SOON as Aurora, Daughter of the Dawn, | |
| Sprinkled with roseate light the dewy lawn, | |
| In haste the Prince arose, prepared to part; | |
| His hand impatient grasps the pointed dart; | |
| Fair on his feet the polish’d sandals shine, | 5 |
| And thus he greets the master of the swine: | |
| ‘My friend, adieu! let this short stay suffice; | |
| I haste to meet my mother’s longing eyes, | |
| And end her tears, her sorrows, and her sighs, | |
| But thou, attentive, what we order heed: | 10 |
| This hapless stranger to the city lead: | |
| By public bounty let him there be fed, | |
| And bless the hand that stretches forth the bread; | |
| To wipe the tears from all afflicted eyes, | |
| My will may covet, but my power denies. | 15 |
| If this raise anger in the stranger’s thought, | |
| The pain of anger punishes the fault: | |
| The very truth I undisguised declare; | |
| For what so easy as to be sincere?’ | |
| To this Ulysses: ‘What the Prince requires | 20 |
| Of swift removal, seconds my desires. | |
| To want like mine the peopled town can yield | |
| More hopes of comfort than the lonely field: | |
| Nor fits my age to till the labour’d lands, | |
| Or stoop to tasks a rural lord demands. | 25 |
| Adieu! but since this ragged garb can bear | |
| So ill th’ inclemencies of morning air, | |
| A few hours’ space permit me here to stay: | |
| My steps Eumæus shall to town convey, | |
| With riper beams when Phœbus warms the day.’ | 30 |
| Thus he; nor aught Telemachus replied, | |
| But left the mansion with a lofty stride: | |
| Schemes of revenge his pond’ring breast elate, | |
| Revolving deep the suitors’ sudden fate. | |
| Arriving now before th’ imperial hall, | 35 |
| He props his spear against the pillar’d wall; | |
| Then like a lion o’er the threshold bounds; | |
| The marble pavement with his step resounds; | |
| His eye first glanc’d where Euryclea spreads | |
| With furry spoils of beasts the splendid beds: | 40 |
| She saw, she wept, she ran with eager pace, | |
| And reach’d her master with a long embrace. | |
| All crowded round the family appears | |
| With wild entrancement, and ecstatic tears. | |
| Swift from above descends the royal Fair | 45 |
| (Her beauteous cheeks the blush of Venus wear, | |
| Chasten’d with coy Diana’s pensive air); | |
| Hangs o’er her son, in his embraces dies; | |
| Rains kisses on his neck, his face, his eyes: | |
| Few words she spoke, tho’ much she had to say: | 50 |
| And scarce those few, for tears, could force their way. | |
| ‘Light of my eyes! he comes! unhoped-for joy! | |
| Has Heav’n from Pylos brought my lovely boy? | |
| So snatch’d from all our cares!—Tell, hast thou known | |
| Thy father’s fate, and tell me all thy own.’ | 55 |
| ‘Oh dearest! most revered of woman-kind! | |
| Cease with those tears to melt a manly mind’ | |
| (Replied the Prince); ‘nor be our fates deplor’d, | |
| From death and treason to thy arms restor’d. | |
| Go, bathe, and robed in white ascend the towers; | 60 |
| With all thy handmaids thank th’ immortal Powers: | |
| To ev’ry God vow hecatombs to bleed, | |
| And call Jove’s vengeance on the guilty deed. | |
| While to th’ assembled council I repair; | |
| A stranger sent by Heav’n attends me there; | 65 |
| My new accepted guest I haste to find, | |
| Now to Peiræus’ honour’d charge consign’d.’ | |
| The matron heard, nor was his word in vain. | |
| She bathed; and, robed in white, with all her train, | |
| To ev’ry God vow’d hecatombs to bleed, | 70 |
| And call’d Jove’s vengeance on the guilty deed. | |
| Arm’d with his lance, the Prince then pass’d the gate; | |
| Two dogs behind, a faithful guard, await; | |
| Pallas his form with grace divine improves: | |
| The gazing crowd admires him as he moves: | 75 |
| Him, gath’ring round, the haughty suitors greet | |
| With semblance fair, but inward deep deceit. | |
| Their false addresses gen’rous he denied, | |
| Pass’d on, and sate by faithful Mentor’s side; | |
| With Antiphus, and Halitherses sage, | 80 |
| His father’s counsellors, revered for age. | |
| Of his own fortunes, and Ulysses’ fame, | |
| Much ask’d the seniors; till Peiræus came. | |
| The stranger-guest pursued him close behind; | |
| Whom when Telemachus beheld, he join’d. | 85 |
| He (when Peiræus ask’d for slaves to bring | |
| The gifts and treasures of the Spartan King) | |
| Thus thoughtful answer’d: ‘Those we shall not move, | |
| Dark and unconscious of the will of Jove: | |
| We know not yet the full event of all; | 90 |
| Stabb’d in his palace if your Prince must fall. | |
| Us, and our house, if treason must o’er-throw, | |
| Better a friend possess them than a foe; | |
| If death to these, and vengeance, Heav’n decree, | |
| Riches are welcome then, not else, to me. | 95 |
| Till then retain the gifts.’—The hero said, | |
| And in his hand the willing stranger led. | |
| Then, disarray’d, the shining bath they sought | |
| (With unguents smooth) of polish’d marble wrought; | |
| Obedient handmaids with assistant toil | 100 |
| Supply the limpid wave, and fragrant oil; | |
| Then o’er their limbs refulgent robes they threw, | |
| And fresh from bathing to their seats withdrew. | |
| The golden ewer a nymph attendant brings, | |
| Replenish’d from the pure translucent springs: | 105 |
| With copious streams that golden ewer supplies | |
| A silver laver of capacious size. | |
| They wash: the table, in fair order spread, | |
| Is piled with viands and the strength of bread. | |
| Full opposite, before the folding gate, | 110 |
| The pensive mother sits in humble state; | |
| Lowly she sate, and with dejected view | |
| The fleecy threads her iv’ry fingers drew. | |
| The Prince and stranger shared the genial feast, | |
| Till now the rage of thirst and hunger ceas’d. | 115 |
| When thus the Queen: ‘My son! my only friend! | |
| Say, to my mournful couch shall I ascend | |
| (The couch deserted now a length of years; | |
| The couch for ever water’d with my tears)? | |
| Say, wilt thou now (ere yet the suitor crew | 120 |
| Return, and riot shakes our walls anew), | |
| Say, wilt thou not the least account afford? | |
| The least glad tidings of my absent lord?’ | |
| To her the youth: ‘We reach’d the Pylian plains, | |
| Where Nestor, shepherd of his people, reigns. | 125 |
| All arts of tenderness to him are known, | |
| Kind to Ulysses’ race as to his own: | |
| No father with a fonder grasp of joy | |
| Strains to his bosom his long-absent boy. | |
| But all unknown, if yet Ulysses breathe, | 130 |
| Or glide a spectre in the realms beneath: | |
| For farther search, his rapid steeds transport | |
| My lengthen’d journey to the Spartan court. | |
| There Argive Helen I beheld, whose charms | |
| (So Heav’n decreed) engaged the great in arms. | 135 |
| My cause of coming told, he thus rejoin’d; | |
| And still his words live perfect in my mind: | |
| ‘“Heav’ns! would a soft, inglorious, dastard train | |
| An absent hero’d nuptial joys profane! | |
| So with her young, amid the woodland shades, | 140 |
| A tim’rous hind the lion’s court invades, | |
| Leaves in that fatal lair her tender fawns, | |
| And climbs the cliffs, or feeds along the lawns; | |
| Meantime returning, with remorseless sway | |
| The monarch savage rends the panting prey: | 145 |
| With equal fury, and with equal fame, | |
| Shall great Ulysses reassert his claim. | |
| O Jove! Supreme! whom men and Gods rever; | |
| And thou, whose lustre gilds the rolling sphere | |
| With power congenial join’d, propitious aid | 150 |
| The Chief adopted by the Martial Maid! | |
| Such to our wish the warrior soon restore, | |
| As when, contending on the Lesbian shore, | |
| His prowess Philomelides confess’d, | |
| And loud acclaiming Greeks the victor bless’d: | 155 |
| Then soon th’ invaders of his bed and throne, | |
| Their love presumptuous shall by death atone. | |
| Now what you question of my ancient friend, | |
| With truth I answer; thou the truth attend. | |
| Learn what I heard the sea-born seer relate, | 160 |
| Whose eye can pierce the dark recess of fate. | |
| Sole in an isle, imprison’d by the main, | |
| The sad survivor of his numerous train, | |
| Ulysses lies; detain’d by magic charms, | |
| And press’d unwilling in Calypso’s arms. | 165 |
| No sailors there, no vessels to convey, | |
| No oars to cut th’ immeasurable way.” | |
| This told Atrides, and he told no more. | |
| Then safe I voyaged to my native shore.’ | |
| He ceas’d; nor made the pensive Queen reply, | 170 |
| But droop’d her head, and drew a secret sigh. | |
| When Theoclymenus the seer began: | |
| ‘O suff’ring consort of the suff’ring man! | |
| What human knowledge could, those Kings might tell, | |
| But I the secrets of high Heav’n reveal. | 175 |
| Before the first of Gods be this declared, | |
| Before the board whose blessings we have shared; | |
| Witness the genial rites, and witness all | |
| This house holds sacred in her ample wall! | |
| Ev’n now, this instant, great Ulysses, laid | 180 |
| At rest, or wand’ring in his country’s shade, | |
| Their guilty deeds, in hearing, and in view, | |
| Secret revolves; and plans the vengeance due. | |
| Of this sure auguries the Gods bestow’d, | |
| When first our vessel anchor’d in your road.’ | 185 |
| ‘Succeed those omens, Heav’n!’ (the Queen rejoin’d) | |
| ‘So shall our bounties speak a grateful mind: | |
| And every envied happiness attend | |
| The man who calls Penelope his friend.’ | |
| Thus communed they: while in the marble court | 190 |
| (Scene of their insolence) the lords resort; | |
| Athwart the spacious square each tries his art, | |
| To whirl the disk, or aim the missile dart. | |
| Now did the hour of sweet repast arrive, | |
| And from the field the victim flocks they drive: | 195 |
| Medon the Herald (one who pleas’d them best, | |
| And honour’d with a portion of their feast), | |
| To bid the banquet, interrupts their play: | |
| Swift to the hall they haste; aside they lay | |
| Their garments, and succinct the victims slay. | 200 |
| Then sheep, and goats, and bristly porkers bled, | |
| And the proud steer was o’er the marble spread. | |
| While thus the copious banquet they provide, | |
| Along the road, conversing side by side, | |
| Proceed Ulysses and the faithful swain: | 205 |
| When thus Eumæus, gen’rous and humane: | |
| ‘To town, observant of our lord’s behest, | |
| Now let us speed: my friend, no more my guest! | |
| Yet like myself I wish thee here preferr’d, | |
| Guard of the flock, or keeper of the herd. | 210 |
| But much to raise my master’s wrath I fear; | |
| The wrath of Princes ever is severe. | |
| Then heed his will, and be our journey made | |
| While the broad beams of Phœbus are display’d, | |
| Or ere brown ev’ning spreads her chilly shade.’ | 215 |
| ‘Just thy advice’ (the prudent Chief rejoin’d), | |
| ‘And such as suits the dictate of my mind. | |
| Lead on: but help me to some staff to stay | |
| My feeble step, since rugged is the way.’ | |
| Across his shoulders then the scrip he flung, | 220 |
| Wide-patch’d, and fasten’d by a twisted thong. | |
| A staff Eumæus gave. Along the way | |
| Cheerly they fare: behind, the keepers stay; | |
| These with their watchful dogs (a constant guard) | |
| Supply his absence, and attend the herd. | 225 |
| And now his city strikes the Monarch’s eyes, | |
| Alas! how changed! a man of miseries; | |
| Propp’d on a staff, a beggar old and bare, | |
| In rags dishonest flutt’ring with the air! | |
| Now, pass’d the rugged road, they journey down | 230 |
| The cavern’d way descending to the town, | |
| Where, from the rock, with liquid drops distils | |
| A limpid fount, that, spread in parting rills, | |
| Its current thence to serve the city brings; | |
| A useful work, adorn’d by ancient kings. | 235 |
| Neritus, Ithacus, Polyctor, there, | |
| In sculptured stone immortalized their care; | |
| In marble urns receiv’d it from above, | |
| And shaded with a green surrounding grove; | |
| Where silver alders, in high arches twin’d, | 240 |
| Drink the cool stream, and tremble to the wind. | |
| Beneath, sequester’d to the nymphs, is seen | |
| A mossy altar, deep embower’d in green; | |
| Where constant vows by travellers are paid, | |
| And holy horrors solemnize the shade. | 245 |
| Here, with his goats (not vow’d to sacred flame, | |
| But pamper’d luxury), Melanthius came: | |
| Two grooms attend him. With an envious look | |
| He eyed the stranger, and imperious spoke: | |
| ‘The good old proverb how this pair fulfil! | 250 |
| One rogue is usher to another still. | |
| Heav’n with a secret principle endued | |
| Mankind, to seek their own similitude. | |
| Where goes the swineherd with that ill-look’d guest? | |
| That giant glutton, dreadful at a feast! | 255 |
| Full many a post have those broad shoulders worn, | |
| From ev’ry great man’s gate repuls’d with scorn: | |
| To no brave prize aspired the worthless swain, | |
| ’T was but for scraps he ask’d, and ask’d in vain. | |
| To beg, than work, he better understands; | 260 |
| Or we perhaps might take him off thy hands. | |
| For any office could the slave be good, | |
| To cleanse the fold, or help the kids to food, | |
| If any labour those big joints could learn, | |
| Some whey, to wash his bowels, he might earn. | 265 |
| To cringe, to whine, his idle hands to spread, | |
| Is all by which that graceless maw is fed. | |
| Yet hear me! if thy impudence but dare | |
| Approach yon walls, I prophesy thy fare: | |
| Dearly, full dearly, shalt thou buy thy bread | 270 |
| With many a footstool thund’ring at thy head.’ | |
| He thus: nor insolent of word alone, | |
| Spurn’d with his rustic heel his King unknown; | |
| Spurn’d, but not mov’d: he like a pillar stood, | |
| Nor stirr’d an inch, contemptuous, from the road: | 275 |
| Doubtful, or with his staff to strike him dead, | |
| Or greet the pavement with his worthless head. | |
| Short was that doubt; to quell his rage inured, | |
| The hero stood self-conquer’d, and endured. | |
| But hateful of the wretch, Eumæus heav’d | 280 |
| His hands obtesting, and this prayer conceiv’d: | |
| ‘Daughters of Jove! who from th’ ethereal bowers | |
| Descend to swell the springs, and feed the flowers! | |
| Nymphs of this fountain! to whose sacred names | |
| Our rural victims mount in blazing flames! | 285 |
| To whom Ulysses’ piety preferr’d | |
| The yearly firstlings of his flock, and herd; | |
| Succeed my wish, your votary restore: | |
| Oh, be some God his convoy to our shore! | |
| Due pains shall punish then this slave’s offence, | 290 |
| And humble all his airs of insolence, | |
| Who, proudly stalking, leaves the herds at large, | |
| Commences courtier, and neglects his charge.’ | |
| ‘What mutters he?’ (Melanthius sharp rejoins) | |
| ‘This crafty miscreant big with dark designs? | 295 |
| The day shall come; nay, ’t is already near, | |
| When, slave! to sell thee at a price too dear | |
| Must be my care; and hence transport thee o’er, | |
| A load and scandal to this happy shore. | |
| Oh that as surely great Apollo’s dart, | 300 |
| Or some brave suitor’s sword, might pierce the heart | |
| Of the proud son, as that we stand this hour | |
| In lasting safety from the father’s power!’ | |
| So spoke the wretch, but, shunning farther fray, | |
| Turn’d his proud step, and left them on their way. | 305 |
| Straight to the feastful palace he repair’d, | |
| Familiar enter’d, and the banquet shared; | |
| Beneath Eurymachus, his patron lord, | |
| He took his place, and plenty heap’d the board. | |
| Meantime they heard, soft-circling in the sky, | 310 |
| Sweet airs ascend, and heav’nly minstrelsy | |
| (For Phemius to the lyre attuned the strain): | |
| Ulysses hearken’d, then address’d the swain: | |
| ‘Well may this palace admiration claim, | |
| Great, and respondent to the master’s fame! | 315 |
| Stage above stage th’ imperial structure stands, | |
| Holds the chief honours, and the town commands: | |
| High walls and battlements the courts inclose, | |
| And the strong gates defy a host of foes. | |
| Far other cares its dwellers now employ; | 320 |
| The throng’d assembly and the feast of joy: | |
| I see the smokes of sacrifice aspire, | |
| And hear (what graces ev’ry feast) the lyre.’ | |
| Then thus Eumæus: ‘Judge we which were best: | |
| Amidst yon revellers a sudden guest | 325 |
| Choose you to mingle, while behind I stay? | |
| Or I first ent’ring introduce the way? | |
| Wait for a space without, but wait not long; | |
| This is the house of violence and wrong: | |
| Some rude insult thy rev’rend age may bear; | 330 |
| For like their lawless lords the servants are.’ | |
| ‘Just is, O Friend! thy caution, and address’d’ | |
| (Replied the Chief) ‘to no unheedful breast: | |
| The wrongs and injuries of base mankind | |
| Fresh to my sense, and always in my mind. | 335 |
| The bravely-patient to no fortune yields: | |
| On rolling oceans, and in fighting fields, | |
| Storms have I pass’d, and many a stern debate; | |
| And now in humbler scene submit to Fate. | |
| What cannot Want? The best she will expose, | 340 |
| And I am learn’d in all her train of woes; | |
| She fills with navies, hosts, and loud alarms | |
| The sea, the land, and shakes the world with arms!’ | |
| Thus near the gates conferring as they drew, | |
| Argus, the dog, his ancient master knew; | 345 |
| He, not unconscious of the voice and tread, | |
| Lifts to the sound his ear, and rears his head; | |
| Bred by Ulysses, nourish’d at his board, | |
| But ah! not fated long to please his lord! | |
| To him, his swiftness and his strength were vain; | 350 |
| The voice of glory call’d him o’er the main. | |
| Till then in ev’ry sylvan chase renown’d, | |
| With Argus, Argus, rung the woods around: | |
| With him the youth pursued the goat or fawn, | |
| Or traced the mazy lev’ret o’er the lawn. | 355 |
| Now left to man’s ingratitude he lay, | |
| Unhous’d, neglected in the public way; | |
| And where on heaps the rich manure was spread, | |
| Obscene with reptiles, took his sordid bed. | |
| He knew his lord; he knew, and strove to meet; | 360 |
| In vain he strove to crawl and kiss his feet; | |
| Yet (all he could) his tail, his ears, his eyes | |
| Salute his master, and confess his joys. | |
| Soft pity touch’d the mighty master’s soul; | |
| Adown his cheek a tear unbidden stole, | 365 |
| Stole unperceiv’d; he turn’d his head and dried | |
| The drop humane; then thus impassion’d cried: | |
| ‘What noble beast in this abandon’d state | |
| Lies here all helpless at Ulysses’ gate? | |
| His bulk and beauty speak no vulgar praise: | 370 |
| If, as he seems, he was in better days, | |
| Some care his age deserves; or was he prized | |
| For worthless beauty? therefore now despised: | |
| Such dogs and men there are, mere things of state: | |
| And always cherish’d by their friends, the great.’ | 375 |
| ‘Not Argus so’ (Eumæus thus rejoin’d), | |
| ‘But serv’d a master of a nobler kind, | |
| Who never, never shall behold him more! | |
| Long, long since perish’d on a distant shore! | |
| Oh had you seen him, vig’rous, bold, and young, | 380 |
| Swift as a stag, and as a lion strong: | |
| Him no fell savage on the plain withstood, | |
| None ’scaped him bosom’d in the gloomy wood: | |
| His eye how piercing, and his scent how true, | |
| To wind the vapour in the tainted dew! | 385 |
| Such, when Ulysses left his natal coast; | |
| Now years unnerve him, and his lord is lost! | |
| The women keep the gen’rous creature bare, | |
| A sleek and idle race is all their care: | |
| The master gone, the servants what restrains? | 390 |
| Or dwells humanity where riot reigns? | |
| Jove fix’d it certain, that whatever day | |
| Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away.’ | |
| This said, the honest herdsman strode before: | |
| The musing Monarch pauses at the door: | 395 |
| The dog, whom Fate had granted to behold | |
| His lord, when twenty tedious years had roll’d, | |
| Takes a last look, and, having seen him, dies: | |
| So closed for ever faithful Argus’ eyes! | |
| And now Telemachus, the first of all, | 400 |
| Observ’d Eumæus ent’ring in the hall; | |
| Distant he saw, across the shady dome; | |
| Then gave a sign, and beckon’d him to come. | |
| There stood an empty seat, where late was placed, | |
| In order due, the steward of the feast | 405 |
| (Who now was busied carving round the board); | |
| Eumæus took, and placed it near his lord. | |
| Before him instant was the banquet spread, | |
| And the bright basket piled with loaves of bread; | |
| Next came Ulysses lowly at the door, | 410 |
| A figure despicable, old, and poor, | |
| In squalid vests, with many a gaping rent, | |
| Propp’d on a staff, and trembling as he went. | |
| Then resting on the threshold of the gate, | |
| Against a cypress pillar lean’d his weight | 415 |
| (Smooth’d by the workman to a polish’d plane); | |
| The thoughtful son beheld, and call’d his swain: | |
| ‘These viands, and this bread, Eumæus! bear, | |
| And let you mendicant our plenty share: | |
| Then let him circle round the suitors’ board, | 420 |
| And try the bounty of each gracious lord. | |
| Bold let him ask, encouraged thus by me; | |
| How ill, alas! do want and shame agree!’ | |
| His lord’s command the faithful servant bears: | |
| The seeming beggar answers with his prayers: | 425 |
| ‘Bless’d be Telemachus! in ev’ry deed | |
| Inspire him, Jove! in ev’ry wish succeed!’ | |
| This said, the portion from his son convey’d | |
| With smiles receiving on his scrip he laid. | |
| Long as the minstrel swept the sounding wire, | 430 |
| He fed, and ceas’d when silence held the lyre | |
| Soon as the suitors from the banquet rose, | |
| Minerva prompts the man of mighty rose, | |
| To tempt their bounties with a suppliant’s art, | |
| And learn the gen’rous from th’ ignoble heart | 435 |
| (Not but his soul, resentful as humane, | |
| Dooms to full vengeance all th’ offending train); | |
| With speaking eyes, and voice of plaintive sound, | |
| Humble he moves, imploring all around. | |
| The proud feel pity, and relief bestow, | 440 |
| With such an image touch’d of human woe; | |
| Inquiring all, their wonder they confess, | |
| And eye the man, majestic in distress. | |
| While thus they gaze and question with their eyes, | |
| The bold Melanthius to their thought replies: | 445 |
| ‘My lords! this stranger of gigantic port | |
| The good Eumæus usher’d to your court. | |
| Full well I mark’d the features of his face, | |
| Tho’ all unknown his clime, or noble race.’ | |
| ‘And is this present, swineherd! of thy hand? | 450 |
| Bring’st thou these vagrants to infest the land?’ | |
| (Returns Antinoüs with retorted eye) | |
| ‘Objects uncouth, to check the genial joy? | |
| Enough of these our court already grace, | |
| Of giant stomach, and of famish’d face. | 455 |
| Such guests Eumæus to his country brings, | |
| To share our feast, and lead the life of Kings.’ | |
| To whom the hospitable swain rejoin’d: | |
| ‘Thy passion, Prince, belies thy knowing mind. | |
| Who calls, from distant nations to his own, | 460 |
| The poor, distinguish’d by their wants alone? | |
| Round the wide world are sought those men divine | |
| Who public structures raise, or who design; | |
| Those to whose eyes the Gods their ways reveal, | |
| Or bless with salutary arts to heal; | 465 |
| But chief to poets such respect belongs, | |
| By rival nations courted for their songs: | |
| These states invite, and mighty Kings admire, | |
| Wide as the sun displays his vital fire. | |
| It is not so with want! how few that feed | 470 |
| A wretch unhappy, merely for his need! | |
| Unjust to me, and all that serve the state, | |
| To love Ulysses is to raise thy hate. | |
| For me, suffice the approbation won | |
| Of my great mistress, and her godlike son.’ | 475 |
| To him Telemachus: ‘No more incense | |
| The man by nature prone to insolence; | |
| Injurious minds just answers but provoke:’ | |
| Then, turning to Antinoüs, thus he spoke: | |
| ‘Thanks to thy care! whose absolute command | 480 |
| Thus drives the stranger from our court and land. | |
| Heav’n bless its owner with a better mind! | |
| From envy free, to charity inclin’d. | |
| This both Penelope and I afford: | |
| Then, Prince! be bounteous of Ulysses’ board. | 485 |
| To give another’s is thy hand so slow? | |
| So much more sweet to spoil than to bestow?’ | |
| ‘Whence, great Telemachus! this lofty strain?’ | |
| (Antinoüs cries with insolent disdain) | |
| ‘Portions like mine if ev’ry suitor gave, | 490 |
| Our walls this twelvemonth should not see the slave.’ | |
| He spoke, and lifting high above the board | |
| His pond’rous footstool, shook it at his lord. | |
| The rest with equal hand conferr’d the bread; | |
| He fill’d his scrip, and to the threshold sped; | 495 |
| But first before Antinoüs stopp’d, and said: | |
| ‘Bestow, my Friend! thou dost not seem the worst | |
| Of all the Greeks, but prince-like and the first; | |
| Then, as in dignity, be first in worth, | |
| And I shall praise thee thro’ the boundless earth. | 500 |
| Once I enjoy’d in luxury of state | |
| Whate’er gives man the envied name of great; | |
| Wealth, servants, friends, were mine in better days; | |
| And hospitality was then my praise; | |
| In ev’ry sorrowing soul I pour’d delight, | 505 |
| And Poverty stood smiling in my sight. | |
| But Jove, all-governing, whose only will | |
| Determines Fate, and mingles good with ill, | |
| Sent me (to punish my pursuit of gain) | |
| With roving pirates o’er th’ Ægyptian main: | 510 |
| By Ægypt’s silver flood our ships we moor; | |
| Our spies commission’d straight the coast explore; | |
| But, impotent of mind, with lawless will | |
| The country ravage and the natives kill. | |
| The spreading clamour to their city flies, | 515 |
| And horse and foot in mingled tumult rise: | |
| The redd’ning dawn reveals the hostile fields | |
| Horrid with bristly spears, and gleaming shields: | |
| Jove thunder’d on their side: our guilty head | |
| We turn’d to flight; the gath’ring vengeance spread | 520 |
| On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lay dead. | |
| Some few the foe in servitude detain; | |
| Death ill-exchanged for bondage and for pain! | |
| Unhappy me a Cyprian took aboard, | |
| And gave to Dmetor, Cyprus’ haughty lord: | 525 |
| Hither, to ’scape his chains, my course I steer, | |
| Still curs’d by fortune, and insulted here!’ | |
| To whom Antinoüs thus his rage express’d: | |
| ‘What God has plagued us with this gormand guest? | |
| Unless at distance, Wretch! thou keep behind, | 530 |
| Another isle, than Cyprus more unkind, | |
| Another Ægypt, shalt thou quickly find. | |
| From all thou begg’st, a bold audacious slave; | |
| Nor all can give so much as thou canst crave. | |
| Nor wonder I at such profusion shown; | 535 |
| Shameless they give, who give what ’s not their own.’ | |
| The Chief, retiring, ‘Souls, like that in thee, | |
| Ill suit such forms of grace and dignity. | |
| Nor will that hand to utmost need afford | |
| The smallest portion of a wasteful board, | 540 |
| Whose luxury whole patrimonies sweeps, | |
| Yet starving want, amidst the riot, weeps.’ | |
| The haughty suitor with resentment burns, | |
| And, sourly smiling, this reply returns: | |
| ‘Take that, ere yet thou quit this princely throng; | 545 |
| And dumb for ever be thy sland’rous tongue!’ | |
| He said, and high the whirling tripod flung. | |
| His shoulder-blade receiv’d th’ ungentle shock: | |
| He stood, and moved not, like a marble rock; | |
| But shook his thoughtful head, nor more complain’d, | 550 |
| Sedate of soul, his character sustain’d, | |
| And inly form’d revenge: then back withdrew: | |
| Before his feet the well-fill’d scrip he threw, | |
| And thus with semblance mild address’d the crew: | |
| ‘May what I speak your princely minds approve, | 555 |
| Ye Peers and Rivals in this noble love! | |
| Not for the hurt I grieve, but for the cause. | |
| If, when the sword our country’s quarrel draws, | |
| Or if, defending what is justly dear, | |
| From Mars impartial some broad wound we bear, | 560 |
| The gen’rous motive dignifies the scar. | |
| But for mere want, how hard to suffer wrong! | |
| Want brings enough of other ills along! | |
| Yet, if unjustice never be secure, | |
| If fiends revenge, and Gods assert the poor, | 565 |
| Death shall lay low the proud aggressor’s head, | |
| And make the dust Antinoüs’ bridal bed.’ | |
| ‘Peace, wretch! and eat thy bread without offence’ | |
| (The suitor cried), ‘or force shall drag thee hence, | |
| Scourge thro’ the public street, and cast thee there, | 570 |
| A mangled carcass for the hounds to tear.’ | |
| His furious deed the gen’ral anger mov’d; | |
| All, ev’n the worst, condemn’d: and some reprov’d. | |
| ‘Was ever Chief for wars like these renown’d? | |
| Ill fits the stranger and the poor to wound. | 575 |
| Unbless’d thy hand, if, in this low disguise, | |
| Wander, perhaps, some inmate of the skies: | |
| They (curious oft of mortal actions) deign | |
| In forms like these to round the earth and main, | |
| Just and unjust recording in their mind, | 580 |
| And with sure eyes inspecting all mankind.’ | |
| Telemachus, absorb’d in thought severe, | |
| Nourish’d deep anguish, tho’ he shed no tear; | |
| But the dark brow of silent sorrow shook: | |
| While thus his mother to her virgins spoke: | 585 |
| ‘On him and his may the bright God of Day | |
| That base inhospitable blow repay!’ | |
| The nurse replies: ‘If Jove receives my prayer, | |
| Not one survives to breathe to-morrow’s air.’ | |
| ‘All, all are foes, and mischief is their end; | 590 |
| Antinoüs most to gloomy death a friend’ | |
| (Replies the Queen): ‘the stranger begg’d their grace, | |
| And melting pity soften’d ev’ry face; | |
| From ev’ry other hand redress he found, | |
| But fell Antinoüs answer’d with a wound.’ | 595 |
| Amidst her maids thus spoke the prudent Queen, | |
| Then bade Eumæus call the pilgrim in. | |
| ‘Much of th’ experienc’d man I long to hear, | |
| If or his certain eye, or list’ning ear, | |
| Have learn’d the fortunes of my wand’ring lord?’ | 600 |
| Thus she, and good Eumæus took the word: | |
| ‘A private audience if thy grace impart, | |
| The stranger’s words may ease the royal heart. | |
| His sacred eloquence in balm distils, | |
| And the soothed heart with secret pleasure fills. | 605 |
| Three days have spent their beams, three nights have run | |
| Their silent journey since his tale begun, | |
| Unfinish’d yet; and yet I thirst to hear! | |
| As when some Heav’n-taught poet charms the ear | |
| (Suspending sorrow with celestial strain | 610 |
| Breathed from the Gods to soften human pain), | |
| Time steals away with unregarded wing, | |
| And the soul hears him, tho’ he cease to sing. | |
| ‘Ulysses late he saw, on Cretan ground | |
| (His father’s guest), for Minos’ birth renown’d. | 615 |
| He now but waits the wind, to waft him o’er, | |
| With boundless treasure, from Thesprotia’s shore.’ | |
| To this the Queen: ‘The wand’rer let me hear, | |
| While yon luxurious race indulge their cheer, | |
| Devour the grazing ox, and browsing goat, | 620 |
| And turn my gen’rous vintage down their throat. | |
| For where ’s an arm, like thine, Ulysses! strong, | |
| To curb wild riot, and to punish wrong?’ | |
| She spoke. Telemachus then sneez’d aloud; | |
| Constrain’d, his nostril echoed thro’ the crowd. | 625 |
| The smiling Queen the happy omen bless’d: | |
| ‘So may these impious fall, by Fate oppress’d!’ | |
| Then to Eumæus: ‘Bring the stranger, fly! | |
| And if my questions meet a true reply, | |
| Graced with a decent robe he shall retire, | 630 |
| A gift in season which his wants require.’ | |
| Thus spoke Penelope. Eumæus flies | |
| In duteous haste, and to Ulysses cries: | |
| ‘The Queen invites thee, venerable Guest! | |
| A secret instinct moves her troubled breast, | 635 |
| Of her long absent lord from thee to gain | |
| Some light, and soothe her soul’s eternal pain. | |
| If true, if faithful thou, her grateful mind | |
| Of decent robes a present has design’d: | |
| So finding favour in the royal eye, | 640 |
| Thy other wants her subjects shall supply.’ | |
| ‘Fair truth alone’ (the patient man replied) | |
| ‘My words shall dictate, and my lips shall guide. | |
| To him, to me, one common lot was giv’n, | |
| In equal woes, alas! involv’d by Heav’n. | 645 |
| Much of his fates I know: but check’d by fear | |
| I stand; the hand of violence is here: | |
| Here boundless wrongs the starry skies invade, | |
| And injured suppliants seek in vain for aid. | |
| Let for a space the pensive Queen attend, | 650 |
| Nor claim my story till the sun descend; | |
| Then in such robes as suppliants may require, | |
| Composed and cheerful by the genial fire, | |
| When loud uproar and lawless riot cease, | |
| Shall her pleas’d ear receive my words in peace.’ | 655 |
| Swift to the Queen returns the gentle swain: | |
| ‘And say’ (she cries), ‘does fear, or shame, detain | |
| The cautious stranger? With the begging kind | |
| Shame suits but ill.’ Eumæus thus rejoin’d: | |
| ‘He only asks a more propitious hour, | 660 |
| And shuns (who would not?) wicked men in power; | |
| At ev’ning mild (meet season to confer), | |
| By turns to question, and by turns to hear.’ | |
| ‘Whoe’er this guest’ (the prudent Queen replies), | |
| ‘His ev’ry step and ev’ry thought is wise. | 665 |
| For men like these on earth he shall not find | |
| In all the miscreant race of human kind.’ | |
| Thus she. Eumæus all her words attends, | |
| And, parting, to the suitor powers descends; | |
| There seeks Telemachus, and thus apart | 670 |
| In whispers breathes the fondness of his heart: | |
| ‘The time, my lord, invites me to repair | |
| Hence to the lodge; my charge demands my care. | |
| These sons of murder thirst thy life to take; | |
| O guard it, guard it, for thy servants’ sake!’ | 675 |
| ‘Thanks to my friend’ (he cries); ‘but now the hour | |
| Of night draws on; go seek the rural bower: | |
| But first refresh; and at the dawn of day | |
| Hither a victim to the Gods convey. | |
| Our life to Heav’n’s immortal Powers we trust, | 680 |
| Safe in their care, for Heav’n protects the just.’ | |
| Observant of his voice, Eumæus sate, | |
| And fed recumbent on a chair of state. | |
| Then instant rose, and, as he mov’d along, | |
| ’T was riot all amid the suitor throng: | 685 |
| They feast, they dance, and raise the mirthful song. | |
| Till now, declining toward the close of day, | |
| The sun obliquely shot his dewy ray. | |
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