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



RECEIVED now in the Spartan court,
Telemachus prefers report
To Menelaus of the throng
Of Wooers with him, and their wrong.
Atrides tells the Greeks' retreat,
And doth a prophecy repeat
That Proteus made, by which he knew
His brother's death; and then doth show
How with Calypso lived the sire
Of his young guest. The Wooers conspire
Their prince's death. Whose treachery known,
Penelope in tears doth drown.
Whom Pallas by a dream doth cheer,
And in similitude appear
Of fair Iphthima, known to be
The sister of Penelope.


Here of the sire
The son doth hear.
The Wooers conspire.
The Mother's fear.

N Lacedæmon now, the nurse of whales,
      These two arriv'd, and found at festivals,
      With mighty concourse, the renowned king,
      His son and daughter jointly marrying.
      Alector's daughter he did give his son,                          5
      Strong Megapenthes, who his life begun
      By Menelaus' bondmaid; whom he knew
      In years when Helen could no more renew
      In issue like divine Hermione,
      Who held in all fair form as high degree                        10
      As golden Venus. Her he married now
      To great Achilles' son, who was by vow
      Betrothed to her at Troy. And thus the Gods
      To constant loves give nuptial periods.
      Whose state here past, the Myrmidons' rich town                 15
      (Of which she shar'd in the imperial crown)
      With horse and chariots he resign'd her to.
      Mean space, the high huge house with feast did flow
      Of friends and neighbours, joying with the king.
      Amongst whom did a heavenly poet sing,                          20
      And touch his harp. Amongst whom likewise danc'd
      Two, who in that dumb motion advanc'd,
      Would prompt the singer what to sing and play.
      All this time in the utter court did stay,
      With horse and chariot, Telemachus,                             25
      And Nestor's noble son Pisistratus.
      Whom Eteoneus, coming forth, descried,
      And, being a servant to the king, most tried
      In care and his respect, he ran and cried:
      "Guests, Jove-kept Menelaus, two such men                       30
      As are for form of high Saturnius' strain.
      Inform your pleasure, if we shall unclose
      Their horse from coach, or say they must dispose
      Their way to some such house, as may embrace
      Their known arrival with more welcome grace?"                   35
        He, angry, answer'd: "Thou didst never show
      Thyself a fool, Boethides, till now;
      But now, as if turn'd child, a childish speech
      Vents thy vain spirits. We ourselves now reach
      Our home by much spent hospitality                              40
      Of other men; nor know if Jove will try
      With other after-wants our state again;
      And therefore from our feast no more detain
      Those welcome guests, but take their steeds from coach,
      And with attendance guide in their approach."                   45
        This said, he rush'd abroad, and call'd some more
      Tried in such service, that together bore
      Up to the guests, and took their steeds that swet
      Beneath their yokes from coach; at mangers set,
      Wheat and white barley gave them mix'd; and plac'd              50
      Their chariot by a wall so clear, it cast
      A light quite through it. And then they led
      Their guests to the divine house; which so fed
      Their eyes at all parts with illustrious sights,
      That admiration seized them. Like the lights                    55
      The sun and moon gave, all the palace threw
      A lustre through it. Satiate with whose view,
      Down to the king's most bright-kept baths they went;
      Where handmaids did their services present,
      Bath'd, balm'd them, shirts and well-napt weeds put on,         60
      And by Atrides' side set each his throne.
      Then did the handmaid-royal water bring,
      And to a laver, rich and glittering,
      Of massy gold, pour'd; which she plac'd upon
      A silver caldron, into which might run                          65
      The water as they wash'd. Then set she near
      A polish'd table, on which all the cheer
      The present could afford a reverend dame,
      That kept the larder, set. A cook then came,
      And divers dishes, borne thence, serv'd again;                  70
      Furnish'd the board with bowls of gold. And then,
      His right hand given the guests, Atrides said:
      "Eat, and be cheerful. Appetite allay'd,
      I long to ask, of what stock ye descend;
      For not from parents whose race nameless end                    75
      We must derive your offspring. Men obscure
      Could get none such as you. The portraiture
      Of Jove-sustain'd and sceptre-bearing kings
      Your either person in his presence brings."
      An ox's fat chine then they up did lift,                        80
      And set before the guests; which was a gift,
      Sent as an honour to the king's own taste.
      They saw yet 'twas but to be eaten plac'd,
      And fell to it. But food and wine's care past,
      Telemachus thus prompted Nestor's son,                          85
      (His ear close laying, to be heard of none)
        "Consider, thou whom most my mind esteems,
      The brass-work here, how rich it is in beams,
      And how, besides, it makes the whole house sound;
      What gold, and amber, silver, ivory, round                      90
      Is wrought about it. Out of doubt, the hall
      Of Jupiter Olympius hath of all
      This state the like. How many infinites
      Take up to admiration all men's sights!"
        Atrides over-heard, and said: "Lov'd son,                     95
      No mortal must affect contention
      With Jove, whose dwellings are of endless date.
      Perhaps of men some one may emulate,
      Or none, my house, or me; for I am one
      That many a grave extreme have undergone,                      100
      Much error felt by sea, and till th' eighth year,
      Had never stay, but wander'd far and near,
      Cyprus, Phoenicia, and Sidonia,
      And fetch'd the far-off Æthiopia,
      Reach'd the Erembi of Arabia,                                  105
      And Lybia, where with horns ewes yean their lambs,
      Which every full year ewes are three times dams,
      Where neither king, nor shepherd, want comes near
      Of cheese, or flesh, or sweet milk; all the year
      They ever milk their ewes. And here while I                    110
      Err'd, gathering means to live, one, murderously,
      Unwares, unseen, bereft my brother's life,
      Chiefly betray'd by his abhorred wife.
      So hold I, not enjoying, what you see.
      And of your fathers, if they living be,                        115
      You must have heard this, since my sufferings were
      So great and famous; from this palace here
      (So rarely-well-built, furnished so well,
      And substanced with such a precious deal
      Of well-got treasure) banish'd by the doom                     120
      Of Fate, and erring as I had no home.
      And now I have, and use it, not to take
      Th' entire delight it offers, but to make
      Continual wishes, that a triple part
      Of all it holds were wanting, so my heart                      125
      Were eas'd of sorrows, taken for their deaths
      That fell at Troy, by their revived breaths.
      And thus sit I here weeping, mourning still
      Each least man lost; and sometimes make mine ill,
      In paying just tears for their loss, my joy.                   130
      Sometimes I breathe my woes, for in annoy
      The pleasure soon admits satiety.
      But all these men's wants wet not so mine eye,
      Though much they move me, as one sole man's miss,
      For which my sleep and meat even loathsome is                  135
      In his renew'd thought, since no Greek hath won
      Grace for such labours as Laertes' son
      Hath wrought and suffer'd, to himself nought else
      But future sorrows forging, to me hells
      For his long absence, since I cannot know                      140
      If life or death detain him; since such woe
      For his love, old Laertes, his wise wife,
      And poor young son sustains, whom new with life
      He left as sireless." This speech grief to tears
      (Pour'd from the son's lids on the earth) his ears,            145
      Told of the father, did excite; who kept
      His cheeks dry with his red weed as he wept,
      His both hands used therein. Atrides then
      Began to know him, and did strife retain,
      If he should let himself confess his sire,                     150
      Or with all fitting circumstance enquire.
        While this his thoughts disputed, forth did shine,
      Like to the golden distaff-deck'd Divine,
      From her bed's high and odoriferous room,
      Helen. To whom, of an elaborate loom,                          155
      Adresta set a chair; Alcippe brought
      A piece of tapestry of fine wool wrought;
      Phylo a silver cabinet conferr'd,
      Given by Alcandra, nuptially endear'd
      To lord Polybius, whose abode in Thebes                        160
      Th' Ægyptian city was, where wealth in heaps
      His famous house held, out of which did go,
      In gift t' Atrides, silver bath-tubs two,
      Two tripods, and of fine gold talents ten.
      His wife did likewise send to Helen then                       165
      Fair gifts, a distaff that of gold was wrought,
      And that rich cabinet that Phylo brought,
      Round, and with gold ribb'd, now of fine thread full;
      On which extended (crown'd with finest wool,
      Of violet gloss) the golden distaff lay.                       170
        She took her state-chair, and a foot-stool's stay
      Had for her feet; and of her husband thus
      Ask'd to know all things: "Is it known to us,
      King Menelaus, whom these men commend
      Themselves for, that our court now takes to friend?            175
      I must affirm, be I deceived or no,
      I never yet saw man nor woman so
      Like one another, as this man is like
      Ulysses' son. With admiration strike
      His looks my thoughts, that they should carry now              180
      Power to persuade me thus, who did but know,
      When newly he was born, the form they bore.
      But 'tis his father's grace, whom more and more
      His grace resembles, that makes me retain
      Thought that he now is like Telemachus, then                   185
      Left by his sire, when Greece did undertake
      Troy's bold war for my impudency's sake."
        He answer'd: "Now wife, what you think I know,
      The true cast of his father's eye doth show
      In his eyes order. Both his head and hair,                     190
      His hands and feet, his very father's are.
      Of whom, so well remember'd, I should now
      Acknowledge for me his continual flow
      Of cares and perils, yet still patient.
      But I should too much move him, that doth vent                 195
      Such bitter tears for that which hath been spoke,
      Which, shunning soft show, see how he would cloak,
      And with his purple weed his weepings hide."
        Then Nestor's son, Pisistratus, replied:
      "Great pastor of the people, kept of God!                      200
      He is Ulysses' son, but his abode
      Not made before here, and he modest too,
      He holds it an indignity to do
      A deed so vain, to use the boast of words,
      Where your words are on wing; whose voice affords              205
      Delight to us as if a God did break
      The air amongst us, and vouchsafe to speak.
      But me my father, old duke Nestor, sent
      To be his consort hither; his content
      Not to be heighten'd so as with your sight,                    210
      In hope that therewith words and actions might
      Inform his comforts from you, since he is
      Extremely grieved and injured by the miss
      Of his great father; suffering even at home,
      And few friends found to help him overcome                     215
      His too weak suff'rance, now his sire is gone;
      Amongst the people, not afforded one
      To check the miseries that mate him thus.
      And this the state is of Telemachus."
        "O Gods," said he, "how certain, now, I see                  220
      My house enjoys that friend's son, that for me
      Hath undergone so many willing fights!
      Whom I resolved, past all the Grecian knights,
      To hold in love, if our return by seas
      The far-off Thunderer did ever please                          225
      To grant our wishes. And to his respect
      A palace and a city to erect,
      My vow had bound me; whither bringing then
      His riches, and his son, and all his men,
      From barren Ithaca, (some one sole town                        230
      Inhabited about him batter'd down)
      All should in Argos live. And there would I
      Ease him of rule, and take the empery
      Of all on me. And often here would we,
      Delighting, loving either's company,                           235
      Meet and converse; whom nothing should divide,
      Till death's black veil did each all over hide.
      But this perhaps hath been a mean to take
      Even God himself with envy; who did make
      Ulysses therefore only the unblest,                            240
      That should not reach his loved country's rest."
        These woes made every one with woe in love;
      Even Argive Helen wept, the seed of Jove;
      Ulysses' son wept; Atreus' son did weep;
      And Nestor's son his eyes in tears did steep,                  245
      But his tears fell not from the present cloud
      That from Ulysses was exhaled, but flow'd
      From brave Antilochus' remember'd due,
      Whom the renown'd Son of the Morning slew,
      Which yet he thus excused: "O Atreus' son!                     250
      Old Nestor says, there lives not such a one
      Amongst all mortals as Atrides is
      For deathless wisdom. 'Tis a praise of his,
      Still given in your remembrance, when at home
      Our speech concerns you. Since then overcome                   255
      You please to be with sorrow, even to tears,
      That are in wisdom so exempt from peers,
      Vouchsafe the like effect in me excuse,
      If it be lawful, I affect no use
      Of tears thus after meals; at least, at night;                 260
      But when the morn brings forth, with tears, her light,
      It shall not then impair me to bestow
      My tears on any worthy's overthrow.
      It is the only rite that wretched men
      Can do dead friends, to cut hair, and complain.                265
      But Death my brother took, whom none could call
      The Grecian coward, you best knew of all.
      I was not there, nor saw, but men report
      Antilochus excell'd the common sort
      For footmanship, or for the chariot race,                      270
      Or in the fight for hardy hold of place."
        "O friend," said he, "since thou hast spoken so,
      At all parts as one wise should say and do,
      And like one far beyond thyself in years,
      Thy words shall bounds be to our former tears.                 275
      O he is questionless a right born son,
      That of his father hath not only won
      The person but the wisdom; and that sire
      Complete himself that hath a son entire,
      Jove did not only his full fate adorn,                         280
      When he was wedded, but when he was born.
      As now Saturnius, through his life's whole date,
      Hath Nestor's bliss raised to as steep a state,
      Both in his age to keep in peace his house,
      And to have children wise and valorous.                        285
      But let us not forget our rear feast thus.
      Let some give water here. Telemachus!
      The morning shall yield time to you and me
      To do what fits, and reason mutually."
        This said, the careful servant of the king,                  290
      Asphalion, pour'd on th' issue of the spring;
      And all to ready feast set ready hand.
      But Helen now on new device did stand,
      Infusing straight a medicine to their wine,
      That, drowning cares and angers, did decline                   295
      All thought of ill. Who drunk her cup could shed
      All that day not a tear, no not if dead
      That day his father or his mother were,
      Not if his brother, child, or chiefest dear,
      He should see murder'd then before his face.                   300
      Such useful medicines, only borne in grace
      Of what was good, would Helen ever have.
      And this juice to her Polydamna gave
      The wife of Thoon, all Ægyptian born,
      Whose rich earth herbs of medicine do adorn                    305
      In great abundance. Many healthful are,
      And many baneful. Every man is there
      A good physician out of Nature's grace,
      For all the nation sprung of Paeon's race.
        When Helen then her medicine had infus'd,                    310
      She bad pour wine to it, and this speech us'd:
        "Atrides, and these good men's sons, great Jove
      Makes good and ill one after other move,
      In all things earthly; for he can do all.
      The woes past, therefore, he so late let fall,                 315
      The comforts he affords us let us take;
      Feast, and, with fit discourses, merry make.
      Nor will I other use. As then our blood
      Griev'd for Ulysses', since he was so good,
      Since he was good, let us delight to hear                      320
      How good he was, and what his sufferings were;
      Though every fight, and every suffering deed,
      Patient Ulysses underwent, exceed
      My woman's power to number, or to name.
      But what he did, and suffer'd, when he came                    325
      Amongst the Trojans, where ye Grecians all
      Took part with suff'rance, I in part can call
      To your kind memories. How with ghastly wounds
      Himself he mangled, and the Trojan bounds,
      Thrust thick with enemies, adventur'd on,                      330
      His royal shoulders having cast upon
      Base abject weeds, and enter'd like a slave.
      Then, beggar-like, he did of all men crave,
      And such a wretch was, as the whole Greek fleet
      Brought not besides. And thus through every street             335
      He crept discovering, of no one man known.
      And yet through all this difference, I alone
      Smoked his true person, talk'd with him; but he
      Fled me with wiles still. Nor could we agree,
      Till I disclaim'd him quite; and so (as mov'd                  340
      With womanly remorse of one that prov'd
      So wretched an estate, whate'er he were)
      Won him to take my house. And yet even there,
      Till freely I, to make him doubtless, swore
      A powerful oath, to let him reach the shore                    345
      Of ships and tents before Troy understood,
      I could not force on him his proper good.
      But then I bath'd and sooth'd him, and he then
      Confess'd, and told me all; and, having slain
      A number of the Trojan guards, retired,                        350
      And reach'd the fleet, for sleight and force admired.
      Their husbands' deaths by him the Trojan wives
      Shriek'd for; but I made triumphs for their lives,
      For then my heart conceiv'd, that once again
      I should reach home; and yet did still retain                  355
      Woe for the slaughters Venus made for me,
      When both my husband, my Hermione,
      And bridal room, she robb'd of so much right,
      And drew me from my country with her sleight,
      Though nothing under heaven I here did need,                   360
      That could my fancy or my beauty feed."
        Her husband said: "Wife! what you please to tell
      Is true at all parts, and becomes you well;
      And I myself, that now may say have seen
      The minds and manners of a world of men,                       365
      And great heroes, measuring many a ground,
      Have never, by these eyes that light me, found
      One with a bosom so to be beloved,
      As that in which th' accomplish'd spirit moved
      Of patient Ulysses. What, brave man,                           370
      He both did act, and suffer, when he wan
      The town of Ilion, in the brave-built horse,
      When all we chief states of the Grecian force
      Were hous'd together, bringing Death and Fate
      Amongst the Trojans, you, wife, may relate;                    375
      For you, at last, came to us; God, that would
      The Trojans' glory give, gave charge you should
      Approach the engine; and Deiphobus,
      The god-like, follow'd. Thrice ye circled us
      With full survey of it; and often tried                        380
      The hollow crafts that in it were implied.
      When all the voices of their wives in it
      You took on you with voice so like and fit,
      And every man by name so visited,
      That I, Ulysses, and king Diomed,                              385
      (Set in the midst, and hearing how you call'd)
      Tydides, and myself (as half appall'd
      With your remorseful plaints) would passing fain
      Have broke our silence, rather than again
      Endure, respectless, their so moving cries.                    390
      But Ithacus our strongest phantasies
      Contain'd within us from the slenderest noise,
      And every man there sat without a voice.
      Anticlus only would have answer'd thee,
      But his speech Ithacus incessantly                             395
      With strong hand held in, till, Minerva's call
      Charging thee off, Ulysses sav'd us all."
        Telemachus replied: "Much greater is
      My grief, for hearing this high praise of his.
      For all this doth not his sad death divert,                    400
      Nor can, though in him swell'd an iron heart.
      Prepare, and lead then, if you please, to rest:
      Sleep, that we hear not, will content us best."
        Then Argive Helen made her handmaid go,
      And put fair bedding in the portico,                           405
      Lay purple blankets on, rugs warm and soft,
      And cast an arras coverlet aloft.
        They torches took, made haste, and made the bed;
      When both the guests were to their lodgings led
      Within a portico without the house.                            410
      Atrides, and his large-train-wearing spouse,
      The excellent of women, for the way,
      In a retired receit, together lay.
      The Morn arose; the king rose, and put on
      His royal weeds, his sharp sword hung upon                     415
      His ample shoulders, forth his chamber went,
      And did the person of a God present.
        Telemachus accosts him, who begun
      Speech of his journey's proposition:
        "And what, my young Ulyssean heroe,                          420
      Provoked thee on the broad back of the sea,
      To visit Lacedaemon the divine?
      Speak truth, some public [good] or only thine?"
        "I come," said he, "to hear, if any fame
      Breath'd of my father to thy notice came.                      425
      My house is sack'd, my fat works of the field
      Are all destroy'd; my house doth nothing yield
      But enemies, that kill my harmless sheep,
      And sinewy oxen, nor will ever keep
      Their steels without them. And these men are they              430
      That woo my mother, most inhumanly
      Committing injury on injury.
      To thy knees therefore I am come, t' attend
      Relation of the sad and wretched end
      My erring father felt, if witness'd by                         435
      Your own eyes, or the certain news that fly
      From others' knowledges. For, more than is
      The usual heap of human miseries,
      His mother bore him to. Vouchsafe me then,
      Without all ruth of what I can sustain,                        440
      The plain and simple truth of all you know.
      Let me beseech so much, if ever vow
      Was made, and put in good effect to you,
      At Troy, where suff'rance bred you so much smart,
      Upon my father good Ulysses' part,                             445
      And quit it now to me (himself in youth)
      Unfolding only the unclosed truth."
        He, deeply sighing, answer'd him: "O shame,
      That such poor vassals should affect the fame
      To share the joys of such a worthy's bed!                      450
      As when a hind, her calves late farrowed,
      To give suck, enters the bold lion's den,
      He roots of hills and herby vallies then
      For food (there feeding) hunting; but at length
      Returning to his cavern, gives his strength                    455
      The lives of both the mother and her brood
      In deaths indecent; so the Wooers' blood
      Must pay Ulysses' powers as sharp an end.
      O would to Jove, Apollo, and thy friend
      The wise Minerva, that thy father were                         460
      As once he was, when he his spirits did rear
      Against Philomelides, in a fight
      Perform'd in well-built Lesbos, where, down-right
      He strook the earth with him, and gat a shout
      Of all the Grecians! O, if now full out                        465
      He were as then, and with the Wooers coped,
      Short-liv'd they all were, and their nuptials hoped
      Would prove as desperate. But, for thy demand
      Enforc'd with prayers, I'll let thee understand
      The truth directly, nor decline a thought,                     470
      Much less deceive, or sooth thy search in ought;
      But what the old and still-true-spoken God,
      That from the sea breathes oracles abroad,
      Disclosed to me, to thee I'll all impart,
      Nor hide one word from thy sollicitous heart.                  475
        I was in Ægypt, where a mighty time
      The Gods detained me, though my natural clime
      I never so desired, because their homes
      I did not greet with perfect hecatombs.
      For they will put men evermore in mind,                        480
      How much their masterly commandments bind.
        There is, besides, a certain island, called
      Pharos, that with the high-wav'd sea is wall'd,
      Just against Ægypt, and so much remote,
      As in a whole day, with a fore-gale smote,                     485
      A hollow ship can sail. And this isle bears
      A port most portly, where sea-passengers
      Put in still for fresh water, and away
      To sea again. Yet here the Gods did stay
      My fleet full twenty days; the winds, that are                 490
      Masters at sea, no prosp'rous puff would spare
      To put us off; and all my victuals here
      Had quite corrupted, as my men's minds were,
      Had not a certain Goddess given regard,
      And pitied me in an estate so hard;                            495
      And 'twas Idothea, honour'd Proteus' seed,
      That old sea-farer. Her mind I made bleed
      With my compassion, when (walk'd all alone,
      From all my soldiers, that were ever gone
      About the isle on fishing with hooks bent;                     500
      Hunger their bellies on her errand sent)
      She came close to me, spake, and thus began:
        'Of all men thou art the most foolish man,
      Or slack in business, or stay'st here of choice,
      And dost in all thy suff'rances rejoice,                       505
      That thus long liv'st detain'd here, and no end
      Canst give thy tarriance? Thou dost much offend
      The minds of all thy fellows.' I replied:
        'Whoever thou art of the Deified,
      I must affirm, that no way with my will                        510
      I make abode here; but, it seems, some ill
      The Gods, inhabiting broad heaven, sustain
      Against my getting off. Inform me then,
      For Godheads all things know, what God is he
      That stays my passage from the fishy sea?'                     515
        'Stranger,' said she, 'I'll tell thee true: There lives
      An old sea-farer in these seas, that gives
      A true solution of all secrets here,
      Who deathless Proteus is, th' Ægyptian peer,
      Who can the deeps of all the seas exquire,                     520
      Who Neptune's priest is, and, they say, the sire
      That did beget me. Him, if any way
      Thou couldst inveigle, he would clear display
      Thy course from hence, and how far off doth lie
      Thy voyage's whole scope through Neptune's sky.                525
      Informing thee, O God-preserved, beside,
      If thy desires would so be satisfied,
      Whatever good or ill hath got event,
      In all the time thy long and hard course spent,
      Since thy departure from thy house.' This said;                530
      Again I answer'd: 'Make the sleights display'd
      Thy father useth, lest his foresight see,
      Or his foreknowledge taking note of me,
      He flies the fixt place of his used abode.
      'Tis hard for man to countermine with God.'                    535
        She straight replied: 'I'll utter truth in all:
      When heaven's supremest height the sun doth skall,
      The old Sea-tell-truth leaves the deeps, and hides
      Amidst a black storm, when the West Wind chides,
      In caves still sleeping. Round about him sleep                 540
      (With short feet swimming forth the foamy deep)
      The sea-calves, lovely Halosydnes call'd,
      From whom a noisome odour is exhaled,
      Got from the whirl-pools, on whose earth they lie.
      Here, when the morn illustrates all the sky,                   545
      I'll guide, and seat thee in the fittest place
      For the performance thou hast now in chace.
      In mean time, reach thy fleet, and choose out three
      Of best exploit, to go as aids to thee.
        But now I'll show thee all the old God's sleights:           550
      He first will number, and take all the sights
      Of those his guard, that on the shore arrives.
      When having view'd, and told them forth by fives,
      He takes place in their midst, and there doth sleep,
      Like to a shepherd midst his flock of sheep.                   555
      In his first sleep, call up your hardiest cheer,
      Vigour and violence, and hold him there,
      In spite of all his strivings to be gone.
      He then will turn himself to every one
      Of all things that in earth creep and respire,                 560
      In water swim, or shine in heavenly fire.
      Yet still hold you him firm, and much the more
      Press him from passing. But when, as before,
      When sleep first bound his powers, his form ye see,
      Then cease your force, and th' old heroe free,                 565
      And then demand, which heaven-born it may be
      That so afflicts you, hindering your retreat,
      And free sea-passage to your native seat.'
        This said, she div'd into the wavy seas,
      And I my course did to my ships address,                       570
      That on the sands stuck; where arriv'd, we made
      Our supper ready. Then th' ambrosian shade
      Of night fell on us, and to sleep we fell.
      Rosy Aurora rose; we rose as well,
      And three of them on whom I most relied,                       575
      For firm at every force, I choosed, and hied
      Straight to the many-river-served seas;
      And all assistance ask'd the Deities.
        Mean time Idothea the sea's broad breast
      Embrac'd, and brought for me, and all my rest,                 580
      Four of the sea-calves' skins but newly flay'd,
      To work a wile which she had fashioned
      Upon her father. Then, within the sand
      A covert digging, when these calves should land,
      She sat expecting. We came close to her;                       585
      She plac'd us orderly, and made us wear
      Each one his calf's skin. But we then must pass
      A huge exploit. The sea-calf's savour was
      So passing sour, they still being bred at seas,
      It much afflicted us; for who can please                       590
      To lie by one of these same sea-bred whales?
      But she preserves us, and to memory calls
      A rare commodity; she fetch'd to us
      Ambrosia, that an air most odorous
      Bears still about it, which she nointed round                  595
      Our either nosthrils, and in it quite drown'd
      The nasty whale-smell. Then the great event
      The whole morn's date, with spirits patient,
      We lay expecting. When bright noon did flame,
      Forth from the sea in shoals the sea-calves came,              600
      And orderly, at last lay down and slept
      Along the sands. And then th' old Sea-God crept
      From forth the deeps, and found his fat calves there,
      Survey'd, and number'd, and came never near
      The craft we used, but told us five for calves.                605
      His temples then dis-eased with sleep he salves;
      And in rush'd we, with an abhorred cry,
      Cast all our hands about him manfully;
      And then th' old Forger all his forms began:
      First was a lion with a mighty mane,                           610
      Then next a dragon, a pied panther then,
      A vast boar next, and suddenly did strain
      All into water. Last he was a tree,
      Curl'd all at top, and shot up to the sky.
        We, with resolv'd hearts, held him firmly still,             615
      When th' old one (held too straight for all his skill
      To extricate) gave words, and question'd me:
        'Which of the Gods, O Atreus' son,' said he,
      'Advised and taught thy fortitude this sleight,
      To take and hold me thus in my despite?'                       620
      'What asks thy wish now?' I replied. 'Thou know'st.
      Why dost thou ask? What wiles are these thou show'st?
      I have within this isle been held for wind
      A wondrous time, and can by no means find
      An end to my retention. It hath spent                          625
      The very heart in me. Give thou then vent
      To doubts thus bound in me, ye Gods know all,
      Which of the Godheads doth so foully fall
      On my addression home, to stay me here,
      Avert me from my way, the fishy clear                          630
      Barr'd to my passage?' He replied: 'Of force,
      If to thy home thou wishest free recourse,
      To Jove, and all the other Deities,
      Thou must exhibit solemn sacrifice;
      And then the black sea for thee shall be clear,                635
      Till thy lov'd country's settled reach. But where
      Ask these rites thy performance? 'Tis a fate
      To thee and thy affairs appropriate,
      That thou shalt never see thy friends, nor tread
      Thy country's earth, nor see inhabited                         640
      Thy so magnificent house, till thou make good
      Thy voyage back to the Ægyptian flood,
      Whose waters fell from Jove, and there hast given
      To Jove, and all Gods housed in ample heaven,
      Devoted hecatombs, and then free ways                          645
      Shall open to thee, clear'd of all delays.'
        This told he; and, methought, he brake my heart,
      In such a long and hard course to divert
      My hope for home, and charge my back retreat
      As far as Ægypt. I made answer yet:                            650
        "Father, thy charge I'll perfect; but before
      Resolve me truly, if their natural shore
      All those Greeks, and their ships, do safe enjoy,
      That Nestor and myself left, when from Troy
      We first raised sail? Or whether any died                      655
      At sea a death unwish'd? Or, satisfied,
      When war was past, by friends embrac'd, in peace
      Resign'd their spirits?" He made answer: "Cease
      To ask so far. It fits thee not to be
      So cunning in thine own calamity.                              660
      Nor seek to learn what learn'd thou shouldst forget.
      Men's knowledges have proper limits set,
      And should not prease into the mind of God.
      But 'twill not long be, as my thoughts abode,
      Before thou buy this curious skill with tears.                 665
      Many of those, whose states so tempt thine ears,
      Are stoop'd by death, and many left alive,
      One chief of which in strong hold doth survive,
      Amidst the broad sea. Two, in their retreat,
      Are done to death. I list not to repeat                        670
      Who fell at Troy, thyself was there in fight.
      But in return swift Ajax lost the light,
      In his long-oar'd ship. Neptune, yet, awhile
      Saft him unwrack'd, to the Gyraean isle,
      A mighty rock removing from his way.                           675
      And surely he had 'scap'd the fatal day,
      In spite of Pallas, if to that foul deed
      He in her fane did, (when he ravished
      The Trojan prophetess) he had not here
      Adjoin'd an impious boast, that he would bear,                 680
      Despite the Gods, his ship safe through the waves
      Then raised against him. These his impious braves
      When Neptune heard, in his strong hand he took
      His massy trident, and so soundly strook
      The rock Gyraean, that in two it cleft;                        685
      Of which one fragment on the land he left,
      The other fell into the troubled seas,
      At which first rush'd Ajax Oiliades,
      And split his ship, and then himself afloat
      Swum on the rough waves of the world's vast mote,              690
      Till having drunk a salt cup for his sin,
      There perish'd he. Thy brother yet did win
      The wreath from death, while in the waves they strove,
      Afflicted by the reverend wife of Jove.
      But when the steep mount of the Malian shore                   695
      He seem'd to reach, a most tempestuous blore,
      Far to the fishy world that sighs so sore,
      Straight ravish'd him again as far away,
      As to th' extreme bounds where the Agrians stay,
      Where first Thyestes dwelt, but then his son                   700
      Ægisthus Thyestiades lived. This done,
      When his return untouch'd appear'd again,
      Back turn'd the Gods the wind, and set him then
      Hard by his house. Then, full of joy, he left
      His ship, and close t' his country earth he cleft,             705
      Kiss'd it, and wept for joy, pour'd tear on tear,
      To set so wishedly his footing there.
      But see, a sentinel that all the year
      Crafty Ægisthus in a watchtower set
      To spy his landing, for reward as great                        710
      As two gold talents, all his powers did call
      To strict remembrance of his charge, and all
      Discharged at first sight, which at first he cast
      On Agamemnon, and with all his haste
      Inform'd Ægisthus. He an instant train                         715
      Laid for his slaughter: Twenty chosen men
      Of his plebeians he in ambush laid;
      His other men he charged to see purvey'd
      A feast; and forth, with horse and chariots graced,
      He rode t' invite him, but in heart embraced                   720
      Horrible welcomes, and to death did bring,
      With treacherous slaughter, the unwary king,
      Received him at a feast, and, like an ox
      Slain at his manger, gave him bits and knocks.
      No one left of Atrides' train, nor one                         725
      Saved to Ægisthus, but himself alone,
      All strew'd together there the bloody court.'
      This said, my soul he sunk with his report,
      Flat on the sands I fell, tears spent their store,
      I light abhorr'd, my heart would live no more.                 730
        When dry of tears, and tired of tumbling there,
      Th' old Tell-truth thus my daunted spirits did cheer:
        'No more spend tears nor time, O Atreus' son,
      With ceaseless weeping never wish was won.
      Use uttermost assay to reach thy home,                         735
      And all unwares upon the murderer come,
      For torture, taking him thyself alive;
      Or let Orestes, that should far out-strive
      Thee in fit vengeance, quickly quit the light
      Of such a dark soul, and do thou the rite                      740
      Of burial to him with a funeral feast.'
        With these last words I fortified my breast,
      In which again a generous spring began
      Of fitting comfort, as I was a man;
      But, as a brother, I must ever mourn.                          745
      Yet forth I went, and told him the return
      Of these I knew; but he had named a third,
      Held on the broad sea, still with life inspired,
      Whom I besought to know, though likewise dead,
      And I must mourn alike. He answered:                           750
        'He is Laertes' son; whom I beheld
      In nymph Calypso's palace, who compell'd
      His stay with her, and, since he could not see
      His country earth, he mourn'd incessantly.
      For he had neither ship instruct with oars,                    755
      Nor men to fetch him from those stranger shores.
      Where leave we him, and to thy self descend,
      Whom not in Argos Fate nor Death shall end,
      But the immortal ends of all the earth,
      So ruled by them that order death by birth,                    760
      The fields Elysian, Fate to thee will give;
      Where Rhadamanthus rules, and where men live
      A never-troubled life, where snow, nor showers,
      Nor irksome Winter spends his fruitless powers,
      But from the ocean Zephyr still resumes                        765
      A constant breath, that all the fields perfumes.
      Which, since thou marriedst Helen, are thy hire,
      And Jove himself is by her side thy sire.'
        This said; he dived the deepsome watery heaps;
      I and my tried men took us to our ships,                       770
      And worlds of thoughts I varied with my steps.
        Arrived and shipp'd, the silent solemn night
      And sleep bereft us of our visual light.
      At morn, masts, sails, rear'd, we sat, left the shores,
      And beat the foamy ocean with our oars.                        775
        Again then we the Jove-fall'n flood did fetch,
      As far as Ægypt; where we did beseech
      The Gods with hecatombs; whose angers ceast,
      I tomb'd my brother that I might be blest.
        All rites perform'd, all haste I made for home,              780
      And all the prosp'rous winds about were come,
      I had the passport now of every God,
      And here closed all these labours period.
        Here stay then till th' eleventh or twelfth day's light,
      And I'll dismiss thee well, gifts exquisite                    785
      Preparing for thee, chariot, horses three,
      A cup of curious frame to serve for thee
      To serve th' immortal Gods with sacrifice,
      Mindful of me while all suns light thy skies."
        He answer'd: "Stay me not too long time here,                790
      Though I could sit attending all the year.
      Nor should my house, nor parents, with desire,
      Take my affections from you, so on fire
      With love to hear you are my thoughts; but so
      My Pylian friends I shall afflict with woe,                    795
      Who mourn even this stay. Whatsoever be
      The gifts your grace is to bestow on me,
      Vouchsafe them such as I may bear and save
      For your sake ever. Horse, I list not have,
      To keep in Ithaca, but leave them here,                        800
      To your soil's dainties, where the broad fields bear
      Sweet cypers grass, where men-fed lote doth flow,
      Where wheat-like spelt, and wheat itself, doth grow,
      Where barley, white, and spreading like a tree;
      But Ithaca hath neither ground to be,                          805
      For any length it comprehends, a race
      To try a horse's speed, nor any place
      To make him fat in; fitter far to feed
      A cliff-bred goat, than raise or please a steed.
      Of all isles, Ithaca doth least provide                        810
      Or meads to feed a horse, or ways to ride."
        He, smiling, said: "Of good blood art thou, son.
      What speech, so young! What observation
      Hast thou made of the world! I well am pleased
      To change my gifts to thee, as being confess'd                 815
      Unfit indeed, my store is such I may.
      Of all my house-gifts then, that up I lay
      For treasure there, I will bestow on thee
      The fairest, and of greatest price to me.
      I will bestow on thee a rich carv'd cup,                       820
      Of silver all, but all the brims wrought up
      With finest gold; it was the only thing
      That the heroical Sidonian king
      Presented to me, when we were to part
      At his receipt of me, and 'twas the art                        825
      Of that great Artist that of heaven is free;
      And yet even this will I bestow on thee."
        This speech thus ended, guests came, and did bring
      Muttons, for presents, to the God-like king,
      And spirit-prompting wine, that strenuous makes.               830
      Their riband-wreathed wives brought fruit and cakes.
        Thus in this house did these their feast apply;
      And in Ulysses' house activity
      The Wooers practised; tossing of the spear,
      The stone, and hurling; thus delighted, where                  835
      They exercised such insolence before,
      Even in the court that wealthy pavements wore.
      Antinous did still their strifes decide,
      And he that was in person deified
      Eurymachus; both ring-leaders of all,                          840
      For in their virtues they were principal.
        These by Noemon, son to Phronius,
      Were sided now, who made the question thus:
        "Antinous! Does any friend here know,
      When this Telemachus returns, or no,                           845
      From sandy Pylos? He made bold to take
      My ship with him; of which, I now should make
      Fit use myself, and sail in her as far
      As spacious Elis, where of mine there are
      Twelve delicate mares, and under their sides go                850
      Laborious mules, that yet did never know
      The yoke, nor labour; some of which should bear
      The taming now, if I could fetch them there."
      This speech the rest admired, nor dream'd that he
      Neleian Pylos ever thought to see,                             855
      But was at field about his flocks' survey,
      Or thought his herdsmen held him so away.
      Eupitheus son, Antinous, then replied:
      "When went he, or with what train dignified?
      Of his selected Ithacensian youth?                             860
      Prest men, or bond men, were they? Tell the truth.
      Could he effect this? Let me truly know.
      To gain thy vessel did he violence show,
      And used her 'gainst thy will? or had her free,
      When fitting question he had made with thee?"                  865
        Noemon answer'd: "I did freely give
      My vessel to him. Who deserves to live
      That would do other, when such men as he
      Did in distress ask? He should churlish be
      That would deny him. Of our youth the best                     870
      Amongst the people, to the interest
      His charge did challenge in them, giving way,
      With all the tribute all their powers could pay.
      Their captain, as he took the ship, I knew,
      Who Mentor was, or God. A Deity's shew                         875
      Mask'd in his likeness. But, to think 'twas he,
      I much admire, for I did clearly see,
      But yester-morning, God-like Mentor here;
      Yet th' other evening he took shipping there,
      And went for Pylos." Thus went he for home,                    880
      And left the rest with envy overcome;
      Who sat, and pastime left. Eupitheus son,
      Sad, and with rage his entrails overrun,
      His eyes like flames, thus interposed his speech:
      "Strange thing! An action of how proud a reach                 885
      Is here committed by Telemachus!
      A boy, a child, and we, a sort of us,
      Vow'd 'gainst his voyage, yet admit it thus!
      With ship and choice youth of our people too!
      But let him on, and all his mischief do,                       890
      Jove shall convert upon himself his powers,
      Before their ill presum'd he brings on ours.
      Provide me then a ship, and twenty men
      To give her manage, that, against again
      He turns for home, on th' Ithacensian seas,                    895
      Or cliffy Samian, I may interprease,
      Way-lay, and take him, and make all his craft
      Sail with his ruin for his father saft."
        This all applauded, and gave charge to do,
      Rose, and to greet Ulysses' house did go.                      900
      But long time past not, ere Penelope
      Had notice of their far-fetch'd treachery.
      Medon the herald told her, who had heard
      Without the hall how they within conferr'd,
      And hasted straight to tell it to the queen,                   905
      Who, from the entry having Medon seen,
      Prevents him thus: "Now herald, what affair
      Intend the famous Wooers, in your repair?
      To tell Ulysses' maids that they must cease
      From doing our work, and their banquets dress?                 910
      I would to heaven, that, leaving wooing me,
      Nor ever troubling other company,
      Here might the last feast be, and most extreme,
      That ever any shall address for them.
      They never meet but to consent in spoil,                       915
      And reap the free fruits of another's toil.
      O did they never, when they children were,
      What to their fathers was Ulysses, hear?
      Who never did 'gainst any one proceed
      With unjust usage, or in word or deed?                         920
      'Tis yet with other kings another right,
      One to pursue with love, another spite;
      He still yet just, nor would, though might, devour,
      Nor to the worst did ever taste of power.
      But their unrul'd acts show their minds' estate.               925
      Good turns received once, thanks grow out of date."
        Medon, the learn'd in wisdom, answer'd her:
      "I wish, O queen, that their ingratitudes were
      Their worst ill towards you; but worse by far,
      And much more deadly, their endeavours are,                    930
      Which Jove will fail them in. Telemachus
      Their purpose is, as he returns to us,
      To give their sharp steels in a cruel death;
      Who now is gone to learn, if fame can breathe
      News of his sire, and will the Pylian shore,                   935
      And sacred Sparta, in his search explore."
        This news dissolv'd to her both knees and heart,
      Long silence held her ere one word would part,
      Her eyes stood full of tears, her small soft voice
      All late use lost; that yet at last had choice                 940
      Of wonted words, which briefly thus she used:
        "Why left my son his mother? Why refused
      His wit the solid shore, to try the seas,
      And put in ships the trust of his distress,
      That are at sea to men unbridled horse,                        945
      And run, past rule, their far-engaged course,
      Amidst a moisture past all mean unstaid?
      No need compell'd this. Did he it, afraid
      To live and leave posterity his name?"
        "I know not," he replied, "if th' humour came                950
      From current of his own instinct, or flow'd
      From others' instigations; but he vow'd
      Attempt to Pylos, or to see descried
      His sire's return, or know what death he died."
        This said, he took him to Ulysses' house                     955
      After the Wooers; the Ulyssean spouse,
      Run through with woes, let Torture seize her mind,
      Nor in her choice of state chairs stood inclined
      To take her seat, but th' abject threshold chose
      Of her fair chamber for her loath'd repose,                    960
      And mourn'd most wretch-like. Round about her fell
      Her handmaids, join'd in a continuate yell.
      From every corner of the palace, all
      Of all degrees tuned to her comfort's fall
      Their own dejections; to whom her complaint                    965
      She thus enforc'd: "The Gods, beyond constraint
      Of any measure, urge these tears on me;
      Nor was there ever dame of my degree
      So past degree grieved. First, a lord so good,
      That had such hardy spirits in his blood,                      970
      That all the virtues was adorn'd withal,
      That all the Greeks did their superior call,
      To part with thus, and lose! And now a son,
      So worthily belov'd, a course to run
      Beyond my knowledge; whom rude tempests have                   975
      Made far from home his most inglorious grave!
      Unhappy wenches, that no one of all
      (Though in the reach of every one must fall
      His taking ship) sustain'd the careful mind,
      To call me from my bed, who this design'd                      980
      And most vow'd course in him had either stay'd,
      How much soever hasted, or dead laid
      He should have left me. Many a man I have,
      That would have call'd old Dolius my slave,
      (That keeps my orchard, whom my father gave                    985
      At my departure) to have run, and told
      Laertes this; to try if he could hold
      From running through the people, and from tears,
      In telling them of these vow'd murderers;
      That both divine Ulysses' hope, and his,                       990
      Resolv'd to end in their conspiracies."
        His nurse then, Euryclea, made reply:
      "Dear sovereign, let me with your own hands die,
      Or cast me off here, I'll not keep from thee
      One word of what I know. He trusted me                         995
      With all his purpose, and I gave him all
      The bread and wine for which he pleased to call.
      But then a mighty oath he made me swear,
      Not to report it to your royal ear
      Before the twelfth day either should appear,                  1000
      Or you should ask me when you heard him gone.
      Impair not then your beauties with your moan,
      But wash, and put untear-stain'd garments on,
      Ascend your chamber with your ladies here,
      And pray the seed of goat-nurs'd Jupiter,                     1005
      Divine Athenia, to preserve your son,
      And she will save him from confusion.
      Th' old king, to whom your hopes stand so inclin'd
      For his grave counsels, you perhaps may find
      Unfit affected, for his age's sake.                           1010
      But heaven-kings wax not old, and therefore make
      Fit prayers to them; for my thoughts never will
      Believe the heavenly Powers conceit so ill
      The seed of righteous Arcesiades,
      To end it utterly, but still will please                      1015
      In some place evermore some one of them
      To save, and deck him with a diadem,
      Give him possession of erected tow'rs,
      And far-stretch'd fields, crown'd all of fruits and flow'rs."
      This eas'd her heart, and dried her humorous eyes,            1020
      When having wash'd, and weeds of sacrifice
      Pure, and unstain'd with her distrustful tears,
      Put on, with all her women-ministers
      Up to a chamber of most height she rose,
      And cakes of salt and barley did impose                       1025
      Within a wicker basket; all which broke
      In decent order, thus she did invoke:
        "Great Virgin of the goat-preserved God,
      If ever the inhabited abode
      Of wise Ulysses held the fatted thighs                        1030
      Of sheep and oxen, made thy sacrifice
      By his devotion, hear me, nor forget
      His pious services, but safe see set
      His dear son on these shores, and banish hence
      These Wooers past all mean in insolence."                     1035
        This said, she shriek'd, and Pallas heard her prayer.
      The Wooers broke with tumult all the air
      About the shady house; and one of them,
      Whose pride his youth had made the more extreme,
      Said: "Now the many-wooer-honour'd queen                      1040
      Will surely satiate her delayful spleen,
      And one of us in instant nuptials take.
      Poor dame, she dreams not, what design we make
      Upon the life and slaughter of her son."
        So said he; but so said was not so done;                    1045
      Whose arrogant spirit in a vaunt so vain
      Antinous chid, and said: "For shame, contain
      These braving speeches. Who can tell who hears?
      Are we not now in reach of others' ears?
      If our intentions please us, let us call                      1050
      Our spirits up to them, and let speeches fall.
      By watchful danger men must silent go.
      What we resolve on, let's not say, but do."
      This said, he choos'd out twenty men, that bore
      Best reckoning with him, and to ship and shore                1055
      All hasted, reach'd the ship, launch'd, rais'd the mast,
      Put sails in, and with leather loops made fast
      The oars; sails hoisted, arms their men did bring,
      All giving speed and form to everything.
      Then to the high deeps their rigg'd vessel driven,            1060
      They supp'd, expecting the approaching even.
        Mean space, Penelope her chamber kept
      And bed, and neither eat, nor drank, nor slept,
      Her strong thoughts wrought so on her blameless son,
      Still in contention, if he should be done                     1065
      To death, or 'scape the impious Wooers' design.
      Look how a lion, whom men-troops combine
      To hunt, and close him in a crafty ring,
      Much varied thought conceives, and fear doth sting
      For urgent danger; so fared she, till sleep,                  1070
      All juncture of her joints and nerves did steep
      In his dissolving humour. When, at rest,
      Pallas her favours varied, and addressed
      An idol, that Iphthima did present
      In structure of her every lineament,                          1075
      Great-soul'd Icarius' daughter, whom for spouse
      Eumelus took, that kept in Pheris' house.
      This to divine Ulysses' house she sent,
      To try her best mean how she might content
      Mournful Penelope, and make relent                            1080
      The strict addiction in her to deplore.
      This idol, like a worm, that less or more
      Contracts or strains her, did itself convey,
      Beyond the wards or windings of the key,
      Into the chamber, and, above her head                         1085
      Her seat assuming, thus she comforted
      Distress'd Penelope: "Doth sleep thus seize
      Thy powers, affected with so much dis-ease?
      The Gods, that nothing troubles, will not see
      Thy tears nor griefs, in any least degree,                    1090
      Sustain'd with cause, for they will guard thy son
      Safe to his wish'd and native mansion,
      Since he is no offender of their states,
      And they to such are firmer than their fates."
        The wise Penelope receiv'd her thus,                        1095
      Bound with a slumber most delicious,
      And in the port of dreams: "O sister, why
      Repair you hither, since so far off lie
      Your house and household? You were never here
      Before this hour, and would you now give cheer                1100
      To my so many woes and miseries,
      Affecting fitly all the faculties
      My soul and mind hold, having lost before
      A husband, that of all the virtues bore
      The palm amongst the Greeks, and whose renown                 1105
      So ample was that Fame the sound hath blown
      Through Greece and Argos to her very heart?
      And now again, a son, that did convert
      My whole powers to his love, by ship is gone;
      A tender plant, that yet was never grown                      1110
      To labour's taste, nor the commerce of men;
      For whom more than my husband I complain,
      And lest he should at any suff'rance touch
      (Or in the sea, or by the men so much
      Estrang'd to him that must his consorts be)                   1115
      Fear and chill tremblings shake each joint of me.
      Besides, his danger sets on foes profess'd
      To way-lay his return, that have address'd
      Plots for his death." The scarce-discerned Dream,
      Said: "Be of comfort, nor fears so extreme                    1120
      Let thus dismay thee; thou hast such a mate
      Attending thee, as some at any rate
      Would wish to purchase, for her power is great;
      Minerva pities thy delights' defeat,
      Whose grace hath sent me to foretell thee these."             1125
        "If thou," said she, "be of the Goddesses,
      And heardst her tell thee these, thou mayst as well
      From her tell all things else. Deign then to tell,
      If yet the man to all misfortunes born,
      My husband, lives, and sees the sun adorn                     1130
      The darksome earth, or hides his wretched head
      In Pluto's house, and lives amongst the dead?"
        "I will not," she replied, "my breath exhale
      In one continued and perpetual tale,
      Lives he or dies he. 'Tis a filthy use,                       1135
      To be in vain and idle speech profuse."
      This said, she, through the key-hole of the door,
      Vanish'd again into the open blore.
      Icarius' daughter started from her sleep,
      And Joy's fresh humour her lov'd breast did steep,            1140
      When now so clear, in that first watch of night,
      She saw the seen Dream vanish from her sight.
        The Wooers' ship the sea's moist waves did ply,
      And thought the prince a haughty death should die.
      There lies a certain island in the sea,                       1145
      Twist rocky Samos and rough Ithaca,
      That cliffy is itself, and nothing great,
      Yet holds convenient havens that two ways let
      Ships in and out, call'd Asteris; and there
      The Wooers hoped to make their massacre.                      1150




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