Translation of: The Odyssey of Homer: Book XVII

ARGUMENT     Telemachus returns to the city, and relates to his mother the principal passages of his voyage; Ulysses, conducted by Eumus, arrives there also, and enters among the suitors, having been known only by his old dog Argus, who dies at his feet. The curiosity of Penelope being excited by the account which Eumus gives her of Ulysses, she orders him immediately into her presence, but Ulysses postpones the interview till evening, when the suitors having left the palace, there shall be no danger of interruption. Eumus returns to his cottage.             Now look'd Aurora from the East abroad,             When the illustrious offspring of divine             Ulysses bound his sandals to his feet;             He seiz'd his sturdy spear match'd to his gripe,             And to the city meditating quick             Departure now, the swine-herd thus bespake.                 Father! I seek the city, to convince             My mother of my safe return, whose tears,             I judge, and lamentation shall not cease             Till her own eyes behold me. But I lay             On thee this charge. Into the city lead,             Thyself, this hapless guest, that he may beg             Provision there, a morsel and a drop             From such as may, perchance, vouchsafe the boon.             I cannot, vext and harass'd as I am,             Feed all, and should the stranger take offence,             The worse for him. Plain truth is my delight.                 To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.             Nor is it my desire to be detained.             Better the mendicant in cities seeks             His dole, vouchsafe it whosoever may,             Than in the villages. I am not young,             Nor longer of an age that well accords             With rural tasks, nor could I all perform             That it might please a master to command.             Go then, and when I shall have warm'd my limbs             Before the hearth, and when the risen sun             Shall somewhat chase the cold, thy servant's task             Shall be to guide me thither, as thou bidd'st,             For this is a vile garb; the frosty air             Of morning would benumb me thus attired,             And, as ye say, the city is remote.                 He ended, and Telemachus in haste             Set forth, his thoughts all teeming as he went             With dire revenge. Soon in the palace-courts             Arriving, he reclined his spear against             A column, and proceeded to the hall.             Him Euryclea, first, his nurse, perceived,             While on the variegated seats she spread             Their fleecy cov'ring; swift with tearful eyes             She flew to him, and the whole female train             Of brave Ulysses swarm'd around his son,             Clasping him, and his forehead and his neck             Kissing affectionate; then came, herself,             As golden Venus or Diana fair,             Forth from her chamber to her son's embrace,             The chaste Penelope; with tears she threw             Her arms around him, his bright-beaming eyes             And forehead kiss'd, and with a murmur'd plaint             Maternal, in wing'd accents thus began.                 Thou hast return'd, light of my eyes! my son!             My lov'd Telemachus! I had no hope             To see thee more when once thou hadst embark'd             For Pylus, privily, and with no consent             From me obtain'd, news seeking of thy sire.             But haste; unfold. Declare what thou hast seen.                 To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.             Ah mother! let my sorrows rest, nor me             From death so lately 'scaped afflict anew,             But, bathed and habited in fresh attire,             With all the maidens of thy train ascend             To thy superior chamber, there to vow             A perfect hecatomb to all the Gods,             When Jove shall have avenged our num'rous wrongs.             I seek the forum, there to introduce             A guest, my follower from the Pylian shore,             Whom sending forward with my noble band,             I bade Pirus to his own abode             Lead him, and with all kindness entertain             The stranger, till I should myself arrive.                 He spake, nor flew his words useless away.             She, bathed and habited in fresh attire,             Vow'd a full hecatomb to all the Gods,             Would Jove but recompense her num'rous wrongs.             Then, spear in hand, went forth her son, two dogs             Fleet-footed following him. O'er all his form             Pallas diffused a dignity divine,             And ev'ry eye gazed on him as he pass'd.             The suitors throng'd him round, joy on their lips             And welcome, but deep mischief in their hearts.             He, shunning all that crowd, chose to himself             A seat, where Mentor sat, and Antiphus,             And Halytherses, long his father's friends             Sincere, who of his voyage much enquired.             Then drew Pirus nigh, leading his guest             Toward the forum; nor Telemachus             Stood long aloof, but greeted his approach,             And was accosted by Pirus thus.                 Sir! send thy menial women to bring home             The precious charge committed to my care,             Thy gifts at Menelaus' hands received.                 To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.             Pirus! wait; for I not yet foresee             The upshot. Should these haughty ones effect             My death, clandestine, under my own roof,             And parcel my inheritance by lot,             I rather wish those treasures thine, than theirs.             But should I with success plan for them all             A bloody death, then, wing'd with joy, thyself             Bring home those presents to thy joyful friend.                 So saying, he led the anxious stranger thence             Into the royal mansion, where arrived,             Each cast his mantle on a couch or throne,             And plung'd his feet into a polish'd bath.             There wash'd and lubricated with smooth oils,             From the attendant maidens each received             Tunic and shaggy mantle. Thus attired,             Forth from the baths they stepp'd, and sat again.             A maiden, next, with golden ewer charged,             And silver bowl, pour'd water on their hands,             And spread the polish'd table, which with food             Of all kinds, remnants of the last regale,             The mistress of the household charge supplied.             Meantime, beside a column of the dome             His mother, on a couch reclining, twirl'd             Her slender threads. They to the furnish'd board             Stretch'd forth their hands, and, hunger now and thirst             Both satisfied, Penelope began.                 Telemachus! I will ascend again,             And will repose me on my woeful bed;             For such it hath been, and with tears of mine             Ceaseless bedew'd, e'er since Ulysses went             With Atreus' sons to Troy. For not a word             Thou would'st vouchsafe me till our haughty guests             Had occupied the house again, of all             That thou hast heard (if aught indeed thou hast)             Of thy long-absent father's wish'd return.                 Her answer'd then Telemachus discrete.             Mother, at thy request I will with truth             Relate the whole. At Pylus shore arrived             We Nestor found, Chief of the Pylian race.             Receiving me in his august abode,             He entertain'd me with such welcome kind             As a glad father shews to his own son             Long-lost and newly found; so Nestor me,             And his illustrious offspring, entertain'd,             But yet assured me that he nought had heard             From mortal lips of my magnanimous sire,             Whether alive or dead; with his own steeds             He sent me, and with splendid chariot thence             To spear-famed Menelaus, Atreus' son.             There saw I Helen, by the Gods' decree             Auth'ress of trouble both to Greece and Troy.             The Hero Menelaus then enquired             What cause had urged me to the pleasant vale             Of Lacedmon; plainly I rehearsed             The occasion, and the Hero thus replied.                 Ye Gods! they are ambitious of the bed             Of a brave man, however base themselves.             But, as it chances when the hart hath laid             Her fawns new-yean'd and sucklings yet, to rest             In some resistless lion's den, she roams,             Meantime, the hills, and in the grassy vales             Feeds heedless, but the lion to his lair             Returning soon, both her and hers destroys,             So shall thy father, brave Ulysses, them.             Jove! Pallas! and Apollo! oh that such             As erst in well-built Lesbos, where he strove             With Philomelides, whom wrestling, flat             He threw, when all Achaia's sons rejoiced,             Ulysses, now, might mingle with his foes!             Short life and bitter nuptials should be theirs,             But thy enquiries neither indirect             Will I evade, nor give thee false reply,             But all that from the Ancient of the Deep[73]             I have received will utter, hiding nought.             The God declared that he had seen thy sire             In a lone island, sorrowing, and detain'd             An inmate in the grotto of the nymph             Calypso, wanting also means by which             To reach the country of his birth again,             For neither gallant barks nor friends had he             To speed his passage o'er the boundless waves.                 So Menelaus spake, the spear-renown'd.             My errand thus accomplish'd, I return'd--             And by the Gods with gales propitious blest,             Was wafted swiftly to my native shore.                 He spake, and tumult in his mother's heart             So speaking, raised. Consolatory, next,             The godlike Theoclymenus began.                 Consort revered of Laertiades!             Little the Spartan knew, but list to me,             For I will plainly prophesy and sure.             Be Jove of all in heav'n my witness first,             Then this thy hospitable board, and, last,             The household Gods of the illustrious Chief             Ulysses, at whose hearth I have arrived,[74]             That, even now, within his native isle             Ulysses somewhere sits, or creeps obscure,             Witness of these enormities, and seeds             Sowing of dire destruction for his foes;             So sure an augury, while on the deck             Reclining of the gallant bark, I saw,             And with loud voice proclaim'd it to thy son.                 Him answer'd then Penelope discrete.             Grant heav'n, my guest, that this good word of thine             Fail not! then shalt thou soon such bounty share             And friendship at my hands, that at first sight             Whoe'er shall meet thee shall pronounce thee blest.                 Thus they conferr'd. Meantime the suitors hurl'd             The quoit and lance on the smooth area spread             Before Ulysses' gate, the custom'd scene             Of their contentions, sports, and clamours rude.             But when the hour of supper now approach'd,             And from the pastures on all sides the sheep             Came with their wonted drivers, Medon then             (For he of all the heralds pleas'd them most,             And waited at the board) them thus address'd.                 Enough of play, young princes! ent'ring now             The house, prepare we sedulous our feast,             Since in well-timed refreshment harm is none.                 He spake, whose admonition pleas'd. At once             All, rising, sought the palace; there arrived,             Each cast his mantle off, which on his throne             Or couch he spread, then, brisk, to slaughter fell             Of many a victim; sheep and goats and brawns             They slew, all fatted, and a pastur'd ox,             Hast'ning the banquet; nor with less dispatch             Ulysses and Eumus now prepared             To seek the town, when thus the swain began.                 My guest! since thy fixt purpose is to seek             This day the city as my master bade,             Though I, in truth, much rather wish thee here             A keeper of our herds, yet, through respect             And rev'rence of his orders, whose reproof             I dread, for masters seldom gently chide,             I would be gone. Arise, let us depart,             For day already is far-spent, and soon             The air of even-tide will chill thee more.                 To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.             It is enough. I understand. Thou speak'st             To one intelligent. Let us depart,             And lead, thyself, the way; but give me, first,             (If thou have one already hewn) a staff             To lean on, for ye have described the road             Rugged, and ofttimes dang'rous to the foot.                 So saying, his tatter'd wallet o'er his back             He cast, suspended by a leathern twist,             Eumus gratified him with a staff,             And forth they went, leaving the cottage kept             By dogs and swains. He city-ward his King             Led on, in form a squalid beggar old,             Halting, and in unseemly garb attired.             But when, slow-travelling the craggy way,             They now approach'd the town, and had attain'd             The marble fountain deep, which with its streams             Pellucid all the citizens supplied,             (Ithacus had that fountain framed of old             With Neritus and Polyctor, over which             A grove of water-nourish'd alders hung             Circular on all sides, while cold the rill             Ran from the rock, on whose tall summit stood             The altar of the nymphs, by all who pass'd             With sacrifice frequented, still, and pray'r)             Melantheus, son of Dolius, at that fount             Met them; the chosen goats of ev'ry flock,             With two assistants, from the field he drove,             The suitors' supper. He, seeing them both,             In surly accent boorish, such as fired             Ulysses with resentment, thus began.                 Ay--this is well--The villain leads the vile--             Thus evermore the Gods join like to like.             Thou clumsy swine-herd, whither would'st conduct             This morsel-hunting mendicant obscene,             Defiler base of banquets? many a post             Shall he rub smooth that props him while he begs             Lean alms, sole object of his low pursuit,             Who ne'er to sword or tripod yet aspired.             Would'st thou afford him to me for a guard             Or sweeper of my stalls, or to supply             My kids with leaves, he should on bulkier thewes             Supported stand, though nourish'd but with whey.             But no such useful arts hath he acquired,             Nor likes he work, but rather much to extort             From others food for his unsated maw.             But mark my prophecy, for it is true,             At famed Ulysses' house should he arrive,             His sides shall shatter many a footstool hurl'd             Against them by the offended princes there.                 He spake, and drawing nigh, with his rais'd foot,             Insolent as he was and brutish, smote             Ulysses' haunch, yet shook not from his path             The firm-set Chief, who, doubtful, mused awhile             Whether to rush on him, and with his staff             To slay him, or uplifting him on high,             Downward to dash him headlong; but his wrath             Restraining, calm he suffer'd the affront.             Him then Eumus with indignant look             Rebuking, rais'd his hands, and fervent pray'd.                 Nymphs of the fountains, progeny of Jove!             If e'er Ulysses on your altar burn'd             The thighs of fatted lambs or kidlings, grant             This my request. O let the Hero soon,             Conducted by some Deity, return!             So shall he quell that arrogance which safe             Thou now indulgest, roaming day by day             The city, while bad shepherds mar the flocks.                 To whom the goat-herd answer thus return'd             Melantheus. Marvellous! how rare a speech             The subtle cur hath framed! whom I will send             Far hence at a convenient time on board             My bark, and sell him at no little gain.             I would, that he who bears the silver bow             As sure might pierce Telemachus this day             In his own house, or that the suitors might,             As that same wand'rer shall return no more!                 He said, and them left pacing slow along,             But soon, himself, at his Lord's house arrived;             There ent'ring bold, he with the suitors sat             Opposite to Eurymachus, for him             He valued most. The sewers his portion placed             Of meat before him, and the maiden, chief             Directress of the household gave him bread.             And now, Ulysses, with the swain his friend             Approach'd, when, hearing the harmonious lyre,             Both stood, for Phemius had begun his song.             He grasp'd the swine-herd's hand, and thus he said.                 This house, Eumus! of Ulysses seems             Passing magnificent, and to be known             With ease for his among a thousand more.             One pile supports another, and a wall             Crested with battlements surrounds the court;             Firm, too, the folding doors all force of man             Defy; but num'rous guests, as I perceive,             Now feast within; witness the sav'ry steam             Fast-fuming upward, and the sounding harp,             Divine associate of the festive board.                 To whom, Eumus, thou didst thus reply.             Thou hast well-guess'd; no wonder, thou art quick             On ev'ry theme; but let us well forecast             This business. Wilt thou, ent'ring first, thyself,             The splendid mansion, with the suitors mix,             Me leaving here? or shall I lead the way             While thou remain'st behind? yet linger not,             Lest, seeing thee without, some servant strike             Or drive thee hence. Consider which were best.                 Him answer'd, then, the patient Hero bold.             It is enough. I understand. Thou speak'st             To one intelligent. Lead thou the way             Me leaving here, for neither stripes nor blows             To me are strange. Much exercised with pain             In fight and on the Deep, I have long since             Learn'd patience. Follow, next, what follow may!             But, to suppress the appetite, I deem             Impossible; the stomach is a source             Of ills to man, an avaricious gulph             Destructive, which to satiate, ships are rigg'd,             Seas travers'd, and fierce battles waged remote.                 Thus they discoursing stood; Argus the while,             Ulysses' dog, uplifted where he lay             His head and ears erect. Ulysses him             Had bred long since, himself, but rarely used,             Departing, first, to Ilium. Him the youths             In other days led frequent to the chace             Of wild goat, hart and hare; but now he lodg'd             A poor old cast-off, of his Lord forlorn,             Where mules and oxen had before the gate             Much ordure left, with which Ulysses' hinds             Should, in due time, manure his spacious fields.             There lay, with dog-devouring vermin foul             All over, Argus; soon as he perceived             Long-lost Ulysses nigh, down fell his ears             Clapp'd close, and with his tail glad sign he gave             Of gratulation, impotent to rise             And to approach his master as of old.             Ulysses, noting him, wiped off a tear             Unmark'd, and of Eumus quick enquired.                 I can but wonder seeing such a dog             Thus lodg'd, Eumus! beautiful in form             He is, past doubt, but whether he hath been             As fleet as fair I know not; rather such             Perchance as masters sometimes keep to grace             Their tables, nourish'd more for shew than use.                 To whom, Eumus, thou didst thus reply.             He is the dog of one dead far remote.             But had he now such feat-performing strength             As when Ulysses left him, going hence             To Ilium, in one moment thou shouldst mark,             Astonish'd, his agility and force.             He never in the sylvan deep recess             The wild beast saw that 'scaped him, and he track'd             Their steps infallible; but he hath now             No comfort, for (the master dead afar)             The heedless servants care not for his dog.             Domestics, missing once their Lord's controul,             Grow wilful, and refuse their proper tasks;             For whom Jove dooms to servitude, he takes             At once the half of that man's worth away.                 He said, and, ent'ring at the portal, join'd             The suitors. Then his destiny released             Old Argus, soon as he had lived to see             Ulysses in the twentieth year restored.                 Godlike Telemachus, long ere the rest,             Marking the swine-herd's entrance, with a nod             Summon'd him to approach. Eumus cast             His eye around, and seeing vacant there             The seat which the dispenser of the feast             Was wont to occupy while he supplied             The num'rous guests, planted it right before             Telemachus, and at his table sat,             On which the herald placed for him his share             Of meat, and from the baskets gave him bread.             Soon after him, Ulysses enter'd slow             The palace, like a squalid beggar old,             Staff-propp'd, and in loose tatters foul attired.             Within the portal on the ashen sill             He sat, and, seeming languid, lean'd against             A cypress pillar by the builder's art             Polish'd long since, and planted at the door.             Then took Telemachus a loaf entire             Forth from the elegant basket, and of flesh             A portion large as his two hands contained,             And, beck'ning close the swine-herd, charged him thus.                 These to the stranger; whom advise to ask             Some dole from ev'ry suitor; bashful fear             Ill suits the mendicant by want oppress'd.                 He spake; Eumus went, and where he sat             Arriving, in wing'd accents thus began.                 Telemachus, oh stranger, sends thee these,             And counsels thee to importune for more             The suitors, one by one; for bashful fear             Ill suits the mendicant by want oppress'd.                 To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.             Jove, King of all, grant ev'ry good on earth             To kind Telemachus, and the complete             Accomplishment of all that he desires!                 He said, and with both hands outspread, the mess             Receiving as he sat, on his worn bag             Disposed it at his feet. Long as the bard             Chaunted, he ate, and when he ceas'd to eat,             Then also ceas'd the bard divine to sing.             And now ensued loud clamour in the hall             And tumult, when Minerva, drawing nigh             To Laertiades, impell'd the Chief             Crusts to collect, or any pittance small             At ev'ry suitor's hand, for trial's sake             Of just and unjust; yet deliv'rance none             From evil she design'd for any there.             From left to right[75] his progress he began             Petitioning, with outstretch'd hands, the throng,             As one familiar with the beggar's art.             They, pitying, gave to him, but view'd him still             With wonder, and enquiries mutual made             Who, and whence was he? Then the goat-herd rose             Melanthius, and th' assembly thus address'd.                 Hear me, ye suitors of th' illustrious Queen!             This guest, of whom ye ask, I have beheld             Elsewhere; the swine-herd brought him; but himself             I know not, neither who nor whence he is.                 So he; then thus Antinos stern rebuked             The swine-herd. Ah, notorious as thou art,             Why hast thou shewn this vagabond the way             Into the city? are we not enough             Infested with these troublers of our feasts?             Deem'st it a trifle that such numbers eat             At thy Lord's cost, and hast thou, therefore, led             This fellow hither, found we know not where?                 To whom, Eumus, thou didst thus reply.             Antinos! though of high degree, thou speak'st             Not wisely. What man to another's house             Repairs to invite him to a feast, unless             He be of those who by profession serve             The public, prophet, healer of disease,             Ingenious artist, or some bard divine             Whose music may exhilarate the guests?             These, and such only, are in ev'ry land             Call'd to the banquet; none invites the poor,             Who much consume, and no requital yield.             But thou of all the suitors roughly treat'st             Ulysses' servants most, and chiefly me;             Yet thee I heed not, while the virtuous Queen             Dwells in this palace, and her godlike son.                 To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.             Peace! answer not verbose a man like him.             Antinos hath a tongue accustom'd much             To tauntings, and promotes them in the rest.                 Then, turning to Antinos, quick he said--             Antinos! as a father for his son             Takes thought, so thou for me, who bidd'st me chase             The stranger harshly hence; but God forbid![76]             Impart to him. I grudge not, but myself             Exhort thee to it; neither, in this cause,             Fear thou the Queen, or in the least regard             Whatever menial throughout all the house             Of famed Ulysses. Ah! within thy breast             Dwells no such thought; thou lov'st not to impart             To others, but to gratify thyself.                 To whom Antinos answer thus return'd.             High-soaring and intemp'rate in thy speech             How hast thou said, Telemachus? Would all             As much bestow on him, he should not seek             Admittance here again three months to come.                 So saying, he seized the stool which, banqueting,             He press'd with his nice feet, and from beneath             The table forth advanced it into view.             The rest all gave to him, with bread and flesh             Filling his wallet, and Ulysses, now,             Returning to his threshold, there to taste             The bounty of the Greeks, paused in his way             Beside Antinos, whom he thus address'd.                 Kind sir! vouchsafe to me! for thou appear'st             Not least, but greatest of the Achaians here,             And hast a kingly look. It might become             Thee therefore above others to bestow,             So should I praise thee wheresoe'er I roam.             I also lived the happy owner once             Of such a stately mansion, and have giv'n             To num'rous wand'rers (whencesoe'er they came)             All that they needed; I was also served             By many, and enjoy'd all that denotes             The envied owner opulent and blest.             But Jove (for so it pleas'd him) hath reduced             My all to nothing, prompting me, in league             With rovers of the Deep, to sail afar             To gypt, for my sure destruction there.             Within th' gyptian stream my barks well-oar'd             I station'd, and, enjoining strict my friends             To watch them close-attendant at their side,             Commanded spies into the hill-tops; but they,             Under the impulse of a spirit rash             And hot for quarrel, the well-cultur'd fields             Pillaged of the gyptians, captive led             Their wives and little-ones, and slew the men.             Ere long, the loud alarm their city reach'd.             Down came the citizens, by dawn of day,             With horse and foot and with the gleam of arms             Filling the plain. Then Jove with panic dread             Struck all my people; none found courage more             To stand, for mischiefs swarm'd on ev'ry side.             There, num'rous by the glitt'ring spear we fell             Slaughter'd, while others they conducted thence             Alive to servitude; but me they gave             To Dmetor, King in Cyprus, Jasus' son;             He entertained me liberally, and thence             This land I reach'd, but poor and woe-begone.                 Then answer thus Antinos harsh return'd.             What dmon introduced this nuisance here,             This troubler of our feast? stand yonder, keep             Due distance from my table, or expect             To see an gypt and a Cyprus worse             Than those, bold mendicant and void of shame!             Thou hauntest each, and, inconsid'rate, each             Gives to thee, because gifts at other's cost             Are cheap, and, plentifully serv'd themselves,             They squander, heedless, viands not their own.                 To whom Ulysses while he slow retired.             Gods! how illib'ral with that specious form!             Thou wouldst not grant the poor a grain of salt             From thy own board, who at another's fed             So nobly, canst thou not spare a crust to me.                 He spake; then raged Antinos still the more,             And in wing'd accents, louring, thus replied.                 Take such dismission now as thou deserv'st,             Opprobrious! hast thou dared to scoff at me?                 So saying, he seized his stool, and on the joint             Of his right shoulder smote him; firm as rock             He stood, by no such force to be displaced,             But silent shook his brows, and dreadful deeds             Of vengeance ruminating, sought again             His seat the threshold, where his bag full-charged             He grounded, and the suitors thus address'd.                 Hear now, ye suitors of the matchless Queen,             My bosom's dictates. Trivial is the harm,             Scarce felt, if, fighting for his own, his sheep             Perchance, or beeves, a man receive a blow.             But me Antinos struck for that I ask'd             Food from him merely to appease the pangs             Of hunger, source of num'rous ills to man.             If then the poor man have a God t' avenge             His wrongs, I pray to him that death may seize             Antinos, ere his nuptial hour arrive!                 To whom Antinos answer thus return'd,             Son of Eupithes. Either seated there             Or going hence, eat, stranger, and be still;             Lest for thy insolence, by hand or foot             We drag thee forth, and thou be flay'd alive.                 He ceased, whom all indignant heard, and thus             Ev'n his own proud companions censured him.                 Antinos! thou didst not well to smite             The wretched vagabond. O thou art doom'd             For ever, if there be a God in heav'n;[77]             For, in similitude of strangers oft,             The Gods, who can with ease all shapes assume,             Repair to populous cities, where they mark             The outrageous and the righteous deeds of men.                 So they, for whose reproof he little cared.             But in his heart Telemachus that blow             Resented, anguish-torn, yet not a tear             He shed, but silent shook his brows, and mused             Terrible things. Penelope, meantime,             Told of the wand'rer so abused beneath             Her roof, among her maidens thus exclaim'd.                 So may Apollo, glorious archer, smite             Thee also. Then Eurynome replied,                 Oh might our pray'rs prevail, none of them all             Should see bright-charioted Aurora more.                 Her answer'd then Penelope discrete.             Nurse! they are odious all, for that alike             All teem with mischief; but Antinos' looks             Remind me ever of the gloom of death.             A stranger hath arrived who, begging, roams             The house, (for so his penury enjoins)             The rest have giv'n him, and have fill'd his bag             With viands, but Antinos hath bruised             His shoulder with a foot-stool hurl'd at him.                 While thus the Queen conversing with her train             In her own chamber sat, Ulysses made             Plenteous repast. Then, calling to her side             Eumus, thus she signified her will.                 Eumus, noble friend! bid now approach             Yon stranger. I would speak with him, and ask             If he has seen Ulysses, or have heard             Tidings, perchance, of the afflicted Chief,             For much a wand'rer by his garb he seems.                 To whom, Eumus, thou didst thus reply.             Were those Achaians silent, thou shouldst hear,             O Queen! a tale that would console thy heart.             Three nights I housed him, and within my cot             Three days detain'd him, (for his ship he left             A fugitive, and came direct to me)             But half untold his hist'ry still remains.             As when his eye one fixes on a bard             From heav'n instructed in such themes as charm             The ear of mortals, ever as he sings             The people press, insatiable, to hear,             So, in my cottage, seated at my side,             That stranger with his tale enchanted me.             Laertes, he affirms, hath been his guest             Erewhile in Crete, where Minos' race resides,             And thence he hath arrived, after great loss,             A suppliant to the very earth abased;             He adds, that in Thesprotia's neighbour realm             He of Ulysses heard, both that he lives,             And that he comes laden with riches home.                 To whom Penelope, discrete, replied.             Haste; call him. I would hear, myself, his tale.             Meantime, let these, or in the palace gate             Sport jocular, or here; their hearts are light,             For their possessions are secure; their wine             None drinks, or eats their viands, save their own,             While my abode, day after day, themselves             Haunting, my beeves and sheep and fatted goats             Slay for the banquet, and my casks exhaust             Extravagant, whence endless waste ensues;             For no such friend as was Ulysses once             Have I to expel the mischief. But might he             Revisit once his native shores again,             Then, aided by his son, he should avenge,             Incontinent, the wrongs which now I mourn.                 Then sneezed Telemachus with sudden force,             That all the palace rang; his mother laugh'd,             And in wing'd accents thus the swain bespake.                 Haste--bid him hither--hear'st thou not the sneeze             Propitious of my son? oh might it prove             A presage of inevitable death             To all these revellers! may none escape!             Now mark me well. Should the event his tale             Confirm, at my own hands he shall receive             Mantle and tunic both for his reward.                 She spake; he went, and where Ulysses sat             Arriving, in wing'd accents thus began.                 Penelope, my venerable friend!             Calls thee, the mother of Telemachus.             Oppress'd by num'rous troubles, she desires             To ask thee tidings of her absent Lord.             And should the event verify thy report,             Thy meed shall be (a boon which much thou need'st)             Tunic and mantle; but she gives no more;             Thy sustenance thou must, as now, obtain,[78]             Begging it at their hands who chuse to give.                 Then thus Ulysses, Hero toil-inured.             Eumus! readily I can relate             Truth, and truth only, to the prudent Queen             Icarius' daughter; for of him I know             Much, and have suff'red sorrows like his own.             But dread I feel of this imperious throng             Perverse, whose riot and outrageous acts             Of violence echo through the vault of heav'n.             And, even now, when for no fault of mine             Yon suitor struck me as I pass'd, and fill'd             My flesh with pain, neither Telemachus             Nor any interposed to stay his arm.             Now, therefore, let Penelope, although             Impatient, till the sun descend postpone             Her questions; then she may enquire secure             When comes her husband, and may nearer place             My seat to the hearth-side, for thinly clad             Thou know'st I am, whose aid I first implored.                 He ceas'd; at whose reply Eumus sought             Again the Queen, but ere he yet had pass'd             The threshold, thus she greeted his return.                 Com'st thou alone, Eumus? why delays             The invited wand'rer? dreads he other harm?             Or sees he aught that with a bashful awe             Fills him? the bashful poor are poor indeed.                 To whom, Eumus, thou didst thus reply.             He hath well spoken; none who would decline             The rudeness of this contumelious throng             Could answer otherwise; thee he entreats             To wait till sun-set, and that course, O Queen,             Thou shalt thyself far more commodious find,             To hold thy conf'rence with the guest, alone.                 Then answer thus Penelope return'd.             The stranger, I perceive, is not unwise,             Whoe'er he be, for on the earth are none             Proud, insolent, and profligate as these.                 So spake the Queen. Then (all his message told)             The good Eumus to the suitors went             Again, and with his head inclined toward             Telemachus, lest others should his words             Witness, in accents wing'd him thus address'd.                 Friend and kind master! I return to keep             My herds, and to attend my rural charge,             Whence we are both sustain'd. Keep thou, meantime,             All here with vigilance, but chiefly watch             For thy own good, and save thyself from harm;             For num'rous here brood mischief, whom the Gods             Exterminate, ere yet their plots prevail!                 To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.             So be it, father! and (thy evening-mess             Eaten) depart; to-morrow come again,             Bringing fair victims hither; I will keep,             I and the Gods, meantime, all here secure.                 He ended; then resumed once more the swain             His polish'd seat, and, both with wine and food             Now satiate, to his charge return'd, the court             Leaving and all the palace throng'd with guests;             They (for it now was evening) all alike             Turn'd jovial to the song and to the dance.