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       ‭ Proclaim’d the voyage his repugnant mind,

       ‭ And pour’d the puffs out of a shrieking wind,

       ‭ That nourish’d billows heighten’d like to hills;

       ‭ And with the fleet’s division fulfills

       ‭ His hate proclaim’d; upon a part of Crete

       ‭ Casting the navy, where the sea-waves meet

       ‭ Rough Jardanus, and where the Cydons live.

       ‭ There is a rock, on which the sea doth drive,

       ‭ Bare, and all broken, on the confines set

       ‭ Of Gortys, that the dark seas likewise fret;

       ‭ And hither sent the South a horrid drift

       ‭ Of waves against the top, that was the left

       ‭ Of that torn cliff as far as Phæstus’ strand.

       ‭ A little stone the great sea’s rage did stand.

       ‭ The men here driv’n ‘scap’d hard the ship’s sore shocks,

       ‭ The ships themselves being wrack’d against the rocks,

       ‭ Save only five, that blue fore-castles bore,

       ‭ Which wind and water cast on Egypt’s shore.

       ‭ When he (there victling well, and store of gold

       ‭ Aboard his ships brought) his wild way did hold,

       ‭ And t’ other languag’d men was forc’d to roam.

       ‭ Mean space Ægisthus made sad work at home,

       ‭ And slew his brother, forcing to his sway

       ‭ Atrides’ subjects, and did sev’n years lay

       ‭ His yoke upon the rich Mycenian state.

       ‭ But in the eighth, to his affrighting fate,

       ‭ Divine Orestes home from Athens came,

       ‭ And what his royal father felt, the same

       ‭ He made the false Ægisthus groan beneath.

       ‭ Death evermore is the reward of death. ‭ Thus having slain him, a sepulchral feast ‭ He made the Argives for his lustful guest, ‭ And for his mother whom he did detest. ‭ The self-same day upon him stole the king ‭ Good-at-a-martial-shout, and goods did bring, ‭ As many as his freighted fleet could bear. ‭ But thou, my son, too long by no means err, ‭ Thy goods left free for many a spoilful guest, ‭ Lest they consume some, and divide the rest, ‭ And thou, perhaps, besides, thy voyage lose. ‭ To Menelaus yet thy course dispose ‭ I wish and charge thee; who but late arriv’d ‭ From such a shore and men, as to have liv’d ‭ In a return from them he never thought, ‭ And whom black whirlwinds violently brought ‭ Within a sea so vast, that in a year ‭ Not any fowl could pass it anywhere, ‭ So huge and horrid was it. But go thou ‭ With ship and men (or, if thou pleasest now ‭ To pass by land, there shall be brought for thee ‭ Both horse and chariot, and thy guides shall be ‭ My sons themselves) to Sparta the divine, ‭ And to the king whose locks like amber shine. ‭ Intreat the truth of him, nor loves he lies, ‭ Wisdom in truth is, and he’s passing wise.” ‭ This said, the Sun went down, and up rose Night, ‭ When Pallas spake: “O father, all good right ‭ Bear thy directions. But divide we now ‭ The sacrifices’ tongues, mix wines, and vow ‭ To Neptune, and the other Ever-Blest, ‭ That, having sacrific’d, we may to rest. ‭ The fit hour runs now, light dives out of date, ‭ At sacred feasts we must not sit too late.” ‭ She said; they heard; the heralds water gave; ‭ The youths crown’d cups with wine, and let all have ‭ Their equal shares, beginning from the cup ‭ Their parting banquet. All the tongues cut up, ‭ The fire they gave them, sacrific’d, and rose, ‭ Wine, and divine rites us’d, to each dispose; ‭ Minerva and Telemachus desir’d ‭ They might to ship be, with his leave, retir’d. ‭ He, mov’d with that, provok’d thus their abodes: ‭ “Now Jove forbid, and all the long-liv’d Gods, ‭ Your leaving me, to sleep aboard a ship; ‭ As I had drunk of poor Penia’s whip, ‭ Even to my nakedness, and had nor sheet ‭ Nor cov’ring in my house; that warm nor sweet ‭ A guest, nor I myself, had means to sleep; ‭ Where I, both weeds and wealthy cov’rings keep ‭ For all my guests. Nor shall Fame ever say, ‭ The dear son of the man Ulysses lay ‭ All night a-ship-board here while my days shine, ‭ Or in my court whiles any son of mine ‭ Enjoys survival, who shall guests receive, ‭ Whomever my house hath a nook to leave.” ‭ “My much-lov’d father,” said Minerva, “well ‭ All this becomes thee. But persuade to dwell ‭ This night with thee thy son Telemachus, ‭ For more convenient is the course for us, ‭ That he may follow to thy house and rest, ‭ And I may board our black-sail, that addrest ‭ At all parts I may make our men, and cheer ‭ All with my presence, since of all men there ‭ I boast myself the senior, th’ others are ‭ Youths, that attend in free and friendly care ‭ Great-soul’d Telemachus, and are his peers ‭ In fresh similitude of form and years. ‭ For their confirmance, I will therefore now ‭ Sleep in our black bark. But, when light shall show ‭ Her silver forehead, I intend my way ‭ Amongst the Caucons, men that are to pay ‭ A debt to me, nor small, nor new. For this, ‭ Take you him home; whom in the morn dismiss, ‭ With chariot and your sons, and give him horse ‭ Ablest in strength, and of the speediest course” ‭ This said, away she flew, form’d like the fowl ‭ Men call the ossifrage; when ev’ry soul ‭ Amaze invaded; even th’ old man admir’d, ‭ The youth’s hand took, and said: “O most desir’d, ‭ My hope says thy proof will no coward show, ‭ Nor one unskill’d in war, when Deities now ‭ So young attend thee, and become thy guides; ‭ Nor any of the heav’n-hous’d States besides, ‭ But Tritogenia’s self, the Seed of Jove, ‭ The great-in-prey, that did in honour move ‭ So much about thy father, amongst all ‭ The Grecian army. Fairest queen, let fall ‭ On me like favours! Give me good renown! ‭ Which, as on me, on my lov’d wife let down, ‭ And all my children. I will burn to thee ‭ An ox right bred, broad-headed, and yoke-free, ‭ To no man’s hand yet humbled. Him will I, ‭ His horns in gold hid, give thy Deity.” ‭ Thus pray’d he, and she heard; and home he led ‭ His sons, and all his heaps of kindered. ‭ Who ent’ring his court royal, ev’ry one ‭ He marshall’d in his sev’ral seat and throne; ‭ And ev’ry one, so kindly come, he gave ‭ His sweet-wine cup; which none was let to have ‭ Before his ‘leventh year landed him from Troy; ‭ Which now the butleress had leave t’ employ, ‭ Who therefore pierc’d it, and did give it vent. ‭ Of this the old duke did a cup present ‭ To ev’ry guest; made his Maid many a pray’r ‭ That wears the shield fring’d with his nurse’s hair, ‭ And gave her sacrifice. With this rich wine ‭ And food suffic’d, sleep all eyes did decline, ‭ And all for home went; but his court alone ‭ Telemachus, divine Ulysses’ son, ‭ Must make his lodging, or not please his heart. ‭ A bed, all chequer’d with elaborate art, ‭ Within a portico that rung like brass, ‭ He brought his guest to; and his bedfere was ‭ Pisistratus, the martial guide of men, ‭ That liv’d, of all his sons, unwed till then. ‭ Himself lay in a by-room, far above, ‭ His bed made by his barren wife, his love. ‭ The rosy-finger’d Morn no sooner shone, ‭ But up he rose, took air, and sat upon ‭ A seat of white and goodly polish’d stone, ‭ That such a gloss as richest ointments wore, ‭ Before his high gates; where the counsellor ‭ That match’d the Gods (his father) us’d to sit, ‭ Who now, by fate forc’d, stoop’d as low as it. ‭ And here sat Nestor, holding in his hand ‭ A sceptre; and about him round did stand, ‭ As early up, his sons’ troop; Perseus, ‭ The god-like Thrasymed, and Aretus, ‭ Echephron, Stratius, and sixth and last ‭ Pisistratus, and by him (half embrac’d ‭ Still as they came) divine Telemachus; ‭ To these spake Nestor, old Gerenius: ‭ “Haste, lovéd sons, and do me a desire, ‭ That, first of all the Gods, I may aspire ‭ To Pallas’ favour, who vouchsaf’d to me ‭

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