No More Learning

since his return, in thy account,
Is an event impossible, and thy mind
Always incredulous that hope rejects,
I shall not slightly speak, but with an oath--
Ulysses comes again; and I demand
No more, than that the boon such news deserves,
Be giv'n me soon as he shall reach his home.
Then give me vest and mantle fit to wear,
Which, ere that hour, much as I need them both, 190
I neither ask, nor will accept from thee.
For him whom poverty can force aside
From truth--I hate him as the gates of hell.
Be Jove, of all in heav'n, my witness first,
Then, this thy hospitable board, and, last,
The household Gods of the illustrious Chief
Himself, Ulysses, to whose gates I go,
That all my words shall surely be fulfill'd.
In this same year Ulysses shall arrive,
Ere, this month closed, another month succeed, 200
He shall return, and punish all who dare
Insult his consort and his noble son.
To whom Eumaeus, thou didst thus reply.
Old friend! that boon thou wilt ne'er earn from me;
Ulysses comes no more. But thou thy wine
Drink quietly, and let us find, at length,
Some other theme; recall not this again
To my remembrance, for my soul is grieved
Oft as reminded of my honour'd Lord.
Let the oath rest, and let Ulysses come 210
Ev'n as myself, and as Penelope,
And as his ancient father, and his son
Godlike Telemachus, all wish he may.
Ay--there I feel again--nor cease to mourn
His son Telemachus; who, when the Gods
Had giv'n him growth like a young plant, and I
Well hoped that nought inferior he should prove
In person or in mind to his own sire,
Hath lost, through influence human or divine,
I know not how, his sober intellect, 220
And after tidings of his sire is gone
To far-famed Pylus; his return, meantime,
In ambush hidden the proud suitors wait,
That the whole house may perish of renown'd
Arcesias, named in Ithaca no more.
But whether he have fallen or 'scaped, let him
Rest also, whom Saturnian Jove protect!
But come, my ancient guest! now let me learn
Thy own afflictions; answer me in truth.
Who, and whence art thou? in what city born? 230
Where dwell thy parents; in what kind of ship
Cam'st thou? the mariners, why brought they thee
To Ithaca? and of what land are they?
For, that on foot thou found'st us not, is sure.
Him answer'd, then, Ulysses, ever-wise.
I will with truth resolve thee; and if here
Within thy cottage sitting, we had wine
And food for many a day, and business none
But to regale at ease while others toiled,
I could exhaust the year complete, my woes 240
Rehearsing, nor, at last, rehearse entire
My sorrows by the will of heav'n sustained.
I boast me sprung from ancestry renown'd
In spacious Crete; son of a wealthy sire,
Who other sons train'd num'rous in his house,
Born of his wedded wife; but he begat
Me on his purchased concubine, whom yet
Dear as his other sons in wedlock born
Castor Hylacides esteem'd and lov'd,
For him I boast my father. Him in Crete, 250
While yet he liv'd, all reverenc'd as a God,
So rich, so prosp'rous, and so blest was he
With sons of highest praise. But death, the doom
Of all, him bore to Pluto's drear abode,
And his illustrious sons among themselves
Portion'd his goods by lot; to me, indeed,
They gave a dwelling, and but little more,
Yet, for my virtuous qualities, I won
A wealthy bride, for I was neither vain
Nor base, forlorn as thou perceiv'st me now. 260
But thou canst guess, I judge, viewing the straw
What once was in the ear. Ah! I have borne
Much tribulation; heap'd and heavy woes.
Courage and phalanx-breaking might had I
From Mars and Pallas; at what time I drew,
(Planning some dread exploit) an ambush forth
Of our most valiant Chiefs, no boding fears
Of death seized _me_, but foremost far of all
I sprang to fight, and pierced the flying foe.
Such was I once in arms. But household toils 270
Sustain'd for children's sake, and carking cares
T' enrich a family, were not for me.
My pleasures were the gallant bark, the din
Of battle, the smooth spear and glitt'ring shaft,
Objects of dread to others, but which me
The Gods disposed to love and to enjoy.
Thus diff'rent minds are diff'rently amused;
For ere Achaia's fleet had sailed to Troy,
Nine times was I commander of an host
Embark'd against a foreign foe, and found 280
In all those enterprizes great success.
From the whole booty, first, what pleased me most
Chusing, and sharing also much by lot
I rapidly grew rich, and had thenceforth
Among the Cretans rev'rence and respect.
But when loud-thund'ring Jove that voyage dire
Ordain'd, which loos'd the knees of many a Greek,
Then, to Idomeneus and me they gave
The charge of all their fleet, which how to avoid
We found not, so importunate the cry 290
Of the whole host impell'd us to the task.
There fought we nine long years, and in the tenth
(Priam's proud city pillag'd) steer'd again
Our galleys homeward, which the Gods dispersed.
Then was it that deep-planning Jove devised
For me much evil. One short month, no more,
I gave to joys domestic, in my wife
Happy, and in my babes, and in my wealth,
When the desire seiz'd me with sev'ral ships
Well-rigg'd, and furnish'd all with gallant crews, 300
To sail for AEgypt; nine I fitted forth,
To which stout mariners assembled fast.
Six days the chosen partners of my voyage
Feasted, to whom I num'rous victims gave
For sacrifice, and for their own regale.
Embarking on the sev'nth from spacious Crete,
Before a clear breeze prosp'rous from the North
We glided easily along, as down
A river's stream; nor one of all my ships
Damage incurr'd, but healthy and at ease 310
We sat, while gales well-managed urged us on.
The fifth day thence, smooth-flowing Nile we reach'd,
And safe I moor'd in the AEgyptian stream.
Then, charging all my mariners to keep
Strict watch for preservation of the ships,
I order'd spies into the hill-tops; but they
Under the impulse of a spirit rash
And hot for quarrel, the well-cultur'd fields
Pillaged of the AEgyptians, captive led
Their wives and little ones, and slew the men. 320
Soon was the city alarm'd, and at the cry
Down came the citizens, by dawn of day,
With horse and foot, and with the gleam of arms
Filling the plain. Then Jove with panic dread
Struck all my people; none found courage more
To stand, for mischiefs swarm'd on ev'ry side.
There, num'rous by the glittering spear we fell
Slaughter'd, while others they conducted thence
Alive to servitude. But Jove himself
My bosom with this thought inspired, (I would 330
That, dying, I had first fulfill'd my fate
In AEgypt, for new woes were yet to come! )
Loosing my brazen casque, and slipping off
My buckler, there I left them on the field,
Then cast my spear away, and seeking, next,
The chariot of the sov'reign, clasp'd his knees,
And kiss'd them. He, by my submission moved,
Deliver'd me, and to his chariot-seat
Raising, convey'd me weeping to his home.
With many an ashen spear his warriors sought 340
To slay me, (for they now grew fiery wroth)
But he, through fear of hospitable Jove,
Chief punisher of wrong, saved me alive.
Sev'n years I there abode, and much amass'd
Among the AEgyptians, gifted by them all;
But, in the eighth revolving year, arrived
A shrewd Phoenician, in all fraud adept,
Hungry, and who had num'rous harm'd before,
By whom I also was cajoled, and lured
T' attend him to Phoenicia, where his house 350
And his possessions lay; there I abode
A year complete his inmate; but (the days
And months accomplish'd of the rolling year,
And the new seasons ent'ring on their course)
To Lybia then, on board his bark, by wiles
He won me with him, partner of the freight
Profess'd, but destin'd secretly to sale,
That he might profit largely by my price.
Not unsuspicious, yet constrain'd to go,
With this man I embark'd. A cloudless gale 360
Propitious blowing from the North, our ship
Ran right before it through the middle sea,
In the offing over Crete; but adverse Jove
Destruction plann'd for them and death the while.
For, Crete now left afar, and other land
Appearing none, but sky alone and sea,
Right o'er the hollow bark Saturnian Jove
A cloud caerulean hung, dark'ning the Deep.
Then, thund'ring oft, he hurl'd into the bark
His bolts; she smitten by the fires of Jove, 370
Quaked all her length; with sulphur fill'd she reek'd,
And, o'er her sides precipitated, plunged
Like gulls the crew, forbidden by that stroke
Of wrath divine to hope their country more.
But Jove himself, when I had cast away
All hope of life, conducted to my arms
The strong tall mast, that I might yet escape.
Around that beam I clung, driving before
The stormy blast. Nine days complete I drove,
And, on the tenth dark night, the rolling flood 380
Immense convey'd me to Thesprotia's shore.
There me the Hero Phidon, gen'rous King
Of the Thesprotians, freely entertained;
For his own son discov'ring me with toil
Exhausted and with cold, raised me, and thence
Led me humanely to his father's house,
Who cherish'd me, and gave me fresh attire.
There heard I of Ulysses, whom himself
Had entertain'd, he said, on his return
To his own land; he shew'd me also gold, 390
Brass, and bright steel elab'rate, whatsoe'er
Ulysses had amass'd, a store to feed
A less illustrious family than his
To the tenth generation, so immense
His treasures in the royal palace lay.
Himself, he said, was to Dodona gone,
There, from the tow'ring oaks of Jove to ask
Counsel divine, if openly to land
(After long absence) in his opulent realm
Of Ithaca, be best, or in disguise. 400
To me the monarch swore, in his own hall
Pouring libation, that the ship was launch'd,
And the crew ready for his conduct home.
But me he first dismiss'd, for, as it chanced,
A ship lay there of the Thesprotians, bound
To green Dulichium's isle. He bade the crew
Bear me to King Acastus with all speed;
But them far other thoughts pleased more, and thoughts
Of harm to me, that I might yet be plunged
In deeper gulphs of woe than I had known. 410
For, when the billow-cleaving bark had left
The land remote, framing, combined, a plot
Against my liberty, they stripp'd my vest
And mantle, and this tatter'd raiment foul
Gave me instead, which thy own eyes behold.
At even-tide reaching the cultur'd coast
Of Ithaca, they left me bound on board
With tackle of the bark, and quitting ship
Themselves, made hasty supper on the shore.
But me, meantime, the Gods easily loos'd 420
By their own pow'r, when, with wrapper vile
Around my brows, sliding into the sea
At the ship's stern, I lay'd me on the flood.
With both hands oaring thence my course, I swam
Till past all ken of theirs; then landing where
Thick covert of luxuriant trees I mark'd,
Close couchant down I lay; they mutt'ring loud,
Paced to and fro, but deeming farther search
Unprofitable, soon embark'd again.
Thus baffling all their search with ease, the Gods 430
Conceal'd and led me thence to the abode
Of a wise man, dooming me still to live.
To whom, Eumaeus, thou didst thus reply,
Alas! my most compassionable guest!
Thou hast much moved me by this tale minute
Of thy sad wand'rings and thy num'rous woes.
But, speaking of Ulysses, thou hast pass'd
All credence; I at least can give thee none.
Why, noble as thou art, should'st thou invent
Palpable falsehoods? as for the return 440
Of my regretted Lord, myself I know
That had he not been hated by the Gods
Unanimous, he had in battle died
At Troy, or (that long doubtful war, at last,
Concluded,) in his people's arms at home.
Then universal Greece had raised his tomb,
And he had even for his son atchiev'd
Immortal glory; but alas! by beaks
Of harpies torn, unseemly sight, he lies.
Here is my home the while; I never seek 450
The city, unless summon'd by discrete
Penelope to listen to the news
Brought by some stranger, whencesoe'er arrived.
Then, all, alike inquisitive, attend,
Both who regret the absence of our King,
And who rejoice gratuitous to gorge
His property; but as for me, no joy
Find I in list'ning after such reports,
Since an AEtolian cozen'd me, who found
(After long wand'ring over various lands 460
A fugitive for blood) my lone retreat.
Him warm I welcom'd, and with open arms
Receiv'd, who bold affirm'd that he had seen
My master with Idomeneus at Crete
His ships refitting shatter'd by a storm,
And that in summer with his godlike band
He would return, bringing great riches home,
Or else in autumn. And thou ancient guest
Forlorn! since thee the Gods have hither led,
Seek not to gratify me with untruths 470
And to deceive me, since for no such cause
I shall respect or love thee, but alone
By pity influenced, and the fear of Jove.
To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.
Thou hast, in truth, a most incredulous mind,
Whom even with an oath I have not moved,
Or aught persuaded. Come then--let us make
In terms express a cov'nant, and the Gods
Who hold Olympus, witness to us both!
If thy own Lord at this thy house arrive, 480
Thou shalt dismiss me decently attired
In vest and mantle, that I may repair
Hence to Dulichium, whither I would go.
But, if thy Lord come not, then, gath'ring all
Thy servants, headlong hurl me from a rock,
That other mendicants may fear to lie.
To whom the generous swine-herd in return.
Yes, stranger! doubtless I should high renown
Obtain for virtue among men, both now
And in all future times, if, having first 490
Invited thee, and at my board regaled,
I, next, should slay thee; then my pray'rs would mount,
Past question, swiftly to Saturnian Jove.
But the hour calls to supper, and, ere long,
The partners of my toils will come prepared
To spread the board with no unsav'ry cheer.
Thus they conferr'd. And now the swains arrived,
Driving their charge, which fast they soon enclosed
Within their customary penns, and loud
The hubbub was of swine prison'd within. 500
Then call'd the master to his rustic train.
Bring ye the best, that we may set him forth
Before my friend from foreign climes arrived,
With whom ourselves will also feast, who find
The bright-tusk'd multitude a painful charge,
While others, at no cost of theirs, consume
Day after day, the profit of our toils.
So saying, his wood for fuel he prepared,
And dragging thither a well-fatted brawn
Of the fifth year his servants held him fast 510
At the hearth-side. Nor failed the master swain
T' adore the Gods, (for wise and good was he)
But consecration of the victim, first,
Himself performing, cast into the fire
The forehead bristles of the tusky boar,
Then pray'd to all above, that, safe, at length,
Ulysses might regain his native home.
Then lifting an huge shive that lay beside
The fire, he smote the boar, and dead he fell,
Next, piercing him, and scorching close his hair, 520
They carv'd him quickly, and Eumaeus spread
Thin slices crude taken from ev'ry limb
O'er all his fat, then other slices cast,
Sprinkling them first with meal, into the fire.
The rest they slash'd and scored, and roasted well,
And placed it, heap'd together, on the board.
Then rose the good Eumaeus to his task
Of distribution, for he understood
The hospitable entertainer's part.
Sev'n-fold partition of the banquet made, 530
He gave, with previous pray'r, to Maia's son[63]
And to the nymphs one portion of the whole,
Then served his present guests, honouring first
Ulysses with the boar's perpetual chine;
By that distinction just his master's heart
He gratified, and thus the Hero spake.
Eumaeus! be thou as belov'd of Jove
As thou art dear to me, whom, though attired
So coarsely, thou hast served with such respect!
To whom, Eumaeus, thou didst thus reply. 540
Eat, noble stranger! and refreshment take
Such as thou may'st; God[64] gives, and God denies
At his own will, for He is Lord of all.
He said, and to the everlasting Gods
The firstlings sacrificed of all, then made
Libation, and the cup placed in the hands
Of city-spoiler Laertiades
Sitting beside his own allotted share.
Meantime, Mesaulius bread dispensed to all,
Whom, in the absence of his Lord, himself 550
Eumaeus had from Taphian traders bought
With his own proper goods, at no expence
Either to old Laertes or the Queen.
And now, all stretch'd their hands toward the feast
Reeking before them, and when hunger none
Felt more or thirst, Mesaulius clear'd the board.
Then, fed to full satiety, in haste
Each sought his couch. Black came a moonless night,
And Jove all night descended fast in show'rs,
With howlings of the ever wat'ry West. 560
Ulysses, at that sound, for trial sake
Of his good host, if putting off his cloak
He would accommodate him, or require
That service for him at some other hand,
Addressing thus the family, began.
Hear now, Eumaeus, and ye other swains
His fellow-lab'rers! I shall somewhat boast,
By wine befool'd, which forces ev'n the wise
To carol loud, to titter and to dance,
And words to utter, oft, better suppress'd. 570
But since I have begun, I shall proceed,
Prating my fill. Ah might those days return
With all the youth and strength that I enjoy'd,
When in close ambush, once, at Troy we lay!
Ulysses, Menelaus, and myself
Their chosen coadjutor, led the band.
Approaching to the city's lofty wall
Through the thick bushes and the reeds that gird
The bulwarks, down we lay flat in the marsh,
Under our arms, then Boreas blowing loud, 580
A rueful night came on, frosty and charged
With snow that blanch'd us thick as morning rime,
And ev'ry shield with ice was crystall'd o'er.
The rest with cloaks and vests well cover'd, slept
Beneath their bucklers; I alone my cloak,
Improvident, had left behind, no thought
Conceiving of a season so severe;
Shield and belt, therefore, and nought else had I.
The night, at last, nigh spent, and all the stars
Declining in their course, with elbow thrust 590
Against Ulysses' side I roused the Chief,
And thus address'd him ever prompt to hear.
Laertes' noble son, for wiles renown'd!
I freeze to death. Help me, or I am lost.
No cloak have I; some evil daemon, sure,
Beguil'd me of all prudence, that I came
Thus sparely clad; I shall, I must expire.
So I; he, ready as he was in arms
And counsel both, the remedy at once
Devised, and thus, low-whisp'ring, answer'd me. 600
Hush! lest perchance some other hear--He said,
And leaning on his elbow, spake aloud.
My friends! all hear--a monitory dream
Hath reach'd me, for we lie far from the ships.
Haste, therefore, one of you, with my request
To Agamemnon, Atreus' son, our Chief,
That he would reinforce us from the camp.
He spake, and at the word, Andraemon's son
Thoas arose, who, casting off his cloak,
Ran thence toward the ships, and folded warm 610
Within it, there lay I till dawn appear'd.
Oh for the vigour of such youth again!
Then, some good peasant here, either for love
Or for respect, would cloak a man like me,
Whom, now, thus sordid in attire ye scorn.
To whom, Eumaeus, thou didst thus reply.
My ancient guest! I cannot but approve
Thy narrative, nor hast thou utter'd aught
Unseemly, or that needs excuse. No want
Of raiment, therefore, or of aught beside 620
Needful to solace penury like thine,
Shall harm thee here; yet, at the peep of dawn
Gird thy own tatters to thy loins again;
For _we_ have no great store of cloaks to boast,
Or change of vests, but singly one for each.
But when Ulysses' son shall once arrive,
He will himself with vest and mantle both
Cloath thee, and send thee whither most thou would'st.
So saying, he rose, and nearer made his couch
To the hearth-side, spreading it thick with skins 630
Of sheep and goats; then lay the Hero down,
O'er whom a shaggy mantle large he threw,
Which oft-times served him with a change, when rough
The winter's blast and terrible arose.
So was Ulysses bedded, and the youths
Slept all beside him; but the master-swain
Chose not his place of rest so far remote
From his rude charge, but to the outer court
With his nocturnal furniture, repair'd,
Gladd'ning Ulysses' heart that one so true 640
In his own absence kept his rural stores.
Athwart his sturdy shoulders, first, he flung
His faulchion keen, then wrapp'd him in a cloak
Thick-woven, winter-proof; he lifted, next,
The skin of a well-thriven goat, in bulk
Surpassing others, and his javelin took
Sharp-pointed, with which dogs he drove and men.
Thus arm'd, he sought his wonted couch beneath
A hollow rock where the herd slept, secure
From the sharp current of the Northern blast. 650


FOOTNOTES:

[61] ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? . --The swineherd's was therefore in those days, and in
that country, an occupation honourable as well as useful. Barnes deems
the epithet ? ? ? ? significant of his noble birth. Vide Clarke in loco.

[62] It may be proper to suggest that Ulysses was lord of part of the
continent opposite to Ithaca--viz. --of the peninsula Nericus or Leuca,
which afterward became an island, and is now called Santa Maura. F.

[63] Mercury.

[64] ? ? ? ? --without a relative, and consequently signifying GOD in the
abstract, is not unfrequently found in Homer, though fearing to give
offence to serious minds unacquainted with the original, I have not
always given it that force in the translation. But here, the sentiment is
such as fixes the sense intended by the author with a precision that
leaves no option. It is observable too, that ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? --is an
ascription of power such as the poet never makes to his Jupiter.




BOOK XV

ARGUMENT

Telemachus, admonished by Minerva, takes leave of Menelaus, but ere he
sails, is accosted by Theoclymenos, a prophet of Argos, whom at his
earnest request he takes on board. In the meantime Eumaeus relates to
Ulysses the means by which he came to Ithaca. Telemachus arriving there,
gives orders for the return of his bark to the city, and repairs himself
to Eumaeus.


Meantime to Lacedaemon's spacious vale
Minerva went, that she might summon thence
Ulysses' glorious son to his own home.
Arrived, she found Telemachus reposed
And Nestor's son beneath the vestibule
Of Menelaus, mighty Chief; she saw
Pisistratus in bands of gentle sleep
Fast-bound, but not Telemachus; his mind
No rest enjoy'd, by filial cares disturb'd
Amid the silent night, when, drawing near 10
To his couch side, the Goddess thus began.
Thou canst no longer prudently remain
A wand'rer here, Telemachus! thy home
Abandon'd, and those haughty suitors left
Within thy walls; fear lest, partition made
Of thy possessions, they devour the whole,
And in the end thy voyage bootless prove.
Delay not; from brave Menelaus ask
Dismission hence, that thou may'st find at home
Thy spotless mother, whom her brethren urge 20
And her own father even now to wed
Eurymachus, in gifts and in amount
Of proffer'd dow'r superior to them all.
Some treasure, else, shall haply from thy house
Be taken, such as thou wilt grudge to spare.
For well thou know'st how woman is disposed;
Her whole anxiety is to encrease
His substance whom she weds; no care hath she
Of her first children, or remembers more
The buried husband of her virgin choice. 30
Returning then, to her of all thy train
Whom thou shalt most approve, the charge commit
Of thy concerns domestic, till the Gods
Themselves shall guide thee to a noble wife.
Hear also this, and mark it. In the frith
Samos the rude, and Ithaca between,
The chief of all her suitors thy return
In vigilant ambush wait, with strong desire
To slay thee, ere thou reach thy native shore,
But shall not, as I judge, till the earth hide 40
Many a lewd reveller at thy expence.
Yet, steer thy galley from those isles afar,
And voyage make by night; some guardian God
Shall save thee, and shall send thee prosp'rous gales.
Then, soon as thou attain'st the nearest shore
Of Ithaca, dispatching to the town
Thy bark with all thy people, seek at once
The swine-herd; for Eumaeus is thy friend.
There sleep, and send him forth into the town
With tidings to Penelope, that safe 50
Thou art restored from Pylus home again.
She said, and sought th' Olympian heights sublime.
Then, with his heel shaking him, he awoke
The son of Nestor, whom he thus address'd.
Rise, Nestor's son, Pisistratus! lead forth
The steeds, and yoke them. We must now depart.
To whom the son of Nestor thus replied.
Telemachus! what haste soe'er we feel,
We can by no means prudently attempt
To drive by night, and soon it will be dawn. 60
Stay, therefore, till the Hero, Atreus' son,
Spear-practis'd Menelaus shall his gifts
Place in the chariot, and with kind farewell
Dismiss thee; for the guest in mem'ry holds
Through life, the host who treats him as a friend.
Scarce had he spoken, when the golden dawn
Appearing, Menelaus, from the side
Of beauteous Helen ris'n, their bed approach'd,
Whose coming when Telemachus perceived,
Cloathing himself hastily in his vest 70
Magnificent, and o'er his shoulders broad
Casting his graceful mantle, at the door
He met the Hero, whom he thus address'd.
Atrides, Menelaus, Chief renown'd!
Dismiss me hence to Ithaca again,
My native isle, for I desire to go.
Him answer'd Menelaus famed in arms.
Telemachus! I will not long delay
Thy wish'd return. I disapprove alike
The host whose assiduity extreme 80
Distresses, and whose negligence offends;
The middle course is best; alike we err,
Him thrusting forth whose wish is to remain,
And hind'ring the impatient to depart.
This only is true kindness--To regale
The present guest, and speed him when he would.
Yet stay, till thou shalt see my splendid gifts
Placed in thy chariot, and till I command
My women from our present stores to spread
The table with a plentiful repast. 90
For both the honour of the guest demands,
And his convenience also, that he eat
Sufficient, ent'ring on a length of road.
But if through Hellas thou wilt take thy way
And traverse Argos, I will, then, myself
Attend thee; thou shalt journey with my steeds
Beneath thy yoke, and I will be thy guide
To many a city, whence we shall not go
Ungratified, but shall in each receive
Some gift at least, tripod, or charger bright, 100
Or golden chalice, or a pair of mules.
To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.
Atrides, Menelaus, Chief renown'd!
I would at once depart, (for guardian none
Of my possessions have I left behind)
Lest, while I seek my father, I be lost
Myself, or lose what I should grudge to spare.
Which when the valiant Menelaus heard,
He bade his spouse and maidens spread the board
At once with remnants of the last regale. 110
Then Eteoneus came, Boetheus' son
Newly aris'n, for nigh at hand he dwelt,
Whom Menelaus bade kindle the fire
By which to dress their food, and he obey'd.
He next, himself his fragrant chamber sought,
Not sole, but by his spouse and by his son
Attended, Megapenthes. There arrived
Where all his treasures lay, Atrides, first,
Took forth, himself, a goblet, then consign'd
To his son's hand an argent beaker bright. 120
Meantime, beside her coffers Helen stood
Where lay her variegated robes, fair works
Of her own hand. Producing one, in size
And in magnificence the chief, a star
For splendour, and the lowest placed of all,
Loveliest of her sex, she bore it thence.
Then, all proceeding through the house, they sought
Telemachus again, whom reaching, thus
The Hero of the golden locks began.
May Jove the Thunderer, dread Juno's mate, 130
Grant thee, Telemachus! such voyage home
As thy own heart desires! accept from all
My stores selected as the richest far
And noblest gift for finish'd beauty--This.
I give thee wrought elaborate a cup,
Itself all silver, bound with lip of gold.
It is the work of Vulcan, which to me
The Hero Phaedimus imparted, King
Of the Sidonians, when, on my return,
Beneath his roof I lodg'd. I make it thine. 140
So saying, the Hero, Atreus' son, the cup
Placed in his hands, and Megapenthes set
Before him, next, the argent beaker bright;
But lovely Helen drawing nigh, the robe
Presented to him, whom she thus address'd.
I also give thee, oh my son, a gift,
Which seeing, thou shalt think on her whose hands
Wrought it; a present on thy nuptial day
For thy fair spouse; meantime, repose it safe
In thy own mother's keeping. Now, farewell! 150
Prosp'rous and happy be thy voyage home!
She ceas'd, and gave it to him, who the gift
Accepted glad, and in the chariot-chest
Pisistratus the Hero all disposed,
Admiring them the while. They, following, next,
The Hero Menelaus to his hall
Each on his couch or on his throne reposed.
A maiden, then, with golden ewer charged
And silver bowl, pour'd water on their hands,
And spread the polish'd table, which with food 160
Various, selected from her present stores,
The mistress of the household charge supplied.
Boetheus' son stood carver, and to each
His portion gave, while Megapenthes, son
Of glorious Menelaus, serv'd the cup.
Then, all with outstretch'd hands the feast assail'd,
And when nor hunger more nor thirst of wine
They felt, Telemachus and Nestor's son
Yoked the swift steeds, and, taking each his seat
In the resplendent chariot, drove at once 170
Right through the sounding portico abroad.
But Menelaus, Hero amber-hair'd,
A golden cup bearing with richest wine
Replete in his right hand, follow'd them forth,
That not without libation first perform'd
They might depart; he stood before the steeds,
And drinking first, thus, courteous, them bespake.
Health to you both, young friends! and from my lips
Like greeting bear to Nestor, royal Chief,
For he was ever as a father kind 180
To me, while the Achaians warr'd at Troy.
To whom Telemachus discrete replied.
And doubtless, so we will; at our return
We will report to him, illustrious Prince!
Thy ev'ry word. And oh, I would to heav'n
That reaching Ithaca, I might at home
Ulysses hail as sure, as I shall hence
Depart, with all benevolence by thee
Treated, and rich in many a noble gift.
While thus he spake, on his right hand appear'd 190
An eagle; in his talons pounced he bore
A white-plumed goose domestic, newly ta'en
From the house-court. Ran females all and males
Clamorous after him; but he the steeds
Approaching on the right, sprang into air.
That sight rejoicing and with hearts reviv'd
They view'd, and thus Pisistratus his speech
Amid them all to Menelaus turn'd.
Now, Menelaus, think, illustrious Chief!
If us, this omen, or thyself regard. 200
While warlike Menelaus musing stood
What answer fit to frame, Helen meantime,
His spouse long-stoled preventing him, began.
Hear me; for I will answer as the Gods
Teach me, and as I think shall come to pass.
As he, descending from his place of birth
The mountains, caught our pamper'd goose away,
So shall Ulysses, after many woes
And wand'rings to his home restored, avenge
His wrongs, or even now is at his home 210
For all those suitors sowing seeds of woe.
To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.
Oh grant it Jove, Juno's high-thund'ring mate!
So will I, there arrived, with vow and pray'r
Thee worship, as thou wert, thyself, divine.
He said, and lash'd the coursers; fiery they
And fleet, sprang through the city to the plain.
All day the yoke on either side they shook,
Journeying swift; and now the setting sun
To gloomy evening had resign'd the roads, 220
When they to Pherae came, and in the house
Of good Diocles slept, their lib'ral host,
Whose sire Orsilochus from Alpheus sprang.
But when Aurora, daughter of the Dawn,
Look'd rosy from the East, yoking their steeds,
They in the sumptuous chariot sat again.
Forth through the vestibule they drove, and through
The sounding portico, when Nestor's son
Plied brisk the scourge, and willing flew the steeds.
Thus whirl'd along, soon they approach'd the gates 230
Of Pylus, when Telemachus, his speech
Turning to his companion, thus began.
How, son of Nestor! shall I win from thee
Not promise only, but performance kind
Of my request? we are not bound alone
To friendship by the friendship of our sires,
But by equality of years, and this
Our journey shall unite us still the more.
Bear me not, I intreat thee, noble friend!
Beyond the ship, but drop me at her side, 240
Lest ancient Nestor, though against my will,
Detain me in his palace through desire
To feast me, for I dread the least delay.
He spake; then mused Pisistratus how best
He might effect the wishes of his friend,
And thus at length resolved; turning his steeds
With sudden deviation to the shore
He sought the bark, and placing in the stern
Both gold and raiment, the illustrious gifts
Of Menelaus, thus, in accents wing'd 250
With ardour, urged Telemachus away.
Dispatch, embark, summon thy crew on board,
Ere my arrival notice give of thine
To the old King; for vehement I know
His temper, neither will he let thee hence,
But, hasting hither, will himself enforce
Thy longer stay, that thou may'st not depart
Ungifted; nought will fire his anger more.
So saying, he to the Pylian city urged
His steeds bright-maned, and at the palace-gate 260
Arrived of Nestor speedily; meantime
Telemachus exhorted thus his crew.
My gallant friends! set all your tackle, climb
The sable bark, for I would now return.
He spake; they heard him gladly, and at once
All fill'd the benches. While his voyage he
Thus expedited, and beside the stern
To Pallas sacrifice perform'd and pray'd,
A stranger, born remote, who had escaped
From Argos, fugitive for blood, a seer 270
And of Melampus' progeny, approach'd.
Melampus, in old time, in Pylus dwelt,
Mother of flocks, alike for wealth renown'd
And the magnificence of his abode.
He, flying from the far-famed Pylian King,
The mighty Neleus[65], migrated at length
Into another land, whose wealth, the while,
Neleus by force possess'd a year complete.
Meantime, Melampus in the house endured
Of Phylacus imprisonment and woe, 280
And burn'd with wrath for Neleus' daughter sake
By fell Erynnis kindled in his heart.
But, 'scaping death, he drove the lowing beeves
From Phylace to Pylus, well avenged
His num'rous injuries at Neleus' hands
Sustain'd, and gave into his brother's arms
King Neleus' daughter fair, the promis'd bride.
To Argos steed-renown'd he journey'd next,
There destin'd to inhabit and to rule
Multitudes of Achaians. In that land 290
He married, built a palace, and became
Father of two brave sons, Antiphates
And Mantius; to Antiphates was born
The brave Oicleus; from Oicleus sprang
Amphiaraus, demagogue renown'd,
Whom with all tenderness, and as a friend
Alike the Thund'rer and Apollo prized;
Yet reach'd he not the bounds of hoary age.
But by his mercenary consort's arts[66]
Persuaded, met his destiny at Thebes. 300
He 'gat Alcmaeon and Amphilocus.
Mantius was also father of two sons,
Clytus and Polyphides. Clytus pass'd
From earth to heav'n, and dwells among the Gods,
Stol'n by Aurora for his beauty's sake.
But (brave Amphiaraus once deceased)
Phoebus exalted Polyphides far
Above all others in the prophet's part.
He, anger'd by his father, roam'd away
To Hyperesia, where he dwelt renown'd 310
Throughout all lands the oracle of all.
His son, named Theoclymenus, was he
Who now approach'd; he found Telemachus
Libation off'ring in his bark, and pray'r,
And in wing'd accents ardent him address'd.
Ah, friend! since sacrificing in this place
I find thee, by these sacred rites and those
Whom thou ador'st, and by thy own dear life,
And by the lives of these thy mariners
I beg true answer; hide not what I ask. 320
Who art thou? whence? where born? and sprung from whom?
To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.
I will inform thee, stranger! and will solve
Thy questions with much truth. I am by birth
Ithacan, and Ulysses was my sire.
But he hath perish'd by a woeful death,
And I, believing it, with these have plow'd
The ocean hither, int'rested to learn
A father's fate long absent from his home.
Then answer'd godlike Theoclymenus. 330
I also am a wand'rer, having slain
A man of my own tribe; brethren and friends
Num'rous had he in Argos steed-renown'd,
And pow'rful are the Achaians dwelling there.
From them, through terrour of impending death,
I fly, a banish'd man henceforth for ever.
Ah save a suppliant fugitive! lest death
O'ertake me, for I doubt not their pursuit.
Whom thus Telemachus answer'd discrete.
I shall not, be assured, since thou desir'st 340
To join me, chace thee from my bark away.
Follow me, therefore, and with us partake,
In Ithaca, what best the land affords.
So saying, he at the stranger's hand received
His spear, which on the deck he lay'd, then climb'd
Himself the bark, and, seated in the stern,
At his own side placed Theoclymenus.
They cast the hawsers loose; then with loud voice
Telemachus exhorted all to hand
The tackle, whom the sailors prompt obey'd. 350
The tall mast heaving, in its socket deep
They lodg'd it, and its cordage braced secure,
Then, straining at the halyards, hoised the sail.
Fair wind, and blowing fresh through aether pure
Minerva sent them, that the bark might run
Her nimblest course through all the briny way.
Now sank the sun, and dusky ev'ning dimm'd
The waves, when, driven by propitious Jove,
His bark stood right for Pherae; thence she stretch'd
To sacred Elis where the Epeans rule, 360
And through the sharp Echinades he next
Steer'd her, uncertain whether fate ordain'd
His life or death, surprizal or escape.
Meantime Ulysses and the swine-herd ate
Their cottage-mess, and the assistant swains
Theirs also; and when hunger now and thirst
Had ceased in all, Ulysses thus began,
Proving the swine-herd, whether friendly still,
And anxious for his good, he would intreat
His stay, or thence hasten him to the town. 370
Eumaeus, and all ye his servants, hear!
It is my purpose, lest I wear thee out,
Thee and thy friends, to seek at early dawn
The city, there to beg--But give me first
Needful instructions, and a trusty guide
Who may conduct me thither; there my task
Must be to roam the streets; some hand humane
Perchance shall give me a small pittance there,
A little bread, and a few drops to drink.
Ulysses' palace I shall also seek, 380
And to discrete Penelope report
My tidings; neither shall I fail to mix
With those imperious suitors, who, themselves
Full-fed, may spare perhaps some boon to me.
Me shall they find, in whatsoe'er they wish
Their ready servitor, for (understand
And mark me well) the herald of the skies,
Hermes, from whom all actions of mankind
Their grace receive and polish, is my friend,
So that in menial offices I fear 390
No rival, whether I be called to heap
The hearth with fuel, or dry wood to cleave,
To roast, to carve, or to distribute wine,
As oft the poor are wont who serve the great.
To whom, Eumaeus! at those words displeased,
Thou didst reply. Gods! how could such a thought
Possess thee, stranger? surely thy resolve
Is altogether fixt to perish there,
If thou indeed hast purposed with that throng
To mix, whose riot and outrageous acts 400
Of violence echo through the vault of heav'n.
None, such as thou, serve _them_; their servitors
Are youths well-cloak'd, well-vested; sleek their heads,
And smug their countenances; such alone
Are their attendants, and the polish'd boards
Groan overcharg'd with bread, with flesh, with wine.
Rest here content; for neither me nor these
Thou weariest aught, and when Ulysses' son
Shall come, he will with vest and mantle fair
Cloath thee, and send thee whither most thou would'st. 410
To whom Ulysses, toil-inured.
I wish thee, O Eumaeus! dear to Jove
As thou art dear to me, for this reprieve
Vouchsafed me kind, from wand'ring and from woe!
No worse condition is of mortal man
Than his who wanders; for the poor man, driv'n
By woe and by misfortune homeless forth,
A thousand mis'ries, day by day, endures.
Since thou detain'st me, then, and bidd'st me wait
His coming, tell me if the father still 420
Of famed Ulysses live, whom, going hence,
He left so nearly on the verge of life?
And lives his mother? or have both deceased
Already, and descended to the shades?
To whom the master swine-herd thus replied.
I will inform thee, and with strictest truth,
Of all that thou hast ask'd. Laertes lives,
But supplication off'ring to the Gods
Ceaseless, to free him from a weary life,
So deeply his long-absent son he mourns, 430
And the dear consort of his early youth,
Whose death is his chief sorrow, and hath brought
Old age on him, or ere its date arrived.
She died of sorrow for her glorious son,
And died deplorably;[67] may never friend
Of mine, or benefactor die as she!
While yet she liv'd, dejected as she was,
I found it yet some solace to converse
With her, who rear'd me in my childish days,
Together with her lovely youngest-born 440
The Princess Ctimena; for side by side
We grew, and I, scarce honour'd less than she.
But soon as our delightful prime we both
Attain'd, to Samos her they sent, a bride,
And were requited with rich dow'r; but me
Cloath'd handsomely with tunic and with vest,
And with fair sandals furnish'd, to the field
She order'd forth, yet loved me still the more.
I miss her kindness now; but gracious heav'n
Prospers the work on which I here attend; 450
Hence have I food, and hence I drink, and hence
Refresh, sometimes, a worthy guest like thee.
But kindness none experience I, or can,
From fair Penelope (my mistress now)
In word or action, so is the house curs'd
With that lewd throng. Glad would the servants be
Might they approach their mistress, and receive
Advice from her; glad too to eat and drink,
And somewhat bear each to his rural home,
For perquisites are ev'ry servant's joy. 460
Then answer thus, Ulysses wise return'd.
Alas! good swain, Eumaeus, how remote
From friends and country wast thou forced to roam
Ev'n in thy infancy! But tell me true.
The city where thy parents dwelt, did foes
Pillage it? or did else some hostile band
Surprizing thee alone, on herd or flock
Attendant, bear thee with them o'er the Deep,
And sell thee at this Hero's house, who pay'd
Doubtless for _thee_ no sordid price or small? 470
To whom the master swine-herd in reply.
Stranger! since thou art curious to be told
My story, silent listen, and thy wine
At leisure quaff. The nights are longest now,
And such as time for sleep afford, and time
For pleasant conf'rence; neither were it good
That thou should'st to thy couch before thy hour,
Since even sleep is hurtful, in excess.
Whoever here is weary, and desires
Early repose, let him depart to rest, 480
And, at the peep of day, when he hath fed
Sufficiently, drive forth my master's herd;
But we with wine and a well-furnish'd board
Supplied, will solace mutually derive
From recollection of our sufferings past;
For who hath much endured, and wander'd far,
Finds the recital ev'n of sorrow sweet.
Now hear thy question satisfied; attend!
There is an island (thou hast heard, perchance,
Of such an isle) named Syria;[68] it is placed 490
Above Ortigia, and a dial owns[69]
True to the tropic changes of the year.
No great extent she boasts, yet is she rich
In cattle and in flocks, in wheat and wine.
No famine knows that people, or disease
Noisome, of all that elsewhere seize the race
Of miserable man; but when old age
Steals on the citizens, Apollo, arm'd
With silver bow and bright Diana come,
Whose gentle shafts dismiss them soon to rest. 500
Two cities share between them all the isle,
And both were subject to my father's sway
Ctesius Ormenides, a godlike Chief.
It chanced that from Phoenicia, famed for skill
In arts marine, a vessel thither came
By sharpers mann'd, and laden deep with toys.
Now, in my father's family abode
A fair Phoenician, tall, full-sized, and skill'd
In works of elegance, whom they beguiled.
While she wash'd linen on the beach, beside 510
The ship, a certain mariner of those
Seduced her; for all women, ev'n the wise
And sober, feeble prove by love assail'd.
Who was she, he enquired, and whence? nor she
Scrupled to tell at once her father's home.
I am of Sidon,[70] famous for her works
In brass and steel; daughter of Arybas,
Who rolls in affluence; Taphian pirates thence
Stole me returning from the field, from whom
This Chief procured me at no little cost. 520
Then answer thus her paramour return'd.
Wilt thou not hence to Sidon in our ship,
That thou may'st once more visit the abode
Of thy own wealthy parents, and themselves?
For still they live, and still are wealthy deem'd.
To whom the woman. Even that might be,
Would ye, ye seamen, by a solemn oath
Assure me of a safe conveyance home.
Then sware the mariners as she required,
And, when their oath was ended, thus again 530
The woman of Phoenicia them bespake.
Now, silence! no man, henceforth, of you all
Accost me, though he meet me on the road,
Or at yon fountain; lest some tattler run
With tidings home to my old master's ear,
Who, with suspicion touch'd, may _me_ confine
In cruel bonds, and death contrive for _you_.
But be ye close; purchase your stores in haste;
And when your vessel shall be freighted full,
Quick send me notice, for I mean to bring 540
What gold soever opportune I find,
And will my passage cheerfully defray
With still another moveable. I nurse
The good man's son, an urchin shrewd, of age
To scamper at my side; him will I bring,
Whom at some foreign market ye shall prove
Saleable at what price soe'er ye will.
So saying, she to my father's house return'd.
They, there abiding the whole year, their ship
With purchased goods freighted of ev'ry kind, 550
And when, her lading now complete, she lay
For sea prepared, their messenger arrived
To summon down the woman to the shore.
A mariner of theirs, subtle and shrewd,
Then, ent'ring at my father's gate, produced
A splendid collar, gold with amber strung.
My mother (then at home) with all her maids
Handling and gazing on it with delight,
Proposed to purchase it, and he the nod
Significant, gave unobserv'd, the while, 560
To the Phoenician woman, and return'd.
She, thus informed, leading me by the hand
Went forth, and finding in the vestibule
The cups and tables which my father's guests
Had used, (but they were to the forum gone
For converse with their friends assembled there)
Convey'd three cups into her bosom-folds,
And bore them off, whom I a thoughtless child
Accompanied, at the decline of day,
When dusky evening had embrown'd the shore. 570
We, stepping nimbly on, soon reach'd the port
Renown'd, where that Phoenician vessel lay.
They shipp'd us both, and all embarking cleav'd
Their liquid road, by favourable gales,
Jove's gift, impell'd. Six days we day and night
Continual sailed, but when Saturnian Jove
Now bade the sev'nth bright morn illume the skies,
Then, shaft-arm'd Dian struck the woman dead.
At once she pitch'd headlong into the bilge
Like a sea-coot, whence heaving her again, 580
The seamen gave her to be fishes' food,
And I survived to mourn her. But the winds
And rolling billows them bore to the coast
Of Ithaca, where with his proper goods
Laertes bought me. By such means it chanced
That e'er I saw the isle in which I dwell.
To whom Ulysses, glorious Chief, replied.
Eumaeus! thou hast moved me much, thy woes
Enumerating thus at large. But Jove
Hath neighbour'd all thy evil with this good, 590
That after num'rous sorrows thou hast reach'd
The house of a kind master, at whose hands
Thy sustenance is sure, and here thou lead'st
A tranquil life; but I have late arrived,
City after city of the world explored.
Thus mutual they conferr'd, nor leisure found
Save for short sleep, by morning soon surprized.
Meantime the comrades of Telemachus
Approaching land, cast loose the sail, and lower'd
Alert the mast, then oar'd the vessel in. 600
The anchors heav'd aground,[71] and hawsers tied
Secure, themselves, forth-issuing on the shore,
Breakfast prepared, and charged their cups with wine.
When neither hunger now, nor thirst remained
Unsatisfied, Telemachus began.
Push ye the sable bark without delay
Home to the city. I will to the field
Among my shepherds, and, (my rural works
Survey'd,) at eve will to the town return.