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THE ODYSSEY

The remarkable success which met the translation of The Iliad, encouraged Pope to attempt The Odyssey. He had already made some experiment at translating certain fragments, which had been published in one of Lintot’s Miscellanies in 1714. His experience with The Iliad had, however, left him no strong inclination for the drudgery of translation. He therefore enlisted the services of two friends, Fenton and Broome. Eventually he himself translated only the third, fifth, seventh, ninth, thirteenth, fourteenth, seventeenth, twenty-first, twenty-second, and twenty-fourth books, and most of the tenth and the fifteenth. Pope was slow in admitting publicly the extent of his indebtedness to his collaborators, but it has long been known that Fenton translated the first, fourth, nineteenth, and twentieth books, and Broome the rest. Fenton’s manuscript has been preserved in the British Museum and shows few alterations in Pope’s hand. Broome’s work is said to have needed much more careful revision, but there is no direct evidence in the matter. Broome supplied all the notes. With the exception of the hardly distinguishable portions of the tenth and fifteenth books which he accredited to his helpers, only Pope’s own work is included here.

BOOK III

THE INTERVIEW OF TELEMACHUS AND NESTOR

THE ARGUMENT

Telemachus, guided by Pallas in the shape of Mentor, arrives in the morning at Pylos, where Nestor and his sons are sacrificing on the sea-shore to Neptune. Telemachus declares the occasion of his coming, and Nestor relates what passed in their return from Troy, how their fleets were separated, and he never since heard of Ulysses. They discourse concerning the death of Agamemnon, the revenge of Orestes, and the injuries of the suitors. Nestor advises him to go to Sparta, and inquire further of Menelaus. The sacrifice ending with the night, Minerva vanishes from them in the form of an eagle: Telemachus is lodged in the palace. The next morning they sacrifice a bullock to Minerva; and Telemachus proceeds on his journey to Sparta, attended by Pisistratus.

The scene lies on the sea-shore of Pylos.

- The sacred Sun, above the waters rais’d,
- Thro’ Heav’n’s eternal brazen portals blazed;
- And wide o’er earth diffused his cheering ray,
- To Gods and men to give the golden day.
- Now on the coast of Pyle the vessel falls,
- Before old Neleus’ venerable walls.
- There, suppliant to the Monarch of the Flood,
- At nine green theatres the Pylians stood.
- Each held five hundred (a deputed train),
- At each, nine oxen on the sand lay slain.10
- They taste the entrails, and the altars load
- With smoking thighs, an off’ring to the God.
- Full for the port the Ithacensians stand,
- And furl their sails, and issue on the land.
- Telemachus already press’d the shore;
- Not first; the Power of Wisdom march’d before,
- And, ere the sacrificing throng he join’d,
- Admonish’d thus his well-attending mind:
- ‘Proceed, my son! this youthful shame expel;
- An honest business never blush to tell.20
- To learn what Fates thy wretched sire detain,
- We pass’d the wide immeasurable main.
- Meet then the senior far renown’d for sense,
- With rev’rend awe, but decent confidence:
- Urge him with truth to frame his fair replies;
- And sure he will: for Wisdom never lies.’
- ‘O tell me, Mentor! tell me, faithful guide’
- (The youth with prudent modesty replied),
- ‘How shall I meet, or how accost the sage,
- Unskill’d in speech, nor yet mature of age.30
- Awful th’ approach, and hard the task appears,
- To question wisely men of riper years.’
- To whom the martial Goddess thus rejoin’d:
- ‘Search, for some thoughts, thy own suggesting mind;
- And others, dictated by heav’nly Power,
- Shall rise spontaneous in the needful hour.
- For nought unprosperous shall thy ways attend,
- Born with good omens, and with Heav’n thy friend.’
- She spoke, and led the way with swiftest speed:
- As swift, the youth pursued the way she led;40
- And join’d the band before the sacred fire,
- Where sate encompass’d with his sons, the sire.
- The youth of Pylos, some on pointed wood
- Transfix’d the fragments, some prepared the food:
- In friendly throngs they gather to embrace
- Their unknown guests, and at the banquet place.
- Pisistratus was first to grasp their hands,
- And spread soft hides upon the yellow sands;
- Along the shore th’ illustrious pair he led,
- Where Nestor sate with youthful Thrasymed.50
- To each a portion of the feast he bore,
- And held the golden goblet foaming o’er;
- Then first approaching to the elder guest,
- The latent Goddess in these words address’d:
- ‘Whoe’er thou art, whom Fortune brings to keep
- These rites of Neptune, Monarch of the Deep,
- Thee first it fits, O Stranger! to prepare
- The due libation and the solemn prayer:
- Then give thy friend to shed the sacred wine; }
- Tho’ much thy younger, and his years like mine,60 }
- He too, I deem, implores the Powers divine: }
- For all mankind alike require their grace,
- All born to want; a miserable race!’
- He spake, and to her hand preferr’d the bowl:
- A secret pleasure touch’d Athena’s soul,
- To see the pref’rence due to sacred age
- Regarded ever by the just and sage.
- Of Ocean’s King she then implores the grace:
- ‘O thou! whose arms this ample globe embrace,
- Fulfil our wish, and let thy glory shine70
- On Nestor first, and Nestor’s royal line;
- Next grant the Pylian states their just desires,
- Pleas’d with their hecatomb’s ascending fires;
- Last, deign Telemachus and me to bless,
- And crown our voyage with desired success.’
- Thus she: and, having paid the rite divine,
- Gave to Ulysses’ son the rosy wine.
- Suppliant he pray’d. And now, the victims dress’d,
- They draw, divide, and celebrate the feast.
- The banquet done, the narrative old man,80
- Thus mild, the pleasing conference began:
- ‘Now, gentle guests! the genial banquet o’er,
- It fits to ask ye, what your native shore,
- And whence your race? on what adventure, say,
- Thus far you wander thro’ the wat’ry way?
- Relate, if business, or the thirst of gain,
- Engage your journey o’er the pathless main:
- Where savage pirates seek thro’ seas unknown
- The lives of others, venturous of their own.’
- Urged by the precepts by the Goddess giv’n,90
- And fill’d with confidence infused from Heav’n,
- The youth, whom Pallas destin’d to be wise
- And famed among the sons of men, replies:
- ‘Inquirest thou, father! from what coast we came?
- (Oh grace and glory of the Grecian name!)
- From where high Ithaca o’erlooks the floods,
- Brown with o’er-arching shades and pendent woods,
- Us to these shores our filial duty draws,
- A private sorrow, not a public cause.99
- My sire I seek, where’er the voice of Fame
- Has told the glories of his noble name,
- The great Ulysses; famed from shore to shore
- For valour much, for hardy suff’ring more.
- Long time with thee before proud Ilion’s wall
- In arms he fought: with thee beheld her fall.
- Of all the Chiefs, this hero’s fate alone
- Has Jove reserv’d, unheard of, and unknown;
- Whether in fields by hostile fury slain,
- Or sunk by tempests in the gulfy main,
- Of this to learn, oppress’d with tender fears,110
- Lo, at thy knee his suppliant son appears.
- If or thy certain eye, or curious ear,
- Have learn’d his fate, the whole dark story clear:
- And, oh! whate’er Heav’n destin’d to betide,
- Let neither flatt’ry smooth, nor pity hide.
- Prepared I stand: he was but born to try
- The lot of man; to suffer, and to die.
- Oh then, if ever thro’ the ten years’ war
- The wise, the good Ulysses claim’d thy care;119
- If e’er he join’d thy council, or thy sword,
- True in his deed, and constant to his word;
- Far as thy mind thro’ backward time can see, }
- Search all thy stores of faithful memory: }
- ’T is sacred truth I ask, and ask of thee.’ }
- To him experienc’d Nestor thus rejoin’d:
- ‘O friend! what sorrows dost thou bring to mind!
- Shall I the long, laborious scene review,
- And open all the wounds of Greece anew?
- What toils by sea! where dark in quest of prey129
- Dauntless we roved; Achilles led the way:
- What toils by land! where, mix’d in fatal fight,
- Such numbers fell, such heroes sunk to night:
- There Ajax great, Achilles there the brave:
- There wise Patroclus, fill an early grave:
- There, too, my son—ah! once my best delight,
- Once swift of foot, and terrible in fight;
- In whom stern courage with soft virtue join’d,
- A faultless body and a blameless mind:
- Antilochus—what more can I relate?
- How trace the tedious series of our Fate?140
- Not added years on years my task could close,
- The long historian of my country’s woes:
- Back to thy native islands might’st thou sail,
- And leave half-heard the melancholy tale.
- Nine painful years on that detested shore,
- What stratagems we form’d, what toils we bore!
- Still lab’ring on, till scarce at last we found
- Great Jove propitious, and our conquest crown’d.
- Far o’er the rest thy mighty father shin’d,
- In wit, in prudence, and in force of mind.150
- Art thou the son of that illustrious sire?
- With joy I grasp thee, and with love admire.
- So like your voices, and your words so wise.
- Who finds thee younger must consult his eyes.
- Thy sire and I were one; nor varied aught
- In public sentence or in private thought;
- Alike to council or th’ assembly came,
- With equal souls, and sentiments the same.
- But when (by wisdom won) proud Ilion burn’d,
- And in their ships the conquering Greeks return’d,160
- ’T was God’s high will the victors to divide,
- And turn th’ event, confounding human pride:
- Some he destroy’d, some scatter’d as the dust
- (Not all were prudent, and not all were just).
- Then Discord, sent by Pallas from above,
- Stern daughter of the great avenger Jove,
- The Brother-Kings inspired with fell debate;
- Who call’d to council all th’ Achaian state,
- But call’d untimely (not the sacred rite169
- Observ’d, nor heedful of the setting light,
- Nor herald sworn the session to proclaim);
- Sour with debauch, a reeling tribe they came.
- To these the cause of meeting they explain,
- And Menelaüs moves to cross the main;
- Not so the King of Men: he will’d to stay,
- The sacred rites and hecatombs to pay,
- And calm Minerva’s wrath. Oh blind to Fate!
- The Gods not lightly change their love, or hate.
- With ireful taunts each other they oppose,
- Till in loud tumult all the Greeks arose.180
- Now diff’rent counsels ev’ry breast divide,
- Each burns with rancour to the adverse side:
- Th’ unquiet night strange projects entertain’d
- (So Jove, that urged us to our fate, ordain’d).
- We with the rising morn our ships unmoor’d,
- And brought our captives and our stores aboard;
- But half the people with respect obey’d
- The King of Men, and at his bidding stay’d.
- Now on the wings of winds our course we keep
- (For God had smooth’d the waters of the deep);190
- For Tenedos we spread our eager oars,
- There land, and pay due victims to the powers:
- To bless our safe return, we join in prayer;
- But angry Jove dispers’d our vows in air,
- And rais’d new discord. Then (so Heav’n decreed)
- Ulysses first and Nestor disagreed:
- Wise as he was, by various counsels sway’d,
- He there, tho’ late, to please the Monarch, stay’d.
- But I, determin’d, stem the foamy floods,
- Warn’d of the coming fury of the Gods.
- With us Tydides fear’d, and urged his haste:201
- And Menelaüs came, but came the last:
- He join’d our vessels in the Lesbian bay,
- While yet we doubted of our wat’ry way;
- If to the right to urge the pilot’s toil
- (The safer road) beside the Psyrian isle;
- Or the straight course to rocky Chios plough,
- And anchor under Mimas’ shaggy brow?
- We sought direction of the Power divine:
- The God propitious gave the guiding sign;210
- Thro’ the mid seas he bid our navy steer
- And in Eubœa shun the woes we fear.
- The whistling winds already waked the sky;
- Before the whistling winds the vessels fly;
- With rapid swiftness cut the liquid way,
- And reach Gerestus at the point of day.
- There hecatombs of bulls, to Neptune slain,
- High-flaming please the Monarch of the Main.
- The fourth day shone, when, all their labours o’er,
- Tydides’ vessels touch’d the wish’d-for shore.220
- But I to Pylos scud before the gales,
- The God still breathing on my swelling sails;
- Sep’rate from all I safely landed here;
- Their fates or fortunes never reach’d my ear.
- Yet what I learn’d, attend; as here I sate, }
- And ask’d each voyager each hero’s fate; }
- Curious to know, and willing to relate. }
- ‘Safe reach’d the Myrmidons their native land,
- Beneath Achilles’ warlike son’s command.
- Those, whom the heir of great Apollo’s art,230
- Brave Philoctetes, taught to wing the dart;
- And those whom Idomen from Ilion’s plain
- Had led, securely cross’d the dreadful main.
- How Agamemnon touch’d his Argive coast,
- And how his life by fraud and force he lost,
- And how the murd’rer paid his forfeit breath;
- What lands so distant from that scene of death
- But trembling heard the fame? and heard, admire
- How well the son appeas’d his slaughter’d sire!239
- Ev’n to th’ unhappy, that unjustly bleed,
- Heav’n gives posterity t’ avenge the deed.
- So fell Ægisthus: and mayst thou, my friend
- (On whom the virtues of thy sire descend),
- Make future times thy equal act adore,
- And be what brave Orestes was before!’
- The prudent youth replied: ‘O thou the grace
- And lasting glory of the Grecian race!
- Just was the vengeance, and to latest days
- Shall long posterity resound the praise.
- Some God this arm with equal prowess bless!250
- And the proud suitors shall its force confess;
- Injurious men! who, while my soul is sore
- Of fresh affronts, are meditating more.
- But Heav’n denies this honour to my hand,
- Nor shall my father repossess the land:
- The father’s fortune never to return,
- And the sad son’s to suffer and to mourn!’
- Thus he; and Nestor took the word: ‘My son,
- Is it then true, as distant rumours run,
- That crowds of rivals for thy mother’s charms260
- Thy palace fill with insults and alarms?
- Say, is the fault, thro’ tame submission, thine? }
- Or, leagued against thee, do thy people join, }
- Mov’d by some oracle, or voice divine? }
- And yet who knows but ripening lies in Fate
- An hour of vengeance for th’ afflicted state;
- When great Ulysses shall suppress these harms,
- Ulysses singly, or all Greece in arms.
- But if Athena, War’s triumphant Maid,
- The happy son will, as the father, aid270
- (Whose fame and safety was her constant care
- In ev’ry danger and in ev’ry war:
- Never on man did heav’nly favour shine
- With rays so strong, distinguish’d, and divine,
- As those with which Minerva mark’d thy sire;
- So might she love thee, so thy soul inspire!),
- Soon should their hopes in humble dust be laid,
- And long oblivion of the bridal bed.’
- ‘Ah! no such hope’ (the Prince with sighs replies)
- ‘Can touch my breast; that blessing Heav’n denies.280
- Ev’n by celestial favour were it giv’n,
- Fortune or Fate would cross the will of Heav’n.’
- ‘What words are these, and what imprudence thine?’
- (Thus interposed the Martial Maid divine)
- ‘Forgetful youth! but know, the Power above,
- With ease can save each object of his love;
- Wide as his will extends his boundless grace;
- Nor lost in time, nor circumscribed by place.
- Happier his lot, who, many sorrows pass’d,
- Long lab’ring gains his natal shore at last,290
- Than who, too speedy, hastes to end his life
- By some stern ruffian, or adult’rous wife.
- Death only is the lot which none can miss,
- And all is possible to Heav’n but this.
- The best, the dearest fav’rite of the sky
- Must taste that cup, for man is born to die.’
- Thus check’d, replied Ulysses’ prudent heir:
- ‘Mentor, no more—the mournful thought forbear;
- For he no more must draw his country’s breath,
- Already snatch’d by Fate, and the black doom of Death!300
- Pass we to other subjects; and engage
- On themes remote the venerable sage
- (Who thrice has seen the perishable kind }
- Of men decay, and thro’ three ages shin’d }
- Like Gods majestic, and like Gods in mind); }
- For much he knows, and just conclusions draws,
- From various precedents and various laws.
- O son of Neleus! awful Nestor, tell
- How he, the mighty Agamemnon, fell;
- By what strange fraud Ægisthus wrought, relate310
- (By force he could not), such a hero’s fate?
- Liv’d Menelaüs not in Greece? or where
- Was then the martial brother’s pious care?
- Condemn’d perhaps some foreign shore to tread;
- Or sure Ægisthus had not dared the deed.’
- To whom the full of days: ‘Illustrious youth,
- Attend (tho’ partly thou hast guess’d) the truth.
- For had the martial Menelaüs found
- The ruffian breathing yet on Argive ground,
- Nor earth had hid his carcass from the skies,320
- Nor Grecian virgin shriek’d his obsequies,
- But fowls obscene dismember’d his remains,
- And dogs had torn him on the naked plains.
- While us the works of bloody Mars employ’d,
- The wanton youth inglorious peace enjoy’d;
- He, stretch’d at ease in Argos’ calm recess
- (Whose stately steeds luxuriant pastures bless),
- With Flattery’s insinuating art
- Sooth’d the frail Queen, and poison’d all her heart.
- At first, with worthy shame and decent pride,330
- The royal dame his lawless suit denied.
- For virtue’s image yet possess’d her mind,
- Taught by a master of the tuneful kind:
- Atrides, parting for the Trojan war,
- Consign’d the youthful consort to his care.
- True to his charge, the bard preserv’d her long
- In honour’s limits; such the power of song.
- But when the Gods these objects of their hate
- Dragg’d to destruction by the links of Fate,
- The bard they banish’d from his native soil,340
- And left all helpless in a desert isle:
- There he, the sweetest of the sacred train,
- Sung dying to the rocks, but sung in vain.
- Then Virtue was no more; her guard away,
- She fell, to lust a voluntary prey.
- Ev’n to the temple stalk’d th’ adult’rous spouse,
- With impious thanks, and mockery of vows,
- With images, with garments, and with gold;
- And od’rous fumes from loaded altars roll’d.
- ‘Meantime from flaming Troy we cut the way,350
- With Menelaüs, thro’ the curling sea.
- But when to Sunium’s sacred point we came,
- Crown’d with the temple of th’ Athenian Dame;
- Atrides’ pilot, Phrontes, there expired
- (Phrontes, of all the sons of men admired,
- To steer the bounding bark with steady toil,
- When the storm thickens, and the billows boil);
- While yet he exercised the steersman’s art,
- Apollo touch’d him with his gentle dart;
- Ev’n with the rudder in his hand, he fell.360
- To pay whose honours to the shades of Hell,
- We check’d our haste, by pious office bound,
- And laid our old companion in the ground.
- And now, the rites discharged, our course we keep
- Far on the gloomy bosom of the deep:
- Soon as Malæa’s misty tops arise,
- Sudden the Thund’rer blackens all the skies,
- And the winds whistle, and the surges roll
- Mountains on mountains, and obscure the pole.369
- The tempest scatters, and divides our fleet;
- Part, the storm urges on the coast of Crete,
- Where, winding round the rich Cydonian plain,
- The streams of Jardan issue to the main.
- There stands a rock, high eminent and steep,
- Whose shaggy brow o’erhangs the shady deep,
- And views Gortyna on the western side;
- On this rough Auster drove th’ impetuous tide:
- With broken force the billows roll’d away,
- And heav’d the fleet into the neighb’ring bay.
- Thus saved from death, they gain’d the Phæstan shores,380
- With shatter’d vessels and disabled oars:
- But five tall barks the winds and waters toss’d,
- Far from their fellows, on th’ Ægyptian coast.
- There wander’d Menelaüs thro’ foreign shores,
- Amassing gold, and gath’ring naval stores;
- While curs’d Ægisthus the detested deed
- By fraud fulfill’d, and his great brother bled.
- Sev’n years, the traitor rich Mycenæ sway’d,
- And his stern rule the groaning land obey’d;
- The eighth, from Athens to his realm restor’d,390
- Orestes brandish’d the revenging sword,
- Slew the dire pair, and gave to funeral flame
- The vile assassin, and adult’rous dame.
- That day, ere yet the bloody triumphs cease,
- Return’d Atrides to the coast of Greece,
- And safe to Argos’ port his navy brought,
- With gifts of price and pond’rous treasure fraught.
- Hence warn’d, my son, beware! nor idly stand
- Too long a stranger to thy native land;
- Lest heedless absence wear thy wealth away,400
- While lawless feasters in thy palace sway;
- Perhaps may seize thy realm, and share the spoil; }
- And thou return, with disappointed toil, }
- From thy vain journey, to a rifled isle. }
- Howe’er, my friend, indulge one labour more,
- And seek Atrides on the Spartan shore.
- He, wand’ring long, a wider circle made,
- And many-languaged nations has survey’d;
- And measured tracks unknown to other ships409
- Amid the monstrous wonders of the deeps
- (A length of ocean and unbounded sky,
- Which scarce the sea-fowl in a year o’erfly):
- Go then; to Sparta take the wat’ry way,
- Thy ship and sailors but for orders stay;
- Or if by land thou choose thy course to bend,
- My steeds, my chariots, and my sons attend:
- Thee to Atrides they shall safe convey,
- Guides of thy road, companions of thy way.
- Urge him with truth to frame his free replies,419
- And sure he will: for Menelaüs is wise.’
- Thus while he speaks, the ruddy sun descends,
- And twilight gray her ev’ning shade extends.
- Then thus the Blue-eyed Maid: ‘O Full of Days!
- Wise are thy words, and just are all thy ways.
- Now immolate the tongues, and mix the wine,
- Sacred to Neptune and the Powers divine.
- The lamp of day is quench’d beneath the deep,
- And soft approach the balmy hours of sleep:
- Nor fits it to prolong the heav’nly feast,
- Timeless, indecent, but retire to rest.’430
- So spake Jove’s daughter, the celestial Maid.
- The sober train attended and obey’d.
- The sacred heralds on their hands around
- Pour’d the full urns; the youths the goblets crown’d:
- From bowl to bowl the holy bev’rage flows;
- While to the final sacrifice they rose.
- The tongues they cast upon the fragrant flame,
- And pour, above, the consecrated stream.
- And now, their thirst by copious draughts allay’d,439
- The youthful hero and th’ Athenian maid
- Propose departure from the finish’d rite,
- And in their hollow bark to pass the night.
- But this the hospitable sage denied:
- ‘Forbid it, Jove! and all the Gods!’ he cried,
- ‘Thus from my walls the much-lov’d son to send
- Of such a Hero, and of such a Friend!
- Me, as some needy peasant, would ye leave,
- Whom Heav’n denies the blessing to relieve?
- Me would ye leave, who boast imperial sway,
- When beds of royal state invite your stay?450
- No—long as life this mortal shall inspire,
- Or as my children imitate their sire,
- Here shall the wand’ring stranger find his home,
- And hospitable rites adorn the dome.’
- ‘Well hast thou spoke’ (the Blue-eyed Maid replies),
- ‘Belov’d old man! benevolent as wise.
- Be the kind dictates of thy heart obey’d,
- And let thy words Telemachus persuade:
- He to thy palace shall thy steps pursue; }
- I to the ship, to give the orders due,460 }
- Prescribe directions, and confirm the crew. }
- For I alone sustain their naval cares,
- Who boast experience from these silver hairs;
- All youths the rest, whom to this journey move
- Like years, like tempers, and their Prince’s love.
- There in the vessel shall I pass the night;
- And soon as morning paints the fields of light,
- I go to challenge from the Caucons bold
- A debt, contracted in the days of old.
- But this thy guest, receiv’d with friendly care,470
- Let thy strong coursers swift to Sparta bear;
- Prepare thy chariot at the dawn of day,
- And be thy son companion of his way.’
- Then, turning with the word, Minerva flies,
- And soars an eagle thro’ the liquid skies.
- Vision divine! the throng’d spectators gaze
- In holy wonder fix’d, and still amaze.
- But chief the rev’rend sage admired; he took
- The hand of young Telemachus, and spoke:
- ‘Oh, happy Youth! and favour’d of the skies,480
- Distinguish’d care of guardian Deities!
- Whose early years for future worth engage,
- No vulgar manhood, no ignoble age.
- For lo! none other of the court above
- Than she, the daughter of Almighty Jove,
- Pallas herself, the war-triumphant Maid,
- Confess’d is thine, as once thy father’s aid.
- So guide me, Goddess! so propitious shine
- On me, my consort, and my royal line!489
- A yearling bullock to thy name shall smoke,
- Untamed, unconscious of the galling yoke,
- With ample forehead, and yet tender horns,
- Whose budding honours ductile gold adorns.’
- Submissive thus the hoary sire preferr’d
- His holy vow: the fav’ring Goddess heard.
- Then, slowly rising, o’er the sandy space
- Precedes the father, follow’d by his race
- (A long procession), timely marching home
- In comely order to the regal dome.
- There when arrived, on thrones around him placed,500
- His sons and grandsons the wide circle graced.
- To these the hospitable sage, in sign
- Of social welcome, mix’d the racy wine
- (Late from the mell’wing cask restor’d to light,
- By ten long years refin’d, and rosy bright).
- To Pallas high the foaming bowl he crown’d,
- And sprinkled large libations on the ground.
- Each drinks a full oblivion of his cares,
- And to the gifts of balmy sleep repairs.
- Deep in a rich alcove the Prince was laid,510
- And slept beneath the pompous colonnade:
- Fast by his side Pisistratus lay spread
- (In age his equal), on a splendid bed:
- But in an inner court, securely closed,
- The rev’rend Nestor and his Queen reposed.
- When now Aurora, Daughter of the Dawn,
- With rosy lustre purpled o’er the lawn;
- The old man early rose, walk’d forth, and sate
- On polish’d stone before his palace-gate:
- With unguents smooth the lucid marble shone,520
- Where ancient Neleus sate, a rustic throne;
- But he descending to th’ infernal shade,
- Sage Nestor fill’d it, and the sceptre sway’d.
- His sons around him mild obeisance pay,
- And duteous take the orders of the day.
- First Echephron and Stratius quit their bed;
- Then Perseus, Aretus, and Thrasymed;
- The last Pisistratus arose from rest:
- They came, and near him place the stranger-guest.
- To these the senior thus declared his will:530
- ‘My sons! the dictates of your sire fulfil.
- To Pallas, first of Gods, prepare the feast,
- Who graced our rites, a more than mortal guest.
- Let one, despatchful, bid some swain to lead
- A well-fed bullock from the grassy mead;
- One seek the harbour where the vessels moor,
- And bring thy friends, Telemachus! ashore
- (Leave only two the galley to attend);
- Another to Learceus must we send,
- Artist divine, whose skilful hands infold540
- The victim’s horn with circumfusile gold.
- The rest may here the pious duty share,
- And bid the handmaids for the feast prepare,
- The seats to range, the fragrant wood to bring,
- And limpid waters from the living spring.’
- He said, and busy each his care bestow’d;
- Already at the gates the bullock low’d,
- Already came the Ithacensian crew,
- The dext’rous smith the tools already drew:
- His pond’rous hammer, and his anvil sound,550
- And the strong tongs to turn the metal round.
- Nor was Minerva absent from the rite;
- She view’d her honours, and enjoy’d the sight.
- With rev’rent hand the King presents the gold, }
- Which round th’ intorted horns the gilder roll’d, }
- So wrought, as Pallas might with pride behold. }
- Young Aretus from forth his bridal bower }
- Brought the full laver, o’er their hands to pour, }
- And canisters of consecrated flour. }
- Stratius and Echephron the victim led;560
- The axe was held by warlike Thrasymed,
- In act to strike: before him Perseus stood,
- The vase extending to receive the blood,
- The King himself initiates to the Power;
- Scatters with quiv’ring hand the sacred flour,
- And the stream sprinkles: from the curling brows
- The hair collected in the fire he throws.
- Soon as due vows on every part were paid,
- And sacred wheat upon the victim laid,
- Strong Thrasymed discharged the speeding blow570
- Full on his neck, and cut the nerves in two.
- Down sunk the heavy beast: the females round,
- Maids, wives, and matrons, mix a shrilling sound,
- Nor scorn’d the Queen the holy choir to join.
- (The first-born she, of old Clymenus’ line;
- In youth by Nestor lov’d, of spotless fame,
- And lov’d in age, Eurydice her name.)
- From earth they rear him, struggling now with death;
- And Nestor’s youngest stops the vents of breath.
- The soul for ever flies: on all sides round580
- Streams the black blood, and smokes upon the ground.
- The beast they then divide, and disunite
- The ribs and limbs, observant of the rite:
- On these, in double cauls involv’d with art,
- The choicest morsels lay from ev’ry part.
- The sacred sage before his altar stands,
- Turns the burnt-off’ring with his holy hands,
- And pours the wine, and bids the flames aspire:
- The youth with instruments surround the fire.
- The thighs now sacrificed, and entrails dress’d,590
- Th’ assistants part, transfix, and broil the rest.
- While these officious tend the rites divine,
- The last fair branch of the Nestorean line,
- Sweet Polycaste, took the pleasing toil
- To bathe the Prince, and pour the fragrant oil.
- O’er his fair limbs a flowery vest he threw,
- And issued, like a God, to mortal view.
- His former seat beside the King he found
- (His people’s father with his peers around);
- All placed at ease the holy banquet join,600
- And in the dazzling goblet laughs the wine.
- The rage of thirst and hunger now suppress’d,
- The Monarch turns him to his royal guest;
- And for the promis’d journey bids prepare
- The smooth-hair’d horses, and the rapid car.
- Observant of his word, the word scarce spoke,
- The sons obey, and join them to the yoke.
- Then bread and wine a ready handmaid brings,
- And presents, such as suit the state of kings;
- The glitt’ring seat Telemachus ascends;610
- His faithful guide Pisistratus attends;
- With hasty hand the ruling reins he drew:
- He lash’d the coursers, and the coursers flew.
- Beneath the bounding yoke alike they held
- Their equal pace, and smoked along the field.
- The towers of Pylos sink, its views decay, }
- Fields after fields fly back, till close of day: }
- Then sunk the sun, and darken’d all the way. }
- To Pheræ now, Diocleus’ stately seat
- (Of Alpheus’ race), the weary youths retreat.620
- His house affords the hospitable rite,
- And pleas’d they sleep, the blessing of the night.
- But when Aurora, Daughter of the Dawn,
- With rosy lustre purpled o’er the lawn,
- Again they mount, their journey to renew,
- And from the sounding portico they flew.
- Along the waving fields their way they hold,
- The fields receding as their chariot roll’d:
- Then slowly sunk the ruddy globe of light,
- And o’er the shaded landscape rush’d the night.630

BOOK V

THE DEPARTURE OF ULYSSES FROM CALYPSO

THE ARGUMENT

Pallas in a council of the Gods complains of the detention of Ulysses in the island of Calypso; whereupon Mercury is sent to command his removal. The seat of Calypso described. She consents with much difficulty; and Ulysses builds a vessel with his own hands, on which he embarks. Neptune overtakes him with a terrible tempest, in which he is shipwrecked, and in the last danger of death; till Leucothea, a sea-goddess, assists him, and, after innumerable perils, he gets ashore on Phæacia.

- The saffron Morn, with early blushes spread,
- Now rose refulgent from Tithonus’ bed;
- With new-born Day to gladden mortal sight,
- And gild the courts of Heav’n with sacred light.
- Then met th’ eternal Synod of the Sky, }
- Before the God, who thunders from on high, }
- Supreme in might, sublime in majesty. }
- Pallas, to these, deplores th’ unequal Fates
- Of wise Ulysses, and his toils relates:
- Her hero’s danger touch’d the pitying Power,10
- The nymph’s seducements, and the magic bower.
- Thus she began her plaint. ‘Immortal Jove!
- And you who fill the blissful seats above!
- Let Kings no more with gentle mercy sway,
- Or bless a people willing to obey,
- But crush the nations with an iron rod,
- And ev’ry Monarch be the scourge of God;
- If from your thoughts Ulysses you remove,
- Who ruled his subjects with a father’s love.
- Sole in an isle, encircled by the main,20
- Abandon’d, banish’d from his native reign,
- Unbless’d he sighs, detain’d by lawless charms,
- And press’d unwilling in Calypso’s arms.
- Nor friends are there, nor vessels to convey,
- Nor oars to cut th’ immeasurable way.
- And now fierce traitors, studious to destroy
- His only son, their ambush’d fraud employ;
- Who, pious, foll’wing his great father’s fame,
- To sacred Pylos and to Sparta came.’
- ‘What words are these?’ (replied the Power who forms30
- The clouds of night, and darkens Heav’n with storms);
- ‘Is not already in thy soul decreed,
- The Chief’s return shall make the guilty bleed?
- What cannot Wisdom do? Thou may’st restore
- The son in safety to his native shore;
- While the fell foes, who late in ambush lay,
- With fraud defeated measure back their way.’
- Then thus to Hermes the command was giv’n.
- ‘Hermes, thou chosen messenger of Heav’n!
- Go, to the Nymph be these our orders borne:40
- ’T is Jove’s decree, Ulysses shall return:
- The patient man shall view his old abodes,
- Nor help’d by mortal hand, nor guiding Gods:
- In twice ten days shall fertile Scheria find,
- Alone, and floating to the wave and wind.
- The bold Phæacians there, whose haughty line
- Is mix’d with Gods, half human, half divine,
- The Chief shall honour as some heav’nly guest,
- And swift transport him to his place of rest.49
- His vessels loaded with a plenteous store
- Of brass, of vestures, and resplendent ore
- (A richer prize than if his joyful isle
- Receiv’d him charged with Ilion’s noble spoil),
- His friends, his country, he shall see, tho’ late;
- Such is our sov’reign will, and such is Fate.’
- He spoke. The God who mounts the winged winds
- Fast to his feet the golden pinions binds,
- That high thro’ fields of air his flight sustain
- O’er the wide earth, and o’er the boundless main.
- He grasps the wand that causes sleep to fly,60
- Or in soft slumber seals the wakeful eye:
- Then shoots from Heav’n to high Pieria’s steep,
- And stoops incumbent on the rolling deep.
- So wat’ry fowl, that seek their fishy food,
- With wings expanded o’er the foaming flood,
- Now sailing smooth the level surface sweep,
- Now dip their pinious in the briny deep.
- Thus o’er the world of waters Hermes flew,
- Till now the distant island rose in view:
- Then, swift ascending from the azure wave,70
- He took the path that winded to the cave.
- Large was the grot, in which the Nymph he found
- (The fair-hair’d Nymph with ev’ry beauty crown’d);
- She sate and sung; the rocks resound her lays;
- The cave was brighten’d with a rising blaze;
- Cedar and frankincense, an od’rous pile,
- Flamed on the hearth and wide perfumed the isle;
- While she with work and song the time divides,
- And thro’ the loom the golden shuttle guides.
- Without the grot a various sylvan scene80
- Appear’d around, and groves of living green;
- Poplars and alders ever quiv’ring play’d,
- And nodding cypress form’d a fragrant shade;
- On whose high branches, waving with the storm,
- The birds of broadest wing their mansions form,
- The chough, the sea-mew, the loquacious crow,
- And scream aloft, and skim the deeps below.
- Depending vines the shelving cavern screen,
- With purple clusters blushing thro’ the green.
- Four limpid fountains from the clefts distil;90 }
- And ev’ry fountain pours a sev’ral rill, }
- In mazy windings wand’ring down the hill; }
- Where bloomy meads with vivid greens were crown’d,
- And glowing violets threw odours round.
- A scene, where if a God should cast his sight,
- A God might gaze, and wander with delight!
- Joy touch’d the Messenger of Heav’n: he stay’d
- Entranc’d, and all the blissful haunts survey’d.
- Him, ent’ring in the cave, Calypso knew;
- For Powers celestial to each other’s view100
- Stand still confess’d, tho’ distant far they lie
- To habitants of earth, or sea, or sky.
- But sad Ulysses, by himself apart,
- Pour’d the big sorrows of his swelling heart;
- All on the lonely shore he sate to weep,
- And roll’d his eyes around the restless deep;
- Toward his lov’d coast he roll’d his eyes in vain,
- Till, dimm’d with rising grief, they stream’d again.
- Now graceful seated on her shining throne,
- To Hermes thus the Nymph divine begun:110
- ‘God of the Golden Wand! on what behest
- Arrivest thou here, an unexpected guest?
- Lov’d as thou art, thy free injunctions lay:
- ’T is mine with joy and duty to obey.
- Till now a stranger, in a happy hour
- Approach, and taste the dainties of my bower.’
- Thus having spoke, the Nymph the table spread
- (Ambrosial cates, with nectar rosy-red);
- Hermes the hospitable rite partook,119
- Divine refection! then, recruited, spoke:
- ‘What mov’d this journey from my native sky,
- A Goddess asks, nor can a God deny:
- Hear then the truth. By mighty Jove’s command
- Unwilling have I trod this pleasing land;
- For who, self-mov’d, with weary wing would sweep
- Such length of ocean and unmeasured deep:
- A world of waters! far from all the ways
- Where men frequent, or sacred altars blaze?
- But to Jove’s will submission we must pay;129
- What Power so great to dare to disobey?
- A man, he says, a man resides with thee,
- Of all his kind most worn with misery;
- The Greeks (whose arms for nine long years employ’d
- Their force on Ilion, in the tenth destroy’d),
- At length embarking in a luckless hour,
- With conquest proud, incens’d Minerva’s power:
- Hence on the guilty race her vengeance hurl’d
- With storms pursued them thro’ the liquid world.
- There all his vessels sunk beneath the wave!
- There all his dear companions found their grave!140
- Saved from the jaws of death by Heav’n’s decree,
- The tempest drove him to these shores and thee.
- Him, Jove now orders to his native lands
- Straight to dismiss: so destiny commands:
- Impatient Fate his near return attends,
- And calls him to his country, and his friends.’
- Ev’n to her inmost soul the Goddess shook;
- Then thus her anguish and her passion broke:
- ‘Ungracious Gods! with spite and envy curs’d!149
- Still to your own ethereal race the worst!
- Ye envy mortal and immortal joy,
- And love, the only sweet of life, destroy.
- Did ever Goddess by her charms engage
- A favour’d mortal, and not feel your rage?
- So when Aurora sought Orion’s love,
- Her joys disturb’d your blissful hours above,
- Till, in Ortygia, Dian’s winged dart
- Had pierc’d the hapless hunter to the heart.
- So when the covert of the thrice-ear’d field
- Saw stately Ceres to her passion yield,160
- Scarce could Iasion taste her heav’nly charms,
- But Jove’s swift lightning scorch’d him in her arms.
- ‘And is it now my turn, ye mighty Powers!
- Am I the envy of your blissful bowers?
- A man, an outcast to the storm and wave,
- It was my crime to pity and to save;
- When he who thunders rent his bark in twain,
- And sunk his brave companions in the main.
- Alone, abandon’d, in mid-ocean toss’d,
- The sport of winds, and driv’n from ev’ry coast,170
- Hither this man of miseries I led,
- Receiv’d the friendless, and the hungry fed;
- Nay, promis’d (vainly promis’d!) to bestow
- Immortal life, exempt from age and woe.
- ’T is past—and Jove decrees he shall remove:
- Gods as we are, we are but slaves to Jove.
- Go then he may (he must, if he ordain,
- Try all those dangers, all those deeps, again);
- But never, never shall Calypso send
- To toils like these her husband and her friend.180
- What ships have I, what sailors to convey,
- What oars to cut the long laborious way?
- Yet I ’ll direct the safest means to go;
- That last advice is all I can bestow.’
- To her the Power who bears the Charming Rod:
- ‘Dismiss the man, nor irritate the God;
- Prevent the rage of him who reigns above,
- For what so dreadful as the wrath of Jove?’
- Thus having said, he cut the cleaving sky,
- And in a moment vanish’d from her eye.190
- The Nymph, obedient to divine command,
- To seek Ulysses paced along the sand,
- Him pensive on the lonely beach she found,
- With streaming eyes in briny torrents drown’d,
- And inly pining for his native shore;
- For now the soft enchantress pleas’d no more:
- For now, reluctant, and constrain’d by charms,
- Absent he lay in her desiring arms:
- In slumber wore the heavy night away,
- On rocks and shores consumed the tedious day;200
- There sate all desolate, and sigh’d alone,
- With echoing sorrows made the mountains groan,
- And roll’d his eyes o’er all the restless main,
- Till, dimm’d with rising grief, they stream’d again.
- Here, on his musing mood the Goddess press’d
- Approaching soft; and thus the Chief address’d:
- ‘Unhappy man! to wasting woes a prey,
- No more in sorrows languish life away:
- Free as the winds I give thee now to rove—
- Go, fell the timber of yon lofty grove,210
- And form a raft, and build the rising ship,
- Sublime to bear thee o’er the gloomy deep.
- To store the vessel let the care be mine,
- With water from the rock, and rosy wine,
- And life-sustaining bread, and fair array,
- And prosp’rous gales to waft thee on the way.
- These, if the Gods with my desire comply
- (The Gods, alas, more mighty far than I,
- And better skill’d in dark events to come),
- In peace shall land thee at thy native home.’220
- With sighs Ulysses heard the words she spoke,
- Then thus his melancholy silence broke:
- ‘Some other motive, Goddess! sways thy mind
- (Some close design, or turn of womankind),
- Nor my return the end, nor this the way,
- On a slight raft to pass the swelling sea,
- Huge, horrid, vast! where scarce in safety sails
- The best-built ship, tho’ Jove inspire the gales.
- The bold proposal how shall I fulfil,
- Dark as I am, unconscious of thy will?230
- Swear, then, thou mean’st not what my soul forebodes;
- Swear by the solemn oath that binds the Gods.’
- Him, while he spoke, with smiles Calypso eyed,
- And gently grasp’d his hand, and thus replied:
- ‘This shows thee, friend, by old experience taught,
- And learn’d in all the wiles of human thought,
- How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise!
- But hear, O earth, and hear, ye sacred skies!
- And thou, O Styx! whose formidable floods
- Glide thro’ the shades, and bind th’ attesting Gods!240
- No form’d design, no meditated end,
- Lurks in the council of thy faithful friend;
- Kind the persuasion, and sincere my aim;
- The same my practice, were my fate the same.
- Heav’n has not curs’d me with a heart of steel,
- But given the sense to pity and to feel.’
- Thus having said, the Goddess march’d before:
- He trod her footsteps in the sandy shore.
- At the cool cave arrived, they took their state;
- He fill’d the throne where Mercury had sate.250
- For him the Nymph a rich repast ordains,
- Such as the mortal life of man sustains;
- Before herself were placed the cates divine,
- Ambrosial banquet, and celestial wine.
- Their hunger satiate, and their thirst repress’d,
- Thus spoke Calypso to her godlike guest:
- ‘Ulysses!’ (with a sigh she thus began)
- ‘O sprung from Gods! in wisdom more than man!
- Is then thy home the passion of thy heart?
- Thus wilt thou leave me, are we thus to part?260
- Farewell! and ever joyful may’st thou be,
- Nor break the transport with one thought of me.
- But, ah, Ulysses! wert thou giv’n to know
- What Fate yet dooms thee, yet, to undergo;
- Thy heart might settle in this scene of ease,
- And ev’n these slighted charms might learn to please.
- A willing Goddess, and immortal life,
- Might banish from thy mind an absent wife.
- Am I inferior to a mortal dame?
- Less soft my feature, lest august my frame?270
- Or shall the daughters of mankind compare
- Their earth-born beauties with the heav’nly fair?’
- ‘Alas! for this’ (the prudent man replies)
- ‘Against Ulysses shall thy anger rise?
- Lov’d and ador’d, O Goddess, as thou art,
- Forgive the weakness of a human heart.
- Tho’ well I see thy graces far above
- The dear, tho’ mortal, object of my love,
- Of youth eternal well the diff’rence know,
- And the short date of fading charms below;280
- Yet ev’ry day, while absent thus I roam,
- I languish to return and die at home.
- Whate’er the Gods shall destine me to bear
- In the black ocean, or the wat’ry war,
- ’T is mine to master with a constant mind;
- Inured to perils, to the worst resign’d.
- By seas, by wars, so many dangers run;
- Still I can suffer: their high will be done!’
- Thus while he spoke, the beamy sun descends,
- And rising night her friendly shade extends.290
- To the close grot the lonely pair remove,
- And slept delighted with the gifts of love.
- When rosy morning call’d them from their rest,
- Ulysses robed him in the cloak and vest.
- The Nymph’s fair head a veil transparent graced,
- Her swelling loins a radiant zone embraced
- With flowers of gold: an under robe, unbound,
- In snowy waves flow’d glitt’ring on the ground.
- Forth issuing thus, she gave him first to wield
- A weighty axe, with truest temper steel’d,
- And double-edg’d; the handle smooth and plain,301
- Wrought of the clouded olive’s easy grain;
- And next, a wedge to drive with sweepy sway:
- Then to the neighb’ring forest led the way.
- On the lone island’s utmost verge there stood
- Of poplars, pines, and firs, a lofty wood,
- Whose leafless summits to the skies aspire,
- Scorch’d by the sun, or sear’d by heav’nly fire
- (Already dried). These pointing out to view,
- The Nymph just show’d him, and with tears withdrew.310
- Now toils the hero: trees on trees o’erthrown
- Fall crackling round him, and the forests groan:
- Sudden, full twenty on the plain are strow’d,
- And lopp’d and lighten’d of their branchy load.
- At equal angles these disposed to join,
- He smoothed and squared them by the rule and line
- (The wimbles for the work Calypso found).
- With those he pierc’d them, and with clinchers bound.
- Long and capacious as a shipwright forms
- Some bark’s broad bottom to out-ride the storms,320
- So large he built the raft; then ribb’d it strong
- From space to space, and nail’d the planks along;
- These form’d the sides: the deck he fashion’d last;
- Then o’er the vessel rais’d the taper mast,
- With crossing sail-yards dancing in the wind;
- And to the helm the guiding rudder join’d
- (With yielding osiers fenc’d, to break the force
- Of surging waves, and steer the steady course).
- Thy loom, Calypso! for the future sails329
- Supplied the cloth, capacious of the gales.
- With stays and cordage last he rigg’d the ship,
- And, roll’d on levers, launch’d her in the deep.
- Four days were past, and now, the work complete,
- Shone the fifth morn, when from her sacred seat
- The Nymph dismiss’d him (od’rous garments giv’n,
- And bathed in fragrant oils that breathed of Heav’n):
- Then fill’d two goat-skins with her hands divine,
- With water one, and one with sable wine:
- Of ev’ry kind provisions heav’d aboard;
- And the full decks with copious viands stor’d.340
- The Goddess, last, a gentle breeze supplies,
- To curl old Ocean, and to warm the skies.
- And now, rejoicing in the prosp’rous gales,
- With beating heart Ulysses spreads his sails:
- Placed at the helm he sate, and mark’d the skies,
- Nor closed in sleep his ever-watchful eyes.
- There view’d the Pleiads, and the Northern Team,
- And great Orion’s more refulgent beam,
- To which, around the axle of the sky,349
- The Bear, revolving, points his golden eye:
- Who shines exalted on th’ ethereal plain,
- Nor bathes his blazing forehead in the main.
- Far on the left those radiant fires to keep
- The Nymph directed, as he sail’d the deep.
- Full sev’nteen nights he cut the foamy way;
- The distant land appear’d the foll’wing day:
- Then swell’d to sight Phæacia’s dusky coast,
- And woody mountains, half in vapours lost;
- That lay before him indistinct and vast,359
- Like a broad shield amid the wat’ry waste.
- But him, thus voyaging the deeps below,
- From far, on Solyme’s aërial brow,
- The King of Ocean saw, and seeing burn’d
- (From Æthiopia’s happy climes return’d);
- The raging Monarch shook his azure head,
- And thus in secret to his soul he said:
- ‘Heav’ns! how uncertain are the Powers on high!
- Is then revers’d the sentence of the sky,
- In one man’s favour: while a distant guest
- I shared secure the Æthiopian feast?370
- Behold how near Phæacia’s land he draws!
- The land affix’d by Fate’s eternal laws
- To end his toils. Is then our anger vain?
- No; if this sceptre yet commands the main.’
- He spoke, and high the forky trident hurl’d,
- Rolls clouds on clouds, and stirs the wat’ry world,
- At once the face of earth and sea deforms,
- Swells all the winds, and rouses all the storms.
- Down rush’d the night: east, west, together roar;
- And south and north roll mountains to the shore:380
- Then shook the hero, to despair resign’d,
- And question’d thus his yet unconquer’d mind:
- ‘Wretch that I am! what farther Fates attend
- This life of toils, and what my destin’d end?
- Too well, alas! the island Goddess knew
- On the black sea what perils should ensue.
- New horrors now this destin’d head enclose;
- Unfill’d as yet the measure of my woes:
- With what a cloud the brows of Heav’n are crown’d!
- What raging winds! what roaring waters round!390
- ’T is Jove himself the swelling tempest rears;
- Death, present death, on ev’ry side appears.
- Happy! thrice happy! who, in battle slain,
- Press’d, in Atrides’ cause, the Trojan plain!
- Oh! had I died before that well-fought wall;
- Had some distinguish’d day renown’d my fall
- (Such as was that when showers of jav’lins fled
- From conquering Troy around Achilles dead);
- All Greece had paid me solemn funerals then,399
- And spread my glory with the sons of men.
- A shameful fate now hides my hapless head,
- Unwept, unnoted, and for ever dead!’
- A mighty wave rush’d o’er him as he spoke,
- The raft it cover’d, and the mast it broke:
- Swept from the deck, and from the rudder torn,
- Far on the swelling surge the Chief was borne;
- While by the howling tempest rent in twain
- Flew sail and sail-yards rattling o’er the main.
- Long-press’d, he heav’d beneath the weighty wave,
- Clogg’d by the cumb’rous vest Calypso gave:410
- At length emerging, from his nostrils wide
- And gushing mouth effused the briny tide;
- Ev’n then, not mindless of his last retreat,
- He seiz’d the raft, and leap’d into his seat,
- Strong with the fear of death. The rolling flood
- Now here, now there, impell’d the floating wood.
- As when a heap of gather’d thorns is cast
- Now to, now fro, before th’ autumnal blast;
- Together clung, it rolls around the field;
- So roll’d the float, and so its texture held:
- And now the south, and now the north, bear sway,421 }
- And now the east the foamy floods obey, }
- And now the west wind whirls it o’er the sea. }
- The wand’ring Chief, with toils on toils oppress’d,
- Leucothea saw, and pity touch’d her breast
- (Herself a mortal once, of Cadmus’ strain,
- But now an azure sister of the main).
- Swift as a sea-mew springing from the flood,
- All radiant on the raft the Goddess stood:
- Then thus address’d him: ‘Thou whom Heav’n decrees430
- To Neptune’s wrath, stern Tyrant of the Seas
- (Unequal contest)! not his rage and power,
- Great as he is, such virtue shall devour.
- What I suggest, thy wisdom will perform:
- Forsake thy float, and leave it to the storm:
- Strip off thy garments; Neptune’s fury brave
- With naked strength, and plunge into the wave.
- To reach Phæacia all thy nerves extend,
- There Fate decrees thy miseries shall end.
- This heav’nly scarf beneath thy bosom bind,440
- And live; give all thy terrors to the wind.
- Soon as thy arms the happy shore shall gain,
- Return the gift, and cast it in the main;
- Observe my orders, and with heed obey,
- Cast it far off, and turn thy eyes away.’
- With that, her hand the sacred veil bestows,
- Then down the deeps she dived from whence she rose;
- A moment snatch’d the shining form away,
- And all was cover’d with the curling sea.
- Struck with amaze, yet still to doubt ininclin’d,450
- He stands suspended, and explores his mind.
- ‘What shall I do? unhappy me! who knows
- But other Gods intend me other woes?
- Whoe’er thou art, I shall not blindly join
- Thy pleaded reason, but consult with mine:
- For scarce in ken appears that distant isle
- Thy voice foretells me shall conclude my toil.
- Thus then I judge: while yet the planks sustain
- The wild waves’ fury, here I fix’d remain:
- But when their texture to the tempest yields,460
- I launch adventurous on the liquid fields,
- Join to the help of Gods the strength of man,
- And take this method, since the best I can.’
- While thus his thoughts an anxious council hold,
- The raging God a wat’ry mountain roll’d;
- Like a black sheet the whelming billows spread,
- Burst o’er the float, and thunder’d on his head.
- Planks, beams, disparted fly; the scatter’d wood
- Rolls diverse, and in fragments strews the flood.
- So the rude Boreas, o’er the field newshorn,470
- Tosses and drives the scatter’d heaps of corn.
- And now a single beam the chief bestrides:
- There, pois’d awhile above the bounding tides,
- His limbs discumbers of the clinging vest,
- And binds the sacred cincture round his breast;
- Then, prone on ocean in a moment flung,
- Stretch’d wide his eager arms, and shot the seas along.
- All naked now, on heaving billows laid,
- Stern Neptune eyed him, and contemptuous said:
- ‘Go, learn’d in woes, and other foes essay!480
- Go, wander helpless on the wat’ry way:
- Thus, thus find out the destin’d shore, and then
- (If Jove ordains it) mix with happier men:
- Whate’er thy fate, the ills our wrath could raise
- Shall last remember’d in thy best of days.’
- This said, his sea-green steeds divide the foam,
- And reach high Ægæ and the tow’ry dome.
- Now, scarce withdrawn the fierce earthshaking Power,
- Jove’s daughter Pallas watch’d the fav’ring hour;
- Back to their caves she bade the winds to fly,490
- And hush’d the blust’ring Brethren of the Sky.
- The drier blasts alone of Boreas sway,
- And bear him soft on broken waves away;
- With gentle force impelling to that shore,
- Where Fate has destin’d he shall toil no more.
- And now two nights and now two days were past,
- Since wide he wander’d on the wat’ry waste;
- Heav’d on the surge with intermitting breath,
- And hourly painting in the arms of Death.
- The third fair morn now blazed upon the main;500
- Then glassy smooth lay all the liquid plain;
- The winds were hush’d, the billows scarcely curl’d,
- And a dead silence still’d the wat’ry world,
- When, lifted on a ridgy wave, he spies
- The land at distance, and with sharpen’d eyes.
- As pious children joy with vast delight
- When a lov’d sire revives before their sight
- (Who, ling’ring long, has call’d on death in vain,508
- Fix’d by some demon to his bed of pain,
- Till Heav’n by miracle his life restore);
- So joys Ulysses at th’ appearing shore;
- And sees (and labours onward as he sees)
- The rising forests, and the tufted trees.
- And now, as near approaching as the sound
- Of human voice the list’ning ear may wound,
- Amidst the rocks he hears a hollow roar
- Of murm’ring surges breaking on the shore:
- Nor peaceful port was there, nor winding bay,
- To shield the vessel from the rolling sea,
- But cliffs, and shaggy shores, a dreadful sight!520
- All rough with rocks, with foamy billows white.
- Fear seiz’d his slacken’d limbs and beating heart,
- And thus he communed with his soul apart:
- ‘Ah me! when o’er a length of waters toss’d,
- These eyes at last behold th’ unhoped-for coast,
- No port receives me from the angry main,
- But the loud deeps demand me back again.
- Above sharp rocks forbid access; around
- Roar the wild waves; beneath is sea profound!529
- No footing sure affords the faithless sand,
- To stem too rapid, and too deep to stand.
- If here I enter, my efforts are vain,
- Dash’d on the cliffs or heav’d into the main:
- Or round the island if my course I bend,
- Where the ports open, or the shores descend,
- Back to the seas the rolling surge may sweep,
- And bury all my hopes beneath the deep.
- Or some enormous whale the God may send
- (For many such on Amphitrite attend);
- Too well the turns of mortal chance I know,540
- And hate relentless of my heav’nly foe.’
- While thus he thought, a monstrous wave upbore
- The Chief, and dash’d him on the craggy shore;
- Torn was his skin, nor had the ribs been whole,
- But instant Pallas enter’d in his soul.
- Close to the cliff with both his hands he clung,
- And stuck adherent, and suspended hung;
- Till the huge surge roll’d off: then, backward sweep
- The refluent tides, and plunge him in the deep.549
- As when the polypus, from forth his cave
- Torn with full force, reluctant beats the wave;
- His ragged claws are stuck with stones and sands;
- So the rough rock had shagg’d Ulysses’ hands.
- And now had perish’d, whelm’d beneath the main,
- Th’ unhappy man; ev’n Fate had been in vain;
- But all-subduing Pallas lent her power,
- And prudence saved him in the needful hour.
- Beyond the beating surge his course he bore
- (A wider circle, but in sight of shore),
- With longing eyes, observing, to survey560
- Some smooth ascent, or safe sequester’d bay.
- Between the parting rocks at length he spied
- A falling stream with gentler waters glide;
- Where to the seas the shelving shore declin’d,
- And form’d a bay impervious to the wind.
- To this calm port the glad Ulysses press’d,
- And hail’d the river, and its God address’d:
- ‘Whoe’er thou art, before whose stream unknown
- I bend, a suppliant at thy wat’ry throne,
- Hear, azure King! nor let me fly in vain570
- To thee from Neptune and the raging main.
- Heav’n hears and pities hapless men like me,
- For sacred ev’n to Gods is misery:
- Let then thy waters give the weary rest,
- And save a suppliant, and a man distress’d.’
- He pray’d, and straight the gentle stream subsides,
- Detains the rushing current of his tides,
- Before the wand’rer smooths the wat’ry way,
- And soft receives him from the rolling sea.
- That moment, fainting as he touch’d the shore,580
- He dropp’d his sinewy arms; his knees no more
- Perform’d their office, or his weight upheld;
- His swoln heart heav’d; his bloated body swell’d;
- From mouth and nose the briny torrent ran;
- And lost in lassitude lay all the man,
- Deprived of voice, of motion, and of breath;
- The soul scarce waking in the arms of death.
- Soon as warm life its wonted office found,
- The mindful chief Leucothea’s scarf unbound;
- Observant of her word, he turn’d aside590
- His head, and cast it on the rolling tide.
- Behind him far, upon the purple waves
- The waters waft it, and the nymph receives.
- Now parting from the stream, Ulysses found }
- A mossy bank with pliant rushes crown’d; }
- The bank he press’d, and gently kiss’d the ground; }
- Where on the flow’ry herb as soft he lay,
- Thus to his soul the sage began to say:
- ‘What will ye next ordain, ye Powers on high!
- And yet, ah yet, what fates are we to try?600
- Here by the stream, if I the night outwear, }
- Thus spent already, how shall nature bear }
- The dews descending, and nocturnal air? }
- Or chilly vapours breathing from the flood
- When morning rises?—If I take the wood,
- And in thick shelter of innumerous boughs
- Enjoy the comfort gentle sleep allows;
- Tho’ fenc’d from cold, and tho’ my toil be past,
- What savage beasts may wander in the waste!
- Perhaps I yet may fall a bloody prey610
- To prowling bears, or lions in the way.’
- Thus long debating in himself he stood:
- At length he took the passage to the wood,
- Whose shady horrors on a rising brow
- Waved high, and frown’d upon the stream below.
- There grew two olives, closest of the grove,
- With roots entwin’d, and branches interwove;
- Alike their leaves, but not alike they smil’d
- With sister-fruits; one fertile, one was wild.
- Nor here the sun’s meridian rays had power,620
- Nor wind sharp-piercing, nor the rushing shower;
- The verdant arch so close its texture kept:
- Beneath this covert great Ulysses crept.
- Of gather’d leaves an ample bed he made
- (Thick strewn by tempest thro’ the bow’ry shade);
- Where three at least might winter’s cold defy,
- Tho’ Boreas raged along th’ inclement sky.
- This store with joy the patient hero found,
- And, sunk amidst them, heap’d the leaves around.
- As some poor peasant, fated to reside630
- Remote from neighbours in a forest wide,
- Studious to save what human wants require,
- In embers heap’d, preserves the seeds of fire:
- Hid in dry foliage thus Ulysses lies,
- Till Pallas pour’d soft slumbers on his eyes:
- And golden dreams (the gift of sweet repose)
- Lull’d all his cares, and banish’d all his woes.

BOOK VII

THE COURT OF ALCINOÜS

ARGUMENT

The princess Nausicaa returns to the city, and Ulysses soon after follows thither. He is met by Pallas in the form of a young virgin, who guides him to the palace, and directs him in what manner to address the queen Areté. She then involves him in a mist, which causes him to pass invisible. The palace and gardens of Alcinoüs described. Ulysses falling at the feet of the Queen, the mist disperses, the Phæacians admire, and receive him with respect. The Queen inquiring by what means he had the garments he then wore, he relates to her and Alcinoüs his departure from Calypso, and his arrival on their dominions.

The same day continues, and the book ends with the night.

- The patient heav’nly man thus suppliant pray’d;
- While the slow mules draw on th’ imperial maid:
- Thro’ the proud street she moves, the public gaze;
- The turning wheel before the palace stays.
- With ready love her brothers gath’ring round,
- Receiv’d the vestures, and the mules unbound.
- She seeks the bridal bower: a matron there
- The rising fire supplies with busy care,
- Whose charms in youth her father’s heart inflamed,
- Now worn with age, Eurymedusa named:10
- The captive dame Phæacian rovers bore,
- Snatch’d from Epirus, her sweet native shore
- (A grateful prize), and in her bloom bestow’d
- On good Alcinoüs, honour’d as a God;
- Nurse of Nausicaa from her infant years,
- And tender second to a mother’s cares.
- Now from the sacred thicket, where he lay,
- To town Ulysses took the winding way.
- Propitious Pallas, to secure her care,19
- Around him spread a veil of thicken’d air;
- To shun th’ encounter of the vulgar crowd,
- Insulting still, inquisitive and loud.
- When near the famed Phæacian walls he drew,
- The beauteous city opening to his view,
- His step a virgin met, and stood before:
- A polish’d urn the seeming virgin bore,
- And youthful smil’d; but in the low disguise
- Lay hid the Goddess with the Azure Eyes.
- ‘Show me, fair daughter’ (thus the Chief demands),
- ‘The house of him who rules these happy lands;30
- Thro’ many woes and wand’rings, lo! I come
- To good Alcinoüs’ hospitable dome.
- Far from my native coast, I rove alone,
- A wretched stranger, and of all unknown!’
- The Goddess answer’d: ‘Father, I obey,
- And point the wand’ring traveller his way:
- Well known to me the palace you inquire,
- For fast beside it dwells my honour’d sire:
- But silent march, nor greet the common train
- With question needless, or inquiry vain:40
- A race of rugged mariners are these:
- Unpolish’d men, and boist’rous as their seas:
- The native islanders alone their care,
- And hateful he who breathes a foreign air.
- These did the ruler of the deep ordain
- To build proud navies, and command the main;
- On canvas wings to cut the wat’ry way;
- No bird so light, no thought so swift as they.’
- Thus having spoke, th’ unknown Celestial leads:
- The footsteps of the deity he treads,50
- And secret moves along the crowded space,
- Unseen of all the rude Phæacian race
- (So Pallas order’d. Pallas to their eyes
- The mist objected, and condens’d the skies).
- The Chief with wonder sees th’ extended streets,
- The spreading harbours, and the riding fleets;
- He next their Princes’ lofty domes admires,
- In sep’rate islands, crown’d with rising spires;
- And deep intrenchments, and high walls of stone,
- That gird the city like a marble zone.60
- At length the kingly palace gates he view’d;
- There stopp’d the Goddess, and her speech renew’d.
- ‘My task is done; the mansion you inquire
- Appears before you: enter, and admire.
- High-throned, and feasting, there thou shalt behold
- The sceptred rulers. Fear not, but be bold:
- A decent boldness ever meets with friends,
- Succeeds, and ev’n a stranger recommends.
- First to the Queen prefer a suppliant’s claim, }
- Alcinoüs’ Queen, Aretè is her name,70 }
- The same her parents, and her power the same. }
- For know, from Ocean’s God Nausithoüs sprung,
- And Peribœa, beautiful and young;
- (Eurymedon’s last hope, who ruled of old
- The race of giants, impious, proud, and bold;
- Perish’d the nation in unrighteous war,
- Perish’d the Prince, and left this only heir);
- Who now, by Neptune’s am’rous power compress’d,
- Produced a Monarch that his people bless’d,
- Father and Prince of the Phæacian name;80
- From him Rhexenor and Alcinoüs came.
- The first by Phœbus’ burning arrows fired,
- New from his nuptials, hapless youth! expired.
- No son survived: Aretè heir’d his state,
- And her Alcinoüs chose his royal mate.
- With honours yet to womankind unknown
- This Queen he graces, and divides the throne;
- In equal tenderness her sons conspire,
- And all the children emulate their sire.
- When thro’ the street she gracious deigns to move90
- (The public wonder and the public love),
- The tongues of all with transport sound her praise,
- The eyes of all, as on a Goddess, gaze.
- She feels the triumph of a gen’rous breast; }
- To heal divisions, to relieve th’ oppress’d; }
- In virtue rich; in blessing others, bless’d. }
- Go then secure, thy humble suit prefer,
- And owe thy country and thy friends to her.’
- With that the Goddess deign’d no longer stay,
- But o’er the world of waters wing’d her way:100
- Forsaking Scheria’s ever-pleasing shore,
- The winds to Marathon the virgin bore:
- Thence, where proud Athens rears her tow’ry head,
- With opening streets and shining structures spread,
- She pass’d, delighted with the well-known seats;
- And to Erectheus’ sacred dome retreats.
- Meanwhile Ulysses at the palace waits, }
- There stops, and anxious with his soul debates, }
- Fix’d in amaze before the royal gates. }
- The front appear’d with radiant splendours gay,110
- Bright as the lamp of night, or orb of day.
- The walls were massy brass: the cornice high
- Blue metals crown’d in colours of the sky;
- Rich plates of gold the folding doors incase;
- The pillars silver, on a brazen base;
- Silver the lintels deep-projecting o’er,
- And gold the ringlets that command the door.
- Two rows of stately dogs on either hand,
- In sculptured gold and labour’d silver stand.
- These Vulcan form’d with art divine, to wait120
- Immortal guardians at Alcinoüs’ gate;
- Alive each animated frame appears,
- And still to live beyond the power of years.
- Fair thrones within from space to space were rais’d,
- Where various carpets with embroid’ry blazed,
- The work of matrons: these the Princes press’d,
- Day foll’wing day, a long continued feast.
- Refulgent pedestals the walls surround,
- Which boys of gold with flaming torches crown’d;
- The polish’d ore, reflecting every ray,130
- Blazed on the banquets with a double day.
- Full fifty handmaids form’d the household train;
- Some turn the mill, or sift the golden grain;
- Some ply the loom; their busy fingers move
- Like poplar-leaves when Zephyr fans the grove.
- Not more renown’d the men of Scheria’s isle,
- For sailing arts and all the naval toil,
- Than works of female skill their women’s pride,
- The flying shuttle thro’ the threads to guide:
- Pallas to these her double gifts imparts,140
- Inventive genius, and industrious arts.
- Close to the gates a spacious garden lies,
- From storms defended and inclement skies.
- Four acres was th’ allotted space of ground,
- Fenc’d with a green enclosure all around.
- Tall thriving trees confess’d the fruitful mould;
- The redd’ning apple ripens here to gold.
- Here the blue fig with luscious juice o’erflows,
- With deeper red the full pomegranate glows;
- The branch here bends beneath the weighty pear,150
- And verdant olives flourish round the year.
- The balmy spirit of the western gale
- Eternal breathes on fruits, untaught to fail;
- Each dropping pear a foll’wing pear supplies,
- On apples apples, figs on figs arise:
- The same mild season gives the blooms to blow,
- The buds to harden, and the fruits to grow.
- Here order’d vines in equal ranks appear,
- With all th’ united labours of the year;
- Some to unload the fertile branches run,160
- Some dry the black’ning clusters in the sun;
- Others to tread the liquid harvest join,
- The groaning presses foam with floods of wine,
- Here are the vines in early flower descried, }
- Here grapes discolour’d on the sunny side, }
- And there in Autumn’s richest purple dyed. }
- Beds of all various herbs, for ever green,
- In beauteous order terminate the scene.
- Two plenteous fountains the whole prospect crown’d: }
- This thro’ the gardens leads its streams around,170 }
- Visits each plant, and waters all the ground; }
- While that in pipes beneath the palace flows,
- And thence its current on the town bestows:
- To various use their various streams they bring,
- The people one, and one supplies the King.
- Such were the glories which the Gods ordain’d,
- To grace Alcinoüs, and his happy land.
- Ev’n from the Chief whom men and nations knew,
- Th’ unwonted scene surprise and rapture drew;
- In pleasing thought he ran the prospect o’er,180
- Then hasty enter’d at the lofty door.
- Night now approaching, in the palace stand,
- With goblets crown’d, the rulers of the land;
- Prepared for rest, and off’ring to the God
- Who bears the virtue of the sleepy rod.
- Unseen he glided thro’ the joyous crowd,
- With darkness circled, and an ambient cloud,
- Direct to great Alcinoüs’ throne he came,
- And prostrate fell before th’ imperial dame.
- Then from around him dropp’d the veil of night;190
- Sudden he shines, and manifest to sight.
- The nobles gaze, with awful fear oppress’d;
- Silent they gaze, and eye the godlike guest.
- ‘Daughter of great Rhexenor!’ (thus began,
- Low at her knees, the much-enduring man),
- ‘To thee, thy consort, and this royal train,
- To all that share the blessings of your reign,
- A suppliant bends: oh pity human woe!
- ’T is what the happy to th’ unhappy owe.
- A wretched exile to his country send,200
- Long worn with griefs, and long without a friend.
- So may the Gods your better days increase,
- And all your joys descend on all your race:
- So reign for ever on your country’s breast,
- Your people blessing, by your people bless’d!’
- Then to the genial hearth he bow’d his face,
- And humbled in the ashes took his place.
- Silence ensued. The eldest first began,
- Echeneus sage, a venerable man!
- Whose well-taught mind the present age surpass’d,210
- And join’d to that th’ experience of the last.
- Fit words attended on his weighty sense,
- And mild persuasion flow’d in eloquence.
- ‘Oh sight’ (he cried) ‘dishonest and unjust!
- A guest, a stranger, seated in the dust!
- To raise the lowly suppliant from the ground
- Befits a Monarch. Lo! the peers around
- But wait thy word, the gentle guest to grace,
- And seat him fair in some distinguish’d place.
- Let first the herald due libation pay220
- To Jove, who guides the wand’rer on his way;
- Then set the genial banquet in his view,
- And give the stranger-guest a stranger’s due.’
- His sage advice the list’ning King obeys;
- He stretch’d his hand the prudent Chief to raise,
- And from his seat Laodamas remov’d
- (The Monarch’s offspring, and his best-belov’d);
- There next his side the godlike Hero sate;
- With stars of silver shone the bed of state.
- The golden ewer a beauteous handmaid brings,230
- Replenish’d from the cool translucent springs,
- Whose polish’d vase with copious streams supplies
- A silver laver of capacious size.
- The table next in regal order spread,
- The glitt’ring canisters are heap’d with bread:
- Viands of various kinds invite the taste,
- Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!
- Thus feasting high, Alcinoüs gave the sign,
- And bade the Herald pour the rosy wine.
- ‘Let all around the due libation pay240
- To Jove, who guides the wand’rer on his way.’
- He said. Pontonoüs heard the King’s command;
- The circling goblet moves from hand to hand;
- Each drinks the juice that glads the heart of man.
- Alcinoüs then, with aspect mild, began:
- ‘Princes and Peers, attend; while we impart
- To you the thoughts of no inhuman heart.
- Now pleas’d and satiate from the social rite
- Repair we to the blessings of the night;
- But with the rising day, assembled here,250
- Let all the elders of the land appear,
- Pious observe our hospitable laws,
- And Heav’n propitiate in the stranger’s cause;
- Then join’d in council, proper means explore
- Safe to transport him to the wished-for shore
- (How distant that, imports not us to know,
- Nor weigh the labour, but relieve the woe).
- Meantime, nor harm nor anguish let him bear:
- This interval, Heav’n trusts him to our care;259
- But to his native land our charge resign’d,
- Heav’n’s is his life to come, and all the woes behind.
- Then must he suffer what the Fates ordain; }
- For Fate has wove the thread of life with pain! }
- And twins ev’n from the birth are Misery and Man! }
- But if, descended from th’ Olympian bower,
- Gracious approach us some immortal Power;
- If in that form thou com’st a guest divine;
- Some high event the conscious Gods design.
- As yet, unbid they never graced our feast,
- The solemn sacrifice call’d down the guest;
- Then manifest of Heav’n the vision stood,271
- And to our eyes familiar was the God.
- Oft with some favour’d traveller they stray,
- And shine before him all the desert way;
- With social intercourse, and face to face,
- The friends and guardians of our pious race.
- So near approach we their celestial kind,
- By justice, truth, and probity of mind;
- As our dire neighbours of Cyclopean birth
- Match in fierce wrong the giant-sons of earth.’280
- ‘Let no such thought’ (with modest grace rejoin’d
- The prudent Greek) ‘possess the royal mind.
- Alas! a mortal, like thyself, am I;
- No glorious native of yon azure sky:
- In form, ah how unlike their heav’nly kind!
- How more inferior in the gifts of mind!
- Alas, a mortal! most oppress’d of those
- Whom Fate has loaded with a weight of woes;
- By a sad train of miseries alone289
- Distinguish’d long, and second now to none!
- By Heav’n’s high will compell’d from shore to shore,
- With Heav’n’s high will prepared to suffer more.
- What histories of toil could I declare!
- But still long-wearied nature wants repair;
- Spent with fatigue, and shrunk with pining fast,
- My craving bowels still require repast.
- Howe’er the noble, suff’ring mind may grieve
- Its load of anguish, and disdain to live,
- Necessity demands our daily bread;
- Hunger is insolent, and will be fed.300
- But finish, O ye Peers! what you propose,
- And let the morrow’s dawn conclude my woes.
- Pleas’d will I suffer all the Gods ordain,
- To see my soil, my son, my friends again.
- That view vouchsafed, let instant death surprise
- With ever-during shade these happy eyes!’
- Th’ assembled Peers with gen’ral praise approv’d
- His pleaded reason, and the suit he mov’d.
- Each drinks a full oblivion of his cares,
- And to the gifts of balmy sleep repairs.310
- Ulysses in the regal walls alone }
- Remain’d: beside him, on a splendid throne }
- Divine Aretè and Alcinoüs shone. }
- The Queen, on nearer view, the guest survey’d,
- Robed in the garments her own hands had made,
- Not without wonder seen. Then thus began,
- Her words addressing to the godlike man:
- ‘Camest thou not hither, wondrous stranger! say,
- From lands remote, and o’er a length of sea?
- Tell then whence art thou? whence that princely air?320
- And robes like these, so recent and so fair?’
- ‘Hard is the task, O Princess! you impose’
- (Thus sighing spoke the man of many woes),
- ‘The long, the mournful series to relate
- Of all my sorrows sent by Heav’n and Fate!
- Yet what you ask, attend. An island lies
- Beyond these tracts, and under other skies,
- Ogygia named, in Ocean’s wat’ry arms;
- Where dwells Calypso, dreadful in her charms!
- Remote from Gods or men she holds her reign,330
- Amid the terrors of the rolling main.
- Me, only me, the hand of Fortune bore,
- Unblest! to tread that interdicted shore:
- When Jove tremendous in the sable deeps
- Launch’d his red lightning at our scatter’d ships,
- Then, all my fleet, and all my foll’wers lost,
- Sole on a plank, on boiling surges toss’d,
- Heav’n drove my wreck th’ Ogygian isle to find,
- Full nine days floating to the wave and wind.339
- Met by the Goddess there with open arms,
- She bribed my stay with more than human charms;
- Nay, promis’d, vainly promis’d, to bestow
- Immortal life, exempt from age and woe;
- But all her blandishments successless prove,
- To banish from my breast my country’s love.
- I stay reluctant sev’n continued years,
- And water her ambrosial couch with tears;
- The eighth she voluntary moves to part,
- Or urged by Jove, or her own changeful heart.
- A raft was form’d to cross the surging sea;350 }
- Herself supplied the stores and rich array, }
- And gave the gales to waft me on the way. }
- In sev’nteen days appear’d your pleasing coast,
- And woody mountains half in vapours lost.
- Joy touch’d my soul: my soul was joy’d in vain,
- For angry Neptune rous’d the raging main;
- The wild winds whistle, and the billows roar; }
- The splitting raft the furious tempest tore; }
- And storms vindictive intercept the shore. }
- Soon as their rage subsides, the seas I brave360
- With naked force, and shoot along the wave,
- To reach this isle; but there my hopes were lost;
- The surge impell’d me on a craggy coast.
- I chose the safer sea, and chanced to find
- A river’s mouth impervious to the wind,
- And clear of rocks. I fainted by the flood;
- Then took the shelter of the neighb’ring wood.
- ’T was night, and cover’d in the foliage deep,
- Jove plunged my senses in the death of sleep.
- All night I slept, oblivious of my pain:370
- Aurora dawn’d, and Phœbus shined in vain,
- Nor, till oblique he sloped his ev’ning ray,
- Had Somnus dried the balmy dews away.
- Then female voices from the shore I heard:
- A maid amidst them, goddess-like, appear’d;
- To her I sued, she pitied my distress;
- Like thee in beauty, nor in virtue less.
- Who from such youth could hope consid’rate care?
- In youth and beauty wisdom is but rare!
- She gave me life, reliev’d with just supplies380
- My wants, and lent these robes that strike your eyes.
- This is the truth: and oh, ye Powers on high!
- Forbid that want should sink me to a lie.’
- To this the King: ‘Our daughter but express’d
- Her cares imperfect to her godlike guest.
- Suppliant to her since first he chose to pray, }
- Why not herself did she conduct the way, }
- And with her handmaids to our court convey?’ }
- ‘Hero and King’ (Ulysses thus replied),
- ‘Nor blame her faultless, nor suspect of pride:390
- She bade me follow in th’ attendant train;
- But fear and rev’rence did my steps detain,
- Lest rash suspicion might alarm thy mind:
- Man ’s of a jealous and mistaking kind.’
- ‘Far from my soul’ (he cried) ‘the Gods efface
- All wrath ill-grounded, and suspicion base!
- Whate’er is honest, stranger, I approve,
- And would to Phœbus, Pallas, and to Jove,
- Such as thou art, thy thought and mine were one,
- Nor thou unwilling to be call’d my son.400
- In such alliance could’st thou wish to join,
- A palace stor’d with treasures should be thine.
- But if reluctant, who shall force thy stay? }
- Jove bids to set the stranger on his way, }
- And ships shall wait thee with the morning ray. }
- Till then, let slumber cross thy careful eyes; }
- The wakeful mariners shall watch the skies, }
- And seize the moment when the breezes rise, }
- Then gently waft thee to the pleasing shore,
- Where thy soul rests, and labour is no more.410
- Far as Eubœa tho’ thy country lay,
- Our ships with ease transport thee in a day.
- Thither of old, earth’s giant son to view,
- On wings of winds with Rhadamanth they flew;
- This land, from whence their morning course begun,
- Saw them returning with the setting sun.
- Your eyes shall witness and confirm my tale,
- Our youth how dext’rous and how fleet our sail,
- When justly timed with equal sweep they row,419
- And ocean whitens in long tracks below.’
- Thus he. No word the experienc’d man replies,
- But thus to Heav’n (and Heav’nward lifts his eyes):
- ‘O Jove! O Father! what the King accords
- Do thou make perfect! sacred be his words!
- Wide o’er the world Alcinoüs’ glory shine!
- Let fame be his, and ah! my country mine!’
- Meantime Aretè, for the hour of rest,
- Ordains the fleecy couch, and cov’ring vest;
- Bids her fair train the purple quilts prepare,
- And the thick carpets spread with busy care.430
- With torches blazing in their hands they pass’d,
- And finish’d all their Queen’s command with haste:
- Then gave the signal to the willing guest:
- He rose with pleasure, and retired to rest.
- There soft-extended, to the murm’ring sound
- Of the high porch, Ulysses sleeps profound!
- Within, releas’d from cares Alcinoüs lies;
- And fast beside were closed Aretè’s eyes.

BOOK IX

THE ADVENTURES OF THE CICONS, LOTOPHAGI, AND CYCLOPS

ARGUMENT

Ulysses begins the relation of his adventures; how, after the destruction of Troy, he with his companions made an incursion on the Cicons, by whom they were repulsed; and meeting with a storm, were driven to the coast of the Lotophagi. From thence they sailed to the land of the Cyclops, whose manners and situation are particularly characterized. The giant Polyphemus and his cave described; the usage Ulysses and his companious met with there; and lastly, the method and artifice by which he escaped.

- Then thus Ulysses: ‘Thou whom first in sway,
- As first in virtue, these thy realms obey;
- How sweet the products of a peaceful reign!
- The Heav’n-taught poet, and enchanting strain,
- The well-fill’d palace, the perpetual feast,
- A land rejoicing, and a people bless’d:
- How goodly seems it ever to employ
- Man’s social days in union and in joy;
- The plenteous board high-heap’d with cates divine,
- And o’er the foaming bowl the laughing wine!10
- ‘Amid these joys, why seeks thy mind to know
- Th’ unhappy series of a wand’rer’s woe?
- Remembrance sad, whose image to review,
- Alas! must open all my wounds anew!
- And oh, what first, what last shall I relate,
- Of woes unnumber’d sent by Heav’n and Fate?
- ‘Know first the man (tho’ now a wretch distress’d)
- Who hopes thee, Monarch, for his future guest:
- Behold Ulysses! no ignoble name,
- Earth sounds my wisdom, and high Heav’n my fame.20
- ‘My native soil is Ithaca the fair,
- Where high Neritus waves his woods in air;
- Dulichium, Samè, and Zacynthus crown’d
- With shady mountains, spread their isles around
- (These to the north and night’s dark regions run,
- Those to Aurora and the rising sun);
- Low lies our isle, yet bless’d in fruitful stores;
- Strong are her sons, tho’ rocky are her shores;
- And none, ah none, so lovely to my sight,
- Of all the lands that Heav’n o’erspreads with light!30
- In vain Calypso long constrain’d my stay,
- With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay;
- With all her charms as vainly Circe strove,
- And added magic to secure my love.
- In pomps or joys, the palace or the grot,
- My country’s image never was forgot,
- My absent parents rose before my sight,
- And distant lay contentment and delight.
- ‘Hear, then, the woes which mighty Jove ordain’d39
- To wait my passage from the Trojan land.
- The winds from Ilion to the Cicons’ shore,
- Beneath cold Ismarus, our vessels bore.
- We boldly landed on the hostile place,
- And sack’d the city, and destroy’d the race,
- Their wives made captive, their possessions shared,
- And ev’ry soldier found a like reward.
- I then advised to fly; not so the rest,
- Who stay’d to revel, and prolong the feast:
- The fatted sheep and sable bulls they slay,
- And bowls flow round, and riot wastes the day.50
- Meantime the Cicons, to their holds retired,
- Call on the Cicons, with new fury fired;
- With early morn the gather’d country swarms
- And all the continent is bright with arms;
- Thick as the budding leaves or rising flowers
- O’erspread the land, when spring descends in showers:
- All expert soldiers, skill’d on foot to dare,
- Or from the bounding courser urge the war.
- Now fortune changes (so the Fates ordain);
- Our hour was come to taste our share of pain.60
- Close at the ships the bloody fight began,
- Wounded they wound, and man expires on man.
- Long as the morning sun increasing bright
- O’er Heav’n’s pure azure spread the growing light,
- Promiscuous death the form of war confounds,
- Each adverse battle gor’d with equal wounds;
- But when his ev’ning wheels o’erhung the main,
- Then conquest crown’d the fierce Ciconian train.
- Six brave companions from each ship we lost,
- The rest escape in haste, and quit the coast.70
- With sails outspread we fly th’ unequal strife,
- Sad for their loss, but joyful of our life.
- Yet as we fled, our fellows’ rites we paid,
- And thrice we call’d on each unhappy shade.
- ‘Meanwhile the God, whose hand the thunder forms,
- Drives clouds on clouds, and blackens Heav’n with storms,
- Wide o’er the waste the rage of Boreas sweeps,
- And night rush’d headlong on the shaded deeps.
- Now here, now there, the giddy ships are borne,
- And all the rattling shrouds in fragments torn.80
- We furl’d the sail, we plied the lab’ring oar,
- Took down our masts, and row’d our ships to shore.
- Two tedious days, and two long nights we lay,
- O’erwatch’d and batter’d in the naked bay.
- But the third morning when Aurora brings,
- We rear the masts, we spread the canvas wings;
- Refresh’d and careless on the deck reclin’d,
- We sit, and trust the pilot and the wind.
- Then to my native country had I sail’d:
- But, the cape doubled, adverse winds prevail’d.90
- Strong was the tide, which, by the northern blast
- Impell’d, our vessels on Cythera cast.
- Nine days our fleet th’ uncertain tempest bore
- Far in wide ocean, and from sight of shore:
- The tenth we touch’d, by various errors toss’d,
- The land of Lotus, and the flow’ry coast.
- We climb’d the beach, and springs of water found,
- Then spread our hasty banquet on the ground.
- Three men were sent, deputed from the crew99
- (A herald one) the dubious coast to view,
- And learn what habitants possess’d the place.
- They went, and found a hospitable race:
- Not prone to ill, nor strange to foreign guest,
- They eat, they drink, and Nature gives the feast:
- The trees around them all their food produce;
- Lotus the name: divine, nectareous juice
- (Thence called Lotophagi); which whoso tastes,
- Insatiate riots in the sweet repasts,
- Nor other home nor other care intends,
- But quits his house, his country, and his friends.110
- The three we sent, from off th’ enchanting ground
- We dragged reluctant, and by force we bound:
- The rest in haste forsook the pleasing shore,
- Or, the charm tasted, had return’d no more.
- Now placed in order on their banks, they sweep
- The sea’s smooth face, and cleave the hoary deep;
- With heavy hearts we labour thro’ the tide,
- To coasts unknown, and oceans yet untried.
- ‘The land of Cyclops first, a savage kind,
- Nor tamed by manners, nor by laws confin’d:120
- Untaught to plant, to turn the glebe and sow,
- They all their products to free Nature owe.
- The soil untill’d a ready harvest yields,
- With wheat and barley wave the golden fields;
- Spontaneous wines from weighty clusters pour,
- And Jove descends in each prolific shower.
- By these no statutes and no rights are known,
- No Council held, no Monarch fills the throne,
- But high on hills, or airy cliffs, they dwell,
- Or deep in caves whose entrance leads to Hell.130
- Each rules his race, his neighbour not his care,
- Heedless of others, to his own severe.
- ‘Opposed to the Cyclopean coasts, there lay
- An isle, whose hills their subject fields survey;
- Its name Lachæa, crown’d with many a grove,
- Where savage goats thro’ pathless thickets rove:
- No needy mortals here, with hunger bold,
- Or wretched hunters thro’ the wintry cold
- Pursue their flight; but leave them safe to bound
- From hill to hill, o’er all the desert ground.140
- Nor knows the soil to feed the fleecy care,
- Or feels the labours of the crooked share;
- But uninhabited, untill’d, unsown
- It lies, and breeds the bleating goat alone.
- For there no vessel with vermilion prore,
- Or bark of traffic, glides from shore to shore;
- The rugged race of savages, unskill’d
- The seas to traverse, or the ships to build,
- Gaze on the coast, nor cultivate the soil,
- Unlearn’d in all th’ industrious arts of toil.150
- Yet here all products and all plants abound,
- Sprung from the fruitful genius of the ground;
- Fields waving high with heavy crops are seen,
- And vines that flourish in eternal green,
- Refreshing meads along the murm’ring main,
- And fountains streaming down the fruitful plain.
- ‘A port there is, inclosed on either side,
- Where ships may rest, unanchor’d and untied;
- Till the glad mariners incline to sail,159
- And the sea whitens with the rising gale.
- High at the head from out the cavern’d rock,
- In living rills a gushing fountain broke:
- Around it, and above, for ever green,
- The bushy alders form’d a shady scene.
- Hither some fav’ring God, beyond our thought,
- THro’ all-surrounding shade our navy brought;
- For gloomy night descended on the main,
- Nor glimmer’d Phœbe in th’ ethereal plain:
- But all unseen the clouded island lay, }
- And all unseen the surge and rolling sea,170 }
- Till safe we anchor’d in the shelter’d bay: }
- Our sails we gather’d, cast our cables o’er,
- And slept secure along the sandy shore.
- Soon as again the rosy morning shone,
- Reveal’d the landscape and the scene unknown,
- With wonder seiz’d, we view the pleasing ground,
- And walk delighted, and expatiate round.
- Rous’d by the woodland nymphs at early dawn,
- The mountain goats came bounding o’er the lawn:
- In haste our fellows to the ships repair,180
- For arms and weapons of the sylvan war;
- Straight in three squadrons all our crew we part,
- And bend the bow, or wing the missile dart;
- The bounteous Gods afford a copious prey,
- And nine fat goats each vessel bears away:
- The royal bark had ten. Our ships complete
- We thus supplied (for twelve were all the fleet).
- ‘Here, till the setting sun roll’d down the light,
- We sat indulging in the genial rite:
- Nor wines were wanting; those from ample jars190
- We drain’d, the prize of our Ciconian wars.
- The land of Cyclops lay in prospect near; }
- The voice of goats and bleating flocks we hear, }
- And from their mountains rising smokes appear. }
- Now sunk the sun, and darkness cover’d o’er
- The face of things: along the sea-beat shore
- Satiate we slept; but when the sacred dawn
- Arising glitter’d o’er the dewy lawn,
- I call’d my fellows, and these words address’d:
- “My dear associates, here indulge your rest:200
- While, with my single ship, adventurous I
- Go forth, the manners of yon men to try;
- Whether a race unjust, of barb’rous might,
- Rude, and unconscious of a stranger’s right,
- Or such who harbour pity in their breast,
- Revere the Gods, and succour the distress’d.”
- ‘This said, I climb’d my vessel’s lofty side;
- My train obey’d me, and the ship untied.
- In order seated on their banks, they sweep
- Neptune’s smooth face, and cleave the yielding deep.210
- When to the nearest verge of land we drew,
- Fast by the sea a lonely cave we view,
- High, and with dark’ning laurels cover’d o’er;
- Where sheep and goats lay slumb’ring round the shore.
- Near this, a fence of marble from the rock,
- Brown with o’erarching pine and spreading oak:
- A giant shepherd here his flock maintains
- Far from the rest, and solitary reigns,
- In shelter thick of horrid shade reclin’d;
- And gloomy mischiefs labour in his mind.220
- A form enormous! far unlike the race
- Of human birth, in stature, or in face;
- As some lone mountain’s monstrous growth he stood,
- Crown’d with rough thickets, and a nodding wood.
- I left my vessel at the point of land,
- And close to guard it gave our crew command:
- With only twelve, the boldest and the best,
- I seek th’ adventure, and forsake the rest.
- Then took a goatskin, fill’d with precious wine, }
- The gift of Marou of Evantheus’ line230 }
- (The priest of Phœbus at th’ Ismarian shrine). }
- In sacred shade his honour’d mansion stood
- Amidst Apollo’s consecrated wood;
- Him, and his house, Heav’n mov’d my mind to save,
- And costly presents in return he gave;
- Sev’n golden talents to perfection wrought,
- A silver bowl that held a copious draught,
- And twelve large vessels of unmingled wine,
- Mellifluous, undecaying, and divine!
- Which now, some ages from his race conceal’d,240
- The hoary sire in gratitude reveal’d.
- Such was the wine: to quench whose fervent steam
- Scarce twenty measures from the living stream
- To cool one cup sufficed: the goblet crown’d
- Breathed aromatic fragrances around.
- Of this an ample vase we heav’d aboard,
- And brought another with provisions stor’d.
- My soul foreboded I should find the bower
- Of some fell monster, fierce with barb’rous power;
- Some rustic wretch, who liv’d in Heav’n’s despite,250
- Contemning laws, and trampling on the right.
- The cave we found, but vacant all within
- (His flock the giant tended on the green):
- But round the grot we gaze; and all we view,
- In order ranged, our admiration drew:
- The bending shelves with loads of cheeses press’d,
- The folded flocks each sep’rate from the rest
- (The larger here, and there the lesser lambs,
- The new-fall’n young here bleating for their dams;
- The kid distinguish’d from the lambkin lies):260
- The cavern echoes with responsive cries.
- Capacious chargers all around were laid,
- Full pails, and vessels of the milking trade.
- With fresh provisions hence our fleet to store
- My friends advise me, and to quit the shore;
- Or drive a flock of sheep and goats away,
- Consult our safety, and put off to sea.
- The wholesome counsel rashly I declin’d,
- Curious to view the man of monstrous kind,269
- And try what social rites a savage lends:
- Dire rites, alas! and fatal to my friends!
- ‘Then first a fire we kindle, and prepare!
- For his return with sacrifice and prayer.
- The laden shelves afford us full repast;
- We sit expecting. Lo! he comes at last.
- Near half a forest on his back he bore,
- And cast the pond’rous burden at the door.
- It thunder’d as it fell. We trembled then,
- And sought the deep recesses of the den.
- Now, driv’n before him thro’ the arching rock,280
- Came tumbling, heaps on heaps, th’ unnumber’d flock:
- Big-udder’d ewes, and goats of female kind
- (The males were penn’d in outward courts behind);
- Then, heav’d on high, a rock’s enormous weight
- To the cave’s mouth he roll’d, and closed the gate
- (Scarce twenty four-wheel’d cars, compact and strong,
- The massy load could bear, or roll along).
- He next betakes him to his evening cares,
- And, sitting down, to milk his flocks prepares;289
- Of half their udders eases first the dams,
- Then to the mothers’ teats submits the lambs.
- Half the white stream to hard’ning cheese he press’d, }
- And high in wicker-baskets heap’d: the rest, }
- Reserv’d in bowls, supplied his nightly feast. }
- His labour done, he fired the pile, that gave
- A sudden blaze, and lighted all the cave.
- We stand discover’d by the rising fires;
- Askance the giant glares, and thus inquires:
- ‘ “What are ye, guests? on what adventure, say,299
- Thus far ye wander thro’ the wat’ry way?
- Pirates perhaps, who seek thro’ seas unknown
- The lives of others, and expose your own?”
- ‘His voice like thunder thro’ the cavern sounds:
- My bold companions thrilling fear confounds,
- Appall’d at sight of more than mortal man!
- At length, with heart recover’d, I began:
- ‘ “From Troy’s famed fields, sad wand’rers o’er the main,
- Behold the relics of the Grecian train!
- Thro’ various seas, by various perils, toss’d,
- And forc’d by storms, unwilling, on your coast;310
- Far from our destin’d course and native land,
- Such was our fate, and such high Jove’s command!
- Nor what we are befits us to disclaim,
- Atrides’ friends (in arms a mighty name),
- Who taught proud Troy and all her sons to bow:
- Victors of late, but humble suppliants now!
- Low at thy knee thy succour we implore;
- Respect us, human, and relieve us, poor.
- At least, some hospitable gift bestow;319
- ’T is what the happy to th’ unhappy owe:
- ’T is what the Gods require: those Gods revere;
- The poor and stranger are their constant care;
- To Jove their cause, and their revenge belongs,
- He wanders with them, and he feels their wrongs.”
- ‘ “Fools that ye are” (the savage thus replies,
- His inward fury blazing at his eyes),
- “Or strangers, distant far from our abodes,
- To bid me rev’rence or regard the Gods,
- Know then, we Cyclops are a race above
- Those air-bred people, and their goat-nurs’d Jove;330
- And learn, our power proceeds with thee and thine,
- Not as he wills, but as ourselves incline.
- But answer, the good ship that brought ye o’er,
- Where lies she anchor’d? near or off the shore?”
- ‘Thus he. His meditated fraud I find
- (Vers’d in the turns of various human-kind),
- And, cautious, thus: “Against a dreadful rock,
- Fast by your shore, the gallant vessel broke.
- Scarce with these few I ’scaped, of all my train: }
- Whom angry Neptune whelm’d beneath the main:340 }
- The scatter’d wreck the winds blew back again.” }
- ‘He answer’d with his deed: his bloody hand
- Snatch’d two, unhappy! of my martial band;
- And dash’d like dogs against the stony floor:
- The pavement swims with brains and mingled gore.
- Torn limb from limb, he spreads his horrid feast,
- And fierce devours it like a mountain beast:
- He sucks the marrow, and the blood he drains,
- Nor entrails, flesh, nor solid bone remains.
- We see the death from which we cannot move,350
- And humbled groan beneath the hand of Jove.
- His ample maw with human carnage fill’d,
- A milky deluge next the giant swill’d;
- Then, stretch’d in length o’er half the cavern’d rock,
- Lay senseless, and supine, amidst the flock.
- To seize the time, and with a sudden wound
- To fix the slumb’ring monster to the ground,
- My soul impels me! and in act I stand
- To draw the sword; but wisdom held my hand.
- A deed so rash had finish’d all our fate,360
- No mortal forces from the lofty gate
- Could roll the rock. In hopeless grief we lay,
- And sigh, expecting the return of day.
- ‘Now did the Rosy-finger’d Morn arise,
- And shed her sacred light along the skies.
- He wakes, he lights the fires, he milks the dams,
- And to the mothers’ teats submits the lambs.
- The task thus finish’d of his morning hours,
- Two more he snatches, murders and devours.
- Then pleas’d, and whistling, drives his flock before,370
- Removes the rocky mountain from the door,
- And shuts again: with equal ease disposed
- As a light quiver’s lid is oped and closed.
- His giant voice the echoing region fills:
- His flocks, obedient, spread o’er all the hills.
- ‘Thus left behind, ev’n in the last despair
- I thought, devised, and Pallas heard my prayer.
- Revenge, and doubt, and caution, work’d my breast;
- But this of many counsels seem’d the best:
- The monster’s club within the cave I spied,380
- A tree of stateliest growth, and yet undried,
- Green from the wood: of height and bulk so vast,
- The largest ship might claim it for a mast.
- This shorten’d of its top, I gave my train
- A fathom’s length, to shape it and to plane:
- The narrower end I sharpen’d to a spire;
- Whose point we harden’d with the force of fire,
- And hid it in the dust that strew’d the cave.
- Then to my few companions, bold and brave,
- Proposed, who first the venturous deed should try,390
- In the broad orbit of his monstrous eye
- To plunge the brand, and twirl the pointed wood,
- When slumber next should tame the man of blood.
- Just as I wish’d, the lots were cast on four:
- Myself the fifth. We stand and wait the hour.
- He comes with ev’ning: all his fleecy flock
- Before him march, and pour into the rock:
- Not one, or male or female, stay’d behind
- (So fortune chanc’d, or so some God design’d);
- Then heaving high the stone’s unwieldy weight,400
- He roll’d it on the cave, and closed the gate.
- First down he sits, to milk the woolly dams,
- And then permits their udders to the lambs.
- Next seiz’d two wretches more, and headlong cast,
- Brain’d on the rock; his second dire repast.
- I then approach’d him reeking with their gore,
- And held the brimming goblet foaming o’er:
- “Cyclop! since human flesh has been thy feast,
- Now drain this goblet, potent to digest;
- Know hence what treasures in our ship we lost,410
- And what rich liquors other climates boast.
- We to thy shore the precious freight shall bear,
- If home thou send us, and vouchsafe to spare.
- But oh! thus furious, thirsting thus for gore, }
- The sons of men shall ne’er approach thy shore, }
- And never shalt thou taste this nectar more.” }
- ‘He heard, he took, and, pouring down his throat,
- Delighted, swill’d the large luxurious draught.
- “More! give me more” (he cried), “the boon be thine,
- Whoe’er thou art that bear’st celestial wine!420
- Declare thy name: not mortal is this juice,
- Such as th’ unbless’d Cyclopean climes produce
- (Tho’ sure our vine the largest cluster yields,
- And Jove’s scorn’d thunder serves to drench our fields);
- But this descended from the bless’d abodes,
- A rill of nectar, streaming from the Gods.”
- ‘He said, and greedy grasp’d the heady bowl,
- Thrice drain’d, and pour’d the deluge on his soul.
- His sense lay cover’d with the dozy fume;
- While thus my fraudful speech I reassume.430
- “Thy promised boon, O Cyclop! now I claim,
- And plead my title; Noman is my name.
- By that distinguish’d from my tender years,
- ’T is what my parents call me, and my peers.”
- ‘The giant then: “Our promised grace receive,
- The hospitable boon we mean to give:
- When all thy wretched crew have felt my power,
- Noman shall be the last I will devour.”
- ‘He said: then, nodding with the fumes of wine,
- Dropp’d his huge head, and snoring lay supine.440
- His neck obliquely o’er his shoulders hung,
- Press’d with the weight of sleep, that tames the strong:
- There belch’d the mingled streams of wine and blood,
- And human flesh, his indigested food.
- Sudden I stir the embers, and inspire
- With animating breath the seeds of fire;
- Each drooping spirit with bold words repair,
- And urge my train the dreadful deed to dare:
- The stake now glow’d beneath the burning bed
- (Green as it was) and sparkled fiery red.450
- Then forth the vengeful instrument I bring;
- With beating hearts my fellows form a ring.
- Urged by some present God, they swift let fall
- The pointed torment on his visual ball.
- Myself above them from a rising ground
- Guide the sharp stake, and twirl it round and round.
- As when a shipwright stands his workmen o’er,
- Who ply the wimble, some huge beam to bore;
- Urged on all hands, it nimbly spins about,
- The grain deep-piercing till it scoops it out:460
- In his broad eye so whirls the fiery wood;
- From the pierc’d pupil spouts the boiling blood;
- Singed are his brows; the scorching lids grow black;
- The jelly bubbles, and the fibres crack.
- And as when arm’rers temper in the ford
- The keen-edg’d pole-axe, or the shining sword,
- The red-hot metal hisses in the lake,
- Thus in his eye-ball hiss’d the plunging stake.
- He sends a dreadful groan, the rocks around
- Thro’ all their inmost winding caves resound.470
- Scared we receded. Forth with frantic hand,
- He tore, and dash’d on earth the gory brand:
- Then calls the Cyclops, all that round him dwell,
- With voice like thunder, and a direful yell.
- From all their dens the one-eyed race repair,
- From rifted rocks, and mountains bleak in air.
- All haste, assembled at his well-known roar,
- Inquire the cause, and crowd the cavern door.
- ‘ “What hurts thee, Polypheme? what strange affright
- Thus breaks our slumbers, and disturbs the night?480
- Does any mortal, in th’ unguarded hour
- Of sleep, oppress thee, or by fraud or power?
- Or thieves insidious thy fair flock surprise?”
- Thus they: the Cyclop from his den replies:
- ‘ “Friends, Noman kills me; Noman, in the hour
- Of sleep, oppresses me with fraudful power.”
- “If no man hurt thee, but the hand divine
- Inflict disease, it fits thee to resign:
- To Jove or to thy father Neptune pray!”
- The brethren cried, and instant strode away.490
- ‘Joy touch’d my secret soul and conscious heart,
- Pleas’d with th’ effect of conduct and of art.
- Meantime the Cyclop, raging with his wound,
- Spreads his wide arms, and searches round and round:
- At last, the stone removing from the gate,
- With hands extended in the midst he sate:
- And search’d each passing sheep, and felt it o’er,
- Secure to seize us ere we reach’d the door
- (Such as his shallow wit he deem’d was mine);
- But secret I revolv’d the deep design:500
- ’T was for our lives my lab’ring bosom wrought;
- Each scheme I turn’d, and sharpen’d ev’ry thought;
- This way and that I cast to save my friends,
- Till one resolve my varying counsel ends.
- ‘Strong were the rams, with native purple fair,
- Well fed, and largest of the fleecy care.
- These, three and three, with osier bands we tied
- (The twining bands the Cyclop’s bed supplied);
- The midmost bore a man, the outward two
- Secured each side: so bound we all the crew.510
- One ram remain’d, the leader of the flock;
- In his deep fleece my grasping hands I lock,
- And fast beneath, in woolly curls inwove,
- There cling implicit, and confide in Jove.
- When rosy morning glimmer’d o’er the dales,
- He drove to pasture all the lusty males:
- The ewes still folded, with distended thighs
- Unmilk’d, lay bleating in distressful cries.
- But heedless of those cares, with anguish stung,
- He felt their fleeces as they pass’d along,520
- (Fool that he was), and let them safely go,
- All unsuspecting of their freight below.
- ‘The master ram at last approach’d the gate,
- Charged with his wool, and with Ulysses’ fate.
- Him, while he pass’d, the monster blind bespoke:
- “What makes my ram the lag of all the flock?
- First thou wert wont to crop the flow’ry mead,
- First to the field and river’s bank to lead;
- And first with stately step at ev’ning hour
- Thy fleecy fellows usher to their bower.530
- Now far the last, with pensive pace and slow
- Thou mov’st, as conscious of thy master’s woe!
- Seest thou these lids that now unfold in vain?
- (The deed of Noman and his wicked train!)
- Oh! didst thou feel for thy afflicted lord,
- And would but Fate the power of speech afford,
- Soon might’st thou tell me, where in secret here
- The dastard lurks, all trembling with his fear:
- Swung round and round, and dash’d from rock to rock,
- His batter’d brains should on the pavement smoke.540
- No ease, no pleasure my sad heart receives,
- While such a monster as vile Noman lives.”
- ‘The giant spoke, and thro’ the hollow rock
- Dismiss’d the ram, the father of the flock.
- No sooner freed, and thro’ th’ inclosure pass’d,
- First I release myself, my fellows last:
- Fat sheep and goats in throngs we drive before,
- And reach our vessel on the winding shore.
- With joy the sailors view their friends return’d,
- And hail us living, whom as dead they mourn’d.550
- Big tears of transport stand in ev’ry eye:
- I check their fondness, and command to fly.
- Aboard in haste they heave the wealthy sheep,
- And snatch their oars, and rush into the deep.
- ‘Now off at sea, and from the shallows clear,
- As far as human voice could reach the ear,
- With taunts the distant giant I accost:
- “Hear me, O Cyclop! hear, ungracious host!
- ’T was on no coward, no ignoble slave,
- Thou meditat’dst thy meal in yonder cave;
- But one the vengeance fated from above561
- Doom’d to inflict; the instrument of Jove.
- Thy barb’rous breach of hospitable bands
- The God, the God revenges by my hands.”
- ‘These words the Cyclop’s burning rage provoke;
- From the tall hill he rends a pointed rock;
- High o’er the billows flew the massy load,
- And near the ship came thund’ring on the flood.
- It almost brush’d the helm, and fell before:
- The whole sea shook, and refluent beat the shore.570
- The strong concussion on the heaving tide
- Roll’d back the vessel to the island’s side:
- Again I shov’d her off; our fate to fly,
- Each nerve we stretch, and ev’ry oar we ply.
- Just ’scaped impending death, when now again
- We twice as far had furrow’d back the main,
- Once more I raise my voice; my friends, afraid,
- With mild entreaties my design dissuade:
- “What boots the godless giant to provoke,
- Whose arm may sink us at a single stroke?580
- Already, when the dreadful rock he threw,
- Old Ocean shook, and back his surges flew.
- The sounding voice directs his aim again;
- The rock o’erwhelms us, and we ’scaped in vain.”
- ‘But I, of mind elate, and scorning fear,
- Thus with new taunts insult the monster’s ear:
- “Cyclop! if any, pitying thy disgrace,
- Ask who disfigured thus that eyeless face?
- Say ’t was Ulysses; ’t was his deed, declare,
- Laërtes’ son, of Ithaca the fair;590
- Ulysses, far in fighting fields renown’d,
- Before whose arm Troy tumbled to the ground.”
- ‘Th’ astonish’d savage with a roar replies:
- “Oh Heav’ns! oh faith of ancient prophecies!
- This Telemus Eurymedes foretold
- (The mighty seer who on these hills grew old;
- Skill’d the dark fates of mortals to declare,
- And learn’d in all wing’d omens of the air);
- Long since he menaced, such was Fate’s command;599
- And named Ulysses’ as the destin’d hand.
- I deem’d some godlike giant to behold,
- Or lofty hero, haughty, brave, and bold;
- Not this weak pigmy-wretch, of mean design,
- Who not by strength subdued me, but by wine.
- But come, accept our gifts, and join to pray
- Great Neptune’s blessing on the wat’ry way;
- For his I am, and I the lineage own;
- Th’ immortal father no less boasts the son.
- His power can heal me, and re-light my eye;
- And only his, of all the Gods on high.”610
- ‘ “Oh! could this arm” (I thus aloud rejoin’d)
- “From that vast bulk dislodge thy bloody mind,
- And send thee howling to the realms of night,
- As sure as Neptune cannot give thee sight!”
- ‘Thus I; while raging he repeats his cries,
- With hands uplifted to the starry skies:
- “Hear me, O Neptune; thou whose arms are hurl’d
- From shore to shore, and gird the solid world.
- If thine I am, nor thou my birth disown,
- And if th’ unhappy Cyclop be thy son,620
- Let not Ulysses breathe his native air,
- Laërtes’ son, of Ithaca the fair!
- If to review his country be his fate,
- Be it thro’ toils and suff’rings, long and late;
- His lost companions let him first deplore;
- Some vessel, not his own, transport him o’er;
- And when at home from foreign suff’rings freed,
- More near and deep, domestic woes succeed!”
- ‘With imprecations thus he fill’d the air,
- And angry Neptune heard th’ unrighteous prayer.630
- A larger rock then heaving from the plain,
- He whirl’d it round; it sung across the main;
- It fell, and brush’d the stern: the billows roar,
- Shake at the weight, and refluent beat the shore.
- ‘With all our force we kept aloof to sea,
- And gain’d the island where our vessels lay.
- Our sight the whole collected navy cheer’d,
- Who, waiting long, by turns had hoped and fear’d.
- There, disembarking on the green sea side,
- We land our cattle, and the spoil divide:640
- Of these due shares to ev’ry sailor fall;
- The master ram was voted mine by all:
- And him (the guardian of Ulysses’ fate)
- With pious mind to Heav’n I consecrate.
- But the great God, whose thunder rends the skies,
- Averse, beholds the smoking sacrifice;
- And sees me wand’ring still from coast to coast:
- And all my vessels, all my people, lost!
- While thoughtless we indulge the genial rite,
- As plenteous cates and flowing bowls invite;650
- Till ev’ning Phœbus roll’d away the light:
- Stretch’d on the shores in careless ease we rest,
- Till ruddy morning purpled o’er the east;
- Then from their anchors all our ships unbind,
- And mount the decks, and call the willing wind.
- Now ranged in order on our banks, we sweep
- With hasty strokes the hoarse resounding deep;
- Blind to the future, pensive with our fears,
- Glad for the living, for the dead in tears.’

BOOK X

ADVENTURES WITH ÆOLUS, THE LÆSTRYGONS, AND CIRCE

ARGUMENT

Ulysses arrives at the island of Æolus, who gives him prosperous winds, and incloses the adverse ones in a bag, which his companions untying, they are driven back again, and rejected. Then they sail to the Læstrygons, where they lose eleven ships, and, with one only remaining, proceed to the island of Circe. Eurylochus is sent first with some companions, all which, except Eurylochus, are transformed into swine. Ulysses then undertakes the adventure, and by the help of Mercury, who gives him the herb Moly, overcomes the enchantress, and procures the restoration of his men. After a year’s stay with her, he prepares, at her instigation, for his voyage to the infernal shades.

- ‘At length we reach’d Æolia’s sea-girt shore,
- Where great Hippotades the sceptre bore,
- A floating isle! High rais’d by toil divine,
- Strong walls of brass the rocky coast confine.
- Six blooming youths, in private grandeur bred,
- And six fair daughters, graced the royal bed:
- These sons their sisters wed, and all remain
- Their parents’ pride, and pleasure of their reign.
- All day they feast, all day the bowls flow round,
- And joy and music thro’ the isle resound:10
- At night each pair on splendid carpets lay,
- And crown’d with love the pleasures of the day.
- ‘This happy port affords our wand’ring fleet
- A month’s reception, and a safe retreat.
- Full oft the Monarch urged me to relate
- The fall of Ilion, and the Grecian Fate;
- Full oft I told; at length for parting mov’d;
- The King with mighty gifts my suit approv’d.
- The adverse winds in leathern bags he braced,
- Compress’d their force, and lock’d each struggling blast:20
- For him the mighty Sire of Gods assign’d
- The tempest’s lord, the Tyrant of the Wind:
- His word alone the list’ning storms obey,
- To smooth the deep, or swell the foamy sea.
- These in my hollow ship the Monarch hung,
- Securely fetter’d by a silver thong:
- But Zephyrus exempt, with friendly gales }
- He charged to fill and guide the swelling sails: }
- Rare gift! but O, what gift to fools avails? }
- ‘Nine prosp’rous days we plied the lab’ring oar;30
- The tenth presents our welcome native shore:
- The hills display the beacon’s friendly light,
- And rising mountains gain upon our sight.
- Then first my eyes, by watchful toils oppress’d,
- Complied to take the balmy gifts of rest:
- Then first my hands did from the rudder part
- (So much the love of home possess’d my heart):
- When lo! on board a fond debate arose,
- What rare device those vessels might inclose?
- What sum, what prize from Æolus I brought?40
- Whilst to his neighbour each express’d his thought:
- ‘ “Say, whence, ye Gods, contending nations strive
- Who most shall please, who most our hero give?
- Long have his coffers groan’d with Trojan spoils;
- Whilst we, the wretched partners of his toils,
- Reproach’d by want, our fruitless labours mourn,
- And only rich in barren fame return.
- Now Æolus, ye see, augments his store:
- But come, my friends, these mystic gifts explore.”
- They said: and (oh curs’d Fate!) the thongs unbound;50
- The gushing tempest sweeps the ocean round;
- Snatch’d in the whirl, the hurried navy flew,
- The ocean widen’d, and the shores withdrew.
- Rous’d from my fatal sleep, I long debate
- If still to live, or desp’rate plunge to fate;
- Thus doubting, prostrate on the deck I lay,
- Till all the coward thoughts of death gave way.
- ‘Meanwhile our vessels plough the liquid plain, }
- And soon the known Æolian coast regain; }
- Our groans the rocks remurmur’d to the main.60 }
- We leap’d on shore, and with a scanty feast
- Our thirst and hunger hastily repress’d;
- That done, two chosen heralds straight attend
- Our second progress to my royal friend:
- And him amidst his jovial sons we found;
- The banquet steaming, and the goblets crown’d:
- There humbly stopp’d with conscious shame and awe,
- Nor nearer than the gate presumed to draw.
- But soon his sons their well-known guest descried,
- And, starting from their couches, loudly cried,70
- “Ulysses here! what dæmon couldst thou meet
- To thwart thy passage, and repel thy fleet?
- Wast thou not furuish’d by our choicest care
- For Greece, for home, and all thy soul held dear?”
- Thus they; in silence long my fate I mourn’d,
- At length these words with accent low return’d:
- “Me, lock’d in sleep, my faithless crew bereft
- Of all the blessings of your godlike gift!
- But grant, oh grant our loss we may retrieve;
- A favour you, and you alone can give.”80
- ‘Thus I with art to move their pity tried,
- And touch’d the youths; but their stern Sire replied:
- “Vile wretch, begone! this instant I command
- Thy fleet accurs’d to leave our hallow’d land.
- His baneful suit pollutes these bless’d abodes,
- Whose Fate proclaims him hateful to the Gods.”
- ‘Thus fierce he said: we sighing went our way,
- And with desponding hearts put off to sea.
- The sailors spent with toils their folly mourn,89
- But mourn in vain; no prospect of return.
- Six days and nights a doubtful course we steer; }
- The next proud Lamos’ stately towers appear, }
- And Læstrygonia’s gates arise distinct in air. }
- The shepherd, quitting here at night the plain,
- Calls, to succeed his cares, the watchful swain;
- But he that scorns the chains of sleep to wear,
- And adds the herdsman’s to the shepherd’s care,
- So near the pastures, and so short the way, }
- His double toils may claim a double pay, }
- And join the labours of the night and day.100 }
- ‘Within a long recess a bay there lies,
- Edg’d round with cliffs high pointing to the skies;
- The jutting shores that swell on either side
- Contract its mouth, and break the rushing tide.
- Our eager sailors seize the fair retreat,
- And bound within the port their crowded fleet;
- For here retired the sinking billows sleep,
- And smiling calmness silver’d o’er the deep.
- I only in the bay refused to more,109
- And fix’d, without, my halsers to the shore.
- ‘From thence we climb’d a point, whose airy brow
- Commands the prospect of the plains below:
- No tracks of beasts, or signs of men, we found,
- But smoky volumes rolling from the ground.
- Two with our herald thither we command,
- With speed to learn what men possess’d the land.
- They went, and kept the wheel’s smooth beaten road
- Which to the city drew the mountain wood;
- When lo! they met, beside a crystal spring,
- The daughter of Antiphates the king;120
- She to Artacia’s silver streams came down
- (Artacia’s streams alone supply the town);
- The damsel they approach, and ask’d what race
- The people were? who Monarch of the place?
- With joy the maid th’ unwary strangers heard,
- And show’d them where the royal dome appear’d.
- They went; but, as they ent’ring saw the Queen
- Of size enormous, and terrific mien
- (Not yielding to some bulky mountain’s height),129
- A sudden horror struck their aching sight.
- Swift at her call her husband scour’d away
- To wreak his hunger on the destin’d prey;
- One for his food the raging glutton slew,
- But two rush’d out, and to the navy flew.
- ‘Balk’d of his prey, the yelling monster flies,
- And fills the city with his hideous cries:
- A ghastly band of giants hear the roar,
- And, pouring down the mountains, crowd the shore.
- Fragments they rend from off the craggy brow,
- And dash the ruins on the ships below:140
- The crackling vessels burst; hoarse groans arise,
- And mingled horrors echo to the skies:
- The men, like fish, they stuck upon the flood,
- And cramm’d their filthy throats with human food.
- Whilst thus their fury rages at the bay,
- My sword our cables cut, I call’d to weigh;
- And charged my men, as they from Fate would fly,
- Each nerve to strain, each bending oar to ply.
- The sailors catch the word, their oars they seize,
- And sweep with equal strokes the smoky seas.150
- Clear of the rocks th’ impatient vessel flies;
- Whilst in the port each wretch encumber’d dies.
- With earnest haste my frighted sailors press,
- While kindling transports glow’d at our success;
- But the sad fate that did our friends destroy,
- Cool’d every breast, and damp’d the rising joy.
- ‘Now dropp’d our anchors in the Ææan bay,
- Where Circe dwelt, the Daughter of the Day!
- Her mother Persè, of old Ocean’s strain,
- Thus from the Sun descended, and the Main160
- (From the same lineage stern Æætes came,
- The far-famed brother of th’ enchantress dame):
- Goddess, and Queen, to whom the powers belong
- Of dreadful magic, and commanding song.
- Some God directing, to this peaceful bay
- Silent we came, and melancholy lay,
- Spent and o’erwatch’d. Two days and nights roll’d on,
- And now the third succeeding morning shone.
- I climb’d a cliff, with spear and sword in hand,
- Whose ridge o’erlook’d a shady length of land;170
- To learn if aught of mortal works appear,
- Or cheerful voice of mortal strike the ear?
- From the high point I mark’d, in distant view,
- A stream of curling smoke ascending blue,
- And spiry tops, the tufted trees above,
- Of Circe’s palace bosom’d in the grove.
- ‘Thither to haste, the region to explore,
- Was first my thought: but, speeding back to shore,
- I deem’d it best to visit first my crew,
- And send out spies the dubious coast to view.180
- As down the hill I solitary go,
- Some Power divine, who pities human woe,
- Sent a tall stag, descending from the wood,
- To cool his fervour in the crystal flood;
- Luxuriant on the wave-worn bank he lay,
- Stretch’d forth and panting in the sunny ray.
- I launch’d my spear, and with a sudden wound
- Transpierc’d his back, and fix’d him to the ground.
- He falls, and mourns his fate with human cries:
- Thro’ the wide wound the vital spirit flies.190
- I drew, and casting on the river’s side }
- The bloody spear, his gather’d feet I tied }
- With twining osiers which the bank supplied. }
- An ell in length the pliant wisp I weav’d,
- And the huge body on my shoulders heav’d:
- Then, leaning on my spear with both my hands,
- Upbore my load, and press’d the sinking sands
- With weighty steps, till at the ship I threw
- The welcome burden, and bespoke my crew:
- ‘ “Cheer up, my friends! it is not yet our fate200
- To glide with ghosts thro’ Pluto’s gloomy gate.
- Food in the desert land, behold! is giv’n;
- Live, and enjoy the providence of Heav’n.”
- ‘The joyful crew survey his mighty size,
- And on the future banquet feast their eyes,
- As huge in length extended lay the beast;
- Then wash their hands, and hasten to the feast.
- There, till the setting sun roll’d down the light,
- They sate indulging in the genial rite.
- When ev’ning rose, and darkness cover’d o’er210
- The face of things, we slept along the shore.
- But when the rosy morning warm’d the east,
- My men I summon’d, and these words address’d:
- ‘ “Foll’wers and Friends! attend what I propose,
- Ye sad companions of Ulysses’ woes!
- We know not here what land before us lies, }
- Or to what quarter now we turn our eyes, }
- Or where the sun shall set, or where shall rise. }
- Here let us think (if thinking be not vain)
- If any counsel, any hope remain.220
- Alas! from yonder promontory’s brow
- I view’d the coast, a region flat and low;
- An isle encircled with the boundless flood;
- A length of thickets, and entangled wood.
- Some smoke I saw amidst the forest rise,
- And all around it only seas and skies!”
- ‘With broken hearts my sad companions stood, }
- Mindful of Cyclops and his human food, }
- And horrid Læstrygons, the men of blood. }
- Presaging tears apace began to rain:230
- But tears in mortal miseries are vain.
- In equal parts I straight divide my band,
- And name a chief each party to command;
- I led the one, and of the other side
- Appointed brave Eurylochus the guide.
- Then in the brazen helm the lots we throw,
- And Fortune casts Eurylochus to go:
- He march’d with twice eleven in his train;
- Pensive they march, and pensive we remain.
- ‘The palace in a woody vale they found,240
- High rais’d of stone; a shaded space around;
- Where mountain wolves and brindled lions roam
- (By magic tamed), familiar to the dome.
- With gentle blandishment our men they meet,
- And wag their tails, and fawning lick their feet.
- As from some feast a man returning late,
- His faithful dogs all meet him at the gate,
- Rejoicing round, some morsel to receive
- (Such as the good man ever used to give),
- Domestic thus the grisly beasts drew near;250
- They gaze with wonder not unmix’d with fear.
- Now on the threshold of the dome they stood,
- And heard a voice resounding thro’ the wood:
- Placed at her loom within, the Goddess sung;
- The vaulted roofs and solid pavement rung.
- O’er the fair web the rising figures shine,
- Immortal labour! worthy hands divine.
- Polites to the rest the question mov’d
- (A gallant leader, and a man I lov’d):
- ‘ “What voice celestial, chanting to the loom260
- (Or Nymph, or Goddess), echoes from the room?
- Say, shall we seek access?” With that they call;
- And wide unfold the portals of the hall.
- ‘The Goddess, rising, asks her guests to stay,
- Who blindly follow where she leads the way.
- Eurylochus alone of all the band,
- Suspecting fraud, more prudently remain’d.
- On thrones around with downy cov’rings graced,
- With semblance fair, th’ unhappy men she placed.
- Milk newly press’d, the sacred flour of wheat,270
- And honey fresh, and Pramnian wines the treat:
- But venom’d was the bread, and mix’d the bowl,
- With drugs of force to darken all the soul:
- Soon in the luscious feast themselves they lost,
- And drank oblivion of their native coast.
- Instant her circling wand the Goddess waves,
- To hogs transforms them, and the sty receives.
- No more was seen the human form divine;
- Head, face, and members, bristle into swine:
- Still curs’d with sense, their minds remain alone,280
- And their own voice affrights them when they groan.
- Meanwhile the Goddess in disdain bestows
- The mast and acorn, brutal food! and strows
- The fruits and cornel, as their feast, around;
- Now prone and grov’ling on unsav’ry ground.
- ‘Eurylochus, with pensive steps and slow,
- Aghast returns; the messenger of woe,
- And bitter fate. To speak he made essay; }
- In vain essay’d, nor would his tongue obey. }
- His swelling heart denied the words their way:290 }
- But speaking tears the want of words supply,
- And the full soul burst copious from his eye.
- Affrighted, anxious for our fellows’ fates,
- We press to hear what sadly he relates:
- ‘ “We went, Ulysses (such was thy command),
- Thro’ the lone thicket and the desert land.
- A palace in a woody vale we found,
- Brown with dark forests, and with shades around.
- A voice celestial echoed thro’ the dome,
- Or Nymph or Goddess, chanting to the loom.300
- Access we sought, nor was access denied:
- Radiant she came; the portals open’d wide:
- The Goddess mild invites the guests to stay:
- They blindly follow where she leads the way.
- I only wait behind of all the train:
- I waited long, and eyed the doors in vain:
- The rest are vanish’d, none repass’d the gate;
- And not a man appears to tell their fate.”
- ‘I heard, and instant o’er my shoulder flung
- The belt in which my weighty faulchion hung310
- (A beamy blade): then seiz’d the bended bow,
- And bade him guide the way, resolv’d to go.
- He, prostrate falling, with both hands embraced
- My knees, and weeping thus his suit address’d:
- ‘ “O King, belov’d of Jove, thy servant spare,
- And ah, thyself the rash attempt forbear!
- Never, alas! thou never shalt return,
- Or see the wretched, for whose loss we mourn.
- With what remains from certain ruin fly,
- And save the few not fated yet to die.”
- ‘I answer’d stern: “Inglorious then remain,321
- Here feast and loiter, and desert thy train.
- Alone, unfriended, will I tempt my way;
- The laws of Fate compel, and I obey.”
- ‘This said, and scornful turning from the shore
- My haughty step, I stalk’d the valley o’er.
- Till now, approaching nigh the magic bower,
- Where dwelt th’ enchantress skill’d in herbs of power,
- A form divine forth issued from the wood
- (Immortal Hermes with the golden rod),330
- In human semblance. On his bloomy face
- Youth smiled celestial, with each opening grace.
- He seiz’d my hand, and gracious thus began:
- ‘ “Ah whither roam’st thou, much-enduring man?
- O blind to Fate! what led thy steps to rove
- The horrid mazes of this magic grove?
- Each friend you seek in yon enclosure lies,
- All lost their form, and habitants of sties.
- Think’st thou by wit to model their escape?
- Sooner shalt thou, a stranger to thy shape,
- Fall prone their equal: first thy danger know,341
- Then take the antidote the Gods bestow.
- The plant I give thro’ all the direful bower
- Shall guard thee, and avert the evil hour.
- Now hear her wicked arts. Before thy eyes
- The bowl shall sparkle, and the banquet rise;
- Take this, nor from the faithless feast abstain,
- For temper’d drugs and poison shall be vain.
- Soon as she strikes her wand, and gives the word,
- Draw forth and brandish thy refulgent sword,350
- And menace death: those menaces shall move
- Her alter’d mind to blandishment and love.
- Nor shun the blessing proffer’d to thy arms.
- Ascend her bed, and taste celestial charms:
- So shall thy tedious toils a respite find,
- And thy lost friends return to human-kind.
- But swear her first by those dread oaths that tie
- The powers below, the blessed in the sky;
- Lest to thee naked secret fraud be meant,
- Or magic bind thee cold and impotent.”360
- ‘Thus while he spoke, the sov’reign plant he drew,
- Where on th’ all-bearing earth unmark’d it grew,
- And show’d its nature and its wondrous power:
- Black was the root, but milky white the flower;
- Moly the name, to mortals hard to find,
- But all is easy to th’ ethereal kind.
- This Hermes gave, then, gliding off the glade,
- Shot to Olympus from the woodland shade.
- While, full of thought, revolving fates to come,369
- I speed my passage to th’ enchanted dome.
- Arrived, before the lofty gates I stay’d;
- The lofty gates the Goddess wide display’d:
- She leads before, and to the feast invites;
- I follow sadly to the magic rites.
- Radiant with starry studs, a silver seat
- Receiv’d my limbs: a footstool eas’d my feet.
- She mix’d the potion, fraudulent of soul;
- The poison mantled in the golden bowl.
- I took, and quaff’d it, confident in Heav’n:
- Then waved the wand, and then the word was giv’n.380
- “Hence to thy fellows!” (dreadful she began)
- “Go, be a beast!”—I heard, and yet was man.
- ‘Then sudden whirling, like a waving flame,
- My beamy faulchion, I assault the dame.
- Struck with unusual fear, she trembling cries,
- She faints, she falls; she lifts her weeping eyes.
- ‘ “What art thou? say! from whence, from whom you came?
- O more than human! tell thy race, thy name.
- Amazing strength, these poisons to sustain!
- Not mortal thou, nor mortal is thy brain.390
- Or art thou he, the man to come (foretold
- By Hermes, powerful with the wand of gold),
- The man from Troy, who wander’d ocean round;
- The man for wisdom’s various arts renown’d,
- Ulysses? Oh! thy threat’ning fury cease,
- Sheathe thy bright sword, and join our hands in peace!
- Let mutual joys our mutual trust combine,
- And love, and love-born confidence be thine.”
- ‘ “And how, dread Circe!” (furious I rejoin)
- “Can love, and love-born confidence, be mine,400
- Beneath thy charms when my companions groan,
- Transform’d to beasts, with accents not their own?
- O thou of fraudful heart, shall I be led
- To share thy feast-rites, or ascend thy bed;
- That, all unarm’d, thy vengeance may have vent,
- And magic bind me cold and impotent?
- Celestial as thou art, yet stand denied;
- Or swear that oath by which the Gods are tied,
- Swear, in thy soul no latent frauds remain,
- Swear by the vow which never can be vain.”410
- ‘The Goddess swore: then seiz’d my hand and led
- To the sweet transports of the genial bed.
- Ministrant to the Queen, with busy care
- Four faithful handmaids the soft rites prepare;
- Nymphs sprung from fountains, or from shady woods,
- Or the fair offspring of the sacred floods.
- One o’er the couches painted carpets threw,
- Whose purple lustre glow’d against the view:
- White linen lay beneath. Another placed
- The silver stands, with golden flaskets graced:420
- With dulcet bev’rage this the beaker crown’d
- Fair in the midst, with gilded cups around;
- That in the tripod o’er the kindled pile
- The water pours; the bubbling waters boil;
- An ample vase receives the smoking wave;
- And, in the bath prepared, my limbs I lave:
- Reviving sweets repair the mind’s decay,
- And take the painful sense of toil away.
- A vest and tunic o’er me next she threw,
- Fresh from the bath, and dropping balmy dew;430
- Then led and placed me on the sov’reign seat,
- With carpets spread; a footstool at my feet.
- The golden ewer a nymph obsequious brings,
- Replenish’d from the cool translucent springs;
- With copious water the bright vase supplies
- A silver laver of capacious size.
- I wash’d. The table in fair order spread,
- They heap the glitt’ring canisters with bread;
- Viands of various kinds allure the taste,
- Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!440
- Circe in vain invites the feast to share;
- Absent I ponder, and absorb’d in care:
- While scenes of woe rose anxious in my breast,
- The Queen beheld me, and these words address’d:
- ‘ “Why sits Ulysses silent and apart,
- Some hoard of grief close harbour’d at his heart?
- Untouch’d before thee stand the cates divine,
- And unregarded laughs the rosy wine.
- Can yet a doubt or any dread remain,
- When sworn that oath which never can be vain?”450
- ‘I answered: “Goddess! human is my breast,
- By justice sway’d, by tender pity press’d:
- Ill fits it me, whose friends are sunk to beasts,
- To quaff thy bowls, or riot in thy feasts.
- Me would’st thou please? for them thy cares employ,
- And them to me restore, and me to joy.”
- ‘With that she parted: in her potent hand
- She bore the virtue of the magic wand.
- Then, hast’ning to the sties, set wide the door,
- Urged forth, and drove the bristly herd before;460
- Unwieldy, out they rush’d with gen’ral cry,
- Enormous beasts dishonest to the eye.
- Now, touch’d by counter-charms, they change again,
- And stand majestic, and recall’d to men.
- Those hairs of late that bristled ev’ry part,
- Fall off, miraculous effect of art!
- Till all the form in full proportion rise,
- More young, more large, more graceful to my eyes.
- They saw, they knew me, and with eager pace469
- Clung to their master in a long embrace:
- Sad, pleasing sight! with tears each eye ran o’er,
- And sobs of joy re-echoed thro’ the bower;
- Ev’n Circe wept, her adamantine heart
- Felt pity enter, and sustain’d her part.
- ‘ “Son of Laertes!” (then the Queen began)
- “Oh much-enduring, much-experienc’d man!
- Haste to thy vessel on the sea-beat shore,
- Unload thy treasures, and the galley moor;
- Then bring thy friends, secure from future harms,
- And in our grottoes stow thy spoils and arms.”480
- ‘She said. Obedient to her high command
- I quit the place, and hasten to the strand.
- My sad companions on the beach I found,
- Their wistful eyes in floods of sorrow drown’d.
- As from fresh pastures and the dewy field
- (When loaded cribs their ev’ning banquet yield),
- The lowing herds return; around them throng
- With leaps and bounds their late imprison’d young,
- Rush to their mothers with unruly joy,
- And echoing hills return the tender cry:490
- So round me press’d, exulting at my sight,
- With cries and agonies of wild delight,
- The weeping sailors; nor less fierce their joy
- Than if return’d to Ithaca from Troy.
- “Ah master! ever honour’d, ever dear!”
- (These tender words on ev’ry side I hear)
- “What other joy can equal thy return?
- Not that lov’d country for whose sight we mourn,
- The soil that nurs’d us, and that gave us breath:499
- But ah! relate our lost companions’ death.”
- ‘I answer’d cheerful: “Haste, your galley moor
- And bring our treasures and our arms ashore:
- Those in yon hollow caverns let us lay;
- Then rise, and follow where I lead the way.
- Your fellows live; believe your eyes, and come
- To taste the joys of Circe’s sacred dome.”
- ‘With ready speed the joyful crew obey;
- Alone Eurylochus persuades their stay.
- ‘ “Whither” (he cried), “ah whither will ye run?
- Seek ye to meet those evils ye should shun?510
- Will you the terrors of the dome explore,
- In swine to grovel, or in lions roar,
- Or wolf-like howl away the midnight hour
- In dreadful watch around the magic bower?
- Remember Cyclops, and his bloody deed;
- The leader’s rashness made the soldiers bleed.”
- ‘I heard incens’d, and first resolv’d to speed
- My flying faulchion at the rebel’s head.
- Dear as he was, by ties of kindred bound,
- This hand had stretch’d him breathless on the ground;520
- But all at once my interposing train
- For mercy pleaded, nor could plead in vain:
- “Leave here the man who dares his Prince desert,
- Leave to repentance and his own sad heart,
- To guard the ship. Seek we the sacred shades
- Of Circe’s palace, where Ulysses leads.”
- ‘This with one voice declared, the rising train
- Left the black vessel by the murm’ring main.
- Shame touch’d Eurylochus’s alter’d breast;
- He fear’d my threats, and follow’d with the rest.530
- ‘Meanwhile the Goddess, with indulgent cares
- And social joys, the late transform’d repairs;
- The bath, the feast, their fainting soul renews;
- Rich in refulgent robes, and dropping balmy dews:
- Bright’ning with joy their eager eyes behold
- Each other’s face, and each his story told;
- Then gushing tears the narrative confound,
- And with their sobs the vaulted roofs resound.
- When hush’d their passion, thus the Goddess cries:
- “Ulysses, taught by labours to be wise,540
- Let this short memory of grief suffice.
- To me are known the various woes ye bore,
- In storms by sea, in perils on the shore;
- Forget whatever was in Fortune’s power,
- And share the pleasures of this genial hour.
- Such be your minds as ere ye left the coast,
- Or learn’d to sorrow for a country lost.
- Exiles and wand’rers now, where’er ye go,
- Too faithful memory renews your woe:549
- The cause remov’d, habitual griefs remain,
- And the soul saddens by the use of pain.”
- ‘Her kind entreaty mov’d the gen’ral breast;
- Tired with long toil, we willing sunk to rest.
- We plied the banquet, and the bowl we crown’d,
- Till the full circle of the year came round.
- But when the seasons, foll’wing in their train,
- Brought back the months, the days, and hours again,
- As from a lethargy at once they rise,
- And urge their chief with animating cries:
- ‘ “Is this, Ulysses, our inglorious lot?560
- And is the name of Ithaca forgot?
- Shall never the dear land in prospect rise,
- Or the lov’d palace glitter in our eyes?”
- ‘Melting I heard: yet till the sun’s decline
- Prolong’d the feast, and quaff’d the rosy wine:
- But when the shades came on at ev’ning hour,
- And all lay slumb’ring in the dusky bower,
- I came a suppliant to fair Circe’s bed,
- The tender moment seiz’d, and thus I said:
- “Be mindful, Goddess! of thy promise made;570
- Must sad Ulysses ever be delay’d?
- Around their lord my sad companions mourn,
- Each breast beats homeward, anxious to return:
- If but a moment parted from thy eyes,
- Their tears flow round me, and my heart complies.”
- ‘ “Go then” (she cried), “ah go! yet think not I,
- Not Circe, but the Fates, your wish deny.
- Ah hope not yet to breathe thy native air!
- Far other journey first demands thy care;
- To tread th’ uncomfortable paths beneath,
- And view the realms of darkness and of death.581
- There seek the Theban bard, deprived of sight;
- Within, irradiate with prophetic light;
- To whom Persephonè, entire and whole,
- Gave to retain th’ unseparated soul:
- The rest are forms, of empty ether made;
- Impassive semblance, and a flitting shade.”
- ‘Struck at the word, my very heart was dead:
- Pensive I sate: my tears bedew’d the bed:
- To hate the light and life my soul begun,
- And saw that all was grief beneath the sun.591
- Composed at length, the gushing tears suppress’d,
- And my toss’d limbs now wearied into rest,
- “How shall I tread” (I cried), “ah, Circe! say,
- The dark descent, and who shall guide the way?
- Can living eyes behold the realms below?
- What bark to waft me, and what wind to blow?”
- ‘ “Thy fated road” (the magic Power replied),
- “Divine Ulysses! asks no mortal guide.
- Rear but the mast, the spacious sail display,600
- The northern winds shall wing thee on thy way.
- Soon shalt thou reach old Ocean’s utmost ends,
- Where to the main the shelving shore descends:
- The barren trees of Proserpine’s black woods,
- Poplars and willows trembling o’er the floods;
- There fix thy vessel in the lonely bay,
- And enter there the kingdoms void of day:
- Where Phlegethon’s loud torrents, rushing down,
- Hiss in the flaming gulf of Acheron;
- And where, slow-rolling from the Stygian bed,610
- Cocytus’ lamentable waters spread:
- Where the dark rock o’erhangs th’ infernal lake,
- And mingling streams eternal murmurs make.
- First draw thy faulchion, and on ev’ry side
- Trench the black earth a cubit long and wide:
- To all the shades around libations pour,
- And o’er th’ ingredients strew the hallow’d flour:
- New wine and milk, with honey temper’d bring,
- And living water from the crystal spring.
- Then the wan shades and feeble ghosts implore,620
- With promis’d off’rings on thy native shore:
- A barren cow, the stateliest of the isle,
- And, heap’d with various wealth, a blazing pile:
- These to the rest; but to the seer must bleed
- A sable ram, the pride of all thy breed.
- These solemn vows, and holy off’rings, paid
- To all the phantom nations of the dead,
- Be next thy care the sable sheep to place
- Full o’er the pit, and hellward turn their face;
- But from th’ infernal rite thine eye withdraw,630
- And back to Ocean glance with rev’rent awe.
- Sudden shall skim along the dusky glades
- Thin airy shoals, and visionary shades.
- Then give command the sacrifice to haste,
- Let the flay’d victims in the flame be cast,
- And sacred vows and mystic song applied
- To grisly Pluto and his gloomy bride.
- Wide o’er the pool thy faulchion waved around
- Shall drive the spectres from forbidden ground:
- The sacred draught shall all the dead forbear,640
- Till awful from the shades arise the seer.
- Let him, oraculous, the end, the way, }
- The turns of all thy future fate display, }
- Thy pilgrimage to come, and remnant of thy day.” }
- ‘So speaking, from the ruddy orient shone
- The Morn, conspicuous on her golden throne.
- The Goddess with a radiant tunic dress’d
- My limbs, and o’er me cast a silken vest.
- Long flowing robes, of purest white, array649
- The Nymph, that added lustre to the day:
- A tiar wreath’d her head with many a fold;
- Her waist was circled with a zone of gold.
- Forth issuing then, from place to place I flew;
- Rouse man by man, and animate my crew.
- “Rise, rise, my mates! ’t is Circe gives command:
- Our journey calls us: haste, and quit the land.”
- All rise and follow, yet depart not all,
- For Fate decreed one wretched man to fall.
- ‘A youth there was, Elpenor was he named,
- Not much for sense, nor much for courage famed:660
- The youngest of our band, a vulgar soul,
- Born but to banquet, and to drain the bowl.
- He, hot and careless, on a turret’s height
- With sleep repair’d the long debauch of night:
- The sudden tumult stirr’d him where he lay,
- And down he hasten’d, but forgot the way;
- Full headlong from the roof the sleeper fell,
- And snapp’d the spinal joint, and waked in Hell.
- ‘The rest crowd round me with an eager look;
- I met them with a sigh, and thus bespoke:670
- “Already, friends! ye think your toils are o’er,
- Your hopes already touch your native shore:
- Alas! far otherwise the Nymph declares,
- Far other journey first demands our cares:
- To tread th’ uncomfortable paths beneath,
- The dreary realms of darkness and of death;
- To seek Tiresias’ awful shade below,
- And thence our fortunes and our fates to know.”
- ‘My sad companions heard in deep despair;
- Frantic they tore their manly growth of hair;680
- To earth they fell; the tears began to rain;
- But tears in mortal miseries are vain.
- Sadly they fared along the sea-beat shore:
- Still heav’d their hearts, and still their eyes ran o’er.
- The ready victims at our bark we found,
- The sable ewe and ram, together bound.
- For, swift as thought, the Goddess had been there,
- And thence had glided viewless as the air:
- The paths of Gods what mortal can survey?
- Who eyes their motion? who shall trace their way?’690

BOOK XIII

THE ARRIVAL OF ULYSSES IN ITHACA

THE ARGUMENT

Ulysses takes his leave of Alcinoüs and Aretè, and embarks in the evening. Next morning the ship arrives at Ithaca; where the sailors, as Ulysses is yet sleeping, lay him on the shore with all his treasures. On their return, Neptune changes their ship into a rock. In the mean time, Ulysses awaking, knows not his native Ithaca, by reason of a mist which Pallas had cast round him. He breaks into loud lamentations; till the Goddess appearing to him in the form of a shepherd, discovers the country to him, and points out the particular places. He then tells a feigned story of his adventures, upon which she manifests herself, and they consult together on the measures to be taken to destroy the suitors. To conceal his return, and disguise his person the more effectually, she changes him into the figure of an old beggar.

- He ceas’d; but left so pleasing on their ear
- His voice, that list’ning still they seem’d to hear.
- A pause of silence hush’d the shady rooms:
- The grateful conf’rence then the King resumes:
- ‘Whatever toils the great Ulysses pass’d,
- Beneath this happy roof they end at last;
- No longer now from shore to shore to roam,
- Smooth seas and gentle winds invite him home.
- But hear me, Princes! whom these walls enclose,
- For whom my chanter sings, and goblet flows10
- With wine unmix’d (an honour due to age,
- To cheer the grave, and warm the poet’s rage),
- Tho’ labour’d gold, and many a dazzling vest
- Lie heap’d already for our godlike guest:
- Without new treasures let him not remove,
- Large, and expressive of the public love:
- Each Peer a tripod, each a vase bestow,
- A gen’ral tribute, which the state shall owe.’
- This sentence pleas’d: then all their steps address’d
- To sep’rate mansions, and retired to rest.20
- Now did the Rosy-finger’d Morn arise,
- And shed her sacred light along the skies.
- Down to the haven and the ships in haste
- They bore the treasures, and in safety placed.
- The King himself the vases ranged with care;
- Then bade his foll’wers to the feast repair.
- A victim ox beneath the sacred hand
- Of great Alcinoüs falls, and stains the sand.
- To Jove th’ Eternal (Power above all Powers!
- Who wings the winds, and darkens Heav’n with showers),30
- The flames ascend: till ev’ning they prolong
- The rites, more sacred made by heav’nly song:
- For in the midst with public honours graced,
- Thy lyre, divine Demodocus! was placed.
- All, but Ulysses, heard with fix’d delight:
- He sate, and eyed the sun, and wish’d the night:
- Slow seem’d the sun to move, the hours to roll,
- His native home deep-imaged in his soul.
- As the tired ploughman spent with stubborn toil,
- Whose oxen long have torn the furrow’d soil,40
- Sees with delight the sun’s declining ray,
- When home with feeble knees he bends his way
- To late repast (the day’s hard labour done),
- So to Ulysses welcome set the sun;
- Then instant to Alcinoüs and the rest
- (The Scherian states) he turn’d, and thus address’d.
- ‘O thou, the first in merit and command!
- And you the Peers and Princes of the land!
- May ev’ry joy be yours! nor this the least, }
- When due libation shall have crown’d the feast,50 }
- Safe to my home to send your happy guest. }
- Complete are now the bounties you have giv’n,
- Be all those bounties but confirm’d by Heav’n!
- So may I find, when all my wand’rings cease,
- My consort blameless, and my friends in peace.
- On you be ev’ry bliss; and ev’ry day,
- In home-felt joys, delighted roll away:
- Yourselves, your wives, your long-descending race,
- May ev’ry God enrich with ev’ry grace!
- Sure fix’d on virtue may your nation stand,60
- And public evil never touch the land!’
- His words well weigh’d, the gen’ral voice approv’d
- Benign, and instant his dismission mov’d.
- The Monarch to Pontonoüs gave the sign,
- To fill the goblet high with rosy wine:
- ‘Great Jove the Father first’ (he cried) ‘implore;
- Then send the stranger to his native shore.’
- The luscious wine th’ obedient herald brought;
- Around the mansion flow’d the purple draught;
- Each from his seat to each immortal pours,70
- Whom glory circles in th’ Olympian bowers.
- Ulysses sole with air majestic stands,
- The bowl presenting to Aretè’s hands;
- Then thus: ‘O Queen, farewell! be still possess’d
- Of dear remembrance, blessing still and bless’d!
- Till age and death shall gently call thee hence
- (Sure fate of ev’ry mortal excellence).
- Farewell! and joys successive ever spring
- To thee, to thine, the people and the King!’
- Thus he: then parting prints the sandy shore80
- To the fair port: a herald march’d before,
- Sent by Alcinoüs; of Aretè’s train
- Three chosen maids attend him to the main:
- This does a tunic and white vest convey,
- A various casket that, of rich inlay,
- And bread and wine the third. The cheerful mates
- Safe in the hollow poop dispose the cates:
- Upon the deck soft painted robes they spread,
- With linen cover’d, for the hero’s bed.
- He climb’d the lofty stern; then gently press’d90
- The swelling couch, and lay composed to rest.
- Now placed in order, the Phæacian train
- Their cables loose, and launch into the main:
- At once they bend, and strike their equal oars,
- And leave the sinking hills and less’ning shores.
- While on the deck the Chief in silence lies,
- And pleasing slumbers steal upon his eyes.
- As fiery coursers in the rapid race
- Urged by fierce drivers thro’ the dusty space,
- Toss their high heads, and scour along the plain;100
- So mounts the bounding vessel o’er the main.
- Back to the stern the parted billows flow,
- And the black ocean foams and roars below.
- Thus with spread sails the winged galley flies;
- Less swift an eagle cuts the liquid skies;
- Divine Ulysses was her sacred load,
- A man in wisdom equal to a God!
- Much danger, long and mighty toils he bore,
- In storms by sea, and combats on the shore:
- All which soft sleep now banish’d from his breast,110
- Wrapp’d in a pleasing, deep, and death-like rest.
- But when the morning-star with early ray
- Flamed in the front of Heav’n, and promis’d day,
- Like distant clouds the mariner descries
- Fair Ithaca’s emerging hills arise.
- Far from the town a spacious port appears,
- Sacred to Phorcys’ power, whose name it bears:
- Two craggy rocks, projecting to the main,
- The roaring wind’s tempestuous rage restrain;119
- Within, the waves in softer murmurs glide,
- And ships secure without their halsers ride.
- High at the head a branching olive grows,
- And crowns the pointed cliffs with shady boughs.
- Beneath, a gloomy grotto’s cool recess
- Delights the Nereids of the neighb’ring seas,
- Where bowls and urns were form’d of living stone,
- And massy beams in native marble shone:
- On which the labours of the Nymphs were roll’d,
- Their webs divine of purple mix’d with gold.
- Within the cave the clust’ring bees attend130
- Their waxen works, or from the roof depend.
- Perpetual waters o’er the pavement glide;
- Two marble doors unfold on either side;
- Sacred the south, by which the Gods descend;
- But mortals enter at the northern end.
- Thither they bent, and haul’d their ship to land
- (The crooked keel divides the yellow sand);
- Ulysses sleeping on his couch they bore,
- And gently placed him on the rocky shore.
- His treasures next, Alcinoüs’ gifts, they laid140
- In the wild olive’s unfrequented shade,
- Secure from theft; then launch’d the bark again,
- Resumed their oars, and measured back the main.
- Nor yet forgot old Ocean’s dread Supreme
- The vengeance vow’d for eyeless Polypheme.
- Before the throne of mighty Jove he stood;
- And sought the secret counsels of the God.
- ‘Shall then no more, O Sire of Gods! be mine
- The rights and honours of a power divine?
- Scorn’d ev’n by man, and (oh severe disgrace!)150
- By soft Phæacians, my degen’rate race!
- Against yon destin’d head in vain I swore,
- And menaced vengeance, ere he reach’d his shore;
- To reach his natal shore was thy decree;
- Mild I obey’d, for who shall war with thee?
- Behold him landed, careless and asleep,
- From all th’ eluded dangers of the deep;
- Lo where he lies, amidst a shining store
- Of brass, rich garments, and refulgent ore;
- And bears triumphant to his native isle160
- A prize more worth than Ilion’s noble spoil.’
- To whom the Father of th’ immortal Powers,
- Who swells the clouds, and gladdens earth with showers:
- ‘Can mighty Neptune thus of man complain?
- Neptune, tremendous o’er the boundless main!
- Revered and awful ev’n in Heav’n’s abodes,
- Ancient and great! a God above the Gods!
- If that low race offend thy power divine,
- (Weak, daring creatures!) is not vengeance thine?169
- Go then, the guilty at thy will chastise.’
- He said. The Shaker of the Earth replies:
- ‘This then I doom: to fix the gallant ship
- A mark of vengeance on the sable deep;
- To warn the thoughtless self-confiding train,
- No more unlicens’d thus to brave the main.
- Full in their port a shady hill shall rise,
- If such thy will.’—‘We will it,’ Jove replies.
- ‘Ev’n when with transport, black’ning all the strand,
- The swarming people hail their ship to land,
- Fix her for ever, a memorial stone:180
- Still let her seem to sail, and seem alone.
- The trembling crowds shall see the sudden shade
- Of whelming mountains overhang their head!’
- With that the God whose earthquakes rock the ground
- Fierce to Phæacia cross’d the vast profound.
- Swift as a swallow sweeps the liquid way,
- The winged pinnace shot along the sea.
- The God arrests her with a sudden stroke,
- And roots her down an everlasting rock.
- Aghast the Scherians stand in deep surprise;190
- All press to speak, all question with their eyes.
- ‘What hands unseen the rapid bark restrain?
- And yet it swims, or seems to swim, the main!’
- Thus they, unconscious of the deed divine:
- Till great Alcinoüs, rising, own’d the sign.
- ‘Behold the long-predestin’d day!’ (he cries);
- ‘O certain faith of ancient prophecies!
- These ears have heard my royal sire disclose
- A dreadful story, big with future woes:
- How, mov’d with wrath, that careless we convey200
- Promiscuous ev’ry guest to ev’ry bay,
- Stern Neptune raged; and how by his command
- Firm rooted in the surge a ship should stand
- (A monument of wrath); and mound on mound
- Should hide our walls, or whelm beneath the ground.
- ‘The Fates have follow’d as declared the seer:
- Be humbled, nations! and your Monarch hear.
- No more unlicens’d brave the deeps, no more
- With ev’ry stranger pass from shore to shore:
- On angry Neptune now for mercy call;210
- To his high name let twelve black oxen fall.
- So may the God reverse his purpos’d will,
- Nor o’er our city hang the dreadful hill.’
- The Monarch spoke: they trembled and obey’d,
- Forth on the sands the victim oxen led:
- The gather’d tribes before the altars stand,
- And Chiefs and rulers, a majestic band.
- The King of Ocean all the tribes implore;
- The blazing altars redden all the shore.
- Meanwhile Ulysses in his country lay, }
- Releas’d from sleep, and round him might survey221 }
- The solitary shore and rolling sea. }
- Yet had his mind thro’ tedious absence lost
- The dear resemblance of his native coast;
- Besides, Minerva, to secure her care
- Diffused around a veil of thicken’d air:
- For so the Gods ordain’d, to keep unseen
- His royal person from his friends and Queen:
- Till the proud suitors for their crimes afford229
- An ample vengeance to their injured lord.
- Now all the land another prospect bore,
- Another port appear’d, another shore.
- And long-continued ways, and winding floods,
- And unknown mountains, crown’d with unknown woods.
- Pensive and slow, with sudden grief oppress’d,
- The King arose, and beat his careful breast,
- Cast a long look o’er all the coast and main,
- And sought, around, his native realm in vain:
- Then with erected eyes stood fix’d in woe,
- And, as he spoke, the tears began to flow:
- ‘Ye Gods’ (he cried), ‘upon what barren coast,241
- In what new region, is Ulysses toss’d?
- Possess’d by wild barbarians, fierce in arms?
- Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?
- Where shall this treasure now in safety lie?
- And whither, whither its sad owner fly?
- Ah why did I Alcinoüs’ grace implore?
- Ah why forsake Phæacia’s happy shore?
- Some juster Prince perhaps had entertain’d,
- And safe restor’d me to my native land.250
- Is this the promis’d, long-expected coast,
- And this the faith Phæacia’s rulers boast?
- O righteous Gods! of all the great, how few
- Are just to Heav’n, and to their promise true!
- But he, the Power to whose all-seeing eyes
- The deeds of men appear without disguise,
- ’T is his alone t’ avenge the wrongs I bear:
- For still th’ oppress’d are his peculiar care.
- To count these presents, and from thence to prove
- Their faith, is mine: the rest belongs to Jove.’260
- Then on the sands he ranged his wealthy store,
- The gold, the vests, the tripods number’d o’er:
- All these he found; but still, in error lost,
- Disconsolate he wanders on the coast,
- Sighs for his country, and laments again
- To the deaf rocks, and hoarse resounding main.
- When lo! the guardian Goddess of the Wise,
- Celestial Pallas, stood before his eyes;
- In show a youthful swain, of form divine,
- Who seem’d descended from some princely line.270
- A graceful robe her slender body dress’d;
- Around her shoulders flew the waving vest;
- Her decent hand a shining jav’lin bore,
- And painted sandals on her feet she wore.
- To whom the King: ‘Whoe’er of human race
- Thou art, that wander’st in this desert place,
- With joy to thee, as to some God, I bend,
- To thee my treasures and myself commend.
- O tell a wretch in exile doom’d to stray,
- What air I breathe, what country I survey?280
- The fruitful continent’s extremest bound,
- Or some fair isle which Neptune’s arms surround?’
- ‘From what far clime’ (said she), ‘remote from Fame,
- Arrivest thou here, a stranger to our name?
- Thou seest an island, not to those unknown
- Whose hills are brighten’d by the rising sun,
- Nor those that placed beneath his utmost reign
- Behold him sinking in the western main.
- The rugged soil allows no level space
- For flying chariots, or the rapid race;290
- Yet, not ungrateful to the peasant’s pain,
- Suffices fulness to the swelling grain:
- The loaded trees their various fruits produce,
- And clust’ring grapes afford a gen’rous juice;
- Woods crown our mountains, and in ev’ry grove
- The bounding goats and frisking heifers rove:
- Soft rains and kindly dews refresh the field,
- And rising springs eternal verdure yield:
- Ev’n to those shores is Ithaca renown’d,
- Where Troy’s majestic ruins strew the ground.’300
- At this, the Chief with transport was possess’d;
- His panting heart exulted in his breast:
- Yet, well dissembling his untimely joys,
- And veiling truth in plausible disguise,
- Thus, with an air sincere, in fiction bold,
- His ready tale th’ inventive hero told:
- ‘Oft have I heard in Crete this island’s name;
- For ’t was from Crete, my native soil, I came,
- Self-banish’d thence. I sail’d before the wind,
- And left my children and my friends behind.310
- From fierce Idomeneus’ revenge I flew,
- Whose son, the swift Orsilochus, I slew
- (With brutal force he seiz’d my Trojan prey,
- Due to the toils of many a bloody day).
- Unseen I ’scaped, and, favour’d by the night,
- In a Phœnician vessel took my flight,
- For Pyle or Elis bound: but tempests toss’d
- And raging billows drove us on your coast.
- In dead of night an unknown port we gain’d,
- Spent with fatigue, and slept secure on land.320
- But ere the rosy morn renew’d the day,
- While in th’ embrace of pleasing sleep I lay,
- Sudden, invited by auspicious gales,
- They land my goods, and hoist their flying sails.
- Abandon’d here, my fortune I deplore,
- A hapless exile on a foreign shore.’
- Thus while he spoke, the Blue-eyed Maid began
- With pleasing smiles to view the godlike man:
- Then changed her form: and now, divinely bright,
- Jove’s heav’nly daughter stood confess’d to sight:330
- Like a fair virgin in her beauty’s bloom,
- Skill’d in th’ illustrious labours of the loom.
- ‘O still the same Ulysses!’ (she rejoin’d) }
- ‘In useful craft successfully refin’d! }
- Artful in speech, in action, and in mind! }
- Sufficed it not, that, thy long labours pass’d,
- Secure thou seest thy native shores at last?
- But this to me? who, like thyself, excel
- In arts of counsel, and dissembling well;
- To me? whose wit exceeds the Powers divine,340
- No less than mortals are surpass’d by thine.
- Know’st thou not me? who made thy life my care,
- Thro’ ten years’ wand’ring, and thro’ ten years’ war,
- Who taught thee arts, Alcinoüs to persuade,
- To raise his wonder, and engage his aid;
- And now appear, thy treasures to protect, }
- Conceal thy person, thy designs direct, }
- And tell what more thou must from Fate expect; }
- Domestic woes far heavier to be borne!
- The pride of fools, and slaves’ insulting scorn!350
- But thou be silent, nor reveal thy state;
- Yield to the force of unresisted Fate,
- And bear unmov’d the wrongs of base mankind,
- The last, and hardest, conquest of the mind.’
- ‘Goddess of Wisdom!’ (Ithacus replies) }
- ‘He who discerns thee must be truly wise, }
- So seldom view’d, and ever in disguise! }
- When the bold Argives led their warring powers
- Against proud Ilion’s well-defended towers,
- Ulysses was thy care, celestial Maid!360
- Graced with thy sight, and favour’d with thy aid.
- But when the Trojan piles in ashes lay,
- And bound for Greece we plough’d the wat’ry way,
- Our fleet dispers’d and driven from coast to coast,
- Thy sacred presence from that hour I lost;
- Till I beheld thy radiant form once more,
- And heard thy counsels on Phæacia’s shore.
- But, by th’ Almighty Author of thy race,
- Tell me, oh tell, is this my native place?
- For much I fear, long tracts of land and sea370
- Divide this coast from distant Ithaca;
- The sweet delusion kindly you impose,
- To soothe my hopes, and mitigate my woes.’
- Thus he. The Blue-eyed Goddess thus replies:
- ‘How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise!
- Who, vers’d in fortune, fear the flatt’ring show,
- And taste not half the bliss the Gods bestow.
- The more shall Pallas aid thy just desires,
- And guard the wisdom which herself inspires.
- Others, long absent from their native place,380 }
- Straight seek their home, and fly with eager pace }
- To their wives’ arms, and children’s dear embrace. }
- Not thus Ulysses: he decrees to prove
- His subjects’ faith, and Queen’s suspected love;
- Who mourn’d her lord twice ten revolving years,
- And wastes the days in grief, the nights in tears.
- But Pallas knew (thy friends and navy lost)
- Once more ’t was given thee to behold thy coast:
- Yet how could I with adverse Fate engage,
- And mighty Neptune’s unrelenting rage?390
- Now lift thy longing eyes, while I restore
- The pleasing prospect of thy native shore.
- Behold the port of Phorcys! fenc’d around
- With rocky mountains, and with olives crown’d.
- Behold the gloomy grot! whose cool recess
- Delights the Nereids of the neighb’ring seas:
- Whose now neglected altars, in thy reign,
- Blush’d with the blood of sheep and oxen slain.
- Behold! where Neritus the clouds divides,
- And shakes the waving forests on his sides.’400
- So spake the Goddess, and the prospect clear’d;
- The mists dispers’d, and all the coast appear’d.
- The King with joy confess’d his place of birth,
- And on his knees salutes his Mother Earth:
- Then, with his suppliant hands upheld in air,
- Thus to the sea-green Sisters sends his prayer:
- ‘All hail! ye virgin Daughters of the Main!
- Ye streams, beyond my hopes beheld again!
- To you once more your own Ulysses bows;
- Attend his transports, and receive his vows!410
- If Jove prolong my days, and Pallas crown
- The growing virtues of my youthful son,
- To you shall rites divine be ever paid,
- And grateful off’rings on your altars laid.’
- Thus then Minerva: ‘From that anxious breast
- Dismiss those cares, and leave to Heav’n the rest.
- Our task be now thy treasured stores to save,
- Deep in the close recesses of the cave:
- Then future means consult.’ She spoke, and trod
- The shady grot, that brighten’d with the God.420
- The closest caverns of the grot she sought;
- The gold, the brass, the robes, Ulysses brought;
- These in the secret gloom the Chief disposed;
- The entrance with a rock the Goddess closed.
- Now, seated in the olive’s sacred shade,
- Confer the Hero and the Martial Maid.
- The Goddess of the Azure Eyes began:
- ‘Son of Laërtes! much-experienc’d man!
- The suitor-train thy earliest care demand,
- Of that luxurious race to rid the land:430
- Three years thy house their lawless rule has seen,
- And proud addresses to the matchless Queen.
- But she thy absence mourns from day to day,
- And inly bleeds, and silent wastes away:
- Elusive of the bridal hour, she gives
- Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives.’
- To this Ulysses: ‘O celestial Maid!
- Prais’d be thy counsel, and thy timely aid:
- Else had I seen my native walls in vain,
- Like great Atrides, just restor’d and slain.
- Vouchsafe the means of vengeance to debate,441
- And plan with all thy arts the scene of fate.
- Then, then be present, and my soul inspire,
- As when we wrapp’d Troy’s Heav’n-built walls in fire.
- Though leagued against me hundred heroes stand,
- Hundreds shall fall, if Pallas aid my hand.’
- She answer’d: ‘In the dreadful day of fight
- Know I am with thee, strong in all my might.
- If thou but equal to thyself be found,
- What gasping numbers then shall press the ground!450
- What human victims stain the feastful floor!
- How wide the pavements float with guilty gore!
- It fits thee now to wear a dark disguise,
- And secret walk unknown to mortal eyes.
- For this, my hand shall wither ev’ry grace,
- And ev’ry elegance of form and face;
- O’er thy smooth skin a bark of wrinkles spread,
- Turn hoar the auburn honours of thy head;
- Disfigure every limb with coarse attire,
- And in thy eyes extinguish all the fire;460
- Add all the wants and the decays of life;
- Estrange thee from thy own; thy son, thy wife:
- From the loathed object ev’ry eye shall turn,
- And the blind suitors their destruction scorn.
- ‘Go first the master of thy herds to find,
- True to his charge, a loyal swain and kind:
- For thee he sighs; and to the royal heir
- And chaste Penelope extends his care.
- At the Coracian rock he now resides,
- Where Arethusa’s sable water glides;470
- The sable water and the copious mast
- Swell the fat herd; luxuriant, large repast!
- With him rest peaceful in the rural cell,
- And all you ask his faithful tongue shall tell.
- Me into other realms my cares convey,
- To Sparta, still with female beauty gay:
- For know, to Sparta thy lov’d offspring came,
- To learn thy fortunes from the voice of Fame.’
- At this the father, with a father’s care: }
- ‘Must he too suffer? he, O Goddess! bear }
- Of wand’rings and of woes a wretched share?481 }
- Thro’ the wild ocean plough the dangerous way,
- And leave his fortunes and his house a prey?
- Why would’st not thou, O all-enlighten’d Mind!
- Inform him certain, and protect him, kind?’
- To whom Minerva: ‘Be thy soul at rest:
- And know, whatever Heav’n ordains is best.
- To fame I sent him, to acquire renown;
- To other regions is his virtue known:
- Secure he sits, near great Atrides placed:490
- With friendships strengthen’d, and with honours graced.
- But lo! an ambush waits his passage o’er;
- Fierce foes insidious intercept the shore:
- In vain; far sooner all the murd’rous brood
- This injured land shall fatten with their blood.’
- She spake, then touch’d him with her powerful wand:
- The skin shrunk up, and wither’d at her hand:
- A swift old age o’er all his members spread;
- A sudden frost was sprinkled on his head;
- Nor longer in the heavy eye-ball shined500
- The glance divine, forth-beaming from the mind.
- His robe, which spots indelible besmear,
- In rags dishonest flutters with the air:
- A stag’s torn hide is lapp’d around his reins;
- A rugged staff his trembling hand sustains;
- And at his side a wretched scrip was hung,
- Wide-patch’d, and knotted to a twisted thong.
- So look’d the chief, so mov’d; to mortal eyes
- Object uncouth! a man of miseries!
- While Pallas, cleaving the wide fields of air,510
- To Sparta flies, Telemachus her care.

BOOK XIV

THE CONVERSATION WITH EUMÆUS

THE ARGUMENT

Ulysses arrives in disguise at the house of Eumæus, where he is received, entertained, and lodged with the utmost hospitality. The several discourses of that faithful old servant, with the feigned story told by Ulysses to conceal himself, and other conversations on various subjects, take up this entire book.

- But he, deep-musing, o’er the mountains stray’d
- Thro’ mazy thickets of the woodland shade,
- And cavern’d ways, the shaggy coast along,
- With cliffs and nodding forests overhung.
- Eumæus at his sylvan lodge he sought,
- A faithful servant, and without a fault.
- Ulysses found him busied, as he sate
- Before the threshold of his rustic gate:
- Around, the mansion in a circle shone,
- A rural portico of rugged stone10
- (In absence of his lord, with honest toil
- His own industrious hands had rais’d the pile);
- The wall was stone from neighb’ring quarries borne,
- Encircled with a fence of native thorn,
- And strong with pales, by many a weary stroke
- Of stubborn labour hewn from heart of oak;
- Frequent and thick. Within the space were rear’d
- Twelve ample cells, the lodgments of his herd.
- Full fifty pregnant females each contain’d:
- The males without (a smaller race) remain’d;20
- Doom’d to supply the suitors’ wasteful feast,
- A stock by daily luxury decreas’d;
- Now scarce four hundred left. These to defend,
- Four savage dogs, a watchful guard, attend.
- Here sat Eumæus, and his cares applied
- To form strong buskins of well-season’d hide.
- Of four assistants who his labour share,
- Three now were absent on the rural care:
- The fourth drove victims to the suitor train:
- But he, of ancient faith, a simple swain,30
- Sigh’d, while he furnish’d the luxurious board,
- And wearied Heav’n with wishes for his lord.
- Soon as Ulysses near th’ inclosure drew,
- With open mouths the furious mastiffs flew:
- Down sate the sage, and, cautious to withstand,
- Let fall th’ offensive truncheon from his hand.
- Sudden, the master runs: aloud he calls;
- And from his hasty hand the leather falls;
- With showers of stones he drives them far away;
- The scatt’ring dogs around at distance bay.40
- ‘Unhappy stranger’ (thus the faithful swain
- Began with accent gracious and humane),
- ‘What sorrow had been mine, if at my gate
- Thy rev’rend age had met a shameful fate!
- Enough of woes already have I known:
- Enough my master’s sorrows and my own.
- While here (ungrateful task!) his herds I feed,
- Ordain’d for lawless rioters to bleed!
- Perhaps, supported at another’s board,
- Far from his country roams my hapless lord!50
- Or sigh’d in exile forth his latest breath,
- Now cover’d with th’ eternal shade of death!
- ‘But enter this my homely roof, and see
- Our woods not void of hospitality.
- Then tell me whence thou art, and what the share
- Of woes and wand’rings thou wert born to bear.’
- He said, and, seconding the kind request,
- With friendly step precedes his unknown guest.
- A shaggy goat’s soft hide beneath him spread,
- And with fresh rushes heap’d an ample bed:60
- Joy touch’d the Hero’s tender soul, to find
- So just reception from a heart so kind;
- And ‘Oh, ye Gods! with all your blessings grace’
- (He thus broke forth) ‘this friend of human race!’
- The swain replied: ‘It never was our guise
- To slight the poor, or aught humane despise:
- For Jove unfolds our hospitable door,
- ’T is Jove that sends the stranger and the poor.
- Little, alas! is all the good I can;
- A man oppress’d, dependent, yet a man:70
- Accept such treatment as a swain affords,
- Slave to the insolence of youthful lords!
- Far hence is by unequal Gods remov’d
- That man of bounties, loving and belov’d!
- To whom whate’er his slave enjoys is ow’d,
- And more, had Fate allow’d, had been bestow’d.
- But Fate comdemn’d him to a foreign shore;
- Much have I sorrow’d, but my master more.
- Now cold he lies, to Death’s embrace resign’d:
- Ah, perish Helen! perish all her kind!80
- For whose curs’d cause, in Agamemnon’s name,
- He trod so fatally the paths of Fame.’
- His vest succinct then girding round his waist,
- Forth rush’d the swain with hospitable haste;
- Straight to the lodgments of his herd he run,
- Where the fat porkers slept beneath the sun;
- Of two, his cutlass launch’d the spouting blood;
- These, quarter’d, singed, and fix’d on forks of wood,
- All hasty on the hissing coals he threw;
- And, smoking, back the tasteful viands drew,90
- Broachers and all; then on the board display’d
- The ready meal, before Ulysses laid
- With flour imbrown’d; next mingled wine yet new,
- And luscious as the bees’ nectareous dew:
- Then sate, companion of the friendly feast,
- With open look; and thus bespoke his guest:
- ‘Take with free welcome what our hands prepare,
- Such food as falls to simple servants’ share;
- The best our lords consume; those thoughtless peers,99
- Rich without bounty, guilty without fears.
- Yet sure the Gods their impious acts detest,
- And honour justice and the righteous breast.
- Pirates and conquerors of harden’d mind,
- The foes of peace, and scourges of mankind,
- To whom offending men are made a prey
- When Jove in vengeance gives a land away;
- Ev’n these, when of their ill-got spoils possess’d,
- Find sure tormentors in the guilty breast:
- Some voice of God close whisp’ring from within,109
- “Wretch! this is villany, and this is sin.”
- But these, no doubt, some oracle explore,
- That tells, the great Ulysses is no more.
- Hence springs their confidence, and from our sighs
- Their rapine strengthens, and their riots rise:
- Constant as Jove the night and day bestows,
- Bleeds a whole hecatomb, a vintage flows.
- None match’d this hero’s wealth, of all who reign
- O’er the fair islands of the neighb’ring main.
- Nor all the Monarchs whose far-dreaded sway
- The wide-extended continents obey:120
- First, on the mainland, of Ulysses’ breed
- Twelve herds, twelve flocks, on ocean’s margin feed;
- As many stalls for shaggy goats are rear’d;
- As many lodgments for the tusky herd;
- Those, foreign keepers guard: and here are seen
- Twelve herds of goats that graze our utmost green;
- To native pastors is their charge assign’d,
- And mine the care to feed the bristly kind:
- Each day the fattest bleeds of either herd,
- All to the suitors’ wasteful board preferr’d.’130
- Thus he, benevolent: his unknown guest }
- With hunger keen devours the sav’ry feast; }
- While schemes of vengeance ripen in his breast. }
- Silent and thoughtful while the board he eyed,
- Eumæus pours on high the purple tide;
- The King with smiling looks his joy express’d,
- And thus the kind inviting host address’d:
- ‘Say, now, what man is he, the man deplor’d,
- So rich, so potent, whom you style your lord?
- Late with such affluence and possessions bless’d,140
- And now in honour’s glorious bed at rest.
- Whoever was the warrior, he must be
- To Fame no stranger, nor perhaps to me;
- Who (so the Gods and so the Fates ordain’d)
- Have wander’d many a sea and many a land.’
- ‘Small is the faith the Prince and Queen ascribe’
- (Replied Eumæus) ‘to the wand’ring tribe.
- For needy strangers still to flatt’ry fly,
- And want too oft betrays the tongue to lie.149
- Each vagrant traveller, that touches here,
- Deludes with fallacies the royal ear,
- To dear remembrance makes his image rise,
- And calls the springing sorrows from her eyes.
- Such thou may’st be. But he whose name you crave
- Moulders in earth, or welters on the wave,
- Or food for fish or dogs his relics lie,
- Or torn by birds are scatter’d thro’ the sky.
- So perish’d he: and left (for ever lost)
- Much woe to all, but sure to me the most.
- So mild a master never shall I find;160 }
- Less dear the parents whom I left behind, }
- Less soft my mother, less my father kind. }
- Not with such transport would my eyes run o’er,
- Again to hail them in their native shore,
- As lov’d Ulysses once more to embrace,
- Restor’d and breathing in his natal place.
- That name for ever dread, yet ever dear,
- Ev’n in his absence I pronounce with fear:
- In my respect, he bears a Prince’s part;
- But lives a very brother in my heart.’170
- Thus spoke the faithful swain, and thus rejoin’d
- The master of his grief, the man of patient mind:
- ‘Ulysses’ friend shall view his old abodes
- (Distrustful as thou art), nor doubt the Gods.
- Nor speak I rashly, but with faith averr’d,
- And what I speak attesting Heav’n has heard.
- If so, a cloak and vesture be my meed; }
- Till his return, no title shall I plead, }
- Tho’ certain be my news, and great my need; }
- Whom want itself can force untruths to tell,180
- My soul detests him as the gates of Hell.
- ‘Thou first be witness, hospitable Jove!
- And ev’ry God inspiring social love!
- And witness ev’ry household Power that waits,
- Guard of these fires, and angel of these gates!
- Ere the next moon increase, or this decay,
- His ancient realms Ulysses shall survey,
- In blood and dust each proud oppressor mourn,
- And the lost glories of his house return.’
- ‘Nor shall that meed be thine, nor evermore190
- Shall lov’d Ulysses hail this happy shore’
- (Replied Eumæus): ‘to the present hour
- Now turn thy thought, and joys within our power.
- From sad reflection let my soul repose;
- The name of him awakes a thousand woes.
- But guard him, Gods! and to these arms restore!
- Not his true consort can desire him more;
- Not old Laërtes, broken with despair;
- Not young Telemachus, his blooming heir.
- Alas, Telemachus! my sorrows flow200
- Afresh for thee, my second cause of woe!
- Like some fair plant set by a heav’nly hand,
- He grew, he flourish’d, and he bless’d the land;
- In all the youth his father’s image shined,
- Bright in his person, brighter in his mind.
- What man, or God, deceiv’d his better sense,
- Far on the swelling seas to wander hence?
- To distant Pylos hapless is he gone,
- To seek his father’s fate, and find his own!
- For traitors wait his way, with dire design210
- To end at once the great Arcesian line.
- But let us leave him to their wills above;
- The fates of men are in the hand of Jove.
- And now, my venerable Guest! declare
- Your name, your parents, and your native air:
- Sincere from whence begun your course relate,
- And to what ship I owe the friendly freight?’
- Thus he: and thus (with prompt invention bold)
- The cautious Chief his ready story told:
- ‘On dark reserve what better can prevail,220
- Or from the fluent tongue produce the tale,
- Than when two friends, alone, in peaceful place }
- Confer, and wines and cates the table grace; }
- But most, the kind inviter’s cheerful face? }
- Thus might we sit, with social goblets crown’d,
- Till the whole circle of the year goes round;
- Not the whole circle of the year would close
- My long narration of a life of woes.
- But such was Heav’n’s high will! Know then, I came
- From sacred Crete, and from a sire of fame:230
- Castor Hylacides (that name he bore), }
- Belov’d and honour’d in his native shore; }
- Bless’d in his riches, in his children more. }
- Sprung of a handmaid, from a bought embrace,
- I shared his kindness with his lawful race:
- But when that Fate, which all must undergo,
- From earth remov’d him to the shades below,
- The large domain his greedy sons divide,
- And each was portion’d as the lots decide.
- Little, alas! was left my wretched share,240
- Except a house, a covert from the air:
- But what by niggard Fortune was denied,
- A willing widow’s copious wealth supplied.
- My valour was my plea, a gallant mind }
- That, true to honour, never lagg’d behind }
- (The sex is ever to a soldier kind). }
- Now wasting years my former strength confound,
- And added woes have bow’d me to the ground;
- Yet by the stubble you may guess the grain,
- And mark the ruins of no vulgar man.250
- Me Pallas gave to lead the martial storm,
- And the fair ranks of battle to deform;
- Me Mars inspired to turn the foe to flight,
- And tempt the secret ambush of the night.
- Let ghastly Death in all his forms appear,
- I saw him not, it was not mine to fear.
- Before the rest I rais’d my ready steel;
- The first I met, he yielded, or he fell.
- But works of peace my soul disdain’d to bear,
- The rural labour, or domestic care.260
- To raise the mast, the missile dart to wing,
- And send swift arrows from the bounding string,
- Were arts the Gods made grateful to my mind; }
- Those Gods, who turn (to various ends design’d) }
- The various thoughts and talents of mankind. }
- Before the Grecians touch’d the Trojan plain,
- Nine times commander or by land or main,
- In foreign fields I spread my glory far,
- Great in the praise, rich in the spoils of war:
- Thence, charged with riches, as increas’d in fame,270
- To Crete return’d, an honourable name.
- But when great Jove that direful war decreed,
- Which rous’d all Greece, and made the mighty bleed;
- Our states myself and Idomen employ
- To lead their fleets, and carry death to Troy.
- Nine years we warr’d; the tenth saw Ilion fall;
- Homeward we sail’d, but Heav’n dispers’d us all.
- One only month my wife enjoy’d my stay;
- So will’d the God who gives and takes away.
- Nine ships I mann’d, equipp’d with ready stores,280
- Intent to voyage to th’ Ægyptian shores;
- In feast and sacrifice my chosen train
- Six days consumed; the sev’nth we plough’d the main.
- Crete’s ample fields diminish to our eye;
- Before the Boreal blast the vessels fly;
- Safe thro’ the level seas we sweep our way;
- The steersman governs, and the ships obey.
- The fifth fair morn we stem th’ Ægyptian tide,
- And tilting o’er the bay the vessels ride:
- To anchor there my fellows I command,290
- And spies commission to explore the land.
- But, sway’d by lust of gain, and headlong will,
- The coasts they ravage, and the natives kill.
- The spreading clamour to their city flies,
- And horse and foot in mingled tumult rise.
- The redd’ning dawn reveals the circling fields,
- Horrid with bristly spears, and glancing shields.
- Jove thunder’d on their side. Our guilty head }
- We turn’d to flight; the gath’ring vengeance spread }
- On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lie dead.300 }
- I then explor’d my thought, what course to prove
- (And sure the thought was dictated by Jove);
- Oh, had he left me to that happier doom,
- And saved a life of miseries to come!
- The radiant helmet from my brows unlaced,
- And low on earth my shield and jav’lin cast,
- I meet the Monarch with a suppliant’s face,
- Approach his chariot, and his knees embrace.
- He heard, he saved, he placed me at his side;
- My state he pitied, and my tears he dried,310
- Restrain’d the rage the vengeful foe express’d,
- And turn’d the deadly weapons from my breast.
- Pious! to guard the hospitable rite,
- And fearing Jove, whom mercy’s works delight.
- ‘In Ægypt thus with peace and plenty bless’d,
- I liv’d (and happy still had liv’d) a guest.
- On sev’n bright years successive blessings wait;
- The next changed all the colour of my fate.
- A false Phœnician, of insidious mind,319
- Vers’d in vile arts, and foe to humankind,
- With semblance fair invites me to his home.
- I seiz’d the proffer (ever fond to roam):
- Domestic in his faithless roof I stay’d,
- Till the swift sun his annual circle made.
- To Libya then he meditates the way;
- With guileful art a stranger to betray,
- And sell to bondage in a foreign land:
- Much doubting, yet compell’d, I quit the strand.
- Thro’ the mid seas the nimble pinnace sails,
- Aloof from Crete, before the northern gales:330
- But when remote her chalky cliffs we lost,
- And far from ken of any other coast,
- When all was wild expanse of sea and air,
- Then doom’d high Jove due vengeance to prepare.
- He hung a night of horrors o’er their head
- (The shaded ocean blacken’d as it spread);
- He launch’d the fiery bolt; from pole to pole
- Broad burst the lightnings, deep the thunders roll;
- In giddy rounds the whirling ship is toss’d,
- And all in clouds of smoth’ring sulphur lost.340
- As from a hanging rock’s tremendous height,
- The sable crows with intercepted flight
- Drop endlong; scarr’d and black with sulphurous hue,
- So from the deck are hurl’d the ghastly crew.
- Such end the wicked found! but Jove’s intent
- Was yet to save th’ oppress’d and innocent.
- Placed on the mast (the last resource of life),
- With winds and waves I held unequal strife;
- For nine long days the billows tilting o’er,
- The tenth soft wafts me to Thesprotia’s shore.350
- The Monarch’s son a shipwreck’d wretch reliev’d,
- The Sire with hospitable rites receiv’d,
- And in his palace like a brother placed,
- With gifts of price and gorgeous garments graced.
- While here I sojourn’d, oft I heard the fame
- How late Ulysses to the country came,
- How lov’d, how honour’d, in this court he stay’d,
- And here his whole collected treasure laid;
- I saw myself the vast unnumber’d store
- Of steel elab’rate, and refulgent ore,360
- And brass high heap’d amidst the regal dome;
- Immense supplies for ages yet to come!
- Meantime he voyaged to explore the will
- Of Jove, on high Dodona’s holy hill,
- What means might best his safe return avail,
- To come in pomp, or bear a secret sail?
- Full oft has Phidon, whilst he pour’d the wine,
- Attesting solemn all the Powers divine,
- That soon Ulysses would return, declared,
- The sailors waiting, and the ships prepared.370
- But first the King dismiss’d me from his shores,
- For fair Dulichium crown’d with fruitful stores;
- To good Acastus’ friendly care consign’d:
- But other counsels pleas’d the sailors’ mind:
- New frauds were plotted by the faithless train,
- And misery demands me once again.
- Soon as remote from shore they plough the wave,
- With ready hands they rush to seize their slave;
- Then with these tatter’d rags they wrapp’d me round
- (Stripp’d of my own), and to the vessel bound.380
- At eve, at Ithaca’s delightful land
- The ship arrived: forth issuing on the sand,
- They sought repast: while, to th’ unhappy kind,
- The pitying Gods themselves my chains unbind.
- Soft I descended, to the sea applied
- My naked breast, and shot along the tide.
- Soon pass’d beyond their sight, I left the flood,
- And took the spreading shelter of the wood.
- Their prize escaped the faithless pirates mourn’d;
- But deem’d inquiry vain, and to their ships return’d.390
- Screen’d by protecting Gods from hostile eyes,
- They led me to a good man and a wise,
- To live beneath thy hospitable care,
- And wait the woes Heav’n dooms me yet to bear.’
- ‘Unhappy Guest! whose sorrows touch my mind’
- (Thus good Eumæus with a sigh rejoin’d),
- ‘For real suff’rings since I grieve sincere,
- Check not with fallacies the springing tear:
- Nor turn the passion into groundless joy
- For him whom Heav’n has destin’d to destroy.400
- Oh! had he perish’d on some well-fought day,
- Or in his friends’ embraces died away!
- That grateful Greece with streaming eyes might raise
- Historic marbles to record his praise;
- His praise, eternal on the faithful stone,
- Had with transmissive honours graced his son.
- Now, snatch’d by Harpies to the dreary coast,
- Sunk is the hero, and his glory lost!
- While pensive in this solitary den,409
- Far from gay cities and the ways of men,
- I linger life; nor to the Court repair,
- But when my constant Queen commands my care;
- Or when, to taste her hospitable board,
- Some guest arrives, with rumours of her lord;
- And these indulge their want, and those their woe,
- And here the tears, and there the goblets flow.
- By many such have I been warn’d; but chief
- By one Ætolian robb’d of all belief,
- Whose hap it was to this our roof to roam,
- For murder banish’d from his native home.
- He swore, Ulysses on the coast of Crete421
- Stay’d but a season to refit his fleet;
- A few revolving months should waft him o’er,
- Fraught with bold warriors, and a boundless store.
- O thou! whom age has taught to understand,
- And Heav’n has guided with a fav’ring hand!
- On God or mortal to obtrude a lie
- Forbear, and dread to flatter, as to die.
- Not for such ends my house and heart are free,
- But dear respect to Jove, and charity.’430
- ‘And why, O swain of unbelieving mind!’
- (Thus quick replied the wisest of mankind),
- ‘Doubt you my oath? yet more my faith to try, }
- A solemn compact let us ratify, }
- And witness ev’ry Power that rules the sky! }
- If here Ulysses from his labours rest,
- Be then my prize a tunic and a vest;
- And, where my hopes invite me, straight transport
- In safety to Dulichium’s friendly court.
- But if he greets not thy desiring eye,440 }
- Hurl me from yon dread precipice on high; }
- The due reward of fraud and perjury.’ }
- ‘Doubtless, O Guest! great laud and praise were mine’
- (Replied the swain), ‘for spotless faith divine,
- If, after social rites and gifts bestow’d,
- I stain’d my hospitable hearth with blood.
- How would the Gods my righteous toils succeed,
- And bless the hand that made a stranger bleed?
- No more—th’ approaching hours of silent night
- First claim refection, then to rest invite;450
- Beneath our humble cottage let us haste,
- And here, unenvied, rural dainties taste.’
- Thus communed these; while to their lowly dome
- The full-fed swine return’d with ev’ning home:
- Compell’d, reluctant, to their sev’ral sties,
- With din obstrep’rous, and ungrateful cries.
- Then to the slaves: ‘Now from the herd the best
- Select, in honour of our foreign guest:
- With him let us the genial banquet share,
- For great and many are the griefs we bear;
- While those who from our labours heap their board461
- Blaspheme their feeder, and forget their lord.’
- Thus speaking, with despatchful hand he took
- A weighty axe, and cleft the solid oak;
- This on the earth he piled; a boar full fed,
- Of five years’ age, before the pile was led:
- The swain, whom acts of piety delight,
- Observant of the Gods, begins the rite;
- First shears the forehead of the bristly boar, }
- And suppliant stands, invoking ev’ry Power470 }
- To speed Ulysses to his native shore. }
- A knotty stake then aiming at his head,
- Down dropp’d he groaning, and the spirit fled.
- The scorching flames climb round on ev’ry side:
- Then the singed members they with skill divide;
- On these, in rolls of fat involv’d with art,
- The choicest morsels lay from ev’ry part.
- Some in the flames bestrew’d with flour they threw;
- Some cut in fragments from the forks they drew:479
- These, while on sev’ral tables they dispose,
- A priest himself, the blameless rustic rose;
- Expert the destin’d victim to dispart
- In sev’n just portions, pure of hand and heart.
- One sacred to the Nymphs apart they lay;
- Another to the winged son of May:
- The rural tribe in common share the rest,
- The King, the chine, the honour of the feast;
- Who sate delighted at his servant’s board;
- The faithful servant joy’d his unknown lord.489
- ‘O be thou dear’ (Ulysses cried) ‘to Jove,
- As well thou claim’st a grateful stranger’s love!’
- ‘Be then thy thanks’ (the bounteous swain replied)
- ‘Enjoyment of the good the Gods provide.
- From God’s own hand descend our joys and woes;
- These he decrees, and he but suffers those:
- All power is his, and whatsoe’er he wills,
- The will itself, omnipotent, fulfils.’
- This said, the first-fruits to the Gods he gave;
- Then pour’d of offer’d wine the sable wave:
- In great Ulysses’ hand he placed the bowl;
- He sate, and sweet refection cheer’d his soul.501
- The bread from canisters Mesaulius gave
- (Eumæus’ proper treasure bought this slave,
- And led from Taphos, to attend his board,
- A servant added to his absent lord);
- His task it was the wheaten loaves to lay,
- And from the banquet take the bowls away.
- And now the rage of hunger was repress’d,
- And each betakes him to his couch to rest.
- Now came the night, and darkness cover’d o’er510
- The face of things; the winds began to roar;
- The driving storm the wat’ry west-wind pours,
- And Jove descends in deluges of showers.
- Studious of rest and warmth, Ulysses lies,
- Foreseeing from the first the storm would rise;
- In mere necessity of coat and cloak,
- With artful preface to his host he spoke:
- ‘Hear me, my friends, who this good banquet grace;
- ’T is sweet to play the fool in time and place,
- And wine can of their wits the wise beguile,520
- Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile,
- The grave in merry measures frisk about,
- And many a long repented word bring out.
- Since to be talkative I now commence,
- Let Wit cast off the sullen yoke of Sense.
- Once I was strong (would Heav’n restore those days!)
- And with my betters claim’d a share of praise.
- Ulysses, Menelaüs, led forth a band,
- And join’d me with them (’t was their own command);
- A deathful ambush for the foe to lay,530
- Beneath Troy walls by night we took our way;
- There, clad in arms, along the marshes spread,
- We made the ozier-fringed bank our bed.
- Full soon th’ inclemency of Heav’n I feel,
- Nor had these shoulders cov’ring, but of steel.
- Sharp blew the north; snow whitening all the fields
- Froze with the blast, and, gath’ring, glazed our shields.
- There all but I, well-fenc’d with cloak and vest,538
- Lay cover’d by their ample shields at rest.
- Fool that I was! I left behind my own, }
- The skill of weather and of winds unknown, }
- And trusted to my coat and shield alone! }
- When now was wasted more than half the night,
- And the stars faded at approaching light,
- Sudden I jogg’d Ulysses, who was laid
- Fast by my side, and shiv’ring thus I said:
- ‘ “Here longer in this field I cannot lie;
- The winter pinches, and with cold I die;
- And die ashamed (O wisest of mankind!),
- The only fool who left his cloak behind.”550
- ‘He thought and answer’d; hardly waking yet,
- Sprung in his mind the momentary wit
- (That wit which, or in council or in fight,
- Still met th’ emergence, and determin’d right).
- “Hush thee” (he cried, soft whisp’ring in my ear),
- “Speak not a word, lest any Greek may hear”—
- And then (supporting on his arm his head),
- “Hear me, Companions!” (thus aloud he said):
- “Methinks too distant from the fleet we lie: }
- Ev’n now a vision stood before my eye,560 }
- And sure the warning vision was from high: }
- Let from among us some swift courier rise,
- Haste to the Gen’ral, and demand supplies.”
- ‘Up started Thoas straight, Andræmon’s son,
- Nimbly he rose, and cast his garment down;
- Instant, the racer vanish’d off the ground;
- That instant in his cloak I wrapp’d me round;
- And safe I slept, till, brightly dawning, shone
- The Morn conspicuous on her golden throne.
- ‘Oh were my strength as then, as then my age!570
- Some friend would fence me from the winter’s rage.
- Yet, tatter’d as I look, I challenged then
- The honours and the offices of men:
- Some master, or some servant would allow
- A cloak and vest—but I am nothing now!’
- ‘Well hast thou spoke’ (rejoin’d th’ attentive swain);
- ‘Thy lips let fall no idle word or vain!
- Nor garment shall thou want, nor aught beside,
- Meet for the wand’ring suppliant to provide.579
- But in the morning take thy clothes again,
- For here one vest suffices ev’ry swain;
- No change of garments to our hinds is known;
- But when return’d, the good Ulysses’ son
- With better hand shall grace with fit attires
- His guest, and send thee where thy soul desires.’
- The honest herdsman rose, as this he said,
- And drew before the hearth the stranger’s bed;
- The fleecy spoils of sheep, a goat’s rough hide
- He spreads: and adds a mantle thick and wide:589
- With store to heap above him, and below,
- And guard each quarter as the tempests blow.
- There lay the King, and all the rest supine;
- All, but the careful master of the swine:
- Forth hasted he to tend his bristly care;
- Well arm’d, and fenc’d against nocturnal air:
- His weighty faulchion o’er his shoulder tied;
- His shaggy cloak a mountain goat supplied:
- With his broad spear, the dread of dogs and men,
- He seeks his lodging in the rocky den.599
- There to the tusky herd he bends his way,
- Where, screen’d from Boreas, high o’erarch’d they lay.

BOOK XV

THE RETURN OF TELEMACHUS

ARGUMENT

The Goddess Minerva commands Telemachus in a vision to return to Ithaca. Pisistratus and he take leave of Menelaüs, and arrive at Pylos, where they part; Telemachus sets sail, after having received on board Theoclymenus the soothsayer. The scene then changes to the cottage of Eumæus, who entertains Ulysses with a recital of his adventures. In the meantime Telemachus arrives on the coast, and, sending the vessel to the town, proceeds by himself to the lodge of Eumæus.

- Now had Minerva reach’d those ample plains,
- Famed for the dance, where Menelaüs reigns;
- Anxious she flies to great Ulysses’ heir,
- His instant voyage challenged all her care.
- Beneath the royal portico display’d,
- With Nestor’s son Telemachus was laid;
- In sleep profound the son of Nestor lies;
- Not thine, Ulysses! Care unseal’d his eyes:
- Restless he griev’d, with various fears oppress’d,
- And all thy fortunes roll’d within his breast.10
- When ‘O Telemachus!’ (the Goddess said)
- ‘Too long in vain, too widely hast thou stray’d,
- Thus leaving careless thy paternal right
- The robbers’ prize, the prey to lawless might.
- On fond pursuits neglectful while you roam,
- Ev’n now the hand of rapine sacks the dome.
- Hence to Atrides; and his leave implore
- To launch thy vessel for thy natal shore:
- Fly, whilst thy mother virtuous yet withstands
- Her kindred’s wishes, and her sire’s commands;20
- Thro’ both, Eurymachus pursues the dame,
- And with the noblest gifts asserts his claim.
- Hence therefore, while thy stores thy own remain;
- Thou know’st the practice of the female train;
- Lost in the children of the present spouse,
- They slight the pledges of their former vows;
- Their love is always with the lover past;
- Still the succeeding flame expels the last.
- Let o’er thy house some chosen maid preside,29
- Till Heav’n decrees to bless thee in a bride.
- But now thy more attentive ears incline,
- Observe the warnings of a Power divine;
- For thee their snares the suitor lords shall lay
- In Samos’ sands, or straits of Ithaca;
- To seize thy life shall lurk the murd’rous band,
- Ere yet thy footsteps press thy native land.
- No—sooner far their riot and their lust
- All-cov’ring earth shall bury deep in dust.
- Then distant from the scatter’d islands steer,
- Nor let the night retard thy full career;40
- Thy heav’nly guardian shall instruct the gales
- To smooth thy passage and supply thy sails:
- And when at Ithaca thy labour ends,
- Send to the town the vessel with thy friends;
- But seek thou first the master of the swine,
- (For still to thee his loyal thoughts incline);
- There pass the night; while he his course pursues
- To bring Penelope the wish’d-for news,
- That thou, safe sailing from the Pylian strand,
- Art come to bless her in thy native land.’50
- Thus spoke the Goddess, and resumed her flight
- To the pure regions of eternal light.
- Meanwhile Pisistratus he gently shakes,
- And with these words the slumb’ring youth awakes:
- ‘Rise, son of Nestor; for the road prepare,
- And join the harness’d coursers to the car.’
- ‘What cause,’ he cried, ‘can justify our flight
- To tempt the dangers of forbidding night?
- Here wait we rather, till approaching day
- Shall prompt our speed, and point the ready way.60
- Nor think of flight before the Spartan King
- Shall bid farewell, and bounteous presents bring;
- Gifts, which to distant ages safely stor’d,
- The sacred act of friendship shall record.’
- Thus he. But when the dawn bestreak’d the east,
- The King from Helen rose, and sought his guest.
- As soon as his approach the Hero knew,
- The splendid mantle round him first he threw,
- Then o’er his ample shoulders whirl’d the cloak,69
- Respectful met the Monarch, and bespoke:
- ‘Hail, great Atrides, favour’d of high Jove!
- Let not thy friends in vain for license move.
- Swift let us measure back the wat’ry way,
- Nor check our speed, impatient of delay.’
- ‘If with desire so strong thy bosom glows,
- Ill,’ said the King, ‘should I thy wish oppose:
- For oft in others freely I reprove
- The ill-timed efforts of officious love;
- Who love too much, hate in the like extreme,79
- And both the golden mean alike condemn.
- Alike he thwarts the hospitable end,
- Who drives the free, or stays the hasty friend:
- True friendship’s laws are by this rule express’d,
- Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.
- Yet stay, my friends, and in your chariot take
- The noblest presents that our love can make;
- Meantime commit we to our women’s care
- Some choice domestic viands to prepare;
- The trav’ler, rising from the banquet gay,
- Eludes the labours of the tedious way.90
- Then if a wider course shall rather please,
- Thro’ spacious Argos and the realms of Greece,
- Atrides in his chariot shall attend;
- Himself thy convoy to each royal friend.
- No Prince will let Ulysses’ heir remove
- Without some pledge, some monument of love:
- These will the cauldron, these the tripod give; }
- From those the well-pair’d mules we shall receive, }
- Or bowl emboss’d whose golden figures live.’ }
- To whom the youth, for prudence famed, replied:100
- ‘O Monarch, Care of Heav’n! thy people’s pride!
- No friend in Ithaca my place supplies,
- No powerful hands are there, no watchful eyes:
- My stores exposed and fenceless house demand
- The speediest succour from my guardian hand;
- Lest, in a search too anxious and too vain
- Of one lost joy, I lose what yet remain.’
- His purpose when the gen’rous Warrior heard,
- He charged the household cates to be prepared.
- Now with the dawn, from his adjoining home,110
- Was Bœthœdes Eteoneus come;
- Swift at the word he forms the rising blaze,
- And o’er the coals the smoking fragments lays.
- Meantime the King, his son, and Helen went
- Where the rich wardrobe breathed a costly scent.
- The King selected from the glitt’ring rows
- A bowl; the Prince a silver beaker chose.
- The beauteous Queen revolv’d with careful eyes
- Her various textures of unnumber’d dyes,
- And chose the largest; with no vulgar art120
- Her own fair hands embroider’d every part:
- Beneath the rest it lay divinely bright,
- Like radiant Hesper o’er the gems of night.
- Then with each gift they hasten’d to their guest,
- And thus the King Ulysses’ heir address’d:
- ‘Since fix’d are thy resolves, may thund’ring Jove
- With happiest omens thy desires approve!
- This silver bowl, whose costly margins shine
- Enchased with gold, this valued gift be thine;
- To me this present, of Vulcanian frame,130
- From Sidon’s hospitable Monarch came;
- To thee we now consign the precious load,
- The pride of Kings, and labour of a God.’
- Then gave the cup, while Megapenthe brought
- The silver vase with living sculpture wrought.
- The beauteous Queen, advancing next, display’d
- The shining veil, and thus endearing said:
- ‘Accept, dear youth, this monument of love,
- Long since, in better days, by Helen wove:
- Safe in thy mother’s care the vesture lay,140
- To deck thy bride, and grace thy nuptial day.
- Meantime may’st thou with happiest speed regain
- Thy stately palace, and thy wide domain.’
- She said, and gave the veil; with grateful look
- The Prince the variegated present took.
- And now, when thro’ the royal dome they pass’d,
- High on a throne the King each stranger placed.
- A golden ewer th’ attendant damsel brings,
- Replete with water from the crystal springs;
- With copious streams the shining vase supplies150
- A silver laver of capacious size.
- They wash. The tables in fair order spread,
- The glitt’ring canisters are crown’d with bread;
- Viands of various kinds allure the taste,
- Of choicest sort and savour; rich repast!
- Whilst Eteoneus portions out the shares,
- Atrides’ son the purple draught prepares.
- And now (each sated with the genial feast,
- And the short rage of thirst and hunger ceas’d),
- Ulysses’ son, with his illustrious friend,160
- The horses join, the polish’d car ascend.
- Along the court the fiery steeds rebound,
- And the wide portal echoes to the sound.
- The King precedes; a bowl with fragrant wine
- (Libation destin’d to the Powers divine)
- His right hand held: before the steeds he stands,
- Then, mix’d with prayers, he utters these commands:
- ‘Farewell, and prosper, Youths! let Nestor know
- What grateful thoughts still in this bosom glow,
- For all the proofs of his paternal care,170
- Thro’ the long dangers of the ten years’ war.’
- ‘Ah! doubt not our report’ (the Prince rejoin’d)
- ‘Of all the virtues of thy gen’rous mind.
- And oh! return’d might we Ulysses meet!
- To him thy presents show, thy words repeat:
- How will each speech his grateful wonder raise!
- How will each gift indulge us in thy praise!’
- Scarce ended thus the Prince, when on the right
- Advanc’d the bird of Jove: auspicious sight!
- A milk-white fowl his clinching talons bore,180
- With care domestic pamper’d at the floor.
- Peasants in vain with threat’ning cries pursue,
- In solemn speed the bird majestic flew
- Full dexter to the car: the prosp’rous sight
- Fill’d ev’ry breast with wonder and delight.
- But Nestor’s son the cheerful silence broke,
- And in these words the Spartan Chief bespoke:
- ‘Say if to us the Gods these omens send,
- Or fates peculiar to thyself portend?’
- Whilst yet the Monarch paus’d, with doubts oppress’d,190
- The beauteous Queen reliev’d his lab’ring breast:
- ‘Hear me’ (she cried), ‘to whom the Gods have given
- To read this sign, and mystic sense of Heav’n.
- As thus the plumy sov’reign of the air
- Left on the mountain’s brow his callow care,
- And wander’d thro’ the wide ethereal way
- To pour his wrath on yon luxurious prey;
- So shall thy godlike father, toss’d in vain
- Thro’ all the dangers of the boundless main,
- Arrive (or is perchance already come),200
- From slaughter’d gluttons to release the dome.’
- ‘Oh! if this promis’d bliss by thund’ring Jove’
- (The Prince replied) ‘stand fix’d in Fate above;
- To thee, as to some God, I’ll temples raise,
- And crown thy altars with the costly blaze.’
- He said; and, bending o’er his chariot, flung
- Athwart the fiery steeds the smarting thong;
- The bounding shafts upon the harness play,
- Till night descending intercepts the way.
- To Diocles at Pheræ they repair,210
- Whose boasted sire was sacred Alpheus’ heir;
- With him all night the youthful strangers stay’d,
- Nor found the hospitable rites unpaid.
- But soon as Morning from her orient bed
- Had tinged the mountains with her earliest red,
- They join’d the steeds, and on the chariot sprung;
- The brazen portals in their passage rung.
- To Pylos soon they came; when thus begun
- To Nestor’s heir Ulysses’ godlike son:219
- ‘Let not Pisistratus in vain be press’d,
- Nor unconsenting hear his friend’s request;
- His friend by long hereditary claim,
- In toils his equal, and in years the same.
- No farther from our vessel, I implore,
- The coursers drive; but lash them to the shore.
- Too long thy father would his friend detain;
- I dread his proffer’d kindness urged in vain.’
- The Hero paus’d, and ponder’d this request,
- While love and duty warr’d within his breast.
- At length resolv’d, he turn’d his ready hand,230
- And lash’d his panting coursers to the strand.
- There, while within the poop with care he stor’d
- The regal presents of the Spartan lord,
- ‘With speed begone’ (said he); ‘call every mate,
- Ere yet to Nestor I the tale relate:
- ’T is true, the fervour of his gen’rous heart
- Brooks no repulse, nor couldst thou soon depart:
- Himself will seek thee here, nor wilt thou find,
- In words alone, the Pylian Monarch kind.
- But when, arrived, he thy return shall know,240
- How will his breast with honest fury glow!’
- This said, the sounding strokes his horses fire,
- And soon he reach’d the palace of his sire.
- ‘Now’ (cried Telemachus) ‘with speedy care
- Hoist ev’ry sail, and ev’ry oar prepare!’
- Swift as the word his willing mates obey,
- And seize their seats, impatient for the sea.
- Meantime the Prince with sacrifice adores
- Minerva, and her guardian aid implores;
- When lo! a wretch ran breathless to the shore,250
- New from his crime; and reeking yet with gore.
- A seer he was, from great Melampus sprung,
- Melampus, who in Pylos flourish’d long,
- Till, urged by wrongs, a foreign realm he chose,
- Far from the hateful cause of all his woes.
- Neleus his treasures one long year detains:
- As long he groan’d in Phylacus’s chains:
- Meantime, what anguish and what rage combin’d,
- For lovely Pero rack’d his lab’ring mind!
- Yet ’scaped he death: and, vengeful of his wrong,260
- To Pylos drove the lowing herds along:
- Then (Neleus vanquish’d, and consign’d the fair
- To Bias’ arms) he sought a foreign air;
- Argos the rich for his retreat he chose;
- There form’d his empire: there his palace rose.
- From him Antiphates and Mantius came; }
- The first begot Oïcleus great in fame, }
- And he Amphiaraüs, immortal name! }
- The people’s saviour, and divinely wise, }
- Belov’d by Jove, and him who gilds the skies; 270 }
- Yet short his date of life! by female pride he dies. }
- From Mantius Clitus, whom Aurora’s love
- Snatch’d for his beauty to the thrones above;
- And Polyphides, on whom Phœbus shone
- With fullest rays, Amphiaraüs now gone;
- In Hyperesia’s groves he made abode,
- And taught mankind the counsels of the God.
- From him sprung Theoclymenus, who found
- (The sacred wine yet foaming on the ground)
- Telemachus: whom, as to Heav’n he press’d280
- His ardent vows, the stranger thus address’d:
- ‘O thou! that dost thy happy course prepare
- With pure libations and with solemn prayer;
- By that dread Power to whom thy vows are paid;
- By all the lives of these; thy own dear head,
- Declare sincerely to no foe’s demand
- Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land.’
- ‘Prepare, then,’ said Telemachus, ‘to know
- A tale from falsehood free, not free from woe.
- From Ithaca, of royal birth I came,290
- And great Ulysses (ever-honour’d name!)
- Once was my sire, tho’ now for ever lost,
- In Stygian gloom he glides a pensive ghost!
- Whose fate inquiring thro’ the world we rove:
- The last, the wretched proof of filial love.’
- The stranger then: ‘Nor shall I aught conceal,
- But the dire secret of my fate reveal.
- Of my own tribe an Argive wretch I slew;
- Whose powerful friends the luckless deed pursue
- With unrelenting rage, and force from home300
- The blood-stain’d exile, ever doom’d to roam.
- But bear, oh bear me o’er yon azure flood;
- Receive the suppliant! spare my destin’d blood!’
- ‘Stranger’ (replied the Prince), ‘securely rest
- Affianc’d in our faith; henceforth our guest.’
- Thus affable, Ulysses’ godlike heir
- Takes from the stranger’s hand the glitt’ring spear:
- He climbs the ship, ascends the stern with haste,
- And by his side the guest accepted placed.
- The Chief his order gives: th’ obedient band310
- With due observance wait the Chief’s command.
- With speed the mast they rear, with speed unbind
- The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind.
- Minerva calls; the ready gales obey
- With rapid speed to whirl them o’er the sea.
- Crunus they pass’d, next Chalcis roll’d away,
- When thick’ning darkness closed the doubtful day;
- The silver Phæa’s glitt’ring rills they lost,
- And skimm’d along by Elis’ sacred coast.
- Then cautious thro’ the rocky reaches wind,320
- And, turning sudden, shun the death design’d.
- Meantime, the King, Eumæus, and the rest,
- Sate in the cottage, at their rural feast:
- The banquet pass’d, and satiate ev’ry man,
- To try his host, Ulysses thus began:
- ‘Yet one night more, my friends, indulge your guest;
- The last I purpose in your walls to rest;
- To-morrow for myself I must provide,
- And only ask your counsel, and a guide;
- Patient to roam the street, by hunger led,
- And bless the friendly hand that gives me bread.331
- There in Ulysses’ roof I may relate
- Ulysses’ wand’rings to his royal mate;
- Or, mingling with the suitors’ haughty train,
- Not undeserving some support obtain.
- Hermes to me his various gifts imparts,
- Patron of industry and manual arts:
- Few can with me in dext’rous works contend,
- The pyre to build, the stubborn oak to rend;
- To turn the tasteful viand o’er the flame;340
- Or foam the goblet with a purple stream.
- Such are the tasks of men of mean estate,
- Whom fortune dooms to serve the rich and great.’
- ‘Alas!’ (Eumæus with a sigh rejoin’d)
- ‘How sprung a thought so monstrous in thy mind?
- If on that godless race thou would’st attend,
- Fate owes thee sure a miserable end!
- Their wrongs and blasphemies ascend the sky,
- And pull descending vengeance from on high.
- Not such, my friend, the servants of their feast;350
- A blooming train in rich embroid’ry dress’d!
- With earth’s whole tribute the bright table bends,
- And smiling round celestial youth attends.
- Stay, then; no eye askance beholds thee here;
- Sweet is thy converse to each social ear:
- Well pleas’d, and pleasing, in our cottage rest,
- Till good Telemachus accepts his guest
- With genial gifts, and change of fair attires,
- And safe conveys thee where thy soul desires.’
- To him the man of woes: ‘O gracious Jove360
- Reward this stranger’s hospitable love!
- Who knows the son of sorrow to relieve,
- Cheers the sad heart, nor lets affliction grieve.
- Of all the ills unhappy mortals know,
- A life of wand’rings is the greatest woe:
- On all their weary ways wait Care and Pain,
- And Pine and Penury, a meagre train.
- To such a man since harbour you afford,
- Relate the farther fortunes of your lord;
- What cares his mother’s tender breast engage,370
- And sire forsaken on the verge of age;
- Beneath the sun prolong they yet their breath,
- Or range the house of darkness and of death?’
- To whom the swain: ‘Attend what you inquire;
- Laërtes lives, the miserable sire;
- Lives, but implores of ev’ry Power to lay
- The burden down, and wishes for the day.
- Torn from his offspring in the eve of life,
- Torn from th’ embraces of his tender wife,
- Sole, and all comfortless, he wastes away
- Old age, untimely posting ere his day.381
- She too, sad mother! for Ulysses lost
- Pined out her bloom, and vanish’d to a ghost
- (So dire a fate, ye righteous Gods! avert
- From ev’ry friendly, ev’ry feeling heart);
- While yet she was, tho’ clouded o’er with grief,
- Her pleasing converse minister’d relief:
- With Ctimene, her youngest daughter, bred,
- One roof contain’d us, and one table fed.
- But when the softly-stealing pace of time
- Crept on from childhood into youthful prime,391
- To Samos isle she sent the wedded fair;
- Me to the fields, to tend the rural care;
- Array’d in garments her own hands had wove,
- Nor less the darling object of her love.
- Her hapless death my brighter days o’ercast,
- Yet Providence deserts me not at last:
- My present labours food and drink procure,
- And more, the pleasure to relieve the poor.
- Small is the comfort from the Queen to hear400
- Unwelcome news, or vex the royal ear;
- Blank and discountenanc’d the servants stand,
- Nor dare to question where the proud command:
- No profit springs beneath usurping powers;
- Want feeds not there, where Luxury devours,
- Nor harbours charity where riot reigns:
- Proud are the Lords, and wretched are the Swains.’
- The suff’ring Chief at this began to melt;
- And, ‘O Eumæus! thou’ (he cries) ‘hast felt
- The spite of Fortune too! her cruel hand410
- Snatch’d thee an infant from thy native land!
- Snatch’d from thy parents’ arms, thy parents’ eyes,
- To early wants! a man of miseries!
- The whole sad story, from its first, declare:
- Sunk the fair city by the rage of war,
- Where once thy parents dwelt? or did they keep,
- In humbler life, the lowing herds and sheep?
- So left perhaps to tend the fleecy train,
- Rude pirates seiz’d, and shipp’d thee o’er the main?
- Doom’d a fair prize to grace some Prince’s board,420
- The worthy purchase of a foreign Lord.’
- ‘If then my fortunes can delight my friend,
- A story fruitful of events attend:
- Another’s sorrow may thy ear enjoy,
- And wine the lengthen’d intervals employ.
- Long nights the now declining year bestows;
- A part we consecrate to soft repose,
- A part in pleasing talk we entertain;
- For too much rest itself becomes a pain.
- Let those, whom sleep invites, the call obey,430
- Their cares resuming with the dawning day:
- Here let us feast, and to the feast be join’d
- Discourse, the sweeter banquet of the mind;
- Review the series of our lives, and taste
- The melancholy joy of evils pass’d:
- For he who much has suffer’d, much will know,
- And pleas’d remembrance builds delight on woe.
- ‘Above Ortygia lies an isle of fame,
- Far hence remote, and Syria is the name
- (There curious eyes inscribed with wonder trace440
- The sun’s diurnal, and his annual race);
- Not large, but fruitful; stored with grass, to keep
- The bell’wing oxen and the bleating sheep;
- Her sloping hills the mantling vines adorn,
- And her rich valleys wave with golden corn.
- No want, no famine, the glad natives know,
- Nor sink by sickness to the shades below;
- But when a length of years unnerves the strong,448
- Apollo comes, and Cynthia comes along.
- They bend the silver bow with tender skill,
- And, void of pain, the silent arrows kill.
- Two equal tribes this fertile land divide,
- Where two fair cities rise with equal pride,
- But both in constant peace one Prince obey,
- And Ctesius there, my father, holds the sway.
- Freighted, it seems, with toys of ev’ry sort,
- A ship of Sidon anchor’d in our port;
- What time it chanc’d the palace entertain’d,
- Skill’d in rich works, a woman of their land:
- This nymph, where anchor’d the Phœnician train,460
- To wash her robes descending to the main,
- A smooth-tongued sailor won her to his mind
- (For love deceives the best of womankind).
- A sudden trust from sudden liking grew;
- She told her name, her race, and all she knew.
- “I too” (she cried) “from glorious Sidon came.
- My father Arybas, of wealthy fame;
- But, snatch’d by pirates from my native place,
- The Taphians sold me to this man’s embrace.”
- ‘ “Haste then” (the false designing youth replied),470
- “Haste to thy country; love shall be thy guide;
- Haste to thy father’s house, thy father’s breast,
- For still he lives, and lives with riches blest.”
- ‘ “Swear first” (she cried), “ye Sailors! to restore }
- A wretch in safety to her native shore.” }
- Swift as she ask’d, the ready sailors swore. }
- She then proceeds: “Now let our compact made
- Be nor by signal nor by word betray’d,
- Nor near me any of your crew descried,
- By road frequented, or by fountain side:480
- Be silence still our guard. The Monarch’s spies
- (For watchful age is ready to surmise)
- Are still at hand; and this reveal’d, must be
- Death to yourselves, eternal chains to me.
- Your vessel loaded, and your traffic pass’d,
- Despatch a wary messenger with haste;
- Then gold and costly treasures will I bring,
- And more, the infant-offspring of the King.
- Him, childlike wand’ring forth, I’ll lead away
- (A noble prize!) and to your ship convey.”
- ‘Thus spoke the dame, and homeward took the road.491
- A year they traffic, and their vessel load.
- Their stores complete, and ready now to weigh,
- A spy was sent their summons to convey:
- An artist to my father’s palace came,
- With gold and amber chains, elab’rate frame:
- Each female eye the glitt’ring links employ;
- They turn, review, and cheapen ev’ry toy.
- He took th’ occasion, as they stood intent,
- Gave her the sign, and to his vessel went.
- She straight pursued, and seiz’d my willing arm;501
- I follow’d smiling, innocent of harm.
- Three golden goblets in the porch she found
- (The guests not enter’d, but the table crown’d);
- Hid in her fraudful bosom these she bore:
- Now set the sun, and darken’d all the shore.
- Arriving then, where, tilting on the tides,
- Prepared to launch the freighted vessel rides,
- Aboard they heave us, mount their decks, and sweep
- With level oar along the glassy deep.510
- Six calmy days and six smooth nights we sail,
- And constant Jove supplied the gentle gale.
- The sev’nth, the fraudful wretch (no cause descried),
- Touch’d by Diana’s vengeful arrow, died.
- Down dropp’d the caitiff-corse, a worthless load, }
- Down to the deep; there roll’d, the future food }
- Of fierce sea-wolves, and monsters of the flood. }
- A helpless infant I remain’d behind;
- Thence borne to Ithaca by wave and wind;
- Sold to Laërtes by divine command,520
- And now adopted to a foreign land.’
- To him the King: ‘Reciting thus thy cares,
- My secret soul in all thy sorrow shares;
- But one choice blessing (such is Jove’s high will)
- Has sweeten’d all thy bitter draught of ill:
- Torn from thy country to no hapless end,
- The Gods have, in a master, giv’n a friend.
- Whatever frugal nature needs is thine
- (For she needs little), daily bread and wine.
- While I, so many wand’rings past and woes,530
- Live but on what thy poverty bestows.’
- So pass’d in pleasing dialogue away }
- The night; then down to short repose they lay; }
- Till radiant rose the messenger of day. }
- While in the port of Ithaca, the band
- Of young Telemachus approach’d the land;
- Their sails they loos’d, they lash’d the mast aside,
- And cast their anchors, and the cables tied:
- Then on the breezy shore, descending, join
- In grateful banquet o’er the rosy wine.540
- When thus the Prince: ‘Now each his course pursue:
- I to the fields, and to the city you.
- Long absent hence, I dedicate this day
- My swains to visit, and the works survey.
- Expect me with the morn, to pay the skies
- Our debt of safe return in feast and sacrifice.’
- Then Theoclymenus: ‘But who shall lend,
- Meantime, protection to thy stranger friend?
- Straight to the Queen and Palace shall I fly,549
- Or, yet more distant, to some Lord apply?’
- The Prince return’d: ‘Renown’d in days of yore
- Has stood our father’s hospitable door;
- No other roof a stranger should receive,
- No other hands than ours the welcome give.
- But in my absence riot fills the place,
- Nor bears the modest Queen a stranger’s face;
- From noiseful revel far remote she flies,
- But rarely seen, or seen with weeping eyes.
- No—let Eurymachus receive my guest,
- Of nature courteous, and by far the best;
- He woos the Queen with more respectful flame,561
- And emulates her former husband’s fame:
- With what success, ’t is Jove’s alone to know,
- And the hoped nuptials turn to joy or woe.’
- Thus speaking, on the right up-soar’d in air
- The hawk, Apollo’s swift-wing’d messenger:
- His deathful pounces tore a trembling dove;
- The clotted feathers, scatter’d from above,
- Between the hero and the vessel pour
- Thick plumage, mingled with a sanguine shower.570
- Th’ observing augur took the Prince aside,
- Seiz’d by the hand, and thus prophetic cried:
- ‘Yon bird, that dexter cuts th’ aërial road,
- Rose ominous, nor flies without a God:
- No race but thine shall Ithaca obey;
- To thine, for ages, Heav’n decrees the sway.’
- ‘Succeed the omens, Gods!’ (the youth rejoin’d)
- ‘Soon shall my bounties speak a grateful mind,
- And soon each envied happiness attend579
- The man who calls Telemachus his friend.’
- Then to Peiræus: ‘Thou whom time has prov’d
- A faithful servant, by thy Prince belov’d!
- Till we returning shall our guest demand,
- Accept this charge with honour, at our hand.’
- To this Peiræus: ‘Joyful I obey,
- Well pleas’d the hospitable rites to pay.
- The presence of thy guest shall best reward
- (If long thy stay) the absence of my lord.’
- With that, their anchors he commands to weigh,
- Mount the tall bark, and launch into the sea.590
- All with obedient haste forsake the shores,
- And, placed in order, spread their equal oars.
- Then from the deck the Prince his sandals takes;
- Pois’d in his hand the pointed jav’lin shakes.
- They part; while, less’ning from the hero’s view,
- Swift to the town the well-row’d galley flew:
- The hero trod the margin of the main,
- And reach’d the mansion of his faithful swain.

BOOK XVII

ARGUMENT

Telemachus, returning to the city, relates to Penelope the sum of his travels. Ulysses is conducted by Eumæus to the palace, where his old dog Argus acknowledges his master, after an absence of twenty years, and dies with joy. Eumæus returns into the country, and Ulysses remains among the Suitors, whose behaviour is described.

- Soon as Aurora, Daughter of the Dawn,
- Sprinkled with roseate light the dewy lawn,
- In haste the Prince arose, prepared to part;
- His hand impatient grasps the pointed dart;
- Fair on his feet the polish’d sandals shine,
- And thus he greets the master of the swine:
- ‘My friend, adieu! let this short stay suffice; }
- I haste to meet my mother’s longing eyes, }
- And end her tears, her sorrows, and her sighs, }
- But thou, attentive, what we order heed:10
- This hapless stranger to the city lead:
- By public bounty let him there be fed,
- And bless the hand that stretches forth the bread;
- To wipe the tears from all afflicted eyes,
- My will may covet, but my power denies.
- If this raise anger in the stranger’s thought,
- The pain of anger punishes the fault:
- The very truth I undisguised declare;
- For what so easy as to be sincere?’
- To this Ulysses: ‘What the Prince requires20
- Of swift removal, seconds my desires.
- To want like mine the peopled town can yield
- More hopes of comfort than the lonely field:
- Nor fits my age to till the labour’d lands,
- Or stoop to tasks a rural lord demands.
- Adieu! but since this ragged garb can bear
- So ill th’ inclemencies of morning air,
- A few hours’ space permit me here to stay: }
- My steps Eumæus shall to town convey, }
- With riper beams when Phœbus warms the day.’30 }
- Thus he; nor aught Telemachus replied,
- But left the mansion with a lofty stride:
- Schemes of revenge his pond’ring breast elate,
- Revolving deep the suitors’ sudden fate.
- Arriving now before th’ imperial hall,
- He props his spear against the pillar’d wall;
- Then like a lion o’er the threshold bounds;
- The marble pavement with his step resounds;
- His eye first glanc’d where Euryclea spreads
- With furry spoils of beasts the splendid beds:40
- She saw, she wept, she ran with eager pace,
- And reach’d her master with a long embrace.
- All crowded round the family appears
- With wild entrancement, and ecstatic tears.
- Swift from above descends the royal Fair }
- (Her beauteous cheeks the blush of Venus wear, }
- Chasten’d with coy Diana’s pensive air); }
- Hangs o’er her son, in his embraces dies;
- Rains kisses on his neck, his face, his eyes:
- Few words she spoke, tho’ much she had to say:50
- And scarce those few, for tears, could force their way.
- ‘Light of my eyes! he comes! unhoped-for joy!
- Has Heav’n from Pylos brought my lovely boy?
- So snatch’d from all our cares!—Tell, hast thou known
- Thy father’s fate, and tell me all thy own.’
- ‘Oh dearest! most revered of womankind!
- Cease with those tears to melt a manly mind’
- (Replied the Prince); ‘nor be our fates deplor’d,
- From death and treason to thy arms restor’d.
- Go, bathe, and robed in white ascend the towers;60
- With all thy handmaids thank th’ immortal Powers:
- To ev’ry God vow hecatombs to bleed,
- And call Jove’s vengeance on the guilty deed.
- While to th’ assembled council I repair;
- A stranger sent by Heav’n attends me there;
- My new accepted guest I haste to find,
- Now to Peiræus’ honour’d charge consign’d.’
- The matron heard, nor was his word in vain.
- She bathed; and, robed in white, with all her train,
- To ev’ry God vow’d hecatombs to bleed,70
- And call’d Jove’s vengeance on the guilty deed.
- Arm’d with his lance, the Prince then pass’d the gate;
- Two dogs behind, a faithful guard, await;
- Pallas his form with grace divine improves:
- The gazing crowd admires him as he moves:
- Him, gath’ring round, the haughty suitors greet
- With semblance fair, but inward deep deceit.
- Their false addresses gen’rous he denied,
- Pass’d on, and sate by faithful Mentor’s side;
- With Antiphus, and Halitherses sage,80
- His father’s counsellors, revered for age.
- Of his own fortunes, and Ulysses’ fame,
- Much ask’d the seniors; till Peiræus came.
- The stranger-guest pursued him close behind;
- Whom when Telemachus beheld, he join’d.
- He (when Peiræus ask’d for slaves to bring
- The gifts and treasures of the Spartan King)
- Thus thoughtful answer’d: ‘Those we shall not move,
- Dark and unconscious of the will of Jove:
- We know not yet the full event of all;90
- Stabb’d in his palace if your Prince must fall.
- Us, and our house, if treason must o’erthrow,
- Better a friend possess them than a foe;
- If death to these, and vengeance, Heav’n decree,
- Riches are welcome then, not else, to me.
- Till then retain the gifts.’—The hero said,
- And in his hand the willing stranger led.
- Then, disarray’d, the shining bath they sought
- (With unguents smooth) of polish’d marble wrought;
- Obedient handmaids with assistant toil100
- Supply the limpid wave, and fragrant oil;
- Then o’er their limbs refulgent robes they threw,
- And fresh from bathing to their seats withdrew.
- The golden ewer a nymph attendant brings,
- Replenish’d from the pure translucent springs:
- With copious streams that golden ewer supplies
- A silver laver of capacious size.
- They wash: the table, in fair order spread,
- Is piled with viands and the strength of bread.
- Full opposite, before the folding gate,110
- The pensive mother sits in humble state;
- Lowly she sate, and with dejected view
- The fleecy threads her iv’ry fingers drew.
- The Prince and stranger shared the genial feast,
- Till now the rage of thirst and hunger ceas’d.
- When thus the Queen: ‘My son! my only friend!
- Say, to my mournful couch shall I ascend
- (The couch deserted now a length of years;
- The couch for ever water’d with my tears)?
- Say, wilt thou not (ere yet the suitor crew
- Return, and riot shakes our walls anew),121
- Say, wilt thou not the least account afford?
- The least glad tidings of my absent lord?’
- To her the youth: ‘We reach’d the Pylian plains,
- Where Nestor, shepherd of his people, reigns.
- All arts of tenderness to him are known,
- Kind to Ulysses’ race as to his own:
- No father with a fonder grasp of joy
- Strains to his bosom his long-absent boy.
- But all unknown, if yet Ulysses breathe,130
- Or glide a spectre in the realms beneath:
- For farther search, his rapid steeds transport
- My lengthen’d journey to the Spartan court.
- There Argive Helen I beheld, whose charms
- (So Heav’n decreed) engaged the great in arms.
- My cause of coming told, he thus rejoin’d;
- And still his words live perfect in my mind:
- ‘ “Heav’ns! would a soft, inglorious, dastard train
- An absent hero’s nuptial joys profane!
- So with her young, amid the woodland shades,140
- A tim’rous hind the lion’s court invades,
- Leaves in that fatal lair her tender fawns,
- And climbs the cliffs, or feeds along the lawns;
- Meantime returning, with remorseless sway
- The monarch savage rends the panting prey:
- With equal fury, and with equal fame,
- Shall great Ulysses reassert his claim.
- O Jove! Supreme! whom men and Gods revere;
- And thou, whose lustre gilds the rolling sphere!
- With power congenial join’d, propitious aid150
- The Chief adopted by the Martial Maid!
- Such to our wish the warrior soon restore,
- As when, contending on the Lesbian shore,
- His prowess Philomelides confess’d,
- And loud acclaiming Greeks the victor bless’d:
- Then soon th’ invaders of his bed and throne,
- Their love presumptuous shall by death atone.
- Now what you question of my ancient friend,
- With truth I answer; thou the truth attend.
- Learn what I heard the sea-born seer relate,160
- Whose eye can pierce the dark recess of fate.
- Sole in an isle, imprison’d by the main,
- The sad survivor of his numerous train,
- Ulysses lies; detain’d by magic charms,
- And press’d unwilling in Calypso’s arms.
- No sailors there, no vessels to convey,
- No oars to cut th’ immeasurable way.”
- This told Atrides, and he told no more.
- Then safe I voyaged to my native shore.’
- He ceas’d; nor made the pensive Queen reply,170
- But droop’d her head, and drew a secret sigh.
- When Theoclymenus the seer began:
- ‘O suff’ring consort of the suff’ring man!
- What human knowledge could, those Kings might tell,
- But I the secrets of high Heav’n reveal.
- Before the first of Gods be this declared,
- Before the board whose blessings we have shared;
- Witness the genial rites, and witness all
- This house holds sacred in her ample wall!
- Ev’n now, this instant, great Ulysses, laid180
- At rest, or wand’ring in his country’s shade,
- Their guilty deeds, in hearing, and in view,
- Secret revolves; and plans the vengeance due.
- Of this sure auguries the Gods bestow’d,
- When first our vessel anchor’d in your road.’
- ‘Succeed those omens, Heav’n!’ (the Queen rejoin’d)
- ‘So shall our bounties speak a grateful mind:
- And every envied happiness attend
- The man who calls Penelope his friend.’
- Thus communed they: while in the marble court190
- (Scene of their insolence) the lords resort;
- Athwart the spacious square each tries his art,
- To whirl the disk, or aim the missile dart.
- Now did the hour of sweet repast arrive,
- And from the field the victim flocks they drive:
- Medon the Herald (one who pleas’d them best,
- And honour’d with a portion of their feast),
- To bid the banquet, interrupts their play: }
- Swift to the hall they haste; aside they lay }
- Their garments, and succinct the victims slay.200 }
- Then sheep, and goats, and bristly porkers bled,
- And the proud steer was o’er the marble spread.
- While thus the copious banquet they provide,
- Along the road, conversing side by side,
- Proceed Ulysses and the faithful swain:
- When thus Eumæus, gen’rous and humane:
- ‘To town, observant of our lord’s behest,
- Now let us speed: my friend, no more my guest!
- Yet like myself I wish thee here preferr’d,
- Guard of the flock, or keeper of the herd.210
- But much to raise my master’s wrath I fear;
- The wrath of Princes ever is severe.
- Then heed his will, and be our journey made }
- While the broad beams of Phœbus are display’d, }
- Or ere brown ev’ning spreads her chilly shade.’ }
- ‘Just thy advice’ (the prudent Chief rejoin’d),
- ‘And such as suits the dictate of my mind.
- Lead on: but help me to some staff to stay
- My feeble step, since rugged is the way.’
- Across his shoulders then the scrip he flung,220
- Wide-patch’d, and fasten’d by a twisted thong.
- A staff Eumæus gave. Along the way
- Cheerly they fare: behind, the keepers stay;
- These with their watchful dogs (a constant guard)
- Supply his absence, and attend the herd.
- And now his city strikes the Monarch’s eyes,
- Alas! how changed! a man of miseries;
- Propp’d on a staff, a beggar old and bare,
- In rags dishonest flutt’ring with the air!
- Now, pass’d the rugged road, they journey down230
- The cavern’d way descending to the town,
- Where, from the rock, with liquid drops distils
- A limpid fount, that, spread in parting rills,
- Its current thence to serve the city brings;
- A useful work, adorn’d by ancient kings.
- Neritus, Ithacus, Polyctor, there,
- In sculptured stone immortalized their care;
- In marble urns receiv’d it from above,
- And shaded with a green surrounding grove;239
- Where silver alders, in high arches twin’d,
- Drink the cool stream, and tremble to the wind.
- Beneath, sequester’d to the nymphs, is seen
- A mossy altar, deep embower’d in green;
- Where constant vows by travellers are paid,
- And holy horrors solemnize the shade.
- Here, with his goats (not vow’d to sacred flame,
- But pamper’d luxury), Melanthius came:
- Two grooms attend him. With an envious look
- He eyed the stranger, and imperious spoke:
- ‘The good old proverb how this pair fulfil!250
- One rogue is usher to another still.
- Heav’n with a secret principle endued
- Mankind, to seek their own similitude.
- Where goes the swineherd with that ill-look’d guest?
- That giant glutton, dreadful at a feast!
- Full many a post have those broad shoulders worn,
- From ev’ry great man’s gate repuls’d with scorn:
- To no brave prize aspired the worthless swain,
- ’T was but for scraps he ask’d, and ask’d in vain.259
- To beg, than work, he better understands;
- Or we perhaps might take him off thy hands.
- For any office could the slave be good,
- To cleanse the fold, or help the kids to food,
- If any labour those big joints could learn,
- Some whey, to wash his bowels, he might earn.
- To cringe, to whine, his idle hands to spread,
- Is all by which that graceless maw is fed.
- Yet hear me! if thy impudence but dare
- Approach yon walls, I prophesy thy fare:
- Dearly, full dearly, shalt thou buy thy bread270
- With many a footstool thund’ring at thy head.’
- He thus: nor insolent of word alone,
- Spurn’d with his rustic heel his King unknown;
- Spurn’d, but not mov’d: he like a pillar stood,
- Nor stirr’d an inch, contemptuous, from the road:
- Doubtful, or with his staff to strike him dead,
- Or greet the pavement with his worthless head.
- Short was that doubt; to quell his rage inured,
- The hero stood self-conquer’d, and endured.279
- But hateful of the wretch, Eumæus heav’d
- His hands obtesting, and this prayer conceiv’d:
- ‘Daughters of Jove! who from th’ ethereal bowers
- Descend to swell the springs, and feed the flowers!
- Nymphs of this fountain! to whose sacred names
- Our rural victims mount in blazing flames!
- To whom Ulysses’ piety preferr’d
- The yearly firstlings of his flock, and herd;
- Succeed my wish, your votary restore:
- Oh, be some God his convoy to our shore!
- Due pains shall punish then this slave’s offence,290
- And humble all his airs of insolence,
- Who, proudly stalking, leaves the herds at large,
- Commences courtier, and neglects his charge.’
- ‘What mutters he?’ (Melanthius sharp rejoins)
- ‘This crafty miscreant big with dark designs?
- The day shall come; nay, ’t is already near,
- When, slave! to sell thee at a price too dear
- Must be my care; and hence transport thee o’er,
- A load and scandal to this happy shore.
- Oh that as surely great Apollo’s dart,300
- Or some brave suitor’s sword, might pierce the heart
- Of the proud son, as that we stand this hour
- In lasting safety from the father’s power!’
- So spoke the wretch, but, shunning farther fray,
- Turn’d his proud step, and left them on their way.
- Straight to the feastful palace he repair’d,
- Familiar enter’d, and the banquet shared;
- Beneath Eurymachus, his patron lord,
- He took his place, and plenty heap’d the board.
- Meantime they heard, soft-circling in the sky,310
- Sweet airs ascend, and heav’nly minstrelsy
- (For Phemius to the lyre attuned the strain):
- Ulysses hearken’d, then address’d the swain:
- ‘Well may this palace admiration claim,
- Great, and respondent to the master’s fame!
- Stage above stage th’ imperial structure stands,
- Holds the chief honours, and the town commands:
- High walls and battlements the courts inclose,
- And the strong gates defy a host of foes.
- Far other cares its dwellers now employ;320
- The throng’d assembly and the feast of joy:
- I see the smokes of sacrifice aspire,
- And hear (what graces ev’ry feast) the lyre.’
- Then thus Eumæus: ‘Judge we which were best:
- Amidst yon revellers a sudden guest
- Choose you to mingle, while behind I stay?
- Or I first ent’ring introduce the way?
- Wait for a space without, but wait not long;
- This is the house of violence and wrong:
- Some rude insult thy rev’rend age may bear;330
- For like their lawless lords the servants are.’
- ‘Just is, O Friend! thy caution, and address’d’
- (Replied the Chief) ‘to no unheedful breast:
- The wrongs and injuries of base mankind
- Fresh to my sense, and always in my mind.
- The bravely-patient to no fortune yields:
- On rolling oceans, and in fighting fields,
- Storms have I pass’d, and many a stern debate;
- And now in humbler scene submit to Fate.
- What can not Want? The best she will expose,340
- And I am learn’d in all her train of woes;
- She fills with navies, hosts, and loud alarms
- The sea, the land, and shakes the world with arms!’
- Thus near the gates conferring as they drew,
- Argus, the dog, his ancient master knew;
- He, not unconscious of the voice and tread,
- Lifts to the sound his ear, and rears his head;
- Bred by Ulysses, nourish’d at his board,
- But ah! not fated long to please his lord!
- To him, his swiftness and his strength were vain;350
- The voice of glory call’d him o’er the main.
- Till then in ev’ry sylvan chase renown’d,
- With Argus, Argus, rung the woods around:
- With him the youth pursued the goat or fawn,
- Or traced the mazy lev’ret o’er the lawn.
- Now left to man’s ingratitude he lay,
- Unhous’d, neglected in the public way;
- And where on heaps the rich manure was spread,
- Obscene with reptiles, took his sordid bed.
- He knew his lord; he knew, and strove to meet;360
- In vain he strove to crawl and kiss his feet;
- Yet (all he could) his tail, his ears, his eyes
- Salute his master, and confess his joys.
- Soft pity touch’d the mighty master’s soul;
- Adown his cheek a tear unbidden stole,
- Stole unperceiv’d; he turn’d his head and dried
- The drop humane; then thus impassion’d cried:
- ‘What noble beast in this abandon’d state
- Lies here all helpless at Ulysses’ gate?
- His bulk and beauty speak no vulgar praise:370
- If, as he seems, he was in better days,
- Some care his age deserves; or was he prized
- For worthless beauty? therefore now despised:
- Such dogs and men there are, mere things of state:
- And always cherish’d by their friends, the great.’
- ‘Not Argus so’ (Eumæus thus rejoin’d),
- ‘But serv’d a master of a nobler kind,
- Who never, never shall behold him more!
- Long, long since perish’d on a distant shore!
- Oh had you seen him, vig’rous, bold, and young,380
- Swift as a stag, and as a lion strong:
- Him no fell savage on the plain withstood,
- None ’scaped him bosom’d in the gloomy wood:
- His eye how piercing, and his scent how true,
- To wind the vapour in the tainted dew!
- Such, when Ulysses left his natal coast;
- Now years unnerve him, and his lord is lost!
- The women keep the gen’rous creature bare,
- A sleek and idle race is all their care:
- The master gone, the servants what restrains?390
- Or dwells humanity where riot reigns?
- Jove fix’d it certain, that whatever day
- Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away.’
- This said, the honest herdsman strode before:
- The musing Monarch pauses at the door:
- The dog, whom Fate had granted to behold
- His lord, when twenty tedious years had roll’d,
- Takes a last look, and, having seen him, dies:
- So closed for ever faithful Argus’ eyes!
- And now Telemachus, the first of all,400
- Observ’d Eumæus ent’ring in the hall;
- Distant he saw, across the shady dome;
- Then gave a sign, and beckon’d him to come.
- There stood an empty seat, where late was placed,
- In order due, the steward of the feast
- (Who now was busied carving round the board);
- Eumæus took, and placed it near his lord.
- Before him instant was the banquet spread,
- And the bright basket piled with loaves of bread;
- Next came Ulysses lowly at the door,410
- A figure despicable, old, and poor,
- In squalid vests, with many a gaping rent,
- Propp’d on a staff, and trembling as he went.
- Then resting on the threshold of the gate,
- Against a cypress pillar lean’d his weight
- (Smooth’d by the workman to a polish’d plane);
- The thoughtful son beheld, and call’d his swain:
- ‘These viands, and this bread, Eumæus! bear,
- And let yon mendicant our plenty share:
- Then let him circle round the suitors’ board,420
- And try the bounty of each gracious lord.
- Bold let him ask, encouraged thus by me;
- How ill, alas! do want and shame agree!’
- His lord’s command the faithful servant bears:
- The seeming beggar answers with his prayers:
- ‘Bless’d be Telemachus! in ev’ry deed
- Inspire him, Jove! in ev’ry wish succeed!’
- This said, the portion from his son convey’d
- With smiles receiving on his scrip he laid.
- Long as the minstrel swept the sounding wire,430
- He fed, and ceas’d when silence held the lyre.
- Soon as the suitors from the banquet rose,
- Minerva prompts the man of mighty woes
- To tempt their bounties with a suppliant’s art,
- And learn the gen’rous from th’ ignoble heart
- (Not but his soul, resentful as humane,
- Dooms to full vengeance all th’ offending train);
- With speaking eyes, and voice of plaintive sound,
- Humble he moves, imploring all around.
- The proud feel pity, and relief bestow,440
- With such an image touch’d of human woe;
- Inquiring all, their wonder they confess,
- And eye the man, majestic in distress.
- While thus they gaze and question with their eyes,
- The bold Melanthius to their thought replies:
- ‘My lords! this stranger of gigantic port
- The good Eumæus usher’d to your court.
- Full well I mark’d the features of his face,
- Tho’ all unknown his clime, or noble race.’
- ‘And is this present, swineherd! of thy hand?450
- Bring’st thou these vagrants to infest the land?’
- (Returns Antinoüs with retorted eye)
- ‘Objects uncouth, to check the genial joy?
- Enough of these our court already grace,
- Of giant stomach, and of famish’d face.
- Such guests Eumæus to his country brings,
- To share our feast, and lead the life of Kings.’
- To whom the hospitable swain rejoin’d:
- ‘Thy passion, Prince, belies thy knowing mind.459
- Who calls, from distant nations to his own,
- The poor, distinguish’d by their wants alone?
- Round the wide world are sought those men divine
- Who public structures raise, or who design;
- Those to whose eyes the Gods their ways reveal,
- Or bless with salutary arts to heal;
- But chief to poets such respect belongs,
- By rival nations courted for their songs:
- These states invite, and mighty Kings admire,
- Wide as the sun displays his vital fire.469
- It is not so with want! how few that feed
- A wretch unhappy, merely for his need!
- Unjust to me, and all that serve the state,
- To love Ulysses is to raise thy hate.
- For me, suffice the approbation won
- Of my great mistress, and her godlike son.’
- To him Telemachus: ‘No more incense
- The man by nature prone to insolence;
- Injurious minds just answers but provoke:’
- Then, turning to Antinoüs, thus he spoke:
- ‘Thanks to thy care! whose absolute command480
- Thus drives the stranger from our court and land.
- Heav’n bless its owner with a better mind!
- From envy free, to charity inclin’d.
- This both Penelope and I afford:
- Then, Prince! be bounteous of Ulysses’ board.
- To give another’s is thy hand so slow?
- So much more sweet to spoil than to bestow?’
- ‘Whence, great Telemachus! this lofty strain?’
- (Antinoüs cries with insolent disdain)
- ‘Portions like mine if ev’ry suitor gave,490
- Our walls this twelvemonth should not see the slave.’
- He spoke, and lifting high above the board
- His pond’rous footstool, shook it at his lord.
- The rest with equal hand conferr’d the bread; }
- He fill’d his scrip, and to the threshold sped; }
- But first before Antinoüs stopp’d, and said: }
- ‘Bestow, my Friend! thou dost not seem the worst
- Of all the Greeks, but prince-like and the first;
- Then, as in dignity, be first in worth,
- And I shall praise thee thro’ the boundless earth.500
- Once I enjoy’d in luxury of state
- Whate’er gives man the envied name of great;
- Wealth, servants, friends, were mine in better days;
- And hospitality was then my praise;
- In ev’ry sorrowing soul I pour’d delight,
- And Poverty stood smiling in my sight.
- But Jove, all-governing, whose only will
- Determines Fate, and mingles good with ill,
- Sent me (to punish my pursuit of gain)509
- With roving pirates o’er th’ Ægyptian main:
- By Ægypt’s silver flood our ships we moor;
- Our spies commission’d straight the coast explore;
- But, impotent of mind, with lawless will
- The country ravage and the natives kill.
- The spreading clamour to their city flies,
- And horse and foot in mingled tumult rise:
- The redd’ning dawn reveals the hostile fields
- Horrid with bristly spears, and gleaming shields:
- Jove thunder’d on their side: our guilty head }
- We turn’d to flight; the gath’ring vengeance spread520 }
- On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lay dead. }
- Some few the foe in servitude detain;
- Death ill-exchanged for bondage and for pain!
- Unhappy me a Cyprian took aboard,
- And gave to Dmetor, Cyprus’ haughty lord:
- Hither, to ’scape his chains, my course I steer,
- Still curs’d by fortune, and insulted here!’
- To whom Antinous thus his rage express’d:
- ‘What God has plagued us with this gormand guest?
- Unless at distance, Wretch! thou keep behind,530 }
- Another isle, than Cyprus more unkind, }
- Another Ægypt, shalt thou quickly find. }
- From all thou begg’st, a bold audacious slave;
- Nor all can give so much as thou canst crave.
- Nor wonder I at such profusion shown;
- Shameless they give, who give what ’s not their own.’
- The Chief, retiring, ‘Souls, like that in thee,
- Ill suit such forms of grace and dignity.538
- Nor will that hand to utmost need afford
- The smallest portion of a wasteful board,
- Whose luxury whole patrimonies sweeps,
- Yet starving want, amidst the riot, weeps.’
- The haughty suitor with resentment burns,
- And, sourly smiling, this reply returns:
- ‘Take that, ere yet thou quit this princely throng; }
- And dumb for ever be thy sland’rous tongue!’ }
- He said, and high the whirling tripod flung. }
- His shoulder-blade receiv’d th’ ungentle shock:
- He stood, and moved not, like a marble rock;
- But shook his thoughtful head, nor more complain’d,550
- Sedate of soul, his character sustain’d,
- And inly form’d revenge: then back withdrew: }
- Before his feet the well-fill’d scrip he threw, }
- And thus with semblance mild address’d the crew: }
- ‘May what I speak your princely minds approve,
- Ye Peers and Rivals in this noble love!
- Not for the hurt I grieve, but for the cause.
- If, when the sword our country’s quarrel draws,
- Or if, defending what is justly dear, }
- From Mars impartial some broad wound we bear,560 }
- The gen’rous motive dignifies the scar. }
- But for mere want, how hard to suffer wrong!
- Want brings enough of other ills along!
- Yet, if unjustice never be secure,
- If fiends revenge, and Gods assert the poor,
- Death shall lay low the proud aggressor’s head,
- And make the dust Antinoüs’ bridal bed.’
- ‘Peace, wretch! and eat thy bread without offence’
- (The suitor cried), ‘or force shall drag thee hence,
- Scourge thro’ the public street, and cast thee there,570
- A mangled carcass for the hounds to tear.’
- His furious deed the gen’ral anger mov’d;
- All, ev’n the worst, condemn’d: and some reprov’d.
- ‘Was ever Chief for wars like these renown’d?
- Ill fits the stranger and the poor to wound.
- Unbless’d thy hand, if, in this low disguise,
- Wander, perhaps, some inmate of the skies:
- They (curious oft of mortal actions) deign
- In forms like these to round the earth and main,
- Just and unjust recording in their mind,580
- And with sure eyes inspecting all mankind.’
- Telemachus, absorb’d in thought severe,
- Nourish’d deep anguish, tho’ he shed no tear;
- But the dark brow of silent sorrow shook:
- While thus his mother to her virgins spoke:
- ‘On him and his may the bright God of Day
- That base inhospitable blow repay!’
- The nurse replies: ‘If Jove receives my prayer,
- Not one survives to breathe to-morrow’s air.’
- ‘All, all are foes, and mischief is their end;590
- Antinoüs most to gloomy death a friend’
- (Replies the Queen): ‘the stranger begg’d their grace,
- And melting pity soften’d ev’ry face;
- From ev’ry other hand redress he found,
- But fell Antinoüs answer’d with a wound.’
- Amidst her maids thus spoke the prudent Queen,
- Then bade Eumæus call the pilgrim in.
- ‘Much of th’ experienc’d man I long to hear,
- If or his certain eye, or list’ning ear,
- Have learn’d the fortunes of my wand’ring lord?’600
- Thus she, and good Eumæus took the word:
- ‘A private audience if thy grace impart,
- The stranger’s words may ease the royal heart.
- His sacred eloquence in balm distils,
- And the soothed heart with secret pleasure fills.
- Three days have spent their beams, three nights have run
- Their silent journey since his tale begun,
- Unfinish’d yet; and yet I thirst to hear!
- As when some Heav’n-taught poet charms the ear
- (Suspending sorrow with celestial strain610
- Breathed from the Gods to soften human pain),
- Time steals away with unregarded wing,
- And the soul hears him, tho’ he cease to sing.
- ‘Ulysses late he saw, on Cretan ground
- (His father’s guest), for Minos’ birth renown’d.
- He now but waits the wind, to waft him o’er,
- With boundless treasure, from Thesprotia’s shore.’
- To this the Queen: ‘The wand’rer let me hear,
- While yon luxurious race indulge their cheer,619
- Devour the grazing ox, and browsing goat,
- And turn my gen’rous vintage down their throat.
- For where ’s an arm, like thine, Ulysses! strong,
- To curb wild riot, and to punish wrong?’
- She spoke. Telemachus then sneez’d aloud;
- Constrain’d, his nostril echoed thro’ the crowd.
- The smiling Queen the happy omen bless’d:
- ‘So may these impious fall, by Fate oppress’d!’
- Then to Eumæus: ‘Bring the stranger, fly!
- And if my questions meet a true reply,
- Graced with a decent robe he shall retire,630
- A gift in season which his wants require.’
- Thus spoke Penelope. Eumæus flies
- In duteous haste, and to Ulysses cries:
- ‘The Queen invites thee, venerable Guest!
- A secret instinct moves her troubled breast,
- Of her long absent lord from thee to gain
- Some light, and soothe her soul’s eternal pain.
- If true, if faithful thou, her grateful mind
- Of decent robes a present has design’d:
- So finding favour in the royal eye,640
- Thy other wants her subjects shall supply.’
- ‘Fair truth alone’ (the patient man replied)
- ‘My words shall dictate, and my lips shall guide.
- To him, to me, one common lot was giv’n,
- In equal woes, alas! involv’d by Heav’n.
- Much of his fates I know: but check’d by fear
- I stand; the hand of violence is here:
- Here boundless wrongs the starry skies invade,
- And injured suppliants seek in vain for aid.
- Let for a space the pensive Queen attend,650
- Nor claim my story till the sun descend;
- Then in such robes as suppliants may require,
- Composed and cheerful by the genial fire,
- When loud uproar and lawless riot cease,
- Shall her pleas’d ear receive my words in peace.’
- Swift to the Queen returns the gentle swain:
- ‘And say’ (she cries), ‘does fear, or shame, detain
- The cautious stranger? With the begging kind
- Shame suits but ill.’ Eumæus thus rejoin’d:659
- ‘He only asks a more propitious hour,
- And shuns (who would not?) wicked men in power;
- At ev’ning mild (meet season to confer),
- By turns to question, and by turns to hear.’
- ‘Whoe’er this guest’ (the prudent Queen replies),
- ‘His ev’ry step and ev’ry thought is wise.
- For men like these on earth he shall not find
- In all the miscreant race of human kind.’
- Thus she. Eumæus all her words attends,
- And, parting, to the suitor powers descends;669
- There seeks Telemachus, and thus apart
- In whispers breathes the fondness of his heart:
- ‘The time, my lord, invites me to repair
- Hence to the lodge; my charge demands my care.
- These sons of murder thirst thy life to take;
- O guard it, guard it, for thy servants’ sake!’
- ‘Thanks to my friend’ (he cries); ‘but now the hour
- Of night draws on; go seek the rural bower:
- But first refresh; and at the dawn of day
- Hither a victim to the Gods convey.
- Our life to Heav’n’s immortal Powers we trust,680
- Safe in their care, for Heav’n protects the just.’
- Observant of his voice, Eumæus sate,
- And fed recumbent on a chair of state.
- Then instant rose, and, as he mov’d along, }
- ’T was riot all amid the suitor throng: }
- They feast, they dance, and raise the mirthful song. }
- Till now, declining toward the close of day,
- The sun obliquely shot his dewy ray.

BOOK XXI

THE BENDING OF ULYSSES’ BOW

ARGUMENT

Penelope, to put an end to the solicitations of the suitors, proposes to marry the person who shall first bend the bow of Ulysses, and shoot through the ringlets. After their attempts have proved ineffectual, Ulysses, taking Eumæus and Philætius apart, discovers himself to them; then returning, desires leave to try his strength at the bow, which, though refused with indignation by the suitors, Penelope and Telemachus cause to be delivered to his hands. He bends it immediately, and shoots through all the rings. Jupiter at the same instant thunders from heaven; Ulysses accepts the omen, and gives a sign to Telemachus, who stands ready armed at his side.

- And Pallas now, to raise the rivals’ fires,
- With her own art Penelope inspires:
- Who now can bend Ulysses’ bow, and wing
- The well-aim’d arrow thro’ the distant ring,
- Shall end the strife, and win th’ imperial dame;
- But discord and black death await the game!
- The prudent Queen the lofty stair ascends;
- At distance due a virgin-train attends:
- A brazen key she held, the handle turn’d,
- With steel and polish’d elephant adorn’d:10
- Swift to the inmost room she bent her way,
- Where, safe reposed, the royal treasures lay;
- There shone high heap’d the labour’d brass and ore,
- And there the bow which great Ulysses bore;
- And there the quiver, where now guiltless slept
- Those winged deaths that many a matron wept.
- This gift, long since when Sparta’s shores he trod,
- On young Ulysses Iphitus bestow’d:
- Beneath Orsilochus’s roof they met;
- One loss was private, one a public debt;20
- Messena’s state from Ithaca detains
- Three hundred sheep, and all the shepherd swains;
- And to the youthful Prince to urge the laws,
- The King and elders trust their common cause.
- But Iphitus, employ’d on other cares,
- Search’d the wide country for his wand’ring mares,
- And mules, the strongest of the lab’ring kind;
- Hapless to search! more hapless still to find!
- For journeying on to Hercules, at length
- That lawless wretch, that man of brutal strength,30
- Deaf to Heav’n’s voice, the social rite transgress’d;
- And for the beauteous mares destroy’d his guest.
- He gave the bow; and on Ulysses’ part
- Receiv’d a pointed sword, and missile dart:
- Of luckless friendship on a foreign shore
- Their first, last pledges! for they met no more.
- The bow, bequeath’d by this unhappy hand,
- Ulysses bore not from his native land;
- Nor in the front of battle taught to bend,
- But kept in dear memorial of his friend.40
- Now, gently winding up the far ascent,
- By many an easy step, the matron went;
- Then o’er the pavement glides with grace divine
- (With polish’d oak the level pavements shine);
- The folding gates a dazzling light display’d,
- With pomp of various architrave o’erlaid.
- The bolt, obedient to the silken string,
- Forsakes the staple as she pulls the ring;
- The wards respondent to the key turn round;
- The bars fall back; the flying valves resound;50
- Loud as a bull makes hill and valley ring,
- So roar’d the lock when it releas’d the spring.
- She moves majestic thro’ the wealthy room,
- Where treasured garments cast a rich perfume;
- There from the column, where aloft it hung,
- Reach’d, in its splendid case, the bow unstrung;
- Across her knees she laid the well-known bow,
- And pensive sate, and tears began to flow.
- To full satiety of grief she mourns,
- Then silent to the joyous hall returns;60
- To the proud suitors bears in pensive state
- Th’ unbended bow, and arrows wing’d with fate.
- Behind, her train the polish’d coffer brings,
- Which held th’ alternate brass and silver rings.
- Full in the portal the chaste Queen appears,
- And with her veil conceals the coming tears:
- On either side awaits a virgin fair;
- While thus the matron, with majestic air:
- ‘Say you, whom these forbidden walls inclose,
- For whom my victims bleed, my vintage flows,70
- If these neglected, faded charms can move?
- Or is it but a vain pretence you love?
- If I the prize, if me you seek to wife,
- Hear the conditions, and commence the strife.
- Who first Ulysses’ wondrous bow shall bend,
- And thro’ twelve ringlets the fleet arrow send,
- Him will I follow, and forsake my home,
- For him forsake this lov’d, this wealthy dome,
- Long, long the scene of all my past delight,
- And still to last the vision of my night!’80
- Graceful she said, and bade Eumæus show
- The rival Peers the ringlets and the bow.
- From his full eyes the tears unbidden spring,
- Touch’d at the dear memorials of his King.
- Philætius too relents, but secret shed
- The tender drops. Antinoüs saw, and said:
- ‘Hence to your fields, ye Rustics! hence away,
- Nor stain with grief the pleasures of the day:
- Nor to the royal heart recall in vain
- The sad remembrance of a perish’d man.90
- Enough her precious tears already flow: }
- Or share the feast with due respect, or go }
- To weep abroad, and leave to us the bow: }
- No vulgar task! Ill suits this courtly crew
- That stubborn horn which brave Ulysses drew.
- I well remember (for I gazed him o’er
- While yet a child), what majesty he bore!
- And still (all infant as I was) retain
- The port, the strength, the grandeur of the man.’99
- He said, but in his soul fond joys arise,
- And his proud hopes already win the prize.
- To speed the flying shaft thro’ ev’ry ring, }
- Wretch! is not thine: the arrows of the King }
- Shall end those hopes, and fate is on the wing! }
- Then thus Telemachus: ‘Some God I find
- With pleasing frenzy has possess’d my mind;
- When a lov’d mother threatens to depart,
- Why with this ill-timed gladness leaps my heart?
- Come then, ye suitors! and dispute a prize
- Richer than all th’ Achaian state supplies,110
- Than all proud Argos or Mycæne knows,
- Than all our isles or continents inclose:
- A woman matchless, and almost divine,
- Fit for the praise of ev’ry tongue but mine.
- No more excuses then, no more delay;
- Haste to the trial—Lo! I lead the way.
- ‘I too may try, and if this arm can wing
- The feather’d arrow thro’ the destin’d ring,
- Then, if no happier knight the conquest boast,
- I shall not sorrow for a mother lost;120
- But, bless’d in her, possess these arms alone,
- Heir of my father’s strength, as well as throne.’
- He spoke; then, rising, his broad sword unbound,
- And cast his purple garment on the ground.
- A trench he open’d; in a line he placed
- The level axes, and the points made fast.
- (His perfect skill the wond’ring gazers eyed,
- The game as yet unseen, as yet untried.)
- Then, with a manly pace, he took his stand,
- And grasp’d the bow, and twang’d it in his hand.130
- Three times, with beating heart, he made essay;
- Three times, unequal to the task, gave way;
- A modest boldness on his cheek appear’d;
- And thrice he hoped, and thrice again he fear’d.
- The fourth had drawn it. The great Sire with joy
- Beheld, but with a sign forbade the boy.
- His ardour straight th’ obedient Prince suppress’d,
- And, artful, thus the suitor-train address’d:
- ‘O lay the cause on youth yet immature
- (For Heav’n forbid such weakness should endure)!140
- How shall this arm, unequal to the bow,
- Retort an insult, or repel a foe?
- But you! whom Heav’n with better nerves has bless’d,
- Accept the trial, and the prize contest.’
- He cast the bow before him, and apart
- Against the polish’d quiver propp’d the dart.
- Resuming then his seat, Eupithes’ son,
- The bold Antinoüs, to the rest begun:
- ‘From where the goblet first begins to flow,
- From right to left in order take the bow;
- And prove your sev’ral strengths.’—The Princes heard,151
- And first Leiodes, blameless priest, appear’d:
- The eldest born of Œnops’ noble race,
- Who next the goblet held his holy place;
- He, only he, of all the suitor throng,
- Their deeds detested, and abjured the wrong.
- With tender hands the stubborn horn he strains,
- The stubborn horn resisted all his pains!
- Already in despair he gives it o’er:
- ‘Take it who will’ (he cries), ‘I strive no more.160
- What numerous deaths attend this fatal bow!
- What souls and spirits shall it send below!
- Better, indeed, to die, and fairly give
- Nature her debt, than disappointed live,
- With each new sun to some new hope a prey,
- Yet still to-morrow falser than to-day.
- How long in vain Penelope we sought!
- This bow shall ease us of that idle thought,
- And send us with some humbler wife to live,
- Whom gold shall gain, or destiny shall give.’170
- Thus speaking, on the floor the bow he placed
- (With rich inlay the various floor was graced);
- At distance far the feather’d shaft he throws,
- And to the seat returns from whence he rose.
- To him Antinoüs thus with fury said:
- ‘What words ill-omen’d from thy lips have fled?
- Thy coward-function ever is in fear;
- Those arms are dreadful which thou canst not bear.
- Why should this bow be fatal to the brave,
- Because the priest is born a peaceful slave?180
- Mark then what others can.’ He ended there,
- And bade Melanthius a vast pile prepare;
- He gives it instant flame, then fast beside
- Spreads o’er an ample board a bullock’s hide.
- With melted lard they soak the weapon o’er,
- Chafe ev’ry knot, and supple ev’ry pore.
- Vain all their art, and all their strength as vain:
- The bow inflexible resists their pain.
- The force of great Eurymachus alone,189
- And bold Antinoüs, yet untried, unknown,
- Those only now remain’d; but those confess’d
- Of all the train the mightiest and the best.
- Then from the hall, and from the noisy crew,
- The masters of the herd and flock withdrew.
- The King observes them; he the hall forsakes,
- And past the limits of the court o’ertakes.
- Then thus with accent mild Ulysses spoke:
- ‘Ye faithful guardians of the herd and flock!
- Shall I the secret of my breast conceal,199
- Or (as my soul now dictates) shall I tell?
- Say, should some fav’ring God restore again
- The lost Ulysses to his native reign,
- How beat your hearts? what aid would you afford
- To the proud suitors, or your ancient lord?’
- Philætius thus: ‘O were thy word not vain!
- Would mighty Jove restore that man again!
- These aged sinews, with new vigour strung,
- In his blest cause should emulate the young.’
- With equal vows Eumæus too implor’d
- Each power above, with wishes for his lord.210
- He saw their secret souls, and thus began:
- ‘Those vows the Gods accord; behold the man!
- Your own Ulysses! twice ten years detain’d
- By woes and wand’rings from this hapless land:
- At length he comes; but comes despised, unknown,
- And finding faithful you, and you alone.
- All else have cast him from their very thought,
- Ev’n in their wishes and their prayers forgot!
- Hear then, my friends: If Jove this arm succeed,
- And give you impious revellers to bleed,220
- My care shall be to bless your future lives
- With large possessions and with faithful wives:
- Fast by my palace shall your domes ascend, }
- And each on young Telemachus attend, }
- And each be call’d his brother and my friend. }
- To give you firmer faith, now trust your eye;
- Lo! the broad scar indented on my thigh,
- When with Autolycus’s sons, of yore,
- On Parnass’ top I chased the tusky boar.’
- His ragged vest then drawn aside, disclosed230
- The sign conspicuous, and the scar exposed;
- Eager they view’d; with joy they stood amazed;
- With tearful eyes o’er all their master gazed:
- Around his neck their longing arms they cast,
- His head, his shoulders, and his knees embraced;
- Tears follow’d tears; no word was in their power;
- In solemn silence fell the kindly shower.
- The King too weeps, the King too grasps their hands,
- And moveless, as a marble fountain, stands.
- Thus had their joy wept down the setting sun,240
- But first the wise man ceas’d, and thus begun:
- ‘Enough—on other cares your thought employ,
- For danger waits on all untimely joy.
- Full many foes, and fierce, observe us near;
- Some may betray, and yonder walls may hear.
- Re-enter then, not all at once, but stay
- Some moments you, and let me lead the way.
- To me, neglected as I am, I know
- The haughty suitors will deny the bow;
- But thou, Eumæus, as ’t is borne away,250
- Thy master’s weapon to his hand convey.
- At ev’ry portal let some matron wait,
- And each lock fast the well-compacted gate:
- Close let them keep, whate’er invades their ear;
- Tho’ arms, or shouts, or dying groans they hear.
- To thy strict charge, Philætius, we consign
- The court’s main gate; to guard that pass be thine.’
- This said, he first return’d; the faithful swains
- At distance follow, as their King ordains.
- Before the flame Eurymachus now stands,
- And turns the bow, and chafes it with his hands;261
- Still the tough bow unmov’d. The lofty man
- Sigh’d from his mighty soul, and thus began:
- ‘I mourn the common cause: for, oh my friends!
- On me, on all, what grief, what shame attends!
- Not the lost nuptials can affect me more
- (For Greece has beauteous dames on ev’ry shore),
- But baffled thus! confess’d so far below
- Ulysses’ strength, as not to bend his bow!
- How shall all ages our attempt deride!270
- Our weakness scorn!’ Antinoüs thus replied:
- ‘Not so, Eurymachus: that no man draws
- The wondrous bow, attend another cause.
- Sacred to Phœbus is the solemn day,
- Which thoughtless we in games would waste away;
- Till the next dawn this ill-timed strife forego,
- And here leave fix’d the ringlets in a row.
- Now bid the sewer approach, then let us join
- In due libations, and in rites divine;
- So end our night; before the day shall spring,280
- The choicest off’rings let Melanthius bring;
- Let then to Phœbus’ name the fatted thighs
- Feed the rich smokes, high curling to the skies.
- So shall the patron of these arts bestow
- (For his the gift) the skill to bend the bow.’
- They heard well pleas’d; the ready heralds bring
- The cleansing waters from the limpid spring;
- The goblet high with rosy wine they crown’d,
- In order circling to the peers around.
- That rite complete, uprose the thoughtful man,290
- And thus his meditated scheme began;
- ‘If what I ask your noble minds approve,
- Ye Peers and Rivals in the royal love!
- Chief, if it hurt not great Antinoüs’ ear
- (Whose sage decision I with wonder hear),
- And if Eurymachus the motion please,
- Give Heav’n this day, and rest the bow in peace.
- To-morrow let your arms dispute the prize,
- And take it he, the favour’d of the skies!
- But, since till then this trial you delay,300
- Trust it one moment to my hands to-day:
- Fain would I prove, before your judging eyes,
- What once I was, whom wretched you despise;
- If yet this arm its ancient force retain; }
- Or if my woes (a long-continued train) }
- And wants and insults, make me less than man.’ }
- Rage flash’d in lightning from the suitors’ eyes,
- Yet mix’d with terror at the bold emprise.
- Antinoüs then: ‘O miserable guest!
- Is common sense quite banish’d from thy breast?310
- Sufficed it not, within the palace placed,
- To sit distinguish’d, with our presence graced,
- Admitted here with Princes to confer,
- A man unknown, a needy wanderer?
- To copious wine this insolence we owe,
- And much thy betters wine can overthrow:
- The great Eurytion when this frenzy stung,
- Pirithoüs’ roofs with frantic riot rung;
- Boundless the Centaur raged; till one and all
- The heroes rose, and dragg’d him from the hall:320
- His nose they shorten’d, and his ears they slit,
- And sent him sober’d home, with better wit.
- Hence with long war the double race was curs’d
- Fatal to all, but to th’ aggressor first.
- Such fate I prophesy our guest attends,
- If here this interdicted bow he bends:
- Nor shall these walls such insolence contain;
- The first fair wind transports him o’er the main;
- Where Echetus to death the guilty brings
- (The worst of mortals, ev’n the worst of Kings).330
- Better than that, if thou approve our cheer,
- Cease the mad strife, and share our bounty here.’
- To this the Queen her just dislike express’d:
- ‘’T is impious, Prince, to harm the stranger-guest;
- Base to insult who bears a suppliant’s name,
- And some respect Telemachus may claim.
- What if th’ Immortals on the man bestow
- Sufficient strength to draw the mighty bow?
- Shall I, a Queen, by rival chiefs ador’d,
- Accept a wand’ring stranger for my lord?340
- A hope so idle never touch’d his brain:
- Then ease your bosom of a fear so vain.
- Far be he banish’d from this stately scene
- Who wrongs his Princess with a thought so mean.’
- ‘O Fair! and wisest of so fair a kind!’
- (Respectful thus Eurymachus rejoin’d)
- ‘Mov’d by no weak surmise, but sense of shame,
- We dread the all-arraigning voice of Fame:
- We dread the censure of the meanest slave,
- The weakest woman: all can wrong the brave.350
- “Behold what wretches to the bed pretend
- Of that brave Chief, whose bow they could not bend!
- In came a beggar of the strolling crew,
- And did what all those Princes could not do.”
- Thus will the common voice our deed defame,
- And thus posterity upbraid our name.’
- To whom the Queen: ‘If Fame engage your views,
- Forbear those acts which Infamy pursues;
- Wrong and oppression no renown can raise;
- Know, Friend! that virtue is the path to praise.360
- The stature of our guest, his port, his face,
- Speak him descended from no vulgar race.
- To him the bow, as he desires, convey;
- And to his hand if Phœbus give the day,
- Hence, to reward his merit, he shall bear
- A two-edg’d faulchion and a shining spear,
- Embroider’d sandals, a rich cloak and vest,
- And safe conveyance to his port of rest.’
- ‘O royal Mother! ever-honour’d name!
- Permit me’ (cries Telemachus) ‘to claim
- A son’s just right. No Grecian Prince but I371
- Has power this bow to grant, or to deny!
- Of all that Ithaca’s rough hills contain,
- And all wide Elis’ courser-breeding plain,
- To me alone my father’s arms descend;
- And mine alone they are, to give or lend.
- Retire, O Queen! thy household task resume,
- Tend, with thy maids, the labours of thy loom;
- The bow, the darts, and arms of chivalry,
- These cares to man belong, and most to me.’380
- Mature beyond his years, the Queen admired
- His sage reply, and with her train retired;
- There in her chamber as she sate apart,
- Revolv’d his words, and placed them in her heart.
- On her Ulysses then she fix’d her soul;
- Down her fair cheek the tears abundant roll,
- Till gentle Pallas, piteous of her cries,
- In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes.
- Now thro’ the press the bow Eumæus bore,
- And all was riot, noise, and wild uproar.390
- ‘Hold! lawless rustic! whither wilt thou go?
- To whom, insensate, dost thou bear the bow?
- Exil’d for this to some sequester’d den,
- Far from the sweet society of men,
- To thy own dogs a prey thou shalt be made;
- If Heav’n and Phœbus lend the suitors aid.’
- Thus they. Aghast he laid the weapon down,
- But bold Telemachus thus urged him on:
- ‘Proceed, false slave, and slight their empty words;
- What! hopes the fool to please so many lords?400
- Young as I am, thy Prince’s vengeful hand
- Stretch’d forth in wrath shall drive thee from the land.
- Oh! could the vigour of this arm as well
- Th’ oppressive suitors from my walls expel!
- Then what a shoal of lawless men should go
- To fill with tumult the dark courts below!’
- The suitors with a scornful smile survey
- The youth, indulging in the genial day.
- Eumæus, thus encouraged, hastes to bring
- The strifeful bow, and gives it to the King.410
- Old Euryclea calling then aside,
- ‘Hear what Telemachus enjoins’ (he cried):
- ‘At ev’ry portal let some matron wait,
- And each lock fast the well-compacted gate;
- And if unusual sounds invade their ear,
- If arms, or shouts, or dying groans they hear,
- Let none to call or issue forth presume,
- But close attend the labours of the loom.’
- Her prompt obedience on his order waits;419
- Closed in an instant were the palace gates.
- In the same moment forth Philætius flies,
- Secures the court, and with a cable ties
- The utmost gate (the cable strongly wrought
- Of Byblos’ reed, a ship from Egypt brought);
- Then unperceiv’d and silent at the board
- His seat he takes, his eyes upon his lord.
- And now his well-known bow the Master bore,
- Turn’d on all sides, and view’d it o’er and o’er;
- Lest time or worms had done the weapon wrong,
- Its owner absent, and untried so long.430
- While some deriding: ‘How he turns the bow!
- Some other like it sure the man must know,
- Or else would copy; or in bows he deals;
- Perhaps he makes them, or perhaps he steals.’—
- ‘Heav’n to this wretch’ (another cried) ‘be kind! }
- And bless, in all to which he stands inclin’d, }
- With such good fortune as he now shall find.’ }
- Heedless he heard them: but disdain’d reply,
- The bow perusing with exactest eye.
- Then, as some heav’nly minstrel, taught to sing440
- High notes responsive to the trembling string,
- To some new strain when he adapts the lyre,
- Or the dumb lute refits with vocal wire,
- Relaxes, strains, and draws them to and fro;
- So the great master drew the mighty bow:
- And drew with ease. One hand aloft display’d
- The bending horns, and one the string essay’d.
- From his essaying hand the string let fly
- Twang’d short and sharp like the shrill swallow’s cry.
- A gen’ral horror ran thro’ all the race,450
- Sunk was each heart, and pale was ev’ry face.
- Signs from above ensued: th’ unfolding sky
- In lightning burst; Jove thunder’d from on high.
- Fired at the call of Heav’n’s almighty Lord,
- He snatch’d the shaft that glitter’d on the board
- (Fast by, the rest lay sleeping in the sheath,
- But soon to fly, the messengers of Death).
- Now, sitting as he was, the cord he drew,
- Thro’ every ringlet levelling his view;
- Then notch’d the shaft, releas’d, and gave it wing;460 }
- The whizzing arrow vanish’d from the string, }
- Sung on direct, and threaded ev’ry ring. }
- The solid gate its fury scarcely bounds;
- Pierc’d thro’ and thro’, the solid gate resounds.
- Then to the Prince: ‘Nor have I wrought thee shame;
- Nor err’d this hand unfaithful to its aim;
- Nor prov’d the toil too hard; nor have I lost
- That ancient vigour once my pride and boast.
- Ill I deserv’d these haughty Peers’ disdain;
- Now let them comfort their dejected train,470
- In sweet repast their present hour employ
- Nor wait till ev’ning for the genial joy:
- Then to the lute’s soft voice prolong the night;
- Music, the banquet’s most refin’d delight.’
- He said, then gave a nod; and at the word
- Telemachus girds on his shining sword.
- Fast by his father’s side he takes his stand:
- The beamy jav’lin lightens in his hand.

BOOK XXII

THE DEATH OF THE SUITORS

ARGUMENT

Ulysses begins the slaughter of the suitors by the death of Antinoüs. He declares himself, and lets fly his arrows at the rest. Telemachus assists, and brings arms for his father, himself, Eumæus, and Philætius. Melanthius does the same for the wooers. Minerva encourages Ulysses in the shape of Mentor. The suitors are all slain, only Medon and Phemius are spared. Melanthius and the unfaithful servants are executed. The rest acknowledge their master with all demonstrations of joy.

- Then fierce the Hero o’er the threshold strode;
- Stripp’d of his rags, he blazed out like a God.
- Full in their face the lifted bow he bore,
- And quiver’d deaths, a formidable store;
- Before his feet the rattling shower he threw,
- And thus, terrific, to the suitor-crew:
- ‘One venturous game this hand hath won to-day,
- Another, Princes! yet remains to play;
- Another mark our arrow must attain.
- Phœbus, assist! nor be the labour vain.’10
- Swift as the word the parting arrow sings,
- And bears thy fate, Antinoüs, on its wings:
- Wretch that he was, of unprophetic soul!
- High in his hands he rear’d the golden bowl!
- Ev’n then to drain it lengthen’d out his breath;
- Changed to the deep, the bitter draught of death:
- For Fate who fear’d amidst a fastful band?
- And Fate to numbers, by a single hand?
- Full thro’ his throat Ulysses’ weapon pass’d,
- And pierc’d his neck. He falls, and breathes his last.20
- The tumbling goblet the wide floor o’erflows,
- A stream of gore burst spouting from his nose;
- Grim in convulsive agonies he sprawls:
- Before him spurn’d the loaded table falls,
- And spreads the pavement with a mingled flood
- Of floating meats, and wine, and human blood.
- Amazed, confounded, as they saw him fall,
- Up rose the throngs tumultuous round the hall:
- O’er all the dome they cast a haggard eye,
- Each look’d for arms: in vain; no arms were nigh:30
- ‘Aim’st thou at Princes?’ (all amazed they said)
- ‘Thy last of games unhappy hast thou play’d;
- Thy erring shaft has made our bravest bleed,
- And Death, unlucky guest, attends thy deed.
- Vultures shall tear thee.’ Thus incens’d they spoke,
- While each to chance ascribed the wondrous stroke,
- Blind as they were; for Death even now invades
- His destin’d prey, and wraps them all in shades.
- Then, grimly frowning, with a dreadful look,
- That wither’d all their hearts, Ulysses spoke:40
- ‘Dogs, ye have had your day! ye fear’d no more
- Ulysses vengeful from the Trojan shore;
- While, to your lust and spoil a guardless prey,
- Our house, our wealth, our helpless handmaids lay:
- Not so content, with bolder frenzy fired,
- Ev’n to our bed presumptuous you aspired:
- Laws or divine or human fail’d to move,
- Or shame of men, or dread of Gods above;
- Heedless alike of infamy or praise,
- Or Fame’s eternal voice in future days,50
- The hour of vengeance, wretches, now is come;
- Impending fate is yours, and instant doom.’
- Thus dreadful he. Confused the suitors stood;
- From their pale cheeks recedes the flying blood:
- Trembling they sought their guilty heads to hide;
- Alone the bold Eurymachus replied:
- ‘If, as thy words import’ (he thus began),
- ‘Ulysses lives, and thou the mighty man,
- Great are thy wrongs, and much hast thou sustain’d59
- In thy spoil’d palace, and exhausted land;
- The cause and author of those guilty deeds,
- Lo! at thy feet unjust Antinoüs bleeds.
- Not love, but wild ambition was his guide; }
- To slay thy son, thy kingdoms to divide, }
- These were his aims; but juster Jove denied. }
- Since cold in death th’ offender lies, oh spare
- Thy suppliant people, and receive their prayer!
- Brass, gold, and treasures, shall the spoil defray, }
- Two hundred oxen ev’ry Prince shall pay }
- The waste of years refunded in a day.70 }
- Till then thy wrath is just.’ Ulysses burn’d
- With high disdain, and sternly thus return’d:
- ‘All, all the treasures that enrich’d our throne
- Before your rapines, join’d with all your own,
- If offer’d, vainly should for mercy call;
- ’T is you that offer, and I scorn them all:
- Your blood is my demand, your lives the prize,
- Till pale as yonder wretch each suitor lies.
- Hence with those coward terms; or fight or fly;
- This choice is left you to resist or die;80
- And die I trust ye shall.’ He sternly spoke:
- With guilty fears the pale assembly shook.
- Alone Eurymachus exhorts the train:
- ‘Yon archer, comrades, will not shoot in vain;
- But from the threshold shall his darts be sped
- (Whoe’er he be), till ev’ry Prince lie dead?
- Be mindful of yourselves, draw forth your swords,
- And to his shafts obtend these ample boards
- (So need compels). Then, all united, strive
- The bold invader from his post to drive;90
- The city rous’d shall to our rescue haste,
- And this mad archer soon have shot his last.’
- Swift as he spoke, he drew his traitor sword,
- And like a lion rush’d against his lord:
- The wary Chief the rushing foe repress’d,
- Who met the point and forc’d it in his breast:
- His falling hand deserts the lifted sword,
- And prone he falls extended o’er the board!
- Before him wide, in mix’d effusion, roll
- Th’ untasted viands, and the jovial bowl.100
- Full thro’ his liver pass’d the mortal wound,
- With dying rage his forehead beats the ground;
- He spurn’d the seat with fury as he fell,
- And the fierce soul to darkness dived, and Hell.
- Next bold Amphinomus his arms extends
- To force the pass; the godlike man defends.
- Thy spear, Telemachus, prevents th’ attack;
- The brazen weapon, driving thro’ his back,
- Thence thro’ his breast its bloody passage tore;109 }
- Flat falls he thund’ring on the marble floor, }
- And his crush’d forehead marks the stone with gore. }
- He left his jav’lin in the dead, for fear
- The long encumbrance of the weighty spear
- To the fierce foe advantage might afford,
- To rush between, and use the shorten’d sword.
- With speedy ardour to his sire he flies,
- And, ‘Arm, great Father! arm’ (in haste he cries):
- ‘Lo! hence I run for other arms to wield,
- For missive jav’lins, and for helm and shield;119
- Fast by our side, let either faithful swain
- In arms attend us, and their part sustain.’
- ‘Haste, and return’ (Ulysses made reply),
- ‘While yet th’ auxiliar shafts this hand supply;
- Lest thou alone, encounter’d by an host,
- Driv’n from the gate, th’ important pass be lost.’
- With speed Telemachus obeys, and flies
- Where piled in heaps the royal armour lies;
- Four brazen helmets, eight refulgent spears,
- And four broad bucklers to his sire he bears:
- At once in brazen panoply they shone,130
- At once each servant braced his armour on;
- Around their King a faithful guard they stand,
- While yet each shaft flew deathful from his hand:
- Chief after chief expired at ev’ry wound,
- And swell’d the bleeding mountain on the ground.
- Soon as his store of flying fates was spent,
- Against the wall he set the bow unbent;
- And now his shoulders bear the massy shield,
- And now his hands two beamy jav’lins wield:
- He frowns beneath his nodding plume, that play’d140
- O’er the high crest, and cast a dreadful shade.
- There stood a window near, whence, looking down
- From o’er the porch, appear’d the subject town.
- A double strength of valves secured the place,
- A high and narrow, but the only pass:
- The cautious King, with all preventing care,
- To guard that outlet, placed Eumæus there:
- When Agelaüs thus: ‘Has none the sense
- To mount yon window, and alarm from thence
- The neighbour-town? the town shall force the door,150
- And this bold archer soon shall shoot no more.’
- Melanthius then: ‘That outlet to the gate
- So near adjoins that one may guard the strait.
- But other methods of defence remain;
- Myself with arms can furnish all the train;
- Stores from the royal magazine I bring,
- And their own darts shall pierce the Prince and King.’
- He said: and mounting up the lofty stairs,
- Twelve shields, twelve lances, and twelve helmets bears:
- All arm, and sudden round the hall appears160
- A blaze of bucklers, and a wood of spears.
- The Hero stands oppress’d with mighty woe,
- On ev’ry side he sees the labour grow:
- ‘Oh curs’d event! and oh unlook’d-for aid!
- Melanthius or the women have betray’d—
- Oh my dear son!’—The father with a sigh
- Then ceas’d; the filial virtue made reply:
- ‘Falsehood is folly, and ’t is just to own
- The fault committed: this was mine alone;
- My haste neglected yonder door to bar,170
- And hence the villain has supplied their war.
- Run, good Eumæus, then, and (what before
- I thoughtless err’d in) well secure that door:
- Learn, if by female fraud this deed were done,
- Or (as my thought misgives) by Dolius’ son.’
- While yet they spoke, in quest of arms again
- To the high chamber stole the faithless swain,
- Not unobserv’d. Eumæus watchful eyed,
- And thus address’d Ulysses near his side:
- ‘The miscreant we suspected takes that way,180
- Him, if this arm be powerful, shall I slay?
- Or drive him hither, to receive the meed
- From thy own hand, of this detested deed?’
- ‘Not so’ (replied Ulysses); ‘leave him there,
- For us sufficient is another care:
- Within the structure of this palace wall
- To keep enclosed his masters till they fall.
- Go you, and seize the felon; backward bind
- His arms and legs, and fix a plank behind;
- On this his body by strong cords extend,190 }
- And on a column near the roof suspend: }
- So studied tortures his vile days shall end.’ }
- The ready swains obey’d with joyful haste;
- Behind the felon unperceiv’d they pass’d,
- As round the room in quest of arms he goes
- (The half-shut door conceals his lurking foes)
- One hand sustain’d a helm, and one the shield
- Which old Laertes wont in youth to wield,
- Cover’d with dust, with dryness chapp’d and worn,199
- The brass corroded, and the leather torn.
- Thus laden, o’er the threshold as he stepp’d,
- Fierce on the villain from each side they leap’d,
- Back by the hair the trembling dastard drew
- And down reluctant on the pavement threw.
- Active and pleas’d the zealous swains fulfil
- At every point their master’s rigid will:
- First, fast behind, his hands and feet they bound,
- Then straiten’d cords involv’d his body round;
- So drawn aloft, athwart the column tied,
- The howling felon swung from side to side.210
- Eumæus scoffing then with keen disdain:
- ‘There pass thy pleasing night, O gentle swain!
- On that soft pillow, from that envied height,
- First may’st thou see the springing dawn of light;
- So timely rise when morning streaks the east,
- To drive thy victims to the suitors’ feast.’
- This said, they left him, tortured as he lay,
- Secured the door, and hasty strode away:
- Each, breathing death, resumed his dangerous post219
- Near great Ulysses; four against an host.
- When lo! descending to her hero’s aid,
- Jove’s daughter Pallas, War’s triumphant Maid;
- In Mentor’s friendly form she join’d his side:
- Ulysses saw, and thus with transport cried:
- ‘Come, ever welcome, and thy succour lend;
- O ev’ry sacred name in one! my Friend!
- Early we lov’d, and long our loves have grown;
- Whate’er thro’ life’s whole series I have done,
- Or good, or grateful, now to mind recall,
- And, aiding this one hour, repay it all.’230
- Thus he; but pleasing hopes his bosom warm
- Of Pallas latent in the friendly form.
- The adverse host the phantom-warrior ey’d,
- And first, loud-threat’ning, Agelaüs cried:
- ‘Mentor, beware, nor let that tongue persuade
- Thy frantic arm to lend Ulysses aid;
- Our force successful shall our threat make good,
- And with the sire and son’s commix thy blood.
- What hopest thou here? Thee first the sword shall slay,
- Then lop thy whole posterity away;240
- Far hence thy banish’d consort shall we send;
- With his thy forfeit lands and treasures blend;
- Thus, and thus only, shalt thou join thy friend.’
- His barb’rous insult ev’n the Goddess fires,
- Who thus the warrior to revenge inspires:
- ‘Art thou Ulysses? where then shall we find
- The patient body and the constant mind?
- That courage, once the Trojans’ daily dread,
- Known nine long years, and felt by heroes dead?
- And where that conduct, which revenged the lust250
- Of Priam’s race, and laid proud Troy in dust?
- If this, when Helen was the cause, were done;
- What for thy country now, thy Queen, thy son?
- Rise then in combat, at my side attend; }
- Observe what vigour gratitude can lend, }
- And foes how weak, opposed against a friend!’ }
- She spoke; but willing longer to survey
- The sire and son’s great acts, withheld the day;
- By farther toils decreed the brave to try,
- And level pois’d the wings of victory;260
- Then with a change of form eludes their sight, }
- Perch’d like a swallow on a rafter’s height, }
- And unperceiv’d enjoys the rising fight. }
- Damastor’s son, bold Agelaüs, leads
- The guilty war, Eurynomus succeeds;
- With these Pisander, great Polyctor’s son,
- Sage Polybus, and stern Amphimedon,
- With Demoptolemus: these six survive;
- The best of all the shafts had left alive.
- Amidst the carnage, desp’rate as they stand,270
- Thus Agelaüs rous’d the lagging band:
- ‘The hour is come, when yon fierce man no more
- With bleeding Princes shall bestrew the floor;
- Lo! Mentor leaves him with an empty boast;
- The four remain, but four against an host.
- Let each at once discharge the deadly dart,
- One sure of six shall reach Ulysses’ heart;
- Thus shall one stroke the glory lost regain:
- The rest must perish, their great leader slain.’
- Then all at once their mingled lances threw,280
- And thirsty all of one man’s blood they flew;
- In vain! Minerva turn’d them with her breath,
- And scatter’d short, or wide, the points of death!
- With deaden’d sound one on the threshold falls,
- One strikes the gate, one rings against the walls:
- The storm pass’d innocent. The godlike man
- Now loftier trod, and dreadful thus began:
- ‘ ’T is now (brave friends) our turn, at once to throw
- (So speed them Heav’n) our jav’lins at the foe.
- That impious race to all their past misdeeds290
- Would add our blood. Injustice still proceeds.’
- He spoke: at once their fiery lances flew:
- Great Demoptolemus Ulysses slew;
- Euryades receiv’d the Prince’s dart;
- The goatherd’s quiver’d in Pisander’s heart;
- Fierce Elatus, by thine, Eumæus, falls;
- Their fall in thunder echoes round the walls.
- The rest retreat: the victors now advance,
- Each from the dead resumes his bloody lance.299
- Again the foe discharge the steely shower;
- Again made frustrate by the Virgin-Power.
- Some, turn’d by Pallas, on the threshold fall,
- Some wound the gate, some ring against the wall;
- Some weak, or pond’rous with the brazen head,
- Drop harmless, on the pavement sounding dead.
- Then bold Amphimedon his jav’lin cast;
- Thy hand, Telemachus, it lightly razed:
- And from Ctesippus’ arm the spear elanc’d
- On good Eumæus’ shield and shoulder glanc’d:
- Not lessen’d of their force (so slight the wound)310
- Each sung along, and dropp’d upon the ground.
- Fate doom’d thee next, Eurydamas, to bear
- Thy death, ennobled by Ulysses’ spear.
- By the bold son Amphimedon was slain,
- And Polybus renown’d, the faithful swain.
- Pierc’d thro’ the breast the rude Ctesippus bled,
- And thus Philætius gloried o’er the dead:
- ‘There end thy pompous vaunts, and high disdain;
- O sharp in scandal, voluble, and vain!
- How weak is mortal pride! To Heav’n alone320
- Th’ event of actions and our fates are known:
- Scoffer, behold what gratitude we bear:
- The victim’s heel is answer’d with this spear.’
- Ulysses brandish’d high his vengeful steel,
- And Damastorides that instant fell;
- Fast by, Leocritus expiring lay;
- The Prince’s jav’lin tore its bloody way
- Thro’ all his bowels: down he tumbles prone,
- His batter’d front and brains besmear the stone.
- Now Pallas shines confess’d; aloft she spreads330
- The arm of vengeance o’er their guilty heads;
- The dreadful ægis blazes in their eye:
- Amazed they see, they tremble, and they fly:
- Confused, distracted, thro’ the rooms they fling: }
- Like oxen madden’d by the breeze’s sting, }
- When sultry days, and long, succeed the gentle spring. }
- Not half so keen fierce vultures of the chase
- Stoop from the mountains on the feather’d race,
- When the wide field extended snares beset;
- With conscious dread they shun the quiv’ring net:340
- No help, no flight; but, wounded ev’ry way,
- Headlong they drop; the fowlers seize the prey.
- On all sides thus they double wound on wound,
- In prostrate heaps the wretches beat the ground,
- Unmanly shrieks precede each dying groan,
- And a red deluge floats the reeking stone.
- Leiodes first before the victor falls:
- The wretched augur thus for mercy calls:
- ‘Oh Gracious! hear, nor let thy suppliant bleed:
- Still undishonour’d, or by word or deed,350
- Thy house, for me, remains; by me repress’d
- Full oft was check’d th’ injustice of the rest:
- Averse they heard me when I counsell’d well,
- Their hearts were harden’d, and they justly fell.
- Oh, spare an augur’s consecrated head,
- Nor add the blameless to the guilty dead.’
- ‘Priest as thou art! for that detested band
- Thy lying prophecies deceiv’d the land:
- Against Ulysses have thy vows been made;
- For them thy daily orisons were paid:360
- Yet more, even to our bed thy pride aspires:
- One common crime one common fate quires.’
- Thus speaking, from the ground the sword he took
- Which Agelaüs’ dying hand forsook:
- Full thro’ his neck the weighty falchion sped:
- Along the pavement roll’d the mutt’ring head.
- Phemius alone the hand of vengeance spared,
- Phemius the sweet, the Heav’n-instructed bard.
- Beside the gate the rev’rend minstrel stands;
- The lyre, now silent, trembling in his hands;370
- Dubious to supplicate the Chief, or fly
- To Jove’s inviolable altar nigh,
- Where oft Laërtes holy vows had paid,
- And oft Ulysses smoking victims laid.
- His honour’d harp with care he first set down,
- Between the laver and the silver throne;
- Then, prostrate stretch’d before the dreadful man,
- Persuasive thus, with accent soft began:
- ‘O King! to mercy be thy soul inclin’d,
- And spare the poet’s ever-gentle kind.380
- A deed like this thy future fame would wrong,
- For dear to Gods and man is sacred song.
- Self-taught I sing; by Heav’n, and Heav’n alone,
- The genuine seeds of poesy are sown:
- And (what the Gods bestow) the lofty lay
- To Gods alone and godlike worth we pay.
- Save then the poet, and thyself reward;
- ’T is thine to merit, mine is to record.
- That here I sung, was force, and not desire:
- This hand reluctant touch’d the warbling wire;390
- And, let thy son attest, nor sordid pay,
- Nor servile flattery, stain’d the moral lay.’
- The moving words Telemachus attends,
- His sire approaches, and the bard defends.
- ‘O mix not, Father, with those impious dead
- The man divine; forbear that sacred head;
- Medon, the herald, too, our arms may spare,
- Medon, who made my infancy his care;
- If yet he breathes, permit thy son to give399
- Thus much to gratitude, and bid him live.’
- Beneath a table, trembling with dismay,
- Couch’d close to earth, unhappy Medon lay,
- Wrapp’d in a new-slain ox’s ample hide;
- Swift at the word he cast his screen aside,
- Sprung to the Prince, embraced his knee with tears,
- And thus with grateful voice address’d his ears:
- ‘O Prince! O Friend! lo! here thy Medon stands:
- Ah! stop the hero’s unresisted hands,
- Incens’d too justly by that impious brood,
- Whose guilty glories now are set in blood.’410
- To whom Ulysses with a pleasing eye:
- ‘Be bold, on friendship and my son rely;
- Live, an example for the world to read,
- How much more safe the good than evil deed:
- Thou, with the Heav’n-taught bard, in peace resort
- From blood and carnage to yon open court:
- Me other work requires.’—With tim’rous awe
- From the dire scene th’ exempted two withdraw,
- Scarce sure of life, look round, and trembling move419
- To the bright altars of Protector Jove.
- Meanwhile Ulysses search’d the dome, to find
- If yet there live of all th’ offending kind.
- Not one! complete the bloody tale he found,
- All steep’d in blood, all gasping on the ground.
- So, when by hollow shores the fisher-train }
- Sweep with their arching nets the hoary main, }
- And scarce the meshy toils the copious draught contain, }
- All naked of their element, and bare,
- The fishes pant, and gasp in thinner air;
- Wide o’er the sands are spread the stiff’ning prey,430
- Till the warm sun exhales their soul away.
- And now the King commands his son to call
- Old Euryclea to the deathful hall:
- The son observant not a moment stays;
- The aged governess with speed obeys;
- The sounding portals instant they display;
- The matron moves, the Prince directs the way.
- On heaps of death the stern Ulysses stood,
- All black with dust, and cover’d thick with blood.439
- So the grim lion from the slaughter comes,
- Dreadful he glares, and terribly he foams,
- His breast with marks of carnage painted o’er,
- His jaws all dropping with the bull’s black gore.
- Soon as her eyes the welcome object met,
- The guilty fall’n, the mighty deed complete,
- A scream of joy her feeble voice essay’d:
- The hero check’d her, and composedly said:
- ‘Woman, experienc’d as thou art, control
- Indecent joy, and feast thy secret soul.
- T’ insult the dead is cruel and unjust;450
- Fate and their crime have sunk them to the dust.
- Nor heeded these the censure of mankind,
- The good and bad were equal in their mind.
- Justly the price of worthlessness they paid,
- And each now wails an unlamented shade.
- But thou sincere, O Euryclea, say,
- What maids dishonour us, and what obey?’
- Then she: ‘In these thy kingly walls remain
- (My son) full fifty of the handmaid train,
- Taught, by my care, to cull the fleece or weave,460
- And servitude with pleasing tasks deceive;
- Of these, twice six pursue their wicked way,
- Nor me, nor chaste Penelope obey;
- Nor fits it that Telemachus command
- (Young as he is) his mother’s female band.
- Hence to the upper chambers let me fly,
- Where slumbers soft now close the royal eye;
- There wake her with the news’—the matron cried.
- ‘Not so’ (Ulysses, more sedate, replied),
- ‘Bring first the crew who wrought these guilty deeds.’470
- In haste the matron parts; the King proceeds:
- ‘Now to dispose the dead, the care remains
- To you, my son, and you, my faithful swains;
- Th’ offending females to that task we doom,
- To wash, to scent, and purify the room:
- These (ev’ry table cleans’d, and ev’ry throne,
- And all the melancholy labour done),
- Drive to yon court, without the palace-wall.
- There the revenging sword shall smite them all;479
- So with the suitors let them mix in dust,
- Stretch’d in a long oblivion of their lust.’
- He said: the lamentable train appear,
- Each vents a groan, and drops a tender tear:
- Each heav’d her mournful burden, and beneath
- The porch deposed the ghastly heap of death.
- The Chief severe, compelling each to move,
- Urged the dire task imperious from above:
- With thirsty sponge they rub the tables o’er }
- (The swains unite their toil); the walls, the floor }
- Wash’d with th’ effusive wave, are purged of gore.490 }
- Once more the palace set in fair array,
- To the base court the females take their way:
- There compass’d close between the dome and wall
- (Their life’s last scene), they trembling wait their fall.
- Then thus the Prince: ‘To these shall we afford
- A fate so pure, as by the martial sword?
- To these, the nightly prostitutes to shame,
- And base revilers of our house and name?’
- Thus speaking, on the circling wall he strung499
- A ship’s tough cable, from a column hung;
- Near the high top he strain’d it strongly round,
- Whence no contending foot could reach the ground.
- Their heads above connected in a row,
- They beat the air with quiv’ring feet below:
- Thus on some tree hung struggling in the snare,
- The doves or thrushes flap their wings in air.
- Soon fled the soul impure, and left behind
- The empty corse to waver with the wind.
- Then forth they led Melanthius, and began
- Their bloody work; they lopp’d away the man,510
- Morsel for dogs! then trimm’d with brazen shears
- The wretch, and shorten’d of his nose and ears;
- His hands and feet last felt the cruel steel:
- He roar’d, and torments gave his soul to Hell.
- They wash, and to Ulysses take their way,
- So ends the bloody business of the day.
- To Euryclea then address’d the King:
- ‘Bring hither fire, and hither sulphur bring,
- To purge the palace: then the Queen attend,
- And let her with her matron-train descend;520
- The matron-train, with all the virgin-band,
- Assemble here, to learn their lord’s command.’
- Then Euryclea: ‘Joyful I obey,
- But cast those mean dishonest rags away;
- Permit me first the royal robes to bring:
- Ill suits this garb the shoulders of a King.’
- ‘Bring sulphur straight, and fire’ (the Monarch cries).
- She hears, and at the word obedient flies.
- With fire and sulphur, cure of noxious fumes,
- He purged the walls, and blood-polluted rooms.530
- Again the matron springs with eager pace,
- And spreads her lord’s return from place to place.
- They hear, rush forth, and instant round him stand,
- A gazing throng, a torch in every hand.
- They saw, they knew him, and with fond embrace
- Each humbly kiss’d his knee, or hand, or face;
- He knows them all; in all such truth appears,
- Ev’n he indulges the sweet joy of tears.

BOOK XXIV

ARGUMENT

The souls of the suitors are conducted by Mercury to the infernal shades. Ulysses in the country goes to the retirement of his father Laërtes; he finds him busied in his garden all alone: the manner of his discovery to him is beautifully described. They return together to his lodge, and the king is acknowledged by Dolius and the servants. The Ithacensians, led by Eupithes, the father of Antinoüs, rise against Ulysses, who gives them battle, in which Eupithes is killed by Laërtes: and the goddess Pallas makes a lasting peace between Ulysses and his subjects, which concludes the Odyssey.

- Cyllenius now to Pluto’s dreary reign
- Conveys the dead, a lamentable train!
- The golden wand, that causes sleep to fly,
- Or in soft slumber seals the wakeful eye,
- That drives the ghosts to realms of night or day,
- Points out the long uncomfortable way.
- Trembling the spectres glide, and plaintive vent
- Thin hollow screams, along the deep descent.
- As in the cavern of some rifted den,
- Where flock nocturual bats, and birds obscene;10
- Cluster’d they hang, till, at some sudden shock,
- They move, and murmurs run thro’ all the rock!
- So cow’ring fled the sable heaps of ghosts,
- And such a scream fill’d all the dismal coasts.
- And now they reach’d the earth’s remotest ends,
- And now the gates where ev’ning Sol descends,
- And Leucas’ rock, and Ocean’s utmost streams,
- And now pervade the dusky land of dreams,
- And rest at last, where souls unbodied dwell
- In ever-flow’ring meads of asphodel.20
- The empty forms of men inhabit there,
- Impassive semblance, images of air!
- Not else are all that shined on earth before:
- Ajax and great Achilles are no more!
- Yet still a master-ghost, the rest he aw’d,
- The rest ador’d him, tow’ring as he trod;
- Still at his side is Nestor’s son survey’d,
- And loved Patroclus still attends his shade.
- New as they were to that infernal shore,
- The suitors stopp’d, and gazed the hero o’er.30
- When, moving slow, the regal form they view’d
- Of great Atrides: him in pomp pursued
- And solemn sadness thro’ the gloom of Hell,
- The train of those who by Ægisthus fell:
- ‘O mighty Chief!’ (Pelides thus began)
- ‘Honour’d by Jove above the lot of man!
- King of a hundred Kings! to whom resign’d
- The strongest, bravest, greatest of mankind,
- Com’st thou the first, to view this dreary state?
- And was the noblest the first mark of Fate,40
- Condemn’d to pay the great arrear so soon
- The lot, which all lament, and none can shun!
- Oh! better had’st thou sunk in Trojan ground,
- With all thy full-blown honours cover’d round;
- Then grateful Greece with streaming eyes might raise
- Historic marbles to record thy praise:
- Thy praise eternal on the faithful stone
- Had with transmissive glories graced thy son.
- But heavier fates were destin’d to attend:
- What man is happy, till he knows the end?’50
- ‘O son of Peleus! greater than mankind!’
- (Thus Agamemnon’s kingly shade rejoin’d)
- ‘Thrice happy thou, to press the martial plain
- ’Midst heaps of heroes in thy quarrel slain:
- In clouds of smoke rais’d by the noble fray, }
- Great and terrific ev’n in death you lay, }
- And deluges of blood flow’d round you ev’ry way. }
- Nor ceas’d the strife till Jove himself opposed,
- And all in tempests the dire ev’ning closed.
- Then to the fleet we bore thy honour’d load,60
- And decent on the funeral bed bestow’d:
- Then unguents sweet, and tepid streams we shed; }
- Tears flow’d from ev’ry eye, and o’er the dead }
- Each clipp’d the curling honour of his head. }
- Struck at the news, thy azure mother came;
- The sea-green sisters waited on the dame:
- A voice of loud lament thro’ all the main
- Was heard; and terror seiz’d the Grecian train:
- Back to their ships the frighted host had fied;69
- But Nestor spoke, they listen’d and obey’d
- (From old experience Nestor’s counsel springs,
- And long vicissitudes of human things).
- ‘ “Forbear your flight: fair Thetis from the main
- To mourn Achilles leads her azure train.”
- Around thee stand the daughters of the deep,
- Robe thee in heav’nly vests, and round thee weep:
- Round thee, the Muses, with alternate strain,
- In ever-consecrating verse, complain.
- Each warlike Greek the moving music hears,
- And iron-hearted heroes melt in tears.80
- Till sev’nteen nights and sev’nteen days return’d,
- All that was mortal or immortal mourn’d,
- To flames we gave thee, the succeeding day,
- And fatted sheep and sable oxen slay;
- With oils and honey blaze th’ augmented fires,
- And, like a God adorn’d, thy earthly part expires.
- Unnumber’d warriors round the burning pile
- Urge the fleet courser’s or the racer’s toil;
- Thick clouds of dust o’er all the circle rise,
- And the mix’d clamour thunders in the skies.90
- Soon as absorb’d in all-embracing flame
- Sunk what was mortal of thy mighty name,
- We then collect thy snowy bones, and place
- With wines and unguents in a golden vase
- (The vase to Thetis Bacchus gave of old,
- And Vulcan’s art enrich’d the sculptured gold);
- There we thy relics, great Achilles! blend
- With dear Patroclus, thy departed friend:
- In the same urn a sep’rate space contains
- Thy next belov’d, Antilochus’ remains.100
- Now all the sons of warlike Greece surround
- Thy destin’d tomb, and cast a mighty mound:
- High on the shore the growing hill we raise,
- That wide th’ extended Hellespont surveys:
- Where all, from age to age, who pass the coast
- May point Achilles’ tomb, and hail the mighty ghost.
- Thetis herself to all our Peers proclaims
- Heroic prizes and exequial games;
- The Gods assented; and around thee lay
- Rich spoils and gifts that blazed against the day.110
- Oft have I seen with solemn funeral games
- Heroes and Kings committed to the flames;
- But strength of youth, or valour of the brave,
- With nobler contest ne’er renown’d a grave.
- Such were the games by azure Thetis giv’n,
- And such the honours, O Belov’d of Heav’n!
- Dear to mankind thy fame survives, nor fades
- Its bloom eternal in the Stygian shades.
- But what to me avail my honours gone,119
- Successful toils, and battles bravely won?
- Doom’d by stern Jove at home to end my life,
- By curs’d Ægisthus, and a faithless wife!’
- Thus they: while Hermes o’er the dreary plain
- Led the sad numbers by Ulysses slain.
- On each majestic form they cast a view,
- And tim’rous pass’d, and awfully withdrew.
- But Agamemnon, thro’ the gloomy shade,
- His ancient host Amphimedon survey’d:
- ‘Son of Melanthius!’ (he began) ‘O say! }
- What cause compell’d so many, and so gay,130 }
- To tread the downward melancholy way? }
- Say, could one city yield a troop so fair?
- Were all these partners of one native air?
- Or did the rage of stormy Neptune sweep
- Your lives at once, and whelm beneath the deep?
- Did nightly thieves, or pirates’ cruel bands,
- Drench with your blood your pillaged country’s sands?
- Or, well-defending some beleaguer’d wall,
- Say, for the public did ye greatly fall?
- Inform thy guest: for such I was of yore140
- When our triumphant navies touch’d your shore;
- Forc’d a long month the wintry seas to bear,
- To move the great Ulysses to the war.’
- ‘O King of Men! I faithful shall relate’
- (Replied Amphimedon) ‘our hapless fate.
- Ulysses absent, our ambitious aim
- With rival loves pursued his royal dame;
- Her coy reserve, and prudence mix’d with pride,
- Our common suit nor granted, nor denied:
- But close with inward hate our deaths design’d;150
- Vers’d in all arts of wily womankind,
- Her hand, laborious, in delusion spread
- A spacious loom, and mix’d the various thread.
- ‘ “Ye Peers” (she cried), “who press to gain my heart,
- Where dead Ulysses claims no more a part,
- Yet a short space your rival suit suspend,
- Till this funereal web my labours end:
- Cease, till to good Laertes I bequeath
- A task of grief, his ornaments of death:
- Lest, when the Fates his royal ashes claim,
- The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame;161
- Should he, long honour’d with supreme command,
- Want the last duties of a daughter’s hand.”
- ‘The fiction pleas’d: our gen’rous train complies,
- Nor fraud distrusts in virtue’s fair disguise.
- The work she plied, but, studious of delay,
- Each foll’wing night revers’d the toils of day.
- Unheard, unseen, three years her arts prevail;
- The fourth, her maid reveal’d th’ amazing tale,
- And show’d, as unperceiv’d we took our stand,170
- The backward labours of her faithless hand.
- Forc’d, she completes it; and before us lay }
- The mingled web, whose gold and silver ray }
- Display’d the radiance of the night and day. }
- ‘Just as she finish’d her illustrious toil
- Ill fortune led Ulysses to our isle.
- Far in a lonely nook, beside the sea,
- At an old swineherd’s rural lodge he lay:
- Thither his son from sandy Pyle repairs,
- And speedy lands, and secretly confers.180
- They plan our future ruin, and resort
- Confed’rate to the city and the court.
- First came the son: the father next succeeds,
- Clad like a beggar, whom Eumæus leads;
- Propp’d on a staff, deform’d with age and care,
- And hung with rags that flutter’d in the air.
- Who could Ulysses in that form behold?
- Scorn’d by the young, forgotten by the old,
- Ill-used by all! to ev’ry wrong resign’d,
- Patient he suffer’d with a constant mind.190
- But when, arising in his wrath t’ obey
- The will of Jove, he gave the vengeance way:
- The scatter’d arms that hung around the dome
- Careful he treasured in a private room;
- Then to her suitors bade his Queen propose
- The archer’s strife, the source of future woes,
- And omen of our death! In vain we drew
- The twanging string, and tried the stubborn yew:
- To none it yields but great Ulysses’ hands;
- In vain we threat; Telemachus commands:
- The bow he snatch’d, and in an instant bent;201
- Thro’ ev’ry ring the victor arrow went.
- Fierce on the threshold then in arms he stood; }
- Pour’d forth the darts that thirsted for our blood, }
- And frown’d before us, dreadful as a God; }
- First bleeds Antinoüs: thick the shafts resound;
- And heaps on heaps the wretches strew the ground:
- This way and that we turn, we fly, we fall;
- Some God assisted, and unmann’d us all:
- Ignoble cries precede the dying groans;210
- And batter’d brains and blood besmear the stones.
- ‘Thus, great Atrides! thus Ulysses drove
- The shades thou seest from yon fair realms above;
- Our mangled bodies now, deform’d with gore,
- Cold and neglected, spread the marble floor.
- No friend to bathe our wounds, or tears to shed
- O’er the pale corse the honours of the dead.’
- ‘Oh bless’d Ulysses!’ (thus the King express’d
- His sudden rapture) ‘in thy consort bless’d!
- Not more thy wisdom than her virtue shined;220
- Not more thy patience than her constant mind.
- Icarius’ daughter, glory of the past,
- And model to the future age, shall last:
- The Gods, to honour her fair fame, shall raise
- (Their great reward) a Poet in her praise.
- Not such, O Tyndarus! thy daughter’s deed,
- By whose dire hand her King and Husband bled;
- Her shall the Muse to infamy prolong,
- Example dread, and theme of tragic song!
- The gen’ral sex shall suffer in her shame,
- And ev’n the best that bears a woman’s name.’231
- Thus in the regions of eternal shade
- Conferr’d the mournful phantoms of the dead;
- While from the town Ulysses and his band
- Pass’d to Laërtes’ cultivated land.
- The ground himself had purchas’d with his pain,
- And labour made the rugged soil a plain.
- There stood his mansion of the rural sort,
- With useful buildings round the lowly court;
- Where the few servants that divide his care,240
- Took their laborious rest, and homely fare:
- And one Sicilian matron, old and sage,
- With constant duty tends his drooping age.
- Here now arriving, to his rustic band,
- And martial son, Ulysses gave command.
- ‘Enter the house, and of the bristly swine
- Select the largest to the Powers divine.
- Alone, and unattended, let me try
- If yet I share the old man’s memory:
- If those dim eyes can yet Ulysses know250 }
- (Their light and dearest object long ago), }
- Now changed with time, with absence, and with woe.’ }
- Then to his train he gives his spear and shield;
- The house they enter: and he seeks the field
- Thro’ rows of shade, with various fruitage crown’d,
- And labour’d scenes of richest verdure round.
- Nor aged Dolius, nor his sons were there,
- Nor servants, absent on another care;
- To search the woods for sets of flow’ry thorn,
- Their orchard bounds to strengthen and adorn.260
- But all alone the boary King he found;
- His habit coarse, but warmly wrapp’d around;
- His head, that bow’d with many a pensive care,
- Fenc’d with a double cap of goatskin hair:
- His buskins old, in former service torn,
- But well repair’d; and gloves against the thorn.
- In this array the kingly gard’ner stood,
- And clear’d a plant, encumber’d with its wood.
- Beneath a neighb’ring tree, the Chief divine
- Gazed o’er his sire, retracing ev’ry line,270
- The ruins of himself! now worn away
- With age, yet still majestic in decay!
- Sudden his eyes releas’d their wat’ry store;
- The much-enduring man could bear no more.
- Doubtful he stood, if instant to embrace
- His aged limbs, to kiss his rev’rend face,
- With eager transport to disclose the whole,
- And pour at once the torrent of his soul.—
- Not so: his judgement takes the winding way
- Of question distant, and of soft essay;280
- More gentle methods on weak age employs;
- And moves the sorrows, to enhance the joys.
- Then, to his sire with beating heart he moves
- And with a tender pleasantry reproves;
- Who, digging round the plant, still hangs his head,
- Nor aught remits the work, while thus he said:
- ‘Great is thy skill, O Father! great thy toil,
- Thy careful hand is stamp’d on all the soil;
- Thy squadron’d vineyards well thy art declare, }
- The olive green, blue fig, and pendent pear;290 }
- And not one empty spot escapes thy care. }
- On ev’ry plant and tree thy cares are shown,
- Nothing neglected, but thyself alone.
- Forgive me, Father, if this fault I blame;
- Age so advanc’d may some indulgence claim.
- Not for thy sloth, I deem thy lord unkind:
- Nor speaks thy form a mean or servile mind;
- I read a Monarch in that princely air,
- The same thy aspect, if the same thy care;
- Soft sleep, fair garments, and the joys of wine,300
- These are the rights of age, and should be thine.
- Who then thy master, say? and whose the land
- So dress’d and managed by thy skilful hand?
- But chief, oh tell me! (what I question most)
- Is this the far-famed Ithacensian coast?
- For so reported the first man I view’d
- (Some surly islander, of manners rude),
- Nor farther conference vouchasfed to stay;
- Heedless he whistled, and pursued his way.
- But thou, whom years have taught to understand,310
- Humanely hear, and answer my demand:
- A friend I seek, a wise one and a brave:
- Say, lives he yet, or moulders in the grave?
- Time was (my fortunes then were at the best),
- When at my house I lodg’d this foreign guest;
- He said, from Ithaca’s fair isle he came,
- And old Laërtes was his father’s name.
- To him, whatever to a guest is owed
- I paid, and hospitable gifts bestow’d:
- To him sev’n talents of pure ore I told,320
- Twelve cloaks, twelve vests, twelve tunics stiff with gold;
- A bowl, that rich with polish’d silver flames,
- And, skill’d in female works, four lovely dames.’
- At this the father, with a father’s fears
- (His venerable eyes bedimm’d with tears):
- ‘This is the land; but ah! thy gifts are lost,
- For godless men, and rude, possess the coast:
- Sunk is the glory of this once-famed shore!
- Thy ancient friend, O Stranger, is no more!329
- Full recompense thy bounty else had borne;
- For ev’ry good man yields a just return:
- So civil rights demand; and who begins
- The track of friendship, not pursuing, sins.
- But tell me, stranger, be the truth confess’d,
- What years have circled since thou saw’st that guest?
- That hapless guest, alas! for ever gone!
- Wretch that he was! and that I am! my son!
- If ever man to misery was born,
- ’T was his to suffer and ’t is mine to mourn!
- Far from his friends, and from his native reign,340
- He lies a prey to monsters of the main;
- Or savage beasts his mangled relics tear,
- Or screaming vultures scatter thro’ the air:
- Nor could his mother funeral unguents shed;
- Nor wail’d his father o’er th’ untimely dead:
- Nor his sad consort, on the mournful bier,
- Seal’d his cold eyes, or dropp’d a tender tear!
- ‘But, tell me who thou art? and what thy race?
- Thy town, thy parents, and thy native place?
- Or, if a merchant in pursuit of gain,350 }
- What port receiv’d thy vessel from the main? }
- Or com’st thou single, or attend thy train?’ }
- Then thus the son: ‘From Alybas I came,
- My palace there; Eperitus my name.
- Not vulgar born; from Aphidas, the King
- Of Polypemon’s royal line, I spring.
- Some adverse demon from Sicania bore
- Our wand’ring course, and drove us on your shore;
- Far from the town, an unfrequented bay
- Reliev’d our wearied vessel from the sea.
- Five years have circled since these eyes pursued361
- Ulysses parting thro’ the sable flood;
- Prosp’rous he sail’d, with dexter auguries,
- And all the wing’d good omens of the skies.
- Well hoped we then to meet on this fair shore,
- Whom Heav’n, alas! decreed to meet no more.’
- Quick thro’ the father’s heart these accents ran;
- Grief seiz’d at once, and wrapp’d up all the man:
- Deep from his soul he sigh’d, and sorr’wing spread
- A cloud of ashes on his hoary head.370
- Trembling with agonies of strong delight
- Stood the great son, heart-wounded with the sight:
- He ran, he seiz’d him with a strict embrace,
- With thousand kisses wander’d o’er his face:
- ‘I, I am he; O Father, rise! behold
- Thy son, with twenty winters now grown old;
- Thy son, so long desired, so long detain’d,
- Restor’d, and breathing in his native land:
- These floods of sorrow, O my Sire, restrain! }
- The vengeance is complete; the suitor train,380
- Stretch’d in our palace, by these hands lie slain.’ }
- Amazed, Laërtes: ‘Give some certain sign’
- (If such thou art) ‘to manifest thee mine.’
- ‘Lo here the wound’ (he cries) ‘receiv’d of yore,
- The scar indented by the tusky boar,
- When, by thyself, and by Anticlea sent,
- To old Autolycus’s realms I went.
- Yet by another sign thy offspring know;
- The sev’ral trees you gave me long ago,
- While, yet a child, these fields I lov’d to trace,390
- And trod thy footsteps with unequal pace;
- To ev’ry plant in order as we came,
- Well-pleas’d, you told its nature and its name,
- Whate’er my childish fancy ask’d, bestow’d:
- Twelve pear-trees, bowing with their pendent load,
- And ten, that red with blushing apples glow’d;
- Full fifty purple figs; and many a row
- Of various vines that then began to blow,
- A future vintage! when the Hours produce
- Their latent buds, and Sol exalts the juice.’400
- Smit with the signs which all his doubts explain,
- His heart within him melts; his knees sustain
- Their feeble weight no more: his arms alone
- Support him, round the lov’d Ulysses thrown;
- He faints, he sinks, with mighty joys oppress’d:
- Ulysses clasps him to his eager breast.
- Soon as returning life regains its seat,
- And his breath lengthens, and his pulses beat;
- ‘Yes, I believe’ (he cries) ‘almighty Jove!
- Heav’n rules us yet, and Gods there are above.410
- ’T is so—the suitors for their wrongs have paid—
- But what shall guard us, if the town invade?
- If, while the news thro’ ev’ry city flies,
- All Ithaca and Cephalenia rise?’
- To this Ulysses: ‘As the Gods shall please
- Be all the rest; and set thy soul at ease.
- Haste to the cottage by this orchard’s side,
- And take the banquet which our cares provide:
- There wait thy faithful band of rural friends,419
- And there the young Telemachus attends.’
- Thus having said, they traced the garden o’er,
- And stooping enter’d at the lowly door.
- The swains and young Telemachus they found,
- The victim portion’d, and the goblet crown’d.
- The hoary King his old Sicilian maid
- Perfumed and wash’d, and gorgeously array’d.
- Pallas attending gives his frame to shine
- With awful port, and majesty divine;
- His gazing son admires the godlike grace,
- And air celestial dawning o’er his face.430
- ‘What God’ (he cried) ‘my father’s form improves?
- How high he treads, and how enlarged he moves!’
- ‘Oh! would to all the deathless Powers on high,
- Pallas and Jove, and him who gilds the sky!
- (Replied the King, elated with his praise)
- My strength were still as once in better days:
- When the bold Cephaleus the leaguer form’d,
- And proud Nericus trembled as I storm’d.
- Such were I now, not absent from your deed439
- When the last sun beheld the suitors bleed,
- This arm had aided yours, this hand bestrown }
- Our shores with death, and push’d the slaughter on; }
- Nor had the sire been sep’rate from the son.’ }
- They communed thus; while homeward bent their way
- The swains, fatigued with labours of the day:
- Dolius the first, the venerable man;
- And next his sons, a long succeeding train.
- For due refection to the bower they came,
- Call’d by the careful old Sicilian dame,
- Who nurs’d the children, and now tends the sire;450
- They see their lord, they gaze, and they admire.
- On chairs and beds in order seated round,
- They share the gladsome board; the roofs resound.
- While thus Ulysses to his ancient friend:
- ‘Forbear your wonder, and the feast attend:
- The rites have waited long.’ The Chief commands
- Their loves in vain; old Dolius spreads his hands,
- Springs to his master with a warm embrace,
- And fastens kisses on his hands and face;
- Then thus broke out: ‘O long, O daily mourn’d!460
- Beyond our hopes, and to our wish return’d!
- Conducted sure by Heav’n! for Heav’n alone }
- Could work this wonder: welcome to thy own! }
- And joys and happiness attend thy throne! }
- Who knows thy bless’d, thy wish’d return? oh say, }
- To the chaste Queen shall we the news convey? }
- Or hears she, and with blessings loads the day?’ }
- ‘Dismiss that care, for to the royal bride
- Already is it known,’ the King replied,
- And straight resumed his seat; while round him bows470
- Each faithful youth, and breathes out ardent vows:
- Then all beneath their father take their place,
- Rank’d by their ages, and the banquet grace.
- Now flying Fame the swift report had spread
- Thro’ all the city, of the suitors dead.
- In throngs they rise, and to the palace crowd;
- Their sighs were many, and the tumult loud.
- Weeping they bear the mangled heaps of slain, }
- Inhume the natives in their native plain; }
- The rest in ships are wafted o’er the main.480 }
- Then sad in council all the seniors sate,
- Frequent and full, assembled to debate:
- Amid the circle first Eupithes rose,
- Big was his eye with tears, his heart with woes:
- The bold Antinoüs was his age’s pride,
- The first who by Ulysses’ arrow died:
- Down his wan cheek the trickling torrent ran,
- As, mixing words with sighs, he thus began:
- ‘Great deeds, O Friends! this wondrous man has wrought,
- And mighty blessings to his country brought!490
- With ships he parted, and a numerous train;
- Those, and their ships, he buried in the main.
- Now he returns, and first essays his hand
- In the best blood of all his native land.
- Haste then, and ere to neighb’ring Pyle he flies, }
- Or sacred Elis, to procure supplies; }
- Arise (or ye for ever fall), arise! }
- Shame to this age, and all that shall succeed!
- If unrevenged your sons and brothers bleed.
- Prove that we live, by vengeance on his head,500
- Or sink at once forgotten with the dead.’
- Here ceas’d he, but indignant tears let fall
- Spoke when he ceas’d: dumb sorrow touch’d them all.
- When from the palace to the wond’ring throng
- Sage Medon came, and Phemius came along
- (Restless and early sleep’s soft bands they broke);
- And Medon first th’ assembled Chiefs bespoke:
- ‘Hear me, ye Peers and Elders of the land,
- Who deem this act the work of mortal hand;509
- As o’er the heaps of death Ulysses strode,
- These eyes, these eyes beheld a present God,
- Who now before him, now beside him stood,
- Fought as he fought, and mark’d his way with blood:
- In vain old Mentor’s form the God belied;
- ’T was Heav’n that struck, and Heav’n was on his side.’
- A sudden horror all th’ assembly shook,
- When, slowly rising, Halitherses spoke
- (Rev’rend and wise, whose comprehensive view
- At once the present and the future knew);
- ‘Me too, ye Fathers, hear! from you proceed520
- The ills ye mourn; your own the guilty deed.
- Ye gave your sons, your lawless sons, the rein
- (Oft warn’d by Mentor and myself in vain);
- An absent hero’s bed they sought to soil,
- An absent hero’s wealth they made their spoil;
- Immod’rate riot, and intemp’rate lust!
- Th’ offence was great, the punishment was just.
- Weigh then my counsels in an equal scale,
- Nor rush to ruin. Justice will prevail.’
- His mod’rate words some better minds persuade:530
- They part, and join him; but the number stay’d.
- They storm, they shout, with hasty frenzy fired,
- And second all Eupithes’ rage inspired.
- They case their limbs in brass; to arms they run;
- The broad effulgence blazes in the sun.
- Before the city, and in ample plain,
- They meet: Eupithes heads the frantic train.
- Fierce for his son, he breathes his threats in air;
- Fate hears them not, and Death attends him there.
- This pass’d on earth, while in the realms above540
- Minerva thus to cloud-compelling Jove:
- ‘May I presume to search thy secret soul?
- O Power Supreme, O Ruler of the Whole!
- Say, hast thou doom’d to this divided state }
- Or peaceful amity, or stern debate? }
- Declare thy purpose, for thy will is Fate.’ }
- ‘Is not thy thought my own?’ (the God replies
- Who rolls the thunder o’er the vaulted skies)
- ‘Hath not long since thy knowing soul decreed }
- The Chief’s return should make the guilty bleed?550 }
- ’T is done, and at thy will the Fates succeed. }
- Yet hear the issue; since Ulysses’ hand
- Has slain the suitors, Heav’n shall bless the land.
- None now the kindred of th’ unjust shall own;
- Forgot the slaughter’d brother and the son:
- Each future day increase of wealth shall bring,
- And o’er the past Oblivion stretch her wing.
- Long shall Ulysses in his empire rest,
- His people blessing, by his people bless’d.
- Let all be peace.’—He said, and gave the nod560
- That binds the Fates; the sanction of the God:
- And, prompt to execute th’ eternal will,
- Descended Pallas from th’ Olympian hill.
- Now sat Ulysses at the rural feast,
- The rage of hunger and of thirst repress’d:
- To watch the foe a trusty spy he sent:
- A son of Dolius on the message went,
- Stood in the way, and at a glance beheld
- The foe approach, embattled on the field.
- With backward step he hastens to the bower,570
- And tells the news. They arm with all their power.
- Four friends alone Ulysses’ cause embrace,
- And six were all the sons of Dolius’ race:
- Old Dolius too his rusted arms put on;
- And, still more old, in arms Laërtes shone.
- Trembling with warmth, the hoary heroes stand,
- And brazen panoply invests the band.
- The opening gates at once their war display:
- Fierce they rush forth: Ulysses leads the way.579
- That moment joins them with celestial aid,
- In Mentor’s form, the Jove-descended Maid:
- The suff’ring Hero felt his patient breast
- Swell with new joy, and thus his son address’d:
- ‘Behold, Telemachus! (nor fear the sight)
- The brave embattled, the grim front of fight!
- The valiant with the valiant must contend:
- Shame not the line whence glorious you descend;
- Wide o’er the world their martial fame was spread:
- Regard thyself, the living, and the dead.’
- ‘Thy eyes, great Father! on this battle cast,590
- Shall learn from me Penelope was chaste.’
- So spoke Telemachus: the gallant boy
- Good old Laërtes heard with panting joy;
- And ‘Bless’d! thrice bless’d this happy day!’ (he cries)
- ‘The day that shows me, ere I close my eyes,
- A son and grandson of th’ Arcesian name
- Strive for fair virtue, and contest for fame!’
- Then thus Minerva in Laërtes’ ear:
- ‘Son of Arcesius, rev’rend warrior, hear!
- Jove and Jove’s Daughter first implore in prayer,600
- Then, whirling high, discharge thy lance in air.’
- She said, infusing courage with the word.
- Jove and Jove’s Daughter then the Chief implor’d,
- And, whirling high, dismiss’d the lance in air.
- Full at Eupithes drove the deathful spear:
- The brass-cheek’d helmet opens to the wound;
- He falls, earth thunders, and his arms resound.
- Before the father and the conquering son
- Heaps rush on heaps; they fight, they drop, they run.609
- Now by the sword, and now the jav’lin fall
- The rebel race, and death had swallow’d all;
- But from on high the blue-eyed Virgin cried
- (Her awful voice detain’d the headlong tide):
- ‘Forbear, ye Nations, your mad hands forbear
- From mutual slaughter; Peace descends to spare.’
- Fear shook the Nations: at the voice divine
- They drop their jav’lins, and their rage resign.
- All scatter’d round their glitt’ring weapons lie;
- Some fall to earth, and some confusedly fly.619
- With dreadful shouts Ulysses pour’d along,
- Swift as an eagle, as an eagle strong.
- But Jove’s red arm the burning thunder aims;
- Before Minerva shot the livid flames;
- Blazing they fell, and at her feet expired;
- Then stopped the Goddess, trembled, and retired.
- ‘Descended from the Gods! Ulysses, cease;
- Offend not Jove: obey, and give the peace.’
- So Pallas spoke: the mandate from above
- The King obey’d. The Virgin-seed of Jove,
- In Mentor’s form, confirm’d the full accord,630
- And willing Nations knew their lawful lord.

POSTSCRIPT BY POPE

I cannot dismiss this work without a few observations on the true character and style of it. Whoever reads the Odyssey with an eye to the Iliad, expecting to find it of the same character, or of the same sort of spirit, will be grievously deceived, and err against the first principle of criticism, which is to consider the nature of the piece, and the intent of its author. The Odyssey is a moral and political work, instructive to all degrees of men and filled with images, examples, and precepts, of civil and domestic life. Homer is here a person

Qui didicit, patriæ quid debeat, et quid amicis,
Quo sit amore parens, quo frater amandus, et hospes:
Qui quid sit pulchrum, quid turpe, quid utile, quid non,
Plenius et melius Chrysippo et Crantore dicit.

The Odyssey is the reverse of the Iliad, in moral, subject, manner, and style; to which it has no sort of relation, but as the story happens to follow in order of time, and as some of the same persons are actors in it. Yet from this incidental connexion many have been misled to regard it as a continuation or second part, and thence to expect a parity of character inconsistent with its nature.

It is no wonder that the common reader should fall into this mistake, when so great a critic as Longinus seems not wholly free from it; although what he has said has been generally understood to import a severer censure of the Odyssey than it really does, if we consider the occasion on which it is introduced, and the circumstances to which it is confined.

‘The Odyssey,’ says he, ‘is an instance, how natural it is to a great genius, when it begins to grow old and decline, to delight itself in Narrations and Fables. For, that Homer composed the Odyssey after the Iliad, many proofs may be given, etc. From hence in my judgment it proceeds, that as the Iliad was written while his spirit was in its greatest vigour, the whole structure of that work is dramatic and full of action; whereas the greater part of the Odyssey is employed in narration, which is the taste of old age: so that in this latter piece we may compare him to the setting sun, which has still the same greatness, but not the same ardour or force. He speaks not in the same strain: we see no more that Sublime of the Iliad which marches on with a constant pace, without ever being stopped, or retarded: there appears no more that hurry and that strong tide of motions and passions, pouring one after another: there is no more the same fury, or the same volubility of diction, so suitable to action, and all along drawing in such innumerable images of Nature. But Homer, like the ocean, is always great, even when he ebbs and retires; even when he is lowest, and loses himself most in narrations and incredible fictions: as instances of this, we cannot forget the descriptions of tempests, the adventures of Ulysses with the Cyclops, and many others. But though all this be age, it is the age of Homer.—And it may be said for the credit of these fictions that they are beautiful dreams, or, if you will, the dreams of Jupiter himself. I spoke of the Odyssey only to show, that the greatest poets, when their genius wants strength and warmth for the pathetic, for the most part employ themselves in painting the manners. This Homer has done, in characterizing the suitors, and describing their way of life; which is properly a branch of comedy, whose peculiar business it is to represent the manners of men.’

We must first observe, it is the Sublime of which Longinus is writing: that, and not the nature of Homer’s poem, is his subject. After having highly extolled the sublimity and fire of the Iliad, he justly observes the Odyssey to have less of those qualities, and to turn more on the side of moral, and reflections on human life. Nor is it his business here to determine, whether the elevated spirit of the one, or the just moral of the other, be the greater excellence in itself.

Secondly, that fire and fury of which he is speaking, cannot well be meant of the general spirit and inspiration which is to run through a whole epic poem, but of that particular warmth and impetuosity necessary in some parts, to image or represent actions or passions, of haste, tumult, and violence. It is on occasion of citing some such particular passages in Homer, that Longinus breaks into this reflection; which seems to determine his meaning chiefly to that sense.

Upon the whole, he affirms the Odyssey to have less sublimity and fire than the Iliad, but he does not say it wants the Sublime or wants fire. He affirms it to be narrative, but not that the narration is defective. He affirms it to abound in fictions, not that those fictions are ill invented, or ill executed. He affirms it to be nice and particular in painting the manners, but not that those manners are ill painted. If Homer has fully in these points accomplished his own design, and done all that the nature of his poem demanded or allowed, it still remains perfect in its kind, and as much a master-piece as the Iliad.

The amount of the passage is this; that in his own particular taste, and with respect to the Sublime, Longinus preferred the Iliad: and because the Odyssey was less active and lofty, he judged it the work of the old age of Homer.

If this opinion be true, it will only prove, that Homer’s age might determine him in the choice of his subject, not that it affected him in the execution of it: and that which would be a very wrong instance to prove the decay of his imagination, is a very good one to evince the strength of his judgment. For had he, as Madam Dacier observes, composed the Odyssey in his youth, and the Iliad in his age, both must in reason have been exactly the same as they now stand. To blame Homer for his choice of such a subject, as did not admit the same incidents and the same pomp of style as his former, is to take offence at too much variety, and to imagine, that when a man has written one good thing, he must ever after only copy himself.

The Battle of Constantine, and the School of Athens, are both pieces of Raphael: shall we censure the School of Athens as faulty, because it has not the fury and fire of the other? or shall we say, that Raphael was grown grave and old, because he chose to represent the manners of old men and philosophers? There is all the silence, tranquility, and composure in the one, and all the warmth, hurry, and tumult in the other, which the subject of either required: both of them had been imperfect, if they had not been as they are. And let the painter or poet be young or old, who designs and performs in this manner, it proves him to have made the piece at a time of life when he was master not only of his art, but of his discretion.

Aristotle makes no such distinction between the two poems: he constantly cites them with equal praise, and draws the rules and examples of epic writing equally from both. But it is rather to the Odyssey that Horace gives the preference, in the Epistle to Lollius, and in the Art of Poetry. It is remarkable how opposite his opinion is to that of Longinus; and that the particulars he chooses to extol, are those very fictions and pictures of the manners, which the other seems least to approve. Those fables and manners are of the very essence of the work: but even without that regard, the fables themselves have both more invention and more instruction, and the manners more moral and example, than those of the Iliad.

In some points (and those the most essential to the epic poem) the Odyssey is confessed to excel the Iliad; and principally in the great end of it, the Moral. The conduct, turn, and disposition of the Fable is also what the critics allow to be the better model for epic writers to follow: accordingly we find much more of the cast of this poem than of the other in the Æneid, and (what next to that is perhaps the greatest example) in the Telemachus. In the Manners, it is no way inferior: Longinus is so far from finding any defect in these, that he rather taxes Homer with painting them too minutely. As to the Narrations, although they are more numerous as the occasions are more frequent, yet they carry no more the marks of old age, and are neither more prolix nor more circumstantial, than the conversations and dialogues of the Iliad. Not to mention the length of those of Phœnix in the ninth book, and of Nestor in the eleventh (which may be thought in compliance to their characters), those of Glaucus in the sixth, of Æneas in the twentieth, and some others, must be allowed to exceed any in the whole Odyssey. And that the propriety of style, and the numbers, in the narrations of each are equal, will appear to any who compare them.

To form a right judgment, whether the genius of Homer had suffered any decay, we must consider, in both his poems, such parts as are of a similar nature, and will bear comparison. And it is certain we shall find in each the same vivacity and fecundity of invention, the same life and strength of imaging and colouring, the particular descriptions as highly painted, the figures as bold, the metaphors as animated, and the numbers as harmonious and as various.

The Odyssey is a perpetual source of poetry: the stream is not the less full for being gentle; though it is true (when we speak only with regard to the Sublime) that a river, foaming and thundering in cataracts from rocks and precipices, is what more strikes, amazes, and fills the mind, than the same body of water, flowing afterwards through peaceful vales and agreeable scenes of pasturage.

The Odyssey (as I have before said) ought to be considered according to its own nature and design, not with an eye to the Iliad. To censure Homer because it is unlike what it was never meant to resemble, is, as if a gardener who had purposely cultivated two beautiful trees of contrary natures, as a specimen of his skill in the several kinds, should be blamed for not bringing them into pairs; when in root, stem, leaf, and flower, each was so entirely different, that one must have been spoiled in the endeavour to match the other.

Longinus, who saw this poem was “partly of the nature of comedy,” ought not, for that very reason, to have considered it with a view to the Iliad. How little any such resemblance was the intention of Homer, may appear from hence, that although the character of Ulysses there was already drawn, yet here he purposely turns to another side of it, and shows him not in that full light of glory, but in the shade of common life, with a mixture of such qualities as are requisite to all the lowest accidents of it, struggling with misfortunes, and on a level with the meanest of mankind. As for the other persons, none of them are above what we call the higher comedy: Calypso, though a Goddess, is a character of intrigue; the suitors yet more approaching to it; the Phæacians are of the same cast; the Cyclops, Melanthius, and Irus, descend even to droll characters; and the scenes that appear throughout, are generally of the comic kind; banquets, revels, sports, loves, and the pursuit of a woman.

From the nature of the poem, we shall form an idea of the Style. The diction is to follow the images, and to take its colour from the complexion of the thoughts. Accordingly the Odyssey is not always clothed in the majesty of verse proper to tragedy, but sometimes descends into the plainer narrative, and sometimes even to that familiar dialogue essential to comedy. However, where it cannot support a sublimity, it always preserves a dignity, or at least a propriety. There is a real beauty in an easy, pure, perspicuous description even of a low action. There are numerous instances of this both in Homer and Virgil; and perhaps those natural passages are not the least pleasing of their works. It is often the same in history, where the representations of common, or even domestic things, in clear, plain, and natural words, are frequently found to make the liveliest impression on the reader.

The question is, how far a poet, in pursuing the description or image of an action, can attach himself to little circumstances, without vulgarity or trifling? what particulars are proper, and enliven the image; or what are impertinent, and clog it? In this matter painting is to be consulted, and the whole regard had to those circumstances which contribute to form a full, and yet not a confused, idea of a thing. Epithets are of vast service to this effect, and the right use of these is often the only expedient to render the narration poetical. The great point of judgment is to distinguish when to speak simply, and when figuratively: but whenever the poet is obliged by the nature of his subject to descend to the lower manner of writing, an elevated style would be affected, and therefore ridiculous; and the more he was forced upon figures and metaphors to avoid that lowness, the more the image would be broken, and consequently obscure. One may add, that the use of the grand style on little subjects, is not only ludicrous, but a sort of transgression against the rules of proportion and mechanics: it is using a vast force to lift a feather.

I believe, now I am upon this head, it will be found a just observation, that the low actions of life cannot be put into a figurative style without being ridiculous, but things natural can. Metaphors raise the latter into dignity, as we see in the Georgics; but throw the former into ridicule, as in the Lutrin. I think this may very well be accounted for: laughter implies censure; inanimate and irrational beings are not objects of censure: therefore these may be elevated as much as you please, and no ridicule follows: but when rational beings are represented above their real character, it becomes ridiculous in art, because it is vicious in morality. The bees in Virgil, were they rational beings, would be ridiculous by having their actions and manners represented on a level with creatures so superior as men; since it would imply folly or pride, which are the proper objects of ridicule.

The use of pompous expression for low actions or thoughts is the true Sublime of Don Quixote. How far unfit it is for epic poetry, appears in its being the perfection of the mock epic. It is so far from being the sublime of tragedy, that it is the cause of all bombast; when poets, instead of being, as they imagine, constantly lofty, only preserve throughout a painful equality of fustian; that continued swell of language, which runs indiscriminately even through their lowest characters, and rattles like some mightiness of meaning in the most indifferent subjects, is of a piece with that perpetual elevation of tone which the players have learned from it; and which is not speaking, but vociferating.

There is still more reason for a variation of Style in epic poetry than in tragic, to distinguish between that language of the Gods proper to the Muse who sings, and is inspired; and that of men who are introduced speaking only according to nature. Father, there ought to be a difference of style observed in the speeches of human persons, and those of deities; and again, in those which may be called set harangues, or orations, and those which are only conversation or dialogue. Homer has more of the latter than any other poet: what Virgil does by two or three words of narration, Homer still performs by speeches: not only replies, but even rejoinders are frequent in him, a practice almost unknown to Virgil. This renders his poems more animated, but less grave and majestic; and consequently necessitates the frequent use of a lower style. The writers of tragedy lie under the same necessity, if they would copy nature: whereas that painted and poetical diction which they perpetually use, would be improper even in orations designed to move with all the arts of rhetoric; this is plain from the practice of Demosthenes and Cicero; and Virgil in those of Drances and Turnus gives an eminent example, how far removed the style of them ought to be from such an excess of figures and ornaments: which indeed fits only that language of the Gods we have been speaking of, or that of a muse under inspiration.

To read through a whole work in this strain, is like travelling all along on the ridge of a hill; which is not half so agreeable as sometimes gradually to rise, and sometimes gently to descend, as the way leads, and as the end of the journey directs. Indeed the true reason that so few poets have imitated Homer in these lower parts, has been the extreme difficulty of preserving that mixture of ease and dignity essential to them. For it is as hard for an epic poem to stoop to the narrative with success, as for a Prince to descend to be familiar, without diminution to his greatness.

The sublime style is more easily counterfeited than the natural; something that passes for it, or sounds like it, is common to all false writers: but nature, purity, perspicuity, and simplicity, never walk in the clouds; they are obvious to all capacities; and where they are not evident, they do not exist. The most plain narration not only admits of these, and of harmony (which are all the qualities of style) but it requires every one of them to render it pleasing. On the contrary, whatever pretends to a share of the sublime, may pass, notwithstanding any defects in the rest; nay sometimes without any of them, and gain the admiration of all ordinary readers.

Homer, in his lowest narrations or speeches, is ever easy, flowing, copious, clear, and harmonious. He shows not less Invention, in assembling the humbler, than the greater, thoughts and images; nor less Judgment, in proportioning the style and the versification to these, than to the other. Let it be remembered, that the same genius that soared the highest, and from whom the greatest models of the Sublime are derived, was also he who stooped the lowest, and gave to the simple Narrative its utmost perfection. Which of these was the harder task to Homer himself, I cannot pretend to determine; but to his translator I can affirm (however unequal all his imitations must be) that of the latter has been much more difficult.

Whoever expects here the same pomp of verse, and the same ornaments of diction, as in the Iliad, he will, and he ought to be, disappointed. Were the original otherwise, it had been an offence against Nature; and were the translation so, it were an offence against Homer, which is the same thing.

It must be allowed that there is a majesty and harmony in the Greek language which greatly contribute to elevate and support the narration. But I must also observe that this is an advantage grown upon the language since Homer’s time; for things are removed from vulgarity by being out of use: and if the words we could find in any present language were equally sonorous or musical in themselves, they would still appear less poetical and uncommon than those of a dead one, from this only circumstance, of being in every man’s mouth. I may add to this another disadvantage to a translator, from a different cause: Homer seems to have taken upon him the character of an historian, antiquary, divine, and professor of arts and sciences, as well as a poet. In one or other of these characters he descends into many particulars, which as a poet only perhaps he would have avoided. All these ought to be preserved by a faithful translator, who in some measure takes the place of Homer; and all that can be expected from him is to make them as poetical as the subject will bear. Many arts, therefore, are requisite to supply these disadvantages, in order to dignify and solemnize these plainer parts, which hardly admit of any poetical ornaments.

Some use has been made to this end of the style of Milton. A just and moderate mixture of old words may have an effect like the working old abbey stones into a building, which I have sometimes seen to give a kind of venerable air, and yet not destroy the neatness, elegance, and equality requisite to a new work: I mean without rendering it too unfamiliar, or remote from the present purity of writing, or from that ease and smoothness which ought always to accompany narration or dialogue. In reading a style judiciously antiquated, one finds a pleasure not unlike that of travelling on an old Roman way: but then the road must be as good, as the way is ancient; the style must be such in which we may evenly proceed, without being put to short stops by sudden abruptness, or puzzled by frequent turnings and transpositions. No man delights in furrows and stumbling-blocks: and let our love to antiquity be ever so great, a fine ruin is one thing, and a heap of rubbish another. The imitators of Milton, like most other imitators, are not copies but caricatures of their original; they are a hundred times more obsolete and cramp than he, and equally so in all places: whereas it should have been observed of Milton, that he is not lavish of his exotic words and phrases every where alike, but employs them much more where the subject is marvellous, vast, and strange, as in the scenes of Heaven, Hell, Chaos, &c., than where it is turned to the natural or agreeable, as in the pictures of paradise, the loves of our first parents, the entertainments of angels, and the like. In general, this unusual style better serves to awaken our ideas in the descriptions and in the imaging and picturesque parts, than it agrees with the lower sort of narrations, the character of which is simplicity and purity. Milton has several of the latter, where we find not an antiquated, affected, or uncouth word, for some hundred lines together; as in his fifth book, the latter part of the eighth, the former of the tenth and eleventh books, and in the narration of Michael in the twelfth. I wonder indeed that he, who ventured (contrary to the practice of all other Epic Poets) to imitate Homer’s lownesses in the narrative, should not also have copied his plainness and perspicuity in the dramatic parts: since in his speeches (where clearness above all is necessary) there is frequently such transposition and forced construction, that the very sense is not to be discovered without a second or third reading: and in this certainly he ought to be no example.

To preserve the true character of Homer’s style in the present translation, great pains have been taken to be easy and natural. The chief merit I can pretend to, is, not to have been carried into a more plausible and figurative manner of writing, which would better have pleased all readers, but the judicious ones. My errors had been fewer, had each of those gentlemen who joined with me shown as much of the severity of a friend to me, as I did to them, in a strict animadversion and correction. What assistance I received from them, was made known in general to the public in the original proposals for this work, and the particulars are specified at the conclusion of it; to which I must add (to be punctually just) some part of the tenth and fifteenth books. The reader will now be too good a judge, how much the greater part of it, and consequently of its faults, is chargeable upon me alone. But this I can with integrity affirm, that I have bestowed as much time and pains upon the whole, as were consistent with the indispensable duties and cares of life, and with that wretched state of health which God has been pleased to make my portion. At the least, it is a pleasure to me to reflect, that I have introduced into our language this other work of the greatest and most ancient of poets, with some dignity; and I hope, with as little disadvantage as the Iliad. And if, after the unmerited success of that translation, any one will wonder why I would enterprise the Odyssey; I think it sufficient to say, that Homer himself did the same, or the world would never have seen it.

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THE ODYSSEY

BOOK III

THE INTERVIEW OF TELEMACHUS AND NESTOR

BOOK V

THE DEPARTURE OF ULYSSES FROM CALYPSO

BOOK VII

THE COURT OF ALCINOÜS

BOOK IX

THE ADVENTURES OF THE CICONS, LOTOPHAGI, AND CYCLOPS

BOOK X

ADVENTURES WITH ÆOLUS, THE LÆSTRYGONS, AND CIRCE

BOOK XIII

THE ARRIVAL OF ULYSSES IN ITHACA

BOOK XIV

THE CONVERSATION WITH EUMÆUS

BOOK XV

THE RETURN OF TELEMACHUS

BOOK XVII

BOOK XXI

THE BENDING OF ULYSSES’ BOW

BOOK XXII

THE DEATH OF THE SUITORS

BOOK XXIV

POSTSCRIPT BY POPE