diff options
Diffstat (limited to '3160-h/3160-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 3160-h/3160-h.htm | 19474 |
1 files changed, 19474 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/3160-h/3160-h.htm b/3160-h/3160-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d17970 --- /dev/null +++ b/3160-h/3160-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,19474 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<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%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + +<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—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—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—<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. “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. +</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 “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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</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’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. +</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. +“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.” +</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’s demand, +but one man “observed that if they were to feed <i>Homers</i>, 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 <i>Homers</i>.” 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: “O Thestorides, of the many things hidden from the knowledge of +man, nothing is more unintelligible than the human heart.” +</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. “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> +“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> +“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> +“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> +“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.” +</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. “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.” +</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:— +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</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’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—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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</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:— +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</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: “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.” +</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:— +</p> + +<p> +“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> +“There is some truth, though some malicious exaggeration, in the lines of +Pope:— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“‘The critic eye—that microscope of wit—<br/> +Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit;<br/> +How parts relate to parts, or they to whole.<br/> +The body’s harmony, the beaming soul,<br/> +Are things which Kuster, Burmann, Wasse, shall see,<br/> +When man’s whole frame is obvious to a flea.’” +</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 “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.” +</p> + +<p> +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:— +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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> +“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.” +</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’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> +“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.” +</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:— +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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 <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—or, at least, to the +questionable dignity of only having produced a leader tolerably skilled in the +military tactics of his age.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</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’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 +<i>employés</i> 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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</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:— +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</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—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. +</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,—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—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. +</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:— +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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:— +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</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’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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>might</i> 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. +</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’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’s various arts renown’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’d,<br/> +Their manners noted, and their states survey’d,<br/> +On stormy seas unnumber’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’d them never more<br/> +(Ah, men unbless’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 ’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’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’s extremest verge revered<br/> +With hecatombs and prayer in pomp preferr’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’d,<br/> +AEgysthus’ fate revolving in his breast,<br/> +Whom young Orestes to the dreary coast<br/> +Of Pluto sent, a blood-polluted ghost. +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’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’d,<br/> +He plunged into the gulf which Heaven foretold.” +</p> + +<p> +Here paused the god; and pensive thus replies<br/> +Minerva, graceful with her azure eyes: +</p> + +<p> +“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’d.<br/> +Amidst an isle, around whose rocky shore<br/> +The forests murmur, and the surges roar,<br/> +The blameless hero from his wish’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’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’d thy power,<br/> +Be doom’d the worst of human ills to prove,<br/> +Unbless’d, abandon’d to the wrath of Jove?” +</p> + +<p> +“Daughter! what words have pass’d thy lips unweigh’d!<br/> +(Replied the Thunderer to the martial maid;)<br/> +Deem not unjustly by my doom oppress’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’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’d,<br/> +And in his cave the yielding nymph compress’d<br/> +For this the god constrains the Greek to roam,<br/> +A hopeless exile from his native home,<br/> +From death alone exempt—but cease to mourn;<br/> +Let all combine to achieve his wish’d return;<br/> +Neptune atoned, his wrath shall now refrain,<br/> +Or thwart the synod of the gods in vain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Father and king adored!” Minerva cried,<br/> +“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’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/> +’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.” +</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’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’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’ form conceal’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’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’s rightful lord;<br/> +The proud oppressors fly the vengeful sword.<br/> +While his fond soul these fancied triumphs swell’d,<br/> +The stranger guest the royal youth beheld;<br/> +Grieved that a visitant so long should wait<br/> +Unmark’d, unhonour’d, at a monarch’s gate;<br/> +Instant he flew with hospitable haste,<br/> +And the new friend with courteous air embraced.<br/> +“Stranger, whoe’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.” +</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’ 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’s fate.<br/> +The golden ewer a maid obsequious brings,<br/> +Replenish’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’d the suitors with voracious haste;<br/> +Marshall’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’d.<br/> +The rage of hunger quell’d, they all advance<br/> +And form to measured airs the mazy dance;<br/> +To Phemius was consign’d the chorded lyre,<br/> +Whose hand reluctant touch’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’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’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’d in my father’s social train?<br/> +All who deserved his choice he made his own,<br/> +And, curious much to know, he far was known.” +</p> + +<p> +“My birth I boast (the blue-eyed virgin cries)<br/> +From great Anchialus, renown’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’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’s friend. Laertes can relate<br/> +Our faith unspotted, and its early date;<br/> +Who, press’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> +“With friendly speed, induced by erring fame,<br/> +To hail Ulysses’ 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’d breast,<br/> +To me, no seer, the inspiring gods suggest;<br/> +Nor skill’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’d the tides to Troy;<br/> +But, parting then for that detested shore,<br/> +Our eyes, unhappy never greeted more.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’ 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’d<br/> +With humble affluence, and domestic rest!<br/> +Happier than I, to future empire born,<br/> +But doom’d a father’s wretch’d fate to mourn!” +</p> + +<p> +To whom, with aspect mild, the guest divine:<br/> +“Oh true descendant of a sceptred line!<br/> +The gods a glorious fate from anguish free<br/> +To chaste Penelope’s increase decree.<br/> +But say, yon jovial troops so gaily dress’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’d to mourn,<br/> +Bitter constraint, erroneous and forlorn.<br/> +Better the chief, on Ilion’s hostile plain,<br/> +Had fall’n surrounded with his warlike train;<br/> +Or safe return’d, the race of glory pass’d,<br/> +New to his friends’ 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’d by harpies to the dreary coast.<br/> +Sunk is the hero, and his glory lost;<br/> +Vanish’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’ sylvan reign;<br/> +Ev’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.” +</p> + +<p> +With tender pity touch’d, the goddess cried:<br/> +“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’s court he graced,<br/> +When social mirth unbent his serious soul,<br/> +O’er the full banquet, and the sprightly bowl);<br/> +He then from Ephyre, the fair domain<br/> +Of Ilus, sprung from Jason’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’s soul was fired,<br/> +The drugs he knew, and gave the boon desired.<br/> +Appear’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’d return the care resign,<br/> +Be future vengeance to the powers divine.<br/> +My sentence hear: with stern distaste avow’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’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’s fortunes; Fame may prove,<br/> +Or omen’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’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’er the vacant grave,<br/> +A hero’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’ veins imbrued;<br/> +The murderer fell, and blood atoned for blood.<br/> +O greatly bless’d with every blooming grace!<br/> +With equal steps the paths of glory trace;<br/> +Join to that royal youth’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> +“The counsel of my friend (the youth rejoin’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’d, your royal court<br/> +I shall revisit, and that pledge receive;<br/> +And gifts, memorial of our friendship, leave.” +</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’s doubtful fate.<br/> +At length, composed, he join’d the suitor-throng;<br/> +Hush’d in attention to the warbled song.<br/> +His tender theme the charming lyrist chose.<br/> +Minerva’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’d the weeping fair descends;<br/> +Their sovereign’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’s tuneful hand: +</p> + +<p> +“Phemius! let acts of gods, and heroes old,<br/> +What ancient bards in hall and bower have told,<br/> +Attemper’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, dearest object of my duteous love,<br/> +(Replied the prince,) will you the bard reprove?<br/> +Oft, Jove’s ethereal rays (resistless fire)<br/> +The chanter’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’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’d lord alone.<br/> +What Greeks new wandering in the Stygian gloom,<br/> +Wish your Ulysses shared an equal doom!<br/> +Your widow’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.” +</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/> +“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, ’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Awed by the prince, thus haughty, bold, and young,<br/> +Rage gnaw’d the lip, and wonder chain’d the tongue.<br/> +Silence at length the gay Antinous broke,<br/> +Constrain’d a smile, and thus ambiguous spoke:<br/> +“What god to your untutor’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!” +</p> + +<p> +“Those toils (Telemachus serene replies)<br/> +Have charms, with all their weight, t’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’d obey.<br/> +Whene’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’er my vassals, and domestic train.” +</p> + +<p> +To this Eurymachus: “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’d sire?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh son of Polybus!” the prince replies,<br/> +“No more my sire will glad these longing eyes;<br/> +The queen’s fond hope inventive rumour cheers,<br/> +Or vain diviners’ dreams divert her fears.<br/> +That stranger-guest the Taphian realm obeys,<br/> +A realm defended with encircling seas.<br/> +Mentes, an ever-honour’d name, of old<br/> +High in Ulysses’ social list enroll’d.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus he, though conscious of the ethereal guest,<br/> +Answer’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’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’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’s son,<br/> +For twenty beeves by great Laertes won;<br/> +In rosy prime with charms attractive graced,<br/> +Honour’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’d,<br/> +The duteous dame received the purple vest;<br/> +The purple vest with decent care disposed,<br/> +The silver ring she pull’d, the door reclosed,<br/> +The bolt, obedient to the silken cord,<br/> +To the strong staple’s inmost depth restored,<br/> +Secured the valves. There, wrapped in silent shade,<br/> +Pensive, the rules the goddess gave he weigh’d;<br/> +Stretch’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’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’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’d by his side,<br/> +Embroider’d sandals glitter’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’s throne he fill’d; while distant stood<br/> +The hoary peers, and aged wisdom bow’d. +</p> + +<p> +’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’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’d his spouting gore.<br/> +Three sons remain’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> +“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!” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke. Telemachus with transport glows,<br/> +Embraced the omen, and majestic rose<br/> +(His royal hand the imperial sceptre sway’d);<br/> +Then thus, addressing to AEgyptius, said: +</p> + +<p> +“Reverend old man! lo here confess’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’er he bore the sword to strengthen ill,<br/> +Or, having power to wrong, betray’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’d wrong,<br/> +You make the arm of violence too strong.” +</p> + +<p> +While thus he spoke, with rage and grief he frown’d,<br/> +And dash’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—at length Antinous burns<br/> +With haughty rage, and sternly thus returns: +</p> + +<p> +“O insolence of youth! whose tongue affords<br/> +Such railing eloquence, and war of words.<br/> +Studious thy country’s worthies to defame,<br/> +Thy erring voice displays thy mother’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’s wide azure roll’d,<br/> +For three long years the royal fraud behold?<br/> +While she, laborious in delusion, spread<br/> +The spacious loom, and mix’d the various thread:<br/> +Where as to life the wondrous figures rise,<br/> +Thus spoke the inventive queen, with artful sighs: +</p> + +<p> +“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’d,<br/> +Shall want in death a shroud to grace his shade.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Thus she: at once the generous train complies,<br/> +Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue’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’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> +“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’d,<br/> +And more than woman with deep wisdom crown’d;<br/> +Though Tyro nor Mycene match her name,<br/> +Not great Alcmena (the proud boasts of fame);<br/> +Yet thus by heaven adorn’d, by heaven’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’s destruction waits the mother’s fame:<br/> +For, till she leaves thy court, it is decreed,<br/> +Thy bowl to empty and thy flock to bleed.” +</p> + +<p> +While yet he speaks, Telemachus replies:<br/> +“Ev’n nature starts, and what ye ask denies.<br/> +Thus, shall I thus repay a mother’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’d by all, accursed my name would grow,<br/> +The earth’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, ’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.” +</p> + +<p> +With that, two eagles from a mountain’s height<br/> +By Jove’s command direct their rapid flight;<br/> +Swift they descend, with wing to wing conjoin’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’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’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’d the aërial tracks, and drew<br/> +A sure presage from every wing that flew. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye sons (he cried) of Ithaca, give ear;<br/> +Hear all! but chiefly you, O rivals! hear.<br/> +Destruction sure o’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> +“When great Ulysses sought the Phrygian shores<br/> +To shake with war proud Ilion’s lofty towers,<br/> +Deeds then undone my faithful tongue foretold:<br/> +Heaven seal’d my words, and you those deeds behold.<br/> +I see (I cried) his woes, a countless train;<br/> +I see his friends o’erwhelm’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!” +</p> + +<p> +To whom Eurymachus—“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—I better read the skies<br/> +Unnumber’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’ 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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the youth: “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’d in vain),<br/> +A bark to waft me o’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’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’er the mighty dead,<br/> +And yield his consort to the nuptial bed.” +</p> + +<p> +He ceased; and while abash’d the peers attend,<br/> +Mentor arose, Ulysses’ faithful friend:<br/> +(When fierce in arms he sought the scenes of war,<br/> +“My friend (he cried), my palace be thy care;<br/> +Years roll’d on years my godlike sire decay,<br/> +Guard thou his age, and his behests obey.”)<br/> +Stern as he rose, he cast his eyes around,<br/> +That flash’d with rage; and as spoke, he frown’d, +</p> + +<p> +“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—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.” +</p> + +<p> +While yet he spoke, Leocritus rejoined:<br/> +“O pride of words, and arrogance of mind!<br/> +Would’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’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.” +</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’er his hands he shed,<br/> +The royal suppliant to Minerva pray’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Indulgent to his prayer, the goddess took<br/> +Sage Mentor’s form, and thus like Mentor spoke: +</p> + +<p> +“O prince, in early youth divinely wise,<br/> +Born, the Ulysses of thy age to rise<br/> +If to the son the father’s worth descends,<br/> +O’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’ aims despise;<br/> +For never, never wicked man was wise.<br/> +Blind they rejoice, though now, ev’n now they fall;<br/> +Death hastes amain: one hour o’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’er the bay, by vessel vessel rides;<br/> +The best I choose to waft then o’er the tides.” +</p> + +<p> +She spoke: to his high dome the prince returns,<br/> +And, as he moves, with royal anguish mourns.<br/> +’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’d,<br/> +And thus deriding, with a smile address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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’er the swelling tides.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is this (returns the prince) for mirth a time?<br/> +When lawless gluttons riot, mirth’s a crime;<br/> +The luscious wines, dishonour’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—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.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke and frown’d, nor longer deign’d to stay,<br/> +Sternly his hand withdrew, and strode away. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime, o’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’d: +</p> + +<p> +“Tremble ye not, O friends, and coward fly,<br/> +Doom’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!” +</p> + +<p> +“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!” +</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’d vestures graced;<br/> +Here jars of oil breathed forth a rich perfume;<br/> +There casks of wine in rows adorn’d the dome<br/> +(Pure flavorous wine, by gods in bounty given<br/> +And worthy to exalt the feasts of heaven).<br/> +Untouch’d they stood, till, his long labours o’er,<br/> +The great Ulysses reach’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’d all night, all day, a faithful guard. +</p> + +<p> +To whom the prince: “O thou whose guardian care<br/> +Nursed the most wretched king that breathes the air;<br/> +Untouch’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’d;<br/> +Next these in worth, and firm these urns be seal’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’s eyes,<br/> +Me from our coast shall spreading sails convey,<br/> +To seek Ulysses through the watery way.” +</p> + +<p> +While yet he spoke, she fill’d the walls with cries,<br/> +And tears ran trickling from her aged eyes.<br/> +“O whither, whither flies my son (she cried)<br/> +To realms; that rocks and roaring seas divide?<br/> +In foreign lands thy father’s days decay’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!” +</p> + +<p> +“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’d the dangerous truth betray,<br/> +Till twice six times descends the lamp of day,<br/> +Lest the sad tale a mother’s life impair,<br/> +And grief destroy what time awhile would spare.” +</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’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’d the flowing goblet to the ground.<br/> +Drowsy they rose, with heavy fumes oppress’d,<br/> +Reel’d from the palace, and retired to rest.<br/> +Then thus, in Mentor’s reverend form array’d,<br/> +Spoke to Telemachus the martial maid.<br/> +“Lo! on the seas, prepared the vessel stands,<br/> +The impatient mariner thy speed demands.”<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’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’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’s eternal brazen portals blazed;<br/> +And wide o’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’ 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’d the shore;<br/> +Not first, the power of wisdom march’d before,<br/> +And ere the sacrificing throng he join’d,<br/> +Admonish’d thus his well-attending mind: +</p> + +<p> +“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’d the wide immeasurable main.<br/> +Meet then the senior far renown’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’d in speech, nor yet mature of age?<br/> +Awful th’approach, and hard the task appears,<br/> +To question wisely men of riper years.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the martial goddess thus rejoin’d:<br/> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +She spoke, and led the way with swiftest speed;<br/> +As swift, the youth pursued the way she led;<br/> +and join’d the band before the sacred fire,<br/> +Where sate, encompass’d with his sons, the sire.<br/> +The youth of Pylos, some on pointed wood<br/> +Transfix’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’er;<br/> +Then first approaching to the elder guest,<br/> +The latent goddess in these words address’d:<br/> +“Whoe’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!”<br/> +He spake, and to her hand preferr’d the bowl;<br/> +A secret pleasure touch’d Athena’s soul,<br/> +To see the preference due to sacred age<br/> +Regarded ever by the just and sage.<br/> +Of Ocean’s king she then implores the grace.<br/> +“O thou! whose arms this ample globe embrace,<br/> +Fulfil our wish, and let thy glory shine<br/> +On Nestor first, and Nestor’s royal line;<br/> +Next grant the Pylian states their just desires,<br/> +Pleased with their hecatomb’s ascending fires;<br/> +Last, deign Telemachus and me to bless,<br/> +And crown our voyage with desired success.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus she: and having paid the rite divine,<br/> +Gave to Ulysses’ son the rosy wine.<br/> +Suppliant he pray’d. And now the victims dress’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> +“Now gentle guests! the genial banquet o’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’er the pathless main<br/> +Where savage pirates seek through seas unknown<br/> +The lives of others, venturous of their own.” +</p> + +<p> +Urged by the precepts by the goddess given,<br/> +And fill’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/> +“Inquir’st thou, father! from what coast we came?<br/> +(Oh grace and glory of the Grecian name!)<br/> +From where high Ithaca o’erlooks the floods,<br/> +Brown with o’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’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’s wall<br/> +In arms he fought; with thee beheld her fall.<br/> +Of all the chiefs, this hero’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’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’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’ war<br/> +The wise, the good Ulysses claim’d thy care;<br/> +If e’er he join’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/> +’Tis sacred truth I ask, and ask of thee.” +</p> + +<p> +To him experienced Nestor thus rejoin’d:<br/> +“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’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—ah, once my best delight<br/> +Once swift of foot, and terrible in fight;<br/> +In whom stern courage with soft virtue join’d<br/> +A faultless body and a blameless mind;<br/> +Antilochus—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’s woes;<br/> +Back to thy native islands might’st thou sail,<br/> +And leave half-heard the melancholy tale.<br/> +Nine painful years on that detested shore;<br/> +What stratagems we form’d, what toils we bore!<br/> +Still labouring on, till scarce at last we found<br/> +Great Jove propitious, and our conquest crown’d.<br/> +Far o’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’d,<br/> +And in their ships the conquering Greeks return’d,<br/> +’Twas God’s high will the victors to divide,<br/> +And turn the event, confounding human pride;<br/> +Some he destroy’d, some scatter’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’d to council all the Achaian state,<br/> +But call’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’d to stay,<br/> +The sacred rites and hecatombs to pay,<br/> +And calm Minerva’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’d<br/> +(So Jove, that urged us to our fate, ordain’d).<br/> +We with the rising morn our ships unmoor’d,<br/> +And brought our captives and our stores aboard;<br/> +But half the people with respect obey’d<br/> +The king of men, and at his bidding stay’d.<br/> +Now on the wings of winds our course we keep<br/> +(For God had smooth’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’d,<br/> +He there, though late, to please the monarch, stay’d.<br/> +But I, determined, stem the foamy floods,<br/> +Warn’d of the coming fury of the gods.<br/> +With us, Tydides fear’d, and urged his haste:<br/> +And Menelaus came, but came the last,<br/> +He join’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’s toil<br/> +(The safer road), beside the Psyrian isle;<br/> +Or the straight course to rocky Chios plough,<br/> +And anchor under Mimas’ 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’er,<br/> +Tydides’ vessels touched the wish’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’d my ear.<br/> +Yet what I learn’d, attend; as here I sat,<br/> +And ask’d each voyager each hero’s fate;<br/> +Curious to know, and willing to relate. +</p> + +<p> +“Safe reach’d the Myrmidons their native land,<br/> +Beneath Achilles’ warlike son’s command.<br/> +Those, whom the heir of great Apollo’s art,<br/> +Brave Philoctetes, taught to wing the dart;<br/> +And those whom Idomen from Ilion’s plain<br/> +Had led, securely cross’d the dreadful main<br/> +How Agamemnon touch’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’d sire!<br/> +Ev’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!” +</p> + +<p> +The prudent youth replied: “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’s fortune never to return,<br/> +And the sad son’s to softer and to mourn!”<br/> +Thus he; and Nestor took the word: “My son,<br/> +Is it then true, as distant rumours run,<br/> +That crowds of rivals for thy mother’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’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’d and divine,<br/> +As those with which Minerva mark’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! no such hope (the prince with sighs replies)<br/> +Can touch my breast; that blessing Heaven denies.<br/> +Ev’n by celestial favour were it given,<br/> +Fortune or fate would cross the will of Heaven.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus check’d, replied Ulysses’ prudent heir:<br/> +“Mentor, no more—the mournful thought forbear;<br/> +For he no more must draw his country’s breath,<br/> +Already snatch’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’s fate?<br/> +Live Menelaus not in Greece? or where<br/> +Was then the martial brother’s pious care?<br/> +Condemn’d perhaps some foreign shore to tread;<br/> +Or sure Ægysthus had not dared the deed.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the full of days: Illustrious youth,<br/> +Attend (though partly thou hast guess’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’d his obsequies,<br/> +But fowls obscene dismember’d his remains,<br/> +And dogs had torn him on the naked plains.<br/> +While us the works of bloody Mars employ’d,<br/> +The wanton youth inglorious peace enjoy’d:<br/> +He stretch’d at ease in Argos’ calm recess<br/> +(Whose stately steeds luxuriant pastures bless),<br/> +With flattery’s insinuating art<br/> +Soothed the frail queen, and poison’d all her heart.<br/> +At first, with worthy shame and decent pride,<br/> +The royal dame his lawless suit denied.<br/> +For virtue’s image yet possess’d her mind.<br/> +Taught by a master of the tuneful kind;<br/> +Atrides, parting for the Trojan war,<br/> +Consign’d the youthful consort to his care.<br/> +True to his charge, the bard preserved her long<br/> +In honour’s limits; such the power of song.<br/> +But when the gods these objects of their hate<br/> +Dragg’d to destruction by the links of fate;<br/> +The bard they banish’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’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’d. +</p> + +<p> +“Meantime from flaming Troy we cut the way<br/> +With Menelaus, through the curling sea.<br/> +But when to Sunium’s sacred point we came,<br/> +Crown’d with the temple of the Athenian dame;<br/> +Atride’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’s art,<br/> +Apollo touch’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’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’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’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’d away,<br/> +And heaved the fleet into the neighb’ring bay.<br/> +Thus saved from death, they gain’d the Phaæstan shores,<br/> +With shatter’d vessels and disabled oars;<br/> +But five tall barks the winds and water toss’d,<br/> +Far from their fellows, on the Ægyptian coast.<br/> +There wander’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’d,<br/> +And his stern rule the groaning land obey’d;<br/> +The eighth, from Athens to his realm restored,<br/> +Orestes brandish’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’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’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’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’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.”<br/> +Thus while he speaks the ruddy sun descends,<br/> +And twilight grey her evening shade extends.<br/> +Then thus the blue-eyed maid: “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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +So spake Jove’s daughter, the celestial maid,<br/> +The sober train attended and obey’d.<br/> +The sacred heralds on their hands around<br/> +Pour’d the full urns; the youths the goblets crown’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’d,<br/> +The youthful hero and the Athenian maid<br/> +Propose departure from the finish’d rite,<br/> +And in their hollow bark to pass the night;<br/> +But this hospitable sage denied,<br/> +“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—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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, turning with the word, Minerva flies,<br/> +And soars an eagle through the liquid skies.<br/> +Vision divine! the throng’d spectators gaze<br/> +In holy wonder fix’d, and still amaze.<br/> +But chief the reverend sage admired; he took<br/> +The hand of young Telemachus, and spoke:<br/> +“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’d is thine, as once thy father’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Submissive thus the hoary sire preferr’d<br/> +His holy vow: the favouring goddess heard.<br/> +Then, slowly rising, o’er the sandy space<br/> +Precedes the father, follow’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’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’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’er the lawn,<br/> +The old man early rose, walk’d forth, and sate<br/> +On polish’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’d it, and the sceptre sway’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/> +“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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +He said, and busy each his care bestow’d;<br/> +Already at the gates the bullock low’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’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’d.<br/> +So wrought as Pallas might with pride behold.<br/> +Young Aretus from forth his bridal bower<br/> +Brought the full laver, o’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’ 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’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’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’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’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’d,<br/> +The monarch turns him to his royal guest;<br/> +And for the promised journey bids prepare<br/> +The smooth hair’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’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’d all the way. +</p> + +<p> +To Pherae now, Diocleus’ stately seat<br/> +(Of Alpheus’ 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’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’d;<br/> +Then slowly sunk the ruddy globe of light,<br/> +And o’er the shaded landscape rush’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 ’midst his bridal friends,<br/> +With double vows invoking Hymen’s power,<br/> +To bless his son’s and daughter’s nuptial hour. +</p> + +<p> +That day, to great Achilles’ son resign’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’s distant reign.<br/> +Meanwhile at home, to Megapenthe’s bed<br/> +The virgin choir Alector’s daughter led.<br/> +Brave Megapenthes from a stolen amour<br/> +To great Atrides’ age his handmaid bore;<br/> +To Helen’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’d to the vocal strings;<br/> +Whilst warbling to the varied strain, advance<br/> +Two sprightly youths to form the bounding dance,<br/> +’Twas then, that issuing through the palace gate,<br/> +The splendid car roll’d slow in regal state:<br/> +On the bright eminence young Nestor shone,<br/> +And fast beside him great Ulysses’ son;<br/> +Grave Eteoneus saw the pomp appear,<br/> +And speeding, thus address’d the royal ear; +</p> + +<p> +“Two youths approach, whose semblant features prove<br/> +Their blood devolving from the source of Jove<br/> +Is due reception deign’d, or must they bend<br/> +Their doubtful course to seek a distant friend?” +</p> + +<p> +“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’s board,<br/> +Till pitying Jove my native realm restored—<br/> +Straight be the coursers from the car released,<br/> +Conduct the youths to grace the genial feast.” +</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’d vests.<br/> +Refresh’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’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/> +“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.” +</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’s son,<br/> +His head reclined, young Ithacus begun: +</p> + +<p> +“View’st thou unmoved, O ever-honour’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.” +</p> + +<p> +The monarch took the word, and grave replied:<br/> +“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’d,<br/> +Envy will own the purchase dearly paid.<br/> +For eight slow-circling years, by tempests toss’d,<br/> +From Cypress to the far Phoenician coast<br/> +(Sidon the capital), I stretch’d my toil<br/> +Through regions fatten’d with the flows of Nile.<br/> +Next Aethiopia’s utmost bound explore,<br/> +And the parch’d borders of the Arabian shore;<br/> +Then warp my voyage on the southern gales,<br/> +O’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’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’d,<br/> +These riches are possess’d, but not enjoy’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’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—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’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’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’d hours in tender moan.” +</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’d,<br/> +His face he shrouded with his purple vest.<br/> +The conscious monarch pierced the coy disguise,<br/> +And view’d his filial love with vast surprise:<br/> +Dubious to press the tender theme, or wait<br/> +To hear the youth inquire his father’s fate.<br/> +In this suspense bright Helen graced the room;<br/> +Before her breathed a gale of rich perfume.<br/> +So moves, adorn’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’s care.<br/> +A silver canister, divinely wrought,<br/> +In her soft hands the beauteous Phylo brought;<br/> +To Sparta’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’d<br/> +With vast munificence the imperial guest:<br/> +Two lavers from the richest ore refined,<br/> +With silver tripods, the kind host assign’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’s hand;<br/> +And that rich vase, with living sculpture wrought,<br/> +Which heap’d with wool the beauteous Phylo brought<br/> +The silken fleece, impurpled for the loom,<br/> +Rivall’d the hyacinth in vernal bloom.<br/> +The sovereign seat then Jove born Helen press’d,<br/> +And pleasing thus her sceptred lord address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“Who grace our palace now, that friendly pair,<br/> +Speak they their lineage, or their names declare?<br/> +Uncertain of the truth, yet uncontroll’d,<br/> +Hear me the bodings of my breast unfold.<br/> +With wonder wrapp’d on yonder check I trace<br/> +The feature of the Ulyssean race:<br/> +Diffused o’er each resembling line appear,<br/> +In just similitude, the grace and air<br/> +Of young Telemachus! the lovely boy,<br/> +Who bless’d Ulysses with a father’s joy,<br/> +What time the Greeks combined their social arms,<br/> +To avenge the stain of my ill-fated charms!” +</p> + +<p> +“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’er his shoulders flow<br/> +And when he heard the long disastrous store<br/> +Of cares, which in my cause Ulysses bore;<br/> +Dismay’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’d the falling tear.” +</p> + +<p> +“See there confess’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’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’s high command, I came,<br/> +Whose age I honour with a parent’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is Sparta blest, and these desiring eyes<br/> +View my friend’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’d—<br/> +When Troy was ruin’d, had the chief return’d,<br/> +No Greek an equal space had ere possess’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’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’d are all the visionary joys;<br/> +The soul of friendship to my hope is lost,<br/> +Fated to wander from his natal coast!” +</p> + +<p> +He ceased; a gush of grief began to rise:<br/> +Fast streams a tide from beauteous Helen’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’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> +“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’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’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’er the congenial dust enjoin’d to shear<br/> +The graceful curl, and drop the tender tear.<br/> +Then, mingling in the mournful pomp with you,<br/> +I’ll pay my brother’s ghost a warrior’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’d, in fight<br/> +To face the foe, or intercept his flight;<br/> +Too early snatch’d by fate ere known to me!<br/> +I boast a witness of his worth in thee.” +</p> + +<p> +“Young and mature! (the monarch thus rejoins,)<br/> +In thee renew’d the soul of Nestor shines;<br/> +Form’d by the care of that consummate sage,<br/> +In early bloom an oracle of age.<br/> +Whene’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’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’s revolving lamp restores the day.” +</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’d a mirth inspiring bowl;<br/> +Temper’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’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’d his life away,<br/> +Or darling son, oppress’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’d from Thone’s imperial wife;<br/> +Who sway’d the sceptre, where prolific Nile<br/> +With various simples clothes the fatten’d soil.<br/> +With wholesome herbage mix’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> +“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’d.<br/> +And sweet discourse, the banquet of the mind<br/> +Myself, assisting in the social joy,<br/> +Will tell Ulysses’ 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> +“Seam’d o’er with wounds, which his own sabre gave,<br/> +In the vile habit of a village slave,<br/> +The foe deceived, he pass’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’d<br/> +Fresh from the bath, with fragrant oils renew’d,<br/> +His limbs in military purple dress’d,<br/> +Each brightening grace the genuine Greek confess’d.<br/> +A previous pledge of sacred faith obtain’d,<br/> +Till he the lines and Argive fleet regain’d,<br/> +To keep his stay conceal’d; the chief declared<br/> +The plans of war against the town prepared.<br/> +Exploring then the secrets of the state,<br/> +He learn’d what best might urge the Dardan fate;<br/> +And, safe returning to the Grecian host,<br/> +Sent many a shade to Pluto’s dreary coast.<br/> +Loud grief resounded through the towers of Troy,<br/> +But my pleased bosom glow’d with secret joy:<br/> +For then, with dire remorse and conscious shame<br/> +I view’d the effects of that disastrous flame,<br/> +Which, kindled by the imperious queen of love,<br/> +Constrain’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’d;<br/> +But Ithacus, unrivall’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’d,<br/> +When the vast fabric of the steed we rear’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’s name you thrice invoke,<br/> +Your accent varying as their spouses spoke!<br/> +The pleasing sounds each latent warrior warm’d,<br/> +But most Tydides’ and my heart alarm’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’d;<br/> +And the vain ardours of our love restrain’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.”<br/> +He ceased; the menial fair that round her wait,<br/> +At Helen’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’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’d,<br/> +Unbarr’d the portal of the roseate east,<br/> +The monarch rose; magnificent to view,<br/> +The imperial mantle o’er his vest he threw;<br/> +The glittering zone athwart his shoulders cast,<br/> +A starry falchion low-depending graced;<br/> +Clasp’d on his feet the embroidered sandals shine;<br/> +And forth he moves, majestic and divine,<br/> +Instant to young Telemachus he press’d;<br/> +And thus benevolent his speech addressed: +</p> + +<p> +“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’er the surgy main?” +</p> + +<p> +“O highly-favour’d delegate of Jove!<br/> +(Replies the prince) inflamed with filial love,<br/> +And anxious hope, to hear my parent’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’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’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’er Ulysses, to reclaim your right,<br/> +Avow’d his zeal in council or in fight,<br/> +If Phrygian camps the friendly toils attest,<br/> +To the sire’s merit give the son’s request.” +</p> + +<p> +Deep from his inmost soul Atrides sigh’d,<br/> +And thus, indignant, to the prince replied:<br/> +“Heavens! would a soft, inglorious, dastard train<br/> +An absent hero’s nuptial joys profane!<br/> +So with her young, amid the woodland shades,<br/> +A timorous hind the lion’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’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 ’tis given to gild the sphere!<br/> +With power congenial join’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’d,<br/> +And loud-acclaiming Greeks the victor bless’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’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> +“Long on the Egyptian coast by calms confined,<br/> +Heaven to my fleet refused a prosperous wind;<br/> +No vows had we preferr’d, nor victims slain!<br/> +For this the gods each favouring gale restrain<br/> +Jealous, to see their high behests obey’d;<br/> +Severe, if men the eternal rights evade.<br/> +High o’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’d vessels safe in harbour lie,<br/> +Whilst limpid springs the failing cask supply. +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’d,<br/> +Me sole the daughter of the deep address’d;<br/> +What time, with hunger pined, my absent mates<br/> +Roam the wide isle in search of rural cates,<br/> +Bait the barb’d steel, and from the fishy flood<br/> +Appease the afflictive fierce desire of food.” +</p> + +<p> +“‘Whoe’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?’<br/> +“Struck with the loud reproach, I straight reply:<br/> +‘Whate’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’s sequester’d from celestial view?)<br/> +What power becalms the innavigable seas?<br/> +What guilt provokes him, and what vows appease?’ +</p> + +<p> +“I ceased, when affable the goddess cried:<br/> +‘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’er the main,<br/> +The delegate of Neptune’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“She ceased; and suppliant thus I made reply:<br/> +‘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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Thus to the goddess mild my suit I end.<br/> +Then she: ‘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’d on the shelly shore, he first surveys<br/> +The flouncing herd ascending from the seas;<br/> +Their number summ’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’d on the grassy plain.<br/> +With powers united, obstinately bold,<br/> +Invade him, couch’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’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’d with a victor’s prayer.<br/> +The bands releas’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.’<br/> +She ceased, and bounding from the shelfy shore,<br/> +Round the descending nymph the waves resounding roar. +</p> + +<p> +“High wrapp’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’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’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’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’s gentle power implored,<br/> +With nectar’d drops the sickening sense restored. +</p> + +<p> +“Thus till the sun had travell’d half the skies,<br/> +Ambush’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’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’d with tusks, and lightning in his eyes,<br/> +A boar’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’d,<br/> +Me with reluctance thus the seer address’d;<br/> +‘Say, son of Atreus, say what god inspired<br/> +This daring fraud, and what the boon desired?’<br/> +I thus: ‘O thou, whose certain eye foresees<br/> +The fix’d event of fate’s remote decrees;<br/> +After long woes, and various toil endured,<br/> +Still on this desert isle my fleet is moor’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’er the seas.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘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’d to roam.<br/> +Once more the Nile, who from the secret source<br/> +Of Jove’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He ceased: heart wounded with afflictive pain,<br/> +(Doom’d to repeat the perils of the main,<br/> +A shelfy track and long!) ‘O seer’ I cry,<br/> +‘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’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> +“‘Press not too far,’ replied the god: ‘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’s dreary reign.<br/> +Two, foremost in the roll of Mars renown’d,<br/> +Whose arms with conquest in thy cause were crown’d,<br/> +Fell by disastrous fate: by tempests toss’d,<br/> +A third lives wretched on a distant coast. +</p> + +<p> +“By Neptune rescued from Minerva’s hate,<br/> +On Gyrae, safe Oilean Ajax sate,<br/> +His ship o’erwhelm’d; but, frowning on the floods,<br/> +Impious he roar’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’d seaward, with impetuous roar<br/> +Ingulf’d, and to the abyss the boaster bore. +</p> + +<p> +“By Juno’s guardian aid, the watery vast,<br/> +Secure of storms, your royal brother pass’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’d,<br/> +Where late in regal pomp Thyestes reigned;<br/> +But, when his hoary honours bow’d to fate,<br/> +Ægysthus govern’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’d from his airy stand;<br/> +To bribe whose vigilance, Ægysthus told<br/> +A mighty sum of ill-persuading gold:<br/> +There watch’d this guardian of his guilty fear,<br/> +Till the twelfth moon had wheel’d her pale career;<br/> +And now, admonish’d by his eye, to court<br/> +With terror wing’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’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’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’d with the brave, the base invaders bleed;<br/> +Ægysthus sole survives to boast the deed.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He said: chill horrors shook my shivering soul,<br/> +Rack’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/> +‘Forget the brother, and resume the man.<br/> +To Fate’s supreme dispose the dead resign,<br/> +That care be Fate’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’d<br/> +The prescient godhead to reveal the rest:<br/> +‘The doom decreed of those disastrous two<br/> +I’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘That chief (rejoin’d the god) his race derives<br/> +From Ithaca, and wondrous woes survives;<br/> +Laertes’ son: girt with circumfluous tides,<br/> +He still calamitous constraint abides.<br/> +Him in Calypso’s cave of late I view’d,<br/> +When streaming grief his faded cheek bedow’d.<br/> +But vain his prayer, his arts are vain, to move<br/> +The enamour’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’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’s lord.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’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’er the surges flew,<br/> +Till Grecian cliffs appear’d a blissful view! +</p> + +<p> +“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’d car;<br/> +With these a goblet of capacious mould,<br/> +Figured with art to dignify the gold<br/> +(Form’d for libation to the gods), shall prove<br/> +A pledge and monument of sacred love.” +</p> + +<p> +“My quick return (young Ithacus rejoin’d),<br/> +Damps the warm wishes of my raptured mind;<br/> +Did not my fate my needful haste constrain,<br/> +Charm’d by your speech so graceful and humane,<br/> +Lost in delight the circling year would roll,<br/> +While deep attention fix’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.” +</p> + +<p> +His hand the king with tender passion press’d,<br/> +And, smiling, thus the royal youth address’d:<br/> +“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’s art, the verge with gold enchased.<br/> +A pledge the sceptred power of Sidon gave,<br/> +When to his realm I plough’d the orient wave.” +</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’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’d from the vast resort,<br/> +Antinous sole spectator of the sport;<br/> +With great Eurymachus, of worth confess’d,<br/> +And high descent, superior to the rest;<br/> +Whom young Noëmon lowly thus address’d:— +</p> + +<p> +“My ship, equipp’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Unknowing of the course to Pyle design’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/> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“With willing duty, not reluctant mind<br/> +(Noëmon cried), the vessel was resign’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,”<br/> +Then ceased the youth, and from the court retired. +</p> + +<p> +Confounded and appall’d, the unfinish’d game<br/> +The suitors quit, and all to council came.<br/> +Antinous first the assembled peers address’d.<br/> +Rage sparkling in his eyes, and burning in his breast +</p> + +<p> +“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’d;<br/> +For ambush’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’s fate, but find his own.” +</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> +“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’d with Ulysses’ 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’s parent, he protected all;<br/> +But absent now, perfidious and ingrate!<br/> +His stores ye ravage, and usurp his state.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “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!” +</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/> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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’s doom.” +</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’d her deep despair: +</p> + +<p> +“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’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!—<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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Euryclea thus: “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’d,<br/> +Till the twelfth dawn the light of day reveal’d.<br/> +Dreading the effect of a fond mother’s fear,<br/> +He dared not violate your royal ear.<br/> +But bathe, and, in imperial robes array’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.” +</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’s aid; +</p> + +<p> +“Daughter divine of Jove, whose arm can wield<br/> +The avenging bolt, and shake the dreadful shield<br/> +If e’er Ulysses to thy fane preferr’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’d return with happy power befriend,<br/> +And on the suitors let thy wrath descend.” +</p> + +<p> +She ceased; shrill ecstasies of joy declare<br/> +The favouring goddess present to the prayer;<br/> +The suitors heard, and deem’d the mirthful voice<br/> +A signal of her hymeneal choice;<br/> +Whilst one most jovial thus accosts the board: +</p> + +<p> +“Too late the queen selects a second lord;<br/> +In evil hour the nuptial rite intends,<br/> +When o’er her son disastrous death impends.”<br/> +Thus he, unskill’d of what the fates provide!<br/> +But with severe rebuke Antinous cried: +</p> + +<p> +“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.”<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’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’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’s fortunes roll,<br/> +And hope and doubt alternate seize her soul.<br/> +So when the woodman’s toil her cave surrounds,<br/> +And with the hunter’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’s gentle powers her drooping eyes invade;<br/> +Minerva, life-like, on embodied air<br/> +Impress’d the form of Iphthima the fair;<br/> +(Icarius’ daughter she, whose blooming charms<br/> +Allured Eumelus to her virgin arms;<br/> +A sceptred lord, who o’er the fruitful plain<br/> +Of Thessaly wide stretched his ample reign:)<br/> +As Pallas will’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’s high commands +</p> + +<p> +“O why, Penelope, this causeless fear,<br/> +To render sleep’s soft blessing unsincere?<br/> +Alike devote to sorrow’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.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the queen (whilst yet in pensive mind<br/> +Was in the silent gates of sleep confined):<br/> +“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’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’s return.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +The queen replies: “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’d in ever-during night?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Swift through the valves the visionary fair<br/> +Repass’d, and viewless mix’d with common air.<br/> +The queen awakes, deliver’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’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’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’ 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’s danger touch’d the pitying power,<br/> +The nymph’s seducements, and the magic bower.<br/> +Thus she began her plaint: “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’s love,<br/> +Sole in an isle, encircled by the main,<br/> +Abandon’d, banish’d from his native reign,<br/> +Unbless’d he sighs, detained by lawless charms,<br/> +And press’d unwilling in Calypso’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’d fraud employ;<br/> +Who, pious, following his great father’s fame,<br/> +To sacred Pylos and to Sparta came.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’s return shall make the guilty bleed?<br/> +What cannot Wisdom do? Thou may’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Then thus to Hermes the command was given:<br/> +“Hermes, thou chosen messenger of heaven!<br/> +Go, to the nymph be these our orders borne<br/> +’Tis Jove’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’s noble spoil),<br/> +His friends, his country, he shall see, though late:<br/> +Such is our sovereign will, and such is fate.” +</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’er the wide earth, and o’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’s steep,<br/> +And stoops incumbent on the rolling deep.<br/> +So watery fowl, that seek their fishy food,<br/> +With wings expanded o’er the foaming flood,<br/> +Now sailing smooth the level surface sweep,<br/> +Now dip their pinions in the briny deep;<br/> +Thus o’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’d nymph with every beauty crown’d).<br/> +The cave was brighten’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’d around, and groves of living green;<br/> +Poplars and alders ever quivering play’d,<br/> +And nodding cypress form’d a fragrant shade:<br/> +On whose high branches, waving with the storm,<br/> +The birds of broadest wing their mansions form,—<br/> +The chough, the sea-mew, the loquacious crow,—<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’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’d the messenger of heaven: he stay’d<br/> +Entranced, and all the blissful haunts surveyed.<br/> +Him, entering in the cave, Calypso knew;<br/> +For powers celestial to each other’s view<br/> +Stand still confess’d, though distant far they lie<br/> +To habitants of earth, or sea, or sky.<br/> +But sad Ulysses, by himself apart,<br/> +Pour’d the big sorrows of his swelling heart;<br/> +All on the lonely shore he sate to weep,<br/> +And roll’d his eyes around the restless deep:<br/> +Toward his loved coast he roll’d his eyes in vain,<br/> +Till, dimm’d with rising grief, they stream’d again. +</p> + +<p> +Now graceful seated on her shining throne,<br/> +To Hermes thus the nymph divine begun: +</p> + +<p> +“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/> +’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.” +</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> +“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’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’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’d<br/> +Their force on Ilion, in the tenth destroy’d,)<br/> +At length, embarking in a luckless hour,<br/> +With conquest proud, incensed Minerva’s power:<br/> +Hence on the guilty race her vengeance hurl’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +E’en to her inmost soul the goddess shook;<br/> +Then thus her anguish, and her passion broke:<br/> +“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’d mortal, and not feel your rage?<br/> +So when Aurora sought Orion’s love,<br/> +Her joys disturbed your blissful hours above,<br/> +Till, in Ortygia Dian’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’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’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/> +’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’ll direct the safest means to go;<br/> +That last advice is all I can bestow.” +</p> + +<p> +To her the power who hears the charming rod;<br/> +“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?”<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’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’d his eyes o’er all the restless main,<br/> +Till, dimmed with rising grief, they streamed again. +</p> + +<p> +Here, on his musing mood the goddess press’d,<br/> +Approaching soft, and thus the chief address’d:<br/> +“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’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’d in dark events to come),<br/> +In peace shall land thee at thy native home.” +</p> + +<p> +With sighs Ulysses heard the words she spoke,<br/> +Then thus his melancholy silence broke:<br/> +“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’st not what my soul forebodes;<br/> +Swear by the solemn oath that binds the gods.” +</p> + +<p> +Him, while he spoke, with smiles Calypso eyed,<br/> +And gently grasp’d his hand, and thus replied:<br/> +“This shows thee, friend, by old experience taught,<br/> +And learn’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’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.” +</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’d,<br/> +Thus spoke Calypso to her godlike guest: +</p> + +<p> +“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’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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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’er the gods shall destine me to bear;<br/> +In the black ocean or the watery war,<br/> +’Tis mine to master with a constant mind;<br/> +Inured to perils, to the worst resign’d,<br/> +By seas, by wars, so many dangers run;<br/> +Still I can suffer; their high will he done!” +</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’d them from their rest,<br/> +Ulysses robed him in the cloak and vest.<br/> +The nymph’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’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’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’s utmost verge there stood<br/> +Of poplars, pine, and firs, a lofty wood,<br/> +Whose leafless summits to the skies aspire,<br/> +Scorch’d by the sun, or seared by heavenly fire<br/> +(Already dried). These pointing out to view,<br/> +The nymph just show’d him, and with tears withdrew. +</p> + +<p> +Now toils the hero: trees on trees o’erthrown<br/> +Fall crackling round him, and the forests groan:<br/> +Sudden, full twenty on the plain are strow’d,<br/> +And lopp’d and lighten’d of their branchy load.<br/> +At equal angles these disposed to join,<br/> +He smooth’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’s broad bottom to out-ride the storms,<br/> +So large he built the raft; then ribb’d it strong<br/> +From space to space, and nail’d the planks along;<br/> +These form’d the sides: the deck he fashion’d last;<br/> +Then o’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’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’d on levers, launch’d her in the deep. +</p> + +<p> +Four days were pass’d, and now the work complete,<br/> +Shone the fifth morn, when from her sacred seat<br/> +The nymph dismiss’d him (odorous garments given),<br/> +And bathed in fragrant oils that breathed of heaven:<br/> +Then fill’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’d the skies,<br/> +Nor closed in sleep his ever-watchful eyes.<br/> +There view’d the Pleiads, and the Northern Team,<br/> +And great Orion’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’d the deep.<br/> +Full seventeen nights he cut the foaming way:<br/> +The distant land appear’d the following day:<br/> +Then swell’d to sight Phæacia’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’s aërial brow,<br/> +The king of ocean saw, and seeing burn’d<br/> +(From Æthiopia’s happy climes return’d);<br/> +The raging monarch shook his azure head,<br/> +And thus in secret to his soul he said:<br/> +“Heavens! how uncertain are the powers on high!<br/> +Is then reversed the sentence of the sky,<br/> +In one man’s favour; while a distant guest<br/> +I shared secure the Æthiopian feast?<br/> +Behold how near Phæacia’s land he draws;<br/> +The land affix’d by Fate’s eternal laws<br/> +To end his toils. Is then our anger vain?<br/> +No; if this sceptre yet commands the main.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke, and high the forky trident hurl’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’d,<br/> +And question’d thus his yet unconquer’d mind; +</p> + +<p> +“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’d is yet the measure of my woes;<br/> +With what a cloud the brows of heaven are crown’d;<br/> +What raging winds! what roaring waters round!<br/> +’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’d in Atrides’ cause the Trojan plain!<br/> +Oh! had I died before that well-fought wall!<br/> +Had some distinguish’d day renown’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!” +</p> + +<p> +A mighty wave rush’d o’er him as he spoke,<br/> +The raft is cover’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’er the main.<br/> +Long-press’d, he heaved beneath the weighty wave,<br/> +Clogg’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’en then not mindless of his last retreat,<br/> +He seized the raft, and leap’d into his seat,<br/> +Strong with the fear of death. In rolling flood,<br/> +Now here, now there, impell’d the floating wood<br/> +As when a heap of gather’d thorns is cast,<br/> +Now to, now fro, before the autumnal blast;<br/> +Together clung, it rolls around the field;<br/> +So roll’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’er the sea.<br/> +The wandering chief with toils on toils oppress’d,<br/> +Leucothea saw, and pity touch’d her breast.<br/> +(Herself a mortal once, of Cadmus’ 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’d him: “Thou whom heaven decrees<br/> +To Neptune’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’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.” +</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’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/> +“What shall I do? unhappy me! who knows<br/> +But other gods intend me other woes?<br/> +Whoe’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’ fury, here I fix’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.” +</p> + +<p> +While thus his thoughts an anxious council hold,<br/> +The raging god a watery mountain roll’d;<br/> +Like a black sheet the whelming billows spread,<br/> +Burst o’er the float, and thunder’d on his head.<br/> +Planks, beams, disparted fly; the scatter’d wood<br/> +Rolls diverse, and in fragments strews the flood.<br/> +So the rude Boreas, o’er the field new-shorn,<br/> +Tosses and drives the scatter’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’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> +“Go, learn’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’er thy fate, the ills our wrath could raise<br/> +Shall last remember’d in thy best of days.” +</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’s daughter Pallas watch’d the favouring hour.<br/> +Back to their caves she bade the winds to fly;<br/> +And hush’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’d,<br/> +Since wide he wander’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’d, the billows scarcely curl’d,<br/> +And a dead silence still’d the watery world;<br/> +When lifted on a ridgy wave he spies<br/> +The land at distance, and with sharpen’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’d on death in vain,<br/> +Fix’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’d limbs and beating heart,<br/> +As thus he communed with his soul apart; +</p> + +<p> +“Ah me! when, o’er a length of waters toss’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’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.”<br/> +While thus he thought, a monstrous wave upbore<br/> +The chief, and dash’d him on the craggy shore;<br/> +Torn was his skin, nor had the ribs been whole,<br/> +But Instant Pallas enter’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’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’d Ulysses hands,<br/> +And now had perish’d, whelm’d beneath the main,<br/> +The unhappy man; e’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’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’d a bay impervious to the wind.<br/> +To this calm port the glad Ulysses press’d,<br/> +And hail’d the river, and its god address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“Whoe’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’d.” +</p> + +<p> +He pray’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’d the shore,<br/> +He dropp’d his sinewy arms: his knees no more<br/> +Perform’d their office, or his weight upheld:<br/> +His swoln heart heaved; his bloated body swell’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’s scarf unbound;<br/> +Observant of her word, he turn’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’d;<br/> +The bank he press’d, and gently kiss’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> +“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?—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’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.” +</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’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’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’d leaves an ample bed he made<br/> +(Thick strewn by tempest through the bowery shade);<br/> +Where three at least might winter’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’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’d, preserves the seeds of fire:<br/> +Hid in dry foliage thus Ulysses lies,<br/> +Till Pallas pour’d soft slumbers on his eyes;<br/> +And golden dreams (the gift of sweet repose)<br/> +Lull’d all his cares, and banish’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’s aërial height<br/> +Swift to Phæacia wing’d her rapid flight.<br/> +In elder times the soft Phæacian train<br/> +In ease possess’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’d her laurell’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’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’s blooming form she took,<br/> +From Dymas sprung, and thus the vision spoke: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh Indolent! to waste thy hours away!<br/> +And sleep’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’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.”<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’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’d<br/> +With crimson threads, while busy damsels call<br/> +The snowy fleece, or twist the purpled wool.<br/> +Meanwhile Phæacia’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’d him passing, and submissive said: +</p> + +<p> +“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’d that praise is mine.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus she: but blushes ill-restrain’d betray<br/> +Her thoughts intentive on the bridal day,<br/> +The conscious sire the dawning blush survey’d,<br/> +And, smiling, thus bespoke the blooming maid<br/> +“My child, my darling joy, the car receive;<br/> +That, and whate’er our daughter asks, we give.”<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’d of burnish’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’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’erspread the shelly sand,<br/> +Their snowy lustre whitens all the strand);<br/> +Then with a short repast relieve their toil,<br/> +And o’er their limbs diffuse ambrosial oil;<br/> +And while the robes imbibe the solar ray,<br/> +O’er the green mead the sporting virgins play<br/> +(Their shining veils unbound). Along the skies,<br/> +Toss’d and retoss’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’er Erymanth Diana roves,<br/> +Or wide Täygetus’ 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’s brow<br/> +They bay the boar, or chase the bounding roe;<br/> +High o’er the lawn, with more majestic pace,<br/> +Above the nymphs she treads with stately grace;<br/> +Distinguish’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’er the beauteous train. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime (the care and favourite of the skies<br/> +Wrapp’d in imbowering shade, Ulysses lies,<br/> +His woes forgot! but Pallas now address’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> +“Ah me! on what inhospitable coast,<br/> +On what new region is Ulysses toss’d;<br/> +Possess’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’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?” +</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’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’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’d alone,<br/> +By Pallas arm’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’d,<br/> +At awful distance he accosts the maid: +</p> + +<p> +“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’er all, the youth with heavenly charms,<br/> +Who clasps the bright perfection in his arms!<br/> +Never, I never view’d till this blest hour<br/> +Such finish’d grace! I gaze, and I adore!<br/> +Thus seems the palm with stately honours crown’d<br/> +By Phœbus’ altars; thus o’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’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’d, resign’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.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the nymph: “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’d, the will of Jove;<br/> +Who breathes, must mourn: thy woes are from above.<br/> +But since thou tread’st our hospitable shore,<br/> +’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’ royal loins I spring,<br/> +A happy nation, and a happy king.” +</p> + +<p> +Then to her maids: “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/> +’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/> +’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.” +</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: “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.” +</p> + +<p> +The nymphs withdrawn, at once into the tide<br/> +Active he bounds; the flashing waves divide<br/> +O’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’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’d,<br/> +And to her damsels, with amazement, said: +</p> + +<p> +“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.”<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’er the field; and as she press’d<br/> +The splendid seat, the listening chief address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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’er the furrows waves the golden grain;<br/> +Alone I reascend—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’s fane adjoins;<br/> +And near, a forum flank’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’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’d race—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/> +‘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.’<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’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’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +She added not, but waving, as she wheel’d,<br/> +The silver scourge, it glitter’d o’er the field;<br/> +With skill the virgin guides the embroider’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’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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’d maid! accord my vows,<br/> +Bid the Great hear, and pitying, heal my woes.” +</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’d.<br/> +Till great Ulysses hail’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’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’s heart inflamed,<br/> +Now worn with age, Eurymedusa named;<br/> +The captive dame Phæacian rovers bore,<br/> +Snatch’d from Epirus, her sweet native shore<br/> +(A grateful prize), and in her bloom bestow’d<br/> +On good Alcinous, honor’d as a god;<br/> +Nurse of Nausicaa from her infant years,<br/> +And tender second to a mother’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’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’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> +“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’ hospitable dome.<br/> +Far from my native coast, I rove alone,<br/> +A wretched stranger, and of all unknown!” +</p> + +<p> +The goddess answer’d: “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’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’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.” +</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’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’ lofty domes admires,<br/> +In separate islands, crown’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’d;<br/> +There stopp’d the goddess, and her speech renew’d; +</p> + +<p> +“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’s claim,<br/> +Alcinous’ queen, Arete is her name.<br/> +The same her parents, and her power the same.<br/> +For know, from ocean’s god Nausithous sprung,<br/> +And Peribæa, beautiful and young<br/> +(Eurymedon’s last hope, who ruled of old<br/> +The race of giants, impious, proud, and bold:<br/> +Perish’d the nation in unrighteous war,<br/> +Perish’d the prince, and left this only heir),<br/> +Who now, by Neptune’s amorous power compress’d,<br/> +Produced a monarch that his people bless’d,<br/> +Father and prince of the Phæacian name;<br/> +From him Rhexenor and Alcinous came.<br/> +The first by Phœbus’ hurtling arrows fired,<br/> +New from his nuptials, hapless youth! expired.<br/> +No son survived; Arete heir’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’d;<br/> +In virtue rich; in blessing others, bless’d.<br/> +(to then secure, thy humble suit prefer<br/> +And owe thy country and thy friends to her.” +</p> + +<p> +With that the goddess deign’d no longer stay,<br/> +But o’er the world of waters wing’d her way;<br/> +Forsaking Scheria’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’d, delighted with the well-known seats;<br/> +And to Erectheus’ sacred dome retreats. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile Ulysses at the palace waits,<br/> +There stops, and anxious with his soul debates,<br/> +Fix’d in amaze before the royal gates.<br/> +The front appear’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’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’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’d silver stood<br/> +These Vulcan form’d with art divine, to wait<br/> +Immortal guardians at Alcinous’ 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’d,<br/> +Day following day, a long-continued feast.<br/> +Refulgent pedestals the walls surround,<br/> +Which boys of gold with flaming torches crown’d;<br/> +The polish’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’d the men of Scheria’s isle<br/> +For sailing arts and all the naval toil,<br/> +Than works of female skill their women’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’d the fruitful mould:<br/> +The reddening apple ripens here to gold.<br/> +Here the blue fig with luscious juice o’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’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’d on the sunnyside,<br/> +And there in autumn’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’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’d,<br/> +To grace Alcinous, and his happy land.<br/> +E’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’er,<br/> +Then hasty enter’d at the lofty door.<br/> +Night now approaching, in the palace stand,<br/> +With goblets crown’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’ throne he came,<br/> +And prostrate fell before the imperial dame.<br/> +Then from around him dropp’d the veil of night;<br/> +Sudden he shines, and manifest to sight.<br/> +The nobles gaze, with awful fear oppress’d;<br/> +Silent they gaze, and eye the godlike guest. +</p> + +<p> +“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/> +’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’s breast,<br/> +Your people blessing, by your people bless’d!” +</p> + +<p> +Then to the genial hearth he bow’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’d,<br/> +And join’d to that the experience of the last.<br/> +Fit words attended on his weighty sense,<br/> +And mild persuasion flow’d in eloquence. +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’s due.” +</p> + +<p> +His sage advice the listening king obeys,<br/> +He stretch’d his hand the prudent chief to raise,<br/> +And from his seat Laodamas removed<br/> +(The monarch’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’d from the cool translucent springs,<br/> +Whose polish’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’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/> +“Let all around the due libation pay<br/> +To Jove, who guides the wanderer on his way.” +</p> + +<p> +He said. Pontonous heard the king’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> +“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’s cause;<br/> +Then join’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’d,<br/> +Heaven’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’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’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let no such thought (with modest grace rejoin’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’d of those<br/> +Whom Fate has loaded with a weight of woes;<br/> +By a sad train of Miseries alone<br/> +Distinguish’d long, and second now to none!<br/> +By Heaven’s high will compell’d from shore to shore;<br/> +With Heaven’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’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’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!” +</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’d: beside him, on a splendid throne,<br/> +Divine Arete and Alcinous shone.<br/> +The queen, on nearer view, the guest survey’d,<br/> +Rob’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> +“Camest thou hither, wondrous stranger! say,<br/> +From lands remote and o’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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’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’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’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’d your pleasing coast,<br/> +And woody mountains half in vapours lost.<br/> +Joy touched my soul; my soul was joy’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’d me on a craggy coast.<br/> +I chose the safer sea, and chanced to find<br/> +A river’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/> +’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +To this the king: “Our daughter but express’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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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’s of a jealous and mistaken kind.” +</p> + +<p> +“Far from my soul (he cried) the gods efface<br/> +All wrath ill-grounded, and suspicion base!<br/> +Whate’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus he. No word the experienced man replies,<br/> +But thus to heaven (and heavenward lifts his eyes):<br/> +“O Jove! O father! what the king accords<br/> +Do thou make perfect! sacred be his words!<br/> +Wide o’er the world Alcinous’ glory shine!<br/> +Let fame be his, and ah! my country mine!” +</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’d,<br/> +And finish’d all their queen’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’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, &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> +“Nobles and chiefs who rule Phæacia’s states,<br/> +The king in council your attendance waits;<br/> +A prince of grace divine your aid implores,<br/> +O’er unknown seas arrived from unknown shores.” +</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/> +“Attend (he cried) while we our will disclose.<br/> +Your present aid this godlike stranger craves,<br/> +Toss’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.” +</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’d;<br/> +Eight boars, the choicest of the herd, are kill’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’d with mighty woe;<br/> +With clouds of darkness quench’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’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’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’d at the song, Ulysses straight resign’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’d,<br/> +He pour’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’d his pensive head.<br/> +Again unmann’d, a shower of sorrows shed;<br/> +Conceal’d he wept; the king observed alone<br/> +The silent tear, and heard the secret groan;<br/> +Then to the bard aloud—“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’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.” +</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’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’ heir;<br/> +Euryalus, like Mars terrific, rose,<br/> +When clad in wrath he withers hosts of foes;<br/> +Naubolides with grace unequall’d shone,<br/> +Or equall’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’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’d the rapid way,<br/> +And bore the unrivall’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’ strong arm the discus flies,<br/> +And sings with unmatch’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> +“O friends (he cries), the stranger seems well skill’d<br/> +To try the illustrious labours of the field:<br/> +I deem him brave: then grant the brave man’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’d! how broad his shoulders spread!<br/> +By age unbroke!—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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well hast thou spoke (Euryalus replies):<br/> +Thine is the guest, invite him thou to rise.”<br/> +Swift as the word, advancing from the crowd,<br/> +He made obeisance, and thus spoke aloud: +</p> + +<p> +“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’en now the gales<br/> +Call thee aboard, and stretch the swelling sails.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom with sighs Ulysses gave reply:<br/> +“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.” +</p> + +<p>“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’d,<br/> +But dreads the athletic labours of the field.” +</p> + +<p> +Incensed, Ulysses with a frown replies:<br/> +“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’ll bear the brave a rude ungovern’d tongue,<br/> +And, youth, my generous soul resents the wrong.<br/> +Skill’d in heroic exercise, I claim<br/> +A post of honour with the sons of Fame.<br/> +Such was my boast while vigour crown’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’d, no more I waive<br/> +To prove the hero—slander stings the brave.” +</p> + +<p> +Then gliding forward with a furious bound<br/> +He wrench’d a rocky fragment from the ground<br/> +By far more ponderous, and more huge by far<br/> +Than what Phæacia’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’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’d a distinguish’d mark, and cried aloud: +</p> + +<p> +“E’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.” +</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/> +“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’d arrow wings to kill;<br/> +Should a whole host at once discharge the bow,<br/> +My well-aim’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’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Abash’d, the numbers hear the godlike man,<br/> +Till great Alcinous mildly thus began: +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’d our sires with praise,<br/> +How we their offspring dignify our race. +</p> + +<p> +“Let other realms the deathful gauntlet wield,<br/> +Or boast the glories of the athletic field:<br/> +We in the course unrivall’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’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> +“But, herald, to the palace swift repair,<br/> +And the soft lyre to grace our pastimes bear.” +</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’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’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’d with her charms<br/> +Clasp’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’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’d recess, and to the goddess flies;<br/> +He glows, he burns, the fair-hair’d queen of love<br/> +Descends, smooth gliding from the courts of Jove,<br/> +Gay blooming in full charms: her hand he press’d<br/> +With eager joy, and with a sigh address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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!” +</p> + +<p> +Then, nothing loth, the enamour’d fair he led,<br/> +And sunk transported on the conscious bed.<br/> +Down rush’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’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> +“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’s eyes!<br/> +But yet, I trust, this once e’en Mars would fly<br/> +His fair-one’s arms—he thinks her, once, too nigh.<br/> +But there remain, ye guilty, in my power,<br/> +Till Jove refunds his shameless daughter’s dower.<br/> +Too dear I prized a fair enchanting face:<br/> +Beauty unchaste is beauty in disgrace.” +</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’d as they lie,<br/> +And unextinguish’d laughter shakes the sky.<br/> +Then mutual, thus they spoke: “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.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus serious they; but he who gilds the skies,<br/> +The gay Apollo, thus to Hermes cries:<br/> +“Wouldst thou enchain’d like Mars, O Hermes, lie<br/> +And bear the shame like Mars to share the joy?” +</p> + +<p> +“O envied shame! (the smiling youth rejoin’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Loud laugh the rest, e’en Neptune laughs aloud,<br/> +Yet sues importunate to loose the god.<br/> +“And free, (he cries) O Vulcan! free from shame<br/> +Thy captives; I ensure the penal claim.” +</p> + +<p> +“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?” He instant cries,<br/> +“The mulct I bear, if Mars perfidious flies.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom appeased: “No more I urge delay;<br/> +When Neptune sues, my part is to obey.”<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’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: “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.” +</p> + +<p> +Pleas’d with his people’s fame, the monarch hears,<br/> +And thus benevolent accosts the peers:<br/> +“Since wisdom’s sacred guidance he pursues,<br/> +Give to the stranger-guest a stranger’s dues:<br/> +Twelve princes in our realm dominion share,<br/> +O’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.” +</p> + +<p> +The assenting peers, obedient to the king,<br/> +In haste their heralds send the gifts to bring.<br/> +Then thus Euryalus: “O prince, whose sway<br/> +Rules this bless’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’s side.” +</p> + +<p> +He said, and to his hand the sword consign’d:<br/> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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,” +</p> + +<p> +He said, and o’er his shoulder flung the blade.<br/> +Now o’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’ 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: “O partner of our reign,<br/> +O sole beloved! command thy menial train<br/> +A polish’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.” +</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’er the blaze.<br/> +Herself the chest prepares; in order roll’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: “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.” +</p> + +<p> +Then bending with full force around he roll’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’d ill-fated from Calypso’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’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’d,<br/> +And graceful thus began the royal maid: +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’d,<br/> +To my dear country’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!” 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’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/> +“This, let the master of the lyre receive,<br/> +A pledge of love! ’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.” +</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’d,<br/> +Thus to the lyrist wise Ulysses said:<br/> +“O more than man! thy soul the muse inspires,<br/> +Or Phœbus animates with all his fires;<br/> +For who, by Phœbus uninform’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Full of the god he raised his lofty strain:<br/> +How the Greeks rush’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’en in Ilion’s walls, in deathful bands,<br/> +Came the stern Greeks by Troy’s assisting hands:<br/> +All Troy up-heaved the steed; of differing mind,<br/> +Various the Trojans counsell’d: part consign’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’ 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—subdues, for Pallas strings his arms +</p> + +<p> +Thus while he sung, Ulysses’ 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’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’d, as wildly she deplores;<br/> +A widow, and a slave on foreign shores. +</p> + +<p> +So from the sluices of Ulysses’ eyes<br/> +Fast fell the tears, and sighs succeeded sighs:<br/> +Conceal’d he grieved: the king observed alone<br/> +The silent tear, and heard the secret groan;<br/> +Then to the bard aloud: “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’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’s blood. +</p> + +<p> +“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’d,<br/> +And what inhabitants those regions boast?<br/> +So shalt thou instant reach the realm assign’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’s all-seeing ray;<br/> +Though clouds and darkness veil the encumber’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’en the stern god that o’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’d<br/> +What customs noted, and what coasts survey’d;<br/> +Possess’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’d the Greeks to bleed,<br/> +A theme of future song! Say, then, if slain<br/> +Some dear-loved brother press’d the Phrygian plain?<br/> +Or bled some friend, who bore a brother’s part,<br/> +And claim’d by merit, not by blood, the heart?” +</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: “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’d!<br/> +How goodly seems it ever to employ<br/> +Man’s social days in union and in joy;<br/> +The plenteous hoard high-heap’d with cates divine,<br/> +And o’er the foaming bowl the laughing wine! +</p> + +<p> +“Amid these joys, why seeks thy mind to know<br/> +The unhappy series of a wanderer’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> +“Know first the man (though now a wretch distress’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> +“My native soil is Ithaca the fair,<br/> +Where high Neritus waves his woods in air;<br/> +Dulichium, Same and Zaccynthus crown’d<br/> +With shady mountains spread their isles around.<br/> +(These to the north and night’s dark regions run,<br/> +Those to Aurora and the rising sun).<br/> +Low lies our isle, yet bless’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’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’s image never was forgot;<br/> +My absent parents rose before my sight,<br/> +And distant lay contentment and delight. +</p> + +<p> +“Hear, then, the woes which mighty Jove ordain’d<br/> +To wait my passage from the Trojan land.<br/> +The winds from Ilion to the Cicons’ shore,<br/> +Beneath cold Ismarus our vessels bore.<br/> +We boldly landed on the hostile place,<br/> +And sack’d the city, and destroy’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’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’d country swarms,<br/> +And all the continent is bright with arms;<br/> +Thick as the budding leaves or rising flowers<br/> +O’erspread the land, when spring descends in showers:<br/> +All expert soldiers, skill’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’er heaven’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’erhung the main,<br/> +Then conquest crown’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’ rites we paid,<br/> +And thrice we call’d on each unhappy shade, +</p> + +<p> +“Meanwhile the god, whose hand the thunder forms,<br/> +Drives clouds on clouds, and blackens heaven with storms:<br/> +Wide o’er the waste the rage of Boreas sweeps,<br/> +And night rush’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’d the sail, we plied the labouring oar,<br/> +Took down our masts, and row’d our ships to shore.<br/> +Two tedious days and two long nights we lay,<br/> +O’erwatch’d and batter’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’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’d:<br/> +But, the cape doubled, adverse winds prevail’d.<br/> +Strong was the tide, which by the northern blast<br/> +Impell’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’d, by various errors toss’d,<br/> +The land of Lotus and the flowery coast.<br/> +We climb’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’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’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’d reluctant, and by force we bound.<br/> +The rest in haste forsook the pleasing shore,<br/> +Or, the charm tasted, had return’d no more.<br/> +Now placed in order on their banks, they sweep<br/> +The sea’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> +“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’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> +“Opposed to the Cyclopæan coast, there lay<br/> +An isle, whose hill their subject fields survey;<br/> +Its name Lachaea, crown’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’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’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’d<br/> +The seas to traverse, or the ships to build,<br/> +Gaze on the coast, nor cultivate the soil,<br/> +Unlearn’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> +“A port there is, inclosed on either side,<br/> +Where ships may rest, unanchor’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’d rock,<br/> +In living rills a gushing fountain broke:<br/> +Around it, and above, for ever green,<br/> +The busy alders form’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’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’d in the shelter’d bay:<br/> +Our sails we gather’d, cast our cables o’er,<br/> +And slept secure along the sandy shore.<br/> +Soon as again the rosy morning shone,<br/> +Reveal’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’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> +“Here, till the setting sun roll’d down the light,<br/> +We sat indulging in the genial rite:<br/> +Nor wines were wanting; those from ample jars<br/> +We drain’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’d o’er<br/> +The face of things: along the sea-beat shore<br/> +Satiate we slept: but, when the sacred dawn<br/> +Arising glitter’d o’er the dewy lawn,<br/> +I call’d my fellows, and these words address’d<br/> +‘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’s right;<br/> +Or such who harbour pity in their breast,<br/> +Revere the gods, and succour the distress’d,’ +</p> + +<p> +“This said, I climb’d my vessel’s lofty side;<br/> +My train obey’d me, and the ship untied.<br/> +In order seated on their banks, they sweep<br/> +Neptune’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’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’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’s monstrous growth he stood,<br/> +Crown’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’d with precious wine,<br/> +The gift of Maron of Evantheus’ line<br/> +(The priest of Phœbus at the Ismarian shrine).<br/> +In sacred shade his honour’d mansion stood<br/> +Amidst Apollo’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’d,<br/> +The hoary sire in gratitude reveal’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’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’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’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’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> +“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’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’d flock.<br/> +Big-udder’d ewes, and goats of female kind<br/> +(The males were penn’d in outward courts behind);<br/> +Then, heaved on high, a rock’s enormous weight<br/> +To the cave’s mouth he roll’d, and closed the gate<br/> +(Scarce twenty four-wheel’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’s teat submits the lambs;<br/> +Half the white stream to hardening cheese be press’d,<br/> +And high in wicker-baskets heap’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’d by the rising fires;<br/> +Askance the giant glares, and thus inquires: +</p> + +<p> +“‘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?’ +</p> + +<p> +“His voice like thunder through the cavern sounds;<br/> +My bold companions thrilling fear confounds,<br/> +Appall’d at sight of more than mortal man!<br/> +At length, with heart recover’d, I began: +</p> + +<p> +“‘From Troy’s famed fields, sad wanderers o’er the main,<br/> +Behold the relics of the Grecian train:<br/> +Through various seas, by various perils toss’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’s command!<br/> +Nor what we are befits us to disclaim,<br/> +Atrides’ 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/> +’Tis what the happy to the unhappy owe;<br/> +’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“‘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’er,<br/> +Where lies she anchor’d? near or off the shore?’ +</p> + +<p> +“Thus he. His meditated fraud I find<br/> +(Versed in the turns of various human-kind):<br/> +And, cautious thus: ‘Against a dreadful rock,<br/> +Fast by your shore the gallant vessel broke.<br/> +Scarce with these few I ’scaped; of all my train,<br/> +Whom angry Neptune, whelm’d beneath the main,<br/> +The scattered wreck the winds blew back again.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He answer’d with his deed: his bloody hand<br/> +Snatch’d two, unhappy! of my martial band;<br/> +And dash’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’d,<br/> +A milky deluge next the giant swill’d;<br/> +Then stretch’d in length o’er half the cavern’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’s teats submits the lambs.<br/> +The task thus finish’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’s lid is oped and closed.<br/> +His giant voice the echoing region fills:<br/> +His flocks, obedient, spread o’er all the hills. +</p> + +<p> +“Thus left behind, even in the last despair<br/> +I thought, devised, and Pallas heard my prayer.<br/> +Revenge, and doubt, and caution, work’d my breast;<br/> +But this of many counsels seem’d the best:<br/> +The monster’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’d of its top, I gave my train<br/> +A fathom’s length, to shape it and to plane;<br/> +The narrower end I sharpen’d to a spire,<br/> +Whose point we harden’d with the force of fire,<br/> +And hid it in the dust that strew’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’s unwieldy weight,<br/> +He roll’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’d on the rock; his second dire repast.<br/> +I then approach’d him reeking with their gore,<br/> +And held the brimming goblet foaming o’er;<br/> +‘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’er approach thy shore,<br/> +And never shalt thou taste this nectar more,’ +</p> + +<p> +“He heard, he took, and pouring down his throat,<br/> +Delighted, swill’d the large luxurious draught,<br/> +‘More! give me more (he cried): the boon be thine,<br/> +Whoe’er thou art that bear’st celestial wine!<br/> +Declare thy name: not mortal is this juice,<br/> +Such as the unbless’d Cyclopæan climes produce<br/> +(Though sure our vine the largest cluster yields,<br/> +And Jove’s scorn’d thunder serves to drench our fields);<br/> +But this descended from the bless’d abodes,<br/> +A rill of nectar, streaming from the gods.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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/> +‘Thy promised boon, O Cyclop! now I claim,<br/> +And plead my title; Noman is my name.<br/> +By that distinguish’d from my tender years,<br/> +’Tis what my parents call me, and my peers. +</p> + +<p> +“The giant then: ‘Our promis’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He said: then nodding with the fumes of wine<br/> +Droop’d his huge head, and snoring lay supine.<br/> +His neck obliquely o’er his shoulders hung,<br/> +Press’d with the weight of sleep that tames the strong:<br/> +There belch’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’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’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’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’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> +“‘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?’<br/> +Thus they; the Cyclop from his den replies: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Friends, Noman kills me; Noman in the hour<br/> +Of sleep, oppresses me with fraudful power.’<br/> +‘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.’<br/> +The brethren cried, and instant strode away.<br/> +“Joy touch’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’d each passing sheep, and felt it o’er,<br/> +Secure to seize us ere we reach’d the door<br/> +(Such as his shallow wit he deem’d was mine);<br/> +But secret I revolved the deep design:<br/> +’Twas for our lives my labouring bosom wrought;<br/> +Each scheme I turn’d, and sharpen’d every thought;<br/> +This way and that I cast to save my friends,<br/> +Till one resolve my varying counsel ends. +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’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’d o’er the dales,<br/> +He drove to pasture all the lusty males:<br/> +The ewes still folded, with distended thighs<br/> +Unmilk’d lay bleating in distressful cries.<br/> +But heedless of those cares, with anguish stung,<br/> +He felt their fleeces as they pass’d along<br/> +(Fool that he was.) and let them safely go,<br/> +All unsuspecting of their freight below. +</p> + +<p> +“The master ram at last approach’d the gate,<br/> +Charged with his wool, and with Ulysses’ fate.<br/> +Him while he pass’d, the monster blind bespoke:<br/> +‘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’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’s woe!<br/> +Seest thou these lids that now unfold in vain?<br/> +(The deed of Noman and his wicked train!)<br/> +Oh! did’st thou feel for thy afflicted lord,<br/> +And would but Fate the power of speech afford.<br/> +Soon might’st thou tell me, where in secret here<br/> +The dastard lurks, all trembling with his fear:<br/> +Swung round and round, and dash’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“The giant spoke, and through the hollow rock<br/> +Dismiss’d the ram, the father of the flock.<br/> +No sooner freed, and through the inclosure pass’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’d,<br/> +And hail us living whom as dead they mourn’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> +“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/> +‘Hear me, O Cyclop! hear, ungracious host!<br/> +’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’d to inflict; the instrument of Jove.<br/> +Thy barbarous breach of hospitable bands,<br/> +The god, the god revenges by my hands.’ +</p> + +<p> +“These words the Cyclop’s burning rage provoke;<br/> +From the tall hill he rends a pointed rock;<br/> +High o’er the billows flew the massy load,<br/> +And near the ship came thundering on the flood.<br/> +It almost brush’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’d back the vessel to the island’s side:<br/> +Again I shoved her off: our fate to fly,<br/> +Each nerve we stretch, and every oar we ply.<br/> +Just ’scaped impending death, when now again<br/> +We twice as far had furrow’d back the main,<br/> +Once more I raise my voice; my friends, afraid,<br/> +With mild entreaties my design dissuade:<br/> +‘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’erwhelms us, and we ’scaped in vain.’ +</p> + +<p> +“But I, of mind elate, and scorning fear,<br/> +Thus with new taunts insult the monster’s ear:<br/> +‘Cyclop! if any, pitying thy disgrace.<br/> +Ask, who disfigured thus that eyeless face?<br/> +Say ’twas Ulysses: ’twas his deed declare,<br/> +Laertes’ son, of Ithaca the fair;<br/> +Ulysses, far in fighting fields renown’d,<br/> +Before whose arm Troy tumbled to the ground.’ +</p> + +<p> +“The astonished savage with a roar replies:<br/> +‘Oh heavens! oh faith of ancient prophecies!<br/> +This, Telemus Eurymedes foretold<br/> +(The mighty seer who on these hills grew old;<br/> +Skill’d the dark fates of mortals to declare,<br/> +And learn’d in all wing’d omens of the air);<br/> +Long since he menaced, such was Fate’s command;<br/> +And named Ulysses as the destined hand.<br/> +I deem’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’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.’<br/> +“‘Oh! could this arm (I thus aloud rejoin’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.’<br/> +“Thus I; while raging he repeats his cries,<br/> +With hands uplifted to the starry skies?<br/> +‘Hear me, O Neptune; thou whose arms are hurl’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’ 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’er;<br/> +And when at home from foreign sufferings freed,<br/> +More near and deep, domestic woes succeed!’<br/> +With imprecations thus he fill’d the air,<br/> +And angry Neptune heard the unrighteous prayer,<br/> +A larger rock then heaving from the plain,<br/> +He whirl’d it round: it sung across the main;<br/> +It fell, and brush’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’d the island where our vessels lay.<br/> +Our sight the whole collected navy cheer’d.<br/> +Who, waiting long, by turns had hoped and fear’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’ 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’d away the light;<br/> +Stretch’d on the shore in careless ease we rest,<br/> +Till ruddy morning purpled o’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.” +</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’s stay +with her, he prepares, at her instigation, for his voyage to the infernal +shades. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +“At length we reach’d Æolias’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’ 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’d with love the pleasures of the day.<br/> +This happy port affords our wandering fleet<br/> +A month’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’d their force, and lock’d each struggling blast.<br/> +For him the mighty sire of gods assign’d<br/> +The tempest’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’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> +“Nine prosperous days we plied the labouring oar;<br/> +The tenth presents our welcome native shore:<br/> +The hills display the beacon’s friendly light,<br/> +And rising mountains gain upon our sight.<br/> +Then first my eyes, by watchful toils oppress’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’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’d his thought: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Say, whence ye gods, contending nations strive<br/> +Who most shall please, who most our hero give?<br/> +Long have his coffers groan’d with Trojan spoils:<br/> +Whilst we, the wretched partners of his toils,<br/> +Reproach’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,’<br/> +They said: and (oh cursed fate!) the thongs unbound!<br/> +The gushing tempest sweeps the ocean round;<br/> +Snatch’d in the whirl, the hurried navy flew,<br/> +The ocean widen’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> +“Meanwhile our vessels plough the liquid plain,<br/> +And soon the known AEolian coast regain;<br/> +Our groan the rocks remurmur’d to the main.<br/> +We leap’d on shore, and with a scanty feast<br/> +Our thirst and hunger hastily repress’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’d;<br/> +There humbly stoop’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/> +‘Ulysses here! what demon could’st thou meet<br/> +To thwart thy passage, and repel thy fleet?<br/> +Wast thou not furnish’d by our choicest care<br/> +For Greece, for home and all thy soul held dear?’<br/> +Thus they, In silence long my fate I mourn’d;<br/> +At length these words with accents low return’d:<br/> +`Me, lock’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Thus I with art to move their pity tried,<br/> +And touch’d the youths; but their stern sire replied:<br/> +‘Vile wretch, begone! this instant I command<br/> +Thy fleet accursed to leave our hallow’d land.<br/> +His baneful suit pollutes these bless’d abodes,<br/> +Whose fate proclaims him hateful to the gods.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’ stately towers appear,<br/> +And Laestrygonia’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’s to the shepherd’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> +“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’d o’er the deep.<br/> +I only in the bay refused to moor,<br/> +And fix’d without, my halsers to the shore. +</p> + +<p> +“From thence we climb’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’d the land.<br/> +They went, and kept the wheel’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’s silver streams came down;<br/> +(Artacia’s streams alone supply the town);<br/> +The damsel they approach, and ask’d what race<br/> +The people were? who monarch of the place?<br/> +With joy the maid the unwary strangers heard<br/> +And show’d them where the royal dome appear’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’s height),<br/> +A sudden horror struck their aching sight.<br/> +Swift at her call her husband scour’d away<br/> +To wreak his hunger on the destined prey;<br/> +One for his food the raging glutton slew,<br/> +But two rush’d out, and to the navy flew. +</p> + +<p> +“Balk’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’d their filthy throats with human food.<br/> +Whilst thus their fury rages at the bay,<br/> +My sword our cables cut, I call’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’d dies.<br/> +With earnest haste my frighted sailors press,<br/> +While kindling transports glow’d at our success;<br/> +But the sad fate that did our friends destroy,<br/> +Cool’d every breast, and damp’d the rising joy. +</p> + +<p> +“Now dropp’d our anchors in the Ææan bay,<br/> +Where Circe dwelt, the daughter of the Day!<br/> +Her mother Perse, of old Ocean’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’erwatch’d. Two days and nights roll’d on,<br/> +And now the third succeeding morning shone.<br/> +I climb’d a cliff, with spear and sword in hand,<br/> +Whose ridge o’erlook’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’d, in distant view,<br/> +A stream of curling smoke ascending blue,<br/> +And spiry tops, the tufted trees above,<br/> +Of Circe’s palace bosom’d in the grove. +</p> + +<p> +“Thither to haste, the region to explore,<br/> +Was first my thought: but speeding back to shore<br/> +I deem’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’d forth and panting in the sunny ray.<br/> +I launch’d my spear, and with a sudden wound<br/> +Transpierced his back, and fix’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’s side<br/> +The bloody spear, his gather’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’d the sinking sands<br/> +With weighty steps, till at the ship I threw<br/> +The welcome burden, and bespoke my crew: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Cheer up, my friends! it is not yet our fate<br/> +To glide with ghosts through Pluto’s gloomy gate.<br/> +Food in the desert land, behold! is given!<br/> +Live, and enjoy the providence of heaven.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’d down the light,<br/> +They sate indulging in the genial rite.<br/> +When evening rose, and darkness cover’d o’er<br/> +The face of things, we slept along the shore.<br/> +But when the rosy morning warm’d the east,<br/> +My men I summon’d, and these words address’d:<br/> +“‘Followers and friends, attend what I propose:<br/> +Ye sad companions of Ulysses’ 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’s brow<br/> +I view’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!’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’d with twice eleven in his train;<br/> +Pensive they march, and pensive we remain. +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’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> +“‘What voice celestial, chanting to the loom<br/> +(Or nymph, or goddess), echoes from the room?<br/> +Say, shall we seek access?’ With that they call;<br/> +And wide unfold the portals of the hall. +</p> + +<p> +“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’d.<br/> +On thrones around with downy coverings graced,<br/> +With semblance fair, the unhappy men she placed.<br/> +Milk newly press’d, the sacred flour of wheat,<br/> +And honey fresh, and Pramnian wines the treat:<br/> +But venom’d was the bread, and mix’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> +“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’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’ fates,<br/> +We press to hear what sadly he relates: +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’d, none repass’d the gate,<br/> +And not a man appears to tell their fate.’ +</p> + +<p> +“I heard, and instant o’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’d: +</p> + +<p> +“‘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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“I answer’d stern: ‘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.’<br/> +This said, and scornful turning from the shore<br/> +My haughty step, I stalk’d the valley o’er.<br/> +Till now approaching nigh the magic bower,<br/> +Where dwelt the enchantress skill’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/> +‘Ah whither roam’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’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’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’d mind to blandishment and love.<br/> +Nor shun the blessing proffer’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Thus while he spoke, the sovereign plant he drew<br/> +Where on the all-bearing earth unmark’d it grew,<br/> +And show’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’d;<br/> +The lofty gates the goddess wide display’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’d the potion, fraudulent of soul;<br/> +The poison mantled in the golden bowl.<br/> +I took, and quaff’d it, confident in heaven.<br/> +Then waved the wand, and then the word was given.<br/> +‘Hence to thy fellows! (dreadful she began:)<br/> +Go, be a beast!’—I heard, and yet was man. +</p> + +<p> +“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> +“‘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’d ocean round;<br/> +The man for wisdom’s various arts renown’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘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’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’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’er the couches painted carpets threw,<br/> +Whose purple lustre glow’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’d,<br/> +Fair in the midst, with gilded cups around:<br/> +That in the tripod o’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’s decay,<br/> +And take the painful sense of toil away.<br/> +A vest and tunic o’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’d from the cool translucent springs;<br/> +With copious water the bright vase supplies<br/> +A silver laver of capacious size.<br/> +I wash’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’d in care;<br/> +While scenes of woe rose anxious in my breast,<br/> +The queen beheld me, and these words address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Why sits Ulysses silent and apart,<br/> +Some hoard of grief close harbour’d at his heart<br/> +Untouch’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?’ +</p> + +<p> +“I answered: ‘Goddess! human is my breast,<br/> +By justice sway’d, by tender pity press’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’st thou please? for them thy cares employ,<br/> +And them to me restore, and me to joy.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’d with general cry,<br/> +Enormous beasts, dishonest to the eye.<br/> +Now touch’d by counter-charms they change again,<br/> +And stand majestic, and recall’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’er,<br/> +And sobs of joy re-echoed through the bower;<br/> +E’en Circe wept, her adamantine heart<br/> +Felt pity enter, and sustain’d her part. +</p> + +<p> +“‘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,’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’d. +</p> + +<p> +“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’d young,<br/> +Rush to their mothers with unruly joy,<br/> +And echoing hills return the tender cry:<br/> +So round me press’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’d to Ithaca from Troy.<br/> +‘Ah master! ever honour’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’ death.’ +</p> + +<p> +“I answer’d cheerful: ‘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’s sacred dome.’ +</p> + +<p> +“With ready speed the joyful crew obey:<br/> +Alone Eurylochus persuades their stay. +</p> + +<p> +“‘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’s rashness made the soldiers bleed.’ +</p> + +<p> +“I heard incensed, and first resolved to speed<br/> +My flying falchion at the rebel’s head.<br/> +Dear as he was, by ties of kindred bound,<br/> +This hand had stretch’d him breathless on the ground.<br/> +But all at once my interposing train<br/> +For mercy pleaded, nor could plead in vain.<br/> +‘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’s palace, where Ulysses leads.’ +</p> + +<p> +“This with one voice declared, the rising train<br/> +Left the black vessel by the murmuring main.<br/> +Shame touch’d Eurylochus’ alter’d breast:<br/> +He fear’d my threats, and follow’d with the rest. +</p> + +<p> +“Meanwhile the goddess, with indulgent cares<br/> +And social joys, the late transform’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’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’d their passion, thus the goddess cries:<br/> +‘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’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’d to sorrow for a country lost.<br/> +Exiles and wanderers now, where’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’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> +“‘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?’<br/> +“Melting I heard; yet till the sun’s decline<br/> +Prolong’d the feast, and quaff’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’s bed,<br/> +The tender moment seized, and thus I said:<br/> +‘Be mindful, goddess! of thy promise made;<br/> +Must sad Ulysses ever be delay’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Struck at the word, my very heart was dead:<br/> +Pensive I sate: my tears bedew’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’d,<br/> +And my toss’d limbs now wearied into rest.<br/> +‘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?’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘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’s utmost ends,<br/> +Where to the main the shelving shore descends;<br/> +The barren trees of Proserpine’s black woods,<br/> +Poplars and willows trembling o’er the floods:<br/> +There fix thy vessel in the lonely bay,<br/> +And enter there the kingdoms void of day,<br/> +Where Phlegethon’s loud torrents, rushing down,<br/> +Hiss in the flaming gulf of Acheron;<br/> +And where, slow rolling from the Stygian bed,<br/> +Cocytus’ lamentable waters spread:<br/> +Where the dark rock o’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’er the ingredients strew the hallow’d flour:<br/> +New wine and milk, with honey temper’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’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’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’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’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“So speaking, from the ruddy orient shone<br/> +The morn, conspicuous on her golden throne.<br/> +The goddess with a radiant tunic dress’d<br/> +My limbs, and o’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’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/> +‘Rise, rise, my mates! ’tis Circe gives command:<br/> +Our journey calls us; haste, and quit the land.’<br/> +All rise and follow, yet depart not all,<br/> +For Fate decreed one wretched man to fall. +</p> + +<p> +“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’s height<br/> +With sleep repair’d the long debauch of night:<br/> +The sudden tumult stirred him where he lay,<br/> +And down he hasten’d, but forgot the way;<br/> +Full headlong from the roof the sleeper fell,<br/> +And snapp’d the spinal joint, and waked in hell. +</p> + +<p> +“The rest crowd round me with an eager look;<br/> +I met them with a sigh, and thus bespoke:<br/> +‘Already, friends! ye think your toils are o’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’ awful shade below,<br/> +And thence our fortunes and our fates to know.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’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?” +</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"> +“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’d,<br/> +And solemn horror saddens every breast.<br/> +A freshening breeze the magic power supplied,<br/> +While the wing’d vessel flew along the tide;<br/> +Our oars we shipp’d; all day the swelling sails<br/> +Full from the guiding pilot catch’d the gales. +</p> + +<p> +“Now sunk the sun from his aërial height,<br/> +And o’er the shaded billows rush’d the night;<br/> +When lo! we reach’d old Ocean’s utmost bounds,<br/> +Where rocks control his waves with ever-during mounds. +</p> + +<p> +“There in a lonely land, and gloomy cells,<br/> +The dusky nation of Cimmeria dwells;<br/> +The sun ne’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> +“The ship we moor on these obscure abodes;<br/> +Disbark the sheep, an offering to the gods;<br/> +And, hellward bending, o’er the beach descry<br/> +The doleful passage to the infernal sky.<br/> +The victims, vow’d to each Tartarian power,<br/> +Eurylochus and Perimedes bore. +</p> + +<p> +“Here open’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’d, a cubit long and wide.<br/> +New wine, with honey-temper’d milk, we bring,<br/> +Then living waters from the crystal spring:<br/> +O’er these was strew’d the consecrated flour,<br/> +And on the surface shone the holy store. +</p> + +<p> +“Now the wan shades we hail, the infernal gods,<br/> +To speed our course, and waft us o’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’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> +“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’d,<br/> +And all the caverns smoked with streaming blood.<br/> +When lo! appear’d along the dusky coasts,<br/> +Thin, airy shoals of visionary ghosts:<br/> +Fair, pensive youths, and soft enamour’d maids;<br/> +And wither’d elders, pale and wrinkled shades;<br/> +Ghastly with wounds the forms of warriors slain<br/> +Stalk’d with majestic port, a martial train:<br/> +These and a thousand more swarm’d o’er the ground,<br/> +And all the dire assembly shriek’d around.<br/> +Astonish’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’d victims to the flames are cast,<br/> +And mutter’d vows, and mystic song applied<br/> +To grisly Pluto, and his gloomy bride. +</p> + +<p> +“Now swift I waved my falchion o’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> +“There wandering through the gloom I first survey’d,<br/> +New to the realms of death, Elpenor’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’d in woe,<br/> +And ere I spoke the tears began to flow. +</p> + +<p> +“‘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’d,<br/> +Outfly the nimble sail, and leave the lagging wind? +</p> + +<p> +“The ghost replied: ‘To hell my doom I owe,<br/> +Demons accursed, dire ministers of woe!<br/> +My feet, through wine unfaithful to their weight,<br/> +Betray’d me tumbling from a towery height:<br/> +Staggering I reel’d, and as I reel’d I fell,<br/> +Lux’d the neck-joint—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’s cares!<br/> +By loved Telemachus’ blooming years?<br/> +For well I know that soon the heavenly powers<br/> +Will give thee back to-day, and Circe’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“To whom with tears: ‘These rites, O mournful shade,<br/> +Due to thy ghost, shall to thy ghost be paid.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Still as I spoke the phantom seem’d to moan,<br/> +Tear follow’d tear, and groan succeeded groan.<br/> +But, as my waving sword the blood surrounds,<br/> +The shade withdrew, and mutter’d empty sounds. +</p> + +<p> +“There as the wondrous visions I survey’d,<br/> +All pale ascends my royal mother’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’er the blood,<br/> +Regardless of her son the parent stood. +</p> + +<p> +“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> +“‘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’s steadfast purpose, and thy future fates.’ +</p> + +<p> +“While yet he spoke, the prophet I obey’d,<br/> +And in the scabbard plunged the glittering blade:<br/> +Eager he quaff’d the gore, and then express’d<br/> +Dark things to come, the counsels of his breast. +</p> + +<p> +“Weary of light, Ulysses here explores<br/> +A prosperous voyage to his native shores;<br/> +But know—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’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’erwhelm’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’d!<br/> +That done, a people far from sea explore,<br/> +Who ne’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’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’d! +</p> + +<p> +“Unerring truths, O man, my lips relate;<br/> +This is thy life to come, and this is fate.’ +</p> + +<p> +“To whom unmoved: ‘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!’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘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’d with truth, return the sure reply;<br/> +The rest, repell’d, a train oblivious fly.’ +</p> + +<p> +“The phantom-prophet ceased, and sunk from sight,<br/> +To the black palace of eternal night. +</p> + +<p> +“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/> +‘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’d thee to the field,<br/> +Hast thou thy Ithaca, thy bride, beheld?’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Source of my life,’ I cried, ‘from earth I fly<br/> +To seek Tiresias in the nether sky,<br/> +To learn my doom; for, toss’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> +“‘But, when thy soul from her sweet mansion fled,<br/> +Say, what distemper gave thee to the dead?<br/> +Has life’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’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’er the wife prevails?’ +</p> + +<p> +“Thus I, and thus the parent-shade returns:<br/> +‘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’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> +“‘For thee, my son, I wept my life away;<br/> +For thee through hell’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Thrice in my arms I strove her shade to bind,<br/> +Thrice through my arms she slipp’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> +“‘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’s queen an empty image sent,<br/> +That wretched I might e’en my joys lament?’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘O son of woe,’ the pensive shade rejoin’d;<br/> +‘O most inured to grief of all mankind!<br/> +‘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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Thus while she spoke, in swarms hell’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’d along the gloom, withdrew;<br/> +Then shade to shade in mutual forms succeeds,<br/> +Her race recounts, and their illustrious deeds. +</p> + +<p> +“Tyro began, whom great Salmoneus bred;<br/> +The royal partner of famed Cretheus’ 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’d roves,<br/> +The monarch of the deep beholds and loves;<br/> +In her Enipeus’ form and borrow’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’d, he proves<br/> +The pleasing transport, and completes his loves.<br/> +Then, softly sighing, he the fair address’d,<br/> +And as he spoke her tender hand he press’d.<br/> +‘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’st! and at my nod<br/> +Earth trembles, and the waves confess their god.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He added not, but mounting spurn’d the plain,<br/> +Then plunged into the chambers of the main, +</p> + +<p> +“Now in the time’s full process forth she brings<br/> +Jove’s dread vicegerents in two future kings;<br/> +O’er proud Iolcos Pelias stretch’d his reign,<br/> +And godlike Neleus ruled the Pylian plain:<br/> +Then, fruitful, to her Cretheus’ 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> +“There moved Antiope, with haughty charms,<br/> +Who bless’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’d the war. +</p> + +<p> +“There with soft step the fair Alcmena trod,<br/> +Who bore Alcides to the thundering god:<br/> +And Megara, who charm’d the son of Jove,<br/> +And soften’d his stern soul to tender love. +</p> + +<p> +“Sullen and sour, with discontented mien,<br/> +Jocasta frown’d, the incestuous Theban queen;<br/> +With her own son she join’d in nuptial bands,<br/> +Though father’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’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> +“And now the beauteous Chloris I descry,<br/> +A lovely shade, Amphion’s youngest joy!<br/> +With gifts unnumber’d Neleus sought her arms,<br/> +Nor paid too dearly for unequall’d charms;<br/> +Great in Orchomenos, in Pylos great,<br/> +He sway’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’d in wrong;<br/> +Wild, furious herds, unconquerably strong!<br/> +This dares a seer, but nought the seer prevails,<br/> +In beauty’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> +“With graceful port advancing now I spied,<br/> +Leda the fair, the godlike Tyndar’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> +“There Ephimedia trod the gloomy plain,<br/> +Who charm’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’erburden’d groan’d beneath their weight,<br/> +None but Orion e’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’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’d; at once they sound,<br/> +And stretch the giant monsters o’er the ground. +</p> + +<p> +“There mournful Phaedra with sad Procris moves,<br/> +Both beauteous shades, both hapless in their loves;<br/> +And near them walk’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> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +He ceased; but left so charming on their ear<br/> +His voice, that listening still they seem’d to hear,<br/> +Till, rising up, Arete silence broke,<br/> +Stretch’d out her snowy hand, and thus she spoke: +</p> + +<p> +“What wondrous man heaven sends us in our guest;<br/> +Through all his woes the hero shines confess’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’d,<br/> +Give it to heaven by aiding the distress’d.” +</p> + +<p> +Then sage Echeneus, whose grave reverend brow<br/> +The hand of time had silvered o’er with snow,<br/> +Mature in wisdom rose: “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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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! ’Tis mine to lead the race,<br/> +The first in glory, as the first in place.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the prince: “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!” +</p> + +<p> +“O king! for such thou art, and sure thy blood<br/> +Through veins (he cried) of royal fathers flow’d:<br/> +Unlike those vagrants who on falsehood live,<br/> +Skill’d in smooth tales, and artful to deceive;<br/> +Thy better soul abhors the liar’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> +“But say, upon the dark and dismal coast,<br/> +Saw’st thou the worthies of the Grecian host?<br/> +The godlike leaders who, in battle slain,<br/> +Fell before Troy, and nobly press’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“O worthy of the power the gods assign’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> +“Now summon’d Proserpine to hell’s black hall<br/> +The heroine shades: they vanish’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’d the plain.<br/> +He quaff’d the gore; and straight his soldier knew,<br/> +And from his eyes pour’d down the tender dew:<br/> +His arms he stretch’d; his arms the touch deceive,<br/> +Nor in the fond embrace, embraces give:<br/> +His substance vanish’d, and his strength decay’d,<br/> +Now all Atrides is an empty shade. +</p> + +<p> +“Moved at the sight, I for a apace resign’d<br/> +To soft affliction all my manly mind;<br/> +At last with tears: ‘O what relentless doom,<br/> +Imperial phantom, bow’d thee to the tomb?<br/> +Say while the sea, and while the tempest raves,<br/> +Has Fate oppress’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?’ +</p> + +<p> +“The ghost returns: ‘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’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’d by a murderous hand Atrides died,<br/> +A foul adulterer, and a faithless bride;<br/> +E’en in my mirth, and at the friendly feast,<br/> +O’er the full bowl, the traitor stabb’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’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’d view’d<br/> +So vile a deed, so dire a scene of blood.<br/> +E’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’er the pavement floats the dreadful tide—<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’d adored!<br/> +Alas! I hoped the toils of war o’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Oh injured shade (I cried) what mighty woes<br/> +To thy imperial race from woman rose!<br/> +By woman here thou tread’st this mournful strand,<br/> +And Greece by woman lies a desert land.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Warn’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’d with a blaze of charms;<br/> +Thy infant son her fragrant bosom press’d,<br/> +Hung at her knee, or wanton’d at her breast;<br/> +But now the years a numerous train have ran;<br/> +The blooming boy is ripen’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’d father dies;<br/> +Then from a wretched friend this wisdom learn,<br/> +E’en to thy queen disguised, unknown, return;<br/> +For since of womankind so few are just,<br/> +Think all are false, nor e’en the faithful trust. +</p> + +<p> +“‘But, say, resides my son in royal port,<br/> +In rich Orchomenos, or Sparta’s court?<br/> +Or say in Pyle? for yet he views the light,<br/> +Nor glides a phantom through the realms of night.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Then I: ‘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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’ and Patroclus’ ghost,<br/> +A friendly pair! near these the Pylian stray’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> +“Through the thick gloom his friend Achilles knew,<br/> +And as he speaks the tears descend in dew. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Comest thou alive to view the Stygian bounds,<br/> +Where the wan spectres walk eternal rounds;<br/> +Nor fear’st the dark and dismal waste to tread,<br/> +Throng’d with pale ghosts, familiar with the dead?’ +</p> + +<p> +“To whom with sighs: ‘I pass these dreadful gates<br/> +To seek the Theban, and consult the Fates;<br/> +For still, distress’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’d as thine in all the rolls of fame;<br/> +Alive we hail’d thee with our guardian gods,<br/> +And dead thou rulest a king in these abodes.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Talk not of ruling in this dolorous gloom,<br/> +Nor think vain words (he cried) can ease my doom.<br/> +Rather I’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’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’d o’er the Phrygian plain,<br/> +And swell’d the ground with mountains of the slain,<br/> +Should vindicate my injured father’s fame,<br/> +Crush the proud rebel, and assert his claim.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Illustrious shade (I cried), of Peleus’ 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’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’d on heaps beneath his falchion groan’d,<br/> +And monuments of dead deform’d the ground.<br/> +The time would fail should I in order tell<br/> +What foes were vanquish’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> +“When Ilion in the horse received her doom,<br/> +And unseen armies ambush’d in its womb,<br/> +Greece gave her latent warriors to my care,<br/> +’Twas mine on Troy to pour the imprison’d war:<br/> +Then when the boldest bosom beat with fear,<br/> +When the stern eyes of heroes dropp’d a tear,<br/> +Fierce in his look his ardent valour glow’d,<br/> +Flush’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’d his sword, and shook his glittering spear.<br/> +And when the gods our arms with conquest crown’d,<br/> +When Troy’s proud bulwarks smoked upon the ground,<br/> +Greece, to reward her soldier’s gallant toils,<br/> +Heap’d high his navy with unnumber’d spoils. +</p> + +<p> +“Thus great in glory, from the din of war<br/> +Safe he return’d, without one hostile scar;<br/> +Though spears in iron tempests rain’d around,<br/> +Yet innocent they play’d, and guiltless of a wound.’ +</p> + +<p> +“While yet I spoke, the shade with transport glow’d,<br/> +Rose in his majesty, and nobler trod;<br/> +With haughty stalk he sought the distant glades<br/> +Of warrior kings, and join’d the illustrious shades. +</p> + +<p> +“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’s pride,<br/> +Our second hope to great Achilles, died!<br/> +Touch’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/> +‘Still burns thy rage? and can brave souls resent<br/> +E’en after death? Relent, great shade, relent!<br/> +Perish those arms which by the gods’ decree<br/> +Accursed our army with the loss of thee!<br/> +With thee we fall; Greece wept thy hapless fates,<br/> +And shook astonish’d through her hundred states;<br/> +Not more, when great Achilles press’d the ground,<br/> +And breathed his manly spirit through the wound.<br/> +O deem thy fall not owed to man’s decree,<br/> +Jove hated Greece, and punish’d Greece in thee!<br/> +Turn then; oh peaceful turn, thy wrath control,<br/> +And calm the raging tempest of thy soul.’ +</p> + +<p> +“While yet I speak, the shade disdains to stay,<br/> +In silence turns, and sullen stalks away. +</p> + +<p> +“Touch’d at his sour retreat, through deepest night,<br/> +Through hell’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’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> +“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’er the lawns of hell. +</p> + +<p> +“There Tityus large and long, in fetters bound,<br/> +O’erspreads nine acres of infernal ground;<br/> +Two ravenous vultures, furious for their food,<br/> +Scream o’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’er Panope’s enamell’d plains<br/> +Latona journey’d to the Pythian fanes,<br/> +With haughty love the audacious monster strove<br/> +To force the goddess, and to rival Jove. +</p> + +<p> +“There Tantalus along the Stygian bounds<br/> +Pours out deep groans (with groans all hell resounds);<br/> +E’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> +“I turn’d my eye, and as I turn’d survey’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> +“Now I the strength of Hercules behold,<br/> +A towering spectre of gigantic mould,<br/> +A shadowy form! for high in heaven’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’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> +“‘O exercise in grief! by arts refined;<br/> +O taught to bear the wrongs of base mankind!<br/> +Such, such was I! Still toss’d from care to care,<br/> +While in your world I drew the vital air!<br/> +E’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’d the three-mouth’d dog to upper day<br/> +E’en hell I conquer’d, through the friendly aid<br/> +Of Maia’s offspring, and the martial maid. +</p> + +<p> +“Thus he, nor deign’d for our reply to stay,<br/> +But, turning, stalk’d with giant-strides away. +</p> + +<p> +“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’d<br/> +The godlike Theseus, and Pirithous’ 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’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’d, and curls of hissing snakes,<br/> +Should fix me stiffen’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’er the waves we fly; the freshening gales<br/> +Sing through the shrouds, and stretch the swelling sails.” +</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"> +“Thus o’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’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> +“Soon as the morn restored the day, we paid<br/> +Sepulchral honours to Elpenor’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’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> +“Meantime the goddess our return survey’d<br/> +From the pale ghosts and hell’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> +“‘O sons of woe? decreed by adverse fates<br/> +Alive to pass through hell’s eternal gates!<br/> +All, soon or late, are doom’d that path to tread;<br/> +More wretched you! twice number’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’s dreary state.<br/> +She sat in silence while the tale I tell,<br/> +The wondrous visions and the laws of hell. +</p> + +<p> +“Then thus: ‘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> +“‘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’d against the song! ’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’d, and added band to band. +</p> + +<p> +“‘These seas o’erpass’d, be wise! but I refrain<br/> +To mark distinct thy voyage o’er the main:<br/> +New horrors rise! let prudence be thy guide,<br/> +And guard thy various passage through the tide. +</p> + +<p> +“‘High o’er the main two rocks exalt their brow,’<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’er that roaring surge its desperate way;<br/> +O’erwhelm’d it sinks: while round a smoke expires,<br/> +And the waves flashing seem to burn with fires.<br/> +Scarce the famed Argo pass’d these raging floods,<br/> +The sacred Argo, fill’d with demigods!<br/> +E’en she had sunk, but Jove’s imperial bride<br/> +Wing’d her fleet sail, and push’d her o’er the tide. +</p> + +<p> +“‘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’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’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’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’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’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> +“‘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’s green branches rise,<br/> +And shoot a leafy forest to the skies;<br/> +Beneath, Charybdis holds her boisterous reign<br/> +’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/> +’Tis better six to lose, than all to die.’ +</p> + +<p> +“I then: ‘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?’ +</p> + +<p> +“Then she: ‘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’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’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’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’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’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/> +’Tis thine alone (thy friends and navy lost)<br/> +Through tedious toils to view thy native coast.’ +</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’d the tall bark, and rush’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’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> +“‘O friends, oh ever partners of my woes,<br/> +Attend while I what Heaven foredooms disclose.<br/> +Hear all! Fate hangs o’er all; on you it lies<br/> +To live or perish! to be safe, be wise! +</p> + +<p> +“‘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’d, be added band to band.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’d the air and smooth’d the deep,<br/> +Hush’d the loud winds, and charm’d the waves to sleep.<br/> +Now every sail we furl, each oar we ply;<br/> +Lash’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’d;<br/> +The aërial region now grew warm with day,<br/> +The wax dissolved beneath the burning ray;<br/> +Then every ear I barr’d against the strain,<br/> +And from access of frenzy lock’d the brain.<br/> +Now round the masts my mates the fetters roll’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> +“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> +“‘Oh stay, O pride of Greece! Ulysses, stay!<br/> +Oh cease thy course, and listen to our lay!<br/> +Blest is the man ordain’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’er the kings of mighty name<br/> +Achieved at Ilion in the field of fame;<br/> +Whate’er beneath the sun’s bright journey lies.<br/> +Oh stay, and learn new wisdom from the wise!’ +</p> + +<p> +“Thus the sweet charmers warbled o’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’d ear unlock’d, the chains unbound. +</p> + +<p> +“Now all at once tremendous scenes unfold;<br/> +Thunder’d the deeps, the smoky billows roll’d!<br/> +Tumultuous waves embroil the bellowing flood,<br/> +All trembling, deafen’d, and aghast we stood!<br/> +No more the vessel plough’d the dreadful wave,<br/> +Fear seized the mighty, and unnerved the brave;<br/> +Each dropp’d his oar; but swift from man to man<br/> +With looks serene I turn’d, and thus began:<br/> +‘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’d—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’d around<br/> +We sink, beneath the circling eddy drown’d.’<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’d;<br/> +That dreadful sound had chill’d the boldest breast. +</p> + +<p> +“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’d;<br/> +In vain! the dismal dungeon, dark as night,<br/> +Veils the dire monster, and confounds the sight. +</p> + +<p> +“Now through the rocks, appall’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’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> +“Struck with despair, with trembling hearts we view’d<br/> +The yawning dungeon, and the tumbling flood;<br/> +When lo! fierce Scylla stoop’d to seize her prey,<br/> +Stretch’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’d arms implore;<br/> +In vain they call! those arms are stretch’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’d,<br/> +Never, I never scene so dire survey’d!<br/> +My shivering blood, congeal’d, forgot to flow;<br/> +Aghast I stood, a monument of woe! +</p> + +<p> +“Now from the rocks the rapid vessel flies,<br/> +And the hoarse din like distant thunder dies;<br/> +To Sol’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’d<br/> +The words of Circe and the Theban shade;<br/> +Warn’d by their awful voice these shores to shun,<br/> +With cautious fears oppress’d I thus begun: +</p> + +<p> +“‘O friends! O ever exercised in care!<br/> +Hear Heaven’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’d;<br/> +Some mighty woe relentless Heaven forebodes:<br/> +Fly these dire regions, and revere the gods!’ +</p> + +<p> +“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> +“‘O cruel thou! some Fury sure has steel’d<br/> +That stubborn soul, by toil untaught to yield!<br/> +From sleep debarr’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’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’d!<br/> +Haste ye to land! and when the morning ray<br/> +Sheds her bright beam, pursue the destined way.’<br/> +A sudden joy in every bosom rose:<br/> +So will’d some demon, minister of woes! +</p> + +<p> +“To whom with grief: ‘O swift to be undone!<br/> +Constrain’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Thus I: and while to shore the vessel flies,<br/> +With hands uplifted they attest the skies:<br/> +Then, where a fountain’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’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’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’d our bark, and moor’d it on the strand,<br/> +Where in a beauteous grotto’s cool recess<br/> +Dance the green Nereids of the neighbouring seas. +</p> + +<p> +“There while the wild winds whistled o’er the main,<br/> +Thus careful I address’d the listening train: +</p> + +<p> +“‘O friends, be wise! nor dare the flocks destroy<br/> +Of these fair pastures: if ye touch, ye die.<br/> +Warn’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’s unmeasured height.’ +</p> + +<p> +“And now the moon had run her monthly round,<br/> +The south-east blustering with a dreadful sound:<br/> +Unhurt the beeves, untouch’d the woolly train,<br/> +Low through the grove, or touch the flowery plain:<br/> +Then fail’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’d,<br/> +From the loud storms to find a sylvan shade;<br/> +There o’er my hands the living wave I pour;<br/> +And Heaven and Heaven’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’er my eyes the gods soft slumbers shed,<br/> +While thus Eurylochus arising said: +</p> + +<p> +“‘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’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Thus he: the beeves around securely stray,<br/> +When swift to ruin they invade the prey;<br/> +They seize, they kill!—but for the rite divine.<br/> +The barley fail’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> +“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’d o’er with morsels cut from every part.<br/> +Water, instead of wine, is brought in urns,<br/> +And pour’d profanely as the victim burns.<br/> +The thighs thus offer’d, and the entrails dress’d,<br/> +They roast the fragments, and prepare the feast. +</p> + +<p> +“‘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’er the coast and scents the tainted gales;<br/> +A chilly fear congeal’d my vital blood,<br/> +And thus, obtesting Heaven, I mourn’d aloud; +</p> + +<p> +“‘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!’ +</p> + +<p> +“Meantime Lampetie mounts the aërial way,<br/> +And kindles into rage the god of day; +</p> + +<p> +“‘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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“To whom the thundering Power: ‘O source of day<br/> +Whose radiant lamp adorns the azure way,<br/> +Still may thy beams through heaven’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“To fair Calypso, from the bright abodes,<br/> +Hermes convey’d these counsels of the gods. +</p> + +<p> +“Meantime from man to man my tongue exclaims,<br/> +My wrath is kindled, and my soul in flames.<br/> +In vain! I view perform’d the direful deed,<br/> +Beeves, slain in heaps, along the ocean bleed. +</p> + +<p> +“Now heaven gave signs of wrath: along the ground<br/> +Crept the raw hides, and with a bellowing sound<br/> +Roar’d the dead limbs; the burning entrails groan’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’d the rough storms; and calm’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’er our heads, and blackens heaven with storms.<br/> +Night dwells o’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’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’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’d in flames:<br/> +Full on the bark it fell; now high, now low,<br/> +Toss’d and retoss’d, it reel’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’d with dire noise, and dash’d the sides in twain;<br/> +Again impetuous drove the furious blast,<br/> +Snapp’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’d,<br/> +Through tumbling billows and a war of wind.<br/> +“Now sunk the west, and now a southern breeze,<br/> +More dreadful than the tempest lash’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’d,<br/> +And o’er the dungeon cast a dreadful shade;<br/> +All unsustain’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’d amidst the flashing main;<br/> +Once more undaunted on the ruin rode,<br/> +And oar’d with labouring arms along the flood.<br/> +Unseen I pass’d by Scylla’s dire abodes.<br/> +So Jove decreed (dread sire of men and gods).<br/> +Then nine long days I plow’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’s ever-fragrant bowers,<br/> +Refresh’d I lay, and joy beguiled the hours.<br/> +“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?” +</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’d to hear.<br/> +A pause of silence hush’d the shady rooms:<br/> +The grateful conference then the king resumes: +</p> + +<p> +“Whatever toils the great Ulysses pass’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’d (an honour due to age,<br/> +To cheer the grave, and warm the poet’s rage);<br/> +Though labour’d gold and many a dazzling vest<br/> +Lie heap’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.” +</p> + +<p> +This sentence pleased: then all their steps address’d<br/> +To separate mansions, and retired to rest. +</p> + +<p> +Now did the rosy-finger’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’d delight;<br/> +He sate, and eyed the sun, and wish’d the night;<br/> +Slow seem’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’d soil,<br/> +Sees with delight the sun’s declining ray,<br/> +When home with feeble knees he bends his way<br/> +To late repast (the day’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’d, and thus address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’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’d on virtue may your nation stand,<br/> +And public evil never touch the land!” +</p> + +<p> +His words well weigh’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/> +“Great Jove the Father first (he cried) implore;<br/> +Then send the stranger to his native shore.” +</p> + +<p> +The luscious wine the obedient herald brought;<br/> +Around the mansion flow’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’s hands;<br/> +Then thus: “O queen, farewell! be still possess’d<br/> +Of dear remembrance, blessing still and bless’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!” +</p> + +<p> +Thus he: then parting prints the sandy shore<br/> +To the fair port: a herald march’d before,<br/> +Sent by Alcinous; of Arete’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’d, for the hero’s bed.<br/> +He climbed the lofty stern; then gently press’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’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’d from his breast,<br/> +Wrapp’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’s emerging hills arise.<br/> +Far from the town a spacious port appears,<br/> +Sacred to Phorcys’ power, whose name it bears;<br/> +Two craggy rocks projecting to the main,<br/> +The roaring wind’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’s cool recess<br/> +Delights the Nereids of the neighbouring seas,<br/> +Where bowls and urns were form’d of living stone,<br/> +And massy beams in native marble shone,<br/> +On which the labours of the nymphs were roll’d,<br/> +Their webs divine of purple mix’d with gold.<br/> +Within the cave the clustering bees attend<br/> +Their waxen works, or from the roof depend.<br/> +Perpetual waters o’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’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’ gifts, they laid<br/> +In the wild olive’s unfrequented shade,<br/> +Secure from theft; then launch’d the bark again,<br/> +Resumed their oars, and measured back the main,<br/> +Nor yet forgot old Ocean’s dread supreme,<br/> +The vengeance vow’d for eyeless Polypheme.<br/> +Before the throne of mighty Jove he stood,<br/> +And sought the secret counsels of the god. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall then no more, O sire of gods! be mine<br/> +The rights and honours of a power divine?<br/> +Scorn’d e’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’d his shore;<br/> +To reach his natal shore was thy decree;<br/> +Mild I obey’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’s noble spoil.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the Father of the immortal powers,<br/> +Who swells the clouds, and gladdens earth with showers,<br/> +“Can mighty Neptune thus of man complain?<br/> +Neptune, tremendous o’er the boundless main!<br/> +Revered and awful e’en in heaven’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.”<br/> +He said. The shaker of the earth replies: +</p> + +<p> +“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.”—“We will it (Jove replies).<br/> +E’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!” +</p> + +<p> +With that the god whose earthquakes rock the ground<br/> +Fierce to Phæacia cross’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’d the sign. +</p> + +<p> +“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> +“The Fates have follow’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’er our city hang the dreadful hill.” +</p> + +<p> +The monarch spoke: they trembled and obey’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’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’d, another shore.<br/> +And long-continued ways, and winding floods,<br/> +And unknown mountains, crown’d with unknown woods<br/> +Pensive and slow, with sudden grief oppress’d,<br/> +The king arose, and beat his careful breast,<br/> +Cast a long look o’er all the coast and main,<br/> +And sought, around, his native realm in vain;<br/> +Then with erected eyes stood fix’d in woe,<br/> +And as he spoke, the tears began to flow. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye gods (he cried), upon what barren coast,<br/> +In what new region, is Ulysses toss’d?<br/> +Possess’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’ grace implore?<br/> +Ah, why forsake Phæacia’s happy shore?<br/> +Some juster prince perhaps had entertain’d,<br/> +And safe restored me to my native land.<br/> +Is this the promised, long-expected coast,<br/> +And this the faith Phæacia’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/> +’Tis his alone to avenge the wrongs I bear;<br/> +For still the oppress’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Then on the sands he ranged his wealthy store,<br/> +The gold, the vests, the tripods number’d o’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’d descended from some princely line.<br/> +A graceful robe her slender body dress’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: “Whoe’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’d to stray,<br/> +What air I breathe, what country I survey?<br/> +The fruitful continent’s extremest bound,<br/> +Or some fair isle which Neptune’s arms surround? +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’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’en to those shores is Ithaca renown’d,<br/> +Where Troy’s majestic ruins strew the ground.” +</p> + +<p> +At this, the chief with transport was possess’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> +“Oft have I heard in Crete this island’s name;<br/> +For ’twas from Crete, my native soil, I came,<br/> +Self-banished thence. I sail’d before the wind,<br/> +And left my children and my friends behind.<br/> +From fierce Idomeneus’ 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 ’scaped, and favour’d by the night,<br/> +In a Phoenician vessel took my flight,<br/> +For Pyle or Elis bound; but tempests toss’d<br/> +And raging billows drove us on your coast.<br/> +In dead of night an unknown port we gain’d;<br/> +Spent with fatigue, and slept secure on land.<br/> +But ere the rosy morn renew’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’d here, my fortune I deplore<br/> +A hapless exile on a foreign shore,” +</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’s heavenly daughter stood confess’d to sight;<br/> +Like a fair virgin in her beauty’s bloom,<br/> +Skill’d in the illustrious labours of the loom. +</p> + +<p> +“O still the same Ulysses! (she rejoin’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’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’d by thine.<br/> +Know’st thou not me; who made thy life my care,<br/> +Through ten years’ wandering, and through ten years’ 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’ 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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Goddess of wisdom! (Ithacus replies,)<br/> +He who discerns thee must be truly wise,<br/> +So seldom view’d and ever in disguise!<br/> +When the bold Argives led their warring powers,<br/> +Against proud Ilion’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’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus he. The blue-eyed goddess thus replies;<br/> +“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’ arms, and children’s dear embrace.<br/> +Not thus Ulysses; he decrees to prove<br/> +His subjects’ faith, and queen’s suspected love;<br/> +Who mourn’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 ’twas given thee to behold thy coast;<br/> +Yet how could I with adverse Fate engage,<br/> +And mighty Neptune’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’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +So spake the goddess; and the prospect clear’d,<br/> +The mists dispersed, and all the coast appeared.<br/> +The king with joy confess’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> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus then Minerva: “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.” She spoke, and trod<br/> +The shady grot, that brighten’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’s sacred shade,<br/> +Confer the hero and the martial maid.<br/> +The goddess of the azure eyes began:<br/> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +To this Ulysses: “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’d Troy’s heaven-built walls in fire.<br/> +Though leagued against me hundred heroes stand.<br/> +Hundreds shall fall, if Pallas aid my hand.” +</p> + +<p> +She answer’d: “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’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> +“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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +At this the father, with a father’s care:<br/> +“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’st not thou, O all-enlighten’d mind!<br/> +Inform him certain, and protect him, kind?” +</p> + +<p> +To whom Minerva: “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’d, and with honours graced,<br/> +But lo! an ambush waits his passage o’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.” +</p> + +<p> +She spake, then touch’d him with her powerful wand:<br/> +The skin shrunk up, and wither’d at her hand;<br/> +A swift old age o’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’s torn hide is lapp’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’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’er the mountains stray’d<br/> +Through mazy thickets of the woodland shade,<br/> +And cavern’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’d<br/> +Twelve ample cells, the lodgments of his herd.<br/> +Full fifty pregnant females each contain’d;<br/> +The males without (a smaller race) remain’d;<br/> +Doom’d to supply the suitors’ 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’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’d, while he furnish’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> +“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’s sorrows and my own.<br/> +While here (ungrateful task!) his herds I feed,<br/> +Ordain’d for lawless rioters to bleed!<br/> +Perhaps, supported at another’s board!<br/> +Far from his country roams my hapless lord;<br/> +Or sigh’d in exile forth his latest breath,<br/> +Now cover’d with the eternal shade of death! +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +He said, and, seconding the kind request,<br/> +With friendly step precedes his unknown guest.<br/> +A shaggy goat’s soft hide beneath him spread,<br/> +And with fresh rushes heap’d an ample bed;<br/> +Jove touch’d the hero’s tender soul, to find<br/> +So just reception from a heart so kind:<br/> +And “Oh, ye gods! with all your blessings grace<br/> +(He thus broke forth) this friend of human race!” +</p> + +<p> +The swain replied: “It never was our guise<br/> +To slight the poor, or aught humane despise:<br/> +For Jove unfolds our hospitable door,<br/> +’Tis Jove that sends the stranger and the poor,<br/> +Little, alas! is all the good I can<br/> +A man oppress’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’er his slave enjoys is owed,<br/> +And more, had Fate allow’d, had been bestow’d:<br/> +But Fate condemn’d him to a foreign shore;<br/> +Much have I sorrow’d, but my Master more.<br/> +Now cold he lies, to death’s embrace resign’d:<br/> +Ah, perish Helen! perish all her kind!<br/> +For whose cursed cause, in Agamemnon’s name,<br/> +He trod so fatally the paths of fame.” +</p> + +<p> +His vest succinct then girding round his waist,<br/> +Forth rush’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’d the spouting blood;<br/> +These quarter’d, singed, and fix’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’d<br/> +The ready meal, before Ulysses laid<br/> +With flour imbrown’d; next mingled wine yet new,<br/> +And luscious as the bees’ nectareous dew:<br/> +Then sate, companion of the friendly feast,<br/> +With open look; and thus bespoke his guest:<br/> +“Take with free welcome what our hands prepare,<br/> +Such food as falls to simple servants’ 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’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’en these, when of their ill-got spoils possess’d,<br/> +Find sure tormentors in the guilty breast:<br/> +Some voice of God close whispering from within,<br/> +‘Wretch! this is villainy, and this is sin.’<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’d this hero’s wealth, of all who reign<br/> +O’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’ breed<br/> +Twelve herds, twelve flocks, on ocean’s margin feed;<br/> +As many stalls for shaggy goats are rear’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’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’ wasteful board preferr’d.”<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’d,<br/> +And thus the kind inviting host address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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’d,<br/> +And now in honour’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’d)<br/> +Have wander’d many a sea, and many a land.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’d through the sky.<br/> +So perish’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’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’en in his absence I pronounce with fear:<br/> +In my respect, he bears a prince’s part;<br/> +But lives a very brother in my heart.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus spoke the faithful swain, and thus rejoin’d<br/> +The master of his grief, the man of patient mind:<br/> +“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’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> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’d, and he bless’d the land;<br/> +In all the youth his father’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’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?” +</p> + +<p> +Thus he: and thus (with prompt invention bold)<br/> +The cautious chief his ready story told. +</p> + +<p> +“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’s cheerful face?<br/> +Thus might we sit, with social goblets crown’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’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’d in his native shore;<br/> +Bless’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’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’s copious wealth supplied.<br/> +My valour was my plea, a gallant mind,<br/> +That, true to honour, never lagg’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’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’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’d)<br/> +The various thoughts and talents of mankind.<br/> +Before the Grecians touch’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’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’d; the tenth saw Ilion fall;<br/> +Homeward we sail’d, but heaven dispersed us all.<br/> +One only month my wife enjoy’d my stay;<br/> +So will’d the god who gives and takes away.<br/> +Nine ships I mann’d, equipp’d with ready stores,<br/> +Intent to voyage to the Ægyptian shores;<br/> +In feast and sacrifice my chosen train<br/> +Six days consum’d; the seventh we plough’d the main.<br/> +Crete’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’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’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’d on their side. Our guilty head<br/> +We turn’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’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’d the rage the vengeful foe express’d,<br/> +And turn’d the deadly weapons from my breast.<br/> +Pious! to guard the hospitable rite,<br/> +And fearing Jove, whom mercy’s works delight. +</p> + +<p> +“In Ægypt thus with peace and plenty bless’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’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’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’d high Jove due vengeance to prepare.<br/> +He hung a night of horrors o’er their head<br/> +(The shaded ocean blacken’d as it spread):<br/> +He launch’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’d,<br/> +And all in clouds of smothering sulphur lost.<br/> +As from a hanging rock’s tremendous height,<br/> +The sable crows with intercepted flight<br/> +Drop endlong; scarr’d, and black with sulphurous hue,<br/> +So from the deck are hurl’d the ghastly crew.<br/> +Such end the wicked found! but Jove’s intent<br/> +Was yet to save the oppress’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’er,<br/> +The tenth soft wafts me to Thesprotia’s shore.<br/> +The monarch’s son a shipwreck’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’d, oft I heard the fame<br/> +How late Ulysses to the country came.<br/> +How loved, how honour’d in this court he stay’d,<br/> +And here his whole collected treasure laid;<br/> +I saw myself the vast unnumber’d store<br/> +Of steel elaborate, and refulgent ore,<br/> +And brass high heap’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’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’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’d me from his shores,<br/> +For fair Dulichium crown’d with fruitful stores;<br/> +To good Acastus’ friendly care consign’d:<br/> +But other counsels pleased the sailors’ 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’d rags they wrapp’d me round<br/> +(Stripp’d of my own), and to the vessel bound.<br/> +At eve, at Ithaca’s delightful land<br/> +The ship arriv’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’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’d;<br/> +But deem’d inquiry vain, and to their ships return’d.<br/> +Screen’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Unhappy guest! whose sorrows touch my mind!<br/> +(Thus good Eumaeus with a sigh rejoin’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’d on some well-fought day,<br/> +Or in his friend’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’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’d; but chief<br/> +By one Aetolian robb’d of all belief,<br/> +Whose hap it was to this our roof to roam,<br/> +For murder banish’d from his native home.<br/> +He swore, Ulysses on the coast of Crete<br/> +Stay’d but a season to refit his fleet;<br/> +A few revolving months should waft him o’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’d,<br/> +I stain’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—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.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus communed these; while to their lowly dome<br/> +The full-fed swine return’d with evening home;<br/> +Compell’d, reluctant, to their several sties,<br/> +With din obstreperous, and ungrateful cries.<br/> +Then to the slaves: “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.” +</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’ 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’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’s board;<br/> +The faithful servant joy’d his unknown lord.<br/> +“Oh be thou dear (Ulysses cried) to Jove,<br/> +As well thou claim’st a grateful stranger’s love!” +</p> + +<p> +“Be then thy thanks (the bounteous swain replied)<br/> +Enjoyment of the good the gods provide.<br/> +From God’s own hand descend our joys and woes;<br/> +These he decrees, and he but suffers those:<br/> +All power is his, and whatsoe’er he wills,<br/> +The will itself, omnipotent, fulfils.”<br/> +This said, the first-fruits to the gods he gave;<br/> +Then pour’d of offer’d wine the sable wave:<br/> +In great Ulysses’ hand he placed the bowl,<br/> +He sate, and sweet refection cheer’d his soul.<br/> +The bread from canisters Mesaulius gave<br/> +(Eumaeus’ 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’d,<br/> +And each betakes him to his couch to rest. +</p> + +<p> +Now came the night, and darkness cover’d o’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/> +“Hear me, my friends! who this good banquet grace;<br/> +’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’d a share of praise.<br/> +Ulysses, Menelaus, led forth a band,<br/> +And join’d me with them (’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’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’d Ulysses, who was laid<br/> +Fast by my side, and shivering thus I said: +</p> + +<p> +“‘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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“He thought and answer’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/> +‘Hush thee (he cried, soft whispering in my ear),<br/> +Speak not a word, lest any Greek may hear’—<br/> +And then (supporting on his arm his head),<br/> +‘Hear me, companions! (thus aloud he said:)<br/> +Methinks too distant from the fleet we lie:<br/> +E’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Up started Thoas straight, Andraemon’s son,<br/> +Nimbly he rose, and cast his garment down!<br/> +Instant, the racer vanish’d off the ground;<br/> +That instant in his cloak I wrapp’d me round:<br/> +And safe I slept, till brightly-dawning shone<br/> +The morn conspicuous on her golden throne. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh were my strength as then, as then my age!<br/> +Some friend would fence me from the winter’s rage.<br/> +Yet, tatter’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—but I am nothing now!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well hast thou spoke (rejoin’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’d, the good Ulysses’ son<br/> +With better hand shall grace with fit attires<br/> +His guest, and send thee where thy soul desires.” +</p> + +<p> +The honest herdsman rose, as this he said,<br/> +And drew before the hearth the stranger’s bed;<br/> +The fleecy spoils of sheep, a goat’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’d, and fenced against nocturnal air:<br/> +His weighty falchion o’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’d from Boreas, high o’erarch’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’d those ample plains,<br/> +Famed for the dance, where Menelaus reigns:<br/> +Anxious she flies to great Ulysses’ heir,<br/> +His instant voyage challenged all her care.<br/> +Beneath the royal portico display’d,<br/> +With Nestor’s son Telemachus was laid:<br/> +In sleep profound the son of Nestor lies;<br/> +Not thine, Ulysses! Care unseal’d his eyes:<br/> +Restless he grieved, with various fears oppress’d,<br/> +And all thy fortunes roll’d within his breast.<br/> +When, “O Telemachus! (the goddess said)<br/> +Too long in vain, too widely hast thou stray’d,<br/> +Thus leaving careless thy paternal right<br/> +The robbers’ prize, the prey to lawless might.<br/> +On fond pursuits neglectful while you roam,<br/> +E’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’s wishes, and her sire’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’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’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’ 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!—sooner far their riot and their lust<br/> +All-covering earth shall bury deep in dust!<br/> +Then distant from the scatter’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’d-for news,<br/> +That thou, safe sailing from the Pylian strand,<br/> +Art come to bless her in thy native land.”<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> +“Rise, son of Nestor; for the road prepare,<br/> +And join the harness’d coursers to the car.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus he. But when the dawn bestreak’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’er his ample shoulders whirl’d the cloak,<br/> +Respectful met the monarch, and bespoke: +</p> + +<p> +“Hail, great Atrides, favour’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’s laws are by this rule express’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’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’ 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’d mules we shall receive,<br/> +Or bowl emboss’d whose golden figures live.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the youth, for prudence famed, replied:<br/> +“O monarch, care of heaven! thy people’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.” +</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’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’d dyes,<br/> +And chose the largest; with no vulgar art<br/> +Her own fair hands embroider’d every part;<br/> +Beneath the rest it lay divinely bright,<br/> +Like radiant Hesper o’er the gems of night,<br/> +Then with each gift they hasten’d to their guest,<br/> +And thus the king Ulysses’ heir address’d:<br/> +“Since fix’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’s hospitable monarch came;<br/> +To thee we now consign the precious load,<br/> +The pride of kings, and labour of a god.” +</p> + +<p> +Then gave the cup, while Megapenthe brought<br/> +The silver vase with living sculpture wrought.<br/> +The beauteous queen, advancing next, display’d<br/> +The shining veil, and thus endearing said: +</p> + +<p> +“Accept, dear youth, this monument of love,<br/> +Long since, in better days, by Helen wove:<br/> +Safe in thy mother’s care the vesture lay,<br/> +To deck thy bride and grace thy nuptial day.<br/> +Meantime may’st thou with happiest speed regain<br/> +Thy stately palace, and thy wide domain.” +</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’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’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’ 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’ son, with his illustrious friend,<br/> +The horses join, the polish’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’d with prayers, he utters these commands: +</p> + +<p> +“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’ war.”<br/> +“Ah! doubt not our report (the prince rejoin’d)<br/> +Of all the virtues of thy generous mind.<br/> +And oh! return’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!” +</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’d every breast with wonder and delight. +</p> + +<p> +But Nestor’s son the cheerful silence broke,<br/> +And in these words the Spartan chief bespoke:<br/> +“Say if to us the gods these omens send,<br/> +Or fates peculiar to thyself portend?” +</p> + +<p> +Whilst yet the monarch paused, with doubts oppress’d<br/> +The beauteous queen relieved his labouring breast:<br/> +“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’s brow his callow care,<br/> +And wander’d through the wide ethereal way<br/> +To pour his wrath on yon luxurious prey;<br/> +So shall thy godlike father, toss’d in vain<br/> +Through all the dangers of the boundless main,<br/> +Arrive (or if perchance already come)<br/> +From slaughter’d gluttons to release the dome.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! if this promised bliss by thundering Jove<br/> +(The prince replied) stand fix’d in fate above;<br/> +To thee, as to some god, I’ll temples raise.<br/> +And crown thy altars with the costly blaze.” +</p> + +<p> +He said; and bending o’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’ heir;<br/> +With him all night the youthful stranger stay’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’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’s heir Ulysses’ godlike son: +</p> + +<p> +“Let not Pisistratus in vain be press’d,<br/> +Nor unconsenting hear his friend’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’d kindness urged in vain.” +</p> + +<p> +The hero paused, and ponder’d this request,<br/> +While love and duty warr’d within his breast.<br/> +At length resolved, he turn’d his ready hand,<br/> +And lash’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/> +“With speed begone (said he); call every mate,<br/> +Ere yet to Nestor I the tale relate:<br/> +’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!”<br/> +This said, the sounding strokes his horses fire,<br/> +And soon he reached the palace of his sire. +</p> + +<p> +“Now (cried Telemachus) with speedy care<br/> +Hoist every sail, and every oar prepare.”<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’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’d in Philacus’s chains:<br/> +Meantime, what anguish and what rage combined<br/> +For lovely Pero rack’d his labouring mind!<br/> +Yet ’scaped he death; and vengeful of his wrong<br/> +To Pylos drove the lowing herds along:<br/> +Then (Neleus vanquish’d, and consign’d the fair<br/> +To Bias’ arms) he so sought a foreign air;<br/> +Argos the rich for his retreat he chose,<br/> +There form’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’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’s love<br/> +Snatch’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’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’d<br/> +His ardent vows, the stranger thus address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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’s demand<br/> +Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +The stranger then: “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’d exile, ever doom’d to roam.<br/> +But bear, oh bear me o’er yon azure flood;<br/> +Receive the suppliant! spare my destined blood!” +</p> + +<p> +“Stranger (replied the prince) securely rest<br/> +Affianced in our faith; henceforth our guest.”<br/> +Thus affable, Ulysses’ godlike heir<br/> +Takes from the stranger’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’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’er the sea.<br/> +Crunus they pass’d, next Chalcis roll’d away,<br/> +With thickening darkness closed the doubtful day;<br/> +The silver Phaea’s glittering rills they lost,<br/> +And skimm’d along by Elis’ sacred coast.<br/> +Then cautious through the rocky reaches wind,<br/> +And turning sudden, shun the death design’d. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime, the king, Eumaeus, and the rest,<br/> +Sate in the cottage, at their rural feast:<br/> +The banquet pass’d, and satiate every man,<br/> +To try his host, Ulysses thus began: +</p> + +<p> +“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’ roof I may relate<br/> +Ulysses’ wanderings to his royal mate;<br/> +Or, mingling with the suitors’ 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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! (Eumaeus with a sigh rejoin’d).<br/> +How sprung a thought so monstrous in thy mind?<br/> +If on that godless race thou would’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’d,<br/> +With earth’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.” +</p> + +<p> +To him the man of woes; “O gracious Jove!<br/> +Reward this stranger’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’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?” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the swain: “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’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’er with grief.<br/> +Her pleasing converse minister’d relief:<br/> +With Climene, her youngest daughter, bred,<br/> +One roof contain’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’ isle she sent the wedded fair;<br/> +Me to the fields; to tend the rural care;<br/> +Array’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +The suffering chief at this began to melt;<br/> +And, “O Eumaeus! thou (he cries) hast felt<br/> +The spite of fortune too! her cruel hand<br/> +Snatch’d thee an infant from thy native land!<br/> +Snatch’d from thy parents’ arms, thy parents’ 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’d thee o’er the main?<br/> +Doom’d a fair prize to grace some prince’s board,<br/> +The worthy purchase of a foreign lord.” +</p> + +<p> +“If then my fortunes can delight my friend,<br/> +A story fruitful of events attend:<br/> +Another’s sorrow may thy ears enjoy,<br/> +And wine the lengthen’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’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’d:<br/> +For he who much has suffer’d, much will know,<br/> +And pleased remembrance builds delight on woe. +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’d in our port;<br/> +What time it chanced the palace entertain’d,<br/> +Skill’d in rich works, a woman of their land:<br/> +This nymph, where anchor’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/> +‘I too (she cried) from glorious Sidon came,<br/> +My father Arybas, of wealthy fame:<br/> +But, snatch’d by pirates from my native place,<br/> +The Taphians sold me to this man’s embrace.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Haste then (the false designing youth replied),<br/> +Haste to thy country; love shall be thy guide;<br/> +Haste to thy father’s house, thy father’s breast,<br/> +For still he lives, and lives with riches blest.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Swear first (she cried), ye sailors! to restore<br/> +A wretch in safety to her native shore.’<br/> +Swift as she ask’d, the ready sailors swore.<br/> +She then proceeds: ‘Now let our compact made<br/> +Be nor by signal nor by word betray’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’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’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’ll lead away<br/> +(A noble prize!) and to your ship convey.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’d, smiling, innocent of harm.<br/> +Three golden goblets in the porch she found<br/> +(The guests not enter’d, but the table crown’d);<br/> +Hid in her fraudful bosom these she bore:<br/> +Now set the sun, and darken’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’d by Diana’s vengeful arrow, died.<br/> +Down dropp’d the caitiff-corse, a worthless load,<br/> +Down to the deep; there roll’d, the future food<br/> +Of fierce sea-wolves, and monsters of the flood.<br/> +An helpless infant I remain’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.” +</p> + +<p> +To him the king: “Reciting thus thy cares,<br/> +My secret soul in all thy sorrow shares;<br/> +But one choice blessing (such is Jove’s high will)<br/> +Has sweeten’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.” +</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’d the land;<br/> +Their sails they loosed, they lash’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’er the rosy wine.<br/> +When thus the prince: “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.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Theoclymenus: “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?” +</p> + +<p> +The prince return’d: “Renown’d in days of yore<br/> +Has stood our father’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’s face;<br/> +From noiseful revel far remote she flies,<br/> +But rarely seen, or seen with weeping eyes.<br/> +No—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’s fame,<br/> +With what success, ’tis Jove’s alone to know,<br/> +And the hoped nuptials turn to joy or woe.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus speaking, on the right up-soar’d in air<br/> +The hawk, Apollo’s swift-wing’d messenger:<br/> +His dreadful pounces tore a trembling dove;<br/> +The clotted feathers, scatter’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/> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Succeed the omens, gods! (the youth rejoin’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.”<br/> +Then to Peiraeus: “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.” +</p> + +<p> +To this Peiraeus: “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.” +</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’s view<br/> +Swift to the town the well-row’d galley flew:<br/> +The hero trod the margin of the main,<br/> +And reach’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’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’s near approach the dogs descry,<br/> +And fawning round his feet confess their joy.<br/> +Their gentle blandishment the king survey’d,<br/> +Heard his resounding step, and instant said: +</p> + +<p> +“Some well-known friend, Eumaeus, bends this way;<br/> +His steps I hear; the dogs familiar play.” +</p> + +<p> +While yet he spoke, the prince advancing drew<br/> +Nigh to the lodge, and now appear’d in view.<br/> +Transported from his seat Eumaeus sprung,<br/> +Dropp’d the full bowl, and round his bosom hung;<br/> +Kissing his cheek, his hand, while from his eye<br/> +The tears rain’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> +“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’er the waves you plough’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,”<br/> +The prince replied: “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?” +</p> + +<p> +Thus he; and thus the monarch of the swains:<br/> +“Severely chaste Penelope remains;<br/> +But, lost to every joy, she wastes the day<br/> +In tedious cares, and weeps the night away.” +</p> + +<p> +He ended, and (receiving as they pass<br/> +The javelin pointed with a star of brass),<br/> +They reach’d the dome; the dome with marble shined.<br/> +His seat Ulysses to the prince resign’d.<br/> +“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.”<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’d the shining canisters with bread.<br/> +Thick o’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> +“Whence, father, from what shore this stranger, say?<br/> +What vessel bore him o’er the watery way?<br/> +To human step our land impervious lies,<br/> +And round the coast circumfluent oceans rise.” +</p> + +<p> +The swain returns: “A tale of sorrows hear:<br/> +In spacious Crete he drew his natal air;<br/> +Long doom’d to wander o’er the land and main,<br/> +For Heaven has wove his thread of life with pain.<br/> +Half breathless ’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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/> +’Midst the swell’d insolence of lust and pride?<br/> +E’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/> +’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’ wrongs,<br/> +And the rude insults of ungovern’d tongues.<br/> +For should’st thou suffer, powerless to relieve,<br/> +I must behold it, and can only grieve.<br/> +The brave, encompass’d by an hostile train,<br/> +O’erpower’d by numbers, is but brave in vain.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom, while anger in his bosom glows,<br/> +With warmth replies the man of mighty woes:<br/> +“Since audience mild is deign’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’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’d mean deserters in the needful hour?<br/> +Oh that I were from great Ulysses sprung,<br/> +Or that these wither’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’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’s revel, and the gluttons’ feast.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus he, with anger flashing from his eye;<br/> +Sincere the youthful hero made reply:<br/> +“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’d mean deserters in the needful hour.<br/> +Ah me! I boast no brother; heaven’s dread King<br/> +Gives from our stock an only branch to spring:<br/> +Alone Laertes reign’d Arcesius’ heir,<br/> +Alone Ulysses drew the vital air,<br/> +And I alone the bed connubial graced,<br/> +An unbless’d offspring of a sire unbless’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’d with shady hills.<br/> +E’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’d I bear;<br/> +E’en now they envy me the vital air:<br/> +But Heaven will sure revenge, and gods there are. +</p> + +<p> +“But go Eumaeus! to the queen impart<br/> +Our safe return, and ease a mother’s heart.<br/> +Yet secret go; for numerous are my foes,<br/> +And here at least I may in peace repose.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the swain: “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’d the vine, and bade the garden blow,<br/> +Nor food nor wine refused; but since the day<br/> +That you to Pylos plough’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wretched old man! (with tears the prince returns)<br/> +Yet cease to go—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.” +</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’s bloom,<br/> +Skill’d in the illustrious labours of the loom.<br/> +Alone to Ithaca she stood display’d,<br/> +But unapparent as a viewless shade<br/> +Escaped Telemachus (the powers above,<br/> +Seen or unseen, o’er earth at pleasure move):<br/> +The dogs intelligent confess’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> +“Then why (she said), O favour’d of the skies!<br/> +Why to thy godlike son this long disguise?<br/> +Stand forth reveal’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.” +</p> + +<p> +She said, and o’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’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’erawed<br/> +Scarce lifts his eyes, and bows as to a god,<br/> +Then with surprise (surprise chastised by fears):<br/> +“How art thou changed! (he cried)—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’d gold adorn thy shrine,<br/> +To win thy grace: O save us, power divine!” +</p> + +<p> +“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’d,<br/> +And outraged by the wrongs of base mankind.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, rushing to his arms, he kiss’d his boy<br/> +With the strong raptures of a parent’s joy.<br/> +Tears bathe his cheek, and tears the ground bedew:<br/> +He strain’d him close, as to his breast he grew.<br/> +“Ah me! (exclaims the prince with fond desire)<br/> +Thou art not—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’d age a youthful bloom!<br/> +Late, worn with years, in weeds obscene you trod;<br/> +Now, clothed in majesty, you move a god!” +</p> + +<p> +“Forbear (he cried,) for Heaven reserve that name;<br/> +Give to thy father but a father’s claim;<br/> +Other Ulysses shalt thou never see,<br/> +I am Ulysses, I, my son, am he.<br/> +Twice ten sad years o’er earth and ocean toss’d,<br/> +’Tis given at length to view my native coast.<br/> +Pallas, unconquer’d maid, my frame surrounds<br/> +With grace divine: her power admits no bounds;<br/> +She o’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.” +</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’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’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’d with the setting sun;<br/> +But checking the full torrent in its flow,<br/> +The prince thus interrupts the solemn woe.<br/> +“What ship transported thee, O father, say;<br/> +And what bless’d hands have oar’d thee on the way?” +</p> + +<p> +“All, all (Ulysses instant made reply),<br/> +I tell thee all, my child, my only joy!<br/> +Phæacians bore me to the port assign’d,<br/> +A nation ever to the stranger kind;<br/> +Wrapp’d in the embrace of sleep, the faithful train<br/> +O’er seas convey’d me to my native reign:<br/> +Embroider’d vestures, gold, and brass, are laid<br/> +Conceal’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—but thou, my son, explain<br/> +The names and numbers of the audacious train;<br/> +’Tis mine to judge if better to employ<br/> +Assistant force, or singly to destroy.” +</p> + +<p> +“O’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’ coast:<br/> +And twelve our country’s pride; to these belong<br/> +Medon and Phemius, skill’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mark well my voice, (Ulysses straight replies:)<br/> +What need of aids, if favour’d by the skies?<br/> +If shielded to the dreadful fight we move,<br/> +By mighty Pallas, and by thundering Jove?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sufficient they (Telemachus rejoin’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’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’s call,<br/> +And vengeance strikes whom Heaven has doom’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> +“‘These glittering weapons, ere he sail’d to Troy,<br/> +Ulysses view’d with stern heroic joy:<br/> +Then, beaming o’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.’ +</p> + +<p> +“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’d in thy bosom from the household train;<br/> +Hide it from all; e’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.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the youth: “To emulate, I aim,<br/> +The brave and wise, and my great father’s fame.<br/> +But reconsider, since the wisest err,<br/> +Vengeance resolved, ’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.” +</p> + +<p> +While in debate they waste the hours away,<br/> +The associates of the prince repass’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’s return, and ease a parent’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, “Thy son, O queen, returns;”<br/> +Eumaeus sage approach’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’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: “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’d friends the news convey!” +</p> + +<p> +Scarce had he spake, when, turning to the strand,<br/> +Amphinomus survey’d the associate band;<br/> +Full to the bay within the winding shores<br/> +With gather’d sails they stood, and lifted oars.<br/> +“O friends!” he cried, elate with rising joy,<br/> +“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.” +</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’d a dire debate. +</p> + +<p> +“Lives then the boy? he lives (Antinous cries),<br/> +The care of gods and favourite of the skies.<br/> +All night we watch’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’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’d we’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Abash’d, the suitor train his voice attends;<br/> +Till from his throne Amphinomus ascends,<br/> +Who o’er Dulichium stretch’d his spacious reign,<br/> +A land of plenty, bless’d with every grain:<br/> +Chief of the numbers who the queen address’d,<br/> +And though displeasing, yet displeasing least.<br/> +Soft were his words; his actions wisdom sway’d;<br/> +Graceful awhile he paused, then mildly said: +</p> + +<p> +“O friends, forbear! and be the thought withstood:<br/> +’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’en by this hand he dies;<br/> +If they forbid, I war not with the skies.” +</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’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> +“O void of faith! of all bad men the worst!<br/> +Renown’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’s shores;<br/> +Enraged, his life, his treasures they demand;<br/> +Ulysses saved him from the avenger’s hand.<br/> +And would’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!—but cease, ’tis I command.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’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.” +</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’d with the dear remembrance of her lord:<br/> +Nor ceased till Pallas bids her sorrows fly,<br/> +And in soft slumber seal’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’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’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: “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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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’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.” +</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’d sandals shine,<br/> +And thus he greets the master of the swine: +</p> + +<p> +“My friend, adieu! let this short stay suffice;<br/> +I haste to meet my mother’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’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?” +</p> + +<p> +To this Ulysses: “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’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’ space permit me here to stay:<br/> +My steps Eumaeus shall to town convey,<br/> +With riper beams when Phœbus warms the day.” +</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’ sudden fate,<br/> +Arriving now before the imperial hall,<br/> +He props his spear against the pillar’d wall;<br/> +Then like a lion o’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’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’d with coy Diana’s pensive air);<br/> +Hangs o’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> +“Light of my eyes: he comes! unhoped-for joy!<br/> +Has Heaven from Pylos brought my lovely boy?<br/> +So snatch’d from all our cares!—Tell, hast thou known<br/> +Thy father’s fate, and tell me all thy own.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’ honour’d charge consign’d.” +</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’d hecatombs to bleed,<br/> +And call’d Jove’s vengeance on the guilty deed,<br/> +Arm’d with his lance, the prince then pass’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’d on, and sate by faithful Mentor’s side;<br/> +With Antiphus, and Halitherses sage<br/> +(His father’s counsellors, revered for age).<br/> +Of his own fortunes, and Ulysses’ fame,<br/> +Much ask’d the seniors; till Peiraeus came.<br/> +The stranger-guest pursued him close behind;<br/> +Whom when Telemachus beheld, he join’d.<br/> +He (when Peiraeus ask’d for slaves to bring<br/> +The gifts and treasures of the Spartan king)<br/> +Thus thoughtful answer’d: “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’d in his palace if your prince must fall,<br/> +Us, and our house, if treason must o’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.”—The hero said,<br/> +And in his hand the willing stranger led.<br/> +Then disarray’d, the shining bath they sought<br/> +(With unguents smooth) of polish’d marble wrought:<br/> +Obedient handmaids with assistant toil<br/> +Supply the limpid wave, and fragrant oil:<br/> +Then o’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’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: “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’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?” +</p> + +<p> +To her the youth. “We reach’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’ 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’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’d;<br/> +And still his words live perfect in my mind: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Heavens! would a soft, inglorious, dastard train<br/> +An absent hero’s nuptial joys profane<br/> +So with her young, amid the woodland shades,<br/> +A timorous hind the lion’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’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’d,<br/> +And loud acclaiming Greeks the victor bless’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’d by the main,<br/> +The sad survivor of his numerous train,<br/> +Ulysses lies; detain’d by magic charms,<br/> +And press’d unwilling in Calypso’s arms.<br/> +No sailors there, no vessels to convey,<br/> +No oars to cut the immeasurable way.’<br/> +This told Atrides, and he told no more.<br/> +Then safe I voyaged to my native shore.” +</p> + +<p> +He ceased; nor made the pensive queen reply,<br/> +But droop’d her head, and drew a secret sigh.<br/> +When Theoclymenus the seer began:<br/> +“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’en now, this instant, great Ulysses, laid<br/> +At rest, or wandering in his country’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’d,<br/> +When first our vessel anchor’d in your road.”<br/> +“Succeed those omens, Heaven! (the queen rejoin’d)<br/> +So shall our bounties speak a grateful mind;<br/> +And every envied happiness attend<br/> +The man who calls Penelope his friend.”<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’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’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/> +“To town, observant of our lord’s behest,<br/> +Now let us speed; my friend no more my guest!<br/> +Yet like myself I wish thee here preferr’d,<br/> +Guard of the flock, or keeper of the herd,<br/> +But much to raise my master’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’d,<br/> +Or ere brown evening spreads her chilly shade.”<br/> +“Just thy advice (the prudent chief rejoin’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.”<br/> +Across his shoulders then the scrip he flung,<br/> +Wide-patch’d, and fasten’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’s eyes,<br/> +Alas! how changed! a man of miseries;<br/> +Propp’d on a staff, a beggar old and bare<br/> +In rags dishonest fluttering with the air!<br/> +Now pass’d the rugged road, they journey down<br/> +The cavern’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’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’d to the nymphs, is seen<br/> +A mossy altar, deep embower’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’d to sacred fame,<br/> +But pamper’d luxury) Melanthius came:<br/> +Two grooms attend him. With an envious look<br/> +He eyed the stranger, and imperious spoke: +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’s gate repulsed with scorn:<br/> +To no brave prize aspired the worthless swain,<br/> +’Twas but for scraps he ask’d, and ask’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.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: nor insolent of word alone,<br/> +Spurn’d with his rustic heel his king unknown;<br/> +Spurn’d, but not moved: he like a pillar stood,<br/> +Nor stirr’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’d, and endured.<br/> +But hateful of the wretch, Eumaeus heaved<br/> +His hands obtesting, and this prayer conceived:<br/> +“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’ piety preferr’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“What mutters he? (Melanthius sharp rejoins;)<br/> +This crafty miscreant, big with dark designs?<br/> +The day shall come—nay, ’tis already near—<br/> +When, slave! to sell thee at a price too dear<br/> +Must be my care; and hence transport thee o’er,<br/> +A load and scandal to this happy shore.<br/> +Oh! that as surely great Apollo’s dart,<br/> +Or some brave suitor’s sword, might pierce the heart<br/> +Of the proud son; as that we stand this hour<br/> +In lasting safety from the father’s power!” +</p> + +<p> +So spoke the wretch, but, shunning farther fray,<br/> +Turn’d his proud step, and left them on their way.<br/> +Straight to the feastful palace he repair’d,<br/> +Familiar enter’d, and the banquet shared;<br/> +Beneath Eurymachus, his patron lord,<br/> +He took his place, and plenty heap’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’d, then address’d the swain: +</p> + +<p> +“Well may this palace admiration claim,<br/> +Great and respondent to the master’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’d assembly and the feast of joy:<br/> +I see the smokes of sacrifice aspire,<br/> +And hear (what graces every feast) the lyre.” +</p> + +<p> +Then thus Eumaeus: “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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just is, O friend! thy caution, and address’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’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’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!” +</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’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’d him o’er the main.<br/> +Till then in every sylvan chase renown’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’er the lawn.<br/> +Now left to man’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’d the mighty master’s soul;<br/> +Adown his cheek a tear unbidden stole,<br/> +Stole unperceived: he turn’d his head and dried<br/> +The drop humane: then thus impassion’d cried: +</p> + +<p> +“What noble beast in this abandon’d state<br/> +Lies here all helpless at Ulysses’ 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’d by their friends, the great.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not Argus so, (Eumaeus thus rejoin’d,)<br/> +But served a master of a nobler kind,<br/> +Who, never, never shall behold him more!<br/> +Long, long since perish’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 ’scaped him bosom’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’d it certain, that whatever day<br/> +Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away.” +</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’d,<br/> +Takes a last look, and having seen him, dies;<br/> +So closed for ever faithful Argus’ 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’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’d on a staff, and trembling as he went.<br/> +Then, resting on the threshold of the gate,<br/> +Against a cypress pillar lean’d his weight<br/> +Smooth’d by the workman to a polish’d plane);<br/> +The thoughtful son beheld, and call’d his swain +</p> + +<p> +“These viands, and this bread, Eumaeus! bear,<br/> +And let yon mendicant our plenty share:<br/> +And let him circle round the suitors’ 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!” +</p> + +<p> +His lord’s command the faithful servant bears:<br/> +The seeming beggar answers with his prayers:<br/> +“Bless’d be Telemachus! in every deed<br/> +Inspire him. Jove! in every wish succeed!”<br/> +This said, the portion from his son convey’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’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’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/> +“My lords! this stranger of gigantic port<br/> +The good Eumaeus usher’d to your court.<br/> +Full well I mark’d the features of his face,<br/> +Though all unknown his clime, or noble race.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is this present, swineherd! of thy band?<br/> +Bring’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’d face.<br/> +Such guests Eumaeus to his country brings,<br/> +To share our feast, and lead the life of kings.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the hospitable swain rejoins:<br/> +“Thy passion, prince, belies thy knowing mind.<br/> +Who calls, from distant nations to his own,<br/> +The poor, distinguish’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.” +</p> + +<p> +To him Telemachus: “No more incense<br/> +The man by nature prone to insolence:<br/> +Injurious minds just answers but provoke”—<br/> +Then turning to Antinous, thus he spoke:<br/> +“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’ board.<br/> +To give another’s is thy hand so slow?<br/> +So much more sweet to spoil than to bestow?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</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’d the bread:<br/> +He fill’d his scrip, and to the threshold sped;<br/> +But first before Antinous stopp’d, and said:<br/> +“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’d in luxury of state<br/> +Whate’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’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’er the Egyptian main<br/> +By Egypt’s silver flood our ships we moor;<br/> +Our spies commission’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’d on their side: our guilty head<br/> +We turn’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’ haughty lord:<br/> +Hither, to ’scape his chains, my course I steer,<br/> +Still cursed by Fortune, and insulted here!” +</p> + +<p> +To whom Antinous thus his rage express’d:<br/> +“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’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’s not their own.” +</p> + +<p> +The chief, retiring: “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.” +</p> + +<p> +The haughty suitor with resentment burns,<br/> +And, sourly smiling, this reply returns:<br/> +“Take that, ere yet thou quit this princely throng;<br/> +And dumb for ever be thy slanderous tongue!”<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’d,<br/> +Sedate of soul, his character sustain’d,<br/> +And inly form’d revenge; then back withdrew:<br/> +Before his feet the well fill’d scrip he threw,<br/> +And thus with semblance mild address’d the crew: +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’s head,<br/> +And make the dust Antinous’ bridal bed.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +His furious deed the general anger moved,<br/> +All, even the worst, condemn’d; and some reproved.<br/> +“Was ever chief for wars like these renown’d?<br/> +Ill fits the stranger and the poor to wound.<br/> +Unbless’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Telemachus, absorb’d in thought severe,<br/> +Nourish’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> +“On him and his may the bright god of day<br/> +That base, inhospitable blow repay!”<br/> +The nurse replies: “If Jove receives my prayer,<br/> +Not one survives to breathe to-morrow’s air.” +</p> + +<p> +“All, all are foes, and mischief is their end;<br/> +Antinous most to gloomy death a friend<br/> +(Replies the queen): the stranger begg’d their grace,<br/> +And melting pity soften’d every face;<br/> +From every other hand redress he found,<br/> +But fell Antinous answer’d with a wound.”<br/> +Amidst her maids thus spoke the prudent queen,<br/> +Then bade Eumaeus call the pilgrim in.<br/> +“Much of the experienced man I long to hear,<br/> +If or his certain eye, or listening ear,<br/> +Have learn’d the fortunes of my wandering lord?”<br/> +Thus she, and good Eumaeus took the word: +</p> + +<p> +“A private audience if thy grace impart,<br/> +The stranger’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’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> +“Ulysses late he saw, on Cretan ground<br/> +(His fathers guest), for Minos’ birth renown’d.<br/> +He now but waits the wind to waft him o’er,<br/> +With boundless treasure, from Thesprotia’s shore.” +</p> + +<p> +To this the queen: “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’s an arm, like thine, Ulysses! strong,<br/> +To curb wild riot, and to punish wrong?” +</p> + +<p> +She spoke. Telemachus then sneezed aloud;<br/> +Constrain’d, his nostril echoed through the crowd.<br/> +The smiling queen the happy omen bless’d: +</p> + +<p> +“So may these impious fall, by Fate oppress’d!”<br/> +Then to Eumaeus: “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.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus spoke Penelope. Eumaeus flies<br/> +In duteous haste, and to Ulysses cries:<br/> +“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’s eternal pain.<br/> +If true, if faithful thou, her grateful mind<br/> +Of decent robes a present has design’d:<br/> +So finding favour in the royal eye,<br/> +Thy other wants her subjects shall supply.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Swift to the queen returns the gentle swain:<br/> +“And say (she cries), does fear or shame detain<br/> +The cautious stranger? With the begging kind<br/> +Shame suits but ill.” Eumaeus thus rejoin’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Whoe’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.”<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> +“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’s sake!” +</p> + +<p> +“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’s immortal powers we trust,<br/> +Safe in their care, for Heaven protects the just.” +</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/> +’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’d in thought the pensive hero sate,<br/> +A mendicant approach’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’s knees, when babe he lay,<br/> +She named Arnaeus on his natal day:<br/> +But Irus his associates call’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> +“Hence, dotard! hence, and timely speed thy way,<br/> +Lest dragg’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.”<br/> +To whom, with stern regard: “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’st thou fly, nor e’en in thought return!” +</p> + +<p> +“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’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!” +</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> +“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!” Well pleased they spring<br/> +Swift from their seats, and thickening form a ring. +</p> + +<p> +To whom Antinous: “Lo! enrich’d with blood,<br/> +A kid’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’d in these walls to stay,<br/> +The sole attendant on the genial day.” +</p> + +<p> +The lords applaud: Ulysses then with art,<br/> +And fears well-feign’d, disguised his dauntless heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Worn as I am with age, decay’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.” +</p> + +<p> +The peers assent: when straight his sacred head<br/> +Telemachus upraised, and sternly said:<br/> +“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.” +</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’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/> +“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’er his well-strong limbs, and brace his frame!” +</p> + +<p> +Then pale with fears, and sickening at the sight;<br/> +They dragg’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> +“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’st, to Eschetus resign’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.” +</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’d half his might; yet rising to the stroke,<br/> +His jawbone dash’d, the crashing jawbone broke:<br/> +Down dropp’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’d, rush inmix’d with blood. +</p> + +<p> +The peers transported, as outstretch’d he lies,<br/> +With bursts of laughter rend the vaulted skies;<br/> +Then dragg’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’d, reclining on the palace walls:<br/> +Then to his hand a staff the victor gave,<br/> +And thus with just reproach address’d the slave:<br/> +“There terrible, affright with dogs, and reign<br/> +A dreaded tyrant o’er the bestial train!<br/> +But mercy to the poor and stranger show,<br/> +Lest Heaven in vengeance send some mightier woe.” +</p> + +<p> +Scornful he spoke, and o’er his shoulder flung<br/> +The broad-patch’d scrip in tatters hung<br/> +Ill join’d, and knotted to a twisted thong.<br/> +Then, turning short, disdain’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’d their unknown king:<br/> +“Stranger, may Jove and all the aërial powers<br/> +With every blessing crown thy happy hours!<br/> +Our freedom to thy prowess’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.” +</p> + +<p> +While pleased he hears, Antinous bears the food,<br/> +A kid’s well-fatted entrails, rich with blood;<br/> +The bread from canisters of shining mould<br/> +Amphinomus; and wines that laugh in gold:<br/> +“And oh! (he mildly cries) may Heaven display<br/> +A beam of glory o’er thy future day!<br/> +Alas, the brave too oft is doom’d to bear<br/> +The gripes of poverty and stings of care.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom with thought mature the king replies:<br/> +“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’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, ’gainst Heaven the wretch rebels.<br/> +For man is changeful, as his bliss or woe!<br/> +Too high when prosperous, when distress’d too low.<br/> +There was a day, when with the scornful great<br/> +I swell’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’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’st thou, favour’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Then to the gods the rosy juice he pours,<br/> +And the drain’d goblet to the chief restores.<br/> +Stung to the soul, o’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’s wonder, and thy son’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> +“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’d there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Go, warn thy son, nor be the warning vain<br/> +(Replied the sagest of the royal train);<br/> +But bathed, anointed, and adorn’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah me! forbear!” returns the queen, “forbear,<br/> +Oh! talk not, talk not of vain beauty’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Then while Eurynome the mandate bears,<br/> +From heaven Minerva shoots with guardian cares;<br/> +O’er all her senses, as the couch she press’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’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/> +“Howe’er ’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’d name!<br/> +For thee I mourn till death dissolves my frame.” +</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’er her brow display’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> +“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’s hand<br/> +Beneath thy roof, and couldst thou tamely stand!<br/> +If thou the stranger’s righteous cause decline<br/> +His is the sufferance, but the shame is thine.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom, with filial awe, the prince returns:<br/> +“That generous soul with just resentment burns;<br/> +Yet, taught by time, my heart has learn’d to glow<br/> +For others’ good, and melt at others’ 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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Then to the queen Eurymachus replies:<br/> +“O justly loved, and not more fair than wise!<br/> +Should Greece through all her hundred states survey<br/> +Thy finish’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah me! (returns the queen) when from this shore<br/> +Ulysses sail’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’er my beauties prove,<br/> +My virtues last; my brightest charm is love.<br/> +Now, grief, thou all art mine! the gods o’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’d my hand, and, ‘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’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 ’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!’<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’n e’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.” +</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/> +“Offspring of kings, and more than woman wise!<br/> +’Tis right; ’tis man’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.” +</p> + +<p> +The peers despatch’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’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’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’d with copious fires display<br/> +O’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: “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’en till the morning lamp adorns the sky;<br/> +E’en till the morning, with unwearied care,<br/> +Sleepless I watch; for I have learn’d to bear.” +</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/> +“Oh! whither wanders thy distemper’d brain,<br/> +Thou bold intruder on a princely train?<br/> +Hence, to the vagrants’ 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’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!” +</p> + +<p> +To whom with frowns: “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.” +</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’d in thought, on vengeance fix’d he stood.<br/> +And now the martial maid, by deeper wrongs<br/> +To rouse Ulysses, points the suitors’ tongues:<br/> +Scornful of age, to taunt the virtuous man,<br/> +Thoughtless and gay, Eurymachus began: +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Then to the king that levell’d haughty Troy:<br/> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom incensed: “Should we, O prince, engage<br/> +In rival tasks beneath the burning rage<br/> +Of summer suns; were both constrain’d to wield<br/> +Foodless the scythe along the burden’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,—say,—<br/> +Misname me glutton, in that glorious day?<br/> +No, thy ill-judging thoughts the brave disgrace<br/> +’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.” +</p> + +<p> +While yet he speaks, Eurymachus replies,<br/> +With indignation flashing from his eyes: +</p> + +<p> +“Slave, I with justice might deserve the wrong,<br/> +Should I not punish that opprobrious tongue.<br/> +Irreverent to the great, and uncontroll’d,<br/> +Art thou from wine, or innate folly, bold?<br/> +Perhaps these outrages from Irus flow,<br/> +A worthless triumph o’er a worthless foe!” +</p> + +<p> +He said, and with full force a footstool threw;<br/> +Whirl’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’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/> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the stern Telemachus uprose;<br/> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Silent, abash’d, they hear the stern rebuke,<br/> +Till thus Amphinomus the silence broke: +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +The peers assent: the goblet Mulius crown’d<br/> +With purple juice, and bore in order round:<br/> +Each peer successive his libation pours<br/> +To the blest gods who fill’d the ethereal bowers:<br/> +Then swill’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’d:<br/> +Revenge mature for act inflamed his breast;<br/> +And thus the son the fervent sire address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +The prince, obedient to the sage command,<br/> +To Euryclea thus: “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’d with vapour of the smouldering flame.” +</p> + +<p> +“In happier hour (pleased Euryclea cries),<br/> +Tutour’d by early woes, grow early wise;<br/> +Inspect with sharpen’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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</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’d,<br/> +And wrapp’d with ecstasy the sire address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“What miracle thus dazzles with surprise!<br/> +Distinct in rows the radiant columns rise;<br/> +The walls, where’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’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.” +</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’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’d with coy Diana’s pensive air.<br/> +An ivory seat with silver ringlets graced,<br/> +By famed Icmalius wrought, the menials placed:<br/> +With ivory silver’d thick the footstool shone,<br/> +O’er which the panther’s various hide was thrown.<br/> +The sovereign seat with graceful air she press’d;<br/> +To different tasks their toil the nymphs address’d:<br/> +The golden goblets some, and some restored<br/> +From stains of luxury the polish’d board:<br/> +These to remove the expiring embers came,<br/> +While those with unctuous fir foment the flame. +</p> + +<p> +’Twas then Melantho with imperious mien<br/> +Renew’d the attack, incontinent of spleen:<br/> +“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”—and waved it hissing in her hand. +</p> + +<p> +The insulted hero rolls his wrathful eyes<br/> +And “Why so turbulent of soul? (he cries;)<br/> +Can these lean shrivell’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’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’d,<br/> +And all that makes the great be call’d the bless’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/> +’Tis Jove’s high will, and be his will obey’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, ’tis wisdom to beware:<br/> +Sweet blooms the prince beneath Apollo’s care;<br/> +Your deeds with quick impartial eye surveys,<br/> +Potent to punish what he cannot praise.” +</p> + +<p> +Her keen reproach had reach’d the sovereign’s ear:<br/> +“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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +The menial fair obeys with duteous haste:<br/> +A seat adorn’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> +“Reveal, obsequious to my first demand,<br/> +Thy name, thy lineage, and thy natal land.” +</p> + +<p> +He thus: “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’d;<br/> +Thy autumns bind with copious fruit oppress’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Their gifts the gods resumed (the queen rejoin’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’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’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’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!—<br/> +This art, instinct by some celestial power,<br/> +I tried, elusive of the bridal hour: +</p> + +<p> +“‘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’d in supreme command,<br/> +Want the last duties of a daughter’s hand.’<br/> +The fiction pleased; their loves I long elude;<br/> +The night still ravell’d what the day renew’d:<br/> +Three years successful in my heart conceal’d,<br/> +My ineffectual fraud the fourth reveal’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’d, and exhausted stores—<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’d race;<br/> +No poor unfather’d product of disgrace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Princess! (he cries,) renew’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!—<br/> +But inward on my soul let sorrow prey,<br/> +Your sovereign will my duty bids obey. +</p> + +<p> +“Crete awes the circling waves, a fruitful soil!<br/> +And ninety cities crown the sea-born isle:<br/> +Mix’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’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’d,<br/> +Idomeneus whom Ilion fields attest<br/> +Of matchless deeds: untrain’d to martial toil,<br/> +I lived inglorious in my native isle,<br/> +Studious of peace, and Æthon is my name.<br/> +’Twas then to Crete the great Ulysses came.<br/> +For elemental war, and wintry Jove,<br/> +From Malea’s gusty cape his navy drove<br/> +To bright Lucina’s fane; the shelfy coast<br/> +Where loud Amnisus in the deep is lost.<br/> +His vessels moor’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’d.<br/> +Vain hope! ten suns had warm’d the western strand<br/> +Since my brave brother, with his Cretan band,<br/> +Had sail’d for Troy: but to the genial feast<br/> +My honour’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’d the aërial space,<br/> +My hospitable dome he deign’d to grace:<br/> +And when the north had ceased the stormy roar,<br/> +He wing’d his voyage to the Phrygian shore.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus the fam’d hero, perfected in wiles,<br/> +With fair similitude of truth beguiles<br/> +The queen’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’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’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> +“Stranger! that e’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“‘Tis hard (he cries,) to bring to sudden sight<br/> +Ideas that have wing’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.—In ample mode,<br/> +A robe of military purple flow’d<br/> +O’er all his frame: illustrious on his breast,<br/> +The double-clasping gold the king confess’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’d to gaze,<br/> +In silent wonder sigh’d unwilling praise.<br/> +A sabre, when the warrior press’d to part,<br/> +I gave, enamell’d with Vulcanian art:<br/> +A mantle purple-tinged, and radiant vest,<br/> +Dimension’d equal to his size, express’d<br/> +Affection grateful to my honour’d guest.<br/> +A favourite herald in his train I knew,<br/> +His visage solemn, sad of sable hue:<br/> +Short woolly curls o’erfleeced his bending head,<br/> +O’er which a promontory shoulder spread;<br/> +Eurybates; in whose large soul alone<br/> +Ulysses view’d an image of his own.” +</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’d powers,<br/> +“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’d, my domestic friend!<br/> +The vest much envied on your native coast,<br/> +And regal robe with figured gold emboss’d,<br/> +In happier hours my artful hand employ’d,<br/> +When my loved lord this blissful bower enjoy’d:<br/> +The fall of Troy erroneous and forlorn<br/> +Doom’d to survive, and never to return!” +</p> + +<p> +Then he, with pity touch’d: “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’d your virgin love<br/> +With the dear blessing of a fair increase;<br/> +Himself adorn’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’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’d by Jove, and Phœbus’ just decree,<br/> +To perish in the rough Trinacrian sea.<br/> +To better fate the blameless chief ordain’d,<br/> +A floating fragment of the wreck regain’d,<br/> +And rode the storm; till, by the billows toss’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’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’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’d the genial feast),<br/> +That anchor’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’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’d!<br/> +Thus lives your lord; nor longer doom’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“What thanks! what boon! (replied the queen), are due,<br/> +When time shall prove the storied blessing true!<br/> +My lord’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’s relentless rage.<br/> +I long must weep, nor will Ulysses come,<br/> +With royal gifts to send you honour’d home!—<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’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’d race;<br/> +’Tis ours with good the scanty round to grace.<br/> +Those who to cruel wrong their state abuse,<br/> +Dreaded in life the mutter’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Princess? (he cried) in vain your bounties flow<br/> +On me, confirm’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’d weeds (my decent robes resign’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Pleased with his wise reply, the queen rejoin’d:<br/> +“Such gentle manners, and so sage a mind,<br/> +In all who graced this hospitable bower<br/> +I ne’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’s hand<br/> +His tender bloom to manly growth sustain’d:<br/> +Of matchless prudence, and a duteous mind;<br/> +Though now to life’s extremest verge declined,<br/> +Of strength superior to the toil design’d—<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.” +</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’d to herself replies: +</p> + +<p> +“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’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!—<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’s command,<br/> +Accept the bath from this obsequious hand.<br/> +A strong emotion shakes my anguish’d breast:<br/> +In thy whole form Ulysses seems express’d;<br/> +Of all the wretched harboured on our coast,<br/> +None imaged e’er like thee my master lost.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus half-discover’d through the dark disguise,<br/> +With cool composure feign’d, the chief replies:<br/> +“You join your suffrage to the public vote;<br/> +The same you think have all beholders thought.” +</p> + +<p> +He said: replenish’d from the purest springs,<br/> +The laver straight with busy care she brings:<br/> +In the deep vase, that shone like burnish’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’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’s eye.<br/> +Cautious in vain! nor ceased the dame to find<br/> +This scar with which his manly knee was sign’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’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’ 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/> +“Receive (she cries) your royal daughter’s son;<br/> +And name the blessing that your prayers have won.”<br/> +Then thus the hoary chief: “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’s soil, my Delphic dome<br/> +With gifts of price shall send him joyous home.”<br/> +Lured with the promised boon, when youthful prime<br/> +Ended in man, his mother’s natal clime<br/> +Ulysses sought; with fond affection dear<br/> +Amphitea’s arms received the royal heir:<br/> +Her ancient lord an equal joy possess’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’d the skies, and night involved the pole.<br/> +Their drooping eyes the slumberous shade oppress’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’d with horrid shades,<br/> +With deep-mouth’d hounds the hunter-troop invades;<br/> +What time the sun, from ocean’s peaceful stream,<br/> +Darts o’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’s boreal blast, nor thunderous shower,<br/> +Nor solar ray, could pierce the shady bower.<br/> +With wither’d foliage strew’d, a heapy store!<br/> +The warm pavilion of a dreadful boar.<br/> +Roused by the hounds’ and hunters’ 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’d, the knee to gore;<br/> +Aslope they glanced, the sinewy fibres tore,<br/> +And bared the bone; Ulysses undismay’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’d his enormous bulk extended on the plain.<br/> +With bandage firm Ulysses’ knee they bound;<br/> +Then, chanting mystic lays, the closing wound<br/> +Of sacred melody confess’d the force;<br/> +The tides of life regain’d their azure course.<br/> +Then back they led the youth with loud acclaim;<br/> +Autolycus, enamoured with his fame,<br/> +Confirm’d the cure; and from the Delphic dome<br/> +With added gifts return’d him glorious home.<br/> +He safe at Ithaca with joy received,<br/> +Relates the chase, and early praise achieved. +</p> + +<p> +Deep o’er his knee inseam’d remain’d the scar;<br/> +Which noted token of the woodland war<br/> +When Euryclea found, the ablution ceased:<br/> +Down dropp’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’d with tears the pleasing strife express’d<br/> +Of grief and joy, alternate in her breast.<br/> +Her fluttering words in melting murmurs died;<br/> +At length abrupt—“My son!—my king!”—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’d her mind on views remote,<br/> +And from the present bliss abstracts her thought.<br/> +His hand to Euryclea’s mouth applied,<br/> +“Art thou foredoom’d my pest? (the hero cried:)<br/> +Thy milky founts my infant lips have drain’d;<br/> +And have the Fates thy babbling age ordain’d<br/> +To violate the life thy youth sustain’d?<br/> +An exile have I told, with weeping eyes,<br/> +Full twenty annual suns in distant skies;<br/> +At length return’d, some god inspires thy breast<br/> +To know thy king, and here I stand confess’d.<br/> +This heaven-discover’d truth to thee consign’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’d age<br/> +Shall bleed a victim to vindictive rage.” +</p> + +<p> +Then thus rejoin’d the dame, devoid of fear:<br/> +“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’d,<br/> +Shall prostrate to thy sword the suitor-crowd,<br/> +The deeds I’ll blazon of the menial fair;<br/> +The lewd to death devote, the virtuous spare.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +He said: obsequious, with redoubled pace,<br/> +She to the fount conveys the exhausted vase:<br/> +The bath renew’d, she ends the pleasing toil<br/> +With plenteous unction of ambrosial oil.<br/> +Adjusting to his limbs the tatter’d vest,<br/> +His former seat received the stranger guest;<br/> +Whom thus with pensive air the queen addressed: +</p> + +<p> +“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’er brighten’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’s hush’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’er the plains;<br/> +Young Itylus, his parents’ darling joy!<br/> +Whom chance misled the mother to destroy;<br/> +Now doom’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’s my menial train,<br/> +Partake his counsels, and assist his reign?<br/> +Or, since, mature in manhood, he deplores<br/> +His dome dishonour’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’d, at length decide<br/> +These wasteful love-debates, a mourning bride!<br/> +A visionary thought I’ll now relate;<br/> +Illustrate, if you know, the shadow’d fate: +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’d, condole.<br/> +But whilst with grief and rage my bosom burn’d,<br/> +Sudden the tyrant of the skies returned;<br/> +Perch’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.’<br/> +This said, the pleasing feather’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“The vision self-explain’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hard is the task, and rare,” (the queen rejoin’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’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’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’d reed.<br/> +Torn from these walls (where long the kinder powers<br/> +With joy and pomp have wing’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!” +</p> + +<p> +“Propose the sportive lot (the chief replies),<br/> +Nor dread to name yourself the bowyer’s prize;<br/> +Ulysses will surprise the unfinish’d game,<br/> +Avow’d, and falsify the suitors’ claim.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom with grace serene the queen rejoin’d:<br/> +“In all thy speech what pleasing force I find!<br/> +O’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’d use enjoins; to rest and joy<br/> +Estranged, since dear Ulysses sail’d to Troy!<br/> +Meantime instructed is the menial tribe<br/> +Your couch to fashion as yourself prescribe.” +</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’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’d of fleecy skins his humble bed<br/> +(The remnants of the spoil the suitor-crowd<br/> +In festival devour’d, and victims vow’d).<br/> +Then o’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’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’er her young the mother-mastiff growls,<br/> +And bays the stranger groom: so wrath compress’d,<br/> +Recoiling, mutter’d thunder in his breast.<br/> +“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’ toil<br/> +Dire Polypheme devour’d; I then was freed<br/> +By patient prudence from the death decreed.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus anchor’d safe on reason’s peaceful coast,<br/> +Tempests of wrath his soul no longer toss’d;<br/> +Restless his body rolls, to rage resign’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’s doom resolved<br/> +When in the form of mortal nymph array’d,<br/> +From heaven descends the Jove-born martial maid;<br/> +And hovering o’er his head in view confess’d,<br/> +The goddess thus her favourite care address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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’d in thy queen! bless’d in thy blooming heir!<br/> +Whom, to the gods when suppliant fathers bow<br/> +They name the standard of their dearest vow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just is thy kind reproach (the chief rejoin’d),<br/> +Deeds full of fate distract my various mind,<br/> +In contemplation wrapp’d. This hostile crew<br/> +What single arm hath prowess to subdue?<br/> +Or if, by Jove’s and thy auxiliar aid,<br/> +They’re doom’d to bleed; O say, celestial maid!<br/> +Where shall Ulysses shun, or how sustain<br/> +Nations embattled to revenge the slain?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.”<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’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> +“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’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’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’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’ 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.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus, whilst Aurora mounts her purple throne,<br/> +In audible laments she breathes her moan;<br/> +The sounds assault Ulysses’ 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> +“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.” +</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’s heart rebounds.<br/> +Soon, with consummate joy to crown his prayer,<br/> +An omen’d voice invades his ravish’d ear.<br/> +Beneath a pile that close the dome adjoin’d,<br/> +Twelve female slaves the gift of Ceres grind;<br/> +Task’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’d,<br/> +Still turn’d the toilsome mill with anxious mind;<br/> +And thus in bitterness of soul divined: +</p> + +<p> +“Father of gods and men, whose thunders roll<br/> +O’er the cerulean vault, and shake the pole:<br/> +Whoe’er from Heaven has gain’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’ertoil’d I grind the golden grain:<br/> +Far from this dome the lewd devourers cast,<br/> +And be this festival decreed their last!” +</p> + +<p> +Big with their doom denounced in earth and sky,<br/> +Ulysses’ heart dilates with secret joy.<br/> +Meantime the menial train with unctious wood<br/> +Heap’d high the genial hearth, Vulcanian food:<br/> +When, early dress’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’d;<br/> +And Euryclea thus he there address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“Say thou to whom my youth its nurture owes,<br/> +Was care for due refection and repose<br/> +Bestow’d the stranger-guest? Or waits he grieved,<br/> +His age not honour’d, nor his wants relieved?<br/> +Promiscuous grace on all the queen confers<br/> +(In woes bewilder’d, oft the wisest errs).<br/> +The wordy vagrant to the dole aspires,<br/> +And modest worth with noble scorn retires.” +</p> + +<p> +She thus: “O cease that ever-honour’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’d;<br/> +Nor would he court repose in downy state,<br/> +Unbless’d, abandon’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.” +</p> + +<p> +His cornel javelin poised with regal port,<br/> +To the sage Greeks convened in Themis’ court,<br/> +Forth-issuing from the dome the prince repair’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> +“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’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.” +</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’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’d:<br/> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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’d,<br/> +All cheaply sated at another’s cost!” +</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’ feast preferr’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> +“Here vagrant, still? offensive to my lords!<br/> +Blows have more energy than airy words;<br/> +These arguments I’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!” +</p> + +<p> +Rejoinder to the churl the king disdain’d,<br/> +But shook his head, and rising wrath restrain’d. +</p> + +<p> +From Cephalenia ’cross the surgy main<br/> +Philaetius late arrived, a faithful swain.<br/> +A steer ungrateful to the bull’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’d moan.<br/> +Straight to the guardian of the bristly kind<br/> +He thus began, benevolent of mind: +</p> + +<p> +“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’d to go!”<br/> +Then affable he thus the chief address’d,<br/> +Whilst with pathetic warmth his hand he press’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’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’ll grieve, till sorrow sink me to the grave!<br/> +His kind protecting hand my youth preferr’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the chief: “In thy capacious mind<br/> +Since daring zeal with cool debate is join’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’d Ulysses shall regain,<br/> +And to the shades devote the suitor-train.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.”<br/> +Assents Eumaeus to the prayer address’d;<br/> +And equal ardours fire his loyal breast. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime the suitors urge the prince’s fate,<br/> +And deathful arts employ the dire debate:<br/> +When in his airy tour, the bird of Jove<br/> +Truss’d with his sinewy pounce a trembling dove;<br/> +Sinister to their hope! This omen eyed<br/> +Amphinomus, who thus presaging cried: +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</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’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/> +“Partake, my guest (he cried), without control<br/> +The social feast, and drain the cheering bowl:<br/> +Dread not the railer’s laugh, nor ruffian’s rage;<br/> +No vulgar roof protects thy honour’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Awed by the prince, so haughty, brave, and young,<br/> +Rage gnaw’d the lip, amazement chain’d the tongue.<br/> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Without reply vouchsafed, Antinous ceased:<br/> +Meanwhile the pomp of festival increased:<br/> +By heralds rank’d; in marshall’d order move<br/> +The city tribes, to pleased Apollo’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’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’d with many a dead-born jest;<br/> +And urged, for title to a consort queen,<br/> +Unnumber’d acres arable and green<br/> +(Ctesippus named); this lord Ulysses eyed,<br/> +And thus burst out the imposthumate with pride: +</p> + +<p> +“The sentence I propose, ye peers, attend:<br/> +Since due regard must wait the prince’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’s treat.” +</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’d foot indissolubly join’d;<br/> +Which whizzing high, the wall unseemly sign’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/> +“Had not the inglorious wound thy malice aim’d<br/> +Fall’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’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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +A long cessation of discourse ensued,<br/> +By gentler Agelaus thus renew’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’d,<br/> +You reign, of this imperial dome possess’d.” +</p> + +<p> +Sage and serene Telemachus replies:<br/> +“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’d, perhaps, in Pluto’s dreary train),<br/> +Whene’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.” +</p> + +<p> +But Pallas clouds with intellectual gloom<br/> +The suitors’ 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’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’d, the Hyperesian seer<br/> +Uprose, and thus divined the vengeance near: +</p> + +<p> +“O race to death devote! with Stygian shade<br/> +Each destin’d peer impending fates invade;<br/> +With tears your wan distorted cheeks are drown’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!” +</p> + +<p> +Yet warn’d in vain, with laughter loud elate<br/> +The peers reproach the sure divine of Fate;<br/> +And thus Eurymachus: “The dotard’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tax not (the heaven-illumined seer rejoin’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.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, to sage Piraeus sped the seer,<br/> +His honour’d host, a welcome inmate there.<br/> +O’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/> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus jovial they; but nought the prince replies;<br/> +Full on his sire he roll’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’d to their crimes decreed;<br/> +A feast of death, the feasters doom’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’ 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’ fires,<br/> +With her own art Penelope inspires<br/> +Who now can bend Ulysses’ bow, and wing<br/> +The well-aim’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’d,<br/> +With steel and polish’d elephant adorn’d:<br/> +Swift to the inmost room she bent her way,<br/> +Where, safe reposed, the royal treasures lay:<br/> +There shone high heap’d the labour’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’s shore he trod,<br/> +On young Ulysses Iphitus bestowed:<br/> +Beneath Orsilochus’ roof they met;<br/> +One loss was private, one a public debt;<br/> +Messena’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’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’s voice, the social rites transgress’d;<br/> +And for the beauteous mares destroy’d his guest.<br/> +He gave the bow; and on Ulysses’ 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’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’er the pavement glides with grace divine<br/> +(With polish’d oak the level pavements shine);<br/> +The folding gates a dazzling light display’d,<br/> +With pomp of various architrave o’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’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’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’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> +“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’ 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!” +</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’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> +“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’d man.<br/> +Enough her precious tears already flow—<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’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.” +</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: “Some god I find<br/> +With pleasing frenzy has possess’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—Lo! I lead the way. +</p> + +<p> +“I too may try, and if this arm can wing<br/> +The feather’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’d in her, possess those arms alone,<br/> +Heir of my father’s strength, as well as throne.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke; then rising, his broad sword unbound,<br/> +And cast his purple garment on the ground.<br/> +A trench he open’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’d the bow, and twang’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’d:<br/> +And thrice he hoped, and thrice again he fear’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’d,<br/> +And, artful, thus the suitor-train address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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’d,<br/> +Accept the trial, and the prize contest.” +</p> + +<p> +He cast the bow before him, and apart<br/> +Against the polish’d quiver propp’d the dart.<br/> +Resuming then his seat, Eupithes’ son,<br/> +The bold Antinous, to the rest begun:<br/> +“From where the goblet first begins to flow,<br/> +From right to left in order take the bow;<br/> +And prove your several strengths.” The princes heard<br/> +And first Leiodes, blameless priest, appear’d:<br/> +The eldest born of Œnops’ 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’er:<br/> +“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.” +</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’d shaft he throws,<br/> +And to the seat returns from whence he rose. +</p> + +<p> +To him Antinous thus with fury said:<br/> +“What words ill-omen’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.” He ended there,<br/> +And bade Melanthius a vast pile prepare;<br/> +He gives it instant flame, then fast beside<br/> +Spreads o’er an ample board a bullock’s hide.<br/> +With melted lard they soak the weapon o’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’d; but those confess’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’ertakes.<br/> +Then thus with accent mild Ulysses spoke:<br/> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +Philaetius thus: “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.”<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/> +“Those vows the gods accord; behold the man!<br/> +Your own Ulysses! twice ten years detain’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’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’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’ sons, of yore,<br/> +On Parnass’ top I chased the tusky boar.”<br/> +His ragged vest then drawn aside disclosed<br/> +The sign conspicuous, and the scar exposed:<br/> +Eager they view’d, with joy they stood amazed<br/> +With tearful eyes o’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/> +“Enough—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 ’tis borne away,<br/> +Thy master’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’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’s main gate: to guard that pass be thine.” +</p> + +<p> +This said, he first return’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’d from his mighty soul, and thus began: +</p> + +<p> +“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’d so far below<br/> +Ulysses’ strength, as not to bend his bow!<br/> +How shall all ages our attempt deride!<br/> +Our weakness scorn!” Antinous thus replied: +</p> + +<p> +“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’ 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.” +</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’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> +“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’ 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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Rage flash’d in lightning from the suitors’ eyes,<br/> +Yet mixed with terror at the bold emprise.<br/> +Antinous then: “O miserable guest!<br/> +Is common sense quite banish’d from thy breast?<br/> +Sufficed it not, within the palace placed,<br/> +To sit distinguish’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’ roofs with frantic riot rung;<br/> +Boundless the Centaur raged; till one and all<br/> +The heroes rose, and dragg’d him from the hall;<br/> +His nose they shorten’d, and his ears they slit,<br/> +And sent him sober’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’er the main,<br/> +Where Echetus to death the guilty brings<br/> +(The worst of mortals, e’en the worst of kings).<br/> +Better than that, if thou approve our cheer;<br/> +Cease the mad strife and share our bounty here.” +</p> + +<p> +To this the queen her just dislike express’d: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Tis impious, prince, to harm the stranger-guest,<br/> +Base to insult who bears a suppliant’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’d his brain:<br/> +Then ease your bosoms of a fear so vain.<br/> +Far be he banish’d from this stately scene<br/> +Who wrongs his princess with a thought so mean.” +</p> + +<p> +“O fair! and wisest of so fair a kind!<br/> +(Respectful thus Eurymachus rejoin’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/> +‘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.’<br/> +Thus will the common voice our deed defame,<br/> +And thus posterity upbraid our name.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the queen: “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’d sandals, a rich cloak and vest,<br/> +A safe conveyance to his port of rest.” +</p> + +<p> +“O royal mother! ever-honour’d name!<br/> +Permit me (cries Telemachus) to claim<br/> +A son’s just right. No Grecian prince but I<br/> +Has power this bow to grant or to deny.<br/> +Of all that Ithaca’s rough hills contain,<br/> +And all wide Elis’ courser-breeding plain,<br/> +To me alone my father’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.” +</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’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/> +“Hold! lawless rustic! whither wilt thou go?<br/> +To whom, insensate, dost thou bear the bow?<br/> +Exiled for this to some sequester’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.”<br/> +Thus they. Aghast he laid the weapon down,<br/> +But bold Telemachus thus urged him on:<br/> +“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’s vengeful hand<br/> +Stretch’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!” +</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/> +“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.” +</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’ 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’d on all sides, and view’d it o’er and o’er;<br/> +Lest time or worms had done the weapon wrong,<br/> +Its owner absent, and untried so long.<br/> +While some deriding—“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.”<br/> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Heedless he heard them: but disdain’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’d<br/> +The bending horns, and one the string essay’d.<br/> +From his essaying hand the string, let fly,<br/> +Twang’d short and sharp like the shrill swallow’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’d from on high.<br/> +Fired at the call of heaven’s almighty Lord,<br/> +He snatch’d the shaft that glitter’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’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: “Nor have I wrought thee shame;<br/> +Nor err’d this hand unfaithful to its aim;<br/> +Nor prov’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’ 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’s soft voice prolong the night;<br/> +Music, the banquet’s most refined delight.” +</p> + +<p> +He said, then gave a nod; and at the word<br/> +Telemachus girds on his shining sword.<br/> +Fast by his father’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’er the threshold strode;<br/> +Stripp’d of his rags, he blazed out like a god.<br/> +Full in their face the lifted bow he bore,<br/> +And quiver’d deaths, a formidable store;<br/> +Before his feet the rattling shower he threw,<br/> +And thus, terrific, to the suitor-crew: +</p> + +<p> +“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.”<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’d the golden bowl!<br/> +E’en then to drain it lengthen’d out his breath;<br/> +Changed to the deep, the bitter draught of death:<br/> +For fate who fear’d amidst a feastful band?<br/> +And fate to numbers, by a single hand?<br/> +Full through his throat Ulysses’ weapon pass’d,<br/> +And pierced his neck. He falls, and breathes his last.<br/> +The tumbling goblet the wide floor o’erflows,<br/> +A stream of gore burst spouting from his nose;<br/> +Grim in convulsive agonies be sprawls:<br/> +Before him spurn’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’er all the dome they cast a haggard eye,<br/> +Each look’d for arms—in vain; no arms were nigh:<br/> +“Aim’st thou at princes? (all amazed they said;)<br/> +Thy last of games unhappy hast thou play’d;<br/> +Thy erring shaft has made our bravest bleed,<br/> +And death, unlucky guest, attends thy deed.<br/> +Vultures shall tear thee.” Thus incensed they spoke,<br/> +While each to chance ascribed the wondrous stroke:<br/> +Blind as they were: for death e’en now invades<br/> +His destined prey, and wraps them all in shades.<br/> +Then, grimly frowning, with a dreadful look,<br/> +That wither’d all their hearts, Ulysses spoke: +</p> + +<p> +“Dogs, ye have had your day! ye fear’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’en to our bed presumptuous you aspired:<br/> +Laws or divine or human fail’d to move,<br/> +Or shame of men, or dread of gods above;<br/> +Heedless alike of infamy or praise,<br/> +Or Fame’s eternal voice in future days;<br/> +The hour of vengeance, wretches, now is come;<br/> +Impending fate is yours, and instant doom.” +</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> +“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’d<br/> +In thy spoil’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.” Ulysses burn’d<br/> +With high disdain, and sternly thus return’d: +</p> + +<p> +“All, all the treasure that enrich’d our throne<br/> +Before your rapines, join’d with all your own,<br/> +If offer’d, vainly should for mercy call;<br/> +’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.” He sternly spoke:<br/> +With guilty fears the pale assembly shook.<br/> +Alone Eurymachus exhorts the train:<br/> +“Yon archer, comrades, will not shoot in vain;<br/> +But from the threshold shall his darts be sped,<br/> +(Whoe’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Swift as he spoke, he drew his traitor sword,<br/> +And like a lion rush’d against his lord:<br/> +The wary chief the rushing foe repress’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’er the board!<br/> +Before him wide, in mix’d effusion roll<br/> +The untasted viands, and the jovial bowl.<br/> +Full through his liver pass’d the mortal wound,<br/> +With dying rage his forehead beats the ground;<br/> +He spurn’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’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’d sword.<br/> +With speedy ardour to his sire he flies,<br/> +And, “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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Haste, and return (Ulysses made reply)<br/> +While yet the auxiliar shafts this hand supply;<br/> +Lest thus alone, encounter’d by an host,<br/> +Driven from the gate, the important pass be lost.” +</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’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’d<br/> +O’er the high crest, and cast a dreadful shade. +</p> + +<p> +There stood a window near, whence looking down<br/> +From o’er the porch appear’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: “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.”<br/> +Melanthius then: “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.” +</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’d with mighty woe,<br/> +On every side he sees the labour grow;<br/> +“Oh cursed event! and oh unlook’d for aid!<br/> +Melanthius or the women have betray’d—<br/> +Oh my dear son!”—The father with a sigh<br/> +Then ceased; the filial virtue made reply; +</p> + +<p> +“Falsehood is folly, and ’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’d in) well secure that door:<br/> +Learn, if by female fraud this deed were done,<br/> +Or (as my thought misgives) by Dolius’ son.” +</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’d Ulysses near his side: +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +The ready swains obey’d with joyful haste,<br/> +Behind the felon unperceived they pass’d,<br/> +As round the room in quest of arms he goes<br/> +(The half-shut door conceal’d his lurking foes):<br/> +One hand sustain’d a helm, and one the shield<br/> +Which old Laertes wont in youth to wield,<br/> +Cover’d with dust, with dryness chapp’d and worn,<br/> +The brass corroded, and the leather torn.<br/> +Thus laden, o’er the threshold as he stepp’d,<br/> +Fierce on the villain from each side they leap’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’s rigid will;<br/> +First, fast behind, his hands and feet they bound,<br/> +Then straighten’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/> +“There pass thy pleasing night, O gentle swain!<br/> +On that soft pillow, from that envied height,<br/> +First may’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’ feast.” +</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’s aid,<br/> +Jove’s daughter, Pallas, War’s triumphant maid:<br/> +In Mentor’s friendly form she join’d his side:<br/> +Ulysses saw, and thus with transport cried: +</p> + +<p> +“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’er through life’s whole series I have done,<br/> +Or good, or grateful, now to mind recall,<br/> +And, aiding this one hour, repay it all.” +</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> +“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’d consort shall we send;<br/> +With his thy forfeit lands and treasures blend;<br/> +Thus, and thus only, shalt thou join thy friend.” +</p> + +<p> +His barbarous insult even the goddess fires,<br/> +Who thus the warrior to revenge inspires: +</p> + +<p> +“Art thou Ulysses? where then shall we find<br/> +The patient body and the constant mind?<br/> +That courage, once the Trojans’ daily dread,<br/> +Known nine long years, and felt by heroes dead?<br/> +And where that conduct, which revenged the lust<br/> +Of Priam’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!” +</p> + +<p> +She spoke; but willing longer to survey<br/> +The sire and son’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’d like a swallow on a rafter’s height,<br/> +And unperceived enjoys the rising fight. +</p> + +<p> +Damastor’s son, bold Agelaus, leads,<br/> +The guilty war, Eurynomus succeeds;<br/> +With these, Pisander, great Polyctor’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> +“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’ heart:<br/> +The rest must perish, their great leader slain:<br/> +Thus shall one stroke the glory lost regain.” +</p> + +<p> +Then all at once their mingled lances threw,<br/> +And thirsty all of one man’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’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/> +“‘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.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke: at once their fiery lances flew:<br/> +Great Demoptolemus Ulysses slew;<br/> +Euryades received the prince’s dart;<br/> +The goatherd’s quiver’d in Pisander’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’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’ arm the spear elanced:<br/> +On good Eumaeus’ 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’d thee next, Eurydamus, to bear,<br/> +Thy death ennobled by Ulysses’ spear.<br/> +By the bold son Amphimedon was slain,<br/> +And Polybus renown’d, the faithful swain.<br/> +Pierced through the breast the rude Ctesippus bled,<br/> +And thus Philaetius gloried o’er the dead: +</p> + +<p> +“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’s heel is answered with this spear.” +</p> + +<p> +Ulysses brandish’d high his vengeful steel,<br/> +And Damastorides that instant fell:<br/> +Fast by Leocritus expiring lay,<br/> +The prince’s javelin tore its bloody way<br/> +Through all his bowels: down he tumbled prone,<br/> +His batter’d front and brains besmear the stone. +</p> + +<p> +Now Pallas shines confess’d; aloft she spreads<br/> +The arm of vengeance o’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’d by the breeze’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’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/> +“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’d<br/> +Full oft was check’d the injustice of the rest:<br/> +Averse they heard me when I counselled well,<br/> +Their hearts were harden’d, and they justly fell.<br/> +O spare an augur’s consecrated head,<br/> +Nor add the blameless to the guilty dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’en to our bed thy pride aspires:<br/> +One common crime one common fate requires.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus speaking, from the ground the sword he took<br/> +Which Agelaus’ dying hand forsook:<br/> +Full through his neck the weighty falchion sped;<br/> +Along the pavement roll’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’s inviolable altar nigh,<br/> +Where oft Laertes holy vows had paid,<br/> +And oft Ulysses smoking victims laid.<br/> +His honour’d harp with care he first set down,<br/> +Between the laver and the silver throne;<br/> +Then prostrate stretch’d before the dreadful man,<br/> +Persuasive thus, with accent soft began: +</p> + +<p> +“O king! to mercy be thy soul inclined,<br/> +And spare the poet’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/> +’Tis thine to merit, mine is to record.<br/> +That here I sung, was force, and not desire;<br/> +This hand reluctant touch’d the warbling wire;<br/> +And let thy son attest, nor sordid pay,<br/> +Nor servile flattery, stain’d the moral lay.” +</p> + +<p> +The moving words Telemachus attends,<br/> +His sire approaches, and the bard defends.<br/> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +Beneath a table, trembling with dismay,<br/> +Couch’d close to earth, unhappy Medon lay,<br/> +Wrapp’d in a new-slain ox’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’d his ears +</p> + +<p> +“O prince! O friend! lo, here thy Medon stands<br/> +Ah stop the hero’s unresisted hands,<br/> +Incensed too justly by that impious brood,<br/> +Whose guilty glories now are set in blood.”<br/> +To whom Ulysses with a pleasing eye: +</p> + +<p> +“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.” 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’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’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’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’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’er,<br/> +His jaws all dropping with the bull’s black gore. +</p> + +<p> +Soon as her eyes the welcome object met,<br/> +The guilty fall’n, the mighty deed complete;<br/> +A scream of joy her feeble voice essay’d;<br/> +The hero check’d her, and composedly said. +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +Then she: “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’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”—the matron cried.<br/> +“Not so (Ulysses, more sedate, replied),<br/> +Bring first the crew who wrought these guilty deeds.”<br/> +In haste the matron parts: the king proceeds;<br/> +“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’d in a long oblivion of their lust.”<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’er<br/> +(The swains unite their toil); the walls, the floor,<br/> +Wash’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’d close between the dome and wall<br/> +(Their life’s last scene) they trembling wait their fall. +</p> + +<p> +Then thus the prince: “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?” +</p> + +<p> +Thus speaking, on the circling wall he strung<br/> +A ship’s tough cable from a column hung;<br/> +Near the high top he strain’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’d away the man,<br/> +Morsel for dogs! then trimm’d with brazen shears<br/> +The wretch, and shorten’d of his nose and ears;<br/> +His hands and feet last felt the cruel steel:<br/> +He roar’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’d the king:<br/> +“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’s command.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Euryclea: “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.”<br/> +“Bring sulphur straight, and fire” (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’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’d his knee, or hand, or face;<br/> +He knows them all, in all such truth appears,<br/> +E’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’ 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> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +Touch’d at her words, the mournful queen rejoin’d:<br/> +“Ah! whither wanders thy distemper’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?—may never tongue pronounce thee more!<br/> +Begone! another might have felt our rage,<br/> +But age is sacred, and we spare thy age.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom with warmth: “My soul a lie disdains;<br/> +Ulysses lives, thy own Ulysses reigns:<br/> +That stranger, patient of the suitors’ wrongs,<br/> +And the rude license of ungovern’d tongues!<br/> +He, he is thine! Thy son his latent guest<br/> +Long knew, but lock’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.” +</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/> +“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’s hand?” +</p> + +<p> +“I saw it not (she cries), but heard alone,<br/> +When death was busy, a loud dying groan;<br/> +The damsel-train turn’d pale at every wound,<br/> +Immured we sate, and catch’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’d the hero to survey,<br/> +Stern as the surly lion o’er his prey,<br/> +Glorious in gore, now with sulphereous fire<br/> +The dome he purges, now the flame aspires;<br/> +Heap’d lie the dead without the palace walls—<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’d foes to see;<br/> +He lives to thy Telemachus and thee!” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, no! (with sighs Penelope rejoin’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’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!” +</p> + +<p> +“What words (the matron cries) have reach’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’er the watery way,<br/> +A boar, fierce rushing in the sylvan war,<br/> +Plough’d half his thigh; I saw, I saw the scar,<br/> +And wild with transport had reveal’d the wound;<br/> +But ere I spoke, he rose, and check’d the sound.<br/> +Then, daughter, haste away! and if a lie<br/> +Flow from this tongue, then let thy servant die!”<br/> +To whom with dubious joy the queen replies:<br/> +“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.”<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’d it on the ground;<br/> +Curious to hear his queen the silence break:<br/> +Amazed she sate, and impotent to speak;<br/> +O’er all the man her eyes she rolls in vain,<br/> +Now hopes, now fears, now knows, then doubts again.<br/> +At length Telemachus: “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’d of mighty woes;<br/> +To softness lost, to spousal love unknown,<br/> +The gods have formed that rigid heart of stone!”<br/> +“O my Telemachus! (the queen rejoin’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!”<br/> +Pleased with her virtuous fears, the king replies:<br/> +“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’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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/> +‘Lo! the queen weds! we hear the spousal lay!’<br/> +The suitor’s death, unknown, till we remove<br/> +Far from the court, and act inspired by Jove.” +</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/> +“Lo! the queen weds, we hear the spousal lay!<br/> +Inconstant! to admit the bridal hour.”<br/> +Thus they—but nobly chaste she weds no more. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the wearied king the bath ascends;<br/> +With faithful cares Eurynome attends,<br/> +O’er every limb a shower of fragrance sheds;<br/> +Then, dress’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/> +“And, O my queen! (he cries) what power above<br/> +Has steel’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’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’d her breast.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah no! (she cries) a tender heart I bear,<br/> +A foe to pride: no adamant is there;<br/> +And now, e’en now it melts! for sure I see<br/> +Once more Ulysses my beloved in thee!<br/> +Fix’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’d by his hand, and be it dress’d in state!” +</p> + +<p> +Thus speaks the queen, still dubious, with disguise<br/> +Touch’d at her words, the king with warmth replies<br/> +“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’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’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’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’d the branchy head: aloft in twain<br/> +Sever’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’erturn’d by rude, ungovern’d hands,<br/> +Or still inviolate the olive stands,<br/> +’Tis thine, O queen, to say, and now impart,<br/> +If fears remain, or doubts distract thy heart.” +</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’d him close, as to his breast she grew.<br/> +The tears pour’d down amain, and “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’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/> +’Twas caution, O my lord! not want of love.<br/> +Like me had Helen fear’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’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’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’s present in the spousal hour,<br/> +The sole attendant on our genial bower).<br/> +Since what no eye hath seen thy tongue reveal’d,<br/> +Hard and distrustful as I am, I yield.” +</p> + +<p> +Touch’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’d mariner, the shores<br/> +Delightful rise, when angry Neptune roars:<br/> +Then, when the surge in thunder mounts the sky,<br/> +And gulf’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’d, he views the strand,<br/> +And plunging forth with transport grasps the land:<br/> +The ravish’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’er the eastern hills with streaming light. +</p> + +<p> +At length Ulysses with a sigh replies:<br/> +“Yet Fate, yet cruel Fate repose denies;<br/> +A labour long, and hard, remains behind;<br/> +By heaven above, by hell beneath enjoin’d:<br/> +For to Tiresias through the eternal gates<br/> +Of hell I trode, to learn my future fates.<br/> +But end we here—the night demands repose,<br/> +Be deck’d the couch! and peace awhile, my woes!” +</p> + +<p> +To whom the queen: “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.” +</p> + +<p> +To this the king: “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’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’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’d.<br/> +Such future scenes the all-righteous powers display<br/> +By their dread seer, and such my future day.” +</p> + +<p> +To whom thus firm of soul: “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?” +</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’ insults, his invaded bed,<br/> +How his whole flocks and herds exhausted bled,<br/> +His generous wines dishonour’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’d he sails;<br/> +And images the rills and flowery vales!<br/> +How dash’d like dogs, his friends the Cyclops tore<br/> +(Not unrevenged), and quaff’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’d<br/> +His royal mother, pale Anticlea’s shade;<br/> +And friends in battle slain, heroic ghosts!<br/> +Then how, unharm’d, he pass’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’d the shores<br/> +Of fair Ogygia and Calypso’s bowers;<br/> +Where the gay blooming nymph constrain’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’s coast he trod,<br/> +By great Alcinous honour’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’er the eastern hills;<br/> +Uprose Ulysses from the genial bed,<br/> +And thus with thought mature the monarch said: +</p> + +<p> +“My queen, my consort! through a length of years<br/> +We drank the cup of sorrow mix’d with tears;<br/> +Thou, for thy lord; while me the immortal powers<br/> +Detain’d reluctant from my native shores.<br/> +Now, bless’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’ 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’d.<br/> +Thou with thy maids within the palace stay,<br/> +From all the scene of tumult far away!” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke, and sheathed in arms incessant flies<br/> +To wake his son, and bid his friends arise.<br/> +“To arms!” 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’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’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’d all the dismal coasts.<br/> +And now they reach’d the earth’s remotest ends,<br/> +And now the gates where evening Sol descends,<br/> +And Leucas’ rock, and Ocean’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’s son survey’d,<br/> +And loved Patroclus still attends his shade. +</p> + +<p> +New as they were to that infernal shore,<br/> +The suitors stopp’d, and gazed the hero o’er.<br/> +When, moving slow, the regal form they view’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> +“O mighty chief! (Pelides thus began)<br/> +Honour’d by Jove above the lot of man!<br/> +King of a hundred kings! to whom resign’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’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’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?” +</p> + +<p> +“O son of Peleus! greater than mankind!<br/> +(Thus Agamemnon’s kingly shade rejoin’d)<br/> +Thrice happy thou, to press the martial plain<br/> +’Midst heaps of heroes in thy quarrel slain:<br/> +In clouds of smoke raised by the noble fray,<br/> +Great and terrific e’en in death you lay,<br/> +And deluges of blood flow’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’d load,<br/> +And decent on the funeral bed bestow’d;<br/> +Then unguents sweet and tepid streams we shed;<br/> +Tears flow’d from every eye, and o’er the dead<br/> +Each clipp’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’d and obey’d<br/> +(From old experience Nestor’s counsel springs,<br/> +And long vicissitudes of human things):<br/> +‘Forbear your flight: fair Thetis from the main<br/> +To mourn Achilles leads her azure train.’<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’d<br/> +All that was mortal or immortal mourn’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’d, thy earthly part expires.<br/> +Unnumber’d warriors round the burning pile<br/> +Urge the fleet coursers or the racer’s toil;<br/> +Thick clouds of dust o’er all the circle rise,<br/> +And the mix’d clamour thunders in the skies.<br/> +Soon as absorb’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’s art enrich’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’ 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’ 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’er renown’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’d by stern Jove at home to end my life,<br/> +By cursed Ægysthus, and a faithless wife!”<br/> +Thus they: while Hermes o’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’d, and awfully withdrew.<br/> +But Agamemnon, through the gloomy shade,<br/> +His ancient host Amphimedon survey’d:<br/> +“Son of Melanthius! (he began) O say!<br/> +What cause compell’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’ cruel bands,<br/> +Drench with your blood your pillaged country’s sands?<br/> +Or well-defending some beleaguer’d wall,<br/> +Say,—for the public did ye greatly fall?<br/> +Inform thy guest: for such I was of yore<br/> +When our triumphant navies touch’d your shore;<br/> +Forced a long month the wintry seas to bear,<br/> +To move the great Ulysses to the war.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’d with pride,<br/> +Our common suit nor granted, nor denied;<br/> +But close with inward hate our deaths design’d;<br/> +Versed in all arts of wily womankind.<br/> +Her hand, laborious, in delusion spread<br/> +A spacious loom, and mix’d the various thread.<br/> +‘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’d with supreme command,<br/> +Want the last duties of a daughter’s hand.’ +</p> + +<p> +“The fiction pleased, our generous train complies,<br/> +Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue’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’d the amazing tale,<br/> +And show’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’d the radiance of the night and day. +</p> + +<p> +“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’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’d on a staff, deform’d with age and care,<br/> +And hung with rags that flutter’d in the air.<br/> +Who could Ulysses in that form behold?<br/> +Scorn’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’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’ hands;<br/> +In vain we threat; Telemachus commands:<br/> +The bow he snatch’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’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’d us all;<br/> +Ignoble cries precede the dying groans;<br/> +And battered brains and blood besmear the stones. +</p> + +<p> +“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’er the pale corse! the honours of the dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh bless’d Ulysses! (thus the king express’d<br/> +His sudden rapture) in thy consort bless’d!<br/> +Not more thy wisdom than her virtue shined;<br/> +Not more thy patience than her constant mind.<br/> +Icarius’ 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’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’en the best that bears a woman’s name.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus in the regions of eternal shade<br/> +Conferr’d the mournful phantoms of the dead;<br/> +While from the town, Ulysses and his band<br/> +Pass’d to Laertes’ 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/> +“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’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.”<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’d,<br/> +And labour’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’d around;<br/> +His head, that bow’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’d; and gloves against the thorn.<br/> +In this array the kingly gardener stood,<br/> +And clear’d a plant, encumber’d with its wood. +</p> + +<p> +Beneath a neighbouring tree, the chief divine<br/> +Gazed o’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.—<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> +“Great is thy skill, O father! great thy toil,<br/> +Thy careful hand is stamp’d on all the soil,<br/> +Thy squadron’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’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’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’s fair isle he came,<br/> +And old Laertes was his father’s name.<br/> +To him, whatever to a guest is owed<br/> +I paid, and hospitable gifts bestow’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’d silver flames,<br/> +And skill’d in female works, four lovely dames.” +</p> + +<p> +At this the father, with a father’s fears<br/> +(His venerable eyes bedimm’d with tears):<br/> +“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’d,<br/> +What years have circled since thou saw’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/> +’Twas his to suffer, and ’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’d his father o’er the untimely dead:<br/> +Nor his sad consort, on the mournful bier,<br/> +Seal’d his cold eyes, or dropp’d a tender tear! +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +Then thus the son: “From Alybas I came,<br/> +My palace there; Eperitus my name<br/> +Not vulgar born: from Aphidas, the king<br/> +Of Polyphemon’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’d, with dexter auguries,<br/> +And all the wing’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Quick through the father’s heart these accents ran;<br/> +Grief seized at once, and wrapp’d up all the man:<br/> +Deep from his soul he sigh’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’d o’er his face:<br/> +“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’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’d in our palace, by these hands lie slain.” +</p> + +<p> +Amazed, Laertes: “Give some certain sign<br/> +(If such thou art) to manifest thee mine.” +</p> + +<p> +“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’ 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’er my childish fancy ask’d, bestow’d:<br/> +Twelve pear-trees, bowing with their pendent load,<br/> +And ten, that red with blushing apples glow’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.” +</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’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/> +“Yes, I believe (he cries) almighty Jove!<br/> +Heaven rules us yet, and gods there are above.<br/> +’Tis so—the suitors for their wrongs have paid—<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?”<br/> +To this Ulysses: “As the gods shall please<br/> +Be all the rest: and set thy soul at ease.<br/> +Haste to the cottage by this orchard’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.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus, having said, they traced the garden o’er<br/> +And stooping entered at the lowly door.<br/> +The swains and young Telemachus they found.<br/> +The victim portion’d and the goblet crown’d.<br/> +The hoary king, his old Sicilian maid<br/> +Perfum’d and wash’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’er his face.<br/> +“What god (he cried) my father’s form improves!<br/> +How high he treads and how enlarged he moves!” +</p> + +<p> +“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’d.<br/> +And proud Nericus trembled as I storm’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’d the slaughter on;<br/> +Nor had the sire been separate from the son.” +</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’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/> +“Forbear your wonder, and the feast attend:<br/> +The rites have waited long.” 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: “O long, O daily mourn’d!<br/> +Beyond our hopes, and to our wish return’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’d, thy wish’d return? oh say,<br/> +To the chaste queen shall we the news convey?<br/> +Or hears she, and with blessings loads the day?” +</p> + +<p> +“Dismiss that care, for to the royal bride<br/> +Already is it known” (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’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’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’s pride,<br/> +The first who by Ulysses’ arrow died.<br/> +Down his wan cheek the trickling torrent ran,<br/> +As mixing words with sighs he thus began: +</p> + +<p> +“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.”<br/> +Here ceased he, but indignant tears let fall<br/> +Spoke when he ceased: dumb sorrow touch’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’s soft bands they broke);<br/> +And Medon first the assembled chiefs bespoke; +</p> + +<p> +“Hear me, ye peers and elders of the land,<br/> +Who deem this act the work of mortal hand;<br/> +As o’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’d his way with blood:<br/> +In vain old Mentor’s form the god belied;<br/> +’Twas Heaven that struck, and Heaven was on his side.” +</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/> +“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’d by Mentor and myself in vain);<br/> +An absent hero’s bed they sought to soil,<br/> +An absent hero’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.” +</p> + +<p> +His moderate words some better minds persuade:<br/> +They part, and join him: but the number stay’d.<br/> +They storm, they shout, with hasty frenzy fired,<br/> +And second all Eupithes’ 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’d on earth, while in the realms above<br/> +Minerva thus to cloud-compelling Jove!<br/> +“May I presume to search thy secret soul?<br/> +O Power Supreme, O Ruler of the whole!<br/> +Say, hast thou doom’d to this divided state<br/> +Or peaceful amity or stern debate?<br/> +Declare thy purpose, for thy will is fate.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is not thy thought my own? (the god replies<br/> +Who rolls the thunder o’er the vaulted skies;)<br/> +Hath not long since thy knowing soul decreed<br/> +The chief’s return should make the guilty bleed.<br/> +’Tis done, and at thy will the Fates succeed.<br/> +Yet hear the issue: Since Ulysses’ 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’d brother and the son:<br/> +Each future day increase of wealth shall bring,<br/> +And o’er the past Oblivion stretch her wing.<br/> +Long shall Ulysses in his empire rest,<br/> +His people blessing, by his people bless’d.<br/> +Let all be peace.”—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’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’ cause embrace,<br/> +And six were all the sons of Dolius’ 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’s form, the Jove-descended maid:<br/> +The suffering hero felt his patient breast<br/> +Swell with new joy, and thus his son address’d: +</p> + +<p> +“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’er the world their martial fame was spread;<br/> +Regard thyself, the living and the dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thy eyes, great father! on this battle cast,<br/> +Shall learn from me Penelope was chaste.” +</p> + +<p> +So spoke Telemachus: the gallant boy<br/> +Good old Laertes heard with panting joy.<br/> +“And bless’d! thrice bless’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!” +</p> + +<p> +Then thus Minerva in Laertes’ ear:<br/> +“Son of Arcesius, reverend warrior, hear!<br/> +Jove and Jove’s daughter first implore in prayer,<br/> +Then, whirling high, discharge thy lance in air.”<br/> +She said, infusing courage with the word.<br/> +Jove and Jove’s daughter then the chief implored,<br/> +And, whirling high, dismiss’d the lance in air.<br/> +Full at Eupithes drove the deathful spear:<br/> +The brass-cheek’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’d all;<br/> +But from on high the blue-eyed virgin cried;<br/> +Her awful voice detain’d the headlong tide:<br/> +“Forbear, ye nations, your mad hands forbear<br/> +From mutual slaughter; Peace descends to spare.”<br/> +Fear shook the nations: at the voice divine<br/> +They drop their javelins, and their rage resign.<br/> +All scatter’d round their glittering weapons lie;<br/> +Some fall to earth, and some confusedly fly.<br/> +With dreadful shouts Ulysses pour’d along,<br/> +Swift as an eagle, as an eagle strong.<br/> +But Jove’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> +“Descended from the gods! Ulysses, cease;<br/> +Offend not Jove: obey, and give the peace.” +</p> + +<p> +So Pallas spoke: the mandate from above<br/> +The king obey’d. The virgin-seed of Jove,<br/> +In Mentor’s form, confirm’d the full accord,<br/> +And willing nations knew their lawful lord. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ODYSSEY ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. +</div> + +<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person +or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: +</div> + +<blockquote> + <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> +</blockquote> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: +</div> + +<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + </div> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread +public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state +visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +</div> + +</div> + +</body> + +</html> + + |