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The English Works of Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury; Now First Collected and Edited by Sir William Molesworth, Bart., (London: Bohn, 1839-45). 11 vols. Vol. 10.

Author: Homer
Translator: Thomas Hobbes
Editor: Sir William Molesworth

Part of: The English Works of Thomas Hobbes, 11 vols.

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LIB. I.

In a council of the Gods (Neptune absent) Pallas procureth an order for the restitution of Ulysses, and appearing to his son Telemachus in human shape, adviseth him to complain of the suitors before the council of the Lords, and then to go to Pylus and Sparta to enquire about his father.
Tell me, O Muse, th’ adventures of the man
That having sack’d the sacred town of Troy,
Wander’d so long at sea; what course he ran
By winds and tempests driven from his way:
5That saw the cities, and the fashions knew

Of many men, but suffer’d grievous pain
To save his own life, and bring home his crew;
Though for his crew, all he could do was vain,
They lost themselves by their own insolence,
10Feeding, like fools, on the Sun’s sacred kine;

Which did the splendid deity incense
To their dire fate. Begin, O Muse divine.
The Greeks from Troy were all returned home,
All that the war and winds had spar’d, except
15The discontent Ulysses only; whom

In hollow caves the nymph Calypso kept.
But when the years and days were come about,
Wherein was woven his return by fate
To Ithaca (but neither there without
20Great pain), the Gods then pitied his estate,

All saving Neptune; who did never cease
To hinder him from reaching his own shore,
And persecute him still upon the seas
Till he got home, then troubled him no more.
25Neptune was now far off in Black-moor land;

The Black-moors are the utmost of mankind,
As far as east and west asunder stand,
So far the Black-moors’ borders are disjoin’d.
Invited there to feast on ram and bull,
30There sat he merry. Th’ other Gods were then

Met on Olympus in a synod full,
In th’ house of Jove, father of Gods and men.
And first spake Jove, whose thoughts were now upon
Ægistus’ death, which he but then first knew,
35By th’ hand of Agamemnon’s valiant son,

Who to revenge his father’s blood him slew.
Ha! how dare mortals tax the Gods, and say,
Their harms do all proceed from our decree,
And by our setting; when by their crimes they
40Against our wills make their own destiny?

As now Ægistus did Atrides kill
Newly come home, and married his wife;
Although he knew it was against my will,
And that it would cost him one day his life.
45Sent we not Hermes to him to forbid

The murder, and the marriage of the wife;
And tell him if the contrary he did
Orestes should revenge it on his life?
All this said Hermes, as we bade him. But
50Ægistus, for all this, was not afraid

His lust in execution to put.
And therefore now has dearly for it paid.
Then Pallas moved on Ulysses’ part,
And said, O Father Jove, the king of kings,
55Ægistus’ fate was fit for his desert,

So let them perish all that do such things.
’Tis for Ulysses that I live in pain,
Poor man, long absent from his friends, forlorn,
In a small isle, the centre of the main;
60Kept from his home, doth nought but grieve and mourn.

The isle is beautified with goodly trees,
And in it dwells a nymph. Her father’s name
Atlas, that all the depths of the ocean sees,
And beareth up the pillars of the same,
65And heaven and earth to boot. His daughter ’tis

That with fair words and gentle courtesy
Detains Ulysses. And her meaning is
For ever there to have his company.
Whilst he, alas! e’en dies for very grief.
70To see the smoke of Ithaca he wishes,

And would take that for some, though small relief.
And yet you are not mov’d. Were not Ulysses
His sacrifices on the Trojan shore
Both free and bountiful? They were, you know:
75In th’ Argive camp, I dare say, no man’s more.

Why, therefore, Father, should you hate him so?
To her the mighty Jove made this reply.
Child, what a word is this that you let fall?
Do I neglect Ulysses, or do I
80Ulysses hate, that amongst mortals all

For wisdom and for piety excels?
Neptune, that backs and shakes the earth, ’tis he
Whose breast with anger and revenge still swells
Against him, for his son’s calamity,
85The godlike Polypheme, Cyclops the great,

Whom on Thoosa, Phorcys’ daughter brave,
Neptune the king of waters did beget,
Embracing her within a hollow cave;
And him Ulysses has depriv’d of sight.
90For which, though Neptune do not him destroy,

He crosses him with dangers day and night,
And drives him up and down out of his way.
But well, let us that are assembled now
Bethink us how to bring him home. ’Tis odds
95’Twill cool his rage. He has not strength enough

T’ oppose the power of all the other Gods.
Then Pallas said, O Jove, of kings the king,
Since the blest Gods have thought good, and decreed
Ulysses to his native soil to bring,
100Let’s Hermes send unto the nymph with speed,

In th’ isle Ogygia, to let her know
Our sentence, that she may the same obey.
And I to Ithaca meanwhile will go,
And cause his son to call without delay
105The common council; and to make him bold,

To warn his mother’s suitors to be gone,
And feast no longer on his herd and fold,
As they before had insolently done.
To Sparta too I’ll send him, and to Pyle
110T’ inquire about his father’s navigation,

That in the world, by travel for a while,
He may acquire a greater reputation.
This said, upon her feet her shoes she binds,
Ambrosian golden shoes, that do her bear
115On land and water swiftly as the winds,

And takes in hand her brazen-headed spear;
A heavy, massy, and strong spear, the same
Wherewith, when angry, she the armed bands
Of mighty men of war does eas’ly tame.
120That was the spear she carried in her hands.

Then from the high Olympus leapt she down
T’ Ulysses’ house, and stood in the hall-door
I’ th’ shape of Mentes, that possess’d the crown
O’ th’ Taphian people, whom he reigned o’er.
125And thence beheld the suitors in the court,

Sitting upon the hides of beeves, which they
Themselves had kill’d, and, wanting other sport,
Playing at chess they pass’d their time away.
Meanwhile their officers and serving-men
130Were busy mingling water with the wine,

Others the meat divide, others make clean,
Set up and rub the tables till they shine.
Telemachus now with the suitors sat,
Fancying, in case his father should appear,
135Brought home by the Gods or by some lucky fate,

How then these knaves would slink away for fear;
And he again recover his estate,
And in his own land rule without a peer.
He was the first that spied the Goddess, and
140Then presently he hast’ned to the door;

Receives her spear and takes her by the hand,
And both go in, she after, he before.
You shall, said he, stranger be welcome here:
But first let’s sup, and afterwards we’ll find
145Sufficient time both for me to inquire,

And you to tell your business and your mind.
When they were come into the stately hall,
Her spear within a case he sets upright,
T’ a pillar, in which case the spears were all
150His father left behind going to fight.

Then led her to a chair which stood upon
A dainty carpet curiously wrought,
And put t’ her feet a stool to rest upon,
And for himself a handsome stool he brought:
155Then did a maid, in a fine golden ewer,

Bring water for their hands, and pours it on
Over a bason large of silver pure,
And set a table to them, for both one:
From others’ seats remoter than to fear
160Their rudeness might offend her, or that they

Might peradventure listening overhear
What he and she did of Ulysses say.
Another sets on bread and other things
To eat, such as in her charge were at home.
165But flesh of many sorts the carver brings,

And the cup-bearers often go and come.
Then came the suitors in, and took their places
All in a row. To each a table stands,
And golden bowl, one way look all their faces,
170The waiters bring in water for their hands.

The maids in baskets bring both bread and meat,
On which they lay their hands with great good will,
And heartily and hastily they eat,
And to the brim their cups the servants fill.
175When they of hunger had pluck’d out the sting,

The lusty suitors’ thoughts converted were
To dancing, and to hear the minstrel sing,
Sports these are consecrated to good cheer.
To Phemius, the minstrel, that was by,
180Unwillingly, forc’d by th’ unruly throng,

They brought a cittern, and he presently
Began to play, and then to sing a song.
But to the Goddess Pallas, in her ear
Telemachus began to speak his mind,
185Not being willing any else should hear.

Excuse me, friend, that I say what I find.
You see the care of these men what it is,
Singing and dancing. And no wonder, since
That which they spend is not their own, but his
190Whose bones lie somewhere naked far from hence,

Unburied, it may be, on the ground,
There rotting as he lies i’ th’ dew and rain;
Or else at sea, perhaps, if he be drown’d,
The waves his body roll upon the main.
195If him at home the best of them should meet

Safely arriv’d in Ithaca, he would
Much rather wish, I think, for nimble feet,
Than to be rich in garment or in gold.
But, oh! he’s dead, and of some cruel death;
200And though some tell us he is coming home,

’Tis comfortless, for he’s bereav’d of breath.
To Ithaca I ne’er shall see him come.
But let this pass, and tell me truly now
Your own, your father’s, and your country’s name.
205And further, I desire you’ll let me know,

Whence are the mariners that with you came
Unto this town? and tell me this likewise,
Where rideth the good ship that brought you to’t;
For verily I can no way devise
210How you should come on horseback or on foot?

And tell me, were you never here before,
Nor saw my father whilst he here abode?
For strangers came to visit him good store,
As having much convers’d with men abroad.
215I’ll clearly speak, said Pallas, t’ every thing.

My father was Anchialus, and I
Mentes, my city Taphos, and I king;
My people to the oar themselves apply.
At present bound I am to Temisa
220For brass; and iron I carry with me thither.

Under Mount Neion, not near Ithaca,
My ship at Reithrus rideth safe from weather.
As for your father, we were mutual guests
(Ask the old lord Laertes) from our youth.
225With one old maid alone his meat to dress,

He lives at’s country house, he’ll tell you truth.
There creeps he in his vineyard up and down.
And I came hither now, ’cause I was told
By some, his son Ulysses was in town.
230But ’tis not so. The Gods do him withhold

From his dear wife, and native country still
Within an island, where the savage men
By force detain him much against his will:
But all in vain, he shall return again.
235For I presage, and come it shall to pass,

That am no prophet, nor birds understand;
Though he were tied there with chains of brass,
He shall get loose and see his native land.
But say, are you indeed, that are so grown,
240His son? Your heads and eyes are like, I mark,

For we were well to one another known;
But ’twas before he did for Troy embark
With other princes of the Argive youth;
But never saw him since. That I’m his son,
245Said he, my mother says. But who in truth

Knoweth who ’twas that got him? I think none.
If I might choose my father, I would be
His son that groweth old on’s own estate.
But whom they tell me is my father, he
250Of all men is the most unfortunate.

Then said the Goddess, Howsoe’er that be,
The Gods will never nameless leave your kind,
That are the son of fair Penelope,
And so well fram’d in body and in mind.
255But say, What feast is this, and who these be?

You have no cause to feast. Their conversation
Pleases me not. ’Tis rude, unmannerly.
What! is’t a wedding, or is’t a collation?
Friend, since you ask, said he, take the whole story.
260This house was rich, my father being here,

But th’ unkind Gods have taken hence that glory:
For where he is, a word we cannot hear.
Less had I griev’d, if he his life had lost
With other Argive lords under Troy wall,
265Or, the war done, ’mongst those that love him most.

Then had he had a noble funeral,
At which th’ Achæan princes would have been,
And the honour had redounded to his son.
But now, alas! devour’d by harpies keen,
270Unheard-of and unask’d-for he is gone,

Leaving me here behind to sigh and groan.
Besides, the Gods have giv’n me other care,
Bitter enough. ’Tis not for him alone
My heart is rent. There other mischiefs are.
275How many lords within these isles do sway!

Samé, Dulichium, Ithaca, and Zant;
So many suitors duly every day
For marriage with my mother the house haunt.
Whilst she can none put off, and will none marry,
280They spend my corn and wine, and cattle kill,

And eating here and drinking still they tarry,
And me perhaps at last they murder will.
Then Pallas said, Is’t so? ’Tis time indeed
Your father hither were come back again,
285Having so long been absent hence, with speed

To lay his hands upon these shameless men.
Oh! that just now within the gates he stood
Of th’ outer court, I would desire no more,
Arm’d with two spears, buckler, and helmet good,
290Such now, as I have seen him heretofore.

From Ephyré he took our house in’s way,
Where first I saw him merry drinking wine.
For he had been with Ilus, him to pray
To give him for his shafts a medicine,
295Wherewith to make them all they wound to kill.

But he refus’d, fearing the powers above.
And ’twas my father gave’t him for good will:
For why, he did him very dearly love.
If, such as then, Ulysses should appear
300Amongst the suitors now, short liv’d I trow

They’d be, and have but bitter wedding cheer.
But when he shall come home, Gods only know,
Or whether you shall see him any more.
Meanwhile consider by what means you may
305Get the unruly suitors out of door,

That so oppress you, and your house annoy.
And first observe what I shall you advise.
Convoke the people to the market-place;
Protest the Gods against their injuries,
310And let the whole assembly know your case.

Say, if they needs will wed her, let her go
Back to her father, who the match should make,
And offer for her what is fit; and so
Which of them she likes best, him let her take.
315And for yourself, I think it your best way,

In a good bark of twenty oars abroad
T’ inquire what men can of your father say,
Or what some lucky sign from Jove may bode.
Go first to Pyle, inquire of Nestor; then
320To Sparta. Ask of Menelaus, whom

Of all which had at Troy commanded men
The Gods t’ Achaia brought the latest home.
If of his safety and return you hear,
How much soever they waste your estate,
325Endure their riot yet another year.

If dead, come back, and fairly celebrate
His rites, and give your mother whom she will
For husband. Then bethink you, how you may
By open force, or howsoever kill
330These shameless suitors that your means destroy.

Be fool’d no more. You’re now at man’s estate.
Ægistus slew Orestes’ father. He
Ægistus slew. Who does not this relate
With honour to Orestes’ memory?
335And you, my friend, you are a goodly man.

Take heart. Gain honour. I must now be gone;
My crew with patience no longer can
Stay for me, therefore think what’s to be done.
Your counsel, said Telemachus, is such
340As might become a father to his son.

I’ll not forget it. Though your haste be much,
Stay yet awhile; be not so quickly gone.
Wash and take food, and then go merrily;
And with you a fair present from me take,
345Whereby to keep me in your memory;

Such as kind friends to one another make.
Then said the Goddess, Now I cannot stay.
As for your present I will not deny it,
But take it at my coming back this way,
350How much soe’er you mean t’ oblige me by it.

This said, she mounted from him to the sky
In likeness of an eagle, to his wonder,
Who thought it was some God, and grew thereby
Bolder, and on his father more did ponder.
355And straightway to the suitors went, who were

Now come again into the house, and seated,
A song which Phemius then sung to hear,
Containing how the Grecians retreated
Unfortunately from the Trojan shore
360By Pallas’ doings, whom they had offended.

Penelope that heard it, and was more
Concerned than they all, straightway descended.
She ent’red not, but in the door did stand,
Veil’d with a scarf which on her head she wore,
365Having a waiting-woman on each hand;

And to the singer thus said, weeping sore:
Phemius, y’ have better songs, why sing you then
This sad one? Fitter ’twere the deeds to tell
Of mighty Gods, and mighty deeds of men,
370Which sure would please the company as well.

Sing one of those, and let them hear and drink;
Give over this. You touch my interest,
And wound my heart in forcing me to think
Upon my husband, of all Greeks the best.
375Then said Telemachus, Good mother, why

Should not the singer choose what song to sing,
Whose part it is to please the company?
It is not he that does the evil bring.
’Tis none of Phemius’ fault, but th’ act of Jove,
380Who deals to all men all things as he please.

Should he not sing the songs that men most love,
The new’st? The Greeks’ sad passage o’er the seas?
Be patient, many more besides Ulysses,
Come short from Troy by one fate or another,
385Nor are you the only wife her husband misses.

Many men else are lost. Therefore, good mother,
Go to your work again above, and see
Your maids do theirs, leave censuring of songs
Unto us men, and specially to me,
390To whom the greatest power here belongs.

Then to her chamber up she went again,
With her two maids, and there began to weep,
Being for her dear husband in great pain,
And wept till Pallas clos’d her eyes with sleep.
395Meanwhile the suitors into clusters ran,

And one t’ another his thoughts uttered
With noise enough. But there was not a man
That did not wish to have her in his bed.
Then to them spake Telemachus: D’ye hear,
400Proud suitors of my mother, let’s, I pray,

Give ear unto the singer, and forbear
Clamour. To-morrow is the council day,
There I shall warn you publicly, no more
To haunt my house, but each man home to go,
405And there to feast by turns on your own store;

And if you be not willing to do so,
But your own means to spare, shall think it best
To feast yourselves on one man’s substance all,
And ruin his estate, go on and feast,
410While I upon the Gods for vengeance call.

O that the mighty Jove would so ordain,
That all men’s actions might be repaid
As they deserve! Then should you all be slain
Within my doors. After he this had said,
415The suitors bit their lips, and silent mused

At the strange boldness of Telemachus,
And at the language which the young man used,
To which none answer’d but Antinous.
The Gods, quoth he, have taught you a high strain
420Of language, and undaunted oratory;

But if their meaning were that you should reign
Here, o’er us all, I should be very sorry.
Telemachus replied, Think what you will;
If Jove consent, why should not I be king?
425What harm is it with wealth my house to fill,

Besides the honour it will with it bring?
In Ithaca there many princes be,
You’ll say, would be as glad to rule as I.
No matter, whosoe’er be king, not he,
430But I am king in my own family.

Who, said Eurymachus, shall have the hap
To reign in Ithaca is hard to guess,
It lies yet folded up within Jove’s lap.
None shall, Telemachus, you dispossess
435Of house, or land, or goods, by violence,

As long as there in Ithaca be men.
But tell me who that was, that now went hence;
Where he was born, and where he dwells, and then
His errand, whether business of his own,
440Or some news from Ulysses, brought perchance,

And went so soon away, t’ avoid being known?
He was no mean man by his countenance.
Then said Telemachus, My father’s dead,
We never shall again see one another;
445With messengers I trouble not my head,

Nor soothsayers, that do but soothe my mother.
The man my father’s old acquaintance was,
Mentes Anchialides, and his town
Taphos, and he thereof the ruling has;
450His people for their trade by sea well known.

Thus said he, though he doubted not at all
But ’twas some God. Meanwhile the suitors staying
For th’ evening’s coming on, to dancing fall,
Or listen to the minstrel’s song and playing.
455The evening came, the suitors went away;

Telemachus went also to his bed,
In a warm stately chamber, where he lay
Ranging the many cares he had in’s head;
Euryclea a torch before him bore,
460Daughter of Ops, now old, but at the time

Laertes did her purchase, herotofore,
For twenty oxen, she was in her prime.
He honour’d her as if she’d been his wife,
But from her bed perpetually forbore,
465T’ avoid suspicion, and domestic strife.

She’d nurs’d Telemachus, and lov’d him more
Than did the other maids, and now she stands
To light him. He unlocks the door, goes in,
Takes off his coat, puts it into her hands,
470She foldeth, brusheth, hangs it on a pin.

Then forth she went, and by a silver ring
Pulls to the door. And there all night he lay
Rememb’ring Pallas’ words, and pondering
Upon the business of the following day.

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LIB. I. - Homer, The English Works, vol. X (Iliad and Odyssey) [1839]

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Part of: The English Works of Thomas Hobbes, 11 vols.

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LIB. I.