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
The 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 Laërtes' bed
Was new 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
Amphithea's arms received the royal heir:
Her ancient lord1 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, 1 Autolycus.
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 rush'd with agonizing pain;
With joy and vast surprise, th' 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, th' 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 expressed
Of grief and joy, alternate in her breast.
EURYCLEA DISCOVERS ULYSSES.
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 pass'd 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 th' 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 oppression 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 winged 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 return'd:
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:
|