"Alas!" (Eumæus with a sigh rejoin'd) "How sprung a thought so monstrous in thy mind! If on that godless race thou would'st attend, Fate owes thee sure a miserable end!
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Their wrongs and blasphemies ascend the sky, And pull descending vengeance from on high. Not such, my friend, the servants of their feast; A blooming train in rich embroidery drest, With Earth's whole tribute the bright table bends, And smiling round celestial youth attends. Stay then: no eye askance beholds thee here: Sweet is thy converse to each social ear; Well pleas'd, and pleasing, in our cottage rest, Till good Telemachus accepts his guest With genial gifts, and change of fair attires, And safe conveys thee where thy soul desires." To him the man of woes: O gracious Jove! Reward this stranger's hospitable love! Who knows the son of sorrow to relieve, Cheers the sad heart, nor lets affliction grieve. Of all the ills unhappy mortals know, A life of wanderings is the greatest woe: On all their weary paths wait care and pain, And pine and penury, a meagre train. To such a man since harbour you afford, Relate the farther fortunes of your lord; What cares his mother's tender breast engage, And sire forsaken on the verge of age; Beneath the Sun prolong they yet their breath, Or range the house of darkness and of death?" To whom the swain: "Attend what you inquire; Laertes lives, the miserable sire
Lives, but implores of every power to lay The burden down, and wishes for the day. Torn from his offspring in the eve of life, Torn from th' embraces of his tender wife, Sole, and all comfortless, he wastes away Old age, untimely posting ere his day. She too, sad mother! for Ulysses lost Pin'd out her bloom, and vanish'd to a ghost. (So dire a fate, ye righteous gods! avert, From every friendly, every feeling heart!) While yet she was, though clouded o'er with grief, Her pleasing converse minister'd relief: With Ctimene, her youngest daughter, bred, One roof contain'd us, and one table fed. But when the softly-stealing pace of time Crept on from childhood into youthful prime, To Samos' isle she sent the wedded fair; Me to the fields, to tend the rural care; Array'd in garments her own hands had wove, Nor less the darling object of her love. Her hapless death my brighter days o'ercast, Yet Providence deserts me not at last; My present labours food and drink procure, And more, the pleasure to relieve the poor. Small is the comfort from the queen to hear Unwelcome news, or vex the royal ear; Blank and discountenanc'd the servants stand, Nor dare to question where the proud command: No profit springs beneath usurping powers; Want feeds not there, where luxury devours, Nor harbours charity where riot reigns: Proud are the lords, and wretched are the swains."
The suffering chief at this began to melt; And, "O Eumæus! thou" (he cries) " hast felt The spite of Fortune too! her cruel hand Snatch'd thee an infant from thy native land! Snatch'd from thy parents' arms, thy parents' eyes, To early wants! a man of miseries!
Thy whole sad story, from its first, declare: Sunk the fair city by the rage of war, Where once thy parents dwelt? or did they keep, In humbler life, the lowing herds and sheep? So left perhaps to tend the fleecy train, Rude pirates seiz'd, and shipp'd thee o'er the main? Doom'd a fair prize to grace some prince's board, The worthy purchase of a foreign lord."
"If then my fortunes can delight my friend, A story fruitful of events attend: Another's sorrows may thy ear enjoy, And wine the lengthen'd intervals employ. Long nights the now declining year bestows; A part we consecrate to soft repose, A part in pleasing talk we entertain; For too much rest itself becomes a pain. Let those, whom sleep invites, the call obey, Their cares resuming with the dawning day: Here let us feast, and to the feast be join'd Discourse, the sweeter banquet of the mind; Review the series of our lives, and taste The melancholy joy of evils past: For he who much has suffer'd, much will know; And pleas'd remembrance builds delight on woe,
"Above Ortygia lies an isle of fame, Far hence remote, and Syria is the name (There curious eyes inscrib'd with wonder trace The Sun's diurnal, and his annual race); Not large, but fruitful; stor'd with grass, to keep The bellowing oxen, and the bleating sheep; Her sloping hills the mantling vines adorn, And her rich valleys wave with golden corn. No want, no famine, the glad natives know, Nor sink by sickness to the shades below; But when a length of years unnerves the strong, Apollo comes, and Cynthia comes along. They bend the silver bow with tender skill, And, void of pain, the silent arrows kill. Two equal tribes this fertile land divide, Where two fair cities rise with equal pride. But both in constant peace one prince obey, And Ctesius there, my father, holds the sway. Freighted, it seems, with toys of every sort A ship of Sidon anchor'd in our port; What time it chanc'd the palace entertain'd, Skill'd in rich works, a woman of their land: This nymph, where anchor'd the Phœnician train To wash her robes descending to the main, A smooth-tongued sailor won her to his mind (For love deceives the best of woman-kind). A sudden trust from sudden liking grew; She told her name, her race, and all she knew.
I too' (she cried) ' from glorious Sidon came, My father Arybas, of wealthy fame; But, snatch'd by pirates from my native place, The Taphians sold me to this man's embrace.'
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Haste then," (the false designing youth re. ply'd) Haste to thy country; love shall be thy guide; Haste to thy father's house, thy father's breast, For still he lives, and lives with riches blest.'
""Swear first," she cried, 'ye sailors! to restore A wretch in safety to her native shore.' Swift as she ask'd, the ready sailors swore. She then proceeds: 'Now let our compact made Be nor by signal nor by word betray'd, Nor near me any of your crew descried By road frequented, nor by fountain side. Be silence still our guard. The monarch's spies (For watchful age is ready to surmise)
Are still at hand; and this, reveal'd, must be Death to yourselves, eternal chains to me. Your vessel loaded, and your traffic past, Dispatch a wary messenger with haste: Then gold and costly treasures will I bring, And more, the infant offspring of the king. Him, child-like wandering forth, I'll lead away, (A noble prize!) and to your ship convey.'
"Thus spoke the dame, and homeward took the A year they traffic, and their vessel load, [road. Their stores complete, and ready now to weigh, A spy was sent their summons to convey: An artist to my father's palace came, With gold and amber chains, elaborate frame: Each female eye the glittering links employ, They turn, review, and cheapen every toy. He took the occasion, as they stood intent, Gave her the sign, and to his vessel went. She straight pursued, and seiz'd my willing arm; I followed smiling, innocent of harm. Three golden goblets in the porch she found (The guests not enter'd, but the table crown'd); Hid in her fraudful bosom, these she bore : Now set the Sun, and darkened all the shore. Arriving then, where tilting on the tides Prepar'd to lanch the freighted vessel rides; Aboard they heave us, mount their decks, and With level oar along the glassy deep. Six calmy days and six smooth nights we sail, And constant Jove supplied the gentle gale. The seventh, the fraudful wretch, (no cause de- Touch'd by Diana's vengeful arrow, died. (scried) Down dropp'd the caitiff-corse, a worthless load, Down to the deep; there roll'd, the future food Of fierce sea-wolves, and monsters of the flood. An helpless infant, I remain'd behind; Thence borne to Ithaca by wave and wind; Sold to Laertes, by divine command, And now adopted to a foreign land."
To him the king: "Reciting thus thy cares, My secret soul in all thy sorrows shares: But one choice blessing (such is Jove's high will) Has sweeten'd all thy bitter draught of ill: Torn from thy country to no hapless end, The gods have, in a master, given a friend. Whatever frugal Nature needs is thine, (For she needs little) daily bread and wine. While I, so many wanderings past and woes, Live but on what thy poverty bestows."
So pass'd in pleasing dialogue away
The night; then down to short repose they lay; Till radiant rose the messenger of day, While in the port of Ithaca, the band Of young Telemachus approach'd the land; The sails they loos'd, they lash'd the mast aside, And cast their anchors, and the cables tied: Then on the breezy shore descending join In grateful banquet o'er the rosy wine. When thus the prince : "Now each his course I to the fields, and to the city you, [pursue; Long absent hence, I dedicate this day My swains to visit, and the works survey. Expect me with the morn, to pay the skies Our debt of safe return, in feast and sacrifice." Then Theoclymenus: "But who shall lend, Meantime, protection to thy stranger-friend? Straight to the queen and palace shall I fly, Or, yet more distant, to some lord apply?" The prince return'd: " Renown'd in days of yore Has stood our father's hospitable door;
No other roof a stranger should receive, No other hands than ours the welcome give. But in my absence riot fills the place, Nor bears the modest queen a stranger's face; From noiseful revel far remote she flies, But rarely seen, or seen with weeping eyes. No-let Eurymachus receive my guest, Of nature courteous, and by far the best; He wooes the queen with more respectful flame, And emulates her former husband's fame: With what success, 'tis Jove's alone to know, And the hop'd nuptials turn to joy or woe."
Thus speaking, on the right up-soar'd in air The hawk, Apollo's swift-wing'd messenger; His deathful pounces tore a trembling dove; The clotted feathers, scatter'd from above, Between the hero and the vessel pour Thick plúmage, mingled with a sanguine shower.
Th' observing augur took the prince aside, Seiz'd by the hand, and thus prophetic cried: "Yon bird that dexter cuts th' aërial road, Rose ominous, nor flies without a god: No race but thine shall Ithaca obey, To thine, for ages, Heaven decrees the sway." "Succeed the omen, gods!" (the youth rejoin'd) Soon shall my bounties speak a grateful mind, And soon each envied happiness attend The man, who calls Telemachus his friend." Then to Peiræus-" Thou whom time has prov'd A faithful servant, by thy prince belov'd! Till we returning shall our guest deinand, Accept this charge with honour at our hand."
To this Peiræus: "Joyful I obey, Well pleas'd the hospitable rites to pay, The presence of thy guest shall best reward (If long thy stay) the absence of my lord."
With that their anchors he commands to weigh, Mount the tall bark, and lanch into the sea. All with obedient haste forsake the shores, And, plac'd in order, spread their equal oars. Then from the deck the prince his sandals takes; Pois'd in his hand the pointed javelin shakes. They part; while, lessening from the hero's view, Swift to the town the well-row'd galley flew : The hero trod the margin of the main,
And reach'd the mansion of his faithful swain.
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The prince's near approach the dogs descry, And fawning round his feet confess their joy. Their gentle blandishment the king survey'd, Heard his resounding step, and instant said:
"Some well-known friend, Eumæus, bends this His steps I hear; the dogs familiar play." (way; While yet he spoke, the prince advancing drew Nigh to the lodge, and now appear'd in view. Transported from his seat Eumæus sprung, Dropp'd the full bowl, and round his bosom hung; Kissing his cheek, his hand, while from his eye The tears rain'd copious in a shower of joy. As some fond sire, who ten long winters grieves, From foreign climes an only son receives, (Child of his age) with strong paternal joy Forward he springs, and clasps the favourite boy: So round the youth his arms Eumæus spread, As if the grave had given him from the dead. "And is it thou! my ever-dear delight! Oh, art thou come to bless my longing sight! Never, I never hop'd to view this day, When o'er the waves you plough'd the desperate Enter, my child! beyond my hopes restor'd, Oh give these eyes to feast upon their lord! Enter, oh seldom seen! for lawless powers Too much detain thee from thy sylvan bowers."
The prince replied: "Eumæus, I obey; To seek thee, friend, I hither took my way. But say, if in the court the queen reside, Severely chaste, or if comtnenc'd a bride ?"
Thus he: and thus the monarch of the swains: "Severely chaste Penelope remains; But, lost to every joy, she wastes the day In tedious cares, and weeps the night away." He ended; and (receiving as they pass The javelin, pointed with a star of brass) They reach'd the dome; the dome with marble His seat Ulysses to the prince resign'd. [shin'd. "Not so"-(exclaim'd the prince with decent grace) "For me, this house shall find an humbler place: T' usurp the honours due to silver hairs
And reverend strangers, modest youth forbears." Instant the swain the spoils of beasts supplies, And bids the rural throne with oziers rise. There sate the prince: the feast Eumæus spread, And heap'd the shining canisters with bread. Thick o'er the board the plenteous viands lay, The frugal remnants of the former day. Then in a bowl he tempers generous wines, Around whose verge a mimic ivy twines. And now, the rage of thirst and hunger fled, Thus young Ulysses to Eumæns said:
Whence, father, from what shore this stranger, What vessel bore him o'er the watery way? (say, To human step our land impervious lies, And round the coast circumfluent oceans rise."
The swain returns: "A tale of sorrows hear: In spacious Crete he drew his natal air,
Long doom'd to wander o'er the land and main, For Heaven has wove his thread of life with pain. Half-breathless 'scaping to the land he flew From Thesprot mariners, a murderous crew. To thee, my son, the suppliant I resign, I gave him my protection, grant him thine."
"Hard task," he cries, "thy virtue gives thy
Willing to aid, unable to defend. Can strangers safely in the court reside, 'Midst the swell'd insolence of lust and pride? Ev'n I unsafe: the queen in doubt to wed,
Or pay due honours to the nuptial bed:
Perhaps she weds regardless of her fame, Deaf to the mighty Ulyssæan name. However, stranger, from our grace receive Such honours as befit a prince to give; Sandals, a sword, and robes, respect to prove, And safe to sail with ornaments of love. Till then, thy guest amid the rural train, Far from the court, from danger far, detain. 'Tis mine with food the hungry to supply, And clothe the naked from th' inclement sky. Here dwell in safety from the suitors' wrongs, And the rude insults of ungovern'd tongues. For, should'st thou suffer, powerless to relieve, I must behold it, and can only grieve. The brave encompass'd by an hostile train, O'erpower'd by numbers, is but brave in vain."
To whom, while anger in his bosom glows, With warmth replies the man of mighty woes: "Since audience mild is deign'd, permit my tongue
At once to pity and resent thy wrong. My heart weeps blood to see a soul so brave Live to base insolence of power a slave. But tell me, dost thou, prince, dost thou behold, And hear, their midnight revels uncontrol'd? Say, do thy subjects in bold faction rise,
Or priests in fabled oracles advise?
Or are thy brothers, who should aid thy power, Turn'd mean deserters in the needful hour? Oh! that I were from great Ulysses sprung, Or that these wither'd nerves like thine were strung; Or, Heavens! might he return! (and soon appear He shall, I trust: a hero scorns despair!) Might he return, I yield my life a prey To my worst foe, if that avenging day Be not their last: but should I lose my life Oppress'd by numbers in the glorious strife, I choose the nobler part, and yield my breath, Rather than bear dishonour, worse than death; Than see the hand of violence invade
The reverend stranger, and the spotless maid; Than see the wealth of kings consum'd in waste, The drunkard revel, and the gluttons feast."
Thus he, with anger flashing from his eye; Sincere the youthful hero made reply: "Nor leagued in factious arms my subjects rise, Nor priests in fabled oracles advise; Nor are my brothers who should aid my power Turn'd mean deserters in the needful hour. Ah me! I boast no brother; Heaven's dread king Gives from our stock an only branch to spring: Alone Laertes reign'd Arcesius' heir, Alone Ulysses drew the vital air, And I alone the bed connubial grac'd, An unblest offspring of a sire unblest!
Each neighbouring realm, conducive to our woe, Sends forth her peers, and every peer a foe: The court proud Samos and Dulichium fills. And lofty Zacinth crown'd with shady hills, Ev'n Ithaca and all her lords invade
Th' imperial sceptre, and the regal bed : The queen, averse to love, yet aw'd by power, Seems half to yield, yet flies the bridal hour! Meantime their licence uncontrol'd I bear; Ev'n now they envy me the vital air: But Heaven will sure revenge, and gods there are. "But go, Eumæus! to the queen impart Our safe return, and ease a mother's heart. Yet secret go; for numerous are my foes, And here at least I may in peace repose."
To whom the swain: "I hear, and I obey:
But old Laertes weeps his life away,
And deems thee lost: shall I my speed employ To bless his age; a messenger of joy? The mournful hour that tore his son away Sent the sad sire in solitude to stray;
Yet, busied with his slaves, to ease his woe, He dress'd the vine, and bade the garden blow, Nor food nor wine refus'd: but since the day That you to Pylos plough'd the watery way, Nor wine nor food he tastes; but sunk in woes, Wild springs the vine, no more the garden blows: Shut from the walks of men to pleasure lost, Pensive and pale he wanders, half a ghost."
"Wretched old man!" (with tears the prince returns)
"Yet cease to go-what man so blest but mourns? Were every wish indulg'd by favouring skies, This hour should give Ulysses to my eyes. But to the queen with speed dispatchful bear Our safe return, and back with And let same handmaid of her train resort speed repair: To good Laertes in his rural court."
While yet he spoke, impatient of delay, He braced his sandals on, and strode away : Then from the Heavens the martial goddess flies Through the wide fields of air, and cleaves the skies; In form a virgin in soft beauty's bloom, Skill'd in th' illustrious labours of the loom. Alone to Ithacus she stood display'd, But unapparent as a viewless shade Escap'd Telemachus (the powers above, Seen or unseen, o'er earth at pleasure move): The dogs intelligent confess the tread
Of power divine; and, howling, trembling, fled. The goddess, beckoning, waves her deathless hands; Dauntless the king before the goddess stands.
"Then why," (she said) "O favour'd of the skies! Why to thy godlike son this long disguise ? Stand forth reveal'd: with him thy cares employ Against thy foes; be valiant, and destroy! Lo! I descend in that avenging hour,
To combat by thy side, thy guardian power."
She said, and o'er him waves her wand of gold; Imperial robes his manly limbs infold;
At once with grace divine his fame improves :
At once with majesty enlarg'd he moves: Youth flush'd his reddening cheek, and from his
A length of hair in sable ringlets flows;
His blackening chin receives a deeper shade; Then from his eyes upsprung the warrior-maid.
The hero re-ascends: the prince o'er aw'd Scarce lifts his eyes, and bows as to a god. Then with surprise (surprise chastis'd by fears) "How art thou chang'd!" (he cry'd) 'd) "a god
Far other vests thy limbs majestic grace, Far other glories lighten from thy face! If Heaven be thy abode, with pious care Io! I the ready sacrifice prepare: Lo! gifts of labour'd gold adorn thy shrine, To win thy grace: Oh save us, power divine!" "Few are my days," Ulysses made reply, "Nor I alas! descendant of the sky. I am thy father. Oh my son! my son! That father, for whose sake thy days have run One scene of woe; to endless cares consign'd, And outrag'd by the wrongs of base mankind." Then rushing to his arms, he kiss'd his boy With the strong raptures of a parent's joy.
Tears bathe his cheek, and tears the ground be- dew:
He strain'd him close, as to his breast he grew. "Ah me!" (exclaims the prince with fond desire) "Thou art-no, thou can'st not be my sire. Heaven such illusion only can impose, By the false joy to aggravate my woes. Who but a god can change the general doom, And give to wither'd age a youthful bloom? Late, worn with years, in weeds obscene you
Now, cloth'd in majesty, you move a god!" " Forbear," he cry'd; "for Heaven reserve that Give to thy father, but a father's claim: [name, Other Ulysses shalt thou never see, Twice ten sad years o'er earth and ocean tost, I am Ulysses, I (my son) am he. 'Tis given at length to view my native coast. Pallas, unconquer'd maid, my frame surrounde With grace divine; her power admits no bounds: She o'er my limbs old age and wrinkles shed; Now, strong as youth, magnificent I tread. The gods with ease frail man depress or raise, Exalt the lowly, or the proud debase."
He spoke, and sate. The prince with transport Nor less the father pour'd a social flood! [fnew, Hung round his neck, while tears his cheek bedew: They wept abundant, and they wept aloud. As the bold eagle with fierce sorrow stung, Or parent vulture, mourns her ravish'd young : They cry, they scream, their unfledg'd brood a prey To some rude churl, and borne by stealth away; So they aloud: and tears in tides had run, Their grief unfinish'd with the setting Sun: But checking the full torrent in its flow, The prince thus interrupts the solemn
And what bless'd hands have oar'd thee on the way?" What ship transported thee, O father, say, All, all" (Ulysses instant made reply)
I tell thee all, my child, my only joy! Phæacians bore me to the port assign'd, A nation ever to the stranger kind;
Wrapp'd in th' embrace of sleep, the faithful train O'er seas convey'd me to my native reign; Embroider'd vestures, gold, and brass, are laid Conceal'd in caverns in the sylvan shade. Hither, intent the rival rout to slay, And plan the scene of death, I bend my way: So Pallas wills-but thou, my son, explain The names and numbers of th' audacious train; 'Tis mine to judge if better to employ Assistant force, or singly to destroy."
"O'erearth" (returns the prince) "resounds thy Thy well-tried wisdom, and thy martial fame, Yet at thy words I start, in wonder lost ; Can we engage, not decads, but an host? Can we alone in furious battle stand, Against that numerous and determin'd band? Hear then their numbers from Dulichium came Twice twenty-six, all peers of mighty name, Six are their menial train: twice twelve the boast Of Samos; twenty from Zacynthus coast: And twelve our country's pride: to these belong Medon and Phemius skill'd in heavenly song. Two sewers from day to day the revels wait, Exact of taste, and serve the feast in state. With such a foe th' unequal fight to try, Were by false courage unreveng'd to die. Then what assistant powers you boast, relate, Ere yet we mingle in the stern debate."
"Mark well my voice," Ulysses straight replies : With speed they guide the vessel to the shores;
"What need of aids, if favour'd by the skies? If shielded to the dreadful fight we move, By mighty Pallas, and by thundering Jove." "Sufficient they" (Telemachus rejoin'd) Against the banded powers of all mankind: They, high enthron'd above the rolling clouds, Wither the strength of man, and awe the gods.”
"Such aids expect," he cries, "when strong in We rise terrific to the task of fight.
But thou, when morn salutes th' aërial plain,
The court revisit and the lawless train:
Me thither in disguise Eumæus leads, An aged mendicant in tatter'd weeds.
There, if base scorn insult my reverend age; Bear it my son! repress thy rising rage. If outrag'd, cease that outrage to repel; Bear it my son! howe'er thy heart rebel. Yet strive by prayer and counsel to restrain Their lawless insults, though thou strive in vain : For wicked ears are deaf to wisdom's call, [fall. And vengeance strikes whom Heaven has doom'd to Once more attend: when she1 whose power inspires The thinking mind, my soul to vengeance fires; I give the sign: that instant, from beneath, Aloft convey the instruments of death, Armour and arms; and if mistrust arise, Thus veil the truth in plausible disguise :
""These glittering weapons, ere he sail'd to
Ulysses view'd with stern heroic joy: Then, beaming o'er th' illumin'd wall they shone : Now dust dishonours, all their lustre gone. I bear them hence (so Jove my soul inspires) From the pollution of the fuming fires; Lest, when the bowl inflames, in vengeful mood Ye rush to arms, and stain the feast with blood: Oft ready swords in luckless hour incite The hand of wrath, and arm it for the fight."
"Such be the plea, and by the plea deceive : For Jove infatuates all, and all believe. Yet leave for each of us a sword to wield, A pointed javelin, and a fenceful shield. But by my blood that in thy bosom glows, By that regard, a son his father owes; The secret, that thy father lives, retain Lock'd in thy bosom from the household train; Hide it from all; even from Eumæus hide, From my dear father, and my dearer bride. One care remains, to note the loyal few Whose faith yet lasts among the menial crew; And, noting, ere we rise in vengeance, prove W'ho loves his prince; for sure you merit love."
To whom the youth: "To emulate I aim The brave and wise, and my great father's fame. But re-consider, since the wisest err, Vengeance resolv'd, 'tis dangerous to defer. What length of time must we consume in vain, Too curious to explore the menial train ? While the proud foes, industrious to destroy Thy wealth in riot, the delay enjoy. Suffice it in this exigence alone
To mark the damsels that attend the throne; Dispers'd the youth resides; their faith to prove Jove grants henceforth, if thou hast spoke from
While in debate they waste the hours away, Th' associates of the prince repass'd the bay;
With speed debarking land the naval stores; Then, faithful to their charge, to Clytius bear, And trusts the presents to his friendly care. Swift to the queen a herald flies t' impart Her son's return, and ease a parent's heart; Lest, a sad prey to ever-musing cares, Pale grief destroy what time awhile forbears. Th' uncautious herald with impatience burns, And cries aloud: "Thy son, O queen, returns:" Eumæus sage approach'd the imperial throne, And breath'd his mandate to her ear alone, Then measur'd back the way-The suitor band, Stung to the soul, abash'd, confounded, stand; And issuing from the dome, before the gate, With clouded looks, a pale assembly sate.
At length Eurymachus: "Our hopes are vain; Telemachus in triumph sails the main. Haste, near the mast the swelling shroud display; Haste, to our ambush'd friends the news convey."
Scarce had he spoke, when, turning to the strand, Amphinomus survey'd th' associate band; Full to the bay within the winding shores With gather'd sails they stood, and lifted oars. "O friends!" he cry'd, "elate with rising joy, See to the port secure the vessel fly! Some god has told them, or themselves survey The bark escap'd; and measure back their way."
Swift at the word descending to the shores, They moor the vessel and unlade the stores: Then moving from the strand, apart they sate, And full and frequent, form'd a dire debate. "Lives then the boy?" "He lives," (Antinous cries)
"The care of gods and favourite of the skies. All night we watch'd, till with her orient wheels Aurora flam'd above the eastern hills,
And from the lofty brow of rocks by day Took in the ocean with a broad survey, Yet safe he sails! the powers celestial give To shun the hidden snares of death, and live. But die he shall, and thus condemn'd to bleed, Be now the scene of instant death decreed: Hope ye success? undaunted crush the foe. Is he not wise?, know this, and strike the blow. Wait ye till he to arms in council draws The Greeks, averse too justly to our cause? Strike ere, the states conven'd, the foe betray Our murderous ambush on the watery way. Or choose ye vagrant from their rage to fly Outcasts of earth, to breathe an unknown sky? The brave prevent misfortunes; then be brave, And bury future danger in his grave. Returns he? ambush'd we'll his walk invade, Or where he hides in solitude and shade: And give the palace to the queen a dower, Or him she blesses in the bridal hour. But if submissive you resign the sway, Slaves to a boy; go, flatter and obey. Retire we instant to our native reign, Nor be the wealth of kings consum'd in vain; Then wed whom choice approves: the queen be
To some blest prince, the prince decrced by Heaven." Abash'd, the suitor train his voice attends; Till from his throne Amphinomus ascends, Who o'er Dulichium stretch'd his spacious reign, A land of plenty, blest with every grain: Chief of the numbers who the queen address'd, And though displeasing, yet displeasing least.
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