"While yet I speak, the shade disdains to stay, In silence turns, and sullen stalks away.

"Touch'd at his sour retreat, through deepest night, Through hell's black bounds I had pursued his flight, And forced the stubborn spectre to reply; But wondrous visions drew my curious eye. High on a throne, tremendous to behold, Stern Minos waves a mace of burnish'd gold; Around ten thousand thousand spectres stand Through the wide dome of Dis, a trembling band Still as they plead, the fatal lots he rolls, Absolves the just, and dooms the guilty souls.

"The huge Orion, of portentous size, Swift through the gloom a giant-hunter flies: A ponderous mace of brass with direful sway Aloft he whirls, to crush the savage prey! Stern beasts in trains that by his truncheon fell, Now grisly forms, shoot o'er the lawns of hell.

"There Tityus large and long, in fetters bound, O'erspreads nine acres of infernal ground; Two ravenous vultures, furious for their food, Scream o'er the fiend, and riot in his blood, Incessant gore the liver in his breast, The immortal liver grows, and gives the immortal feast. For as o'er Panope's enamell'd plains Latona journey'd to the Pythian fanes, With haughty love the audacious monster strove To force the goddess, and to rival Jove.

"There Tantalus along the Stygian bounds Pours out deep groans (with groans all hell resounds); E'en in the circling floods refreshment craves, And pines with thirst amidst a sea of waves; When to the water he his lip applies, Back from his lip the treacherous water flies. Above, beneath, around his hapless head, Trees of all kinds delicious fruitage spread; There figs, sky-dyed, a purple hue disclose, Green looks the olive, the pomegranate glows. There dangling pears exalting scents unfold. And yellow apples ripen into gold; The fruit he strives to seize; but blasts arise, Toss it on high, and whirl it to the skies.

"I turn'd my eye, and as I turn'd survey'd A mournful vision! the Sisyphian shade; With many a weary step, and many a groan, Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone; The huge round stone, resulting with a bound, Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground. Again the restless orb his toil renews, Dust mounts in clouds, and sweat descends in dews.

"Now I the strength of Hercules behold, A towering spectre of gigantic mould, A shadowy form! for high in heaven's abodes Himself resides, a god among the gods; There in the bright assemblies of the skies. He nectar quaffs, and Hebe crowns his joys. Here hovering ghosts, like fowl, his shade surround, And clang their pinions with terrific sound; Gloomy as night he stands, in act to throw The aerial arrow from the twanging bow. Around his breast a wondrous zone is roll'd, Where woodland monsters grin in fretted gold; There sullen lions sternly seem to roar, The bear to growl to foam the tusky boar; There war and havoc and destruction stood, And vengeful murder red with human blood. Thus terribly adorned the figures shine, Inimitably wrought with skill divine. The mighty good advanced with awful look, And, turning his grim visage, sternly spoke:

"'O exercise in grief! by arts refined; O taught to bear the wrongs of base mankind! Such, such was I! Still toss'd from care to care, While in your world I drew the vital air! E'en I, who from the Lord of Thunders rose, Bore toils and dangers, and a weight of woes; To a base monarch still a slave confined, (The hardest bondage to a generous mind!) Down to these worlds I trod the dismal way, And dragg'd the three-mouth'd dog to upper day E'en hell I conquer'd, through the friendly aid Of Maia's offspring, and the martial maid.

"Thus he, nor deign'd for our reply to stay, But, turning, stalk'd with giant-strides away.

"Curious to view the kings of ancient days, The mighty dead that live in endless praise, Resolved I stand; and haply had survey'd The godlike Theseus, and Pirithous' shade; But swarms of spectres rose from deepest hell, With bloodless visage, and with hideous yell. They scream, they shriek; and groans and dismal sounds Stun my scared ears, and pierce hell's utmost bounds. No more my heart the dismal din sustains, And my cold blood hangs shivering in my veins; Lest Gorgon, rising from the infernal lakes, With horrors arm'd, and curls of hissing snakes, Should fix me stiffen'd at the monstrous sight, A stony image, in eternal night! Straight from the direful coast to purer air I speed my flight, and to my mates repair. My mates ascend the ship; they strike their oars; The mountains lessen, and retreat the shores; Swift o'er the waves we fly; the freshening gales Sing through the shrouds, and stretch the swelling sails."



BOOK XII

ARGUMENT.

THE SIRENE, SCYLLA, AND CHARYBDIS.

He relates how, after his return from the shades, he was sent by Circe on his voyage, by the coast of the Sirens, and by the strait of Scylla and Charybdis: the manner in which he escaped those dangers: how, being cast on the island Trinacria, his companions destroyed the oxen of the Sun: the vengeance that followed; how all perished by shipwreck except himself, who, swimming on the mast of the ship, arrived on the island of Calypso. With which his narration concludes.



"Thus o'er the rolling surge the vessel flies, Till from the waves the AEaean hills arise. Here the gay Morn resides in radiant bowers, Here keeps here revels with the dancing Hours; Here Phoebus, rising in the ethereal way, Through heaven's bright portals pours the beamy day. At once we fix our halsers on the land. At once descend, and press the desert sand: There, worn and wasted, lose our cares in sleep, To the hoarse murmurs of the rolling deep.

"Soon as the morn restored the day, we paid Sepulchral honours to Elpenor's shade. Now by the axe the rushing forest bends, And the huge pile along the shore ascends. Around we stand, a melancholy train, And a loud groan re-echoes from the main. Fierce o'er the pyre, by fanning breezes spread, The hungry flames devour the silent dead. A rising tomb, the silent dead to grace, Fast by the roarings of the main we place; The rising tomb a lofty column bore, And high above it rose the tapering oar.

"Meantime the goddess our return survey'd From the pale ghosts and hell's tremendous shade. Swift she descends: a train of nymphs divine Bear the rich viands and the generous wine: In act to speak the power of magic stands, And graceful thus accosts the listening bands;

"'O sons of woe? decreed by adverse fates Alive to pass through hell's eternal gates! All, soon or late, are doom'd that path to tread; More wretched you! twice number'd with the dead! This day adjourn your cares, exalt your souls, Indulge the taste, and drain the sparkling bowls; And when the morn unveils her saffron ray, Spread your broad sails, and plough the liquid way: Lo, I this night, your faithful guide, explain Your woes by land, your dangers on the main.'

"The goddess spoke. In feasts we waste the day, Till Phoebus downward plunged his burning ray; Then sable night ascends, and balmy rest Seals every eye, and calms the troubled breast. Then curious she commands me to relate The dreadful scenes of Pluto's dreary state. She sat in silence while the tale I tell, The wondrous visions and the laws of hell.

"Then thus: 'The lot of man the gods dispose; These ills are past: now hear thy future woes O prince attend; some favouring power be kind, And print the important story on thy mind!

"'Next, where the Sirens dwells, you plough the seas; Their song is death, and makes destruction please. Unblest the man, whom music wins to stay Nigh the cursed shore and listen to the lay. No more that wretch shall view the joys of life His blooming offspring, or his beauteous wife! In verdant meads they sport; and wide around Lie human bones that whiten all the ground: The ground polluted floats with human gore, And human carnage taints the dreadful shore Fly swift the dangerous coast: let every ear Be stopp'd against the song! 'tis death to hear! Firm to the mast with chains thyself be bound, Nor trust thy virtue to the enchanting sound. If, mad with transport, freedom thou demand, Be every fetter strain'd, and added band to band.

"'These seas o'erpass'd, be wise! but I refrain To mark distinct thy voyage o'er the main: New horrors rise! let prudence be thy guide, And guard thy various passage through the tide.

"'High o'er the main two rocks exalt their brow,' The boiling billows thundering roll below; Through the vast waves the dreadful wonders move, Hence named Erratic by the gods above. No bird of air, no dove of swiftest wing, That bears ambrosia to the ethereal king, Shuns the dire rocks: in vain she cuts the skies; The dire rocks meet, and crush her as she flies: Not the fleet bark, when prosperous breezes play, Ploughs o'er that roaring surge its desperate way; O'erwhelm'd it sinks: while round a smoke expires, And the waves flashing seem to burn with fires. Scarce the famed Argo pass'd these raging floods, The sacred Argo, fill'd with demigods! E'en she had sunk, but Jove's imperial bride Wing'd her fleet sail, and push'd her o'er the tide.

"'High in the air the rock its summit shrouds In brooding tempests, and in rolling clouds; Loud storms around, and mists eternal rise, Beat its bleak brow, and intercept the skies. When all the broad expansion, bright with day, Glows with the autumnal or the summer ray, The summer and the autumn glow in vain, The sky for ever lowers, for ever clouds remain. Impervious to the step of man it stands, Though borne by twenty feet, though arm'd with twenty hands; Smooth as the polish of the mirror rise The slippery sides, and shoot into the skies. Full in the centre of this rock display'd, A yawning cavern casts a dreadful shade: Nor the fleet arrow from the twanging bow, Sent with full force, could reach the depth below. Wide to the west the horrid gulf extends, And the dire passage down to hell descends. O fly the dreadful sight! expand thy sails, Ply the strong oar, and catch the nimble gales; Here Scylla bellows from the dire abodes, Tremendous pest, abhorr'd by man and gods! Hideous her voice, and with less terrors roar The whelps of lions in the midnight hour. Twelve feet, deform'd and foul, the fiend dispreads; Six horrid necks she rears, and six terrific heads; Her jaws grin dreadful with three rows of teeth; Jaggy they stand, the gaping den of death; Her parts obscene the raging billows hide; Her bosom terribly o'erlooks the tide. When stung with hunger she embroils the flood, The sea-dog and the dolphin are her food; She makes the huge leviathan her prey, And all the monsters of the watery way; The swiftest racer of the azure plain Here fills her sails, and spreads her oars in vain; Fell Scylla rises, in her fury roars, At once six mouths expands, at once six men devours.

"'Close by, a rock of less enormous height Breaks the wild waves, and forms a dangerous strait; Full on its crown a fig's green branches rise, And shoot a leafy forest to the skies; Beneath, Charybdis holds her boisterous reign 'Midst roaring whirlpools, and absorbs the main; Thrice in her gulfs the boiling seas subside, Thrice in dire thunders she refunds the tide. Oh, if thy vessel plough the direful waves, When seas retreating roar within her caves, Ye perish all! though he who rules the main Lends his strong aid, his aid he lends in vain. Ah, shun the horrid gulf! by Scylla fly. 'Tis better six to lose, than all to die.'

"I then: 'O nymph propitious to my prayer, Goddess divine, my guardian power, declare, Is the foul fiend from human vengeance freed? Or, if I rise in arms, can Scylla bleed?'

"Then she: 'O worn by toils, O broke in fight, Still are new toils and war thy dire delight? Will martial flames for ever fire thy mind, And never, never be to Heaven resign'd? How vain thy efforts to avenge the wrong! Deathless the pest! impenetrably strong! Furious and fell, tremendous to behold! E'en with a look she withers all the bold! She mocks the weak attempts of human might; Oh, fly her rage! thy conquest is thy flight. If but to seize thy arms thou make delay, Again thy fury vindicates her prey; Her six mouths yawn, and six are snatch'd away. From her foul wound Crataeis gave to air This dreadful pest! To her direct thy prayer, To curb the monster in her dire abodes, And guard thee through the tumult of the floods. Thence to Trinacria's shore you bend your way, Where graze thy herds, illustrious source of day! Seven herds, seven flocks enrich the sacred plains, Each herd, each flock full fifty heads contains; The wondrous kind a length of age survey, By breed increase not, nor by death decay. Two sister goddesses possess the plain, The constant guardian of the woolly train; Lampetie fair, and Phaethusa young, From Phoebus and the bright Neaea sprung; Here, watchful o'er the flocks, in shady bowers And flowery meads, they waste the joyous hours. Rob not the gods! and so propitious gales Attend thy voyage, and impel thy sails; But if thy impious hands the flocks destroy, The gods, the gods avenge it, and ye die! 'Tis thine alone (thy friends and navy lost) Through tedious toils to view thy native coast.'

She ceased: and now arose the morning ray; Swift to her dome the goddess held her way. Then to my mates I measured back the plain, Climb'd the tall bark, and rush'd into the main; Then, bending to the stroke, their oars they drew To their broad breasts, and swift the galley flew. Up sprung a brisker breeze; with freshening gales The friendly goddess stretch'd the swelling sails; We drop our oars; at ease the pilot guides; The vessel light along the level glides. When, rising sad and slow, with pensive look, Thus to the melancholy train I spoke:

"'O friends, oh ever partners of my woes, Attend while I what Heaven foredooms disclose. Hear all! Fate hangs o'er all; on you it lies To live or perish! to be safe, be wise!

"'In flowery meads the sportive Sirens play, Touch the soft lyre, and tune the vocal lay; Me, me alone, with fetters firmly bound, The gods allow to hear the dangerous sound. Hear and obey; if freedom I demand, Be every fetter strain'd, be added band to band.'

"While yet I speak the winged galley flies, And lo! the Siren shores like mists arise. Sunk were at once the winds; the air above, And waves below, at once forgot to move; Some demon calm'd the air and smooth'd the deep, Hush'd the loud winds, and charm'd the waves to sleep. Now every sail we furl, each oar we ply; Lash'd by the stroke, the frothy waters fly. The ductile wax with busy hands I mould, And cleft in fragments, and the fragments roll'd; The aerial region now grew warm with day, The wax dissolved beneath the burning ray; Then every ear I barr'd against the strain, And from access of frenzy lock'd the brain. Now round the masts my mates the fetters roll'd, And bound me limb by limb with fold on fold. Then bending to the stroke, the active train Plunge all at once their oars, and cleave the main.

"While to the shore the rapid vessel flies, Our swift approach the Siren choir descries; Celestial music warbles from their tongue, And thus the sweet deluders tune the song:

"'Oh stay, O pride of Greece! Ulysses, stay! Oh cease thy course, and listen to our lay! Blest is the man ordain'd our voice to hear, The song instructs the soul, and charms the ear. Approach! thy soul shall into raptures rise! Approach! and learn new wisdom from the wise! We know whate'er the kings of mighty name Achieved at Ilion in the field of fame; Whate'er beneath the sun's bright journey lies. Oh stay, and learn new wisdom from the wise!'

"Thus the sweet charmers warbled o'er the main; My soul takes wing to meet the heavenly strain; I give the sign, and struggle to be free; Swift row my mates, and shoot along the sea; New chains they add, and rapid urge the way, Till, dying off, the distant sounds decay; Then scudding swiftly from the dangerous ground, The deafen'd ear unlock'd, the chains unbound.

"Now all at once tremendous scenes unfold; Thunder'd the deeps, the smoky billows roll'd! Tumultuous waves embroil the bellowing flood, All trembling, deafen'd, and aghast we stood! No more the vessel plough'd the dreadful wave, Fear seized the mighty, and unnerved the brave; Each dropp'd his oar; but swift from man to man With looks serene I turn'd, and thus began: 'O friends! O often tried in adverse storms! With ills familiar in more dreadful forms! Deep in the dire Cyclopean den you lay, Yet safe return'd—Ulysses led the way. Learn courage hence, and in my care confide; Lo! still the same Ulysses is your guide. Attend my words! your oars incessant ply; Strain every nerve, and bid the vessel fly. If from yon jostling rocks and wavy war Jove safety grants, he grants it to your care. And thou, whose guiding hand directs our way, Pilot, attentive listen and obey! Bear wide thy course, nor plough those angry waves Where rolls yon smoke, yon tumbling ocean raves; Steer by the higher rock; lest whirl'd around We sink, beneath the circling eddy drown'd.' While yet I speak, at once their oars they seize, Stretch to the stroke, and brush the working seas. Cautious the name of Scylla I suppress'd; That dreadful sound had chill'd the boldest breast.

"Meantime, forgetful of the voice divine, All dreadful bright my limbs in armour shine; High on the deck I take my dangerous stand, Two glittering javelins lighten in my hand; Prepared to whirl the whizzing spear I stay, Till the fell fiend arise to seize her prey. Around the dungeon, studious to behold The hideous pest, my labouring eyes I roll'd; In vain! the dismal dungeon, dark as night, Veils the dire monster, and confounds the sight.

"Now through the rocks, appall'd with deep dismay, We bend our course, and stem the desperate way; Dire Scylla there a scene of horror forms, And here Charybdis fills the deep with storms. When the tide rushes from her rumbling caves, The rough rock roars, tumultuous boil the waves; They toss, they foam, a wild confusion raise, Like waters bubbling o'er the fiery blaze; Eternal mists obscure the aerial plain, And high above the rock she spouts the main; When in her gulfs the rushing sea subsides, She drains the ocean with the refluent tides; The rock re-bellows with a thundering sound; Deep, wondrous deep, below appears the ground.

"Struck with despair, with trembling hearts we view'd The yawning dungeon, and the tumbling flood; When lo! fierce Scylla stoop'd to seize her prey, Stretch'd her dire jaws, and swept six men away. Chiefs of renown! loud-echoing shrieks arise; I turn, and view them quivering in the skies; They call, and aid with outstretch'd arms implore; In vain they call! those arms are stretch'd no more. As from some rock that overhangs the flood The silent fisher casts the insidious food, With fraudful care he waits the finny prize, And sudden lifts it quivering to the skies: So the foul monster lifts her prey on high, So pant the wretches struggling in the sky; In the wide dungeon she devours her food, And the flesh trembles while she churns the blood. Worn as I am with griefs, with care decay'd, Never, I never scene so dire survey'd! My shivering blood, congeal'd, forgot to flow; Aghast I stood, a monument of woe!

"Now from the rocks the rapid vessel flies, And the hoarse din like distant thunder dies; To Sol's bright isle our voyage we pursue, And now the glittering mountains rise to view. There, sacred to the radiant god of day, Graze the fair herds, the flocks promiscuous stray: Then suddenly was heard along the main To low the ox, to blest the woolly train. Straight to my anxious thoughts the sound convey'd The words of Circe and the Theban shade; Warn'd by their awful voice these shores to shun, With cautious fears oppress'd I thus begun:

"'O friends! O ever exorcised in care! Hear Heaven's commands, and reverence what ye hear! To fly these shores the prescient Theban shade And Circe warn! Oh be their voice obey'd Some mighty woe relentless Heaven forebodes: Fly these dire regions, and revere the gods!'

"While yet I spoke, a sudden sorrow ran Through every breast, and spread from man to man, Till wrathful thus Eurylochus began:

"'O cruel thou! some Fury sure has steel'd That stubborn soul, by toil untaught to yield! From sleep debarr'd, we sink from woes to woes: And cruel' enviest thou a short repose? Still must we restless rove, new seas explore, The sun descending, and so near the shore? And lo! the night begins her groomy reign, And doubles all the terrors of the main: Oft in the dead of night loud winds rise, Lash the wild surge, and bluster in the skies. Oh, should the fierce south-west his rage display, And toss with rising storms the watery way, Though gods descend from heaven's aerial plain To lend us aid, the gods descend in vain. Then while the night displays her awful shade, Sweet time of slumber! be the night obey' Haste ye to land! and when the morning ray Sheds her bright beam, pursue the destined way.' A sudden joy in every bosom rose: So will'd some demon, minister of woes!

"To whom with grief: 'O swift to be undone! Constrain'd I act what wisdom bids me shun. But yonder herbs and yonder flocks forbear; Attest the heavens, and call the gods to hear: Content, an innocent repast display, By Circe given, and fly the dangerous prey.'

'Thus I: and while to shore the vessel flies, With hands uplifted they attest the skies: Then, where a fountain's gurgling waters play, They rush to land, and end in feasts the day: They feed; they quaff; and now (their hunger fled) Sigh for their friends devour'd, and mourn the dead; Nor cease the tears' till each in slumber shares A sweet forgetfulness of human cares. Now far the night advanced her gloomy reign, And setting stars roll'd down the azure plain: When at the voice of Jove wild whirlwinds rise, And clouds and double darkness veil the skies; The moon, the stars, the bright ethereal host Seem as extinct, and all their splendours lost: The furious tempest roars with dreadful sound: Air thunders, rolls the ocean, groans the ground. All night it raged: when morning rose to land We haul'd our bark, and moor'd it on the strand, Where in a beauteous grotto's cool recess Dance the green Nerolds of the neighbouring seas.

"There while the wild winds whistled o'er the main, Thus careful I address'd the listening train:

"'O friends, be wise! nor dare the flocks destroy Of these fair pastures: if ye touch, ye die. Warn'd by the high command of Heaven, be awed: Holy the flocks, and dreadful is the god! That god who spreads the radiant beams of light, And views wide earth and heaven's unmeasured height.'

"And now the moon had run her monthly round, The south-east blustering with a dreadful sound: Unhurt the beeves, untouch'd the woolly train, Low through the grove, or touch the flowery plain: Then fail'd our food: then fish we make our prey, Or fowl that screaming haunt the watery way. Till now from sea or flood no succour found, Famine and meagre want besieged us round. Pensive and pale from grove to grove I stray'd, From the loud storms to find a sylvan shade; There o'er my hands the living wave I pour; And Heaven and Heaven's immortal thrones implore, To calm the roarings of the stormy main, And guide me peaceful to my realms again. Then o'er my eyes the gods soft slumbers shed, While thus Eurylochus arising said:

"'O friends, a thousand ways frail mortals lead To the cold tomb, and dreadful all to tread; But dreadful most, when by a slow decay Pale hunger wastes the manly strength away. Why cease ye then to implore the powers above, And offer hecatombs to thundering Jove? Why seize ye not yon beeves, and fleecy prey? Arise unanimous; arise and slay! And if the gods ordain a safe return, To Phoebus shrines shall rise, and altars burn. But should the powers that o'er mankind preside Decree to plunge us in the whelming tide, Better to rush at once to shades below Than linger life away, and nourish woe.'

"Thus he: the beeves around securely stray, When swift to ruin they invade the prey; They seize, they kill!—but for the rite divine. The barley fail'd, and for libations wine. Swift from the oak they strip the shady pride; And verdant leaves the flowery cake supplied.

"With prayer they now address the ethereal train, Slay the selected beeves, and flay the slain; The thighs, with fat involved, divide with art, Strew'd o'er with morsels cut from every part. Water, instead of wine, is brought in urns, And pour'd profanely as the victim burns. The thighs thus offer'd, and the entrails dress'd, They roast the fragments, and prepare the feast.

"'Twas then soft slumber fled my troubled brain; Back to the bark I speed along the main. When lo! an odour from the feast exhales, Spreads o'er the coast and scents the tainted gales; A chilly fear congeal'd my vital blood, And thus, obtesting Heaven, I mourn'd aloud;

"'O sire of men and gods, immortal Jove! O all ye blissful powers that reign above! Why were my cares beguiled in short repose? O fatal slumber, paid with lasting woes! A deed so dreadful all the gods alarms, Vengeance is on the wing, and Heaven in arms!'

"Meantime Lampetie mounts the aerial way, And kindles into rage the god of day;

"'Vengeance, ye powers (he cries), and then whose hand Aims the red bolt, and hurls the writhen brand! Slain are those herds which I with pride survey, When through the ports of heaven I pour the day, Or deep in ocean plunge the burning ray. Vengeance, ye gods! or I the skies forego, And bear the lamp of heaven to shades below.'

"To whom the thundering Power: 'O source of day Whose radiant lamp adorns the azure way, Still may thy beams through heaven's bright portal rise, The joy of earth, the glory of the skies: Lo! my red arm I bare, my thunders guide, To dash the offenders in the whelming tide.'

"To fair Calypso, from the bright abodes, Hermes convey'd these counsels of the gods.

"Meantime from man to man my tongue exclaims, My wrath is kindled, and my soul in flames. In vain! I view perform'd the direful deed, Beeves, slain in heaps, along the ocean bleed.

"Now heaven gave signs of wrath: along the ground Crept the raw hides, and with a bellowing sound Roar'd the dead limbs; the burning entrails groan'd. Six guilty days my wretched mates employ In impious feasting, and unhallowed joy; The seventh arose, and now the sire of gods Rein'd the rough storms; and calm'd the tossing floods: With speed the bark we climb; the spacious sails. Loosed from the yards invite the impelling gales. Past sight of shore, along the surge we bound, And all above is sky, and ocean all around; When lo! a murky cloud the thunderer forms Full o'er our heads, and blackens heaven with storms. Night dwells o'er all the deep: and now outflies The gloomy west, and whistles in the skies. The mountain-billows roar! the furious blast Howls o'er the shroud, and rends it from the mast: The mast gives way, and, crackling as it bends, Tears up the deck; then all at once descends: The pilot by the tumbling ruin slain, Dash'd from the helm, falls headlong in the main. Then Jove in anger bids his thunders roll, And forky lightnings flash from pole to pole: Fierce at our heads his deadly bolt he aims, Red with uncommon wrath, and wrapp'd in flames: Full on the bark it fell; now high, now low, Toss'd and retoss'd, it reel'd beneath the blow; At once into the main the crew it shook: Sulphurous odours rose, and smouldering smoke. Like fowl that haunt the floods, they sink, they rise, Now lost, now seen, with shrieks and dreadful cries; And strive to gain the bark, but Jove denies. Firm at the helm I stand, when fierce the main Rush'd with dire noise, and dash'd the sides in twain; Again impetuous drove the furious blast, Snapp'd the strong helm, and bore to sea the mast. Firm to the mast with cords the helm I bind, And ride aloft, to Providence resign'd, Through tumbling billows and a war of wind. "Now sunk the west, and now a southern breeze, More dreadful than the tempest lash'd the seas; For on the rocks it bore where Scylla raves, And dire Charybdis rolls her thundering waves. All night I drove; and at the dawn of day, Fast by the rocks beheld the desperate way; Just when the sea within her gulfs subsides, And in the roaring whirlpools rush the tides, Swift from the float I vaulted with a bound, The lofty fig-tree seized, and clung around; So to the beam the bat tenacious clings, And pendent round it clasps his leather wings. High in the air the tree its boughs display'd, And o'er the dungeon cast a dreadful shade; All unsustain'd between the wave and sky, Beneath my feet the whirling billows fly. What time the judge forsakes the noisy bar To take repast, and stills the wordy war, Charybdis, rumbling from her inmost caves, The mast refunded on her refluent waves. Swift from the tree, the floating mass to gain, Sudden I dropp'd amidst the flashing main; Once more undaunted on the ruin rode, And oar'd with labouring arms along the flood. Unseen I pass'd by Scylla's dire abodes. So Jove decreed (dread sire of men and gods). Then nine long days I plow'd the calmer seas, Heaved by the surge, and wafted by the breeze. Weary and wet the Ogygian shores I gain, When the tenth sun descended to the main. There, in Calypso's ever-fragrant bowers, Refresh'd I lay, and joy beguiled the hours. "My following fates to thee, O king, are known, And the bright partner of thy royal throne. Enough: in misery can words avail? And what so tedious as a twice-told tale?"



BOOK XIII

ARGUMENT.

THE ARRIVAL OF ULYSSES IN ITHACA.

Ulysses takes his leave of Alcinous and Arete, and embarks in the evening. Next morning the ship arrives at Ithaca; where the sailors, as Ulysses is yet sleeping, lay him on the shore with all his treasures. On their return, Neptune changes their ship into a rock. In the meantime Ulysses, awaking, knows not his native Ithaca, by reason of a mist which Pallas had cast around him. He breaks into loud lamentations; till the goddess appearing to him in the form of a shepherd, discovers the country to him, and points out the particular places. He then tells a feigned story of his adventures, upon which she manifests herself, and they consult together of the measures to be taken to destroy the suitors. To conceal his return, and disguise his person the more effectually, she changes him into the figure of an old beggar.



He ceased; but left so pleasing on their ear His voice, that listening still they seem'd to hear. A pause of silence hush'd the shady rooms: The grateful conference then the king resumes:

"Whatever toils the great Ulysses pass'd, Beneath this happy roof they end at last; No longer now from shore to shore to roam, Smooth seas and gentle winds invite him home. But hear me, princes! whom these walls inclose, For whom my chanter sings: and goblet flows With wine unmix'd (an honour due to age, To cheer the grave, and warm the poet's rage); Though labour'd gold and many a dazzling vest Lie heap'd already for our godlike guest; Without new treasures let him not remove, Large, and expressive of the public love: Each peer a tripod, each a vase bestow, A general tribute, which the state shall owe."

This sentence pleased: then all their steps address'd To separate mansions, and retired to rest.

Now did the rosy-finger'd morn arise, And shed her sacred light along the skies. Down to the haven and the ships in haste They bore the treasures, and in safety placed. The king himself the vases ranged with care; Then bade his followers to the feast prepare. A victim ox beneath the sacred hand Of great Alcinous falls, and stains the sand. To Jove the Eternal (power above all powers! Who wings the winds, and darkens heaven with showers) The flames ascend: till evening they prolong The rites, more sacred made by heavenly song; For in the midst, with public honours graced, Thy lyre divine, Demodocus! was placed. All, but Ulysses, heard with fix'd delight; He sate, and eyed the sun, and wish'd the night; Slow seem'd the sun to move, the hours to roll, His native home deep-imaged in his soul. As the tired ploughman, spent with stubborn toil, Whose oxen long have torn the furrow'd soil, Sees with delight the sun's declining ray, When home with feeble knees he bends his way To late repast (the day's hard labour done); So to Ulysses welcome set the sun; Then instant to Alcinous and the rest (The Scherian states) he turn'd, and thus address'd:

"O thou, the first in merit and command! And you the peers and princes of the land! May every joy be yours! nor this the least, When due libation shall have crown'd the feast, Safe to my home to send your happy guest. Complete are now the bounties you have given, Be all those bounties but confirm'd by Heaven! So may I find, when all my wanderings cease, My consort blameless, and my friends in peace. On you be every bliss; and every day, In home-felt joys, delighted roll away; Yourselves, your wives, your long-descending race, May every god enrich with every grace! Sure fix'd on virtue may your nation stand, And public evil never touch the land!"

His words well weigh'd, the general voice approved Benign, and instant his dismission moved, The monarch to Pontonus gave the sign. To fill the goblet high with rosy wine; "Great Jove the Father first (he cried) implore;' Then send the stranger to his native shore."

The luscious wine the obedient herald brought; Around the mansion flow'd the purple draught; Each from his seat to each immortal pours, Whom glory circles in the Olympian bowers Ulysses sole with air majestic stands, The bowl presenting to Arete's hands; Then thus: "O queen, farewell! be still possess'd Of dear remembrance, blessing still and bless'd! Till age and death shall gently call thee hence, (Sure fate of every mortal excellence!) Farewell! and joys successive ever spring To thee, to thine, the people, and the king!"

Thus he: then parting prints the sandy shore To the fair port: a herald march'd before, Sent by Alcinous; of Arete's train Three chosen maids attend him to the main; This does a tunic and white vest convey, A various casket that, of rich inlay, And bread and wine the third. The cheerful mates Safe in the hollow poop dispose the cates; Upon the deck soft painted robes they spread With linen cover'd, for the hero's bed. He climbed the lofty stern; then gently press'd The swelling couch, and lay composed to rest.

Now placed in order, the Phaeacian train Their cables loose, and launch into the main; At once they bend, and strike their equal oars, And leave the sinking hills and lessening shores. While on the deck the chief in silence lies, And pleasing slumbers steal upon his eyes. As fiery coursers in the rapid race Urged by fierce drivers through the dusty space, Toss their high heads, and scour along the plain, So mounts the bounding vessel o'er the main. Back to the stern the parted billows flow, And the black ocean foams and roars below.

Thus with spread sails the winged galley flies; Less swift an eagle cuts the liquid skies; Divine Ulysses was her sacred load, A man, in wisdom equal to a god! Much danger, long and mighty toils he bore, In storms by sea, and combats on the shore; All which soft sleep now banish'd from his breast, Wrapp'd in a pleasing, deep, and death-like rest.

But when the morning-star with early ray Flamed in the front of heaven, and promised day; Like distant clouds the mariner descries Fair Ithaca's emerging hills arise. Far from the town a spacious port appears, Sacred to Phorcys' power, whose name it bears; Two craggy rocks projecting to the main, The roaring wind's tempestuous rage restrain; Within the waves in softer murmurs glide, And ships secure without their halsers ride. High at the head a branching olive grows, And crowns the pointed cliffs with shady boughs. Beneath, a gloomy grotto's cool recess Delights the Nereids of the neighbouring seas, Where bowls and urns were form'd of living stone, And massy beams in native marble shone, On which the labours of the nymphs were roll'd, Their webs divine of purple mix'd with gold. Within the cave the clustering bees attend Their waxen works, or from the roof depend. Perpetual waters o'er the pavement glide; Two marble doors unfold on either side; Sacred the south, by which the gods descend; But mortals enter at the northern end. Thither they bent, and haul'd their ship to land (The crooked keel divides the yellow sand). Ulysses sleeping on his couch they bore, And gently placed him on the rocky shore. His treasures next, Alcinous' gifts, they laid In the wild olive's unfrequented shade, Secure from theft; then launch'd the bark again, Resumed their oars, and measured back the main, Nor yet forgot old Ocean's dread supreme, The vengeance vow'd for eyeless Polypheme. Before the throne of mighty Jove lie stood, And sought the secret counsels of the god.

"Shall then no more, O sire of gods! be mine The rights and honours of a power divine? Scorn'd e'en by man, and (oh severe disgrace!) By soft Phaeacians, my degenerate race! Against yon destined head in vain I swore, And menaced vengeance, ere he reach'd his shore; To reach his natal shore was thy decree; Mild I obey'd, for who shall war with thee? Behold him landed, careless and asleep, From all the eluded dangers of the deep; Lo where he lies, amidst a shining store Of brass, rich garments, and refulgent ore; And bears triumphant to his native isle A prize more worth than Ilion's noble spoil."

To whom the Father of the immortal powers, Who swells the clouds, and gladdens earth with showers, "Can mighty Neptune thus of man complain? Neptune, tremendous o'er the boundless main! Revered and awful e'en in heaven's abodes, Ancient and great! a god above the gods! If that low race offend thy power divine (Weak, daring creatures!) is not vengeance thine? Go, then, the guilty at thy will chastise." He said. The shaker of the earth replies:

"This then, I doom: to fix the gallant ship, A mark of vengeance on the sable deep; To warn the thoughtless, self-confiding train, No more unlicensed thus to brave the main. Full in their port a Shady hill shall rise, If such thy will."—" We will it (Jove replies). E'en when with transport blackening all the strand, The swarming people hail their ship to land, Fix her for ever, a memorial stone: Still let her seem to sail, and seem alone. The trembling crowds shall see the sudden shade Of whelming mountains overhang their head!"

With that the god whose earthquakes rock the ground Fierce to Phaeacia cross'd the vast profound. Swift as a swallow sweeps the liquid way, The winged pinnace shot along the sea. The god arrests her with a sudden stroke, And roots her down an everlasting rock. Aghast the Scherians stand in deep surprise; All press to speak, all question with their eyes. What hands unseen the rapid bark restrain! And yet it swims, or seems to swim, the main! Thus they, unconscious of the deed divine; Till great Alcinous, rising, own'd the sign.

"Behold the long predestined day I (he cries;) O certain faith of ancient prophecies These ears have heard my royal sire disclose A dreadful story, big with future woes; How, moved with wrath, that careless we convey Promiscuous every guest to every bay, Stern Neptune raged; and how by his command Firm rooted in the surge a ship should stand (A monument of wrath); and mound on mound Should hide our walls, or whelm beneath the ground.

"The Fates have follow'd as declared the seer. Be humbled, nations! and your monarch hear. No more unlicensed brave the deeps, no more With every stranger pass from shore to shore; On angry Neptune now for mercy call; To his high name let twelve black oxen fall. So may the god reverse his purposed will, Nor o'er our city hang the dreadful hill."

The monarch spoke: they trembled and obey'd, Forth on the sands the victim oxen led; The gathered tribes before the altars stand, And chiefs and rulers, a majestic band. The king of ocean all the tribes implore; The blazing altars redden all the shore.

Meanwhile Ulysses in his country lay, Released from sleep, and round him might survey The solitary shore and rolling sea. Yet had his mind through tedious absence lost The dear resemblance of his native coast; Besides, Minerva, to secure her care, Diffused around a veil of thickened air; For so the gods ordain'd to keep unseen His royal person from his friends and queen; Till the proud suitors for their crimes afford An ample vengeance to their injured lord.

Now all the land another prospect bore, Another port appear'd, another shore. And long-continued ways, and winding floods, And unknown mountains, crown'd with unknown woods Pensive and slow, with sudden grief oppress'd, The king arose, and beat his careful breast, Cast a long look o'er all the coast and main, And sought, around, his native realm in vain; Then with erected eyes stood fix'd in woe, And as he spoke, the tears began to flow.

"Ye gods (he cried), upon what barren coast, In what new region, is Ulysses toss'd? Possess'd by wild barbarians, fierce in arms? Or men whose bosom tender pity warms? Where shall this treasure now in safely be? And whither, whither its sad owner fly? Ah, why did I Alcinous' grace implore? Ah, why forsake Phaeacia's happy shore? Some juster prince perhaps had entertain'd, And safe restored me to my native land. Is this the promised, long-expected coast, And this the faith Phaeacia's rulers boast? O righteous gods! of all the great, how few Are just to Heaven, and to their promise true! But he, the power to whose all-seeing eyes The deeds of men appear without disguise, 'Tis his alone to avenge the wrongs I bear; For still the oppress'd are his peculiar care. To count these presents, and from thence to prove, Their faith is mine; the rest belongs to Jove."

Then on the sands he ranged his wealthy store, The gold, the vests, the tripods number'd o'er: All these he found, but still in error lost, Disconsolate he wanders on the coast, Sighs for his country, and laments again To the deaf rocks, and hoarse-resounding main. When lo! the guardian goddess of the wise, Celestial Pallas, stood before his eyes; In show a youthful swain, of form divine, Who seem'd descended from some princely line. A graceful robe her slender body dress'd; Around her shoulders flew the waving vest; Her decent hand a shining javelin bore, And painted sandals on her feet she wore. To whom the king: "Whoe'er of human race Thou art, that wanderest in this desert place, With joy to thee, as to some god I bend, To thee my treasures and myself commend. O tell a wretch in exile doom'd to stray, What air I breathe, what country I survey? The fruitful continent's extremest bound, Or some fair isle which Neptune's arms surround?

"From what far clime (said she) remote from fame Arrivest thou here, a stranger to our name? Thou seest an island, not to those unknown Whose hills are brighten'd by the rising sun, Nor those that placed beneath his utmost reign Behold him sinking in the western main. The rugged soil allows no level space For flying chariots, or the rapid race; Yet, not ungrateful to the peasant's pain, Suffices fulness to the swelling grain; The loaded trees their various fruits produce, And clustering grapes afford a generous juice; Woods crown our mountains, and in every grove The bounding goats and frisking heifers rove; Soft rains and kindly dews refresh the field, And rising springs eternal verdure yield. E'en to those shores is Ithaca renown'd, Where Troy's majestic ruins strew the ground."

At this, the chief with transport was possess'd; His panting heart exulted in his breast; Yet, well dissembling his untimely joys, And veiling truth in plausible disguise, Thus, with an air sincere, in fiction bold, His ready tale the inventive hero told:

"Oft have I heard in Crete this island's name; For 'twas from Crete, my native soil, I came, Self-banished thence. I sail'd before the wind, And left my children and my friends behind. From fierce Idomeneus' revenge I flew, Whose son, the swift Orsilochus, I slew (With brutal force he seized my Trojan prey, Due to the toils of many a bloody day). Unseen I 'scaped, and favour'd by the night, In a Phoenician vessel took my flight, For Pyle or Elis bound; but tempests toss'd And raging billows drove us on your coast. In dead of night an unknown port we gain'd; Spent with fatigue, and slept secure on land. But ere the rosy morn renew'd the day, While in the embrace of pleasing sleep I lay, Sudden, invited by auspicious gales, They land my goods, and hoist their flying sails. Abandon'd here, my fortune I deplore A hapless exile on a foreign shore,"

Thus while he spoke, the blue-eyed maid began With pleasing smiles to view the godlike man; Then changed her form: and now, divinely bright, Jove's heavenly daughter stood confess'd to sight; Like a fair virgin in her beauty's bloom, Skill'd in the illustrious labours of the loom.

"O still the same Ulysses! (she rejoin'd,) In useful craft successfully refined! Artful in speech, in action, and in mind! Sufficed it not, that, thy long labours pass'd, Secure thou seest thy native shore at last? But this to me? who, like thyself, excel In arts of counsel and dissembling well; To me? whose wit exceeds the powers divine, No less than mortals are surpass'd by thine. Know'st thou not me; who made thy life my care, Through ten years' wandering, and through ten years' war; Who taught thee arts, Alcinous to persuade, To raise his wonder, and engage his aid; And now appear, thy treasures to protect, Conceal thy person, thy designs direct, And tell what more thou must from Fate expect; Domestic woes far heavier to be borne! The pride of fools, and slaves' insulting scorn? But thou be silent, nor reveal thy state; Yield to the force of unresisted Fate, And bear unmoved the wrongs of base mankind, The last, and hardest, conquest of the mind."

"Goddess of wisdom! (Ithacus replies,) He who discerns thee must be truly wise, So seldom view'd and ever in disguise! When the bold Argives led their warring powers, Against proud Ilion's well-defended towers, Ulysses was thy care, celestial maid! Graced with thy sight, and favoured with thy aid. But when the Trojan piles in ashes lay, And bound for Greece we plough'd the watery way; Our fleet dispersed, and driven from coast to coast, Thy sacred presence from that hour I lost; Till I beheld thy radiant form once more, And heard thy counsels on Phaeacia's shore. But, by the almighty author of thy race, Tell me, oh tell, is this my native place? For much I fear, long tracts of land and sea Divide this coast from distant Ithaca; The sweet delusion kindly you impose, To soothe my hopes, and mitigate my woes."

Thus he. The blue-eyed goddess thus replies; "How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise! Who, versed in fortune, fear the flattering show, And taste not half the bliss the gods bestow. The more shall Pallas aid thy just desires, And guard the wisdom which herself inspires. Others long absent from their native place, Straight seek their home, and fly with eager pace To their wives' arms, and children's dear embrace. Not thus Ulysses; he decrees to prove His subjects' faith, and queen's suspected love; Who mourn'd her lord twice ten revolving years, And wastes the days in grief, the nights in tears. But Pallas knew (thy friends and navy lost) Once more 'twas given thee to behold thy coast; Yet how could I with adverse Fate engage, And mighty Neptune's unrelenting rage? Now lift thy longing eyes, while I restore The pleasing prospect of thy native shore. Bebold the port of Phorcys! fenced around With rocky mountains, and with olives crown'd, Behold the gloomy grot! whose cool recess Delights the Nereids of the neighbouring seas; Whose now-neglected altars in thy reign Blush'd with the blood of sheep and oxen slain, Behold! where Neritus the clouds divides, And shakes the waving forests on his sides."

So spake the goddess; and the prospect clear'd, The mists dispersed, and all the coast appeared. The king with joy confess'd his place of birth, And on his knees salutes his mother earth; Then, with his suppliant hands upheld in air, Thus to the sea-green sisters sends his prayer;

"All hail! ye virgin daughters of the main! Ye streams, beyond my hopes, beheld again! To you once more your own Ulysses bows; Attend his transports, and receive his vows! If Jove prolong my days, and Pallas crown The growing virtues of my youthful son, To you shall rites divine be ever paid, And grateful offerings on your altars laid."

Thus then Minerva: "From that anxious breast Dismiss those cares, and leave to heaven the rest. Our task be now thy treasured stores to save, Deep in the close recesses of the cave; Then future means consult." She spoke, and trod The shady grot, that brighten'd with the god. The closest caverns of the grot she sought; The gold, the brass, the robes, Ulysses brought; These in the secret gloom the chief disposed; The entrance with a rock the goddess closed.

Now, seated in the olive's sacred shade, Confer the hero and the martial maid. The goddess of the azure eyes began: "Son of Laertes! much-experienced man! The suitor-train thy earliest care demand, Of that luxurious race to rid the land; Three years thy house their lawless rule has seen, And proud addresses to the matchless queen. But she thy absence mourns from day to day, And inly bleeds, and silent wastes away; Elusive of the bridal hour, she gives Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives."

To this Ulysses: "O celestial maid! Praised be thy counsel, and thy timely aid; Else had I seen my native walls in vain, Like great Atrides, just restored and slain. Vouchsafe the means of vengeance to debate, And plan with all thy arts the scene of fate. Then, then be present, and my soul inspire, As when we wrapp'd Troy's heaven-built walls in fire. Though leagued against me hundred heroes stand. Hundreds shall fall, if Pallas aid my hand."

She answer'd: "In the dreadful day of fight Know, I am with thee, strong in all my might. If thou but equal to thyself be found, What gasping numbers then shall press the ground! What human victims stain the feastful floor! How wide the pavements float with guilty gore! It fits thee now to wear a dark disguise, And secret walk unknown to mortal eyes. For this, my hand shall wither every grace, And every elegance of form and face; O'er thy smooth skin a bark of wrinkles spread, Turn hoar the auburn honours of thy head; Disfigure every limb with coarse attire, And in thy eyes extinguish all the fire; Add all the wants and the decays of life; Estrange thee from thy own; thy son, thy wife; From the loathed object every sight shall turn, And the blind suitors their destruction scorn.

"Go first the master of thy herds to find, True to his charge, a loyal swain and kind; For thee he sighs; and to the loyal heir And chaste Penelope extends his care. At the Coracian rock he now resides, Where Arethusa's sable water glides; The sable water and the copious mast Swell the fat herd; luxuriant, large repast! With him rest peaceful in the rural cell, And all you ask his faithful tongue shall tell. Me into other realms my cares convey, To Sparta, still with female beauty gay; For know, to Sparta thy loved offspring came, To learn thy fortunes from the voice of Fame."

At this the father, with a father's care: "Must he too suffer? he, O goddess! bear Of wanderings and of woes a wretched share? Through the wild ocean plough the dangerous way, And leave his fortunes and his house a prey? Why would'st not thou, O all-enlighten'd mind! Inform him certain, and protect him, kind?"

To whom Minerva: "Be thy soul at rest; And know, whatever heaven ordains is best. To fame I sent him, to acquire renown; To other regions is his virtue known; Secure he sits, near great Atrides placed; With friendships strengthen'd, and with honours graced, But lo! an ambush waits his passage o'er; Fierce foes insidious intercept the shore; In vain; far sooner all the murderous brood This injured land shall fatten with their blood."

She spake, then touch'd him with her powerful wand: The skin shrunk up, and wither'd at her hand; A swift old age o'er all his members spread; A sudden frost was sprinkled on his head; Nor longer in the heavy eye-ball shined The glance divine, forth-beaming from the mind. His robe, which spots indelible besmear, In rags dishonest flutters with the air: A stag's torn hide is lapp'd around his reins; A rugged staff his trembling hand sustains; And at his side a wretched scrip was hung, Wide-patch'd, and knotted to a twisted thong. So looked the chief, so moved: to mortal eyes Object uncouth! a man of miseries! While Pallas, cleaving the wild fields of air, To Sparta flies, Telemachus her care.

BOOK XIV.

ARGUMENT.

THE CONVERSATION WITH EUMAEUS.

Ulysses arrives in disguise at the house of Eumaeus, where he is received, entertained, and lodged with the utmost hospitality. The several discourses of that faithful old servant, with the feigned story told by Ulysses to conceal himself, and other conversations on various subjects, take up this entire book.



But he, deep-musing, o'er the mountains stray'd Through mazy thickets of the woodland shade, And cavern'd ways, the shaggy coast along With cliffs and nodding forests overhung. Eumaeus at his sylvan lodge he sought, A faithful servant, and without a fault. Ulysses found him busied as he sate Before the threshold of his rustic gate; Around the mansion in a circle shone A rural portico of rugged stone (In absence of his lord with honest toil His own industrious hands had raised the pile). The wall was stone from neighbouring quarries borne, Encircled with a fence of native thorn, And strong with pales, by many a weary stroke Of stubborn labour hewn from heart of oak: Frequent and thick. Within the space were rear'd Twelve ample cells, the lodgments of his herd. Full fifty pregnant females each contain'd; The males without (a smaller race) remain'd; Doom'd to supply the suitors' wasteful feast, A stock by daily luxury decreased; Now scarce four hundred left. These to defend, Four savage dogs, a watchful guard, attend. Here sat Eumaeus, and his cares applied To form strong buskins of well-season'd hide. Of four assistants who his labour share, Three now were absent on the rural care; The fourth drove victims to a suitor train: But he, of ancient faith, a simple swain, Sigh'd, while he furnish'd the luxurious board, And wearied Heaven with wishes for his lord.

Soon as Ulysses near the inclosure drew, With open mouths the furious mastiffs flew: Down sat the sage, and cautious to withstand, Let fall the offensive truncheon from his hand. Sudden, the master runs; aloud he calls; And from his hasty hand the leather falls: With showers of stones he drives then far away: The scattering dogs around at distance bay.

"Unhappy stranger! (thus the faithful swain Began with accent gracious and humane), What sorrow had been mine, if at my gate Thy reverend age had met a shameful fate! Enough of woes already have I known; Enough my master's sorrows and my own. While here (ungrateful task!) his herds I feed, Ordain'd for lawless rioters to bleed! Perhaps, supported at another's board! Far from his country roams my hapless lord; Or sigh'd in exile forth his latest breath, Now cover'd with the eternal shade of death!

"But enter this my homely roof, and see Our woods not void of hospitality. Then tell me whence thou art, and what the share Of woes and wanderings thou wert born to bear."

He said, and, seconding the kind request, With friendly step precedes his unknown guest. A shaggy goat's soft hide beneath him spread, And with fresh rushes heap'd an ample bed; Jove touch'd the hero's tender soul, to find So just reception from a heart so kind: And "Oh, ye gods! with all your blessings grace (He thus broke forth) this friend of human race!"

The swain replied: "It never was our guise To slight the poor, or aught humane despise: For Jove unfold our hospitable door, 'Tis Jove that sends the stranger and the poor, Little, alas! is all the good I can A man oppress'd, dependent, yet a man: Accept such treatment as a swain affords, Slave to the insolence of youthful lords! Far hence is by unequal gods removed That man of bounties, loving and beloved! To whom whate'er his slave enjoys is owed, And more, had Fate allow'd, had been bestow'd: But Fate condemn'd him to a foreign shore; Much have I sorrow'd, but my Master more. Now cold he lies, to death's embrace resign'd: Ah, perish Helen! perish all her kind! For whose cursed cause, in Agamemnon's name, He trod so fatally the paths of fame."

His vest succinct then girding round his waist, Forth rush'd the swain with hospitable haste. Straight to the lodgments of his herd he run, Where the fat porkers slept beneath the sun; Of two, his cutlass launch'd the spouting blood; These quarter'd, singed, and fix'd on forks of wood, All hasty on the hissing coals he threw; And smoking, back the tasteful viands drew. Broachers and all then an the board display'd The ready meal, before Ulysses laid With flour imbrown'd; next mingled wine yet new, And luscious as the bees' nectareous dew: Then sate, companion of the friendly feast, With open look; and thus bespoke his guest: "Take with free welcome what our hands prepare, Such food as falls to simple servants' share; The best our lords consume; those thoughtless peers, Rich without bounty, guilty without fears; Yet sure the gods their impious acts detest, And honour justice and the righteous breast. Pirates and conquerors of harden'd mind, The foes of peace, and scourges of mankind, To whom offending men are made a prey When Jove in vengeance gives a land away; E'en these, when of their ill-got spoils possess'd, Find sure tormentors in the guilty breast: Some voice of God close whispering from within, 'Wretch! this is villainy, and this is sin.' But these, no doubt, some oracle explore, That tells, the great Ulysses is no more. Hence springs their confidence, and from our sighs Their rapine strengthens, and their riots rise: Constant as Jove the night and day bestows, Bleeds a whole hecatomb, a vintage flows. None match'd this hero's wealth, of all who reign O'er the fair islands of the neighbouring main. Nor all the monarchs whose far-dreaded sway The wide-extended continents obey: First, on the main land, of Ulysses' breed Twelve herds, twelve flocks, on ocean's margin feed; As many stalls for shaggy goats are rear'd; As many lodgments for the tusky herd; Two foreign keepers guard: and here are seen Twelve herds of goats that graze our utmost green; To native pastors is their charge assign'd, And mine the care to feed the bristly kind; Each day the fattest bleeds of either herd, All to the suitors' wasteful board preferr'd." Thus he, benevolent: his unknown guest With hunger keen devours the savoury feast; While schemes of vengeance ripen in his breast. Silent and thoughtful while the board he eyed, Eumaeus pours on high the purple tide; The king with smiling looks his joy express'd, And thus the kind inviting host address'd:

"Say now, what man is he, the man deplored, So rich, so potent, whom you style your lord? Late with such affluence and possessions bless'd, And now in honour's glorious bed at rest. Whoever was the warrior, he must be To fame no stranger, nor perhaps to me: Who (so the gods and so the Fates ordain'd) Have wander'd many a sea, and many a land."

"Small is the faith the prince and queen ascribe (Replied Eumaeus) to the wandering tribe. For needy strangers still to flattery fly, And want too oft betrays the tongue to lie. Each vagrant traveller, that touches here, Deludes with fallacies the royal ear, To dear remembrance makes his image rise, And calls the springing sorrows from her eyes. Such thou mayst be. But he whose name you crave Moulders in earth, or welters on the wave, Or food for fish or dogs his relics lie, Or torn by birds are scatter'd through the sky. So perish'd he: and left (for ever lost) Much woe to all, but sure to me the most. So mild a master never shall I find; Less dear the parents whom I left behind, Less soft my mother, less my father kind. Not with such transport would my eyes run o'er, Again to hail them in their native shore, As loved Ulysses once more to embrace, Restored and breathing in his natal place. That name for ever dread, yet ever dear, E'en in his absence I pronounce with fear: In my respect, he bears a prince's part; But lives a very brother in my heart."

Thus spoke the faithful swain, and thus rejoin'd The master of his grief, the man of patient mind: "Ulysses, friend! shall view his old abodes (Distrustful as thou art), nor doubt the gods. Nor speak I rashly, but with faith averr'd, And what I speak attesting Heaven has heard. If so, a cloak and vesture be my meed: Till his return no title shall I plead, Though certain be my news, and great my need. Whom want itself can force untruths to tell, My soul detests him as the gates of hell.

"Thou first be witness, hospitable Jove! And every god inspiring social love! And witness every household power that waits, Guard of these fires, and angel of these gates! Ere the next moon increase or this decay, His ancient realms Ulysses shall survey, In blood and dust each proud oppressor mourn, And the lost glories of his house return."

"Nor shall that meed be thine, nor ever more Shall loved Ulysses hail this happy shore. (Replied Eumaeus): to the present hour Now turn thy thought, and joys within our power. From sad reflection let my soul repose; The name of him awakes a thousand woes. But guard him, gods! and to these arms restore! Not his true consort can desire him more; Not old Laertes, broken with despair: Not young Telemachus, his blooming heir. Alas, Telemachus! my sorrows flow Afresh for thee, my second cause of woe! Like some fair plant set by a heavenly hand, He grew, he flourish'd, and he bless'd the land; In all the youth his father's image shined, Bright in his person, brighter in his mind. What man, or god, deceived his better sense, Far on the swelling seas to wander hence? To distant Pylos hapless is he gone, To seek his father's fate and find his own! For traitors wait his way, with dire design To end at once the great Arcesian line. But let us leave him to their wills above; The fates of men are in the hand of Jove. And now, my venerable guest! declare Your name, your parents, and your native air: Sincere from whence begun, your course relate, And to what ship I owe the friendly freight?"

Thus he: and thus (with prompt invention bold) The cautious chief his ready story told.

"On dark reserve what better can prevail, Or from the fluent tongue produce the tale, Than when two friends, alone, in peaceful place Confer, and wines and cates the table grace; But most, the kind inviter's cheerful face? Thus might we sit, with social goblets crown'd, Till the whole circle of the year goes round: Not the whole circle of the year would close My long narration of a life of woes. But such was Heaven's high will! Know then, I came From sacred Crete, and from a sire of fame: Castor Hylacides (that name he bore), Beloved and honour'd in his native shore; Bless'd in his riches, in his children more. Sprung of a handmaid, from a bought embrace, I shared his kindness with his lawful race: But when that fate, which all must undergo, From earth removed him to the shades below, The large domain his greedy sons divide, And each was portion'd as the lots decide. Little, alas! was left my wretched share, Except a house, a covert from the air: But what by niggard fortune was denied, A willing widow's copious wealth supplied. My valour was my plea, a gallant mind, That, true to honour, never lagg'd behind (The sex is ever to a soldier kind). Now wasting years my former strength confound, And added woes have bow'd me to the ground; Yet by the stubble you may guess the grain, And mark the ruins of no vulgar man. Me, Pallas gave to lead the martial storm, And the fair ranks of battle to deform; Me, Mars inspired to turn the foe to flight, And tempt the secret ambush of the night. Let ghastly Death in all his forms appear, I saw him not, it was not mine to fear. Before the rest I raised my ready steel, The first I met, he yielded, or he fell. But works of peace my soul disdain'd to bear, The rural labour, or domestic care. To raise the mast, the missile dart to wing, And send swift arrows from the bounding string, Were arts the gods made grateful to my mind; Those gods, who turn (to various ends design'd) The various thoughts and talents of mankind. Before the Grecians touch'd the Trojan plain, Nine times commander or by land or main, In foreign fields I spread my glory far, Great in the praise, rich in the spoils of war; Thence charged with riches, as increased in fame, To Crete return'd, an honourable name. But when great Jove that direful war decreed, Which roused all Greece, and made the mighty bleed; Our states myself and Idomen employ To lead their fleets, and carry death to Troy. Nine years we warr'd; the tenth saw Ilion fall; Homeward we sail'd, but heaven dispersed us all. One only month my wife enjoy'd my stay; So will'd the god who gives and takes away. Nine ships I mann'd, equipp'd with ready stores, Intent to voyage to the Aegyptian shores; In feast and sacrifice my chosen train Six days consum'd; the seventh we plough'd the main. Crete's ample fields diminish to our eye; Before the Boreal blast the vessels fly; Safe through the level seas we sweep our way; The steersman governs, and the ships obey. The fifth fair morn we stem the Aegyptian tide, And tilting o'er the bay the vessels ride: To anchor there my fellows I command, And spies commission to explore the land. But, sway'd by lust of gain, and headlong will, The coasts they ravage, and the natives kill. The spreading clamour to their city flies, And horse and foot in mingled tumult rise. The reddening dawn reveals the circling fields, Horrid with bristly spears, and glancing shields. Jove thunder'd on their side. Our guilty head We turn'd to flight; the gathering vengeance spread On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lie dead. I then explored my thought, what course to prove (And sure the thought was dictated by Jove): Oh, had he left me to that happier doom, And saved a life of miseries to come! The radiant helmet from my brows unlaced, And low on earth my shield and javelin cast, I meet the monarch with a suppliant's face, Approach his chariot, and his knees embrace, He heard, he saved, he placed me at his side; My state he pitied, and my tears he dried, Restrain'd the rage the vengeful foe express'd, And turn'd the deadly weapons from my breast. Pious! to guard the hospitable rite, And fearing Jove, whom mercy's works delight.

"In Aegypt thus with peace and plenty bless'd, I lived (and happy still have lived) a guest. On seven bright years successive blessings wait; The next changed all the colour of my fate. A false Phoenician, of insiduous mind, Versed in vile arts, and foe to humankind, With semblance fair invites me to his home; I seized the proffer (ever fond to roam): Domestic in his faithless roof I stay'd, Till the swift sun his annual circle made. To Libya then he mediates the way; With guileful art a stranger to betray, And sell to bondage in a foreign land: Much doubting, yet compell'd I quit the strand, Through the mid seas the nimble pinnace sails, Aloof from Crete, before the northern gales: But when remote her chalky cliffs we lost, And far from ken of any other coast, When all was wild expanse of sea and air, Then doom'd high Jove due vengeance to prepare. He hung a night of horrors o'er their head (The shaded ocean blacken'd as it spread): He launch'd the fiery bolt: from pole to pole Broad burst the lightnings, deep the thunders roll; In giddy rounds the whirling ship is toss'd, An all in clouds of smothering sulphur lost. As from a hanging rock's tremendous height, The sable crows with intercepted flight Drop endlong; scarr'd, and black with sulphurous hue, So from the deck are hurl'd the ghastly crew. Such end the wicked found! but Jove's intent Was yet to save the oppress'd and innocent. Placed on the mast (the last resource of life) With winds and waves I held unequal strife: For nine long days the billows tilting o'er, The tenth soft wafts me to Thesprotia's shore. The monarch's son a shipwreck'd wretch relieved, The sire with hospitable rites received, And in his palace like a brother placed, With gifts of price and gorgeous garments graced While here I sojourn'd, oft I heard the fame How late Ulysses to the country came. How loved, how honour'd in this court he stay'd, And here his whole collected treasure laid; I saw myself the vast unnumber'd store Of steel elaborate, and refulgent ore, And brass high heap'd amidst the regal dome; Immense supplies for ages yet to come! Meantime he voyaged to explore the will Of Jove, on high Dodona's holy hill, What means might best his safe return avail, To come in pomp, or bear a secret sail? Full oft has Phidon, whilst he pour'd the wine, Attesting solemn all the powers divine, That soon Ulysses would return, declared The sailors waiting, and the ships prepared. But first the king dismiss'd me from his shores, For fair Dulichium crown'd with fruitful stores; To good Acastus' friendly care consign'd: But other counsels pleased the sailors' mind: New frauds were plotted by the faithless train, And misery demands me once again. Soon as remote from shore they plough the wave, With ready hands they rush to seize their slave; Then with these tatter'd rags they wrapp'd me round (Stripp'd of my own), and to the vessel bound. At eve, at Ithaca's delightful land The ship arriv'd: forth issuing on the sand, They sought repast; while to the unhappy kind, The pitying gods themselves my chains unbind. Soft I descended, to the sea applied My naked breast, and shot along the tide. Soon pass'd beyond their sight, I left the flood, And took the spreading shelter of the wood. Their prize escaped the faithless pirates mourn'd; But deem'd inquiry vain, and to their ships return'd. Screen'd by protecting gods from hostile eyes, They led me to a good man and a wise, To live beneath thy hospitable care, And wait the woes Heaven dooms me yet to bear."

"Unhappy guest! whose sorrows touch my mind! (Thus good Eumaeus with a sigh rejoin'd,) For real sufferings since I grieve sincere, Check not with fallacies the springing tear: Nor turn the passion into groundless joy For him whom Heaven has destined to destroy. Oh! had he perish'd on some well-fought day, Or in his friend's embraces died away! That grateful Greece with streaming eyes might raise Historic marbles to record his praise; His praise, eternal on the faithful stone, Had with transmissive honours graced his son. Now, snatch'd by harpies to the dreary coast, Sunk is the hero, and his glory lost! While pensive in this solitary den, Far from gay cities and the ways of men, I linger life; nor to the court repair, But when my constant queen commands my care; Or when, to taste her hospitable board, Some guest arrives, with rumours of her lord; And these indulge their want, and those their woe, And here the tears and there the goblets flow. By many such have I been warn'd; but chief By one Aetolian robb'd of all belief, Whose hap it was to this our roof to roam, For murder banish'd from his native home. He swore, Ulysses on the coast of Crete Stay'd but a season to refit his fleet; A few revolving months should waft him o'er, Fraught with bold warriors, and a boundless store O thou! whom age has taught to understand, And Heaven has guided with a favouring hand! On god or mortal to obtrude a lie Forbear, and dread to flatter as to die. Nor for such ends my house and heart are free, But dear respect to Jove, and charity."

"And why, O swain of unbelieving mind! (Thus quick replied the wisest of mankind) Doubt you my oath? yet more my faith to try, A solemn compact let us ratify, And witness every power that rules the sky! If here Ulysses from his labours rest, Be then my prize a tunic and a vest; And where my hopes invite me, straight transport In safety to Dulichium's friendly court. But if he greets not thy desiring eye, Hurl me from yon dread precipice on high: The due reward of fraud and perjury."

"Doubtless, O guest! great laud and praise were mine (Replied the swain, for spotless faith divine), If after social rites and gifts bestow'd, I stain'd my hospitable hearth with blood. How would the gods my righteous toils succeed, And bless the hand that made a stranger bleed? No more—the approaching hours of silent night First claim refection, then to rest invite; Beneath our humble cottage let us haste, And here, unenvied, rural dainties taste."

Thus communed these; while to their lowly dome The full-fed swine return'd with evening home; Compell'd, reluctant, to their several sties, With din obstreperous, and ungrateful cries. Then to the slaves: "Now from the herd the best Select in honour of our foreign guest: With him let us the genial banquet share, For great and many are the griefs we bear; While those who from our labours heap their board Blaspheme their feeder, and forget their lord."

Thus speaking, with despatchful hand he took A weighty axe, and cleft the solid oak; This on the earth he piled; a boar full fed, Of five years' age, before the pile was led: The swain, whom acts of piety delight, Observant of the gods, begins the rite; First shears the forehead of the bristly boar, And suppliant stands, invoking every power To speed Ulysses to his native shore. A knotty stake then aiming at his head, Down dropped he groaning, and the spirit fled. The scorching flames climb round on every side; Then the singed members they with skill divide; On these, in rolls of fat involved with art, The choicest morsels lay from every part. Some in the flames bestrew'd with flour they threw; Some cut in fragments from the forks they drew: These while on several tables they dispose. A priest himself the blameless rustic rose; Expert the destined victim to dispart In seven just portions, pure of hand and heart. One sacred to the nymphs apart they lay: Another to the winged sons of May; The rural tribe in common share the rest, The king the chine, the honour of the feast, Who sate delighted at his servant's board; The faithful servant joy'd his unknown lord. "Oh be thou dear (Ulysses cried) to Jove, As well thou claim'st a grateful stranger's love!"

"Be then thy thanks (the bounteous swain replied) Enjoyment of the good the gods provide. From God's own hand descend our joys and woes; These he decrees, and he but suffers those: All power is his, and whatsoe'er he wills, The will itself, omnipotent, fulfils." This said, the first-fruits to the gods he gave; Then pour'd of offer'd wine the sable wave: In great Ulysses' hand he placed the bowl, He sate, and sweet refection cheer'd his soul. The bread from canisters Mesaulius gave (Eumaeus' proper treasure bought this slave, And led from Taphos, to attend his board, A servant added to his absent lord); His task it was the wheaten loaves to lay, And from the banquet take the bowls away. And now the rage of hunger was repress'd, And each betakes him to his couch to rest.

Now came the night, and darkness cover'd o'er The face of things; the winds began to roar; The driving storm the watery west-wind pours, And Jove descends in deluges of showers. Studious of rest and warmth, Ulysses lies, Foreseeing from the first the storm would rise In mere necessity of coat and cloak, With artful preface to his host he spoke: "Hear me, my friends! who this good banquet grace; 'Tis sweet to play the fool in time and place, And wine can of their wits the wise beguile, Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile, The grave in merry measures frisk about, And many a long-repented word bring out. Since to be talkative I now commence, Let wit cast off the sullen yoke of sense. Once I was strong (would Heaven restore those days!) And with my betters claim'd a share of praise. Ulysses, Menelaus, led forth a band, And join'd me with them ('twas their own command); A deathful ambush for the foe to lay, Beneath Troy walls by night we took our way: There, clad in arms, along the marshes spread, We made the osier-fringed bank our bed. Full soon the inclemency of heaven I feel, Nor had these shoulders covering, but of steel. Sharp blew the north; snow whitening all the fields Froze with the blast, and gathering glazed our shields. There all but I, well fenced with cloak and vest, Lay cover'd by their ample shields at rest. Fool that I was! I left behind my own, The skill of weather and of winds unknown, And trusted to my coat and shield alone! When now was wasted more than half the night, And the stars faded at approaching light, Sudden I jogg'd Ulysses, who was laid Fast by my side, and shivering thus I said:

"'Here longer in this field I cannot lie; The winter pinches, and with cold I die, And die ashamed (O wisest of mankind), The only fool who left his cloak behind.'

"He thought and answer'd: hardly waking yet, Sprung in his mind a momentary wit (That wit, which or in council or in fight, Still met the emergence, and determined right). 'Hush thee (he cried, soft whispering in my ear), Speak not a word, lest any Greek may hear'— And then (supporting on his arm his head), 'Hear me, companions! (thus aloud he said:) Methinks too distant from the fleet we lie: E'en now a vision stood before my eye, And sure the warning vision was from high: Let from among us some swift courier rise, Haste to the general, and demand supplies.'

"Up started Thoas straight, Andraemon's son, Nimbly he rose, and cast his garment down! Instant, the racer vanish'd off the ground; That instant in his cloak I wrapp'd me round: And safe I slept, till brightly-dawning shone The morn conspicuous on her golden throne.

"Oh were my strength as then, as then my age! Some friend would fence me from the winter's rage. Yet, tatter'd as I look, I challenged then The honours and the offices of men: Some master, or some servant would allow A cloak and vest—but I am nothing now!"

"Well hast thou spoke (rejoin'd the attentive swain): Thy lips let fall no idle word or vain! Nor garment shalt thou want, nor aught beside, Meet for the wandering suppliant to provide. But in the morning take thy clothes again, For here one vest suffices every swain: No change of garments to our hinds is known; But when return'd, the good Ulysses' son With better hand shall grace with fit attires His guest, and send thee where thy soul desires."

The honest herdsman rose, as this he said, And drew before the hearth the stranger's bed; The fleecy spoils of sheep, a goat's rough hide He spreads; and adds a mantle thick and wide; With store to heap above him, and below, And guard each quarter as the tempests blow. There lay the king, and all the rest supine; All, but the careful master of the swine: Forth hasted he to tend his bristly care; Well arm'd, and fenced against nocturnal air: His weighty falchion o'er his shoulder tied: His shaggy cloak a mountain goat supplied: With his broad spear the dread of dogs and men, He seeks his lodging in the rocky den. There to the tusky herd he bends his way, Where, screen'd from Boreas, high o'erarch'd they lay.



BOOK XV.

ARGUMENT.

THE RETURN OF TELEMACHUS.

The goddess Minerva commands Telemachus in a vision to return to Ithaca. Pisistratus and he take leave of Menelaus, and arrive at Pylos, where they part: and Telemachus sets sail, after having received on board Theoclymenus the soothsayer. The scene then changes to the cottage of Eumaeus, who entertains Ulysses with a recital of his adventures. In the meantime Telemachus arrives on the coast, and sending the vessel to the town, proceeds by himself to the lodge of Eumaeus.



Now had Minerva reach'd those ample plains, Famed for the dance, where Menelaus reigns: Anxious she flies to great Ulysses' heir, His instant voyage challenged all her care. Beneath the royal portico display'd, With Nestor's son Telemachus was laid: In sleep profound the son of Nestor lies; Not thine, Ulysses! Care unseal'd his eyes: Restless he grieved, with various fears oppress'd, And all thy fortunes roll'd within his breast. When, "O Telemachus! (the goddess said) Too long in vain, too widely hast thou stray'd, Thus leaving careless thy paternal right The robbers' prize, the prey to lawless might. On fond pursuits neglectful while you roam, E'en now the hand of rapine sacks the dome. Hence to Atrides; and his leave implore To launch thy vessel for thy natal shore; Fly, whilst thy mother virtuous yet withstands Her kindred's wishes, and her sire's commands; Through both, Eurymachus pursues the dame, And with the noblest gifts asserts his claim. Hence, therefore, while thy stores thy own remain; Thou know'st the practice of the female train, Lost in the children of the present spouse, They slight the pledges of their former vows; Their love is always with the lover past; Still the succeeding flame expels the last. Let o'er thy house some chosen maid preside, Till Heaven decrees to bless thee in a bride. But now thy more attentive ears incline, Observe the warnings of a power divine; For thee their snares the suitor lords shall lay In Samos' sands, or straits of Ithaca; To seize thy life shall lurk the murderous band, Ere yet thy footsteps press thy native land. No!—sooner far their riot and their lust All-covering earth shall bury deep in dust! Then distant from the scatter'd islands steer, Nor let the night retard thy full career; Thy heavenly guardian shall instruct the gales To smooth thy passage and supply thy sails: And when at Ithaca thy labour ends, Send to the town the vessel with thy friends; But seek thou first the master of the swine (For still to thee his loyal thoughts incline); There pass the night: while he his course pursues To bring Penelope the wish'd-for news, That thou, safe sailing from the Pylian strand, Art come to bless her in thy native land." Thus spoke the goddess, and resumed her flight To the pure regions of eternal light, Meanwhile Pisistratus he gently shakes, And with these words the slumbering youth awakes:

"Rise, son of Nestor; for the road prepare, And join the harness'd coursers to the car."

"What cause (he cried) can justify our flight To tempt the dangers of forbidding night? Here wait we rather, till approaching day Shall prompt our speed, and point the ready way. Nor think of flight before the Spartan king Shall bid farewell, and bounteous presents bring; Gifts, which to distant ages safely stored, The sacred act of friendship shall record."

Thus he. But when the dawn bestreak'd the east, The king from Helen rose, and sought his guest. As soon as his approach the hero knew, The splendid mantle round him first he threw, Then o'er his ample shoulders whirl'd the cloak, Respectful met the monarch, and bespoke:

"Hail, great Atrides, favour'd of high Jove! Let not thy friends in vain for licence move. Swift let us measure back the watery way, Nor check our speed, impatient of delay."

"If with desire so strong thy bosom glows, Ill (said the king) should I thy wish oppose; For oft in others freely I reprove The ill-timed efforts of officious love; Who love too much, hate in the like extreme, And both the golden mean alike condemn. Alike he thwarts the hospitable end, Who drives the free, or stays the hasty friend: True friendship's laws are by this rule express'd, Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest. Yet, stay, my friends, and in your chariot take The noblest presents that our love can make; Meantime commit we to our women's care Some choice domestic viands to prepare; The traveller, rising from the banquet gay, Eludes the labours of the tedious way, Then if a wider course shall rather please, Through spacious Argos and the realms of Greece, Atrides in his chariot shall attend; Himself thy convoy to each royal friend. No prince will let Ulysses' heir remove Without some pledge, some monument of love: These will the caldron, these the tripod give; From those the well-pair'd mules we shall receive, Or bowl emboss'd whose golden figures live."

To whom the youth, for prudence famed, replied: "O monarch, care of heaven! thy people's pride! No friend in Ithaca my place supplies, No powerful hands are there, no watchful eyes: My stores exposed and fenceless house demand The speediest succour from my guardian hand; Lest, in a search too anxious and too vain, Of one lost joy, I lose what yet remain."

His purpose when the generous warrior heard, He charged the household cates to be prepared. Now with the dawn, from his adjoining home, Was Boethoedes Eteoneus come; Swift at the word he forms the rising blaze, And o'er the coals the smoking fragments lays. Meantime the king, his son, and Helen went Where the rich wardrobe breathed a costly scent; The king selected from the glittering rows A bowl; the prince a silver beaker chose. The beauteous queen revolved with careful eyes Her various textures of unnumber'd dyes, And chose the largest; with no vulgar art Her own fair hands embroider'd every part; Beneath the rest it lay divinely bright, Like radiant Hesper o'er the gems of night, Then with each gift they hasten'd to their guest, And thus the king Ulysses' heir address'd: "Since fix'd are thy resolves, may thundering Jove With happiest omens thy desires approve! This silver bowl, whose costly margins shine Enchased with old, this valued gift be thine; To me this present, of Vulcanian frame, From Sidon's hospitable monarch came; To thee we now consign the precious load, The pride of kings, and labour of a god."

Then gave the cup, while Megapenthe brought The silver vase with living sculpture wrought. The beauteous queen, advancing next, display'd The shining veil, and thus endearing said:

"Accept, dear youth, this monument of love, Long since, in better days, by Helen wove: Safe in thy mother's care the vesture lay, To deck thy bride and grace thy nuptial day. Meantime may'st thou with happiest speed regain Thy stately palace, and thy wide domain."

She said, and gave the veil; with grateful look The prince the variegated present took. And now, when through the royal dome they pass'd, High on a throne the king each stranger placed. A golden ewer the attendant damsel brings, Replete with water from the crystal springs; With copious streams the shining vase supplies A silver layer of capacious size. They wash. The tables in fair order spread, The glittering canisters are crown'd with bread; Viands of various kinds allure the taste, Of choicest sort and savour; rich repast! Whilst Eteoneus portions out the shares Atrides' son the purple draught prepares, And now (each sated with the genial feast, And the short rage of thirst and hunger ceased) Ulysses' son, with his illustrious friend, The horses join, the polish'd car ascend, Along the court the fiery steeds rebound, And the wide portal echoes to the sound. The king precedes; a bowl with fragrant wine (Libation destined to the powers divine) His right hand held: before the steed he stands, Then, mix'd with prayers, he utters these commands:

"Farewell, and prosper, youths! let Nestor know What grateful thoughts still in this bosom glow, For all the proofs of his paternal care, Through the long dangers of the ten years' war." "Ah! doubt not our report (the prince rejoin'd) Of all the virtues of thy generous mind. And oh! return'd might we Ulysses meet! To him thy presents show, thy words repeat: How will each speech his grateful wonder raise! How will each gift indulge us in thy praise!"

Scarce ended thus the prince, when on the right Advanced the bird of Jove: auspicious sight! A milk-white fowl his clinching talons bore, With care domestic pampered at the floor. Peasants in vain with threatening cries pursue, In solemn speed the bird majestic flew Full dexter to the car; the prosperous sight Fill'd every breast with wonder and delight.

But Nestor's son the cheerful silence broke, And in these words the Spartan chief bespoke: "Say if to us the gods these omens send, Or fates peculiar to thyself portend?"

Whilst yet the monarch paused, with doubts oppress'd The beauteous queen relieved his labouring breast: "Hear me (she cried), to whom the gods have given To read this sign, and mystic sense of heaven, As thus the plumy sovereign of the air Left on the mountain's brow his callow care, And wander'd through the wide ethereal way To pour his wrath on yon luxurious prey; So shall thy godlike father, toss'd in vain Through all the dangers of the boundless main, Arrive (or if perchance already come) From slaughter'd gluttons to release the dome."

"Oh! if this promised bliss by thundering Jove (The prince replied) stand fix'd in fate above; To thee, as to some god, I'll temples raise. And crown thy altars with the costly blaze."

He said; and bending o'er his chariot, flung Athwart the fiery steeds the smarting thong; The bounding shafts upon the harness play, Till night descending intercepts the way. To Diocles at Pherae they repair, Whose boasted sire was sacred Alpheus' heir; With him all night the youthful stranger stay'd, Nor found the hospitable rites unpaid, But soon as morning from her orient bed Had tinged the mountains with her earliest red, They join'd the steeds, and on the chariot sprung, The brazen portals in their passage rung.

To Pylos soon they came; when thus begun To Nestor's heir Ulysses' godlike son:

"Let not Pisistratus in vain be press'd, Nor unconsenting hear his friend's request; His friend by long hereditary claim, In toils his equal, and in years the same. No farther from our vessel, I implore, The courses drive; but lash them to the shore. Too long thy father would his friend detain; I dread his proffer'd kindness urged in vain."

The hero paused, and ponder'd this request, While love and duty warr'd within his breast. At length resolved, he turn'd his ready hand, And lash'd his panting coursers to the strand. There, while within the poop with care he stored The regal presents of the Spartan lord, "With speed begone (said he); call every mate, Ere yet to Nestor I the tale relate: 'Tis true, the fervour of his generous heart Brooks no repulse, nor couldst thou soon depart: Himself will seek thee here, nor wilt thou find, In words alone, the Pylian monarch kind. But when, arrived, he thy return shall know How will his breast with honest fury glow!" This said, the sounding strokes his horses fire, And soon he reached the palace of his sire.

"Now (cried Telemachus) with speedy care Hoist every sail, and every oar prepare." Swift as the word his willing mates obey, And seize their seats, impatient for the sea.

Meantime the prince with sacrifice adores Minerva, and her guardian aid implores; When lo! a wretch ran breathless to the shore, New from his crime; and reeking yet with gore. A seer he was, from great Melampus sprung, Melampus, who in Pylos flourish'd long, Till, urged by wrongs, a foreign realm he chose, Far from the hateful cause of all his woes. Neleus his treasures one long year detains, As long he groan'd in Philacus' chains: Meantime, what anguish and what rage combined For lovely Pero rack'd his labouring mind! Yet 'scaped he death; and vengeful of his wrong To Pylos drove the lowing herds along: Then (Neleus vanquish'd, and consign'd the fair To Bias' arms) he so sought a foreign air; Argos the rich for his retreat he chose, There form'd his empire; there his palace rose. From him Antiphates and Mantius came: The first begot Oicleus great in fame, And he Amphiaraus, immortal name! The people's saviour, and divinely wise, Beloved by Jove, and him who gilds the skies; Yet short his date of life! by female pride he dies. From Mantius Clitus, whom Aurora's love Snatch'd for his beauty to the thrones above; And Polyphides, on whom Phoebus shone With fullest rays, Amphiaraus now gone; In Hyperesia's groves he made abode, And taught mankind the counsels of the god. From him sprung Theoclymenus, who found (The sacred wine yet foaming on the ground) Telemachus: whom, as to Heaven he press'd His ardent vows, the stranger thus address'd:

"O thou! that dost thy happy course prepare With pure libations and with solemn prayer: By that dread power to whom thy vows are paid; By all the lives of these; thy own dear head, Declare sincerely to no foe's demand Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land."

"Prepare, then (said Telemachus), to know A tale from falsehood free, not free from woe. From Ithaca, of royal birth I came, And great Ulysses (ever honour'd name!) Once was my sire, though now, for ever lost, In Stygian gloom he glides a pensive ghost! Whose fate inquiring through the world we rove; The last, the wretched proof of filial love."

The stranger then: "Nor shall I aught conceal, But the dire secret of my fate reveal. Of my own tribe an Argive wretch I slew; Whose powerful friends the luckless deed pursue With unrelenting rage, and force from home The blood-stain'd exile, ever doom'd to roam. But bear, oh bear me o'er yon azure flood; Receive the suppliant! spare my destined blood!"

"Stranger (replied the prince) securely rest Affianced in our faith; henceforth our guest." Thus affable, Ulysses' godlike heir Takes from the stranger's hand the glittering spear: He climbs the ship, ascends the stern with haste And by his side the guest accepted placed. The chief his order gives: the obedient band, With due observance wait the chief's command: With speed the mast they rear, with speed unbind The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind. Minerva calls; the ready gales obey With rapid speed to whirl them o'er the sea. Crunus they pass'd, next Chalcis roll'd away, With thickening darkness closed the doubtful day; The silver Phaea's glittering rills they lost, And skimm'd along by Elis' sacred coast. Then cautious through the rocky reaches wind, And turning sudden, shun the death design'd.

Meantime, the king, Eumaeus, and the rest, Sate in the cottage, at their rural feast: The banquet pass'd, and satiate every man, To try his host, Ulysses thus began:

"Yet one night more, my friends, indulge your guest; The last I purpose in your walls to rest: To-morrow for myself I must provide, And only ask your counsel, and a guide; Patient to roam the street, by hunger led, And bless the friendly hand that gives me bread. There in Ulysses' roof I may relate Ulysses' wanderings to his royal mate; Or, mingling with the suitors' haughty train, Not undeserving some support obtain. Hermes to me his various gifts imparts. Patron of industry and manual arts: Few can with me in dexterous works contend, The pyre to build, the stubborn oak to rend; To turn the tasteful viand o'er the flame; Or foam the goblet with a purple stream. Such are the tasks of men of mean estate, Whom fortune dooms to serve the rich and great."

"Alas! (Eumaeus with a sigh rejoin'd). How sprung a thought so monstrous in thy mind? If on that godless race thou would'st attend, Fate owes thee sure a miserable end! Their wrongs and blasphemies ascend the sky, And pull descending vengeance from on high. Not such, my friend, the servants of their feast: A blooming train in rich embroidery dress'd, With earth's whole tribute the bright table bends, And smiling round celestial youth attends. Stay, then: no eye askance beholds thee here; Sweet is thy converse to each social ear; Well pleased, and pleasing, in our cottage rest, Till good Telemachus accepts his guest With genial gifts, and change of fair attires, And safe conveys thee where thy soul desires."

To him the man of woes; "O gracious Jove! Reward this stranger's hospitable love! Who knows the son of sorrow to relieve, Cheers the sad heart, nor lets affliction grieve. Of all the ills unhappy mortals know, A life of wanderings is the greatest woe; On all their weary ways wait care and pain, And pine and penury, a meagre train. To such a man since harbour you afford, Relate the farther fortunes of your lord; What cares his mother's tender breast engage, And sire forsaken on the verge of age; Beneath the sun prolong they yet their breath, Or range the house of darkness and of death?"

To whom the swain: "Attend what you enquire; Laertes lives, the miserable sire, Lives, but implores of every power to lay The burden down, and wishes for the day. Torn from his offspring in the eve of life, Torn from the embraces of his tender wife, Sole, and all comfortless, he wastes away Old age, untimely posting ere his day. She too, sad mother! for Ulysses lost Pined out her bloom, and vanish'd to a ghost; (So dire a fate, ye righteous gods! avert From every friendly, every feeling heart!) While yet she was, though clouded o'er with grief. Her pleasing converse minister'd relief: With Climene, her youngest daughter, bred, One roof contain'd us, and one table fed. But when the softly-stealing pace of time Crept on from childhood into youthful prime, To Samos' isle she sent the wedded fair; Me to the fields; to tend the rural care; Array'd in garments her own hands had wove, Nor less the darling object of her love. Her hapless death my brighter days o'ercast, Yet Providence deserts me not at last; My present labours food and drink procure, And more, the pleasure to relieve the poor. Small is the comfort from the queen to hear Unwelcome news, or vex the royal ear; Blank and discountenanced the servants stand, Nor dare to question where the proud command; No profit springs beneath usurping powers; Want feeds not there where luxury devours, Nor harbours charity where riot reigns: Proud are the lords, and wretched are the swains."

The suffering chief at this began to melt; And, "O Eumaeus! thou (he cries) hast felt The spite of fortune too! her cruel hand Snatch'd thee an infant from thy native land! Snatch'd from thy parents' arms, thy parents' eyes, To early wants! a man of miseries! The whole sad story, from its first, declare: Sunk the fair city by the rage of war, Where once thy parents dwelt? or did they keep, In humbler life, the lowing herds and sheep? So left perhaps to tend the fleecy train, Rude pirates seized, and shipp'd thee o'er the main? Doom'd a fair prize to grace some prince's board, The worthy purchase of a foreign lord."