автордың кітабын онлайн тегін оқу  10 Masterpieces You Have to Read Before You Die, Vol.5. Illustrated

Homer, Aristotle, Leo Tolstoy, Plato, Marcus Aurelius, Dante Alighieri, Niccolò Machiavelli, Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Muse make the man thy theme, for shrewdness famed

And genius versatile, who far and wide

A Wand'rer, after Ilium overthrown,

Discover'd various cities, and the mind

And manners learn'd of men, in lands remote.

He num'rous woes on Ocean toss'd, endured,

Anxious to save himself, and to conduct

His followers to their home; yet all his care

Preserved them not; they perish'd self-destroy'd

By their own fault; infatuate! who devoured

10 The oxen of the all-o'erseeing Sun,

And, punish'd for that crime, return'd no more.

Daughter divine of Jove, these things record,

As it may please thee, even in our ears.

The rest, all those who had perdition 'scaped

By war or on the Deep, dwelt now at home;

Him only, of his country and his wife

Alike desirous, in her hollow grots

Calypso, Goddess beautiful, detained

Wooing him to her arms. But when, at length,

20 (Many a long year elapsed) the year arrived

Of his return (by the decree of heav'n)

To Ithaca, not even then had he,

Although surrounded by his people, reach'd

The period of his suff'rings and his toils.

Yet all the Gods, with pity moved, beheld

His woes, save Neptune; He alone with wrath

Unceasing and implacable pursued

Godlike Ulysses to his native shores.

But Neptune, now, the Æthiopians fought,

30 (The Æthiopians, utmost of mankind,

These Eastward situate, those toward the West)

Call'd to an hecatomb of bulls and lambs.

There sitting, pleas'd he banqueted; the Gods

In Jove's abode, meantime, assembled all,

'Midst whom the Sire of heav'n and earth began.

For he recall'd to mind Ægisthus slain

By Agamemnon's celebrated son

Orestes, and retracing in his thought

That dread event, the Immortals thus address'd.

40 Alas! how prone are human-kind to blame

The Pow'rs of Heav'n! From us, they say, proceed

The ills which they endure, yet more than Fate

Herself inflicts, by their own crimes incur.

So now Ægisthus, by no force constrained

Of Destiny, Atrides' wedded wife

Took to himself, and him at his return

Slew, not unwarn'd of his own dreadful end

By us: for we commanded Hermes down

The watchful Argicide, who bade him fear

50 Alike, to slay the King, or woo the Queen.

For that Atrides' son Orestes, soon

As grown mature, and eager to assume

His sway imperial, should avenge the deed.

So Hermes spake, but his advice moved not

Ægisthus, on whose head the whole arrear

Of vengeance heap'd, at last, hath therefore fall'n.

Whom answer'd then Pallas cærulean-eyed.

Oh Jove, Saturnian Sire, o'er all supreme!

And well he merited the death he found;

60 So perish all, who shall, like him, offend.

But with a bosom anguish-rent I view

Ulysses, hapless Chief! who from his friends

Remote, affliction hath long time endured

In yonder woodland isle, the central boss

Of Ocean. That retreat a Goddess holds,

Daughter of sapient Atlas, who the abyss

Knows to its bottom, and the pillars high

Himself upbears which sep'rate earth from heav'n.

His daughter, there, the sorrowing Chief detains,

70 And ever with smooth speech insidious seeks

To wean his heart from Ithaca; meantime

Ulysses, happy might he but behold

The smoke ascending from his native land,

Death covets. Canst thou not, Olympian Jove!

At last relent? Hath not Ulysses oft

With victims slain amid Achaia's fleet

Thee gratified, while yet at Troy he fought?

How hath he then so deep incensed thee, Jove?

To whom, the cloud-assembler God replied.

80 What word hath pass'd thy lips, Daughter belov'd?

Can I forget Ulysses? Him forget

So noble, who in wisdom all mankind

Excels, and who hath sacrific'd so oft

To us whose dwelling is the boundless heav'n?

Earth-circling Neptune-He it is whose wrath

Pursues him ceaseless for the Cyclops' sake

Polypheme, strongest of the giant race,

Whom of his eye Ulysses hath deprived.

For Him, Thoösa bore, Nymph of the sea

90 From Phorcys sprung, by Ocean's mighty pow'r

Impregnated in caverns of the Deep.

E'er since that day, the Shaker of the shores,

Although he slay him not, yet devious drives

Ulysses from his native isle afar.

Yet come-in full assembly his return

Contrive we now, both means and prosp'rous end;

So Neptune shall his wrath remit, whose pow'r

In contest with the force of all the Gods

Exerted single, can but strive in vain.

100 To whom Minerva, Goddess azure-eyed.

Oh Jupiter! above all Kings enthroned!

If the Immortals ever-blest ordain

That wise Ulysses to his home return,

Dispatch we then Hermes the Argicide,

Our messenger, hence to Ogygia's isle,

Who shall inform Calypso, nymph divine,

Of this our fixt resolve, that to his home

Ulysses, toil-enduring Chief, repair.

Myself will hence to Ithaca, meantime,

110 His son to animate, and with new force

Inspire, that (the Achaians all convened

In council,) he may, instant, bid depart

The suitors from his home, who, day by day,

His num'rous flocks and fatted herds consume.

And I will send him thence to Sparta forth,

And into sandy Pylus, there to hear

(If hear he may) some tidings of his Sire,

And to procure himself a glorious name.

This said, her golden sandals to her feet

120 She bound, ambrosial, which o'er all the earth

And o'er the moist flood waft her fleet as air,

Then, seizing her strong spear pointed with brass,

In length and bulk, and weight a matchless beam,

With which the Jove-born Goddess levels ranks

Of Heroes, against whom her anger burns,

From the Olympian summit down she flew,

And on the threshold of Ulysses' hall

In Ithaca, and within his vestibule

Apparent stood; there, grasping her bright spear,

130 Mentes[1] she seem'd, the hospitable Chief

Of Taphos' isle-she found the haughty throng

The suitors; they before the palace gate

With iv'ry cubes sported, on num'rous hides

Reclined of oxen which themselves had slain.

The heralds and the busy menials there

Minister'd to them; these their mantling cups

With water slaked; with bibulous sponges those

Made clean the tables, set the banquet on,

And portioned out to each his plenteous share.

140 Long ere the rest Telemachus himself

Mark'd her, for sad amid them all he sat,

Pourtraying in deep thought contemplative

His noble Sire, and questioning if yet

Perchance the Hero might return to chase

From all his palace that imperious herd,

To his own honour lord of his own home.

Amid them musing thus, sudden he saw

The Goddess, and sprang forth, for he abhorr'd

To see a guest's admittance long delay'd;

150 Approaching eager, her right hand he seized,

The brazen spear took from her, and in words

With welcome wing'd Minerva thus address'd.

Stranger, all hail! to share our cordial love

Thou com'st; the banquet finish'd, thou shalt next

Inform me wherefore thou hast here arrived.

So saying, toward the spacious hall he moved,

Follow'd by Pallas, and, arriving soon

Beneath the lofty roof, placed her bright spear

Within a pillar's cavity, long time

160 The armoury where many a spear had stood,

Bright weapons of his own illustrious Sire.

Then, leading her toward a footstool'd throne

Magnificent, which first he overspread

With linen, there he seated her, apart

From that rude throng, and for himself disposed

A throne of various colours at her side,

Lest, stunn'd with clamour of the lawless band,

The new-arrived should loth perchance to eat,

And that more free he might the stranger's ear

170 With questions of his absent Sire address,

And now a maiden charg'd with golden ew'r,

And with an argent laver, pouring first

Pure water on their hands, supplied them, next,

With a resplendent table, which the chaste

Directress of the stores furnish'd with bread

And dainties, remnants of the last regale.

Then, in his turn, the sewer[2] with sav'ry meats,

Dish after dish, served them, of various kinds,

And golden cups beside the chargers placed,

180 Which the attendant herald fill'd with wine.

Ere long, in rush'd the suitors, and the thrones

And couches occupied, on all whose hands

The heralds pour'd pure water; then the maids

Attended them with bread in baskets heap'd,

And eager they assail'd the ready feast.

At length, when neither thirst nor hunger more

They felt unsatisfied, to new delights

Their thoughts they turn'd, to song and sprightly dance,

Enlivening sequel of the banquet's joys.

190 An herald, then, to Phemius' hand consign'd

His beauteous lyre; he through constraint regaled

The suitors with his song, and while the chords

He struck in prelude to his pleasant strains,

Telemachus his head inclining nigh

To Pallas' ear, lest others should his words

Witness, the blue-eyed Goddess thus bespake.

My inmate and my friend! far from my lips

Be ev'ry word that might displease thine ear!

The song-the harp, — what can they less than charm

200 These wantons? who the bread unpurchased eat

Of one whose bones on yonder continent

Lie mould'ring, drench'd by all the show'rs of heaven,

Or roll at random in the billowy deep.

Ah! could they see him once to his own isle

Restored, both gold and raiment they would wish

Far less, and nimbleness of foot instead.

But He, alas! hath by a wretched fate,

Past question perish'd, and what news soe'er

We hear of his return, kindles no hope

210 In us, convinced that he returns no more.

But answer undissembling; tell me true;

Who art thou? whence? where stands thy city? where

Thy father's mansion? In what kind of ship

Cam'st thou? Why steer'd the mariners their course

To Ithaca, and of what land are they?

For that on foot thou found'st us not, is sure.

This also tell me, hast thou now arrived

New to our isle, or wast thou heretofore

My father's guest? Since many to our house

220 Resorted in those happier days, for he

Drew pow'rful to himself the hearts of all.

Then Pallas thus, Goddess cærulean-eyed.

I will with all simplicity of truth

Thy questions satisfy. Behold in me

Mentes, the offspring of a Chief renown'd

In war, Anchialus; and I rule, myself,

An island race, the Taphians oar-expert.

With ship and mariners I now arrive,

Seeking a people of another tongue

230 Athwart the gloomy flood, in quest of brass

For which I barter steel, ploughing the waves

To Temesa. My ship beneath the woods

Of Neïus, at yonder field that skirts

Your city, in the haven Rhethrus rides.

We are hereditary guests; our Sires

Were friends long since; as, when thou seest him next,

The Hero old Laertes will avouch,

Of whom, I learn, that he frequents no more

The city now, but in sequester'd scenes

240 Dwells sorrowful, and by an antient dame

With food and drink supplied oft as he feels

Refreshment needful to him, while he creeps

Between the rows of his luxuriant vines.

But I have come drawn hither by report,

Which spake thy Sire arrived, though still it seems

The adverse Gods his homeward course retard.

For not yet breathless lies the noble Chief,

But in some island of the boundless flood

Resides a prisoner, by barbarous force

250 Of some rude race detained reluctant there.

And I will now foreshow thee what the Gods

Teach me, and what, though neither augur skill'd

Nor prophet, I yet trust shall come to pass.

He shall not, henceforth, live an exile long

From his own shores, no, not although in bands

Of iron held, but will ere long contrive

His own return; for in expedients, framed

With wond'rous ingenuity, he abounds.

But tell me true; art thou, in stature such,

260 Son of himself Ulysses? for thy face

And eyes bright-sparkling, strongly indicate

Ulysses in thee. Frequent have we both

Conversed together thus, thy Sire and I,

Ere yet he went to Troy, the mark to which

So many Princes of Achaia steer'd.

Him since I saw not, nor Ulysses me.

To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.

Stranger! I tell thee true; my mother's voice

Affirms me his, but since no mortal knows

270 His derivation, I affirm it not.

Would I had been son of some happier Sire,

Ordain'd in calm possession of his own

To reach the verge of life. But now, report

Proclaims me his, whom I of all mankind

Unhappiest deem.-Thy question is resolved.

Then answer thus Pallas blue-eyed return'd.

From no ignoble race, in future days,

The Gods shall prove thee sprung, whom so endow'd

With ev'ry grace Penelope hath borne.

280 But tell me true. What festival is this?

This throng-whence are they? wherefore hast thou need

Of such a multitude? Behold I here

A banquet, or a nuptial? for these

Meet not by contribution[3] to regale,

With such brutality and din they hold

Their riotous banquet! a wise man and good

Arriving, now, among them, at the sight

Of such enormities would much be wroth.

To whom replied Telemachus discrete.

290 Since, stranger! thou hast ask'd, learn also this.

While yet Ulysses, with his people dwelt,

His presence warranted the hope that here

Virtue should dwell and opulence; but heav'n

Hath cast for us, at length, a diff'rent lot,

And he is lost, as never man before.

For I should less lament even his death,

Had he among his friends at Ilium fall'n,

Or in the arms of his companions died,

Troy's siege accomplish'd. Then his tomb the Greeks

300 Of ev'ry tribe had built, and for his son,

He had immortal glory atchieved; but now,

By harpies torn inglorious, beyond reach

Of eye or ear he lies; and hath to me

Grief only, and unceasing sighs bequeath'd.

Nor mourn I for his sake alone; the Gods

Have plann'd for me still many a woe beside;

For all the rulers of the neighbour isles,

Samos, Dulichium, and the forest-crown'd

Zacynthus, others also, rulers here

310 In craggy Ithaca, my mother seek

In marriage, and my household stores consume.

But neither she those nuptial rites abhorr'd,

Refuses absolute, nor yet consents

To end them; they my patrimony waste

Meantime, and will not long spare even me.

To whom, with deep commiseration pang'd,

Pallas replied. Alas! great need hast thou

Of thy long absent father to avenge

These num'rous wrongs; for could he now appear

320 There, at yon portal, arm'd with helmet, shield,

And grasping his two spears, such as when first

I saw him drinking joyous at our board,

From Ilus son of Mermeris, who dwelt

In distant Ephyre, just then return'd,

(For thither also had Ulysses gone

In his swift bark, seeking some pois'nous drug

Wherewith to taint his brazen arrows keen,

Which drug through fear of the eternal Gods

Ilus refused him, and my father free

330 Gave to him, for he loved him past belief)

Could now, Ulysses, clad in arms as then,

Mix with these suitors, short his date of life

To each, and bitter should his nuptials prove.

But these events, whether he shall return

To take just vengeance under his own roof,

Or whether not, lie all in the Gods lap.

Meantime I counsel thee, thyself to think

By what means likeliest thou shalt expel

These from thy doors. Now mark me: close attend.

340 To-morrow, summoning the Grecian Chiefs

To council, speak to them, and call the Gods

To witness that solemnity. Bid go

The suitors hence, each to his own abode.

Thy mother-if her purpose be resolved

On marriage, let her to the house return

Of her own potent father, who, himself,

Shall furnish forth her matrimonial rites,

And ample dow'r, such as it well becomes

A darling daughter to receive, bestow.

350 But hear me now; thyself I thus advise.

The prime of all thy ships preparing, mann'd

With twenty rowers, voyage hence to seek

Intelligence of thy long-absent Sire.

Some mortal may inform thee, or a word,[4]

Perchance, by Jove directed (safest source

Of notice to mankind) may reach thine ear.

First voyaging to Pylus, there enquire

Of noble Nestor; thence to Sparta tend,

To question Menelaus amber-hair'd,

360 Latest arrived of all the host of Greece.

There should'st thou learn that still thy father lives,

And hope of his return, although

Distress'd, thou wilt be patient yet a year.

But should'st thou there hear tidings that he breathes

No longer, to thy native isle return'd,

First heap his tomb; then with such pomp perform

His funeral rites as his great name demands,

And make thy mother's spousals, next, thy care.

These duties satisfied, delib'rate last

370 Whether thou shalt these troublers of thy house

By stratagem, or by assault, destroy.

For thou art now no child, nor longer may'st

Sport like one. Hast thou not the proud report

Heard, how Orestes hath renown acquired

With all mankind, his father's murtherer

Ægisthus slaying, the deceiver base

Who slaughter'd Agamemnon? Oh my friend!

(For with delight thy vig'rous growth I view,

And just proportion) be thou also bold,

380 And merit praise from ages yet to come.

But I will to my vessel now repair,

And to my mariners, whom, absent long,

I may perchance have troubled. Weigh thou well

My counsel; let not my advice be lost.

To whom Telemachus discrete replied.

Stranger! thy words bespeak thee much my friend,

Who, as a father teaches his own son,

Hast taught me, and I never will forget.

But, though in haste thy voyage to pursue,

390 Yet stay, that in the bath refreshing first

Thy limbs now weary, thou may'st sprightlier seek

Thy gallant bark, charged with some noble gift

Of finish'd workmanship, which thou shalt keep

As my memorial ever; such a boon

As men confer on guests whom much they love.

Then Pallas thus, Goddess cærulean-eyed.

Retard me not, for go I must; the gift

Which liberal thou desirest to bestow,

Give me at my return, that I may bear

400 The treasure home; and, in exchange, thyself

Expect some gift equivalent from me.

She spake, and as with eagle-wings upborne,

Vanish'd incontinent, but him inspired

With daring fortitude, and on his heart

Dearer remembrance of his Sire impress'd

Than ever. Conscious of the wond'rous change,

Amazed he stood, and, in his secret thought

Revolving all, believed his guest a God.

The youthful Hero to the suitors then

410 Repair'd; they silent, listen'd to the song

Of the illustrious Bard: he the return

Deplorable of the Achaian host

From Ilium by command of Pallas, sang.

Penelope, Icarius' daughter, mark'd

Meantime the song celestial, where she sat

In the superior palace; down she came,

By all the num'rous steps of her abode;

Not sole, for two fair handmaids follow'd her.

She then, divinest of her sex, arrived

420 In presence of that lawless throng, beneath

The portal of her stately mansion stood,

Between her maidens, with her lucid veil

Her lovely features mantling. There, profuse

She wept, and thus the sacred bard bespake.

Phemius! for many a sorrow-soothing strain

Thou know'st beside, such as exploits record

Of Gods and men, the poet's frequent theme;

Give them of those a song, and let themselves

Their wine drink noiseless; but this mournful strain

430 Break off, unfriendly to my bosom's peace,

And which of all hearts nearest touches mine,

With such regret my dearest Lord I mourn,

Rememb'ring still an husband praised from side

To side, and in the very heart of Greece.

Then answer thus Telemachus return'd.

My mother! wherefore should it give thee pain

If the delightful bard that theme pursue

To which he feels his mind impell'd? the bard

Blame not, but rather Jove, who, as he wills,

440 Materials for poetic art supplies.

No fault is his, if the disastrous fate

He sing of the Achaians, for the song

Wins ever from the hearers most applause

That has been least in use. Of all who fought

At Troy, Ulysses hath not lost, alone,

His day of glad return; but many a Chief

Hath perish'd also. Seek thou then again

Thy own apartment, spindle ply and loom,

And task thy maidens; management belongs

450 To men of joys convivial, and of men

Especially to me, chief ruler here.

She heard astonish'd; and the prudent speech

Reposing of her son deep in her heart,

Again with her attendant maidens sought

Her upper chamber. There arrived, she wept

Her lost Ulysses, till Minerva bathed

Her weary lids in dewy sleep profound.

Then echoed through the palace dark-bedimm'd

With evening shades the suitors boist'rous roar,

460 For each the royal bed burn'd to partake,

Whom thus Telemachus discrete address'd.

All ye my mother's suitors, though addict

To contumacious wrangling fierce, suspend

Your clamour, for a course to me it seems

More decent far, when such a bard as this,

Godlike, for sweetness, sings, to hear his song.

To-morrow meet we in full council all,

That I may plainly warn you to depart

From this our mansion. Seek ye where ye may

470 Your feasts; consume your own; alternate feed

Each at the other's cost; but if it seem

Wisest in your account and best, to eat

Voracious thus the patrimonial goods

Of one man, rend'ring no account of all,[5]

Bite to the roots; but know that I will cry

Ceaseless to the eternal Gods, in hope

That Jove, for retribution of the wrong,

Shall doom you, where ye have intruded, there

To bleed, and of your blood ask no account.

480 He ended, and each gnaw'd his lip, aghast

At his undaunted hardiness of speech.

Then thus Antinoüs spake, Eupithes' son.

Telemachus! the Gods, methinks, themselves

Teach thee sublimity, and to pronounce

Thy matter fearless. Ah forbid it, Jove!

That one so eloquent should with the weight

Of kingly cares in Ithaca be charged,

A realm, by claim hereditary, thine.

Then prudent thus Telemachus replied.

490 Although my speech Antinoüs may, perchance,

Provoke thee, know that I am not averse

From kingly cares, if Jove appoint me such.

Seems it to thee a burthen to be fear'd

By men above all others? trust me, no,

There is no ill in royalty; the man

So station'd, waits not long ere he obtain

Riches and honour. But I grant that Kings

Of the Achaians may no few be found

In sea-girt Ithaca both young and old,

500 Of whom since great Ulysses is no more,

Reign whoso may; but King, myself, I am

In my own house, and over all my own

Domestics, by Ulysses gained for me.

To whom Eurymachus replied, the son

Of Polybus. What Grecian Chief shall reign

In sea-girt Ithaca, must be referr'd

To the Gods' will, Telemachus! meantime

Thou hast unquestionable right to keep

Thy own, and to command in thy own house.

510 May never that man on her shores arrive,

While an inhabitant shall yet be left

In Ithaca, who shall by violence wrest

Thine from thee. But permit me, noble Sir!

To ask thee of thy guest. Whence came the man?

What country claims him? Where are to be found

His kindred and his patrimonial fields?

Brings he glad tidings of thy Sire's approach

Homeward? or came he to receive a debt

Due to himself? How swift he disappear'd!

520 Nor opportunity to know him gave

To those who wish'd it; for his face and air

Him speak not of Plebeian birth obscure.

Whom answered thus Telemachus discrete.

Eurymachus! my father comes no more.

I can no longer now tidings believe,

If such arrive; nor he'd I more the song

Of sooth-sayers whom my mother may consult.

But this my guest hath known in other days

My father, and he came from Taphos, son

530 Of brave Anchialus, Mentes by name,

And Chief of the sea-practis'd Taphian race.

So spake Telemachus, but in his heart

Knew well his guest a Goddess from the skies.

Then they to dance and heart-enlivening song

Turn'd joyous, waiting the approach of eve,

And dusky evening found them joyous still.

Then each, to his own house retiring, sought

Needful repose. Meantime Telemachus

To his own lofty chamber, built in view

540 Of the wide hall, retired; but with a heart

In various musings occupied intense.

Sage Euryclea, bearing in each hand

A torch, preceded him; her sire was Ops,

Pisenor's son, and, in her early prime,

At his own cost Laertes made her his,

Paying with twenty beeves her purchase-price,

Nor in less honour than his spotless wife

He held her ever, but his consort's wrath

Fearing, at no time call'd her to his bed.

550 She bore the torches, and with truer heart

Loved him than any of the female train,

For she had nurs'd him in his infant years.

He open'd his broad chamber-valves, and sat

On his couch-side: then putting off his vest

Of softest texture, placed it in the hands

Of the attendant dame discrete, who first

Folding it with exactest care, beside

His bed suspended it, and, going forth,

Drew by its silver ring the portal close,

560 And fasten'd it with bolt and brace secure.

There lay Telemachus, on finest wool

Reposed, contemplating all night his course

Prescribed by Pallas to the Pylian shore.

Aurora, rosy daughter of the dawn,

Now ting'd the East, when habited again,

Uprose Ulysses' offspring from his bed.

Athwart his back his faulchion keen he flung,

His sandals bound to his unsullied feet,

And, godlike, issued from his chamber-door.

At once the clear-voic'd heralds he enjoin'd

To call the Greeks to council; they aloud

Gave forth the summons, and the throng began.

When all were gather'd, and the assembly full,

10 Himself, his hand arm'd with a brazen spear,

Went also; nor alone he went; his hounds

Fleet-footed follow'd him, a faithful pair.

O'er all his form Minerva largely shed

Majestic grace divine, and, as he went,

The whole admiring concourse gaz'd on him,

The seniors gave him place, and down he sat

On his paternal Throne. Then grave arose

The Hero, old Ægyptius; bow'd with age

Was he, and by experience deep-inform'd.

20 His son had with Ulysses, godlike Chief,

On board his fleet to steed-fam'd Ilium gone,

The warrior Antiphus, whom in his cave

The savage Cyclops slew, and on his flesh

At ev'ning made obscene his last regale.

Three sons he had beside, a suitor one,

Eurynomus; the other two, employ

Found constant managing their Sire's concerns.

Yet he forgat not, father as he was

Of these, his absent eldest, whom he mourn'd

3 °Ceaseless, and thus his speech, weeping, began.

Hear me, ye men of Ithaca, my friends!

Nor council here nor session hath been held

Since great Ulysses left his native shore.

Who now convenes us? what especial need

Hath urged him, whether of our youth he be,

Or of our senators by age matured?

Have tidings reach'd him of our host's return,

Which here he would divulge? or brings he aught

Of public import on a diff'rent theme?

40 I deem him, whosoe'er he be, a man

Worthy to prosper, and may Jove vouchsafe

The full performance of his chief desire!

He ended, and Telemachus rejoiced

In that good omen. Ardent to begin,

He sat not long, but, moving to the midst,

Received the sceptre from Pisenor's hand,

His prudent herald, and addressing, next,

The hoary Chief Ægyptius, thus began.

Not far remote, as thou shalt soon thyself

50 Perceive, oh venerable Chief! he stands,

Who hath convened this council. I, am He.

I am in chief the suff'rer. Tidings none

Of the returning host I have received,

Which here I would divulge, nor bring I aught

Of public import on a different theme,

But my own trouble, on my own house fall'n,

And twofold fall'n. One is, that I have lost

A noble father, who, as fathers rule

Benign their children, govern'd once yourselves;

60 The other, and the more alarming ill,

With ruin threatens my whole house, and all

My patrimony with immediate waste.

Suitors, (their children who in this our isle

Hold highest rank) importunate besiege

My mother, though desirous not to wed,

And rather than resort to her own Sire

Icarius, who might give his daughter dow'r,

And portion her to whom he most approves,

(A course which, only named, moves their disgust)

70 They chuse, assembling all within my gates

Daily to make my beeves, my sheep, my goats

Their banquet, and to drink without restraint

My wine; whence ruin threatens us and ours;

For I have no Ulysses to relieve

Me and my family from this abuse.

Ourselves are not sufficient; we, alas!

Too feeble should be found, and yet to learn

How best to use the little force we own;

Else, had I pow'r, I would, myself, redress

80 The evil; for it now surpasses far

All suff'rance, now they ravage uncontroul'd,

Nor show of decency vouchsafe me more.

Oh be ashamed[6] yourselves; blush at the thought

Of such reproach as ye shall sure incur

From all our neighbour states, and fear beside

The wrath of the Immortals, lest they call

Yourselves one day to a severe account.

I pray you by Olympian Jove, by her

Whose voice convenes all councils, and again

90 Dissolves them, Themis, that henceforth ye cease,

That ye permit me, oh my friends! to wear

My days in solitary grief away,

Unless Ulysses, my illustrious Sire,

Hath in his anger any Greecian wrong'd,

Whose wrongs ye purpose to avenge on me,

Inciting these to plague me. Better far

Were my condition, if yourselves consumed

My substance and my revenue; from you

I might obtain, perchance, righteous amends

100 Hereafter; you I might with vehement suit

O'ercome, from house to house pleading aloud

For recompense, till I at last prevail'd.

But now, with darts of anguish ye transfix

My inmost soul, and I have no redress.

He spake impassion'd, and to earth cast down

His sceptre, weeping. Pity at that sight

Seiz'd all the people; mute the assembly sat

Long time, none dared to greet Telemachus

With answer rough, till of them all, at last,

110 Antinoüs, sole arising, thus replied.

Telemachus, intemp'rate in harangue,

High-sounding orator! it is thy drift

To make us all odious; but the offence

Lies not with us the suitors; she alone

Thy mother, who in subtlety excels,

And deep-wrought subterfuge, deserves the blame.

It is already the third year, and soon

Shall be the fourth, since with delusive art

Practising on their minds, she hath deceived

120 The Greecians; message after message sent

Brings hope to each, by turns, and promise fair,

But she, meantime, far otherwise intends.

Her other arts exhausted all, she framed

This stratagem; a web of amplest size

And subtlest woof beginning, thus she spake.

Princes, my suitors! since the noble Chief

Ulysses is no more, press not as yet

My nuptials, wait till I shall finish, first,

A fun'ral robe (lest all my threads decay)

130 Which for the antient Hero I prepare,

Laertes, looking for the mournful hour

When fate shall snatch him to eternal rest;

Else I the censure dread of all my sex,

Should he, so wealthy, want at last a shroud.

So spake the Queen, and unsuspicious, we

With her request complied. Thenceforth, all day

She wove the ample web, and by the aid

Of torches ravell'd it again at night.

Three years by such contrivance she deceived

140 The Greecians; but when (three whole years elaps'd)

The fourth arriv'd, then, conscious of the fraud,

A damsel of her train told all the truth,

And her we found rav'ling the beauteous work.

Thus, through necessity she hath, at length,

Perform'd the task, and in her own despight.

Now therefore, for the information clear

Of thee thyself, and of the other Greeks,

We answer. Send thy mother hence, with charge

That him she wed on whom her father's choice

150 Shall fall, and whom she shall, herself, approve.

But if by long procrastination still

She persevere wearing our patience out,

Attentive only to display the gifts

By Pallas so profusely dealt to her,

Works of surpassing skill, ingenious thought,

And subtle shifts, such as no beauteous Greek

(For aught that we have heard) in antient times

E'er practised, Tyro, or Alcemena fair,

Or fair Mycene, of whom none in art

160 E'er match'd Penelope, although we yield

To this her last invention little praise,

Then know, that these her suitors will consume

So long thy patrimony and thy goods,

As she her present purpose shall indulge,

With which the Gods inspire her. Great renown

She to herself insures, but equal woe

And devastation of thy wealth to thee;

For neither to our proper works at home

Go we, of that be sure, nor yet elsewhere,

170 Till him she wed, to whom she most inclines.

Him prudent, then, answer'd Telemachus.

Antinoüs! it is not possible

That I should thrust her forth against her will,

Who both produced and reared me. Be he dead,

Or still alive, my Sire is far remote,

And should I, voluntary, hence dismiss

My mother to Icarius, I must much

Refund, which hardship were and loss to me.

So doing, I should also wrath incur

180 From my offended Sire, and from the Gods

Still more; for she, departing, would invoke

Erynnis to avenge her, and reproach

Beside would follow me from all mankind.

That word I, therefore, never will pronounce.

No, if ye judge your treatment at her hands

Injurious to you, go ye forth yourselves,

Forsake my mansion; seek where else ye may

Your feasts; consume your own; alternate feed

Each at the other's cost. But if it seem

190 Wisest in your account and best to eat

Voracious thus the patrimonial goods

Of one man, rend'ring no account of all,

Bite to the roots; but know that I will cry

Ceaseless to the eternal Gods, in hope

That Jove, in retribution of the wrong,

Shall doom you, where ye have intruded, there

To bleed, and of your blood ask no account.

So spake Telemachus, and while he spake,

The Thund'rer from a lofty mountain-top

200 Turn'd off two eagles; on the winds, awhile,

With outspread pinions ample side by side

They floated; but, ere long, hov'ring aloft,

Right o'er the midst of the assembled Chiefs

They wheel'd around, clang'd all their num'rous plumes,

And with a downward look eyeing the throng,

Death boded, ominous; then rending each

The other's face and neck, they sprang at once

Toward the right, and darted through the town.

Amazement universal, at that sight,

210 Seized the assembly, and with anxious thought

Each scann'd the future; amidst whom arose

The Hero Halitherses, antient Seer,

Offspring of Mastor; for in judgment he

Of portents augural, and in forecast

Unerring, his coevals all excell'd,

And prudent thus the multitude bespake.

Ye men of Ithaca, give ear! hear all!

Though chief my speech shall to the suitors look,

For, on their heads devolved, comes down the woe.

220 Ulysses shall not from his friends, henceforth,

Live absent long, but, hasting to his home,

Comes even now, and as he comes, designs

A bloody death for these, whose bitter woes

No few shall share, inhabitants with us

Of pleasant Ithaca; but let us frame

Effectual means maturely to suppress

Their violent deeds, or rather let themselves

Repentant cease; and soonest shall be best.

Not inexpert, but well-inform'd I speak

230 The future, and the accomplishment announce

Of all which when Ulysses with the Greeks

Embark'd for Troy, I to himself foretold.

I said that, after many woes, and loss

Of all his people, in the twentieth year,

Unknown to all, he should regain his home,

And my prediction shall be now fulfill'd.

Him, then, Eurymachus thus answer'd rough

The son of Polybus. Hence to thy house,

Thou hoary dotard! there, prophetic, teach

240 Thy children to escape woes else to come.

Birds num'rous flutter in the beams of day,

Not all predictive. Death, far hence remote

Hath found Ulysses, and I would to heav'n

That, where he died, thyself had perish'd too.

Thou hadst not then run o'er with prophecy

As now, nor provocation to the wrath

Giv'n of Telemachus, in hope to win,

Perchance, for thine some favour at his hands.

But I to thee foretell, skilled as thou art

250 In legends old, (nor shall my threat be vain)

That if by artifice thou move to wrath

A younger than thyself, no matter whom,

Woe first the heavier on himself shall fall,

Nor shalt thou profit him by thy attempt,

And we will charge thee also with a mulct,

Which thou shalt pay with difficulty, and bear

The burthen of it with an aching heart.

As for Telemachus, I him advise,

Myself, and press the measure on his choice

260 Earnestly, that he send his mother hence

To her own father's house, who shall, himself,

Set forth her nuptial rites, and shall endow

His daughter sumptuously, and as he ought.

For this expensive wooing, as I judge,

Till then shall never cease; since we regard

No man-no-not Telemachus, although

In words exub'rant; neither fear we aught

Thy vain prognostics, venerable sir!

But only hate thee for their sake the more.

270 Waste will continue and disorder foul

Unremedied, so long as she shall hold

The suitors in suspense, for, day by day,

Our emulation goads us to the strife,

Nor shall we, going hence, seek to espouse

Each his own comfort suitable elsewhere.

To whom, discrete, Telemachus replied.

Eurymachus, and ye the suitor train

Illustrious, I have spoken: ye shall hear

No more this supplication urged by me.

280 The Gods, and all the Greeks, now know the truth.

But give me instantly a gallant bark

With twenty rowers, skill'd their course to win

To whatsoever haven; for I go

To sandy Pylus, and shall hasten thence

To Lacedemon, tidings to obtain

Of my long-absent Sire, or from the lips

Of man, or by a word from Jove vouchsafed

Himself, best source of notice to mankind.

If, there inform'd that still my father lives,

290 I hope conceive of his return, although

Distress'd, I shall be patient yet a year.

But should I learn, haply, that he survives

No longer, then, returning, I will raise

At home his tomb, will with such pomp perform

His fun'ral rites, as his great name demands,

And give my mother's hand to whom I may.

This said, he sat, and after him arose

Mentor, illustrious Ulysses' friend,

To whom, embarking thence, he had consign'd

300 All his concerns, that the old Chief might rule

His family, and keep the whole secure.

Arising, thus the senior, sage, began.

Hear me, ye Ithacans! be never King

Henceforth, benevolent, gracious, humane

Or righteous, but let every sceptred hand

Rule merciless, and deal in wrong alone,

Since none of all his people, whom he sway'd

With such paternal gentleness and love,

Remembers the divine Ulysses more!

310 That the imperious suitors thus should weave

The web of mischief and atrocious wrong,

I grudge not; since at hazard of their heads

They make Ulysses' property a prey,

Persuaded that the Hero comes no more.

But much the people move me; how ye sit

All mute, and though a multitude, yourselves,

Opposed to few, risque not a single word

To check the license of these bold intruders!

Then thus Liocritus, Evenor's son.

320 Injurious Mentor! headlong orator!

How dar'st thou move the populace against

The suitors? Trust me they should find it hard,

Numerous as they are, to cope with us,

A feast the prize. Or should the King himself

Of Ithaca, returning, undertake

T' expell the jovial suitors from his house,

Much as Penelope his absence mourns,

His presence should afford her little joy;

For fighting sole with many, he should meet

330 A dreadful death. Thou, therefore, speak'st amiss.

As for Telemachus, let Mentor him

And Halytherses furnish forth, the friends

Long valued of his Sire, with all dispatch;

Though him I judge far likelier to remain

Long-time contented an enquirer here,

Than to perform the voyage now proposed.

Thus saying, Liocritus dissolved in haste

The council, and the scattered concourse sought

Their sev'ral homes, while all the suitors flock'd

340 Thence to the palace of their absent King.

Meantime, Telemachus from all resort

Retiring, in the surf of the gray Deep

First laved his hands, then, thus to Pallas pray'd.

O Goddess! who wast yesterday a guest

Beneath my roof, and didst enjoin me then

A voyage o'er the sable Deep in quest

Of tidings of my long regretted Sire!

Which voyage, all in Ithaca, but most

The haughty suitors, obstinate impede,

350 Now hear my suit and gracious interpose!

Such pray'r he made; then Pallas, in the form,

And with the voice of Mentor, drawing nigh,

In accents wing'd, him kindly thus bespake.

Telemachus! thou shalt hereafter prove

Nor base, nor poor in talents. If, in truth,

Thou have received from heav'n thy father's force

Instill'd into thee, and resemblest him

In promptness both of action and of speech,

Thy voyage shall not useless be, or vain.

360 But if Penelope produced thee not

His son, I, then, hope not for good effect

Of this design which, ardent, thou pursuest.

Few sons their fathers equal; most appear

Degenerate; but we find, though rare, sometimes

A son superior even to his Sire.

And since thyself shalt neither base be found

Nor spiritless, nor altogether void

Of talents, such as grace thy royal Sire,

I therefore hope success of thy attempt.

370 Heed not the suitors' projects; neither wise

Are they, nor just, nor aught suspect the doom

Which now approaches them, and in one day

Shall overwhelm them all. No long suspense

Shall hold thy purposed enterprise in doubt,

Such help from me, of old thy father's friend,

Thou shalt receive, who with a bark well-oar'd

Will serve thee, and myself attend thee forth.

But haste, join thou the suitors, and provide,

In sep'rate vessels stow'd, all needful stores,

380 Wine in thy jars, and flour, the strength of man,

In skins close-seam'd. I will, meantime, select

Such as shall voluntary share thy toils.

In sea-girt Ithaca new ships and old

Abound, and I will chuse, myself, for thee

The prime of all, which without more delay

We will launch out into the spacious Deep.

Thus Pallas spake, daughter of Jove; nor long,

So greeted by the voice divine, remain'd

Telemachus, but to his palace went

390 Distress'd in heart. He found the suitors there

Goats slaying in the hall, and fatted swine

Roasting; when with a laugh Antinoüs flew

To meet him, fasten'd on his hand, and said,

Telemachus, in eloquence sublime,

And of a spirit not to be controul'd!

Give harbour in thy breast on no account

To after-grudge or enmity, but eat,

Far rather, cheerfully as heretofore,

And freely drink, committing all thy cares

400 To the Achaians, who shall furnish forth

A gallant ship and chosen crew for thee,

That thou may'st hence to Pylus with all speed,

Tidings to learn of thy illustrious Sire.

To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.

Antinoüs! I have no heart to feast

With guests so insolent, nor can indulge

The pleasures of a mind at ease, with you.

Is't not enough, suitors, that ye have used

My noble patrimony as your own

410 While I was yet a child? now, grown mature,

And competent to understand the speech

Of my instructors, feeling, too, a mind

Within me conscious of augmented pow'rs,

I will attempt your ruin, be assured,

Whether at Pylus, or continuing here.

I go, indeed, (nor shall my voyage prove

Of which I speak, bootless or vain) I go

An humble passenger, who neither bark

Nor rowers have to boast my own, denied

420 That honour (so ye judg'd it best) by you.

He said, and from Antinoüs' hand his own

Drew sudden. Then their delicate repast

The busy suitors on all sides prepar'd,

Still taunting as they toil'd, and with sharp speech

Sarcastic wantoning, of whom a youth,

Arrogant as his fellows, thus began.

I see it plain, Telemachus intends

Our slaughter; either he will aids procure

From sandy Pylus, or will bring them arm'd

430 From Sparta; such is his tremendous drift.

Even to fruitful Ephyre, perchance,

He will proceed, seeking some baneful herb

Which cast into our cup, shall drug us all.

To whom some haughty suitor thus replied.

Who knows but that himself, wand'ring the sea

From all his friends and kindred far remote,

May perish like Ulysses? Whence to us

Should double toil ensue, on whom the charge

To parcel out his wealth would then devolve,

440 And to endow his mother with the house

For his abode whom she should chance to wed.

So sported they; but he, ascending sought

His father's lofty chamber, where his heaps

He kept of brass and gold, garments in chests,

And oils of fragrant scent, a copious store.

There many a cask with season'd nectar fill'd

The grape's pure juice divine, beside the wall

Stood orderly arranged, waiting the hour

(Should e'er such hour arrive) when, after woes

450 Num'rous, Ulysses should regain his home.

Secure that chamber was with folding doors

Of massy planks compact, and night and day,

Within it antient Euryclea dwelt,

Guardian discrete of all the treasures there,

Whom, thither call'd, Telemachus address'd.

Nurse! draw me forth sweet wine into my jars,

Delicious next to that which thou reserv'st

For our poor wand'rer; if escaping death

At last, divine Ulysses e'er return.

460 Fill twelve, and stop them close; pour also meal

Well mill'd (full twenty measures) into skins

Close-seam'd, and mention what thou dost to none.

Place them together; for at even-tide

I will convey them hence, soon as the Queen,

Retiring to her couch, shall seek repose.

For hence to Sparta will I take my course,

And sandy Pylus, tidings there to hear

(If hear I may) of my lov'd Sire's return.

He ceas'd, then wept his gentle nurse that sound

470 Hearing, and in wing'd accents thus replied.

My child! ah, wherefore hath a thought so rash

Possess'd thee? whither, only and belov'd,

Seek'st thou to ramble, travelling, alas!

To distant climes? Ulysses is no more;

Dead lies the Hero in some land unknown,

And thou no sooner shalt depart, than these

Will plot to slay thee, and divide thy wealth.

No, stay with us who love thee. Need is none

That thou should'st on the barren Deep distress

480 Encounter, roaming without hope or end.

Whom, prudent, thus answer'd Telemachus.

Take courage, nurse! for not without consent

Of the Immortals I have thus resolv'd.

But swear, that till eleven days be past,

Or twelve, or, till enquiry made, she learn

Herself my going, thou wilt not impart

Of this my purpose to my mother's ear,

Lest all her beauties fade by grief impair'd.

He ended, and the antient matron swore

490 Solemnly by the Gods; which done, she fill'd

With wine the vessels and the skins with meal,

And he, returning, join'd the throng below.

Then Pallas, Goddess azure-eyed, her thoughts

Elsewhere directing, all the city ranged

In semblance of Telemachus, each man

Exhorting, at the dusk of eve, to seek

The gallant ship, and from Noëmon, son

Renown'd of Phronius, ask'd, herself, a bark,

Which soon as ask'd, he promis'd to supply.

500 Now set the sun, and twilight dimm'd the ways,

When, drawing down his bark into the Deep,

He gave her all her furniture, oars, arms

And tackle, such as well-built galleys bear,

Then moor'd her in the bottom of the bay.

Meantime, his mariners in haste repair'd

Down to the shore, for Pallas urged them on.

And now on other purposes intent,

The Goddess sought the palace, where with dews

Of slumber drenching ev'ry suitor's eye,

510 She fool'd the drunkard multitude, and dash'd

The goblets from their idle hands away.

They through the city reeled, happy to leave

The dull carousal, when the slumb'rous weight

Oppressive on their eye-lids once had fall'n.

Next, Pallas azure-eyed in Mentor's form

And with the voice of Mentor, summoning

Telemachus abroad, him thus bespake.

Telemachus! already at their oars

Sit all thy fellow-voyagers, and wait

520 Thy coming; linger not, but haste away.

This said, Minerva led him thence, whom he

With nimble steps follow'd, and on the shore

Arrived, found all his mariners prepared,

Whom thus the princely voyager address'd.

Haste, my companions! bring we down the stores

Already sorted and set forth; but nought

My mother knows, or any of her train

Of this design, one matron sole except.

He spake, and led them; they, obedient, brought

530 All down, and, as Ulysses' son enjoin'd,

Within the gallant bark the charge bestow'd.

Then, led by Pallas, went the prince on board,

Where down they sat, the Goddess in the stern,

And at her side Telemachus. The crew

Cast loose the hawsers, and embarking, fill'd

The benches. Blue-eyed Pallas from the West

Call'd forth propitious breezes; fresh they curled

The sable Deep, and, sounding, swept the waves.

He loud-exhorting them, his people bade

540 Hand, brisk, the tackle; they, obedient, reared

The pine-tree mast, which in its socket deep

They lodg'd, then strain'd the cordage, and with thongs

Well-twisted, drew the shining sail aloft.

A land-breeze fill'd the canvas, and the flood

Roar'd as she went against the steady bark

That ran with even course her liquid way.

The rigging, thus, of all the galley set,

Their beakers crowning high with wine, they hail'd

The ever-living Gods, but above all

550 Minerva, daughter azure-eyed of Jove.

Thus, all night long the galley, and till dawn

Had brighten'd into day, cleaved swift the flood.

The sun, emerging from the lucid waves,

Ascended now the brazen vault with light

For the inhabitants of earth and heav'n,

When in their bark at Pylus they arrived,

City of Neleus. On the shore they found

The people sacrificing; bulls they slew

Black without spot, to Neptune azure-hair'd.

On ranges nine of seats they sat; each range

Received five hundred, and to each they made

Allotment equal of nine sable bulls.

10 The feast was now begun; these eating sat

The entrails, those stood off'ring to the God

The thighs, his portion, when the Ithacans

Push'd right ashore, and, furling close the sails,

And making fast their moorings, disembark'd.

Forth came Telemachus, by Pallas led,

Whom thus the Goddess azure-eyed address'd.

Telemachus! there is no longer room

For bashful fear, since thou hast cross'd the flood

With purpose to enquire what land conceals

20 Thy father, and what fate hath follow'd him.

Advance at once to the equestrian Chief

Nestor, within whose bosom lies, perhaps,

Advice well worthy of thy search; entreat

Himself, that he will tell thee only truth,

Who will not lye, for he is passing wise.

To whom Telemachus discrete replied.

Ah Mentor! how can I advance, how greet

A Chief like him, unpractis'd as I am

In manag'd phrase? Shame bids the youth beware

30 How he accosts the man of many years.

But him the Goddess answer'd azure-eyed,

Telemachus! Thou wilt, in part, thyself

Fit speech devise, and heav'n will give the rest;

For thou wast neither born, nor hast been train'd

To manhood, under unpropitious Pow'rs.

So saying, Minerva led him thence, whom he

With nimble steps attending, soon arrived

Among the multitude. There Nestor sat,

And Nestor's sons, while, busily the feast

40 Tending, his num'rous followers roasted, some,

The viands, some, transfix'd them with the spits.

They seeing guests arrived, together all

Advanced, and, grasping courteously their hands,

Invited them to sit; but first, the son

Of Nestor, young Pisistratus, approach'd,

Who, fast'ning on the hands of both, beside

The banquet placed them, where the beach was spread

With fleeces, and where Thrasymedes sat

His brother, and the hoary Chief his Sire.

50 To each a portion of the inner parts

He gave, then fill'd a golden cup with wine,

Which, tasted first, he to the daughter bore

Of Jove the Thund'rer, and her thus bespake.

Oh guest! the King of Ocean now adore!

For ye have chanced on Neptune's festival;

And, when thou hast, thyself, libation made

Duly, and pray'r, deliver to thy friend

The gen'rous juice, that he may also make

Libation; for he, doubtless, seeks, in prayer

60 The Immortals, of whose favour all have need.

But, since he younger is, and with myself

Coeval, first I give the cup to thee.

He ceas'd, and to her hand consign'd the cup,

Which Pallas gladly from a youth received

So just and wise, who to herself had first

The golden cup presented, and in pray'r

Fervent the Sov'reign of the Seas adored.

Hear, earth-encircler Neptune! O vouchsafe

To us thy suppliants the desired effect

70 Of this our voyage; glory, first, bestow

On Nestor and his offspring both, then grant

To all the Pylians such a gracious boon

As shall requite their noble off'ring well.

Grant also to Telemachus and me

To voyage hence, possess'd of what we sought

When hither in our sable bark we came.

So Pallas pray'd, and her own pray'r herself

Accomplish'd. To Telemachus she gave

The splendid goblet next, and in his turn

80 Like pray'r Ulysses' son also preferr'd.

And now (the banquet from the spits withdrawn)

They next distributed sufficient share

To each, and all were sumptuously regaled.

At length, (both hunger satisfied and thirst)

Thus Nestor, the Gerenian Chief, began.

Now with more seemliness we may enquire,

After repast, what guests we have received.

Our guests! who are ye? Whence have ye the waves

Plough'd hither? Come ye to transact concerns

90 °Commercial, or at random roam the Deep

Like pirates, who with mischief charged and woe

To foreign States, oft hazard life themselves?

Him answer'd, bolder now, but still discrete,

Telemachus. For Pallas had his heart

With manly courage arm'd, that he might ask

From Nestor tidings of his absent Sire,

And win, himself, distinction and renown.

Oh Nestor, Neleus' son, glory of Greece!

Thou askest whence we are. I tell thee whence.

100 From Ithaca, by the umbrageous woods

Of Neritus o'erhung, by private need,

Not public, urged, we come. My errand is

To seek intelligence of the renown'd

Ulysses; of my noble father, prais'd

For dauntless courage, whom report proclaims

Conqueror, with thine aid, of sacred Troy.

We have already learn'd where other Chiefs

Who fought at Ilium, died; but Jove conceals

Even the death of my illustrious Sire

110 In dull obscurity; for none hath heard

Or confident can answer, where he dy'd;

Whether he on the continent hath fall'n

By hostile hands, or by the waves o'erwhelm'd

Of Amphitrite, welters in the Deep.

For this cause, at thy knees suppliant, I beg

That thou would'st tell me his disast'rous end,

If either thou beheld'st that dread event

Thyself, or from some wanderer of the Greeks

Hast heard it: for my father at his birth

120 Was, sure, predestin'd to no common woes.

Neither through pity, or o'erstrain'd respect

Flatter me, but explicit all relate

Which thou hast witness'd. If my noble Sire

E'er gratified thee by performance just

Of word or deed at Ilium, where ye fell

So num'rous slain in fight, oh, recollect

Now his fidelity, and tell me true.

Then Nestor thus Gerenian Hero old.

Young friend! since thou remind'st me, speaking thus,

130 Of all the woes which indefatigable

We sons of the Achaians there sustain'd,

Both those which wand'ring on the Deep we bore

Wherever by Achilles led in quest

Of booty, and the many woes beside

Which under royal Priam's spacious walls

We suffer'd, know, that there our bravest fell.

There warlike Ajax lies, there Peleus' son;

There, too, Patroclus, like the Gods themselves

In council, and my son beloved there,

140 Brave, virtuous, swift of foot, and bold in fight,

Antilochus. Nor are these sorrows all;

What tongue of mortal man could all relate?

Should'st thou, abiding here, five years employ

Or six, enquiring of the woes endured

By the Achaians, ere thou should'st have learn'd

The whole, thou would'st depart, tir'd of the tale.

For we, nine years, stratagems of all kinds

Devised against them, and Saturnian Jove

Scarce crown'd the difficult attempt at last.

150 There, no competitor in wiles well-plann'd

Ulysses found, so far were all surpass'd

In shrewd invention by thy noble Sire,

If thou indeed art his, as sure thou art,

Whose sight breeds wonder in me, and thy speech

His speech resembles more than might be deem'd

Within the scope of years so green as thine.

There, never in opinion, or in voice

Illustrious Ulysses and myself

Divided were, but, one in heart, contrived

160 As best we might, the benefit of all.

But after Priam's lofty city sack'd,

And the departure of the Greeks on board

Their barks, and when the Gods had scatter'd them,

Then Jove imagin'd for the Argive host

A sorrowful return; for neither just

Were all, nor prudent, therefore many found

A fate disast'rous through the vengeful ire

Of Jove-born Pallas, who between the sons

Of Atreus sharp contention interposed.

170 They both, irregularly, and against

Just order, summoning by night the Greeks

To council, of whom many came with wine

Oppress'd, promulgated the cause for which

They had convened the people. Then it was

That Menelaus bade the general host

Their thoughts bend homeward o'er the sacred Deep,

Which Agamemnon in no sort approved.

His counsel was to slay them yet at Troy,

That so he might assuage the dreadful wrath

180 Of Pallas, first, by sacrifice and pray'r.

Vain hope! he little thought how ill should speed

That fond attempt, for, once provok'd, the Gods

Are not with ease conciliated again.

Thus stood the brothers, altercation hot

Maintaining, till at length, uprose the Greeks

With deaf'ning clamours, and with diff'ring minds.

We slept the night, but teeming with disgust

Mutual, for Jove great woe prepar'd for all.

At dawn of day we drew our gallies down

190 Into the sea, and, hasty, put on board

The spoils and female captives. Half the host,

With Agamemnon, son of Atreus, stay'd

Supreme commander, and, embarking, half

Push'd forth. Swift course we made, for Neptune smooth'd

The waves before us of the monstrous Deep.

At Tenedos arriv'd, we there perform'd

Sacrifice to the Gods, ardent to reach

Our native land, but unpropitious Jove,

Not yet designing our arrival there,

200 Involved us in dissension fierce again.

For all the crews, followers of the King,

Thy noble Sire, to gratify our Chief,

The son of Atreus, chose a diff'rent course,

And steer'd their oary barks again to Troy.

But I, assured that evil from the Gods

Impended, gath'ring all my gallant fleet,

Fled thence in haste, and warlike Diomede

Exhorting his attendants, also fled.

At length, the Hero Menelaus join'd

210 Our fleets at Lesbos; there he found us held

In deep deliberation on the length

Of way before us, whether we should steer

Above the craggy Chios to the isle

Psyria, that island holding on our left,

Or under Chios by the wind-swept heights

Of Mimas. Then we ask'd from Jove a sign,

And by a sign vouchsafed he bade us cut

The wide sea to Euboea sheer athwart,

So soonest to escape the threat'ned harm.

220 Shrill sang the rising gale, and with swift prows

Cleaving the fishy flood, we reach'd by night

Geræstus, where arrived, we burn'd the thighs

Of num'rous bulls to Neptune, who had safe

Conducted us through all our perilous course.

The fleet of Diomede in safety moor'd

On the fourth day at Argos, but myself

Held on my course to Pylus, nor the wind

One moment thwarted us, or died away,

When Jove had once commanded it to blow.

230 Thus, uninform'd, I have arrived, my son!

Nor of the Greecians, who are saved have heard,

Or who have perish'd; but what news soe'er

I have obtain'd, since my return, with truth

I will relate, nor aught conceal from thee.

The spear-famed Myrmidons, as rumour speaks,

By Neoptolemus, illustrious son

Of brave Achilles led, have safe arrived;

Safe, Philoctetes, also son renown'd

Of Pæas; and Idomeneus at Crete

240 Hath landed all his followers who survive

The bloody war, the waves have swallow'd none.

Ye have yourselves doubtless, although remote,

Of Agamemnon heard, how he return'd,

And how Ægisthus cruelly contrived

For him a bloody welcome, but himself

Hath with his own life paid the murth'rous deed.

Good is it, therefore, if a son survive

The slain, since Agamemnon's son hath well

Avenged his father's death, slaying, himself,

250 Ægisthus, foul assassin of his Sire.

Young friend! (for pleas'd thy vig'rous youth I view,

And just proportion) be thou also bold,

That thine like his may be a deathless name.

Then, prudent, him answer'd Telemachus.

Oh Nestor, Neleus' son, glory of Greece!

And righteous was that vengeance; his renown

Achaia's sons shall far and wide diffuse,

To future times transmitting it in song.

Ah! would that such ability the Gods

260 Would grant to me, that I, as well, the deeds

Might punish of our suitors, whose excess

Enormous, and whose bitter taunts I feel

Continual, object of their subtle hate.

But not for me such happiness the Gods

Have twined into my thread; no, not for me

Or for my father. Patience is our part.

To whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied.

Young friend! (since thou remind'st me of that theme)

Fame here reports that num'rous suitors haunt

270 Thy palace for thy mother's sake, and there

Much evil perpetrate in thy despight.

But say, endur'st thou willing their controul

Imperious, or because the people, sway'd

By some response oracular, incline

Against thee? But who knows? the time may come

When to his home restored, either alone,

Or aided by the force of all the Greeks,

Ulysses may avenge the wrong; at least,

Should Pallas azure-eyed thee love, as erst

280 At Troy, the scene of our unnumber'd woes,

She lov'd Ulysses (for I have not known

The Gods assisting so apparently

A mortal man, as him Minerva there)

Should Pallas view thee also with like love

And kind solicitude, some few of those

Should dream, perchance, of wedlock never more.

Then answer thus Telemachus return'd.

That word's accomplishment I cannot hope;

It promises too much; the thought alone

290 O'erwhelms me; an event so fortunate

Would, unexpected on my part, arrive,

Although the Gods themselves should purpose it.

But Pallas him answer'd cærulean-eyed.

Telemachus! what word was that which leap'd

The iv'ry guard[7] that should have fenced it in?

A God, so willing, could with utmost ease

Save any man, howe'er remote. Myself,

I had much rather, many woes endured,

Revisit home, at last, happy and safe,

300 Than, sooner coming, die in my own house,

As Agamemnon perish'd by the arts

Of base Ægisthus and the subtle Queen.

Yet not the Gods themselves can save from death

All-levelling, the man whom most they love,

When Fate ordains him once to his last sleep.

To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.

Howe'er it interest us, let us leave

This question, Mentor! He, I am assured,

Returns no more, but hath already found

310 A sad, sad fate by the decree of heav'n.

But I would now interrogate again

Nestor, and on a different theme, for him

In human rights I judge, and laws expert,

And in all knowledge beyond other men;

For he hath govern'd, as report proclaims,

Three generations; therefore in my eyes

He wears the awful impress of a God.

Oh Nestor, son of Neleus, tell me true;

What was the manner of Atrides' death,

320 Wide-ruling Agamemnon? Tell me where

Was Menelaus? By what means contrived

Ægisthus to inflict the fatal blow,

Slaying so much a nobler than himself?

Had not the brother of the Monarch reach'd

Achaian Argos yet, but, wand'ring still

In other climes, his long absence gave

Ægisthus courage for that bloody deed?

Whom answer'd the Gerenian Chief renown'd.

My son! I will inform thee true; meantime

330 Thy own suspicions border on the fact.

Had Menelaus, Hero, amber hair'd,

Ægisthus found living at his return

From Ilium, never on his bones the Greeks

Had heap'd a tomb, but dogs and rav'ning fowls

Had torn him lying in the open field

Far from the town, nor him had woman wept

Of all in Greece, for he had foul transgress'd.

But we, in many an arduous task engaged,

Lay before Ilium; he, the while, secure

340 Within the green retreats of Argos, found

Occasion apt by flatt'ry to delude

The spouse of Agamemnon; she, at first,

(The royal Clytemnestra) firm refused

The deed dishonourable (for she bore

A virtuous mind, and at her side a bard

Attended ever, whom the King, to Troy

Departing, had appointed to the charge.)

But when the Gods had purposed to ensnare

Ægisthus, then dismissing far remote

350 The bard into a desart isle, he there

Abandon'd him to rav'ning fowls a prey,

And to his own home, willing as himself,

Led Clytemnestra. Num'rous thighs he burn'd

On all their hallow'd altars to the Gods,

And hung with tap'stry, images, and gold

Their shrines, his great exploit past hope atchiev'd.

We (Menelaus and myself) had sailed

From Troy together, but when we approach'd

Sunium, headland of th' Athenian shore,

360 There Phoebus, sudden, with his gentle shafts

Slew Menelaus' pilot while he steer'd

The volant bark, Phrontis, Onetor's son,

A mariner past all expert, whom none

In steerage match'd, what time the tempest roar'd.

Here, therefore, Menelaus was detained,

Giving his friend due burial, and his rites

Funereal celebrating, though in haste

Still to proceed. But when, with all his fleet

The wide sea traversing, he reach'd at length

370 Malea's lofty foreland in his course,

Rough passage, then, and perilous he found.

Shrill blasts the Thund'rer pour'd into his sails,

And wild waves sent him mountainous. His ships

There scatter'd, some to the Cydonian coast

Of Crete he push'd, near where the Jardan flows.

Beside the confines of Gortyna stands,

Amid the gloomy flood, a smooth rock, steep

Toward the sea, against whose leftward point

Phæstus by name, the South wind rolls the surge

380 Amain, which yet the rock, though small, repells.

Hither with part he came, and scarce the crews

Themselves escaped, while the huge billows broke

Their ships against the rocks; yet five he saved,

Which winds and waves drove to the Ægyptian shore.

Thus he, provision gath'ring as he went

And gold abundant, roam'd to distant lands

And nations of another tongue. Meantime,

Ægisthus these enormities at home

Devising, slew Atrides, and supreme

390 Rul'd the subjected land; sev'n years he reign'd

In opulent Mycenæ, but the eighth

From Athens brought renown'd Orestes home

For his destruction, who of life bereaved

Ægisthus base assassin of his Sire.

Orestes, therefore, the funereal rites

Performing to his shameless mother's shade

And to her lustful paramour, a feast

Gave to the Argives; on which self-same day

The warlike Menelaus, with his ships

400 All treasure-laden to the brink, arrived.

And thou, young friend! from thy forsaken home

Rove not long time remote, thy treasures left

At mercy of those proud, lest they divide

And waste the whole, rend'ring thy voyage vain.

But hence to Menelaus is the course

To which I counsel thee; for he hath come

Of late from distant lands, whence to escape

No man could hope, whom tempests first had driv'n

Devious into so wide a sea, from which

410 Themselves the birds of heaven could not arrive

In a whole year, so vast is the expanse.

Go, then, with ship and shipmates, or if more

The land delight thee, steeds thou shalt not want

Nor chariot, and my sons shall be thy guides

To noble Lacedemon, the abode

Of Menelaus; ask from him the truth,

Who will not lye, for he is passing wise.

While thus he spake, the sun declined, and night

Approaching, blue-eyed Pallas interposed.

420 O antient King! well hast thou spoken all.

But now delay not. Cut ye forth the tongues,[8]

And mingle wine, that (Neptune first invoked

With due libation, and the other Gods)

We may repair to rest; for even now

The sun is sunk, and it becomes us not

Long to protract a banquet to the Gods

Devote, but in fit season to depart.

So spake Jove's daughter; they obedient heard.

The heralds, then, pour'd water on their hands,

430 And the attendant youths, filling the cups,

Served them from left to right. Next all the tongues

They cast into the fire, and ev'ry guest

Arising, pour'd libation to the Gods.

Libation made, and all with wine sufficed,

Godlike Telemachus and Pallas both

Would have return'd, incontinent, on board,

But Nestor urged them still to be his guests.

Forbid it, Jove, and all the Pow'rs of heav'n!

That ye should leave me to repair on board

440 Your vessel, as I were some needy wretch

Cloakless and destitute of fleecy stores

Wherewith to spread the couch soft for myself,

Or for my guests. No. I have garments warm

An ample store, and rugs of richest dye;

And never shall Ulysses' son belov'd,

My frend's own son, sleep on a galley's plank

While I draw vital air; grant also, heav'n,

That, dying, I may leave behind me sons

Glad to accommodate whatever guest!

450 Him answer'd then Pallas cærulean-eyed.

Old Chief! thou hast well said, and reason bids

Telemachus thy kind commands obey.

Let him attend thee hence, that he may sleep

Beneath thy roof, but I return on board

Myself, to instruct my people, and to give

All needful orders; for among them none

Is old as I, but they are youths alike,

Coevals of Telemachus, with whom

They have embark'd for friendship's sake alone.

460 I therefore will repose myself on board

This night, and to the Caucons bold in arms

Will sail to-morrow, to demand arrears

Long time unpaid, and of no small amount.

But, since he is become thy guest, afford

My friend a chariot, and a son of thine

Who shall direct his way, nor let him want

Of all thy steeds the swiftest and the best.

So saying, the blue-eyed Goddess as upborne

On eagle's wings, vanish'd; amazement seized

470 The whole assembly, and the antient King

O'erwhelmed with wonder at that sight, the hand

Grasp'd of Telemachus, whom he thus bespake.

My friend! I prophesy that thou shalt prove

Nor base nor dastard, whom, so young, the Gods

Already take in charge; for of the Pow'rs

Inhabitants of heav'n, none else was this

Than Jove's own daughter Pallas, who among

The Greecians honour'd most thy gen'rous Sire.

But thou, O Queen! compassionate us all,

480 Myself, my sons, my comfort; give to each

A glorious name, and I to thee will give

For sacrifice an heifer of the year,

Broad-fronted, one that never yet hath borne

The yoke, and will incase her horns with gold.

So Nestor pray'd, whom Pallas gracious heard.

Then the Gerenian warrior old, before

His sons and sons in law, to his abode

Magnificent proceeded: they (arrived

Within the splendid palace of the King)

490 On thrones and couches sat in order ranged,

Whom Nestor welcom'd, charging high the cup

With wine of richest sort, which she who kept

That treasure, now in the eleventh year

First broach'd, unsealing the delicious juice.

With this the hoary Senior fill'd a cup,

And to the daughter of Jove Ægis-arm'd

Pouring libation, offer'd fervent pray'r.

When all had made libation, and no wish

Remain'd of more, then each to rest retired,

500 And Nestor the Gerenian warrior old

Led thence Telemachus to a carved couch

Beneath the sounding portico prepared.

Beside him he bade sleep the spearman bold,

Pisistratus, a gallant youth, the sole

Unwedded in his house of all his sons.

Himself in the interior palace lay,

Where couch and cov'ring for her antient spouse

The consort Queen had diligent prepar'd.

But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,

510 Had tinged the East, arising from his bed,

Gerenian Nestor issued forth, and sat

Before his palace-gate on the white stones

Resplendent as with oil, on which of old

His father Neleus had been wont to sit,

In council like a God; but he had sought,

By destiny dismiss'd long since, the shades.

On those stones therefore now, Nestor himself,

Achaia's guardian, sat, sceptre in hand,

Where soon his num'rous sons, leaving betimes

520 The place of their repose, also appeared,

Echephron, Stratius, Perseus, Thrasymedes,

Aretus and Pisistratus. They placed

Godlike Telemachus at Nestor's side,

And the Gerenian Hero thus began.

Sons be ye quick-execute with dispatch

My purpose, that I may propitiate first

Of all the Gods Minerva, who herself

Hath honour'd manifest our hallow'd feast.

Haste, one, into the field, to order thence

530 An ox, and let the herdsman drive it home.

Another, hasting to the sable bark

Of brave Telemachus, bring hither all

His friends, save two, and let a third command

Laerceus, that he come to enwrap with gold

The victim's horns. Abide ye here, the rest,

And bid my female train (for I intend

A banquet) with all diligence provide

Seats, stores of wood, and water from the rock.

He said, whom instant all obey'd. The ox

54 °Came from the field, and from the gallant ship

The shipmates of the brave Telemachus;

Next, charged with all his implements of art,

His mallet, anvil, pincers, came the smith

To give the horns their gilding; also came

Pallas herself to her own sacred rites.

Then Nestor, hoary warrior, furnish'd gold,

Which, hammer'd thin, the artist wrapp'd around

The victim's horns, that seeing him attired

So costly, Pallas might the more be pleased.

550 Stratius and brave Echephron introduced

The victim by his horns; Aretus brought

A laver in one hand, with flow'rs emboss'd,

And in his other hand a basket stored

With cakes, while warlike Thrasymedes, arm'd

With his long-hafted ax, prepared to smite

The ox, and Perseus to receive the blood.

The hoary Nestor consecrated first

Both cakes and water, and with earnest pray'r

To Pallas, gave the forelock to the flames.

560 When all had worshipp'd, and the broken cakes

Sprinkled, then godlike Thrasymedes drew

Close to the ox, and smote him. Deep the edge

Enter'd, and senseless on the floor he fell.

Then Nestor's daughters, and the consorts all

Of Nestor's sons, with his own consort, chaste

Eurydice, the daughter eldest-born

Of Clymenus, in one shrill orison

Vocif'rous join'd, while they, lifting the ox,

Held him supported firmly, and the prince

570 Of men, Pisistratus, his gullet pierced.

Soon as the sable blood had ceased, and life

Had left the victim, spreading him abroad,

With nice address they parted at the joint

His thighs, and wrapp'd them in the double cawl,

Which with crude slices thin they overspread.

Nestor burn'd incense, and libation pour'd

Large on the hissing brands, while him beside,

Busy with spit and prong, stood many a youth

Train'd to the task. The thighs consumed, each took

His portion of the maw, then, slashing well

581 The remnant, they transpierced it with the spits

Neatly, and held it reeking at the fire.

Meantime the youngest of the daughters fair

Of Nestor, beauteous Polycaste, laved,

Anointed, and in vest and tunic cloathed

Telemachus, who, so refresh'd, stepp'd forth

From the bright laver graceful as a God,

And took his seat at antient Nestor's side.

The viands dress'd, and from the spits withdrawn,

590 They sat to share the feast, and princely youths

Arising, gave them wine in cups of gold.

When neither hunger now nor thirst remain'd

Unsated, thus Gerenian Nestor spake.

My sons, arise, lead forth the sprightly steeds,

And yoke them, that Telemachus may go.

So spake the Chief, to whose commands his sons,

Obedient, yoked in haste the rapid steeds,

And the intendant matron of the stores

Disposed meantime within the chariot, bread

600 And wine, and dainties, such as princes eat.

Telemachus into the chariot first

Ascended, and beside him, next, his place

Pisistratus the son of Nestor took,

Then seiz'd the reins, and lash'd the coursers on.

They, nothing loth, into the open plain

Flew, leaving lofty Pylus soon afar.

Thus, journeying, they shook on either side

The yoke all day, and now the setting sun

To dusky evening had resign'd the roads,

610 When they to Pheræ came, and the abode

Reach'd of Diocles, whose illustrious Sire

Orsilochus from Alpheus drew his birth,

And there, with kindness entertain'd, they slept.

But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,

Look'd rosy from the East, yoking the steeds,

They in their sumptuous chariot sat again.

The son of Nestor plied the lash, and forth

Through vestibule and sounding portico

The royal coursers, not unwilling, flew.

620 A corn-invested land receiv'd them next,

And there they brought their journey to a close,

So rapidly they moved; and now the sun

Went down, and even-tide dimm'd all the ways.

In hollow Lacedæmon's spacious vale

Arriving, to the house they drove direct

Of royal Menelaus; him they found

In his own palace, all his num'rous friends

Regaling at a nuptial banquet giv'n

Both for his daughter and the prince his son.

His daughter to renown'd Achilles' heir

He sent, to whom he had at Troy engaged

To give her, and the Gods now made her his.

With chariots and with steeds he sent her forth

10 To the illustrious city where the prince,

Achilles' offspring, ruled the Myrmidons.

But to his son he gave a Spartan fair,

Alector's daughter; from an handmaid sprang

That son to Menelaus in his age,

Brave Megapenthes; for the Gods no child

To Helen gave, made mother, once, of her

Who vied in perfect loveliness of form

With golden Venus' self, Hermione.

Thus all the neighbour princes and the friends

20 Of noble Menelaus, feasting sat

Within his spacious palace, among whom

A sacred bard sang sweetly to his harp,

While, in the midst, two dancers smote the ground

With measur'd steps responsive to his song.

And now the Heroes, Nestor's noble son

And young Telemachus arrived within

The vestibule, whom, issuing from the hall,

The noble Eteoneus of the train

Of Menelaus, saw; at once he ran

30 Across the palace to report the news

To his Lord's ear, and, standing at his side,

In accents wing'd with haste thus greeted him.

Oh Menelaus! Heav'n descended Chief!

Two guests arrive, both strangers, but the race

Of Jove supreme resembling each in form.

Say, shall we loose, ourselves, their rapid steeds,

Or hence dismiss them to some other host?

But Menelaus, Hero golden-hair'd,

Indignant answer'd him. Boethe's son!

40 Thou wast not, Eteoneus, heretofore,

A babbler, who now pratest as a child.

We have ourselves arrived indebted much

To hospitality of other men,

If Jove shall, even here, some pause at last

Of woe afford us. Therefore loose, at once,

Their steeds, and introduce them to the feast.

He said, and, issuing, Eteoneus call'd

The brisk attendants to his aid, with whom

He loos'd their foaming coursers from the yoke.

50 Them first they bound to mangers, which with oats

And mingled barley they supplied, then thrust

The chariot sidelong to the splendid wall.[9]

Themselves he, next, into the royal house

Conducted, who survey'd, wond'ring, the abode

Of the heav'n-favour'd King; for on all sides

As with the splendour of the sun or moon

The lofty dome of Menelaus blazed.

Satiate, at length, with wonder at that sight,

They enter'd each a bath, and by the hands

60 Of maidens laved, and oil'd, and cloath'd again

With shaggy mantles and resplendent vests,

Sat both enthroned at Menelaus' side.

And now a maiden charged with golden ew'r,

And with an argent laver, pouring first

Pure water on their hands, supplied them next

With a bright table, which the maiden, chief

In office, furnish'd plenteously with bread

And dainties, remnants of the last regale.

Then came the sew'r, who with delicious meats

70 Dish after dish, served them, and placed beside

The chargers cups magnificent of gold,

When Menelaus grasp'd their hands, and said.

Eat and rejoice, and when ye shall have shared

Our nuptial banquet, we will then inquire

Who are ye both, for, certain, not from those

Whose generation perishes are ye,

But rather of some race of sceptred Chiefs

Heav'n-born; the base have never sons like you.

So saying, he from the board lifted his own

80 Distinguish'd portion, and the fatted chine

Gave to his guests; the sav'ry viands they

With outstretch'd hands assail'd, and when the force

No longer now of appetite they felt,

Telemachus, inclining close his head

To Nestor's son, lest others should his speech

Witness, in whisper'd words him thus address'd.

Dearest Pisistratus, observe, my friend!

How all the echoing palace with the light

Of beaming brass, of gold and amber shines

90 Silver and ivory! for radiance such

Th' interior mansion of Olympian Jove

I deem. What wealth, how various, how immense

Is here! astonish'd I survey the sight!

But Menelaus, golden-hair'd, his speech

O'erhearing, thus in accents wing'd replied

My children! let no mortal man pretend

Comparison with Jove; for Jove's abode

And all his stores are incorruptible.

But whether mortal man with me may vie

100 In the display of wealth, or whether not,

This know, that after many toils endured,

And perilous wand'rings wide, in the eighth year

I brought my treasures home. Remote I roved

To Cyprus, to Phoenice, to the shores

Of Ægypt; Æthiopia's land I reach'd,

Th' Erembi, the Sidonians, and the coasts

Of Lybia, where the lambs their foreheads shew

At once with horns defended, soon as yean'd.

There, thrice within the year the flocks produce,

110 Nor master, there, nor shepherd ever feels

A dearth of cheese, of flesh, or of sweet milk

Delicious, drawn from udders never dry.

While, thus, commodities on various coasts

Gath'ring I roam'd, another, by the arts

Of his pernicious spouse aided, of life

Bereav'd my brother privily, and when least

He fear'd to lose it. Therefore little joy

To me results from all that I possess.

Your fathers (be those fathers who they may)

120 These things have doubtless told you; for immense

Have been my suff'rings, and I have destroy'd

A palace well inhabited and stored

With precious furniture in ev'ry kind;

Such, that I would to heav'n! I own'd at home

Though but the third of it, and that the Greeks

Who perish'd then, beneath the walls of Troy

Far from steed-pastured Argos, still survived.

Yet while, sequester'd here, I frequent mourn

My slaughter'd friends, by turns I sooth my soul

130 With tears shed for them, and by turns again

I cease; for grief soon satiates free indulged.

But of them all, although I all bewail,

None mourn I so as one, whom calling back

To memory, I both sleep and food abhor.

For, of Achaia's sons none ever toiled

Strenuous as Ulysses; but his lot

Was woe, and unremitting sorrow mine

For his long absence, who, if still he live,

We know not aught, or be already dead.

140 Him doubtless, old Laertes mourns, and him

Discrete Penelope, nor less his son

Telemachus, born newly when he sail'd.

So saying, he kindled in him strong desire

To mourn his father; at his father's name

Fast fell his tears to ground, and with both hands

He spread his purple cloak before his eyes;

Which Menelaus marking, doubtful sat

If he should leave him leisure for his tears,

Or question him, and tell him all at large.

150 While thus he doubted, Helen (as it chanced)

Leaving her fragrant chamber, came, august

As Dian, goddess of the golden bow.

Adrasta, for her use, set forth a throne,

Alcippe with soft arras cover'd it,

And Philo brought her silver basket, gift

Of fair Alcandra, wife of Polybus,

Whose mansion in Ægyptian Thebes is rich

In untold treasure, and who gave, himself,

Ten golden talents, and two silver baths

160 To Menelaus, with two splendid tripods

Beside the noble gifts which, at the hand

Of his illustrious spouse, Helen receiv'd;

A golden spindle, and a basket wheel'd,

Itself of silver, and its lip of gold.

That basket Philo, her own handmaid, placed

At beauteous Helen's side, charged to the brim

With slender threads, on which the spindle lay

With wool of purple lustre wrapp'd around.

Approaching, on her footstool'd throne she sat,

170 And, instant, of her royal spouse enquired.

Know we, my Menelaus, dear to Jove!

These guests of ours, and whence they have arrived?

Erroneous I may speak, yet speak I must;

In man or woman never have I seen

Such likeness to another (wonder-fixt

I gaze) as in this stranger to the son

Of brave Ulysses, whom that Hero left

New-born at home, when (shameless as I was)

For my unworthy sake the Greecians sailed

180 To Ilium, with fierce rage of battle fir'd.

Then Menelaus, thus, the golden-hair'd.

I also such resemblance find in him

As thou; such feet, such hands, the cast of eye[10]

Similar, and the head and flowing locks.

And even now, when I Ulysses named,

And his great sufferings mention'd, in my cause,

The bitter tear dropp'd from his lids, while broad

Before his eyes his purple cloak he spread.

To whom the son of Nestor thus replied.

190 Atrides! Menelaus! Chief renown'd!

He is in truth his son, as thou hast said,

But he is modest, and would much himself

Condemn, if, at his first arrival here,

He should loquacious seem and bold to thee,

To whom we listen, captived by thy voice,

As if some God had spoken. As for me,

Nestor, my father, the Gerenian Chief

Bade me conduct him hither, for he wish'd

To see thee, promising himself from thee

200 The benefit of some kind word or deed.

For, destitute of other aid, he much

His father's tedious absence mourns at home.

So fares Telemachus; his father strays

Remote, and, in his stead, no friend hath he

Who might avert the mischiefs that he feels.

To whom the Hero amber-hair'd replied.

Ye Gods! the offspring of indeed a friend

Hath reach'd my house, of one who hath endured

Arduous conflicts num'rous for my sake;

210 And much I purpos'd, had Olympian Jove

Vouchsaf'd us prosp'rous passage o'er the Deep,

To have receiv'd him with such friendship here

As none beside. In Argos I had then

Founded a city for him, and had rais'd

A palace for himself; I would have brought

The Hero hither, and his son, with all

His people, and with all his wealth, some town

Evacuating for his sake, of those

Ruled by myself, and neighb'ring close my own.

220 Thus situate, we had often interchanged

Sweet converse, nor had other cause at last

Our friendship terminated or our joys,

Than death's black cloud o'ershadowing him or me.

But such delights could only envy move

Ev'n in the Gods, who have, of all the Greeks,

Amerc'd him only of his wish'd return.

So saying, he kindled the desire to weep

In ev'ry bosom. Argive Helen wept

Abundant, Jove's own daughter; wept as fast

230 Telemachus and Menelaus both;

Nor Nestor's son with tearless eyes remain'd,

Calling to mind Antilochus[11] by the son[12]

Illustrious of the bright Aurora slain,

Rememb'ring whom, in accents wing'd he said.

Atrides! antient Nestor, when of late

Conversing with him, we remember'd thee,

Pronounced thee wise beyond all human-kind.

Now therefore, let not even my advice

Displease thee. It affords me no delight

240 To intermingle tears with my repast,

And soon, Aurora, daughter of the dawn,

Will tinge the orient. Not that I account

Due lamentation of a friend deceased

Blameworthy, since, to sheer the locks and weep,

Is all we can for the unhappy dead.

I also have my grief, call'd to lament

One, not the meanest of Achaia's sons,

My brother; him I cannot but suppose

To thee well-known, although unknown to me

250 Who saw him never;[13] but report proclaims

Antilochus superior to the most,

In speed superior, and in feats of arms.

To whom, the Hero of the yellow locks.

O friend belov'd! since nought which thou hast said

Or recommended now, would have disgraced

A man of years maturer far than thine,

(For wise thy father is, and such art thou,

And easy is it to discern the son

Of such a father, whom Saturnian Jove

260 In marriage both and at his birth ordain'd

To great felicity; for he hath giv'n

To Nestor gradually to sink at home

Into old age, and, while he lives, to see

His sons past others wise, and skill'd in arms)

The sorrow into which we sudden fell

Shall pause. Come-now remember we the feast;

Pour water on our hands, for we shall find,

(Telemachus and I) no dearth of themes

For mutual converse when the day shall dawn.

270 He ended; then, Asphalion, at his word,

Servant of glorious Menelaus, poured

Pure water on their hands, and they the feast

Before them with keen appetite assail'd.

But Jove-born Helen otherwise, meantime,

Employ'd, into the wine of which they drank

A drug infused, antidote to the pains

Of grief and anger, a most potent charm

For ills of ev'ry name. Whoe'er his wine

So medicated drinks, he shall not pour

280 All day the tears down his wan cheek, although

His father and his mother both were dead,

Nor even though his brother or his son

Had fall'n in battle, and before his eyes.

Such drugs Jove's daughter own'd, with skill prepar'd,

And of prime virtue, by the wife of Thone,

Ægyptian Polydamna, giv'n her.

For Ægypt teems with drugs, yielding no few

Which, mingled with the drink, are good, and many

Of baneful juice, and enemies to life.

290 There ev'ry man in skill medicinal

Excels, for they are sons of Pæon all.

That drug infused, she bade her servant pour

The bev'rage forth, and thus her speech resumed.

Atrides! Menelaus! dear to Jove!

These also are the sons of Chiefs renown'd,

(For Jove, as pleases him, to each assigns

Or good or evil, whom all things obey)

Now therefore, feasting at your ease reclin'd,

Listen with pleasure, for myself, the while,

300 Will matter seasonable interpose.

I cannot all rehearse, nor even name,

(Omitting none) the conflicts and exploits

Of brave Ulysses; but with what address

Successful, one atchievement he perform'd

At Ilium, where Achaia's sons endured

Such hardship, will I speak. Inflicting wounds

Dishonourable on himself, he took

A tatter'd garb, and like a serving-man

Enter'd the spacious city of your foes.

310 So veil'd, some mendicant he seem'd, although

No Greecian less deserved that name than he.

In such disguise he enter'd; all alike

Misdeem'd him; me alone he not deceived

Who challeng'd him, but, shrewd, he turn'd away.

At length, however, when I had myself

Bathed him, anointed, cloath'd him, and had sworn

Not to declare him openly in Troy

Till he should reach again the camp and fleet,

He told me the whole purpose of the Greeks.

320 Then, (many a Trojan slaughter'd,) he regain'd

The camp, and much intelligence he bore

To the Achaians. Oh what wailing then

Was heard of Trojan women! but my heart

Exulted, alter'd now, and wishing home;

For now my crime committed under force

Of Venus' influence I deplored, what time

She led me to a country far remote,

A wand'rer from the matrimonial bed,

From my own child, and from my rightful Lord

330 Alike unblemish'd both in form and mind.

Her answer'd then the Hero golden-hair'd.

Helen! thou hast well spoken. All is true.

I have the talents fathom'd and the minds

Of num'rous Heroes, and have travell'd far

Yet never saw I with these eyes in man

Such firmness as the calm Ulysses own'd;

None such as in the wooden horse he proved,

Where all our bravest sat, designing woe

And bloody havoc for the sons of Troy.

340 Thou thither cam'st, impell'd, as it should seem,

By some divinity inclin'd to give

Victory to our foes, and with thee came

Godlike Deiphobus. Thrice round about

The hollow ambush, striking with thy hand

Its sides thou went'st, and by his name didst call

Each prince of Greece feigning his consort's voice.

Myself with Diomede, and with divine

Ulysses, seated in the midst, the call

Heard plain and loud; we (Diomede and I)

350 With ardour burn'd either to quit the horse

So summon'd, or to answer from within.

But, all impatient as we were, Ulysses

Controul'd the rash design; so there the sons

Of the Achaians silent sat and mute,

And of us all Anticlus would alone

Have answer'd; but Ulysses with both hands

Compressing close his lips, saved us, nor ceased

Till Pallas thence conducted thee again.

Then thus, discrete, Telemachus replied.

360 Atrides! Menelaus! prince renown'd!

Hard was his lot whom these rare qualities

Preserved not, neither had his dauntless heart

Been iron, had he scaped his cruel doom.

But haste, dismiss us hence, that on our beds

Reposed, we may enjoy sleep, needful now.

He ceas'd; then Argive Helen gave command

To her attendant maidens to prepare

Beds in the portico with purple rugs

Resplendent, and with arras, overspread,

370 And cover'd warm with cloaks of shaggy pile.

Forth went the maidens, bearing each a torch,

And spread the couches; next, the herald them

Led forth, and in the vestibule the son

Of Nestor and the youthful Hero slept,

Telemachus; but in the interior house

Atrides, with the loveliest of her sex

Beside him, Helen of the sweeping stole.

But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,

Glow'd in the East, then from his couch arose

380 The warlike Menelaus, fresh attir'd;

His faulchion o'er his shoulders slung, he bound

His sandals fair to his unsullied feet,

And like a God issuing, at the side

Sat of Telemachus, to whom he spake.

Hero! Telemachus! what urgent cause

Hath hither led thee, to the land far-famed

Of Lacedæmon o'er the spacious Deep?

Public concern or private? Tell me true.

To whom Telemachus discrete replied.

390 Atrides! Menelaus! prince renown'd!

News seeking of my Sire, I have arrived.

My household is devour'd, my fruitful fields

Are desolated, and my palace fill'd

With enemies, who while they mutual wage

Proud competition for my mother's love,

My flocks continual slaughter, and my beeves.

For this cause, at thy knees suppliant, I beg

That thou wouldst tell me his disastrous end,

If either thou beheld'st with thine own eyes

400 His death, or from some wand'rer of the Greeks

Hast heard it; for no common woes, alas!

Was he ordain'd to share ev'n from the womb.

Neither through pity or o'erstrain'd respect

Flatter me, but explicit all relate

Which thou hast witness'd. If my noble Sire

E'er gratified thee by performance just

Of word or deed at Ilium, where ye fell

So num'rous slain in fight, oh recollect

Now his fidelity, and tell me true!

410 Then Menelaus, sighing deep, replied.

Gods! their ambition is to reach the bed

Of a brave man, however base themselves.

But as it chances, when the hart hath lay'd

Her fawns new-yean'd and sucklings yet, to rest

Within some dreadful lion's gloomy den,

She roams the hills, and in the grassy vales

Feeds heedless, till the lion, to his lair

Return'd, destroys her and her little-ones,

So them thy Sire shall terribly destroy.

420 Jove, Pallas and Apollo! oh that such

As erst in well-built Lesbos, where he strove

With Philomelides, and threw him flat,

A sight at which Achaia's sons rejoic'd,

Such, now, Ulysses might assail them all!

Short life and bitter nuptials should be theirs.

But thy enquiries neither indirect

Will I evade, nor give thee false reply,

But all that from the Antient of the Deep[14]

I have receiv'd will utter, hiding nought.

430 As yet the Gods on Ægypt's shore detained

Me wishing home, angry at my neglect

To heap their altars with slain hecatombs.

For they exacted from us evermore

Strict rev'rence of their laws. There is an isle

Amid the billowy flood, Pharos by name,

In front of Ægypt, distant from her shore

Far as a vessel by a sprightly gale

Impell'd, may push her voyage in a day.

The haven there is good, and many a ship

440 Finds wat'ring there from riv'lets on the coast.

There me the Gods kept twenty days, no breeze

Propitious granting, that might sweep the waves,

And usher to her home the flying bark.

And now had our provision, all consumed,

Left us exhausted, but a certain nymph

Pitying saved me. Daughter fair was she

Of mighty Proteus, Antient of the Deep,

Idothea named; her most my sorrows moved;

She found me from my followers all apart

450 Wand'ring (for they around the isle, with hooks

The fishes snaring roamed, by famine urged)

And standing at my side, me thus bespake.

Stranger! thou must be ideot born, or weak

At least in intellect, or thy delight

Is in distress and mis'ry, who delay'st

To leave this island, and no egress hence

Canst find, although thy famish'd people faint.

So spake the Goddess, and I thus replied.

I tell thee, whosoever of the Pow'rs

460 Divine thou art, that I am prison'd here

Not willingly, but must have, doubtless, sinn'd

Against the deathless tenants of the skies.

Yet say (for the Immortals all things know)

What God detains me, and my course forbids

Hence to my country o'er the fishy Deep?

So I; to whom the Goddess all-divine.

Stranger! I will inform thee true. A seer

Oracular, the Antient of the Deep,

Immortal Proteus, the Ægyptian, haunts

470 These shores, familiar with all Ocean's gulphs,

And Neptune's subject. He is by report

My father; him if thou art able once

To seize and bind, he will prescribe the course

With all its measured distances, by which

Thou shalt regain secure thy native shores.

He will, moreover, at thy suit declare,

Thou favour'd of the skies! what good, what ill

Hath in thine house befall'n, while absent thou

Thy voyage difficult perform'st and long.

480 She spake, and I replied-Thyself reveal

By what effectual bands I may secure

The antient Deity marine, lest, warn'd

Of my approach, he shun me and escape.

Hard task for mortal hands to bind a God!

Then thus Idothea answer'd all-divine.

I will inform thee true. Soon as the sun

Hath climb'd the middle heav'ns, the prophet old,

Emerging while the breezy zephyr blows,

And cover'd with the scum of ocean, seeks

490 His spacious cove, in which outstretch'd he lies.

The phocæ[15] also, rising from the waves,

Offspring of beauteous Halosydna, sleep

Around him, num'rous, and the fishy scent

Exhaling rank of the unfathom'd flood.

Thither conducting thee at peep of day

I will dispose thee in some safe recess,

But from among thy followers thou shalt chuse

The bravest three in all thy gallant fleet.

And now the artifices understand

500 Of the old prophet of the sea. The sum

Of all his phocæ numb'ring duly first,

He will pass through them, and when all by fives

He counted hath, will in the midst repose

Content, as sleeps the shepherd with his flock.

When ye shall see him stretch'd, then call to mind

That moment all your prowess, and prevent,

Howe'er he strive impatient, his escape.

All changes trying, he will take the form

Of ev'ry reptile on the earth, will seem

510 A river now, and now devouring fire;

But hold him ye, and grasp him still the more.

And when himself shall question you, restored

To his own form in which ye found him first

Reposing, then from farther force abstain;

Then, Hero! loose the Antient of the Deep,

And ask him, of the Gods who checks thy course

Hence to thy country o'er the fishy flood.

So saying, she plunged into the billowy waste.

I then, in various musings lost, my ships

520 Along the sea-beach station'd sought again,

And when I reach'd my galley on the shore

We supp'd, and sacred night falling from heav'n,

Slept all extended on the ocean-side.

But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,

Look'd rosy forth, pensive beside the shore

I walk'd of Ocean, frequent to the Gods

Praying devout, then chose the fittest three

For bold assault, and worthiest of my trust.

Meantime the Goddess from the bosom wide

530 Of Ocean rising, brought us thence four skins

Of phocæ, and all newly stript, a snare

Contriving subtle to deceive her Sire.

Four cradles in the sand she scoop'd, then sat

Expecting us, who in due time approach'd;

She lodg'd us side by side, and over each

A raw skin cast. Horrible to ourselves

Proved that disguise whom the pernicious scent

Of the sea-nourish'd phocæ sore annoy'd;

For who would lay him down at a whale's side?

540 But she a potent remedy devised

Herself to save us, who the nostrils sooth'd

Of each with pure ambrosia thither brought

Odorous, which the fishy scent subdued.

All morning, patient watchers, there we lay;

And now the num'rous phocæ from the Deep

Emerging, slept along the shore, and he

At noon came also, and perceiving there

His fatted monsters, through the flock his course

Took regular, and summ'd them; with the first

550 He number'd us, suspicion none of fraud

Conceiving, then couch'd also. We, at once,

Loud-shouting flew on him, and in our arms

Constrain'd him fast; nor the sea-prophet old

Call'd not incontinent his shifts to mind.

First he became a long-maned lion grim,

Then dragon, panther then, a savage boar,

A limpid stream, and an o'ershadowing tree.

We persevering held him, till at length

The Antient of the Deep, skill'd as he is

560 In wiles, yet weary, question'd me, and said.

Oh Atreus' son, by what confed'rate God

Instructed liest thou in wait for me,

To seize and hold me? what is thy desire?

So He; to whom thus answer I return'd.

Old Seer! thou know'st; why, fraudful, should'st thou ask?

It is because I have been prison'd long

Within this isle, whence I have sought in vain

Deliv'rance, till my wonted courage fails.

Yet say (for the Immortals all things know)

570 What God detains me, and my course forbids

Hence to my country o'er the fishy Deep?

So I; when thus the old one of the waves.

But thy plain duty[16] was to have adored

Jove, first, in sacrifice, and all the Gods,

That then embarking, by propitious gales

Impell'd, thou might'st have reach'd thy country soon.

For thou art doom'd ne'er to behold again

Thy friends, thy palace, or thy native shores,

Till thou have seen once more the hallow'd flood

580 Of Ægypt, and with hecatombs adored

Devout, the deathless tenants of the skies.

Then will they speed thee whither thou desir'st.

He ended, and my heart broke at his words,

Which bade me pass again the gloomy gulph

To Ægypt; tedious course, and hard to atchieve!

Yet, though in sorrow whelm'd, I thus replied.

Old prophet! I will all thy will perform.

But tell me, and the truth simply reveal;

Have the Achaians with their ships arrived

590 All safe, whom Nestor left and I, at Troy?

Or of the Chiefs have any in their barks,

Or in their followers' arms found a dire death

Unlook'd for, since that city's siege we closed?

I spake, when answer thus the God return'd.

Atrides, why these questions? Need is none

That thou should'st all my secrets learn, which once

Reveal'd, thou would'st not long dry-eyed remain.

Of those no few have died, and many live;

But leaders, two alone, in their return

600 Have died (thou also hast had war to wage)

And one, still living, roams the boundless sea.

Ajax,[17] surrounded by his galleys, died.

Him Neptune, first, against the bulky rocks

The Gyræ drove, but saved him from the Deep;

Nor had he perish'd, hated as he was

By Pallas, but for his own impious boast

In frenzy utter'd that he would escape

The billows, even in the Gods' despight.

Neptune that speech vain-glorious hearing, grasp'd

610 His trident, and the huge Gyræan rock

Smiting indignant, dash'd it half away;

Part stood, and part, on which the boaster sat

When, first, the brainsick fury seiz'd him, fell,

Bearing him with it down into the gulphs

Of Ocean, where he drank the brine, and died.

But thy own brother in his barks escaped

That fate, by Juno saved; yet when, at length,

He should have gain'd Malea's craggy shore,

Then, by a sudden tempest caught, he flew

620 With many a groan far o'er the fishy Deep

To the land's utmost point, where once his home

Thyestes had, but where Thyestes' son

Dwelt then, Ægisthus. Easy lay his course

And open thence, and, as it pleased the Gods,

The shifted wind soon bore them to their home.

He, high in exultation, trod the shore

That gave him birth, kiss'd it, and, at the sight,

The welcome sight of Greece, shed many a tear.

Yet not unseen he landed; for a spy,

630 One whom the shrewd Ægisthus had seduced

By promise of two golden talents, mark'd

His coming from a rock where he had watch'd

The year complete, lest, passing unperceived,

The King should reassert his right in arms.

Swift flew the spy with tidings to this Lord,

And He, incontinent, this project framed

Insidious. Twenty men, the boldest hearts

Of all the people, from the rest he chose,

Whom he in ambush placed, and others charged

640 Diligent to prepare the festal board.

With horses, then, and chariots forth he drove

Full-fraught with mischief, and conducting home

The unsuspicious King, amid the feast

Slew him, as at his crib men slay an ox.

Nor of thy brother's train, nor of his train

Who slew thy brother, one survived, but all,

Welt'ring in blood together, there expired.

He ended, and his words beat on my heart

As they would break it. On the sands I sat

650 Weeping, nor life nor light desiring more.

But when I had in dust roll'd me, and wept

To full satiety, mine ear again

The oracle of Ocean thus address'd.

Sit not, O son of Atreus! weeping here

Longer, for remedy can none be found;

But quick arising, trial make, how best

Thou shalt, and soonest, reach thy home again.

For either him still living thou shalt find,

Or ere thou come, Orestes shall have slain

660 The traytor, and thine eyes shall see his tomb.

He ceas'd, and I, afflicted as I was,

Yet felt my spirit at that word refresh'd,

And in wing'd accents answer thus return'd.

Of these I am inform'd; but name the third

Who, dead or living, on the boundless Deep

Is still detain'd; I dread, yet wish to hear.

So I; to whom thus Proteus in return.

Laertes' son, the Lord of Ithaca —

Him in an island weeping I beheld,

670 Guest of the nymph Calypso, by constraint

Her guest, and from his native land withheld

By sad necessity; for ships well-oar'd,

Or faithful followers hath he none, whose aid

Might speed him safely o'er the spacious flood.

But, Menelaus dear to Jove! thy fate

Ordains not thee the stroke of death to meet

In steed-fam'd Argos, but far hence the Gods

Will send thee to Elysium, and the earth's

Extremest bounds; (there Rhadamanthus dwells,

680 The golden-hair'd, and there the human kind

Enjoy the easiest life; no snow is there,

No biting winter, and no drenching show'r,

But zephyr always gently from the sea

Breathes on them to refresh the happy race)

For that fair Helen is by nuptial bands

Thy own, and thou art son-in-law of Jove.

So saying, he plunged into the billowy waste,

I then, with my brave comrades to the fleet

Return'd, deep-musing as I went, and sad.

690 No sooner had I reach'd my ship beside

The ocean, and we all had supp'd, than night

From heav'n fell on us, and, at ease reposed

Along the margin of the sea, we slept.

But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,

Look'd rosy forth, drawing our galleys down

Into the sacred Deep, we rear'd again

The mast, unfurl'd the sail, and to our seats

On board returning, thresh'd the foamy flood.

Once more, at length, within the hallow'd stream

700 Of Ægypt mooring, on the shore I slew

Whole hecatombs, and (the displeasure thus

Of the immortal Gods appeased) I reared

To Agamemnon's never-dying fame

A tomb, and finishing it, sail'd again

With such a gale from heaven vouchsafed, as sent

My ships swift-scudding to the shores of Greece.

But come-eleven days wait here, or twelve

A guest with me, when I will send thee hence

Nobly, and honour'd with illustrious gifts,

710 With polish'd chariot, with three princely steeds,

And with a gorgeous cup, that to the Gods

Libation pouring ever while thou liv'st

From that same cup, thou may'st remember me.

Him, prudent, then answer'd Telemachus.

Atrides, seek not to detain me here

Long time; for though contented I could sit

The year beside thee, nor regret my home

Or parents, (so delightful thy discourse

Sounds in my ear) yet, even now, I know,

720 That my attendants to the Pylian shore

Wish my return, whom thou thus long detain'st.

What boon soe'er thou giv'st me, be it such

As I may treasur'd keep; but horses none

Take I to Ithaca; them rather far

Keep thou, for thy own glory. Thou art Lord

Of an extended plain, where copious springs

The lotus, herbage of all savours, wheat,

Pulse, and white barley of luxuriant growth.

But Ithaca no level champaign owns,

730 A nursery of goats, and yet a land

Fairer than even pastures to the eye.

No sea-encircled isle of ours affords

Smooth course commodious and expanse of meads,

But my own Ithaca transcends them all!

He said; the Hero Menelaus smiled,

And stroaking tenderly his cheek, replied.

Dear youth! thy speech proclaims thy noble blood.

I can with ease supply thee from within

With what shall suit thee better, and the gift

740 Of all that I possess which most excels

In beauty, and the noblest shall be thine.

I give thee, wrought elaborate, a cup

Itself all silver, bound with lip of gold.

It is the work of Vulcan, which to me

The Hero Phædimus imparted, King

Of the Sidonians, when on my return

His house received me. That shall be thy own.

Thus they conferr'd; and now the busy train

Of menials culinary,[18] at the gate

750 Enter'd of Menelaus, Chief renown'd;

They brought him sheep, with heart-ennobling wine,

While all their wives, their brows with frontlets bound,

Came charg'd with bread. Thus busy they prepared

A banquet in the mansion of the King.

Meantime, before Ulysses' palace gate

The suitors sported with the quoit and spear

On the smooth area, customary scene

Of all their strife and angry clamour loud.

There sat Antinoüs, and the godlike youth

760 Eurymachus, superior to the rest

And Chiefs among them, to whom Phronius' son

Noëmon drawing nigh, with anxious mien

Question'd Antinoüs, and thus began.

Know we, Antinoüs! or know we not,

When to expect Telemachus at home

Again from Pylus? in my ship he went,

Which now I need, that I may cross the sea

To Elis, on whose spacious plain I feed

Twelve mares, each suckling a mule-colt as yet

770 Unbroken, but of which I purpose one

To ferry thence, and break him into use.

He spake, whom they astonish'd heard; for him

They deem'd not to Nelëian Pylus gone,

But haply into his own fields, his flocks

To visit, or the steward of his swine.

Then thus, Eupithes' son, Antinoüs, spake.

Say true. When sail'd he forth? of all our youth,

Whom chose he for his followers? his own train

Of slaves and hirelings? hath he pow'r to effect

780 This also? Tell me too, for I would learn —

Took he perforce thy sable bark away,

Or gav'st it to him at his first demand?

To whom Noëmon, Phronius' son, replied.

I gave it voluntary; what could'st thou,

Should such a prince petition for thy bark

In such distress? Hard were it to refuse.

Brave youths (our bravest youths except yourselves)

Attend him forth; and with them I observed

Mentor embarking, ruler o'er them all,

790 Or, if not him, a God; for such he seem'd.

But this much moves my wonder. Yester-morn

I saw, at day-break, noble Mentor here,

Whom shipp'd for Pylus I had seen before.

He ceas'd; and to his father's house return'd;

They, hearing, sat aghast. Their games meantime

Finish'd, the suitors on their seats reposed,

To whom Eupithes' son, Antinoüs, next,

Much troubled spake; a black storm overcharged

His bosom, and his vivid eyes flash'd fire.

800 Ye Gods, a proud exploit is here atchieved,

This voyage of Telemachus, by us

Pronounced impracticable; yet the boy

In downright opposition to us all,

Hath headlong launched a ship, and, with a band

Selected from our bravest youth, is gone.

He soon will prove more mischievous, whose pow'r

Jove wither, ere we suffer its effects!

But give me a swift bark with twenty rowers,

That, watching his return within the streights

810 Of rocky Samos and of Ithaca,

I may surprise him; so shall he have sail'd

To seek his Sire, fatally for himself.

He ceased and loud applause heard in reply,

With warm encouragement. Then, rising all,

Into Ulysses' house at once they throng'd.

Nor was Penelope left uninformed

Long time of their clandestine plottings deep,

For herald Medon told her all, whose ear

Their councils caught while in the outer-court

820 He stood, and they that project framed within.

Swift to Penelope the tale he bore,

Who as he pass'd the gate, him thus address'd.

For what cause, herald! have the suitors sent

Thee foremost? Wou'd they that my maidens lay

Their tasks aside, and dress the board for them?

Here end their wooing! may they hence depart

Never, and may the banquet now prepared,

This banquet prove your last![19] who in such throngs

Here meeting, waste the patrimony fair

830 Of brave Telemachus; ye never, sure,

When children, heard how gracious and how good

Ulysses dwelt among your parents, none

Of all his people, or in word or deed

Injuring, as great princes oft are wont,

By favour influenc'd now, now by disgust.

He no man wrong'd at any time; but plain

Your wicked purpose in your deeds appears,

Who sense have none of benefits conferr'd.

Then Medon answer'd thus, prudent, return'd.

840 Oh Queen! may the Gods grant this prove the worst.

But greater far and heavier ills than this

The suitors plan, whose counsels Jove confound!

Their base desire and purpose are to slay

Telemachus on his return; for he,

To gather tidings of his Sire is gone

To Pylus, or to Sparta's land divine.

He said; and where she stood, her trembling knees

Fail'd under her, and all her spirits went.

Speechless she long remain'd, tears filled her eyes,

850 And inarticulate in its passage died

Her utt'rance, till at last with pain she spake.

Herald! why went my son? he hath no need

On board swift ships to ride, which are to man

His steeds that bear him over seas remote.

Went he, that, with himself, his very name

Might perish from among mankind for ever?

Then answer, thus, Medon the wise return'd.

I know not whether him some God impell'd

Or his own heart to Pylus, there to hear

860 News of his Sire's return, or by what fate

At least he died, if he return no more.

He said, and traversing Ulysses' courts,

Departed; she with heart consuming woe

O'erwhelm'd, no longer could endure to take

Repose on any of her num'rous seats,

But on the threshold of her chamber-door

Lamenting sat, while all her female train

Around her moan'd, the antient and the young,

Whom, sobbing, thus Penelope bespake.

870 Hear me, ye maidens! for of women born

Coeval with me, none hath e'er received

Such plenteous sorrow from the Gods as I,

Who first my noble husband lost, endued

With courage lion-like, of all the Greeks

The Chief with ev'ry virtue most adorn'd,

A prince all-excellent, whose glorious praise

Through Hellas and all Argos flew diffused.

And now, my darling son, — him storms have snatch'd

Far hence inglorious, and I knew it not.

880 Ah treach'rous servants! conscious as ye were

Of his design, not one of you the thought

Conceived to wake me when he went on board.

For had but the report once reach'd my ear,

He either had not gone (how much soe'er

He wish'd to leave me) or had left me dead.

But haste ye, — bid my antient servant come,

Dolion, whom (when I left my father's house

He gave me, and whose office is to attend

My num'rous garden-plants) that he may seek

890 At once Laertes, and may tell him all,

Who may contrive some remedy, perchance,

Or fit expedient, and shall come abroad

To weep before the men who wish to slay

Even the prince, godlike Ulysses' son.

Then thus the gentle Euryclea spake,

Nurse of Telemachus. Alas! my Queen!

Slay me, or spare, deal with me as thou wilt,

I will confess the truth. I knew it all.

I gave him all that he required from me.

900 Both wine and bread, and, at his bidding, swore

To tell thee nought in twelve whole days to come,

Or till, enquiry made, thou should'st thyself

Learn his departure, lest thou should'st impair

Thy lovely features with excess of grief.

But lave thyself, and, fresh attired, ascend

To thy own chamber, there, with all thy train,

To worship Pallas, who shall save, thenceforth,

Thy son from death, what ills soe'er he meet.

Add not fresh sorrows to the present woes

910 Of the old King, for I believe not yet

Arcesias' race entirely by the Gods

Renounced, but trust that there shall still be found

Among them, who shall dwell in royal state,

And reap the fruits of fertile fields remote.

So saying, she hush'd her sorrow, and her eyes

No longer stream'd. Then, bathed and fresh attired,

Penelope ascended with her train

The upper palace, and a basket stored

With hallow'd cakes off'ring, to Pallas pray'd.

920 Hear matchless daughter of Jove Ægis-arm'd!

If ever wise Ulysses offer'd here

The thighs of fatted kine or sheep to thee,

Now mindful of his piety, preserve

His darling son, and frustrate with a frown

The cruelty of these imperious guests!

She said, and wept aloud, whose earnest suit

Pallas received. And now the spacious hall

And gloomy passages with tumult rang

And clamour of that throng, when thus, a youth,

930 Insolent as his fellows, dared to speak.

Much woo'd and long, the Queen at length prepares

To chuse another mate,[20] and nought suspects

The bloody death to which her son is doom'd.

So he; but they, meantime, themselves remain'd

Untaught, what course the dread concern elsewhere

Had taken, whom Antinoüs thus address'd.

Sirs! one and all, I counsel you, beware

Of such bold boasting unadvised; lest one

O'erhearing you, report your words within.

940 No-rather thus, in silence, let us move

To an exploit so pleasant to us all.

He said, and twenty chose, the bravest there,

With whom he sought the galley on the shore,

Which drawing down into the deep, they placed

The mast and sails on board, and, sitting, next,

Each oar in order to its proper groove,

Unfurl'd and spread their canvas to the gale.

Their bold attendants, then, brought them their arms,

And soon as in deep water they had moor'd

950 The ship, themselves embarking, supp'd on board,

And watch'd impatient for the dusk of eve.

But when Penelope, the palace stairs

Remounting, had her upper chamber reach'd,

There, unrefresh'd with either food or wine,

She lay'd her down, her noble son the theme

Of all her thoughts, whether he should escape

His haughty foes, or perish by their hands.

Num'rous as are the lion's thoughts, who sees,

Not without fear, a multitude with toils

960 Encircling him around, such num'rous thoughts

Her bosom occupied, till sleep at length

Invading her, she sank in soft repose.

Then Pallas, teeming with a new design,

Set forth an airy phantom in the form

Of fair Iphthima, daughter of the brave

Icarius, and Eumelus' wedded wife

In Pheræ. Shaped like her the dream she sent

Into the mansion of the godlike Chief

Ulysses, with kind purpose to abate

970 The sighs and tears of sad Penelope.

Ent'ring the chamber-portal, where the bolt

Secured it, at her head the image stood,

And thus, in terms compassionate, began.

Sleep'st thou, distress'd Penelope? The Gods,

Happy in everlasting rest themselves,

Forbid thy sorrows. Thou shalt yet behold

Thy son again, who hath by no offence

Incurr'd at any time the wrath of heav'n.

To whom, sweet-slumb'ring in the shadowy gate

980 By which dreams pass, Penelope replied.

What cause, my sister, brings thee, who art seen

Unfrequent here, for that thou dwell'st remote?

And thou enjoin'st me a cessation too

From sorrows num'rous, and which, fretting, wear

My heart continual; first, my spouse I lost

With courage lion-like endow'd, a prince

All-excellent, whose never-dying praise

Through Hellas and all Argos flew diffused;

And now my only son, new to the toils

990 And hazards of the sea, nor less untaught

The arts of traffic, in a ship is gone

Far hence, for whose dear cause I sorrow more

Than for his Sire himself, and even shake

With terror, lest he perish by their hands

To whom he goes, or in the stormy Deep;

For num'rous are his foes, and all intent

To slay him, ere he reach his home again.

Then answer thus the shadowy form return'd.

Take courage; suffer not excessive dread

1000 To overwhelm thee, such a guide he hath

And guardian, one whom many wish their friend,

And ever at their side, knowing her pow'r,

Minerva; she compassionates thy griefs,

And I am here her harbinger, who speak

As thou hast heard by her own kind command.

Then thus Penelope the wise replied.

Oh! if thou art a goddess, and hast heard

A Goddess' voice, rehearse to me the lot

Of that unhappy one, if yet he live

1010 Spectator of the cheerful beams of day,

Or if, already dead, he dwell below.

Whom answer'd thus the fleeting shadow vain.

I will not now inform thee if thy Lord

Live, or live not. Vain words are best unspoken.

So saying, her egress swift beside the bolt

She made, and melted into air. Upsprang

From sleep Icarius' daughter, and her heart

Felt heal'd within her, by that dream distinct

Visited in the noiseless night serene.

1020 Meantime the suitors urged their wat'ry way,

To instant death devoting in their hearts

Telemachus. There is a rocky isle

In the mid sea, Samos the rude between

And Ithaca, not large, named Asteris.

It hath commodious havens, into which

A passage clear opens on either side,

And there the ambush'd Greeks his coming watch'd.

Aurora from beside her glorious mate

Tithonus now arose, light to dispense

Through earth and heav'n, when the assembled Gods

In council sat, o'er whom high-thund'ring Jove

Presided, mightiest of the Pow'rs above.

Amid them, Pallas on the num'rous woes

Descanted of Ulysses, whom she saw

With grief, still prison'd in Calypso's isle.

Jove, Father, hear me, and ye other Pow'rs

Who live for ever, hear! Be never King

10 Henceforth to gracious acts inclined, humane,

Or righteous, but let ev'ry sceptred hand

Rule merciless, and deal in wrong alone,

Since none of all his people whom he sway'd

With such paternal gentleness and love

Remembers, now, divine Ulysses more.

He, in yon distant isle a suff'rer lies

Of hopeless sorrow, through constraint the guest

Still of the nymph Calypso, without means

Or pow'r to reach his native shores again,

20 Alike of gallant barks and friends depriv'd,

Who might conduct him o'er the spacious Deep.

Nor is this all, but enemies combine

To slay his son ere yet he can return

From Pylus, whither he hath gone to learn

There, or in Sparta, tidings of his Sire.

To whom the cloud-assembler God replied.

What word hath pass'd thy lips, daughter belov'd?

Hast thou not purpos'd that arriving soon

At home, Ulysses shall destroy his foes?

30 Guide thou, Telemachus, (for well thou canst)

That he may reach secure his native coast,

And that the suitors baffled may return.

He ceas'd, and thus to Hermes spake, his son.

Hermes! (for thou art herald of our will

At all times) to yon bright-hair'd nymph convey

Our fix'd resolve, that brave Ulysses thence

Depart, uncompanied by God or man.

Borne on a corded raft, and suff'ring woe

Extreme, he on the twentieth day shall reach,

40 Not sooner, Scherie the deep-soil'd, possess'd

By the Phæacians, kinsmen of the Gods.

They, as a God shall reverence the Chief,

And in a bark of theirs shall send him thence

To his own home, much treasure, brass and gold

And raiment giving him, to an amount

Surpassing all that, had he safe return'd,

He should by lot have shared of Ilium's spoil.

Thus Fate appoints Ulysses to regain

His country, his own palace, and his friends.

50 He ended, nor the Argicide refused,

Messenger of the skies; his sandals fair,

Ambrosial, golden, to his feet he bound,

Which o'er the moist wave, rapid as the wind,

Bear him, and o'er th' illimitable earth,

Then took his rod with which, at will, all eyes

He closes soft, or opes them wide again.

So arm'd, forth flew the valiant Argicide.

Alighting on Pieria, down he stoop'd

To Ocean, and the billows lightly skimm'd

60 In form a sew-mew, such as in the bays

Tremendous of the barren Deep her food

Seeking, dips oft in brine her ample wing.

In such disguise o'er many a wave he rode,

But reaching, now, that isle remote, forsook

The azure Deep, and at the spacious grot,

Where dwelt the amber-tressed nymph arrived,

Found her within. A fire on all the hearth

Blazed sprightly, and, afar-diffused, the scent

Of smooth-split cedar and of cypress-wood

70 Odorous, burning, cheer'd the happy isle.

She, busied at the loom, and plying fast

Her golden shuttle, with melodious voice

Sat chaunting there; a grove on either side,

Alder and poplar, and the redolent branch

Wide-spread of Cypress, skirted dark the cave.

There many a bird of broadest pinion built

Secure her nest, the owl, the kite, and daw

Long-tongued, frequenter of the sandy shores.

A garden-vine luxuriant on all sides

80 Mantled the spacious cavern, cluster-hung

Profuse; four fountains of serenest lymph

Their sinuous course pursuing side by side,

Stray'd all around, and ev'ry where appear'd

Meadows of softest verdure, purpled o'er

With violets; it was a scene to fill

A God from heav'n with wonder and delight.

Hermes, Heav'n's messenger, admiring stood

That sight, and having all survey'd, at length

Enter'd the grotto; nor the lovely nymph

90 Him knew not soon as seen, for not unknown

Each to the other the Immortals are,

How far soever sep'rate their abodes.

Yet found he not within the mighty Chief

Ulysses; he sat weeping on the shore,

Forlorn, for there his custom was with groans

Of sad regret t' afflict his breaking heart.

Looking continual o'er the barren Deep.

Then thus Calypso, nymph divine, the God

Question'd, from her resplendent throne august.

100 Hermes! possessor of the potent rod!

Who, though by me much reverenc'd and belov'd,

So seldom com'st, say, wherefore comest now?

Speak thy desire; I grant it, if thou ask

Things possible, and possible to me.

Stay not, but ent'ring farther, at my board

Due rites of hospitality receive.

So saying, the Goddess with ambrosial food

Her table cover'd, and with rosy juice

Nectareous charged the cup. Then ate and drank

110 The argicide and herald of the skies,

And in his soul with that repast divine

Refresh'd, his message to the nymph declared.

Questionest thou, O Goddess, me a God?

I tell thee truth, since such is thy demand.

Not willing, but by Jove constrain'd, I come.

For who would, voluntary, such a breadth

Enormous measure of the salt expanse,

Where city none is seen in which the Gods

Are served with chosen hecatombs and pray'r?

120 But no divinity may the designs

Elude, or controvert, of Jove supreme.

He saith, that here thou hold'st the most distrest

Of all those warriors who nine years assail'd

The city of Priam, and, (that city sack'd)

Departed in the tenth; but, going thence,

Offended Pallas, who with adverse winds

Opposed their voyage, and with boist'rous waves.

Then perish'd all his gallant friends, but him

Billows and storms drove hither; Jove commands

130 That thou dismiss him hence without delay,

For fate ordains him not to perish here

From all his friends remote, but he is doom'd

To see them yet again, and to arrive

At his own palace in his native land.

He said; divine Calypso at the sound

Shudder'd, and in wing'd accents thus replied.

Ye are unjust, ye Gods, and envious past

All others, grudging if a Goddess take

A mortal man openly to her arms!

140 So, when the rosy-finger'd Morning chose

Orion, though ye live yourselves at ease,

Yet ye all envied her, until the chaste

Diana from her golden throne dispatch'd

A silent shaft, which slew him in Ortygia.

So, when the golden-tressed Ceres, urged

By passion, took Iäsion to her arms

In a thrice-labour'd fallow, not untaught

Was Jove that secret long, and, hearing it,

Indignant, slew him with his candent bolt.

150 So also, O ye Gods, ye envy me

The mortal man, my comfort. Him I saved

Myself, while solitary on his keel

He rode, for with his sulph'rous arrow Jove

Had cleft his bark amid the sable Deep.

Then perish'd all his gallant friends, but him

Billows and storms drove hither, whom I lov'd

Sincere, and fondly destin'd to a life

Immortal, unobnoxious to decay.

But since no Deity may the designs

160 Elude or controvert of Jove supreme,

Hence with him o'er the barren Deep, if such

The Sov'reign's will, and such his stern command.

But undismiss'd he goes by me, who ships

Myself well-oar'd and mariners have none

To send with him athwart the spacious flood;

Yet freely, readily, my best advice

I will afford him, that, escaping all

Danger, he may regain his native shore.

Then Hermes thus, the messenger of heav'n.

170 Act as thou say'st, fearing the frown of Jove,

Lest, if provoked, he spare not even thee.

So saying, the dauntless Argicide withdrew,

And she (Jove's mandate heard) all-graceful went,

Seeking the brave Ulysses; on the shore

She found him seated; tears succeeding tears

Delug'd his eyes, while, hopeless of return,

Life's precious hours to eating cares he gave

Continual, with the nymph now charm'd no more.

Yet, cold as she was am'rous, still he pass'd

180 His nights beside her in the hollow grot,

Constrain'd, and day by day the rocks among

Which lined the shore heart-broken sat, and oft

While wistfully he eyed the barren Deep,

Wept, groaned, desponded, sigh'd, and wept again.

Then, drawing near, thus spake the nymph divine.

Unhappy! weep not here, nor life consume

In anguish; go; thou hast my glad consent.

Arise to labour; hewing down the trunks

Of lofty trees, fashion them with the ax

190 To a broad raft, which closely floor'd above,

Shall hence convey thee o'er the gloomy Deep.

Bread, water, and the red grape's cheering juice

Myself will put on board, which shall preserve

Thy life from famine; I will also give

New raiment for thy limbs, and will dispatch

Winds after thee to waft thee home unharm'd,

If such the pleasure of the Gods who dwell

In yonder boundless heav'n, superior far

To me, in knowledge and in skill to judge.

200 She ceas'd; but horror at that sound the heart

Chill'd of Ulysses, and in accents wing'd

With wonder, thus the noble Chief replied.

Ah! other thoughts than of my safe return

Employ thee, Goddess, now, who bid'st me pass

The perilous gulph of Ocean on a raft,

That wild expanse terrible, which even ships

Pass not, though form'd to cleave their way with ease,

And joyful in propitious winds from Jove.

No-let me never, in despight of thee,

210 Embark on board a raft, nor till thou swear,

O Goddess! the inviolable oath,

That future mischief thou intend'st me none.

He said; Calypso, beauteous Goddess, smiled,

And, while she spake, stroaking his cheek, replied.

Thou dost asperse me rudely, and excuse

Of ignorance hast none, far better taught;

What words were these? How could'st thou thus reply?

Now hear me Earth, and the wide Heav'n above!

Hear, too, ye waters of the Stygian stream

220 Under the earth (by which the blessed Gods

Swear trembling, and revere the awful oath!)

That future mischief I intend thee none.

No, my designs concerning thee are such

As, in an exigence resembling thine,

Myself, most sure, should for myself conceive.

I have a mind more equal, not of steel

My heart is form'd, but much to pity inclined.

So saying, the lovely Goddess with swift pace

Led on, whose footsteps he as swift pursued.

230 Within the vaulted cavern they arrived,

The Goddess and the man; on the same throne

Ulysses sat, whence Hermes had aris'n,

And viands of all kinds, such as sustain

The life of mortal man, Calypso placed

Before him, both for bev'rage and for food.

She opposite to the illustrious Chief

Reposed, by her attendant maidens served

With nectar and ambrosia. They their hands

Stretch'd forth together to the ready feast,

240 And when nor hunger more nor thirst remain'd

Unsated, thus the beauteous nymph began.

Laertes' noble son, for wisdom famed

And artifice! oh canst thou thus resolve

To seek, incontinent, thy native shores?

I pardon thee. Farewell! but could'st thou guess

The woes which fate ordains thee to endure

Ere yet thou reach thy country, well-content

Here to inhabit, thou would'st keep my grot

And be immortal, howsoe'er thy wife

250 Engage thy ev'ry wish day after day.

Yet can I not in stature or in form

Myself suspect inferior aught to her,

Since competition cannot be between

Mere mortal beauties, and a form divine.

To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.

Awful Divinity! be not incensed.

I know that my Penelope in form

And stature altogether yields to thee,

For she is mortal, and immortal thou,

260 From age exempt; yet not the less I wish

My home, and languish daily to return.

But should some God amid the sable Deep

Dash me again into a wreck, my soul

Shall bear that also; for, by practice taught,

I have learned patience, having much endured

By tempest and in battle both. Come then

This evil also! I am well prepared.

He ended, and the sun sinking, resign'd

The earth to darkness. Then in a recess

270 Interior of the cavern, side by side

Reposed, they took their amorous delight.

But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,

Look'd rosy forth, Ulysses then in haste

Put on his vest and mantle, and, the nymph

Her snowy vesture of transparent woof,

Graceful, redundant; to her waist she bound

Her golden zone, and veil'd her beauteous head,

Then, musing, plann'd the noble Chief's return.

She gave him, fitted to the grasp, an ax

280 Of iron, pond'rous, double-edg'd, with haft

Of olive-wood, inserted firm, and wrought

With curious art. Then, placing in his hand

A polish'd adze, she led, herself, the way

To her isles' utmost verge, where tallest trees

But dry long since and sapless stood, which best

Might serve his purposes, as buoyant most,

The alder, poplar, and cloud-piercing fir.

To that tall grove she led and left him there,

Seeking her grot again. Then slept not He,

290 But, swinging with both hands the ax, his task

Soon finish'd; trees full twenty to the ground

He cast, which, dext'rous, with his adze he smooth'd,

The knotted surface chipping by a line.

Meantime the lovely Goddess to his aid

Sharp augres brought, with which he bored the beams,

Then, side by side placing them, fitted each

To other, and with long cramps join'd them all.

Broad as an artist, skill'd in naval works,

The bottom of a ship of burthen spreads,

300 Such breadth Ulysses to his raft assign'd.

He deck'd her over with long planks, upborne

On massy beams; He made the mast, to which

He added suitable the yard;-he framed

Rudder and helm to regulate her course,

With wicker-work he border'd all her length

For safety, and much ballast stow'd within.

Meantime, Calypso brought him for a sail

Fittest materials, which he also shaped,

And to his sail due furniture annex'd

310 Of cordage strong, foot-ropes, and ropes aloft,

Then heav'd her down with levers to the Deep.

He finish'd all his work on the fourth day,

And on the fifth, Calypso, nymph divine,

Dismiss'd him from her isle, but laved him first,

And cloath'd him in sweet-scented garments new.

Two skins the Goddess also placed on board,

One charg'd with crimson wine, and ampler one

With water, nor a bag with food replete

Forgot, nutritious, grateful to the taste,

320 Nor yet, her latest gift, a gentle gale

And manageable, which Ulysses spread,

Exulting, all his canvas to receive.

Beside the helm he sat, steering expert,

Nor sleep fell ever on his eyes that watch'd

Intent the Pleiads, tardy in decline

Bootes, and the Bear, call'd else the Wain,

Which, in his polar prison circling, looks

Direct toward Orion, and alone

Of these sinks never to the briny Deep.

330 That star the lovely Goddess bade him hold

Continual on his left through all his course.

Ten days and sev'n, he, navigating, cleav'd

The brine, and on the eighteenth day, at length,

The shadowy mountains of Phæacia's land

Descried, where nearest to his course it lay

Like a broad buckler on the waves afloat.

But Neptune, now returning from the land

Of Ethiopia, mark'd him on his raft

Skimming the billows, from the mountain-tops

340 Of distant Solyma.[21] With tenfold wrath

Inflamed that sight he view'd, his brows he shook,

And thus within himself, indignant, spake.

So then-new counsels in the skies, it seems,

Propitious to Ulysses, have prevail'd

Since Æthiopia hath been my abode.

He sees Phæacia nigh, where he must leap

The bound'ry of his woes; but ere that hour

Arrive, I will ensure him many a groan.

So saying, he grasp'd his trident, gather'd dense

350 The clouds and troubled ocean; ev'ry storm

From ev'ry point he summon'd, earth and sea

Darkening, and the night fell black from heav'n.

The East, the South, the heavy-blowing West,

And the cold North-wind clear, assail'd at once

His raft, and heaved on high the billowy flood.

All hope, all courage, in that moment, lost,

The Hero thus within himself complain'd.

Wretch that I am, what destiny at last

Attends me! much I fear the Goddess' words

360 All true, which threaten'd me with num'rous ills

On the wide sea, ere I should reach my home.

Behold them all fulfill'd! with what a storm

Jove hangs the heav'ns, and agitates the Deep!

The winds combined beat on me. Now I sink!

Thrice blest, and more than thrice, Achaia's sons

At Ilium slain for the Atridæ' sake!

Ah, would to heav'n that, dying, I had felt

That day the stroke of fate, when me the dead

Achilles guarding, with a thousand spears

370 Troy's furious host assail'd! Funereal rites

I then had shared, and praise from ev'ry Greek,

Whom now the most inglorious death awaits.

While thus he spake, a billow on his head

Bursting impetuous, whirl'd the raft around,

And, dashing from his grasp the helm, himself

Plunged far remote. Then came a sudden gust

Of mingling winds, that in the middle snapp'd

His mast, and, hurried o'er the waves afar,

Both sail and sail-yard fell into the flood.

380 Long time submerged he lay, nor could with ease

The violence of that dread shock surmount,

Or rise to air again, so burthensome

His drench'd apparel proved; but, at the last,

He rose, and, rising, sputter'd from his lips

The brine that trickled copious from his brows.

Nor, harass'd as he was, resign'd he yet

His raft, but buffetting the waves aside

With desp'rate efforts, seized it, and again

Fast seated on the middle deck, escaped.

390 Then roll'd the raft at random in the flood,

Wallowing unwieldy, toss'd from wave to wave.

As when in autumn, Boreas o'er the plain

Conglomerated thorns before him drives,

They, tangled, to each other close adhere,

So her the winds drove wild about the Deep.

By turns the South consign'd her to be sport

For the rude North-wind, and, by turns, the East

Yielded her to the worrying West a prey.

But Cadmus' beauteous daughter (Ino once,

400 Now named Leucothea) saw him; mortal erst

Was she, and trod the earth,[22] but nymph become

Of Ocean since, in honours shares divine.

She mark'd his anguish, and, while toss'd he roam'd,

Pitied Ulysses; from the flood, in form

A cormorant, she flew, and on the raft

Close-corded perching, thus the Chief address'd.

Alas! unhappy! how hast thou incensed

So terribly the Shaker of the shores,

That he pursues thee with such num'rous ills?

410 Sink thee he cannot, wish it as he may.

Thus do (for I account thee not unwise)

Thy garments putting off, let drive thy raft

As the winds will, then, swimming, strive to reach

Phæacia, where thy doom is to escape.

Take this. This ribbon bind beneath thy breast,

Celestial texture. Thenceforth ev'ry fear

Of death dismiss, and, laying once thy hands

On the firm continent, unbind the zone,

Which thou shalt cast far distant from the shore

420 Into the Deep, turning thy face away.

So saying, the Goddess gave into his hand

The wond'rous zone, and, cormorant in form,

Plunging herself into the waves again

Headlong, was hidden by the closing flood.

But still Ulysses sat perplex'd, and thus

The toil-enduring Hero reason'd sad.

Alas! I tremble lest some God design

T' ensnare me yet, bidding me quit the raft.

But let me well beware how I obey

430 Too soon that precept, for I saw the land

Of my foretold deliv'rance far remote.

Thus, therefore, will I do, for such appears

My wiser course. So long as yet the planks

Mutual adhere, continuing on board

My raft, I will endure whatever woes,

But when the waves shall shatter it, I will swim,

My sole resource then left. While thus he mused,

Neptune a billow of enormous bulk

Hollow'd into an overwhelming arch

440 On high up-heaving, smote him. As the wind

Tempestuous, falling on some stubble-heap,

The arid straws dissipates ev'ry way,

So flew the timbers. He, a single beam

Bestriding, oar'd it onward with his feet,

As he had urged an horse. His raiment, then,

Gift of Calypso, putting off, he bound

His girdle on, and prone into the sea

With wide-spread palms prepar'd for swimming, fell.

Shore-shaker Neptune noted him; he shook

450 His awful brows, and in his heart he said,

Thus, suff'ring many mis'ries roam the flood,

Till thou shalt mingle with a race of men

Heav'n's special favourites; yet even there

Fear not that thou shalt feel thy sorrows light.

He said, and scourging his bright steeds, arrived

At Ægæ, where his glorious palace stands.

But other thoughts Minerva's mind employ'd

Jove's daughter; ev'ry wind binding beside,

She lull'd them, and enjoin'd them all to sleep,

460 But roused swift Boreas, and the billows broke

Before Ulysses, that, deliver'd safe

From a dire death, the noble Chief might mix

With maritime Phæacia's sons renown'd.

Two nights he wander'd, and two days, the flood

Tempestuous, death expecting ev'ry hour;

But when Aurora, radiant-hair'd, had brought

The third day to a close, then ceas'd the wind,

And breathless came a calm; he, nigh at hand

The shore beheld, darting acute his sight

470 Toward it, from a billow's tow'ring top.

Precious as to his children seems the life

Of some fond father through disease long time

And pain stretch'd languid on his couch, the prey

Of some vindictive Pow'r, but now, at last,

By gracious heav'n to ease and health restored,

So grateful to Ulysses' sight appear'd

Forests and hills. Impatient with his feet

To press the shore, he swam; but when within

Such distance as a shout may fly, he came,

480 The thunder of the sea against the rocks

Then smote his ear; for hoarse the billows roar'd

On the firm land, belch'd horrible abroad,

And the salt spray dimm'd all things to his view.

For neither port for ships nor shelt'ring cove

Was there, but the rude coast a headland bluff

Presented, rocks and craggy masses huge.

Then, hope and strength exhausted both, deep-groan'd

The Chief, and in his noble heart complain'd.

Alas! though Jove hath given me to behold,

490 Unhoped, the land again, and I have pass'd,

Furrowing my way, these num'rous waves, there seems

No egress from the hoary flood for me.

Sharp stones hem in the waters; wild the surge

Raves ev'ry where; and smooth the rocks arise;

Deep also is the shore, on which my feet

No standing gain, or chance of safe escape.

What if some billow catch me from the Deep

Emerging, and against the pointed rocks

Dash me conflicting with its force in vain?

500 But should I, swimming, trace the coast in search

Of sloping beach, haven or shelter'd creek,

I fear lest, groaning, I be snatch'd again

By stormy gusts into the fishy Deep,

Or lest some monster of the flood receive

Command to seize me, of the many such

By the illustrious Amphitrite bred;

For that the mighty Shaker of the shores

Hates me implacable, too well I know.

While such discourse within himself he held,

510 A huge wave heav'd him on the rugged coast,

Where flay'd his flesh had been, and all his bones

Broken together, but for the infused

Good counsel of Minerva azure-eyed.

With both hands suddenly he seized the rock,

And, groaning, clench'd it till the billow pass'd.

So baffled he that wave; but yet again

The refluent flood rush'd on him, and with force

Resistless dash'd him far into the sea.

As pebbles to the hollow polypus

520 Extracted from his stony bed, adhere,

So he, the rough rocks clasping, stripp'd his hands

Raw, and the billows now whelm'd him again.

Then had the hapless Hero premature

Perish'd, but for sagacity inspired

By Pallas azure-eyed. Forth from the waves

Emerging, where the surf burst on the rocks,

He coasted (looking landward as he swam)

The shore, with hope of port or level beach.

But when, still swimming, to the mouth he came

530 Of a smooth-sliding river, there he deem'd

Safest th' ascent, for it was undeform'd

By rocks, and shelter'd close from ev'ry wind.

He felt the current, and thus, ardent, pray'd.

O hear, whate'er thy name, Sov'reign, who rul'st

This river! at whose mouth, from all the threats

Of Neptune 'scap'd, with rapture I arrive.

Even the Immortal Gods the wand'rer's pray'r

Respect, and such am I, who reach, at length,

Thy stream, and clasp thy knees, after long toil.

540 I am thy suppliant. Oh King! pity me.

He said; the river God at once repress'd

His current, and it ceas'd; smooth he prepared

The way before Ulysses, and the land

Vouchsafed him easy at his channel's mouth.

There, once again he bent for ease his limbs

Both arms and knees, in conflict with the floods

Exhausted; swoln his body was all o'er,

And from his mouth and nostrils stream'd the brine.

Breathless and speechless, and of life well nigh

550 Bereft he lay, through dreadful toil immense.

But when, revived, his dissipated pow'rs

He recollected, loosing from beneath

His breast the zone divine, he cast it far

Into the brackish stream, and a huge wave

Returning bore it downward to the sea,

Where Ino caught it. Then, the river's brink

Abandoning, among the rushes prone

He lay, kiss'd oft the soil, and sighing, said,

Ah me! what suff'rings must I now sustain,

560 What doom, at last, awaits me? If I watch

This woeful night, here, at the river's side,

What hope but that the frost and copious dews,

Weak as I am, my remnant small of life

Shall quite extinguish, and the chilly air

Breath'd from the river at the dawn of day?

But if, ascending this declivity

I gain the woods, and in some thicket sleep,

(If sleep indeed can find me overtoil'd

And cold-benumb'd) then I have cause to fear

570 Lest I be torn by wild beasts, and devour'd.

Long time he mused, but, at the last, his course

Bent to the woods, which not remote he saw

From the sea-brink, conspicuous on a hill.

Arrived, between two neighbour shrubs he crept,

Both olives, this the fruitful, that the wild;

A covert, which nor rough winds blowing moist

Could penetrate, nor could the noon-day sun

Smite through it, or unceasing show'rs pervade,

So thick a roof the ample branches form'd

58 °Close interwoven; under these the Chief

Retiring, with industrious hands a bed

Collected broad of leaves, which there he found

Abundant strew'd, such store as had sufficed

Two travellers or three for cov'ring warm,

Though winter's roughest blasts had rag'd the while.

That bed with joy the suff'ring Chief renown'd

Contemplated, and occupying soon

The middle space, hillock'd it high with leaves.

As when some swain hath hidden deep his torch

590 Beneath the embers, at the verge extreme

Of all his farm, where, having neighbours none,

He saves a seed or two of future flame

Alive, doom'd else to fetch it from afar,

So with dry leaves Ulysses overspread

His body, on whose eyes Minerva pour'd

The balm of sleep copious, that he might taste

Repose again, after long toil severe.