His speech the tempest of her grief restored; In all he told she recognized her lord: But when the storm was spent in plenteous showers, A pause inspiriting her languish'd powers, "O thou, (she cried,) whom first inclement Fate Made welcome to my hospitable gate; With all thy wants the name of poor shall end: Henceforth live honour'd, my domestic friend! The vest much envied on your native coast, And regal robe with figured gold emboss'd, In happier hours my artful hand employ'd, When my loved lord this blissful bower enjoy'd: The fall of Troy erroneous and forlorn Doom'd to survive, and never to return!"

Then he, with pity touch'd: "O royal dame! Your ever-anxious mind, and beauteous frame, From the devouring rage of grief reclaim. I not the fondness of your soul reprove For such a lord! who crown'd your virgin love With the dear blessing of a fair increase; Himself adorn'd with more than mortal grace: Yet while I speak the mighty woe suspend; Truth forms my tale; to pleasing truth attend. The royal object of your dearest care Breathes in no distant clime the vital air: In rich Thesprotia, and the nearer bound Of Thessaly, his name I heard renown'd: Without retinue, to that friendly shore Welcomed with gifts of price, a sumless store! His sacrilegious train, who dared to prey On herds devoted to the god of day, Were doom'd by Jove, and Phoebus' just decree, To perish in the rough Trinacrian sea. To better fate the blameless chief ordain'd, A floating fragment of the wreck regain'd, And rode the storm; till, by the billows toss'd, He landed on the fair Phaeacian coast. That race who emulate the life of gods, Receive him joyous to their bless'd abodes; Large gifts confer, a ready sail command, To speed his voyage to the Grecian strand. But your wise lord (in whose capacious soul High schemes of power in just succession roll) His Ithaca refused from favouring Fate, Till copious wealth might guard his regal state. Phedon the fact affirm'd, whose sovereign sway Thesprotian tribes, a duteous race, obey; And bade the gods this added truth attest (While pure libations crown'd the genial feast), That anchor'd in his port the vessels stand, To waft the hero to his natal land. I for Dulichium urge the watery way, But first the Ulyssean wealth survey: So rich the value of a store so vast Demands the pomp of centuries to waste! The darling object of your royal love Was journey'd thence to Dodonean Jove; By the sure precept of the sylvan shrine, To form the conduct of his great design; Irresolute of soul, his state to shroud In dark disguise, or come, a king avow'd! Thus lives your lord; nor longer doom'd to roam; Soon will he grace this dear paternal dome. By Jove, the source of good, supreme in power! By the bless'd genius of this friendly bower! I ratify my speech, before the sun His annual longitude of heaven shall run; When the pale empress of yon starry train In the next month renews her faded wane, Ulysses will assert his rightful reign."

"What thanks! what boon! (replied the queen), are due, When time shall prove the storied blessing true! My lord's return should fate no more retard, Envy shall sicken at thy vast reward. But my prophetic fears, alas! presage The wounds of Destiny's relentless rage. I long must weep, nor will Ulysses come, With royal gifts to send you honour'd home!— Your other task, ye menial train forbear: Now wash the stranger, and the bed prepare: With splendid palls the downy fleece adorn: Uprising early with the purple morn. His sinews, shrunk with age, and stiff with toil, In the warm bath foment with fragrant oil. Then with Telemachus the social feast Partaking free, my soul invited guest; Whoe'er neglects to pay distinction due, The breach of hospitable right may rue. The vulgar of my sex I most exceed In real fame, when most humane my deed; And vainly to the praise of queen aspire, If, stranger! I permit that mean attire Beneath the feastful bower. A narrow space Confines the circle of our destin'd race; 'Tis ours with good the scanty round to grace. Those who to cruel wrong their state abuse, Dreaded in life the mutter'd curse pursues; By death disrobed of all their savage powers, Then, licensed rage her hateful prey devours. But he whose inborn worth his acts commend, Of gentle soul, to human race a friend; The wretched he relieves diffuse his fame, And distant tongues extol the patron-name."

"Princess? (he cried) in vain your bounties flow On me, confirm'd and obstinate in woe. When my loved Crete received my final view, And from my weeping eyes her cliffs withdrew; These tatter'd weeds (my decent robes resign'd) I chose, the livery of a woful mind! Nor will my heart-corroding care abate With splendid palls, and canopies of state: Low-couch'd on earth, the gift of sleep I scorn, And catch the glances of the waking morn. The delicacy of your courtly train To wash a wretched wanderer would disdain; But if, in tract of long experience tried, And sad similitude of woes allied, Some wretch reluctant views aerial light, To her mean hand assign the friendly rite."

Pleased with his wise reply, the queen rejoin'd: "Such gentle manners, and so sage a mind, In all who graced this hospitable bower I ne'er discerned, before this social hour. Such servant as your humble choice requires, To light received the lord of my desires, New from the birth; and with a mother's hand His tender bloom to manly growth sustain'd: Of matchless prudence, and a duteous mind; Though now to life's extremest verge declined, Of strength superior to the toil design'd— Rise, Euryclea! with officious care For the poor friend the cleansing bath prepare: This debt his correspondent fortunes claim, Too like Ulysses, and perhaps the same! Thus old with woes my fancy paints him now! For age untimely marks the careful brow."

Instant, obsequious to the mild command, Sad Euryclea rose: with trembling hand She veils the torrent of her tearful eyes; And thus impassion'd to herself replies:

"Son of my love, and monarch of my cares, What pangs for thee this wretched bosom bears! Are thus by Jove who constant beg his aid With pious deed, and pure devotion, paid? He never dared defraud the sacred fane Of perfect hecatombs in order slain: There oft implored his tutelary power, Long to protract the sad sepulchral hour; That, form'd for empire with paternal care, His realm might recognize an equal heir. O destined head! The pious vows are lost; His God forgets him on a foreign coast!— Perhaps, like thee, poor guest! in wanton pride The rich insult him, and the young deride! Conscious of worth reviled, thy generous mind The friendly rite of purity declined; My will concurring with my queen's command, Accept the bath from this obsequious hand. A strong emotion shakes my anguish'd breast: In thy whole form Ulysses seems express'd; Of all the wretched harboured on our coast, None imaged e'er like thee my master lost."

Thus half-discover'd through the dark disguise, With cool composure feign'd, the chief replies: "You join your suffrage to the public vote; The same you think have all beholders thought."

He said: replenish'd from the purest springs, The laver straight with busy care she brings: In the deep vase, that shone like burnish'd gold, The boiling fluid temperates the cold. Meantime revolving in his thoughtful mind The scar, with which his manly knee was sign'd; His face averting from the crackling blaze, His shoulders intercept the unfriendly rays: Thus cautious in the obscure he hoped to fly The curious search of Euryclea's eye. Cautious in vain! nor ceased the dame to find This scar with which his manly knee was sign'd.

This on Parnassus (combating the boar) With glancing rage the tusky savage tore. Attended by his brave maternal race, His grandsire sent him to the sylvan chase, Autolycus the bold (a mighty name For spotless faith and deeds of martial fame: Hermes, his patron god, those gifts bestow'd, Whose shrine with weanling lambs he wont to load). His course to Ithaca this hero sped, When the first product of Laertes' bed Was now disclosed to birth: the banquet ends, When Euryclea from the queen descends, And to his fond embrace the babe commends: "Receive (she cries) your royal daughter's son; And name the blessing that your prayers have won." Then thus the hoary chief: "My victor arms Have awed the realms around with dire alarms: A sure memorial of my dreaded fame The boy shall bear; Ulysses be his name! And when with filial love the youth shall come To view his mother's soil, my Delphic dome With gifts of price shall send him joyous home." Lured with the promised boon, when youthful prime Ended in man, his mother's natal clime Ulysses sought; with fond affection dear Amphitea's arms received the royal heir: Her ancient lord an equal joy possess'd; Instant he bade prepare the genial feast: A steer to form the sumptuous banquet bled, Whose stately growth five flowery summers fed: His sons divide, and roast with artful care The limbs; then all the tasteful viands share. Nor ceased discourse (the banquet of the soul), Till Phoebus wheeling to the western goal Resign'd the skies, and night involved the pole. Their drooping eyes the slumberous shade oppress'd, Sated they rose, and all retired to rest.

Soon as the morn, new-robed in purple light, Pierced with her golden shafts the rear of night, Ulysses, and his brave maternal race, The young Autolyci, essay the chase. Parnassus, thick perplex'd with horrid shades, With deep-mouth'd hounds the hunter-troop invades; What time the sun, from ocean's peaceful stream, Darts o'er the lawn his horizontal beam. The pack impatient snuff the tainted gale; The thorny wilds the woodmen fierce assail: And, foremost of the train, his cornel spear Ulysses waved, to rouse the savage war. Deep in the rough recesses of the wood, A lofty copse, the growth of ages, stood; Nor winter's boreal blast, nor thunderous shower, Nor solar ray, could pierce the shady bower. With wither'd foliage strew'd, a heapy store! The warm pavilion of a dreadful boar. Roused by the hounds' and hunters' mingling cries, The savage from his leafy shelter flies; With fiery glare his sanguine eye-balls shine, And bristles high impale his horrid chine. Young Ithacus advanced, defies the foe, Poising his lifted lance in act to throw; The savage renders vain the wound decreed, And springs impetuous with opponent speed! His tusks oblique he aim'd, the knee to gore; Aslope they glanced, the sinewy fibres tore, And bared the bone; Ulysses undismay'd, Soon with redoubled force the wound repaid; To the right shoulder-joint the spear applied, His further flank with streaming purple dyed: On earth he rushed with agonizing pain; With joy and vast surprise, the applauding train View'd his enormous bulk extended on the plain. With bandage firm Ulysses' knee they bound; Then, chanting mystic lays, the closing wound Of sacred melody confess'd the force; The tides of life regain'd their azure course. Then back they led the youth with loud acclaim; Autolycus, enamoured with his fame, Confirm'd the cure; and from the Delphic dome With added gifts return'd him glorious home. He safe at Ithaca with joy received, Relates the chase, and early praise achieved.

Deep o'er his knee inseam'd remain'd the scar; Which noted token of the woodland war When Euryclea found, the ablution ceased: Down dropp'd the leg, from her slack hand released; The mingled fluids from the base redound; The vase reclining floats the floor around! Smiles dew'd with tears the pleasing strife express'd Of grief and joy, alternate in her breast. Her fluttering words in melting murmurs died; At length abrupt—"My son!—my king!"—she cried. His neck with fond embrace infolding fast, Full on the queen her raptured eye she cast Ardent to speak the monarch safe restored: But, studious to conceal her royal lord, Minerva fix'd her mind on views remote, And from the present bliss abstracts her thought. His hand to Euryclea's mouth applied, "Art thou foredoom'd my pest? (the hero cried:) Thy milky founts my infant lips have drain'd; And have the Fates thy babbling age ordain'd To violate the life thy youth sustain'd? An exile have I told, with weeping eyes, Full twenty annual suns in distant skies; At length return'd, some god inspires thy breast To know thy king, and here I stand confess'd. This heaven-discover'd truth to thee consign'd, Reserve the treasure of thy inmost mind: Else, if the gods my vengeful arm sustain, And prostrate to my sword the suitor-train; With their lewd mates, thy undistinguish'd age Shall bleed a victim to vindictive rage."

Then thus rejoin'd the dame, devoid of fear: "What words, my son, have passed thy lips severe? Deep in my soul the trust shall lodge secured; With ribs of steel, and marble heart, immured. When Heaven, auspicious to thy right avow'd, Shall prostrate to thy sword the suitor-crowd, The deeds I'll blazon of the menial fair; The lewd to death devote, the virtuous spare."

"Thy aid avails me not (the chief replied); My own experience shall their doom decide: A witness-judge precludes a long appeal: Suffice it then thy monarch to conceal."

He said: obsequious, with redoubled pace, She to the fount conveys the exhausted vase: The bath renew'd, she ends the pleasing toil With plenteous unction of ambrosial oil. Adjusting to his limbs the tatter'd vest, His former seat received the stranger guest; Whom thus with pensive air the queen addressed:

"Though night, dissolving grief in grateful ease, Your drooping eyes with soft impression seize; Awhile, reluctant to her pleasing force, Suspend the restful hour with sweet discourse. The day (ne'er brighten'd with a beam of joy!) My menials, and domestic cares employ; And, unattended by sincere repose, The night assists my ever-wakeful woes; When nature's hush'd beneath her brooding shade, My echoing griefs the starry vault invade. As when the months are clad in flowery green, Sad Philomel, in bowery shades unseen, To vernal airs attunes her varied strains; And Itylus sounds warbling o'er the plains; Young Itylus, his parents' darling joy! Whom chance misled the mother to destroy; Now doom'd a wakeful bird to wail the beauteous boy. So in nocturnal solitude forlorn, A sad variety of woes I mourn! My mind, reflective, in a thorny maze Devious from care to care incessant strays. Now, wavering doubt succeeds to long despair; Shall I my virgin nuptial vow revere; And, joining to my son's my menial train, Partake his counsels, and assist his reign? Or, since, mature in manhood, he deplores His dome dishonour'd, and exhausted stores; Shall I, reluctant! to his will accord; And from the peers select the noblest lord; So by my choice avow'd, at length decide These wasteful love-debates, a mourning bride! A visionary thought I'll now relate; Illustrate, if you know, the shadow'd fate:

"A team of twenty geese (a snow-white train!) Fed near the limpid lake with golden grain, Amuse my pensive hours. The bird of Jove Fierce from his mountain-eyrie downward drove; Each favourite fowl he pounced with deathful sway, And back triumphant wing'd his airy way. My pitying eyes effused a plenteous stream, To view their death thus imaged in a dream; With tender sympathy to soothe my soul, A troop of matrons, fancy-form'd, condole. But whilst with grief and rage my bosom burn'd, Sudden the tyrant of the skies returned; Perch'd on the battlements he thus began (In form an eagle, but in voice a man): 'O queen! no vulgar vision of the sky I come, prophetic of approaching joy; View in this plumy form thy victor-lord; The geese (a glutton race) by thee deplored, Portend the suitors fated to my sword.' This said, the pleasing feather'd omen ceased. When from the downy bands of sleep released, Fast by the limpid lake my swan-like train I found, insatiate of the golden grain."

"The vision self-explain'd (the chief replies) Sincere reveals the sanction of the skies; Ulysses speaks his own return decreed; And by his sword the suitors sure to bleed."

"Hard is the task, and rare," (the queen rejoin'd,) Impending destinies in dreams to find; Immured within the silent bower of sleep, Two portals firm the various phantoms keep; Of ivory one; whence flit, to mock the brain, Of winged lies a light fantastic train; The gate opposed pellucid valves adorn, And columns fair incased with polish'd horn; Where images of truth for passage wait, With visions manifest of future fate. Not to this troop, I fear, that phantom soar'd, Which spoke Ulysses to this realm restored; Delusive semblance!-but my remnant life Heaven shall determine in a gameful strife; With that famed bow Ulysses taught to bend, For me the rival archers shall contend. As on the listed field he used to place Six beams, opposed to six in equal space; Elanced afar by his unerring art, Sure through six circlets flew the whizzing dart. So, when the sun restores the purple day, Their strength and skill the suitors shall assay; To him the spousal honour is decreed, Who through the rings directs the feather'd reed. Torn from these walls (where long the kinder powers With joy and pomp have wing'd my youthful hours!) On this poor breast no dawn of bliss shall beam; The pleasure past supplies a copious theme For many a dreary thought, and many a doleful dream!"

"Propose the sportive lot (the chief replies), Nor dread to name yourself the bowyer's prize; Ulysses will surprise the unfinish'd game, Avow'd, and falsify the suitors' claim."

To whom with grace serene the queen rejoin'd: "In all thy speech what pleasing force I find! O'er my suspended woe thy words prevail; I part reluctant from the pleasing tale, But Heaven, that knows what all terrestrials need, Repose to night, and toil to day decreed; Grateful vicissitudes! yet me withdrawn, Wakeful to weep and watch the tardy dawn Establish'd use enjoins; to rest and joy Estranged, since dear Ulysses sail'd to Troy! Meantime instructed is the menial tribe Your couch to fashion as yourself prescribe."

Thus affable, her bower the queen ascends; The sovereign step a beauteous train attends; There imaged to her soul Ulysses rose; Down her pale cheek new-streaming sorrow flows; Till soft oblivious shade Minerva spread, And o'er her eyes ambrosial slumber shed.



BOOK XX.

ARGUMENT.

While Ulysses lies in the vestibule of the palace, he is witness to the disorders of the women. Minerva comforts him, and casts him asleep. At his waking he desires a favourable sign from Jupiter, which is granted. The feast of Apollo is celebrated by the people, and the suitors banquet in the palace. Telemachus exerts his authority amongst them; notwithstanding which, Ulysses is insulted by Caesippus, and the rest continue in their excesses. Strange prodigies are seen by Theoclymenus, the augur, who explains them to the destruction of the wooers.



An ample hide devine Ulysses spread. And form'd of fleecy skins his humble bed (The remnants of the spoil the suitor-crowd In festival devour'd, and victims vow'd). Then o'er the chief, Eurynome the chaste With duteous care a downy carpet cast: With dire revenge his thoughtful bosom glows, And, ruminating wrath, he scorns repose.

As thus pavilion'd in the porch he lay, Scenes of lewd loves his wakeful eyes survey, Whilst to nocturnal joys impure repair, With wanton glee, the prostituted fair. His heart with rage this new dishonour stung, Wavering his thoughts in dubious balance hung: Or instant should he quench the guilty flame With their own blood, and intercept the shame: Or to their lust indulge a last embrace, And let the peers consummate the disgrace Round his swoln heart the murmurous fury rolls, As o'er her young the mother-mastiff growls, And bays the stranger groom: so wrath compress'd, Recoiling, mutter'd thunder in his breast. "Poor suffering heart! (he cried,) support the pain Of wounded honour, and thy rage restrain. Not fiercer woes thy fortitude could foil, When the brave partners of thy ten years' toil Dire Polypheme devour'd; I then was freed By patient prudence from the death decreed."

Thus anchor'd safe on reason's peaceful coast, Tempests of wrath his soul no longer toss'd; Restless his body rolls, to rage resign'd As one who long with pale-eyed famine pined, The savoury cates on glowing embers cast Incessant turns, impatient for repast Ulysses so, from side to side-devolved, In self-debate the suitor's doom resolved When in the form of mortal nymph array'd, From heaven descends the Jove-born martial maid; And'hovering o'er his head in view confess'd, The goddess thus her favourite care address'd:

"O thou, of mortals most inured to woes! Why roll those eyes unfriended of repose? Beneath thy palace-roof forget thy care; Bless'd in thy queen! bless'd in thy blooming heir! Whom, to the gods when suppliant fathers bow They name the standard of their dearest vow."

"Just is thy kind reproach (the chief rejoin'd), Deeds full of fate distract my various mind, In contemplation wrapp'd. This hostile crew What single arm hath prowess to subdue? Or if, by Jove's and thy auxiliar aid, They're doom'd to bleed; O say, celestial maid! Where shall Ulysses shun, or how sustain Nations embattled to revenge the slain?"

"Oh impotence of faith! (Minerva cries,) If man on frail unknowing man relies, Doubt you the gods? Lo, Pallas' self descends, Inspires thy counsels, and thy toils attends. In me affianced, fortify thy breast, Though myriads leagued thy rightful claim contest My sure divinity shall bear the shield, And edge thy sword to reap the glorious field. Now, pay the debt to craving nature due, Her faded powers with balmy rest renew." She ceased, ambrosial slumbers seal his eyes; Her care dissolves in visionary joys The goddess, pleased, regains her natal skies.

Not so the queen; the downy bands of sleep By grief relax'd she waked again to weep: A gloomy pause ensued of dumb despair; Then thus her fate invoked, with fervent prayer

"Diana! speed thy deathful ebon dart, And cure the pangs of this convulsive heart. Snatch me, ye whirlwinds! far from human race, Toss'd through the void illimitable space Or if dismounted from the rapid cloud, Me with his whelming wave let Ocean shroud! So, Pandarus, thy hopes, three orphan fair; Were doom'd to wander through the devious air; Thyself untimely, and thy consort died, But four celestials both your cares supplied. Venus in tender delicacy rears With honey, milk, and wine their infant years; Imperial Juno to their youth assigned A form majestic, and sagacious mind; With shapely growth Diana graced their bloom; And Pallas taught the texture of the loom. But whilst, to learn their lots in nuptial love, Bright Cytherea sought the bower of Jove (The God supreme, to whose eternal eye The registers of fate expanded lie; Wing'd Harpies snatch the unguarded charge away, And to the Furies bore a grateful prey. Be such my lot! Or thou, Diana, speed Thy shaft, and send me joyful to the dead; To seek my lord among the warrior train, Ere second vows my bridal faith profane. When woes the waking sense alone assail, Whilst Night extends her soft oblivious veil, Of other wretches' care the torture ends; No truce the warfare of my heart suspends! The night renews the day distracting theme, And airy terrors sable every dream. The last alone a kind illusion wrought, And to my bed my loved Ulysses brought, In manly bloom, and each majestic grace, As when for Troy he left my fond embrace; Such raptures in my beating bosom rise, I deem it sure a vision of the skies."

Thus, whilst Aurora mounts her purple throne, In audible laments she breathes her moan; The sounds assault Ulysses' wakeful ear; Misjudging of the cause, a sudden fear Of his arrival known, the chief alarms; He thinks the queen is rushing to his arms. Upspringing from his couch, with active haste The fleece and carpet in the dome he placed (The hide, without, imbibed the morning air); And thus the gods invoked with ardent prayer:

"Jove, and eternal thrones! with heaven to friend, If the long series of my woes shall end; Of human race now rising from repose, Let one a blissful omen here disclose; And, to confirm my faith, propitious Jove! Vouchsafe the sanction of a sign above."

Whilst lowly thus the chief adoring bows, The pitying god his guardian aid avows. Loud from a sapphire sky his thunder sounds; With springing hope the hero's heart rebounds. Soon, with consummate joy to crown his prayer, An omen'd voice invades his ravish'd ear. Beneath a pile that close the dome adjoin'd, Twelve female slaves the gift of Ceres grind; Task'd for the royal board to bolt the bran From the pure flour (the growth and strength of man) Discharging to the day the labour due, Now early to repose the rest withdrew; One maid unequal to the task assign'd, Still turn'd the toilsome mill with anxious mind; And thus in bitterness of soul divined:

"Father of gods and men, whose thunders roll O'er the cerulean vault, and shake the pole: Whoe'er from Heaven has gain'd this rare ostent (Of granted vows a certain signal sent), In this blest moment of accepted prayer, Piteous, regard a wretch consumed with care! Instant, O Jove! confound the suitor-train, For whom o'ertoil'd I grind the golden grain: Far from this dome the lewd devourers cast, And be this festival decreed their last!"

Big with their doom denounced in earth and sky, Ulysses' heart dilates with secret joy. Meantime the menial train with unctious wood Heap'd high the genial hearth, Vulcanian food: When, early dress'd, advanced the royal heir; With manly grasp he waved a martial spear; A radiant sabre graced his purple zone, And on his foot the golden sandal shone. His steps impetuous to the portal press'd; And Euryclea thus he there address'd:

"Say thou to whom my youth its nurture owes, Was care for due refection and repose Bestow'd the stranger-guest? Or waits he grieved, His age not honour'd, nor his wants relieved? Promiscuous grace on all the queen confers (In woes bewilder'd, oft the wisest errs). The wordy vagrant to the dole aspires, And modest worth with noble scorn retires."

She thus: "O cease that ever-honour'd name To blemish now: it ill deserves your blame, A bowl of generous wine sufficed the guest; In vain the queen the night refection press'd; Nor would he court repose in downy state, Unbless'd, abandon'd to the rage of Fate! A hide beneath the portico was spread, And fleecy skins composed an humble bed; A downy carpet cast with duteous care, Secured him from the keen nocturnal air."

His cornel javelin poised with regal port, To the sage Greeks convened in Themis' court, Forth-issuing from the dome the prince repair'd; Two dogs of chase, a lion-hearted guard, Behind him sourly stalked. Without delay The dame divides the labour of the day; Thus urging to the toil the menial train;

"What marks of luxury the marble stain Its wonted lustre let the floor regain; The seats with purple clothe in order due; And let the abstersive sponge the board renew; Let some refresh the vase's sullied mould; Some bid the goblets boast their native gold; Some to the spring, with each a jar, repair, And copious waters pure for bathing bear; Dispatch! for soon the suitors will essay The lunar feast-rites to the god of day."

She said: with duteous haste a bevy fair Of twenty virgins to the spring repair; With varied toils the rest adorn the dome. Magnificent, and blithe, the suitors come. Some wield the sounding axe; the dodder'd oaks Divide, obedient to the forceful strokes. Soon from the fount, with each a brimming urn (Eumaeus in their train), the maids return. Three porkers for the feast, all brawny-chined, He brought; the choicest of the tusky-kind; In lodgments first secure his care he viewed, Then to the king this friendly speech renew'd: "Now say sincere, my guest! the suitor-train Still treat thy worth with lordly dull disdain; Or speaks their deed a bounteous mind humane?"

"Some pitying god (Ulysses sad replied) With vollied vengeance blast their towering pride! No conscious blush, no sense of right, restrains The tides of lust that swell the boiling veins; From vice to vice their appetites are toss'd, All cheaply sated at another's cost!"

While thus the chief his woes indignant told, Melanthius, master of the bearded fold, The goodliest goats of all the royal herd Spontaneous to the suitors' feast preferr'd; Two grooms assistant bore the victims bound; With quavering cries the vaulted roofs resound; And to the chief austere aloud began The wretch unfriendly to the race of man:

"Here vagrant, still? offensive to my lords! Blows have more energy than airy words; These arguments I'll use: nor conscious shame, Nor threats, thy bold intrusion will reclaim. On this high feast the meanest vulgar boast A plenteous board! Hence! seek another host!"

Rejoinder to the churl the king disdain'd, But shook his head, and rising wrath restrain'd.

From Cephanelia 'cross the surgy main Philaetius late arrived, a faithful swain. A steer ungrateful to the bull's embrace. And goats he brought, the pride of all their race; Imported in a shallop not his own; The dome re-echoed to the mingl'd moan. Straight to the guardian of the bristly kind He thus began, benevolent of mind:

"What guest is he, of such majestic air? His lineage and paternal clime declare: Dim through the eclipse of fate, the rays divine Of sovereign state with faded splendour shine. If monarchs by the gods are plunged in woe, To what abyss are we foredoom'd to go!" Then affable he thus the chief address'd, Whilst with pathetic warmth his hand he press'd:

"Stranger, may fate a milder aspect show, And spin thy future with a whiter clue! O Jove! for ever death to human cries; The tyrant, not the father of the skies! Unpiteous of the race thy will began! The fool of fate, thy manufacture, man, With penury, contempt, repulse, and care, The galling load of life is doom'd to bear. Ulysses from his state a wanderer still, Upbraids thy power, thy wisdom, or thy will! O monarch ever dear!-O man of woe! Fresh flow my tears, and shall for ever flow! Like thee, poor stranger guest, denied his home, Like thee: in rags obscene decreed to roam! Or, haply perish'd on some distant coast, In stygian gloom he glides, a pensive ghost! Oh, grateful for the good his bounty gave, I'll grieve, till sorrow sink me to the grave! His kind protecting hand my youth preferr'd, The regent of his Cephalenian herd; With vast increase beneath my care it spreads: A stately breed! and blackens far the meads. Constrain'd, the choicest beeves I thence import, To cram these cormorants that crowd his court: Who in partition seek his realm to share; Nor human right nor wrath divine revere, Since here resolved oppressive these reside, Contending doubts my anxious heart divide: Now to some foreign clime inclined to fly, And with the royal herd protection buy; Then, happier thoughts return the nodding scale, Light mounts despair, alternate hopes prevail: In opening prospects of ideal joy, My king returns; the proud usurpers die."

To whom the chief: "In thy capacious mind Since daring zeal with cool debate is join'd, Attend a deed already ripe in fate: Attest, O Jove! the truth I now relate! This sacred truth attest, each genial power, Who bless the board, and guard this friendly bower! Before thou quit the dome (nor long delay) Thy wish produced in act, with pleased survey, Thy wondering eyes shall view: his rightful reign By arms avow'd Ulysses shall regain, And to the shades devote the suitor-train."

"O Jove supreme! (the raptured swain replies,) With deeds consummate soon the promised joys! These aged nerves, with new-born vigour strung, In that blest cause should emulate the young." Assents Eumaeus to the prayer address'd; And equal ardours fire his loyal breast.

Meantime the suitors urge the prince's fate, And deathful arts employ the dire debate: When in his airy tour, the bird of Jove Truss'd with his sinewy pounce a trembling dove; Sinister to their hope! This omen eyed Amphinomus, who thus presaging cried:

"The gods from force and fraud the prince defend; O peers! the sanguinary scheme suspend: Your future thought let sable fate employ; And give the present hour to genial joy."

From council straight the assenting peerage ceased, And in the dome prepared the genial feast. Disrobed, their vests apart in order lay, Then all with speed succinct the victims slay: With sheep and shaggy goats the porkers bled, And the proud steer was on the marble spread. With fire prepared, they deal the morsels round, Wine, rosy-bright, the brimming goblets crown'd, By sage Eumaeus borne; the purple tide Melanthius from an ample jar supplied: High canisters of bread Philaetius placed; And eager all devour the rich repast. Disposed apart, Ulysses shares the treat; A trivet table, and ignobler seat, The prince appoints; but to his sire assigns The tasteful inwards, and nectareous wines. "Partake, my guest (he cried), without control The social feast, and drain the cheering bowl: Dread not the railer's laugh, nor ruffian's rage; No vulgar roof protects thy honour'd age; This dome a refuge to thy wrongs shall be, From my great sire too soon devolved to me! Your violence and scorn, ye suitors, cease, Lest arms avenge the violated peace."

Awed by the prince, so haughty, brave, and young, Rage gnaw'd the lip, amazement chain'd the tongue. "Be patient, peers! (at length Antinous cries,) The threats of vain imperious youth despise: Would Jove permit the meditated blow, That stream of eloquence should cease to flow."

Without reply vouchsafed, Antinous ceased: Meanwhile the pomp of festival increased: By heralds rank'd; in marshall'd order move The city tribes, to pleased Apollo's grove: Beneath the verdure of which awful shade, The lunar hecatomb they grateful laid; Partook the sacred feast, and ritual honours paid. But the rich banquet, in the dome prepared (An humble sideboard set) Ulysses shared. Observant of the prince's high behest, His menial train attend the stranger-guest; Whom Pallas with unpardoning fury fired, By lordly pride and keen reproach inspired. A Samian peer, more studious than the rest Of vice, who teem'd with many a dead-born jest; And urged, for title to a consort queen, Unnumber'd acres arable and green (Otesippus named); this lord Ulysses eyed, And thus burst out the imposthumate with pride:

"The sentence I propose, ye peers, attend: Since due regard must wait the prince's friend, Let each a token of esteem bestow: This gift acquits the dear respect I owe; With which he nobly may discharge his seat, And pay the menials for a master's treat."

He said: and of the steer before him placed, That sinewy fragment at Ulysses cast, Where to the pastern-bone, by nerves combined, The well-horn'd foot indissolubly join'd; Which whizzing high, the wall unseemly sign'd. The chief indignant grins a ghastly smile; Revenge and scorn within his bosom boil: When thus the prince with pious rage inflamed: "Had not the inglorious wound thy malice aim'd Fall'n guiltless of the mark, my certain spear Had made thee buy the brutal triumph dear: Nor should thy sire a queen his daughter boast; The suitor, now, had vanish'd in a ghost: No more, ye lewd compeers, with lawless power Invade my dome, my herds and flocks devour: For genuine worth, of age mature to know, My grape shall redden, and my harvest grow Or, if each other's wrongs ye still support, With rapes and riot to profane my court; What single arm with numbers can contend? On me let all your lifted swords descend, And with my life such vile dishonours end."

A long cessation of discourse ensued, By gentler Agelaus thus renew'd:

"A just reproof, ye peers! your rage restrain From the protected guest, and menial train: And, prince! to stop the source of future ill, Assent yourself, and gain the royal will. Whilst hope prevail'd to see your sire restored, Of right the queen refused a second lord: But who so vain of faith, so blind to fate, To think he still survives to claim the state? Now press the sovereign dame with warm desire To wed, as wealth or worth her choice inspire: The lord selected to the nuptial joys Far hence will lead the long-contested prize: Whilst in paternal pomp with plenty bless'd, You reign, of this imperial dome possess'd."

Sage and serene Telemachus replies: "By him at whose behest the thunder flies, And by the name on earth I most revere, By great Ulysses and his woes I swear! (Who never must review his dear domain; Enroll'd, perhaps, in Pluto's dreary train), Whene'er her choice the royal dame avows, My bridal gifts shall load the future spouse: But from this dome my parent queen to chase! From me, ye gods! avert such dire disgrace."

But Pallas clouds with intellectual gloom The suitors' souls, insensate of their doom! A mirthful frenzy seized the fated crowd; The roofs resound with causeless laughter loud; Floating in gore, portentous to survey! In each discolour'd vase the viands lay; Then down each cheek the tears spontaneous flow And sudden sighs precede approaching woe. In vision wrapp'd, the Hyperesian seer Uprose, and thus divined the vengeance near:

"O race to death devote! with Stygian shade Each destin'd peer impending fates invade; With tears your wan distorted cheeks are drown'd; With sanguine drops the walls are rubied round: Thick swarms the spacious hall with howling ghosts, To people Orcus, and the burning coasts! Nor gives the sun his golden orb to roll, But universal night usurps the pole!"

Yet warn'd in vain, with laughter loud elate The peers reproach the sure divine of Fate; And thus Eurymachus: "The dotard's mind To every sense is lost, to reason blind; Swift from the dome conduct the slave away; Let him in open air behold the day."

"Tax not (the heaven-illumined seer rejoin'd) Of rage, or folly, my prophetic mind, No clouds of error dim the ethereal rays, Her equal power each faithful sense obeys. Unguided hence my trembling steps I bend, Far hence, before yon hovering deaths descend; Lest the ripe harvest of revenge begun, I share the doom ye suitors cannot shun."

This said, to sage Piraeus sped the seer, His honour'd host, a welcome inmate there. O'er the protracted feast the suitors sit, And aim to wound the prince with pointless wit: Cries one, with scornful leer and mimic voice, "Thy charity we praise, but not thy choice; Why such profusion of indulgence shown To this poor, timorous, toil-detesting drone? That others feeds on planetary schemes, And pays his host with hideous noon-day dreams. But, prince! for once at least believe a friend; To some Sicilian mart these courtiers send, Where, if they yield their freight across the main, Dear sell the slaves! demand no greater gain."

Thus jovial they; but nought the prince replies; Full on his sire he roll'd his ardent eyes: Impatient straight to flesh his virgin-sword; From the wise chief he waits the deathful word. Nigh in her bright alcove, the pensive queen To see the circle sate, of all unseen. Sated at length they rise, and bid prepare An eve-repast, with equal cost and care: But vengeful Pallas, with preventing speed, A feast proportion'd to their crimes decreed; A feast of death, the feasters doom'd to bleed!



BOOK XXI.

ARGUMENT.

THE BENDING OF ULYSSES' BOW.

Penelope, to put an end to the solicitation of the suitors, proposes to marry the person who shall first bend the bow of Ulysses, and shoot through the ringlets. After their attempts have proved ineffectual, Ulysses, taking Eumaeus and Philaetius apart, discovers himself to them; then returning, desires leave to try his strength at the bow, which, though refused with indignation by the suitors, Penelope and Telemachus cause it to be delivered to his hands. He bends it immediately, and shoots through all the rings. Jupiter at the same instant thunders from heaven; Ulysses accepts the omen, and gives a sign to Telemachus, who stands ready armed at his side.



And Pallas now, to raise the rivals' fires, With her own art Penelope inspires Who now can bend Ulysses' bow, and wing The well-aim'd arrow through the distant ring, Shall end the strife, and win the imperial dame: But discord and black death await the game!

The prudent queen the lofty stair ascends: At distance due a virgin-train attends; A brazen key she held, the handle turn'd, With steel and polish'd elephant adorn'd: Swift to the inmost room she bent her way, Where, safe reposed, the royal treasures lay: There shone high heap'd the labour'd brass and ore, And there the bow which great Ulysses bore; And there the quiver, where now guiltless slept Those winged deaths that many a matron wept.

This gift, long since when Sparta's shore he trod, On young Ulysses Iphitus bestowed: Beneath Orsilochus' roof they met; One loss was private, one a public debt; Messena's state from Ithaca detains Three hundred sheep, and all the shepherd swains; And to the youthful prince to urge the laws, The king and elders trust their common cause. But Iphitus, employed on other cares, Search'd the wide country for his wandering mares, And mules, the strongest of the labouring kind; Hapless to search; more hapless still to find! For journeying on to Hercules, at length That lawless wretch, that man of brutal strength, Deaf to Heaven's voice, the social rites transgress'd; And for the beauteous mares destroy'd his guest. He gave the bow; and on Ulysses' part Received a pointed sword, and missile dart: Of luckless friendship on a foreign shore Their first, last pledges! for they met no more. The bow, bequeath'd by this unhappy hand, Ulysses bore not from his native land; Nor in the front of battle taught to bend, But kept in dear memorial of his friend.

Now gently winding up the fair ascent, By many an easy step the matron went; Then o'er the pavement glides with grace divine (With polish'd oak the level pavements shine); The folding gates a dazzling light display'd, With pomp of various architrave o'erlaid. The bolt, obedient to the silken string, Forsakes the staple as she pulls the ring; The wards respondent to the key turn round; The bars fall back; the flying valves resound; Loud as a bull makes hill and valley ring, So roar'd the lock when it released the spring. She moves majestic through the wealthy room, Where treasured garments cast a rich perfume; There from the column where aloft it hung, Reach'd in its splendid case, the bow unstrung; Across her knees she laid the well-known bow, And pensive sate, and tears began to flow. To full satiety of grief she mourns, Then silent to the joyous hall returns, To the proud suitors bears in pensive state The unbended bow, and arrows winged with fate.

Behind, her train the polish'd coffer brings, Which held the alternate brass and silver rings. Full in the portal the chaste queen appears, And with her veil conceals the coming tears: On either side awaits a virgin fair; While thus the matron, with majestic air:

"Say you, when these forbidden walls inclose, For whom my victims bleed, my vintage flows: If these neglected, faded charms can move? Or is it but a vain pretence, you love? If I the prize, if me you seek to wife, Hear the conditions, and commence the strife. Who first Ulysses' wondrous bow shall bend, And through twelve ringlets the fleet arrow send; Him will I follow, and forsake my home, For him forsake this loved, this wealthy dome, Long, long the scene of all my past delight, And still to last, the vision of my night!"

Graceful she said, and bade Eumaeus show The rival peers the ringlets and the bow. From his full eyes the tears unbidden spring, Touch'd at the dear memorials of his king. Philaetius too relents, but secret shed The tender drops. Antinous saw, and said:

"Hence to your fields, ye rustics! hence away, Nor stain with grief the pleasures of the day; Nor to the royal heart recall in vain The sad remembrance of a perish'd man. Enough her precious tears already flow— Or share the feast with due respect; or go To weep abroad, and leave to us the bow, No vulgar task! Ill suits this courtly crew That stubborn horn which brave Ulysses drew. I well remember (for I gazed him o'er While yet a child), what majesty he bore! And still (all infant as I was) retain The port, the strength, the grandeur of the man."

He said, but in his soul fond joys arise, And his proud hopes already win the prize. To speed the flying shaft through every ring, Wretch! is not thine: the arrows of the king Shall end those hopes, and fate is on the wing!

Then thus Telemachus: "Some god I find With pleasing frenzy has possess'd my mind; When a loved mother threatens to depart, Why with this ill-timed gladness leaps my heart? Come then, ye suitors! and dispute a prize Richer than all the Achaian state supplies, Than all proud Argos, or Mycaena knows, Than all our isles or continents inclose; A woman matchless, and almost divine, Fit for the praise of every tongue but mine. No more excuses then, no more delay; Haste to the trial—Lo! I lead the way.

"I too may try, and if this arm can wing The feather'd arrow through the destined ring, Then if no happier night the conquest boast, I shall not sorrow for a mother lost; But, bless'd in her, possess those arms alone, Heir of my father's strength, as well as throne."

He spoke; then rising, his broad sword unbound, And cast his purple garment on the ground. A trench he open'd: in a line he placed. The level axes, and the points made fast (His perfect skill the wondering gazers eyed, The game as yet unseen, as yet untried). Then, with a manly pace, he took his stand: And grasp'd the bow, and twang'd it in his hand. Three times, with beating heart, he made essay: Three times, unequal to the task, gave way; A modest boldness on his cheek appear'd: And thrice he hoped, and thrice again he fear'd. The fourth had drawn it. The great sire with joy Beheld, but with a sign forbade the boy. His ardour straight the obedient prince suppress'd, And, artful, thus the suitor-train address'd:

"O lay the cause on youth yet immature! (For heaven forbid such weakness should endure!) How shall this arm, unequal to the bow, Retort an insult, or repel a foe? But you! whom Heaven with better nerves has bless'd, Accept the trial, and the prize contest."

He cast the bow before him, and apart Against the polish'd quiver propp'd the dart. Resuming then his seat, Eupithes' son, The bold Antinous, to the rest begun: "From where the goblet first begins to flow, From right to left in order take the bow; And prove your several strengths." The princes heard And first Leiodes, blameless priest'd, appear'd: The eldest born of Oenops' noble race, Who next the goblet held his holy place: He, only he, of all the suitor throng, Their deeds detested, and abjured the wrong. With tender hands the stubborn horn he strains, The stubborn horn resisted all his pains! Already in despair he gives it o'er: "Take it who will (he cries), I strive no more, What numerous deaths attend this fatal bow! What souls and spirits shall it send below! Better, indeed, to die, and fairly give Nature her debt, than disappointed live, With each new sun to some new hope a prey, Yet still to-morrow falser than to-day. How long in vain Penelope we sought! This bow shall ease us of that idle thought, And send us with some humbler wife to live, Whom gold shall gain, or destiny shall give."

Thus speaking, on the floor the bow he placed (With rich inlay the various floor was graced): At distance far the feather'd shaft he throws, And to the seat returns from whence he rose.

To him Antinous thus with fury said: "What words ill-omen'd from thy lips have fled? Thy coward-function ever is in fear! Those arms are dreadful which thou canst not bear, Why should this bow be fatal to the brave? Because the priest is born a peaceful slave. Mark then what others can." He ended there, And bade Melanthius a vast pile prepare; He gives it instant flame, then fast beside Spreads o'er an ample board a bullock's hide. With melted lard they soak the weapon o'er, Chafe every knot, and supple every pore. Vain all their art, and all their strength as vain; The bow inflexible resists their pain. The force of great Eurymachus alone And bold Antinous, yet untired, unknown: Those only now remain'd; but those confess'd Of all the train the mightiest and the best.

Then from the hall, and from the noisy crew, The masters of the herd and flock withdrew. The king observes them, he the hall forsakes, And, past the limits of the court, o'ertakes. Then thus with accent mild Ulysses spoke: "Ye faithful guardians of the herd and flock! Shall I the secret of my breast conceal, Or (as my soul now dictates) shall I tell? Say, should some favouring god restore again The lost Ulysses to his native reign, How beat your hearts? what aid would you afford To the proud suitors, or your ancient lord?"

Philaetius thus: "O were thy word not vain! Would mighty Jove restore that man again! These aged sinews, with new vigour strung, In his blest cause should emulate the young." With equal vows Eumaeus too implored Each power above, with wishes for his lord.

He saw their secret souls, and thus began: "Those vows the gods accord; behold the man! Your own Ulysses! twice ten years detain'd By woes and wanderings from this hapless land: At length he comes; but comes despised, unknown, And finding faithful you, and you alone. All else have cast him from their very thought, E'en in their wishes and their prayers forgot! Hear then, my friends: If Jove this arm succeed, And give yon impious revellers to bleed, My care shall be to bless your future lives With large possessions and with faithful wives; Fast by my palace shall your domes ascend, And each on young Telemachus attend, And each be call'd his brother and my friend. To give you firmer faith, now trust your eye; Lo! the broad scar indented on my thigh, When with Autolycus' sons, of yore, On Parnass' top I chased the tusky boar." His ragged vest then drawn aside disclosed The sign conspicuous, and the scar exposed: Eager they view'd, with joy they stood amazed With tearful eyes o'er all their master gazed: Around his neck their longing arms they cast, His head, his shoulders, and his knees embraced; Tears followed tears; no word was in their power; In solemn silence fell the kindly shower. The king too weeps, the king too grasps their hands; And moveless, as a marble fountain, stands.

Thus had their joy wept down the setting sun, But first the wise man ceased, and thus begun: "Enough—on other cares your thought employ, For danger waits on all untimely joy. Full many foes and fierce, observe us near; Some may betray, and yonder walls may hear. Re-enter then, not all at once, but stay Some moments you, and let me lead the way. To me, neglected as I am I know The haughty suitors will deny the bow; But thou, Eumaeus, as 'tis borne away, Thy master's weapon to his hand convey. At every portal let some matron wait, And each lock fast the well-compacted gate: Close let them keep, whate'er invades their ear; Though arms, or shouts, or dying groans they hear. To thy strict charge, Philaetius, we consign The court's main gate: to guard that pass be thine."

This said, he first return'd; the faithful swains At distance follow, as their king ordains. Before the flame Eurymachus now stands, And turns the bow, and chafes it with his hands Still the tough bow unmoved. The lofty man Sigh'd from his mighty soul, and thus began:

"I mourn the common cause: for, oh, my friends, On me, on all, what grief, what shame attends! Not the lost nuptials can affect me more (For Greece has beauteous dames on every shore), But baffled thus! confess'd so far below Ulysses' strength, as not to bend his bow! How shall all ages our attempt deride! Our weakness scorn!" Antinous thus replied:

"Not so, Eurymachus: that no man draws The wondrous bow, attend another cause. Sacred to Phoebus is the solemn day, Which thoughtless we in games would waste away: Till the next dawn this ill-timed strife forego, And here leave fixed the ringlets in a row. Now bid the sewer approach, and let us join In due libations, and in rites divine, So end our night: before the day shall spring, The choicest offerings let Melanthius bring: Let then to Phoebus' name the fatted thighs Feed the rich smokes high curling to the skies. So shall the patron of these arts bestow (For his the gift) the skill to bend the bow."

They heard well pleased: the ready heralds bring The cleansing waters from the limpid spring: The goblet high with rosy wine they crown'd, In order circling to the peers around. That rite complete, uprose the thoughtful man, And thus his meditated scheme began:

"If what I ask your noble minds approve, Ye peers and rivals in the royal love! Chief, if it hurt not great Antinous' ear (Whose sage decision I with wonder hear), And if Eurymachus the motion please: Give Heaven this day and rest the bow in peace. To-morrow let your arms dispute the prize, And take it he, the favour'd of the skies! But, since till then this trial you delay, Trust it one moment to my hands to-day: Fain would I prove, before your judging eyes, What once I was, whom wretched you despise: If yet this arm its ancient force retain; Or if my woes (a long-continued train) And wants and insults, make me less than man."

Rage flash'd in lightning from the suitors' eyes, Yet mixed with terror at the bold emprise. Antinous then: "O miserable guest! Is common sense quite banish'd from thy breast? Sufficed it not, within the palace placed, To sit distinguish'd, with our presence graced, Admitted here with princes to confer, A man unknown, a needy wanderer? To copious wine this insolence we owe, And much thy betters wine can overthrow: The great Eurytian when this frenzy stung, Pirithous' roofs with frantic riot rung; Boundless the Centaur raged; till one and all The heroes rose, and dragg'd him from the hall; His nose they shorten'd, and his ears they slit, And sent him sober'd home, with better wit. Hence with long war the double race was cursed, Fatal to all, but to the aggressor first. Such fate I prophesy our guest attends, If here this interdicted bow he bends: Nor shall these walls such insolence contain: The first fair wind transports him o'er the main, Where Echetus to death the guilty brings (The worst of mortals, e'en the worst of kings). Better than that, if thou approve our cheer; Cease the mad strife and share our bounty here."

To this the queen her just dislike express'd:

"'Tis impious, prince, to harm the stranger-guest, Base to insult who bears a suppliant's name, And some respect Telemachus may claim. What if the immortals on the man bestow Sufficient strength to draw the mighty bow? Shall I, a queen, by rival chiefs adored, Accept a wandering stranger for my lord? A hope so idle never touch'd his brain: Then ease your bosoms of a fear so vain. Far be he banish'd from this stately scene Who wrongs his princess with a thought so mean."

"O fair! and wisest of so fair a kind! (Respectful thus Eurymachus rejoin'd,) Moved by no weak surmise, but sense of shame, We dread the all-arraigning voice of Fame: We dread the censure of the meanest slave, The weakest woman: all can wrong the brave. 'Behold what wretches to the bed pretend Of that brave chief whose bow they could not bend! In came a beggar of the strolling crew, And did what all those princes could not do.' Thus will the common voice our deed defame, And thus posterity upbraid our name."

To whom the queen: "If fame engage your views, Forbear those acts which infamy pursues; Wrong and oppression no renown can raise; Know, friend! that virtue is the path to praise. The stature of our guest, his port, his face, Speak him descended from no vulgar race. To him the bow, as he desires, convey; And to his hand if Phoebus give the day, Hence, to reward his merit, be shall bear A two-edged falchion and a shining spear, Embroider'd sandals, a rich cloak and vest, A safe conveyance to his port of rest."

"O royal mother! ever-honour'd name! Permit me (cries Telemachus) to claim A son's just right. No Grecian prince but I Has power this bow to grant or to deny. Of all that Ithaca's rough hills contain, And all wide Elis' courser-breeding plain, To me alone my father's arms descend; And mine alone they are, to give or lend. Retire, O queen! thy household task resume, Tend, with thy maids, the labours of thy loom; The bow, the darts, and arms of chivalry, These cares to man belong, and most to me."

Mature beyond his years, the queen admired His sage reply, and with her train retired; There in her chamber as she sate apart, Revolved his words, and placed them in her heart. On her Ulysses then she fix'd her soul; Down her fair cheek the tears abundant roll, Till gentle Pallas, piteous of her cries, In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes.

Now through the press the bow Eumaeus bore, And all was riot, noise, and wild uproar. "Hold! lawless rustic! whither wilt thou go? To whom, insensate, dost thou bear the bow? Exiled for this to some sequester'd den, Far from the sweet society of men, To thy own dogs a prey thou shalt be made; If Heaven and Phoebus lend the suitors aid." Thus they. Aghast he laid the weapon down, But bold Telemachus thus urged him on: "Proceed, false slave, and slight their empty words: What! hopes the fool to please so many lords? Young as I am, thy prince's vengeful hand Stretch'd forth in wrath shall drive thee from the land. Oh! could the vigour of this arm as well The oppressive suitors from my walls expel! Then what a shoal of lawless men should go To fill with tumult the dark courts below!"

The suitors with a scornful smile survey The youth, indulging in the genial day. Eumaeus, thus encouraged, hastes to bring The strifeful bow and gives it to the king. Old Euryclea calling them aside, "Hear what Telemachus enjoins (he cried): At every portal let some matron wait, And each lock fast the well-compacted gate; And if unusual sounds invade their ear, If arms, or shouts, or dying groans they hear, Let none to call or issue forth presume, But close attend the labours of the loom."

Her prompt obedience on his order waits; Closed in an instant were the palace gates. In the same moment forth Philaetius flies, Secures the court, and with a cable ties The utmost gate (the cable strongly wrought Of Byblos' reed, a ship from Egypt brought); Then unperceived and silent at the board His seat he takes, his eyes upon his lord.

And now his well-known bow the master bore, Turn'd on all sides, and view'd it o'er and o'er; Lest time or worms had done the weapon wrong, Its owner absent, and untried so long. While some deriding—"How he turns the bow! Some other like it sure the man must know, Or else would copy; or in bows he deals; Perhaps he makes them, or perhaps he steals." "Heaven to this wretch (another cried) be kind! And bless, in all to which he stands inclined. With such good fortune as he now shall find."

Heedless he heard them: but disdain'd reply; The bow perusing with exactest eye. Then, as some heavenly minstrel, taught to sing High notes responsive to the trembling string, To some new strain when he adapts the lyre, Or the dumb lute refits with vocal wire, Relaxes, strains, and draws them to and fro; So the great master drew the mighty bow, And drew with ease. One hand aloft display'd The bending horns, and one the string essay'd. From his essaying hand the string, let fly, Twang'd short and sharp like the shrill swallow's cry. A general horror ran through all the race, Sunk was each heart, and pale was every face, Signs from above ensued: the unfolding sky In lightning burst; Jove thunder'd from on high. Fired at the call of heaven's almighty Lord, He snatch'd the shaft that glitter'd on the board (Fast by, the rest lay sleeping in the sheath, But soon to fly the messengers of death).

Now sitting as he was, the cord he drew, Through every ringlet levelling his view: Then notch'd the shaft, released, and gave it wing; The whizzing arrow vanished from the string, Sung on direct, and threaded every ring. The solid gate its fury scarcely bounds; Pierced through and through the solid gate resounds, Then to the prince: "Nor have I wrought thee shame; Nor err'd this hand unfaithful to its aim; Nor prov'd the toil too hard; nor have I lost That ancient vigour, once my pride and boast. Ill I deserved these haughty peers' disdain; Now let them comfort their dejected train, In sweet repast their present hour employ, Nor wait till evening for the genial joy: Then to the lute's soft voice prolong the night; Music, the banquet's most refined delight."

He said, then gave a nod; and at the word Telemachus girds on his shining sword. Fast by his father's side he takes his stand: The beamy javelin lightens in his hand.



BOOK XXII.

ARGUMENT.

THE DEATH OF THE SUITORS.

Ulysses begins the slaughter of the suitors by the death of Antinous. He declares himself, and lets fly his arrows at the rest. Telemachus assists and brings arms for his father, himself, Eumaeus, and Philaetius. Melanthius does the same for the wooers. Minerva encourages Ulysses in the shape of Mentor. The suitors are all slain, only Medon and Phemius are spared. Melanthius and the unfaithful servants are executed. The rest acknowledge their master with all demonstrations of joy.



Then fierce the hero o'er the threshold strode; Stripp'd of his rags, he blazed out like a god. Full in their face the lifted bow he bore, And quiver'd deaths, a formidable store; Before his feet the rattling shower he threw, And thus, terrific, to the suitor-crew:

"One venturous game this hand hath won to-day, Another, princes! yet remains to play; Another mark our arrow must attain. Phoebus, assist! nor be the labour vain." Swift as the word the parting arrow sings, And bears thy fate, Antinous, on its wings: Wretch that he was, of unprophetic soul! High in his hands he rear'd the golden bowl! E'en then to drain it lengthen'd out his breath; Changed to the deep, the bitter draught of death: For fate who fear'd amidst a feastful band? And fate to numbers, by a single hand? Full through his throat Ulysses' weapon pass'd, And pierced his neck. He falls, and breathes his last. The tumbling goblet the wide floor o'erflows, A stream of gore burst spouting from his nose; Grim in convulsive agonies be sprawls: Before him spurn'd the loaded table falls, And spreads the pavement with a mingled flood Of floating meats, and wine, and human blood. Amazed, confounded, as they saw him fall, Up rose he throngs tumultuous round the hall: O'er all the dome they cast a haggard eye, Each look'd for arms—in vain; no arms were nigh: "Aim'st thou at princes? (all amazed they said;) Thy last of games unhappy hast thou play'd; Thy erring shaft has made our bravest bleed, And death, unlucky guest, attends thy deed. Vultures shall tear thee." Thus incensed they spoke, While each to chance ascribed the wondrous stroke: Blind as they were: for death e'en now invades His destined prey, and wraps them all in shades. Then, grimly frowning, with a dreadful look, That wither'd all their hearts, Ulysses spoke:

"Dogs, ye have had your day! ye fear'd no more Ulysses vengeful from the Trojan shore; While, to your lust and spoil a guardless prey, Our house, our wealth, our helpless handmaids lay: Not so content, with bolder frenzy fired, E'en to our bed presumptuous you aspired: Laws or divine or human fail'd to move, Or shame of men, or dread of gods above; Heedless alike of infamy or praise, Or Fame's eternal voice in future days; The hour of vengeance, wretches, now is come; Impending fate is yours, and instant doom."

Thus dreadful he. Confused the suitors stood, From their pale cheeks recedes the flying blood: Trembling they sought their guilty heads to hide. Alone the bold Eurymachus replied:

"If, as thy words import (he thus began), Ulysses lives, and thou the mighty man, Great are thy wrongs, and much hast thou sustain'd In thy spoil'd palace, and exhausted land; The cause and author of those guilty deeds, Lo! at thy feet unjust Antinous bleeds Not love, but wild ambition was his guide; To slay thy son, thy kingdom to divide, These were his aims; but juster Jove denied. Since cold in death the offender lies, oh spare Thy suppliant people, and receive their prayer! Brass, gold, and treasures, shall the spoil defray, Two hundred oxen every prince shall pay: The waste of years refunded in a day. Till then thy wrath is just." Ulysses burn'd With high disdain, and sternly thus return'd:

"All, all the treasure that enrich'd our throne Before your rapines, join'd with all your own, If offer'd, vainly should for mercy call; 'Tis you that offer, and I scorn them all; Your blood is my demand, your lives the prize, Till pale as yonder wretch each suitor lies. Hence with those coward terms; or fight or fly; This choice is left you, to resist or die: And die I trust ye shall." He sternly spoke: With guilty fears the pale assembly shook. Alone Eurymachus exhorts the train: "Yon archer, comrades, will not shoot in vain; But from the threshold shall his darts be sped, (Whoe'er he be), till every prince lie dead? Be mindful of yourselves, draw forth your swords, And to his shafts obtend these ample boards (So need compels). Then, all united, strive The bold invader from his post to drive: The city roused shall to our rescue haste, And this mad archer soon have shot his last." Swift as he spoke, he drew his traitor sword, And like a lion rush'd against his lord: The wary chief the rushing foe repress'd, Who met the point and forced it in his breast: His falling hand deserts the lifted sword, And prone he falls extended o'er the board! Before him wide, in mix'd effusion roll The untasted viands, and the jovial bowl. Full through his liver pass'd the mortal wound, With dying rage his forehead beats the ground; He spurn'd the seat with fury as he fell, And the fierce soul to darkness dived, and hell. Next bold Amphinomus his arm extends To force the pass; the godlike man defends. Thy spear, Telemachus, prevents the attack, The brazen weapon driving through his back. Thence through his breast its bloody passage tore; Flat falls he thundering on the marble floor, And his crush'd forehead marks the stone with gore. He left his javelin in the dead, for fear The long encumbrance of the weighty spear To the fierce foe advantage might afford, To rash between and use the shorten'd sword. With speedy ardour to his sire he flies, And, "Arm, great father! arm (in haste he cries). Lo, hence I run for other arms to wield, For missive javelins, and for helm and shield; Fast by our side let either faithful swain In arms attend us, and their part sustain."

"Haste, and return (Ulysses made reply) While yet the auxiliar shafts this hand supply; Lest thus alone, encounter'd by an host, Driven from the gate, the important past be lost."

With speed Telemachus obeys, and flies Where piled in heaps the royal armour lies; Four brazen helmets, eight refulgent spears, And four broad bucklers to his sire he bears: At once in brazen panoply they shone. At once each servant braced his armour on; Around their king a faithful guard they stand. While yet each shaft flew deathful from his hand: Chief after chief expired at every wound, And swell'd the bleeding mountain on the ground. Soon as his store of flying fates was spent. Against the wall he set the bow unbent; And now his shoulders bear the massy shield, And now his hands two beamy javelins wield: He frowns beneath his nodding plume, that play'd O'er the high crest, and cast a dreadful shade.

There stood a window near, whence looking down From o'er the porch appear'd the subject town. A double strength of valves secured the place, A high and narrow; but the only pass: The cautious king, with all-preventing care, To guard that outlet, placed Eumaeus there; When Agelaus thus: "Has none the sense To mount yon window, and alarm from thence The neighbour-town? the town shall force the door, And this bold archer soon shall shoot no more." Melanthius then: "That outlet to the gate So near adjoins, that one may guard the strait. But other methods of defence remain; Myself with arms can furnish all the train; Stores from the royal magazine I bring, And their own darts shall pierce the prince and king."

He said; and mounting up the lofty stairs, Twelve shields, twelve lances, and twelve helmets bears: All arm, and sudden round the hall appears A blaze of bucklers, and a wood of spears.

The hero stands oppress'd with mighty woe, On every side he sees the labour grow; "Oh cursed event! and oh unlook'd for aid! Melanthius or the women have betray'd— Oh my dear son!"—The father with a sigh Then ceased; the filial virtue made reply;

"Falsehood is folly, and 'tis just to own The fault committed: this was mine alone; My haste neglected yonder door to bar, And hence the villain has supplied their war. Run, good Eumaeus, then, and (what before I thoughtless err'd in) well secure that door: Learn, if by female fraud this deed were done, Or (as my thought misgives) by Dolius' son."

While yet they spoke, in quest of arms again To the high chamber stole the faithless swain, Not unobserved. Eumaeus watchful eyed, And thus address'd Ulysses near his side:

"The miscreant we suspected takes that way; Him, if this arm be powerful, shall I slay? Or drive him hither, to receive the meed From thy own hand, of this detested deed?"

"Not so (replied Ulysses); leave him there, For us sufficient is another care; Within the structure of this palace wall To keep enclosed his masters till they fall. Go you, and seize the felon; backward bind His arms and legs, and fix a plank behind: On this his body by strong cords extend, And on a column near the roof suspend: So studied tortures his vile days shall end."

The ready swains obey'd with joyful haste, Behind the felon unperceived they pass'd, As round the room in quest of arms he goes (The half-shut door conceal'd his lurking foes): One hand sustain'd a helm, and one the shield Which old Laertes wont in youth to wield, Cover'd with dust, with dryness chapp'd and worn, The brass corroded, and the leather torn. Thus laden, o'er the threshold as he stepp'd, Fierce on the villain from each side they leap'd, Back by the hair the trembling dastard drew, And down reluctant on the pavement threw. Active and pleased the zealous swains fulfil At every point their master's rigid will; First, fast behind, his hands and feet they bound, Then straighten'd cords involved his body round; So drawn aloft, athwart the column tied, The howling felon swung from side to side.

Eumaeus scoffing then with keen disdain: "There pass thy pleasing night, O gentle swain! On that soft pillow, from that envied height, First may'st thou see the springing dawn of light; So timely rise, when morning streaks the east, To drive thy victims to the suitors' feast."

This said, they, left him, tortured as he lay, Secured the door, and hasty strode away: Each, breathing death, resumed his dangerous post Near great Ulysses; four against an host, When lo! descending to her hero's aid, Jove's daughter, Pallas, War's triumphant maid: In Mentor's friendly form she join'd his side: Ulysses saw, and thus with transport cried:

"Come, ever welcome, and thy succour lend; O every sacred name in one, my friend! Early we loved, and long our loves have grown; Whate'er through life's whole series I have done, Or good, or grateful, now to mind recall, And, aiding this one hour, repay it all."

Thus he; but pleasing hopes his bosom warm Of Pallas latent in the friendly form. The adverse host the phantom-warrior eyed, And first, loud-threatening, Agelaus cried:

"Mentor, beware, nor let that tongue persuade Thy frantic arm to lend Ulysses aid; Our force successful shall our threat make good, And with the sire and son commix thy blood. What hopest thou here? Thee first the sword shall slay, Then lop thy whole posterity away; Far hence thy banish'd consort shall we send; With his thy forfeit lands and treasures blend; Thus, and thus only, shalt thou join thy friend."

His barbarous insult even the goddess fires, Who thus the warrior to revenge inspires:

"Art thou Ulysses? where then shall we find The patient body and the constant mind? That courage, once the Trojans' daily dread, Known nine long years, and felt by heroes dead? And where that conduct, which revenged the lust Of Priam's race, and laid proud Troy in dust? If this, when Helen was the cause, were done; What for thy country now, thy queen, thy son? Rise then in combat, at my side attend; Observe what vigour gratitude can lend, And foes how weak, opposed against a friend!"

She spoke; but willing longer to survey The sire and son's great acts withheld the day! By farther toils decreed the brave to try, And level poised the wings of victory; Then with a change of form eludes their sight, Perch'd like a swallow on a rafter's height, And unperceived enjoys the rising fight.

Damastor's son, bold Agelaus, leads, The guilty war, Eurynomus succeeds; With these, Pisander, great Polyctor's son, Sage Polybus, and stern Amphimedon, With Demoptolemus: these six survive: The best of all the shafts had left alive. Amidst the carnage, desperate as they stand, Thus Agelaus roused the lagging band:

"The hour has come, when yon fierce man no more With bleeding princes shall bestrew the floor; Lo! Mentor leaves him with an empty boast; The four remain, but four against an host. Let each at once discharge the deadly dart, One sure of six shall reach Ulysses' heart: The rest must perish, their great leader slain: Thus shall one stroke the glory lost regain."

Then all at once their mingled lances threw, And thirsty all of one man's blood they flew; In vain! Minerva turned them with her breath, And scattered short, or wide, the points of death! With deaden'd sound one on the threshold falls, One strikes the gate, one rings against the walls: The storm passed innocent. The godlike man Now loftier trod, and dreadful thus began: "'Tis now (brave friends) our turn, at once to throw, (So speed them Heaven) our javelins at the foe. That impious race to all their past misdeeds Would add our blood, injustice still proceeds."

He spoke: at once their fiery lances flew: Great Demoptolemus Ulysses slew; Euryades received the prince's dart; The goatherd's quiver'd in Pisander's heart; Fierce Elatus by thine, Eumaeus, falls; Their fall in thunder echoes round the walls. The rest retreat: the victors now advance, Each from the dead resumes his bloody lance. Again the foe discharge the steely shower; Again made frustrate by the virgin-power. Some, turn'd by Pallas, on the threshold fall, Some wound the gate, some ring against the wall; Some weak, or ponderous with the brazen head, Drop harmless on the pavement, sounding dead.

Then bold Amphimedon his javelin cast: Thy hand, Telemachus, it lightly razed: And from Ctesippus' arm the spear elanced: On good Eumaeus' shield and shoulder glanced; Not lessened of their force (so light the wound) Each sung along and dropped upon the ground. Fate doom'd thee next, Eurydamus, to bear, Thy death ennobled by Ulysses' spear. By the bold son Amphimedon was slain, And Polybus renown'd, the faithful swain. Pierced through the breast the rude Ctesippus bled, And thus Philaetius gloried o'er the dead:

"There end thy pompous vaunts and high disdain; O sharp in scandal, voluble and vain! How weak is mortal pride! To Heaven alone The event of actions and our fates are known: Scoffer, behold what gratitude we bear: The victim's heel is answered with this spear."

Ulysses brandish'd high his vengeful steel, And Damastorides that instant fell: Fast by Leocritus expiring lay, The prince's javelin tore its bloody way Through all his bowels: down he tumbled prone, His batter'd front and brains besmear the stone.

Now Pallas shines confess'd; aloft she spreads The arm of vengeance o'er their guilty heads: The dreadful aegis blazes in their eye: Amazed they see, they tremble, and they fly: Confused, distracted, through he rooms they fling: Like oxen madden'd by the breeze's sting, When sultry days, and long, succeed the gentle spring, Not half so keen fierce vultures of the chase Stoop from the mountains on the feather'd race, When, the wide field extended snares beset, With conscious dread they shun the quivering net: No help, no flight; but wounded every way, Headlong they drop; the fowlers seize their prey. On all sides thus they double wound on wound, In prostrate heaps the wretches beat the ground, Unmanly shrieks precede each dying groan, And a red deluge floats the reaking stone.

Leiodes first before the victor falls: The wretched augur thus for mercy calls: "Oh gracious hear, nor let thy suppliant bleed; Still undishonoured, or by word or deed, Thy house, for me remains; by me repress'd Full oft was check'd the injustice of the rest: Averse they heard me when I counselled well, Their hearts were harden'd, and they justly fell. O spare an augur's consecrated head, Nor add the blameless to the guilty dead."

"Priest as thou art! for that detested band Thy lying prophecies deceived the land; Against Ulysses have thy vows been made, For them thy daily orisons were paid: Yet more, e'en to our bed thy pride aspires: One common crime one common fate requires."

Thus speaking, from the ground the sword he took Which Agelaus' dying hand forsook: Full through his neck the weighty falchion sped; Along the pavement roll'd the muttering head.

Phemius alone the hand of vengeance spared, Phemius the sweet, the heaven-instructed bard. Beside the gate the reverend minstrel stands; The lyre now silent trembling in his hands; Dubious to supplicate the chief, or fly To Jove's inviolable altar nigh, Where oft Laertes holy vows had paid, And oft Ulysses smoking victims laid. His honour'd harp with care he first set down, Between the laver and the silver throne; Then prostrate stretch'd before the dreadful man, Persuasive thus, with accent soft began:

"O king! to mercy be thy soul inclined, And spare the poet's ever-gentle kind. A deed like this thy future fame would wrong, For dear to gods and men is sacred song. Self-taught I sing; by Heaven, and Heaven alone, The genuine seeds of poesy are sown: And (what the gods bestow) the lofty lay To gods alone and godlike worth we pay. Save then the poet, and thyself reward! 'Tis thine to merit, mine is to record. That here I sung, was force, and not desire; This hand reluctant touch'd the warbling wire; And let thy son attest, nor sordid pay, Nor servile flattery, stain'd the moral lay."

The moving words Telemachus attends, His sire approaches, and the bard defends. "O mix not, father, with those impious dead The man divine! forbear that sacred head; Medon, the herald, too, our arms may spare, Medon, who made my infancy his care; If yet he breathes, permit thy son to give Thus much to gratitude, and bid him live."

Beneath a table, trembling with dismay, Couch'd close to earth, unhappy Medon lay, Wrapp'd in a new-slain ox's ample hide; Swift at the word he cast his screen aside, Sprung to the prince, embraced his knee with tears, And thus with grateful voice address'd his ears

"O prince! O friend! lo, here thy Medon stands Ah stop the hero's unresisted hands, Incensed too justly by that impious brood, Whose guilty glories now are set in blood." To whom Ulysses with a pleasing eye:

"Be bold, on friendship and my son rely; Live, an example for the world to read, How much more safe the good than evil deed: Thou, with the heaven-taught bard, in peace resort From blood and carnage to yon open court: Me other work requires." With timorous awe From the dire scene the exempted two withdraw, Scarce sure of life, look round, and trembling move To the bright altars of Protector Jove.

Meanwhile Ulysses search'd the dome, to find If yet there live of all the offending kind. Not one! complete the bloody tale he found, All steep'd in blood, all gasping on the ground. So, when by hollow shores the fisher-train Sweep with their arching nets the roaring main, And scarce the meshy toils the copious draught contain, All naked of their element, and bare, The fishes pant, and gasp in thinner air; Wide o'er the sands are spread the stiffening prey, Till the warm sun exhales their soul away.

And now the king commands his son to call Old Euryclea to the deathful hall: The son observant not a moment stays; The aged governess with speed obeys; The sounding portals instant they display; The matron moves, the prince directs the way. On heaps of death the stern Ulysses stood, All black with dust, and cover'd thick with blood. So the grim lion from the slaughter comes, Dreadful lie glares, and terribly he foams, His breast with marks of carnage painted o'er, His jaws all dropping with the bull's black gore.

Soon as her eyes the welcome object met, The guilty fall'n, the mighty deed complete; A scream of joy her feeble voice essay'd; The hero check'd her, and composedly said.

"Woman, experienced as thou art, control Indecent joy, and feast thy secret soul. To insult the dead is cruel and unjust; Fate and their crime have sunk them to the dust. Nor heeded these the censure of mankind, The good and bad were equal in their mind Justly the price of worthlessness they paid, And each now wails an unlamented shade. But thou sincere! O Euryclea, say, What maids dishonour us, and what obey?"

Then she: "In these thy kingly walls remain (My son) full fifty of the handmaid train, Taught by my care to cull the fleece or weave, And servitude with pleasing tasks deceive; Of these, twice six pursue their wicked way, Nor me, nor chaste Penelope obey; Nor fits it that Telemachus command (Young as he is) his mother's female band. Hence to the upper chambers let me fly Where slumbers soft now close the royal eye; There wake her with the news"—the matron cried "Not so (Ulysses, more sedate, replied), Bring first the crew who wrought these guilty deeds." In haste the matron parts: the king proceeds; "Now to dispose the dead, the care remains To you, my son, and you, my faithfull swains; The offending females to that task we doom, To wash, to scent, and purify the room; These (every table cleansed, and every throne, And all the melancholy labour done) Drive to yon court, without the palace wall, There the revenging sword shall smite them all; So with the suitors let them mix in dust, Stretch'd in a long oblivion of their lust." He said: the lamentable train appear, Each vents a groan, and drops a tender tear; Each heaved her mournful burden, and beneath The porch deposed the ghastly heap of death. The chief severe, compelling each to move, Urged the dire task imperious from above; With thirsty sponge they rub the tables o'er (The swains unite their toil); the walls, the floor, Wash'd with the effusive wave, are purged of gore. Once more the palace set in fair array, To the base court the females take their way; There compass'd close between the dome and wall (Their life's last scene) they trembling wait their fall.

Then thus the prince: "To these shall we afford A fate so pure as by the martial sword? To these, the nightly prostitutes to shame, And base revilers of our house and name?"

Thus speaking, on the circling wall he strung A ship's tough cable from a column hung; Near the high top he strain'd it strongly round, Whence no contending foot could reach the ground. Their heads above connected in a row, They beat the air with quivering feet below: Thus on some tree hung struggling in the snare, The doves or thrushes flap their wings in air. Soon fled the soul impure, and left behind The empty corse to waver with the wind.

Then forth they led Melanthius, and began Their bloody work; they lopp'd away the man, Morsel for dogs! then trimm'd with brazen shears The wretch, and shorten'd of his nose and ears; His hands and feet last felt the cruel steel: He roar'd, and torments gave his soul to hell. They wash, and to Ulysses take their way: So ends the bloody business of the day.

To Euryclea then address'd the king: ("Bring hither fire, and hither sulphur bring, To purge the palace: then the queen attend, And let her with her matron-train descend; The matron-train, with all the virgin-band, Assemble here, to learn their lord's command."

Then Euryclea: "Joyful I obey, But cast those mean dishonest rags away; Permit me first the royal robes to bring: Ill suits this garb the shoulders of a king." "Bring sulphur straight, and fire" (the monarch cries). She hears, and at the word obedient flies. With fire and sulphur, cure of noxious fumes, He purged the walls, and blood-polluted rooms. Again the matron springs with eager pace, And spreads her lord's return from place to place. They hear, rush forth, and instant round him stand, A gazing throng, a torch in every hand. They saw, they knew him, and with fond embrace Each humbly kiss'd his knee, or hand, or face; He knows them all, in all such truth appears, E'en he indulges the sweet joy of tears.



BOOK XXIII.

ARGUMENT.

Euryclea awakens Penelope with the news of Ulysses' return, and the death of the suitors. Penelope scarcely credits her; but supposes some god has punished them, and descends from her department in doubt. At the first interview of Ulysses and Penelope, she is quite unsatisfied. Minerva restores him to the beauty of his youth; but the queen continues incredulous, till by some circumstances she is convinced, and falls into all the transports of passion and tenderness. They recount to each other all that has passed during their long separation. The next morning Ulysses, arming himself and his friends, goes from the city to visit his father.



Then to the queen, as in repose she lay, The nurse with eager rapture speeds her way: The transports of her faithful heart supply A sudden youth, and give her wings to fly.

"And sleeps my child? (the reverend matron cries) Ulysses lives! arise, my child, arise! At length appears the long-expected hour! Ulysses comes! the suitors are no more! No more they view the golden light of day! Arise, and bless thee with the glad survey?"

Touch'd at her words, the mournful queen rejoin'd: "Ah! whither wanders thy distemper'd mind? The righteous powers, who tread the starry skies, The weak enlighten, and confound the wise, And human thought, with unresisted sway, Depress or raise, enlarge or take away: Truth, by their high decree, thy voice forsakes, And folly with the tongue of wisdom speaks. Unkind, the fond illusion to impose! Was it to flatter or deride my woes? Never did I sleep so sweet enjoy, Since my dear lord left Ithaca for Troy. Why must I wake to grieve, and curse thy shore, O Troy?—may never tongue pronounce thee more! Begone! another might have felt our rage, But age is sacred, and we spare thy age."

To whom with warmth: "My soul a lie disdains; Ulysses lives, thy own Ulysses reigns: That stranger, patient of the suitors' wrongs, And the rude license of ungovern'd tongues! He, he is thine! Thy son his latent guest Long knew, but lock'd the secret in his breast: With well concerted art to end his woes, And burst at once in vengeance on the foes."

While yet she spoke, the queen in transport sprung Swift from the couch, and round the matron hung; Fast from her eye descends the rolling tear: "Say, once more say, is my Ulysses here? How could that numerous and outrageous band By one be slain, though by a hero's hand?"

"I saw it not (she cries), but heard alone, When death was busy, a loud dying groan; The damsel-train turn'd pale at every wound, Immured we sate, and catch'd each passing sound; When death had seized her prey, thy son attends, And at his nod the damsel-train descends; There terrible in arms Ulysses stood, And the dead suitors almost swam in blood: Thy heart had leap'd the hero to survey, Stern as the surly lion o'er his prey, Glorious in gore, now with sulphereous fire The dome he purges, now the flame aspires; Heap'd lie the dead without the palace walls— Haste, daughter, haste, thy own Ulysses calls! Thy every wish the bounteous gods bestow; Enjoy the present good, and former woe. Ulysses lives, his vanquish'd foes to see; He lives to thy Telemachus and thee!"

"Ah, no! (with sighs Penelope rejoin'd,) Excess of joy disturbs thy wandering mind; How blest this happy hour, should he appear, Dear to us all, to me supremely dear; Ah, no! some god the suitors death decreed, Some god descends, and by his hand they bleed; Blind! to contemn the stranger's righteous cause, And violate all hospitable laws! The good they hated, and the powers defied! But heaven is just, and by a god they died. For never must Ulysses view this shore; Never! the loved Ulysses is no more!"

"What words (the matron cries) have reach'd my ears? Doubt we his presence, when he now appears! Then hear conviction: Ere the fatal day That forced Ulysses o'er the watery way, A boar, fierce rushing in the sylvan war, Plough'd half his thigh; I saw, I saw the scar, And wild with transport had reveal'd the wound; But ere I spoke, he rose, and check'd the sound. Then, daughter, haste away! and if a lie Flow from this tongue, then let thy servant die!" To whom with dubious joy the queen replies: "Wise is thy soul, but errors seize the wise; The works of gods what mortal can survey? Who knows their motives, who shall trace their way? But learn we instant how the suitors trod The paths of death, by man, or by a god." Thus speaks the queen, and no reply attends, But with alternate joy and fear descends; At every step debates her lord to prove; Or, rushing to his arms, confess her love! Then gliding through the marble valves, in state Opposed, before the shining sire she sate. The monarch, by a column high enthroned, His eye withdrew, and fix'd it on the ground; Curious to hear his queen the silence break: Amazed she sate, and impotent to speak; O'er all the man her eyes she rolls in vain, Now hopes, now fears, now knows, then doubts again. At length Telemachus: "Oh, who can find A woman like Penelope unkind? Why thus in silence? why with winning charms Thus slow to fly with rapture to his arms? Stubborn the breast that with no transport glows, When twice ten years are pass'd of mighty woes; To softness lost, to spousal love unknown, The gods have formed that rigid heart of stone!" "O my Telemachus! (the queen rejoin'd,) Distracting fears confound my labouring mind; Powerless to speak. I scarce uplift my eyes, Nor dare to question; doubts on doubts arise. Oh deign he, if Ulysses, to remove These boding thoughts, and what he is, to prove!" Pleased with her virtuous fears, the king replies: "Indulge, my son, the cautions of the wise; Time shall the truth to sure remembrance bring: This garb of poverty belies the king: No more. This day our deepest care requires, Cautious to act what thought mature inspires. If one man's blood, though mean, distain our hands, The homicide retreats to foreign lands; By us, in heaps the illustrious peerage falls, The important deed our whole attention calls."

"Be that thy care (Telemachus replies) The world conspires to speak Ulysses wise; For wisdom all is thine! lo, I obey, And dauntless follow where you led the way; Nor shalt thou in the day of danger find Thy coward son degenerate lag behind."

"Then instant to the bath (the monarch cries), Bid the gay youth and sprightly virgins rise, Thence all descend in pomp and proud array, And bid the dome resound the mirthful lay; While the sweet lyrist airs of rapture sings, And forms the dance responsive to the strings, That hence the eluded passengers may say, 'Lo! the queen weds! we hear the spousal lay!' The suitor's death, unknown, till we remove Far from the court, and act inspired by Jove."

Thus spoke the king: the observant train obey, At once they bathe, and dress in proud array: The lyrist strikes the string; gay youths advance, And fair-zoned damsels form the sprightly dance. The voice, attuned to instrumental sounds, Ascends the roof, the vaulted roof rebounds; Not unobserved: the Greeks eluded say, "Lo! the queen weds, we hear the spousal lay! Inconstant! to admit the bridal hour." Thus they—but nobly chaste she weds no more.