn,
+And strong with pales, by many a weary stroke
+Of stubborn labour hewn from heart of oak:
+Frequent and thick. Within the space were rear’d
+Twelve ample cells, the lodgments of his herd.
+Full fifty pregnant females each contain’d;
+The males without (a smaller race) remain’d;
+Doom’d to supply the suitors’ wasteful feast,
+A stock by daily luxury decreased;
+Now scarce four hundred left. These to defend,
+Four savage dogs, a watchful guard, attend.
+Here sat Eumaeus, and his cares applied
+To form strong buskins of well-season’d hide.
+Of four assistants who his labour share,
+Three now were absent on the rural care;
+The fourth drove victims to a suitor train:
+But he, of ancient faith, a simple swain,
+Sigh’d, while he furnish’d the luxurious board,
+And wearied Heaven with wishes for his lord.
+
+Soon as Ulysses near the inclosure drew,
+With open mouths the furious mastiffs flew:
+Down sat the sage, and cautious to withstand,
+Let fall the offensive truncheon from his hand.
+Sudden, the master runs; aloud he calls;
+And from his hasty hand the leather falls:
+With showers of stones he drives then far away:
+The scattering dogs around at distance bay.
+
+“Unhappy stranger! (thus the faithful swain
+Began with accent gracious and humane),
+What sorrow had been mine, if at my gate
+Thy reverend age had met a shameful fate!
+Enough of woes already have I known;
+Enough my master’s sorrows and my own.
+While here (ungrateful task!) his herds I feed,
+Ordain’d for lawless rioters to bleed!
+Perhaps, supported at another’s board!
+Far from his country roams my hapless lord;
+Or sigh’d in exile forth his latest breath,
+Now cover’d with the eternal shade of death!
+
+“But enter this my homely roof, and see
+Our woods not void of hospitality.
+Then tell me whence thou art, and what the share
+Of woes and wanderings thou wert born to bear.”
+
+He said, and, seconding the kind request,
+With friendly step precedes his unknown guest.
+A shaggy goat’s soft hide beneath him spread,
+And with fresh rushes heap’d an ample bed;
+Jove touch’d the hero’s tender soul, to find
+So just reception from a heart so kind:
+And “Oh, ye gods! with all your blessings grace
+(He thus broke forth) this friend of human race!”
+
+The swain replied: “It never was our guise
+To slight the poor, or aught humane despise:
+For Jove unfolds our hospitable door,
+’Tis Jove that sends the stranger and the poor,
+Little, alas! is all the good I can
+A man oppress’d, dependent, yet a man:
+Accept such treatment as a swain affords,
+Slave to the insolence of youthful lords!
+Far hence is by unequal gods removed
+That man of bounties, loving and beloved!
+To whom whate’er his slave enjoys is owed,
+And more, had Fate allow’d, had been bestow’d:
+But Fate condemn’d him to a foreign shore;
+Much have I sorrow’d, but my Master more.
+Now cold he lies, to death’s embrace resign’d:
+Ah, perish Helen! perish all her kind!
+For whose cursed cause, in Agamemnon’s name,
+He trod so fatally the paths of fame.”
+
+His vest succinct then girding round his waist,
+Forth rush’d the swain with hospitable haste.
+Straight to the lodgments of his herd he run,
+Where the fat porkers slept beneath the sun;
+Of two, his cutlass launch’d the spouting blood;
+These quarter’d, singed, and fix’d on forks of wood,
+All hasty on the hissing coals he threw;
+And smoking, back the tasteful viands drew.
+Broachers and all then an the board display’d
+The ready meal, before Ulysses laid
+With flour imbrown’d; next mingled wine yet new,
+And luscious as the bees’ nectareous dew:
+Then sate, companion of the friendly feast,
+With open look; and thus bespoke his guest:
+“Take with free welcome what our hands prepare,
+Such food as falls to simple servants’ share;
+The best our lords consume; those thoughtless peers,
+Rich without bounty, guilty without fears;
+Yet sure the gods their impious acts detest,
+And honour justice and the righteous breast.
+Pirates and conquerors of harden’d mind,
+The foes of peace, and scourges of mankind,
+To whom offending men are made a prey
+When Jove in vengeance gives a land away;
+E’en these, when of their ill-got spoils possess’d,
+Find sure tormentors in the guilty breast:
+Some voice of God close whispering from within,
+‘Wretch! this is villainy, and this is sin.’
+But these, no doubt, some oracle explore,
+That tells, the great Ulysses is no more.
+Hence springs their confidence, and from our sighs
+Their rapine strengthens, and their riots rise:
+Constant as Jove the night and day bestows,
+Bleeds a whole hecatomb, a vintage flows.
+None match’d this hero’s wealth, of all who reign
+O’er the fair islands of the neighbouring main.
+Nor all the monarchs whose far-dreaded sway
+The wide-extended continents obey:
+First, on the main land, of Ulysses’ breed
+Twelve herds, twelve flocks, on ocean’s margin feed;
+As many stalls for shaggy goats are rear’d;
+As many lodgments for the tusky herd;
+Two foreign keepers guard: and here are seen
+Twelve herds of goats that graze our utmost green;
+To native pastors is their charge assign’d,
+And mine the care to feed the bristly kind;
+Each day the fattest bleeds of either herd,
+All to the suitors’ wasteful board preferr’d.”
+Thus he, benevolent: his unknown guest
+With hunger keen devours the savoury feast;
+While schemes of vengeance ripen in his breast.
+Silent and thoughtful while the board he eyed,
+Eumaeus pours on high the purple tide;
+The king with smiling looks his joy express’d,
+And thus the kind inviting host address’d:
+
+“Say now, what man is he, the man deplored,
+So rich, so potent, whom you style your lord?
+Late with such affluence and possessions bless’d,
+And now in honour’s glorious bed at rest.
+Whoever was the warrior, he must be
+To fame no stranger, nor perhaps to me:
+Who (so the gods and so the Fates ordain’d)
+Have wander’d many a sea, and many a land.”
+
+“Small is the faith the prince and queen ascribe
+(Replied Eumaeus) to the wandering tribe.
+For needy strangers still to flattery fly,
+And want too oft betrays the tongue to lie.
+Each vagrant traveller, that touches here,
+Deludes with fallacies the royal ear,
+To dear remembrance makes his image rise,
+And calls the springing sorrows from her eyes.
+Such thou mayst be. But he whose name you crave
+Moulders in earth, or welters on the wave,
+Or food for fish or dogs his relics lie,
+Or torn by birds are scatter’d through the sky.
+So perish’d he: and left (for ever lost)
+Much woe to all, but sure to me the most.
+So mild a master never shall I find;
+Less dear the parents whom I left behind,
+Less soft my mother, less my father kind.
+Not with such transport would my eyes run o’er,
+Again to hail them in their native shore,
+As loved Ulysses once more to embrace,
+Restored and breathing in his natal place.
+That name for ever dread, yet ever dear,
+E’en in his absence I pronounce with fear:
+In my respect, he bears a prince’s part;
+But lives a very brother in my heart.”
+
+Thus spoke the faithful swain, and thus rejoin’d
+The master of his grief, the man of patient mind:
+“Ulysses, friend! shall view his old abodes
+(Distrustful as thou art), nor doubt the gods.
+Nor speak I rashly, but with faith averr’d,
+And what I speak attesting Heaven has heard.
+If so, a cloak and vesture be my meed:
+Till his return no title shall I plead,
+Though certain be my news, and great my need.
+Whom want itself can force untruths to tell,
+My soul detests him as the gates of hell.
+
+“Thou first be witness, hospitable Jove!
+And every god inspiring social love!
+And witness every household power that waits,
+Guard of these fires, and angel of these gates!
+Ere the next moon increase or this decay,
+His ancient realms Ulysses shall survey,
+In blood and dust each proud oppressor mourn,
+And the lost glories of his house return.”
+
+“Nor shall that meed be thine, nor ever more
+Shall loved Ulysses hail this happy shore.
+(Replied Eumaeus): to the present hour
+Now turn thy thought, and joys within our power.
+From sad reflection let my soul repose;
+The name of him awakes a thousand woes.
+But guard him, gods! and to these arms restore!
+Not his true consort can desire him more;
+Not old Laertes, broken with despair:
+Not young Telemachus, his blooming heir.
+Alas, Telemachus! my sorrows flow
+Afresh for thee, my second cause of woe!
+Like some fair plant set by a heavenly hand,
+He grew, he flourish’d, and he bless’d the land;
+In all the youth his father’s image shined,
+Bright in his person, brighter in his mind.
+What man, or god, deceived his better sense,
+Far on the swelling seas to wander hence?
+To distant Pylos hapless is he gone,
+To seek his father’s fate and find his own!
+For traitors wait his way, with dire design
+To end at once the great Arcesian line.
+But let us leave him to their wills above;
+The fates of men are in the hand of Jove.
+And now, my venerable guest! declare
+Your name, your parents, and your native air:
+Sincere from whence begun, your course relate,
+And to what ship I owe the friendly freight?”
+
+Thus he: and thus (with prompt invention bold)
+The cautious chief his ready story told.
+
+“On dark reserve what better can prevail,
+Or from the fluent tongue produce the tale,
+Than when two friends, alone, in peaceful place
+Confer, and wines and cates the table grace;
+But most, the kind inviter’s cheerful face?
+Thus might we sit, with social goblets crown’d,
+Till the whole circle of the year goes round:
+Not the whole circle of the year would close
+My long narration of a life of woes.
+But such was Heaven’s high will! Know then, I came
+From sacred Crete, and from a sire of fame:
+Castor Hylacides (that name he bore),
+Beloved and honour’d in his native shore;
+Bless’d in his riches, in his children more.
+Sprung of a handmaid, from a bought embrace,
+I shared his kindness with his lawful race:
+But when that fate, which all must undergo,
+From earth removed him to the shades below,
+The large domain his greedy sons divide,
+And each was portion’d as the lots decide.
+Little, alas! was left my wretched share,
+Except a house, a covert from the air:
+But what by niggard fortune was denied,
+A willing widow’s copious wealth supplied.
+My valour was my plea, a gallant mind,
+That, true to honour, never lagg’d behind
+(The sex is ever to a soldier kind).
+Now wasting years my former strength confound,
+And added woes have bow’d me to the ground;
+Yet by the stubble you may guess the grain,
+And mark the ruins of no vulgar man.
+Me, Pallas gave to lead the martial storm,
+And the fair ranks of battle to deform;
+Me, Mars inspired to turn the foe to flight,
+And tempt the secret ambush of the night.
+Let ghastly Death in all his forms appear,
+I saw him not, it was not mine to fear.
+Before the rest I raised my ready steel,
+The first I met, he yielded, or he fell.
+But works of peace my soul disdain’d to bear,
+The rural labour, or domestic care.
+To raise the mast, the missile dart to wing,
+And send swift arrows from the bounding string,
+Were arts the gods made grateful to my mind;
+Those gods, who turn (to various ends design’d)
+The various thoughts and talents of mankind.
+Before the Grecians touch’d the Trojan plain,
+Nine times commander or by land or main,
+In foreign fields I spread my glory far,
+Great in the praise, rich in the spoils of war;
+Thence charged with riches, as increased in fame,
+To Crete return’d, an honourable name.
+But when great Jove that direful war decreed,
+Which roused all Greece, and made the mighty bleed;
+Our states myself and Idomen employ
+To lead their fleets, and carry death to Troy.
+Nine years we warr’d; the tenth saw Ilion fall;
+Homeward we sail’d, but heaven dispersed us all.
+One only month my wife enjoy’d my stay;
+So will’d the god who gives and takes away.
+Nine ships I mann’d, equipp’d with ready stores,
+Intent to voyage to the Ægyptian shores;
+In feast and sacrifice my chosen train
+Six days consum’d; the seventh we plough’d the main.
+Crete’s ample fields diminish to our eye;
+Before the Boreal blast the vessels fly;
+Safe through the level seas we sweep our way;
+The steersman governs, and the ships obey.
+The fifth fair morn we stem the Ægyptian tide,
+And tilting o’er the bay the vessels ride:
+To anchor there my fellows I command,
+And spies commission to explore the land.
+But, sway’d by lust of gain, and headlong will,
+The coasts they ravage, and the natives kill.
+The spreading clamour to their city flies,
+And horse and foot in mingled tumult rise.
+The reddening dawn reveals the circling fields,
+Horrid with bristly spears, and glancing shields.
+Jove thunder’d on their side. Our guilty head
+We turn’d to flight; the gathering vengeance spread
+On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lie dead.
+I then explored my thought, what course to prove
+(And sure the thought was dictated by Jove):
+Oh, had he left me to that happier doom,
+And saved a life of miseries to come!
+The radiant helmet from my brows unlaced,
+And low on earth my shield and javelin cast,
+I meet the monarch with a suppliant’s face,
+Approach his chariot, and his knees embrace,
+He heard, he saved, he placed me at his side;
+My state he pitied, and my tears he dried,
+Restrain’d the rage the vengeful foe express’d,
+And turn’d the deadly weapons from my breast.
+Pious! to guard the hospitable rite,
+And fearing Jove, whom mercy’s works delight.
+
+“In Ægypt thus with peace and plenty bless’d,
+I lived (and happy still have lived) a guest.
+On seven bright years successive blessings wait;
+The next changed all the colour of my fate.
+A false Phoenician, of insiduous mind,
+Versed in vile arts, and foe to humankind,
+With semblance fair invites me to his home;
+I seized the proffer (ever fond to roam):
+Domestic in his faithless roof I stay’d,
+Till the swift sun his annual circle made.
+To Libya then he mediates the way;
+With guileful art a stranger to betray,
+And sell to bondage in a foreign land:
+Much doubting, yet compell’d I quit the strand,
+Through the mid seas the nimble pinnace sails,
+Aloof from Crete, before the northern gales:
+But when remote her chalky cliffs we lost,
+And far from ken of any other coast,
+When all was wild expanse of sea and air,
+Then doom’d high Jove due vengeance to prepare.
+He hung a night of horrors o’er their head
+(The shaded ocean blacken’d as it spread):
+He launch’d the fiery bolt: from pole to pole
+Broad burst the lightnings, deep the thunders roll;
+In giddy rounds the whirling ship is toss’d,
+And all in clouds of smothering sulphur lost.
+As from a hanging rock’s tremendous height,
+The sable crows with intercepted flight
+Drop endlong; scarr’d, and black with sulphurous hue,
+So from the deck are hurl’d the ghastly crew.
+Such end the wicked found! but Jove’s intent
+Was yet to save the oppress’d and innocent.
+Placed on the mast (the last resource of life)
+With winds and waves I held unequal strife:
+For nine long days the billows tilting o’er,
+The tenth soft wafts me to Thesprotia’s shore.
+The monarch’s son a shipwreck’d wretch relieved,
+The sire with hospitable rites received,
+And in his palace like a brother placed,
+With gifts of price and gorgeous garments graced
+While here I sojourn’d, oft I heard the fame
+How late Ulysses to the country came.
+How loved, how honour’d in this court he stay’d,
+And here his whole collected treasure laid;
+I saw myself the vast unnumber’d store
+Of steel elaborate, and refulgent ore,
+And brass high heap’d amidst the regal dome;
+Immense supplies for ages yet to come!
+Meantime he voyaged to explore the will
+Of Jove, on high Dodona’s holy hill,
+What means might best his safe return avail,
+To come in pomp, or bear a secret sail?
+Full oft has Phidon, whilst he pour’d the wine,
+Attesting solemn all the powers divine,
+That soon Ulysses would return, declared
+The sailors waiting, and the ships prepared.
+But first the king dismiss’d me from his shores,
+For fair Dulichium crown’d with fruitful stores;
+To good Acastus’ friendly care consign’d:
+But other counsels pleased the sailors’ mind:
+New frauds were plotted by the faithless train,
+And misery demands me once again.
+Soon as remote from shore they plough the wave,
+With ready hands they rush to seize their slave;
+Then with these tatter’d rags they wrapp’d me round
+(Stripp’d of my own), and to the vessel bound.
+At eve, at Ithaca’s delightful land
+The ship arriv’d: forth issuing on the sand,
+They sought repast; while to the unhappy kind,
+The pitying gods themselves my chains unbind.
+Soft I descended, to the sea applied
+My naked breast, and shot along the tide.
+Soon pass’d beyond their sight, I left the flood,
+And took the spreading shelter of the wood.
+Their prize escaped the faithless pirates mourn’d;
+But deem’d inquiry vain, and to their ships return’d.
+Screen’d by protecting gods from hostile eyes,
+They led me to a good man and a wise,
+To live beneath thy hospitable care,
+And wait the woes Heaven dooms me yet to bear.”
+
+“Unhappy guest! whose sorrows touch my mind!
+(Thus good Eumaeus with a sigh rejoin’d,)
+For real sufferings since I grieve sincere,
+Check not with fallacies the springing tear:
+Nor turn the passion into groundless joy
+For him whom Heaven has destined to destroy.
+Oh! had he perish’d on some well-fought day,
+Or in his friend’s embraces died away!
+That grateful Greece with streaming eyes might raise
+Historic marbles to record his praise;
+His praise, eternal on the faithful stone,
+Had with transmissive honours graced his son.
+Now, snatch’d by harpies to the dreary coast,
+Sunk is the hero, and his glory lost!
+While pensive in this solitary den,
+Far from gay cities and the ways of men,
+I linger life; nor to the court repair,
+But when my constant queen commands my care;
+Or when, to taste her hospitable board,
+Some guest arrives, with rumours of her lord;
+And these indulge their want, and those their woe,
+And here the tears and there the goblets flow.
+By many such have I been warn’d; but chief
+By one Aetolian robb’d of all belief,
+Whose hap it was to this our roof to roam,
+For murder banish’d from his native home.
+He swore, Ulysses on the coast of Crete
+Stay’d but a season to refit his fleet;
+A few revolving months should waft him o’er,
+Fraught with bold warriors, and a boundless store
+O thou! whom age has taught to understand,
+And Heaven has guided with a favouring hand!
+On god or mortal to obtrude a lie
+Forbear, and dread to flatter as to die.
+Nor for such ends my house and heart are free,
+But dear respect to Jove, and charity.”
+
+“And why, O swain of unbelieving mind!
+(Thus quick replied the wisest of mankind)
+Doubt you my oath? yet more my faith to try,
+A solemn compact let us ratify,
+And witness every power that rules the sky!
+If here Ulysses from his labours rest,
+Be then my prize a tunic and a vest;
+And where my hopes invite me, straight transport
+In safety to Dulichium’s friendly court.
+But if he greets not thy desiring eye,
+Hurl me from yon dread precipice on high:
+The due reward of fraud and perjury.”
+
+“Doubtless, O guest! great laud and praise were mine
+(Replied the swain, for spotless faith divine),
+If after social rites and gifts bestow’d,
+I stain’d my hospitable hearth with blood.
+How would the gods my righteous toils succeed,
+And bless the hand that made a stranger bleed?
+No more—the approaching hours of silent night
+First claim refection, then to rest invite;
+Beneath our humble cottage let us haste,
+And here, unenvied, rural dainties taste.”
+
+Thus communed these; while to their lowly dome
+The full-fed swine return’d with evening home;
+Compell’d, reluctant, to their several sties,
+With din obstreperous, and ungrateful cries.
+Then to the slaves: “Now from the herd the best
+Select in honour of our foreign guest:
+With him let us the genial banquet share,
+For great and many are the griefs we bear;
+While those who from our labours heap their board
+Blaspheme their feeder, and forget their lord.”
+
+Thus speaking, with despatchful hand he took
+A weighty axe, and cleft the solid oak;
+This on the earth he piled; a boar full fed,
+Of five years’ age, before the pile was led:
+The swain, whom acts of piety delight,
+Observant of the gods, begins the rite;
+First shears the forehead of the bristly boar,
+And suppliant stands, invoking every power
+To speed Ulysses to his native shore.
+A knotty stake then aiming at his head,
+Down dropped he groaning, and the spirit fled.
+The scorching flames climb round on every side;
+Then the singed members they with skill divide;
+On these, in rolls of fat involved with art,
+The choicest morsels lay from every part.
+Some in the flames bestrew’d with flour they threw;
+Some cut in fragments from the forks they drew:
+These while on several tables they dispose.
+A priest himself the blameless rustic rose;
+Expert the destined victim to dispart
+In seven just portions, pure of hand and heart.
+One sacred to the nymphs apart they lay:
+Another to the winged son of May;
+The rural tribe in common share the rest,
+The king the chine, the honour of the feast,
+Who sate delighted at his servant’s board;
+The faithful servant joy’d his unknown lord.
+“Oh be thou dear (Ulysses cried) to Jove,
+As well thou claim’st a grateful stranger’s love!”
+
+“Be then thy thanks (the bounteous swain replied)
+Enjoyment of the good the gods provide.
+From God’s own hand descend our joys and woes;
+These he decrees, and he but suffers those:
+All power is his, and whatsoe’er he wills,
+The will itself, omnipotent, fulfils.”
+This said, the first-fruits to the gods he gave;
+Then pour’d of offer’d wine the sable wave:
+In great Ulysses’ hand he placed the bowl,
+He sate, and sweet refection cheer’d his soul.
+The bread from canisters Mesaulius gave
+(Eumaeus’ proper treasure bought this slave,
+And led from Taphos, to attend his board,
+A servant added to his absent lord);
+His task it was the wheaten loaves to lay,
+And from the banquet take the bowls away.
+And now the rage of hunger was repress’d,
+And each betakes him to his couch to rest.
+
+Now came the night, and darkness cover’d o’er
+The face of things; the winds began to roar;
+The driving storm the watery west-wind pours,
+And Jove descends in deluges of showers.
+Studious of rest and warmth, Ulysses lies,
+Foreseeing from the first the storm would rise
+In mere necessity of coat and cloak,
+With artful preface to his host he spoke:
+“Hear me, my friends! who this good banquet grace;
+’Tis sweet to play the fool in time and place,
+And wine can of their wits the wise beguile,
+Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile,
+The grave in merry measures frisk about,
+And many a long-repented word bring out.
+Since to be talkative I now commence,
+Let wit cast off the sullen yoke of sense.
+Once I was strong (would Heaven restore those days!)
+And with my betters claim’d a share of praise.
+Ulysses, Menelaus, led forth a band,
+And join’d me with them (’twas their own command);
+A deathful ambush for the foe to lay,
+Beneath Troy walls by night we took our way:
+There, clad in arms, along the marshes spread,
+We made the osier-fringed bank our bed.
+Full soon the inclemency of heaven I feel,
+Nor had these shoulders covering, but of steel.
+Sharp blew the north; snow whitening all the fields
+Froze with the blast, and gathering glazed our shields.
+There all but I, well fenced with cloak and vest,
+Lay cover’d by their ample shields at rest.
+Fool that I was! I left behind my own,
+The skill of weather and of winds unknown,
+And trusted to my coat and shield alone!
+When now was wasted more than half the night,
+And the stars faded at approaching light,
+Sudden I jogg’d Ulysses, who was laid
+Fast by my side, and shivering thus I said:
+
+“‘Here longer in this field I cannot lie;
+The winter pinches, and with cold I die,
+And die ashamed (O wisest of mankind),
+The only fool who left his cloak behind.’
+
+“He thought and answer’d: hardly waking yet,
+Sprung in his mind a momentary wit
+(That wit, which or in council or in fight,
+Still met the emergence, and determined right).
+‘Hush thee (he cried, soft whispering in my ear),
+Speak not a word, lest any Greek may hear’—
+And then (supporting on his arm his head),
+‘Hear me, companions! (thus aloud he said:)
+Methinks too distant from the fleet we lie:
+E’en now a vision stood before my eye,
+And sure the warning vision was from high:
+Let from among us some swift courier rise,
+Haste to the general, and demand supplies.’
+
+“Up started Thoas straight, Andraemon’s son,
+Nimbly he rose, and cast his garment down!
+Instant, the racer vanish’d off the ground;
+That instant in his cloak I wrapp’d me round:
+And safe I slept, till brightly-dawning shone
+The morn conspicuous on her golden throne.
+
+“Oh were my strength as then, as then my age!
+Some friend would fence me from the winter’s rage.
+Yet, tatter’d as I look, I challenged then
+The honours and the offices of men:
+Some master, or some servant would allow
+A cloak and vest—but I am nothing now!”
+
+“Well hast thou spoke (rejoin’d the attentive swain):
+Thy lips let fall no idle word or vain!
+Nor garment shalt thou want, nor aught beside,
+Meet for the wandering suppliant to provide.
+But in the morning take thy clothes again,
+For here one vest suffices every swain:
+No change of garments to our hinds is known;
+But when return’d, the good Ulysses’ son
+With better hand shall grace with fit attires
+His guest, and send thee where thy soul desires.”
+
+The honest herdsman rose, as this he said,
+And drew before the hearth the stranger’s bed;
+The fleecy spoils of sheep, a goat’s rough hide
+He spreads; and adds a mantle thick and wide;
+With store to heap above him, and below,
+And guard each quarter as the tempests blow.
+There lay the king, and all the rest supine;
+All, but the careful master of the swine:
+Forth hasted he to tend his bristly care;
+Well arm’d, and fenced against nocturnal air:
+His weighty falchion o’er his shoulder tied:
+His shaggy cloak a mountain goat supplied:
+With his broad spear the dread of dogs and men,
+He seeks his lodging in the rocky den.
+There to the tusky herd he bends his way,
+Where, screen’d from Boreas, high o’erarch’d they lay.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XV.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE RETURN OF TELEMACHUS.
+
+
+The goddess Minerva commands Telemachus in a vision to return to
+Ithaca. Pisistratus and he take leave of Menelaus, and arrive at Pylos,
+where they part: and Telemachus sets sail, after having received on
+board Theoclymenus the soothsayer. The scene then changes to the
+cottage of Eumaeus, who entertains Ulysses with a recital of his
+adventures. In the meantime Telemachus arrives on the coast, and
+sending the vessel to the town, proceeds by himself to the lodge of
+Eumaeus.
+
+
+Now had Minerva reach’d those ample plains,
+Famed for the dance, where Menelaus reigns:
+Anxious she flies to great Ulysses’ heir,
+His instant voyage challenged all her care.
+Beneath the royal portico display’d,
+With Nestor’s son Telemachus was laid:
+In sleep profound the son of Nestor lies;
+Not thine, Ulysses! Care unseal’d his eyes:
+Restless he grieved, with various fears oppress’d,
+And all thy fortunes roll’d within his breast.
+When, “O Telemachus! (the goddess said)
+Too long in vain, too widely hast thou stray’d,
+Thus leaving careless thy paternal right
+The robbers’ prize, the prey to lawless might.
+On fond pursuits neglectful while you roam,
+E’en now the hand of rapine sacks the dome.
+Hence to Atrides; and his leave implore
+To launch thy vessel for thy natal shore;
+Fly, whilst thy mother virtuous yet withstands
+Her kindred’s wishes, and her sire’s commands;
+Through both, Eurymachus pursues the dame,
+And with the noblest gifts asserts his claim.
+Hence, therefore, while thy stores thy own remain;
+Thou know’st the practice of the female train,
+Lost in the children of the present spouse,
+They slight the pledges of their former vows;
+Their love is always with the lover past;
+Still the succeeding flame expels the last.
+Let o’er thy house some chosen maid preside,
+Till Heaven decrees to bless thee in a bride.
+But now thy more attentive ears incline,
+Observe the warnings of a power divine;
+For thee their snares the suitor lords shall lay
+In Samos’ sands, or straits of Ithaca;
+To seize thy life shall lurk the murderous band,
+Ere yet thy footsteps press thy native land.
+No!—sooner far their riot and their lust
+All-covering earth shall bury deep in dust!
+Then distant from the scatter’d islands steer,
+Nor let the night retard thy full career;
+Thy heavenly guardian shall instruct the gales
+To smooth thy passage and supply thy sails:
+And when at Ithaca thy labour ends,
+Send to the town the vessel with thy friends;
+But seek thou first the master of the swine
+(For still to thee his loyal thoughts incline);
+There pass the night: while he his course pursues
+To bring Penelope the wish’d-for news,
+That thou, safe sailing from the Pylian strand,
+Art come to bless her in thy native land.”
+Thus spoke the goddess, and resumed her flight
+To the pure regions of eternal light,
+Meanwhile Pisistratus he gently shakes,
+And with these words the slumbering youth awakes:
+
+“Rise, son of Nestor; for the road prepare,
+And join the harness’d coursers to the car.”
+
+“What cause (he cried) can justify our flight
+To tempt the dangers of forbidding night?
+Here wait we rather, till approaching day
+Shall prompt our speed, and point the ready way.
+Nor think of flight before the Spartan king
+Shall bid farewell, and bounteous presents bring;
+Gifts, which to distant ages safely stored,
+The sacred act of friendship shall record.”
+
+Thus he. But when the dawn bestreak’d the east,
+The king from Helen rose, and sought his guest.
+As soon as his approach the hero knew,
+The splendid mantle round him first he threw,
+Then o’er his ample shoulders whirl’d the cloak,
+Respectful met the monarch, and bespoke:
+
+“Hail, great Atrides, favour’d of high Jove!
+Let not thy friends in vain for licence move.
+Swift let us measure back the watery way,
+Nor check our speed, impatient of delay.”
+
+“If with desire so strong thy bosom glows,
+Ill (said the king) should I thy wish oppose;
+For oft in others freely I reprove
+The ill-timed efforts of officious love;
+Who love too much, hate in the like extreme,
+And both the golden mean alike condemn.
+Alike he thwarts the hospitable end,
+Who drives the free, or stays the hasty friend:
+True friendship’s laws are by this rule express’d,
+Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.
+Yet, stay, my friends, and in your chariot take
+The noblest presents that our love can make;
+Meantime commit we to our women’s care
+Some choice domestic viands to prepare;
+The traveller, rising from the banquet gay,
+Eludes the labours of the tedious way,
+Then if a wider course shall rather please,
+Through spacious Argos and the realms of Greece,
+Atrides in his chariot shall attend;
+Himself thy convoy to each royal friend.
+No prince will let Ulysses’ heir remove
+Without some pledge, some monument of love:
+These will the caldron, these the tripod give;
+From those the well-pair’d mules we shall receive,
+Or bowl emboss’d whose golden figures live.”
+
+To whom the youth, for prudence famed, replied:
+“O monarch, care of heaven! thy people’s pride!
+No friend in Ithaca my place supplies,
+No powerful hands are there, no watchful eyes:
+My stores exposed and fenceless house demand
+The speediest succour from my guardian hand;
+Lest, in a search too anxious and too vain,
+Of one lost joy, I lose what yet remain.”
+
+His purpose when the generous warrior heard,
+He charged the household cates to be prepared.
+Now with the dawn, from his adjoining home,
+Was Boethoedes Eteoneus come;
+Swift at the word he forms the rising blaze,
+And o’er the coals the smoking fragments lays.
+Meantime the king, his son, and Helen went
+Where the rich wardrobe breathed a costly scent;
+The king selected from the glittering rows
+A bowl; the prince a silver beaker chose.
+The beauteous queen revolved with careful eyes
+Her various textures of unnumber’d dyes,
+And chose the largest; with no vulgar art
+Her own fair hands embroider’d every part;
+Beneath the rest it lay divinely bright,
+Like radiant Hesper o’er the gems of night,
+Then with each gift they hasten’d to their guest,
+And thus the king Ulysses’ heir address’d:
+“Since fix’d are thy resolves, may thundering Jove
+With happiest omens thy desires approve!
+This silver bowl, whose costly margins shine
+Enchased with gold, this valued gift be thine;
+To me this present, of Vulcanian frame,
+From Sidon’s hospitable monarch came;
+To thee we now consign the precious load,
+The pride of kings, and labour of a god.”
+
+Then gave the cup, while Megapenthe brought
+The silver vase with living sculpture wrought.
+The beauteous queen, advancing next, display’d
+The shining veil, and thus endearing said:
+
+“Accept, dear youth, this monument of love,
+Long since, in better days, by Helen wove:
+Safe in thy mother’s care the vesture lay,
+To deck thy bride and grace thy nuptial day.
+Meantime may’st thou with happiest speed regain
+Thy stately palace, and thy wide domain.”
+
+She said, and gave the veil; with grateful look
+The prince the variegated present took.
+And now, when through the royal dome they pass’d,
+High on a throne the king each stranger placed.
+A golden ewer the attendant damsel brings,
+Replete with water from the crystal springs;
+With copious streams the shining vase supplies
+A silver layer of capacious size.
+They wash. The tables in fair order spread,
+The glittering canisters are crown’d with bread;
+Viands of various kinds allure the taste,
+Of choicest sort and savour; rich repast!
+Whilst Eteoneus portions out the shares
+Atrides’ son the purple draught prepares,
+And now (each sated with the genial feast,
+And the short rage of thirst and hunger ceased)
+Ulysses’ son, with his illustrious friend,
+The horses join, the polish’d car ascend,
+Along the court the fiery steeds rebound,
+And the wide portal echoes to the sound.
+The king precedes; a bowl with fragrant wine
+(Libation destined to the powers divine)
+His right hand held: before the steed he stands,
+Then, mix’d with prayers, he utters these commands:
+
+“Farewell, and prosper, youths! let Nestor know
+What grateful thoughts still in this bosom glow,
+For all the proofs of his paternal care,
+Through the long dangers of the ten years’ war.”
+“Ah! doubt not our report (the prince rejoin’d)
+Of all the virtues of thy generous mind.
+And oh! return’d might we Ulysses meet!
+To him thy presents show, thy words repeat:
+How will each speech his grateful wonder raise!
+How will each gift indulge us in thy praise!”
+
+Scarce ended thus the prince, when on the right
+Advanced the bird of Jove: auspicious sight!
+A milk-white fowl his clinching talons bore,
+With care domestic pampered at the floor.
+Peasants in vain with threatening cries pursue,
+In solemn speed the bird majestic flew
+Full dexter to the car; the prosperous sight
+Fill’d every breast with wonder and delight.
+
+But Nestor’s son the cheerful silence broke,
+And in these words the Spartan chief bespoke:
+“Say if to us the gods these omens send,
+Or fates peculiar to thyself portend?”
+
+Whilst yet the monarch paused, with doubts oppress’d
+The beauteous queen relieved his labouring breast:
+“Hear me (she cried), to whom the gods have given
+To read this sign, and mystic sense of heaven,
+As thus the plumy sovereign of the air
+Left on the mountain’s brow his callow care,
+And wander’d through the wide ethereal way
+To pour his wrath on yon luxurious prey;
+So shall thy godlike father, toss’d in vain
+Through all the dangers of the boundless main,
+Arrive (or if perchance already come)
+From slaughter’d gluttons to release the dome.”
+
+“Oh! if this promised bliss by thundering Jove
+(The prince replied) stand fix’d in fate above;
+To thee, as to some god, I’ll temples raise.
+And crown thy altars with the costly blaze.”
+
+He said; and bending o’er his chariot, flung
+Athwart the fiery steeds the smarting thong;
+The bounding shafts upon the harness play,
+Till night descending intercepts the way.
+To Diocles at Pherae they repair,
+Whose boasted sire was sacred Alpheus’ heir;
+With him all night the youthful stranger stay’d,
+Nor found the hospitable rites unpaid,
+But soon as morning from her orient bed
+Had tinged the mountains with her earliest red,
+They join’d the steeds, and on the chariot sprung,
+The brazen portals in their passage rung.
+
+To Pylos soon they came; when thus begun
+To Nestor’s heir Ulysses’ godlike son:
+
+“Let not Pisistratus in vain be press’d,
+Nor unconsenting hear his friend’s request;
+His friend by long hereditary claim,
+In toils his equal, and in years the same.
+No farther from our vessel, I implore,
+The coursers drive; but lash them to the shore.
+Too long thy father would his friend detain;
+I dread his proffer’d kindness urged in vain.”
+
+The hero paused, and ponder’d this request,
+While love and duty warr’d within his breast.
+At length resolved, he turn’d his ready hand,
+And lash’d his panting coursers to the strand.
+There, while within the poop with care he stored
+The regal presents of the Spartan lord,
+“With speed begone (said he); call every mate,
+Ere yet to Nestor I the tale relate:
+’Tis true, the fervour of his generous heart
+Brooks no repulse, nor couldst thou soon depart:
+Himself will seek thee here, nor wilt thou find,
+In words alone, the Pylian monarch kind.
+But when, arrived, he thy return shall know
+How will his breast with honest fury glow!”
+This said, the sounding strokes his horses fire,
+And soon he reached the palace of his sire.
+
+“Now (cried Telemachus) with speedy care
+Hoist every sail, and every oar prepare.”
+Swift as the word his willing mates obey,
+And seize their seats, impatient for the sea.
+
+Meantime the prince with sacrifice adores
+Minerva, and her guardian aid implores;
+When lo! a wretch ran breathless to the shore,
+New from his crime; and reeking yet with gore.
+A seer he was, from great Melampus sprung,
+Melampus, who in Pylos flourish’d long,
+Till, urged by wrongs, a foreign realm he chose,
+Far from the hateful cause of all his woes.
+Neleus his treasures one long year detains,
+As long he groan’d in Philacus’s chains:
+Meantime, what anguish and what rage combined
+For lovely Pero rack’d his labouring mind!
+Yet ’scaped he death; and vengeful of his wrong
+To Pylos drove the lowing herds along:
+Then (Neleus vanquish’d, and consign’d the fair
+To Bias’ arms) he so sought a foreign air;
+Argos the rich for his retreat he chose,
+There form’d his empire; there his palace rose.
+From him Antiphates and Mantius came:
+The first begot Oicleus great in fame,
+And he Amphiaraus, immortal name!
+The people’s saviour, and divinely wise,
+Beloved by Jove, and him who gilds the skies;
+Yet short his date of life! by female pride he dies.
+From Mantius Clitus, whom Aurora’s love
+Snatch’d for his beauty to the thrones above;
+And Polyphides, on whom Phœbus shone
+With fullest rays, Amphiaraus now gone;
+In Hyperesia’s groves he made abode,
+And taught mankind the counsels of the god.
+From him sprung Theoclymenus, who found
+(The sacred wine yet foaming on the ground)
+Telemachus: whom, as to Heaven he press’d
+His ardent vows, the stranger thus address’d:
+
+“O thou! that dost thy happy course prepare
+With pure libations and with solemn prayer:
+By that dread power to whom thy vows are paid;
+By all the lives of these; thy own dear head,
+Declare sincerely to no foe’s demand
+Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land.”
+
+“Prepare, then (said Telemachus), to know
+A tale from falsehood free, not free from woe.
+From Ithaca, of royal birth I came,
+And great Ulysses (ever honour’d name!)
+Once was my sire, though now, for ever lost,
+In Stygian gloom he glides a pensive ghost!
+Whose fate inquiring through the world we rove;
+The last, the wretched proof of filial love.”
+
+The stranger then: “Nor shall I aught conceal,
+But the dire secret of my fate reveal.
+Of my own tribe an Argive wretch I slew;
+Whose powerful friends the luckless deed pursue
+With unrelenting rage, and force from home
+The blood-stain’d exile, ever doom’d to roam.
+But bear, oh bear me o’er yon azure flood;
+Receive the suppliant! spare my destined blood!”
+
+“Stranger (replied the prince) securely rest
+Affianced in our faith; henceforth our guest.”
+Thus affable, Ulysses’ godlike heir
+Takes from the stranger’s hand the glittering spear:
+He climbs the ship, ascends the stern with haste
+And by his side the guest accepted placed.
+The chief his order gives: the obedient band,
+With due observance wait the chief’s command:
+With speed the mast they rear, with speed unbind
+The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind.
+Minerva calls; the ready gales obey
+With rapid speed to whirl them o’er the sea.
+Crunus they pass’d, next Chalcis roll’d away,
+With thickening darkness closed the doubtful day;
+The silver Phaea’s glittering rills they lost,
+And skimm’d along by Elis’ sacred coast.
+Then cautious through the rocky reaches wind,
+And turning sudden, shun the death design’d.
+
+Meantime, the king, Eumaeus, and the rest,
+Sate in the cottage, at their rural feast:
+The banquet pass’d, and satiate every man,
+To try his host, Ulysses thus began:
+
+“Yet one night more, my friends, indulge your guest;
+The last I purpose in your walls to rest:
+To-morrow for myself I must provide,
+And only ask your counsel, and a guide;
+Patient to roam the street, by hunger led,
+And bless the friendly hand that gives me bread.
+There in Ulysses’ roof I may relate
+Ulysses’ wanderings to his royal mate;
+Or, mingling with the suitors’ haughty train,
+Not undeserving some support obtain.
+Hermes to me his various gifts imparts.
+Patron of industry and manual arts:
+Few can with me in dexterous works contend,
+The pyre to build, the stubborn oak to rend;
+To turn the tasteful viand o’er the flame;
+Or foam the goblet with a purple stream.
+Such are the tasks of men of mean estate,
+Whom fortune dooms to serve the rich and great.”
+
+“Alas! (Eumaeus with a sigh rejoin’d).
+How sprung a thought so monstrous in thy mind?
+If on that godless race thou would’st attend,
+Fate owes thee sure a miserable end!
+Their wrongs and blasphemies ascend the sky,
+And pull descending vengeance from on high.
+Not such, my friend, the servants of their feast:
+A blooming train in rich embroidery dress’d,
+With earth’s whole tribute the bright table bends,
+And smiling round celestial youth attends.
+Stay, then: no eye askance beholds thee here;
+Sweet is thy converse to each social ear;
+Well pleased, and pleasing, in our cottage rest,
+Till good Telemachus accepts his guest
+With genial gifts, and change of fair attires,
+And safe conveys thee where thy soul desires.”
+
+To him the man of woes; “O gracious Jove!
+Reward this stranger’s hospitable love!
+Who knows the son of sorrow to relieve,
+Cheers the sad heart, nor lets affliction grieve.
+Of all the ills unhappy mortals know,
+A life of wanderings is the greatest woe;
+On all their weary ways wait care and pain,
+And pine and penury, a meagre train.
+To such a man since harbour you afford,
+Relate the farther fortunes of your lord;
+What cares his mother’s tender breast engage,
+And sire forsaken on the verge of age;
+Beneath the sun prolong they yet their breath,
+Or range the house of darkness and of death?”
+
+To whom the swain: “Attend what you enquire;
+Laertes lives, the miserable sire,
+Lives, but implores of every power to lay
+The burden down, and wishes for the day.
+Torn from his offspring in the eve of life,
+Torn from the embraces of his tender wife,
+Sole, and all comfortless, he wastes away
+Old age, untimely posting ere his day.
+She too, sad mother! for Ulysses lost
+Pined out her bloom, and vanish’d to a ghost;
+(So dire a fate, ye righteous gods! avert
+From every friendly, every feeling heart!)
+While yet she was, though clouded o’er with grief.
+Her pleasing converse minister’d relief:
+With Climene, her youngest daughter, bred,
+One roof contain’d us, and one table fed.
+But when the softly-stealing pace of time
+Crept on from childhood into youthful prime,
+To Samos’ isle she sent the wedded fair;
+Me to the fields; to tend the rural care;
+Array’d in garments her own hands had wove,
+Nor less the darling object of her love.
+Her hapless death my brighter days o’ercast,
+Yet Providence deserts me not at last;
+My present labours food and drink procure,
+And more, the pleasure to relieve the poor.
+Small is the comfort from the queen to hear
+Unwelcome news, or vex the royal ear;
+Blank and discountenanced the servants stand,
+Nor dare to question where the proud command;
+No profit springs beneath usurping powers;
+Want feeds not there where luxury devours,
+Nor harbours charity where riot reigns:
+Proud are the lords, and wretched are the swains.”
+
+The suffering chief at this began to melt;
+And, “O Eumaeus! thou (he cries) hast felt
+The spite of fortune too! her cruel hand
+Snatch’d thee an infant from thy native land!
+Snatch’d from thy parents’ arms, thy parents’ eyes,
+To early wants! a man of miseries!
+The whole sad story, from its first, declare:
+Sunk the fair city by the rage of war,
+Where once thy parents dwelt? or did they keep,
+In humbler life, the lowing herds and sheep?
+So left perhaps to tend the fleecy train,
+Rude pirates seized, and shipp’d thee o’er the main?
+Doom’d a fair prize to grace some prince’s board,
+The worthy purchase of a foreign lord.”
+
+“If then my fortunes can delight my friend,
+A story fruitful of events attend:
+Another’s sorrow may thy ears enjoy,
+And wine the lengthen’d intervals employ.
+Long nights the now declining year bestows;
+A part we consecrate to soft repose,
+A part in pleasing talk we entertain;
+For too much rest itself becomes a pain.
+Let those, whom sleep invites, the call obey,
+Their cares resuming with the dawning day:
+Here let us feast, and to the feast be join’d
+Discourse, the sweeter banquet of the mind;
+Review the series of our lives, and taste
+The melancholy joy of evils pass’d:
+For he who much has suffer’d, much will know,
+And pleased remembrance builds delight on woe.
+
+“Above Ortygia lies an isle of fame,
+Far hence remote, and Syria is the name
+(There curious eyes inscribed with wonder trace
+The sun’s diurnal, and his annual race);
+Not large, but fruitful; stored with grass to keep
+The bellowing oxen and the bleating sheep;
+Her sloping hills the mantling vines adorn,
+And her rich valleys wave with golden corn.
+No want, no famine, the glad natives know,
+Nor sink by sickness to the shades below;
+But when a length of years unnerves the strong,
+Apollo comes, and Cynthia comes along.
+They bend the silver bow with tender skill,
+And, void of pain, the silent arrows kill.
+Two equal tribes this fertile land divide,
+Where two fair cities rise with equal pride.
+But both in constant peace one prince obey,
+And Ctesius there, my father, holds the sway.
+Freighted, it seems, with toys of every sort,
+A ship of Sidon anchor’d in our port;
+What time it chanced the palace entertain’d,
+Skill’d in rich works, a woman of their land:
+This nymph, where anchor’d the Phoenician train,
+To wash her robes descending to the main,
+A smooth tongued sailor won her to his mind
+(For love deceives the best of womankind).
+A sudden trust from sudden liking grew;
+She told her name, her race, and all she knew,
+‘I too (she cried) from glorious Sidon came,
+My father Arybas, of wealthy fame:
+But, snatch’d by pirates from my native place,
+The Taphians sold me to this man’s embrace.’
+
+“‘Haste then (the false designing youth replied),
+Haste to thy country; love shall be thy guide;
+Haste to thy father’s house, thy father’s breast,
+For still he lives, and lives with riches blest.’
+
+“‘Swear first (she cried), ye sailors! to restore
+A wretch in safety to her native shore.’
+Swift as she ask’d, the ready sailors swore.
+She then proceeds: ‘Now let our compact made
+Be nor by signal nor by word betray’d,
+Nor near me any of your crew descried,
+By road frequented, or by fountain side.
+Be silence still our guard. The monarch’s spies
+(For watchful age is ready to surmise)
+Are still at hand; and this, revealed, must be
+Death to yourselves, eternal chains to me.
+Your vessel loaded, and your traffic pass’d,
+Despatch a wary messenger with haste;
+Then gold and costly treasures will I bring,
+And more, the infant offspring of the king.
+Him, child-like wandering forth, I’ll lead away
+(A noble prize!) and to your ship convey.’
+
+“Thus spoke the dame, and homeward took the road.
+A year they traffic, and their vessel load.
+Their stores complete, and ready now to weigh,
+A spy was sent their summons to convey:
+An artist to my father’s palace came,
+With gold and amber chains, elaborate frame:
+Each female eye the glittering links employ;
+They turn, review, and cheapen every toy.
+He took the occasion, as they stood intent,
+Gave her the sign, and to his vessel went.
+She straight pursued, and seized my willing arm;
+I follow’d, smiling, innocent of harm.
+Three golden goblets in the porch she found
+(The guests not enter’d, but the table crown’d);
+Hid in her fraudful bosom these she bore:
+Now set the sun, and darken’d all the shore.
+Arriving then, where tilting on the tides
+Prepared to launch the freighted vessel rides,
+Aboard they heave us, mount their decks, and sweep
+With level oar along the glassy deep.
+Six calmy days and six smooth nights we sail,
+And constant Jove supplied the gentle gale.
+The seventh, the fraudful wretch (no cause descried),
+Touch’d by Diana’s vengeful arrow, died.
+Down dropp’d the caitiff-corse, a worthless load,
+Down to the deep; there roll’d, the future food
+Of fierce sea-wolves, and monsters of the flood.
+An helpless infant I remain’d behind;
+Thence borne to Ithaca by wave and wind;
+Sold to Laertes by divine command,
+And now adopted to a foreign land.”
+
+To him the king: “Reciting thus thy cares,
+My secret soul in all thy sorrow shares;
+But one choice blessing (such is Jove’s high will)
+Has sweeten’d all thy bitter draught of ill:
+Torn from thy country to no hapless end,
+The gods have, in a master, given a friend.
+Whatever frugal nature needs is thine
+(For she needs little), daily bread and wine.
+While I, so many wanderings past, and woes,
+Live but on what thy poverty bestows.”
+
+So passed in pleasing dialogue away
+The night; then down to short repose they lay;
+Till radiant rose the messenger of day.
+While in the port of Ithaca, the band
+Of young Telemachus approach’d the land;
+Their sails they loosed, they lash’d the mast aside,
+And cast their anchors, and the cables tied:
+Then on the breezy shore, descending, join
+In grateful banquet o’er the rosy wine.
+When thus the prince: “Now each his course pursue;
+I to the fields, and to the city you.
+Long absent hence, I dedicate this day
+My swains to visit, and the works survey.
+Expect me with the morn, to pay the skies
+Our debt of safe return in feast and sacrifice.”
+
+Then Theoclymenus: “But who shall lend,
+Meantime, protection to thy stranger friend?
+Straight to the queen and palace shall I fly,
+Or yet more distant, to some lord apply?”
+
+The prince return’d: “Renown’d in days of yore
+Has stood our father’s hospitable door;
+No other roof a stranger should receive,
+No other hands than ours the welcome give.
+But in my absence riot fills the place,
+Nor bears the modest queen a stranger’s face;
+From noiseful revel far remote she flies,
+But rarely seen, or seen with weeping eyes.
+No—let Eurymachus receive my guest,
+Of nature courteous, and by far the best;
+He woos the queen with more respectful flame,
+And emulates her former husband’s fame,
+With what success, ’tis Jove’s alone to know,
+And the hoped nuptials turn to joy or woe.”
+
+Thus speaking, on the right up-soar’d in air
+The hawk, Apollo’s swift-wing’d messenger:
+His dreadful pounces tore a trembling dove;
+The clotted feathers, scatter’d from above,
+Between the hero and the vessel pour
+Thick plumage mingled with a sanguine shower.
+
+The observing augur took the prince aside,
+Seized by the hand, and thus prophetic cried:
+“Yon bird, that dexter cuts the aërial road,
+Rose ominous, nor flies without a god:
+No race but thine shall Ithaca obey,
+To thine, for ages, Heaven decrees the sway.”
+
+“Succeed the omens, gods! (the youth rejoin’d:)
+Soon shall my bounties speak a grateful mind,
+And soon each envied happiness attend
+The man who calls Telemachus his friend.”
+Then to Peiraeus: “Thou whom time has proved
+A faithful servant, by thy prince beloved!
+Till we returning shall our guest demand,
+Accept this charge with honour, at our hand.”
+
+To this Peiraeus: “Joyful I obey,
+Well pleased the hospitable rites to pay.
+The presence of thy guest shall best reward
+(If long thy stay) the absence of my lord.”
+
+With that, their anchors he commands to weigh,
+Mount the tall bark, and launch into the sea.
+All with obedient haste forsake the shores,
+And, placed in order, spread their equal oars.
+Then from the deck the prince his sandals takes;
+Poised in his hand the pointed javelin shakes.
+They part; while, lessening from the hero’s view
+Swift to the town the well-row’d galley flew:
+The hero trod the margin of the main,
+And reach’d the mansion of his faithful swain.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XVI.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE DISCOVERY OF ULYSSES TO TELEMACHUS.
+
+
+Telemachus arriving at the lodge of Eumaeus, sends him to carry
+Penelope the news of his return. Minerva appearing to Ulysses, commands
+him to discover himself to his son. The princes, who had lain in ambush
+to intercept Telemachus in his way, their project being defeated,
+return to Ithaca.
+
+
+Soon as the morning blush’d along the plains,
+Ulysses, and the monarch of the swains,
+Awake the sleeping fires, their meals prepare,
+And forth to pasture send the bristly care.
+The prince’s near approach the dogs descry,
+And fawning round his feet confess their joy.
+Their gentle blandishment the king survey’d,
+Heard his resounding step, and instant said:
+
+“Some well-known friend, Eumaeus, bends this way;
+His steps I hear; the dogs familiar play.”
+
+While yet he spoke, the prince advancing drew
+Nigh to the lodge, and now appear’d in view.
+Transported from his seat Eumaeus sprung,
+Dropp’d the full bowl, and round his bosom hung;
+Kissing his cheek, his hand, while from his eye
+The tears rain’d copious in a shower of joy,
+As some fond sire who ten long winters grieves,
+From foreign climes an only son receives
+(Child of his age), with strong paternal joy,
+Forward he springs, and clasps the favourite boy:
+So round the youth his arms Eumaeus spread,
+As if the grave had given him from the dead.
+
+“And is it thou? my ever-dear delight!
+Oh, art thou come to bless my longing sight?
+Never, I never hoped to view this day,
+When o’er the waves you plough’d the desperate way.
+Enter, my child! Beyond my hopes restored,
+Oh give these eyes to feast upon their lord.
+Enter, oh seldom seen! for lawless powers
+Too much detain thee from these sylvan bowers,”
+The prince replied: “Eumaeus, I obey;
+To seek thee, friend, I hither took my way.
+But say, if in the court the queen reside
+Severely chaste, or if commenced a bride?”
+
+Thus he; and thus the monarch of the swains:
+“Severely chaste Penelope remains;
+But, lost to every joy, she wastes the day
+In tedious cares, and weeps the night away.”
+
+He ended, and (receiving as they pass
+The javelin pointed with a star of brass),
+They reach’d the dome; the dome with marble shined.
+His seat Ulysses to the prince resign’d.
+“Not so (exclaims the prince with decent grace)
+For me, this house shall find an humbler place:
+To usurp the honours due to silver hairs
+And reverend strangers modest youth forbears.”
+Instant the swain the spoils of beasts supplies,
+And bids the rural throne with osiers rise.
+There sate the prince: the feast Eumaeus spread,
+And heap’d the shining canisters with bread.
+Thick o’er the board the plenteous viands lay,
+The frugal remnants of the former day.
+Then in a bowl he tempers generous wines,
+Around whose verge a mimic ivy twines.
+And now, the rage of thirst and hunger fled,
+Thus young Ulysses to Eumaeus said:
+
+“Whence, father, from what shore this stranger, say?
+What vessel bore him o’er the watery way?
+To human step our land impervious lies,
+And round the coast circumfluent oceans rise.”
+
+The swain returns: “A tale of sorrows hear:
+In spacious Crete he drew his natal air;
+Long doom’d to wander o’er the land and main,
+For Heaven has wove his thread of life with pain.
+Half breathless ’scaping to the land he flew
+From Thesprot mariners, a murderous crew.
+To thee, my son, the suppliant I resign;
+I gave him my protection, grant him thine.”
+
+“Hard task (he cries) thy virtue gives thy friend,
+Willing to aid, unable to defend.
+Can strangers safely in the court reside,
+’Midst the swell’d insolence of lust and pride?
+E’en I unsafe: the queen in doubt to wed,
+Or pay due honours to the nuptial bed.
+Perhaps she weds regardless of her fame,
+Deaf to the mighty Ulyssean name.
+However, stranger! from our grace receive
+Such honours as befit a prince to give;
+Sandals, a sword and robes, respect to prove,
+And safe to sail with ornaments of love.
+Till then, thy guest amid the rural train,
+Far from the court, from danger far, detain.
+’Tis mine with food the hungry to supply,
+And clothe the naked from the inclement sky.
+Here dwell in safety from the suitors’ wrongs,
+And the rude insults of ungovern’d tongues.
+For should’st thou suffer, powerless to relieve,
+I must behold it, and can only grieve.
+The brave, encompass’d by an hostile train,
+O’erpower’d by numbers, is but brave in vain.”
+
+To whom, while anger in his bosom glows,
+With warmth replies the man of mighty woes:
+“Since audience mild is deign’d, permit my tongue
+At once to pity and resent thy wrong.
+My heart weeps blood to see a soul so brave
+Live to base insolence or power a slave,
+But tell me, dost thou, prince, dost thou behold,
+And hear their midnight revels uncontroll’d?
+Say, do thy subjects in bold faction rise,
+Or priests in fabled oracles advise?
+Or are thy brothers, who should aid thy power,
+Turn’d mean deserters in the needful hour?
+Oh that I were from great Ulysses sprung,
+Or that these wither’d nerves like thine were strung,
+Or, heavens! might he return! (and soon appear
+He shall, I trust; a hero scorns despair:)
+Might he return, I yield my life a prey
+To my worst foe, if that avenging day
+Be not their last: but should I lose my life,
+Oppress’d by numbers in the glorious strife,
+I chose the nobler part, and yield my breath,
+Rather than bear dishonor, worse than death;
+Than see the hand of violence invade
+The reverend stranger and the spotless maid;
+Than see the wealth of kings consumed in waste,
+The drunkard’s revel, and the gluttons’ feast.”
+
+Thus he, with anger flashing from his eye;
+Sincere the youthful hero made reply:
+“Nor leagued in factious arms my subjects rise,
+Nor priests in fabled oracles advise;
+Nor are my brothers, who should aid my power,
+Turn’d mean deserters in the needful hour.
+Ah me! I boast no brother; heaven’s dread King
+Gives from our stock an only branch to spring:
+Alone Laertes reign’d Arcesius’ heir,
+Alone Ulysses drew the vital air,
+And I alone the bed connubial graced,
+An unbless’d offspring of a sire unbless’d!
+Each neighbouring realm, conducive to our woe,
+Sends forth her peers, and every peer a foe:
+The court proud Samos and Dulichium fills,
+And lofty Zacinth crown’d with shady hills.
+E’en Ithaca and all her lords invade
+The imperial sceptre, and the regal bed:
+The queen, averse to love, yet awed by power,
+Seems half to yield, yet flies the bridal hour:
+Meantime their licence uncontroll’d I bear;
+E’en now they envy me the vital air:
+But Heaven will sure revenge, and gods there are.
+
+“But go Eumaeus! to the queen impart
+Our safe return, and ease a mother’s heart.
+Yet secret go; for numerous are my foes,
+And here at least I may in peace repose.”
+
+To whom the swain: “I hear and I obey:
+But old Laertes weeps his life away,
+And deems thee lost: shall I my speed employ
+To bless his age: a messenger of joy?
+The mournful hour that tore his son away
+Sent the sad sire in solitude to stray;
+Yet busied with his slaves, to ease his woe,
+He dress’d the vine, and bade the garden blow,
+Nor food nor wine refused; but since the day
+That you to Pylos plough’d the watery way,
+Nor wine nor food he tastes; but, sunk in woes,
+Wild springs the vine, no more the garden blows,
+Shut from the walks of men, to pleasure lost,
+Pensive and pale he wanders half a ghost.”
+
+“Wretched old man! (with tears the prince returns)
+Yet cease to go—what man so blest but mourns?
+Were every wish indulged by favouring skies,
+This hour should give Ulysses to my eyes.
+But to the queen with speed dispatchful bear,
+Our safe return, and back with speed repair;
+And let some handmaid of her train resort
+To good Laertes in his rural court.”
+
+While yet he spoke, impatient of delay,
+He braced his sandals on, and strode away:
+Then from the heavens the martial goddess flies
+Through the wild fields of air, and cleaves the skies:
+In form, a virgin in soft beauty’s bloom,
+Skill’d in the illustrious labours of the loom.
+Alone to Ithaca she stood display’d,
+But unapparent as a viewless shade
+Escaped Telemachus (the powers above,
+Seen or unseen, o’er earth at pleasure move):
+The dogs intelligent confess’d the tread
+Of power divine, and howling, trembling, fled.
+The goddess, beckoning, waves her deathless hands:
+Dauntless the king before the goddess stands:
+
+“Then why (she said), O favour’d of the skies!
+Why to thy godlike son this long disguise?
+Stand forth reveal’d; with him thy cares employ
+Against thy foes; be valiant and destroy!
+Lo! I descend in that avenging hour,
+To combat by thy side, thy guardian power.”
+
+She said, and o’er him waves her wand of gold
+Imperial robes his manly limbs infold;
+At once with grace divine his frame improves;
+At once with majesty enlarged he moves:
+Youth flush’d his reddening cheek, and from his brows
+A length of hair in sable ringlets flows;
+His blackening chin receives a deeper shade;
+Then from his eyes upsprung the warrior-maid.
+
+The hero reascends: the prince o’erawed
+Scarce lifts his eyes, and bows as to a god,
+Then with surprise (surprise chastised by fears):
+“How art thou changed! (he cried)—a god appears!
+Far other vests thy limbs majestic grace,
+Far other glories lighten from thy face!
+If heaven be thy abode, with pious care,
+Lo! I the ready sacrifice prepare:
+Lo! gifts of labour’d gold adorn thy shrine,
+To win thy grace: O save us, power divine!”
+
+“Few are my days (Ulysses made reply),
+Nor I, alas! descendant of the sky.
+I am thy father. O my son! my son!
+That father, for whose sake thy days have run
+One scene of woe! to endless cares consign’d,
+And outraged by the wrongs of base mankind.”
+
+Then, rushing to his arms, he kiss’d his boy
+With the strong raptures of a parent’s joy.
+Tears bathe his cheek, and tears the ground bedew:
+He strain’d him close, as to his breast he grew.
+“Ah me! (exclaims the prince with fond desire)
+Thou art not—no, thou canst not be my sire.
+Heaven such illusion only can impose,
+By the false joy to aggravate my woes.
+Who but a god can change the general doom,
+And give to wither’d age a youthful bloom!
+Late, worn with years, in weeds obscene you trod;
+Now, clothed in majesty, you move a god!”
+
+“Forbear (he cried,) for Heaven reserve that name;
+Give to thy father but a father’s claim;
+Other Ulysses shalt thou never see,
+I am Ulysses, I, my son, am he.
+Twice ten sad years o’er earth and ocean toss’d,
+’Tis given at length to view my native coast.
+Pallas, unconquer’d maid, my frame surrounds
+With grace divine: her power admits no bounds;
+She o’er my limbs old age and wrinkles shed;
+Now strong as youth, magnificent I tread.
+The gods with ease frail man depress or raise,
+Exalt the lowly, or the proud debase.”
+
+He spoke and sate. The prince with transport flew,
+Hung round his neck, while tears his cheek bedew;
+Nor less the father pour’d a social flood;
+They wept abundant, and they wept aloud.
+As the bold eagle with fierce sorrow stung,
+Or parent vulture, mourns her ravish’d young;
+They cry, they scream, their unfledged brood a prey
+To some rude churl, and borne by stealth away:
+So they aloud: and tears in tides had run,
+Their grief unfinish’d with the setting sun;
+But checking the full torrent in its flow,
+The prince thus interrupts the solemn woe.
+“What ship transported thee, O father, say;
+And what bless’d hands have oar’d thee on the way?”
+
+“All, all (Ulysses instant made reply),
+I tell thee all, my child, my only joy!
+Phæacians bore me to the port assign’d,
+A nation ever to the stranger kind;
+Wrapp’d in the embrace of sleep, the faithful train
+O’er seas convey’d me to my native reign:
+Embroider’d vestures, gold, and brass, are laid
+Conceal’d in caverns in the sylvan shade.
+Hither, intent the rival rout to slay,
+And plan the scene of death, I bend my way;
+So Pallas wills—but thou, my son, explain
+The names and numbers of the audacious train;
+’Tis mine to judge if better to employ
+Assistant force, or singly to destroy.”
+
+“O’er earth (returns the prince) resounds thy name,
+Thy well-tried wisdom, and thy martial fame,
+Yet at thy words I start, in wonder lost;
+Can we engage, not decades but an host?
+Can we alone in furious battle stand,
+Against that numerous and determined band?
+Hear then their numbers; from Dulichium came
+Twice twenty-six, all peers of mighty name.
+Six are their menial train: twice twelve the boast
+Of Samos; twenty from Zacynthus’ coast:
+And twelve our country’s pride; to these belong
+Medon and Phemius, skill’d in heavenly song.
+Two sewers from day to day the revels wait,
+Exact of taste, and serve the feast in state.
+With such a foe the unequal fight to try,
+Were by false courage unrevenged to die.
+Then what assistant powers you boast relate,
+Ere yet we mingle in the stern debate.”
+
+“Mark well my voice, (Ulysses straight replies:)
+What need of aids, if favour’d by the skies?
+If shielded to the dreadful fight we move,
+By mighty Pallas, and by thundering Jove?”
+
+“Sufficient they (Telemachus rejoin’d)
+Against the banded powers of all mankind:
+They, high enthroned above the rolling clouds,
+Wither the strength of man, and awe the gods.”
+
+“Such aids expect (he cries,) when strong in might
+We rise terrific to the task of fight.
+But thou, when morn salutes the aërial plain,
+The court revisit and the lawless train:
+Me thither in disguise Eumaeus leads,
+An aged mendicant in tatter’d weeds.
+There, if base scorn insult my reverend age,
+Bear it, my son! repress thy rising rage.
+If outraged, cease that outrage to repel;
+Bear it, my son! howe’er thy heart rebel.
+Yet strive by prayer and counsel to restrain
+Their lawless insults, though thou strive in vain:
+For wicked ears are deaf to wisdom’s call,
+And vengeance strikes whom Heaven has doom’d to fall.
+Once more attend: when she whose power inspires
+The thinking mind, my soul to vengeance fires,
+I give the sign: that instant, from beneath,
+Aloft convey the instruments of death,
+Armour and arms; and, if mistrust arise,
+Thus veil the truth in plausible disguise:
+
+“‘These glittering weapons, ere he sail’d to Troy,
+Ulysses view’d with stern heroic joy:
+Then, beaming o’er the illumined wall they shone;
+Now dust dishonours, all their lustre gone.
+I bear them hence (so Jove my soul inspires),
+From the pollution of the fuming fires;
+Lest when the bowl inflames, in vengeful mood
+Ye rush to arms, and stain the feast with blood:
+Oft ready swords in luckless hour incite
+The hand of wrath, and arm it for the fight.’
+
+“Such be the plea, and by the plea deceive:
+For Jove infatuates all, and all believe.
+Yet leave for each of us a sword to wield,
+A pointed javelin, and a fenceful shield.
+But by my blood that in thy bosom glows,
+By that regard a son his father owes;
+The secret, that thy father lives, retain
+Lock’d in thy bosom from the household train;
+Hide it from all; e’en from Eumaeus hide,
+From my dear father, and my dearer bride.
+One care remains, to note the loyal few
+Whose faith yet lasts among the menial crew;
+And noting, ere we rise in vengeance, prove
+Who love his prince; for sure you merit love.”
+
+To whom the youth: “To emulate, I aim,
+The brave and wise, and my great father’s fame.
+But reconsider, since the wisest err,
+Vengeance resolved, ’tis dangerous to defer.
+What length of time must we consume in vain,
+Too curious to explore the menial train!
+While the proud foes, industrious to destroy
+Thy wealth, in riot the delay enjoy.
+Suffice it in this exigence alone
+To mark the damsels that attend the throne:
+Dispersed the youth reside; their faith to prove
+Jove grants henceforth, if thou hast spoke from Jove.”
+
+While in debate they waste the hours away,
+The associates of the prince repass’d the bay:
+With speed they guide the vessel to the shores;
+With speed debarking land the naval stores:
+Then, faithful to their charge, to Clytius bear,
+And trust the presents to his friendly care.
+Swift to the queen a herald flies to impart
+Her son’s return, and ease a parent’s heart:
+Lest a sad prey to ever-musing cares,
+Pale grief destroy what time awhile forbears.
+The incautious herald with impatience burns,
+And cries aloud, “Thy son, O queen, returns;”
+Eumaeus sage approach’d the imperial throne,
+And breathed his mandate to her ear alone,
+Then measured back the way. The suitor band,
+Stung to the soul, abash’d, confounded, stand;
+And issuing from the dome, before the gate,
+With clouded looks, a pale assembly sate.
+
+At length Eurymachus: “Our hopes are vain;
+Telemachus in triumph sails the main.
+Haste, rear the mast, the swelling shroud display;
+Haste, to our ambush’d friends the news convey!”
+
+Scarce had he spake, when, turning to the strand,
+Amphinomus survey’d the associate band;
+Full to the bay within the winding shores
+With gather’d sails they stood, and lifted oars.
+“O friends!” he cried, elate with rising joy,
+“See to the port secure the vessel fly!
+Some god has told them, or themselves survey
+The bark escaped; and measure back their way.”
+
+Swift at the word descending to the shores,
+They moor the vessel and unlade the stores:
+Then, moving from the strand, apart they sate,
+And full and frequent form’d a dire debate.
+
+“Lives then the boy? he lives (Antinous cries),
+The care of gods and favourite of the skies.
+All night we watch’d, till with her orient wheels
+Aurora flamed above the eastern hills,
+And from the lofty brow of rocks by day
+Took in the ocean with a broad survey
+Yet safe he sails; the powers celestial give
+To shun the hidden snares of death, and live.
+But die he shall, and thus condemn’d to bleed,
+Be now the scene of instant death decreed.
+Hope ye success? undaunted crush the foe.
+Is he not wise? know this, and strike the blow.
+Wait ye, till he to arms in council draws
+The Greeks, averse too justly to our cause?
+Strike, ere, the states convened, the foe betray
+Our murderous ambush on the watery way.
+Or choose ye vagrant from their rage to fly,
+Outcasts of earth, to breathe an unknown sky?
+The brave prevent misfortune; then be brave,
+And bury future danger in his grave.
+Returns he? ambush’d we’ll his walk invade,
+Or where he hides in solitude and shade;
+And give the palace to the queen a dower,
+Or him she blesses in the bridal hour.
+But if submissive you resign the sway,
+Slaves to a boy, go, flatter and obey.
+Retire we instant to our native reign,
+Nor be the wealth of kings consumed in vain;
+Then wed whom choice approves: the queen be given
+To some blest prince, the prince decreed by Heaven.”
+
+Abash’d, the suitor train his voice attends;
+Till from his throne Amphinomus ascends,
+Who o’er Dulichium stretch’d his spacious reign,
+A land of plenty, bless’d with every grain:
+Chief of the numbers who the queen address’d,
+And though displeasing, yet displeasing least.
+Soft were his words; his actions wisdom sway’d;
+Graceful awhile he paused, then mildly said:
+
+“O friends, forbear! and be the thought withstood:
+’Tis horrible to shed imperial blood!
+Consult we first the all-seeing powers above,
+And the sure oracles of righteous Jove.
+If they assent, e’en by this hand he dies;
+If they forbid, I war not with the skies.”
+
+He said: the rival train his voice approved,
+And rising instant to the palace moved.
+Arrived, with wild tumultuous noise they sate,
+Recumbent on the shining thrones of state.
+
+Then Medon, conscious of their dire debates,
+The murderous counsel to the queen relates.
+Touch’d at the dreadful story, she descends:
+Her hasty steps a damsel train attends.
+Full where the dome its shining valves expands,
+Sudden before the rival powers she stands;
+And, veiling, decent, with a modest shade
+Her cheek, indignant to Antinous said:
+
+“O void of faith! of all bad men the worst!
+Renown’d for wisdom, by the abuse accursed!
+Mistaking fame proclaims thy generous mind:
+Thy deeds denote thee of the basest kind.
+Wretch! to destroy a prince that friendship gives,
+While in his guest his murderer he receives;
+Nor dread superior Jove, to whom belong
+The cause of suppliants, and revenge of wrong.
+Hast thou forgot, ungrateful as thou art,
+Who saved thy father with a friendly part?
+Lawless he ravaged with his martial powers
+The Taphian pirates on Thesprotia’s shores;
+Enraged, his life, his treasures they demand;
+Ulysses saved him from the avenger’s hand.
+And would’st thou evil for his good repay?
+His bed dishonour, and his house betray?
+Afflict his queen, and with a murderous hand
+Destroy his heir!—but cease, ’tis I command.”
+
+“Far hence those fears (Eurymachus replied,)
+O prudent princess! bid thy soul confide.
+Breathes there a man who dares that hero slay,
+While I behold the golden light of day?
+No: by the righteous powers of heaven I swear,
+His blood in vengeance smokes upon my spear.
+Ulysses, when my infant days I led,
+With wine sufficed me, and with dainties fed:
+My generous soul abhors the ungrateful part,
+And my friend’s son lives nearest to my heart.
+Then fear no mortal arm; if Heaven destroy,
+We must resign: for man is born to die.”
+
+Thus smooth he ended, yet his death conspired:
+Then sorrowing, with sad step the queen retired,
+With streaming eyes, all comfortless deplored,
+Touch’d with the dear remembrance of her lord:
+Nor ceased till Pallas bids her sorrows fly,
+And in soft slumber seal’d her flowing eye.
+
+And now Eumaeus, at the evening hour,
+Came late, returning to his sylvan bower.
+Ulysses and his son had dress’d with art
+A yearling boar, and gave the gods their part.
+Holy repast! That instant from the skies
+The martial goddess to Ulysses flies:
+She waves her golden wand, and reassumes
+From every feature every grace that blooms;
+At once his vestures change; at once she sheds
+Age o’er his limbs, that tremble as he treads:
+Lest to the queen the swain with transport fly,
+Unable to contain the unruly joy;
+When near he drew, the prince breaks forth: “Proclaim
+What tidings, friend? what speaks the voice of fame?
+Say, if the suitors measure back the main,
+Or still in ambush thirst for blood in vain?”
+
+“Whether (he cries) they measure back the flood,
+Or still in ambush thirst in vain for blood,
+Escaped my care: where lawless suitors sway,
+Thy mandate borne my soul disdain’d to stay.
+But from the Hermaean height I cast a view,
+Where to the port a bark high-bounding flew;
+Her freight a shining band: with martial air
+Each poised his shield, and each advanced his spear;
+And, if aright these searching eyes survey,
+The eluded suitors stem the watery way.”
+
+The prince, well pleased to disappoint their wiles,
+Steals on his sire a glance, and secret smiles.
+And now, a short repast prepared, they fed
+Till the keen rage of craving hunger fled:
+Then to repose withdrawn, apart they lay,
+And in soft sleep forgot the cares of day.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XVII.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+
+Telemachus returning to the city, relates to Penelope the sum of his
+travels. Ulysses is conducted by Eumaeus to the palace, where his old
+dog Argus acknowledges his master, after an absence of twenty years,
+and dies with joy. Eumaeus returns into the country, and Ulysses
+remains among the suitors, whose behaviour is described.
+
+
+Soon as Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
+Sprinkled with roseate light the dewy lawn,
+In haste the prince arose, prepared to part;
+His hand impatient grasps the pointed dart;
+Fair on his feet the polish’d sandals shine,
+And thus he greets the master of the swine:
+
+“My friend, adieu! let this short stay suffice;
+I haste to meet my mother’s longing eyes,
+And end her tears, her sorrows and her sighs.
+But thou, attentive, what we order heed:
+This hapless stranger to the city lead:
+By public bounty let him there be fed,
+And bless the hand that stretches forth the bread.
+To wipe the tears from all afflicted eyes,
+My will may covet, but my power denies.
+If this raise anger in the stranger’s thought,
+The pain of anger punishes the fault:
+The very truth I undisguised declare;
+For what so easy as to be sincere?”
+
+To this Ulysses: “What the prince requires
+Of swift removal, seconds my desires.
+To want like mine the peopled town can yield
+More hopes of comfort than the lonely field:
+Nor fits my age to till the labour’d lands,
+Or stoop to tasks a rural lord demands.
+Adieu! but since this ragged garb can bear
+So ill the inclemencies of morning air,
+A few hours’ space permit me here to stay:
+My steps Eumaeus shall to town convey,
+With riper beams when Phœbus warms the day.”
+
+Thus he: nor aught Telemachus replied,
+But left the mansion with a lofty stride:
+Schemes of revenge his pondering breast elate,
+Revolving deep the suitors’ sudden fate,
+Arriving now before the imperial hall,
+He props his spear against the pillar’d wall;
+Then like a lion o’er the threshold bounds;
+The marble pavement with his steps resounds:
+His eye first glanced where Euryclea spreads
+With furry spoils of beasts the splendid beds:
+She saw, she wept, she ran with eager pace,
+And reach’d her master with a long embrace.
+All crowded round, the family appears
+With wild entrancement, and ecstatic tears.
+Swift from above descends the royal fair
+(Her beauteous cheeks the blush of Venus wear,
+Chasten’d with coy Diana’s pensive air);
+Hangs o’er her son, in his embraces dies;
+Rains kisses on his neck, his face, his eyes:
+Few words she spoke, though much she had to say;
+And scarce those few, for tears, could force their way.
+
+“Light of my eyes: he comes! unhoped-for joy!
+Has Heaven from Pylos brought my lovely boy?
+So snatch’d from all our cares!—Tell, hast thou known
+Thy father’s fate, and tell me all thy own.”
+
+“Oh dearest! most revered of womankind!
+Cease with those tears to melt a manly mind
+(Replied the prince); nor be our fates deplored,
+From death and treason to thy arms restored.
+Go bathe, and robed in white ascend the towers;
+With all thy handmaids thank the immortal powers;
+To every god vow hecatombs to bleed.
+And call Jove’s vengeance on their guilty deed.
+While to the assembled council I repair:
+A stranger sent by Heaven attends me there;
+My new accepted guest I haste to find,
+Now to Peiraeus’ honour’d charge consign’d.”
+
+The matron heard, nor was his word in vain.
+She bathed; and, robed in white, with all her train,
+To every god vow’d hecatombs to bleed,
+And call’d Jove’s vengeance on the guilty deed,
+Arm’d with his lance, the prince then pass’d the gate,
+Two dogs behind, a faithful guard, await;
+Pallas his form with grace divine improves:
+The gazing crowd admires him as he moves.
+Him, gathering round, the haughty suitors greet
+With semblance fair, but inward deep deceit,
+Their false addresses, generous, he denied.
+Pass’d on, and sate by faithful Mentor’s side;
+With Antiphus, and Halitherses sage
+(His father’s counsellors, revered for age).
+Of his own fortunes, and Ulysses’ fame,
+Much ask’d the seniors; till Peiraeus came.
+The stranger-guest pursued him close behind;
+Whom when Telemachus beheld, he join’d.
+He (when Peiraeus ask’d for slaves to bring
+The gifts and treasures of the Spartan king)
+Thus thoughtful answer’d: “Those we shall not move,
+Dark and unconscious of the will of Jove;
+We know not yet the full event of all:
+Stabb’d in his palace if your prince must fall,
+Us, and our house, if treason must o’erthrow,
+Better a friend possess them than a foe;
+If death to these, and vengeance Heaven decree,
+Riches are welcome then, not else, to me.
+Till then retain the gifts.”—The hero said,
+And in his hand the willing stranger led.
+Then disarray’d, the shining bath they sought
+(With unguents smooth) of polish’d marble wrought:
+Obedient handmaids with assistant toil
+Supply the limpid wave, and fragrant oil:
+Then o’er their limbs refulgent robes they threw,
+And fresh from bathing to their seats withdrew.
+The golden ewer a nymph attendant brings,
+Replenish’d from the pure translucent springs;
+With copious streams that golden ewer supplies
+A silver layer of capacious size.
+They wash: the table, in fair order spread,
+Is piled with viands and the strength of bread.
+Full opposite, before the folding gate,
+The pensive mother sits in humble state;
+Lowly she sate, and with dejected view
+The fleecy threads her ivory fingers drew.
+The prince and stranger shared the genial feast,
+Till now the rage of thirst and hunger ceased.
+
+When thus the queen: “My son! my only friend!
+Say, to my mournful couch shall I ascend?
+(The couch deserted now a length of years;
+The couch for ever water’d with my tears;)
+Say, wilt thou not (ere yet the suitor crew
+Return, and riot shakes our walls anew),
+Say, wilt thou not the least account afford?
+The least glad tidings of my absent lord?”
+
+To her the youth. “We reach’d the Pylian plains,
+Where Nestor, shepherd of his people, reigns.
+All arts of tenderness to him are known,
+Kind to Ulysses’ race as to his own;
+No father with a fonder grasp of joy
+Strains to his bosom his long-absent boy.
+But all unknown, if yet Ulysses breathe,
+Or glide a spectre in the realms beneath;
+For farther search, his rapid steeds transport
+My lengthen’d journey to the Spartan court.
+There Argive Helen I beheld, whose charms
+(So Heaven decreed) engaged the great in arms.
+My cause of coming told, he thus rejoin’d;
+And still his words live perfect in my mind:
+
+“‘Heavens! would a soft, inglorious, dastard train
+An absent hero’s nuptial joys profane
+So with her young, amid the woodland shades,
+A timorous hind the lion’s court invades,
+Leaves in that fatal lair her tender fawns,
+And climbs the cliffs, or feeds along the lawns;
+Meantime returning, with remorseless sway
+The monarch savage rends the panting prey:
+With equal fury, and with equal fame,
+Shall great Ulysses reassert his claim.
+O Jove! supreme! whom men and gods revere;
+And thou whose lustre gilds the rolling sphere!
+With power congenial join’d, propitious aid
+The chief adopted by the martial maid!
+Such to our wish the warrior soon restore,
+As when, contending on the Lesbian shore,
+His prowess Philomelides confess’d,
+And loud acclaiming Greeks the victor bless’d:
+Then soon the invaders of his bed, and throne,
+Their love presumptuous shall by death atone.
+Now what you question of my ancient friend,
+With truth I answer; thou the truth attend.
+Learn what I heard the sea-born seer relate,
+Whose eye can pierce the dark recess of fate
+Sole in an isle, imprison’d by the main,
+The sad survivor of his numerous train,
+Ulysses lies; detain’d by magic charms,
+And press’d unwilling in Calypso’s arms.
+No sailors there, no vessels to convey,
+No oars to cut the immeasurable way.’
+This told Atrides, and he told no more.
+Then safe I voyaged to my native shore.”
+
+He ceased; nor made the pensive queen reply,
+But droop’d her head, and drew a secret sigh.
+When Theoclymenus the seer began:
+“O suffering consort of the suffering man!
+What human knowledge could, those kings might tell,
+But I the secrets of high heaven reveal.
+Before the first of gods be this declared,
+Before the board whose blessings we have shared;
+Witness the genial rites, and witness all
+This house holds sacred in her ample wall!
+E’en now, this instant, great Ulysses, laid
+At rest, or wandering in his country’s shade,
+Their guilty deeds, in hearing, and in view,
+Secret revolves; and plans the vengeance due.
+Of this sure auguries the gods bestow’d,
+When first our vessel anchor’d in your road.”
+“Succeed those omens, Heaven! (the queen rejoin’d)
+So shall our bounties speak a grateful mind;
+And every envied happiness attend
+The man who calls Penelope his friend.”
+Thus communed they: while in the marble court
+(Scene of their insolence) the lords resort:
+Athwart the spacious square each tries his art,
+To whirl the disk, or aim the missile dart.
+Now did the hour of sweet repast arrive,
+And from the field the victim flocks they drive:
+Medon the herald (one who pleased them best,
+And honour’d with a portion of their feast),
+To bid the banquet, interrupts their play:
+Swift to the hall they haste; aside they lay
+Their garments, and succinct the victims slay.
+Then sheep, and goats, and bristly porkers bled,
+And the proud steer was o’er the marble spread.
+While thus the copious banquet they provide,
+Along the road, conversing side by side,
+Proceed Ulysses and the faithful swain;
+When thus Eumaeus, generous and humane:
+“To town, observant of our lord’s behest,
+Now let us speed; my friend no more my guest!
+Yet like myself I wish thee here preferr’d,
+Guard of the flock, or keeper of the herd,
+But much to raise my master’s wrath I fear;
+The wrath of princes ever is severe.
+Then heed his will, and be our journey made
+While the broad beams of Phœbus are display’d,
+Or ere brown evening spreads her chilly shade.”
+“Just thy advice (the prudent chief rejoin’d),
+And such as suits the dictate of my mind.
+Lead on: but help me to some staff to stay
+My feeble step, since rugged is the way.”
+Across his shoulders then the scrip he flung,
+Wide-patch’d, and fasten’d by a twisted thong.
+A staff Eumaeus gave. Along the way
+Cheerly they fare: behind, the keepers stay:
+These with their watchful dogs (a constant guard)
+Supply his absence, and attend the herd.
+And now his city strikes the monarch’s eyes,
+Alas! how changed! a man of miseries;
+Propp’d on a staff, a beggar old and bare
+In rags dishonest fluttering with the air!
+Now pass’d the rugged road, they journey down
+The cavern’d way descending to the town,
+Where, from the rock, with liquid drops distils
+A limpid fount; that spread in parting rills
+Its current thence to serve the city brings;
+An useful work, adorn’d by ancient kings.
+Neritus, Ithacus, Polyctor, there,
+In sculptured stone immortalized their care,
+In marble urns received it from above,
+And shaded with a green surrounding grove;
+Where silver alders, in high arches twined,
+Drink the cool stream, and tremble to the wind.
+Beneath, sequester’d to the nymphs, is seen
+A mossy altar, deep embower’d in green;
+Where constant vows by travellers are paid,
+And holy horrors solemnize the shade.
+
+Here with his goats (not vow’d to sacred fame,
+But pamper’d luxury) Melanthius came:
+Two grooms attend him. With an envious look
+He eyed the stranger, and imperious spoke:
+
+“The good old proverb how this pair fulfil!
+One rogue is usher to another still.
+Heaven with a secret principle endued
+Mankind, to seek their own similitude.
+Where goes the swineherd with that ill-look’d guest?
+That giant-glutton, dreadful at a feast!
+Full many a post have those broad shoulders worn,
+From every great man’s gate repulsed with scorn:
+To no brave prize aspired the worthless swain,
+’Twas but for scraps he ask’d, and ask’d in vain.
+To beg, than work, he better understands,
+Or we perhaps might take him off thy hands.
+For any office could the slave be good,
+To cleanse the fold, or help the kids to food.
+If any labour those big joints could learn,
+Some whey, to wash his bowels, he might earn.
+To cringe, to whine, his idle hands to spread,
+Is all, by which that graceless maw is fed.
+Yet hear me! if thy impudence but dare
+Approach yon wall, I prophesy thy fare:
+Dearly, full dearly, shalt thou buy thy bread
+With many a footstool thundering at thy head.”
+
+He thus: nor insolent of word alone,
+Spurn’d with his rustic heel his king unknown;
+Spurn’d, but not moved: he like a pillar stood,
+Nor stirr’d an inch, contemptuous, from the road:
+Doubtful, or with his staff to strike him dead,
+Or greet the pavement with his worthless head.
+Short was that doubt; to quell his rage inured,
+The hero stood self-conquer’d, and endured.
+But hateful of the wretch, Eumaeus heaved
+His hands obtesting, and this prayer conceived:
+“Daughters of Jove! who from the ethereal bowers
+Descend to swell the springs, and feed the flowers!
+Nymphs of this fountain! to whose sacred names
+Our rural victims mount in blazing flames!
+To whom Ulysses’ piety preferr’d
+The yearly firstlings of his flock and herd;
+Succeed my wish, your votary restore:
+Oh, be some god his convoy to our shore!
+Due pains shall punish then this slave’s offence,
+And humble all his airs of insolence,
+Who, proudly stalking, leaves the herds at large,
+Commences courtier, and neglects his charge.”
+
+“What mutters he? (Melanthius sharp rejoins;)
+This crafty miscreant, big with dark designs?
+The day shall come—nay, ’tis already near—
+When, slave! to sell thee at a price too dear
+Must be my care; and hence transport thee o’er,
+A load and scandal to this happy shore.
+Oh! that as surely great Apollo’s dart,
+Or some brave suitor’s sword, might pierce the heart
+Of the proud son; as that we stand this hour
+In lasting safety from the father’s power!”
+
+So spoke the wretch, but, shunning farther fray,
+Turn’d his proud step, and left them on their way.
+Straight to the feastful palace he repair’d,
+Familiar enter’d, and the banquet shared;
+Beneath Eurymachus, his patron lord,
+He took his place, and plenty heap’d the board.
+
+Meantime they heard, soft circling in the sky
+Sweet airs ascend, and heavenly minstrelsy
+(For Phemius to the lyre attuned the strain):
+Ulysses hearken’d, then address’d the swain:
+
+“Well may this palace admiration claim,
+Great and respondent to the master’s fame!
+Stage above stage the imperial structure stands,
+Holds the chief honours, and the town commands:
+High walls and battlements the courts inclose,
+And the strong gates defy a host of foes.
+Far other cares its dwellers now employ;
+The throng’d assembly and the feast of joy:
+I see the smokes of sacrifice aspire,
+And hear (what graces every feast) the lyre.”
+
+Then thus Eumaeus: “Judge we which were best;
+Amidst yon revellers a sudden guest
+Choose you to mingle, while behind I stay?
+Or I first entering introduce the way?
+Wait for a space without, but wait not long;
+This is the house of violence and wrong:
+Some rude insult thy reverend age may bear;
+For like their lawless lords the servants are.”
+
+“Just is, O friend! thy caution, and address’d
+(Replied the chief, to no unheedful breast:)
+The wrongs and injuries of base mankind
+Fresh to my sense, and always in my mind.
+The bravely-patient to no fortune yields:
+On rolling oceans, and in fighting fields,
+Storms have I pass’d, and many a stern debate;
+And now in humbler scene submit to fate.
+What cannot want? The best she will expose,
+And I am learn’d in all her train of woes;
+She fills with navies, hosts, and loud alarms,
+The sea, the land, and shakes the world with arms!”
+
+Thus, near the gates conferring as they drew,
+Argus, the dog, his ancient master knew:
+He not unconscious of the voice and tread,
+Lifts to the sound his ear, and rears his head;
+Bred by Ulysses, nourish’d at his board,
+But, ah! not fated long to please his lord;
+To him, his swiftness and his strength were vain;
+The voice of glory call’d him o’er the main.
+Till then in every sylvan chase renown’d,
+With Argus, Argus, rung the woods around;
+With him the youth pursued the goat or fawn,
+Or traced the mazy leveret o’er the lawn.
+Now left to man’s ingratitude he lay,
+Unhoused, neglected in the public way;
+And where on heaps the rich manure was spread,
+Obscene with reptiles, took his sordid bed.
+
+He knew his lord; he knew, and strove to meet;
+In vain he strove to crawl and kiss his feet;
+Yet (all he could) his tail, his tears, his eyes,
+Salute his master, and confess his joys.
+Soft pity touch’d the mighty master’s soul;
+Adown his cheek a tear unbidden stole,
+Stole unperceived: he turn’d his head and dried
+The drop humane: then thus impassion’d cried:
+
+“What noble beast in this abandon’d state
+Lies here all helpless at Ulysses’ gate?
+His bulk and beauty speak no vulgar praise:
+If, as he seems, he was in better days,
+Some care his age deserves; or was he prized
+For worthless beauty? therefore now despised;
+Such dogs and men there are, mere things of state;
+And always cherish’d by their friends, the great.”
+
+“Not Argus so, (Eumaeus thus rejoin’d,)
+But served a master of a nobler kind,
+Who, never, never shall behold him more!
+Long, long since perish’d on a distant shore!
+Oh had you seen him, vigorous, bold, and young,
+Swift as a stag, and as a lion strong:
+Him no fell savage on the plain withstood,
+None ’scaped him bosom’d in the gloomy wood;
+His eye how piercing, and his scent how true,
+To wind the vapour on the tainted dew!
+Such, when Ulysses left his natal coast:
+Now years unnerve him, and his lord is lost!
+The women keep the generous creature bare,
+A sleek and idle race is all their care:
+The master gone, the servants what restrains?
+Or dwells humanity where riot reigns?
+Jove fix’d it certain, that whatever day
+Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away.”
+
+This said, the honest herdsman strode before;
+The musing monarch pauses at the door:
+The dog, whom Fate had granted to behold
+His lord, when twenty tedious years had roll’d,
+Takes a last look, and having seen him, dies;
+So closed for ever faithful Argus’ eyes!
+
+And now Telemachus, the first of all,
+Observed Eumaeus entering in the hall;
+Distant he saw, across the shady dome;
+Then gave a sign, and beckon’d him to come:
+There stood an empty seat, where late was placed,
+In order due, the steward of the feast,
+(Who now was busied carving round the board,)
+Eumaeus took, and placed it near his lord.
+Before him instant was the banquet spread,
+And the bright basket piled with loaves of bread.
+
+Next came Ulysses lowly at the door,
+A figure despicable, old, and poor.
+In squalid vests, with many a gaping rent,
+Propp’d on a staff, and trembling as he went.
+Then, resting on the threshold of the gate,
+Against a cypress pillar lean’d his weight
+Smooth’d by the workman to a polish’d plane);
+The thoughtful son beheld, and call’d his swain
+
+“These viands, and this bread, Eumaeus! bear,
+And let yon mendicant our plenty share:
+And let him circle round the suitors’ board,
+And try the bounty of each gracious lord.
+Bold let him ask, encouraged thus by me:
+How ill, alas! do want and shame agree!”
+
+His lord’s command the faithful servant bears:
+The seeming beggar answers with his prayers:
+“Bless’d be Telemachus! in every deed
+Inspire him. Jove! in every wish succeed!”
+This said, the portion from his son convey’d
+With smiles receiving on his scrip he laid.
+Long has the minstrel swept the sounding wire,
+He fed, and ceased when silence held the lyre.
+Soon as the suitors from the banquet rose,
+Minerva prompts the man of mighty woes
+To tempt their bounties with a suppliant’s art,
+And learn the generous from the ignoble heart
+(Not but his soul, resentful as humane,
+Dooms to full vengeance all the offending train);
+With speaking eyes, and voice of plaintive sound,
+Humble he moves, imploring all around.
+The proud feel pity, and relief bestow,
+With such an image touch’d of human woe;
+Inquiring all, their wonder they confess,
+And eye the man, majestic in distress.
+
+While thus they gaze and question with their eyes,
+The bold Melanthius to their thought replies:
+“My lords! this stranger of gigantic port
+The good Eumaeus usher’d to your court.
+Full well I mark’d the features of his face,
+Though all unknown his clime, or noble race.”
+
+“And is this present, swineherd! of thy band?
+Bring’st thou these vagrants to infest the land?
+(Returns Antinous with retorted eye)
+Objects uncouth, to check the genial joy.
+Enough of these our court already grace;
+Of giant stomach, and of famish’d face.
+Such guests Eumaeus to his country brings,
+To share our feast, and lead the life of kings.”
+
+To whom the hospitable swain rejoins:
+“Thy passion, prince, belies thy knowing mind.
+Who calls, from distant nations to his own,
+The poor, distinguish’d by their wants alone?
+Round the wide world are sought those men divine
+Who public structures raise, or who design;
+Those to whose eyes the gods their ways reveal,
+Or bless with salutary arts to heal;
+But chief to poets such respect belongs,
+By rival nations courted for their songs;
+These states invite, and mighty kings admire,
+Wide as the sun displays his vital fire.
+It is not so with want! how few that feed
+A wretch unhappy, merely for his need!
+Unjust to me, and all that serve the state,
+To love Ulysses is to raise thy hate.
+For me, suffice the approbation won
+Of my great mistress, and her godlike son.”
+
+To him Telemachus: “No more incense
+The man by nature prone to insolence:
+Injurious minds just answers but provoke”—
+Then turning to Antinous, thus he spoke:
+“Thanks to thy care! whose absolute command
+Thus drives the stranger from our court and land.
+Heaven bless its owner with a better mind!
+From envy free, to charity inclined.
+This both Penelope and I afford:
+Then, prince! be bounteous of Ulysses’ board.
+To give another’s is thy hand so slow?
+So much more sweet to spoil than to bestow?”
+
+“Whence, great Telemachus! this lofty strain?
+(Antinous cries with insolent disdain):
+Portions like mine if every suitor gave,
+Our walls this twelvemonth should not see the slave.”
+
+He spoke, and lifting high above the board
+His ponderous footstool, shook it at his lord.
+The rest with equal hand conferr’d the bread:
+He fill’d his scrip, and to the threshold sped;
+But first before Antinous stopp’d, and said:
+“Bestow, my friend! thou dost not seem the worst
+Of all the Greeks, but prince-like and the first;
+Then, as in dignity, be first in worth,
+And I shall praise thee through the boundless earth.
+Once I enjoy’d in luxury of state
+Whate’er gives man the envied name of great;
+Wealth, servants, friends, were mine in better days
+And hospitality was then my praise;
+In every sorrowing soul I pour’d delight,
+And poverty stood smiling in my sight.
+But Jove, all-governing, whose only will
+Determines fate, and mingles good with ill,
+Sent me (to punish my pursuit of gain)
+With roving pirates o’er the Egyptian main
+By Egypt’s silver flood our ships we moor;
+Our spies commission’d straight the coast explore;
+But impotent of mind, the lawless will
+The country ravage, and the natives kill.
+The spreading clamour to their city flies,
+And horse and foot in mingled tumults rise:
+The reddening dawn reveals the hostile fields,
+Horrid with bristly spears, and gleaming shields:
+Jove thunder’d on their side: our guilty head
+We turn’d to flight; the gathering vengeance spread
+On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lay dead.
+Some few the foe in servitude detain;
+Death ill exchanged for bondage and for pain!
+Unhappy me a Cyprian took aboard,
+And gave to Dmetor, Cyprus’ haughty lord:
+Hither, to ’scape his chains, my course I steer,
+Still cursed by Fortune, and insulted here!”
+
+To whom Antinous thus his rage express’d:
+“What god has plagued us with this gourmand guest?
+Unless at distance, wretch! thou keep behind,
+Another isle, than Cyprus more unkind,
+Another Egypt shalt thou quickly find.
+From all thou begg’st, a bold audacious slave;
+Nor all can give so much as thou canst crave.
+Nor wonder I, at such profusion shown;
+Shameless they give, who give what’s not their own.”
+
+The chief, retiring: “Souls, like that in thee,
+Ill suits such forms of grace and dignity.
+Nor will that hand to utmost need afford
+The smallest portion of a wasteful board,
+Whose luxury whole patrimonies sweeps,
+Yet starving want, amidst the riot, weeps.”
+
+The haughty suitor with resentment burns,
+And, sourly smiling, this reply returns:
+“Take that, ere yet thou quit this princely throng;
+And dumb for ever be thy slanderous tongue!”
+He said, and high the whirling tripod flung.
+His shoulder-blade received the ungentle shock;
+He stood, and moved not, like a marble rock;
+But shook his thoughtful head, nor more complain’d,
+Sedate of soul, his character sustain’d,
+And inly form’d revenge; then back withdrew:
+Before his feet the well fill’d scrip he threw,
+And thus with semblance mild address’d the crew:
+
+“May what I speak your princely minds approve,
+Ye peers and rivals in this noble love!
+Not for the hurt I grieve, but for the cause.
+If, when the sword our country’s quarrel draws,
+Or if, defending what is justly dear,
+From Mars impartial some broad wound we bear,
+The generous motive dignifies the scar.
+But for mere want, how hard to suffer wrong!
+Want brings enough of other ills along!
+Yet, if injustice never be secure,
+If fiends revenge, and gods assert the poor,
+Death shall lay low the proud aggressor’s head,
+And make the dust Antinous’ bridal bed.”
+
+“Peace, wretch! and eat thy bread without offence
+(The suitor cried), or force shall drag thee hence,
+Scourge through the public street, and cast thee there,
+A mangled carcase for the hounds to tear.”
+
+His furious deed the general anger moved,
+All, even the worst, condemn’d; and some reproved.
+“Was ever chief for wars like these renown’d?
+Ill fits the stranger and the poor to wound.
+Unbless’d thy hand! if in this low disguise
+Wander, perhaps, some inmate of the skies;
+They (curious oft of mortal actions) deign
+In forms like these to round the earth and main,
+Just and unjust recording in their mind,
+And with sure eyes inspecting all mankind.”
+
+Telemachus, absorb’d in thought severe,
+Nourish’d deep anguish, though he shed no tear;
+But the dark brow of silent sorrow shook:
+While thus his mother to her virgins spoke:
+
+“On him and his may the bright god of day
+That base, inhospitable blow repay!”
+The nurse replies: “If Jove receives my prayer,
+Not one survives to breathe to-morrow’s air.”
+
+“All, all are foes, and mischief is their end;
+Antinous most to gloomy death a friend
+(Replies the queen): the stranger begg’d their grace,
+And melting pity soften’d every face;
+From every other hand redress he found,
+But fell Antinous answer’d with a wound.”
+Amidst her maids thus spoke the prudent queen,
+Then bade Eumaeus call the pilgrim in.
+“Much of the experienced man I long to hear,
+If or his certain eye, or listening ear,
+Have learn’d the fortunes of my wandering lord?”
+Thus she, and good Eumaeus took the word:
+
+“A private audience if thy grace impart,
+The stranger’s words may ease the royal heart.
+His sacred eloquence in balm distils,
+And the soothed heart with secret pleasure fills.
+Three days have spent their beams, three nights have run
+Their silent journey, since his tale begun,
+Unfinish’d yet; and yet I thirst to hear!
+As when some heaven-taught poet charms the ear
+(Suspending sorrow with celestial strain
+Breathed from the gods to soften human pain)
+Time steals away with unregarded wing,
+And the soul hears him, though he cease to sing
+
+“Ulysses late he saw, on Cretan ground
+(His fathers guest), for Minos’ birth renown’d.
+He now but waits the wind to waft him o’er,
+With boundless treasure, from Thesprotia’s shore.”
+
+To this the queen: “The wanderer let me hear,
+While yon luxurious race indulge their cheer,
+Devour the grazing ox, and browsing goat,
+And turn my generous vintage down their throat.
+For where’s an arm, like thine, Ulysses! strong,
+To curb wild riot, and to punish wrong?”
+
+She spoke. Telemachus then sneezed aloud;
+Constrain’d, his nostril echoed through the crowd.
+The smiling queen the happy omen bless’d:
+
+“So may these impious fall, by Fate oppress’d!”
+Then to Eumaeus: “Bring the stranger, fly!
+And if my questions meet a true reply,
+Graced with a decent robe he shall retire,
+A gift in season which his wants require.”
+
+Thus spoke Penelope. Eumaeus flies
+In duteous haste, and to Ulysses cries:
+“The queen invites thee, venerable guest!
+A secret instinct moves her troubled breast,
+Of her long absent lord from thee to gain
+Some light, and soothe her soul’s eternal pain.
+If true, if faithful thou, her grateful mind
+Of decent robes a present has design’d:
+So finding favour in the royal eye,
+Thy other wants her subjects shall supply.”
+
+“Fair truth alone (the patient man replied)
+My words shall dictate, and my lips shall guide.
+To him, to me, one common lot was given,
+In equal woes, alas! involved by Heaven.
+Much of his fates I know; but check’d by fear
+I stand; the hand of violence is here:
+Here boundless wrongs the starry skies invade,
+And injured suppliants seek in vain for aid.
+Let for a space the pensive queen attend,
+Nor claim my story till the sun descend;
+Then in such robes as suppliants may require,
+Composed and cheerful by the genial fire,
+When loud uproar and lawless riot cease,
+Shall her pleased ear receive my words in peace.”
+
+Swift to the queen returns the gentle swain:
+“And say (she cries), does fear or shame detain
+The cautious stranger? With the begging kind
+Shame suits but ill.” Eumaeus thus rejoin’d:
+
+“He only asks a more propitious hour,
+And shuns (who would not?) wicked men in power;
+At evening mild (meet season to confer)
+By turns to question, and by turns to hear.”
+
+“Whoe’er this guest (the prudent queen replies)
+His every step and every thought is wise.
+For men like these on earth he shall not find
+In all the miscreant race of human kind.”
+Thus she. Eumaeus all her words attends,
+And, parting, to the suitor powers descends;
+There seeks Telemachus, and thus apart
+In whispers breathes the fondness of his heart:
+
+“The time, my lord, invites me to repair
+Hence to the lodge; my charge demands my care.
+These sons of murder thirst thy life to take;
+O guard it, guard it, for thy servant’s sake!”
+
+“Thanks to my friend (he cries): but now the hour
+Of night draws on, go seek the rural bower:
+But first refresh: and at the dawn of day
+Hither a victim to the gods convey.
+Our life to Heaven’s immortal powers we trust,
+Safe in their care, for Heaven protects the just.”
+
+Observant of his voice, Eumaeus sate
+And fed recumbent on a chair of state.
+Then instant rose, and as he moved along,
+’Twas riot all amid the suitor throng,
+They feast, they dance, and raise the mirthful song
+Till now, declining towards the close of day,
+The sun obliquely shot his dewy ray.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XVIII.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE FIGHT OF ULYSSES AND IRUS.
+
+
+The beggar Irus insults Ulysses; the suitors promote the quarrel, in
+which Irus is worsted, and miserably handled. Penelope descends, and
+receives the presents of the suitors. The dialogue of Ulysses with
+Eurymachus.
+
+
+While fix’d in thought the pensive hero sate,
+A mendicant approach’d the royal gate;
+A surly vagrant of the giant kind,
+The stain of manhood, of a coward mind:
+From feast to feast, insatiate to devour,
+He flew, attendant on the genial hour.
+Him on his mother’s knees, when babe he lay,
+She named Arnaeus on his natal day:
+But Irus his associates call’d the boy,
+Practised the common messenger to fly;
+Irus, a name expressive of the employ.
+
+From his own roof, with meditated blows,
+He strove to drive the man of mighty woes:
+
+“Hence, dotard! hence, and timely speed thy way,
+Lest dragg’d in vengeance thou repent thy stay;
+See how with nods assent yon princely train!
+But honouring age, in mercy I refrain:
+In peace away! lest, if persuasions fail,
+This arm with blows more eloquent prevail.”
+To whom, with stern regard: “O insolence,
+Indecently to rail without offence!
+What bounty gives without a rival share;
+I ask, what harms not thee, to breathe this air:
+Alike on alms we both precarious live:
+And canst thou envy when the great relieve?
+Know, from the bounteous heavens all riches flow,
+And what man gives, the gods by man bestow;
+Proud as thou art, henceforth no more be proud,
+Lest I imprint my vengeance in thy blood;
+Old as I am, should once my fury burn,
+How would’st thou fly, nor e’en in thought return!”
+
+“Mere woman-glutton! (thus the churl replied;)
+A tongue so flippant, with a throat so wide!
+Why cease I, gods! to dash those teeth away,
+Like some wild boar’s, that, greedy of his prey,
+Uproots the bearded corn? Rise, try the fight,
+Gird well thy loins, approach, and feel my might:
+Sure of defeat, before the peers engage:
+Unequal fight, when youth contends with age!”
+
+Thus in a wordy war their tongues display
+More fierce intents, preluding to the fray;
+Antinous hears, and in a jovial vein,
+Thus with loud laughter to the suitor train:
+
+“This happy day in mirth, my friends, employ,
+And lo! the gods conspire to crown our joy;
+See ready for the fight, and hand to hand,
+Yon surly mendicants contentious stand:
+Why urge we not to blows!” Well pleased they spring
+Swift from their seats, and thickening form a ring.
+
+To whom Antinous: “Lo! enrich’d with blood,
+A kid’s well-fatted entrails (tasteful food)
+On glowing embers lie; on him bestow
+The choicest portion who subdues his foe;
+Grant him unrivall’d in these walls to stay,
+The sole attendant on the genial day.”
+
+The lords applaud: Ulysses then with art,
+And fears well-feign’d, disguised his dauntless heart.
+
+“Worn as I am with age, decay’d with woe;
+Say, is it baseness to decline the foe?
+Hard conflict! when calamity and age
+With vigorous youth, unknown to cares, engage!
+Yet, fearful of disgrace, to try the day
+Imperious hunger bids, and I obey;
+But swear, impartial arbiters of right,
+Swear to stand neutral, while we cope in fight.”
+
+The peers assent: when straight his sacred head
+Telemachus upraised, and sternly said:
+“Stranger, if prompted to chastise the wrong
+Of this bold insolent, confide, be strong!
+The injurious Greek that dares attempt a blow,
+That instant makes Telemachus his foe;
+And these my friends shall guard the sacred ties
+Of hospitality, for they are wise.”
+
+Then, girding his strong loins, the king prepares
+To close in combat, and his body bares;
+Broad spread his shoulders, and his nervous thighs
+By just degrees, like well-turn’d columns, rise
+Ample his chest, his arms are round and long,
+And each strong joint Minerva knits more strong
+(Attendant on her chief): the suitor-crowd
+With wonder gaze, and gazing speak aloud:
+“Irus! alas! shall Irus be no more?
+Black fate impends, and this the avenging hour!
+Gods! how his nerves a matchless strength proclaim,
+Swell o’er his well-strong limbs, and brace his frame!”
+
+Then pale with fears, and sickening at the sight;
+They dragg’d the unwilling Irus to the fight;
+From his blank visage fled the coward blood,
+And his flesh trembled as aghast he stood.
+
+“O that such baseness should disgrace the light?
+O hide it, death, in everlasting night!
+(Exclaims Antinous;) can a vigorous foe
+Meanly decline to combat age and woe?
+But hear me wretch! if recreant in the fray
+That huge bulk yield this ill-contested day,
+Instant thou sail’st, to Eschetus resign’d;
+A tyrant, fiercest of the tyrant kind,
+Who casts thy mangled ears and nose a prey
+To hungry dogs, and lops the man away.”
+
+While with indignant scorn he sternly spoke,
+In every joint the trembling Irus shook.
+Now front to front each frowning champion stands,
+And poises high in air his adverse hands.
+The chief yet doubts, or to the shades below
+To fell the giant at one vengeful blow,
+Or save his life, and soon his life to save
+The king resolves, for mercy sways the brave
+That instant Irus his huge arm extends,
+Full on his shoulder the rude weight descends;
+The sage Ulysses, fearful to disclose
+The hero latent in the man of woes,
+Check’d half his might; yet rising to the stroke,
+His jawbone dash’d, the crashing jawbone broke:
+Down dropp’d he stupid from the stunning wound;
+His feet extended quivering, beat the ground;
+His mouth and nostrils spout a purple flood;
+His teeth, all shatter’d, rush inmix’d with blood.
+
+The peers transported, as outstretch’d he lies,
+With bursts of laughter rend the vaulted skies;
+Then dragg’d along, all bleeding from the wound,
+His length of carcase trailing prints the ground:
+Raised on his feet, again he reels, he falls,
+Till propp’d, reclining on the palace walls:
+Then to his hand a staff the victor gave,
+And thus with just reproach address’d the slave:
+“There terrible, affright with dogs, and reign
+A dreaded tyrant o’er the bestial train!
+But mercy to the poor and stranger show,
+Lest Heaven in vengeance send some mightier woe.”
+
+Scornful he spoke, and o’er his shoulder flung
+The broad-patch’d scrip in tatters hung
+Ill join’d, and knotted to a twisted thong.
+Then, turning short, disdain’d a further stay;
+But to the palace measured back the way.
+There, as he rested gathering in a ring,
+The peers with smiles address’d their unknown king:
+“Stranger, may Jove and all the aërial powers
+With every blessing crown thy happy hours!
+Our freedom to thy prowess’d arm we owe
+From bold intrusion of thy coward foe:
+Instant the flying sail the slave shall wing
+To Eschetus, the monster of a king.”
+
+While pleased he hears, Antinous bears the food,
+A kid’s well-fatted entrails, rich with blood;
+The bread from canisters of shining mould
+Amphinomus; and wines that laugh in gold:
+“And oh! (he mildly cries) may Heaven display
+A beam of glory o’er thy future day!
+Alas, the brave too oft is doom’d to bear
+The gripes of poverty and stings of care.”
+
+To whom with thought mature the king replies:
+“The tongue speaks wisely, when the soul is wise:
+Such was thy father! in imperial state,
+Great without vice, that oft attends the great;
+Nor from the sire art thou, the son, declin’d;
+Then hear my words, and grace them in thy mind!
+Of all that breathes, or grovelling creeps on earth,
+Most vain is man! calamitous by birth:
+To-day, with power elate, in strength he blooms;
+The haughty creature on that power presumes:
+Anon from Heaven a sad reverse he feels:
+Untaught to bear, ’gainst Heaven the wretch rebels.
+For man is changeful, as his bliss or woe!
+Too high when prosperous, when distress’d too low.
+There was a day, when with the scornful great
+I swell’d in pomp and arrogance of state;
+Proud of the power that to high birth belongs;
+And used that power to justify my wrongs.
+Then let not man be proud; but firm of mind,
+Bear the best humbly; and the worst resign’d;
+Be dumb when Heaven afflicts! unlike yon train
+Of haughty spoilers, insolently vain;
+Who make their queen and all her wealth a prey:
+But vengeance and Ulysses wing their way.
+O may’st thou, favour’d by some guardian power,
+Far, far be distant in that deathful hour!
+For sure I am, if stern Ulysses breathe,
+These lawless riots end in blood and death.”
+
+Then to the gods the rosy juice he pours,
+And the drain’d goblet to the chief restores.
+Stung to the soul, o’ercast with holy dread,
+He shook the graceful honours of his head;
+His boding mind the future woe forestalls,
+In vain! by great Telemachus he falls,
+For Pallas seals his doom: all sad he turns
+To join the peers; resumes his throne, and mourns.
+
+Meanwhile Minerva with instinctive fires
+Thy soul, Penelope, from Heaven inspires;
+With flattering hopes the suitors to betray,
+And seem to meet, yet fly, the bridal day:
+Thy husband’s wonder, and thy son’s to raise;
+And crown the mother and the wife with praise.
+Then, while the streaming sorrow dims her eyes,
+Thus, with a transient smile, the matron cries:
+
+“Eurynome! to go where riot reigns
+I feel an impulse, though my soul disdains;
+To my loved son the snares of death to show,
+And in the traitor friend, unmask the foe;
+Who, smooth of tongue, in purpose insincere,
+Hides fraud in smiles, while death is ambush’d there.”
+
+“Go, warn thy son, nor be the warning vain
+(Replied the sagest of the royal train);
+But bathed, anointed, and adorn’d, descend;
+Powerful of charms, bid every grace attend;
+The tide of flowing tears awhile suppress;
+Tears but indulge the sorrow, not repress.
+Some joy remains: to thee a son is given,
+Such as, in fondness, parents ask of Heaven.”
+
+“Ah me! forbear!” returns the queen, “forbear,
+Oh! talk not, talk not of vain beauty’s care;
+No more I bathe, since he no longer sees
+Those charms, for whom alone I wish to please.
+The day that bore Ulysses from this coast
+Blasted the little bloom these cheeks could boast.
+But instant bid Autonoe descend,
+Instant Hippodame our steps attend;
+Ill suits it female virtue, to be seen
+Alone, indecent, in the walks of men.”
+
+Then while Eurynome the mandate bears,
+From heaven Minerva shoots with guardian cares;
+O’er all her senses, as the couch she press’d,
+She pours, a pleasing, deep and death-like rest,
+With every beauty every feature arms,
+Bids her cheeks glow, and lights up all her charms;
+In her love-darting eyes awakes the fires
+(Immortal gifts! to kindle soft desires);
+From limb to limb an air majestic sheds,
+And the pure ivory o’er her bosom spreads.
+Such Venus shines, when with a measured bound
+She smoothly gliding swims the harmonious round,
+When with the Graces in the dance she moves,
+And fires the gazing gods with ardent loves.
+
+Then to the skies her flight Minerva bends,
+And to the queen the damsel train descends;
+Waked at their steps, her flowing eyes unclose;
+The tears she wipes, and thus renews her woes:
+“Howe’er ’tis well that sleep awhile can free,
+With soft forgetfulness a wretch like me;
+Oh! were it given to yield this transient breath,
+Send, O Diana! send the sleep of death!
+Why must I waste a tedious life in tears,
+Nor bury in the silent grave my cares?
+O my Ulysses! ever honour’d name!
+For thee I mourn till death dissolves my frame.”
+
+Thus wailing, slow and sadly she descends,
+On either band a damsel train attends:
+Full where the dome its shining valves expands,
+Radiant before the gazing peers she stands;
+A veil translucent o’er her brow display’d,
+Her beauty seems, and only seems, to shade:
+Sudden she lightens in their dazzled eyes,
+And sudden flames in every bosom rise;
+They send their eager souls with every look.
+Till silence thus the imperial matron broke:
+
+“O why! my son, why now no more appears
+That warmth of soul that urged thy younger years?
+Thy riper days no growing worth impart,
+A man in stature, still a boy in heart!
+Thy well-knit frame unprofitably strong,
+Speaks thee a hero, from a hero sprung:
+But the just gods in vain those gifts bestow,
+O wise alone in form, and grave in show!
+Heavens! could a stranger feel oppression’s hand
+Beneath thy roof, and couldst thou tamely stand!
+If thou the stranger’s righteous cause decline
+His is the sufferance, but the shame is thine.”
+
+To whom, with filial awe, the prince returns:
+“That generous soul with just resentment burns;
+Yet, taught by time, my heart has learn’d to glow
+For others’ good, and melt at others’ woe;
+But, impotent those riots to repel,
+I bear their outrage, though my soul rebel;
+Helpless amid the snares of death I tread,
+And numbers leagued in impious union dread;
+But now no crime is theirs: this wrong proceeds
+From Irus, and the guilty Irus bleeds.
+Oh would to Jove! or her whose arms display
+The shield of Jove, or him who rules the day!
+That yon proud suitors, who licentious tread
+These courts, within these courts like Irus bled:
+Whose loose head tottering, as with wine oppress’d,
+Obliquely drops, and nodding knocks his breast;
+Powerless to move, his staggering feet deny
+The coward wretch the privilege to fly.”
+
+Then to the queen Eurymachus replies:
+“O justly loved, and not more fair than wise!
+Should Greece through all her hundred states survey
+Thy finish’d charms, all Greece would own thy sway
+In rival crowds contest the glorious prize.
+Dispeopling realms to gaze upon thy eyes:
+O woman! loveliest of the lovely kind,
+In body perfect, and complete in mind.”
+
+“Ah me! (returns the queen) when from this shore
+Ulysses sail’d, then beauty was no more!
+The gods decreed these eyes no more should keep
+Their wonted grace, but only serve to weep.
+Should he return, whate’er my beauties prove,
+My virtues last; my brightest charm is love.
+Now, grief, thou all art mine! the gods o’ercast
+My soul with woes, that long, ah long must last!
+Too faithfully my heart retains the day
+That sadly tore my royal lord away:
+He grasp’d my hand, and, ‘O, my spouse! I leave
+Thy arms (he cried), perhaps to find a grave:
+Fame speaks the Trojans bold; they boast the skill
+To give the feather’d arrow wings to kill,
+To dart the spear, and guide the rushing car
+With dreadful inroad through the walks of war.
+My sentence is gone forth, and ’tis decreed
+Perhaps by righteous Heaven that I must bleed!
+My father, mother, all I trust to three;
+To them, to them, transfer the love of me:
+But, when my son grows man, the royal sway
+Resign, and happy be thy bridal day!’
+Such were his words; and Hymen now prepares
+To light his torch, and give me up to cares;
+The afflictive hand of wrathful Jove to bear:
+A wretch the most complete that breathes the air!
+Fall’n e’en below the rights to woman due!
+Careless to please, with insolence ye woo!
+The generous lovers, studious to succeed,
+Bid their whole herds and flocks in banquets bleed;
+By precious gifts the vow sincere display:
+You, only you, make her ye love your prey.”
+
+Well-pleased Ulysses hears his queen deceive
+The suitor-train, and raise a thirst to give:
+False hopes she kindles, but those hopes betray,
+And promise, yet elude, the bridal day.
+
+While yet she speaks, the gay Antinous cries:
+“Offspring of kings, and more than woman wise!
+’Tis right; ’tis man’s prerogative to give,
+And custom bids thee without shame receive;
+Yet never, never, from thy dome we move,
+Till Hymen lights the torch of spousal love.”
+
+The peers despatch’d their heralds to convey
+The gifts of love; with speed they take the way.
+A robe Antinous gives of shining dyes,
+The varying hues in gay confusion rise
+Rich from the artist’s hand! Twelve clasps of gold
+Close to the lessening waist the vest infold!
+Down from the swelling loins the vest unbound
+Floats in bright waves redundant o’er the ground,
+A bracelet rich with gold, with amber gay,
+That shot effulgence like the solar ray,
+Eurymachus presents: and ear-rings bright,
+With triple stars, that cast a trembling light.
+Pisander bears a necklace wrought with art:
+And every peer, expressive of his heart,
+A gift bestows: this done, the queen ascends,
+And slow behind her damsel train attends.
+
+Then to the dance they form the vocal strain,
+Till Hesperus leads forth the starry train;
+And now he raises, as the daylight fades,
+His golden circlet in the deepening shades:
+Three vases heap’d with copious fires display
+O’er all the palace a fictitious day;
+From space to space the torch wide-beaming burns,
+And sprightly damsels trim the rays by turns.
+
+To whom the king: “Ill suits your sex to stay
+Alone with men! ye modest maids, away!
+Go, with the queen; the spindle guide; or cull
+(The partners of her cares) the silver wool;
+Be it my task the torches to supply
+E’en till the morning lamp adorns the sky;
+E’en till the morning, with unwearied care,
+Sleepless I watch; for I have learn’d to bear.”
+
+Scornful they heard: Melantho, fair and young,
+(Melantho, from the loins of Dolius sprung,
+Who with the queen her years an infant led,
+With the soft fondness of a daughter bred,)
+Chiefly derides: regardless of the cares
+Her queen endures, polluted joys she shares
+Nocturnal with Eurymachus: with eyes
+That speak disdain, the wanton thus replies:
+“Oh! whither wanders thy distemper’d brain,
+Thou bold intruder on a princely train?
+Hence, to the vagrants’ rendezvous repair;
+Or shun in some black forge the midnight air.
+Proceeds this boldness from a turn of soul,
+Or flows licentious from the copious bowl?
+Is it that vanquish’d Irus swells thy mind?
+A foe may meet thee of a braver kind,
+Who, shortening with a storm of blows thy stay,
+Shall send thee howling all in blood away!”
+
+To whom with frowns: “O impudent in wrong!
+Thy lord shall curb that insolence of tongue;
+Know, to Telemachus I tell the offence;
+The scourge, the scourge shall lash thee into sense.”
+
+With conscious shame they hear the stern rebuke,
+Nor longer durst sustain the sovereign look.
+
+Then to the servile task the monarch turns
+His royal hands: each torch refulgent burns
+With added day: meanwhile in museful mood,
+Absorb’d in thought, on vengeance fix’d he stood.
+And now the martial maid, by deeper wrongs
+To rouse Ulysses, points the suitors’ tongues:
+Scornful of age, to taunt the virtuous man,
+Thoughtless and gay, Eurymachus began:
+
+“Hear me (he cries), confederates and friends!
+Some god, no doubt, this stranger kindly sends;
+The shining baldness of his head survey,
+It aids our torchlight, and reflects the ray.”
+
+Then to the king that levell’d haughty Troy:
+“Say, if large hire can tempt thee to employ
+Those hands in work; to tend the rural trade,
+To dress the walk, and form the embowering shade.
+So food and raiment constant will I give:
+But idly thus thy soul prefers to live,
+And starve by strolling, not by work to thrive.”
+
+To whom incensed: “Should we, O prince, engage
+In rival tasks beneath the burning rage
+Of summer suns; were both constrain’d to wield
+Foodless the scythe along the burden’d field;
+Or should we labour while the ploughshare wounds,
+With steers of equal strength, the allotted grounds,
+Beneath my labours, how thy wondering eyes
+Might see the sable field at once arise!
+Should Jove dire war unloose, with spear and shield,
+And nodding helm, I tread the ensanguined field,
+Fierce in the van: then wouldst thou, wouldst thou,—say,—
+Misname me glutton, in that glorious day?
+No, thy ill-judging thoughts the brave disgrace
+’Tis thou injurious art, not I am base.
+Proud to seem brave among a coward train!
+But now, thou art not valorous, but vain.
+God! should the stern Ulysses rise in might,
+These gates would seem too narrow for thy flight.”
+
+While yet he speaks, Eurymachus replies,
+With indignation flashing from his eyes:
+
+“Slave, I with justice might deserve the wrong,
+Should I not punish that opprobrious tongue.
+Irreverent to the great, and uncontroll’d,
+Art thou from wine, or innate folly, bold?
+Perhaps these outrages from Irus flow,
+A worthless triumph o’er a worthless foe!”
+
+He said, and with full force a footstool threw;
+Whirl’d from his arm, with erring rage it flew:
+Ulysses, cautious of the vengeful foe,
+Stoops to the ground, and disappoints the blow.
+Not so a youth, who deals the goblet round,
+Full on his shoulder it inflicts a wound;
+Dash’d from his hand the sounding goblet flies,
+He shrieks, he reels, he falls, and breathless lies.
+Then wild uproar and clamour mount the sky,
+Till mutual thus the peers indignant cry:
+“Oh had this stranger sunk to realms beneath,
+To the black realms of darkness and of death,
+Ere yet he trod these shores! to strife he draws
+Peer against peer; and what the weighty cause?
+A vagabond! for him the great destroy,
+In vile ignoble jars, the feast of joy.”
+
+To whom the stern Telemachus uprose;
+“Gods! what wild folly from the goblet flows!
+Whence this unguarded openness of soul,
+But from the license of the copious bowl?
+Or Heaven delusion sends: but hence away!
+Force I forbear, and without force obey.”
+
+Silent, abash’d, they hear the stern rebuke,
+Till thus Amphinomus the silence broke:
+
+“True are his words, and he whom truth offends,
+Not with Telemachus, but truth contends;
+Let not the hand of violence invade
+The reverend stranger, or the spotless maid;
+Retire we hence, but crown with rosy wine
+The flowing goblet to the powers divine!
+Guard he his guest beneath whose roof he stands:
+This justice, this the social rite demands.”
+
+The peers assent: the goblet Mulius crown’d
+With purple juice, and bore in order round:
+Each peer successive his libation pours
+To the blest gods who fill’d the ethereal bowers:
+Then swill’d with wine, with noise the crowds obey,
+And rushing forth, tumultuous reel away.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XIX.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE DISCOVERY OF ULYSSES TO EURYCLEA.
+
+
+Ulysses and his son remove the weapons out of the armoury. Ulysses, in
+conversation with Penelope, gives a fictitious account of his
+adventures; then assures her he had formerly entertained her husband in
+Crete; and describes exactly his person and dress; affirms to have
+heard of him in Phæacia and Thesprotia, and that his return is
+certain, and within a month. He then goes to bathe, and is attended by
+Euryclea, who discovers him to be Ulysses by the scar upon his leg,
+which he formerly received in hunting the wild boar on Parnassus. The
+poet inserts a digression relating that accident, with all its
+particulars.
+
+
+Consulting secret with the blue-eyed maid,
+Still in the dome divine Ulysses stay’d:
+Revenge mature for act inflamed his breast;
+And thus the son the fervent sire address’d:
+
+“Instant convey those steely stores of war
+To distant rooms, disposed with secret care:
+The cause demanded by the suitor-train,
+To soothe their fears, a specious reason feign:
+Say, since Ulysses left his natal coast,
+Obscene with smoke, their beamy lustre lost,
+His arms deform the roof they wont adorn:
+From the glad walls inglorious lumber torn.
+Suggest, that Jove the peaceful thought inspired,
+Lest they, by sight of swords to fury fired,
+Dishonest wounds, or violence of soul,
+Defame the bridal feast and friendly bowl.”
+
+The prince, obedient to the sage command,
+To Euryclea thus: “The female band
+In their apartments keep; secure the doors;
+These swarthy arms among the covert stores
+Are seemlier hid; my thoughtless youth they blame,
+Imbrown’d with vapour of the smouldering flame.”
+
+“In happier hour (pleased Euryclea cries),
+Tutour’d by early woes, grow early wise;
+Inspect with sharpen’d sight, and frugal care,
+Your patrimonial wealth, a prudent heir.
+But who the lighted taper will provide
+(The female train retired) your toils to guide?”
+
+“Without infringing hospitable right,
+This guest (he cried) shall bear the guiding light:
+I cheer no lazy vagrants with repast;
+They share the meal that earn it ere they taste.”
+
+He said: from female ken she straight secures
+The purposed deed, and guards the bolted doors:
+Auxiliar to his son, Ulysses bears
+The plumy-crested helms and pointed spears,
+With shields indented deep in glorious wars.
+Minerva viewless on her charge attends,
+And with her golden lamp his toil befriends.
+Not such the sickly beams, which unsincere
+Gild the gross vapour of this nether sphere!
+A present deity the prince confess’d,
+And wrapp’d with ecstasy the sire address’d:
+
+“What miracle thus dazzles with surprise!
+Distinct in rows the radiant columns rise;
+The walls, where’er my wondering sight I turn,
+And roofs, amidst a blaze of glory burn!
+Some visitant of pure ethereal race
+With his bright presence deigns the dome to grace.”
+
+“Be calm (replies the sire); to none impart,
+But oft revolve the vision in thy heart:
+Celestials, mantled in excess of light,
+Can visit unapproach’d by mortal sight.
+Seek thou repose: whilst here I sole remain,
+To explore the conduct of the female train:
+The pensive queen, perchance, desires to know
+The series of my toils, to soothe her woe.”
+
+With tapers flaming day his train attends,
+His bright alcove the obsequious youth ascends:
+Soft slumberous shades his drooping eyelids close,
+Till on her eastern throne Aurora glows.
+
+Whilst, forming plans of death, Ulysses stay’d,
+In counsel secret with the martial maid,
+Attendant nymphs in beauteous order wait
+The queen, descending from her bower of state.
+Her cheeks the warmer blush of Venus wear,
+Chasten’d with coy Diana’s pensive air.
+An ivory seat with silver ringlets graced,
+By famed Icmalius wrought, the menials placed:
+With ivory silver’d thick the footstool shone,
+O’er which the panther’s various hide was thrown.
+The sovereign seat with graceful air she press’d;
+To different tasks their toil the nymphs address’d:
+The golden goblets some, and some restored
+From stains of luxury the polish’d board:
+These to remove the expiring embers came,
+While those with unctuous fir foment the flame.
+
+’Twas then Melantho with imperious mien
+Renew’d the attack, incontinent of spleen:
+“Avaunt (she cried), offensive to my sight!
+Deem not in ambush here to lurk by night,
+Into the woman-state asquint to pry;
+A day-devourer, and an evening spy!
+Vagrant, begone! before this blazing brand
+Shall urge”—and waved it hissing in her hand.
+
+The insulted hero rolls his wrathful eyes
+And “Why so turbulent of soul? (he cries;)
+Can these lean shrivell’d limbs, unnerved with age,
+These poor but honest rags, enkindle rage?
+In crowds, we wear the badge of hungry fate:
+And beg, degraded from superior state!
+Constrain’d a rent-charge on the rich I live;
+Reduced to crave the good I once could give:
+A palace, wealth, and slaves, I late possess’d,
+And all that makes the great be call’d the bless’d:
+My gate, an emblem of my open soul,
+Embraced the poor, and dealt a bounteous dole.
+Scorn not the sad reverse, injurious maid!
+’Tis Jove’s high will, and be his will obey’d!
+Nor think thyself exempt: that rosy prime
+Must share the general doom of withering time:
+To some new channel soon the changeful tide
+Of royal grace the offended queen may guide;
+And her loved lord unplume thy towering pride.
+Or, were he dead, ’tis wisdom to beware:
+Sweet blooms the prince beneath Apollo’s care;
+Your deeds with quick impartial eye surveys,
+Potent to punish what he cannot praise.”
+
+Her keen reproach had reach’d the sovereign’s ear:
+“Loquacious insolent! (she cries,) forbear;
+To thee the purpose of my soul I told;
+Venial discourse, unblamed, with him to hold;
+The storied labours of my wandering lord,
+To soothe my grief he haply may record:
+Yet him, my guest, thy venom’d rage hath stung;
+Thy head shall pay the forfeit of thy tongue!
+But thou on whom my palace cares depend,
+Eurynome, regard the stranger-friend:
+A seat, soft spread with furry spoils, prepare;
+Due-distant for us both to speak, and hear.”
+
+The menial fair obeys with duteous haste:
+A seat adorn’d with furry spoils she placed:
+Due-distant for discourse the hero sate;
+When thus the sovereign from her chair of state:
+
+“Reveal, obsequious to my first demand,
+Thy name, thy lineage, and thy natal land.”
+
+He thus: “O queen! whose far-resounding fame
+Is bounded only by the starry frame,
+Consummate pattern of imperial sway,
+Whose pious rule a warlike race obey!
+In wavy gold thy summer vales are dress’d;
+Thy autumns bind with copious fruit oppress’d:
+With flocks and herds each grassy plain is stored;
+And fish of every fin thy seas afford:
+Their affluent joys the grateful realms confess;
+And bless the power that still delights to bless,
+Gracious permit this prayer, imperial dame!
+Forbear to know my lineage, or my name:
+Urge not this breast to heave, these eyes to weep;
+In sweet oblivion let my sorrows sleep!
+My woes awaked, will violate your ear,
+And to this gay censorious train appear
+A whiny vapour melting in a tear.”
+
+“Their gifts the gods resumed (the queen rejoin’d),
+Exterior grace, and energy of mind,
+When the dear partner of my nuptial joy,
+Auxiliar troops combined, to conquer Troy.
+My lord’s protecting hand alone would raise
+My drooping verdure, and extend my praise!
+Peers from the distant Samian shore resort:
+Here with Dulichians join’d, besiege the court:
+Zacynthus, green with ever-shady groves,
+And Ithaca, presumptuous, boast their loves:
+Obtruding on my choice a second lord,
+They press the Hymenaean rite abhorr’d.
+Misrule thus mingling with domestic cares,
+I live regardless of my state affairs;
+Receive no stranger-guest, no poor relieve;
+But ever for my lord in secret grieve!—
+This art, instinct by some celestial power,
+I tried, elusive of the bridal hour:
+
+“‘Ye peers, (I cry,) who press to gain a heart,
+Where dead Ulysses claims no future part;
+Rebate your loves, each rival suit suspend,
+Till this funeral web my labours end:
+Cease, till to good Laertes I bequeath
+A pall of state, the ornament of death.
+For when to fate he bows, each Grecian dame
+With just reproach were licensed to defame,
+Should he, long honour’d in supreme command,
+Want the last duties of a daughter’s hand.’
+The fiction pleased; their loves I long elude;
+The night still ravell’d what the day renew’d:
+Three years successful in my heart conceal’d,
+My ineffectual fraud the fourth reveal’d:
+Befriended by my own domestic spies,
+The woof unwrought the suitor-train surprise.
+From nuptial rites they now no more recede,
+And fear forbids to falsify the brede.
+My anxious parents urge a speedy choice,
+And to their suffrage gain the filial voice.
+For rule mature, Telemachus deplores
+His dome dishonour’d, and exhausted stores—
+But, stranger! as thy days seem full of fate,
+Divide discourse, in turn thy birth relate:
+Thy port asserts thee of distinguish’d race;
+No poor unfather’d product of disgrace.”
+
+“Princess! (he cries,) renew’d by your command,
+The dear remembrance of my native land
+Of secret grief unseals the fruitful source;
+Fond tears repeat their long-forgotten course!
+So pays the wretch whom fate constrains to roam,
+The dues of nature to his natal home!—
+But inward on my soul let sorrow prey,
+Your sovereign will my duty bids obey.
+
+“Crete awes the circling waves, a fruitful soil!
+And ninety cities crown the sea-born isle:
+Mix’d with her genuine sons, adopted names
+In various tongues avow their various claims:
+Cydonians, dreadful with the bended yew,
+And bold Pelasgi boast a native’s due:
+The Dorians, plumed amid the files of war,
+Her foodful glebe with fierce Achaians share;
+Cnossus, her capital of high command;
+Where sceptred Minos with impartial hand
+Divided right: each ninth revolving year,
+By Jove received in council to confer.
+His son Deucalion bore successive sway:
+His son, who gave me first to view the day!
+The royal bed an elder issue bless’d,
+Idomeneus whom Ilion fields attest
+Of matchless deeds: untrain’d to martial toil,
+I lived inglorious in my native isle,
+Studious of peace, and Æthon is my name.
+’Twas then to Crete the great Ulysses came.
+For elemental war, and wintry Jove,
+From Malea’s gusty cape his navy drove
+To bright Lucina’s fane; the shelfy coast
+Where loud Amnisus in the deep is lost.
+His vessels moor’d (an incommodious port!)
+The hero speeded to the Cnossian court:
+Ardent the partner of his arms to find,
+In leagues of long commutual friendship join’d.
+Vain hope! ten suns had warm’d the western strand
+Since my brave brother, with his Cretan band,
+Had sail’d for Troy: but to the genial feast
+My honour’d roof received the royal guest:
+Beeves for his train the Cnossian peers assign,
+A public treat, with jars of generous wine.
+Twelve days while Boreas vex’d the aërial space,
+My hospitable dome he deign’d to grace:
+And when the north had ceased the stormy roar,
+He wing’d his voyage to the Phrygian shore.”
+
+Thus the fam’d hero, perfected in wiles,
+With fair similitude of truth beguiles
+The queen’s attentive ear: dissolved in woe,
+From her bright eyes the tears unbounded flow,
+As snows collected on the mountain freeze;
+When milder regions breathe a vernal breeze,
+The fleecy pile obeys the whispering gales,
+Ends in a stream, and murmurs through the vales:
+So, melting with the pleasing tale he told,
+Down her fair cheek the copious torrent roll’d:
+She to her present lord laments him lost,
+And views that object which she wants the most,
+Withering at heart to see the weeping fair,
+His eyes look stern, and cast a gloomy stare;
+Of horn the stiff relentless balls appear,
+Or globes of iron fix’d in either sphere;
+Firm wisdom interdicts the softening tear.
+A speechless interval of grief ensues,
+Till thus the queen the tender theme renews.
+
+“Stranger! that e’er thy hospitable roof
+Ulysses graced, confirm by faithful proof;
+Delineate to my view my warlike lord,
+His form, his habit, and his train record.”
+
+“‘Tis hard (he cries,) to bring to sudden sight
+Ideas that have wing’d their distant flight;
+Rare on the mind those images are traced,
+Whose footsteps twenty winters have defaced:
+But what I can, receive.—In ample mode,
+A robe of military purple flow’d
+O’er all his frame: illustrious on his breast,
+The double-clasping gold the king confess’d.
+In the rich woof a hound, mosaic drawn,
+Bore on full stretch, and seized a dappled fawn;
+Deep in the neck his fangs indent their hold;
+They pant and struggle in the moving gold.
+Fine as a filmy web beneath it shone
+A vest, that dazzled like a cloudless sun:
+The female train who round him throng’d to gaze,
+In silent wonder sigh’d unwilling praise.
+A sabre, when the warrior press’d to part,
+I gave, enamell’d with Vulcanian art:
+A mantle purple-tinged, and radiant vest,
+Dimension’d equal to his size, express’d
+Affection grateful to my honour’d guest.
+A favourite herald in his train I knew,
+His visage solemn, sad of sable hue:
+Short woolly curls o’erfleeced his bending head,
+O’er which a promontory shoulder spread;
+Eurybates; in whose large soul alone
+Ulysses view’d an image of his own.”
+
+His speech the tempest of her grief restored;
+In all he told she recognized her lord:
+But when the storm was spent in plenteous showers,
+A pause inspiriting her languish’d powers,
+“O thou, (she cried,) whom first inclement Fate
+Made welcome to my hospitable gate;
+With all thy wants the name of poor shall end:
+Henceforth live honour’d, my domestic friend!
+The vest much envied on your native coast,
+And regal robe with figured gold emboss’d,
+In happier hours my artful hand employ’d,
+When my loved lord this blissful bower enjoy’d:
+The fall of Troy erroneous and forlorn
+Doom’d to survive, and never to return!”
+
+Then he, with pity touch’d: “O royal dame!
+Your ever-anxious mind, and beauteous frame,
+From the devouring rage of grief reclaim.
+I not the fondness of your soul reprove
+For such a lord! who crown’d your virgin love
+With the dear blessing of a fair increase;
+Himself adorn’d with more than mortal grace:
+Yet while I speak the mighty woe suspend;
+Truth forms my tale; to pleasing truth attend.
+The royal object of your dearest care
+Breathes in no distant clime the vital air:
+In rich Thesprotia, and the nearer bound
+Of Thessaly, his name I heard renown’d:
+Without retinue, to that friendly shore
+Welcomed with gifts of price, a sumless store!
+His sacrilegious train, who dared to prey
+On herds devoted to the god of day,
+Were doom’d by Jove, and Phœbus’ just decree,
+To perish in the rough Trinacrian sea.
+To better fate the blameless chief ordain’d,
+A floating fragment of the wreck regain’d,
+And rode the storm; till, by the billows toss’d,
+He landed on the fair Phæacian coast.
+That race who emulate the life of gods,
+Receive him joyous to their bless’d abodes;
+Large gifts confer, a ready sail command,
+To speed his voyage to the Grecian strand.
+But your wise lord (in whose capacious soul
+High schemes of power in just succession roll)
+His Ithaca refused from favouring Fate,
+Till copious wealth might guard his regal state.
+Phedon the fact affirm’d, whose sovereign sway
+Thesprotian tribes, a duteous race, obey;
+And bade the gods this added truth attest
+(While pure libations crown’d the genial feast),
+That anchor’d in his port the vessels stand,
+To waft the hero to his natal land.
+I for Dulichium urge the watery way,
+But first the Ulyssean wealth survey:
+So rich the value of a store so vast
+Demands the pomp of centuries to waste!
+The darling object of your royal love
+Was journey’d thence to Dodonean Jove;
+By the sure precept of the sylvan shrine,
+To form the conduct of his great design;
+Irresolute of soul, his state to shroud
+In dark disguise, or come, a king avow’d!
+Thus lives your lord; nor longer doom’d to roam;
+Soon will he grace this dear paternal dome.
+By Jove, the source of good, supreme in power!
+By the bless’d genius of this friendly bower!
+I ratify my speech, before the sun
+His annual longitude of heaven shall run;
+When the pale empress of yon starry train
+In the next month renews her faded wane,
+Ulysses will assert his rightful reign.”
+
+“What thanks! what boon! (replied the queen), are due,
+When time shall prove the storied blessing true!
+My lord’s return should fate no more retard,
+Envy shall sicken at thy vast reward.
+But my prophetic fears, alas! presage
+The wounds of Destiny’s relentless rage.
+I long must weep, nor will Ulysses come,
+With royal gifts to send you honour’d home!—
+Your other task, ye menial train forbear:
+Now wash the stranger, and the bed prepare:
+With splendid palls the downy fleece adorn:
+Uprising early with the purple morn.
+His sinews, shrunk with age, and stiff with toil,
+In the warm bath foment with fragrant oil.
+Then with Telemachus the social feast
+Partaking free, my soul invited guest;
+Whoe’er neglects to pay distinction due,
+The breach of hospitable right may rue.
+The vulgar of my sex I most exceed
+In real fame, when most humane my deed;
+And vainly to the praise of queen aspire,
+If, stranger! I permit that mean attire
+Beneath the feastful bower. A narrow space
+Confines the circle of our destin’d race;
+’Tis ours with good the scanty round to grace.
+Those who to cruel wrong their state abuse,
+Dreaded in life the mutter’d curse pursues;
+By death disrobed of all their savage powers,
+Then, licensed rage her hateful prey devours.
+But he whose inborn worth his acts commend,
+Of gentle soul, to human race a friend;
+The wretched he relieves diffuse his fame,
+And distant tongues extol the patron-name.”
+
+“Princess? (he cried) in vain your bounties flow
+On me, confirm’d and obstinate in woe.
+When my loved Crete received my final view,
+And from my weeping eyes her cliffs withdrew;
+These tatter’d weeds (my decent robes resign’d)
+I chose, the livery of a woful mind!
+Nor will my heart-corroding care abate
+With splendid palls, and canopies of state:
+Low-couch’d on earth, the gift of sleep I scorn,
+And catch the glances of the waking morn.
+The delicacy of your courtly train
+To wash a wretched wanderer would disdain;
+But if, in tract of long experience tried,
+And sad similitude of woes allied,
+Some wretch reluctant views aërial light,
+To her mean hand assign the friendly rite.”
+
+Pleased with his wise reply, the queen rejoin’d:
+“Such gentle manners, and so sage a mind,
+In all who graced this hospitable bower
+I ne’er discerned, before this social hour.
+Such servant as your humble choice requires,
+To light received the lord of my desires,
+New from the birth; and with a mother’s hand
+His tender bloom to manly growth sustain’d:
+Of matchless prudence, and a duteous mind;
+Though now to life’s extremest verge declined,
+Of strength superior to the toil design’d—
+Rise, Euryclea! with officious care
+For the poor friend the cleansing bath prepare:
+This debt his correspondent fortunes claim,
+Too like Ulysses, and perhaps the same!
+Thus old with woes my fancy paints him now!
+For age untimely marks the careful brow.”
+
+Instant, obsequious to the mild command,
+Sad Euryclea rose: with trembling hand
+She veils the torrent of her tearful eyes;
+And thus impassion’d to herself replies:
+
+“Son of my love, and monarch of my cares,
+What pangs for thee this wretched bosom bears!
+Are thus by Jove who constant beg his aid
+With pious deed, and pure devotion, paid?
+He never dared defraud the sacred fane
+Of perfect hecatombs in order slain:
+There oft implored his tutelary power,
+Long to protract the sad sepulchral hour;
+That, form’d for empire with paternal care,
+His realm might recognize an equal heir.
+O destined head! The pious vows are lost;
+His God forgets him on a foreign coast!—
+Perhaps, like thee, poor guest! in wanton pride
+The rich insult him, and the young deride!
+Conscious of worth reviled, thy generous mind
+The friendly rite of purity declined;
+My will concurring with my queen’s command,
+Accept the bath from this obsequious hand.
+A strong emotion shakes my anguish’d breast:
+In thy whole form Ulysses seems express’d;
+Of all the wretched harboured on our coast,
+None imaged e’er like thee my master lost.”
+
+Thus half-discover’d through the dark disguise,
+With cool composure feign’d, the chief replies:
+“You join your suffrage to the public vote;
+The same you think have all beholders thought.”
+
+He said: replenish’d from the purest springs,
+The laver straight with busy care she brings:
+In the deep vase, that shone like burnish’d gold,
+The boiling fluid temperates the cold.
+Meantime revolving in his thoughtful mind
+The scar, with which his manly knee was sign’d;
+His face averting from the crackling blaze,
+His shoulders intercept the unfriendly rays:
+Thus cautious in the obscure he hoped to fly
+The curious search of Euryclea’s eye.
+Cautious in vain! nor ceased the dame to find
+This scar with which his manly knee was sign’d.
+
+This on Parnassus (combating the boar)
+With glancing rage the tusky savage tore.
+Attended by his brave maternal race,
+His grandsire sent him to the sylvan chase,
+Autolycus the bold (a mighty name
+For spotless faith and deeds of martial fame:
+Hermes, his patron god, those gifts bestow’d,
+Whose shrine with weanling lambs he wont to load).
+His course to Ithaca this hero sped,
+When the first product of Laertes’ bed
+Was now disclosed to birth: the banquet ends,
+When Euryclea from the queen descends,
+And to his fond embrace the babe commends:
+“Receive (she cries) your royal daughter’s son;
+And name the blessing that your prayers have won.”
+Then thus the hoary chief: “My victor arms
+Have awed the realms around with dire alarms:
+A sure memorial of my dreaded fame
+The boy shall bear; Ulysses be his name!
+And when with filial love the youth shall come
+To view his mother’s soil, my Delphic dome
+With gifts of price shall send him joyous home.”
+Lured with the promised boon, when youthful prime
+Ended in man, his mother’s natal clime
+Ulysses sought; with fond affection dear
+Amphitea’s arms received the royal heir:
+Her ancient lord an equal joy possess’d;
+Instant he bade prepare the genial feast:
+A steer to form the sumptuous banquet bled,
+Whose stately growth five flowery summers fed:
+His sons divide, and roast with artful care
+The limbs; then all the tasteful viands share.
+Nor ceased discourse (the banquet of the soul),
+Till Phœbus wheeling to the western goal
+Resign’d the skies, and night involved the pole.
+Their drooping eyes the slumberous shade oppress’d,
+Sated they rose, and all retired to rest.
+
+Soon as the morn, new-robed in purple light,
+Pierced with her golden shafts the rear of night,
+Ulysses, and his brave maternal race,
+The young Autolyci, essay the chase.
+Parnassus, thick perplex’d with horrid shades,
+With deep-mouth’d hounds the hunter-troop invades;
+What time the sun, from ocean’s peaceful stream,
+Darts o’er the lawn his horizontal beam.
+The pack impatient snuff the tainted gale;
+The thorny wilds the woodmen fierce assail:
+And, foremost of the train, his cornel spear
+Ulysses waved, to rouse the savage war.
+Deep in the rough recesses of the wood,
+A lofty copse, the growth of ages, stood;
+Nor winter’s boreal blast, nor thunderous shower,
+Nor solar ray, could pierce the shady bower.
+With wither’d foliage strew’d, a heapy store!
+The warm pavilion of a dreadful boar.
+Roused by the hounds’ and hunters’ mingling cries,
+The savage from his leafy shelter flies;
+With fiery glare his sanguine eye-balls shine,
+And bristles high impale his horrid chine.
+Young Ithacus advanced, defies the foe,
+Poising his lifted lance in act to throw;
+The savage renders vain the wound decreed,
+And springs impetuous with opponent speed!
+His tusks oblique he aim’d, the knee to gore;
+Aslope they glanced, the sinewy fibres tore,
+And bared the bone; Ulysses undismay’d,
+Soon with redoubled force the wound repaid;
+To the right shoulder-joint the spear applied,
+His further flank with streaming purple dyed:
+On earth he rushed with agonizing pain;
+With joy and vast surprise, the applauding train
+View’d his enormous bulk extended on the plain.
+With bandage firm Ulysses’ knee they bound;
+Then, chanting mystic lays, the closing wound
+Of sacred melody confess’d the force;
+The tides of life regain’d their azure course.
+Then back they led the youth with loud acclaim;
+Autolycus, enamoured with his fame,
+Confirm’d the cure; and from the Delphic dome
+With added gifts return’d him glorious home.
+He safe at Ithaca with joy received,
+Relates the chase, and early praise achieved.
+
+Deep o’er his knee inseam’d remain’d the scar;
+Which noted token of the woodland war
+When Euryclea found, the ablution ceased:
+Down dropp’d the leg, from her slack hand released;
+The mingled fluids from the base redound;
+The vase reclining floats the floor around!
+Smiles dew’d with tears the pleasing strife express’d
+Of grief and joy, alternate in her breast.
+Her fluttering words in melting murmurs died;
+At length abrupt—“My son!—my king!”—she cried.
+His neck with fond embrace infolding fast,
+Full on the queen her raptured eye she cast
+Ardent to speak the monarch safe restored:
+But, studious to conceal her royal lord,
+Minerva fix’d her mind on views remote,
+And from the present bliss abstracts her thought.
+His hand to Euryclea’s mouth applied,
+“Art thou foredoom’d my pest? (the hero cried:)
+Thy milky founts my infant lips have drain’d;
+And have the Fates thy babbling age ordain’d
+To violate the life thy youth sustain’d?
+An exile have I told, with weeping eyes,
+Full twenty annual suns in distant skies;
+At length return’d, some god inspires thy breast
+To know thy king, and here I stand confess’d.
+This heaven-discover’d truth to thee consign’d,
+Reserve the treasure of thy inmost mind:
+Else, if the gods my vengeful arm sustain,
+And prostrate to my sword the suitor-train;
+With their lewd mates, thy undistinguish’d age
+Shall bleed a victim to vindictive rage.”
+
+Then thus rejoin’d the dame, devoid of fear:
+“What words, my son, have passed thy lips severe?
+Deep in my soul the trust shall lodge secured;
+With ribs of steel, and marble heart, immured.
+When Heaven, auspicious to thy right avow’d,
+Shall prostrate to thy sword the suitor-crowd,
+The deeds I’ll blazon of the menial fair;
+The lewd to death devote, the virtuous spare.”
+
+“Thy aid avails me not (the chief replied);
+My own experience shall their doom decide:
+A witness-judge precludes a long appeal:
+Suffice it then thy monarch to conceal.”
+
+He said: obsequious, with redoubled pace,
+She to the fount conveys the exhausted vase:
+The bath renew’d, she ends the pleasing toil
+With plenteous unction of ambrosial oil.
+Adjusting to his limbs the tatter’d vest,
+His former seat received the stranger guest;
+Whom thus with pensive air the queen addressed:
+
+“Though night, dissolving grief in grateful ease,
+Your drooping eyes with soft impression seize;
+Awhile, reluctant to her pleasing force,
+Suspend the restful hour with sweet discourse.
+The day (ne’er brighten’d with a beam of joy!)
+My menials, and domestic cares employ;
+And, unattended by sincere repose,
+The night assists my ever-wakeful woes;
+When nature’s hush’d beneath her brooding shade,
+My echoing griefs the starry vault invade.
+As when the months are clad in flowery green,
+Sad Philomel, in bowery shades unseen,
+To vernal airs attunes her varied strains;
+And Itylus sounds warbling o’er the plains;
+Young Itylus, his parents’ darling joy!
+Whom chance misled the mother to destroy;
+Now doom’d a wakeful bird to wail the beauteous boy.
+So in nocturnal solitude forlorn,
+A sad variety of woes I mourn!
+My mind, reflective, in a thorny maze
+Devious from care to care incessant strays.
+Now, wavering doubt succeeds to long despair;
+Shall I my virgin nuptial vow revere;
+And, joining to my son’s my menial train,
+Partake his counsels, and assist his reign?
+Or, since, mature in manhood, he deplores
+His dome dishonour’d, and exhausted stores;
+Shall I, reluctant! to his will accord;
+And from the peers select the noblest lord;
+So by my choice avow’d, at length decide
+These wasteful love-debates, a mourning bride!
+A visionary thought I’ll now relate;
+Illustrate, if you know, the shadow’d fate:
+
+“A team of twenty geese (a snow-white train!)
+Fed near the limpid lake with golden grain,
+Amuse my pensive hours. The bird of Jove
+Fierce from his mountain-eyrie downward drove;
+Each favourite fowl he pounced with deathful sway,
+And back triumphant wing’d his airy way.
+My pitying eyes effused a plenteous stream,
+To view their death thus imaged in a dream;
+With tender sympathy to soothe my soul,
+A troop of matrons, fancy-form’d, condole.
+But whilst with grief and rage my bosom burn’d,
+Sudden the tyrant of the skies returned;
+Perch’d on the battlements he thus began
+(In form an eagle, but in voice a man):
+`O queen! no vulgar vision of the sky
+I come, prophetic of approaching joy;
+View in this plumy form thy victor-lord;
+The geese (a glutton race) by thee deplored,
+Portend the suitors fated to my sword.’
+This said, the pleasing feather’d omen ceased.
+When from the downy bands of sleep released,
+Fast by the limpid lake my swan-like train
+I found, insatiate of the golden grain.”
+
+“The vision self-explain’d (the chief replies)
+Sincere reveals the sanction of the skies;
+Ulysses speaks his own return decreed;
+And by his sword the suitors sure to bleed.”
+
+“Hard is the task, and rare,” (the queen rejoin’d,)
+Impending destinies in dreams to find;
+Immured within the silent bower of sleep,
+Two portals firm the various phantoms keep;
+Of ivory one; whence flit, to mock the brain,
+Of winged lies a light fantastic train;
+The gate opposed pellucid valves adorn,
+And columns fair incased with polish’d horn;
+Where images of truth for passage wait,
+With visions manifest of future fate.
+Not to this troop, I fear, that phantom soar’d,
+Which spoke Ulysses to this realm restored;
+Delusive semblance!-but my remnant life
+Heaven shall determine in a gameful strife;
+With that famed bow Ulysses taught to bend,
+For me the rival archers shall contend.
+As on the listed field he used to place
+Six beams, opposed to six in equal space;
+Elanced afar by his unerring art,
+Sure through six circlets flew the whizzing dart.
+So, when the sun restores the purple day,
+Their strength and skill the suitors shall assay;
+To him the spousal honour is decreed,
+Who through the rings directs the feather’d reed.
+Torn from these walls (where long the kinder powers
+With joy and pomp have wing’d my youthful hours!)
+On this poor breast no dawn of bliss shall beam;
+The pleasure past supplies a copious theme
+For many a dreary thought, and many a doleful dream!”
+
+“Propose the sportive lot (the chief replies),
+Nor dread to name yourself the bowyer’s prize;
+Ulysses will surprise the unfinish’d game,
+Avow’d, and falsify the suitors’ claim.”
+
+To whom with grace serene the queen rejoin’d:
+“In all thy speech what pleasing force I find!
+O’er my suspended woe thy words prevail;
+I part reluctant from the pleasing tale,
+But Heaven, that knows what all terrestrials need,
+Repose to night, and toil to day decreed;
+Grateful vicissitudes! yet me withdrawn,
+Wakeful to weep and watch the tardy dawn
+Establish’d use enjoins; to rest and joy
+Estranged, since dear Ulysses sail’d to Troy!
+Meantime instructed is the menial tribe
+Your couch to fashion as yourself prescribe.”
+
+Thus affable, her bower the queen ascends;
+The sovereign step a beauteous train attends;
+There imaged to her soul Ulysses rose;
+Down her pale cheek new-streaming sorrow flows;
+Till soft oblivious shade Minerva spread,
+And o’er her eyes ambrosial slumber shed.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XX.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+
+While Ulysses lies in the vestibule of the palace, he is witness to the
+disorders of the women. Minerva comforts him, and casts him asleep. At
+his waking he desires a favourable sign from Jupiter, which is granted.
+The feast of Apollo is celebrated by the people, and the suitors
+banquet in the palace. Telemachus exerts his authority amongst them;
+notwithstanding which, Ulysses is insulted by Caesippus, and the rest
+continue in their excesses. Strange prodigies are seen by Theoclymenus,
+the augur, who explains them to the destruction of the wooers.
+
+
+An ample hide devine Ulysses spread.
+And form’d of fleecy skins his humble bed
+(The remnants of the spoil the suitor-crowd
+In festival devour’d, and victims vow’d).
+Then o’er the chief, Eurynome the chaste
+With duteous care a downy carpet cast:
+With dire revenge his thoughtful bosom glows,
+And, ruminating wrath, he scorns repose.
+
+As thus pavilion’d in the porch he lay,
+Scenes of lewd loves his wakeful eyes survey,
+Whilst to nocturnal joys impure repair,
+With wanton glee, the prostituted fair.
+His heart with rage this new dishonour stung,
+Wavering his thoughts in dubious balance hung:
+Or instant should he quench the guilty flame
+With their own blood, and intercept the shame:
+Or to their lust indulge a last embrace,
+And let the peers consummate the disgrace
+Round his swoln heart the murmurous fury rolls,
+As o’er her young the mother-mastiff growls,
+And bays the stranger groom: so wrath compress’d,
+Recoiling, mutter’d thunder in his breast.
+“Poor suffering heart! (he cried,) support the pain
+Of wounded honour, and thy rage restrain.
+Not fiercer woes thy fortitude could foil,
+When the brave partners of thy ten years’ toil
+Dire Polypheme devour’d; I then was freed
+By patient prudence from the death decreed.”
+
+Thus anchor’d safe on reason’s peaceful coast,
+Tempests of wrath his soul no longer toss’d;
+Restless his body rolls, to rage resign’d
+As one who long with pale-eyed famine pined,
+The savoury cates on glowing embers cast
+Incessant turns, impatient for repast
+Ulysses so, from side to side-devolved,
+In self-debate the suitor’s doom resolved
+When in the form of mortal nymph array’d,
+From heaven descends the Jove-born martial maid;
+And hovering o’er his head in view confess’d,
+The goddess thus her favourite care address’d:
+
+“O thou, of mortals most inured to woes!
+Why roll those eyes unfriended of repose?
+Beneath thy palace-roof forget thy care;
+Bless’d in thy queen! bless’d in thy blooming heir!
+Whom, to the gods when suppliant fathers bow
+They name the standard of their dearest vow.”
+
+“Just is thy kind reproach (the chief rejoin’d),
+Deeds full of fate distract my various mind,
+In contemplation wrapp’d. This hostile crew
+What single arm hath prowess to subdue?
+Or if, by Jove’s and thy auxiliar aid,
+They’re doom’d to bleed; O say, celestial maid!
+Where shall Ulysses shun, or how sustain
+Nations embattled to revenge the slain?”
+
+“Oh impotence of faith! (Minerva cries,)
+If man on frail unknowing man relies,
+Doubt you the gods? Lo, Pallas self descends,
+Inspires thy counsels, and thy toils attends.
+In me affianced, fortify thy breast,
+Though myriads leagued thy rightful claim contest
+My sure divinity shall bear the shield,
+And edge thy sword to reap the glorious field.
+Now, pay the debt to craving nature due,
+Her faded powers with balmy rest renew.”
+She ceased, ambrosial slumbers seal his eyes;
+Her care dissolves in visionary joys
+The goddess, pleased, regains her natal skies.
+
+Not so the queen; the downy bands of sleep
+By grief relax’d she waked again to weep:
+A gloomy pause ensued of dumb despair;
+Then thus her fate invoked, with fervent prayer
+
+“Diana! speed thy deathful ebon dart,
+And cure the pangs of this convulsive heart.
+Snatch me, ye whirlwinds! far from human race,
+Toss’d through the void illimitable space
+Or if dismounted from the rapid cloud,
+Me with his whelming wave let Ocean shroud!
+So, Pandarus, thy hopes, three orphan fair,
+Were doom’d to wander through the devious air;
+Thyself untimely, and thy consort died,
+But four celestials both your cares supplied.
+Venus in tender delicacy rears
+With honey, milk, and wine their infant years;
+Imperial Juno to their youth assigned
+A form majestic, and sagacious mind;
+With shapely growth Diana graced their bloom;
+And Pallas taught the texture of the loom.
+But whilst, to learn their lots in nuptial love,
+Bright Cytherea sought the bower of Jove
+(The God supreme, to whose eternal eye
+The registers of fate expanded lie);
+Wing’d Harpies snatch the unguarded charge away,
+And to the Furies bore a grateful prey.
+Be such my lot! Or thou, Diana, speed
+Thy shaft, and send me joyful to the dead;
+To seek my lord among the warrior train,
+Ere second vows my bridal faith profane.
+When woes the waking sense alone assail,
+Whilst Night extends her soft oblivious veil,
+Of other wretches’ care the torture ends;
+No truce the warfare of my heart suspends!
+The night renews the day distracting theme,
+And airy terrors sable every dream.
+The last alone a kind illusion wrought,
+And to my bed my loved Ulysses brought,
+In manly bloom, and each majestic grace,
+As when for Troy he left my fond embrace;
+Such raptures in my beating bosom rise,
+I deem it sure a vision of the skies.”
+
+Thus, whilst Aurora mounts her purple throne,
+In audible laments she breathes her moan;
+The sounds assault Ulysses’ wakeful ear;
+Misjudging of the cause, a sudden fear
+Of his arrival known, the chief alarms;
+He thinks the queen is rushing to his arms.
+Upspringing from his couch, with active haste
+The fleece and carpet in the dome he placed
+(The hide, without, imbibed the morning air);
+And thus the gods invoked with ardent prayer:
+
+“Jove, and eternal thrones! with heaven to friend,
+If the long series of my woes shall end;
+Of human race now rising from repose,
+Let one a blissful omen here disclose;
+And, to confirm my faith, propitious Jove!
+Vouchsafe the sanction of a sign above.”
+
+Whilst lowly thus the chief adoring bows,
+The pitying god his guardian aid avows.
+Loud from a sapphire sky his thunder sounds;
+With springing hope the hero’s heart rebounds.
+Soon, with consummate joy to crown his prayer,
+An omen’d voice invades his ravish’d ear.
+Beneath a pile that close the dome adjoin’d,
+Twelve female slaves the gift of Ceres grind;
+Task’d for the royal board to bolt the bran
+From the pure flour (the growth and strength of man)
+Discharging to the day the labour due,
+Now early to repose the rest withdrew;
+One maid unequal to the task assign’d,
+Still turn’d the toilsome mill with anxious mind;
+And thus in bitterness of soul divined:
+
+“Father of gods and men, whose thunders roll
+O’er the cerulean vault, and shake the pole:
+Whoe’er from Heaven has gain’d this rare ostent
+(Of granted vows a certain signal sent),
+In this blest moment of accepted prayer,
+Piteous, regard a wretch consumed with care!
+Instant, O Jove! confound the suitor-train,
+For whom o’ertoil’d I grind the golden grain:
+Far from this dome the lewd devourers cast,
+And be this festival decreed their last!”
+
+Big with their doom denounced in earth and sky,
+Ulysses’ heart dilates with secret joy.
+Meantime the menial train with unctious wood
+Heap’d high the genial hearth, Vulcanian food:
+When, early dress’d, advanced the royal heir;
+With manly grasp he waved a martial spear;
+A radiant sabre graced his purple zone,
+And on his foot the golden sandal shone.
+His steps impetuous to the portal press’d;
+And Euryclea thus he there address’d:
+
+“Say thou to whom my youth its nurture owes,
+Was care for due refection and repose
+Bestow’d the stranger-guest? Or waits he grieved,
+His age not honour’d, nor his wants relieved?
+Promiscuous grace on all the queen confers
+(In woes bewilder’d, oft the wisest errs).
+The wordy vagrant to the dole aspires,
+And modest worth with noble scorn retires.”
+
+She thus: “O cease that ever-honour’d name
+To blemish now: it ill deserves your blame,
+A bowl of generous wine sufficed the guest;
+In vain the queen the night refection press’d;
+Nor would he court repose in downy state,
+Unbless’d, abandon’d to the rage of Fate!
+A hide beneath the portico was spread,
+And fleecy skins composed an humble bed;
+A downy carpet cast with duteous care,
+Secured him from the keen nocturnal air.”
+
+His cornel javelin poised with regal port,
+To the sage Greeks convened in Themis’ court,
+Forth-issuing from the dome the prince repair’d;
+Two dogs of chase, a lion-hearted guard,
+Behind him sourly stalked. Without delay
+The dame divides the labour of the day;
+Thus urging to the toil the menial train;
+
+“What marks of luxury the marble stain
+Its wonted lustre let the floor regain;
+The seats with purple clothe in order due;
+And let the abstersive sponge the board renew;
+Let some refresh the vase’s sullied mould;
+Some bid the goblets boast their native gold;
+Some to the spring, with each a jar, repair,
+And copious waters pure for bathing bear;
+Dispatch! for soon the suitors will essay
+The lunar feast-rites to the god of day.”
+
+She said: with duteous haste a bevy fair
+Of twenty virgins to the spring repair;
+With varied toils the rest adorn the dome.
+Magnificent, and blithe, the suitors come.
+Some wield the sounding axe; the dodder’d oaks
+Divide, obedient to the forceful strokes.
+Soon from the fount, with each a brimming urn
+(Eumaeus in their train), the maids return.
+Three porkers for the feast, all brawny-chined,
+He brought; the choicest of the tusky-kind;
+In lodgments first secure his care he viewed,
+Then to the king this friendly speech renew’d:
+“Now say sincere, my guest! the suitor-train
+Still treat thy worth with lordly dull disdain;
+Or speaks their deed a bounteous mind humane?”
+
+“Some pitying god (Ulysses sad replied)
+With vollied vengeance blast their towering pride!
+No conscious blush, no sense of right, restrains
+The tides of lust that swell the boiling veins;
+From vice to vice their appetites are toss’d,
+All cheaply sated at another’s cost!”
+
+While thus the chief his woes indignant told,
+Melanthius, master of the bearded fold,
+The goodliest goats of all the royal herd
+Spontaneous to the suitors’ feast preferr’d;
+Two grooms assistant bore the victims bound;
+With quavering cries the vaulted roofs resound;
+And to the chief austere aloud began
+The wretch unfriendly to the race of man:
+
+“Here vagrant, still? offensive to my lords!
+Blows have more energy than airy words;
+These arguments I’ll use: nor conscious shame,
+Nor threats, thy bold intrusion will reclaim.
+On this high feast the meanest vulgar boast
+A plenteous board! Hence! seek another host!”
+
+Rejoinder to the churl the king disdain’d,
+But shook his head, and rising wrath restrain’d.
+
+From Cephalenia ’cross the surgy main
+Philaetius late arrived, a faithful swain.
+A steer ungrateful to the bull’s embrace.
+And goats he brought, the pride of all their race;
+Imported in a shallop not his own;
+The dome re-echoed to the mingl’d moan.
+Straight to the guardian of the bristly kind
+He thus began, benevolent of mind:
+
+“What guest is he, of such majestic air?
+His lineage and paternal clime declare:
+Dim through the eclipse of fate, the rays divine
+Of sovereign state with faded splendour shine.
+If monarchs by the gods are plunged in woe,
+To what abyss are we foredoom’d to go!”
+Then affable he thus the chief address’d,
+Whilst with pathetic warmth his hand he press’d:
+
+“Stranger, may fate a milder aspect show,
+And spin thy future with a whiter clue!
+O Jove! for ever deaf to human cries;
+The tyrant, not the father of the skies!
+Unpiteous of the race thy will began!
+The fool of fate, thy manufacture, man,
+With penury, contempt, repulse, and care,
+The galling load of life is doom’d to bear.
+Ulysses from his state a wanderer still,
+Upbraids thy power, thy wisdom, or thy will!
+O monarch ever dear!-O man of woe!
+Fresh flow my tears, and shall for ever flow!
+Like thee, poor stranger guest, denied his home,
+Like thee: in rags obscene decreed to roam!
+Or, haply perish’d on some distant coast,
+In stygian gloom he glides, a pensive ghost!
+Oh, grateful for the good his bounty gave,
+I’ll grieve, till sorrow sink me to the grave!
+His kind protecting hand my youth preferr’d,
+The regent of his Cephalenian herd;
+With vast increase beneath my care it spreads:
+A stately breed! and blackens far the meads.
+Constrain’d, the choicest beeves I thence import,
+To cram these cormorants that crowd his court:
+Who in partition seek his realm to share;
+Nor human right nor wrath divine revere,
+Since here resolved oppressive these reside,
+Contending doubts my anxious heart divide:
+Now to some foreign clime inclined to fly,
+And with the royal herd protection buy;
+Then, happier thoughts return the nodding scale,
+Light mounts despair, alternate hopes prevail:
+In opening prospects of ideal joy,
+My king returns; the proud usurpers die.”
+
+To whom the chief: “In thy capacious mind
+Since daring zeal with cool debate is join’d,
+Attend a deed already ripe in fate:
+Attest, O Jove! the truth I now relate!
+This sacred truth attest, each genial power,
+Who bless the board, and guard this friendly bower!
+Before thou quit the dome (nor long delay)
+Thy wish produced in act, with pleased survey,
+Thy wondering eyes shall view: his rightful reign
+By arms avow’d Ulysses shall regain,
+And to the shades devote the suitor-train.”
+
+“O Jove supreme! (the raptured swain replies,)
+With deeds consummate soon the promised joys!
+These aged nerves, with new-born vigour strung,
+In that blest cause should emulate the young.”
+Assents Eumaeus to the prayer address’d;
+And equal ardours fire his loyal breast.
+
+Meantime the suitors urge the prince’s fate,
+And deathful arts employ the dire debate:
+When in his airy tour, the bird of Jove
+Truss’d with his sinewy pounce a trembling dove;
+Sinister to their hope! This omen eyed
+Amphinomus, who thus presaging cried:
+
+“The gods from force and fraud the prince defend;
+O peers! the sanguinary scheme suspend:
+Your future thought let sable fate employ;
+And give the present hour to genial joy.”
+
+From council straight the assenting peerage ceased,
+And in the dome prepared the genial feast.
+Disrobed, their vests apart in order lay,
+Then all with speed succinct the victims slay:
+With sheep and shaggy goats the porkers bled,
+And the proud steer was on the marble spread.
+With fire prepared, they deal the morsels round,
+Wine, rosy-bright, the brimming goblets crown’d,
+By sage Eumaeus borne; the purple tide
+Melanthius from an ample jar supplied:
+High canisters of bread Philaetius placed;
+And eager all devour the rich repast.
+Disposed apart, Ulysses shares the treat;
+A trivet table, and ignobler seat,
+The prince appoints; but to his sire assigns
+The tasteful inwards, and nectareous wines.
+“Partake, my guest (he cried), without control
+The social feast, and drain the cheering bowl:
+Dread not the railer’s laugh, nor ruffian’s rage;
+No vulgar roof protects thy honour’d age;
+This dome a refuge to thy wrongs shall be,
+From my great sire too soon devolved to me!
+Your violence and scorn, ye suitors, cease,
+Lest arms avenge the violated peace.”
+
+Awed by the prince, so haughty, brave, and young,
+Rage gnaw’d the lip, amazement chain’d the tongue.
+“Be patient, peers! (at length Antinous cries,)
+The threats of vain imperious youth despise:
+Would Jove permit the meditated blow,
+That stream of eloquence should cease to flow.”
+
+Without reply vouchsafed, Antinous ceased:
+Meanwhile the pomp of festival increased:
+By heralds rank’d; in marshall’d order move
+The city tribes, to pleased Apollo’s grove:
+Beneath the verdure of which awful shade,
+The lunar hecatomb they grateful laid;
+Partook the sacred feast, and ritual honours paid.
+But the rich banquet, in the dome prepared
+(An humble sideboard set) Ulysses shared.
+Observant of the prince’s high behest,
+His menial train attend the stranger-guest;
+Whom Pallas with unpardoning fury fired,
+By lordly pride and keen reproach inspired.
+A Samian peer, more studious than the rest
+Of vice, who teem’d with many a dead-born jest;
+And urged, for title to a consort queen,
+Unnumber’d acres arable and green
+(Ctesippus named); this lord Ulysses eyed,
+And thus burst out the imposthumate with pride:
+
+“The sentence I propose, ye peers, attend:
+Since due regard must wait the prince’s friend,
+Let each a token of esteem bestow:
+This gift acquits the dear respect I owe;
+With which he nobly may discharge his seat,
+And pay the menials for a master’s treat.”
+
+He said: and of the steer before him placed,
+That sinewy fragment at Ulysses cast,
+Where to the pastern-bone, by nerves combined,
+The well-horn’d foot indissolubly join’d;
+Which whizzing high, the wall unseemly sign’d.
+The chief indignant grins a ghastly smile;
+Revenge and scorn within his bosom boil:
+When thus the prince with pious rage inflamed:
+“Had not the inglorious wound thy malice aim’d
+Fall’n guiltless of the mark, my certain spear
+Had made thee buy the brutal triumph dear:
+Nor should thy sire a queen his daughter boast;
+The suitor, now, had vanish’d in a ghost:
+No more, ye lewd compeers, with lawless power
+Invade my dome, my herds and flocks devour:
+For genuine worth, of age mature to know,
+My grape shall redden, and my harvest grow
+Or, if each other’s wrongs ye still support,
+With rapes and riot to profane my court;
+What single arm with numbers can contend?
+On me let all your lifted swords descend,
+And with my life such vile dishonours end.”
+
+A long cessation of discourse ensued,
+By gentler Agelaus thus renew’d:
+
+“A just reproof, ye peers! your rage restrain
+From the protected guest, and menial train:
+And, prince! to stop the source of future ill,
+Assent yourself, and gain the royal will.
+Whilst hope prevail’d to see your sire restored,
+Of right the queen refused a second lord:
+But who so vain of faith, so blind to fate,
+To think he still survives to claim the state?
+Now press the sovereign dame with warm desire
+To wed, as wealth or worth her choice inspire:
+The lord selected to the nuptial joys
+Far hence will lead the long-contested prize:
+Whilst in paternal pomp with plenty bless’d,
+You reign, of this imperial dome possess’d.”
+
+Sage and serene Telemachus replies:
+“By him at whose behest the thunder flies,
+And by the name on earth I most revere,
+By great Ulysses and his woes I swear!
+(Who never must review his dear domain;
+Enroll’d, perhaps, in Pluto’s dreary train),
+Whene’er her choice the royal dame avows,
+My bridal gifts shall load the future spouse:
+But from this dome my parent queen to chase!
+From me, ye gods! avert such dire disgrace.”
+
+But Pallas clouds with intellectual gloom
+The suitors’ souls, insensate of their doom!
+A mirthful frenzy seized the fated crowd;
+The roofs resound with causeless laughter loud;
+Floating in gore, portentous to survey!
+In each discolour’d vase the viands lay;
+Then down each cheek the tears spontaneous flow
+And sudden sighs precede approaching woe.
+In vision wrapp’d, the Hyperesian seer
+Uprose, and thus divined the vengeance near:
+
+“O race to death devote! with Stygian shade
+Each destin’d peer impending fates invade;
+With tears your wan distorted cheeks are drown’d;
+With sanguine drops the walls are rubied round:
+Thick swarms the spacious hall with howling ghosts,
+To people Orcus, and the burning coasts!
+Nor gives the sun his golden orb to roll,
+But universal night usurps the pole!”
+
+Yet warn’d in vain, with laughter loud elate
+The peers reproach the sure divine of Fate;
+And thus Eurymachus: “The dotard’s mind
+To every sense is lost, to reason blind;
+Swift from the dome conduct the slave away;
+Let him in open air behold the day.”
+
+“Tax not (the heaven-illumined seer rejoin’d)
+Of rage, or folly, my prophetic mind,
+No clouds of error dim the ethereal rays,
+Her equal power each faithful sense obeys.
+Unguided hence my trembling steps I bend,
+Far hence, before yon hovering deaths descend;
+Lest the ripe harvest of revenge begun,
+I share the doom ye suitors cannot shun.”
+
+This said, to sage Piraeus sped the seer,
+His honour’d host, a welcome inmate there.
+O’er the protracted feast the suitors sit,
+And aim to wound the prince with pointless wit:
+Cries one, with scornful leer and mimic voice,
+“Thy charity we praise, but not thy choice;
+Why such profusion of indulgence shown
+To this poor, timorous, toil-detesting drone?
+That others feeds on planetary schemes,
+And pays his host with hideous noon-day dreams.
+But, prince! for once at least believe a friend;
+To some Sicilian mart these courtiers send,
+Where, if they yield their freight across the main,
+Dear sell the slaves! demand no greater gain.”
+
+Thus jovial they; but nought the prince replies;
+Full on his sire he roll’d his ardent eyes:
+Impatient straight to flesh his virgin-sword;
+From the wise chief he waits the deathful word.
+Nigh in her bright alcove, the pensive queen
+To see the circle sate, of all unseen.
+Sated at length they rise, and bid prepare
+An eve-repast, with equal cost and care:
+But vengeful Pallas, with preventing speed,
+A feast proportion’d to their crimes decreed;
+A feast of death, the feasters doom’d to bleed!
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XXI.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE BENDING OF ULYSSES’ BOW.
+
+
+Penelope, to put an end to the solicitation of the suitors, proposes to
+marry the person who shall first bend the bow of Ulysses, and shoot
+through the ringlets. After their attempts have proved ineffectual,
+Ulysses, taking Eumaeus and Philaetius apart, discovers himself to
+them; then returning, desires leave to try his strength at the bow,
+which, though refused with indignation by the suitors, Penelope and
+Telemachus cause it to be delivered to his hands. He bends it
+immediately, and shoots through all the rings. Jupiter at the same
+instant thunders from heaven; Ulysses accepts the omen, and gives a
+sign to Telemachus, who stands ready armed at his side.
+
+
+And Pallas now, to raise the rivals’ fires,
+With her own art Penelope inspires
+Who now can bend Ulysses’ bow, and wing
+The well-aim’d arrow through the distant ring,
+Shall end the strife, and win the imperial dame:
+But discord and black death await the game!
+
+The prudent queen the lofty stair ascends:
+At distance due a virgin-train attends;
+A brazen key she held, the handle turn’d,
+With steel and polish’d elephant adorn’d:
+Swift to the inmost room she bent her way,
+Where, safe reposed, the royal treasures lay:
+There shone high heap’d the labour’d brass and ore,
+And there the bow which great Ulysses bore;
+And there the quiver, where now guiltless slept
+Those winged deaths that many a matron wept.
+
+This gift, long since when Sparta’s shore he trod,
+On young Ulysses Iphitus bestowed:
+Beneath Orsilochus’ roof they met;
+One loss was private, one a public debt;
+Messena’s state from Ithaca detains
+Three hundred sheep, and all the shepherd swains;
+And to the youthful prince to urge the laws,
+The king and elders trust their common cause.
+But Iphitus, employed on other cares,
+Search’d the wide country for his wandering mares,
+And mules, the strongest of the labouring kind;
+Hapless to search; more hapless still to find!
+For journeying on to Hercules, at length
+That lawless wretch, that man of brutal strength,
+Deaf to Heaven’s voice, the social rites transgress’d;
+And for the beauteous mares destroy’d his guest.
+He gave the bow; and on Ulysses’ part
+Received a pointed sword, and missile dart:
+Of luckless friendship on a foreign shore
+Their first, last pledges! for they met no more.
+The bow, bequeath’d by this unhappy hand,
+Ulysses bore not from his native land;
+Nor in the front of battle taught to bend,
+But kept in dear memorial of his friend.
+
+Now gently winding up the fair ascent,
+By many an easy step the matron went;
+Then o’er the pavement glides with grace divine
+(With polish’d oak the level pavements shine);
+The folding gates a dazzling light display’d,
+With pomp of various architrave o’erlaid.
+The bolt, obedient to the silken string,
+Forsakes the staple as she pulls the ring;
+The wards respondent to the key turn round;
+The bars fall back; the flying valves resound;
+Loud as a bull makes hill and valley ring,
+So roar’d the lock when it released the spring.
+She moves majestic through the wealthy room,
+Where treasured garments cast a rich perfume;
+There from the column where aloft it hung,
+Reach’d in its splendid case, the bow unstrung;
+Across her knees she laid the well-known bow,
+And pensive sate, and tears began to flow.
+To full satiety of grief she mourns,
+Then silent to the joyous hall returns,
+To the proud suitors bears in pensive state
+The unbended bow, and arrows winged with fate.
+
+Behind, her train the polish’d coffer brings,
+Which held the alternate brass and silver rings.
+Full in the portal the chaste queen appears,
+And with her veil conceals the coming tears:
+On either side awaits a virgin fair;
+While thus the matron, with majestic air:
+
+“Say you, when these forbidden walls inclose,
+For whom my victims bleed, my vintage flows:
+If these neglected, faded charms can move?
+Or is it but a vain pretence, you love?
+If I the prize, if me you seek to wife,
+Hear the conditions, and commence the strife.
+Who first Ulysses’ wondrous bow shall bend,
+And through twelve ringlets the fleet arrow send;
+Him will I follow, and forsake my home,
+For him forsake this loved, this wealthy dome,
+Long, long the scene of all my past delight,
+And still to last, the vision of my night!”
+
+Graceful she said, and bade Eumaeus show
+The rival peers the ringlets and the bow.
+From his full eyes the tears unbidden spring,
+Touch’d at the dear memorials of his king.
+Philaetius too relents, but secret shed
+The tender drops. Antinous saw, and said:
+
+“Hence to your fields, ye rustics! hence away,
+Nor stain with grief the pleasures of the day;
+Nor to the royal heart recall in vain
+The sad remembrance of a perish’d man.
+Enough her precious tears already flow—
+Or share the feast with due respect; or go
+To weep abroad, and leave to us the bow,
+No vulgar task! Ill suits this courtly crew
+That stubborn horn which brave Ulysses drew.
+I well remember (for I gazed him o’er
+While yet a child), what majesty he bore!
+And still (all infant as I was) retain
+The port, the strength, the grandeur of the man.”
+
+He said, but in his soul fond joys arise,
+And his proud hopes already win the prize.
+To speed the flying shaft through every ring,
+Wretch! is not thine: the arrows of the king
+Shall end those hopes, and fate is on the wing!
+
+Then thus Telemachus: “Some god I find
+With pleasing frenzy has possess’d my mind;
+When a loved mother threatens to depart,
+Why with this ill-timed gladness leaps my heart?
+Come then, ye suitors! and dispute a prize
+Richer than all the Achaian state supplies,
+Than all proud Argos, or Mycaena knows,
+Than all our isles or continents inclose;
+A woman matchless, and almost divine,
+Fit for the praise of every tongue but mine.
+No more excuses then, no more delay;
+Haste to the trial—Lo! I lead the way.
+
+“I too may try, and if this arm can wing
+The feather’d arrow through the destined ring,
+Then if no happier night the conquest boast,
+I shall not sorrow for a mother lost;
+But, bless’d in her, possess those arms alone,
+Heir of my father’s strength, as well as throne.”
+
+He spoke; then rising, his broad sword unbound,
+And cast his purple garment on the ground.
+A trench he open’d: in a line he placed.
+The level axes, and the points made fast
+(His perfect skill the wondering gazers eyed,
+The game as yet unseen, as yet untried).
+Then, with a manly pace, he took his stand:
+And grasp’d the bow, and twang’d it in his hand.
+Three times, with beating heart, he made essay:
+Three times, unequal to the task, gave way;
+A modest boldness on his cheek appear’d:
+And thrice he hoped, and thrice again he fear’d.
+The fourth had drawn it. The great sire with joy
+Beheld, but with a sign forbade the boy.
+His ardour straight the obedient prince suppress’d,
+And, artful, thus the suitor-train address’d:
+
+“O lay the cause on youth yet immature!
+(For heaven forbid such weakness should endure!)
+How shall this arm, unequal to the bow,
+Retort an insult, or repel a foe?
+But you! whom Heaven with better nerves has bless’d,
+Accept the trial, and the prize contest.”
+
+He cast the bow before him, and apart
+Against the polish’d quiver propp’d the dart.
+Resuming then his seat, Eupithes’ son,
+The bold Antinous, to the rest begun:
+“From where the goblet first begins to flow,
+From right to left in order take the bow;
+And prove your several strengths.” The princes heard
+And first Leiodes, blameless priest, appear’d:
+The eldest born of Œnops’ noble race,
+Who next the goblet held his holy place:
+He, only he, of all the suitor throng,
+Their deeds detested, and abjured the wrong.
+With tender hands the stubborn horn he strains,
+The stubborn horn resisted all his pains!
+Already in despair he gives it o’er:
+“Take it who will (he cries), I strive no more,
+What numerous deaths attend this fatal bow!
+What souls and spirits shall it send below!
+Better, indeed, to die, and fairly give
+Nature her debt, than disappointed live,
+With each new sun to some new hope a prey,
+Yet still to-morrow falser than to-day.
+How long in vain Penelope we sought!
+This bow shall ease us of that idle thought,
+And send us with some humbler wife to live,
+Whom gold shall gain, or destiny shall give.”
+
+Thus speaking, on the floor the bow he placed
+(With rich inlay the various floor was graced):
+At distance far the feather’d shaft he throws,
+And to the seat returns from whence he rose.
+
+To him Antinous thus with fury said:
+“What words ill-omen’d from thy lips have fled?
+Thy coward-function ever is in fear!
+Those arms are dreadful which thou canst not bear,
+Why should this bow be fatal to the brave?
+Because the priest is born a peaceful slave.
+Mark then what others can.” He ended there,
+And bade Melanthius a vast pile prepare;
+He gives it instant flame, then fast beside
+Spreads o’er an ample board a bullock’s hide.
+With melted lard they soak the weapon o’er,
+Chafe every knot, and supple every pore.
+Vain all their art, and all their strength as vain;
+The bow inflexible resists their pain.
+The force of great Eurymachus alone
+And bold Antinous, yet untired, unknown:
+Those only now remain’d; but those confess’d
+Of all the train the mightiest and the best.
+
+Then from the hall, and from the noisy crew,
+The masters of the herd and flock withdrew.
+The king observes them, he the hall forsakes,
+And, past the limits of the court, o’ertakes.
+Then thus with accent mild Ulysses spoke:
+“Ye faithful guardians of the herd and flock!
+Shall I the secret of my breast conceal,
+Or (as my soul now dictates) shall I tell?
+Say, should some favouring god restore again
+The lost Ulysses to his native reign,
+How beat your hearts? what aid would you afford
+To the proud suitors, or your ancient lord?”
+
+Philaetius thus: “O were thy word not vain!
+Would mighty Jove restore that man again!
+These aged sinews, with new vigour strung,
+In his blest cause should emulate the young.”
+With equal vows Eumaeus too implored
+Each power above, with wishes for his lord.
+
+He saw their secret souls, and thus began:
+“Those vows the gods accord; behold the man!
+Your own Ulysses! twice ten years detain’d
+By woes and wanderings from this hapless land:
+At length he comes; but comes despised, unknown,
+And finding faithful you, and you alone.
+All else have cast him from their very thought,
+E’en in their wishes and their prayers forgot!
+Hear then, my friends: If Jove this arm succeed,
+And give yon impious revellers to bleed,
+My care shall be to bless your future lives
+With large possessions and with faithful wives;
+Fast by my palace shall your domes ascend,
+And each on young Telemachus attend,
+And each be call’d his brother and my friend.
+To give you firmer faith, now trust your eye;
+Lo! the broad scar indented on my thigh,
+When with Autolycus’ sons, of yore,
+On Parnass’ top I chased the tusky boar.”
+His ragged vest then drawn aside disclosed
+The sign conspicuous, and the scar exposed:
+Eager they view’d, with joy they stood amazed
+With tearful eyes o’er all their master gazed:
+Around his neck their longing arms they cast,
+His head, his shoulders, and his knees embraced;
+Tears followed tears; no word was in their power;
+In solemn silence fell the kindly shower.
+The king too weeps, the king too grasps their hands;
+And moveless, as a marble fountain, stands.
+
+Thus had their joy wept down the setting sun,
+But first the wise man ceased, and thus begun:
+“Enough—on other cares your thought employ,
+For danger waits on all untimely joy.
+Full many foes and fierce, observe us near;
+Some may betray, and yonder walls may hear.
+Re-enter then, not all at once, but stay
+Some moments you, and let me lead the way.
+To me, neglected as I am I know
+The haughty suitors will deny the bow;
+But thou, Eumaeus, as ’tis borne away,
+Thy master’s weapon to his hand convey.
+At every portal let some matron wait,
+And each lock fast the well-compacted gate:
+Close let them keep, whate’er invades their ear;
+Though arms, or shouts, or dying groans they hear.
+To thy strict charge, Philaetius, we consign
+The court’s main gate: to guard that pass be thine.”
+
+This said, he first return’d; the faithful swains
+At distance follow, as their king ordains.
+Before the flame Eurymachus now stands,
+And turns the bow, and chafes it with his hands
+Still the tough bow unmoved. The lofty man
+Sigh’d from his mighty soul, and thus began:
+
+“I mourn the common cause: for, oh, my friends,
+On me, on all, what grief, what shame attends!
+Not the lost nuptials can affect me more
+(For Greece has beauteous dames on every shore),
+But baffled thus! confess’d so far below
+Ulysses’ strength, as not to bend his bow!
+How shall all ages our attempt deride!
+Our weakness scorn!” Antinous thus replied:
+
+“Not so, Eurymachus: that no man draws
+The wondrous bow, attend another cause.
+Sacred to Phœbus is the solemn day,
+Which thoughtless we in games would waste away:
+Till the next dawn this ill-timed strife forego,
+And here leave fixed the ringlets in a row.
+Now bid the sewer approach, and let us join
+In due libations, and in rites divine,
+So end our night: before the day shall spring,
+The choicest offerings let Melanthius bring:
+Let then to Phœbus’ name the fatted thighs
+Feed the rich smokes high curling to the skies.
+So shall the patron of these arts bestow
+(For his the gift) the skill to bend the bow.”
+
+They heard well pleased: the ready heralds bring
+The cleansing waters from the limpid spring:
+The goblet high with rosy wine they crown’d,
+In order circling to the peers around.
+That rite complete, uprose the thoughtful man,
+And thus his meditated scheme began:
+
+“If what I ask your noble minds approve,
+Ye peers and rivals in the royal love!
+Chief, if it hurt not great Antinous’ ear
+(Whose sage decision I with wonder hear),
+And if Eurymachus the motion please:
+Give Heaven this day and rest the bow in peace.
+To-morrow let your arms dispute the prize,
+And take it he, the favour’d of the skies!
+But, since till then this trial you delay,
+Trust it one moment to my hands to-day:
+Fain would I prove, before your judging eyes,
+What once I was, whom wretched you despise:
+If yet this arm its ancient force retain;
+Or if my woes (a long-continued train)
+And wants and insults, make me less than man.”
+
+Rage flash’d in lightning from the suitors’ eyes,
+Yet mixed with terror at the bold emprise.
+Antinous then: “O miserable guest!
+Is common sense quite banish’d from thy breast?
+Sufficed it not, within the palace placed,
+To sit distinguish’d, with our presence graced,
+Admitted here with princes to confer,
+A man unknown, a needy wanderer?
+To copious wine this insolence we owe,
+And much thy betters wine can overthrow:
+The great Eurytion, when this frenzy stung,
+Pirithous’ roofs with frantic riot rung;
+Boundless the Centaur raged; till one and all
+The heroes rose, and dragg’d him from the hall;
+His nose they shorten’d, and his ears they slit,
+And sent him sober’d home, with better wit.
+Hence with long war the double race was cursed,
+Fatal to all, but to the aggressor first.
+Such fate I prophesy our guest attends,
+If here this interdicted bow he bends:
+Nor shall these walls such insolence contain:
+The first fair wind transports him o’er the main,
+Where Echetus to death the guilty brings
+(The worst of mortals, e’en the worst of kings).
+Better than that, if thou approve our cheer;
+Cease the mad strife and share our bounty here.”
+
+To this the queen her just dislike express’d:
+
+“‘Tis impious, prince, to harm the stranger-guest,
+Base to insult who bears a suppliant’s name,
+And some respect Telemachus may claim.
+What if the immortals on the man bestow
+Sufficient strength to draw the mighty bow?
+Shall I, a queen, by rival chiefs adored,
+Accept a wandering stranger for my lord?
+A hope so idle never touch’d his brain:
+Then ease your bosoms of a fear so vain.
+Far be he banish’d from this stately scene
+Who wrongs his princess with a thought so mean.”
+
+“O fair! and wisest of so fair a kind!
+(Respectful thus Eurymachus rejoin’d,)
+Moved by no weak surmise, but sense of shame,
+We dread the all-arraigning voice of Fame:
+We dread the censure of the meanest slave,
+The weakest woman: all can wrong the brave.
+‘Behold what wretches to the bed pretend
+Of that brave chief whose bow they could not bend!
+In came a beggar of the strolling crew,
+And did what all those princes could not do.’
+Thus will the common voice our deed defame,
+And thus posterity upbraid our name.”
+
+To whom the queen: “If fame engage your views,
+Forbear those acts which infamy pursues;
+Wrong and oppression no renown can raise;
+Know, friend! that virtue is the path to praise.
+The stature of our guest, his port, his face,
+Speak him descended from no vulgar race.
+To him the bow, as he desires, convey;
+And to his hand if Phœbus give the day,
+Hence, to reward his merit, be shall bear
+A two-edged falchion and a shining spear,
+Embroider’d sandals, a rich cloak and vest,
+A safe conveyance to his port of rest.”
+
+“O royal mother! ever-honour’d name!
+Permit me (cries Telemachus) to claim
+A son’s just right. No Grecian prince but I
+Has power this bow to grant or to deny.
+Of all that Ithaca’s rough hills contain,
+And all wide Elis’ courser-breeding plain,
+To me alone my father’s arms descend;
+And mine alone they are, to give or lend.
+Retire, O queen! thy household task resume,
+Tend, with thy maids, the labours of thy loom;
+The bow, the darts, and arms of chivalry,
+These cares to man belong, and most to me.”
+
+Mature beyond his years, the queen admired
+His sage reply, and with her train retired;
+There in her chamber as she sate apart,
+Revolved his words, and placed them in her heart.
+On her Ulysses then she fix’d her soul;
+Down her fair cheek the tears abundant roll,
+Till gentle Pallas, piteous of her cries,
+In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes.
+
+Now through the press the bow Eumaeus bore,
+And all was riot, noise, and wild uproar.
+“Hold! lawless rustic! whither wilt thou go?
+To whom, insensate, dost thou bear the bow?
+Exiled for this to some sequester’d den,
+Far from the sweet society of men,
+To thy own dogs a prey thou shalt be made;
+If Heaven and Phœbus lend the suitors aid.”
+Thus they. Aghast he laid the weapon down,
+But bold Telemachus thus urged him on:
+“Proceed, false slave, and slight their empty words:
+What! hopes the fool to please so many lords?
+Young as I am, thy prince’s vengeful hand
+Stretch’d forth in wrath shall drive thee from the land.
+Oh! could the vigour of this arm as well
+The oppressive suitors from my walls expel!
+Then what a shoal of lawless men should go
+To fill with tumult the dark courts below!”
+
+The suitors with a scornful smile survey
+The youth, indulging in the genial day.
+Eumaeus, thus encouraged, hastes to bring
+The strifeful bow and gives it to the king.
+Old Euryclea calling then aside,
+“Hear what Telemachus enjoins (he cried):
+At every portal let some matron wait,
+And each lock fast the well-compacted gate;
+And if unusual sounds invade their ear,
+If arms, or shouts, or dying groans they hear,
+Let none to call or issue forth presume,
+But close attend the labours of the loom.”
+
+Her prompt obedience on his order waits;
+Closed in an instant were the palace gates.
+In the same moment forth Philaetius flies,
+Secures the court, and with a cable ties
+The utmost gate (the cable strongly wrought
+Of Byblos’ reed, a ship from Egypt brought);
+Then unperceived and silent at the board
+His seat he takes, his eyes upon his lord.
+
+And now his well-known bow the master bore,
+Turn’d on all sides, and view’d it o’er and o’er;
+Lest time or worms had done the weapon wrong,
+Its owner absent, and untried so long.
+While some deriding—“How he turns the bow!
+Some other like it sure the man must know,
+Or else would copy; or in bows he deals;
+Perhaps he makes them, or perhaps he steals.”
+“Heaven to this wretch (another cried) be kind!
+And bless, in all to which he stands inclined.
+With such good fortune as he now shall find.”
+
+Heedless he heard them: but disdain’d reply;
+The bow perusing with exactest eye.
+Then, as some heavenly minstrel, taught to sing
+High notes responsive to the trembling string,
+To some new strain when he adapts the lyre,
+Or the dumb lute refits with vocal wire,
+Relaxes, strains, and draws them to and fro;
+So the great master drew the mighty bow,
+And drew with ease. One hand aloft display’d
+The bending horns, and one the string essay’d.
+From his essaying hand the string, let fly,
+Twang’d short and sharp like the shrill swallow’s cry.
+A general horror ran through all the race,
+Sunk was each heart, and pale was every face,
+Signs from above ensued: the unfolding sky
+In lightning burst; Jove thunder’d from on high.
+Fired at the call of heaven’s almighty Lord,
+He snatch’d the shaft that glitter’d on the board
+(Fast by, the rest lay sleeping in the sheath,
+But soon to fly the messengers of death).
+
+Now sitting as he was, the cord he drew,
+Through every ringlet levelling his view:
+Then notch’d the shaft, released, and gave it wing;
+The whizzing arrow vanished from the string,
+Sung on direct, and threaded every ring.
+The solid gate its fury scarcely bounds;
+Pierced through and through the solid gate resounds,
+Then to the prince: “Nor have I wrought thee shame;
+Nor err’d this hand unfaithful to its aim;
+Nor prov’d the toil too hard; nor have I lost
+That ancient vigour, once my pride and boast.
+Ill I deserved these haughty peers’ disdain;
+Now let them comfort their dejected train,
+In sweet repast their present hour employ,
+Nor wait till evening for the genial joy:
+Then to the lute’s soft voice prolong the night;
+Music, the banquet’s most refined delight.”
+
+He said, then gave a nod; and at the word
+Telemachus girds on his shining sword.
+Fast by his father’s side he takes his stand:
+The beamy javelin lightens in his hand.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XXII.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+THE DEATH OF THE SUITORS.
+
+
+Ulysses begins the slaughter of the suitors by the death of Antinous.
+He declares himself, and lets fly his arrows at the rest. Telemachus
+assists and brings arms for his father, himself, Eumaeus, and
+Philaetius. Melanthius does the same for the wooers. Minerva encourages
+Ulysses in the shape of Mentor. The suitors are all slain, only Medon
+and Phemius are spared. Melanthius and the unfaithful servants are
+executed. The rest acknowledge their master with all demonstrations of
+joy.
+
+
+Then fierce the hero o’er the threshold strode;
+Stripp’d of his rags, he blazed out like a god.
+Full in their face the lifted bow he bore,
+And quiver’d deaths, a formidable store;
+Before his feet the rattling shower he threw,
+And thus, terrific, to the suitor-crew:
+
+“One venturous game this hand hath won to-day,
+Another, princes! yet remains to play;
+Another mark our arrow must attain.
+Phœbus, assist! nor be the labour vain.”
+Swift as the word the parting arrow sings,
+And bears thy fate, Antinous, on its wings:
+Wretch that he was, of unprophetic soul!
+High in his hands he rear’d the golden bowl!
+E’en then to drain it lengthen’d out his breath;
+Changed to the deep, the bitter draught of death:
+For fate who fear’d amidst a feastful band?
+And fate to numbers, by a single hand?
+Full through his throat Ulysses’ weapon pass’d,
+And pierced his neck. He falls, and breathes his last.
+The tumbling goblet the wide floor o’erflows,
+A stream of gore burst spouting from his nose;
+Grim in convulsive agonies be sprawls:
+Before him spurn’d the loaded table falls,
+And spreads the pavement with a mingled flood
+Of floating meats, and wine, and human blood.
+Amazed, confounded, as they saw him fall,
+Up rose the throngs tumultuous round the hall:
+O’er all the dome they cast a haggard eye,
+Each look’d for arms—in vain; no arms were nigh:
+“Aim’st thou at princes? (all amazed they said;)
+Thy last of games unhappy hast thou play’d;
+Thy erring shaft has made our bravest bleed,
+And death, unlucky guest, attends thy deed.
+Vultures shall tear thee.” Thus incensed they spoke,
+While each to chance ascribed the wondrous stroke:
+Blind as they were: for death e’en now invades
+His destined prey, and wraps them all in shades.
+Then, grimly frowning, with a dreadful look,
+That wither’d all their hearts, Ulysses spoke:
+
+“Dogs, ye have had your day! ye fear’d no more
+Ulysses vengeful from the Trojan shore;
+While, to your lust and spoil a guardless prey,
+Our house, our wealth, our helpless handmaids lay:
+Not so content, with bolder frenzy fired,
+E’en to our bed presumptuous you aspired:
+Laws or divine or human fail’d to move,
+Or shame of men, or dread of gods above;
+Heedless alike of infamy or praise,
+Or Fame’s eternal voice in future days;
+The hour of vengeance, wretches, now is come;
+Impending fate is yours, and instant doom.”
+
+Thus dreadful he. Confused the suitors stood,
+From their pale cheeks recedes the flying blood:
+Trembling they sought their guilty heads to hide.
+Alone the bold Eurymachus replied:
+
+“If, as thy words import (he thus began),
+Ulysses lives, and thou the mighty man,
+Great are thy wrongs, and much hast thou sustain’d
+In thy spoil’d palace, and exhausted land;
+The cause and author of those guilty deeds,
+Lo! at thy feet unjust Antinous bleeds
+Not love, but wild ambition was his guide;
+To slay thy son, thy kingdom to divide,
+These were his aims; but juster Jove denied.
+Since cold in death the offender lies, oh spare
+Thy suppliant people, and receive their prayer!
+Brass, gold, and treasures, shall the spoil defray,
+Two hundred oxen every prince shall pay:
+The waste of years refunded in a day.
+Till then thy wrath is just.” Ulysses burn’d
+With high disdain, and sternly thus return’d:
+
+“All, all the treasure that enrich’d our throne
+Before your rapines, join’d with all your own,
+If offer’d, vainly should for mercy call;
+’Tis you that offer, and I scorn them all;
+Your blood is my demand, your lives the prize,
+Till pale as yonder wretch each suitor lies.
+Hence with those coward terms; or fight or fly;
+This choice is left you, to resist or die:
+And die I trust ye shall.” He sternly spoke:
+With guilty fears the pale assembly shook.
+Alone Eurymachus exhorts the train:
+“Yon archer, comrades, will not shoot in vain;
+But from the threshold shall his darts be sped,
+(Whoe’er he be), till every prince lie dead?
+Be mindful of yourselves, draw forth your swords,
+And to his shafts obtend these ample boards
+(So need compels). Then, all united, strive
+The bold invader from his post to drive:
+The city roused shall to our rescue haste,
+And this mad archer soon have shot his last.”
+
+Swift as he spoke, he drew his traitor sword,
+And like a lion rush’d against his lord:
+The wary chief the rushing foe repress’d,
+Who met the point and forced it in his breast:
+His falling hand deserts the lifted sword,
+And prone he falls extended o’er the board!
+Before him wide, in mix’d effusion roll
+The untasted viands, and the jovial bowl.
+Full through his liver pass’d the mortal wound,
+With dying rage his forehead beats the ground;
+He spurn’d the seat with fury as he fell,
+And the fierce soul to darkness dived, and hell.
+Next bold Amphinomus his arm extends
+To force the pass; the godlike man defends.
+Thy spear, Telemachus, prevents the attack,
+The brazen weapon driving through his back.
+Thence through his breast its bloody passage tore;
+Flat falls he thundering on the marble floor,
+And his crush’d forehead marks the stone with gore.
+He left his javelin in the dead, for fear
+The long encumbrance of the weighty spear
+To the fierce foe advantage might afford,
+To rush between and use the shorten’d sword.
+With speedy ardour to his sire he flies,
+And, “Arm, great father! arm (in haste he cries).
+Lo, hence I run for other arms to wield,
+For missive javelins, and for helm and shield;
+Fast by our side let either faithful swain
+In arms attend us, and their part sustain.”
+
+“Haste, and return (Ulysses made reply)
+While yet the auxiliar shafts this hand supply;
+Lest thus alone, encounter’d by an host,
+Driven from the gate, the important past be lost.”
+
+With speed Telemachus obeys, and flies
+Where piled in heaps the royal armour lies;
+Four brazen helmets, eight refulgent spears,
+And four broad bucklers to his sire he bears:
+At once in brazen panoply they shone.
+At once each servant braced his armour on;
+Around their king a faithful guard they stand.
+While yet each shaft flew deathful from his hand:
+Chief after chief expired at every wound,
+And swell’d the bleeding mountain on the ground.
+Soon as his store of flying fates was spent.
+Against the wall he set the bow unbent;
+And now his shoulders bear the massy shield,
+And now his hands two beamy javelins wield:
+He frowns beneath his nodding plume, that play’d
+O’er the high crest, and cast a dreadful shade.
+
+There stood a window near, whence looking down
+From o’er the porch appear’d the subject town.
+A double strength of valves secured the place,
+A high and narrow, but the only pass:
+The cautious king, with all-preventing care,
+To guard that outlet, placed Eumaeus there;
+When Agelaus thus: “Has none the sense
+To mount yon window, and alarm from thence
+The neighbour-town? the town shall force the door,
+And this bold archer soon shall shoot no more.”
+Melanthius then: “That outlet to the gate
+So near adjoins, that one may guard the strait.
+But other methods of defence remain;
+Myself with arms can furnish all the train;
+Stores from the royal magazine I bring,
+And their own darts shall pierce the prince and king.”
+
+He said; and mounting up the lofty stairs,
+Twelve shields, twelve lances, and twelve helmets bears:
+All arm, and sudden round the hall appears
+A blaze of bucklers, and a wood of spears.
+
+The hero stands oppress’d with mighty woe,
+On every side he sees the labour grow;
+“Oh cursed event! and oh unlook’d for aid!
+Melanthius or the women have betray’d—
+Oh my dear son!”—The father with a sigh
+Then ceased; the filial virtue made reply;
+
+“Falsehood is folly, and ’tis just to own
+The fault committed: this was mine alone;
+My haste neglected yonder door to bar,
+And hence the villain has supplied their war.
+Run, good Eumaeus, then, and (what before
+I thoughtless err’d in) well secure that door:
+Learn, if by female fraud this deed were done,
+Or (as my thought misgives) by Dolius’ son.”
+
+While yet they spoke, in quest of arms again
+To the high chamber stole the faithless swain,
+Not unobserved. Eumaeus watchful eyed,
+And thus address’d Ulysses near his side:
+
+“The miscreant we suspected takes that way;
+Him, if this arm be powerful, shall I slay?
+Or drive him hither, to receive the meed
+From thy own hand, of this detested deed?”
+
+“Not so (replied Ulysses); leave him there,
+For us sufficient is another care;
+Within the structure of this palace wall
+To keep enclosed his masters till they fall.
+Go you, and seize the felon; backward bind
+His arms and legs, and fix a plank behind:
+On this his body by strong cords extend,
+And on a column near the roof suspend:
+So studied tortures his vile days shall end.”
+
+The ready swains obey’d with joyful haste,
+Behind the felon unperceived they pass’d,
+As round the room in quest of arms he goes
+(The half-shut door conceal’d his lurking foes):
+One hand sustain’d a helm, and one the shield
+Which old Laertes wont in youth to wield,
+Cover’d with dust, with dryness chapp’d and worn,
+The brass corroded, and the leather torn.
+Thus laden, o’er the threshold as he stepp’d,
+Fierce on the villain from each side they leap’d,
+Back by the hair the trembling dastard drew,
+And down reluctant on the pavement threw.
+Active and pleased the zealous swains fulfil
+At every point their master’s rigid will;
+First, fast behind, his hands and feet they bound,
+Then straighten’d cords involved his body round;
+So drawn aloft, athwart the column tied,
+The howling felon swung from side to side.
+
+Eumaeus scoffing then with keen disdain:
+“There pass thy pleasing night, O gentle swain!
+On that soft pillow, from that envied height,
+First may’st thou see the springing dawn of light;
+So timely rise, when morning streaks the east,
+To drive thy victims to the suitors’ feast.”
+
+This said, they, left him, tortured as he lay,
+Secured the door, and hasty strode away:
+Each, breathing death, resumed his dangerous post
+Near great Ulysses; four against an host,
+When lo! descending to her hero’s aid,
+Jove’s daughter, Pallas, War’s triumphant maid:
+In Mentor’s friendly form she join’d his side:
+Ulysses saw, and thus with transport cried:
+
+“Come, ever welcome, and thy succour lend;
+O every sacred name in one, my friend!
+Early we loved, and long our loves have grown;
+Whate’er through life’s whole series I have done,
+Or good, or grateful, now to mind recall,
+And, aiding this one hour, repay it all.”
+
+Thus he; but pleasing hopes his bosom warm
+Of Pallas latent in the friendly form.
+The adverse host the phantom-warrior eyed,
+And first, loud-threatening, Agelaus cried:
+
+“Mentor, beware, nor let that tongue persuade
+Thy frantic arm to lend Ulysses aid;
+Our force successful shall our threat make good,
+And with the sire and son commix thy blood.
+What hopest thou here? Thee first the sword shall slay,
+Then lop thy whole posterity away;
+Far hence thy banish’d consort shall we send;
+With his thy forfeit lands and treasures blend;
+Thus, and thus only, shalt thou join thy friend.”
+
+His barbarous insult even the goddess fires,
+Who thus the warrior to revenge inspires:
+
+“Art thou Ulysses? where then shall we find
+The patient body and the constant mind?
+That courage, once the Trojans’ daily dread,
+Known nine long years, and felt by heroes dead?
+And where that conduct, which revenged the lust
+Of Priam’s race, and laid proud Troy in dust?
+If this, when Helen was the cause, were done;
+What for thy country now, thy queen, thy son?
+Rise then in combat, at my side attend;
+Observe what vigour gratitude can lend,
+And foes how weak, opposed against a friend!”
+
+She spoke; but willing longer to survey
+The sire and son’s great acts withheld the day!
+By farther toils decreed the brave to try,
+And level poised the wings of victory;
+Then with a change of form eludes their sight,
+Perch’d like a swallow on a rafter’s height,
+And unperceived enjoys the rising fight.
+
+Damastor’s son, bold Agelaus, leads,
+The guilty war, Eurynomus succeeds;
+With these, Pisander, great Polyctor’s son,
+Sage Polybus, and stern Amphimedon,
+With Demoptolemus: these six survive:
+The best of all the shafts had left alive.
+Amidst the carnage, desperate as they stand,
+Thus Agelaus roused the lagging band:
+
+“The hour has come, when yon fierce man no more
+With bleeding princes shall bestrew the floor;
+Lo! Mentor leaves him with an empty boast;
+The four remain, but four against an host.
+Let each at once discharge the deadly dart,
+One sure of six shall reach Ulysses’ heart:
+The rest must perish, their great leader slain:
+Thus shall one stroke the glory lost regain.”
+
+Then all at once their mingled lances threw,
+And thirsty all of one man’s blood they flew;
+In vain! Minerva turned them with her breath,
+And scattered short, or wide, the points of death!
+With deaden’d sound one on the threshold falls,
+One strikes the gate, one rings against the walls:
+The storm passed innocent. The godlike man
+Now loftier trod, and dreadful thus began:
+“‘Tis now (brave friends) our turn, at once to throw,
+(So speed them Heaven) our javelins at the foe.
+That impious race to all their past misdeeds
+Would add our blood, injustice still proceeds.”
+
+He spoke: at once their fiery lances flew:
+Great Demoptolemus Ulysses slew;
+Euryades received the prince’s dart;
+The goatherd’s quiver’d in Pisander’s heart;
+Fierce Elatus by thine, Eumaeus, falls;
+Their fall in thunder echoes round the walls.
+The rest retreat: the victors now advance,
+Each from the dead resumes his bloody lance.
+Again the foe discharge the steely shower;
+Again made frustrate by the virgin-power.
+Some, turn’d by Pallas, on the threshold fall,
+Some wound the gate, some ring against the wall;
+Some weak, or ponderous with the brazen head,
+Drop harmless on the pavement, sounding dead.
+
+Then bold Amphimedon his javelin cast:
+Thy hand, Telemachus, it lightly razed:
+And from Ctesippus’ arm the spear elanced:
+On good Eumaeus’ shield and shoulder glanced;
+Not lessened of their force (so light the wound)
+Each sung along and dropped upon the ground.
+Fate doom’d thee next, Eurydamus, to bear,
+Thy death ennobled by Ulysses’ spear.
+By the bold son Amphimedon was slain,
+And Polybus renown’d, the faithful swain.
+Pierced through the breast the rude Ctesippus bled,
+And thus Philaetius gloried o’er the dead:
+
+“There end thy pompous vaunts and high disdain;
+O sharp in scandal, voluble and vain!
+How weak is mortal pride! To Heaven alone
+The event of actions and our fates are known:
+Scoffer, behold what gratitude we bear:
+The victim’s heel is answered with this spear.”
+
+Ulysses brandish’d high his vengeful steel,
+And Damastorides that instant fell:
+Fast by Leocritus expiring lay,
+The prince’s javelin tore its bloody way
+Through all his bowels: down he tumbled prone,
+His batter’d front and brains besmear the stone.
+
+Now Pallas shines confess’d; aloft she spreads
+The arm of vengeance o’er their guilty heads:
+The dreadful aegis blazes in their eye:
+Amazed they see, they tremble, and they fly:
+Confused, distracted, through the rooms they fling:
+Like oxen madden’d by the breeze’s sting,
+When sultry days, and long, succeed the gentle spring,
+Not half so keen fierce vultures of the chase
+Stoop from the mountains on the feather’d race,
+When, the wide field extended snares beset,
+With conscious dread they shun the quivering net:
+No help, no flight; but wounded every way,
+Headlong they drop; the fowlers seize their prey.
+On all sides thus they double wound on wound,
+In prostrate heaps the wretches beat the ground,
+Unmanly shrieks precede each dying groan,
+And a red deluge floats the reeking stone.
+
+Leiodes first before the victor falls:
+The wretched augur thus for mercy calls:
+“Oh gracious hear, nor let thy suppliant bleed;
+Still undishonoured, or by word or deed,
+Thy house, for me remains; by me repress’d
+Full oft was check’d the injustice of the rest:
+Averse they heard me when I counselled well,
+Their hearts were harden’d, and they justly fell.
+O spare an augur’s consecrated head,
+Nor add the blameless to the guilty dead.”
+
+“Priest as thou art! for that detested band
+Thy lying prophecies deceived the land;
+Against Ulysses have thy vows been made,
+For them thy daily orisons were paid:
+Yet more, e’en to our bed thy pride aspires:
+One common crime one common fate requires.”
+
+Thus speaking, from the ground the sword he took
+Which Agelaus’ dying hand forsook:
+Full through his neck the weighty falchion sped;
+Along the pavement roll’d the muttering head.
+
+Phemius alone the hand of vengeance spared,
+Phemius the sweet, the heaven-instructed bard.
+Beside the gate the reverend minstrel stands;
+The lyre now silent trembling in his hands;
+Dubious to supplicate the chief, or fly
+To Jove’s inviolable altar nigh,
+Where oft Laertes holy vows had paid,
+And oft Ulysses smoking victims laid.
+His honour’d harp with care he first set down,
+Between the laver and the silver throne;
+Then prostrate stretch’d before the dreadful man,
+Persuasive thus, with accent soft began:
+
+“O king! to mercy be thy soul inclined,
+And spare the poet’s ever-gentle kind.
+A deed like this thy future fame would wrong,
+For dear to gods and men is sacred song.
+Self-taught I sing; by Heaven, and Heaven alone,
+The genuine seeds of poesy are sown:
+And (what the gods bestow) the lofty lay
+To gods alone and godlike worth we pay.
+Save then the poet, and thyself reward!
+’Tis thine to merit, mine is to record.
+That here I sung, was force, and not desire;
+This hand reluctant touch’d the warbling wire;
+And let thy son attest, nor sordid pay,
+Nor servile flattery, stain’d the moral lay.”
+
+The moving words Telemachus attends,
+His sire approaches, and the bard defends.
+“O mix not, father, with those impious dead
+The man divine! forbear that sacred head;
+Medon, the herald, too, our arms may spare,
+Medon, who made my infancy his care;
+If yet he breathes, permit thy son to give
+Thus much to gratitude, and bid him live.”
+
+Beneath a table, trembling with dismay,
+Couch’d close to earth, unhappy Medon lay,
+Wrapp’d in a new-slain ox’s ample hide;
+Swift at the word he cast his screen aside,
+Sprung to the prince, embraced his knee with tears,
+And thus with grateful voice address’d his ears
+
+“O prince! O friend! lo, here thy Medon stands
+Ah stop the hero’s unresisted hands,
+Incensed too justly by that impious brood,
+Whose guilty glories now are set in blood.”
+To whom Ulysses with a pleasing eye:
+
+“Be bold, on friendship and my son rely;
+Live, an example for the world to read,
+How much more safe the good than evil deed:
+Thou, with the heaven-taught bard, in peace resort
+From blood and carnage to yon open court:
+Me other work requires.” With timorous awe
+From the dire scene the exempted two withdraw,
+Scarce sure of life, look round, and trembling move
+To the bright altars of Protector Jove.
+
+Meanwhile Ulysses search’d the dome, to find
+If yet there live of all the offending kind.
+Not one! complete the bloody tale he found,
+All steep’d in blood, all gasping on the ground.
+So, when by hollow shores the fisher-train
+Sweep with their arching nets the roaring main,
+And scarce the meshy toils the copious draught contain,
+All naked of their element, and bare,
+The fishes pant, and gasp in thinner air;
+Wide o’er the sands are spread the stiffening prey,
+Till the warm sun exhales their soul away.
+
+And now the king commands his son to call
+Old Euryclea to the deathful hall:
+The son observant not a moment stays;
+The aged governess with speed obeys;
+The sounding portals instant they display;
+The matron moves, the prince directs the way.
+On heaps of death the stern Ulysses stood,
+All black with dust, and cover’d thick with blood.
+So the grim lion from the slaughter comes,
+Dreadful he glares, and terribly he foams,
+His breast with marks of carnage painted o’er,
+His jaws all dropping with the bull’s black gore.
+
+Soon as her eyes the welcome object met,
+The guilty fall’n, the mighty deed complete;
+A scream of joy her feeble voice essay’d;
+The hero check’d her, and composedly said.
+
+“Woman, experienced as thou art, control
+Indecent joy, and feast thy secret soul.
+To insult the dead is cruel and unjust;
+Fate and their crime have sunk them to the dust.
+Nor heeded these the censure of mankind,
+The good and bad were equal in their mind
+Justly the price of worthlessness they paid,
+And each now wails an unlamented shade.
+But thou sincere! O Euryclea, say,
+What maids dishonour us, and what obey?”
+
+Then she: “In these thy kingly walls remain
+(My son) full fifty of the handmaid train,
+Taught by my care to cull the fleece or weave,
+And servitude with pleasing tasks deceive;
+Of these, twice six pursue their wicked way,
+Nor me, nor chaste Penelope obey;
+Nor fits it that Telemachus command
+(Young as he is) his mother’s female band.
+Hence to the upper chambers let me fly
+Where slumbers soft now close the royal eye;
+There wake her with the news”—the matron cried.
+“Not so (Ulysses, more sedate, replied),
+Bring first the crew who wrought these guilty deeds.”
+In haste the matron parts: the king proceeds;
+“Now to dispose the dead, the care remains
+To you, my son, and you, my faithfull swains;
+The offending females to that task we doom,
+To wash, to scent, and purify the room;
+These (every table cleansed, and every throne,
+And all the melancholy labour done)
+Drive to yon court, without the palace wall,
+There the revenging sword shall smite them all;
+So with the suitors let them mix in dust,
+Stretch’d in a long oblivion of their lust.”
+He said: the lamentable train appear,
+Each vents a groan, and drops a tender tear;
+Each heaved her mournful burden, and beneath
+The porch deposed the ghastly heap of death.
+The chief severe, compelling each to move,
+Urged the dire task imperious from above;
+With thirsty sponge they rub the tables o’er
+(The swains unite their toil); the walls, the floor,
+Wash’d with the effusive wave, are purged of gore.
+Once more the palace set in fair array,
+To the base court the females take their way;
+There compass’d close between the dome and wall
+(Their life’s last scene) they trembling wait their fall.
+
+Then thus the prince: “To these shall we afford
+A fate so pure as by the martial sword?
+To these, the nightly prostitutes to shame,
+And base revilers of our house and name?”
+
+Thus speaking, on the circling wall he strung
+A ship’s tough cable from a column hung;
+Near the high top he strain’d it strongly round,
+Whence no contending foot could reach the ground.
+Their heads above connected in a row,
+They beat the air with quivering feet below:
+Thus on some tree hung struggling in the snare,
+The doves or thrushes flap their wings in air.
+Soon fled the soul impure, and left behind
+The empty corse to waver with the wind.
+
+Then forth they led Melanthius, and began
+Their bloody work; they lopp’d away the man,
+Morsel for dogs! then trimm’d with brazen shears
+The wretch, and shorten’d of his nose and ears;
+His hands and feet last felt the cruel steel:
+He roar’d, and torments gave his soul to hell.
+They wash, and to Ulysses take their way:
+So ends the bloody business of the day.
+
+To Euryclea then address’d the king:
+“Bring hither fire, and hither sulphur bring,
+To purge the palace: then the queen attend,
+And let her with her matron-train descend;
+The matron-train, with all the virgin-band,
+Assemble here, to learn their lord’s command.”
+
+Then Euryclea: “Joyful I obey,
+But cast those mean dishonest rags away;
+Permit me first the royal robes to bring:
+Ill suits this garb the shoulders of a king.”
+“Bring sulphur straight, and fire” (the monarch cries).
+She hears, and at the word obedient flies.
+With fire and sulphur, cure of noxious fumes,
+He purged the walls, and blood-polluted rooms.
+Again the matron springs with eager pace,
+And spreads her lord’s return from place to place.
+They hear, rush forth, and instant round him stand,
+A gazing throng, a torch in every hand.
+They saw, they knew him, and with fond embrace
+Each humbly kiss’d his knee, or hand, or face;
+He knows them all, in all such truth appears,
+E’en he indulges the sweet joy of tears.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XXIII.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+
+Euryclea awakens Penelope with the news of Ulysses’ return, and the
+death of the suitors. Penelope scarcely credits her; but supposes some
+god has punished them, and descends from her department in doubt. At
+the first interview of Ulysses and Penelope, she is quite unsatisfied.
+Minerva restores him to the beauty of his youth; but the queen
+continues incredulous, till by some circumstances she is convinced, and
+falls into all the transports of passion and tenderness. They recount
+to each other all that has passed during their long separation. The
+next morning Ulysses, arming himself and his friends, goes from the
+city to visit his father.
+
+
+Then to the queen, as in repose she lay,
+The nurse with eager rapture speeds her way:
+The transports of her faithful heart supply
+A sudden youth, and give her wings to fly.
+
+“And sleeps my child? (the reverend matron cries)
+Ulysses lives! arise, my child, arise!
+At length appears the long-expected hour!
+Ulysses comes! the suitors are no more!
+No more they view the golden light of day!
+Arise, and bless thee with the glad survey?”
+
+Touch’d at her words, the mournful queen rejoin’d:
+“Ah! whither wanders thy distemper’d mind?
+The righteous powers, who tread the starry skies,
+The weak enlighten, and confound the wise,
+And human thought, with unresisted sway,
+Depress or raise, enlarge or take away:
+Truth, by their high decree, thy voice forsakes,
+And folly with the tongue of wisdom speaks.
+Unkind, the fond illusion to impose!
+Was it to flatter or deride my woes?
+Never did I sleep so sweet enjoy,
+Since my dear lord left Ithaca for Troy.
+Why must I wake to grieve, and curse thy shore,
+O Troy?—may never tongue pronounce thee more!
+Begone! another might have felt our rage,
+But age is sacred, and we spare thy age.”
+
+To whom with warmth: “My soul a lie disdains;
+Ulysses lives, thy own Ulysses reigns:
+That stranger, patient of the suitors’ wrongs,
+And the rude license of ungovern’d tongues!
+He, he is thine! Thy son his latent guest
+Long knew, but lock’d the secret in his breast:
+With well concerted art to end his woes,
+And burst at once in vengeance on the foes.”
+
+While yet she spoke, the queen in transport sprung
+Swift from the couch, and round the matron hung;
+Fast from her eye descends the rolling tear:
+“Say, once more say, is my Ulysses here?
+How could that numerous and outrageous band
+By one be slain, though by a hero’s hand?”
+
+“I saw it not (she cries), but heard alone,
+When death was busy, a loud dying groan;
+The damsel-train turn’d pale at every wound,
+Immured we sate, and catch’d each passing sound;
+When death had seized her prey, thy son attends,
+And at his nod the damsel-train descends;
+There terrible in arms Ulysses stood,
+And the dead suitors almost swam in blood:
+Thy heart had leap’d the hero to survey,
+Stern as the surly lion o’er his prey,
+Glorious in gore, now with sulphereous fire
+The dome he purges, now the flame aspires;
+Heap’d lie the dead without the palace walls—
+Haste, daughter, haste, thy own Ulysses calls!
+Thy every wish the bounteous gods bestow;
+Enjoy the present good, and former woe.
+Ulysses lives, his vanquish’d foes to see;
+He lives to thy Telemachus and thee!”
+
+“Ah, no! (with sighs Penelope rejoin’d,)
+Excess of joy disturbs thy wandering mind;
+How blest this happy hour, should he appear,
+Dear to us all, to me supremely dear;
+Ah, no! some god the suitors death decreed,
+Some god descends, and by his hand they bleed;
+Blind! to contemn the stranger’s righteous cause,
+And violate all hospitable laws!
+The good they hated, and the powers defied!
+But heaven is just, and by a god they died.
+For never must Ulysses view this shore;
+Never! the loved Ulysses is no more!”
+
+“What words (the matron cries) have reach’d my ears?
+Doubt we his presence, when he now appears!
+Then hear conviction: Ere the fatal day
+That forced Ulysses o’er the watery way,
+A boar, fierce rushing in the sylvan war,
+Plough’d half his thigh; I saw, I saw the scar,
+And wild with transport had reveal’d the wound;
+But ere I spoke, he rose, and check’d the sound.
+Then, daughter, haste away! and if a lie
+Flow from this tongue, then let thy servant die!”
+To whom with dubious joy the queen replies:
+“Wise is thy soul, but errors seize the wise;
+The works of gods what mortal can survey?
+Who knows their motives, who shall trace their way?
+But learn we instant how the suitors trod
+The paths of death, by man, or by a god.”
+Thus speaks the queen, and no reply attends,
+But with alternate joy and fear descends;
+At every step debates her lord to prove;
+Or, rushing to his arms, confess her love!
+Then gliding through the marble valves, in state
+Opposed, before the shining sire she sate.
+The monarch, by a column high enthroned,
+His eye withdrew, and fix’d it on the ground;
+Curious to hear his queen the silence break:
+Amazed she sate, and impotent to speak;
+O’er all the man her eyes she rolls in vain,
+Now hopes, now fears, now knows, then doubts again.
+At length Telemachus: “Oh, who can find
+A woman like Penelope unkind?
+Why thus in silence? why with winning charms
+Thus slow to fly with rapture to his arms?
+Stubborn the breast that with no transport glows,
+When twice ten years are pass’d of mighty woes;
+To softness lost, to spousal love unknown,
+The gods have formed that rigid heart of stone!”
+“O my Telemachus! (the queen rejoin’d,)
+Distracting fears confound my labouring mind;
+Powerless to speak. I scarce uplift my eyes,
+Nor dare to question; doubts on doubts arise.
+Oh deign he, if Ulysses, to remove
+These boding thoughts, and what he is, to prove!”
+Pleased with her virtuous fears, the king replies:
+“Indulge, my son, the cautions of the wise;
+Time shall the truth to sure remembrance bring:
+This garb of poverty belies the king:
+No more. This day our deepest care requires,
+Cautious to act what thought mature inspires.
+If one man’s blood, though mean, distain our hands,
+The homicide retreats to foreign lands;
+By us, in heaps the illustrious peerage falls,
+The important deed our whole attention calls.”
+
+“Be that thy care (Telemachus replies)
+The world conspires to speak Ulysses wise;
+For wisdom all is thine! lo, I obey,
+And dauntless follow where you led the way;
+Nor shalt thou in the day of danger find
+Thy coward son degenerate lag behind.”
+
+“Then instant to the bath (the monarch cries),
+Bid the gay youth and sprightly virgins rise,
+Thence all descend in pomp and proud array,
+And bid the dome resound the mirthful lay;
+While the sweet lyrist airs of rapture sings,
+And forms the dance responsive to the strings,
+That hence the eluded passengers may say,
+‘Lo! the queen weds! we hear the spousal lay!’
+The suitor’s death, unknown, till we remove
+Far from the court, and act inspired by Jove.”
+
+Thus spoke the king: the observant train obey,
+At once they bathe, and dress in proud array:
+The lyrist strikes the string; gay youths advance,
+And fair-zoned damsels form the sprightly dance.
+The voice, attuned to instrumental sounds,
+Ascends the roof, the vaulted roof rebounds;
+Not unobserved: the Greeks eluded say,
+“Lo! the queen weds, we hear the spousal lay!
+Inconstant! to admit the bridal hour.”
+Thus they—but nobly chaste she weds no more.
+
+Meanwhile the wearied king the bath ascends;
+With faithful cares Eurynome attends,
+O’er every limb a shower of fragrance sheds;
+Then, dress’d in pomp, magnificent he treads.
+The warrior-goddess gives his frame to shine
+With majesty enlarged, and grace divine.
+Back from his brows in wavy ringlets fly
+His thick large locks of hyacinthine dye.
+As by some artist to whom Vulcan gives
+His heavenly skill, a breathing image lives;
+By Pallas taught, he frames the wondrous mould,
+And the pale silver glows with fusile gold:
+So Pallas his heroic form improves
+With bloom divine, and like a god he moves!
+More high he treads, and issuing forth in state,
+Radiant before his gazing consort sate.
+“And, O my queen! (he cries) what power above
+Has steel’d that heart, averse to spousal love?
+Canst thou, Penelope, when heaven restores
+Thy lost Ulysses to his native shores,
+Canst thou, O cruel! unconcern’d survey
+Thy lost Ulysses, on this signal day?
+Haste, Euryclea, and despatchful spread
+For me, and me alone, the imperial bed,
+My weary nature craves the balm of rest.
+But Heaven with adamant has arm’d her breast.”
+
+“Ah no! (she cries) a tender heart I bear,
+A foe to pride: no adamant is there;
+And now, e’en now it melts! for sure I see
+Once more Ulysses my beloved in thee!
+Fix’d in my soul, as when he sailed to Troy,
+His image dwells: then haste the bed of joy,
+Haste, from the bridal bower the bed translate,
+Fram’d by his hand, and be it dress’d in state!”
+
+Thus speaks the queen, still dubious, with disguise
+Touch’d at her words, the king with warmth replies
+“Alas for this! what mortal strength can move
+The enormous burden, who but Heaven above?
+It mocks the weak attempts of human hands!
+But the whole earth must move if Heaven commands
+Then hear sure evidence, while we display
+Words seal’d with sacred truth and truth obey:
+This hand the wonder framed; an olive spread
+Full in the court its ever verdant head.
+Vast as some mighty column’s bulk, on high
+The huge trunk rose, and heaved into the sky;
+Around the tree I raised a nuptial bower,
+And roof’d defensive of the storm and shower;
+The spacious valve, with art inwrought conjoins;
+And the fair dome with polished marble shines.
+I lopp’d the branchy head: aloft in twain
+Sever’d the bole, and smoothed the shining grain;
+Then posts, capacious of the frame, I raise,
+And bore it, regular, from space to space:
+Athwart the frame, at equal distance lie
+Thongs of tough hides, that boast a purple dye;
+Then polishing the whole, the finished mould
+With silver shone, with elephant, and gold.
+But if o’erturn’d by rude, ungovern’d hands,
+Or still inviolate the olive stands,
+’Tis thine, O queen, to say, and now impart,
+If fears remain, or doubts distract thy heart.”
+
+While yet he speaks, her powers of life decay;
+She sickens, trembles, falls, and faints away.
+At length recovering, to his arms she flew,
+And strain’d him close, as to his breast she grew.
+The tears pour’d down amain, and “O (she cries)
+Let not against thy spouse thine anger rise!
+O versed in every turn of human art,
+Forgive the weakness of a woman’s heart!
+The righteous powers, that mortal lot dispose,
+Decree us to sustain a length of woes.
+And from the flower of life the bliss deny
+To bloom together, fade away, and die.
+O let me, let me not thine anger move,
+That I forbore, thus, thus to speak my love:
+Thus in fond kisses, while the transport warms
+Pour out my soul and die within thine arms!
+I dreaded fraud! Men, faithless men, betray
+Our easy faith, and make our sex their prey:
+Against the fondness of my heart I strove:
+’Twas caution, O my lord! not want of love.
+Like me had Helen fear’d, with wanton charms
+Ere the fair mischief set two worlds in arms;
+Ere Greece rose dreadful in the avenging day;
+Thus had she fear’d, she had not gone astray.
+But Heaven, averse to Greece, in wrath decreed
+That she should wander, and that Greece should bleed:
+Blind to the ills that from injustice flow,
+She colour’d all our wretched lives with woe.
+But why these sorrows when my lord arrives?
+I yield, I yield! my own Ulysses lives!
+The secrets of the bridal bed are known
+To thee, to me, to Actoris alone
+(My father’s present in the spousal hour,
+The sole attendant on our genial bower).
+Since what no eye hath seen thy tongue reveal’d,
+Hard and distrustful as I am, I yield.”
+
+Touch’d to the soul, the king with rapture hears,
+Hangs round her neck, and speaks his joy in tears.
+As to the shipwreck’d mariner, the shores
+Delightful rise, when angry Neptune roars:
+Then, when the surge in thunder mounts the sky,
+And gulf’d in crowds at once the sailors die;
+If one, more happy, while the tempest raves,
+Outlives the tumult of conflicting waves,
+All pale, with ooze deform’d, he views the strand,
+And plunging forth with transport grasps the land:
+The ravish’d queen with equal rapture glows,
+Clasps her loved lord, and to his bosom grows.
+Nor had they ended till the morning ray,
+But Pallas backward held the rising day,
+The wheels of night retarding, to detain
+The gay Aurora in the wavy main;
+Whose flaming steeds, emerging through the night,
+Beam o’er the eastern hills with streaming light.
+
+At length Ulysses with a sigh replies:
+“Yet Fate, yet cruel Fate repose denies;
+A labour long, and hard, remains behind;
+By heaven above, by hell beneath enjoin’d:
+For to Tiresias through the eternal gates
+Of hell I trode, to learn my future fates.
+But end we here—the night demands repose,
+Be deck’d the couch! and peace awhile, my woes!”
+
+To whom the queen: “Thy word we shall obey,
+And deck the couch; far hence be woes away:
+Since the just gods, who tread the starry plains,
+Restore thee safe, since my Ulysses reigns.
+But what those perils heaven decrees, impart;
+Knowledge may grieve, but fear distracts the heart.”
+
+To this the king: “Ah, why must I disclose
+A dreadful story of approaching woes?
+Why in this hour of transport wound thy ears,
+When thou must learn what I must speak with tears?
+Heaven, by the Theban ghost, thy spouse decrees,
+Torn from thy arms, to sail a length of seas;
+From realm to realm, a nation to explore
+Who ne’er knew salt, or heard the billows roar,
+Nor saw gay vessel storm the surgy plain,
+A painted wonder, flying on the main:
+An oar my hand must bear; a shepherd eyes
+The unknown instrument with strange surprise,
+And calls a corn-van; this upon the plain
+I fix, and hail the monarch of the main;
+Then bathe his altars with the mingled gore
+Of victims vow’d, a ram, a bull, a boar;
+Thence swift re-sailing to my native shores,
+Due victims slay to all the ethereal powers.
+Then Heaven decrees, in peace to end my days
+And steal myself from life by slow decays!
+Unknown to pain, in age resign my breath,
+When late stern Neptune points the shaft of death;
+To the dark grave retiring as to rest;
+My people blessing, by my people bless’d.
+Such future scenes the all-righteous powers display
+By their dread seer, and such my future day.”
+
+To whom thus firm of soul: “If ripe for death,
+And full of days, thou gently yield thy breath;
+While Heaven a kind release from ills foreshows,
+Triumph, thou happy victor of thy woes?”
+
+But Euryclea, with dispatchful care,
+And sage Eurynome, the couch prepare;
+Instant they bid the blazing torch display
+Around the dome and artificial day;
+Then to repose her steps the matron bends,
+And to the queen Eurynome descends;
+A torch she bears, to light with guiding fires
+The royal pair; she guides them, and retires
+The instant his fair spouse Ulysses led
+To the chaste love-rites of the nuptial bed.
+
+And now the blooming youths and sprightly fair
+Cease the gay dance, and to their rest repair;
+But in discourse the king and consort lay,
+While the soft hours stole unperceived away;
+Intent he hears Penelope disclose
+A mournful story of domestic woes,
+His servants’ insults, his invaded bed,
+How his whole flocks and herds exhausted bled,
+His generous wines dishonour’d shed in vain,
+And the wild riots of the suitor-train.
+The king alternate a dire tale relates,
+Of wars, of triumphs, and disastrous fates;
+All he unfolds; his listening spouse turns pale
+With pleasing horror at the dreadful tale;
+Sleepless devours each word; and hears how slain
+Cicons on Cicons swell the ensanguined plain;
+How to the land of Lote unbless’d he sails;
+And images the rills and flowery vales!
+How dash’d like dogs, his friends the Cyclops tore
+(Not unrevenged), and quaff’d the spouting gore;
+How the loud storms in prison bound, he sails
+From friendly Aeolus with prosperous gales:
+Yet fate withstands! a sudden tempest roars,
+And whirls him groaning from his native shores:
+How on the barbarous Laestrigonian coast,
+By savage hands his fleet and friends lie lost;
+How scarce himself survived: he paints the bower,
+The spells of Circe, and her magic power;
+His dreadful journey to the realms beneath,
+To seek Tiresias in the vales of death;
+How in the doleful mansions lie survey’d
+His royal mother, pale Anticlea’s shade;
+And friends in battle slain, heroic ghosts!
+Then how, unharm’d, he pass’d the Syren-coasts,
+The justling rocks where fierce Charybdis raves,
+And howling Scylla whirls her thunderous waves,
+The cave of death! How his companions slay
+The oxen sacred to the god of day.
+Till Jove in wrath the rattling tempest guides,
+And whelms the offenders in the roaring tides:
+How struggling through the surge he reach’d the shores
+Of fair Ogygia and Calypso’s bowers;
+Where the gay blooming nymph constrain’d his stay,
+With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay;
+And promised, vainly promised, to bestow
+Immortal life, exempt from age and woe:
+How saved from storms Phæacia’s coast he trod,
+By great Alcinous honour’d as a god,
+Who gave him last his country to behold,
+With change of raiment, brass, and heaps of gold
+
+He ended, sinking into sleep, and shares
+A sweet forgetfulness of all his cares.
+
+Soon as soft slumber eased the toils of day,
+Minerva rushes through the aërial way,
+And bids Aurora with her golden wheels
+Flame from the ocean o’er the eastern hills;
+Uprose Ulysses from the genial bed,
+And thus with thought mature the monarch said:
+
+“My queen, my consort! through a length of years
+We drank the cup of sorrow mix’d with tears;
+Thou, for thy lord; while me the immortal powers
+Detain’d reluctant from my native shores.
+Now, bless’d again by Heaven, the queen display,
+And rule our palace with an equal sway.
+Be it my care, by loans, or martial toils,
+To throng my empty folds with gifts or spoils.
+But now I haste to bless Laertes’ eyes
+With sight of his Ulysses ere he dies;
+The good old man, to wasting woes a prey,
+Weeps a sad life in solitude away.
+But hear, though wise! This morning shall unfold
+The deathful scene, on heroes heroes roll’d.
+Thou with thy maids within the palace stay,
+From all the scene of tumult far away!”
+
+He spoke, and sheathed in arms incessant flies
+To wake his son, and bid his friends arise.
+“To arms!” aloud he cries; his friends obey,
+With glittering arms their manly limbs array,
+And pass the city gate; Ulysses leads the way.
+Now flames the rosy dawn, but Pallas shrouds
+The latent warriors in a veil of clouds.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK XXIV.
+
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+
+The souls of the suitors are conducted by Mercury to the infernal
+shades. Ulysses in the country goes to the retirement of his father,
+Laertes; he finds him busied in his garden all alone; the manner of his
+discovery to him is beautifully described. They return together to his
+lodge, and the king is acknowledged by Dolius and the servants. The
+Ithacensians, led by Eupithes, the father of Antinous, rise against
+Ulysses, who gives them battle in which Eupithes is killed by Laertes:
+and the goddess Pallas makes a lasting peace between Ulysses and his
+subjects, which concludes the Odyssey.
+
+
+Cyllenius now to Pluto’s dreary reign
+Conveys the dead, a lamentable train!
+The golden wand, that causes sleep to fly,
+Or in soft slumber seals the wakeful eye,
+That drives the ghosts to realms of night or day,
+Points out the long uncomfortable way.
+Trembling the spectres glide, and plaintive vent
+Thin, hollow screams, along the deep descent.
+As in the cavern of some rifted den,
+Where flock nocturnal bats, and birds obscene;
+Cluster’d they hang, till at some sudden shock
+They move, and murmurs run through all the rock!
+So cowering fled the sable heaps of ghosts,
+And such a scream fill’d all the dismal coasts.
+And now they reach’d the earth’s remotest ends,
+And now the gates where evening Sol descends,
+And Leucas’ rock, and Ocean’s utmost streams,
+And now pervade the dusky land of dreams,
+And rest at last, where souls unbodied dwell
+In ever-flowing meads of asphodel.
+The empty forms of men inhabit there,
+Impassive semblance, images of air!
+Naught else are all that shined on earth before:
+Ajax and great Achilles are no more!
+Yet still a master ghost, the rest he awed,
+The rest adored him, towering as he trod;
+Still at his side is Nestor’s son survey’d,
+And loved Patroclus still attends his shade.
+
+New as they were to that infernal shore,
+The suitors stopp’d, and gazed the hero o’er.
+When, moving slow, the regal form they view’d
+Of great Atrides: him in pomp pursued
+And solemn sadness through the gloom of hell,
+The train of those who by AEgysthus fell:
+
+“O mighty chief! (Pelides thus began)
+Honour’d by Jove above the lot of man!
+King of a hundred kings! to whom resign’d
+The strongest, bravest, greatest of mankind
+Comest thou the first, to view this dreary state?
+And was the noblest, the first mark of Fate,
+Condemn’d to pay the great arrear so soon,
+The lot, which all lament, and none can shun!
+Oh! better hadst thou sunk in Trojan ground,
+With all thy full-blown honours cover’d round;
+Then grateful Greece with streaming eyes might raise
+Historic marbles to record thy praise:
+Thy praise eternal on the faithful stone
+Had with transmissive glories graced thy son.
+But heavier fates were destined to attend:
+What man is happy, till he knows his end?”
+
+“O son of Peleus! greater than mankind!
+(Thus Agamemnon’s kingly shade rejoin’d)
+Thrice happy thou, to press the martial plain
+’Midst heaps of heroes in thy quarrel slain:
+In clouds of smoke raised by the noble fray,
+Great and terrific e’en in death you lay,
+And deluges of blood flow’d round you every way.
+Nor ceased the strife till Jove himself opposed,
+And all in Tempests the dire evening closed.
+Then to the fleet we bore thy honour’d load,
+And decent on the funeral bed bestow’d;
+Then unguents sweet and tepid streams we shed;
+Tears flow’d from every eye, and o’er the dead
+Each clipp’d the curling honours of his head.
+Struck at the news, thy azure mother came,
+The sea-green sisters waited on the dame:
+A voice of loud lament through all the main
+Was heard; and terror seized the Grecian train:
+Back to their ships the frighted host had fled;
+But Nestor spoke, they listen’d and obey’d
+(From old experience Nestor’s counsel springs,
+And long vicissitudes of human things):
+‘Forbear your flight: fair Thetis from the main
+To mourn Achilles leads her azure train.’
+Around thee stand the daughters of the deep,
+Robe thee in heavenly vests, and round thee weep:
+Round thee, the Muses, with alternate strain,
+In ever-consecrating verse, complain.
+Each warlike Greek the moving music hears,
+And iron-hearted heroes melt in tears.
+Till seventeen nights and seventeen days return’d
+All that was mortal or immortal mourn’d,
+To flames we gave thee, the succeeding day,
+And fatted sheep and sable oxen slay;
+With oils and honey blazed the augmented fires,
+And, like a god adorn’d, thy earthly part expires.
+Unnumber’d warriors round the burning pile
+Urge the fleet coursers or the racer’s toil;
+Thick clouds of dust o’er all the circle rise,
+And the mix’d clamour thunders in the skies.
+Soon as absorb’d in all-embracing flame
+Sunk what was mortal of thy mighty name,
+We then collect thy snowy bones, and place
+With wines and unguents in a golden vase
+(The vase to Thetis Bacchus gave of old,
+And Vulcan’s art enrich’d the sculptured gold).
+There, we thy relics, great Achilles! blend
+With dear Patroclus, thy departed friend:
+In the same urn a separate space contains
+Thy next beloved, Antilochus’ remains.
+Now all the sons of warlike Greece surround
+Thy destined tomb and cast a mighty mound;
+High on the shore the growing hill we raise,
+That wide the extended Hellespont surveys;
+Where all, from age to age, who pass the coast,
+May point Achilles’ tomb, and hail the mighty ghost.
+Thetis herself to all our peers proclaims
+Heroic prizes and exequial games;
+The gods assented; and around thee lay
+Rich spoils and gifts that blazed against the day.
+Oft have I seen with solemn funeral games
+Heroes and kings committed to the flames;
+But strength of youth, or valour of the brave,
+With nobler contest ne’er renown’d a grave.
+Such were the games by azure Thetis given,
+And such thy honours, O beloved of Heaven!
+Dear to mankind thy fame survives, nor fades
+Its bloom eternal in the Stygian shades.
+But what to me avail my honours gone,
+Successful toils, and battles bravely won?
+Doom’d by stern Jove at home to end my life,
+By cursed Ægysthus, and a faithless wife!”
+Thus they: while Hermes o’er the dreary plain
+Led the sad numbers by Ulysses slain.
+On each majestic form they cast a view,
+And timorous pass’d, and awfully withdrew.
+But Agamemnon, through the gloomy shade,
+His ancient host Amphimedon survey’d:
+“Son of Melanthius! (he began) O say!
+What cause compell’d so many, and so gay,
+To tread the downward, melancholy way?
+Say, could one city yield a troop so fair?
+Were all these partners of one native air?
+Or did the rage of stormy Neptune sweep
+Your lives at once, and whelm beneath the deep?
+Did nightly thieves, or pirates’ cruel bands,
+Drench with your blood your pillaged country’s sands?
+Or well-defending some beleaguer’d wall,
+Say,—for the public did ye greatly fall?
+Inform thy guest: for such I was of yore
+When our triumphant navies touch’d your shore;
+Forced a long month the wintry seas to bear,
+To move the great Ulysses to the war.”
+
+“O king of men! I faithful shall relate
+(Replied Amphimedon) our hapless fate.
+Ulysses absent, our ambitious aim
+With rival loves pursued his royal dame;
+Her coy reserve, and prudence mix’d with pride,
+Our common suit nor granted, nor denied;
+But close with inward hate our deaths design’d;
+Versed in all arts of wily womankind.
+Her hand, laborious, in delusion spread
+A spacious loom, and mix’d the various thread.
+‘Ye peers (she cried) who press to gain my heart,
+Where dead Ulysses claims no more a part,
+Yet a short space your rival suit suspend,
+Till this funereal web my labours end:
+Cease, till to good Laertes I bequeath
+A task of grief, his ornaments of death:
+Lest when the Fates his royal ashes claim,
+The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame;
+Should he, long honour’d with supreme command,
+Want the last duties of a daughter’s hand.’
+
+“The fiction pleased, our generous train complies,
+Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue’s fair disguise.
+The work she plied, but studious of delay,
+Each following night reversed the toils of day.
+Unheard, unseen, three years her arts prevail;
+The fourth, her maid reveal’d the amazing tale,
+And show’d as unperceived we took our stand,
+The backward labours of her faithless hand.
+Forced she completes it; and before us lay
+The mingled web, whose gold and silver ray
+Display’d the radiance of the night and day.
+
+“Just as she finished her illustrious toil,
+Ill fortune led Ulysses to our isle.
+Far in a lonely nook, beside the sea,
+At an old swineherd’s rural lodge he lay:
+Thither his son from sandy Pyle repairs,
+And speedy lands, and secretly confers.
+They plan our future ruin, and resort
+Confederate to the city and the court.
+First came the son; the father next succeeds,
+Clad like a beggar, whom Eumaeus leads;
+Propp’d on a staff, deform’d with age and care,
+And hung with rags that flutter’d in the air.
+Who could Ulysses in that form behold?
+Scorn’d by the young, forgotten by the old,
+Ill-used by all! to every wrong resigned,
+Patient he suffered with a constant mind.
+But when, arising in his wrath to obey
+The will of Jove, he gave the vengeance way:
+The scattered arms that hung around the dome
+Careful he treasured in a private room;
+Then to her suitors bade his queen propose
+The archer’s strife, the source of future woes,
+And omen of our death! In vain we drew
+The twanging string, and tried the stubborn yew:
+To none it yields but great Ulysses’ hands;
+In vain we threat; Telemachus commands:
+The bow he snatch’d, and in an instant bent;
+Through every ring the victor arrow went.
+Fierce on the threshold then in arms he stood;
+Poured forth the darts that thirsted for our blood,
+And frown’d before us, dreadful as a god!
+First bleeds Antinous: thick the shafts resound,
+And heaps on heaps the wretches strew the ground;
+This way, and that, we turn, we fly, we fall;
+Some god assisted, and unmann’d us all;
+Ignoble cries precede the dying groans;
+And battered brains and blood besmear the stones.
+
+“Thus, great Atrides, thus Ulysses drove
+The shades thou seest from yon fair realms above;
+Our mangled bodies now deformed with gore,
+Cold and neglected, spread the marble floor.
+No friend to bathe our wounds, or tears to shed
+O’er the pale corse! the honours of the dead.”
+
+“Oh bless’d Ulysses! (thus the king express’d
+His sudden rapture) in thy consort bless’d!
+Not more thy wisdom than her virtue shined;
+Not more thy patience than her constant mind.
+Icarius’ daughter, glory of the past,
+And model to the future age, shall last:
+The gods, to honour her fair fame, shall rise
+(Their great reward) a poet in her praise.
+Not such, O Tyndarus! thy daughter’s deed,
+By whose dire hand her king and husband bled;
+Her shall the Muse to infamy prolong,
+Example dread, and theme of tragic song!
+The general sex shall suffer in her shame,
+And e’en the best that bears a woman’s name.”
+
+Thus in the regions of eternal shade
+Conferr’d the mournful phantoms of the dead;
+While from the town, Ulysses and his band
+Pass’d to Laertes’ cultivated land.
+The ground himself had purchased with his pain,
+And labour made the rugged soil a plain,
+There stood his mansion of the rural sort,
+With useful buildings round the lowly court;
+Where the few servants that divide his care
+Took their laborious rest, and homely fare;
+And one Sicilian matron, old and sage,
+With constant duty tends his drooping age.
+
+Here now arriving, to his rustic band
+And martial son, Ulysses gave command:
+“Enter the house, and of the bristly swine
+Select the largest to the powers divine.
+Alone, and unattended, let me try
+If yet I share the old man’s memory:
+If those dim eyes can yet Ulysses know
+(Their light and dearest object long ago),
+Now changed with time, with absence and with woe.”
+Then to his train he gives his spear and shield;
+The house they enter; and he seeks the field,
+Through rows of shade, with various fruitage crown’d,
+And labour’d scenes of richest verdure round.
+Nor aged Dolius; nor his sons, were there,
+Nor servants, absent on another care;
+To search the woods for sets of flowery thorn,
+Their orchard bounds to strengthen and adorn.
+
+But all alone the hoary king he found;
+His habit course, but warmly wrapp’d around;
+His head, that bow’d with many a pensive care,
+Fenced with a double cap of goatskin hair:
+His buskins old, in former service torn,
+But swell repair’d; and gloves against the thorn.
+In this array the kingly gardener stood,
+And clear’d a plant, encumber’d with its wood.
+
+Beneath a neighbouring tree, the chief divine
+Gazed o’er his sire, retracing every line,
+The ruins of himself, now worn away
+With age, yet still majestic in decay!
+Sudden his eyes released their watery store;
+The much-enduring man could bear no more.
+Doubtful he stood, if instant to embrace
+His aged limbs, to kiss his reverend face,
+With eager transport to disclose the whole,
+And pour at once the torrent of his soul.—
+Not so: his judgment takes the winding way
+Of question distant, and of soft essay;
+More gentle methods on weak age employs:
+And moves the sorrows to enhance the joys.
+Then, to his sire with beating heart he moves,
+And with a tender pleasantry reproves;
+Who digging round the plant still hangs his bead,
+Nor aught remits the work, while thus he said:
+
+“Great is thy skill, O father! great thy toil,
+Thy careful hand is stamp’d on all the soil,
+Thy squadron’d vineyards well thy art declare,
+The olive green, blue fig, and pendent pear;
+And not one empty spot escapes thy care.
+On every plant and tree thy cares are shown,
+Nothing neglected, but thyself alone.
+Forgive me, father, if this fault I blame;
+Age so advanced, may some indulgence claim.
+Not for thy sloth, I deem thy lord unkind:
+Nor speaks thy form a mean or servile mind;
+I read a monarch in that princely air,
+The same thy aspect, if the same thy care;
+Soft sleep, fair garments, and the joys of wine,
+These are the rights of age, and should be thine.
+Who then thy master, say? and whose the land
+So dress’d and managed by thy skilful hand?
+But chief, oh tell me! (what I question most)
+Is this the far-famed Ithacensian coast?
+For so reported the first man I view’d
+(Some surly islander, of manners rude),
+Nor farther conference vouchsafed to stay;
+Heedless he whistled, and pursued his way.
+But thou whom years have taught to understand,
+Humanely hear, and answer my demand:
+A friend I seek, a wise one and a brave:
+Say, lives he yet, or moulders in the grave?
+Time was (my fortunes then were at the best)
+When at my house I lodged this foreign guest;
+He said, from Ithaca’s fair isle he came,
+And old Laertes was his father’s name.
+To him, whatever to a guest is owed
+I paid, and hospitable gifts bestow’d:
+To him seven talents of pure ore I told,
+Twelve cloaks, twelve vests, twelve tunics stiff with gold:
+A bowl, that rich with polish’d silver flames,
+And skill’d in female works, four lovely dames.”
+
+At this the father, with a father’s fears
+(His venerable eyes bedimm’d with tears):
+“This is the land; but ah! thy gifts are lost,
+For godless men, and rude possess the coast:
+Sunk is the glory of this once-famed shore!
+Thy ancient friend, O stranger, is no more!
+Full recompense thy bounty else had borne:
+For every good man yields a just return:
+So civil rights demand; and who begins
+The track of friendship, not pursuing, sins.
+But tell me, stranger, be the truth confess’d,
+What years have circled since thou saw’st that guest?
+That hapless guest, alas! for ever gone!
+Wretch that he was! and that I am! my son!
+If ever man to misery was born,
+’Twas his to suffer, and ’tis mine to mourn!
+Far from his friends, and from his native reign,
+He lies a prey to monsters of the main;
+Or savage beasts his mangled relics tear,
+Or screaming vultures scatter through the air:
+Nor could his mother funeral unguents shed;
+Nor wail’d his father o’er the untimely dead:
+Nor his sad consort, on the mournful bier,
+Seal’d his cold eyes, or dropp’d a tender tear!
+
+“But, tell me who thou art? and what thy race?
+Thy town, thy parents, and thy native place?
+Or, if a merchant in pursuit of gain,
+What port received thy vessel from the main?
+Or comest thou single, or attend thy train?”
+
+Then thus the son: “From Alybas I came,
+My palace there; Eperitus my name
+Not vulgar born: from Aphidas, the king
+Of Polyphemon’s royal line, I spring.
+Some adverse demon from Sicania bore
+Our wandering course, and drove us on your shore;
+Far from the town, an unfrequented bay
+Relieved our wearied vessel from the sea.
+Five years have circled since these eyes pursued
+Ulysses parting through the sable flood:
+Prosperous he sail’d, with dexter auguries,
+And all the wing’d good omens of the skies.
+Well hoped we then to meet on this fair shore,
+Whom Heaven, alas! decreed to meet no more.”
+
+Quick through the father’s heart these accents ran;
+Grief seized at once, and wrapp’d up all the man:
+Deep from his soul he sigh’d, and sorrowing spread
+A cloud of ashes on his hoary head.
+Trembling with agonies of strong delight
+Stood the great son, heart-wounded with the sight:
+He ran, he seized him with a strict embrace,
+With thousand kisses wander’d o’er his face:
+“I, I am he; O father, rise! behold
+Thy son, with twenty winters now grown old;
+Thy son, so long desired, so long detain’d,
+Restored, and breathing in his native land:
+These floods of sorrow, O my sire, restrain!
+The vengeance is complete; the suitor train,
+Stretch’d in our palace, by these hands lie slain.”
+
+Amazed, Laertes: “Give some certain sign
+(If such thou art) to manifest thee mine.”
+
+“Lo here the wound (he cries) received of yore,
+The scar indented by the tusky boar,
+When, by thyself, and by Anticlea sent,
+To old Autolycus’ realms I went.
+Yet by another sign thy offspring know;
+The several trees you gave me long ago,
+While yet a child, these fields I loved to trace,
+And trod thy footsteps with unequal pace;
+To every plant in order as we came,
+Well-pleased, you told its nature and its name,
+Whate’er my childish fancy ask’d, bestow’d:
+Twelve pear-trees, bowing with their pendent load,
+And ten, that red with blushing apples glow’d;
+Full fifty purple figs; and many a row
+Of various vines that then began to blow,
+A future vintage! when the Hours produce
+Their latent buds, and Sol exalts the juice.”
+
+Smit with the signs which all his doubts explain,
+His heart within him melts; his knees sustain
+Their feeble weight no more: his arms alone
+Support him, round the loved Ulysses thrown;
+He faints, he sinks, with mighty joys oppress’d:
+Ulysses clasps him to his eager breast.
+Soon as returning life regains its seat,
+And his breath lengthens, and his pulses beat:
+“Yes, I believe (he cries) almighty Jove!
+Heaven rules us yet, and gods there are above.
+’Tis so—the suitors for their wrongs have paid—
+But what shall guard us, if the town invade?
+If, while the news through every city flies,
+All Ithaca and Cephalenia rise?”
+To this Ulysses: “As the gods shall please
+Be all the rest: and set thy soul at ease.
+Haste to the cottage by this orchard’s side,
+And take the banquet which our cares provide;
+There wait thy faithful band of rural friends,
+And there the young Telemachus attends.”
+
+Thus, having said, they traced the garden o’er
+And stooping entered at the lowly door.
+The swains and young Telemachus they found.
+The victim portion’d and the goblet crown’d.
+The hoary king, his old Sicilian maid
+Perfum’d and wash’d, and gorgeously arrayed.
+Pallas attending gives his frame to shine
+With awful port, and majesty divine;
+His gazing son admires the godlike grace,
+And air celestial dawning o’er his face.
+“What god (he cried) my father’s form improves!
+How high he treads and how enlarged he moves!”
+
+“Oh! would to all the deathless powers on high,
+Pallas and Jove, and him who gilds the sky!
+(Replied the king elated with his praise)
+My strength were still, as once in better days:
+When the bold Cephalens the leaguer form’d.
+And proud Nericus trembled as I storm’d.
+Such were I now, not absent from your deed
+When the last sun beheld the suitors bleed,
+This arm had aided yours, this hand bestrown
+Our shores with death, and push’d the slaughter on;
+Nor had the sire been separate from the son.”
+
+They communed thus; while homeward bent their way
+The swains, fatigued with labours of the day:
+Dolius, the first, the venerable man;
+And next his sons, a long succeeding train.
+For due refection to the bower they came,
+Call’d by the careful old Sicilian dame,
+Who nursed the children, and now tends the sire,
+They see their lord, they gaze, and they admire.
+On chairs and beds in order seated round,
+They share the gladsome board; the roofs resound,
+While thus Ulysses to his ancient friend:
+“Forbear your wonder, and the feast attend:
+The rites have waited long.” The chief commands
+Their love in vain; old Dolius spreads his hands,
+Springs to his master with a warm embrace,
+And fastens kisses on his hands and face;
+Then thus broke out: “O long, O daily mourn’d!
+Beyond our hopes, and to our wish return’d!
+Conducted sure by Heaven! for Heaven alone
+Could work this wonder: welcome to thy own!
+And joys and happiness attend thy throne!
+Who knows thy bless’d, thy wish’d return? oh say,
+To the chaste queen shall we the news convey?
+Or hears she, and with blessings loads the day?”
+
+“Dismiss that care, for to the royal bride
+Already is it known” (the king replied,
+And straight resumed his seat); while round him bows
+Each faithful youth, and breathes out ardent vows:
+Then all beneath their father take their place,
+Rank’d by their ages, and the banquet grace.
+
+Now flying Fame the swift report had spread
+Through all the city, of the suitors dead,
+In throngs they rise, and to the palace crowd;
+Their sighs were many and the tumult loud.
+Weeping they bear the mangled heaps of slain;
+Inhume the natives in their native plain,
+The rest in ships are wafted o’er the main.
+Then sad in council all the seniors sate,
+Frequent and full, assembled to debate:
+Amid the circle first Eupithes rose,
+Big was his eye with tears, his heart with woes:
+The bold Antinous was his age’s pride,
+The first who by Ulysses’ arrow died.
+Down his wan cheek the trickling torrent ran,
+As mixing words with sighs he thus began:
+
+“Great deeds, O friends! this wondrous man has wrought,
+And mighty blessings to his country brought!
+With ships he parted, and a numerous train,
+Those, and their ships, he buried in the main.
+Now he returns, and first essays his hand
+In the best blood of all his native land.
+Haste, then, and ere to neighbouring Pyle he flies,
+Or sacred Elis, to procure supplies;
+Arise (or ye for ever fall), arise!
+Shame to this age, and all that shall succeed!
+If unrevenged your sons and brothers bleed.
+Prove that we live, by vengeance on his head,
+Or sink at once forgotten with the dead.”
+Here ceased he, but indignant tears let fall
+Spoke when he ceased: dumb sorrow touch’d them all.
+When from the palace to the wondering throng
+Sage Medon came, and Phemius came along
+(Restless and early sleep’s soft bands they broke);
+And Medon first the assembled chiefs bespoke;
+
+“Hear me, ye peers and elders of the land,
+Who deem this act the work of mortal hand;
+As o’er the heaps of death Ulysses strode,
+These eyes, these eyes beheld a present god,
+Who now before him, now beside him stood,
+Fought as he fought, and mark’d his way with blood:
+In vain old Mentor’s form the god belied;
+’Twas Heaven that struck, and Heaven was on his side.”
+
+A sudden horror all the assembly shook,
+When slowly rising, Halitherses spoke
+(Reverend and wise, whose comprehensive view
+At once the present and the future knew):
+“Me too, ye fathers, hear! from you proceed
+The ills ye mourn; your own the guilty deed.
+Ye gave your sons, your lawless sons, the rein
+(Oft warn’d by Mentor and myself in vain);
+An absent hero’s bed they sought to soil,
+An absent hero’s wealth they made their spoil;
+Immoderate riot, and intemperate lust!
+The offence was great, the punishment was just.
+Weigh then my counsels in an equal scale,
+Nor rush to ruin. Justice will prevail.”
+
+His moderate words some better minds persuade:
+They part, and join him: but the number stay’d.
+They storm, they shout, with hasty frenzy fired,
+And second all Eupithes’ rage inspired.
+They case their limbs in brass; to arms they run;
+The broad effulgence blazes in the sun.
+Before the city, and in ample plain,
+They meet: Eupithes heads the frantic train.
+Fierce for his son, he breathes his threats in air;
+Fate bears them not, and Death attends him there.
+
+This pass’d on earth, while in the realms above
+Minerva thus to cloud-compelling Jove!
+“May I presume to search thy secret soul?
+O Power Supreme, O Ruler of the whole!
+Say, hast thou doom’d to this divided state
+Or peaceful amity or stern debate?
+Declare thy purpose, for thy will is fate.”
+
+“Is not thy thought my own? (the god replies
+Who rolls the thunder o’er the vaulted skies;)
+Hath not long since thy knowing soul decreed
+The chief’s return should make the guilty bleed.
+’Tis done, and at thy will the Fates succeed.
+Yet hear the issue: Since Ulysses’ hand
+Has slain the suitors, Heaven shall bless the land.
+None now the kindred of the unjust shall own;
+Forgot the slaughter’d brother and the son:
+Each future day increase of wealth shall bring,
+And o’er the past Oblivion stretch her wing.
+Long shall Ulysses in his empire rest,
+His people blessing, by his people bless’d.
+Let all be peace.”—He said, and gave the nod
+That binds the Fates; the sanction of the god
+And prompt to execute the eternal will,
+Descended Pallas from the Olympian hill.
+
+Now sat Ulysses at the rural feast
+The rage of hunger and of thirst repress’d:
+To watch the foe a trusty spy he sent:
+A son of Dolius on the message went,
+Stood in the way, and at a glance beheld
+The foe approach, embattled on the field.
+With backward step he hastens to the bower,
+And tells the news. They arm with all their power.
+Four friends alone Ulysses’ cause embrace,
+And six were all the sons of Dolius’ race:
+Old Dolius too his rusted arms put on;
+And, still more old, in arms Laertes shone.
+Trembling with warmth, the hoary heroes stand,
+And brazen panoply invests the band.
+The opening gates at once their war display:
+Fierce they rush forth: Ulysses leads the way.
+That moment joins them with celestial aid,
+In Mentor’s form, the Jove-descended maid:
+The suffering hero felt his patient breast
+Swell with new joy, and thus his son address’d:
+
+“Behold, Telemachus! (nor fear the sight,)
+The brave embattled, the grim front of fight!
+The valiant with the valiant must contend.
+Shame not the line whence glorious you descend.
+Wide o’er the world their martial fame was spread;
+Regard thyself, the living and the dead.”
+
+“Thy eyes, great father! on this battle cast,
+Shall learn from me Penelope was chaste.”
+
+So spoke Telemachus: the gallant boy
+Good old Laertes heard with panting joy.
+“And bless’d! thrice bless’d this happy day! (he cries,)
+The day that shows me, ere I close my eyes,
+A son and grandson of the Arcesian name
+Strive for fair virtue, and contest for fame!”
+
+Then thus Minerva in Laertes’ ear:
+“Son of Arcesius, reverend warrior, hear!
+Jove and Jove’s daughter first implore in prayer,
+Then, whirling high, discharge thy lance in air.”
+She said, infusing courage with the word.
+Jove and Jove’s daughter then the chief implored,
+And, whirling high, dismiss’d the lance in air.
+Full at Eupithes drove the deathful spear:
+The brass-cheek’d helmet opens to the wound;
+He falls, earth thunders, and his arms resound.
+Before the father and the conquering son
+Heaps rush on heaps, they fight, they drop, they run
+Now by the sword, and now the javelin, fall
+The rebel race, and death had swallow’d all;
+But from on high the blue-eyed virgin cried;
+Her awful voice detain’d the headlong tide:
+“Forbear, ye nations, your mad hands forbear
+From mutual slaughter; Peace descends to spare.”
+Fear shook the nations: at the voice divine
+They drop their javelins, and their rage resign.
+All scatter’d round their glittering weapons lie;
+Some fall to earth, and some confusedly fly.
+With dreadful shouts Ulysses pour’d along,
+Swift as an eagle, as an eagle strong.
+But Jove’s red arm the burning thunder aims:
+Before Minerva shot the livid flames;
+Blazing they fell, and at her feet expired;
+Then stopped the goddess, trembled and retired.
+
+“Descended from the gods! Ulysses, cease;
+Offend not Jove: obey, and give the peace.”
+
+So Pallas spoke: the mandate from above
+The king obey’d. The virgin-seed of Jove,
+In Mentor’s form, confirm’d the full accord,
+And willing nations knew their lawful lord.
+
+
+
+
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+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" />
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Odyssey, by Homer</title>
+<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
+<style type="text/css">
+
+body { margin-left: 20%;
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+
+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Odyssey, by Homer</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Odyssey</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Homer</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Translator: Alexander Pope</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April, 2002 [eBook #3160]<br />
+[Most recently updated: July 18, 2021]</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Jim Tinsley, Distributed Proofers and David Widger</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ODYSSEY ***</div>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="cover" /><br/><br/>
+</div>
+
+<h1>The Odyssey</h1>
+
+<h2>by Homer</h2>
+
+<h4>Translated by Alexander Pope</h4>
+<hr />
+
+<h3>Contents</h3>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto">
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#pref01">INTRODUCTION.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap00">THE ODYSSEY OF HOMER</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap01">BOOK I.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap02">BOOK II.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap03">BOOK III.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap04">BOOK IV.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap05">BOOK V.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap06">BOOK VI.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap07">BOOK VII.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap08">BOOK VIII.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap09">BOOK IX.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap10">BOOK X.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap11">BOOK XI.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap12">BOOK XII.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap13">BOOK XIII.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap14">BOOK XIV.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap15">BOOK XV.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap16">BOOK XVI.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap17">BOOK XVII.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap18">BOOK XVIII.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap19">BOOK XIX.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap20">BOOK XX.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap21">BOOK XXI.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap22">BOOK XXII.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap23">BOOK XXIII.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap24">BOOK XXIV.</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+</table>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="pref01"></a>INTRODUCTION.</h2>
+
+<p>
+Scepticism is as much the result of knowledge, as knowledge is of scepticism.
+To be content with what we at present know, is, for the most part, to shut our
+ears against conviction; since, from the very gradual character of our
+education, we must continually forget, and emancipate ourselves from, knowledge
+previously acquired; we must set aside old notions and embrace fresh ones; and,
+as we learn, we must be daily unlearning something which it has cost us no
+small labour and anxiety to acquire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And this difficulty attaches itself more closely to an age in which progress
+has gained a strong ascendency over prejudice, and in which persons and things
+are, day by day, finding their real level, in lieu of their conventional value.
+The same principles which have swept away traditional abuses, and which are
+making rapid havoc among the revenues of sinecurists, and stripping the thin,
+tawdry veil from attractive superstitions, are working as actively in
+literature as in society. The credulity of one writer, or the partiality of
+another, finds as powerful a touchstone and as wholesome a chastisement in the
+healthy scepticism of a temperate class of antagonists, as the dreams of
+conservatism, or the impostures of pluralist sinecures in the Church. History
+and tradition, whether of ancient or comparatively recent times, are subjected
+to very different handling from that which the indulgence or credulity of
+former ages could allow. Mere statements are jealously watched, and the motives
+of the writer form as important an ingredient in the analysis of his history,
+as the facts he records. Probability is a powerful and troublesome test; and it
+is by this troublesome standard that a large portion of historical evidence is
+sifted. Consistency is no less pertinacious and exacting in its demands. In
+brief, to write a history, we must know more than mere facts. Human nature,
+viewed under an introduction of extended experience, is the best help to the
+criticism of human history. Historical characters can only be estimated by the
+standard which human experience, whether actual or traditionary, has furnished.
+To form correct views of individuals we must regard them as forming parts of a
+great whole&mdash;we must measure them by their relation to the mass of beings
+by whom they are surrounded; and, in contemplating the incidents in their lives
+or condition which tradition has handed down to us, we must rather consider the
+general bearing of the whole narrative, than the respective probability of its
+details.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is unfortunate for us, that, of some of the greatest men, we know least, and
+talk most. Homer, Socrates, and Shakespere have, perhaps, contributed more to
+the intellectual enlightenment of mankind than any other three writers who
+could be named, and yet the history of all three has given rise to a boundless
+ocean of discussion, which has left us little save the option of choosing which
+theory or theories we will follow. The personality of Shakespere is, perhaps,
+the only thing in which critics will allow us to believe without controversy;
+but upon everything else, even down to the authorship of plays, there is more
+or less of doubt and uncertainty. Of Socrates we know as little as the
+contradictions of Plato and Xenophon will allow us to know. He was one of the
+<i>dramatis personæ</i> in two dramas as unlike in principles as in style. He
+appears as the enunciator of opinions as different in their tone as those of
+the writers who have handed them down. When we have read Plato <i>or</i>
+Xenophon, we think we know something of Socrates; when we have fairly read and
+examined both, we feel convinced that we are something worse than ignorant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It has been an easy, and a popular expedient of late years, to deny the
+personal or real existence of men and things whose life and condition were too
+much for our belief. This system&mdash;which has often comforted the religious
+sceptic, and substituted the consolations of Strauss for those of the New
+Testament&mdash;has been of incalculable value to the historical theorists of
+the last and present centuries. To question the existence of Alexander the
+Great, would be a more excusable act, than to believe in that of Romulus. To
+deny a fact related in Herodotus, because it is inconsistent with a theory
+developed from an Assyrian inscription which no two scholars read in the same
+way, is more pardonable, than to believe in the good-natured old king whom the
+elegant pen of Florian has idealized&mdash;<i>Numa Pompilius</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Scepticism has attained its culminating point with respect to Homer, and the
+state of our Homeric knowledge may be described as a free permission to believe
+any theory, provided we throw overboard all written tradition, concerning the
+author or authors of the Iliad and Odyssey. What few authorities exist on the
+subject, are summarily dismissed, although the arguments appear to run in a
+circle. &ldquo;This cannot be true, because it is not true; and that is not
+true, because it cannot be true.&rdquo; Such seems to be the style, in which
+testimony upon testimony, statement upon statement, is consigned to denial and
+oblivion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is, however, unfortunate that the professed biographies of Homer are partly
+forgeries, partly freaks of ingenuity and imagination, in which truth is the
+requisite most wanting. Before taking a brief review of the Homeric theory in
+its present conditions, some notice must be taken of the treatise on the Life
+of Homer which has been attributed to Herodotus.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+According to this document, the city of Cumae in AEolia was, at an early
+period, the seat of frequent immigrations from various parts of Greece. Among
+the immigrants was Menapolus, the son of Ithagenes. Although poor, he married,
+and the result of the union was a girl named Critheis. The girl was left an
+orphan at an early age, under the guardianship of Cleanax, of Argos. It is to
+the indiscretion of this maiden that we &ldquo;are indebted for so much
+happiness.&rdquo; Homer was the first fruit of her juvenile frailty, and
+received the name of Melesigenes from having been born near the river Meles in
+Bœotia, whither Critheis had been transported in order to save her reputation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;At this time,&rdquo; continues our narrative, &ldquo;there lived at
+Smyrna a man named Phemius, a teacher of literature and music, who, not being
+married, engaged Critheis to manage his household, and spin the flax he
+received as the price of his scholastic labours. So satisfactory was her
+performance of this task, and so modest her conduct, that he made proposals of
+marriage, declaring himself, as a further inducement, willing to adopt her son,
+who, he asserted, would become a clever man, if he were carefully brought
+up.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were married; careful cultivation ripened the talents which nature had
+bestowed, and Melesigenes soon surpassed his schoolfellows in every attainment,
+and, when older, rivalled his preceptor in wisdom. Phemius died, leaving him
+sole heir to his property, and his mother soon followed. Melesigenes carried on
+his adopted father&rsquo;s school with great success, exciting the admiration
+not only of the inhabitants of Smyrna, but also of the strangers whom the trade
+carried on there, especially in the exportation of corn, attracted to that
+city. Among these visitors, one Mentes, from Leucadia, the modern Santa Maura,
+who evinced a knowledge and intelligence rarely found in those times, persuaded
+Melesigenes to close his school, and accompany him on his travels. He promised
+not only to pay his expenses, but to furnish him with a further stipend,
+urging, that, &ldquo;While he was yet young, it was fitting that he should see
+with his own eyes the countries and cities which might hereafter be the
+subjects of his discourses.&rdquo; Melesigenes consented, and set out with his
+patron, &ldquo;examining all the curiosities of the countries they visited, and
+informing himself of everything by interrogating those whom he met.&rdquo; We
+may also suppose, that he wrote memoirs of all that he deemed worthy of
+preservation. Having set sail from Tyrrhenia and Iberia, they reached Ithaca.
+Here Melesigenes, who had already suffered in his eyes, became much worse; and
+Mentes, who was about to leave for Leucadia, left him to the medical
+superintendence of a friend of his, named Mentor, the son of Alcinor. Under his
+hospitable and intelligent host, Melesigenes rapidly became acquainted with the
+legends respecting Ulysses, which afterwards formed the subject of the Odyssey.
+The inhabitants of Ithaca assert, that it was here that Melesigenes became
+blind, but the Colophonians make their city the seat of that misfortune. He
+then returned to Smyrna, where he applied himself to the study of poetry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But poverty soon drove him to Cumae. Having passed over the Hermaean plain, he
+arrived at Neon Teichos, the New Wall, a colony of Cumae. Here his misfortunes
+and poetical talent gained him the friendship of one Tychias, an armourer.
+&ldquo;And up to my time,&rdquo; continues the author, &ldquo;the inhabitants
+showed the place where he used to sit when giving a recitation of his verses;
+and they greatly honoured the spot. Here also a poplar grew, which they said
+had sprung up ever since Melesigenes arrived.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But poverty still drove him on, and he went by way of Larissa, as being the
+most convenient road. Here, the Cumans say, he composed an epitaph on Gordius,
+king of Phrygia, which has however, and with greater probability, been
+attributed to Cleobulus of Lindus.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arrived at Cumae, he frequented the <i>conversaziones</i> of the old men, and
+delighted all by the charms of his poetry. Encouraged by this favourable
+reception, he declared that, if they would allow him a public maintenance, he
+would render their city most gloriously renowned. They avowed their willingness
+to support him in the measure he proposed, and procured him an audience in the
+council. Having made the speech, with the purport of which our author has
+forgotten to acquaint us, he retired, and left them to debate respecting the
+answer to be given to his proposal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The greater part of the assembly seemed favourable to the poet&rsquo;s demand,
+but one man &ldquo;observed that if they were to feed <i>Homers</i>, they would
+be encumbered with a multitude of useless people.&rdquo; &ldquo;From this
+circumstance,&rdquo; says the writer, &ldquo;Melesigenes acquired the name of
+Homer, for the Cumans call blind men <i>Homers</i>.&rdquo; With a love of
+economy, which shows how similar the world has always been in its treatment of
+literary men, the pension was denied, and the poet vented his disappointment in
+a wish that Cumae might never produce a poet capable of giving it renown and
+glory.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At Phocaea Homer was destined to experience another literary distress. One
+Thestorides, who aimed at the reputation of poetical genius, kept Homer in his
+own house, and allowed him a pittance, on condition of the verses of the poet
+passing in his name. Having collected sufficient poetry to be profitable,
+Thestorides, like some would-be literary publishers, neglected the man whose
+brains he had sucked, and left him. At his departure, Homer is said to have
+observed: &ldquo;O Thestorides, of the many things hidden from the knowledge of
+man, nothing is more unintelligible than the human heart.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Homer continued his career of difficulty and distress, until some Chian
+merchants, struck by the similarity of the verses they heard him recite,
+acquainted him with the fact that Thestorides was pursuing a profitable
+livelihood by the recital of the very same poems. This at once determined him
+to set out for Chios. No vessel happened then to be setting sail thither, but
+he found one ready to start for Erythrae, a town of Ionia, which faces that
+island, and he prevailed upon the seamen to allow him to accompany them. Having
+embarked, he invoked a favourable wind, and prayed that he might be able to
+expose the imposture of Thestorides, who, by his breach of hospitality, had
+drawn down the wrath of Jove the Hospitable.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At Erythrae, Homer fortunately met with a person who had known him in Phocaea,
+by whose assistance he at length, after some difficulty, reached the little
+hamlet of Pithys. Here he met with an adventure, which we will continue in the
+words of our author. &ldquo;Having set out from Pithys, Homer went on,
+attracted by the cries of some goats that were pasturing. The dogs barked on
+his approach, and he cried out. Glaucus (for that was the name of the
+goat-herd) heard his voice, ran up quickly, called off his dogs, and drove them
+away from Homer. For some time he stood wondering how a blind man should have
+reached such a place alone, and what could be his design in coming. He then
+went up to him and inquired who he was, and how he had come to desolate places
+and untrodden spots, and of what he stood in need. Homer, by recounting to him
+the whole history of his misfortunes, moved him with compassion; and he took
+him and led him to his cot, and, having lit a fire, bade him sup.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The dogs, instead of eating, kept barking at the stranger, according to
+their usual habit. Whereupon Homer addressed Glaucus thus: O Glaucus, my
+friend, prythee attend to my behest. First give the dogs their supper at the
+doors of the hut: for so it is better, since, whilst they watch, nor thief nor
+wild beast will approach the fold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Glaucus was pleased with the advice and marvelled at its author. Having
+finished supper, they banqueted afresh on conversation, Homer narrating his
+wanderings, and telling of the cities he had visited.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;At length they retired to rest; but on the following morning, Glaucus
+resolved to go to his master, and acquaint him with his meeting with Homer.
+Having left the goats in charge of a fellow-servant, he left Homer at home,
+promising to return quickly. Having arrived at Bolissus, a place near the farm,
+and finding his mate, he told him the whole story respecting Homer and his
+journey. He paid little attention to what he said, and blamed Glaucus for his
+stupidity in taking in and feeding maimed and enfeebled persons. However, he
+bade him bring the stranger to him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Glaucus told Homer what had taken place, and bade him follow him,
+assuring him that good fortune would be the result. Conversation soon showed
+that the stranger was a man of much cleverness and general knowledge, and the
+Chian persuaded him to remain, and to undertake the charge of his
+children.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Besides the satisfaction of driving the impostor Thestorides from the island,
+Homer enjoyed considerable success as a teacher. In the town of Chios he
+established a school, where he taught the precepts of poetry. &ldquo;To this
+day,&rdquo; says Chandler, &ldquo;the most curious remain is that which has
+been named, without reason, the School of Homer. It is on the coast, at some
+distance from the city, northward, and appears to have been an open temple of
+Cybele, formed on the top of a rock. The shape is oval, and in the centre is
+the image of the goddess, the head and an arm wanting. She is represented, as
+usual, sitting. The chair has a lion carved on each side, and on the back. The
+area is bounded by a low rim, or seat, and about five yards over. The whole is
+hewn out of the mountain, is rude, indistinct, and probably of the most remote
+antiquity.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So successful was this school, that Homer realised a considerable fortune. He
+married, and had two daughters, one of whom died single, the other married a
+Chian.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The following passage betrays the same tendency to connect the personages of
+the poems with the history of the poet, which has already been
+mentioned:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;In his poetical compositions Homer displays great gratitude towards
+Mentor of Ithaca, in the Odyssey, whose name he has inserted in his poem as the
+companion of Ulysses, in return for the care taken of him when afflicted with
+blindness. He also testifies his gratitude to Phemius, who had given him both
+sustenance and instruction.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His celebrity continued to increase, and many persons advised him to visit
+Greece whither his reputation had now extended. Having, it is said, made some
+additions to his poems calculated to please the vanity of the Athenians, of
+whose city he had hitherto made no mention, he set out for Samos. Here, being
+recognized by a Samian, who had met with him in Chios, he was handsomely
+received, and invited to join in celebrating the Apaturian festival. He recited
+some verses, which gave great satisfaction, and by singing the Eiresione at the
+New Moon festivals, he earned a subsistence, visiting the houses of the rich,
+with whose children he was very popular.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the spring he sailed for Athens, and arrived at the island of Ios, now Ino,
+where he fell extremely ill, and died. It is said that his death arose from
+vexation, at not having been able to unravel an enigma proposed by some
+fishermen&rsquo;s children.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Such is, in brief, the substance of the earliest life of Homer we possess, and
+so broad are the evidences of its historical worthlessness, that it is scarcely
+necessary to point them out in detail. Let us now consider some of the opinions
+to which a persevering, patient, and learned&mdash;but by no means
+consistent&mdash;series of investigations has led. In doing so, I profess to
+bring forward statements, not to vouch for their reasonableness or probability.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Homer appeared. The history of this poet and his works is lost in
+doubtful obscurity, as is the history of many of the first minds who have done
+honour to humanity, because they rose amidst darkness. The majestic stream of
+his song, blessing and fertilizing, flows like the Nile, through many lands and
+nations; and, like the sources of the Nile, its fountains will ever remain
+concealed.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Such are the words in which one of the most judicious German critics has
+eloquently described the uncertainty in which the whole of the Homeric question
+is involved. With no less truth and feeling he proceeds:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It seems here of chief importance to expect no more than the nature of
+things makes possible. If the period of tradition in history is the region of
+twilight, we should not expect in it perfect light. The creations of genius
+always seem like miracles, because they are, for the most part, created far out
+of the reach of observation. If we were in possession of all the historical
+testimonies, we never could wholly explain the origin of the Iliad and the
+Odyssey; for their origin, in all essential points, must have remained the
+secret of the poet.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From this criticism, which shows as much insight into the depths of human
+nature as into the minute wire-drawings of scholastic investigation, let us
+pass on to the main question at issue. Was Homer an individual? or were the
+Iliad and Odyssey the result of an ingenious arrangement of fragments by
+earlier poets?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well has Landor remarked: &ldquo;Some tell us there were twenty Homers; some
+deny that there was ever one. It were idle and foolish to shake the contents of
+a vase, in order to let them settle at last. We are perpetually labouring to
+destroy our delights, our composure, our devotion to superior power. Of all the
+animals on earth we least know what is good for us. My opinion is, that what is
+best for us is our admiration of good. No man living venerates Homer more than
+I do.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But, greatly as we admire the generous enthusiasm which rests contented with
+the poetry on which its best impulses had been nurtured and fostered, without
+seeking to destroy the vividness of first impressions by minute analysis, our
+editorial office compels us to give some attention to the doubts and
+difficulties with which the Homeric question is beset, and to entreat our
+reader, for a brief period, to prefer his judgment to his imagination, and to
+condescend to dry details. Before, however, entering into particulars
+respecting the question of this unity of the Homeric poems, (at least of the
+Iliad,) I must express my sympathy with the sentiments expressed in the
+following remarks:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We cannot but think the universal admiration of its unity by the better,
+the poetic age of Greece, almost conclusive testimony to its original
+composition. It was not till the age of the grammarians that its primitive
+integrity was called in question; nor is it injustice to assert, that the
+minute and analytical spirit of a grammarian is not the best qualification for
+the profound feeling, the comprehensive conception of an harmonious whole. The
+most exquisite anatomist may be no judge of the symmetry of the human frame;
+and we would take the opinion of Chantrey or Westmacott on the proportions and
+general beauty of a form, rather than that of Mr. Brodie or Sir Astley Cooper.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There is some truth, though some malicious exaggeration, in the lines of
+Pope:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;&lsquo;The critic eye&mdash;that microscope of wit&mdash;<br/>
+Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit;<br/>
+How parts relate to parts, or they to whole.<br/>
+The body&rsquo;s harmony, the beaming soul,<br/>
+Are things which Kuster, Burmann, Wasse, shall see,<br/>
+When man&rsquo;s whole frame is obvious to a flea.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Long was the time which elapsed before any one dreamt of questioning the unity
+of the authorship of the Homeric poems. The grave and cautious Thucydides
+quoted without hesitation the Hymn to Apollo, the authenticity of which has
+been already disclaimed by modern critics. Longinus, in an oft-quoted passage,
+merely expressed an opinion touching the comparative inferiority of the Odyssey
+to the Iliad; and, among a mass of ancient authors, whose very names it would
+be tedious to detail, no suspicion of the personal non-existence of Homer ever
+arose. So far, the voice of antiquity seems to be in favour of our early ideas
+on the subject: let us now see what are the discoveries to which more modern
+investigations lay claim.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the end of the seventeenth century, doubts had begun to awaken on the
+subject, and we find Bentley remarking that &ldquo;Homer wrote a sequel of
+songs and rhapsodies, to be sung by himself, for small comings and good cheer,
+at festivals and other days of merriment. These loose songs were not collected
+together, in the form of an epic poem, till about Peisistratus&rsquo; time,
+about five hundred years after.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two French writers&mdash;Hedelin and Perrault&mdash;avowed a similar scepticism
+on the subject; but it is in the &ldquo;Scienza Nuova&rdquo; of Battista Vico,
+that we first meet with the germ of the theory, subsequently defended by Wolf
+with so much learning and acuteness. Indeed, it is with the Wolfian theory that
+we have chiefly to deal, and with the following bold hypothesis, which we will
+detail in the words of Grote:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Half a century ago, the acute and valuable Prolegomena of F. A. Wolf,
+turning to account the Venetian Scholia, which had then been recently
+published, first opened philosophical discussion as to the history of the
+Homeric text. A considerable part of that dissertation (though by no means the
+whole) is employed in vindicating the position, previously announced by
+Bentley, amongst others, that the separate constituent portions of the Iliad
+and Odyssey had not been cemented together into any compact body and
+unchangeable order, until the days of Peisistratus, in the sixth century before
+Christ. As a step towards that conclusion, Wolf maintained that no written
+copies of either poem could be shown to have existed during the earlier times,
+to which their composition is referred; and that without writing, neither the
+perfect symmetry of so complicated a work could have been originally conceived
+by any poet, nor, if realized by him, transmitted with assurance to posterity.
+The absence of easy and convenient writing, such as must be indispensably
+supposed for long manuscripts, among the early Greeks, was thus one of the
+points in Wolf&rsquo;s case against the primitive integrity of the Iliad and
+Odyssey. By Nitzsch, and other leading opponents of Wolf, the connection of the
+one with the other seems to have been accepted as he originally put it; and it
+has been considered incumbent on those who defended the ancient aggregate
+character of the Iliad and Odyssey, to maintain that they were written poems
+from the beginning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;To me it appears, that the architectonic functions ascribed by Wolf to
+Peisistratus and his associates, in reference to the Homeric poems, are nowise
+admissible. But much would undoubtedly be gained towards that view of the
+question, if it could be shown, that, in order to controvert it, we were driven
+to the necessity of admitting long written poems, in the ninth century before
+the Christian aera. Few things, in my opinion, can be more improbable; and Mr.
+Payne Knight, opposed as he is to the Wolfian hypothesis, admits this no less
+than Wolf himself. The traces of writing in Greece, even in the seventh century
+before the Christian aera, are exceedingly trifling. We have no remaining
+inscription earlier than the fortieth Olympiad, and the early inscriptions are
+rude and unskilfully executed; nor can we even assure ourselves whether
+Archilochus, Simonides of Amorgus, Kallinus Tyrtaeus, Xanthus, and the other
+early elegiac and lyric poets, committed their compositions to writing, or at
+what time the practice of doing so became familiar. The first positive ground
+which authorizes us to presume the existence of a manuscript of Homer, is in
+the famous ordinance of Solon, with regard to the rhapsodies at the
+Panathenaea: but for what length of time previously manuscripts had existed, we
+are unable to say.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Those who maintain the Homeric poems to have been written from the
+beginning, rest their case, not upon positive proofs, nor yet upon the existing
+habits of society with regard to poetry&mdash;for they admit generally that the
+Iliad and Odyssey were not read, but recited and heard,&mdash;but upon the
+supposed necessity that there must have been manuscripts to ensure the
+preservation of the poems&mdash;the unassisted memory of reciters being neither
+sufficient nor trustworthy. But here we only escape a smaller difficulty by
+running into a greater; for the existence of trained bards, gifted with
+extraordinary memory, is far less astonishing than that of long manuscripts, in
+an age essentially non-reading and non-writing, and when even suitable
+instruments and materials for the process are not obvious. Moreover, there is a
+strong positive reason for believing that the bard was under no necessity of
+refreshing his memory by consulting a manuscript; for if such had been the
+fact, blindness would have been a disqualification for the profession, which we
+know that it was not, as well from the example of Demodokus, in the Odyssey, as
+from that of the blind bard of Chios, in the Hymn to the Delian Apollo, whom
+Thucydides, as well as the general tenor of Grecian legend, identifies with
+Homer himself. The author of that hymn, be he who he may, could never have
+described a blind man as attaining the utmost perfection in his art, if he had
+been conscious that the memory of the bard was only maintained by constant
+reference to the manuscript in his chest.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The loss of the digamma, that <i>crux</i> of critics, that quicksand upon which
+even the acumen of Bentley was shipwrecked, seems to prove beyond a doubt, that
+the pronunciation of the Greek language had undergone a considerable change.
+Now it is certainly difficult to suppose that the Homeric poems could have
+suffered by this change, had written copies been preserved. If Chaucer&rsquo;s
+poetry, for instance, had not been written, it could only have come down to us
+in a softened form, more like the effeminate version of Dryden, than the rough,
+quaint, noble original.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;At what period,&rdquo; continues Grote, &ldquo;these poems, or indeed
+any other Greek poems, first began to be written, must be matter of conjecture,
+though there is ground for assurance that it was before the time of Solon. If,
+in the absence of evidence, we may venture upon naming any more determinate
+period, the question at once suggests itself, What were the purposes which, in
+that state of society, a manuscript at its first commencement must have been
+intended to answer? For whom was a written Iliad necessary? Not for the
+rhapsodes; for with them it was not only planted in the memory, but also
+interwoven with the feelings, and conceived in conjunction with all those
+flexions and intonations of voice, pauses, and other oral artifices which were
+required for emphatic delivery, and which the naked manuscript could never
+reproduce. Not for the general public&mdash;they were accustomed to receive it
+with its rhapsodic delivery, and with its accompaniments of a solemn and
+crowded festival. The only persons for whom the written Iliad would be suitable
+would be a select few; studious and curious men; a class of readers capable of
+analyzing the complicated emotions which they had experienced as hearers in the
+crowd, and who would, on perusing the written words, realize in their
+imaginations a sensible portion of the impression communicated by the reciter.
+Incredible as the statement may seem in an age like the present, there is in
+all early societies, and there was in early Greece, a time when no such reading
+class existed. If we could discover at what time such a class first began to be
+formed, we should be able to make a guess at the time when the old epic poems
+were first committed to writing. Now the period which may with the greatest
+probability be fixed upon as having first witnessed the formation even of the
+narrowest reading class in Greece, is the middle of the seventh century before
+the Christian aera (B.C. 660 to B.C. 630), the age of Terpander, Kallinus,
+Archilochus, Simenides of Amorgus, &amp;c. I ground this supposition on the
+change then operated in the character and tendencies of Grecian poetry and
+music&mdash;the elegiac and the iambic measures having been introduced as
+rivals to the primitive hexameter, and poetical compositions having been
+transferred from the epical past to the affairs of present and real life. Such
+a change was important at a time when poetry was the only known mode of
+publication (to use a modern phrase not altogether suitable, yet the nearest
+approaching to the sense). It argued a new way of looking at the old epical
+treasures of the people, as well as a thirst for new poetical effect; and the
+men who stood forward in it may well be considered as desirous to study, and
+competent to criticize, from their own individual point of view, the written
+words of the Homeric rhapsodies, just as we are told that Kallinus both noticed
+and eulogized the Thebais as the production of Homer. There seems, therefore,
+ground for conjecturing that (for the use of this newly-formed and important,
+but very narrow class), manuscripts of the Homeric poems and other old
+epics,&mdash;the Thebais and the Cypria, as well as the Iliad and the
+Odyssey,&mdash;began to be compiled towards the middle of the seventh century
+B.C.; and the opening of Egypt to Grecian commerce, which took place about
+the same period, would furnish increased facilities for obtaining the requisite
+papyrus to write upon. A reading class, when once formed, would doubtless
+slowly increase, and the number of manuscripts along with it: so that before
+the time of Solon, fifty years afterwards, both readers and manuscripts, though
+still comparatively few, might have attained a certain recognized authority,
+and formed a tribunal of reference against the carelessness of individual
+rhapsodies.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But even Peisistratus has not been suffered to remain in possession of the
+credit, and we cannot help feeling the force of the following
+observations:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are several incidental circumstances which, in our opinion, throw
+some suspicion over the whole history of the Peisistratid compilation, at least
+over the theory that the Iliad was cast into its present stately and harmonious
+form by the directions of the Athenian ruler. If the great poets, who
+flourished at the bright period of Grecian song, of which, alas! we have
+inherited little more than the fame, and the faint echo; if Stesichorus,
+Anacreon, and Simonides were employed in the noble task of compiling the Iliad
+and Odyssey, so much must have been done to arrange, to connect, to harmonize,
+that it is almost incredible that stronger marks of Athenian manufacture should
+not remain. Whatever occasional anomalies may be detected, anomalies which no
+doubt arise out of our own ignorance of the language of the Homeric age;
+however the irregular use of the digamma may have perplexed our Bentleys, to
+whom the name of Helen is said to have caused as much disquiet and distress as
+the fair one herself among the heroes of her age; however Mr. Knight may have
+failed in reducing the Homeric language to its primitive form; however,
+finally, the Attic dialect may not have assumed all its more marked and
+distinguishing characteristics:&mdash;still it is difficult to suppose that the
+language, particularly in the joinings and transitions, and connecting parts,
+should not more clearly betray the incongruity between the more ancient and
+modern forms of expression. It is not quite in character with such a period to
+imitate an antique style, in order to piece out an imperfect poem in the
+character of the original, as Sir Walter Scott has done in his continuation of
+Sir Tristram.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If, however, not even such faint and indistinct traces of Athenian
+compilation are discoverable in the language of the poems, the total absence of
+Athenian national feeling is perhaps no less worthy of observation. In later,
+and it may fairly be suspected in earlier times, the Athenians were more than
+ordinarily jealous of the fame of their ancestors. But, amid all the traditions
+of the glories of early Greece embodied in the Iliad, the Athenians play a most
+subordinate and insignificant part. Even the few passages which relate to their
+ancestors, Mr. Knight suspects to be interpolations. It is possible, indeed,
+that in its leading outline, the Iliad may be true to historic fact; that in
+the great maritime expedition of western Greece against the rival and
+half-kindred empire of the Laomedontiadae, the chieftain of Thessaly, from his
+valour and the number of his forces, may have been the most important ally of
+the Peloponnesian sovereign: the pre-eminent value of the ancient poetry on the
+Trojan war may thus have forced the national feeling of the Athenians to yield
+to their taste. The songs which spoke of their own great ancestor were, no
+doubt, of far inferior sublimity and popularity, or, at first sight, a Theseid
+would have been much more likely to have emanated from an Athenian synod of
+compilers of ancient song, than an Achilleid or an Odysseid. Could France have
+given birth to a Tasso, Tancred would have been the hero of the Jerusalem. If,
+however, the Homeric ballads, as they are sometimes called, which related the
+wrath of Achilles, with all its direful consequences, were so far superior to
+the rest of the poetic cycle, as to admit no rivalry,&mdash;it is still
+surprising, that throughout the whole poem the <i>callida junctura</i> should
+never betray the workmanship of an Athenian hand; and that the national spirit
+of a race, who have at a later period not inaptly been compared to our
+self-admiring neighbours, the French, should submit with lofty self-denial to
+the almost total exclusion of their own ancestors&mdash;or, at least, to the
+questionable dignity of only having produced a leader tolerably skilled in the
+military tactics of his age.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To return to the Wolfian theory. While it is to be confessed, that Wolf&rsquo;s
+objections to the primitive integrity of the Iliad and Odyssey have never been
+wholly got over, we cannot help discovering that they have failed to enlighten
+us as to any substantial point, and that the difficulties with which the whole
+subject is beset, are rather augmented than otherwise, if we admit his
+hypothesis. Nor is Lachmann&rsquo;s modification of his theory any better. He
+divides the first twenty-two books of the Iliad into sixteen different songs,
+and treats as ridiculous the belief that their amalgamation into one regular
+poem belongs to a period earlier than the age of Peisistratus. This as Grote
+observes, &ldquo;ex-plains the gaps and contradictions in the narrative, but it
+explains nothing else.&rdquo; Moreover, we find no contradictions warranting
+this belief, and the so-called sixteen poets concur in getting rid of the
+following leading men in the first battle after the secession of Achilles:
+Elphenor, chief of the Euboeans; Tlepolemus, of the Rhodians; Pandarus, of the
+Lycians; Odins, of the Halizonians: Pirous and Acamas, of the Thracians. None
+of these heroes again make their appearance, and we can but agree with Colonel
+Mure, that &ldquo;it seems strange that any number of independent poets should
+have so harmoniously dispensed with the services of all six in the
+sequel.&rdquo; The discrepancy, by which Pylaemenes, who is represented as dead
+in the fifth book, weeps at his son&rsquo;s funeral in the thirteenth, can only
+be regarded as the result of an interpolation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Grote, although not very distinct in stating his own opinions on the subject,
+has done much to clearly show the incongruity of the Wolfian theory, and of
+Lachmann&rsquo;s modifications, with the character of Peisistratus. But he has
+also shown, and we think with equal success, that the two questions relative to
+the primitive unity of these poems, or, supposing that impossible, the unison
+of these parts by Peisistratus, and not before his time, are essentially
+distinct. In short, &ldquo;a man may believe the Iliad to have been put
+together out of pre-existing songs, without recognising the age of Peisistratus
+as the period of its first compilation.&rdquo; The friends or literary
+<i>employés</i> of Peisistratus must have found an Iliad that was already
+ancient, and the silence of the Alexandrine critics respecting the Peisistratic
+&ldquo;recension,&rdquo; goes far to prove, that, among the numerous
+manuscripts they examined, this was either wanting, or thought unworthy of
+attention.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Moreover,&rdquo; he continues, &ldquo;the whole tenor of the poems
+themselves confirms what is here remarked. There is nothing, either in the
+Iliad or Odyssey, which savours of modernism, applying that term to the age of
+Peisistratus&mdash;nothing which brings to our view the alterations brought
+about by two centuries, in the Greek language, the coined money, the habits of
+writing and reading, the despotisms and republican governments, the close
+military array, the improved construction of ships, the Amphiktyonic
+convocations, the mutual frequentation of religious festivals, the Oriental and
+Egyptian veins of religion, &amp;c., familiar to the latter epoch. These
+alterations Onomakritus, and the other literary friends of Peisistratus, could
+hardly have failed to notice, even without design, had they then, for the first
+time, undertaken the task of piecing together many self-existent epics into one
+large aggregate. Everything in the two great Homeric poems, both in substance
+and in language, belongs to an age two or three centuries earlier than
+Peisistratus. Indeed, even the interpolations (or those passages which, on the
+best grounds, are pronounced to be such) betray no trace of the sixth century
+before Christ, and may well have been heard by Archilochus and
+Kallinus&mdash;in some cases even by Arktinus and Hesiod&mdash;as genuine
+Homeric matter. As far as the evidences on the case, as well internal as
+external, enable us to judge, we seem warranted in believing that the Iliad and
+Odyssey were recited substantially as they now stand (always allowing for
+partial divergences of text and interpolations) in 776 B.C., our first
+trustworthy mark of Grecian time; and this ancient date, let it be added, as it
+is the best-authenticated fact, so it is also the most important attribute of
+the Homeric poems, considered in reference to Grecian history; for they thus
+afford us an insight into the anti-historical character of the Greeks, enabling
+us to trace the subsequent forward march of the nation, and to seize
+instructive contrasts between their former and their later condition.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the whole, I am inclined to believe, that the labours of Peisistratus were
+wholly of an editorial character, although I must confess that I can lay down
+nothing respecting the extent of his labours. At the same time, so far from
+believing that the composition or primary arrangement of these poems, in their
+present form, was the work of Peisistratus, I am rather persuaded that the fine
+taste and elegant, mind of that Athenian would lead him to preserve an ancient
+and traditional order of the poems, rather than to patch and reconstruct them
+according to a fanciful hypothesis. I will not repeat the many discussions
+respecting whether the poems were written or not, or whether the art of writing
+was known in the time of their reputed author. Suffice it to say, that the more
+we read, the less satisfied we are upon either subject.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I cannot, however, help thinking, that the story which attributes the
+preservation of these poems to Lycurgus, is little else than a version of the
+same story as that of Peisistratus, while its historical probability must be
+measured by that of many others relating to the Spartan Confucius.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I will conclude this sketch of the Homeric theories with an attempt, made by an
+ingenious friend, to unite them into something like consistency. It is as
+follows:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No doubt the common soldiers of that age had, like the common sailors of
+some fifty years ago, some one qualified to &lsquo;discourse in excellent
+music&rsquo; among them. Many of these, like those of the negroes in the United
+States, were extemporaneous, and allusive to events passing around them. But
+what was passing around them? The grand events of a spirit-stirring war;
+occurrences likely to impress themselves, as the mystical legends of former
+times had done, upon their memory; besides which, a retentive memory was deemed
+a virtue of the first water, and was cultivated accordingly in those ancient
+times. Ballads at first, and down to the beginning of the war with Troy, were
+merely recitations, with an intonation. Then followed a species of recitative,
+probably with an intoned burden. Tune next followed, as it aided the memory
+considerably.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was at this period, about four hundred years after the war, that a
+poet flourished of the name of Melesigenes, or Moeonides, but most probably the
+former. He saw that these ballads might be made of great utility to his purpose
+of writing a poem on the social position of Hellas, and, as a collection, he
+published these lays connecting them by a tale of his own. This poem now
+exists, under the title of the &lsquo;Odyssea.&rsquo; The author, however, did
+not affix his own name to the poem, which, in fact, was, great part of it,
+remodelled from the archaic dialect of Crete, in which tongue the ballads were
+found by him. He therefore called it the poem of Homeros, or the Collector; but
+this is rather a proof of his modesty and talent, than of his mere drudging
+arrangement of other people&rsquo;s ideas; for, as Grote has finely observed,
+arguing for the unity of authorship, &lsquo;a great poet might have re-cast
+pre-existing separate songs into one comprehensive whole; but no mere arrangers
+or compilers would be competent to do so.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;While employed on the wild legend of Odysseus, he met with a ballad,
+recording the quarrel of Achilles and Agamemnon. His noble mind seized the hint
+that there presented itself, and the Achilleis grew under his hand. Unity of
+design, however, caused him to publish the poem under the same pseudonyme as
+his former work; and the disjointed lays of the ancient bards were joined
+together, like those relating to the Cid, into a chronicle history, named the
+Iliad. Melesigenes knew that the poem was destined to be a lasting one, and so
+it has proved; but, first, the poems were destined to undergo many vicissitudes
+and corruptions, by the people who took to singing them in the streets,
+assemblies, and agoras. However, Solon first, and then Peisistratus, and
+afterwards Aristoteles and others, revised the poems, and restored the works of
+Melesigenes Homeros to their original integrity in a great measure.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having thus given some general notion of the strange theories which have
+developed themselves respecting this most interesting subject, I must still
+express my conviction as to the unity of the authorship of the Homeric poems.
+To deny that many corruptions and interpolations disfigure them, and that the
+intrusive hand of the poetasters may here and there have inflicted a wound more
+serious than the negligence of the copyist, would be an absurd and captious
+assumption; but it is to a higher criticism that we must appeal, if we would
+either understand or enjoy these poems. In maintaining the authenticity and
+personality of their one author, be he Homer or Melesigenes, <i>quocunque
+nomine vocari eum jus fasque sit</i>, I feel conscious that, while the whole
+weight of historical evidence is against the hypothesis which would assign
+these great works to a plurality of authors, the most powerful internal
+evidence, and that which springs from the deepest and most immediate impulse of
+the soul, also speaks eloquently to the contrary.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The minutiae of verbal criticism I am far from seeking to despise. Indeed,
+considering the character of some of my own books, such an attempt would be
+gross inconsistency. But, while I appreciate its importance in a philological
+view, I am inclined to set little store on its aesthetic value, especially in
+poetry. Three parts of the emendations made upon poets are mere alterations,
+some of which, had they been suggested to the author by his Maecenas or
+Africanus, he would probably have adopted. Moreover, those who are most exact
+in laying down rules of verbal criticism and interpretation, are often least
+competent to carry out their own precepts. Grammarians are not poets by
+profession, but may be so <i>per accidens</i>. I do not at this moment remember
+two emendations on Homer, calculated to substantially improve the poetry of a
+passage, although a mass of remarks, from Herodotus down to Loewe, have given
+us the history of a thousand minute points, without which our Greek knowledge
+would be gloomy and jejune.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But it is not on words only that grammarians, mere grammarians, will exercise
+their elaborate and often tiresome ingenuity. Binding down an heroic or
+dramatic poet to the block upon which they have previously dissected his words
+and sentences, they proceed to use the axe and the pruning knife by wholesale;
+and, inconsistent in everything but their wish to make out a case of unlawful
+affiliation, they cut out book after book, passage after passage, till the
+author is reduced to a collection of fragments, or till those who fancied they
+possessed the works of some great man, find that they have been put off with a
+vile counterfeit got up at second hand. If we compare the theories of Knight,
+Wolf, Lachmann; and others, we shall feel better satisfied of the utter
+uncertainty of criticism than of the apocryphal position of Homer. One rejects
+what another considers the turning-point of his theory. One cuts a supposed
+knot by expunging what another would explain by omitting something else.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nor is this morbid species of sagacity by any means to be looked upon as a
+literary novelty. Justus Lipsius, a scholar of no ordinary skill, seems to
+revel in the imaginary discovery, that the tragedies attributed to Seneca are
+by <i>four</i> different authors. Now, I will venture to assert, that these
+tragedies are so uniform, not only in their borrowed phraseology&mdash;a
+phraseology with which writers like Boethius and Saxo Grammaticus were more
+charmed than ourselves&mdash;in their freedom from real poetry, and last, but
+not least, in an ultra-refined and consistent abandonment of good taste, that
+few writers of the present day would question the capabilities of the same
+gentleman, be he Seneca or not, to produce not only these, but a great many
+more equally bad. With equal sagacity, Father Hardouin astonished the world
+with the startling announcement that the AEneid of Virgil, and the satires of
+Horace, were literary deceptions. Now, without wishing to say one word of
+disrespect against the industry and learning&mdash;nay, the refined
+acuteness&mdash;which scholars like Wolf have bestowed upon this subject, I
+must express my fears, that many of our modern Homeric theories will become
+matter for the surprise and entertainment, rather than the instruction, of
+posterity. Nor can I help thinking that the literary history of more recent
+times will account for many points of difficulty in the transmission of the
+Iliad and Odyssey to a period so remote from that of their first creation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have already expressed my belief that the labours of Peisistratus were of a
+purely editorial character; and there seems no more reason why corrupt and
+imperfect editions of Homer may not have been abroad in his day, than that the
+poems of Valerius Flaccus and Tibullus should have given so much trouble to
+Poggio, Scaliger, and others. But, after all, the main fault in all the Homeric
+theories is, that they demand too great a sacrifice of those feelings to which
+poetry most powerfully appeals, and which are its most fitting judges. The
+ingenuity which has sought to rob us of the name and existence of Homer, does
+too much violence to that inward emotion, which makes our whole soul yearn with
+love and admiration for the blind bard of Chios. To believe the author of the
+Iliad a mere compiler, is to degrade the powers of human invention; to elevate
+analytical judgment at the expense of the most ennobling impulses of the soul;
+and to forget the ocean in the contemplation of a polypus. There is a
+catholicity, so to speak, in the very name of Homer. Our faith in the author of
+the Iliad may be a mistaken one, but as yet nobody has taught us a better.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While, however, I look upon the belief in Homer as one that has nature herself
+for its mainspring; while I can join with old Ennius in believing in Homer as
+the ghost, who, like some patron saint, hovers round the bed of the poet, and
+even bestows rare gifts from that wealth of imagination which a host of
+imitators could not exhaust,&mdash;still I am far from wishing to deny that the
+author of these great poems found a rich fund of tradition, a well-stocked
+mythical storehouse, from whence he might derive both subject and
+embellishment. But it is one thing to <i>use</i> existing romances in the
+embellishment of a poem, another to patch up the poem itself from such
+materials. What consistency of style and execution can be hoped for from such
+an attempt? or, rather, what bad taste and tedium will not be the infallible
+result?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A blending of popular legends, and a free use of the songs of other bards, are
+features perfectly consistent with poetical originality. In fact, the most
+original writer is still drawing upon outward impressions&mdash;nay, even his
+own thoughts are a kind of secondary agents which support and feed the impulses
+of imagination. But unless there be some grand pervading principle&mdash;some
+invisible, yet most distinctly stamped archetypus of the great whole, a poem
+like the Iliad can never come to the birth. Traditions the most picturesque,
+episodes the most pathetic, local associations teeming with the thoughts of
+gods and great men, may crowd in one mighty vision, or reveal themselves in
+more substantial forms to the mind of the poet; but, except the power to create
+a grand whole, to which these shall be but as details and embellishments, be
+present, we shall have nought but a scrap-book, a parterre filled with flowers
+and weeds strangling each other in their wild redundancy; we shall have a cento
+of rags and tatters, which will require little acuteness to detect.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sensible as I am of the difficulty of disproving a negative, and aware as I
+must be of the weighty grounds there are for opposing my belief, it still seems
+to me that the Homeric question is one that is reserved for a higher criticism
+than it has often obtained. We are not by nature intended to know all things;
+still less, to compass the powers by which the greatest blessings of life have
+been placed at our disposal. Were faith no virtue, then we might indeed wonder
+why God willed our ignorance on any matter. But we are too well taught the
+contrary lesson; and it seems as though our faith should be especially tried,
+touching the men and the events which have wrought most influence upon the
+condition of humanity. And there is a kind of sacredness attached to the memory
+of the great and the good, which seems to bid us repulse the scepticism which
+would allegorize their existence into a pleasing apologue, and measure the
+giants of intellect by an homaeopathic dynameter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Long and habitual reading of Homer appears to familiarize our thoughts even to
+his incongruities; or rather, if we read in a right spirit and with a heartfelt
+appreciation, we are too much dazzled, too deeply wrapped in admiration of the
+whole, to dwell upon the minute spots which mere analysis can discover. In
+reading an heroic poem, we must transform ourselves into heroes of the time
+being, we in imagination must fight over the same battles, woo the same loves,
+burn with the same sense of injury, as an Achilles or a Hector. And if we can
+but attain this degree of enthusiasm (and less enthusiasm will scarcely suffice
+for the reading of Homer), we shall feel that the poems of Homer are not only
+the work of one writer, but of the greatest writer that ever touched the hearts
+of men by the power of song.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And it was this supposed unity of authorship which gave these poems their
+powerful influence over the minds of the men of old. Heeren, who is evidently
+little disposed in favour of modern theories, finely observes:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It was Homer who formed the character of the Greek nation. No poet has
+ever, as a poet, exercised a similar influence over his countrymen. Prophets,
+lawgivers, and sages have formed the character of other nations; it was
+reserved to a poet to form that of the Greeks. This is a feature in their
+character which was not wholly erased even in the period of their degeneracy.
+When lawgivers and sages appeared in Greece, the work of the poet had already
+been accomplished; and they paid homage to his superior genius. He held up
+before his nation the mirror in which they were to behold the world of gods and
+heroes, no less than of feeble mortals, and to behold them reflected with
+purity and truth. His poems are founded on the first feeling of human nature;
+on the love of children, wife, and country; on that passion which outweighs all
+others, the love of glory. His songs were poured forth from a breast which
+sympathized with all the feelings of man; and therefore they enter, and will
+continue to enter, every breast which cherishes the same sympathies. If it is
+granted to his immortal spirit, from another heaven than any of which he
+dreamed on earth, to look down on his race, to see the nations from the fields
+of Asia, to the forests of Hercynia, performing pilgrimages to the fountain
+which his magic wand caused to flow; if it is permitted to him to view the vast
+assemblage of grand, of elevated, of glorious productions, which had been
+called into being by means of his songs; wherever his immortal spirit may
+reside, this alone would suffice to complete his happiness.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Can we contemplate that ancient monument, on which the &ldquo;Apotheosis of
+Homer&rdquo; is depictured, and not feel how much of pleasing association, how
+much that appeals most forcibly and most distinctly to our minds, is lost by
+the admittance of any theory but our old tradition? The more we read, and the
+more we think&mdash;think as becomes the readers of Homer,&mdash;the more
+rooted becomes the conviction that the Father of Poetry gave us this rich
+inheritance, whole and entire. Whatever were the means of its preservation, let
+us rather be thankful for the treasury of taste and eloquence thus laid open to
+our use, than seek to make it a mere centre around which to drive a series of
+theories, whose wildness is only equalled by their inconsistency with each
+other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As the hymns, and some other poems usually ascribed to Homer, are not included
+in Pope&rsquo;s translation, I will content myself with a brief account of the
+Battle of the Frogs and Mice, from the pen of a writer who has done it full
+justice:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;This poem,&rdquo; says Coleridge, &ldquo;is a short mock-heroic of
+ancient date. The text varies in different editions, and is obviously disturbed
+and corrupt to a great degree; it is commonly said to have been a juvenile
+essay of Homer&rsquo;s genius; others have attributed it to the same Pigrees
+mentioned above, and whose reputation for humour seems to have invited the
+appropriation of any piece of ancient wit, the author of which was uncertain;
+so little did the Greeks, before the age of the Ptolemies, know or care about
+that department of criticism employed in determining the genuineness of ancient
+writings. As to this little poem being a youthful prolusion of Homer, it seems
+sufficient to say that from the beginning to the end, it is a plain and
+palpable parody, not only of the general spirit, but of numerous passages of
+the Iliad itself; and, even if no such intention to parody were discernible in
+it, the objection would still remain, that to suppose a work of mere burlesque
+to be the primary effort of poetry in a simple age, seems to reverse that order
+in the development of national taste, which the history of every other people
+in Europe, and of many in Asia, has almost ascertained to be a law of the human
+mind; it is in a state of society much more refined and permanent than that
+described in the Iliad, that any popularity would attend such a ridicule of war
+and the gods as is contained in this poem; and the fact of there having existed
+three other poems of the same kind attributed, for aught we can see, with as
+much reason to Homer, is a strong inducement to believe that none of them were
+of the Homeric age. Knight infers from the usage of the word
+&#948;&#8050;&#955;&#964;&#959;&#962;, &lsquo;writing tablet,&rsquo; instead of
+&#948;&#953;&#966;&#952;&#8051;&#961;&#945;, &lsquo;skin,&rsquo; which,
+according to Herod 5, 58, was the material employed by the Asiatic Greeks for
+that purpose, that this poem was another offspring of Attic ingenuity; and
+generally that the familiar mention of the cock (v. 191) is a strong argument
+against so ancient a date for its composition.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having thus given a brief account of the poems comprised in Pope&rsquo;s
+design, I will now proceed to make a few remarks on his translation, and on my
+own purpose in the present edition.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pope was not a Grecian. His whole education had been irregular, and his
+earliest acquaintance with the poet was through the version of Ogilby. It is
+not too much to say that his whole work bears the impress of a disposition to
+be satisfied with the general sense, rather than to dive deeply into the minute
+and delicate features of language. Hence his whole work is to be looked upon
+rather as an elegant paraphrase than a translation. There are, to be sure,
+certain conventional anecdotes, which prove that Pope consulted various
+friends, whose classical attainments were sounder than his own, during the
+undertaking; but it is probable that these examinations were the result rather
+of the contradictory versions already existing, than of a desire to make a
+perfect transcript of the original. And in those days, what is called literal
+translation was less cultivated than at present. If something like the general
+sense could be decorated with the easy gracefulness of a practised poet; if the
+charms of metrical cadence and a pleasing fluency could be made consistent with
+a fair interpretation of the poet&rsquo;s meaning, his words were less
+jealously sought for, and those who could read so good a poem as Pope&rsquo;s
+Iliad had fair reason to be satisfied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It would be absurd, therefore, to test Pope&rsquo;s translation by our own
+advancing knowledge of the original text. We must be content to look at it as a
+most delightful work in itself,&mdash;a work which is as much a part of English
+literature as Homer himself is of Greek. We must not be torn from our kindly
+associations with the old Iliad, that once was our most cherished companion, or
+our most looked-for prize, merely because Buttmann, Loewe, and Liddell have
+made us so much more accurate as to
+&#7936;&#956;&#966;&#953;&#954;&#8059;&#960;&#949;&#955;&#955;&#959;&#957;
+being an adjective, and not a substantive. Far be it from us to defend the
+faults of Pope, especially when we think of Chapman&rsquo;s fine, bold, rough
+old English;&mdash;far be it from us to hold up his translation as what a
+translation of Homer <i>might</i> be. But we can still dismiss Pope&rsquo;s
+Iliad to the hands of our readers, with the consciousness that they must have
+read a very great number of books before they have read its fellow.
+</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+THEODORE ALOIS BUCKLEY.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<i>Christ Church.</i>
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap00"></a>THE ODYSSEY OF HOMER.</h2>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap01"></a>BOOK I.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+MINERVA&rsquo;S DESCENT TO ITHACA.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+The poem opens within forty eight days of the arrival of Ulysses in his
+dominions. He had now remained seven years in the Island of Calypso, when the
+gods assembled in council, proposed the method of his departure from thence and
+his return to his native country. For this purpose it is concluded to send
+Mercury to Calypso, and Pallas immediately descends to Ithaca. She holds a
+conference with Telemachus, in the shape of Mantes, king of Taphians; in which
+she advises him to take a journey in quest of his father Ulysses, to Pylos and
+Sparta, where Nestor and Menelaus yet reigned; then, after having visibly
+displayed her divinity, disappears. The suitors of Penelope make great
+entertainments, and riot in her palace till night. Phemius sings to them the
+return of the Grecians, till Penelope puts a stop to the song. Some words arise
+between the suitors and Telemachus, who summons the council to meet the day
+following.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+The man for wisdom&rsquo;s various arts renown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Long exercised in woes, O Muse! resound;<br/>
+Who, when his arms had wrought the destined fall<br/>
+Of sacred Troy, and razed her heaven-built wall,<br/>
+Wandering from clime to clime, observant stray&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Their manners noted, and their states survey&rsquo;d,<br/>
+On stormy seas unnumber&rsquo;d toils he bore,<br/>
+Safe with his friends to gain his natal shore:<br/>
+Vain toils! their impious folly dared to prey<br/>
+On herds devoted to the god of day;<br/>
+The god vindictive doom&rsquo;d them never more<br/>
+(Ah, men unbless&rsquo;d!) to touch that natal shore.<br/>
+Oh, snatch some portion of these acts from fate,<br/>
+Celestial Muse! and to our world relate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now at their native realms the Greeks arrived;<br/>
+All who the wars of ten long years survived;<br/>
+And &rsquo;scaped the perils of the gulfy main.<br/>
+Ulysses, sole of all the victor train,<br/>
+An exile from his dear paternal coast,<br/>
+Deplored his absent queen and empire lost.<br/>
+Calypso in her caves constrain&rsquo;d his stay,<br/>
+With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay;<br/>
+In vain-for now the circling years disclose<br/>
+The day predestined to reward his woes.<br/>
+At length his Ithaca is given by fate,<br/>
+Where yet new labours his arrival wait;<br/>
+At length their rage the hostile powers restrain,<br/>
+All but the ruthless monarch of the main.<br/>
+But now the god, remote, a heavenly guest,<br/>
+In Æthiopia graced the genial feast<br/>
+(A race divided, whom with sloping rays<br/>
+The rising and descending sun surveys);<br/>
+There on the world&rsquo;s extremest verge revered<br/>
+With hecatombs and prayer in pomp preferr&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Distant he lay: while in the bright abodes<br/>
+Of high Olympus, Jove convened the gods:<br/>
+The assembly thus the sire supreme address&rsquo;d,<br/>
+AEgysthus&rsquo; fate revolving in his breast,<br/>
+Whom young Orestes to the dreary coast<br/>
+Of Pluto sent, a blood-polluted ghost.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Perverse mankind! whose wills, created free,<br/>
+Charge all their woes on absolute degree;<br/>
+All to the dooming gods their guilt translate,<br/>
+And follies are miscall&rsquo;d the crimes of fate.<br/>
+When to his lust AEgysthus gave the rein,<br/>
+Did fate, or we, the adulterous act constrain?<br/>
+Did fate, or we, when great Atrides died,<br/>
+Urge the bold traitor to the regicide?<br/>
+Hermes I sent, while yet his soul remain&rsquo;d<br/>
+Sincere from royal blood, and faith profaned;<br/>
+To warn the wretch, that young Orestes, grown<br/>
+To manly years, should re-assert the throne.<br/>
+Yet, impotent of mind, and uncontroll&rsquo;d,<br/>
+He plunged into the gulf which Heaven foretold.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here paused the god; and pensive thus replies<br/>
+Minerva, graceful with her azure eyes:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O thou! from whom the whole creation springs,<br/>
+The source of power on earth derived to kings!<br/>
+His death was equal to the direful deed;<br/>
+So may the man of blood be doomed to bleed!<br/>
+But grief and rage alternate wound my breast<br/>
+For brave Ulysses, still by fate oppress&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Amidst an isle, around whose rocky shore<br/>
+The forests murmur, and the surges roar,<br/>
+The blameless hero from his wish&rsquo;d-for home<br/>
+A goddess guards in her enchanted dome;<br/>
+(Atlas her sire, to whose far-piercing eye<br/>
+The wonders of the deep expanded lie;<br/>
+The eternal columns which on earth he rears<br/>
+End in the starry vault, and prop the spheres).<br/>
+By his fair daughter is the chief confined,<br/>
+Who soothes to dear delight his anxious mind;<br/>
+Successless all her soft caresses prove,<br/>
+To banish from his breast his country&rsquo;s love;<br/>
+To see the smoke from his loved palace rise,<br/>
+While the dear isle in distant prospect lies,<br/>
+With what contentment could he close his eyes!<br/>
+And will Omnipotence neglect to save<br/>
+The suffering virtue of the wise and brave?<br/>
+Must he, whose altars on the Phrygian shore<br/>
+With frequent rites, and pure, avow&rsquo;d thy power,<br/>
+Be doom&rsquo;d the worst of human ills to prove,<br/>
+Unbless&rsquo;d, abandon&rsquo;d to the wrath of Jove?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Daughter! what words have pass&rsquo;d thy lips unweigh&rsquo;d!<br/>
+(Replied the Thunderer to the martial maid;)<br/>
+Deem not unjustly by my doom oppress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Of human race the wisest and the best.<br/>
+Neptune, by prayer repentant rarely won,<br/>
+Afflicts the chief, to avenge his giant son,<br/>
+Whose visual orb Ulysses robb&rsquo;d of light;<br/>
+Great Polypheme, of more than mortal might?<br/>
+Him young Thousa bore (the bright increase<br/>
+Of Phorcys, dreaded in the sounds and seas);<br/>
+Whom Neptune eyed with bloom of beauty bless&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And in his cave the yielding nymph compress&rsquo;d<br/>
+For this the god constrains the Greek to roam,<br/>
+A hopeless exile from his native home,<br/>
+From death alone exempt&mdash;but cease to mourn;<br/>
+Let all combine to achieve his wish&rsquo;d return;<br/>
+Neptune atoned, his wrath shall now refrain,<br/>
+Or thwart the synod of the gods in vain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Father and king adored!&rdquo; Minerva cried,<br/>
+&ldquo;Since all who in the Olympian bower reside<br/>
+Now make the wandering Greek their public care,<br/>
+Let Hermes to the Atlantic isle repair;<br/>
+Bid him, arrived in bright Calypso&rsquo;s court,<br/>
+The sanction of the assembled powers report:<br/>
+That wise Ulysses to his native land<br/>
+Must speed, obedient to their high command.<br/>
+Meantime Telemachus, the blooming heir<br/>
+Of sea-girt Ithaca, demands my care;<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis mine to form his green, unpractised years<br/>
+In sage debates; surrounded with his peers,<br/>
+To save the state, and timely to restrain<br/>
+The bold intrusion of the suitor-train;<br/>
+Who crowd his palace, and with lawless power<br/>
+His herds and flocks in feastful rites devour.<br/>
+To distant Sparta, and the spacious waste<br/>
+Of Sandy Pyle, the royal youth shall haste.<br/>
+There, warm with filial love, the cause inquire<br/>
+That from his realm retards his god-like sire;<br/>
+Delivering early to the voice of fame<br/>
+The promise of a green immortal name.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She said: the sandals of celestial mould,<br/>
+Fledged with ambrosial plumes, and rich with gold,<br/>
+Surround her feet: with these sublime she sails<br/>
+The aërial space, and mounts the winged gales;<br/>
+O&rsquo;er earth and ocean wide prepared to soar,<br/>
+Her dreaded arm a beamy javelin bore,<br/>
+Ponderous and vast: which, when her fury burns,<br/>
+Proud tyrants humbles, and whole hosts o&rsquo;erturns.<br/>
+From high Olympus prone her flight she bends,<br/>
+And in the realms of Ithaca descends,<br/>
+Her lineaments divine, the grave disguise<br/>
+Of Mentes&rsquo; form conceal&rsquo;d from human eyes<br/>
+(Mentes, the monarch of the Taphian land);<br/>
+A glittering spear waved awful in her hand.<br/>
+There in the portal placed, the heaven-born maid<br/>
+Enormous riot and misrule survey&rsquo;d.<br/>
+On hides of beeves, before the palace gate<br/>
+(Sad spoils of luxury), the suitors sate.<br/>
+With rival art, and ardour in their mien,<br/>
+At chess they vie, to captivate the queen;<br/>
+Divining of their loves. Attending nigh,<br/>
+A menial train the flowing bowl supply.<br/>
+Others, apart, the spacious hall prepare,<br/>
+And form the costly feast with busy care.<br/>
+There young Telemachus, his bloomy face<br/>
+Glowing celestial sweet, with godlike grace<br/>
+Amid the circle shines: but hope and fear<br/>
+(Painful vicissitude!) his bosom tear.<br/>
+Now, imaged in his mind, he sees restored<br/>
+In peace and joy the people&rsquo;s rightful lord;<br/>
+The proud oppressors fly the vengeful sword.<br/>
+While his fond soul these fancied triumphs swell&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The stranger guest the royal youth beheld;<br/>
+Grieved that a visitant so long should wait<br/>
+Unmark&rsquo;d, unhonour&rsquo;d, at a monarch&rsquo;s gate;<br/>
+Instant he flew with hospitable haste,<br/>
+And the new friend with courteous air embraced.<br/>
+&ldquo;Stranger, whoe&rsquo;er thou art, securely rest,<br/>
+Affianced in my faith, a ready guest;<br/>
+Approach the dome, the social banquet share,<br/>
+And then the purpose of thy soul declare.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus affable and mild, the prince precedes,<br/>
+And to the dome the unknown celestial leads.<br/>
+The spear receiving from the hand, he placed<br/>
+Against a column, fair with sculpture graced;<br/>
+Where seemly ranged in peaceful order stood<br/>
+Ulysses&rsquo; arms now long disused to blood.<br/>
+He led the goddess to the sovereign seat,<br/>
+Her feet supported with a stool of state<br/>
+(A purple carpet spread the pavement wide);<br/>
+Then drew his seat, familiar, to her side;<br/>
+Far from the suitor-train, a brutal crowd,<br/>
+With insolence, and wine, elate and loud:<br/>
+Where the free guest, unnoted, might relate,<br/>
+If haply conscious, of his father&rsquo;s fate.<br/>
+The golden ewer a maid obsequious brings,<br/>
+Replenish&rsquo;d from the cool, translucent springs;<br/>
+With copious water the bright vase supplies<br/>
+A silver laver of capacious size;<br/>
+They wash. The tables in fair order spread,<br/>
+They heap the glittering canisters with bread:<br/>
+Viands of various kinds allure the taste,<br/>
+Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!<br/>
+Delicious wines the attending herald brought;<br/>
+The gold gave lustre to the purple draught.<br/>
+Lured with the vapour of the fragrant feast,<br/>
+In rush&rsquo;d the suitors with voracious haste;<br/>
+Marshall&rsquo;d in order due, to each a sewer<br/>
+Presents, to bathe his hands, a radiant ewer.<br/>
+Luxurious then they feast. Observant round<br/>
+Gay stripling youths the brimming goblets crown&rsquo;d.<br/>
+The rage of hunger quell&rsquo;d, they all advance<br/>
+And form to measured airs the mazy dance;<br/>
+To Phemius was consign&rsquo;d the chorded lyre,<br/>
+Whose hand reluctant touch&rsquo;d the warbling wire;<br/>
+Phemius, whose voice divine could sweetest sing<br/>
+High strains responsive to the vocal string.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile, in whispers to his heavenly guest<br/>
+His indignation thus the prince express&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Indulge my rising grief, whilst these (my friend)<br/>
+With song and dance the pompous revel end.<br/>
+Light is the dance, and doubly sweet the lays,<br/>
+When for the dear delight another pays.<br/>
+His treasured stores those cormarants consume,<br/>
+Whose bones, defrauded of a regal tomb<br/>
+And common turf, lie naked on the plain,<br/>
+Or doom&rsquo;d to welter in the whelming main.<br/>
+Should he return, that troop so blithe and bold,<br/>
+With purple robes inwrought, and stiff with gold,<br/>
+Precipitant in fear would wing their flight,<br/>
+And curse their cumbrous pride&rsquo;s unwieldy weight.<br/>
+But ah, I dream!-the appointed hour is fled.<br/>
+And hope, too long with vain delusion fed,<br/>
+Deaf to the rumour of fallacious fame,<br/>
+Gives to the roll of death his glorious name!<br/>
+With venial freedom let me now demand<br/>
+Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land;<br/>
+Sincere from whence began thy course, recite,<br/>
+And to what ship I owe the friendly freight?<br/>
+Now first to me this visit dost thou deign,<br/>
+Or number&rsquo;d in my father&rsquo;s social train?<br/>
+All who deserved his choice he made his own,<br/>
+And, curious much to know, he far was known.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My birth I boast (the blue-eyed virgin cries)<br/>
+From great Anchialus, renown&rsquo;d and wise;<br/>
+Mentes my name; I rule the Taphian race,<br/>
+Whose bounds the deep circumfluent waves embrace;<br/>
+A duteous people, and industrious isle,<br/>
+To naval arts inured, and stormy toil.<br/>
+Freighted with iron from my native land,<br/>
+I steer my voyage to the Brutian strand<br/>
+To gain by commerce, for the labour&rsquo;d mass,<br/>
+A just proportion of refulgent brass.<br/>
+Far from your capital my ship resides<br/>
+At Reitorus, and secure at anchor rides;<br/>
+Where waving groves on airy Neign grow,<br/>
+Supremely tall and shade the deeps below.<br/>
+Thence to revisit your imperial dome,<br/>
+An old hereditary guest I come;<br/>
+Your father&rsquo;s friend. Laertes can relate<br/>
+Our faith unspotted, and its early date;<br/>
+Who, press&rsquo;d with heart-corroding grief and years,<br/>
+To the gay court a rural shed prefers,<br/>
+Where, sole of all his train, a matron sage<br/>
+Supports with homely fond his drooping age,<br/>
+With feeble steps from marshalling his vines<br/>
+Returning sad, when toilsome day declines.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;With friendly speed, induced by erring fame,<br/>
+To hail Ulysses&rsquo; safe return I came;<br/>
+But still the frown of some celestial power<br/>
+With envious joy retards the blissful hour.<br/>
+Let not your soul be sunk in sad despair;<br/>
+He lives, he breathes this heavenly vital air,<br/>
+Among a savage race, whose shelfy bounds<br/>
+With ceaseless roar the foaming deep surrounds.<br/>
+The thoughts which roll within my ravish&rsquo;d breast,<br/>
+To me, no seer, the inspiring gods suggest;<br/>
+Nor skill&rsquo;d nor studious, with prophetic eye<br/>
+To judge the winged omens of the sky.<br/>
+Yet hear this certain speech, nor deem it vain;<br/>
+Though adamantine bonds the chief restrain,<br/>
+The dire restraint his wisdom will defeat,<br/>
+And soon restore him to his regal seat.<br/>
+But generous youth! sincere and free declare,<br/>
+Are you, of manly growth, his royal heir?<br/>
+For sure Ulysses in your look appears,<br/>
+The same his features, if the same his years.<br/>
+Such was that face, on which I dwelt with joy<br/>
+Ere Greece assembled stemm&rsquo;d the tides to Troy;<br/>
+But, parting then for that detested shore,<br/>
+Our eyes, unhappy never greeted more.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;To prove a genuine birth (the prince replies)<br/>
+On female truth assenting faith relies.<br/>
+Thus manifest of right, I build my claim<br/>
+Sure-founded on a fair maternal fame,<br/>
+Ulysses&rsquo; son: but happier he, whom fate<br/>
+Hath placed beneath the storms which toss the great!<br/>
+Happier the son, whose hoary sire is bless&rsquo;d<br/>
+With humble affluence, and domestic rest!<br/>
+Happier than I, to future empire born,<br/>
+But doom&rsquo;d a father&rsquo;s wretch&rsquo;d fate to mourn!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom, with aspect mild, the guest divine:<br/>
+&ldquo;Oh true descendant of a sceptred line!<br/>
+The gods a glorious fate from anguish free<br/>
+To chaste Penelope&rsquo;s increase decree.<br/>
+But say, yon jovial troops so gaily dress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Is this a bridal or a friendly feast?<br/>
+Or from their deed I rightlier may divine,<br/>
+Unseemly flown with insolence and wine?<br/>
+Unwelcome revellers, whose lawless joy<br/>
+Pains the sage ear, and hurts the sober eye.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Magnificence of old (the prince replied)<br/>
+Beneath our roof with virtue could reside;<br/>
+Unblamed abundance crowned the royal board,<br/>
+What time this dome revered her prudent lord;<br/>
+Who now (so Heaven decrees) is doom&rsquo;d to mourn,<br/>
+Bitter constraint, erroneous and forlorn.<br/>
+Better the chief, on Ilion&rsquo;s hostile plain,<br/>
+Had fall&rsquo;n surrounded with his warlike train;<br/>
+Or safe return&rsquo;d, the race of glory pass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+New to his friends&rsquo; embrace, and breathed his last!<br/>
+Then grateful Greece with streaming eyes would raise,<br/>
+Historic marbles to record his praise;<br/>
+His praise, eternal on the faithful stone,<br/>
+Had with transmissive honour graced his son.<br/>
+Now snatch&rsquo;d by harpies to the dreary coast.<br/>
+Sunk is the hero, and his glory lost;<br/>
+Vanish&rsquo;d at once! unheard of, and unknown!<br/>
+And I his heir in misery alone.<br/>
+Nor for a dear lost father only flow<br/>
+The filial tears, but woe succeeds to woe<br/>
+To tempt the spouseless queen with amorous wiles<br/>
+Resort the nobles from the neighbouring isles;<br/>
+From Samos, circled with the Ionian main,<br/>
+Dulichium, and Zacynthas&rsquo; sylvan reign;<br/>
+Ev&rsquo;n with presumptuous hope her bed to ascend,<br/>
+The lords of Ithaca their right pretend.<br/>
+She seems attentive to their pleaded vows,<br/>
+Her heart detesting what her ear allows.<br/>
+They, vain expectants of the bridal hour,<br/>
+My stores in riotous expense devour.<br/>
+In feast and dance the mirthful months employ,<br/>
+And meditate my doom to crown their joy.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With tender pity touch&rsquo;d, the goddess cried:<br/>
+&ldquo;Soon may kind Heaven a sure relief provide,<br/>
+Soon may your sire discharge the vengeance due,<br/>
+And all your wrongs the proud oppressors rue!<br/>
+Oh! in that portal should the chief appear,<br/>
+Each hand tremendous with a brazen spear,<br/>
+In radiant panoply his limbs incased<br/>
+(For so of old my father&rsquo;s court he graced,<br/>
+When social mirth unbent his serious soul,<br/>
+O&rsquo;er the full banquet, and the sprightly bowl);<br/>
+He then from Ephyre, the fair domain<br/>
+Of Ilus, sprung from Jason&rsquo;s royal strain,<br/>
+Measured a length of seas, a toilsome length, in vain.<br/>
+For, voyaging to learn the direful art<br/>
+To taint with deadly drugs the barbed dart;<br/>
+Observant of the gods, and sternly just,<br/>
+Ilus refused to impart the baneful trust;<br/>
+With friendlier zeal my father&rsquo;s soul was fired,<br/>
+The drugs he knew, and gave the boon desired.<br/>
+Appear&rsquo;d he now with such heroic port,<br/>
+As then conspicuous at the Taphian court;<br/>
+Soon should yon boasters cease their haughty strife,<br/>
+Or each atone his guilty love with life.<br/>
+But of his wish&rsquo;d return the care resign,<br/>
+Be future vengeance to the powers divine.<br/>
+My sentence hear: with stern distaste avow&rsquo;d,<br/>
+To their own districts drive the suitor-crowd;<br/>
+When next the morning warms the purple east,<br/>
+Convoke the peerage, and the gods attest;<br/>
+The sorrows of your inmost soul relate;<br/>
+And form sure plans to save the sinking state.<br/>
+Should second love a pleasing flame inspire,<br/>
+And the chaste queen connubial rights require;<br/>
+Dismiss&rsquo;d with honour, let her hence repair<br/>
+To great Icarius, whose paternal care<br/>
+Will guide her passion, and reward her choice<br/>
+With wealthy dower, and bridal gifts of price.<br/>
+Then let this dictate of my love prevail:<br/>
+Instant, to foreign realms prepare to sail,<br/>
+To learn your father&rsquo;s fortunes; Fame may prove,<br/>
+Or omen&rsquo;d voice (the messenger of Jove),<br/>
+Propitious to the search. Direct your toil<br/>
+Through the wide ocean first to sandy Pyle;<br/>
+Of Nestor, hoary sage, his doom demand:<br/>
+Thence speed your voyage to the Spartan strand;<br/>
+For young Atrides to the Achaian coast<br/>
+Arrived the last of all the victor host.<br/>
+If yet Ulysses views the light, forbear,<br/>
+Till the fleet hours restore the circling year.<br/>
+But if his soul hath wing&rsquo;d the destined flight,<br/>
+Inhabitant of deep disastrous night;<br/>
+Homeward with pious speed repass the main,<br/>
+To the pale shade funereal rites ordain,<br/>
+Plant the fair column o&rsquo;er the vacant grave,<br/>
+A hero&rsquo;s honours let the hero have.<br/>
+With decent grief the royal dead deplored,<br/>
+For the chaste queen select an equal lord.<br/>
+Then let revenge your daring mind employ,<br/>
+By fraud or force the suitor train destroy,<br/>
+And starting into manhood, scorn the boy.<br/>
+Hast thou not heard how young Orestes, fired<br/>
+With great revenge, immortal praise acquired?<br/>
+His virgin-sword AEgysthus&rsquo; veins imbrued;<br/>
+The murderer fell, and blood atoned for blood.<br/>
+O greatly bless&rsquo;d with every blooming grace!<br/>
+With equal steps the paths of glory trace;<br/>
+Join to that royal youth&rsquo;s your rival name,<br/>
+And shine eternal in the sphere of fame.<br/>
+But my associates now my stay deplore,<br/>
+Impatient on the hoarse-resounding shore.<br/>
+Thou, heedful of advice, secure proceed;<br/>
+My praise the precept is, be thine the deed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The counsel of my friend (the youth rejoin&rsquo;d)<br/>
+Imprints conviction on my grateful mind.<br/>
+So fathers speak (persuasive speech and mild)<br/>
+Their sage experience to the favourite child.<br/>
+But, since to part, for sweet refection due,<br/>
+The genial viands let my train renew;<br/>
+And the rich pledge of plighted faith receive,<br/>
+Worthy the heir of Ithaca to give.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Defer the promised boon (the goddess cries,<br/>
+Celestial azure brightening in her eyes),<br/>
+And let me now regain the Reithrian port;<br/>
+From Temese return&rsquo;d, your royal court<br/>
+I shall revisit, and that pledge receive;<br/>
+And gifts, memorial of our friendship, leave.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Abrupt, with eagle-speed she cut the sky;<br/>
+Instant invisible to mortal eye.<br/>
+Then first he recognized the ethereal guest;<br/>
+Wonder and joy alternate fire his breast;<br/>
+Heroic thoughts, infused, his heart dilate;<br/>
+Revolving much his father&rsquo;s doubtful fate.<br/>
+At length, composed, he join&rsquo;d the suitor-throng;<br/>
+Hush&rsquo;d in attention to the warbled song.<br/>
+His tender theme the charming lyrist chose.<br/>
+Minerva&rsquo;s anger, and the dreadful woes<br/>
+Which voyaging from Troy the victors bore,<br/>
+While storms vindictive intercept the store.<br/>
+The shrilling airs the vaulted roof rebounds,<br/>
+Reflecting to the queen the silver sounds.<br/>
+With grief renew&rsquo;d the weeping fair descends;<br/>
+Their sovereign&rsquo;s step a virgin train attends:<br/>
+A veil, of richest texture wrought, she wears,<br/>
+And silent to the joyous hall repairs.<br/>
+There from the portal, with her mild command,<br/>
+Thus gently checks the minstrel&rsquo;s tuneful hand:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Phemius! let acts of gods, and heroes old,<br/>
+What ancient bards in hall and bower have told,<br/>
+Attemper&rsquo;d to the lyre, your voice employ;<br/>
+Such the pleased ear will drink with silent joy.<br/>
+But, oh! forbear that dear disastrous name,<br/>
+To sorrow sacred, and secure of fame;<br/>
+My bleeding bosom sickens at the sound,<br/>
+And every piercing note inflicts a wound.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, dearest object of my duteous love,<br/>
+(Replied the prince,) will you the bard reprove?<br/>
+Oft, Jove&rsquo;s ethereal rays (resistless fire)<br/>
+The chanter&rsquo;s soul and raptured song inspire<br/>
+Instinct divine? nor blame severe his choice,<br/>
+Warbling the Grecian woes with heart and voice;<br/>
+For novel lays attract our ravish&rsquo;d ears;<br/>
+But old, the mind with inattention hears:<br/>
+Patient permit the sadly pleasing strain;<br/>
+Familiar now with grief, your tears refrain,<br/>
+And in the public woe forget your own;<br/>
+You weep not for a perish&rsquo;d lord alone.<br/>
+What Greeks new wandering in the Stygian gloom,<br/>
+Wish your Ulysses shared an equal doom!<br/>
+Your widow&rsquo;d hours, apart, with female toil<br/>
+And various labours of the loom beguile;<br/>
+There rule, from palace-cares remote and free;<br/>
+That care to man belongs, and most to me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mature beyond his years, the queen admires<br/>
+His sage reply, and with her train retires.<br/>
+Then swelling sorrows burst their former bounds,<br/>
+With echoing grief afresh the dome resounds;<br/>
+Till Pallas, piteous of her plaintive cries,<br/>
+In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meantime, rekindled at the royal charms,<br/>
+Tumultuous love each beating bosom warms;<br/>
+Intemperate rage a wordy war began;<br/>
+But bold Telemachus assumed the man.<br/>
+&ldquo;Instant (he cried) your female discord end,<br/>
+Ye deedless boasters! and the song attend;<br/>
+Obey that sweet compulsion, nor profane<br/>
+With dissonance the smooth melodious strain.<br/>
+Pacific now prolong the jovial feast;<br/>
+But when the dawn reveals the rosy east,<br/>
+I, to the peers assembled, shall propose<br/>
+The firm resolve, I here in few disclose;<br/>
+No longer live the cankers of my court;<br/>
+All to your several states with speed resort;<br/>
+Waste in wild riot what your land allows,<br/>
+There ply the early feast, and late carouse.<br/>
+But if, to honour lost, &rsquo;tis still decreed<br/>
+For you my bowl shall flow, my flock shall bleed;<br/>
+Judge and revenge my right, impartial Jove!<br/>
+By him and all the immortal thrones above<br/>
+(A sacred oath), each proud oppressor slain,<br/>
+Shall with inglorious gore this marble stain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Awed by the prince, thus haughty, bold, and young,<br/>
+Rage gnaw&rsquo;d the lip, and wonder chain&rsquo;d the tongue.<br/>
+Silence at length the gay Antinous broke,<br/>
+Constrain&rsquo;d a smile, and thus ambiguous spoke:<br/>
+&ldquo;What god to your untutor&rsquo;d youth affords<br/>
+This headlong torrent of amazing words?<br/>
+May Jove delay thy reign, and cumber late<br/>
+So bright a genius with the toils of state!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Those toils (Telemachus serene replies)<br/>
+Have charms, with all their weight, t&rsquo;allure the wise.<br/>
+Fast by the throne obsequious fame resides,<br/>
+And wealth incessant rolls her golden tides.<br/>
+Nor let Antinous rage, if strong desire<br/>
+Of wealth and fame a youthful bosom fire:<br/>
+Elect by Jove, his delegate of sway,<br/>
+With joyous pride the summons I&rsquo;d obey.<br/>
+Whene&rsquo;er Ulysses roams the realm of night,<br/>
+Should factious power dispute my lineal right,<br/>
+Some other Greeks a fairer claim may plead;<br/>
+To your pretence their title would precede.<br/>
+At least, the sceptre lost, I still should reign<br/>
+Sole o&rsquo;er my vassals, and domestic train.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To this Eurymachus: &ldquo;To Heaven alone<br/>
+Refer the choice to fill the vacant throne.<br/>
+Your patrimonial stores in peace possess;<br/>
+Undoubted, all your filial claim confess:<br/>
+Your private right should impious power invade,<br/>
+The peers of Ithaca would arm in aid.<br/>
+But say, that stranger guest who late withdrew,<br/>
+What and from whence? his name and lineage shew.<br/>
+His grave demeanour and majestic grace<br/>
+Speak him descended of no vulgar race:<br/>
+Did he some loan of ancient right require,<br/>
+Or came forerunner of your sceptr&rsquo;d sire?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh son of Polybus!&rdquo; the prince replies,<br/>
+&ldquo;No more my sire will glad these longing eyes;<br/>
+The queen&rsquo;s fond hope inventive rumour cheers,<br/>
+Or vain diviners&rsquo; dreams divert her fears.<br/>
+That stranger-guest the Taphian realm obeys,<br/>
+A realm defended with encircling seas.<br/>
+Mentes, an ever-honour&rsquo;d name, of old<br/>
+High in Ulysses&rsquo; social list enroll&rsquo;d.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus he, though conscious of the ethereal guest,<br/>
+Answer&rsquo;d evasive of the sly request.<br/>
+Meantime the lyre rejoins the sprightly lay;<br/>
+Love-dittied airs, and dance, conclude the day<br/>
+But when the star of eve with golden light<br/>
+Adorn&rsquo;d the matron brow of sable night,<br/>
+The mirthful train dispersing quit the court,<br/>
+And to their several domes to rest resort.<br/>
+A towering structure to the palace join&rsquo;d;<br/>
+To this his steps the thoughtful prince inclined:<br/>
+In his pavilion there, to sleep repairs;<br/>
+The lighted torch, the sage Euryclea bears<br/>
+(Daughter of Ops, the just Pisenor&rsquo;s son,<br/>
+For twenty beeves by great Laertes won;<br/>
+In rosy prime with charms attractive graced,<br/>
+Honour&rsquo;d by him, a gentle lord and chaste,<br/>
+With dear esteem: too wise, with jealous strife<br/>
+To taint the joys of sweet connubial life.<br/>
+Sole with Telemachus her service ends,<br/>
+A child she nursed him, and a man attends).<br/>
+Whilst to his couch himself the prince address&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The duteous dame received the purple vest;<br/>
+The purple vest with decent care disposed,<br/>
+The silver ring she pull&rsquo;d, the door reclosed,<br/>
+The bolt, obedient to the silken cord,<br/>
+To the strong staple&rsquo;s inmost depth restored,<br/>
+Secured the valves. There, wrapped in silent shade,<br/>
+Pensive, the rules the goddess gave he weigh&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Stretch&rsquo;d on the downy fleece, no rest he knows,<br/>
+And in his raptured soul the vision glows.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap02"></a>BOOK II.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE COUNCIL OF ITHACA.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Telemachus in the assembly of the lords of Ithaca complains of the injustice
+done him by the suitors, and insists upon their departure from his palace;
+appealing to the princes, and exciting the people to declare against them. The
+suitors endeavour to justify their stay, at least till he shall send the queen
+to the court of Icarius her father; which he refuses. There appears a prodigy
+of two eagles in the sky, which an augur expounds to the ruin of the suitors.
+Telemachus then demands a vessel to carry him to Pylos and Sparta, there to
+inquire of his father&rsquo;s fortunes. Pallas, in the shape of Mentor (an
+ancient friend of Ulysses), helps him to a ship, assists him in preparing
+necessaries for the voyage, and embarks with him that night; which concludes
+the second day from the opening of the poem. The scene continues in the palace
+of Ulysses, in Ithaca.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Now reddening from the dawn, the morning ray<br/>
+Glow&rsquo;d in the front of heaven, and gave the day<br/>
+The youthful hero, with returning light,<br/>
+Rose anxious from the inquietudes of night.<br/>
+A royal robe he wore with graceful pride,<br/>
+A two-edged falchion threaten&rsquo;d by his side,<br/>
+Embroider&rsquo;d sandals glitter&rsquo;d as he trod,<br/>
+And forth he moved, majestic as a god.<br/>
+Then by his heralds, restless of delay,<br/>
+To council calls the peers: the peers obey.<br/>
+Soon as in solemn form the assembly sate,<br/>
+From his high dome himself descends in state.<br/>
+Bright in his hand a ponderous javelin shined;<br/>
+Two dogs, a faithful guard, attend behind;<br/>
+Pallas with grace divine his form improves,<br/>
+And gazing crowds admire him as he moves,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His father&rsquo;s throne he fill&rsquo;d; while distant stood<br/>
+The hoary peers, and aged wisdom bow&rsquo;d.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&rsquo;Twas silence all. At last AEgyptius spoke;<br/>
+AEgyptius, by his age and sorrow broke;<br/>
+A length of days his soul with prudence crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+A length of days had bent him to the ground.<br/>
+His eldest hope in arms to Ilion came,<br/>
+By great Ulysses taught the path to fame;<br/>
+But (hapless youth) the hideous Cyclops tore<br/>
+His quivering limbs, and quaff&rsquo;d his spouting gore.<br/>
+Three sons remain&rsquo;d; to climb with haughty fires<br/>
+The royal bed, Eurynomus aspires;<br/>
+The rest with duteous love his griefs assuage,<br/>
+And ease the sire of half the cares of age.<br/>
+Yet still his Antiphus he loves, he mourns,<br/>
+And, as he stood, he spoke and wept by turns,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Since great Ulysses sought the Phrygian plains,<br/>
+Within these walls inglorious silence reigns.<br/>
+Say then, ye peers! by whose commands we meet?<br/>
+Why here once more in solemn council sit?<br/>
+Ye young, ye old, the weighty cause disclose:<br/>
+Arrives some message of invading foes?<br/>
+Or say, does high necessity of state<br/>
+Inspire some patriot, and demand debate?<br/>
+The present synod speaks its author wise;<br/>
+Assist him, Jove, thou regent of the skies!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke. Telemachus with transport glows,<br/>
+Embraced the omen, and majestic rose<br/>
+(His royal hand the imperial sceptre sway&rsquo;d);<br/>
+Then thus, addressing to AEgyptius, said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Reverend old man! lo here confess&rsquo;d he stands<br/>
+By whom ye meet; my grief your care demands.<br/>
+No story I unfold of public woes,<br/>
+Nor bear advices of impending foes:<br/>
+Peace the blest land, and joys incessant crown:<br/>
+Of all this happy realm, I grieve alone.<br/>
+For my lost sire continual sorrows spring,<br/>
+The great, the good; your father and your king.<br/>
+Yet more; our house from its foundation bows,<br/>
+Our foes are powerful, and your sons the foes;<br/>
+Hither, unwelcome to the queen, they come;<br/>
+Why seek they not the rich Icarian dome?<br/>
+If she must wed, from other hands require<br/>
+The dowry: is Telemachus her sire?<br/>
+Yet through my court the noise of revel rings,<br/>
+And waste the wise frugality of kings.<br/>
+Scarce all my herds their luxury suffice;<br/>
+Scarce all my wine their midnight hours supplies.<br/>
+Safe in my youth, in riot still they grow,<br/>
+Nor in the helpless orphan dread a foe.<br/>
+But come it will, the time when manhood grants<br/>
+More powerful advocates than vain complaints.<br/>
+Approach that hour! insufferable wrong<br/>
+Cries to the gods, and vengeance sleeps too long.<br/>
+Rise then, ye peers! with virtuous anger rise;<br/>
+Your fame revere, but most the avenging skies.<br/>
+By all the deathless powers that reign above,<br/>
+By righteous Themis and by thundering Jove<br/>
+(Themis, who gives to councils, or denies<br/>
+Success; and humbles, or confirms the wise),<br/>
+Rise in my aid! suffice the tears that flow<br/>
+For my lost sire, nor add new woe to woe.<br/>
+If e&rsquo;er he bore the sword to strengthen ill,<br/>
+Or, having power to wrong, betray&rsquo;d the will,<br/>
+On me, on me your kindled wrath assuage,<br/>
+And bid the voice of lawless riot rage.<br/>
+If ruin to your royal race ye doom,<br/>
+Be you the spoilers, and our wealth consume.<br/>
+Then might we hope redress from juster laws,<br/>
+And raise all Ithaca to aid our cause:<br/>
+But while your sons commit the unpunish&rsquo;d wrong,<br/>
+You make the arm of violence too strong.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While thus he spoke, with rage and grief he frown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And dash&rsquo;d the imperial sceptre to the ground.<br/>
+The big round tear hung trembling in his eye:<br/>
+The synod grieved, and gave a pitying sigh,<br/>
+Then silent sate&mdash;at length Antinous burns<br/>
+With haughty rage, and sternly thus returns:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O insolence of youth! whose tongue affords<br/>
+Such railing eloquence, and war of words.<br/>
+Studious thy country&rsquo;s worthies to defame,<br/>
+Thy erring voice displays thy mother&rsquo;s shame.<br/>
+Elusive of the bridal day, she gives<br/>
+Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives.<br/>
+Did not the sun, through heaven&rsquo;s wide azure roll&rsquo;d,<br/>
+For three long years the royal fraud behold?<br/>
+While she, laborious in delusion, spread<br/>
+The spacious loom, and mix&rsquo;d the various thread:<br/>
+Where as to life the wondrous figures rise,<br/>
+Thus spoke the inventive queen, with artful sighs:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Though cold in death Ulysses breathes no more,<br/>
+Cease yet awhile to urge the bridal hour:<br/>
+Cease, till to great Laertes I bequeath<br/>
+A task of grief, his ornaments of death.<br/>
+Lest when the Fates his royal ashes claim,<br/>
+The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame;<br/>
+When he, whom living mighty realms obey&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Shall want in death a shroud to grace his shade.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus she: at once the generous train complies,<br/>
+Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue&rsquo;s fair disguise.<br/>
+The work she plied; but, studious of delay,<br/>
+By night reversed the labours of the day.<br/>
+While thrice the sun his annual journey made,<br/>
+The conscious lamp the midnight fraud survey&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Unheard, unseen, three years her arts prevail;<br/>
+The fourth her maid unfolds the amazing tale.<br/>
+We saw, as unperceived we took our stand,<br/>
+The backward labours of her faithless hand.<br/>
+Then urged, she perfects her illustrious toils;<br/>
+A wondrous monument of female wiles!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you, O peers! and thou, O prince! give ear<br/>
+(I speak aloud, that every Greek may hear):<br/>
+Dismiss the queen; and if her sire approves<br/>
+Let him espouse her to the peer she loves:<br/>
+Bid instant to prepare the bridal train,<br/>
+Nor let a race of princes wait in vain.<br/>
+Though with a grace divine her soul is blest,<br/>
+And all Minerva breathes within her breast,<br/>
+In wondrous arts than woman more renown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And more than woman with deep wisdom crown&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Though Tyro nor Mycene match her name,<br/>
+Not great Alcmena (the proud boasts of fame);<br/>
+Yet thus by heaven adorn&rsquo;d, by heaven&rsquo;s decree<br/>
+She shines with fatal excellence, to thee:<br/>
+With thee, the bowl we drain, indulge the feast,<br/>
+Till righteous heaven reclaim her stubborn breast.<br/>
+What though from pole to pole resounds her name!<br/>
+The son&rsquo;s destruction waits the mother&rsquo;s fame:<br/>
+For, till she leaves thy court, it is decreed,<br/>
+Thy bowl to empty and thy flock to bleed.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While yet he speaks, Telemachus replies:<br/>
+&ldquo;Ev&rsquo;n nature starts, and what ye ask denies.<br/>
+Thus, shall I thus repay a mother&rsquo;s cares,<br/>
+Who gave me life, and nursed my infant years!<br/>
+While sad on foreign shores Ulysses treads.<br/>
+Or glides a ghost with unapparent shades;<br/>
+How to Icarius in the bridal hour<br/>
+Shall I, by waste undone, refund the dower?<br/>
+How from my father should I vengeance dread!<br/>
+How would my mother curse my hated head!<br/>
+And while in wrath to vengeful fiends she cries,<br/>
+How from their hell would vengeful fiends arise!<br/>
+Abhorr&rsquo;d by all, accursed my name would grow,<br/>
+The earth&rsquo;s disgrace, and human-kind my foe.<br/>
+If this displease, why urge ye here your stay?<br/>
+Haste from the court, ye spoilers, haste away:<br/>
+Waste in wild riot what your land allows,<br/>
+There ply the early feast, and late carouse.<br/>
+But if to honour lost, &rsquo;tis still decreed<br/>
+For you my bowl shall flow, my flocks shall bleed;<br/>
+Judge, and assert my right, impartial Jove!<br/>
+By him, and all the immortal host above<br/>
+(A sacred oath), if heaven the power supply,<br/>
+Vengeance I vow, and for your wrongs ye die.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With that, two eagles from a mountain&rsquo;s height<br/>
+By Jove&rsquo;s command direct their rapid flight;<br/>
+Swift they descend, with wing to wing conjoin&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Stretch their broad plumes, and float upon the wind.<br/>
+Above the assembled peers they wheel on high,<br/>
+And clang their wings, and hovering beat the sky;<br/>
+With ardent eyes the rival train they threat,<br/>
+And shrieking loud denounce approaching fate.<br/>
+They cuff, they tear; their cheeks and neck they rend,<br/>
+And from their plumes huge drops of blood descend;<br/>
+Then sailing o&rsquo;er the domes and towers, they fly,<br/>
+Full toward the east, and mount into the sky.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The wondering rivals gaze, with cares oppress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And chilling horrors freeze in every breast,<br/>
+Till big with knowledge of approaching woes,<br/>
+The prince of augurs, Halitherses, rose:<br/>
+Prescient he view&rsquo;d the aërial tracks, and drew<br/>
+A sure presage from every wing that flew.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ye sons (he cried) of Ithaca, give ear;<br/>
+Hear all! but chiefly you, O rivals! hear.<br/>
+Destruction sure o&rsquo;er all your heads impends<br/>
+Ulysses comes, and death his steps attends.<br/>
+Nor to the great alone is death decreed;<br/>
+We and our guilty Ithaca must bleed.<br/>
+Why cease we then the wrath of heaven to stay?<br/>
+Be humbled all, and lead, ye great! the way.<br/>
+For lo my words no fancied woes relate;<br/>
+I speak from science and the voice of fate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;When great Ulysses sought the Phrygian shores<br/>
+To shake with war proud Ilion&rsquo;s lofty towers,<br/>
+Deeds then undone my faithful tongue foretold:<br/>
+Heaven seal&rsquo;d my words, and you those deeds behold.<br/>
+I see (I cried) his woes, a countless train;<br/>
+I see his friends o&rsquo;erwhelm&rsquo;d beneath the main;<br/>
+How twice ten years from shore to shore he roams:<br/>
+Now twice ten years are past, and now he comes!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom Eurymachus&mdash;&ldquo;Fly, dotard fly,<br/>
+With thy wise dreams, and fables of the sky.<br/>
+Go prophesy at home, thy sons advise:<br/>
+Here thou art sage in vain&mdash;I better read the skies<br/>
+Unnumber&rsquo;d birds glide through the aërial way;<br/>
+Vagrants of air, and unforeboding stray.<br/>
+Cold in the tomb, or in the deeps below,<br/>
+Ulysses lies; oh wert thou laid as low!<br/>
+Then would that busy head no broils suggest,<br/>
+For fire to rage Telemachus&rsquo; breast,<br/>
+From him some bribe thy venal tongue requires,<br/>
+And interest, not the god, thy voice inspires.<br/>
+His guideless youth, if thy experienced age<br/>
+Mislead fallacious into idle rage,<br/>
+Vengeance deserved thy malice shall repress.<br/>
+And but augment the wrongs thou would&rsquo;st redress,<br/>
+Telemachus may bid the queen repair<br/>
+To great Icarius, whose paternal care<br/>
+Will guide her passion, and reward her choice<br/>
+With wealthy dower, and bridal gifts of price.<br/>
+Till she retires, determined we remain,<br/>
+And both the prince and augur threat in vain:<br/>
+His pride of words, and thy wild dream of fate,<br/>
+Move not the brave, or only move their hate,<br/>
+Threat on, O prince! elude the bridal day.<br/>
+Threat on, till all thy stores in waste decay.<br/>
+True, Greece affords a train of lovely dames,<br/>
+In wealth and beauty worthy of our flames:<br/>
+But never from this nobler suit we cease;<br/>
+For wealth and beauty less than virtue please.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the youth: &ldquo;Since then in vain I tell<br/>
+My numerous woes, in silence let them dwell.<br/>
+But Heaven, and all the Greeks, have heard my wrongs;<br/>
+To Heaven, and all the Greeks, redress belongs;<br/>
+Yet this I ask (nor be it ask&rsquo;d in vain),<br/>
+A bark to waft me o&rsquo;er the rolling main,<br/>
+The realms of Pyle and Sparta to explore,<br/>
+And seek my royal sire from shore to shore;<br/>
+If, or to fame his doubtful fate be known,<br/>
+Or to be learn&rsquo;d from oracles alone,<br/>
+If yet he lives, with patience I forbear,<br/>
+Till the fleet hours restore the circling year;<br/>
+But if already wandering in the train<br/>
+Of empty shades, I measure back the main,<br/>
+Plant the fair column o&rsquo;er the mighty dead,<br/>
+And yield his consort to the nuptial bed.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He ceased; and while abash&rsquo;d the peers attend,<br/>
+Mentor arose, Ulysses&rsquo; faithful friend:<br/>
+(When fierce in arms he sought the scenes of war,<br/>
+&ldquo;My friend (he cried), my palace be thy care;<br/>
+Years roll&rsquo;d on years my godlike sire decay,<br/>
+Guard thou his age, and his behests obey.&rdquo;)<br/>
+Stern as he rose, he cast his eyes around,<br/>
+That flash&rsquo;d with rage; and as spoke, he frown&rsquo;d,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O never, never more let king be just,<br/>
+Be mild in power, or faithful to his trust!<br/>
+Let tyrants govern with an iron rod,<br/>
+Oppress, destroy, and be the scourge of God;<br/>
+Since he who like a father held his reign,<br/>
+So soon forgot, was just and mild in vain!<br/>
+True, while my friend is grieved, his griefs I share;<br/>
+Yet now the rivals are my smallest care:<br/>
+They for the mighty mischiefs they devise,<br/>
+Ere long shall pay&mdash;their forfeit lives the price.<br/>
+But against you, ye Greeks! ye coward train!<br/>
+Gods! how my soul is moved with just disdain!<br/>
+Dumb ye all stand, and not one tongue affords<br/>
+His injured prince the little aid of words.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While yet he spoke, Leocritus rejoined:<br/>
+&ldquo;O pride of words, and arrogance of mind!<br/>
+Would&rsquo;st thou to rise in arms the Greeks advise?<br/>
+Join all your powers? in arms, ye Greeks, arise!<br/>
+Yet would your powers in vain our strength oppose.<br/>
+The valiant few o&rsquo;ermatch a host of foes.<br/>
+Should great Ulysses stern appear in arms,<br/>
+While the bowl circles and the banquet warms;<br/>
+Though to his breast his spouse with transport flies,<br/>
+Torn from her breast, that hour, Ulysses dies.<br/>
+But hence retreating to your domes repair.<br/>
+To arm the vessel, Mentor! be thy care,<br/>
+And Halitherses! thine: be each his friend;<br/>
+Ye loved the father: go, the son attend.<br/>
+But yet, I trust, the boaster means to stay<br/>
+Safe in the court, nor tempt the watery way.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, with a rushing sound the assembly bend<br/>
+Diverse their steps: the rival rout ascend<br/>
+The royal dome; while sad the prince explores<br/>
+The neighbouring main, and sorrowing treads the shores.<br/>
+There, as the waters o&rsquo;er his hands he shed,<br/>
+The royal suppliant to Minerva pray&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O goddess! who descending from the skies<br/>
+Vouchsafed thy presence to my wondering eyes,<br/>
+By whose commands the raging deeps I trace,<br/>
+And seek my sire through storms and rolling seas!<br/>
+Hear from thy heavens above, O warrior maid!<br/>
+Descend once more, propitious to my aid.<br/>
+Without thy presence, vain is thy command:<br/>
+Greece, and the rival train, thy voice withstand.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Indulgent to his prayer, the goddess took<br/>
+Sage Mentor&rsquo;s form, and thus like Mentor spoke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O prince, in early youth divinely wise,<br/>
+Born, the Ulysses of thy age to rise<br/>
+If to the son the father&rsquo;s worth descends,<br/>
+O&rsquo;er the wide wave success thy ways attends<br/>
+To tread the walks of death he stood prepared;<br/>
+And what he greatly thought, he nobly dared.<br/>
+Were not wise sons descendant of the wise,<br/>
+And did not heroes from brave heroes rise,<br/>
+Vain were my hopes: few sons attain the praise<br/>
+Of their great sires, and most their sires disgrace.<br/>
+But since thy veins paternal virtue fires,<br/>
+And all Penelope thy soul inspires,<br/>
+Go, and succeed: the rivals&rsquo; aims despise;<br/>
+For never, never wicked man was wise.<br/>
+Blind they rejoice, though now, ev&rsquo;n now they fall;<br/>
+Death hastes amain: one hour o&rsquo;erwhelms them all!<br/>
+And lo, with speed we plough the watery way;<br/>
+My power shall guard thee, and my hand convey:<br/>
+The winged vessel studious I prepare,<br/>
+Through seas and realms companion of thy care.<br/>
+Thou to the court ascend: and to the shores<br/>
+(When night advances) bear the naval stores;<br/>
+Bread, that decaying man with strength supplies,<br/>
+And generous wine, which thoughtful sorrow flies.<br/>
+Meanwhile the mariners, by my command,<br/>
+Shall speed aboard, a valiant chosen band.<br/>
+Wide o&rsquo;er the bay, by vessel vessel rides;<br/>
+The best I choose to waft then o&rsquo;er the tides.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She spoke: to his high dome the prince returns,<br/>
+And, as he moves, with royal anguish mourns.<br/>
+&rsquo;Twas riot all, among the lawless train;<br/>
+Boar bled by boar, and goat by goat lay slain.<br/>
+Arrived, his hand the gay Antinous press&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And thus deriding, with a smile address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Grieve not, O daring prince! that noble heart;<br/>
+Ill suits gay youth the stern heroic part.<br/>
+Indulge the genial hour, unbend thy soul,<br/>
+Leave thought to age, and drain the flowing bowl.<br/>
+Studious to ease thy grief, our care provides<br/>
+The bark, to waft thee o&rsquo;er the swelling tides.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is this (returns the prince) for mirth a time?<br/>
+When lawless gluttons riot, mirth&rsquo;s a crime;<br/>
+The luscious wines, dishonour&rsquo;d, lose their taste;<br/>
+The song is noise, and impious is the feast.<br/>
+Suffice it to have spent with swift decay<br/>
+The wealth of kings, and made my youth a prey.<br/>
+But now the wise instructions of the sage,<br/>
+And manly thoughts inspired by manly age,<br/>
+Teach me to seek redress for all my woe,<br/>
+Here, or in Pyle&mdash;in Pyle, or here, your foe.<br/>
+Deny your vessels, ye deny in vain:<br/>
+A private voyager I pass the main.<br/>
+Free breathe the winds, and free the billows flow;<br/>
+And where on earth I live, I live your foe.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke and frown&rsquo;d, nor longer deign&rsquo;d to stay,<br/>
+Sternly his hand withdrew, and strode away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meantime, o&rsquo;er all the dome, they quaff, they feast,<br/>
+Derisive taunts were spread from guest to guest,<br/>
+And each in jovial mood his mate address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tremble ye not, O friends, and coward fly,<br/>
+Doom&rsquo;d by the stern Telemachus to die?<br/>
+To Pyle or Sparta to demand supplies,<br/>
+Big with revenge, the mighty warrior flies;<br/>
+Or comes from Ephyre with poisons fraught,<br/>
+And kills us all in one tremendous draught!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Or who can say (his gamesome mate replies)<br/>
+But, while the danger of the deeps he tries<br/>
+He, like his sire, may sink deprived of breath,<br/>
+And punish us unkindly by his death?<br/>
+What mighty labours would he then create,<br/>
+To seize his treasures, and divide his state,<br/>
+The royal palace to the queen convey,<br/>
+Or him she blesses in the bridal day!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meantime the lofty rooms the prince surveys,<br/>
+Where lay the treasures of the Ithacian race:<br/>
+Here ruddy brass and gold refulgent blazed;<br/>
+There polished chests embroider&rsquo;d vestures graced;<br/>
+Here jars of oil breathed forth a rich perfume;<br/>
+There casks of wine in rows adorn&rsquo;d the dome<br/>
+(Pure flavorous wine, by gods in bounty given<br/>
+And worthy to exalt the feasts of heaven).<br/>
+Untouch&rsquo;d they stood, till, his long labours o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+The great Ulysses reach&rsquo;d his native shore.<br/>
+A double strength of bars secured the gates;<br/>
+Fast by the door the wise Euryclea waits;<br/>
+Euryclea, who great Ops! thy lineage shared,<br/>
+And watch&rsquo;d all night, all day, a faithful guard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the prince: &ldquo;O thou whose guardian care<br/>
+Nursed the most wretched king that breathes the air;<br/>
+Untouch&rsquo;d and sacred may these vessels stand,<br/>
+Till great Ulysses views his native land.<br/>
+But by thy care twelve urns of wine be fill&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Next these in worth, and firm these urns be seal&rsquo;d;<br/>
+And twice ten measures of the choicest flour<br/>
+Prepared, ere yet descends the evening hour.<br/>
+For when the favouring shades of night arise,<br/>
+And peaceful slumbers close my mother&rsquo;s eyes,<br/>
+Me from our coast shall spreading sails convey,<br/>
+To seek Ulysses through the watery way.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While yet he spoke, she fill&rsquo;d the walls with cries,<br/>
+And tears ran trickling from her aged eyes.<br/>
+&ldquo;O whither, whither flies my son (she cried)<br/>
+To realms; that rocks and roaring seas divide?<br/>
+In foreign lands thy father&rsquo;s days decay&rsquo;d.<br/>
+And foreign lands contain the mighty dead.<br/>
+The watery way ill-fated if thou try,<br/>
+All, all must perish, and by fraud you die!<br/>
+Then stay, my, child! storms beat, and rolls the main,<br/>
+Oh, beat those storms, and roll the seas in vain!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Far hence (replied the prince) thy fears be driven:<br/>
+Heaven calls me forth; these counsels are of Heaven.<br/>
+But, by the powers that hate the perjured, swear,<br/>
+To keep my voyage from the royal ear,<br/>
+Nor uncompell&rsquo;d the dangerous truth betray,<br/>
+Till twice six times descends the lamp of day,<br/>
+Lest the sad tale a mother&rsquo;s life impair,<br/>
+And grief destroy what time awhile would spare.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus he. The matron with uplifted eyes<br/>
+Attests the all-seeing sovereign of the skies.<br/>
+Then studious she prepares the choicest flour,<br/>
+The strength of wheat and wines an ample store.<br/>
+While to the rival train the prince returns,<br/>
+The martial goddess with impatience burns;<br/>
+Like thee, Telemachus, in voice and size,<br/>
+With speed divine from street to street she flies,<br/>
+She bids the mariners prepared to stand,<br/>
+When night descends, embodied on the strand.<br/>
+Then to Noëmon swift she runs, she flies,<br/>
+And asks a bark: the chief a bark supplies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now, declining with his sloping wheels,<br/>
+Down sunk the sun behind the western hills<br/>
+The goddess shoved the vessel from the shores,<br/>
+And stow&rsquo;d within its womb the naval stores,<br/>
+Full in the openings of the spacious main<br/>
+It rides; and now descends the sailor-train,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next, to the court, impatient of delay.<br/>
+With rapid step the goddess urged her way;<br/>
+There every eye with slumberous chains she bound,<br/>
+And dash&rsquo;d the flowing goblet to the ground.<br/>
+Drowsy they rose, with heavy fumes oppress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Reel&rsquo;d from the palace, and retired to rest.<br/>
+Then thus, in Mentor&rsquo;s reverend form array&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Spoke to Telemachus the martial maid.<br/>
+&ldquo;Lo! on the seas, prepared the vessel stands,<br/>
+The impatient mariner thy speed demands.&rdquo;<br/>
+Swift as she spoke, with rapid pace she leads;<br/>
+The footsteps of the deity he treads.<br/>
+Swift to the shore they move along the strand;<br/>
+The ready vessel rides, the sailors ready stand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He bids them bring their stores; the attending train<br/>
+Load the tall bark, and launch into the main,<br/>
+The prince and goddess to the stern ascend;<br/>
+To the strong stroke at once the rowers bend.<br/>
+Full from the west she bids fresh breezes blow;<br/>
+The sable billows foam and roar below.<br/>
+The chief his orders gives; the obedient band<br/>
+With due observance wait the chief&rsquo;s command;<br/>
+With speed the mast they rear, with speed unbind<br/>
+The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind.<br/>
+High o&rsquo;er the roaring waves the spreading sails<br/>
+Bow the tall mast, and swell before the gales;<br/>
+The crooked keel the parting surge divides,<br/>
+And to the stern retreating roll the tides.<br/>
+And now they ship their oars, and crown with wine<br/>
+The holy goblet to the powers divine:<br/>
+Imploring all the gods that reign above,<br/>
+But chief the blue-eyed progeny of Jove.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus all the night they stem the liquid way,<br/>
+And end their voyage with the morning ray.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap03"></a>BOOK III.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE INTERVIEW OF TELEMACHUS AND NESTOR.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Telemachus, guided by Pallas in the shape of Mentor, arrives in the morning at
+Pylos, where Nestor and his sons are sacrificing on the sea- shore to Neptune.
+Telemachus declares the occasion of his coming: and Nestor relates what passed
+in their return from Troy, how their fleets were separated, and he never since
+heard of Ulysses. They discourse concerning the death of Agamemnon, the revenge
+of Orestes, and the injuries of the suitors. Nestor advises him to go to
+Sparta, and inquire further of Menelaus. The sacrifice ending with the night,
+Minerva vanishes from them in the form of an eagle: Telemachus is lodged in the
+palace. The next morning they sacrifice a bullock to Minerva; and Telemachus
+proceeds on his journey to Sparta, attended by Pisistratus.<br/>
+    The scene lies on the sea-shore of Pylos.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+The sacred sun, above the waters raised,<br/>
+Through heaven&rsquo;s eternal brazen portals blazed;<br/>
+And wide o&rsquo;er earth diffused his cheering ray,<br/>
+To gods and men to give the golden day.<br/>
+Now on the coast of Pyle the vessel falls,<br/>
+Before old Neleus&rsquo; venerable walls.<br/>
+There suppliant to the monarch of the flood,<br/>
+At nine green theatres the Pylians stood,<br/>
+Each held five hundred (a deputed train),<br/>
+At each, nine oxen on the sand lay slain.<br/>
+They taste the entrails, and the altars load<br/>
+With smoking thighs, an offering to the god.<br/>
+Full for the port the Ithacensians stand,<br/>
+And furl their sails, and issue on the land.<br/>
+Telemachus already press&rsquo;d the shore;<br/>
+Not first, the power of wisdom march&rsquo;d before,<br/>
+And ere the sacrificing throng he join&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Admonish&rsquo;d thus his well-attending mind:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Proceed, my son! this youthful shame expel;<br/>
+An honest business never blush to tell.<br/>
+To learn what fates thy wretched sire detain,<br/>
+We pass&rsquo;d the wide immeasurable main.<br/>
+Meet then the senior far renown&rsquo;d for sense<br/>
+With reverend awe, but decent confidence:<br/>
+Urge him with truth to frame his fair replies;<br/>
+And sure he will; for wisdom never lies.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh tell me, Mentor! tell me, faithful guide<br/>
+(The youth with prudent modesty replied),<br/>
+How shall I meet, or how accost the sage,<br/>
+Unskill&rsquo;d in speech, nor yet mature of age?<br/>
+Awful th&rsquo;approach, and hard the task appears,<br/>
+To question wisely men of riper years.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the martial goddess thus rejoin&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;Search, for some thoughts, thy own suggesting mind;<br/>
+And others, dictated by heavenly power,<br/>
+Shall rise spontaneous in the needful hour.<br/>
+For nought unprosperous shall thy ways attend,<br/>
+Born with good omens, and with heaven thy friend.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She spoke, and led the way with swiftest speed;<br/>
+As swift, the youth pursued the way she led;<br/>
+and join&rsquo;d the band before the sacred fire,<br/>
+Where sate, encompass&rsquo;d with his sons, the sire.<br/>
+The youth of Pylos, some on pointed wood<br/>
+Transfix&rsquo;d the fragments, some prepared the food:<br/>
+In friendly throngs they gather to embrace<br/>
+Their unknown guests, and at the banquet place,<br/>
+Pisistratus was first to grasp their hands,<br/>
+And spread soft hides upon the yellow sands;<br/>
+Along the shore the illustrious pair he led,<br/>
+Where Nestor sate with youthful Thrasymed,<br/>
+To each a portion of the feast he bore,<br/>
+And held the golden goblet foaming o&rsquo;er;<br/>
+Then first approaching to the elder guest,<br/>
+The latent goddess in these words address&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;Whoe&rsquo;er thou art, whom fortune brings to keep<br/>
+These rites of Neptune, monarch of the deep,<br/>
+Thee first it fits, O stranger! to prepare<br/>
+The due libation and the solemn prayer;<br/>
+Then give thy friend to shed the sacred wine;<br/>
+Though much thy younger, and his years like mine,<br/>
+He too, I deem, implores the power divine;<br/>
+For all mankind alike require their grace,<br/>
+All born to want; a miserable race!&rdquo;<br/>
+He spake, and to her hand preferr&rsquo;d the bowl;<br/>
+A secret pleasure touch&rsquo;d Athena&rsquo;s soul,<br/>
+To see the preference due to sacred age<br/>
+Regarded ever by the just and sage.<br/>
+Of Ocean&rsquo;s king she then implores the grace.<br/>
+&ldquo;O thou! whose arms this ample globe embrace,<br/>
+Fulfil our wish, and let thy glory shine<br/>
+On Nestor first, and Nestor&rsquo;s royal line;<br/>
+Next grant the Pylian states their just desires,<br/>
+Pleased with their hecatomb&rsquo;s ascending fires;<br/>
+Last, deign Telemachus and me to bless,<br/>
+And crown our voyage with desired success.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus she: and having paid the rite divine,<br/>
+Gave to Ulysses&rsquo; son the rosy wine.<br/>
+Suppliant he pray&rsquo;d. And now the victims dress&rsquo;d<br/>
+They draw, divide, and celebrate the feast.<br/>
+The banquet done, the narrative old man,<br/>
+Thus mild, the pleasing conference began:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now gentle guests! the genial banquet o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+It fits to ask ye, what your native shore,<br/>
+And whence your race? on what adventure say,<br/>
+Thus far you wander through the watery way?<br/>
+Relate if business, or the thirst of gain,<br/>
+Engage your journey o&rsquo;er the pathless main<br/>
+Where savage pirates seek through seas unknown<br/>
+The lives of others, venturous of their own.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Urged by the precepts by the goddess given,<br/>
+And fill&rsquo;d with confidence infused from Heaven,<br/>
+The youth, whom Pallas destined to be wise<br/>
+And famed among the sons of men, replies:<br/>
+&ldquo;Inquir&rsquo;st thou, father! from what coast we came?<br/>
+(Oh grace and glory of the Grecian name!)<br/>
+From where high Ithaca o&rsquo;erlooks the floods,<br/>
+Brown with o&rsquo;er-arching shades and pendent woods<br/>
+Us to these shores our filial duty draws,<br/>
+A private sorrow, not a public cause.<br/>
+My sire I seek, where&rsquo;er the voice of fame<br/>
+Has told the glories of his noble name,<br/>
+The great Ulysses; famed from shore to shore<br/>
+For valour much, for hardy suffering more.<br/>
+Long time with thee before proud Ilion&rsquo;s wall<br/>
+In arms he fought; with thee beheld her fall.<br/>
+Of all the chiefs, this hero&rsquo;s fate alone<br/>
+Has Jove reserved, unheard of, and unknown;<br/>
+Whether in fields by hostile fury slain,<br/>
+Or sunk by tempests in the gulfy main?<br/>
+Of this to learn, oppress&rsquo;d with tender fears,<br/>
+Lo, at thy knee his suppliant son appears.<br/>
+If or thy certain eye, or curious ear,<br/>
+Have learnt his fate, the whole dark story clear<br/>
+And, oh! whate&rsquo;er Heaven destined to betide,<br/>
+Let neither flattery soothe, nor pity hide.<br/>
+Prepared I stand: he was but born to try<br/>
+The lot of man; to suffer, and to die.<br/>
+Oh then, if ever through the ten years&rsquo; war<br/>
+The wise, the good Ulysses claim&rsquo;d thy care;<br/>
+If e&rsquo;er he join&rsquo;d thy council, or thy sword,<br/>
+True in his deed, and constant to his word;<br/>
+Far as thy mind through backward time can see<br/>
+Search all thy stores of faithful memory:<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis sacred truth I ask, and ask of thee.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To him experienced Nestor thus rejoin&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;O friend! what sorrows dost thou bring to mind!<br/>
+Shall I the long, laborious scene review,<br/>
+And open all the wounds of Greece anew?<br/>
+What toils by sea! where dark in quest of prey<br/>
+Dauntless we roved; Achilles led the way;<br/>
+What toils by land! where mix&rsquo;d in fatal fight<br/>
+Such numbers fell, such heroes sunk to night;<br/>
+There Ajax great, Achilles there the brave,<br/>
+There wise Patroclus, fill an early grave:<br/>
+There, too, my son&mdash;ah, once my best delight<br/>
+Once swift of foot, and terrible in fight;<br/>
+In whom stern courage with soft virtue join&rsquo;d<br/>
+A faultless body and a blameless mind;<br/>
+Antilochus&mdash;What more can I relate?<br/>
+How trace the tedious series of our fate?<br/>
+Not added years on years my task could close,<br/>
+The long historian of my country&rsquo;s woes;<br/>
+Back to thy native islands might&rsquo;st thou sail,<br/>
+And leave half-heard the melancholy tale.<br/>
+Nine painful years on that detested shore;<br/>
+What stratagems we form&rsquo;d, what toils we bore!<br/>
+Still labouring on, till scarce at last we found<br/>
+Great Jove propitious, and our conquest crown&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Far o&rsquo;er the rest thy mighty father shined,<br/>
+In wit, in prudence, and in force of mind.<br/>
+Art thou the son of that illustrious sire?<br/>
+With joy I grasp thee, and with love admire.<br/>
+So like your voices, and your words so wise,<br/>
+Who finds thee younger must consult his eyes.<br/>
+Thy sire and I were one; nor varied aught<br/>
+In public sentence, or in private thought;<br/>
+Alike to council or the assembly came,<br/>
+With equal souls, and sentiments the same.<br/>
+But when (by wisdom won) proud Ilion burn&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And in their ships the conquering Greeks return&rsquo;d,<br/>
+&rsquo;Twas God&rsquo;s high will the victors to divide,<br/>
+And turn the event, confounding human pride;<br/>
+Some he destroy&rsquo;d, some scatter&rsquo;d as the dust<br/>
+(Not all were prudent, and not all were just).<br/>
+Then Discord, sent by Pallas from above,<br/>
+Stern daughter of the great avenger Jove,<br/>
+The brother-kings inspired with fell debate;<br/>
+Who call&rsquo;d to council all the Achaian state,<br/>
+But call&rsquo;d untimely (not the sacred rite<br/>
+Observed, nor heedful of the setting light,<br/>
+Nor herald sword the session to proclaim),<br/>
+Sour with debauch, a reeling tribe they came.<br/>
+To these the cause of meeting they explain,<br/>
+And Menelaus moves to cross the main;<br/>
+Not so the king of men: he will&rsquo;d to stay,<br/>
+The sacred rites and hecatombs to pay,<br/>
+And calm Minerva&rsquo;s wrath. Oh blind to fate!<br/>
+The gods not lightly change their love, or hate.<br/>
+With ireful taunts each other they oppose,<br/>
+Till in loud tumult all the Greeks arose.<br/>
+Now different counsels every breast divide,<br/>
+Each burns with rancour to the adverse side;<br/>
+The unquiet night strange projects entertain&rsquo;d<br/>
+(So Jove, that urged us to our fate, ordain&rsquo;d).<br/>
+We with the rising morn our ships unmoor&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And brought our captives and our stores aboard;<br/>
+But half the people with respect obey&rsquo;d<br/>
+The king of men, and at his bidding stay&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Now on the wings of winds our course we keep<br/>
+(For God had smooth&rsquo;d the waters of the deep);<br/>
+For Tenedos we spread our eager oars,<br/>
+There land, and pay due victims to the powers;<br/>
+To bless our safe return, we join in prayer;<br/>
+But angry Jove dispersed our vows in air,<br/>
+And raised new discord. Then (so Heaven decreed)<br/>
+Ulysses first and Nestor disagreed!<br/>
+Wise as he was, by various counsels sway&rsquo;d,<br/>
+He there, though late, to please the monarch, stay&rsquo;d.<br/>
+But I, determined, stem the foamy floods,<br/>
+Warn&rsquo;d of the coming fury of the gods.<br/>
+With us, Tydides fear&rsquo;d, and urged his haste:<br/>
+And Menelaus came, but came the last,<br/>
+He join&rsquo;d our vessels in the Lesbian bay,<br/>
+While yet we doubted of our watery way;<br/>
+If to the right to urge the pilot&rsquo;s toil<br/>
+(The safer road), beside the Psyrian isle;<br/>
+Or the straight course to rocky Chios plough,<br/>
+And anchor under Mimas&rsquo; shaggy brow?<br/>
+We sought direction of the power divine:<br/>
+The god propitious gave the guiding sign;<br/>
+Through the mid seas he bid our navy steer,<br/>
+And in Euboea shun the woes we fear.<br/>
+The whistling winds already waked the sky;<br/>
+Before the whistling winds the vessels fly,<br/>
+With rapid swiftness cut the liquid way,<br/>
+And reach Gerestus at the point of day.<br/>
+There hecatombs of bulls, to Neptune slain,<br/>
+High-flaming please the monarch of the main.<br/>
+The fourth day shone, when all their labours o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+Tydides&rsquo; vessels touched the wish&rsquo;d-for shore.<br/>
+But I to Pylos scud before the gales,<br/>
+The god still breathing on my swelling sails;<br/>
+Separate from all, I safely landed here;<br/>
+Their fates or fortunes never reach&rsquo;d my ear.<br/>
+Yet what I learn&rsquo;d, attend; as here I sat,<br/>
+And ask&rsquo;d each voyager each hero&rsquo;s fate;<br/>
+Curious to know, and willing to relate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Safe reach&rsquo;d the Myrmidons their native land,<br/>
+Beneath Achilles&rsquo; warlike son&rsquo;s command.<br/>
+Those, whom the heir of great Apollo&rsquo;s art,<br/>
+Brave Philoctetes, taught to wing the dart;<br/>
+And those whom Idomen from Ilion&rsquo;s plain<br/>
+Had led, securely cross&rsquo;d the dreadful main<br/>
+How Agamemnon touch&rsquo;d his Argive coast,<br/>
+And how his life by fraud and force he lost,<br/>
+And how the murderer, paid his forfeit breath;<br/>
+What lands so distant from that scene of death<br/>
+But trembling heard the fame? and heard, admire.<br/>
+How well the son appeased his slaughter&rsquo;d sire!<br/>
+Ev&rsquo;n to the unhappy, that unjustly bleed,<br/>
+Heaven gives posterity, to avenge the deed.<br/>
+So fell Ægysthus; and mayest thou, my friend,<br/>
+(On whom the virtues of thy sire descend,)<br/>
+Make future times thy equal act adore,<br/>
+And be what brave Orestes was before!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The prudent youth replied: &ldquo;O thou the grace<br/>
+And lasting glory of the Grecian race!<br/>
+Just was the vengeance, and to latest days<br/>
+Shall long posterity resound the praise.<br/>
+Some god this arm with equal prowess bless!<br/>
+And the proud suitors shall its force confess;<br/>
+Injurious men! who while my soul is sore<br/>
+Of fresh affronts, are meditating more.<br/>
+But Heaven denies this honour to my hand,<br/>
+Nor shall my father repossess the land;<br/>
+The father&rsquo;s fortune never to return,<br/>
+And the sad son&rsquo;s to softer and to mourn!&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus he; and Nestor took the word: &ldquo;My son,<br/>
+Is it then true, as distant rumours run,<br/>
+That crowds of rivals for thy mother&rsquo;s charms<br/>
+Thy palace fill with insults and alarms?<br/>
+Say, is the fault, through tame submission, thine?<br/>
+Or leagued against thee, do thy people join,<br/>
+Moved by some oracle, or voice divine?<br/>
+And yet who knows, but ripening lies in fate<br/>
+An hour of vengeance for the afflicted state;<br/>
+When great Ulysses shall suppress these harms,<br/>
+Ulysses singly, or all Greece in arms.<br/>
+But if Athena, war&rsquo;s triumphant maid,<br/>
+The happy son will as the father aid,<br/>
+(Whose fame and safety was her constant care<br/>
+In every danger and in every war:<br/>
+Never on man did heavenly favour shine<br/>
+With rays so strong, distinguish&rsquo;d and divine,<br/>
+As those with which Minerva mark&rsquo;d thy sire)<br/>
+So might she love thee, so thy soul inspire!<br/>
+Soon should their hopes in humble dust be laid,<br/>
+And long oblivion of the bridal bed.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! no such hope (the prince with sighs replies)<br/>
+Can touch my breast; that blessing Heaven denies.<br/>
+Ev&rsquo;n by celestial favour were it given,<br/>
+Fortune or fate would cross the will of Heaven.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What words are these, and what imprudence thine?<br/>
+(Thus interposed the martial maid divine)<br/>
+Forgetful youth! but know, the Power above<br/>
+With ease can save each object of his love;<br/>
+Wide as his will, extends his boundless grace;<br/>
+Nor lost in time nor circumscribed by place.<br/>
+Happier his lot, who, many sorrows pass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Long labouring gains his natal shore at last;<br/>
+Than who, too speedy, hastes to end his life<br/>
+By some stern ruffian, or adulterous wife.<br/>
+Death only is the lot which none can miss,<br/>
+And all is possible to Heaven but this.<br/>
+The best, the dearest favourite of the sky,<br/>
+Must taste that cup, for man is born to die.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus check&rsquo;d, replied Ulysses&rsquo; prudent heir:<br/>
+&ldquo;Mentor, no more&mdash;the mournful thought forbear;<br/>
+For he no more must draw his country&rsquo;s breath,<br/>
+Already snatch&rsquo;d by fate, and the black doom of death!<br/>
+Pass we to other subjects; and engage<br/>
+On themes remote the venerable sage<br/>
+(Who thrice has seen the perishable kind<br/>
+Of men decay, and through three ages shined<br/>
+Like gods majestic, and like gods in mind);<br/>
+For much he knows, and just conclusions draws,<br/>
+From various precedents, and various laws.<br/>
+O son of Neleus! awful Nestor, tell<br/>
+How he, the mighty Agamemnon, fell;<br/>
+By what strange fraud Ægysthus wrought, relate<br/>
+(By force he could not) such a hero&rsquo;s fate?<br/>
+Live Menelaus not in Greece? or where<br/>
+Was then the martial brother&rsquo;s pious care?<br/>
+Condemn&rsquo;d perhaps some foreign shore to tread;<br/>
+Or sure Ægysthus had not dared the deed.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the full of days: Illustrious youth,<br/>
+Attend (though partly thou hast guess&rsquo;d) the truth.<br/>
+For had the martial Menelaus found<br/>
+The ruffian breathing yet on Argive ground;<br/>
+Nor earth had bid his carcase from the skies,<br/>
+Nor Grecian virgins shriek&rsquo;d his obsequies,<br/>
+But fowls obscene dismember&rsquo;d his remains,<br/>
+And dogs had torn him on the naked plains.<br/>
+While us the works of bloody Mars employ&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The wanton youth inglorious peace enjoy&rsquo;d:<br/>
+He stretch&rsquo;d at ease in Argos&rsquo; calm recess<br/>
+(Whose stately steeds luxuriant pastures bless),<br/>
+With flattery&rsquo;s insinuating art<br/>
+Soothed the frail queen, and poison&rsquo;d all her heart.<br/>
+At first, with worthy shame and decent pride,<br/>
+The royal dame his lawless suit denied.<br/>
+For virtue&rsquo;s image yet possess&rsquo;d her mind.<br/>
+Taught by a master of the tuneful kind;<br/>
+Atrides, parting for the Trojan war,<br/>
+Consign&rsquo;d the youthful consort to his care.<br/>
+True to his charge, the bard preserved her long<br/>
+In honour&rsquo;s limits; such the power of song.<br/>
+But when the gods these objects of their hate<br/>
+Dragg&rsquo;d to destruction by the links of fate;<br/>
+The bard they banish&rsquo;d from his native soil,<br/>
+And left all helpless in a desert isle;<br/>
+There he, the sweetest of the sacred train,<br/>
+Sung dying to the rocks, but sung in vain.<br/>
+Then virtue was no more; her guard away,<br/>
+She fell, to lust a voluntary prey.<br/>
+Even to the temple stalk&rsquo;d the adulterous spouse,<br/>
+With impious thanks, and mockery of the vows,<br/>
+With images, with garments, and with gold;<br/>
+And odorous fumes from loaded altars roll&rsquo;d.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Meantime from flaming Troy we cut the way<br/>
+With Menelaus, through the curling sea.<br/>
+But when to Sunium&rsquo;s sacred point we came,<br/>
+Crown&rsquo;d with the temple of the Athenian dame;<br/>
+Atride&rsquo;s pilot, Phrontes, there expired<br/>
+(Phrontes, of all the songs of men admired<br/>
+To steer the bounding bark with steady toil,<br/>
+When the storm thickens, and the billows boil);<br/>
+While yet he exercised the steerman&rsquo;s art,<br/>
+Apollo touch&rsquo;d him with his gentle dart;<br/>
+Even with the rudder in his hand, he fell.<br/>
+To pay whole honours to the shades of hell,<br/>
+We check&rsquo;d our haste, by pious office bound,<br/>
+And laid our old companion in the ground.<br/>
+And now the rites discharged, our course we keep<br/>
+Far on the gloomy bosom of the deep:<br/>
+Soon as Malae&rsquo;s misty tops arise,<br/>
+Sudden the Thunderer blackens all the skies,<br/>
+And the winds whistle, and the surges roll<br/>
+Mountains on mountains, and obscure the pole.<br/>
+The tempest scatters, and divides our fleet;<br/>
+Part, the storm urges on the coast of Crete,<br/>
+Where winding round the rich Cydonian plain,<br/>
+The streams of Jardan issue to the main.<br/>
+There stands a rock, high, eminent and steep,<br/>
+Whose shaggy brow o&rsquo;erhangs the shady deep,<br/>
+And views Gortyna on the western side;<br/>
+On this rough Auster drove the impetuous tide:<br/>
+With broken force the billows roll&rsquo;d away,<br/>
+And heaved the fleet into the neighb&rsquo;ring bay.<br/>
+Thus saved from death, they gain&rsquo;d the Phaæstan shores,<br/>
+With shatter&rsquo;d vessels and disabled oars;<br/>
+But five tall barks the winds and water toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Far from their fellows, on the Ægyptian coast.<br/>
+There wander&rsquo;d Menelaus through foreign shores<br/>
+Amassing gold, and gathering naval stores;<br/>
+While cursed Ægysthus the detested deed<br/>
+By fraud fulfilled, and his great brother bled.<br/>
+Seven years, the traitor rich Mycenae sway&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And his stern rule the groaning land obey&rsquo;d;<br/>
+The eighth, from Athens to his realm restored,<br/>
+Orestes brandish&rsquo;d the avenging sword,<br/>
+Slew the dire pair, and gave to funeral flame<br/>
+The vile assassin and adulterous dame.<br/>
+That day, ere yet the bloody triumphs cease,<br/>
+Return&rsquo;d Atrides to the coast of Greece,<br/>
+And safe to Argos port his navy brought,<br/>
+With gifts of price and ponderous treasure fraught.<br/>
+Hence warn&rsquo;d, my son, beware! nor idly stand<br/>
+Too long a stranger to thy native land;<br/>
+Lest heedless absence wear thy wealth away,<br/>
+While lawless feasters in thy palace away;<br/>
+Perhaps may seize thy realm, and share the spoil;<br/>
+And though return, with disappointed toil,<br/>
+From thy vain journey, to a rifled isle.<br/>
+However, my friend, indulge one labour more,<br/>
+And seek Atrides on the Spartan shore.<br/>
+He, wandering long a wider circle made,<br/>
+And many-languaged nations has survey&rsquo;d:<br/>
+And measured tracks unknown to other ships,<br/>
+Amid the monstrous wonders of the deeps,<br/>
+(A length of ocean and unbounded sky.<br/>
+Which scarce the sea-fowl in a year o&rsquo;erfly);<br/>
+Go then; to Sparta take the watery way,<br/>
+Thy ship and sailors but for orders stay;<br/>
+Or, if my land then choose thy course to bend,<br/>
+My steeds, my chariots, and my songs, attend;<br/>
+Thee to Atrides they shall safe convey,<br/>
+Guides of thy road, companions of thy way.<br/>
+Urge him with truth to frame his wise replies,<br/>
+And sure he will; for Menelaus is wise.&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus while he speaks the ruddy sun descends,<br/>
+And twilight grey her evening shade extends.<br/>
+Then thus the blue-eyed maid: &ldquo;O full of days!<br/>
+Wise are thy words, and just are all thy ways.<br/>
+Now immolate the tongues, and mix the wine,<br/>
+Sacred to Neptune and the powers divine,<br/>
+The lamp of day is quench&rsquo;d beneath the deep,<br/>
+And soft approach the balmy hours of sleep;<br/>
+Nor fits it to prolong the heavenly feast,<br/>
+Timeless, indecent, but retire to rest.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So spake Jove&rsquo;s daughter, the celestial maid,<br/>
+The sober train attended and obey&rsquo;d.<br/>
+The sacred heralds on their hands around<br/>
+Pour&rsquo;d the full urns; the youths the goblets crown&rsquo;d;<br/>
+From bowl to bowl the homely beverage flows;<br/>
+While to the final sacrifice they rose.<br/>
+The tongues they cast upon the fragrant flame,<br/>
+And pour, above, the consecrated stream.<br/>
+And now, their thirst by copious draughts allay&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The youthful hero and the Athenian maid<br/>
+Propose departure from the finish&rsquo;d rite,<br/>
+And in their hollow bark to pass the night;<br/>
+But this hospitable sage denied,<br/>
+&ldquo;Forbid it, Jove! and all the gods! (he cried),<br/>
+Thus from my walls and the much-loved son to send<br/>
+Of such a hero, and of such a friend!<br/>
+Me, as some needy peasant, would ye leave,<br/>
+Whom Heaven denies the blessing to relieve?<br/>
+Me would ye leave, who boast imperial sway,<br/>
+When beds of royal state invite your stay?<br/>
+No&mdash;long as life this mortal shall inspire,<br/>
+Or as my children imitate their sire.<br/>
+Here shall the wandering stranger find his home,<br/>
+And hospitable rites adorn the dome.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well hast thou spoke (the blue-eyed maid replies),<br/>
+Beloved old man! benevolent as wise.<br/>
+Be the kind dictates of thy heart obey&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And let thy words Telemachus persuade:<br/>
+He to thy palace shall thy steps pursue;<br/>
+I to the ship, to give the orders due,<br/>
+Prescribe directions and confirm the crew.<br/>
+For I alone sustain their naval cares,<br/>
+Who boast experience from these silver hairs;<br/>
+All youths the rest, whom to this journey move<br/>
+Like years, like tempers, and their prince&rsquo;s love<br/>
+There in the vessel shall I pass the night;<br/>
+And, soon as morning paints the fields of light,<br/>
+I go to challenge from the Caucons bold<br/>
+A debt, contracted in the days of old,<br/>
+But this, thy guest, received with friendly care<br/>
+Let thy strong coursers swift to Sparta bear;<br/>
+Prepare thy chariot at the dawn of day,<br/>
+And be thy son companion of his way.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, turning with the word, Minerva flies,<br/>
+And soars an eagle through the liquid skies.<br/>
+Vision divine! the throng&rsquo;d spectators gaze<br/>
+In holy wonder fix&rsquo;d, and still amaze.<br/>
+But chief the reverend sage admired; he took<br/>
+The hand of young Telemachus, and spoke:<br/>
+&ldquo;Oh, happy youth! and favoured of the skies,<br/>
+Distinguished care of guardian deities!<br/>
+Whose early years for future worth engage,<br/>
+No vulgar manhood, no ignoble age.<br/>
+For lo! none other of the course above,<br/>
+Then she, the daughter of almighty Jove,<br/>
+Pallas herself, the war-triumphant maid;<br/>
+Confess&rsquo;d is thine, as once thy father&rsquo;s aid.<br/>
+So guide me, goddess! so propitious shine<br/>
+On me, my consort, and my royal line!<br/>
+A yearling bullock to thy name shall smoke,<br/>
+Untamed, unconscious of the galling yoke,<br/>
+With ample forehead, and yet tender horns,<br/>
+Whose budding honours ductile gold adorns.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Submissive thus the hoary sire preferr&rsquo;d<br/>
+His holy vow: the favouring goddess heard.<br/>
+Then, slowly rising, o&rsquo;er the sandy space<br/>
+Precedes the father, follow&rsquo;d by his race,<br/>
+(A long procession) timely marching home<br/>
+In comely order to the regal dome.<br/>
+There when arrived, on thrones around him placed,<br/>
+His sons and grandsons the wide circle graced.<br/>
+To these the hospitable sage, in sign<br/>
+Of social welcome, mix&rsquo;d the racy wine<br/>
+(Late from the mellowing cask restored to light,<br/>
+By ten long years refined, and rosy bright).<br/>
+To Pallas high the foaming bowl he crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And sprinkled large libations on the ground.<br/>
+Each drinks a full oblivion of his cares,<br/>
+And to the gifts of balmy sleep repairs.<br/>
+Deep in a rich alcove the prince was laid,<br/>
+And slept beneath the pompous colonnade;<br/>
+Fast by his side Pisistratus was spread<br/>
+(In age his equal) on a splendid bed:<br/>
+But in an inner court, securely closed,<br/>
+The reverend Nestor and his queen reposed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When now Aurora, daughter of the dawn,<br/>
+With rosy lustre purpled o&rsquo;er the lawn,<br/>
+The old man early rose, walk&rsquo;d forth, and sate<br/>
+On polish&rsquo;d stone before his palace gate;<br/>
+With unguents smooth the lucid marble shone,<br/>
+Where ancient Neleus sate, a rustic throne;<br/>
+But he descending to the infernal shade,<br/>
+Sage Nestor fill&rsquo;d it, and the sceptre sway&rsquo;d.<br/>
+His sons around him mild obeisance pay,<br/>
+And duteous take the orders of the day.<br/>
+First Echephron and Stratius quit their bed;<br/>
+Then Perseus, Aretus, and Thrasymed;<br/>
+The last Pisistratus arose from rest:<br/>
+They came, and near him placed the stranger-guest.<br/>
+To these the senior thus declared his will:<br/>
+&ldquo;My sons! the dictates of your sire fulfil.<br/>
+To Pallas, first of gods, prepare the feast,<br/>
+Who graced our rites, a more than mortal guest<br/>
+Let one, despatchful, bid some swain to lead<br/>
+A well-fed bullock from the grassy mead;<br/>
+One seek the harbour where the vessels moor,<br/>
+And bring thy friends, Telemachus! ashore<br/>
+(Leave only two the galley to attend);<br/>
+Another Laerceus must we send,<br/>
+Artist devine, whose skilful hands infold<br/>
+The victim&rsquo;s horn with circumfusile gold.<br/>
+The rest may here the pious duty share,<br/>
+And bid the handmaids for the feast prepare,<br/>
+The seats to range, the fragrant wood to bring,<br/>
+And limpid waters from the living spring.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said, and busy each his care bestow&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Already at the gates the bullock low&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Already came the Ithacensian crew,<br/>
+The dexterous smith the tools already drew;<br/>
+His ponderous hammer and his anvil sound,<br/>
+And the strong tongs to turn the metal round.<br/>
+Nor was Minerva absent from the rite,<br/>
+She view&rsquo;d her honours, and enjoyed the sight,<br/>
+With reverend hand the king presents the gold,<br/>
+Which round the intorted horns the gilder roll&rsquo;d.<br/>
+So wrought as Pallas might with pride behold.<br/>
+Young Aretus from forth his bridal bower<br/>
+Brought the full laver, o&rsquo;er their hands to pour,<br/>
+And canisters of consecrated flour.<br/>
+Stratius and Echephron the victim led;<br/>
+The axe was held by warlike Thrasymed,<br/>
+In act to strike; before him Perseus stood,<br/>
+The vase extending to receive the blood.<br/>
+The king himself initiates to the power:<br/>
+Scatters with quivering hand the sacred flour,<br/>
+And the stream sprinkles; from the curling brows<br/>
+The hair collected in the fire he throws.<br/>
+Soon as due vows on every part were paid,<br/>
+And sacred wheat upon the victim laid,<br/>
+Strong Thrasymed discharged the speeding blow<br/>
+Full on his neck, and cut the nerves in two.<br/>
+Down sunk the heavy beast; the females round<br/>
+Maids, wives, and matrons, mix a shrilling sound.<br/>
+Nor scorned the queen the holy choir to join<br/>
+(The first born she, of old Clymenus&rsquo; line:<br/>
+In youth by Nestor loved, of spotless fame.<br/>
+And loved in age, Eurydice her name).<br/>
+From earth they rear him, struggling now with death;<br/>
+And Nestor&rsquo;s youngest stops the vents of breath.<br/>
+The soul for ever flies; on all sides round<br/>
+Streams the black blood, and smokes upon the ground<br/>
+The beast they then divide and disunite<br/>
+The ribs and limbs, observant of the rite:<br/>
+On these, in double cauls involved with art,<br/>
+The choicest morsels lay from every part.<br/>
+The sacred sage before his altar stands,<br/>
+Turns the burnt offering with his holy hands,<br/>
+And pours the wine, and bids the flames aspire;<br/>
+The youth with instruments surround the fire.<br/>
+The thighs now sacrificed, and entrails dress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The assistants part, transfix, and broil the rest<br/>
+While these officious tend the rites divine,<br/>
+The last fair branch of the Nestorean line,<br/>
+Sweet Polycaste, took the pleasing toil<br/>
+To bathe the prince, and pour the fragrant oil.<br/>
+O&rsquo;er his fair limbs a flowery vest he threw,<br/>
+And issued, like a god, to mortal view.<br/>
+His former seat beside the king he found<br/>
+(His people&rsquo;s father with his peers around);<br/>
+All placed at ease the holy banquet join,<br/>
+And in the dazzling goblet laughs the wine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The rage of thirst and hunger now suppress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The monarch turns him to his royal guest;<br/>
+And for the promised journey bids prepare<br/>
+The smooth hair&rsquo;d horses, and the rapid car.<br/>
+Observant of his word, the word scarce spoke,<br/>
+The sons obey, and join them to the yoke.<br/>
+Then bread and wine a ready handmaid brings,<br/>
+And presents, such as suit the state of kings.<br/>
+The glittering seat Telemachus ascends;<br/>
+His faithful guide Pisistratus attends;<br/>
+With hasty hand the ruling reins he drew;<br/>
+He lash&rsquo;d the coursers, and the coursers flew.<br/>
+Beneath the bounding yoke alike they hold<br/>
+Their equal pace, and smoked along the field.<br/>
+The towers of Pylos sink, its views decay,<br/>
+Fields after fields fly back, till close of day;<br/>
+Then sunk the sun, and darken&rsquo;d all the way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To Pherae now, Diocleus&rsquo; stately seat<br/>
+(Of Alpheus&rsquo; race), the weary youths retreat.<br/>
+His house affords the hospitable rite,<br/>
+And pleased they sleep (the blessing of the night).<br/>
+But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,<br/>
+With rosy lustre purpled o&rsquo;er the lawn,<br/>
+Again they mount, their journey to renew,<br/>
+And from the sounding portico they flew.<br/>
+Along the waving fields their way they hold<br/>
+The fields receding as their chariot roll&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Then slowly sunk the ruddy globe of light,<br/>
+And o&rsquo;er the shaded landscape rush&rsquo;d the night.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap04"></a>BOOK IV.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE CONFERENCE WITH MENELAUS.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Telemachus with Pisistratus arriving at Sparta, is hospitably received by
+Menelaus to whom he relates the cause of his coming, and learns from him many
+particulars of what befell the Greeks since the destruction of Troy. He dwells
+more at large upon the prophecies of Proteus to him in his return; from which
+he acquaints Telemachus that Ulysses is detained in the island of Calypso.<br/>
+    In the meantime the suitors consult to destroy Telemachus on the voyage
+home. Penelope is apprised of this; but comforted in a dream by Pallas, in the
+shape of her sister Iphthima.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+And now proud Sparta with their wheels resounds,<br/>
+Sparta whose walls a range of hills surrounds;<br/>
+At the fair dome the rapid labour ends;<br/>
+Where sate Atrides &rsquo;midst his bridal friends,<br/>
+With double vows invoking Hymen&rsquo;s power,<br/>
+To bless his son&rsquo;s and daughter&rsquo;s nuptial hour.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That day, to great Achilles&rsquo; son resign&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Hermione, the fairest of her kind,<br/>
+Was sent to crown the long-protracted joy,<br/>
+Espoused before the final doom of Troy;<br/>
+With steeds and gilded cars, a gorgeous train<br/>
+Attend the nymphs to Phthia&rsquo;s distant reign.<br/>
+Meanwhile at home, to Megapenthe&rsquo;s bed<br/>
+The virgin choir Alector&rsquo;s daughter led.<br/>
+Brave Megapenthes from a stolen amour<br/>
+To great Atrides&rsquo; age his handmaid bore;<br/>
+To Helen&rsquo;s bed the gods alone assign<br/>
+Hermione, to extend the regal line;<br/>
+On whom a radiant pomp of Graces wait,<br/>
+Resembling Venus in attractive state.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While this gay friendly troop the king surround,<br/>
+With festival and mirth the roofs resound;<br/>
+A bard amid the joyous circle sings<br/>
+High airs attemper&rsquo;d to the vocal strings;<br/>
+Whilst warbling to the varied strain, advance<br/>
+Two sprightly youths to form the bounding dance,<br/>
+&rsquo;Twas then, that issuing through the palace gate,<br/>
+The splendid car roll&rsquo;d slow in regal state:<br/>
+On the bright eminence young Nestor shone,<br/>
+And fast beside him great Ulysses&rsquo; son;<br/>
+Grave Eteoneus saw the pomp appear,<br/>
+And speeding, thus address&rsquo;d the royal ear;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Two youths approach, whose semblant features prove<br/>
+Their blood devolving from the source of Jove<br/>
+Is due reception deign&rsquo;d, or must they bend<br/>
+Their doubtful course to seek a distant friend?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Insensate! (with a sigh the king replies,)<br/>
+Too long, misjudging, have I thought thee wise<br/>
+But sure relentless folly steels thy breast,<br/>
+Obdurate to reject the stranger-guest;<br/>
+To those dear hospitable rites a foe,<br/>
+Which in my wanderings oft relieved my woe;<br/>
+Fed by the bounty of another&rsquo;s board,<br/>
+Till pitying Jove my native realm restored&mdash;<br/>
+Straight be the coursers from the car released,<br/>
+Conduct the youths to grace the genial feast.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The seneschal, rebuked, in haste withdrew;<br/>
+With equal haste a menial train pursue:<br/>
+Part led the coursers, from the car enlarged,<br/>
+Each to a crib with choicest grain surcharged;<br/>
+Part in a portico, profusely graced<br/>
+With rich magnificence, the chariot placed;<br/>
+Then to the dome the friendly pair invite,<br/>
+Who eye the dazzling roofs with vast delight;<br/>
+Resplendent as the blaze of summer noon,<br/>
+Or the pale radiance of the midnight moon.<br/>
+From room to room their eager view they bend<br/>
+Thence to the bath, a beauteous pile, descend;<br/>
+Where a bright damsel train attends the guests<br/>
+With liquid odours, and embroider&rsquo;d vests.<br/>
+Refresh&rsquo;d, they wait them to the bower of state,<br/>
+Where, circled with his peers, Atrides sate;<br/>
+Throned next the king, a fair attendant brings<br/>
+The purest product of the crystal springs;<br/>
+High on a massy vase of silver mould,<br/>
+The burnish&rsquo;d laver flames with solid gold,<br/>
+In solid gold the purple vintage flows,<br/>
+And on the board a second banquet rose.<br/>
+When thus the king, with hospitable port;<br/>
+&ldquo;Accept this welcome to the Spartan court:<br/>
+The waste of nature let the feast repair,<br/>
+Then your high lineage and your names declare;<br/>
+Say from what sceptred ancestry ye claim,<br/>
+Recorded eminent in deathless fame,<br/>
+For vulgar parents cannot stamp their race<br/>
+With signatures of such majestic grace.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ceasing, benevolent he straight assigns<br/>
+The royal portion of the choicest chines<br/>
+To each accepted friend; with grateful haste<br/>
+They share the honours of the rich repast.<br/>
+Sufficed, soft whispering thus to Nestor&rsquo;s son,<br/>
+His head reclined, young Ithacus begun:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;View&rsquo;st thou unmoved, O ever-honour&rsquo;d most!<br/>
+These prodigies of art, and wondrous cost!<br/>
+Above, beneath, around the palace shines<br/>
+The sunless treasure of exhausted mines;<br/>
+The spoils of elephants the roofs inlay,<br/>
+And studded amber darts the golden ray;<br/>
+Such, and not nobler, in the realms above<br/>
+My wonder dictates is the dome of Jove.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The monarch took the word, and grave replied:<br/>
+&ldquo;Presumptuous are the vaunts, and vain the pride<br/>
+Of man, who dares in pomp with Jove contest,<br/>
+Unchanged, immortal, and supremely blest!<br/>
+With all my affluence, when my woes are weigh&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Envy will own the purchase dearly paid.<br/>
+For eight slow-circling years, by tempests toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+From Cypress to the far Phoenician coast<br/>
+(Sidon the capital), I stretch&rsquo;d my toil<br/>
+Through regions fatten&rsquo;d with the flows of Nile.<br/>
+Next Aethiopia&rsquo;s utmost bound explore,<br/>
+And the parch&rsquo;d borders of the Arabian shore;<br/>
+Then warp my voyage on the southern gales,<br/>
+O&rsquo;er the warm Lybian wave to spread my sails;<br/>
+That happy clime, where each revolving year<br/>
+The teeming ewes a triple offspring bear;<br/>
+And two fair crescents of translucent horn<br/>
+The brows of all their young increase adorn:<br/>
+The shepherd swains, with sure abundance blest,<br/>
+On the fat flock and rural dainties feast;<br/>
+Nor want of herbage makes the dairy fail,<br/>
+But every season fills the foaming pail.<br/>
+Whilst, heaping unwash&rsquo;d wealth, I distant roam,<br/>
+The best of brothers, at his natal home,<br/>
+By the dire fury of a traitress wife,<br/>
+Ends the sad evening of a stormy life;<br/>
+Whence, with incessant grief my soul annoy&rsquo;d,<br/>
+These riches are possess&rsquo;d, but not enjoy&rsquo;d!<br/>
+My wars, the copious theme of every tongue,<br/>
+To you your fathers have recorded long.<br/>
+How favouring Heaven repaid my glorious toils<br/>
+With a sack&rsquo;d palace, and barbaric spoils.<br/>
+Oh! had the gods so large a boon denied<br/>
+And life, the just equivalent supplied<br/>
+To those brave warriors, who, with glory fired<br/>
+Far from their country, in my cause expired!<br/>
+Still in short intervals of pleasing woe.<br/>
+Regardful of the friendly dues I owe,<br/>
+I to the glorious dead, for ever dear!<br/>
+Indulge the tribute of a grateful tear.<br/>
+But oh! Ulysses&mdash;deeper than the rest<br/>
+That sad idea wounds my anxious breast!<br/>
+My heart bleeds fresh with agonizing pain;<br/>
+The bowl and tasteful viands tempt in vain;<br/>
+Nor sleep&rsquo;s soft power can close my streaming eyes,<br/>
+When imaged to my soul his sorrows rise.<br/>
+No peril in my cause he ceased to prove,<br/>
+His labours equall&rsquo;d only by my love:<br/>
+And both alike to bitter fortune born,<br/>
+For him to suffer, and for me to mourn!<br/>
+Whether he wanders on some friendly coast,<br/>
+Or glides in Stygian gloom a pensive ghost,<br/>
+No fame reveals; but, doubtful of his doom,<br/>
+His good old sire with sorrow to the tomb<br/>
+Declines his trembling steps; untimely care<br/>
+Withers the blooming vigour of his heir;<br/>
+And the chaste partner of his bed and throne<br/>
+Wastes all her widow&rsquo;d hours in tender moan.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While thus pathetic to the prince he spoke,<br/>
+From the brave youth the streaming passion broke;<br/>
+Studious to veil the grief, in vain repress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+His face he shrouded with his purple vest.<br/>
+The conscious monarch pierced the coy disguise,<br/>
+And view&rsquo;d his filial love with vast surprise:<br/>
+Dubious to press the tender theme, or wait<br/>
+To hear the youth inquire his father&rsquo;s fate.<br/>
+In this suspense bright Helen graced the room;<br/>
+Before her breathed a gale of rich perfume.<br/>
+So moves, adorn&rsquo;d with each attractive grace,<br/>
+The silver shafted goddess of the chase!<br/>
+The seat of majesty Adraste brings,<br/>
+With art illustrious, for the pomp of kings;<br/>
+To spread the pall (beneath the regal chair)<br/>
+Of softest wool, is bright Alcippe&rsquo;s care.<br/>
+A silver canister, divinely wrought,<br/>
+In her soft hands the beauteous Phylo brought;<br/>
+To Sparta&rsquo;s queen of old the radiant vase<br/>
+Alcandra gave, a pledge of royal grace;<br/>
+For Polybus her lord (whose sovereign sway<br/>
+The wealthy tribes of Pharian Thebes obey),<br/>
+When to that court Atrides came, caress&rsquo;d<br/>
+With vast munificence the imperial guest:<br/>
+Two lavers from the richest ore refined,<br/>
+With silver tripods, the kind host assign&rsquo;d;<br/>
+And bounteous from the royal treasure told<br/>
+Ten equal talents of refulgent gold.<br/>
+Alcandra, consort of his high command,<br/>
+A golden distaff gave to Helen&rsquo;s hand;<br/>
+And that rich vase, with living sculpture wrought,<br/>
+Which heap&rsquo;d with wool the beauteous Phylo brought<br/>
+The silken fleece, impurpled for the loom,<br/>
+Rivall&rsquo;d the hyacinth in vernal bloom.<br/>
+The sovereign seat then Jove born Helen press&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And pleasing thus her sceptred lord address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who grace our palace now, that friendly pair,<br/>
+Speak they their lineage, or their names declare?<br/>
+Uncertain of the truth, yet uncontroll&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Hear me the bodings of my breast unfold.<br/>
+With wonder wrapp&rsquo;d on yonder check I trace<br/>
+The feature of the Ulyssean race:<br/>
+Diffused o&rsquo;er each resembling line appear,<br/>
+In just similitude, the grace and air<br/>
+Of young Telemachus! the lovely boy,<br/>
+Who bless&rsquo;d Ulysses with a father&rsquo;s joy,<br/>
+What time the Greeks combined their social arms,<br/>
+To avenge the stain of my ill-fated charms!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just is thy thought, (the king assenting cries,)<br/>
+Methinks Ulysses strikes my wondering eyes;<br/>
+Full shines the father in the filial frame,<br/>
+His port, his features, and his shape the same;<br/>
+Such quick regards his sparkling eyes bestow;<br/>
+Such wavy ringlets o&rsquo;er his shoulders flow<br/>
+And when he heard the long disastrous store<br/>
+Of cares, which in my cause Ulysses bore;<br/>
+Dismay&rsquo;d, heart-wounded with paternal woes,<br/>
+Above restraint the tide of sorrow rose;<br/>
+Cautious to let the gushing grief appear,<br/>
+His purple garment veil&rsquo;d the falling tear.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;See there confess&rsquo;d (Pisistratus replies)<br/>
+The genuine worth of Ithacus the wise!<br/>
+Of that heroic sire the youth is sprung,<br/>
+But modest awe hath chain&rsquo;d his timorous tongue.<br/>
+Thy voice, O king! with pleased attention heard,<br/>
+Is like the dictates of a god revered.<br/>
+With him, at Nestor&rsquo;s high command, I came,<br/>
+Whose age I honour with a parent&rsquo;s name.<br/>
+By adverse destiny constrained to sue<br/>
+For counsel and redress, he sues to you<br/>
+Whatever ill the friendless orphan bears,<br/>
+Bereaved of parents in his infant years,<br/>
+Still must the wrong&rsquo;d Telemachus sustain,<br/>
+If, hopeful of your aid, he hopes in vain;<br/>
+Affianced in your friendly power alone,<br/>
+The youth would vindicate the vacant throne.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is Sparta blest, and these desiring eyes<br/>
+View my friend&rsquo;s son? (the king exalting cries;)<br/>
+Son of my friend, by glorious toils approved,<br/>
+Whose sword was sacred to the man he loved;<br/>
+Mirror of constant faith, revered and mourn&rsquo;d&mdash;<br/>
+When Troy was ruin&rsquo;d, had the chief return&rsquo;d,<br/>
+No Greek an equal space had ere possess&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Of dear affection, in my grateful breast.<br/>
+I, to confirm the mutual joys we shared,<br/>
+For his abode a capital prepared;<br/>
+Argos, the seat of sovereign rule, I chose;<br/>
+Fair in the plan the future palace rose,<br/>
+Where my Ulysses and his race might reign,<br/>
+And portion to his tribes the wide domain,<br/>
+To them my vassals had resign&rsquo;d a soil,<br/>
+With teeming plenty to reward their toil.<br/>
+There with commutual zeal we both had strove<br/>
+In acts of dear benevolence and love:<br/>
+Brothers in peace, not rivals in command,<br/>
+And death alone dissolved the friendly band!<br/>
+Some envious power the blissful scene destroys;<br/>
+Vanish&rsquo;d are all the visionary joys;<br/>
+The soul of friendship to my hope is lost,<br/>
+Fated to wander from his natal coast!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He ceased; a gush of grief began to rise:<br/>
+Fast streams a tide from beauteous Helen&rsquo;s eyes;<br/>
+Fast for the sire the filial sorrows flow;<br/>
+The weeping monarch swells the mighty woe;<br/>
+Thy cheeks, Pisistratus, the tears bedew,<br/>
+While pictured so thy mind appear&rsquo;d in view,<br/>
+Thy martial brother; on the Phrygian plain<br/>
+Extended pale, by swarthy Memnon slain!<br/>
+But silence soon the son of Nestor broke,<br/>
+And melting with fraternal pity, spoke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Frequent, O king, was Nestor wont to raise<br/>
+And charm attention with thy copious praise;<br/>
+To crowd thy various gifts, the sage assign&rsquo;d<br/>
+The glory of a firm capacious mind;<br/>
+With that superior attribute control<br/>
+This unavailing impotence of soul,<br/>
+Let not your roof with echoing grief resound,<br/>
+Now for the feast the friendly bowl is crown&rsquo;d;<br/>
+But when, from dewy shade emerging bright,<br/>
+Aurora streaks the sky with orient light,<br/>
+Let each deplore his dead; the rites of woe<br/>
+Are all, alas! the living can bestow;<br/>
+O&rsquo;er the congenial dust enjoin&rsquo;d to shear<br/>
+The graceful curl, and drop the tender tear.<br/>
+Then, mingling in the mournful pomp with you,<br/>
+I&rsquo;ll pay my brother&rsquo;s ghost a warrior&rsquo;s due,<br/>
+And mourn the brave Antilochus, a name<br/>
+Not unrecorded in the rolls of fame;<br/>
+With strength and speed superior form&rsquo;d, in fight<br/>
+To face the foe, or intercept his flight;<br/>
+Too early snatch&rsquo;d by fate ere known to me!<br/>
+I boast a witness of his worth in thee.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Young and mature! (the monarch thus rejoins,)<br/>
+In thee renew&rsquo;d the soul of Nestor shines;<br/>
+Form&rsquo;d by the care of that consummate sage,<br/>
+In early bloom an oracle of age.<br/>
+Whene&rsquo;er his influence Jove vouchsafes to shower,<br/>
+To bless the natal and the nuptial hour;<br/>
+From the great sire transmissive to the race,<br/>
+The boon devolving gives distinguish&rsquo;d grace.<br/>
+Such, happy Nestor! was thy glorious doom,<br/>
+Around thee, full of years, thy offspring bloom.<br/>
+Expert of arms, and prudent in debate;<br/>
+The gifts of Heaven to guard thy hoary state.<br/>
+But now let each becalm his troubled breast,<br/>
+Wash, and partake serene the friendly feast.<br/>
+To move thy suit, Telemachus, delay,<br/>
+Till heaven&rsquo;s revolving lamp restores the day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said, Asphalion swift the laver brings;<br/>
+Alternate, all partake the grateful springs;<br/>
+Then from the rites of purity repair,<br/>
+And with keen gust the savoury viands share.<br/>
+Meantime, with genial joy to warm the soul,<br/>
+Bright Helen mix&rsquo;d a mirth inspiring bowl;<br/>
+Temper&rsquo;d with drugs of sovereign use, to assuage<br/>
+The boiling bosom of tumultuous rage;<br/>
+To clear the cloudy front of wrinkled Care,<br/>
+And dry the tearful sluices of Despair;<br/>
+Charm&rsquo;d with that virtuous draught, the exalted mind<br/>
+All sense of woe delivers to the wind.<br/>
+Though on the blazing pile his parent lay,<br/>
+Or a loved brother groan&rsquo;d his life away,<br/>
+Or darling son, oppress&rsquo;d by ruffian force,<br/>
+Fell breathless at his feet, a mangled corse;<br/>
+From morn to eve, impassive and serene,<br/>
+The man entranced would view the dreadful scene.<br/>
+These drugs, so friendly to the joys of life,<br/>
+Bright Helen learn&rsquo;d from Thone&rsquo;s imperial wife;<br/>
+Who sway&rsquo;d the sceptre, where prolific Nile<br/>
+With various simples clothes the fatten&rsquo;d soil.<br/>
+With wholesome herbage mix&rsquo;d, the direful bane<br/>
+Of vegetable venom taints the plain;<br/>
+From Paeon sprung, their patron-god imparts<br/>
+To all the Pharian race his healing arts.<br/>
+The beverage now prepared to inspire the feast,<br/>
+The circle thus the beauteous queen addressed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Throned in omnipotence, supremest Jove<br/>
+Tempers the fates of human race above;<br/>
+By the firm sanction of his sovereign will,<br/>
+Alternate are decreed our good and ill.<br/>
+To feastful mirth be this white hour assign&rsquo;d.<br/>
+And sweet discourse, the banquet of the mind<br/>
+Myself, assisting in the social joy,<br/>
+Will tell Ulysses&rsquo; bold exploit in Troy,<br/>
+Sole witness of the deed I now declare<br/>
+Speak you (who saw) his wonders in the war.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Seam&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er with wounds, which his own sabre gave,<br/>
+In the vile habit of a village slave,<br/>
+The foe deceived, he pass&rsquo;d the tented plain,<br/>
+In Troy to mingle with the hostile train.<br/>
+In this attire secure from searching eyes,<br/>
+Till happily piercing through the dark disguise,<br/>
+The chief I challenged; he, whose practised wit<br/>
+Knew all the serpent mazes of deceit,<br/>
+Eludes my search; but when his form I view&rsquo;d<br/>
+Fresh from the bath, with fragrant oils renew&rsquo;d,<br/>
+His limbs in military purple dress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Each brightening grace the genuine Greek confess&rsquo;d.<br/>
+A previous pledge of sacred faith obtain&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Till he the lines and Argive fleet regain&rsquo;d,<br/>
+To keep his stay conceal&rsquo;d; the chief declared<br/>
+The plans of war against the town prepared.<br/>
+Exploring then the secrets of the state,<br/>
+He learn&rsquo;d what best might urge the Dardan fate;<br/>
+And, safe returning to the Grecian host,<br/>
+Sent many a shade to Pluto&rsquo;s dreary coast.<br/>
+Loud grief resounded through the towers of Troy,<br/>
+But my pleased bosom glow&rsquo;d with secret joy:<br/>
+For then, with dire remorse and conscious shame<br/>
+I view&rsquo;d the effects of that disastrous flame,<br/>
+Which, kindled by the imperious queen of love,<br/>
+Constrain&rsquo;d me from my native realm to rove:<br/>
+And oft in bitterness of soul deplored<br/>
+My absent daughter and my dearer lord;<br/>
+Admired among the first of human race,<br/>
+For every gift of mind and manly grace.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Right well (replied the king) your speech displays<br/>
+The matchless merit of the chief you praise:<br/>
+Heroes in various climes myself have found,<br/>
+For martial deeds and depth of thought renown&rsquo;d;<br/>
+But Ithacus, unrivall&rsquo;d in his claim,<br/>
+May boast a title to the loudest fame:<br/>
+In battle calm he guides the rapid storm,<br/>
+Wise to resolve, and patient to perform.<br/>
+What wondrous conduct in the chief appear&rsquo;d,<br/>
+When the vast fabric of the steed we rear&rsquo;d!<br/>
+Some demon, anxious for the Trojan doom,<br/>
+Urged you with great Deiphobus to come,<br/>
+To explore the fraud; with guile opposed to guile.<br/>
+Slow-pacing thrice around the insidious pile,<br/>
+Each noted leader&rsquo;s name you thrice invoke,<br/>
+Your accent varying as their spouses spoke!<br/>
+The pleasing sounds each latent warrior warm&rsquo;d,<br/>
+But most Tydides&rsquo; and my heart alarm&rsquo;d:<br/>
+To quit the steed we both impatient press<br/>
+Threatening to answer from the dark recess.<br/>
+Unmoved the mind of Ithacus remain&rsquo;d;<br/>
+And the vain ardours of our love restrain&rsquo;d;<br/>
+But Anticlus, unable to control,<br/>
+Spoke loud the language of his yearning soul:<br/>
+Ulysses straight, with indignation fired<br/>
+(For so the common care of Greece required),<br/>
+Firm to his lips his forceful hands applied,<br/>
+Till on his tongue the fluttering murmurs died.<br/>
+Meantime Minerva, from the fraudful horse,<br/>
+Back to the court of Priam bent your course.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Inclement fate! (Telemachus replies,)<br/>
+Frail is the boasted attribute of wise:<br/>
+The leader mingling with the vulgar host,<br/>
+Is in the common mass of matter lost!<br/>
+But now let sleep the painful waste repair<br/>
+Of sad reflection and corroding care.&rdquo;<br/>
+He ceased; the menial fair that round her wait,<br/>
+At Helen&rsquo;s beck prepare the room of state;<br/>
+Beneath an ample portico they spread<br/>
+The downy fleece to form the slumberous bed;<br/>
+And o&rsquo;er soft palls of purple grain unfold<br/>
+Rich tapestry, stiff with interwoven gold:<br/>
+Then, through the illumined dome, to balmy rest<br/>
+The obsequious herald guides each princely guest;<br/>
+While to his regal bower the king ascends,<br/>
+And beauteous Helen on her lord attends.<br/>
+Soon as the morn, in orient purple dress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Unbarr&rsquo;d the portal of the roseate east,<br/>
+The monarch rose; magnificent to view,<br/>
+The imperial mantle o&rsquo;er his vest he threw;<br/>
+The glittering zone athwart his shoulders cast,<br/>
+A starry falchion low-depending graced;<br/>
+Clasp&rsquo;d on his feet the embroidered sandals shine;<br/>
+And forth he moves, majestic and divine,<br/>
+Instant to young Telemachus he press&rsquo;d;<br/>
+And thus benevolent his speech addressed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say, royal youth, sincere of soul report<br/>
+Whit cause hath led you to the Spartan court?<br/>
+Do public or domestic care constrain<br/>
+This toilsome voyage o&rsquo;er the surgy main?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O highly-favour&rsquo;d delegate of Jove!<br/>
+(Replies the prince) inflamed with filial love,<br/>
+And anxious hope, to hear my parent&rsquo;s doom,<br/>
+A suppliant to your royal court I come:<br/>
+Our sovereign seat a lewd usurping race<br/>
+With lawless riot and misrule disgrace;<br/>
+To pamper&rsquo;d insolence devoted fall<br/>
+Prime of the flock, and choicest of the stall:<br/>
+For wild ambition wings their bold desire,<br/>
+And all to mount the imperial bed aspire.<br/>
+But prostrate I implore, O king! relate<br/>
+The mournful series of my father&rsquo;s fate:<br/>
+Each known disaster of the man disclose,<br/>
+Born by his mother to a world of woes!<br/>
+Recite them; nor in erring pity fear<br/>
+To wound with storied grief the filial ear.<br/>
+If e&rsquo;er Ulysses, to reclaim your right,<br/>
+Avow&rsquo;d his zeal in council or in fight,<br/>
+If Phrygian camps the friendly toils attest,<br/>
+To the sire&rsquo;s merit give the son&rsquo;s request.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Deep from his inmost soul Atrides sigh&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And thus, indignant, to the prince replied:<br/>
+&ldquo;Heavens! would a soft, inglorious, dastard train<br/>
+An absent hero&rsquo;s nuptial joys profane!<br/>
+So with her young, amid the woodland shades,<br/>
+A timorous hind the lion&rsquo;s court invades,<br/>
+Leaves in the fatal lair the tender fawns,<br/>
+Climbs the green cliff, or feeds the flowery lawns:<br/>
+Meantime return&rsquo;d, with dire remorseless sway,<br/>
+The monarch-savage rends the trembling prey.<br/>
+With equal fury, and with equal fame,<br/>
+Ulysses soon shall reassert his claim.<br/>
+O Jove supreme, whom gods and men revere!<br/>
+And thou! to whom &rsquo;tis given to gild the sphere!<br/>
+With power congenial join&rsquo;d, propitious aid<br/>
+The chief adopted by the martial maid!<br/>
+Such to our wish the warrior soon restore,<br/>
+As when contending on the Lesbian shore<br/>
+His prowess Philomelidies confess&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And loud-acclaiming Greeks the victor bless&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Then soon the invaders of his bed and throne<br/>
+Their love presumptuous shall with life atone.<br/>
+With patient ear, O royal youth, attend<br/>
+The storied labour of thy father&rsquo;s friend:<br/>
+Fruitful of deeds, the copious tale is long,<br/>
+But truth severe shall dictate to my tongue:<br/>
+Learn what I heard the sea-born seer relate,<br/>
+Whose eye can pierce the dark recess of fate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Long on the Egyptian coast by calms confined,<br/>
+Heaven to my fleet refused a prosperous wind;<br/>
+No vows had we preferr&rsquo;d, nor victims slain!<br/>
+For this the gods each favouring gale restrain<br/>
+Jealous, to see their high behests obey&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Severe, if men the eternal rights evade.<br/>
+High o&rsquo;er a gulfy sea, the Pharian isle<br/>
+Fronts the deep roar of disemboguing Nile:<br/>
+Her distance from the shore, the course begun<br/>
+At dawn, and ending with the setting sun,<br/>
+A galley measures; when the stiffer gales<br/>
+Rise on the poop, and fully stretch the sails.<br/>
+There, anchor&rsquo;d vessels safe in harbour lie,<br/>
+Whilst limpid springs the failing cask supply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now the twentieth sun, descending, laves<br/>
+His glowing axle in the western waves:<br/>
+Still with expanded sails we court in vain<br/>
+Propitious winds to waft us o&rsquo;er the main;<br/>
+And the pale mariner at once deplores<br/>
+His drooping vigour and exhausted stores.<br/>
+When lo! a bright cerulean form appears,<br/>
+Proteus her sire divine. With pity press&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Me sole the daughter of the deep address&rsquo;d;<br/>
+What time, with hunger pined, my absent mates<br/>
+Roam the wide isle in search of rural cates,<br/>
+Bait the barb&rsquo;d steel, and from the fishy flood<br/>
+Appease the afflictive fierce desire of food.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Whoe&rsquo;er thou art (the azure goddess cries)<br/>
+Thy conduct ill-deserves the praise of wise:<br/>
+Is death thy choice, or misery thy boast,<br/>
+That here inglorious, on a barren coast,<br/>
+Thy brave associates droop, a meagre train,<br/>
+With famine pale, and ask thy care in vain?&rsquo;<br/>
+&ldquo;Struck with the loud reproach, I straight reply:<br/>
+&lsquo;Whate&rsquo;er thy title in thy native sky,<br/>
+A goddess sure! for more than moral grace<br/>
+Speaks thee descendant of ethereal race;<br/>
+Deem not that here of choice my fleet remains;<br/>
+Some heavenly power averse my stay constrains:<br/>
+O, piteous of my fate, vouchsafe to show<br/>
+(For what&rsquo;s sequester&rsquo;d from celestial view?)<br/>
+What power becalms the innavigable seas?<br/>
+What guilt provokes him, and what vows appease?&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I ceased, when affable the goddess cried:<br/>
+&lsquo;Observe, and in the truths I speak confide;<br/>
+The oracular seer frequents the Pharian coast,<br/>
+From whose high bed my birth divine I boast;<br/>
+Proteus, a name tremendous o&rsquo;er the main,<br/>
+The delegate of Neptune&rsquo;s watery reign.<br/>
+Watch with insidious care his known abode;<br/>
+There fast in chains constrain the various god;<br/>
+Who bound, obedient to superior force,<br/>
+Unerring will prescribe your destined course.<br/>
+If, studious on your realms, you then demand<br/>
+Their state, since last you left your natal land,<br/>
+Instant the god obsequious will disclose<br/>
+Bright tracts of glory or a cloud of woes.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She ceased; and suppliant thus I made reply:<br/>
+&lsquo;O goddess! on thy aid my hopes rely;<br/>
+Dictate propitious to my duteous ear,<br/>
+What arts can captivate the changeful seer;<br/>
+For perilous the assay, unheard the toil,<br/>
+To elude the prescience of a god by guile.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus to the goddess mild my suit I end.<br/>
+Then she: &lsquo;Obedient to my rule attend:<br/>
+When through the zone of heaven the mounted sun<br/>
+Hath journeyed half, and half remains to run;<br/>
+The seer, while zephyrs curl the swelling deep,<br/>
+Basks on the breezy shore, in grateful sleep,<br/>
+His oozy limbs. Emerging from the wave,<br/>
+The Phocas swift surround his rocky cave,<br/>
+Frequent and full; the consecrated train<br/>
+Of her, whose azure trident awes the main;<br/>
+There wallowing warm, the enormous herd exhales<br/>
+An oily steam, and taints the noontide gales.<br/>
+To that recess, commodious for surprise,<br/>
+When purple light shall next suffuse the skies,<br/>
+With me repair; and from thy warrior-band<br/>
+Three chosen chiefs of dauntless soul command;<br/>
+Let their auxiliar force befriend the toil;<br/>
+For strong the god, and perfected in guile.<br/>
+Stretch&rsquo;d on the shelly shore, he first surveys<br/>
+The flouncing herd ascending from the seas;<br/>
+Their number summ&rsquo;d, reposed in sleep profound<br/>
+The scaly charge their guardian god surround;<br/>
+So with his battening flocks the careful swain<br/>
+Abides pavilion&rsquo;d on the grassy plain.<br/>
+With powers united, obstinately bold,<br/>
+Invade him, couch&rsquo;d amid the scaly fold;<br/>
+Instant he wears, elusive of the rape,<br/>
+The mimic force of every savage shape;<br/>
+Or glides with liquid lapse a murmuring stream,<br/>
+Or, wrapp&rsquo;d in flame, he glows at every limb.<br/>
+Yet, still retentive, with redoubled might,<br/>
+Through each vain passive form constrain his flight<br/>
+But when, his native shape renamed, he stands<br/>
+Patient of conquest, and your cause demands;<br/>
+The cause that urged the bold attempt declare,<br/>
+And soothe the vanquish&rsquo;d with a victor&rsquo;s prayer.<br/>
+The bands releas&rsquo;d, implore the seer to say<br/>
+What godhead interdicts the watery way.<br/>
+Who, straight propitious, in prophetic strain<br/>
+Will teach you to repass the unmeasured main.&rsquo;<br/>
+She ceased, and bounding from the shelfy shore,<br/>
+Round the descending nymph the waves resounding roar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;High wrapp&rsquo;d in wonder of the future deed,<br/>
+with joy impetuous to the port I speed:<br/>
+The wants of nature with repast suffice,<br/>
+Till night with grateful shade involved the skies,<br/>
+And shed ambrosial dews. Fast by the deep,<br/>
+Along the tented shore, in balmy sleep,<br/>
+Our cares were lost. When o&rsquo;er the eastern lawn,<br/>
+In saffron robes, the daughter of the dawn<br/>
+Advanced her rosy steps, before the bay<br/>
+Due ritual honours to the gods I pay;<br/>
+Then seek the place the sea-born nymph assign&rsquo;d,<br/>
+With three associates of undaunted mind.<br/>
+Arrived, to form along the appointed strand<br/>
+For each a bed, she scoops the hilly sand;<br/>
+Then, from her azure cave the finny spoils<br/>
+Of four vast Phocae takes, to veil her wiles;<br/>
+Beneath the finny spoils extended prone,<br/>
+Hard toil! the prophet&rsquo;s piercing eye to shun;<br/>
+New from the corse, the scaly frauds diffuse<br/>
+Unsavoury stench of oil, and brackish ooze;<br/>
+But the bright sea-maid&rsquo;s gentle power implored,<br/>
+With nectar&rsquo;d drops the sickening sense restored.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus till the sun had travell&rsquo;d half the skies,<br/>
+Ambush&rsquo;d we lie, and wait the bold emprise;<br/>
+When, thronging quick to bask in open air,<br/>
+The flocks of ocean to the strand repair;<br/>
+Couch&rsquo;d on the sunny sand, the monsters sleep;<br/>
+Then Proteus, mounting from the hoary deep,<br/>
+Surveys his charge, unknowing of deceit;<br/>
+(In order told, we make the sum complete.)<br/>
+Pleased with the false review, secure he lies,<br/>
+And leaden slumbers press his drooping eyes.<br/>
+Rushing impetuous forth, we straight prepare<br/>
+A furious onset with the sound of war,<br/>
+And shouting seize the god; our force to evade,<br/>
+His various arts he soon resumes in aid;<br/>
+A lion now, he curls a surgy mane;<br/>
+Sudden our hands a spotted pard restrain;<br/>
+Then, arm&rsquo;d with tusks, and lightning in his eyes,<br/>
+A boar&rsquo;s obscener shape the god belies;<br/>
+On spiry volumes, there a dragon rides;<br/>
+Here, from our strict embrace a stream he glides.<br/>
+At last, sublime, his stately growth he rears<br/>
+A tree, and well-dissembled foliage wears.<br/>
+Vain efforts with superior power compress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Me with reluctance thus the seer address&rsquo;d;<br/>
+&lsquo;Say, son of Atreus, say what god inspired<br/>
+This daring fraud, and what the boon desired?&rsquo;<br/>
+I thus: &lsquo;O thou, whose certain eye foresees<br/>
+The fix&rsquo;d event of fate&rsquo;s remote decrees;<br/>
+After long woes, and various toil endured,<br/>
+Still on this desert isle my fleet is moor&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Unfriended of the gales. All-knowing, say,<br/>
+What godhead interdicts the watery way?<br/>
+What vows repentant will the power appease,<br/>
+To speed a prosperous voyage o&rsquo;er the seas.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;To Jove (with stern regard the god replies)<br/>
+And all the offended synod of the skies,<br/>
+Just hecatombs with due devotion slain,<br/>
+Thy guilt absolved, a prosperous voyage gain.<br/>
+To the firm sanction of thy fate attend!<br/>
+An exile thou, nor cheering face of friend,<br/>
+Nor sight of natal shore, nor regal dome,<br/>
+Shalt yet enjoy, but still art doom&rsquo;d to roam.<br/>
+Once more the Nile, who from the secret source<br/>
+Of Jove&rsquo;s high seat descends with sweepy force,<br/>
+Must view his billows white beneath thy oar,<br/>
+And altars blaze along his sanguine shore.<br/>
+Then will the gods with holy pomp adored,<br/>
+To thy long vows a safe return accord.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He ceased: heart wounded with afflictive pain,<br/>
+(Doom&rsquo;d to repeat the perils of the main,<br/>
+A shelfy track and long!) &lsquo;O seer&rsquo; I cry,<br/>
+&lsquo;To the stern sanction of the offended sky<br/>
+My prompt obedience bows. But deign to say<br/>
+What fate propitious, or what dire dismay,<br/>
+Sustain those peers, the relics of our host,<br/>
+Whom I with Nestor on the Phrygian coast<br/>
+Embracing left? Must I the warriors weep,<br/>
+Whelm&rsquo;d in the bottom of the monstrous deep?<br/>
+Or did the kind domestic friend deplore<br/>
+The breathless heroes on their native shore?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Press not too far,&rsquo; replied the god: &lsquo;but cease<br/>
+To know what, known, will violate thy peace;<br/>
+Too curious of their doom! with friendly woe<br/>
+Thy breast will heave, and tears eternal flow.<br/>
+Part live! the rest, a lamentable train!<br/>
+Range the dark bounds of Pluto&rsquo;s dreary reign.<br/>
+Two, foremost in the roll of Mars renown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Whose arms with conquest in thy cause were crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Fell by disastrous fate: by tempests toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+A third lives wretched on a distant coast.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Neptune rescued from Minerva&rsquo;s hate,<br/>
+On Gyrae, safe Oilean Ajax sate,<br/>
+His ship o&rsquo;erwhelm&rsquo;d; but, frowning on the floods,<br/>
+Impious he roar&rsquo;d defiance to the gods;<br/>
+To his own prowess all the glory gave:<br/>
+The power defrauding who vouchsafed to save.<br/>
+This heard the raging ruler of the main;<br/>
+His spear, indignant for such high disdain,<br/>
+He launched; dividing with his forky mace<br/>
+The aërial summit from the marble base:<br/>
+The rock rush&rsquo;d seaward, with impetuous roar<br/>
+Ingulf&rsquo;d, and to the abyss the boaster bore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;By Juno&rsquo;s guardian aid, the watery vast,<br/>
+Secure of storms, your royal brother pass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Till, coasting nigh the cape where Malen shrouds<br/>
+Her spiry cliffs amid surrounding clouds,<br/>
+A whirling gust tumultuous from the shore<br/>
+Across the deep his labouring vessel bore.<br/>
+In an ill-fated hour the coast he gain&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Where late in regal pomp Thyestes reigned;<br/>
+But, when his hoary honours bow&rsquo;d to fate,<br/>
+Ægysthus govern&rsquo;d in paternal state,<br/>
+The surges now subside, the tempest ends;<br/>
+From his tall ship the king of men descends;<br/>
+There fondly thinks the gods conclude his toil:<br/>
+Far from his own domain salutes the soil;<br/>
+With rapture oft the verge of Greece reviews,<br/>
+And the dear turf with tears of joy bedews.<br/>
+Him, thus exulting on the distant stand,<br/>
+A spy distinguish&rsquo;d from his airy stand;<br/>
+To bribe whose vigilance, Ægysthus told<br/>
+A mighty sum of ill-persuading gold:<br/>
+There watch&rsquo;d this guardian of his guilty fear,<br/>
+Till the twelfth moon had wheel&rsquo;d her pale career;<br/>
+And now, admonish&rsquo;d by his eye, to court<br/>
+With terror wing&rsquo;d conveys the dread report.<br/>
+Of deathful arts expert, his lord employs<br/>
+The ministers of blood in dark surprise;<br/>
+And twenty youths, in radiant mail incased,<br/>
+Close ambush&rsquo;d nigh the spacious hall he placed.<br/>
+Then bids prepare the hospitable treat:<br/>
+Vain shows of love to veil his felon hate!<br/>
+To grace the victor&rsquo;s welcome from the wars,<br/>
+A train of coursers and triumphal cars<br/>
+Magnificent he leads: the royal guest,<br/>
+Thoughtless of ill, accepts the fraudful feast.<br/>
+The troop forth-issuing from the dark recess,<br/>
+With homicidal rage the king oppress!<br/>
+So, whilst he feeds luxurious in the stall,<br/>
+The sovereign of the herd is doomed to fall,<br/>
+The partners of his fame and toils at Troy,<br/>
+Around their lord, a mighty ruin, lie:<br/>
+Mix&rsquo;d with the brave, the base invaders bleed;<br/>
+Ægysthus sole survives to boast the deed.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said: chill horrors shook my shivering soul,<br/>
+Rack&rsquo;d with convulsive pangs in dust I roll;<br/>
+And hate, in madness of extreme despair,<br/>
+To view the sun, or breathe the vital air.<br/>
+But when, superior to the rage of woe,<br/>
+I stood restored and tears had ceased to flow,<br/>
+Lenient of grief the pitying god began:<br/>
+&lsquo;Forget the brother, and resume the man.<br/>
+To Fate&rsquo;s supreme dispose the dead resign,<br/>
+That care be Fate&rsquo;s, a speedy passage thine<br/>
+Still lives the wretch who wrought the death deplored,<br/>
+But lives a victim for thy vengeful sword;<br/>
+Unless with filial rage Orestes glow,<br/>
+And swift prevent the meditated blow:<br/>
+You timely will return a welcome guest,<br/>
+With him to share the sad funereal feast.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said: new thoughts my beating heart employ,<br/>
+My gloomy soul receives a gleam of joy.<br/>
+Fair hope revives; and eager I address&rsquo;d<br/>
+The prescient godhead to reveal the rest:<br/>
+&lsquo;The doom decreed of those disastrous two<br/>
+I&rsquo;ve heard with pain, but oh! the tale pursue;<br/>
+What third brave son of Mars the Fates constrain<br/>
+To roam the howling desert of the main;<br/>
+Or, in eternal shade of cold he lies,<br/>
+Provoke new sorrows from these grateful eyes.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;That chief (rejoin&rsquo;d the god) his race derives<br/>
+From Ithaca, and wondrous woes survives;<br/>
+Laertes&rsquo; son: girt with circumfluous tides,<br/>
+He still calamitous constraint abides.<br/>
+Him in Calypso&rsquo;s cave of late I view&rsquo;d,<br/>
+When streaming grief his faded cheek bedow&rsquo;d.<br/>
+But vain his prayer, his arts are vain, to move<br/>
+The enamour&rsquo;d goddess, or elude her love:<br/>
+His vessel sunk, and dear companions lost,<br/>
+He lives reluctant on a foreign coast.<br/>
+But oh, beloved by Heaven! reserved to thee<br/>
+A happier lot the smiling Fates decree:<br/>
+Free from that law, beneath whose mortal sway<br/>
+Matter is changed, and varying forms decay,<br/>
+Elysium shall be thine: the blissful plains<br/>
+Of utmost earth, where Rhadamanthus reigns.<br/>
+Joys ever young, unmix&rsquo;d with pain or fear,<br/>
+Fill the wide circle of the eternal year:<br/>
+Stern winter smiles on that auspicious clime:<br/>
+The fields are florid with unfading prime;<br/>
+From the bleak pole no winds inclement blow,<br/>
+Mould the round hail, or flake the fleecy snow;<br/>
+But from the breezy deep the blest inhale<br/>
+The fragrant murmurs of the western gale.<br/>
+This grace peculiar will the gods afford<br/>
+To thee, the son of Jove, and beauteous Helen&rsquo;s lord.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He ceased, and plunging in the vast profound,<br/>
+Beneath the god and whirling billows bound.<br/>
+Then speeding back, involved in various thought,<br/>
+My friends attending at the shore I sought,<br/>
+Arrived, the rage of hunger we control<br/>
+Till night with silent shade invests the pole;<br/>
+Then lose the cares of life in pleasing rest.<br/>
+Soon as the morn reveals the roseate east,<br/>
+With sails we wing the masts, our anchors weigh,<br/>
+Unmoor the fleet, and rush into the sea.<br/>
+Ranged on the banks, beneath our equal oars<br/>
+White curl the waves, and the vex&rsquo;d ocean roars<br/>
+Then, steering backward from the Pharian isle,<br/>
+We gain the stream of Jove-descended Nile;<br/>
+There quit the ships, and on the destined shore<br/>
+With ritual hecatombs the gods adore;<br/>
+Their wrath atoned, to Agamemnon&rsquo;s name<br/>
+A cenotaph I raise of deathless fame.<br/>
+These rites to piety and grief discharged,<br/>
+The friendly gods a springing gale enlarged;<br/>
+The fleet swift tilting o&rsquo;er the surges flew,<br/>
+Till Grecian cliffs appear&rsquo;d a blissful view!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thy patient ear hath heard me long relate<br/>
+A story, fruitful of disastrous fate.<br/>
+And now, young prince, indulge my fond request;<br/>
+Be Sparta honoured with his royal guest,<br/>
+Till, from his eastern goal, the joyous sun<br/>
+His twelfth diurnal race begins to run.<br/>
+Meantime my train the friendly gifts prepare,<br/>
+The sprightly coursers and a polish&rsquo;d car;<br/>
+With these a goblet of capacious mould,<br/>
+Figured with art to dignify the gold<br/>
+(Form&rsquo;d for libation to the gods), shall prove<br/>
+A pledge and monument of sacred love.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My quick return (young Ithacus rejoin&rsquo;d),<br/>
+Damps the warm wishes of my raptured mind;<br/>
+Did not my fate my needful haste constrain,<br/>
+Charm&rsquo;d by your speech so graceful and humane,<br/>
+Lost in delight the circling year would roll,<br/>
+While deep attention fix&rsquo;d my listening soul.<br/>
+But now to Pyle permit my destined way,<br/>
+My loved associates chide my long delay:<br/>
+In dear remembrance of your royal grace,<br/>
+I take the present of the promised vase;<br/>
+The coursers, for the champaign sports retain;<br/>
+That gift our barren rocks will render vain:<br/>
+Horrid with cliffs, our meagre land allows<br/>
+Thin herbage for the mountain goat to browse,<br/>
+But neither mead nor plain supplies, to feed<br/>
+The sprightly courser, or indulge his speed:<br/>
+To sea-surrounded realms the gods assign<br/>
+Small tract of fertile lawn, the least to mine.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His hand the king with tender passion press&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And, smiling, thus the royal youth address&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;O early worth! a soul so wise, and young,<br/>
+Proclaims you from the sage Ulysses sprung.<br/>
+Selected from my stores, of matchless price,<br/>
+An urn shall recompense your prudent choice;<br/>
+By Vulcan&rsquo;s art, the verge with gold enchased.<br/>
+A pledge the sceptred power of Sidon gave,<br/>
+When to his realm I plough&rsquo;d the orient wave.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus they alternate; while, with artful care,<br/>
+The menial train the regal feast prepare.<br/>
+The firstlings of the flock are doom&rsquo;d to die:<br/>
+Rich fragrant wines the cheering bowl supply;<br/>
+A female band the gift of Ceres bring;<br/>
+And the gilt roofs with genial triumph ring.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile, in Ithaca, the suitor powers<br/>
+In active games divide their jovial hours;<br/>
+In areas varied with mosaic art,<br/>
+Some whirl the disk, and some the javelin dart,<br/>
+Aside, sequester&rsquo;d from the vast resort,<br/>
+Antinous sole spectator of the sport;<br/>
+With great Eurymachus, of worth confess&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And high descent, superior to the rest;<br/>
+Whom young Noëmon lowly thus address&rsquo;d:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My ship, equipp&rsquo;d within the neighboring port,<br/>
+The prince, departing for the Pylian court,<br/>
+Requested for his speed; but, courteous, say<br/>
+When steers he home, or why this long delay?<br/>
+For Elis I should sail with utmost speed,<br/>
+To import twelve mares which there luxurious feed,<br/>
+And twelve young mules, a strong laborious race,<br/>
+New to the plow, unpractised in the trace.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Unknowing of the course to Pyle design&rsquo;d,<br/>
+A sudden horror seized on either mind;<br/>
+The prince in rural bower they fondly thought,<br/>
+Numbering his flocks and herds, not far remote.<br/>
+&ldquo;Relate (Antinous cries), devoid of guile,<br/>
+When spread the prince his sale for distant Pyle?<br/>
+Did chosen chiefs across the gulfy main<br/>
+Attend his voyage, or domestic train?<br/>
+Spontaneous did you speed his secret course,<br/>
+Or was the vessel seized by fraud or force?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;With willing duty, not reluctant mind<br/>
+(Noëmon cried), the vessel was resign&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Who, in the balance, with the great affairs<br/>
+Of courts presume to weigh their private cares?<br/>
+With him, the peerage next in power to you;<br/>
+And Mentor, captain of the lordly crew,<br/>
+Or some celestial in his reverend form,<br/>
+Safe from the secret rock and adverse storm,<br/>
+Pilots the course; for when the glimmering ray<br/>
+Of yester dawn disclosed the tender day,<br/>
+Mentor himself I saw, and much admired,&rdquo;<br/>
+Then ceased the youth, and from the court retired.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Confounded and appall&rsquo;d, the unfinish&rsquo;d game<br/>
+The suitors quit, and all to council came.<br/>
+Antinous first the assembled peers address&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Rage sparkling in his eyes, and burning in his breast
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O shame to manhood! shall one daring boy<br/>
+The scheme of all our happiness destroy?<br/>
+Fly unperceived, seducing half the flower<br/>
+Of nobles, and invite a foreign power?<br/>
+The ponderous engine raised to crush us all,<br/>
+Recoiling, on his head is sure to fall.<br/>
+Instant prepare me, on the neighbouring strand,<br/>
+With twenty chosen mates a vessel mann&rsquo;d;<br/>
+For ambush&rsquo;d close beneath the Samian shore<br/>
+His ship returning shall my spies explore;<br/>
+He soon his rashness shall with life atone,<br/>
+Seek for his father&rsquo;s fate, but find his own.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With vast applause the sentence all approve;<br/>
+Then rise, and to the feastful hall remove;<br/>
+Swift to the queen the herald Medon ran,<br/>
+Who heard the consult of the dire divan:<br/>
+Before her dome the royal matron stands,<br/>
+And thus the message of his haste demands;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What will the suitors? must my servant-train<br/>
+The allotted labours of the day refrain,<br/>
+For them to form some exquisite repast?<br/>
+Heaven grant this festival may prove their last!<br/>
+Or, if they still must live, from me remove<br/>
+The double plague of luxury and love!<br/>
+Forbear, ye sons of insolence! forbear,<br/>
+In riot to consume a wretched heir.<br/>
+In the young soul illustrious thought to raise,<br/>
+Were ye not tutor&rsquo;d with Ulysses&rsquo; praise?<br/>
+Have not your fathers oft my lord defined,<br/>
+Gentle of speech, beneficent of mind?<br/>
+Some kings with arbitrary rage devour,<br/>
+Or in their tyrant-minions vest the power;<br/>
+Ulysses let no partial favours fall,<br/>
+The people&rsquo;s parent, he protected all;<br/>
+But absent now, perfidious and ingrate!<br/>
+His stores ye ravage, and usurp his state.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He thus: &ldquo;O were the woes you speak the worst!<br/>
+They form a deed more odious and accursed;<br/>
+More dreadful than your boding soul divines;<br/>
+But pitying Jove avert the dire designs!<br/>
+The darling object of your royal care<br/>
+Is marked to perish in a deathful snare;<br/>
+Before he anchors in his native port,<br/>
+From Pyle re-sailing and the Spartan court;<br/>
+Horrid to speak! in ambush is decreed<br/>
+The hope and heir of Ithaca to bleed!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sudden she sunk beneath the weighty woes,<br/>
+The vital streams a chilling horror froze;<br/>
+The big round tear stands trembling in her eye,<br/>
+And on her tongue imperfect accents die.<br/>
+At length in tender language interwove<br/>
+With sighs, she thus expressed her anxious love;<br/>
+&ldquo;Why rarely would my son his fate explore,<br/>
+Ride the wild waves, and quit the safer shore?<br/>
+Did he with all the greatly wretched, crave<br/>
+A blank oblivion, and untimely grave?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tis not (replied the sage) to Medon given<br/>
+To know, if some inhabitant of heaven<br/>
+In his young breast the daring thought inspired<br/>
+Or if, alone with filial duty fired,<br/>
+The winds and waves he tempts in early bloom,<br/>
+Studious to learn his absent father&rsquo;s doom.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sage retired: unable to control<br/>
+The mighty griefs that swell her labouring soul<br/>
+Rolling convulsive on the floor is seen<br/>
+The piteous object of a prostrate queen.<br/>
+Words to her dumb complaint a pause supplies,<br/>
+And breath, to waste in unavailing cries.<br/>
+Around their sovereign wept the menial fair,<br/>
+To whom she thus address&rsquo;d her deep despair:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Behold a wretch whom all the gods consign<br/>
+To woe! Did ever sorrows equal mine?<br/>
+Long to my joys my dearest lord is lost,<br/>
+His country&rsquo;s buckler, and the Grecian boast;<br/>
+Now from my fond embrace, by tempests torn,<br/>
+Our other column of the state is borne;<br/>
+Nor took a kind adieu, nor sought consent!&mdash;<br/>
+Unkind confederates in his dire intent!<br/>
+Ill suits it with your shows of duteous zeal,<br/>
+From me the purposed voyage to conceal;<br/>
+Though at the solemn midnight hour he rose,<br/>
+Why did you fear to trouble my repose?<br/>
+He either had obey&rsquo;d my fond desire,<br/>
+Or seen his mother pierced with grief expire.<br/>
+Bid Dolius quick attend, the faithful slave<br/>
+Whom to my nuptial train Icarius gave<br/>
+To tend the fruit groves: with incessant speed<br/>
+He shall this violence of death decreed<br/>
+To good Laertes tell. Experienced age<br/>
+May timely intercept the ruffian rage.<br/>
+Convene the tribes the murderous plot reveal,<br/>
+And to their power to save his race appeal.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Euryclea thus: &ldquo;My dearest dread;<br/>
+Though to the sword I bow this hoary head,<br/>
+Or if a dungeon be the pain decreed,<br/>
+I own me conscious of the unpleasing deed;<br/>
+Auxiliar to his flight, my aid implored,<br/>
+With wine and viands I the vessel stored;<br/>
+A solemn oath, imposed, the secret seal&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Till the twelfth dawn the light of day reveal&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Dreading the effect of a fond mother&rsquo;s fear,<br/>
+He dared not violate your royal ear.<br/>
+But bathe, and, in imperial robes array&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Pay due devotions to the martial maid,<br/>
+And rest affianced in her guardian aid.<br/>
+Send not to good Laertes, nor engage<br/>
+In toils of state the miseries of age:<br/>
+Tis impious to surmise the powers divine<br/>
+To ruin doom the Jove-descended line;<br/>
+Long shall the race of just Arcesius reign,<br/>
+And isles remote enlarge his old domain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The queen her speech with calm attention hears,<br/>
+Her eyes restrain the silver-streaming tears:<br/>
+She bathes, and robed, the sacred dome ascends;<br/>
+Her pious speed a female train attends:<br/>
+The salted cakes in canisters are laid,<br/>
+And thus the queen invokes Minerva&rsquo;s aid;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Daughter divine of Jove, whose arm can wield<br/>
+The avenging bolt, and shake the dreadful shield<br/>
+If e&rsquo;er Ulysses to thy fane preferr&rsquo;d<br/>
+The best and choicest of his flock and herd;<br/>
+Hear, goddess, hear, by those oblations won;<br/>
+And for the pious sire preserve the son;<br/>
+His wish&rsquo;d return with happy power befriend,<br/>
+And on the suitors let thy wrath descend.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She ceased; shrill ecstasies of joy declare<br/>
+The favouring goddess present to the prayer;<br/>
+The suitors heard, and deem&rsquo;d the mirthful voice<br/>
+A signal of her hymeneal choice;<br/>
+Whilst one most jovial thus accosts the board:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Too late the queen selects a second lord;<br/>
+In evil hour the nuptial rite intends,<br/>
+When o&rsquo;er her son disastrous death impends.&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus he, unskill&rsquo;d of what the fates provide!<br/>
+But with severe rebuke Antinous cried:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;These empty vaunts will make the voyage vain:<br/>
+Alarm not with discourse the menial train:<br/>
+The great event with silent hope attend,<br/>
+Our deeds alone our counsel must commend.&rdquo;<br/>
+His speech thus ended short, he frowning rose,<br/>
+And twenty chiefs renowned for valour chose;<br/>
+Down to the strand he speeds with haughty strides,<br/>
+Where anchor&rsquo;d in the bay the vessel rides,<br/>
+Replete with mail and military store,<br/>
+In all her tackle trim to quit the shore.<br/>
+The desperate crew ascend, unfurl the sails<br/>
+(The seaward prow invites the tardy gales);<br/>
+Then take repast till Hesperus display&rsquo;d<br/>
+His golden circlet, in the western shade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meantime the queen, without reflection due,<br/>
+Heart-wounded, to the bed of state withdrew:<br/>
+In her sad breast the prince&rsquo;s fortunes roll,<br/>
+And hope and doubt alternate seize her soul.<br/>
+So when the woodman&rsquo;s toil her cave surrounds,<br/>
+And with the hunter&rsquo;s cry the grove resounds,<br/>
+With grief and rage the mother-lion stung,<br/>
+Fearless herself, yet trembles for her young,<br/>
+While pensive in the silent slumberous shade,<br/>
+Sleep&rsquo;s gentle powers her drooping eyes invade;<br/>
+Minerva, life-like, on embodied air<br/>
+Impress&rsquo;d the form of Iphthima the fair;<br/>
+(Icarius&rsquo; daughter she, whose blooming charms<br/>
+Allured Eumelus to her virgin arms;<br/>
+A sceptred lord, who o&rsquo;er the fruitful plain<br/>
+Of Thessaly wide stretched his ample reign:)<br/>
+As Pallas will&rsquo;d, along the sable skies,<br/>
+To calm the queen, the phantom sister flies.<br/>
+Swift on the regal dome, descending right,<br/>
+The bolted valves are pervious to her flight.<br/>
+Close to her head the pleasing vision stands,<br/>
+And thus performs Minerva&rsquo;s high commands
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O why, Penelope, this causeless fear,<br/>
+To render sleep&rsquo;s soft blessing unsincere?<br/>
+Alike devote to sorrow&rsquo;s dire extreme<br/>
+The day-reflection, and the midnight-dream!<br/>
+Thy son the gods propitious will restore,<br/>
+And bid thee cease his absence to deplore.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the queen (whilst yet in pensive mind<br/>
+Was in the silent gates of sleep confined):<br/>
+&ldquo;O sister to my soul forever dear,<br/>
+Why this first visit to reprove my fear?<br/>
+How in a realm so distant should you know<br/>
+From what deep source my ceaseless sorrows flow?<br/>
+To all my hope my royal lord is lost,<br/>
+His country&rsquo;s buckler, and the Grecian boast;<br/>
+And with consummate woe to weigh me down,<br/>
+The heir of all his honours and his crown,<br/>
+My darling son is fled! an easy prey<br/>
+To the fierce storms, or men more fierce than they;<br/>
+Who, in a league of blood associates sworn,<br/>
+Will intercept the unwary youth&rsquo;s return.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Courage resume (the shadowy form replied);<br/>
+In the protecting care of Heaven confide;<br/>
+On him attends the blue eyed martial maid:<br/>
+What earthly can implore a surer aid?<br/>
+Me now the guardian goddess deigns to send,<br/>
+To bid thee patient his return attend.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The queen replies: &ldquo;If in the blest abodes,<br/>
+A goddess, thou hast commerce with the gods;<br/>
+Say, breathes my lord the blissful realm of light,<br/>
+Or lies he wrapp&rsquo;d in ever-during night?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Inquire not of his doom, (the phantom cries,)<br/>
+I speak not all the counsel of the skies;<br/>
+Nor must indulge with vain discourse, or long,<br/>
+The windy satisfaction of the tongue.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Swift through the valves the visionary fair<br/>
+Repass&rsquo;d, and viewless mix&rsquo;d with common air.<br/>
+The queen awakes, deliver&rsquo;d of her woes;<br/>
+With florid joy her heart dilating glows:<br/>
+The vision, manifest of future fate,<br/>
+Makes her with hope her son&rsquo;s arrival wait.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meantime the suitors plough the watery plain,<br/>
+Telemachus in thought already slain!<br/>
+When sight of lessening Ithaca was lost<br/>
+Their sail directed for the Samian coast<br/>
+A small but verdant isle appear&rsquo;d in view,<br/>
+And Asteris the advancing pilot knew;<br/>
+An ample port the rocks projected form,<br/>
+To break the rolling waves and ruffling storm:<br/>
+That safe recess they gain with happy speed,<br/>
+And in close ambush wait the murderous deed.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap05"></a>BOOK V.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE DEPARTURE OF ULYSSES FROM CALYPSO
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Pallas in a council of the gods complains of the detention of Ulysses in the
+Island of Calypso: whereupon Mercury is sent to command his removal. The seat
+of Calypso described. She consents with much difficulty; and Ulysses builds a
+vessel with his own hands, in which he embarks. Neptune overtakes him with a
+terrible tempest, in which he is shipwrecked, and in the last danger of death;
+till Lencothea, a sea-goddess, assists him, and, after innumerable perils, he
+gets ashore on Phæacia.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+The saffron morn, with early blushes spread,<br/>
+Now rose refulgent from Tithonus&rsquo; bed;<br/>
+With new-born day to gladden mortal sight,<br/>
+And gild the courts of heaven with sacred light.<br/>
+Then met the eternal synod of the sky,<br/>
+Before the god, who thunders from on high,<br/>
+Supreme in might, sublime in majesty.<br/>
+Pallas, to these, deplores the unequal fates<br/>
+Of wise Ulysses and his toils relates:<br/>
+Her hero&rsquo;s danger touch&rsquo;d the pitying power,<br/>
+The nymph&rsquo;s seducements, and the magic bower.<br/>
+Thus she began her plaint: &ldquo;Immortal Jove!<br/>
+And you who fill the blissful seats above!<br/>
+Let kings no more with gentle mercy sway,<br/>
+Or bless a people willing to obey,<br/>
+But crush the nations with an iron rod,<br/>
+And every monarch be the scourge of God.<br/>
+If from your thoughts Ulysses you remove,<br/>
+Who ruled his subjects with a father&rsquo;s love,<br/>
+Sole in an isle, encircled by the main,<br/>
+Abandon&rsquo;d, banish&rsquo;d from his native reign,<br/>
+Unbless&rsquo;d he sighs, detained by lawless charms,<br/>
+And press&rsquo;d unwilling in Calypso&rsquo;s arms.<br/>
+Nor friends are there, nor vessels to convey,<br/>
+Nor oars to cut the immeasurable way.<br/>
+And now fierce traitors, studious to destroy<br/>
+His only son, their ambush&rsquo;d fraud employ;<br/>
+Who, pious, following his great father&rsquo;s fame,<br/>
+To sacred Pylos and to Sparta came.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What words are these? (replied the power who forms<br/>
+The clouds of night, and darkens heaven with storms;)<br/>
+Is not already in thy soul decreed,<br/>
+The chief&rsquo;s return shall make the guilty bleed?<br/>
+What cannot Wisdom do? Thou may&rsquo;st restore<br/>
+The son in safety to his native shore;<br/>
+While the fell foes, who late in ambush lay,<br/>
+With fraud defeated measure back their way.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then thus to Hermes the command was given:<br/>
+&ldquo;Hermes, thou chosen messenger of heaven!<br/>
+Go, to the nymph be these our orders borne<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis Jove&rsquo;s decree, Ulysses shall return:<br/>
+The patient man shall view his old abodes,<br/>
+Nor helped by mortal hand, nor guiding gods<br/>
+In twice ten days shall fertile Scheria find,<br/>
+Alone, and floating to the wave and wind.<br/>
+The bold Phæacians there, whose haughty line<br/>
+Is mixed with gods, half human, half divine,<br/>
+The chief shall honour as some heavenly guest,<br/>
+And swift transport him to his place of rest,<br/>
+His vessels loaded with a plenteous store<br/>
+Of brass, of vestures, and resplendent ore<br/>
+(A richer prize than if his joyful isle<br/>
+Received him charged with Ilion&rsquo;s noble spoil),<br/>
+His friends, his country, he shall see, though late:<br/>
+Such is our sovereign will, and such is fate.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke. The god who mounts the winged winds<br/>
+Fast to his feet the golden pinions binds,<br/>
+That high through fields of air his flight sustain<br/>
+O&rsquo;er the wide earth, and o&rsquo;er the boundless main:<br/>
+He grasps the wand that causes sleep to fly,<br/>
+Or in soft slumber seals the wakeful eye;<br/>
+Then shoots from heaven to high Pieria&rsquo;s steep,<br/>
+And stoops incumbent on the rolling deep.<br/>
+So watery fowl, that seek their fishy food,<br/>
+With wings expanded o&rsquo;er the foaming flood,<br/>
+Now sailing smooth the level surface sweep,<br/>
+Now dip their pinions in the briny deep;<br/>
+Thus o&rsquo;er the world of waters Hermes flew,<br/>
+Till now the distant island rose in view:<br/>
+Then, swift ascending from the azure wave,<br/>
+He took the path that winded to the cave.<br/>
+Large was the grot, in which the nymph he found<br/>
+(The fair-hair&rsquo;d nymph with every beauty crown&rsquo;d).<br/>
+The cave was brighten&rsquo;d with a rising blaze;<br/>
+Cedar and frankincense, an odorous pile,<br/>
+Flamed on the hearth, and wide perfumed the isle;<br/>
+While she with work and song the time divides,<br/>
+And through the loom the golden shuttle guides.<br/>
+Without the grot a various sylvan scene<br/>
+Appear&rsquo;d around, and groves of living green;<br/>
+Poplars and alders ever quivering play&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And nodding cypress form&rsquo;d a fragrant shade:<br/>
+On whose high branches, waving with the storm,<br/>
+The birds of broadest wing their mansions form,&mdash;<br/>
+The chough, the sea-mew, the loquacious crow,&mdash;<br/>
+and scream aloft, and skim the deeps below.<br/>
+Depending vines the shelving cavern screen.<br/>
+With purple clusters blushing through the green.<br/>
+Four limpid fountains from the clefts distil:<br/>
+And every fountain pours a several rill,<br/>
+In mazy windings wandering down the hill:<br/>
+Where bloomy meads with vivid greens were crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And glowing violets threw odours round.<br/>
+A scene, where, if a god should cast his sight,<br/>
+A god might gaze, and wander with delight!<br/>
+Joy touch&rsquo;d the messenger of heaven: he stay&rsquo;d<br/>
+Entranced, and all the blissful haunts surveyed.<br/>
+Him, entering in the cave, Calypso knew;<br/>
+For powers celestial to each other&rsquo;s view<br/>
+Stand still confess&rsquo;d, though distant far they lie<br/>
+To habitants of earth, or sea, or sky.<br/>
+But sad Ulysses, by himself apart,<br/>
+Pour&rsquo;d the big sorrows of his swelling heart;<br/>
+All on the lonely shore he sate to weep,<br/>
+And roll&rsquo;d his eyes around the restless deep:<br/>
+Toward his loved coast he roll&rsquo;d his eyes in vain,<br/>
+Till, dimm&rsquo;d with rising grief, they stream&rsquo;d again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now graceful seated on her shining throne,<br/>
+To Hermes thus the nymph divine begun:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;God of the golden wand! on what behest<br/>
+Arrivest thou here, an unexpected guest?<br/>
+Loved as thou art, thy free injunctions lay;<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis mine with joy and duty to obey.<br/>
+Till now a stranger, in a happy hour<br/>
+Approach, and taste the dainties of my bower.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus having spoke, the nymph the table spread<br/>
+(Ambrosial cates, with nectar rosy-red);<br/>
+Hermes the hospitable rite partook,<br/>
+Divine refection! then, recruited, spoke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What moves this journey from my native sky,<br/>
+A goddess asks, nor can a god deny.<br/>
+Hear then the truth. By mighty Jove&rsquo;s command<br/>
+Unwilling have I trod this pleasing land:<br/>
+For who, self-moved, with weary wing would sweep<br/>
+Such length of ocean and unmeasured deep;<br/>
+A world of waters! far from all the ways<br/>
+Where men frequent, or sacred altars blaze!<br/>
+But to Jove&rsquo;s will submission we must pay;<br/>
+What power so great to dare to disobey?<br/>
+A man, he says, a man resides with thee,<br/>
+Of all his kind most worn with misery.<br/>
+The Greeks, (whose arms for nine long year employ&rsquo;d<br/>
+Their force on Ilion, in the tenth destroy&rsquo;d,)<br/>
+At length, embarking in a luckless hour,<br/>
+With conquest proud, incensed Minerva&rsquo;s power:<br/>
+Hence on the guilty race her vengeance hurl&rsquo;d,<br/>
+With storms pursued them through the liquid world.<br/>
+There all his vessels sunk beneath the wave!<br/>
+There all his dear companions found their grave!<br/>
+Saved from the jaws of death by Heaven&rsquo;s decree,<br/>
+The tempest drove him to these shores and thee.<br/>
+Him, Jove now orders to his native lands<br/>
+Straight to dismiss: so destiny commands:<br/>
+Impatient Fate his near return attends,<br/>
+And calls him to his country, and his friends.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+E&rsquo;en to her inmost soul the goddess shook;<br/>
+Then thus her anguish, and her passion broke:<br/>
+&ldquo;Ungracious gods! with spite and envy cursed!<br/>
+Still to your own ethereal race the worst!<br/>
+Ye envy mortal and immortal joy,<br/>
+And love, the only sweet of life destroy,<br/>
+Did ever goddess by her charms engage<br/>
+A favour&rsquo;d mortal, and not feel your rage?<br/>
+So when Aurora sought Orion&rsquo;s love,<br/>
+Her joys disturbed your blissful hours above,<br/>
+Till, in Ortygia Dian&rsquo;s winged dart<br/>
+Had pierced the hapless hunter to the heart,<br/>
+So when the covert of the thrice-eared field<br/>
+Saw stately Ceres to her passion yield,<br/>
+Scarce could Iasion taste her heavenly charms,<br/>
+But Jove&rsquo;s swift lightning scorched him in her arms.<br/>
+And is it now my turn, ye mighty powers!<br/>
+Am I the envy of your blissful bowers?<br/>
+A man, an outcast to the storm and wave,<br/>
+It was my crime to pity, and to save;<br/>
+When he who thunders rent his bark in twain,<br/>
+And sunk his brave companions in the main,<br/>
+Alone, abandon&rsquo;d, in mid-ocean tossed,<br/>
+The sport of winds, and driven from every coast,<br/>
+Hither this man of miseries I led,<br/>
+Received the friendless, and the hungry fed;<br/>
+Nay promised (vainly promised) to bestow<br/>
+Immortal life, exempt from age and woe.<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis past-and Jove decrees he shall remove;<br/>
+Gods as we are, we are but slaves to Jove.<br/>
+Go then he must (he must, if he ordain,<br/>
+Try all those dangers, all those deeps, again);<br/>
+But never, never shall Calypso send<br/>
+To toils like these her husband and her friend.<br/>
+What ships have I, what sailors to convey,<br/>
+What oars to cut the long laborious way?<br/>
+Yet I&rsquo;ll direct the safest means to go;<br/>
+That last advice is all I can bestow.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To her the power who hears the charming rod;<br/>
+&ldquo;Dismiss the man, nor irritate the god;<br/>
+Prevent the rage of him who reigns above,<br/>
+For what so dreadful as the wrath of Jove?&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus having said, he cut the cleaving sky,<br/>
+And in a moment vanished from her eye,<br/>
+The nymph, obedient to divine command,<br/>
+To seek Ulysses, paced along the sand,<br/>
+Him pensive on the lonely beach she found,<br/>
+With streaming eyes in briny torrents drown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And inly pining for his native shore;<br/>
+For now the soft enchantress pleased no more;<br/>
+For now, reluctant, and constrained by charms,<br/>
+Absent he lay in her desiring arms,<br/>
+In slumber wore the heavy night away,<br/>
+On rocks and shores consumed the tedious day;<br/>
+There sate all desolate, and sighed alone,<br/>
+With echoing sorrows made the mountains groan.<br/>
+And roll&rsquo;d his eyes o&rsquo;er all the restless main,<br/>
+Till, dimmed with rising grief, they streamed again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here, on his musing mood the goddess press&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Approaching soft, and thus the chief address&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;Unhappy man! to wasting woes a prey,<br/>
+No more in sorrows languish life away:<br/>
+Free as the winds I give thee now to rove:<br/>
+Go, fell the timber of yon lofty grove,<br/>
+And form a raft, and build the rising ship,<br/>
+Sublime to bear thee o&rsquo;er the gloomy deep.<br/>
+To store the vessel let the care be mine,<br/>
+With water from the rock and rosy wine,<br/>
+And life-sustaining bread, and fair array,<br/>
+And prosperous gales to waft thee on the way.<br/>
+These, if the gods with my desire comply<br/>
+(The gods, alas, more mighty far than I,<br/>
+And better skill&rsquo;d in dark events to come),<br/>
+In peace shall land thee at thy native home.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With sighs Ulysses heard the words she spoke,<br/>
+Then thus his melancholy silence broke:<br/>
+&ldquo;Some other motive, goddess! sways thy mind<br/>
+(Some close design, or turn of womankind),<br/>
+Nor my return the end, nor this the way,<br/>
+On a slight raft to pass the swelling sea,<br/>
+Huge, horrid, vast! where scarce in safety sails<br/>
+The best-built ship, though Jove inspires the gales.<br/>
+The bold proposal how shall I fulfil,<br/>
+Dark as I am, unconscious of thy will?<br/>
+Swear, then, thou mean&rsquo;st not what my soul forebodes;<br/>
+Swear by the solemn oath that binds the gods.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Him, while he spoke, with smiles Calypso eyed,<br/>
+And gently grasp&rsquo;d his hand, and thus replied:<br/>
+&ldquo;This shows thee, friend, by old experience taught,<br/>
+And learn&rsquo;d in all the wiles of human thought,<br/>
+How prone to doubt, how cautious, are the wise!<br/>
+But hear, O earth, and hear, ye sacred skies!<br/>
+And thou, O Styx! whose formidable floods<br/>
+Glide through the shades, and bind the attesting gods!<br/>
+No form&rsquo;d design, no meditated end,<br/>
+Lurks in the counsel of thy faithful friend;<br/>
+Kind the persuasion, and sincere my aim;<br/>
+The same my practice, were my fate the same.<br/>
+Heaven has not cursed me with a heart of steel,<br/>
+But given the sense to pity, and to feel.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus having said, the goddess marched before:<br/>
+He trod her footsteps in the sandy shore.<br/>
+At the cool cave arrived, they took their state;<br/>
+He filled the throne where Mercury had sate.<br/>
+For him the nymph a rich repast ordains,<br/>
+Such as the mortal life of man sustains;<br/>
+Before herself were placed the the cates divine,<br/>
+Ambrosial banquet and celestial wine.<br/>
+Their hunger satiate, and their thirst repress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Thus spoke Calypso to her godlike guest:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ulysses! (with a sigh she thus began;)<br/>
+O sprung from gods! in wisdom more than man!<br/>
+Is then thy home the passion of thy heart?<br/>
+Thus wilt thou leave me, are we thus to part?<br/>
+Farewell! and ever joyful mayst thou be,<br/>
+Nor break the transport with one thought of me.<br/>
+But ah, Ulysses! wert thou given to know<br/>
+What Fate yet dooms these still to undergo,<br/>
+Thy heart might settle in this scene of ease.<br/>
+And e&rsquo;en these slighted charms might learn to please.<br/>
+A willing goddess, and immortal life,<br/>
+Might banish from thy mind an absent wife.<br/>
+Am I inferior to a mortal dame?<br/>
+Less soft my feature less august my frame?<br/>
+Or shall the daughters of mankind compare<br/>
+Their earth born beauties with the heavenly fair?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Alas! for this (the prudent man replies)<br/>
+Against Ulysses shall thy anger rise?<br/>
+Loved and adored, O goddess as thou art,<br/>
+Forgive the weakness of a human heart.<br/>
+Though well I see thy graces far above<br/>
+The dear, though mortal, object of my love,<br/>
+Of youth eternal well the difference know,<br/>
+And the short date of fading charms below;<br/>
+Yet every day, while absent thus I roam,<br/>
+I languish to return and die at home.<br/>
+Whate&rsquo;er the gods shall destine me to bear;<br/>
+In the black ocean or the watery war,<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis mine to master with a constant mind;<br/>
+Inured to perils, to the worst resign&rsquo;d,<br/>
+By seas, by wars, so many dangers run;<br/>
+Still I can suffer; their high will he done!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus while he spoke, the beamy sun descends,<br/>
+And rising night her friendly shade extends,<br/>
+To the close grot the lonely pair remove,<br/>
+And slept delighted with the gifts of love.<br/>
+When rosy morning call&rsquo;d them from their rest,<br/>
+Ulysses robed him in the cloak and vest.<br/>
+The nymph&rsquo;s fair head a veil transparent graced,<br/>
+Her swelling loins a radiant zone embraced<br/>
+With flowers of gold; an under robe, unbound,<br/>
+In snowy waves flow&rsquo;d glittering on the ground.<br/>
+Forth issuing thus, she gave him first to wield<br/>
+A weighty axe with truest temper steeled,<br/>
+And double-edged; the handle smooth and plain,<br/>
+Wrought of the clouded olive&rsquo;s easy grain;<br/>
+And next, a wedge to drive with sweepy sway<br/>
+Then to the neighboring forest led the way.<br/>
+On the lone island&rsquo;s utmost verge there stood<br/>
+Of poplars, pine, and firs, a lofty wood,<br/>
+Whose leafless summits to the skies aspire,<br/>
+Scorch&rsquo;d by the sun, or seared by heavenly fire<br/>
+(Already dried). These pointing out to view,<br/>
+The nymph just show&rsquo;d him, and with tears withdrew.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now toils the hero: trees on trees o&rsquo;erthrown<br/>
+Fall crackling round him, and the forests groan:<br/>
+Sudden, full twenty on the plain are strow&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And lopp&rsquo;d and lighten&rsquo;d of their branchy load.<br/>
+At equal angles these disposed to join,<br/>
+He smooth&rsquo;d and squared them by the rule and line,<br/>
+(The wimbles for the work Calypso found)<br/>
+With those he pierced them and with clinchers bound.<br/>
+Long and capacious as a shipwright forms<br/>
+Some bark&rsquo;s broad bottom to out-ride the storms,<br/>
+So large he built the raft; then ribb&rsquo;d it strong<br/>
+From space to space, and nail&rsquo;d the planks along;<br/>
+These form&rsquo;d the sides: the deck he fashion&rsquo;d last;<br/>
+Then o&rsquo;er the vessel raised the taper mast,<br/>
+With crossing sail-yards dancing in the wind;<br/>
+And to the helm the guiding rudder join&rsquo;d<br/>
+(With yielding osiers fenced, to break the force<br/>
+Of surging waves, and steer the steady course).<br/>
+Thy loom, Calypso, for the future sails<br/>
+Supplied the cloth, capacious of the gales.<br/>
+With stays and cordage last he rigged the ship,<br/>
+And, roll&rsquo;d on levers, launch&rsquo;d her in the deep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Four days were pass&rsquo;d, and now the work complete,<br/>
+Shone the fifth morn, when from her sacred seat<br/>
+The nymph dismiss&rsquo;d him (odorous garments given),<br/>
+And bathed in fragrant oils that breathed of heaven:<br/>
+Then fill&rsquo;d two goatskins with her hands divine,<br/>
+With water one, and one with sable wine:<br/>
+Of every kind, provisions heaved aboard;<br/>
+And the full decks with copious viands stored.<br/>
+The goddess, last, a gentle breeze supplies,<br/>
+To curl old Ocean, and to warm the skies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now, rejoicing in the prosperous gales,<br/>
+With beating heart Ulysses spreads his sails;<br/>
+Placed at the helm he sate, and mark&rsquo;d the skies,<br/>
+Nor closed in sleep his ever-watchful eyes.<br/>
+There view&rsquo;d the Pleiads, and the Northern Team,<br/>
+And great Orion&rsquo;s more refulgent beam.<br/>
+To which, around the axle of the sky,<br/>
+The Bear, revolving, points his golden eye:<br/>
+Who shines exalted on the ethereal plain,<br/>
+Nor bathes his blazing forehead in the main.<br/>
+Far on the left those radiant fires to keep<br/>
+The nymph directed, as he sail&rsquo;d the deep.<br/>
+Full seventeen nights he cut the foaming way:<br/>
+The distant land appear&rsquo;d the following day:<br/>
+Then swell&rsquo;d to sight Phæacia&rsquo;s dusky coast,<br/>
+And woody mountains, half in vapours lost;<br/>
+That lay before him indistinct and vast,<br/>
+Like a broad shield amid the watery waste.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But him, thus voyaging the deeps below,<br/>
+From far, on Solyme&rsquo;s aërial brow,<br/>
+The king of ocean saw, and seeing burn&rsquo;d<br/>
+(From Æthiopia&rsquo;s happy climes return&rsquo;d);<br/>
+The raging monarch shook his azure head,<br/>
+And thus in secret to his soul he said:<br/>
+&ldquo;Heavens! how uncertain are the powers on high!<br/>
+Is then reversed the sentence of the sky,<br/>
+In one man&rsquo;s favour; while a distant guest<br/>
+I shared secure the Æthiopian feast?<br/>
+Behold how near Phæacia&rsquo;s land he draws;<br/>
+The land affix&rsquo;d by Fate&rsquo;s eternal laws<br/>
+To end his toils. Is then our anger vain?<br/>
+No; if this sceptre yet commands the main.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke, and high the forky trident hurl&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Rolls clouds on clouds, and stirs the watery world,<br/>
+At once the face of earth and sea deforms,<br/>
+Swells all the winds, and rouses all the storms.<br/>
+Down rushed the night: east, west, together roar;<br/>
+And south and north roll mountains to the shore.<br/>
+Then shook the hero, to despair resign&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And question&rsquo;d thus his yet unconquer&rsquo;d mind;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wretch that I am! what farther fates attend<br/>
+This life of toils, and what my destined end?<br/>
+Too well, alas! the island goddess knew<br/>
+On the black sea what perils should ensue.<br/>
+New horrors now this destined head inclose;<br/>
+Untill&rsquo;d is yet the measure of my woes;<br/>
+With what a cloud the brows of heaven are crown&rsquo;d;<br/>
+What raging winds! what roaring waters round!<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis Jove himself the swelling tempest rears;<br/>
+Death, present death, on every side appears.<br/>
+Happy! thrice happy! who, in battle slain,<br/>
+Press&rsquo;d in Atrides&rsquo; cause the Trojan plain!<br/>
+Oh! had I died before that well-fought wall!<br/>
+Had some distinguish&rsquo;d day renown&rsquo;d my fall<br/>
+(Such as was that when showers of javelins fled<br/>
+From conquering Troy around Achilles dead),<br/>
+All Greece had paid me solemn funerals then,<br/>
+And spread my glory with the sons of men.<br/>
+A shameful fate now hides my hapless head,<br/>
+Unwept, unnoted, and for ever dead!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A mighty wave rush&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er him as he spoke,<br/>
+The raft is cover&rsquo;d, and the mast is broke;<br/>
+Swept from the deck and from the rudder torn,<br/>
+Far on the swelling surge the chief was borne;<br/>
+While by the howling tempest rent in twain<br/>
+Flew sail and sail-yards rattling o&rsquo;er the main.<br/>
+Long-press&rsquo;d, he heaved beneath the weighty wave,<br/>
+Clogg&rsquo;d by the cumbrous vest Calypso gave;<br/>
+At length, emerging, from his nostrils wide<br/>
+And gushing mouth effused the briny tide;<br/>
+E&rsquo;en then not mindless of his last retreat,<br/>
+He seized the raft, and leap&rsquo;d into his seat,<br/>
+Strong with the fear of death. In rolling flood,<br/>
+Now here, now there, impell&rsquo;d the floating wood<br/>
+As when a heap of gather&rsquo;d thorns is cast,<br/>
+Now to, now fro, before the autumnal blast;<br/>
+Together clung, it rolls around the field;<br/>
+So roll&rsquo;d the float, and so its texture held:<br/>
+And now the south, and now the north, bear sway,<br/>
+And now the east the foamy floods obey,<br/>
+And now the west wind whirls it o&rsquo;er the sea.<br/>
+The wandering chief with toils on toils oppress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Leucothea saw, and pity touch&rsquo;d her breast.<br/>
+(Herself a mortal once, of Cadmus&rsquo; strain,<br/>
+But now an azure sister of the main)<br/>
+Swift as a sea-mew springing from the flood,<br/>
+All radiant on the raft the goddess stood;<br/>
+Then thus address&rsquo;d him: &ldquo;Thou whom heaven decrees<br/>
+To Neptune&rsquo;s wrath, stern tyrant of the seas!<br/>
+(Unequal contest!) not his rage and power,<br/>
+Great as he is, such virtue shall devour.<br/>
+What I suggest, thy wisdom will perform:<br/>
+Forsake thy float, and leave it to the storm;<br/>
+Strip off thy garments; Neptune&rsquo;s fury brave<br/>
+With naked strength, and plunge into the wave.<br/>
+To reach Phæacia all thy nerves extend,<br/>
+There Fate decrees thy miseries shall end.<br/>
+This heavenly scarf beneath thy bosom bind,<br/>
+And live; give all thy terrors to the wind.<br/>
+Soon as thy arms the happy shore shall gain,<br/>
+Return the gift, and cast it in the main:<br/>
+Observe my orders, and with heed obey,<br/>
+Cast it far off, and turn thy eyes away.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With that, her hand the sacred veil bestows,<br/>
+Then down the deeps she dived from whence she rose;<br/>
+A moment snatch&rsquo;d the shining form away,<br/>
+And all was covered with the curling sea.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Struck with amaze, yet still to doubt inclined,<br/>
+He stands suspended, and explores his mind:<br/>
+&ldquo;What shall I do? unhappy me! who knows<br/>
+But other gods intend me other woes?<br/>
+Whoe&rsquo;er thou art, I shall not blindly join<br/>
+Thy pleaded reason, but consult with mine:<br/>
+For scarce in ken appears that distant isle<br/>
+Thy voice foretells me shall conclude my toil.<br/>
+Thus then I judge: while yet the planks sustain<br/>
+The wild waves&rsquo; fury, here I fix&rsquo;d remain:<br/>
+But, when their texture to the tempest yields,<br/>
+I launch adventurous on the liquid fields,<br/>
+Join to the help of gods the strength of man,<br/>
+And take this method, since the best I can.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While thus his thoughts an anxious council hold,<br/>
+The raging god a watery mountain roll&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Like a black sheet the whelming billows spread,<br/>
+Burst o&rsquo;er the float, and thunder&rsquo;d on his head.<br/>
+Planks, beams, disparted fly; the scatter&rsquo;d wood<br/>
+Rolls diverse, and in fragments strews the flood.<br/>
+So the rude Boreas, o&rsquo;er the field new-shorn,<br/>
+Tosses and drives the scatter&rsquo;d heaps of corn.<br/>
+And now a single beam the chief bestrides:<br/>
+There poised a while above the bounding tides,<br/>
+His limbs discumbers of the clinging vest,<br/>
+And binds the sacred cincture round his breast:<br/>
+Then prone an ocean in a moment flung,<br/>
+Stretch&rsquo;d wide his eager arms, and shot the seas along.<br/>
+All naked now, on heaving billows laid,<br/>
+Stern Neptune eyed him, and contemptuous said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go, learn&rsquo;d in woes, and other foes essay!<br/>
+Go, wander helpless on the watery way;<br/>
+Thus, thus find out the destined shore, and then<br/>
+(If Jove ordains it) mix with happier men.<br/>
+Whate&rsquo;er thy fate, the ills our wrath could raise<br/>
+Shall last remember&rsquo;d in thy best of days.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This said, his sea-green steeds divide the foam,<br/>
+And reach high Ægæ and the towery dome.<br/>
+Now, scarce withdrawn the fierce earth-shaking power,<br/>
+Jove&rsquo;s daughter Pallas watch&rsquo;d the favouring hour.<br/>
+Back to their caves she bade the winds to fly;<br/>
+And hush&rsquo;d the blustering brethren of the sky.<br/>
+The drier blasts alone of Boreas away,<br/>
+And bear him soft on broken waves away;<br/>
+With gentle force impelling to that shore,<br/>
+Where fate has destined he shall toil no more.<br/>
+And now, two nights, and now two days were pass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Since wide he wander&rsquo;d on the watery waste;<br/>
+Heaved on the surge with intermitting breath,<br/>
+And hourly panting in the arms of death.<br/>
+The third fair morn now blazed upon the main;<br/>
+Then glassy smooth lay all the liquid plain;<br/>
+The winds were hush&rsquo;d, the billows scarcely curl&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And a dead silence still&rsquo;d the watery world;<br/>
+When lifted on a ridgy wave he spies<br/>
+The land at distance, and with sharpen&rsquo;d eyes.<br/>
+As pious children joy with vast delight<br/>
+When a loved sire revives before their sight<br/>
+(Who, lingering long, has call&rsquo;d on death in vain,<br/>
+Fix&rsquo;d by some demon to his bed of pain,<br/>
+Till heaven by miracle his life restore);<br/>
+So joys Ulysses at the appearing shore;<br/>
+And sees (and labours onward as he sees)<br/>
+The rising forests, and the tufted trees.<br/>
+And now, as near approaching as the sound<br/>
+Of human voice the listening ear may wound,<br/>
+Amidst the rocks he heard a hollow roar<br/>
+Of murmuring surges breaking on the shore;<br/>
+Nor peaceful port was there, nor winding bay,<br/>
+To shield the vessel from the rolling sea,<br/>
+But cliffs and shaggy shores, a dreadful sight!<br/>
+All rough with rocks, with foamy billows white.<br/>
+Fear seized his slacken&rsquo;d limbs and beating heart,<br/>
+As thus he communed with his soul apart;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah me! when, o&rsquo;er a length of waters toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+These eyes at last behold the unhoped-for coast,<br/>
+No port receives me from the angry main,<br/>
+But the loud deeps demand me back again.<br/>
+Above, sharp rocks forbid access; around<br/>
+Roar the wild waves; beneath, is sea profound!<br/>
+No footing sure affords the faithless sand,<br/>
+To stem too rapid, and too deep to stand.<br/>
+If here I enter, my efforts are vain,<br/>
+Dash&rsquo;d on the cliffs, or heaved into the main;<br/>
+Or round the island if my course I bend,<br/>
+Where the ports open, or the shores descend,<br/>
+Back to the seas the rolling surge may sweep,<br/>
+And bury all my hopes beneath the deep.<br/>
+Or some enormous whale the god may send<br/>
+(For many such an Amphitrite attend);<br/>
+Too well the turns of mortal chance I know,<br/>
+And hate relentless of my heavenly foe.&rdquo;<br/>
+While thus he thought, a monstrous wave upbore<br/>
+The chief, and dash&rsquo;d him on the craggy shore;<br/>
+Torn was his skin, nor had the ribs been whole,<br/>
+But Instant Pallas enter&rsquo;d in his soul.<br/>
+Close to the cliff with both his hands he clung,<br/>
+And stuck adherent, and suspended hung;<br/>
+Till the huge surge roll&rsquo;d off; then backward sweep<br/>
+The refluent tides, and plunge him in the deep.<br/>
+As when the polypus, from forth his cave<br/>
+Torn with full force, reluctant beats the wave,<br/>
+His ragged claws are stuck with stones and sands;<br/>
+So the rough rock had shagg&rsquo;d Ulysses hands,<br/>
+And now had perish&rsquo;d, whelm&rsquo;d beneath the main,<br/>
+The unhappy man; e&rsquo;en fate had been in vain;<br/>
+But all-subduing Pallas lent her power,<br/>
+And prudence saved him in the needful hour.<br/>
+Beyond the beating surge his course he bore,<br/>
+(A wider circle, but in sight of shore),<br/>
+With longing eyes, observing, to survey<br/>
+Some smooth ascent, or safe sequester&rsquo;d bay.<br/>
+Between the parting rocks at length he spied<br/>
+A failing stream with gentler waters glide;<br/>
+Where to the seas the shelving shore declined,<br/>
+And form&rsquo;d a bay impervious to the wind.<br/>
+To this calm port the glad Ulysses press&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And hail&rsquo;d the river, and its god address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whoe&rsquo;er thou art, before whose stream unknown<br/>
+I bend, a suppliant at thy watery throne,<br/>
+Hear, azure king! nor let me fly in vain<br/>
+To thee from Neptune and the raging main<br/>
+Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me,<br/>
+For sacred even to gods is misery:<br/>
+Let then thy waters give the weary rest,<br/>
+And save a suppliant, and a man distress&rsquo;d.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He pray&rsquo;d, and straight the gentle stream subsides,<br/>
+Detains the rushing current of his tides,<br/>
+Before the wanderer smooths the watery way,<br/>
+And soft receives him from the rolling sea.<br/>
+That moment, fainting as he touch&rsquo;d the shore,<br/>
+He dropp&rsquo;d his sinewy arms: his knees no more<br/>
+Perform&rsquo;d their office, or his weight upheld:<br/>
+His swoln heart heaved; his bloated body swell&rsquo;d:<br/>
+From mouth and nose the briny torrent ran;<br/>
+And lost in lassitude lay all the man,<br/>
+Deprived of voice, of motion, and of breath;<br/>
+The soul scarce waking in the arms of death.<br/>
+Soon as warm life its wonted office found,<br/>
+The mindful chief Leucothea&rsquo;s scarf unbound;<br/>
+Observant of her word, he turn&rsquo;d aside<br/>
+His head, and cast it on the rolling tide.<br/>
+Behind him far, upon the purple waves,<br/>
+The waters waft it, and the nymph receives.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now parting from the stream, Ulysses found<br/>
+A mossy bank with pliant rushes crown&rsquo;d;<br/>
+The bank he press&rsquo;d, and gently kiss&rsquo;d the ground;<br/>
+Where on the flowery herb as soft he lay,<br/>
+Thus to his soul the sage began to say:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What will ye next ordain, ye powers on high!<br/>
+And yet, ah yet, what fates are we to try?<br/>
+Here by the stream, if I the night out-wear,<br/>
+Thus spent already, how shall nature bear<br/>
+The dews descending, and nocturnal air;<br/>
+Or chilly vapours breathing from the flood<br/>
+When morning rises?&mdash;If I take the wood,<br/>
+And in thick shelter of innumerous boughs<br/>
+Enjoy the comfort gentle sleep allows;<br/>
+Though fenced from cold, and though my toil be pass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+What savage beasts may wander in the waste?<br/>
+Perhaps I yet may fall a bloody prey<br/>
+To prowling bears, or lions in the way.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus long debating in himself he stood:<br/>
+At length he took the passage to the wood,<br/>
+Whose shady horrors on a rising brow<br/>
+Waved high, and frown&rsquo;d upon the stream below.<br/>
+There grew two olives, closest of the grove,<br/>
+With roots entwined, the branches interwove;<br/>
+Alike their leaves, but not alike they smiled<br/>
+With sister-fruits; one fertile, one was wild.<br/>
+Nor here the sun&rsquo;s meridian rays had power,<br/>
+Nor wind sharp-piercing, nor the rushing shower;<br/>
+The verdant arch so close its texture kept:<br/>
+Beneath this covert great Ulysses crept.<br/>
+Of gather&rsquo;d leaves an ample bed he made<br/>
+(Thick strewn by tempest through the bowery shade);<br/>
+Where three at least might winter&rsquo;s cold defy,<br/>
+Though Boreas raged along the inclement sky.<br/>
+This store with joy the patient hero found,<br/>
+And, sunk amidst them, heap&rsquo;d the leaves around.<br/>
+As some poor peasant, fated to reside<br/>
+Remote from neighbours in a forest wide,<br/>
+Studious to save what human wants require,<br/>
+In embers heap&rsquo;d, preserves the seeds of fire:<br/>
+Hid in dry foliage thus Ulysses lies,<br/>
+Till Pallas pour&rsquo;d soft slumbers on his eyes;<br/>
+And golden dreams (the gift of sweet repose)<br/>
+Lull&rsquo;d all his cares, and banish&rsquo;d all his woes.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap06"></a>BOOK VI.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Pallas appearing in a dream in to Nausicaa (the daughter of Alcinous, king of
+Phæacia, commands her to descend to the river, and wash the robes of state, in
+preparation for her nuptials. Nausicaa goes with her handmaidens to the river;
+where, while the garments are spread on the bank, they divert themselves in
+sports. Their voices awaken Ulysses, who, addressing himself to the princess,
+is by her relieved and clothed, and receives directions in what manner to apply
+to the king and queen of the island.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+While thus the weary wanderer sunk to rest,<br/>
+And peaceful slumbers calmed his anxious breast,<br/>
+The martial maid from heaven&rsquo;s aërial height<br/>
+Swift to Phæacia wing&rsquo;d her rapid flight.<br/>
+In elder times the soft Phæacian train<br/>
+In ease possess&rsquo;d the wide Hyperian plain;<br/>
+Till the Cyclopæan race in arms arose,<br/>
+A lawless nation of gigantic foes;<br/>
+Then great Nausithous from Hyperia far,<br/>
+Through seas retreating from the sounds of war,<br/>
+The recreant nation to fair Scheria led,<br/>
+Where never science rear&rsquo;d her laurell&rsquo;d head;<br/>
+There round his tribes a strength of wall he raised;<br/>
+To heaven the glittering domes and temples blazed;<br/>
+Just to his realms, he parted grounds from grounds,<br/>
+And shared the lands, and gave the lands their bounds.<br/>
+Now in the silent grave the monarch lay,<br/>
+And wise Alcinous held the legal sway.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To his high palace through the fields of air<br/>
+The goddess shot; Ulysses was her care.<br/>
+There, as the night in silence roll&rsquo;d away,<br/>
+A heaven of charms divine Nausicaa lay:<br/>
+Through the thick gloom the shining portals blaze;<br/>
+Two nymphs the portals guard, each nymph a Grace,<br/>
+Light as the viewless air the warrior maid<br/>
+Glides through the valves, and hovers round her head;<br/>
+A favourite virgin&rsquo;s blooming form she took,<br/>
+From Dymas sprung, and thus the vision spoke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh Indolent! to waste thy hours away!<br/>
+And sleep&rsquo;st thou careless of the bridal day!<br/>
+Thy spousal ornament neglected lies;<br/>
+Arise, prepare the bridal train, arise!<br/>
+A just applause the cares of dress impart,<br/>
+And give soft transport to a parent&rsquo;s heart.<br/>
+Haste, to the limpid stream direct thy way,<br/>
+When the gay morn unveils her smiling ray;<br/>
+Haste to the stream! companion of thy care,<br/>
+Lo, I thy steps attend, thy labours share.<br/>
+Virgin, awake! the marriage hour is nigh,<br/>
+See from their thrones thy kindred monarchs sigh!<br/>
+The royal car at early dawn obtain,<br/>
+And order mules obedient to the rein;<br/>
+For rough the way, and distant rolls the wave,<br/>
+Where their fair vests Phæacian virgins lave,<br/>
+In pomp ride forth; for pomp becomes the great<br/>
+And majesty derives a grace from state.&rdquo;<br/>
+Then to the palaces of heaven she sails,<br/>
+Incumbent on the wings of wafting gales;<br/>
+The seat of gods; the regions mild of peace,<br/>
+Full joy, and calm eternity of ease.<br/>
+There no rude winds presume to shake the skies,<br/>
+No rains descend, no snowy vapours rise;<br/>
+But on immortal thrones the blest repose;<br/>
+The firmament with living splendours glows.<br/>
+Hither the goddess winged the aërial way,<br/>
+Through heaven&rsquo;s eternal gates that blazed with day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now from her rosy car Aurora shed<br/>
+The dawn, and all the orient flamed with red.<br/>
+Up rose the virgin with the morning light,<br/>
+Obedient to the vision of the night.<br/>
+The queen she sought, the queen her hours bestowed<br/>
+In curious works; the whirling spindle glow&rsquo;d<br/>
+With crimson threads, while busy damsels call<br/>
+The snowy fleece, or twist the purpled wool.<br/>
+Meanwhile Phæacia&rsquo;s peers in council sate;<br/>
+From his high dome the king descends in state;<br/>
+Then with a filial awe the royal maid<br/>
+Approach&rsquo;d him passing, and submissive said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will my dread sire his ear regardful deign,<br/>
+And may his child the royal car obtain?<br/>
+Say, with my garments shall I bend my way?<br/>
+Where through the vales the mazy waters stray?<br/>
+A dignity of dress adorns the great,<br/>
+And kings draw lustre from the robe of state.<br/>
+Five sons thou hast; three wait the bridal day.<br/>
+And spotless robes become the young and gay;<br/>
+So when with praise amid the dance they shine,<br/>
+By these my cares adorn&rsquo;d that praise is mine.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus she: but blushes ill-restrain&rsquo;d betray<br/>
+Her thoughts intentive on the bridal day,<br/>
+The conscious sire the dawning blush survey&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And, smiling, thus bespoke the blooming maid<br/>
+&ldquo;My child, my darling joy, the car receive;<br/>
+That, and whate&rsquo;er our daughter asks, we give.&rdquo;<br/>
+Swift at the royal nod the attending train<br/>
+The car prepare, the mules incessant rein,<br/>
+The blooming virgin with despatchful cares<br/>
+Tunics, and stoles, and robes imperial, bears.<br/>
+The queen, assiduous to her train assigns<br/>
+The sumptuous viands, and the flavorous wines.<br/>
+The train prepare a cruse of curious mould,<br/>
+A cruse of fragrance, form&rsquo;d of burnish&rsquo;d gold;<br/>
+Odour divine! whose soft refreshing streams<br/>
+Sleek the smooth skin, and scent the snowy limbs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now mounting the gay seat, the silken reins<br/>
+Shine in her hand; along the sounding plains<br/>
+Swift fly the mules; nor rode the nymph alone;<br/>
+Around, a bevy of bright damsels shone.<br/>
+They seek the cisterns where Phæacian dames<br/>
+Wash their fair garments in the limpid streams;<br/>
+Where, gathering into depth from falling rills,<br/>
+The lucid wave a spacious bason fills.<br/>
+The mules, unharness&rsquo;d, range beside the main,<br/>
+Or crop the verdant herbage of the plain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then emulous the royal robes they lave,<br/>
+And plunge the vestures in the cleansing wave<br/>
+(The vestures cleansed o&rsquo;erspread the shelly sand,<br/>
+Their snowy lustre whitens all the strand);<br/>
+Then with a short repast relieve their toil,<br/>
+And o&rsquo;er their limbs diffuse ambrosial oil;<br/>
+And while the robes imbibe the solar ray,<br/>
+O&rsquo;er the green mead the sporting virgins play<br/>
+(Their shining veils unbound). Along the skies,<br/>
+Toss&rsquo;d and retoss&rsquo;d, the ball incessant flies.<br/>
+They sport, they feast; Nausicaa lifts her voice,<br/>
+And, warbling sweet, makes earth and heaven rejoice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As when o&rsquo;er Erymanth Diana roves,<br/>
+Or wide Täygetus&rsquo; resounding groves;<br/>
+A sylvan train the huntress queen surrounds,<br/>
+Her rattling quiver from her shoulders sounds:<br/>
+Fierce in the sport, along the mountain&rsquo;s brow<br/>
+They bay the boar, or chase the bounding roe;<br/>
+High o&rsquo;er the lawn, with more majestic pace,<br/>
+Above the nymphs she treads with stately grace;<br/>
+Distinguish&rsquo;d excellence the goddess proves;<br/>
+Exults Latona as the virgin moves.<br/>
+With equal grace Nausicaa trod the plain,<br/>
+And shone transcendent o&rsquo;er the beauteous train.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meantime (the care and favourite of the skies<br/>
+Wrapp&rsquo;d in imbowering shade, Ulysses lies,<br/>
+His woes forgot! but Pallas now address&rsquo;d<br/>
+To break the bands of all-composing rest.<br/>
+Forth from her snowy hand Nausicaa threw<br/>
+The various ball; the ball erroneous flew<br/>
+And swam the stream; loud shrieks the virgin train,<br/>
+And the loud shriek redoubles from the main.<br/>
+Waked by the shrilling sound, Ulysses rose,<br/>
+And, to the deaf woods wailing, breathed his woes:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah me! on what inhospitable coast,<br/>
+On what new region is Ulysses toss&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Possess&rsquo;d by wild barbarians fierce in arms;<br/>
+Or men, whose bosom tender pity warms?<br/>
+What sounds are these that gather from he shores?<br/>
+The voice of nymphs that haunt the sylvan bowers,<br/>
+The fair-hair&rsquo;d Dryads of the shady wood;<br/>
+Or azure daughters of the silver flood;<br/>
+Or human voice? but issuing from the shades,<br/>
+Why cease I straight to learn what sound invades?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, where the grove with leaves umbrageous bends,<br/>
+With forceful strength a branch the hero rends;<br/>
+Around his loins the verdant cincture spreads<br/>
+A wreathy foliage and concealing shades.<br/>
+As when a lion in the midnight hours,<br/>
+Beat by rude blasts, and wet with wintry showers,<br/>
+Descends terrific from the mountains brow;<br/>
+With living flames his rolling eye balls glow;<br/>
+With conscious strength elate, he bends his way,<br/>
+Majestically fierce, to seize his prey<br/>
+(The steer or stag;) or, with keen hunger bold,<br/>
+Spring o&rsquo;er the fence and dissipates the fold.<br/>
+No less a terror, from the neighbouring groves<br/>
+(Rough from the tossing surge) Ulysses moves;<br/>
+Urged on by want, and recent from the storms;<br/>
+The brackish ooze his manly grace deforms.<br/>
+Wide o&rsquo;er the shore with many a piercing cry<br/>
+To rocks, to caves, the frightened virgins fly;<br/>
+All but the nymph; the nymph stood fix&rsquo;d alone,<br/>
+By Pallas arm&rsquo;d with boldness not her own.<br/>
+Meantime in dubious thought the king awaits,<br/>
+And, self-considering, as he stands, debates;<br/>
+Distant his mournful story to declare,<br/>
+Or prostrate at her knee address the prayer.<br/>
+But fearful to offend, by wisdom sway&rsquo;d,<br/>
+At awful distance he accosts the maid:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If from the skies a goddess, or if earth<br/>
+(Imperial virgin) boast thy glorious birth,<br/>
+To thee I bend! If in that bright disguise<br/>
+Thou visit earth, a daughter of the skies,<br/>
+Hail, Dian, hail! the huntress of the groves<br/>
+So shines majestic, and so stately moves,<br/>
+So breathes an air divine! But if thy race<br/>
+Be mortal, and this earth thy native place,<br/>
+Blest is the father from whose loins you sprung,<br/>
+Blest is the mother at whose breast you hung.<br/>
+Blest are the brethren who thy blood divide,<br/>
+To such a miracle of charms allied:<br/>
+Joyful they see applauding princes gaze,<br/>
+When stately in the dance you swim the harmonious maze.<br/>
+But blest o&rsquo;er all, the youth with heavenly charms,<br/>
+Who clasps the bright perfection in his arms!<br/>
+Never, I never view&rsquo;d till this blest hour<br/>
+Such finish&rsquo;d grace! I gaze, and I adore!<br/>
+Thus seems the palm with stately honours crown&rsquo;d<br/>
+By Phœbus&rsquo; altars; thus o&rsquo;erlooks the ground;<br/>
+The pride of Delos. (By the Delian coast,<br/>
+I voyaged, leader of a warrior-host,<br/>
+But ah, how changed! from thence my sorrow flows;<br/>
+O fatal voyage, source of all my woes;)<br/>
+Raptured I stood, and as this hour amazed,<br/>
+With reverence at the lofty wonder gazed:<br/>
+Raptured I stand! for earth ne&rsquo;er knew to bear<br/>
+A plant so stately, or a nymph so fair.<br/>
+Awed from access, I lift my suppliant hands;<br/>
+For Misery, O queen! before thee stands.<br/>
+Twice ten tempestuous nights I roll&rsquo;d, resign&rsquo;d<br/>
+To roaring billows, and the warring wind;<br/>
+Heaven bade the deep to spare; but heaven, my foe,<br/>
+Spares only to inflict some mightier woe.<br/>
+Inured to cares, to death in all its forms;<br/>
+Outcast I rove, familiar with the storms.<br/>
+Once more I view the face of human kind:<br/>
+Oh let soft pity touch thy generous mind!<br/>
+Unconscious of what air I breathe, I stand<br/>
+Naked, defenceless on a narrow land.<br/>
+Propitious to my wants a vest supply<br/>
+To guard the wretched from the inclement sky:<br/>
+So may the gods, who heaven and earth control,<br/>
+Crown the chaste wishes of thy virtuous soul,<br/>
+On thy soft hours their choicest blessings shed;<br/>
+Blest with a husband be thy bridal bed;<br/>
+Blest be thy husband with a blooming race,<br/>
+And lasting union crown your blissful days.<br/>
+The gods, when they supremely bless, bestow<br/>
+Firm union on their favourites below;<br/>
+Then envy grieves, with inly-pining hate;<br/>
+The good exult, and heaven is in our state.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the nymph: &ldquo;O stranger, cease thy care;<br/>
+Wise is thy soul, but man is born to bear;<br/>
+Jove weighs affairs of earth in dubious scales,<br/>
+And the good suffers, while the bad prevails.<br/>
+Bear, with a soul resign&rsquo;d, the will of Jove;<br/>
+Who breathes, must mourn: thy woes are from above.<br/>
+But since thou tread&rsquo;st our hospitable shore,<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis mine to bid the wretched grieve no more,<br/>
+To clothe the naked, and thy way to guide.<br/>
+Know, the Phæacian tribes this land divide;<br/>
+From great Alcinous&rsquo; royal loins I spring,<br/>
+A happy nation, and a happy king.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then to her maids: &ldquo;Why, why, ye coward train,<br/>
+These fears, this flight? ye fear, and fly in vain.<br/>
+Dread ye a foe? dismiss that idle dread,<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis death with hostile step these shores to tread;<br/>
+Safe in the love of heaven, an ocean flows<br/>
+Around our realm, a barrier from the foes;<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis ours this son of sorrow to relieve,<br/>
+Cheer the sad heart, nor let affliction grieve.<br/>
+By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent;<br/>
+And what to those we give to Jove is lent.<br/>
+Then food supply, and bathe his fainting limbs<br/>
+Where waving shades obscure the mazy streams.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Obedient to the call, the chief they guide<br/>
+To the calm current of the secret tide;<br/>
+Close by the stream a royal dress they lay,<br/>
+A vest and robe, with rich embroidery gay;<br/>
+Then unguents in a vase of gold supply,<br/>
+That breathed a fragrance through the balmy sky.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To them the king: &ldquo;No longer I detain<br/>
+Your friendly care: retire, ye virgin train!<br/>
+Retire, while from my wearied limbs I lave<br/>
+The foul pollution of the briny wave.<br/>
+Ye gods! since this worn frame refection knew,<br/>
+What scenes have I surveyed of dreadful view!<br/>
+But, nymphs, recede! sage chastity denies<br/>
+To raise the blush, or pain the modest eyes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The nymphs withdrawn, at once into the tide<br/>
+Active he bounds; the flashing waves divide<br/>
+O&rsquo;er all his limbs his hands the waves diffuse,<br/>
+And from his locks compress the weedy ooze;<br/>
+The balmy oil, a fragrant shower, be sheds;<br/>
+Then, dressed, in pomp magnificently treads.<br/>
+The warrior-goddess gives his frame to shine<br/>
+With majesty enlarged, and air divine:<br/>
+Back from his brows a length of hair unfurls,<br/>
+His hyacinthine locks descend in wavy curls.<br/>
+As by some artist, to whom Vulcan gives<br/>
+His skill divine, a breathing statue lives;<br/>
+By Pallas taught, he frames the wondrous mould,<br/>
+And o&rsquo;er the silver pours the fusile gold<br/>
+So Pallas his heroic frame improves<br/>
+With heavenly bloom, and like a god he moves.<br/>
+A fragrance breathes around; majestic grace<br/>
+Attends his steps: the astonished virgins gaze.<br/>
+Soft he reclines along the murmuring seas,<br/>
+Inhaling freshness from the fanning breeze.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The wondering nymph his glorious port survey&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And to her damsels, with amazement, said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not without care divine the stranger treads<br/>
+This land of joy; his steps some godhead leads:<br/>
+Would Jove destroy him, sure he had been driven<br/>
+Far from this realm, the favourite isle of heaven.<br/>
+Late, a sad spectacle of woe, he trod<br/>
+The desert sands, and now he looks a god.<br/>
+Oh heaven! in my connubial hour decree<br/>
+This man my spouse, or such a spouse as he!<br/>
+But haste, the viands and the bowl provide.&rdquo;<br/>
+The maids the viands and the bowl supplied:<br/>
+Eager he fed, for keen his hunger raged,<br/>
+And with the generous vintage thirst assuaged.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now on return her care Nausicaa bends,<br/>
+The robes resumes, the glittering car ascends,<br/>
+Far blooming o&rsquo;er the field; and as she press&rsquo;d<br/>
+The splendid seat, the listening chief address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Stranger, arise! the sun rolls down the day.<br/>
+Lo, to the palace I direct thy way;<br/>
+Where, in high state, the nobles of the land<br/>
+Attend my royal sire, a radiant band<br/>
+But hear, though wisdom in thy soul presides,<br/>
+Speaks from thy tongue, and every action guides;<br/>
+Advance at distance, while I pass the plain<br/>
+Where o&rsquo;er the furrows waves the golden grain;<br/>
+Alone I reascend&mdash;With airy mounds<br/>
+A strength of wall the guarded city bounds;<br/>
+The jutting land two ample bays divides:<br/>
+Full through the narrow mouths descend the tides;<br/>
+The spacious basons arching rocks enclose,<br/>
+A sure defence from every storm that blows.<br/>
+Close to the bay great Neptune&rsquo;s fane adjoins;<br/>
+And near, a forum flank&rsquo;d with marble shines,<br/>
+Where the bold youth, the numerous fleets to store,<br/>
+Shape the broad sail, or smooth the taper oar:<br/>
+For not the bow they bend, nor boast the skill<br/>
+To give the feather&rsquo;d arrow wings to kill;<br/>
+But the tall mast above the vessel rear,<br/>
+Or teach the fluttering sail to float in air.<br/>
+They rush into the deep with eager joy,<br/>
+Climb the steep surge, and through the tempest fly;<br/>
+A proud, unpolish&rsquo;d race&mdash;To me belongs<br/>
+The care to shun the blast of slanderous tongues;<br/>
+Lest malice, prone the virtuous to defame,<br/>
+Thus with wild censure taint my spotless name:<br/>
+&lsquo;What stranger this whom thus Nausicaa leads!<br/>
+Heavens, with what graceful majesty he treads!<br/>
+Perhaps a native of some distant shore,<br/>
+The future consort of her bridal hour:<br/>
+Or rather some descendant of the skies;<br/>
+Won by her prayer, the aërial bridegroom flies,<br/>
+Heaven on that hour its choicest influence shed,<br/>
+That gave a foreign spouse to crown her bed!<br/>
+All, all the godlike worthies that adorn<br/>
+This realm, she flies: Phæacia is her scorn.&rsquo;<br/>
+And just the blame: for female innocence<br/>
+Not only flies the guilt, but shuns the offence:<br/>
+The unguarded virgin, as unchaste, I blame;<br/>
+And the least freedom with the sex is shame,<br/>
+Till our consenting sires a spouse provide,<br/>
+And public nuptials justify the bride,<br/>
+But would&rsquo;st thou soon review thy native plain?<br/>
+Attend, and speedy thou shalt pass the main:<br/>
+Nigh where a grove with verdant poplars crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+To Pallas sacred, shades the holy ground,<br/>
+We bend our way; a bubbling fount distills<br/>
+A lucid lake, and thence descends in rills;<br/>
+Around the grove, a mead with lively green<br/>
+Falls by degrees, and forms a beauteous scene;<br/>
+Here a rich juice the royal vineyard pours;<br/>
+And there the garden yields a waste of flowers.<br/>
+Hence lies the town, as far as to the ear<br/>
+Floats a strong shout along the waves of air.<br/>
+There wait embower&rsquo;d, while I ascend alone<br/>
+To great Alcinous on his royal throne.<br/>
+Arrived, advance, impatient of delay,<br/>
+And to the lofty palace bend thy way:<br/>
+The lofty palace overlooks the town,<br/>
+From every dome by pomp superior known;<br/>
+A child may point the way. With earnest gait<br/>
+Seek thou the queen along the rooms of state;<br/>
+Her royal hand a wondrous work designs,<br/>
+Around a circle of bright damsels shines;<br/>
+Part twist the threads, and part the wool dispose,<br/>
+While with the purple orb the spindle glows.<br/>
+High on a throne, amid the Scherian powers,<br/>
+My royal father shares the genial hours:<br/>
+But to the queen thy mournful tale disclose,<br/>
+With the prevailing eloquence of woes:<br/>
+So shalt thou view with joy thy natal shore,<br/>
+Though mountains rise between and oceans roar.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She added not, but waving, as she wheel&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The silver scourge, it glitter&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er the field;<br/>
+With skill the virgin guides the embroider&rsquo;d rein,<br/>
+Slow rolls the car before the attending train,<br/>
+Now whirling down the heavens, the golden day<br/>
+Shot through the western clouds a dewy ray;<br/>
+The grove they reach, where, from the sacred shade,<br/>
+To Pallas thus the pensive hero pray&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Daughter of Jove! whose arms in thunder wield<br/>
+The avenging bolt, and shake the dreadful shield;<br/>
+Forsook by thee, in vain I sought thy aid<br/>
+When booming billows closed above my bead;<br/>
+Attend, unconquer&rsquo;d maid! accord my vows,<br/>
+Bid the Great hear, and pitying, heal my woes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This heard Minerva, but forbore to fly<br/>
+(By Neptune awed) apparent from the sky;<br/>
+Stern god! who raged with vengeance, unrestrain&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Till great Ulysses hail&rsquo;d his native land.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap07"></a>BOOK VII.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE COURT OF ALCINOUS.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+The princess Nausicaa returns to the city and Ulysses soon after follows
+thither. He is met by Pallas in the form of a young virgin, who guides him to
+the palace, and directs him in what manner to address the queen Arete. She then
+involves him in a mist which causes him to pass invisible. The palace and
+gardens of Alcinous described. Ulysses falling at the feet of the queen, the
+mist disperses, the Phæacians admire, and receive him with respect. The queen
+inquiring by what means he had the garments he then wore, be relates to her and
+Alcinous his departure from Calypso, and his arrival in their dominions.<br/>
+    The same day continues, and the book ends with the night.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+The patient heavenly man thus suppliant pray&rsquo;d;<br/>
+While the slow mules draws on the imperial maid;<br/>
+Through the proud street she moves, the public gaze;<br/>
+The turning wheel before the palace stays.<br/>
+With ready love her brothers, gathering round,<br/>
+Received the vestures, and the mules unbound.<br/>
+She seeks the bridal bower: a matron there<br/>
+The rising fire supplies with busy care,<br/>
+Whose charms in youth her father&rsquo;s heart inflamed,<br/>
+Now worn with age, Eurymedusa named;<br/>
+The captive dame Phæacian rovers bore,<br/>
+Snatch&rsquo;d from Epirus, her sweet native shore<br/>
+(A grateful prize), and in her bloom bestow&rsquo;d<br/>
+On good Alcinous, honor&rsquo;d as a god;<br/>
+Nurse of Nausicaa from her infant years,<br/>
+And tender second to a mother&rsquo;s cares.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now from the sacred thicket where he lay,<br/>
+To town Ulysses took the winding way.<br/>
+Propitious Pallas, to secure her care,<br/>
+Around him spread a veil of thicken&rsquo;d air;<br/>
+To shun the encounter of the vulgar crowd,<br/>
+Insulting still, inquisitive and loud.<br/>
+When near the famed Phæacian walls he drew,<br/>
+The beauteous city opening to his view,<br/>
+His step a virgin met, and stood before:<br/>
+A polish&rsquo;d urn the seeming virgin bore,<br/>
+And youthful smiled; but in the low disguise<br/>
+Lay hid the goddess with the azure eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Show me, fair daughter (thus the chief demands),<br/>
+The house of him who rules these happy lands<br/>
+Through many woes and wanderings, do I come<br/>
+To good Alcinous&rsquo; hospitable dome.<br/>
+Far from my native coast, I rove alone,<br/>
+A wretched stranger, and of all unknown!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The goddess answer&rsquo;d: &ldquo;Father, I obey,<br/>
+And point the wandering traveller his way:<br/>
+Well known to me the palace you inquire,<br/>
+For fast beside it dwells my honour&rsquo;d sire:<br/>
+But silent march, nor greet the common train<br/>
+With question needless, or inquiry vain;<br/>
+A race of ragged mariners are these,<br/>
+Unpolish&rsquo;d men, and boisterous as their seas<br/>
+The native islanders alone their care,<br/>
+And hateful he who breathes a foreign air.<br/>
+These did the ruler of the deep ordain<br/>
+To build proud navies, and command the main;<br/>
+On canvas wings to cut the watery way;<br/>
+No bird so light, no thought so swift as they.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus having spoke, the unknown celestial leads:<br/>
+The footsteps of the deity he treads,<br/>
+And secret moves along the crowded space,<br/>
+Unseen of all the rude Phæacian race.<br/>
+(So Pallas order&rsquo;d, Pallas to their eyes<br/>
+The mist objected, and condensed the skies.)<br/>
+The chief with wonder sees the extended streets,<br/>
+The spreading harbours, and the riding fleets;<br/>
+He next their princes&rsquo; lofty domes admires,<br/>
+In separate islands, crown&rsquo;d with rising spires;<br/>
+And deep entrenchments, and high walls of stone.<br/>
+That gird the city like a marble zone.<br/>
+At length the kingly palace-gates he view&rsquo;d;<br/>
+There stopp&rsquo;d the goddess, and her speech renew&rsquo;d;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My task is done: the mansion you inquire<br/>
+Appears before you: enter, and admire.<br/>
+High-throned, and feasting, there thou shalt behold<br/>
+The sceptred rulers. Fear not, but be bold:<br/>
+A decent boldness ever meets with friends,<br/>
+Succeeds, and even a stranger recommends<br/>
+First to the queen prefer a suppliant&rsquo;s claim,<br/>
+Alcinous&rsquo; queen, Arete is her name.<br/>
+The same her parents, and her power the same.<br/>
+For know, from ocean&rsquo;s god Nausithous sprung,<br/>
+And Peribæa, beautiful and young<br/>
+(Eurymedon&rsquo;s last hope, who ruled of old<br/>
+The race of giants, impious, proud, and bold:<br/>
+Perish&rsquo;d the nation in unrighteous war,<br/>
+Perish&rsquo;d the prince, and left this only heir),<br/>
+Who now, by Neptune&rsquo;s amorous power compress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Produced a monarch that his people bless&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Father and prince of the Phæacian name;<br/>
+From him Rhexenor and Alcinous came.<br/>
+The first by Phœbus&rsquo; hurtling arrows fired,<br/>
+New from his nuptials, hapless youth! expired.<br/>
+No son survived; Arete heir&rsquo;d his state,<br/>
+And her, Alcinous chose his royal mate.<br/>
+With honours yet to womankind unknown.<br/>
+This queen he graces, and divides the throne;<br/>
+In equal tenderness her sons conspire,<br/>
+And all the children emulate their sire.<br/>
+When through the streets she gracious deigns to move<br/>
+(The public wonder and the public love),<br/>
+The tongues of all with transport sound her praise,<br/>
+The eyes of all, as on a goddess, gaze.<br/>
+She feels the triumph of a generous breast;<br/>
+To heal divisions, to relieve the oppress&rsquo;d;<br/>
+In virtue rich; in blessing others, bless&rsquo;d.<br/>
+(to then secure, thy humble suit prefer<br/>
+And owe thy country and thy friends to her.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With that the goddess deign&rsquo;d no longer stay,<br/>
+But o&rsquo;er the world of waters wing&rsquo;d her way;<br/>
+Forsaking Scheria&rsquo;s ever-pleasing shore,<br/>
+The winds to Marathon the virgin bore:<br/>
+Thence, where proud Athens rears her towery head,<br/>
+With opening streets and shining structures spread,<br/>
+She pass&rsquo;d, delighted with the well-known seats;<br/>
+And to Erectheus&rsquo; sacred dome retreats.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile Ulysses at the palace waits,<br/>
+There stops, and anxious with his soul debates,<br/>
+Fix&rsquo;d in amaze before the royal gates.<br/>
+The front appear&rsquo;d with radiant splendours gay,<br/>
+Bright as the lamp of night, or orb of day,<br/>
+The walls were massy brass: the cornice high<br/>
+Blue metals crown&rsquo;d in colours of the sky,<br/>
+Rich plates of gold the folding doors incase;<br/>
+The pillars silver, on a brazen base;<br/>
+Silver the lintels deep-projecting o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+And gold the ringlets that command the door.<br/>
+Two rows of stately dogs, on either hand,<br/>
+In sculptured gold and labour&rsquo;d silver stood<br/>
+These Vulcan form&rsquo;d with art divine, to wait<br/>
+Immortal guardians at Alcinous&rsquo; gate;<br/>
+Alive each animated frame appears,<br/>
+And still to live beyond the power of years,<br/>
+Fair thrones within from space to space were raised,<br/>
+Where various carpets with embroidery blessed,<br/>
+The work of matrons: these the princes press&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Day following day, a long-continued feast.<br/>
+Refulgent pedestals the walls surround,<br/>
+Which boys of gold with flaming torches crown&rsquo;d;<br/>
+The polish&rsquo;d ore, reflecting every ray,<br/>
+Blazed on the banquets with a double day.<br/>
+Full fifty handmaids form the household train;<br/>
+Some turn the mill, or sift the golden grain;<br/>
+Some ply the loom; their busy fingers move<br/>
+Like poplar-leaves when Zephyr fans the grove.<br/>
+Not more renown&rsquo;d the men of Scheria&rsquo;s isle<br/>
+For sailing arts and all the naval toil,<br/>
+Than works of female skill their women&rsquo;s pride,<br/>
+The flying shuttle through the threads to guide:<br/>
+Pallas to these her double gifts imparts,<br/>
+Incentive genius, and industrious arts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Close to the gates a spacious garden lies,<br/>
+From storms defended and inclement skies.<br/>
+Four acres was the allotted space of ground,<br/>
+Fenced with a green enclosure all around.<br/>
+Tall thriving trees confess&rsquo;d the fruitful mould:<br/>
+The reddening apple ripens here to gold.<br/>
+Here the blue fig with luscious juice o&rsquo;erflows,<br/>
+With deeper red the full pomegranate glows;<br/>
+The branch here bends beneath the weighty pear,<br/>
+And verdant olives flourish round the year,<br/>
+The balmy spirit of the western gale<br/>
+Eternal breathes on fruits, unthought to fail:<br/>
+Each dropping pear a following pear supplies,<br/>
+On apples apples, figs on figs arise:<br/>
+The same mild season gives the blooms to blow,<br/>
+The buds to harden, and the fruits to grow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here order&rsquo;d vines in equal ranks appear,<br/>
+With all the united labours of the year;<br/>
+Some to unload the fertile branches run,<br/>
+Some dry the blackening clusters in the sun,<br/>
+Others to tread the liquid harvest join:<br/>
+The groaning presses foam with floods of wine<br/>
+Here are the vines in early flower descried,<br/>
+Here grapes discolour&rsquo;d on the sunnyside,<br/>
+And there in autumn&rsquo;s richest purple dyed,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Beds of all various herbs, for ever green,<br/>
+In beauteous order terminate the scene.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two plenteous fountains the whole prospect crown&rsquo;d<br/>
+This through the gardens leads its streams around<br/>
+Visits each plant, and waters all the ground;<br/>
+While that in pipes beneath the palace flows,<br/>
+And thence its current on the town bestows:<br/>
+To various use their various streams they bring,<br/>
+The people one, and one supplies the king.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Such were the glories which the gods ordain&rsquo;d,<br/>
+To grace Alcinous, and his happy land.<br/>
+E&rsquo;en from the chief whom men and nations knew,<br/>
+The unwonted scene surprise and rapture drew;<br/>
+In pleasing thought he ran the prospect o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+Then hasty enter&rsquo;d at the lofty door.<br/>
+Night now approaching, in the palace stand,<br/>
+With goblets crown&rsquo;d, the rulers of the land;<br/>
+Prepared for rest, and offering to the god<br/>
+Who bears the virtue of the sleepy rod,<br/>
+Unseen he glided through the joyous crowd,<br/>
+With darkness circled, and an ambient cloud.<br/>
+Direct to great Alcinous&rsquo; throne he came,<br/>
+And prostrate fell before the imperial dame.<br/>
+Then from around him dropp&rsquo;d the veil of night;<br/>
+Sudden he shines, and manifest to sight.<br/>
+The nobles gaze, with awful fear oppress&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Silent they gaze, and eye the godlike guest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Daughter of great Rhexenor! (thus began,<br/>
+Low at her knees, the much-enduring man)<br/>
+To thee, thy consort, and this royal train,<br/>
+To all that share the blessings of your reign,<br/>
+A suppliant bends: oh pity human woe!<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis what the happy to the unhappy owe.<br/>
+A wretched exile to his country send,<br/>
+Long worn with griefs, and long without a friend<br/>
+So may the gods your better days increase,<br/>
+And all your joys descend on all your race;<br/>
+So reign for ever on your country&rsquo;s breast,<br/>
+Your people blessing, by your people bless&rsquo;d!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then to the genial hearth he bow&rsquo;d his face,<br/>
+And humbled in the ashes took his place.<br/>
+Silence ensued. The eldest first began,<br/>
+Echeneus sage, a venerable man!<br/>
+Whose well-taught mind the present age surpass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And join&rsquo;d to that the experience of the last.<br/>
+Fit words attended on his weighty sense,<br/>
+And mild persuasion flow&rsquo;d in eloquence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh sight (he cried) dishonest and unjust!<br/>
+A guest, a stranger, seated in the dust!<br/>
+To raise the lowly suppliant from the ground<br/>
+Befits a monarch. Lo! the peers around<br/>
+But wait thy word, the gentle guest to grace,<br/>
+And seat him fair in some distinguish&rsquo;d place.<br/>
+Let first the herald due libation pay<br/>
+To Jove, who guides the wanderer on his way:<br/>
+Then set the genial banquet in his view,<br/>
+And give the stranger-guest a stranger&rsquo;s due.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His sage advice the listening king obeys,<br/>
+He stretch&rsquo;d his hand the prudent chief to raise,<br/>
+And from his seat Laodamas removed<br/>
+(The monarch&rsquo;s offspring, and his best-beloved);<br/>
+There next his side the godlike hero sate;<br/>
+With stars of silver shone the bed of state.<br/>
+The golden ewer a beauteous handmaid brings,<br/>
+Replenish&rsquo;d from the cool translucent springs,<br/>
+Whose polish&rsquo;d vase with copious streams supplies<br/>
+A silver layer of capacious size.<br/>
+The table next in regal order spread,<br/>
+The glittering canisters are heap&rsquo;d with bread:<br/>
+Viands of various kinds invite the taste,<br/>
+Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!<br/>
+Thus feasting high, Alcinous gave the sign,<br/>
+And bade the herald pour the rosy wine;<br/>
+&ldquo;Let all around the due libation pay<br/>
+To Jove, who guides the wanderer on his way.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said. Pontonous heard the king&rsquo;s command;<br/>
+The circling goblet moves from hand to hand;<br/>
+Each drinks the juice that glads the heart of man.<br/>
+Alcinous then, with aspect mild, began:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Princes and peers, attend; while we impart<br/>
+To you the thoughts of no inhuman heart.<br/>
+Now pleased and satiate from the social rite<br/>
+Repair we to the blessings of the night;<br/>
+But with the rising day, assembled here,<br/>
+Let all the elders of the land appear,<br/>
+Pious observe our hospitable laws,<br/>
+And Heaven propitiate in the stranger&rsquo;s cause;<br/>
+Then join&rsquo;d in council, proper means explore<br/>
+Safe to transport him to the wished-for shore<br/>
+(How distant that, imports us not to know,<br/>
+Nor weigh the labour, but relieve the woe).<br/>
+Meantime, nor harm nor anguish let him bear<br/>
+This interval, Heaven trusts him to our care<br/>
+But to his native land our charge resign&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Heaven&rsquo;s is his life to come, and all the woes behind.<br/>
+Then must he suffer what the Fates ordain;<br/>
+For Fate has wove the thread of life with pain!<br/>
+And twins, e&rsquo;en from the birth, are Misery and Man!<br/>
+But if, descended from the Olympian bower,<br/>
+Gracious approach us some immortal power;<br/>
+If in that form thou comest a guest divine:<br/>
+Some high event the conscious gods design.<br/>
+As yet, unbid they never graced our feast,<br/>
+The solemn sacrifice call&rsquo;d down the guest;<br/>
+Then manifest of Heaven the vision stood,<br/>
+And to our eyes familiar was the god.<br/>
+Oft with some favour&rsquo;d traveller they stray,<br/>
+And shine before him all the desert way;<br/>
+With social intercourse, and face to face,<br/>
+The friends and guardians of our pious race.<br/>
+So near approach we their celestial kind,<br/>
+By justice, truth, and probity of mind;<br/>
+As our dire neighbours of Cyclopæan birth<br/>
+Match in fierce wrong the giant-sons of earth.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let no such thought (with modest grace rejoin&rsquo;d<br/>
+The prudent Greek) possess the royal mind.<br/>
+Alas! a mortal, like thyself, am I;<br/>
+No glorious native of yon azure sky:<br/>
+In form, ah how unlike their heavenly kind!<br/>
+How more inferior in the gifts of mind!<br/>
+Alas, a mortal! most oppress&rsquo;d of those<br/>
+Whom Fate has loaded with a weight of woes;<br/>
+By a sad train of Miseries alone<br/>
+Distinguish&rsquo;d long, and second now to none!<br/>
+By Heaven&rsquo;s high will compell&rsquo;d from shore to shore;<br/>
+With Heaven&rsquo;s high will prepared to suffer more.<br/>
+What histories of toil could I declare!<br/>
+But still long-wearied nature wants repair;<br/>
+Spent with fatigue, and shrunk with pining fast,<br/>
+My craving bowels still require repast.<br/>
+Howe&rsquo;er the noble, suffering mind may grieve<br/>
+Its load of anguish, and disdain to live,<br/>
+Necessity demands our daily bread;<br/>
+Hunger is insolent, and will be fed.<br/>
+But finish, oh ye peers! what you propose,<br/>
+And let the morrow&rsquo;s dawn conclude my woes.<br/>
+Pleased will I suffer all the gods ordain,<br/>
+To see my soil, my son, my friends again.<br/>
+That view vouchsafed, let instant death surprise<br/>
+With ever-during shade these happy eyes!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The assembled peers with general praise approved<br/>
+His pleaded reason, and the suit he moved.<br/>
+Each drinks a full oblivion of his cares,<br/>
+And to the gifts of balmy sleep repairs,<br/>
+Ulysses in the regal walls alone<br/>
+Remain&rsquo;d: beside him, on a splendid throne,<br/>
+Divine Arete and Alcinous shone.<br/>
+The queen, on nearer view, the guest survey&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Rob&rsquo;d in the garments her own hands had made,<br/>
+Not without wonder seen. Then thus began,<br/>
+Her words addressing to the godlike man:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Camest thou hither, wondrous stranger! say,<br/>
+From lands remote and o&rsquo;er a length of sea?<br/>
+Tell, then, whence art thou? whence, that princely air?<br/>
+And robes like these, so recent and so fair?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hard is the task, O princess! you impose<br/>
+(Thus sighing spoke the man of many woes),<br/>
+The long, the mournful series to relate<br/>
+Of all my sorrows sent by Heaven and Fate!<br/>
+Yet what you ask, attend. An island lies<br/>
+Beyond these tracts, and under other skies,<br/>
+Ogygia named, in Ocean&rsquo;s watery arms;<br/>
+Where dwells Calypso, dreadful in her charms!<br/>
+Remote from gods or men she holds her reign,<br/>
+Amid the terrors of a rolling main.<br/>
+Me, only me, the hand of fortune bore,<br/>
+Unblest! to tread that interdicted shore:<br/>
+When Jove tremendous in the sable deeps<br/>
+Launch&rsquo;d his red lightning at our scattered ships;<br/>
+Then, all my fleet and all my followers lost.<br/>
+Sole on a plank on boiling surges toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Heaven drove my wreck the Ogygian Isle to find,<br/>
+Full nine days floating to the wave and wind.<br/>
+Met by the goddess there with open arms,<br/>
+She bribed my stay with more than human charms;<br/>
+Nay, promised, vainly promised, to bestow<br/>
+Immortal life, exempt from age and woe;<br/>
+But all her blandishments successless prove,<br/>
+To banish from my breast my country&rsquo;s love.<br/>
+I stay reluctant seven continued years,<br/>
+And water her ambrosial couch with tears,<br/>
+The eighth she voluntary moves to part,<br/>
+Or urged by Jove, or her own changeful heart.<br/>
+A raft was formed to cross the surging sea;<br/>
+Herself supplied the stores and rich array,<br/>
+And gave the gales to waft me on my way,<br/>
+In seventeen days appear&rsquo;d your pleasing coast,<br/>
+And woody mountains half in vapours lost.<br/>
+Joy touched my soul; my soul was joy&rsquo;d in vain,<br/>
+For angry Neptune roused the raging main;<br/>
+The wild winds whistle, and the billows roar;<br/>
+The splitting raft the furious tempest tore;<br/>
+And storms vindictive intercept the shore.<br/>
+Soon as their rage subsides, the seas I brave<br/>
+With naked force, and shoot along the wave,<br/>
+To reach this isle; but there my hopes were lost,<br/>
+The surge impell&rsquo;d me on a craggy coast.<br/>
+I chose the safer sea, and chanced to find<br/>
+A river&rsquo;s mouth impervious to the wind,<br/>
+And clear of rocks. I fainted by the flood;<br/>
+Then took the shelter of the neighbouring wood.<br/>
+&rsquo;Twas night, and, covered in the foliage deep,<br/>
+Jove plunged my senses in the death of sleep.<br/>
+All night I slept, oblivious of my pain:<br/>
+Aurora dawned and Phœbus shined in vain,<br/>
+Nor, till oblique he sloped his evening ray,<br/>
+Had Somnus dried the balmy dews away.<br/>
+Then female voices from the shore I heard:<br/>
+A maid amidst them, goddess-like appear&rsquo;d;<br/>
+To her I sued, she pitied my distress;<br/>
+Like thee in beauty, nor in virtue less.<br/>
+Who from such youth could hope considerate care?<br/>
+In youth and beauty wisdom is but rare!<br/>
+She gave me life, relieved with just supplies<br/>
+My wants, and lent these robes that strike your eyes.<br/>
+This is the truth: and oh, ye powers on high!<br/>
+Forbid that want should sink me to a lie.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To this the king: &ldquo;Our daughter but express&rsquo;d<br/>
+Her cares imperfect to our godlike guest.<br/>
+Suppliant to her, since first he chose to pray,<br/>
+Why not herself did she conduct the way,<br/>
+And with her handmaids to our court convey?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hero and king (Ulysses thus replied)<br/>
+Nor blame her faultless nor suspect of pride:<br/>
+She bade me follow in the attendant train;<br/>
+But fear and reverence did my steps detain,<br/>
+Lest rash suspicion might alarm thy mind:<br/>
+Man&rsquo;s of a jealous and mistaken kind.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Far from my soul (he cried) the gods efface<br/>
+All wrath ill-grounded, and suspicion base!<br/>
+Whate&rsquo;er is honest, stranger, I approve,<br/>
+And would to Phœbus, Pallas, and to Jove,<br/>
+Such as thou art, thy thought and mine were one,<br/>
+Nor thou unwilling to be called my son.<br/>
+In such alliance couldst thou wish to join,<br/>
+A palace stored with treasures should be thine.<br/>
+But if reluctant, who shall force thy stay?<br/>
+Jove bids to set the stranger on his way,<br/>
+And ships shall wait thee with the morning ray.<br/>
+Till then, let slumber cross thy careful eyes:<br/>
+The wakeful mariners shall watch the skies,<br/>
+And seize the moment when the breezes rise:<br/>
+Then gently waft thee to the pleasing shore,<br/>
+Where thy soul rests, and labour is no more.<br/>
+Far as Euboea though thy country lay,<br/>
+Our ships with ease transport thee in a day.<br/>
+Thither of old, earth&rsquo;s giant son to view,<br/>
+On wings of wind with Rhadamanth they flew;<br/>
+This land, from whence their morning course begun,<br/>
+Saw them returning with the setting sun.<br/>
+Your eyes shall witness and confirm my tale,<br/>
+Our youth how dexterous, and how fleet our sail,<br/>
+When justly timed with equal sweep they row,<br/>
+And ocean whitens in long tracks below.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus he. No word the experienced man replies,<br/>
+But thus to heaven (and heavenward lifts his eyes):<br/>
+&ldquo;O Jove! O father! what the king accords<br/>
+Do thou make perfect! sacred be his words!<br/>
+Wide o&rsquo;er the world Alcinous&rsquo; glory shine!<br/>
+Let fame be his, and ah! my country mine!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meantime Arete, for the hour of rest,<br/>
+Ordains the fleecy couch, and covering vest;<br/>
+Bids her fair train the purple quilts prepare,<br/>
+And the thick carpets spread with busy care.<br/>
+With torches blazing in their hands they pass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And finish&rsquo;d all their queen&rsquo;s command with haste:<br/>
+Then gave the signal to the willing guest:<br/>
+He rose with pleasure, and retired to rest.<br/>
+There, soft extended, to the murmuring sound<br/>
+Of the high porch, Ulysses sleeps profound!<br/>
+Within, released from cares, Alcinous lies;<br/>
+And fast beside were closed Arete&rsquo;s eyes.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap08"></a>BOOK VIII.</h2>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Alcinous calls a council, in which it is resolved to transport Ulysses into his
+country. After which splendid entertainments are made, where the celebrated
+musician and poet, Demodocus, plays and sings to the guests. They next proceed
+to the games, the race, the wrestling, discus, &amp;c., where Ulysses casts a
+prodigious length, to the admiration of all the spectators. They return again
+to the banquet and Demodocus sings the loves of Mars and Venus. Ulysses, after
+a compliment to the poet, desires him to sing the introduction of the wooden
+horse into Troy, which subject provoking his tears, Alcinous inquires of his
+guest his name, parentage, and fortunes.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Now fair Aurora lifts her golden ray,<br/>
+And all the ruddy orient flames with day:<br/>
+Alcinous, and the chief, with dawning light,<br/>
+Rose instant from the slumbers of the night;<br/>
+Then to the council-seat they bend their way,<br/>
+And fill the shining thrones along the bay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile Minerva, in her guardian care,<br/>
+Shoots from the starry vault through fields of air;<br/>
+In form, a herald of the king, she flies<br/>
+From peer to peer, and thus incessant cries;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nobles and chiefs who rule Phæacia&rsquo;s states,<br/>
+The king in council your attendance waits;<br/>
+A prince of grace divine your aid implores,<br/>
+O&rsquo;er unknown seas arrived from unknown shores.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She spoke, and sudden with tumultuous sounds<br/>
+Of thronging multitudes the shore rebounds:<br/>
+At once the seats they fill; and every eye<br/>
+Glazed, as before some brother of the sky.<br/>
+Pallas with grace divine his form improves,<br/>
+More high he treads, and more enlarged he moves:<br/>
+She sheds celestial bloom, regard to draw;<br/>
+And gives a dignity of mien, to awe;<br/>
+With strength, the future prize of fame to play,<br/>
+And gather all the honours of the day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then from his glittering throne Alcinous rose;<br/>
+&ldquo;Attend (he cried) while we our will disclose.<br/>
+Your present aid this godlike stranger craves,<br/>
+Toss&rsquo;d by rude tempest through a war of waves;<br/>
+Perhaps from realms that view the rising day,<br/>
+Or nations subject to the western ray.<br/>
+Then grant, what here all sons of woe obtain<br/>
+(For here affliction never pleads in vain);<br/>
+Be chosen youth prepared, expert to try<br/>
+The vast profound and bid the vessel fly;<br/>
+Launch the tall back, and order every oar;<br/>
+Then in our court indulge the genial hour.<br/>
+Instant, you sailors to this task attend;<br/>
+Swift to the palace, all ye peers ascend;<br/>
+Let none to strangers honours due disclaim:<br/>
+Be there Demodocus the bard of fame,<br/>
+Taught by the gods to please, when high he sings<br/>
+The vocal lay, responsive to the strings.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus spoke the prince; the attending peers obey;<br/>
+In state they move; Alcinous heads the way<br/>
+Swift to Demodocus the herald flies,<br/>
+At once the sailors to their charge arise;<br/>
+They launch the vessel, and unfurl the sails,<br/>
+And stretch the swelling canvas to the gales;<br/>
+Then to the palace move: a gathering throng,<br/>
+Youth, and white age, tumultuous pour along.<br/>
+Now all accesses to the dome are fill&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Eight boars, the choicest of the herd, are kill&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Two beeves, twelve fatlings, from the flock they bring<br/>
+To crown the feast; so wills the bounteous king.<br/>
+The herald now arrives, and guides along<br/>
+The sacred master of celestial song;<br/>
+Dear to the Muse! who gave his days to flow<br/>
+With mighty blessings, mix&rsquo;d with mighty woe;<br/>
+With clouds of darkness quench&rsquo;d his visual ray,<br/>
+But gave him skill to raise the lofty lay.<br/>
+High on a radiant throne sublime in state,<br/>
+Encircled by huge multitudes, he sate;<br/>
+With silver shone the throne; his lyre, well strung<br/>
+To rapturous sounds, at hand Poutonous hung.<br/>
+Before his seat a polish&rsquo;d table shines,<br/>
+And a full goblet foams with generous wines;<br/>
+His food a herald bore; and now they fed;<br/>
+And now the rage of craving hunger fled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, fired by all the Muse, aloud he sings<br/>
+The mighty deeds of demigods and kings;<br/>
+From that fierce wrath the noble song arose,<br/>
+That made Ulysses and Achilles foes;<br/>
+How o&rsquo;er the feast they doom the fall of Troy;<br/>
+The stern debate Atrides hears with joy;<br/>
+For Heaven foretold the contest, when he trod<br/>
+The marble threshold of the Delphic god,<br/>
+Curious to learn the counsels of the sky,<br/>
+Ere yet he loosed the rage of war on Troy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Touch&rsquo;d at the song, Ulysses straight resign&rsquo;d<br/>
+To soft affliction all his manly mind.<br/>
+Before his eyes the purple vest he drew,<br/>
+Industrious to conceal the falling dew;<br/>
+But when the music paused, he ceased to shed<br/>
+The flowing tear, and raised his drooping head;<br/>
+And, lifting to the gods a goblet crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+He pour&rsquo;d a pure libation to the ground.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Transported with the song, the listening train<br/>
+Again with loud applause demand the strain;<br/>
+Again Ulysses veil&rsquo;d his pensive head.<br/>
+Again unmann&rsquo;d, a shower of sorrows shed;<br/>
+Conceal&rsquo;d he wept; the king observed alone<br/>
+The silent tear, and heard the secret groan;<br/>
+Then to the bard aloud&mdash;&ldquo;O cease to sing,<br/>
+Dumb be thy voice and mute the harmonious string;<br/>
+Enough the feast has pleased, enough the power<br/>
+Of heavenly song has crown&rsquo;d the genial hour!<br/>
+Incessant in the games your strength display,<br/>
+Contest, ye brave the honours of the day!<br/>
+That pleased the admiring stranger may proclaim<br/>
+In distant regions the Phæacian fame:<br/>
+None wield the gauntlet with so dire a sway,<br/>
+Or swifter in the race devour the way;<br/>
+None in the leap spring with so strong a bound,<br/>
+Or firmer, in the wrestling, press the ground.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus spoke the king; the attending peers obey;<br/>
+In state they move, Alcinous lends the way;<br/>
+His golden lyre Demodocus unstrung,<br/>
+High on a column in the palace hung;<br/>
+And guided by a herald&rsquo;s guardian cares,<br/>
+Majestic to the lists of Fame repairs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now swarms the populace: a countless throng,<br/>
+Youth and hoar age; and man drives man along.<br/>
+The games begin; ambitious of the prize,<br/>
+Acroneus, Thoon, and Eretmeus rise;<br/>
+The prize Ocyalus and Prymneus claim,<br/>
+Anchialus and Ponteus, chiefs of fame.<br/>
+There Proreus, Nautes, Eratreus, appear<br/>
+And famed Amphialus, Polyneus&rsquo; heir;<br/>
+Euryalus, like Mars terrific, rose,<br/>
+When clad in wrath he withers hosts of foes;<br/>
+Naubolides with grace unequall&rsquo;d shone,<br/>
+Or equall&rsquo;d by Laodamas alone.<br/>
+With these came forth Ambasineus the strong:<br/>
+And three brave sons, from great Alcinous sprung.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ranged in a line the ready racers stand,<br/>
+Start from the goal, and vanish o&rsquo;er the strand:<br/>
+Swift as on wings of winds, upborne they fly,<br/>
+And drifts of rising dust involve the sky.<br/>
+Before the rest, what space the hinds allow<br/>
+Between the mule and ox, from plough to plough,<br/>
+Clytonius sprung: he wing&rsquo;d the rapid way,<br/>
+And bore the unrivall&rsquo;d honours of the day.<br/>
+With fierce embrace the brawny wrestlers join;<br/>
+The conquest, great Euryalus, is thine.<br/>
+Amphialus sprung forward with a bound,<br/>
+Superior in the leap, a length of ground.<br/>
+From Elatreus&rsquo; strong arm the discus flies,<br/>
+And sings with unmatch&rsquo;d force along the skies.<br/>
+And Laodam whirls high, with dreadful sway,<br/>
+The gloves of death, victorious in the fray.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While thus the peerage in the games contends,<br/>
+In act to speak, Laodamas ascends.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O friends (he cries), the stranger seems well skill&rsquo;d<br/>
+To try the illustrious labours of the field:<br/>
+I deem him brave: then grant the brave man&rsquo;s claim,<br/>
+Invite the hero to his share of fame.<br/>
+What nervous arms he boasts! how firm his tread!<br/>
+His limbs how turn&rsquo;d! how broad his shoulders spread!<br/>
+By age unbroke!&mdash;but all-consuming care<br/>
+Destroys perhaps the strength that time would spare:<br/>
+Dire is the ocean, dread in all its forms!<br/>
+Man must decay when man contends with storms.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well hast thou spoke (Euryalus replies):<br/>
+Thine is the guest, invite him thou to rise.&rdquo;<br/>
+Swift as the word, advancing from the crowd,<br/>
+He made obeisance, and thus spoke aloud:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Vouchsafes the reverend stranger to display<br/>
+His manly worth, and share the glorious day?<br/>
+Father, arise! for thee thy port proclaims<br/>
+Expert to conquer in the solemn games.<br/>
+To fame arise! for what more fame can yield<br/>
+Than the swift race, or conflict of the field?<br/>
+Steal from corroding care one transient day,<br/>
+To glory give the space thou hast to stay;<br/>
+Short is the time, and lo! e&rsquo;en now the gales<br/>
+Call thee aboard, and stretch the swelling sails.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom with sighs Ulysses gave reply:<br/>
+&ldquo;Ah why the ill-suiting pastime must I try?<br/>
+To gloomy care my thoughts alone are free;<br/>
+Ill the gay sports with troubled hearts agree;<br/>
+Sad from my natal hour my days have ran,<br/>
+A much-afflicted, much-enduring man!<br/>
+Who, suppliant to the king and peers, implores<br/>
+A speedy voyage to his native shore.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wide wanders, Laodam, thy erring tongue<br/>
+The sports of glory to the brave belong<br/>
+(Retorts Euryalus): he bears no claim<br/>
+Among the great, unlike the sons of Fame.<br/>
+A wandering merchant he frequents the main<br/>
+Some mean seafarer in pursuit of gain;<br/>
+Studious of freight, in naval trade well skill&rsquo;d,<br/>
+But dreads the athletic labours of the field.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Incensed, Ulysses with a frown replies:<br/>
+&ldquo;O forward to proclaim thy soul unwise!<br/>
+With partial hands the gods their gifts dispense;<br/>
+Some greatly think, some speak with manly sense;<br/>
+Here Heaven an elegance of form denies,<br/>
+But wisdom the defect of form supplies;<br/>
+This man with energy of thought controls,<br/>
+And steals with modest violence our souls;<br/>
+He speaks reservedly, but he speaks with force,<br/>
+Nor can one word be changed but for a worse;<br/>
+In public more than mortal he appears,<br/>
+And as he moves, the praising crowd reveres;<br/>
+While others, beauteous as the etherial kind,<br/>
+The nobler portion went, a knowing mind,<br/>
+In outward show Heaven gives thee to excel.<br/>
+But Heaven denies the praise of thinking well<br/>
+I&rsquo;ll bear the brave a rude ungovern&rsquo;d tongue,<br/>
+And, youth, my generous soul resents the wrong.<br/>
+Skill&rsquo;d in heroic exercise, I claim<br/>
+A post of honour with the sons of Fame.<br/>
+Such was my boast while vigour crown&rsquo;d my days,<br/>
+Now care surrounds me, and my force decays;<br/>
+Inured a melancholy part to bear<br/>
+In scenes of death, by tempest and by war<br/>
+Yet thus by woes impair&rsquo;d, no more I waive<br/>
+To prove the hero&mdash;slander stings the brave.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then gliding forward with a furious bound<br/>
+He wrench&rsquo;d a rocky fragment from the ground<br/>
+By far more ponderous, and more huge by far<br/>
+Than what Phæacia&rsquo;s sons discharged in air.<br/>
+Fierce from his arm the enormous load he flings;<br/>
+Sonorous through the shaded air it sings;<br/>
+Couch&rsquo;d to the earth, tempestuous as it flies,<br/>
+The crowd gaze upward while it cleaves the skies.<br/>
+Beyond all marks, with many a giddy round<br/>
+Down-rushing, it up-turns a hill of ground.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That Instant Pallas, bursting from a cloud,<br/>
+Fix&rsquo;d a distinguish&rsquo;d mark, and cried aloud:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;E&rsquo;en he who, sightless, wants his visual ray<br/>
+May by his touch alone award the day:<br/>
+Thy signal throw transcends the utmost bound<br/>
+Of every champion by a length of ground:<br/>
+Securely bid the strongest of the train<br/>
+Arise to throw; the strongest throws in vain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She spoke: and momentary mounts the sky:<br/>
+The friendly voice Ulysses hears with joy.<br/>
+Then thus aloud (elate with decent pride)<br/>
+&ldquo;Rise, ye Phæacians, try your force (he cried):<br/>
+If with this throw the strongest caster vie,<br/>
+Still, further still, I bid the discus fly.<br/>
+Stand forth, ye champions, who the gauntlet wield,<br/>
+Or ye, the swiftest racers of the field!<br/>
+Stand forth, ye wrestlers, who these pastimes grace!<br/>
+I wield the gauntlet, and I run the race.<br/>
+In such heroic games I yield to none,<br/>
+Or yield to brave Laodamas alone:<br/>
+Shall I with brave Laodamas contend?<br/>
+A friend is sacred, and I style him friend.<br/>
+Ungenerous were the man, and base of heart,<br/>
+Who takes the kind, and pays the ungrateful part:<br/>
+Chiefly the man, in foreign realms confined,<br/>
+Base to his friend, to his own interest blind:<br/>
+All, all your heroes I this day defy;<br/>
+Give me a man that we our might may try.<br/>
+Expert in every art, I boast the skill<br/>
+To give the feather&rsquo;d arrow wings to kill;<br/>
+Should a whole host at once discharge the bow,<br/>
+My well-aim&rsquo;d shaft with death prevents the foe:<br/>
+Alone superior in the field of Troy,<br/>
+Great Philoctetes taught the shaft to fly.<br/>
+From all the sons of earth unrivall&rsquo;d praise<br/>
+I justly claim; but yield to better days,<br/>
+To those famed days when great Alcides rose,<br/>
+And Eurytus, who bade the gods be foes<br/>
+(Vain Eurytus, whose art became his crime,<br/>
+Swept from the earth, he perish&rsquo;d in his prime:<br/>
+Sudden the irremeable way he trod,<br/>
+Who boldly durst defy the bowyer god).<br/>
+In fighting fields as far the spear I throw<br/>
+As flies an arrow from the well-drawn bow.<br/>
+Sole in the race the contest I decline,<br/>
+Stiff are my weary joints, and I resign;<br/>
+By storms and hunger worn; age well may fail,<br/>
+When storms and hunger doth at once assail.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Abash&rsquo;d, the numbers hear the godlike man,<br/>
+Till great Alcinous mildly thus began:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well hast thou spoke, and well thy generous tongue<br/>
+With decent pride refutes a public wrong:<br/>
+Warm are thy words, but warm without offence;<br/>
+Fear only fools, secure in men of sense;<br/>
+Thy worth is known. Then hear our country&rsquo;s claim,<br/>
+And bear to heroes our heroic fame:<br/>
+In distant realms our glorious deeds display,<br/>
+Repeat them frequent in the genial day;<br/>
+When, blest with ease, thy woes and wanderings end,<br/>
+Teach them thy consort, bid thy sons attend;<br/>
+How, loved of Jove, he crown&rsquo;d our sires with praise,<br/>
+How we their offspring dignify our race.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let other realms the deathful gauntlet wield,<br/>
+Or boast the glories of the athletic field:<br/>
+We in the course unrivall&rsquo;d speed display,<br/>
+Or through cerulean billows plough the way;<br/>
+To dress, to dance, to sing, our sole delight,<br/>
+The feast or bath by day, and love by night:<br/>
+Rise, then, ye skill&rsquo;d in measures; let him bear<br/>
+Your fame to men that breathe a distant air;<br/>
+And faithful say, to you the powers belong<br/>
+To race, to sail, to dance, to chant the song.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, herald, to the palace swift repair,<br/>
+And the soft lyre to grace our pastimes bear.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Swift at the word, obedient to the king,<br/>
+The herald flies the tuneful lyre to bring.<br/>
+Up rose nine seniors, chosen to survey<br/>
+The future games, the judges of the day<br/>
+With instant care they mark a spacious round<br/>
+And level for the dance the allotted ground:<br/>
+The herald bears the lyre: intent to play,<br/>
+The bard advancing meditates the lay.<br/>
+Skill&rsquo;d in the dance, tall youths, a blooming band,<br/>
+Graceful before the heavenly minstrel stand:<br/>
+Light bounding from the earth, at once they rise,<br/>
+Their feet half-viewless quiver in the skies:<br/>
+Ulysses gazed, astonish&rsquo;d to survey<br/>
+The glancing splendours as their sandals play.<br/>
+Meantime the bard, alternate to the strings,<br/>
+The loves of Mars and Cytherea sings:<br/>
+How the stern god, enamour&rsquo;d with her charms<br/>
+Clasp&rsquo;d the gay panting goddess in his arms,<br/>
+By bribes seduced; and how the sun, whose eye<br/>
+Views the broad heavens, disclosed the lawless joy.<br/>
+Stung to the soul, indignant through the skies<br/>
+To his black forge vindictive Vulcan flies:<br/>
+Arrived, his sinewy arms incessant place<br/>
+The eternal anvil on the massy base.<br/>
+A wondrous net he labours, to betray<br/>
+The wanton lovers, as entwined they lay,<br/>
+Indissolubly strong; Then instant bears<br/>
+To his immortal dome the finish&rsquo;d snares:<br/>
+Above, below, around, with art dispread,<br/>
+The sure inclosure folds the genial bed:<br/>
+Whose texture even the search of gods deceives,<br/>
+Thin as the filmy threads the spider weaves,<br/>
+Then, as withdrawing from the starry bowers,<br/>
+He feigns a journey to the Lemnian shores,<br/>
+His favourite isle: observant Mars descries<br/>
+His wish&rsquo;d recess, and to the goddess flies;<br/>
+He glows, he burns, the fair-hair&rsquo;d queen of love<br/>
+Descends, smooth gliding from the courts of Jove,<br/>
+Gay blooming in full charms: her hand he press&rsquo;d<br/>
+With eager joy, and with a sigh address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, my beloved! and taste the soft delights:<br/>
+Come, to repose the genial bed invites:<br/>
+Thy absent spouse, neglectful of thy charms,<br/>
+Prefers his barbarous Sintians to thy arms!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, nothing loth, the enamour&rsquo;d fair he led,<br/>
+And sunk transported on the conscious bed.<br/>
+Down rush&rsquo;d the toils, inwrapping as they lay<br/>
+The careless lovers in their wanton play:<br/>
+In vain they strive; the entangling snares deny<br/>
+(Inextricably firm) the power to fly.<br/>
+Warn&rsquo;d by the god who sheds the golden day,<br/>
+Stern Vulcan homeward treads the starry way:<br/>
+Arrived, he sees, he grieves, with rage he burns:<br/>
+Full horribly he roars, his voice all heaven returns.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O Jove (he cried) O all ye powers above,<br/>
+See the lewd dalliance of the queen of love!<br/>
+Me, awkward me, she scorns; and yields her charms<br/>
+To that fair lecher, the strong god of arms.<br/>
+If I am lame, that stain my natal hour<br/>
+By fate imposed; such me my parent bore.<br/>
+Why was I born? See how the wanton lies!<br/>
+Oh sight tormenting to a husband&rsquo;s eyes!<br/>
+But yet, I trust, this once e&rsquo;en Mars would fly<br/>
+His fair-one&rsquo;s arms&mdash;he thinks her, once, too nigh.<br/>
+But there remain, ye guilty, in my power,<br/>
+Till Jove refunds his shameless daughter&rsquo;s dower.<br/>
+Too dear I prized a fair enchanting face:<br/>
+Beauty unchaste is beauty in disgrace.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile the gods the dome of Vulcan throng;<br/>
+Apollo comes, and Neptune comes along;<br/>
+With these gay Hermes trod the starry plain;<br/>
+But modesty withheld the goddess train.<br/>
+All heaven beholds, imprison&rsquo;d as they lie,<br/>
+And unextinguish&rsquo;d laughter shakes the sky.<br/>
+Then mutual, thus they spoke: &ldquo;Behold on wrong<br/>
+Swift vengeance waits; and art subdues the strong!<br/>
+Dwells there a god on all the Olympian brow<br/>
+More swift than Mars, and more than Vulcan slow?<br/>
+Yet Vulcan conquers, and the god of arms<br/>
+Must pay the penalty for lawless charms.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus serious they; but he who gilds the skies,<br/>
+The gay Apollo, thus to Hermes cries:<br/>
+&ldquo;Wouldst thou enchain&rsquo;d like Mars, O Hermes, lie<br/>
+And bear the shame like Mars to share the joy?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O envied shame! (the smiling youth rejoin&rsquo;d;)<br/>
+And thrice the chains, and thrice more firmly bind;<br/>
+Gaze all ye gods, and every goddess gaze,<br/>
+Yet eager would I bless the sweet disgrace.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Loud laugh the rest, e&rsquo;en Neptune laughs aloud,<br/>
+Yet sues importunate to loose the god.<br/>
+&ldquo;And free, (he cries) O Vulcan! free from shame<br/>
+Thy captives; I ensure the penal claim.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Will Neptune (Vulcan then) the faithless trust?<br/>
+He suffers who gives surety for the unjust:<br/>
+But say, if that lewd scandal of the sky,<br/>
+To liberty restored, perfidious fly:<br/>
+Say, wilt thou bear the mulct?&rdquo; He instant cries,<br/>
+&ldquo;The mulct I bear, if Mars perfidious flies.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom appeased: &ldquo;No more I urge delay;<br/>
+When Neptune sues, my part is to obey.&rdquo;<br/>
+Then to the snares his force the god applies;<br/>
+They burst; and Mars to Thrace indignant flies:<br/>
+To the soft Cyprian shores the goddess moves,<br/>
+To visit Paphos and her blooming groves,<br/>
+Where to the Power an hundred altars rise,<br/>
+And breathing odours scent the balmy skies;<br/>
+Concealed she bathes in consecrated bowers,<br/>
+The Graces unguents shed, ambrosial showers,<br/>
+Unguents that charm the gods! she last assumes<br/>
+Her wondrous robes; and full the goddess blooms.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus sung the bard: Ulysses hears with joy,<br/>
+And loud applauses read the vaulted sky.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then to the sports his sons the king commands,<br/>
+Each blooming youth before the monarch stands,<br/>
+In dance unmatch&rsquo;d! A wondrous ball is brought<br/>
+(The work of Polypus, divinely wrought);<br/>
+This youth with strength enormous bids it fly,<br/>
+And bending backward whirls it to the sky;<br/>
+His brother, springing with an active bound,<br/>
+At distance intercepts it from the ground.<br/>
+The ball dismissed, in dance they skim the strand,<br/>
+Turn and return, and scarce imprint the sand.<br/>
+The assembly gazes with astonished eyes,<br/>
+And sends in shouts applauses to the skies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then thus Ulysses: &ldquo;Happy king, whose name<br/>
+The brightest shines in all the rolls of fame!<br/>
+In subjects happy with surprise I gaze;<br/>
+Thy praise was just; their skill transcends thy praise.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pleas&rsquo;d with his people&rsquo;s fame, the monarch hears,<br/>
+And thus benevolent accosts the peers:<br/>
+&ldquo;Since wisdom&rsquo;s sacred guidance he pursues,<br/>
+Give to the stranger-guest a stranger&rsquo;s dues:<br/>
+Twelve princes in our realm dominion share,<br/>
+O&rsquo;er whom supreme, imperial power I bear;<br/>
+Bring gold, a pledge of love: a talent bring,<br/>
+A vest, a robe, and imitate your king.<br/>
+Be swift to give: that he this night may share<br/>
+The social feast of joy, with joy sincere.<br/>
+And thou, Euryalus, redeem thy wrong;<br/>
+A generous heart repairs a slanderous tongue.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The assenting peers, obedient to the king,<br/>
+In haste their heralds send the gifts to bring.<br/>
+Then thus Euryalus: &ldquo;O prince, whose sway<br/>
+Rules this bless&rsquo;d realm, repentant I obey;<br/>
+Be his this sword, whose blade of brass displays<br/>
+A ruddy gleam; whose hilt a silver blaze;<br/>
+Whose ivory sheath, inwrought with curious pride,<br/>
+Adds graceful terror to the wearer&rsquo;s side.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said, and to his hand the sword consign&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;And if (he cried) my words affect thy mind,<br/>
+Far from thy mind those words, ye whirlwinds, bear,<br/>
+And scatter them, ye storms, in empty air!<br/>
+Crown, O ye heavens, with joy his peaceful hours,<br/>
+And grant him to his spouse, and native shores.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And blest be thou, my friend, (Ulysses cries,)<br/>
+Crown him with every joy, ye favouring skies<br/>
+To thy calm hours continued peace afford,<br/>
+And never, never mayst thou want this sword,&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said, and o&rsquo;er his shoulder flung the blade.<br/>
+Now o&rsquo;er the earth ascends the evening shade:<br/>
+The precious gifts the illustrious heralds bear,<br/>
+And to the court the embodied peers repair.<br/>
+Before the queen Alcinous&rsquo; sons unfold<br/>
+The vests, the robes, and heaps of shining gold;<br/>
+Then to the radiant thrones they move in state:<br/>
+Aloft, the king in pomp imperial sate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thence to the queen: &ldquo;O partner of our reign,<br/>
+O sole beloved! command thy menial train<br/>
+A polish&rsquo;d chest and stately robes to bear,<br/>
+And healing waters for the bath prepare;<br/>
+That, bathed, our guest may bid his sorrows cease,<br/>
+Hear the sweet song, and taste the feast in peace.<br/>
+A bowl that flames with gold, of wondrous frame,<br/>
+Ourself we give, memorial of our name;<br/>
+To raise in offerings to almighty Jove,<br/>
+And every god that treads the courts above.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Instant the queen, observant of the king,<br/>
+Commands her train a spacious vase to bring,<br/>
+The spacious vase with ample streams suffice,<br/>
+Heap the high wood, and bid the flames arise.<br/>
+The flames climb round it with a fierce embrace,<br/>
+The fuming waters bubble o&rsquo;er the blaze.<br/>
+Herself the chest prepares; in order roll&rsquo;d<br/>
+The robes, the vests are ranged, and heaps of gold<br/>
+And adding a rich dress inwrought with art,<br/>
+A gift expressive of her bounteous heart.<br/>
+Thus spoke to Ithacus: &ldquo;To guard with bands<br/>
+Insolvable these gifts, thy care demands;<br/>
+Lest, in thy slumbers on the watery main,<br/>
+The hand of rapine make our bounty vain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then bending with full force around he roll&rsquo;d<br/>
+A labyrinth of bands in fold on fold,<br/>
+Closed with Circaean art. A train attends<br/>
+Around the bath: the bath the king ascends<br/>
+(Untasted joy, since that disastrous hour,<br/>
+He sail&rsquo;d ill-fated from Calypso&rsquo;s bower);<br/>
+Where, happy as the gods that range the sky,<br/>
+He feasted every sense with every joy.<br/>
+He bathes; the damsels with officious toil,<br/>
+Shed sweets, shed unguents, in a shower of oil;<br/>
+Then o&rsquo;er his limbs a gorgeous robe he spreads,<br/>
+And to the feast magnificently treads.<br/>
+Full where the dome its shining valves expands,<br/>
+Nausicaa blooming as a goddess stands;<br/>
+With wondering eyes the hero she survey&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And graceful thus began the royal maid:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hail, godlike stranger! and when heaven restores<br/>
+To thy fond wish thy long-expected shores,<br/>
+This ever grateful in remembrance bear:<br/>
+To me thou owest, to me, the vital air.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O royal maid! (Ulysses straight returns)<br/>
+Whose worth the splendours of thy race adorns,<br/>
+So may dread Jove (whose arm in vengeance forms<br/>
+The writhen bolt, and blackens heaven with storms),<br/>
+Restore me safe, through weary wanderings toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+To my dear country&rsquo;s ever-pleasing coast,<br/>
+As while the spirit in this bosom glows,<br/>
+To thee, my goddess, I address my vows;<br/>
+My life, thy gift I boast!&rdquo; He said, and sate<br/>
+Fast by Alcinous on a throne of state.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now each partakes the feast, the wine prepares,<br/>
+Portions the food, and each his portion shares.<br/>
+The bard a herald guides; the gazing throng<br/>
+Pay low obeisance as he moves along:<br/>
+Beneath a sculptur&rsquo;d arch he sits enthroned,<br/>
+The peers encircling form an awful round.<br/>
+Then, from the chine, Ulysses carves with art<br/>
+Delicious food, an honorary part:<br/>
+&ldquo;This, let the master of the lyre receive,<br/>
+A pledge of love! &rsquo;tis all a wretch can give.<br/>
+Lives there a man beneath the spacious skies<br/>
+Who sacred honours to the bard denies?<br/>
+The Muse the bard inspires, exalts his mind;<br/>
+The muse indulgent loves the harmonious kind.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The herald to his hand the charge conveys,<br/>
+Not fond of flattery, nor unpleased with praise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When now the rage of hunger was allay&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Thus to the lyrist wise Ulysses said:<br/>
+&ldquo;O more than man! thy soul the muse inspires,<br/>
+Or Phœbus animates with all his fires;<br/>
+For who, by Phœbus uninform&rsquo;d, could know<br/>
+The woe of Greece, and sing so well the woe?<br/>
+Just to the tale, as present at the fray,<br/>
+Or taught the labours of the dreadful day:<br/>
+The song recalls past horrors to my eyes,<br/>
+And bids proud Ilion from her ashes rise.<br/>
+Once more harmonious strike the sounding string,<br/>
+The Epaean fabric, framed by Pallas, sing:<br/>
+How stern Ulysses, furious to destroy,<br/>
+With latent heroes sack&rsquo;d imperial Troy.<br/>
+If faithful thou record the tale of Fame,<br/>
+The god himself inspires thy breast with flame<br/>
+And mine shall be the task henceforth to raise<br/>
+In every land thy monument of praise.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Full of the god he raised his lofty strain:<br/>
+How the Greeks rush&rsquo;d tumultuous to the main;<br/>
+How blazing tents illumined half the skies,<br/>
+While from the shores the winged navy flies;<br/>
+How e&rsquo;en in Ilion&rsquo;s walls, in deathful bands,<br/>
+Came the stern Greeks by Troy&rsquo;s assisting hands:<br/>
+All Troy up-heaved the steed; of differing mind,<br/>
+Various the Trojans counsell&rsquo;d: part consign&rsquo;d<br/>
+The monster to the sword, part sentence gave<br/>
+To plunge it headlong in the whelming wave;<br/>
+The unwise award to lodge it in the towers,<br/>
+An offering sacred to the immortal powers:<br/>
+The unwise prevail, they lodge it in the walls,<br/>
+And by the gods&rsquo; decree proud Ilion falls:<br/>
+Destruction enters in the treacherous wood,<br/>
+And vengeful slaughter, fierce for human blood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sung the Greeks stern-issuing from the steed,<br/>
+How Ilion burns, how all her fathers bleed;<br/>
+How to thy dome, Deiphobus! ascends<br/>
+The Spartan king; how Ithacus attends<br/>
+(Horrid as Mars); and how with dire alarms<br/>
+He fights&mdash;subdues, for Pallas strings his arms
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus while he sung, Ulysses&rsquo; griefs renew,<br/>
+Tears bathe his cheeks, and tears the ground bedew<br/>
+As some fond matron views in mortal fight<br/>
+Her husband falling in his country&rsquo;s right;<br/>
+Frantic through clashing swords she runs, she flies,<br/>
+As ghastly pale he groans, and faints and dies;<br/>
+Close to his breast she grovels on the ground,<br/>
+And bathes with floods of tears the gaping wound;<br/>
+She cries, she shrieks: the fierce insulting foe<br/>
+Relentless mocks her violence of woe:<br/>
+To chains condemn&rsquo;d, as wildly she deplores;<br/>
+A widow, and a slave on foreign shores.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So from the sluices of Ulysses&rsquo; eyes<br/>
+Fast fell the tears, and sighs succeeded sighs:<br/>
+Conceal&rsquo;d he grieved: the king observed alone<br/>
+The silent tear, and heard the secret groan;<br/>
+Then to the bard aloud: &ldquo;O cease to sing,<br/>
+Dumb be thy voice, and mute the tuneful string;<br/>
+To every note his tears responsive flow,<br/>
+And his great heart heaves with tumultuous woe;<br/>
+Thy lay too deeply moves: then cease the lay,<br/>
+And o&rsquo;er the banquet every heart be gay:<br/>
+This social right demands: for him the sails,<br/>
+Floating in air, invite the impelling gales:<br/>
+His are the gifts of love: the wise and good<br/>
+Receive the stranger as a brother&rsquo;s blood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, friend, discover faithful what I crave;<br/>
+Artful concealment ill becomes the brave:<br/>
+Say what thy birth, and what the name you bore,<br/>
+Imposed by parents in the natal hour?<br/>
+(For from the natal hour distinctive names,<br/>
+One common right, the great and lowly claims:)<br/>
+Say from what city, from what regions toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And what inhabitants those regions boast?<br/>
+So shalt thou instant reach the realm assign&rsquo;d,<br/>
+In wondrous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind;<br/>
+No helm secures their course, no pilot guides;<br/>
+Like man intelligent, they plough the tides,<br/>
+Conscious of every coast, and every bay,<br/>
+That lies beneath the sun&rsquo;s all-seeing ray;<br/>
+Though clouds and darkness veil the encumber&rsquo;d sky,<br/>
+Fearless through darkness and through clouds they fly;<br/>
+Though tempests rage, though rolls the swelling main,<br/>
+The seas may roll, the tempests rage in vain;<br/>
+E&rsquo;en the stern god that o&rsquo;er the waves presides,<br/>
+Safe as they pass, and safe repass the tides,<br/>
+With fury burns; while careless they convey<br/>
+Promiscuous every guest to every bay,<br/>
+These ears have heard my royal sire disclose<br/>
+A dreadful story, big with future woes;<br/>
+How Neptune raged, and how, by his command,<br/>
+Firm rooted in a surge a ship should stand<br/>
+A monument of wrath; how mound on mound<br/>
+Should bury these proud towers beneath the ground.<br/>
+But this the gods may frustrate or fulfil,<br/>
+As suits the purpose of the Eternal Will.<br/>
+But say through what waste regions hast thou stray&rsquo;d<br/>
+What customs noted, and what coasts survey&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Possess&rsquo;d by wild barbarians fierce in arms,<br/>
+Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?<br/>
+Say why the fate of Troy awaked thy cares,<br/>
+Why heaved thy bosom, and why flowed thy tears?<br/>
+Just are the ways of Heaven: from Heaven proceed<br/>
+The woes of man; Heaven doom&rsquo;d the Greeks to bleed,<br/>
+A theme of future song! Say, then, if slain<br/>
+Some dear-loved brother press&rsquo;d the Phrygian plain?<br/>
+Or bled some friend, who bore a brother&rsquo;s part,<br/>
+And claim&rsquo;d by merit, not by blood, the heart?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap09"></a>BOOK IX.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE ADVENTURES OF THE CICONS, LOTOPHAGI AND CYCLOPS.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Ulysses begins the relation of his adventures: how, after the destruction of
+Troy, he with his companions made an incursion on the Cicons, by whom they were
+repulsed; and, meeting with a storm, were driven to the coast of the Lotophagi.
+From there they sailed to the land of the Cyclops, whose manners and situation
+are particularly characterised. The giant Polyphemus and his cave described;
+the usage Ulysses and his companions met with there; and, lastly, the method
+and artifice by which he escaped.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Then thus Ulysses: &ldquo;Thou whom first in sway,<br/>
+As first in virtue, these thy realms obey;<br/>
+How sweet the products of a peaceful reign!<br/>
+The heaven-taught poet and enchanting strain;<br/>
+The well-filled palace, the perpetual feast,<br/>
+A land rejoicing, and a people bless&rsquo;d!<br/>
+How goodly seems it ever to employ<br/>
+Man&rsquo;s social days in union and in joy;<br/>
+The plenteous hoard high-heap&rsquo;d with cates divine,<br/>
+And o&rsquo;er the foaming bowl the laughing wine!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Amid these joys, why seeks thy mind to know<br/>
+The unhappy series of a wanderer&rsquo;s woe?<br/>
+Rememberance sad, whose image to review,<br/>
+Alas, I must open all my wounds anew!<br/>
+And oh, what first, what last shall I relate,<br/>
+Of woes unnumbered sent by Heaven and Fate?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Know first the man (though now a wretch distress&rsquo;d)<br/>
+Who hopes thee, monarch, for his future guest.<br/>
+Behold Ulysses! no ignoble name,<br/>
+Earth sounds my wisdom and high heaven my fame.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My native soil is Ithaca the fair,<br/>
+Where high Neritus waves his woods in air;<br/>
+Dulichium, Same and Zaccynthus crown&rsquo;d<br/>
+With shady mountains spread their isles around.<br/>
+(These to the north and night&rsquo;s dark regions run,<br/>
+Those to Aurora and the rising sun).<br/>
+Low lies our isle, yet bless&rsquo;d in fruitful stores;<br/>
+Strong are her sons, though rocky are her shores;<br/>
+And none, ah none no lovely to my sight,<br/>
+Of all the lands that heaven o&rsquo;erspreads with light.<br/>
+In vain Calypso long constrained my stay,<br/>
+With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay;<br/>
+With all her charms as vainly Circe strove,<br/>
+And added magic to secure my love.<br/>
+In pomps or joys, the palace or the grot,<br/>
+My country&rsquo;s image never was forgot;<br/>
+My absent parents rose before my sight,<br/>
+And distant lay contentment and delight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hear, then, the woes which mighty Jove ordain&rsquo;d<br/>
+To wait my passage from the Trojan land.<br/>
+The winds from Ilion to the Cicons&rsquo; shore,<br/>
+Beneath cold Ismarus our vessels bore.<br/>
+We boldly landed on the hostile place,<br/>
+And sack&rsquo;d the city, and destroy&rsquo;d the race,<br/>
+Their wives made captive, their possessions shared,<br/>
+And every soldier found a like reward<br/>
+I then advised to fly; not so the rest,<br/>
+Who stay&rsquo;d to revel, and prolong the feast:<br/>
+The fatted sheep and sable bulls they slay,<br/>
+And bowls flow round, and riot wastes the day.<br/>
+Meantime the Cicons, to their holds retired,<br/>
+Call on the Cicons, with new fury fired;<br/>
+With early morn the gather&rsquo;d country swarms,<br/>
+And all the continent is bright with arms;<br/>
+Thick as the budding leaves or rising flowers<br/>
+O&rsquo;erspread the land, when spring descends in showers:<br/>
+All expert soldiers, skill&rsquo;d on foot to dare,<br/>
+Or from the bounding courser urge the war.<br/>
+Now fortune changes (so the Fates ordain);<br/>
+Our hour was come to taste our share of pain.<br/>
+Close at the ships the bloody fight began,<br/>
+Wounded they wound, and man expires on man.<br/>
+Long as the morning sun increasing bright<br/>
+O&rsquo;er heaven&rsquo;s pure azure spreads the glowing light,<br/>
+Promiscuous death the form of war confounds,<br/>
+Each adverse battle gored with equal wounds;<br/>
+But when his evening wheels o&rsquo;erhung the main,<br/>
+Then conquest crown&rsquo;d the fierce Ciconian train.<br/>
+Six brave companions from each ship we lost,<br/>
+The rest escape in haste, and quit the coast,<br/>
+With sails outspread we fly the unequal strife,<br/>
+Sad for their loss, but joyful of our life.<br/>
+Yet as we fled, our fellows&rsquo; rites we paid,<br/>
+And thrice we call&rsquo;d on each unhappy shade,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Meanwhile the god, whose hand the thunder forms,<br/>
+Drives clouds on clouds, and blackens heaven with storms:<br/>
+Wide o&rsquo;er the waste the rage of Boreas sweeps,<br/>
+And night rush&rsquo;d headlong on the shaded deeps.<br/>
+Now here, now there, the giddy ships are borne,<br/>
+And all the rattling shrouds in fragments torn.<br/>
+We furl&rsquo;d the sail, we plied the labouring oar,<br/>
+Took down our masts, and row&rsquo;d our ships to shore.<br/>
+Two tedious days and two long nights we lay,<br/>
+O&rsquo;erwatch&rsquo;d and batter&rsquo;d in the naked bay.<br/>
+But the third morning when Aurora brings,<br/>
+We rear the masts, we spread the canvas wings;<br/>
+Refresh&rsquo;d and careless on the deck reclined,<br/>
+We sit, and trust the pilot and the wind.<br/>
+Then to my native country had I sail&rsquo;d:<br/>
+But, the cape doubled, adverse winds prevail&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Strong was the tide, which by the northern blast<br/>
+Impell&rsquo;d, our vessels on Cythera cast,<br/>
+Nine days our fleet the uncertain tempest bore<br/>
+Far in wide ocean, and from sight of shore:<br/>
+The tenth we touch&rsquo;d, by various errors toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The land of Lotus and the flowery coast.<br/>
+We climb&rsquo;d the beach, and springs of water found,<br/>
+Then spread our hasty banquet on the ground.<br/>
+Three men were sent, deputed from the crew<br/>
+(A herald one) the dubious coast to view,<br/>
+And learn what habitants possess&rsquo;d the place.<br/>
+They went, and found a hospitable race:<br/>
+Not prone to ill, nor strange to foreign guest,<br/>
+They eat, they drink, and nature gives the feast<br/>
+The trees around them all their food produce:<br/>
+Lotus the name: divine, nectareous juice!<br/>
+(Thence call&rsquo;d Lotophagi); which whose tastes,<br/>
+Insatiate riots in the sweet repasts,<br/>
+Nor other home, nor other care intends,<br/>
+But quits his house, his country, and his friends.<br/>
+The three we sent, from off the enchanting ground<br/>
+We dragg&rsquo;d reluctant, and by force we bound.<br/>
+The rest in haste forsook the pleasing shore,<br/>
+Or, the charm tasted, had return&rsquo;d no more.<br/>
+Now placed in order on their banks, they sweep<br/>
+The sea&rsquo;s smooth face, and cleave the hoary deep:<br/>
+With heavy hearts we labour through the tide,<br/>
+To coasts unknown, and oceans yet untried.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The land of Cyclops first, a savage kind,<br/>
+Nor tamed by manners, nor by laws confined:<br/>
+Untaught to plant, to turn the glebe, and sow,<br/>
+They all their products to free nature owe:<br/>
+The soil, untill&rsquo;d, a ready harvest yields,<br/>
+With wheat and barley wave the golden fields;<br/>
+Spontaneous wines from weighty clusters pour,<br/>
+And Jove descends in each prolific shower,<br/>
+By these no statues and no rights are known,<br/>
+No council held, no monarch fills the throne;<br/>
+But high on hills, or airy cliffs, they dwell,<br/>
+Or deep in caves whose entrance leads to hell.<br/>
+Each rules his race, his neighbour not his care,<br/>
+Heedless of others, to his own severe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Opposed to the Cyclopæan coast, there lay<br/>
+An isle, whose hill their subject fields survey;<br/>
+Its name Lachaea, crown&rsquo;d with many a grove,<br/>
+Where savage goats through pathless thickets rove:<br/>
+No needy mortals here, with hunger bold,<br/>
+Or wretched hunters through the wintry cold<br/>
+Pursue their flight; but leave them safe to bound<br/>
+From hill to hill, o&rsquo;er all the desert ground.<br/>
+Nor knows the soil to feed the fleecy care,<br/>
+Or feels the labours of the crooked share;<br/>
+But uninhabited, untill&rsquo;d, unsown,<br/>
+It lies, and breeds the bleating goat alone.<br/>
+For there no vessel with vermilion prore,<br/>
+Or bark of traffic, glides from shore to shore;<br/>
+The rugged race of savages, unskill&rsquo;d<br/>
+The seas to traverse, or the ships to build,<br/>
+Gaze on the coast, nor cultivate the soil,<br/>
+Unlearn&rsquo;d in all the industrious art of toil,<br/>
+Yet here all products and all plants abound,<br/>
+Sprung from the fruitful genius of the ground;<br/>
+Fields waving high with heavy crops are seen,<br/>
+And vines that flourish in eternal green,<br/>
+Refreshing meads along the murmuring main,<br/>
+And fountains streaming down the fruitful plain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A port there is, inclosed on either side,<br/>
+Where ships may rest, unanchor&rsquo;d and untied;<br/>
+Till the glad mariners incline to sail,<br/>
+And the sea whitens with the rising gale,<br/>
+High at the head, from out the cavern&rsquo;d rock,<br/>
+In living rills a gushing fountain broke:<br/>
+Around it, and above, for ever green,<br/>
+The busy alders form&rsquo;d a shady scene;<br/>
+Hither some favouring god, beyond our thought,<br/>
+Through all surrounding shade our navy brought;<br/>
+For gloomy night descended on the main,<br/>
+Nor glimmer&rsquo;d Phoebe in the ethereal plain:<br/>
+But all unseen the clouded island lay,<br/>
+And all unseen the surge and rolling sea,<br/>
+Till safe we anchor&rsquo;d in the shelter&rsquo;d bay:<br/>
+Our sails we gather&rsquo;d, cast our cables o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+And slept secure along the sandy shore.<br/>
+Soon as again the rosy morning shone,<br/>
+Reveal&rsquo;d the landscape and the scene unknown,<br/>
+With wonder seized, we view the pleasing ground,<br/>
+And walk delighted, and expatiate round.<br/>
+Roused by the woodland nymphs at early dawn,<br/>
+The mountain goats came bounding o&rsquo;er the lawn:<br/>
+In haste our fellows to the ships repair,<br/>
+For arms and weapons of the sylvan war;<br/>
+Straight in three squadrons all our crew we part,<br/>
+And bend the bow, or wing the missile dart;<br/>
+The bounteous gods afford a copious prey,<br/>
+And nine fat goats each vessel bears away:<br/>
+The royal bark had ten. Our ships complete<br/>
+We thus supplied (for twelve were all the fleet).
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here, till the setting sun roll&rsquo;d down the light,<br/>
+We sat indulging in the genial rite:<br/>
+Nor wines were wanting; those from ample jars<br/>
+We drain&rsquo;d, the prize of our Ciconian wars.<br/>
+The land of Cyclops lay in prospect near:<br/>
+The voice of goats and bleating flocks we hear,<br/>
+And from their mountains rising smokes appear.<br/>
+Now sunk the sun, and darkness cover&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er<br/>
+The face of things: along the sea-beat shore<br/>
+Satiate we slept: but, when the sacred dawn<br/>
+Arising glitter&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er the dewy lawn,<br/>
+I call&rsquo;d my fellows, and these words address&rsquo;d<br/>
+&lsquo;My dear associates, here indulge your rest;<br/>
+While, with my single ship, adventurous, I<br/>
+Go forth, the manners of yon men to try;<br/>
+Whether a race unjust, of barbarous might,<br/>
+Rude and unconscious of a stranger&rsquo;s right;<br/>
+Or such who harbour pity in their breast,<br/>
+Revere the gods, and succour the distress&rsquo;d,&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;This said, I climb&rsquo;d my vessel&rsquo;s lofty side;<br/>
+My train obey&rsquo;d me, and the ship untied.<br/>
+In order seated on their banks, they sweep<br/>
+Neptune&rsquo;s smooth face, and cleave the yielding deep.<br/>
+When to the nearest verge of land we drew,<br/>
+Fast by the sea a lonely cave we view,<br/>
+High, and with darkening laurels covered o&rsquo;er;<br/>
+Where sheep and goats lay slumbering round the shore:<br/>
+Near this, a fence of marble from the rock,<br/>
+Brown with o&rsquo;erarching pine and spreading oak.<br/>
+A giant shepherd here his flock maintains<br/>
+Far from the rest, and solitary reigns,<br/>
+In shelter thick of horrid shade reclined;<br/>
+And gloomy mischiefs labour in his mind.<br/>
+A form enormous! far unlike the race<br/>
+Of human birth, in stature, or in face;<br/>
+As some lone mountain&rsquo;s monstrous growth he stood,<br/>
+Crown&rsquo;d with rough thickets, and a nodding wood.<br/>
+I left my vessel at the point of land,<br/>
+And close to guard it, gave our crew command:<br/>
+With only twelve, the boldest and the best,<br/>
+I seek the adventure, and forsake the rest.<br/>
+Then took a goatskin fill&rsquo;d with precious wine,<br/>
+The gift of Maron of Evantheus&rsquo; line<br/>
+(The priest of Phœbus at the Ismarian shrine).<br/>
+In sacred shade his honour&rsquo;d mansion stood<br/>
+Amidst Apollo&rsquo;s consecrated wood;<br/>
+Him, and his house, Heaven moved my mind to save,<br/>
+And costly presents in return he gave;<br/>
+Seven golden talents to perfection wrought,<br/>
+A silver bowl that held a copious draught,<br/>
+And twelve large vessels of unmingled wine,<br/>
+Mellifluous, undecaying, and divine!<br/>
+Which now, some ages from his race conceal&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The hoary sire in gratitude reveal&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Such was the wine: to quench whose fervent steam<br/>
+Scarce twenty measures from the living stream<br/>
+To cool one cup sufficed: the goblet crown&rsquo;d<br/>
+Breathed aromatic fragrances around.<br/>
+Of this an ample vase we heaved aboard,<br/>
+And brought another with provisions stored.<br/>
+My soul foreboded I should find the bower<br/>
+Of some fell monster, fierce with barbarous power;<br/>
+Some rustic wretch, who lived in Heaven&rsquo;s despite,<br/>
+Contemning laws, and trampling on the right.<br/>
+The cave we found, but vacant all within<br/>
+(His flock the giant tended on the green):<br/>
+But round the grot we gaze; and all we view,<br/>
+In order ranged our admiration drew:<br/>
+The bending shelves with loads of cheeses press&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The folded flocks each separate from the rest<br/>
+(The larger here, and there the lesser lambs,<br/>
+The new-fallen young here bleating for their dams:<br/>
+The kid distinguish&rsquo;d from the lambkin lies);<br/>
+The cavern echoes with responsive cries.<br/>
+Capacious chargers all around were laid.<br/>
+Full pails, and vessels of the milking trade.<br/>
+With fresh provisions hence our fleet to store<br/>
+My friends advise me, and to quit the shore.<br/>
+Or drive a flock of sheep and goats away,<br/>
+Consult our safety, and put off to sea.<br/>
+Their wholesome counsel rashly I declined,<br/>
+Curious to view the man of monstrous kind,<br/>
+And try what social rites a savage lends:<br/>
+Dire rites, alas! and fatal to my friends
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then first a fire we kindle, and prepare<br/>
+For his return with sacrifice and prayer;<br/>
+The loaden shelves afford us full repast;<br/>
+We sit expecting. Lo! he comes at last,<br/>
+Near half a forest on his back he bore,<br/>
+And cast the ponderous burden at the door.<br/>
+It thunder&rsquo;d as it fell. We trembled then,<br/>
+And sought the deep recesses of the den.<br/>
+New driven before him through the arching rock,<br/>
+Came tumbling, heaps on heaps, the unnumber&rsquo;d flock.<br/>
+Big-udder&rsquo;d ewes, and goats of female kind<br/>
+(The males were penn&rsquo;d in outward courts behind);<br/>
+Then, heaved on high, a rock&rsquo;s enormous weight<br/>
+To the cave&rsquo;s mouth he roll&rsquo;d, and closed the gate<br/>
+(Scarce twenty four-wheel&rsquo;d cars, compact and strong,<br/>
+The massy load could bear, or roll along).<br/>
+He next betakes him to his evening cares,<br/>
+And, sitting down, to milk his flocks prepares;<br/>
+Of half their udders eases first the dams,<br/>
+Then to the mother&rsquo;s teat submits the lambs;<br/>
+Half the white stream to hardening cheese be press&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And high in wicker-baskets heap&rsquo;d: the rest,<br/>
+Reserved in bowls, supplied his nightly feast.<br/>
+His labour done, he fired the pile, that gave<br/>
+A sudden blaze, and lighted all the cave.<br/>
+We stand discover&rsquo;d by the rising fires;<br/>
+Askance the giant glares, and thus inquires:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;What are ye, guests? on what adventure, say,<br/>
+Thus far ye wander through the watery way?<br/>
+Pirates perhaps, who seek through seas unknown<br/>
+The lives of others, and expose your own?&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;His voice like thunder through the cavern sounds;<br/>
+My bold companions thrilling fear confounds,<br/>
+Appall&rsquo;d at sight of more than mortal man!<br/>
+At length, with heart recover&rsquo;d, I began:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;From Troy&rsquo;s famed fields, sad wanderers o&rsquo;er the main,<br/>
+Behold the relics of the Grecian train:<br/>
+Through various seas, by various perils toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And forced by storms, unwilling on your coast;<br/>
+Far from our destined course and native land,<br/>
+Such was our fate, and such high Jove&rsquo;s command!<br/>
+Nor what we are befits us to disclaim,<br/>
+Atrides&rsquo; friends (in arms a mighty name),<br/>
+Who taught proud Troy and all her sons to bow;<br/>
+Victors of late, but humble suppliants now!<br/>
+Low at thy knee thy succour we implore;<br/>
+Respect us, human, and relieve us, poor.<br/>
+At least, some hospitable gift bestow;<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis what the happy to the unhappy owe;<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis what the gods require: those gods revere;<br/>
+The poor and stranger are their constant care;<br/>
+To Jove their cause, and their revenge belongs,<br/>
+He wanders with them, and he feels their wrongs.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Fools that ye are (the savage thus replies,<br/>
+His inward fury blazing at his eyes),<br/>
+Or strangers, distant far from our abodes,<br/>
+To bid me reverence or regard the gods.<br/>
+Know then, we Cyclops are a race above<br/>
+Those air-bred people, and their goat-nursed Jove;<br/>
+And learn, our power proceeds with thee and thine,<br/>
+Not as he wills, but as ourselves incline.<br/>
+But answer, the good ship that brought ye o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+Where lies she anchor&rsquo;d? near or off the shore?&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus he. His meditated fraud I find<br/>
+(Versed in the turns of various human-kind):<br/>
+And, cautious thus: &lsquo;Against a dreadful rock,<br/>
+Fast by your shore the gallant vessel broke.<br/>
+Scarce with these few I &rsquo;scaped; of all my train,<br/>
+Whom angry Neptune, whelm&rsquo;d beneath the main,<br/>
+The scattered wreck the winds blew back again.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He answer&rsquo;d with his deed: his bloody hand<br/>
+Snatch&rsquo;d two, unhappy! of my martial band;<br/>
+And dash&rsquo;d like dogs against the stony floor:<br/>
+The pavement swims with brains and mingled gore.<br/>
+Torn limb from limb, he spreads his horrid feast,<br/>
+And fierce devours it like a mountain beast:<br/>
+He sucks the marrow, and the blood he drains,<br/>
+Nor entrails, flesh, nor solid bone remains.<br/>
+We see the death from which we cannot move,<br/>
+And humbled groan beneath the hand of Jove.<br/>
+His ample maw with human carnage fill&rsquo;d,<br/>
+A milky deluge next the giant swill&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Then stretch&rsquo;d in length o&rsquo;er half the cavern&rsquo;d rock,<br/>
+Lay senseless, and supine, amidst the flock.<br/>
+To seize the time, and with a sudden wound<br/>
+To fix the slumbering monster to the ground,<br/>
+My soul impels me! and in act I stand<br/>
+To draw the sword; but wisdom held my hand.<br/>
+A deed so rash had finished all our fate,<br/>
+No mortal forces from the lofty gate<br/>
+Could roll the rock. In hopeless grief we lay,<br/>
+And sigh, expecting the return of day.<br/>
+Now did the rosy-fingered morn arise,<br/>
+And shed her sacred light along the skies;<br/>
+He wakes, he lights the fire, he milks the dams,<br/>
+And to the mother&rsquo;s teats submits the lambs.<br/>
+The task thus finish&rsquo;d of his morning hours,<br/>
+Two more he snatches, murders, and devours.<br/>
+Then pleased, and whistling, drives his flock before,<br/>
+Removes the rocky mountain from the door,<br/>
+And shuts again: with equal ease disposed,<br/>
+As a light quiver&rsquo;s lid is oped and closed.<br/>
+His giant voice the echoing region fills:<br/>
+His flocks, obedient, spread o&rsquo;er all the hills.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus left behind, even in the last despair<br/>
+I thought, devised, and Pallas heard my prayer.<br/>
+Revenge, and doubt, and caution, work&rsquo;d my breast;<br/>
+But this of many counsels seem&rsquo;d the best:<br/>
+The monster&rsquo;s club within the cave I spied,<br/>
+A tree of stateliest growth, and yet undried,<br/>
+Green from the wood: of height and bulk so vast,<br/>
+The largest ship might claim it for a mast.<br/>
+This shorten&rsquo;d of its top, I gave my train<br/>
+A fathom&rsquo;s length, to shape it and to plane;<br/>
+The narrower end I sharpen&rsquo;d to a spire,<br/>
+Whose point we harden&rsquo;d with the force of fire,<br/>
+And hid it in the dust that strew&rsquo;d the cave,<br/>
+Then to my few companions, bold and brave,<br/>
+Proposed, who first the venturous deed should try,<br/>
+In the broad orbit of his monstrous eye<br/>
+To plunge the brand and twirl the pointed wood,<br/>
+When slumber next should tame the man of blood.<br/>
+Just as I wished, the lots were cast on four:<br/>
+Myself the fifth. We stand and wait the hour.<br/>
+He comes with evening: all his fleecy flock<br/>
+Before him march, and pour into the rock:<br/>
+Not one, or male or female, stayed behind<br/>
+(So fortune chanced, or so some god designed);<br/>
+Then heaving high the stone&rsquo;s unwieldy weight,<br/>
+He roll&rsquo;d it on the cave and closed the gate.<br/>
+First down he sits, to milk the woolly dams,<br/>
+And then permits their udder to the lambs.<br/>
+Next seized two wretches more, and headlong cast,<br/>
+Brain&rsquo;d on the rock; his second dire repast.<br/>
+I then approach&rsquo;d him reeking with their gore,<br/>
+And held the brimming goblet foaming o&rsquo;er;<br/>
+&lsquo;Cyclop! since human flesh has been thy feast,<br/>
+Now drain this goblet, potent to digest;<br/>
+Know hence what treasures in our ship we lost,<br/>
+And what rich liquors other climates boast.<br/>
+We to thy shore the precious freight shall bear,<br/>
+If home thou send us and vouchsafe to spare.<br/>
+But oh! thus furious, thirsting thus for gore,<br/>
+The sons of men shall ne&rsquo;er approach thy shore,<br/>
+And never shalt thou taste this nectar more,&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He heard, he took, and pouring down his throat,<br/>
+Delighted, swill&rsquo;d the large luxurious draught,<br/>
+&lsquo;More! give me more (he cried): the boon be thine,<br/>
+Whoe&rsquo;er thou art that bear&rsquo;st celestial wine!<br/>
+Declare thy name: not mortal is this juice,<br/>
+Such as the unbless&rsquo;d Cyclopæan climes produce<br/>
+(Though sure our vine the largest cluster yields,<br/>
+And Jove&rsquo;s scorn&rsquo;d thunder serves to drench our fields);<br/>
+But this descended from the bless&rsquo;d abodes,<br/>
+A rill of nectar, streaming from the gods.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said, and greedy grasped the heady bowl,<br/>
+Thrice drained, and poured the deluge on his soul.<br/>
+His sense lay covered with the dozy fume;<br/>
+While thus my fraudful speech I reassume.<br/>
+&lsquo;Thy promised boon, O Cyclop! now I claim,<br/>
+And plead my title; Noman is my name.<br/>
+By that distinguish&rsquo;d from my tender years,<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis what my parents call me, and my peers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The giant then: &lsquo;Our promis&rsquo;d grace receive,<br/>
+The hospitable boon we mean to give:<br/>
+When all thy wretched crew have felt my power,<br/>
+Noman shall be the last I will devour.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He said: then nodding with the fumes of wine<br/>
+Droop&rsquo;d his huge head, and snoring lay supine.<br/>
+His neck obliquely o&rsquo;er his shoulders hung,<br/>
+Press&rsquo;d with the weight of sleep that tames the strong:<br/>
+There belch&rsquo;d the mingled streams of wine and blood,<br/>
+And human flesh, his indigested food.<br/>
+Sudden I stir the embers, and inspire<br/>
+With animating breath the seeds of fire:<br/>
+Each drooping spirit with bold words repair,<br/>
+And urged my train the dreadful deed to dare.<br/>
+The stake now glow&rsquo;d beneath the burning bed<br/>
+(Green as it was) and sparkled fiery red,<br/>
+Then forth the vengeful instrument I bring;<br/>
+With beating hearts my fellows form a ring.<br/>
+Urged my some present god, they swift let fall<br/>
+The pointed torment on his visual ball.<br/>
+Myself above them from a rising ground<br/>
+Guide the sharp stake, and twirl it round and round.<br/>
+As when a shipwright stands his workmen o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+Who ply the wimble, some huge beam to bore;<br/>
+Urged on all hands, it nimbly spins about,<br/>
+The grain deep-piercing till it scoops it out:<br/>
+In his broad eye he whirls the fiery wood;<br/>
+From the pierced pupil spouts the boiling blood;<br/>
+Singed are his brows; the scorching lids grow black;<br/>
+The jelly bubbles, and the fibres crack.<br/>
+And as when armourers temper in the ford<br/>
+The keen-edged pole-axe, or the shining sword,<br/>
+The red-hot metal hisses in the lake,<br/>
+Thus in his eye-ball hiss&rsquo;d the plunging stake.<br/>
+He sends a dreadful groan, the rocks around<br/>
+Through all their inmost winding caves resound.<br/>
+Scared we recoiled. Forth with frantic hand,<br/>
+He tore and dash&rsquo;d on earth and gory brand;<br/>
+Then calls the Cyclops, all that round him dwell,<br/>
+With voice like thunder, and a direful yell.<br/>
+From all their dens the one-eyed race repair,<br/>
+From rifted rocks, and mountains bleak in air.<br/>
+All haste assembled, at his well-known roar,<br/>
+Inquire the cause, and crowd the cavern door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;What hurts thee, Polypheme? what strange affright<br/>
+Thus breaks our slumbers, and disturbs the night?<br/>
+Does any mortal, in the unguarded hour<br/>
+Of sleep, oppress thee, or by fraud or power?<br/>
+Or thieves insidious thy fair flock surprise?&rsquo;<br/>
+Thus they; the Cyclop from his den replies:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Friends, Noman kills me; Noman in the hour<br/>
+Of sleep, oppresses me with fraudful power.&rsquo;<br/>
+&lsquo;If no man hurt thee, but the hand divine<br/>
+Inflict disease, it fits thee to resign:<br/>
+To Jove or to thy father Neptune pray.&rsquo;<br/>
+The brethren cried, and instant strode away.<br/>
+&ldquo;Joy touch&rsquo;d my secret soul and conscious heart,<br/>
+Pleased with the effect of conduct and of art.<br/>
+Meantime the Cyclop, raging with his wound,<br/>
+Spreads his wide arms, and searches round and round:<br/>
+At last, the stone removing from the gate,<br/>
+With hands extended in the midst he sate;<br/>
+And search&rsquo;d each passing sheep, and felt it o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+Secure to seize us ere we reach&rsquo;d the door<br/>
+(Such as his shallow wit he deem&rsquo;d was mine);<br/>
+But secret I revolved the deep design:<br/>
+&rsquo;Twas for our lives my labouring bosom wrought;<br/>
+Each scheme I turn&rsquo;d, and sharpen&rsquo;d every thought;<br/>
+This way and that I cast to save my friends,<br/>
+Till one resolve my varying counsel ends.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Strong were the rams, with native purple fair,<br/>
+Well fed, and largest of the fleecy care,<br/>
+These, three and three, with osier bands we tied<br/>
+(The twining bands the Cyclop&rsquo;s bed supplied);<br/>
+The midmost bore a man, the outward two<br/>
+Secured each side: so bound we all the crew,<br/>
+One ram remain&rsquo;d, the leader of the flock:<br/>
+In his deep fleece my grasping hands I lock,<br/>
+And fast beneath, in wooly curls inwove,<br/>
+There cling implicit, and confide in Jove.<br/>
+When rosy morning glimmer&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er the dales,<br/>
+He drove to pasture all the lusty males:<br/>
+The ewes still folded, with distended thighs<br/>
+Unmilk&rsquo;d lay bleating in distressful cries.<br/>
+But heedless of those cares, with anguish stung,<br/>
+He felt their fleeces as they pass&rsquo;d along<br/>
+(Fool that he was.) and let them safely go,<br/>
+All unsuspecting of their freight below.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The master ram at last approach&rsquo;d the gate,<br/>
+Charged with his wool, and with Ulysses&rsquo; fate.<br/>
+Him while he pass&rsquo;d, the monster blind bespoke:<br/>
+&lsquo;What makes my ram the lag of all the flock?<br/>
+First thou wert wont to crop the flowery mead,<br/>
+First to the field and river&rsquo;s bank to lead,<br/>
+And first with stately step at evening hour<br/>
+Thy fleecy fellows usher to their bower.<br/>
+Now far the last, with pensive pace and slow<br/>
+Thou movest, as conscious of thy master&rsquo;s woe!<br/>
+Seest thou these lids that now unfold in vain?<br/>
+(The deed of Noman and his wicked train!)<br/>
+Oh! did&rsquo;st thou feel for thy afflicted lord,<br/>
+And would but Fate the power of speech afford.<br/>
+Soon might&rsquo;st thou tell me, where in secret here<br/>
+The dastard lurks, all trembling with his fear:<br/>
+Swung round and round, and dash&rsquo;d from rock to rock,<br/>
+His battered brains should on the pavement smoke<br/>
+No ease, no pleasure my sad heart receives,<br/>
+While such a monster as vile Noman lives.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The giant spoke, and through the hollow rock<br/>
+Dismiss&rsquo;d the ram, the father of the flock.<br/>
+No sooner freed, and through the inclosure pass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+First I release myself, my fellows last:<br/>
+Fat sheep and goats in throngs we drive before,<br/>
+And reach our vessel on the winding shore.<br/>
+With joy the sailors view their friends return&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And hail us living whom as dead they mourn&rsquo;d<br/>
+Big tears of transport stand in every eye:<br/>
+I check their fondness, and command to fly.<br/>
+Aboard in haste they heave the wealthy sheep,<br/>
+And snatch their oars, and rush into the deep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now off at sea, and from the shallows clear,<br/>
+As far as human voice could reach the ear,<br/>
+With taunts the distant giant I accost:<br/>
+&lsquo;Hear me, O Cyclop! hear, ungracious host!<br/>
+&rsquo;Twas on no coward, no ignoble slave,<br/>
+Thou meditatest thy meal in yonder cave;<br/>
+But one, the vengeance fated from above<br/>
+Doom&rsquo;d to inflict; the instrument of Jove.<br/>
+Thy barbarous breach of hospitable bands,<br/>
+The god, the god revenges by my hands.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;These words the Cyclop&rsquo;s burning rage provoke;<br/>
+From the tall hill he rends a pointed rock;<br/>
+High o&rsquo;er the billows flew the massy load,<br/>
+And near the ship came thundering on the flood.<br/>
+It almost brush&rsquo;d the helm, and fell before:<br/>
+The whole sea shook, and refluent beat the shore,<br/>
+The strong concussion on the heaving tide<br/>
+Roll&rsquo;d back the vessel to the island&rsquo;s side:<br/>
+Again I shoved her off: our fate to fly,<br/>
+Each nerve we stretch, and every oar we ply.<br/>
+Just &rsquo;scaped impending death, when now again<br/>
+We twice as far had furrow&rsquo;d back the main,<br/>
+Once more I raise my voice; my friends, afraid,<br/>
+With mild entreaties my design dissuade:<br/>
+&lsquo;What boots the godless giant to provoke,<br/>
+Whose arm may sink us at a single stroke?<br/>
+Already when the dreadful rock he threw,<br/>
+Old Ocean shook, and back his surges flew.<br/>
+The sounding voice directs his aim again;<br/>
+The rock o&rsquo;erwhelms us, and we &rsquo;scaped in vain.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But I, of mind elate, and scorning fear,<br/>
+Thus with new taunts insult the monster&rsquo;s ear:<br/>
+&lsquo;Cyclop! if any, pitying thy disgrace.<br/>
+Ask, who disfigured thus that eyeless face?<br/>
+Say &rsquo;twas Ulysses: &rsquo;twas his deed declare,<br/>
+Laertes&rsquo; son, of Ithaca the fair;<br/>
+Ulysses, far in fighting fields renown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Before whose arm Troy tumbled to the ground.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The astonished savage with a roar replies:<br/>
+&lsquo;Oh heavens! oh faith of ancient prophecies!<br/>
+This, Telemus Eurymedes foretold<br/>
+(The mighty seer who on these hills grew old;<br/>
+Skill&rsquo;d the dark fates of mortals to declare,<br/>
+And learn&rsquo;d in all wing&rsquo;d omens of the air);<br/>
+Long since he menaced, such was Fate&rsquo;s command;<br/>
+And named Ulysses as the destined hand.<br/>
+I deem&rsquo;d some godlike giant to behold,<br/>
+Or lofty hero, haughty, brave, and bold;<br/>
+Not this weak pigmy wretch, of mean design,<br/>
+Who, not by strength subdued me, but by wine.<br/>
+But come, accept our gifts, and join to pray<br/>
+Great Neptune&rsquo;s blessing on the watery way;<br/>
+For his I am, and I the lineage own;<br/>
+The immortal father no less boasts the son.<br/>
+His power can heal me, and relight my eye;<br/>
+And only his, of all the gods on high.&rsquo;<br/>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Oh! could this arm (I thus aloud rejoin&rsquo;d)<br/>
+From that vast bulk dislodge thy bloody mind,<br/>
+And send thee howling to the realms of night!<br/>
+As sure as Neptune cannot give thee sight.&rsquo;<br/>
+&ldquo;Thus I; while raging he repeats his cries,<br/>
+With hands uplifted to the starry skies?<br/>
+&lsquo;Hear me, O Neptune; thou whose arms are hurl&rsquo;d<br/>
+From shore to shore, and gird the solid world;<br/>
+If thine I am, nor thou my birth disown,<br/>
+And if the unhappy Cyclop be thy son,<br/>
+Let not Ulysses breathe his native air,<br/>
+Laertes&rsquo; son, of Ithaca the fair.<br/>
+If to review his country be his fate,<br/>
+Be it through toils and sufferings long and late;<br/>
+His lost companions let him first deplore;<br/>
+Some vessel, not his own, transport him o&rsquo;er;<br/>
+And when at home from foreign sufferings freed,<br/>
+More near and deep, domestic woes succeed!&rsquo;<br/>
+With imprecations thus he fill&rsquo;d the air,<br/>
+And angry Neptune heard the unrighteous prayer,<br/>
+A larger rock then heaving from the plain,<br/>
+He whirl&rsquo;d it round: it sung across the main;<br/>
+It fell, and brush&rsquo;d the stern: the billows roar,<br/>
+Shake at the weight, and refluent beat the shore.<br/>
+With all our force we kept aloof to sea,<br/>
+And gain&rsquo;d the island where our vessels lay.<br/>
+Our sight the whole collected navy cheer&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Who, waiting long, by turns had hoped and fear&rsquo;d.<br/>
+There disembarking on the green sea side,<br/>
+We land our cattle, and the spoil divide;<br/>
+Of these due shares to every sailor fall;<br/>
+The master ram was voted mine by all;<br/>
+And him (the guardian of Ulysses&rsquo; fate)<br/>
+With pious mind to heaven I consecrate.<br/>
+But the great god, whose thunder rends the skies,<br/>
+Averse, beholds the smoking sacrifice;<br/>
+And sees me wandering still from coast to coast,<br/>
+And all my vessels, all my people, lost!<br/>
+While thoughtless we indulge the genial rite,<br/>
+As plenteous cates and flowing bowls invite;<br/>
+Till evening Phœbus roll&rsquo;d away the light;<br/>
+Stretch&rsquo;d on the shore in careless ease we rest,<br/>
+Till ruddy morning purpled o&rsquo;er the east;<br/>
+Then from their anchors all our ships unbind,<br/>
+And mount the decks, and call the willing wind.<br/>
+Now, ranged in order on our banks we sweep.<br/>
+With hasty strokes the hoarse-resounding deep;<br/>
+Blind to the future, pensive with our fears,<br/>
+Glad for the living, for the dead in tears.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap10"></a>BOOK X.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+ADVENTURES WITH AEOLUS, THE LAESTRYGONS, AND CIRCE.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Ulysses arrives at the island of Æolus, who gives him prosperous winds, and
+incloses the adverse ones in a bag, which his companions untying, they are
+driven back again and rejected. Then they sail to the Laestrygons, where they
+lose eleven ships, and, with only one remaining, proceed to the island of
+Circe. Eurylochus is sent first with some companions, all which, except
+Eurylochus, are transformed into swine. Ulysses then undertakes the adventure,
+and, by the help of Mercury, who gives him the herb Moly, overcomes the
+enchantress, and procures the restoration of his men. After a year&rsquo;s stay
+with her, he prepares, at her instigation, for his voyage to the infernal
+shades.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+&ldquo;At length we reach&rsquo;d Æolias&rsquo;s sea-girt shore,<br/>
+Where great Hippotades the sceptre bore,<br/>
+A floating isle! high-raised by toil divine,<br/>
+Strong walls of brass the rocky coast confine.<br/>
+Six blooming youths, in private grandeur bred,<br/>
+And six fair daughters, graced the royal bed;<br/>
+These sons their sisters wed, and all remain<br/>
+Their parents&rsquo; pride, and pleasure of their reign.<br/>
+All day they feast, all day the bowls flow round,<br/>
+And joy and music through the isle resound;<br/>
+At night each pair on splendid carpets lay,<br/>
+And crown&rsquo;d with love the pleasures of the day.<br/>
+This happy port affords our wandering fleet<br/>
+A month&rsquo;s reception, and a safe retreat.<br/>
+Full oft the monarch urged me to relate<br/>
+The fall of Ilion, and the Grecian fate;<br/>
+Full oft I told: at length for parting moved;<br/>
+The king with mighty gifts my suit approved.<br/>
+The adverse winds in leathern bags he braced,<br/>
+Compress&rsquo;d their force, and lock&rsquo;d each struggling blast.<br/>
+For him the mighty sire of gods assign&rsquo;d<br/>
+The tempest&rsquo;s lord, the tyrant of the wind;<br/>
+His word alone the listening storms obey,<br/>
+To smooth the deep, or swell the foamy sea.<br/>
+These in my hollow ship the monarch hung,<br/>
+Securely fetter&rsquo;d by a silver thong:<br/>
+But Zephyrus exempt, with friendly gales<br/>
+He charged to fill, and guide the swelling sails:<br/>
+Rare gift! but O, what gift to fools avails!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nine prosperous days we plied the labouring oar;<br/>
+The tenth presents our welcome native shore:<br/>
+The hills display the beacon&rsquo;s friendly light,<br/>
+And rising mountains gain upon our sight.<br/>
+Then first my eyes, by watchful toils oppress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Complied to take the balmy gifts of rest:<br/>
+Then first my hands did from the rudder part<br/>
+(So much the love of home possess&rsquo;d my heart):<br/>
+When lo! on board a fond debate arose;<br/>
+What rare device those vessels might inclose?<br/>
+What sum, what prize from Æolus I brought?<br/>
+Whilst to his neighbour each express&rsquo;d his thought:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Say, whence ye gods, contending nations strive<br/>
+Who most shall please, who most our hero give?<br/>
+Long have his coffers groan&rsquo;d with Trojan spoils:<br/>
+Whilst we, the wretched partners of his toils,<br/>
+Reproach&rsquo;d by want, our fruitless labours mourn,<br/>
+And only rich in barren fame return.<br/>
+Now Æolus, ye see, augments his store:<br/>
+But come, my friends, these mystic gifts explore,&rsquo;<br/>
+They said: and (oh cursed fate!) the thongs unbound!<br/>
+The gushing tempest sweeps the ocean round;<br/>
+Snatch&rsquo;d in the whirl, the hurried navy flew,<br/>
+The ocean widen&rsquo;d and the shores withdrew.<br/>
+Roused from my fatal sleep I long debate<br/>
+If still to live, or desperate plunge to fate;<br/>
+Thus doubting, prostrate on the deck I lay,<br/>
+Till all the coward thoughts of death gave way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Meanwhile our vessels plough the liquid plain,<br/>
+And soon the known AEolian coast regain;<br/>
+Our groan the rocks remurmur&rsquo;d to the main.<br/>
+We leap&rsquo;d on shore, and with a scanty feast<br/>
+Our thirst and hunger hastily repress&rsquo;d;<br/>
+That done, two chosen heralds straight attend<br/>
+Our second progress to my royal friend;<br/>
+And him amidst his jovial sons we found;<br/>
+The banquet steaming, and the goblets crown&rsquo;d;<br/>
+There humbly stoop&rsquo;d with conscious shame and awe,<br/>
+Nor nearer than the gate presumed to draw.<br/>
+But soon his sons their well-known guest descried,<br/>
+And starting from their couches loudly cried:<br/>
+&lsquo;Ulysses here! what demon could&rsquo;st thou meet<br/>
+To thwart thy passage, and repel thy fleet?<br/>
+Wast thou not furnish&rsquo;d by our choicest care<br/>
+For Greece, for home and all thy soul held dear?&rsquo;<br/>
+Thus they, In silence long my fate I mourn&rsquo;d;<br/>
+At length these words with accents low return&rsquo;d:<br/>
+`Me, lock&rsquo;d in sleep, my faithless crew bereft<br/>
+Of all the blessing of your godlike gift!<br/>
+But grant, oh grant, our loss we may retrieve;<br/>
+A favour you, and you alone can give.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus I with art to move their pity tried,<br/>
+And touch&rsquo;d the youths; but their stern sire replied:<br/>
+&lsquo;Vile wretch, begone! this instant I command<br/>
+Thy fleet accursed to leave our hallow&rsquo;d land.<br/>
+His baneful suit pollutes these bless&rsquo;d abodes,<br/>
+Whose fate proclaims him hateful to the gods.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus fierce he said: we sighing went our way,<br/>
+And with desponding hearts put off to sea.<br/>
+The sailors spent with toils their folly mourn,<br/>
+But mourn in vain; no prospect of return<br/>
+Six days and nights a doubtful course we steer,<br/>
+The next proud Lamos&rsquo; stately towers appear,<br/>
+And Laestrygonia&rsquo;s gates arise distinct in air.<br/>
+The shepherd, quitting here at night the plain,<br/>
+Calls, to succeed his cares, the watchful swain;<br/>
+But he that scorns the chains of sleep to wear,<br/>
+And adds the herdsman&rsquo;s to the shepherd&rsquo;s care,<br/>
+So near the pastures, and so short the way,<br/>
+His double toils may claim a double pay,<br/>
+And join the labours of the night and day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Within a long recess a bay there lies,<br/>
+Edged round with cliffs high pointing to the skies;<br/>
+The jutting shores that swell on either side<br/>
+Contract its mouth, and break the rushing tide.<br/>
+Our eager sailors seize the fair retreat,<br/>
+And bound within the port their crowded fleet:<br/>
+For here retired the sinking billows sleep,<br/>
+And smiling calmness silver&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er the deep.<br/>
+I only in the bay refused to moor,<br/>
+And fix&rsquo;d without, my halsers to the shore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;From thence we climb&rsquo;d a point, whose airy brow<br/>
+Commands the prospect of the plains below;<br/>
+No tracks of beasts, or signs of men, we found,<br/>
+But smoky volumes rolling from the ground.<br/>
+Two with our herald thither we command,<br/>
+With speed to learn what men possess&rsquo;d the land.<br/>
+They went, and kept the wheel&rsquo;s smooth-beaten road<br/>
+Which to the city drew the mountain wood;<br/>
+When lo! they met, beside a crystal spring,<br/>
+The daughter of Antiphates the king;<br/>
+She to Artacia&rsquo;s silver streams came down;<br/>
+(Artacia&rsquo;s streams alone supply the town);<br/>
+The damsel they approach, and ask&rsquo;d what race<br/>
+The people were? who monarch of the place?<br/>
+With joy the maid the unwary strangers heard<br/>
+And show&rsquo;d them where the royal dome appear&rsquo;d.<br/>
+They went; but as they entering saw the queen<br/>
+Of size enormous, and terrific mien<br/>
+(Not yielding to some bulky mountain&rsquo;s height),<br/>
+A sudden horror struck their aching sight.<br/>
+Swift at her call her husband scour&rsquo;d away<br/>
+To wreak his hunger on the destined prey;<br/>
+One for his food the raging glutton slew,<br/>
+But two rush&rsquo;d out, and to the navy flew.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Balk&rsquo;d of his prey, the yelling monster flies,<br/>
+And fills the city with his hideous cries;<br/>
+A ghastly band of giants hear the roar,<br/>
+And, pouring down the mountains, crowd the shore.<br/>
+Fragments they rend from off the craggy brow<br/>
+And dash the ruins on the ships below;<br/>
+The crackling vessels burst; hoarse groans arise,<br/>
+And mingled horrors echo to the skies;<br/>
+The men like fish, they struck upon the flood,<br/>
+And cramm&rsquo;d their filthy throats with human food.<br/>
+Whilst thus their fury rages at the bay,<br/>
+My sword our cables cut, I call&rsquo;d to weigh;<br/>
+And charged my men, as they from fate would fly,<br/>
+Each nerve to strain, each bending oar to ply.<br/>
+The sailors catch the word, their oars they seize,<br/>
+And sweep with equal strokes the smoky seas;<br/>
+Clear of the rocks the impatient vessel flies;<br/>
+Whilst in the port each wretch encumber&rsquo;d dies.<br/>
+With earnest haste my frighted sailors press,<br/>
+While kindling transports glow&rsquo;d at our success;<br/>
+But the sad fate that did our friends destroy,<br/>
+Cool&rsquo;d every breast, and damp&rsquo;d the rising joy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now dropp&rsquo;d our anchors in the Ææan bay,<br/>
+Where Circe dwelt, the daughter of the Day!<br/>
+Her mother Perse, of old Ocean&rsquo;s strain,<br/>
+Thus from the Sun descended, and the Main<br/>
+(From the same lineage stern Aeaetes came,<br/>
+The far-famed brother of the enchantress dame);<br/>
+Goddess, the queen, to whom the powers belong<br/>
+Of dreadful magic and commanding song.<br/>
+Some god directing to this peaceful bay<br/>
+Silent we came, and melancholy lay,<br/>
+Spent and o&rsquo;erwatch&rsquo;d. Two days and nights roll&rsquo;d on,<br/>
+And now the third succeeding morning shone.<br/>
+I climb&rsquo;d a cliff, with spear and sword in hand,<br/>
+Whose ridge o&rsquo;erlook&rsquo;d a shady length of land;<br/>
+To learn if aught of mortal works appear,<br/>
+Or cheerful voice of mortal strike the ear?<br/>
+From the high point I mark&rsquo;d, in distant view,<br/>
+A stream of curling smoke ascending blue,<br/>
+And spiry tops, the tufted trees above,<br/>
+Of Circe&rsquo;s palace bosom&rsquo;d in the grove.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thither to haste, the region to explore,<br/>
+Was first my thought: but speeding back to shore<br/>
+I deem&rsquo;d it best to visit first my crew,<br/>
+And send our spies the dubious coast to view.<br/>
+As down the hill I solitary go,<br/>
+Some power divine, who pities human woe,<br/>
+Sent a tall stag, descending from the wood,<br/>
+To cool his fervour in the crystal flood;<br/>
+Luxuriant on the wave-worn bank he lay,<br/>
+Stretch&rsquo;d forth and panting in the sunny ray.<br/>
+I launch&rsquo;d my spear, and with a sudden wound<br/>
+Transpierced his back, and fix&rsquo;d him to the ground.<br/>
+He falls, and mourns his fate with human cries:<br/>
+Through the wide wound the vital spirit flies.<br/>
+I drew, and casting on the river&rsquo;s side<br/>
+The bloody spear, his gather&rsquo;d feet I tied<br/>
+With twining osiers which the bank supplied.<br/>
+An ell in length the pliant wisp I weaved,<br/>
+And the huge body on my shoulders heaved:<br/>
+Then leaning on my spear with both my hands,<br/>
+Upbore my load, and press&rsquo;d the sinking sands<br/>
+With weighty steps, till at the ship I threw<br/>
+The welcome burden, and bespoke my crew:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Cheer up, my friends! it is not yet our fate<br/>
+To glide with ghosts through Pluto&rsquo;s gloomy gate.<br/>
+Food in the desert land, behold! is given!<br/>
+Live, and enjoy the providence of heaven.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The joyful crew survey his mighty size,<br/>
+And on the future banquet feast their eyes,<br/>
+As huge in length extended lay the beast;<br/>
+Then wash their hands, and hasten to the feast.<br/>
+There, till the setting sun roll&rsquo;d down the light,<br/>
+They sate indulging in the genial rite.<br/>
+When evening rose, and darkness cover&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er<br/>
+The face of things, we slept along the shore.<br/>
+But when the rosy morning warm&rsquo;d the east,<br/>
+My men I summon&rsquo;d, and these words address&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Followers and friends, attend what I propose:<br/>
+Ye sad companions of Ulysses&rsquo; woes!<br/>
+We know not here what land before us lies,<br/>
+Or to what quarter now we turn our eyes,<br/>
+Or where the sun shall set, or where shall rise.<br/>
+Here let us think (if thinking be not vain)<br/>
+If any counsel, any hope remain.<br/>
+Alas! from yonder promontory&rsquo;s brow<br/>
+I view&rsquo;d the coast, a region flat and low;<br/>
+An isle encircled with the boundless flood;<br/>
+A length of thickets, and entangled wood.<br/>
+Some smoke I saw amid the forest rise,<br/>
+And all around it only seas and skies!&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;With broken hearts my sad companions stood,<br/>
+Mindful of Cyclops and his human food,<br/>
+And horrid Laestrygons, the men of blood.<br/>
+Presaging tears apace began to rain;<br/>
+But tears in mortal miseries are vain.<br/>
+In equal parts I straight divide my band,<br/>
+And name a chief each party to command;<br/>
+I led the one, and of the other side<br/>
+Appointed brave Eurylochus the guide.<br/>
+Then in the brazen helm the lots we throw,<br/>
+And fortune casts Eurylochus to go;<br/>
+He march&rsquo;d with twice eleven in his train;<br/>
+Pensive they march, and pensive we remain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The palace in a woody vale they found,<br/>
+High raised of stone; a shaded space around;<br/>
+Where mountain wolves and brindled lions roam,<br/>
+(By magic tamed,) familiar to the dome.<br/>
+With gentle blandishment our men they meet,<br/>
+And wag their tails, and fawning lick their feet.<br/>
+As from some feast a man returning late,<br/>
+His faithful dogs all meet him at the gate,<br/>
+Rejoicing round, some morsel to receive,<br/>
+(Such as the good man ever used to give,)<br/>
+Domestic thus the grisly beasts drew near;<br/>
+They gaze with wonder not unmix&rsquo;d with fear.<br/>
+Now on the threshold of the dome they stood,<br/>
+And heard a voice resounding through the wood:<br/>
+Placed at her loom within, the goddess sung;<br/>
+The vaulted roofs and solid pavement rung.<br/>
+O&rsquo;er the fair web the rising figures shine,<br/>
+Immortal labour! worthy hands divine.<br/>
+Polites to the rest the question moved<br/>
+(A gallant leader, and a man I loved):
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;What voice celestial, chanting to the loom<br/>
+(Or nymph, or goddess), echoes from the room?<br/>
+Say, shall we seek access?&rsquo; With that they call;<br/>
+And wide unfold the portals of the hall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The goddess, rising, asks her guests to stay,<br/>
+Who blindly follow where she leads the way.<br/>
+Eurylochus alone of all the band,<br/>
+Suspecting fraud, more prudently remain&rsquo;d.<br/>
+On thrones around with downy coverings graced,<br/>
+With semblance fair, the unhappy men she placed.<br/>
+Milk newly press&rsquo;d, the sacred flour of wheat,<br/>
+And honey fresh, and Pramnian wines the treat:<br/>
+But venom&rsquo;d was the bread, and mix&rsquo;d the bowl,<br/>
+With drugs of force to darken all the soul:<br/>
+Soon in the luscious feast themselves they lost,<br/>
+And drank oblivion of their native coast.<br/>
+Instant her circling wand the goddess waves,<br/>
+To hogs transforms them, and the sty receives.<br/>
+No more was seen the human form divine;<br/>
+Head, face, and members, bristle into swine:<br/>
+Still cursed with sense, their minds remain alone,<br/>
+And their own voice affrights them when they groan.<br/>
+Meanwhile the goddess in disdain bestows<br/>
+The mast and acorn, brutal food! and strows<br/>
+The fruits and cornel, as their feast, around;<br/>
+Now prone and grovelling on unsavoury ground.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Eurylochus, with pensive steps and slow.<br/>
+Aghast returns; the messenger of woe,<br/>
+And bitter fate. To speak he made essay,<br/>
+In vain essay&rsquo;d, nor would his tongue obey.<br/>
+His swelling heart denied the words their way:<br/>
+But speaking tears the want of words supply,<br/>
+And the full soul bursts copious from his eye.<br/>
+Affrighted, anxious for our fellows&rsquo; fates,<br/>
+We press to hear what sadly he relates:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We went, Ulysses! (such was thy command)<br/>
+Through the lone thicket and the desert land.<br/>
+A palace in a woody vale we found<br/>
+Brown with dark forests, and with shades around.<br/>
+A voice celestial echoed through the dome,<br/>
+Or nymph or goddess, chanting to the loom.<br/>
+Access we sought, nor was access denied:<br/>
+Radiant she came: the portals open&rsquo;d wide:<br/>
+The goddess mild invites the guests to stay:<br/>
+They blindly follow where she leads the way.<br/>
+I only wait behind of all the train:<br/>
+I waited long, and eyed the doors in vain:<br/>
+The rest are vanish&rsquo;d, none repass&rsquo;d the gate,<br/>
+And not a man appears to tell their fate.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I heard, and instant o&rsquo;er my shoulder flung<br/>
+The belt in which my weighty falchion hung<br/>
+(A beamy blade): then seized the bended bow,<br/>
+And bade him guide the way, resolved to go.<br/>
+He, prostrate falling, with both hands embraced<br/>
+My knees, and weeping thus his suit address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;O king, beloved of Jove, thy servant spare,<br/>
+And ah, thyself the rash attempt forbear!<br/>
+Never, alas! thou never shalt return,<br/>
+Or see the wretched for whose loss we mourn.<br/>
+With what remains from certain ruin fly,<br/>
+And save the few not fated yet to die.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I answer&rsquo;d stern: &lsquo;Inglorious then remain,<br/>
+Here feast and loiter, and desert thy train.<br/>
+Alone, unfriended, will I tempt my way;<br/>
+The laws of fate compel, and I obey.&rsquo;<br/>
+This said, and scornful turning from the shore<br/>
+My haughty step, I stalk&rsquo;d the valley o&rsquo;er.<br/>
+Till now approaching nigh the magic bower,<br/>
+Where dwelt the enchantress skill&rsquo;d in herbs of power,<br/>
+A form divine forth issued from the wood<br/>
+(Immortal Hermes with the golden rod)<br/>
+In human semblance. On his bloomy face<br/>
+Youth smiled celestial, with each opening grace.<br/>
+He seized my hand, and gracious thus began:<br/>
+&lsquo;Ah whither roam&rsquo;st thou, much-enduring man?<br/>
+O blind to fate! what led thy steps to rove<br/>
+The horrid mazes of this magic grove?<br/>
+Each friend you seek in yon enclosure lies,<br/>
+All lost their form, and habitants of sties.<br/>
+Think&rsquo;st thou by wit to model their escape?<br/>
+Sooner shalt thou, a stranger to thy shape,<br/>
+Fall prone their equal: first thy danger know,<br/>
+Then take the antidote the gods bestow.<br/>
+The plant I give through all the direful bower<br/>
+Shall guard thee, and avert the evil hour.<br/>
+Now hear her wicked arts: Before thy eyes<br/>
+The bowl shall sparkle, and the banquet rise;<br/>
+Take this, nor from the faithless feast abstain,<br/>
+For temper&rsquo;d drugs and poison shall be vain.<br/>
+Soon as she strikes her wand, and gives the word,<br/>
+Draw forth and brandish thy refulgent sword,<br/>
+And menace death: those menaces shall move<br/>
+Her alter&rsquo;d mind to blandishment and love.<br/>
+Nor shun the blessing proffer&rsquo;d to thy arms,<br/>
+Ascend her bed, and taste celestial charms;<br/>
+So shall thy tedious toils a respite find,<br/>
+And thy lost friends return to human kind.<br/>
+But swear her first by those dread oaths that tie<br/>
+The powers below, the blessed in the sky;<br/>
+Lest to thee naked secret fraud be meant,<br/>
+Or magic bind thee cold and impotent.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus while he spoke, the sovereign plant he drew<br/>
+Where on the all-bearing earth unmark&rsquo;d it grew,<br/>
+And show&rsquo;d its nature and its wondrous power:<br/>
+Black was the root, but milky white the flower;<br/>
+Moly the name, to mortals hard to find,<br/>
+But all is easy to the ethereal kind.<br/>
+This Hermes gave, then, gliding off the glade,<br/>
+Shot to Olympus from the woodland shade.<br/>
+While, full of thought, revolving fates to come,<br/>
+I speed my passage to the enchanted dome.<br/>
+Arrived, before the lofty gates I stay&rsquo;d;<br/>
+The lofty gates the goddess wide display&rsquo;d;<br/>
+She leads before, and to the feast invites;<br/>
+I follow sadly to the magic rites.<br/>
+Radiant with starry studs, a silver seat<br/>
+Received my limbs: a footstool eased my feet,<br/>
+She mix&rsquo;d the potion, fraudulent of soul;<br/>
+The poison mantled in the golden bowl.<br/>
+I took, and quaff&rsquo;d it, confident in heaven.<br/>
+Then waved the wand, and then the word was given.<br/>
+&lsquo;Hence to thy fellows! (dreadful she began:)<br/>
+Go, be a beast!&rsquo;&mdash;I heard, and yet was man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then, sudden whirling, like a waving flame,<br/>
+My beamy falchion, I assault the dame.<br/>
+Struck with unusual fear, she trembling cries,<br/>
+She faints, she falls; she lifts her weeping eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;What art thou? say! from whence, from whom you came?<br/>
+O more than human! tell thy race, thy name.<br/>
+Amazing strength, these poisons to sustain!<br/>
+Not mortal thou, nor mortal is thy brain.<br/>
+Or art thou he, the man to come (foretold<br/>
+By Hermes, powerful with the wand of gold),<br/>
+The man from Troy, who wander&rsquo;d ocean round;<br/>
+The man for wisdom&rsquo;s various arts renown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Ulysses? Oh! thy threatening fury cease;<br/>
+Sheathe thy bright sword, and join our hands in peace!<br/>
+Let mutual joys our mutual trust combine,<br/>
+And love, and love-born confidence, be thine.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;And how, dread Circe! (furious I rejoin)<br/>
+Can love, and love-born confidence, be mine,<br/>
+Beneath thy charms when my companions groan,<br/>
+Transform&rsquo;d to beasts, with accents not their own?<br/>
+O thou of fraudful heart, shall I be led<br/>
+To share thy feast-rites, or ascend thy bed;<br/>
+That, all unarm&rsquo;d, thy vengeance may have vent,<br/>
+And magic bind me, cold and impotent?<br/>
+Celestial as thou art, yet stand denied;<br/>
+Or swear that oath by which the gods are tied,<br/>
+Swear, in thy soul no latent frauds remain,<br/>
+Swear by the vow which never can be vain.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The goddess swore: then seized my hand, and led<br/>
+To the sweet transports of the genial bed.<br/>
+Ministrant to the queen, with busy care<br/>
+Four faithful handmaids the soft rites prepare;<br/>
+Nymphs sprung from fountains, or from shady woods,<br/>
+Or the fair offspring of the sacred floods.<br/>
+One o&rsquo;er the couches painted carpets threw,<br/>
+Whose purple lustre glow&rsquo;d against the view:<br/>
+White linen lay beneath. Another placed<br/>
+The silver stands, with golden flaskets graced:<br/>
+With dulcet beverage this the beaker crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Fair in the midst, with gilded cups around:<br/>
+That in the tripod o&rsquo;er the kindled pile<br/>
+The water pours; the bubbling waters boil;<br/>
+An ample vase receives the smoking wave;<br/>
+And, in the bath prepared, my limbs I lave:<br/>
+Reviving sweets repair the mind&rsquo;s decay,<br/>
+And take the painful sense of toil away.<br/>
+A vest and tunic o&rsquo;er me next she threw,<br/>
+Fresh from the bath, and dropping balmy dew;<br/>
+Then led and placed me on the sovereign seat,<br/>
+With carpets spread; a footstool at my feet.<br/>
+The golden ewer a nymph obsequious brings,<br/>
+Replenish&rsquo;d from the cool translucent springs;<br/>
+With copious water the bright vase supplies<br/>
+A silver laver of capacious size.<br/>
+I wash&rsquo;d. The table in fair order spread,<br/>
+They heap the glittering canisters with bread:<br/>
+Viands of various kinds allure the taste,<br/>
+Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!<br/>
+Circe in vain invites the feast to share;<br/>
+Absent I ponder, and absorb&rsquo;d in care;<br/>
+While scenes of woe rose anxious in my breast,<br/>
+The queen beheld me, and these words address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Why sits Ulysses silent and apart,<br/>
+Some hoard of grief close harbour&rsquo;d at his heart<br/>
+Untouch&rsquo;d before thee stand the cates divine,<br/>
+And unregarded laughs the rosy wine.<br/>
+Can yet a doubt or any dread remain,<br/>
+When sworn that oath which never can be vain?&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I answered: &lsquo;Goddess! human is my breast,<br/>
+By justice sway&rsquo;d, by tender pity press&rsquo;d:<br/>
+Ill fits it me, whose friends are sunk to beasts,<br/>
+To quaff thy bowls, or riot in thy feasts.<br/>
+Me would&rsquo;st thou please? for them thy cares employ,<br/>
+And them to me restore, and me to joy.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;With that she parted: in her potent hand<br/>
+She bore the virtue of the magic wand.<br/>
+Then, hastening to the sties, set wide the door,<br/>
+Urged forth, and drove the bristly herd before;<br/>
+Unwieldy, out they rush&rsquo;d with general cry,<br/>
+Enormous beasts, dishonest to the eye.<br/>
+Now touch&rsquo;d by counter-charms they change again,<br/>
+And stand majestic, and recall&rsquo;d to men.<br/>
+Those hairs of late that bristled every part,<br/>
+Fall off, miraculous effect of art!<br/>
+Till all the form in full proportion rise,<br/>
+More young, more large, more graceful to my eyes.<br/>
+They saw, they knew me, and with eager pace<br/>
+Clung to their master in a long embrace:<br/>
+Sad, pleasing sight! with tears each eye ran o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+And sobs of joy re-echoed through the bower;<br/>
+E&rsquo;en Circe wept, her adamantine heart<br/>
+Felt pity enter, and sustain&rsquo;d her part.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Son of Laertes! (then the queen began)<br/>
+Oh much-enduring, much experienced man!<br/>
+Haste to thy vessel on the sea-beat shore,<br/>
+Unload thy treasures, and the galley moor;<br/>
+Then bring thy friends, secure from future harms,<br/>
+And in our grottoes stow thy spoils and arms,&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She said. Obedient to her high command<br/>
+I quit the place, and hasten to the strand,<br/>
+My sad companions on the beach I found,<br/>
+Their wistful eyes in floods of sorrow drown&rsquo;d.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;As from fresh pastures and the dewy field<br/>
+(When loaded cribs their evening banquet yield)<br/>
+The lowing herds return; around them throng<br/>
+With leaps and bounds their late imprison&rsquo;d young,<br/>
+Rush to their mothers with unruly joy,<br/>
+And echoing hills return the tender cry:<br/>
+So round me press&rsquo;d, exulting at my sight,<br/>
+With cries and agonies of wild delight,<br/>
+The weeping sailors; nor less fierce their joy<br/>
+Than if return&rsquo;d to Ithaca from Troy.<br/>
+&lsquo;Ah master! ever honour&rsquo;d, ever dear!<br/>
+(These tender words on every side I hear)<br/>
+What other joy can equal thy return?<br/>
+Not that loved country for whose sight we mourn,<br/>
+The soil that nursed us, and that gave us breath:<br/>
+But ah! relate our lost companions&rsquo; death.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I answer&rsquo;d cheerful: &lsquo;Haste, your galley moor,<br/>
+And bring our treasures and our arms ashore:<br/>
+Those in yon hollow caverns let us lay,<br/>
+Then rise, and follow where I lead the way.<br/>
+Your fellows live; believe your eyes, and come<br/>
+To taste the joys of Circe&rsquo;s sacred dome.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;With ready speed the joyful crew obey:<br/>
+Alone Eurylochus persuades their stay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Whither (he cried), ah whither will ye run?<br/>
+Seek ye to meet those evils ye should shun?<br/>
+Will you the terrors of the dome explore,<br/>
+In swine to grovel, or in lions roar,<br/>
+Or wolf-like howl away the midnight hour<br/>
+In dreadful watch around the magic bower?<br/>
+Remember Cyclops, and his bloody deed;<br/>
+The leader&rsquo;s rashness made the soldiers bleed.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I heard incensed, and first resolved to speed<br/>
+My flying falchion at the rebel&rsquo;s head.<br/>
+Dear as he was, by ties of kindred bound,<br/>
+This hand had stretch&rsquo;d him breathless on the ground.<br/>
+But all at once my interposing train<br/>
+For mercy pleaded, nor could plead in vain.<br/>
+&lsquo;Leave here the man who dares his prince desert,<br/>
+Leave to repentance and his own sad heart,<br/>
+To guard the ship. Seek we the sacred shades<br/>
+Of Circe&rsquo;s palace, where Ulysses leads.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;This with one voice declared, the rising train<br/>
+Left the black vessel by the murmuring main.<br/>
+Shame touch&rsquo;d Eurylochus&rsquo; alter&rsquo;d breast:<br/>
+He fear&rsquo;d my threats, and follow&rsquo;d with the rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Meanwhile the goddess, with indulgent cares<br/>
+And social joys, the late transform&rsquo;d repairs;<br/>
+The bath, the feast, their fainting soul renews:<br/>
+Rich in refulgent robes, and dropping balmy dews:<br/>
+Brightening with joy, their eager eyes behold,<br/>
+Each other&rsquo;s face, and each his story told;<br/>
+Then gushing tears the narrative confound,<br/>
+And with their sobs the vaulted roof resound.<br/>
+When hush&rsquo;d their passion, thus the goddess cries:<br/>
+&lsquo;Ulysses, taught by labours to be wise,<br/>
+Let this short memory of grief suffice.<br/>
+To me are known the various woes ye bore.<br/>
+In storms by sea, in perils on the shore;<br/>
+Forget whatever was in Fortune&rsquo;s power,<br/>
+And share the pleasures of this genial hour.<br/>
+Such be your mind as ere ye left your coast,<br/>
+Or learn&rsquo;d to sorrow for a country lost.<br/>
+Exiles and wanderers now, where&rsquo;er ye go,<br/>
+Too faithful memory renews your woe:<br/>
+The cause removed, habitual griefs remain,<br/>
+And the soul saddens by the use of pain.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Her kind entreaty moved the general breast;<br/>
+Tired with long toil, we willing sunk to rest.<br/>
+We plied the banquet, and the bowl we crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Till the full circle of the year came round.<br/>
+But when the seasons following in their train,<br/>
+Brought back the months, the days, and hours again;<br/>
+As from a lethargy at once they rise,<br/>
+And urge their chief with animating cries:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Is this, Ulysses, our inglorious lot?<br/>
+And is the name of Ithaca forgot?<br/>
+Shall never the dear land in prospect rise,<br/>
+Or the loved palace glitter in our eyes?&rsquo;<br/>
+&ldquo;Melting I heard; yet till the sun&rsquo;s decline<br/>
+Prolong&rsquo;d the feast, and quaff&rsquo;d the rosy wine<br/>
+But when the shades came on at evening hour,<br/>
+And all lay slumbering in the dusky bower,<br/>
+I came a suppliant to fair Circe&rsquo;s bed,<br/>
+The tender moment seized, and thus I said:<br/>
+&lsquo;Be mindful, goddess! of thy promise made;<br/>
+Must sad Ulysses ever be delay&rsquo;d?<br/>
+Around their lord my sad companions mourn,<br/>
+Each breast beats homeward, anxious to return:<br/>
+If but a moment parted from thy eyes,<br/>
+Their tears flow round me, and my heart complies.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Go then (she cried), ah go! yet think, not I,<br/>
+Not Circe, but the Fates, your wish deny.<br/>
+Ah, hope not yet to breathe thy native air!<br/>
+Far other journey first demands thy care;<br/>
+To tread the uncomfortable paths beneath,<br/>
+And view the realms of darkness and of death.<br/>
+There seek the Theban bard, deprived of sight;<br/>
+Within, irradiate with prophetic light;<br/>
+To whom Persephone, entire and whole,<br/>
+Gave to retain the unseparated soul:<br/>
+The rest are forms, of empty ether made;<br/>
+Impassive semblance, and a flitting shade.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Struck at the word, my very heart was dead:<br/>
+Pensive I sate: my tears bedew&rsquo;d the bed:<br/>
+To hate the light and life my soul begun,<br/>
+And saw that all was grief beneath the sun:<br/>
+Composed at length the gushing tears suppress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And my toss&rsquo;d limbs now wearied into rest.<br/>
+&lsquo;How shall I tread (I cried), ah, Circe! say,<br/>
+The dark descent, and who shall guide the way?<br/>
+Can living eyes behold the realms below?<br/>
+What bark to waft me, and what wind to blow?&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Thy fated road (the magic power replied),<br/>
+Divine Ulysses! ask no mortal guide.<br/>
+Rear but the mast, the spacious sail display,<br/>
+The northern winds shall wing thee on thy way.<br/>
+Soon shalt thou reach old Ocean&rsquo;s utmost ends,<br/>
+Where to the main the shelving shore descends;<br/>
+The barren trees of Proserpine&rsquo;s black woods,<br/>
+Poplars and willows trembling o&rsquo;er the floods:<br/>
+There fix thy vessel in the lonely bay,<br/>
+And enter there the kingdoms void of day,<br/>
+Where Phlegethon&rsquo;s loud torrents, rushing down,<br/>
+Hiss in the flaming gulf of Acheron;<br/>
+And where, slow rolling from the Stygian bed,<br/>
+Cocytus&rsquo; lamentable waters spread:<br/>
+Where the dark rock o&rsquo;erhangs the infernal lake,<br/>
+And mingling streams eternal murmurs make.<br/>
+First draw thy falchion, and on every side<br/>
+Trench the black earth a cubit long and wide:<br/>
+To all the shades around libations pour,<br/>
+And o&rsquo;er the ingredients strew the hallow&rsquo;d flour:<br/>
+New wine and milk, with honey temper&rsquo;d bring,<br/>
+And living water from the crystal spring.<br/>
+Then the wan shades and feeble ghosts implore,<br/>
+With promised offerings on thy native shore;<br/>
+A barren cow, the stateliest of the isle,<br/>
+And heap&rsquo;d with various wealth, a blazing pile:<br/>
+These to the rest; but to the seer must bleed<br/>
+A sable ram, the pride of all thy breed.<br/>
+These solemn vows and holy offerings paid<br/>
+To all the phantom nations of the dead,<br/>
+Be next thy care the sable sheep to place<br/>
+Full o&rsquo;er the pit, and hellward turn their face:<br/>
+But from the infernal rite thine eye withdraw,<br/>
+And back to Ocean glance with reverend awe.<br/>
+Sudden shall skim along the dusky glades<br/>
+Thin airy shoals, and visionary shades.<br/>
+Then give command the sacrifice to haste,<br/>
+Let the flay&rsquo;d victims in the flame be cast,<br/>
+And sacred vows and mystic song applied<br/>
+To grisly Pluto and his gloomy bride.<br/>
+Wide o&rsquo;er the pool thy falchion waved around<br/>
+Shall drive the spectres from unbidden ground:<br/>
+The sacred draught shall all the dead forbear,<br/>
+Till awful from the shades arise the seer.<br/>
+Let him, oraculous, the end, the way,<br/>
+The turns of all thy future fate display,<br/>
+Thy pilgrimage to come, and remnant of thy day.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;So speaking, from the ruddy orient shone<br/>
+The morn, conspicuous on her golden throne.<br/>
+The goddess with a radiant tunic dress&rsquo;d<br/>
+My limbs, and o&rsquo;er me cast a silken vest.<br/>
+Long flowing robes, of purest white, array<br/>
+The nymph, that added lustre to the day:<br/>
+A tiar wreath&rsquo;d her head with many a fold;<br/>
+Her waist was circled with a zone of gold.<br/>
+Forth issuing then, from place to place I flew;<br/>
+Rouse man by man, and animate my crew.<br/>
+&lsquo;Rise, rise, my mates! &rsquo;tis Circe gives command:<br/>
+Our journey calls us; haste, and quit the land.&rsquo;<br/>
+All rise and follow, yet depart not all,<br/>
+For Fate decreed one wretched man to fall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A youth there was, Elpenor was he named,<br/>
+Not much for sense, nor much for courage famed:<br/>
+The youngest of our band, a vulgar soul,<br/>
+Born but to banquet, and to drain the bowl.<br/>
+He, hot and careless, on a turret&rsquo;s height<br/>
+With sleep repair&rsquo;d the long debauch of night:<br/>
+The sudden tumult stirred him where he lay,<br/>
+And down he hasten&rsquo;d, but forgot the way;<br/>
+Full headlong from the roof the sleeper fell,<br/>
+And snapp&rsquo;d the spinal joint, and waked in hell.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The rest crowd round me with an eager look;<br/>
+I met them with a sigh, and thus bespoke:<br/>
+&lsquo;Already, friends! ye think your toils are o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+Your hopes already touch your native shore:<br/>
+Alas! far otherwise the nymph declares,<br/>
+Far other journey first demands our cares;<br/>
+To tread the uncomfortable paths beneath,<br/>
+The dreary realms of darkness and of death;<br/>
+To seek Tiresias&rsquo; awful shade below,<br/>
+And thence our fortunes and our fates to know.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My sad companions heard in deep despair;<br/>
+Frantic they tore their manly growth of hair;<br/>
+To earth they fell: the tears began to rain;<br/>
+But tears in mortal miseries are vain,<br/>
+Sadly they fared along the sea-beat shore;<br/>
+Still heaved their hearts, and still their eyes ran o&rsquo;er.<br/>
+The ready victims at our bark we found,<br/>
+The sable ewe and ram together bound.<br/>
+For swift as thought the goddess had been there,<br/>
+And thence had glided, viewless as the air:<br/>
+The paths of gods what mortal can survey?<br/>
+Who eyes their motion? who shall trace their way?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap11"></a>BOOK XI.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE DESCENT INTO HELL.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Ulysses continues his narration. How he arrived at the land of the Cimmerians,
+and what ceremonies he performed to invoke the dead. The manner of his descent,
+and the apparition of the shades: his conversation with Elpenor, and with
+Tiresias, who informs him in a prophetic manner of his fortunes to come. He
+meets his mother Anticlea, from whom he learns the state of his family. He sees
+the shades of the ancient heroines, afterwards of the heroes, and converses in
+particular with Agamemnon and Achilles. Ajax keeps at a sullen distance, and
+disdains to answer him. He then beholds Tityus, Tantalus, Sisyphus, Hercules;
+till he is deterred from further curiosity by the apparition of horrid
+spectres, and the cries of the wicked in torments.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+&ldquo;Now to the shores we bend, a mournful train,<br/>
+Climb the tall bark, and launch into the main;<br/>
+At once the mast we rear, at once unbind<br/>
+The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind;<br/>
+Then pale and pensive stand, with cares oppress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And solemn horror saddens every breast.<br/>
+A freshening breeze the magic power supplied,<br/>
+While the wing&rsquo;d vessel flew along the tide;<br/>
+Our oars we shipp&rsquo;d; all day the swelling sails<br/>
+Full from the guiding pilot catch&rsquo;d the gales.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now sunk the sun from his aërial height,<br/>
+And o&rsquo;er the shaded billows rush&rsquo;d the night;<br/>
+When lo! we reach&rsquo;d old Ocean&rsquo;s utmost bounds,<br/>
+Where rocks control his waves with ever-during mounds.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There in a lonely land, and gloomy cells,<br/>
+The dusky nation of Cimmeria dwells;<br/>
+The sun ne&rsquo;er views the uncomfortable seats,<br/>
+When radiant he advances, or retreats:<br/>
+Unhappy race! whom endless night invades,<br/>
+Clouds the dull air, and wraps them round in shades.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The ship we moor on these obscure abodes;<br/>
+Disbark the sheep, an offering to the gods;<br/>
+And, hellward bending, o&rsquo;er the beach descry<br/>
+The doleful passage to the infernal sky.<br/>
+The victims, vow&rsquo;d to each Tartarian power,<br/>
+Eurylochus and Perimedes bore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here open&rsquo;d hell, all hell I here implored,<br/>
+And from the scabbard drew the shining sword:<br/>
+And trenching the black earth on every side,<br/>
+A cavern form&rsquo;d, a cubit long and wide.<br/>
+New wine, with honey-temper&rsquo;d milk, we bring,<br/>
+Then living waters from the crystal spring:<br/>
+O&rsquo;er these was strew&rsquo;d the consecrated flour,<br/>
+And on the surface shone the holy store.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now the wan shades we hail, the infernal gods,<br/>
+To speed our course, and waft us o&rsquo;er the floods:<br/>
+So shall a barren heifer from the stall<br/>
+Beneath the knife upon your altars fall;<br/>
+So in our palace, at our safe return,<br/>
+Rich with unnumber&rsquo;d gifts the pile shall burn;<br/>
+So shall a ram, the largest of the breed,<br/>
+Black as these regions, to Tiresias bleed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus solemn rites and holy vows we paid<br/>
+To all the phantom-nations of the dead;<br/>
+Then died the sheep: a purple torrent flow&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And all the caverns smoked with streaming blood.<br/>
+When lo! appear&rsquo;d along the dusky coasts,<br/>
+Thin, airy shoals of visionary ghosts:<br/>
+Fair, pensive youths, and soft enamour&rsquo;d maids;<br/>
+And wither&rsquo;d elders, pale and wrinkled shades;<br/>
+Ghastly with wounds the forms of warriors slain<br/>
+Stalk&rsquo;d with majestic port, a martial train:<br/>
+These and a thousand more swarm&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er the ground,<br/>
+And all the dire assembly shriek&rsquo;d around.<br/>
+Astonish&rsquo;d at the sight, aghast I stood,<br/>
+And a cold fear ran shivering through my blood;<br/>
+Straight I command the sacrifice to haste,<br/>
+Straight the flay&rsquo;d victims to the flames are cast,<br/>
+And mutter&rsquo;d vows, and mystic song applied<br/>
+To grisly Pluto, and his gloomy bride.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now swift I waved my falchion o&rsquo;er the blood;<br/>
+Back started the pale throngs, and trembling stood,<br/>
+Round the black trench the gore untasted flows,<br/>
+Till awful from the shades Tiresias rose.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There wandering through the gloom I first survey&rsquo;d,<br/>
+New to the realms of death, Elpenor&rsquo;s shade:<br/>
+His cold remains all naked to the sky<br/>
+On distant shores unwept, unburied lie.<br/>
+Sad at the sight I stand, deep fix&rsquo;d in woe,<br/>
+And ere I spoke the tears began to flow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;O say what angry power Elpenor led<br/>
+To glide in shades, and wander with the dead?<br/>
+How could thy soul, by realms and seas disjoin&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Outfly the nimble sail, and leave the lagging wind?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The ghost replied: &lsquo;To hell my doom I owe,<br/>
+Demons accursed, dire ministers of woe!<br/>
+My feet, through wine unfaithful to their weight,<br/>
+Betray&rsquo;d me tumbling from a towery height:<br/>
+Staggering I reel&rsquo;d, and as I reel&rsquo;d I fell,<br/>
+Lux&rsquo;d the neck-joint&mdash;my soul descends to hell.<br/>
+But lend me aid, I now conjure thee lend,<br/>
+By the soft tie and sacred name of friend!<br/>
+By thy fond consort! by thy father&rsquo;s cares!<br/>
+By loved Telemachus&rsquo; blooming years?<br/>
+For well I know that soon the heavenly powers<br/>
+Will give thee back to-day, and Circe&rsquo;s shores:<br/>
+There pious on my cold remains attend,<br/>
+There call to mind thy poor departed friend.<br/>
+The tribute of a tear is all I crave,<br/>
+And the possession of a peaceful grave.<br/>
+But if, unheard, in vain compassion plead,<br/>
+Revere the gods. The gods avenge the dead!<br/>
+A tomb along the watery margin raise,<br/>
+The tomb with manly arms and trophies grace,<br/>
+To show posterity Elpenor was.<br/>
+There high in air, memorial of my name,<br/>
+Fix the smooth oar, and bid me live to fame.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;To whom with tears: &lsquo;These rites, O mournful shade,<br/>
+Due to thy ghost, shall to thy ghost be paid.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Still as I spoke the phantom seem&rsquo;d to moan,<br/>
+Tear follow&rsquo;d tear, and groan succeeded groan.<br/>
+But, as my waving sword the blood surrounds,<br/>
+The shade withdrew, and mutter&rsquo;d empty sounds.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There as the wondrous visions I survey&rsquo;d,<br/>
+All pale ascends my royal mother&rsquo;s shade:<br/>
+A queen, to Troy she saw our legions pass;<br/>
+Now a thin form is all Anticlea was!<br/>
+Struck at the sight I melt with filial woe,<br/>
+And down my cheek the pious sorrows flow,<br/>
+Yet as I shook my falchion o&rsquo;er the blood,<br/>
+Regardless of her son the parent stood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;When lo! the mighty Theban I behold,<br/>
+To guide his steps he bore a staff of gold;<br/>
+Awful he trod; majestic was his look!<br/>
+And from his holy lips these accents broke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Why, mortal, wanderest thou from cheerful day,<br/>
+To tread the downward, melancholy way?<br/>
+What angry gods to these dark regions led<br/>
+Thee, yet alive, companion of the dead?<br/>
+But sheathe thy poniard, while my tongue relates<br/>
+Heaven&rsquo;s steadfast purpose, and thy future fates.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;While yet he spoke, the prophet I obey&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And in the scabbard plunged the glittering blade:<br/>
+Eager he quaff&rsquo;d the gore, and then express&rsquo;d<br/>
+Dark things to come, the counsels of his breast.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Weary of light, Ulysses here explores<br/>
+A prosperous voyage to his native shores;<br/>
+But know&mdash;by me unerring Fates disclose<br/>
+New trains of dangers, and new scenes of woes.<br/>
+I see, I see, thy bark by Neptune toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+For injured Cyclops, and his eyeball lost!<br/>
+Yet to thy woes the gods decree an end,<br/>
+If Heaven thou please: and how to please attend<br/>
+Where on Trinacrian rocks the ocean roars,<br/>
+Graze numerous herds along the verdant shores;<br/>
+Though hunger press, yet fly the dangerous prey,<br/>
+The herds are sacred to the god of day,<br/>
+Who all surveys with his extensive eye,<br/>
+Above, below, on earth, and in the sky!<br/>
+Rob not the god; and so propitious gales<br/>
+Attend thy voyage, and impel thy sails:<br/>
+But, if his herds ye seize, beneath the waves<br/>
+I see thy friends o&rsquo;erwhelm&rsquo;d in liquid graves!<br/>
+The direful wreck Ulysses scarce survives!<br/>
+Ulysses at his country scarce arrives!<br/>
+Strangers thy guides! nor there thy labours end;<br/>
+New foes arise; domestic ills attend!<br/>
+There foul adulterers to thy bride resort,<br/>
+And lordly gluttons riot in thy court.<br/>
+But vengeance hastes amain! These eyes behold<br/>
+The deathful scene, princes on princes roll&rsquo;d!<br/>
+That done, a people far from sea explore,<br/>
+Who ne&rsquo;er knew salt, or heard the billows roar,<br/>
+Or saw gay vessel stem the watery plain,<br/>
+A painted wonder flying on the main!<br/>
+Bear on thy back an oar: with strange amaze<br/>
+A shepherd meeting thee, the oar surveys,<br/>
+And names a van: there fix it on the plain,<br/>
+To calm the god that holds the watery reign;<br/>
+A threefold offering to his altar bring,<br/>
+A bull, a ram, a boar; and hail the ocean king.<br/>
+But home return&rsquo;d, to each ethereal power<br/>
+Slay the due victim in the genial hour:<br/>
+So peaceful shalt thou end thy blissful days,<br/>
+And steal thyself from life by slow decays:<br/>
+Unknown to pain, in age resign thy breath,<br/>
+When late stern Neptune points the shaft with death:<br/>
+To the dark grave retiring as to rest,<br/>
+Thy people blessing, by thy people bless&rsquo;d!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Unerring truths, O man, my lips relate;<br/>
+This is thy life to come, and this is fate.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;To whom unmoved: &lsquo;If this the gods prepare,<br/>
+What Heaven ordains the wise with courage bear.<br/>
+But say, why yonder on the lonely strands,<br/>
+Unmindful of her son, Anticlea stands?<br/>
+Why to the ground she bends her downcast eye?<br/>
+Why is she silent, while her son is nigh?<br/>
+The latent cause, O sacred seer, reveal!&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Nor this (replies the seer) will I conceal.<br/>
+Know, to the spectres that thy beverage taste,<br/>
+The scenes of life recur, and actions past:<br/>
+They, seal&rsquo;d with truth, return the sure reply;<br/>
+The rest, repell&rsquo;d, a train oblivious fly.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The phantom-prophet ceased, and sunk from sight,<br/>
+To the black palace of eternal night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Still in the dark abodes of death I stood,<br/>
+When near Anticlea moved, and drank the blood.<br/>
+Straight all the mother in her soul awakes,<br/>
+And, owning her Ulysses, thus she speaks;<br/>
+&lsquo;Comest thou, my son, alive, to realms beneath,<br/>
+The dolesome realms of darkness and of death!<br/>
+Comest thou alive from pure, ethereal day?<br/>
+Dire is the region, dismal is the way!<br/>
+Here lakes profound, there floods oppose their waves,<br/>
+There the wide sea with all his billows raves!<br/>
+Or (since to dust proud Troy submits her towers)<br/>
+Comest thou a wanderer from the Phrygian shores?<br/>
+Or say, since honour call&rsquo;d thee to the field,<br/>
+Hast thou thy Ithaca, thy bride, beheld?&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Source of my life,&rsquo; I cried, &lsquo;from earth I fly<br/>
+To seek Tiresias in the nether sky,<br/>
+To learn my doom; for, toss&rsquo;d from woe to woe,<br/>
+In every land Ulysses finds a foe:<br/>
+Nor have these eyes beheld my native shores,<br/>
+Since in the dust proud Troy submits her towers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;But, when thy soul from her sweet mansion fled,<br/>
+Say, what distemper gave thee to the dead?<br/>
+Has life&rsquo;s fair lamp declined by slow decays,<br/>
+Or swift expired it in a sudden blaze?<br/>
+Say, if my sire, good old Laertes, lives?<br/>
+If yet Telemachus, my son, survives?<br/>
+Say, by his rule is my dominion awed,<br/>
+Or crush&rsquo;d by traitors with an iron rod?<br/>
+Say, if my spouse maintains her royal trust;<br/>
+Though tempted, chaste, and obstinately just?<br/>
+Or if no more her absent lord she wails,<br/>
+But the false woman o&rsquo;er the wife prevails?&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus I, and thus the parent-shade returns:<br/>
+&lsquo;Thee, ever thee, thy faithful consort mourns:<br/>
+Whether the night descends or day prevails,<br/>
+Thee she by night, and thee by day bewails.<br/>
+Thee in Telemachus thy realm obeys;<br/>
+In sacred groves celestial rites he pays,<br/>
+And shares the banquet in superior state,<br/>
+Graced with such honours as become the great<br/>
+Thy sire in solitude foments his care:<br/>
+The court is joyless, for thou art not there!<br/>
+No costly carpets raise his hoary head,<br/>
+No rich embroidery shines to grace his bed;<br/>
+Even when keen winter freezes in the skies,<br/>
+Rank&rsquo;d with his slaves, on earth the monarch lies:<br/>
+Deep are his sighs, his visage pale, his dress<br/>
+The garb of woe and habit of distress.<br/>
+And when the autumn takes his annual round,<br/>
+The leafy honours scattering on the ground,<br/>
+Regardless of his years, abroad he lies,<br/>
+His bed the leaves, his canopy the skies.<br/>
+Thus cares on cares his painful days consume,<br/>
+And bow his age with sorrow to the tomb!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;For thee, my son, I wept my life away;<br/>
+For thee through hell&rsquo;s eternal dungeons stray:<br/>
+Nor came my fate by lingering pains and slow,<br/>
+Nor bent the silver-shafted queen her bow;<br/>
+No dire disease bereaved me of my breath;<br/>
+Thou, thou, my son, wert my disease and death;<br/>
+Unkindly with my love my son conspired,<br/>
+For thee I lived, for absent thee expired.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thrice in my arms I strove her shade to bind,<br/>
+Thrice through my arms she slipp&rsquo;d like empty wind,<br/>
+Or dreams, the vain illusions of the mind.<br/>
+Wild with despair, I shed a copious tide<br/>
+Of flowing tears, and thus with sighs replied:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Fliest thou, loved shade, while I thus fondly mourn!<br/>
+Turn to my arms, to my embraces turn!<br/>
+Is it, ye powers that smile at human harms!<br/>
+Too great a bliss to weep within her arms?<br/>
+Or has hell&rsquo;s queen an empty image sent,<br/>
+That wretched I might e&rsquo;en my joys lament?&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;O son of woe,&rsquo; the pensive shade rejoin&rsquo;d;<br/>
+&lsquo;O most inured to grief of all mankind!<br/>
+&lsquo;Tis not the queen of hell who thee deceives;<br/>
+All, all are such, when life the body leaves:<br/>
+No more the substance of the man remains,<br/>
+Nor bounds the blood along the purple veins:<br/>
+These the funereal flames in atoms bear,<br/>
+To wander with the wind in empty air:<br/>
+While the impassive soul reluctant flies,<br/>
+Like a vain dream, to these infernal skies.<br/>
+But from the dark dominions speed the way,<br/>
+And climb the steep ascent to upper day:<br/>
+To thy chaste bride the wondrous story tell,<br/>
+The woes, the horrors, and the laws of hell.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus while she spoke, in swarms hell&rsquo;s empress brings<br/>
+Daughters and wives of heroes and of kings;<br/>
+Thick and more thick they gather round the blood,<br/>
+Ghost thronged on ghost (a dire assembly) stood!<br/>
+Dauntless my sword I seize: the airy crew,<br/>
+Swift as it flash&rsquo;d along the gloom, withdrew;<br/>
+Then shade to shade in mutual forms succeeds,<br/>
+Her race recounts, and their illustrious deeds.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tyro began, whom great Salmoneus bred;<br/>
+The royal partner of famed Cretheus&rsquo; bed.<br/>
+For fair Enipeus, as from fruitful urns<br/>
+He pours his watery store, the virgin burns;<br/>
+Smooth flows the gentle stream with wanton pride,<br/>
+And in soft mazes rolls a silver tide.<br/>
+As on his banks the maid enamour&rsquo;d roves,<br/>
+The monarch of the deep beholds and loves;<br/>
+In her Enipeus&rsquo; form and borrow&rsquo;d charms<br/>
+The amorous god descends into her arms:<br/>
+Around, a spacious arch of waves he throws,<br/>
+And high in air the liquid mountain rose;<br/>
+Thus in surrounding floods conceal&rsquo;d, he proves<br/>
+The pleasing transport, and completes his loves.<br/>
+Then, softly sighing, he the fair address&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And as he spoke her tender hand he press&rsquo;d.<br/>
+&lsquo;Hail, happy nymph! no vulgar births are owed<br/>
+To the prolific raptures of a god:<br/>
+Lo! when nine times the moon renews her horn,<br/>
+Two brother heroes shall from thee be born;<br/>
+Thy early care the future worthies claim,<br/>
+To point them to the arduous paths of fame;<br/>
+But in thy breast the important truth conceal,<br/>
+Nor dare the secret of a god reveal:<br/>
+For know, thou Neptune view&rsquo;st! and at my nod<br/>
+Earth trembles, and the waves confess their god.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He added not, but mounting spurn&rsquo;d the plain,<br/>
+Then plunged into the chambers of the main,
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now in the time&rsquo;s full process forth she brings<br/>
+Jove&rsquo;s dread vicegerents in two future kings;<br/>
+O&rsquo;er proud Iolcos Pelias stretch&rsquo;d his reign,<br/>
+And godlike Neleus ruled the Pylian plain:<br/>
+Then, fruitful, to her Cretheus&rsquo; royal bed<br/>
+She gallant Pheres and famed Aeson bred;<br/>
+From the same fountain Amythaon rose,<br/>
+Pleased with the din of scar; and noble shout of foes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There moved Antiope, with haughty charms,<br/>
+Who bless&rsquo;d the almighty Thunderer in her arms:<br/>
+Hence sprung Amphion, hence brave Zethus came,<br/>
+Founders of Thebes, and men of mighty name;<br/>
+Though bold in open field, they yet surround<br/>
+The town with walls, and mound inject on mound;<br/>
+Here ramparts stood, there towers rose high in air,<br/>
+And here through seven wide portals rush&rsquo;d the war.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There with soft step the fair Alcmena trod,<br/>
+Who bore Alcides to the thundering god:<br/>
+And Megara, who charm&rsquo;d the son of Jove,<br/>
+And soften&rsquo;d his stern soul to tender love.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sullen and sour, with discontented mien,<br/>
+Jocasta frown&rsquo;d, the incestuous Theban queen;<br/>
+With her own son she join&rsquo;d in nuptial bands,<br/>
+Though father&rsquo;s blood imbrued his murderous hands<br/>
+The gods and men the dire offence detest,<br/>
+The gods with all their furies rend his breast;<br/>
+In lofty Thebes he wore the imperial crown,<br/>
+A pompous wretch! accursed upon a throne.<br/>
+The wife self-murder&rsquo;d from a beam depends,<br/>
+And her foul soul to blackest hell descends;<br/>
+Thence to her son the choicest plagues she brings,<br/>
+And the fiends haunt him with a thousand stings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now the beauteous Chloris I descry,<br/>
+A lovely shade, Amphion&rsquo;s youngest joy!<br/>
+With gifts unnumber&rsquo;d Neleus sought her arms,<br/>
+Nor paid too dearly for unequall&rsquo;d charms;<br/>
+Great in Orchomenos, in Pylos great,<br/>
+He sway&rsquo;d the sceptre with imperial state.<br/>
+Three gallant sons the joyful monarch told,<br/>
+Sage Nestor, Periclimenus the bold,<br/>
+And Chromius last; but of the softer race,<br/>
+One nymph alone, a myracle of grace.<br/>
+Kings on their thrones for lovely Pero burn;<br/>
+The sire denies, and kings rejected mourn.<br/>
+To him alone the beauteous prize he yields,<br/>
+Whose arm should ravish from Phylacian fields<br/>
+The herds of Iphyclus, detain&rsquo;d in wrong;<br/>
+Wild, furious herds, unconquerably strong!<br/>
+This dares a seer, but nought the seer prevails,<br/>
+In beauty&rsquo;s cause illustriously he fails;<br/>
+Twelve moons the foe the captive youth detains<br/>
+In painful dungeons, and coercive chains;<br/>
+The foe at last from durance where he lay,<br/>
+His heart revering, give him back to day;<br/>
+Won by prophetic knowledge, to fulfil<br/>
+The steadfast purpose of the Almighty will.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;With graceful port advancing now I spied,<br/>
+Leda the fair, the godlike Tyndar&rsquo;s bride:<br/>
+Hence Pollux sprung, who wields the furious sway<br/>
+The deathful gauntlet, matchless in the fray;<br/>
+And Castor, glorious on the embattled plain,<br/>
+Curbs the proud steeds, reluctant to the rein:<br/>
+By turns they visit this ethereal sky,<br/>
+And live alternate, and alternate die:<br/>
+In hell beneath, on earth, in heaven above,<br/>
+Reign the twin-gods, the favourite sons of Jove.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There Ephimedia trod the gloomy plain,<br/>
+Who charm&rsquo;d the monarch of the boundless main:<br/>
+Hence Ephialtes, hence stern Otus sprung,<br/>
+More fierce than giants, more than giants strong;<br/>
+The earth o&rsquo;erburden&rsquo;d groan&rsquo;d beneath their weight,<br/>
+None but Orion e&rsquo;er surpassed their height:<br/>
+The wondrous youths had scarce nine winters told,<br/>
+When high in air, tremendous to behold,<br/>
+Nine ells aloft they rear&rsquo;d their towering head,<br/>
+And full nine cubits broad their shoulders spread.<br/>
+Proud of their strength, and more than mortal size,<br/>
+The gods they challenge, and affect the skies:<br/>
+Heaved on Olympus tottering Ossa stood;<br/>
+On Ossa, Pelion nods with all his wood.<br/>
+Such were they youths! had they to manhood grown<br/>
+Almighty Jove had trembled on his throne,<br/>
+But ere the harvest of the beard began<br/>
+To bristle on the chin, and promise man,<br/>
+His shafts Apollo aim&rsquo;d; at once they sound,<br/>
+And stretch the giant monsters o&rsquo;er the ground.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There mournful Phaedra with sad Procris moves,<br/>
+Both beauteous shades, both hapless in their loves;<br/>
+And near them walk&rsquo;d with solemn pace and slow,<br/>
+Sad Adriadne, partner of their woe:<br/>
+The royal Minos Ariadne bred,<br/>
+She Theseus loved, from Crete with Theseus fled:<br/>
+Swift to the Dian isle the hero flies,<br/>
+And towards his Athens bears the lovely prize;<br/>
+There Bacchus with fierce rage Diana fires,<br/>
+The goddess aims her shaft, the nymph expires.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There Clymene and Mera I behold,<br/>
+There Eriphyle weeps, who loosely sold<br/>
+Her lord, her honour, for the lust of gold.<br/>
+But should I all recount, the night would fail,<br/>
+Unequal to the melancholy tale:<br/>
+And all-composing rest my nature craves,<br/>
+Here in the court, or yonder on the waves;<br/>
+In you I trust, and in the heavenly powers,<br/>
+To land Ulysses on his native shores.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He ceased; but left so charming on their ear<br/>
+His voice, that listening still they seem&rsquo;d to hear,<br/>
+Till, rising up, Arete silence broke,<br/>
+Stretch&rsquo;d out her snowy hand, and thus she spoke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What wondrous man heaven sends us in our guest;<br/>
+Through all his woes the hero shines confess&rsquo;d;<br/>
+His comely port, his ample frame express<br/>
+A manly air, majestic in distress.<br/>
+He, as my guest, is my peculiar care:<br/>
+You share the pleasure, then in bounty share<br/>
+To worth in misery a reverence pay,<br/>
+And with a generous hand reward his stay;<br/>
+For since kind heaven with wealth our realm has bless&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Give it to heaven by aiding the distress&rsquo;d.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then sage Echeneus, whose grave reverend brow<br/>
+The hand of time had silvered o&rsquo;er with snow,<br/>
+Mature in wisdom rose: &ldquo;Your words (he cries)<br/>
+Demand obedience, for your words are wise.<br/>
+But let our king direct the glorious way<br/>
+To generous acts; our part is to obey.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;While life informs these limbs (the king replied),<br/>
+Well to deserve, be all my cares employed:<br/>
+But here this night the royal guest detain,<br/>
+Till the sun flames along the ethereal plain.<br/>
+Be it my task to send with ample stores<br/>
+The stranger from our hospitable shores:<br/>
+Tread you my steps! &rsquo;Tis mine to lead the race,<br/>
+The first in glory, as the first in place.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the prince: &ldquo;This night with joy I stay<br/>
+O monarch great in virtue as in sway!<br/>
+If thou the circling year my stay control,<br/>
+To raise a bounty noble as thy soul;<br/>
+The circling year I wait, with ampler stores<br/>
+And fitter pomp to hail my native shores:<br/>
+Then by my realms due homage would be paid;<br/>
+For wealthy kings are loyally obeyed!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O king! for such thou art, and sure thy blood<br/>
+Through veins (he cried) of royal fathers flow&rsquo;d:<br/>
+Unlike those vagrants who on falsehood live,<br/>
+Skill&rsquo;d in smooth tales, and artful to deceive;<br/>
+Thy better soul abhors the liar&rsquo;s part,<br/>
+Wise is thy voice, and noble is thy heart.<br/>
+Thy words like music every breast control,<br/>
+Steal through the ear, and win upon the soul;<br/>
+Soft, as some song divine, thy story flows,<br/>
+Nor better could the Muse record thy woes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But say, upon the dark and dismal coast,<br/>
+Saw&rsquo;st thou the worthies of the Grecian host?<br/>
+The godlike leaders who, in battle slain,<br/>
+Fell before Troy, and nobly press&rsquo;d the plain?<br/>
+And lo! a length of night behind remains,<br/>
+The evening stars still mount the ethereal plains.<br/>
+Thy tale with raptures I could hear thee tell,<br/>
+Thy woes on earth, the wondrous scenes in hell,<br/>
+Till in the vault of heaven the stars decay.<br/>
+And the sky reddens with the rising day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O worthy of the power the gods assign&rsquo;d<br/>
+(Ulysses thus replies), a king in mind:<br/>
+Since yet the early hour of night allows<br/>
+Time for discourse, and time for soft repose,<br/>
+If scenes of misery can entertain,<br/>
+Woes I unfold, of woes a dismal train.<br/>
+Prepare to hear of murder and of blood;<br/>
+Of godlike heroes who uninjured stood<br/>
+Amidst a war of spears in foreign lands,<br/>
+Yet bled at home, and bled by female hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now summon&rsquo;d Proserpine to hell&rsquo;s black hall<br/>
+The heroine shades: they vanish&rsquo;d at her call.<br/>
+When lo! advanced the forms of heroes slain<br/>
+By stern AEgysthus, a majestic train:<br/>
+And, high above the rest Atrides press&rsquo;d the plain.<br/>
+He quaff&rsquo;d the gore; and straight his soldier knew,<br/>
+And from his eyes pour&rsquo;d down the tender dew:<br/>
+His arms he stretch&rsquo;d; his arms the touch deceive,<br/>
+Nor in the fond embrace, embraces give:<br/>
+His substance vanish&rsquo;d, and his strength decay&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Now all Atrides is an empty shade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Moved at the sight, I for a apace resign&rsquo;d<br/>
+To soft affliction all my manly mind;<br/>
+At last with tears: &lsquo;O what relentless doom,<br/>
+Imperial phantom, bow&rsquo;d thee to the tomb?<br/>
+Say while the sea, and while the tempest raves,<br/>
+Has Fate oppress&rsquo;d thee in the roaring waves,<br/>
+Or nobly seized thee in the dire alarms<br/>
+Of war and slaughter, and the clash of arms?&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The ghost returns: &lsquo;O chief of human kind<br/>
+For active courage and a patient mind;<br/>
+Nor while the sea, nor while the tempest raves<br/>
+Has Fate oppress&rsquo;d me on the roaring waves!<br/>
+Nor nobly seized me in the dire alarms<br/>
+Of war and slaughter, and the clash of arms<br/>
+Stabb&rsquo;d by a murderous hand Atrides died,<br/>
+A foul adulterer, and a faithless bride;<br/>
+E&rsquo;en in my mirth, and at the friendly feast,<br/>
+O&rsquo;er the full bowl, the traitor stabb&rsquo;d his guest;<br/>
+Thus by the gory arm of slaughter falls<br/>
+The stately ox, and bleeds within the stalls.<br/>
+But not with me the direful murder ends,<br/>
+These, these expired! their crime, they were my friends:<br/>
+Thick as the boars, which some luxurious lord<br/>
+Kills for the feast, to crown the nuptial board.<br/>
+When war has thunder&rsquo;d with its loudest storms,<br/>
+Death thou hast seen in all her ghastly forms:<br/>
+In duel met her on the listed ground,<br/>
+When hand to hand they wound return for wound;<br/>
+But never have the eyes astonish&rsquo;d view&rsquo;d<br/>
+So vile a deed, so dire a scene of blood.<br/>
+E&rsquo;en in the flow of joy, when now the bowl<br/>
+Glows in our veins, and opens every soul,<br/>
+We groan, we faint; with blood the doom is dyed.<br/>
+And o&rsquo;er the pavement floats the dreadful tide&mdash;<br/>
+Her breast all gore, with lamentable cries,<br/>
+The bleeding innocent Cassandra dies!<br/>
+Then though pale death froze cold in every vein,<br/>
+My sword I strive to wield, but strive in vain;<br/>
+Nor did my traitress wife these eyelids close,<br/>
+Or decently in death my limbs compose.<br/>
+O woman, woman, when to ill thy mind<br/>
+Is bent, all hell contains no fouler fiend:<br/>
+And such was mine! who basely plunged her sword<br/>
+Through the fond bosom where she reign&rsquo;d adored!<br/>
+Alas! I hoped the toils of war o&rsquo;ercome,<br/>
+To meet soft quiet and repose at home;<br/>
+Delusive hope! O wife, thy deeds disgrace<br/>
+The perjured sex, and blacken all the race;<br/>
+And should posterity one virtuous find,<br/>
+Name Clytemnestra, they will curse the kind.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh injured shade (I cried) what mighty woes<br/>
+To thy imperial race from woman rose!<br/>
+By woman here thou tread&rsquo;st this mournful strand,<br/>
+And Greece by woman lies a desert land.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Warn&rsquo;d by my ills beware, (the shade replies,)<br/>
+Nor trust the sex that is so rarely wise;<br/>
+When earnest to explore thy secret breast,<br/>
+Unfold some trifle, but conceal the rest.<br/>
+But in thy consort cease to fear a foe,<br/>
+For thee she feels sincerity of woe;<br/>
+When Troy first bled beneath the Grecian arms,<br/>
+She shone unrivall&rsquo;d with a blaze of charms;<br/>
+Thy infant son her fragrant bosom press&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Hung at her knee, or wanton&rsquo;d at her breast;<br/>
+But now the years a numerous train have ran;<br/>
+The blooming boy is ripen&rsquo;d into man;<br/>
+Thy eyes shall see him burn with noble fire,<br/>
+The sire shall bless his son, the son his sire;<br/>
+But my Orestes never met these eyes,<br/>
+Without one look the murder&rsquo;d father dies;<br/>
+Then from a wretched friend this wisdom learn,<br/>
+E&rsquo;en to thy queen disguised, unknown, return;<br/>
+For since of womankind so few are just,<br/>
+Think all are false, nor e&rsquo;en the faithful trust.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;But, say, resides my son in royal port,<br/>
+In rich Orchomenos, or Sparta&rsquo;s court?<br/>
+Or say in Pyle? for yet he views the light,<br/>
+Nor glides a phantom through the realms of night.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then I: &lsquo;Thy suit is vain, nor can I say<br/>
+If yet he breathes in realms of cheerful day;<br/>
+Or pale or wan beholds these nether skies;<br/>
+Truth I revere; for wisdom never lies.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus in a tide of tears our sorrows flow,<br/>
+And add new horror to the realms of woe;<br/>
+Till side by side along the dreary coast<br/>
+Advanced Achilles&rsquo; and Patroclus&rsquo; ghost,<br/>
+A friendly pair! near these the Pylian stray&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And towering Ajax, an illustrious shade!<br/>
+War was his joy, and pleased with loud alarms,<br/>
+None but Pelides brighter shone in arms.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Through the thick gloom his friend Achilles knew,<br/>
+And as he speaks the tears descend in dew.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Comest thou alive to view the Stygian bounds,<br/>
+Where the wan spectres walk eternal rounds;<br/>
+Nor fear&rsquo;st the dark and dismal waste to tread,<br/>
+Throng&rsquo;d with pale ghosts, familiar with the dead?&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;To whom with sighs: &lsquo;I pass these dreadful gates<br/>
+To seek the Theban, and consult the Fates;<br/>
+For still, distress&rsquo;d, I rove from coast to coast,<br/>
+Lost to my friends, and to my country lost.<br/>
+But sure the eye of Time beholds no name<br/>
+So bless&rsquo;d as thine in all the rolls of fame;<br/>
+Alive we hail&rsquo;d thee with our guardian gods,<br/>
+And dead thou rulest a king in these abodes.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Talk not of ruling in this dolorous gloom,<br/>
+Nor think vain words (he cried) can ease my doom.<br/>
+Rather I&rsquo;d choose laboriously to bear<br/>
+A weight of woes, and breathe the vital air,<br/>
+A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread,<br/>
+Than reign the sceptred monarch of the dead.<br/>
+But say, if in my steps my son proceeds,<br/>
+And emulates his godlike father&rsquo;s deeds?<br/>
+If at the clash of arms, and shout of foes,<br/>
+Swells his bold heart, his bosom nobly glows?<br/>
+Say if my sire, the reverend Peleus, reigns,<br/>
+Great in his Phthia, and his throne maintains;<br/>
+Or, weak and old, my youthful arm demands,<br/>
+To fix the sceptre steadfast in his hands?<br/>
+O might the lamp of life rekindled burn,<br/>
+And death release me from the silent urn!<br/>
+This arm, that thunder&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er the Phrygian plain,<br/>
+And swell&rsquo;d the ground with mountains of the slain,<br/>
+Should vindicate my injured father&rsquo;s fame,<br/>
+Crush the proud rebel, and assert his claim.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Illustrious shade (I cried), of Peleus&rsquo; fates<br/>
+No circumstance the voice of Fame relates:<br/>
+But hear with pleased attention the renown,<br/>
+The wars and wisdom of thy gallant son.<br/>
+With me from Scyros to the field of fame<br/>
+Radiant in arms the blooming hero came.<br/>
+When Greece assembled all her hundred states,<br/>
+To ripen counsels, and decide debates,<br/>
+Heavens! how he charm&rsquo;d us with a flow of sense,<br/>
+And won the heart with manly eloquence!<br/>
+He first was seen of all the peers to rise,<br/>
+The third in wisdom, where they all were wise!<br/>
+But when, to try the fortune of the day,<br/>
+Host moved toward host in terrible array,<br/>
+Before the van, impatient for the fight,<br/>
+With martial port he strode, and stern delight:<br/>
+Heaps strew&rsquo;d on heaps beneath his falchion groan&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And monuments of dead deform&rsquo;d the ground.<br/>
+The time would fail should I in order tell<br/>
+What foes were vanquish&rsquo;d, and what numbers fell:<br/>
+How, lost through love, Eurypylus was slain,<br/>
+And round him bled his bold Cetaean train.<br/>
+To Troy no hero came of nobler line,<br/>
+Or if of nobler, Memnon, it was thine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;When Ilion in the horse received her doom,<br/>
+And unseen armies ambush&rsquo;d in its womb,<br/>
+Greece gave her latent warriors to my care,<br/>
+&rsquo;Twas mine on Troy to pour the imprison&rsquo;d war:<br/>
+Then when the boldest bosom beat with fear,<br/>
+When the stern eyes of heroes dropp&rsquo;d a tear,<br/>
+Fierce in his look his ardent valour glow&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Flush&rsquo;d in his cheek, or sallied in his blood;<br/>
+Indignant in the dark recess he stands,<br/>
+Pants for the battle, and the war demands:<br/>
+His voice breathed death, and with a martial air<br/>
+He grasp&rsquo;d his sword, and shook his glittering spear.<br/>
+And when the gods our arms with conquest crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+When Troy&rsquo;s proud bulwarks smoked upon the ground,<br/>
+Greece, to reward her soldier&rsquo;s gallant toils,<br/>
+Heap&rsquo;d high his navy with unnumber&rsquo;d spoils.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus great in glory, from the din of war<br/>
+Safe he return&rsquo;d, without one hostile scar;<br/>
+Though spears in iron tempests rain&rsquo;d around,<br/>
+Yet innocent they play&rsquo;d, and guiltless of a wound.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;While yet I spoke, the shade with transport glow&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Rose in his majesty, and nobler trod;<br/>
+With haughty stalk he sought the distant glades<br/>
+Of warrior kings, and join&rsquo;d the illustrious shades.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now without number ghost by ghost arose,<br/>
+All wailing with unutterable woes.<br/>
+Alone, apart, in discontented mood,<br/>
+A gloomy shade the sullen Ajax stood;<br/>
+For ever sad, with proud disdain he pined,<br/>
+And the lost arms for ever stung his mind;<br/>
+Though to the contest Thetis gave the laws,<br/>
+And Pallas, by the Trojans, judged the cause.<br/>
+O why was I victorious in the strife?<br/>
+O dear bought honour with so brave a life!<br/>
+With him the strength of war, the soldier&rsquo;s pride,<br/>
+Our second hope to great Achilles, died!<br/>
+Touch&rsquo;d at the sight from tears I scarce refrain,<br/>
+And tender sorrow thrills in every vein;<br/>
+Pensive and sad I stand, at length accost<br/>
+With accents mild the inexorable ghost:<br/>
+&lsquo;Still burns thy rage? and can brave souls resent<br/>
+E&rsquo;en after death? Relent, great shade, relent!<br/>
+Perish those arms which by the gods&rsquo; decree<br/>
+Accursed our army with the loss of thee!<br/>
+With thee we fall; Greece wept thy hapless fates,<br/>
+And shook astonish&rsquo;d through her hundred states;<br/>
+Not more, when great Achilles press&rsquo;d the ground,<br/>
+And breathed his manly spirit through the wound.<br/>
+O deem thy fall not owed to man&rsquo;s decree,<br/>
+Jove hated Greece, and punish&rsquo;d Greece in thee!<br/>
+Turn then; oh peaceful turn, thy wrath control,<br/>
+And calm the raging tempest of thy soul.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;While yet I speak, the shade disdains to stay,<br/>
+In silence turns, and sullen stalks away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Touch&rsquo;d at his sour retreat, through deepest night,<br/>
+Through hell&rsquo;s black bounds I had pursued his flight,<br/>
+And forced the stubborn spectre to reply;<br/>
+But wondrous visions drew my curious eye.<br/>
+High on a throne, tremendous to behold,<br/>
+Stern Minos waves a mace of burnish&rsquo;d gold;<br/>
+Around ten thousand thousand spectres stand<br/>
+Through the wide dome of Dis, a trembling band<br/>
+Still as they plead, the fatal lots he rolls,<br/>
+Absolves the just, and dooms the guilty souls.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The huge Orion, of portentous size,<br/>
+Swift through the gloom a giant-hunter flies:<br/>
+A ponderous mace of brass with direful sway<br/>
+Aloft he whirls, to crush the savage prey!<br/>
+Stern beasts in trains that by his truncheon fell,<br/>
+Now grisly forms, shoot o&rsquo;er the lawns of hell.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There Tityus large and long, in fetters bound,<br/>
+O&rsquo;erspreads nine acres of infernal ground;<br/>
+Two ravenous vultures, furious for their food,<br/>
+Scream o&rsquo;er the fiend, and riot in his blood,<br/>
+Incessant gore the liver in his breast,<br/>
+The immortal liver grows, and gives the immortal feast.<br/>
+For as o&rsquo;er Panope&rsquo;s enamell&rsquo;d plains<br/>
+Latona journey&rsquo;d to the Pythian fanes,<br/>
+With haughty love the audacious monster strove<br/>
+To force the goddess, and to rival Jove.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There Tantalus along the Stygian bounds<br/>
+Pours out deep groans (with groans all hell resounds);<br/>
+E&rsquo;en in the circling floods refreshment craves,<br/>
+And pines with thirst amidst a sea of waves;<br/>
+When to the water he his lip applies,<br/>
+Back from his lip the treacherous water flies.<br/>
+Above, beneath, around his hapless head,<br/>
+Trees of all kinds delicious fruitage spread;<br/>
+There figs, sky-dyed, a purple hue disclose,<br/>
+Green looks the olive, the pomegranate glows.<br/>
+There dangling pears exalting scents unfold.<br/>
+And yellow apples ripen into gold;<br/>
+The fruit he strives to seize; but blasts arise,<br/>
+Toss it on high, and whirl it to the skies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I turn&rsquo;d my eye, and as I turn&rsquo;d survey&rsquo;d<br/>
+A mournful vision! the Sisyphian shade;<br/>
+With many a weary step, and many a groan,<br/>
+Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone;<br/>
+The huge round stone, resulting with a bound,<br/>
+Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground.<br/>
+Again the restless orb his toil renews,<br/>
+Dust mounts in clouds, and sweat descends in dews.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now I the strength of Hercules behold,<br/>
+A towering spectre of gigantic mould,<br/>
+A shadowy form! for high in heaven&rsquo;s abodes<br/>
+Himself resides, a god among the gods;<br/>
+There in the bright assemblies of the skies.<br/>
+He nectar quaffs, and Hebe crowns his joys.<br/>
+Here hovering ghosts, like fowl, his shade surround,<br/>
+And clang their pinions with terrific sound;<br/>
+Gloomy as night he stands, in act to throw<br/>
+The aërial arrow from the twanging bow.<br/>
+Around his breast a wondrous zone is roll&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Where woodland monsters grin in fretted gold;<br/>
+There sullen lions sternly seem to roar,<br/>
+The bear to growl to foam the tusky boar;<br/>
+There war and havoc and destruction stood,<br/>
+And vengeful murder red with human blood.<br/>
+Thus terribly adorned the figures shine,<br/>
+Inimitably wrought with skill divine.<br/>
+The mighty good advanced with awful look,<br/>
+And, turning his grim visage, sternly spoke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;O exercise in grief! by arts refined;<br/>
+O taught to bear the wrongs of base mankind!<br/>
+Such, such was I! Still toss&rsquo;d from care to care,<br/>
+While in your world I drew the vital air!<br/>
+E&rsquo;en I, who from the Lord of Thunders rose,<br/>
+Bore toils and dangers, and a weight of woes;<br/>
+To a base monarch still a slave confined,<br/>
+(The hardest bondage to a generous mind!)<br/>
+Down to these worlds I trod the dismal way,<br/>
+And dragg&rsquo;d the three-mouth&rsquo;d dog to upper day<br/>
+E&rsquo;en hell I conquer&rsquo;d, through the friendly aid<br/>
+Of Maia&rsquo;s offspring, and the martial maid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus he, nor deign&rsquo;d for our reply to stay,<br/>
+But, turning, stalk&rsquo;d with giant-strides away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Curious to view the kings of ancient days,<br/>
+The mighty dead that live in endless praise,<br/>
+Resolved I stand; and haply had survey&rsquo;d<br/>
+The godlike Theseus, and Pirithous&rsquo; shade;<br/>
+But swarms of spectres rose from deepest hell,<br/>
+With bloodless visage, and with hideous yell.<br/>
+They scream, they shriek; and groans and dismal sounds<br/>
+Stun my scared ears, and pierce hell&rsquo;s utmost bounds.<br/>
+No more my heart the dismal din sustains,<br/>
+And my cold blood hangs shivering in my veins;<br/>
+Lest Gorgon, rising from the infernal lakes,<br/>
+With horrors arm&rsquo;d, and curls of hissing snakes,<br/>
+Should fix me stiffen&rsquo;d at the monstrous sight,<br/>
+A stony image, in eternal night!<br/>
+Straight from the direful coast to purer air<br/>
+I speed my flight, and to my mates repair.<br/>
+My mates ascend the ship; they strike their oars;<br/>
+The mountains lessen, and retreat the shores;<br/>
+Swift o&rsquo;er the waves we fly; the freshening gales<br/>
+Sing through the shrouds, and stretch the swelling sails.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap12"></a>BOOK XII.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE SIRENE, SCYLLA, AND CHARYBDIS.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+He relates how, after his return from the shades, he was sent by Circe on his
+voyage, by the coast of the Sirens, and by the strait of Scylla and Charybdis:
+the manner in which he escaped those dangers: how, being cast on the island
+Trinacria, his companions destroyed the oxen of the Sun: the vengeance that
+followed; how all perished by shipwreck except himself, who, swimming on the
+mast of the ship, arrived on the island of Calypso. With which his narration
+concludes.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+&ldquo;Thus o&rsquo;er the rolling surge the vessel flies,<br/>
+Till from the waves the Ææan hills arise.<br/>
+Here the gay Morn resides in radiant bowers,<br/>
+Here keeps her revels with the dancing Hours;<br/>
+Here Phœbus, rising in the ethereal way,<br/>
+Through heaven&rsquo;s bright portals pours the beamy day.<br/>
+At once we fix our halsers on the land.<br/>
+At once descend, and press the desert sand:<br/>
+There, worn and wasted, lose our cares in sleep,<br/>
+To the hoarse murmurs of the rolling deep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Soon as the morn restored the day, we paid<br/>
+Sepulchral honours to Elpenor&rsquo;s shade.<br/>
+Now by the axe the rushing forest bends,<br/>
+And the huge pile along the shore ascends.<br/>
+Around we stand, a melancholy train,<br/>
+And a loud groan re-echoes from the main.<br/>
+Fierce o&rsquo;er the pyre, by fanning breezes spread,<br/>
+The hungry flames devour the silent dead.<br/>
+A rising tomb, the silent dead to grace,<br/>
+Fast by the roarings of the main we place;<br/>
+The rising tomb a lofty column bore,<br/>
+And high above it rose the tapering oar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Meantime the goddess our return survey&rsquo;d<br/>
+From the pale ghosts and hell&rsquo;s tremendous shade.<br/>
+Swift she descends: a train of nymphs divine<br/>
+Bear the rich viands and the generous wine:<br/>
+In act to speak the power of magic stands,<br/>
+And graceful thus accosts the listening bands;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;O sons of woe? decreed by adverse fates<br/>
+Alive to pass through hell&rsquo;s eternal gates!<br/>
+All, soon or late, are doom&rsquo;d that path to tread;<br/>
+More wretched you! twice number&rsquo;d with the dead!<br/>
+This day adjourn your cares, exalt your souls,<br/>
+Indulge the taste, and drain the sparkling bowls;<br/>
+And when the morn unveils her saffron ray,<br/>
+Spread your broad sails, and plough the liquid way:<br/>
+Lo, I this night, your faithful guide, explain<br/>
+Your woes by land, your dangers on the main.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The goddess spoke. In feasts we waste the day,<br/>
+Till Phœbus downward plunged his burning ray;<br/>
+Then sable night ascends, and balmy rest<br/>
+Seals every eye, and calms the troubled breast.<br/>
+Then curious she commands me to relate<br/>
+The dreadful scenes of Pluto&rsquo;s dreary state.<br/>
+She sat in silence while the tale I tell,<br/>
+The wondrous visions and the laws of hell.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then thus: &lsquo;The lot of man the gods dispose;<br/>
+These ills are past: now hear thy future woes<br/>
+O prince attend; some favouring power be kind,<br/>
+And print the important story on thy mind!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Next, where the Sirens dwell, you plough the seas;<br/>
+Their song is death, and makes destruction please.<br/>
+Unblest the man, whom music wins to stay<br/>
+Nigh the cursed shore and listen to the lay.<br/>
+No more that wretch shall view the joys of life<br/>
+His blooming offspring, or his beauteous wife!<br/>
+In verdant meads they sport; and wide around<br/>
+Lie human bones that whiten all the ground:<br/>
+The ground polluted floats with human gore,<br/>
+And human carnage taints the dreadful shore<br/>
+Fly swift the dangerous coast: let every ear<br/>
+Be stopp&rsquo;d against the song! &rsquo;tis death to hear!<br/>
+Firm to the mast with chains thyself be bound,<br/>
+Nor trust thy virtue to the enchanting sound.<br/>
+If, mad with transport, freedom thou demand,<br/>
+Be every fetter strain&rsquo;d, and added band to band.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;These seas o&rsquo;erpass&rsquo;d, be wise! but I refrain<br/>
+To mark distinct thy voyage o&rsquo;er the main:<br/>
+New horrors rise! let prudence be thy guide,<br/>
+And guard thy various passage through the tide.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;High o&rsquo;er the main two rocks exalt their brow,&rsquo;<br/>
+The boiling billows thundering roll below;<br/>
+Through the vast waves the dreadful wonders move,<br/>
+Hence named Erratic by the gods above.<br/>
+No bird of air, no dove of swiftest wing,<br/>
+That bears ambrosia to the ethereal king,<br/>
+Shuns the dire rocks: in vain she cuts the skies;<br/>
+The dire rocks meet, and crush her as she flies:<br/>
+Not the fleet bark, when prosperous breezes play,<br/>
+Ploughs o&rsquo;er that roaring surge its desperate way;<br/>
+O&rsquo;erwhelm&rsquo;d it sinks: while round a smoke expires,<br/>
+And the waves flashing seem to burn with fires.<br/>
+Scarce the famed Argo pass&rsquo;d these raging floods,<br/>
+The sacred Argo, fill&rsquo;d with demigods!<br/>
+E&rsquo;en she had sunk, but Jove&rsquo;s imperial bride<br/>
+Wing&rsquo;d her fleet sail, and push&rsquo;d her o&rsquo;er the tide.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;High in the air the rock its summit shrouds<br/>
+In brooding tempests, and in rolling clouds;<br/>
+Loud storms around, and mists eternal rise,<br/>
+Beat its bleak brow, and intercept the skies.<br/>
+When all the broad expansion, bright with day,<br/>
+Glows with the autumnal or the summer ray,<br/>
+The summer and the autumn glow in vain,<br/>
+The sky for ever lowers, for ever clouds remain.<br/>
+Impervious to the step of man it stands,<br/>
+Though borne by twenty feet, though arm&rsquo;d with twenty hands;<br/>
+Smooth as the polish of the mirror rise<br/>
+The slippery sides, and shoot into the skies.<br/>
+Full in the centre of this rock display&rsquo;d,<br/>
+A yawning cavern casts a dreadful shade:<br/>
+Nor the fleet arrow from the twanging bow,<br/>
+Sent with full force, could reach the depth below.<br/>
+Wide to the west the horrid gulf extends,<br/>
+And the dire passage down to hell descends.<br/>
+O fly the dreadful sight! expand thy sails,<br/>
+Ply the strong oar, and catch the nimble gales;<br/>
+Here Scylla bellows from the dire abodes,<br/>
+Tremendous pest, abhorr&rsquo;d by man and gods!<br/>
+Hideous her voice, and with less terrors roar<br/>
+The whelps of lions in the midnight hour.<br/>
+Twelve feet, deform&rsquo;d and foul, the fiend dispreads;<br/>
+Six horrid necks she rears, and six terrific heads;<br/>
+Her jaws grin dreadful with three rows of teeth;<br/>
+Jaggy they stand, the gaping den of death;<br/>
+Her parts obscene the raging billows hide;<br/>
+Her bosom terribly o&rsquo;erlooks the tide.<br/>
+When stung with hunger she embroils the flood,<br/>
+The sea-dog and the dolphin are her food;<br/>
+She makes the huge leviathan her prey,<br/>
+And all the monsters of the watery way;<br/>
+The swiftest racer of the azure plain<br/>
+Here fills her sails, and spreads her oars in vain;<br/>
+Fell Scylla rises, in her fury roars,<br/>
+At once six mouths expands, at once six men devours.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Close by, a rock of less enormous height<br/>
+Breaks the wild waves, and forms a dangerous strait;<br/>
+Full on its crown a fig&rsquo;s green branches rise,<br/>
+And shoot a leafy forest to the skies;<br/>
+Beneath, Charybdis holds her boisterous reign<br/>
+&rsquo;Midst roaring whirlpools, and absorbs the main;<br/>
+Thrice in her gulfs the boiling seas subside,<br/>
+Thrice in dire thunders she refunds the tide.<br/>
+Oh, if thy vessel plough the direful waves,<br/>
+When seas retreating roar within her caves,<br/>
+Ye perish all! though he who rules the main<br/>
+Lends his strong aid, his aid he lends in vain.<br/>
+Ah, shun the horrid gulf! by Scylla fly.<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis better six to lose, than all to die.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I then: &lsquo;O nymph propitious to my prayer,<br/>
+Goddess divine, my guardian power, declare,<br/>
+Is the foul fiend from human vengeance freed?<br/>
+Or, if I rise in arms, can Scylla bleed?&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then she: &lsquo;O worn by toils, O broke in fight,<br/>
+Still are new toils and war thy dire delight?<br/>
+Will martial flames for ever fire thy mind,<br/>
+And never, never be to Heaven resign&rsquo;d?<br/>
+How vain thy efforts to avenge the wrong!<br/>
+Deathless the pest! impenetrably strong!<br/>
+Furious and fell, tremendous to behold!<br/>
+E&rsquo;en with a look she withers all the bold!<br/>
+She mocks the weak attempts of human might;<br/>
+Oh, fly her rage! thy conquest is thy flight.<br/>
+If but to seize thy arms thou make delay,<br/>
+Again thy fury vindicates her prey;<br/>
+Her six mouths yawn, and six are snatch&rsquo;d away.<br/>
+From her foul wound Crataeis gave to air<br/>
+This dreadful pest! To her direct thy prayer,<br/>
+To curb the monster in her dire abodes,<br/>
+And guard thee through the tumult of the floods.<br/>
+Thence to Trinacria&rsquo;s shore you bend your way,<br/>
+Where graze thy herds, illustrious source of day!<br/>
+Seven herds, seven flocks enrich the sacred plains,<br/>
+Each herd, each flock full fifty heads contains;<br/>
+The wondrous kind a length of age survey,<br/>
+By breed increase not, nor by death decay.<br/>
+Two sister goddesses possess the plain,<br/>
+The constant guardian of the woolly train;<br/>
+Lampetie fair, and Phaethusa young,<br/>
+From Phœbus and the bright Neæra sprung;<br/>
+Here, watchful o&rsquo;er the flocks, in shady bowers<br/>
+And flowery meads, they waste the joyous hours.<br/>
+Rob not the gods! and so propitious gales<br/>
+Attend thy voyage, and impel thy sails;<br/>
+But if thy impious hands the flocks destroy,<br/>
+The gods, the gods avenge it, and ye die!<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis thine alone (thy friends and navy lost)<br/>
+Through tedious toils to view thy native coast.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She ceased: and now arose the morning ray;<br/>
+Swift to her dome the goddess held her way.<br/>
+Then to my mates I measured back the plain,<br/>
+Climb&rsquo;d the tall bark, and rush&rsquo;d into the main;<br/>
+Then, bending to the stroke, their oars they drew<br/>
+To their broad breasts, and swift the galley flew.<br/>
+Up sprung a brisker breeze; with freshening gales<br/>
+The friendly goddess stretch&rsquo;d the swelling sails;<br/>
+We drop our oars; at ease the pilot guides;<br/>
+The vessel light along the level glides.<br/>
+When, rising sad and slow, with pensive look,<br/>
+Thus to the melancholy train I spoke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;O friends, oh ever partners of my woes,<br/>
+Attend while I what Heaven foredooms disclose.<br/>
+Hear all! Fate hangs o&rsquo;er all; on you it lies<br/>
+To live or perish! to be safe, be wise!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;In flowery meads the sportive Sirens play,<br/>
+Touch the soft lyre, and tune the vocal lay;<br/>
+Me, me alone, with fetters firmly bound,<br/>
+The gods allow to hear the dangerous sound.<br/>
+Hear and obey; if freedom I demand,<br/>
+Be every fetter strain&rsquo;d, be added band to band.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;While yet I speak the winged galley flies,<br/>
+And lo! the Siren shores like mists arise.<br/>
+Sunk were at once the winds; the air above,<br/>
+And waves below, at once forgot to move;<br/>
+Some demon calm&rsquo;d the air and smooth&rsquo;d the deep,<br/>
+Hush&rsquo;d the loud winds, and charm&rsquo;d the waves to sleep.<br/>
+Now every sail we furl, each oar we ply;<br/>
+Lash&rsquo;d by the stroke, the frothy waters fly.<br/>
+The ductile wax with busy hands I mould,<br/>
+And cleft in fragments, and the fragments roll&rsquo;d;<br/>
+The aërial region now grew warm with day,<br/>
+The wax dissolved beneath the burning ray;<br/>
+Then every ear I barr&rsquo;d against the strain,<br/>
+And from access of frenzy lock&rsquo;d the brain.<br/>
+Now round the masts my mates the fetters roll&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And bound me limb by limb with fold on fold.<br/>
+Then bending to the stroke, the active train<br/>
+Plunge all at once their oars, and cleave the main.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;While to the shore the rapid vessel flies,<br/>
+Our swift approach the Siren choir descries;<br/>
+Celestial music warbles from their tongue,<br/>
+And thus the sweet deluders tune the song:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Oh stay, O pride of Greece! Ulysses, stay!<br/>
+Oh cease thy course, and listen to our lay!<br/>
+Blest is the man ordain&rsquo;d our voice to hear,<br/>
+The song instructs the soul, and charms the ear.<br/>
+Approach! thy soul shall into raptures rise!<br/>
+Approach! and learn new wisdom from the wise!<br/>
+We know whate&rsquo;er the kings of mighty name<br/>
+Achieved at Ilion in the field of fame;<br/>
+Whate&rsquo;er beneath the sun&rsquo;s bright journey lies.<br/>
+Oh stay, and learn new wisdom from the wise!&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus the sweet charmers warbled o&rsquo;er the main;<br/>
+My soul takes wing to meet the heavenly strain;<br/>
+I give the sign, and struggle to be free;<br/>
+Swift row my mates, and shoot along the sea;<br/>
+New chains they add, and rapid urge the way,<br/>
+Till, dying off, the distant sounds decay;<br/>
+Then scudding swiftly from the dangerous ground,<br/>
+The deafen&rsquo;d ear unlock&rsquo;d, the chains unbound.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now all at once tremendous scenes unfold;<br/>
+Thunder&rsquo;d the deeps, the smoky billows roll&rsquo;d!<br/>
+Tumultuous waves embroil the bellowing flood,<br/>
+All trembling, deafen&rsquo;d, and aghast we stood!<br/>
+No more the vessel plough&rsquo;d the dreadful wave,<br/>
+Fear seized the mighty, and unnerved the brave;<br/>
+Each dropp&rsquo;d his oar; but swift from man to man<br/>
+With looks serene I turn&rsquo;d, and thus began:<br/>
+&lsquo;O friends! O often tried in adverse storms!<br/>
+With ills familiar in more dreadful forms!<br/>
+Deep in the dire Cyclopæan den you lay,<br/>
+Yet safe return&rsquo;d&mdash;Ulysses led the way.<br/>
+Learn courage hence, and in my care confide;<br/>
+Lo! still the same Ulysses is your guide.<br/>
+Attend my words! your oars incessant ply;<br/>
+Strain every nerve, and bid the vessel fly.<br/>
+If from yon jostling rocks and wavy war<br/>
+Jove safety grants, he grants it to your care.<br/>
+And thou, whose guiding hand directs our way,<br/>
+Pilot, attentive listen and obey!<br/>
+Bear wide thy course, nor plough those angry waves<br/>
+Where rolls yon smoke, yon tumbling ocean raves;<br/>
+Steer by the higher rock; lest whirl&rsquo;d around<br/>
+We sink, beneath the circling eddy drown&rsquo;d.&rsquo;<br/>
+While yet I speak, at once their oars they seize,<br/>
+Stretch to the stroke, and brush the working seas.<br/>
+Cautious the name of Scylla I suppress&rsquo;d;<br/>
+That dreadful sound had chill&rsquo;d the boldest breast.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Meantime, forgetful of the voice divine,<br/>
+All dreadful bright my limbs in armour shine;<br/>
+High on the deck I take my dangerous stand,<br/>
+Two glittering javelins lighten in my hand;<br/>
+Prepared to whirl the whizzing spear I stay,<br/>
+Till the fell fiend arise to seize her prey.<br/>
+Around the dungeon, studious to behold<br/>
+The hideous pest, my labouring eyes I roll&rsquo;d;<br/>
+In vain! the dismal dungeon, dark as night,<br/>
+Veils the dire monster, and confounds the sight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now through the rocks, appall&rsquo;d with deep dismay,<br/>
+We bend our course, and stem the desperate way;<br/>
+Dire Scylla there a scene of horror forms,<br/>
+And here Charybdis fills the deep with storms.<br/>
+When the tide rushes from her rumbling caves,<br/>
+The rough rock roars, tumultuous boil the waves;<br/>
+They toss, they foam, a wild confusion raise,<br/>
+Like waters bubbling o&rsquo;er the fiery blaze;<br/>
+Eternal mists obscure the aërial plain,<br/>
+And high above the rock she spouts the main;<br/>
+When in her gulfs the rushing sea subsides,<br/>
+She drains the ocean with the refluent tides;<br/>
+The rock re-bellows with a thundering sound;<br/>
+Deep, wondrous deep, below appears the ground.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Struck with despair, with trembling hearts we view&rsquo;d<br/>
+The yawning dungeon, and the tumbling flood;<br/>
+When lo! fierce Scylla stoop&rsquo;d to seize her prey,<br/>
+Stretch&rsquo;d her dire jaws, and swept six men away.<br/>
+Chiefs of renown! loud-echoing shrieks arise;<br/>
+I turn, and view them quivering in the skies;<br/>
+They call, and aid with outstretch&rsquo;d arms implore;<br/>
+In vain they call! those arms are stretch&rsquo;d no more.<br/>
+As from some rock that overhangs the flood<br/>
+The silent fisher casts the insidious food,<br/>
+With fraudful care he waits the finny prize,<br/>
+And sudden lifts it quivering to the skies:<br/>
+So the foul monster lifts her prey on high,<br/>
+So pant the wretches struggling in the sky;<br/>
+In the wide dungeon she devours her food,<br/>
+And the flesh trembles while she churns the blood.<br/>
+Worn as I am with griefs, with care decay&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Never, I never scene so dire survey&rsquo;d!<br/>
+My shivering blood, congeal&rsquo;d, forgot to flow;<br/>
+Aghast I stood, a monument of woe!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now from the rocks the rapid vessel flies,<br/>
+And the hoarse din like distant thunder dies;<br/>
+To Sol&rsquo;s bright isle our voyage we pursue,<br/>
+And now the glittering mountains rise to view.<br/>
+There, sacred to the radiant god of day,<br/>
+Graze the fair herds, the flocks promiscuous stray:<br/>
+Then suddenly was heard along the main<br/>
+To low the ox, to bleat the woolly train.<br/>
+Straight to my anxious thoughts the sound convey&rsquo;d<br/>
+The words of Circe and the Theban shade;<br/>
+Warn&rsquo;d by their awful voice these shores to shun,<br/>
+With cautious fears oppress&rsquo;d I thus begun:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;O friends! O ever exercised in care!<br/>
+Hear Heaven&rsquo;s commands, and reverence what ye hear!<br/>
+To fly these shores the prescient Theban shade<br/>
+And Circe warn! Oh be their voice obey&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Some mighty woe relentless Heaven forebodes:<br/>
+Fly these dire regions, and revere the gods!&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;While yet I spoke, a sudden sorrow ran<br/>
+Through every breast, and spread from man to man,<br/>
+Till wrathful thus Eurylochus began:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;O cruel thou! some Fury sure has steel&rsquo;d<br/>
+That stubborn soul, by toil untaught to yield!<br/>
+From sleep debarr&rsquo;d, we sink from woes to woes:<br/>
+And cruel, enviest thou a short repose?<br/>
+Still must we restless rove, new seas explore,<br/>
+The sun descending, and so near the shore?<br/>
+And lo! the night begins her gloomy reign,<br/>
+And doubles all the terrors of the main:<br/>
+Oft in the dead of night loud winds arise,<br/>
+Lash the wild surge, and bluster in the skies.<br/>
+Oh, should the fierce south-west his rage display,<br/>
+And toss with rising storms the watery way,<br/>
+Though gods descend from heaven&rsquo;s aërial plain<br/>
+To lend us aid, the gods descend in vain.<br/>
+Then while the night displays her awful shade,<br/>
+Sweet time of slumber! be the night obey&rsquo;d!<br/>
+Haste ye to land! and when the morning ray<br/>
+Sheds her bright beam, pursue the destined way.&rsquo;<br/>
+A sudden joy in every bosom rose:<br/>
+So will&rsquo;d some demon, minister of woes!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;To whom with grief: &lsquo;O swift to be undone!<br/>
+Constrain&rsquo;d I act what wisdom bids me shun.<br/>
+But yonder herbs and yonder flocks forbear;<br/>
+Attest the heavens, and call the gods to hear:<br/>
+Content, an innocent repast display,<br/>
+By Circe given, and fly the dangerous prey.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus I: and while to shore the vessel flies,<br/>
+With hands uplifted they attest the skies:<br/>
+Then, where a fountain&rsquo;s gurgling waters play,<br/>
+They rush to land, and end in feasts the day:<br/>
+They feed; they quaff; and now (their hunger fled)<br/>
+Sigh for their friends devour&rsquo;d, and mourn the dead;<br/>
+Nor cease the tears till each in slumber shares<br/>
+A sweet forgetfulness of human cares.<br/>
+Now far the night advanced her gloomy reign,<br/>
+And setting stars roll&rsquo;d down the azure plain:<br/>
+When at the voice of Jove wild whirlwinds rise,<br/>
+And clouds and double darkness veil the skies;<br/>
+The moon, the stars, the bright ethereal host<br/>
+Seem as extinct, and all their splendours lost:<br/>
+The furious tempest roars with dreadful sound:<br/>
+Air thunders, rolls the ocean, groans the ground.<br/>
+All night it raged: when morning rose to land<br/>
+We haul&rsquo;d our bark, and moor&rsquo;d it on the strand,<br/>
+Where in a beauteous grotto&rsquo;s cool recess<br/>
+Dance the green Nereids of the neighbouring seas.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There while the wild winds whistled o&rsquo;er the main,<br/>
+Thus careful I address&rsquo;d the listening train:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;O friends, be wise! nor dare the flocks destroy<br/>
+Of these fair pastures: if ye touch, ye die.<br/>
+Warn&rsquo;d by the high command of Heaven, be awed:<br/>
+Holy the flocks, and dreadful is the god!<br/>
+That god who spreads the radiant beams of light,<br/>
+And views wide earth and heaven&rsquo;s unmeasured height.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now the moon had run her monthly round,<br/>
+The south-east blustering with a dreadful sound:<br/>
+Unhurt the beeves, untouch&rsquo;d the woolly train,<br/>
+Low through the grove, or touch the flowery plain:<br/>
+Then fail&rsquo;d our food: then fish we make our prey,<br/>
+Or fowl that screaming haunt the watery way.<br/>
+Till now from sea or flood no succour found,<br/>
+Famine and meagre want besieged us round.<br/>
+Pensive and pale from grove to grove I stray&rsquo;d,<br/>
+From the loud storms to find a sylvan shade;<br/>
+There o&rsquo;er my hands the living wave I pour;<br/>
+And Heaven and Heaven&rsquo;s immortal thrones implore,<br/>
+To calm the roarings of the stormy main,<br/>
+And guide me peaceful to my realms again.<br/>
+Then o&rsquo;er my eyes the gods soft slumbers shed,<br/>
+While thus Eurylochus arising said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;O friends, a thousand ways frail mortals lead<br/>
+To the cold tomb, and dreadful all to tread;<br/>
+But dreadful most, when by a slow decay<br/>
+Pale hunger wastes the manly strength away.<br/>
+Why cease ye then to implore the powers above,<br/>
+And offer hecatombs to thundering Jove?<br/>
+Why seize ye not yon beeves, and fleecy prey?<br/>
+Arise unanimous; arise and slay!<br/>
+And if the gods ordain a safe return,<br/>
+To Phœbus shrines shall rise, and altars burn.<br/>
+But should the powers that o&rsquo;er mankind preside<br/>
+Decree to plunge us in the whelming tide,<br/>
+Better to rush at once to shades below<br/>
+Than linger life away, and nourish woe.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus he: the beeves around securely stray,<br/>
+When swift to ruin they invade the prey;<br/>
+They seize, they kill!&mdash;but for the rite divine.<br/>
+The barley fail&rsquo;d, and for libations wine.<br/>
+Swift from the oak they strip the shady pride;<br/>
+And verdant leaves the flowery cake supplied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;With prayer they now address the ethereal train,<br/>
+Slay the selected beeves, and flay the slain;<br/>
+The thighs, with fat involved, divide with art,<br/>
+Strew&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er with morsels cut from every part.<br/>
+Water, instead of wine, is brought in urns,<br/>
+And pour&rsquo;d profanely as the victim burns.<br/>
+The thighs thus offer&rsquo;d, and the entrails dress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+They roast the fragments, and prepare the feast.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Twas then soft slumber fled my troubled brain;<br/>
+Back to the bark I speed along the main.<br/>
+When lo! an odour from the feast exhales,<br/>
+Spreads o&rsquo;er the coast and scents the tainted gales;<br/>
+A chilly fear congeal&rsquo;d my vital blood,<br/>
+And thus, obtesting Heaven, I mourn&rsquo;d aloud;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;O sire of men and gods, immortal Jove!<br/>
+O all ye blissful powers that reign above!<br/>
+Why were my cares beguiled in short repose?<br/>
+O fatal slumber, paid with lasting woes!<br/>
+A deed so dreadful all the gods alarms,<br/>
+Vengeance is on the wing, and Heaven in arms!&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Meantime Lampetie mounts the aërial way,<br/>
+And kindles into rage the god of day;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Vengeance, ye powers (he cries), and then whose hand<br/>
+Aims the red bolt, and hurls the writhen brand!<br/>
+Slain are those herds which I with pride survey,<br/>
+When through the ports of heaven I pour the day,<br/>
+Or deep in ocean plunge the burning ray.<br/>
+Vengeance, ye gods! or I the skies forego,<br/>
+And bear the lamp of heaven to shades below.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;To whom the thundering Power: &lsquo;O source of day<br/>
+Whose radiant lamp adorns the azure way,<br/>
+Still may thy beams through heaven&rsquo;s bright portal rise,<br/>
+The joy of earth, the glory of the skies:<br/>
+Lo! my red arm I bare, my thunders guide,<br/>
+To dash the offenders in the whelming tide.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;To fair Calypso, from the bright abodes,<br/>
+Hermes convey&rsquo;d these counsels of the gods.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Meantime from man to man my tongue exclaims,<br/>
+My wrath is kindled, and my soul in flames.<br/>
+In vain! I view perform&rsquo;d the direful deed,<br/>
+Beeves, slain in heaps, along the ocean bleed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now heaven gave signs of wrath: along the ground<br/>
+Crept the raw hides, and with a bellowing sound<br/>
+Roar&rsquo;d the dead limbs; the burning entrails groan&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Six guilty days my wretched mates employ<br/>
+In impious feasting, and unhallowed joy;<br/>
+The seventh arose, and now the sire of gods<br/>
+Rein&rsquo;d the rough storms; and calm&rsquo;d the tossing floods:<br/>
+With speed the bark we climb; the spacious sails.<br/>
+Loosed from the yards invite the impelling gales.<br/>
+Past sight of shore, along the surge we bound,<br/>
+And all above is sky, and ocean all around;<br/>
+When lo! a murky cloud the thunderer forms<br/>
+Full o&rsquo;er our heads, and blackens heaven with storms.<br/>
+Night dwells o&rsquo;er all the deep: and now outflies<br/>
+The gloomy west, and whistles in the skies.<br/>
+The mountain-billows roar! the furious blast<br/>
+Howls o&rsquo;er the shroud, and rends it from the mast:<br/>
+The mast gives way, and, crackling as it bends,<br/>
+Tears up the deck; then all at once descends:<br/>
+The pilot by the tumbling ruin slain,<br/>
+Dash&rsquo;d from the helm, falls headlong in the main.<br/>
+Then Jove in anger bids his thunders roll,<br/>
+And forky lightnings flash from pole to pole:<br/>
+Fierce at our heads his deadly bolt he aims,<br/>
+Red with uncommon wrath, and wrapp&rsquo;d in flames:<br/>
+Full on the bark it fell; now high, now low,<br/>
+Toss&rsquo;d and retoss&rsquo;d, it reel&rsquo;d beneath the blow;<br/>
+At once into the main the crew it shook:<br/>
+Sulphurous odours rose, and smouldering smoke.<br/>
+Like fowl that haunt the floods, they sink, they rise,<br/>
+Now lost, now seen, with shrieks and dreadful cries;<br/>
+And strive to gain the bark, but Jove denies.<br/>
+Firm at the helm I stand, when fierce the main<br/>
+Rush&rsquo;d with dire noise, and dash&rsquo;d the sides in twain;<br/>
+Again impetuous drove the furious blast,<br/>
+Snapp&rsquo;d the strong helm, and bore to sea the mast.<br/>
+Firm to the mast with cords the helm I bind,<br/>
+And ride aloft, to Providence resign&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Through tumbling billows and a war of wind.<br/>
+&ldquo;Now sunk the west, and now a southern breeze,<br/>
+More dreadful than the tempest lash&rsquo;d the seas;<br/>
+For on the rocks it bore where Scylla raves,<br/>
+And dire Charybdis rolls her thundering waves.<br/>
+All night I drove; and at the dawn of day,<br/>
+Fast by the rocks beheld the desperate way;<br/>
+Just when the sea within her gulfs subsides,<br/>
+And in the roaring whirlpools rush the tides,<br/>
+Swift from the float I vaulted with a bound,<br/>
+The lofty fig-tree seized, and clung around;<br/>
+So to the beam the bat tenacious clings,<br/>
+And pendent round it clasps his leather wings.<br/>
+High in the air the tree its boughs display&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And o&rsquo;er the dungeon cast a dreadful shade;<br/>
+All unsustain&rsquo;d between the wave and sky,<br/>
+Beneath my feet the whirling billows fly.<br/>
+What time the judge forsakes the noisy bar<br/>
+To take repast, and stills the wordy war,<br/>
+Charybdis, rumbling from her inmost caves,<br/>
+The mast refunded on her refluent waves.<br/>
+Swift from the tree, the floating mass to gain,<br/>
+Sudden I dropp&rsquo;d amidst the flashing main;<br/>
+Once more undaunted on the ruin rode,<br/>
+And oar&rsquo;d with labouring arms along the flood.<br/>
+Unseen I pass&rsquo;d by Scylla&rsquo;s dire abodes.<br/>
+So Jove decreed (dread sire of men and gods).<br/>
+Then nine long days I plow&rsquo;d the calmer seas,<br/>
+Heaved by the surge, and wafted by the breeze.<br/>
+Weary and wet the Ogygian shores I gain,<br/>
+When the tenth sun descended to the main.<br/>
+There, in Calypso&rsquo;s ever-fragrant bowers,<br/>
+Refresh&rsquo;d I lay, and joy beguiled the hours.<br/>
+&ldquo;My following fates to thee, O king, are known,<br/>
+And the bright partner of thy royal throne.<br/>
+Enough: in misery can words avail?<br/>
+And what so tedious as a twice-told tale?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap13"></a>BOOK XIII.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE ARRIVAL OF ULYSSES IN ITHACA.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Ulysses takes his leave of Alcinous and Arete, and embarks in the evening. Next
+morning the ship arrives at Ithaca; where the sailors, as Ulysses is yet
+sleeping, lay him on the shore with all his treasures. On their return, Neptune
+changes their ship into a rock. In the meantime Ulysses, awaking, knows not his
+native Ithaca, by reason of a mist which Pallas had cast around him. He breaks
+into loud lamentations; till the goddess appearing to him in the form of a
+shepherd, discovers the country to him, and points out the particular places.
+He then tells a feigned story of his adventures, upon which she manifests
+herself, and they consult together of the measures to be taken to destroy the
+suitors. To conceal his return, and disguise his person the more effectually,
+she changes him into the figure of an old beggar.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+He ceased; but left so pleasing on their ear<br/>
+His voice, that listening still they seem&rsquo;d to hear.<br/>
+A pause of silence hush&rsquo;d the shady rooms:<br/>
+The grateful conference then the king resumes:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whatever toils the great Ulysses pass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Beneath this happy roof they end at last;<br/>
+No longer now from shore to shore to roam,<br/>
+Smooth seas and gentle winds invite him home.<br/>
+But hear me, princes! whom these walls inclose,<br/>
+For whom my chanter sings: and goblet flows<br/>
+With wine unmix&rsquo;d (an honour due to age,<br/>
+To cheer the grave, and warm the poet&rsquo;s rage);<br/>
+Though labour&rsquo;d gold and many a dazzling vest<br/>
+Lie heap&rsquo;d already for our godlike guest;<br/>
+Without new treasures let him not remove,<br/>
+Large, and expressive of the public love:<br/>
+Each peer a tripod, each a vase bestow,<br/>
+A general tribute, which the state shall owe.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This sentence pleased: then all their steps address&rsquo;d<br/>
+To separate mansions, and retired to rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now did the rosy-finger&rsquo;d morn arise,<br/>
+And shed her sacred light along the skies.<br/>
+Down to the haven and the ships in haste<br/>
+They bore the treasures, and in safety placed.<br/>
+The king himself the vases ranged with care;<br/>
+Then bade his followers to the feast prepare.<br/>
+A victim ox beneath the sacred hand<br/>
+Of great Alcinous falls, and stains the sand.<br/>
+To Jove the Eternal (power above all powers!<br/>
+Who wings the winds, and darkens heaven with showers)<br/>
+The flames ascend: till evening they prolong<br/>
+The rites, more sacred made by heavenly song;<br/>
+For in the midst, with public honours graced,<br/>
+Thy lyre divine, Demodocus! was placed.<br/>
+All, but Ulysses, heard with fix&rsquo;d delight;<br/>
+He sate, and eyed the sun, and wish&rsquo;d the night;<br/>
+Slow seem&rsquo;d the sun to move, the hours to roll,<br/>
+His native home deep-imaged in his soul.<br/>
+As the tired ploughman, spent with stubborn toil,<br/>
+Whose oxen long have torn the furrow&rsquo;d soil,<br/>
+Sees with delight the sun&rsquo;s declining ray,<br/>
+When home with feeble knees he bends his way<br/>
+To late repast (the day&rsquo;s hard labour done);<br/>
+So to Ulysses welcome set the sun;<br/>
+Then instant to Alcinous and the rest<br/>
+(The Scherian states) he turn&rsquo;d, and thus address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O thou, the first in merit and command!<br/>
+And you the peers and princes of the land!<br/>
+May every joy be yours! nor this the least,<br/>
+When due libation shall have crown&rsquo;d the feast,<br/>
+Safe to my home to send your happy guest.<br/>
+Complete are now the bounties you have given,<br/>
+Be all those bounties but confirm&rsquo;d by Heaven!<br/>
+So may I find, when all my wanderings cease,<br/>
+My consort blameless, and my friends in peace.<br/>
+On you be every bliss; and every day,<br/>
+In home-felt joys, delighted roll away;<br/>
+Yourselves, your wives, your long-descending race,<br/>
+May every god enrich with every grace!<br/>
+Sure fix&rsquo;d on virtue may your nation stand,<br/>
+And public evil never touch the land!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His words well weigh&rsquo;d, the general voice approved<br/>
+Benign, and instant his dismission moved,<br/>
+The monarch to Pontonus gave the sign.<br/>
+To fill the goblet high with rosy wine;<br/>
+&ldquo;Great Jove the Father first (he cried) implore;<br/>
+Then send the stranger to his native shore.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The luscious wine the obedient herald brought;<br/>
+Around the mansion flow&rsquo;d the purple draught;<br/>
+Each from his seat to each immortal pours,<br/>
+Whom glory circles in the Olympian bowers<br/>
+Ulysses sole with air majestic stands,<br/>
+The bowl presenting to Arete&rsquo;s hands;<br/>
+Then thus: &ldquo;O queen, farewell! be still possess&rsquo;d<br/>
+Of dear remembrance, blessing still and bless&rsquo;d!<br/>
+Till age and death shall gently call thee hence,<br/>
+(Sure fate of every mortal excellence!)<br/>
+Farewell! and joys successive ever spring<br/>
+To thee, to thine, the people, and the king!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus he: then parting prints the sandy shore<br/>
+To the fair port: a herald march&rsquo;d before,<br/>
+Sent by Alcinous; of Arete&rsquo;s train<br/>
+Three chosen maids attend him to the main;<br/>
+This does a tunic and white vest convey,<br/>
+A various casket that, of rich inlay,<br/>
+And bread and wine the third. The cheerful mates<br/>
+Safe in the hollow poop dispose the cates;<br/>
+Upon the deck soft painted robes they spread<br/>
+With linen cover&rsquo;d, for the hero&rsquo;s bed.<br/>
+He climbed the lofty stern; then gently press&rsquo;d<br/>
+The swelling couch, and lay composed to rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now placed in order, the Phæacian train<br/>
+Their cables loose, and launch into the main;<br/>
+At once they bend, and strike their equal oars,<br/>
+And leave the sinking hills and lessening shores.<br/>
+While on the deck the chief in silence lies,<br/>
+And pleasing slumbers steal upon his eyes.<br/>
+As fiery coursers in the rapid race<br/>
+Urged by fierce drivers through the dusty space,<br/>
+Toss their high heads, and scour along the plain,<br/>
+So mounts the bounding vessel o&rsquo;er the main.<br/>
+Back to the stern the parted billows flow,<br/>
+And the black ocean foams and roars below.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus with spread sails the winged galley flies;<br/>
+Less swift an eagle cuts the liquid skies;<br/>
+Divine Ulysses was her sacred load,<br/>
+A man, in wisdom equal to a god!<br/>
+Much danger, long and mighty toils he bore,<br/>
+In storms by sea, and combats on the shore;<br/>
+All which soft sleep now banish&rsquo;d from his breast,<br/>
+Wrapp&rsquo;d in a pleasing, deep, and death-like rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But when the morning-star with early ray<br/>
+Flamed in the front of heaven, and promised day;<br/>
+Like distant clouds the mariner descries<br/>
+Fair Ithaca&rsquo;s emerging hills arise.<br/>
+Far from the town a spacious port appears,<br/>
+Sacred to Phorcys&rsquo; power, whose name it bears;<br/>
+Two craggy rocks projecting to the main,<br/>
+The roaring wind&rsquo;s tempestuous rage restrain;<br/>
+Within the waves in softer murmurs glide,<br/>
+And ships secure without their halsers ride.<br/>
+High at the head a branching olive grows,<br/>
+And crowns the pointed cliffs with shady boughs.<br/>
+Beneath, a gloomy grotto&rsquo;s cool recess<br/>
+Delights the Nereids of the neighbouring seas,<br/>
+Where bowls and urns were form&rsquo;d of living stone,<br/>
+And massy beams in native marble shone,<br/>
+On which the labours of the nymphs were roll&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Their webs divine of purple mix&rsquo;d with gold.<br/>
+Within the cave the clustering bees attend<br/>
+Their waxen works, or from the roof depend.<br/>
+Perpetual waters o&rsquo;er the pavement glide;<br/>
+Two marble doors unfold on either side;<br/>
+Sacred the south, by which the gods descend;<br/>
+But mortals enter at the northern end.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thither they bent, and haul&rsquo;d their ship to land<br/>
+(The crooked keel divides the yellow sand).<br/>
+Ulysses sleeping on his couch they bore,<br/>
+And gently placed him on the rocky shore.<br/>
+His treasures next, Alcinous&rsquo; gifts, they laid<br/>
+In the wild olive&rsquo;s unfrequented shade,<br/>
+Secure from theft; then launch&rsquo;d the bark again,<br/>
+Resumed their oars, and measured back the main,<br/>
+Nor yet forgot old Ocean&rsquo;s dread supreme,<br/>
+The vengeance vow&rsquo;d for eyeless Polypheme.<br/>
+Before the throne of mighty Jove he stood,<br/>
+And sought the secret counsels of the god.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Shall then no more, O sire of gods! be mine<br/>
+The rights and honours of a power divine?<br/>
+Scorn&rsquo;d e&rsquo;en by man, and (oh severe disgrace!)<br/>
+By soft Phæacians, my degenerate race!<br/>
+Against yon destined head in vain I swore,<br/>
+And menaced vengeance, ere he reach&rsquo;d his shore;<br/>
+To reach his natal shore was thy decree;<br/>
+Mild I obey&rsquo;d, for who shall war with thee?<br/>
+Behold him landed, careless and asleep,<br/>
+From all the eluded dangers of the deep;<br/>
+Lo where he lies, amidst a shining store<br/>
+Of brass, rich garments, and refulgent ore;<br/>
+And bears triumphant to his native isle<br/>
+A prize more worth than Ilion&rsquo;s noble spoil.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the Father of the immortal powers,<br/>
+Who swells the clouds, and gladdens earth with showers,<br/>
+&ldquo;Can mighty Neptune thus of man complain?<br/>
+Neptune, tremendous o&rsquo;er the boundless main!<br/>
+Revered and awful e&rsquo;en in heaven&rsquo;s abodes,<br/>
+Ancient and great! a god above the gods!<br/>
+If that low race offend thy power divine<br/>
+(Weak, daring creatures!) is not vengeance thine?<br/>
+Go, then, the guilty at thy will chastise.&rdquo;<br/>
+He said. The shaker of the earth replies:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;This then, I doom: to fix the gallant ship,<br/>
+A mark of vengeance on the sable deep;<br/>
+To warn the thoughtless, self-confiding train,<br/>
+No more unlicensed thus to brave the main.<br/>
+Full in their port a Shady hill shall rise,<br/>
+If such thy will.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;We will it (Jove replies).<br/>
+E&rsquo;en when with transport blackening all the strand,<br/>
+The swarming people hail their ship to land,<br/>
+Fix her for ever, a memorial stone:<br/>
+Still let her seem to sail, and seem alone.<br/>
+The trembling crowds shall see the sudden shade<br/>
+Of whelming mountains overhang their head!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With that the god whose earthquakes rock the ground<br/>
+Fierce to Phæacia cross&rsquo;d the vast profound.<br/>
+Swift as a swallow sweeps the liquid way,<br/>
+The winged pinnace shot along the sea.<br/>
+The god arrests her with a sudden stroke,<br/>
+And roots her down an everlasting rock.<br/>
+Aghast the Scherians stand in deep surprise;<br/>
+All press to speak, all question with their eyes.<br/>
+What hands unseen the rapid bark restrain!<br/>
+And yet it swims, or seems to swim, the main!<br/>
+Thus they, unconscious of the deed divine;<br/>
+Till great Alcinous, rising, own&rsquo;d the sign.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Behold the long predestined day! (he cries;)<br/>
+O certain faith of ancient prophecies<br/>
+These ears have heard my royal sire disclose<br/>
+A dreadful story, big with future woes;<br/>
+How, moved with wrath, that careless we convey<br/>
+Promiscuous every guest to every bay,<br/>
+Stern Neptune raged; and how by his command<br/>
+Firm rooted in the surge a ship should stand<br/>
+(A monument of wrath); and mound on mound<br/>
+Should hide our walls, or whelm beneath the ground.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The Fates have follow&rsquo;d as declared the seer.<br/>
+Be humbled, nations! and your monarch hear.<br/>
+No more unlicensed brave the deeps, no more<br/>
+With every stranger pass from shore to shore;<br/>
+On angry Neptune now for mercy call;<br/>
+To his high name let twelve black oxen fall.<br/>
+So may the god reverse his purposed will,<br/>
+Nor o&rsquo;er our city hang the dreadful hill.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The monarch spoke: they trembled and obey&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Forth on the sands the victim oxen led;<br/>
+The gathered tribes before the altars stand,<br/>
+And chiefs and rulers, a majestic band.<br/>
+The king of ocean all the tribes implore;<br/>
+The blazing altars redden all the shore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile Ulysses in his country lay,<br/>
+Released from sleep, and round him might survey<br/>
+The solitary shore and rolling sea.<br/>
+Yet had his mind through tedious absence lost<br/>
+The dear resemblance of his native coast;<br/>
+Besides, Minerva, to secure her care,<br/>
+Diffused around a veil of thickened air;<br/>
+For so the gods ordain&rsquo;d to keep unseen<br/>
+His royal person from his friends and queen;<br/>
+Till the proud suitors for their crimes afford<br/>
+An ample vengeance to their injured lord.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now all the land another prospect bore,<br/>
+Another port appear&rsquo;d, another shore.<br/>
+And long-continued ways, and winding floods,<br/>
+And unknown mountains, crown&rsquo;d with unknown woods<br/>
+Pensive and slow, with sudden grief oppress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The king arose, and beat his careful breast,<br/>
+Cast a long look o&rsquo;er all the coast and main,<br/>
+And sought, around, his native realm in vain;<br/>
+Then with erected eyes stood fix&rsquo;d in woe,<br/>
+And as he spoke, the tears began to flow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ye gods (he cried), upon what barren coast,<br/>
+In what new region, is Ulysses toss&rsquo;d?<br/>
+Possess&rsquo;d by wild barbarians, fierce in arms?<br/>
+Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?<br/>
+Where shall this treasure now in safely lie?<br/>
+And whither, whither its sad owner fly?<br/>
+Ah, why did I Alcinous&rsquo; grace implore?<br/>
+Ah, why forsake Phæacia&rsquo;s happy shore?<br/>
+Some juster prince perhaps had entertain&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And safe restored me to my native land.<br/>
+Is this the promised, long-expected coast,<br/>
+And this the faith Phæacia&rsquo;s rulers boast?<br/>
+O righteous gods! of all the great, how few<br/>
+Are just to Heaven, and to their promise true!<br/>
+But he, the power to whose all-seeing eyes<br/>
+The deeds of men appear without disguise,<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis his alone to avenge the wrongs I bear;<br/>
+For still the oppress&rsquo;d are his peculiar care.<br/>
+To count these presents, and from thence to prove,<br/>
+Their faith is mine; the rest belongs to Jove.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then on the sands he ranged his wealthy store,<br/>
+The gold, the vests, the tripods number&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er:<br/>
+All these he found, but still in error lost,<br/>
+Disconsolate he wanders on the coast,<br/>
+Sighs for his country, and laments again<br/>
+To the deaf rocks, and hoarse-resounding main.<br/>
+When lo! the guardian goddess of the wise,<br/>
+Celestial Pallas, stood before his eyes;<br/>
+In show a youthful swain, of form divine,<br/>
+Who seem&rsquo;d descended from some princely line.<br/>
+A graceful robe her slender body dress&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Around her shoulders flew the waving vest;<br/>
+Her decent hand a shining javelin bore,<br/>
+And painted sandals on her feet she wore.<br/>
+To whom the king: &ldquo;Whoe&rsquo;er of human race<br/>
+Thou art, that wanderest in this desert place,<br/>
+With joy to thee, as to some god I bend,<br/>
+To thee my treasures and myself commend.<br/>
+O tell a wretch in exile doom&rsquo;d to stray,<br/>
+What air I breathe, what country I survey?<br/>
+The fruitful continent&rsquo;s extremest bound,<br/>
+Or some fair isle which Neptune&rsquo;s arms surround?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;From what far clime (said she) remote from fame<br/>
+Arrivest thou here, a stranger to our name?<br/>
+Thou seest an island, not to those unknown<br/>
+Whose hills are brighten&rsquo;d by the rising sun,<br/>
+Nor those that placed beneath his utmost reign<br/>
+Behold him sinking in the western main.<br/>
+The rugged soil allows no level space<br/>
+For flying chariots, or the rapid race;<br/>
+Yet, not ungrateful to the peasant&rsquo;s pain,<br/>
+Suffices fulness to the swelling grain;<br/>
+The loaded trees their various fruits produce,<br/>
+And clustering grapes afford a generous juice;<br/>
+Woods crown our mountains, and in every grove<br/>
+The bounding goats and frisking heifers rove;<br/>
+Soft rains and kindly dews refresh the field,<br/>
+And rising springs eternal verdure yield.<br/>
+E&rsquo;en to those shores is Ithaca renown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Where Troy&rsquo;s majestic ruins strew the ground.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this, the chief with transport was possess&rsquo;d;<br/>
+His panting heart exulted in his breast;<br/>
+Yet, well dissembling his untimely joys,<br/>
+And veiling truth in plausible disguise,<br/>
+Thus, with an air sincere, in fiction bold,<br/>
+His ready tale the inventive hero told:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oft have I heard in Crete this island&rsquo;s name;<br/>
+For &rsquo;twas from Crete, my native soil, I came,<br/>
+Self-banished thence. I sail&rsquo;d before the wind,<br/>
+And left my children and my friends behind.<br/>
+From fierce Idomeneus&rsquo; revenge I flew,<br/>
+Whose son, the swift Orsilochus, I slew<br/>
+(With brutal force he seized my Trojan prey,<br/>
+Due to the toils of many a bloody day).<br/>
+Unseen I &rsquo;scaped, and favour&rsquo;d by the night,<br/>
+In a Phoenician vessel took my flight,<br/>
+For Pyle or Elis bound; but tempests toss&rsquo;d<br/>
+And raging billows drove us on your coast.<br/>
+In dead of night an unknown port we gain&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Spent with fatigue, and slept secure on land.<br/>
+But ere the rosy morn renew&rsquo;d the day,<br/>
+While in the embrace of pleasing sleep I lay,<br/>
+Sudden, invited by auspicious gales,<br/>
+They land my goods, and hoist their flying sails.<br/>
+Abandon&rsquo;d here, my fortune I deplore<br/>
+A hapless exile on a foreign shore,&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus while he spoke, the blue-eyed maid began<br/>
+With pleasing smiles to view the godlike man;<br/>
+Then changed her form: and now, divinely bright,<br/>
+Jove&rsquo;s heavenly daughter stood confess&rsquo;d to sight;<br/>
+Like a fair virgin in her beauty&rsquo;s bloom,<br/>
+Skill&rsquo;d in the illustrious labours of the loom.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O still the same Ulysses! (she rejoin&rsquo;d,)<br/>
+In useful craft successfully refined!<br/>
+Artful in speech, in action, and in mind!<br/>
+Sufficed it not, that, thy long labours pass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Secure thou seest thy native shore at last?<br/>
+But this to me? who, like thyself, excel<br/>
+In arts of counsel and dissembling well;<br/>
+To me? whose wit exceeds the powers divine,<br/>
+No less than mortals are surpass&rsquo;d by thine.<br/>
+Know&rsquo;st thou not me; who made thy life my care,<br/>
+Through ten years&rsquo; wandering, and through ten years&rsquo; war;<br/>
+Who taught thee arts, Alcinous to persuade,<br/>
+To raise his wonder, and engage his aid;<br/>
+And now appear, thy treasures to protect,<br/>
+Conceal thy person, thy designs direct,<br/>
+And tell what more thou must from Fate expect;<br/>
+Domestic woes far heavier to be borne!<br/>
+The pride of fools, and slaves&rsquo; insulting scorn?<br/>
+But thou be silent, nor reveal thy state;<br/>
+Yield to the force of unresisted Fate,<br/>
+And bear unmoved the wrongs of base mankind,<br/>
+The last, and hardest, conquest of the mind.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Goddess of wisdom! (Ithacus replies,)<br/>
+He who discerns thee must be truly wise,<br/>
+So seldom view&rsquo;d and ever in disguise!<br/>
+When the bold Argives led their warring powers,<br/>
+Against proud Ilion&rsquo;s well-defended towers,<br/>
+Ulysses was thy care, celestial maid!<br/>
+Graced with thy sight, and favoured with thy aid.<br/>
+But when the Trojan piles in ashes lay,<br/>
+And bound for Greece we plough&rsquo;d the watery way;<br/>
+Our fleet dispersed, and driven from coast to coast,<br/>
+Thy sacred presence from that hour I lost;<br/>
+Till I beheld thy radiant form once more,<br/>
+And heard thy counsels on Phæacia&rsquo;s shore.<br/>
+But, by the almighty author of thy race,<br/>
+Tell me, oh tell, is this my native place?<br/>
+For much I fear, long tracts of land and sea<br/>
+Divide this coast from distant Ithaca;<br/>
+The sweet delusion kindly you impose,<br/>
+To soothe my hopes, and mitigate my woes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus he. The blue-eyed goddess thus replies;<br/>
+&ldquo;How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise!<br/>
+Who, versed in fortune, fear the flattering show,<br/>
+And taste not half the bliss the gods bestow.<br/>
+The more shall Pallas aid thy just desires,<br/>
+And guard the wisdom which herself inspires.<br/>
+Others long absent from their native place,<br/>
+Straight seek their home, and fly with eager pace<br/>
+To their wives&rsquo; arms, and children&rsquo;s dear embrace.<br/>
+Not thus Ulysses; he decrees to prove<br/>
+His subjects&rsquo; faith, and queen&rsquo;s suspected love;<br/>
+Who mourn&rsquo;d her lord twice ten revolving years,<br/>
+And wastes the days in grief, the nights in tears.<br/>
+But Pallas knew (thy friends and navy lost)<br/>
+Once more &rsquo;twas given thee to behold thy coast;<br/>
+Yet how could I with adverse Fate engage,<br/>
+And mighty Neptune&rsquo;s unrelenting rage?<br/>
+Now lift thy longing eyes, while I restore<br/>
+The pleasing prospect of thy native shore.<br/>
+Bebold the port of Phorcys! fenced around<br/>
+With rocky mountains, and with olives crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Behold the gloomy grot! whose cool recess<br/>
+Delights the Nereids of the neighbouring seas;<br/>
+Whose now-neglected altars in thy reign<br/>
+Blush&rsquo;d with the blood of sheep and oxen slain,<br/>
+Behold! where Neritus the clouds divides,<br/>
+And shakes the waving forests on his sides.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So spake the goddess; and the prospect clear&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The mists dispersed, and all the coast appeared.<br/>
+The king with joy confess&rsquo;d his place of birth,<br/>
+And on his knees salutes his mother earth;<br/>
+Then, with his suppliant hands upheld in air,<br/>
+Thus to the sea-green sisters sends his prayer;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;All hail! ye virgin daughters of the main!<br/>
+Ye streams, beyond my hopes, beheld again!<br/>
+To you once more your own Ulysses bows;<br/>
+Attend his transports, and receive his vows!<br/>
+If Jove prolong my days, and Pallas crown<br/>
+The growing virtues of my youthful son,<br/>
+To you shall rites divine be ever paid,<br/>
+And grateful offerings on your altars laid.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus then Minerva: &ldquo;From that anxious breast<br/>
+Dismiss those cares, and leave to heaven the rest.<br/>
+Our task be now thy treasured stores to save,<br/>
+Deep in the close recesses of the cave;<br/>
+Then future means consult.&rdquo; She spoke, and trod<br/>
+The shady grot, that brighten&rsquo;d with the god.<br/>
+The closest caverns of the grot she sought;<br/>
+The gold, the brass, the robes, Ulysses brought;<br/>
+These in the secret gloom the chief disposed;<br/>
+The entrance with a rock the goddess closed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now, seated in the olive&rsquo;s sacred shade,<br/>
+Confer the hero and the martial maid.<br/>
+The goddess of the azure eyes began:<br/>
+&ldquo;Son of Laertes! much-experienced man!<br/>
+The suitor-train thy earliest care demand,<br/>
+Of that luxurious race to rid the land;<br/>
+Three years thy house their lawless rule has seen,<br/>
+And proud addresses to the matchless queen.<br/>
+But she thy absence mourns from day to day,<br/>
+And inly bleeds, and silent wastes away;<br/>
+Elusive of the bridal hour, she gives<br/>
+Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To this Ulysses: &ldquo;O celestial maid!<br/>
+Praised be thy counsel, and thy timely aid;<br/>
+Else had I seen my native walls in vain,<br/>
+Like great Atrides, just restored and slain.<br/>
+Vouchsafe the means of vengeance to debate,<br/>
+And plan with all thy arts the scene of fate.<br/>
+Then, then be present, and my soul inspire,<br/>
+As when we wrapp&rsquo;d Troy&rsquo;s heaven-built walls in fire.<br/>
+Though leagued against me hundred heroes stand.<br/>
+Hundreds shall fall, if Pallas aid my hand.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She answer&rsquo;d: &ldquo;In the dreadful day of fight<br/>
+Know, I am with thee, strong in all my might.<br/>
+If thou but equal to thyself be found,<br/>
+What gasping numbers then shall press the ground!<br/>
+What human victims stain the feastful floor!<br/>
+How wide the pavements float with guilty gore!<br/>
+It fits thee now to wear a dark disguise,<br/>
+And secret walk unknown to mortal eyes.<br/>
+For this, my hand shall wither every grace,<br/>
+And every elegance of form and face;<br/>
+O&rsquo;er thy smooth skin a bark of wrinkles spread,<br/>
+Turn hoar the auburn honours of thy head;<br/>
+Disfigure every limb with coarse attire,<br/>
+And in thy eyes extinguish all the fire;<br/>
+Add all the wants and the decays of life;<br/>
+Estrange thee from thy own; thy son, thy wife;<br/>
+From the loathed object every sight shall turn,<br/>
+And the blind suitors their destruction scorn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go first the master of thy herds to find,<br/>
+True to his charge, a loyal swain and kind;<br/>
+For thee he sighs; and to the loyal heir<br/>
+And chaste Penelope extends his care.<br/>
+At the Coracian rock he now resides,<br/>
+Where Arethusa&rsquo;s sable water glides;<br/>
+The sable water and the copious mast<br/>
+Swell the fat herd; luxuriant, large repast!<br/>
+With him rest peaceful in the rural cell,<br/>
+And all you ask his faithful tongue shall tell.<br/>
+Me into other realms my cares convey,<br/>
+To Sparta, still with female beauty gay;<br/>
+For know, to Sparta thy loved offspring came,<br/>
+To learn thy fortunes from the voice of Fame.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this the father, with a father&rsquo;s care:<br/>
+&ldquo;Must he too suffer? he, O goddess! bear<br/>
+Of wanderings and of woes a wretched share?<br/>
+Through the wild ocean plough the dangerous way,<br/>
+And leave his fortunes and his house a prey?<br/>
+Why would&rsquo;st not thou, O all-enlighten&rsquo;d mind!<br/>
+Inform him certain, and protect him, kind?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom Minerva: &ldquo;Be thy soul at rest;<br/>
+And know, whatever heaven ordains is best.<br/>
+To fame I sent him, to acquire renown;<br/>
+To other regions is his virtue known;<br/>
+Secure he sits, near great Atrides placed;<br/>
+With friendships strengthen&rsquo;d, and with honours graced,<br/>
+But lo! an ambush waits his passage o&rsquo;er;<br/>
+Fierce foes insidious intercept the shore;<br/>
+In vain; far sooner all the murderous brood<br/>
+This injured land shall fatten with their blood.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She spake, then touch&rsquo;d him with her powerful wand:<br/>
+The skin shrunk up, and wither&rsquo;d at her hand;<br/>
+A swift old age o&rsquo;er all his members spread;<br/>
+A sudden frost was sprinkled on his head;<br/>
+Nor longer in the heavy eye-ball shined<br/>
+The glance divine, forth-beaming from the mind.<br/>
+His robe, which spots indelible besmear,<br/>
+In rags dishonest flutters with the air:<br/>
+A stag&rsquo;s torn hide is lapp&rsquo;d around his reins;<br/>
+A rugged staff his trembling hand sustains;<br/>
+And at his side a wretched scrip was hung,<br/>
+Wide-patch&rsquo;d, and knotted to a twisted thong.<br/>
+So looked the chief, so moved: to mortal eyes<br/>
+Object uncouth! a man of miseries!<br/>
+While Pallas, cleaving the wild fields of air,<br/>
+To Sparta flies, Telemachus her care.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap14"></a>BOOK XIV.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE CONVERSATION WITH EUMAEUS.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Ulysses arrives in disguise at the house of Eumaeus, where he is received,
+entertained, and lodged with the utmost hospitality. The several discourses of
+that faithful old servant, with the feigned story told by Ulysses to conceal
+himself, and other conversations on various subjects, take up this entire book.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+But he, deep-musing, o&rsquo;er the mountains stray&rsquo;d<br/>
+Through mazy thickets of the woodland shade,<br/>
+And cavern&rsquo;d ways, the shaggy coast along<br/>
+With cliffs and nodding forests overhung.<br/>
+Eumaeus at his sylvan lodge he sought,<br/>
+A faithful servant, and without a fault.<br/>
+Ulysses found him busied as he sate<br/>
+Before the threshold of his rustic gate;<br/>
+Around the mansion in a circle shone<br/>
+A rural portico of rugged stone<br/>
+(In absence of his lord with honest toil<br/>
+His own industrious hands had raised the pile).<br/>
+The wall was stone from neighbouring quarries borne,<br/>
+Encircled with a fence of native thorn,<br/>
+And strong with pales, by many a weary stroke<br/>
+Of stubborn labour hewn from heart of oak:<br/>
+Frequent and thick. Within the space were rear&rsquo;d<br/>
+Twelve ample cells, the lodgments of his herd.<br/>
+Full fifty pregnant females each contain&rsquo;d;<br/>
+The males without (a smaller race) remain&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Doom&rsquo;d to supply the suitors&rsquo; wasteful feast,<br/>
+A stock by daily luxury decreased;<br/>
+Now scarce four hundred left. These to defend,<br/>
+Four savage dogs, a watchful guard, attend.<br/>
+Here sat Eumaeus, and his cares applied<br/>
+To form strong buskins of well-season&rsquo;d hide.<br/>
+Of four assistants who his labour share,<br/>
+Three now were absent on the rural care;<br/>
+The fourth drove victims to a suitor train:<br/>
+But he, of ancient faith, a simple swain,<br/>
+Sigh&rsquo;d, while he furnish&rsquo;d the luxurious board,<br/>
+And wearied Heaven with wishes for his lord.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Soon as Ulysses near the inclosure drew,<br/>
+With open mouths the furious mastiffs flew:<br/>
+Down sat the sage, and cautious to withstand,<br/>
+Let fall the offensive truncheon from his hand.<br/>
+Sudden, the master runs; aloud he calls;<br/>
+And from his hasty hand the leather falls:<br/>
+With showers of stones he drives then far away:<br/>
+The scattering dogs around at distance bay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Unhappy stranger! (thus the faithful swain<br/>
+Began with accent gracious and humane),<br/>
+What sorrow had been mine, if at my gate<br/>
+Thy reverend age had met a shameful fate!<br/>
+Enough of woes already have I known;<br/>
+Enough my master&rsquo;s sorrows and my own.<br/>
+While here (ungrateful task!) his herds I feed,<br/>
+Ordain&rsquo;d for lawless rioters to bleed!<br/>
+Perhaps, supported at another&rsquo;s board!<br/>
+Far from his country roams my hapless lord;<br/>
+Or sigh&rsquo;d in exile forth his latest breath,<br/>
+Now cover&rsquo;d with the eternal shade of death!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But enter this my homely roof, and see<br/>
+Our woods not void of hospitality.<br/>
+Then tell me whence thou art, and what the share<br/>
+Of woes and wanderings thou wert born to bear.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said, and, seconding the kind request,<br/>
+With friendly step precedes his unknown guest.<br/>
+A shaggy goat&rsquo;s soft hide beneath him spread,<br/>
+And with fresh rushes heap&rsquo;d an ample bed;<br/>
+Jove touch&rsquo;d the hero&rsquo;s tender soul, to find<br/>
+So just reception from a heart so kind:<br/>
+And &ldquo;Oh, ye gods! with all your blessings grace<br/>
+(He thus broke forth) this friend of human race!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The swain replied: &ldquo;It never was our guise<br/>
+To slight the poor, or aught humane despise:<br/>
+For Jove unfolds our hospitable door,<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis Jove that sends the stranger and the poor,<br/>
+Little, alas! is all the good I can<br/>
+A man oppress&rsquo;d, dependent, yet a man:<br/>
+Accept such treatment as a swain affords,<br/>
+Slave to the insolence of youthful lords!<br/>
+Far hence is by unequal gods removed<br/>
+That man of bounties, loving and beloved!<br/>
+To whom whate&rsquo;er his slave enjoys is owed,<br/>
+And more, had Fate allow&rsquo;d, had been bestow&rsquo;d:<br/>
+But Fate condemn&rsquo;d him to a foreign shore;<br/>
+Much have I sorrow&rsquo;d, but my Master more.<br/>
+Now cold he lies, to death&rsquo;s embrace resign&rsquo;d:<br/>
+Ah, perish Helen! perish all her kind!<br/>
+For whose cursed cause, in Agamemnon&rsquo;s name,<br/>
+He trod so fatally the paths of fame.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His vest succinct then girding round his waist,<br/>
+Forth rush&rsquo;d the swain with hospitable haste.<br/>
+Straight to the lodgments of his herd he run,<br/>
+Where the fat porkers slept beneath the sun;<br/>
+Of two, his cutlass launch&rsquo;d the spouting blood;<br/>
+These quarter&rsquo;d, singed, and fix&rsquo;d on forks of wood,<br/>
+All hasty on the hissing coals he threw;<br/>
+And smoking, back the tasteful viands drew.<br/>
+Broachers and all then an the board display&rsquo;d<br/>
+The ready meal, before Ulysses laid<br/>
+With flour imbrown&rsquo;d; next mingled wine yet new,<br/>
+And luscious as the bees&rsquo; nectareous dew:<br/>
+Then sate, companion of the friendly feast,<br/>
+With open look; and thus bespoke his guest:<br/>
+&ldquo;Take with free welcome what our hands prepare,<br/>
+Such food as falls to simple servants&rsquo; share;<br/>
+The best our lords consume; those thoughtless peers,<br/>
+Rich without bounty, guilty without fears;<br/>
+Yet sure the gods their impious acts detest,<br/>
+And honour justice and the righteous breast.<br/>
+Pirates and conquerors of harden&rsquo;d mind,<br/>
+The foes of peace, and scourges of mankind,<br/>
+To whom offending men are made a prey<br/>
+When Jove in vengeance gives a land away;<br/>
+E&rsquo;en these, when of their ill-got spoils possess&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Find sure tormentors in the guilty breast:<br/>
+Some voice of God close whispering from within,<br/>
+&lsquo;Wretch! this is villainy, and this is sin.&rsquo;<br/>
+But these, no doubt, some oracle explore,<br/>
+That tells, the great Ulysses is no more.<br/>
+Hence springs their confidence, and from our sighs<br/>
+Their rapine strengthens, and their riots rise:<br/>
+Constant as Jove the night and day bestows,<br/>
+Bleeds a whole hecatomb, a vintage flows.<br/>
+None match&rsquo;d this hero&rsquo;s wealth, of all who reign<br/>
+O&rsquo;er the fair islands of the neighbouring main.<br/>
+Nor all the monarchs whose far-dreaded sway<br/>
+The wide-extended continents obey:<br/>
+First, on the main land, of Ulysses&rsquo; breed<br/>
+Twelve herds, twelve flocks, on ocean&rsquo;s margin feed;<br/>
+As many stalls for shaggy goats are rear&rsquo;d;<br/>
+As many lodgments for the tusky herd;<br/>
+Two foreign keepers guard: and here are seen<br/>
+Twelve herds of goats that graze our utmost green;<br/>
+To native pastors is their charge assign&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And mine the care to feed the bristly kind;<br/>
+Each day the fattest bleeds of either herd,<br/>
+All to the suitors&rsquo; wasteful board preferr&rsquo;d.&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus he, benevolent: his unknown guest<br/>
+With hunger keen devours the savoury feast;<br/>
+While schemes of vengeance ripen in his breast.<br/>
+Silent and thoughtful while the board he eyed,<br/>
+Eumaeus pours on high the purple tide;<br/>
+The king with smiling looks his joy express&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And thus the kind inviting host address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say now, what man is he, the man deplored,<br/>
+So rich, so potent, whom you style your lord?<br/>
+Late with such affluence and possessions bless&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And now in honour&rsquo;s glorious bed at rest.<br/>
+Whoever was the warrior, he must be<br/>
+To fame no stranger, nor perhaps to me:<br/>
+Who (so the gods and so the Fates ordain&rsquo;d)<br/>
+Have wander&rsquo;d many a sea, and many a land.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Small is the faith the prince and queen ascribe<br/>
+(Replied Eumaeus) to the wandering tribe.<br/>
+For needy strangers still to flattery fly,<br/>
+And want too oft betrays the tongue to lie.<br/>
+Each vagrant traveller, that touches here,<br/>
+Deludes with fallacies the royal ear,<br/>
+To dear remembrance makes his image rise,<br/>
+And calls the springing sorrows from her eyes.<br/>
+Such thou mayst be. But he whose name you crave<br/>
+Moulders in earth, or welters on the wave,<br/>
+Or food for fish or dogs his relics lie,<br/>
+Or torn by birds are scatter&rsquo;d through the sky.<br/>
+So perish&rsquo;d he: and left (for ever lost)<br/>
+Much woe to all, but sure to me the most.<br/>
+So mild a master never shall I find;<br/>
+Less dear the parents whom I left behind,<br/>
+Less soft my mother, less my father kind.<br/>
+Not with such transport would my eyes run o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+Again to hail them in their native shore,<br/>
+As loved Ulysses once more to embrace,<br/>
+Restored and breathing in his natal place.<br/>
+That name for ever dread, yet ever dear,<br/>
+E&rsquo;en in his absence I pronounce with fear:<br/>
+In my respect, he bears a prince&rsquo;s part;<br/>
+But lives a very brother in my heart.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus spoke the faithful swain, and thus rejoin&rsquo;d<br/>
+The master of his grief, the man of patient mind:<br/>
+&ldquo;Ulysses, friend! shall view his old abodes<br/>
+(Distrustful as thou art), nor doubt the gods.<br/>
+Nor speak I rashly, but with faith averr&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And what I speak attesting Heaven has heard.<br/>
+If so, a cloak and vesture be my meed:<br/>
+Till his return no title shall I plead,<br/>
+Though certain be my news, and great my need.<br/>
+Whom want itself can force untruths to tell,<br/>
+My soul detests him as the gates of hell.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thou first be witness, hospitable Jove!<br/>
+And every god inspiring social love!<br/>
+And witness every household power that waits,<br/>
+Guard of these fires, and angel of these gates!<br/>
+Ere the next moon increase or this decay,<br/>
+His ancient realms Ulysses shall survey,<br/>
+In blood and dust each proud oppressor mourn,<br/>
+And the lost glories of his house return.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nor shall that meed be thine, nor ever more<br/>
+Shall loved Ulysses hail this happy shore.<br/>
+(Replied Eumaeus): to the present hour<br/>
+Now turn thy thought, and joys within our power.<br/>
+From sad reflection let my soul repose;<br/>
+The name of him awakes a thousand woes.<br/>
+But guard him, gods! and to these arms restore!<br/>
+Not his true consort can desire him more;<br/>
+Not old Laertes, broken with despair:<br/>
+Not young Telemachus, his blooming heir.<br/>
+Alas, Telemachus! my sorrows flow<br/>
+Afresh for thee, my second cause of woe!<br/>
+Like some fair plant set by a heavenly hand,<br/>
+He grew, he flourish&rsquo;d, and he bless&rsquo;d the land;<br/>
+In all the youth his father&rsquo;s image shined,<br/>
+Bright in his person, brighter in his mind.<br/>
+What man, or god, deceived his better sense,<br/>
+Far on the swelling seas to wander hence?<br/>
+To distant Pylos hapless is he gone,<br/>
+To seek his father&rsquo;s fate and find his own!<br/>
+For traitors wait his way, with dire design<br/>
+To end at once the great Arcesian line.<br/>
+But let us leave him to their wills above;<br/>
+The fates of men are in the hand of Jove.<br/>
+And now, my venerable guest! declare<br/>
+Your name, your parents, and your native air:<br/>
+Sincere from whence begun, your course relate,<br/>
+And to what ship I owe the friendly freight?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus he: and thus (with prompt invention bold)<br/>
+The cautious chief his ready story told.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;On dark reserve what better can prevail,<br/>
+Or from the fluent tongue produce the tale,<br/>
+Than when two friends, alone, in peaceful place<br/>
+Confer, and wines and cates the table grace;<br/>
+But most, the kind inviter&rsquo;s cheerful face?<br/>
+Thus might we sit, with social goblets crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Till the whole circle of the year goes round:<br/>
+Not the whole circle of the year would close<br/>
+My long narration of a life of woes.<br/>
+But such was Heaven&rsquo;s high will! Know then, I came<br/>
+From sacred Crete, and from a sire of fame:<br/>
+Castor Hylacides (that name he bore),<br/>
+Beloved and honour&rsquo;d in his native shore;<br/>
+Bless&rsquo;d in his riches, in his children more.<br/>
+Sprung of a handmaid, from a bought embrace,<br/>
+I shared his kindness with his lawful race:<br/>
+But when that fate, which all must undergo,<br/>
+From earth removed him to the shades below,<br/>
+The large domain his greedy sons divide,<br/>
+And each was portion&rsquo;d as the lots decide.<br/>
+Little, alas! was left my wretched share,<br/>
+Except a house, a covert from the air:<br/>
+But what by niggard fortune was denied,<br/>
+A willing widow&rsquo;s copious wealth supplied.<br/>
+My valour was my plea, a gallant mind,<br/>
+That, true to honour, never lagg&rsquo;d behind<br/>
+(The sex is ever to a soldier kind).<br/>
+Now wasting years my former strength confound,<br/>
+And added woes have bow&rsquo;d me to the ground;<br/>
+Yet by the stubble you may guess the grain,<br/>
+And mark the ruins of no vulgar man.<br/>
+Me, Pallas gave to lead the martial storm,<br/>
+And the fair ranks of battle to deform;<br/>
+Me, Mars inspired to turn the foe to flight,<br/>
+And tempt the secret ambush of the night.<br/>
+Let ghastly Death in all his forms appear,<br/>
+I saw him not, it was not mine to fear.<br/>
+Before the rest I raised my ready steel,<br/>
+The first I met, he yielded, or he fell.<br/>
+But works of peace my soul disdain&rsquo;d to bear,<br/>
+The rural labour, or domestic care.<br/>
+To raise the mast, the missile dart to wing,<br/>
+And send swift arrows from the bounding string,<br/>
+Were arts the gods made grateful to my mind;<br/>
+Those gods, who turn (to various ends design&rsquo;d)<br/>
+The various thoughts and talents of mankind.<br/>
+Before the Grecians touch&rsquo;d the Trojan plain,<br/>
+Nine times commander or by land or main,<br/>
+In foreign fields I spread my glory far,<br/>
+Great in the praise, rich in the spoils of war;<br/>
+Thence charged with riches, as increased in fame,<br/>
+To Crete return&rsquo;d, an honourable name.<br/>
+But when great Jove that direful war decreed,<br/>
+Which roused all Greece, and made the mighty bleed;<br/>
+Our states myself and Idomen employ<br/>
+To lead their fleets, and carry death to Troy.<br/>
+Nine years we warr&rsquo;d; the tenth saw Ilion fall;<br/>
+Homeward we sail&rsquo;d, but heaven dispersed us all.<br/>
+One only month my wife enjoy&rsquo;d my stay;<br/>
+So will&rsquo;d the god who gives and takes away.<br/>
+Nine ships I mann&rsquo;d, equipp&rsquo;d with ready stores,<br/>
+Intent to voyage to the Ægyptian shores;<br/>
+In feast and sacrifice my chosen train<br/>
+Six days consum&rsquo;d; the seventh we plough&rsquo;d the main.<br/>
+Crete&rsquo;s ample fields diminish to our eye;<br/>
+Before the Boreal blast the vessels fly;<br/>
+Safe through the level seas we sweep our way;<br/>
+The steersman governs, and the ships obey.<br/>
+The fifth fair morn we stem the Ægyptian tide,<br/>
+And tilting o&rsquo;er the bay the vessels ride:<br/>
+To anchor there my fellows I command,<br/>
+And spies commission to explore the land.<br/>
+But, sway&rsquo;d by lust of gain, and headlong will,<br/>
+The coasts they ravage, and the natives kill.<br/>
+The spreading clamour to their city flies,<br/>
+And horse and foot in mingled tumult rise.<br/>
+The reddening dawn reveals the circling fields,<br/>
+Horrid with bristly spears, and glancing shields.<br/>
+Jove thunder&rsquo;d on their side. Our guilty head<br/>
+We turn&rsquo;d to flight; the gathering vengeance spread<br/>
+On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lie dead.<br/>
+I then explored my thought, what course to prove<br/>
+(And sure the thought was dictated by Jove):<br/>
+Oh, had he left me to that happier doom,<br/>
+And saved a life of miseries to come!<br/>
+The radiant helmet from my brows unlaced,<br/>
+And low on earth my shield and javelin cast,<br/>
+I meet the monarch with a suppliant&rsquo;s face,<br/>
+Approach his chariot, and his knees embrace,<br/>
+He heard, he saved, he placed me at his side;<br/>
+My state he pitied, and my tears he dried,<br/>
+Restrain&rsquo;d the rage the vengeful foe express&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And turn&rsquo;d the deadly weapons from my breast.<br/>
+Pious! to guard the hospitable rite,<br/>
+And fearing Jove, whom mercy&rsquo;s works delight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;In Ægypt thus with peace and plenty bless&rsquo;d,<br/>
+I lived (and happy still have lived) a guest.<br/>
+On seven bright years successive blessings wait;<br/>
+The next changed all the colour of my fate.<br/>
+A false Phoenician, of insiduous mind,<br/>
+Versed in vile arts, and foe to humankind,<br/>
+With semblance fair invites me to his home;<br/>
+I seized the proffer (ever fond to roam):<br/>
+Domestic in his faithless roof I stay&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Till the swift sun his annual circle made.<br/>
+To Libya then he mediates the way;<br/>
+With guileful art a stranger to betray,<br/>
+And sell to bondage in a foreign land:<br/>
+Much doubting, yet compell&rsquo;d I quit the strand,<br/>
+Through the mid seas the nimble pinnace sails,<br/>
+Aloof from Crete, before the northern gales:<br/>
+But when remote her chalky cliffs we lost,<br/>
+And far from ken of any other coast,<br/>
+When all was wild expanse of sea and air,<br/>
+Then doom&rsquo;d high Jove due vengeance to prepare.<br/>
+He hung a night of horrors o&rsquo;er their head<br/>
+(The shaded ocean blacken&rsquo;d as it spread):<br/>
+He launch&rsquo;d the fiery bolt: from pole to pole<br/>
+Broad burst the lightnings, deep the thunders roll;<br/>
+In giddy rounds the whirling ship is toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And all in clouds of smothering sulphur lost.<br/>
+As from a hanging rock&rsquo;s tremendous height,<br/>
+The sable crows with intercepted flight<br/>
+Drop endlong; scarr&rsquo;d, and black with sulphurous hue,<br/>
+So from the deck are hurl&rsquo;d the ghastly crew.<br/>
+Such end the wicked found! but Jove&rsquo;s intent<br/>
+Was yet to save the oppress&rsquo;d and innocent.<br/>
+Placed on the mast (the last resource of life)<br/>
+With winds and waves I held unequal strife:<br/>
+For nine long days the billows tilting o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+The tenth soft wafts me to Thesprotia&rsquo;s shore.<br/>
+The monarch&rsquo;s son a shipwreck&rsquo;d wretch relieved,<br/>
+The sire with hospitable rites received,<br/>
+And in his palace like a brother placed,<br/>
+With gifts of price and gorgeous garments graced<br/>
+While here I sojourn&rsquo;d, oft I heard the fame<br/>
+How late Ulysses to the country came.<br/>
+How loved, how honour&rsquo;d in this court he stay&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And here his whole collected treasure laid;<br/>
+I saw myself the vast unnumber&rsquo;d store<br/>
+Of steel elaborate, and refulgent ore,<br/>
+And brass high heap&rsquo;d amidst the regal dome;<br/>
+Immense supplies for ages yet to come!<br/>
+Meantime he voyaged to explore the will<br/>
+Of Jove, on high Dodona&rsquo;s holy hill,<br/>
+What means might best his safe return avail,<br/>
+To come in pomp, or bear a secret sail?<br/>
+Full oft has Phidon, whilst he pour&rsquo;d the wine,<br/>
+Attesting solemn all the powers divine,<br/>
+That soon Ulysses would return, declared<br/>
+The sailors waiting, and the ships prepared.<br/>
+But first the king dismiss&rsquo;d me from his shores,<br/>
+For fair Dulichium crown&rsquo;d with fruitful stores;<br/>
+To good Acastus&rsquo; friendly care consign&rsquo;d:<br/>
+But other counsels pleased the sailors&rsquo; mind:<br/>
+New frauds were plotted by the faithless train,<br/>
+And misery demands me once again.<br/>
+Soon as remote from shore they plough the wave,<br/>
+With ready hands they rush to seize their slave;<br/>
+Then with these tatter&rsquo;d rags they wrapp&rsquo;d me round<br/>
+(Stripp&rsquo;d of my own), and to the vessel bound.<br/>
+At eve, at Ithaca&rsquo;s delightful land<br/>
+The ship arriv&rsquo;d: forth issuing on the sand,<br/>
+They sought repast; while to the unhappy kind,<br/>
+The pitying gods themselves my chains unbind.<br/>
+Soft I descended, to the sea applied<br/>
+My naked breast, and shot along the tide.<br/>
+Soon pass&rsquo;d beyond their sight, I left the flood,<br/>
+And took the spreading shelter of the wood.<br/>
+Their prize escaped the faithless pirates mourn&rsquo;d;<br/>
+But deem&rsquo;d inquiry vain, and to their ships return&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Screen&rsquo;d by protecting gods from hostile eyes,<br/>
+They led me to a good man and a wise,<br/>
+To live beneath thy hospitable care,<br/>
+And wait the woes Heaven dooms me yet to bear.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Unhappy guest! whose sorrows touch my mind!<br/>
+(Thus good Eumaeus with a sigh rejoin&rsquo;d,)<br/>
+For real sufferings since I grieve sincere,<br/>
+Check not with fallacies the springing tear:<br/>
+Nor turn the passion into groundless joy<br/>
+For him whom Heaven has destined to destroy.<br/>
+Oh! had he perish&rsquo;d on some well-fought day,<br/>
+Or in his friend&rsquo;s embraces died away!<br/>
+That grateful Greece with streaming eyes might raise<br/>
+Historic marbles to record his praise;<br/>
+His praise, eternal on the faithful stone,<br/>
+Had with transmissive honours graced his son.<br/>
+Now, snatch&rsquo;d by harpies to the dreary coast,<br/>
+Sunk is the hero, and his glory lost!<br/>
+While pensive in this solitary den,<br/>
+Far from gay cities and the ways of men,<br/>
+I linger life; nor to the court repair,<br/>
+But when my constant queen commands my care;<br/>
+Or when, to taste her hospitable board,<br/>
+Some guest arrives, with rumours of her lord;<br/>
+And these indulge their want, and those their woe,<br/>
+And here the tears and there the goblets flow.<br/>
+By many such have I been warn&rsquo;d; but chief<br/>
+By one Aetolian robb&rsquo;d of all belief,<br/>
+Whose hap it was to this our roof to roam,<br/>
+For murder banish&rsquo;d from his native home.<br/>
+He swore, Ulysses on the coast of Crete<br/>
+Stay&rsquo;d but a season to refit his fleet;<br/>
+A few revolving months should waft him o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+Fraught with bold warriors, and a boundless store<br/>
+O thou! whom age has taught to understand,<br/>
+And Heaven has guided with a favouring hand!<br/>
+On god or mortal to obtrude a lie<br/>
+Forbear, and dread to flatter as to die.<br/>
+Nor for such ends my house and heart are free,<br/>
+But dear respect to Jove, and charity.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And why, O swain of unbelieving mind!<br/>
+(Thus quick replied the wisest of mankind)<br/>
+Doubt you my oath? yet more my faith to try,<br/>
+A solemn compact let us ratify,<br/>
+And witness every power that rules the sky!<br/>
+If here Ulysses from his labours rest,<br/>
+Be then my prize a tunic and a vest;<br/>
+And where my hopes invite me, straight transport<br/>
+In safety to Dulichium&rsquo;s friendly court.<br/>
+But if he greets not thy desiring eye,<br/>
+Hurl me from yon dread precipice on high:<br/>
+The due reward of fraud and perjury.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Doubtless, O guest! great laud and praise were mine<br/>
+(Replied the swain, for spotless faith divine),<br/>
+If after social rites and gifts bestow&rsquo;d,<br/>
+I stain&rsquo;d my hospitable hearth with blood.<br/>
+How would the gods my righteous toils succeed,<br/>
+And bless the hand that made a stranger bleed?<br/>
+No more&mdash;the approaching hours of silent night<br/>
+First claim refection, then to rest invite;<br/>
+Beneath our humble cottage let us haste,<br/>
+And here, unenvied, rural dainties taste.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus communed these; while to their lowly dome<br/>
+The full-fed swine return&rsquo;d with evening home;<br/>
+Compell&rsquo;d, reluctant, to their several sties,<br/>
+With din obstreperous, and ungrateful cries.<br/>
+Then to the slaves: &ldquo;Now from the herd the best<br/>
+Select in honour of our foreign guest:<br/>
+With him let us the genial banquet share,<br/>
+For great and many are the griefs we bear;<br/>
+While those who from our labours heap their board<br/>
+Blaspheme their feeder, and forget their lord.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus speaking, with despatchful hand he took<br/>
+A weighty axe, and cleft the solid oak;<br/>
+This on the earth he piled; a boar full fed,<br/>
+Of five years&rsquo; age, before the pile was led:<br/>
+The swain, whom acts of piety delight,<br/>
+Observant of the gods, begins the rite;<br/>
+First shears the forehead of the bristly boar,<br/>
+And suppliant stands, invoking every power<br/>
+To speed Ulysses to his native shore.<br/>
+A knotty stake then aiming at his head,<br/>
+Down dropped he groaning, and the spirit fled.<br/>
+The scorching flames climb round on every side;<br/>
+Then the singed members they with skill divide;<br/>
+On these, in rolls of fat involved with art,<br/>
+The choicest morsels lay from every part.<br/>
+Some in the flames bestrew&rsquo;d with flour they threw;<br/>
+Some cut in fragments from the forks they drew:<br/>
+These while on several tables they dispose.<br/>
+A priest himself the blameless rustic rose;<br/>
+Expert the destined victim to dispart<br/>
+In seven just portions, pure of hand and heart.<br/>
+One sacred to the nymphs apart they lay:<br/>
+Another to the winged son of May;<br/>
+The rural tribe in common share the rest,<br/>
+The king the chine, the honour of the feast,<br/>
+Who sate delighted at his servant&rsquo;s board;<br/>
+The faithful servant joy&rsquo;d his unknown lord.<br/>
+&ldquo;Oh be thou dear (Ulysses cried) to Jove,<br/>
+As well thou claim&rsquo;st a grateful stranger&rsquo;s love!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be then thy thanks (the bounteous swain replied)<br/>
+Enjoyment of the good the gods provide.<br/>
+From God&rsquo;s own hand descend our joys and woes;<br/>
+These he decrees, and he but suffers those:<br/>
+All power is his, and whatsoe&rsquo;er he wills,<br/>
+The will itself, omnipotent, fulfils.&rdquo;<br/>
+This said, the first-fruits to the gods he gave;<br/>
+Then pour&rsquo;d of offer&rsquo;d wine the sable wave:<br/>
+In great Ulysses&rsquo; hand he placed the bowl,<br/>
+He sate, and sweet refection cheer&rsquo;d his soul.<br/>
+The bread from canisters Mesaulius gave<br/>
+(Eumaeus&rsquo; proper treasure bought this slave,<br/>
+And led from Taphos, to attend his board,<br/>
+A servant added to his absent lord);<br/>
+His task it was the wheaten loaves to lay,<br/>
+And from the banquet take the bowls away.<br/>
+And now the rage of hunger was repress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And each betakes him to his couch to rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now came the night, and darkness cover&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er<br/>
+The face of things; the winds began to roar;<br/>
+The driving storm the watery west-wind pours,<br/>
+And Jove descends in deluges of showers.<br/>
+Studious of rest and warmth, Ulysses lies,<br/>
+Foreseeing from the first the storm would rise<br/>
+In mere necessity of coat and cloak,<br/>
+With artful preface to his host he spoke:<br/>
+&ldquo;Hear me, my friends! who this good banquet grace;<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis sweet to play the fool in time and place,<br/>
+And wine can of their wits the wise beguile,<br/>
+Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile,<br/>
+The grave in merry measures frisk about,<br/>
+And many a long-repented word bring out.<br/>
+Since to be talkative I now commence,<br/>
+Let wit cast off the sullen yoke of sense.<br/>
+Once I was strong (would Heaven restore those days!)<br/>
+And with my betters claim&rsquo;d a share of praise.<br/>
+Ulysses, Menelaus, led forth a band,<br/>
+And join&rsquo;d me with them (&rsquo;twas their own command);<br/>
+A deathful ambush for the foe to lay,<br/>
+Beneath Troy walls by night we took our way:<br/>
+There, clad in arms, along the marshes spread,<br/>
+We made the osier-fringed bank our bed.<br/>
+Full soon the inclemency of heaven I feel,<br/>
+Nor had these shoulders covering, but of steel.<br/>
+Sharp blew the north; snow whitening all the fields<br/>
+Froze with the blast, and gathering glazed our shields.<br/>
+There all but I, well fenced with cloak and vest,<br/>
+Lay cover&rsquo;d by their ample shields at rest.<br/>
+Fool that I was! I left behind my own,<br/>
+The skill of weather and of winds unknown,<br/>
+And trusted to my coat and shield alone!<br/>
+When now was wasted more than half the night,<br/>
+And the stars faded at approaching light,<br/>
+Sudden I jogg&rsquo;d Ulysses, who was laid<br/>
+Fast by my side, and shivering thus I said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Here longer in this field I cannot lie;<br/>
+The winter pinches, and with cold I die,<br/>
+And die ashamed (O wisest of mankind),<br/>
+The only fool who left his cloak behind.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He thought and answer&rsquo;d: hardly waking yet,<br/>
+Sprung in his mind a momentary wit<br/>
+(That wit, which or in council or in fight,<br/>
+Still met the emergence, and determined right).<br/>
+&lsquo;Hush thee (he cried, soft whispering in my ear),<br/>
+Speak not a word, lest any Greek may hear&rsquo;&mdash;<br/>
+And then (supporting on his arm his head),<br/>
+&lsquo;Hear me, companions! (thus aloud he said:)<br/>
+Methinks too distant from the fleet we lie:<br/>
+E&rsquo;en now a vision stood before my eye,<br/>
+And sure the warning vision was from high:<br/>
+Let from among us some swift courier rise,<br/>
+Haste to the general, and demand supplies.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Up started Thoas straight, Andraemon&rsquo;s son,<br/>
+Nimbly he rose, and cast his garment down!<br/>
+Instant, the racer vanish&rsquo;d off the ground;<br/>
+That instant in his cloak I wrapp&rsquo;d me round:<br/>
+And safe I slept, till brightly-dawning shone<br/>
+The morn conspicuous on her golden throne.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh were my strength as then, as then my age!<br/>
+Some friend would fence me from the winter&rsquo;s rage.<br/>
+Yet, tatter&rsquo;d as I look, I challenged then<br/>
+The honours and the offices of men:<br/>
+Some master, or some servant would allow<br/>
+A cloak and vest&mdash;but I am nothing now!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well hast thou spoke (rejoin&rsquo;d the attentive swain):<br/>
+Thy lips let fall no idle word or vain!<br/>
+Nor garment shalt thou want, nor aught beside,<br/>
+Meet for the wandering suppliant to provide.<br/>
+But in the morning take thy clothes again,<br/>
+For here one vest suffices every swain:<br/>
+No change of garments to our hinds is known;<br/>
+But when return&rsquo;d, the good Ulysses&rsquo; son<br/>
+With better hand shall grace with fit attires<br/>
+His guest, and send thee where thy soul desires.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The honest herdsman rose, as this he said,<br/>
+And drew before the hearth the stranger&rsquo;s bed;<br/>
+The fleecy spoils of sheep, a goat&rsquo;s rough hide<br/>
+He spreads; and adds a mantle thick and wide;<br/>
+With store to heap above him, and below,<br/>
+And guard each quarter as the tempests blow.<br/>
+There lay the king, and all the rest supine;<br/>
+All, but the careful master of the swine:<br/>
+Forth hasted he to tend his bristly care;<br/>
+Well arm&rsquo;d, and fenced against nocturnal air:<br/>
+His weighty falchion o&rsquo;er his shoulder tied:<br/>
+His shaggy cloak a mountain goat supplied:<br/>
+With his broad spear the dread of dogs and men,<br/>
+He seeks his lodging in the rocky den.<br/>
+There to the tusky herd he bends his way,<br/>
+Where, screen&rsquo;d from Boreas, high o&rsquo;erarch&rsquo;d they lay.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap15"></a>BOOK XV.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE RETURN OF TELEMACHUS.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+The goddess Minerva commands Telemachus in a vision to return to Ithaca.
+Pisistratus and he take leave of Menelaus, and arrive at Pylos, where they
+part: and Telemachus sets sail, after having received on board Theoclymenus the
+soothsayer. The scene then changes to the cottage of Eumaeus, who entertains
+Ulysses with a recital of his adventures. In the meantime Telemachus arrives on
+the coast, and sending the vessel to the town, proceeds by himself to the lodge
+of Eumaeus.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Now had Minerva reach&rsquo;d those ample plains,<br/>
+Famed for the dance, where Menelaus reigns:<br/>
+Anxious she flies to great Ulysses&rsquo; heir,<br/>
+His instant voyage challenged all her care.<br/>
+Beneath the royal portico display&rsquo;d,<br/>
+With Nestor&rsquo;s son Telemachus was laid:<br/>
+In sleep profound the son of Nestor lies;<br/>
+Not thine, Ulysses! Care unseal&rsquo;d his eyes:<br/>
+Restless he grieved, with various fears oppress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And all thy fortunes roll&rsquo;d within his breast.<br/>
+When, &ldquo;O Telemachus! (the goddess said)<br/>
+Too long in vain, too widely hast thou stray&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Thus leaving careless thy paternal right<br/>
+The robbers&rsquo; prize, the prey to lawless might.<br/>
+On fond pursuits neglectful while you roam,<br/>
+E&rsquo;en now the hand of rapine sacks the dome.<br/>
+Hence to Atrides; and his leave implore<br/>
+To launch thy vessel for thy natal shore;<br/>
+Fly, whilst thy mother virtuous yet withstands<br/>
+Her kindred&rsquo;s wishes, and her sire&rsquo;s commands;<br/>
+Through both, Eurymachus pursues the dame,<br/>
+And with the noblest gifts asserts his claim.<br/>
+Hence, therefore, while thy stores thy own remain;<br/>
+Thou know&rsquo;st the practice of the female train,<br/>
+Lost in the children of the present spouse,<br/>
+They slight the pledges of their former vows;<br/>
+Their love is always with the lover past;<br/>
+Still the succeeding flame expels the last.<br/>
+Let o&rsquo;er thy house some chosen maid preside,<br/>
+Till Heaven decrees to bless thee in a bride.<br/>
+But now thy more attentive ears incline,<br/>
+Observe the warnings of a power divine;<br/>
+For thee their snares the suitor lords shall lay<br/>
+In Samos&rsquo; sands, or straits of Ithaca;<br/>
+To seize thy life shall lurk the murderous band,<br/>
+Ere yet thy footsteps press thy native land.<br/>
+No!&mdash;sooner far their riot and their lust<br/>
+All-covering earth shall bury deep in dust!<br/>
+Then distant from the scatter&rsquo;d islands steer,<br/>
+Nor let the night retard thy full career;<br/>
+Thy heavenly guardian shall instruct the gales<br/>
+To smooth thy passage and supply thy sails:<br/>
+And when at Ithaca thy labour ends,<br/>
+Send to the town the vessel with thy friends;<br/>
+But seek thou first the master of the swine<br/>
+(For still to thee his loyal thoughts incline);<br/>
+There pass the night: while he his course pursues<br/>
+To bring Penelope the wish&rsquo;d-for news,<br/>
+That thou, safe sailing from the Pylian strand,<br/>
+Art come to bless her in thy native land.&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus spoke the goddess, and resumed her flight<br/>
+To the pure regions of eternal light,<br/>
+Meanwhile Pisistratus he gently shakes,<br/>
+And with these words the slumbering youth awakes:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Rise, son of Nestor; for the road prepare,<br/>
+And join the harness&rsquo;d coursers to the car.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What cause (he cried) can justify our flight<br/>
+To tempt the dangers of forbidding night?<br/>
+Here wait we rather, till approaching day<br/>
+Shall prompt our speed, and point the ready way.<br/>
+Nor think of flight before the Spartan king<br/>
+Shall bid farewell, and bounteous presents bring;<br/>
+Gifts, which to distant ages safely stored,<br/>
+The sacred act of friendship shall record.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus he. But when the dawn bestreak&rsquo;d the east,<br/>
+The king from Helen rose, and sought his guest.<br/>
+As soon as his approach the hero knew,<br/>
+The splendid mantle round him first he threw,<br/>
+Then o&rsquo;er his ample shoulders whirl&rsquo;d the cloak,<br/>
+Respectful met the monarch, and bespoke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hail, great Atrides, favour&rsquo;d of high Jove!<br/>
+Let not thy friends in vain for licence move.<br/>
+Swift let us measure back the watery way,<br/>
+Nor check our speed, impatient of delay.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If with desire so strong thy bosom glows,<br/>
+Ill (said the king) should I thy wish oppose;<br/>
+For oft in others freely I reprove<br/>
+The ill-timed efforts of officious love;<br/>
+Who love too much, hate in the like extreme,<br/>
+And both the golden mean alike condemn.<br/>
+Alike he thwarts the hospitable end,<br/>
+Who drives the free, or stays the hasty friend:<br/>
+True friendship&rsquo;s laws are by this rule express&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.<br/>
+Yet, stay, my friends, and in your chariot take<br/>
+The noblest presents that our love can make;<br/>
+Meantime commit we to our women&rsquo;s care<br/>
+Some choice domestic viands to prepare;<br/>
+The traveller, rising from the banquet gay,<br/>
+Eludes the labours of the tedious way,<br/>
+Then if a wider course shall rather please,<br/>
+Through spacious Argos and the realms of Greece,<br/>
+Atrides in his chariot shall attend;<br/>
+Himself thy convoy to each royal friend.<br/>
+No prince will let Ulysses&rsquo; heir remove<br/>
+Without some pledge, some monument of love:<br/>
+These will the caldron, these the tripod give;<br/>
+From those the well-pair&rsquo;d mules we shall receive,<br/>
+Or bowl emboss&rsquo;d whose golden figures live.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the youth, for prudence famed, replied:<br/>
+&ldquo;O monarch, care of heaven! thy people&rsquo;s pride!<br/>
+No friend in Ithaca my place supplies,<br/>
+No powerful hands are there, no watchful eyes:<br/>
+My stores exposed and fenceless house demand<br/>
+The speediest succour from my guardian hand;<br/>
+Lest, in a search too anxious and too vain,<br/>
+Of one lost joy, I lose what yet remain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His purpose when the generous warrior heard,<br/>
+He charged the household cates to be prepared.<br/>
+Now with the dawn, from his adjoining home,<br/>
+Was Boethoedes Eteoneus come;<br/>
+Swift at the word he forms the rising blaze,<br/>
+And o&rsquo;er the coals the smoking fragments lays.<br/>
+Meantime the king, his son, and Helen went<br/>
+Where the rich wardrobe breathed a costly scent;<br/>
+The king selected from the glittering rows<br/>
+A bowl; the prince a silver beaker chose.<br/>
+The beauteous queen revolved with careful eyes<br/>
+Her various textures of unnumber&rsquo;d dyes,<br/>
+And chose the largest; with no vulgar art<br/>
+Her own fair hands embroider&rsquo;d every part;<br/>
+Beneath the rest it lay divinely bright,<br/>
+Like radiant Hesper o&rsquo;er the gems of night,<br/>
+Then with each gift they hasten&rsquo;d to their guest,<br/>
+And thus the king Ulysses&rsquo; heir address&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;Since fix&rsquo;d are thy resolves, may thundering Jove<br/>
+With happiest omens thy desires approve!<br/>
+This silver bowl, whose costly margins shine<br/>
+Enchased with gold, this valued gift be thine;<br/>
+To me this present, of Vulcanian frame,<br/>
+From Sidon&rsquo;s hospitable monarch came;<br/>
+To thee we now consign the precious load,<br/>
+The pride of kings, and labour of a god.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then gave the cup, while Megapenthe brought<br/>
+The silver vase with living sculpture wrought.<br/>
+The beauteous queen, advancing next, display&rsquo;d<br/>
+The shining veil, and thus endearing said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Accept, dear youth, this monument of love,<br/>
+Long since, in better days, by Helen wove:<br/>
+Safe in thy mother&rsquo;s care the vesture lay,<br/>
+To deck thy bride and grace thy nuptial day.<br/>
+Meantime may&rsquo;st thou with happiest speed regain<br/>
+Thy stately palace, and thy wide domain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She said, and gave the veil; with grateful look<br/>
+The prince the variegated present took.<br/>
+And now, when through the royal dome they pass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+High on a throne the king each stranger placed.<br/>
+A golden ewer the attendant damsel brings,<br/>
+Replete with water from the crystal springs;<br/>
+With copious streams the shining vase supplies<br/>
+A silver layer of capacious size.<br/>
+They wash. The tables in fair order spread,<br/>
+The glittering canisters are crown&rsquo;d with bread;<br/>
+Viands of various kinds allure the taste,<br/>
+Of choicest sort and savour; rich repast!<br/>
+Whilst Eteoneus portions out the shares<br/>
+Atrides&rsquo; son the purple draught prepares,<br/>
+And now (each sated with the genial feast,<br/>
+And the short rage of thirst and hunger ceased)<br/>
+Ulysses&rsquo; son, with his illustrious friend,<br/>
+The horses join, the polish&rsquo;d car ascend,<br/>
+Along the court the fiery steeds rebound,<br/>
+And the wide portal echoes to the sound.<br/>
+The king precedes; a bowl with fragrant wine<br/>
+(Libation destined to the powers divine)<br/>
+His right hand held: before the steed he stands,<br/>
+Then, mix&rsquo;d with prayers, he utters these commands:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Farewell, and prosper, youths! let Nestor know<br/>
+What grateful thoughts still in this bosom glow,<br/>
+For all the proofs of his paternal care,<br/>
+Through the long dangers of the ten years&rsquo; war.&rdquo;<br/>
+&ldquo;Ah! doubt not our report (the prince rejoin&rsquo;d)<br/>
+Of all the virtues of thy generous mind.<br/>
+And oh! return&rsquo;d might we Ulysses meet!<br/>
+To him thy presents show, thy words repeat:<br/>
+How will each speech his grateful wonder raise!<br/>
+How will each gift indulge us in thy praise!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Scarce ended thus the prince, when on the right<br/>
+Advanced the bird of Jove: auspicious sight!<br/>
+A milk-white fowl his clinching talons bore,<br/>
+With care domestic pampered at the floor.<br/>
+Peasants in vain with threatening cries pursue,<br/>
+In solemn speed the bird majestic flew<br/>
+Full dexter to the car; the prosperous sight<br/>
+Fill&rsquo;d every breast with wonder and delight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Nestor&rsquo;s son the cheerful silence broke,<br/>
+And in these words the Spartan chief bespoke:<br/>
+&ldquo;Say if to us the gods these omens send,<br/>
+Or fates peculiar to thyself portend?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whilst yet the monarch paused, with doubts oppress&rsquo;d<br/>
+The beauteous queen relieved his labouring breast:<br/>
+&ldquo;Hear me (she cried), to whom the gods have given<br/>
+To read this sign, and mystic sense of heaven,<br/>
+As thus the plumy sovereign of the air<br/>
+Left on the mountain&rsquo;s brow his callow care,<br/>
+And wander&rsquo;d through the wide ethereal way<br/>
+To pour his wrath on yon luxurious prey;<br/>
+So shall thy godlike father, toss&rsquo;d in vain<br/>
+Through all the dangers of the boundless main,<br/>
+Arrive (or if perchance already come)<br/>
+From slaughter&rsquo;d gluttons to release the dome.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! if this promised bliss by thundering Jove<br/>
+(The prince replied) stand fix&rsquo;d in fate above;<br/>
+To thee, as to some god, I&rsquo;ll temples raise.<br/>
+And crown thy altars with the costly blaze.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said; and bending o&rsquo;er his chariot, flung<br/>
+Athwart the fiery steeds the smarting thong;<br/>
+The bounding shafts upon the harness play,<br/>
+Till night descending intercepts the way.<br/>
+To Diocles at Pherae they repair,<br/>
+Whose boasted sire was sacred Alpheus&rsquo; heir;<br/>
+With him all night the youthful stranger stay&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Nor found the hospitable rites unpaid,<br/>
+But soon as morning from her orient bed<br/>
+Had tinged the mountains with her earliest red,<br/>
+They join&rsquo;d the steeds, and on the chariot sprung,<br/>
+The brazen portals in their passage rung.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To Pylos soon they came; when thus begun<br/>
+To Nestor&rsquo;s heir Ulysses&rsquo; godlike son:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let not Pisistratus in vain be press&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Nor unconsenting hear his friend&rsquo;s request;<br/>
+His friend by long hereditary claim,<br/>
+In toils his equal, and in years the same.<br/>
+No farther from our vessel, I implore,<br/>
+The coursers drive; but lash them to the shore.<br/>
+Too long thy father would his friend detain;<br/>
+I dread his proffer&rsquo;d kindness urged in vain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The hero paused, and ponder&rsquo;d this request,<br/>
+While love and duty warr&rsquo;d within his breast.<br/>
+At length resolved, he turn&rsquo;d his ready hand,<br/>
+And lash&rsquo;d his panting coursers to the strand.<br/>
+There, while within the poop with care he stored<br/>
+The regal presents of the Spartan lord,<br/>
+&ldquo;With speed begone (said he); call every mate,<br/>
+Ere yet to Nestor I the tale relate:<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis true, the fervour of his generous heart<br/>
+Brooks no repulse, nor couldst thou soon depart:<br/>
+Himself will seek thee here, nor wilt thou find,<br/>
+In words alone, the Pylian monarch kind.<br/>
+But when, arrived, he thy return shall know<br/>
+How will his breast with honest fury glow!&rdquo;<br/>
+This said, the sounding strokes his horses fire,<br/>
+And soon he reached the palace of his sire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now (cried Telemachus) with speedy care<br/>
+Hoist every sail, and every oar prepare.&rdquo;<br/>
+Swift as the word his willing mates obey,<br/>
+And seize their seats, impatient for the sea.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meantime the prince with sacrifice adores<br/>
+Minerva, and her guardian aid implores;<br/>
+When lo! a wretch ran breathless to the shore,<br/>
+New from his crime; and reeking yet with gore.<br/>
+A seer he was, from great Melampus sprung,<br/>
+Melampus, who in Pylos flourish&rsquo;d long,<br/>
+Till, urged by wrongs, a foreign realm he chose,<br/>
+Far from the hateful cause of all his woes.<br/>
+Neleus his treasures one long year detains,<br/>
+As long he groan&rsquo;d in Philacus&rsquo;s chains:<br/>
+Meantime, what anguish and what rage combined<br/>
+For lovely Pero rack&rsquo;d his labouring mind!<br/>
+Yet &rsquo;scaped he death; and vengeful of his wrong<br/>
+To Pylos drove the lowing herds along:<br/>
+Then (Neleus vanquish&rsquo;d, and consign&rsquo;d the fair<br/>
+To Bias&rsquo; arms) he so sought a foreign air;<br/>
+Argos the rich for his retreat he chose,<br/>
+There form&rsquo;d his empire; there his palace rose.<br/>
+From him Antiphates and Mantius came:<br/>
+The first begot Oicleus great in fame,<br/>
+And he Amphiaraus, immortal name!<br/>
+The people&rsquo;s saviour, and divinely wise,<br/>
+Beloved by Jove, and him who gilds the skies;<br/>
+Yet short his date of life! by female pride he dies.<br/>
+From Mantius Clitus, whom Aurora&rsquo;s love<br/>
+Snatch&rsquo;d for his beauty to the thrones above;<br/>
+And Polyphides, on whom Phœbus shone<br/>
+With fullest rays, Amphiaraus now gone;<br/>
+In Hyperesia&rsquo;s groves he made abode,<br/>
+And taught mankind the counsels of the god.<br/>
+From him sprung Theoclymenus, who found<br/>
+(The sacred wine yet foaming on the ground)<br/>
+Telemachus: whom, as to Heaven he press&rsquo;d<br/>
+His ardent vows, the stranger thus address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O thou! that dost thy happy course prepare<br/>
+With pure libations and with solemn prayer:<br/>
+By that dread power to whom thy vows are paid;<br/>
+By all the lives of these; thy own dear head,<br/>
+Declare sincerely to no foe&rsquo;s demand<br/>
+Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Prepare, then (said Telemachus), to know<br/>
+A tale from falsehood free, not free from woe.<br/>
+From Ithaca, of royal birth I came,<br/>
+And great Ulysses (ever honour&rsquo;d name!)<br/>
+Once was my sire, though now, for ever lost,<br/>
+In Stygian gloom he glides a pensive ghost!<br/>
+Whose fate inquiring through the world we rove;<br/>
+The last, the wretched proof of filial love.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The stranger then: &ldquo;Nor shall I aught conceal,<br/>
+But the dire secret of my fate reveal.<br/>
+Of my own tribe an Argive wretch I slew;<br/>
+Whose powerful friends the luckless deed pursue<br/>
+With unrelenting rage, and force from home<br/>
+The blood-stain&rsquo;d exile, ever doom&rsquo;d to roam.<br/>
+But bear, oh bear me o&rsquo;er yon azure flood;<br/>
+Receive the suppliant! spare my destined blood!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Stranger (replied the prince) securely rest<br/>
+Affianced in our faith; henceforth our guest.&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus affable, Ulysses&rsquo; godlike heir<br/>
+Takes from the stranger&rsquo;s hand the glittering spear:<br/>
+He climbs the ship, ascends the stern with haste<br/>
+And by his side the guest accepted placed.<br/>
+The chief his order gives: the obedient band,<br/>
+With due observance wait the chief&rsquo;s command:<br/>
+With speed the mast they rear, with speed unbind<br/>
+The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind.<br/>
+Minerva calls; the ready gales obey<br/>
+With rapid speed to whirl them o&rsquo;er the sea.<br/>
+Crunus they pass&rsquo;d, next Chalcis roll&rsquo;d away,<br/>
+With thickening darkness closed the doubtful day;<br/>
+The silver Phaea&rsquo;s glittering rills they lost,<br/>
+And skimm&rsquo;d along by Elis&rsquo; sacred coast.<br/>
+Then cautious through the rocky reaches wind,<br/>
+And turning sudden, shun the death design&rsquo;d.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meantime, the king, Eumaeus, and the rest,<br/>
+Sate in the cottage, at their rural feast:<br/>
+The banquet pass&rsquo;d, and satiate every man,<br/>
+To try his host, Ulysses thus began:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yet one night more, my friends, indulge your guest;<br/>
+The last I purpose in your walls to rest:<br/>
+To-morrow for myself I must provide,<br/>
+And only ask your counsel, and a guide;<br/>
+Patient to roam the street, by hunger led,<br/>
+And bless the friendly hand that gives me bread.<br/>
+There in Ulysses&rsquo; roof I may relate<br/>
+Ulysses&rsquo; wanderings to his royal mate;<br/>
+Or, mingling with the suitors&rsquo; haughty train,<br/>
+Not undeserving some support obtain.<br/>
+Hermes to me his various gifts imparts.<br/>
+Patron of industry and manual arts:<br/>
+Few can with me in dexterous works contend,<br/>
+The pyre to build, the stubborn oak to rend;<br/>
+To turn the tasteful viand o&rsquo;er the flame;<br/>
+Or foam the goblet with a purple stream.<br/>
+Such are the tasks of men of mean estate,<br/>
+Whom fortune dooms to serve the rich and great.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Alas! (Eumaeus with a sigh rejoin&rsquo;d).<br/>
+How sprung a thought so monstrous in thy mind?<br/>
+If on that godless race thou would&rsquo;st attend,<br/>
+Fate owes thee sure a miserable end!<br/>
+Their wrongs and blasphemies ascend the sky,<br/>
+And pull descending vengeance from on high.<br/>
+Not such, my friend, the servants of their feast:<br/>
+A blooming train in rich embroidery dress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+With earth&rsquo;s whole tribute the bright table bends,<br/>
+And smiling round celestial youth attends.<br/>
+Stay, then: no eye askance beholds thee here;<br/>
+Sweet is thy converse to each social ear;<br/>
+Well pleased, and pleasing, in our cottage rest,<br/>
+Till good Telemachus accepts his guest<br/>
+With genial gifts, and change of fair attires,<br/>
+And safe conveys thee where thy soul desires.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To him the man of woes; &ldquo;O gracious Jove!<br/>
+Reward this stranger&rsquo;s hospitable love!<br/>
+Who knows the son of sorrow to relieve,<br/>
+Cheers the sad heart, nor lets affliction grieve.<br/>
+Of all the ills unhappy mortals know,<br/>
+A life of wanderings is the greatest woe;<br/>
+On all their weary ways wait care and pain,<br/>
+And pine and penury, a meagre train.<br/>
+To such a man since harbour you afford,<br/>
+Relate the farther fortunes of your lord;<br/>
+What cares his mother&rsquo;s tender breast engage,<br/>
+And sire forsaken on the verge of age;<br/>
+Beneath the sun prolong they yet their breath,<br/>
+Or range the house of darkness and of death?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the swain: &ldquo;Attend what you enquire;<br/>
+Laertes lives, the miserable sire,<br/>
+Lives, but implores of every power to lay<br/>
+The burden down, and wishes for the day.<br/>
+Torn from his offspring in the eve of life,<br/>
+Torn from the embraces of his tender wife,<br/>
+Sole, and all comfortless, he wastes away<br/>
+Old age, untimely posting ere his day.<br/>
+She too, sad mother! for Ulysses lost<br/>
+Pined out her bloom, and vanish&rsquo;d to a ghost;<br/>
+(So dire a fate, ye righteous gods! avert<br/>
+From every friendly, every feeling heart!)<br/>
+While yet she was, though clouded o&rsquo;er with grief.<br/>
+Her pleasing converse minister&rsquo;d relief:<br/>
+With Climene, her youngest daughter, bred,<br/>
+One roof contain&rsquo;d us, and one table fed.<br/>
+But when the softly-stealing pace of time<br/>
+Crept on from childhood into youthful prime,<br/>
+To Samos&rsquo; isle she sent the wedded fair;<br/>
+Me to the fields; to tend the rural care;<br/>
+Array&rsquo;d in garments her own hands had wove,<br/>
+Nor less the darling object of her love.<br/>
+Her hapless death my brighter days o&rsquo;ercast,<br/>
+Yet Providence deserts me not at last;<br/>
+My present labours food and drink procure,<br/>
+And more, the pleasure to relieve the poor.<br/>
+Small is the comfort from the queen to hear<br/>
+Unwelcome news, or vex the royal ear;<br/>
+Blank and discountenanced the servants stand,<br/>
+Nor dare to question where the proud command;<br/>
+No profit springs beneath usurping powers;<br/>
+Want feeds not there where luxury devours,<br/>
+Nor harbours charity where riot reigns:<br/>
+Proud are the lords, and wretched are the swains.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The suffering chief at this began to melt;<br/>
+And, &ldquo;O Eumaeus! thou (he cries) hast felt<br/>
+The spite of fortune too! her cruel hand<br/>
+Snatch&rsquo;d thee an infant from thy native land!<br/>
+Snatch&rsquo;d from thy parents&rsquo; arms, thy parents&rsquo; eyes,<br/>
+To early wants! a man of miseries!<br/>
+The whole sad story, from its first, declare:<br/>
+Sunk the fair city by the rage of war,<br/>
+Where once thy parents dwelt? or did they keep,<br/>
+In humbler life, the lowing herds and sheep?<br/>
+So left perhaps to tend the fleecy train,<br/>
+Rude pirates seized, and shipp&rsquo;d thee o&rsquo;er the main?<br/>
+Doom&rsquo;d a fair prize to grace some prince&rsquo;s board,<br/>
+The worthy purchase of a foreign lord.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If then my fortunes can delight my friend,<br/>
+A story fruitful of events attend:<br/>
+Another&rsquo;s sorrow may thy ears enjoy,<br/>
+And wine the lengthen&rsquo;d intervals employ.<br/>
+Long nights the now declining year bestows;<br/>
+A part we consecrate to soft repose,<br/>
+A part in pleasing talk we entertain;<br/>
+For too much rest itself becomes a pain.<br/>
+Let those, whom sleep invites, the call obey,<br/>
+Their cares resuming with the dawning day:<br/>
+Here let us feast, and to the feast be join&rsquo;d<br/>
+Discourse, the sweeter banquet of the mind;<br/>
+Review the series of our lives, and taste<br/>
+The melancholy joy of evils pass&rsquo;d:<br/>
+For he who much has suffer&rsquo;d, much will know,<br/>
+And pleased remembrance builds delight on woe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Above Ortygia lies an isle of fame,<br/>
+Far hence remote, and Syria is the name<br/>
+(There curious eyes inscribed with wonder trace<br/>
+The sun&rsquo;s diurnal, and his annual race);<br/>
+Not large, but fruitful; stored with grass to keep<br/>
+The bellowing oxen and the bleating sheep;<br/>
+Her sloping hills the mantling vines adorn,<br/>
+And her rich valleys wave with golden corn.<br/>
+No want, no famine, the glad natives know,<br/>
+Nor sink by sickness to the shades below;<br/>
+But when a length of years unnerves the strong,<br/>
+Apollo comes, and Cynthia comes along.<br/>
+They bend the silver bow with tender skill,<br/>
+And, void of pain, the silent arrows kill.<br/>
+Two equal tribes this fertile land divide,<br/>
+Where two fair cities rise with equal pride.<br/>
+But both in constant peace one prince obey,<br/>
+And Ctesius there, my father, holds the sway.<br/>
+Freighted, it seems, with toys of every sort,<br/>
+A ship of Sidon anchor&rsquo;d in our port;<br/>
+What time it chanced the palace entertain&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Skill&rsquo;d in rich works, a woman of their land:<br/>
+This nymph, where anchor&rsquo;d the Phoenician train,<br/>
+To wash her robes descending to the main,<br/>
+A smooth tongued sailor won her to his mind<br/>
+(For love deceives the best of womankind).<br/>
+A sudden trust from sudden liking grew;<br/>
+She told her name, her race, and all she knew,<br/>
+&lsquo;I too (she cried) from glorious Sidon came,<br/>
+My father Arybas, of wealthy fame:<br/>
+But, snatch&rsquo;d by pirates from my native place,<br/>
+The Taphians sold me to this man&rsquo;s embrace.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Haste then (the false designing youth replied),<br/>
+Haste to thy country; love shall be thy guide;<br/>
+Haste to thy father&rsquo;s house, thy father&rsquo;s breast,<br/>
+For still he lives, and lives with riches blest.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Swear first (she cried), ye sailors! to restore<br/>
+A wretch in safety to her native shore.&rsquo;<br/>
+Swift as she ask&rsquo;d, the ready sailors swore.<br/>
+She then proceeds: &lsquo;Now let our compact made<br/>
+Be nor by signal nor by word betray&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Nor near me any of your crew descried,<br/>
+By road frequented, or by fountain side.<br/>
+Be silence still our guard. The monarch&rsquo;s spies<br/>
+(For watchful age is ready to surmise)<br/>
+Are still at hand; and this, revealed, must be<br/>
+Death to yourselves, eternal chains to me.<br/>
+Your vessel loaded, and your traffic pass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Despatch a wary messenger with haste;<br/>
+Then gold and costly treasures will I bring,<br/>
+And more, the infant offspring of the king.<br/>
+Him, child-like wandering forth, I&rsquo;ll lead away<br/>
+(A noble prize!) and to your ship convey.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus spoke the dame, and homeward took the road.<br/>
+A year they traffic, and their vessel load.<br/>
+Their stores complete, and ready now to weigh,<br/>
+A spy was sent their summons to convey:<br/>
+An artist to my father&rsquo;s palace came,<br/>
+With gold and amber chains, elaborate frame:<br/>
+Each female eye the glittering links employ;<br/>
+They turn, review, and cheapen every toy.<br/>
+He took the occasion, as they stood intent,<br/>
+Gave her the sign, and to his vessel went.<br/>
+She straight pursued, and seized my willing arm;<br/>
+I follow&rsquo;d, smiling, innocent of harm.<br/>
+Three golden goblets in the porch she found<br/>
+(The guests not enter&rsquo;d, but the table crown&rsquo;d);<br/>
+Hid in her fraudful bosom these she bore:<br/>
+Now set the sun, and darken&rsquo;d all the shore.<br/>
+Arriving then, where tilting on the tides<br/>
+Prepared to launch the freighted vessel rides,<br/>
+Aboard they heave us, mount their decks, and sweep<br/>
+With level oar along the glassy deep.<br/>
+Six calmy days and six smooth nights we sail,<br/>
+And constant Jove supplied the gentle gale.<br/>
+The seventh, the fraudful wretch (no cause descried),<br/>
+Touch&rsquo;d by Diana&rsquo;s vengeful arrow, died.<br/>
+Down dropp&rsquo;d the caitiff-corse, a worthless load,<br/>
+Down to the deep; there roll&rsquo;d, the future food<br/>
+Of fierce sea-wolves, and monsters of the flood.<br/>
+An helpless infant I remain&rsquo;d behind;<br/>
+Thence borne to Ithaca by wave and wind;<br/>
+Sold to Laertes by divine command,<br/>
+And now adopted to a foreign land.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To him the king: &ldquo;Reciting thus thy cares,<br/>
+My secret soul in all thy sorrow shares;<br/>
+But one choice blessing (such is Jove&rsquo;s high will)<br/>
+Has sweeten&rsquo;d all thy bitter draught of ill:<br/>
+Torn from thy country to no hapless end,<br/>
+The gods have, in a master, given a friend.<br/>
+Whatever frugal nature needs is thine<br/>
+(For she needs little), daily bread and wine.<br/>
+While I, so many wanderings past, and woes,<br/>
+Live but on what thy poverty bestows.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So passed in pleasing dialogue away<br/>
+The night; then down to short repose they lay;<br/>
+Till radiant rose the messenger of day.<br/>
+While in the port of Ithaca, the band<br/>
+Of young Telemachus approach&rsquo;d the land;<br/>
+Their sails they loosed, they lash&rsquo;d the mast aside,<br/>
+And cast their anchors, and the cables tied:<br/>
+Then on the breezy shore, descending, join<br/>
+In grateful banquet o&rsquo;er the rosy wine.<br/>
+When thus the prince: &ldquo;Now each his course pursue;<br/>
+I to the fields, and to the city you.<br/>
+Long absent hence, I dedicate this day<br/>
+My swains to visit, and the works survey.<br/>
+Expect me with the morn, to pay the skies<br/>
+Our debt of safe return in feast and sacrifice.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Theoclymenus: &ldquo;But who shall lend,<br/>
+Meantime, protection to thy stranger friend?<br/>
+Straight to the queen and palace shall I fly,<br/>
+Or yet more distant, to some lord apply?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The prince return&rsquo;d: &ldquo;Renown&rsquo;d in days of yore<br/>
+Has stood our father&rsquo;s hospitable door;<br/>
+No other roof a stranger should receive,<br/>
+No other hands than ours the welcome give.<br/>
+But in my absence riot fills the place,<br/>
+Nor bears the modest queen a stranger&rsquo;s face;<br/>
+From noiseful revel far remote she flies,<br/>
+But rarely seen, or seen with weeping eyes.<br/>
+No&mdash;let Eurymachus receive my guest,<br/>
+Of nature courteous, and by far the best;<br/>
+He woos the queen with more respectful flame,<br/>
+And emulates her former husband&rsquo;s fame,<br/>
+With what success, &rsquo;tis Jove&rsquo;s alone to know,<br/>
+And the hoped nuptials turn to joy or woe.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus speaking, on the right up-soar&rsquo;d in air<br/>
+The hawk, Apollo&rsquo;s swift-wing&rsquo;d messenger:<br/>
+His dreadful pounces tore a trembling dove;<br/>
+The clotted feathers, scatter&rsquo;d from above,<br/>
+Between the hero and the vessel pour<br/>
+Thick plumage mingled with a sanguine shower.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The observing augur took the prince aside,<br/>
+Seized by the hand, and thus prophetic cried:<br/>
+&ldquo;Yon bird, that dexter cuts the aërial road,<br/>
+Rose ominous, nor flies without a god:<br/>
+No race but thine shall Ithaca obey,<br/>
+To thine, for ages, Heaven decrees the sway.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Succeed the omens, gods! (the youth rejoin&rsquo;d:)<br/>
+Soon shall my bounties speak a grateful mind,<br/>
+And soon each envied happiness attend<br/>
+The man who calls Telemachus his friend.&rdquo;<br/>
+Then to Peiraeus: &ldquo;Thou whom time has proved<br/>
+A faithful servant, by thy prince beloved!<br/>
+Till we returning shall our guest demand,<br/>
+Accept this charge with honour, at our hand.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To this Peiraeus: &ldquo;Joyful I obey,<br/>
+Well pleased the hospitable rites to pay.<br/>
+The presence of thy guest shall best reward<br/>
+(If long thy stay) the absence of my lord.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With that, their anchors he commands to weigh,<br/>
+Mount the tall bark, and launch into the sea.<br/>
+All with obedient haste forsake the shores,<br/>
+And, placed in order, spread their equal oars.<br/>
+Then from the deck the prince his sandals takes;<br/>
+Poised in his hand the pointed javelin shakes.<br/>
+They part; while, lessening from the hero&rsquo;s view<br/>
+Swift to the town the well-row&rsquo;d galley flew:<br/>
+The hero trod the margin of the main,<br/>
+And reach&rsquo;d the mansion of his faithful swain.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap16"></a>BOOK XVI.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE DISCOVERY OF ULYSSES TO TELEMACHUS.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Telemachus arriving at the lodge of Eumaeus, sends him to carry Penelope the
+news of his return. Minerva appearing to Ulysses, commands him to discover
+himself to his son. The princes, who had lain in ambush to intercept Telemachus
+in his way, their project being defeated, return to
+Ithaca.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Soon as the morning blush&rsquo;d along the plains,<br/>
+Ulysses, and the monarch of the swains,<br/>
+Awake the sleeping fires, their meals prepare,<br/>
+And forth to pasture send the bristly care.<br/>
+The prince&rsquo;s near approach the dogs descry,<br/>
+And fawning round his feet confess their joy.<br/>
+Their gentle blandishment the king survey&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Heard his resounding step, and instant said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Some well-known friend, Eumaeus, bends this way;<br/>
+His steps I hear; the dogs familiar play.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While yet he spoke, the prince advancing drew<br/>
+Nigh to the lodge, and now appear&rsquo;d in view.<br/>
+Transported from his seat Eumaeus sprung,<br/>
+Dropp&rsquo;d the full bowl, and round his bosom hung;<br/>
+Kissing his cheek, his hand, while from his eye<br/>
+The tears rain&rsquo;d copious in a shower of joy,<br/>
+As some fond sire who ten long winters grieves,<br/>
+From foreign climes an only son receives<br/>
+(Child of his age), with strong paternal joy,<br/>
+Forward he springs, and clasps the favourite boy:<br/>
+So round the youth his arms Eumaeus spread,<br/>
+As if the grave had given him from the dead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And is it thou? my ever-dear delight!<br/>
+Oh, art thou come to bless my longing sight?<br/>
+Never, I never hoped to view this day,<br/>
+When o&rsquo;er the waves you plough&rsquo;d the desperate way.<br/>
+Enter, my child! Beyond my hopes restored,<br/>
+Oh give these eyes to feast upon their lord.<br/>
+Enter, oh seldom seen! for lawless powers<br/>
+Too much detain thee from these sylvan bowers,&rdquo;<br/>
+The prince replied: &ldquo;Eumaeus, I obey;<br/>
+To seek thee, friend, I hither took my way.<br/>
+But say, if in the court the queen reside<br/>
+Severely chaste, or if commenced a bride?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus he; and thus the monarch of the swains:<br/>
+&ldquo;Severely chaste Penelope remains;<br/>
+But, lost to every joy, she wastes the day<br/>
+In tedious cares, and weeps the night away.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He ended, and (receiving as they pass<br/>
+The javelin pointed with a star of brass),<br/>
+They reach&rsquo;d the dome; the dome with marble shined.<br/>
+His seat Ulysses to the prince resign&rsquo;d.<br/>
+&ldquo;Not so (exclaims the prince with decent grace)<br/>
+For me, this house shall find an humbler place:<br/>
+To usurp the honours due to silver hairs<br/>
+And reverend strangers modest youth forbears.&rdquo;<br/>
+Instant the swain the spoils of beasts supplies,<br/>
+And bids the rural throne with osiers rise.<br/>
+There sate the prince: the feast Eumaeus spread,<br/>
+And heap&rsquo;d the shining canisters with bread.<br/>
+Thick o&rsquo;er the board the plenteous viands lay,<br/>
+The frugal remnants of the former day.<br/>
+Then in a bowl he tempers generous wines,<br/>
+Around whose verge a mimic ivy twines.<br/>
+And now, the rage of thirst and hunger fled,<br/>
+Thus young Ulysses to Eumaeus said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whence, father, from what shore this stranger, say?<br/>
+What vessel bore him o&rsquo;er the watery way?<br/>
+To human step our land impervious lies,<br/>
+And round the coast circumfluent oceans rise.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The swain returns: &ldquo;A tale of sorrows hear:<br/>
+In spacious Crete he drew his natal air;<br/>
+Long doom&rsquo;d to wander o&rsquo;er the land and main,<br/>
+For Heaven has wove his thread of life with pain.<br/>
+Half breathless &rsquo;scaping to the land he flew<br/>
+From Thesprot mariners, a murderous crew.<br/>
+To thee, my son, the suppliant I resign;<br/>
+I gave him my protection, grant him thine.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hard task (he cries) thy virtue gives thy friend,<br/>
+Willing to aid, unable to defend.<br/>
+Can strangers safely in the court reside,<br/>
+&rsquo;Midst the swell&rsquo;d insolence of lust and pride?<br/>
+E&rsquo;en I unsafe: the queen in doubt to wed,<br/>
+Or pay due honours to the nuptial bed.<br/>
+Perhaps she weds regardless of her fame,<br/>
+Deaf to the mighty Ulyssean name.<br/>
+However, stranger! from our grace receive<br/>
+Such honours as befit a prince to give;<br/>
+Sandals, a sword and robes, respect to prove,<br/>
+And safe to sail with ornaments of love.<br/>
+Till then, thy guest amid the rural train,<br/>
+Far from the court, from danger far, detain.<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis mine with food the hungry to supply,<br/>
+And clothe the naked from the inclement sky.<br/>
+Here dwell in safety from the suitors&rsquo; wrongs,<br/>
+And the rude insults of ungovern&rsquo;d tongues.<br/>
+For should&rsquo;st thou suffer, powerless to relieve,<br/>
+I must behold it, and can only grieve.<br/>
+The brave, encompass&rsquo;d by an hostile train,<br/>
+O&rsquo;erpower&rsquo;d by numbers, is but brave in vain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom, while anger in his bosom glows,<br/>
+With warmth replies the man of mighty woes:<br/>
+&ldquo;Since audience mild is deign&rsquo;d, permit my tongue<br/>
+At once to pity and resent thy wrong.<br/>
+My heart weeps blood to see a soul so brave<br/>
+Live to base insolence or power a slave,<br/>
+But tell me, dost thou, prince, dost thou behold,<br/>
+And hear their midnight revels uncontroll&rsquo;d?<br/>
+Say, do thy subjects in bold faction rise,<br/>
+Or priests in fabled oracles advise?<br/>
+Or are thy brothers, who should aid thy power,<br/>
+Turn&rsquo;d mean deserters in the needful hour?<br/>
+Oh that I were from great Ulysses sprung,<br/>
+Or that these wither&rsquo;d nerves like thine were strung,<br/>
+Or, heavens! might he return! (and soon appear<br/>
+He shall, I trust; a hero scorns despair:)<br/>
+Might he return, I yield my life a prey<br/>
+To my worst foe, if that avenging day<br/>
+Be not their last: but should I lose my life,<br/>
+Oppress&rsquo;d by numbers in the glorious strife,<br/>
+I chose the nobler part, and yield my breath,<br/>
+Rather than bear dishonor, worse than death;<br/>
+Than see the hand of violence invade<br/>
+The reverend stranger and the spotless maid;<br/>
+Than see the wealth of kings consumed in waste,<br/>
+The drunkard&rsquo;s revel, and the gluttons&rsquo; feast.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus he, with anger flashing from his eye;<br/>
+Sincere the youthful hero made reply:<br/>
+&ldquo;Nor leagued in factious arms my subjects rise,<br/>
+Nor priests in fabled oracles advise;<br/>
+Nor are my brothers, who should aid my power,<br/>
+Turn&rsquo;d mean deserters in the needful hour.<br/>
+Ah me! I boast no brother; heaven&rsquo;s dread King<br/>
+Gives from our stock an only branch to spring:<br/>
+Alone Laertes reign&rsquo;d Arcesius&rsquo; heir,<br/>
+Alone Ulysses drew the vital air,<br/>
+And I alone the bed connubial graced,<br/>
+An unbless&rsquo;d offspring of a sire unbless&rsquo;d!<br/>
+Each neighbouring realm, conducive to our woe,<br/>
+Sends forth her peers, and every peer a foe:<br/>
+The court proud Samos and Dulichium fills,<br/>
+And lofty Zacinth crown&rsquo;d with shady hills.<br/>
+E&rsquo;en Ithaca and all her lords invade<br/>
+The imperial sceptre, and the regal bed:<br/>
+The queen, averse to love, yet awed by power,<br/>
+Seems half to yield, yet flies the bridal hour:<br/>
+Meantime their licence uncontroll&rsquo;d I bear;<br/>
+E&rsquo;en now they envy me the vital air:<br/>
+But Heaven will sure revenge, and gods there are.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But go Eumaeus! to the queen impart<br/>
+Our safe return, and ease a mother&rsquo;s heart.<br/>
+Yet secret go; for numerous are my foes,<br/>
+And here at least I may in peace repose.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the swain: &ldquo;I hear and I obey:<br/>
+But old Laertes weeps his life away,<br/>
+And deems thee lost: shall I my speed employ<br/>
+To bless his age: a messenger of joy?<br/>
+The mournful hour that tore his son away<br/>
+Sent the sad sire in solitude to stray;<br/>
+Yet busied with his slaves, to ease his woe,<br/>
+He dress&rsquo;d the vine, and bade the garden blow,<br/>
+Nor food nor wine refused; but since the day<br/>
+That you to Pylos plough&rsquo;d the watery way,<br/>
+Nor wine nor food he tastes; but, sunk in woes,<br/>
+Wild springs the vine, no more the garden blows,<br/>
+Shut from the walks of men, to pleasure lost,<br/>
+Pensive and pale he wanders half a ghost.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wretched old man! (with tears the prince returns)<br/>
+Yet cease to go&mdash;what man so blest but mourns?<br/>
+Were every wish indulged by favouring skies,<br/>
+This hour should give Ulysses to my eyes.<br/>
+But to the queen with speed dispatchful bear,<br/>
+Our safe return, and back with speed repair;<br/>
+And let some handmaid of her train resort<br/>
+To good Laertes in his rural court.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While yet he spoke, impatient of delay,<br/>
+He braced his sandals on, and strode away:<br/>
+Then from the heavens the martial goddess flies<br/>
+Through the wild fields of air, and cleaves the skies:<br/>
+In form, a virgin in soft beauty&rsquo;s bloom,<br/>
+Skill&rsquo;d in the illustrious labours of the loom.<br/>
+Alone to Ithaca she stood display&rsquo;d,<br/>
+But unapparent as a viewless shade<br/>
+Escaped Telemachus (the powers above,<br/>
+Seen or unseen, o&rsquo;er earth at pleasure move):<br/>
+The dogs intelligent confess&rsquo;d the tread<br/>
+Of power divine, and howling, trembling, fled.<br/>
+The goddess, beckoning, waves her deathless hands:<br/>
+Dauntless the king before the goddess stands:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then why (she said), O favour&rsquo;d of the skies!<br/>
+Why to thy godlike son this long disguise?<br/>
+Stand forth reveal&rsquo;d; with him thy cares employ<br/>
+Against thy foes; be valiant and destroy!<br/>
+Lo! I descend in that avenging hour,<br/>
+To combat by thy side, thy guardian power.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She said, and o&rsquo;er him waves her wand of gold<br/>
+Imperial robes his manly limbs infold;<br/>
+At once with grace divine his frame improves;<br/>
+At once with majesty enlarged he moves:<br/>
+Youth flush&rsquo;d his reddening cheek, and from his brows<br/>
+A length of hair in sable ringlets flows;<br/>
+His blackening chin receives a deeper shade;<br/>
+Then from his eyes upsprung the warrior-maid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The hero reascends: the prince o&rsquo;erawed<br/>
+Scarce lifts his eyes, and bows as to a god,<br/>
+Then with surprise (surprise chastised by fears):<br/>
+&ldquo;How art thou changed! (he cried)&mdash;a god appears!<br/>
+Far other vests thy limbs majestic grace,<br/>
+Far other glories lighten from thy face!<br/>
+If heaven be thy abode, with pious care,<br/>
+Lo! I the ready sacrifice prepare:<br/>
+Lo! gifts of labour&rsquo;d gold adorn thy shrine,<br/>
+To win thy grace: O save us, power divine!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Few are my days (Ulysses made reply),<br/>
+Nor I, alas! descendant of the sky.<br/>
+I am thy father. O my son! my son!<br/>
+That father, for whose sake thy days have run<br/>
+One scene of woe! to endless cares consign&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And outraged by the wrongs of base mankind.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, rushing to his arms, he kiss&rsquo;d his boy<br/>
+With the strong raptures of a parent&rsquo;s joy.<br/>
+Tears bathe his cheek, and tears the ground bedew:<br/>
+He strain&rsquo;d him close, as to his breast he grew.<br/>
+&ldquo;Ah me! (exclaims the prince with fond desire)<br/>
+Thou art not&mdash;no, thou canst not be my sire.<br/>
+Heaven such illusion only can impose,<br/>
+By the false joy to aggravate my woes.<br/>
+Who but a god can change the general doom,<br/>
+And give to wither&rsquo;d age a youthful bloom!<br/>
+Late, worn with years, in weeds obscene you trod;<br/>
+Now, clothed in majesty, you move a god!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Forbear (he cried,) for Heaven reserve that name;<br/>
+Give to thy father but a father&rsquo;s claim;<br/>
+Other Ulysses shalt thou never see,<br/>
+I am Ulysses, I, my son, am he.<br/>
+Twice ten sad years o&rsquo;er earth and ocean toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis given at length to view my native coast.<br/>
+Pallas, unconquer&rsquo;d maid, my frame surrounds<br/>
+With grace divine: her power admits no bounds;<br/>
+She o&rsquo;er my limbs old age and wrinkles shed;<br/>
+Now strong as youth, magnificent I tread.<br/>
+The gods with ease frail man depress or raise,<br/>
+Exalt the lowly, or the proud debase.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke and sate. The prince with transport flew,<br/>
+Hung round his neck, while tears his cheek bedew;<br/>
+Nor less the father pour&rsquo;d a social flood;<br/>
+They wept abundant, and they wept aloud.<br/>
+As the bold eagle with fierce sorrow stung,<br/>
+Or parent vulture, mourns her ravish&rsquo;d young;<br/>
+They cry, they scream, their unfledged brood a prey<br/>
+To some rude churl, and borne by stealth away:<br/>
+So they aloud: and tears in tides had run,<br/>
+Their grief unfinish&rsquo;d with the setting sun;<br/>
+But checking the full torrent in its flow,<br/>
+The prince thus interrupts the solemn woe.<br/>
+&ldquo;What ship transported thee, O father, say;<br/>
+And what bless&rsquo;d hands have oar&rsquo;d thee on the way?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;All, all (Ulysses instant made reply),<br/>
+I tell thee all, my child, my only joy!<br/>
+Phæacians bore me to the port assign&rsquo;d,<br/>
+A nation ever to the stranger kind;<br/>
+Wrapp&rsquo;d in the embrace of sleep, the faithful train<br/>
+O&rsquo;er seas convey&rsquo;d me to my native reign:<br/>
+Embroider&rsquo;d vestures, gold, and brass, are laid<br/>
+Conceal&rsquo;d in caverns in the sylvan shade.<br/>
+Hither, intent the rival rout to slay,<br/>
+And plan the scene of death, I bend my way;<br/>
+So Pallas wills&mdash;but thou, my son, explain<br/>
+The names and numbers of the audacious train;<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis mine to judge if better to employ<br/>
+Assistant force, or singly to destroy.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O&rsquo;er earth (returns the prince) resounds thy name,<br/>
+Thy well-tried wisdom, and thy martial fame,<br/>
+Yet at thy words I start, in wonder lost;<br/>
+Can we engage, not decades but an host?<br/>
+Can we alone in furious battle stand,<br/>
+Against that numerous and determined band?<br/>
+Hear then their numbers; from Dulichium came<br/>
+Twice twenty-six, all peers of mighty name.<br/>
+Six are their menial train: twice twelve the boast<br/>
+Of Samos; twenty from Zacynthus&rsquo; coast:<br/>
+And twelve our country&rsquo;s pride; to these belong<br/>
+Medon and Phemius, skill&rsquo;d in heavenly song.<br/>
+Two sewers from day to day the revels wait,<br/>
+Exact of taste, and serve the feast in state.<br/>
+With such a foe the unequal fight to try,<br/>
+Were by false courage unrevenged to die.<br/>
+Then what assistant powers you boast relate,<br/>
+Ere yet we mingle in the stern debate.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mark well my voice, (Ulysses straight replies:)<br/>
+What need of aids, if favour&rsquo;d by the skies?<br/>
+If shielded to the dreadful fight we move,<br/>
+By mighty Pallas, and by thundering Jove?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Sufficient they (Telemachus rejoin&rsquo;d)<br/>
+Against the banded powers of all mankind:<br/>
+They, high enthroned above the rolling clouds,<br/>
+Wither the strength of man, and awe the gods.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Such aids expect (he cries,) when strong in might<br/>
+We rise terrific to the task of fight.<br/>
+But thou, when morn salutes the aërial plain,<br/>
+The court revisit and the lawless train:<br/>
+Me thither in disguise Eumaeus leads,<br/>
+An aged mendicant in tatter&rsquo;d weeds.<br/>
+There, if base scorn insult my reverend age,<br/>
+Bear it, my son! repress thy rising rage.<br/>
+If outraged, cease that outrage to repel;<br/>
+Bear it, my son! howe&rsquo;er thy heart rebel.<br/>
+Yet strive by prayer and counsel to restrain<br/>
+Their lawless insults, though thou strive in vain:<br/>
+For wicked ears are deaf to wisdom&rsquo;s call,<br/>
+And vengeance strikes whom Heaven has doom&rsquo;d to fall.<br/>
+Once more attend: when she whose power inspires<br/>
+The thinking mind, my soul to vengeance fires,<br/>
+I give the sign: that instant, from beneath,<br/>
+Aloft convey the instruments of death,<br/>
+Armour and arms; and, if mistrust arise,<br/>
+Thus veil the truth in plausible disguise:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;These glittering weapons, ere he sail&rsquo;d to Troy,<br/>
+Ulysses view&rsquo;d with stern heroic joy:<br/>
+Then, beaming o&rsquo;er the illumined wall they shone;<br/>
+Now dust dishonours, all their lustre gone.<br/>
+I bear them hence (so Jove my soul inspires),<br/>
+From the pollution of the fuming fires;<br/>
+Lest when the bowl inflames, in vengeful mood<br/>
+Ye rush to arms, and stain the feast with blood:<br/>
+Oft ready swords in luckless hour incite<br/>
+The hand of wrath, and arm it for the fight.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Such be the plea, and by the plea deceive:<br/>
+For Jove infatuates all, and all believe.<br/>
+Yet leave for each of us a sword to wield,<br/>
+A pointed javelin, and a fenceful shield.<br/>
+But by my blood that in thy bosom glows,<br/>
+By that regard a son his father owes;<br/>
+The secret, that thy father lives, retain<br/>
+Lock&rsquo;d in thy bosom from the household train;<br/>
+Hide it from all; e&rsquo;en from Eumaeus hide,<br/>
+From my dear father, and my dearer bride.<br/>
+One care remains, to note the loyal few<br/>
+Whose faith yet lasts among the menial crew;<br/>
+And noting, ere we rise in vengeance, prove<br/>
+Who love his prince; for sure you merit love.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the youth: &ldquo;To emulate, I aim,<br/>
+The brave and wise, and my great father&rsquo;s fame.<br/>
+But reconsider, since the wisest err,<br/>
+Vengeance resolved, &rsquo;tis dangerous to defer.<br/>
+What length of time must we consume in vain,<br/>
+Too curious to explore the menial train!<br/>
+While the proud foes, industrious to destroy<br/>
+Thy wealth, in riot the delay enjoy.<br/>
+Suffice it in this exigence alone<br/>
+To mark the damsels that attend the throne:<br/>
+Dispersed the youth reside; their faith to prove<br/>
+Jove grants henceforth, if thou hast spoke from Jove.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While in debate they waste the hours away,<br/>
+The associates of the prince repass&rsquo;d the bay:<br/>
+With speed they guide the vessel to the shores;<br/>
+With speed debarking land the naval stores:<br/>
+Then, faithful to their charge, to Clytius bear,<br/>
+And trust the presents to his friendly care.<br/>
+Swift to the queen a herald flies to impart<br/>
+Her son&rsquo;s return, and ease a parent&rsquo;s heart:<br/>
+Lest a sad prey to ever-musing cares,<br/>
+Pale grief destroy what time awhile forbears.<br/>
+The incautious herald with impatience burns,<br/>
+And cries aloud, &ldquo;Thy son, O queen, returns;&rdquo;<br/>
+Eumaeus sage approach&rsquo;d the imperial throne,<br/>
+And breathed his mandate to her ear alone,<br/>
+Then measured back the way. The suitor band,<br/>
+Stung to the soul, abash&rsquo;d, confounded, stand;<br/>
+And issuing from the dome, before the gate,<br/>
+With clouded looks, a pale assembly sate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length Eurymachus: &ldquo;Our hopes are vain;<br/>
+Telemachus in triumph sails the main.<br/>
+Haste, rear the mast, the swelling shroud display;<br/>
+Haste, to our ambush&rsquo;d friends the news convey!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Scarce had he spake, when, turning to the strand,<br/>
+Amphinomus survey&rsquo;d the associate band;<br/>
+Full to the bay within the winding shores<br/>
+With gather&rsquo;d sails they stood, and lifted oars.<br/>
+&ldquo;O friends!&rdquo; he cried, elate with rising joy,<br/>
+&ldquo;See to the port secure the vessel fly!<br/>
+Some god has told them, or themselves survey<br/>
+The bark escaped; and measure back their way.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Swift at the word descending to the shores,<br/>
+They moor the vessel and unlade the stores:<br/>
+Then, moving from the strand, apart they sate,<br/>
+And full and frequent form&rsquo;d a dire debate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lives then the boy? he lives (Antinous cries),<br/>
+The care of gods and favourite of the skies.<br/>
+All night we watch&rsquo;d, till with her orient wheels<br/>
+Aurora flamed above the eastern hills,<br/>
+And from the lofty brow of rocks by day<br/>
+Took in the ocean with a broad survey<br/>
+Yet safe he sails; the powers celestial give<br/>
+To shun the hidden snares of death, and live.<br/>
+But die he shall, and thus condemn&rsquo;d to bleed,<br/>
+Be now the scene of instant death decreed.<br/>
+Hope ye success? undaunted crush the foe.<br/>
+Is he not wise? know this, and strike the blow.<br/>
+Wait ye, till he to arms in council draws<br/>
+The Greeks, averse too justly to our cause?<br/>
+Strike, ere, the states convened, the foe betray<br/>
+Our murderous ambush on the watery way.<br/>
+Or choose ye vagrant from their rage to fly,<br/>
+Outcasts of earth, to breathe an unknown sky?<br/>
+The brave prevent misfortune; then be brave,<br/>
+And bury future danger in his grave.<br/>
+Returns he? ambush&rsquo;d we&rsquo;ll his walk invade,<br/>
+Or where he hides in solitude and shade;<br/>
+And give the palace to the queen a dower,<br/>
+Or him she blesses in the bridal hour.<br/>
+But if submissive you resign the sway,<br/>
+Slaves to a boy, go, flatter and obey.<br/>
+Retire we instant to our native reign,<br/>
+Nor be the wealth of kings consumed in vain;<br/>
+Then wed whom choice approves: the queen be given<br/>
+To some blest prince, the prince decreed by Heaven.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Abash&rsquo;d, the suitor train his voice attends;<br/>
+Till from his throne Amphinomus ascends,<br/>
+Who o&rsquo;er Dulichium stretch&rsquo;d his spacious reign,<br/>
+A land of plenty, bless&rsquo;d with every grain:<br/>
+Chief of the numbers who the queen address&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And though displeasing, yet displeasing least.<br/>
+Soft were his words; his actions wisdom sway&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Graceful awhile he paused, then mildly said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O friends, forbear! and be the thought withstood:<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis horrible to shed imperial blood!<br/>
+Consult we first the all-seeing powers above,<br/>
+And the sure oracles of righteous Jove.<br/>
+If they assent, e&rsquo;en by this hand he dies;<br/>
+If they forbid, I war not with the skies.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said: the rival train his voice approved,<br/>
+And rising instant to the palace moved.<br/>
+Arrived, with wild tumultuous noise they sate,<br/>
+Recumbent on the shining thrones of state.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Medon, conscious of their dire debates,<br/>
+The murderous counsel to the queen relates.<br/>
+Touch&rsquo;d at the dreadful story, she descends:<br/>
+Her hasty steps a damsel train attends.<br/>
+Full where the dome its shining valves expands,<br/>
+Sudden before the rival powers she stands;<br/>
+And, veiling, decent, with a modest shade<br/>
+Her cheek, indignant to Antinous said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O void of faith! of all bad men the worst!<br/>
+Renown&rsquo;d for wisdom, by the abuse accursed!<br/>
+Mistaking fame proclaims thy generous mind:<br/>
+Thy deeds denote thee of the basest kind.<br/>
+Wretch! to destroy a prince that friendship gives,<br/>
+While in his guest his murderer he receives;<br/>
+Nor dread superior Jove, to whom belong<br/>
+The cause of suppliants, and revenge of wrong.<br/>
+Hast thou forgot, ungrateful as thou art,<br/>
+Who saved thy father with a friendly part?<br/>
+Lawless he ravaged with his martial powers<br/>
+The Taphian pirates on Thesprotia&rsquo;s shores;<br/>
+Enraged, his life, his treasures they demand;<br/>
+Ulysses saved him from the avenger&rsquo;s hand.<br/>
+And would&rsquo;st thou evil for his good repay?<br/>
+His bed dishonour, and his house betray?<br/>
+Afflict his queen, and with a murderous hand<br/>
+Destroy his heir!&mdash;but cease, &rsquo;tis I command.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Far hence those fears (Eurymachus replied,)<br/>
+O prudent princess! bid thy soul confide.<br/>
+Breathes there a man who dares that hero slay,<br/>
+While I behold the golden light of day?<br/>
+No: by the righteous powers of heaven I swear,<br/>
+His blood in vengeance smokes upon my spear.<br/>
+Ulysses, when my infant days I led,<br/>
+With wine sufficed me, and with dainties fed:<br/>
+My generous soul abhors the ungrateful part,<br/>
+And my friend&rsquo;s son lives nearest to my heart.<br/>
+Then fear no mortal arm; if Heaven destroy,<br/>
+We must resign: for man is born to die.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus smooth he ended, yet his death conspired:<br/>
+Then sorrowing, with sad step the queen retired,<br/>
+With streaming eyes, all comfortless deplored,<br/>
+Touch&rsquo;d with the dear remembrance of her lord:<br/>
+Nor ceased till Pallas bids her sorrows fly,<br/>
+And in soft slumber seal&rsquo;d her flowing eye.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now Eumaeus, at the evening hour,<br/>
+Came late, returning to his sylvan bower.<br/>
+Ulysses and his son had dress&rsquo;d with art<br/>
+A yearling boar, and gave the gods their part.<br/>
+Holy repast! That instant from the skies<br/>
+The martial goddess to Ulysses flies:<br/>
+She waves her golden wand, and reassumes<br/>
+From every feature every grace that blooms;<br/>
+At once his vestures change; at once she sheds<br/>
+Age o&rsquo;er his limbs, that tremble as he treads:<br/>
+Lest to the queen the swain with transport fly,<br/>
+Unable to contain the unruly joy;<br/>
+When near he drew, the prince breaks forth: &ldquo;Proclaim<br/>
+What tidings, friend? what speaks the voice of fame?<br/>
+Say, if the suitors measure back the main,<br/>
+Or still in ambush thirst for blood in vain?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whether (he cries) they measure back the flood,<br/>
+Or still in ambush thirst in vain for blood,<br/>
+Escaped my care: where lawless suitors sway,<br/>
+Thy mandate borne my soul disdain&rsquo;d to stay.<br/>
+But from the Hermaean height I cast a view,<br/>
+Where to the port a bark high-bounding flew;<br/>
+Her freight a shining band: with martial air<br/>
+Each poised his shield, and each advanced his spear;<br/>
+And, if aright these searching eyes survey,<br/>
+The eluded suitors stem the watery way.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The prince, well pleased to disappoint their wiles,<br/>
+Steals on his sire a glance, and secret smiles.<br/>
+And now, a short repast prepared, they fed<br/>
+Till the keen rage of craving hunger fled:<br/>
+Then to repose withdrawn, apart they lay,<br/>
+And in soft sleep forgot the cares of day.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap17"></a>BOOK XVII.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Telemachus returning to the city, relates to Penelope the sum of his travels.
+Ulysses is conducted by Eumaeus to the palace, where his old dog Argus
+acknowledges his master, after an absence of twenty years, and dies with joy.
+Eumaeus returns into the country, and Ulysses remains among the suitors, whose
+behaviour is described.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Soon as Aurora, daughter of the dawn,<br/>
+Sprinkled with roseate light the dewy lawn,<br/>
+In haste the prince arose, prepared to part;<br/>
+His hand impatient grasps the pointed dart;<br/>
+Fair on his feet the polish&rsquo;d sandals shine,<br/>
+And thus he greets the master of the swine:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My friend, adieu! let this short stay suffice;<br/>
+I haste to meet my mother&rsquo;s longing eyes,<br/>
+And end her tears, her sorrows and her sighs.<br/>
+But thou, attentive, what we order heed:<br/>
+This hapless stranger to the city lead:<br/>
+By public bounty let him there be fed,<br/>
+And bless the hand that stretches forth the bread.<br/>
+To wipe the tears from all afflicted eyes,<br/>
+My will may covet, but my power denies.<br/>
+If this raise anger in the stranger&rsquo;s thought,<br/>
+The pain of anger punishes the fault:<br/>
+The very truth I undisguised declare;<br/>
+For what so easy as to be sincere?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To this Ulysses: &ldquo;What the prince requires<br/>
+Of swift removal, seconds my desires.<br/>
+To want like mine the peopled town can yield<br/>
+More hopes of comfort than the lonely field:<br/>
+Nor fits my age to till the labour&rsquo;d lands,<br/>
+Or stoop to tasks a rural lord demands.<br/>
+Adieu! but since this ragged garb can bear<br/>
+So ill the inclemencies of morning air,<br/>
+A few hours&rsquo; space permit me here to stay:<br/>
+My steps Eumaeus shall to town convey,<br/>
+With riper beams when Phœbus warms the day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus he: nor aught Telemachus replied,<br/>
+But left the mansion with a lofty stride:<br/>
+Schemes of revenge his pondering breast elate,<br/>
+Revolving deep the suitors&rsquo; sudden fate,<br/>
+Arriving now before the imperial hall,<br/>
+He props his spear against the pillar&rsquo;d wall;<br/>
+Then like a lion o&rsquo;er the threshold bounds;<br/>
+The marble pavement with his steps resounds:<br/>
+His eye first glanced where Euryclea spreads<br/>
+With furry spoils of beasts the splendid beds:<br/>
+She saw, she wept, she ran with eager pace,<br/>
+And reach&rsquo;d her master with a long embrace.<br/>
+All crowded round, the family appears<br/>
+With wild entrancement, and ecstatic tears.<br/>
+Swift from above descends the royal fair<br/>
+(Her beauteous cheeks the blush of Venus wear,<br/>
+Chasten&rsquo;d with coy Diana&rsquo;s pensive air);<br/>
+Hangs o&rsquo;er her son, in his embraces dies;<br/>
+Rains kisses on his neck, his face, his eyes:<br/>
+Few words she spoke, though much she had to say;<br/>
+And scarce those few, for tears, could force their way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Light of my eyes: he comes! unhoped-for joy!<br/>
+Has Heaven from Pylos brought my lovely boy?<br/>
+So snatch&rsquo;d from all our cares!&mdash;Tell, hast thou known<br/>
+Thy father&rsquo;s fate, and tell me all thy own.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh dearest! most revered of womankind!<br/>
+Cease with those tears to melt a manly mind<br/>
+(Replied the prince); nor be our fates deplored,<br/>
+From death and treason to thy arms restored.<br/>
+Go bathe, and robed in white ascend the towers;<br/>
+With all thy handmaids thank the immortal powers;<br/>
+To every god vow hecatombs to bleed.<br/>
+And call Jove&rsquo;s vengeance on their guilty deed.<br/>
+While to the assembled council I repair:<br/>
+A stranger sent by Heaven attends me there;<br/>
+My new accepted guest I haste to find,<br/>
+Now to Peiraeus&rsquo; honour&rsquo;d charge consign&rsquo;d.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The matron heard, nor was his word in vain.<br/>
+She bathed; and, robed in white, with all her train,<br/>
+To every god vow&rsquo;d hecatombs to bleed,<br/>
+And call&rsquo;d Jove&rsquo;s vengeance on the guilty deed,<br/>
+Arm&rsquo;d with his lance, the prince then pass&rsquo;d the gate,<br/>
+Two dogs behind, a faithful guard, await;<br/>
+Pallas his form with grace divine improves:<br/>
+The gazing crowd admires him as he moves.<br/>
+Him, gathering round, the haughty suitors greet<br/>
+With semblance fair, but inward deep deceit,<br/>
+Their false addresses, generous, he denied.<br/>
+Pass&rsquo;d on, and sate by faithful Mentor&rsquo;s side;<br/>
+With Antiphus, and Halitherses sage<br/>
+(His father&rsquo;s counsellors, revered for age).<br/>
+Of his own fortunes, and Ulysses&rsquo; fame,<br/>
+Much ask&rsquo;d the seniors; till Peiraeus came.<br/>
+The stranger-guest pursued him close behind;<br/>
+Whom when Telemachus beheld, he join&rsquo;d.<br/>
+He (when Peiraeus ask&rsquo;d for slaves to bring<br/>
+The gifts and treasures of the Spartan king)<br/>
+Thus thoughtful answer&rsquo;d: &ldquo;Those we shall not move,<br/>
+Dark and unconscious of the will of Jove;<br/>
+We know not yet the full event of all:<br/>
+Stabb&rsquo;d in his palace if your prince must fall,<br/>
+Us, and our house, if treason must o&rsquo;erthrow,<br/>
+Better a friend possess them than a foe;<br/>
+If death to these, and vengeance Heaven decree,<br/>
+Riches are welcome then, not else, to me.<br/>
+Till then retain the gifts.&rdquo;&mdash;The hero said,<br/>
+And in his hand the willing stranger led.<br/>
+Then disarray&rsquo;d, the shining bath they sought<br/>
+(With unguents smooth) of polish&rsquo;d marble wrought:<br/>
+Obedient handmaids with assistant toil<br/>
+Supply the limpid wave, and fragrant oil:<br/>
+Then o&rsquo;er their limbs refulgent robes they threw,<br/>
+And fresh from bathing to their seats withdrew.<br/>
+The golden ewer a nymph attendant brings,<br/>
+Replenish&rsquo;d from the pure translucent springs;<br/>
+With copious streams that golden ewer supplies<br/>
+A silver layer of capacious size.<br/>
+They wash: the table, in fair order spread,<br/>
+Is piled with viands and the strength of bread.<br/>
+Full opposite, before the folding gate,<br/>
+The pensive mother sits in humble state;<br/>
+Lowly she sate, and with dejected view<br/>
+The fleecy threads her ivory fingers drew.<br/>
+The prince and stranger shared the genial feast,<br/>
+Till now the rage of thirst and hunger ceased.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When thus the queen: &ldquo;My son! my only friend!<br/>
+Say, to my mournful couch shall I ascend?<br/>
+(The couch deserted now a length of years;<br/>
+The couch for ever water&rsquo;d with my tears;)<br/>
+Say, wilt thou not (ere yet the suitor crew<br/>
+Return, and riot shakes our walls anew),<br/>
+Say, wilt thou not the least account afford?<br/>
+The least glad tidings of my absent lord?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To her the youth. &ldquo;We reach&rsquo;d the Pylian plains,<br/>
+Where Nestor, shepherd of his people, reigns.<br/>
+All arts of tenderness to him are known,<br/>
+Kind to Ulysses&rsquo; race as to his own;<br/>
+No father with a fonder grasp of joy<br/>
+Strains to his bosom his long-absent boy.<br/>
+But all unknown, if yet Ulysses breathe,<br/>
+Or glide a spectre in the realms beneath;<br/>
+For farther search, his rapid steeds transport<br/>
+My lengthen&rsquo;d journey to the Spartan court.<br/>
+There Argive Helen I beheld, whose charms<br/>
+(So Heaven decreed) engaged the great in arms.<br/>
+My cause of coming told, he thus rejoin&rsquo;d;<br/>
+And still his words live perfect in my mind:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Heavens! would a soft, inglorious, dastard train<br/>
+An absent hero&rsquo;s nuptial joys profane<br/>
+So with her young, amid the woodland shades,<br/>
+A timorous hind the lion&rsquo;s court invades,<br/>
+Leaves in that fatal lair her tender fawns,<br/>
+And climbs the cliffs, or feeds along the lawns;<br/>
+Meantime returning, with remorseless sway<br/>
+The monarch savage rends the panting prey:<br/>
+With equal fury, and with equal fame,<br/>
+Shall great Ulysses reassert his claim.<br/>
+O Jove! supreme! whom men and gods revere;<br/>
+And thou whose lustre gilds the rolling sphere!<br/>
+With power congenial join&rsquo;d, propitious aid<br/>
+The chief adopted by the martial maid!<br/>
+Such to our wish the warrior soon restore,<br/>
+As when, contending on the Lesbian shore,<br/>
+His prowess Philomelides confess&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And loud acclaiming Greeks the victor bless&rsquo;d:<br/>
+Then soon the invaders of his bed, and throne,<br/>
+Their love presumptuous shall by death atone.<br/>
+Now what you question of my ancient friend,<br/>
+With truth I answer; thou the truth attend.<br/>
+Learn what I heard the sea-born seer relate,<br/>
+Whose eye can pierce the dark recess of fate<br/>
+Sole in an isle, imprison&rsquo;d by the main,<br/>
+The sad survivor of his numerous train,<br/>
+Ulysses lies; detain&rsquo;d by magic charms,<br/>
+And press&rsquo;d unwilling in Calypso&rsquo;s arms.<br/>
+No sailors there, no vessels to convey,<br/>
+No oars to cut the immeasurable way.&rsquo;<br/>
+This told Atrides, and he told no more.<br/>
+Then safe I voyaged to my native shore.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He ceased; nor made the pensive queen reply,<br/>
+But droop&rsquo;d her head, and drew a secret sigh.<br/>
+When Theoclymenus the seer began:<br/>
+&ldquo;O suffering consort of the suffering man!<br/>
+What human knowledge could, those kings might tell,<br/>
+But I the secrets of high heaven reveal.<br/>
+Before the first of gods be this declared,<br/>
+Before the board whose blessings we have shared;<br/>
+Witness the genial rites, and witness all<br/>
+This house holds sacred in her ample wall!<br/>
+E&rsquo;en now, this instant, great Ulysses, laid<br/>
+At rest, or wandering in his country&rsquo;s shade,<br/>
+Their guilty deeds, in hearing, and in view,<br/>
+Secret revolves; and plans the vengeance due.<br/>
+Of this sure auguries the gods bestow&rsquo;d,<br/>
+When first our vessel anchor&rsquo;d in your road.&rdquo;<br/>
+&ldquo;Succeed those omens, Heaven! (the queen rejoin&rsquo;d)<br/>
+So shall our bounties speak a grateful mind;<br/>
+And every envied happiness attend<br/>
+The man who calls Penelope his friend.&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus communed they: while in the marble court<br/>
+(Scene of their insolence) the lords resort:<br/>
+Athwart the spacious square each tries his art,<br/>
+To whirl the disk, or aim the missile dart.<br/>
+Now did the hour of sweet repast arrive,<br/>
+And from the field the victim flocks they drive:<br/>
+Medon the herald (one who pleased them best,<br/>
+And honour&rsquo;d with a portion of their feast),<br/>
+To bid the banquet, interrupts their play:<br/>
+Swift to the hall they haste; aside they lay<br/>
+Their garments, and succinct the victims slay.<br/>
+Then sheep, and goats, and bristly porkers bled,<br/>
+And the proud steer was o&rsquo;er the marble spread.<br/>
+While thus the copious banquet they provide,<br/>
+Along the road, conversing side by side,<br/>
+Proceed Ulysses and the faithful swain;<br/>
+When thus Eumaeus, generous and humane:<br/>
+&ldquo;To town, observant of our lord&rsquo;s behest,<br/>
+Now let us speed; my friend no more my guest!<br/>
+Yet like myself I wish thee here preferr&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Guard of the flock, or keeper of the herd,<br/>
+But much to raise my master&rsquo;s wrath I fear;<br/>
+The wrath of princes ever is severe.<br/>
+Then heed his will, and be our journey made<br/>
+While the broad beams of Phœbus are display&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Or ere brown evening spreads her chilly shade.&rdquo;<br/>
+&ldquo;Just thy advice (the prudent chief rejoin&rsquo;d),<br/>
+And such as suits the dictate of my mind.<br/>
+Lead on: but help me to some staff to stay<br/>
+My feeble step, since rugged is the way.&rdquo;<br/>
+Across his shoulders then the scrip he flung,<br/>
+Wide-patch&rsquo;d, and fasten&rsquo;d by a twisted thong.<br/>
+A staff Eumaeus gave. Along the way<br/>
+Cheerly they fare: behind, the keepers stay:<br/>
+These with their watchful dogs (a constant guard)<br/>
+Supply his absence, and attend the herd.<br/>
+And now his city strikes the monarch&rsquo;s eyes,<br/>
+Alas! how changed! a man of miseries;<br/>
+Propp&rsquo;d on a staff, a beggar old and bare<br/>
+In rags dishonest fluttering with the air!<br/>
+Now pass&rsquo;d the rugged road, they journey down<br/>
+The cavern&rsquo;d way descending to the town,<br/>
+Where, from the rock, with liquid drops distils<br/>
+A limpid fount; that spread in parting rills<br/>
+Its current thence to serve the city brings;<br/>
+An useful work, adorn&rsquo;d by ancient kings.<br/>
+Neritus, Ithacus, Polyctor, there,<br/>
+In sculptured stone immortalized their care,<br/>
+In marble urns received it from above,<br/>
+And shaded with a green surrounding grove;<br/>
+Where silver alders, in high arches twined,<br/>
+Drink the cool stream, and tremble to the wind.<br/>
+Beneath, sequester&rsquo;d to the nymphs, is seen<br/>
+A mossy altar, deep embower&rsquo;d in green;<br/>
+Where constant vows by travellers are paid,<br/>
+And holy horrors solemnize the shade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here with his goats (not vow&rsquo;d to sacred fame,<br/>
+But pamper&rsquo;d luxury) Melanthius came:<br/>
+Two grooms attend him. With an envious look<br/>
+He eyed the stranger, and imperious spoke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The good old proverb how this pair fulfil!<br/>
+One rogue is usher to another still.<br/>
+Heaven with a secret principle endued<br/>
+Mankind, to seek their own similitude.<br/>
+Where goes the swineherd with that ill-look&rsquo;d guest?<br/>
+That giant-glutton, dreadful at a feast!<br/>
+Full many a post have those broad shoulders worn,<br/>
+From every great man&rsquo;s gate repulsed with scorn:<br/>
+To no brave prize aspired the worthless swain,<br/>
+&rsquo;Twas but for scraps he ask&rsquo;d, and ask&rsquo;d in vain.<br/>
+To beg, than work, he better understands,<br/>
+Or we perhaps might take him off thy hands.<br/>
+For any office could the slave be good,<br/>
+To cleanse the fold, or help the kids to food.<br/>
+If any labour those big joints could learn,<br/>
+Some whey, to wash his bowels, he might earn.<br/>
+To cringe, to whine, his idle hands to spread,<br/>
+Is all, by which that graceless maw is fed.<br/>
+Yet hear me! if thy impudence but dare<br/>
+Approach yon wall, I prophesy thy fare:<br/>
+Dearly, full dearly, shalt thou buy thy bread<br/>
+With many a footstool thundering at thy head.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He thus: nor insolent of word alone,<br/>
+Spurn&rsquo;d with his rustic heel his king unknown;<br/>
+Spurn&rsquo;d, but not moved: he like a pillar stood,<br/>
+Nor stirr&rsquo;d an inch, contemptuous, from the road:<br/>
+Doubtful, or with his staff to strike him dead,<br/>
+Or greet the pavement with his worthless head.<br/>
+Short was that doubt; to quell his rage inured,<br/>
+The hero stood self-conquer&rsquo;d, and endured.<br/>
+But hateful of the wretch, Eumaeus heaved<br/>
+His hands obtesting, and this prayer conceived:<br/>
+&ldquo;Daughters of Jove! who from the ethereal bowers<br/>
+Descend to swell the springs, and feed the flowers!<br/>
+Nymphs of this fountain! to whose sacred names<br/>
+Our rural victims mount in blazing flames!<br/>
+To whom Ulysses&rsquo; piety preferr&rsquo;d<br/>
+The yearly firstlings of his flock and herd;<br/>
+Succeed my wish, your votary restore:<br/>
+Oh, be some god his convoy to our shore!<br/>
+Due pains shall punish then this slave&rsquo;s offence,<br/>
+And humble all his airs of insolence,<br/>
+Who, proudly stalking, leaves the herds at large,<br/>
+Commences courtier, and neglects his charge.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What mutters he? (Melanthius sharp rejoins;)<br/>
+This crafty miscreant, big with dark designs?<br/>
+The day shall come&mdash;nay, &rsquo;tis already near&mdash;<br/>
+When, slave! to sell thee at a price too dear<br/>
+Must be my care; and hence transport thee o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+A load and scandal to this happy shore.<br/>
+Oh! that as surely great Apollo&rsquo;s dart,<br/>
+Or some brave suitor&rsquo;s sword, might pierce the heart<br/>
+Of the proud son; as that we stand this hour<br/>
+In lasting safety from the father&rsquo;s power!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So spoke the wretch, but, shunning farther fray,<br/>
+Turn&rsquo;d his proud step, and left them on their way.<br/>
+Straight to the feastful palace he repair&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Familiar enter&rsquo;d, and the banquet shared;<br/>
+Beneath Eurymachus, his patron lord,<br/>
+He took his place, and plenty heap&rsquo;d the board.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meantime they heard, soft circling in the sky<br/>
+Sweet airs ascend, and heavenly minstrelsy<br/>
+(For Phemius to the lyre attuned the strain):<br/>
+Ulysses hearken&rsquo;d, then address&rsquo;d the swain:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well may this palace admiration claim,<br/>
+Great and respondent to the master&rsquo;s fame!<br/>
+Stage above stage the imperial structure stands,<br/>
+Holds the chief honours, and the town commands:<br/>
+High walls and battlements the courts inclose,<br/>
+And the strong gates defy a host of foes.<br/>
+Far other cares its dwellers now employ;<br/>
+The throng&rsquo;d assembly and the feast of joy:<br/>
+I see the smokes of sacrifice aspire,<br/>
+And hear (what graces every feast) the lyre.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then thus Eumaeus: &ldquo;Judge we which were best;<br/>
+Amidst yon revellers a sudden guest<br/>
+Choose you to mingle, while behind I stay?<br/>
+Or I first entering introduce the way?<br/>
+Wait for a space without, but wait not long;<br/>
+This is the house of violence and wrong:<br/>
+Some rude insult thy reverend age may bear;<br/>
+For like their lawless lords the servants are.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just is, O friend! thy caution, and address&rsquo;d<br/>
+(Replied the chief, to no unheedful breast:)<br/>
+The wrongs and injuries of base mankind<br/>
+Fresh to my sense, and always in my mind.<br/>
+The bravely-patient to no fortune yields:<br/>
+On rolling oceans, and in fighting fields,<br/>
+Storms have I pass&rsquo;d, and many a stern debate;<br/>
+And now in humbler scene submit to fate.<br/>
+What cannot want? The best she will expose,<br/>
+And I am learn&rsquo;d in all her train of woes;<br/>
+She fills with navies, hosts, and loud alarms,<br/>
+The sea, the land, and shakes the world with arms!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus, near the gates conferring as they drew,<br/>
+Argus, the dog, his ancient master knew:<br/>
+He not unconscious of the voice and tread,<br/>
+Lifts to the sound his ear, and rears his head;<br/>
+Bred by Ulysses, nourish&rsquo;d at his board,<br/>
+But, ah! not fated long to please his lord;<br/>
+To him, his swiftness and his strength were vain;<br/>
+The voice of glory call&rsquo;d him o&rsquo;er the main.<br/>
+Till then in every sylvan chase renown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+With Argus, Argus, rung the woods around;<br/>
+With him the youth pursued the goat or fawn,<br/>
+Or traced the mazy leveret o&rsquo;er the lawn.<br/>
+Now left to man&rsquo;s ingratitude he lay,<br/>
+Unhoused, neglected in the public way;<br/>
+And where on heaps the rich manure was spread,<br/>
+Obscene with reptiles, took his sordid bed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He knew his lord; he knew, and strove to meet;<br/>
+In vain he strove to crawl and kiss his feet;<br/>
+Yet (all he could) his tail, his tears, his eyes,<br/>
+Salute his master, and confess his joys.<br/>
+Soft pity touch&rsquo;d the mighty master&rsquo;s soul;<br/>
+Adown his cheek a tear unbidden stole,<br/>
+Stole unperceived: he turn&rsquo;d his head and dried<br/>
+The drop humane: then thus impassion&rsquo;d cried:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What noble beast in this abandon&rsquo;d state<br/>
+Lies here all helpless at Ulysses&rsquo; gate?<br/>
+His bulk and beauty speak no vulgar praise:<br/>
+If, as he seems, he was in better days,<br/>
+Some care his age deserves; or was he prized<br/>
+For worthless beauty? therefore now despised;<br/>
+Such dogs and men there are, mere things of state;<br/>
+And always cherish&rsquo;d by their friends, the great.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not Argus so, (Eumaeus thus rejoin&rsquo;d,)<br/>
+But served a master of a nobler kind,<br/>
+Who, never, never shall behold him more!<br/>
+Long, long since perish&rsquo;d on a distant shore!<br/>
+Oh had you seen him, vigorous, bold, and young,<br/>
+Swift as a stag, and as a lion strong:<br/>
+Him no fell savage on the plain withstood,<br/>
+None &rsquo;scaped him bosom&rsquo;d in the gloomy wood;<br/>
+His eye how piercing, and his scent how true,<br/>
+To wind the vapour on the tainted dew!<br/>
+Such, when Ulysses left his natal coast:<br/>
+Now years unnerve him, and his lord is lost!<br/>
+The women keep the generous creature bare,<br/>
+A sleek and idle race is all their care:<br/>
+The master gone, the servants what restrains?<br/>
+Or dwells humanity where riot reigns?<br/>
+Jove fix&rsquo;d it certain, that whatever day<br/>
+Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This said, the honest herdsman strode before;<br/>
+The musing monarch pauses at the door:<br/>
+The dog, whom Fate had granted to behold<br/>
+His lord, when twenty tedious years had roll&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Takes a last look, and having seen him, dies;<br/>
+So closed for ever faithful Argus&rsquo; eyes!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now Telemachus, the first of all,<br/>
+Observed Eumaeus entering in the hall;<br/>
+Distant he saw, across the shady dome;<br/>
+Then gave a sign, and beckon&rsquo;d him to come:<br/>
+There stood an empty seat, where late was placed,<br/>
+In order due, the steward of the feast,<br/>
+(Who now was busied carving round the board,)<br/>
+Eumaeus took, and placed it near his lord.<br/>
+Before him instant was the banquet spread,<br/>
+And the bright basket piled with loaves of bread.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next came Ulysses lowly at the door,<br/>
+A figure despicable, old, and poor.<br/>
+In squalid vests, with many a gaping rent,<br/>
+Propp&rsquo;d on a staff, and trembling as he went.<br/>
+Then, resting on the threshold of the gate,<br/>
+Against a cypress pillar lean&rsquo;d his weight<br/>
+Smooth&rsquo;d by the workman to a polish&rsquo;d plane);<br/>
+The thoughtful son beheld, and call&rsquo;d his swain
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;These viands, and this bread, Eumaeus! bear,<br/>
+And let yon mendicant our plenty share:<br/>
+And let him circle round the suitors&rsquo; board,<br/>
+And try the bounty of each gracious lord.<br/>
+Bold let him ask, encouraged thus by me:<br/>
+How ill, alas! do want and shame agree!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His lord&rsquo;s command the faithful servant bears:<br/>
+The seeming beggar answers with his prayers:<br/>
+&ldquo;Bless&rsquo;d be Telemachus! in every deed<br/>
+Inspire him. Jove! in every wish succeed!&rdquo;<br/>
+This said, the portion from his son convey&rsquo;d<br/>
+With smiles receiving on his scrip he laid.<br/>
+Long has the minstrel swept the sounding wire,<br/>
+He fed, and ceased when silence held the lyre.<br/>
+Soon as the suitors from the banquet rose,<br/>
+Minerva prompts the man of mighty woes<br/>
+To tempt their bounties with a suppliant&rsquo;s art,<br/>
+And learn the generous from the ignoble heart<br/>
+(Not but his soul, resentful as humane,<br/>
+Dooms to full vengeance all the offending train);<br/>
+With speaking eyes, and voice of plaintive sound,<br/>
+Humble he moves, imploring all around.<br/>
+The proud feel pity, and relief bestow,<br/>
+With such an image touch&rsquo;d of human woe;<br/>
+Inquiring all, their wonder they confess,<br/>
+And eye the man, majestic in distress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While thus they gaze and question with their eyes,<br/>
+The bold Melanthius to their thought replies:<br/>
+&ldquo;My lords! this stranger of gigantic port<br/>
+The good Eumaeus usher&rsquo;d to your court.<br/>
+Full well I mark&rsquo;d the features of his face,<br/>
+Though all unknown his clime, or noble race.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And is this present, swineherd! of thy band?<br/>
+Bring&rsquo;st thou these vagrants to infest the land?<br/>
+(Returns Antinous with retorted eye)<br/>
+Objects uncouth, to check the genial joy.<br/>
+Enough of these our court already grace;<br/>
+Of giant stomach, and of famish&rsquo;d face.<br/>
+Such guests Eumaeus to his country brings,<br/>
+To share our feast, and lead the life of kings.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the hospitable swain rejoins:<br/>
+&ldquo;Thy passion, prince, belies thy knowing mind.<br/>
+Who calls, from distant nations to his own,<br/>
+The poor, distinguish&rsquo;d by their wants alone?<br/>
+Round the wide world are sought those men divine<br/>
+Who public structures raise, or who design;<br/>
+Those to whose eyes the gods their ways reveal,<br/>
+Or bless with salutary arts to heal;<br/>
+But chief to poets such respect belongs,<br/>
+By rival nations courted for their songs;<br/>
+These states invite, and mighty kings admire,<br/>
+Wide as the sun displays his vital fire.<br/>
+It is not so with want! how few that feed<br/>
+A wretch unhappy, merely for his need!<br/>
+Unjust to me, and all that serve the state,<br/>
+To love Ulysses is to raise thy hate.<br/>
+For me, suffice the approbation won<br/>
+Of my great mistress, and her godlike son.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To him Telemachus: &ldquo;No more incense<br/>
+The man by nature prone to insolence:<br/>
+Injurious minds just answers but provoke&rdquo;&mdash;<br/>
+Then turning to Antinous, thus he spoke:<br/>
+&ldquo;Thanks to thy care! whose absolute command<br/>
+Thus drives the stranger from our court and land.<br/>
+Heaven bless its owner with a better mind!<br/>
+From envy free, to charity inclined.<br/>
+This both Penelope and I afford:<br/>
+Then, prince! be bounteous of Ulysses&rsquo; board.<br/>
+To give another&rsquo;s is thy hand so slow?<br/>
+So much more sweet to spoil than to bestow?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whence, great Telemachus! this lofty strain?<br/>
+(Antinous cries with insolent disdain):<br/>
+Portions like mine if every suitor gave,<br/>
+Our walls this twelvemonth should not see the slave.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke, and lifting high above the board<br/>
+His ponderous footstool, shook it at his lord.<br/>
+The rest with equal hand conferr&rsquo;d the bread:<br/>
+He fill&rsquo;d his scrip, and to the threshold sped;<br/>
+But first before Antinous stopp&rsquo;d, and said:<br/>
+&ldquo;Bestow, my friend! thou dost not seem the worst<br/>
+Of all the Greeks, but prince-like and the first;<br/>
+Then, as in dignity, be first in worth,<br/>
+And I shall praise thee through the boundless earth.<br/>
+Once I enjoy&rsquo;d in luxury of state<br/>
+Whate&rsquo;er gives man the envied name of great;<br/>
+Wealth, servants, friends, were mine in better days<br/>
+And hospitality was then my praise;<br/>
+In every sorrowing soul I pour&rsquo;d delight,<br/>
+And poverty stood smiling in my sight.<br/>
+But Jove, all-governing, whose only will<br/>
+Determines fate, and mingles good with ill,<br/>
+Sent me (to punish my pursuit of gain)<br/>
+With roving pirates o&rsquo;er the Egyptian main<br/>
+By Egypt&rsquo;s silver flood our ships we moor;<br/>
+Our spies commission&rsquo;d straight the coast explore;<br/>
+But impotent of mind, the lawless will<br/>
+The country ravage, and the natives kill.<br/>
+The spreading clamour to their city flies,<br/>
+And horse and foot in mingled tumults rise:<br/>
+The reddening dawn reveals the hostile fields,<br/>
+Horrid with bristly spears, and gleaming shields:<br/>
+Jove thunder&rsquo;d on their side: our guilty head<br/>
+We turn&rsquo;d to flight; the gathering vengeance spread<br/>
+On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lay dead.<br/>
+Some few the foe in servitude detain;<br/>
+Death ill exchanged for bondage and for pain!<br/>
+Unhappy me a Cyprian took aboard,<br/>
+And gave to Dmetor, Cyprus&rsquo; haughty lord:<br/>
+Hither, to &rsquo;scape his chains, my course I steer,<br/>
+Still cursed by Fortune, and insulted here!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom Antinous thus his rage express&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;What god has plagued us with this gourmand guest?<br/>
+Unless at distance, wretch! thou keep behind,<br/>
+Another isle, than Cyprus more unkind,<br/>
+Another Egypt shalt thou quickly find.<br/>
+From all thou begg&rsquo;st, a bold audacious slave;<br/>
+Nor all can give so much as thou canst crave.<br/>
+Nor wonder I, at such profusion shown;<br/>
+Shameless they give, who give what&rsquo;s not their own.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The chief, retiring: &ldquo;Souls, like that in thee,<br/>
+Ill suits such forms of grace and dignity.<br/>
+Nor will that hand to utmost need afford<br/>
+The smallest portion of a wasteful board,<br/>
+Whose luxury whole patrimonies sweeps,<br/>
+Yet starving want, amidst the riot, weeps.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The haughty suitor with resentment burns,<br/>
+And, sourly smiling, this reply returns:<br/>
+&ldquo;Take that, ere yet thou quit this princely throng;<br/>
+And dumb for ever be thy slanderous tongue!&rdquo;<br/>
+He said, and high the whirling tripod flung.<br/>
+His shoulder-blade received the ungentle shock;<br/>
+He stood, and moved not, like a marble rock;<br/>
+But shook his thoughtful head, nor more complain&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Sedate of soul, his character sustain&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And inly form&rsquo;d revenge; then back withdrew:<br/>
+Before his feet the well fill&rsquo;d scrip he threw,<br/>
+And thus with semblance mild address&rsquo;d the crew:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;May what I speak your princely minds approve,<br/>
+Ye peers and rivals in this noble love!<br/>
+Not for the hurt I grieve, but for the cause.<br/>
+If, when the sword our country&rsquo;s quarrel draws,<br/>
+Or if, defending what is justly dear,<br/>
+From Mars impartial some broad wound we bear,<br/>
+The generous motive dignifies the scar.<br/>
+But for mere want, how hard to suffer wrong!<br/>
+Want brings enough of other ills along!<br/>
+Yet, if injustice never be secure,<br/>
+If fiends revenge, and gods assert the poor,<br/>
+Death shall lay low the proud aggressor&rsquo;s head,<br/>
+And make the dust Antinous&rsquo; bridal bed.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Peace, wretch! and eat thy bread without offence<br/>
+(The suitor cried), or force shall drag thee hence,<br/>
+Scourge through the public street, and cast thee there,<br/>
+A mangled carcase for the hounds to tear.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His furious deed the general anger moved,<br/>
+All, even the worst, condemn&rsquo;d; and some reproved.<br/>
+&ldquo;Was ever chief for wars like these renown&rsquo;d?<br/>
+Ill fits the stranger and the poor to wound.<br/>
+Unbless&rsquo;d thy hand! if in this low disguise<br/>
+Wander, perhaps, some inmate of the skies;<br/>
+They (curious oft of mortal actions) deign<br/>
+In forms like these to round the earth and main,<br/>
+Just and unjust recording in their mind,<br/>
+And with sure eyes inspecting all mankind.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Telemachus, absorb&rsquo;d in thought severe,<br/>
+Nourish&rsquo;d deep anguish, though he shed no tear;<br/>
+But the dark brow of silent sorrow shook:<br/>
+While thus his mother to her virgins spoke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;On him and his may the bright god of day<br/>
+That base, inhospitable blow repay!&rdquo;<br/>
+The nurse replies: &ldquo;If Jove receives my prayer,<br/>
+Not one survives to breathe to-morrow&rsquo;s air.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;All, all are foes, and mischief is their end;<br/>
+Antinous most to gloomy death a friend<br/>
+(Replies the queen): the stranger begg&rsquo;d their grace,<br/>
+And melting pity soften&rsquo;d every face;<br/>
+From every other hand redress he found,<br/>
+But fell Antinous answer&rsquo;d with a wound.&rdquo;<br/>
+Amidst her maids thus spoke the prudent queen,<br/>
+Then bade Eumaeus call the pilgrim in.<br/>
+&ldquo;Much of the experienced man I long to hear,<br/>
+If or his certain eye, or listening ear,<br/>
+Have learn&rsquo;d the fortunes of my wandering lord?&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus she, and good Eumaeus took the word:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A private audience if thy grace impart,<br/>
+The stranger&rsquo;s words may ease the royal heart.<br/>
+His sacred eloquence in balm distils,<br/>
+And the soothed heart with secret pleasure fills.<br/>
+Three days have spent their beams, three nights have run<br/>
+Their silent journey, since his tale begun,<br/>
+Unfinish&rsquo;d yet; and yet I thirst to hear!<br/>
+As when some heaven-taught poet charms the ear<br/>
+(Suspending sorrow with celestial strain<br/>
+Breathed from the gods to soften human pain)<br/>
+Time steals away with unregarded wing,<br/>
+And the soul hears him, though he cease to sing
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ulysses late he saw, on Cretan ground<br/>
+(His fathers guest), for Minos&rsquo; birth renown&rsquo;d.<br/>
+He now but waits the wind to waft him o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+With boundless treasure, from Thesprotia&rsquo;s shore.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To this the queen: &ldquo;The wanderer let me hear,<br/>
+While yon luxurious race indulge their cheer,<br/>
+Devour the grazing ox, and browsing goat,<br/>
+And turn my generous vintage down their throat.<br/>
+For where&rsquo;s an arm, like thine, Ulysses! strong,<br/>
+To curb wild riot, and to punish wrong?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She spoke. Telemachus then sneezed aloud;<br/>
+Constrain&rsquo;d, his nostril echoed through the crowd.<br/>
+The smiling queen the happy omen bless&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;So may these impious fall, by Fate oppress&rsquo;d!&rdquo;<br/>
+Then to Eumaeus: &ldquo;Bring the stranger, fly!<br/>
+And if my questions meet a true reply,<br/>
+Graced with a decent robe he shall retire,<br/>
+A gift in season which his wants require.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus spoke Penelope. Eumaeus flies<br/>
+In duteous haste, and to Ulysses cries:<br/>
+&ldquo;The queen invites thee, venerable guest!<br/>
+A secret instinct moves her troubled breast,<br/>
+Of her long absent lord from thee to gain<br/>
+Some light, and soothe her soul&rsquo;s eternal pain.<br/>
+If true, if faithful thou, her grateful mind<br/>
+Of decent robes a present has design&rsquo;d:<br/>
+So finding favour in the royal eye,<br/>
+Thy other wants her subjects shall supply.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fair truth alone (the patient man replied)<br/>
+My words shall dictate, and my lips shall guide.<br/>
+To him, to me, one common lot was given,<br/>
+In equal woes, alas! involved by Heaven.<br/>
+Much of his fates I know; but check&rsquo;d by fear<br/>
+I stand; the hand of violence is here:<br/>
+Here boundless wrongs the starry skies invade,<br/>
+And injured suppliants seek in vain for aid.<br/>
+Let for a space the pensive queen attend,<br/>
+Nor claim my story till the sun descend;<br/>
+Then in such robes as suppliants may require,<br/>
+Composed and cheerful by the genial fire,<br/>
+When loud uproar and lawless riot cease,<br/>
+Shall her pleased ear receive my words in peace.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Swift to the queen returns the gentle swain:<br/>
+&ldquo;And say (she cries), does fear or shame detain<br/>
+The cautious stranger? With the begging kind<br/>
+Shame suits but ill.&rdquo; Eumaeus thus rejoin&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He only asks a more propitious hour,<br/>
+And shuns (who would not?) wicked men in power;<br/>
+At evening mild (meet season to confer)<br/>
+By turns to question, and by turns to hear.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Whoe&rsquo;er this guest (the prudent queen replies)<br/>
+His every step and every thought is wise.<br/>
+For men like these on earth he shall not find<br/>
+In all the miscreant race of human kind.&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus she. Eumaeus all her words attends,<br/>
+And, parting, to the suitor powers descends;<br/>
+There seeks Telemachus, and thus apart<br/>
+In whispers breathes the fondness of his heart:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The time, my lord, invites me to repair<br/>
+Hence to the lodge; my charge demands my care.<br/>
+These sons of murder thirst thy life to take;<br/>
+O guard it, guard it, for thy servant&rsquo;s sake!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thanks to my friend (he cries): but now the hour<br/>
+Of night draws on, go seek the rural bower:<br/>
+But first refresh: and at the dawn of day<br/>
+Hither a victim to the gods convey.<br/>
+Our life to Heaven&rsquo;s immortal powers we trust,<br/>
+Safe in their care, for Heaven protects the just.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Observant of his voice, Eumaeus sate<br/>
+And fed recumbent on a chair of state.<br/>
+Then instant rose, and as he moved along,<br/>
+&rsquo;Twas riot all amid the suitor throng,<br/>
+They feast, they dance, and raise the mirthful song<br/>
+Till now, declining towards the close of day,<br/>
+The sun obliquely shot his dewy ray.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap18"></a>BOOK XVIII.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE FIGHT OF ULYSSES AND IRUS.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+The beggar Irus insults Ulysses; the suitors promote the quarrel, in which Irus
+is worsted, and miserably handled. Penelope descends, and receives the presents
+of the suitors. The dialogue of Ulysses with Eurymachus.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+While fix&rsquo;d in thought the pensive hero sate,<br/>
+A mendicant approach&rsquo;d the royal gate;<br/>
+A surly vagrant of the giant kind,<br/>
+The stain of manhood, of a coward mind:<br/>
+From feast to feast, insatiate to devour,<br/>
+He flew, attendant on the genial hour.<br/>
+Him on his mother&rsquo;s knees, when babe he lay,<br/>
+She named Arnaeus on his natal day:<br/>
+But Irus his associates call&rsquo;d the boy,<br/>
+Practised the common messenger to fly;<br/>
+Irus, a name expressive of the employ.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From his own roof, with meditated blows,<br/>
+He strove to drive the man of mighty woes:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hence, dotard! hence, and timely speed thy way,<br/>
+Lest dragg&rsquo;d in vengeance thou repent thy stay;<br/>
+See how with nods assent yon princely train!<br/>
+But honouring age, in mercy I refrain:<br/>
+In peace away! lest, if persuasions fail,<br/>
+This arm with blows more eloquent prevail.&rdquo;<br/>
+To whom, with stern regard: &ldquo;O insolence,<br/>
+Indecently to rail without offence!<br/>
+What bounty gives without a rival share;<br/>
+I ask, what harms not thee, to breathe this air:<br/>
+Alike on alms we both precarious live:<br/>
+And canst thou envy when the great relieve?<br/>
+Know, from the bounteous heavens all riches flow,<br/>
+And what man gives, the gods by man bestow;<br/>
+Proud as thou art, henceforth no more be proud,<br/>
+Lest I imprint my vengeance in thy blood;<br/>
+Old as I am, should once my fury burn,<br/>
+How would&rsquo;st thou fly, nor e&rsquo;en in thought return!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mere woman-glutton! (thus the churl replied;)<br/>
+A tongue so flippant, with a throat so wide!<br/>
+Why cease I, gods! to dash those teeth away,<br/>
+Like some wild boar&rsquo;s, that, greedy of his prey,<br/>
+Uproots the bearded corn? Rise, try the fight,<br/>
+Gird well thy loins, approach, and feel my might:<br/>
+Sure of defeat, before the peers engage:<br/>
+Unequal fight, when youth contends with age!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus in a wordy war their tongues display<br/>
+More fierce intents, preluding to the fray;<br/>
+Antinous hears, and in a jovial vein,<br/>
+Thus with loud laughter to the suitor train:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;This happy day in mirth, my friends, employ,<br/>
+And lo! the gods conspire to crown our joy;<br/>
+See ready for the fight, and hand to hand,<br/>
+Yon surly mendicants contentious stand:<br/>
+Why urge we not to blows!&rdquo; Well pleased they spring<br/>
+Swift from their seats, and thickening form a ring.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom Antinous: &ldquo;Lo! enrich&rsquo;d with blood,<br/>
+A kid&rsquo;s well-fatted entrails (tasteful food)<br/>
+On glowing embers lie; on him bestow<br/>
+The choicest portion who subdues his foe;<br/>
+Grant him unrivall&rsquo;d in these walls to stay,<br/>
+The sole attendant on the genial day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lords applaud: Ulysses then with art,<br/>
+And fears well-feign&rsquo;d, disguised his dauntless heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Worn as I am with age, decay&rsquo;d with woe;<br/>
+Say, is it baseness to decline the foe?<br/>
+Hard conflict! when calamity and age<br/>
+With vigorous youth, unknown to cares, engage!<br/>
+Yet, fearful of disgrace, to try the day<br/>
+Imperious hunger bids, and I obey;<br/>
+But swear, impartial arbiters of right,<br/>
+Swear to stand neutral, while we cope in fight.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The peers assent: when straight his sacred head<br/>
+Telemachus upraised, and sternly said:<br/>
+&ldquo;Stranger, if prompted to chastise the wrong<br/>
+Of this bold insolent, confide, be strong!<br/>
+The injurious Greek that dares attempt a blow,<br/>
+That instant makes Telemachus his foe;<br/>
+And these my friends shall guard the sacred ties<br/>
+Of hospitality, for they are wise.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, girding his strong loins, the king prepares<br/>
+To close in combat, and his body bares;<br/>
+Broad spread his shoulders, and his nervous thighs<br/>
+By just degrees, like well-turn&rsquo;d columns, rise<br/>
+Ample his chest, his arms are round and long,<br/>
+And each strong joint Minerva knits more strong<br/>
+(Attendant on her chief): the suitor-crowd<br/>
+With wonder gaze, and gazing speak aloud:<br/>
+&ldquo;Irus! alas! shall Irus be no more?<br/>
+Black fate impends, and this the avenging hour!<br/>
+Gods! how his nerves a matchless strength proclaim,<br/>
+Swell o&rsquo;er his well-strong limbs, and brace his frame!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then pale with fears, and sickening at the sight;<br/>
+They dragg&rsquo;d the unwilling Irus to the fight;<br/>
+From his blank visage fled the coward blood,<br/>
+And his flesh trembled as aghast he stood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O that such baseness should disgrace the light?<br/>
+O hide it, death, in everlasting night!<br/>
+(Exclaims Antinous;) can a vigorous foe<br/>
+Meanly decline to combat age and woe?<br/>
+But hear me wretch! if recreant in the fray<br/>
+That huge bulk yield this ill-contested day,<br/>
+Instant thou sail&rsquo;st, to Eschetus resign&rsquo;d;<br/>
+A tyrant, fiercest of the tyrant kind,<br/>
+Who casts thy mangled ears and nose a prey<br/>
+To hungry dogs, and lops the man away.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While with indignant scorn he sternly spoke,<br/>
+In every joint the trembling Irus shook.<br/>
+Now front to front each frowning champion stands,<br/>
+And poises high in air his adverse hands.<br/>
+The chief yet doubts, or to the shades below<br/>
+To fell the giant at one vengeful blow,<br/>
+Or save his life, and soon his life to save<br/>
+The king resolves, for mercy sways the brave<br/>
+That instant Irus his huge arm extends,<br/>
+Full on his shoulder the rude weight descends;<br/>
+The sage Ulysses, fearful to disclose<br/>
+The hero latent in the man of woes,<br/>
+Check&rsquo;d half his might; yet rising to the stroke,<br/>
+His jawbone dash&rsquo;d, the crashing jawbone broke:<br/>
+Down dropp&rsquo;d he stupid from the stunning wound;<br/>
+His feet extended quivering, beat the ground;<br/>
+His mouth and nostrils spout a purple flood;<br/>
+His teeth, all shatter&rsquo;d, rush inmix&rsquo;d with blood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The peers transported, as outstretch&rsquo;d he lies,<br/>
+With bursts of laughter rend the vaulted skies;<br/>
+Then dragg&rsquo;d along, all bleeding from the wound,<br/>
+His length of carcase trailing prints the ground:<br/>
+Raised on his feet, again he reels, he falls,<br/>
+Till propp&rsquo;d, reclining on the palace walls:<br/>
+Then to his hand a staff the victor gave,<br/>
+And thus with just reproach address&rsquo;d the slave:<br/>
+&ldquo;There terrible, affright with dogs, and reign<br/>
+A dreaded tyrant o&rsquo;er the bestial train!<br/>
+But mercy to the poor and stranger show,<br/>
+Lest Heaven in vengeance send some mightier woe.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Scornful he spoke, and o&rsquo;er his shoulder flung<br/>
+The broad-patch&rsquo;d scrip in tatters hung<br/>
+Ill join&rsquo;d, and knotted to a twisted thong.<br/>
+Then, turning short, disdain&rsquo;d a further stay;<br/>
+But to the palace measured back the way.<br/>
+There, as he rested gathering in a ring,<br/>
+The peers with smiles address&rsquo;d their unknown king:<br/>
+&ldquo;Stranger, may Jove and all the aërial powers<br/>
+With every blessing crown thy happy hours!<br/>
+Our freedom to thy prowess&rsquo;d arm we owe<br/>
+From bold intrusion of thy coward foe:<br/>
+Instant the flying sail the slave shall wing<br/>
+To Eschetus, the monster of a king.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While pleased he hears, Antinous bears the food,<br/>
+A kid&rsquo;s well-fatted entrails, rich with blood;<br/>
+The bread from canisters of shining mould<br/>
+Amphinomus; and wines that laugh in gold:<br/>
+&ldquo;And oh! (he mildly cries) may Heaven display<br/>
+A beam of glory o&rsquo;er thy future day!<br/>
+Alas, the brave too oft is doom&rsquo;d to bear<br/>
+The gripes of poverty and stings of care.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom with thought mature the king replies:<br/>
+&ldquo;The tongue speaks wisely, when the soul is wise:<br/>
+Such was thy father! in imperial state,<br/>
+Great without vice, that oft attends the great;<br/>
+Nor from the sire art thou, the son, declin&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Then hear my words, and grace them in thy mind!<br/>
+Of all that breathes, or grovelling creeps on earth,<br/>
+Most vain is man! calamitous by birth:<br/>
+To-day, with power elate, in strength he blooms;<br/>
+The haughty creature on that power presumes:<br/>
+Anon from Heaven a sad reverse he feels:<br/>
+Untaught to bear, &rsquo;gainst Heaven the wretch rebels.<br/>
+For man is changeful, as his bliss or woe!<br/>
+Too high when prosperous, when distress&rsquo;d too low.<br/>
+There was a day, when with the scornful great<br/>
+I swell&rsquo;d in pomp and arrogance of state;<br/>
+Proud of the power that to high birth belongs;<br/>
+And used that power to justify my wrongs.<br/>
+Then let not man be proud; but firm of mind,<br/>
+Bear the best humbly; and the worst resign&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Be dumb when Heaven afflicts! unlike yon train<br/>
+Of haughty spoilers, insolently vain;<br/>
+Who make their queen and all her wealth a prey:<br/>
+But vengeance and Ulysses wing their way.<br/>
+O may&rsquo;st thou, favour&rsquo;d by some guardian power,<br/>
+Far, far be distant in that deathful hour!<br/>
+For sure I am, if stern Ulysses breathe,<br/>
+These lawless riots end in blood and death.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then to the gods the rosy juice he pours,<br/>
+And the drain&rsquo;d goblet to the chief restores.<br/>
+Stung to the soul, o&rsquo;ercast with holy dread,<br/>
+He shook the graceful honours of his head;<br/>
+His boding mind the future woe forestalls,<br/>
+In vain! by great Telemachus he falls,<br/>
+For Pallas seals his doom: all sad he turns<br/>
+To join the peers; resumes his throne, and mourns.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile Minerva with instinctive fires<br/>
+Thy soul, Penelope, from Heaven inspires;<br/>
+With flattering hopes the suitors to betray,<br/>
+And seem to meet, yet fly, the bridal day:<br/>
+Thy husband&rsquo;s wonder, and thy son&rsquo;s to raise;<br/>
+And crown the mother and the wife with praise.<br/>
+Then, while the streaming sorrow dims her eyes,<br/>
+Thus, with a transient smile, the matron cries:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Eurynome! to go where riot reigns<br/>
+I feel an impulse, though my soul disdains;<br/>
+To my loved son the snares of death to show,<br/>
+And in the traitor friend, unmask the foe;<br/>
+Who, smooth of tongue, in purpose insincere,<br/>
+Hides fraud in smiles, while death is ambush&rsquo;d there.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go, warn thy son, nor be the warning vain<br/>
+(Replied the sagest of the royal train);<br/>
+But bathed, anointed, and adorn&rsquo;d, descend;<br/>
+Powerful of charms, bid every grace attend;<br/>
+The tide of flowing tears awhile suppress;<br/>
+Tears but indulge the sorrow, not repress.<br/>
+Some joy remains: to thee a son is given,<br/>
+Such as, in fondness, parents ask of Heaven.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah me! forbear!&rdquo; returns the queen, &ldquo;forbear,<br/>
+Oh! talk not, talk not of vain beauty&rsquo;s care;<br/>
+No more I bathe, since he no longer sees<br/>
+Those charms, for whom alone I wish to please.<br/>
+The day that bore Ulysses from this coast<br/>
+Blasted the little bloom these cheeks could boast.<br/>
+But instant bid Autonoe descend,<br/>
+Instant Hippodame our steps attend;<br/>
+Ill suits it female virtue, to be seen<br/>
+Alone, indecent, in the walks of men.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then while Eurynome the mandate bears,<br/>
+From heaven Minerva shoots with guardian cares;<br/>
+O&rsquo;er all her senses, as the couch she press&rsquo;d,<br/>
+She pours, a pleasing, deep and death-like rest,<br/>
+With every beauty every feature arms,<br/>
+Bids her cheeks glow, and lights up all her charms;<br/>
+In her love-darting eyes awakes the fires<br/>
+(Immortal gifts! to kindle soft desires);<br/>
+From limb to limb an air majestic sheds,<br/>
+And the pure ivory o&rsquo;er her bosom spreads.<br/>
+Such Venus shines, when with a measured bound<br/>
+She smoothly gliding swims the harmonious round,<br/>
+When with the Graces in the dance she moves,<br/>
+And fires the gazing gods with ardent loves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then to the skies her flight Minerva bends,<br/>
+And to the queen the damsel train descends;<br/>
+Waked at their steps, her flowing eyes unclose;<br/>
+The tears she wipes, and thus renews her woes:<br/>
+&ldquo;Howe&rsquo;er &rsquo;tis well that sleep awhile can free,<br/>
+With soft forgetfulness a wretch like me;<br/>
+Oh! were it given to yield this transient breath,<br/>
+Send, O Diana! send the sleep of death!<br/>
+Why must I waste a tedious life in tears,<br/>
+Nor bury in the silent grave my cares?<br/>
+O my Ulysses! ever honour&rsquo;d name!<br/>
+For thee I mourn till death dissolves my frame.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus wailing, slow and sadly she descends,<br/>
+On either band a damsel train attends:<br/>
+Full where the dome its shining valves expands,<br/>
+Radiant before the gazing peers she stands;<br/>
+A veil translucent o&rsquo;er her brow display&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Her beauty seems, and only seems, to shade:<br/>
+Sudden she lightens in their dazzled eyes,<br/>
+And sudden flames in every bosom rise;<br/>
+They send their eager souls with every look.<br/>
+Till silence thus the imperial matron broke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O why! my son, why now no more appears<br/>
+That warmth of soul that urged thy younger years?<br/>
+Thy riper days no growing worth impart,<br/>
+A man in stature, still a boy in heart!<br/>
+Thy well-knit frame unprofitably strong,<br/>
+Speaks thee a hero, from a hero sprung:<br/>
+But the just gods in vain those gifts bestow,<br/>
+O wise alone in form, and grave in show!<br/>
+Heavens! could a stranger feel oppression&rsquo;s hand<br/>
+Beneath thy roof, and couldst thou tamely stand!<br/>
+If thou the stranger&rsquo;s righteous cause decline<br/>
+His is the sufferance, but the shame is thine.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom, with filial awe, the prince returns:<br/>
+&ldquo;That generous soul with just resentment burns;<br/>
+Yet, taught by time, my heart has learn&rsquo;d to glow<br/>
+For others&rsquo; good, and melt at others&rsquo; woe;<br/>
+But, impotent those riots to repel,<br/>
+I bear their outrage, though my soul rebel;<br/>
+Helpless amid the snares of death I tread,<br/>
+And numbers leagued in impious union dread;<br/>
+But now no crime is theirs: this wrong proceeds<br/>
+From Irus, and the guilty Irus bleeds.<br/>
+Oh would to Jove! or her whose arms display<br/>
+The shield of Jove, or him who rules the day!<br/>
+That yon proud suitors, who licentious tread<br/>
+These courts, within these courts like Irus bled:<br/>
+Whose loose head tottering, as with wine oppress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Obliquely drops, and nodding knocks his breast;<br/>
+Powerless to move, his staggering feet deny<br/>
+The coward wretch the privilege to fly.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then to the queen Eurymachus replies:<br/>
+&ldquo;O justly loved, and not more fair than wise!<br/>
+Should Greece through all her hundred states survey<br/>
+Thy finish&rsquo;d charms, all Greece would own thy sway<br/>
+In rival crowds contest the glorious prize.<br/>
+Dispeopling realms to gaze upon thy eyes:<br/>
+O woman! loveliest of the lovely kind,<br/>
+In body perfect, and complete in mind.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah me! (returns the queen) when from this shore<br/>
+Ulysses sail&rsquo;d, then beauty was no more!<br/>
+The gods decreed these eyes no more should keep<br/>
+Their wonted grace, but only serve to weep.<br/>
+Should he return, whate&rsquo;er my beauties prove,<br/>
+My virtues last; my brightest charm is love.<br/>
+Now, grief, thou all art mine! the gods o&rsquo;ercast<br/>
+My soul with woes, that long, ah long must last!<br/>
+Too faithfully my heart retains the day<br/>
+That sadly tore my royal lord away:<br/>
+He grasp&rsquo;d my hand, and, &lsquo;O, my spouse! I leave<br/>
+Thy arms (he cried), perhaps to find a grave:<br/>
+Fame speaks the Trojans bold; they boast the skill<br/>
+To give the feather&rsquo;d arrow wings to kill,<br/>
+To dart the spear, and guide the rushing car<br/>
+With dreadful inroad through the walks of war.<br/>
+My sentence is gone forth, and &rsquo;tis decreed<br/>
+Perhaps by righteous Heaven that I must bleed!<br/>
+My father, mother, all I trust to three;<br/>
+To them, to them, transfer the love of me:<br/>
+But, when my son grows man, the royal sway<br/>
+Resign, and happy be thy bridal day!&rsquo;<br/>
+Such were his words; and Hymen now prepares<br/>
+To light his torch, and give me up to cares;<br/>
+The afflictive hand of wrathful Jove to bear:<br/>
+A wretch the most complete that breathes the air!<br/>
+Fall&rsquo;n e&rsquo;en below the rights to woman due!<br/>
+Careless to please, with insolence ye woo!<br/>
+The generous lovers, studious to succeed,<br/>
+Bid their whole herds and flocks in banquets bleed;<br/>
+By precious gifts the vow sincere display:<br/>
+You, only you, make her ye love your prey.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well-pleased Ulysses hears his queen deceive<br/>
+The suitor-train, and raise a thirst to give:<br/>
+False hopes she kindles, but those hopes betray,<br/>
+And promise, yet elude, the bridal day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While yet she speaks, the gay Antinous cries:<br/>
+&ldquo;Offspring of kings, and more than woman wise!<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis right; &rsquo;tis man&rsquo;s prerogative to give,<br/>
+And custom bids thee without shame receive;<br/>
+Yet never, never, from thy dome we move,<br/>
+Till Hymen lights the torch of spousal love.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The peers despatch&rsquo;d their heralds to convey<br/>
+The gifts of love; with speed they take the way.<br/>
+A robe Antinous gives of shining dyes,<br/>
+The varying hues in gay confusion rise<br/>
+Rich from the artist&rsquo;s hand! Twelve clasps of gold<br/>
+Close to the lessening waist the vest infold!<br/>
+Down from the swelling loins the vest unbound<br/>
+Floats in bright waves redundant o&rsquo;er the ground,<br/>
+A bracelet rich with gold, with amber gay,<br/>
+That shot effulgence like the solar ray,<br/>
+Eurymachus presents: and ear-rings bright,<br/>
+With triple stars, that cast a trembling light.<br/>
+Pisander bears a necklace wrought with art:<br/>
+And every peer, expressive of his heart,<br/>
+A gift bestows: this done, the queen ascends,<br/>
+And slow behind her damsel train attends.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then to the dance they form the vocal strain,<br/>
+Till Hesperus leads forth the starry train;<br/>
+And now he raises, as the daylight fades,<br/>
+His golden circlet in the deepening shades:<br/>
+Three vases heap&rsquo;d with copious fires display<br/>
+O&rsquo;er all the palace a fictitious day;<br/>
+From space to space the torch wide-beaming burns,<br/>
+And sprightly damsels trim the rays by turns.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the king: &ldquo;Ill suits your sex to stay<br/>
+Alone with men! ye modest maids, away!<br/>
+Go, with the queen; the spindle guide; or cull<br/>
+(The partners of her cares) the silver wool;<br/>
+Be it my task the torches to supply<br/>
+E&rsquo;en till the morning lamp adorns the sky;<br/>
+E&rsquo;en till the morning, with unwearied care,<br/>
+Sleepless I watch; for I have learn&rsquo;d to bear.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Scornful they heard: Melantho, fair and young,<br/>
+(Melantho, from the loins of Dolius sprung,<br/>
+Who with the queen her years an infant led,<br/>
+With the soft fondness of a daughter bred,)<br/>
+Chiefly derides: regardless of the cares<br/>
+Her queen endures, polluted joys she shares<br/>
+Nocturnal with Eurymachus: with eyes<br/>
+That speak disdain, the wanton thus replies:<br/>
+&ldquo;Oh! whither wanders thy distemper&rsquo;d brain,<br/>
+Thou bold intruder on a princely train?<br/>
+Hence, to the vagrants&rsquo; rendezvous repair;<br/>
+Or shun in some black forge the midnight air.<br/>
+Proceeds this boldness from a turn of soul,<br/>
+Or flows licentious from the copious bowl?<br/>
+Is it that vanquish&rsquo;d Irus swells thy mind?<br/>
+A foe may meet thee of a braver kind,<br/>
+Who, shortening with a storm of blows thy stay,<br/>
+Shall send thee howling all in blood away!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom with frowns: &ldquo;O impudent in wrong!<br/>
+Thy lord shall curb that insolence of tongue;<br/>
+Know, to Telemachus I tell the offence;<br/>
+The scourge, the scourge shall lash thee into sense.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With conscious shame they hear the stern rebuke,<br/>
+Nor longer durst sustain the sovereign look.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then to the servile task the monarch turns<br/>
+His royal hands: each torch refulgent burns<br/>
+With added day: meanwhile in museful mood,<br/>
+Absorb&rsquo;d in thought, on vengeance fix&rsquo;d he stood.<br/>
+And now the martial maid, by deeper wrongs<br/>
+To rouse Ulysses, points the suitors&rsquo; tongues:<br/>
+Scornful of age, to taunt the virtuous man,<br/>
+Thoughtless and gay, Eurymachus began:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hear me (he cries), confederates and friends!<br/>
+Some god, no doubt, this stranger kindly sends;<br/>
+The shining baldness of his head survey,<br/>
+It aids our torchlight, and reflects the ray.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then to the king that levell&rsquo;d haughty Troy:<br/>
+&ldquo;Say, if large hire can tempt thee to employ<br/>
+Those hands in work; to tend the rural trade,<br/>
+To dress the walk, and form the embowering shade.<br/>
+So food and raiment constant will I give:<br/>
+But idly thus thy soul prefers to live,<br/>
+And starve by strolling, not by work to thrive.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom incensed: &ldquo;Should we, O prince, engage<br/>
+In rival tasks beneath the burning rage<br/>
+Of summer suns; were both constrain&rsquo;d to wield<br/>
+Foodless the scythe along the burden&rsquo;d field;<br/>
+Or should we labour while the ploughshare wounds,<br/>
+With steers of equal strength, the allotted grounds,<br/>
+Beneath my labours, how thy wondering eyes<br/>
+Might see the sable field at once arise!<br/>
+Should Jove dire war unloose, with spear and shield,<br/>
+And nodding helm, I tread the ensanguined field,<br/>
+Fierce in the van: then wouldst thou, wouldst thou,&mdash;say,&mdash;<br/>
+Misname me glutton, in that glorious day?<br/>
+No, thy ill-judging thoughts the brave disgrace<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis thou injurious art, not I am base.<br/>
+Proud to seem brave among a coward train!<br/>
+But now, thou art not valorous, but vain.<br/>
+God! should the stern Ulysses rise in might,<br/>
+These gates would seem too narrow for thy flight.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While yet he speaks, Eurymachus replies,<br/>
+With indignation flashing from his eyes:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Slave, I with justice might deserve the wrong,<br/>
+Should I not punish that opprobrious tongue.<br/>
+Irreverent to the great, and uncontroll&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Art thou from wine, or innate folly, bold?<br/>
+Perhaps these outrages from Irus flow,<br/>
+A worthless triumph o&rsquo;er a worthless foe!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said, and with full force a footstool threw;<br/>
+Whirl&rsquo;d from his arm, with erring rage it flew:<br/>
+Ulysses, cautious of the vengeful foe,<br/>
+Stoops to the ground, and disappoints the blow.<br/>
+Not so a youth, who deals the goblet round,<br/>
+Full on his shoulder it inflicts a wound;<br/>
+Dash&rsquo;d from his hand the sounding goblet flies,<br/>
+He shrieks, he reels, he falls, and breathless lies.<br/>
+Then wild uproar and clamour mount the sky,<br/>
+Till mutual thus the peers indignant cry:<br/>
+&ldquo;Oh had this stranger sunk to realms beneath,<br/>
+To the black realms of darkness and of death,<br/>
+Ere yet he trod these shores! to strife he draws<br/>
+Peer against peer; and what the weighty cause?<br/>
+A vagabond! for him the great destroy,<br/>
+In vile ignoble jars, the feast of joy.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the stern Telemachus uprose;<br/>
+&ldquo;Gods! what wild folly from the goblet flows!<br/>
+Whence this unguarded openness of soul,<br/>
+But from the license of the copious bowl?<br/>
+Or Heaven delusion sends: but hence away!<br/>
+Force I forbear, and without force obey.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Silent, abash&rsquo;d, they hear the stern rebuke,<br/>
+Till thus Amphinomus the silence broke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;True are his words, and he whom truth offends,<br/>
+Not with Telemachus, but truth contends;<br/>
+Let not the hand of violence invade<br/>
+The reverend stranger, or the spotless maid;<br/>
+Retire we hence, but crown with rosy wine<br/>
+The flowing goblet to the powers divine!<br/>
+Guard he his guest beneath whose roof he stands:<br/>
+This justice, this the social rite demands.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The peers assent: the goblet Mulius crown&rsquo;d<br/>
+With purple juice, and bore in order round:<br/>
+Each peer successive his libation pours<br/>
+To the blest gods who fill&rsquo;d the ethereal bowers:<br/>
+Then swill&rsquo;d with wine, with noise the crowds obey,<br/>
+And rushing forth, tumultuous reel away.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap19"></a>BOOK XIX.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE DISCOVERY OF ULYSSES TO EURYCLEA.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Ulysses and his son remove the weapons out of the armoury. Ulysses, in
+conversation with Penelope, gives a fictitious account of his adventures; then
+assures her he had formerly entertained her husband in Crete; and describes
+exactly his person and dress; affirms to have heard of him in Phæacia and
+Thesprotia, and that his return is certain, and within a month. He then goes to
+bathe, and is attended by Euryclea, who discovers him to be Ulysses by the scar
+upon his leg, which he formerly received in hunting the wild boar on Parnassus.
+The poet inserts a digression relating that accident, with all its particulars.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Consulting secret with the blue-eyed maid,<br/>
+Still in the dome divine Ulysses stay&rsquo;d:<br/>
+Revenge mature for act inflamed his breast;<br/>
+And thus the son the fervent sire address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Instant convey those steely stores of war<br/>
+To distant rooms, disposed with secret care:<br/>
+The cause demanded by the suitor-train,<br/>
+To soothe their fears, a specious reason feign:<br/>
+Say, since Ulysses left his natal coast,<br/>
+Obscene with smoke, their beamy lustre lost,<br/>
+His arms deform the roof they wont adorn:<br/>
+From the glad walls inglorious lumber torn.<br/>
+Suggest, that Jove the peaceful thought inspired,<br/>
+Lest they, by sight of swords to fury fired,<br/>
+Dishonest wounds, or violence of soul,<br/>
+Defame the bridal feast and friendly bowl.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The prince, obedient to the sage command,<br/>
+To Euryclea thus: &ldquo;The female band<br/>
+In their apartments keep; secure the doors;<br/>
+These swarthy arms among the covert stores<br/>
+Are seemlier hid; my thoughtless youth they blame,<br/>
+Imbrown&rsquo;d with vapour of the smouldering flame.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;In happier hour (pleased Euryclea cries),<br/>
+Tutour&rsquo;d by early woes, grow early wise;<br/>
+Inspect with sharpen&rsquo;d sight, and frugal care,<br/>
+Your patrimonial wealth, a prudent heir.<br/>
+But who the lighted taper will provide<br/>
+(The female train retired) your toils to guide?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Without infringing hospitable right,<br/>
+This guest (he cried) shall bear the guiding light:<br/>
+I cheer no lazy vagrants with repast;<br/>
+They share the meal that earn it ere they taste.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said: from female ken she straight secures<br/>
+The purposed deed, and guards the bolted doors:<br/>
+Auxiliar to his son, Ulysses bears<br/>
+The plumy-crested helms and pointed spears,<br/>
+With shields indented deep in glorious wars.<br/>
+Minerva viewless on her charge attends,<br/>
+And with her golden lamp his toil befriends.<br/>
+Not such the sickly beams, which unsincere<br/>
+Gild the gross vapour of this nether sphere!<br/>
+A present deity the prince confess&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And wrapp&rsquo;d with ecstasy the sire address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What miracle thus dazzles with surprise!<br/>
+Distinct in rows the radiant columns rise;<br/>
+The walls, where&rsquo;er my wondering sight I turn,<br/>
+And roofs, amidst a blaze of glory burn!<br/>
+Some visitant of pure ethereal race<br/>
+With his bright presence deigns the dome to grace.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be calm (replies the sire); to none impart,<br/>
+But oft revolve the vision in thy heart:<br/>
+Celestials, mantled in excess of light,<br/>
+Can visit unapproach&rsquo;d by mortal sight.<br/>
+Seek thou repose: whilst here I sole remain,<br/>
+To explore the conduct of the female train:<br/>
+The pensive queen, perchance, desires to know<br/>
+The series of my toils, to soothe her woe.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With tapers flaming day his train attends,<br/>
+His bright alcove the obsequious youth ascends:<br/>
+Soft slumberous shades his drooping eyelids close,<br/>
+Till on her eastern throne Aurora glows.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whilst, forming plans of death, Ulysses stay&rsquo;d,<br/>
+In counsel secret with the martial maid,<br/>
+Attendant nymphs in beauteous order wait<br/>
+The queen, descending from her bower of state.<br/>
+Her cheeks the warmer blush of Venus wear,<br/>
+Chasten&rsquo;d with coy Diana&rsquo;s pensive air.<br/>
+An ivory seat with silver ringlets graced,<br/>
+By famed Icmalius wrought, the menials placed:<br/>
+With ivory silver&rsquo;d thick the footstool shone,<br/>
+O&rsquo;er which the panther&rsquo;s various hide was thrown.<br/>
+The sovereign seat with graceful air she press&rsquo;d;<br/>
+To different tasks their toil the nymphs address&rsquo;d:<br/>
+The golden goblets some, and some restored<br/>
+From stains of luxury the polish&rsquo;d board:<br/>
+These to remove the expiring embers came,<br/>
+While those with unctuous fir foment the flame.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&rsquo;Twas then Melantho with imperious mien<br/>
+Renew&rsquo;d the attack, incontinent of spleen:<br/>
+&ldquo;Avaunt (she cried), offensive to my sight!<br/>
+Deem not in ambush here to lurk by night,<br/>
+Into the woman-state asquint to pry;<br/>
+A day-devourer, and an evening spy!<br/>
+Vagrant, begone! before this blazing brand<br/>
+Shall urge&rdquo;&mdash;and waved it hissing in her hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The insulted hero rolls his wrathful eyes<br/>
+And &ldquo;Why so turbulent of soul? (he cries;)<br/>
+Can these lean shrivell&rsquo;d limbs, unnerved with age,<br/>
+These poor but honest rags, enkindle rage?<br/>
+In crowds, we wear the badge of hungry fate:<br/>
+And beg, degraded from superior state!<br/>
+Constrain&rsquo;d a rent-charge on the rich I live;<br/>
+Reduced to crave the good I once could give:<br/>
+A palace, wealth, and slaves, I late possess&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And all that makes the great be call&rsquo;d the bless&rsquo;d:<br/>
+My gate, an emblem of my open soul,<br/>
+Embraced the poor, and dealt a bounteous dole.<br/>
+Scorn not the sad reverse, injurious maid!<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis Jove&rsquo;s high will, and be his will obey&rsquo;d!<br/>
+Nor think thyself exempt: that rosy prime<br/>
+Must share the general doom of withering time:<br/>
+To some new channel soon the changeful tide<br/>
+Of royal grace the offended queen may guide;<br/>
+And her loved lord unplume thy towering pride.<br/>
+Or, were he dead, &rsquo;tis wisdom to beware:<br/>
+Sweet blooms the prince beneath Apollo&rsquo;s care;<br/>
+Your deeds with quick impartial eye surveys,<br/>
+Potent to punish what he cannot praise.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her keen reproach had reach&rsquo;d the sovereign&rsquo;s ear:<br/>
+&ldquo;Loquacious insolent! (she cries,) forbear;<br/>
+To thee the purpose of my soul I told;<br/>
+Venial discourse, unblamed, with him to hold;<br/>
+The storied labours of my wandering lord,<br/>
+To soothe my grief he haply may record:<br/>
+Yet him, my guest, thy venom&rsquo;d rage hath stung;<br/>
+Thy head shall pay the forfeit of thy tongue!<br/>
+But thou on whom my palace cares depend,<br/>
+Eurynome, regard the stranger-friend:<br/>
+A seat, soft spread with furry spoils, prepare;<br/>
+Due-distant for us both to speak, and hear.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The menial fair obeys with duteous haste:<br/>
+A seat adorn&rsquo;d with furry spoils she placed:<br/>
+Due-distant for discourse the hero sate;<br/>
+When thus the sovereign from her chair of state:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Reveal, obsequious to my first demand,<br/>
+Thy name, thy lineage, and thy natal land.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He thus: &ldquo;O queen! whose far-resounding fame<br/>
+Is bounded only by the starry frame,<br/>
+Consummate pattern of imperial sway,<br/>
+Whose pious rule a warlike race obey!<br/>
+In wavy gold thy summer vales are dress&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Thy autumns bind with copious fruit oppress&rsquo;d:<br/>
+With flocks and herds each grassy plain is stored;<br/>
+And fish of every fin thy seas afford:<br/>
+Their affluent joys the grateful realms confess;<br/>
+And bless the power that still delights to bless,<br/>
+Gracious permit this prayer, imperial dame!<br/>
+Forbear to know my lineage, or my name:<br/>
+Urge not this breast to heave, these eyes to weep;<br/>
+In sweet oblivion let my sorrows sleep!<br/>
+My woes awaked, will violate your ear,<br/>
+And to this gay censorious train appear<br/>
+A whiny vapour melting in a tear.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Their gifts the gods resumed (the queen rejoin&rsquo;d),<br/>
+Exterior grace, and energy of mind,<br/>
+When the dear partner of my nuptial joy,<br/>
+Auxiliar troops combined, to conquer Troy.<br/>
+My lord&rsquo;s protecting hand alone would raise<br/>
+My drooping verdure, and extend my praise!<br/>
+Peers from the distant Samian shore resort:<br/>
+Here with Dulichians join&rsquo;d, besiege the court:<br/>
+Zacynthus, green with ever-shady groves,<br/>
+And Ithaca, presumptuous, boast their loves:<br/>
+Obtruding on my choice a second lord,<br/>
+They press the Hymenaean rite abhorr&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Misrule thus mingling with domestic cares,<br/>
+I live regardless of my state affairs;<br/>
+Receive no stranger-guest, no poor relieve;<br/>
+But ever for my lord in secret grieve!&mdash;<br/>
+This art, instinct by some celestial power,<br/>
+I tried, elusive of the bridal hour:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Ye peers, (I cry,) who press to gain a heart,<br/>
+Where dead Ulysses claims no future part;<br/>
+Rebate your loves, each rival suit suspend,<br/>
+Till this funeral web my labours end:<br/>
+Cease, till to good Laertes I bequeath<br/>
+A pall of state, the ornament of death.<br/>
+For when to fate he bows, each Grecian dame<br/>
+With just reproach were licensed to defame,<br/>
+Should he, long honour&rsquo;d in supreme command,<br/>
+Want the last duties of a daughter&rsquo;s hand.&rsquo;<br/>
+The fiction pleased; their loves I long elude;<br/>
+The night still ravell&rsquo;d what the day renew&rsquo;d:<br/>
+Three years successful in my heart conceal&rsquo;d,<br/>
+My ineffectual fraud the fourth reveal&rsquo;d:<br/>
+Befriended by my own domestic spies,<br/>
+The woof unwrought the suitor-train surprise.<br/>
+From nuptial rites they now no more recede,<br/>
+And fear forbids to falsify the brede.<br/>
+My anxious parents urge a speedy choice,<br/>
+And to their suffrage gain the filial voice.<br/>
+For rule mature, Telemachus deplores<br/>
+His dome dishonour&rsquo;d, and exhausted stores&mdash;<br/>
+But, stranger! as thy days seem full of fate,<br/>
+Divide discourse, in turn thy birth relate:<br/>
+Thy port asserts thee of distinguish&rsquo;d race;<br/>
+No poor unfather&rsquo;d product of disgrace.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Princess! (he cries,) renew&rsquo;d by your command,<br/>
+The dear remembrance of my native land<br/>
+Of secret grief unseals the fruitful source;<br/>
+Fond tears repeat their long-forgotten course!<br/>
+So pays the wretch whom fate constrains to roam,<br/>
+The dues of nature to his natal home!&mdash;<br/>
+But inward on my soul let sorrow prey,<br/>
+Your sovereign will my duty bids obey.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Crete awes the circling waves, a fruitful soil!<br/>
+And ninety cities crown the sea-born isle:<br/>
+Mix&rsquo;d with her genuine sons, adopted names<br/>
+In various tongues avow their various claims:<br/>
+Cydonians, dreadful with the bended yew,<br/>
+And bold Pelasgi boast a native&rsquo;s due:<br/>
+The Dorians, plumed amid the files of war,<br/>
+Her foodful glebe with fierce Achaians share;<br/>
+Cnossus, her capital of high command;<br/>
+Where sceptred Minos with impartial hand<br/>
+Divided right: each ninth revolving year,<br/>
+By Jove received in council to confer.<br/>
+His son Deucalion bore successive sway:<br/>
+His son, who gave me first to view the day!<br/>
+The royal bed an elder issue bless&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Idomeneus whom Ilion fields attest<br/>
+Of matchless deeds: untrain&rsquo;d to martial toil,<br/>
+I lived inglorious in my native isle,<br/>
+Studious of peace, and Æthon is my name.<br/>
+&rsquo;Twas then to Crete the great Ulysses came.<br/>
+For elemental war, and wintry Jove,<br/>
+From Malea&rsquo;s gusty cape his navy drove<br/>
+To bright Lucina&rsquo;s fane; the shelfy coast<br/>
+Where loud Amnisus in the deep is lost.<br/>
+His vessels moor&rsquo;d (an incommodious port!)<br/>
+The hero speeded to the Cnossian court:<br/>
+Ardent the partner of his arms to find,<br/>
+In leagues of long commutual friendship join&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Vain hope! ten suns had warm&rsquo;d the western strand<br/>
+Since my brave brother, with his Cretan band,<br/>
+Had sail&rsquo;d for Troy: but to the genial feast<br/>
+My honour&rsquo;d roof received the royal guest:<br/>
+Beeves for his train the Cnossian peers assign,<br/>
+A public treat, with jars of generous wine.<br/>
+Twelve days while Boreas vex&rsquo;d the aërial space,<br/>
+My hospitable dome he deign&rsquo;d to grace:<br/>
+And when the north had ceased the stormy roar,<br/>
+He wing&rsquo;d his voyage to the Phrygian shore.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus the fam&rsquo;d hero, perfected in wiles,<br/>
+With fair similitude of truth beguiles<br/>
+The queen&rsquo;s attentive ear: dissolved in woe,<br/>
+From her bright eyes the tears unbounded flow,<br/>
+As snows collected on the mountain freeze;<br/>
+When milder regions breathe a vernal breeze,<br/>
+The fleecy pile obeys the whispering gales,<br/>
+Ends in a stream, and murmurs through the vales:<br/>
+So, melting with the pleasing tale he told,<br/>
+Down her fair cheek the copious torrent roll&rsquo;d:<br/>
+She to her present lord laments him lost,<br/>
+And views that object which she wants the most,<br/>
+Withering at heart to see the weeping fair,<br/>
+His eyes look stern, and cast a gloomy stare;<br/>
+Of horn the stiff relentless balls appear,<br/>
+Or globes of iron fix&rsquo;d in either sphere;<br/>
+Firm wisdom interdicts the softening tear.<br/>
+A speechless interval of grief ensues,<br/>
+Till thus the queen the tender theme renews.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Stranger! that e&rsquo;er thy hospitable roof<br/>
+Ulysses graced, confirm by faithful proof;<br/>
+Delineate to my view my warlike lord,<br/>
+His form, his habit, and his train record.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Tis hard (he cries,) to bring to sudden sight<br/>
+Ideas that have wing&rsquo;d their distant flight;<br/>
+Rare on the mind those images are traced,<br/>
+Whose footsteps twenty winters have defaced:<br/>
+But what I can, receive.&mdash;In ample mode,<br/>
+A robe of military purple flow&rsquo;d<br/>
+O&rsquo;er all his frame: illustrious on his breast,<br/>
+The double-clasping gold the king confess&rsquo;d.<br/>
+In the rich woof a hound, mosaic drawn,<br/>
+Bore on full stretch, and seized a dappled fawn;<br/>
+Deep in the neck his fangs indent their hold;<br/>
+They pant and struggle in the moving gold.<br/>
+Fine as a filmy web beneath it shone<br/>
+A vest, that dazzled like a cloudless sun:<br/>
+The female train who round him throng&rsquo;d to gaze,<br/>
+In silent wonder sigh&rsquo;d unwilling praise.<br/>
+A sabre, when the warrior press&rsquo;d to part,<br/>
+I gave, enamell&rsquo;d with Vulcanian art:<br/>
+A mantle purple-tinged, and radiant vest,<br/>
+Dimension&rsquo;d equal to his size, express&rsquo;d<br/>
+Affection grateful to my honour&rsquo;d guest.<br/>
+A favourite herald in his train I knew,<br/>
+His visage solemn, sad of sable hue:<br/>
+Short woolly curls o&rsquo;erfleeced his bending head,<br/>
+O&rsquo;er which a promontory shoulder spread;<br/>
+Eurybates; in whose large soul alone<br/>
+Ulysses view&rsquo;d an image of his own.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His speech the tempest of her grief restored;<br/>
+In all he told she recognized her lord:<br/>
+But when the storm was spent in plenteous showers,<br/>
+A pause inspiriting her languish&rsquo;d powers,<br/>
+&ldquo;O thou, (she cried,) whom first inclement Fate<br/>
+Made welcome to my hospitable gate;<br/>
+With all thy wants the name of poor shall end:<br/>
+Henceforth live honour&rsquo;d, my domestic friend!<br/>
+The vest much envied on your native coast,<br/>
+And regal robe with figured gold emboss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+In happier hours my artful hand employ&rsquo;d,<br/>
+When my loved lord this blissful bower enjoy&rsquo;d:<br/>
+The fall of Troy erroneous and forlorn<br/>
+Doom&rsquo;d to survive, and never to return!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he, with pity touch&rsquo;d: &ldquo;O royal dame!<br/>
+Your ever-anxious mind, and beauteous frame,<br/>
+From the devouring rage of grief reclaim.<br/>
+I not the fondness of your soul reprove<br/>
+For such a lord! who crown&rsquo;d your virgin love<br/>
+With the dear blessing of a fair increase;<br/>
+Himself adorn&rsquo;d with more than mortal grace:<br/>
+Yet while I speak the mighty woe suspend;<br/>
+Truth forms my tale; to pleasing truth attend.<br/>
+The royal object of your dearest care<br/>
+Breathes in no distant clime the vital air:<br/>
+In rich Thesprotia, and the nearer bound<br/>
+Of Thessaly, his name I heard renown&rsquo;d:<br/>
+Without retinue, to that friendly shore<br/>
+Welcomed with gifts of price, a sumless store!<br/>
+His sacrilegious train, who dared to prey<br/>
+On herds devoted to the god of day,<br/>
+Were doom&rsquo;d by Jove, and Phœbus&rsquo; just decree,<br/>
+To perish in the rough Trinacrian sea.<br/>
+To better fate the blameless chief ordain&rsquo;d,<br/>
+A floating fragment of the wreck regain&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And rode the storm; till, by the billows toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+He landed on the fair Phæacian coast.<br/>
+That race who emulate the life of gods,<br/>
+Receive him joyous to their bless&rsquo;d abodes;<br/>
+Large gifts confer, a ready sail command,<br/>
+To speed his voyage to the Grecian strand.<br/>
+But your wise lord (in whose capacious soul<br/>
+High schemes of power in just succession roll)<br/>
+His Ithaca refused from favouring Fate,<br/>
+Till copious wealth might guard his regal state.<br/>
+Phedon the fact affirm&rsquo;d, whose sovereign sway<br/>
+Thesprotian tribes, a duteous race, obey;<br/>
+And bade the gods this added truth attest<br/>
+(While pure libations crown&rsquo;d the genial feast),<br/>
+That anchor&rsquo;d in his port the vessels stand,<br/>
+To waft the hero to his natal land.<br/>
+I for Dulichium urge the watery way,<br/>
+But first the Ulyssean wealth survey:<br/>
+So rich the value of a store so vast<br/>
+Demands the pomp of centuries to waste!<br/>
+The darling object of your royal love<br/>
+Was journey&rsquo;d thence to Dodonean Jove;<br/>
+By the sure precept of the sylvan shrine,<br/>
+To form the conduct of his great design;<br/>
+Irresolute of soul, his state to shroud<br/>
+In dark disguise, or come, a king avow&rsquo;d!<br/>
+Thus lives your lord; nor longer doom&rsquo;d to roam;<br/>
+Soon will he grace this dear paternal dome.<br/>
+By Jove, the source of good, supreme in power!<br/>
+By the bless&rsquo;d genius of this friendly bower!<br/>
+I ratify my speech, before the sun<br/>
+His annual longitude of heaven shall run;<br/>
+When the pale empress of yon starry train<br/>
+In the next month renews her faded wane,<br/>
+Ulysses will assert his rightful reign.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What thanks! what boon! (replied the queen), are due,<br/>
+When time shall prove the storied blessing true!<br/>
+My lord&rsquo;s return should fate no more retard,<br/>
+Envy shall sicken at thy vast reward.<br/>
+But my prophetic fears, alas! presage<br/>
+The wounds of Destiny&rsquo;s relentless rage.<br/>
+I long must weep, nor will Ulysses come,<br/>
+With royal gifts to send you honour&rsquo;d home!&mdash;<br/>
+Your other task, ye menial train forbear:<br/>
+Now wash the stranger, and the bed prepare:<br/>
+With splendid palls the downy fleece adorn:<br/>
+Uprising early with the purple morn.<br/>
+His sinews, shrunk with age, and stiff with toil,<br/>
+In the warm bath foment with fragrant oil.<br/>
+Then with Telemachus the social feast<br/>
+Partaking free, my soul invited guest;<br/>
+Whoe&rsquo;er neglects to pay distinction due,<br/>
+The breach of hospitable right may rue.<br/>
+The vulgar of my sex I most exceed<br/>
+In real fame, when most humane my deed;<br/>
+And vainly to the praise of queen aspire,<br/>
+If, stranger! I permit that mean attire<br/>
+Beneath the feastful bower. A narrow space<br/>
+Confines the circle of our destin&rsquo;d race;<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis ours with good the scanty round to grace.<br/>
+Those who to cruel wrong their state abuse,<br/>
+Dreaded in life the mutter&rsquo;d curse pursues;<br/>
+By death disrobed of all their savage powers,<br/>
+Then, licensed rage her hateful prey devours.<br/>
+But he whose inborn worth his acts commend,<br/>
+Of gentle soul, to human race a friend;<br/>
+The wretched he relieves diffuse his fame,<br/>
+And distant tongues extol the patron-name.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Princess? (he cried) in vain your bounties flow<br/>
+On me, confirm&rsquo;d and obstinate in woe.<br/>
+When my loved Crete received my final view,<br/>
+And from my weeping eyes her cliffs withdrew;<br/>
+These tatter&rsquo;d weeds (my decent robes resign&rsquo;d)<br/>
+I chose, the livery of a woful mind!<br/>
+Nor will my heart-corroding care abate<br/>
+With splendid palls, and canopies of state:<br/>
+Low-couch&rsquo;d on earth, the gift of sleep I scorn,<br/>
+And catch the glances of the waking morn.<br/>
+The delicacy of your courtly train<br/>
+To wash a wretched wanderer would disdain;<br/>
+But if, in tract of long experience tried,<br/>
+And sad similitude of woes allied,<br/>
+Some wretch reluctant views aërial light,<br/>
+To her mean hand assign the friendly rite.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pleased with his wise reply, the queen rejoin&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;Such gentle manners, and so sage a mind,<br/>
+In all who graced this hospitable bower<br/>
+I ne&rsquo;er discerned, before this social hour.<br/>
+Such servant as your humble choice requires,<br/>
+To light received the lord of my desires,<br/>
+New from the birth; and with a mother&rsquo;s hand<br/>
+His tender bloom to manly growth sustain&rsquo;d:<br/>
+Of matchless prudence, and a duteous mind;<br/>
+Though now to life&rsquo;s extremest verge declined,<br/>
+Of strength superior to the toil design&rsquo;d&mdash;<br/>
+Rise, Euryclea! with officious care<br/>
+For the poor friend the cleansing bath prepare:<br/>
+This debt his correspondent fortunes claim,<br/>
+Too like Ulysses, and perhaps the same!<br/>
+Thus old with woes my fancy paints him now!<br/>
+For age untimely marks the careful brow.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Instant, obsequious to the mild command,<br/>
+Sad Euryclea rose: with trembling hand<br/>
+She veils the torrent of her tearful eyes;<br/>
+And thus impassion&rsquo;d to herself replies:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Son of my love, and monarch of my cares,<br/>
+What pangs for thee this wretched bosom bears!<br/>
+Are thus by Jove who constant beg his aid<br/>
+With pious deed, and pure devotion, paid?<br/>
+He never dared defraud the sacred fane<br/>
+Of perfect hecatombs in order slain:<br/>
+There oft implored his tutelary power,<br/>
+Long to protract the sad sepulchral hour;<br/>
+That, form&rsquo;d for empire with paternal care,<br/>
+His realm might recognize an equal heir.<br/>
+O destined head! The pious vows are lost;<br/>
+His God forgets him on a foreign coast!&mdash;<br/>
+Perhaps, like thee, poor guest! in wanton pride<br/>
+The rich insult him, and the young deride!<br/>
+Conscious of worth reviled, thy generous mind<br/>
+The friendly rite of purity declined;<br/>
+My will concurring with my queen&rsquo;s command,<br/>
+Accept the bath from this obsequious hand.<br/>
+A strong emotion shakes my anguish&rsquo;d breast:<br/>
+In thy whole form Ulysses seems express&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Of all the wretched harboured on our coast,<br/>
+None imaged e&rsquo;er like thee my master lost.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus half-discover&rsquo;d through the dark disguise,<br/>
+With cool composure feign&rsquo;d, the chief replies:<br/>
+&ldquo;You join your suffrage to the public vote;<br/>
+The same you think have all beholders thought.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said: replenish&rsquo;d from the purest springs,<br/>
+The laver straight with busy care she brings:<br/>
+In the deep vase, that shone like burnish&rsquo;d gold,<br/>
+The boiling fluid temperates the cold.<br/>
+Meantime revolving in his thoughtful mind<br/>
+The scar, with which his manly knee was sign&rsquo;d;<br/>
+His face averting from the crackling blaze,<br/>
+His shoulders intercept the unfriendly rays:<br/>
+Thus cautious in the obscure he hoped to fly<br/>
+The curious search of Euryclea&rsquo;s eye.<br/>
+Cautious in vain! nor ceased the dame to find<br/>
+This scar with which his manly knee was sign&rsquo;d.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This on Parnassus (combating the boar)<br/>
+With glancing rage the tusky savage tore.<br/>
+Attended by his brave maternal race,<br/>
+His grandsire sent him to the sylvan chase,<br/>
+Autolycus the bold (a mighty name<br/>
+For spotless faith and deeds of martial fame:<br/>
+Hermes, his patron god, those gifts bestow&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Whose shrine with weanling lambs he wont to load).<br/>
+His course to Ithaca this hero sped,<br/>
+When the first product of Laertes&rsquo; bed<br/>
+Was now disclosed to birth: the banquet ends,<br/>
+When Euryclea from the queen descends,<br/>
+And to his fond embrace the babe commends:<br/>
+&ldquo;Receive (she cries) your royal daughter&rsquo;s son;<br/>
+And name the blessing that your prayers have won.&rdquo;<br/>
+Then thus the hoary chief: &ldquo;My victor arms<br/>
+Have awed the realms around with dire alarms:<br/>
+A sure memorial of my dreaded fame<br/>
+The boy shall bear; Ulysses be his name!<br/>
+And when with filial love the youth shall come<br/>
+To view his mother&rsquo;s soil, my Delphic dome<br/>
+With gifts of price shall send him joyous home.&rdquo;<br/>
+Lured with the promised boon, when youthful prime<br/>
+Ended in man, his mother&rsquo;s natal clime<br/>
+Ulysses sought; with fond affection dear<br/>
+Amphitea&rsquo;s arms received the royal heir:<br/>
+Her ancient lord an equal joy possess&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Instant he bade prepare the genial feast:<br/>
+A steer to form the sumptuous banquet bled,<br/>
+Whose stately growth five flowery summers fed:<br/>
+His sons divide, and roast with artful care<br/>
+The limbs; then all the tasteful viands share.<br/>
+Nor ceased discourse (the banquet of the soul),<br/>
+Till Phœbus wheeling to the western goal<br/>
+Resign&rsquo;d the skies, and night involved the pole.<br/>
+Their drooping eyes the slumberous shade oppress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Sated they rose, and all retired to rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Soon as the morn, new-robed in purple light,<br/>
+Pierced with her golden shafts the rear of night,<br/>
+Ulysses, and his brave maternal race,<br/>
+The young Autolyci, essay the chase.<br/>
+Parnassus, thick perplex&rsquo;d with horrid shades,<br/>
+With deep-mouth&rsquo;d hounds the hunter-troop invades;<br/>
+What time the sun, from ocean&rsquo;s peaceful stream,<br/>
+Darts o&rsquo;er the lawn his horizontal beam.<br/>
+The pack impatient snuff the tainted gale;<br/>
+The thorny wilds the woodmen fierce assail:<br/>
+And, foremost of the train, his cornel spear<br/>
+Ulysses waved, to rouse the savage war.<br/>
+Deep in the rough recesses of the wood,<br/>
+A lofty copse, the growth of ages, stood;<br/>
+Nor winter&rsquo;s boreal blast, nor thunderous shower,<br/>
+Nor solar ray, could pierce the shady bower.<br/>
+With wither&rsquo;d foliage strew&rsquo;d, a heapy store!<br/>
+The warm pavilion of a dreadful boar.<br/>
+Roused by the hounds&rsquo; and hunters&rsquo; mingling cries,<br/>
+The savage from his leafy shelter flies;<br/>
+With fiery glare his sanguine eye-balls shine,<br/>
+And bristles high impale his horrid chine.<br/>
+Young Ithacus advanced, defies the foe,<br/>
+Poising his lifted lance in act to throw;<br/>
+The savage renders vain the wound decreed,<br/>
+And springs impetuous with opponent speed!<br/>
+His tusks oblique he aim&rsquo;d, the knee to gore;<br/>
+Aslope they glanced, the sinewy fibres tore,<br/>
+And bared the bone; Ulysses undismay&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Soon with redoubled force the wound repaid;<br/>
+To the right shoulder-joint the spear applied,<br/>
+His further flank with streaming purple dyed:<br/>
+On earth he rushed with agonizing pain;<br/>
+With joy and vast surprise, the applauding train<br/>
+View&rsquo;d his enormous bulk extended on the plain.<br/>
+With bandage firm Ulysses&rsquo; knee they bound;<br/>
+Then, chanting mystic lays, the closing wound<br/>
+Of sacred melody confess&rsquo;d the force;<br/>
+The tides of life regain&rsquo;d their azure course.<br/>
+Then back they led the youth with loud acclaim;<br/>
+Autolycus, enamoured with his fame,<br/>
+Confirm&rsquo;d the cure; and from the Delphic dome<br/>
+With added gifts return&rsquo;d him glorious home.<br/>
+He safe at Ithaca with joy received,<br/>
+Relates the chase, and early praise achieved.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Deep o&rsquo;er his knee inseam&rsquo;d remain&rsquo;d the scar;<br/>
+Which noted token of the woodland war<br/>
+When Euryclea found, the ablution ceased:<br/>
+Down dropp&rsquo;d the leg, from her slack hand released;<br/>
+The mingled fluids from the base redound;<br/>
+The vase reclining floats the floor around!<br/>
+Smiles dew&rsquo;d with tears the pleasing strife express&rsquo;d<br/>
+Of grief and joy, alternate in her breast.<br/>
+Her fluttering words in melting murmurs died;<br/>
+At length abrupt&mdash;&ldquo;My son!&mdash;my king!&rdquo;&mdash;she cried.<br/>
+His neck with fond embrace infolding fast,<br/>
+Full on the queen her raptured eye she cast<br/>
+Ardent to speak the monarch safe restored:<br/>
+But, studious to conceal her royal lord,<br/>
+Minerva fix&rsquo;d her mind on views remote,<br/>
+And from the present bliss abstracts her thought.<br/>
+His hand to Euryclea&rsquo;s mouth applied,<br/>
+&ldquo;Art thou foredoom&rsquo;d my pest? (the hero cried:)<br/>
+Thy milky founts my infant lips have drain&rsquo;d;<br/>
+And have the Fates thy babbling age ordain&rsquo;d<br/>
+To violate the life thy youth sustain&rsquo;d?<br/>
+An exile have I told, with weeping eyes,<br/>
+Full twenty annual suns in distant skies;<br/>
+At length return&rsquo;d, some god inspires thy breast<br/>
+To know thy king, and here I stand confess&rsquo;d.<br/>
+This heaven-discover&rsquo;d truth to thee consign&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Reserve the treasure of thy inmost mind:<br/>
+Else, if the gods my vengeful arm sustain,<br/>
+And prostrate to my sword the suitor-train;<br/>
+With their lewd mates, thy undistinguish&rsquo;d age<br/>
+Shall bleed a victim to vindictive rage.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then thus rejoin&rsquo;d the dame, devoid of fear:<br/>
+&ldquo;What words, my son, have passed thy lips severe?<br/>
+Deep in my soul the trust shall lodge secured;<br/>
+With ribs of steel, and marble heart, immured.<br/>
+When Heaven, auspicious to thy right avow&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Shall prostrate to thy sword the suitor-crowd,<br/>
+The deeds I&rsquo;ll blazon of the menial fair;<br/>
+The lewd to death devote, the virtuous spare.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thy aid avails me not (the chief replied);<br/>
+My own experience shall their doom decide:<br/>
+A witness-judge precludes a long appeal:<br/>
+Suffice it then thy monarch to conceal.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said: obsequious, with redoubled pace,<br/>
+She to the fount conveys the exhausted vase:<br/>
+The bath renew&rsquo;d, she ends the pleasing toil<br/>
+With plenteous unction of ambrosial oil.<br/>
+Adjusting to his limbs the tatter&rsquo;d vest,<br/>
+His former seat received the stranger guest;<br/>
+Whom thus with pensive air the queen addressed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Though night, dissolving grief in grateful ease,<br/>
+Your drooping eyes with soft impression seize;<br/>
+Awhile, reluctant to her pleasing force,<br/>
+Suspend the restful hour with sweet discourse.<br/>
+The day (ne&rsquo;er brighten&rsquo;d with a beam of joy!)<br/>
+My menials, and domestic cares employ;<br/>
+And, unattended by sincere repose,<br/>
+The night assists my ever-wakeful woes;<br/>
+When nature&rsquo;s hush&rsquo;d beneath her brooding shade,<br/>
+My echoing griefs the starry vault invade.<br/>
+As when the months are clad in flowery green,<br/>
+Sad Philomel, in bowery shades unseen,<br/>
+To vernal airs attunes her varied strains;<br/>
+And Itylus sounds warbling o&rsquo;er the plains;<br/>
+Young Itylus, his parents&rsquo; darling joy!<br/>
+Whom chance misled the mother to destroy;<br/>
+Now doom&rsquo;d a wakeful bird to wail the beauteous boy.<br/>
+So in nocturnal solitude forlorn,<br/>
+A sad variety of woes I mourn!<br/>
+My mind, reflective, in a thorny maze<br/>
+Devious from care to care incessant strays.<br/>
+Now, wavering doubt succeeds to long despair;<br/>
+Shall I my virgin nuptial vow revere;<br/>
+And, joining to my son&rsquo;s my menial train,<br/>
+Partake his counsels, and assist his reign?<br/>
+Or, since, mature in manhood, he deplores<br/>
+His dome dishonour&rsquo;d, and exhausted stores;<br/>
+Shall I, reluctant! to his will accord;<br/>
+And from the peers select the noblest lord;<br/>
+So by my choice avow&rsquo;d, at length decide<br/>
+These wasteful love-debates, a mourning bride!<br/>
+A visionary thought I&rsquo;ll now relate;<br/>
+Illustrate, if you know, the shadow&rsquo;d fate:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A team of twenty geese (a snow-white train!)<br/>
+Fed near the limpid lake with golden grain,<br/>
+Amuse my pensive hours. The bird of Jove<br/>
+Fierce from his mountain-eyrie downward drove;<br/>
+Each favourite fowl he pounced with deathful sway,<br/>
+And back triumphant wing&rsquo;d his airy way.<br/>
+My pitying eyes effused a plenteous stream,<br/>
+To view their death thus imaged in a dream;<br/>
+With tender sympathy to soothe my soul,<br/>
+A troop of matrons, fancy-form&rsquo;d, condole.<br/>
+But whilst with grief and rage my bosom burn&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Sudden the tyrant of the skies returned;<br/>
+Perch&rsquo;d on the battlements he thus began<br/>
+(In form an eagle, but in voice a man):<br/>
+`O queen! no vulgar vision of the sky<br/>
+I come, prophetic of approaching joy;<br/>
+View in this plumy form thy victor-lord;<br/>
+The geese (a glutton race) by thee deplored,<br/>
+Portend the suitors fated to my sword.&rsquo;<br/>
+This said, the pleasing feather&rsquo;d omen ceased.<br/>
+When from the downy bands of sleep released,<br/>
+Fast by the limpid lake my swan-like train<br/>
+I found, insatiate of the golden grain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The vision self-explain&rsquo;d (the chief replies)<br/>
+Sincere reveals the sanction of the skies;<br/>
+Ulysses speaks his own return decreed;<br/>
+And by his sword the suitors sure to bleed.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hard is the task, and rare,&rdquo; (the queen rejoin&rsquo;d,)<br/>
+Impending destinies in dreams to find;<br/>
+Immured within the silent bower of sleep,<br/>
+Two portals firm the various phantoms keep;<br/>
+Of ivory one; whence flit, to mock the brain,<br/>
+Of winged lies a light fantastic train;<br/>
+The gate opposed pellucid valves adorn,<br/>
+And columns fair incased with polish&rsquo;d horn;<br/>
+Where images of truth for passage wait,<br/>
+With visions manifest of future fate.<br/>
+Not to this troop, I fear, that phantom soar&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Which spoke Ulysses to this realm restored;<br/>
+Delusive semblance!-but my remnant life<br/>
+Heaven shall determine in a gameful strife;<br/>
+With that famed bow Ulysses taught to bend,<br/>
+For me the rival archers shall contend.<br/>
+As on the listed field he used to place<br/>
+Six beams, opposed to six in equal space;<br/>
+Elanced afar by his unerring art,<br/>
+Sure through six circlets flew the whizzing dart.<br/>
+So, when the sun restores the purple day,<br/>
+Their strength and skill the suitors shall assay;<br/>
+To him the spousal honour is decreed,<br/>
+Who through the rings directs the feather&rsquo;d reed.<br/>
+Torn from these walls (where long the kinder powers<br/>
+With joy and pomp have wing&rsquo;d my youthful hours!)<br/>
+On this poor breast no dawn of bliss shall beam;<br/>
+The pleasure past supplies a copious theme<br/>
+For many a dreary thought, and many a doleful dream!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Propose the sportive lot (the chief replies),<br/>
+Nor dread to name yourself the bowyer&rsquo;s prize;<br/>
+Ulysses will surprise the unfinish&rsquo;d game,<br/>
+Avow&rsquo;d, and falsify the suitors&rsquo; claim.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom with grace serene the queen rejoin&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;In all thy speech what pleasing force I find!<br/>
+O&rsquo;er my suspended woe thy words prevail;<br/>
+I part reluctant from the pleasing tale,<br/>
+But Heaven, that knows what all terrestrials need,<br/>
+Repose to night, and toil to day decreed;<br/>
+Grateful vicissitudes! yet me withdrawn,<br/>
+Wakeful to weep and watch the tardy dawn<br/>
+Establish&rsquo;d use enjoins; to rest and joy<br/>
+Estranged, since dear Ulysses sail&rsquo;d to Troy!<br/>
+Meantime instructed is the menial tribe<br/>
+Your couch to fashion as yourself prescribe.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus affable, her bower the queen ascends;<br/>
+The sovereign step a beauteous train attends;<br/>
+There imaged to her soul Ulysses rose;<br/>
+Down her pale cheek new-streaming sorrow flows;<br/>
+Till soft oblivious shade Minerva spread,<br/>
+And o&rsquo;er her eyes ambrosial slumber shed.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap20"></a>BOOK XX.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+While Ulysses lies in the vestibule of the palace, he is witness to the
+disorders of the women. Minerva comforts him, and casts him asleep. At his
+waking he desires a favourable sign from Jupiter, which is granted. The feast
+of Apollo is celebrated by the people, and the suitors banquet in the palace.
+Telemachus exerts his authority amongst them; notwithstanding which, Ulysses is
+insulted by Caesippus, and the rest continue in their excesses. Strange
+prodigies are seen by Theoclymenus, the augur, who explains them to the
+destruction of the wooers.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+An ample hide devine Ulysses spread.<br/>
+And form&rsquo;d of fleecy skins his humble bed<br/>
+(The remnants of the spoil the suitor-crowd<br/>
+In festival devour&rsquo;d, and victims vow&rsquo;d).<br/>
+Then o&rsquo;er the chief, Eurynome the chaste<br/>
+With duteous care a downy carpet cast:<br/>
+With dire revenge his thoughtful bosom glows,<br/>
+And, ruminating wrath, he scorns repose.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As thus pavilion&rsquo;d in the porch he lay,<br/>
+Scenes of lewd loves his wakeful eyes survey,<br/>
+Whilst to nocturnal joys impure repair,<br/>
+With wanton glee, the prostituted fair.<br/>
+His heart with rage this new dishonour stung,<br/>
+Wavering his thoughts in dubious balance hung:<br/>
+Or instant should he quench the guilty flame<br/>
+With their own blood, and intercept the shame:<br/>
+Or to their lust indulge a last embrace,<br/>
+And let the peers consummate the disgrace<br/>
+Round his swoln heart the murmurous fury rolls,<br/>
+As o&rsquo;er her young the mother-mastiff growls,<br/>
+And bays the stranger groom: so wrath compress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Recoiling, mutter&rsquo;d thunder in his breast.<br/>
+&ldquo;Poor suffering heart! (he cried,) support the pain<br/>
+Of wounded honour, and thy rage restrain.<br/>
+Not fiercer woes thy fortitude could foil,<br/>
+When the brave partners of thy ten years&rsquo; toil<br/>
+Dire Polypheme devour&rsquo;d; I then was freed<br/>
+By patient prudence from the death decreed.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus anchor&rsquo;d safe on reason&rsquo;s peaceful coast,<br/>
+Tempests of wrath his soul no longer toss&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Restless his body rolls, to rage resign&rsquo;d<br/>
+As one who long with pale-eyed famine pined,<br/>
+The savoury cates on glowing embers cast<br/>
+Incessant turns, impatient for repast<br/>
+Ulysses so, from side to side-devolved,<br/>
+In self-debate the suitor&rsquo;s doom resolved<br/>
+When in the form of mortal nymph array&rsquo;d,<br/>
+From heaven descends the Jove-born martial maid;<br/>
+And hovering o&rsquo;er his head in view confess&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The goddess thus her favourite care address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O thou, of mortals most inured to woes!<br/>
+Why roll those eyes unfriended of repose?<br/>
+Beneath thy palace-roof forget thy care;<br/>
+Bless&rsquo;d in thy queen! bless&rsquo;d in thy blooming heir!<br/>
+Whom, to the gods when suppliant fathers bow<br/>
+They name the standard of their dearest vow.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just is thy kind reproach (the chief rejoin&rsquo;d),<br/>
+Deeds full of fate distract my various mind,<br/>
+In contemplation wrapp&rsquo;d. This hostile crew<br/>
+What single arm hath prowess to subdue?<br/>
+Or if, by Jove&rsquo;s and thy auxiliar aid,<br/>
+They&rsquo;re doom&rsquo;d to bleed; O say, celestial maid!<br/>
+Where shall Ulysses shun, or how sustain<br/>
+Nations embattled to revenge the slain?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh impotence of faith! (Minerva cries,)<br/>
+If man on frail unknowing man relies,<br/>
+Doubt you the gods? Lo, Pallas self descends,<br/>
+Inspires thy counsels, and thy toils attends.<br/>
+In me affianced, fortify thy breast,<br/>
+Though myriads leagued thy rightful claim contest<br/>
+My sure divinity shall bear the shield,<br/>
+And edge thy sword to reap the glorious field.<br/>
+Now, pay the debt to craving nature due,<br/>
+Her faded powers with balmy rest renew.&rdquo;<br/>
+She ceased, ambrosial slumbers seal his eyes;<br/>
+Her care dissolves in visionary joys<br/>
+The goddess, pleased, regains her natal skies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not so the queen; the downy bands of sleep<br/>
+By grief relax&rsquo;d she waked again to weep:<br/>
+A gloomy pause ensued of dumb despair;<br/>
+Then thus her fate invoked, with fervent prayer
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Diana! speed thy deathful ebon dart,<br/>
+And cure the pangs of this convulsive heart.<br/>
+Snatch me, ye whirlwinds! far from human race,<br/>
+Toss&rsquo;d through the void illimitable space<br/>
+Or if dismounted from the rapid cloud,<br/>
+Me with his whelming wave let Ocean shroud!<br/>
+So, Pandarus, thy hopes, three orphan fair,<br/>
+Were doom&rsquo;d to wander through the devious air;<br/>
+Thyself untimely, and thy consort died,<br/>
+But four celestials both your cares supplied.<br/>
+Venus in tender delicacy rears<br/>
+With honey, milk, and wine their infant years;<br/>
+Imperial Juno to their youth assigned<br/>
+A form majestic, and sagacious mind;<br/>
+With shapely growth Diana graced their bloom;<br/>
+And Pallas taught the texture of the loom.<br/>
+But whilst, to learn their lots in nuptial love,<br/>
+Bright Cytherea sought the bower of Jove<br/>
+(The God supreme, to whose eternal eye<br/>
+The registers of fate expanded lie);<br/>
+Wing&rsquo;d Harpies snatch the unguarded charge away,<br/>
+And to the Furies bore a grateful prey.<br/>
+Be such my lot! Or thou, Diana, speed<br/>
+Thy shaft, and send me joyful to the dead;<br/>
+To seek my lord among the warrior train,<br/>
+Ere second vows my bridal faith profane.<br/>
+When woes the waking sense alone assail,<br/>
+Whilst Night extends her soft oblivious veil,<br/>
+Of other wretches&rsquo; care the torture ends;<br/>
+No truce the warfare of my heart suspends!<br/>
+The night renews the day distracting theme,<br/>
+And airy terrors sable every dream.<br/>
+The last alone a kind illusion wrought,<br/>
+And to my bed my loved Ulysses brought,<br/>
+In manly bloom, and each majestic grace,<br/>
+As when for Troy he left my fond embrace;<br/>
+Such raptures in my beating bosom rise,<br/>
+I deem it sure a vision of the skies.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus, whilst Aurora mounts her purple throne,<br/>
+In audible laments she breathes her moan;<br/>
+The sounds assault Ulysses&rsquo; wakeful ear;<br/>
+Misjudging of the cause, a sudden fear<br/>
+Of his arrival known, the chief alarms;<br/>
+He thinks the queen is rushing to his arms.<br/>
+Upspringing from his couch, with active haste<br/>
+The fleece and carpet in the dome he placed<br/>
+(The hide, without, imbibed the morning air);<br/>
+And thus the gods invoked with ardent prayer:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Jove, and eternal thrones! with heaven to friend,<br/>
+If the long series of my woes shall end;<br/>
+Of human race now rising from repose,<br/>
+Let one a blissful omen here disclose;<br/>
+And, to confirm my faith, propitious Jove!<br/>
+Vouchsafe the sanction of a sign above.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whilst lowly thus the chief adoring bows,<br/>
+The pitying god his guardian aid avows.<br/>
+Loud from a sapphire sky his thunder sounds;<br/>
+With springing hope the hero&rsquo;s heart rebounds.<br/>
+Soon, with consummate joy to crown his prayer,<br/>
+An omen&rsquo;d voice invades his ravish&rsquo;d ear.<br/>
+Beneath a pile that close the dome adjoin&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Twelve female slaves the gift of Ceres grind;<br/>
+Task&rsquo;d for the royal board to bolt the bran<br/>
+From the pure flour (the growth and strength of man)<br/>
+Discharging to the day the labour due,<br/>
+Now early to repose the rest withdrew;<br/>
+One maid unequal to the task assign&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Still turn&rsquo;d the toilsome mill with anxious mind;<br/>
+And thus in bitterness of soul divined:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Father of gods and men, whose thunders roll<br/>
+O&rsquo;er the cerulean vault, and shake the pole:<br/>
+Whoe&rsquo;er from Heaven has gain&rsquo;d this rare ostent<br/>
+(Of granted vows a certain signal sent),<br/>
+In this blest moment of accepted prayer,<br/>
+Piteous, regard a wretch consumed with care!<br/>
+Instant, O Jove! confound the suitor-train,<br/>
+For whom o&rsquo;ertoil&rsquo;d I grind the golden grain:<br/>
+Far from this dome the lewd devourers cast,<br/>
+And be this festival decreed their last!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Big with their doom denounced in earth and sky,<br/>
+Ulysses&rsquo; heart dilates with secret joy.<br/>
+Meantime the menial train with unctious wood<br/>
+Heap&rsquo;d high the genial hearth, Vulcanian food:<br/>
+When, early dress&rsquo;d, advanced the royal heir;<br/>
+With manly grasp he waved a martial spear;<br/>
+A radiant sabre graced his purple zone,<br/>
+And on his foot the golden sandal shone.<br/>
+His steps impetuous to the portal press&rsquo;d;<br/>
+And Euryclea thus he there address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say thou to whom my youth its nurture owes,<br/>
+Was care for due refection and repose<br/>
+Bestow&rsquo;d the stranger-guest? Or waits he grieved,<br/>
+His age not honour&rsquo;d, nor his wants relieved?<br/>
+Promiscuous grace on all the queen confers<br/>
+(In woes bewilder&rsquo;d, oft the wisest errs).<br/>
+The wordy vagrant to the dole aspires,<br/>
+And modest worth with noble scorn retires.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She thus: &ldquo;O cease that ever-honour&rsquo;d name<br/>
+To blemish now: it ill deserves your blame,<br/>
+A bowl of generous wine sufficed the guest;<br/>
+In vain the queen the night refection press&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Nor would he court repose in downy state,<br/>
+Unbless&rsquo;d, abandon&rsquo;d to the rage of Fate!<br/>
+A hide beneath the portico was spread,<br/>
+And fleecy skins composed an humble bed;<br/>
+A downy carpet cast with duteous care,<br/>
+Secured him from the keen nocturnal air.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His cornel javelin poised with regal port,<br/>
+To the sage Greeks convened in Themis&rsquo; court,<br/>
+Forth-issuing from the dome the prince repair&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Two dogs of chase, a lion-hearted guard,<br/>
+Behind him sourly stalked. Without delay<br/>
+The dame divides the labour of the day;<br/>
+Thus urging to the toil the menial train;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What marks of luxury the marble stain<br/>
+Its wonted lustre let the floor regain;<br/>
+The seats with purple clothe in order due;<br/>
+And let the abstersive sponge the board renew;<br/>
+Let some refresh the vase&rsquo;s sullied mould;<br/>
+Some bid the goblets boast their native gold;<br/>
+Some to the spring, with each a jar, repair,<br/>
+And copious waters pure for bathing bear;<br/>
+Dispatch! for soon the suitors will essay<br/>
+The lunar feast-rites to the god of day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She said: with duteous haste a bevy fair<br/>
+Of twenty virgins to the spring repair;<br/>
+With varied toils the rest adorn the dome.<br/>
+Magnificent, and blithe, the suitors come.<br/>
+Some wield the sounding axe; the dodder&rsquo;d oaks<br/>
+Divide, obedient to the forceful strokes.<br/>
+Soon from the fount, with each a brimming urn<br/>
+(Eumaeus in their train), the maids return.<br/>
+Three porkers for the feast, all brawny-chined,<br/>
+He brought; the choicest of the tusky-kind;<br/>
+In lodgments first secure his care he viewed,<br/>
+Then to the king this friendly speech renew&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;Now say sincere, my guest! the suitor-train<br/>
+Still treat thy worth with lordly dull disdain;<br/>
+Or speaks their deed a bounteous mind humane?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Some pitying god (Ulysses sad replied)<br/>
+With vollied vengeance blast their towering pride!<br/>
+No conscious blush, no sense of right, restrains<br/>
+The tides of lust that swell the boiling veins;<br/>
+From vice to vice their appetites are toss&rsquo;d,<br/>
+All cheaply sated at another&rsquo;s cost!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While thus the chief his woes indignant told,<br/>
+Melanthius, master of the bearded fold,<br/>
+The goodliest goats of all the royal herd<br/>
+Spontaneous to the suitors&rsquo; feast preferr&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Two grooms assistant bore the victims bound;<br/>
+With quavering cries the vaulted roofs resound;<br/>
+And to the chief austere aloud began<br/>
+The wretch unfriendly to the race of man:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here vagrant, still? offensive to my lords!<br/>
+Blows have more energy than airy words;<br/>
+These arguments I&rsquo;ll use: nor conscious shame,<br/>
+Nor threats, thy bold intrusion will reclaim.<br/>
+On this high feast the meanest vulgar boast<br/>
+A plenteous board! Hence! seek another host!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Rejoinder to the churl the king disdain&rsquo;d,<br/>
+But shook his head, and rising wrath restrain&rsquo;d.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From Cephalenia &rsquo;cross the surgy main<br/>
+Philaetius late arrived, a faithful swain.<br/>
+A steer ungrateful to the bull&rsquo;s embrace.<br/>
+And goats he brought, the pride of all their race;<br/>
+Imported in a shallop not his own;<br/>
+The dome re-echoed to the mingl&rsquo;d moan.<br/>
+Straight to the guardian of the bristly kind<br/>
+He thus began, benevolent of mind:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What guest is he, of such majestic air?<br/>
+His lineage and paternal clime declare:<br/>
+Dim through the eclipse of fate, the rays divine<br/>
+Of sovereign state with faded splendour shine.<br/>
+If monarchs by the gods are plunged in woe,<br/>
+To what abyss are we foredoom&rsquo;d to go!&rdquo;<br/>
+Then affable he thus the chief address&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Whilst with pathetic warmth his hand he press&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Stranger, may fate a milder aspect show,<br/>
+And spin thy future with a whiter clue!<br/>
+O Jove! for ever deaf to human cries;<br/>
+The tyrant, not the father of the skies!<br/>
+Unpiteous of the race thy will began!<br/>
+The fool of fate, thy manufacture, man,<br/>
+With penury, contempt, repulse, and care,<br/>
+The galling load of life is doom&rsquo;d to bear.<br/>
+Ulysses from his state a wanderer still,<br/>
+Upbraids thy power, thy wisdom, or thy will!<br/>
+O monarch ever dear!-O man of woe!<br/>
+Fresh flow my tears, and shall for ever flow!<br/>
+Like thee, poor stranger guest, denied his home,<br/>
+Like thee: in rags obscene decreed to roam!<br/>
+Or, haply perish&rsquo;d on some distant coast,<br/>
+In stygian gloom he glides, a pensive ghost!<br/>
+Oh, grateful for the good his bounty gave,<br/>
+I&rsquo;ll grieve, till sorrow sink me to the grave!<br/>
+His kind protecting hand my youth preferr&rsquo;d,<br/>
+The regent of his Cephalenian herd;<br/>
+With vast increase beneath my care it spreads:<br/>
+A stately breed! and blackens far the meads.<br/>
+Constrain&rsquo;d, the choicest beeves I thence import,<br/>
+To cram these cormorants that crowd his court:<br/>
+Who in partition seek his realm to share;<br/>
+Nor human right nor wrath divine revere,<br/>
+Since here resolved oppressive these reside,<br/>
+Contending doubts my anxious heart divide:<br/>
+Now to some foreign clime inclined to fly,<br/>
+And with the royal herd protection buy;<br/>
+Then, happier thoughts return the nodding scale,<br/>
+Light mounts despair, alternate hopes prevail:<br/>
+In opening prospects of ideal joy,<br/>
+My king returns; the proud usurpers die.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the chief: &ldquo;In thy capacious mind<br/>
+Since daring zeal with cool debate is join&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Attend a deed already ripe in fate:<br/>
+Attest, O Jove! the truth I now relate!<br/>
+This sacred truth attest, each genial power,<br/>
+Who bless the board, and guard this friendly bower!<br/>
+Before thou quit the dome (nor long delay)<br/>
+Thy wish produced in act, with pleased survey,<br/>
+Thy wondering eyes shall view: his rightful reign<br/>
+By arms avow&rsquo;d Ulysses shall regain,<br/>
+And to the shades devote the suitor-train.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O Jove supreme! (the raptured swain replies,)<br/>
+With deeds consummate soon the promised joys!<br/>
+These aged nerves, with new-born vigour strung,<br/>
+In that blest cause should emulate the young.&rdquo;<br/>
+Assents Eumaeus to the prayer address&rsquo;d;<br/>
+And equal ardours fire his loyal breast.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meantime the suitors urge the prince&rsquo;s fate,<br/>
+And deathful arts employ the dire debate:<br/>
+When in his airy tour, the bird of Jove<br/>
+Truss&rsquo;d with his sinewy pounce a trembling dove;<br/>
+Sinister to their hope! This omen eyed<br/>
+Amphinomus, who thus presaging cried:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The gods from force and fraud the prince defend;<br/>
+O peers! the sanguinary scheme suspend:<br/>
+Your future thought let sable fate employ;<br/>
+And give the present hour to genial joy.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From council straight the assenting peerage ceased,<br/>
+And in the dome prepared the genial feast.<br/>
+Disrobed, their vests apart in order lay,<br/>
+Then all with speed succinct the victims slay:<br/>
+With sheep and shaggy goats the porkers bled,<br/>
+And the proud steer was on the marble spread.<br/>
+With fire prepared, they deal the morsels round,<br/>
+Wine, rosy-bright, the brimming goblets crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+By sage Eumaeus borne; the purple tide<br/>
+Melanthius from an ample jar supplied:<br/>
+High canisters of bread Philaetius placed;<br/>
+And eager all devour the rich repast.<br/>
+Disposed apart, Ulysses shares the treat;<br/>
+A trivet table, and ignobler seat,<br/>
+The prince appoints; but to his sire assigns<br/>
+The tasteful inwards, and nectareous wines.<br/>
+&ldquo;Partake, my guest (he cried), without control<br/>
+The social feast, and drain the cheering bowl:<br/>
+Dread not the railer&rsquo;s laugh, nor ruffian&rsquo;s rage;<br/>
+No vulgar roof protects thy honour&rsquo;d age;<br/>
+This dome a refuge to thy wrongs shall be,<br/>
+From my great sire too soon devolved to me!<br/>
+Your violence and scorn, ye suitors, cease,<br/>
+Lest arms avenge the violated peace.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Awed by the prince, so haughty, brave, and young,<br/>
+Rage gnaw&rsquo;d the lip, amazement chain&rsquo;d the tongue.<br/>
+&ldquo;Be patient, peers! (at length Antinous cries,)<br/>
+The threats of vain imperious youth despise:<br/>
+Would Jove permit the meditated blow,<br/>
+That stream of eloquence should cease to flow.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Without reply vouchsafed, Antinous ceased:<br/>
+Meanwhile the pomp of festival increased:<br/>
+By heralds rank&rsquo;d; in marshall&rsquo;d order move<br/>
+The city tribes, to pleased Apollo&rsquo;s grove:<br/>
+Beneath the verdure of which awful shade,<br/>
+The lunar hecatomb they grateful laid;<br/>
+Partook the sacred feast, and ritual honours paid.<br/>
+But the rich banquet, in the dome prepared<br/>
+(An humble sideboard set) Ulysses shared.<br/>
+Observant of the prince&rsquo;s high behest,<br/>
+His menial train attend the stranger-guest;<br/>
+Whom Pallas with unpardoning fury fired,<br/>
+By lordly pride and keen reproach inspired.<br/>
+A Samian peer, more studious than the rest<br/>
+Of vice, who teem&rsquo;d with many a dead-born jest;<br/>
+And urged, for title to a consort queen,<br/>
+Unnumber&rsquo;d acres arable and green<br/>
+(Ctesippus named); this lord Ulysses eyed,<br/>
+And thus burst out the imposthumate with pride:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The sentence I propose, ye peers, attend:<br/>
+Since due regard must wait the prince&rsquo;s friend,<br/>
+Let each a token of esteem bestow:<br/>
+This gift acquits the dear respect I owe;<br/>
+With which he nobly may discharge his seat,<br/>
+And pay the menials for a master&rsquo;s treat.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said: and of the steer before him placed,<br/>
+That sinewy fragment at Ulysses cast,<br/>
+Where to the pastern-bone, by nerves combined,<br/>
+The well-horn&rsquo;d foot indissolubly join&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Which whizzing high, the wall unseemly sign&rsquo;d.<br/>
+The chief indignant grins a ghastly smile;<br/>
+Revenge and scorn within his bosom boil:<br/>
+When thus the prince with pious rage inflamed:<br/>
+&ldquo;Had not the inglorious wound thy malice aim&rsquo;d<br/>
+Fall&rsquo;n guiltless of the mark, my certain spear<br/>
+Had made thee buy the brutal triumph dear:<br/>
+Nor should thy sire a queen his daughter boast;<br/>
+The suitor, now, had vanish&rsquo;d in a ghost:<br/>
+No more, ye lewd compeers, with lawless power<br/>
+Invade my dome, my herds and flocks devour:<br/>
+For genuine worth, of age mature to know,<br/>
+My grape shall redden, and my harvest grow<br/>
+Or, if each other&rsquo;s wrongs ye still support,<br/>
+With rapes and riot to profane my court;<br/>
+What single arm with numbers can contend?<br/>
+On me let all your lifted swords descend,<br/>
+And with my life such vile dishonours end.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A long cessation of discourse ensued,<br/>
+By gentler Agelaus thus renew&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A just reproof, ye peers! your rage restrain<br/>
+From the protected guest, and menial train:<br/>
+And, prince! to stop the source of future ill,<br/>
+Assent yourself, and gain the royal will.<br/>
+Whilst hope prevail&rsquo;d to see your sire restored,<br/>
+Of right the queen refused a second lord:<br/>
+But who so vain of faith, so blind to fate,<br/>
+To think he still survives to claim the state?<br/>
+Now press the sovereign dame with warm desire<br/>
+To wed, as wealth or worth her choice inspire:<br/>
+The lord selected to the nuptial joys<br/>
+Far hence will lead the long-contested prize:<br/>
+Whilst in paternal pomp with plenty bless&rsquo;d,<br/>
+You reign, of this imperial dome possess&rsquo;d.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sage and serene Telemachus replies:<br/>
+&ldquo;By him at whose behest the thunder flies,<br/>
+And by the name on earth I most revere,<br/>
+By great Ulysses and his woes I swear!<br/>
+(Who never must review his dear domain;<br/>
+Enroll&rsquo;d, perhaps, in Pluto&rsquo;s dreary train),<br/>
+Whene&rsquo;er her choice the royal dame avows,<br/>
+My bridal gifts shall load the future spouse:<br/>
+But from this dome my parent queen to chase!<br/>
+From me, ye gods! avert such dire disgrace.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Pallas clouds with intellectual gloom<br/>
+The suitors&rsquo; souls, insensate of their doom!<br/>
+A mirthful frenzy seized the fated crowd;<br/>
+The roofs resound with causeless laughter loud;<br/>
+Floating in gore, portentous to survey!<br/>
+In each discolour&rsquo;d vase the viands lay;<br/>
+Then down each cheek the tears spontaneous flow<br/>
+And sudden sighs precede approaching woe.<br/>
+In vision wrapp&rsquo;d, the Hyperesian seer<br/>
+Uprose, and thus divined the vengeance near:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O race to death devote! with Stygian shade<br/>
+Each destin&rsquo;d peer impending fates invade;<br/>
+With tears your wan distorted cheeks are drown&rsquo;d;<br/>
+With sanguine drops the walls are rubied round:<br/>
+Thick swarms the spacious hall with howling ghosts,<br/>
+To people Orcus, and the burning coasts!<br/>
+Nor gives the sun his golden orb to roll,<br/>
+But universal night usurps the pole!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Yet warn&rsquo;d in vain, with laughter loud elate<br/>
+The peers reproach the sure divine of Fate;<br/>
+And thus Eurymachus: &ldquo;The dotard&rsquo;s mind<br/>
+To every sense is lost, to reason blind;<br/>
+Swift from the dome conduct the slave away;<br/>
+Let him in open air behold the day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tax not (the heaven-illumined seer rejoin&rsquo;d)<br/>
+Of rage, or folly, my prophetic mind,<br/>
+No clouds of error dim the ethereal rays,<br/>
+Her equal power each faithful sense obeys.<br/>
+Unguided hence my trembling steps I bend,<br/>
+Far hence, before yon hovering deaths descend;<br/>
+Lest the ripe harvest of revenge begun,<br/>
+I share the doom ye suitors cannot shun.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This said, to sage Piraeus sped the seer,<br/>
+His honour&rsquo;d host, a welcome inmate there.<br/>
+O&rsquo;er the protracted feast the suitors sit,<br/>
+And aim to wound the prince with pointless wit:<br/>
+Cries one, with scornful leer and mimic voice,<br/>
+&ldquo;Thy charity we praise, but not thy choice;<br/>
+Why such profusion of indulgence shown<br/>
+To this poor, timorous, toil-detesting drone?<br/>
+That others feeds on planetary schemes,<br/>
+And pays his host with hideous noon-day dreams.<br/>
+But, prince! for once at least believe a friend;<br/>
+To some Sicilian mart these courtiers send,<br/>
+Where, if they yield their freight across the main,<br/>
+Dear sell the slaves! demand no greater gain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus jovial they; but nought the prince replies;<br/>
+Full on his sire he roll&rsquo;d his ardent eyes:<br/>
+Impatient straight to flesh his virgin-sword;<br/>
+From the wise chief he waits the deathful word.<br/>
+Nigh in her bright alcove, the pensive queen<br/>
+To see the circle sate, of all unseen.<br/>
+Sated at length they rise, and bid prepare<br/>
+An eve-repast, with equal cost and care:<br/>
+But vengeful Pallas, with preventing speed,<br/>
+A feast proportion&rsquo;d to their crimes decreed;<br/>
+A feast of death, the feasters doom&rsquo;d to bleed!
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap21"></a>BOOK XXI.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE BENDING OF ULYSSES&rsquo; BOW.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Penelope, to put an end to the solicitation of the suitors, proposes to marry
+the person who shall first bend the bow of Ulysses, and shoot through the
+ringlets. After their attempts have proved ineffectual, Ulysses, taking Eumaeus
+and Philaetius apart, discovers himself to them; then returning, desires leave
+to try his strength at the bow, which, though refused with indignation by the
+suitors, Penelope and Telemachus cause it to be delivered to his hands. He
+bends it immediately, and shoots through all the rings. Jupiter at the same
+instant thunders from heaven; Ulysses accepts the omen, and gives a sign to
+Telemachus, who stands ready armed at his side.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+And Pallas now, to raise the rivals&rsquo; fires,<br/>
+With her own art Penelope inspires<br/>
+Who now can bend Ulysses&rsquo; bow, and wing<br/>
+The well-aim&rsquo;d arrow through the distant ring,<br/>
+Shall end the strife, and win the imperial dame:<br/>
+But discord and black death await the game!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The prudent queen the lofty stair ascends:<br/>
+At distance due a virgin-train attends;<br/>
+A brazen key she held, the handle turn&rsquo;d,<br/>
+With steel and polish&rsquo;d elephant adorn&rsquo;d:<br/>
+Swift to the inmost room she bent her way,<br/>
+Where, safe reposed, the royal treasures lay:<br/>
+There shone high heap&rsquo;d the labour&rsquo;d brass and ore,<br/>
+And there the bow which great Ulysses bore;<br/>
+And there the quiver, where now guiltless slept<br/>
+Those winged deaths that many a matron wept.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This gift, long since when Sparta&rsquo;s shore he trod,<br/>
+On young Ulysses Iphitus bestowed:<br/>
+Beneath Orsilochus&rsquo; roof they met;<br/>
+One loss was private, one a public debt;<br/>
+Messena&rsquo;s state from Ithaca detains<br/>
+Three hundred sheep, and all the shepherd swains;<br/>
+And to the youthful prince to urge the laws,<br/>
+The king and elders trust their common cause.<br/>
+But Iphitus, employed on other cares,<br/>
+Search&rsquo;d the wide country for his wandering mares,<br/>
+And mules, the strongest of the labouring kind;<br/>
+Hapless to search; more hapless still to find!<br/>
+For journeying on to Hercules, at length<br/>
+That lawless wretch, that man of brutal strength,<br/>
+Deaf to Heaven&rsquo;s voice, the social rites transgress&rsquo;d;<br/>
+And for the beauteous mares destroy&rsquo;d his guest.<br/>
+He gave the bow; and on Ulysses&rsquo; part<br/>
+Received a pointed sword, and missile dart:<br/>
+Of luckless friendship on a foreign shore<br/>
+Their first, last pledges! for they met no more.<br/>
+The bow, bequeath&rsquo;d by this unhappy hand,<br/>
+Ulysses bore not from his native land;<br/>
+Nor in the front of battle taught to bend,<br/>
+But kept in dear memorial of his friend.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now gently winding up the fair ascent,<br/>
+By many an easy step the matron went;<br/>
+Then o&rsquo;er the pavement glides with grace divine<br/>
+(With polish&rsquo;d oak the level pavements shine);<br/>
+The folding gates a dazzling light display&rsquo;d,<br/>
+With pomp of various architrave o&rsquo;erlaid.<br/>
+The bolt, obedient to the silken string,<br/>
+Forsakes the staple as she pulls the ring;<br/>
+The wards respondent to the key turn round;<br/>
+The bars fall back; the flying valves resound;<br/>
+Loud as a bull makes hill and valley ring,<br/>
+So roar&rsquo;d the lock when it released the spring.<br/>
+She moves majestic through the wealthy room,<br/>
+Where treasured garments cast a rich perfume;<br/>
+There from the column where aloft it hung,<br/>
+Reach&rsquo;d in its splendid case, the bow unstrung;<br/>
+Across her knees she laid the well-known bow,<br/>
+And pensive sate, and tears began to flow.<br/>
+To full satiety of grief she mourns,<br/>
+Then silent to the joyous hall returns,<br/>
+To the proud suitors bears in pensive state<br/>
+The unbended bow, and arrows winged with fate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Behind, her train the polish&rsquo;d coffer brings,<br/>
+Which held the alternate brass and silver rings.<br/>
+Full in the portal the chaste queen appears,<br/>
+And with her veil conceals the coming tears:<br/>
+On either side awaits a virgin fair;<br/>
+While thus the matron, with majestic air:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Say you, when these forbidden walls inclose,<br/>
+For whom my victims bleed, my vintage flows:<br/>
+If these neglected, faded charms can move?<br/>
+Or is it but a vain pretence, you love?<br/>
+If I the prize, if me you seek to wife,<br/>
+Hear the conditions, and commence the strife.<br/>
+Who first Ulysses&rsquo; wondrous bow shall bend,<br/>
+And through twelve ringlets the fleet arrow send;<br/>
+Him will I follow, and forsake my home,<br/>
+For him forsake this loved, this wealthy dome,<br/>
+Long, long the scene of all my past delight,<br/>
+And still to last, the vision of my night!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Graceful she said, and bade Eumaeus show<br/>
+The rival peers the ringlets and the bow.<br/>
+From his full eyes the tears unbidden spring,<br/>
+Touch&rsquo;d at the dear memorials of his king.<br/>
+Philaetius too relents, but secret shed<br/>
+The tender drops. Antinous saw, and said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hence to your fields, ye rustics! hence away,<br/>
+Nor stain with grief the pleasures of the day;<br/>
+Nor to the royal heart recall in vain<br/>
+The sad remembrance of a perish&rsquo;d man.<br/>
+Enough her precious tears already flow&mdash;<br/>
+Or share the feast with due respect; or go<br/>
+To weep abroad, and leave to us the bow,<br/>
+No vulgar task! Ill suits this courtly crew<br/>
+That stubborn horn which brave Ulysses drew.<br/>
+I well remember (for I gazed him o&rsquo;er<br/>
+While yet a child), what majesty he bore!<br/>
+And still (all infant as I was) retain<br/>
+The port, the strength, the grandeur of the man.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said, but in his soul fond joys arise,<br/>
+And his proud hopes already win the prize.<br/>
+To speed the flying shaft through every ring,<br/>
+Wretch! is not thine: the arrows of the king<br/>
+Shall end those hopes, and fate is on the wing!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then thus Telemachus: &ldquo;Some god I find<br/>
+With pleasing frenzy has possess&rsquo;d my mind;<br/>
+When a loved mother threatens to depart,<br/>
+Why with this ill-timed gladness leaps my heart?<br/>
+Come then, ye suitors! and dispute a prize<br/>
+Richer than all the Achaian state supplies,<br/>
+Than all proud Argos, or Mycaena knows,<br/>
+Than all our isles or continents inclose;<br/>
+A woman matchless, and almost divine,<br/>
+Fit for the praise of every tongue but mine.<br/>
+No more excuses then, no more delay;<br/>
+Haste to the trial&mdash;Lo! I lead the way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I too may try, and if this arm can wing<br/>
+The feather&rsquo;d arrow through the destined ring,<br/>
+Then if no happier night the conquest boast,<br/>
+I shall not sorrow for a mother lost;<br/>
+But, bless&rsquo;d in her, possess those arms alone,<br/>
+Heir of my father&rsquo;s strength, as well as throne.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke; then rising, his broad sword unbound,<br/>
+And cast his purple garment on the ground.<br/>
+A trench he open&rsquo;d: in a line he placed.<br/>
+The level axes, and the points made fast<br/>
+(His perfect skill the wondering gazers eyed,<br/>
+The game as yet unseen, as yet untried).<br/>
+Then, with a manly pace, he took his stand:<br/>
+And grasp&rsquo;d the bow, and twang&rsquo;d it in his hand.<br/>
+Three times, with beating heart, he made essay:<br/>
+Three times, unequal to the task, gave way;<br/>
+A modest boldness on his cheek appear&rsquo;d:<br/>
+And thrice he hoped, and thrice again he fear&rsquo;d.<br/>
+The fourth had drawn it. The great sire with joy<br/>
+Beheld, but with a sign forbade the boy.<br/>
+His ardour straight the obedient prince suppress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And, artful, thus the suitor-train address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O lay the cause on youth yet immature!<br/>
+(For heaven forbid such weakness should endure!)<br/>
+How shall this arm, unequal to the bow,<br/>
+Retort an insult, or repel a foe?<br/>
+But you! whom Heaven with better nerves has bless&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Accept the trial, and the prize contest.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He cast the bow before him, and apart<br/>
+Against the polish&rsquo;d quiver propp&rsquo;d the dart.<br/>
+Resuming then his seat, Eupithes&rsquo; son,<br/>
+The bold Antinous, to the rest begun:<br/>
+&ldquo;From where the goblet first begins to flow,<br/>
+From right to left in order take the bow;<br/>
+And prove your several strengths.&rdquo; The princes heard<br/>
+And first Leiodes, blameless priest, appear&rsquo;d:<br/>
+The eldest born of Œnops&rsquo; noble race,<br/>
+Who next the goblet held his holy place:<br/>
+He, only he, of all the suitor throng,<br/>
+Their deeds detested, and abjured the wrong.<br/>
+With tender hands the stubborn horn he strains,<br/>
+The stubborn horn resisted all his pains!<br/>
+Already in despair he gives it o&rsquo;er:<br/>
+&ldquo;Take it who will (he cries), I strive no more,<br/>
+What numerous deaths attend this fatal bow!<br/>
+What souls and spirits shall it send below!<br/>
+Better, indeed, to die, and fairly give<br/>
+Nature her debt, than disappointed live,<br/>
+With each new sun to some new hope a prey,<br/>
+Yet still to-morrow falser than to-day.<br/>
+How long in vain Penelope we sought!<br/>
+This bow shall ease us of that idle thought,<br/>
+And send us with some humbler wife to live,<br/>
+Whom gold shall gain, or destiny shall give.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus speaking, on the floor the bow he placed<br/>
+(With rich inlay the various floor was graced):<br/>
+At distance far the feather&rsquo;d shaft he throws,<br/>
+And to the seat returns from whence he rose.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To him Antinous thus with fury said:<br/>
+&ldquo;What words ill-omen&rsquo;d from thy lips have fled?<br/>
+Thy coward-function ever is in fear!<br/>
+Those arms are dreadful which thou canst not bear,<br/>
+Why should this bow be fatal to the brave?<br/>
+Because the priest is born a peaceful slave.<br/>
+Mark then what others can.&rdquo; He ended there,<br/>
+And bade Melanthius a vast pile prepare;<br/>
+He gives it instant flame, then fast beside<br/>
+Spreads o&rsquo;er an ample board a bullock&rsquo;s hide.<br/>
+With melted lard they soak the weapon o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+Chafe every knot, and supple every pore.<br/>
+Vain all their art, and all their strength as vain;<br/>
+The bow inflexible resists their pain.<br/>
+The force of great Eurymachus alone<br/>
+And bold Antinous, yet untired, unknown:<br/>
+Those only now remain&rsquo;d; but those confess&rsquo;d<br/>
+Of all the train the mightiest and the best.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then from the hall, and from the noisy crew,<br/>
+The masters of the herd and flock withdrew.<br/>
+The king observes them, he the hall forsakes,<br/>
+And, past the limits of the court, o&rsquo;ertakes.<br/>
+Then thus with accent mild Ulysses spoke:<br/>
+&ldquo;Ye faithful guardians of the herd and flock!<br/>
+Shall I the secret of my breast conceal,<br/>
+Or (as my soul now dictates) shall I tell?<br/>
+Say, should some favouring god restore again<br/>
+The lost Ulysses to his native reign,<br/>
+How beat your hearts? what aid would you afford<br/>
+To the proud suitors, or your ancient lord?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Philaetius thus: &ldquo;O were thy word not vain!<br/>
+Would mighty Jove restore that man again!<br/>
+These aged sinews, with new vigour strung,<br/>
+In his blest cause should emulate the young.&rdquo;<br/>
+With equal vows Eumaeus too implored<br/>
+Each power above, with wishes for his lord.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He saw their secret souls, and thus began:<br/>
+&ldquo;Those vows the gods accord; behold the man!<br/>
+Your own Ulysses! twice ten years detain&rsquo;d<br/>
+By woes and wanderings from this hapless land:<br/>
+At length he comes; but comes despised, unknown,<br/>
+And finding faithful you, and you alone.<br/>
+All else have cast him from their very thought,<br/>
+E&rsquo;en in their wishes and their prayers forgot!<br/>
+Hear then, my friends: If Jove this arm succeed,<br/>
+And give yon impious revellers to bleed,<br/>
+My care shall be to bless your future lives<br/>
+With large possessions and with faithful wives;<br/>
+Fast by my palace shall your domes ascend,<br/>
+And each on young Telemachus attend,<br/>
+And each be call&rsquo;d his brother and my friend.<br/>
+To give you firmer faith, now trust your eye;<br/>
+Lo! the broad scar indented on my thigh,<br/>
+When with Autolycus&rsquo; sons, of yore,<br/>
+On Parnass&rsquo; top I chased the tusky boar.&rdquo;<br/>
+His ragged vest then drawn aside disclosed<br/>
+The sign conspicuous, and the scar exposed:<br/>
+Eager they view&rsquo;d, with joy they stood amazed<br/>
+With tearful eyes o&rsquo;er all their master gazed:<br/>
+Around his neck their longing arms they cast,<br/>
+His head, his shoulders, and his knees embraced;<br/>
+Tears followed tears; no word was in their power;<br/>
+In solemn silence fell the kindly shower.<br/>
+The king too weeps, the king too grasps their hands;<br/>
+And moveless, as a marble fountain, stands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus had their joy wept down the setting sun,<br/>
+But first the wise man ceased, and thus begun:<br/>
+&ldquo;Enough&mdash;on other cares your thought employ,<br/>
+For danger waits on all untimely joy.<br/>
+Full many foes and fierce, observe us near;<br/>
+Some may betray, and yonder walls may hear.<br/>
+Re-enter then, not all at once, but stay<br/>
+Some moments you, and let me lead the way.<br/>
+To me, neglected as I am I know<br/>
+The haughty suitors will deny the bow;<br/>
+But thou, Eumaeus, as &rsquo;tis borne away,<br/>
+Thy master&rsquo;s weapon to his hand convey.<br/>
+At every portal let some matron wait,<br/>
+And each lock fast the well-compacted gate:<br/>
+Close let them keep, whate&rsquo;er invades their ear;<br/>
+Though arms, or shouts, or dying groans they hear.<br/>
+To thy strict charge, Philaetius, we consign<br/>
+The court&rsquo;s main gate: to guard that pass be thine.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This said, he first return&rsquo;d; the faithful swains<br/>
+At distance follow, as their king ordains.<br/>
+Before the flame Eurymachus now stands,<br/>
+And turns the bow, and chafes it with his hands<br/>
+Still the tough bow unmoved. The lofty man<br/>
+Sigh&rsquo;d from his mighty soul, and thus began:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I mourn the common cause: for, oh, my friends,<br/>
+On me, on all, what grief, what shame attends!<br/>
+Not the lost nuptials can affect me more<br/>
+(For Greece has beauteous dames on every shore),<br/>
+But baffled thus! confess&rsquo;d so far below<br/>
+Ulysses&rsquo; strength, as not to bend his bow!<br/>
+How shall all ages our attempt deride!<br/>
+Our weakness scorn!&rdquo; Antinous thus replied:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not so, Eurymachus: that no man draws<br/>
+The wondrous bow, attend another cause.<br/>
+Sacred to Phœbus is the solemn day,<br/>
+Which thoughtless we in games would waste away:<br/>
+Till the next dawn this ill-timed strife forego,<br/>
+And here leave fixed the ringlets in a row.<br/>
+Now bid the sewer approach, and let us join<br/>
+In due libations, and in rites divine,<br/>
+So end our night: before the day shall spring,<br/>
+The choicest offerings let Melanthius bring:<br/>
+Let then to Phœbus&rsquo; name the fatted thighs<br/>
+Feed the rich smokes high curling to the skies.<br/>
+So shall the patron of these arts bestow<br/>
+(For his the gift) the skill to bend the bow.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They heard well pleased: the ready heralds bring<br/>
+The cleansing waters from the limpid spring:<br/>
+The goblet high with rosy wine they crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+In order circling to the peers around.<br/>
+That rite complete, uprose the thoughtful man,<br/>
+And thus his meditated scheme began:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If what I ask your noble minds approve,<br/>
+Ye peers and rivals in the royal love!<br/>
+Chief, if it hurt not great Antinous&rsquo; ear<br/>
+(Whose sage decision I with wonder hear),<br/>
+And if Eurymachus the motion please:<br/>
+Give Heaven this day and rest the bow in peace.<br/>
+To-morrow let your arms dispute the prize,<br/>
+And take it he, the favour&rsquo;d of the skies!<br/>
+But, since till then this trial you delay,<br/>
+Trust it one moment to my hands to-day:<br/>
+Fain would I prove, before your judging eyes,<br/>
+What once I was, whom wretched you despise:<br/>
+If yet this arm its ancient force retain;<br/>
+Or if my woes (a long-continued train)<br/>
+And wants and insults, make me less than man.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Rage flash&rsquo;d in lightning from the suitors&rsquo; eyes,<br/>
+Yet mixed with terror at the bold emprise.<br/>
+Antinous then: &ldquo;O miserable guest!<br/>
+Is common sense quite banish&rsquo;d from thy breast?<br/>
+Sufficed it not, within the palace placed,<br/>
+To sit distinguish&rsquo;d, with our presence graced,<br/>
+Admitted here with princes to confer,<br/>
+A man unknown, a needy wanderer?<br/>
+To copious wine this insolence we owe,<br/>
+And much thy betters wine can overthrow:<br/>
+The great Eurytion, when this frenzy stung,<br/>
+Pirithous&rsquo; roofs with frantic riot rung;<br/>
+Boundless the Centaur raged; till one and all<br/>
+The heroes rose, and dragg&rsquo;d him from the hall;<br/>
+His nose they shorten&rsquo;d, and his ears they slit,<br/>
+And sent him sober&rsquo;d home, with better wit.<br/>
+Hence with long war the double race was cursed,<br/>
+Fatal to all, but to the aggressor first.<br/>
+Such fate I prophesy our guest attends,<br/>
+If here this interdicted bow he bends:<br/>
+Nor shall these walls such insolence contain:<br/>
+The first fair wind transports him o&rsquo;er the main,<br/>
+Where Echetus to death the guilty brings<br/>
+(The worst of mortals, e&rsquo;en the worst of kings).<br/>
+Better than that, if thou approve our cheer;<br/>
+Cease the mad strife and share our bounty here.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To this the queen her just dislike express&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Tis impious, prince, to harm the stranger-guest,<br/>
+Base to insult who bears a suppliant&rsquo;s name,<br/>
+And some respect Telemachus may claim.<br/>
+What if the immortals on the man bestow<br/>
+Sufficient strength to draw the mighty bow?<br/>
+Shall I, a queen, by rival chiefs adored,<br/>
+Accept a wandering stranger for my lord?<br/>
+A hope so idle never touch&rsquo;d his brain:<br/>
+Then ease your bosoms of a fear so vain.<br/>
+Far be he banish&rsquo;d from this stately scene<br/>
+Who wrongs his princess with a thought so mean.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O fair! and wisest of so fair a kind!<br/>
+(Respectful thus Eurymachus rejoin&rsquo;d,)<br/>
+Moved by no weak surmise, but sense of shame,<br/>
+We dread the all-arraigning voice of Fame:<br/>
+We dread the censure of the meanest slave,<br/>
+The weakest woman: all can wrong the brave.<br/>
+&lsquo;Behold what wretches to the bed pretend<br/>
+Of that brave chief whose bow they could not bend!<br/>
+In came a beggar of the strolling crew,<br/>
+And did what all those princes could not do.&rsquo;<br/>
+Thus will the common voice our deed defame,<br/>
+And thus posterity upbraid our name.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the queen: &ldquo;If fame engage your views,<br/>
+Forbear those acts which infamy pursues;<br/>
+Wrong and oppression no renown can raise;<br/>
+Know, friend! that virtue is the path to praise.<br/>
+The stature of our guest, his port, his face,<br/>
+Speak him descended from no vulgar race.<br/>
+To him the bow, as he desires, convey;<br/>
+And to his hand if Phœbus give the day,<br/>
+Hence, to reward his merit, be shall bear<br/>
+A two-edged falchion and a shining spear,<br/>
+Embroider&rsquo;d sandals, a rich cloak and vest,<br/>
+A safe conveyance to his port of rest.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O royal mother! ever-honour&rsquo;d name!<br/>
+Permit me (cries Telemachus) to claim<br/>
+A son&rsquo;s just right. No Grecian prince but I<br/>
+Has power this bow to grant or to deny.<br/>
+Of all that Ithaca&rsquo;s rough hills contain,<br/>
+And all wide Elis&rsquo; courser-breeding plain,<br/>
+To me alone my father&rsquo;s arms descend;<br/>
+And mine alone they are, to give or lend.<br/>
+Retire, O queen! thy household task resume,<br/>
+Tend, with thy maids, the labours of thy loom;<br/>
+The bow, the darts, and arms of chivalry,<br/>
+These cares to man belong, and most to me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mature beyond his years, the queen admired<br/>
+His sage reply, and with her train retired;<br/>
+There in her chamber as she sate apart,<br/>
+Revolved his words, and placed them in her heart.<br/>
+On her Ulysses then she fix&rsquo;d her soul;<br/>
+Down her fair cheek the tears abundant roll,<br/>
+Till gentle Pallas, piteous of her cries,<br/>
+In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now through the press the bow Eumaeus bore,<br/>
+And all was riot, noise, and wild uproar.<br/>
+&ldquo;Hold! lawless rustic! whither wilt thou go?<br/>
+To whom, insensate, dost thou bear the bow?<br/>
+Exiled for this to some sequester&rsquo;d den,<br/>
+Far from the sweet society of men,<br/>
+To thy own dogs a prey thou shalt be made;<br/>
+If Heaven and Phœbus lend the suitors aid.&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus they. Aghast he laid the weapon down,<br/>
+But bold Telemachus thus urged him on:<br/>
+&ldquo;Proceed, false slave, and slight their empty words:<br/>
+What! hopes the fool to please so many lords?<br/>
+Young as I am, thy prince&rsquo;s vengeful hand<br/>
+Stretch&rsquo;d forth in wrath shall drive thee from the land.<br/>
+Oh! could the vigour of this arm as well<br/>
+The oppressive suitors from my walls expel!<br/>
+Then what a shoal of lawless men should go<br/>
+To fill with tumult the dark courts below!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The suitors with a scornful smile survey<br/>
+The youth, indulging in the genial day.<br/>
+Eumaeus, thus encouraged, hastes to bring<br/>
+The strifeful bow and gives it to the king.<br/>
+Old Euryclea calling then aside,<br/>
+&ldquo;Hear what Telemachus enjoins (he cried):<br/>
+At every portal let some matron wait,<br/>
+And each lock fast the well-compacted gate;<br/>
+And if unusual sounds invade their ear,<br/>
+If arms, or shouts, or dying groans they hear,<br/>
+Let none to call or issue forth presume,<br/>
+But close attend the labours of the loom.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her prompt obedience on his order waits;<br/>
+Closed in an instant were the palace gates.<br/>
+In the same moment forth Philaetius flies,<br/>
+Secures the court, and with a cable ties<br/>
+The utmost gate (the cable strongly wrought<br/>
+Of Byblos&rsquo; reed, a ship from Egypt brought);<br/>
+Then unperceived and silent at the board<br/>
+His seat he takes, his eyes upon his lord.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now his well-known bow the master bore,<br/>
+Turn&rsquo;d on all sides, and view&rsquo;d it o&rsquo;er and o&rsquo;er;<br/>
+Lest time or worms had done the weapon wrong,<br/>
+Its owner absent, and untried so long.<br/>
+While some deriding&mdash;&ldquo;How he turns the bow!<br/>
+Some other like it sure the man must know,<br/>
+Or else would copy; or in bows he deals;<br/>
+Perhaps he makes them, or perhaps he steals.&rdquo;<br/>
+&ldquo;Heaven to this wretch (another cried) be kind!<br/>
+And bless, in all to which he stands inclined.<br/>
+With such good fortune as he now shall find.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Heedless he heard them: but disdain&rsquo;d reply;<br/>
+The bow perusing with exactest eye.<br/>
+Then, as some heavenly minstrel, taught to sing<br/>
+High notes responsive to the trembling string,<br/>
+To some new strain when he adapts the lyre,<br/>
+Or the dumb lute refits with vocal wire,<br/>
+Relaxes, strains, and draws them to and fro;<br/>
+So the great master drew the mighty bow,<br/>
+And drew with ease. One hand aloft display&rsquo;d<br/>
+The bending horns, and one the string essay&rsquo;d.<br/>
+From his essaying hand the string, let fly,<br/>
+Twang&rsquo;d short and sharp like the shrill swallow&rsquo;s cry.<br/>
+A general horror ran through all the race,<br/>
+Sunk was each heart, and pale was every face,<br/>
+Signs from above ensued: the unfolding sky<br/>
+In lightning burst; Jove thunder&rsquo;d from on high.<br/>
+Fired at the call of heaven&rsquo;s almighty Lord,<br/>
+He snatch&rsquo;d the shaft that glitter&rsquo;d on the board<br/>
+(Fast by, the rest lay sleeping in the sheath,<br/>
+But soon to fly the messengers of death).
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now sitting as he was, the cord he drew,<br/>
+Through every ringlet levelling his view:<br/>
+Then notch&rsquo;d the shaft, released, and gave it wing;<br/>
+The whizzing arrow vanished from the string,<br/>
+Sung on direct, and threaded every ring.<br/>
+The solid gate its fury scarcely bounds;<br/>
+Pierced through and through the solid gate resounds,<br/>
+Then to the prince: &ldquo;Nor have I wrought thee shame;<br/>
+Nor err&rsquo;d this hand unfaithful to its aim;<br/>
+Nor prov&rsquo;d the toil too hard; nor have I lost<br/>
+That ancient vigour, once my pride and boast.<br/>
+Ill I deserved these haughty peers&rsquo; disdain;<br/>
+Now let them comfort their dejected train,<br/>
+In sweet repast their present hour employ,<br/>
+Nor wait till evening for the genial joy:<br/>
+Then to the lute&rsquo;s soft voice prolong the night;<br/>
+Music, the banquet&rsquo;s most refined delight.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said, then gave a nod; and at the word<br/>
+Telemachus girds on his shining sword.<br/>
+Fast by his father&rsquo;s side he takes his stand:<br/>
+The beamy javelin lightens in his hand.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap22"></a>BOOK XXII.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.<br/>
+THE DEATH OF THE SUITORS.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Ulysses begins the slaughter of the suitors by the death of Antinous. He
+declares himself, and lets fly his arrows at the rest. Telemachus assists and
+brings arms for his father, himself, Eumaeus, and Philaetius. Melanthius does
+the same for the wooers. Minerva encourages Ulysses in the shape of Mentor. The
+suitors are all slain, only Medon and Phemius are spared. Melanthius and the
+unfaithful servants are executed. The rest acknowledge their master with all
+demonstrations of joy.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Then fierce the hero o&rsquo;er the threshold strode;<br/>
+Stripp&rsquo;d of his rags, he blazed out like a god.<br/>
+Full in their face the lifted bow he bore,<br/>
+And quiver&rsquo;d deaths, a formidable store;<br/>
+Before his feet the rattling shower he threw,<br/>
+And thus, terrific, to the suitor-crew:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;One venturous game this hand hath won to-day,<br/>
+Another, princes! yet remains to play;<br/>
+Another mark our arrow must attain.<br/>
+Phœbus, assist! nor be the labour vain.&rdquo;<br/>
+Swift as the word the parting arrow sings,<br/>
+And bears thy fate, Antinous, on its wings:<br/>
+Wretch that he was, of unprophetic soul!<br/>
+High in his hands he rear&rsquo;d the golden bowl!<br/>
+E&rsquo;en then to drain it lengthen&rsquo;d out his breath;<br/>
+Changed to the deep, the bitter draught of death:<br/>
+For fate who fear&rsquo;d amidst a feastful band?<br/>
+And fate to numbers, by a single hand?<br/>
+Full through his throat Ulysses&rsquo; weapon pass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And pierced his neck. He falls, and breathes his last.<br/>
+The tumbling goblet the wide floor o&rsquo;erflows,<br/>
+A stream of gore burst spouting from his nose;<br/>
+Grim in convulsive agonies be sprawls:<br/>
+Before him spurn&rsquo;d the loaded table falls,<br/>
+And spreads the pavement with a mingled flood<br/>
+Of floating meats, and wine, and human blood.<br/>
+Amazed, confounded, as they saw him fall,<br/>
+Up rose the throngs tumultuous round the hall:<br/>
+O&rsquo;er all the dome they cast a haggard eye,<br/>
+Each look&rsquo;d for arms&mdash;in vain; no arms were nigh:<br/>
+&ldquo;Aim&rsquo;st thou at princes? (all amazed they said;)<br/>
+Thy last of games unhappy hast thou play&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Thy erring shaft has made our bravest bleed,<br/>
+And death, unlucky guest, attends thy deed.<br/>
+Vultures shall tear thee.&rdquo; Thus incensed they spoke,<br/>
+While each to chance ascribed the wondrous stroke:<br/>
+Blind as they were: for death e&rsquo;en now invades<br/>
+His destined prey, and wraps them all in shades.<br/>
+Then, grimly frowning, with a dreadful look,<br/>
+That wither&rsquo;d all their hearts, Ulysses spoke:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dogs, ye have had your day! ye fear&rsquo;d no more<br/>
+Ulysses vengeful from the Trojan shore;<br/>
+While, to your lust and spoil a guardless prey,<br/>
+Our house, our wealth, our helpless handmaids lay:<br/>
+Not so content, with bolder frenzy fired,<br/>
+E&rsquo;en to our bed presumptuous you aspired:<br/>
+Laws or divine or human fail&rsquo;d to move,<br/>
+Or shame of men, or dread of gods above;<br/>
+Heedless alike of infamy or praise,<br/>
+Or Fame&rsquo;s eternal voice in future days;<br/>
+The hour of vengeance, wretches, now is come;<br/>
+Impending fate is yours, and instant doom.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus dreadful he. Confused the suitors stood,<br/>
+From their pale cheeks recedes the flying blood:<br/>
+Trembling they sought their guilty heads to hide.<br/>
+Alone the bold Eurymachus replied:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If, as thy words import (he thus began),<br/>
+Ulysses lives, and thou the mighty man,<br/>
+Great are thy wrongs, and much hast thou sustain&rsquo;d<br/>
+In thy spoil&rsquo;d palace, and exhausted land;<br/>
+The cause and author of those guilty deeds,<br/>
+Lo! at thy feet unjust Antinous bleeds<br/>
+Not love, but wild ambition was his guide;<br/>
+To slay thy son, thy kingdom to divide,<br/>
+These were his aims; but juster Jove denied.<br/>
+Since cold in death the offender lies, oh spare<br/>
+Thy suppliant people, and receive their prayer!<br/>
+Brass, gold, and treasures, shall the spoil defray,<br/>
+Two hundred oxen every prince shall pay:<br/>
+The waste of years refunded in a day.<br/>
+Till then thy wrath is just.&rdquo; Ulysses burn&rsquo;d<br/>
+With high disdain, and sternly thus return&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;All, all the treasure that enrich&rsquo;d our throne<br/>
+Before your rapines, join&rsquo;d with all your own,<br/>
+If offer&rsquo;d, vainly should for mercy call;<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis you that offer, and I scorn them all;<br/>
+Your blood is my demand, your lives the prize,<br/>
+Till pale as yonder wretch each suitor lies.<br/>
+Hence with those coward terms; or fight or fly;<br/>
+This choice is left you, to resist or die:<br/>
+And die I trust ye shall.&rdquo; He sternly spoke:<br/>
+With guilty fears the pale assembly shook.<br/>
+Alone Eurymachus exhorts the train:<br/>
+&ldquo;Yon archer, comrades, will not shoot in vain;<br/>
+But from the threshold shall his darts be sped,<br/>
+(Whoe&rsquo;er he be), till every prince lie dead?<br/>
+Be mindful of yourselves, draw forth your swords,<br/>
+And to his shafts obtend these ample boards<br/>
+(So need compels). Then, all united, strive<br/>
+The bold invader from his post to drive:<br/>
+The city roused shall to our rescue haste,<br/>
+And this mad archer soon have shot his last.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Swift as he spoke, he drew his traitor sword,<br/>
+And like a lion rush&rsquo;d against his lord:<br/>
+The wary chief the rushing foe repress&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Who met the point and forced it in his breast:<br/>
+His falling hand deserts the lifted sword,<br/>
+And prone he falls extended o&rsquo;er the board!<br/>
+Before him wide, in mix&rsquo;d effusion roll<br/>
+The untasted viands, and the jovial bowl.<br/>
+Full through his liver pass&rsquo;d the mortal wound,<br/>
+With dying rage his forehead beats the ground;<br/>
+He spurn&rsquo;d the seat with fury as he fell,<br/>
+And the fierce soul to darkness dived, and hell.<br/>
+Next bold Amphinomus his arm extends<br/>
+To force the pass; the godlike man defends.<br/>
+Thy spear, Telemachus, prevents the attack,<br/>
+The brazen weapon driving through his back.<br/>
+Thence through his breast its bloody passage tore;<br/>
+Flat falls he thundering on the marble floor,<br/>
+And his crush&rsquo;d forehead marks the stone with gore.<br/>
+He left his javelin in the dead, for fear<br/>
+The long encumbrance of the weighty spear<br/>
+To the fierce foe advantage might afford,<br/>
+To rush between and use the shorten&rsquo;d sword.<br/>
+With speedy ardour to his sire he flies,<br/>
+And, &ldquo;Arm, great father! arm (in haste he cries).<br/>
+Lo, hence I run for other arms to wield,<br/>
+For missive javelins, and for helm and shield;<br/>
+Fast by our side let either faithful swain<br/>
+In arms attend us, and their part sustain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Haste, and return (Ulysses made reply)<br/>
+While yet the auxiliar shafts this hand supply;<br/>
+Lest thus alone, encounter&rsquo;d by an host,<br/>
+Driven from the gate, the important pass be lost.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With speed Telemachus obeys, and flies<br/>
+Where piled in heaps the royal armour lies;<br/>
+Four brazen helmets, eight refulgent spears,<br/>
+And four broad bucklers to his sire he bears:<br/>
+At once in brazen panoply they shone.<br/>
+At once each servant braced his armour on;<br/>
+Around their king a faithful guard they stand.<br/>
+While yet each shaft flew deathful from his hand:<br/>
+Chief after chief expired at every wound,<br/>
+And swell&rsquo;d the bleeding mountain on the ground.<br/>
+Soon as his store of flying fates was spent.<br/>
+Against the wall he set the bow unbent;<br/>
+And now his shoulders bear the massy shield,<br/>
+And now his hands two beamy javelins wield:<br/>
+He frowns beneath his nodding plume, that play&rsquo;d<br/>
+O&rsquo;er the high crest, and cast a dreadful shade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There stood a window near, whence looking down<br/>
+From o&rsquo;er the porch appear&rsquo;d the subject town.<br/>
+A double strength of valves secured the place,<br/>
+A high and narrow, but the only pass:<br/>
+The cautious king, with all-preventing care,<br/>
+To guard that outlet, placed Eumaeus there;<br/>
+When Agelaus thus: &ldquo;Has none the sense<br/>
+To mount yon window, and alarm from thence<br/>
+The neighbour-town? the town shall force the door,<br/>
+And this bold archer soon shall shoot no more.&rdquo;<br/>
+Melanthius then: &ldquo;That outlet to the gate<br/>
+So near adjoins, that one may guard the strait.<br/>
+But other methods of defence remain;<br/>
+Myself with arms can furnish all the train;<br/>
+Stores from the royal magazine I bring,<br/>
+And their own darts shall pierce the prince and king.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said; and mounting up the lofty stairs,<br/>
+Twelve shields, twelve lances, and twelve helmets bears:<br/>
+All arm, and sudden round the hall appears<br/>
+A blaze of bucklers, and a wood of spears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The hero stands oppress&rsquo;d with mighty woe,<br/>
+On every side he sees the labour grow;<br/>
+&ldquo;Oh cursed event! and oh unlook&rsquo;d for aid!<br/>
+Melanthius or the women have betray&rsquo;d&mdash;<br/>
+Oh my dear son!&rdquo;&mdash;The father with a sigh<br/>
+Then ceased; the filial virtue made reply;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Falsehood is folly, and &rsquo;tis just to own<br/>
+The fault committed: this was mine alone;<br/>
+My haste neglected yonder door to bar,<br/>
+And hence the villain has supplied their war.<br/>
+Run, good Eumaeus, then, and (what before<br/>
+I thoughtless err&rsquo;d in) well secure that door:<br/>
+Learn, if by female fraud this deed were done,<br/>
+Or (as my thought misgives) by Dolius&rsquo; son.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While yet they spoke, in quest of arms again<br/>
+To the high chamber stole the faithless swain,<br/>
+Not unobserved. Eumaeus watchful eyed,<br/>
+And thus address&rsquo;d Ulysses near his side:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The miscreant we suspected takes that way;<br/>
+Him, if this arm be powerful, shall I slay?<br/>
+Or drive him hither, to receive the meed<br/>
+From thy own hand, of this detested deed?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Not so (replied Ulysses); leave him there,<br/>
+For us sufficient is another care;<br/>
+Within the structure of this palace wall<br/>
+To keep enclosed his masters till they fall.<br/>
+Go you, and seize the felon; backward bind<br/>
+His arms and legs, and fix a plank behind:<br/>
+On this his body by strong cords extend,<br/>
+And on a column near the roof suspend:<br/>
+So studied tortures his vile days shall end.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ready swains obey&rsquo;d with joyful haste,<br/>
+Behind the felon unperceived they pass&rsquo;d,<br/>
+As round the room in quest of arms he goes<br/>
+(The half-shut door conceal&rsquo;d his lurking foes):<br/>
+One hand sustain&rsquo;d a helm, and one the shield<br/>
+Which old Laertes wont in youth to wield,<br/>
+Cover&rsquo;d with dust, with dryness chapp&rsquo;d and worn,<br/>
+The brass corroded, and the leather torn.<br/>
+Thus laden, o&rsquo;er the threshold as he stepp&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Fierce on the villain from each side they leap&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Back by the hair the trembling dastard drew,<br/>
+And down reluctant on the pavement threw.<br/>
+Active and pleased the zealous swains fulfil<br/>
+At every point their master&rsquo;s rigid will;<br/>
+First, fast behind, his hands and feet they bound,<br/>
+Then straighten&rsquo;d cords involved his body round;<br/>
+So drawn aloft, athwart the column tied,<br/>
+The howling felon swung from side to side.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Eumaeus scoffing then with keen disdain:<br/>
+&ldquo;There pass thy pleasing night, O gentle swain!<br/>
+On that soft pillow, from that envied height,<br/>
+First may&rsquo;st thou see the springing dawn of light;<br/>
+So timely rise, when morning streaks the east,<br/>
+To drive thy victims to the suitors&rsquo; feast.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This said, they, left him, tortured as he lay,<br/>
+Secured the door, and hasty strode away:<br/>
+Each, breathing death, resumed his dangerous post<br/>
+Near great Ulysses; four against an host,<br/>
+When lo! descending to her hero&rsquo;s aid,<br/>
+Jove&rsquo;s daughter, Pallas, War&rsquo;s triumphant maid:<br/>
+In Mentor&rsquo;s friendly form she join&rsquo;d his side:<br/>
+Ulysses saw, and thus with transport cried:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, ever welcome, and thy succour lend;<br/>
+O every sacred name in one, my friend!<br/>
+Early we loved, and long our loves have grown;<br/>
+Whate&rsquo;er through life&rsquo;s whole series I have done,<br/>
+Or good, or grateful, now to mind recall,<br/>
+And, aiding this one hour, repay it all.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus he; but pleasing hopes his bosom warm<br/>
+Of Pallas latent in the friendly form.<br/>
+The adverse host the phantom-warrior eyed,<br/>
+And first, loud-threatening, Agelaus cried:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mentor, beware, nor let that tongue persuade<br/>
+Thy frantic arm to lend Ulysses aid;<br/>
+Our force successful shall our threat make good,<br/>
+And with the sire and son commix thy blood.<br/>
+What hopest thou here? Thee first the sword shall slay,<br/>
+Then lop thy whole posterity away;<br/>
+Far hence thy banish&rsquo;d consort shall we send;<br/>
+With his thy forfeit lands and treasures blend;<br/>
+Thus, and thus only, shalt thou join thy friend.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His barbarous insult even the goddess fires,<br/>
+Who thus the warrior to revenge inspires:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Art thou Ulysses? where then shall we find<br/>
+The patient body and the constant mind?<br/>
+That courage, once the Trojans&rsquo; daily dread,<br/>
+Known nine long years, and felt by heroes dead?<br/>
+And where that conduct, which revenged the lust<br/>
+Of Priam&rsquo;s race, and laid proud Troy in dust?<br/>
+If this, when Helen was the cause, were done;<br/>
+What for thy country now, thy queen, thy son?<br/>
+Rise then in combat, at my side attend;<br/>
+Observe what vigour gratitude can lend,<br/>
+And foes how weak, opposed against a friend!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She spoke; but willing longer to survey<br/>
+The sire and son&rsquo;s great acts withheld the day!<br/>
+By farther toils decreed the brave to try,<br/>
+And level poised the wings of victory;<br/>
+Then with a change of form eludes their sight,<br/>
+Perch&rsquo;d like a swallow on a rafter&rsquo;s height,<br/>
+And unperceived enjoys the rising fight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Damastor&rsquo;s son, bold Agelaus, leads,<br/>
+The guilty war, Eurynomus succeeds;<br/>
+With these, Pisander, great Polyctor&rsquo;s son,<br/>
+Sage Polybus, and stern Amphimedon,<br/>
+With Demoptolemus: these six survive:<br/>
+The best of all the shafts had left alive.<br/>
+Amidst the carnage, desperate as they stand,<br/>
+Thus Agelaus roused the lagging band:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The hour has come, when yon fierce man no more<br/>
+With bleeding princes shall bestrew the floor;<br/>
+Lo! Mentor leaves him with an empty boast;<br/>
+The four remain, but four against an host.<br/>
+Let each at once discharge the deadly dart,<br/>
+One sure of six shall reach Ulysses&rsquo; heart:<br/>
+The rest must perish, their great leader slain:<br/>
+Thus shall one stroke the glory lost regain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then all at once their mingled lances threw,<br/>
+And thirsty all of one man&rsquo;s blood they flew;<br/>
+In vain! Minerva turned them with her breath,<br/>
+And scattered short, or wide, the points of death!<br/>
+With deaden&rsquo;d sound one on the threshold falls,<br/>
+One strikes the gate, one rings against the walls:<br/>
+The storm passed innocent. The godlike man<br/>
+Now loftier trod, and dreadful thus began:<br/>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Tis now (brave friends) our turn, at once to throw,<br/>
+(So speed them Heaven) our javelins at the foe.<br/>
+That impious race to all their past misdeeds<br/>
+Would add our blood, injustice still proceeds.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke: at once their fiery lances flew:<br/>
+Great Demoptolemus Ulysses slew;<br/>
+Euryades received the prince&rsquo;s dart;<br/>
+The goatherd&rsquo;s quiver&rsquo;d in Pisander&rsquo;s heart;<br/>
+Fierce Elatus by thine, Eumaeus, falls;<br/>
+Their fall in thunder echoes round the walls.<br/>
+The rest retreat: the victors now advance,<br/>
+Each from the dead resumes his bloody lance.<br/>
+Again the foe discharge the steely shower;<br/>
+Again made frustrate by the virgin-power.<br/>
+Some, turn&rsquo;d by Pallas, on the threshold fall,<br/>
+Some wound the gate, some ring against the wall;<br/>
+Some weak, or ponderous with the brazen head,<br/>
+Drop harmless on the pavement, sounding dead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then bold Amphimedon his javelin cast:<br/>
+Thy hand, Telemachus, it lightly razed:<br/>
+And from Ctesippus&rsquo; arm the spear elanced:<br/>
+On good Eumaeus&rsquo; shield and shoulder glanced;<br/>
+Not lessened of their force (so light the wound)<br/>
+Each sung along and dropped upon the ground.<br/>
+Fate doom&rsquo;d thee next, Eurydamus, to bear,<br/>
+Thy death ennobled by Ulysses&rsquo; spear.<br/>
+By the bold son Amphimedon was slain,<br/>
+And Polybus renown&rsquo;d, the faithful swain.<br/>
+Pierced through the breast the rude Ctesippus bled,<br/>
+And thus Philaetius gloried o&rsquo;er the dead:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There end thy pompous vaunts and high disdain;<br/>
+O sharp in scandal, voluble and vain!<br/>
+How weak is mortal pride! To Heaven alone<br/>
+The event of actions and our fates are known:<br/>
+Scoffer, behold what gratitude we bear:<br/>
+The victim&rsquo;s heel is answered with this spear.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ulysses brandish&rsquo;d high his vengeful steel,<br/>
+And Damastorides that instant fell:<br/>
+Fast by Leocritus expiring lay,<br/>
+The prince&rsquo;s javelin tore its bloody way<br/>
+Through all his bowels: down he tumbled prone,<br/>
+His batter&rsquo;d front and brains besmear the stone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now Pallas shines confess&rsquo;d; aloft she spreads<br/>
+The arm of vengeance o&rsquo;er their guilty heads:<br/>
+The dreadful aegis blazes in their eye:<br/>
+Amazed they see, they tremble, and they fly:<br/>
+Confused, distracted, through the rooms they fling:<br/>
+Like oxen madden&rsquo;d by the breeze&rsquo;s sting,<br/>
+When sultry days, and long, succeed the gentle spring,<br/>
+Not half so keen fierce vultures of the chase<br/>
+Stoop from the mountains on the feather&rsquo;d race,<br/>
+When, the wide field extended snares beset,<br/>
+With conscious dread they shun the quivering net:<br/>
+No help, no flight; but wounded every way,<br/>
+Headlong they drop; the fowlers seize their prey.<br/>
+On all sides thus they double wound on wound,<br/>
+In prostrate heaps the wretches beat the ground,<br/>
+Unmanly shrieks precede each dying groan,<br/>
+And a red deluge floats the reeking stone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Leiodes first before the victor falls:<br/>
+The wretched augur thus for mercy calls:<br/>
+&ldquo;Oh gracious hear, nor let thy suppliant bleed;<br/>
+Still undishonoured, or by word or deed,<br/>
+Thy house, for me remains; by me repress&rsquo;d<br/>
+Full oft was check&rsquo;d the injustice of the rest:<br/>
+Averse they heard me when I counselled well,<br/>
+Their hearts were harden&rsquo;d, and they justly fell.<br/>
+O spare an augur&rsquo;s consecrated head,<br/>
+Nor add the blameless to the guilty dead.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Priest as thou art! for that detested band<br/>
+Thy lying prophecies deceived the land;<br/>
+Against Ulysses have thy vows been made,<br/>
+For them thy daily orisons were paid:<br/>
+Yet more, e&rsquo;en to our bed thy pride aspires:<br/>
+One common crime one common fate requires.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus speaking, from the ground the sword he took<br/>
+Which Agelaus&rsquo; dying hand forsook:<br/>
+Full through his neck the weighty falchion sped;<br/>
+Along the pavement roll&rsquo;d the muttering head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Phemius alone the hand of vengeance spared,<br/>
+Phemius the sweet, the heaven-instructed bard.<br/>
+Beside the gate the reverend minstrel stands;<br/>
+The lyre now silent trembling in his hands;<br/>
+Dubious to supplicate the chief, or fly<br/>
+To Jove&rsquo;s inviolable altar nigh,<br/>
+Where oft Laertes holy vows had paid,<br/>
+And oft Ulysses smoking victims laid.<br/>
+His honour&rsquo;d harp with care he first set down,<br/>
+Between the laver and the silver throne;<br/>
+Then prostrate stretch&rsquo;d before the dreadful man,<br/>
+Persuasive thus, with accent soft began:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O king! to mercy be thy soul inclined,<br/>
+And spare the poet&rsquo;s ever-gentle kind.<br/>
+A deed like this thy future fame would wrong,<br/>
+For dear to gods and men is sacred song.<br/>
+Self-taught I sing; by Heaven, and Heaven alone,<br/>
+The genuine seeds of poesy are sown:<br/>
+And (what the gods bestow) the lofty lay<br/>
+To gods alone and godlike worth we pay.<br/>
+Save then the poet, and thyself reward!<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis thine to merit, mine is to record.<br/>
+That here I sung, was force, and not desire;<br/>
+This hand reluctant touch&rsquo;d the warbling wire;<br/>
+And let thy son attest, nor sordid pay,<br/>
+Nor servile flattery, stain&rsquo;d the moral lay.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The moving words Telemachus attends,<br/>
+His sire approaches, and the bard defends.<br/>
+&ldquo;O mix not, father, with those impious dead<br/>
+The man divine! forbear that sacred head;<br/>
+Medon, the herald, too, our arms may spare,<br/>
+Medon, who made my infancy his care;<br/>
+If yet he breathes, permit thy son to give<br/>
+Thus much to gratitude, and bid him live.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Beneath a table, trembling with dismay,<br/>
+Couch&rsquo;d close to earth, unhappy Medon lay,<br/>
+Wrapp&rsquo;d in a new-slain ox&rsquo;s ample hide;<br/>
+Swift at the word he cast his screen aside,<br/>
+Sprung to the prince, embraced his knee with tears,<br/>
+And thus with grateful voice address&rsquo;d his ears
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O prince! O friend! lo, here thy Medon stands<br/>
+Ah stop the hero&rsquo;s unresisted hands,<br/>
+Incensed too justly by that impious brood,<br/>
+Whose guilty glories now are set in blood.&rdquo;<br/>
+To whom Ulysses with a pleasing eye:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be bold, on friendship and my son rely;<br/>
+Live, an example for the world to read,<br/>
+How much more safe the good than evil deed:<br/>
+Thou, with the heaven-taught bard, in peace resort<br/>
+From blood and carnage to yon open court:<br/>
+Me other work requires.&rdquo; With timorous awe<br/>
+From the dire scene the exempted two withdraw,<br/>
+Scarce sure of life, look round, and trembling move<br/>
+To the bright altars of Protector Jove.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile Ulysses search&rsquo;d the dome, to find<br/>
+If yet there live of all the offending kind.<br/>
+Not one! complete the bloody tale he found,<br/>
+All steep&rsquo;d in blood, all gasping on the ground.<br/>
+So, when by hollow shores the fisher-train<br/>
+Sweep with their arching nets the roaring main,<br/>
+And scarce the meshy toils the copious draught contain,<br/>
+All naked of their element, and bare,<br/>
+The fishes pant, and gasp in thinner air;<br/>
+Wide o&rsquo;er the sands are spread the stiffening prey,<br/>
+Till the warm sun exhales their soul away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now the king commands his son to call<br/>
+Old Euryclea to the deathful hall:<br/>
+The son observant not a moment stays;<br/>
+The aged governess with speed obeys;<br/>
+The sounding portals instant they display;<br/>
+The matron moves, the prince directs the way.<br/>
+On heaps of death the stern Ulysses stood,<br/>
+All black with dust, and cover&rsquo;d thick with blood.<br/>
+So the grim lion from the slaughter comes,<br/>
+Dreadful he glares, and terribly he foams,<br/>
+His breast with marks of carnage painted o&rsquo;er,<br/>
+His jaws all dropping with the bull&rsquo;s black gore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Soon as her eyes the welcome object met,<br/>
+The guilty fall&rsquo;n, the mighty deed complete;<br/>
+A scream of joy her feeble voice essay&rsquo;d;<br/>
+The hero check&rsquo;d her, and composedly said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Woman, experienced as thou art, control<br/>
+Indecent joy, and feast thy secret soul.<br/>
+To insult the dead is cruel and unjust;<br/>
+Fate and their crime have sunk them to the dust.<br/>
+Nor heeded these the censure of mankind,<br/>
+The good and bad were equal in their mind<br/>
+Justly the price of worthlessness they paid,<br/>
+And each now wails an unlamented shade.<br/>
+But thou sincere! O Euryclea, say,<br/>
+What maids dishonour us, and what obey?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then she: &ldquo;In these thy kingly walls remain<br/>
+(My son) full fifty of the handmaid train,<br/>
+Taught by my care to cull the fleece or weave,<br/>
+And servitude with pleasing tasks deceive;<br/>
+Of these, twice six pursue their wicked way,<br/>
+Nor me, nor chaste Penelope obey;<br/>
+Nor fits it that Telemachus command<br/>
+(Young as he is) his mother&rsquo;s female band.<br/>
+Hence to the upper chambers let me fly<br/>
+Where slumbers soft now close the royal eye;<br/>
+There wake her with the news&rdquo;&mdash;the matron cried.<br/>
+&ldquo;Not so (Ulysses, more sedate, replied),<br/>
+Bring first the crew who wrought these guilty deeds.&rdquo;<br/>
+In haste the matron parts: the king proceeds;<br/>
+&ldquo;Now to dispose the dead, the care remains<br/>
+To you, my son, and you, my faithfull swains;<br/>
+The offending females to that task we doom,<br/>
+To wash, to scent, and purify the room;<br/>
+These (every table cleansed, and every throne,<br/>
+And all the melancholy labour done)<br/>
+Drive to yon court, without the palace wall,<br/>
+There the revenging sword shall smite them all;<br/>
+So with the suitors let them mix in dust,<br/>
+Stretch&rsquo;d in a long oblivion of their lust.&rdquo;<br/>
+He said: the lamentable train appear,<br/>
+Each vents a groan, and drops a tender tear;<br/>
+Each heaved her mournful burden, and beneath<br/>
+The porch deposed the ghastly heap of death.<br/>
+The chief severe, compelling each to move,<br/>
+Urged the dire task imperious from above;<br/>
+With thirsty sponge they rub the tables o&rsquo;er<br/>
+(The swains unite their toil); the walls, the floor,<br/>
+Wash&rsquo;d with the effusive wave, are purged of gore.<br/>
+Once more the palace set in fair array,<br/>
+To the base court the females take their way;<br/>
+There compass&rsquo;d close between the dome and wall<br/>
+(Their life&rsquo;s last scene) they trembling wait their fall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then thus the prince: &ldquo;To these shall we afford<br/>
+A fate so pure as by the martial sword?<br/>
+To these, the nightly prostitutes to shame,<br/>
+And base revilers of our house and name?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus speaking, on the circling wall he strung<br/>
+A ship&rsquo;s tough cable from a column hung;<br/>
+Near the high top he strain&rsquo;d it strongly round,<br/>
+Whence no contending foot could reach the ground.<br/>
+Their heads above connected in a row,<br/>
+They beat the air with quivering feet below:<br/>
+Thus on some tree hung struggling in the snare,<br/>
+The doves or thrushes flap their wings in air.<br/>
+Soon fled the soul impure, and left behind<br/>
+The empty corse to waver with the wind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then forth they led Melanthius, and began<br/>
+Their bloody work; they lopp&rsquo;d away the man,<br/>
+Morsel for dogs! then trimm&rsquo;d with brazen shears<br/>
+The wretch, and shorten&rsquo;d of his nose and ears;<br/>
+His hands and feet last felt the cruel steel:<br/>
+He roar&rsquo;d, and torments gave his soul to hell.<br/>
+They wash, and to Ulysses take their way:<br/>
+So ends the bloody business of the day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To Euryclea then address&rsquo;d the king:<br/>
+&ldquo;Bring hither fire, and hither sulphur bring,<br/>
+To purge the palace: then the queen attend,<br/>
+And let her with her matron-train descend;<br/>
+The matron-train, with all the virgin-band,<br/>
+Assemble here, to learn their lord&rsquo;s command.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Euryclea: &ldquo;Joyful I obey,<br/>
+But cast those mean dishonest rags away;<br/>
+Permit me first the royal robes to bring:<br/>
+Ill suits this garb the shoulders of a king.&rdquo;<br/>
+&ldquo;Bring sulphur straight, and fire&rdquo; (the monarch cries).<br/>
+She hears, and at the word obedient flies.<br/>
+With fire and sulphur, cure of noxious fumes,<br/>
+He purged the walls, and blood-polluted rooms.<br/>
+Again the matron springs with eager pace,<br/>
+And spreads her lord&rsquo;s return from place to place.<br/>
+They hear, rush forth, and instant round him stand,<br/>
+A gazing throng, a torch in every hand.<br/>
+They saw, they knew him, and with fond embrace<br/>
+Each humbly kiss&rsquo;d his knee, or hand, or face;<br/>
+He knows them all, in all such truth appears,<br/>
+E&rsquo;en he indulges the sweet joy of tears.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap23"></a>BOOK XXIII.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Euryclea awakens Penelope with the news of Ulysses&rsquo; return, and the death
+of the suitors. Penelope scarcely credits her; but supposes some god has
+punished them, and descends from her department in doubt. At the first
+interview of Ulysses and Penelope, she is quite unsatisfied. Minerva restores
+him to the beauty of his youth; but the queen continues incredulous, till by
+some circumstances she is convinced, and falls into all the transports of
+passion and tenderness. They recount to each other all that has passed during
+their long separation. The next morning Ulysses, arming himself and his
+friends, goes from the city to visit his father.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Then to the queen, as in repose she lay,<br/>
+The nurse with eager rapture speeds her way:<br/>
+The transports of her faithful heart supply<br/>
+A sudden youth, and give her wings to fly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And sleeps my child? (the reverend matron cries)<br/>
+Ulysses lives! arise, my child, arise!<br/>
+At length appears the long-expected hour!<br/>
+Ulysses comes! the suitors are no more!<br/>
+No more they view the golden light of day!<br/>
+Arise, and bless thee with the glad survey?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Touch&rsquo;d at her words, the mournful queen rejoin&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;Ah! whither wanders thy distemper&rsquo;d mind?<br/>
+The righteous powers, who tread the starry skies,<br/>
+The weak enlighten, and confound the wise,<br/>
+And human thought, with unresisted sway,<br/>
+Depress or raise, enlarge or take away:<br/>
+Truth, by their high decree, thy voice forsakes,<br/>
+And folly with the tongue of wisdom speaks.<br/>
+Unkind, the fond illusion to impose!<br/>
+Was it to flatter or deride my woes?<br/>
+Never did I sleep so sweet enjoy,<br/>
+Since my dear lord left Ithaca for Troy.<br/>
+Why must I wake to grieve, and curse thy shore,<br/>
+O Troy?&mdash;may never tongue pronounce thee more!<br/>
+Begone! another might have felt our rage,<br/>
+But age is sacred, and we spare thy age.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom with warmth: &ldquo;My soul a lie disdains;<br/>
+Ulysses lives, thy own Ulysses reigns:<br/>
+That stranger, patient of the suitors&rsquo; wrongs,<br/>
+And the rude license of ungovern&rsquo;d tongues!<br/>
+He, he is thine! Thy son his latent guest<br/>
+Long knew, but lock&rsquo;d the secret in his breast:<br/>
+With well concerted art to end his woes,<br/>
+And burst at once in vengeance on the foes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While yet she spoke, the queen in transport sprung<br/>
+Swift from the couch, and round the matron hung;<br/>
+Fast from her eye descends the rolling tear:<br/>
+&ldquo;Say, once more say, is my Ulysses here?<br/>
+How could that numerous and outrageous band<br/>
+By one be slain, though by a hero&rsquo;s hand?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I saw it not (she cries), but heard alone,<br/>
+When death was busy, a loud dying groan;<br/>
+The damsel-train turn&rsquo;d pale at every wound,<br/>
+Immured we sate, and catch&rsquo;d each passing sound;<br/>
+When death had seized her prey, thy son attends,<br/>
+And at his nod the damsel-train descends;<br/>
+There terrible in arms Ulysses stood,<br/>
+And the dead suitors almost swam in blood:<br/>
+Thy heart had leap&rsquo;d the hero to survey,<br/>
+Stern as the surly lion o&rsquo;er his prey,<br/>
+Glorious in gore, now with sulphereous fire<br/>
+The dome he purges, now the flame aspires;<br/>
+Heap&rsquo;d lie the dead without the palace walls&mdash;<br/>
+Haste, daughter, haste, thy own Ulysses calls!<br/>
+Thy every wish the bounteous gods bestow;<br/>
+Enjoy the present good, and former woe.<br/>
+Ulysses lives, his vanquish&rsquo;d foes to see;<br/>
+He lives to thy Telemachus and thee!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, no! (with sighs Penelope rejoin&rsquo;d,)<br/>
+Excess of joy disturbs thy wandering mind;<br/>
+How blest this happy hour, should he appear,<br/>
+Dear to us all, to me supremely dear;<br/>
+Ah, no! some god the suitors death decreed,<br/>
+Some god descends, and by his hand they bleed;<br/>
+Blind! to contemn the stranger&rsquo;s righteous cause,<br/>
+And violate all hospitable laws!<br/>
+The good they hated, and the powers defied!<br/>
+But heaven is just, and by a god they died.<br/>
+For never must Ulysses view this shore;<br/>
+Never! the loved Ulysses is no more!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What words (the matron cries) have reach&rsquo;d my ears?<br/>
+Doubt we his presence, when he now appears!<br/>
+Then hear conviction: Ere the fatal day<br/>
+That forced Ulysses o&rsquo;er the watery way,<br/>
+A boar, fierce rushing in the sylvan war,<br/>
+Plough&rsquo;d half his thigh; I saw, I saw the scar,<br/>
+And wild with transport had reveal&rsquo;d the wound;<br/>
+But ere I spoke, he rose, and check&rsquo;d the sound.<br/>
+Then, daughter, haste away! and if a lie<br/>
+Flow from this tongue, then let thy servant die!&rdquo;<br/>
+To whom with dubious joy the queen replies:<br/>
+&ldquo;Wise is thy soul, but errors seize the wise;<br/>
+The works of gods what mortal can survey?<br/>
+Who knows their motives, who shall trace their way?<br/>
+But learn we instant how the suitors trod<br/>
+The paths of death, by man, or by a god.&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus speaks the queen, and no reply attends,<br/>
+But with alternate joy and fear descends;<br/>
+At every step debates her lord to prove;<br/>
+Or, rushing to his arms, confess her love!<br/>
+Then gliding through the marble valves, in state<br/>
+Opposed, before the shining sire she sate.<br/>
+The monarch, by a column high enthroned,<br/>
+His eye withdrew, and fix&rsquo;d it on the ground;<br/>
+Curious to hear his queen the silence break:<br/>
+Amazed she sate, and impotent to speak;<br/>
+O&rsquo;er all the man her eyes she rolls in vain,<br/>
+Now hopes, now fears, now knows, then doubts again.<br/>
+At length Telemachus: &ldquo;Oh, who can find<br/>
+A woman like Penelope unkind?<br/>
+Why thus in silence? why with winning charms<br/>
+Thus slow to fly with rapture to his arms?<br/>
+Stubborn the breast that with no transport glows,<br/>
+When twice ten years are pass&rsquo;d of mighty woes;<br/>
+To softness lost, to spousal love unknown,<br/>
+The gods have formed that rigid heart of stone!&rdquo;<br/>
+&ldquo;O my Telemachus! (the queen rejoin&rsquo;d,)<br/>
+Distracting fears confound my labouring mind;<br/>
+Powerless to speak. I scarce uplift my eyes,<br/>
+Nor dare to question; doubts on doubts arise.<br/>
+Oh deign he, if Ulysses, to remove<br/>
+These boding thoughts, and what he is, to prove!&rdquo;<br/>
+Pleased with her virtuous fears, the king replies:<br/>
+&ldquo;Indulge, my son, the cautions of the wise;<br/>
+Time shall the truth to sure remembrance bring:<br/>
+This garb of poverty belies the king:<br/>
+No more. This day our deepest care requires,<br/>
+Cautious to act what thought mature inspires.<br/>
+If one man&rsquo;s blood, though mean, distain our hands,<br/>
+The homicide retreats to foreign lands;<br/>
+By us, in heaps the illustrious peerage falls,<br/>
+The important deed our whole attention calls.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be that thy care (Telemachus replies)<br/>
+The world conspires to speak Ulysses wise;<br/>
+For wisdom all is thine! lo, I obey,<br/>
+And dauntless follow where you led the way;<br/>
+Nor shalt thou in the day of danger find<br/>
+Thy coward son degenerate lag behind.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then instant to the bath (the monarch cries),<br/>
+Bid the gay youth and sprightly virgins rise,<br/>
+Thence all descend in pomp and proud array,<br/>
+And bid the dome resound the mirthful lay;<br/>
+While the sweet lyrist airs of rapture sings,<br/>
+And forms the dance responsive to the strings,<br/>
+That hence the eluded passengers may say,<br/>
+&lsquo;Lo! the queen weds! we hear the spousal lay!&rsquo;<br/>
+The suitor&rsquo;s death, unknown, till we remove<br/>
+Far from the court, and act inspired by Jove.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus spoke the king: the observant train obey,<br/>
+At once they bathe, and dress in proud array:<br/>
+The lyrist strikes the string; gay youths advance,<br/>
+And fair-zoned damsels form the sprightly dance.<br/>
+The voice, attuned to instrumental sounds,<br/>
+Ascends the roof, the vaulted roof rebounds;<br/>
+Not unobserved: the Greeks eluded say,<br/>
+&ldquo;Lo! the queen weds, we hear the spousal lay!<br/>
+Inconstant! to admit the bridal hour.&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus they&mdash;but nobly chaste she weds no more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile the wearied king the bath ascends;<br/>
+With faithful cares Eurynome attends,<br/>
+O&rsquo;er every limb a shower of fragrance sheds;<br/>
+Then, dress&rsquo;d in pomp, magnificent he treads.<br/>
+The warrior-goddess gives his frame to shine<br/>
+With majesty enlarged, and grace divine.<br/>
+Back from his brows in wavy ringlets fly<br/>
+His thick large locks of hyacinthine dye.<br/>
+As by some artist to whom Vulcan gives<br/>
+His heavenly skill, a breathing image lives;<br/>
+By Pallas taught, he frames the wondrous mould,<br/>
+And the pale silver glows with fusile gold:<br/>
+So Pallas his heroic form improves<br/>
+With bloom divine, and like a god he moves!<br/>
+More high he treads, and issuing forth in state,<br/>
+Radiant before his gazing consort sate.<br/>
+&ldquo;And, O my queen! (he cries) what power above<br/>
+Has steel&rsquo;d that heart, averse to spousal love?<br/>
+Canst thou, Penelope, when heaven restores<br/>
+Thy lost Ulysses to his native shores,<br/>
+Canst thou, O cruel! unconcern&rsquo;d survey<br/>
+Thy lost Ulysses, on this signal day?<br/>
+Haste, Euryclea, and despatchful spread<br/>
+For me, and me alone, the imperial bed,<br/>
+My weary nature craves the balm of rest.<br/>
+But Heaven with adamant has arm&rsquo;d her breast.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah no! (she cries) a tender heart I bear,<br/>
+A foe to pride: no adamant is there;<br/>
+And now, e&rsquo;en now it melts! for sure I see<br/>
+Once more Ulysses my beloved in thee!<br/>
+Fix&rsquo;d in my soul, as when he sailed to Troy,<br/>
+His image dwells: then haste the bed of joy,<br/>
+Haste, from the bridal bower the bed translate,<br/>
+Fram&rsquo;d by his hand, and be it dress&rsquo;d in state!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus speaks the queen, still dubious, with disguise<br/>
+Touch&rsquo;d at her words, the king with warmth replies<br/>
+&ldquo;Alas for this! what mortal strength can move<br/>
+The enormous burden, who but Heaven above?<br/>
+It mocks the weak attempts of human hands!<br/>
+But the whole earth must move if Heaven commands<br/>
+Then hear sure evidence, while we display<br/>
+Words seal&rsquo;d with sacred truth, and truth obey:<br/>
+This hand the wonder framed; an olive spread<br/>
+Full in the court its ever verdant head.<br/>
+Vast as some mighty column&rsquo;s bulk, on high<br/>
+The huge trunk rose, and heaved into the sky;<br/>
+Around the tree I raised a nuptial bower,<br/>
+And roof&rsquo;d defensive of the storm and shower;<br/>
+The spacious valve, with art inwrought conjoins;<br/>
+And the fair dome with polished marble shines.<br/>
+I lopp&rsquo;d the branchy head: aloft in twain<br/>
+Sever&rsquo;d the bole, and smoothed the shining grain;<br/>
+Then posts, capacious of the frame, I raise,<br/>
+And bore it, regular, from space to space:<br/>
+Athwart the frame, at equal distance lie<br/>
+Thongs of tough hides, that boast a purple dye;<br/>
+Then polishing the whole, the finished mould<br/>
+With silver shone, with elephant, and gold.<br/>
+But if o&rsquo;erturn&rsquo;d by rude, ungovern&rsquo;d hands,<br/>
+Or still inviolate the olive stands,<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis thine, O queen, to say, and now impart,<br/>
+If fears remain, or doubts distract thy heart.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While yet he speaks, her powers of life decay;<br/>
+She sickens, trembles, falls, and faints away.<br/>
+At length recovering, to his arms she flew,<br/>
+And strain&rsquo;d him close, as to his breast she grew.<br/>
+The tears pour&rsquo;d down amain, and &ldquo;O (she cries)<br/>
+Let not against thy spouse thine anger rise!<br/>
+O versed in every turn of human art,<br/>
+Forgive the weakness of a woman&rsquo;s heart!<br/>
+The righteous powers, that mortal lot dispose,<br/>
+Decree us to sustain a length of woes.<br/>
+And from the flower of life the bliss deny<br/>
+To bloom together, fade away, and die.<br/>
+O let me, let me not thine anger move,<br/>
+That I forbore, thus, thus to speak my love:<br/>
+Thus in fond kisses, while the transport warms<br/>
+Pour out my soul and die within thine arms!<br/>
+I dreaded fraud! Men, faithless men, betray<br/>
+Our easy faith, and make our sex their prey:<br/>
+Against the fondness of my heart I strove:<br/>
+&rsquo;Twas caution, O my lord! not want of love.<br/>
+Like me had Helen fear&rsquo;d, with wanton charms<br/>
+Ere the fair mischief set two worlds in arms;<br/>
+Ere Greece rose dreadful in the avenging day;<br/>
+Thus had she fear&rsquo;d, she had not gone astray.<br/>
+But Heaven, averse to Greece, in wrath decreed<br/>
+That she should wander, and that Greece should bleed:<br/>
+Blind to the ills that from injustice flow,<br/>
+She colour&rsquo;d all our wretched lives with woe.<br/>
+But why these sorrows when my lord arrives?<br/>
+I yield, I yield! my own Ulysses lives!<br/>
+The secrets of the bridal bed are known<br/>
+To thee, to me, to Actoris alone<br/>
+(My father&rsquo;s present in the spousal hour,<br/>
+The sole attendant on our genial bower).<br/>
+Since what no eye hath seen thy tongue reveal&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Hard and distrustful as I am, I yield.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Touch&rsquo;d to the soul, the king with rapture hears,<br/>
+Hangs round her neck, and speaks his joy in tears.<br/>
+As to the shipwreck&rsquo;d mariner, the shores<br/>
+Delightful rise, when angry Neptune roars:<br/>
+Then, when the surge in thunder mounts the sky,<br/>
+And gulf&rsquo;d in crowds at once the sailors die;<br/>
+If one, more happy, while the tempest raves,<br/>
+Outlives the tumult of conflicting waves,<br/>
+All pale, with ooze deform&rsquo;d, he views the strand,<br/>
+And plunging forth with transport grasps the land:<br/>
+The ravish&rsquo;d queen with equal rapture glows,<br/>
+Clasps her loved lord, and to his bosom grows.<br/>
+Nor had they ended till the morning ray,<br/>
+But Pallas backward held the rising day,<br/>
+The wheels of night retarding, to detain<br/>
+The gay Aurora in the wavy main;<br/>
+Whose flaming steeds, emerging through the night,<br/>
+Beam o&rsquo;er the eastern hills with streaming light.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length Ulysses with a sigh replies:<br/>
+&ldquo;Yet Fate, yet cruel Fate repose denies;<br/>
+A labour long, and hard, remains behind;<br/>
+By heaven above, by hell beneath enjoin&rsquo;d:<br/>
+For to Tiresias through the eternal gates<br/>
+Of hell I trode, to learn my future fates.<br/>
+But end we here&mdash;the night demands repose,<br/>
+Be deck&rsquo;d the couch! and peace awhile, my woes!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom the queen: &ldquo;Thy word we shall obey,<br/>
+And deck the couch; far hence be woes away:<br/>
+Since the just gods, who tread the starry plains,<br/>
+Restore thee safe, since my Ulysses reigns.<br/>
+But what those perils heaven decrees, impart;<br/>
+Knowledge may grieve, but fear distracts the heart.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To this the king: &ldquo;Ah, why must I disclose<br/>
+A dreadful story of approaching woes?<br/>
+Why in this hour of transport wound thy ears,<br/>
+When thou must learn what I must speak with tears?<br/>
+Heaven, by the Theban ghost, thy spouse decrees,<br/>
+Torn from thy arms, to sail a length of seas;<br/>
+From realm to realm, a nation to explore<br/>
+Who ne&rsquo;er knew salt, or heard the billows roar,<br/>
+Nor saw gay vessel storm the surgy plain,<br/>
+A painted wonder, flying on the main:<br/>
+An oar my hand must bear; a shepherd eyes<br/>
+The unknown instrument with strange surprise,<br/>
+And calls a corn-van; this upon the plain<br/>
+I fix, and hail the monarch of the main;<br/>
+Then bathe his altars with the mingled gore<br/>
+Of victims vow&rsquo;d, a ram, a bull, a boar;<br/>
+Thence swift re-sailing to my native shores,<br/>
+Due victims slay to all the ethereal powers.<br/>
+Then Heaven decrees, in peace to end my days<br/>
+And steal myself from life by slow decays!<br/>
+Unknown to pain, in age resign my breath,<br/>
+When late stern Neptune points the shaft of death;<br/>
+To the dark grave retiring as to rest;<br/>
+My people blessing, by my people bless&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Such future scenes the all-righteous powers display<br/>
+By their dread seer, and such my future day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To whom thus firm of soul: &ldquo;If ripe for death,<br/>
+And full of days, thou gently yield thy breath;<br/>
+While Heaven a kind release from ills foreshows,<br/>
+Triumph, thou happy victor of thy woes?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Euryclea, with dispatchful care,<br/>
+And sage Eurynome, the couch prepare;<br/>
+Instant they bid the blazing torch display<br/>
+Around the dome and artificial day;<br/>
+Then to repose her steps the matron bends,<br/>
+And to the queen Eurynome descends;<br/>
+A torch she bears, to light with guiding fires<br/>
+The royal pair; she guides them, and retires<br/>
+The instant his fair spouse Ulysses led<br/>
+To the chaste love-rites of the nuptial bed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now the blooming youths and sprightly fair<br/>
+Cease the gay dance, and to their rest repair;<br/>
+But in discourse the king and consort lay,<br/>
+While the soft hours stole unperceived away;<br/>
+Intent he hears Penelope disclose<br/>
+A mournful story of domestic woes,<br/>
+His servants&rsquo; insults, his invaded bed,<br/>
+How his whole flocks and herds exhausted bled,<br/>
+His generous wines dishonour&rsquo;d shed in vain,<br/>
+And the wild riots of the suitor-train.<br/>
+The king alternate a dire tale relates,<br/>
+Of wars, of triumphs, and disastrous fates;<br/>
+All he unfolds; his listening spouse turns pale<br/>
+With pleasing horror at the dreadful tale;<br/>
+Sleepless devours each word; and hears how slain<br/>
+Cicons on Cicons swell the ensanguined plain;<br/>
+How to the land of Lote unbless&rsquo;d he sails;<br/>
+And images the rills and flowery vales!<br/>
+How dash&rsquo;d like dogs, his friends the Cyclops tore<br/>
+(Not unrevenged), and quaff&rsquo;d the spouting gore;<br/>
+How the loud storms in prison bound, he sails<br/>
+From friendly Aeolus with prosperous gales:<br/>
+Yet fate withstands! a sudden tempest roars,<br/>
+And whirls him groaning from his native shores:<br/>
+How on the barbarous Laestrigonian coast,<br/>
+By savage hands his fleet and friends lie lost;<br/>
+How scarce himself survived: he paints the bower,<br/>
+The spells of Circe, and her magic power;<br/>
+His dreadful journey to the realms beneath,<br/>
+To seek Tiresias in the vales of death;<br/>
+How in the doleful mansions lie survey&rsquo;d<br/>
+His royal mother, pale Anticlea&rsquo;s shade;<br/>
+And friends in battle slain, heroic ghosts!<br/>
+Then how, unharm&rsquo;d, he pass&rsquo;d the Syren-coasts,<br/>
+The justling rocks where fierce Charybdis raves,<br/>
+And howling Scylla whirls her thunderous waves,<br/>
+The cave of death! How his companions slay<br/>
+The oxen sacred to the god of day.<br/>
+Till Jove in wrath the rattling tempest guides,<br/>
+And whelms the offenders in the roaring tides:<br/>
+How struggling through the surge he reach&rsquo;d the shores<br/>
+Of fair Ogygia and Calypso&rsquo;s bowers;<br/>
+Where the gay blooming nymph constrain&rsquo;d his stay,<br/>
+With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay;<br/>
+And promised, vainly promised, to bestow<br/>
+Immortal life, exempt from age and woe:<br/>
+How saved from storms Phæacia&rsquo;s coast he trod,<br/>
+By great Alcinous honour&rsquo;d as a god,<br/>
+Who gave him last his country to behold,<br/>
+With change of raiment, brass, and heaps of gold
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He ended, sinking into sleep, and shares<br/>
+A sweet forgetfulness of all his cares.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Soon as soft slumber eased the toils of day,<br/>
+Minerva rushes through the aërial way,<br/>
+And bids Aurora with her golden wheels<br/>
+Flame from the ocean o&rsquo;er the eastern hills;<br/>
+Uprose Ulysses from the genial bed,<br/>
+And thus with thought mature the monarch said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My queen, my consort! through a length of years<br/>
+We drank the cup of sorrow mix&rsquo;d with tears;<br/>
+Thou, for thy lord; while me the immortal powers<br/>
+Detain&rsquo;d reluctant from my native shores.<br/>
+Now, bless&rsquo;d again by Heaven, the queen display,<br/>
+And rule our palace with an equal sway.<br/>
+Be it my care, by loans, or martial toils,<br/>
+To throng my empty folds with gifts or spoils.<br/>
+But now I haste to bless Laertes&rsquo; eyes<br/>
+With sight of his Ulysses ere he dies;<br/>
+The good old man, to wasting woes a prey,<br/>
+Weeps a sad life in solitude away.<br/>
+But hear, though wise! This morning shall unfold<br/>
+The deathful scene, on heroes heroes roll&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Thou with thy maids within the palace stay,<br/>
+From all the scene of tumult far away!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke, and sheathed in arms incessant flies<br/>
+To wake his son, and bid his friends arise.<br/>
+&ldquo;To arms!&rdquo; aloud he cries; his friends obey,<br/>
+With glittering arms their manly limbs array,<br/>
+And pass the city gate; Ulysses leads the way.<br/>
+Now flames the rosy dawn, but Pallas shrouds<br/>
+The latent warriors in a veil of clouds.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap24"></a>BOOK XXIV.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+ARGUMENT.
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+The souls of the suitors are conducted by Mercury to the infernal shades.
+Ulysses in the country goes to the retirement of his father, Laertes; he finds
+him busied in his garden all alone; the manner of his discovery to him is
+beautifully described. They return together to his lodge, and the king is
+acknowledged by Dolius and the servants. The Ithacensians, led by Eupithes, the
+father of Antinous, rise against Ulysses, who gives them battle in which
+Eupithes is killed by Laertes: and the goddess Pallas makes a lasting peace
+between Ulysses and his subjects, which concludes the Odyssey.
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Cyllenius now to Pluto&rsquo;s dreary reign<br/>
+Conveys the dead, a lamentable train!<br/>
+The golden wand, that causes sleep to fly,<br/>
+Or in soft slumber seals the wakeful eye,<br/>
+That drives the ghosts to realms of night or day,<br/>
+Points out the long uncomfortable way.<br/>
+Trembling the spectres glide, and plaintive vent<br/>
+Thin, hollow screams, along the deep descent.<br/>
+As in the cavern of some rifted den,<br/>
+Where flock nocturnal bats, and birds obscene;<br/>
+Cluster&rsquo;d they hang, till at some sudden shock<br/>
+They move, and murmurs run through all the rock!<br/>
+So cowering fled the sable heaps of ghosts,<br/>
+And such a scream fill&rsquo;d all the dismal coasts.<br/>
+And now they reach&rsquo;d the earth&rsquo;s remotest ends,<br/>
+And now the gates where evening Sol descends,<br/>
+And Leucas&rsquo; rock, and Ocean&rsquo;s utmost streams,<br/>
+And now pervade the dusky land of dreams,<br/>
+And rest at last, where souls unbodied dwell<br/>
+In ever-flowing meads of asphodel.<br/>
+The empty forms of men inhabit there,<br/>
+Impassive semblance, images of air!<br/>
+Naught else are all that shined on earth before:<br/>
+Ajax and great Achilles are no more!<br/>
+Yet still a master ghost, the rest he awed,<br/>
+The rest adored him, towering as he trod;<br/>
+Still at his side is Nestor&rsquo;s son survey&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And loved Patroclus still attends his shade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+New as they were to that infernal shore,<br/>
+The suitors stopp&rsquo;d, and gazed the hero o&rsquo;er.<br/>
+When, moving slow, the regal form they view&rsquo;d<br/>
+Of great Atrides: him in pomp pursued<br/>
+And solemn sadness through the gloom of hell,<br/>
+The train of those who by AEgysthus fell:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O mighty chief! (Pelides thus began)<br/>
+Honour&rsquo;d by Jove above the lot of man!<br/>
+King of a hundred kings! to whom resign&rsquo;d<br/>
+The strongest, bravest, greatest of mankind<br/>
+Comest thou the first, to view this dreary state?<br/>
+And was the noblest, the first mark of Fate,<br/>
+Condemn&rsquo;d to pay the great arrear so soon,<br/>
+The lot, which all lament, and none can shun!<br/>
+Oh! better hadst thou sunk in Trojan ground,<br/>
+With all thy full-blown honours cover&rsquo;d round;<br/>
+Then grateful Greece with streaming eyes might raise<br/>
+Historic marbles to record thy praise:<br/>
+Thy praise eternal on the faithful stone<br/>
+Had with transmissive glories graced thy son.<br/>
+But heavier fates were destined to attend:<br/>
+What man is happy, till he knows his end?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O son of Peleus! greater than mankind!<br/>
+(Thus Agamemnon&rsquo;s kingly shade rejoin&rsquo;d)<br/>
+Thrice happy thou, to press the martial plain<br/>
+&rsquo;Midst heaps of heroes in thy quarrel slain:<br/>
+In clouds of smoke raised by the noble fray,<br/>
+Great and terrific e&rsquo;en in death you lay,<br/>
+And deluges of blood flow&rsquo;d round you every way.<br/>
+Nor ceased the strife till Jove himself opposed,<br/>
+And all in Tempests the dire evening closed.<br/>
+Then to the fleet we bore thy honour&rsquo;d load,<br/>
+And decent on the funeral bed bestow&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Then unguents sweet and tepid streams we shed;<br/>
+Tears flow&rsquo;d from every eye, and o&rsquo;er the dead<br/>
+Each clipp&rsquo;d the curling honours of his head.<br/>
+Struck at the news, thy azure mother came,<br/>
+The sea-green sisters waited on the dame:<br/>
+A voice of loud lament through all the main<br/>
+Was heard; and terror seized the Grecian train:<br/>
+Back to their ships the frighted host had fled;<br/>
+But Nestor spoke, they listen&rsquo;d and obey&rsquo;d<br/>
+(From old experience Nestor&rsquo;s counsel springs,<br/>
+And long vicissitudes of human things):<br/>
+&lsquo;Forbear your flight: fair Thetis from the main<br/>
+To mourn Achilles leads her azure train.&rsquo;<br/>
+Around thee stand the daughters of the deep,<br/>
+Robe thee in heavenly vests, and round thee weep:<br/>
+Round thee, the Muses, with alternate strain,<br/>
+In ever-consecrating verse, complain.<br/>
+Each warlike Greek the moving music hears,<br/>
+And iron-hearted heroes melt in tears.<br/>
+Till seventeen nights and seventeen days return&rsquo;d<br/>
+All that was mortal or immortal mourn&rsquo;d,<br/>
+To flames we gave thee, the succeeding day,<br/>
+And fatted sheep and sable oxen slay;<br/>
+With oils and honey blazed the augmented fires,<br/>
+And, like a god adorn&rsquo;d, thy earthly part expires.<br/>
+Unnumber&rsquo;d warriors round the burning pile<br/>
+Urge the fleet coursers or the racer&rsquo;s toil;<br/>
+Thick clouds of dust o&rsquo;er all the circle rise,<br/>
+And the mix&rsquo;d clamour thunders in the skies.<br/>
+Soon as absorb&rsquo;d in all-embracing flame<br/>
+Sunk what was mortal of thy mighty name,<br/>
+We then collect thy snowy bones, and place<br/>
+With wines and unguents in a golden vase<br/>
+(The vase to Thetis Bacchus gave of old,<br/>
+And Vulcan&rsquo;s art enrich&rsquo;d the sculptured gold).<br/>
+There, we thy relics, great Achilles! blend<br/>
+With dear Patroclus, thy departed friend:<br/>
+In the same urn a separate space contains<br/>
+Thy next beloved, Antilochus&rsquo; remains.<br/>
+Now all the sons of warlike Greece surround<br/>
+Thy destined tomb and cast a mighty mound;<br/>
+High on the shore the growing hill we raise,<br/>
+That wide the extended Hellespont surveys;<br/>
+Where all, from age to age, who pass the coast,<br/>
+May point Achilles&rsquo; tomb, and hail the mighty ghost.<br/>
+Thetis herself to all our peers proclaims<br/>
+Heroic prizes and exequial games;<br/>
+The gods assented; and around thee lay<br/>
+Rich spoils and gifts that blazed against the day.<br/>
+Oft have I seen with solemn funeral games<br/>
+Heroes and kings committed to the flames;<br/>
+But strength of youth, or valour of the brave,<br/>
+With nobler contest ne&rsquo;er renown&rsquo;d a grave.<br/>
+Such were the games by azure Thetis given,<br/>
+And such thy honours, O beloved of Heaven!<br/>
+Dear to mankind thy fame survives, nor fades<br/>
+Its bloom eternal in the Stygian shades.<br/>
+But what to me avail my honours gone,<br/>
+Successful toils, and battles bravely won?<br/>
+Doom&rsquo;d by stern Jove at home to end my life,<br/>
+By cursed Ægysthus, and a faithless wife!&rdquo;<br/>
+Thus they: while Hermes o&rsquo;er the dreary plain<br/>
+Led the sad numbers by Ulysses slain.<br/>
+On each majestic form they cast a view,<br/>
+And timorous pass&rsquo;d, and awfully withdrew.<br/>
+But Agamemnon, through the gloomy shade,<br/>
+His ancient host Amphimedon survey&rsquo;d:<br/>
+&ldquo;Son of Melanthius! (he began) O say!<br/>
+What cause compell&rsquo;d so many, and so gay,<br/>
+To tread the downward, melancholy way?<br/>
+Say, could one city yield a troop so fair?<br/>
+Were all these partners of one native air?<br/>
+Or did the rage of stormy Neptune sweep<br/>
+Your lives at once, and whelm beneath the deep?<br/>
+Did nightly thieves, or pirates&rsquo; cruel bands,<br/>
+Drench with your blood your pillaged country&rsquo;s sands?<br/>
+Or well-defending some beleaguer&rsquo;d wall,<br/>
+Say,&mdash;for the public did ye greatly fall?<br/>
+Inform thy guest: for such I was of yore<br/>
+When our triumphant navies touch&rsquo;d your shore;<br/>
+Forced a long month the wintry seas to bear,<br/>
+To move the great Ulysses to the war.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O king of men! I faithful shall relate<br/>
+(Replied Amphimedon) our hapless fate.<br/>
+Ulysses absent, our ambitious aim<br/>
+With rival loves pursued his royal dame;<br/>
+Her coy reserve, and prudence mix&rsquo;d with pride,<br/>
+Our common suit nor granted, nor denied;<br/>
+But close with inward hate our deaths design&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Versed in all arts of wily womankind.<br/>
+Her hand, laborious, in delusion spread<br/>
+A spacious loom, and mix&rsquo;d the various thread.<br/>
+&lsquo;Ye peers (she cried) who press to gain my heart,<br/>
+Where dead Ulysses claims no more a part,<br/>
+Yet a short space your rival suit suspend,<br/>
+Till this funereal web my labours end:<br/>
+Cease, till to good Laertes I bequeath<br/>
+A task of grief, his ornaments of death:<br/>
+Lest when the Fates his royal ashes claim,<br/>
+The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame;<br/>
+Should he, long honour&rsquo;d with supreme command,<br/>
+Want the last duties of a daughter&rsquo;s hand.&rsquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The fiction pleased, our generous train complies,<br/>
+Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue&rsquo;s fair disguise.<br/>
+The work she plied, but studious of delay,<br/>
+Each following night reversed the toils of day.<br/>
+Unheard, unseen, three years her arts prevail;<br/>
+The fourth, her maid reveal&rsquo;d the amazing tale,<br/>
+And show&rsquo;d as unperceived we took our stand,<br/>
+The backward labours of her faithless hand.<br/>
+Forced she completes it; and before us lay<br/>
+The mingled web, whose gold and silver ray<br/>
+Display&rsquo;d the radiance of the night and day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Just as she finished her illustrious toil,<br/>
+Ill fortune led Ulysses to our isle.<br/>
+Far in a lonely nook, beside the sea,<br/>
+At an old swineherd&rsquo;s rural lodge he lay:<br/>
+Thither his son from sandy Pyle repairs,<br/>
+And speedy lands, and secretly confers.<br/>
+They plan our future ruin, and resort<br/>
+Confederate to the city and the court.<br/>
+First came the son; the father next succeeds,<br/>
+Clad like a beggar, whom Eumaeus leads;<br/>
+Propp&rsquo;d on a staff, deform&rsquo;d with age and care,<br/>
+And hung with rags that flutter&rsquo;d in the air.<br/>
+Who could Ulysses in that form behold?<br/>
+Scorn&rsquo;d by the young, forgotten by the old,<br/>
+Ill-used by all! to every wrong resigned,<br/>
+Patient he suffered with a constant mind.<br/>
+But when, arising in his wrath to obey<br/>
+The will of Jove, he gave the vengeance way:<br/>
+The scattered arms that hung around the dome<br/>
+Careful he treasured in a private room;<br/>
+Then to her suitors bade his queen propose<br/>
+The archer&rsquo;s strife, the source of future woes,<br/>
+And omen of our death! In vain we drew<br/>
+The twanging string, and tried the stubborn yew:<br/>
+To none it yields but great Ulysses&rsquo; hands;<br/>
+In vain we threat; Telemachus commands:<br/>
+The bow he snatch&rsquo;d, and in an instant bent;<br/>
+Through every ring the victor arrow went.<br/>
+Fierce on the threshold then in arms he stood;<br/>
+Poured forth the darts that thirsted for our blood,<br/>
+And frown&rsquo;d before us, dreadful as a god!<br/>
+First bleeds Antinous: thick the shafts resound,<br/>
+And heaps on heaps the wretches strew the ground;<br/>
+This way, and that, we turn, we fly, we fall;<br/>
+Some god assisted, and unmann&rsquo;d us all;<br/>
+Ignoble cries precede the dying groans;<br/>
+And battered brains and blood besmear the stones.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thus, great Atrides, thus Ulysses drove<br/>
+The shades thou seest from yon fair realms above;<br/>
+Our mangled bodies now deformed with gore,<br/>
+Cold and neglected, spread the marble floor.<br/>
+No friend to bathe our wounds, or tears to shed<br/>
+O&rsquo;er the pale corse! the honours of the dead.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh bless&rsquo;d Ulysses! (thus the king express&rsquo;d<br/>
+His sudden rapture) in thy consort bless&rsquo;d!<br/>
+Not more thy wisdom than her virtue shined;<br/>
+Not more thy patience than her constant mind.<br/>
+Icarius&rsquo; daughter, glory of the past,<br/>
+And model to the future age, shall last:<br/>
+The gods, to honour her fair fame, shall rise<br/>
+(Their great reward) a poet in her praise.<br/>
+Not such, O Tyndarus! thy daughter&rsquo;s deed,<br/>
+By whose dire hand her king and husband bled;<br/>
+Her shall the Muse to infamy prolong,<br/>
+Example dread, and theme of tragic song!<br/>
+The general sex shall suffer in her shame,<br/>
+And e&rsquo;en the best that bears a woman&rsquo;s name.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus in the regions of eternal shade<br/>
+Conferr&rsquo;d the mournful phantoms of the dead;<br/>
+While from the town, Ulysses and his band<br/>
+Pass&rsquo;d to Laertes&rsquo; cultivated land.<br/>
+The ground himself had purchased with his pain,<br/>
+And labour made the rugged soil a plain,<br/>
+There stood his mansion of the rural sort,<br/>
+With useful buildings round the lowly court;<br/>
+Where the few servants that divide his care<br/>
+Took their laborious rest, and homely fare;<br/>
+And one Sicilian matron, old and sage,<br/>
+With constant duty tends his drooping age.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here now arriving, to his rustic band<br/>
+And martial son, Ulysses gave command:<br/>
+&ldquo;Enter the house, and of the bristly swine<br/>
+Select the largest to the powers divine.<br/>
+Alone, and unattended, let me try<br/>
+If yet I share the old man&rsquo;s memory:<br/>
+If those dim eyes can yet Ulysses know<br/>
+(Their light and dearest object long ago),<br/>
+Now changed with time, with absence and with woe.&rdquo;<br/>
+Then to his train he gives his spear and shield;<br/>
+The house they enter; and he seeks the field,<br/>
+Through rows of shade, with various fruitage crown&rsquo;d,<br/>
+And labour&rsquo;d scenes of richest verdure round.<br/>
+Nor aged Dolius; nor his sons, were there,<br/>
+Nor servants, absent on another care;<br/>
+To search the woods for sets of flowery thorn,<br/>
+Their orchard bounds to strengthen and adorn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But all alone the hoary king he found;<br/>
+His habit course, but warmly wrapp&rsquo;d around;<br/>
+His head, that bow&rsquo;d with many a pensive care,<br/>
+Fenced with a double cap of goatskin hair:<br/>
+His buskins old, in former service torn,<br/>
+But swell repair&rsquo;d; and gloves against the thorn.<br/>
+In this array the kingly gardener stood,<br/>
+And clear&rsquo;d a plant, encumber&rsquo;d with its wood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Beneath a neighbouring tree, the chief divine<br/>
+Gazed o&rsquo;er his sire, retracing every line,<br/>
+The ruins of himself, now worn away<br/>
+With age, yet still majestic in decay!<br/>
+Sudden his eyes released their watery store;<br/>
+The much-enduring man could bear no more.<br/>
+Doubtful he stood, if instant to embrace<br/>
+His aged limbs, to kiss his reverend face,<br/>
+With eager transport to disclose the whole,<br/>
+And pour at once the torrent of his soul.&mdash;<br/>
+Not so: his judgment takes the winding way<br/>
+Of question distant, and of soft essay;<br/>
+More gentle methods on weak age employs:<br/>
+And moves the sorrows to enhance the joys.<br/>
+Then, to his sire with beating heart he moves,<br/>
+And with a tender pleasantry reproves;<br/>
+Who digging round the plant still hangs his bead,<br/>
+Nor aught remits the work, while thus he said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Great is thy skill, O father! great thy toil,<br/>
+Thy careful hand is stamp&rsquo;d on all the soil,<br/>
+Thy squadron&rsquo;d vineyards well thy art declare,<br/>
+The olive green, blue fig, and pendent pear;<br/>
+And not one empty spot escapes thy care.<br/>
+On every plant and tree thy cares are shown,<br/>
+Nothing neglected, but thyself alone.<br/>
+Forgive me, father, if this fault I blame;<br/>
+Age so advanced, may some indulgence claim.<br/>
+Not for thy sloth, I deem thy lord unkind:<br/>
+Nor speaks thy form a mean or servile mind;<br/>
+I read a monarch in that princely air,<br/>
+The same thy aspect, if the same thy care;<br/>
+Soft sleep, fair garments, and the joys of wine,<br/>
+These are the rights of age, and should be thine.<br/>
+Who then thy master, say? and whose the land<br/>
+So dress&rsquo;d and managed by thy skilful hand?<br/>
+But chief, oh tell me! (what I question most)<br/>
+Is this the far-famed Ithacensian coast?<br/>
+For so reported the first man I view&rsquo;d<br/>
+(Some surly islander, of manners rude),<br/>
+Nor farther conference vouchsafed to stay;<br/>
+Heedless he whistled, and pursued his way.<br/>
+But thou whom years have taught to understand,<br/>
+Humanely hear, and answer my demand:<br/>
+A friend I seek, a wise one and a brave:<br/>
+Say, lives he yet, or moulders in the grave?<br/>
+Time was (my fortunes then were at the best)<br/>
+When at my house I lodged this foreign guest;<br/>
+He said, from Ithaca&rsquo;s fair isle he came,<br/>
+And old Laertes was his father&rsquo;s name.<br/>
+To him, whatever to a guest is owed<br/>
+I paid, and hospitable gifts bestow&rsquo;d:<br/>
+To him seven talents of pure ore I told,<br/>
+Twelve cloaks, twelve vests, twelve tunics stiff with gold:<br/>
+A bowl, that rich with polish&rsquo;d silver flames,<br/>
+And skill&rsquo;d in female works, four lovely dames.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this the father, with a father&rsquo;s fears<br/>
+(His venerable eyes bedimm&rsquo;d with tears):<br/>
+&ldquo;This is the land; but ah! thy gifts are lost,<br/>
+For godless men, and rude possess the coast:<br/>
+Sunk is the glory of this once-famed shore!<br/>
+Thy ancient friend, O stranger, is no more!<br/>
+Full recompense thy bounty else had borne:<br/>
+For every good man yields a just return:<br/>
+So civil rights demand; and who begins<br/>
+The track of friendship, not pursuing, sins.<br/>
+But tell me, stranger, be the truth confess&rsquo;d,<br/>
+What years have circled since thou saw&rsquo;st that guest?<br/>
+That hapless guest, alas! for ever gone!<br/>
+Wretch that he was! and that I am! my son!<br/>
+If ever man to misery was born,<br/>
+&rsquo;Twas his to suffer, and &rsquo;tis mine to mourn!<br/>
+Far from his friends, and from his native reign,<br/>
+He lies a prey to monsters of the main;<br/>
+Or savage beasts his mangled relics tear,<br/>
+Or screaming vultures scatter through the air:<br/>
+Nor could his mother funeral unguents shed;<br/>
+Nor wail&rsquo;d his father o&rsquo;er the untimely dead:<br/>
+Nor his sad consort, on the mournful bier,<br/>
+Seal&rsquo;d his cold eyes, or dropp&rsquo;d a tender tear!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, tell me who thou art? and what thy race?<br/>
+Thy town, thy parents, and thy native place?<br/>
+Or, if a merchant in pursuit of gain,<br/>
+What port received thy vessel from the main?<br/>
+Or comest thou single, or attend thy train?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then thus the son: &ldquo;From Alybas I came,<br/>
+My palace there; Eperitus my name<br/>
+Not vulgar born: from Aphidas, the king<br/>
+Of Polyphemon&rsquo;s royal line, I spring.<br/>
+Some adverse demon from Sicania bore<br/>
+Our wandering course, and drove us on your shore;<br/>
+Far from the town, an unfrequented bay<br/>
+Relieved our wearied vessel from the sea.<br/>
+Five years have circled since these eyes pursued<br/>
+Ulysses parting through the sable flood:<br/>
+Prosperous he sail&rsquo;d, with dexter auguries,<br/>
+And all the wing&rsquo;d good omens of the skies.<br/>
+Well hoped we then to meet on this fair shore,<br/>
+Whom Heaven, alas! decreed to meet no more.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Quick through the father&rsquo;s heart these accents ran;<br/>
+Grief seized at once, and wrapp&rsquo;d up all the man:<br/>
+Deep from his soul he sigh&rsquo;d, and sorrowing spread<br/>
+A cloud of ashes on his hoary head.<br/>
+Trembling with agonies of strong delight<br/>
+Stood the great son, heart-wounded with the sight:<br/>
+He ran, he seized him with a strict embrace,<br/>
+With thousand kisses wander&rsquo;d o&rsquo;er his face:<br/>
+&ldquo;I, I am he; O father, rise! behold<br/>
+Thy son, with twenty winters now grown old;<br/>
+Thy son, so long desired, so long detain&rsquo;d,<br/>
+Restored, and breathing in his native land:<br/>
+These floods of sorrow, O my sire, restrain!<br/>
+The vengeance is complete; the suitor train,<br/>
+Stretch&rsquo;d in our palace, by these hands lie slain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Amazed, Laertes: &ldquo;Give some certain sign<br/>
+(If such thou art) to manifest thee mine.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Lo here the wound (he cries) received of yore,<br/>
+The scar indented by the tusky boar,<br/>
+When, by thyself, and by Anticlea sent,<br/>
+To old Autolycus&rsquo; realms I went.<br/>
+Yet by another sign thy offspring know;<br/>
+The several trees you gave me long ago,<br/>
+While yet a child, these fields I loved to trace,<br/>
+And trod thy footsteps with unequal pace;<br/>
+To every plant in order as we came,<br/>
+Well-pleased, you told its nature and its name,<br/>
+Whate&rsquo;er my childish fancy ask&rsquo;d, bestow&rsquo;d:<br/>
+Twelve pear-trees, bowing with their pendent load,<br/>
+And ten, that red with blushing apples glow&rsquo;d;<br/>
+Full fifty purple figs; and many a row<br/>
+Of various vines that then began to blow,<br/>
+A future vintage! when the Hours produce<br/>
+Their latent buds, and Sol exalts the juice.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Smit with the signs which all his doubts explain,<br/>
+His heart within him melts; his knees sustain<br/>
+Their feeble weight no more: his arms alone<br/>
+Support him, round the loved Ulysses thrown;<br/>
+He faints, he sinks, with mighty joys oppress&rsquo;d:<br/>
+Ulysses clasps him to his eager breast.<br/>
+Soon as returning life regains its seat,<br/>
+And his breath lengthens, and his pulses beat:<br/>
+&ldquo;Yes, I believe (he cries) almighty Jove!<br/>
+Heaven rules us yet, and gods there are above.<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis so&mdash;the suitors for their wrongs have paid&mdash;<br/>
+But what shall guard us, if the town invade?<br/>
+If, while the news through every city flies,<br/>
+All Ithaca and Cephalenia rise?&rdquo;<br/>
+To this Ulysses: &ldquo;As the gods shall please<br/>
+Be all the rest: and set thy soul at ease.<br/>
+Haste to the cottage by this orchard&rsquo;s side,<br/>
+And take the banquet which our cares provide;<br/>
+There wait thy faithful band of rural friends,<br/>
+And there the young Telemachus attends.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus, having said, they traced the garden o&rsquo;er<br/>
+And stooping entered at the lowly door.<br/>
+The swains and young Telemachus they found.<br/>
+The victim portion&rsquo;d and the goblet crown&rsquo;d.<br/>
+The hoary king, his old Sicilian maid<br/>
+Perfum&rsquo;d and wash&rsquo;d, and gorgeously arrayed.<br/>
+Pallas attending gives his frame to shine<br/>
+With awful port, and majesty divine;<br/>
+His gazing son admires the godlike grace,<br/>
+And air celestial dawning o&rsquo;er his face.<br/>
+&ldquo;What god (he cried) my father&rsquo;s form improves!<br/>
+How high he treads and how enlarged he moves!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! would to all the deathless powers on high,<br/>
+Pallas and Jove, and him who gilds the sky!<br/>
+(Replied the king elated with his praise)<br/>
+My strength were still, as once in better days:<br/>
+When the bold Cephalens the leaguer form&rsquo;d.<br/>
+And proud Nericus trembled as I storm&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Such were I now, not absent from your deed<br/>
+When the last sun beheld the suitors bleed,<br/>
+This arm had aided yours, this hand bestrown<br/>
+Our shores with death, and push&rsquo;d the slaughter on;<br/>
+Nor had the sire been separate from the son.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They communed thus; while homeward bent their way<br/>
+The swains, fatigued with labours of the day:<br/>
+Dolius, the first, the venerable man;<br/>
+And next his sons, a long succeeding train.<br/>
+For due refection to the bower they came,<br/>
+Call&rsquo;d by the careful old Sicilian dame,<br/>
+Who nursed the children, and now tends the sire,<br/>
+They see their lord, they gaze, and they admire.<br/>
+On chairs and beds in order seated round,<br/>
+They share the gladsome board; the roofs resound,<br/>
+While thus Ulysses to his ancient friend:<br/>
+&ldquo;Forbear your wonder, and the feast attend:<br/>
+The rites have waited long.&rdquo; The chief commands<br/>
+Their love in vain; old Dolius spreads his hands,<br/>
+Springs to his master with a warm embrace,<br/>
+And fastens kisses on his hands and face;<br/>
+Then thus broke out: &ldquo;O long, O daily mourn&rsquo;d!<br/>
+Beyond our hopes, and to our wish return&rsquo;d!<br/>
+Conducted sure by Heaven! for Heaven alone<br/>
+Could work this wonder: welcome to thy own!<br/>
+And joys and happiness attend thy throne!<br/>
+Who knows thy bless&rsquo;d, thy wish&rsquo;d return? oh say,<br/>
+To the chaste queen shall we the news convey?<br/>
+Or hears she, and with blessings loads the day?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Dismiss that care, for to the royal bride<br/>
+Already is it known&rdquo; (the king replied,<br/>
+And straight resumed his seat); while round him bows<br/>
+Each faithful youth, and breathes out ardent vows:<br/>
+Then all beneath their father take their place,<br/>
+Rank&rsquo;d by their ages, and the banquet grace.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now flying Fame the swift report had spread<br/>
+Through all the city, of the suitors dead,<br/>
+In throngs they rise, and to the palace crowd;<br/>
+Their sighs were many and the tumult loud.<br/>
+Weeping they bear the mangled heaps of slain;<br/>
+Inhume the natives in their native plain,<br/>
+The rest in ships are wafted o&rsquo;er the main.<br/>
+Then sad in council all the seniors sate,<br/>
+Frequent and full, assembled to debate:<br/>
+Amid the circle first Eupithes rose,<br/>
+Big was his eye with tears, his heart with woes:<br/>
+The bold Antinous was his age&rsquo;s pride,<br/>
+The first who by Ulysses&rsquo; arrow died.<br/>
+Down his wan cheek the trickling torrent ran,<br/>
+As mixing words with sighs he thus began:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Great deeds, O friends! this wondrous man has wrought,<br/>
+And mighty blessings to his country brought!<br/>
+With ships he parted, and a numerous train,<br/>
+Those, and their ships, he buried in the main.<br/>
+Now he returns, and first essays his hand<br/>
+In the best blood of all his native land.<br/>
+Haste, then, and ere to neighbouring Pyle he flies,<br/>
+Or sacred Elis, to procure supplies;<br/>
+Arise (or ye for ever fall), arise!<br/>
+Shame to this age, and all that shall succeed!<br/>
+If unrevenged your sons and brothers bleed.<br/>
+Prove that we live, by vengeance on his head,<br/>
+Or sink at once forgotten with the dead.&rdquo;<br/>
+Here ceased he, but indignant tears let fall<br/>
+Spoke when he ceased: dumb sorrow touch&rsquo;d them all.<br/>
+When from the palace to the wondering throng<br/>
+Sage Medon came, and Phemius came along<br/>
+(Restless and early sleep&rsquo;s soft bands they broke);<br/>
+And Medon first the assembled chiefs bespoke;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hear me, ye peers and elders of the land,<br/>
+Who deem this act the work of mortal hand;<br/>
+As o&rsquo;er the heaps of death Ulysses strode,<br/>
+These eyes, these eyes beheld a present god,<br/>
+Who now before him, now beside him stood,<br/>
+Fought as he fought, and mark&rsquo;d his way with blood:<br/>
+In vain old Mentor&rsquo;s form the god belied;<br/>
+&rsquo;Twas Heaven that struck, and Heaven was on his side.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A sudden horror all the assembly shook,<br/>
+When slowly rising, Halitherses spoke<br/>
+(Reverend and wise, whose comprehensive view<br/>
+At once the present and the future knew):<br/>
+&ldquo;Me too, ye fathers, hear! from you proceed<br/>
+The ills ye mourn; your own the guilty deed.<br/>
+Ye gave your sons, your lawless sons, the rein<br/>
+(Oft warn&rsquo;d by Mentor and myself in vain);<br/>
+An absent hero&rsquo;s bed they sought to soil,<br/>
+An absent hero&rsquo;s wealth they made their spoil;<br/>
+Immoderate riot, and intemperate lust!<br/>
+The offence was great, the punishment was just.<br/>
+Weigh then my counsels in an equal scale,<br/>
+Nor rush to ruin. Justice will prevail.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His moderate words some better minds persuade:<br/>
+They part, and join him: but the number stay&rsquo;d.<br/>
+They storm, they shout, with hasty frenzy fired,<br/>
+And second all Eupithes&rsquo; rage inspired.<br/>
+They case their limbs in brass; to arms they run;<br/>
+The broad effulgence blazes in the sun.<br/>
+Before the city, and in ample plain,<br/>
+They meet: Eupithes heads the frantic train.<br/>
+Fierce for his son, he breathes his threats in air;<br/>
+Fate bears them not, and Death attends him there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This pass&rsquo;d on earth, while in the realms above<br/>
+Minerva thus to cloud-compelling Jove!<br/>
+&ldquo;May I presume to search thy secret soul?<br/>
+O Power Supreme, O Ruler of the whole!<br/>
+Say, hast thou doom&rsquo;d to this divided state<br/>
+Or peaceful amity or stern debate?<br/>
+Declare thy purpose, for thy will is fate.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is not thy thought my own? (the god replies<br/>
+Who rolls the thunder o&rsquo;er the vaulted skies;)<br/>
+Hath not long since thy knowing soul decreed<br/>
+The chief&rsquo;s return should make the guilty bleed.<br/>
+&rsquo;Tis done, and at thy will the Fates succeed.<br/>
+Yet hear the issue: Since Ulysses&rsquo; hand<br/>
+Has slain the suitors, Heaven shall bless the land.<br/>
+None now the kindred of the unjust shall own;<br/>
+Forgot the slaughter&rsquo;d brother and the son:<br/>
+Each future day increase of wealth shall bring,<br/>
+And o&rsquo;er the past Oblivion stretch her wing.<br/>
+Long shall Ulysses in his empire rest,<br/>
+His people blessing, by his people bless&rsquo;d.<br/>
+Let all be peace.&rdquo;&mdash;He said, and gave the nod<br/>
+That binds the Fates; the sanction of the god<br/>
+And prompt to execute the eternal will,<br/>
+Descended Pallas from the Olympian hill.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now sat Ulysses at the rural feast<br/>
+The rage of hunger and of thirst repress&rsquo;d:<br/>
+To watch the foe a trusty spy he sent:<br/>
+A son of Dolius on the message went,<br/>
+Stood in the way, and at a glance beheld<br/>
+The foe approach, embattled on the field.<br/>
+With backward step he hastens to the bower,<br/>
+And tells the news. They arm with all their power.<br/>
+Four friends alone Ulysses&rsquo; cause embrace,<br/>
+And six were all the sons of Dolius&rsquo; race:<br/>
+Old Dolius too his rusted arms put on;<br/>
+And, still more old, in arms Laertes shone.<br/>
+Trembling with warmth, the hoary heroes stand,<br/>
+And brazen panoply invests the band.<br/>
+The opening gates at once their war display:<br/>
+Fierce they rush forth: Ulysses leads the way.<br/>
+That moment joins them with celestial aid,<br/>
+In Mentor&rsquo;s form, the Jove-descended maid:<br/>
+The suffering hero felt his patient breast<br/>
+Swell with new joy, and thus his son address&rsquo;d:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Behold, Telemachus! (nor fear the sight,)<br/>
+The brave embattled, the grim front of fight!<br/>
+The valiant with the valiant must contend.<br/>
+Shame not the line whence glorious you descend.<br/>
+Wide o&rsquo;er the world their martial fame was spread;<br/>
+Regard thyself, the living and the dead.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thy eyes, great father! on this battle cast,<br/>
+Shall learn from me Penelope was chaste.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So spoke Telemachus: the gallant boy<br/>
+Good old Laertes heard with panting joy.<br/>
+&ldquo;And bless&rsquo;d! thrice bless&rsquo;d this happy day! (he cries,)<br/>
+The day that shows me, ere I close my eyes,<br/>
+A son and grandson of the Arcesian name<br/>
+Strive for fair virtue, and contest for fame!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then thus Minerva in Laertes&rsquo; ear:<br/>
+&ldquo;Son of Arcesius, reverend warrior, hear!<br/>
+Jove and Jove&rsquo;s daughter first implore in prayer,<br/>
+Then, whirling high, discharge thy lance in air.&rdquo;<br/>
+She said, infusing courage with the word.<br/>
+Jove and Jove&rsquo;s daughter then the chief implored,<br/>
+And, whirling high, dismiss&rsquo;d the lance in air.<br/>
+Full at Eupithes drove the deathful spear:<br/>
+The brass-cheek&rsquo;d helmet opens to the wound;<br/>
+He falls, earth thunders, and his arms resound.<br/>
+Before the father and the conquering son<br/>
+Heaps rush on heaps, they fight, they drop, they run<br/>
+Now by the sword, and now the javelin, fall<br/>
+The rebel race, and death had swallow&rsquo;d all;<br/>
+But from on high the blue-eyed virgin cried;<br/>
+Her awful voice detain&rsquo;d the headlong tide:<br/>
+&ldquo;Forbear, ye nations, your mad hands forbear<br/>
+From mutual slaughter; Peace descends to spare.&rdquo;<br/>
+Fear shook the nations: at the voice divine<br/>
+They drop their javelins, and their rage resign.<br/>
+All scatter&rsquo;d round their glittering weapons lie;<br/>
+Some fall to earth, and some confusedly fly.<br/>
+With dreadful shouts Ulysses pour&rsquo;d along,<br/>
+Swift as an eagle, as an eagle strong.<br/>
+But Jove&rsquo;s red arm the burning thunder aims:<br/>
+Before Minerva shot the livid flames;<br/>
+Blazing they fell, and at her feet expired;<br/>
+Then stopped the goddess, trembled and retired.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Descended from the gods! Ulysses, cease;<br/>
+Offend not Jove: obey, and give the peace.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So Pallas spoke: the mandate from above<br/>
+The king obey&rsquo;d. The virgin-seed of Jove,<br/>
+In Mentor&rsquo;s form, confirm&rsquo;d the full accord,<br/>
+And willing nations knew their lawful lord.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Odyssey of Homer, trans. by Alexander Pope
+#6 in our series by Homer
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
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+Title: The Odyssey of Homer
+
+Author: Homer, translated by Alexander Pope
+
+Release Date: April, 2002 [EBook #3160]
+[This 11th edition first posted on June 1, 2003]
+[Last updated: March 30, 2018]
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+Edition: 11
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+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ODYSSEY OF HOMER ***
+
+
+
+
+This etext was prepared by Jim Tinsley <jtinsley@pobox.com>
+with much help from the early members of Distributed Proofers.
+
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+Scepticism is as much the result of knowledge, as knowledge is of
+scepticism. To be content with what we at present know, is, for the
+most part, to shut our ears against conviction; since, from the very
+gradual character of our education, we must continually forget, and
+emancipate ourselves from, knowledge previously acquired; we must set
+aside old notions and embrace fresh ones; and, as we learn, we must
+be daily unlearning something which it has cost us no small labour
+and anxiety to acquire.
+
+And this difficulty attaches itself more closely to an age in which
+progress has gained a strong ascendency over prejudice, and in which
+persons and things are, day by day, finding their real level, in lieu
+of their conventional value. The same principles which have swept
+away traditional abuses, and which are making rapid havoc among the
+revenues of sinecurists, and stripping the thin, tawdry veil from
+attractive superstitions, are working as actively in literature as in
+society. The credulity of one writer, or the partiality of another,
+finds as powerful a touchstone and as wholesome a chastisement in the
+healthy scepticism of a temperate class of antagonists, as the dreams
+of conservatism, or the impostures of pluralist sinecures in the
+Church.  History and tradition, whether of ancient or comparatively
+recent times, are subjected to very different handling from that
+which the indulgence or credulity of former ages could allow. Mere
+statements are jealously watched, and the motives of the writer form
+as important an ingredient in the analysis or his history, as the
+facts he records. Probability is a powerful and troublesome test; and
+it is by this troublesome standard that a large portion of historical
+evidence is sifted. Consistency is no less pertinacious and exacting
+in its demands. In brief, to write a history, we must know more than
+mere facts. Human nature, viewed under an introduction of extended
+experience, is the best help to the criticism of human history.
+Historical characters can only be estimated by the standard which
+human experience, whether actual or traditionary, has furnished. To
+form correct views of individuals we must regard them as forming
+parts of a great whole--we must measure them by their relation to the
+mass of beings by whom they are surrounded; and, in contemplating the
+incidents in their lives or condition which tradition has handed down
+to us, we must rather consider the general bearing of the whole
+narrative, than the respective probability of its details.
+
+It is unfortunate for us, that, of some of the greatest men, we know
+least, and talk most. Homer, Socrates, and Shakespere have, perhaps,
+contributed more to the intellectual enlightenment of mankind than
+any other three writers who could be named, and yet the history of
+all three has given rise to a boundless ocean of discussion, which
+has left us little save the option of choosing which theory or
+theories we will follow. The personality of Shakespere is, perhaps,
+the only thing in which critics will allow us to believe without
+controversy; but upon everything else, even down to the authorship of
+plays, there is more or less of doubt and uncertainty. Of Socrates we
+know as little as the contradictions of Plato and Xenophon will allow
+us to know. He was one of the dramatis personae in two dramas as
+unlike in principles as in style. He appears as the enunciator of
+opinions as different in their tone as those of the writers who have
+handed them down. When we have read Plato or Xenophon, we think we
+know something of Socrates; when we have fairly read and examined
+both, we feel convinced that we are something worse than ignorant.
+
+It has been an easy, and a popular expedient of late years, to deny
+the personal or real existence of men and things whose life and
+condition were too much for our belief. This system--which has often
+comforted the religious sceptic, and substituted the consolations of
+Strauss for those of the New Testament--has been of incalculable
+value to the historical theorists of the last and present centuries.
+To question the existence of Alexander the Great, would be a more
+excusable act, than to believe in that of Romulus. To deny a fact
+related in Herodotus, because it is inconsistent with a theory
+developed from an Assyrian inscription which no two scholars read in
+the same way, is more pardonable, than to believe in the good-natured
+old king whom the elegant pen of Florian has idealized--Numa
+Pompilius.
+
+Scepticism has attained its culminating point with respect to Homer,
+and the state of our Homeric knowledge may be described as a free
+permission to believe any theory, provided we throw overboard all
+written tradition, concerning the author or authors of the Iliad and
+Odyssey.  What few authorities exist on the subject, are summarily
+dismissed, although the arguments appear to run in a circle. "This
+cannot be true, because it is not true; and that is not true, because
+it cannot be true." Such seems to be the style, in which testimony
+upon testimony, statement upon statement, is consigned to denial and
+oblivion.
+
+It is, however, unfortunate that the professed biographies of Homer
+are partly forgeries, partly freaks of ingenuity and imagination, in
+which truth is the requisite most wanting. Before taking a brief
+review of the Homeric theory in its present conditions, some notice
+must be taken of the treatise on the Life of Homer which has been
+attributed to Herodotus.
+
+According to this document, the city of Cumae in AEolia was, at an
+early period, the seat of frequent immigrations from various parts of
+Greece.  Among the immigrants was Menapolus, the son of Ithagenes.
+Although poor, he married, and the result of the union was a girl
+named Critheis. The girl was left an orphan at an early age, under
+the guardianship of Cleanax, of Argos. It is to the indiscretion of
+this maiden that we "are indebted for so much happiness." Homer was
+the first fruit of her juvenile frailty, and received the name of
+Melesigenes from having been born near the river Meles in Boeotia,
+whither Critheis had been transported in order to save her
+reputation.
+
+"At this time," continues our narrative, "there lived at Smyrna a man
+named Phemius, a teacher of literature and music, who, not being
+married, engaged Critheis to manage his household, and spin the flax
+he received as the price of his scholastic labours. So satisfactory
+was her performance of this task, and so modest her conduct, that he
+made proposals of marriage, declaring himself, as a further
+inducement, willing to adopt her son, who, he asserted, would become
+a clever man, if he were carefully brought up."
+
+They were married; careful cultivation ripened the talents which
+nature had bestowed, and Melesigenes soon surpassed his schoolfellows
+in every attainment, and, when older, rivalled his preceptor in
+wisdom. Phemius died, leaving him sole heir to his property, and his
+mother soon followed. Melesigenes carried on his adopted father's
+school with great success, exciting the admiration not only of the
+inhabitants of Smyrna, but also of the strangers whom the trade
+carried on there, especially in the exportation of corn, attracted to
+that city. Among these visitors, one Mentes, from Leucadia, the
+modern Santa Maura, who evinced a knowledge and intelligence rarely
+found in those times, persuaded Melesigenes to close his school, and
+accompany him on his travels. He promised not only to pay his
+expenses, but to furnish him with a further stipend, urging, that,
+"While he was yet young, it was fitting that he should see with his
+own eyes the countries and cities which might hereafter be the
+subjects of his discourses." Melesigenes consented, and set out with
+his patron, "examining all the curiosities of the countries they
+visited, and informing himself of everything by interrogating those
+whom he met." We may also suppose, that he wrote memoirs of all that
+he deemed worthy of preservation. Having set sail from Tyrrhenia and
+Iberia, they reached Ithaca. Here Melesigenes, who had already
+suffered in his eyes, became much worse; and Mentes, who was about to
+leave for Leucadia, left him to the medical superintendence of a
+friend of his, named Mentor, the son of Alcinor. Under his hospitable
+and intelligent host, Melesigenes rapidly became acquainted with the
+legends respecting Ulysses, which afterwards formed the subject of
+the Odyssey. The inhabitants of Ithaca assert, that it was here that
+Melesigenes became blind, but the Colophonians make their city the
+seat of that misfortune.  He then returned to Smyrna, where he
+applied himself to the study of poetry.
+
+But poverty soon drove him to Cumae. Having passed over the Hermaean
+plain, he arrived at Neon Teichos, the New Wall, a colony of Cumae.
+Here his misfortunes and poetical talent gained him the friendship of
+one Tychias, an armourer. "And up to my time," continues the author,
+"the inhabitants showed the place where he used to sit when giving a
+recitation of his verses; and they greatly honoured the spot. Here
+also a poplar grew, which they said had sprung up ever since
+Melesigenes arrived."
+
+But poverty still drove him on, and he went by way of Larissa, as
+being the most convenient road. Here, the Cumans say, he composed an
+epitaph on Gordius, king of Phrygia, which has however, and with
+greater probability, been attributed to Cleobulus of Lindus.
+
+Arrived at Cumae, he frequented the conversaziones of the old men,
+and delighted all by the charms of his poetry. Encouraged by this
+favourable reception, he declared that, if they would allow him a
+public maintenance, he would render their city most gloriously
+renowned. They avowed their willingness to support him in the measure
+he proposed, and procured him an audience in the council. Having made
+the speech, with the purport of which our author has forgotten to
+acquaint us, he retired, and left them to debate respecting the
+answer to be given to his proposal.
+
+The greater part of the assembly seemed favourable to the poet's
+demand, but one man "observed that if they were to feed Homers, they
+would be encumbered with a multitude of useless people." "From this
+circumstance," says the writer, "Melesigenes acquired the name of
+Homer, for the Cumans call blind men Homers." With a love of economy,
+which shows how similar the world has always been in its treatment of
+literary men, the pension was denied, and the poet vented his
+disappointment in a wish that Cumae might never produce a poet
+capable of giving it renown and glory.
+
+At Phocaea Homer was destined to experience another literary
+distress.  One Thestorides, who aimed at the reputation of poetical
+genius, kept Homer in his own house, and allowed him a pittance, on
+condition of the verses of the poet passing in his name. Having
+collected sufficient poetry to be profitable, Thestorides, like some
+would-be literary publishers, neglected the man whose brains he had
+sucked, and left him.  At his departure, Homer is said to have
+observed: "O Thestorides, of the many things hidden from the
+knowledge of man, nothing is more unintelligible than the human
+heart."
+
+Homer continued his career of difficulty and distress, until some
+Chian merchants, struck by the similarity of the verses they heard
+him recite, acquainted him with the fact that Thestorides was
+pursuing a profitable livelihood by the recital of the very same
+poems. This at once determined him to set out for Chios. No vessel
+happened then to be setting sail thither, but he found one ready to
+start for Erythrae, a town of Ionia, which faces that island, and he
+prevailed upon the seamen to allow him to accompany them. Having
+embarked, he invoked a favourable wind, and prayed that he might be
+able to expose the imposture of Thestorides, who, by his breach of
+hospitality, had drawn down the wrath of Jove the Hospitable.
+
+At Erythrae, Homer fortunately met with a person who had known him in
+Phocaea, by whose assistance he at length, after some difficulty,
+reached the little hamlet of Pithys. Here he met with an adventure,
+which we will continue in the words of our author. "Having set out
+from Pithys, Homer went on, attracted by the cries of some goats that
+were pasturing. The dogs barked on his approach, and he cried out.
+Glaucus (for that was the name of the goat-herd) heard his voice, ran
+up quickly, called off his dogs, and drove them away from Homer. For
+some time he stood wondering how a blind man should have reached such
+a place alone, and what could be his design in coming. He then went
+up to him and inquired who he was, and how he had come to desolate
+places and untrodden spots, and of what he stood in need. Homer, by
+recounting to him the whole history of his misfortunes, moved him
+with compassion; and he took him and led him to his cot, and, having
+lit a fire, bade him sup.
+
+"The dogs, instead of eating, kept barking at the stranger, according
+to their usual habit. Whereupon Homer addressed Glaucus thus: O
+Glaucus, my friend, prythee attend to my behest. First give the dogs
+their supper at the doors of the hut: for so it is better, since,
+whilst they watch, nor thief nor wild beast will approach the fold.
+
+"Glaucus was pleased with the advice and marvelled at its author.
+Having finished supper, they banqueted afresh on conversation, Homer
+narrating his wanderings, and telling of the cities he had visited.
+
+"At length they retired to rest; but on the following morning,
+Glaucus resolved to go to his master, and acquaint him with his
+meeting with Homer. Having left the goats in charge of a
+fellow-servant, he left Homer at home, promising to return quickly.
+Having arrived at Bolissus, a place near the farm, and finding his
+mate, he told him the whole story respecting Homer and his journey.
+He paid little attention to what he said, and blamed Glaucus for his
+stupidity in taking in and feeding maimed and enfeebled persons.
+However, he bade him bring the stranger to him.
+
+"Glaucus told Homer what had taken place, and bade him follow him,
+assuring him that good fortune would be the result. Conversation soon
+showed that the stranger was a man of much cleverness and general
+knowledge, and the Chian persuaded him to remain, and to undertake
+the charge of his children."
+
+Besides the satisfaction of driving the impostor Thestorides from the
+island, Homer enjoyed considerable success as a teacher. In the town
+of Chios he established a school, where he taught the precepts of
+poetry.  "To this day," says Chandler, "the most curious remain is
+that which has been named, without reason, the School of Homer. It is
+on the coast, at some distance from the city, northward, and appears
+to have been an open temple of Cybele, formed on the top of a rock.
+The shape is oval, and in the centre is the image of the goddess, the
+head and an arm wanting. She is represented, as usual, sitting. The
+chair has a lion carved on each side, and on the back. The area is
+bounded by a low rim, or seat, and about five yards over. The whole
+is hewn out of the mountain, is rude, indistinct, and probably of the
+most remote antiquity."
+
+So successful was this school, that Homer realised a considerable
+fortune. He married, and had two daughters, one of whom died single,
+the other married a Chian.
+
+The following passage betrays the same tendency to connect the
+personages of the poems with the history of the poet, which has
+already been mentioned:--
+
+"In his poetical compositions Homer displays great gratitude towards
+Mentor of Ithaca, in the Odyssey, whose name he has inserted in his
+poem as the companion of Ulysses, in return for the care taken of him
+when afflicted with blindness. He also testifies his gratitude to
+Phemius, who had given him both sustenance and instruction."
+
+His celebrity continued to increase, and many persons advised him to
+visit Greece whither his reputation had now extended. Having, it is
+said, made some additions to his poems calculated to please the
+vanity of the Athenians, of whose city he had hitherto made no
+mention, he set out for Samos. Here, being recognized by a Samian,
+who had met with him in Chios, he was handsomely received, and
+invited to join in celebrating the Apaturian festival. He recited
+some verses, which gave great satisfaction, and by singing the
+Eiresione at the New Moon festivals, he earned a subsistence,
+visiting the houses of the rich, with whose children he was very
+popular.
+
+In the spring he sailed for Athens, and arrived at the island of Ios,
+now Ino, where he fell extremely ill, and died. It is said that his
+death arose from vexation, at not having been able to unravel an
+enigma proposed by some fishermen's children.
+
+Such is, in brief, the substance of the earliest life of Homer we
+possess, and so broad are the evidences of its historical
+worthlessness, that it is scarcely necessary to point them out in
+detail. Let us now consider some of the opinions to which a
+persevering, patient, and learned--but by no means consistent--series
+of investigations has led.  In doing so, I profess to bring forward
+statements, not to vouch for their reasonableness or probability.
+
+"Homer appeared. The history of this poet and his works is lost in
+doubtful obscurity, as is the history of many of the first minds who
+have done honour to humanity, because they rose amidst darkness. The
+majestic stream of his song, blessing and fertilizing, flows like the
+Nile, through many lands and nations; and, like the sources of the
+Nile, its fountains will ever remain concealed."
+
+Such are the words in which one of the most judicious German critics
+has eloquently described the uncertainty in which the whole of the
+Homeric question is involved. With no less truth and feeling he
+proceeds:--
+
+"It seems here of chief importance to expect no more than the nature
+of things makes possible. If the period of tradition in history is
+the region of twilight, we should not expect in it perfect light. The
+creations of genius always seem like miracles, because they are, for
+the most part, created far out of the reach of observation. If we
+were in possession of all the historical testimonies, we never could
+wholly explain the origin of the Iliad and the Odyssey; for their
+origin, in all essential points, must have remained the secret of the
+poet."
+
+From this criticism, which shows as much insight into the depths of
+human nature as into the minute wire-drawings of scholastic
+investigation, let us pass on to the main question at issue. Was
+Homer an individual? or were the Iliad and Odyssey the result of an
+ingenious arrangement of fragments by earlier poets?
+
+Well has Landor remarked: "Some tell us there were twenty Homers;
+some deny that there was ever one. It were idle and foolish to shake
+the contents of a vase, in order to let them settle at last. We are
+perpetually labouring to destroy our delights, our composure, our
+devotion to superior power. Of all the animals on earth we least know
+what is good for us. My opinion is, that what is best for us is our
+admiration of good. No man living venerates Homer more than I do."
+
+But, greatly as we admire the generous enthusiasm which rests
+contented with the poetry on which its best impulses had been
+nurtured and fostered, without seeking to destroy the vividness of
+first impressions by minute analysis, our editorial office compels us
+to give some attention to the doubts and difficulties with which the
+Homeric question is beset, and to entreat our reader, for a brief
+period, to prefer his judgment to his imagination, and to condescend
+to dry details. Before, however, entering into particulars respecting
+the question of this unity of the Homeric poems, (at least of the
+Iliad,) I must express my sympathy with the sentiments expressed in
+the following remarks:--
+
+"We cannot but think the universal admiration of its unity by the
+better, the poetic age of Greece, almost conclusive testimony to its
+original composition. It was not till the age of the grammarians that
+its primitive integrity was called in question; nor is it injustice
+to assert, that the minute and analytical spirit of a grammarian is
+not the best qualification for the profound feeling, the
+comprehensive conception of an harmonious whole. The most exquisite
+anatomist may be no judge of the symmetry of the human frame; and we
+would take the opinion of Chantrey or Westmacott on the proportions
+and general beauty of a form, rather than that of Mr. Brodie or Sir
+Astley Cooper.
+
+"There is some truth, though some malicious exaggeration, in the lines
+of Pope:--
+
+    "'The critic eye--that microscope of wit--
+    Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit;
+    How parts relate to parts, or they to whole.
+    The body's harmony, the beaming soul,
+    Are things which Kuster, Burmann, Wasse, shall see,
+    When man's whole frame is obvious to a flea.'"
+
+Long was the time which elapsed before any one dreamt of questioning
+the unity of the authorship of the Homeric poems. The grave and
+cautious Thucydides quoted without hesitation the Hymn to Apollo, the
+authenticity of which has been already disclaimed by modern critics.
+Longinus, in an oft-quoted passage, merely expressed an opinion
+touching the comparative inferiority of the Odyssey to the Iliad;
+and, among a mass of ancient authors, whose very names it would be
+tedious to detail, no suspicion of the personal non-existence of
+Homer ever arose. So far, the voice of antiquity seems to be in
+favour of our early ideas on the subject: let us now see what are the
+discoveries to which more modern investigations lay claim.
+
+At the end of the seventeenth century, doubts had begun to awaken on
+the subject, and we find Bentley remarking that "Homer wrote a sequel
+of songs and rhapsodies, to be sung by himself, for small comings and
+good cheer, at festivals and other days of merriment. These loose
+songs were not collected together, in the form of an epic poem, till
+about Peisistratus' time, about five hundred years after."
+
+Two French writers--Hedelin and Perrault--avowed a similar scepticism
+on the subject; but it is in the "Scienza Nuova" of Battista Vico,
+that we first meet with the germ of the theory, subsequently defended
+by Wolf with so much learning and acuteness. Indeed, it is with the
+Wolfian theory that we have chiefly to deal, and with the following
+bold hypothesis, which we will detail in the words of Grote:--
+
+"Half a century ago, the acute and valuable Prolegomena of F. A.
+Wolf, turning to account the Venetian Scholia, which had then been
+recently published, first opened philosophical discussion as to the
+history of the Homeric text. A considerable part of that dissertation
+(though by no means the whole) is employed in vindicating the
+position, previously announced by Bentley, amongst others, that the
+separate constituent portions of the Iliad and Odyssey had not been
+cemented together into any compact body and unchangeable order, until
+the days of Peisistratus, in the sixth century before Christ. As a
+step towards that conclusion, Wolf maintained that no written copies
+of either poem could be shown to have existed during the earlier
+times, to which their composition is referred; and that without
+writing, neither the perfect symmetry of so complicated a work could
+have been originally conceived by any poet, nor, if realized by him,
+transmitted with assurance to posterity. The absence of easy and
+convenient writing, such as must be indispensably supposed for long
+manuscripts, among the early Greeks, was thus one of the points in
+Wolf's case against the primitive integrity of the Iliad and Odyssey.
+By Nitzsch, and other leading opponents of Wolf, the connection of
+the one with the other seems to have been accepted as he originally
+put it; and it has been considered incumbent on those who defended
+the ancient aggregate character of the Iliad and Odyssey, to maintain
+that they were written poems from the beginning.
+
+"To me it appears, that the architectonic functions ascribed by Wolf
+to Peisistratus and his associates, in reference to the Homeric
+poems, are nowise admissible. But much would undoubtedly be gained
+towards that view of the question, if it could be shown, that, in
+order to controvert it, we were driven to the necessity of admitting
+long written poems, in the ninth century before the Christian aera.
+Few things, in my opinion, can be more improbable; and Mr. Payne
+Knight, opposed as he is to the Wolfian hypothesis, admits this no
+less than Wolf himself. The traces of writing in Greece, even in the
+seventh century before the Christian aera, are exceedingly trifling.
+We have no remaining inscription earlier than the fortieth Olympiad,
+and the early inscriptions are rude and unskilfully executed; nor can
+we even assure ourselves whether Archilochus, Simonides of Amorgus,
+Kallinus Tyrtaeus, Xanthus, and the other early elegiac and lyric
+poets, committed their compositions to writing, or at what time the
+practice of doing so became familiar. The first positive ground which
+authorizes us to presume the existence of a manuscript of Homer, is
+in the famous ordinance of Solon, with regard to the rhapsodies at
+the Panathenaea: but for what length of time previously manuscripts
+had existed, we are unable to say.
+
+"Those who maintain the Homeric poems to have been written from the
+beginning, rest their case, not upon positive proofs, nor yet upon the
+existing habits of society with regard to poetry--for they admit
+generally that the Iliad and Odyssey were not read, but recited and
+heard,--but upon the supposed necessity that there must have been
+manuscripts to ensure the preservation of the poems--the unassisted
+memory of reciters being neither sufficient nor trustworthy. But here
+we only escape a smaller difficulty by running into a greater; for the
+existence of trained bards, gifted with extraordinary memory, is far
+less astonishing than that of long manuscripts, in an age essentially
+non-reading and non-writing, and when even suitable instruments and
+materials for the process are not obvious. Moreover, there is a strong
+positive reason for believing that the bard was under no necessity of
+refreshing his memory by consulting a manuscript; for if such had been
+the fact, blindness would have been a disqualification for the
+profession, which we know that it was not, as well from the example of
+Demodokus, in the Odyssey, as from that of the blind bard of Chios, in
+the Hymn to the Delian Apollo, whom Thucydides, as well as the general
+tenor of Grecian legend, identifies with Homer himself. The author of
+that hymn, be he who he may, could never have described a blind man as
+attaining the utmost perfection in his art, if he had been conscious
+that the memory of the bard was only maintained by constant reference
+to the manuscript in his chest."
+
+The loss of the digamma, that crux of critics, that quicksand upon
+which even the acumen of Bentley was shipwrecked, seems to prove
+beyond a doubt, that the pronunciation of the Greek language had
+undergone a considerable change. Now it is certainly difficult to
+suppose that the Homeric poems could have suffered by this change,
+had written copies been preserved. If Chaucer's poetry, for instance,
+had not been written, it could only have come down to us in a
+softened form, more like the effeminate version of Dryden, than the
+rough, quaint, noble original.  "At what period," continues Grote,
+"these poems, or indeed any other Greek poems, first began to be
+written, must be matter of conjecture, though there is ground for
+assurance that it was before the time of Solon. If, in the absence of
+evidence, we may venture upon naming any more determinate period, the
+question at once suggests itself, What were the purposes which, in
+that state of society, a manuscript at its first commencement must
+have been intended to answer? For whom was a written Iliad necessary?
+Not for the rhapsodes; for with them it was not only planted in the
+memory, but also interwoven with the feelings, and conceived in
+conjunction with all those flexions and intonations of voice, pauses,
+and other oral artifices which were required for emphatic delivery,
+and which the naked manuscript could never reproduce. Not for the
+general public--they were accustomed to receive it with its rhapsodic
+delivery, and with its accompaniments of a solemn and crowded
+festival. The only persons for whom the written Iliad would be
+suitable would be a select few; studious and curious men; a class of
+readers capable of analyzing the complicated emotions which they had
+experienced as hearers in the crowd, and who would, on perusing the
+written words, realize in their imaginations a sensible portion of
+the impression communicated by the reciter. Incredible as the
+statement may seem in an age like the present, there is in all early
+societies, and there was in early Greece, a time when no such reading
+class existed. If we could discover at what time such a class first
+began to be formed, we should be able to make a guess at the time
+when the old epic poems were first committed to writing. Now the
+period which may with the greatest probability be fixed upon as
+having first witnessed the formation even of the narrowest reading
+class in Greece, is the middle of the seventh century before the
+Christian aera (B.C. 660 to B.C. 630), the age of Terpander,
+Kallinus, Archilochus, Simenides of Amorgus, &c. I ground this
+supposition on the change then operated in the character and
+tendencies of Grecian poetry and music--the elegiac and the iambic
+measures having been introduced as rivals to the primitive hexameter,
+and poetical compositions having been transferred from the epical
+past to the affairs of present and real life. Such a change was
+important at a time when poetry was the only known mode of
+publication (to use a modern phrase not altogether suitable, yet the
+nearest approaching to the sense). It argued a new way of looking at
+the old epical treasures of the people, as well as a thirst for new
+poetical effect; and the men who stood forward in it may well be
+considered as desirous to study, and competent to criticize, from
+their own individual point of view, the written words of the Homeric
+rhapsodies, just as we are told that Kallinus both noticed and
+eulogized the Thebais as the production of Homer. There seems,
+therefore, ground for conjecturing that (for the use of this
+newly-formed and important, but very narrow class), manuscripts of
+the Homeric poems and other old epics,--the Thebais and the Cypria,
+as well as the Iliad and the Odyssey,--began to be compiled towards
+the middle of the seventh century B.C. I; and the opening of Egypt to
+Grecian commerce, which took place about the same period, would
+furnish increased facilities for obtaining the requisite papyrus to
+write upon. A reading class, when once formed, would doubtless slowly
+increase, and the number of manuscripts along with it: so that before
+the time of Solon, fifty years afterwards, both readers and
+manuscripts, though still comparatively few, might have attained a
+certain recognized authority, and formed a tribunal of reference
+against the carelessness of individual rhapsodies."
+
+But even Peisistratus has not been suffered to remain in possession
+of the credit, and we cannot help feeling the force of the following
+observations:--
+
+"There are several incidental circumstances which, in our opinion,
+throw some suspicion over the whole history of the Peisistratid
+compilation, at least over the theory that the Iliad was cast into
+its present stately and harmonious form by the directions of the
+Athenian ruler. If the great poets, who flourished at the bright
+period of Grecian song, of which, alas! we have inherited little more
+than the fame, and the faint echo; if Stesichorus, Anacreon, and
+Simonides were employed in the noble task of compiling the Iliad and
+Odyssey, so much must have been done to arrange, to connect, to
+harmonize, that it is almost incredible that stronger marks of
+Athenian manufacture should not remain. Whatever occasional anomalies
+may be detected, anomalies which no doubt arise out of our own
+ignorance of the language of the Homeric age; however the irregular
+use of the digamma may have perplexed our Bentleys, to whom the name
+of Helen is said to have caused as much disquiet and distress as the
+fair one herself among the heroes of her age; however Mr. Knight may
+have failed in reducing the Homeric language to its primitive form;
+however, finally, the Attic dialect may not have assumed all its more
+marked and distinguishing characteristics:--still it is difficult to
+suppose that the language, particularly in the joinings and
+transitions, and connecting parts, should not more clearly betray the
+incongruity between the more ancient and modern forms of expression.
+It is not quite in character with such a period to imitate an antique
+style, in order to piece out an imperfect poem in the character of
+the original, as Sir Walter Scott has done in his continuation of Sir
+Tristram.
+
+"If, however, not even such faint and indistinct traces of Athenian
+compilation are discoverable in the language of the poems, the total
+absence of Athenian national feeling is perhaps no less worthy of
+observation. In later, and it may fairly be suspected in earlier
+times, the Athenians were more than ordinarily jealous of the fame of
+their ancestors. But, amid all the traditions of the glories of early
+Greece embodied in the Iliad, the Athenians play a most subordinate
+and insignificant part. Even the few passages which relate to their
+ancestors, Mr. Knight suspects to be interpolations. It is possible,
+indeed, that in its leading outline, the Iliad may be true to
+historic fact; that in the great maritime expedition of western
+Greece against the rival and half-kindred empire of the
+Laomedontiadae, the chieftain of Thessaly, from his valour and the
+number of his forces, may have been the most important ally of the
+Peloponnesian sovereign: the pre-eminent value of the ancient poetry
+on the Trojan war may thus have forced the national feeling of the
+Athenians to yield to their taste. The songs which spoke of their own
+great ancestor were, no doubt, of far inferior sublimity and
+popularity, or, at first sight, a Theseid would have been much more
+likely to have emanated from an Athenian synod of compilers of
+ancient song, than an Achilleid or an Odysseid. Could France have
+given birth to a Tasso, Tancred would have been the hero of the
+Jerusalem. If, however, the Homeric ballads, as they are sometimes
+called, which related the wrath of Achilles, with all its direful
+consequences, were so far superior to the rest of the poetic cycle,
+as to admit no rivalry,--it is still surprising, that throughout the
+whole poem the callida junctura should never betray the workmanship
+of an Athenian hand; and that the national spirit of a race, who have
+at a later period not inaptly been compared to our self-admiring
+neighbours, the French, should submit with lofty self-denial to the
+almost total exclusion of their own ancestors--or, at least, to the
+questionable dignity of only having produced a leader tolerably
+skilled in the military tactics of his age."
+
+To return to the Wolfian theory. While it is to be confessed, that
+Wolf's objections to the primitive integrity of the Iliad and Odyssey
+have never been wholly got over, we cannot help discovering that they
+have failed to enlighten us as to any substantial point, and that the
+difficulties with which the whole subject is beset, are rather
+augmented than otherwise, if we admit his hypothesis. Nor is
+Lachmann's modification of his theory any better. He divides the
+first twenty-two books of the Iliad into sixteen different songs, and
+treats as ridiculous the belief that their amalgamation into one
+regular poem belongs to a period earlier than the age of
+Peisistratus. This as Grote observes, "ex-plains the gaps and
+contradictions in the narrative, but it explains nothing else."
+Moreover, we find no contradictions warranting this belief, and the
+so-called sixteen poets concur in getting rid of the following
+leading men in the first battle after the secession of Achilles:
+Elphenor, chief of the Euboeans; Tlepolemus, of the Rhodians;
+Pandarus, of the Lycians; Odins, of the Halizonians:  Pirous and
+Acamas, of the Thracians. None of these heroes again make their
+appearance, and we can but agree with Colonel Mure, that "it seems
+strange that any number of independent poets should have so
+harmoniously dispensed with the services of all six in the sequel."
+The discrepancy, by which Pylaemenes, who is represented as dead in
+the fifth book, weeps at his son's funeral in the thirteenth, can
+only be regarded as the result of an interpolation.
+
+Grote, although not very distinct in stating his own opinions on the
+subject, has done much to clearly show the incongruity of the Wolfian
+theory, and of Lachmann's modifications, with the character of
+Peisistratus. But he has also shown, and we think with equal success,
+that the two questions relative to the primitive unity of these
+poems, or, supposing that impossible, the unison of these parts by
+Peisistratus, and not before his time, are essentially distinct. In
+short, "a man may believe the Iliad to have been put together out of
+pre-existing songs, without recognising the age of Peisistratus as
+the period of its first compilation." The friends or literary
+/employes/ of Peisistratus must have found an Iliad that was already
+ancient, and the silence of the Alexandrine critics respecting the
+Peisistratic "recension," goes far to prove, that, among the numerous
+manuscripts they examined, this was either wanting, or thought
+unworthy of attention.
+
+"Moreover," he continues, "the whole tenor of the poems themselves
+confirms what is here remarked. There is nothing, either in the Iliad
+or Odyssey, which savours of modernism, applying that term to the age
+of Peisistratus--nothing which brings to our view the alterations
+brought about by two centuries, in the Greek language, the coined
+money, the habits of writing and reading, the despotisms and
+republican governments, the close military array, the improved
+construction of ships, the Amphiktyonic convocations, the mutual
+frequentation of religious festivals, the Oriental and Egyptian veins
+of religion, &c., familiar to the latter epoch. These alterations
+Onomakritus, and the other literary friends of Peisistratus, could
+hardly have failed to notice, even without design, had they then, for
+the first time, undertaken the task of piecing together many
+self-existent epics into one large aggregate. Everything in the two
+great Homeric poems, both in substance and in language, belongs to an
+age two or three centuries earlier than Peisistratus. Indeed, even
+the interpolations (or those passages which, on the best grounds, are
+pronounced to be such) betray no trace of the sixth century before
+Christ, and may well have been heard by Archilochus and Kallinus--in
+some cases even by Arktinus and Hesiod--as genuine Homeric matter. As
+far as the evidences on the case, as well internal as external,
+enable us to judge, we seem warranted in believing that the Iliad and
+Odyssey were recited substantially as they now stand (always allowing
+for partial divergences of text and interpolations) in 776 B.C., our
+first trustworthy mark of Grecian time; and this ancient date, let it
+be added, as it is the best-authenticated fact, so it is also the
+most important attribute of the Homeric poems, considered in
+reference to Grecian history; for they thus afford us an insight into
+the anti-historical character of the Greeks, enabling us to trace the
+subsequent forward march of the nation, and to seize instructive
+contrasts between their former and their later condition."
+
+On the whole, I am inclined to believe, that the labours of
+Peisistratus were wholly of an editorial character, although I must
+confess that I can lay down nothing respecting the extent of his
+labours. At the same time, so far from believing that the composition
+or primary arrangement of these poems, in their present form, was the
+work of Peisistratus, I am rather persuaded that the fine taste and
+elegant, mind of that Athenian would lead him to preserve an ancient
+and traditional order of the poems, rather than to patch and
+reconstruct them according to a fanciful hypothesis. I will not
+repeat the many discussions respecting whether the poems were written
+or not, or whether the art of writing was known in the time of their
+reputed author. Suffice it to say, that the more we read, the less
+satisfied we are upon either subject.
+
+I cannot, however, help thinking, that the story which attributes the
+preservation of these poems to Lycurgus, is little else than a
+version of the same story as that of Peisistratus, while its
+historical probability must be measured by that of many others
+relating to the Spartan Confucius.
+
+I will conclude this sketch of the Homeric theories with an attempt,
+made by an ingenious friend, to unite them into something like
+consistency. It is as follows:--
+
+"No doubt the common soldiers of that age had, like the common
+sailors of some fifty years ago, some one qualified to 'discourse in
+excellent music' among them. Many of these, like those of the negroes
+in the United States, were extemporaneous, and allusive to events
+passing around them. But what was passing around them? The grand
+events of a spirit-stirring war; occurrences likely to impress
+themselves, as the mystical legends of former times had done, upon
+their memory; besides which, a retentive memory was deemed a virtue
+of the first water, and was cultivated accordingly in those ancient
+times. Ballads at first, and down to the beginning of the war with
+Troy, were merely recitations, with an intonation. Then followed a
+species of recitative, probably with an intoned burden. Tune next
+followed, as it aided the memory considerably.
+
+"It was at this period, about four hundred years after the war, that
+a poet flourished of the name of Melesigenes, or Moeonides, but most
+probably the former. He saw that these ballads might be made of great
+utility to his purpose of writing a poem on the social position of
+Hellas, and, as a collection, he published these lays connecting them
+by a tale of his own. This poem now exists, under the title of the
+'Odyssea.' The author, however, did not affix his own name to the
+poem, which, in fact, was, great part of it, remodelled from the
+archaic dialect of Crete, in which tongue the ballads were found by
+him. He therefore called it the poem of Homeros, or the Collector;
+but this is rather a proof of his modesty and talent, than of his
+mere drudging arrangement of other people's ideas; for, as Grote has
+finely observed, arguing for the unity of authorship, 'a great poet
+might have re-cast pre-existing separate songs into one comprehensive
+whole; but no mere arrangers or compilers would be competent to do
+so.'
+
+"While employed on the wild legend of Odysseus, he met with a ballad,
+recording the quarrel of Achilles and Agamemnon. His noble mind
+seized the hint that there presented itself, and the Achilleis grew
+under his hand. Unity of design, however, caused him to publish the
+poem under the same pseudonyme as his former work; and the disjointed
+lays of the ancient bards were joined together, like those relating
+to the Cid, into a chronicle history, named the Iliad. Melesigenes
+knew that the poem was destined to be a lasting one, and so it has
+proved; but, first, the poems were destined to undergo many
+vicissitudes and corruptions, by the people who took to singing them
+in the streets, assemblies, and agoras.  However, Solon first, and
+then Peisistratus, and afterwards Aristoteles and others, revised the
+poems, and restored the works of Melesigenes Homeros to their
+original integrity in a great measure."
+
+Having thus given some general notion of the strange theories which
+have developed themselves respecting this most interesting subject, I
+must still express my conviction as to the unity of the authorship of
+the Homeric poems. To deny that many corruptions and interpolations
+disfigure them, and that the intrusive hand of the poetasters may
+here and there have inflicted a wound more serious than the
+negligence of the copyist, would be an absurd and captious
+assumption; but it is to a higher criticism that we must appeal, if
+we would either understand or enjoy these poems. In maintaining the
+authenticity and personality of their one author, be he Homer or
+Melesigenes, /quocunque nomine vocari eum jus fasque sit/, I feel
+conscious that, while the whole weight of historical evidence is
+against the hypothesis which would assign these great works to a
+plurality of authors, the most powerful internal evidence, and that
+which springs from the deepest and most immediate impulse of the
+soul, also speaks eloquently to the contrary.
+
+The minutiae of verbal criticism I am far from seeking to despise.
+Indeed, considering the character of some of my own books, such an
+attempt would be gross inconsistency. But, while I appreciate its
+importance in a philological view, I am inclined to set little store
+on its aesthetic value, especially in poetry. Three parts of the
+emendations made upon poets are mere alterations, some of which, had
+they been suggested to the author by his Maecenas or Africanus, he
+would probably have adopted. Moreover, those who are most exact in
+laying down rules of verbal criticism and interpretation, are often
+least competent to carry out their own precepts. Grammarians are not
+poets by profession, but may be so per accidens. I do not at this
+moment remember two emendations on Homer, calculated to substantially
+improve the poetry of a passage, although a mass of remarks, from
+Herodotus down to Loewe, have given us the history of a thousand
+minute points, without which our Greek knowledge would be gloomy and
+jejune.
+
+But it is not on words only that grammarians, mere grammarians, will
+exercise their elaborate and often tiresome ingenuity. Binding down
+an heroic or dramatic poet to the block upon which they have
+previously dissected his words and sentences, they proceed to use the
+axe and the pruning knife by wholesale; and, inconsistent in
+everything but their wish to make out a case of unlawful affiliation,
+they cut out book after book, passage after passage, till the author
+is reduced to a collection of fragments, or till those who fancied
+they possessed the works of some great man, find that they have been
+put off with a vile counterfeit got up at second hand. If we compare
+the theories of Knight, Wolf, Lachmann; and others, we shall feel
+better satisfied of the utter uncertainty of criticism than of the
+apocryphal position of Homer. One rejects what another considers the
+turning-point of his theory. One cuts a supposed knot by expunging
+what another would explain by omitting something else.
+
+Nor is this morbid species of sagacity by any means to be looked upon
+as a literary novelty. Justus Lipsius, a scholar of no ordinary
+skill, seems to revel in the imaginary discovery, that the tragedies
+attributed to Seneca are by four different authors. Now, I will
+venture to assert, that these tragedies are so uniform, not only in
+their borrowed phraseology--a phraseology with which writers like
+Boethius and Saxo Grammaticus were more charmed than ourselves--in
+their freedom from real poetry, and last, but not least, in an
+ultra-refined and consistent abandonment of good taste, that few
+writers of the present day would question the capabilities of the
+same gentleman, be he Seneca or not, to produce not only these, but a
+great many more equally bad. With equal sagacity, Father Hardouin
+astonished the world with the startling announcement that the AEneid
+of Virgil, and the satires of Horace, were literary deceptions. Now,
+without wishing to say one word of disrespect against the industry
+and learning--nay, the refined acuteness--which scholars like Wolf
+have bestowed upon this subject, I must express my fears, that many
+of our modern Homeric theories will become matter for the surprise
+and entertainment, rather than the instruction, of posterity. Nor can
+I help thinking that the literary history of more recent times will
+account for many points of difficulty in the transmission of the
+Iliad and Odyssey to a period so remote from that of their first
+creation.
+
+I have already expressed my belief that the labours of Peisistratus
+were of a purely editorial character; and there seems no more reason
+why corrupt and imperfect editions of Homer may not have been abroad
+in his day, than that the poems of Valerius Flaccus and Tibullus
+should have given so much trouble to Poggio, Scaliger, and others.
+But, after all, the main fault in all the Homeric theories is, that
+they demand too great a sacrifice of those feelings to which poetry
+most powerfully appeals, and which are its most fitting judges. The
+ingenuity which has sought to rob us of the name and existence of
+Homer, does too much violence to that inward emotion, which makes our
+whole soul yearn with love and admiration for the blind bard of
+Chios. To believe the author of the Iliad a mere compiler, is to
+degrade the powers of human invention; to elevate analytical judgment
+at the expense of the most ennobling impulses of the soul; and to
+forget the ocean in the contemplation of a polypus. There is a
+catholicity, so to speak, in the very name of Homer. Our faith in the
+author of the Iliad may be a mistaken one, but as yet nobody has
+taught us a better.
+
+While, however, I look upon the belief in Homer as one that has
+nature herself for its mainspring; while I can join with old Ennius
+in believing in Homer as the ghost, who, like some patron saint,
+hovers round the bed of the poet, and even bestows rare gifts from
+that wealth of imagination which a host of imitators could not
+exhaust,--still I am far from wishing to deny that the author of
+these great poems found a rich fund of tradition, a well-stocked
+mythical storehouse, from whence he might derive both subject and
+embellishment. But it is one thing to use existing romances in the
+embellishment of a poem, another to patch up the poem itself from
+such materials. What consistency of style and execution can be hoped
+for from such an attempt? or, rather, what bad taste and tedium will
+not be the infallible result?
+
+A blending of popular legends, and a free use of the songs of other
+bards, are features perfectly consistent with poetical originality.
+In fact, the most original writer is still drawing upon outward
+impressions--nay, even his own thoughts are a kind of secondary
+agents which support and feed the impulses of imagination. But unless
+there be some grand pervading principle--some invisible, yet most
+distinctly stamped archetypus of the great whole, a poem like the
+Iliad can never come to the birth. Traditions the most picturesque,
+episodes the most pathetic, local associations teeming with the
+thoughts of gods and great men, may crowd in one mighty vision, or
+reveal themselves in more substantial forms to the mind of the poet;
+but, except the power to create a grand whole, to which these shall
+be but as details and embellishments, be present, we shall have
+nought but a scrap-book, a parterre filled with flowers and weeds
+strangling each other in their wild redundancy; we shall have a cento
+of rags and tatters, which will require little acuteness to detect.
+
+Sensible as I am of the difficulty of disproving a negative, and
+aware as I must be of the weighty grounds there are for opposing my
+belief, it still seems to me that the Homeric question is one that is
+reserved for a higher criticism than it has often obtained. We are
+not by nature intended to know all things; still less, to compass the
+powers by which the greatest blessings of life have been placed at
+our disposal. Were faith no virtue, then we might indeed wonder why
+God willed our ignorance on any matter. But we are too well taught
+the contrary lesson; and it seems as though our faith should be
+especially tried, touching the men and the events which have wrought
+most influence upon the condition of humanity. And there is a kind of
+sacredness attached to the memory of the great and the good, which
+seems to bid us repulse the scepticism which would allegorize their
+existence into a pleasing apologue, and measure the giants of
+intellect by an homaeopathic dynameter.
+
+Long and habitual reading of Homer appears to familiarize our
+thoughts even to his incongruities; or rather, if we read in a right
+spirit and with a heartfelt appreciation, we are too much dazzled,
+too deeply wrapped in admiration of the whole, to dwell upon the
+minute spots which mere analysis can discover. In reading an heroic
+poem, we must transform ourselves into heroes of the time being, we
+in imagination must fight over the same battles, woo the same loves,
+burn with the same sense of injury, as an Achilles or a Hector. And
+if we can but attain this degree of enthusiasm (and less enthusiasm
+will scarcely suffice for the reading of Homer), we shall feel that
+the poems of Homer are not only the work of one writer, but of the
+greatest writer that ever touched the hearts of men by the power of
+song.
+
+And it was this supposed unity of authorship which gave these poems
+their powerful influence over the minds of the men of old. Heeren,
+who is evidently little disposed in favour of modern theories, finely
+observes:--
+
+"It was Homer who formed the character of the Greek nation. No poet
+has ever, as a poet, exercised a similar influence over his
+countrymen.  Prophets, lawgivers, and sages have formed the character
+of other nations; it was reserved to a poet to form that of the
+Greeks. This is a feature in their character which was not wholly
+erased even in the period of their degeneracy. When lawgivers and
+sages appeared in Greece, the work of the poet had already been
+accomplished; and they paid homage to his superior genius. He held up
+before his nation the mirror in which they were to behold the world
+of gods and heroes, no less than of feeble mortals, and to behold
+them reflected with purity and truth. His poems are founded on the
+first feeling of human nature; on the love of children, wife, and
+country; on that passion which outweighs all others, the love of
+glory. His songs were poured forth from a breast which sympathized
+with all the feelings of man; and therefore they enter, and will
+continue to enter, every breast which cherishes the same sympathies.
+If it is granted to his immortal spirit, from another heaven than any
+of which he dreamed on earth, to look down on his race, to see the
+nations from the fields of Asia, to the forests of Hercynia,
+performing pilgrimages to the fountain which his magic wand caused to
+flow; if it is permitted to him to view the vast assemblage of grand,
+of elevated, of glorious productions, which had been called into
+being by means of his songs; wherever his immortal spirit may reside,
+this alone would suffice to complete his happiness."
+
+Can we contemplate that ancient monument, on which the "Apotheosis of
+Homer" is depictured, and not feel how much of pleasing association,
+how much that appeals most forcibly and most distinctly to our minds,
+is lost by the admittance of any theory but our old tradition? The
+more we read, and the more we think--think as becomes the readers of
+Homer,--the more rooted becomes the conviction that the Father of
+Poetry gave us this rich inheritance, whole and entire. Whatever were
+the means of its preservation, let us rather be thankful for the
+treasury of taste and eloquence thus laid open to our use, than seek
+to make it a mere centre around which to drive a series of theories,
+whose wildness is only equalled by their inconsistency with each
+other.
+
+As the hymns, and some other poems usually ascribed to Homer, are not
+included in Pope's translation, I will content myself with a brief
+account of the Battle of the Frogs and Mice, from the pen of a writer
+who has done it full justice:--
+
+"This poem," says Coleridge, "is a short mock-heroic of ancient date.
+The text varies in different editions, and is obviously disturbed and
+corrupt to a great degree; it is commonly said to have been a
+juvenile essay of Homer's genius; others have attributed it to the
+same Pigrees mentioned above, and whose reputation for humour seems
+to have invited the appropriation of any piece of ancient wit, the
+author of which was uncertain; so little did the Greeks, before the
+age of the Ptolemies, know or care about that department of criticism
+employed in determining the genuineness of ancient writings. As to
+this little poem being a youthful prolusion of Homer, it seems
+sufficient to say that from the beginning to the end, it is a plain
+and palpable parody, not only of the general spirit, but of numerous
+passages of the Iliad itself; and, even if no such intention to
+parody were discernible in it, the objection would still remain, that
+to suppose a work of mere burlesque to be the primary effort of
+poetry in a simple age, seems to reverse that order in the
+development of national taste, which the history of every other
+people in Europe, and of many in Asia, has almost ascertained to be a
+law of the human mind; it is in a state of society much more refined
+and permanent than that described in the Iliad, that any popularity
+would attend such a ridicule of war and the gods as is contained in
+this poem; and the fact of there having existed three other poems of
+the same kind attributed, for aught we can see, with as much reason
+to Homer, is a strong inducement to believe that none of them were of
+the Homeric age.  Knight infers from the usage of the word /deltoz/,
+'writing tablet,' instead of /diphthera/, 'skin,' which, according to
+Herod 5, 58, was the material employed by the Asiatic Greeks for that
+purpose, that this poem was another offspring of Attic ingenuity; and
+generally that the familiar mention of the cock (v. 191) is a strong
+argument against so ancient a date for its composition."
+
+Having thus given a brief account of the poems comprised in Pope's
+design, I will now proceed to make a few remarks on his translation,
+and on my own purpose in the present edition.
+
+Pope was not a Grecian. His whole education had been irregular, and
+his earliest acquaintance with the poet was through the version of
+Ogilby.  It is not too much to say that his whole work bears the
+impress of a disposition to be satisfied with the general sense,
+rather than to dive deeply into the minute and delicate features of
+language. Hence his whole work is to be looked upon rather as an
+elegant paraphrase than a translation. There are, to be sure, certain
+conventional anecdotes, which prove that Pope consulted various
+friends, whose classical attainments were sounder than his own,
+during the undertaking; but it is probable that these examinations
+were the result rather of the contradictory versions already
+existing, than of a desire to make a perfect transcript of the
+original. And in those days, what is called literal translation was
+less cultivated than at present. If something like the general sense
+could be decorated with the easy gracefulness of a practised poet; if
+the charms of metrical cadence and a pleasing fluency could be made
+consistent with a fair interpretation of the poet's meaning, his
+words were less jealously sought for, and those who could read so
+good a poem as Pope's Iliad had fair reason to be satisfied.
+
+It would be absurd, therefore, to test Pope's translation by our own
+advancing knowledge of the original text. We must be content to look
+at it as a most delightful work in itself,--a work which is as much a
+part of English literature as Homer himself is of Greek. We must not
+be torn from our kindly associations with the old Iliad, that once
+was our most cherished companion, or our most looked-for prize,
+merely because Buttmann, Loewe, and Liddell have made us so much more
+accurate as to /amphikipellon/ being an adjective, and not a
+substantive. Far be it from us to defend the faults of Pope,
+especially when we think of Chapman's fine, bold, rough old
+English;--far be it from us to hold up his translation as what a
+translation of Homer might be. But we can still dismiss Pope's Iliad
+to the hands of our readers, with the consciousness that they must
+have read a very great number of books before they have read its
+fellow.
+
+        THEODORE ALOIS BUCKLEY.
+
+Christ Church.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE ODYSSEY OF HOMER
+
+BOOK I
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+MINERVA'S DESCENT TO ITHACA.
+
+The poem opens within forty eight days of the arrival of Ulysses
+in his dominions. He had now remained seven years in the Island of
+Calypso, when the gods assembled in council, proposed the method
+of his departure from thence and his return to his native country.
+For this purpose it is concluded to send Mercury to Calypso, and
+Pallas immediately descends to Ithaca. She holds a conference with
+Telemachus, in the shape of Mantes, king of Taphians; in which she
+advises him to take a journey in quest of his father Ulysses, to
+Pylos and Sparta, where Nestor and Menelaus yet reigned; then,
+after having visibly displayed her divinity, disappears. The
+suitors of Penelope make great entertainments, and riot in her
+palace till night. Phemius sings to them the return of the
+Grecians, till Penelope puts a stop to the song. Some words arise
+between the suitors and Telemachus, who summons the council to
+meet the day following.
+
+
+
+The man for wisdom's various arts renown'd,
+Long exercised in woes, O Muse! resound;
+Who, when his arms had wrought the destined fall
+Of sacred Troy, and razed her heaven-built wall,
+Wandering from clime to clime, observant stray'd,
+Their manners noted, and their states survey'd,
+On stormy seas unnumber'd toils he bore,
+Safe with his friends to gain his natal shore:
+Vain toils! their impious folly dared to prey
+On herds devoted to the god of day;
+The god vindictive doom'd them never more
+(Ah, men unbless'd!) to touch that natal shore.
+Oh, snatch some portion of these acts from fate,
+Celestial Muse! and to our world relate.
+
+Now at their native realms the Greeks arrived;
+All who the wars of ten long years survived;
+And 'scaped the perils of the gulfy main.
+Ulysses, sole of all the victor train,
+An exile from his dear paternal coast,
+Deplored his absent queen and empire lost.
+Calypso in her caves constrain'd his stay,
+With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay;
+In vain-for now the circling years disclose
+The day predestined to reward his woes.
+At length his Ithaca is given by fate,
+Where yet new labours his arrival wait;
+At length their rage the hostile powers restrain,
+All but the ruthless monarch of the main.
+But now the god, remote, a heavenly guest,
+In AEthiopia graced the genial feast
+(A race divided, whom with sloping rays
+The rising and descending sun surveys);
+There on the world's extremest verge revered
+With hecatombs and prayer in pomp preferr'd,
+Distant he lay: while in the bright abodes
+Of high Olympus, Jove convened the gods:
+The assembly thus the sire supreme address'd,
+AEgysthus' fate revolving in his breast,
+Whom young Orestes to the dreary coast
+Of Pluto sent, a blood-polluted ghost.
+
+"Perverse mankind! whose wills, created free,
+Charge all their woes on absolute degree;
+All to the dooming gods their guilt translate,
+And follies are miscall'd the crimes of fate.
+When to his lust AEgysthus gave the rein,
+Did fate, or we, the adulterous act constrain?
+Did fate, or we, when great Atrides died,
+Urge the bold traitor to the regicide?
+Hermes I sent, while yet his soul remain'd
+Sincere from royal blood, and faith profaned;
+To warn the wretch, that young Orestes, grown
+To manly years, should re-assert the throne.
+Yet, impotent of mind, and uncontroll'd,
+He plunged into the gulf which Heaven foretold."
+
+Here paused the god; and pensive thus replies
+Minerva, graceful with her azure eyes:
+
+"O thou! from whom the whole creation springs,
+The source of power on earth derived to kings!
+His death was equal to the direful deed;
+So may the man of blood be doomed to bleed!
+But grief and rage alternate wound my breast
+For brave Ulysses, still by fate oppress'd.
+Amidst an isle, around whose rocky shore
+The forests murmur, and the surges roar,
+The blameless hero from his wish'd-for home
+A goddess guards in her enchanted dome;
+(Atlas her sire, to whose far-piercing eye
+The wonders of the deep expanded lie;
+The eternal columns which on earth he rears
+End in the starry vault, and prop the spheres).
+By his fair daughter is the chief confined,
+Who soothes to dear delight his anxious mind;
+Successless all her soft caresses prove,
+To banish from his breast his country's love;
+To see the smoke from his loved palace rise,
+While the dear isle in distant prospect lies,
+With what contentment could he close his eyes!
+And will Omnipotence neglect to save
+The suffering virtue of the wise and brave?
+Must he, whose altars on the Phrygian shore
+With frequent rites, and pure, avow'd thy power,
+Be doom'd the worst of human ills to prove,
+Unbless'd, abandon'd to the wrath of Jove?"
+
+"Daughter! what words have pass'd thy lips unweigh'd!
+(Replied the Thunderer to the martial maid;)
+Deem not unjustly by my doom oppress'd,
+Of human race the wisest and the best.
+Neptune, by prayer repentant rarely won,
+Afflicts the chief, to avenge his giant son,
+Whose visual orb Ulysses robb'd of light;
+Great Polypheme, of more than mortal might?
+Him young Thousa bore (the bright increase
+Of Phorcys, dreaded in the sounds and seas);
+Whom Neptune eyed with bloom of beauty bless'd,
+And in his cave the yielding nymph compress'd
+For this the god constrains the Greek to roam,
+A hopeless exile from his native home,
+From death alone exempt--but cease to mourn;
+Let all combine to achieve his wish'd return;
+Neptune atoned, his wrath shall now refrain,
+Or thwart the synod of the gods in vain."
+
+"Father and king adored!" Minerva cried,
+"Since all who in the Olympian bower reside
+Now make the wandering Greek their public care,
+Let Hermes to the Atlantic isle repair;
+Bid him, arrived in bright Calypso's court,
+The sanction of the assembled powers report:
+That wise Ulysses to his native land
+Must speed, obedient to their high command.
+Meantime Telemachus, the blooming heir
+Of sea-girt Ithaca, demands my care;
+'Tis mine to form his green, unpractised years
+In sage debates; surrounded with his peers,
+To save the state, and timely to restrain
+The bold intrusion of the suitor-train;
+Who crowd his palace, and with lawless power
+His herds and flocks in feastful rites devour.
+To distant Sparta, and the spacious waste
+Of Sandy Pyle, the royal youth shall haste.
+There, warm with filial love, the cause inquire
+That from his realm retards his god-like sire;
+Delivering early to the voice of fame
+The promise of a green immortal name."
+
+She said: the sandals of celestial mould,
+Fledged with ambrosial plumes, and rich with gold,
+Surround her feet: with these sublime she sails
+The aerial space, and mounts the winged gales;
+O'er earth and ocean wide prepared to soar,
+Her dreaded arm a beamy javelin bore,
+Ponderous and vast: which, when her fury burns,
+Proud tyrants humbles, and whole hosts o'erturns.
+From high Olympus prone her flight she bends,
+And in the realms of Ithaca descends,
+Her lineaments divine, the grave disguise
+Of Mentes' form conceal'd from human eyes
+(Mentes, the monarch of the Taphian land);
+A glittering spear waved awful in her hand.
+There in the portal placed, the heaven-born maid
+Enormous riot and misrule survey'd.
+On hides of beeves, before the palace gate
+(Sad spoils of luxury), the suitors sate.
+With rival art, and ardour in their mien,
+At chess they vie, to captivate the queen;
+Divining of their loves.  Attending nigh,
+A menial train the flowing bowl supply.
+Others, apart, the spacious hall prepare,
+And form the costly feast with busy care.
+There young Telemachus, his bloomy face
+Glowing celestial sweet, with godlike grace
+Amid the circle shines: but hope and fear
+(Painful vicissitude!) his bosom tear.
+Now, imaged in his mind, he sees restored
+In peace and joy the people's rightful lord;
+The proud oppressors fly the vengeful sword.
+While his fond soul these fancied triumphs swell'd,
+The stranger guest the royal youth beheld;
+Grieved that a visitant so long should wait
+Unmark'd, unhonour'd, at a monarch's gate;
+Instant he flew with hospitable haste,
+And the new friend with courteous air embraced.
+"Stranger, whoe'er thou art, securely rest,
+Affianced in my faith, a ready guest;
+Approach the dome, the social banquet share,
+And then the purpose of thy soul declare."
+
+Thus affable and mild, the prince precedes,
+And to the dome the unknown celestial leads.
+The spear receiving from the hand, he placed
+Against a column, fair with sculpture graced;
+Where seemly ranged in peaceful order stood
+Ulysses' arms now long disused to blood.
+He led the goddess to the sovereign seat,
+Her feet supported with a stool of state
+(A purple carpet spread the pavement wide);
+Then drew his seat, familiar, to her side;
+Far from the suitor-train, a brutal crowd,
+With insolence, and wine, elate and loud:
+Where the free guest, unnoted, might relate,
+If haply conscious, of his father's fate.
+The golden ewer a maid obsequious brings,
+Replenish'd from the cool, translucent springs;
+With copious water the bright vase supplies
+A silver laver of capacious size;
+They wash. The tables in fair order spread,
+They heap the glittering canisters with bread:
+Viands of various kinds allure the taste,
+Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!
+Delicious wines the attending herald brought;
+The gold gave lustre to the purple draught.
+Lured with the vapour of the fragrant feast,
+In rush'd the suitors with voracious haste;
+Marshall'd in order due, to each a sewer
+Presents, to bathe his hands, a radiant ewer.
+Luxurious then they feast. Observant round
+Gay stripling youths the brimming goblets crown'd.
+The rage of hunger quell'd, they all advance
+And form to measured airs the mazy dance;
+To Phemius was consign'd the chorded lyre,
+Whose hand reluctant touch'd the warbling wire;
+Phemius, whose voice divine could sweetest sing
+High strains responsive to the vocal string.
+
+Meanwhile, in whispers to his heavenly guest
+His indignation thus the prince express'd:
+
+"Indulge my rising grief, whilst these (my friend)
+With song and dance the pompous revel end.
+Light is the dance, and doubly sweet the lays,
+When for the dear delight another pays.
+His treasured stores those cormarants consume,
+Whose bones, defrauded of a regal tomb
+And common turf, lie naked on the plain,
+Or doom'd to welter in the whelming main.
+Should he return, that troop so blithe and bold,
+With purple robes inwrought, and stiff with gold,
+Precipitant in fear would wing their flight,
+And curse their cumbrous pride's unwieldy weight.
+But ah, I dream!-the appointed hour is fled.
+And hope, too long with vain delusion fed,
+Deaf to the rumour of fallacious fame,
+Gives to the roll of death his glorious name!
+With venial freedom let me now demand
+Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land;
+Sincere from whence began thy course, recite,
+And to what ship I owe the friendly freight?
+Now first to me this visit dost thou deign,
+Or number'd in my father's social train?
+All who deserved his choice he made his own,
+And, curious much to know, he far was known."
+
+"My birth I boast (the blue-eyed virgin cries)
+From great Anchialus, renown'd and wise;
+Mentes my name; I rule the Taphian race,
+Whose bounds the deep circumfluent waves embrace;
+A duteous people, and industrious isle,
+To naval arts inured, and stormy toil.
+Freighted with iron from my native land,
+I steer my voyage to the Brutian strand
+To gain by commerce, for the labour'd mass,
+A just proportion of refulgent brass.
+Far from your capital my ship resides
+At Reitorus, and secure at anchor rides;
+Where waving groves on airy Neign grow,
+Supremely tall and shade the deeps below.
+Thence to revisit your imperial dome,
+An old hereditary guest I come;
+Your father's friend.  Laertes can relate
+Our faith unspotted, and its early date;
+Who, press'd with heart-corroding grief and years,
+To the gay court a rural shed pretors,
+Where, sole of all his train, a matron sage
+Supports with homely fond his drooping age,
+With feeble steps from marshalling his vines
+Returning sad, when toilsome day declines.
+
+"With friendly speed, induced by erring fame,
+To hail Ulysses' safe return I came;
+But still the frown of some celestial power
+With envious joy retards the blissful hour.
+Let not your soul be sunk in sad despair;
+He lives, he breathes this heavenly vital air,
+Among a savage race, whose shelfy bounds
+With ceaseless roar the foaming deep surrounds.
+The thoughts which roll within my ravish'd breast,
+To me, no seer, the inspiring gods suggest;
+Nor skill'd nor studious, with prophetic eye
+To judge the winged omens of the sky.
+Yet hear this certain speech, nor deem it vain;
+Though adamantine bonds the chief restrain,
+The dire restraint his wisdom will defeat,
+And soon restore him to his regal seat.
+But generous youth! sincere and free declare,
+Are you, of manly growth, his royal heir?
+For sure Ulysses in your look appears,
+The same his features, if the same his years.
+Such was that face, on which I dwelt with joy
+Ere Greece assembled stemm'd the tides to Troy;
+But, parting then for that detested shore,
+Our eyes, unhappy never greeted more."
+
+"To prove a genuine birth (the prince replies)
+On female truth assenting faith relies.
+Thus manifest of right, I build my claim
+Sure-founded on a fair maternal fame,
+Ulysses' son: but happier he, whom fate
+Hath placed beneath the storms which toss the great!
+Happier the son, whose hoary sire is bless'd
+With humble affluence, and domestic rest!
+Happier than I, to future empire born,
+But doom'd a father's wretch'd fate to mourn!"
+
+To whom, with aspect mild, the guest divine:
+"Oh true descendant of a sceptred line!
+The gods a glorious fate from anguish free
+To chaste Penelope's increase decree.
+But say, yon jovial troops so gaily dress'd,
+Is this a bridal or a friendly feast?
+Or from their deed I rightlier may divine,
+Unseemly flown with insolence and wine?
+Unwelcome revellers, whose lawless joy
+Pains the sage ear, and hurts the sober eye."
+
+"Magnificence of old (the prince replied)
+Beneath our roof with virtue could reside;
+Unblamed abundance crowned the royal board,
+What time this dome revered her prudent lord;
+Who now (so Heaven decrees) is doom'd to mourn,
+Bitter constraint, erroneous and forlorn.
+Better the chief, on Ilion's hostile plain,
+Had fall'n surrounded with his warlike train;
+Or safe return'd, the race of glory pass'd,
+New to his friends' embrace, and breathed his last!
+Then grateful Greece with streaming eyes would raise,
+Historic marbles to record his praise;
+His praise, eternal on the faithful stone,
+Had with transmissive honour graced his son.
+Now snatch'd by harpies to the dreary coast.
+Sunk is the hero, and his glory lost;
+Vanish'd at once! unheard of, and unknown!
+And I his heir in misery alone.
+Nor for a dear lost father only flow
+The filial tears, but woe succeeds to woe
+To tempt the spouseless queen with amorous wiles
+Resort the nobles from the neighbouring isles;
+From Samos, circled with the Ionian main,
+Dulichium, and Zacynthas' sylvan reign;
+Ev'n with presumptuous hope her bed to ascend,
+The lords of Ithaca their right pretend.
+She seems attentive to their pleaded vows,
+Her heart detesting what her ear allows.
+They, vain expectants of the bridal hour,
+My stores in riotous expense devour.
+In feast and dance the mirthful months employ,
+And meditate my doom to crown their joy."
+
+With tender pity touch'd, the goddess cried:
+"Soon may kind Heaven a sure relief provide,
+Soon may your sire discharge the vengeance due,
+And all your wrongs the proud oppressors rue!
+Oh! in that portal should the chief appear,
+Each hand tremendous with a brazen spear,
+In radiant panoply his limbs incased
+(For so of old my fathers court he graced,
+When social mirth unbent his serious soul,
+O'er the full banquet, and the sprightly bowl);
+He then from Ephyre, the fair domain
+Of Ilus, sprung from Jason's royal strain,
+Measured a length of seas, a toilsome length, in vain.
+For, voyaging to learn the direful art
+To taint with deadly drugs the barbed dart;
+Observant of the gods, and sternly just,
+Ilus refused to impart the baneful trust;
+With friendlier zeal my father's soul was fired,
+The drugs he knew, and gave the boon desired.
+Appear'd he now with such heroic port,
+As then conspicuous at the Taphian court;
+Soon should you boasters cease their haughty strife,
+Or each atone his guilty love with life.
+But of his wish'd return the care resign,
+Be future vengeance to the powers divine.
+My sentence hear: with stern distaste avow'd,
+To their own districts drive the suitor-crowd;
+When next the morning warms the purple east,
+Convoke the peerage, and the gods attest;
+The sorrows of your inmost soul relate;
+And form sure plans to save the sinking state.
+Should second love a pleasing flame inspire,
+And the chaste queen connubial rights require;
+Dismiss'd with honour, let her hence repair
+To great Icarius, whose paternal care
+Will guide her passion, and reward her choice
+With wealthy dower, and bridal gifts of price.
+Then let this dictate of my love prevail:
+Instant, to foreign realms prepare to sail,
+To learn your father's fortunes; Fame may prove,
+Or omen'd voice (the messenger of Jove),
+Propitious to the search. Direct your toil
+Through the wide ocean first to sandy Pyle;
+Of Nestor, hoary sage, his doom demand:
+Thence speed your voyage to the Spartan strand;
+For young Atrides to the Achaian coast
+Arrived the last of all the victor host.
+If yet Ulysses views the light, forbear,
+Till the fleet hours restore the circling year.
+But if his soul hath wing'd the destined flight,
+Inhabitant of deep disastrous night;
+Homeward with pious speed repass the main,
+To the pale shade funereal rites ordain,
+Plant the fair column o'er the vacant grave,
+A hero's honours let the hero have.
+With decent grief the royal dead deplored,
+For the chaste queen select an equal lord.
+Then let revenge your daring mind employ,
+By fraud or force the suitor train destroy,
+And starting into manhood, scorn the boy.
+Hast thou not heard how young Orestes, fired
+With great revenge, immortal praise acquired?
+His virgin-sword AEgysthus' veins imbrued;
+The murderer fell, and blood atoned for blood.
+O greatly bless'd with every blooming grace!
+With equal steps the paths of glory trace;
+Join to that royal youth's your rival name,
+And shine eternal in the sphere of fame.
+But my associates now my stay deplore,
+Impatient on the hoarse-resounding shore.
+Thou, heedful of advice, secure proceed;
+My praise the precept is, be thine the deed.
+
+"The counsel of my friend (the youth rejoin'd)
+Imprints conviction on my grateful mind.
+So fathers speak (persuasive speech and mild)
+Their sage experience to the favourite child.
+But, since to part, for sweet refection due,
+The genial viands let my train renew;
+And the rich pledge of plighted faith receive,
+Worthy the air of Ithaca to give."
+
+"Defer the promised boon (the goddess cries,
+Celestial azure brightening in her eyes),
+And let me now regain the Reithrian port;
+From Temese return'd, your royal court
+I shall revisit, and that pledge receive;
+And gifts, memorial of our friendship, leave."
+
+Abrupt, with eagle-speed she cut the sky;
+Instant invisible to mortal eye.
+Then first he recognized the ethereal guest;
+Wonder and joy alternate fire his breast;
+Heroic thoughts, infused, his heart dilate;
+Revolving much his father's doubtful fate.
+At length, composed, he join'd the suitor-throng;
+Hush'd in attention to the warbled song.
+His tender theme the charming lyrist chose.
+Minerva's anger, and the dreadful woes
+Which voyaging from Troy the victors bore,
+While storms vindictive intercept the store.
+The shrilling airs the vaulted roof rebounds,
+Reflecting to the queen the silver sounds.
+With grief renew'd the weeping fair descends;
+Their sovereign's step a virgin train attends:
+A veil, of richest texture wrought, she wears,
+And silent to the joyous hall repairs.
+There from the portal, with her mild command,
+Thus gently checks the minstrel's tuneful hand:
+
+"Phemius! let acts of gods, and heroes old,
+What ancient bards in hall and bower have told,
+Attemper'd to the lyre, your voice employ;
+Such the pleased ear will drink with silent joy.
+But, oh! forbear that dear disastrous name,
+To sorrow sacred, and secure of fame;
+My bleeding bosom sickens at the sound,
+And every piercing note inflicts a wound."
+
+"Why, dearest object of my duteous love,
+(Replied the prince,) will you the bard reprove?
+Oft, Jove's ethereal rays (resistless fire)
+The chanters soul and raptured song inspire
+Instinct divine? nor blame severe his choice,
+Warbling the Grecian woes with heart and voice;
+For novel lays attract our ravish'd ears;
+But old, the mind with inattention hears:
+Patient permit the sadly pleasing strain;
+Familiar now with grief, your tears refrain,
+And in the public woe forget your own;
+You weep not for a perish'd lord alone.
+What Greeks new wandering in the Stygian gloom,
+Wish your Ulysses shared an equal doom!
+Your widow'd hours, apart, with female toil
+And various labours of the loom beguile;
+There rule, from palace-cares remote and free;
+That care to man belongs, and most to me."
+
+Mature beyond his years, the queen admires
+His sage reply, and with her train retires.
+Then swelling sorrows burst their former bounds,
+With echoing grief afresh the dome resounds;
+Till Pallas, piteous of her plaintive cries,
+In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes.
+
+Meantime, rekindled at the royal charms,
+Tumultuous love each beating bosom warms;
+Intemperate rage a wordy war began;
+But bold Telemachus assumed the man.
+"Instant (he cried) your female discord end,
+Ye deedless boasters! and the song attend;
+Obey that sweet compulsion, nor profane
+With dissonance the smooth melodious strain.
+Pacific now prolong the jovial feast;
+But when the dawn reveals the rosy east,
+I, to the peers assembled, shall propose
+The firm resolve, I here in few disclose;
+No longer live the cankers of my court;
+All to your several states with speed resort;
+Waste in wild riot what your land allows,
+There ply the early feast, and late carouse.
+But if, to honour lost, 'tis still decreed
+For you my bowl shall flow, my flock shall bleed;
+Judge and revenge my right, impartial Jove!
+By him and all the immortal thrones above
+(A sacred oath), each proud oppressor slain,
+Shall with inglorious gore this marble stain."
+
+Awed by the prince, thus haughty, bold, and young,
+Rage gnaw'd the lip, and wonder chain'd the tongue.
+Silence at length the gay Antinous broke,
+Constrain'd a smile, and thus ambiguous spoke:
+"What god to your untutor'd youth affords
+This headlong torrent of amazing words?
+May Jove delay thy reign, and cumber late
+So bright a genius with the toils of state!"
+
+"Those toils (Telemachus serene replies)
+Have charms, with all their weight, t'allure the wise.
+Fast by the throne obsequious fame resides,
+And wealth incessant rolls her golden tides.
+Nor let Antinous rage, if strong desire
+Of wealth and fame a youthful bosom fire:
+Elect by Jove, his delegate of sway,
+With joyous pride the summons I'd obey.
+Whene'er Ulysses roams the realm of night,
+Should factious power dispute my lineal right,
+Some other Greeks a fairer claim may plead;
+To your pretence their title would precede.
+At least, the sceptre lost, I still should reign
+Sole o'er my vassals, and domestic train."
+
+To this Eurymachus: "To Heaven alone
+Refer the choice to fill the vacant throne.
+Your patrimonial stores in peace possess;
+Undoubted, all your filial claim confess:
+Your private right should impious power invade,
+The peers of Ithaca would arm in aid.
+But say, that stranger guest who late withdrew,
+What and from whence? his name and lineage shew.
+His grave demeanour and majestic grace
+Speak him descended of no vulgar race:
+Did he some loan of ancient right require,
+Or came forerunner of your sceptr'd sire?"
+
+"Oh son of Polybus!" the prince replies,
+"No more my sire will glad these longing eyes;
+The queen's fond hope inventive rumour cheers,
+Or vain diviners' dreams divert her fears.
+That stranger-guest the Taphian realm obeys,
+A realm defended with encircling seas.
+Mentes, an ever-honour'd name, of old
+High in Ulysses' social list enroll'd."
+
+Thus he, though conscious of the ethereal guest,
+Answer'd evasive of the sly request.
+Meantime the lyre rejoins the sprightly lay;
+Love-dittied airs, and dance, conclude the day
+But when the star of eve with golden light
+Adorn'd the matron brow of sable night,
+The mirthful train dispersing quit the court,
+And to their several domes to rest resort.
+A towering structure to the palace join'd;
+To this his steps the thoughtful prince inclined:
+In his pavilion there, to sleep repairs;
+The lighted torch, the sage Euryclea bears
+(Daughter of Ops, the just Pisenor's son,
+For twenty beeves by great Laertes won;
+In rosy prime with charms attractive graced,
+Honour'd by him, a gentle lord and chaste,
+With dear esteem: too wise, with jealous strife
+To taint the joys of sweet connubial life.
+Sole with Telemachus her service ends,
+A child she nursed him, and a man attends).
+Whilst to his couch himself the prince address'd,
+The duteous dame received the purple vest;
+The purple vest with decent care disposed,
+The silver ring she pull'd, the door reclosed,
+The bolt, obedient to the silken cord,
+To the strong staple's inmost depth restored,
+Secured the valves. There, wrapped in silent shade,
+Pensive, the rules the goddess gave he weigh'd;
+Stretch'd on the downy fleece, no rest he knows,
+And in his raptured soul the vision glows.
+
+
+
+BOOK II.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+THE COUNCIL OF ITHACA.
+
+Telemachus in the assembly of the lords of Ithaca complains of the
+injustice done him by the suitors, and insists upon their
+departure from his palace; appealing to the princes, and exciting
+the people to declare against them. The suitors endeavour to
+justify their stay, at least till he shall send the queen to the
+court of Icarius her father; which he refuses. There appears a
+prodigy of two eagles in the sky, which an augur expounds to the
+ruin of the suitors. Telemachus the demands a vessel to carry him
+to Pylos and Sparta, there to inquire of his father's fortunes.
+Pallas, in the shape of Mentor (an ancient friend of Ulysses),
+helps him to a ship, assists him in preparing necessaries for the
+voyage, and embarks with him that night; which concludes the
+second day from the opening of the poem. The scene continues in
+the palace of Ulysses, in Ithaca.
+
+
+
+Now reddening from the dawn, the morning ray
+Glow'd in the front of heaven, and gave the day
+The youthful hero, with returning light,
+Rose anxious from the inquietudes of night.
+A royal robe he wore with graceful pride,
+A two-edged falchion threaten'd by his side,
+Embroider'd sandals glitter'd as he trod,
+And forth he moved, majestic as a god.
+Then by his heralds, restless of delay,
+To council calls the peers: the peers obey.
+Soon as in solemn form the assembly sate,
+From his high dome himself descends in state.
+Bright in his hand a ponderous javelin shined;
+Two dogs, a faithful guard, attend behind;
+Pallas with grace divine his form improves,
+And gazing crowds admire him as he moves,
+
+His father's throne he fill'd; while distant stood
+The hoary peers, and aged wisdom bow'd.
+
+'Twas silence all.  At last AEgyptius spoke;
+AEgyptius, by his age and sorrow broke;
+A length of days his soul with prudence crown'd,
+A length of days had bent him to the ground.
+His eldest hope in arms to Ilion came,
+By great Ulysses taught the path to fame;
+But (hapless youth) the hideous Cyclops tore
+His quivering limbs, and quaff'd his spouting gore.
+Three sons remain'd; to climb with haughty fires
+The royal bed, Eurynomus aspires;
+The rest with duteous love his griefs assuage,
+And ease the sire of half the cares of age.
+Yet still his Antiphus he loves, he mourns,
+And, as he stood, he spoke and wept by turns,
+
+"Since great Ulysses sought the Phrygian plains,
+Within these walls inglorious silence reigns.
+Say then, ye peers! by whose commands we meet?
+Why here once more in solemn council sit?
+Ye young, ye old, the weighty cause disclose:
+Arrives some message of invading foes?
+Or say, does high necessity of state
+Inspire some patriot, and demand debate?
+The present synod speaks its author wise;
+Assist him, Jove, thou regent of the skies!"
+
+He spoke. Telemachus with transport glows,
+Embraced the omen, and majestic rose
+(His royal hand the imperial sceptre sway'd);
+Then thus, addressing to AEgyptius, said:
+
+"Reverend old man! lo here confess'd he stands
+By whom ye meet; my grief your care demands.
+No story I unfold of public woes,
+Nor bear advices of impending foes:
+Peace the blest land, and joys incessant crown:
+Of all this happy realm, I grieve alone.
+For my lost sire continual sorrows spring,
+The great, the good; your father and your king.
+Yet more; our house from its foundation bows,
+Our foes are powerful, and your sons the foes;
+Hither, unwelcome to the queen, they come;
+Why seek they not the rich Icarian dome?
+If she must wed, from other hands require
+The dowry: is Telemachus her sire?
+Yet through my court the noise of revel rings,
+And waste the wise frugality of kings.
+Scarce all my herds their luxury suffice;
+Scarce all my wine their midnight hours supplies.
+Safe in my youth, in riot still they grow,
+Nor in the helpless orphan dread a foe.
+But come it will, the time when manhood grants
+More powerful advocates than vain complaints.
+Approach that hour! insufferable wrong
+Cries to the gods, and vengeance sleeps too long.
+Rise then, ye peers! with virtuous anger rise;
+Your fame revere, but most the avenging skies.
+By all the deathless powers that reign above,
+By righteous Themis and by thundering Jove
+(Themis, who gives to councils, or denies
+Success; and humbles, or confirms the wise),
+Rise in my aid! suffice the tears that flow
+For my lost sire, nor add new woe to woe.
+If e'er he bore the sword to strengthen ill,
+Or, having power to wrong, betray'd the will,
+On me, on me your kindled wrath assuage,
+And bid the voice of lawless riot rage.
+If ruin to your royal race ye doom,
+Be you the spoilers, and our wealth consume.
+Then might we hope redress from juster laws,
+And raise all Ithaca to aid our cause:
+But while your sons commit the unpunish'd wrong,
+You make the arm of violence too strong."
+
+While thus he spoke, with rage and grief he frown'd,
+And dash'd the imperial sceptre to the ground.
+The big round tear hung trembling in his eye:
+The synod grieved, and gave a pitying sigh,
+Then silent sate--at length Antinous burns
+With haughty rage, and sternly thus returns:
+
+"O insolence of youth! whose tongue affords
+Such railing eloquence, and war of words.
+Studious thy country's worthies to defame,
+Thy erring voice displays thy mother's shame.
+Elusive of the bridal day, she gives
+Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives.
+Did not the sun, through heaven's wide azure roll'd,
+For three long years the royal fraud behold?
+While she, laborious in delusion, spread
+The spacious loom, and mix'd the various thread:
+Where as to life the wondrous figures rise,
+Thus spoke the inventive queen, with artful sighs:
+
+"Though cold in death Ulysses breathes no more,
+Cease yet awhile to urge the bridal hour:
+Cease, till to great Laertes I bequeath
+A task of grief, his ornaments of death.
+Lest when the Fates his royal ashes claim,
+The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame;
+When he, whom living mighty realms obey'd,
+Shall want in death a shroud to grace his shade.'
+
+"Thus she: at once the generous train complies,
+Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue's fair disguise.
+The work she plied; but, studious of delay,
+By night reversed the labours of the day.
+While thrice the sun his annual journey made,
+The conscious lamp the midnight fraud survey'd;
+Unheard, unseen, three years her arts prevail;
+The fourth her maid unfolds the amazing tale.
+We saw, as unperceived we took our stand,
+The backward labours of her faithless hand.
+Then urged, she perfects her illustrious toils;
+A wondrous monument of female wiles!
+
+"But you, O peers! and thou, O prince! give ear
+(I speak aloud, that every Greek may hear):
+Dismiss the queen; and if her sire approves
+Let him espouse her to the peer she loves:
+Bid instant to prepare the bridal train,
+Nor let a race of princes wait in vain.
+Though with a grace divine her soul is blest,
+And all Minerva breathes within her breast,
+In wondrous arts than woman more renown'd,
+And more than woman with deep wisdom crown'd;
+Though Tyro nor Mycene match her name,
+Not great Alemena (the proud boasts of fame);
+Yet thus by heaven adorn'd, by heaven's decree
+She shines with fatal excellence, to thee:
+With thee, the bowl we drain, indulge the feast,
+Till righteous heaven reclaim her stubborn breast.
+What though from pole to pole resounds her name!
+The son's destruction waits the mother's fame:
+For, till she leaves thy court, it is decreed,
+Thy bowl to empty and thy flock to bleed."
+
+While yet he speaks, Telemachus replies:
+"Ev'n nature starts, and what ye ask denies.
+Thus, shall I thus repay a mother's cares,
+Who gave me life, and nursed my infant years!
+While sad on foreign shores Ulysses treads.
+Or glides a ghost with unapparent shades;
+How to Icarius in the bridal hour
+Shall I, by waste undone, refund the dower?
+How from my father should I vengeance dread!
+How would my mother curse my hated head!
+And while In wrath to vengeful fiends she cries,
+How from their hell would vengeful fiends arise!
+Abhorr'd by all, accursed my name would grow,
+The earth's disgrace, and human-kind my foe.
+If this displease, why urge ye here your stay?
+Haste from the court, ye spoilers, haste away:
+Waste in wild riot what your land allows,
+There ply the early feast, and late carouse.
+But if to honour lost, 'tis still decreed
+For you my bowl shall flow, my flocks shall bleed;
+Judge, and assert my right, impartial Jove!
+By him, and all the immortal host above
+(A sacred oath), if heaven the power supply,
+Vengeance I vow, and for your wrongs ye die."
+
+With that, two eagles from a mountain's height
+By Jove's command direct their rapid flight;
+Swift they descend, with wing to wing conjoin'd,
+Stretch their broad plumes, and float upon the wind.
+Above the assembled peers they wheel on high,
+And clang their wings, and hovering beat the sky;
+With ardent eyes the rival train they threat,
+And shrieking loud denounce approaching fate.
+They cuff, they tear; their cheeks and neck they rend,
+And from their plumes huge drops of blood descend;
+Then sailing o'er the domes and towers, they fly,
+Full toward the east, and mount into the sky.
+
+The wondering rivals gaze, with cares oppress'd,
+And chilling horrors freeze in every breast,
+Till big with knowledge of approaching woes,
+The prince of augurs, Halitherses, rose:
+Prescient he view'd the aerial tracks, and drew
+A sure presage from every wing that flew.
+
+"Ye sons (he cried) of Ithaca, give ear;
+Hear all! but chiefly you, O rivals! hear.
+Destruction sure o'er all your heads impends
+Ulysses comes, and death his steps attends.
+Nor to the great alone is death decreed;
+We and our guilty Ithaca must bleed.
+Why cease we then the wrath of heaven to stay?
+Be humbled all, and lead, ye great! the way.
+For lo my words no fancied woes relate;
+I speak from science and the voice of fate.
+
+"When great Ulysses sought the Phrygian shores
+To shake with war proud Ilion's lofty towers,
+Deeds then undone my faithful tongue foretold:
+Heaven seal'd my words, and you those deeds behold.
+I see (I cried) his woes, a countless train;
+I see his friends o'erwhelm'd beneath the main;
+How twice ten years from shore to shore he roams:
+Now twice ten years are past, and now he comes!"
+
+To whom Eurymachus--"Fly, dotard fly,
+With thy wise dreams, and fables of the sky.
+Go prophesy at home, thy sons advise:
+Here thou art sage in vain--I better read the skies
+Unnumber'd birds glide through the aerial way;
+Vagrants of air, and unforeboding stray.
+Cold in the tomb, or in the deeps below,
+Ulysses lies; oh wert thou laid as low!
+Then would that busy head no broils suggest,
+For fire to rage Telemachus' breast,
+From him some bribe thy venal tongue requires,
+And interest, not the god, thy voice inspires.
+His guideless youth, if thy experienced age
+Mislead fallacious into idle rage,
+Vengeance deserved thy malice shall repress.
+And but augment the wrongs thou would'st redress,
+Telemachus may bid the queen repair
+To great Icarius, whose paternal care
+Will guide her passion, and reward her choice
+With wealthy dower, and bridal gifts of price.
+Till she retires, determined we remain,
+And both the prince and augur threat in vain:
+His pride of words, and thy wild dream of fate,
+Move not the brave, or only move their hate,
+Threat on, O prince! elude the bridal day.
+Threat on, till all thy stores in waste decay.
+True, Greece affords a train of lovely dames,
+In wealth and beauty worthy of our flames:
+But never from this nobler suit we cease;
+For wealth and beauty less than virtue please."
+
+To whom the youth: "Since then in vain I tell
+My numerous woes, in silence let them dwell.
+But Heaven, and all the Greeks, have heard my wrongs;
+To Heaven, and all the Greeks, redress belongs;
+Yet this I ask (nor be it ask'd in vain),
+A bark to waft me o'er the rolling main,
+The realms of Pyle and Sparta to explore,
+And seek my royal sire from shore to shore;
+If, or to fame his doubtful fate be known,
+Or to be learn'd from oracles alone,
+If yet he lives, with patience I forbear,
+Till the fleet hours restore the circling year;
+But if already wandering in the train
+Of empty shades, I measure back the main,
+Plant the fair column o'er the mighty dead,
+And yield his consort to the nuptial bed."
+
+He ceased; and while abash'd the peers attend,
+Mentor arose, Ulysses' faithful friend:
+(When fierce in arms he sought the scenes of war,
+"My friend (he cried), my palace be thy care;
+Years roll'd on years my godlike sire decay,
+Guard thou his age, and his behests obey.")
+Stern as he rose, he cast his eyes around,
+That flash'd with rage; and as spoke, he frown'd,
+
+"O never, never more let king be just,
+Be mild in power, or faithful to his trust!
+Let tyrants govern with an iron rod,
+Oppress, destroy, and be the scourge of God;
+Since he who like a father held his reign,
+So soon forgot, was just and mild in vain!
+True, while my friend is grieved, his griefs I share;
+Yet now the rivals are my smallest care:
+They for the mighty mischiefs they devise,
+Ere long shall pay--their forfeit lives the price.
+But against you, ye Greeks! ye coward train!
+Gods! how my soul is moved with just disdain!
+Dumb ye all stand, and not one tongue affords
+His injured prince the little aid of words."
+
+While yet he spoke, Leocritus rejoined:
+"O pride of words, and arrogance of mind!
+Would'st thou to rise in arms the Greeks advise?
+Join all your powers? in arms, ye Greeks, arise!
+Yet would your powers in vain our strength oppose.
+The valiant few o'ermatch a host of foes.
+Should great Ulysses stern appear in arms,
+While the bowl circles and the banquet warms;
+Though to his breast his spouse with transport flies,
+Torn from her breast, that hour, Ulysses dies.
+But hence retreating to your domes repair.
+To arm the vessel, Mentor! be thy care,
+And Halitherses! thine: be each his friend;
+Ye loved the father: go, the son attend.
+But yet, I trust, the boaster means to stay
+Safe in the court, nor tempt the watery way."
+
+Then, with a rushing sound the assembly bend
+Diverse their steps: the rival rout ascend
+The royal dome; while sad the prince explores
+The neighbouring main, and sorrowing treads the shores.
+There, as the waters o'er his hands he shed,
+The royal suppliant to Minerva pray'd:
+
+"O goddess! who descending from the skies
+Vouchsafed thy presence to my wondering eyes,
+By whose commands the raging deeps I trace,
+And seek my sire through storms and rolling seas!
+Hear from thy heavens above, O warrior maid!
+Descend once more, propitious to my aid.
+Without thy presence, vain is thy command:
+Greece, and the rival train, thy voice withstand."
+
+Indulgent to his prayer, the goddess took
+Sage Mentor's form, and thus like Mentor spoke:
+
+"O prince, in early youth divinely wise,
+Born, the Ulysses of thy age to rise
+If to the son the father's worth descends,
+O'er the wide wave success thy ways attends
+To tread the walks of death he stood prepared;
+And what he greatly thought, he nobly dared.
+Were not wise sons descendant of the wise,
+And did not heroes from brave heroes rise,
+Vain were my hopes: few sons attain the praise
+Of their great sires, and most their sires disgrace.
+But since thy veins paternal virtue fires,
+And all Penelope thy soul inspires,
+Go, and succeed: the rivals' aims despise;
+For never, never wicked man was wise.
+Blind they rejoice, though now, ev'n now they fall;
+Death hastes amain: one hour o'erwhelms them all!
+And lo, with speed we plough the watery way;
+My power shall guard thee, and my hand convey:
+The winged vessel studious I prepare,
+Through seas and realms companion of thy care.
+Thou to the court ascend: and to the shores
+(When night advances) bear the naval stores;
+Bread, that decaying man with strength supplies,
+And generous wine, which thoughtful sorrow flies.
+Meanwhile the mariners, by my command,
+Shall speed aboard, a valiant chosen band.
+Wide o'er the bay, by vessel vessel rides;
+The best I choose to waft then o'er the tides."
+
+She spoke: to his high dome the prince returns,
+And, as he moves, with royal anguish mourns.
+'Twas riot all, among the lawless train;
+Boar bled by boar, and goat by goat lay slain.
+Arrived, his hand the gay Antinous press'd,
+And thus deriding, with a smile address'd:
+
+"Grieve not, O daring prince! that noble heart;
+Ill suits gay youth the stern heroic part.
+Indulge the genial hour, unbend thy soul,
+Leave thought to age, and drain the flowing bowl.
+Studious to ease thy grief, our care provides
+The bark, to waft thee o'er the swelling tides."
+
+"Is this (returns the prince) for mirth a time?
+When lawless gluttons riot, mirth's a crime;
+The luscious wines, dishonour'd, lose their taste;
+The song is noise, and impious is the feast.
+Suffice it to have spent with swift decay
+The wealth of kings, and made my youth a prey.
+But now the wise instructions of the sage,
+And manly thoughts inspired by manly age,
+Teach me to seek redress for all my woe,
+Here, or in Pyle--in Pyle, or here, your foe.
+Deny your vessels, ye deny in vain:
+A private voyager I pass the main.
+Free breathe the winds, and free the billows flow;
+And where on earth I live, I live your foe."
+
+He spoke and frown'd, nor longer deign'd to stay,
+Sternly his hand withdrew, and strode away.
+
+Meantime, o'er all the dome, they quaff, they feast,
+Derisive taunts were spread from guest to guest,
+And each in jovial mood his mate address'd:
+
+"Tremble ye not, O friends, and coward fly,
+Doom'd by the stern Telemachus to die?
+To Pyle or Sparta to demand supplies,
+Big with revenge, the mighty warrior flies;
+Or comes from Ephyre with poisons fraught,
+And kills us all in one tremendous draught!"
+
+"Or who can say (his gamesome mate replies)
+But, while the danger of the deeps he tries
+He, like his sire, may sink deprived of breath,
+And punish us unkindly by his death?
+What mighty labours would he then create,
+To seize his treasures, and divide his state,
+The royal palace to the queen convey,
+Or him she blesses in the bridal day!"
+
+Meantime the lofty rooms the prince surveys,
+Where lay the treasures of the Ithacian race:
+Here ruddy brass and gold refulgent blazed;
+There polished chests embroider'd vestures graced;
+Here jars of oil breathed forth a rich perfume;
+There casks of wine in rows adorn'd the dome
+(Pure flavorous wine, by gods in bounty given
+And worthy to exalt the feasts of heaven).
+Untouch'd they stood, till, his long labours o'er,
+The great Ulysses reach'd his native shore.
+A double strength of bars secured the gates;
+Fast by the door the wise Euryclea waits;
+Euryclea, who great Ops! thy lineage shared,
+And watch'd all night, all day, a faithful guard.
+
+To whom the prince: "O thou whose guardian care
+Nursed the most wretched king that breathes the air;
+Untouch'd and sacred may these vessels stand,
+Till great Ulysses views his native land.
+But by thy care twelve urns of wine be fill'd;
+Next these in worth, and firm these urns be seal'd;
+And twice ten measures of the choicest flour
+Prepared, are yet descends the evening hour.
+For when the favouring shades of night arise,
+And peaceful slumbers close my mother's eyes,
+Me from our coast shall spreading sails convey,
+To seek Ulysses through the watery way."
+
+While yet he spoke, she fill'd the walls with cries,
+And tears ran trickling from her aged eyes.
+"O whither, whither flies my son (she cried)
+To realms; that rocks and roaring seas divide?
+In foreign lands thy father's days decay'd.
+And foreign lands contain the mighty dead.
+The watery way ill-fated if thou try,
+All, all must perish, and by fraud you die!
+Then stay, my, child! storms beat, and rolls the main,
+Oh, beat those storms, and roll the seas in vain!"
+
+"Far hence (replied the prince) thy fears be driven:
+Heaven calls me forth; these counsels are of Heaven.
+But, by the powers that hate the perjured, swear,
+To keep my voyage from the royal ear,
+Nor uncompell'd the dangerous truth betray,
+Till twice six times descends the lamp of day,
+Lest the sad tale a mother's life impair,
+And grief destroy what time awhile would spare."
+
+Thus he. The matron with uplifted eyes
+Attests the all-seeing sovereign of the skies.
+Then studious she prepares the choicest flour,
+The strength of wheat and wines an ample store.
+While to the rival train the prince returns,
+The martial goddess with impatience burns;
+Like thee, Telemachus, in voice and size,
+With speed divine from street to street she flies,
+She bids the mariners prepared to stand,
+When night descends, embodied on the strand.
+Then to Noemon swift she runs, she flies,
+And asks a bark: the chief a bark supplies.
+
+And now, declining with his sloping wheels,
+Down sunk the sun behind the western hills
+The goddess shoved the vessel from the shores,
+And stow'd within its womb the naval stores,
+Full in the openings of the spacious main
+It rides; and now descends the sailor-train,
+
+Next, to the court, impatient of delay.
+With rapid step the goddess urged her way;
+There every eye with slumberous chains she bound,
+And dash'd the flowing goblet to the ground.
+Drowsy they rose, with heavy fumes oppress'd,
+Reel'd from the palace, and retired to rest.
+Then thus, in Mentor's reverend form array'd,
+Spoke to Telemachus the martial maid.
+"Lo! on the seas, prepared the vessel stands,
+The impatient mariner thy speed demands."
+Swift as she spoke, with rapid pace she leads;
+The footsteps of the deity he treads.
+Swift to the shore they move along the strand;
+The ready vessel rides, the sailors ready stand.
+
+He bids them bring their stores; the attending train
+Load the tall bark, and launch into the main,
+The prince and goddess to the stern ascend;
+To the strong stroke at once the rowers bend.
+Full from the west she bids fresh breezes blow;
+The sable billows foam and roar below.
+The chief his orders gives; the obedient band
+With due observance wait the chief's command;
+With speed the mast they rear, with speed unbind
+The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind.
+High o'er the roaring waves the spreading sails
+Bow the tall mast, and swell before the gales;
+The crooked keel the parting surge divides,
+And to the stern retreating roll the tides.
+And now they ship their oars, and crown with wine
+The holy goblet to the powers divine:
+Imploring all the gods that reign above,
+But chief the blue-eyed progeny of Jove.
+
+Thus all the night they stem the liquid way,
+And end their voyage with the morning ray.
+
+
+
+BOOK III
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+THE INTERVIEW OF TELEMACHUS AND NESTOR.
+
+Telemachus, guided by Pallas in the shape of Mentor, arrives in
+the morning at Pylos, where Nestor and his sons are sacrificing on
+the sea-shore to Neptune. Telemachus declares the occasion of his
+coming: and Nestor relates what passed in their return from Troy,
+how their fleets were separated, and he never since heard of
+Ulysses. They discourse concerning the death of Agamemnon, the
+revenge of Orestes, and the injuries of the suitors. Nestor
+advises him to go to Sparta, and inquire further of Menelaus. The
+sacrifice ending with the night, Minerva vanishes from them in the
+form of an eagle: Telemachus is lodged in the palace. The next
+morning they sacrifice a bullock to Minerva; and Telemachus
+proceeds on his journey to Sparta, attended by Pisistratus.
+
+The scene lies on the sea-shore of Pylos.
+
+
+The sacred sun, above the waters raised,
+Through heaven's eternal brazen portals blazed;
+And wide o'er earth diffused his cheering ray,
+To gods and men to give the golden day.
+Now on the coast of Pyle the vessel falls,
+Before old Neleus' venerable walls.
+There suppliant to the monarch of the flood,
+At nine green theatres the Pylians stood,
+Each held five hundred (a deputed train),
+At each, nine oxen on the sand lay slain.
+They taste the entrails, and the altars load
+With smoking thighs, an offering to the god.
+Full for the port the Ithacensians stand,
+And furl their sails, and issue on the land.
+Telemachus already press'd the shore;
+Not first, the power of wisdom march'd before,
+And ere the sacrificing throng he join'd,
+Admonish'd thus his well-attending mind:
+
+"Proceed, my son! this youthful shame expel;
+An honest business never blush to tell.
+To learn what fates thy wretched sire detain,
+We pass'd the wide immeasurable main.
+Meet then the senior far renown'd for sense
+With reverend awe, but decent confidence:
+Urge him with truth to frame his fair replies;
+And sure he will; for wisdom never lies."
+
+"Oh tell me, Mentor! tell me, faithful guide
+(The youth with prudent modesty replied),
+How shall I meet, or how accost the sage,
+Unskill'd in speech, nor yet mature of age?
+Awful th'approach, and hard the task appears,
+To question wisely men of riper years."
+
+To whom the martial goddess thus rejoin'd:
+"Search, for some thoughts, thy own suggesting mind;
+And others, dictated by heavenly power,
+Shall rise spontaneous in the needful hour.
+For nought unprosperous shall thy ways attend,
+Born with good omens, and with heaven thy friend."
+
+She spoke, and led the way with swiftest speed;
+As swift, the youth pursued the way she led;
+and join'd the band before the sacred fire,
+Where sate, encompass'd with his sons, the sire.
+The youth of Pylos, some on pointed wood
+Transfix'd the fragments, some prepared the food:
+In friendly throngs they gather to embrace
+Their unknown guests, and at the banquet place,
+Pisistratus was first to grasp their hands,
+And spread soft hides upon the yellow sands;
+Along the shore the illustrious pair he led,
+Where Nestor sate with the youthful Thrasymed,
+To each a portion of the feast he bore,
+And held the golden goblet foaming o'er;
+Then first approaching to the elder guest,
+The latent goddess in these words address'd:
+"Whoe'er thou art, from fortune brings to keep
+These rites of Neptune, monarch of the deep,
+Thee first it fits, O stranger!  to prepare
+The due libation and the solemn prayer;
+Then give thy friend to shed the sacred wine;
+Though much thy younger, and his years like mine,
+He too, I deem, implores the power divine;
+For all mankind alike require their grace,
+All born to want; a miserable race!"
+He spake, and to her hand preferr'd the bowl;
+A secret pleasure touch'd Athena's soul,
+To see the preference due to sacred age
+Regarded ever by the just and sage.
+Of Ocean's king she then implores the grace.
+"O thou! whose arms this ample globe embrace,
+Fulfil our wish, and let thy glory shine
+On Nestor first, and Nestor's royal line;
+Next grant the Pylian states their just desires,
+Pleased with their hecatomb's ascending fires;
+Last, deign Telemachus and me to bless,
+And crown our voyage with desired success."
+
+Thus she: and having paid the rite divine,
+Gave to Ulysses' son the rosy wine.
+Suppliant he pray'd. And now the victims dress'd
+They draw, divide, and celebrate the feast.
+The banquet done, the narrative old man,
+Thus mild, the pleasing conference began:
+
+"Now gentle guests! the genial banquet o'er,
+It fits to ask ye, what your native shore,
+And whence your race? on what adventure say,
+Thus far you wander through the watery way?
+Relate if business, or the thirst of gain,
+Engage your journey o'er the pathless main
+Where savage pirates seek through seas unknown
+The lives of others, venturous of their own."
+
+Urged by the precepts by the goddess given,
+And fill'd with confidence infused from Heaven,
+The youth, whom Pallas destined to be wise
+And famed among the sons of men, replies:
+"Inquir'st thou, father! from what coast we came?
+(Oh grace and glory of the Grecian name!)
+From where high Ithaca o'erlooks the floods,
+Brown with o'er-arching shades and pendent woods
+Us to these shores our filial duty draws,
+A private sorrow, not a public cause.
+My sire I seek, where'er the voice of fame
+Has told the glories of his noble name,
+The great Ulysses; famed from shore to shore
+For valour much, for hardy suffering more.
+Long time with thee before proud Ilion's wall
+In arms he fought; with thee beheld her fall.
+Of all the chiefs, this hero's fate alone
+Has Jove reserved, unheard of, and unknown;
+Whether in fields by hostile fury slain,
+Or sunk by tempests in the gulfy main?
+Of this to learn, oppress'd with tender fears,
+Lo, at thy knee his suppliant son appears.
+If or thy certain eye, or curious ear,
+Have learnt his fate, the whole dark story clear
+And, oh! whate'er Heaven destined to betide,
+Let neither flattery soothe, nor pity hide.
+Prepared I stand: he was but born to try
+The lot of man; to suffer, and to die.
+Oh then, if ever through the ten years' war
+The wise, the good Ulysses claim'd thy care;
+If e'er he join'd thy council, or thy sword,
+True in his deed, and constant to his word;
+Far as thy mind through backward time can see
+Search all thy stores of faithful memory:
+'Tis sacred truth I ask, and ask of thee."
+
+To him experienced Nestor thus rejoin'd:
+"O friend! what sorrows dost thou bring to mind!
+Shall I the long, laborious scene review,
+And open all the wounds of Greece anew?
+What toils by sea! where dark in quest of prey
+Dauntless we roved; Achilles led the way;
+What toils by land! where mix'd in fatal fight
+Such numbers fell, such heroes sunk to night;
+There Ajax great, Achilles there the brave,
+There wise Patroclus, fill an early grave:
+There, too, my son--ah, once my best delight
+Once swift of foot, and terrible in fight;
+In whom stern courage with soft virtue join'd
+A faultless body and a blameless mind;
+Antilochus--What more can I relate?
+How trace the tedious series of our fate?
+Not added years on years my task could close,
+The long historian of my country's woes;
+Back to thy native islands might'st thou sail,
+And leave half-heard the melancholy tale.
+Nine painful years on that detested shore;
+What stratagems we form'd, what toils we bore!
+Still labouring on, till scarce at last we found
+Great Jove propitious, and our conquest crown'd.
+Far o'er the rest thy mighty father shined,
+In wit, in prudence, and in force of mind.
+Art thou the son of that illustrious sire?
+With joy I grasp thee, and with love admire.
+So like your voices, and your words so wise,
+Who finds thee younger must consult his eyes.
+Thy sire and I were one; nor varied aught
+In public sentence, or in private thought;
+Alike to council or the assembly came,
+With equal souls, and sentiments the same.
+But when (by wisdom won) proud Ilion burn'd,
+And in their ships the conquering Greeks return'd,
+'Twas God's high will the victors to divide,
+And turn the event, confounding human pride;
+Some be destroy'd, some scatter'd as the dust
+(Not all were prudent, and not all were just).
+Then Discord, sent by Pallas from above,
+Stern daughter of the great avenger Jove,
+The brother-kings inspired with fell debate;
+Who call'd to council all the Achaian state,
+But call'd untimely (not the sacred rite
+Observed, nor heedful of the setting light,
+Nor herald sword the session to proclaim),
+Sour with debauch, a reeling tribe the came.
+To these the cause of meeting they explain,
+And Menelaus moves to cross the main;
+Not so the king of men: be will'd to stay,
+The sacred rites and hecatombs to pay,
+And calm Minerva's wrath. Oh blind to fate!
+The gods not lightly change their love, or hate.
+With ireful taunts each other they oppose,
+Till in loud tumult all the Greeks arose.
+Now different counsels every breast divide,
+Each burns with rancour to the adverse side;
+The unquiet night strange projects entertain'd
+(So Jove, that urged us to our fate, ordain'd).
+We with the rising morn our ships unmoor'd,
+And brought our captives and our stores aboard;
+But half the people with respect obey'd
+The king of men, and at his bidding stay'd.
+Now on the wings of winds our course we keep
+(For God had smooth'd the waters of the deep);
+For Tenedos we spread our eager oars,
+There land, and pay due victims to the powers;
+To bless our safe return, we join in prayer;
+But angry Jove dispersed our vows in air,
+And raised new discord. Then (so Heaven decreed)
+Ulysses first and Neator disagreed!
+Wise as he was, by various counsels away'd,
+He there, though late, to please the monarch, stay'd.
+But I, determined, stem the foamy floods,
+Warn'd of the coming fury of the gods.
+With us, Tydides fear'd, and urged his haste:
+And Menelaus came, but came the last,
+He join'd our vessels in the Lesbian bay,
+While yet we doubted of our watery way;
+If to the right to urge the pilot's toil
+(The safer road), beside the Psyrian isle;
+Or the straight course to rocky Chios plough,
+And anchor under Mimas' shaggy brow?
+We sought direction of the power divine:
+The god propitious gave the guiding sign;
+Through the mid seas he bid our navy steer,
+And in Euboea shun the woes we fear.
+The whistling winds already waked the sky;
+Before the whistling winds the vessels fly,
+With rapid swiftness cut the liquid way,
+And reach Gerestus at the point of day.
+There hecacombs of bulls, to Neptune slain,
+High-flaming please the monarch of the main.
+The fourth day shone, when all their labours o'er,
+Tydides' vessels touched the wish'd-for shore.
+But I to Pylos scud before the gales,
+The god still breathing on my swelling sails;
+Separate from all, I safely landed here;
+Their fates or fortunes never reach'd my ear.
+Yet what I learn'd, attend; as here I sat,
+And ask'd each voyager each hero's fate;
+Curious to know, and willing to relate.
+
+"Safe reach'd the Myrmidons their native land,
+Beneath Achilles' warlike son's command.
+Those, whom the heir of great Apollo's art,
+Brave Philoctetes, taught to wing the dart;
+And those whom Idomen from Ilion's plain
+Had led, securely cross'd the dreadful main
+How Agamemnon touch'd his Argive coast,
+And how his life by fraud and force he lost,
+And how the murderer, paid his forfeit breath;
+What lands so distant from that scene of death
+But trembling heard the fame? and heard, admire.
+How well the son appeased his slaughter'd sire!
+Ev'n to the unhappy, that unjustly bleed,
+Heaven gives posterity, to avenge the deed.
+So fell Aegysthus; and mayest thou, my friend,
+(On whom the virtues of thy sire descend,)
+Make future times thy equal act adore,
+And be what brave Orestes was before!"
+
+The prudent youth replied: "O thou the grace
+And lasting glory of the Grecian race!
+Just was the vengeance, and to latest days
+Shall long posterity resound the praise.
+Some god this arm with equal prowess bless!
+And the proud suitors shall its force confess;
+Injurious men! who while my soul is sore
+Of fresh affronts, are meditating more.
+But Heaven denies this honour to my hand,
+Nor shall my father repossess the land;
+The father's fortune never to return,
+And the sad son's to softer and to mourn!"
+Thus he; and Nestor took the word: "My son,
+Is it then true, as distant rumours run,
+That crowds of rivals for thy mother's charms
+Thy palace fill with insults and alarms?
+Say, is the fault, through tame submission, thine?
+Or leagued against thee, do thy people join,
+Moved by some oracle, or voice divine?
+And yet who knows, but ripening lies in fate
+An hour of vengeance for the afflicted state;
+When great Ulysses shall suppress these harms,
+Ulysses singly, or all Greece in arms.
+But if Athena, war's triumphant maid,
+The happy son will as the father aid,
+(Whose fame and safety was her constant care
+In every danger and in every war:
+Never on man did heavenly favour shine
+With rays so strong, distinguish'd and divine,
+As those with which Minerva mark'd thy sire)
+So might she love thee, so thy soul inspire!
+Soon should their hopes in humble dust be laid,
+And long oblivion of the bridal bed."
+
+"Ah! no such hope (the prince with sighs replies)
+Can touch my breast; that blessing Heaven denies.
+Ev'n by celestial favour were it given,
+Fortune or fate would cross the will of Heaven."
+
+"What words are these, and what imprudence thine?
+(Thus interposed the martial maid divine)
+Forgetful youth! but know, the Power above
+With ease can save each object of his love;
+Wide as his will, extends his boundless grace;
+Nor lost in time nor circumscribed by place.
+Happier his lot, who, many sorrows' pass'd,
+Long labouring gains his natal shore at last;
+Than who, too speedy, hastes to end his life
+By some stern ruffian, or adulterous wife.
+Death only is the lot which none can miss,
+And all is possible to Heaven but this.
+The best, the dearest favourite of the sky,
+Must taste that cup, for man is born to die."
+
+Thus check'd, replied Ulysses' prudent heir:
+"Mentor, no more--the mournful thought forbear;
+For he no more must draw his country's breath,
+Already snatch'd by fate, and the black doom of death!
+Pass we to other subjects; and engage
+On themes remote the venerable sage
+(Who thrice has seen the perishable kind
+Of men decay, and through three ages shined
+Like gods majestic, and like gods in mind);
+For much he knows, and just conclusions draws,
+From various precedents, and various laws.
+O son of Neleus! awful Nestor, tell
+How he, the mighty Agamemnon, fell;
+By what strange fraud Aegysthus wrought, relate
+(By force he could not) such a hero's fate?
+Live Menelaus not in Greece? or where
+Was then the martial brother's pious care?
+Condemn'd perhaps some foreign short to tread;
+Or sure Aegysthus had not dared the deed."
+To whom the full of days: Illustrious youth,
+Attend (though partly thou hast guess'd) the truth.
+For had the martial Menelaus found
+The ruffian breathing yet on Argive ground;
+Nor earth had bid his carcase from the skies,
+Nor Grecian virgins shriek'd his obsequies,
+But fowls obscene dismember'd his remains,
+And dogs had torn him on the naked plains.
+While us the works of bloody Mars employ'd,
+The wanton youth inglorious peace enjoy'd:
+He stretch'd at ease in Argos' calm recess
+(Whose stately steeds luxuriant pastures bless),
+With flattery's insinuating art
+Soothed the frail queen, and poison'd all her heard.
+At first, with the worthy shame and decent pride,
+The royal dame his lawless suit denied.
+For virtue's image yet possess'd her mind.
+Taught by a master of the tuneful kind;
+Atrides, parting for the Trojan war,
+Consign'd the youthful consort to his care.
+True to his charge, the bard preserved her long
+In honour's limits; such the power of song.
+But when the gods these objects of their hate
+Dragg'd to the destruction by the links of fate;
+The bard they banish'd from his native soil,
+And left all helpless in a desert isle;
+There he, the sweetest of the sacred train,
+Sung dying to the rocks, but sung in vain.
+Then virtue was no more; her guard away,
+She fell, to lust a voluntary prey.
+Even to the temple stalk'd the adulterous spouse,
+With impious thanks, and mockery of the vows,
+With images, with garments, and with gold;
+And odorous fumes from loaded altars roll'd.
+"Meantime from flaming Troy we cut the way
+With Menelaus, through the curling sea.
+But when to Sunium's sacred point we came,
+Crown'd with the temple of the Athenian dame;
+Atride's pilot, Phrontes, there expired
+(Phrontes, of all the songs of men admired
+To steer the bounding bark with steady toil,
+When the storm thickens, and the billows boil);
+While yet he exercised the steerman's art,
+Apollo touch'd him with his gentle dart;
+Even with the rudder in his hand, he fell.
+To pay whole honours to the shades of hell,
+We check'd our haste, by pious office bound,
+And laid our old companion in the ground.
+And now the rites discharged, our course we keep
+Far on the gloomy bosom of the deep:
+Soon as Malae's misty tops arise,
+Sudden the Thunderer blackens all the skies,
+And the winds whistle, and the surges roll
+Mountains on mountains, and obscure the pole.
+The tempest scatters, and divides our fleet;
+Part, the storm urges on the coast of Crete,
+Where winding round the rich Cydonian plain,
+The streams of Jardan issue to the main.
+There stands a rock, high, eminent and steep,
+Whose shaggy brow o'erhangs the shady deep,
+And views Gortyna on the western side;
+On this rough Auster drove the impetuous tide:
+With broken force the billows roll'd away,
+And heaved the fleet into the neighb'ring bay.
+Thus saved from death, the gain'd the Phaestan shores,
+With shatter'd vessels and disabled oars;
+But five tall barks the winds and water toss'd,
+Far from their fellows, on the Aegyptian coast.
+There wander'd Menelaus through foreign shores
+Amassing gold, and gathering naval stores;
+While cursed Aegysthus the detested deed
+By fraud fulfilled, and his great brother bled.
+Seven years, the traitor rich Mycenae sway'd,
+And his stern rule the groaning land obey'd;
+The eighth, from Athens to his realm restored,
+Orestes brandish'd the avenging sword,
+Slew the dire pair, and gave to funeral flame
+The vile assassin and adulterous dame.
+That day, ere yet the bloody triumphs cease,
+Return'd Atrides to the coast of Greece,
+And safe to Argos port his navy brought,
+With gifts of price and ponderous treasure fraught.
+Hence warn'd, my son, beware! nor idly stand
+Too long a stranger to thy native land;
+Lest heedless absence wear thy wealth away,
+While lawless feasters in thy palace away;
+Perhaps may seize thy realm, and share the spoil;
+And though return, with disappointed toil,
+From thy vain journey, to a rifled isle.
+However, my friend, indulge one labour more,
+And seek Atrides on the Spartan shore.
+He, wandering long a wider circle made,
+And many-languaged nations has survey'd:
+And measured tracks unknown to other ships,
+Amid the monstrous wonders of the deeps,
+(A length of ocean and unbounded sky.
+Which scarce the sea-fowl in a year o'erfly);
+Go then; to Sparta take the watery way,
+Thy ship and sailors but for orders stay;
+Or, if my land then choose thy course to bend,
+My steeds, my chariots, and my songs, attend;
+Thee to Atrides they shall safe convey,
+Guides of thy road, companions of thy way.
+Urge him with truth to frame his wise replies,
+And sure he will; for Menelaus is wise."
+Thus while he speaks the ruddy sun descends,
+And twilight grey her evening shade extends.
+Then thus the blue-eyed maid: "O full of days!
+Wise are thy words, and just are all thy ways.
+Now immolate the tongues, and mix the wine,
+Sacred to Neptune and the powers divine,
+The lamp of day is quench'd beneath the deep,
+And soft approach the balmy hours of sleep;
+Nor fits it to prolong the heavenly feast,
+Timeless, indecent, but retire to rest."
+
+So spake Jove's daughter, the celestial maid,
+The sober train attended and obey'd.
+The sacred heralds on their hands around
+Pour'd the full urns; the youths the goblets crown'd;
+From bowl to bowl the homely beverage flows;
+While to the final sacrifice they rose.
+The tongues they cast upon the fragrant flame,
+And pour, above, the consecrated stream.
+And now, their thirst by copious draughts allay'd,
+The youthful hero and the Athenian maid
+Propose departure from the finish'd rite,
+And in their hollow bark to pass the night;
+But this hospitable sage denied,
+"Forbid it, Jove! and all the gods! (he cried),
+Thus from my walls and the much-loved son to send
+Of such a hero, and of such a friend!
+Me, as some needy peasant, would ye leave,
+Whom Heaven denies the blessing to relieve?
+Me would ye leave, who boast imperial sway,
+When beds of royal state invite your stay?
+No--long as life this mortal shall inspire,
+Or as my children imitate their sire.
+Here shall the wandering stranger find his home,
+And hospitable rites adorn the dome."
+
+"Well hast thou spoke (the blue-eyed maid replies),
+Beloved old man! benevolent as wise.
+Be the kind dictates of thy heart obey'd,
+And let thy words Telemachus persuade:
+He to thy palace shall thy steps pursue;
+I to the ship, to give the orders due,
+Prescribe directions and confirm the crew.
+For I alone sustain their naval cares,
+Who boast experience from these silver hairs;
+All youths the rest, whom to this journey move
+Like years, like tempers, and their prince's love
+There in the vessel shall I pass the night;
+And, soon as morning paints the fields of light,
+I go to challenge from the Caucons bold
+A debt, contracted in the days of old,
+But this, thy guest, received with friendly care
+Let thy strong coursers swift to Sparta bear;
+Prepare thy chariot at the dawn of day,
+And be thy son companion of his way."
+
+Then, turning with the word, Minerva flies,
+And soars an eagle through the liquid skies.
+Vision divine! the throng'd spectators gaze
+In holy wonder fix'd, and still amaze.
+But chief the reverend sage admired; he took
+The hand of young Telemachus, and spoke:
+"Oh, happy youth! and favoured of the skies,
+Distinguished care of guardian deities!
+Whose early years for future worth engage,
+No vulgar manhood, no ignoble age.
+For lo! none other of the course above,
+Then she, the daughter of almighty Jove,
+Pallas herself, the war-triumphant maid;
+Confess'd is thine, as once thy fathers aid.
+So guide me, goddess! so propitious shine
+On me, my consort, and my royal line!
+A yearling bullock to thy name shall smoke,
+Untamed, unconscious of the galling yoke,
+With ample forehead, and yet tender horns,
+Whose budding honours ductile gold adorns."
+
+Submissive thus the hoary sire preferr'd
+His holy vow: the favouring goddess heard.
+Then, slowly rising, o'er the sandy space
+Precedes the father, follow'd by his race,
+(A long procession) timely marching home
+In comely order to the regal dome.
+There when arrived, on thrones around him placed,
+His sons and grandsons the wide circle graced.
+To these the hospitable sage, in sign
+Of social welcome, mix'd the racy wine
+(Late from the mellowing cask restored to light,
+By ten long years refined, and rosy bright).
+To Pallas high the foaming bowl he crown'd,
+And sprinkled large libations on the ground.
+Each drinks a full oblivion of his cares,
+And to the gifts of balmy sleep repairs.
+Deep in a rich alcove the prince was laid,
+And slept beneath the pompous colonnade;
+Fast by his side Pisistratus was spread
+(In age his equal) on a splendid bed:
+But in an inner court, securely closed,
+The reverend Nestor and his queen reposed.
+
+When now Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
+With rosy lustre purpled o'er the lawn,
+The old man early rose, walk'd forth, and sate
+On polish'd stone before his palace gate;
+With unguents smooth the lucid marble shone,
+Where ancient Neleus sate, a rustic throne;
+But he descending to the infernal shade,
+Sage Nestor fill'd it, and the sceptre sway'd.
+His sons around him mild obeisance pay,
+And duteous take the orders of the day.
+First Eehephron and Stratius quit their bed;
+Then Perseus, Aretus, and Thrasymed;
+The last Pisistratus arose from rest:
+They came, and near him placed the stranger-guest.
+To these the senior thus declared his will:
+"My sons! the dictates of your sire fulfil.
+To Pallas, first of gods, prepare the feast,
+Who graced our rites, a more than mortal guest
+Let one, despatchful, bid some swain to lead
+A well-fed bullock from the grassy mead;
+One seek the harbour where the vessels moor,
+And bring thy friends, Telemachus! ashore
+(Leave only two the galley to attend);
+Another Laerceus must we send,
+Artist devine, whose skilful hands infold
+The victim's horn with circumfusile gold.
+The rest may here the pious duty share,
+And bid the handmaids for the feast prepare,
+The seats to range, the fragrant wood to bring,
+And limpid waters from the living spring."
+
+He said, and busy each his care bestow'd;
+Already at the gates the bullock low'd,
+Already came the Ithacensian crew,
+The dexterous smith the tools already drew;
+His ponderous hammer and his anvil sound,
+And the strong tongs to turn the metal round.
+Nor was Minerva absent from the rite,
+She view'd her honours, and enjoyed the sight,
+With reverend hand the king presents the gold,
+Which round the intorted horns the gilder roll'd.
+So wrought as Pallas might with pride behold.
+Young Aretus from forth his bride bower
+Brought the full laver, o'er their hands to pour,
+And canisters of consecrated flour.
+Stratius and Echephron the victim led;
+The axe was held by warlike Thrasymed,
+In act to strike; before him Perseus stood,
+The vase extending to receive the blood.
+The king himself initiates to the power:
+Scatters with quivering hand the sacred flour,
+And the stream sprinkles; from the curling brows
+The hair collected in the fire he throws.
+Soon as due vows on every part were paid,
+And sacred wheat upon the victim laid,
+Strong Thrasymed discharged the speeding blow
+Full on his neck, and cut the nerves in two.
+Down sunk the heavy beast; the females round
+Maids, wives, and matrons, mix a shrilling sound.
+Nor scorned the queen the holy choir to join
+(The first born she, of old Clymenus' line:
+In youth by Nestor loved, of spotless fame.
+And loved in age, Eurydice her name).
+From earth they rear him, struggling now with death;
+And Nestor's youngest stops the vents of breath.
+The soul for ever flies; on all sides round
+Streams the black blood, and smokes upon the ground
+The beast they then divide and disunite
+The ribs and limbs, observant of the rite:
+On these, in double cauls involved with art,
+The choicest morsels lay from every part.
+The sacred sage before his altar stands,
+Turns the burnt offering with his holy hands,
+And pours the wine, and bids the flames aspire;
+The youth with instruments surround the fire.
+The thighs now sacrificed, and entrails dress'd,
+The assistants part, transfix, and broil the rest
+While these officious tend the rites divine,
+The last fair branch of the Nestorean line,
+Sweet Polycaste, took the pleasing toil
+To bathe the prince, and pour the fragrant oil.
+O'er his fair limbs a flowery vest he throw,
+And issued, like a god, to mortal view.
+His former seat beside the king he found
+(His people's father with his peers around);
+All placed at ease the holy banquet join,
+And in the dazzling goblet laughs the wine.
+
+The rage of thirst and hunger now suppress'd,
+The monarch turns him to his royal guest;
+And for the promised journey bids prepare
+The smooth hair'd horses, and the rapid car.
+Observant of his word, tire word scarce spoke,
+The sons obey, and join them to the yoke.
+Then bread and wine a ready handmaid brings,
+And presents, such as suit the state of kings.
+The glittering seat Telemachus ascends;
+His faithful guide Pisistratus attends;
+With hasty hand the ruling reins he drew;
+He lash'd the coursers, and the coursers flew.
+Beneath the bounding yoke alike they hold
+Their equal pace, and smoked along the field.
+The towers of Pylos sink, its views decay,
+Fields after fields fly back, till close of day;
+Then sunk the sun, and darken'd all the way.
+
+To Pherae now, Diocleus' stately seat
+(Of Alpheus' race), the weary youths retreat.
+His house affords the hospitable rite,
+And pleased they sleep (the blessing of the night).
+But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
+With rosy lustre purpled o'er the lawn,
+Again they mount, their journey to renew,
+And from the sounding portico they flew.
+Along the waving fields their way they hold
+The fields receding as their chariot roll'd;
+Then slowly sunk the ruddy globe of light,
+And o'er the shaded landscape rush'd the night.
+
+
+
+BOOK IV.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+THE CONFERENCE WITH MENELAUS.
+
+Telemachus with Pisistratus arriving at Sparta, is hospitably
+received by Menelaus to whom he relates the cause of his coming,
+and learns from him many particulars of what befell the Greeks
+since the destruction of Troy. He dwells more at large upon the
+prophecies of Proteus to him in his return; from which he
+acquaints Telemachus that Ulysses is detained in the island of
+Calypso.
+
+In the meantime the suitors consult to destroy Telemachus on the
+voyage home. Penelope is apprised of this; but comforted in a
+dream by Pallas, in the shape of her sister Iphthima.
+
+
+
+And now proud Sparta with their wheels resounds,
+Sparta whose walls a range of hills surrounds;
+At the fair dome the rapid labour ends;
+Where sate Atrides 'midst his bridal friends,
+With double vows invoking Hymen's power,
+To bless his son's and daughter's nuptial hour.
+
+That day, to great Achilles son resign'd,
+Hermione, the fairest of her kind,
+Was sent to crown the long-protracted joy,
+Espoused before the final doom of Troy;
+With steeds and gilded cars, a gorgeous train
+Attend the nymphs to Phthia's distant reign.
+Meanwhile at home, to Megapentha's bed
+The virgin choir Alector's daughter led.
+Brave Megapenthas From a stolen amour
+To great Atrides' age his handmaid bore;
+To Helen's bed the gods alone assign
+Hermione, to extend the regal line;
+On whom a radiant pomp oh Graces wait,
+Resembling Venus in attractive state.
+
+While this gay friendly troop the king surround,
+With festival and mirth the roofs resound;
+A bard amid the joyous circle sings
+High airs attemper'd to the vocal strings;
+Whilst warbling to the varied strain, advance
+Two sprightly youths to form the bounding dance,
+'Twas then, that issuing through the palace gate,
+The splendid car roll'd slow in regal state:
+On the bright eminence young Nestor shone,
+And fast beside him great Ulysses' son;
+Grave Eteoneous saw the pomp appear,
+And speeding, thus address'd the royal ear;
+
+"Two youths approach, whose semblant features prove
+Their blood devolving from the source of Jove
+Is due reception deign'd, or must they bend
+Their doubtful course to seek a distant friend?"
+
+"Insensate! (with a sigh the king replies,)
+Too long, misjudging, have I thought thee wise
+But sure relentless folly steals thy breast,
+Obdurate to reject the stranger-guest;
+To those dear hospitable rites a foe,
+Which in my wanderings oft relieved my woe;
+Fed by the bounty of another's board,
+Till pitying Jove my native realm restored--
+Straight be the coursers from the car released,
+Conduct the youths to grace the genial feast."
+
+The seneschal, rebuked, in haste withdrew;
+With equal haste a menial train pursue:
+Part led the coursers, from the car enlarged,
+Each to a crib with choicest grain surcharged;
+Part in a portico, profusely graced
+With rich magnificence, the chariot placed;
+Then to the dome the friendly pair invite,
+Who eye the dazzling roofs with vast delight;
+Resplendent as the blaze of summer noon,
+Or the pale radiance of the midnight moon.
+From room to room their eager view they bend
+Thence to the bath, a beauteous pile, descend;
+Where a bright damsel train attends the guests
+With liquid odours, and embroider'd vests.
+Refresh'd, they wait them to the bower of state,
+Where, circled with his pears, Atrides sate;
+Throned next the king, a fair attendant brings
+The purest product of the crystal springs;
+High on a massy vase of silver mould,
+The burnish'd laver flames with solid gold,
+In solid gold the purple vintage flows,
+And on the board a second banquet rose.
+When thus the king, with hospitable port;
+"Accept this welcome to the Spartan court:
+The waste of nature let the feast repair,
+Then your high lineage and your names declare;
+Say from what sceptred ancestry ye claim,
+Recorded eminent in deathless fame,
+For vulgar parents cannot stamp their race
+With signatures of such majestic grace."
+
+Ceasing, benevolent he straight assigns
+The royal portion of the choicest chines
+To each accepted friend; with grateful haste
+They share the honours of the rich repast.
+Sufficed, soft whispering thus to Nestor's son,
+His head reclined, young Ithacus begun:
+
+"View'st thou unmoved, O ever-honour'd most!
+These prodigies of art, and wondrous cost!
+Above, beneath, around the palace shines
+The sunless treasure of exhausted mines;
+The spoils of elephants the roofs inlay,
+And studded amber darts the golden ray;
+Such, and not nobler, in the realms above
+My wonder dictates is the dome of Jove."
+
+The monarch took the word, and grave replied:
+"Presumptuous are the vaunts, and vain the pride
+Of man, who dares in pomp with Jove contest,
+Unchanged, immortal, and supremely blest!
+With all my affluence, when my woes are weigh'd,
+Envy will own the purchase dearly paid.
+For eight slow-circling years, by tempests toss'd,
+From Cypress to the far Phoenician coast
+(Sidon the capital), I stretch'd my toil
+Through regions fatten'd with the flows of Nile.
+Next Aethiopia's utmost bound explore,
+And the parch'd borders of the Arabian shore;
+Then warp my voyage on the southern gales,
+O'er the warm Lybian wave to spread my sails;
+That happy clime, where each revolving year
+The teeming ewes a triple offspring bear;
+And two fair crescents of translucent horn
+The brows of all their young increase adorn:
+The shepherd swains, with sure abundance blest,
+On the fat flock and rural dainties feast;
+Nor want of herbage makes the dairy fail,
+But every season fills the foaming pail.
+Whilst, heaping unwash'd wealth, I distant roam,
+The best of brothers, at his natal home,
+By the dire fury of a traitress wife,
+Ends the sad evening of a stormy life;
+Whence, with incessant grief my soul annoy'd,
+These riches are possess'd, but not enjoy'd!
+My wars, the copious theme of every tongue,
+To you your fathers have recorded long.
+How favouring Heaven repaid my glorious toils
+With a sack'd palace, and barbaric spoils.
+Oh! had the gods so large a boon denied
+And life, the just equivalent supplied
+To those brave warriors, who, with glory fired
+Far from their country, in my cause expired!
+Still in short intervals of pleasing woe.
+Regardful of the friendly dues I owe,
+I to the glorious dead, for ever dear!
+Indulge the tribute of a grateful tear.
+But oh! Ulysses--deeper than the rest
+That sad idea wounds my anxious breast!
+My heart bleeds fresh with agonizing pain;
+The bowl and tasteful viands tempt in vain;
+Nor sleep's soft power can close my streaming eyes,
+When imaged to my soul his sorrows rise.
+No peril in my cause he ceased to prove,
+His labours equall'd only by my love:
+And both alike to bitter fortune born,
+For him to suffer, and for me to mourn!
+Whether he wanders on some friendly coast,
+Or glides in Stygian gloom a pensive ghost,
+No fame reveals; but, doubtful of his doom,
+His good old sire with sorrow to the tomb
+Declines his trembling steps; untimely care
+Withers the blooming vigour of his heir;
+And the chaste partner of his bed and throne
+Wastes all her widow'd hours in tender moan."
+
+While thus pathetic to the prince he spoke,
+From the brave youth the streaming passion broke;
+Studious to veil the grief, in vain repress'd,
+His face he shrouded with his purple vest.
+The conscious monarch pierced the coy disguise,
+And view'd his filial love with vast surprise:
+Dubious to press the tender theme, or wait
+To hear the youth inquire his father's fate.
+In this suspense bright Helen graced the room;
+Before her breathed a gale of rich perfume.
+So moves, adorn'd with each attractive grace,
+The silver shafted goddess of the chase!
+The seat of majesty Adraste brings,
+With art illustrious, for the pomp of kings;
+To spread the pall (beneath the regal chair)
+Of softest wool, is bright Alcippe's care.
+A silver canister, divinely wrought,
+In her soft hands the beauteous Phylo brought;
+To Sparta's queen of old the radiant vase
+Alcandra gave, a pledge of royal grace;
+For Polybus her lord (whose sovereign sway
+The wealthy tribes of Pharian Thebes obey),
+When to that court Atrides came, caress'd
+With vast munificence the imperial guest:
+Two lavers from the richest ore refined,
+With silver tripods, the kind host assign'd;
+And bounteous from the royal treasure told
+Ten equal talents of refulgent gold.
+Alcandra, consort of his high command,
+A golden distaff gave to Helen's hand;
+And that rich vase, with living sculpture wrought,
+Which heap'd with wool the beauteous Phylo brought
+The silken fleece, impurpled for the loom,
+Rivall'd the hyacinth in vernal bloom.
+The sovereign seat then Jove born Helen press'd,
+And pleasing thus her sceptred lord address'd:
+
+"Who grace our palace now, that friendly pair,
+Speak they their lineage, or their names declare?
+Uncertain of the truth, yet uncontroll'd,
+Hear me the bodings of my breast unfold.
+With wonder wrapp'd on yonder check I trace
+The feature of the Ulyssean race:
+Diffused o'er each resembling line appear,
+In just similitude, the grace and air
+Of young Telemachus! the lovely boy,
+Who bless'd Ulysses with a father's joy,
+What time the Greeks combined their social arms,
+To avenge the stain of my ill-fated charms!"
+
+"Just is thy thought, (the king assenting cries,)
+Methinks Ulysses strikes my wondering eyes;
+Full shines the father in the filial frame,
+His port, his features, and his shape the same;
+Such quick regards his sparkling eyes bestow;
+Such wavy ringlets o'er his shoulders flow
+And when he heard the long disastrous store
+Of cares, which in my cause Ulysses bore;
+Dismay'd, heart-wounded with paternal woes,
+Above restraint the tide of sorrow rose;
+Cautious to let the gushing grief appear,
+His purple garment veil'd the falling tear."
+
+"See there confess'd (Pisistratus replies)
+The genuine worth of Ithacus the wise!
+Of that heroic sire the youth is sprung,
+But modest awe hath chain'd his timorous tongue.
+Thy voice, O king! with pleased attention heard,
+Is like the dictates of a god revered.
+With him, at Nestor's high command, I came,
+Whose age I honour with a parent's name.
+By adverse destiny constrained to sue
+For counsel and redress, he sues to you
+Whatever ill the friendless orphan bears,
+Bereaved of parents in his infant years,
+Still must the wrong'd Telemachus sustain,
+If, hopeful of your aid, he hopes in vain;
+Affianced in your friendly power alone,
+The youth would vindicate the vacant throne."
+
+"Is Sparta blest, and these desiring eyes
+View my friend's son? (the king exalting cries;)
+Son of my friend, by glorious toils approved,
+Whose sword was sacred to the man he loved;
+Mirror of constant faith, revered and mourn'd--
+When Troy was ruin'd, had the chief return'd,
+No Greek an equal space had ere possess'd,
+Of dear affection, in my grateful breast.
+I, to confirm the mutual joys we shared,
+For his abode a capital prepared;
+Argos, the seat of sovereign rule, I chose;
+Fair in the plan the future palace rose,
+Where my Ulysses and his race might reign,
+And portion to his tribes the wide domain,
+To them my vassals had resign'd a soil,
+With teeming plenty to reward their toil.
+There with commutual zeal we both had strove
+In acts of dear benevolence and love:
+Brothers in peace, not rivals in command,
+And death alone dissolved the friendly band!
+Some envious power the blissful scene destroys;
+Vanish'd are all the visionary joys;
+The soul of friendship to my hope is lost,
+Fated to wander from his natal coast!"
+
+He ceased; a gush of grief began to rise:
+Fast streams a tide from beauteous Helen's eyes;
+Fast for the sire the filial sorrows flow;
+The weeping monarch swells the mighty woe;
+Thy cheeks, Pisistratus, the tears bedew,
+While pictured so thy mind appear'd in view,
+Thy martial brother; on the Phrygian plain
+Extended pale, by swarthy Memnon slain!
+But silence soon the son of Nestor broke,
+And melting with fraternal pity, spoke:
+
+"Frequent, O king, was Nestor wont to raise
+And charm attention with thy copious praise;
+To crowd thy various gifts, the sage assign'd
+The glory of a firm capacious mind;
+With that superior attribute control
+This unavailing impotence of soul,
+Let not your roof with echoing grief resound,
+Now for the feast the friendly bowl is crown'd;
+But when, from dewy shade emerging bright,
+Aurora streaks the sky with orient light,
+Let each deplore his dead; the rites of woe
+Are all, alas! the living can bestow;
+O'er the congenial dust enjoin'd to shear
+The graceful curl, and drop the tender tear.
+Then, mingling in the mournful pomp with you,
+I'll pay my brother's ghost a warrior's due,
+And mourn the brave Antilochus, a name
+Not unrecorded in the rolls of fame;
+With strength and speed superior form'd, in fight
+To face the foe, or intercept his flight;
+Too early snatch'd by fate ere known to me!
+I boast a witness of his worth in thee."
+
+"Young and mature! (the monarch thus rejoins,)
+In thee renew'd the soul of Nestor shines;
+Form'd by the care of that consummate sage,
+In early bloom an oracle of age.
+Whene'er his influence Jove vouchsafes to shower,
+To bless the natal and the nuptial hour;
+From the great sire transmissive to the race,
+The boon devolving gives distinguish'd grace.
+Such, happy Nestor! was thy glorious doom,
+Around thee, full of years, thy offspring bloom.
+Expert of arms, and prudent in debate;
+The gifts of Heaven to guard thy hoary state.
+But now let each becalm his troubled breast,
+Wash, and partake serene the friendly feast.
+To move thy suit, Telemachus, delay,
+Till heaven's revolving lamp restores the day."
+
+He said, Asphalion swift the laver brings;
+Alternate, all partake the grateful springs;
+Then from the rites of purity repair,
+And with keen gust the savoury viands share.
+Meantime, with genial joy to warm the soul,
+Bright Helen mix'd a mirth inspiring bowl;
+Temper'd with drugs of sovereign use, to assuage
+The boiling bosom of tumultuous rage;
+To clear the cloudy front of wrinkled Care,
+And dry the tearful sluices of Despair;
+Charm'd with that virtuous draught, the exalted mind
+All sense of woe delivers to the wind.
+Though on the blazing pile his parent lay.
+Or a loved brother groan'd his life away.
+Or darling son, oppress'd by ruffian force,
+Fell breathless at his feet, a mangled corse;
+From morn to eve, impassive and serene,
+The man entranced would view the dreadful scene
+These drugs, so friendly to the joys of life.
+Bright Helen learn'd from Thone's imperial wife;
+Who sway'd the sceptre, where prolific Nile
+With various simples clothes the fatten'd soil.
+With wholesome herbage mix'd, the direful bane
+Of vegetable venom taints the plain;
+From Paeon sprung, their patron-god imparts
+To all the Pharian race his healing arts.
+The beverage now prepared to inspire the feast,
+The circle thus the beauteous queen addressed:
+
+"Throned in omnipotence, supremest Jove
+Tempers the fates of human race above;
+By the firm sanction of his sovereign will,
+Alternate are decreed our good and ill.
+To feastful mirth be this white hour assign'd.
+And sweet discourse, the banquet of the mind
+Myself, assisting in the social joy,
+Will tell Ulysses' bold exploit in Troy,
+Sole witness of the deed I now declare
+Speak you (who saw) his wonders in the war.
+
+"Seam'd o'er with wounds, which his own sabre gave,
+In the vile habit of a village slave,
+The foe deceived, he pass'd the tented plain,
+In Troy to mingle with the hostile train.
+In this attire secure from searching eyes,
+Till happily piercing through the dark disguise,
+The chief I challenged; he, whose practised wit
+Knew all the serpent mazes of deceit,
+Eludes my search; but when his form I view'd
+Fresh from the bath, with fragrant oils renew'd,
+His limbs in military purple dress'd,
+Each brightening grace the genuine Greek confess'd.
+A previous pledge of sacred faith obtain'd,
+Till he the lines and Argive fleet regain'd,
+To keep his stay conceal'd; the chief declared
+The plans of war against the town prepared.
+Exploring then the secrets of the state,
+He learn'd what best might urge the Dardan fate;
+And, safe returning to the Grecian host,
+Sent many a shade to Pluto's dreary coast.
+Loud grief resounded through the towers of Troy,
+But my pleased bosom glow'd with secret joy:
+For then, with dire remorse and conscious shame
+I view'd the effects of that disastrous flame.
+Which, kindled by the imperious queen of love,
+Constrain'd me from my native realm to rove:
+And oft in bitterness of soul deplored
+My absent daughter and my dearer lord;
+Admired among the first of human race,
+For every gift of mind and manly grace."
+
+"Right well (replied the king) your speech displays
+The matchless merit of the chief you praise:
+Heroes in various climes myself have found,
+For martial deeds and depth of thought renown'd;
+But Ithacus, unrivall'd in his claim,
+May boast a title to the loudest fame:
+In battle calm he guides the rapid storm,
+Wise to resolve, and patient to perform.
+What wondrous conduct in the chief appear'd,
+When the vast fabric of the steed we rear'd!
+Some demon, anxious for the Trojan doom,
+Urged you with great Deiphobus to come,
+To explore the fraud; with guile opposed to guile.
+Slow-pacing thrice around the insidious pile,
+Each noted leader's name you thrice invoke,
+Your accent varying as their spouses spoke!
+The pleasing sounds each latent warrior warm'd,
+But most Tydides' and coy heart alarm'd:
+To quit the steed we both impatient press
+Threatening to answer from the dark recess.
+Unmoved the mind of Ithacus remain'd;
+And the vain ardours of our love restrain'd;
+But Anticlus, unable to control,
+Spoke loud the language of his yearning soul:
+Ulysses straight, with indignation fired
+(For so the common care of Greece required),
+Firm to his lips his forceful hands applied,
+Till on his tongue the fluttering murmurs died.
+Meantime Minerva, from the fraudful horse,
+Back to the court of Priam bent your course."
+
+"Inclement fate! (Telemachus replies,)
+Frail is the boasted attribute of wise:
+The leader mingling with the vulgar host,
+Is in the common mass of matter lost!
+But now let sleep the painful waste repair
+Of sad reflection and corroding care."
+He ceased; the menial fair that round her wait,
+At Helen's beck prepare the room of state;
+Beneath an ample portico they spread
+The downy fleece to form the slumberous bed;
+And o'er soft palls of purple grain unfold
+Rich tapestry, stiff with interwoven gold:
+Then, through the illumined dome, to balmy rest
+The obsequious herald guides each princely guest;
+While to his regal bower the king ascends,
+And beauteous Helen on her lord attends.
+Soon as the morn, in orient purple dress'd,
+Unbarr'd the portal of the roseate east,
+The monarch rose; magnificent to view,
+The imperial mantle o'er his vest he threw;
+The glittering zone athwart his shoulders cast,
+A starry falchion low-depending graced;
+Clasp'd on his feet the embroidered sandals shine;
+And forth he moves, majestic and divine,
+Instant to young Telemachus he press'd;
+And thus benevolent his speech addressed:
+
+"Say, royal youth, sincere of soul report
+Whit cause hath led you to the Spartan court?
+Do public or domestic care constrain
+This toilsome voyage o'er the surgy main?"
+
+"O highly-flavour'd delegate of Jove!
+(Replies the prince) inflamed with filial love,
+And anxious hope, to hear my parent's doom,
+A suppliant to your royal court I come:
+Our sovereign seat a lewd usurping race
+With lawless riot and misrule disgrace;
+To pamper'd insolence devoted fall
+Prime of the flock, and choicest of the stall:
+For wild ambition wings their bold desire,
+And all to mount the imperial bed aspire.
+But prostrate I implore, O king! relate
+The mournful series of my father's fate:
+Each known disaster of the man disclose,
+Born by his mother to a world of woes!
+Recite them; nor in erring pity fear
+To wound with storied grief the filial ear.
+If e'er Ulysses, to reclaim your right,
+Avow'd his zeal in council or in fight,
+If Phrygian camps the friendly toils attest,
+To the sire's merit give the son's request."
+
+Deep from his inmost soul Atrides sigh'd,
+And thus, indignant, to the prince replied:
+"Heavens! would a soft, inglorious, dastard train
+An absent hero's nuptial joys profane!
+So with her young, amid the woodland shades,
+A timorous hind the lion's court invades,
+Leaves in the fatal lair the tender fawns,
+Climbs the green cliff, or feeds the flowery lawns:
+Meantime return'd, with dire remorseless sway,
+The monarch-savage rends the trembling prey.
+With equal fury, and with equal fame,
+Ulysses soon shall reassert his claim.
+O Jove supreme, whom gods and men revere!
+And thou! to whom 'tis given to gild the sphere!
+With power congenial join'd, propitious aid
+The chief adopted by the martial maid!
+Such to our wish the warrior soon restore,
+As when contending on the Lesbian shore
+His prowess Philomelidies confess'd,
+And loud-acclaiming Greeks the victor bless'd;
+Then soon the invaders of his bed and throne
+Their love presumptuous shall with life atone.
+With patient ear, O royal youth, attend
+The storied labour of thy father's friend:
+Fruitful of deeds, the copious tale is long,
+But truth severe shall dictate to my tongue:
+Learn what I heard the sea-born seer relate,
+Whose eye can pierce the dark recess of fate.
+
+"Long on the Egyptian coast by calms confined,
+Heaven to my fleet refused a prosperous wind;
+No vows had we preferr'd, nor victims slain!
+For this the gods each favouring gale restrain
+Jealous, to see their high behests obey'd;
+Severe, if men the eternal rights evade.
+High o'er a gulfy sea, the Pharian isle
+Fronts the deep roar of disemboguing Nile:
+Her distance from the shore, the course begun
+At dawn, and ending with the setting sun,
+A galley measures; when the stiffer gales
+Rise on the poop, and fully stretch the sails.
+There, anchor'd vessels safe in harbour lie,
+Whilst limpid springs the failing cask supply.
+
+"And now the twentieth sun, descending, laves
+His glowing axle in the western waves:
+Still with expanded sails we court in vain
+Propitious winds to waft us o'er the main;
+And the pale mariner at once deplores
+His drooping vigour and exhausted stores.
+When lo! a bright cerulean form appears,
+Proteus her sire divine. With pity press'd,
+Me sole the daughter of the deep address'd;
+What time, with hunger pined, my absent mates
+Roam the wide isle in search of rural cates,
+Bait the barb'd steel, and from the fishy flood
+Appease the afflictive fierce desire of food."
+
+"'Whoe'er thou art (the azure goddess cries)
+Thy conduct ill-deserves the praise of wise:
+Is death thy choice, or misery thy boast,
+That here inglorious, on a barren coast,
+Thy brave associates droop, a meagre train,
+With famine pale, and ask thy care in vain?'
+"Struck with the loud reproach, I straight reply:
+'Whate'er thy title in thy native sky,
+A goddess sure! for more than moral grace
+Speaks thee descendant of ethereal race;
+Deem not that here of choice my fleet remains;
+Some heavenly power averse my stay constrains:
+O, piteous of my fate, vouchsafe to show
+(For what's sequester'd from celestial view?)
+What power becalms the innavigable seas?
+What guilt provokes him, and what vows appease?'
+
+"I ceased, when affable the goddess cried:
+'Observe, and in the truths I speak confide;
+The oracular seer frequents the Pharian coast,
+From whose high bed my birth divine I boast;
+Proteus, a name tremendous o'er the main,
+The delegate of Neptune's watery reign.
+Watch with insidious care his known abode;
+There fast in chains constrain the various god;
+Who bound, obedient to superior force,
+Unerring will prescribe your destined course.
+If, studious on your realms, you then demand
+Their state, since last you left your natal land,
+Instant the god obsequious will disclose
+Bright tracts of glory or a cloud of woes.'
+
+"She ceased; and suppliant thus I made reply:
+'O goddess I on thy aid my hopes rely;
+Dictate propitious to my duteous ear,
+What arts can captivate the changeful seer;
+For perilous the assay, unheard the toil,
+To elude the prescience of a god by guile.'
+
+"Thus to the goddess mild my suit I end.
+Then she: 'Obedient to my rule attend:
+When through the zone of heaven the mounted sun
+Hath journeyed half, and half remains to run;
+The seer, while zephyrs curl the swelling deep,
+Basks on the breezy shore, in grateful sleep,
+His oozy limbs. Emerging from the wave,
+The Phocas swift surround his rocky cave,
+Frequent and full; the consecrated train
+Of her, whose azure trident awes the main;
+There wallowing warm, the enormous herd exhales
+An oily steam, and taints the noontide gales.
+To that recess, commodious for surprise,
+When purple light shall next suffuse the skies,
+With me repair; and from thy warrior-band
+Three chosen chiefs of dauntless soul command;
+Let their auxiliar force befriend the toil;
+For strong the god, and perfected in guile.
+Strech'd on the shelly shore, he first surveys
+The flouncing herd ascending from the seas;
+Their number summ'd, reposed in sleep profound
+The scaly charge their guardian god surround;
+So with his battening flocks the careful swain
+Abides pavilion'd on the grassy plain.
+With powers united, obstinately bold,
+Invade him, couch'd amid the scaly fold;
+Instant he wears, elusive of the rape,
+The mimic force of every savage shape;
+Or glides with liquid lapse a murmuring stream,
+Or, wrapp'd in flame, he glows at every limb.
+Yet, still retentive, with redoubled might,
+Through each vain passive form constrain his flight
+But when, his native shape renamed, he stands
+Patient of conquest, and your cause demands;
+The cause that urged the bold attempt declare,
+And soothe the vanquish'd with a victor's prayer.
+The bands releas'd, implore the seer to say
+What godhead interdicts the watery way.
+Who, straight propitious, in prophetic strain
+Will teach you to repass the unmeasured main.
+She ceased, and bounding from the shelfy shore,
+Round the descending nymph the waves resounding roar.
+
+"High wrapp'd in wonder of the future deed,
+with joy impetuous to the port I speed:
+The wants of nature with repast suffice,
+Till night with grateful shade involved the skies,
+And shed ambrosial dews. Fast by the deep,
+Along the tented shore, in balmy sleep,
+Our cares were lost. When o'er the eastern lawn,
+In saffron robes, the daughter of the dawn
+Advanced her rosy steps, before the bay
+Due ritual honours to the gods I pay;
+Then seek the place the sea-born nymph assign'd,
+With three associates of undaunted mind.
+Arrived, to form along the appointed strand
+For each a bed, she scoops the hilly sand;
+Then, from her azure cave the finny spoils
+Of four vast Phocae takes, to veil her wiles;
+Beneath the finny spoils extended prone,
+Hard toil! the prophet's piercing eye to shun;
+New from the corse, the scaly frauds diffuse
+Unsavoury stench of oil, and brackish ooze;
+But the bright sea-maid's gentle power implored,
+With nectar'd drops the sickening sense restored.
+
+"Thus till the sun had travell'd half the skies,
+Ambush'd we lie, and wait the bold emprise;
+When, thronging quick to bask in open air,
+The flocks of ocean to the strand repair;
+Couch'd on the sunny sand, the monsters sleep;
+Then Proteus, mounting from the hoary deep,
+Surveys his charge, unknowing of deceit;
+(In order told, we make the sum complete.)
+Pleased with the false review, secure he lies,
+And leaden slumbers press his drooping eyes.
+Rushing impetuous forth, we straight prepare
+A furious onset with the sound of war,
+And shouting seize the god; our force to evade,
+His various arts he soon resumes in aid;
+A lion now, he curls a surgy mane;
+Sudden our hands a spotted paid restrain;
+Then, arm'd with tusks, and lightning in his eyes,
+A boar's obscener shape the god belies;
+On spiry volumes, there a dragon rides;
+Here, from our strict embrace a stream he glides.
+At last, sublime, his stately growth he rears
+A tree, and well-dissembled foliage wears.
+Vain efforts with superior power compress'd,
+Me with reluctance thus the seer address'd;
+'Say, son of Atreus, say what god inspired
+This daring fraud, and what the boon desired?'
+I thus: 'O thou, whose certain eye foresees
+The fix'd event of fate's remote decrees;
+After long woes, and various toil endured,
+Still on this desert isle my fleet is moor'd,
+Unfriended of the gales.  All-knowing, say,
+What godhead interdicts the watery way?
+What vows repentant will the power appease,
+To speed a prosperous voyage o'er the seas.'
+
+"'To Jove (with stern regard the god replies)
+And all the offended synod of the skies,
+Just hecatombs with due devotion slain,
+Thy guilt absolved, a prosperous voyage gain.
+To the firm sanction of thy fate attend!
+An exile thou, nor cheering face of friend,
+Nor sight of natal shore, nor regal dome,
+Shalt yet enjoy, but still art doom'd to roam.
+Once more the Nile, who from the secret source
+Of Jove's high seat descends with sweepy force,
+Must view his billows white beneath thy oar,
+And altars blaze along his sanguine shore.
+Then will the gods with holy pomp adored,
+To thy long vows a safe return accord.'
+
+"He ceased: heart wounded with afflictive pain,
+(Doom'd to repeat the perils of the main,
+A shelfy track and long!) 'O seer' I cry,
+'To the stern sanction of the offended sky
+My prompt obedience bows. But deign to say
+What fate propitious, or what dire dismay,
+Sustain those peers, the relics of our host,
+Whom I with Nestor on the Phrygian coast
+Embracing left? Must I the warriors weep,
+Whelm'd in the bottom of the monstrous deep?
+Or did the kind domestic friend deplore
+The breathless heroes on their native shore?
+
+"'Press not too far,' replied the god: 'but cease
+To know what, known, will violate thy peace;
+Too curious of their doom! with friendly woe
+Thy breast will heave, and tears eternal flow.
+Part live! the rest, a lamentable train!
+Range the dark bounds of Pluto's dreary reign.
+Two, foremost in the roll of Mars renown'd,
+Whose arms with conquest in thy cause were crown'd,
+Fell by disastrous fate: by tempests toss'd,
+A third lives wretched on a distant coast.
+
+"By Neptune rescued from Minerva's hate,
+On Gyrae, safe Oilean Ajax sate,
+His ship o'erwhelm'd; but, frowning on the floods,
+Impious he roar'd defiance to the gods;
+To his own prowess all the glory gave:
+The power defrauding who vouchsafed to save.
+This heard the raging ruler of the main;
+His spear, indignant for such high disdain,
+He launched; dividing with his forky mace
+The aerial summit from the marble base:
+The rock rush'd seaward, with impetuous roar
+Ingulf'd, and to the abyss the boaster bore.
+
+"By Juno's guardian aid, the watery vast,
+Secure of storms, your royal brother pass'd,
+Till, coasting nigh the cape where Malen shrouds
+Her spiry cliffs amid surrounding clouds,
+A whirling gust tumultuous from the shore
+Across the deep his labouring vessel bore.
+In an ill-fated hour the coast he gain'd,
+Where late in regal pomp Thyestes reigned;
+But, when his hoary honours bow'd to fate,
+Aegysthus govern'd in paternal state,
+The surges now subside, the tempest ends;
+From his tall ship the king of men descends;
+There fondly thinks the gods conclude his toil:
+Far from his own domain salutes the soil;
+With rapture oft the urge of Greece reviews,
+And the dear turf with tears of joy bedews.
+Him, thus exulting on the distant stand,
+A spy distinguish'd from his airy stand;
+To bribe whose vigilance, Aegysthus told
+A mighty sum of ill-persuading gold:
+There watch'd this guardian of his guilty fear,
+Till the twelfth moon had wheel'd her pale career;
+And now, admonish'd by his eye, to court
+With terror wing'd conveys the dread report.
+Of deathful arts expert, his lord employs
+The ministers of blood in dark surprise;
+And twenty youths, in radiant mail incased,
+Close ambush'd nigh the spacious hall he placed.
+Then bids prepare the hospitable treat:
+Vain shows of love to veil his felon hate!
+To grace the victor's welcome from the wars,
+A train of coursers and triumphal cars
+Magnificent he leads: the royal guest,
+Thoughtless of ill, accepts the fraudful feast.
+The troop forth-issuing from the dark recess,
+With homicidal rage the king oppress!
+So, whilst he feeds luxurious in the stall,
+The sovereign of the herd is doomed to fall,
+The partners of his fame and toils at Troy,
+Around their lord, a mighty ruin, lie:
+Mix'd with the brave, the base invaders bleed;
+Aegysthus sole survives to boast the deed."
+
+He said: chill horrors shook my shivering soul,
+Rack'd wish convulsive pangs in dust I roll;
+And hate, in madness of extreme despair,
+To view the sun, or breathe the vital air.
+But when, superior to the rage of woe,
+I stood restored and tears had ceased to flow,
+Lenient of grief the pitying god began:
+'Forget the brother, and resume the man.
+To Fate's supreme dispose the dead resign,
+That care be Fate's, a speedy passage thine
+Still lives the wretch who wrought the death deplored,
+But lives a victim for thy vengeful sword;
+Unless with filial rage Orestes glow,
+And swift prevent the meditated blow:
+You timely will return a welcome guest,
+With him to share the sad funereal feast."
+
+"He said: new thoughts my beating heart employ,
+My gloomy soul receives a gleam of joy.
+Fair hope revives; and eager I address'd
+The prescient godhead to reveal the rest:
+'The doom decreed of those disastrous two
+I've heard with pain, but oh! the tale pursue;
+What third brave son of Mars the Fates constrain
+To roam the howling desert of the main;
+Or, in eternal shade of cold he lies,
+Provoke new sorrows from these grateful eyes.'
+
+"'That chief (rejoin'd the god) his race derives
+From Ithaca, and wondrous woes survives;
+Laertes' son: girt with circumfluous tides,
+He still calamitous constraint abides.
+Him in Calypso's cave of late! view'd,
+When streaming grief his faded cheek bedow'd.
+But vain his prayer, his arts are vain, to move
+The enamour'd goddess, or elude her love:
+His vessel sunk, and dear companions lost,
+He lives reluctant on a foreign coast.
+But oh, beloved by Heaven! reserved to thee
+A happier lot the smiling Fates decree:
+Free from that law, beneath whose mortal sway
+Matter is changed, and varying forms decay,
+Elysium shall be thine: the blissful plains
+Of utmost earth, where Rhadamanthus reigns.
+Joys ever young, unmix'd with pain or fear,
+Fill the wide circle of the eternal year:
+Stern winter smiles on that auspicious clime:
+The fields are florid with unfading prime;
+From the bleak pole no winds inclement blow,
+Mould the round hail, or flake the fleecy snow;
+But from the breezy deep the blest inhale
+The fragrant murmurs of the western gale.
+This grace peculiar will the gods afford
+To thee, the son of Jove, and beauteous Helen's lord.'
+
+"He ceased, and plunging in the vast profound,
+Beneath the god and whirling billows bound.
+Then speeding back, involved in various thought,
+My friends attending at the shore I sought,
+Arrived, the rage of hunger we control
+Till night with silent shade invests the pole;
+Then lose the cares of life in pleasing rest.
+Soon as the morn reveals the roseate east,
+With sails we wing the masts, our anchors weigh,
+Unmoor the fleet, and rush into the sea.
+Ranged on the banks, beneath our equal oars
+White curl the waves, and the vex'd ocean roars
+Then, steering backward from the Pharian isle,
+We gain the stream of Jove-descended Nile;
+There quit the ships, and on the destined shore
+With ritual hecatombs the gods adore;
+Their wrath atoned, to Agamemnon's name
+A cenotaph I raise of deathless fame.
+These rites to piety and grief discharged,
+The friendly gods a springing gale enlarged;
+The fleet swift tilting o'er the surges flew,
+Till Grecian cliffs appear'd a blissful view!
+
+"Thy patient ear hath heard me long relate
+A story, fruitful of disastrous fate.
+And now, young prince, indulge my fond request;
+Be Sparta honoured with his royal guest,
+Till, from his eastern goal, the joyous sun
+His twelfth diurnal race begins to run.
+Meantime my train the friendly gifts prepare,
+The sprightly coursers and a polish'd car;
+With these a goblet of capacious mould,
+Figured with art to dignify the gold
+(Form'd for libation to the gods), shall prove
+A pledge and monument of sacred love."
+
+"My quick return (young Ithacus rejoin'd),
+Damps the warm wishes of my raptured mind;
+Did not my fate my needful haste constrain,
+Charm'd by your speech so graceful and humane,
+Lost in delight the circling year would roll,
+While deep attention fix'd my listening soul.
+But now to Pyle permit my destined way,
+My loved associates chide my long delay:
+In dear remembrance of your royal grace,
+I take the present of the promised vase;
+The coursers, for the champaign sports retain;
+That gift our barren rocks will render vain:
+Horrid with cliffs, our meagre land allows
+Thin herbage for the mountain goat to browse,
+But neither mead nor plain supplies, to feed
+The sprightly courser, or indulge his speed:
+To sea-surrounded realms the gods assign
+Small tract of fertile lawn, the least to mine."
+
+His hand the king with tender passion press'd,
+And, smiling, thus the royal youth address'd:
+"O early worth! a soul so wise, and young,
+Proclaims you from the sage Ulysses sprung.
+Selected from my stores, of matchless price,
+An urn shall recompense your prudent choice;
+By Vulcan's art, the verge with gold enchased.
+A pledge the sceptred power of Sidon gave,
+When to his realm I plough'd the orient wave."
+
+Thus they alternate; while, with artful care,
+The menial train the regal feast prepare.
+The firstlings of the flock are doom'd to die:
+Rich fragrant wines the cheering bowl supply;
+A female band the gift of Ceres bring;
+And the gilt roofs with genial triumph ring.
+
+Meanwhile, in Ithaca, the suitor powers
+In active games divide their jovial hours;
+In areas varied with mosaic art,
+Some whirl the disk, and some the javelin dart,
+Aside, sequester'd from the vast resort,
+Antinous sole spectator of the sport;
+With great Eurymachus, of worth confess'd,
+And high descent, superior to the rest;
+Whom young Noemon lowly thus address'd:--
+
+"My ship, equipp'd within the neighboring port,
+The prince, departing for the Pylian court,
+Requested for his speed; but, courteous, say
+When steers he home, or why this long delay?
+For Elis I should sail with utmost speed.
+To import twelve mares which there luxurious feed,
+And twelve young mules, a strong laborious race,
+New to the plow, unpractised in the trace."
+
+Unknowing of the course to Pyle design'd,
+A sudden horror seized on either mind;
+The prince in rural bower they fondly thought,
+Numbering his flocks and herds, not far remote.
+"Relate (Antinous cries), devoid of guile,
+When spread the prince his sale for distant Pyle?
+Did chosen chiefs across the gulfy main
+Attend his voyage, or domestic train?
+Spontaneous did you speed his secret course,
+Or was the vessel seized by fraud or force?"
+
+"With willing duty, not reluctant mind
+(Noemon cried), the vessel was resign'd,
+Who, in the balance, with the great affairs
+Of courts presume to weigh their private cares?
+With him, the peerage next in power to you;
+And Mentor, captain of the lordly crew,
+Or some celestial in his reverend form,
+Safe from the secret rock and adverse storm,
+Pilot's the course; for when the glimmering ray
+Of yester dawn disclosed the tender day,
+Mentor himself I saw, and much admired,"
+Then ceased the youth, and from the court retired.
+
+Confounded and appall'd, the unfinish'd game
+The suitors quit, and all to council came.
+Antinous first the assembled peers address'd.
+Rage sparkling in his eyes, and burning in his breast
+
+"O shame to manhood! shall one daring boy
+The scheme of all our happiness destroy?
+Fly unperceived, seducing half the flower
+Of nobles, and invite a foreign power?
+The ponderous engine raised to crush us all,
+Recoiling, on his head is sure to fall.
+Instant prepare me, on the neighbouring strand,
+With twenty chosen mates a vessel mann'd;
+For ambush'd close beneath the Samian shore
+His ship returning shall my spies explore;
+He soon his rashness shall with life atone,
+Seek for his father's fate, but find his own."
+
+With vast applause the sentence all approve;
+Then rise, and to the feastful hall remove;
+Swift to the queen the herald Medon ran,
+Who heard the consult of the dire divan:
+Before her dome the royal matron stands,
+And thus the message of his haste demands;
+
+"What will the suitors? must my servant-train
+The allotted labours of the day refrain,
+For them to form some exquisite repast?
+Heaven grant this festival may prove their last!
+Or, if they still must live, from me remove
+The double plague of luxury and love!
+Forbear, ye sons of insolence! forbear,
+In riot to consume a wretched heir.
+In the young soul illustrious thought to raise,
+Were ye not tutor'd with Ulysses' praise?
+Have not your fathers oft my lord defined,
+Gentle of speech, beneficent of mind?
+Some kings with arbitrary rage devour,
+Or in their tyrant-minions vest the power;
+Ulysses let no partial favours fall,
+The people's parent, he protected all;
+But absent now, perfidious and ingrate!
+His stores ye ravage, and usurp his state."
+
+He thus: "O were the woes you speak the worst!
+They form a deed more odious and accursed;
+More dreadful than your boding soul divines;
+But pitying Jove avert the dire designs!
+The darling object of your royal care
+Is marked to perish in a deathful snare;
+Before he anchors in his native port,
+From Pyle re-sailing and the Spartan court;
+Horrid to speak! in ambush is decreed
+The hope and heir of Ithaca to bleed!"
+
+Sudden she sunk beneath the weighty woes,
+The vital streams a chilling horror froze;
+The big round tear stands trembling in her eye,
+And on her tongue imperfect accents die.
+At length in tender language interwove
+With sighs, she thus expressed her anxious love;
+"Why rarely would my son his fate explore,
+Ride the wild waves, and quit the safer shore?
+Did he with all the greatly wretched, crave
+A blank oblivion, and untimely grave?"
+
+"Tis not (replied the sage) to Medon given
+To know, if some inhabitant of heaven
+In his young breast the daring thought inspired
+Or if, alone with filial duty fired,
+The winds end waves he tempts in early bloom,
+Studious to learn his absent father's doom."
+
+The sage retired: unable to control
+The mighty griefs that swell her labouring soul
+Rolling convulsive on the floor is seen
+The piteous object of a prostrate queen.
+Words to her dumb complaint a pause supplies,
+And breath, to waste in unavailing cries.
+Around their sovereign wept the menial fair,
+To whom she thus address'd her deep despair:
+
+"Behold a wretch whom all the gods consign
+To woe! Did ever sorrows equal mine?
+Long to my joys my dearest lord is lost,
+His country's buckler, and the Grecian boast;
+Now from my fond embrace, by tempests torn,
+Our other column of the state is borne;
+Nor took a kind adieu, nor sought consent!--
+Unkind confederates in his dire intent!
+Ill suits it with your shows of duteous zeal,
+From me the purposed voyage to conceal;
+Though at the solemn midnight hour he rose,
+Why did you fear to trouble my repose?
+He either had obey'd my fond desire,
+Or seen his mother pierced with grief expire.
+Bid Dolius quick attend, the faithful slave
+Whom to my nuptial train Icarius gave
+To tend the fruit groves: with incessant speed
+He shall this violence of death decreed
+To good Laertes tell.  Experienced age
+May timely intercept the ruffian rage.
+Convene the tribes the murderous plot reveal,
+And to their power to save his race appeal."
+
+Then Euryclea thus: "My dearest dread;
+Though to the sword I bow this hoary head,
+Or if a dungeon be the pain decreed,
+I own me conscious of the unpleasing deed;
+Auxiliar to his flight, my aid implored,
+With wine and viands I the vessel stored;
+A solemn oath, imposed, the secret seal'd,
+Till the twelfth dawn the light of day reveal'd.
+Dreading the effect of a fond mother's fear,
+He dared not violate your royal ear.
+But bathe, and, in imperial robes array'd,
+Pay due devotions to the martial maid,
+And rest affianced in her guardian aid.
+Send not to good Laertes, nor engage
+In toils of state the miseries of age:
+Tis impious to surmise the powers divine
+To ruin doom the Jove-descended line;
+Long shall the race of just Arcesius reign,
+And isles remote enlarge his old domain."
+
+The queen her speech with calm attention hears,
+Her eyes restrain the silver-streaming tears:
+She bathes, and robed, the sacred dome ascends;
+Her pious speed a female train attends:
+The salted cakes in canisters are laid,
+And thus the queen invokes Minerva's aid;
+
+"Daughter divine of Jove, whose arm can wield
+The avenging bolt, and shake the dreadful shield
+If e'er Ulysses to thy fane preferr'd
+The best and choicest of his flock and herd;
+Hear, goddess, hear, by those oblations won;
+And for the pious sire preserve the son;
+His wish'd return with happy power befriend,
+And on the suitors let thy wrath descend."
+
+She ceased; shrill ecstasies of joy declare
+The favouring goddess present to the prayer;
+The suitors heard, and deem'd the mirthful voice
+A signal of her hymeneal choice;
+Whilst one most jovial thus accosts the board:
+
+"Too late the queen selects a second lord;
+In evil hour the nuptial rite intends,
+When o'er her son disastrous death impends."
+Thus he, unskill'd of what the fates provide!
+But with severe rebuke Antinous cried:
+
+"These empty vaunts will make the voyage vain:
+Alarm not with discourse the menial train:
+The great event with silent hope attend,
+Our deeds alone our counsel must commend."
+His speech thus ended short, he frowning rose,
+And twenty chiefs renowned for valour chose;
+Down to the strand he speeds with haughty strides,
+Where anchor'd in the bay the vessel rides,
+Replete with mail and military store,
+In all her tackle trim to quit the shore.
+The desperate crew ascend, unfurl the sails
+(The seaward prow invites the tardy gales);
+Then take repast till Hesperus display'd
+His golden circlet, in the western shade.
+
+Meantime the queen, without reflection due,
+Heart-wounded, to the bed of state withdrew:
+In her sad breast the prince's fortunes roll,
+And hope and doubt alternate seize her soul.
+So when the woodman's toil her cave surrounds,
+And with the hunter's cry the grove resounds,
+With grief and rage the mother-lion stung.
+Fearless herself, yet trembles for her young
+While pensive in the silent slumberous shade,
+Sleep's gentle powers her drooping eyes invade;
+Minerva, life-like, on embodied air
+Impress'd the form of Iphthima the fair;
+(Icarius' daughter she, whose blooming charms
+Allured Eumelus to her virgin arms;
+A sceptred lord, who o'er the fruitful plain
+Of Thessaly wide stretched his ample reign:)
+As Pallas will'd, along the sable skies,
+To calm the queen, the phantom sister flies.
+Swift on the regal dome, descending right,
+The bolted valves are pervious to her flight.
+Close to her head the pleasing vision stands,
+And thus performs Minerva's high commands
+
+"O why, Penelope, this causeless fear,
+To render sleep's soft blessing unsincere?
+Alike devote to sorrow's dire extreme
+The day-reflection, and the midnight-dream!
+Thy son the gods propitious will restore,
+And bid thee cease his absence to deplore."
+
+To whom the queen (whilst yet in pensive mind
+Was in the silent gates of sleep confined):
+"O sister to my soul forever dear,
+Why this first visit to reprove my fear?
+How in a realm so distant should you know
+From what deep source ceaseless sorrows flow?
+To all my hope my royal lord is lost,
+His country's buckler, and the Grecian boast;
+And with consummate woe to weigh me down,
+The heir of all his honours and his crown,
+My darling son is fled! an easy prey
+To the fierce storms, or men more fierce than they;
+Who, in a league of blood associates sworn,
+Will intercept the unwary youth's return."
+
+"Courage resume (the shadowy form replied);
+In the protecting care of Heaven confide;
+On him attends the blue eyed martial maid:
+What earthly can implore a surer aid?
+Me now the guardian goddess deigns to send,
+To bid thee patient his return attend."
+
+The queen replies: "If in the blest abodes,
+A goddess, thou hast commerce with the gods;
+Say, breathes my lord the blissful realm of light,
+Or lies he wrapp'd in ever-during night?"
+
+"Inquire not of his doom, (the phantom cries,)
+I speak not all the counsel of the skies;
+Nor must indulge with vain discourse, or long,
+The windy satisfaction of the tongue."
+
+Swift through the valves the visionary fair
+Repass'd, and viewless mix'd with common air.
+The queen awakes, deliver'd of her woes;
+With florid joy her heart dilating glows:
+The vision, manifest of future fate,
+Makes her with hope her son's arrival wait.
+
+Meantime the suitors plough the watery plain,
+Telemachus in thought already slain!
+When sight of lessening Ithaca was lost
+Their sail directed for the Samian coast
+A small but verdant isle appear'd in view,
+And Asteris the advancing pilot knew;
+An ample port the rocks projected form,
+To break the rolling waves and ruffling storm:
+That safe recess they gain with happy speed,
+And in close ambush wait the murderous deed.
+
+
+
+BOOK V.
+
+ARGUMENT
+
+THE DEPARTURE OF ULYSSES FROM CALYPSO
+
+Pallas in a council of the gods complains of the detention of
+Ulysses in the Island of Calypso: whereupon Mercury is sent to
+command his removal. The seat of Calypso described. She consents
+with much difficulty; and Ulysses builds a vessel with his own
+hands, in which he embarks. Neptune overtakes him with a terrible
+tempest, in which he is shipwrecked, and in the last danger of
+death; till Lencothea, a sea-goddess, assists him, and, after
+innumerable perils, he gets ashore on Phaeacia.
+
+
+
+The saffron morn, with early blushes spread,
+Now rose refulgent from Tithonus' bed;
+With new-born day to gladden mortal sight,
+And gild the courts of heaven with sacred light.
+Then met the eternal synod of the sky,
+Before the god, who thunders from on high,
+Supreme in might, sublime in majesty.
+Pallas, to these, deplores the unequal fates
+Of wise Ulysses and his toils relates:
+Her hero's danger touch'd the pitying power,
+The nymph's seducements, and the magic bower.
+Thus she began her plaint:  "Immortal Jove!
+And you who fill the blissful seats above!
+Let kings no more with gentle mercy sway,
+Or bless a people willing to obey,
+But crush the nations with an iron rod,
+And every monarch be the scourge of God.
+If from your thoughts Ulysses you remove,
+Who ruled his subjects with a father's love,
+Sole in an isle, encircled by the main,
+Abandon'd, banish'd from his native reign,
+Unbless'd he sighs, detained by lawless charms,
+And press'd unwilling in Calypso's arms.
+Nor friends are there, nor vessels to convey,
+Nor oars to cut the immeasurable way.
+And now fierce traitors, studious to destroy
+His only son, their ambush'd fraud employ;
+Who, pious, following his great father's fame,
+To sacred Pylos and to Sparta came."
+
+"What words are these? (replied the power who forms
+The clouds of night, and darkens heaven with storms;)
+Is not already in thy soul decreed,
+The chief's return shall make the guilty bleed?
+What cannot Wisdom do? Thou may'st restore
+The son in safety to his native shore;
+While the fell foes, who late in ambush lay,
+With fraud defeated measure back their way."
+
+Then thus to Hermes the command was given:
+"Hermes, thou chosen messenger of heaven!
+Go, to the nymph be these our orders borne
+'Tis Jove's decree, Ulysses shall return:
+The patient man shall view his old abodes,
+Nor helped by mortal hand, nor guiding gods
+In twice ten days shall fertile Scheria find,
+Alone, and floating to the wave and wind.
+The bold Phaecians there, whose haughty line
+Is mixed with gods, half human, half divine,
+The chief shall honour as some heavenly guest,
+And swift transport him to his place of rest,
+His vessels loaded with a plenteous store
+Of brass, of vestures, and resplendent ore
+(A richer prize than if his joyful isle
+Received him charged with Ilion's noble spoil),
+His friends, his country, he shall see, though late:
+Such is our sovereign will, and such is fate."
+
+He spoke. The god who mounts the winged winds
+Fast to his feet the golden pinions binds,
+That high through fields of air his flight sustain
+O'er the wide earth, and o'er the boundless main:
+He grasps the wand that causes sleep to fly,
+Or in soft slumber seals the wakeful eye;
+Then shoots from heaven to high Pieria's steep,
+And stoops incumbent on the rolling deep.
+So watery fowl, that seek their fishy food,
+With wings expanded o'er the foaming flood,
+Now sailing smooth the level surface sweep,
+Now dip their pinions in the briny deep;
+Thus o'er the word of waters Hermes flew,
+Till now the distant island rose in view:
+Then, swift ascending from the azure wave,
+he took the path that winded to the cave.
+Large was the grot, in which the nymph he found
+(The fair-hair'd nymph with every beauty crown'd).
+The cave was brighten'd with a rising blaze;
+Cedar and frankincense, an odorous pile,
+Flamed on the hearth, and wide perfumed the isle;
+While she with work and song the time divides,
+And through the loom the golden shuttle guides.
+Without the grot a various sylvan scene
+Appear'd around, and groves of living green;
+Poplars and alders ever quivering play'd,
+And nodding cypress form'd a fragrant shade:
+On whose high branches, waving with the storm,
+The birds of broadest wing their mansions form,--
+The chough, the sea-mew, the loquacious crow,--
+and scream aloft, and skim the deeps below.
+Depending vines the shelving cavern screen.
+With purple clusters blushing through the green.
+Four limped fountains from the clefts distil:
+And every fountain pours a several rill,
+In mazy windings wandering down the hill:
+Where bloomy meads with vivid greens were crown'd,
+And glowing violets threw odours round.
+A scene, where, if a god should cast his sight,
+A god might gaze, and wander with delight!
+Joy touch'd the messenger of heaven: he stay'd
+Entranced, and all the blissful haunts surveyed.
+Him, entering in the cave, Calypso knew;
+For powers celestial to each other's view
+Stand still confess'd, though distant far they lie
+To habitants of earth, or sea, or sky.
+But sad Ulysses, by himself apart,
+Pour'd the big sorrows of his swelling heard;
+All on the lonely shore he sate to weep,
+And roll'd his eyes around the restless deep:
+Toward his loved coast he roll'd his eyes in vain,
+Till, dimm'd with rising grief, they stream'd again.
+
+Now graceful seated on her shining throne,
+To Hermes thus the nymph divine begun:
+
+"God of the golden wand! on what behest
+Arrivest thou here, an unexpected guest?
+Loved as thou art, thy free injunctions lay;
+'Tis mine with joy and duty to obey.
+Till now a stranger, in a happy hour
+Approach, and taste the dainties of my bower."
+
+Thus having spoke, the nymph the table spread
+(Ambrosial cates, with nectar rosy-red);
+Hermes the hospitable rite partook,
+Divine refection! then, recruited, spoke:
+
+"What moves this journey from my native sky,
+A goddess asks, nor can a god deny.
+Hear then the truth. By mighty Jove's command
+Unwilling have I trod this pleasing land:
+For who, self-moved, with weary wing would sweep
+Such length of ocean and unmeasured deep;
+A world of waters! far from all the ways
+Where men frequent, or sacred altars blaze!
+But to Jove's will submission we must pay;
+What power so great to dare to disobey?
+A man, he says, a man resides with thee,
+Of all his kind most worn with misery.
+The Greeks, (whose arms for nine long year employ'd
+Their force on Ilion, in the tenth destroy'd,)
+At length, embarking in a luckless hour,
+With conquest proud, incensed Minerva's power:
+Hence on the guilty race her vengeance hurl'd,
+With storms pursued them through the liquid world.
+There all his vessels sunk beneath the wave!
+There all his dear companions found their grave!
+Saved from the jaws of death by Heaven's decree,
+The tempest drove him to these shores and thee.
+Him, Jove now orders to his native lands
+Straight to dismiss: so destiny commands:
+Impatient Fate his near return attends,
+And calls him to his country, and his friends."
+
+E'en to her inmost soul the goddess shook;
+Then thus her anguish, and her passion broke:
+"Ungracious gods! with spite and envy cursed!
+Still to your own ethereal race the worst!
+Ye envy mortal and immortal joy,
+And love, the only sweet of life destroy,
+Did ever goddess by her charms engage
+A favour'd mortal, and not feel your rage?
+So when Aurora sought Orion's love,
+Her joys disturbed your blissful hours above,
+Till, in Ortygia Dian's winged dart
+Had pierced the hapless hunter to the heart,
+So when the covert of the thrice-eared field
+Saw stately Ceres to her passion yield,
+Scarce could Iasion taste her heavenly charms,
+But Jove's swift lightning scorched him in her arms.
+And is it now my turn, ye mighty powers!
+Am I the envy of your blissful bowers?
+A man, an outcast to the storm and wave,
+It was my crime to pity, and to save;
+When he who thunders rent his bark in twain,
+And sunk his brave companions in the main,
+Alone, abandon'd, in mid-ocean tossed,
+The sport of winds, and driven from every coast,
+Hither this man of miseries I led,
+Received the friendless, and the hungry fed;
+Nay promised (vainly promised) to bestow
+Immortal life, exempt from age and woe.
+'Tis past-and Jove decrees he shall remove;
+Gods as we are, we are but slaves to Jove.
+Go then he must (he must, if he ordain,
+Try all those dangers, all those deeps, again);
+But never, never shall Calypso send
+To toils like these her husband and her friend.
+What ships have I, what sailors to convey,
+What oars to cut the long laborious way?
+Yet I'll direct the safest means to go;
+That last advice is all I can bestow."
+
+To her the power who hears the charming rod;
+"Dismiss the man, nor irritate the god;
+Prevent the rage of him who reigns above,
+For what so dreadful as the wrath of Jove?"
+Thus having said, he cut the cleaving sky,
+And in a moment vanished from her eye,
+The nymph, obedient to divine command,
+To seek Ulysses, paced along the sand,
+Him pensive on the lonely beach she found,
+With streaming eyes in briny torrents drown'd,
+And inly pining for his native shore;
+For now the soft enchantress pleased no more;
+For now, reluctant, and constrained by charms,
+Absent he lay in her desiring arms,
+In slumber wore the heavy night away,
+On rocks and shores consumed the tedious day;
+There sate all desolate, and sighed alone,
+With echoing sorrows made the mountains groan.
+And roll'd his eyes o'er all the restless main,
+Till, dimmed with  rising grief, they streamed again.
+
+Here, on his musing mood the goddess press'd,
+Approaching soft, and thus the chief address'd:
+"Unhappy man! to wasting woes a prey,
+No more in sorrows languish life away:
+Free as the winds I give thee now to rove:
+Go, fell the timber of yon lofty grove,
+And form a raft, and build the rising ship,
+Sublime to bear thee o'er the gloomy deep.
+To store the vessel let the care be mine,
+With water from the rock and rosy wine,
+And life-sustaining bread, and fair array,
+And prosperous gales to waft thee on the way.
+These, if the gods with my desire comply
+(The gods, alas, more mighty far than I,
+And better skill'd in dark events to come),
+In peace shall land thee at thy native home."
+
+With sighs Ulysses heard the words she spoke,
+Then thus his melancholy silence broke:
+"Some other motive, goddess! sways thy mind
+(Some close design, or turn of womankind),
+Nor my return the end, nor this the way,
+On a slight raft to pass the swelling sea,
+Huge, horrid, vast! where scarce in safety sails
+The best-built ship, though Jove inspires the gales.
+The bold proposal how shall I fulfil,
+Dark as I am, unconscious of thy will?
+Swear, then, thou mean'st not what my soul forebodes;
+Swear by the solemn oath that binds the gods."
+
+Him, while he spoke, with smiles Calypso eyed,
+And gently grasp'd his hand, and thus replied:
+"This shows thee, friend, by old experience taught,
+And learn'd in all the wiles of human thought,
+How prone to doubt, how cautious, are the wise!
+But hear, O earth, and hear, ye sacred skies!
+And thou, O Styx! whose formidable floods
+Glide through the shades, and bind the attesting gods!
+No form'd design, no meditated end,
+Lurks in the counsel of thy faithful friend;
+Kind the persuasion, and sincere my aim;
+The same my practice, were my fate the same.
+Heaven has not cursed me with a heart of steel,
+But given the sense to pity, and to feel."
+
+Thus having said, the goddess marched before:
+He trod her footsteps in the sandy shore.
+At the cool cave arrived, they took their state;
+He filled the throne where Mercury had sate.
+For him the nymph a rich repast ordains,
+Such as the mortal life of man sustains;
+Before herself were placed the the cates divine,
+Ambrosial banquet and celestial wine.
+Their hunger satiate, and their thirst repress'd,
+Thus spoke Calypso to her godlike guest:
+
+"Ulysses! (with a sigh she thus began;)
+O sprung from gods! in wisdom more than man!
+Is then thy home the passion of thy heart?
+Thus wilt thou leave me, are we thus to part?
+Farewell! and ever joyful mayst thou be,
+Nor break the transport with one thought of me.
+But ah, Ulysses! wert thou given to know
+What Fate yet dooms these still to undergo,
+Thy heart might settle in this scene of ease.
+And e'en these slighted charms might learn to please.
+A willing goddess, and immortal life.
+Might banish from thy mind an absent wife.
+Am I inferior to a mortal dame?
+Less soft my feature less august my frame?
+Or shall the daughters of mankind compare
+Their earth born beauties with the heavenly fair?"
+
+"Alas! for this (the prudent man replies)
+Against Ulysses shall thy anger rise?
+Loved and adored, O goddess as thou art,
+Forgive the weakness of a human heart.
+Though well I see thy graces far above
+The dear, though mortal, object of my love,
+Of youth eternal well the difference know,
+And the short date of fading charms below;
+Yet every day, while absent thus I roam,
+I languish to return and die at home.
+Whate'er the gods shall destine me to bear;
+In the black ocean or the watery war,
+'Tis mine to master with a constant mind;
+Inured to perils, to the worst resign'd,
+By seas, by wars, so many dangers run;
+Still I can suffer; their high will he done!"
+
+Thus while he spoke, the beamy sun descends,
+And rising night her friendly shade extends,
+To the close grot the lonely pair remove,
+And slept delighted with the gifts of love.
+When rose morning call'd them from their rest,
+Ulysses robed him in the cloak and vest.
+The nymph's fair head a veil transparent graced,
+Her swelling loins a radiant zone embraced
+With flowers of gold; an under robe, unbound,
+In snowy waves flow'd glittering on the ground.
+Forth issuing thus, she gave him first to wield
+A weighty axe with truest temper steeled,
+And double-edged; the handle smooth and plain,
+Wrought of the clouded olive's easy grain;
+And next, a wedge to drive with sweepy sway
+Then to the neighboring forest led the way.
+On the lone island's utmost verge there stood
+Of poplars, pine, and firs, a lofty wood,
+Whose leafless summits to the skies aspire,
+Scorch'd by the sun, or seared by heavenly fire
+(Already dried).  These pointing out to view,
+The nymph just show'd him, and with tears withdrew.
+
+Now toils the hero: trees on trees o'erthrown
+Fall crackling round him, and the forests groan:
+Sudden, full twenty on the plain are strow'd,
+And lopp'd and lighten'd of their branchy load.
+At equal angles these disposed to join,
+He smooth'd and squared them by the rule and line,
+(The wimbles for the work Calypso found)
+With those he pierced them and with clinchers bound.
+Long and capacious as a shipwright forms
+Some bark's broad bottom to out-ride the storms,
+So large he built the raft; then ribb'd it strong
+From space to space, and nail'd the planks along;
+These form'd the sides: the deck he fashion'd last;
+Then o'er the vessel raised the taper mast,
+With crossing sail-yards dancing in the wind;
+And to the helm the guiding rudder join'd
+(With yielding osiers fenced, to break the force
+Of surging waves, and steer the steady course).
+Thy loom, Calypso, for the future sails
+Supplied the cloth, capacious of the gales.
+With stays and cordage last he rigged the ship,
+And, roll'd on levers, launch'd her in the deep.
+
+Four days were pass'd, and now the work complete,
+Shone the fifth morn, when from her sacred seat
+The nymph dismiss'd him (odorous garments given),
+And bathed in fragrant oils that breathed of heaven:
+Then fill'd two goatskins with her hands divine,
+With water one, and one with sable wine:
+Of every kind, provisions heaved aboard;
+And the full decks with copious viands stored.
+The goddess, last, a gentle breeze supplies,
+To curl old Ocean, and to warm the skies.
+
+And now, rejoicing in the prosperous gales,
+With beating heart Ulysses spreads his sails;
+Placed at the helm he sate, and mark'd the skies,
+Nor closed in sleep his ever-watchful eyes.
+There view'd the Pleiads, and the Northern Team,
+And great Orion's more refulgent beam.
+To which, around the axle of the sky,
+The Bear, revolving, points his golden eye:
+Who shines exalted on the ethereal plain,
+Nor bathes his blazing forehead in the main.
+Far on the left those radiant fires to keep
+The nymph directed, as he sail'd the deep.
+Full seventeen nights he cut the foaming way:
+The distant land appear'd the following day:
+Then swell'd to sight Phaeacia's dusky coast,
+And woody mountains, half in vapours lost;
+That lay before him indistinct and vast,
+Like a broad shield amid the watery waste.
+
+But him, thus voyaging the deeps below,
+From far, on Solyme's aerial brow,
+The king of ocean saw, and seeing burn'd
+(From AEthiopia's happy climes return'd);
+The raging monarch shook his azure head,
+And thus in secret to his soul he said:
+"Heavens! how uncertain are the powers on high!
+Is then reversed the sentence of the sky,
+In one man's favour; while a distant guest
+I shared secure the AEthiopian feast?
+Behold how near Phoenecia's land he draws;
+The land affix'd by Fate's eternal laws
+To end his toils. Is then our anger vain?
+No; if this sceptre yet commands the main."
+
+He spoke, and high the forky trident hurl'd,
+Rolls clouds on clouds, and stirs the watery world,
+At once the face of earth and sea deforms,
+Swells all the winds, and rouses all the storms.
+Down rushed the night: east, west, together roar;
+And south and north roll mountains to the shore.
+Then shook the hero, to despair resign'd,
+And question'd thus his yet unconquer'd mind;
+
+"Wretch that I am! what farther fates attend
+This life of toils, and what my destined end?
+Too well, alas! the island goddess knew
+On the black sea what perils should ensue.
+New horrors now this destined head inclose;
+Untill'd is yet the measure of my woes;
+With what a cloud the brows of heaven are crown'd;
+What raging winds! what roaring waters round!
+'Tis Jove himself the swelling tempest rears;
+Death, present death, on every side appears.
+Happy! thrice happy! who, in battle slain,
+Press'd in Atrides' cause the Trojan plain!
+Oh! had I died before that well-fought wall!
+Had some distinguish'd day renown'd my fall
+(Such as was that when showers of javelins fled
+From conquering Troy around Achilles dead),
+All Greece had paid me solemn funerals then,
+And spread my glory with the sons of men.
+A shameful fate now hides my hapless head,
+Unwept, unnoted, and for ever dead!"
+
+A mighty wave rush'd o'er him as he spoke,
+The raft is cover'd, and the mast is broke;
+Swept from the deck and from the rudder torn,
+Far on the swelling surge the chief was borne;
+While by the howling tempest rent in twain
+Flew sail and sail-yards rattling o'er the main.
+Long-press'd, he heaved beneath the weighty wave,
+Clogg'd by the cumbrous vest Calypso gave;
+At length, emerging, from his nostrils wide
+And gushing mouth effused the briny tide;
+E'en then not mindless of his last retreat,
+He seized the raft, and leap'd into his seat,
+Strong with the fear of death.  In rolling flood,
+Now here, now there, impell'd the floating wood
+As when a heap of gather'd thorns is cast,
+Now to, now fro, before the autumnal blast;
+Together clung, it rolls around the field;
+So roll'd the float, and so its texture held:
+And now the south, and now the north, bear sway,
+And now the east the foamy floods obey,
+And now the west wind whirls it o'er the sea.
+The wandering chief with toils on toils oppress'd,
+Leucothea saw, and pity touch'd her breast.
+(Herself a mortal once, of Cadmus' strain,
+But now an azure sister of the main)
+Swift as a sea-mew springing from the flood,
+All radiant on the raft the goddess stood;
+Then thus address'd him: "Thou whom heaven decrees
+To Neptune's wrath, stern tyrant of the seas!
+(Unequal contest!) not his rage and power,
+Great as he is, such virtue shall devour.
+What I suggest, thy wisdom will perform:
+Forsake thy float, and leave it to the storm;
+Strip off thy garments; Neptune's fury brave
+With naked strength, and plunge into the wave.
+To reach Phaeacia all thy nerves extend,
+There Fate decrees thy miseries shall end.
+This heavenly scarf beneath thy bosom bind,
+And live; give all thy terrors to the wind.
+Soon as thy arms the happy shore shall gain,
+Return the gift, and cast it in the main:
+Observe my orders, and with heed obey,
+Cast it far off, and turn thy eyes away."
+
+With that, her hand the sacred veil bestows,
+Then down the deeps she dived from whence she rose;
+A moment snatch'd the shining form away,
+And all was covered with the curling sea.
+
+Struck with amaze, yet still to doubt inclined,
+He stands suspended, and explores his mind:
+"What shall I do? unhappy me! who knows
+But other gods intend me other woes?
+Whoe'er thou art, I shall not blindly join
+Thy pleaded reason, but consult with mine:
+For scarce in ken appears that distant isle
+Thy voice foretells me shall conclude my toil.
+Thus then I judge: while yet the planks sustain
+The wild waves' fury, here I fix'd remain:
+But, when their texture to the tempest yields,
+I launch adventurous on the liquid fields,
+Join to the help of gods the strength of man,
+And take this method, since the best I can."
+
+While thus his thoughts an anxious council hold,
+The raging god a watery mountain roll'd;
+Like a black sheet the whelming billows spread,
+Burst o'er the float, and thunder'd on his head.
+Planks, beams, disparted fly; the scatter'd wood
+Rolls diverse, and in fragments strews the flood.
+So the rude Boreas, o'er the field new-shorn,
+Tosses and drives the scatter'd heaps of corn.
+And now a single beam the chief bestrides:
+There poised a while above the bounding tides,
+His limbs discumbers of the clinging vest,
+And binds the sacred cincture round his breast:
+Then prone an ocean in a moment flung,
+Stretch'd wide his eager arms, and shot the seas along.
+All naked now, on heaving billows laid,
+Stern Neptune eyed him, and contemptuous said:
+
+"Go, learn'd in woes, and other foes essay!
+Go, wander helpless on the watery way;
+Thus, thus find out the destined shore, and then
+(If Jove ordains it) mix with happier men.
+Whate'er thy fate, the ills our wrath could raise
+Shall last remember'd in thy best of days."
+
+This said, his sea-green steeds divide the foam,
+And reach high Aegae and the towery dome.
+Now, scarce withdrawn the fierce earth-shaking power,
+Jove's daughter Pallas watch'd the favouring hour.
+Back to their caves she bade the winds to fly;
+And hush'd the blustering brethren of the sky.
+The drier blasts alone of Boreas away,
+And bear him soft on broken waves away;
+With gentle force impelling to that shore,
+Where fate has destined he shall toil no more.
+And now, two nights, and now two days were pass'd,
+Since wide he wander'd on the watery waste;
+Heaved on the surge with intermitting breath,
+And hourly panting in the arms of death.
+The third fair morn now blazed upon the main;
+Then glassy smooth lay all the liquid plain;
+The winds were hush'd, the billows scarcely curl'd,
+And a dead silence still'd the watery world;
+When lifted on a ridgy wave he spies
+The land at distance, and with sharpen'd eyes.
+As pious children joy with vast delight
+When a loved sire revives before their sight
+(Who, lingering along, has call'd on death in vain,
+Fix'd by some demon to his bed of pain,
+Till heaven by miracle his life restore);
+So joys Ulysses at the appearing shore;
+And sees (and labours onward as he sees)
+The rising forests, and the tufted trees.
+And now, as near approaching as the sound
+Of human voice the listening ear may wound,
+Amidst the rocks he heard a hollow roar
+Of murmuring surges breaking on the shore;
+Nor peaceful port was there, nor winding bay,
+To shield the vessel from the rolling sea,
+But cliffs and shaggy shores, a dreadful sight!
+All rough with rocks, with foamy billows white.
+Fear seized his slacken'd limbs and beating heart,
+As thus he communed with his soul apart;
+
+"Ah me! when, o'er a length of waters toss'd,
+These eyes at last behold the unhoped-for coast,
+No port receives me from the angry main,
+But the loud deeps demand me back again.
+Above, sharp rocks forbid access; around
+Roar the wild waves; beneath, is sea profound!
+No footing sure affords the faithless sand,
+To stem too rapid, and too deep to stand.
+If here I enter, my efforts are vain,
+Dash'd on the cliffs, or heaved into the main;
+Or round the island if my course I bend,
+Where the ports open, or the shores descend,
+Back to the seas the rolling surge may sweep,
+And bury all my hopes beneath the deep.
+Or some enormous whale the god may send
+(For many such an Amphitrite attend);
+Too well the turns of mortal chance I know,
+And hate relentless of my heavenly foe."
+While thus he thought, a monstrous wave upbore
+The chief, and dash'd him on the craggy shore;
+Torn was his skin, nor had the ribs been whole,
+But Instant Pallas enter'd in his soul.
+Close to the cliff with both his hands he clung,
+And stuck adherent, and suspended hung;
+Till the huge surge roll'd off; then backward sweep
+The refluent tides, and plunge him in the deep.
+As when the polypus, from forth his cave
+Torn with full force, reluctant beats the wave,
+His ragged claws are stuck with stones and sands;
+So the rough rock had shagg'd Ulysses hands,
+And now had perish'd, whelm'd beneath the main,
+The unhappy man; e'en fate had been in vain;
+But all-subduing Pallas lent her power,
+And prudence saved him in the needful hour.
+Beyond the beating surge his course he bore,
+(A wider circle, but in sight of shore),
+With longing eyes, observing, to survey
+Some smooth ascent, or safe sequester'd bay.
+Between the parting rocks at length he spied
+A failing stream with gentler waters glide;
+Where to the seas the shelving shore declined,
+And form'd a bay impervious to the wind.
+To this calm port the glad Ulysses press'd,
+And hail'd the river, and its god address'd:
+
+"Whoe'er thou art, before whose stream unknown
+I bend, a suppliant at thy watery throne,
+Hear, azure king! nor let me fly in vain
+To thee from Neptune and the raging main
+Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me,
+For sacred even to gods is misery:
+Let then thy waters give the weary rest,
+And save a suppliant, and a man distress'd."
+
+He pray'd, and straight the gentle stream subsides,
+Detains the rushing current of his tides,
+Before the wanderer smooths the watery way,
+And soft receives him from the rolling sea.
+That moment, fainting as he touch'd the shore,
+He dropp'd his sinewy arms: his knees no more
+Perform'd their office, or his weight upheld:
+His swoln heart heaved; his bloated body swell'd:
+From mouth and nose the briny torrent ran;
+And lost in lassitude lay all the man,
+Deprived of voice, of motion, and of breath;
+The soul scarce waking in the arms of death.
+Soon as warm life its wonted office found,
+The mindful chief Leucothea's scarf unbound;
+Observant of her word, he turn'd aside
+HIs head, and cast it on the rolling tide.
+Behind him far, upon the purple waves,
+The waters waft it, and the nymph receives.
+
+Now parting from the stream, Ulysses found
+A mossy bank with pliant rushes crown'd;
+The bank he press'd, and gently kiss'd the ground;
+Where on the flowery herb as soft he lay,
+Thus to his soul the sage began to say:
+
+"What will ye next ordain, ye powers on high!
+And yet, ah yet, what fates are we to try?
+Here by the stream, if I the night out-wear,
+Thus spent already, how shall nature bear
+The dews descending, and nocturnal air;
+Or chilly vapours breathing from the flood
+When morning rises?--If I take the wood,
+And in thick shelter of innumerous boughs
+Enjoy the comfort gentle sleep allows;
+Though fenced from cold, and though my toil be pass'd,
+What savage beasts may wander in the waste?
+Perhaps I yet may fall a bloody prey
+To prowling bears, or lions in the way."
+
+Thus long debating in himself he stood:
+At length he took the passage to the wood,
+Whose shady horrors on a rising brow
+Waved high, and frown'd upon the stream below.
+There grew two olives, closest of the grove,
+With roots entwined, the branches interwove;
+Alike their leaves, but not alike they smiled
+With sister-fruits; one fertile, one was wild.
+Nor here the sun's meridian rays had power,
+Nor wind sharp-piercing, nor the rushing shower;
+The verdant arch so close its texture kept:
+Beneath this covert great Ulysses crept.
+Of gather'd leaves an ample bed he made
+(Thick strewn by tempest through the bowery shade);
+Where three at least might winter's cold defy,
+Though Boreas raged along the inclement sky.
+This store with joy the patient hero found,
+And, sunk amidst them, heap'd the leaves around.
+As some poor peasant, fated to reside
+Remote from neighbours in a forest wide,
+Studious to save what human wants require,
+In embers heap'd, preserves the seeds of fire:
+Hid in dry foliage thus Ulysses lies,
+Till Pallas pour'd soft slumbers on his eyes;
+And golden dreams (the gift of sweet repose)
+Lull'd all his cares, and banish'd all his woes.
+
+
+
+BOOK VI.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+Pallas appearing in a dream in to Nausicaa (the daughter of
+Alcinous, king of Phaeacia, commands her to descend to the river,
+and wash the robes of state, in preparation for her nuptials.
+Nausicaa goes with her handmaidens to the river; where, while the
+garments are spread on the bank, they divert themselves in sports.
+Their voices awaken Ulysses, who, addressing himself to the
+princess, is by her relieved and clothed, and receives directions
+in what manner to apply to the king and queen of the island.
+
+
+
+While thus the weary wanderer sunk to rest,
+And peaceful slumbers calmed his anxious breast,
+The martial maid from heavens aerial height
+Swift to Phaeacia wing'd her rapid flight,
+In elder times the soft Phaeacian train
+In ease possess'd the wide Hyperian plain;
+Till the Cyclopean race in arms arose
+A lawless nation of gigantic foes;
+Then great Nausithous from Hyperia far,
+Through seas retreating from the sounds of war,
+The recreant nation to fair Scheria led,
+Where never science rear'd her laurell'd head;
+There round his tribes a strength of wall he raised;
+To heaven the glittering domes and temples blazed;
+Just to his realms, he parted grounds from grounds,
+And shared the lands, and gave the lands their bounds.
+Now in the silent grave the monarch lay,
+And wise Alcinous held the legal sway.
+
+To his high palace through the fields of air
+The goddess shot; Ulysses was her care.
+There, as the night in silence roll'd away,
+A heaven of charms divine Nausicaa lay:
+Through the thick gloom the shining portals blaze;
+Two nymphs the portals guard, each nymph a Grace,
+Light as the viewless air the warrior maid
+Glides through the valves, and hovers round her head;
+A favourite virgin's blooming form she took,
+From Dymas sprung, and thus the vision spoke:
+
+"Oh Indolent! to waste thy hours away!
+And sleep'st thou careless of the bridal day!
+Thy spousal ornament neglected lies;
+Arise, prepare the bridal train, arise!
+A just applause the cares of dress impart,
+And give soft transport to a parent's heart.
+Haste, to the limpid stream direct thy way,
+When the gay morn unveils her smiling ray;
+Haste to the stream! companion of thy care,
+Lo, I thy steps attend, thy labours share.
+Virgin, awake! the marriage hour is nigh,
+See from their thrones thy kindred monarchs sigh!
+The royal car at early dawn obtain,
+And order mules obedient to the rein;
+For rough the way, and distant rolls the wave,
+Where their fair vests Phaeacian virgins lave,
+In pomp ride forth; for pomp becomes the great
+And majesty derives a grace from state."
+Then to the palaces of heaven she sails,
+Incumbent on the wings of wafting gales;
+The seat of gods; the regions mild of peace,
+Full joy, and calm eternity of ease.
+There no rude winds presume to shake the skies,
+No rains descend, no snowy vapours rise;
+But on immortal thrones the blest repose;
+The firmament with living splendours glows.
+Hither the goddess winged the aerial way,
+Through heaven's eternal gates that blazed with day.
+
+Now from her rosy car Aurora shed
+The dawn, and all the orient flamed with red.
+Up rose the virgin with the morning light,
+Obedient to the vision of the night.
+The queen she sought, the queen her hours bestowed
+In curious works; the whirling spindle glow'd
+With crimson threads, while busy damsels call
+The snowy fleece, or twist the purpled wool.
+Meanwhile Phaeacia's peers in council sate;
+From his high dome the king descends in state;
+Then with a filial awe the royal maid
+Approach'd him passing, and submissive said:
+
+"Will my dread sire his ear regardful deign,
+And may his child the royal car obtain?
+Say, with my garments shall I bend my way?
+Where through the vales the mazy waters stray?
+A dignity of dress adorns the great,
+And kings draw lustre from the robe of state.
+Five sons thou hast; three wait the bridal day.
+And spotless robes become the young and gay;
+So when with praise amid the dance they shine,
+By these my cares adorn'd that praise is mine."
+
+Thus she: but blushes ill-restrain'd betray
+Her thoughts intentive on the bridal day,
+The conscious sire the dawning blush survey'd,
+And, smiling, thus bespoke the blooming maid
+"My child, my darling joy, the car receive;
+That, and whate'er our daughter asks, we give."
+Swift at the royal nod the attending train
+The car prepare, the mules incessant rein,
+The blooming virgin with despatchful cares
+Tunics, and stoles, and robes imperial, bears.
+The queen, assiduous to her train assigns
+The sumptuous viands, and the flavorous wines.
+The train prepare a cruse of curious mould,
+A cruse of fragrance, form'd of burnish'd gold;
+Odour divine! whose soft refreshing streams
+Sleek the smooth skin, and scent the snowy limbs.
+
+Now mounting the gay seat, the silken reins
+Shine in her hand; along the sounding plains
+Swift fly the mules; nor rode the nymph alone;
+Around, a bevy of bright damsels shone.
+They seek the cisterns where Phaeacian dames
+Wash their fair garments in the limpid streams;
+Where, gathering into depth from falling rills,
+The lucid wave a spacious bason fills.
+The mules, unharness'd, range beside the main,
+Or crop the verdant herbage of the plain.
+
+Then emulous the royal robes they lave,
+And plunge the vestures in the cleansing wave
+(The vestures cleansed o'erspread the shelly sand,
+Their snowy lustre whitens all the strand);
+Then with a short repast relieve their toil,
+And o'er their limbs diffuse ambrosial oil;
+And while the robes imbibe the solar ray,
+O'er the green mead the sporting virgins play
+(Their shining veils unbound). Along the skies,
+Toss'd and retoss'd, the ball incessant flies.
+They sport, they feast; Nausicaa lifts her voice,
+And, warbling sweet, makes earth and heaven rejoice.
+
+As when o'er Erymanth Diana roves,
+Or wide Tuygetus' resounding groves;
+A sylvan train the huntress queen surrounds,
+Her rattling quiver from her shoulders sounds:
+Fierce in the sport, along the mountain's brow
+They bay the boar, or chase the bounding roe;
+High o'er the lawn, with more majestic pace,
+Above the nymphs she treads with stately grace;
+Distinguish'd excellence the goddess proves;
+Exults Latona as the virgin moves.
+With equal grace Nausicaa trod the plain,
+And shone transcendent o'er the beauteous train.
+
+Meantime (the care and favourite of the skies
+Wrapp'd in imbowering shade, Ulysses lies,
+His woes forgot! but Pallas now address'd
+To break the bands of all-composing rest.
+Forth from her snowy hand Nausicaa threw
+The various ball; the ball erroneous flew
+And swam the stream; loud shrieks the virgin train,
+And the loud shriek redoubles from the main.
+Waked by the shrilling sound, Ulysses rose,
+And, to the deaf woods wailing, breathed his woes:
+
+"Ah me! on what inhospitable coast,
+On what new region is Ulysses toss'd;
+Possess'd by wild barbarians fierce in arms;
+Or men, whose bosom tender pity warms?
+What sounds are these that gather from he shores?
+The voice of nymphs that haunt the sylvan bowers,
+The fair-hair'd Dryads of the shady wood;
+Or azure daughters of the silver flood;
+Or human voice? but issuing from the shades,
+Why cease I straight to learn what sound invades?"
+
+Then, where the grove with leaves umbrageous bends,
+With forceful strength a branch the hero rends;
+Around his loins the verdant cincture spreads
+A wreathy foliage and concealing shades.
+As when a lion in the midnight hours,
+Beat by rude blasts, and wet with wintry showers,
+Descends terrific from the mountains brow;
+With living flames his rolling eye balls glow;
+With conscious strength elate, he bends his way,
+Majestically fierce, to seize his prey
+(The steer or stag;) or, with keen hunger bold,
+Spring o'er the fence and dissipates the fold.
+No less a terror, from the neighbouring groves
+(Rough from the tossing surge) Ulysses moves;
+Urged on by want, and recent from the storms;
+The brackish ooze his manly grace deforms.
+Wide o'er the shore with many a piercing cry
+To rocks, to caves, the frightened virgins fly;
+All but the nymph; the nymph stood fix'd alone,
+By Pallas arm'd with boldness not her own.
+Meantime in dubious thought the king awaits,
+And, self-considering, as he stands, debates;
+Distant his mournful story to declare,
+Or prostrate at her knee address the prayer.
+But fearful to offend, by wisdom sway'd,
+At awful distance he accosts the maid:
+
+"If from the skies a goddess, or if earth
+(Imperial virgin) boast thy glorious birth,
+To thee I bend! If in that bright disguise
+Thou visit earth, a daughter of the skies,
+Hail, Dian, hail! the huntress of the groves
+So shines majestic, and so stately moves,
+So breathes an air divine! But if thy race
+Be mortal, and this earth thy native place,
+Blest is the father from whose loins you sprung,
+Blest is the mother at whose breast you hung.
+Blest are the brethren who thy blood divide,
+To such a miracle of charms allied:
+Joyful they see applauding princes gaze,
+When stately in the dance you swim the harmonious maze.
+But blest o'er all, the youth with heavenly charms,
+Who clasps the bright perfection in his arms!
+Never, I never view'd till this blast hour
+Such finish'd grace! I gaze, and I adore!
+Thus seems the palm with stately honours crown'd
+By Phoebus' altars; thus o'erlooks the ground;
+The pride of Delos. (By the Delian coast,
+I voyaged, leader of a warrior-host,
+But ah, how changed I from thence my sorrow flows;
+O fatal voyage, source of all my woes;)
+Raptured I stood, and as this hour amazed,
+With reverence at the lofty wonder gazed:
+Raptured I stand! for earth ne'er knew to bear
+A plant so stately, or a nymph so fair.
+Awed from access, I lift my suppliant hands;
+For Misery, O queen! before thee stands.
+Twice ten tempestuous nights I roll'd, resign'd
+To roaring blows, and the warring wind;
+Heaven bade the deep to spare; but heaven, my foe,
+Spares only to inflict some mightier woe.
+Inured to cares, to death in all its forms;
+Outcast I rove, familiar with the storms.
+Once more I view the face of human kind:
+Oh let soft pity touch thy generous mind!
+Unconscious of what air I breathe, I stand
+Naked, defenceless on a narrow land.
+Propitious to my wants a vest supply
+To guard the wretched from the inclement sky:
+So may the gods, who heaven and earth control,
+Crown the chaste wishes of thy virtuous soul,
+On thy soft hours their choicest blessings shed;
+Blest with a husband be thy bridal bed;
+Blest be thy husband with a blooming race,
+And lasting union crown your blissful days.
+The gods, when they supremely bless, bestow
+Firm union on their favourites below;
+Then envy grieves, with inly-pining hate;
+The good exult, and heaven is in our state."
+
+To whom the nymph: "O stranger, cease thy care;
+Wise is thy soul, but man is bore to bear;
+Jove weighs affairs of earth in dubious scales,
+And the good suffers, while the bad prevails.
+Bear, with a soul resign'd, the will of Jove;
+Who breathes, must mourn: thy woes are from above.
+But since thou tread'st our hospitable shore,
+'Tis mine to bid the wretched grieve no more,
+To clothe the naked, and thy way to guide.
+Know, the Phaecian tribes this land divide;
+From great Alcinous' royal loins I spring,
+A happy nation, and a happy king."
+
+Then to her maids: "Why, why, ye coward train,
+These fears, this flight? ye fear, and fly in vain.
+Dread ye a foe? dismiss that idle dread,
+'Tis death with hostile step these shores to tread;
+Safe in the love of heaven, an ocean flows
+Around our realm, a barrier from the foes;
+'Tis ours this son of sorrow to relieve,
+Cheer the sad heart, nor let affliction grieve.
+By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent;
+And what to those we give to Jove is lent.
+Then food supply, and bathe his fainting limbs
+Where waving shades obscure the mazy streams."
+
+Obedient to the call, the chief they guide
+To the calm current of the secret tide;
+Close by the stream a royal dress they lay,
+A vest and robe, with rich embroidery gay;
+Then unguents in a vase of gold supply,
+That breathed a fragrance through the balmy sky.
+
+To them the king: "No longer I detain
+Your friendly care: retire, ye virgin train!
+Retire, while from my wearied limbs I lave
+The foul pollution of the briny wave.
+Ye gods! since this worn frame refection know,
+What scenes have I surveyed of dreadful view!
+But, nymphs, recede! sage chastity denies
+To raise the blush, or pain the modest eyes."
+
+The nymphs withdrawn, at once into the tide
+Active he bounds; the flashing waves divide
+O'er all his limbs his hands the waves diffuse,
+And from his locks compress the weedy ooze;
+The balmy oil, a fragrant shower, be sheds;
+Then, dressed, in pomp magnificently treads.
+The warrior-goddess gives his frame to shine
+With majesty enlarged, and air divine:
+Back from his brows a length of hair unfurls,
+His hyacinthine locks descend in wavy curls.
+As by some artist, to whom Vulcan gives
+His skill divine, a breathing statue lives;
+By Pallas taught, he frames the wondrous mould,
+And o'er the silver pours the fusile gold
+So Pallas his heroic frame improves
+With heavenly bloom, and like a god he moves.
+A fragrance breathes around; majestic grace
+Attends his steps: the astonished virgins gaze.
+Soft he reclines along the murmuring seas,
+Inhaling freshness from the fanning breeze.
+
+The wondering nymph his glorious port survey'd,
+And to her damsels, with amazement, said:
+
+"Not without care divine the stranger treads
+This land of joy; his steps some godhead leads:
+Would Jove destroy him, sure he had been driven
+Far from this realm, the favourite isle of heaven.
+Late, a sad spectacle of woe, he trod
+The desert sands, and now be looks a god.
+Oh heaven! in my connubial hour decree
+This man my spouse, or such a spouse as he!
+But haste, the viands and the bowl provide."
+The maids the viands and the bowl supplied:
+Eager he fed, for keen his hunger raged,
+And with the generous vintage thirst assuaged.
+
+Now on return her care Nausicaa bends,
+The robes resumes, the glittering car ascends,
+Far blooming o'er the field; and as she press'd
+The splendid seat, the listening chief address'd:
+
+"Stranger, arise! the sun rolls down the day.
+Lo, to the palace I direct thy way;
+Where, in high state, the nobles of the land
+Attend my royal sire, a radiant band
+But hear, though wisdom in thy soul presides,
+Speaks from thy tongue, and every action guides;
+Advance at distance, while I pass the plain
+Where o'er the furrows waves the golden grain;
+Alone I reascend--With airy mounds
+A strength of wall the guarded city bounds;
+The jutting land two ample bays divides:
+Full through the narrow mouths descend the tides;
+The spacious basons arching rocks enclose,
+A sure defence from every storm that blows.
+Close to the bay great Neptune's fane adjoins;
+And near, a forum flank'd with marble shines,
+Where the bold youth, the numerous fleets to store,
+Shape the broad sail, or smooth the taper oar:
+For not the bow they bend, nor boast the skill
+To give the feather'd arrow wings to kill;
+But the tall mast above the vessel rear,
+Or teach the fluttering sail to float in air.
+They rush into the deep with eager joy,
+Climb the steep surge, and through the tempest fly;
+A proud, unpolish'd race--To me belongs
+The care to shun the blast of slanderous tongues;
+Lest malice, prone the virtuous to defame,
+Thus with wild censure taint my spotless name:
+'What stranger this whom thus Nausicaa leads!
+Heavens, with what graceful majesty he treads!
+Perhaps a native of some distant shore,
+The future consort of her bridal hour:
+Or rather some descendant of the skies;
+Won by her prayer, the aerial bridegroom flies,
+Heaven on that hour its choicest influence shed,
+That gave a foreign spouse to crown her bed!
+All, all the godlike worthies that adorn
+This realm, she flies: Phaeacia is her scorn.'
+And just the blame: for female innocence
+Not only flies the guilt, but shuns the offence:
+The unguarded virgin, as unchaste, I blame;
+And the least freedom with the sex is shame,
+Till our consenting sires a spouse provide,
+And public nuptials justify the bride,
+But would'st thou soon review thy native plain?
+Attend, and speedy thou shalt pass the main:
+Nigh where a grove with verdant poplars crown'd,
+To Pallas sacred, shades the holy ground,
+We bend our way; a bubbling fount distills
+A lucid lake, and thence descends in rills;
+Around the grove, a mead with lively green
+Falls by degrees, and forms a beauteous scene;
+Here a rich juice the royal vineyard pours;
+And there the garden yields a waste of flowers.
+Hence lies the town, as far as to the ear
+Floats a strong shout along the waves of air.
+There wait embower'd, while I ascend alone
+To great Alcinous on his royal throne.
+Arrived, advance, impatient of delay,
+And to the lofty palace bend thy way:
+The lofty palace overlooks the town,
+From every dome by pomp superior known;
+A child may point the way. With earnest gait
+Seek thou the queen along the rooms of state;
+Her royal hand a wondrous work designs,
+Around a circle of bright damsels shines;
+Part twist the threads, and part the wool dispose,
+While with the purple orb the spindle glows.
+High on a throne, amid the Scherian powers,
+My royal father shares the genial hours:
+But to the queen thy mournful tale disclose,
+With the prevailing eloquence of woes:
+So shalt thou view with joy thy natal shore,
+Though mountains rise between and oceans roar."
+
+She added not, but waving, as she wheel'd,
+The silver scourge, it glitter'd o'er the field;
+With skill the virgin guides the embroider'd rein,
+Slow rolls the car before the attending train,
+Now whirling down the heavens, the golden day
+Shot through the western clouds a dewy ray;
+The grove they reach, where, from the sacred shade,
+To Pallas thus the pensive hero pray'd:
+
+"Daughter of Jove! whose arms in thunder wield
+The avenging bolt, and shake the dreadful shield;
+Forsook by thee, in vain I sought thy aid
+When booming billows closed above my bead;
+Attend, unconquer'd maid! accord my vows,
+Bid the Great hear, and pitying, heal my woes."
+
+This heard Minerva, but forbore to fly
+(By Neptune awed) apparent from the sky;
+Stern god! who raged with vengeance, unrestrain'd.
+Till great Ulysses hail'd his native land.
+
+
+
+BOOK VII.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+The court of Alcinous.
+
+The princess Nausicaa returns to the city and Ulysses soon after
+follows thither. He is met by Pallas in the form of a young
+virgin, who guides him to the palace, and directs him in what
+manner to address the queen Arete. She then involves him in a mist
+which causes him to pass invisible. The palace and gardens of
+Alcinous described. Ulysses falling at the feet of the queen, the
+mist disperses, the Phaecians admire, and receive him with
+respect. The queen inquiring by what means he had the garments he
+then wore, be relates to her and Alcinous his departure from
+Calypso, and his arrival in their dominions.
+
+The same day continues, and the book ends with the night.
+
+
+The patient heavenly man thus suppliant pray'd;
+While the slow mules draws on the imperial maid;
+Through the proud street she moves, the public gaze;
+The turning wheel before the palace stays.
+With ready love her brothers, gathering round,
+Received the vestures, and the mules unbound.
+She seeks the bridal bower: a matron there
+The rising fire supplies with busy care,
+Whose charms in youth her father's heart inflamed,
+Now worn with age, Eurymedusa named;
+The captive dame Phaeacian rovers bore,
+Snatch'd from Epirus, her sweet native shore
+(A grateful prize), and in her bloom bestow'd
+On good Alcinous, honor'd as a god;
+Nurse of Nausicaa from her infant years,
+And tender second to a mother's cares.
+
+Now from the sacred thicket where he lay,
+To town Ulysses took the winding way.
+Propitious Pallas, to secure her care,
+Around him spread a veil of thicken'd air;
+To shun the encounter of the vulgar crowd,
+Insulting still, inquisitive and loud.
+When near the famed Phaeacian walls he drew,
+The beauteous city opening to his view,
+His step a virgin met, and stood before:
+A polish'd urn the seeming virgin bore,
+And youthful smiled; but in the low disguise
+Lay hid the goddess with the azure eyes.
+
+"Show me, fair daughter (thus the chief demands),
+The house of him who rules these happy lands
+Through many woes and wanderings, do I come
+To good Alcinous' hospitable dome.
+Far from my native coast, I rove alone,
+A wretched stranger, and of all unknown!"
+
+The goddess answer'd: "Father, I obey,
+And point the wandering traveller his way:
+Well known to me the palace you inquire,
+For fast beside it dwells my honour'd sire:
+But silent march, nor greet the common train
+With question needless, or inquiry vain;
+A race of ragged mariners are these,
+Unpolish'd men, and boisterous as their seas
+The native islanders alone their care,
+And hateful he who breathes a foreign air.
+These did the ruler of the deep ordain
+To build proud navies, and command the main;
+On canvas wings to cut the watery way;
+No bird so light, no thought so swift as they."
+
+Thus having spoke, the unknown celestial leads:
+The footsteps of the duty he treads,
+And secret moves along the crowded space,
+Unseen of all the rude Phaeacian race.
+(So Pallas order'd, Pallas to their eyes
+The mist objected, and condensed the skies.)
+The chief with wonder sees the extended streets,
+The spreading harbours, and the riding fleets;
+He next their princes' lofty domes admires,
+In separate islands, crown'd with rising spires;
+And deep entrenchments, and high walls of stone.
+That gird the city like a marble zone.
+At length the kingly palace-gates he view'd;
+There stopp'd the goddess, and her speech renew'd;
+
+"My task is done: the mansion you inquire
+Appears before you: enter, and admire.
+High-throned, and feasting, there thou shalt behold
+The sceptred rulers. Fear not, but be bold:
+A decent boldness ever meets with friends,
+Succeeds, and even a stranger recommends
+First to the queen prefer a suppliant's claim,
+Alcinous' queen, Arete is her name.
+The same her parents, and her power the same.
+For know, from ocean's god Nausithous sprung,
+And Peribaea, beautiful and young
+(Eurymedon's last hope, who ruled of old
+The race of giants, impious, proud, and bold:
+Perish'd the nation in unrighteous war,
+Perish'd the prince, and left this only heir),
+Who now, by Neptune's amorous power compress'd,
+Produced a monarch that his people bless'd,
+Father and prince of the Phaeacian name;
+From him Rhexenor and Alcinous came.
+The first by Phoebus' hurtling arrows fired,
+New from his nuptials, hapless youth! expired.
+No son survived; Arete heir'd his state,
+And her, Alcinous chose his royal mate.
+With honours yet to womankind unknown.
+This queen he graces, and divides the throne;
+In equal tenderness her sons conspire,
+And all the children emulate their sire.
+When through the streets she gracious deigns to move
+(The public wonder and the public love),
+The tongues of all with transport sound her praise,
+The eyes of all, as on a goddess, gaze.
+She feels the triumph of a generous breast;
+To heal divisions, to relieve the oppress'd;
+In virtue rich; in blessing others, bless'd.
+(to then secure, thy humble suit prefer
+And owe thy country and thy friends to her."
+
+With that the goddess deign'd no longer stay,
+But o'er the world of waters wing'd her way;
+Forsaking Scheria's ever-pleasing shore,
+The winds to Marathon the virgin bore:
+Thence, where proud Athens rears her towery head,
+With opening streets and shining structures spread,
+She pass'd, delighted with the well-known seats;
+And to Erectheus' sacred dome retreats.
+
+Meanwhile Ulysses at the palace waits,
+There stops, and anxious with his soul debates,
+Fix'd in amaze before the royal gates.
+The front appear'd with radiant splendours gay,
+Bright as the lamp of night, or orb of day,
+The walls were massy brass: the cornice high
+Blue metals crown'd in colours of the sky,
+Rich plates of gold the folding doors incase;
+The pillars silver, on a brazen base;
+Silver the lintels deep-projecting o'er,
+And gold the ringlets that command the door.
+Two rows of stately dogs, on either hand,
+In sculptured gold and labour'd silver stood
+These Vulcan form'd with art divine, to wait
+Immortal guardians at Alcinous' gate;
+Alive each animated frame appears,
+And still to live beyond the power of years,
+Fair thrones within from space to space were raised,
+Where various carpets with embroidery blessed,
+The work of matrons: these the princes press'd.
+Day following day, a long-continued feast,
+Refulgent pedestals the walls surround,
+Which boys of gold with illuming torches crown'd;
+The polish'd oar, reflecting every ray,
+Blazed on the banquets with a double day.
+Full fifty handmaids form the household train;
+Some turn the mill, or sift the golden grain;
+Some ply the loom; their busy fingers move
+Like poplar-leaves when Zephyr fans the grove.
+Not more renown'd the men of Scheria's isle
+For sailing arts and all the naval toil,
+Than works of female skill their women's pride,
+The flying shuttle through the threads to guide:
+Pallas to these her double gifts imparts,
+Incentive genius, and industrious arts.
+
+Close to the gates a spacious garden lies,
+From storms defended and inclement skies.
+Four acres was the allotted space of ground,
+Fenced with a green enclosure all around.
+Tall thriving trees confess'd the fruitful mould:
+The reddening apple ripens here to gold.
+Here the blue fig with luscious juice o'erflows,
+With deeper red the full pomegranate glows;
+The branch here bends beneath the weighty pear,
+And verdant olives flourish round the year,
+The balmy spirit of the western gale
+Eternal breathes on fruits, unthought to fail:
+Each dropping pear a following pear supplies,
+On apples apples, figs on figs arise:
+The same mild season gives the blooms to blow,
+The buds to harden, and the fruits to grow.
+
+Here order'd vines in equal ranks appear,
+With all the united labours of the year;
+Some to unload the fertile branches run,
+Some dry the blackening clusters in the sun,
+Others to tread the liquid harvest join:
+The groaning presses foam with floods of wine
+Here are the vines in early flower descried,
+Here grapes discolour'd on the sunnyside,
+And there in autumn's richest purple dyed,
+
+Beds of all various herbs, for ever green,
+In beauteous order terminate the scene.
+
+Two plenteous fountains the whole prospect crown'd
+This through the gardens leads its streams around
+Visits each plant, and waters all the ground;
+While that in pipes beneath the palace flows,
+And thence its current on the town bestows:
+To various use their various streams they bring,
+The people one, and one supplies the king.
+
+Such were the glories which the gods ordain'd,
+To grace Alcinous, and his happy land.
+E'en from the chief whom men and nations knew,
+The unwonted scene surprise and rapture drew;
+In pleasing thought he ran the prospect o'er,
+Then hasty enter'd at the lofty door.
+Night now approaching, in the palace stand,
+With goblets crown'd, the rulers of the land;
+Prepared for rest, and offering to the god
+Who bears the virtue of the sleepy rod,
+Unseen he glided through the joyous crowd,
+With darkness circled, and an ambient cloud.
+Direct to great Alcinous' throne he came,
+And prostrate fell before the imperial dame.
+Then from around him dropp'd the veil of night;
+Sudden he shines, and manifest to sight.
+The nobles gaze, with awful fear oppress'd;
+Silent they gaze, and eye the godlike guest.
+
+"Daughter of great Rhexenor! (thus began,
+Low at her knees, the much-enduring man)
+To thee, thy consort, and this royal train,
+To all that share the blessings of your reign,
+A suppliant bends: oh pity human woe!
+'Tis what the happy to the unhappy owe.
+A wretched exile to his country send,
+Long worn with griefs, and long without a friend
+So may the gods your better days increase,
+And all your joys descend on all your race;
+So reign for ever on your country's breast,
+Your people blessing, by your people bless'd!"
+
+Then to the genial hearth he bow'd his face,
+And humbled in the ashes took his place.
+Silence ensued.  The eldest first began,
+Echeneus sage, a venerable man!
+Whose well-taught mind the present age surpass'd,
+And join'd to that the experience of the last.
+Fit words attended on his weighty sense,
+And mild persuasion flow'd in eloquence.
+
+"Oh sight (he cried) dishonest and unjust!
+A guest, a stranger, seated in the dust!
+To raise the lowly suppliant from the ground
+Befits a monarch. Lo! the peers around
+But wait thy word, the gentle guest to grace,
+And seat him fair in some distinguish'd place.
+Let first the herald due libation pay
+To Jove, who guides the wanderer on his way:
+Then set the genial banquet in his view,
+And give the stranger-guest a stranger's due."
+
+His sage advice the listening king obeys,
+He stretch'd his hand the prudent chief to raise,
+And from his seat Laodamas removed
+(The monarch's offspring, and his best-beloved);
+There next his side the godlike hero sate;
+With stars of silver shone the bed of state.
+The golden ewer a beauteous handmaid brings,
+Replenish'd from the cool translucent springs,
+Whose polish'd vase with copious streams supplies
+A silver layer of capacious size.
+The table next in regal order spread,
+The glittering canisters are heap'd with bread:
+Viands of various kinds invite the taste,
+Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!
+Thus feasting high, Alcinous gave the sign,
+And bade the herald pour the rosy wine;
+"Let all around the due libation pay
+To Jove, who guides the wanderer on his way."
+
+He said. Pontonous heard the king's command;
+The circling goblet moves from hand to hand;
+Each drinks the juice that glads the heart of man.
+Alcinous then, with aspect mild, began:
+
+"Princes and peers, attend; while we impart
+To you the thoughts of no inhuman heart.
+Now pleased and satiate from the social rite
+Repair we to the blessings of the night;
+But with the rising day, assembled here,
+Let all the elders of the land appear,
+Pious observe our hospitable laws,
+And Heaven propitiate in the stranger's cause;
+Then join'd in council, proper means explore
+Safe to transport him to the wished-for shore
+(How distant that, imports us not to know,
+Nor weigh the labour, but relieve the woe).
+Meantime, nor harm nor anguish let him bear
+This interval, Heaven trusts him to our care
+But to his native land our charge resign'd,
+Heaven's is his life to come, and all the woes behind.
+Then must he suffer what the Fates ordain;
+For Fate has wove the thread of life with pain?
+And twins, e'en from the birth, are Misery and Man!
+But if, descended from the Olympian bower,
+Gracious approach us some immortal power;
+If in that form thou comest a guest divine:
+Some high event the conscious gods design.
+As yet, unbid they never graced our feast,
+The solemn sacrifice call'd down the guest;
+Then manifest of Heaven the vision stood,
+And to our eyes familiar was the god.
+Oft with some favour'd traveller they stray,
+And shine before him all the desert way;
+With social intercourse, and face to face,
+The friends and guardians of our pious race.
+So near approach we their celestial kind,
+By justice, truth, and probity of mind;
+As our dire neighbours of Cyclopean birth
+Match in fierce wrong the giant-sons of earth."
+
+"Let no such thought (with modest grace rejoin'd
+The prudent Greek) possess the royal mind.
+Alas! a mortal, like thyself, am I;
+No glorious native of yon azure sky:
+In form, ah how unlike their heavenly kind!
+How more inferior in the gifts of mind!
+Alas, a mortal! most oppress'd of those
+Whom Fate has loaded with a weight of woes;
+By a sad train of Miseries alone
+Distinguish'd long, and second now to none!
+By Heaven's high will compell'd from shore to shore;
+With Heaven's high will prepared to suffer more.
+What histories of toil could I declare!
+But still long-wearied nature wants repair;
+Spent with fatigue, and shrunk with pining fast,
+My craving bowels still require repast.
+Howe'er the noble, suffering mind may grieve
+Its load of anguish, and disdain to live,
+Necessity demands our daily bread;
+Hunger is insolent, and will be fed.
+But finish, oh ye peers! what you propose,
+And let the morrow's dawn conclude my woes.
+Pleased will I suffer all the gods ordain,
+To see my soil, my son, my friends again.
+That view vouchsafed, let instant death surprise
+With ever-during shade these happy eyes!"
+
+The assembled peers with general praise approved
+His pleaded reason, and the suit he moved.
+Each drinks a full oblivion of his cares,
+And to the gifts of balmy sleep repairs,
+Ulysses in the regal walls alone
+Remain'd: beside him, on a splendid throne,
+Divine Arete and Alcinous shone.
+The queen, an nearer view, the guest survey'd,
+Rob'd in the garments her own hands had made,
+Not without wonder seen. Then thus began,
+Her words addressing to the godlike man:
+
+"Camest thou hither, wondrous stranger I say,
+From lands remote and o'er a length of sea?
+Tell, then, whence art thou? whence, that princely air?
+And robes like these, so recent and so fair?"
+
+"Hard is the task, O princess! you impose
+(Thus sighing spoke the man of many woes),
+The long, the mournful series to relate
+Of all my sorrows sent by Heaven and Fate!
+Yet what you ask, attend.  An island lies
+Beyond these tracts, and under other skies,
+Ogygia named, in Ocean's watery arms;
+Where dwells Calypso, dreadful in her charms!
+Remote from gods or men she holds her reign,
+Amid the terrors of a rolling main.
+Me, only me, the hand of fortune bore,
+Unblest! to tread that interdicted shore:
+When Jove tremendous in the sable deeps
+Launch'd his red lightning at our scattered ships;
+Then, all my fleet and all my followers lost.
+Sole on a plank on boiling surges toss'd,
+Heaven drove my wreck the Ogygian Isle to find,
+Full nine days floating to the wave and wind.
+Met by the goddess there with open arms,
+She bribed my stay with more than human charms;
+Nay, promised, vainly promised, to bestow
+Immortal life, exempt from age and woe;
+But all her blandishments successless prove,
+To banish from my breast my country's love.
+I stay reluctant seven continued years,
+And water her ambrosial couch with tears,
+The eighth she voluntary moves to part,
+Or urged by Jove, or her own changeful heart.
+A raft was formed to cross the surging sea;
+Herself supplied the stores and rich array,
+And gave the gales to waft me on my way,
+In seventeen days appear'd your pleasing coast,
+And woody mountains half in vapours lost.
+Joy touched my soul; my soul was joy'd in vain,
+For angry Neptune roused the raging main;
+The wild winds whistle, and the billows roar;
+The splitting raft the furious tempest tore;
+And storms vindictive intercept the shore.
+Soon as their rage subsides, the seas I brave
+With naked force, and shoot along the wave,
+To reach this isle; but there my hopes were lost,
+The surge impell'd me on a craggy coast.
+I chose the safer sea, and chanced to find
+A river's mouth impervious to the wind,
+And clear of rocks. I fainted by the flood;
+Then took the shelter of the neighbouring wood.
+'Twas night, and, covered in the foliage deep,
+Jove plunged my senses in the death of sleep.
+All night I slept, oblivious of my pain:
+Aurora dawned and Phoebus shined in vain,
+Nor, till oblique he sloped his evening ray,
+Had Somnus dried the balmy dews away.
+Then female voices from the shore I heard:
+A maid amidst them, goddess-like appear'd;
+To her I sued, she pitied my distress;
+Like thee in beauty, nor in virtue less.
+Who from such youth could hope considerate care?
+In youth and beauty wisdom is but rare!
+She gave me life, relieved with just supplies
+My wants, and lent these robes that strike your eyes.
+This is the truth: and oh, ye powers on high!
+Forbid that want should sink me to a lie."
+
+To this the king: "Our daughter but express'd
+Her cares imperfect to our godlike guest.
+Suppliant to her, since first he chose to pray,
+Why not herself did she conduct the way,
+And with her handmaids to our court convey?"
+
+"Hero and king (Ulysses thus replied)
+Nor blame her faultless nor suspect of pride:
+She bade me follow in the attendant train;
+But fear and reverence did my steps detain,
+Lest rash suspicion might alarm thy mind:
+Man's of a jealous and mistaken kind."
+
+"Far from my soul (he cried) the gods efface
+All wrath ill-grounded, and suspicion base!
+Whate'er is honest, stranger, I approve,
+And would to Phoebus, Pallas, and to Jove,
+Such as thou art, thy thought and mine were one,
+Nor thou unwilling to be called my son.
+In such alliance couldst thou wish to join,
+A palace stored with treasures should be thine.
+But if reluctant, who shall force thy stay?
+Jove bids to set the stranger on his way,
+And ships shall wait thee with the morning ray.
+Till then, let slumber cross thy careful eyes:
+The wakeful mariners shall watch the skies,
+And seize the moment when the breezes rise:
+Then gently waft thee to the pleasing shore,
+Where thy soul rests, and labour is no more.
+Far as Euboea though thy country lay,
+Our ships with ease transport thee in a day.
+Thither of old, earth's giant son to view,
+On wings of wind with Rhadamanth they flew;
+This land, from whence their morning course begun,
+Saw them returning with the setting sun.
+Your eyes shall witness and confirm my tale,
+Our youth how dexterous, and how fleet our sail,
+When justly timed with equal sweep they row,
+And ocean whitens in long tracks below."
+
+Thus he. No word the experienced man replies,
+But thus to heaven (and heavenward lifts his eyes):
+"O Jove! O father! what the king accords
+Do thou make perfect! sacred be his words!
+Wide o'er the world Alcinous' glory shine!
+Let fame be his, and ah! my country mine!"
+
+Meantime Arete, for the hour of rest,
+Ordains the fleecy couch, and covering vest;
+Bids her fair train the purple quilts prepare,
+And the thick carpets spread with busy care.
+With torches blazing in their hands they pass'd,
+And finish'd all their queen's command with haste:
+Then gave the signal to the willing guest:
+He rose with pleasure, and retired to rest.
+There, soft extended, to the murmuring sound
+Of the high porch, Ulysses sleeps profound!
+Within, released from cares, Alcinous lies;
+And fast beside were closed Arete's eyes.
+
+
+
+BOOK VIII.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+Alcinous calls a council, in which it is resolved to transport
+Ulysses into his country. After which splendid entertainments are
+made, where the celebrated musician and poet, Demodocus, plays and
+sings to the guests. They next proceed to the games, the race, the
+wrestling, discus, &c., where Ulysses casts a prodigious length,
+to the admiration of all the spectators. They return again to the
+banquet and Demodocus sings the loves of Mars and Venus. Ulysses,
+after a compliment to the poet, desires him to sing the
+introduction of the wooden horse into Troy, which subject
+provoking his tears, Alcinous inquires of his guest his name,
+parentage, and fortunes.
+
+
+
+Now fair Aurora lifts her golden ray,
+And all the ruddy orient flames with day:
+Alcinous, and the chief, with dawning light,
+Rose instant from the slumbers of the night;
+Then to the council-seat they bend their way,
+And fill the shining thrones along the bay.
+
+Meanwhile Minerva, in her guardian care,
+Shoots from the starry vault through fields of air;
+In form, a herald of the king, she flies
+From peer to peer, and thus incessant cries;
+
+"Nobles and chiefs who rule Phaeacia's states,
+The king in council your attendance waits;
+A prince of grace divine your aid implores,
+O'er unknown seas arrived from unknown shores."
+
+She spoke, and sudden with tumultuous sounds
+Of thronging multitudes the shore rebounds:
+At once the seats they fill; and every eye
+Glazed, as before some brother of the sky.
+Pallas with grace divine his form improves,
+More high he treads, and more enlarged he moves:
+She sheds celestial bloom, regard to draw;
+And gives a dignity of mien, to awe;
+With strength, the future prize of fame to play,
+And gather all the honours of the day.
+
+Then from his glittering throne Alcinous rose;
+"Attend (he cried) while we our will disclose.
+Your present aid this godlike stranger craves,
+Toss'd by rude tempest through a war of waves;
+Perhaps from realms that view the rising day,
+Or nations subject to the western ray.
+Then grant, what here all sons of wine obtain
+(For here affliction never pleads in vain);
+Be chosen youth prepared, expert to try
+The vast profound and hid the vessel fly;
+Launch the tall back, and order every oar;
+Then in our court indulge the genial hour.
+Instant, you sailors to this task attend;
+Swift to the palace, all ye peers ascend;
+Let none to strangers honours due disclaim:
+Be there Demodocus the bard of fame,
+Taught by the gods to please, when high he sings
+The vocal lay, responsive to the strings."
+
+Thus spoke the prince; the attending peers obey;
+In state they move; Alcinous heads the way
+Swift to Demodocus the herald flies,
+At once the sailors to their charge arise;
+They launch the vessel, and unfurl the sails,
+And stretch the swelling canvas to the gales;
+Then to the palace move: a gathering throng,
+Youth, and white age, tumultuous pour along.
+Now all accesses to the dome are fill'd;
+Eight boars, the choicest of the herd, are kill'd;
+Two beeves, twelve fatlings, from the flock they bring
+To crown the feast; so wills the bounteous king,
+The herald now arrives, and guides along
+The sacred master of celestial song;
+Dear to the Muse!  who gave his days to flow
+With mighty blessings, mix'd with mighty woe;
+With clouds of darkness quench'd his visual ray,
+But gave him skill to raise the lofty lay.
+High on a radiant throne sublime in state,
+Encircled by huge multitudes, he sate;
+With silver shone the throne; his lyre, well strung
+To rapturous sounds, at hand Poutonous hung.
+Before his seat a polish'd table shines,
+And a full goblet foams with generous wines;
+His food a herald bore; and now they fed;
+And now the rage of craving hunger fled.
+
+Then, fired by all the Muse, aloud he sings
+The mighty deeds of demigods and kings;
+From that fierce wrath the noble song arose,
+That made Ulysses and Achilles foes;
+How o'er the feast they doom the fall of Troy;
+The stern debate Atrides hears with joy;
+For Heaven foretold the contest, when he trod
+The marble threshold of the Delphic god,
+Curious to learn the counsels of the sky,
+Ere yet he loosed the rage of war on Troy.
+
+Touch'd at the song, Ulysses straight resign'd
+To soft affliction all his manly mind.
+Before his eyes the purple vest he drew,
+Industrious to conceal the falling dew;
+But when the music paused, he ceased to shed
+The flowing tear, and raised his drooping head;
+And, lifting to the gods a goblet crown'd,
+He pour'd a pure libation to the ground.
+
+Transported with the song, the listening train
+Again with loud applause demand the strain;
+Again Ulysses veil'd his pensive head.
+Again unmann'd, a shower of sorrows shed;
+Conceal'd he wept; the king observed alone
+The silent tear, and heard the secret groan;
+Then to the bard aloud--"O cease to sing,
+Dumb be thy voice and mute the harmonious string;
+Enough the feast has pleased, enough the power
+Of heavenly song has crown'd the genial hour!
+Incessant in the games your strength display,
+Contest, ye brave the honours of the day!
+That pleased the admiring stranger may proclaim
+In distant regions the Phaeacian fame:
+None wield the gauntlet with so dire a sway,
+Or swifter in the race devour the way;
+None in the leap spring with so strong a bound,
+Or firmer, in the wrestling, press the ground."
+
+Thus spoke the king; the attending peers obey;
+In state they move, Alcinous lends the way;
+His golden lyre Demodocus unstrung,
+High on a column in the palace hung;
+And guided by a herald's guardian cares,
+Majestic to the lists of Fame repairs.
+
+Now swarms the populace: a countless throng,
+Youth and boar age; and man drives man along.
+The games begin; ambitious of the prize,
+Acroneus, Thoon, and Eretmeus rise;
+The prize Ocyalus and Prymneus claim,
+Anchialus and Ponteus, chiefs of fame.
+There Proreus, Nautes, Eratreus, appear
+And famed Amphialus, Polyneus' heir;
+Euryalus, like Mars terrific, rose,
+When clad in wrath he withers hosts of foes;
+Naubolides with grace unequall'd shone,
+Or equall'd by Laodamas alone.
+With these came forth Ambasineus the strong:
+And three brave sons, from great Alcinous sprung.
+
+Ranged in a line the ready racers stand,
+Start from the goal, and vanish o'er the strand:
+Swift as on wings of winds, upborne they fly,
+And drifts of rising dust involve the sky.
+Before the rest, what space the hinds allow
+Between the mule and ox, from plough to plough,
+Clytonius sprung: he wing'd the rapid way,
+And bore the unrivall'd honours of the day.
+With fierce embrace the brawny wrestlers join;
+The conquest, great Euryalus, is thine.
+Amphialus sprung forward with a bound,
+Superior in the leap, a length of ground.
+From Elatreus' strong arm the discus flies,
+And sings with unmatch'd force along the skies.
+And Laodam whirls high, with dreadful sway,
+The gloves of death, victorious in the fray.
+
+While thus the peerage in the games contends,
+In act to speak, Laodamas ascends.
+
+"O friends (he cries), the stranger seems well skill'd
+To try the illustrious labours of the field:
+I deem him brave: then grant the brave man's claim,
+Invite the hero to his share of fame.
+What nervous arms he boasts! how firm his tread!
+His limbs how turn'd! how broad his shoulders spread!
+By age unbroke!--but all-consuming care
+Destroys perhaps the strength that time would spare:
+Dire is the ocean, dread in all its forms!
+Man must decay when man contends with storms."
+
+"Well hast thou spoke (Euryalus replies):
+Thine is the guest, invite him thou to rise."
+Swift as the word, advancing from the crowd,
+He made obeisance, and thus spoke aloud:
+
+"Vouchsafes the reverend stranger to display
+His manly worth, and share the glorious day?
+Father, arise! for thee thy port proclaims
+Expert to conquer in the solemn games.
+To fame arise! for what more fame can yield
+Than the swift race, or conflict of the field?
+Steal from corroding care one transient day,
+To glory give the space thou hast to stay;
+Short is the time, and lo! e'en now the gales
+Call thee aboard, and stretch the swelling sails."
+
+To whom with sighs Ulysses gave reply:
+"Ah why the ill-suiting pastime must I try?
+To gloomy care my thoughts alone are free;
+Ill the gay sorts with troubled hearts agree;
+Sad from my natal hour my days have ran,
+A much-afflicted, much-enduring man!
+Who, suppliant to the king and peers, implores
+A speedy voyage to his native shore."
+"Wise wanders, Laodam, thy erring tongue
+The sports of glory to the brave belong
+(Retorts Euryalus): he bears no claim
+Among the great, unlike the sons of Fame.
+A wandering merchant he frequents the main
+Some mean seafarer in pursuit of gain;
+Studious of freight, in naval trade well skill'd,
+But dreads the athletic labours of the field."
+Incensed, Ulysses with a frown replies:
+"O forward to proclaim thy soul unwise!
+With partial hands the gods their gifts dispense;
+Some greatly think, some speak with manly sense;
+Here Heaven an elegance of form denies,
+But wisdom the defect of form supplies;
+This man with energy of thought controls,
+And steals with modest violence our souls;
+He speaks reservedly, but he speaks with force,
+Nor can one word be changed but for a worse;
+In public more than mortal he appears,
+And as he moves, the praising crowd reveres;
+While others, beauteous as the etherial kind,
+The nobler portion went, a knowing mind,
+In outward show Heaven gives thee to excel.
+But Heaven denies the praise of thinking well
+I'll bear the brave a rude ungovern'd tongue,
+And, youth, my generous soul resents the wrong.
+Skill'd in heroic exercise, I claim
+A post of honour with the sons of Fame.
+Such was my boast while vigour crown'd my days,
+Now care surrounds me, and my force decays;
+Inured a melancholy part to bear
+In scenes of death, by tempest and by war
+Yet thus by woes impair'd, no more I waive
+To prove the hero--slander stings the brave."
+
+Then gliding forward with a furious bound
+He wrench'd a rocky fragment from the ground
+By far more ponderous, and more huge by far
+Than what Phaeacia's sons discharged in air.
+Fierce from his arm the enormous load he flings;
+Sonorous through the shaded air it sings;
+Couch'd to the earth, tempestuous as it flies,
+The crowd gaze upward while it cleaves the skies.
+Beyond all marks, with many a giddy round
+Down-rushing, it up-turns a hill of ground.
+
+That Instant Pallas, bursting from a cloud,
+Fix'd a distinguish'd mark, and cried aloud:
+
+"E'en he who, sightless, wants his visual ray
+May by his touch alone award the day:
+Thy signal throw transcends the utmost bound
+Of every champion by a length of ground:
+Securely bid the strongest of the train
+Arise to throw; the strongest throws in vain."
+
+She spoke: and momentary mounts the sky:
+The friendly voice Ulysses hears with joy.
+Then thus aloud (elate with decent pride)
+"Rise, ye Phaecians, try your force (he cried):
+If with this throw the strongest caster vie,
+Still, further still, I bid the discus fly.
+Stand forth, ye champions, who the gauntlet wield,
+Or ye, the swiftest racers of the field!
+Stand forth, ye wrestlers, who these pastimes grace!
+I wield the gauntlet, and I run the race.
+In such heroic games I yield to none,
+Or yield to brave Laodamas alone:
+Shall I with brave Laodamas contend?
+A friend is sacred, and I style him friend.
+Ungenerous were the man, and base of heart,
+Who takes the kind, and pays the ungrateful part:
+Chiefly the man, in foreign realms confined,
+Base to his friend, to his own interest blind:
+All, all your heroes I this day defy;
+Give me a man that we our might may try.
+Expert in every art, I boast the skill
+To give the feather'd arrow wings to kill;
+Should a whole host at once discharge the bow,
+My well-aim'd shaft with death prevents the foe:
+Alone superior in the field of Troy,
+Great Philoctetes taught the shaft to fly.
+From all the sons of earth unrivall'd praise
+I justly claim; but yield to better days,
+To those famed days when great Alcides rose,
+And Eurytus, who bade the gods be foes
+(Vain Eurytus, whose art became his crime,
+Swept from the earth, he perish'd in his prime:
+Sudden the irremeable way he trod,
+Who boldly durst defy the bowyer god).
+In fighting fields as far the spear I throw
+As flies an arrow from the well-drawn bow.
+Sole in the race the contest I decline,
+Stiff are my weary joints, and I resign;
+By storms and hunger worn; age well may fail,
+When storms and hunger doth at once assail."
+
+Abash'd, the numbers hear the godlike man,
+Till great Alcinous mildly thus began:
+
+"Well hast thou spoke, and well thy generous tongue
+With decent pride refutes a public wrong:
+Warm are thy words, but warm without offence;
+Fear only fools, secure in men of sense;
+Thy worth is known. Then hear our country's claim,
+And bear to heroes our heroic fame:
+In distant realms our glorious deeds display,
+Repeat them frequent in the genial day;
+When, blest with ease, thy woes and wanderings end,
+Teach them thy consort, bid thy sons attend;
+How, loved of Jove, he crown'd our sires with praise,
+How we their offspring dignify our race.
+
+"Let other realms the deathful gauntlet wield,
+Or boast the glories of the athletic field:
+We in the course unrivall'd speed display,
+Or through cerulean billows plough the way;
+To dress, to dance, to sing, our sole delight,
+The feast or bath by day, and love by night:
+Rise, then, ye skill'd in measures; let him bear
+Your fame to men that breathe a distant air;
+And faithful say, to you the powers belong
+To race, to sail, to dance, to chant the song.
+
+"But, herald, to the palace swift repair,
+And the soft lyre to grace our pastimes bear."
+
+Swift at the word, obedient to the king,
+The herald flies the tuneful lyre to bring.
+Up rose nine seniors, chosen to survey
+The future games, the judges of the day
+With instant care they mark a spacious round
+And level for the dance the allotted ground:
+The herald bears the lyre: intent to play,
+The bard advancing meditates the lay.
+Skill'd in the dance, tall youths, a blooming band,
+Graceful before the heavenly minstrel stand:
+Light bounding from the earth, at once they rise,
+Their feet half-viewless quiver in the skies:
+Ulysses gazed, astonish'd to survey
+The glancing splendours as their sandals play.
+Meantime the bard, alternate to the strings,
+The loves of Mars and Cytherea sings:
+How the stern god, enamour'd with her charms
+Clasp'd the gay panting goddess in his arms,
+By bribes seduced; and how the sun, whose eye
+Views the broad heavens, disclosed the lawless joy.
+Stung to the soul, indignant through the skies
+To his black forge vindictive Vulcan flies:
+Arrived, his sinewy arms incessant place
+The eternal anvil on the massy base.
+A wondrous net he labours, to betray
+The wanton lovers, as entwined they lay,
+Indissolubly strong; Then instant bears
+To his immortal dome the finish'd snares:
+Above, below, around, with art dispread,
+The sure inclosure folds the genial bed:
+Whose texture even the search of gods deceives,
+Thin as the filmy threads the spider weaves,
+Then, as withdrawing from the starry bowers,
+He feigns a journey to the Lemnian shores,
+His favourite isle: observant Mars descries
+His wish'd recees, and to the goddess flies;
+He glows, he burns, the fair-hair'd queen of love
+Descends, smooth gliding from the courts of Jove,
+Gay blooming in full charms: her hand he press'd
+With eager joy, and with a sigh address'd:
+
+"Come, my beloved! and taste the soft delights:
+Come, to repose the genial bed invites:
+Thy absent spouse, neglectful of thy charms,
+Prefers his barbarous Sintians to thy arms!"
+
+Then, nothing loth, the enamour'd fair he led,
+And sunk transported on the conscious bed.
+Down rush'd the toils, inwrapping as they lay
+The careless lovers in their wanton play:
+In vain they strive; the entangling snares deny
+(Inextricably firm) the power to fly.
+Warn'd by the god who sheds the golden day,
+Stern Vulcan homeward treads the starry way:
+Arrived, he sees, he grieves, with rage he burns:
+Full horribly he roars, his voice all heaven returns.
+
+"O Jove (he cried) O all ye powers above,
+See the lewd dalliance of the queen of love!
+Me, awkward me, she scorns; and yields her charms
+To that fair lecher, the strong god of arms.
+If I am lame, that stain my natal hour
+By fate imposed; such me my parent bore.
+Why was I born? See how the wanton lies!
+Oh sight tormenting to a husband's eyes!
+But yet, I trust, this once e'en Mars would fly
+His fair-one's arms--he thinks her, once, too nigh.
+But there remain, ye guilty, in my power,
+Till Jove refunds his shameless daughter's dower.
+Too dear I prized a fair enchanting face:
+Beauty unchaste is beauty in disgrace."
+
+Meanwhile the gods the dome of Vulcan throng;
+Apollo comes, and Neptune comes along;
+With these gay Hermes trod the starry plain;
+But modesty withheld the goddess train.
+All heaven beholds, imprison'd as they lie,
+And unextinguish'd laughter shakes the sky.
+Then mutual, thus they spoke: "Behold on wrong
+Swift vengeance waits; and art subdues the strong!
+Dwells there a god on all the Olympian brow
+More swift than Mars, and more than Vulcan slow?
+Yet Vulcan conquers, and the god of arms
+Must pay the penalty for lawless charms."
+
+Thus serious they; but he who gilds the skies,
+The gay Apollo, thus to Hermes cries:
+"Wouldst thou enchain'd like Mars, O Hermes, lie
+And bear the shame like Mars to share the joy?"
+
+"O envied shame! (the smiling youth rejoin'd;)
+And thrice the chains, and thrice more firmly bind;
+Gaze all ye gods, and every goddess gaze,
+Yet eager would I bless the sweet disgrace."
+
+Loud laugh the rest, e'en Neptune laughs aloud,
+Yet sues importunate to loose the god.
+"And free, (he cries) O Vulcan! free from shame
+Thy captives; I ensure the penal claim."
+
+"Will Neptune (Vulcan then) the faithless trust?
+He suffers who gives surety for the unjust:
+But say, if that lewd scandal of the sky,
+To liberty restored, perfidious fly:
+Say, wilt thou bear the mulct?" He instant cries,
+"The mulct I bear, if Mars perfidious flies."
+
+To whom appeased: "No more I urge delay;
+When Neptune sues, my part is to obey."
+Then to the snares his force the god applies;
+They burst; and Mars to Thrace indignant flies:
+To the soft Cyprian shores the goddess moves,
+To visit Paphos and her blooming groves,
+Where to the Power an hundred altars rise,
+And breathing odours scent the balmy skies;
+Concealed she bathes in consecrated bowers,
+The Graces unguents shed, ambrosial showers,
+Unguents that charm the gods! she last assumes
+Her wondrous robes; and full the goddess blooms.
+
+Thus sung the bard: Ulysses hears with joy,
+And loud applauses read the vaulted sky.
+
+Then to the sports his sons the king commands,
+Each blooming youth before the monarch stands,
+In dance unmatch'd! A wondrous ball is brought
+(The work of Polypus, divinely wrought);
+This youth with strength enormous bids it fly,
+And bending backward whirls it to the sky;
+His brother, springing with an active bound,
+At distance intercepts it from the ground.
+The ball dismissed, in dance they skim the strand,
+Turn and return, and scarce imprint the sand.
+The assembly gazes with astonished eyes,
+And sends in shouts applauses to the skies.
+
+Then thus Ulysses: "Happy king, whose name
+The brightest shines in all the rolls of fame!
+In subjects happy with surprise I gaze;
+Thy praise was just; their skill transcends thy praise."
+
+Pleas'd with his people's fame, the monarch hears,
+And thus benevolent accosts the peers:
+"Since wisdom's sacred guidance he pursues,
+Give to the stranger-guest a stranger's dues:
+Twelve princes in our realm dominion share,
+O'er whom supreme, imperial power I bear;
+Bring gold, a pledge of love: a talent bring,
+A vest, a robe, and imitate your king.
+Be swift to give: that he this night may share
+The social feast of joy, with joy sincere.
+And thou, Euryalus, redeem thy wrong;
+A generous heart repairs a slanderous tongue."
+
+The assenting peers, obedient to the king,
+In haste their heralds send the gifts to bring.
+Then thus Euryalus: "O prince, whose sway
+Rules this bless'd realm, repentant I obey;
+Be his this sword, whose blade of brass displays
+A ruddy gleam; whose hilt a silver blaze;
+Whose ivory sheath, inwrought with curious pride,
+Adds graceful terror to the wearer's side."
+
+He said, and to his hand the sword consign'd:
+"And if (he cried) my words affect thy mind,
+Far from thy mind those words, ye whirlwinds, bear,
+And scatter them, ye storms, in empty air!
+Crown, O ye heavens, with joy his peaceful hours,
+And grant him to his spouse, and native shores."
+
+"And blest be thou, my friend, (Ulysses cries,)
+Crown him with every joy, ye favouring skies
+To thy calm hours continued peace afford,
+And never, never mayst thou want this sword,"
+
+He said, and o'er his shoulder flung the blade.
+Now o'er the earth ascends the evening shade:
+The precious gifts the illustrious heralds bear,
+And to the court the embodied peers repair.
+Before the queen Alcinous' sons unfold
+The vests, the robes, and heaps of shining gold;
+Then to the radiant thrones they move in state:
+Aloft, the king in pomp imperial sate.
+
+Thence to the queen: "O partner of our reign,
+O sole beloved! command thy menial train
+A polish'd chest and stately robes to bear,
+And healing waters for the bath prepare;
+That, bathed, our guest may bid his sorrows cease,
+Hear the sweet song, and taste the feast in peace.
+A bowl that flames with gold, of wondrous frame,
+Ourself we give, memorial of our name;
+To raise in offerings to almighty Jove,
+And every god that treads the courts above."
+
+Instant the queen, observant of the king,
+Commands her train a spacious vase to bring,
+The spacious vase with ample streams suffice,
+Heap the high wood, and bid the flames arise.
+The flames climb round it with a fierce embrace,
+The fuming waters bubble o'er the blaze.
+Herself the chest prepares; in order roll'd
+The robes, the vests are ranged, and heaps of gold
+And adding a rich dress inwrought with art,
+A gift expressive of her bounteous heart.
+Thus spoke to Ithacus: "To guard with bands
+Insolvable these gifts, thy care demands;
+Lest, in thy slumbers on the watery main,
+The hand of rapine make our bounty vain."
+
+Then bending with full force around he roll'd
+A labyrinth of bands in fold on fold,
+Closed with Circaean art. A train attends
+Around the bath: the bath the king ascends
+(Untasted joy, since that disastrous hour,
+He sail'd ill-fated from Calypso's bower);
+Where, happy as the gods that range the sky,
+He feasted every sense with every joy.
+He bathes; the damsels with officious toil,
+Shed sweets, shed unguents, in a shower of oil;
+Then o'er his limbs a gorgeous robe he spreads,
+And to the feast magnificently treads.
+Full where the dome its shining valves expands,
+Nausicaa blooming as a goddess stands;
+With wondering eyes the hero she survey'd,
+And graceful thus began the royal maid:
+
+"Hail, godlike stranger! and when heaven restores
+To thy fond wish thy long-expected shores,
+This ever grateful in remembrance bear:
+To me thou owest, to me, the vital air."
+
+"O royal maid! (Ulysses straight returns)
+Whose worth the splendours of thy race adorns,
+So may dread Jove (whose arm in vengeance forms
+The writhen bolt, and blackens heaven with storms),
+Restore me safe, through weary wanderings toss'd,
+To my dear country's ever-pleasing coast,
+As while the spirit in this bosom glows,
+To thee, my goddess, I address my vows;
+My life, thy gift I boast!" He said, and sate
+Fast by Alcinous on a throne of state.
+
+Now each partakes the feast, the wine prepares,
+Portions the food, and each his portion shares.
+The bard a herald guides; the gazing throng
+Pay low obeisance as he moves along:
+Beneath a sculptur'd arch he sits enthroned,
+The peers encircling form an awful round.
+Then, from the chine, Ulysses carves with art
+Delicious food, an honorary part:
+"This, let the master of the lyre receive,
+A pledge of love! 'tis all a wretch can give.
+Lives there a man beneath the spacious skies
+Who sacred honours to the bard denies?
+The Muse the bard inspires, exalts his mind;
+The muse indulgent loves the harmonious kind."
+
+The herald to his hand the charge conveys,
+Not fond of flattery, nor unpleased with praise.
+
+When now the rage of hunger was allay'd,
+Thus to the lyrist wise Ulysses said:
+"O more than man! thy soul the muse inspires,
+Or Phoebus animates with all his fires;
+For who, by Phoebus uninform'd, could know
+The woe of Greece, and sing so well the woe?
+Just to the tale, as present at the fray,
+Or taught the labours of the dreadful day:
+The song recalls past horrors to my eyes,
+And bids proud Ilion from her ashes rise.
+Once more harmonious strike the sounding string,
+The Epaean fabric, framed by Pallas, sing:
+How stern Ulysses, furious to destroy,
+With latent heroes sack'd imperial Troy.
+If faithful thou record the tale of Fame,
+The god himself inspires thy breast with flame
+And mine shall be the task henceforth to raise
+In every land thy monument of praise."
+
+Full of the god he raised his lofty strain:
+How the Greeks rush'd tumultuous to the main;
+How blazing tents illumined half the skies,
+While from the shores the winged navy flies;
+How e'en in Ilion's walls, in deathful bands,
+Came the stern Greeks by Troy's assisting hands:
+All Troy up-heaved the steed; of differing mind,
+Various the Trojans counsell'd: part consign'd
+The monster to the sword, part sentence gave
+To plunge it headlong in the whelming wave;
+The unwise award to lodge it in the towers,
+An offering sacred to the immortal powers:
+The unwise prevail, they lodge it in the walls,
+And by the gods' decree proud Ilion falls:
+Destruction enters in the treacherous wood,
+And vengeful slaughter, fierce for human blood.
+
+He sung the Greeks stern-issuing from the steed,
+How Ilion burns, how all her fathers bleed;
+How to thy dome, Deiphobus! ascends
+The Spartan king; how Ithacus attends
+(Horrid as Mars); and how with dire alarms
+He fights--subdues, for Pallas strings his arms
+
+Thus while he sung, Ulysses' griefs renew,
+Tears bathe his cheeks, and tears the ground bedew
+As some fond matron views in mortal fight
+Her husband falling in his country's right;
+Frantic through clashing swords she runs, she flies,
+As ghastly pale he groans, and faints and dies;
+Close to his breast she grovels on the ground,
+And bathes with floods of tears the gaping wound;
+She cries, she shrieks: the fierce insulting foe
+Relentless mocks her violence of woe:
+To chains condemn'd, as wildly she deplores;
+A widow, and a slave on foreign shores.
+
+So from the sluices of Ulysses' eyes
+Fast fell the tears, and sighs succeeded sighs:
+Conceal'd he grieved: the king observed alone
+The silent tear, and heard the secret groan;
+Then to the bard aloud: "O cease to sing,
+Dumb be thy voice, and mute the tuneful string;
+To every note his tears responsive flow,
+And his great heart heaves with tumultuous woe;
+Thy lay too deeply moves: then cease the lay,
+And o'er the banquet every heart be gay:
+This social right demands: for him the sails,
+Floating in air, invite the impelling gales:
+His are the gifts of love: the wise and good
+Receive the stranger as a brother's blood.
+
+"But, friend, discover faithful what I crave;
+Artful concealment ill becomes the brave:
+Say what thy birth, and what the name you bore,
+Imposed by parents in the natal hour?
+(For from the natal hour distinctive names,
+One common right, the great and lowly claims:)
+Say from what city, from what regions toss'd,
+And what inhabitants those regions boast?
+So shalt thou instant reach the realm assign'd,
+In wondrous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind;
+No helm secures their course, no pilot guides;
+Like man intelligent, they plough the tides,
+Conscious of every coast, and every bay,
+That lies beneath the sun's all-seeing ray;
+Though clouds and darkness veil the encumber'd sky,
+Fearless through darkness and through clouds they fly;
+Though tempests rage, though rolls the swelling main,
+The seas may roll, the tempests rage in vain;
+E'en the stern god that o'er the waves presides,
+Safe as they pass, and safe repass the tides,
+With fury burns; while careless they convey
+Promiscuous every guest to every bay,
+These ears have heard my royal sire disclose
+A dreadful story, big with future woes;
+How Neptune raged, and how, by his command,
+Firm rooted in a surge a ship should stand
+A monument of wrath; how mound on mound
+Should bury these proud towers beneath the ground.
+But this the gods may frustrate or fulfil,
+As suits the purpose of the Eternal Will.
+But say through what waste regions hast thou stray'd
+What customs noted, and what coasts survey'd;
+Possess'd by wild barbarians fierce in arms,
+Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?
+Say why the fate of Troy awaked thy cares,
+Why heaved thy bosom, and why flowed thy tears?
+Just are the ways of Heaven: from Heaven proceed
+The woes of man; Heaven doom'd the Greeks to bleed,
+A theme of future song! Say, then, if slain
+Some dear-loved brother press'd the Phrygian plain?
+Or bled some friend, who bore a brother's part,
+And claim'd by merit, not by blood, the heart?"
+
+
+
+BOOK IX.
+
+THE ADVENTURES OF THE CICONS, LOTOPHAGI AND CYCLOPS
+
+Ulysses begins the relation of his adventures: how, after the
+destruction of Troy, he with his companions made an incursion on
+the Cicons, by whom they were repulsed; and, meeting with a storm,
+were driven to the coast of the Lotophagi. From there they sailed
+to the land of the Cyclops, whose manners and situation are
+particularly characterised. The giant Polyphemus and his cave
+described; the usage Ulysses and his companions met with there;
+and, lastly, the method and artifice by which he escaped.
+
+
+
+Then thus Ulysses: "Thou whom first in sway,
+As first in virtue, these thy realms obey;
+How sweet the products of a peaceful reign!
+The heaven-taught poet and enchanting strain;
+The well-filled palace, the perpetual feast,
+A land rejoicing, and a people bless'd!
+How goodly seems it ever to employ
+Man's social days in union and in joy;
+The plenteous hoard high-heap'd with cates divine,
+And o'er the foaming bowl the laughing wine!
+
+"Amid these joys, why seels thy mind to know
+The unhappy series of a wanderer's woe?
+Rememberance sad, whose image to review,
+Alas, I must open all my wounds anew!
+And oh, what first, what last shall I relate,
+Of woes unnumbered sent by Heaven and Fate?
+
+"Know first the man (though now a wretch distress'd)
+Who hopes thee, monarch, for his future guest.
+Behold Ulysses! no ignoble name,
+Earth sounds my wisdom and high heaven my fame.
+
+"My native soil is Ithaca the fair,
+Where high Neritus waves his woods in air;
+Dulichium, Same and Zaccynthus crown'd
+With shady mountains spread their isles around.
+(These to the north and night's dark regions run,
+Those to Aurora and the rising sun).
+Low lies our isle, yet bless'd in fruitful stores;
+Strong are her sons, though rocky are her shores;
+And none, ah none no lovely to my sight,
+Of all the lands that heaven o'erspreads with light.
+In vain Calypso long constrained my stay,
+With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay;
+With all her charms as vainly Circe strove,
+And added magic to secure my love.
+In pomps or joys, the palace or the grot,
+My country's image never was forgot;
+My absent parents rose before my sight,
+And distant lay contentment and delight.
+
+"Hear, then, the woes which mighty Jove ordain'd
+To wait my passage from the Trojan land.
+The winds from Ilion to the Cicons' shore,
+Beneath cold Ismarus our vessels bore.
+We boldly landed on the hostile place,
+And sack'd the city, and destroy'd the race,
+Their wives made captive, their possessions shared,
+And every soldier found a like reward
+I then advised to fly; not so the rest,
+Who stay'd to revel, and prolong the feast:
+The fatted sheep and sable bulls they slay,
+And bowls flow round, and riot wastes the day.
+Meantime the Cicons, to their holds retired,
+Call on the Cicons, with new fury fired;
+With early morn the gather'd country swarms,
+And all the continent is bright with arms;
+Thick as the budding leaves or rising flowers
+O'erspread the land, when spring descends in showers:
+All expert soldiers, skill'd on foot to dare,
+Or from the bounding courser urge the war.
+Now fortune changes (so the Fates ordain);
+Our hour was come to taste our share of pain.
+Close at the ships the bloody fight began,
+Wounded they wound, and man expires on man.
+Long as the morning sun increasing bright
+O'er heaven's pure azure spreads the glowing light,
+Promiscuous death the form of war confounds,
+Each adverse battle gored with equal wounds;
+But when his evening wheels o'erhung the main,
+Then conquest crown'd the fierce Ciconian train.
+Six brave companions from each ship we lost,
+The rest escape in haste, and quit the coast,
+With sails outspread we fly the unequal strife,
+Sad for their loss, but joyful of our life.
+Yet as we fled, our fellows' rites we paid,
+And thrice we call'd on each unhappy shade,
+
+"Meanwhile the god, whose hand the thunder forms,
+Drives clouds on clouds, and blackens heaven with storms:
+Wide o'er the waste the rage of Boreas sweeps,
+And night rush'd headlong on the shaded deeps.
+Now here, now there, the giddy ships are borne,
+And all the rattling shrouds in fragments torn.
+We furl'd the sail, we plied the labouring oar,
+Took down our masts, and row'd our ships to shore.
+Two tedious days and two long nights we lay,
+O'erwatch'd and batter'd in the naked bay.
+But the third morning when Aurora brings,
+We rear the masts, we spread the canvas wings;
+Refresh'd and careless on the deck reclined,
+We sit, and trust the pilot and the wind.
+Then to my native country had I sail'd:
+But, the cape doubled, adverse winds prevail'd.
+Strong was the tide, which by the northern blast
+Impell'd, our vessels on Cythera cast,
+Nine days our fleet the uncertain tempest bore
+Far in wide ocean, and from sight of shore:
+The tenth we touch'd, by various errors toss'd,
+The land of Lotus and the flowery coast.
+We climb'd the beach, and springs of water found,
+Then spread our hasty banquet on the ground.
+Three men were sent, deputed from the crew
+(A herald one) the dubious coast to view,
+And learn what habitants possess'd the place.
+They went, and found a hospitable race:
+Not prone to ill, nor strange to foreign guest,
+They eat, they drink, and nature gives the feast
+The trees around them all their food produce:
+Lotus the name: divine, nectareous juice!
+(Thence call'd Lo'ophagi); which whose tastes,
+Insatiate riots in the sweet repasts,
+Nor other home, nor other care intends,
+But quits his house, his country, and his friends.
+The three we sent, from off the enchanting ground
+We dragg'd reluctant, and by force we bound.
+The rest in haste forsook the pleasing shore,
+Or, the charm tasted, had return'd no more.
+Now placed in order on their banks, they sweep
+The sea's smooth face, and cleave the hoary deep:
+With heavy hearts we labour through the tide,
+To coasts unknown, and oceans yet untried.
+
+"The land of Cyclops first, a savage kind,
+Nor tamed by manners, nor by laws confined:
+Untaught to plant, to turn the glebe, and sow,
+They all their products to free nature owe:
+The soil, untill'd, a ready harvest yields,
+With wheat and barley wave the golden fields;
+Spontaneous wines from weighty clusters pour,
+And Jove descends in each prolific shower,
+By these no statues and no rights are known,
+No council held, no monarch fills the throne;
+But high on hills, or airy cliffs, they dwell,
+Or deep in caves whose entrance leads to hell.
+Each rules his race, his neighbour not his care,
+Heedless of others, to his own severe.
+
+"Opposed to the Cyclopean coast, there lay
+An isle, whose hill their subject fields survey;
+Its name Lachaea, crown'd with many a grove,
+Where savage goats through pathless thickets rove:
+No needy mortals here, with hunger bold,
+Or wretched hunters through the wintry cold
+Pursue their flight; but leave them safe to bound
+From hill to hill, o'er all the desert ground.
+Nor knows the soil to feed the fleecy care,
+Or feels the labours of the crooked share;
+But uninhabited, untill'd, unsown,
+It lies, and breeds the bleating goat alone.
+For there no vessel with vermilion prore,
+Or bark of traffic, glides from shore to shore;
+The rugged race of savages, unskill'd
+The seas to traverse, or the ships to build,
+Gaze on the coast, nor cultivate the soil,
+Unlearn'd in all the industrious art of toil,
+Yet here all produces and all plants abound,
+Sprung from the fruitful genius of the ground;
+Fields waving high with heavy crops are seen,
+And vines that flourish in eternal green,
+Refreshing meads along the murmuring main,
+And fountains streaming down the fruitful plain.
+
+"A port there is, inclosed on either side,
+Where ships may rest, unanchor'd and untied;
+Till the glad mariners incline to sail,
+And the sea whitens with the rising gale,
+High at the head, from out the cavern'd rock,
+In living rills a gushing fountain broke:
+Around it, and above, for ever green,
+The busy alders form'd a shady scene;
+Hither some favouring god, beyond our thought,
+Through all surrounding shade our navy brought;
+For gloomy night descended on the main,
+Nor glimmer'd Phoebe in the ethereal plain:
+But all unseen the clouded island lay,
+And all unseen the surge and rolling sea,
+Till safe we anchor'd in the shelter'd bay:
+Our sails we gather'd, cast our cables o'er,
+And slept secure along the sandy shore.
+Soon as again the rosy morning shone,
+Reveal'd the landscape and the scene unknown,
+With wonder seized, we view the pleasing ground,
+And walk delighted, and expatiate round.
+Roused by the woodland nymphs at early dawn,
+The mountain goats came bounding o'er the lawn:
+In haste our fellows to the ships repair,
+For arms and weapons of the sylvan war;
+Straight in three squadrons all our crew we part,
+And bend the bow, or wing the missile dart;
+The bounteous gods afford a copious prey,
+And nine fat goats each vessel bears away:
+The royal bark had ten. Our ships complete
+We thus supplied (for twelve were all the fleet).
+
+"Here, till the setting sun roll'd down the light,
+We sat indulging in the genial rite:
+Nor wines were wanting; those from ample jars
+We drain'd, the prize of our Ciconian wars.
+The land of Cyclops lay in prospect near:
+The voice of goats and bleating flocks we hear,
+And from their mountains rising smokes appear.
+Now sunk the sun, and darkness cover'd o'er
+The face of things: along the sea-beat shore
+Satiate we slept: but, when the sacred dawn
+Arising glitter'd o'er the dewy lawn,
+I call'd my fellows, and these words address'd
+'My dear associates, here indulge your rest;
+While, with my single ship, adventurous, I
+Go forth, the manners of you men to try;
+Whether a race unjust, of barbarous might,
+Rude and unconscious of a stranger's right;
+Or such who harbour pity in their breast,
+Revere the gods, and succour the distress'd,'
+
+"This said, I climb'd my vessel's lofty side;
+My train obey'd me, and the ship untied.
+In order seated on their banks, they sweep
+Neptune's smooth face, and cleave the yielding deep.
+When to the nearest verge of land we drew,
+Fast by the sea a lonely cave we view,
+High, and with darkening laurels covered o'er;
+Were sheep and goats lay slumbering round the shore
+Near this, a fence of marble from the rock,
+Brown with o'eraching pine and spreading oak.
+A giant shepherd here his flock maintains
+Far from the rest, and solitary reigns,
+In shelter thick of horrid shade reclined;
+And gloomy mischiefs labour in his mind.
+A form enormous! far unlike the race
+Of human birth, in stature, or in face;
+As some lone mountain's monstrous growth he stood,
+Crown'd with rough thickets, and a nodding wood.
+I left my vessel at the point of land,
+And close to guard it, gave our crew command:
+With only twelve, the boldest and the best,
+I seek the adventure, and forsake the rest.
+Then took a goatskin fill'd with precious wine,
+The gift of Maron of Evantheus' line
+(The priest of Phoebus at the Ismarian shrine).
+In sacred shade his honour'd mansion stood
+Amidst Apollo's consecrated wood;
+Him, and his house, Heaven moved my mind to save,
+And costly presents in return he gave;
+Seven golden talents to perfection wrought,
+A silver bowl that held a copious draught,
+And twelve large vessels of unmingled wine,
+Mellifluous, undecaying, and divine!
+Which now, some ages from his race conceal'd,
+The hoary sire in gratitude reveal'd.
+Such was the wine: to quench whose fervent steam
+Scarce twenty measures from the living stream
+To cool one cup sufficed: the goblet crown'd
+Breathed aromatic fragrances around.
+Of this an ample vase we heaved aboard,
+And brought another with provisions stored.
+My soul foreboded I should find the bower
+Of some fell monster, fierce with barbarous power;
+Some rustic wretch, who lived in Heaven's despite,
+Contemning laws, and trampling on the right.
+The cave we found, but vacant all within
+(His flock the giant tended on the green):
+But round the grot we gaze; and all we view,
+In order ranged our admiration drew:
+The bending shelves with loads of cheeses press'd,
+The folded flocks each separate from the rest
+(The larger here, and there the lesser lambs,
+The new-fallen young here bleating for their dams:
+The kid distinguish'd from the lambkin lies);
+The cavern echoes with responsive cries.
+Capacious chargers all around were laid.
+Full pails, and vessels of the milking trade.
+With fresh provisions hence our fleet to store
+My friends advise me, and to quit the shore.
+Or drive a flock of sheep and goats away,
+Consult our safety, and put off to sea.
+Their wholesome counsel rashly I declined,
+Curious to view the man of monstrous kind,
+And try what social rites a savage lends:
+Dire rites, alas! and fatal to my friends
+
+"Then first a fire we kindle, and prepare
+For his return with sacrifice and prayer;
+The loaden shelves afford us full repast;
+We sit expecting. Lo! he comes at last,
+Near half a forest on his back he bore,
+And cast the ponderous burden at the door.
+It thunder'd as it fell. We trembled then,
+And sought the deep recesses of the den.
+New driven before him through the arching rock,
+Came tumbling, heaps on heaps, the unnumber'd flock.
+Big-udder'd ewes, and goats of female kind
+(The males were penn'd in outward courts behind);
+Then, heaved on high, a rock's enormous weight
+To the cave's mouth he roll'd, and closed the gate
+(Scarce twenty four-wheel'd cars, compact and strong,
+The massy load could bear, or roll along).
+He next betakes him to his evening cares,
+And, sitting down, to milk his flocks prepares;
+Of half their udders eases first the dams,
+Then to the mother's teat submits the lambs;
+Half the white stream to hardening cheese be press'd,
+And high in wicker-baskets heap'd: the rest,
+Reserved in bowls, supplied his nightly feast.
+His labour done, he fired the pile, that gave
+A sudden blaze, and lighted all the cave.
+We stand discover'd by the rising fires;
+Askance the giant glares, and thus inquires:
+
+"'What are ye, guests? on what adventure, say,
+Thus far ye wander through the watery way?
+Pirates perhaps, who seek through seas unknown
+The lives of others, and expose your own?'
+
+"His voice like thunder through the cavern sounds;
+My bold companions thrilling fear confounds,
+Appall'd at sight of more than mortal man!
+At length, with heart recover'd, I began:
+
+"'From Troy's famed fields, sad wanderers o'er the main,
+Behold the relics of the Grecian train:
+Through various seas, by various perils toss'd,
+And forced by storms, unwilling on your coast;
+Far from our destined course and native land,
+Such was our fate, and such high Jove's command!
+Nor what we are befits us to disclaim,
+Atrides' friends (in arms a mighty name),
+Who taught proud Troy and all her sons to bow;
+Victors of late, but humble suppliants now!
+Low at thy knee thy succour we implore;
+Respect us, human, and relieve us, poor.
+At least, some hospitable gift bestow;
+'Tis what the happy to the unhappy owe;
+'Tis what the gods require: those gods revere;
+The poor and stranger are their constant care;
+To Jove their cause, and their revenge belongs,
+He wanders with them, and he feels their wrongs."
+
+"'Fools that ye are (the savage thus replies,
+His inward fury blazing at his eyes),
+Or strangers, distant far from our abodes,
+To bid me reverence or regard the gods.
+Know then, we Cyclops are a race above
+Those air-bred people, and their goat-nursed Jove;
+And learn, our power proceeds with thee and thine,
+Not as he wills, but as ourselves incline.
+But answer, the good ship that brought ye o'er,
+Where lies she anchor'd? near or off the shore?'
+
+"Thus he. His meditated fraud I find
+(Versed in the turns of various human-kind):
+And, cautious thus: 'Against a dreadful rock,
+Fast by your shore the gallant vessel broke.
+Scarce with these few I 'scaped; of all my train,
+Whom angry Neptune, whelm'd beneath the main,
+The scattered wreck the winds blew back again.'
+
+"He answer'd with his deed: his bloody hand
+Snatch'd two, unhappy! of my martial band;
+And dash'd like dogs against the stony floor:
+The pavement swims with brains and mingled gore.
+Torn limb from limb, he spreads his horrid feast,
+And fierce devours it like a mountain beast:
+He sucks the marrow, and the blood he drains,
+Nor entrails, flesh, nor solid bone remains.
+We see the death from which we cannot move,
+And humbled groan beneath the hand of Jove.
+His ample maw with human carnage fill'd,
+A milky deluge next the giant swill'd;
+Then stretch'd in length o'er half the cavern'd rock,
+Lay senseless, and supine, amidst the flock.
+To seize the time, and with a sudden wound
+To fix the slumbering monster to the ground,
+My soul impels me! and in act I stand
+To draw the sword; but wisdom held my hand.
+A deed so rash had finished all our fate,
+No mortal forces from the lofty gate
+Could roll the rock. In hopeless grief we lay,
+And sigh, expecting the return of day.
+Now did the rosy-fingered morn arise,
+And shed her sacred light along the skies;
+He wakes, he lights the fire, he milks the dams,
+And to the mother's teats submits the lambs.
+The task thus finish'd of his morning hours,
+Two more he snatches, murders, and devours.
+Then pleased, and whistling, drives his flock before,
+Removes the rocky mountain from the door,
+And shuts again: with equal ease disposed,
+As a light quiver's lid is oped and closed.
+His giant voice the echoing region fills:
+His flocks, obedient, spread o'er all the hills.
+
+"Thus left behind, even in the last despair
+I thought, devised, and Pallas heard my prayer.
+Revenge, and doubt, and caution, work'd my breast;
+But this of many counsels seem'd the best:
+The monster's club within the cave I spied,
+A tree of stateliest growth, and yet undried,
+Green from the wood: of height and bulk so vast,
+The largest ship might claim it for a mast.
+This shorten'd of its top, I gave my train
+A fathom's length, to shape it and to plane;
+The narrower end I sharpen'd to a spire,
+Whose point we harden'd with the force of fire,
+And hid it in the dust that strew'd the cave,
+Then to my few companions, bold and brave,
+Proposed, who first the venturous deed should try,
+In the broad orbit of his monstrous eye
+To plunge the brand and twirl the pointed wood,
+When slumber next should tame the man of blood.
+Just as I wished, the lots were cast on four:
+Myself the fifth. We stand and wait the hour.
+He comes with evening: all his fleecy flock
+Before him march, and pour into the rock:
+Not one, or male or female, stayed behind
+(So fortune chanced, or so some god designed);
+Then heaving high the stone's unwieldy weight,
+He roll'd it on the cave and closed the gate.
+First down he sits, to milk the woolly dams,
+And then permits their udder to the lambs.
+Next seized two wretches more, and headlong cast,
+Brain'd on the rock; his second dire repast.
+I then approach'd him reeking with their gore,
+And held the brimming goblet foaming o'er;
+'Cyclop! since human flesh has been thy feast,
+Now drain this goblet, potent to digest;
+Know hence what treasures in our ship we lost,
+And what rich liquors other climates boast.
+We to thy shore the precious freight shall bear,
+If home thou send us and vouchsafe to spare.
+But oh! thus furious, thirsting thus for gore,
+The sons of men shall ne'er approach thy shore,
+And never shalt thou taste this nectar more,'
+
+"He heard, he took, and pouring down his throat,
+Delighted, swill'd the large luxurious draught,
+'More! give me more (he cried): the boon be thine,
+Whoe'er thou art that bear'st celestial wine!
+Declare thy name: not mortal is this juice,
+Such as the unbless'd Cyclopaean climes produce
+(Though sure our vine the largest cluster yields,
+And Jove's scorn'd thunder serves to drench our fields);
+But this descended from the bless'd abodes,
+A rill of nectar, streaming from the gods.'
+
+"He said, and greedy grasped the heady bowl,
+Thrice drained, and poured the deluge on his soul.
+His sense lay covered with the dozy fume;
+While thus my fraudful speech I reassume.
+'Thy promised boon, O Cyclop! now I claim,
+And plead my title; Noman is my name.
+By that distinguish'd from my tender years,
+'Tis what my parents call me, and my peers.
+
+"The giant then: 'Our promis'd grace receive,
+The hospitable boon we mean to give:
+When all thy wretched crew have felt my power,
+Noman shall be the last I will devour.'
+
+"He said: then nodding with the fumes of wine
+Droop'd his huge head, and snoring lay supine.
+His neck obliquely o'er his shoulders hung,
+Press'd with the weight of sleep that tames the strong:
+There belch'd the mingled streams of wine and blood,
+And human flesh, his indigested food.
+Sudden I stir the embers, and inspire
+With animating breath the seeds of fire:
+Each drooping spirit with bold words repair,
+And urged my train the dreadful deed to dare.
+The stake now glow'd beneath the burning bed
+(Green as it was) and sparkled fiery red,
+Then forth the vengeful instrument I bring;
+With beating hearts my fellows form a ring.
+Urged my some present god, they swift let fall
+The pointed torment on his visual ball.
+Myself above them from a rising ground
+Guide the sharp stake, and twirl it round and round.
+As when a shipwright stands his workmen o'er,
+Who ply the wimble, some huge beam to bore;
+Urged on all hands, it nimbly spins about,
+The grain deep-piercing till it scoops it out:
+In his broad eye he whirls the fiery wood;
+From the pierced pupil spouts the boiling blood;
+Singed are his brows; the scorching lids grow black;
+The jelly bubbles, and the fibres crack.
+And as when armourers temper in the ford
+The keen-edged pole-axe, or the shining sword,
+The red-hot metal hisses in the lake,
+Thus in his eye-ball hiss'd the plunging stake.
+He sends a dreadful groan, the rocks around
+Through all their inmost winding caves resound.
+Scared we recoiled.  Forth with frantic hand,
+He tore and dash'd on earth and gory brand;
+Then calls the Cyclops, all that round him dwell,
+With voice like thunder, and a direful yell.
+From all their dens the one-eyed race repair,
+From rifted rocks, and mountains bleak in air.
+All haste assembled, at his well-known roar,
+Inquire the cause, and crowd the cavern door.
+
+"'What hurts thee, Polypheme? what strange affright
+Thus breaks our slumbers, and disturbs the night?
+Does any mortal, in the unguarded hour
+Of sleep, oppress thee, or by fraud or power?
+Or thieves insidious thy fair flock surprise?'
+Thus they; the Cyclop from his den replies:
+
+"'Friends, Noman kills me; Noman in the hour
+Of sleep, oppresses me with fraudful power.'
+'If no man hurt thee, but the hand divine
+Inflict disease, it fits thee to resign:
+To Jove or to thy father Neptune pray.'
+The brethren cried, and instant strode away.
+"Joy touch'd my secret soul and conscious heart,
+Pleased with the effect of conduct and of art.
+Meantime the Cyclop, raging with his wound,
+Spreads his wide arms, and searches round and round:
+At last, the stone removing from the gate,
+With hands extended in the midst he sate;
+And search'd each passing sheep, and fell it o'er,
+Secure to seize us ere we reach'd the door
+(Such as his shallow wit he deem'd was mine);
+But secret I revolved the deep design:
+'Twas for our lives my labouring bosom wrought;
+Each scheme I turn'd, and sharpen'd every thought;
+This way and that I cast to save my friends,
+Till one resolve my varying counsel ends.
+
+"Strong were the rams, with native purple fair,
+Well fed, and largest of the fleecy care,
+These, three and three, with osier bands we tied
+(The twining bands the Cyclop's bed supplied);
+The midmost bore a man, the outward two
+Secured each side: so bound we all the crew,
+One ram remain'd, the leader of the flock:
+In his deep fleece my grasping hands I lock,
+And fast beneath, in wooly curls inwove,
+There cling implicit, and confide in Jove.
+When rosy morning glimmer'd o'er the dales,
+He drove to pasture all the lusty males:
+The ewes still folded, with distended thighs
+Unmilk'd lay bleating in distressful cries.
+But heedless of those cares, with anguish stung,
+He felt their fleeces as they pass'd along
+(Fool that he was.) and let them safely go,
+All unsuspecting of their freight below.
+
+"The master ram at last approach'd the gate,
+Charged with his wool, and with Ulysses' fate.
+Him while he pass'd, the monster blind bespoke:
+'What makes my ram the lag of all the flock?
+First thou wert wont to crop the flowery mead,
+First to the field and river's bank to lead,
+And first with stately step at evening hour
+Thy fleecy fellows usher to their bower.
+Now far the last, with pensive pace and slow
+Thou movest, as conscious of thy master's woe!
+Seest thou these lids that now unfold in vain?
+(The deed of Noman and his wicked train!)
+Oh! did'st thou feel for thy afflicted lord,
+And would but Fate the power of speech afford.
+Soon might'st thou tell me, where in secret here
+The dastard lurks, all trembling with his fear:
+Swung round and round, and dash'd from rock to rock,
+His battered brains should on the pavement smoke
+No ease, no pleasure my sad heart receives,
+While such a monster as vile Noman lives.'
+
+"The giant spoke, and through the hollow rock
+Dismiss'd the ram, the father of the flock.
+No sooner freed, and through the inclosure pass'd,
+First I release myself, my fellows last:
+Fat sheep and goats in throngs we drive before,
+And reach our vessel on the winding shore.
+With joy the sailors view their friends return'd,
+And hail us living whom as dead they mourn'd
+Big tears of transport stand in every eye:
+I check their fondness, and command to fly.
+Aboard in haste they heave the wealthy sheep,
+And snatch their oars, and rush into the deep.
+"Now off at sea, and from the shallows clear,
+As far as human voice could reach the ear,
+With taunts the distant giant I accost:
+'Hear me, O Cyclop! hear, ungracious host!
+'Twas on no coward, no ignoble slave,
+Thou meditatest thy meal in yonder cave;
+But one, the vengeance fated from above
+Doom'd to inflict; the instrument of Jove.
+Thy barbarous breach of hospitable bands,
+The god, the god revenges by my hands.'
+
+"These words the Cyclop's burning rage provoke;
+From the tall hill he rends a pointed rock;
+High o'er the billows flew the massy load,
+And near the ship came thundering on the flood.
+It almost brush'd the helm, and fell before:
+The whole sea shook, and refluent beat the shore,
+The strong concussion on the heaving tide
+Roll'd back the vessel to the island's side:
+Again I shoved her off: our fate to fly,
+Each nerve we stretch, and every oar we ply.
+Just 'scaped impending death, when now again
+We twice as far had furrow'd back the main,
+Once more I raise my voice; my friends, afraid,
+With mild entreaties my design dissuade:
+'What boots the godless giant to provoke,
+Whose arm may sink us at a single stroke?
+Already when the dreadful rock he threw,
+Old Ocean shook, and back his surges flew.
+The sounding voice directs his aim again;
+The rock o'erwhelms us, and we 'scaped in vain.'
+
+"But I, of mind elate, and scorning fear,
+Thus with new taunts insult the monster's ear:
+'Cyclop! if any, pitying thy disgrace.
+Ask, who disfigured thus that eyeless face?
+Say 'twas Ulysses: 'twas his deed declare,
+Laertes' son, of Ithaca the fair;
+Ulysses, far in fighting fields renown'd,
+Before whose arm Troy tumbled to the ground.'
+
+"The astonished savage with a roar replies:
+'Oh heavens! oh faith of ancient prophecies!
+This, Telemus Eurymedes foretold
+(The mighty seer who on these hills grew old;
+Skill'd the dark fates of mortals to declare,
+And learn'd in all wing'd omens of the air);
+Long since he menaced, such was Fate's command;
+And named Ulysses as the destined hand.
+I deem'd some godlike giant to behold,
+Or lofty hero, haughty, brave, and bold;
+Not this weak pigmy wretch, of mean design,
+Who, not by strength subdued me, but by wine.
+But come, accept our gifts, and join to pray
+Great Neptune's blessing on the watery way;
+For his I am, and I the lineage own;
+The immortal father no less boasts the son.
+His power can heal me, and relight my eye;
+And only his, of all the gods on high.'
+"'Oh! could this arm (I thus aloud rejoin'd)
+From that vast bulk dislodge thy bloody mind,
+And send thee howling to the realms of night!
+As sure as Neptune cannot give thee sight.'
+"Thus I; while raging he repeats his cries,
+With hands uplifted to the starry skies?
+'Hear me, O Neptune; thou whose arms are hurl'd
+From shore to shore, and gird the solid world;
+If thine I am, nor thou my birth disown,
+And if the unhappy Cyclop be thy son,
+Let not Ulysses breathe his native air,
+Laertes' son, of Ithaca the fair.
+If to review his country be his fate,
+Be it through toils and sufferings long and late;
+His lost companions let him first deplore;
+Some vessel, not his own, transport him o'er;
+And when at home from foreign sufferings freed,
+More near and deep, domestic woes succeed!'
+With imprecations thus he fill'd the air,
+And angry Neptune heard the unrighteous prayer,
+A larger rock then heaving from the plain,
+He whirl'd it round: it sung across the main;
+It fell, and brush'd the stern: the billows roar,
+Shake at the weight, and refluent beat the shore.
+With all our force we kept aloof to sea,
+And gain'd the island where our vessels lay.
+Our sight the whole collected navy cheer'd.
+Who, waiting long, by turns had hoped and fear'd.
+There disembarking on the green sea side,
+We land our cattle, and the spoil divide;
+Of these due shares to every sailor fall;
+The master ram was voted mine by all;
+And him (the guardian of Ulysses' fate)
+With pious mind to heaven I consecrate.
+But the great god, whose thunder rends the skies,
+Averse, beholds the smoking sacrifice;
+And sees me wandering still from coast to coast,
+And all my vessels, all my people, lost!
+While thoughtless we indulge the genial rite,
+As plenteous cates and flowing bowls invite;
+Till evening Phoebus roll'd away the light;
+Stretch'd on the shore in careless ease we rest,
+Till ruddy morning purpled o'er the east;
+Then from their anchors all our ships unbind,
+And mount the decks, and call the willing wind.
+Now, ranged in order on our banks we sweep.
+With hasty strokes the hoarse-resounding deep;
+Blind to the future, pensive with our fears,
+Glad for the living, for the dead in tears."
+
+
+
+BOOK X.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+ADVENTURES WITH AEOLUS, THE LAESTRYGONS, AND CIRCE.
+
+Ulysses arrives at the island of AEolus, who gives him prosperous
+winds, and incloses the adverse ones in a bag, which his
+companions untying, they are driven back again and rejected.
+Then they sail to the Laestrygons, where they lose eleven ships,
+and, with only one remaining, proceed to the island of Circe.
+Eurylochus is sent first with some companions, all which, except
+Eurylochus, are transformed into swine. Ulysses then undertakes
+the adventure, and, by the help of Mercury, who gives him the herb
+Moly, overcomes the enchantress, and procures the restoration of
+his men. After a year's stay with her, he prepares, at her
+instigation, for his voyage to the infernal shades.
+
+
+
+"AT length we reach'd AEolias's sea-girt shore,
+Where great Hippotades the sceptre bore,
+A floating isle! high-raised by toil divine,
+Strong walls of brass the rocky coast confine.
+Six blooming youths, in private grandeur bred,
+And six fair daughters, graced the royal bed;
+These sons their sisters wed, and all remain
+Their parents' pride, and pleasure of their reign.
+All day they feast, all day the bowls flow round,
+And joy and music through the isle resound;
+At night each pair on splendid carpets lay,
+And crown'd with love the pleasures of the day.
+This happy port affords our wandering fleet
+A month's reception, and a safe retreat.
+Full oft the monarch urged me to relate
+The fall of Ilion, and the Grecian fate;
+Full oft I told: at length for parting moved;
+The king with mighty gifts my suit approved.
+The adverse winds in leathern bags he braced,
+Compress'd their force, and lock'd each struggling blast.
+For him the mighty sire of gods assign'd
+The tempest's lood, the tyrant of the wind;
+His word alone the listening storms obey,
+To smooth the deep, or swell the foamy sea.
+These in my hollow ship the monarch hung,
+Securely fetter'd by a silver thong:
+But Zephyrus exempt, with friendly gales
+He charged to fill, and guide the swelling sails:
+Rare gift! but O, what gift to fools avails!
+
+"Nine prosperous days we plied the labouring oar;
+The tenth presents our welcome native shore:
+The hills display the beacon's friendly light,
+And rising mountains gain upon our sight.
+Then first my eyes, by watchful toils oppress'd,
+Complied to take the balmy gifts of rest:
+Then first my hands did from the rudder part
+(So much the love of home possess'd my heart):
+When lo! on board a fond debate arose;
+What rare device those vessels might inclose?
+What sum, what prize from AEolus I brought?
+Whilst to his neighbour each express'd his thought:
+
+"'Say, whence ye gods, contending nations strive
+Who most shall please, who most our hero give?
+Long have his coffers groan'd with Trojan spoils:
+Whilst we, the wretched partners of his toils,
+Reproach'd by want, our fruitless labours mourn,
+And only rich in barren fame return.
+Now AEolus, ye see, augments his store:
+But come, my friends, these mystic gifts explore,'
+They said: and (oh cursed fate!) the thongs unbound!
+The gushing tempest sweeps the ocean round;
+Snatch'd in the whirl, the hurried navy flew,
+The ocean widen'd and the shores withdrew.
+Roused from my fatal sleep I long debate
+If still to live, or desperate plunge to fate;
+Thus doubting, prostrate on the deck I lay,
+Till all the coward thoughts of death gave way.
+
+"Meanwhile our vessels plough the liquid plain,
+And soon the known AEolian coast regain;
+Our groan the rocks remurmur'd to the main.
+We leap'd on shore, and with a scanty feast
+Our thirst and hunger hastily repress'd;
+That done, two chosen heralds straight attend
+Our second progress to my royal friend;
+And him amidst his jovial sons we found;
+The banquet steaming, and the goblets crown'd;
+There humbly stoop'd with conscious shame and awe,
+Nor nearer than the gate presumed to draw.
+But soon his sons their well-known guest descried,
+And starting from their couches loudly cried:
+'Ulysses here! what demon could'st thou meet
+To thwart thy passage, and repel thy fleet?
+Wast thou not furnish'd by our choicest care
+For Greece, for home and all thy soul held dear?'
+Thus they, In silence long my fate I mourn'd;
+At length these words with accents low return'd:
+`Me, lock'd in sleep, my faithless crew bereft
+Of all the blessing of your godlike gift!
+But grant, oh grant, our loss we may retrieve;
+A favour you, and you alone can give.'
+
+"Thus I with art to move their pity tried,
+And touch'd the youths; but their stern sire replied:
+'Vile wretch, begone! this instant I command
+Thy fleet accursed to leave our hallow'd land.
+His baneful suit pollutes these bless'd abodes,
+Whose fate proclaims him hateful to the gods.'
+
+"Thus fierce he said: we sighing went our way,
+And with desponding hearts put off to sea.
+The sailors spent with toils their folly mourn,
+But mourn in vain; no prospect of return
+Six days and nights a doubtful course we steer,
+The next proud Lamos' stately towers appear,
+And Laestrygonia's gates arise distinct in air.
+The shepherd, quitting here at night the plain,
+Calls, to succeed his cares, the watchful swain;
+But he that scorns the chains of sleep to wear,
+And adds the herdsman's to the shepherd's care,
+So near the pastures, and so short the way,
+His double toils may claim a double pay,
+And join the labours of the night and day.
+
+"Within a long recess a bay there lies,
+Edged round with cliffs high pointing to the skies;
+The jutting shores that swell on either side
+Contract its mouth, and break the rushing tide.
+Our eager sailors seize the fair retreat,
+And bound within the port their crowded fleet:
+For here retired the sinking billows sleep,
+And smiling calmness silver'd o'er the deep.
+I only in the bay refused to moor,
+And fix'd without, my halsers to the shore.
+
+"From thence we climb'd a point, whose airy brow
+Commands the prospect of the plains below;
+No tracks of beasts, or signs of men, we found,
+But smoky volumes rolling from the ground.
+Two with our herald thither we command,
+With speed to learn what men possess'd the land.
+They went, and kept the wheel's smooth-beaten road
+Which to the city drew the mountain wood;
+When lo! they met, beside a crystal spring,
+The daughter of Antiphates the king;
+She to Artacia's silver streams came down;
+(Artacia's streams alone supply the town);
+The damsel they approach, and ask'd what race
+The people were? who monarch of the place?
+With joy the maid the unwary strangers heard
+And show'd them where the royal dome appear'd.
+They went; but as they entering saw the queen
+Of size enormous, and terrific mien
+(Not yielding to some bulky mountain's height),
+A sudden horror struck their aching sight.
+Swift at her call her husband scour'd away
+To wreak his hunger on the destined prey;
+One for his food the raging glutton slew,
+But two rush'd out, and to the navy flew.
+
+"Balk'd of his prey, the yelling monster flies,
+And fills the city with his hideous cries;
+A ghastly band of giants hear the roar,
+And, pouring down the mountains, crowd the shore.
+Fragments they rend from off the craggy brow
+And dash the ruins on the ships below;
+The crackling vessels burst; hoarse groans arise,
+And mingled horrors echo to the skies;
+The men like fish, they struck upon the flood,
+And cramm'd their filthy throats with human food.
+Whilst thus their fury rages at the bay,
+My sword our cables cut, I call'd to weigh;
+And charged my men, as they from fate would fly,
+Each nerve to strain, each bending oar to ply.
+The sailors catch the word, their oars they seize,
+And sweep with equal strokes the smoky seas;
+Clear of the rocks the impatient vessel flies;
+Whilst in the port each wretch encumber'd dies.
+With earnest haste my frighted sailors press,
+While kindling transports glow'd at our success;
+But the sad fate that did our friends destroy,
+Cool'd every breast, and damp'd the rising joy.
+
+"Now dropp'd our anchors in the Aeaean bay,
+Where Circe dwelt, the daughter of the Day!
+Her mother Perse, of old Ocean's strain,
+Thus from the Lun descended, and the Main
+(From the same lineage stern Aeaetes came,
+The far-famed brother of the enchantress dame);
+Goddess, the queen, to whom the powers belong
+Of dreadful magic and commanding song.
+Some god directing to this peaceful bay
+Silent we came, and melancholy lay,
+Spent and o'erwatch'd. Two days and nights roll'd on,
+And now the third succeeding morning shone.
+I climb'd a cliff, with spear and sword in hand,
+Whose ridge o'erlook'd a shady length of land;
+To learn if aught of mortal works appear,
+Or cheerful voice of mortal strike the ear?
+From the high point I mark'd, in distant view,
+A stream of curling smoke ascending blue,
+And spiry tops, the tufted trees above,
+Of Circe's palace bosom'd in the grove.
+
+"Thither to haste, the region to explore,
+Was first my thought: but speeding back to shore
+I deem'd it best to visit first my crew,
+And send our spies the dubious coast to view.
+As down the hill I solitary go,
+Some power divine, who pities human woe,
+Sent a tall stag, descending from the wood,
+To cool his fervour in the crystal flood;
+Luxuriant on the wave-worn bank he lay,
+Stretch'd forth and panting in the sunny ray.
+I launch'd my spear, and with a sudden wound
+Transpierced his back, and fix'd him to the ground.
+He falls, and mourns his fate with human cries:
+Through the wide wound the vital spirit flies.
+I drew, and casting on the river's side
+The bloody spear, his gather'd feet I tied
+With twining osiers which the bank supplied.
+An ell in length the pliant wisp I weaved,
+And the huge body on my shoulders heaved:
+Then leaning on my spear with both my hands,
+Upbore my load, and press'd the sinking sands
+With weighty steps, till at the ship I threw
+The welcome burden, and bespoke my crew:
+
+"'Cheer up, my friends! it is not yet our fate
+To glide with ghosts through Pluto's gloomy gate.
+Food in the desert land, behold! is given!
+Live, and enjoy the providence of heaven.'
+
+"The joyful crew survey his mighty size,
+And on the future banquet feast their eyes,
+As huge in length extended lay the beast;
+Then wash their hands, and hasten to the feast.
+There, till the setting sun roll'd down the light,
+They sate indulging in the genial rite.
+When evening rose, and darkness cover'd o'er
+The face of things, we slept along the shore.
+But when the rosy morning warm'd the east,
+My men I summon'd, and these words address'd:
+"'Followers and friends, attend what I propose:
+Ye sad companions of Ulysses' woes!
+We know not here what land before us lies,
+Or to what quarter now we turn our eyes,
+Or where the sun shall set, or where shall rise.
+Here let us think (if thinking be not vain)
+If any counsel, any hope remain.
+Alas! from yonder promontory's brow
+I view'd the coast, a region flat and low;
+An isle encircled with the boundless flood;
+A length of thickets, and entangled wood.
+Some smoke I saw amid the forest rise,
+And all around it only seas and skies!'
+
+"With broken hearts my sad companions stood,
+Mindful of Cyclops and his human food,
+And horrid Laestrygons, the men of blood.
+Presaging tears apace began to rain;
+But tears in mortal miseries are vain.
+In equal parts I straight divide my band,
+And name a chief each party to command;
+I led the one, and of the other side
+Appointed brave Eurylochus the guide.
+Then in the brazen helm the lots we throw,
+And fortune casts Eurylochus to go;
+He march'd with twice eleven in his train;
+Pensive they march, and pensive we remain.
+
+"The palace in a woody vale they found,
+High raised of stone; a shaded space around;
+Where mountain wolves and brindled lions roam,
+(By magic tamed,) familiar to the dome.
+With gentle blandishment our men they meet,
+And wag their tails, and fawning lick their feet.
+As from some feast a man returning late,
+His faithful dogs all meet him at the gate,
+Rejoicing round, some morsel to receive,
+(Such as the good man ever used to give,)
+Domestic thus the grisly beasts drew near;
+They gaze with wonder not unmix'd with fear.
+Now on the threshold of the dome they stood,
+And heard a voice resounding through the wood:
+Placed at her loom within, the goddess sung;
+The vaulted roofs and solid pavement rung.
+O'er the fair web the rising figures shine,
+Immortal labour! worthy hands divine.
+Polites to the rest the question moved
+(A gallant leader, and a man I loved):
+
+"'What voice celestial, chanting to the loom
+(Or nymph, or goddess), echoes from the room?
+Say, shall we seek access?' With that they call;
+And wide unfold the portals of the hall.
+
+"The goddess, rising, asks her guests to stay,
+Who blindly follow where she leads the way.
+Eurylochus alone of all the band,
+Suspecting fraud, more prudently remain'd.
+On thrones around with downy coverings graced,
+With semblance fair, the unhappy men she placed.
+Milk newly press'd, the sacred flour of wheat,
+And honey fresh, and Pramnian wines the treat:
+But venom'd was the bread, and mix'd the bowl,
+With drugs of force to darken all the soul:
+Soon in the luscious feast themselves they lost,
+And drank oblivion of their native coast.
+Instant her circling wand the goddess waves,
+To hogs transforms them, and the sty receives.
+No more was seen the human form divine;
+Head, face, and members, bristle into swine:
+Still cursed with sense, their minds remain alone,
+And their own voice affrights them when they groan.
+Meanwhile the goddess in disdain bestows
+The mast and acorn, brutal food! and strows
+The fruits and cornel, as their feast, around;
+Now prone and grovelling on unsavoury ground.
+
+"Eurylochus, with pensive steps and slow.
+Aghast returns; the messenger of woe,
+And bitter fate. To speak he made essay,
+In vain essay'd, nor would his tongue obey.
+His swelling heart denied the words their way:
+But speaking tears the want of words supply,
+And the full soul bursts copious from his eye.
+Affrighted, anxious for our fellows' fates,
+We press to hear what sadly he relates:
+
+"We went, Ulysses! (such was thy command)
+Through the lone thicket and the desert land.
+A palace in a woody vale we found
+Brown with dark forests, and with shades around.
+A voice celestial echoed through the dome,
+Or nymph or goddess, chanting to the loom.
+Access we sought, nor was access denied:
+Radiant she came: the portals open'd wide:
+The goddess mild invites the guests to stay:
+They blindly follow where she leads the way.
+I only wait behind of all the train:
+I waited long, and eyed the doors in vain:
+The rest are vanish'd, none repass'd the gate,
+And not a man appears to tell their fate.'
+
+"I heard, and instant o'er my shoulder flung
+The belt in which my weighty falchion hung
+(A beamy blade): then seized the bended bow,
+And bade him guide the way, resolved to go.
+He, prostrate falling, with both hands embraced
+My knees, and weeping thus his suit address'd:
+
+"'O king, beloved of Jove, thy servant spare,
+And ah, thyself the rash attempt forbear!
+Never, alas! thou never shalt return,
+Or see the wretched for whose loss we mourn.
+With what remains from certain ruin fly,
+And save the few not fated yet to die.'
+
+"I answer'd stern: 'Inglorious then remain,
+Here feast and loiter, and desert thy train.
+Alone, unfriended, will I tempt my way;
+The laws of fate compel, and I obey.'
+This said, and scornful turning from the shore
+My haughty step, I stalk'd the valley o'er.
+Till now approaching nigh the magic bower,
+Where dwelt the enchantress skill'd in herbs of power,
+A form divine forth issued from the wood
+(Immortal Hermes with the golden rod)
+In human semblance. On his bloomy face
+Youth smiled celestial, with each opening grace.
+He seized my hand, and gracious thus began:
+'Ah whither roam'st thou, much-enduring man?
+O blind to fate! what led thy steps to rove
+The horrid mazes of this magic grove?
+Each friend you seek in yon enclosure lies,
+All lost their form, and habitants of sties.
+Think'st thou by wit to model their escape?
+Sooner shalt thou, a stranger to thy shape,
+Fall prone their equal: first thy danger know,
+Then take the antidote the gods bestow.
+The plant I give through all the direful bower
+Shall guard thee, and avert the evil hour.
+Now hear her wicked arts: Before thy eyes
+The bowl shall sparkle, and the banquet rise;
+Take this, nor from the faithless feast abstain,
+For temper'd drugs and poison shall be vain.
+Soon as she strikes her wand, and gives the word,
+Draw forth and brandish thy refulgent sword,
+And menace death: those menaces shall move
+Her alter'd mind to blandishment and love.
+Nor shun the blessing proffer'd to thy arms,
+Ascend her bed, and taste celestial charms;
+So shall thy tedious toils a respite find,
+And thy lost friends return to human kind.
+But swear her first by those dread oaths that tie
+The powers below, the blessed in the sky;
+Lest to thee naked secret fraud be meant,
+Or magic bind thee cold and impotent.
+
+"Thus while he spoke, the sovereign plant he drew
+Where on the all-bearing earth unmark'd it grew,
+And show'd its nature and its wondrous power:
+Black was the root, but milky white the flower;
+Moly the name, to mortals hard to find,
+But all is easy to the ethereal kind.
+This Hermes gave, then, gliding off the glade,
+Shot to Olympus from the woodland shade.
+While, full of thought, revolving fates to come,
+I speed my passage to the enchanted dome.
+Arrived, before the lofty gates I stay'd;
+The lofty gates the goddess wide display'd;
+She leads before, and to the feast invites;
+I follow sadly to the magic rites.
+Radiant with starry studs, a silver seat
+Received my limbs: a footstool eased my feet,
+She mix'd the potion, fraudulent of soul;
+The poison mantled in the golden bowl.
+I took, and quaff'd it, confident in heaven.
+Then waved the wand, and then the word was given.
+'Hence to thy fellows! (dreadful she began:)
+Go, be a beast!'--I heard, and yet was man.
+
+"Then, sudden whirling, like a waving flame,
+My beamy falchion, I assault the dame.
+Struck with unusual fear, she trembling cries,
+She faints, she falls; she lifts her weeping eyes.
+
+"'What art thou? say! from whence, from whom you came?
+O more than human! tell thy race, thy name.
+Amazing strength, these poisons to sustain!
+Not mortal thou, nor mortal is thy brain.
+Or art thou he, the man to come (foretold
+By Hermes, powerful with the wand of gold),
+The man from Troy, who wander'd ocean round;
+The man for wisdom's various arts renown'd,
+Ulysses? Oh! thy threatening fury cease;
+Sheathe thy bright sword, and join our hands in peace!
+Let mutual joys our mutual trust combine,
+And love, and love-born confidence, be thine.'
+
+"'And how, dread Circe! (furious I rejoin)
+Can love, and love-born confidence, be mine,
+Beneath thy charms when my companions groan,
+Transform'd to beasts, with accents not their own?
+O thou of fraudful heart, shall I be led
+To share thy feast-rites, or ascend thy bed;
+That, all unarm'd, thy vengeance may have vent,
+And magic bind me, cold and impotent?
+Celestial as thou art, yet stand denied;
+Or swear that oath by which the gods are tied,
+Swear, in thy soul no latent frauds remain,
+Swear by the vow which never can be vain.'
+
+"The goddess swore: then seized my hand, and led
+To the sweet transports of the genial bed.
+Ministrant to the queen, with busy care
+Four faithful handmaids the soft rites prepare;
+Nymphs sprung from fountains, or from shady woods,
+Or the fair offspring of the sacred floods.
+One o'er the couches painted carpets threw,
+Whose purple lustre glow'd against the view:
+White linen lay beneath. Another placed
+The silver stands, with golden flaskets graced:
+With dulcet beverage this the beaker crown'd,
+Fair in the midst, with gilded cups around:
+That in the tripod o'er the kindled pile
+The water pours; the bubbling waters boil;
+An ample vase receives the smoking wave;
+And, in the bath prepared, my limbs I lave:
+Reviving sweets repair the mind's decay,
+And take the painful sense of toil away.
+A vest and tunic o'er me next she threw,
+Fresh from the bath, and dropping balmy dew;
+Then led and placed me on the sovereign seat,
+With carpets spread; a footstool at my feet.
+The golden ewer a nymph obsequious brings,
+Replenish'd from the cool translucent springs;
+With copious water the bright vase supplies
+A silver laver of capacious size.
+I wash'd. The table in fair order spread,
+They heap the glittering canisters with bread:
+Viands of various kinds allure the taste,
+Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!
+Circe in vain invites the feast to share;
+Absent I ponder, and absorb'd in care;
+While scenes of woe rose anxious in my breast,
+The queen beheld me, and these words address'd:
+
+"'Why sits Ulysses silent and apart,
+Some hoard of grief close harbour'd at his heart
+Untouch'd before thee stand the cates divine,
+And unregarded laughs the rosy wine.
+Can yet a doubt or any dread remain,
+When sworn that oath which never can be vain?'
+
+"I answered: 'Goddess! human is my breast,
+By justice sway'd, by tender pity press'd:
+Ill fits it me, whose friends are sunk to beasts,
+To quaff thy bowls, or riot in thy feasts.
+Me would'st thou please? for them thy cares employ,
+And them to me restore, and me to joy.'
+
+"With that she parted: in her potent hand
+She bore the virtue of the magic wand.
+Then, hastening to the sties, set wide the door,
+Urged forth, and drove the bristly herd before;
+Unwieldy, out they rush'd with general cry,
+Enormous beasts, dishonest to the eye.
+Now touch'd by counter-charms they change again,
+And stand majestic, and recall'd to men.
+Those hairs of late that bristled every part,
+Fall off, miraculous effect of art!
+Till all the form in full proportion rise,
+More young, more large, more graceful to my eyes.
+They saw, they knew me, and with eager pace
+Clung to their master in a long embrace:
+Sad, pleasing sight! with tears each eye ran o'er,
+And sobs of joy re-echoed through the bower;
+E'en Circe wept, her adamantine heart
+Felt pity enter, and sustain'd her part.
+
+"'Son of Laertes! (then the queen began)
+Oh much-enduring, much experienced man!
+Haste to thy vessel on the sea-beat shore,
+Unload thy treasures, and the galley moor;
+Then bring thy friends, secure from future harms,
+And in our grottoes stow thy spoils and arms,'
+
+"She said. Obedient to her high command
+I quit the place, and hasten to the strand,
+My sad companions on the beach I found,
+Their wistful eyes in floods of sorrow drown'd.
+
+"As from fresh pastures and the dewy field
+(When loaded cribs their evening banquet yield)
+The lowing herds return; around them throng
+With leaps and bounds their late imprison'd young,
+Rush to their mothers with unruly joy,
+And echoing hills return the tender cry:
+So round me press'd, exulting at my sight,
+With cries and agonies of wild delight,
+The weeping sailors; nor less fierce their joy
+Than if return'd to Ithaca from Troy.
+'Ah master! ever honour'd, ever dear!
+(These tender words on every side I hear)
+What other joy can equal thy return?
+Not that loved country for whose sight we mourn,
+The soil that nursed us, and that gave us breath:
+But ah! relate our lost companions' death.'
+
+"I answer'd cheerful: 'Haste, your galley moor,
+And bring our treasures and our arms ashore:
+Those in yon hollow caverns let us lay,
+Then rise, and follow where I lead the way.
+Your fellows live; believe your eyes, and come
+To taste the joys of Circe's sacred dome.'
+
+"With ready speed the joyful crew obey:
+Alone Eurylochus persuades their stay.
+
+"'Whither (he cried), ah whither will ye run?
+Seek ye to meet those evils ye should shun?
+Will you the terrors of the dome explore,
+In swine to grovel, or in lions roar,
+Or wolf-like howl away the midnight hour
+In dreadful watch around the magic bower?
+Remember Cyclops, and his bloody deed;
+The leader's rashness made the soldiers bleed.'
+
+"I heard incensed, and first resolved to speed
+My flying falchion at the rebel's head.
+Dear as he was, by ties of kindred bound,
+This hand had stretch'd him breathless on the ground.
+But all at once my interposing train
+For mercy pleaded, nor could plead in vain.
+'Leave here the man who dares his prince desert,
+Leave to repentance and his own sad heart,
+To guard the ship. Seek we the sacred shades
+Of Circe's palace, where Ulysses leads.'
+
+"This with one voice declared, the rising train
+Left the black vessel by the murmuring main.
+Shame touch'd Eurylochus' alter'd breast:
+He fear'd my threats, and follow'd with the rest.
+
+"Meanwhile the goddess, with indulgent cares
+And social joys, the late transform'd repairs;
+The bath, the feast, their fainting soul renews:
+Rich in refulgent robes, and dropping balmy dews:
+Brightening with joy, their eager eyes behold,
+Each other's face, and each his story told;
+Then gushing tears the narrative confound,
+And with their sobs the vaulted roof resound.
+When hush'd their passion, thus the goddess cries:
+'Ulysses, taught by labours to be wise,
+Let this short memory of grief suffice.
+To me are known the various woes ye bore.
+In storms by sea, in perils on the shore;
+Forget whatever was in Fortune's power,
+And share the pleasures of this genial hour.
+Such be your mind as ere ye left your coast,
+Or learn'd to sorrow for a country lost.
+Exiles and wanderers now, where'er ye go,
+Too faithful memory renews your woe:
+The cause removed, habitual griefs remain,
+And the soul saddens by the use of pain.'
+
+"Her kind entreaty moved the general breast;
+Tired with long toil, we willing sunk to rest.
+We plied the banquet, and the bowl we crown'd,
+Till the full circle of the year came round.
+But when the seasons following in their train,
+Brought back the months, the days, and hours again;
+As from a lethargy at once they rise,
+And urge their chief with animating cries:
+
+"'Is this, Ulysses, our inglorious lot?
+And is the name of Ithaca forgot?
+Shall never the dear land in prospect rise,
+Or the loved palace glitter in our eyes?
+"Melting I heard; yet till the sun's decline
+Prolong'd the feast, and quaff'd the rosy wine
+But when the shades came on at evening hour,
+And all lay slumbering in the dusky bower,
+I came a suppliant to fair Circe's bed,
+The tender moment seized, and thus I said:
+'Be mindful, goddess! of thy promise made;
+Must sad Ulysses ever be delay'd?
+Around their lord my sad companions mourn,
+Each breast beats homeward, anxious to return:
+If but a moment parted from thy eyes,
+Their tears flow round me, and my heart complies.'
+
+"'Go then (she cried), ah go! yet think, not I,
+Not Circe, but the Fates, your wish deny.
+Ah, hope not yet to breathe thy native air!
+Far other journey first demands thy care;
+To tread the uncomfortable paths beneath,
+And view the realms of darkness and of death.
+There seek the Theban bard, deprived of sight;
+Within, irradiate with prophetic light;
+To whom Persephone, entire and whole,
+Gave to retain the unseparated soul:
+The rest are forms, of empty ether made;
+Impassive semblance, and a flitting shade.'
+
+"Struck at the word, my very heart was dead:
+Pensive I sate: my tears bedew'd the bed:
+To hate the light and life my soul begun,
+And saw that all was grief beneath the sun:
+Composed at length the gushing tears suppress'd,
+And my toss'd limbs now wearied into rest.
+'How shall I tread (I cried), ah, Circe! say,
+The dark descent, and who shall guide the way?
+Can living eyes behold the realms below?
+What bark to waft me, and what wind to blow?'
+
+"'Thy fated road (the magic power replied),
+Divine Ulysses! ask no mortal guide.
+Rear but the mast, the spacious sail display,
+The northern winds shall wing thee on thy way.
+Soon shalt thou reach old Ocean's utmost ends,
+Where to the main the shelving shore descends;
+The barren trees of Proserpine's black woods,
+Poplars and willows trembling o'er the floods:
+There fix thy vessel in the lonely bay,
+And enter there the kingdoms void of day,
+Where Phlegethon's loud torrents, rushing down,
+Hiss in the flaming gulf of Acheron;
+And where, slow rolling from the Stygian bed,
+Cocytus' lamentable waters spread:
+Where the dark rock o'erhangs the infernal lake,
+And mingling streams eternal murmurs make.
+First draw thy falchion, and on every side
+Trench the black earth a cubit long and wide:
+To all the shades around libations pour,
+And o'er the ingredients strew the hallow'd flour:
+New wine and milk, with honey temper'd bring,
+And living water from the crystal spring.
+Then the wan shades and feeble ghosts implore,
+With promised offerings on thy native shore;
+A barren cow, the stateliest of the isle,
+And heap'd with various wealth, a blazing pile:
+These to the rest; but to the seer must bleed
+A sable ram, the pride of all thy breed.
+These solemn vows and holy offerings paid
+To all the phantom nations of the dead,
+Be next thy care the sable sheep to place
+Full o'er the pit, and hellward turn their face:
+But from the infernal rite thine eye withdraw,
+And back to Ocean glance with reverend awe.
+Sudden shall skim along the dusky glades
+Thin airy shoals, and visionary shades.
+Then give command the sacrifice to haste,
+Let the flay'd victims in the flame be cast,
+And sacred vows and mystic song applied
+To grisly Pluto and his gloomy bride.
+Wide o'er the pool thy falchion waved around
+Shall drive the spectres from unbidden ground:
+The sacred draught shall all the dead forbear,
+Till awful from the shades arise the seer.
+Let him, oraculous, the end, the way,
+The turns of all thy future fate display,
+Thy pilgrimage to come, and remnant of thy day.'
+
+"So speaking, from the ruddy orient shone
+The morn, conspicuous on her golden throne.
+The goddess with a radiant tunic dress'd
+My limbs, and o'er me cast a silken vest.
+Long flowing robes, of purest white, array
+The nymph, that added lustre to the day:
+A tiar wreath'd her head with many a fold;
+Her waist was circled with a zone of gold.
+Forth issuing then, from place to place I flew;
+Rouse man by man, and animate my crew.
+'Rise, rise, my mates! 'tis Circe gives command:
+Our journey calls us; haste, and quit the land.'
+All rise and follow, yet depart not all,
+For Fate decreed one wretched man to fall.
+
+"A youth there was, Elpenor was he named,
+Not much for sense, nor much for courage famed:
+The youngest of our band, a vulgar soul,
+Born but to banquet, and to drain the bowl.
+He, hot and careless, on a turret's height
+With sleep repair'd the long debauch of night:
+The sudden tumult stirred him where he lay,
+And down he hasten'd, but forgot the way;
+Full headlong from the roof the sleeper fell,
+And snapp'd the spinal joint, and waked in hell.
+
+"The rest crowd round me with an eager look;
+I met them with a sigh, and thus bespoke:
+'Already, friends! ye think your toils are o'er,
+Your hopes already touch your native shore:
+Alas! far otherwise the nymph declares,
+Far other journey first demands our cares;
+To tread the uncomfortable paths beneath,
+The dreary realms of darkness and of death;
+To seek Tiresias' awful shade below,
+And thence our fortunes and our fates to know.'
+
+"My sad companions heard in deep despair;
+Frantic they tore their manly growth of hair;
+To earth they fell: the tears began to rain;
+But tears in mortal miseries are vain,
+Sadly they fared along the sea-beat shore;
+Still heaved their hearts, and still their eyes ran o'er.
+The ready victims at our bark we found,
+The sable ewe and ram together bound.
+For swift as thought the goddess had been there,
+And thence had glided, viewless as the air:
+The paths of gods what mortal can survey?
+Who eyes their motion? who shall trace their way?"
+
+
+
+BOOK XI.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+THE DESCENT INTO HELL.
+
+Ulysses continues his narration. How he arrived at the land of the
+Cimmerians, and what ceremonies he performed to invoke the dead.
+The manner of his descent, and the apparition of the shades: his
+conversation with Elpenor, and with Tiresias, who informs him in a
+prophetic manner of his fortunes to come. He meets his mother
+Anticles, from whom he learns the state of his family. He sees the
+shades of the ancient heroines, afterwards of the heroes, and
+converses in particular with Agamemnon and Achilles. Ajax keeps at
+a sullen distance, and disdains to answer him. He then beholds
+Tityus, Tantalus, Sisyphus, Hercules; till he is deterred from
+further curiosity by the apparition of horrid spectres, and the
+cries of the wicked in torments.
+
+
+
+"Now to the shores we bend, a mournful train,
+Climb the tall bark, and launch into the main;
+At once the mast we rear, at once unbind
+The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind;
+Then pale and pensive stand, with cares oppress'd,
+And solemn horror saddens every breast.
+A freshening breeze the magic power supplied,
+While the wing'd vessel flew along the tide;
+Our oars we shipp'd; all day the swelling sails
+Full from the guiding pilot catch'd the gales.
+
+"Now sunk the sun from his aerial height,
+And o'er the shaded billows rush'd the night;
+When lo! we reach'd old Ocean's utmost bounds,
+Where rocks control his waves with ever-during mounds.
+
+"There in a lonely land, and gloomy cells,
+The dusky nation of Cimmeria dwells;
+The sun ne'er views the uncomfortable seats,
+When radiant he advances, or retreats:
+Unhappy race! whom endless night invades,
+Clouds the dull air, and wraps them round in shades.
+
+"The ship we moor on these obscure abodes;
+Disbark the sheep, an offering to the gods;
+And, hellward bending, o'er the beach descry
+The doleful passage to the infernal sky.
+The victims, vow'd to each Tartarian power,
+Eurylochus and Perimedes bore.
+
+"Here open'd hell, all hell I here implored,
+And from the scabbard drew the shining sword:
+And trenching the black earth on every side,
+A cavern form'd, a cubit long and wide.
+New wine, with honey-temper'd milk, we bring,
+Then living waters from the crystal spring:
+O'er these was strew'd the consecrated flour,
+And on the surface shone the holy store.
+
+"Now the wan shades we hail, the infernal gods,
+To speed our course, and waft us o'er the floods:
+So shall a barren heifer from the stall
+Beneath the knife upon your altars fall;
+So in our palace, at our safe return,
+Rich with unnumber'd gifts the pile shall burn;
+So shall a ram, the largest of the breed,
+Black as these regions, to Tiresias bleed.
+
+"Thus solemn rites and holy vows we paid
+To all the phantom-nations of the dead;
+Then died the sheep: a purple torrent flow'd,
+And all the caverns smoked with streaming blood.
+When lo! appear'd along the dusky coasts,
+Thin, airy shoals of visionary ghosts:
+Fair, pensive youths, and soft enamour'd maids;
+And wither'd elders, pale and wrinkled shades;
+Ghastly with wounds the forms of warriors slain
+Stalk'd with majestic port, a martial train:
+These and a thousand more swarm'd o'er the ground,
+And all the dire assembly shriek'd around.
+Astonish'd at the sight, aghast I stood,
+And a cold fear ran shivering through my blood;
+Straight I command the sacrifice to haste,
+Straight the flay'd victims to the flames are cast,
+And mutter'd vows, and mystic song applied
+To grisly Pluto, and his gloomy bride.
+
+"Now swift I waved my falchion o'er the blood;
+Back started the pale throngs, and trembling stood,
+Round the black trench the gore untasted flows,
+Till awful from the shades Tiresias rose.
+
+"There wandering through the gloom I first survey'd,
+New to the realms of death, Elpenor's shade:
+His cold remains all naked to the sky
+On distant shores unwept, unburied lie.
+Sad at the sight I stand, deep fix'd in woe,
+And ere I spoke the tears began to flow.
+
+"'O say what angry power Elpenor led
+To glide in shades, and wander with the dead?
+How could thy soul, by realms and seas disjoin'd,
+Outfly the nimble sail, and leave the lagging wind?
+
+"The ghost replied: 'To hell my doom I owe,
+Demons accursed, dire ministers of woe!
+My feet, through wine unfaithful to their weight,
+Betray'd me tumbling from a towery height:
+Staggering I reel'd, and as I reel'd I fell,
+Lux'd the neck-joint--my soul descends to hell.
+But lend me aid, I now conjure thee lend,
+By the soft tie and sacred name of friend!
+By thy fond consort! by thy father's cares!
+By loved Telemachus' blooming years?
+For well I know that soon the heavenly powers
+Will give thee back to-day, and Circe's shores:
+There pious on my cold remains attend,
+There call to mind thy poor departed friend.
+The tribute of a tear is all I crave,
+And the possession of a peaceful grave.
+But if, unheard, in vain compassion plead,
+Revere the gods. The gods avenge the dead!
+A tomb along the watery margin raise,
+The tomb with manly arms and trophies grace,
+To show posterity Elpenor was.
+There high in air, memorial of my name,
+Fix the smooth oar, and bid me live to fame.'
+
+"To whom with tears: 'These rites, O mournful shade,
+Due to thy ghost, shall to thy ghost be paid.'
+
+"Still as I spoke the phantom seem'd to moan,
+Tear follow'd tear, and groan succeeded groan.
+But, as my waving sword the blood surrounds,
+The shade withdrew, and mutter'd empty sounds.
+
+"There as the wondrous visions I survey'd,
+All pale ascends my royal mother's shade:
+A queen, to Troy she saw our legions pass;
+Now a thin form is all Anticlea was!
+Struck at the sight I melt with filial woe,
+And down my cheek the pious sorrows flow,
+Yet as I shook my falchion o'er the blood,
+Regardless of her son the parent stood.
+
+"When lo! the mighty Theban I behold,
+To guide his steps he bore a staff of gold;
+Awful he trod; majestic was his look!
+And from his holy lips these accents broke:
+
+"'Why, mortal, wanderest thou from cheerful day,
+To tread the downward, melancholy way?
+What angry gods to these dark regions led
+Thee, yet alive, companion of the deed?
+But sheathe thy poniard, while my tongue relates
+Heaven's steadfast purpose, and thy future fates.'
+
+"While yet he spoke, the prophet I obey'd,
+And in the scabbard plunged the glittering blade:
+Eager he quaff'd the gore, and then express'd
+Dark things to come, the counsels of his breast.
+
+"Weary of light, Ulysses here explores
+A prosperous voyage to his native shores;
+But know--by me unerring Fates disclose
+New trains of dangers, and new scenes of woes.
+I see, I see, thy bark by Neptune toss'd,
+For injured Cyclops, and his eyeball lost!
+Yet to thy woes the gods decree an end,
+If Heaven thou please: and how to please attend
+Where on Trinacrian rocks the ocean roars,
+Graze numerous herds along the verdant shores;
+Though hunger press, yet fly the dangerous prey,
+The herds are sacred to the god of day,
+Who all surveys with his extensive eye,
+Above, below, on earth, and in the sky!
+Rob not the god; and so propitious gales
+Attend thy voyage, and impel thy sails:
+But, if his herds ye seize, beneath the waves
+I see thy friends o'erwhelm'd in liquid graves!
+The direful wreck Ulysses scarce survives!
+Ulysses at his country scarce arrives!
+Strangers thy guides! nor there thy labours end;
+New foes arise; domestic ills attend!
+There foul adulterers to thy bride resort,
+And lordly gluttons riot in thy court.
+But vengeance hastes amain! These eyes behold
+The deathful scene, princes on princes roll'd!
+That done, a people far from sea explore,
+Who ne'er knew salt, or heard the billows roar,
+Or saw gay vessel stem the watery plain,
+A painted wonder flying on the main!
+Bear on thy back an oar: with strange amaze
+A shepherd meeting thee, the oar surveys,
+And names a van: there fix it on the plain,
+To calm the god that holds the watery reign;
+A threefold offering to his altar bring,
+A bull, a ram, a boar; and hail the ocean king.
+But home return'd, to each ethereal power
+Slay the due victim in the genial hour:
+So peaceful shalt thou end thy blissful days,
+And steal thyself from life by slow decays:
+Unknown to pain, in age resign thy breath,
+When late stern Neptune points the shaft with death:
+To the dark grave retiring as to rest,
+Thy people blessing, by thy people bless'd!
+
+"Unerring truths, O man, my lips relate;
+This is thy life to come, and this is fate.'
+
+"To whom unmoved: 'If this the gods prepare,
+What Heaven ordains the wise with courage bear.
+But say, why yonder on the lonely strands,
+Unmindful of her son, Anticlea stands?
+Why to the ground she bends her downcast eye?
+Why is she silent, while her son is nigh?
+The latent cause, O sacred seer, reveal!'
+
+"'Nor this (replies the seer) will I conceal.
+Know, to the spectres that thy beverage taste,
+The scenes of life recur, and actions past:
+They, seal'd with truth, return the sure reply;
+The rest, repell'd, a train oblivious fly.'
+
+"The phantom-prophet ceased, and sunk from sight,
+To the black palace of eternal night.
+
+"Still in the dark abodes of death I stood,
+When near Anticlea moved, and drank the blood.
+Straight all the mother in her soul awakes,
+And, owning her Ulysses, thus she speaks;
+'Comest thou, my son, alive, to realms beneath,
+The dolesome realms of darkness and of death!
+Comest thou alive from pure, ethereal day?
+Dire is the region, dismal is the way!
+Here lakes profound, there floods oppose their waves,
+There the wide sea with all his billows raves!
+Or (since to dust proud Troy submits her towers)
+Comest thou a wanderer from the Phrygian shores?
+Or say, since honour call'd thee to the field,
+Hast thou thy Ithaca, thy bride, beheld?'
+
+"'Source of my life,' I cried, 'from earth I fly
+To seek Tiresias in the nether sky,
+To learn my doom; for, toss'd from woe to woe,
+In every land Ulysses finds a foe:
+Nor have these eyes beheld my native shores,
+Since in the dust proud Troy submits her towers.
+
+"'But, when thy soul from her sweet mansion fled,
+Say, what distemper gave thee to the dead?
+Has life's fair lamp declined by slow decays,
+Or swift expired it in a sudden blaze?
+Say, if my sire, good old Laertes, lives?
+If yet Telemachus, my son, survives?
+Say, by his rule is my dominion awed,
+Or crush'd by traitors with an iron rod?
+Say, if my spouse maintains her royal trust;
+Though tempted, chaste, and obstinately just?
+Or if no more her absent lord she wails,
+But the false woman o'er the wife prevails?'
+
+"Thus I, and thus the parent-shade returns:
+'Thee, ever thee, thy faithful consort mourns:
+Whether the night descends or day prevails,
+Thee she by night, and thee by day bewails.
+Thee in Telemachus thy realm obeys;
+In sacred groves celestial rites he pays,
+And shares the banquet in superior state,
+Graced with such honours as become the great
+Thy sire in solitude foments his care:
+The court is joyless, for thou art not there!
+No costly carpets raise his hoary head,
+No rich embroidery shines to grace his bed;
+Even when keen winter freezes in the skies,
+Rank'd with his slaves, on earth the monarch lies:
+Deep are his sighs, his visage pale, his dress
+The garb of woe and habit of distress.
+And when the autumn takes his annual round,
+The leafy honours scattering on the ground,
+Regardless of his years, abroad he lies,
+His bed the leaves, his canopy the skies.
+Thus cares on cares his painful days consume,
+And bow his age with sorrow to the tomb!
+
+"'For thee, my son, I wept my life away;
+For thee through hell's eternal dungeons stray:
+Nor came my fate by lingering pains and slow,
+Nor bent the silver-shafted queen her bow;
+No dire disease bereaved me of my breath;
+Thou, thou, my son, wert my disease and death;
+Unkindly with my love my son conspired,
+For thee I lived, for absent thee expired.'
+
+"Thrice in my arms I strove her shade to bind,
+Thrice through my arms she slipp'd like empty wind,
+Or dreams, the vain illusions of the mind.
+Wild with despair, I shed a copious tide
+Of flowing tears, and thus with sighs replied:
+
+"'Fliest thou, loved shade, while I thus fondly mourn!
+Turn to my arms, to my embraces turn!
+Is it, ye powers that smile at human harms!
+Too great a bliss to weep within her arms?
+Or has hell's queen an empty image sent,
+That wretched I might e'en my joys lament?'
+
+"'O son of woe,' the pensive shade rejoin'd;
+'O most inured to grief of all mankind!
+"'Tis not the queen of hell who thee deceives;
+All, all are such, when life the body leaves:
+No more the substance of the man remains,
+Nor bounds the blood along the purple veins:
+These the funereal flames in atoms bear,
+To wander with the wind in empty air:
+While the impassive soul reluctant flies,
+Like a vain dream, to these infernal skies.
+But from the dark dominions speed the way,
+And climb the steep ascent to upper day:
+To thy chaste bride the wondrous story tell,
+The woes, the horrors, and the laws of hell.'
+
+"Thus while she spoke, in swarms hell's empress brings
+Daughters and wives of heroes and of kings;
+Thick and more thick they gather round the blood,
+Ghost thronged on ghost (a dire assembly) stood!
+Dauntless my sword I seize: the airy crew,
+Swift as it flash'd along the gloom, withdrew;
+Then shade to shade in mutual forms succeeds,
+Her race recounts, and their illustrious deeds.
+
+"Tyro began, whom great Salmoneus bred;
+The royal partner of famed Cretheus' bed.
+For fair Enipeus, as from fruitful urns
+He pours his watery store, the virgin burns;
+Smooth flows the gentle stream with wanton pride,
+And in soft mazes rolls a silver tide.
+As on his banks the maid enamour'd roves,
+The monarch of the deep beholds and loves;
+In her Enipeus' form and borrow'd charms
+The amorous god descends into her arms:
+Around, a spacious arch of waves he throws,
+And high in air the liquid mountain rose;
+Thus in surrounding floods conceal'd, he proves
+The pleasing transport, and completes his loves.
+Then, softly sighing, he the fair address'd,
+And as he spoke her tender hand he press'd.
+'Hail, happy nymph! no vulgar births are owed
+To the prolific raptures of a god:
+Lo! when nine times the moon renews her horn,
+Two brother heroes shall from thee be born;
+Thy early care the future worthies claim,
+To point them to the arduous paths of fame;
+But in thy breast the important truth conceal,
+Nor dare the secret of a god reveal:
+For know, thou Neptune view'st! and at my nod
+Earth trembles, and the waves confess their god.'
+
+"He added not, but mounting spurn'd the plain,
+Then plunged into the chambers of the main,
+
+"Now in the time's full process forth she brings
+Jove's dread vicegerents in two future kings;
+O'er proud Iolcos Pelias stretch'd his reign,
+And godlike Neleus ruled the Pylian plain:
+Then, fruitful, to her Cretheus' royal bed
+She gallant Pheres and famed Aeson bred;
+From the same fountain Amythaon rose,
+Pleased with the din of scar; and noble shout of foes.
+
+"There moved Antiope, with haughty charms,
+Who bless'd the almighty Thunderer in her arms:
+Hence sprung Amphion, hence brave Zethus came,
+Founders of Thebes, and men of mighty name;
+Though bold in open field, they yet surround
+The town with walls, and mound inject on mound;
+Here ramparts stood, there towers rose high in air,
+And here through seven wide portals rush'd the war.
+
+"There with soft step the fair Alcmena trod,
+Who bore Alcides to the thundering god:
+And Megara, who charm'd the son of Jove,
+And soften'd his stern soul to tender love.
+
+"Sullen and sour, with discontented mien,
+Jocasta frown'd, the incestuous Theban queen;
+With her own son she join'd in nuptial bands,
+Though father's blood imbrued his murderous hands
+The gods and men the dire offence detest,
+The gods with all their furies rend his breast;
+In lofty Thebes he wore the imperial crown,
+A pompous wretch! accursed upon a throne.
+The wife self-murder'd from a beam depends,
+And her foul soul to blackest hell descends;
+Thence to her son the choicest plagues she brings,
+And the fiends haunt him with a thousand stings.
+
+"And now the beauteous Chloris I descry,
+A lovely shade, Amphion's youngest joy!
+With gifts unnumber'd Neleus sought her arms,
+Nor paid too dearly for unequall'd charms;
+Great in Orchomenos, in Pylos great,
+He sway'd the sceptre with imperial state.
+Three gallant sons the joyful monarch told,
+Sage Nestor, Periclimenus the bold,
+And Chromius last; but of the softer race,
+One nymph alone, a myracle of grace.
+Kings on their thrones for lovely Pero burn;
+The sire denies, and kings rejected mourn.
+To him alone the beauteous prize he yields,
+Whose arm should ravish from Phylacian fields
+The herds of Iphyclus, detain'd in wrong;
+Wild, furious herds, unconquerably strong!
+This dares a seer, but nought the seer prevails,
+In beauty's cause illustriously he fails;
+Twelve moons the foe the captive youth detains
+In painful dungeons, and coercive chains;
+The foe at last from durance where he lay,
+His heart revering, give him back to day;
+Won by prophetic knowledge, to fulfil
+The steadfast purpose of the Almighty will.
+
+"With graceful port advancing now I spied,
+Leda the fair, the godlike Tyndar's bride:
+Hence Pollux sprung, who wields the furious sway
+The deathful gauntlet, matchless in the fray;
+And Castor, glorious on the embattled plain,
+Curbs the proud steeds, reluctant to the rein:
+By turns they visit this ethereal sky,
+And live alternate, and alternate die:
+In hell beneath, on earth, in heaven above,
+Reign the twin-gods, the favourite sons of Jove.
+
+"There Ephimedia trod the gloomy plain,
+Who charm'd the monarch of the boundless main:
+Hence Ephialtes, hence stern Otus sprung,
+More fierce than giants, more than giants strong;
+The earth o'erburden'd groan'd beneath their weight,
+None but Orion e'er surpassed their height:
+The wondrous youths had scarce nine winters told,
+When high in air, tremendous to behold,
+Nine ells aloft they rear'd their towering head,
+And full nine cubits broad their shoulders spread.
+Proud of their strength, and more than mortal size,
+The gods they challenge, and affect the skies:
+Heaved on Olympus tottering Ossa stood;
+On Ossa, Pelion nods with all his wood.
+Such were they youths I had they to manhood grown
+Almighty Jove had trembled on his throne,
+But ere the harvest of the beard began
+To bristle on the chin, and promise man,
+His shafts Apollo aim'd; at once they sound,
+And stretch the giant monsters o'er the ground.
+
+"There mournful Phaedra with sad Procris moves,
+Both beauteous shades, both hapless in their loves;
+And near them walk'd with solemn pace and slow,
+Sad Adriadne, partner of their woe:
+The royal Minos Ariadne bred,
+She Theseus loved, from Crete with Theseus fled:
+Swift to the Dian isle the hero flies,
+And towards his Athens bears the lovely prize;
+There Bacchus with fierce rage Diana fires,
+The goddess aims her shaft, the nymph expires.
+
+"There Clymene and Mera I behold,
+There Eriphyle weeps, who loosely sold
+Her lord, her honour, for the lust of gold.
+But should I all recount, the night would fail,
+Unequal to the melancholy tale:
+And all-composing rest my nature craves,
+Here in the court, or yonder on the waves;
+In you I trust, and in the heavenly powers,
+To land Ulysses on his native shores."
+
+He ceased; but left so charming on their ear
+His voice, that listening still they seem'd to hear,
+Till, rising up, Arete silence broke,
+Stretch'd out her snowy hand, and thus she spoke:
+
+"What wondrous man heaven sends us in our guest;
+Through all his woes the hero shines confess'd;
+His comely port, his ample frame express
+A manly air, majestic in distress.
+He, as my guest, is my peculiar care:
+You share the pleasure, then in bounty share
+To worth in misery a reverence pay,
+And with a generous hand reward his stay;
+For since kind heaven with wealth our realm has bless'd,
+Give it to heaven by aiding the distress'd."
+
+Then sage Echeneus, whose grave reverend brow
+The hand of time had silvered o'er with snow,
+Mature in wisdom rose: "Your words (he cries)
+Demand obedience, for your words are wise.
+But let our king direct the glorious way
+To generous acts; our part is to obey."
+
+"While life informs these limbs (the king replied),
+Well to deserve, be all my cares employed:
+But here this night the royal guest detain,
+Till the sun flames along the ethereal plain.
+Be it my task to send with ample stores
+The stranger from our hospitable shores:
+Tread you my steps! 'Tis mine to lead the race,
+The first in glory, as the first in place."
+
+To whom the prince: "This night with joy I stay
+O monarch great in virtue as in sway!
+If thou the circling year my stay control,
+To raise a bounty noble as thy soul;
+The circling year I wait, with ampler stores
+And fitter pomp to hail my native shores:
+Then by my realms due homage would be paid;
+For wealthy kings are loyally obeyed!"
+
+"O king! for such thou art, and sure thy blood
+Through veins (he cried) of royal fathers flow'd:
+Unlike those vagrants who on falsehood live,
+Skill'd in smooth tales, and artful to deceive;
+Thy better soul abhors the liar's part,
+Wise is thy voice, and noble is thy heart.
+Thy words like music every breast control,
+Steal through the ear, and win upon the soul;
+soft, as some song divine, thy story flows,
+Nor better could the Muse record thy woes.
+
+"But say, upon the dark and dismal coast,
+Saw'st thou the worthies of the Grecian host?
+The godlike leaders who, in battle slain,
+Fell before Troy, and nobly press'd the plain?
+And lo! a length of night behind remains,
+The evening stars still mount the ethereal plains.
+Thy tale with raptures I could hear thee tell,
+Thy woes on earth, the wondrous scenes in hell,
+Till in the vault of heaven the stars decay.
+And the sky reddens with the rising day."
+
+"O worthy of the power the gods assign'd
+(Ulysses thus replies), a king in mind:
+Since yet the early hour of night allows
+Time for discourse, and time for soft repose,
+If scenes of misery can entertain,
+Woes I unfold, of woes a dismal train.
+Prepare to heir of murder and of blood;
+Of godlike heroes who uninjured stood
+Amidst a war of spears in foreign lands,
+Yet bled at home, and bled by female hands.
+
+"Now summon'd Proserpine to hell's black hall
+The heroine shades: they vanish'd at her call.
+When lo! advanced the forms of heroes slain
+By stern AEgysthus, a majestic train:
+And, high above the rest Atrides press'd the plain.
+He quaff'd the gore; and straight his soldier knew,
+And from his eyes pour'd down the tender dew:
+His arms he stretch'd; his arms the touch deceive,
+Nor in the fond embrace, embraces give:
+His substance vanish'd, and his strength decay'd,
+Now all Atrides is an empty shade.
+
+"Moved at the sight, I for a apace resign'd
+To soft affliction all my manly mind;
+At last with tears: 'O what relentless doom,
+Imperial phantom, bow'd thee to the tomb?
+Say while the sea, and while the tempest raves,
+Has Fate oppress'd thee in the roaring waves,
+Or nobly seized thee in the dire alarms
+Of war and slaughter, and the clash of arms?'
+
+"The ghost returns: 'O chief of human kind
+For active courage and a patient mind;
+Nor while the sea, nor while the tempest raves
+Has Fate oppress'd me on the roaring waves!
+Nor nobly seized me in the dire alarms
+Of war and slaughter, and the clash of arms
+Stabb'd by a murderous hand Atrides died,
+A foul adulterer, and a faithless bride;
+E'en in my mirth, and at the friendly feast,
+O'er the full bowl, the traitor stabb'd his guest;
+Thus by the gory arm of slaughter falls
+The stately ox, and bleeds within the stalls.
+But not with me the direful murder ends,
+These, these expired! their crime, they were my friends:
+Thick as the boars, which some luxurious lord
+Kills for the feast, to crown the nuptial board.
+When war has thunder'd with its loudest storms,
+Death thou hast seen in all her ghastly forms:
+In duel met her on the listed ground,
+When hand to hand they wound return for wound;
+But never have the eyes astonish'd view'd
+So vile a deed, so dire a scene of blood.
+E'en in the flow of joy, when now the bowl
+Glows in our veins, and opens every soul,
+We groan, we faint; with blood the doom is dyed.
+And o'er the pavement floats the dreadful tide--
+Her breast all gore, with lamentable cries,
+The bleeding innocent Cassandra dies!
+Then though pale death froze cold in every vein,
+My sword I strive to wield, but strive in vain;
+Nor did my traitress wife these eyelids close,
+Or decently in death my limbs compose.
+O woman, woman, when to ill thy mind
+Is bent, all hell contains no fouler fiend:
+And such was mine! who basely plunged her sword
+Through the fond bosom where she reign'd adored!
+Alas! I hoped the toils of war o'ercome,
+To meet soft quiet and repose at home;
+Delusive hope! O wife, thy deeds disgrace
+The perjured sex, and blacken all the race;
+And should posterity one virtuous find,
+Name Clytemnestra, they will curse the kind.'
+
+"Oh injured shade (I cried) what mighty woes
+To thy imperial race from woman rose!
+By woman here thou tread'st this mournful strand,
+And Greece by woman lies a desert land.'
+
+"'Warn'd by my ills beware, (the shade replies,)
+Nor trust the sex that is so rarely wise;
+When earnest to explore thy secret breast,
+Unfold some trifle, but conceal the rest.
+But in thy consort cease to fear a foe,
+For thee she feels sincerity of woe;
+When Troy first bled beneath the Grecian arms,
+She shone unrivall'd with a blaze of charms;
+Thy infant son her fragrant bosom press'd,
+Hung at her knee, or wanton'd at her breast;
+But now the years a numerous train have ran;
+The blooming boy is ripen'd into man;
+Thy eyes shall see him burn with noble fire,
+The sire shall bless his son, the son his sire;
+But my Orestes never met these eyes,
+Without one look the murder'd father dies;
+Then from a wretched friend this wisdom learn,
+E'en to thy queen disguised, unknown, return;
+For since of womankind so few are just,
+Think all are false, nor e'en the faithful trust.
+
+"'But, say, resides my son in royal port,
+In rich Orchomenos, or Sparta's court?
+Or say in Pyle? for yet he views the light,
+Nor glides a phantom through the realms of night.'
+
+"Then I: 'Thy suit is vain, nor can I say
+If yet he breathes in realms of cheerful day;
+Or pale or wan beholds these nether skies;
+Truth I revere; for wisdom never lies.'
+
+"Thus in a tide of tears our sorrows flow,
+And add new horror to the realms of woe;
+Till side by side along the dreary coast
+Advanced Achilles' and Patroclus' ghost,
+A friendly pair! near these the Pylian stray'd,
+And towering Ajax, an illustrious shade!
+War was his joy, and pleased with loud alarms,
+None but Pelides brighter shone in arms.
+
+"Through the thick gloom his friend Achilles knew,
+And as he speaks the tears descend in dew.
+
+"'Comest thou alive to view the Stygian bounds,
+Where the wan spectres walk eternal rounds;
+Nor fear'st the dark and dismal waste to tread,
+Throng'd with pale ghosts, familiar with the dead?'
+
+"To whom with sighs: 'I pass these dreadful gates
+To seek the Theban, and consult the Fates;
+For still, distress'd, I rove from coast to coast,
+Lost to my friends, and to my country lost.
+But sure the eye of Time beholds no name
+So bless'd as thine in all the rolls of fame;
+Alive we hail'd thee with our guardian gods,
+And dead thou rulest a king in these abodes.'
+
+"'Talk not of ruling in this dolorous gloom,
+Nor think vain words (he cried) can ease my doom.
+Rather I'd choose laboriously to bear
+A weight of woes, and breathe the vital air,
+A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread,
+Than reign the sceptred monarch of the dead.
+But say, if in my steps my son proceeds,
+And emulates his godlike father's deeds?
+If at the clash of arms, and shout of foes,
+Swells his bold heart, his bosom nobly glows?
+Say if my sire, the reverend Peleus, reigns,
+Great in his Phthia, and his throne maintains;
+Or, weak and old, my youthful arm demands,
+To fix the sceptre steadfast in his hands?
+O might the lamp of life rekindled burn,
+And death release me from the silent urn!
+This arm, that thunder'd o'er the Phrygian plain,
+And swell'd the ground with mountains of the slain,
+Should vindicate my injured father's fame,
+Crush the proud rebel, and assert his claim.'
+
+"'Illustrious shade (I cried), of Peleus' fates
+No circumstance the voice of Fame relates:
+But hear with pleased attention the renown,
+The wars and wisdom of thy gallant son.
+With me from Scyros to the field of fame
+Radiant in arms the blooming hero came.
+When Greece assembled all her hundred states,
+To ripen counsels, and decide debates,
+Heavens! how he charm'd us with a flow of sense,
+And won the heart with manly eloquence!
+He first was seen of all the peers to rise,
+The third in wisdom, where they all were wise!
+But when, to try the fortune of the day,
+Host moved toward host in terrible array,
+Before the van, impatient for the fight,
+With martial port he strode, and stern delight:
+Heaps strew'd on heaps beneath his falchion groan'd,
+And monuments of dead deform'd the ground.
+The time would fail should I in order tell
+What foes were vanquish'd, and what numbers fell:
+How, lost through love, Eurypylus was slain,
+And round him bled his bold Cetaean train.
+To Troy no hero came of nobler line,
+Or if of nobler, Memnon, it was thine.
+
+"When Ilion in the horse received her doom,
+And unseen armies ambush'd in its womb,
+Greece gave her latent warriors to my care,
+'Twas mine on Troy to pour the imprison'd war:
+Then when the boldest bosom beat with fear,
+When the stern eyes of heroes dropp'd a tear,
+Fierce in his look his ardent valour glow'd,
+Flush'd in his cheek, or sallied in his blood;
+Indignant in the dark recess he stands,
+Pants for the battle, and the war demands:
+His voice breathed death, and with a martial air
+He grasp'd his sword, and shook his glittering spear.
+And when the gods our arms with conquest crown'd,
+When Troy's proud bulwarks smoked upon the ground,
+Greece, to reward her soldier's gallant toils,
+Heap'd high his navy with unnumber'd spoils.
+
+"Thus great in glory, from the din of war
+Safe he return'd, without one hostile scar;
+Though spears in iron tempests rain'd around,
+Yet innocent they play'd, and guiltless of a wound.'
+
+"While yet I spoke, the shade with transport glow'd,
+Rose in his majesty, and nobler trod;
+With haughty stalk he sought the distant glades
+Of warrior kings, and join'd the illustrious shades.
+
+"Now without number ghost by ghost arose,
+All wailing with unutterable woes.
+Alone, apart, in discontented mood,
+A gloomy shade the sullen Ajax stood;
+For ever sad, with proud disdain he pined,
+And the lost arms for ever stung his mind;
+Though to the contest Thetis gave the laws,
+And Pallas, by the Trojans, judged the cause.
+O why was I victorious in the strife?
+O dear bought honour with so brave a life!
+With him the strength of war, the soldier's pride,
+Our second hope to great Achilles, died!
+Touch'd at the sight from tears I scarce refrain,
+And tender sorrow thrills in every vein;
+Pensive and sad I stand, at length accost
+With accents mild the inexorable ghost:
+'Still burns thy rage? and can brave souls resent
+E'en after death? Relent, great shade, relent!
+Perish those arms which by the gods' decree
+Accursed our army with the loss of thee!
+With thee we fall; Greece wept thy hapless fates,
+And shook astonish'd through her hundred states;
+Not more, when great Achilles press'd the ground,
+And breathed his manly spirit through the wound.
+O deem thy fall not owed to man's decree,
+Jove hated Greece, and punish'd Greece in thee!
+Turn then; oh peaceful turn, thy wrath control,
+And calm the raging tempest of thy soul.'
+
+"While yet I speak, the shade disdains to stay,
+In silence turns, and sullen stalks away.
+
+"Touch'd at his sour retreat, through deepest night,
+Through hell's black bounds I had pursued his flight,
+And forced the stubborn spectre to reply;
+But wondrous visions drew my curious eye.
+High on a throne, tremendous to behold,
+Stern Minos waves a mace of burnish'd gold;
+Around ten thousand thousand spectres stand
+Through the wide dome of Dis, a trembling band
+Still as they plead, the fatal lots he rolls,
+Absolves the just, and dooms the guilty souls.
+
+"The huge Orion, of portentous size,
+Swift through the gloom a giant-hunter flies:
+A ponderous mace of brass with direful sway
+Aloft he whirls, to crush the savage prey!
+Stern beasts in trains that by his truncheon fell,
+Now grisly forms, shoot o'er the lawns of hell.
+
+"There Tityus large and long, in fetters bound,
+O'erspreads nine acres of infernal ground;
+Two ravenous vultures, furious for their food,
+Scream o'er the fiend, and riot in his blood,
+Incessant gore the liver in his breast,
+The immortal liver grows, and gives the immortal feast.
+For as o'er Panope's enamell'd plains
+Latona journey'd to the Pythian fanes,
+With haughty love the audacious monster strove
+To force the goddess, and to rival Jove.
+
+"There Tantalus along the Stygian bounds
+Pours out deep groans (with groans all hell resounds);
+E'en in the circling floods refreshment craves,
+And pines with thirst amidst a sea of waves;
+When to the water he his lip applies,
+Back from his lip the treacherous water flies.
+Above, beneath, around his hapless head,
+Trees of all kinds delicious fruitage spread;
+There figs, sky-dyed, a purple hue disclose,
+Green looks the olive, the pomegranate glows.
+There dangling pears exalting scents unfold.
+And yellow apples ripen into gold;
+The fruit he strives to seize; but blasts arise,
+Toss it on high, and whirl it to the skies.
+
+"I turn'd my eye, and as I turn'd survey'd
+A mournful vision! the Sisyphian shade;
+With many a weary step, and many a groan,
+Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone;
+The huge round stone, resulting with a bound,
+Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground.
+Again the restless orb his toil renews,
+Dust mounts in clouds, and sweat descends in dews.
+
+"Now I the strength of Hercules behold,
+A towering spectre of gigantic mould,
+A shadowy form! for high in heaven's abodes
+Himself resides, a god among the gods;
+There in the bright assemblies of the skies.
+He nectar quaffs, and Hebe crowns his joys.
+Here hovering ghosts, like fowl, his shade surround,
+And clang their pinions with terrific sound;
+Gloomy as night he stands, in act to throw
+The aerial arrow from the twanging bow.
+Around his breast a wondrous zone is roll'd,
+Where woodland monsters grin in fretted gold;
+There sullen lions sternly seem to roar,
+The bear to growl to foam the tusky boar;
+There war and havoc and destruction stood,
+And vengeful murder red with human blood.
+Thus terribly adorned the figures shine,
+Inimitably wrought with skill divine.
+The mighty good advanced with awful look,
+And, turning his grim visage, sternly spoke:
+
+"'O exercise in grief! by arts refined;
+O taught to bear the wrongs of base mankind!
+Such, such was I! Still toss'd from care to care,
+While in your world I drew the vital air!
+E'en I, who from the Lord of Thunders rose,
+Bore toils and dangers, and a weight of woes;
+To a base monarch still a slave confined,
+(The hardest bondage to a generous mind!)
+Down to these worlds I trod the dismal way,
+And dragg'd the three-mouth'd dog to upper day
+E'en hell I conquer'd, through the friendly aid
+Of Maia's offspring, and the martial maid.
+
+"Thus he, nor deign'd for our reply to stay,
+But, turning, stalk'd with giant-strides away.
+
+"Curious to view the kings of ancient days,
+The mighty dead that live in endless praise,
+Resolved I stand; and haply had survey'd
+The godlike Theseus, and Pirithous' shade;
+But swarms of spectres rose from deepest hell,
+With bloodless visage, and with hideous yell.
+They scream, they shriek; and groans and dismal sounds
+Stun my scared ears, and pierce hell's utmost bounds.
+No more my heart the dismal din sustains,
+And my cold blood hangs shivering in my veins;
+Lest Gorgon, rising from the infernal lakes,
+With horrors arm'd, and curls of hissing snakes,
+Should fix me stiffen'd at the monstrous sight,
+A stony image, in eternal night!
+Straight from the direful coast to purer air
+I speed my flight, and to my mates repair.
+My mates ascend the ship; they strike their oars;
+The mountains lessen, and retreat the shores;
+Swift o'er the waves we fly; the freshening gales
+Sing through the shrouds, and stretch the swelling sails."
+
+
+
+BOOK XII
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+THE SIRENE, SCYLLA, AND CHARYBDIS.
+
+He relates how, after his return from the shades, he was sent by
+Circe on his voyage, by the coast of the Sirens, and by the strait
+of Scylla and Charybdis: the manner in which he escaped those
+dangers: how, being cast on the island Trinacria, his companions
+destroyed the oxen of the Sun: the vengeance that followed; how
+all perished by shipwreck except himself, who, swimming on the
+mast of the ship, arrived on the island of Calypso. With which his
+narration concludes.
+
+
+
+"Thus o'er the rolling surge the vessel flies,
+Till from the waves the AEaean hills arise.
+Here the gay Morn resides in radiant bowers,
+Here keeps here revels with the dancing Hours;
+Here Phoebus, rising in the ethereal way,
+Through heaven's bright portals pours the beamy day.
+At once we fix our halsers on the land.
+At once descend, and press the desert sand:
+There, worn and wasted, lose our cares in sleep,
+To the hoarse murmurs of the rolling deep.
+
+"Soon as the morn restored the day, we paid
+Sepulchral honours to Elpenor's shade.
+Now by the axe the rushing forest bends,
+And the huge pile along the shore ascends.
+Around we stand, a melancholy train,
+And a loud groan re-echoes from the main.
+Fierce o'er the pyre, by fanning breezes spread,
+The hungry flames devour the silent dead.
+A rising tomb, the silent dead to grace,
+Fast by the roarings of the main we place;
+The rising tomb a lofty column bore,
+And high above it rose the tapering oar.
+
+"Meantime the goddess our return survey'd
+From the pale ghosts and hell's tremendous shade.
+Swift she descends: a train of nymphs divine
+Bear the rich viands and the generous wine:
+In act to speak the power of magic stands,
+And graceful thus accosts the listening bands;
+
+"'O sons of woe? decreed by adverse fates
+Alive to pass through hell's eternal gates!
+All, soon or late, are doom'd that path to tread;
+More wretched you! twice number'd with the dead!
+This day adjourn your cares, exalt your souls,
+Indulge the taste, and drain the sparkling bowls;
+And when the morn unveils her saffron ray,
+Spread your broad sails, and plough the liquid way:
+Lo, I this night, your faithful guide, explain
+Your woes by land, your dangers on the main.'
+
+"The goddess spoke. In feasts we waste the day,
+Till Phoebus downward plunged his burning ray;
+Then sable night ascends, and balmy rest
+Seals every eye, and calms the troubled breast.
+Then curious she commands me to relate
+The dreadful scenes of Pluto's dreary state.
+She sat in silence while the tale I tell,
+The wondrous visions and the laws of hell.
+
+"Then thus: 'The lot of man the gods dispose;
+These ills are past: now hear thy future woes
+O prince attend; some favouring power be kind,
+And print the important story on thy mind!
+
+"'Next, where the Sirens dwells, you plough the seas;
+Their song is death, and makes destruction please.
+Unblest the man, whom music wins to stay
+Nigh the cursed shore and listen to the lay.
+No more that wretch shall view the joys of life
+His blooming offspring, or his beauteous wife!
+In verdant meads they sport; and wide around
+Lie human bones that whiten all the ground:
+The ground polluted floats with human gore,
+And human carnage taints the dreadful shore
+Fly swift the dangerous coast: let every ear
+Be stopp'd against the song! 'tis death to hear!
+Firm to the mast with chains thyself be bound,
+Nor trust thy virtue to the enchanting sound.
+If, mad with transport, freedom thou demand,
+Be every fetter strain'd, and added band to band.
+
+"'These seas o'erpass'd, be wise! but I refrain
+To mark distinct thy voyage o'er the main:
+New horrors rise! let prudence be thy guide,
+And guard thy various passage through the tide.
+
+"'High o'er the main two rocks exalt their brow,'
+The boiling billows thundering roll below;
+Through the vast waves the dreadful wonders move,
+Hence named Erratic by the gods above.
+No bird of air, no dove of swiftest wing,
+That bears ambrosia to the ethereal king,
+Shuns the dire rocks: in vain she cuts the skies;
+The dire rocks meet, and crush her as she flies:
+Not the fleet bark, when prosperous breezes play,
+Ploughs o'er that roaring surge its desperate way;
+O'erwhelm'd it sinks: while round a smoke expires,
+And the waves flashing seem to burn with fires.
+Scarce the famed Argo pass'd these raging floods,
+The sacred Argo, fill'd with demigods!
+E'en she had sunk, but Jove's imperial bride
+Wing'd her fleet sail, and push'd her o'er the tide.
+
+"'High in the air the rock its summit shrouds
+In brooding tempests, and in rolling clouds;
+Loud storms around, and mists eternal rise,
+Beat its bleak brow, and intercept the skies.
+When all the broad expansion, bright with day,
+Glows with the autumnal or the summer ray,
+The summer and the autumn glow in vain,
+The sky for ever lowers, for ever clouds remain.
+Impervious to the step of man it stands,
+Though borne by twenty feet, though arm'd with twenty hands;
+Smooth as the polish of the mirror rise
+The slippery sides, and shoot into the skies.
+Full in the centre of this rock display'd,
+A yawning cavern casts a dreadful shade:
+Nor the fleet arrow from the twanging bow,
+Sent with full force, could reach the depth below.
+Wide to the west the horrid gulf extends,
+And the dire passage down to hell descends.
+O fly the dreadful sight! expand thy sails,
+Ply the strong oar, and catch the nimble gales;
+Here Scylla bellows from the dire abodes,
+Tremendous pest, abhorr'd by man and gods!
+Hideous her voice, and with less terrors roar
+The whelps of lions in the midnight hour.
+Twelve feet, deform'd and foul, the fiend dispreads;
+Six horrid necks she rears, and six terrific heads;
+Her jaws grin dreadful with three rows of teeth;
+Jaggy they stand, the gaping den of death;
+Her parts obscene the raging billows hide;
+Her bosom terribly o'erlooks the tide.
+When stung with hunger she embroils the flood,
+The sea-dog and the dolphin are her food;
+She makes the huge leviathan her prey,
+And all the monsters of the watery way;
+The swiftest racer of the azure plain
+Here fills her sails, and spreads her oars in vain;
+Fell Scylla rises, in her fury roars,
+At once six mouths expands, at once six men devours.
+
+"'Close by, a rock of less enormous height
+Breaks the wild waves, and forms a dangerous strait;
+Full on its crown a fig's green branches rise,
+And shoot a leafy forest to the skies;
+Beneath, Charybdis holds her boisterous reign
+'Midst roaring whirlpools, and absorbs the main;
+Thrice in her gulfs the boiling seas subside,
+Thrice in dire thunders she refunds the tide.
+Oh, if thy vessel plough the direful waves,
+When seas retreating roar within her caves,
+Ye perish all! though he who rules the main
+Lends his strong aid, his aid he lends in vain.
+Ah, shun the horrid gulf! by Scylla fly.
+'Tis better six to lose, than all to die.'
+
+"I then: 'O nymph propitious to my prayer,
+Goddess divine, my guardian power, declare,
+Is the foul fiend from human vengeance freed?
+Or, if I rise in arms, can Scylla bleed?'
+
+"Then she: 'O worn by toils, O broke in fight,
+Still are new toils and war thy dire delight?
+Will martial flames for ever fire thy mind,
+And never, never be to Heaven resign'd?
+How vain thy efforts to avenge the wrong!
+Deathless the pest! impenetrably strong!
+Furious and fell, tremendous to behold!
+E'en with a look she withers all the bold!
+She mocks the weak attempts of human might;
+Oh, fly her rage! thy conquest is thy flight.
+If but to seize thy arms thou make delay,
+Again thy fury vindicates her prey;
+Her six mouths yawn, and six are snatch'd away.
+From her foul wound Crataeis gave to air
+This dreadful pest! To her direct thy prayer,
+To curb the monster in her dire abodes,
+And guard thee through the tumult of the floods.
+Thence to Trinacria's shore you bend your way,
+Where graze thy herds, illustrious source of day!
+Seven herds, seven flocks enrich the sacred plains,
+Each herd, each flock full fifty heads contains;
+The wondrous kind a length of age survey,
+By breed increase not, nor by death decay.
+Two sister goddesses possess the plain,
+The constant guardian of the woolly train;
+Lampetie fair, and Phaethusa young,
+From Phoebus and the bright Neaea sprung;
+Here, watchful o'er the flocks, in shady bowers
+And flowery meads, they waste the joyous hours.
+Rob not the gods! and so propitious gales
+Attend thy voyage, and impel thy sails;
+But if thy impious hands the flocks destroy,
+The gods, the gods avenge it, and ye die!
+'Tis thine alone (thy friends and navy lost)
+Through tedious toils to view thy native coast.'
+
+She ceased: and now arose the morning ray;
+Swift to her dome the goddess held her way.
+Then to my mates I measured back the plain,
+Climb'd the tall bark, and rush'd into the main;
+Then, bending to the stroke, their oars they drew
+To their broad breasts, and swift the galley flew.
+Up sprung a brisker breeze; with freshening gales
+The friendly goddess stretch'd the swelling sails;
+We drop our oars; at ease the pilot guides;
+The vessel light along the level glides.
+When, rising sad and slow, with pensive look,
+Thus to the melancholy train I spoke:
+
+"'O friends, oh ever partners of my woes,
+Attend while I what Heaven foredooms disclose.
+Hear all! Fate hangs o'er all; on you it lies
+To live or perish! to be safe, be wise!
+
+"'In flowery meads the sportive Sirens play,
+Touch the soft lyre, and tune the vocal lay;
+Me, me alone, with fetters firmly bound,
+The gods allow to hear the dangerous sound.
+Hear and obey; if freedom I demand,
+Be every fetter strain'd, be added band to band.'
+
+"While yet I speak the winged galley flies,
+And lo! the Siren shores like mists arise.
+Sunk were at once the winds; the air above,
+And waves below, at once forgot to move;
+Some demon calm'd the air and smooth'd the deep,
+Hush'd the loud winds, and charm'd the waves to sleep.
+Now every sail we furl, each oar we ply;
+Lash'd by the stroke, the frothy waters fly.
+The ductile wax with busy hands I mould,
+And cleft in fragments, and the fragments roll'd;
+The aerial region now grew warm with day,
+The wax dissolved beneath the burning ray;
+Then every ear I barr'd against the strain,
+And from access of frenzy lock'd the brain.
+Now round the masts my mates the fetters roll'd,
+And bound me limb by limb with fold on fold.
+Then bending to the stroke, the active train
+Plunge all at once their oars, and cleave the main.
+
+"While to the shore the rapid vessel flies,
+Our swift approach the Siren choir descries;
+Celestial music warbles from their tongue,
+And thus the sweet deluders tune the song:
+
+"'Oh stay, O pride of Greece! Ulysses, stay!
+Oh cease thy course, and listen to our lay!
+Blest is the man ordain'd our voice to hear,
+The song instructs the soul, and charms the ear.
+Approach! thy soul shall into raptures rise!
+Approach! and learn new wisdom from the wise!
+We know whate'er the kings of mighty name
+Achieved at Ilion in the field of fame;
+Whate'er beneath the sun's bright journey lies.
+Oh stay, and learn new wisdom from the wise!'
+
+"Thus the sweet charmers warbled o'er the main;
+My soul takes wing to meet the heavenly strain;
+I give the sign, and struggle to be free;
+Swift row my mates, and shoot along the sea;
+New chains they add, and rapid urge the way,
+Till, dying off, the distant sounds decay;
+Then scudding swiftly from the dangerous ground,
+The deafen'd ear unlock'd, the chains unbound.
+
+"Now all at once tremendous scenes unfold;
+Thunder'd the deeps, the smoky billows roll'd!
+Tumultuous waves embroil the bellowing flood,
+All trembling, deafen'd, and aghast we stood!
+No more the vessel plough'd the dreadful wave,
+Fear seized the mighty, and unnerved the brave;
+Each dropp'd his oar; but swift from man to man
+With looks serene I turn'd, and thus began:
+'O friends! O often tried in adverse storms!
+With ills familiar in more dreadful forms!
+Deep in the dire Cyclopean den you lay,
+Yet safe return'd--Ulysses led the way.
+Learn courage hence, and in my care confide;
+Lo! still the same Ulysses is your guide.
+Attend my words! your oars incessant ply;
+Strain every nerve, and bid the vessel fly.
+If from yon jostling rocks and wavy war
+Jove safety grants, he grants it to your care.
+And thou, whose guiding hand directs our way,
+Pilot, attentive listen and obey!
+Bear wide thy course, nor plough those angry waves
+Where rolls yon smoke, yon tumbling ocean raves;
+Steer by the higher rock; lest whirl'd around
+We sink, beneath the circling eddy drown'd.'
+While yet I speak, at once their oars they seize,
+Stretch to the stroke, and brush the working seas.
+Cautious the name of Scylla I suppress'd;
+That dreadful sound had chill'd the boldest breast.
+
+"Meantime, forgetful of the voice divine,
+All dreadful bright my limbs in armour shine;
+High on the deck I take my dangerous stand,
+Two glittering javelins lighten in my hand;
+Prepared to whirl the whizzing spear I stay,
+Till the fell fiend arise to seize her prey.
+Around the dungeon, studious to behold
+The hideous pest, my labouring eyes I roll'd;
+In vain! the dismal dungeon, dark as night,
+Veils the dire monster, and confounds the sight.
+
+"Now through the rocks, appall'd with deep dismay,
+We bend our course, and stem the desperate way;
+Dire Scylla there a scene of horror forms,
+And here Charybdis fills the deep with storms.
+When the tide rushes from her rumbling caves,
+The rough rock roars, tumultuous boil the waves;
+They toss, they foam, a wild confusion raise,
+Like waters bubbling o'er the fiery blaze;
+Eternal mists obscure the aerial plain,
+And high above the rock she spouts the main;
+When in her gulfs the rushing sea subsides,
+She drains the ocean with the refluent tides;
+The rock re-bellows with a thundering sound;
+Deep, wondrous deep, below appears the ground.
+
+"Struck with despair, with trembling hearts we view'd
+The yawning dungeon, and the tumbling flood;
+When lo! fierce Scylla stoop'd to seize her prey,
+Stretch'd her dire jaws, and swept six men away.
+Chiefs of renown! loud-echoing shrieks arise;
+I turn, and view them quivering in the skies;
+They call, and aid with outstretch'd arms implore;
+In vain they call! those arms are stretch'd no more.
+As from some rock that overhangs the flood
+The silent fisher casts the insidious food,
+With fraudful care he waits the finny prize,
+And sudden lifts it quivering to the skies:
+So the foul monster lifts her prey on high,
+So pant the wretches struggling in the sky;
+In the wide dungeon she devours her food,
+And the flesh trembles while she churns the blood.
+Worn as I am with griefs, with care decay'd,
+Never, I never scene so dire survey'd!
+My shivering blood, congeal'd, forgot to flow;
+Aghast I stood, a monument of woe!
+
+"Now from the rocks the rapid vessel flies,
+And the hoarse din like distant thunder dies;
+To Sol's bright isle our voyage we pursue,
+And now the glittering mountains rise to view.
+There, sacred to the radiant god of day,
+Graze the fair herds, the flocks promiscuous stray:
+Then suddenly was heard along the main
+To low the ox, to blest the woolly train.
+Straight to my anxious thoughts the sound convey'd
+The words of Circe and the Theban shade;
+Warn'd by their awful voice these shores to shun,
+With cautious fears oppress'd I thus begun:
+
+"'O friends! O ever exorcised in care!
+Hear Heaven's commands, and reverence what ye hear!
+To fly these shores the prescient Theban shade
+And Circe warn! Oh be their voice obey'd
+Some mighty woe relentless Heaven forebodes:
+Fly these dire regions, and revere the gods!'
+
+"While yet I spoke, a sudden sorrow ran
+Through every breast, and spread from man to man,
+Till wrathful thus Eurylochus began:
+
+"'O cruel thou! some Fury sure has steel'd
+That stubborn soul, by toil untaught to yield!
+From sleep debarr'd, we sink from woes to woes:
+And cruel' enviest thou a short repose?
+Still must we restless rove, new seas explore,
+The sun descending, and so near the shore?
+And lo! the night begins her groomy reign,
+And doubles all the terrors of the main:
+Oft in the dead of night loud winds rise,
+Lash the wild surge, and bluster in the skies.
+Oh, should the fierce south-west his rage display,
+And toss with rising storms the watery way,
+Though gods descend from heaven's aerial plain
+To lend us aid, the gods descend in vain.
+Then while the night displays her awful shade,
+Sweet time of slumber! be the night obey'
+Haste ye to land! and when the morning ray
+Sheds her bright beam, pursue the destined way.'
+A sudden joy in every bosom rose:
+So will'd some demon, minister of woes!
+
+"To whom with grief: 'O swift to be undone!
+Constrain'd I act what wisdom bids me shun.
+But yonder herbs and yonder flocks forbear;
+Attest the heavens, and call the gods to hear:
+Content, an innocent repast display,
+By Circe given, and fly the dangerous prey.'
+
+'Thus I: and while to shore the vessel flies,
+With hands uplifted they attest the skies:
+Then, where a fountain's gurgling waters play,
+They rush to land, and end in feasts the day:
+They feed; they quaff; and now (their hunger fled)
+Sigh for their friends devour'd, and mourn the dead;
+Nor cease the tears' till each in slumber shares
+A sweet forgetfulness of human cares.
+Now far the night advanced her gloomy reign,
+And setting stars roll'd down the azure plain:
+When at the voice of Jove wild whirlwinds rise,
+And clouds and double darkness veil the skies;
+The moon, the stars, the bright ethereal host
+Seem as extinct, and all their splendours lost:
+The furious tempest roars with dreadful sound:
+Air thunders, rolls the ocean, groans the ground.
+All night it raged: when morning rose to land
+We haul'd our bark, and moor'd it on the strand,
+Where in a beauteous grotto's cool recess
+Dance the green Nerolds of the neighbouring seas.
+
+"There while the wild winds whistled o'er the main,
+Thus careful I address'd the listening train:
+
+"'O friends, be wise! nor dare the flocks destroy
+Of these fair pastures: if ye touch, ye die.
+Warn'd by the high command of Heaven, be awed:
+Holy the flocks, and dreadful is the god!
+That god who spreads the radiant beams of light,
+And views wide earth and heaven's unmeasured height.'
+
+"And now the moon had run her monthly round,
+The south-east blustering with a dreadful sound:
+Unhurt the beeves, untouch'd the woolly train,
+Low through the grove, or touch the flowery plain:
+Then fail'd our food: then fish we make our prey,
+Or fowl that screaming haunt the watery way.
+Till now from sea or flood no succour found,
+Famine and meagre want besieged us round.
+Pensive and pale from grove to grove I stray'd,
+From the loud storms to find a sylvan shade;
+There o'er my hands the living wave I pour;
+And Heaven and Heaven's immortal thrones implore,
+To calm the roarings of the stormy main,
+And guide me peaceful to my realms again.
+Then o'er my eyes the gods soft slumbers shed,
+While thus Eurylochus arising said:
+
+"'O friends, a thousand ways frail mortals lead
+To the cold tomb, and dreadful all to tread;
+But dreadful most, when by a slow decay
+Pale hunger wastes the manly strength away.
+Why cease ye then to implore the powers above,
+And offer hecatombs to thundering Jove?
+Why seize ye not yon beeves, and fleecy prey?
+Arise unanimous; arise and slay!
+And if the gods ordain a safe return,
+To Phoebus shrines shall rise, and altars burn.
+But should the powers that o'er mankind preside
+Decree to plunge us in the whelming tide,
+Better to rush at once to shades below
+Than linger life away, and nourish woe.'
+
+"Thus he: the beeves around securely stray,
+When swift to ruin they invade the prey;
+They seize, they kill!--but for the rite divine.
+The barley fail'd, and for libations wine.
+Swift from the oak they strip the shady pride;
+And verdant leaves the flowery cake supplied.
+
+"With prayer they now address the ethereal train,
+Slay the selected beeves, and flay the slain;
+The thighs, with fat involved, divide with art,
+Strew'd o'er with morsels cut from every part.
+Water, instead of wine, is brought in urns,
+And pour'd profanely as the victim burns.
+The thighs thus offer'd, and the entrails dress'd,
+They roast the fragments, and prepare the feast.
+
+"'Twas then soft slumber fled my troubled brain;
+Back to the bark I speed along the main.
+When lo! an odour from the feast exhales,
+Spreads o'er the coast and scents the tainted gales;
+A chilly fear congeal'd my vital blood,
+And thus, obtesting Heaven, I mourn'd aloud;
+
+"'O sire of men and gods, immortal Jove!
+O all ye blissful powers that reign above!
+Why were my cares beguiled in short repose?
+O fatal slumber, paid with lasting woes!
+A deed so dreadful all the gods alarms,
+Vengeance is on the wing, and Heaven in arms!'
+
+"Meantime Lampetie mounts the aerial way,
+And kindles into rage the god of day;
+
+"'Vengeance, ye powers (he cries), and then whose hand
+Aims the red bolt, and hurls the writhen brand!
+Slain are those herds which I with pride survey,
+When through the ports of heaven I pour the day,
+Or deep in ocean plunge the burning ray.
+Vengeance, ye gods! or I the skies forego,
+And bear the lamp of heaven to shades below.'
+
+"To whom the thundering Power: 'O source of day
+Whose radiant lamp adorns the azure way,
+Still may thy beams through heaven's bright portal rise,
+The joy of earth, the glory of the skies:
+Lo! my red arm I bare, my thunders guide,
+To dash the offenders in the whelming tide.'
+
+"To fair Calypso, from the bright abodes,
+Hermes convey'd these counsels of the gods.
+
+"Meantime from man to man my tongue exclaims,
+My wrath is kindled, and my soul in flames.
+In vain! I view perform'd the direful deed,
+Beeves, slain in heaps, along the ocean bleed.
+
+"Now heaven gave signs of wrath: along the ground
+Crept the raw hides, and with a bellowing sound
+Roar'd the dead limbs; the burning entrails groan'd.
+Six guilty days my wretched mates employ
+In impious feasting, and unhallowed joy;
+The seventh arose, and now the sire of gods
+Rein'd the rough storms; and calm'd the tossing floods:
+With speed the bark we climb; the spacious sails.
+Loosed from the yards invite the impelling gales.
+Past sight of shore, along the surge we bound,
+And all above is sky, and ocean all around;
+When lo! a murky cloud the thunderer forms
+Full o'er our heads, and blackens heaven with storms.
+Night dwells o'er all the deep: and now outflies
+The gloomy west, and whistles in the skies.
+The mountain-billows roar! the furious blast
+Howls o'er the shroud, and rends it from the mast:
+The mast gives way, and, crackling as it bends,
+Tears up the deck; then all at once descends:
+The pilot by the tumbling ruin slain,
+Dash'd from the helm, falls headlong in the main.
+Then Jove in anger bids his thunders roll,
+And forky lightnings flash from pole to pole:
+Fierce at our heads his deadly bolt he aims,
+Red with uncommon wrath, and wrapp'd in flames:
+Full on the bark it fell; now high, now low,
+Toss'd and retoss'd, it reel'd beneath the blow;
+At once into the main the crew it shook:
+Sulphurous odours rose, and smouldering smoke.
+Like fowl that haunt the floods, they sink, they rise,
+Now lost, now seen, with shrieks and dreadful cries;
+And strive to gain the bark, but Jove denies.
+Firm at the helm I stand, when fierce the main
+Rush'd with dire noise, and dash'd the sides in twain;
+Again impetuous drove the furious blast,
+Snapp'd the strong helm, and bore to sea the mast.
+Firm to the mast with cords the helm I bind,
+And ride aloft, to Providence resign'd,
+Through tumbling billows and a war of wind.
+"Now sunk the west, and now a southern breeze,
+More dreadful than the tempest lash'd the seas;
+For on the rocks it bore where Scylla raves,
+And dire Charybdis rolls her thundering waves.
+All night I drove; and at the dawn of day,
+Fast by the rocks beheld the desperate way;
+Just when the sea within her gulfs subsides,
+And in the roaring whirlpools rush the tides,
+Swift from the float I vaulted with a bound,
+The lofty fig-tree seized, and clung around;
+So to the beam the bat tenacious clings,
+And pendent round it clasps his leather wings.
+High in the air the tree its boughs display'd,
+And o'er the dungeon cast a dreadful shade;
+All unsustain'd between the wave and sky,
+Beneath my feet the whirling billows fly.
+What time the judge forsakes the noisy bar
+To take repast, and stills the wordy war,
+Charybdis, rumbling from her inmost caves,
+The mast refunded on her refluent waves.
+Swift from the tree, the floating mass to gain,
+Sudden I dropp'd amidst the flashing main;
+Once more undaunted on the ruin rode,
+And oar'd with labouring arms along the flood.
+Unseen I pass'd by Scylla's dire abodes.
+So Jove decreed (dread sire of men and gods).
+Then nine long days I plow'd the calmer seas,
+Heaved by the surge, and wafted by the breeze.
+Weary and wet the Ogygian shores I gain,
+When the tenth sun descended to the main.
+There, in Calypso's ever-fragrant bowers,
+Refresh'd I lay, and joy beguiled the hours.
+"My following fates to thee, O king, are known,
+And the bright partner of thy royal throne.
+Enough: in misery can words avail?
+And what so tedious as a twice-told tale?"
+
+
+
+BOOK XIII
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+THE ARRIVAL OF ULYSSES IN ITHACA.
+
+Ulysses takes his leave of Alcinous and Arete, and embarks in the
+evening. Next morning the ship arrives at Ithaca; where the
+sailors, as Ulysses is yet sleeping, lay him on the shore with all
+his treasures. On their return, Neptune changes their ship into a
+rock. In the meantime Ulysses, awaking, knows not his native
+Ithaca, by reason of a mist which Pallas had cast around him. He
+breaks into loud lamentations; till the goddess appearing to him
+in the form of a shepherd, discovers the country to him, and
+points out the particular places. He then tells a feigned story of
+his adventures, upon which she manifests herself, and they consult
+together of the measures to be taken to destroy the suitors. To
+conceal his return, and disguise his person the more effectually,
+she changes him into the figure of an old beggar.
+
+
+
+He ceased; but left so pleasing on their ear
+His voice, that listening still they seem'd to hear.
+A pause of silence hush'd the shady rooms:
+The grateful conference then the king resumes:
+
+"Whatever toils the great Ulysses pass'd,
+Beneath this happy roof they end at last;
+No longer now from shore to shore to roam,
+Smooth seas and gentle winds invite him home.
+But hear me, princes! whom these walls inclose,
+For whom my chanter sings: and goblet flows
+With wine unmix'd (an honour due to age,
+To cheer the grave, and warm the poet's rage);
+Though labour'd gold and many a dazzling vest
+Lie heap'd already for our godlike guest;
+Without new treasures let him not remove,
+Large, and expressive of the public love:
+Each peer a tripod, each a vase bestow,
+A general tribute, which the state shall owe."
+
+This sentence pleased: then all their steps address'd
+To separate mansions, and retired to rest.
+
+Now did the rosy-finger'd morn arise,
+And shed her sacred light along the skies.
+Down to the haven and the ships in haste
+They bore the treasures, and in safety placed.
+The king himself the vases ranged with care;
+Then bade his followers to the feast prepare.
+A victim ox beneath the sacred hand
+Of great Alcinous falls, and stains the sand.
+To Jove the Eternal (power above all powers!
+Who wings the winds, and darkens heaven with showers)
+The flames ascend: till evening they prolong
+The rites, more sacred made by heavenly song;
+For in the midst, with public honours graced,
+Thy lyre divine, Demodocus! was placed.
+All, but Ulysses, heard with fix'd delight;
+He sate, and eyed the sun, and wish'd the night;
+Slow seem'd the sun to move, the hours to roll,
+His native home deep-imaged in his soul.
+As the tired ploughman, spent with stubborn toil,
+Whose oxen long have torn the furrow'd soil,
+Sees with delight the sun's declining ray,
+When home with feeble knees he bends his way
+To late repast (the day's hard labour done);
+So to Ulysses welcome set the sun;
+Then instant to Alcinous and the rest
+(The Scherian states) he turn'd, and thus address'd:
+
+"O thou, the first in merit and command!
+And you the peers and princes of the land!
+May every joy be yours! nor this the least,
+When due libation shall have crown'd the feast,
+Safe to my home to send your happy guest.
+Complete are now the bounties you have given,
+Be all those bounties but confirm'd by Heaven!
+So may I find, when all my wanderings cease,
+My consort blameless, and my friends in peace.
+On you be every bliss; and every day,
+In home-felt joys, delighted roll away;
+Yourselves, your wives, your long-descending race,
+May every god enrich with every grace!
+Sure fix'd on virtue may your nation stand,
+And public evil never touch the land!"
+
+His words well weigh'd, the general voice approved
+Benign, and instant his dismission moved,
+The monarch to Pontonus gave the sign.
+To fill the goblet high with rosy wine;
+"Great Jove the Father first (he cried) implore;'
+Then send the stranger to his native shore."
+
+The luscious wine the obedient herald brought;
+Around the mansion flow'd the purple draught;
+Each from his seat to each immortal pours,
+Whom glory circles in the Olympian bowers
+Ulysses sole with air majestic stands,
+The bowl presenting to Arete's hands;
+Then thus: "O queen, farewell! be still possess'd
+Of dear remembrance, blessing still and bless'd!
+Till age and death shall gently call thee hence,
+(Sure fate of every mortal excellence!)
+Farewell! and joys successive ever spring
+To thee, to thine, the people, and the king!"
+
+Thus he: then parting prints the sandy shore
+To the fair port: a herald march'd before,
+Sent by Alcinous; of Arete's train
+Three chosen maids attend him to the main;
+This does a tunic and white vest convey,
+A various casket that, of rich inlay,
+And bread and wine the third. The cheerful mates
+Safe in the hollow poop dispose the cates;
+Upon the deck soft painted robes they spread
+With linen cover'd, for the hero's bed.
+He climbed the lofty stern; then gently press'd
+The swelling couch, and lay composed to rest.
+
+Now placed in order, the Phaeacian train
+Their cables loose, and launch into the main;
+At once they bend, and strike their equal oars,
+And leave the sinking hills and lessening shores.
+While on the deck the chief in silence lies,
+And pleasing slumbers steal upon his eyes.
+As fiery coursers in the rapid race
+Urged by fierce drivers through the dusty space,
+Toss their high heads, and scour along the plain,
+So mounts the bounding vessel o'er the main.
+Back to the stern the parted billows flow,
+And the black ocean foams and roars below.
+
+Thus with spread sails the winged galley flies;
+Less swift an eagle cuts the liquid skies;
+Divine Ulysses was her sacred load,
+A man, in wisdom equal to a god!
+Much danger, long and mighty toils he bore,
+In storms by sea, and combats on the shore;
+All which soft sleep now banish'd from his breast,
+Wrapp'd in a pleasing, deep, and death-like rest.
+
+But when the morning-star with early ray
+Flamed in the front of heaven, and promised day;
+Like distant clouds the mariner descries
+Fair Ithaca's emerging hills arise.
+Far from the town a spacious port appears,
+Sacred to Phorcys' power, whose name it bears;
+Two craggy rocks projecting to the main,
+The roaring wind's tempestuous rage restrain;
+Within the waves in softer murmurs glide,
+And ships secure without their halsers ride.
+High at the head a branching olive grows,
+And crowns the pointed cliffs with shady boughs.
+Beneath, a gloomy grotto's cool recess
+Delights the Nereids of the neighbouring seas,
+Where bowls and urns were form'd of living stone,
+And massy beams in native marble shone,
+On which the labours of the nymphs were roll'd,
+Their webs divine of purple mix'd with gold.
+Within the cave the clustering bees attend
+Their waxen works, or from the roof depend.
+Perpetual waters o'er the pavement glide;
+Two marble doors unfold on either side;
+Sacred the south, by which the gods descend;
+But mortals enter at the northern end.
+Thither they bent, and haul'd their ship to land
+(The crooked keel divides the yellow sand).
+Ulysses sleeping on his couch they bore,
+And gently placed him on the rocky shore.
+His treasures next, Alcinous' gifts, they laid
+In the wild olive's unfrequented shade,
+Secure from theft; then launch'd the bark again,
+Resumed their oars, and measured back the main,
+Nor yet forgot old Ocean's dread supreme,
+The vengeance vow'd for eyeless Polypheme.
+Before the throne of mighty Jove lie stood,
+And sought the secret counsels of the god.
+
+"Shall then no more, O sire of gods! be mine
+The rights and honours of a power divine?
+Scorn'd e'en by man, and (oh severe disgrace!)
+By soft Phaeacians, my degenerate race!
+Against yon destined head in vain I swore,
+And menaced vengeance, ere he reach'd his shore;
+To reach his natal shore was thy decree;
+Mild I obey'd, for who shall war with thee?
+Behold him landed, careless and asleep,
+From all the eluded dangers of the deep;
+Lo where he lies, amidst a shining store
+Of brass, rich garments, and refulgent ore;
+And bears triumphant to his native isle
+A prize more worth than Ilion's noble spoil."
+
+To whom the Father of the immortal powers,
+Who swells the clouds, and gladdens earth with showers,
+"Can mighty Neptune thus of man complain?
+Neptune, tremendous o'er the boundless main!
+Revered and awful e'en in heaven's abodes,
+Ancient and great! a god above the gods!
+If that low race offend thy power divine
+(Weak, daring creatures!) is not vengeance thine?
+Go, then, the guilty at thy will chastise."
+He said. The shaker of the earth replies:
+
+"This then, I doom: to fix the gallant ship,
+A mark of vengeance on the sable deep;
+To warn the thoughtless, self-confiding train,
+No more unlicensed thus to brave the main.
+Full in their port a Shady hill shall rise,
+If such thy will."--" We will it (Jove replies).
+E'en when with transport blackening all the strand,
+The swarming people hail their ship to land,
+Fix her for ever, a memorial stone:
+Still let her seem to sail, and seem alone.
+The trembling crowds shall see the sudden shade
+Of whelming mountains overhang their head!"
+
+With that the god whose earthquakes rock the ground
+Fierce to Phaeacia cross'd the vast profound.
+Swift as a swallow sweeps the liquid way,
+The winged pinnace shot along the sea.
+The god arrests her with a sudden stroke,
+And roots her down an everlasting rock.
+Aghast the Scherians stand in deep surprise;
+All press to speak, all question with their eyes.
+What hands unseen the rapid bark restrain!
+And yet it swims, or seems to swim, the main!
+Thus they, unconscious of the deed divine;
+Till great Alcinous, rising, own'd the sign.
+
+"Behold the long predestined day I (he cries;)
+O certain faith of ancient prophecies
+These ears have heard my royal sire disclose
+A dreadful story, big with future woes;
+How, moved with wrath, that careless we convey
+Promiscuous every guest to every bay,
+Stern Neptune raged; and how by his command
+Firm rooted in the surge a ship should stand
+(A monument of wrath); and mound on mound
+Should hide our walls, or whelm beneath the ground.
+
+"The Fates have follow'd as declared the seer.
+Be humbled, nations! and your monarch hear.
+No more unlicensed brave the deeps, no more
+With every stranger pass from shore to shore;
+On angry Neptune now for mercy call;
+To his high name let twelve black oxen fall.
+So may the god reverse his purposed will,
+Nor o'er our city hang the dreadful hill."
+
+The monarch spoke: they trembled and obey'd,
+Forth on the sands the victim oxen led;
+The gathered tribes before the altars stand,
+And chiefs and rulers, a majestic band.
+The king of ocean all the tribes implore;
+The blazing altars redden all the shore.
+
+Meanwhile Ulysses in his country lay,
+Released from sleep, and round him might survey
+The solitary shore and rolling sea.
+Yet had his mind through tedious absence lost
+The dear resemblance of his native coast;
+Besides, Minerva, to secure her care,
+Diffused around a veil of thickened air;
+For so the gods ordain'd to keep unseen
+His royal person from his friends and queen;
+Till the proud suitors for their crimes afford
+An ample vengeance to their injured lord.
+
+Now all the land another prospect bore,
+Another port appear'd, another shore.
+And long-continued ways, and winding floods,
+And unknown mountains, crown'd with unknown woods
+Pensive and slow, with sudden grief oppress'd,
+The king arose, and beat his careful breast,
+Cast a long look o'er all the coast and main,
+And sought, around, his native realm in vain;
+Then with erected eyes stood fix'd in woe,
+And as he spoke, the tears began to flow.
+
+"Ye gods (he cried), upon what barren coast,
+In what new region, is Ulysses toss'd?
+Possess'd by wild barbarians, fierce in arms?
+Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?
+Where shall this treasure now in safely be?
+And whither, whither its sad owner fly?
+Ah, why did I Alcinous' grace implore?
+Ah, why forsake Phaeacia's happy shore?
+Some juster prince perhaps had entertain'd,
+And safe restored me to my native land.
+Is this the promised, long-expected coast,
+And this the faith Phaeacia's rulers boast?
+O righteous gods! of all the great, how few
+Are just to Heaven, and to their promise true!
+But he, the power to whose all-seeing eyes
+The deeds of men appear without disguise,
+'Tis his alone to avenge the wrongs I bear;
+For still the oppress'd are his peculiar care.
+To count these presents, and from thence to prove,
+Their faith is mine; the rest belongs to Jove."
+
+Then on the sands he ranged his wealthy store,
+The gold, the vests, the tripods number'd o'er:
+All these he found, but still in error lost,
+Disconsolate he wanders on the coast,
+Sighs for his country, and laments again
+To the deaf rocks, and hoarse-resounding main.
+When lo! the guardian goddess of the wise,
+Celestial Pallas, stood before his eyes;
+In show a youthful swain, of form divine,
+Who seem'd descended from some princely line.
+A graceful robe her slender body dress'd;
+Around her shoulders flew the waving vest;
+Her decent hand a shining javelin bore,
+And painted sandals on her feet she wore.
+To whom the king: "Whoe'er of human race
+Thou art, that wanderest in this desert place,
+With joy to thee, as to some god I bend,
+To thee my treasures and myself commend.
+O tell a wretch in exile doom'd to stray,
+What air I breathe, what country I survey?
+The fruitful continent's extremest bound,
+Or some fair isle which Neptune's arms surround?
+
+"From what far clime (said she) remote from fame
+Arrivest thou here, a stranger to our name?
+Thou seest an island, not to those unknown
+Whose hills are brighten'd by the rising sun,
+Nor those that placed beneath his utmost reign
+Behold him sinking in the western main.
+The rugged soil allows no level space
+For flying chariots, or the rapid race;
+Yet, not ungrateful to the peasant's pain,
+Suffices fulness to the swelling grain;
+The loaded trees their various fruits produce,
+And clustering grapes afford a generous juice;
+Woods crown our mountains, and in every grove
+The bounding goats and frisking heifers rove;
+Soft rains and kindly dews refresh the field,
+And rising springs eternal verdure yield.
+E'en to those shores is Ithaca renown'd,
+Where Troy's majestic ruins strew the ground."
+
+At this, the chief with transport was possess'd;
+His panting heart exulted in his breast;
+Yet, well dissembling his untimely joys,
+And veiling truth in plausible disguise,
+Thus, with an air sincere, in fiction bold,
+His ready tale the inventive hero told:
+
+"Oft have I heard in Crete this island's name;
+For 'twas from Crete, my native soil, I came,
+Self-banished thence.  I sail'd before the wind,
+And left my children and my friends behind.
+From fierce Idomeneus' revenge I flew,
+Whose son, the swift Orsilochus, I slew
+(With brutal force he seized my Trojan prey,
+Due to the toils of many a bloody day).
+Unseen I 'scaped, and favour'd by the night,
+In a Phoenician vessel took my flight,
+For Pyle or Elis bound; but tempests toss'd
+And raging billows drove us on your coast.
+In dead of night an unknown port we gain'd;
+Spent with fatigue, and slept secure on land.
+But ere the rosy morn renew'd the day,
+While in the embrace of pleasing sleep I lay,
+Sudden, invited by auspicious gales,
+They land my goods, and hoist their flying sails.
+Abandon'd here, my fortune I deplore
+A hapless exile on a foreign shore,"
+
+Thus while he spoke, the blue-eyed maid began
+With pleasing smiles to view the godlike man;
+Then changed her form: and now, divinely bright,
+Jove's heavenly daughter stood confess'd to sight;
+Like a fair virgin in her beauty's bloom,
+Skill'd in the illustrious labours of the loom.
+
+"O still the same Ulysses! (she rejoin'd,)
+In useful craft successfully refined!
+Artful in speech, in action, and in mind!
+Sufficed it not, that, thy long labours pass'd,
+Secure thou seest thy native shore at last?
+But this to me? who, like thyself, excel
+In arts of counsel and dissembling well;
+To me? whose wit exceeds the powers divine,
+No less than mortals are surpass'd by thine.
+Know'st thou not me; who made thy life my care,
+Through ten years' wandering, and through ten years' war;
+Who taught thee arts, Alcinous to persuade,
+To raise his wonder, and engage his aid;
+And now appear, thy treasures to protect,
+Conceal thy person, thy designs direct,
+And tell what more thou must from Fate expect;
+Domestic woes far heavier to be borne!
+The pride of fools, and slaves' insulting scorn?
+But thou be silent, nor reveal thy state;
+Yield to the force of unresisted Fate,
+And bear unmoved the wrongs of base mankind,
+The last, and hardest, conquest of the mind."
+
+"Goddess of wisdom! (Ithacus replies,)
+He who discerns thee must be truly wise,
+So seldom view'd and ever in disguise!
+When the bold Argives led their warring powers,
+Against proud Ilion's well-defended towers,
+Ulysses was thy care, celestial maid!
+Graced with thy sight, and favoured with thy aid.
+But when the Trojan piles in ashes lay,
+And bound for Greece we plough'd the watery way;
+Our fleet dispersed, and driven from coast to coast,
+Thy sacred presence from that hour I lost;
+Till I beheld thy radiant form once more,
+And heard thy counsels on Phaeacia's shore.
+But, by the almighty author of thy race,
+Tell me, oh tell, is this my native place?
+For much I fear, long tracts of land and sea
+Divide this coast from distant Ithaca;
+The sweet delusion kindly you impose,
+To soothe my hopes, and mitigate my woes."
+
+Thus he. The blue-eyed goddess thus replies;
+"How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise!
+Who, versed in fortune, fear the flattering show,
+And taste not half the bliss the gods bestow.
+The more shall Pallas aid thy just desires,
+And guard the wisdom which herself inspires.
+Others long absent from their native place,
+Straight seek their home, and fly with eager pace
+To their wives' arms, and children's dear embrace.
+Not thus Ulysses; he decrees to prove
+His subjects' faith, and queen's suspected love;
+Who mourn'd her lord twice ten revolving years,
+And wastes the days in grief, the nights in tears.
+But Pallas knew (thy friends and navy lost)
+Once more 'twas given thee to behold thy coast;
+Yet how could I with adverse Fate engage,
+And mighty Neptune's unrelenting rage?
+Now lift thy longing eyes, while I restore
+The pleasing prospect of thy native shore.
+Bebold the port of Phorcys! fenced around
+With rocky mountains, and with olives crown'd,
+Behold the gloomy grot! whose cool recess
+Delights the Nereids of the neighbouring seas;
+Whose now-neglected altars in thy reign
+Blush'd with the blood of sheep and oxen slain,
+Behold! where Neritus the clouds divides,
+And shakes the waving forests on his sides."
+
+So spake the goddess; and the prospect clear'd,
+The mists dispersed, and all the coast appeared.
+The king with joy confess'd his place of birth,
+And on his knees salutes his mother earth;
+Then, with his suppliant hands upheld in air,
+Thus to the sea-green sisters sends his prayer;
+
+"All hail! ye virgin daughters of the main!
+Ye streams, beyond my hopes, beheld again!
+To you once more your own Ulysses bows;
+Attend his transports, and receive his vows!
+If Jove prolong my days, and Pallas crown
+The growing virtues of my youthful son,
+To you shall rites divine be ever paid,
+And grateful offerings on your altars laid."
+
+Thus then Minerva: "From that anxious breast
+Dismiss those cares, and leave to heaven the rest.
+Our task be now thy treasured stores to save,
+Deep in the close recesses of the cave;
+Then future means consult." She spoke, and trod
+The shady grot, that brighten'd with the god.
+The closest caverns of the grot she sought;
+The gold, the brass, the robes, Ulysses brought;
+These in the secret gloom the chief disposed;
+The entrance with a rock the goddess closed.
+
+Now, seated in the olive's sacred shade,
+Confer the hero and the martial maid.
+The goddess of the azure eyes began:
+"Son of Laertes! much-experienced man!
+The suitor-train thy earliest care demand,
+Of that luxurious race to rid the land;
+Three years thy house their lawless rule has seen,
+And proud addresses to the matchless queen.
+But she thy absence mourns from day to day,
+And inly bleeds, and silent wastes away;
+Elusive of the bridal hour, she gives
+Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives."
+
+To this Ulysses: "O celestial maid!
+Praised be thy counsel, and thy timely aid;
+Else had I seen my native walls in vain,
+Like great Atrides, just restored and slain.
+Vouchsafe the means of vengeance to debate,
+And plan with all thy arts the scene of fate.
+Then, then be present, and my soul inspire,
+As when we wrapp'd Troy's heaven-built walls in fire.
+Though leagued against me hundred heroes stand.
+Hundreds shall fall, if Pallas aid my hand."
+
+She answer'd: "In the dreadful day of fight
+Know, I am with thee, strong in all my might.
+If thou but equal to thyself be found,
+What gasping numbers then shall press the ground!
+What human victims stain the feastful floor!
+How wide the pavements float with guilty gore!
+It fits thee now to wear a dark disguise,
+And secret walk unknown to mortal eyes.
+For this, my hand shall wither every grace,
+And every elegance of form and face;
+O'er thy smooth skin a bark of wrinkles spread,
+Turn hoar the auburn honours of thy head;
+Disfigure every limb with coarse attire,
+And in thy eyes extinguish all the fire;
+Add all the wants and the decays of life;
+Estrange thee from thy own; thy son, thy wife;
+From the loathed object every sight shall turn,
+And the blind suitors their destruction scorn.
+
+"Go first the master of thy herds to find,
+True to his charge, a loyal swain and kind;
+For thee he sighs; and to the loyal heir
+And chaste Penelope extends his care.
+At the Coracian rock he now resides,
+Where Arethusa's sable water glides;
+The sable water and the copious mast
+Swell the fat herd; luxuriant, large repast!
+With him rest peaceful in the rural cell,
+And all you ask his faithful tongue shall tell.
+Me into other realms my cares convey,
+To Sparta, still with female beauty gay;
+For know, to Sparta thy loved offspring came,
+To learn thy fortunes from the voice of Fame."
+
+At this the father, with a father's care:
+"Must he too suffer? he, O goddess! bear
+Of wanderings and of woes a wretched share?
+Through the wild ocean plough the dangerous way,
+And leave his fortunes and his house a prey?
+Why would'st not thou, O all-enlighten'd mind!
+Inform him certain, and protect him, kind?"
+
+To whom Minerva: "Be thy soul at rest;
+And know, whatever heaven ordains is best.
+To fame I sent him, to acquire renown;
+To other regions is his virtue known;
+Secure he sits, near great Atrides placed;
+With friendships strengthen'd, and with honours graced,
+But lo! an ambush waits his passage o'er;
+Fierce foes insidious intercept the shore;
+In vain; far sooner all the murderous brood
+This injured land shall fatten with their blood."
+
+She spake, then touch'd him with her powerful wand:
+The skin shrunk up, and wither'd at her hand;
+A swift old age o'er all his members spread;
+A sudden frost was sprinkled on his head;
+Nor longer in the heavy eye-ball shined
+The glance divine, forth-beaming from the mind.
+His robe, which spots indelible besmear,
+In rags dishonest flutters with the air:
+A stag's torn hide is lapp'd around his reins;
+A rugged staff his trembling hand sustains;
+And at his side a wretched scrip was hung,
+Wide-patch'd, and knotted to a twisted thong.
+So looked the chief, so moved: to mortal eyes
+Object uncouth! a man of miseries!
+While Pallas, cleaving the wild fields of air,
+To Sparta flies, Telemachus her care.
+
+
+BOOK XIV.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+THE CONVERSATION WITH EUMAEUS.
+
+Ulysses arrives in disguise at the house of Eumaeus, where he is
+received, entertained, and lodged with the utmost hospitality. The
+several discourses of that faithful old servant, with the feigned
+story told by Ulysses to conceal himself, and other conversations
+on various subjects, take up this entire book.
+
+
+
+But he, deep-musing, o'er the mountains stray'd
+Through mazy thickets of the woodland shade,
+And cavern'd ways, the shaggy coast along
+With cliffs and nodding forests overhung.
+Eumaeus at his sylvan lodge he sought,
+A faithful servant, and without a fault.
+Ulysses found him busied as he sate
+Before the threshold of his rustic gate;
+Around the mansion in a circle shone
+A rural portico of rugged stone
+(In absence of his lord with honest toil
+His own industrious hands had raised the pile).
+The wall was stone from neighbouring quarries borne,
+Encircled with a fence of native thorn,
+And strong with pales, by many a weary stroke
+Of stubborn labour hewn from heart of oak:
+Frequent and thick. Within the space were rear'd
+Twelve ample cells, the lodgments of his herd.
+Full fifty pregnant females each contain'd;
+The males without (a smaller race) remain'd;
+Doom'd to supply the suitors' wasteful feast,
+A stock by daily luxury decreased;
+Now scarce four hundred left. These to defend,
+Four savage dogs, a watchful guard, attend.
+Here sat Eumaeus, and his cares applied
+To form strong buskins of well-season'd hide.
+Of four assistants who his labour share,
+Three now were absent on the rural care;
+The fourth drove victims to a suitor train:
+But he, of ancient faith, a simple swain,
+Sigh'd, while he furnish'd the luxurious board,
+And wearied Heaven with wishes for his lord.
+
+Soon as Ulysses near the inclosure drew,
+With open mouths the furious mastiffs flew:
+Down sat the sage, and cautious to withstand,
+Let fall the offensive truncheon from his hand.
+Sudden, the master runs; aloud he calls;
+And from his hasty hand the leather falls:
+With showers of stones he drives then far away:
+The scattering dogs around at distance bay.
+
+"Unhappy stranger! (thus the faithful swain
+Began with accent gracious and humane),
+What sorrow had been mine, if at my gate
+Thy reverend age had met a shameful fate!
+Enough of woes already have I known;
+Enough my master's sorrows and my own.
+While here (ungrateful task!) his herds I feed,
+Ordain'd for lawless rioters to bleed!
+Perhaps, supported at another's board!
+Far from his country roams my hapless lord;
+Or sigh'd in exile forth his latest breath,
+Now cover'd with the eternal shade of death!
+
+"But enter this my homely roof, and see
+Our woods not void of hospitality.
+Then tell me whence thou art, and what the share
+Of woes and wanderings thou wert born to bear."
+
+He said, and, seconding the kind request,
+With friendly step precedes his unknown guest.
+A shaggy goat's soft hide beneath him spread,
+And with fresh rushes heap'd an ample bed;
+Jove touch'd the hero's tender soul, to find
+So just reception from a heart so kind:
+And "Oh, ye gods! with all your blessings grace
+(He thus broke forth) this friend of human race!"
+
+The swain replied: "It never was our guise
+To slight the poor, or aught humane despise:
+For Jove unfold our hospitable door,
+'Tis Jove that sends the stranger and the poor,
+Little, alas! is all the good I can
+A man oppress'd, dependent, yet a man:
+Accept such treatment as a swain affords,
+Slave to the insolence of youthful lords!
+Far hence is by unequal gods removed
+That man of bounties, loving and beloved!
+To whom whate'er his slave enjoys is owed,
+And more, had Fate allow'd, had been bestow'd:
+But Fate condemn'd him to a foreign shore;
+Much have I sorrow'd, but my Master more.
+Now cold he lies, to death's embrace resign'd:
+Ah, perish Helen! perish all her kind!
+For whose cursed cause, in Agamemnon's name,
+He trod so fatally the paths of fame."
+
+His vest succinct then girding round his waist,
+Forth rush'd the swain with hospitable haste.
+Straight to the lodgments of his herd he run,
+Where the fat porkers slept beneath the sun;
+Of two, his cutlass launch'd the spouting blood;
+These quarter'd, singed, and fix'd on forks of wood,
+All hasty on the hissing coals he threw;
+And smoking, back the tasteful viands drew.
+Broachers and all then an the board display'd
+The ready meal, before Ulysses laid
+With flour imbrown'd; next mingled wine yet new,
+And luscious as the bees' nectareous dew:
+Then sate, companion of the friendly feast,
+With open look; and thus bespoke his guest:
+"Take with free welcome what our hands prepare,
+Such food as falls to simple servants' share;
+The best our lords consume; those thoughtless peers,
+Rich without bounty, guilty without fears;
+Yet sure the gods their impious acts detest,
+And honour justice and the righteous breast.
+Pirates and conquerors of harden'd mind,
+The foes of peace, and scourges of mankind,
+To whom offending men are made a prey
+When Jove in vengeance gives a land away;
+E'en these, when of their ill-got spoils possess'd,
+Find sure tormentors in the guilty breast:
+Some voice of God close whispering from within,
+'Wretch! this is villainy, and this is sin.'
+But these, no doubt, some oracle explore,
+That tells, the great Ulysses is no more.
+Hence springs their confidence, and from our sighs
+Their rapine strengthens, and their riots rise:
+Constant as Jove the night and day bestows,
+Bleeds a whole hecatomb, a vintage flows.
+None match'd this hero's wealth, of all who reign
+O'er the fair islands of the neighbouring main.
+Nor all the monarchs whose far-dreaded sway
+The wide-extended continents obey:
+First, on the main land, of Ulysses' breed
+Twelve herds, twelve flocks, on ocean's margin feed;
+As many stalls for shaggy goats are rear'd;
+As many lodgments for the tusky herd;
+Two foreign keepers guard: and here are seen
+Twelve herds of goats that graze our utmost green;
+To native pastors is their charge assign'd,
+And mine the care to feed the bristly kind;
+Each day the fattest bleeds of either herd,
+All to the suitors' wasteful board preferr'd."
+Thus he, benevolent: his unknown guest
+With hunger keen devours the savoury feast;
+While schemes of vengeance ripen in his breast.
+Silent and thoughtful while the board he eyed,
+Eumaeus pours on high the purple tide;
+The king with smiling looks his joy express'd,
+And thus the kind inviting host address'd:
+
+"Say now, what man is he, the man deplored,
+So rich, so potent, whom you style your lord?
+Late with such affluence and possessions bless'd,
+And now in honour's glorious bed at rest.
+Whoever was the warrior, he must be
+To fame no stranger, nor perhaps to me:
+Who (so the gods and so the Fates ordain'd)
+Have wander'd many a sea, and many a land."
+
+"Small is the faith the prince and queen ascribe
+(Replied Eumaeus) to the wandering tribe.
+For needy strangers still to flattery fly,
+And want too oft betrays the tongue to lie.
+Each vagrant traveller, that touches here,
+Deludes with fallacies the royal ear,
+To dear remembrance makes his image rise,
+And calls the springing sorrows from her eyes.
+Such thou mayst be. But he whose name you crave
+Moulders in earth, or welters on the wave,
+Or food for fish or dogs his relics lie,
+Or torn by birds are scatter'd through the sky.
+So perish'd he: and left (for ever lost)
+Much woe to all, but sure to me the most.
+So mild a master never shall I find;
+Less dear the parents whom I left behind,
+Less soft my mother, less my father kind.
+Not with such transport would my eyes run o'er,
+Again to hail them in their native shore,
+As loved Ulysses once more to embrace,
+Restored and breathing in his natal place.
+That name for ever dread, yet ever dear,
+E'en in his absence I pronounce with fear:
+In my respect, he bears a prince's part;
+But lives a very brother in my heart."
+
+Thus spoke the faithful swain, and thus rejoin'd
+The master of his grief, the man of patient mind:
+"Ulysses, friend! shall view his old abodes
+(Distrustful as thou art), nor doubt the gods.
+Nor speak I rashly, but with faith averr'd,
+And what I speak attesting Heaven has heard.
+If so, a cloak and vesture be my meed:
+Till his return no title shall I plead,
+Though certain be my news, and great my need.
+Whom want itself can force untruths to tell,
+My soul detests him as the gates of hell.
+
+"Thou first be witness, hospitable Jove!
+And every god inspiring social love!
+And witness every household power that waits,
+Guard of these fires, and angel of these gates!
+Ere the next moon increase or this decay,
+His ancient realms Ulysses shall survey,
+In blood and dust each proud oppressor mourn,
+And the lost glories of his house return."
+
+"Nor shall that meed be thine, nor ever more
+Shall loved Ulysses hail this happy shore.
+(Replied Eumaeus): to the present hour
+Now turn thy thought, and joys within our power.
+From sad reflection let my soul repose;
+The name of him awakes a thousand woes.
+But guard him, gods! and to these arms restore!
+Not his true consort can desire him more;
+Not old Laertes, broken with despair:
+Not young Telemachus, his blooming heir.
+Alas, Telemachus! my sorrows flow
+Afresh for thee, my second cause of woe!
+Like some fair plant set by a heavenly hand,
+He grew, he flourish'd, and he bless'd the land;
+In all the youth his father's image shined,
+Bright in his person, brighter in his mind.
+What man, or god, deceived his better sense,
+Far on the swelling seas to wander hence?
+To distant Pylos hapless is he gone,
+To seek his father's fate and find his own!
+For traitors wait his way, with dire design
+To end at once the great Arcesian line.
+But let us leave him to their wills above;
+The fates of men are in the hand of Jove.
+And now, my venerable guest! declare
+Your name, your parents, and your native air:
+Sincere from whence begun, your course relate,
+And to what ship I owe the friendly freight?"
+
+Thus he: and thus (with prompt invention bold)
+The cautious chief his ready story told.
+
+"On dark reserve what better can prevail,
+Or from the fluent tongue produce the tale,
+Than when two friends, alone, in peaceful place
+Confer, and wines and cates the table grace;
+But most, the kind inviter's cheerful face?
+Thus might we sit, with social goblets crown'd,
+Till the whole circle of the year goes round:
+Not the whole circle of the year would close
+My long narration of a life of woes.
+But such was Heaven's high will! Know then, I came
+From sacred Crete, and from a sire of fame:
+Castor Hylacides (that name he bore),
+Beloved and honour'd in his native shore;
+Bless'd in his riches, in his children more.
+Sprung of a handmaid, from a bought embrace,
+I shared his kindness with his lawful race:
+But when that fate, which all must undergo,
+From earth removed him to the shades below,
+The large domain his greedy sons divide,
+And each was portion'd as the lots decide.
+Little, alas! was left my wretched share,
+Except a house, a covert from the air:
+But what by niggard fortune was denied,
+A willing widow's copious wealth supplied.
+My valour was my plea, a gallant mind,
+That, true to honour, never lagg'd behind
+(The sex is ever to a soldier kind).
+Now wasting years my former strength confound,
+And added woes have bow'd me to the ground;
+Yet by the stubble you may guess the grain,
+And mark the ruins of no vulgar man.
+Me, Pallas gave to lead the martial storm,
+And the fair ranks of battle to deform;
+Me, Mars inspired to turn the foe to flight,
+And tempt the secret ambush of the night.
+Let ghastly Death in all his forms appear,
+I saw him not, it was not mine to fear.
+Before the rest I raised my ready steel,
+The first I met, he yielded, or he fell.
+But works of peace my soul disdain'd to bear,
+The rural labour, or domestic care.
+To raise the mast, the missile dart to wing,
+And send swift arrows from the bounding string,
+Were arts the gods made grateful to my mind;
+Those gods, who turn (to various ends design'd)
+The various thoughts and talents of mankind.
+Before the Grecians touch'd the Trojan plain,
+Nine times commander or by land or main,
+In foreign fields I spread my glory far,
+Great in the praise, rich in the spoils of war;
+Thence charged with riches, as increased in fame,
+To Crete return'd, an honourable name.
+But when great Jove that direful war decreed,
+Which roused all Greece, and made the mighty bleed;
+Our states myself and Idomen employ
+To lead their fleets, and carry death to Troy.
+Nine years we warr'd; the tenth saw Ilion fall;
+Homeward we sail'd, but heaven dispersed us all.
+One only month my wife enjoy'd my stay;
+So will'd the god who gives and takes away.
+Nine ships I mann'd, equipp'd with ready stores,
+Intent to voyage to the Aegyptian shores;
+In feast and sacrifice my chosen train
+Six days consum'd; the seventh we plough'd the main.
+Crete's ample fields diminish to our eye;
+Before the Boreal blast the vessels fly;
+Safe through the level seas we sweep our way;
+The steersman governs, and the ships obey.
+The fifth fair morn we stem the Aegyptian tide,
+And tilting o'er the bay the vessels ride:
+To anchor there my fellows I command,
+And spies commission to explore the land.
+But, sway'd by lust of gain, and headlong will,
+The coasts they ravage, and the natives kill.
+The spreading clamour to their city flies,
+And horse and foot in mingled tumult rise.
+The reddening dawn reveals the circling fields,
+Horrid with bristly spears, and glancing shields.
+Jove thunder'd on their side. Our guilty head
+We turn'd to flight; the gathering vengeance spread
+On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lie dead.
+I then explored my thought, what course to prove
+(And sure the thought was dictated by Jove):
+Oh, had he left me to that happier doom,
+And saved a life of miseries to come!
+The radiant helmet from my brows unlaced,
+And low on earth my shield and javelin cast,
+I meet the monarch with a suppliant's face,
+Approach his chariot, and his knees embrace,
+He heard, he saved, he placed me at his side;
+My state he pitied, and my tears he dried,
+Restrain'd the rage the vengeful foe express'd,
+And turn'd the deadly weapons from my breast.
+Pious! to guard the hospitable rite,
+And fearing Jove, whom mercy's works delight.
+
+"In Aegypt thus with peace and plenty bless'd,
+I lived (and happy still have lived) a guest.
+On seven bright years successive blessings wait;
+The next changed all the colour of my fate.
+A false Phoenician, of insiduous mind,
+Versed in vile arts, and foe to humankind,
+With semblance fair invites me to his home;
+I seized the proffer (ever fond to roam):
+Domestic in his faithless roof I stay'd,
+Till the swift sun his annual circle made.
+To Libya then he mediates the way;
+With guileful art a stranger to betray,
+And sell to bondage in a foreign land:
+Much doubting, yet compell'd I quit the strand,
+Through the mid seas the nimble pinnace sails,
+Aloof from Crete, before the northern gales:
+But when remote her chalky cliffs we lost,
+And far from ken of any other coast,
+When all was wild expanse of sea and air,
+Then doom'd high Jove due vengeance to prepare.
+He hung a night of horrors o'er their head
+(The shaded ocean blacken'd as it spread):
+He launch'd the fiery bolt: from pole to pole
+Broad burst the lightnings, deep the thunders roll;
+In giddy rounds the whirling ship is toss'd,
+An all in clouds of smothering sulphur lost.
+As from a hanging rock's tremendous height,
+The sable crows with intercepted flight
+Drop endlong; scarr'd, and black with sulphurous hue,
+So from the deck are hurl'd the ghastly crew.
+Such end the wicked found! but Jove's intent
+Was yet to save the oppress'd and innocent.
+Placed on the mast (the last resource of life)
+With winds and waves I held unequal strife:
+For nine long days the billows tilting o'er,
+The tenth soft wafts me to Thesprotia's shore.
+The monarch's son a shipwreck'd wretch relieved,
+The sire with hospitable rites received,
+And in his palace like a brother placed,
+With gifts of price and gorgeous garments graced
+While here I sojourn'd, oft I heard the fame
+How late Ulysses to the country came.
+How loved, how honour'd in this court he stay'd,
+And here his whole collected treasure laid;
+I saw myself the vast unnumber'd store
+Of steel elaborate, and refulgent ore,
+And brass high heap'd amidst the regal dome;
+Immense supplies for ages yet to come!
+Meantime he voyaged to explore the will
+Of Jove, on high Dodona's holy hill,
+What means might best his safe return avail,
+To come in pomp, or bear a secret sail?
+Full oft has Phidon, whilst he pour'd the wine,
+Attesting solemn all the powers divine,
+That soon Ulysses would return, declared
+The sailors waiting, and the ships prepared.
+But first the king dismiss'd me from his shores,
+For fair Dulichium crown'd with fruitful stores;
+To good Acastus' friendly care consign'd:
+But other counsels pleased the sailors' mind:
+New frauds were plotted by the faithless train,
+And misery demands me once again.
+Soon as remote from shore they plough the wave,
+With ready hands they rush to seize their slave;
+Then with these tatter'd rags they wrapp'd me round
+(Stripp'd of my own), and to the vessel bound.
+At eve, at Ithaca's delightful land
+The ship arriv'd: forth issuing on the sand,
+They sought repast; while to the unhappy kind,
+The pitying gods themselves my chains unbind.
+Soft I descended, to the sea applied
+My naked breast, and shot along the tide.
+Soon pass'd beyond their sight, I left the flood,
+And took the spreading shelter of the wood.
+Their prize escaped the faithless pirates mourn'd;
+But deem'd inquiry vain, and to their ships return'd.
+Screen'd by protecting gods from hostile eyes,
+They led me to a good man and a wise,
+To live beneath thy hospitable care,
+And wait the woes Heaven dooms me yet to bear."
+
+"Unhappy guest! whose sorrows touch my mind!
+(Thus good Eumaeus with a sigh rejoin'd,)
+For real sufferings since I grieve sincere,
+Check not with fallacies the springing tear:
+Nor turn the passion into groundless joy
+For him whom Heaven has destined to destroy.
+Oh! had he perish'd on some well-fought day,
+Or in his friend's embraces died away!
+That grateful Greece with streaming eyes might raise
+Historic marbles to record his praise;
+His praise, eternal on the faithful stone,
+Had with transmissive honours graced his son.
+Now, snatch'd by harpies to the dreary coast,
+Sunk is the hero, and his glory lost!
+While pensive in this solitary den,
+Far from gay cities and the ways of men,
+I linger life; nor to the court repair,
+But when my constant queen commands my care;
+Or when, to taste her hospitable board,
+Some guest arrives, with rumours of her lord;
+And these indulge their want, and those their woe,
+And here the tears and there the goblets flow.
+By many such have I been warn'd; but chief
+By one Aetolian robb'd of all belief,
+Whose hap it was to this our roof to roam,
+For murder banish'd from his native home.
+He swore, Ulysses on the coast of Crete
+Stay'd but a season to refit his fleet;
+A few revolving months should waft him o'er,
+Fraught with bold warriors, and a boundless store
+O thou! whom age has taught to understand,
+And Heaven has guided with a favouring hand!
+On god or mortal to obtrude a lie
+Forbear, and dread to flatter as to die.
+Nor for such ends my house and heart are free,
+But dear respect to Jove, and charity."
+
+"And why, O swain of unbelieving mind!
+(Thus quick replied the wisest of mankind)
+Doubt you my oath? yet more my faith to try,
+A solemn compact let us ratify,
+And witness every power that rules the sky!
+If here Ulysses from his labours rest,
+Be then my prize a tunic and a vest;
+And where my hopes invite me, straight transport
+In safety to Dulichium's friendly court.
+But if he greets not thy desiring eye,
+Hurl me from yon dread precipice on high:
+The due reward of fraud and perjury."
+
+"Doubtless, O guest! great laud and praise were mine
+(Replied the swain, for spotless faith divine),
+If after social rites and gifts bestow'd,
+I stain'd my hospitable hearth with blood.
+How would the gods my righteous toils succeed,
+And bless the hand that made a stranger bleed?
+No more--the approaching hours of silent night
+First claim refection, then to rest invite;
+Beneath our humble cottage let us haste,
+And here, unenvied, rural dainties taste."
+
+Thus communed these; while to their lowly dome
+The full-fed swine return'd with evening home;
+Compell'd, reluctant, to their several sties,
+With din obstreperous, and ungrateful cries.
+Then to the slaves: "Now from the herd the best
+Select in honour of our foreign guest:
+With him let us the genial banquet share,
+For great and many are the griefs we bear;
+While those who from our labours heap their board
+Blaspheme their feeder, and forget their lord."
+
+Thus speaking, with despatchful hand he took
+A weighty axe, and cleft the solid oak;
+This on the earth he piled; a boar full fed,
+Of five years' age, before the pile was led:
+The swain, whom acts of piety delight,
+Observant of the gods, begins the rite;
+First shears the forehead of the bristly boar,
+And suppliant stands, invoking every power
+To speed Ulysses to his native shore.
+A knotty stake then aiming at his head,
+Down dropped he groaning, and the spirit fled.
+The scorching flames climb round on every side;
+Then the singed members they with skill divide;
+On these, in rolls of fat involved with art,
+The choicest morsels lay from every part.
+Some in the flames bestrew'd with flour they threw;
+Some cut in fragments from the forks they drew:
+These while on several tables they dispose.
+A priest himself the blameless rustic rose;
+Expert the destined victim to dispart
+In seven just portions, pure of hand and heart.
+One sacred to the nymphs apart they lay:
+Another to the winged sons of May;
+The rural tribe in common share the rest,
+The king the chine, the honour of the feast,
+Who sate delighted at his servant's board;
+The faithful servant joy'd his unknown lord.
+"Oh be thou dear (Ulysses cried) to Jove,
+As well thou claim'st a grateful stranger's love!"
+
+"Be then thy thanks (the bounteous swain replied)
+Enjoyment of the good the gods provide.
+From God's own hand descend our joys and woes;
+These he decrees, and he but suffers those:
+All power is his, and whatsoe'er he wills,
+The will itself, omnipotent, fulfils."
+This said, the first-fruits to the gods he gave;
+Then pour'd of offer'd wine the sable wave:
+In great Ulysses' hand he placed the bowl,
+He sate, and sweet refection cheer'd his soul.
+The bread from canisters Mesaulius gave
+(Eumaeus' proper treasure bought this slave,
+And led from Taphos, to attend his board,
+A servant added to his absent lord);
+His task it was the wheaten loaves to lay,
+And from the banquet take the bowls away.
+And now the rage of hunger was repress'd,
+And each betakes him to his couch to rest.
+
+Now came the night, and darkness cover'd o'er
+The face of things; the winds began to roar;
+The driving storm the watery west-wind pours,
+And Jove descends in deluges of showers.
+Studious of rest and warmth, Ulysses lies,
+Foreseeing from the first the storm would rise
+In mere necessity of coat and cloak,
+With artful preface to his host he spoke:
+"Hear me, my friends! who this good banquet grace;
+'Tis sweet to play the fool in time and place,
+And wine can of their wits the wise beguile,
+Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile,
+The grave in merry measures frisk about,
+And many a long-repented word bring out.
+Since to be talkative I now commence,
+Let wit cast off the sullen yoke of sense.
+Once I was strong (would Heaven restore those days!)
+And with my betters claim'd a share of praise.
+Ulysses, Menelaus, led forth a band,
+And join'd me with them ('twas their own command);
+A deathful ambush for the foe to lay,
+Beneath Troy walls by night we took our way:
+There, clad in arms, along the marshes spread,
+We made the osier-fringed bank our bed.
+Full soon the inclemency of heaven I feel,
+Nor had these shoulders covering, but of steel.
+Sharp blew the north; snow whitening all the fields
+Froze with the blast, and gathering glazed our shields.
+There all but I, well fenced with cloak and vest,
+Lay cover'd by their ample shields at rest.
+Fool that I was! I left behind my own,
+The skill of weather and of winds unknown,
+And trusted to my coat and shield alone!
+When now was wasted more than half the night,
+And the stars faded at approaching light,
+Sudden I jogg'd Ulysses, who was laid
+Fast by my side, and shivering thus I said:
+
+"'Here longer in this field I cannot lie;
+The winter pinches, and with cold I die,
+And die ashamed (O wisest of mankind),
+The only fool who left his cloak behind.'
+
+"He thought and answer'd: hardly waking yet,
+Sprung in his mind a momentary wit
+(That wit, which or in council or in fight,
+Still met the emergence, and determined right).
+'Hush thee (he cried, soft whispering in my ear),
+Speak not a word, lest any Greek may hear'--
+And then (supporting on his arm his head),
+'Hear me, companions! (thus aloud he said:)
+Methinks too distant from the fleet we lie:
+E'en now a vision stood before my eye,
+And sure the warning vision was from high:
+Let from among us some swift courier rise,
+Haste to the general, and demand supplies.'
+
+"Up started Thoas straight, Andraemon's son,
+Nimbly he rose, and cast his garment down!
+Instant, the racer vanish'd off the ground;
+That instant in his cloak I wrapp'd me round:
+And safe I slept, till brightly-dawning shone
+The morn conspicuous on her golden throne.
+
+"Oh were my strength as then, as then my age!
+Some friend would fence me from the winter's rage.
+Yet, tatter'd as I look, I challenged then
+The honours and the offices of men:
+Some master, or some servant would allow
+A cloak and vest--but I am nothing now!"
+
+"Well hast thou spoke (rejoin'd the attentive swain):
+Thy lips let fall no idle word or vain!
+Nor garment shalt thou want, nor aught beside,
+Meet for the wandering suppliant to provide.
+But in the morning take thy clothes again,
+For here one vest suffices every swain:
+No change of garments to our hinds is known;
+But when return'd, the good Ulysses' son
+With better hand shall grace with fit attires
+His guest, and send thee where thy soul desires."
+
+The honest herdsman rose, as this he said,
+And drew before the hearth the stranger's bed;
+The fleecy spoils of sheep, a goat's rough hide
+He spreads; and adds a mantle thick and wide;
+With store to heap above him, and below,
+And guard each quarter as the tempests blow.
+There lay the king, and all the rest supine;
+All, but the careful master of the swine:
+Forth hasted he to tend his bristly care;
+Well arm'd, and fenced against nocturnal air:
+His weighty falchion o'er his shoulder tied:
+His shaggy cloak a mountain goat supplied:
+With his broad spear the dread of dogs and men,
+He seeks his lodging in the rocky den.
+There to the tusky herd he bends his way,
+Where, screen'd from Boreas, high o'erarch'd they lay.
+
+
+
+BOOK XV.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+THE RETURN OF TELEMACHUS.
+
+The goddess Minerva commands Telemachus in a vision to return to
+Ithaca. Pisistratus and he take leave of Menelaus, and arrive at
+Pylos, where they part: and Telemachus sets sail, after having
+received on board Theoclymenus the soothsayer. The scene then
+changes to the cottage of Eumaeus, who entertains Ulysses with a
+recital of his adventures. In the meantime Telemachus arrives on
+the coast, and sending the vessel to the town, proceeds by himself
+to the lodge of Eumaeus.
+
+
+
+Now had Minerva reach'd those ample plains,
+Famed for the dance, where Menelaus reigns:
+Anxious she flies to great Ulysses' heir,
+His instant voyage challenged all her care.
+Beneath the royal portico display'd,
+With Nestor's son Telemachus was laid:
+In sleep profound the son of Nestor lies;
+Not thine, Ulysses! Care unseal'd his eyes:
+Restless he grieved, with various fears oppress'd,
+And all thy fortunes roll'd within his breast.
+When, "O Telemachus! (the goddess said)
+Too long in vain, too widely hast thou stray'd,
+Thus leaving careless thy paternal right
+The robbers' prize, the prey to lawless might.
+On fond pursuits neglectful while you roam,
+E'en now the hand of rapine sacks the dome.
+Hence to Atrides; and his leave implore
+To launch thy vessel for thy natal shore;
+Fly, whilst thy mother virtuous yet withstands
+Her kindred's wishes, and her sire's commands;
+Through both, Eurymachus pursues the dame,
+And with the noblest gifts asserts his claim.
+Hence, therefore, while thy stores thy own remain;
+Thou know'st the practice of the female train,
+Lost in the children of the present spouse,
+They slight the pledges of their former vows;
+Their love is always with the lover past;
+Still the succeeding flame expels the last.
+Let o'er thy house some chosen maid preside,
+Till Heaven decrees to bless thee in a bride.
+But now thy more attentive ears incline,
+Observe the warnings of a power divine;
+For thee their snares the suitor lords shall lay
+In Samos' sands, or straits of Ithaca;
+To seize thy life shall lurk the murderous band,
+Ere yet thy footsteps press thy native land.
+No!--sooner far their riot and their lust
+All-covering earth shall bury deep in dust!
+Then distant from the scatter'd islands steer,
+Nor let the night retard thy full career;
+Thy heavenly guardian shall instruct the gales
+To smooth thy passage and supply thy sails:
+And when at Ithaca thy labour ends,
+Send to the town the vessel with thy friends;
+But seek thou first the master of the swine
+(For still to thee his loyal thoughts incline);
+There pass the night: while he his course pursues
+To bring Penelope the wish'd-for news,
+That thou, safe sailing from the Pylian strand,
+Art come to bless her in thy native land."
+Thus spoke the goddess, and resumed her flight
+To the pure regions of eternal light,
+Meanwhile Pisistratus he gently shakes,
+And with these words the slumbering youth awakes:
+
+"Rise, son of Nestor; for the road prepare,
+And join the harness'd coursers to the car."
+
+"What cause (he cried) can justify our flight
+To tempt the dangers of forbidding night?
+Here wait we rather, till approaching day
+Shall prompt our speed, and point the ready way.
+Nor think of flight before the Spartan king
+Shall bid farewell, and bounteous presents bring;
+Gifts, which to distant ages safely stored,
+The sacred act of friendship shall record."
+
+Thus he. But when the dawn bestreak'd the east,
+The king from Helen rose, and sought his guest.
+As soon as his approach the hero knew,
+The splendid mantle round him first he threw,
+Then o'er his ample shoulders whirl'd the cloak,
+Respectful met the monarch, and bespoke:
+
+"Hail, great Atrides, favour'd of high Jove!
+Let not thy friends in vain for licence move.
+Swift let us measure back the watery way,
+Nor check our speed, impatient of delay."
+
+"If with desire so strong thy bosom glows,
+Ill (said the king) should I thy wish oppose;
+For oft in others freely I reprove
+The ill-timed efforts of officious love;
+Who love too much, hate in the like extreme,
+And both the golden mean alike condemn.
+Alike he thwarts the hospitable end,
+Who drives the free, or stays the hasty friend:
+True friendship's laws are by this rule express'd,
+Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.
+Yet, stay, my friends, and in your chariot take
+The noblest presents that our love can make;
+Meantime commit we to our women's care
+Some choice domestic viands to prepare;
+The traveller, rising from the banquet gay,
+Eludes the labours of the tedious way,
+Then if a wider course shall rather please,
+Through spacious Argos and the realms of Greece,
+Atrides in his chariot shall attend;
+Himself thy convoy to each royal friend.
+No prince will let Ulysses' heir remove
+Without some pledge, some monument of love:
+These will the caldron, these the tripod give;
+From those the well-pair'd mules we shall receive,
+Or bowl emboss'd whose golden figures live."
+
+To whom the youth, for prudence famed, replied:
+"O monarch, care of heaven! thy people's pride!
+No friend in Ithaca my place supplies,
+No powerful hands are there, no watchful eyes:
+My stores exposed and fenceless house demand
+The speediest succour from my guardian hand;
+Lest, in a search too anxious and too vain,
+Of one lost joy, I lose what yet remain."
+
+His purpose when the generous warrior heard,
+He charged the household cates to be prepared.
+Now with the dawn, from his adjoining home,
+Was Boethoedes Eteoneus come;
+Swift at the word he forms the rising blaze,
+And o'er the coals the smoking fragments lays.
+Meantime the king, his son, and Helen went
+Where the rich wardrobe breathed a costly scent;
+The king selected from the glittering rows
+A bowl; the prince a silver beaker chose.
+The beauteous queen revolved with careful eyes
+Her various textures of unnumber'd dyes,
+And chose the largest; with no vulgar art
+Her own fair hands embroider'd every part;
+Beneath the rest it lay divinely bright,
+Like radiant Hesper o'er the gems of night,
+Then with each gift they hasten'd to their guest,
+And thus the king Ulysses' heir address'd:
+"Since fix'd are thy resolves, may thundering Jove
+With happiest omens thy desires approve!
+This silver bowl, whose costly margins shine
+Enchased with old, this valued gift be thine;
+To me this present, of Vulcanian frame,
+From Sidon's hospitable monarch came;
+To thee we now consign the precious load,
+The pride of kings, and labour of a god."
+
+Then gave the cup, while Megapenthe brought
+The silver vase with living sculpture wrought.
+The beauteous queen, advancing next, display'd
+The shining veil, and thus endearing said:
+
+"Accept, dear youth, this monument of love,
+Long since, in better days, by Helen wove:
+Safe in thy mother's care the vesture lay,
+To deck thy bride and grace thy nuptial day.
+Meantime may'st thou with happiest speed regain
+Thy stately palace, and thy wide domain."
+
+She said, and gave the veil; with grateful look
+The prince the variegated present took.
+And now, when through the royal dome they pass'd,
+High on a throne the king each stranger placed.
+A golden ewer the attendant damsel brings,
+Replete with water from the crystal springs;
+With copious streams the shining vase supplies
+A silver layer of capacious size.
+They wash. The tables in fair order spread,
+The glittering canisters are crown'd with bread;
+Viands of various kinds allure the taste,
+Of choicest sort and savour; rich repast!
+Whilst Eteoneus portions out the shares
+Atrides' son the purple draught prepares,
+And now (each sated with the genial feast,
+And the short rage of thirst and hunger ceased)
+Ulysses' son, with his illustrious friend,
+The horses join, the polish'd car ascend,
+Along the court the fiery steeds rebound,
+And the wide portal echoes to the sound.
+The king precedes; a bowl with fragrant wine
+(Libation destined to the powers divine)
+His right hand held: before the steed he stands,
+Then, mix'd with prayers, he utters these commands:
+
+"Farewell, and prosper, youths! let Nestor know
+What grateful thoughts still in this bosom glow,
+For all the proofs of his paternal care,
+Through the long dangers of the ten years' war."
+"Ah! doubt not our report (the prince rejoin'd)
+Of all the virtues of thy generous mind.
+And oh! return'd might we Ulysses meet!
+To him thy presents show, thy words repeat:
+How will each speech his grateful wonder raise!
+How will each gift indulge us in thy praise!"
+
+Scarce ended thus the prince, when on the right
+Advanced the bird of Jove: auspicious sight!
+A milk-white fowl his clinching talons bore,
+With care domestic pampered at the floor.
+Peasants in vain with threatening cries pursue,
+In solemn speed the bird majestic flew
+Full dexter to the car; the prosperous sight
+Fill'd every breast with wonder and delight.
+
+But Nestor's son the cheerful silence broke,
+And in these words the Spartan chief bespoke:
+"Say if to us the gods these omens send,
+Or fates peculiar to thyself portend?"
+
+Whilst yet the monarch paused, with doubts oppress'd
+The beauteous queen relieved his labouring breast:
+"Hear me (she cried), to whom the gods have given
+To read this sign, and mystic sense of heaven,
+As thus the plumy sovereign of the air
+Left on the mountain's brow his callow care,
+And wander'd through the wide ethereal way
+To pour his wrath on yon luxurious prey;
+So shall thy godlike father, toss'd in vain
+Through all the dangers of the boundless main,
+Arrive (or if perchance already come)
+From slaughter'd gluttons to release the dome."
+
+"Oh! if this promised bliss by thundering Jove
+(The prince replied) stand fix'd in fate above;
+To thee, as to some god, I'll temples raise.
+And crown thy altars with the costly blaze."
+
+He said; and bending o'er his chariot, flung
+Athwart the fiery steeds the smarting thong;
+The bounding shafts upon the harness play,
+Till night descending intercepts the way.
+To Diocles at Pherae they repair,
+Whose boasted sire was sacred Alpheus' heir;
+With him all night the youthful stranger stay'd,
+Nor found the hospitable rites unpaid,
+But soon as morning from her orient bed
+Had tinged the mountains with her earliest red,
+They join'd the steeds, and on the chariot sprung,
+The brazen portals in their passage rung.
+
+To Pylos soon they came; when thus begun
+To Nestor's heir Ulysses' godlike son:
+
+"Let not Pisistratus in vain be press'd,
+Nor unconsenting hear his friend's request;
+His friend by long hereditary claim,
+In toils his equal, and in years the same.
+No farther from our vessel, I implore,
+The courses drive; but lash them to the shore.
+Too long thy father would his friend detain;
+I dread his proffer'd kindness urged in vain."
+
+The hero paused, and ponder'd this request,
+While love and duty warr'd within his breast.
+At length resolved, he turn'd his ready hand,
+And lash'd his panting coursers to the strand.
+There, while within the poop with care he stored
+The regal presents of the Spartan lord,
+"With speed begone (said he); call every mate,
+Ere yet to Nestor I the tale relate:
+'Tis true, the fervour of his generous heart
+Brooks no repulse, nor couldst thou soon depart:
+Himself will seek thee here, nor wilt thou find,
+In words alone, the Pylian monarch kind.
+But when, arrived, he thy return shall know
+How will his breast with honest fury glow!"
+This said, the sounding strokes his horses fire,
+And soon he reached the palace of his sire.
+
+"Now (cried Telemachus) with speedy care
+Hoist every sail, and every oar prepare."
+Swift as the word his willing mates obey,
+And seize their seats, impatient for the sea.
+
+Meantime the prince with sacrifice adores
+Minerva, and her guardian aid implores;
+When lo! a wretch ran breathless to the shore,
+New from his crime; and reeking yet with gore.
+A seer he was, from great Melampus sprung,
+Melampus, who in Pylos flourish'd long,
+Till, urged by wrongs, a foreign realm he chose,
+Far from the hateful cause of all his woes.
+Neleus his treasures one long year detains,
+As long he groan'd in Philacus' chains:
+Meantime, what anguish and what rage combined
+For lovely Pero rack'd his labouring mind!
+Yet 'scaped he death; and vengeful of his wrong
+To Pylos drove the lowing herds along:
+Then (Neleus vanquish'd, and consign'd the fair
+To Bias' arms) he so sought a foreign air;
+Argos the rich for his retreat he chose,
+There form'd his empire; there his palace rose.
+From him Antiphates and Mantius came:
+The first begot Oicleus great in fame,
+And he Amphiaraus, immortal name!
+The people's saviour, and divinely wise,
+Beloved by Jove, and him who gilds the skies;
+Yet short his date of life! by female pride he dies.
+From Mantius Clitus, whom Aurora's love
+Snatch'd for his beauty to the thrones above;
+And Polyphides, on whom Phoebus shone
+With fullest rays, Amphiaraus now gone;
+In Hyperesia's groves he made abode,
+And taught mankind the counsels of the god.
+From him sprung Theoclymenus, who found
+(The sacred wine yet foaming on the ground)
+Telemachus: whom, as to Heaven he press'd
+His ardent vows, the stranger thus address'd:
+
+"O thou! that dost thy happy course prepare
+With pure libations and with solemn prayer:
+By that dread power to whom thy vows are paid;
+By all the lives of these; thy own dear head,
+Declare sincerely to no foe's demand
+Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land."
+
+"Prepare, then (said Telemachus), to know
+A tale from falsehood free, not free from woe.
+From Ithaca, of royal birth I came,
+And great Ulysses (ever honour'd name!)
+Once was my sire, though now, for ever lost,
+In Stygian gloom he glides a pensive ghost!
+Whose fate inquiring through the world we rove;
+The last, the wretched proof of filial love."
+
+The stranger then: "Nor shall I aught conceal,
+But the dire secret of my fate reveal.
+Of my own tribe an Argive wretch I slew;
+Whose powerful friends the luckless deed pursue
+With unrelenting rage, and force from home
+The blood-stain'd exile, ever doom'd to roam.
+But bear, oh bear me o'er yon azure flood;
+Receive the suppliant! spare my destined blood!"
+
+"Stranger (replied the prince) securely rest
+Affianced in our faith; henceforth our guest."
+Thus affable, Ulysses' godlike heir
+Takes from the stranger's hand the glittering spear:
+He climbs the ship, ascends the stern with haste
+And by his side the guest accepted placed.
+The chief his order gives: the obedient band,
+With due observance wait the chief's command:
+With speed the mast they rear, with speed unbind
+The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind.
+Minerva calls; the ready gales obey
+With rapid speed to whirl them o'er the sea.
+Crunus they pass'd, next Chalcis roll'd away,
+With thickening darkness closed the doubtful day;
+The silver Phaea's glittering rills they lost,
+And skimm'd along by Elis' sacred coast.
+Then cautious through the rocky reaches wind,
+And turning sudden, shun the death design'd.
+
+Meantime, the king, Eumaeus, and the rest,
+Sate in the cottage, at their rural feast:
+The banquet pass'd, and satiate every man,
+To try his host, Ulysses thus began:
+
+"Yet one night more, my friends, indulge your guest;
+The last I purpose in your walls to rest:
+To-morrow for myself I must provide,
+And only ask your counsel, and a guide;
+Patient to roam the street, by hunger led,
+And bless the friendly hand that gives me bread.
+There in Ulysses' roof I may relate
+Ulysses' wanderings to his royal mate;
+Or, mingling with the suitors' haughty train,
+Not undeserving some support obtain.
+Hermes to me his various gifts imparts.
+Patron of industry and manual arts:
+Few can with me in dexterous works contend,
+The pyre to build, the stubborn oak to rend;
+To turn the tasteful viand o'er the flame;
+Or foam the goblet with a purple stream.
+Such are the tasks of men of mean estate,
+Whom fortune dooms to serve the rich and great."
+
+"Alas! (Eumaeus with a sigh rejoin'd).
+How sprung a thought so monstrous in thy mind?
+If on that godless race thou would'st attend,
+Fate owes thee sure a miserable end!
+Their wrongs and blasphemies ascend the sky,
+And pull descending vengeance from on high.
+Not such, my friend, the servants of their feast:
+A blooming train in rich embroidery dress'd,
+With earth's whole tribute the bright table bends,
+And smiling round celestial youth attends.
+Stay, then: no eye askance beholds thee here;
+Sweet is thy converse to each social ear;
+Well pleased, and pleasing, in our cottage rest,
+Till good Telemachus accepts his guest
+With genial gifts, and change of fair attires,
+And safe conveys thee where thy soul desires."
+
+To him the man of woes; "O gracious Jove!
+Reward this stranger's hospitable love!
+Who knows the son of sorrow to relieve,
+Cheers the sad heart, nor lets affliction grieve.
+Of all the ills unhappy mortals know,
+A life of wanderings is the greatest woe;
+On all their weary ways wait care and pain,
+And pine and penury, a meagre train.
+To such a man since harbour you afford,
+Relate the farther fortunes of your lord;
+What cares his mother's tender breast engage,
+And sire forsaken on the verge of age;
+Beneath the sun prolong they yet their breath,
+Or range the house of darkness and of death?"
+
+To whom the swain: "Attend what you enquire;
+Laertes lives, the miserable sire,
+Lives, but implores of every power to lay
+The burden down, and wishes for the day.
+Torn from his offspring in the eve of life,
+Torn from the embraces of his tender wife,
+Sole, and all comfortless, he wastes away
+Old age, untimely posting ere his day.
+She too, sad mother! for Ulysses lost
+Pined out her bloom, and vanish'd to a ghost;
+(So dire a fate, ye righteous gods! avert
+From every friendly, every feeling heart!)
+While yet she was, though clouded o'er with grief.
+Her pleasing converse minister'd relief:
+With Climene, her youngest daughter, bred,
+One roof contain'd us, and one table fed.
+But when the softly-stealing pace of time
+Crept on from childhood into youthful prime,
+To Samos' isle she sent the wedded fair;
+Me to the fields; to tend the rural care;
+Array'd in garments her own hands had wove,
+Nor less the darling object of her love.
+Her hapless death my brighter days o'ercast,
+Yet Providence deserts me not at last;
+My present labours food and drink procure,
+And more, the pleasure to relieve the poor.
+Small is the comfort from the queen to hear
+Unwelcome news, or vex the royal ear;
+Blank and discountenanced the servants stand,
+Nor dare to question where the proud command;
+No profit springs beneath usurping powers;
+Want feeds not there where luxury devours,
+Nor harbours charity where riot reigns:
+Proud are the lords, and wretched are the swains."
+
+The suffering chief at this began to melt;
+And, "O Eumaeus! thou (he cries) hast felt
+The spite of fortune too! her cruel hand
+Snatch'd thee an infant from thy native land!
+Snatch'd from thy parents' arms, thy parents' eyes,
+To early wants! a man of miseries!
+The whole sad story, from its first, declare:
+Sunk the fair city by the rage of war,
+Where once thy parents dwelt? or did they keep,
+In humbler life, the lowing herds and sheep?
+So left perhaps to tend the fleecy train,
+Rude pirates seized, and shipp'd thee o'er the main?
+Doom'd a fair prize to grace some prince's board,
+The worthy purchase of a foreign lord."
+
+"If then my fortunes can delight my friend,
+A story fruitful of events attend:
+Another's sorrow may thy ears enjoy,
+And wine the lengthen'd intervals employ.
+Long nights the now declining year bestows;
+A part we consecrate to soft repose,
+A part in pleasing talk we entertain;
+For too much rest itself becomes a pain.
+Let those, whom sleep invites, the call obey,
+Their cares resuming with the dawning day:
+Here let us feast, and to the feast be join'd
+Discourse, the sweeter banquet of the mind;
+Review the series of our lives, and taste
+The melancholy joy of evils pass'd:
+For he who much has suffer'd, much will know,
+And pleased remembrance builds delight on woe.
+
+"Above Ortygia lies an isle of fame,
+Far hence remote, and Syria is the name
+(There curious eyes inscribed with wonder trace
+The sun's diurnal, and his annual race);
+Not large, but fruitful; stored with grass to keep
+The bellowing oxen and the bleating sheep;
+Her sloping hills the mantling vines adorn,
+And her rich valleys wave with golden corn.
+No want, no famine, the glad natives know,
+Nor sink by sickness to the shades below;
+But when a length of years unnerves the strong,
+Apollo comes, and Cynthia comes along.
+They bend the silver bow with tender skill,
+And, void of pain, the silent arrows kill.
+Two equal tribes this fertile land divide,
+Where two fair cities rise with equal pride.
+But both in constant peace one prince obey,
+And Ctesius there, my father, holds the sway.
+Freighted, it seems, with toys of every sort,
+A ship of Sidon anchor'd in our port;
+What time it chanced the palace entertain'd,
+Skill'd in rich works, a woman of their land:
+This nymph, where anchor'd the Phoenician train,
+To wash her robes descending to the main,
+A smooth tongued sailor won her to his mind
+(For love deceives the best of womankind).
+A sudden trust from sudden liking grew;
+She told her name, her race, and all she knew,
+'I too (she cried) from glorious Sidon came,
+My father Arybas, of wealthy fame:
+But, snatch'd by pirates from my native place,
+The Taphians sold me to this man's embrace.'
+
+"'Haste then (the false designing youth replied),
+Haste to thy country; love shall be thy guide;
+Haste to thy father's house, thy father's breast,
+For still he lives, and lives with riches blest.'
+
+"'Swear first (she cried), ye sailors! to restore
+A wretch in safety to her native shore.'
+Swift as she ask'd, the ready sailors swore.
+She then proceeds: 'Now let our compact made
+Be nor by signal nor by word betray'd,
+Nor near me any of your crew descried,
+By road frequented, or by fountain side.
+Be silence still our guard. The monarch's spies
+(For watchful age is ready to surmise)
+Are still at hand; and this, revealed, must be
+Death to yourselves, eternal chains to me.
+Your vessel loaded, and your traffic pass'd,
+Despatch a wary messenger with haste;
+Then gold and costly treasures will I bring,
+And more, the infant offspring of the king.
+Him, child-like wandering forth, I'll lead away
+(A noble prize!) and to your ship convey.'
+
+"Thus spoke the dame, and homeward took the road.
+A year they traffic, and their vessel load.
+Their stores complete, and ready now to weigh,
+A spy was sent their summons to convey:
+An artist to my father's palace came,
+With gold and amber chains, elaborate frame:
+Each female eye the glittering links employ;
+They turn, review, and cheapen every toy.
+He took the occasion, as they stood intent,
+Gave her the sign, and to his vessel went.
+She straight pursued, and seized my willing arm;
+I follow'd, smiling, innocent of harm.
+Three golden goblets in the porch she found
+(The guests not enter'd, but the table crown'd);
+Hid in her fraudful bosom these she bore:
+Now set the sun, and darken'd all the shore.
+Arriving then, where tilting on the tides
+Prepared to launch the freighted vessel rides,
+Aboard they heave us, mount their decks, and sweep
+With level oar along the glassy deep.
+Six calmy days and six smooth nights we sail,
+And constant Jove supplied the gentle gale.
+The seventh, the fraudful wretch (no cause descried),
+Touch'd by Diana's vengeful arrow, died.
+Down dropp'd the caitiff-corse, a worthless load,
+Down to the deep; there roll'd, the future food
+Of fierce sea-wolves, and monsters of the flood.
+An helpless infant I remain'd behind;
+Thence borne to Ithaca by wave and wind;
+Sold to Laertes by divine command,
+And now adopted to a foreign land."
+
+To him the king: "Reciting thus thy cares,
+My secret soul in all thy sorrow shares;
+But one choice blessing (such is Jove's high will)
+Has sweeten'd all thy bitter draught of ill:
+Torn from thy country to no hapless end,
+The gods have, in a master, given a friend.
+Whatever frugal nature needs is thine
+(For she needs little), daily bread and wine.
+While I, so many wanderings past, and woes,
+Live but on what thy poverty bestows."
+
+So passed in pleasing dialogue away
+The night; then down to short repose they lay;
+Till radiant rose the messenger of day.
+While in the port of Ithaca, the band
+Of young Telemachus approach'd the land;
+Their sails they loosed, they lash'd the mast aside,
+And cast their anchors, and the cables tied:
+Then on the breezy shore, descending, join
+In grateful banquet o'er the rosy wine.
+When thus the prince: "Now each his course pursue;
+I to the fields, and to the city you.
+Long absent hence, I dedicate this day
+My swains to visit, and the works survey.
+Expect me with the morn, to pay the skies
+Our debt of safe return in feast and sacrifice."
+
+Then Theoclymenus: "But who shall lend,
+Meantime, protection to thy stranger friend?
+Straight to the queen and palace shall I fly,
+Or yet more distant, to some lord apply?"
+
+The prince return'd: "Renown'd in days of yore
+Has stood our father's hospitable door;
+No other roof a stranger should receive,
+No other hands than ours the welcome give.
+But in my absence riot fills the place,
+Nor bears the modest queen a stranger's face;
+From noiseful revel far remote she flies,
+But rarely seen, or seen with weeping eyes.
+No--let Eurymachus receive my guest,
+Of nature courteous, and by far the best;
+He woos the queen with more respectful flame,
+And emulates her former husband's fame,
+With what success, 'tis Jove's alone to know,
+And the hoped nuptials turn to joy or woe."
+
+Thus speaking, on the right up-soar'd in air
+The hawk, Apollo's swift-wing'd messenger:
+His dreadful pounces tore a trembling dove;
+The clotted feathers, scatter'd from above,
+Between the hero and the vessel pour
+Thick plumage mingled with a sanguine shower.
+
+The observing augur took the prince aside,
+Seized by the hand, and thus prophetic cried:
+"Yon bird, that dexter cuts the aerial road,
+Rose ominous, nor flies without a god:
+No race but thine shall Ithaca obey,
+To thine, for ages, Heaven decrees the sway."
+
+"Succeed the omens, gods! (the youth rejoin'd:)
+Soon shall my bounties speak a grateful mind,
+And soon each envied happiness attend
+The man who calls Telemachus his friend."
+Then to Peiraeus: "Thou whom time has proved
+A faithful servant, by thy prince beloved!
+Till we returning shall our guest demand,
+Accept this charge with honour, at our hand."
+
+To this Peiraeus: "Joyful I obey,
+Well pleased the hospitable rites to pay.
+The presence of thy guest shall best reward
+(If long thy stay) the absence of my lord."
+
+With that, their anchors he commands to weigh,
+Mount the tall bark, and launch into the sea.
+All with obedient haste forsake the shores,
+And, placed in order, spread their equal oars.
+Then from the deck the prince his sandals takes;
+Poised in his hand the pointed javelin shakes.
+They part; while, lessening from the hero's view
+Swift to the town the well-row'd galley flew:
+The hero trod the margin of the main,
+And reach'd the mansion of his faithful swain.
+
+
+
+BOOK XVI.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+THE DISCOVERY OF ULYSSES TO TELEMACHUS.
+
+Telemachus arriving at the lodge of Eumaeus, sends him to carry
+Penelope the news of his return. Minerva appearing to Ulysses,
+commands him to discover himself to his son. The princes, who had
+lain in ambush to intercept Telemachus in his way, their project
+being defeated, return to Ithaca.
+
+
+
+Soon as the morning blush'd along the plains,
+Ulysses, and the monarch of the swains,
+Awake the sleeping fires, their meals prepare,
+And forth to pasture send the bristly care.
+The prince's near approach the dogs descry,
+And fawning round his feet confess their joy.
+Their gentle blandishment the king survey'd,
+Heard his resounding step, and instant said:
+
+"Some well-known friend, Eumaeus, bends this way;
+His steps I hear; the dogs familiar play."
+
+While yet he spoke, the prince advancing drew
+Nigh to the lodge, and now appear'd in view.
+Transported from his seat Eumaeus sprung,
+Dropp'd the full bowl, and round his bosom hung;
+Kissing his cheek, his hand, while from his eye
+The tears rain'd copious in a shower of joy,
+As some fond sire who ten long winters grieves,
+From foreign climes an only son receives
+(Child of his age), with strong paternal joy,
+Forward he springs, and clasps the favourite boy:
+So round the youth his arms Eumaeus spread,
+As if the grave had given him from the dead.
+
+"And is it thou? my ever-dear delight!
+Oh, art thou come to bless my longing sight?
+Never, I never hoped to view this day,
+When o'er the waves you plough'd the desperate way.
+Enter, my child! Beyond my hopes restored,
+Oh give these eyes to feast upon their lord.
+Enter, oh seldom seen! for lawless powers
+Too much detain thee from these sylvan bowers,"
+The prince replied: "Eumaeus, I obey;
+To seek thee, friend, I hither took my way.
+But say, if in the court the queen reside
+Severely chaste, or if commenced a bride?"
+
+Thus he; and thus the monarch of the swains:
+"Severely chaste Penelope remains;
+But, lost to every joy, she wastes the day
+In tedious cares, and weeps the night away."
+
+He ended, and (receiving as they pass
+The javelin pointed with a star of brass),
+They reach'd the dome; the dome with marble shined.
+His seat Ulysses to the prince resign'd.
+"Not so (exclaims the prince with decent grace)
+For me, this house shall find an humbler place:
+To usurp the honours due to silver hairs
+And reverend strangers modest youth forbears."
+Instant the swain the spoils of beasts supplies,
+And bids the rural throne with osiers rise.
+There sate the prince: the feast Eumaeus spread,
+And heap'd the shining canisters with bread.
+Thick o'er the board the plenteous viands lay,
+The frugal remnants of the former day.
+Then in a bowl he tempers generous wines,
+Around whose verge a mimic ivy twines.
+And now, the rage of thirst and hunger fled,
+Thus young Ulysses to Eumaeus said:
+
+"Whence, father, from what shore this stranger, say?
+What vessel bore him o'er the watery way?
+To human step our land impervious lies,
+And round the coast circumfluent oceans rise."
+
+The swain returns: "A tale of sorrows hear:
+In spacious Crete he drew his natal air;
+Long doom'd to wander o'er the land and main,
+For Heaven has wove his thread of life with pain.
+Half breathless 'scaping to the land he flew
+From Thesprot mariners, a murderous crew.
+To thee, my son, the suppliant I resign;
+I gave him my protection, grant him thine."
+
+"Hard task (he cries) thy virtue gives thy friend,
+Willing to aid, unable to defend.
+Can strangers safely in the court reside,
+'Midst the swell'd insolence of lust and pride?
+E'en I unsafe: the queen in doubt to wed,
+Or pay due honours to the nuptial bed.
+Perhaps she weds regardless of her fame,
+Deaf to the mighty Ulyssean name.
+However, stranger! from our grace receive
+Such honours as befit a prince to give;
+Sandals, a sword and robes, respect to prove,
+And safe to sail with ornaments of love.
+Till then, thy guest amid the rural train,
+Far from the court, from danger far, detain.
+'Tis mine with food the hungry to supply,
+And clothe the naked from the inclement sky.
+Here dwell in safety from the suitors' wrongs,
+And the rude insults of ungovern'd tongues.
+For should'st thou suffer, powerless to relieve,
+I must behold it, and can only grieve.
+The brave, encompass'd by an hostile train,
+O'erpower'd by numbers, is but brave in vain."
+
+To whom, while anger in his bosom glows,
+With warmth replies the man of mighty woes:
+"Since audience mild is deign'd, permit my tongue
+At once to pity and resent thy wrong.
+My heart weeps blood to see a soul so brave
+Live to base insolence or power a slave,
+But tell me, dost thou, prince, dost thou behold,
+And hear their midnight revels uncontroll'd?
+Say, do thy subjects in bold faction rise,
+Or priests in fabled oracles advise?
+Or are thy brothers, who should aid thy power,
+Turn'd mean deserters in the needful hour?
+Oh that I were from great Ulysses sprung,
+Or that these wither'd nerves like thine were strung,
+Or, heavens! might he return! (and soon appear
+He shall, I trust; a hero scorns despair:)
+Might he return, I yield my life a prey
+To my worst foe, if that avenging day
+Be not their last: but should I lose my life,
+Oppress'd by numbers in the glorious strife,
+I chose the nobler part, and yield my breath,
+Rather than bear dishonor, worse than death;
+Than see the hand of violence invade
+The reverend stranger and the spotless maid;
+Than see the wealth of kings consumed in waste,
+The drunkard's revel, and the gluttons' feast."
+
+Thus he, with anger flashing from his eye;
+Sincere the youthful hero made reply:
+"Nor leagued in factious arms my subjects rise,
+Nor priests in fabled oracles advise;
+Nor are my brothers, who should aid my power,
+Turn'd mean deserters in the needful hour.
+Ah me! I boast no brother; heaven's dread King
+Gives from our stock an only branch to spring:
+Alone Laertes reign'd Arcesius' heir,
+Alone Ulysses drew the vital air,
+And I alone the bed connubial graced,
+An unbless'd offspring of a sire unbless'd!
+Each neighbouring realm, conducive to our woe,
+Sends forth her peers, and every peer a foe:
+The court proud Samos and Dulichium fills,
+And lofty Zacinth crown'd with shady hills.
+E'en Ithaca and all her lords invade
+The imperial sceptre, and the regal bed:
+The queen, averse to love, yet awed by power,
+Seems half to yield, yet flies the bridal hour:
+Meantime their licence uncontroll'd I bear;
+E'en now they envy me the vital air:
+But Heaven will sure revenge, and gods there are.
+
+"But go Eumaeus! to the queen impart
+Our safe return, and ease a mother's heart.
+Yet secret go; for numerous are my foes,
+And here at least I may in peace repose."
+
+To whom the swain: "I hear and I obey:
+But old Laertes weeps his life away,
+And deems thee lost: shall I speed employ
+To bless his age: a messenger of joy?
+The mournful hour that tore his son away
+Sent the sad sire in solitude to stray;
+Yet busied with his slaves, to ease his woe,
+He dress'd the vine, and bade the garden blow,
+Nor food nor wine refused; but since the day
+That you to Pylos plough'd the watery way,
+Nor wine nor food he tastes; but, sunk in woes,
+Wild springs the vine, no more the garden blows,
+Shut from the walks of men, to pleasure lost,
+Pensive and pale he wanders half a ghost."
+
+"Wretched old man! (with tears the prince returns)
+Yet cease to go--what man so blest but mourns?
+Were every wish indulged by favouring skies,
+This hour should give Ulysses to my eyes.
+But to the queen with speed dispatchful bear,
+Our safe return, and back with speed repair;
+And let some handmaid of her train resort
+To good Laertes in his rural court."
+
+While yet he spoke, impatient of delay,
+He braced his sandals on, and strode away:
+Then from the heavens the martial goddess flies
+Through the wild fields of air, and cleaves the skies:
+In form, a virgin in soft beauty's bloom,
+Skill'd in the illustrious labours of the loom.
+Alone to Ithaca she stood display'd,
+But unapparent as a viewless shade
+Escaped Telemachus (the powers above,
+Seen or unseen, o'er earth at pleasure move):
+The dogs intelligent confess'd the tread
+Of power divine, and howling, trembling, fled.
+The goddess, beckoning, waves her deathless hands:
+Dauntless the king before the goddess stands:
+
+"Then why (she said), O favour'd of the skies!
+Why to thy godlike son this long disguise?
+Stand forth reveal'd; with him thy cares employ
+Against thy foes; be valiant and destroy!
+Lo! I descend in that avenging hour,
+To combat by thy side, thy guardian power."
+
+She said, and o'er him waves her wand of gold
+Imperial robes his manly limbs infold;
+At once with grace divine his frame improves;
+At once with majesty enlarged he moves:
+Youth flush'd his reddening cheek, and from his brows
+A length of hair in sable ringlets flows;
+His blackening chin receives a deeper shade;
+Then from his eyes upsprung the warrior-maid.
+
+The hero reascends: the prince o'erawed
+Scarce lifts his eyes, and bows as to a god,
+Then with surprise (surprise chastised by fears):
+"How art thou changed! (he cried)--a god appears!
+Far other vests thy limbs majestic grace,
+Far other glories lighten from thy face!
+If heaven be thy abode, with pious care,
+Lo! I the ready sacrifice prepare:
+Lo! gifts of labour'd gold adorn thy shrine,
+To win thy grace: O save us, power divine!"
+
+"Few are my days (Ulysses made reply),
+Nor I, alas! descendant of the sky.
+I am thy father. O my son! my son!
+That father, for whose sake thy days have run
+One scene of woe! to endless cares consign'd,
+And outraged by the wrongs of base mankind."
+
+Then, rushing to his arms, he kiss'd his boy
+With the strong raptures of a parent's joy.
+Tears bathe his cheek, and tears the ground bedew:
+He strain'd him close, as to his breast he grew.
+"Ah me! (exclaims the prince with fond desire)
+Thou art not--no, thou canst not be my sire.
+Heaven such illusion only can impose,
+By the false joy to aggravate my woes.
+Who but a god can change the general doom,
+And give to wither'd age a youthful bloom!
+Late, worn with years, in weeds obscene you trod;
+Now, clothed in majesty, you move a god!"
+
+"Forbear (he cried,) for Heaven reserve that name;
+Give to thy father but a father's claim;
+Other Ulysses shalt thou never see,
+I am Ulysses, I, my son, am he.
+Twice ten sad years o'er earth and ocean toss'd,
+'Tis given at length to view my native coast.
+Pallas, unconquer'd maid, my frame surrounds
+With grace divine: her power admits no bounds;
+She o'er my limbs old age and wrinkles shed;
+Now strong as youth, magnificent I tread.
+The gods with ease frail man depress or raise,
+Exalt the lowly, or the proud debase."
+
+He spoke and sate. The prince with transport flew,
+Hung round his neck, while tears his cheek bedew;
+Nor less the father pour'd a social flood;
+They wept abundant, and they wept aloud.
+As the bold eagle with fierce sorrow stung,
+Or parent vulture, mourns her ravish'd young;
+They cry, they scream, their unfledged brood a prey
+To some rude churl, and borne by stealth away:
+So they aloud: and tears in tides had run,
+Their grief unfinish'd with the setting sun;
+But checking the full torrent in its flow,
+The prince thus interrupts the solemn woe.
+"What ship transported thee, O father, say;
+And what bless'd hands have oar'd thee on the way?"
+
+"All, all (Ulysses instant made reply),
+I tell thee all, my child, my only joy!
+Phaeacians bore me to the port assign'd,
+A nation ever to the stranger kind;
+Wrapp'd in the embrace of sleep, the faithful train
+O'er seas convey'd me to my native reign:
+Embroider'd vestures, gold, and brass, are laid
+Conceal'd in caverns in the sylvan shade.
+Hither, intent the rival rout to slay,
+And plan the scene of death, I bend my way;
+So Pallas wills--but thou, my son, explain
+The names and numbers of the audacious train;
+'Tis mine to judge if better to employ
+Assistant force, or singly to destroy."
+
+"O'er earth (returns the prince) resounds thy name,
+Thy well-tried wisdom, and thy martial fame,
+Yet at thy words I start, in wonder lost;
+Can we engage, not decades but an host?
+Can we alone in furious battle stand,
+Against that numerous and determined band?
+Hear then their numbers; from Dulichium came
+Twice twenty-six, all peers of mighty name.
+Six are their menial train: twice twelve the boast
+Of Samos; twenty from Zacynthus' coast:
+And twelve our country's pride; to these belong
+Medon and Phemius, skill'd in heavenly song.
+Two sewers from day to day the revels wait,
+Exact of taste, and serve the feast in state.
+With such a foe the unequal fight to try,
+Were by false courage unrevenged to die.
+Then what assistant powers you boast relate,
+Ere yet we mingle in the stern debate."
+
+"Mark well my voice, (Ulysses straight replies:)
+What need of aids, if favour'd by the skies?
+If shielded to the dreadful fight we move,
+By mighty Pallas, and by thundering Jove?"
+
+"Sufficient they (Telemachus rejoin'd)
+Against the banded powers of all mankind:
+They, high enthroned above the rolling clouds,
+Wither the strength of man, and awe the gods."
+
+"Such aids expect (he cries,) when strong in might
+We rise terrific to the task of fight.
+But thou, when morn salutes the aerial plain,
+The court revisit and the lawless train:
+Me thither in disguise Eumaeus leads,
+An aged mendicant in tatter'd weeds.
+There, if base scorn insult my reverend age,
+Bear it, my son! repress thy rising rage.
+If outraged, cease that outrage to repel;
+Bear it, my son! howe'er thy heart rebel.
+Yet strive by prayer and counsel to restrain
+Their lawless insults, though thou strive in vain:
+For wicked ears are deaf to wisdom's call,
+And vengeance strikes whom Heaven has doom'd to fall.
+Once more attend: when she whose power inspires
+The thinking mind, my soul to vengeance fires,
+I give the sign: that instant, from beneath,
+Aloft convey the instruments of death,
+Armour and arms; and, if mistrust arise,
+Thus veil the truth in plausible disguise:
+
+"'These glittering weapons, ere he sail'd to Troy,
+Ulysses view'd with stern heroic joy:
+Then, beaming o'er the illumined wall they shone;
+Now dust dishonours, all their lustre gone.
+I bear them hence (so Jove my soul inspires),
+From the pollution of the fuming fires;
+Lest when the bowl inflames, in vengeful mood
+Ye rush to arms, and stain the feast with blood:
+Oft ready swords in luckless hour incite
+The hand of wrath, and arm it for the fight.'
+
+"Such be the plea, and by the plea deceive:
+For Jove infatuates all, and all believe.
+Yet leave for each of us a sword to wield,
+A pointed javelin, and a fenceful shield.
+But by my blood that in thy bosom glows,
+By that regard a son his father owes;
+The secret, that thy father lives, retain
+Lock'd in thy bosom from the household train;
+Hide it from all; e'en from Eumaeus hide,
+From my dear father, and my dearer bride.
+One care remains, to note the loyal few
+Whose faith yet lasts among the menial crew;
+And noting, ere we rise in vengeance, prove
+Who love his prince; for sure you merit love."
+
+To whom the youth: "To emulate, I aim,
+The brave and wise, and my great father's fame.
+But reconsider, since the wisest err,
+Vengeance resolved, 'tis dangerous to defer.
+What length of time must we consume in vain,
+Too curious to explore the menial train!
+While the proud foes, industrious to destroy
+Thy wealth, in riot the delay enjoy.
+Suffice it in this exigence alone
+To mark the damsels that attend the throne:
+Dispersed the youth reside; their faith to prove
+Jove grants henceforth, if thou hast spoke from Jove."
+
+While in debate they waste the hours away,
+The associates of the prince repass'd the bay:
+With speed they guide the vessel to the shores;
+With speed debarking land the naval stores:
+Then, faithful to their charge, to Clytius bear,
+And trust the presents to his friendly care.
+Swift to the queen a herald flies to impart
+Her son's return, and ease a parent's heart:
+Lest a sad prey to ever-musing cares,
+Pale grief destroy what time awhile forbears.
+The incautious herald with impatience burns,
+And cries aloud, "Thy son, O queen, returns;"
+Eumaeus sage approach'd the imperial throne,
+And breathed his mandate to her ear alone,
+Then measured back the way. The suitor band,
+Stung to the soul, abash'd, confounded, stand;
+And issuing from the dome, before the gate,
+With clouded looks, a pale assembly sate.
+
+At length Eurymachus: "Our hopes are vain;
+Telemachus in triumph sails the main.
+Haste, rear the mast, the swelling shroud display;
+Haste, to our ambush'd friends the news convey!"
+
+Scarce had he spake, when, turning to the strand,
+Amphinomos survey'd the associate band;
+Full to the bay within the winding shores
+With gather'd sails they stood, and lifted oars.
+"O friends!" he cried, elate with rising joy,
+"See to the port secure the vessel fly!
+Some god has told them, or themselves survey
+The bark escaped; and measure back their way."
+
+Swift at the word descending to the shores,
+They moor the vessel and unlade the stores:
+Then, moving from the strand, apart they sate,
+And full and frequent form'd a dire debate.
+
+"Lives then the boy? he lives (Antinous cries),
+The care of gods and favourite of the skies.
+All night we watch'd, till with her orient wheels
+Aurora flamed above the eastern hills,
+And from the lofty brow of rocks by day
+Took in the ocean with a broad survey
+Yet safe he sails; the powers celestial give
+To shun the hidden snares of death, and live.
+But die he shall, and thus condemn'd to bleed,
+Be now the scene of instant death decreed.
+Hope ye success? undaunted crush the foe.
+Is he not wise? know this, and strike the blow.
+Wait ye, till he to arms in council draws
+The Greeks, averse too justly to our cause?
+Strike, ere, the states convened, the foe betray
+Our murderous ambush on the watery way.
+Or choose ye vagrant from their rage to fly,
+Outcasts of earth, to breathe an unknown sky?
+The brave prevent misfortune; then be brave,
+And bury future danger in his grave.
+Returns he? ambush'd we'll his walk invade,
+Or where he hides in solitude and shade;
+And give the palace to the queen a dower,
+Or him she blesses in the bridal hour.
+But if submissive you resign the sway,
+Slaves to a boy, go, flatter and obey.
+Retire we instant to our native reign,
+Nor be the wealth of kings consumed in vain;
+Then wed whom choice approves: the queen be given
+To some blest prince, the prince decreed by Heaven."
+
+Abash'd, the suitor train his voice attends;
+Till from his throne Amphinomus ascends,
+Who o'er Dulichium stretch'd his spacious reign,
+A land of plenty, bless'd with every grain:
+Chief of the numbers who the queen address'd,
+And though displeasing, yet displeasing least.
+Soft were his words; his actions wisdom sway'd;
+Graceful awhile he paused, then mildly said:
+
+"O friends, forbear! and be the thought withstood:
+'Tis horrible to shed imperial blood!
+Consult we first the all-seeing powers above,
+And the sure oracles of righteous Jove.
+If they assent, e'en by this hand he dies;
+If they forbid, I war not with the skies."
+
+He said: the rival train his voice approved,
+And rising instant to the palace moved.
+Arrived, with wild tumultuous noise they sate,
+Recumbent on the shining thrones of state.
+
+The Medon, conscious of their dire debates,
+The murderous counsel to the queen relates.
+Touch'd at the dreadful story, she descends:
+Her hasty steps a damsel train attends.
+Full where the dome its shining valves expands,
+Sudden before the rival powers she stands;
+And, veiling, decent, with a modest shade
+Her cheek, indignant to Antinous said:
+
+"O void of faith! of all bad men the worst!
+Renown'd for wisdom, by the abuse accursed!
+Mistaking fame proclaims thy generous mind:
+Thy deeds denote thee of the basest kind.
+Wretch! to destroy a prince that friendship gives,
+While in his guest his murderer he receives;
+Nor dread superior Jove, to whom belong
+The cause of suppliants, and revenge of wrong.
+Hast thou forgot, ungrateful as thou art,
+Who saved thy father with a friendly part?
+Lawless he ravaged with his martial powers
+The Taphian pirates on Thesprotia's shores;
+Enraged, his life, his treasures they demand;
+Ulysses saved him from the avenger's hand.
+And would'st thou evil for his good repay?
+His bed dishonour, and his house betray?
+Afflict his queen, and with a murderous hand
+Destroy his heir!--but cease, 'tis I command."
+
+"Far hence those fears (Eurymachus replied,)
+O prudent princess! bid thy soul confide.
+Breathes there a man who dares that hero slay,
+While I behold the golden light of day?
+No: by the righteous powers of heaven I swear,
+His blood in vengeance smokes upon my spear.
+Ulysses, when my infant days I led,
+With wine sufficed me, and with dainties fed:
+My generous soul abhors the ungrateful part,
+And my friend's son lives nearest to my heart.
+Then fear no mortal arm; if Heaven destroy,
+We must resign: for man is born to die."
+
+Thus smooth he ended, yet his death conspired:
+Then sorrowing, with sad step the queen retired,
+With streaming eyes, all comfortless deplored,
+Touch'd with the dear remembrance of her lord:
+Nor ceased till Pallas bids her sorrows fly,
+And in soft slumber seal'd her flowing eye.
+
+And now Eumaeus, at the evening hour,
+Came late, returning to his sylvan bower.
+Ulysses and his son had dress'd with art
+A yearling boar, and gave the gods their part.
+Holy repast! That instant from the skies
+The martial goddess to Ulysses flies:
+She waves her golden wand, and reassumes
+From every feature every grace that blooms;
+At once his vestures change; at once she sheds
+Age o'er his limbs, that tremble as he treads:
+Lest to the queen the swain with transport fly,
+Unable to contain the unruly joy;
+When near he drew, the prince breaks forth: "Proclaim
+What tidings, friend? what speaks the voice of fame?
+Say, if the suitors measure back the main,
+Or still in ambush thirst for blood in vain?"
+
+"Whether (he cries) they measure back the flood,
+Or still in ambush thirst in vain for blood,
+Escaped my care: where lawless suitors sway,
+Thy mandate borne my soul disdain'd to stay.
+But from the Hermaean height I cast a view,
+Where to the port a bark high-bounding flew;
+Her freight a shining band: with martial air
+Each poised his shield, and each advanced his spear;
+And, if aright these searching eyes survey,
+The eluded suitors stem the watery way."
+
+The prince, well pleased to disappoint their wiles,
+Steals on his sire a glance, and secret smiles.
+And now, a short repast prepared, they fed
+Till the keen rage of craving hunger fled:
+Then to repose withdrawn, apart they lay,
+And in soft sleep forgot the cares of day.
+
+
+
+BOOK XVII.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+Telemachus returning to the city, relates to Penelope the sum of
+his travels. Ulysses is conducted by Eumaeus to the palace, where
+his old dog Argus acknowledges his master, after an absence of
+twenty years, and dies with joy. Eumaeus returns into the country,
+and Ulysses remains among the suitors, whose behaviour is
+described.
+
+
+
+Soon as Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
+Sprinkled with roseate light the dewy lawn,
+In haste the prince arose, prepared to part;
+His hand impatient grasps the pointed dart;
+Fair on his feet the polish'd sandals shine,
+And thus he greets the master of the swine:
+
+"My friend, adieu! let this short stay suffice;
+I haste to meet my mother's longing eyes,
+And end her tears, her sorrows and her sighs.
+But thou, attentive, what we order heed:
+This hapless stranger to the city lead:
+By public bounty let him there be fed,
+And bless the hand that stretches forth the bread.
+To wipe the tears from all afflicted eyes,
+My will may covet, but my power denies.
+If this raise anger in the stranger's thought,
+The pain of anger punishes the fault:
+The very truth I undisguised declare;
+For what so easy as to be sincere?"
+
+To this Ulysses: "What the prince requires
+Of swift removal, seconds my desires.
+To want like mine the peopled town can yield
+More hopes of comfort than the lonely field:
+Nor fits my age to till the labour'd lands,
+Or stoop to tasks a rural lord demands.
+Adieu! but since this ragged garb can bear
+So ill the inclemencies of morning air,
+A few hours' space permit me here to stay:
+My steps Eumaeus shall to town convey,
+With riper beams when Phoebus warms the day."
+
+Thus he: nor aught Telemachus replied,
+But left the mansion with a lofty stride:
+Schemes of revenge his pondering breast elate,
+Revolving deep the suitors' sudden fate,
+Arriving now before the imperial hall,
+He props his spear against the pillar'd wall;
+Then like a lion o'er the threshold bounds;
+The marble pavement with his steps resounds:
+His eye first glanced where Euryclea spreads
+With furry spoils of beasts the splendid beds:
+She saw, she wept, she ran with eager pace,
+And reach'd her master with a long embrace.
+All crowded round, the family appears
+With wild entrancement, and ecstatic tears.
+Swift from above descends the royal fair
+(Her beauteous cheeks the blush of Venus wear,
+Chasten'd with coy Diana's pensive air);
+Hangs o'er her son, in his embraces dies;
+Rains kisses on his neck, his face, his eyes:
+Few words she spoke, though much she had to say;
+And scarce those few, for tears, could force their way.
+
+"Light of my eyes: he comes! unhoped-for joy!
+Has Heaven from Pylos brought my lovely boy?
+So snatch'd from all our cares!--Tell, hast thou known
+Thy father's fate, and tell me all thy own."
+
+"Oh dearest! most revered of womankind!
+Cease with those tears to melt a manly mind
+(Replied the prince); nor be our fates deplored,
+From death and treason to thy arms restored.
+Go bathe, and robed in white ascend the towers;
+With all thy handmaids thank the immortal powers;
+To every god vow hecatombs to bleed.
+And call Jove's vengeance on their guilty deed.
+While to the assembled council I repair:
+A stranger sent by Heaven attends me there;
+My new accepted guest I haste to find,
+Now to Peiraeus' honour'd charge consign'd."
+
+The matron heard, nor was his word in vain.
+She bathed; and, robed in white, with all her train,
+To every god vow'd hecatombs to bleed,
+And call'd Jove's vengeance on the guilty deed,
+Arm'd with his lance, the prince then pass'd the gate,
+Two dogs behind, a faithful guard, await;
+Pallas his form with grace divine improves:
+The gazing crowd admires him as he moves.
+Him, gathering round, the haughty suitors greet
+With semblance fair, but inward deep deceit,
+Their false addresses, generous, he denied.
+Pass'd on, and sate by faithful Mentor's side;
+With Antiphus, and Halitherses sage
+(His father's counsellors, revered for age).
+Of his own fortunes, and Ulysses' fame,
+Much ask'd the seniors; till Peiraeus came.
+The stranger-guest pursued him close behind;
+Whom when Telemachus beheld, he join'd.
+He (when Peiraeus ask'd for slaves to bring
+The gifts and treasures of the Spartan king)
+Thus thoughtful answer'd: "Those we shall not move,
+Dark and unconscious of the will of Jove;
+We know not yet the full event of all:
+Stabb'd in his palace if your prince must fall,
+Us, and our house, if treason must o'erthrow,
+Better a friend possess them than a foe;
+If death to these, and vengeance Heaven decree,
+Riches are welcome then, not else, to me.
+Till then retain the gifts."--The hero said,
+And in his hand the willing stranger led.
+Then disarray'd, the shining bath they sought
+(With unguents smooth) of polish'd marble wrought:
+Obedient handmaids with assistant toil
+Supply the limpid wave, and fragrant oil:
+Then o'er their limbs refulgent robes they threw,
+And fresh from bathing to their seats withdrew.
+The golden ewer a nymph attendant brings,
+Replenish'd from the pure translucent springs;
+With copious streams that golden ewer supplies
+A silver layer of capacious size.
+They wash: the table, in fair order spread,
+Is piled with viands and the strength of bread.
+Full opposite, before the folding gate,
+The pensive mother sits in humble state;
+Lowly she sate, and with dejected view
+The fleecy threads her ivory fingers drew.
+The prince and stranger shared the genial feast,
+Till now the rage of thirst and hunger ceased.
+
+When thus the queen: "My son! my only friend!
+Say, to my mournful couch shall I ascend?
+(The couch deserted now a length of years;
+The couch for ever water'd with my tears;)
+Say, wilt thou not (ere yet the suitor crew
+Return, and riot shakes our walls anew),
+Say, wilt thou not the least account afford?
+The least glad tidings of my absent lord?"
+
+To her the youth. "We reach'd the Pylian plains,
+Where Nestor, shepherd of his people, reigns.
+All arts of tenderness to him are known,
+Kind to Ulysses' race as to his own;
+No father with a fonder grasp of joy
+Strains to his bosom his long-absent boy.
+But all unknown, if yet Ulysses breathe,
+Or glide a spectre in the realms beneath;
+For farther search, his rapid steeds transport
+My lengthen'd journey to the Spartan court.
+There Argive Helen I beheld, whose charms
+(So Heaven decreed) engaged the great in arms.
+My cause of coming told, he thus rejoin'd;
+And still his words live perfect in my mind:
+
+"'Heavens! would a soft, inglorious, dastard train
+An absent hero's nuptial joys profane
+So with her young, amid the woodland shades,
+A timorous hind the lion's court invades,
+Leaves in that fatal lair her tender fawns,
+And climbs the cliffs, or feeds along the lawns;
+Meantime returning, with remorseless sway
+The monarch savage rends the panting prey:
+With equal fury, and with equal fame,
+Shall great Ulysses reassert his claim.
+O Jove! supreme! whom men and gods revere;
+And thou whose lustre gilds the rolling sphere!
+With power congenial join'd, propitious aid
+The chief adopted by the martial maid!
+Such to our wish the warrior soon restore,
+As when, contending on the Lesbian shore,
+His prowess Philomelides confess'd,
+And loud acclaiming Greeks the victor bless'd:
+Then soon the invaders of his bed, and throne,
+Their love presumptuous shall by death atone.
+Now what you question of my ancient friend,
+With truth I answer; thou the truth attend.
+Learn what I heard the sea-born seer relate,
+Whose eye can pierce the dark recess of fate
+Sole in an isle, imprison'd by the main,
+The sad survivor of his numerous train,
+Ulysses lies; detain'd by magic charms,
+And press'd unwilling in Calypso's arms.
+No sailors there, no vessels to convey,
+No oars to cut the immeasurable way.'
+This told Atrides, and he told no more.
+Then safe I voyaged to my native shore."
+
+He ceased; nor made the pensive queen reply,
+But droop'd her head, and drew a secret sigh.
+When Theoclymenus the seer began:
+"O suffering consort of the suffering man!
+What human knowledge could, those kings might tell,
+But I the secrets of high heaven reveal.
+Before the first of gods be this declared,
+Before the board whose blessings we have shared;
+Witness the genial rites, and witness all
+This house holds sacred in her ample wall!
+E'en now, this instant, great Ulysses, laid
+At rest, or wandering in his country's shade,
+Their guilty deeds, in hearing, and in view,
+Secret revolves; and plans the vengeance due.
+Of this sure auguries the gods bestow'd,
+When first our vessel anchor'd in your road."
+"Succeed those omens, Heaven! (the queen rejoin'd)
+So shall our bounties speak a grateful mind;
+And every envied happiness attend
+The man who calls Penelope his friend."
+Thus communed they: while in the marble court
+(Scene of their insolence) the lords resort:
+Athwart the spacious square each tries his art,
+To whirl the disk, or aim the missile dart.
+Now did the hour of sweet repast arrive,
+And from the field the victim flocks they drive:
+Medon the herald (one who pleased them best,
+And honour'd with a portion of their feast),
+To bid the banquet, interrupts their play:
+Swift to the hall they haste; aside they lay
+Their garments, and succinct the victims slay.
+Then sheep, and goats, and bristly porkers bled,
+And the proud steer was o'er the marble spread.
+While thus the copious banquet they provide,
+Along the road, conversing side by side,
+Proceed Ulysses and the faithful swain;
+When thus Eumaeus, generous and humane:
+"To town, observant of our lord's behest,
+Now let us speed; my friend no more my guest!
+Yet like myself I wish thee here preferr'd,
+Guard of the flock, or keeper of the herd,
+But much to raise my master's wrath I fear;
+The wrath of princes ever is severe.
+Then heed his will, and be our journey made
+While the broad beams of Phoebus are display'd,
+Or ere brown evening spreads her chilly shade."
+"Just thy advice (the prudent chief rejoin'd),
+And such as suits the dictate of my mind.
+Lead on: but help me to some staff to stay
+My feeble step, since rugged is the way."
+Across his shoulders then the scrip he flung,
+Wide-patch'd, and fasten'd by a twisted thong.
+A staff Eumaeus gave. Along the way
+Cheerly they fare: behind, the keepers stay:
+These with their watchful dogs (a constant guard)
+Supply his absence, and attend the herd.
+And now his city strikes the monarch's eyes,
+Alas! how changed! a man of miseries;
+Propp'd on a staff, a beggar old and bare
+In rags dishonest fluttering with the air!
+Now pass'd the rugged road, they journey down
+The cavern'd way descending to the town,
+Where, from the rock, with liquid drops distils
+A limpid fount; that spread in parting rills
+Its current thence to serve the city brings;
+An useful work, adorn'd by ancient kings.
+Neritus, Ithacus, Polyctor, there,
+In sculptured stone immortalized their care,
+In marble urns received it from above,
+And shaded with a green surrounding grove;
+Where silver alders, in high arches twined,
+Drink the cool stream, and tremble to the wind.
+Beneath, sequester'd to the nymphs, is seen
+A mossy altar, deep embower'd in green;
+Where constant vows by travellers are paid,
+And holy horrors solemnize the shade.
+
+Here with his goats (not vow'd to sacred fame,
+But pamper'd luxury) Melanthias came:
+Two grooms attend him. With an envious look
+He eyed the stranger, and imperious spoke:
+
+"The good old proverb how this pair fulfil!
+One rogue is usher to another still.
+Heaven with a secret principle endued
+Mankind, to seek their own similitude.
+Where goes the swineherd with that ill-look'd guest?
+That giant-glutton, dreadful at a feast!
+Full many a post have those broad shoulders worn,
+From every great man's gate repulsed with scorn:
+To no brave prize aspired the worthless swain,
+'Twas but for scraps he ask'd, and ask'd in vain.
+To beg, than work, he better understands,
+Or we perhaps might take him off thy hands.
+For any office could the slave be good,
+To cleanse the fold, or help the kids to food.
+If any labour those big joints could learn,
+Some whey, to wash his bowels, he might earn.
+To cringe, to whine, his idle hands to spread,
+Is all, by which that graceless maw is fed.
+Yet hear me! if thy impudence but dare
+Approach yon wall, I prophesy thy fare:
+Dearly, full dearly, shalt thou buy thy bread
+With many a footstool thundering at thy head."
+
+He thus: nor insolent of word alone,
+Spurn'd with his rustic heel his king unknown;
+Spurn'd, but not moved: he like a pillar stood,
+Nor stirr'd an inch, contemptuous, from the road:
+Doubtful, or with his staff to strike him dead,
+Or greet the pavement with his worthless head.
+Short was that doubt; to quell his rage inured,
+The hero stood self-conquer'd, and endured.
+But hateful of the wretch, Eumaeus heaved
+His hands obtesting, and this prayer conceived:
+"Daughters of Jove! who from the ethereal bowers
+Descend to swell the springs, and feed the flowers!
+Nymphs of this fountain! to whose sacred names
+Our rural victims mount in blazing flames!
+To whom Ulysses' piety preferr'd
+The yearly firstlings of his flock and herd;
+Succeed my wish, your votary restore:
+Oh, be some god his convoy to our shore!
+Due pains shall punish then this slave's offence,
+And humble all his airs of insolence,
+Who, proudly stalking, leaves the herds at large,
+Commences courtier, and neglects his charge."
+
+"What mutters he? (Melanthius sharp rejoins;)
+This crafty miscreant, big with dark designs?
+The day shall come--nay, 'tis already near--
+When, slave! to sell thee at a price too dear
+Must be my care; and hence transport thee o'er,
+A load and scandal to this happy shore.
+Oh! that as surely great Apollo's dart,
+Or some brave suitor's sword, might pierce the heart
+Of the proud son; as that we stand this hour
+In lasting safety from the father's power!"
+
+So spoke the wretch, but, shunning farther fray,
+Turn'd his proud step, and left them on their way.
+Straight to the feastful palace he repair'd,
+Familiar enter'd, and the banquet shared;
+Beneath Eurymachus, his patron lord,
+He took his place, and plenty heap'd the board.
+
+Meantime they heard, soft circling in the sky
+Sweet airs ascend, and heavenly minstrelsy
+(For Phemius to the lyre attuned the strain):
+Ulysses hearken'd, then address'd the swain:
+
+"Well may this palace admiration claim,
+Great and respondent to the master's fame!
+Stage above stage the imperial structure stands,
+Holds the chief honours, and the town commands:
+High walls and battlements the courts inclose,
+And the strong gates defy a host of foes.
+Far other cares its dwellers now employ;
+The throng'd assembly and the feast of joy:
+I see the smokes of sacrifice aspire,
+And hear (what graces every feast) the lyre."
+
+Then thus Eumaeus: "Judge we which were best;
+Amidst yon revellers a sudden guest
+Choose you to mingle, while behind I stay?
+Or I first entering introduce the way?
+Wait for a space without, but wait not long;
+This is the house of violence and wrong:
+Some rude insult thy reverend age may bear;
+For like their lawless lords the servants are."
+
+"Just is, O friend! thy caution, and address'd
+(Replied the chief, to no unheedful breast:)
+The wrongs and injuries of base mankind
+Fresh to my sense, and always in my mind.
+The bravely-patient to no fortune yields:
+On rolling oceans, and in fighting fields,
+Storms have I pass'd, and many a stern debate;
+And now in humbler scene submit to fate.
+What cannot want? The best she will expose,
+And I am learn'd in all her train of woes;
+She fills with navies, hosts, and loud alarms,
+The sea, the land, and shakes the world with arms!"
+
+Thus, near the gates conferring as they drew,
+Argus, the dog, his ancient master knew:
+He not unconscious of the voice and tread,
+Lifts to the sound his ear, and rears his head;
+Bred by Ulysses, nourish'd at his board,
+But, ah! not fated long to please his lord;
+To him, his swiftness and his strength were vain;
+The voice of glory call'd him o'er the main.
+Till then in every sylvan chase renown'd,
+With Argus, Argus, rung the woods around;
+With him the youth pursued the goat or fawn,
+Or traced the mazy leveret o'er the lawn.
+Now left to man's ingratitude he lay,
+Unhoused, neglected in the public way;
+And where on heaps the rich manure was spread,
+Obscene with reptiles, took his sordid bed.
+
+He knew his lord; he knew, and strove to meet;
+In vain he strove to crawl and kiss his feet;
+Yet (all he could) his tail, his tears, his eyes,
+Salute his master, and confess his joys.
+Soft pity touch'd the mighty master's soul;
+Adown his cheek a tear unbidden stole,
+Stole unperceived: he turn'd his head and dried
+The drop humane: then thus impassion'd cried:
+
+"What noble beast in this abandon'd state
+Lies here all helpless at Ulysses' gate?
+His bulk and beauty speak no vulgar praise:
+If, as he seems, he was in better days,
+Some care his age deserves; or was he prized
+For worthless beauty? therefore now despised;
+Such dogs and men there are, mere things of state;
+And always cherish'd by their friends, the great."
+
+"Not Argus so, (Eumaeus thus rejoin'd,)
+But served a master of a nobler kind,
+Who, never, never shall behold him more!
+Long, long since perish'd on a distant shore!
+Oh had you seen him, vigorous, bold, and young,
+Swift as a stag, and as a lion strong:
+Him no fell savage on the plain withstood,
+None 'scaped him bosom'd in the gloomy wood;
+His eye how piercing, and his scent how true,
+To wind the vapour on the tainted dew!
+Such, when Ulysses left his natal coast:
+Now years unnerve him, and his lord is lost!
+The women keep the generous creature bare,
+A sleek and idle race is all their care:
+The master gone, the servants what restrains?
+Or dwells humanity where riot reigns?
+Jove fix'd it certain, that whatever day
+Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away."
+
+This said, the honest herdsman strode before;
+The musing monarch pauses at the door:
+The dog, whom Fate had granted to behold
+His lord, when twenty tedious years had roll'd,
+Takes a last look, and having seen him, dies;
+So closed for ever faithful Argus' eyes!
+
+And now Telemachus, the first of all,
+Observed Eumaeus entering in the hall;
+Distant he saw, across the shady dome;
+Then gave a sign, and beckon'd him to come:
+There stood an empty seat, where late was placed,
+In order due, the steward of the feast,
+(Who now was busied carving round the board,)
+Eumaeus took, and placed it near his lord.
+Before him instant was the banquet spread,
+And the bright basket piled with loaves of bread.
+
+Next came Ulysses lowly at the door,
+A figure despicable, old, and poor.
+In squalid vests, with many a gaping rent,
+Propp'd or a staff, and trembling as he went.
+Then, resting on the threshold of the gate,
+Against a cypress pillar lean'd his weight
+Smooth'd by the workman to a polish'd plane);
+The thoughtful son beheld, and call'd his swain
+
+"These viands, and this bread, Eumaeus! bear,
+And let yon mendicant our plenty share:
+And let him circle round the suitors' board,
+And try the bounty of each gracious lord.
+Bold let him ask, encouraged thus by me:
+How ill, alas! do want and shame agree!"
+
+His lord's command the faithful servant bears:
+The seeming beggar answers with his prayers:
+"Bless'd be Telemachus! in every deed
+Inspire him. Jove! in every wish succeed!"
+This said, the portion from his son convey'd
+With smiles receiving on his scrip he laid.
+Long has the minstrel swept the sounding wire,
+He fed, and ceased when silence held the lyre.
+Soon as the suitors from the banquet rose,
+Minerva prompts the man of mighty woes
+To tempt their bounties with a suppliant's art,
+And learn the generous from the ignoble heart
+(Not but his soul, resentful as humane,
+Dooms to full vengeance all the offending train);
+With speaking eyes, and voice of plaintive sound,
+Humble he moves, imploring all around.
+The proud feel pity, and relief bestow,
+With such an image touch'd of human woe;
+Inquiring all, their wonder they confess,
+And eye the man, majestic in distress.
+
+While thus they gaze and question with their eyes,
+The bold Melanthius to their thought replies:
+"My lords! this stranger of gigantic port
+The good Eumaeus usher'd to your court.
+Full well I mark'd the features of his face,
+Though all unknown his clime, or noble race."
+
+"And is this present, swineherd! of thy band?
+Bring'st thou these vagrants to infest the land?
+(Returns Antinous with retorted eye)
+Objects uncouth, to check the genial joy.
+Enough of these our court already grace;
+Of giant stomach, and of famish'd face.
+Such guests Eumaeus to his country brings,
+To share our feast, and lead the life of kings."
+
+To whom the hospitable swain rejoins:
+"Thy passion, prince, belies thy knowing mind.
+Who calls, from distant nations to his own,
+The poor, distinguish'd by their wants alone?
+Round the wide world are sought those men divine
+Who public structures raise, or who design;
+Those to whose eyes the gods their ways reveal,
+Or bless with salutary arts to heal;
+But chief to poets such respect belongs,
+By rival nations courted for their songs;
+These states invite, and mighty kings admire,
+Wide as the sun displays his vital fire.
+It is not so with want! how few that feed
+A wretch unhappy, merely for his need!
+Unjust to me, and all that serve the state,
+To love Ulysses is to raise thy hate.
+For me, suffice the approbation won
+Of my great mistress, and her godlike son."
+
+To him Telemachus: "No more incense
+The man by nature prone to insolence:
+Injurious minds just answers but provoke"--
+Then turning to Antinous, thus he spoke:
+"Thanks to thy care! whose absolute command
+Thus drives the stranger from our court and land.
+Heaven bless its owner with a better mind!
+From envy free, to charity inclined.
+This both Penelope and I afford:
+Then, prince! be bounteous of Ulysses' board.
+To give another's is thy hand so slow?
+So much more sweet to spoil than to bestow?"
+
+"Whence, great Telemachus! this lofty strain?
+(Antinous cries with insolent disdain):
+Portions like mine if every suitor gave,
+Our walls this twelvemonth should not see the slave."
+
+He spoke, and lifting high above the board
+His ponderous footstool, shook it at his lord.
+The rest with equal hand conferr'd the bread:
+He fill'd his scrip, and to the threshold sped;
+But first before Antinous stopp'd, and said:
+"Bestow, my friend! thou dost not seem the worst
+Of all the Greeks, but prince-like and the first;
+Then, as in dignity, be first in worth,
+And I shall praise thee through the boundless earth.
+Once I enjoy'd in luxury of state
+Whate'er gives man the envied name of great;
+Wealth, servants, friends, were mine in better days
+And hospitality was then my praise;
+In every sorrowing soul I pour'd delight,
+And poverty stood smiling in my sight.
+But Jove, all-governing, whose only will
+Determines fate, and mingles good with ill,
+Sent me (to punish my pursuit of gain)
+With roving pirates o'er the Egyptian main
+By Egypt's silver flood our ships we moor;
+Our spies commission'd straight the coast explore;
+But impotent of mind, the lawless will
+The country ravage, and the natives kill.
+The spreading clamour to their city flies,
+And horse and foot in mingled tumults rise:
+The reddening dawn reveals the hostile fields,
+Horrid with bristly spears, and gleaming shields:
+Jove thunder'd on their side: our guilty head
+We turn'd to flight; the gathering vengeance spread
+On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lay dead.
+Some few the foe in servitude detain;
+Death ill exchanged for bondage and for pain!
+Unhappy me a Cyprian took aboard,
+And gave to Dmetor, Cyprus' haughty lord:
+Hither, to 'scape his chains, my course I steer,
+Still cursed by Fortune, and insulted here!"
+
+To whom Antinous thus his rage express'd:
+"What god has plagued us with this gourmand guest?
+Unless at distance, wretch! thou keep behind,
+Another isle, than Cyprus more unkind,
+Another Egypt shalt thou quickly find.
+From all thou begg'st, a bold audacious slave;
+Nor all can give so much as thou canst crave.
+Nor wonder I, at such profusion shown;
+Shameless they give, who give what's not their own."
+
+The chief, retiring: "Souls, like that in thee,
+Ill suits such forms of grace and dignity.
+Nor will that hand to utmost need afford
+The smallest portion of a wasteful board,
+Whose luxury whole patrimonies sweeps,
+Yet starving want, amidst the riot, weeps."
+
+The haughty suitor with resentment burns,
+And, sourly smiling, this reply returns:
+"Take that, ere yet thou quit this princely throng;
+And dumb for ever be thy slanderous tongue!"
+He said, and high the whirling tripod flung.
+His shoulder-blade received the ungentle shock;
+He stood, and moved not, like a marble rock;
+But shook his thoughtful head, nor more complain'd,
+Sedate of soul, his character sustain'd,
+And inly form'd revenge; then back withdrew:
+Before his feet the well fill'd scrip he threw,
+And thus with semblance mild address'd the crew:
+
+"May what I speak your princely minds approve,
+Ye peers and rivals in this noble love!
+Not for the hurt I grieve, but for the cause.
+If, when the sword our country's quarrel draws,
+Or if, defending what is justly dear,
+From Mars impartial some broad wound we bear,
+The generous motive dignifies the scar.
+But for mere want, how hard to suffer wrong!
+Want brings enough of other ills along!
+Yet, if injustice never be secure,
+If fiends revenge, and gods assert the poor,
+Death shall lay low the proud aggressor's head,
+And make the dust Antinous' bridal bed."
+
+"Peace, wretch! and eat thy bread without offence
+(The suitor cried), or force shall drag thee hence,
+Scourge through the public street, and cast thee there,
+A mangled carcase for the hounds to tear."
+
+His furious deed the general anger moved,
+All, even the worst, condemn'd; and some reproved.
+"Was ever chief for wars like these renown'd?
+Ill fits the stranger and the poor to wound.
+Unbless'd thy hand! if in this low disguise
+Wander, perhaps, some inmate of the skies;
+They (curious oft of mortal actions) deign
+In forms like these to round the earth and main,
+Just and unjust recording in their mind,
+And with sure eyes inspecting all mankind."
+
+Telemachus, absorb'd in thought severe,
+Nourish'd deep anguish, though he shed no tear;
+But the dark brow of silent sorrow shook:
+While thus his mother to her virgins spoke:
+
+"On him and his may the bright god of day
+That base, inhospitable blow repay!"
+The nurse replies: "If Jove receives my prayer,
+Not one survives to breathe to-morrow's air."
+
+"All, all are foes, and mischief is their end;
+Antinous most to gloomy death a friend
+(Replies the queen): the stranger begg'd their grace,
+And melting pity soften'd every face;
+From every other hand redress he found,
+But fell Antinous answer'd with a wound."
+Amidst her maids thus spoke the prudent queen,
+Then bade Eumaeus call the pilgrim in.
+"Much of the experienced man I long to hear,
+If or his certain eye, or listening ear,
+Have learn'd the fortunes of my wandering lord?"
+Thus she, and good Eumaeus took the word:
+
+"A private audience if thy grace impart,
+The stranger's words may ease the royal heart.
+His sacred eloquence in balm distils,
+And the soothed heart with secret pleasure fills.
+Three days have spent their beams, three nights have run
+Their silent journey, since his tale begun,
+Unfinish'd yet; and yet I thirst to hear!
+As when some heaven-taught poet charms the ear
+(Suspending sorrow with celestial strain
+Breathed from the gods to soften human pain)
+Time steals away with unregarded wing,
+And the soul hears him, though he cease to sing
+
+"Ulysses late he saw, on Cretan ground
+(His fathers guest), for Minos' birth renown'd.
+He now but waits the wind to waft him o'er,
+With boundless treasure, from Thesprotia's shore."
+
+To this the queen: "The wanderer let me hear,
+While yon luxurious race indulge their cheer,
+Devour the grazing ox, and browsing goat,
+And turn my generous vintage down their throat.
+For where's an arm, like thine, Ulysses! strong,
+To curb wild riot, and to punish wrong?"
+
+She spoke. Telemachus then sneezed aloud;
+Constrain'd, his nostril echoed through the crowd.
+The smiling queen the happy omen bless'd:
+
+"So may these impious fall, by Fate oppress'd!"
+Then to Eumaeus: "Bring the stranger, fly!
+And if my questions meet a true reply,
+Graced with a decent robe he shall retire,
+A gift in season which his wants require."
+
+Thus spoke Penelope. Eumaeus flies
+In duteous haste, and to Ulysses cries:
+"The queen invites thee, venerable guest!
+A secret instinct moves her troubled breast,
+Of her long absent lord from thee to gain
+Some light, and soothe her soul's eternal pain.
+If true, if faithful thou, her grateful mind
+Of decent robes a present has design'd:
+So finding favour in the royal eye,
+Thy other wants her subjects shall supply."
+
+"Fair truth alone (the patient man replied)
+My words shall dictate, and my lips shall guide.
+To him, to me, one common lot was given,
+In equal woes, alas! involved by Heaven.
+Much of his fates I know; but check'd by fear
+I stand; the hand of violence is here:
+Here boundless wrongs the starry skies invade,
+And injured suppliants seek in vain for aid.
+Let for a space the pensive queen attend,
+Nor claim my story till the sun descend;
+Then in such robes as suppliants may require,
+Composed and cheerful by the genial fire,
+When loud uproar and lawless riot cease,
+Shall her pleased ear receive my words in peace."
+
+Swift to the queen returns the gentle swain:
+"And say (she cries), does fear or shame detain
+The cautious stranger? With the begging kind
+Shame suits but ill." Eumaeus thus rejoin'd:
+
+"He only asks a more propitious hour,
+And shuns (who would not?) wicked men in power;
+At evening mild (meet season to confer)
+By turns to question, and by turns to hear."
+
+"Whoe'er this guest (the prudent queen replies)
+His every step and every thought is wise.
+For men like these on earth he shall not find
+In all the miscreant race of human kind."
+Thus she. Eumaeus all her words attends,
+And, parting, to the suitor powers descends;
+There seeks Telemachus, and thus apart
+In whispers breathes the fondness of his heart:
+
+"The time, my lord, invites me to repair
+Hence to the lodge; my charge demands my care.
+These sons of murder thirst thy life to take;
+O guard it, guard it, for thy servant's sake!"
+
+"Thanks to my friend (he cries): but now the hour
+Of night draws on, go seek the rural bower:
+But first refresh: and at the dawn of day
+Hither a victim to the gods convey.
+Our life to Heaven's immortal powers we trust,
+Safe in their care, for Heaven protects the just."
+
+Observant of his voice, Eumaeus sate
+And fed recumbent on a chair of state.
+Then instant rose, and as he moved along,
+'Twas riot all amid the suitor throng,
+They feast, they dance, and raise the mirthful song
+Till now, declining towards the close of day,
+The sun obliquely shot his dewy ray.
+
+
+
+BOOK XVIII.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+THE FIGHT OF ULYSSES AND IRUS.
+
+The beggar Irus insults Ulysses; the suitors promote the quarrel,
+in which Irus is worsted, and miserably handled. Penelope
+descends, and receives the presents of the suitors. The dialogue
+of Ulysses with Eurymachus.
+
+
+
+While fix'd in thought the pensive hero sate,
+A mendicant approach'd the royal gate;
+A surly vagrant of the giant kind,
+The stain of manhood, of a coward mind:
+From feast to feast, insatiate to devour,
+He flew, attendant on the genial hour.
+Him on his mother's knees, when babe he lay,
+She named Arnaeus on his natal day:
+But Irus his associates call'd the boy,
+Practised the common messenger to fly;
+Irus, a name expressive of the employ.
+
+From his own roof, with meditated blows,
+He strove to drive the man of mighty woes:
+
+"Hence, dotard! hence, and timely speed thy way,
+Lest dragg'd in vengeance thou repent thy stay;
+See how with nods assent yon princely train!
+But honouring age, in mercy I refrain:
+In peace away! lest, if persuasions fail,
+This arm with blows more eloquent prevail."
+To whom, with stern regard: "O insolence,
+Indecently to rail without offence!
+What bounty gives without a rival share;
+I ask, what harms not thee, to breathe this air:
+Alike on alms we both precarious live:
+And canst thou envy when the great relieve?
+Know, from the bounteous heavens all riches flow,
+And what man gives, the gods by man bestow;
+Proud as thou art, henceforth no more be proud,
+Lest I imprint my vengeance in thy blood;
+Old as I am, should once my fury burn,
+How would'st thou fly, nor e'en in thought return!"
+
+"Mere woman-glutton! (thus the churl replied;)
+A tongue so flippant, with a throat so wide!
+Why cease I gods! to dash those teeth away,
+Like some wild boar's, that, greedy of his prey,
+Uproots the bearded corn? Rise, try the fight,
+Gird well thy loins, approach, and feel my might:
+Sure of defeat, before the peers engage:
+Unequal fight, when youth contends with age!"
+
+Thus in a wordy war their tongues display
+More fierce intents, preluding to the fray;
+Antinous hears, and in a jovial vein,
+Thus with loud laughter to the suitor train:
+
+"This happy day in mirth, my friends, employ,
+And lo! the gods conspire to crown our joy;
+See ready for the fight, and hand to hand,
+Yon surly mendicants contentious stand:
+Why urge we not to blows!" Well pleased they spring
+Swift from their seats, and thickening form a ring.
+
+To whom Antinous: "Lo! enrich'd with blood,
+A kid's well-fatted entrails (tasteful food)
+On glowing embers lie; on him bestow
+The choicest portion who subdues his foe;
+Grant him unrivall'd in these walls to stay,
+The sole attendant on the genial day."
+
+The lords applaud: Ulysses then with art,
+And fears well-feign'd, disguised his dauntless heart.
+
+"Worn as I am with age, decay'd with woe;
+Say, is it baseness to decline the foe?
+Hard conflict! when calamity and age
+With vigorous youth, unknown to cares, engage!
+Yet, fearful of disgrace, to try the day
+Imperious hunger bids, and I obey;
+But swear, impartial arbiters of right,
+Swear to stand neutral, while we cope in fight."
+
+The peers assent: when straight his sacred head
+Telemachus upraised, and sternly said:
+"Stranger, if prompted to chastise the wrong
+Of this bold insolent, confide, be strong!
+The injurious Greek that dares attempt a blow,
+That instant makes Telemachus his foe;
+And these my friends shall guard the sacred ties
+Of hospitality, for they are wise."
+
+Then, girding his strong loins, the king prepares
+To close in combat, and his body bares;
+Broad spread his shoulders, and his nervous thighs
+By just degrees, like well-turn'd columns, rise
+Ample his chest, his arms are round and long,
+And each strong joint Minerva knits more strong
+(Attendant on her chief): the suitor-crowd
+With wonder gaze, and gazing speak aloud:
+"Irus! alas! shall Irus be no more?
+Black fate impends, and this the avenging hour!
+Gods! how his nerves a matchless strength proclaim,
+Swell o'er his well-strong limbs, and brace his frame!"
+
+Then pale with fears, and sickening at the sight;
+They dragg'd the unwilling Irus to the fight;
+From his blank visage fled the coward blood,
+And his flesh trembled as aghast he stood.
+
+"O that such baseness should disgrace the light?
+O hide it, death, in everlasting night!
+(Exclaims Antinous;) can a vigorous foe
+Meanly decline to combat age and woe?
+But hear me wretch! if recreant in the fray
+That huge bulk yield this ill-contested day,
+Instant thou sail'st, to Eschetus resign'd;
+A tyrant, fiercest of the tyrant kind,
+Who casts thy mangled ears and nose a prey
+To hungry dogs, and lops the man away."
+
+While with indignant scorn he sternly spoke,
+In every joint the trembling Irus shook.
+Now front to front each frowning champion stands,
+And poises high in air his adverse hands.
+The chief yet doubts, or to the shades below
+To fell the giant at one vengeful blow,
+Or save his life, and soon his life to save
+The king resolves, for mercy sways the brave
+That instant Irus his huge arm extends,
+Full on his shoulder the rude weight descends;
+The sage Ulysses, fearful to disclose
+The hero latent in the man of woes,
+Check'd half his might; yet rising to the stroke,
+His jawbone dash'd, the crashing jawbone broke:
+Down dropp'd he stupid from the stunning wound;
+His feet extended quivering, beat the ground;
+His mouth and nostrils spout a purple flood;
+His teeth, all shatter'd, rush inmix'd with blood.
+
+The peers transported, as outstretch'd he lies,
+With bursts of laughter rend the vaulted skies;
+Then dragg'd along, all bleeding from the wound,
+His length of carcase trailing prints the ground:
+Raised on his feet, again he reels, he falls,
+Till propp'd, reclining on the palace walls:
+Then to his hand a staff the victor gave,
+And thus with just reproach address'd the slave:
+"There terrible, affright with dogs, and reign
+A dreaded tyrant o'er the bestial train!
+But mercy to the poor and stranger show,
+Lest Heaven in vengeance send some mightier woe."
+
+Scornful he spoke, and o'er his shoulder flung
+The broad-patch'd scrip in tatters hung
+Ill join'd, and knotted to a twisted thong.
+Then, turning short, disdain'd a further stay;
+But to the palace measured back the way.
+There, as he rested gathering in a ring,
+The peers with smiles address'd their unknown king:
+"Stranger, may Jove and all the aerial powers
+With every blessing crown thy happy hours!
+Our freedom to thy prowess'd arm we owe
+From bold intrusion of thy coward foe:
+Instant the flying sail the slave shall wing
+To Eschetus, the monster of a king."
+
+While pleased he hears, Antinous bears the food,
+A kid's well-fatted entrails, rich with blood;
+The bread from canisters of shining mould
+Amphinomus; and wines that laugh in gold:
+"And oh! (he mildly cries) may Heaven display
+A beam of glory o'er thy future day!
+Alas, the brave too oft is doom'd to bear
+The gripes of poverty and stings of care."
+
+To whom with thought mature the king replies:
+"The tongue speaks wisely, when the soul is wise:
+Such was thy father! in imperial state,
+Great without vice, that oft attends the great;
+Nor from the sire art thou, the son, declin'd;
+Then hear my words, and grace them in thy mind!
+Of all that breathes, or grovelling creeps on earth,
+Most man in vain! calamitous by birth:
+To-day, with power elate, in strength he blooms;
+The haughty creature on that power presumes:
+Anon from Heaven a sad reverse he feels:
+Untaught to bear, 'gainst Heaven the wretch rebels.
+For man is changeful, as his bliss or woe!
+Too high when prosperous, when distress'd too low.
+There was a day, when with the scornful great
+I swell'd in pomp and arrogance of state;
+Proud of the power that to high birth belongs;
+And used that power to justify my wrongs.
+Then let not man be proud; but firm of mind,
+Bear the best humbly; and the worst resign'd;
+Be dumb when Heaven afflicts! unlike yon train
+Of haughty spoilers, insolently vain;
+Who make their queen and all her wealth a prey:
+But vengeance and Ulysses wing their way.
+O may'st thou, favour'd by some guardian power,
+Far, far be distant in that deathful hour!
+For sure I am, if stern Ulysses breathe,
+These lawless riots end in blood and death."
+
+Then to the gods the rosy juice he pours,
+And the drain'd goblet to the chief restores.
+Stung to the soul, o'ercast with holy dread,
+He shook the graceful honours of his head;
+His boding mind the future woe forestalls,
+In vain! by great Telemachus he falls,
+For Pallas seals his doom: all sad he turns
+To join the peers; resumes his throne, and mourns.
+
+Meanwhile Minerva with instinctive fires
+Thy soul, Penelope, from Heaven inspires;
+With flattering hopes the suitors to betray,
+And seem to meet, yet fly, the bridal day:
+Thy husband's wonder, and thy son's to raise;
+And crown the mother and the wife with praise.
+Then, while the streaming sorrow dims her eyes,
+Thus, with a transient smile, the matron cries:
+
+"Eurynome! to go where riot reigns
+I feel an impulse, though my soul disdains;
+To my loved son the snares of death to show,
+And in the traitor friend, unmask the foe;
+Who, smooth of tongue, in purpose insincere,
+Hides fraud in smiles, while death is ambush'd there."
+
+"Go, warn thy son, nor be the warning vain
+(Replied the sagest of the royal train);
+But bathed, anointed, and adorn'd, descend;
+Powerful of charms, bid every grace attend;
+The tide of flowing tears awhile suppress;
+Tears but indulge the sorrow, not repress.
+Some joy remains: to thee a son is given,
+Such as, in fondness, parents ask of Heaven."
+
+"Ah me! forbear!" returns the queen, "forbear,
+Oh! talk not, talk not of vain beauty's care;
+No more I bathe, since he no longer sees
+Those charms, for whom alone I wish to please.
+The day that bore Ulysses from this coast
+Blasted the little bloom these cheeks could boast.
+But instant bid Autonoe descend,
+Instant Hippodame our steps attend;
+Ill suits it female virtue, to be seen
+Alone, indecent, in the walks of men."
+
+Then while Eurynome the mandate bears,
+From heaven Minerva shoots with guardian cares;
+O'er all her senses, as the couch she press'd,
+She pours, a pleasing, deep and death-like rest,
+With every beauty every feature arms,
+Bids her cheeks glow, and lights up all her charms;
+In her love-darting eyes awakes the fires
+(Immortal gifts! to kindle soft desires);
+From limb to limb an air majestic sheds,
+And the pure ivory o'er her bosom spreads.
+Such Venus shines, when with a measured bound
+She smoothly gliding swims the harmonious round,
+When with the Graces in the dance she moves,
+And fires the gazing gods with ardent loves.
+
+Then to the skies her flight Minerva bends,
+And to the queen the damsel train descends;
+Waked at their steps, her flowing eyes unclose;
+The tears she wipes, and thus renews her woes:
+"Howe'er 'tis well that sleep awhile can free,
+With soft forgetfulness a wretch like me;
+Oh! were it given to yield this transient breath,
+Send, O Diana! send the sleep of death!
+Why must I waste a tedious life in tears,
+Nor bury in the silent grave my cares?
+O my Ulysses! ever honour'd name!
+For thee I mourn till death dissolves my frame."
+
+Thus wailing, slow and sadly she descends,
+On either band a damsel train attends:
+Full where the dome its shining valves expands,
+Radiant before the gazing peers she stands;
+A veil translucent o'er her brow display'd,
+Her beauty seems, and only seems, to shade:
+Sudden she lightens in their dazzled eyes,
+And sudden flames in every bosom rise;
+They send their eager souls with every look.
+Till silence thus the imperial matron broke:
+
+"O why! my son, why now no more appears
+That warmth of soul that urged thy younger years?
+Thy riper days no growing worth impart,
+A man in stature, still a boy in heart!
+Thy well-knit frame unprofitably strong,
+Speaks thee a hero, from a hero sprung:
+But the just gods in vain those gifts bestow,
+O wise alone in form, and grave in show!
+Heavens! could a stranger feel oppression's hand
+Beneath thy roof, and couldst thou tamely stand!
+If thou the stranger's righteous cause decline
+His is the sufferance, but the shame is thine."
+
+To whom, with filial awe, the prince returns:
+"That generous soul with just resentment burns;
+Yet, taught by time, my heart has learn'd to glow
+For others' good, and melt at others' woe;
+But, impotent those riots to repel,
+I bear their outrage, though my soul rebel;
+Helpless amid the snares of death I tread,
+And numbers leagued in impious union dread;
+But now no crime is theirs: this wrong proceeds
+From Irus, and the guilty Irus bleeds.
+Oh would to Jove! or her whose arms display
+The shield of Jove, or him who rules the day!
+That yon proud suitors, who licentious tread
+These courts, within these courts like Irus bled:
+Whose loose head tottering, as with wine oppress'd,
+Obliquely drops, and nodding knocks his breast;
+Powerless to move, his staggering feet deny
+The coward wretch the privilege to fly."
+
+Then to the queen Eurymachus replies:
+"O justly loved, and not more fair than wise!
+Should Greece through all her hundred states survey
+Thy finish'd charms, all Greece would own thy sway
+In rival crowds contest the glorious prize.
+Dispeopling realms to gaze upon thy eyes:
+O woman! loveliest of the lovely kind,
+In body perfect, and complete in mind."
+
+"Ah me! (returns the queen) when from this shore
+Ulysses sail'd, then beauty was no more!
+The gods decreed these eyes no more should keep
+Their wonted grace, but only serve to weep.
+Should he return, whate'er my beauties prove,
+My virtues last; my brightest charm is love.
+Now, grief, thou all art mine! the gods o'ercast
+My soul with woes, that long, ah long must last!
+Too faithfully my heart retains the day
+That sadly tore my royal lord away:
+He grasp'd my hand, and, 'O, my spouse! I leave
+Thy arms (he cried), perhaps to find a grave:
+Fame speaks the Trojans bold; they boast the skill
+To give the feather'd arrow wings to kill,
+To dart the spear, and guide the rushing car
+With dreadful inroad through the walks of war.
+My sentence is gone forth, and 'tis decreed
+Perhaps by righteous Heaven that I must bleed!
+My father, mother, all I trust to three;
+To them, to them, transfer the love of me:
+But, when my son grows man, the royal sway
+Resign, and happy be thy bridal day!'
+Such were his words; and Hymen now prepares
+To light his torch, and give me up to cares;
+The afflictive hand of wrathful Jove to bear:
+A wretch the most complete that breathes the air!
+Fall'n e'en below the rights to woman due!
+Careless to please, with insolence ye woo!
+The generous lovers, studious to succeed,
+Bid their whole herds and flocks in banquets bleed;
+By precious gifts the vow sincere display:
+You, only you, make her ye love your prey."
+
+Well-pleased Ulysses hears his queen deceive
+The suitor-train, and raise a thirst to give:
+False hopes she kindles, but those hopes betray,
+And promise, yet elude, the bridal day.
+
+While yet she speaks, the gay Antinous cries:
+"Offspring of kings, and more than woman wise!
+'Tis right; 'tis man's prerogative to give,
+And custom bids thee without shame receive;
+Yet never, never, from thy dome we move,
+Till Hymen lights the torch of spousal love."
+
+The peers despatch'd their heralds to convey
+The gifts of love; with speed they take the way.
+A robe Antinous gives of shining dyes,
+The varying hues in gay confusion rise
+Rich from the artist's hand! Twelve clasps of gold
+Close to the lessening waist the vest infold!
+Down from the swelling loins the vest unbound
+Floats in bright waves redundant o'er the ground,
+A bracelet rich with gold, with amber gay,
+That shot effulgence like the solar ray,
+Eurymachus presents: and ear-rings bright,
+With triple stars, that casts a trembling light.
+Pisander bears a necklace wrought with art:
+And every peer, expressive of his heart,
+A gift bestows: this done, the queen ascends,
+And slow behind her damsel train attends.
+
+Then to the dance they form the vocal strain,
+Till Hesperus leads forth the starry train;
+And now he raises, as the daylight fades,
+His golden circlet in the deepening shades:
+Three vases heap'd with copious fires display
+O'er all the palace a fictitious day;
+From space to space the torch wide-beaming burns,
+And sprightly damsels trim the rays by turns.
+
+To whom the king: "Ill suits your sex to stay
+Alone with men! ye modest maids, away!
+Go, with the queen; the spindle guide; or cull
+(The partners of her cares) the silver wool;
+Be it my task the torches to supply
+E'en till the morning lamp adorns the sky;
+E'en till the morning, with unwearied care,
+Sleepless I watch; for I have learn'd to bear."
+
+Scornful they heard: Melantho, fair and young,
+(Melantho, from the loins of Dolius sprung,
+Who with the queen her years an infant led,
+With the soft fondness of a daughter bred,)
+Chiefly derides: regardless of the cares
+Her queen endures, polluted joys she shares
+Nocturnal with Eurymachus: with eyes
+That speak disdain, the wanton thus replies:
+"Oh! whither wanders thy distemper'd brain,
+Thou bold intruder on a princely train?
+Hence, to the vagrants' rendezvous repair;
+Or shun in some black forge the midnight air.
+Proceeds this boldness from a turn of soul,
+Or flows licentious from the copious bowl?
+Is it that vanquish'd Irus swells thy mind?
+A foe may meet thee of a braver kind,
+Who, shortening with a storm of blows thy stay,
+Shall send thee howling all in blood away!"
+
+To whom with frowns: "O impudent in wrong!
+Thy lord shall curb that insolence of tongue;
+Know, to Telemachus I tell the offence;
+The scourge, the scourge shall lash thee into sense."
+
+With conscious shame they hear the stern rebuke,
+Nor longer durst sustain the sovereign look.
+
+Then to the servile task the monarch turns
+His royal hands: each torch refulgent burns
+With added day: meanwhile in museful mood,
+Absorb'd in thought, on vengeance fix'd he stood.
+And now the martial maid, by deeper wrongs
+To rouse Ulysses, points the suitors' tongues:
+Scornful of age, to taunt the virtuous man,
+Thoughtless and gay, Eurymachus began:
+
+"Hear me (he cries), confederates and friends!
+Some god, no doubt, this stranger kindly sends;
+The shining baldness of his head survey,
+It aids our torchlight, and reflects the ray."
+
+Then to the king that levell'd haughty Troy:
+"Say, if large hire can tempt thee to employ
+Those hands in work; to tend the rural trade,
+To dress the walk, and form the embowering shade.
+So food and raiment constant will I give:
+But idly thus thy soul prefers to live,
+And starve by strolling, not by work to thrive."
+
+To whom incensed: "Should we, O prince, engage
+In rival tasks beneath the burning rage
+Of summer suns; were both constrain'd to wield
+Foodless the scythe along the burden'd field;
+Or should we labour while the ploughshare wounds,
+With steers of equal strength, the allotted grounds,
+Beneath my labours, how thy wondering eyes
+Might see the sable field at once arise!
+Should Jove dire war unloose, with spear and shield,
+And nodding helm, I tread the ensanguined field,
+Fierce in the van: then wouldst thou, wouldst thou,--say,--
+Misname me glutton, in that glorious day?
+No, thy ill-judging thoughts the brave disgrace
+'Tis thou injurious art, not I am base.
+Proud to seem brave among a coward train!
+But now, thou art not valorous, but vain.
+God! should the stern Ulysses rise in might,
+These gates would seem too narrow for thy flight."
+
+While yet he speaks, Eurymachus replies,
+With indignation flashing from his eyes:
+
+"Slave, I with justice might deserve the wrong,
+Should I not punish that opprobrious tongue.
+Irreverent to the great, and uncontroll'd,
+Art thou from wine, or innate folly, bold?
+Perhaps these outrages from Irus flow,
+A worthless triumph o'er a worthless foe!"
+
+He said, and with full force a footstool threw;
+Whirl'd from his arm, with erring rage it flew:
+Ulysses, cautious of the vengeful foe,
+Stoops to the ground, and disappoints the blow.
+Not so a youth, who deals the goblet round,
+Full on his shoulder it inflicts a wound;
+Dash'd from his hand the sounding goblet flies,
+He shrieks, he reels, he falls, and breathless lies.
+Then wild uproar and clamour mount the sky,
+Till mutual thus the peers indignant cry:
+"Oh had this stranger sunk to realms beneath,
+To the black realms of darkness and of death,
+Ere yet he trod these shores! to strife he draws
+Peer against peer; and what the weighty cause?
+A vagabond! for him the great destroy,
+In vile ignoble jars, the feast of joy."
+
+To whom the stern Telemachus uprose;
+"Gods! what wild folly from the goblet flows!
+Whence this unguarded openness of soul,
+But from the license of the copious bowl?
+Or Heaven delusion sends: but hence away!
+Force I forbear, and without force obey."
+
+Silent, abash'd, they hear the stern rebuke,
+Till thus Amphinomus the silence broke:
+
+"True are his words, and he whom truth offends,
+Not with Telemachus, but truth contends;
+Let not the hand of violence invade
+The reverend stranger, or the spotless maid;
+Retire we hence, but crown with rosy wine
+The flowing goblet to the powers divine!
+Guard he his guest beneath whose roof he stands:
+This justice, this the social rite demands."
+
+The peers assent: the goblet Mulius crown'd
+With purple juice, and bore in order round:
+Each peer successive his libation pours
+To the blest gods who fill'd the ethereal bowers:
+Then swill'd with wine, with noise the crowds obey,
+And rushing forth, tumultuous reel away.
+
+
+
+BOOK XIX.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+THE DISCOVERY OF ULYSSES TO EURYCLEA.
+
+Ulysses and his son remove the weapons out of the armoury.
+Ulysses, in conversation with Penelope, gives a fictitious account
+of his adventures; then assures her he had formerly entertained
+her husband in Crete; and describes exactly his person and dress;
+affirms to have heard of him in Phaeacia and Thesprotia, and that
+his return is certain, and within a month. He then goes to bathe,
+and is attended by Euryclea, who discovers him to be Ulysses by
+the scar upon his leg, which he formerly received in hunting the
+wild boar on Parnassus. The poet inserts a digression relating
+that accident, with all its particulars.
+
+
+
+Consulting secret with the blue-eyed maid,
+Still in the dome divine Ulysses stay'd:
+Revenge mature for act inflamed his breast;
+And thus the son the fervent sire address'd:
+
+"Instant convey those steely stores of war
+To distant rooms, disposed with secret care:
+The cause demanded by the suitor-train,
+To soothe their fears, a specious reason feign:
+Say, since Ulysses left his natal coast,
+Obscene with smoke, their beamy lustre lost,
+His arms deform the roof they wont adorn:
+From the glad walls inglorious lumber torn.
+Suggest, that Jove the peaceful thought inspired,
+Lest they, by sight of swords to fury fired,
+Dishonest wounds, or violence of soul,
+Defame the bridal feast and friendly bowl."
+
+The prince, obedient to the sage command,
+To Euryclea thus: "The female band
+In their apartments keep; secure the doors;
+These swarthy arms among the covert stores
+Are seemlier hid; my thoughtless youth they blame,
+Imbrown'd with vapour of the smouldering flame."
+
+"In happier hour (pleased Euryclea cries),
+Tutour'd by early woes, grow early wise;
+Inspect with sharpen'd sight, and frugal care,
+Your patrimonial wealth, a prudent heir.
+But who the lighted taper will provide
+(The female train retired) your toils to guide?"
+
+"Without infringing hospitable right,
+This guest (he cried) shall bear the guiding light:
+I cheer no lazy vagrants with repast;
+They share the meal that earn it ere they taste."
+
+He said: from female ken she straight secures
+The purposed deed, and guards the bolted doors:
+Auxiliar to his son, Ulysses bears
+The plumy-crested helms and pointed spears,
+With shields indented deep in glorious wars.
+Minerva viewless on her charge attends,
+And with her golden lamp his toil befriends.
+Not such the sickly beams, which unsincere
+Gild the gross vapour of this nether sphere!
+A present deity the prince confess'd,
+And wrapp'd with ecstasy the sire address'd:
+
+"What miracle thus dazzles with surprise!
+Distinct in rows the radiant columns rise;
+The walls, where'er my wondering sight I turn,
+And roofs, amidst a blaze of glory burn!
+Some visitant of pure ethereal race
+With his bright presence deigns the dome to grace."
+
+"Be calm (replies the sire); to none impart,
+But oft revolve the vision in thy heart:
+Celestials, mantled in excess of light,
+Can visit unapproach'd by mortal sight.
+Seek thou repose: whilst here I sole remain,
+To explore the conduct of the female train:
+The pensive queen, perchance, desires to know
+The series of my toils, to soothe her woe."
+
+With tapers flaming day his train attends,
+His bright alcove the obsequious youth ascends:
+Soft slumberous shades his drooping eyelids close,
+Till on her eastern throne Aurora glows.
+
+Whilst, forming plans of death, Ulysses stay'd,
+In counsel secret with the martial maid,
+Attendant nymphs in beauteous order wait
+The queen, descending from her bower of state.
+Her cheeks the warmer blush of Venus wear,
+Chasten'd with coy Diana's pensive air.
+An ivory seat with silver ringlets graced,
+By famed Icmalius wrought, the menials placed:
+With ivory silver'd thick the footstool shone,
+O'er which the panther's various hide was thrown.
+The sovereign seat with graceful air she press'd;
+To different tasks their toil the nymphs address'd:
+The golden goblets some, and some restored
+From stains of luxury the polish'd board:
+These to remove the expiring embers came,
+While those with unctuous fir foment the flame.
+
+'Twas then Melantho with imperious mien
+Renew'd the attack, incontinent of spleen:
+"Avaunt (she cried), offensive to my sight!
+Deem not in ambush here to lurk by night,
+Into the woman-state asquint to pry;
+A day-devourer, and an evening spy!
+Vagrant, begone! before this blazing brand
+Shall urge"--and waved it hissing in her hand.
+
+The insulted hero rolls his wrathful eyes
+And "Why so turbulent of soul? (he cries;)
+Can these lean shrivell'd limbs, unnerved with age,
+These poor but honest rags, enkindle rage?
+In crowds, we wear the badge of hungry fate:
+And beg, degraded from superior state!
+Constrain'd a rent-charge on the rich I live;
+Reduced to crave the good I once could give:
+A palace, wealth, and slaves, I late possess'd,
+And all that makes the great be call'd the bless'd:
+My gate, an emblem of my open soul,
+Embraced the poor, and dealt a bounteous dole.
+Scorn not the sad reverse, injurious maid!
+'Tis Jove's high will, and be his will obey'd!
+Nor think thyself exempt: that rosy prime
+Must share the general doom of withering time:
+To some new channel soon the changeful tide
+Of royal grace the offended queen may guide;
+And her loved lord unplume thy towering pride.
+Or, were he dead, 'tis wisdom to beware:
+Sweet blooms the prince beneath Apollo's care;
+Your deeds with quick impartial eye surveys,
+Potent to punish what he cannot praise."
+
+Her keen reproach had reach'd the sovereign's ear:
+"Loquacious insolent! (she cries,) forbear;
+To thee the purpose of my soul I told;
+Venial discourse, unblamed, with him to hold;
+The storied labours of my wandering lord,
+To soothe my grief he haply may record:
+Yet him, my guest, thy venom'd rage hath stung;
+Thy head shall pay the forfeit of thy tongue!
+But thou on whom my palace cares depend,
+Eurynome, regard the stranger-friend:
+A seat, soft spread with furry spoils, prepare;
+Due-distant for us both to speak, and hear."
+
+The menial fair obeys with duteous haste:
+A seat adorn'd with furry spoils she placed:
+Due-distant for discourse the hero sate;
+When thus the sovereign from her chair of state:
+
+"Reveal, obsequious to my first demand,
+Thy name, thy lineage, and thy natal land."
+
+He thus: "O queen! whose far-resounding fame
+Is bounded only by the starry frame,
+Consummate pattern of imperial sway,
+Whose pious rule a warlike race obey!
+In wavy gold thy summer vales are dress'd;
+Thy autumns bind with copious fruit oppress'd:
+With flocks and herds each grassy plain is stored;
+And fish of every fin thy seas afford:
+Their affluent joys the grateful realms confess;
+And bless the power that still delights to bless,
+Gracious permit this prayer, imperial dame!
+Forbear to know my lineage, or my name:
+Urge not this breast to heave, these eyes to weep;
+In sweet oblivion let my sorrows sleep!
+My woes awaked, will violate your ear,
+And to this gay censorious train appear
+A whiny vapour melting in a tear."
+
+"Their gifts the gods resumed (the queen rejoin'd),
+Exterior grace, and energy of mind,
+When the dear partner of my nuptial joy,
+Auxiliar troops combined, to conquer Troy.
+My lord's protecting hand alone would raise
+My drooping verdure, and extend my praise!
+Peers from the distant Samian shore resort:
+Here with Dulichians join'd, besiege the court:
+Zacynthus, green with ever-shady groves,
+And Ithaca, presumptuous, boast their loves:
+Obtruding on my choice a second lord,
+They press the Hymenaean rite abhorr'd.
+Misrule thus mingling with domestic cares,
+I live regardless of my state affairs;
+Receive no stranger-guest, no poor relieve;
+But ever for my lord in secret grieve!--
+This art, instinct by some celestial power,
+I tried, elusive of the bridal hour:
+
+"'Ye peers, (I cry,) who press to gain a heart,
+Where dead Ulysses claims no future part;
+Rebate your loves, each rival suit suspend,
+Till this funeral web my labours end:
+Cease, till to good Laertes I bequeath
+A pall of state, the ornament of death.
+For when to fate he bows, each Grecian dame
+With just reproach were licensed to defame,
+Should he, long honour'd in supreme command,
+Want the last duties of a daughter's hand.'
+The fiction pleased; their loves I long elude;
+The night still ravell'd what the day renew'd:
+Three years successful in my heart conceal'd,
+My ineffectual fraud the fourth reveal'd:
+Befriended by my own domestic spies,
+The woof unwrought the suitor-train surprise.
+From nuptial rites they now no more recede,
+And fear forbids to falsify the brede.
+My anxious parents urge a speedy choice,
+And to their suffrage gain the filial voice.
+For rule mature, Telemachus deplores
+His dome dishonour'd, and exhausted stores--
+But, stranger! as thy days seem full of fate,
+Divide discourse, in turn thy birth relate:
+Thy port asserts thee of distinguish'd race;
+No poor unfather'd product of disgrace."
+
+"Princess! (he cries,) renew'd by your command,
+The dear remembrance of my native land
+Of secret grief unseals the fruitful source;
+Fond tears repeat their long-forgotten course!
+So pays the wretch whom fate constrains to roam,
+The dues of nature to his natal home!--
+But inward on my soul let sorrow prey,
+Your sovereign will my duty bids obey.
+
+"Crete awes the circling waves, a fruitful soil!
+And ninety cities crown the sea-born isle:
+Mix'd with her genuine sons, adopted names
+In various tongues avow their various claims:
+Cydonians, dreadful with the bended yew,
+And bold Pelasgi boast a native's due:
+The Dorians, plumed amid the files of war,
+Her foodful glebe with fierce Achaians share;
+Cnossus, her capital of high command;
+Where sceptred Minos with impartial hand
+Divided right: each ninth revolving year,
+By Jove received in council to confer.
+His son Deucalion bore successive sway:
+His son, who gave me first to view the day!
+The royal bed an elder issue bless'd,
+Idomeneus whom Ilion fields attest
+Of matchless deeds: untrain'd to martial toil,
+I lived inglorious in my native isle.
+Studious of peace, and Aethon is my name.
+'Twas then to Crete the great Ulysses came.
+For elemental war, and wintry Jove,
+From Malea's gusty cape his navy drove
+To bright Lucina's fane; the shelfy coast
+Where loud Amnisus in the deep is lost.
+His vessel's moor'd (an incommodious port!)
+The hero speeded to the Cnossian court:
+Ardent the partner of his arms to find,
+In leagues of long commutual friendship join'd.
+Vain hope! ten suns had warm'd the western strand
+Since my brave brother, with his Cretan band,
+Had sail'd for Troy: but to the genial feast
+My honour'd roof received the royal guest:
+Beeves for his train the Cnossian peers assign,
+A public treat, with jars of generous wine.
+Twelve days while Boreas vex'd the aerial space,
+My hospitable dome he deign'd to grace:
+And when the north had ceased the stormy roar,
+He wing'd his voyage to the Phrygian shore."
+
+Thus the fam'd hero, perfected in wiles,
+With fair similitude of truth beguiles
+The queen's attentive ear: dissolved in woe,
+From her bright eyes the tears unbounded flow,
+As snows collected on the mountain freeze;
+When milder regions breathe a vernal breeze,
+The fleecy pile obeys the whispering gales,
+Ends in a stream, and murmurs through the vales:
+So, melting with the pleasing tale he told,
+Down her fair cheek the copious torrent roll'd:
+She to her present lord laments him lost,
+And views that object which she wants the most,
+Withering at heart to see the weeping fair,
+His eyes look stern, and cast a gloomy stare;
+Of horn the stiff relentless balls appear,
+Or globes of iron fix'd in either sphere;
+Firm wisdom interdicts the softening tear.
+A speechless interval of grief ensues,
+Till thus the queen the tender theme renews.
+
+"Stranger! that e'er thy hospitable roof
+Ulysses graced, confirm by faithful proof;
+Delineate to my view my warlike lord,
+His form, his habit, and his train record."
+
+"'Tis hard (he cries,) to bring to sudden sight
+Ideas that have wing'd their distant flight;
+Rare on the mind those images are traced,
+Whose footsteps twenty winters have defaced:
+But what I can, receive.--In ample mode,
+A robe of military purple flow'd
+O'er all his frame: illustrious on his breast,
+The double-clasping gold the king confess'd.
+In the rich woof a hound, mosaic drawn,
+Bore on full stretch, and seized a dappled fawn;
+Deep in the neck his fangs indent their hold;
+They pant and struggle in the moving gold.
+Fine as a filmy web beneath it shone
+A vest, that dazzled like a cloudless sun:
+The female train who round him throng'd to gaze,
+In silent wonder sigh'd unwilling praise.
+A sabre, when the warrior press'd to part,
+I gave, enamell'd with Vulcanian art:
+A mantle purple-tinged, and radiant vest,
+Dimension'd equal to his size, express'd
+Affection grateful to my honour'd guest.
+A favourite herald in his train I knew,
+His visage solemn, sad of sable hue:
+Short woolly curls o'erfleeced his bending head,
+O'er which a promontory shoulder spread;
+Eurybates; in whose large soul alone
+Ulysses view'd an image of his own."
+
+His speech the tempest of her grief restored;
+In all he told she recognized her lord:
+But when the storm was spent in plenteous showers,
+A pause inspiriting her languish'd powers,
+"O thou, (she cried,) whom first inclement Fate
+Made welcome to my hospitable gate;
+With all thy wants the name of poor shall end:
+Henceforth live honour'd, my domestic friend!
+The vest much envied on your native coast,
+And regal robe with figured gold emboss'd,
+In happier hours my artful hand employ'd,
+When my loved lord this blissful bower enjoy'd:
+The fall of Troy erroneous and forlorn
+Doom'd to survive, and never to return!"
+
+Then he, with pity touch'd: "O royal dame!
+Your ever-anxious mind, and beauteous frame,
+From the devouring rage of grief reclaim.
+I not the fondness of your soul reprove
+For such a lord! who crown'd your virgin love
+With the dear blessing of a fair increase;
+Himself adorn'd with more than mortal grace:
+Yet while I speak the mighty woe suspend;
+Truth forms my tale; to pleasing truth attend.
+The royal object of your dearest care
+Breathes in no distant clime the vital air:
+In rich Thesprotia, and the nearer bound
+Of Thessaly, his name I heard renown'd:
+Without retinue, to that friendly shore
+Welcomed with gifts of price, a sumless store!
+His sacrilegious train, who dared to prey
+On herds devoted to the god of day,
+Were doom'd by Jove, and Phoebus' just decree,
+To perish in the rough Trinacrian sea.
+To better fate the blameless chief ordain'd,
+A floating fragment of the wreck regain'd,
+And rode the storm; till, by the billows toss'd,
+He landed on the fair Phaeacian coast.
+That race who emulate the life of gods,
+Receive him joyous to their bless'd abodes;
+Large gifts confer, a ready sail command,
+To speed his voyage to the Grecian strand.
+But your wise lord (in whose capacious soul
+High schemes of power in just succession roll)
+His Ithaca refused from favouring Fate,
+Till copious wealth might guard his regal state.
+Phedon the fact affirm'd, whose sovereign sway
+Thesprotian tribes, a duteous race, obey;
+And bade the gods this added truth attest
+(While pure libations crown'd the genial feast),
+That anchor'd in his port the vessels stand,
+To waft the hero to his natal land.
+I for Dulichium urge the watery way,
+But first the Ulyssean wealth survey:
+So rich the value of a store so vast
+Demands the pomp of centuries to waste!
+The darling object of your royal love
+Was journey'd thence to Dodonean Jove;
+By the sure precept of the sylvan shrine,
+To form the conduct of his great design;
+Irresolute of soul, his state to shroud
+In dark disguise, or come, a king avow'd!
+Thus lives your lord; nor longer doom'd to roam;
+Soon will he grace this dear paternal dome.
+By Jove, the source of good, supreme in power!
+By the bless'd genius of this friendly bower!
+I ratify my speech, before the sun
+His annual longitude of heaven shall run;
+When the pale empress of yon starry train
+In the next month renews her faded wane,
+Ulysses will assert his rightful reign."
+
+"What thanks! what boon! (replied the queen), are due,
+When time shall prove the storied blessing true!
+My lord's return should fate no more retard,
+Envy shall sicken at thy vast reward.
+But my prophetic fears, alas! presage
+The wounds of Destiny's relentless rage.
+I long must weep, nor will Ulysses come,
+With royal gifts to send you honour'd home!--
+Your other task, ye menial train forbear:
+Now wash the stranger, and the bed prepare:
+With splendid palls the downy fleece adorn:
+Uprising early with the purple morn.
+His sinews, shrunk with age, and stiff with toil,
+In the warm bath foment with fragrant oil.
+Then with Telemachus the social feast
+Partaking free, my soul invited guest;
+Whoe'er neglects to pay distinction due,
+The breach of hospitable right may rue.
+The vulgar of my sex I most exceed
+In real fame, when most humane my deed;
+And vainly to the praise of queen aspire,
+If, stranger! I permit that mean attire
+Beneath the feastful bower. A narrow space
+Confines the circle of our destin'd race;
+'Tis ours with good the scanty round to grace.
+Those who to cruel wrong their state abuse,
+Dreaded in life the mutter'd curse pursues;
+By death disrobed of all their savage powers,
+Then, licensed rage her hateful prey devours.
+But he whose inborn worth his acts commend,
+Of gentle soul, to human race a friend;
+The wretched he relieves diffuse his fame,
+And distant tongues extol the patron-name."
+
+"Princess? (he cried) in vain your bounties flow
+On me, confirm'd and obstinate in woe.
+When my loved Crete received my final view,
+And from my weeping eyes her cliffs withdrew;
+These tatter'd weeds (my decent robes resign'd)
+I chose, the livery of a woful mind!
+Nor will my heart-corroding care abate
+With splendid palls, and canopies of state:
+Low-couch'd on earth, the gift of sleep I scorn,
+And catch the glances of the waking morn.
+The delicacy of your courtly train
+To wash a wretched wanderer would disdain;
+But if, in tract of long experience tried,
+And sad similitude of woes allied,
+Some wretch reluctant views aerial light,
+To her mean hand assign the friendly rite."
+
+Pleased with his wise reply, the queen rejoin'd:
+"Such gentle manners, and so sage a mind,
+In all who graced this hospitable bower
+I ne'er discerned, before this social hour.
+Such servant as your humble choice requires,
+To light received the lord of my desires,
+New from the birth; and with a mother's hand
+His tender bloom to manly growth sustain'd:
+Of matchless prudence, and a duteous mind;
+Though now to life's extremest verge declined,
+Of strength superior to the toil design'd--
+Rise, Euryclea! with officious care
+For the poor friend the cleansing bath prepare:
+This debt his correspondent fortunes claim,
+Too like Ulysses, and perhaps the same!
+Thus old with woes my fancy paints him now!
+For age untimely marks the careful brow."
+
+Instant, obsequious to the mild command,
+Sad Euryclea rose: with trembling hand
+She veils the torrent of her tearful eyes;
+And thus impassion'd to herself replies:
+
+"Son of my love, and monarch of my cares,
+What pangs for thee this wretched bosom bears!
+Are thus by Jove who constant beg his aid
+With pious deed, and pure devotion, paid?
+He never dared defraud the sacred fane
+Of perfect hecatombs in order slain:
+There oft implored his tutelary power,
+Long to protract the sad sepulchral hour;
+That, form'd for empire with paternal care,
+His realm might recognize an equal heir.
+O destined head! The pious vows are lost;
+His God forgets him on a foreign coast!--
+Perhaps, like thee, poor guest! in wanton pride
+The rich insult him, and the young deride!
+Conscious of worth reviled, thy generous mind
+The friendly rite of purity declined;
+My will concurring with my queen's command,
+Accept the bath from this obsequious hand.
+A strong emotion shakes my anguish'd breast:
+In thy whole form Ulysses seems express'd;
+Of all the wretched harboured on our coast,
+None imaged e'er like thee my master lost."
+
+Thus half-discover'd through the dark disguise,
+With cool composure feign'd, the chief replies:
+"You join your suffrage to the public vote;
+The same you think have all beholders thought."
+
+He said: replenish'd from the purest springs,
+The laver straight with busy care she brings:
+In the deep vase, that shone like burnish'd gold,
+The boiling fluid temperates the cold.
+Meantime revolving in his thoughtful mind
+The scar, with which his manly knee was sign'd;
+His face averting from the crackling blaze,
+His shoulders intercept the unfriendly rays:
+Thus cautious in the obscure he hoped to fly
+The curious search of Euryclea's eye.
+Cautious in vain! nor ceased the dame to find
+This scar with which his manly knee was sign'd.
+
+This on Parnassus (combating the boar)
+With glancing rage the tusky savage tore.
+Attended by his brave maternal race,
+His grandsire sent him to the sylvan chase,
+Autolycus the bold (a mighty name
+For spotless faith and deeds of martial fame:
+Hermes, his patron god, those gifts bestow'd,
+Whose shrine with weanling lambs he wont to load).
+His course to Ithaca this hero sped,
+When the first product of Laertes' bed
+Was now disclosed to birth: the banquet ends,
+When Euryclea from the queen descends,
+And to his fond embrace the babe commends:
+"Receive (she cries) your royal daughter's son;
+And name the blessing that your prayers have won."
+Then thus the hoary chief: "My victor arms
+Have awed the realms around with dire alarms:
+A sure memorial of my dreaded fame
+The boy shall bear; Ulysses be his name!
+And when with filial love the youth shall come
+To view his mother's soil, my Delphic dome
+With gifts of price shall send him joyous home."
+Lured with the promised boon, when youthful prime
+Ended in man, his mother's natal clime
+Ulysses sought; with fond affection dear
+Amphitea's arms received the royal heir:
+Her ancient lord an equal joy possess'd;
+Instant he bade prepare the genial feast:
+A steer to form the sumptuous banquet bled,
+Whose stately growth five flowery summers fed:
+His sons divide, and roast with artful care
+The limbs; then all the tasteful viands share.
+Nor ceased discourse (the banquet of the soul),
+Till Phoebus wheeling to the western goal
+Resign'd the skies, and night involved the pole.
+Their drooping eyes the slumberous shade oppress'd,
+Sated they rose, and all retired to rest.
+
+Soon as the morn, new-robed in purple light,
+Pierced with her golden shafts the rear of night,
+Ulysses, and his brave maternal race,
+The young Autolyci, essay the chase.
+Parnassus, thick perplex'd with horrid shades,
+With deep-mouth'd hounds the hunter-troop invades;
+What time the sun, from ocean's peaceful stream,
+Darts o'er the lawn his horizontal beam.
+The pack impatient snuff the tainted gale;
+The thorny wilds the woodmen fierce assail:
+And, foremost of the train, his cornel spear
+Ulysses waved, to rouse the savage war.
+Deep in the rough recesses of the wood,
+A lofty copse, the growth of ages, stood;
+Nor winter's boreal blast, nor thunderous shower,
+Nor solar ray, could pierce the shady bower.
+With wither'd foliage strew'd, a heapy store!
+The warm pavilion of a dreadful boar.
+Roused by the hounds' and hunters' mingling cries,
+The savage from his leafy shelter flies;
+With fiery glare his sanguine eye-balls shine,
+And bristles high impale his horrid chine.
+Young Ithacus advanced, defies the foe,
+Poising his lifted lance in act to throw;
+The savage renders vain the wound decreed,
+And springs impetuous with opponent speed!
+His tusks oblique he aim'd, the knee to gore;
+Aslope they glanced, the sinewy fibres tore,
+And bared the bone; Ulysses undismay'd,
+Soon with redoubled force the wound repaid;
+To the right shoulder-joint the spear applied,
+His further flank with streaming purple dyed:
+On earth he rushed with agonizing pain;
+With joy and vast surprise, the applauding train
+View'd his enormous bulk extended on the plain.
+With bandage firm Ulysses' knee they bound;
+Then, chanting mystic lays, the closing wound
+Of sacred melody confess'd the force;
+The tides of life regain'd their azure course.
+Then back they led the youth with loud acclaim;
+Autolycus, enamoured with his fame,
+Confirm'd the cure; and from the Delphic dome
+With added gifts return'd him glorious home.
+He safe at Ithaca with joy received,
+Relates the chase, and early praise achieved.
+
+Deep o'er his knee inseam'd remain'd the scar;
+Which noted token of the woodland war
+When Euryclea found, the ablution ceased:
+Down dropp'd the leg, from her slack hand released;
+The mingled fluids from the base redound;
+The vase reclining floats the floor around!
+Smiles dew'd with tears the pleasing strife express'd
+Of grief and joy, alternate in her breast.
+Her fluttering words in melting murmurs died;
+At length abrupt--"My son!--my king!"--she cried.
+His neck with fond embrace infolding fast,
+Full on the queen her raptured eye she cast
+Ardent to speak the monarch safe restored:
+But, studious to conceal her royal lord,
+Minerva fix'd her mind on views remote,
+And from the present bliss abstracts her thought.
+His hand to Euryclea's mouth applied,
+"Art thou foredoom'd my pest? (the hero cried:)
+Thy milky founts my infant lips have drain'd;
+And have the Fates thy babbling age ordain'd
+To violate the life thy youth sustain'd?
+An exile have I told, with weeping eyes,
+Full twenty annual suns in distant skies;
+At length return'd, some god inspires thy breast
+To know thy king, and here I stand confess'd.
+This heaven-discover'd truth to thee consign'd,
+Reserve the treasure of thy inmost mind:
+Else, if the gods my vengeful arm sustain,
+And prostrate to my sword the suitor-train;
+With their lewd mates, thy undistinguish'd age
+Shall bleed a victim to vindictive rage."
+
+Then thus rejoin'd the dame, devoid of fear:
+"What words, my son, have passed thy lips severe?
+Deep in my soul the trust shall lodge secured;
+With ribs of steel, and marble heart, immured.
+When Heaven, auspicious to thy right avow'd,
+Shall prostrate to thy sword the suitor-crowd,
+The deeds I'll blazon of the menial fair;
+The lewd to death devote, the virtuous spare."
+
+"Thy aid avails me not (the chief replied);
+My own experience shall their doom decide:
+A witness-judge precludes a long appeal:
+Suffice it then thy monarch to conceal."
+
+He said: obsequious, with redoubled pace,
+She to the fount conveys the exhausted vase:
+The bath renew'd, she ends the pleasing toil
+With plenteous unction of ambrosial oil.
+Adjusting to his limbs the tatter'd vest,
+His former seat received the stranger guest;
+Whom thus with pensive air the queen addressed:
+
+"Though night, dissolving grief in grateful ease,
+Your drooping eyes with soft impression seize;
+Awhile, reluctant to her pleasing force,
+Suspend the restful hour with sweet discourse.
+The day (ne'er brighten'd with a beam of joy!)
+My menials, and domestic cares employ;
+And, unattended by sincere repose,
+The night assists my ever-wakeful woes;
+When nature's hush'd beneath her brooding shade,
+My echoing griefs the starry vault invade.
+As when the months are clad in flowery green,
+Sad Philomel, in bowery shades unseen,
+To vernal airs attunes her varied strains;
+And Itylus sounds warbling o'er the plains;
+Young Itylus, his parents' darling joy!
+Whom chance misled the mother to destroy;
+Now doom'd a wakeful bird to wail the beauteous boy.
+So in nocturnal solitude forlorn,
+A sad variety of woes I mourn!
+My mind, reflective, in a thorny maze
+Devious from care to care incessant strays.
+Now, wavering doubt succeeds to long despair;
+Shall I my virgin nuptial vow revere;
+And, joining to my son's my menial train,
+Partake his counsels, and assist his reign?
+Or, since, mature in manhood, he deplores
+His dome dishonour'd, and exhausted stores;
+Shall I, reluctant! to his will accord;
+And from the peers select the noblest lord;
+So by my choice avow'd, at length decide
+These wasteful love-debates, a mourning bride!
+A visionary thought I'll now relate;
+Illustrate, if you know, the shadow'd fate:
+
+"A team of twenty geese (a snow-white train!)
+Fed near the limpid lake with golden grain,
+Amuse my pensive hours. The bird of Jove
+Fierce from his mountain-eyrie downward drove;
+Each favourite fowl he pounced with deathful sway,
+And back triumphant wing'd his airy way.
+My pitying eyes effused a plenteous stream,
+To view their death thus imaged in a dream;
+With tender sympathy to soothe my soul,
+A troop of matrons, fancy-form'd, condole.
+But whilst with grief and rage my bosom burn'd,
+Sudden the tyrant of the skies returned;
+Perch'd on the battlements he thus began
+(In form an eagle, but in voice a man):
+`O queen! no vulgar vision of the sky
+I come, prophetic of approaching joy;
+View in this plumy form thy victor-lord;
+The geese (a glutton race) by thee deplored,
+Portend the suitors fated to my sword.'
+This said, the pleasing feather'd omen ceased.
+When from the downy bands of sleep released,
+Fast by the limpid lake my swan-like train
+I found, insatiate of the golden grain."
+
+"The vision self-explain'd (the chief replies)
+Sincere reveals the sanction of the skies;
+Ulysses speaks his own return decreed;
+And by his sword the suitors sure to bleed."
+
+"Hard is the task, and rare," (the queen rejoin'd,)
+Impending destinies in dreams to find;
+Immured within the silent bower of sleep,
+Two portals firm the various phantoms keep;
+Of ivory one; whence flit, to mock the brain,
+Of winged lies a light fantastic train;
+The gate opposed pellucid valves adorn,
+And columns fair incased with polish'd horn;
+Where images of truth for passage wait,
+With visions manifest of future fate.
+Not to this troop, I fear, that phantom soar'd,
+Which spoke Ulysses to this realm restored;
+Delusive semblance!-but my remnant life
+Heaven shall determine in a gameful strife;
+With that famed bow Ulysses taught to bend,
+For me the rival archers shall contend.
+As on the listed field he used to place
+Six beams, opposed to six in equal space;
+Elanced afar by his unerring art,
+Sure through six circlets flew the whizzing dart.
+So, when the sun restores the purple day,
+Their strength and skill the suitors shall assay;
+To him the spousal honour is decreed,
+Who through the rings directs the feather'd reed.
+Torn from these walls (where long the kinder powers
+With joy and pomp have wing'd my youthful hours!)
+On this poor breast no dawn of bliss shall beam;
+The pleasure past supplies a copious theme
+For many a dreary thought, and many a doleful dream!"
+
+"Propose the sportive lot (the chief replies),
+Nor dread to name yourself the bowyer's prize;
+Ulysses will surprise the unfinish'd game,
+Avow'd, and falsify the suitors' claim."
+
+To whom with grace serene the queen rejoin'd:
+"In all thy speech what pleasing force I find!
+O'er my suspended woe thy words prevail;
+I part reluctant from the pleasing tale,
+But Heaven, that knows what all terrestrials need,
+Repose to night, and toil to day decreed;
+Grateful vicissitudes! yet me withdrawn,
+Wakeful to weep and watch the tardy dawn
+Establish'd use enjoins; to rest and joy
+Estranged, since dear Ulysses sail'd to Troy!
+Meantime instructed is the menial tribe
+Your couch to fashion as yourself prescribe."
+
+Thus affable, her bower the queen ascends;
+The sovereign step a beauteous train attends;
+There imaged to her soul Ulysses rose;
+Down her pale cheek new-streaming sorrow flows;
+Till soft oblivious shade Minerva spread,
+And o'er her eyes ambrosial slumber shed.
+
+
+
+BOOK XX.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+While Ulysses lies in the vestibule of the palace, he is witness
+to the disorders of the women. Minerva comforts him, and casts him
+asleep. At his waking he desires a favourable sign from Jupiter,
+which is granted. The feast of Apollo is celebrated by the people,
+and the suitors banquet in the palace. Telemachus exerts his
+authority amongst them; notwithstanding which, Ulysses is insulted
+by Caesippus, and the rest continue in their excesses. Strange
+prodigies are seen by Theoclymenus, the augur, who explains them
+to the destruction of the wooers.
+
+
+
+An ample hide devine Ulysses spread.
+And form'd of fleecy skins his humble bed
+(The remnants of the spoil the suitor-crowd
+In festival devour'd, and victims vow'd).
+Then o'er the chief, Eurynome the chaste
+With duteous care a downy carpet cast:
+With dire revenge his thoughtful bosom glows,
+And, ruminating wrath, he scorns repose.
+
+As thus pavilion'd in the porch he lay,
+Scenes of lewd loves his wakeful eyes survey,
+Whilst to nocturnal joys impure repair,
+With wanton glee, the prostituted fair.
+His heart with rage this new dishonour stung,
+Wavering his thoughts in dubious balance hung:
+Or instant should he quench the guilty flame
+With their own blood, and intercept the shame:
+Or to their lust indulge a last embrace,
+And let the peers consummate the disgrace
+Round his swoln heart the murmurous fury rolls,
+As o'er her young the mother-mastiff growls,
+And bays the stranger groom: so wrath compress'd,
+Recoiling, mutter'd thunder in his breast.
+"Poor suffering heart! (he cried,) support the pain
+Of wounded honour, and thy rage restrain.
+Not fiercer woes thy fortitude could foil,
+When the brave partners of thy ten years' toil
+Dire Polypheme devour'd; I then was freed
+By patient prudence from the death decreed."
+
+Thus anchor'd safe on reason's peaceful coast,
+Tempests of wrath his soul no longer toss'd;
+Restless his body rolls, to rage resign'd
+As one who long with pale-eyed famine pined,
+The savoury cates on glowing embers cast
+Incessant turns, impatient for repast
+Ulysses so, from side to side-devolved,
+In self-debate the suitor's doom resolved
+When in the form of mortal nymph array'd,
+From heaven descends the Jove-born martial maid;
+And'hovering o'er his head in view confess'd,
+The goddess thus her favourite care address'd:
+
+"O thou, of mortals most inured to woes!
+Why roll those eyes unfriended of repose?
+Beneath thy palace-roof forget thy care;
+Bless'd in thy queen! bless'd in thy blooming heir!
+Whom, to the gods when suppliant fathers bow
+They name the standard of their dearest vow."
+
+"Just is thy kind reproach (the chief rejoin'd),
+Deeds full of fate distract my various mind,
+In contemplation wrapp'd. This hostile crew
+What single arm hath prowess to subdue?
+Or if, by Jove's and thy auxiliar aid,
+They're doom'd to bleed; O say, celestial maid!
+Where shall Ulysses shun, or how sustain
+Nations embattled to revenge the slain?"
+
+"Oh impotence of faith! (Minerva cries,)
+If man on frail unknowing man relies,
+Doubt you the gods? Lo, Pallas' self descends,
+Inspires thy counsels, and thy toils attends.
+In me affianced, fortify thy breast,
+Though myriads leagued thy rightful claim contest
+My sure divinity shall bear the shield,
+And edge thy sword to reap the glorious field.
+Now, pay the debt to craving nature due,
+Her faded powers with balmy rest renew."
+She ceased, ambrosial slumbers seal his eyes;
+Her care dissolves in visionary joys
+The goddess, pleased, regains her natal skies.
+
+Not so the queen; the downy bands of sleep
+By grief relax'd she waked again to weep:
+A gloomy pause ensued of dumb despair;
+Then thus her fate invoked, with fervent prayer
+
+"Diana! speed thy deathful ebon dart,
+And cure the pangs of this convulsive heart.
+Snatch me, ye whirlwinds! far from human race,
+Toss'd through the void illimitable space
+Or if dismounted from the rapid cloud,
+Me with his whelming wave let Ocean shroud!
+So, Pandarus, thy hopes, three orphan fair;
+Were doom'd to wander through the devious air;
+Thyself untimely, and thy consort died,
+But four celestials both your cares supplied.
+Venus in tender delicacy rears
+With honey, milk, and wine their infant years;
+Imperial Juno to their youth assigned
+A form majestic, and sagacious mind;
+With shapely growth Diana graced their bloom;
+And Pallas taught the texture of the loom.
+But whilst, to learn their lots in nuptial love,
+Bright Cytherea sought the bower of Jove
+(The God supreme, to whose eternal eye
+The registers of fate expanded lie;
+Wing'd Harpies snatch the unguarded charge away,
+And to the Furies bore a grateful prey.
+Be such my lot! Or thou, Diana, speed
+Thy shaft, and send me joyful to the dead;
+To seek my lord among the warrior train,
+Ere second vows my bridal faith profane.
+When woes the waking sense alone assail,
+Whilst Night extends her soft oblivious veil,
+Of other wretches' care the torture ends;
+No truce the warfare of my heart suspends!
+The night renews the day distracting theme,
+And airy terrors sable every dream.
+The last alone a kind illusion wrought,
+And to my bed my loved Ulysses brought,
+In manly bloom, and each majestic grace,
+As when for Troy he left my fond embrace;
+Such raptures in my beating bosom rise,
+I deem it sure a vision of the skies."
+
+Thus, whilst Aurora mounts her purple throne,
+In audible laments she breathes her moan;
+The sounds assault Ulysses' wakeful ear;
+Misjudging of the cause, a sudden fear
+Of his arrival known, the chief alarms;
+He thinks the queen is rushing to his arms.
+Upspringing from his couch, with active haste
+The fleece and carpet in the dome he placed
+(The hide, without, imbibed the morning air);
+And thus the gods invoked with ardent prayer:
+
+"Jove, and eternal thrones! with heaven to friend,
+If the long series of my woes shall end;
+Of human race now rising from repose,
+Let one a blissful omen here disclose;
+And, to confirm my faith, propitious Jove!
+Vouchsafe the sanction of a sign above."
+
+Whilst lowly thus the chief adoring bows,
+The pitying god his guardian aid avows.
+Loud from a sapphire sky his thunder sounds;
+With springing hope the hero's heart rebounds.
+Soon, with consummate joy to crown his prayer,
+An omen'd voice invades his ravish'd ear.
+Beneath a pile that close the dome adjoin'd,
+Twelve female slaves the gift of Ceres grind;
+Task'd for the royal board to bolt the bran
+From the pure flour (the growth and strength of man)
+Discharging to the day the labour due,
+Now early to repose the rest withdrew;
+One maid unequal to the task assign'd,
+Still turn'd the toilsome mill with anxious mind;
+And thus in bitterness of soul divined:
+
+"Father of gods and men, whose thunders roll
+O'er the cerulean vault, and shake the pole:
+Whoe'er from Heaven has gain'd this rare ostent
+(Of granted vows a certain signal sent),
+In this blest moment of accepted prayer,
+Piteous, regard a wretch consumed with care!
+Instant, O Jove! confound the suitor-train,
+For whom o'ertoil'd I grind the golden grain:
+Far from this dome the lewd devourers cast,
+And be this festival decreed their last!"
+
+Big with their doom denounced in earth and sky,
+Ulysses' heart dilates with secret joy.
+Meantime the menial train with unctious wood
+Heap'd high the genial hearth, Vulcanian food:
+When, early dress'd, advanced the royal heir;
+With manly grasp he waved a martial spear;
+A radiant sabre graced his purple zone,
+And on his foot the golden sandal shone.
+His steps impetuous to the portal press'd;
+And Euryclea thus he there address'd:
+
+"Say thou to whom my youth its nurture owes,
+Was care for due refection and repose
+Bestow'd the stranger-guest? Or waits he grieved,
+His age not honour'd, nor his wants relieved?
+Promiscuous grace on all the queen confers
+(In woes bewilder'd, oft the wisest errs).
+The wordy vagrant to the dole aspires,
+And modest worth with noble scorn retires."
+
+She thus: "O cease that ever-honour'd name
+To blemish now: it ill deserves your blame,
+A bowl of generous wine sufficed the guest;
+In vain the queen the night refection press'd;
+Nor would he court repose in downy state,
+Unbless'd, abandon'd to the rage of Fate!
+A hide beneath the portico was spread,
+And fleecy skins composed an humble bed;
+A downy carpet cast with duteous care,
+Secured him from the keen nocturnal air."
+
+His cornel javelin poised with regal port,
+To the sage Greeks convened in Themis' court,
+Forth-issuing from the dome the prince repair'd;
+Two dogs of chase, a lion-hearted guard,
+Behind him sourly stalked. Without delay
+The dame divides the labour of the day;
+Thus urging to the toil the menial train;
+
+"What marks of luxury the marble stain
+Its wonted lustre let the floor regain;
+The seats with purple clothe in order due;
+And let the abstersive sponge the board renew;
+Let some refresh the vase's sullied mould;
+Some bid the goblets boast their native gold;
+Some to the spring, with each a jar, repair,
+And copious waters pure for bathing bear;
+Dispatch! for soon the suitors will essay
+The lunar feast-rites to the god of day."
+
+She said: with duteous haste a bevy fair
+Of twenty virgins to the spring repair;
+With varied toils the rest adorn the dome.
+Magnificent, and blithe, the suitors come.
+Some wield the sounding axe; the dodder'd oaks
+Divide, obedient to the forceful strokes.
+Soon from the fount, with each a brimming urn
+(Eumaeus in their train), the maids return.
+Three porkers for the feast, all brawny-chined,
+He brought; the choicest of the tusky-kind;
+In lodgments first secure his care he viewed,
+Then to the king this friendly speech renew'd:
+"Now say sincere, my guest! the suitor-train
+Still treat thy worth with lordly dull disdain;
+Or speaks their deed a bounteous mind humane?"
+
+"Some pitying god (Ulysses sad replied)
+With vollied vengeance blast their towering pride!
+No conscious blush, no sense of right, restrains
+The tides of lust that swell the boiling veins;
+From vice to vice their appetites are toss'd,
+All cheaply sated at another's cost!"
+
+While thus the chief his woes indignant told,
+Melanthius, master of the bearded fold,
+The goodliest goats of all the royal herd
+Spontaneous to the suitors' feast preferr'd;
+Two grooms assistant bore the victims bound;
+With quavering cries the vaulted roofs resound;
+And to the chief austere aloud began
+The wretch unfriendly to the race of man:
+
+"Here vagrant, still? offensive to my lords!
+Blows have more energy than airy words;
+These arguments I'll use: nor conscious shame,
+Nor threats, thy bold intrusion will reclaim.
+On this high feast the meanest vulgar boast
+A plenteous board! Hence! seek another host!"
+
+Rejoinder to the churl the king disdain'd,
+But shook his head, and rising wrath restrain'd.
+
+From Cephanelia 'cross the surgy main
+Philaetius late arrived, a faithful swain.
+A steer ungrateful to the bull's embrace.
+And goats he brought, the pride of all their race;
+Imported in a shallop not his own;
+The dome re-echoed to the mingl'd moan.
+Straight to the guardian of the bristly kind
+He thus began, benevolent of mind:
+
+"What guest is he, of such majestic air?
+His lineage and paternal clime declare:
+Dim through the eclipse of fate, the rays divine
+Of sovereign state with faded splendour shine.
+If monarchs by the gods are plunged in woe,
+To what abyss are we foredoom'd to go!"
+Then affable he thus the chief address'd,
+Whilst with pathetic warmth his hand he press'd:
+
+"Stranger, may fate a milder aspect show,
+And spin thy future with a whiter clue!
+O Jove! for ever death to human cries;
+The tyrant, not the father of the skies!
+Unpiteous of the race thy will began!
+The fool of fate, thy manufacture, man,
+With penury, contempt, repulse, and care,
+The galling load of life is doom'd to bear.
+Ulysses from his state a wanderer still,
+Upbraids thy power, thy wisdom, or thy will!
+O monarch ever dear!-O man of woe!
+Fresh flow my tears, and shall for ever flow!
+Like thee, poor stranger guest, denied his home,
+Like thee: in rags obscene decreed to roam!
+Or, haply perish'd on some distant coast,
+In stygian gloom he glides, a pensive ghost!
+Oh, grateful for the good his bounty gave,
+I'll grieve, till sorrow sink me to the grave!
+His kind protecting hand my youth preferr'd,
+The regent of his Cephalenian herd;
+With vast increase beneath my care it spreads:
+A stately breed! and blackens far the meads.
+Constrain'd, the choicest beeves I thence import,
+To cram these cormorants that crowd his court:
+Who in partition seek his realm to share;
+Nor human right nor wrath divine revere,
+Since here resolved oppressive these reside,
+Contending doubts my anxious heart divide:
+Now to some foreign clime inclined to fly,
+And with the royal herd protection buy;
+Then, happier thoughts return the nodding scale,
+Light mounts despair, alternate hopes prevail:
+In opening prospects of ideal joy,
+My king returns; the proud usurpers die."
+
+To whom the chief: "In thy capacious mind
+Since daring zeal with cool debate is join'd,
+Attend a deed already ripe in fate:
+Attest, O Jove! the truth I now relate!
+This sacred truth attest, each genial power,
+Who bless the board, and guard this friendly bower!
+Before thou quit the dome (nor long delay)
+Thy wish produced in act, with pleased survey,
+Thy wondering eyes shall view: his rightful reign
+By arms avow'd Ulysses shall regain,
+And to the shades devote the suitor-train."
+
+"O Jove supreme! (the raptured swain replies,)
+With deeds consummate soon the promised joys!
+These aged nerves, with new-born vigour strung,
+In that blest cause should emulate the young."
+Assents Eumaeus to the prayer address'd;
+And equal ardours fire his loyal breast.
+
+Meantime the suitors urge the prince's fate,
+And deathful arts employ the dire debate:
+When in his airy tour, the bird of Jove
+Truss'd with his sinewy pounce a trembling dove;
+Sinister to their hope! This omen eyed
+Amphinomus, who thus presaging cried:
+
+"The gods from force and fraud the prince defend;
+O peers! the sanguinary scheme suspend:
+Your future thought let sable fate employ;
+And give the present hour to genial joy."
+
+From council straight the assenting peerage ceased,
+And in the dome prepared the genial feast.
+Disrobed, their vests apart in order lay,
+Then all with speed succinct the victims slay:
+With sheep and shaggy goats the porkers bled,
+And the proud steer was on the marble spread.
+With fire prepared, they deal the morsels round,
+Wine, rosy-bright, the brimming goblets crown'd,
+By sage Eumaeus borne; the purple tide
+Melanthius from an ample jar supplied:
+High canisters of bread Philaetius placed;
+And eager all devour the rich repast.
+Disposed apart, Ulysses shares the treat;
+A trivet table, and ignobler seat,
+The prince appoints; but to his sire assigns
+The tasteful inwards, and nectareous wines.
+"Partake, my guest (he cried), without control
+The social feast, and drain the cheering bowl:
+Dread not the railer's laugh, nor ruffian's rage;
+No vulgar roof protects thy honour'd age;
+This dome a refuge to thy wrongs shall be,
+From my great sire too soon devolved to me!
+Your violence and scorn, ye suitors, cease,
+Lest arms avenge the violated peace."
+
+Awed by the prince, so haughty, brave, and young,
+Rage gnaw'd the lip, amazement chain'd the tongue.
+"Be patient, peers! (at length Antinous cries,)
+The threats of vain imperious youth despise:
+Would Jove permit the meditated blow,
+That stream of eloquence should cease to flow."
+
+Without reply vouchsafed, Antinous ceased:
+Meanwhile the pomp of festival increased:
+By heralds rank'd; in marshall'd order move
+The city tribes, to pleased Apollo's grove:
+Beneath the verdure of which awful shade,
+The lunar hecatomb they grateful laid;
+Partook the sacred feast, and ritual honours paid.
+But the rich banquet, in the dome prepared
+(An humble sideboard set) Ulysses shared.
+Observant of the prince's high behest,
+His menial train attend the stranger-guest;
+Whom Pallas with unpardoning fury fired,
+By lordly pride and keen reproach inspired.
+A Samian peer, more studious than the rest
+Of vice, who teem'd with many a dead-born jest;
+And urged, for title to a consort queen,
+Unnumber'd acres arable and green
+(Otesippus named); this lord Ulysses eyed,
+And thus burst out the imposthumate with pride:
+
+"The sentence I propose, ye peers, attend:
+Since due regard must wait the prince's friend,
+Let each a token of esteem bestow:
+This gift acquits the dear respect I owe;
+With which he nobly may discharge his seat,
+And pay the menials for a master's treat."
+
+He said: and of the steer before him placed,
+That sinewy fragment at Ulysses cast,
+Where to the pastern-bone, by nerves combined,
+The well-horn'd foot indissolubly join'd;
+Which whizzing high, the wall unseemly sign'd.
+The chief indignant grins a ghastly smile;
+Revenge and scorn within his bosom boil:
+When thus the prince with pious rage inflamed:
+"Had not the inglorious wound thy malice aim'd
+Fall'n guiltless of the mark, my certain spear
+Had made thee buy the brutal triumph dear:
+Nor should thy sire a queen his daughter boast;
+The suitor, now, had vanish'd in a ghost:
+No more, ye lewd compeers, with lawless power
+Invade my dome, my herds and flocks devour:
+For genuine worth, of age mature to know,
+My grape shall redden, and my harvest grow
+Or, if each other's wrongs ye still support,
+With rapes and riot to profane my court;
+What single arm with numbers can contend?
+On me let all your lifted swords descend,
+And with my life such vile dishonours end."
+
+A long cessation of discourse ensued,
+By gentler Agelaus thus renew'd:
+
+"A just reproof, ye peers! your rage restrain
+From the protected guest, and menial train:
+And, prince! to stop the source of future ill,
+Assent yourself, and gain the royal will.
+Whilst hope prevail'd to see your sire restored,
+Of right the queen refused a second lord:
+But who so vain of faith, so blind to fate,
+To think he still survives to claim the state?
+Now press the sovereign dame with warm desire
+To wed, as wealth or worth her choice inspire:
+The lord selected to the nuptial joys
+Far hence will lead the long-contested prize:
+Whilst in paternal pomp with plenty bless'd,
+You reign, of this imperial dome possess'd."
+
+Sage and serene Telemachus replies:
+"By him at whose behest the thunder flies,
+And by the name on earth I most revere,
+By great Ulysses and his woes I swear!
+(Who never must review his dear domain;
+Enroll'd, perhaps, in Pluto's dreary train),
+Whene'er her choice the royal dame avows,
+My bridal gifts shall load the future spouse:
+But from this dome my parent queen to chase!
+From me, ye gods! avert such dire disgrace."
+
+But Pallas clouds with intellectual gloom
+The suitors' souls, insensate of their doom!
+A mirthful frenzy seized the fated crowd;
+The roofs resound with causeless laughter loud;
+Floating in gore, portentous to survey!
+In each discolour'd vase the viands lay;
+Then down each cheek the tears spontaneous flow
+And sudden sighs precede approaching woe.
+In vision wrapp'd, the Hyperesian seer
+Uprose, and thus divined the vengeance near:
+
+"O race to death devote! with Stygian shade
+Each destin'd peer impending fates invade;
+With tears your wan distorted cheeks are drown'd;
+With sanguine drops the walls are rubied round:
+Thick swarms the spacious hall with howling ghosts,
+To people Orcus, and the burning coasts!
+Nor gives the sun his golden orb to roll,
+But universal night usurps the pole!"
+
+Yet warn'd in vain, with laughter loud elate
+The peers reproach the sure divine of Fate;
+And thus Eurymachus: "The dotard's mind
+To every sense is lost, to reason blind;
+Swift from the dome conduct the slave away;
+Let him in open air behold the day."
+
+"Tax not (the heaven-illumined seer rejoin'd)
+Of rage, or folly, my prophetic mind,
+No clouds of error dim the ethereal rays,
+Her equal power each faithful sense obeys.
+Unguided hence my trembling steps I bend,
+Far hence, before yon hovering deaths descend;
+Lest the ripe harvest of revenge begun,
+I share the doom ye suitors cannot shun."
+
+This said, to sage Piraeus sped the seer,
+His honour'd host, a welcome inmate there.
+O'er the protracted feast the suitors sit,
+And aim to wound the prince with pointless wit:
+Cries one, with scornful leer and mimic voice,
+"Thy charity we praise, but not thy choice;
+Why such profusion of indulgence shown
+To this poor, timorous, toil-detesting drone?
+That others feeds on planetary schemes,
+And pays his host with hideous noon-day dreams.
+But, prince! for once at least believe a friend;
+To some Sicilian mart these courtiers send,
+Where, if they yield their freight across the main,
+Dear sell the slaves! demand no greater gain."
+
+Thus jovial they; but nought the prince replies;
+Full on his sire he roll'd his ardent eyes:
+Impatient straight to flesh his virgin-sword;
+From the wise chief he waits the deathful word.
+Nigh in her bright alcove, the pensive queen
+To see the circle sate, of all unseen.
+Sated at length they rise, and bid prepare
+An eve-repast, with equal cost and care:
+But vengeful Pallas, with preventing speed,
+A feast proportion'd to their crimes decreed;
+A feast of death, the feasters doom'd to bleed!
+
+
+
+BOOK XXI.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+THE BENDING OF ULYSSES' BOW.
+
+Penelope, to put an end to the solicitation of the suitors,
+proposes to marry the person who shall first bend the bow of
+Ulysses, and shoot through the ringlets. After their attempts have
+proved ineffectual, Ulysses, taking Eumaeus and Philaetius apart,
+discovers himself to them; then returning, desires leave to try
+his strength at the bow, which, though refused with indignation by
+the suitors, Penelope and Telemachus cause it to be delivered to
+his hands. He bends it immediately, and shoots through all the
+rings. Jupiter at the same instant thunders from heaven; Ulysses
+accepts the omen, and gives a sign to Telemachus, who stands ready
+armed at his side.
+
+
+
+And Pallas now, to raise the rivals' fires,
+With her own art Penelope inspires
+Who now can bend Ulysses' bow, and wing
+The well-aim'd arrow through the distant ring,
+Shall end the strife, and win the imperial dame:
+But discord and black death await the game!
+
+The prudent queen the lofty stair ascends:
+At distance due a virgin-train attends;
+A brazen key she held, the handle turn'd,
+With steel and polish'd elephant adorn'd:
+Swift to the inmost room she bent her way,
+Where, safe reposed, the royal treasures lay:
+There shone high heap'd the labour'd brass and ore,
+And there the bow which great Ulysses bore;
+And there the quiver, where now guiltless slept
+Those winged deaths that many a matron wept.
+
+This gift, long since when Sparta's shore he trod,
+On young Ulysses Iphitus bestowed:
+Beneath Orsilochus' roof they met;
+One loss was private, one a public debt;
+Messena's state from Ithaca detains
+Three hundred sheep, and all the shepherd swains;
+And to the youthful prince to urge the laws,
+The king and elders trust their common cause.
+But Iphitus, employed on other cares,
+Search'd the wide country for his wandering mares,
+And mules, the strongest of the labouring kind;
+Hapless to search; more hapless still to find!
+For journeying on to Hercules, at length
+That lawless wretch, that man of brutal strength,
+Deaf to Heaven's voice, the social rites transgress'd;
+And for the beauteous mares destroy'd his guest.
+He gave the bow; and on Ulysses' part
+Received a pointed sword, and missile dart:
+Of luckless friendship on a foreign shore
+Their first, last pledges! for they met no more.
+The bow, bequeath'd by this unhappy hand,
+Ulysses bore not from his native land;
+Nor in the front of battle taught to bend,
+But kept in dear memorial of his friend.
+
+Now gently winding up the fair ascent,
+By many an easy step the matron went;
+Then o'er the pavement glides with grace divine
+(With polish'd oak the level pavements shine);
+The folding gates a dazzling light display'd,
+With pomp of various architrave o'erlaid.
+The bolt, obedient to the silken string,
+Forsakes the staple as she pulls the ring;
+The wards respondent to the key turn round;
+The bars fall back; the flying valves resound;
+Loud as a bull makes hill and valley ring,
+So roar'd the lock when it released the spring.
+She moves majestic through the wealthy room,
+Where treasured garments cast a rich perfume;
+There from the column where aloft it hung,
+Reach'd in its splendid case, the bow unstrung;
+Across her knees she laid the well-known bow,
+And pensive sate, and tears began to flow.
+To full satiety of grief she mourns,
+Then silent to the joyous hall returns,
+To the proud suitors bears in pensive state
+The unbended bow, and arrows winged with fate.
+
+Behind, her train the polish'd coffer brings,
+Which held the alternate brass and silver rings.
+Full in the portal the chaste queen appears,
+And with her veil conceals the coming tears:
+On either side awaits a virgin fair;
+While thus the matron, with majestic air:
+
+"Say you, when these forbidden walls inclose,
+For whom my victims bleed, my vintage flows:
+If these neglected, faded charms can move?
+Or is it but a vain pretence, you love?
+If I the prize, if me you seek to wife,
+Hear the conditions, and commence the strife.
+Who first Ulysses' wondrous bow shall bend,
+And through twelve ringlets the fleet arrow send;
+Him will I follow, and forsake my home,
+For him forsake this loved, this wealthy dome,
+Long, long the scene of all my past delight,
+And still to last, the vision of my night!"
+
+Graceful she said, and bade Eumaeus show
+The rival peers the ringlets and the bow.
+From his full eyes the tears unbidden spring,
+Touch'd at the dear memorials of his king.
+Philaetius too relents, but secret shed
+The tender drops. Antinous saw, and said:
+
+"Hence to your fields, ye rustics! hence away,
+Nor stain with grief the pleasures of the day;
+Nor to the royal heart recall in vain
+The sad remembrance of a perish'd man.
+Enough her precious tears already flow--
+Or share the feast with due respect; or go
+To weep abroad, and leave to us the bow,
+No vulgar task! Ill suits this courtly crew
+That stubborn horn which brave Ulysses drew.
+I well remember (for I gazed him o'er
+While yet a child), what majesty he bore!
+And still (all infant as I was) retain
+The port, the strength, the grandeur of the man."
+
+He said, but in his soul fond joys arise,
+And his proud hopes already win the prize.
+To speed the flying shaft through every ring,
+Wretch! is not thine: the arrows of the king
+Shall end those hopes, and fate is on the wing!
+
+Then thus Telemachus: "Some god I find
+With pleasing frenzy has possess'd my mind;
+When a loved mother threatens to depart,
+Why with this ill-timed gladness leaps my heart?
+Come then, ye suitors! and dispute a prize
+Richer than all the Achaian state supplies,
+Than all proud Argos, or Mycaena knows,
+Than all our isles or continents inclose;
+A woman matchless, and almost divine,
+Fit for the praise of every tongue but mine.
+No more excuses then, no more delay;
+Haste to the trial--Lo! I lead the way.
+
+"I too may try, and if this arm can wing
+The feather'd arrow through the destined ring,
+Then if no happier night the conquest boast,
+I shall not sorrow for a mother lost;
+But, bless'd in her, possess those arms alone,
+Heir of my father's strength, as well as throne."
+
+He spoke; then rising, his broad sword unbound,
+And cast his purple garment on the ground.
+A trench he open'd: in a line he placed.
+The level axes, and the points made fast
+(His perfect skill the wondering gazers eyed,
+The game as yet unseen, as yet untried).
+Then, with a manly pace, he took his stand:
+And grasp'd the bow, and twang'd it in his hand.
+Three times, with beating heart, he made essay:
+Three times, unequal to the task, gave way;
+A modest boldness on his cheek appear'd:
+And thrice he hoped, and thrice again he fear'd.
+The fourth had drawn it. The great sire with joy
+Beheld, but with a sign forbade the boy.
+His ardour straight the obedient prince suppress'd,
+And, artful, thus the suitor-train address'd:
+
+"O lay the cause on youth yet immature!
+(For heaven forbid such weakness should endure!)
+How shall this arm, unequal to the bow,
+Retort an insult, or repel a foe?
+But you! whom Heaven with better nerves has bless'd,
+Accept the trial, and the prize contest."
+
+He cast the bow before him, and apart
+Against the polish'd quiver propp'd the dart.
+Resuming then his seat, Eupithes' son,
+The bold Antinous, to the rest begun:
+"From where the goblet first begins to flow,
+From right to left in order take the bow;
+And prove your several strengths." The princes heard
+And first Leiodes, blameless priest'd, appear'd:
+The eldest born of Oenops' noble race,
+Who next the goblet held his holy place:
+He, only he, of all the suitor throng,
+Their deeds detested, and abjured the wrong.
+With tender hands the stubborn horn he strains,
+The stubborn horn resisted all his pains!
+Already in despair he gives it o'er:
+"Take it who will (he cries), I strive no more,
+What numerous deaths attend this fatal bow!
+What souls and spirits shall it send below!
+Better, indeed, to die, and fairly give
+Nature her debt, than disappointed live,
+With each new sun to some new hope a prey,
+Yet still to-morrow falser than to-day.
+How long in vain Penelope we sought!
+This bow shall ease us of that idle thought,
+And send us with some humbler wife to live,
+Whom gold shall gain, or destiny shall give."
+
+Thus speaking, on the floor the bow he placed
+(With rich inlay the various floor was graced):
+At distance far the feather'd shaft he throws,
+And to the seat returns from whence he rose.
+
+To him Antinous thus with fury said:
+"What words ill-omen'd from thy lips have fled?
+Thy coward-function ever is in fear!
+Those arms are dreadful which thou canst not bear,
+Why should this bow be fatal to the brave?
+Because the priest is born a peaceful slave.
+Mark then what others can." He ended there,
+And bade Melanthius a vast pile prepare;
+He gives it instant flame, then fast beside
+Spreads o'er an ample board a bullock's hide.
+With melted lard they soak the weapon o'er,
+Chafe every knot, and supple every pore.
+Vain all their art, and all their strength as vain;
+The bow inflexible resists their pain.
+The force of great Eurymachus alone
+And bold Antinous, yet untired, unknown:
+Those only now remain'd; but those confess'd
+Of all the train the mightiest and the best.
+
+Then from the hall, and from the noisy crew,
+The masters of the herd and flock withdrew.
+The king observes them, he the hall forsakes,
+And, past the limits of the court, o'ertakes.
+Then thus with accent mild Ulysses spoke:
+"Ye faithful guardians of the herd and flock!
+Shall I the secret of my breast conceal,
+Or (as my soul now dictates) shall I tell?
+Say, should some favouring god restore again
+The lost Ulysses to his native reign,
+How beat your hearts? what aid would you afford
+To the proud suitors, or your ancient lord?"
+
+Philaetius thus: "O were thy word not vain!
+Would mighty Jove restore that man again!
+These aged sinews, with new vigour strung,
+In his blest cause should emulate the young."
+With equal vows Eumaeus too implored
+Each power above, with wishes for his lord.
+
+He saw their secret souls, and thus began:
+"Those vows the gods accord; behold the man!
+Your own Ulysses! twice ten years detain'd
+By woes and wanderings from this hapless land:
+At length he comes; but comes despised, unknown,
+And finding faithful you, and you alone.
+All else have cast him from their very thought,
+E'en in their wishes and their prayers forgot!
+Hear then, my friends: If Jove this arm succeed,
+And give yon impious revellers to bleed,
+My care shall be to bless your future lives
+With large possessions and with faithful wives;
+Fast by my palace shall your domes ascend,
+And each on young Telemachus attend,
+And each be call'd his brother and my friend.
+To give you firmer faith, now trust your eye;
+Lo! the broad scar indented on my thigh,
+When with Autolycus' sons, of yore,
+On Parnass' top I chased the tusky boar."
+His ragged vest then drawn aside disclosed
+The sign conspicuous, and the scar exposed:
+Eager they view'd, with joy they stood amazed
+With tearful eyes o'er all their master gazed:
+Around his neck their longing arms they cast,
+His head, his shoulders, and his knees embraced;
+Tears followed tears; no word was in their power;
+In solemn silence fell the kindly shower.
+The king too weeps, the king too grasps their hands;
+And moveless, as a marble fountain, stands.
+
+Thus had their joy wept down the setting sun,
+But first the wise man ceased, and thus begun:
+"Enough--on other cares your thought employ,
+For danger waits on all untimely joy.
+Full many foes and fierce, observe us near;
+Some may betray, and yonder walls may hear.
+Re-enter then, not all at once, but stay
+Some moments you, and let me lead the way.
+To me, neglected as I am I know
+The haughty suitors will deny the bow;
+But thou, Eumaeus, as 'tis borne away,
+Thy master's weapon to his hand convey.
+At every portal let some matron wait,
+And each lock fast the well-compacted gate:
+Close let them keep, whate'er invades their ear;
+Though arms, or shouts, or dying groans they hear.
+To thy strict charge, Philaetius, we consign
+The court's main gate: to guard that pass be thine."
+
+This said, he first return'd; the faithful swains
+At distance follow, as their king ordains.
+Before the flame Eurymachus now stands,
+And turns the bow, and chafes it with his hands
+Still the tough bow unmoved. The lofty man
+Sigh'd from his mighty soul, and thus began:
+
+"I mourn the common cause: for, oh, my friends,
+On me, on all, what grief, what shame attends!
+Not the lost nuptials can affect me more
+(For Greece has beauteous dames on every shore),
+But baffled thus! confess'd so far below
+Ulysses' strength, as not to bend his bow!
+How shall all ages our attempt deride!
+Our weakness scorn!" Antinous thus replied:
+
+"Not so, Eurymachus: that no man draws
+The wondrous bow, attend another cause.
+Sacred to Phoebus is the solemn day,
+Which thoughtless we in games would waste away:
+Till the next dawn this ill-timed strife forego,
+And here leave fixed the ringlets in a row.
+Now bid the sewer approach, and let us join
+In due libations, and in rites divine,
+So end our night: before the day shall spring,
+The choicest offerings let Melanthius bring:
+Let then to Phoebus' name the fatted thighs
+Feed the rich smokes high curling to the skies.
+So shall the patron of these arts bestow
+(For his the gift) the skill to bend the bow."
+
+They heard well pleased: the ready heralds bring
+The cleansing waters from the limpid spring:
+The goblet high with rosy wine they crown'd,
+In order circling to the peers around.
+That rite complete, uprose the thoughtful man,
+And thus his meditated scheme began:
+
+"If what I ask your noble minds approve,
+Ye peers and rivals in the royal love!
+Chief, if it hurt not great Antinous' ear
+(Whose sage decision I with wonder hear),
+And if Eurymachus the motion please:
+Give Heaven this day and rest the bow in peace.
+To-morrow let your arms dispute the prize,
+And take it he, the favour'd of the skies!
+But, since till then this trial you delay,
+Trust it one moment to my hands to-day:
+Fain would I prove, before your judging eyes,
+What once I was, whom wretched you despise:
+If yet this arm its ancient force retain;
+Or if my woes (a long-continued train)
+And wants and insults, make me less than man."
+
+Rage flash'd in lightning from the suitors' eyes,
+Yet mixed with terror at the bold emprise.
+Antinous then: "O miserable guest!
+Is common sense quite banish'd from thy breast?
+Sufficed it not, within the palace placed,
+To sit distinguish'd, with our presence graced,
+Admitted here with princes to confer,
+A man unknown, a needy wanderer?
+To copious wine this insolence we owe,
+And much thy betters wine can overthrow:
+The great Eurytian when this frenzy stung,
+Pirithous' roofs with frantic riot rung;
+Boundless the Centaur raged; till one and all
+The heroes rose, and dragg'd him from the hall;
+His nose they shorten'd, and his ears they slit,
+And sent him sober'd home, with better wit.
+Hence with long war the double race was cursed,
+Fatal to all, but to the aggressor first.
+Such fate I prophesy our guest attends,
+If here this interdicted bow he bends:
+Nor shall these walls such insolence contain:
+The first fair wind transports him o'er the main,
+Where Echetus to death the guilty brings
+(The worst of mortals, e'en the worst of kings).
+Better than that, if thou approve our cheer;
+Cease the mad strife and share our bounty here."
+
+To this the queen her just dislike express'd:
+
+"'Tis impious, prince, to harm the stranger-guest,
+Base to insult who bears a suppliant's name,
+And some respect Telemachus may claim.
+What if the immortals on the man bestow
+Sufficient strength to draw the mighty bow?
+Shall I, a queen, by rival chiefs adored,
+Accept a wandering stranger for my lord?
+A hope so idle never touch'd his brain:
+Then ease your bosoms of a fear so vain.
+Far be he banish'd from this stately scene
+Who wrongs his princess with a thought so mean."
+
+"O fair! and wisest of so fair a kind!
+(Respectful thus Eurymachus rejoin'd,)
+Moved by no weak surmise, but sense of shame,
+We dread the all-arraigning voice of Fame:
+We dread the censure of the meanest slave,
+The weakest woman: all can wrong the brave.
+'Behold what wretches to the bed pretend
+Of that brave chief whose bow they could not bend!
+In came a beggar of the strolling crew,
+And did what all those princes could not do.'
+Thus will the common voice our deed defame,
+And thus posterity upbraid our name."
+
+To whom the queen: "If fame engage your views,
+Forbear those acts which infamy pursues;
+Wrong and oppression no renown can raise;
+Know, friend! that virtue is the path to praise.
+The stature of our guest, his port, his face,
+Speak him descended from no vulgar race.
+To him the bow, as he desires, convey;
+And to his hand if Phoebus give the day,
+Hence, to reward his merit, be shall bear
+A two-edged falchion and a shining spear,
+Embroider'd sandals, a rich cloak and vest,
+A safe conveyance to his port of rest."
+
+"O royal mother! ever-honour'd name!
+Permit me (cries Telemachus) to claim
+A son's just right. No Grecian prince but I
+Has power this bow to grant or to deny.
+Of all that Ithaca's rough hills contain,
+And all wide Elis' courser-breeding plain,
+To me alone my father's arms descend;
+And mine alone they are, to give or lend.
+Retire, O queen! thy household task resume,
+Tend, with thy maids, the labours of thy loom;
+The bow, the darts, and arms of chivalry,
+These cares to man belong, and most to me."
+
+Mature beyond his years, the queen admired
+His sage reply, and with her train retired;
+There in her chamber as she sate apart,
+Revolved his words, and placed them in her heart.
+On her Ulysses then she fix'd her soul;
+Down her fair cheek the tears abundant roll,
+Till gentle Pallas, piteous of her cries,
+In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes.
+
+Now through the press the bow Eumaeus bore,
+And all was riot, noise, and wild uproar.
+"Hold! lawless rustic! whither wilt thou go?
+To whom, insensate, dost thou bear the bow?
+Exiled for this to some sequester'd den,
+Far from the sweet society of men,
+To thy own dogs a prey thou shalt be made;
+If Heaven and Phoebus lend the suitors aid."
+Thus they. Aghast he laid the weapon down,
+But bold Telemachus thus urged him on:
+"Proceed, false slave, and slight their empty words:
+What! hopes the fool to please so many lords?
+Young as I am, thy prince's vengeful hand
+Stretch'd forth in wrath shall drive thee from the land.
+Oh! could the vigour of this arm as well
+The oppressive suitors from my walls expel!
+Then what a shoal of lawless men should go
+To fill with tumult the dark courts below!"
+
+The suitors with a scornful smile survey
+The youth, indulging in the genial day.
+Eumaeus, thus encouraged, hastes to bring
+The strifeful bow and gives it to the king.
+Old Euryclea calling them aside,
+"Hear what Telemachus enjoins (he cried):
+At every portal let some matron wait,
+And each lock fast the well-compacted gate;
+And if unusual sounds invade their ear,
+If arms, or shouts, or dying groans they hear,
+Let none to call or issue forth presume,
+But close attend the labours of the loom."
+
+Her prompt obedience on his order waits;
+Closed in an instant were the palace gates.
+In the same moment forth Philaetius flies,
+Secures the court, and with a cable ties
+The utmost gate (the cable strongly wrought
+Of Byblos' reed, a ship from Egypt brought);
+Then unperceived and silent at the board
+His seat he takes, his eyes upon his lord.
+
+And now his well-known bow the master bore,
+Turn'd on all sides, and view'd it o'er and o'er;
+Lest time or worms had done the weapon wrong,
+Its owner absent, and untried so long.
+While some deriding--"How he turns the bow!
+Some other like it sure the man must know,
+Or else would copy; or in bows he deals;
+Perhaps he makes them, or perhaps he steals."
+"Heaven to this wretch (another cried) be kind!
+And bless, in all to which he stands inclined.
+With such good fortune as he now shall find."
+
+Heedless he heard them: but disdain'd reply;
+The bow perusing with exactest eye.
+Then, as some heavenly minstrel, taught to sing
+High notes responsive to the trembling string,
+To some new strain when he adapts the lyre,
+Or the dumb lute refits with vocal wire,
+Relaxes, strains, and draws them to and fro;
+So the great master drew the mighty bow,
+And drew with ease. One hand aloft display'd
+The bending horns, and one the string essay'd.
+From his essaying hand the string, let fly,
+Twang'd short and sharp like the shrill swallow's cry.
+A general horror ran through all the race,
+Sunk was each heart, and pale was every face,
+Signs from above ensued: the unfolding sky
+In lightning burst; Jove thunder'd from on high.
+Fired at the call of heaven's almighty Lord,
+He snatch'd the shaft that glitter'd on the board
+(Fast by, the rest lay sleeping in the sheath,
+But soon to fly the messengers of death).
+
+Now sitting as he was, the cord he drew,
+Through every ringlet levelling his view:
+Then notch'd the shaft, released, and gave it wing;
+The whizzing arrow vanished from the string,
+Sung on direct, and threaded every ring.
+The solid gate its fury scarcely bounds;
+Pierced through and through the solid gate resounds,
+Then to the prince: "Nor have I wrought thee shame;
+Nor err'd this hand unfaithful to its aim;
+Nor prov'd the toil too hard; nor have I lost
+That ancient vigour, once my pride and boast.
+Ill I deserved these haughty peers' disdain;
+Now let them comfort their dejected train,
+In sweet repast their present hour employ,
+Nor wait till evening for the genial joy:
+Then to the lute's soft voice prolong the night;
+Music, the banquet's most refined delight."
+
+He said, then gave a nod; and at the word
+Telemachus girds on his shining sword.
+Fast by his father's side he takes his stand:
+The beamy javelin lightens in his hand.
+
+
+
+BOOK XXII.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+THE DEATH OF THE SUITORS.
+
+Ulysses begins the slaughter of the suitors by the death of
+Antinous. He declares himself, and lets fly his arrows at the
+rest. Telemachus assists and brings arms for his father, himself,
+Eumaeus, and Philaetius. Melanthius does the same for the wooers.
+Minerva encourages Ulysses in the shape of Mentor. The suitors are
+all slain, only Medon and Phemius are spared. Melanthius and the
+unfaithful servants are executed. The rest acknowledge their
+master with all demonstrations of joy.
+
+
+
+Then fierce the hero o'er the threshold strode;
+Stripp'd of his rags, he blazed out like a god.
+Full in their face the lifted bow he bore,
+And quiver'd deaths, a formidable store;
+Before his feet the rattling shower he threw,
+And thus, terrific, to the suitor-crew:
+
+"One venturous game this hand hath won to-day,
+Another, princes! yet remains to play;
+Another mark our arrow must attain.
+Phoebus, assist! nor be the labour vain."
+Swift as the word the parting arrow sings,
+And bears thy fate, Antinous, on its wings:
+Wretch that he was, of unprophetic soul!
+High in his hands he rear'd the golden bowl!
+E'en then to drain it lengthen'd out his breath;
+Changed to the deep, the bitter draught of death:
+For fate who fear'd amidst a feastful band?
+And fate to numbers, by a single hand?
+Full through his throat Ulysses' weapon pass'd,
+And pierced his neck. He falls, and breathes his last.
+The tumbling goblet the wide floor o'erflows,
+A stream of gore burst spouting from his nose;
+Grim in convulsive agonies be sprawls:
+Before him spurn'd the loaded table falls,
+And spreads the pavement with a mingled flood
+Of floating meats, and wine, and human blood.
+Amazed, confounded, as they saw him fall,
+Up rose he throngs tumultuous round the hall:
+O'er all the dome they cast a haggard eye,
+Each look'd for arms--in vain; no arms were nigh:
+"Aim'st thou at princes? (all amazed they said;)
+Thy last of games unhappy hast thou play'd;
+Thy erring shaft has made our bravest bleed,
+And death, unlucky guest, attends thy deed.
+Vultures shall tear thee." Thus incensed they spoke,
+While each to chance ascribed the wondrous stroke:
+Blind as they were: for death e'en now invades
+His destined prey, and wraps them all in shades.
+Then, grimly frowning, with a dreadful look,
+That wither'd all their hearts, Ulysses spoke:
+
+"Dogs, ye have had your day! ye fear'd no more
+Ulysses vengeful from the Trojan shore;
+While, to your lust and spoil a guardless prey,
+Our house, our wealth, our helpless handmaids lay:
+Not so content, with bolder frenzy fired,
+E'en to our bed presumptuous you aspired:
+Laws or divine or human fail'd to move,
+Or shame of men, or dread of gods above;
+Heedless alike of infamy or praise,
+Or Fame's eternal voice in future days;
+The hour of vengeance, wretches, now is come;
+Impending fate is yours, and instant doom."
+
+Thus dreadful he. Confused the suitors stood,
+From their pale cheeks recedes the flying blood:
+Trembling they sought their guilty heads to hide.
+Alone the bold Eurymachus replied:
+
+"If, as thy words import (he thus began),
+Ulysses lives, and thou the mighty man,
+Great are thy wrongs, and much hast thou sustain'd
+In thy spoil'd palace, and exhausted land;
+The cause and author of those guilty deeds,
+Lo! at thy feet unjust Antinous bleeds
+Not love, but wild ambition was his guide;
+To slay thy son, thy kingdom to divide,
+These were his aims; but juster Jove denied.
+Since cold in death the offender lies, oh spare
+Thy suppliant people, and receive their prayer!
+Brass, gold, and treasures, shall the spoil defray,
+Two hundred oxen every prince shall pay:
+The waste of years refunded in a day.
+Till then thy wrath is just." Ulysses burn'd
+With high disdain, and sternly thus return'd:
+
+"All, all the treasure that enrich'd our throne
+Before your rapines, join'd with all your own,
+If offer'd, vainly should for mercy call;
+'Tis you that offer, and I scorn them all;
+Your blood is my demand, your lives the prize,
+Till pale as yonder wretch each suitor lies.
+Hence with those coward terms; or fight or fly;
+This choice is left you, to resist or die:
+And die I trust ye shall." He sternly spoke:
+With guilty fears the pale assembly shook.
+Alone Eurymachus exhorts the train:
+"Yon archer, comrades, will not shoot in vain;
+But from the threshold shall his darts be sped,
+(Whoe'er he be), till every prince lie dead?
+Be mindful of yourselves, draw forth your swords,
+And to his shafts obtend these ample boards
+(So need compels). Then, all united, strive
+The bold invader from his post to drive:
+The city roused shall to our rescue haste,
+And this mad archer soon have shot his last."
+Swift as he spoke, he drew his traitor sword,
+And like a lion rush'd against his lord:
+The wary chief the rushing foe repress'd,
+Who met the point and forced it in his breast:
+His falling hand deserts the lifted sword,
+And prone he falls extended o'er the board!
+Before him wide, in mix'd effusion roll
+The untasted viands, and the jovial bowl.
+Full through his liver pass'd the mortal wound,
+With dying rage his forehead beats the ground;
+He spurn'd the seat with fury as he fell,
+And the fierce soul to darkness dived, and hell.
+Next bold Amphinomus his arm extends
+To force the pass; the godlike man defends.
+Thy spear, Telemachus, prevents the attack,
+The brazen weapon driving through his back.
+Thence through his breast its bloody passage tore;
+Flat falls he thundering on the marble floor,
+And his crush'd forehead marks the stone with gore.
+He left his javelin in the dead, for fear
+The long encumbrance of the weighty spear
+To the fierce foe advantage might afford,
+To rash between and use the shorten'd sword.
+With speedy ardour to his sire he flies,
+And, "Arm, great father! arm (in haste he cries).
+Lo, hence I run for other arms to wield,
+For missive javelins, and for helm and shield;
+Fast by our side let either faithful swain
+In arms attend us, and their part sustain."
+
+"Haste, and return (Ulysses made reply)
+While yet the auxiliar shafts this hand supply;
+Lest thus alone, encounter'd by an host,
+Driven from the gate, the important past be lost."
+
+With speed Telemachus obeys, and flies
+Where piled in heaps the royal armour lies;
+Four brazen helmets, eight refulgent spears,
+And four broad bucklers to his sire he bears:
+At once in brazen panoply they shone.
+At once each servant braced his armour on;
+Around their king a faithful guard they stand.
+While yet each shaft flew deathful from his hand:
+Chief after chief expired at every wound,
+And swell'd the bleeding mountain on the ground.
+Soon as his store of flying fates was spent.
+Against the wall he set the bow unbent;
+And now his shoulders bear the massy shield,
+And now his hands two beamy javelins wield:
+He frowns beneath his nodding plume, that play'd
+O'er the high crest, and cast a dreadful shade.
+
+There stood a window near, whence looking down
+From o'er the porch appear'd the subject town.
+A double strength of valves secured the place,
+A high and narrow; but the only pass:
+The cautious king, with all-preventing care,
+To guard that outlet, placed Eumaeus there;
+When Agelaus thus: "Has none the sense
+To mount yon window, and alarm from thence
+The neighbour-town? the town shall force the door,
+And this bold archer soon shall shoot no more."
+Melanthius then: "That outlet to the gate
+So near adjoins, that one may guard the strait.
+But other methods of defence remain;
+Myself with arms can furnish all the train;
+Stores from the royal magazine I bring,
+And their own darts shall pierce the prince and king."
+
+He said; and mounting up the lofty stairs,
+Twelve shields, twelve lances, and twelve helmets bears:
+All arm, and sudden round the hall appears
+A blaze of bucklers, and a wood of spears.
+
+The hero stands oppress'd with mighty woe,
+On every side he sees the labour grow;
+"Oh cursed event! and oh unlook'd for aid!
+Melanthius or the women have betray'd--
+Oh my dear son!"--The father with a sigh
+Then ceased; the filial virtue made reply;
+
+"Falsehood is folly, and 'tis just to own
+The fault committed: this was mine alone;
+My haste neglected yonder door to bar,
+And hence the villain has supplied their war.
+Run, good Eumaeus, then, and (what before
+I thoughtless err'd in) well secure that door:
+Learn, if by female fraud this deed were done,
+Or (as my thought misgives) by Dolius' son."
+
+While yet they spoke, in quest of arms again
+To the high chamber stole the faithless swain,
+Not unobserved. Eumaeus watchful eyed,
+And thus address'd Ulysses near his side:
+
+"The miscreant we suspected takes that way;
+Him, if this arm be powerful, shall I slay?
+Or drive him hither, to receive the meed
+From thy own hand, of this detested deed?"
+
+"Not so (replied Ulysses); leave him there,
+For us sufficient is another care;
+Within the structure of this palace wall
+To keep enclosed his masters till they fall.
+Go you, and seize the felon; backward bind
+His arms and legs, and fix a plank behind:
+On this his body by strong cords extend,
+And on a column near the roof suspend:
+So studied tortures his vile days shall end."
+
+The ready swains obey'd with joyful haste,
+Behind the felon unperceived they pass'd,
+As round the room in quest of arms he goes
+(The half-shut door conceal'd his lurking foes):
+One hand sustain'd a helm, and one the shield
+Which old Laertes wont in youth to wield,
+Cover'd with dust, with dryness chapp'd and worn,
+The brass corroded, and the leather torn.
+Thus laden, o'er the threshold as he stepp'd,
+Fierce on the villain from each side they leap'd,
+Back by the hair the trembling dastard drew,
+And down reluctant on the pavement threw.
+Active and pleased the zealous swains fulfil
+At every point their master's rigid will;
+First, fast behind, his hands and feet they bound,
+Then straighten'd cords involved his body round;
+So drawn aloft, athwart the column tied,
+The howling felon swung from side to side.
+
+Eumaeus scoffing then with keen disdain:
+"There pass thy pleasing night, O gentle swain!
+On that soft pillow, from that envied height,
+First may'st thou see the springing dawn of light;
+So timely rise, when morning streaks the east,
+To drive thy victims to the suitors' feast."
+
+This said, they, left him, tortured as he lay,
+Secured the door, and hasty strode away:
+Each, breathing death, resumed his dangerous post
+Near great Ulysses; four against an host,
+When lo! descending to her hero's aid,
+Jove's daughter, Pallas, War's triumphant maid:
+In Mentor's friendly form she join'd his side:
+Ulysses saw, and thus with transport cried:
+
+"Come, ever welcome, and thy succour lend;
+O every sacred name in one, my friend!
+Early we loved, and long our loves have grown;
+Whate'er through life's whole series I have done,
+Or good, or grateful, now to mind recall,
+And, aiding this one hour, repay it all."
+
+Thus he; but pleasing hopes his bosom warm
+Of Pallas latent in the friendly form.
+The adverse host the phantom-warrior eyed,
+And first, loud-threatening, Agelaus cried:
+
+"Mentor, beware, nor let that tongue persuade
+Thy frantic arm to lend Ulysses aid;
+Our force successful shall our threat make good,
+And with the sire and son commix thy blood.
+What hopest thou here? Thee first the sword shall slay,
+Then lop thy whole posterity away;
+Far hence thy banish'd consort shall we send;
+With his thy forfeit lands and treasures blend;
+Thus, and thus only, shalt thou join thy friend."
+
+His barbarous insult even the goddess fires,
+Who thus the warrior to revenge inspires:
+
+"Art thou Ulysses? where then shall we find
+The patient body and the constant mind?
+That courage, once the Trojans' daily dread,
+Known nine long years, and felt by heroes dead?
+And where that conduct, which revenged the lust
+Of Priam's race, and laid proud Troy in dust?
+If this, when Helen was the cause, were done;
+What for thy country now, thy queen, thy son?
+Rise then in combat, at my side attend;
+Observe what vigour gratitude can lend,
+And foes how weak, opposed against a friend!"
+
+She spoke; but willing longer to survey
+The sire and son's great acts withheld the day!
+By farther toils decreed the brave to try,
+And level poised the wings of victory;
+Then with a change of form eludes their sight,
+Perch'd like a swallow on a rafter's height,
+And unperceived enjoys the rising fight.
+
+Damastor's son, bold Agelaus, leads,
+The guilty war, Eurynomus succeeds;
+With these, Pisander, great Polyctor's son,
+Sage Polybus, and stern Amphimedon,
+With Demoptolemus: these six survive:
+The best of all the shafts had left alive.
+Amidst the carnage, desperate as they stand,
+Thus Agelaus roused the lagging band:
+
+"The hour has come, when yon fierce man no more
+With bleeding princes shall bestrew the floor;
+Lo! Mentor leaves him with an empty boast;
+The four remain, but four against an host.
+Let each at once discharge the deadly dart,
+One sure of six shall reach Ulysses' heart:
+The rest must perish, their great leader slain:
+Thus shall one stroke the glory lost regain."
+
+Then all at once their mingled lances threw,
+And thirsty all of one man's blood they flew;
+In vain! Minerva turned them with her breath,
+And scattered short, or wide, the points of death!
+With deaden'd sound one on the threshold falls,
+One strikes the gate, one rings against the walls:
+The storm passed innocent. The godlike man
+Now loftier trod, and dreadful thus began:
+"'Tis now (brave friends) our turn, at once to throw,
+(So speed them Heaven) our javelins at the foe.
+That impious race to all their past misdeeds
+Would add our blood, injustice still proceeds."
+
+He spoke: at once their fiery lances flew:
+Great Demoptolemus Ulysses slew;
+Euryades received the prince's dart;
+The goatherd's quiver'd in Pisander's heart;
+Fierce Elatus by thine, Eumaeus, falls;
+Their fall in thunder echoes round the walls.
+The rest retreat: the victors now advance,
+Each from the dead resumes his bloody lance.
+Again the foe discharge the steely shower;
+Again made frustrate by the virgin-power.
+Some, turn'd by Pallas, on the threshold fall,
+Some wound the gate, some ring against the wall;
+Some weak, or ponderous with the brazen head,
+Drop harmless on the pavement, sounding dead.
+
+Then bold Amphimedon his javelin cast:
+Thy hand, Telemachus, it lightly razed:
+And from Ctesippus' arm the spear elanced:
+On good Eumaeus' shield and shoulder glanced;
+Not lessened of their force (so light the wound)
+Each sung along and dropped upon the ground.
+Fate doom'd thee next, Eurydamus, to bear,
+Thy death ennobled by Ulysses' spear.
+By the bold son Amphimedon was slain,
+And Polybus renown'd, the faithful swain.
+Pierced through the breast the rude Ctesippus bled,
+And thus Philaetius gloried o'er the dead:
+
+"There end thy pompous vaunts and high disdain;
+O sharp in scandal, voluble and vain!
+How weak is mortal pride! To Heaven alone
+The event of actions and our fates are known:
+Scoffer, behold what gratitude we bear:
+The victim's heel is answered with this spear."
+
+Ulysses brandish'd high his vengeful steel,
+And Damastorides that instant fell:
+Fast by Leocritus expiring lay,
+The prince's javelin tore its bloody way
+Through all his bowels: down he tumbled prone,
+His batter'd front and brains besmear the stone.
+
+Now Pallas shines confess'd; aloft she spreads
+The arm of vengeance o'er their guilty heads:
+The dreadful aegis blazes in their eye:
+Amazed they see, they tremble, and they fly:
+Confused, distracted, through he rooms they fling:
+Like oxen madden'd by the breeze's sting,
+When sultry days, and long, succeed the gentle spring,
+Not half so keen fierce vultures of the chase
+Stoop from the mountains on the feather'd race,
+When, the wide field extended snares beset,
+With conscious dread they shun the quivering net:
+No help, no flight; but wounded every way,
+Headlong they drop; the fowlers seize their prey.
+On all sides thus they double wound on wound,
+In prostrate heaps the wretches beat the ground,
+Unmanly shrieks precede each dying groan,
+And a red deluge floats the reaking stone.
+
+Leiodes first before the victor falls:
+The wretched augur thus for mercy calls:
+"Oh gracious hear, nor let thy suppliant bleed;
+Still undishonoured, or by word or deed,
+Thy house, for me remains; by me repress'd
+Full oft was check'd the injustice of the rest:
+Averse they heard me when I counselled well,
+Their hearts were harden'd, and they justly fell.
+O spare an augur's consecrated head,
+Nor add the blameless to the guilty dead."
+
+"Priest as thou art! for that detested band
+Thy lying prophecies deceived the land;
+Against Ulysses have thy vows been made,
+For them thy daily orisons were paid:
+Yet more, e'en to our bed thy pride aspires:
+One common crime one common fate requires."
+
+Thus speaking, from the ground the sword he took
+Which Agelaus' dying hand forsook:
+Full through his neck the weighty falchion sped;
+Along the pavement roll'd the muttering head.
+
+Phemius alone the hand of vengeance spared,
+Phemius the sweet, the heaven-instructed bard.
+Beside the gate the reverend minstrel stands;
+The lyre now silent trembling in his hands;
+Dubious to supplicate the chief, or fly
+To Jove's inviolable altar nigh,
+Where oft Laertes holy vows had paid,
+And oft Ulysses smoking victims laid.
+His honour'd harp with care he first set down,
+Between the laver and the silver throne;
+Then prostrate stretch'd before the dreadful man,
+Persuasive thus, with accent soft began:
+
+"O king! to mercy be thy soul inclined,
+And spare the poet's ever-gentle kind.
+A deed like this thy future fame would wrong,
+For dear to gods and men is sacred song.
+Self-taught I sing; by Heaven, and Heaven alone,
+The genuine seeds of poesy are sown:
+And (what the gods bestow) the lofty lay
+To gods alone and godlike worth we pay.
+Save then the poet, and thyself reward!
+'Tis thine to merit, mine is to record.
+That here I sung, was force, and not desire;
+This hand reluctant touch'd the warbling wire;
+And let thy son attest, nor sordid pay,
+Nor servile flattery, stain'd the moral lay."
+
+The moving words Telemachus attends,
+His sire approaches, and the bard defends.
+"O mix not, father, with those impious dead
+The man divine! forbear that sacred head;
+Medon, the herald, too, our arms may spare,
+Medon, who made my infancy his care;
+If yet he breathes, permit thy son to give
+Thus much to gratitude, and bid him live."
+
+Beneath a table, trembling with dismay,
+Couch'd close to earth, unhappy Medon lay,
+Wrapp'd in a new-slain ox's ample hide;
+Swift at the word he cast his screen aside,
+Sprung to the prince, embraced his knee with tears,
+And thus with grateful voice address'd his ears
+
+"O prince! O friend! lo, here thy Medon stands
+Ah stop the hero's unresisted hands,
+Incensed too justly by that impious brood,
+Whose guilty glories now are set in blood."
+To whom Ulysses with a pleasing eye:
+
+"Be bold, on friendship and my son rely;
+Live, an example for the world to read,
+How much more safe the good than evil deed:
+Thou, with the heaven-taught bard, in peace resort
+From blood and carnage to yon open court:
+Me other work requires." With timorous awe
+From the dire scene the exempted two withdraw,
+Scarce sure of life, look round, and trembling move
+To the bright altars of Protector Jove.
+
+Meanwhile Ulysses search'd the dome, to find
+If yet there live of all the offending kind.
+Not one! complete the bloody tale he found,
+All steep'd in blood, all gasping on the ground.
+So, when by hollow shores the fisher-train
+Sweep with their arching nets the roaring main,
+And scarce the meshy toils the copious draught contain,
+All naked of their element, and bare,
+The fishes pant, and gasp in thinner air;
+Wide o'er the sands are spread the stiffening prey,
+Till the warm sun exhales their soul away.
+
+And now the king commands his son to call
+Old Euryclea to the deathful hall:
+The son observant not a moment stays;
+The aged governess with speed obeys;
+The sounding portals instant they display;
+The matron moves, the prince directs the way.
+On heaps of death the stern Ulysses stood,
+All black with dust, and cover'd thick with blood.
+So the grim lion from the slaughter comes,
+Dreadful lie glares, and terribly he foams,
+His breast with marks of carnage painted o'er,
+His jaws all dropping with the bull's black gore.
+
+Soon as her eyes the welcome object met,
+The guilty fall'n, the mighty deed complete;
+A scream of joy her feeble voice essay'd;
+The hero check'd her, and composedly said.
+
+"Woman, experienced as thou art, control
+Indecent joy, and feast thy secret soul.
+To insult the dead is cruel and unjust;
+Fate and their crime have sunk them to the dust.
+Nor heeded these the censure of mankind,
+The good and bad were equal in their mind
+Justly the price of worthlessness they paid,
+And each now wails an unlamented shade.
+But thou sincere! O Euryclea, say,
+What maids dishonour us, and what obey?"
+
+Then she: "In these thy kingly walls remain
+(My son) full fifty of the handmaid train,
+Taught by my care to cull the fleece or weave,
+And servitude with pleasing tasks deceive;
+Of these, twice six pursue their wicked way,
+Nor me, nor chaste Penelope obey;
+Nor fits it that Telemachus command
+(Young as he is) his mother's female band.
+Hence to the upper chambers let me fly
+Where slumbers soft now close the royal eye;
+There wake her with the news"--the matron cried
+"Not so (Ulysses, more sedate, replied),
+Bring first the crew who wrought these guilty deeds."
+In haste the matron parts: the king proceeds;
+"Now to dispose the dead, the care remains
+To you, my son, and you, my faithfull swains;
+The offending females to that task we doom,
+To wash, to scent, and purify the room;
+These (every table cleansed, and every throne,
+And all the melancholy labour done)
+Drive to yon court, without the palace wall,
+There the revenging sword shall smite them all;
+So with the suitors let them mix in dust,
+Stretch'd in a long oblivion of their lust."
+He said: the lamentable train appear,
+Each vents a groan, and drops a tender tear;
+Each heaved her mournful burden, and beneath
+The porch deposed the ghastly heap of death.
+The chief severe, compelling each to move,
+Urged the dire task imperious from above;
+With thirsty sponge they rub the tables o'er
+(The swains unite their toil); the walls, the floor,
+Wash'd with the effusive wave, are purged of gore.
+Once more the palace set in fair array,
+To the base court the females take their way;
+There compass'd close between the dome and wall
+(Their life's last scene) they trembling wait their fall.
+
+Then thus the prince: "To these shall we afford
+A fate so pure as by the martial sword?
+To these, the nightly prostitutes to shame,
+And base revilers of our house and name?"
+
+Thus speaking, on the circling wall he strung
+A ship's tough cable from a column hung;
+Near the high top he strain'd it strongly round,
+Whence no contending foot could reach the ground.
+Their heads above connected in a row,
+They beat the air with quivering feet below:
+Thus on some tree hung struggling in the snare,
+The doves or thrushes flap their wings in air.
+Soon fled the soul impure, and left behind
+The empty corse to waver with the wind.
+
+Then forth they led Melanthius, and began
+Their bloody work; they lopp'd away the man,
+Morsel for dogs! then trimm'd with brazen shears
+The wretch, and shorten'd of his nose and ears;
+His hands and feet last felt the cruel steel:
+He roar'd, and torments gave his soul to hell.
+They wash, and to Ulysses take their way:
+So ends the bloody business of the day.
+
+To Euryclea then address'd the king:
+("Bring hither fire, and hither sulphur bring,
+To purge the palace: then the queen attend,
+And let her with her matron-train descend;
+The matron-train, with all the virgin-band,
+Assemble here, to learn their lord's command."
+
+Then Euryclea: "Joyful I obey,
+But cast those mean dishonest rags away;
+Permit me first the royal robes to bring:
+Ill suits this garb the shoulders of a king."
+"Bring sulphur straight, and fire" (the monarch cries).
+She hears, and at the word obedient flies.
+With fire and sulphur, cure of noxious fumes,
+He purged the walls, and blood-polluted rooms.
+Again the matron springs with eager pace,
+And spreads her lord's return from place to place.
+They hear, rush forth, and instant round him stand,
+A gazing throng, a torch in every hand.
+They saw, they knew him, and with fond embrace
+Each humbly kiss'd his knee, or hand, or face;
+He knows them all, in all such truth appears,
+E'en he indulges the sweet joy of tears.
+
+
+
+BOOK XXIII.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+Euryclea awakens Penelope with the news of Ulysses' return, and
+the death of the suitors. Penelope scarcely credits her; but
+supposes some god has punished them, and descends from her
+department in doubt. At the first interview of Ulysses and
+Penelope, she is quite unsatisfied. Minerva restores him to the
+beauty of his youth; but the queen continues incredulous, till by
+some circumstances she is convinced, and falls into all the
+transports of passion and tenderness. They recount to each other
+all that has passed during their long separation. The next morning
+Ulysses, arming himself and his friends, goes from the city to
+visit his father.
+
+
+
+Then to the queen, as in repose she lay,
+The nurse with eager rapture speeds her way:
+The transports of her faithful heart supply
+A sudden youth, and give her wings to fly.
+
+"And sleeps my child? (the reverend matron cries)
+Ulysses lives! arise, my child, arise!
+At length appears the long-expected hour!
+Ulysses comes! the suitors are no more!
+No more they view the golden light of day!
+Arise, and bless thee with the glad survey?"
+
+Touch'd at her words, the mournful queen rejoin'd:
+"Ah! whither wanders thy distemper'd mind?
+The righteous powers, who tread the starry skies,
+The weak enlighten, and confound the wise,
+And human thought, with unresisted sway,
+Depress or raise, enlarge or take away:
+Truth, by their high decree, thy voice forsakes,
+And folly with the tongue of wisdom speaks.
+Unkind, the fond illusion to impose!
+Was it to flatter or deride my woes?
+Never did I sleep so sweet enjoy,
+Since my dear lord left Ithaca for Troy.
+Why must I wake to grieve, and curse thy shore,
+O Troy?--may never tongue pronounce thee more!
+Begone! another might have felt our rage,
+But age is sacred, and we spare thy age."
+
+To whom with warmth: "My soul a lie disdains;
+Ulysses lives, thy own Ulysses reigns:
+That stranger, patient of the suitors' wrongs,
+And the rude license of ungovern'd tongues!
+He, he is thine! Thy son his latent guest
+Long knew, but lock'd the secret in his breast:
+With well concerted art to end his woes,
+And burst at once in vengeance on the foes."
+
+While yet she spoke, the queen in transport sprung
+Swift from the couch, and round the matron hung;
+Fast from her eye descends the rolling tear:
+"Say, once more say, is my Ulysses here?
+How could that numerous and outrageous band
+By one be slain, though by a hero's hand?"
+
+"I saw it not (she cries), but heard alone,
+When death was busy, a loud dying groan;
+The damsel-train turn'd pale at every wound,
+Immured we sate, and catch'd each passing sound;
+When death had seized her prey, thy son attends,
+And at his nod the damsel-train descends;
+There terrible in arms Ulysses stood,
+And the dead suitors almost swam in blood:
+Thy heart had leap'd the hero to survey,
+Stern as the surly lion o'er his prey,
+Glorious in gore, now with sulphereous fire
+The dome he purges, now the flame aspires;
+Heap'd lie the dead without the palace walls--
+Haste, daughter, haste, thy own Ulysses calls!
+Thy every wish the bounteous gods bestow;
+Enjoy the present good, and former woe.
+Ulysses lives, his vanquish'd foes to see;
+He lives to thy Telemachus and thee!"
+
+"Ah, no! (with sighs Penelope rejoin'd,)
+Excess of joy disturbs thy wandering mind;
+How blest this happy hour, should he appear,
+Dear to us all, to me supremely dear;
+Ah, no! some god the suitors death decreed,
+Some god descends, and by his hand they bleed;
+Blind! to contemn the stranger's righteous cause,
+And violate all hospitable laws!
+The good they hated, and the powers defied!
+But heaven is just, and by a god they died.
+For never must Ulysses view this shore;
+Never! the loved Ulysses is no more!"
+
+"What words (the matron cries) have reach'd my ears?
+Doubt we his presence, when he now appears!
+Then hear conviction: Ere the fatal day
+That forced Ulysses o'er the watery way,
+A boar, fierce rushing in the sylvan war,
+Plough'd half his thigh; I saw, I saw the scar,
+And wild with transport had reveal'd the wound;
+But ere I spoke, he rose, and check'd the sound.
+Then, daughter, haste away! and if a lie
+Flow from this tongue, then let thy servant die!"
+To whom with dubious joy the queen replies:
+"Wise is thy soul, but errors seize the wise;
+The works of gods what mortal can survey?
+Who knows their motives, who shall trace their way?
+But learn we instant how the suitors trod
+The paths of death, by man, or by a god."
+Thus speaks the queen, and no reply attends,
+But with alternate joy and fear descends;
+At every step debates her lord to prove;
+Or, rushing to his arms, confess her love!
+Then gliding through the marble valves, in state
+Opposed, before the shining sire she sate.
+The monarch, by a column high enthroned,
+His eye withdrew, and fix'd it on the ground;
+Curious to hear his queen the silence break:
+Amazed she sate, and impotent to speak;
+O'er all the man her eyes she rolls in vain,
+Now hopes, now fears, now knows, then doubts again.
+At length Telemachus: "Oh, who can find
+A woman like Penelope unkind?
+Why thus in silence? why with winning charms
+Thus slow to fly with rapture to his arms?
+Stubborn the breast that with no transport glows,
+When twice ten years are pass'd of mighty woes;
+To softness lost, to spousal love unknown,
+The gods have formed that rigid heart of stone!"
+"O my Telemachus! (the queen rejoin'd,)
+Distracting fears confound my labouring mind;
+Powerless to speak. I scarce uplift my eyes,
+Nor dare to question; doubts on doubts arise.
+Oh deign he, if Ulysses, to remove
+These boding thoughts, and what he is, to prove!"
+Pleased with her virtuous fears, the king replies:
+"Indulge, my son, the cautions of the wise;
+Time shall the truth to sure remembrance bring:
+This garb of poverty belies the king:
+No more. This day our deepest care requires,
+Cautious to act what thought mature inspires.
+If one man's blood, though mean, distain our hands,
+The homicide retreats to foreign lands;
+By us, in heaps the illustrious peerage falls,
+The important deed our whole attention calls."
+
+"Be that thy care (Telemachus replies)
+The world conspires to speak Ulysses wise;
+For wisdom all is thine! lo, I obey,
+And dauntless follow where you led the way;
+Nor shalt thou in the day of danger find
+Thy coward son degenerate lag behind."
+
+"Then instant to the bath (the monarch cries),
+Bid the gay youth and sprightly virgins rise,
+Thence all descend in pomp and proud array,
+And bid the dome resound the mirthful lay;
+While the sweet lyrist airs of rapture sings,
+And forms the dance responsive to the strings,
+That hence the eluded passengers may say,
+'Lo! the queen weds! we hear the spousal lay!'
+The suitor's death, unknown, till we remove
+Far from the court, and act inspired by Jove."
+
+Thus spoke the king: the observant train obey,
+At once they bathe, and dress in proud array:
+The lyrist strikes the string; gay youths advance,
+And fair-zoned damsels form the sprightly dance.
+The voice, attuned to instrumental sounds,
+Ascends the roof, the vaulted roof rebounds;
+Not unobserved: the Greeks eluded say,
+"Lo! the queen weds, we hear the spousal lay!
+Inconstant! to admit the bridal hour."
+Thus they--but nobly chaste she weds no more.
+
+Meanwhile the wearied king the bath ascends;
+With faithful cares Eurynome attends,
+O'er every limb a shower of fragrance sheds;
+Then, dress'd in pomp, magnificent he treads.
+The warrior-goddess gives his frame to shine
+With majesty enlarged, and grace divine.
+Back from his brows in wavy ringlets fly
+His thick large locks of hyacinthine dye.
+As by some artist to whom Vulcan gives
+His heavenly skill, a breathing image lives;
+By Pallas taught, he frames the wondrous mould,
+And the pale silver glows with fusile gold:
+So Pallas his heroic form improves
+With bloom divine, and like a god he moves!
+More high he treads, and issuing forth in state,
+Radiant before his gazing consort sate.
+"And, O my queen! (he cries) what power above
+Has steel'd that heart, averse to spousal love?
+Canst thou, Penelope, when heaven restores
+Thy lost Ulysses to his native shores,
+Canst thou, O cruel! unconcern'd survey
+Thy lost Ulysses, on this signal day?
+Haste, Euryclea, and despatchful spread
+For me, and me alone, the imperial bed,
+My weary nature craves the balm of rest.
+But Heaven with adamant has arm'd her breast."
+
+"Ah no! (she cries) a tender heart I bear,
+A foe to pride: no adamant is there;
+And now, e'en now it melts! for sure I see
+Once more Ulysses my beloved in thee!
+Fix'd in my soul, as when he sailed to Troy,
+His image dwells: then haste the bed of joy,
+Haste, from the bridal bower the bed translate,
+Fram'd by his hand, and be it dress'd in state!"
+
+Thus speaks the queen, still dubious, with disguise
+Touch'd at her words, the king with warmth replies
+"Alas for this! what mortal strength can move
+The enormous burden, who but Heaven above?
+It mocks the weak attempts of human hands!
+But the whole earth must move if Heaven commands
+Then hear sure evidence, while we display
+Words seal'd with sacred truth and truth obey:
+This hand the wonder framed; an olive spread
+Full in the court its ever verdant head.
+Vast as some mighty column's bulk, on high
+The huge trunk rose, and heaved into the sky;
+Around the tree I raised a nuptial bower,
+And roof'd defensive of the storm and shower;
+The spacious valve, with art inwrought conjoins;
+And the fair dome with polished marble shines.
+I lopp'd the branchy head: aloft in twain
+Sever'd the bole, and smoothed the shining grain;
+Then posts, capacious of the frame, I raise,
+And bore it, regular, from space to space:
+Athwart the frame, at equal distance lie
+Thongs of tough hides, that boast a purple dye;
+Then polishing the whole, the finished mould
+With silver shone, with elephant, and gold.
+But if o'erturn'd by rude, ungovern'd hands,
+Or still inviolate the olive stands,
+'Tis thine, O queen, to say, and now impart,
+If fears remain, or doubts distract thy heart."
+
+While yet he speaks, her powers of life decay;
+She sickens, trembles, falls, and faints away.
+At length recovering, to his arms she flew,
+And strain'd him close, as to his breast she grew.
+The tears pour'd down amain, and "O (she cries)
+Let not against thy spouse thine anger rise!
+O versed in every, turn of human art,
+Forgive the weakness of a woman's heart!
+The righteous powers, that mortal lot dispose,
+Decree us to sustain a length of woes.
+And from the flower of life the bliss deny
+To bloom together, fade away, and die.
+O let me, let me not thine anger move,
+That I forbore, thus, thus to speak my love:
+Thus in fond kisses, while the transport warms
+Pour out my soul and die within thine arms!
+I dreaded fraud! Men, faithless men, betray
+Our easy faith, and make our sex their prey:
+Against the fondness of my heart I strove:
+'Twas caution, O my lord! not want of love.
+Like me had Helen fear'd, with wanton charms
+Ere the fair mischief set two worlds in arms;
+Ere Greece rose dreadful in the avenging day;
+Thus had she fear'd, she had not gone astray.
+But Heaven, averse to Greece, in wrath decreed
+That she should wander, and that Greece should bleed:
+Blind to the ills that from injustice flow,
+She colour'd all our wretched lives with woe.
+But why these sorrows when my lord arrives?
+I yield, I yield! my own Ulysses lives!
+The secrets of the bridal bed are known
+To thee, to me, to Actoris alone
+(My father's present in the spousal hour,
+The sole attendant on our genial bower).
+Since what no eye hath seen thy tongue reveal'd,
+Hard and distrustful as I am, I yield."
+
+Touch'd to the soul, the king with rapture hears,
+Hangs round her neck, and speaks his joy in tears.
+As to the shipwreck'd mariner, the shores
+Delightful rise, when angry Neptune roars:
+Then, when the surge in thunder mounts the sky,
+And gulf'd in crowds at once the sailors die;
+If one, more happy, while the tempest raves,
+Outlives the tumult of conflicting waves,
+All pale, with ooze deform'd, he views the strand,
+And plunging forth with transport grasps the land:
+The ravish'd queen with equal rapture glows,
+Clasps her loved lord, and to his bosom grows.
+Nor had they ended till the morning ray,
+But Pallas backward held the rising day,
+The wheels of night retarding, to detain
+The gay Aurora in the wavy main;
+Whose flaming steeds, emerging through the night.
+Beam o'er the eastern hills with streaming light.
+
+At length Ulysses with a sigh replies:
+"Yet Fate, yet cruel Fate repose denies;
+A labour long, and hard, remains behind;
+By heaven above, by hell beneath enjoin'd:
+For to Tiresias through the eternal gates
+Of hell I trode, to learn my future fates.
+But end we here--the night demands repose,
+Be deck'd the couch! and peace awhile, my woes!"
+
+To whom the queen: "Thy word we shall obey,
+And deck the couch; far hence be woes away:
+Since the just gods, who tread the starry plains,
+Restore thee safe, since my Ulysses reigns.
+But what those perils heaven decrees, impart;
+Knowledge may grieve, but fear distracts the heart."
+
+To this the king: "Ah, why must I disclose
+A dreadful story of approaching woes?
+Why in this hour of transport wound thy ears,
+When thou must learn what I must speak with tears?
+Heaven, by the Theban ghost, thy spouse decrees,
+Torn from thy arms, to sail a length of seas;
+From realm to realm, a nation to explore
+Who ne'er knew salt, or heard the billows roar,
+Nor saw gay vessel storm the surgy plain,
+A painted wonder, flying on the main:
+An oar my hand must bear; a shepherd eyes
+The unknown instrument with strange surprise,
+And calls a corn-van; this upon the plain
+I fix, and hail the monarch of the main;
+Then bathe his altars with the mingled gore
+Of victims vow'd, a ram, a bull, a boar;
+Thence swift re-sailing to my native shores,
+Due victims slay to all the ethereal powers.
+Then Heaven decrees, in peace to end my days
+And steal myself from life by slow decays!
+Unknown to pain, in age resign my breath,
+When late stern Neptune points the shaft of death;
+To the dark grave retiring as to rest;
+My people blessing, by my people bless'd.
+Such future scenes the all-righteous powers display
+By their dread seer, and such my future day."
+
+To whom thus firm of soul: "If ripe for death,
+And full of days, thou gently yield thy breath;
+While Heaven a kind release from ills foreshows,
+Triumph, thou happy victor of thy woes?"
+
+But Euryclea, with dispatchful care,
+And sage Eurynome, the couch prepare;
+Instant they bid the blazing torch display
+Around the dome and artificial day;
+Then to repose her steps the matron bends,
+And to the queen Eurynome descends;
+A torch she bears, to light with guiding fires
+The royal pair; she guides them, and retires
+The instant his fair spouse Ulysses led
+To the chaste love-rites of the nuptial bed.
+
+And now the blooming youths and sprightly fair
+Cease the gay dance, and to their rest repair;
+But in discourse the king and consort lay,
+While the soft hours stole unperceived away;
+Intent he hears Penelope disclose
+A mournful story of domestic woes,
+His servants' insults, his invaded bed,
+How his whole flocks and herds exhausted bled,
+His generous wines dishonour'd shed in vain,
+And the wild riots of the suitor-train.
+The king alternate a dire tale relates,
+Of wars, of triumphs, and disastrous fates;
+All he unfolds; his listening spouse turns pale
+With pleasing horror at the dreadful tale;
+Sleepless devours each word; and hears how slain
+Cicons on Cicons swell the ensanguined plain;
+How to the land of Lote unbless'd he sails;
+And images the rills and flowery vales!
+How dash'd like dogs, his friends the Cyclops tore
+(Not unrevenged), and quaff'd the spouting gore;
+How the loud storms in prison bound, he sails
+From friendly Aeolus with prosperous gales:
+Yet fate withstands! a sudden tempest roars,
+And whirls him groaning from his native shores:
+How on the barbarous Laestrigonian coast,
+By savage hands his fleet and friends lie lost;
+How scarce himself survived: he paints the bower,
+The spells of Circe, and her magic power;
+His dreadful journey to the realms beneath,
+To seek Tiresias in the vales of death;
+How in the doleful mansions lie survey'd
+His royal mother, pale Anticlea's shade;
+And friends in battle slain, heroic ghosts!
+Then how, unharm'd, he pass'd the Syren-coasts,
+The justling rocks where fierce Charybdis raves,
+And howling Scylla whirls her thunderous waves,
+The cave of death! How his companions slay
+The oxen sacred to the god of day.
+Till Jove in wrath the rattling tempest guides,
+And whelms the offenders in the roaring tides:
+How struggling through the surge lie reach'd the shores
+Of fair Ogygia and Calypso's bowers;
+Where the bay blooming nymph constrain'd his stay,
+With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay;
+And promised, vainly promised, to bestow
+Immortal life, exempt from age and woe:
+How saved from storms Phaeacia's coast he trod,
+By great Alcinous honour'd as a god,
+Who gave him last his country to behold,
+With change of raiment, brass, and heaps of gold
+
+He ended, sinking into sleep, and shares
+A sweet forgetfulness of all his cares.
+
+Soon as soft slumber eased the toils of day,
+Minerva rushes through the aerial way,
+And bids Aurora with her golden wheels
+Flame from the ocean o'er the eastern hills;
+Uprose Ulysses from the genial bed,
+And thus with thought mature the monarch said:
+
+"My queen, my consort! through a length of years
+We drank the cup of sorrow mix'd with tears;
+Thou, for thy lord; while me the immortal powers
+Detain'd reluctant from my native shores.
+Now, bless'd again by Heaven, the queen display,
+And rule our palace with an equal sway.
+Be it my care, by loans, or martial toils,
+To throng my empty folds with gifts or spoils.
+But now I haste to bless Laertes' eyes
+With sight of his Ulysses ere he dies;
+The good old man, to wasting woes a prey,
+Weeps a sad life in solitude away.
+But hear, though wise! This morning shall unfold
+The deathful scene, on heroes heroes roll'd.
+Thou with thy maids within the palace stay,
+From all the scene of tumult far away!"
+
+He spoke, and sheathed in arms incessant flies
+To wake his son, and bid his friends arise.
+"To arms!" aloud he cries; his friends obey,
+With glittering arms their manly limbs array,
+And pass the city gate; Ulysses leads the way.
+Now flames the rosy dawn, but Pallas shrouds
+The latent warriors in a veil of clouds.
+
+
+
+BOOK XXIV.
+
+ARGUMENT.
+
+The souls of the suitors are conducted by Mercury to the infernal
+shades. Ulysses in the country goes to the retirement of his
+father, Laertes; he finds him busied in his garden all alone; the
+manner of his discovery to him is beautifully described. They
+return together to his lodge, and the king is acknowledged by
+Dolius and the servants. The Ithacensians, led by Eupithes, the
+father of Antinous, rise against Ulysses, who gives them battle in
+which Eupithes is killed by Laertes: and the goddess Pallas makes
+a lasting peace between Ulysses and his subjects, which concludes
+the Odyssey.
+
+
+
+Cylenius now to Pluto's dreary reign
+Conveys the dead, a lamentable train!
+The golden wand, that causes sleep to fly,
+Or in soft slumber seals the wakeful eye,
+That drives the ghosts to realms of night or day,
+Points out the long uncomfortable way.
+Trembling the spectres glide, and plaintive vent
+Thin, hollow screams, along the deep descent.
+As in the cavern of some rifted den,
+Where flock nocturnal bats, and birds obscene;
+Cluster'd they hang, till at some sudden shock
+They move, and murmurs run through all the rock!
+So cowering fled the sable heaps of ghosts,
+And such a scream fill'd all the dismal coasts.
+And now they reach'd the earth's remotest ends,
+And now the gates where evening Sol descends,
+And Leucas' rock, and Ocean's utmost streams,
+And now pervade the dusky land of dreams,
+And rest at last, where souls unbodied dwell
+In ever-flowing meads of asphodel.
+The empty forms of men inhabit there,
+Impassive semblance, images of air!
+Naught else are all that shined on earth before:
+Ajax and great Achilles are no more!
+Yet still a master ghost, the rest he awed,
+The rest adored him, towering as he trod;
+Still at his side is Nestor's son survey'd,
+And loved Patroclus still attends his shade.
+
+New as they were to that infernal shore,
+The suitors stopp'd, and gazed the hero o'er.
+When, moving slow, the regal form they view'd
+Of great Atrides: him in pomp pursued
+And solemn sadness through the gloom of hell,
+The train of those who by AEgysthus fell:
+
+"O mighty chief! (Pelides thus began)
+Honour'd by Jove above the lot of man!
+King of a hundred kings! to whom resign'd
+The strongest, bravest, greatest of mankind
+Comest thou the first, to view this dreary state?
+And was the noblest, the first mark of Fate,
+Condemn'd to pay the great arrear so soon,
+The lot, which all lament, and none can shun!
+Oh! better hadst thou sunk in Trojan ground,
+With all thy full-blown honours cover'd round;
+Then grateful Greece with streaming eyes might raise
+Historic marbles to record thy praise:
+Thy praise eternal on the faithful stone
+Had with transmissive glories graced thy son.
+But heavier fates were destined to attend:
+What man is happy, till he knows his end?"
+
+"O son of Peleus! greater than mankind!
+(Thus Agamemnon's kingly shade rejoin'd)
+Thrice happy thou, to press the martial plain
+'Midst heaps of heroes in thy quarrel slain:
+In clouds of smoke raised by the noble fray,
+Great and terrific e'en in death you lay,
+And deluges of blood flow'd round you every way.
+Nor ceased the strife till Jove himself opposed,
+And all in Tempests the dire evening closed.
+Then to the fleet we bore thy honour'd load,
+And decent on the funeral bed bestow'd;
+Then unguents sweet and tepid streams we shed;
+Tears flow'd from every eye, and o'er the dead
+Each clipp'd the curling honours of his head.
+Struck at the news, thy azure mother came,
+The sea-green sisters waited on the dame:
+A voice of loud lament through all the main
+Was heard; and terror seized the Grecian train:
+Back to their ships the frighted host had fled;
+But Nestor spoke, they listen'd and obey'd
+(From old experience Nestor's counsel springs,
+And long vicissitudes of human things):
+'Forbear your flight: fair Thetis from the main
+To mourn Achilles leads her azure train.'
+Around thee stand the daughters of the deep,
+Robe thee in heavenly vests, and round thee weep:
+Round thee, the Muses, with alternate strain,
+In ever-consecrating verse, complain.
+Each warlike Greek the moving music hears,
+And iron-hearted heroes melt in tears.
+Till seventeen nights and seventeen days return'd
+All that was mortal or immortal mourn'd,
+To flames we gave thee, the succeeding day,
+And fatted sheep and sable oxen slay;
+With oils and honey blazed the augmented fires,
+And, like a god adorn'd, thy earthly part expires.
+Unnumber'd warriors round the burning pile
+Urge the fleet coursers or the racer's toil;
+Thick clouds of dust o'er all the circle rise,
+And the mix'd clamour thunders in the skies.
+Soon as absorb'd in all-embracing flame
+Sunk what was mortal of thy mighty name,
+We then collect thy snowy bones, and place
+With wines and unguents in a golden vase
+(The vase to Thetis Bacchus gave of old,
+And Vulcan's art enrich'd the sculptured gold).
+There, we thy relics, great Achilles! blend
+With dear Patroclus, thy departed friend:
+In the same urn a separate space contains
+Thy next beloved, Antilochus' remains.
+Now all the sons of warlike Greece surround
+Thy destined tomb and cast a mighty mound;
+High on the shore the growing hill we raise,
+That wide the extended Hellespont surveys;
+Where all, from age to age, who pass the coast,
+May point Achilles' tomb, and hail the mighty ghost.
+Thetis herself to all our peers proclaims
+Heroic prizes and exequial games;
+The gods assented; and around thee lay
+Rich spoils and gifts that blazed against the day.
+Oft have I seen with solemn funeral games
+Heroes and kings committed to the flames;
+But strength of youth, or valour of the brave,
+With nobler contest ne'er renown'd a grave.
+Such were the games by azure Thetis given,
+And such thy honours, O beloved of Heaven!
+Dear to mankind thy fame survives, nor fades
+Its bloom eternal in the Stygian shades.
+But what to me avail my honours gone,
+Successful toils, and battles bravely won?
+Doom'd by stern Jove at home to end my life,
+By cursed Aegysthus, and a faithless wife!"
+Thus they: while Hermes o'er the dreary plain
+Led the sad numbers by Ulysses slain.
+On each majestic form they cast a view,
+And timorous pass'd, and awfully withdrew.
+But Agamemnon, through the gloomy shade,
+His ancient host Amphimedon survey'd:
+"Son of Melanthius! (he began) O say!
+What cause compell'd so many, and so gay,
+To tread the downward, melancholy way?
+Say, could one city yield a troop so fair?
+Were all these partners of one native air?
+Or did the rage of stormy Neptune sweep
+Your lives at once, and whelm beneath the deep?
+Did nightly thieves, or pirates' cruel bands,
+Drench with your blood your pillaged country's sands?
+Or well-defending some beleaguer'd wall,
+Say,--for the public did ye greatly fall?
+Inform thy guest: for such I was of yore
+When our triumphant navies touch'd your shore;
+Forced a long month the wintry seas to bear,
+To move the great Ulysses to the war."
+
+"O king of men! I faithful shall relate
+(Replied Amphimedon) our hapless fate.
+Ulysses absent, our ambitious aim
+With rival loves pursued his royal dame;
+Her coy reserve, and prudence mix'd with pride,
+Our common suit nor granted, nor denied;
+But close with inward hate our deaths design'd;
+Versed in all arts of wily womankind.
+Her hand, laborious, in delusion spread
+A spacious loom, and mix'd the various thread.
+'Ye peers (she cried) who press to gain my heart,
+Where dead Ulysses claims no more a part,
+Yet a short space your rival suit suspend,
+Till this funereal web my labours end:
+Cease, till to good Laertes I bequeath
+A task of grief, his ornaments of death:
+Lest when the Fates his royal ashes claim,
+The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame;
+Should he, long honour'd with supreme command,
+Want the last duties of a daughter's hand.'
+
+"The fiction pleased, our generous train complies,
+Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue's fair disguise.
+The work she plied, but studious of delay,
+Each following night reversed the toils of day.
+Unheard, unseen, three years her arts prevail;
+The fourth, her maid reveal'd the amazing tale,
+And show'd as unperceived we took our stand,
+The backward labours of her faithless hand.
+Forced she completes it; and before us lay
+The mingled web, whose gold and silver ray
+Display'd the radiance of the night and day.
+
+"Just as she finished her illustrious toil,
+Ill fortune led Ulysses to our isle.
+Far in a lonely nook, beside the sea,
+At an old swineherd's rural lodge he lay:
+Thither his son from sandy Pyle repairs,
+And speedy lands, and secretly confers.
+They plan our future ruin, and resort
+Confederate to the city and the court.
+First came the son; the father nest succeeds,
+Clad like a beggar, whom Eumaeus leads;
+Propp'd on a staff, deform'd with age and care,
+And hung with rags that flutter'd in the air.
+Who could Ulysses in that form behold?
+Scorn'd by the young, forgotten by the old,
+Ill-used by all! to every wrong resigned,
+Patient he suffered with a constant mind.
+But when, arising in his wrath to obey
+The will of Jove, he gave the vengeance way:
+The scattered arms that hung around the dome
+Careful he treasured in a private room;
+Then to her suitors bade his queen propose
+The archer's strife, the source of future woes,
+And omen of our death! In vain we drew
+The twanging string, and tried the stubborn yew:
+To none it yields but great Ulysses' hands;
+In vain we threat; Telemachus commands:
+The bow he snatch'd, and in an instant bent;
+Through every ring the victor arrow went.
+Fierce on the threshold then in arms he stood;
+Poured forth the darts that thirsted for our blood,
+And frown'd before us, dreadful as a god!
+First bleeds Antinous: thick the shafts resound,
+And heaps on heaps the wretches strew the ground;
+This way, and that, we turn, we fly, we fall;
+Some god assisted, and unmann'd us all;
+Ignoble cries precede the dying groans;
+And battered brains and blood besmear the stones.
+
+"Thus, great Atrides, thus Ulysses drove
+The shades thou seest from yon fair realms above;
+Our mangled bodies now deformed with gore,
+Cold and neglected, spread the marble floor.
+No friend to bathe our wounds, or tears to shed
+O'er the pale corse! the honours of the dead."
+
+"Oh bless'd Ulysses! (thus the king express'd
+His sudden rapture) in thy consort bless'd!
+Not more thy wisdom than her virtue shined;
+Not more thy patience than her constant mind.
+Icarius' daughter, glory of the past,
+And model to the future age, shall last:
+The gods, to honour her fair fame, shall rise
+(Their great reward) a poet in her praise.
+Not such, O Tyndarus! thy daughter's deed,
+By whose dire hand her king and husband bled;
+Her shall the Muse to infamy prolong,
+Example dread, and theme of tragic song!
+The general sex shall suffer in her shame,
+And e'en the best that bears a woman's name."
+
+Thus in the regions of eternal shade
+Conferr'd the mournful phantoms of the dead;
+While from the town, Ulysses and his band
+Pass'd to Laertes' cultivated land.
+The ground himself had purchased with his pain,
+And labour made the rugged soil a plain,
+There stood his mansion of the rural sort,
+With useful buildings round the lowly court;
+Where the few servants that divide his care
+Took their laborious rest, and homely fare;
+And one Sicilian matron, old and sage,
+With constant duty tends his drooping age.
+
+Here now arriving, to his rustic band
+And martial son, Ulysses gave command:
+"Enter the house, and of the bristly swine
+Select the largest to the powers divine.
+Alone, and unattended, let me try
+If yet I share the old man's memory:
+If those dim eyes can yet Ulysses know
+(Their light and dearest object long ago),
+Now changed with time, with absence and with woe."
+Then to his train he gives his spear and shield;
+The house they enter; and he seeks the field,
+Through rows of shade, with various fruitage crown'd,
+And labour'd scenes of richest verdure round.
+Nor aged Dolius; nor his sons, were there,
+Nor servants, absent on another care;
+To search the woods for sets of flowery thorn,
+Their orchard bounds to strengthen and adorn.
+
+But all alone the hoary king he found;
+His habit course, but warmly wrapp'd around;
+His head, that bow'd with many a pensive care,
+Fenced with a double cap of goatskin hair:
+His buskins old, in former service torn,
+But swell repair'd; and gloves against the thorn.
+In this array the kingly gardener stood,
+And clear'd a plant, encumber'd with its wood.
+
+Beneath a neighbouring tree, the chief divine
+Gazed o'er his sire, retracing every line,
+The ruins of himself, now worn away
+With age, yet still majestic in decay!
+Sudden his eyes released their watery store;
+The much-enduring man could bear no more.
+Doubtful he stood, if instant to embrace
+His aged limbs, to kiss his reverend face,
+With eager transport to disclose the whole,
+And pour at once the torrent of his soul.--
+Not so: his judgment takes the winding way
+Of question distant, and of soft essay;
+More gentle methods on weak age employs:
+And moves the sorrows to enhance the joys.
+Then, to his sire with beating heart he moves,
+And with a tender pleasantry reproves;
+Who digging round the plant still hangs his bead,
+Nor aught remits the work, while thus he said:
+
+"Great is thy skill, O father! great thy toil,
+Thy careful hand is stamp'd on all the soil,
+Thy squadron'd vineyards well thy art declare,
+The olive green, blue fig, and pendent pear;
+And not one empty spot escapes thy care.
+On every plant and tree thy cares are shown,
+Nothing neglected, but thyself alone.
+Forgive me, father, if this fault I blame;
+Age so advanced, may some indulgence claim.
+Not for thy sloth, I deem thy lord unkind:
+Nor speaks thy form a mean or servile mind;
+I read a monarch in that princely air,
+The same thy aspect, if the same thy care;
+Soft sleep, fair garments, and the joys of wine,
+These are the rights of age, and should be thine.
+Who then thy master, say? and whose the land
+So dress'd and managed by thy skilful hand?
+But chief, oh tell me! (what I question most)
+Is this the far-famed Ithacensian coast?
+For so reported the first man I view'd
+(Some surly islander, of manners rude),
+Nor farther conference vouchsafed to stay;
+Heedless he whistled, and pursued his way.
+But thou whom years have taught to understand,
+Humanely hear, and answer my demand:
+A friend I seek, a wise one and a brave:
+Say, lives he yet, or moulders in the grave?
+Time was (my fortunes then were at the best)
+When at my house I lodged this foreign guest;
+He said, from Ithaca's fair isle he came,
+And old Laertes was his father's name.
+To him, whatever to a guest is owed
+I paid, and hospitable gifts bestow'd:
+To him seven talents of pure ore I told,
+Twelve cloaks, twelve vests, twelve tunics stiff with gold:
+A bowl, that rich with polish'd silver flames,
+And skill'd in female works, four lovely dames."
+
+At this the father, with a father's fears
+(His venerable eyes bedimm'd with tears):
+"This is the land; but ah! thy gifts are lost,
+For godless men, and rude possess the coast:
+Sunk is the glory of this once-famed shore!
+Thy ancient friend, O stranger, is no more!
+Full recompense thy bounty else had borne:
+For every good man yields a just return:
+So civil rights demand; and who begins
+The track of friendship, not pursuing, sins.
+But tell me, stranger, be the truth confess'd,
+What years have circled since thou saw'st that guest?
+That hapless guest, alas! for ever gone!
+Wretch that he was! and that I am! my son!
+If ever man to misery was born,
+'Twas his to suffer, and 'tis mine to mourn!
+Far from his friends, and from his native reign,
+He lies a prey to monsters of the main;
+Or savage beasts his mangled relics tear,
+Or screaming vultures scatter through the air:
+Nor could his mother funeral unguents shed;
+Nor wail'd his father o'er the untimely dead:
+Nor his sad consort, on the mournful bier,
+Seal'd his cold eyes, or dropp'd a tender tear!
+
+"But, tell me who thou art? and what thy race?
+Thy town, thy parents, and thy native place?
+Or, if a merchant in pursuit of gain,
+What port received thy vessel from the main?
+Or comest thou single, or attend thy train?"
+
+Then thus the son: "From Alybas I came,
+My palace there; Eperitus my name
+Not vulgar born: from Aphidas, the king
+Of Polyphemon's royal line, I spring.
+Some adverse demon from Sicania bore
+Our wandering course, and drove us on your shore;
+Far from the town, an unfrequented bay
+Relieved our wearied vessel from the sea.
+Five years have circled since these eyes pursued
+Ulysses parting through the sable flood:
+Prosperous he sail'd, with dexter auguries,
+And all the wing'd good omens of the skies.
+Well hoped we then to meet on this fair shore,
+Whom Heaven, alas! decreed to meet no more."
+
+Quick through the father's heart these accents ran;
+Grief seized at once, and wrapp'd up all the man:
+Deep from his soul lie sigh'd, and sorrowing spread
+A cloud of ashes on his hoary head.
+Trembling with agonies of strong delight
+Stood the great son, heart-wounded with the sight:
+He ran, he seized him with a strict embrace,
+With thousand kisses wander'd o'er his face:
+"I, I am he; O father, rise! behold
+Thy son, with twenty winters now grown old;
+Thy son, so long desired, so long detain'd,
+Restored, and breathing in his native land:
+These floods of sorrow, O my sire, restrain!
+The vengeance is complete; the suitor train,
+Stretch'd in our palace, by these hands lie slain."
+
+Amazed, Laertes: "Give some certain sign
+(If such thou art) to manifest thee mine."
+
+"Lo here the wound (he cries) received of yore,
+The scar indented by the tusky boar,
+When, by thyself, and by Anticlea sent,
+To old Autolycus' realms I went.
+Yet by another sign thy offspring know;
+The several trees you gave me long ago,
+While yet a child, these fields I loved to trace,
+And trod thy footsteps with unequal pace;
+To every plant in order as we came,
+Well-pleased, you told its nature and its name,
+Whate'er my childish fancy ask'd, bestow'd:
+Twelve pear-trees, bowing with their pendent load,
+And ten, that red with blushing apples glow'd;
+Full fifty purple figs; and many a row
+Of various vines that then began to blow,
+A future vintage! when the Hours produce
+Their latent buds, and Sol exalts the juice."
+
+Smit with the signs which all his doubts explain,
+His heart within him melt; his knees sustain
+Their feeble weight no more: his arms alone
+Support him, round the loved Ulysses thrown;
+He faints, he sinks, with mighty joys oppress'd:
+Ulysses clasps him to his eager breast.
+Soon as returning life regains its seat,
+And his breath lengthens, and his pulses beat:
+"Yes, I believe (he cries) almighty Jove!
+Heaven rules us yet, and gods there are above.
+'Tis so--the suitors for their wrongs have paid--
+But what shall guard us, if the town invade?
+If, while the news through every city flies,
+All Ithaca and Cephalenia rise?"
+To this Ulysses: "As the gods shall please
+Be all the rest: and set thy soul at ease.
+Haste to the cottage by this orchard's side,
+And take the banquet which our cares provide;
+There wait thy faithful band of rural friends,
+And there the young Telemachus attends."
+
+Thus, having said, they traced the garden o'er
+And stooping entered at the lowly door.
+The swains and young Telemachus they found.
+The victim portion'd and the goblet crown'd.
+The hoary king, his old Sicilian maid
+Perfum'd and wash'd, and gorgeously arrayed.
+Pallas attending gives his frame to shine
+With awful port, and majesty divine;
+His gazing son admires the godlike grace,
+And air celestial dawning o'er his face.
+"What god (he cried) my father's form improves!
+How high he treads and how enlarged he moves!"
+
+"Oh! would to all the deathless powers on high,
+Pallas and Jove, and him who gilds the sky!
+(Replied the king elated with his praise)
+My strength were still, as once in better days:
+When the bold Cephalens the leaguer form'd.
+And proud Nericus trembled as I storm'd.
+Such were I now, not absent from your deed
+When the last sun beheld the suitors bleed,
+This arm had aided yours, this hand bestrown
+Our shores with death, and push'd the slaughter on;
+Nor had the sire been separate from the son."
+
+They communed thus; while homeward bent their way
+The swains, fatigued with labours of the day:
+Dolius, the first, the venerable man;
+And next his sons, a long succeeding train.
+For due refection to the bower they came,
+Call'd by the careful old Sicilian dame,
+Who nursed the children, and now tends the sire,
+They see their lord, they gaze, and they admire.
+On chairs and beds in order seated round,
+They share the gladsome board; the roofs resound,
+While thus Ulysses to his ancient friend:
+"Forbear your wonder, and the feast attend:
+The rites have waited long." The chief commands
+Their love in vain; old Dolius spreads his hands,
+Springs to his master with a warm embrace,
+And fastens kisses on his hands and face;
+Then thus broke out: "O long, O daily mourn'd!
+Beyond our hopes, and to our wish return'd!
+Conducted sure by Heaven! for Heaven alone
+Could work this wonder: welcome to thy own!
+And joys and happiness attend thy throne!
+Who knows thy bless'd, thy wish'd return? oh say,
+To the chaste queen shall we the news convey?
+Or hears she, and with blessings loads the day?"
+
+"Dismiss that care, for to the royal bride
+Already is it known" (the king replied,
+And straight resumed his seat); while round him bows
+Each faithful youth, and breathes out ardent vows:
+Then all beneath their father take their place,
+Rank'd by their ages, and the banquet grace.
+
+Now flying Fame the swift report had spread
+Through all the city, of the suitors dead,
+In throngs they rise, and to the palace crowd;
+Their sighs were many and the tumult loud.
+Weeping they bear the mangled heaps of slain;
+Inhume the natives in their native plain,
+The rest in ships are wafted o'er the main.
+Then sad in council all the seniors sate,
+Frequent and full, assembled to debate:
+Amid the circle first Eupithes rose,
+Big was his eye with tears, his heart with woes:
+The bold Antinous was his age's pride,
+The first who by Ulysses' arrow died.
+Down his wan cheek the trickling torrent ran,
+As mixing words with sighs he thus began:
+
+"Great deeds, O friends! this wondrous man has wrought,
+And mighty blessings to his country brought!
+With ships he parted, and a numerous train,
+Those, and their ships, he buried in the main.
+Now he returns, and first essays his hand
+In the best blood of all his native land.
+Haste, then, and ere to neighbouring Pyle he flies,
+Or sacred Elis, to procure supplies;
+Arise (or ye for ever fall), arise!
+Shame to this age, and all that shall succeed!
+If unrevenged your sons and brothers bleed.
+Prove that we live, by vengeance on his head,
+Or sink at once forgotten with the dead."
+Here ceased he, but indignant tears let fall
+Spoke when he ceased: dumb sorrow touch'd them all.
+When from the palace to the wondering throng
+Sage Medon came, and Phemius came along
+(Restless and early sleep's soft bands they broke);
+And Medon first the assembled chiefs bespoke;
+
+"Hear me, ye peers and elders of the land,
+Who deem this act the work of mortal hand;
+As o'er the heaps of death Ulysses strode,
+These eyes, these eyes beheld a present god,
+Who now before him, now beside him stood,
+Fought as he fought, and mark'd his way with blood:
+In vain old Mentor's form the god belied;
+'Twas Heaven that struck, and Heaven was on his side."
+
+A sudden horror all the assembly shook,
+When slowly rising, Halitherses spoke
+(Reverend and wise, whose comprehensive view
+At once the present and the future knew):
+"Me too, ye fathers, hear! from you proceed
+The ills ye mourn; your own the guilty deed.
+Ye gave your sons, your lawless sons, the rein
+(Oft warn'd by Mentor and myself in vain);
+An absent hero's bed they sought to soil,
+An absent hero's wealth they made their spoil;
+Immoderate riot, and intemperate lust!
+The offence was great, the punishment was just.
+Weigh then my counsels in an equal scale,
+Nor rush to ruin. Justice will prevail."
+
+His moderate words some better minds persuade:
+They part, and join him: but the number stay'd.
+They storm, they shout, with hasty frenzy fired,
+And second all Eupithes' rage inspired.
+They case their limbs in brass; to arms they run;
+The broad effulgence blazes in the sun.
+Before the city, and in ample plain,
+They meet: Eupithes heads the frantic train.
+Fierce for his son, he breathes his threats in air;
+Fate bears them not, and Death attends him there.
+
+This pass'd on earth, while in the realms above
+Minerva thus to cloud-compelling Jove!
+"May I presume to search thy secret soul?
+O Power Supreme, O Ruler of the whole!
+Say, hast thou doom'd to this divided state
+Or peaceful amity or stern debate?
+Declare thy purpose, for thy will is fate."
+
+"Is not thy thought my own? (the god replies
+Who rolls the thunder o'er the vaulted skies;)
+Hath not long since thy knowing soul decreed
+The chief's return should make the guilty bleed.
+'Tis done, and at thy will the Fates succeed.
+Yet hear the issue: Since Ulysses' hand
+Has slain the suitors, Heaven shall bless the land.
+None now the kindred of the unjust shall own;
+Forgot the slaughter'd brother and the son:
+Each future day increase of wealth shall bring,
+And o'er the past Oblivion stretch her wing.
+Long shall Ulysses in his empire rest,
+His people blessing, by his people bless'd.
+Let all be peace."--He said, and gave the nod
+That binds the Fates; the sanction of the god
+And prompt to execute the eternal will,
+Descended Pallas from the Olympian hill.
+
+Now sat Ulysses at the rural feast
+The rage of hunger and of thirst repress'd:
+To watch the foe a trusty spy he sent:
+A son of Dolius on the message went,
+Stood in the way, and at a glance beheld
+The foe approach, embattled on the field.
+With backward step he hastens to the bower,
+And tells the news. They arm with all their power.
+Four friends alone Ulysses' cause embrace,
+And six were all the sons of Dolius' race:
+Old Dolius too his rusted arms put on;
+And, still more old, in arms Laertes shone.
+Trembling with warmth, the hoary heroes stand,
+And brazen panoply invests the band.
+The opening gates at once their war display:
+Fierce they rush forth: Ulysses leads the way.
+That moment joins them with celestial aid,
+In Mentor's form, the Jove-descended maid:
+The suffering hero felt his patient breast
+Swell with new joy, and thus his son address'd:
+
+"Behold, Telemachus! (nor fear the sight,)
+The brave embattled, the grim front of fight!
+The valiant with the valiant must contend.
+Shame not the line whence glorious you descend.
+Wide o'er the world their martial fame was spread;
+Regard thyself, the living and the dead."
+
+"Thy eyes, great father! on this battle cast,
+Shall learn from me Penelope was chaste."
+
+So spoke Telemachus: the gallant boy
+Good old Laertes heard with panting joy.
+"And bless'd! thrice bless'd this happy day! (he cries,)
+The day that shows me, ere I close my eyes,
+A son and grandson of the Arcesian name
+Strive for fair virtue, and contest for fame!"
+
+Then thus Minerva in Laertes' ear:
+"Son of Arcesius, reverend warrior, hear!
+Jove and Jove's daughter first implore in prayer,
+Then, whirling high, discharge thy lance in air."
+She said, infusing courage with the word.
+Jove and Jove's daughter then the chief implored,
+And, whirling high, dismiss'd the lance in air.
+Full at Eupithes drove the deathful spear:
+The brass-cheek'd helmet opens to the wound;
+He falls, earth thunders, and his arms resound.
+Before the father and the conquering son
+Heaps rush on heaps, they fight, they drop, they run
+Now by the sword, and now the javelin, fall
+The rebel race, and death had swallow'd all;
+But from on high the blue-eyed virgin cried;
+Her awful voice detain'd the headlong tide:
+"Forbear, ye nations, your mad hands forbear
+From mutual slaughter; Peace descends to spare."
+Fear shook the nations: at the voice divine
+They drop their javelins, and their rage resign.
+All scatter'd round their glittering weapons lie;
+Some fall to earth, and some confusedly fly.
+With dreadful shouts Ulysses pour'd along,
+Swift as an eagle, as an eagle strong.
+But Jove's red arm the burning thunder aims:
+Before Minerva shot the livid flames;
+Blazing they fell, and at her feet expired;
+Then stopped the goddess, trembled and retired.
+
+"Descended from the gods! Ulysses, cease;
+Offend not Jove: obey, and give the peace."
+
+So Pallas spoke: the mandate from above
+The king obey'd. The virgin-seed of Jove,
+In Mentor's form, confirm'd the full accord,
+And willing nations knew their lawful lord.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Odyssey of Homer,
+translated by Alexander Pope
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ODYSSEY OF HOMER ***
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+This file should be named 3160.txt or 3160.zip
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