BOOK XX

BOOK XXARGUMENTUlysses, doubting whether he shall destroy or not the women servants who commit lewdness with the suitors, resolves at length to spare them for the present. He asks an omen from Jupiter, and that he would grant him also to hear some propitious words from the lips of one in the family. His petitions are both answered. Preparation is made for the feast. Whilst the suitors sit at table, Pallas smites them with a horrid frenzy. Theoclymenus, observing the strange effects of it, prophesies their destruction, and they deride his prophecy.But in the vestibule the Hero layOn a bull’s-hide undress’d, o’er which he spreadThe fleece of many a sheep slain by the Greeks,And, cover’d by the household’s governessWith a wide cloak, composed himself to rest.Yet slept he not, but meditating layWoe to his enemies. Meantime, the trainOf women, wonted to the suitors’ arms,Issuing all mirth and laughter, in his soulA tempest raised of doubts, whether at once10To slay, or to permit them yet to giveTheir lusty paramours one last embrace.As growls the mastiff standing on the startFor battle, if a stranger’s foot approachHer cubs new-whelp’d—so growl’d Ulysses’ heart,While wonder fill’d him at their impious deeds.But, smiting on his breast, thus he reprovedThe mutinous inhabitant within.Heart! bear it. Worse than this thou didst endureWhen, uncontroulable by force of man,20The Cyclops thy illustrious friends devour’d.Thy patience then fail’d not, till prudence foundDeliv’rance for thee on the brink of fate.So disciplined the Hero his own heart,Which, tractable, endured the rigorous curb,And patient; yet he turn’d from side to side.As when some hungry swain turns oft a mawUnctuous and sav’ry on the burning coals,Quick expediting his desired repast,So he from side to side roll’d, pond’ring deep30How likeliest with success he might assailThose shameless suitors; one to many opposed.Then, sudden from the skies descending, cameMinerva in a female form; her standAbove his head she took, and thus she spake.Why sleep’st thou not, unhappiest of mankind?Thou art at home; here dwells thy wife, and hereThy son; a son, whom all might wish their own.Then her Ulysses answer’d, ever-wise.O Goddess! true is all that thou hast said,40But, not without anxiety, I museHow, single as I am, I shall assailThose shameless suitors who frequent my courtsDaily; and always their whole multitude.This weightier theme I meditate beside;Should I, with Jove’s concurrence and with thinePrevail to slay them, how shall I escape,Myself, at last?88oh Goddess, weigh it well.Him answer’d then Pallas cærulean-eyed.Oh faithless man! a man will in his friend50Confide, though mortal, and in valour lessAnd wisdom than himself; but I who keepThee in all difficulties, am divine.I tell thee plainly. Were we hemm’d aroundBy fifty troops of shouting warriors bentTo slay thee, thou should’st yet securely driveThe flocks away and cattle of them all.But yield to sleep’s soft influence; for to lieAll night thus watchful, is, itself, distress.Fear not. Deliv’rance waits, not far remote.60So saying, she o’er Ulysses’ eyes diffusedSoft slumbers, and when sleep that sooths the mindAnd nerves the limbs afresh had seized him once,To the Olympian summit swift return’d.But his chaste spouse awoke; she weeping satOn her soft couch, and, noblest of her sex,Satiate at length with tears, her pray’r address’dFirst to Diana of the Pow’rs above.Diana, awful progeny of Jove!I would that with a shaft this moment sped70Into my bosom, thou would’st here concludeMy mournful life! or, oh that, as it flies,Snatching me through the pathless air, a stormWould whelm me deep in Ocean’s restless tide!So, when the Gods their parents had destroy’d,Storms suddenly the beauteous daughters snatch’d89Of Pandarus away; them left forlornVenus with curds, with honey and with wineFed duly; Juno gave them to surpassAll women in the charms of face and mind,80With graceful stature eminent the chasteDiana bless’d them, and in works of artIllustrious, Pallas taught them to excel.But when the foam-sprung Goddess to the skiesA suitress went on their behalf, to obtainBlest nuptials for them from the Thund’rer Jove,(For Jove the happiness, himself, appoints,And the unhappiness of all below)Meantime, the Harpies ravishing awayThose virgins, gave them to the Furies Three,90That they might serve them. O that me the GodsInhabiting Olympus so would hideFrom human eyes for ever, or bright-hair’dDiana pierce me with a shaft, that whileUlysses yet engages all my thoughts,My days concluded, I might ’scape the painOf gratifying some inferior Chief!This is supportable, when (all the dayTo sorrow giv’n) the mourner sleeps at night;For sleep, when it hath once the eyelids veil’d,100All reminiscence blots of all alike,Both good and ill; but me the Gods afflictNot seldom ev’n in dreams, and at my side,This night again, one lay resembling him;Such as my own Ulysses when he join’dAchaia’s warriors; my exulting heartNo airy dream believed it, but a truth.While thus she spake, in orient gold enthronedCame forth the morn; Ulysses, as she wept,Heard plain her lamentation; him that sound110Alarm’d; he thought her present, and himselfKnown to her. Gath’ring hastily the cloakHis cov’ring, and the fleeces, them he placedTogether on a throne within the hall,But bore the bull’s-hide forth into the air.Then, lifting high his hands to Jove, he pray’d.Eternal Sire! if over moist and dryYe have with good-will sped me to my homeAfter much suff’ring, grant me from the lipsOf some domestic now awake, to hear120Words of propitious omen, and thyselfVouchsafe me still some other sign abroad.Such pray’r he made, and Jove omniscient heard.Sudden he thunder’d from the radiant heightsOlympian; glad, Ulysses heard the sound.A woman, next, a labourer at the millHard by, where all the palace-mills were wrought,Gave him the omen of propitious sound.Twelve maidens, day by day, toil’d at the mills,Meal grinding, some, of barley, some, of wheat,130Marrow of man.90The rest (their portion ground)All slept; she only from her task as yetCeas’d not, for she was feeblest of them all;She rested on her mill, and thus pronouncedThe happy omen by her Lord desired.Jove, Father, Governor of heav’n and earth!Loud thou hast thunder’d from the starry skiesBy no cloud veil’d; a sign propitious, giv’nTo whom I know not; but oh grant the pray’rOf a poor bond-woman! appoint their feast140This day, the last that in Ulysses’ houseThe suitors shall enjoy, for whom I drudge,With aching heart and trembling knees their mealGrinding continual. Feast they here no more!She ended, and the list’ning Chief receivedWith equal joy both signs; for well he hopedThat he should punish soon those guilty men.And now the other maidens in the hallAssembling, kindled on the hearth againTh’ unwearied blaze; then, godlike from his couch150Arose Telemachus, and, fresh-attired,Athwart his shoulders his bright faulchion slung,Bound his fair sandals to his feet, and tookHis sturdy spear pointed with glitt’ring brass;Advancing to the portal, there he stood,And Euryclea thus, his nurse, bespake.Nurse! have ye with respectful notice serv’dOur guest? or hath he found a sordid couchE’en where he might? for, prudent though she be,My mother, inattentive oft, the worse160Treats kindly, and the better sends away.Whom Euryclea answer’d, thus, discrete.Blame not, my son! who merits not thy blame.The guest sat drinking till he would no more,And ate, till, question’d, he replied—Enough.But when the hour of sleep call’d him to rest,She gave commandment to her female trainTo spread his couch. Yet he, like one forlorn,And, through despair, indiff’rent to himself,Both bed and rugs refused, and in the porch170On skins of sheep and on an undress’d hideReposed, where we threw cov’ring over him.She ceas’d, and, grasping his bright-headed spear,Forth went the Prince attended, as he went,By his fleet hounds; to the assembled GreeksIn council with majestic gait he moved,And Euryclea, daughter wise of Ops,Pisenor’s son, call’d to the serving-maids.Haste ye! be diligent! sweep the palace-floorAnd sprinkle it; then give the sumptuous seats180Their purple coverings. Let others cleanseWith sponges all the tables, wash and rinceThe beakers well, and goblets rich-emboss’d;Run others to the fountain, and bring thenceWater with speed. The suitors will not longBe absent, but will early come to-day,For this day is a public festival.91So she; whom all, obedient, heard; forth wentTogether, twenty to the crystal fount,While in their sev’ral provinces the rest190Bestirr’d them brisk at home. Then enter’d allThe suitors, and began cleaving the wood.Meantime, the women from the fountain came,Whom soon the swine-herd follow’d, driving threeHis fattest brawns; them in the spacious courtHe feeding left, and to Ulysses’ sideApproaching, courteously bespake the Chief.Guest! look the Greecians on thee with respectAt length, or still disdainful as before?Then, answer thus Ulysses wise return’d.200Yes—and I would that vengeance from the GodsMight pay their insolence, who in a houseNot theirs, dominion exercise, and planUnseemly projects, shameless as they are!Thus they conferr’d; and now Melanthius cameThe goat-herd, driving, with the aid of twoHis fellow-swains, the fattest of his goatsTo feast the suitors. In the sounding porchThe goats he tied, then, drawing near, in termsReproachful thus assail’d Ulysses’ ear.210How, stranger? persever’st thou, begging, stillTo vex the suitors? wilt thou not depart?Scarce shall we settle this dispute, I judge,Till we have tasted each the other’s fist;Thou art unreasonable thus to begHere always—have the Greeks no feasts beside?He spake, to whom Ulysses answer noneReturn’d, but shook his brows, and, silent, framedTerrible purposes. Then, third, approach’dChief o’er the herds, Philœtius; fatted goats220He for the suitors brought, with which he droveAn heifer; (ferry-men had pass’d them o’er,Carriers of all who on their coast arrive)He tied them in the sounding porch, then stoodBeside the swine-herd, to whom thus he said.Who is this guest, Eumæus, here arrivedSo lately? from what nation hath he come?What parentage and country boasts the man?I pity him, whose figure seems to speakRoyalty in him. Heav’n will surely plunge230The race of common wand’rers deep in woe,If thus it destine even Kings to mourn.He ceas’d; and, with his right hand, drawing nigh,Welcom’d Ulysses, whom he thus bespake.Hail venerable guest! and be thy lotProsp’rous at least hereafter, who art heldAt present in the bonds of num’rous ills.Thou, Jupiter, of all the Gods, art mostSevere, and spar’st not to inflict distressEven on creatures from thyself derived.92240I had no sooner mark’d thee, than my eyesSwam, and the sweat gush’d from me at the thoughtOf dear Ulysses; for if yet he liveAnd see the sun, such tatters, I suppose,He wears, a wand’rer among human-kind.But if already with the dead he dwellIn Pluto’s drear abode, oh then, alasFor kind Ulysses! who consign’d to me,While yet a boy, his Cephalenian herds,And they have now encreas’d to such a store250Innumerable of broad-fronted beeves,As only care like mine could have produced.These, by command of others, I transportFor their regale, who neither heed his son,Nor tremble at the anger of the Gods,But long have wish’d ardently to divideAnd share the substance of our absent Lord.Me, therefore, this thought occupies, and hauntsMy mind not seldom; while the heir survivesIt were no small offence to drive his herds260Afar, and migrate to a foreign land;Yet here to dwell, suff’ring oppressive wrongsWhile I attend another’s beeves, appearsStill less supportable; and I had fled,And I had served some other mighty ChiefLong since, (for patience fails me to endureMy present lot) but that I cherish stillSome hope of my ill-fated Lord’s return,To rid his palace of those lawless guests.To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.270Herdsman! since neither void of sense thou seem’st,Nor yet dishonest, but myself am sureThat thou art owner of a mind discrete,Hear therefore, for I swear! bold I attestJove and this hospitable board, and theseThe Lares93of the noble Chief, whose hearthProtects me now, that, ere thy going hence,Ulysses surely shall have reach’d his home,And thou shalt see him, if thou wilt, thyself,Slaying the suitors who now lord it here.280Him answer’d then the keeper of his beeves.Oh stranger! would but the Saturnian KingPerform that word, thou should’st be taught (thyselfEye-witness of it) what an arm is mine.Eumæus also ev’ry power of heav’nEntreated, that Ulysses might possessHis home again. Thus mutual they conferr’d.Meantime, in conf’rence close the suitors plann’dDeath for Telemachus; but while they satConsulting, on their left the bird of Jove290An eagle soar’d, grasping a tim’rous dove.Then, thus, Amphinomus the rest bespake.Oh friends! our consultation how to slayTelemachus, will never smoothly runTo its effect; but let us to the feast.So spake Amphinomus, whose counsel pleased.Then, all into the royal house repaired,And on the thrones and couches throwing offTheir mantles, slew the fatted goats, the brawns,The sheep full-sized, and heifer of the herd.300The roasted entrails first they shared, then fill’dThe beakers, and the swine-herd placed the cups,Philœtius, chief intendant of the beeves,Served all with baskets elegant of bread,While all their cups Melanthius charged with wine,And they assail’d at once the ready feast.Meantime Telemachus, with forecast shrewd,Fast by the marble threshold, but withinThe spacious hall his father placed, to whomA sordid seat he gave and scanty board.310A portion of the entrails, next, he setBefore him, fill’d a golden goblet high,And thus, in presence of them all, began.There seated now, drink as the suitors drink.I will, myself, their biting taunts forbid,And violence. This edifice is mine,Not public property; my father firstPossess’d it, and my right from him descends.Suitors! controul your tongues, nor with your handsOffend, lest contest fierce and war ensue.320He ceas’d: they gnawing, sat, their lips, aghastWith wonder that Telemachus in his speechSuch boldness used. Then spake Eupithes’ son,Antinoüs, and the assembly thus address’d.Let pass, ye Greeks! the language of the Prince,Harsh as it is, and big with threats to us.Had Jove permitted, his orations here,Although thus eloquent, ere now had ceased.So spake Antinoüs, whom Ulysses’ sonHeard unconcern’d. And now the heralds came330In solemn pomp, conducting through the streetsA sacred hecatomb, when in the groveUmbrageous of Apollo, King shaft-arm’d,The assembled Greecians met. The sav’ry roastFinish’d, and from the spits withdrawn, each sharedHis portion of the noble feast, and suchAs they enjoy’d themselves the attendants placedBefore Ulysses, for the Hero’s sonHimself, Telemachus, had so enjoined.But Pallas (that they might exasp’rate more340Ulysses) suffer’d not the suitor ChiefsTo banquet, guiltless of heart-piercing scoffsMalign. There was a certain suitor namedCtesippus, born in Samos; base of mindWas he and profligate, but, in the wealthConfiding of his father, woo’d the wifeOf long-exiled Ulysses. From his seatThe haughty suitors thus that man address’d.Ye noble suitors, I would speak; attend!The guest is served; he hath already shared350Equal with us; nor less the laws demandOf hospitality; for neither justIt were nor decent, that a guest, receivedHere by Telemachus, should be deniedHis portion of the feast. Come then—myselfWill give to him, that he may also giveTo her who laved him in the bath, or elseTo whatsoever menial here he will.So saying, he from a basket near at handHeav’d an ox-foot, and with a vig’rous arm360Hurl’d it. Ulysses gently bow’d his head,Shunning the blow, but gratified his justResentment with a broad sardonic smile94Of dread significance. He smote the wall.Then thus Telemachus rebuked the deed.Ctesippus, thou art fortunate; the boneStruck not the stranger, for he shunn’d the blow;Else, I had surely thrust my glitt’ring lanceRight through thee; then, no hymenæal ritesOf thine should have employ’d thy father here,370But thy funereal. No man therefore treatMe with indignity within these walls,For though of late a child, I can discernNow, and distinguish between good and ill.Suffice it that we patiently endureTo be spectators daily of our sheepSlaughter’d, our bread consumed, our stores of wineWasted; for what can one to all opposed?Come then—persist no longer in offenceAnd hostile hate of me; or if ye wish380To slay me, pause not. It were better farTo die, and I had rather much be slain,Than thus to witness your atrocious deedsDay after day; to see our guests abused,With blows insulted, and the women dragg’dWith a licentious violence obsceneFrom side to side of all this fair abode.He said, and all sat silent, till at lengthThus Agelaüs spake, Diastor’s son.My friends! let none with contradiction thwart390And rude reply, words rational and just;Assault no more the stranger, nor of allThe servants of renown’d Ulysses hereHarm any. My advice, both to the QueenAnd to Telemachus, shall gentle be,May it but please them. While the hope survivedWithin your bosoms of the safe returnOf wise Ulysses to his native isle,So long good reason was that she should useDelay, and hold our wooing in suspence;400For had Ulysses come, that course had provedWisest and best; but that he comes no moreAppears, now, manifest. Thou, therefore, Prince!Seeking thy mother, counsel her to wedThe noblest, and who offers richest dow’r,That thou, for thy peculiar, may’st enjoyThy own inheritance in peace and ease,And she, departing, find another home.To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.I swear by Jove, and by my father’s woes,410Who either hath deceased far from his home,Or lives a wand’rer, that I interposeNo hindrance to her nuptials. Let her wedWho offers most, and even whom she will.But to dismiss her rudely were a deedUnfilial—That I dare not—God forbid!So spake Telemachus. Then Pallas struckThe suitors with delirium; wide they stretch’dTheir jaws with unspontaneous laughter loud;Their meat dripp’d blood; tears fill’d their eyes, and direPresages of approaching woe, their hearts.421Then thus the prophet Theoclymenus.95Ah miserable men! what curse is thisThat takes you now? night wraps itself aroundYour faces, bodies, limbs; the palace shakesWith peals of groans—and oh, what floods ye weep!I see the walls and arches dappled thickWith gore; the vestibule is throng’d, the courtOn all sides throng’d with apparitions grimOf slaughter’d men sinking into the gloom430Of Erebus; the sun is blotted outFrom heav’n, and midnight whelms you premature.He said, they, hearing, laugh’d; and thus the sonOf Polybus, Eurymachus replied.This wand’rer from a distant shore hath leftHis wits behind. Hoa there! conduct him henceInto the forum; since he dreams it nightAlready, teach him there that it is day.Then answer’d godlike Theoclymenus.I have no need, Eurymachus, of guides440To lead me hence, for I have eyes and ears,The use of both my feet, and of a mindIn no respect irrational or wild.These shall conduct me forth, for well I knowThat evil threatens you, such, too, as noneShall ’scape of all the suitors, whose delightIs to insult the unoffending guestReceived beneath this hospitable roof.He said, and, issuing from the palace, soughtPiræus’ house, who gladly welcom’d him.450Then all the suitors on each other castA look significant, and, to provokeTelemachus the more, fleer’d at his guests.Of whom a youth thus, insolent began.No living wight, Telemachus, had e’erGuests such as thine. Witness, we know not who,This hungry vagabond, whose means of lifeAre none, and who hath neither skill nor forceTo earn them, a mere burthen on the ground.Witness the other also, who upstarts460A prophet suddenly. Take my advice;I counsel wisely; send them both on boardSome gallant bark to Sicily for sale;Thus shall they somewhat profit thee at last.So spake the suitors, whom TelemachusHeard unconcern’d, and, silent, look’d and look’dToward his father, watching still the timeWhen he should punish that licentious throng.Meantime, Icarius’ daughter, who had placedHer splendid seat opposite, heard distinct470Their taunting speeches. They, with noisy mirth,Feasted deliciously, for they had slainMany a fat victim; but a sadder feastThan, soon, the Goddess and the warrior ChiefShould furnish for them, none shall ever share.Of which their crimes had furnish’d first the cause.88That is, how shall I escape the vengeance of their kindred?89Aĕdon, Cleothera, Merope.90μυελον ανδρων.91The new moon.92He is often called—πατηρ ανδρων τε θεων τε.93Household Gods who presided over the hearth.94A smile of displeasure.95Who had sought refuge in the ship of Telemachus when he left Sparta, and came with him to Ithaca.

Ulysses, doubting whether he shall destroy or not the women servants who commit lewdness with the suitors, resolves at length to spare them for the present. He asks an omen from Jupiter, and that he would grant him also to hear some propitious words from the lips of one in the family. His petitions are both answered. Preparation is made for the feast. Whilst the suitors sit at table, Pallas smites them with a horrid frenzy. Theoclymenus, observing the strange effects of it, prophesies their destruction, and they deride his prophecy.

But in the vestibule the Hero layOn a bull’s-hide undress’d, o’er which he spreadThe fleece of many a sheep slain by the Greeks,And, cover’d by the household’s governessWith a wide cloak, composed himself to rest.Yet slept he not, but meditating layWoe to his enemies. Meantime, the trainOf women, wonted to the suitors’ arms,Issuing all mirth and laughter, in his soulA tempest raised of doubts, whether at once10To slay, or to permit them yet to giveTheir lusty paramours one last embrace.As growls the mastiff standing on the startFor battle, if a stranger’s foot approachHer cubs new-whelp’d—so growl’d Ulysses’ heart,While wonder fill’d him at their impious deeds.But, smiting on his breast, thus he reprovedThe mutinous inhabitant within.Heart! bear it. Worse than this thou didst endureWhen, uncontroulable by force of man,20The Cyclops thy illustrious friends devour’d.Thy patience then fail’d not, till prudence foundDeliv’rance for thee on the brink of fate.So disciplined the Hero his own heart,Which, tractable, endured the rigorous curb,And patient; yet he turn’d from side to side.As when some hungry swain turns oft a mawUnctuous and sav’ry on the burning coals,Quick expediting his desired repast,So he from side to side roll’d, pond’ring deep30How likeliest with success he might assailThose shameless suitors; one to many opposed.Then, sudden from the skies descending, cameMinerva in a female form; her standAbove his head she took, and thus she spake.Why sleep’st thou not, unhappiest of mankind?Thou art at home; here dwells thy wife, and hereThy son; a son, whom all might wish their own.Then her Ulysses answer’d, ever-wise.O Goddess! true is all that thou hast said,40But, not without anxiety, I museHow, single as I am, I shall assailThose shameless suitors who frequent my courtsDaily; and always their whole multitude.This weightier theme I meditate beside;Should I, with Jove’s concurrence and with thinePrevail to slay them, how shall I escape,Myself, at last?88oh Goddess, weigh it well.Him answer’d then Pallas cærulean-eyed.Oh faithless man! a man will in his friend50Confide, though mortal, and in valour lessAnd wisdom than himself; but I who keepThee in all difficulties, am divine.I tell thee plainly. Were we hemm’d aroundBy fifty troops of shouting warriors bentTo slay thee, thou should’st yet securely driveThe flocks away and cattle of them all.But yield to sleep’s soft influence; for to lieAll night thus watchful, is, itself, distress.Fear not. Deliv’rance waits, not far remote.60So saying, she o’er Ulysses’ eyes diffusedSoft slumbers, and when sleep that sooths the mindAnd nerves the limbs afresh had seized him once,To the Olympian summit swift return’d.But his chaste spouse awoke; she weeping satOn her soft couch, and, noblest of her sex,Satiate at length with tears, her pray’r address’dFirst to Diana of the Pow’rs above.Diana, awful progeny of Jove!I would that with a shaft this moment sped70Into my bosom, thou would’st here concludeMy mournful life! or, oh that, as it flies,Snatching me through the pathless air, a stormWould whelm me deep in Ocean’s restless tide!So, when the Gods their parents had destroy’d,Storms suddenly the beauteous daughters snatch’d89Of Pandarus away; them left forlornVenus with curds, with honey and with wineFed duly; Juno gave them to surpassAll women in the charms of face and mind,80With graceful stature eminent the chasteDiana bless’d them, and in works of artIllustrious, Pallas taught them to excel.But when the foam-sprung Goddess to the skiesA suitress went on their behalf, to obtainBlest nuptials for them from the Thund’rer Jove,(For Jove the happiness, himself, appoints,And the unhappiness of all below)Meantime, the Harpies ravishing awayThose virgins, gave them to the Furies Three,90That they might serve them. O that me the GodsInhabiting Olympus so would hideFrom human eyes for ever, or bright-hair’dDiana pierce me with a shaft, that whileUlysses yet engages all my thoughts,My days concluded, I might ’scape the painOf gratifying some inferior Chief!This is supportable, when (all the dayTo sorrow giv’n) the mourner sleeps at night;For sleep, when it hath once the eyelids veil’d,100All reminiscence blots of all alike,Both good and ill; but me the Gods afflictNot seldom ev’n in dreams, and at my side,This night again, one lay resembling him;Such as my own Ulysses when he join’dAchaia’s warriors; my exulting heartNo airy dream believed it, but a truth.While thus she spake, in orient gold enthronedCame forth the morn; Ulysses, as she wept,Heard plain her lamentation; him that sound110Alarm’d; he thought her present, and himselfKnown to her. Gath’ring hastily the cloakHis cov’ring, and the fleeces, them he placedTogether on a throne within the hall,But bore the bull’s-hide forth into the air.Then, lifting high his hands to Jove, he pray’d.Eternal Sire! if over moist and dryYe have with good-will sped me to my homeAfter much suff’ring, grant me from the lipsOf some domestic now awake, to hear120Words of propitious omen, and thyselfVouchsafe me still some other sign abroad.Such pray’r he made, and Jove omniscient heard.Sudden he thunder’d from the radiant heightsOlympian; glad, Ulysses heard the sound.A woman, next, a labourer at the millHard by, where all the palace-mills were wrought,Gave him the omen of propitious sound.Twelve maidens, day by day, toil’d at the mills,Meal grinding, some, of barley, some, of wheat,130Marrow of man.90The rest (their portion ground)All slept; she only from her task as yetCeas’d not, for she was feeblest of them all;She rested on her mill, and thus pronouncedThe happy omen by her Lord desired.Jove, Father, Governor of heav’n and earth!Loud thou hast thunder’d from the starry skiesBy no cloud veil’d; a sign propitious, giv’nTo whom I know not; but oh grant the pray’rOf a poor bond-woman! appoint their feast140This day, the last that in Ulysses’ houseThe suitors shall enjoy, for whom I drudge,With aching heart and trembling knees their mealGrinding continual. Feast they here no more!She ended, and the list’ning Chief receivedWith equal joy both signs; for well he hopedThat he should punish soon those guilty men.And now the other maidens in the hallAssembling, kindled on the hearth againTh’ unwearied blaze; then, godlike from his couch150Arose Telemachus, and, fresh-attired,Athwart his shoulders his bright faulchion slung,Bound his fair sandals to his feet, and tookHis sturdy spear pointed with glitt’ring brass;Advancing to the portal, there he stood,And Euryclea thus, his nurse, bespake.Nurse! have ye with respectful notice serv’dOur guest? or hath he found a sordid couchE’en where he might? for, prudent though she be,My mother, inattentive oft, the worse160Treats kindly, and the better sends away.Whom Euryclea answer’d, thus, discrete.Blame not, my son! who merits not thy blame.The guest sat drinking till he would no more,And ate, till, question’d, he replied—Enough.But when the hour of sleep call’d him to rest,She gave commandment to her female trainTo spread his couch. Yet he, like one forlorn,And, through despair, indiff’rent to himself,Both bed and rugs refused, and in the porch170On skins of sheep and on an undress’d hideReposed, where we threw cov’ring over him.She ceas’d, and, grasping his bright-headed spear,Forth went the Prince attended, as he went,By his fleet hounds; to the assembled GreeksIn council with majestic gait he moved,And Euryclea, daughter wise of Ops,Pisenor’s son, call’d to the serving-maids.Haste ye! be diligent! sweep the palace-floorAnd sprinkle it; then give the sumptuous seats180Their purple coverings. Let others cleanseWith sponges all the tables, wash and rinceThe beakers well, and goblets rich-emboss’d;Run others to the fountain, and bring thenceWater with speed. The suitors will not longBe absent, but will early come to-day,For this day is a public festival.91So she; whom all, obedient, heard; forth wentTogether, twenty to the crystal fount,While in their sev’ral provinces the rest190Bestirr’d them brisk at home. Then enter’d allThe suitors, and began cleaving the wood.Meantime, the women from the fountain came,Whom soon the swine-herd follow’d, driving threeHis fattest brawns; them in the spacious courtHe feeding left, and to Ulysses’ sideApproaching, courteously bespake the Chief.Guest! look the Greecians on thee with respectAt length, or still disdainful as before?Then, answer thus Ulysses wise return’d.200Yes—and I would that vengeance from the GodsMight pay their insolence, who in a houseNot theirs, dominion exercise, and planUnseemly projects, shameless as they are!Thus they conferr’d; and now Melanthius cameThe goat-herd, driving, with the aid of twoHis fellow-swains, the fattest of his goatsTo feast the suitors. In the sounding porchThe goats he tied, then, drawing near, in termsReproachful thus assail’d Ulysses’ ear.210How, stranger? persever’st thou, begging, stillTo vex the suitors? wilt thou not depart?Scarce shall we settle this dispute, I judge,Till we have tasted each the other’s fist;Thou art unreasonable thus to begHere always—have the Greeks no feasts beside?He spake, to whom Ulysses answer noneReturn’d, but shook his brows, and, silent, framedTerrible purposes. Then, third, approach’dChief o’er the herds, Philœtius; fatted goats220He for the suitors brought, with which he droveAn heifer; (ferry-men had pass’d them o’er,Carriers of all who on their coast arrive)He tied them in the sounding porch, then stoodBeside the swine-herd, to whom thus he said.Who is this guest, Eumæus, here arrivedSo lately? from what nation hath he come?What parentage and country boasts the man?I pity him, whose figure seems to speakRoyalty in him. Heav’n will surely plunge230The race of common wand’rers deep in woe,If thus it destine even Kings to mourn.He ceas’d; and, with his right hand, drawing nigh,Welcom’d Ulysses, whom he thus bespake.Hail venerable guest! and be thy lotProsp’rous at least hereafter, who art heldAt present in the bonds of num’rous ills.Thou, Jupiter, of all the Gods, art mostSevere, and spar’st not to inflict distressEven on creatures from thyself derived.92240I had no sooner mark’d thee, than my eyesSwam, and the sweat gush’d from me at the thoughtOf dear Ulysses; for if yet he liveAnd see the sun, such tatters, I suppose,He wears, a wand’rer among human-kind.But if already with the dead he dwellIn Pluto’s drear abode, oh then, alasFor kind Ulysses! who consign’d to me,While yet a boy, his Cephalenian herds,And they have now encreas’d to such a store250Innumerable of broad-fronted beeves,As only care like mine could have produced.These, by command of others, I transportFor their regale, who neither heed his son,Nor tremble at the anger of the Gods,But long have wish’d ardently to divideAnd share the substance of our absent Lord.Me, therefore, this thought occupies, and hauntsMy mind not seldom; while the heir survivesIt were no small offence to drive his herds260Afar, and migrate to a foreign land;Yet here to dwell, suff’ring oppressive wrongsWhile I attend another’s beeves, appearsStill less supportable; and I had fled,And I had served some other mighty ChiefLong since, (for patience fails me to endureMy present lot) but that I cherish stillSome hope of my ill-fated Lord’s return,To rid his palace of those lawless guests.To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.270Herdsman! since neither void of sense thou seem’st,Nor yet dishonest, but myself am sureThat thou art owner of a mind discrete,Hear therefore, for I swear! bold I attestJove and this hospitable board, and theseThe Lares93of the noble Chief, whose hearthProtects me now, that, ere thy going hence,Ulysses surely shall have reach’d his home,And thou shalt see him, if thou wilt, thyself,Slaying the suitors who now lord it here.280Him answer’d then the keeper of his beeves.Oh stranger! would but the Saturnian KingPerform that word, thou should’st be taught (thyselfEye-witness of it) what an arm is mine.Eumæus also ev’ry power of heav’nEntreated, that Ulysses might possessHis home again. Thus mutual they conferr’d.Meantime, in conf’rence close the suitors plann’dDeath for Telemachus; but while they satConsulting, on their left the bird of Jove290An eagle soar’d, grasping a tim’rous dove.Then, thus, Amphinomus the rest bespake.Oh friends! our consultation how to slayTelemachus, will never smoothly runTo its effect; but let us to the feast.So spake Amphinomus, whose counsel pleased.Then, all into the royal house repaired,And on the thrones and couches throwing offTheir mantles, slew the fatted goats, the brawns,The sheep full-sized, and heifer of the herd.300The roasted entrails first they shared, then fill’dThe beakers, and the swine-herd placed the cups,Philœtius, chief intendant of the beeves,Served all with baskets elegant of bread,While all their cups Melanthius charged with wine,And they assail’d at once the ready feast.Meantime Telemachus, with forecast shrewd,Fast by the marble threshold, but withinThe spacious hall his father placed, to whomA sordid seat he gave and scanty board.310A portion of the entrails, next, he setBefore him, fill’d a golden goblet high,And thus, in presence of them all, began.There seated now, drink as the suitors drink.I will, myself, their biting taunts forbid,And violence. This edifice is mine,Not public property; my father firstPossess’d it, and my right from him descends.Suitors! controul your tongues, nor with your handsOffend, lest contest fierce and war ensue.320He ceas’d: they gnawing, sat, their lips, aghastWith wonder that Telemachus in his speechSuch boldness used. Then spake Eupithes’ son,Antinoüs, and the assembly thus address’d.Let pass, ye Greeks! the language of the Prince,Harsh as it is, and big with threats to us.Had Jove permitted, his orations here,Although thus eloquent, ere now had ceased.So spake Antinoüs, whom Ulysses’ sonHeard unconcern’d. And now the heralds came330In solemn pomp, conducting through the streetsA sacred hecatomb, when in the groveUmbrageous of Apollo, King shaft-arm’d,The assembled Greecians met. The sav’ry roastFinish’d, and from the spits withdrawn, each sharedHis portion of the noble feast, and suchAs they enjoy’d themselves the attendants placedBefore Ulysses, for the Hero’s sonHimself, Telemachus, had so enjoined.But Pallas (that they might exasp’rate more340Ulysses) suffer’d not the suitor ChiefsTo banquet, guiltless of heart-piercing scoffsMalign. There was a certain suitor namedCtesippus, born in Samos; base of mindWas he and profligate, but, in the wealthConfiding of his father, woo’d the wifeOf long-exiled Ulysses. From his seatThe haughty suitors thus that man address’d.Ye noble suitors, I would speak; attend!The guest is served; he hath already shared350Equal with us; nor less the laws demandOf hospitality; for neither justIt were nor decent, that a guest, receivedHere by Telemachus, should be deniedHis portion of the feast. Come then—myselfWill give to him, that he may also giveTo her who laved him in the bath, or elseTo whatsoever menial here he will.So saying, he from a basket near at handHeav’d an ox-foot, and with a vig’rous arm360Hurl’d it. Ulysses gently bow’d his head,Shunning the blow, but gratified his justResentment with a broad sardonic smile94Of dread significance. He smote the wall.Then thus Telemachus rebuked the deed.Ctesippus, thou art fortunate; the boneStruck not the stranger, for he shunn’d the blow;Else, I had surely thrust my glitt’ring lanceRight through thee; then, no hymenæal ritesOf thine should have employ’d thy father here,370But thy funereal. No man therefore treatMe with indignity within these walls,For though of late a child, I can discernNow, and distinguish between good and ill.Suffice it that we patiently endureTo be spectators daily of our sheepSlaughter’d, our bread consumed, our stores of wineWasted; for what can one to all opposed?Come then—persist no longer in offenceAnd hostile hate of me; or if ye wish380To slay me, pause not. It were better farTo die, and I had rather much be slain,Than thus to witness your atrocious deedsDay after day; to see our guests abused,With blows insulted, and the women dragg’dWith a licentious violence obsceneFrom side to side of all this fair abode.He said, and all sat silent, till at lengthThus Agelaüs spake, Diastor’s son.My friends! let none with contradiction thwart390And rude reply, words rational and just;Assault no more the stranger, nor of allThe servants of renown’d Ulysses hereHarm any. My advice, both to the QueenAnd to Telemachus, shall gentle be,May it but please them. While the hope survivedWithin your bosoms of the safe returnOf wise Ulysses to his native isle,So long good reason was that she should useDelay, and hold our wooing in suspence;400For had Ulysses come, that course had provedWisest and best; but that he comes no moreAppears, now, manifest. Thou, therefore, Prince!Seeking thy mother, counsel her to wedThe noblest, and who offers richest dow’r,That thou, for thy peculiar, may’st enjoyThy own inheritance in peace and ease,And she, departing, find another home.To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.I swear by Jove, and by my father’s woes,410Who either hath deceased far from his home,Or lives a wand’rer, that I interposeNo hindrance to her nuptials. Let her wedWho offers most, and even whom she will.But to dismiss her rudely were a deedUnfilial—That I dare not—God forbid!So spake Telemachus. Then Pallas struckThe suitors with delirium; wide they stretch’dTheir jaws with unspontaneous laughter loud;Their meat dripp’d blood; tears fill’d their eyes, and direPresages of approaching woe, their hearts.421Then thus the prophet Theoclymenus.95Ah miserable men! what curse is thisThat takes you now? night wraps itself aroundYour faces, bodies, limbs; the palace shakesWith peals of groans—and oh, what floods ye weep!I see the walls and arches dappled thickWith gore; the vestibule is throng’d, the courtOn all sides throng’d with apparitions grimOf slaughter’d men sinking into the gloom430Of Erebus; the sun is blotted outFrom heav’n, and midnight whelms you premature.He said, they, hearing, laugh’d; and thus the sonOf Polybus, Eurymachus replied.This wand’rer from a distant shore hath leftHis wits behind. Hoa there! conduct him henceInto the forum; since he dreams it nightAlready, teach him there that it is day.Then answer’d godlike Theoclymenus.I have no need, Eurymachus, of guides440To lead me hence, for I have eyes and ears,The use of both my feet, and of a mindIn no respect irrational or wild.These shall conduct me forth, for well I knowThat evil threatens you, such, too, as noneShall ’scape of all the suitors, whose delightIs to insult the unoffending guestReceived beneath this hospitable roof.He said, and, issuing from the palace, soughtPiræus’ house, who gladly welcom’d him.450Then all the suitors on each other castA look significant, and, to provokeTelemachus the more, fleer’d at his guests.Of whom a youth thus, insolent began.No living wight, Telemachus, had e’erGuests such as thine. Witness, we know not who,This hungry vagabond, whose means of lifeAre none, and who hath neither skill nor forceTo earn them, a mere burthen on the ground.Witness the other also, who upstarts460A prophet suddenly. Take my advice;I counsel wisely; send them both on boardSome gallant bark to Sicily for sale;Thus shall they somewhat profit thee at last.So spake the suitors, whom TelemachusHeard unconcern’d, and, silent, look’d and look’dToward his father, watching still the timeWhen he should punish that licentious throng.Meantime, Icarius’ daughter, who had placedHer splendid seat opposite, heard distinct470Their taunting speeches. They, with noisy mirth,Feasted deliciously, for they had slainMany a fat victim; but a sadder feastThan, soon, the Goddess and the warrior ChiefShould furnish for them, none shall ever share.Of which their crimes had furnish’d first the cause.

88That is, how shall I escape the vengeance of their kindred?89Aĕdon, Cleothera, Merope.90μυελον ανδρων.91The new moon.92He is often called—πατηρ ανδρων τε θεων τε.93Household Gods who presided over the hearth.94A smile of displeasure.95Who had sought refuge in the ship of Telemachus when he left Sparta, and came with him to Ithaca.

88That is, how shall I escape the vengeance of their kindred?

89Aĕdon, Cleothera, Merope.

90μυελον ανδρων.

91The new moon.

92He is often called—πατηρ ανδρων τε θεων τε.

93Household Gods who presided over the hearth.

94A smile of displeasure.

95Who had sought refuge in the ship of Telemachus when he left Sparta, and came with him to Ithaca.

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