Chapman, George, trans. (1559?–1634).  The Odysseys of Homer, vol. 1.  1857.



THE Gods in council sit, to call
Ulysses from Calypso's thrall,
And order their high pleasures thus:
Grey Pallas to Telemachus
(In Ithaca) her way addrest;
And did her heavenly limbs invest
In Mentas' likeness, that did reign
King of the Taphians, in the main
Whose rough waves near Leucadia run,
Advising wise Ulysses' son
To seek his father, and address
His course to young Tantalides
That govern'd Sparta. Thus much said,
She shew'd she was Heaven's martial Maid,
And vanish'd from him. Next to this,
The Banquet of the Wooers is.


The Deities sit;
The Man retired;
The Ulyssean wit
By Pallas fired.

HE man, O Muse, inform, that many a way
      Wound with his wisdom to his wished stay;
      That wandered wondrous far, when he the town
      Of sacred Troy had sack'd and shivered down;
      The cities of a world of nations,                                5
      With all their manners, minds, and fashions,
      He saw and knew; at sea felt many woes,
      Much care sustained, to save from overthrows
      Himself and friends in their retreat for home;
      But so their fates he could not overcome,                       10
      Though much he thirsted it. O men unwise,
      They perish'd by their own impieties,
      That in their hunger's rapine would not shun
      The oxen of the lofty-going Sun,
      Who therefore from their eyes the day bereft                    15
      Of safe return. These acts, in some part left,
      Tell us, as others, deified Seed of Jove.
        Now all the rest that austere death outstrove
      At Troy's long siege at home safe anchor'd are,
      Free from the malice both of sea and war;                       20
      Only Ulysses is denied access
      To wife and home. The grace of Goddesses,
      The reverend nymph Calypso, did detain
      Him in her caves, past all the race of men
      Enflam'd to make him her lov'd lord and spouse.                 25
      And when the Gods had destin'd that his house,
      Which Ithaca on her rough bosom bears,
      (The point of time wrought out by ambient years)
      Should be his haven, Contention still extends
      Her envy to him, even amongst his friends.                      30
      All Gods took pity on him; only he,
      That girds earth in the cincture of the sea,
      Divine Ulysses ever did envy,
      And made the fix'd port of his birth to fly.
        But he himself solemnized a retreat                           35
      To th' Æthiops, far dissunder'd in their seat,
      (In two parts parted, at the sun's descent,
      And underneath his golden orient,
      The first and last of men) t' enjoy their feast
      Of bulls and lambs, in hecatombs address'd;                     40
      At which he sat, given over to delight.
        The other Gods in heaven's supremest height
      Were all in council met; to whom began
      The mighty Father both of God and man
      Discourse, inducing matter that inclined                        45
      To wise Ulysses, calling to his mind
      Faultful Ægisthus, who to death was done
      By young Orestes, Agamemnon's son.
      His memory to the Immortals then
      Mov'd Jove thus deeply: "O how falsely men                      50
      Accuse us Gods as authors of their ill,
      When by the bane their own bad lives instil
      They suffer all the miseries of their states,
      Past our inflictions, and beyond their fates.
      As now Ægisthus, past his fate, did wed                        55
      The wife of Agamemnon, and (in dread
      To suffer death himself) to shun his ill,
      Incurred it by the loose bent of his will,
      In slaughtering Atrides in retreat.
      Which we foretold him would so hardly set                       60
      To his murderous purpose, sending Mercury
      That slaughter'd Argus, our considerate spy,
      To give him this charge: 'Do not wed his wife,
      Nor murder him; for thou shalt buy his life
      With ransom of thine own, imposed on thee                       65
      By his Orestes, when in him shall be
      Atrides' self renew'd, and but the prime
      Of youth's spring put abroad, in thirst to climb
      His haughty father's throne by his high acts.'
      These words of Hermes wrought not into facts                    70
      Ægisthus' powers; good counsel he despised,
      And to that good his ill is sacrificed."
        Pallas, whose eyes did sparkle like the skies,
      Answer'd: "O Sire! Supreme of Deities,
      Ægisthus past his fate, and had desert                         75
      To warrant our infliction; and convert
      May all the pains such impious men inflict
      On innocent sufferers to revenge as strict,
      Their own hearts eating. But, that Ithacus,
      Thus never meriting, should suffer thus,                        80
      I deeply suffer. His more pious mind
      Divides him from these fortunes. Though unkind
      Is piety to him, giving him a fate
      More suffering than the most unfortunate,
      So long kept friendless in a sea-girt soil,                     85
      Where the sea's navel is a sylvan isle,
      In which the Goddess dwells that doth derive
      Her birth from Atlas, who of all alive
      The motion and the fashion doth command
      With his wise mind, whose forces understand                     90
      The inmost deeps and gulfs of all the seas,
      Who (for his skill of things superior) stays
      The two steep columns that prop earth and heaven.
      His daughter 'tis, who holds this homeless-driven
      Still mourning with her; evermore profuse                       95
      Of soft and winning speeches, that abuse
      And make so languishingly, and possest
      With so remiss a mind her loved guest,
      Manage the action of his way for home.
      Where he, though in affection overcome,                        100
      In judgment yet more longs to show his hopes,
      His country's smoke leap from her chimney tops,
      And death asks in her arms. Yet never shall
      Thy lov'd heart be converted on his thrall,
      Austere Olympius. Did not ever he,                             105
      In ample Troy, thy altars gratify,
      And Grecians' fleet make in thy offerings swim?
      O Jove, why still then burns thy wrath to him?"
        The Cloud-assembler answer'd: "What words fly,
      Bold daughter, from thy pale of ivory?                         110
      As if I ever could cast from my care
      Divine Ulysses, who exceeds so far
      All men in wisdom, and so oft hath given
      To all th' Immortals throned in ample heaven
      So great and sacred gifts? But his decrees,                    115
      That holds the earth in with his nimble knees,
      Stand to Ulysses' longings so extreme,
      For taking from the God-foe Polypheme
      His only eye; a Cyclop, that excelled
      All other Cyclops, with whose burden swell'd                   120
      The nymph Thoosa, the divine increase
      Of Phorcys' seed, a great God of the seas.
      She mix'd with Neptune in his hollow caves,
      And bore this Cyclop to that God of waves.
      For whose lost eye, th' Earth-shaker did not kill              125
      Erring Ulysses, but reserves him still
      In life for more death. But use we our powers,
      And round about us cast these cares of ours,
      All to discover how we may prefer
      His wished retreat, and Neptune make forbear                   130
      His stern eye to him, since no one God can,
      In spite of all, prevail, but 'gainst a man."
        To this, this answer made the grey-eyed Maid:
      "Supreme of rulers, since so well apaid
      The blessed Gods are all then, now, in thee,                   135
      To limit wise Ulysses' misery,
      And that you speak as you referred to me
      Prescription for the means, in this sort be
      Their sacred order: Let us now address
      With utmost speed our swift Argicides,                         140
      To tell the nymph that bears the golden tress
      In th' isle Ogygia, that 'tis our will
      She should not stay our loved Ulysses still,
      But suffer his return; and then will I
      To Ithaca, to make his son apply                               145
      His sire's inquest the more; infusing force
      Into his soul, to summon the concourse
      Of curl'd-head Greeks to council, and deter
      Each wooer, that hath been the slaughterer
      Of his fat sheep and crooked-headed beeves,                    150
      From more wrong to his mother, and their leaves
      Take in such terms, as fit deserts so great.
      To Sparta then, and Pylos, where doth beat
      Bright Amathus, the flood, and epithet
      To all that kingdom, my advice shall send                      155
      The spirit-advanced Prince, to the pious end
      Of seeking his lost father, if he may
      Receive report from Fame where rests his stay,
      And make, besides, his own sucessive worth
      Known to the world, and set in action forth."                  160
        This said, her wing'd shoes to her feet she tied,
      Formed all of gold, and all eternified,
      That on the round earth or the sea sustain'd
      Her ravish'd substance swift as gusts of wind.
      Then took she her strong lance with steel made keen,           165
      Great, massy, active, that whole hosts of men,
      Though all heroes, conquers, if her ire
      Their wrongs inflame, back'd by so great a Sire.
      Down from Olympus' tops she headlong dived,
      And swift as thought in Ithaca arriv'd,                        170
      Close at Ulysses' gates; in whose first court
      She made her stand, and, for her breast's support,
      Leaned on her iron lance; her form impress'd
      With Mentas' likeness, come, as being a guest.
      There found she those proud wooers, that were then             175
      Set on those ox-hides that themselves had slain,
      Before the gates, and all at dice were playing.
      To them the heralds, and the rest obeying,
      Fill'd wine and water; some, still as they play'd,
      And some, for solemn supper's state, purvey'd,                 180
      With porous sponges, cleansing tables, serv'd
      With much rich feast; of which to all they kerv'd.
        God-like Telemachus amongst them sat,
      Griev'd much in mind; and in his heart begat
      All representment of his absent sire,                          185
      How, come from far-off parts, his spirits would fire
      With those proud wooers' sight, with slaughter parting
      Their bold concourse, and to himself converting
      The honours they usurp'd, his own commanding.
        In this discourse, he first saw Pallas standing,             190
      Unbidden entry; up rose, and address'd
      His pace right to her, angry that a guest
      Should stand so long at gate; and, coming near,
      Her right hand took, took in his own her spear,
      And thus saluted: "Grace to your repair,                       195
      Fair guest, your welcome shall be likewise fair.
      Enter, and, cheer'd with feast, disclose th' intent
      That caused your coming." This said, first he went,
      And Pallas follow'd. To a room they came,
      Steep, and of state; the javelin of the Dame                   200
      He set against a pillar vast and high,
      Amidst a large and bright-kept armory,
      Which was, besides, with woods of lances grac'd
      Of his grave father's. In a throne he plac'd
      The man-turn'd Goddess, under which was spread                 205
      A carpet, rich and of deviceful thread;
      A footstool staying her feet; and by her chair
      Another seat (all garnish'd wondrous fair,
      To rest or sleep on in the day) he set,
      Far from the prease of wooers, lest at meat                    210
      The noise they still made might offend his guest,
      Disturbing him at banquet or at rest,
      Even to his combat with that pride of theirs,
      That kept no noble form in their affairs.
      And these he set far from them, much the rather                215
      To question freely of his absent father.
        A table fairly-polish'd then was spread,
      On which a reverend officer set bread,
      And other servitors all sorts of meat
      (Salads, and flesh, such as their haste could get)             220
      Serv'd with observance in. And then the sewer
      Pour'd water from a great and golden ewer,
      That from their hands t' a silver caldron ran.
      Both wash'd, and seated close, the voiceful man
      Fetch'd cups of gold, and set by them, and round               225
      Those cups with wine with all endeavour crown'd.
        Then rush'd in the rude wooers, themselves plac'd;
      The heralds water gave; the maids in haste
      Serv'd bread from baskets. When, of all prepar'd
      And set before them, the bold wooers shar'd,                   230
      Their pages plying their cups past the rest.
      But lusty wooers must do more than feast;
      For now, their hungers and their thirsts allay'd,
      They call'd for songs and dances; those, they said,
      Were th' ornaments of feast. The herald straight               235
      A harp, carv'd full of artificial sleight,
      Thrust into Phemius', a learn'd singer's, hand,
      Who, till he much was urged, on terms did stand,
      But, after, play'd and sung with all his art.
        Telemachus to Pallas then (apart,                            240
      His ear inclining close, that none might hear)
      In this sort said: "My guest, exceeding dear,
      Will you not sit incens'd with what I say?
      These are the cares these men take; feast and play.
      Which eas'ly they may use, because they eat,                   245
      Free and unpunish'd, of another's meat;
      And of a man's, whose white bones wasting lie
      In some far region, with th' incessancy
      Of showers pour'd down upon them, lying ashore,
      Or in the seas wash'd naked. Who, if he wore                   250
      Those bones with flesh and life and industry,
      And these might here in Ithaca set eye
      On him return'd, they all would wish to be
      Either past other in celerity
      Of feet and knees, and not contend t' exceed                   255
      In golden garments. But his virtues feed
      The fate of ill death; nor is left to me
      The least hope of his life's recovery,
      No, not if any of the mortal race
      Should tell me his return; the cheerful face                   260
      Of his return'd day never will appear.
      But tell me, and let Truth your witness bear,
      Who, and from whence you are? What city's birth?
      What parents? In what vessel set you forth?
      And with what mariners arrived you here?                       265
      I cannot think you a foot passenger.
      Recount then to me all, to teach me well
      Fit usage for your worth. And if it fell
      In chance now first that you thus see us here,
      Or that in former passages you were                            270
      My father's guest? For many men have been
      Guests to my father. Studious of men
      His sociable nature ever was."
      On him again the grey-eyed Maid did pass
      This kind reply: "I'll answer passing true                     275
      All thou hast ask'd: My birth his honour drew
      From wise Anchialus. The name I bear
      Is Mentas, the commanding islander
      Of all the Taphians studious in the art
      Of navigation; having touch'd this part                        280
      With ship and men, of purpose to maintain
      Course through the dark seas t' other-languag'd men;
      And Temesis sustains the city's name
      For which my ship is bound, made known by fame
      For rich in brass, which my occasions need,                    285
      And therefore bring I shining steel in stead,
      Which their use wants, yet makes my vessel's freight,
      That near a plough'd field rides at anchor's weight,
      Apart this city, in the harbour call'd
      Rethrus, whose waves with Neius' woods are wall'd.             290
      Thy sire and I were ever mutual guests,
      At either's house still interchanging feasts.
      I glory in it. Ask, when thou shalt see
      Laertes, th' old heroe, these of me,
      From the beginning. He, men say, no more                       295
      Visits the city, but will needs deplore
      His son's believed loss in a private field;
      One old maid only at his hands to yield
      Food to his life, as oft as labour makes
      His old limbs faint; which, though he creeps, he takes         300
      Along a fruitful plain, set all with vines,
      Which husbandman-like, though a king, he proins.
      But now I come to be thy father's guest;
      I hear he wanders, while these wooers feast.
      And (as th' Immortals prompt me at this hour)                  305
      I'll tell thee, out of a prophetic power,
      (Not as profess'd a prophet, nor clear seen
      At all times what shall after chance to men)
      What I conceive, for this time, will be true:
      The Gods' inflictions keep your sire from you.                 310
      Divine Ulysses, yet, abides not dead
      Above earth, nor beneath, nor buried
      In any seas, as you did late conceive,
      But, with the broad sea sieged, is kept alive
      Within an isle by rude and upland men,                         315
      That in his spite his passage home detain.
      Yet long it shall not be before he tread
      His country's dear earth, though solicited,
      And held from his return, with iron chains;
      For he hath wit to forge a world of trains,                    320
      And will, of all, be sure to make good one
      For his return, so much relied upon.
      But tell me, and be true: Art thou indeed
      So much a son, as to be said the seed
      Of Ithacus himself? Exceeding much                             325
      Thy forehead and fair eyes at his form touch;
      For oftentimes we met, as you and I
      Meet at this hour, before he did apply
      His powers for Troy, when other Grecian states
      In hollow ships were his associates.                           330
      But, since that time, mine eyes could never see
      Renown'd Ulysses, nor met his with me."
        The wise Telemachus again replied:
      "You shall with all I know be satisfied.
      My mother certain says I am his son;                           335
      I know not; nor was ever simply known
      By any child the sure truth of his sire.
      But would my veins had took in living fire
      From some man happy, rather than one wise,
      Whom age might see seis'd of what youth made prise.            340
      But he whoever of the mortal race
      Is most unblest, he holds my father's place.
      This, since you ask, I answer." She, again:
        "The Gods sure did not make the future strain
      Both of thy race and days obscure to thee,                     345
      Since thou wert born so of Penelope.
      The style may by thy after act be won,
      Of so great sire the high undoubted son.
        Say truth in this then: What's this feasting here?
      What all this rout? Is all this nuptial cheer?                 350
      Or else some friendly banquet made by thee?
      For here no shots are, where all sharers be.
      Past measure contumeliously this crew
      Fare through thy house; which should th' ingenuous view
      Of any good or wise man come and find,                         355
      (Impiety seeing play'd in every kind)
      He could not but through every vein be mov'd."
        Again Telemachus: "My guest much loved,
      Since you demand and sift these sights so far,
      I grant 'twere fit a house so regular,                         360
      Rich, and so faultless once in government,
      Should still at all parts the same form present
      That gave it glory while her lord was here.
      But now the Gods, that us displeasure bear,
      Have otherwise appointed, and disgrace                         365
      My father most of all the mortal race.
      For whom I could not mourn so were he dead,
      Amongst his fellow captains slaughtered
      By common enemies, or in the hands
      Of his kind friends had ended his commands,                    370
      After he had egregiously bestow'd
      His power and order in a war so vow'd,
      And to his tomb all Greeks their grace had done,
      That to all ages he might leave his son
      Immortal honour; but now Harpies have                          375
      Digg'd in their gorges his abhorred grave.
      Obscure, inglorious, death hath made his end,
      And me, for glories, to all griefs contend.
      Nor shall I any more mourn him alone,
      The Gods have given me other cause of moan.                    380
      For look how many optimates remain
      In Samos, or the shores Dulichian,
      Shady Zacynthus, or how many bear
      Rule in the rough brows of this island here;
      So many now my mother and this house                           385
      At all parts make defamed and ruinous;
      And she her hateful nuptials nor denies,
      Nor will dispatch their importunities,
      Though she beholds them spoil still as they feast
      All my free house yields, and the little rest                  390
      Of my dead sire in me perhaps intend
      To bring ere long to some untimely end."
        This Pallas sigh'd and answer'd: "O," said she,
      "Absent Ulysses is much miss'd by thee,
      That on thee shameless suitors he might lay                    395
      His wreakful hands. Should he now come, and stay
      In thy court's first gates, arm'd with helm and shield,
      And two such darts as I have seen him wield,
      When first I saw him in our Taphian court,
      Feasting, and doing his desert's disport;                      400
      When from Ephyrus he return'd by us
      From Ilus, son to Centaur Mermerus,
      To whom he travell'd through the watery dreads,
      For bane to poison his sharp arrows' heads,
      That death, but touch'd, caused; which he would not give,      405
      Because he fear'd the Gods that ever live
      Would plague such death with death; and yet their fear
      Was to my father's bosom not so dear
      As was thy father's love; (for what he sought
      My loving father found him to a thought.)                      410
      If such as then Ulysses might but meet
      With these proud wooers, all were at his feet
      But instant dead men, and their nuptials
      Would prove as bitter as their dying galls.
      But these things in the Gods' knees are reposed,               415
      If his return shall see with wreak inclosed,
      These in his house, or he return no more;
      And therefore I advise thee to explore
      All ways thyself, to set these wooers gone;
      To which end give me fit attention:                            420
      To-morrow into solemn council call
      The Greek heroes, and declare to all
      (The Gods being witness) what thy pleasure is.
      Command to towns of their nativity,
      These frontless wooers. If thy mother's mind                   425
      Stands to her second nuptials so inclined,
      Return she to her royal father's towers,
      Where th' one of these may wed her, and her dowers
      Make rich, and such as may consort with grace
      So dear a daughter of so great a race.                         430
      And thee I warn as well (if thou as well
      Wilt hear and follow) take thy best built sail,
      With twenty oars mann'd, and haste t' inquire
      Where the abode is of thy absent sire,
      If any can inform thee, or thine ear                           435
      From Jove the fame of his retreat may hear,
      For chiefly Jove gives all that honours men.
        To Pylos first be thy addression then,
      To god-like Nestor; thence to Sparta haste,
      To gold-lock'd Menelaus, who was last                          440
      Of all the brass-arm'd Greeks that sail'd from Troy;
      And try from both these, if thou canst enjoy
      News of thy sire's returned life, anywhere,
      Though sad thou suffer'st in his search a year.
      If of his death thou hear'st, return thou home,                445
      And to his memory erect a tomb,
      Performing parent-rites, of feast and game,
      Pompous, and such as best may fit his fame;
      And then thy mother a fit husband give.
      These past, consider how thou mayst deprive                    450
      Of worthless life these wooers in thy house,
      By open force, or projects enginous.
      Thing childish fit not thee; th' art so no more.
      Hast thou not heard, how all men did adore
      Divine Orestes, after he had slain                             455
      Ægisthus murdering by a treacherous train
      His famous father? Be then, my most loved,
      Valiant and manly, every way approved
      As great as he. I see thy person fit,
      Noble thy mind, and excellent thy wit,                         460
      All given thee so to use and manage here
      That even past death they may their memories bear.
      In mean time I'll descend to ship and men,
      That much expect me. Be observant then
      Of my advice, and careful to maintain                          465
      In equal acts thy royal father's reign."
        Telemachus replied: "You ope, fair guest,
      A friend's heart in your speech, as well express'd
      As might a father serve t' inform his son;
      All which sure place have in my memory won.                    470
      Abide yet, though your voyage calls away,
      That, having bath'd, and dignified your stay
      With some more honour, you may yet beside
      Delight your mind by being gratified
      With some rich present taken in your way,                      475
      That, as a jewel, your respect may lay
      Up in your treasury, bestow'd by me,
      As free friends use to guests of such degree."
        "Detain me not," said she, "so much inclined
      To haste my voyage. What thy loved mind                        480
      Commands to give, at my return this way,
      Bestow on me, that I directly may
      Convey it home; which more of price to me
      The more it asks my recompence to thee."
        This said, away grey-eyed Minerva flew,                      485
      Like to a mounting lark; and did endue
      His mind with strength and boldness, and much more
      Made him his father long for than before;
      And weighing better who his guest might be,
      He stood amaz'd, and thought a Deity                           490
      Was there descended; to whose will he fram'd
      His powers at all parts, and went so inflam'd
      Amongst the wooers, who were silent set,
      To hear a poet sing the sad retreat
      The Greeks perform'd from Troy; which was from thence          495
      Proclaim'd by Pallas, pain of her offence.
        When which divine song was perceived to bear
      That mournful subject by the listening ear
      Of wise Penelope, Icarius' seed,
      Who from an upper room had given it heed,                      500
      Down she descended by a winding stair,
      Not solely, but the state in her repair
      Two maids of honour made. And when this queen
      Of women stoop'd so low, she might be seen
      By all her wooers. In the door, aloof,                         505
      Entering the hall grac'd with a goodly roof,
      She stood, in shade of graceful veils, implied
      About her beauties; on her either side,
      Her honour'd women. When, to tears mov'd, thus
      She chid the sacred singer: "Phemius,                          510
      You know a number more of these great deeds
      Of Gods and men, that are the sacred seeds,
      And proper subjects, of a poet's song,
      And those due pleasures that to men belong,
      Besides these facts that furnish Troy's retreat,               515
      Sing one of those to these, that round your seat
      They may with silence sit, and taste their wine;
      But cease this song, that through these ears of mine
      Conveys deserv'd occasion to my heart
      Of endless sorrows, of which the desert                        520
      In me unmeasur'd is past all these men,
      So endless is the memory I retain,
      And so desertful is that memory,
      Of such a man as hath a dignity
      So broad it spreads itself through all the pride               525
      Of Greece and Argos." To the queen replied
      Inspired Telemachus: "Why thus envies
      My mother him that fits societies
      With so much harmony, to let him please
      His own mind in his will to honour these?                      530
      For these ingenious and first sort of men,
      That do immediately from Jove retain
      Their singing rapture, are by Jove as well
      Inspir'd with choice of what their songs impell,
      Jove's will is free in it, and therefore theirs.               535
      Nor is this man to blame, that the repairs
      The Greeks make homeward sings; for his fresh muse
      Men still most celebrate that sings most news.
        And therefore in his note your ears employ:
      For not Ulysses only lost in Troy                              540
      The day of his return, but numbers more
      The deadly ruins of his fortunes bore.
      Go you then in, and take your work in hand,
      Your web, and distaff; and your maids command
      To ply their fit work. Words to men are due,                   545
      And those reproving counsels you pursue,
      And most to me of all men, since I bear
      The rule of all things that are managed here."
      She went amaz'd away, and in her heart
      Laid up the wisdom Pallas did impart                           550
      To her lov'd son so lately, turn'd again
      Up to her chamber, and no more would reign
      In manly counsels. To her women she
      Applied her sway; and to the wooers he
      Began new orders, other spirits bewray'd                       555
      Than those in spite of which the wooers sway'd.
      And (whiles his mother's tears still wash'd her eyes,
      Till grey Minerva did those tears surprise
      With timely sleep, and that her wooers did rouse
      Rude tumult up through all the shady house,                    560
      Disposed to sleep because their widow was)
      Telemachus this new-given spirit did pass
      On their old insolence: "Ho! you that are
      My mother's wooers! Much too high ye bear
      Your petulant spirits; sit; and, while ye may                  565
      Enjoy me in your banquets, see ye lay
      These loud notes down, nor do this man the wrong,
      Because my mother hath disliked his song,
      To grace her interruption. 'Tis a thing
      Honest, and honour'd too, to hear one sing                     570
      Numbers so like the Gods in elegance,
      As this man flows in. By the morn's first light,
      I'll call ye all before me in a Court,
      That I may clearly banish your resort,
      With all your rudeness, from these roofs of mine.              575
      Away; and elsewhere in your feasts combine.
      Consume your own goods, and make mutual feast
      At either's house. Or if ye still hold best,
      And for your humours' more sufficed fill,
      To feed, to spoil, because unpunish'd still,                   580
      On other findings, spoil; but here I call
      Th' Eternal Gods to witness, if it fall
      In my wish'd reach once to be dealing wreaks,
      By Jove's high bounty, these your present checks
      To what I give in charge shall add more reins                  585
      To my revenge hereafter; and the pains
      Ye then must suffer shall pass all your pride
      Ever to see redress'd, or qualified."
        At this all bit their lips, and did admire
      His words sent from him with such phrase and fire;             590
      Which so much mov'd them that Antinous,
      Eupitheus' son, cried out: "Telemachus!
      The Gods, I think, have rapt thee to this height
      Of elocution, and this great conceit
      Of self-ability. We all may pray,                              595
      That Jove invest not in this kingdom's sway
      Thy forward forces, which I see put forth
      A hot ambition in thee for thy birth."
        "Be not offended," he replied, "if I
      Shall say, I would assume this empery,                         600
      If Jove gave leave. You are not he that sings:
      'The rule of kingdoms is the worst of things'.
      Nor is it ill, at all, to sway a throne;
      A man may quickly gain possession
      Of mighty riches, make a wondrous prize                        605
      Set of his virtues; but the dignities
      That deck a king, there are enough beside
      In this circumfluous isle that want no pride
      To think them worthy of, as young as I,
      And old as you are. An ascent so high                          610
      My thoughts affect not. Dead is he that held
      Desert of virtue to have so excell'd.
      But of these turrets I will take on me
      To be the absolute king, and reign as free,
      As did my father, over all his hand                            615
      Left here in this house slaves to my command."
        Eurymachus, the son of Polybus,
      To this made this reply: "Telemachus!
      The girlond of this kingdom let the knees
      Of Deity run for; but the faculties                            620
      This house is seised of, and the turrets here,
      Thou shalt be lord of, nor shall any bear
      The least part off of all thou dost possess,
      As long as this land is no wilderness,
      Nor ruled by out-laws. But give these their pass,              625
      And tell me, best of princes, who he was
      That guested here so late? From whence? And what
      In any region boasted he his state?
      His race? His country? Brought he any news
      Of thy returning father? Or for dues                           630
      Of moneys to him made he fit repair?
      How suddenly he rush'd into the air,
      Nor would sustain to stay and make him known!
      His port show'd no debauch'd companion."
        He answer'd: "The return of my lov'd sire                    635
      Is past all hope; and should rude Fame inspire
      From any place a flattering messenger
      With news of his survival, he should bear
      No least belief off from my desperate love.
      Which if a sacred prophet should approve,                      640
      Call'd by my mother for her care's unrest,
      It should not move me. For my late fair guest,
      He was of old my father's, touching here
      From sea-girt Taphos, and for name doth bear
      Mentas, the son of wise Anchialus,                             645
      And governs all the Taphians studious
      Of navigation." This he said, but knew
      It was a Goddess. These again withdrew
      To dances and attraction of the song;
      And while their pleasures did the time prolong,                650
      The sable Even descended, and did steep
      The lids of all men in desire of sleep.
        Telemachus, into a room built high
      Of his illustrious court, and to the eye
      Of circular prospect, to his bed ascended,                     655
      And in his mind much weighty thought contended.
      Before him Euryclea (that well knew
      All the observance of a handmaid's due,
      Daughter to Opis Pisenorides)
      Bore two bright torches; who did so much please                660
      Laertes in her prime, that, for the price
      Of twenty oxen, he made merchandize
      Of her rare beauties; and love's equal flame
      To her he felt, as to his nuptial dame,
      Yet never durst he mix with her in bed,                        665
      So much the anger of his wife he fled.
      She, now grown old, to young Telemachus
      Two torches bore, and was obsequious
      Past all his other maids, and did apply
      Her service to him from his infancy.                           670
      His well-built chamber reach'd, she op'd the door,
      He on his bed sat, the soft weeds he wore
      Put off, and to the diligent old maid
      Gave all; who fitly all in thick folds laid,
      And hung them on a beam-pin near the bed,                      675
      That round about was rich embroidered.
      Then made she haste forth from him, and did bring
      The door together with a silver ring,
      And by a string a bar to it did pull.
      He, laid, and cover'd well with curled wool                    680
      Woven in silk quilts, all night employ'd his mind
      About the task that Pallas had design'd.




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