HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XVII.

Soft were his words; his actions wisdom sway'd;
Graceful awhile he paus'd, then mildly said:

"O friends, forbear! and be the thought with

stood:

'Tis horrible to shed imperial blood !
Consult we first th' allseeing powers above,
Atid the sure oracles of righteous Jove.
If they assent, ev'n by his hand he dies;
If they forbid, I war not with the skies."
He said; the rival train his voice approv'd,
And rising instant to the palace mov'd.
Arriv'd, with wild tumultuous noise they sate,
Recumbent on the shining thrones of state.

Then Medon, conscious of their dire debates,
The murderous council to the queen relates.
Touch'd at the dreadful story she descends :
Her hasty steps a damsel-train attends.
Full where the dome its shining valves expands,
Sudden before the rival powers she stands :
And, veiling decent with a modest shade
Her check, indignant to Antinous said:

"O void of faith! of all bad men the worst!
Renown'd for wisdom, by th' abuse accurs'd!
Mistaking fame proclaims thy generous mind!
Thy deeds denote thee of the basest kind.
Wretch! to destroy a prince that friendship gives,
While in his guest his murderer he receives :
Nor dread superior Jove, to whom belong
The cause of suppliants, and revenge of wrong.
Hast thou forgot (ingrateful as thou art)
Who sav'd thy father with a friendly part?
Lawless he ravag'd with his martial powers
The Taphian pirates on Threspotia's shores;
Enrag'd, his life, his treasures they demand;
Ulysses sav'd him from th' avengers' hand.
And would'st thou evil for his good repay?
His bed dishonour and his house betray?
Afflict his queen? and with a murderous hand
Destroy his heir? but cease, 'tis I command."
"Far hence those fears," (Eurymachus re-

ply'd)

"O prudent princess! bid thy soul confide.
Breathes there a man who dares that hero slay,
While I behold the golden light of day?
No: by the righteous powers of Heaven I swear,
His blood in vengeance smokes upon my spear.
Ulysses, when my infant days I led,

241

When near he drew the prince breaks forth:

"Proclaim

What tidings, friend? what speaks the voice of
Say if the suitors measure back the main, [fame?
Or still in ambush thirst for blood in vain ?"

Whether," he cries, "they measure back the
Or still in ambush thirst in vain for blood, [flood,
Escap'd my care: where lawless suitors sway,
Thy mandate borne, my soul disdain'd to stay.
But from th' Hermæan height I cast a view,
Where to the port a bark high bounding flew;
Her freight a shining band: with martial air
Each pois'd his shield, and each advanc'd his spear:
And,
if aright these searching eyes survey,
Th' eluded suitors stem the watery way.

With wine suffic'd me, and with dainties fed :
My generous soul abhors th' ungrateful part,
And my friend's son lives dearest to my heart.
Then fear no mortal arm; if Heaven destroy,
We must resign: for man is born to die."
Then sorrowing, with sad step the queen retir'd,
Thus smooth he ended, yet his death conspir'd:
With streaming eyes all comfortless deplor'd,
Touch'd with the dear remembrance of her lord :
Nor ceas'd till Pallas bid her sorrows fly,
And in soft slumber seal'd her flowing eye.
And now Eumeus, at the evening hour,
Came late returning to his sylvan bower.
Ulysses and his son had dress'd with art
A yearling boar, and gave the gods their part,
Holy repast! that instant from the skies
The martial goddess to Ulysses flies:
She waves her golden wand, and re-assumes
From every feature every grace that blooms;
At once his vestures change; at once she sheds
Age o'er his limbs, that tremble as he treads;
Last to the queen the swain with transport fly,
Unable to contain th' unruly joy.

VOL XIX.

The prince, well pleas'd to disappoint their wiles,
Steals on his sire a glance, and secret smiles.
And now, a short repast prepar'd, they fed,
Till the keen rage of craving hunger fled,
Then to repose withdrawn, apart they lay,
And in soft sleep forgot the cares of day.

THE ODYSSEY.

JOOK XVII.

ARGUMENT.

TELEMACHUS returning to the city relates to Penelope the sum of his travels. Ulysses is con ducted by Eummus to the palace, where his old dog Argus acknowledges his master, after an absence of twenty years, and dies with joy. Eumæus returns into the country, and Ulysses remains among the suitors whose behaviour is described.

Soon as Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
Sprinkled with roseate light the dewy lawn;
In haste the prince arose, prepar'd to part;
His hand impatient grasps the pointed dart;
Fair on his feet the polish'd sandals shine,
And thus he greets the master of the swine:

"My friend, adieu; let this short stay suffice;

I haste to meet my mother's longing eyes,
And end her tears, her sorrows, and her sighs.
But thou, attentive, what we order heed;
And bless the hand that stretches forth the bread.
This hapless stranger to the city lead;
By public bounty let him there be fed,

To wipe the tears from all afflicted eyes,
My will may covet, but my power denies.
If this raise anger in the stranger's thought,
The pain of anger punishes the fault:
The very truth I undisguis'd declare;
For what so easy as to be sincere ?"

To this Ulysses: "What the prince requires
Of swift removal, seconds my desires.
To want like mine the peopled town can yield
More hopes of comfort than the lonely field,
Nor fits my age to till the labour'd lands,
Or stoop to tasks a rural lord demands.
Adieu! but, since this ragged garb can bear
So ill th' inclemencies of morning air,
A few hours' space permit me here to stay;
My steps Eumæus shall to town convey,
With riper beams when Phœbus warms the day."

R

1

Then disarray'd, the shining bath they sought, (With unguents smooth) of polish'd marble

role

arew, ew,

piles

id

Ulysses lies; detain'd by magic charms,
And press'd unwilling in Calypso's arms.
No sailors there, no vessel to convey,
Nor oars to cut th' immeasurable way-
This told Atrides and he told no more,
Thence safe I voyag'd to any native shore."

He ceas'd; nor made the pensive queen reply,
But droop'd her head, and drew a secret sigh.
When Theoclymenus the seer began :
"O suffering consort of the suffering man!
What human knowledge could, those kings might
But I the secrets of high Heaven reveal.
Before the first of gods be this declar'd,
Before the board whose blessing we have shar'd;
Witness the genial rites, and witness all

[tell;

at

This house holds sacred in her ample wall!
Ev'n now this instant, great Ulysses lay'd
At rest, or wandering in his country's shade,
Their guilty deeds, in hearing, and in view,

Secret revolves; and plans the vengeance due.
Of this sure auguries the gods bestow'd,
When first our vessel anchor'd in your road."
"Succeed those omens, Heaven !" (the queen

rejoin'd)

Pr

"So shall our bounties speak a grateful mind;
And every envied happiness attend

The man, who calls Penelope his friend."

Thus commun'd they while in the marble
(Scene of their insolence) the lords resort; [court
Athwart the spacious square each tries his art,
To whirl the disk, or aim the missile dart,

Now did the hour of sweet repast arrive,
And from the field the victim flocks they drive :
Medon, the herald, (one who pleas'd them best,
And honour'd with a portion of their feast)
To bid the banquet, interrupts their play.
Swift to the hall they haste; aside they lay
Their garments, and succinct, the victims slay.
Then sheep and goats, and bristly porkers bled,
And the proud steer was o'er the marble spread.
While thus the copious banquet they provide;
Along the road conversing side by side,
Proceed Ulysses and the faithful swain :
When thus Eumæus, generous and humane :
"To town, observant of our lord's behest,
Now let us speed; my friend, no more my

guest!

Yet like myself I wish'd thee here preferr'd,
Guard of the flock, or keeper of the herd.
But much to raise my master's wrath I fear;
The wrath of princes ever is severe.

Or

Then heed his will, and be our journey made
While the broad beams of Phœbus are display'd,
ere brown evening spreads her chilly shade."
shade."
"Just thy advice," (the prudent chief rejoin'd)
And such as suits the dictate of my mind.
Lead on: but help me to some staff, to stay
My feeble step, since rugged is the way."
Across his shoulders then the scrip he flung,
Wide-patch'd, and fasten'd by a twisted thong.
A staff Fumæus gave. Along the way
Cheerly they fare: behind, the keepers stay;
These with their watchful dogs (a constant guard)
Supply his absence, and attend the herd.
And now his city strikes the monarch's eyes,
Alas! how chang'd! a man of miseries;
Propp'd on a staff, a beggar old and bare,
In rags dishonest fluttering with the air!
Now pass'd the rugged road, they journey down
The cavern'd way descending to the town,

Where, from the rock, with liquid lapse distils
A limpid fount; that, spreads in parting rills,
Its current thence to serve the city brings :
An useful work adorn'd by ancient kings.
Neritus, Ithacus, Polyctor, there,

In sculptur'd stone immortaliz'd their care,
In marble urns receiv'd it from above,
And shaded with a green surrounding grove;
Where silver alders, in high arches twin'd,
Drink the cold stream, and tremble to the wind.
Bencath, sequester'd to the nymphs, is seen
A mossy altar, deep embower'd in green;
Where constant vows by travellers are paid,
And holy horrours solemnize the shade.

Here with his goats (not vow'd to sacred flame,

But pamper'd luxury) Melanthius cane:
Two grooms attend him. With an envious look
He eyed the stranger, and imperious spoke :
"The good old proverb how this pair fulfil!
One rogue is usher to another still.
Heaven with a secret principle endued
Mankind, to seek their own similitude.
[guest?
Where goes the swine herd with that ill-look'd
That giant-glutton, dreadful at a feast!
Full many a post have those broad shoulders worn,
From every great man's gate repuls'd with scorn;
To no brave prize aspir'd the worthless swain,
'Twas but for scraps he ask'd, and ask'd in vain.
To beg, than work, he better understands;
Or we perhaps might take him off thy hands.
For any office could the slave be good,
To cleanse the fold, or help the kids to food,
If any labour those big joints could learn;
Some whey, to wash his bowels, he might earn.
To cringe, to whine, his idle hands to spread,
Is all, by which that graceless maw is fed.
Yet hear me! if thy impudence but dare
Approach yon walls, I prophesy thy fare:
Dearly, full dearly, shalt thou buy thy bread
With mary a footstool thundering at thy head."

He thus: nor insolent of word alone,
Spurn'd with his rustic heel his king unknown;
Spurn'd, but not mov'd: he like a pillar stood,
Nor stirr'd an inch, contemptuous, from the road:
Doubtful, or with his staff to strike him dead,
Or greet the pavement with his worthless head.
Short was that doubt; to quell his rage inur'd,
The hero stood self-conquer'd, and endur'd.
But, hateful of the wretch, Eumæus heav'd
His hands obtesting, and this prayer conceiv'd:
"Daughters of Jove! who from th' ethereal bowers
Descend to swell the springs, and feed the flowers!
Nymphs of this fountain! to whose sacred names
Our rural victims mount in blazing flames!
To whom Ulysses' piety preferr'd

The yearly firstlings of his flock and herd;
Succeed my wish; your votary restore :
Oh, be some god bis convoy to our shore!
Duc pains shall punish then this slave's offence,
And humble all his airs of insolence,
Who, proudly stalking leaves the herds at large,
Commences courtier, and neglects his charge."

"What mutters he?" (Melanthins sharp rejoins)
"This crafty misereant big with dark designs ?
The day shall come; nay, 'tis already near,
When, slave! to sell thee at a price too dear,
Must be my care; and hence transport thee o'er,
(A load and scandal to this happy shore).
Oh! that as surely great Apollo's dart,
Or some brave suitor's sword, might pierce the

Theart.

Of the proud son; as that we stand this hour
In lasting safety from the father's power!"

So spoke the wretch, but, shuuning farther fray,
Turn'd his proud step, and left them on their way.
Straight to the feastful palace he repair'd,
Familiar enter'd, and the banquet shar'd;
Beneath Eurymachus, his patron lord,

He took his place, and plenty heap'd the board.
Meantime they heard, soft-circling in the sky,
Sweet airs ascend, and heavenly minstrelsy
(For Phemius to the lyre attun'd the strain):
Ulysses hearken'd, then address'd the swain:

"Well may this palace admiration claim,
Great and respondent to the master's fame!
Stage above stage th' imperial structure stands,
Holds the chief honours, and the town comniands:
High walls and battlements the courts enclose,
And the strong gates defy an host of foes.
Far other cares its dwellers now employ :
The throng'd assembly, and the feast of joy:
I see the smokes of sacrifice aspire,
And here (what graces every feast) the lyre."

[best;

Then thus Eumæus: "Judge we which were
Amidst yon revellers a sudden guest
Chuse you to mingle, while behind I stay?
Or I first entering introduce the way?
Wait for a space without, but wait not long;
This is the house of violence and wrong:
Some rude insult thy reverend age may bear;
For like their lawless lords the servants are.

"Just is, O friend! thy caution, and address'd"
(Replied the chief) " to no unheedful breast;
"The wrongs and injuries of base mankind
Fresh to my sense, and always in my mind.
The bravely patient to no fortune yields:
On rolling oceans, and in fighting fields,
Storms have I pass'd, and many a stern debate;
And now in humbler scene submit to fate.
What cannot want? The blest she will expose,
And I am learn'd in all her train of woes;
She fills with navies, hosts, and loud alarms,
The sea, the land, and shakes the world with arms!"
"Thus, near the gates conferring as they drew,

Argus, the dog, his ancient master knew;
He, not unconscious of the voice and tread,
Lifts to the sound his ear, and rears his head;
Bred by Ulysses, nourish'd at his board,
But, ah! not fated long to please his lord!
To him, his swiftness and his strength were vain;
The voice of glory call'd him o'er the main.
Till then in every sylvan chase renown'd,
With Argus, Argus, rung the woods around;
With him the youth pursued the goat or fawn,
Or trac'd the mazy leveret o'er the lawn.
Now left to man's ingratitude he lay,
Unhous'd, neglected in the public way;
And where on heaps the rich manure was spread,
Obscene with reptiles, took his sordid bed.

He knew his lord; he knew, and strove to meet;
In vain he strove to crawl, and kiss his feet;
Yet (all he could) his tail, his ears, his eyes,
Salute his master, and confess his joys.
Soft pity touch'd the mighty master's soul;
Adown his cheek a tear unbidden stole,
Stole unperceiv'd; he turn'd his head, and dry'd
The drop humane: then thus impassion'd cry'd;
"What noble beast in this abandon'd state

Lies here all helpless at Ulysses' gate?
His bulk and beauty speak no vulgar praise;
If as he seems he was in better days,

Some care his age deserves: or was he priz'd
For worthless beauty! therefore now despis'd?
Such dogs and men there are, mere things of state,
And always cherish'd by their friends, the great."
"Not Argus so" (Eumæus thus rejoin'd)

But serv'd a master of a nobler kind,
Who never, never shall behold him more!
Long, long since perish'd on a distant shore!
Oh! had you seen him, vigorous, bold, and young,
Swift as a stag, and as a lion strong;

Him no fell savage on the plain withstood,
None 'scap'd him, bosom'd in the gloomy wood,
His eye how piercing, and his scent how true,
To wind the vapour in the tainted dew!
Such, when Ulysses left his natal coast;
Now years unnerve him, and his lord is lost!
The women keep the generous creature bare,
A sleek and idle race is all their care:
The master gone, the servants what restrains ?
Or dwells humanity where riot reigns?
Jove fix'd it certain, that whatever day
Makes man a slave, takes half bis worth away."

This said, the honest herdsman strode before;
The musing monarch pauses at the door :
The dog, whom fate had granted to behold
His lord, when twenty tedious years had roll'd,
Takes a last look, and having seen him, dies;
So clos'd for ever faithful Argus' eyes!

And now Telemachus, the first of all,
Observ'd Eumæus entering in the hall;
Distant he saw, across the shady dome;
Then gave a sign, and beckon'd him to come:
There stood an empty seat, where late was plac'd,
In order due, the steward of the feast
(Who now was busied carving round the board);
Eumæus took, and plac'd it near his lord.
Before him instant was the banquet spread,
And the bright basket pil'd with loaves of bread.

Next came Ulysses lowly at the door,

A figure despicable, old, and poor,
In squalid vests, with many a gaping rent,
Propp'd on a staff, and trembling as he went,
Then, resting on the threshold of the gate,
Against a cypress pillar lean'd his weight
(Smooth'd by the workman to a polish'd plain);
The thoughtful son beheld, and call'd his swain:

"These viands, and this bread, Eumæus! bear,

And let yon mendicant our plenty share:
Then let him circle round the suitors' board,
And try the bounty of each gracious lord:
Bold let him act, encourag'd thus by me;
How ill, alas! do want and shame agree!"

His lord's command the faithful servant bears;
The seeming beggar answers with his prayers.

Blest be Telemachus! in every deed
Inspire him, Jove! in every wish succeed!
This said, the portion from his son convey'd
With smiles receiving on his scrip he lay'd.
Long as the minstrel swept the sounding wire,
He fed, and ceas'd when silence held the lyre.
Soon as the suitors from the banquet rose,
Minerva prompts the man of mighty woes
To tempt their bounties with a suppliant's art,
And learn the generous from th' ignoble heart
(Not but his soul, resentful as humane,
Dooms to full vengeance all the offending train);
With speaking eyes, and voice of plaintive sound,
Humble he moves, imploring all around.
The proud feel pity, and relief bestow,
With such an image touch'd of human woe;