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Front Page Titles (by Subject) BOOK XXII: THE DEATH OF THE SUITORS - The Complete Poetical Works of Alexander Pope
BOOK XXII: THE DEATH OF THE SUITORS - Alexander Pope, The Complete Poetical Works of Alexander Pope [1903]Edition used:The Complete Poetical Works of Alexander Pope. Cambridge Edition, ed. Henry W. Boynton (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Co., 1903).
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- Editor’s Note
- Biographical Sketch
- Early Poems
- Ode On Solitude
- A Paraphrase (on Thomas À Kempis, L. III. C. 2)
- To the Author of a Poem Entitled Successio [ ]
- The First Book of Statius’s Thebais Translated In the Year 1703
- Imitations of English Poets
- Chaucer
- Spenser [ ] the Alley
- Waller On a Lady Singing to Her Lute
- Cowley the Garden
- Weeping
- Earl of Rochester On Silence
- Earl of Dorset Artemisia
- Dr. Swift the Happy Life of a Country Parson
- Pastorals
- Discourse On Pastoral Poetry
- I: Spring; Or, Damon [ ] to Sir William Trumbull
- II: Summer; Or, Alexis to Dr. Garth
- III: Autumn; Or, Hylas and Ægon [ ] to Mr. Wycherley
- IV: Winter; Or, Daphne [ ] to the Memory of Mrs. Tempest
- Windsor Forest [ ] to the Right Hon. George Lord Lansdown
- Paraphrases From Chaucer
- January and May: Or, the Merchant’s Tale
- The Wife of Bath Her Prologue
- The Temple of Fame [ ]
- Translations From Ovid
- Sappho to Phaon From the Fifteenth of Ovid’s Epistles
- The Fable of Dryope [ ] From the Ninth Book of Ovid’s Metamorphoses
- Vertumnus and Pomona From the Fourteenth Book of Ovid’s Metamorphoses
- An Essay On Criticism [ ]
- Part I
- Part Ii
- Part Iii
- Poems Written Between 1708 and 1712
- Ode For Music On St. Cecilia’s Day
- Argus
- The Balance of Europe
- The Translator
- On Mrs. Tofts, a Famous Opera-singer
- Epistle to Mrs. Blount, With the Works of Voiture.
- The Dying Christian to His Soul
- Epistle to Mr. Jervas [ ] With Dryden’s Translation of Fresnoy’s Art of Painting
- Impromptu to Lady Winchilsea Occasioned By Four Satirical Verses On Women Wits, In the Rape of the Lock
- Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady
- Messiah
- The Rape of the Lock an Heroi-comical Poem [ ]
- Canto I
- Canto Ii
- Canto Iii
- Canto Iv
- Canto V
- Poems Written Between 1713 and 1717
- Prologue to Mr. Addison’s Cato
- Epilogue to Mr. Rowe’s Jane Shore Designed For Mrs. Oldfield
- To a Lady, With the Temple of Fame
- Upon the Duke of Marlborough’s House At Woodstock
- Lines to Lord Bathurst
- Macer [ ] a Character
- Epistle to Mrs. Teresa Blount On Her Leaving the Town After the Coronation
- Lines Occasioned By Some Verses of His Grace the Duke of Buckingham
- A Farewell to London [ ] In the Year 1715
- Imitation of Martial
- Imitation of Tibullus
- The Basset-table [ ] an Eclogue
- Epigram On the Toasts of the Kit-cat Club [ ] Anno 1716
- The Challenge a Court Ballad
- The Looking-glass On Mrs. Pulteney
- Prologue, Designed For Mr. D’urfey’s Last Play
- Prologue to the ‘three Hours After Marriage’
- Prayer of Brutus From Geoffrey of Monmouth
- To Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
- Extemporaneous Lines On a Portrait of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, Painted By Kneller
- Eloisa to Abelard [ ]
- Poems Written Between 1718 and 1727
- An Inscription Upon a Punch-bowl In the South Sea Year, For a Club: Chased With Jupiter Placing Callisto In the Skies, and Europa With the Bull
- Epistle to James Craggs, Esq. Secretary of State
- A Dialogue
- Verses to Mr. C. St. James’s Palace, London, Oct. 22
- To Mr. Gay Who Had Congratulated Pope On Finishing His House and Gardens
- On Drawings of the Statues of Apollo, Venus, and Hercules Made For Pope By Sir Godfrey Kneller
- Epistle to Robert Earl of Oxford and Mortimer Prefixed to Parnell’s Poems
- Two Choruses to the Tragedy of Brutus
- To Mrs. M. B. On Her Birthday
- Answer to the Following Question of Mrs. Howe
- On a Certain Lady At Court
- To Mr. John Moore Author of the Celebrated Worm-powder
- The Curll Miscellanies Umbra
- Poems Suggested By Gulliver
- Later Poems
- On Certain Ladies
- Celia
- Prologue to a Play For Mr. Dennis’s Benefit, In 1733, When He Was Old, Blind, and In Great Distress, a Little Before His Death
- Song, By a Person of Quality Written In the Year 1733
- Verses Left By Mr. Pope On His Lying In the Same Bed Which Wilmot, the Celebrated Earl of Rochester, Slept In At Adderbury, Then Belonging to the Duke of Argyle, July 9th, 1739
- On His Grotto At Twickenham Composed of Marbles, Spars, Gems, Ores, and Minerals
- On Receiving From the Right Hon. the Lady Frances Shirley a Standish and Two Pens
- On Beaufort House Gate At Chiswick
- To Mr. Thomas Southern On His Birthday, 1742
- Epigram
- 1740: A Poem [ ]
- Poems of Uncertain Date
- To Erinna
- Lines Written In Windsor Forest
- Verbatim From Boileau First Published By Warburton In 1751
- Lines On Swift’s Ancestors
- On Seeing the Ladies At Crux Easton Walk In the Woods By the Grotto Extempore By Mr. Pope
- Inscription On a Grotto, the Work of Nine Ladies
- To the Right Hon. the Earl of Oxford Upon a Piece of News In Mist [mist’s Journal] That the Rev. Mr. W. Refused to Write Against Mr. Pope Because His Best Patron Had a Friendship For the Said Pope
- Epigrams and Epitaphs
- On a Picture of Queen Caroline Drawn By Lady Burlington
- Epigram Engraved On the Collar of a Dog Which I Gave to His Royal Highness
- Lines Written In Evelyn’s Book On Coins
- From the Grub-street Journal
- I: Epigram
- II: Epigram
- III: Mr. J. M. S[myth]e Catechised On His One Epistle to Mr. Pope
- IV: Epigram On Mr. M[oo]re’s Going to Law With Mr. Giliver: Inscribed to Attorney Tibbald
- V: Epigram
- VI: Epitaph On James Moore-smythe
- VII: A Question By Anonymous
- VIII: Epigram
- IX: Epigram
- Epitaphs
- On Charles Earl of Dorset In the Church of Withyam, Sussex
- On Sir William Trumbull One of the Principal Secretaries of State to King William Iii
- On the Hon. Simon Harcourt Only Son of the Lord Chancellor Harcourt
- On James Craggs, Esq. In Westminster Abbey
- On Mr. Rowe In Westminster Abbey
- On Mrs. Corbet Who Died of a Cancer In Her Breast
- On the Monument of the Hon. R. Digby and of His Sister Mary Erected By Their Father, Lord Digby, In the Church of Sherborne, In Dorsetshire, 1727.
- On Sir Godfrey Kneller In Westminster Abbey, 1723
- On General Henry Withers In Westminster Abbey, 1729
- On Mr. Elijah Fenton At Easthamstead, Berks, 1729
- On Mr. Gay In Westminster Abbey, 1730
- Intended For Sir Isaac Newton In Westminster Abbey
- On Dr. Francis Atterbury Bishop of Rochester, Who Died In Exile At Paris, 1732
- On Edmund Duke of Buckingham Who Died In the Nineteenth Year of His Age, 1735
- For One Who Would Not Be Buried In Westminster Abbey
- Another On the Same
- On Two Lovers Struck Dead By Lightning
- Epitaph
- An Essay On Man [ ]
- In Four Epistles to Lord Bolingbroke
- The Design
- Epistle I of the Nature and State of Man, With Respect to the Universe
- Epistle Ii of the Nature and State of Man With Respect to Himself As an Individual
- Epistle Iii of the Nature and State of Man With Respect to Society
- Epistle Iv of the Nature and State of Man, With Respect to Happiness
- Moral Essays
- Advertisement
- Epistle I [ ] to Sir Richard Temple, Lord Cobham
- Epistle Ii [ ] to a Lady of the Characters of Women
- Epistle Iii [ ] to Allen, Lord Bathurst
- Epistle IV: To Richard Boyle, Earl of Burlington of the Use of Riches
- Epistle V: To Mr. Addison Occasioned By His Dialogues On Medals
- Universal Prayer Deo Opt. Max.
- Satires
- Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot [ ] Being the Prologue to the Satires
- Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace Imitated [ ]
- Advertisement
- The First Satire of the Second Book of Horace
- The Second Satire of the Second Book of Horace [ ]
- The First Epistle of the First Book of Horace [ ]
- The Sixth Epistle of the First Book of Horace [ ]
- The First Epistle of the Second Book of Horace [ ]
- The Second Epistle of the Second Book of Horace [ ]
- Satires of Dr. John Donne, Dean of St. Paul’s, Versified [ ]
- Epilogue to the Satires [ ] In Two Dialogues. Written In 1738
- The Sixth Satire of the Second Book of Horace [ ]
- The Seventh Epistle of the First Book of Horace [ ]
- The First Ode of the Fourth Book of Horace [ ]
- The Ninth Ode of the Fourth Book of Horace
- The Dunciad In Four Books
- Martinus Scriblerus of the Poem
- Preface Prefixed to the Five First Imperfect Editions of the Dunciad, In Three Books, Printed At Dublin and London, In Octavo and Duodecimo, 1727.
- The Publisher to the Reader
- A Letter to the Publisher Occasioned By the First Correct Edition of the Dunciad
- Advertisement to the First Edition With Notes, Quarto, 1729
- Advertisement to the First Edition of the Fourth Book of the Dunciad, When Printed Separately In the Year 1742
- Advertisement to the Complete Edition of 1743
- The Dunciad [ ] to Dr. Jonathan Swift
- Book I
- Book Ii [ ]
- Book Iii [ ]
- Book Iv [ ]
- Translations From Homer the Iliad
- Pope’s Preface
- Book I: The Contention of Achilles and Agamemnon
- Book II: The Trial of the Army and Catalogue of the Forces
- Book III: The Duel of Menelaus and Paris
- Book IV: The Breach of the Truce, and the First Battle
- Book V: The Acts of Diomed
- Book VI: The Episodes of Glaucus and Diomed, and of Hector and Andromache
- Book VII: The Single Combat of Hector and Ajax
- Book VIII: The Second Battle, and the Distress of the Greeks
- Book IX: The Embassy to Achilles
- Book X: The Night Adventure of Diomede and Ulysses
- Book XI: The Third Battle, and the Acts of Agamemnon
- Book XII: The Battle At the Grecian Wall
- Book XIII: The Fourth Battle Continued, In Which Neptune Assists the Greeks. the Acts of Idomeneus
- Book XIV: Juno Deceives Jupiter By the Girdle of Venus
- Book XV: The Fifth Battle, At the Ships; and the Acts of Ajax
- Book XVI: The Sixth Battle: the Acts and Death of Patroclus
- Book XVII: The Seventh Battle, For the Body of Patroclus.—the Acts of Menelaus
- Book XVIII: The Grief of Achilles, and New Armour Made Him By Vulcan
- Book XIX: The Reconciliation of Achilles and Agamemnon
- Book XX: The Battle of the Gods, and the Acts of Achilles
- Book XXI: The Battle In the River Scamander
- Book XXII: The Death of Hector
- Book XXIII: Funeral Games In Honour of Patroclus
- Book XXIV: The Redemption of the Body of Hector
- Pope’s Concluding Note.
- 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
- Appendix
- A. a Glossary of Names of Pope’s Contemporaries Mentioned In the Poems.
- Bibliographical Note
BOOK XXII
THE DEATH OF THE SUITORS
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.
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