Home

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.

About Liberty Fund:

Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals.

Copyright information:

The text is in the public domain.

Fair use statement:

This material is put online to further the educational goals of Liberty Fund, Inc. Unless otherwise stated in the Copyright Information section above, this material may be used freely for educational and academic purposes. It may not be used in any way for profit.

LIB. XIV.

Ulysses in form of a beggar goes to Eumæus, the master of his swine, where he is well used, and tells a feigned story, and informs himself of the behaviour of the wooers.

But he in rugged way, o’er mountains steep,
Through woods obscure unto Eumæus went,
Whose office was the herds of swine to keep,
And of his servants was most diligent;
5And found him in the porch before the door.

The house was handsome, and high-built, and great,
Nor to it was adjoined any more;
Well fenc’d from wind it was, and a warm seat,
Built by himself, on purpose for the swine

Ulysses’ entertainment by his swine-master.

10Of his good lord, Ulysses, that was gone,

With stone that hewn was from the rocky mine,
Besides those of Laertes and his son;
And with a quickset-hedge enclosed round,
And pales of heart of oak; the hedge without
15Set close together, and stuck deep i’ th’ ground.

And thus the house was fenced round about;
Within the court twelve lodgings were for swine,
And ev’ry one of them held five times ten;
And there the female and the teeming lyen.
20The males lay out, but much diminisht then;

For the proud suitors eaten had the rest,
Eumæus having sent in every day
One of the fattest of the herd and best,
And yet three hundred and threescore were they.
25Near to the swine, four dogs were ever lying,

Like to wild beasts, and by Eumæus fed.
Himself was leather to his foot applying,
Made of a good cow-hide well coloured;
Three dogs attending were the herd; the fourth
30Convoying was a swine unto the woo’rs;

The other three ran fiercely bawling forth,
When they Ulysses saw come near the doors;
Ulysses wisely then his staff lets fall,
And presently sits down upon the ground;
35But had Eumæus not come in withal,

An unbeseeming fortune he had found;
Who letting fall the leather for his shoe,
Running and rating came in to his aid:
And snatch’d-up stones abundance at them threw,
40And then he to Ulysses spake, and said,

Old man, yourself almost to death you brought,
By those accursed dogs, and me to shame;
As if my sorrow great enough were not,
But that there must be added to it blame.
45While sitting here, I for my master weep,

And feed his swine for other men to eat;
He somewhere swallow’d up is in the deep,
Or wanders up and down for want of meat.
But come, old man, into the lodge let’s go,
50That when of meat and wine you have your fill,

You may then tell me whence you are, and who,
And how much you have suffered of ill.
This said, he led him in and made him sit,
And under him he store of rushes laid;
55O’er that a goatskin, thick with hair was it,

Of which a speckled wild goat had been flay’d.
Ulysses, glad to see the man so kind
And very hearty, answered and said,
May all your pray’rs like entertainment find
60With Jove for whatsoever you have pray’d.

Stranger, then said Eumæus, it was never
My custom any stranger to neglect;
The poor and stranger are in God’s hand ever.
Few are my gifts, and but of small effect,
65For servants of young masters stand in fear;

And by the Gods my old one fast is bound
From coming home. ’Twas he that gave me here
A house and fair possession of ground,
As much as fits a master to his swain,
70And help’d me too contentedly to wive,

Which taketh off a great part of my pain;
Also the Gods have made my labour thrive.
How happy had I been if he had stay’d!
Accursed be that Helen and her kin;
75For, for Atrides’ sake he anchors weigh’d,

Himself much misery engaging in.
Having thus said, he girded on his coat,
And fetch’d in two young pigs; not long he staid,
But kill’d, singed, jointed, roasted, piping hot
80Before Ulysses with the spits he laid,

Then strews them over with the flour of wheat,
And in an ivy bowl he tempers wine,
And sitting o’er against him bids him eat.
Eat, says he, servant’s food, the lesser swine;
85The great ones are the pamper’d suitors’ fare;

The blessed Gods hate evil works, and love
Them that do well; but these men little care
For mercy or for vengeance from above;
Yet enemies and lawless men, when they
90Disbark upon another’s land, and there

With prey their ship have laden, come away,
And of revenge stand always in great fear.
But these men know not, nor by voice divine
Assured are, Ulysses now is dead;
95Yet neither will go hence, nor have design

To seek by lawful ways his wife to wed;
But stay and waste his substance without hoe.
For not a day went o’er their heads that they
Did sacrifice one only beast or two;
100And wine abundance drink and cast away.

Ulysses his estate and wealth was such,
In Greece nor Argos, no prince in Epire,
Nor twenty had in Ithaca so much;
And if to have it reckon’d you desire,
105Upon the Continent twelve herds of kine,

Twelve herds of goats, as many flocks of sheep,
As many swine-houses replete with swine,
Which herdsmen of the country there did keep;
And here, upon the island’s farthest end
110There be eleven herds of goats; of these

The goat-keeper does ev’ry day one send,
The best of all, the suitors proud to please;
And daily I the best of all my swine.
Thus said he: but Ulysses silent sate,
115Eating his meat, and drinking of his wine,

And plotting in his head the suitors’ fate.
When he had supp’d, Eumæus to the brim
Fill’d up his cup with wine; Ulysses then,
Glad that Eumæus so well treated him,
120Drank, and the cup deliv’ring back again,

Friend, says he, that so rich and valiant man,
Your master, that was for Atrides lost,
If I have seen him, do you think you can
Know him? God knows I have seen many a coast.
125Then answer’d he: There is no stranger able

Nor with his wife nor son to get belief;
The news they tell both take but for a fable,
Invented by their want to get relief;
Many poor men come to Penelope,
130And make her weep in vain with tales untrue:

And where you think you shall rewarded be
With coat or other garment, so can you.
But he’s devour’d by beasts or fowls at land;
Or fish at sea have on his body fed;
135And on the shore his bones lie clad in sand.

But howsoe’er it be, the man is dead;
And to his friends has sorrow left behind,
But to me chiefly, who, go where I please,
Shall never such another master find,
140Nor ever be again at so much ease;

No, though I should unto my country go,
And parents, that have got and nourish’d me;
To see them though I wish, I long not so
As I Ulysses long again to see;
145Whom, though now absent, I call by his name,

He was so kind, and took such care of me,
That of such small respect I feel some shame;
A second father he should called be.
Friend, said Ulysses, since so hard it is
150To make you hope he will so soon be here,

Know that I have not rashly told you this,
What I have spoken I will also swear;
If true, with coat and vest my news requite;
If not, then not, although ill rayed am I:
155Of him as of hell-gate I hate the sight

That can by want be made to tell a lie.
Know Jove, the chief of Gods, and then the host
That hath provided for us this good cheer,
And in Ulysses’ house doth rule the roast,
160Ulysses will be here some time this year;

This month expired, or the next begun,
And be reveng’d of th’ wooers impudent
That have dishonoured his wife and son.
Then said Eumæus, leave this argument;
165For your good news nothing will be to pay,

Nor will Ulysses ever come again;
Drink wine, and no more on this subject say,
I cannot think upon him without pain:
And swear no more; true be it all you say.
170To me, Laertes, and Penelope,

And to Telemachus ’twill be great joy,
For whom my sorrows much augmented be.
He sprang up like a branch to man’s estate;
I thought he would in prowess prove no less
175Than’s father was, whom he did imitate

In wit and figure and in comeliness:
But now the Gods bereav’d him have of wit,
He’s gone to Pyle, to hear what men there say
About his father, whilst the suitors sit
180Waiting at sea to kill him by the way.

But him let’s leave a while with pow’rs above,
Whether to let him die, or bring him back,
Waiting upon the pleasure of high Jove.
And now of your own woes untie the sack,
185That I may know them: tell me truly now

Your own, your father’s, and your country’s name;
And further I desire you, let me know
Whence are the mariners that with you came
Unto this town? and tell me this likewise,
190Where rideth the good ship that brought you to’t?

For verily I can no way devise
How you should come on horseback or on foot.
Then said Ulysses, Were we here alone,
And meat and drink for so long us attend,
195And all the rest about their work were gone,

The year would sooner than my story end.
Of Crete I am, and rich my father was,
And many children more he had, but they
Begotten were according to the laws;
200But of a concubine the son was I.

My father was Castor Hylacides,
That was for wealth in Crete much honoured,
And for his children, but lov’d me no less
Than those he had begot in lawful bed.
205When he was dead and gone, my brothers proud

Divide his state amongst themselves by lot,
And little of it they to me allow’d:
But for all that a good rich wife I got;
My virtue won her; I no shun-field was,
210Nor from my stock degenerate she saw;

(Though from me now my strength be gone, alas!)
But you I think can know wheat by the straw;
For now with hardship I am much decay’d.
Mars gave me courage, and Athena skill
215To beat up quarters, and by ambush laid

With stratagems my enemies to kill:
Of being slain I never had a thought,
But foremost still I leap’d out with my spear;
And of the foes to death I still one brought,
220Unless his feet than my feet swifter were.

And such I was in war. But husbandry,
And keeping home, though that bred children store,
I car’d not for. But ships I lov’d to see,
And war, darts, bows, and shafts, I loved more;
225Yet horrible they be to other wights;

For, for such things the Gods have temper’d me.
Many things are there wherein one delights,
Which to another man unpleasant be.
Before the Greeks went to the siege of Troy,
230Nine times had I commanded on the seas,

And always our success was good that way,
And of the prey I chose what did me please
Beside my share. And wealth came in apace.
Wise I was thought, and honour’d much in Crete.
235And when Jove had decreed Troy to deface,

Idomeneus and I went with the fleet,
Or else we must our credit quite have lost.
Nine years we fought, the tenth we took the town.
And setting up our sails we left the coast,
240And by the Gods were tossed up and down.

But Jove determined me more trouble yet:
For needs I would to Egypt go and trade.
A month I stayed at home, then forth I set
With nine good ships, and an ill voyage made.
245For when six days I feasted had my crew,

And to the Gods devoutly offer’d part;
A good strong wind from the north heaven blew,
And from the coast of Crete we then depart;
Smoothly we sail’d, safe our arrival was,
250Nor man nor ship had any harm at all;

From shore to shore we did in five days pass,
And in the Nile we let our anchors fall.
Then I my fellows bad aboard to stay,
And guard the ships, and some to places high
255I sent to watch; but mov’d by lucre, they

On plunder and on rapine had their eye;
The fields they waste, and kill the men, and make
Women and children captives. Then the cry
Arriving at the city, arms they take,
260And next day early to the field they hie;

With horse and foot then thundered the field.
Their armour light’ned. My men frighted were:
Some taken and made slaves; some flying kill’d;
And all the rest ran scatter’d here and there.
265Then I (though ’t had been better there t’ have died,

So many woes have since befallen me)
Pull’d off my helmet, laid my spear aside,
And buckler too, and kneel’d at the king’s knee.
He rescued me, and home with him me brought,
270Sitting by him that did his chariot drive:

Though in their heat many to kill me sought,
Yet the king brought me to the town alive.
Seven years I there remain’d and riches got,
For every man almost me somewhat gave.
275Then thither came a merchant, that had not

His fellow in all Egypt for a knave.
His house and riches in Phœnicia were,
And he with lies entic’d me to his home.
With him I went: and there I stay’d a year;
280And when the months and days about were come,

He set me in a ship for Libya;
And there together with our goods we sate,
He cracking of the profit he foresaw,
And I suspecting, though it were too late.
285With him I went. And when the ship was forth,

We steer’d our course without the isle of Crete;
For by good luck we had a wind full north,
But Jove determin’d had we should not see’t:
For when the island we had left behind,
290And nothing else appear’d but sea and sky,

Jove fetch’d the clouds together with a wind,
Just o’er the ship, and dark ’twas presently;
And therewithal into the ship he threw
His thunderbolt, which whirl’d it round about:
295It smelt of brimstone rank. And all the crew

Into the sea it suddenly cast out;
And they like gulls from wave to wave were toss’d.
But Jove, to save me, put into my hand
The ship’s tall mast, which with my arms I cross’d,
300And after nine days came at last to land.

And in Thesprotia was cast on land;
And the king’s son, who chanc’d that way to pass,
Lifted me up as I lay on the sand;
And by king Phædon well receiv’d I was.
305He cloth’d me with good garments, coat and vest.

I ask’d him of Ulysses what he knew?
As he went home, said he, he was my guest,
And what he then had gotten did me shew;
Of brass, and iron, and gold, there was so much,
310As might ten ages feed a man alone,

The treasure that he show’d me there was such.
But he, he said, was to Dodona gone,
There at the holy oak to be advis’d
(Since he from Ithaca so long has been),
315Whether ’twere better to go home disguis’d,

Or so as to be known when he is seen.
The king to me in holy form did swear,
That for the conduct of Ulysses home,
Both ship and mariners then ready were.
320But when I went from thence he was not come.

A ship of that place in the harbour lay
Ready to part. The king bad land me there.
But they resolv’d were of another way;
Which made me yet more misery to bear.
325When of that land they were got out of sight,

To sell me for a slave they did agree;
My coat and vest they take from me there right,
And gave me the torn coat and rags you see.
Late in the ev’ning they were at the land
330Of Ithaca, and bound me fast i’ th’ ship.

But they to sup thought fit upon the sand,
And leaving me, out of the bark they skip;
But from my bonds some God sure set me free.
Then down I went and to the sea applied
335My breast, and round the ship swam speedily,

And in a great thick wood myself I hide.
Sorry they were, and put to sea again,
To stay and seek me they lost labour thought.
Thus by Jove’s favour I alive remain,
340And to the house of a good friend am brought.

Then said Eumæus: I confess the story,
Poor man, of this your wand’ring and your pain,
Has had the pow’r to make me very sorry.
But of Ulysses what you say is vain.
345I not believe a word. What needed you,

So wise a man as you appear to me,
In vain to tell me anything not true;
When I myself am sure ’twill never be?
For all the Gods have shown themselves his foes,
350That neither suffer’d him to fall at Troy,

Nor, the war done, his best friends to compose
His body for the grave. For either way
He honourably buried had been
To th’ honour of his son. But he is dead,
355Unspoken of, devour’d by harpies keen;

And I despis’d sit here to see swine fed;
And never to the city come, but when
Some news is brought unto Penelope,
And she send one to call me. I come then,
360And many list’ning to the news I see.

Some griev’d, and wishing for his coming home;
Some that seek nothing but shot-free to feed,
And these men wish that he may never come.
But I of what they say take little heed;
365Especially, since an Ætolian,

As he from place to place for murder fled,
Came to my house, and I reliev’d the man,
And after found that I was cozened.
He said he saw him with Idomeneus,
370In Crete, and that for certain he would come,

(His fleet much hurt repaired) to his house,
Rich, at the next spring, or the next autumn.
Therefore, old man, since you are come to me,
Think not your story anything avails,
375Nor that false hopes provoke my charity;

My bounty looks on want and not on tales.
Pity, and fear of Jove, my favours guide.
Ulysses to this answers him, and saith,
Since you trust not my word, nor oath beside,
380And in your breast resideth little faith,

Let’s make a bargain. If Ulysses come,
Then a good coat and vest shall be my due,
And a safe conduct to Dulichium.
If not, and that I told you prove untrue,
385Then make your servants throw me from a cliff,

High and upright, that others may beware
To cozen men into a false belief
Of things they know not, but uncertain are.
Then said Eumæus: Yes, ’twere a fine deed,
390And noble, t’ entertain a man with love,

And with good cheer relieve him in his need,
Then kill him, and beg pardon then of Jove.
But now I wish the swine from field were come,
For time it is of supper to advise.
395And while they talk, the swains the swine bring home,

And with great noise they pent are in the sties.
Then did Eumæus to his servants call,
From out the herd to choose one of the best
His far-come friend to entertain withal,
400And mend their own fare also with the rest.

’Tis long since others the work to us leave
To feed the swine they eat. Having said that,
Out went he, for the altar wood to cleave;
And they brought in a five-year-old pig fat,
405And laid it on the hearth. Eumæus there,

Rememb’ring well the Gods, for he was wise,
First from the forehead clippeth off the hair,
And in the fire the same did sacrifice.
Then did he all the Gods above invoke,
410That soon and safe Ulysses might arrive;

Next that, he takes a piece of the cleft oak,
And at a stroke did him of life deprive.
Then others take the work into their hands,
And with keen steel they quickly cut his throat.
415That being done, with many flaming brands

They singe from head to tail his hairy coat,
And lay him open. Then Eumæus came,
And folded up the fleshy thighs in fat.
And then into the fire he threw the same.
420The rest they cut in lesser parts; and that

They roast on spits; and being roasted well
And taken up, on chopping-boards they put it.
Eumæus then, who thereat did excel,
As he thought fit, did into messes cut it.
425But one mess for the nymphs and Mercury

He set aside; and over that he pray’d;
The rest he set to each one severally.
But to Ulysses the whole chine was laid.
Jove, said Ulysses, be to you as kind
430As you to me, and grant all your request.

Friend, said Eumæus, now your supper mind,
Such as it is. Gods give what they think best.
Then to the Gods he offer’d the first cut,
And fill’d a bowl, and offer’d part of that.
435The bowl then in Ulysses’ hand he put;

Ulysses it receiv’d, and down he sat.
Mesaulius then sets before him bread,
Which thither brought from Taphos was to sell,
And had been by Eumæus purchased.
440Then heartily unto their meat they fell;

And when to eat they had no more delight,
Mesaulius took off the bread; and all
Prepared were for sleep. But cold the night
And moonless was; besides, much rain did fall.
445Ulysses to the company then spake,

Tempting Eumæus; and to get a cloak
From him, or from some other for his sake.
Hear me, Eumæus, says he, and you folk,
I have a tale to tell. This foolish wine
450To laugh and dance is able to provoke

Grave men sometimes that have no such design,
And to speak that which better were unspoke.
But out it shall, since I so much have said.
Oh! that I were as young and strong as when
455Before the town of Troy the watch we laid,

And lodged were amongst the reeds i’ th’ fen,
By Menelaus and Ulysses led,
And me the third; the wind at north all night,
We lying with our bucklers covered.
460With rain congeal’d, our armour all was white.

And they slept well wrapp’d up in cloak and coat,
Safe in their bucklers from the freezing wind;
But like a fool my cloak I had forgot,
I did not think I should such weather find.
465And when a third part of the night was gone,

I nudg’d Ulysses, who did next me lie;
He felt me, and to him I made my moan:
Noble Ulysses, I am like to die,
The weather kills me, I have but a coat;
470My cloak some demon made me leave behind,

And of such cold quite took away the thought;
I cannot tell what remedy to find.
No sooner said, but remedy he found,
For able was he both to shift and fight,
475And said unto me, in a whisp’ring sound,

Peace, lest we heard be by some other wight.
And then with head on elbow, Friend, said he,
I dreamt we from the ships too far lie here.
Let some to Agamemnon go and see,
480If he would have us rise and come more near.

Then up rose Thoas, son of Andræmon,
And down he laid his cloak, the which I kept,
And swiftly did to Agamemnon run;
I’ th’ cloak I wrapp’d myself and soundly slept.
485Were I as young and strong as I was then,

Some one a cloak would lend me for respect,
Or else for kindness, ’mongst so many men;
But now my rags are cause they me neglect.
Old man, then said Eumæus, you have told
490Your story well. Each word to purpose is.

To-morrow shake your rags against the cold,
Of what is needful now you shall not miss;
Of cloak or coat there’s none of these has shift.
But when Telemachus from Pyle comes back,
495From him you will have all you need, of gift;

And then you neither cloak nor coat will lack,
And be conveyed to what place you desire.
With that he rose, and woolly skins of sheep,
And shaggy goat-skins near laid to the fire;
500And there Ulysses laid him down to sleep.

And over him a cloak Eumæus laid,
Both thick and soft it was, which he had kept,
And with it in sharp cold himself arrayed;
And thus Ulysses warmly cover’d slept.
505By him the young men lay. But to the sties

Eumæus went; for fit he thought it not
To lie far from his swine, and out he hies.
Meanwhile Ulysses of his kindness thought.
Eumæus first of all his sword puts on
510O’er his great shoulder: then, against the weather,

A thick warm cloak; and again, that upon,
A great goat-skin, the skin and hair together.
And then with dart in hand, for his defence
’Gainst men and dogs, well armed at the head,
515To where the tusked swine lay parted thence,

Within a rock from wind safe covered.

Home

The Forum

Econlib

The Library

Other Sites

The Library

Return to Title Page for The English Works, vol. X (Iliad and Odyssey)

The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

Search this Title:

Also in the Library:

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

Edition used:

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

About Liberty Fund:

Copyright information:

Fair use statement:

LIB. XIV.