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 my 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:

[tell;

"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
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)

"So shall our bounties speak a grateful mind;
And every envied happiness attend
The man, who calls Penelope his friend."

[court

Thus commun'd they while in the marble
(Scene of their insolence) the lords resort;
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.

Then beed his will, and be our journey made
While the broad beams of Phoebus are display'd,
Or ere brown evening spreads her chilly 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 Eumæus 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 Auttering 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.
Beneath, 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 came :
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
[guest?
Mankind, to seek their own similitude.
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 many 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 his convoy to our shore !
Due 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 ?" (Melanthius sharp rejoins)
"This crafty miscreant 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

[heart.

Inquiring all, their wonder they confess,
And eye the man, majestic in distress.

While thus they gaze and question with their eyes,
The bold Melanthius to their thought replies:
68 My lords! this stranger of gigantic port
The good Eumæus usher'd to your court.
Full well I mark'd the features of his face,
Though all unknown his clime, or noble race."
"And is this present, swineherd! of thy hand?
Bring'st thou these vagrants to infest the land?"
(Returns Antinous with retorted eye) -
"Objects uncouth! to check the genial joy.
Enough of these our court already grace,
Of giant stomach, and of famish'd face,
Such guests Eumæus to his country brings,
To share our feast, and lead the life of kings."
To whom the hospitable swain rejoin'd:

Thy passion, prince, belies thy knowing mind,
Who calls, from distant nations to his own,
The poor, distinguish'd by their wants alone?
Round the wide world are sought those men
divine

Who public structures raise, or who design;
Those to whose eyes the gods their ways reveal,
Or bless with salutary arts to heal;
Rat chief to poets such respect belongs,
By rival nations courted for their songs;
These states invite, and mighty kings admire,
Wide as the Sun displays his vital fire.
It is not so with want! how few that feed
A wretch unhappy, merely for his need!`
Unjust to me and all that serve the state,
To love Ulysses is to raise thy hate.
For me, suffice the approbation won

Of my great mistress, and her godlike son,"
To him Telemachus: "No more incense
The man by nature prone to insolence :
Injurious minds just answers but provoke—”
Then turning to Antinous, thus he spoke :
"Thanks to thy care! whose absolute command
Thus drives the stranger from our court and land.
Heaven bless its owner with a better mind!
From envy free, to charity inçlin'd.
This both Penelope and I afford :

Then, prince! be bounteous of Ulysses' board.
To give another's is thy hand so slow?
So much more sweet, to spoil, than to bestow?"
"Whence, great Telemachus! this lofty strain?"
(Antinous cries with insolent disdain)
"Portions like mine if every suitor gave,

Our walls this twelvemonth should not see the slave."
He spoke, and lifting high above the board
His ponderous footstool, shook it at his lord.
The rest with equal hand conferr'd the bread;
He fill'd his scrip, and to the threshold sped ;
But first before Antinous stopp'd and said:
Bestow, my friend! thou dost not seem the worst
Of all the Greeks, but princelike and the first;
Then, as in dignity, be first in worth,

And I shall praise thee through the boundless earth.
Once I enjoy'd in luxury of state

Whate'er gives man the envied name of great;
Wealth, servants, friends, were mine in better days;
And hospitality was then my praise;
In every sorrowing soul I pour'd delight,
And poverty stood smiling in my sight.
But Jove, all-governing, whose only will
Determines fate, and mingles good with ill,
Sent me (to punish my pursuit of gain)
With roving pirates o'er th' Egyptian main;

By Egypt's silver flood our ships we moor ;
Our spies commission'd straight the coast explore;
But, impotent of mind, with lawless will
The country ravage, and the natives kill.
The spreading clamour to their city flies,
And horse and foot in mingled tumult rise:
The reddening dawn reveals the hostile fields,
Horrid with bristly spears, and gleaming shields:
Jove thunder'd on their side: our guilty head
We turn'd to flight; the gathering vengeance
spread

On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lay dead.
Some few the foes in servitude detain ;
Death ill-exchang'd for bondage and for pain!
Unhappy me a Cyprian took aboard,
And gave to Demetor, Cyprus' haughty lord:
Hither, to 'scape his chains, my course I steer,
Still curs'd by fortune, and insulted here!"

To whom Antinous thus his rage express'd:
"What god has plagu'd us with this gormand
guest?

Unless at distance, wretch! thou keep behind,
Another isle, than Cyprus more unkind;
Another Egypt, shalt thou quickly find.
From all thou bagg'st, a bold audacious slave;
Nor all can give so much as thou can crave.
Nor wonder I, at such profusion shown;
Shameless they give, who give what's not their own."
The chief, retiring: "Souls like that in thee
Ill suit such forms of grace and dignity.
Nor will that hand to utmost need afford
The smallest portion of a wasteful board,
Whose luxury whole patrimonies sweeps;
Yet starving want, amidst the riot, weeps. ""
The haughty suitor with resentment burns,
And, sourly smiling, this reply returns:
"Take that, ere yet thou quit this princely throng:
And dumb for ever be thy slanderous tongue!"
He said, and high the whirling triped flung.
His shoulder-blade receiv'd th' ungentle shock;
He stood, and mov'd not, like a marble rock;
But shook his thoughtful head, nor more complain'd,
Sedate of soul, his character sustain'd,
And inly form'd revenge: then back withdrew;
Before his feet the well-fill'd scrip he threw,
And thus with semblance mild address'd the crew:

May what I speak your princely minds approve,
Ye peers and rivals in this noble love!
Not for the hurt 1 grieve, but for the cause.
If, when the sword our country's quarrel draws,
Or if, defending what is justly dear,"
From Mars impartial some broad wound we bear;
The generous motive dignifies the scar.
But for mere want, how hard to suffer wrong!
Want brings enough of other ills along!
Yet, if injustice never be secure,

If fiends revenge, and gods assert the poor,
Death shall lay low the proud aggressor's head,
And make the dust Autinous' bridal bed."

"Peace, wretch! and eat thy bread without
offence,"

(The suitor cry'd) "or force shall drag thee hence.
Scourge through the public street, and cast thee
A mangled carcase for the hounds to tear." [there,
His furious deed the general anger mov'd,
All, ev'n the worst, condemn'd: and some reprov'd.
"Was ever chief for wars like these renown'd?
Ill fits the stranger and the poor to wound.
Unblest thy hand; if in this low disguise
Wander, perhaps, some inmate of the skies;

They (curious oft of mortal actions) deign
In forms like these, to round the earth and main,
Just and unjust recording in their mind,
And with sure eyes inspecting all mankind."

Telemachus, absorpt in thought severe,
Nourish'd deep anguish, though he shed no tear;
But the dark brow of silent sorrow shook :
While thus his mother to her virgins spoke :
"On him and his may the bright god of day
That base, inhospitable blow repay!"
The nurse replies: "If Jove receives my prayer,
Not one survives to breathe to morrow's air."

"All, all are foes, and mischief is their end;
Antinous most to gloomy death a friend ;"
(Replies the queen) "the stranger begg'd their
And melting pity soften'd every face; [grace,
From every other hand redress he found,
But fell Antinous answer'd with a wound."
Amidst her maids thus spoke the prudent queen,
Then bade Eumæus call the pilgrim in.

Much of th' experienc'd man I long to hear,
If or his certain eye, or listening ear,
Have learn'd the fortunes of my wandering lord?"
Thus she, and good Eumæus took the word.

"A private audience if thy grace impart, The stranger's words may ease thy royal heart. His sacred eloquence in balm distils,

And the sooth'd heart with secret pleasure fills.
Three days have spent their beams, three nights have
Their silent journey, since his tale begun,
Unfinish'd yet! and yet I thirst to hear!

[run

As when some heaven-taught poet charms the ear,
(Suspending sorrow with celestial strain
Breath'd from the gods to soften human pain)
Time steals away with unregarded wing,
And the soul hears him, though he cease to sing.
"Ulysses late he saw, on Cretan ground,
(His father's guest) for Minos' birth renown'd.
He now but waits the wind, to waft him o'er,
With boundless treasure, from Thesprotia's shore."
To this the queen: "The wanderer let me hear,
While yon luxurious race indulge their cheer,
Devour the grazing ox and browsing goat,
And turn my generous vintage down their throat.
For where's an arm, like thine, Ulysses! strong,
To curb wild riot, and to punish wrong?"

She spoke. Telemachus then sneez'd aloud;
Constrain'd, his nostril echo'd through the crowd.
The smiling queen the happy omen bless'd:
"So may these impious fall, by fate oppress'd!"
Then to Eumæus: "Bring the stranger, fly!
And if my questions meet a true reply,
Grac'd with a decent robe he shall retire,
A gift in season which his wants require."
Thus spoke Penelope. Eumæus flies
In duteous haste, and to Ulysses cries:
"The queen invites thee, venerable guest!
A secret instinct moves her troubled breast,
Of her long absent lord from thee to gain
Some light, and sooth her soul's eternal pain.
If true, if faithful thou; her grateful mind
Of decent robes a present has design'd:
So finding favour in the royal eye,
Thy other wants her subjects shall supply."

"Fair truth alone" (the patient man reply'd)
"My words shall dictate, and my lips shall guide.
To him, to me, one common lot was given,
In equal woes, alas! involv'd by Heaven.
Much of his fates I know; but check'd by fear
I stand: the hand of violence is here:

Her boundless wrongs the starry skies invade,
And injur'd suppliants seek in vain for aid.
Let for a space the pensive queen attend,
Nor claim my story till the Sun descend;
Then in such robes as suppliants may require,
Compos'd and cheerful by the genial fire,
When loud uproar and lawless riot cease,
Shall her pleas'd ear receive my words in peace."
Swift to the queen returns the gentle swain:
"And say," (she cries) "does fear, or shame, detain
The cautious stranger? With the begging kind
Shame suits but ill." Eumæus thus rejoin'd:

"He only asks a more propitious hour,
And shuns (who would not?) wicked men in power;
At evening mild (meet season to confer)
By turns to question, and by turns to hear."
"Whoe'er this guest" (the prudent queen replies)
"His every step and every thought is wise:
For men like these on Earth he shall not find
In all the miscreant race of human kind."

Thus she; Eumæus all her words attends,
And, parting, to the suitor powers descends;
There seeks Telemachus, and thus apart
In whispers breathes the fondness of his heart:
"The time, my lord, invites me to repair
Hence to the lodge; my charge demands my care.
These sons of murder thirst thy life to take;
Oh guard it; guard it for thy servant's sake!"
"Thanks to my friend," he cries; "but now the
Of night draws on, go seek the rural bower: [hour
But first refresh: and at the dawn of day
Hither a victim to the gods convey.

Our life to Heaven's immortal powers we trust,
Safe in their care, for Heaven protects the just."
Observant of his voice, Eumæus sate

And fed recumbent on a chair of state.
Then instant rose, and as he mov'd along
'Twas riot all amid the suitor throng,
They feast, they dance, and raise the mirthful song.
Till now, declining toward the close of day,
The Sun obliquely shot his dewy ray.

THE ODYSSEY.

BOOK XVIII.

ARGUMENT.

THE FIGHT OF ULYSSES AND IRUS.

THE beggar Irus insults Ulysses; the suitors premote the quarrel, in which Irus is worsted, and miserably handled. Penelope descends, and receives the presents of the suitors. The dialogue of Ulysses with Eurymachus.

WHILE fix'd in thought the pensive hero sate,
A mendicant approach'd the royal gate;
A surly vagrant of the giant kind,
The stain of manhood, of a coward mind:
From feast to feast, insatiate to devour
He flew, attendant on the genial hour.
Him on his mother's knees when babe he lay,
She nam'd Arnæus on his natal day;