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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. IV.

His entertainment in Sparta, where Menelaus tells him what befel many of the Greeks in their return; that Ulysses was with Calypso in the isle Ogygia, as he was told by Proteus.
And then to Lacedæmon come were they,
And drove up to the house of Menelaus.
At home they found him, for there on that day
A double wedding celebrated was.
5One of his daughters, fair Hermione,

Whom he before at Troy had promised
Of Neoptolemus the wife should be,
And on this day the same accomplished,
And her he sent unto the Myrmidons,
10Where reigned he. To Pthia she was brought.

And then the second wedding was his son’s,
Whom on a bond-woman he had begot,
And Megapenthes nam’d (for Helen’s bed
Fruitless was after fair Hermione);
15And he Alector’s daughter married,

Of Lacedæmon citizen was he.
And now they merry sat that bidden were,
Making good cheer, and hearing voice and fiddle,
And wond’ring at two tumblers that were there,
His entertainment at Sparta by Menelaus,&c.
20That moving to the time stood in the middle.

Meanwhile by th’ horses, th’ utter gate without,
Telemachus stood and Pisistratus.
Then Eteoneus by chance came out,
A careful servant of Menelaus.
25And, having seen them, in he went again,

And being near to where his master sate,
O king, said he, there are without two men,
Like great men’s sons, with their coach at the gate;
Shall I take out their horses, or shall I
30Tell them where they may lodged be elsewhere?

At this, Atrides, grieved, made reply:
Eteoneus, sure once you wiser were;
Have we not oft by strangers heretofore,
In our necessity relieved been?
35And I pray God it may be so no more.

Go, loose the horses, and the men bring in.
This said, he went again, with servants more,
Takes out the horses, ties them to the mangers,
And throws before them provender good store;
40Sets up the coach, and then brings in the strangers,

Who at the beauty of the house amazed,
(For bright it shined as the moon or sun).
And when they had sufficiently gazed,
To where the bathing-room was, walked on.
45After they were well washed and anointed,

And clothed with soft nappy cloak and coat,
That they should near him sit the king appointed,
And near unto his throne their chairs were brought.
A maid the golden bason and the ewer
50To wash their hands, over a cauldron brings.

(The cauldron also was of silver pure);
Another on the table laid good things,
Another bread. The carver also cuts
Of every sort of meat the choicest bits,
55And them on trenchers on the table puts.

And Menelaus, pointing to it, sits,
And heartily invites them to fall to.
Eat now, said he, we shall have time enough
When you have supp’d, to ask you where and who?
60Your ancestors are not obscure I know,

Such children are not got by wretched men.
And as he spake he took from his own mess
As much as both his hands could comprehend
Of good chine-beef, and gave it to these guests,
65And then they laid their hands upon their meat.

But when their hunger and their thirst was gone,
Telemachus, that near sat to his seat,
Whisper’d Pisistratus, You, Nestor’s son,
Do you not mark the splendour in this house,
70Of brass, gold, amber, silver, ivory?

Such sure the house is of Olympius,
So many and so glorious things I see.
But Menelaus heard him. Let, said he,
No mortal man with Jupiter compare;
75His house decays not, nor goods wasted be.

What men compare with me I do not care;
For why, my goods I paid for very dear,
With pain and peril in my coming home,
And wand’ring up and down at sea eight year,
80Before I could into my country come.

I was in Cyprus and Phœnicia,
Came to the Cydons and Erembians,
To Egypt, and to Ethiopia,
And to the fertile ground o’ th’ Libyans,
85Where ev’ry year the sheep three times do breed,

And all the lambs fall horned from the dam;
Nor master nor his man there stands in need
Of cheese or milk, or tender flesh of lamb.
While I my goods amongst them wand’ring got,
90I lost my brother, by his wife betray’d,

And therefore in my riches glory not.
And all this to you have your fathers said.
Absent, I lost my house, and much rich stuff;
Had I my fellows sav’d I led to Troy,
95I’d been content with the third part thereof.

So, all to all, I’ve little cause of joy:
For all my friends at Troy lost griev’d was I,
And sometimes wept, yet sometimes also not,
For quick of tears is the satiety.
100But one there is, when he is in my thought,

I neither food nor sleep desire to take;
For all the while we were besieging Troy,
None suffer’d so much for the Argives’ sake
As did Ulysses, nor so oft did pray.
105And more, perhaps, he is to suffer yet;

Long stays he, and whether alive or dead
He be, I can from no man notice get,
Nor from my sorrow be delivered.
Meanwhile, as for a son of life bereft,
110Laertes weeps; so does Penelope.

Telemachus, whom young Ulysses left,
Spends his best age in pain and misery.
This said, Telemachus before his eyes
Held up his purple robe, the tears to hide,
115Drawn from him by his father’s miseries.

And Menelaus, when he that espied,
Consider’d whether best it were or no
To tell him first what he had heard or seen
About his father, or what he would know
120To let him ask. But Helen then came in,

Like to Diana in great majesty.
Adreste came in with her, with a chair;
Alcippe a soft carpet layed nigh;
Her basket brought in was by Phylo fair.
125At Thebes, in Egypt, it was given her

By Polybus his wife, Alcandre, when
King Menelaus travelling was there;
And Polybus gave to him talents ten
Of gold, and lavers two of silver fine,
130And two three-footed cauldrons of good brass.

Then by Alcandre t’ Helena divine,
A silver-brim gilt basket given was,
With fine and curiously-spun thread press’d full,
With distaff on it, more thread yet to spin,
135Ready invested with soft purple wool.

This was the basket Phylo then brought in.
Then Helen sat, and by her husband told
What hitherto had pass’d: I know, said she,
King Menelaus, now I them behold,
140The guests that are come to you, who they be.

But shall I tell you what I think, or no?
I’ll tell you true. I never yet saw one
So like another, as this man is to
Telemachus, Ulysses’ only son,
145Whom, when with other Greeks to Ilium

He went, to fetch away this monkey, me,
By bloody war, he left a child at home.
Then Menelaus spake: Since you, said he,
Have put it in my mind, I think so too.
150His eyes, his feet, his hands, his head, his hair,

Are like Ulysses’, who I’d tell now you
What misery for me he suffer’d there,
But that it makes him weep, and hide his eyes.
Then to Atrides said Pisistratus,
155The truth to you, O king, I’ll not disguise;

This is Ulysses’ son, Telemachus,
But jealous of his tongue, and fearful is,
Before a man experienc’d and wise,
Lest he should say something at first amiss,
160And lay his weakness open to your eyes.

Nestor sent me along with him for guide,
Because he so much longed you to see,
And hear what of his father was betide,
And by you holpen and instructed be.
165Unhappy is the child whose father’s gone,

And this is now Telemachus his case;
For of Ulysses news he can hear none,
Who to defend him left none in his place.
How, how! then said Atrides, I have here
170The son of one that I esteemed most,

And for my sake suffer’d and did more there
Than any other in the Argive host;
To whom I meant, had we come safely home,
To shew more kindness than to any one
175Of all the Greeks? As soon as we were come,

I had to Argos brought him and his son,
Built them a city, made both but one state,
And laid the cities round about us waste;
And often there with one another sate,
180And only death our friendship had displac’d.

But by the Gods these thoughts are render’d vain;
They have Ulysses from his country kept.
This said, they could from tears no more abstain.
Jove’s daughter, Argive Helena, then wept,
185And Menelaus and Telemachus;

Nor could Pisistratus his tears restrain,
But on his brother thought, Antilochus,
That by the fair Aurora’s son was slain,
And him rememb’ring, to Atrides spake:
190Atrides, oft have I heard Nestor tell,

(As oft as we did of you mention make)
That you ’mongst men in wisdom do excel.
I pray you think not I take any pleasure
To act at supper-time the rites of mourning;
195For that another time we shall have leisure,

Unless we look no more to see the morning.
Not that I weeping for the dead condemn,
Or cutting off of hair. It is a debt
We owe to our dead friends. And one of them
200My brother is, whom I cannot forget.

He was not of the Greeks the meanest man;
For swift he was of foot, and bold in fight,
(Which you than I much better witness can)
To kill his foe in battle or in flight.
205Dear friend, Atrides answer’d, you have said

What might an older man have well beseemed
To say and do; and Nestor’s stock bewray’d,
Whose wisdom is of all men’s most esteemed.
’Tis easy to discern the race of one
210To whom a happy life the Gods shall grant,

As unto noble Nestor they have done,
Long life, and sons discreet and valiant.
Let’s put off for the present tales of sorrow,
And to our meat again our minds apply.
215Bring water for our hands. Betimes to-morrow

We’ll talk of this, Telemachus and I.
This said, Asphalion came in with water.
They wash’d, and on the meat their hands they laid;
But in the meantime Helena, Jove’s daughter,
220An antidote into the wine convey’d,

An antidote that virtue had to keep
The man that drank it mixed with his wine,
So as for all that day he should not weep,
Nor for whatever should befall him whine;
225No, though his father or his mother died,

Or friend or brother slain were in his sight
By cruel enemies that them envied.
Such was of Helen’s medicine the might,
Which t’ her in Egypt Thon’s wife given had,
230Where many drugs of wondrous virtue grow,

Some here, some there, and some good, and some bad,
For all men there the art of physic know;
For why, from Pæan sprung are all those men.
The antidote put in, she bad the wine
235Be borne about. And then she said again:

King Menelaus, offspring of Gods divine,
Descended from the Gods are also these;
And Jove good fortune gives sometimes to one,
And sometimes to another, as he please,
240For he can do whatever can be done.

Feast then, and merrily together sit,
And please yourselves with stories. I’ll tell one,
And which as to the time is not unfit,
Of what at Troy was by Ulysses done.
245I will not tell you all the pranks he play’d,

But only how he came into the town,
With canvas mantle o’er his shoulders laid,
Bloody with stripes, from no hand but his own;
And by the name of Dectes there did pass,
250And as a slave went freely up and down,

When such man in the fleet at all none was,
And was to every one but me unknown.
I question’d him, and he at first was shy;
But when I bath’d him and anointed had,
255And cloth’d, and ta’en an oath of secresy,

He told me what design the Argives had.
Then, having gotten much intelligence,
And many of the Trojan people slain,
He safely to the fleet departed thence,
260Leaving their wives lamenting there in vain.

But I was glad; for changed had my mind,
And griev’d, by Venus t’ have been made so mad,
To leave my child Hermione behind,
And my good husband, when no cause I had.
265Then Menelaus said: Your story, wife,

Is to the purpose. Countries I have seen
Many; and oft with heroes, in my life,
In councils sitten; but was never in
The place where any like Ulysses sat.
270I’ th’ wooden horse I’ll tell you what he did,

(No man did ever such a thing as that);
The princes of the army there lay hid,
Death and destruction bearing into Troy.
Some demon then, that was no friend to us,
275Made you come forth, our council to destroy,

And with you also came Deiphobus.
And thrice about the wooden horse you went,
And called to us ev’ry man by name,
And our wives’ voices so did represent,
280As not to be discerned from the same.

I’ th’ midst Ulysses, Diomed, and I,
Heard well your call as we together sat,
And ready were to go forth, or reply;
But by Ulysses hinder’d were of that.
285But Anticlus had answer’d certainly,

Had not Ulysses, when he heard her call,
Laid hand upon his mouth immediately,
And held till you were gone. That sav’d us all.
’Twas much, then said Telemachus, but this
290Was not enough the man alive to keep,

Though made of steel, whose end determin’d is;
But now, O king, the time is come for sleep.
Then Helen to her women order gave
To see their beds made ready, and lay on
295Fair purple rugs, and under them to have

Soft blankets, and fine coverlids upon,
Before the house, in chamber o’er the gate.
But in the inmost of the palace lay
King Menelaus with his royal mate,
300And rose again together with the day.

And when he had himself attir’d and shod,
And hung his trusty sword had by his side,
Out of his chamber came he like a God,
And to Telemachus himself applied.
305Telemachus, said he, what bringeth you

To Lacedæmon, o’er the sea so wide?
Public or private bus’ness? Tell me true.
Telemachus unto him then replied:
To you, King Menelaus, I am come
310T’ enquire what of my father is betide.

My house is full of enemies at home,
That me consume; and there resolve t’ abide.
I’ th’ fields they fruitless make my husbandry;
My stock they eat; and would my mother wed.
315This made me come to know the certainty,

Whether my father be alive or dead;
Whether you saw him after he left Troy
Wand’ring abroad (for he was born to woe),
Or of him anything heard others say,
320Let tenderness hide nothing that you know.

If in the Argive host he useful were,
In council or in battle, when need was,
Tell me the truth, be’t never so severe.
To this, much grieved, answer’d Menelaus.
325Yes, yes, said he, there many enter’d be

Into a strong man’s house while he’s away,
And are in hope to dwell there constantly,
Though not so valiant as he be they.
As when a stag and hind ent’ring the den
330Of th’ absent lion, lulls his whelps with tales

Of hills and dales, the lion comes again,
And tears them into pieces with his nails;
So shall Ulysses all those suitors slay.
O that the Gods, Apollo, Pallas, Jove,
335Amongst the suitors let him would one day,

Such as when with Philomelid he strove,
And threw him flat, and made the Argives glad.
If such as then Ulysses should be there,
Short would their lives be, and their wedding bad.
340But to the matter whereof you would hear,

I can say nothing upon certainty,
And my own knowledge, but what I was told
By Proteus. And tell I will no lie,
Nor anything of what he said withhold.
345Before the land of Egypt Pharos lies,

An island, and therein a haven good
Against whatever wind shall chance to rise;
And ready to depart, my ships there stood;
A day’s sail distant stands it in the main;
350But ’cause the hecatomb I offer’d not,

The Gods a long time did me there detain,
For they are angry when they are forgot.
There twenty days together we were pent,
Though fain we would have put again to sea;
355And our provision had quite been spent,

But that I then met with Idothoë.
She daughter is of Proteus, and he
A herdsman old of Neptune is, and has
The charge his sea-calves kept and fed to see.
360His daughter met me when alone I was;

My company, their dinner to provide,
With angle rods were fishing on the strand.
Then said she to me, standing by my side,
Why stay you here, and nothing take in hand
365To help yourself, as if a child you were,

Or negligent, or loved misery,
Suff’ring yourself to be so long pent here?
Or can you no way find to be set free?
What God you be soever, answer’d I,
370Thus much unto you I must plainly say,

That in this isle I stay unwillingly,
And for my freedom to the Gods I pray.
But tell me you (for Gods know everything)
What God is it that to this place me tied,
375And what it is that must me from it bring?

I’ll tell you then, said she, and nothing hide.
By an old Sea-God haunted is this isle,
Call’d Proteus, that nothing says untrue,
Servant to Neptune, whom if by some wile
380You could but catch and hold, he’d answer you

To all you ask, and he my father is.
He’ll tell you how to get your ships to sea,
And how you shall get home. He knows all this,
And what’s there done. So said Idothoë.
385But how, said I, is’t possible for man

Upon a God immortal to lay hold,
When he, foreseeing it, avoid it can,
If how to do’t he be not by you told?
I’ll tell you, said she, how it may be done.
390Hidden in the curls of the sea each day

Brought in by Zephyrus, he lands at noon,
And on the sand himself to sleep will lay;
About him will his footless sea-calves lie,
And of the brine abominably smell.
395And thither bring you in the morn will I,

And how to place yourselves instruct you well;
For three more must come with you, lusty men,
Whom you shall choose from out your company.
The old Sea-God his flock will number then,
400And, having done, i’ th’ midst of them will lie,

Just as a shepherd lies amongst his sheep.
Now waver not, but bold and constant be.
As soon as you shall see he is asleep,
Lay hold on him, and keep it constantly,
405For he in divers shapes will with you struggle.

He will be any serpent that he please;
Himself he’ll into fire or water juggle;
Therefore hold fast, lest he your hands disease.
When of himself he shall contented be,
410In his first form the matter to debate,

Take off your hands, and set the old God free.
Then of your business him interrogate,
What God it is that hath your hurt contrived,
How you shall put to sea, which way go home.
415This said, into the sea again she dived.

Then, full of thoughts, back to my ships I come,
And supp’d, and when we supped had ’twas night.
Then slept we by our ships upon the sand,
But when Aurora had brought back the light,
420Then went I with my three men to the strand,

And prayed to the Gods: my men I chose,
Such men as for the purpose fit I thought.
Idothoë then from the sea arose,
And in her hand four sea-calves’ skins she brought
425All raw, her father thereby to betray.

And with those skins upon us on the shore,
Scrap’d hollow by her, like sea-calves we lay,
And there our lodging had been very sore,
(For so abominably do they stink,
430That no man near them can endure to lie.

Is it good lying with a whale, d’ye think?)
But that she for it had a remedy.
Ambrosia she with her brought, and laid
The same unto our noses one by one,
435Which the ill savour of the fish allay’d.

And thus we lay expecting till ’twas noon;
Then all at once the sea-calves came ashore,
And there themselves they bedded orderly.
At noon came Proteus, and counts them o’er,
440And first were counted my three men and I.

Then lay he also down, and by and by
He fell asleep. Then we unto him ran,
And laid hands on him with a hideous cry,
And he to shew his wondrous art began.
445A shaggy lion first he seem’d to be;

And then a dragon; then a leopard;
And then a boar; then water; then a tree;
But still we kept our hold, and press’d him hard.
He weary was at last, and then he said:
450Atrides, how came you by so much skill

To hold me thus? What God has me betray’d?
What needed you to vex me? What’s your will?
What need, said I, have you from me to hear,
That bound am to this isle, and know not how
455To put to sea, nor what God holds me here,

When you can tell me (for Gods all things know)?
Then back, said he, to Greece you cannot come,
Till you to Egypt do return again,
And pay to all the Gods a hecatomb;
460That done, you shall pass safely o’er the main.

Thus Proteus said. But that I must go first
Back into Egypt, an ill and long way,
My heart to hear it ready was to burst.
’Tis hard, said I, but I’ll do all you say;
465But tell me of the Argives first, if they

With their good ships came all in safety home,
That I and Nestor left behind at Troy,
How many by the way they lost, and whom?
Some of them ’scap’d, said he, and some are lost;
470But of the princes lost are only twain

In their return. Upon the Trojan coast
You know who died; and one the Gods detain.
First Ajax’ ships by winds are laid aground
At Gyræ, rocks that on the deep look down,
475And ’gainst the sea protection there had found,

However Pallas did upon him frown,
But that a high provoking word he spake.
I’ll pass, said he, although the Gods say no.
And Neptune then the rock he sat on brake;
480Both he and it into the water go,

Where, when he had drunk brine enough, he died.
Your brother also safely pass’d the sea,
And came to Argos (Juno was his guide).
And when he was come near to mount Malea,
485Forc’d by foul weather, he disbarked, where

Thyestes formerly his age had spent,
But now his son Ægistus dwelled there.
The Gods then chang’d the wind, and homeward went.
Full glad he was, and kiss’d the ground for joy,
490And from him fell the tears abundantly.

Ægistus, that long sought him to destroy,
Had plac’d a man on purpose to descry
Th’ arrival of the fleet, whom he had hired
To watch upon a hill a year together,
495For talents ten of gold, that he required,

And tell him when the fleet from Troy came thither.
The watchman saw them, and t’ Ægistus went,
And gave him notice of their coming in.
Ægistus then, t’ effect his bad intent,
500Chose twenty lusty men, and them within

An inner room he placed, out of sight,
And a great supper bids his men provide;
Then down went, Agamemnon to invite,
With horses and with coaches to th’ sea-side,
505And brought him up to supper in great state;

Then rose the traitors that in ambush lay,
And killed him, as he at supper sate,
Nor any man alive went thence away,
That with Atrides or with him took part.
510When of his story he had made an end,

To break with pity ready was my heart;
In streams down on my cheeks the tears descend.
I wished never more to see the sun,
And weeping, on the sand myself I roll’d.
515But when my lamentation was done,

Then Proteus said again, Your weeping hold,
Tears are no remedy, but make haste home.
There lives Ægistus, or if he be slain
Already by Orestes, you will come
520To his interment. This cheer’d me again,

And then I asked further of him this:
Since you have told me what’s become of two,
Tell me the third that stays abroad, who ’tis,
Alive or dead, though that will grieve me too.
525It is, said he, Ulysses, whom I saw

In th’ island where Calypso dwells, o’ th’ shore
Weeping, who fain would come to Ithaca,
But with him neither has a ship nor oar.
And you, O Menelaus, shall not die
530In Argos (for ’tis otherwise decreed)

But be convey’d t’ Elysium. For why,
Of Jupiter you wedded have the seed.
There humans lead their lives in greatest ease;
No snow nor frost there is; refreshed there
535They are by zephyrs rising from the seas,

And Jove’s son Rhadamanthus dwelleth there.
This said, into the sea he went again,
But I, with thoughts confused in my head,
Returned back unto my ships and men,
540And soon as we had supp’d, the night was spread.

Then back again into the Nile we go,
And offer’d to the Gods a hecatomb;
When we their anger had appeased so,
For Agamemnon there we rais’d a tomb.
545When this was done, for Argos we set sail,

And quickly to our native soil we came;
Th’ immortal Gods gave us a lusty gale,
And all the way continued the same.
Telemachus, you’ve heard all I can say,
550But must not therefore straightway take your leave;

Until th’ eleventh or twelfth day you’ll stay,
The presents I intend you to receive.
A chariot you shall have and horses three,
And a fair cup emboss’d to offer wine,
555That in your vows you may remember me.

Then said Telemachus, I here have lien
Long time already, and my men at Pyle
Are weary of expecting me; else I
Could stay a year, and never all that while
560My mind have on my house or family,

So much I taken am with your discourse.
But let my present be some monument;
To Ithaca I’ll never carry horse,
They for the plains are more convenient;
565Large plains, which you have here in many places,

And where store is of wheat, and rice, and lote.
In Ithaca there is no ground for races,
Nor pastures good enough to feed a goat.
In th’ isles about it, gallop can no horse;
570In th’ isle itself, nor gallop nor be fed.

When he had made an end of his discourse,
Atrides, smiling on him, strok’d his head.
’Tis spoken, said he, like a gallant man,
And that descended is of noble blood.
575I’ll give you other presents, for I can,

In place of these, that shall be full as good.
A monument kept in my treasury,
Of massive silver a fair temperer,
The work of Vulcan, which was given me
580At Sidon, by the king, when I was there.

Whilst they together thus discoursing staid,
The bidden guests, fat sheep, rich wine bring in,
And bread their wives upon the table laid,
And about supper busy were within.
585And now the suitors at Ulysses’ house

Were throwing of the stone and darts. And by
Antinous sat and Eurymachus,
Chief of the woo’rs. Then came Noemon nigh:
Unto Antinous he spake, and said,
590When will Telemachus return from Pyle?

My ship I lent him, and am now afraid
I shall have need of her myself the while.
For over into Elis I must pass;
Twelve mares of mine there go, and with the same
595Twelve unbroke mules, with all their foals, at grass;

And some of them I would fetch home and tame.
At this they star’d. For never dreamed they
That in good earnest he would go to Pyle,
But in the fields would with some herdsman stay,
600And there from us conceal himself awhile.

Antinous then ask’d, When parted he?
What company went with him hence? His own
Servants and husbandmen, for that might be,
Or young men of the best account i’ th’ town?
605And tell me further, was it willingly

You lent your ship, or were you forc’d thereto?
To this Noemon did again reply:
I lent it willingly. What should I do?
Who would not yield to such a man’s request,
610When he has need and asks, as well as I?

And with him went of Ithaca the best,
And Mentor chief of all the company;
If he it were not, ’twas some deity,
For, which is strange, I saw him yesterday
615Before the sun was mounted half the sky,

Yet went the ship the night before away.
This said, he went his way. Antinous
And th’ others sat there yet, and wondered.
The suitors left their sport, sat down, and thus
620Antinous the case then opened,

And in an angry tone, with fiery eye,
’Tis true, said he, Telemachus has done
A work to us of great indignity.
We thought he never could that way have gone.
625We many are, and men; yet he, a boy,

Has got a ship, and of our men the best.
But may Jove him, before he us, destroy.
Give me a good ship, ere we be oppress’d,
And twenty able men, and in the strait
630’Twixt Ithaca and Same I will lie,

And for their coming back from Pylus wait,
And entertain him with hot coming by.
The suitors all were pleased with the plot,
And then they rose together and went in.
635But Medon had heard all, which they knew not,

For he without the court was, they within.
And to inform Penelope he went,
And when she saw him coming in a door,
Medon, said she, what, are you hither sent
640To bid my maids trouble themselves no more

With how the suitors they shall entertain;
But only for themselves make ready meat?
Lest when they hither come to sup again,
It prove the last that they shall ever eat.
645Telemachus his wealth you wasted have,

As if your fathers never told you how
Ulysses with them did himself behave,
That never did unkindness to them show
In deed or word. Although a liberty
650Kings often take, one man to love or hate

Above another, without telling why;
But he cause of offence to no man gave.
But of good turns received heretofore
Your nature altogether senseless is.
655O queen, said Medon, would it were no more;

But I must tell you somewhat worse than this.
The suitors have conspir’d to kill your son,
(Which Jove avert,) as he is coming home.
For he to Pylus is and Sparta gone
660T’ enquire what of his father is become.

This said, Penelope was stricken dumb,
And filled were with tears her eyes. But when
Her voice at last again was to her come,
She spake to Medon, and him asked then,
665Medon, said she, why went my son away?

What need had he upon the sea to ride?
Meant he his name amongst men to destroy?
And Medon to her then again replied:
I cannot tell. Perhaps encouraged
670By some o’ th’ Gods, or presage of his own

T’ enquire about his father, whether dead,
Or on what coast he is by fortune thrown.
This said, her tears she could no longer hold,
And lets herself sink down upon the sill.
675Then came her maids about her, young and old.

Did ever Gods, said she, bear such ill will
To any woman as they bear to me?
Why deal they worse with me than with the rest?
O my dear husband! What a man was he!
680All manly virtues lodged in his breast.

Through Hellas and through Argos known was he;
Of him the Gods unkind me first bereft;
And now away my child must taken be,
That to sustain the house at home was left.
685Sluts that you are, and of his going knew,

Why was it not to me discovered?
For had I of it been inform’d by you,
I had him stay’d, or he had left me dead.
To Dolius let one or other go
690(The servant which my father gave to me,

And with Laertes at the lodge is now,
And of my garden has the custody)
And tell him what the suitors are about,
That he may to Laertes tell the same;
695And he unto the people may come out,

And them against these wicked men inflame.
Then spake Euryclea: Dear child, said she,
Kill me, or let me live as you think best;
No longer shall the truth concealed be.
700I knew all this. So did none of the rest.

I furnish’d him with all that he commanded,
Sweet wine and flour, but first he made me swear,
I would not tell you till it was demanded,
Or that the same by others told you were;
705For fear lest with much weeping hurt you take.

But wash, put on clean garments, and up go
Into your chamber, and your prayers make
To Pallas, who your son to save knows how.
The griev’d old man, why should you further grieve?
710Hated is not Arcesius his seed

By all the Gods. For I cannot believe
But some of them will help them in their need,
And both their houses and their lands protect.
This stopp’d her sobbing, and her weeping stay’d.
715Then went she up, herself she wash’d and deck’d,

And to the Goddess Pallas thus she pray’d:
O Goddess, if you well accepted have
The victims by Ulysses sacrificed
Upon your altar here, his son now save,
720And bring to nought what th’ wooers have devised.

Her prayer granted was. Then shouted they.
The suitors heard it in the hall, and one
T’ another said, ’Tis for her wedding-day;
She knows not we intend to kill her son.
725Thus said they, but upon no ground at all.

Alcinous then spake. Madmen, said he,
Such words as these what mean you to let fall?
What if within they should reported be?
Come rise, thus, gently, and the work effect
730To which we all have given our consent.

Then did he twenty able men elect,
And down unto the water side they went,
And first of all they laid their ship afloat,
And in it with white sails the mast they laid,
735And fit their oars. Then in their arms were brought:

The mast then rear’d was, and the sails display’d.
Then went they t’ anchor in the open sea,
And stay’d all night. And then aboard they eat.
Then to her chamber went Penelope
740Grieving, and tasting neither drink nor meat,

Casting about whether more likely ’t were
Her son should ’scape the suitors’ hands, or die.
Just as a lion that enclosed were
With toils about, would cast which way to fly.
745When her sad reck’ning sleep had blotted out,

Dissolv’d her strength, and closed had her eyes,
Pallas another bus’ness went about.
She made an Idol in a woman’s guise,
Like to the daughter of Icarius,
750Wife of Eumelus, (at Pheræ dwell’d he),

And sent the same unto Ulysses’ house,
T’ allay the sorrow of Penelope.
In at the keyhole then the Idol goes
Into her chamber, and stood at her head.
755Penelope, said it, amidst such woes

How can you sleep? But now be comforted.
You must no longer weep nor grieved be,
For from the Gods you no such cause shall have,
For of your son the safe return you’ll see.
760To this Penelope then answer gave.

Sister, said she, ’tis strange to see you here;
You come but seldom. For far off you dwell.
And now you bid me weeping to forbear,
When how much cause I have you cannot tell.
765A good and noble husband I have lost,

That had a lion’s heart within his breast,
Hellas and Argos of his valour boast,
What virtue is there that he not possess’d?
And now my child at sea is in a tub,
770And has no skill in fight or parliament:

I fear extremely lest he meet some rub,
For him more than for th’ other I lament.
What may befal him on the sea I dread,
And what at land, if e’er to land he come,
775For many foes he hath that wish him dead,

And wait to kill him as he cometh home.
To this again replied the Idol dim,
Take courage, be not frighted for your son;
He has a guide that taketh care of him;
780A better would be wished for by none.

’Tis Pallas. For of you she pity takes,
And what I said, I said by her command.
Penelope again this answer makes,
Whoe’er you be, answer one more demand:
785Is my poor husband yet alive, or no?

Then said the Idol, That I do not find,
Nor will I tell you what I do not know.
Then through the keyhole went, and turn’d to wind.
Then wak’d Penelope, and joyful was
790T’ have had a dream so evident and clear.

Then o’er the humid plain the suitors pass,
Destruction to Telemachus to bear.
’Twixt Ithaca and Same, middle way,
There lies an island, and but small it is,
795Yet hath it on each side a good safe bay.

There watch’d the wooers. ’Tis call’d Asteris.

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

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LIB. IV.