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and now the busy train Of menials culinary,
18 at the gate 750 Enter’d of Menelaus, Chief renown’d; They brought him sheep, with heart-ennobling wine, While all their wives, their brows with frontlets bound, Came charg’d with bread. Thus busy they prepared A banquet in the mansion of the King. Meantime, before Ulysses’ palace gate The suitors sported with the quoit and spear On the smooth area, customary scene Of all their strife and angry clamour loud. There sat Antinoüs, and the godlike youth 760 Eurymachus, superior to the rest And Chiefs among them, to whom Phronius’ son Noëmon drawing nigh, with anxious mien Question’d Antinoüs, and thus began. Know we, Antinoüs! or know we not, When to expect Telemachus at home Again from Pylus? in my ship he went, Which now I need, that I may cross the sea To Elis, on whose spacious plain I feed Twelve mares, each suckling a mule-colt as yet 770 Unbroken, but of which I purpose one To ferry thence, and break him into use. He spake, whom they astonish’d heard; for him They deem’d not to Nelëian Pylus gone, But haply into his own fields, his flocks To visit, or the steward of his swine. Then thus, Eupithes’ son, Antinoüs, spake. Say true. When sail’d he forth? of all our youth, Whom chose he for his followers? his own train Of slaves and hirelings? hath he pow’r to effect 780 This also? Tell me too, for I would learn— Took he perforce thy sable bark away, Or gav’st it to him at his first demand? To whom Noëmon, Phronius’ son, replied. I gave it voluntary; what could’st thou, Should such a prince petition for thy bark In such distress? Hard were it to refuse. Brave youths (our bravest youths except yourselves) Attend him forth; and with them I observed Mentor embarking, ruler o’er them all, 790 Or, if not him, a God; for such he seem’d. But this much moves my wonder. Yester-morn I saw, at day-break, noble Mentor here, Whom shipp’d for Pylus I had seen before. He ceas’d; and to his father’s house return’d; They, hearing, sat aghast. Their games meantime Finish’d, the suitors on their seats reposed, To whom Eupithes’ son, Antinoüs, next, Much troubled spake; a black storm overcharged His bosom, and his vivid eyes flash’d fire. 800 Ye Gods, a proud exploit is here atchieved, This voyage of Telemachus, by us Pronounced impracticable; yet the boy In downright opposition to us all, Hath headlong launched a ship, and, with a band Selected from our bravest youth, is gone. He soon will prove more mischievous, whose pow’r Jove wither, ere we suffer its effects! But give me a swift bark with twenty rowers, That, watching his return within the streights 810 Of rocky Samos and of Ithaca, I may surprise him; so shall he have sail’d To seek his Sire, fatally for himself. He ceased and loud applause heard in reply, With warm encouragement. Then, rising all, Into Ulysses’ house at once they throng’d. Nor was Penelope left uninformed Long time of their clandestine plottings deep, For herald Medon told her all, whose ear Their councils caught while in the outer-court 820 He stood, and they that project framed within. Swift to Penelope the tale he bore, Who as he pass’d the gate, him thus address’d. For what cause, herald! have the suitors sent Thee foremost? Wou’d they that my maidens lay Their tasks aside, and dress the board for them? Here end their wooing! may they hence depart Never, and may the banquet now prepared, This banquet prove your last!
19 who in such throngs Here meeting, waste the patrimony fair 830 Of brave Telemachus; ye never, sure, When children, heard how gracious and how good Ulysses dwelt among your parents, none Of all his people, or in word or deed Injuring, as great princes oft are wont, By favour influenc’d now, now by disgust. He no man wrong’d at any time; but plain Your wicked purpose in your deeds appears, Who sense have none of benefits conferr’d. Then Medon answer’d thus, prudent, return’d. 840 Oh Queen! may the Gods grant this prove the worst. But greater far and heavier ills than this The suitors plan, whose counsels Jove confound! Their base desire and purpose are to slay Telemachus on his return; for he, To gather tidings of his Sire is gone To Pylus, or to Sparta’s land divine. He said; and where she stood, her trembling knees Fail’d under her, and all her spirits went. Speechless she long remain’d, tears filled her eyes, 850 And inarticulate in its passage died Her utt’rance, till at last with pain she spake. Herald! why went my son? he hath no need On board swift ships to ride, which are to man His steeds that bear him over seas remote. Went he, that, with himself, his very name Might perish from among mankind for ever? Then answer, thus, Medon the wise return’d. I know not whether him some God impell’d Or his own heart to Pylus, there to hear 860 News of his Sire’s return, or by what fate At least he died, if he return no more. He said, and traversing Ulysses’ courts, Departed; she with heart consuming woe O’erwhelm’d, no longer could endure to take Repose on any of her num’rous seats, But on the threshold of her chamber-door Lamenting sat, while all her female train Around her moan’d, the antient and the young, Whom, sobbing, thus Penelope bespake. 870 Hear me, ye maidens! for of women born Coeval with me, none hath e’er received Such plenteous sorrow from the Gods as I, Who first my noble husband lost, endued With courage lion-like, of all the Greeks The Chief with ev’ry virtue most adorn’d, A prince all-excellent, whose glorious praise Through Hellas and all Argos flew diffused. And now, my darling son—him storms have snatch’d Far hence inglorious, and I knew it not. 880 Ah treach’rous servants! conscious as ye were Of his design, not one of you the thought Conceived to wake me when he went on board. For had but the report once reach’d my ear, He either had not gone (how much soe’er He wish’d to leave me) or had left me dead. But haste ye—bid my antient servant come, Dolion, whom (when I left my father’s house He gave me, and whose office is to attend My num’rous garden-plants) that he may seek 890 At once Laertes, and may tell him all, Who may contrive some remedy, perchance, Or fit expedient, and shall come abroad To weep before the men who wish to slay Even the prince, godlike Ulysses’ son. Then thus the gentle Euryclea spake, Nurse of Telemachus. Alas! my Queen! Slay me, or spare, deal with me as thou wilt, I will confess the truth. I knew it all. I gave him all that he required from me. 900 Both wine and bread, and, at his bidding, swore To tell thee nought in twelve whole days to come, Or till, enquiry made, thou should’st thyself Learn his departure, lest thou should’st impair Thy lovely features with excess of grief. But lave thyself, and, fresh attired, ascend To thy own chamber, there, with all thy train, To worship Pallas, who shall save, thenceforth, Thy son from death, what ills soe’er he meet. Add not fresh sorrows to the present woes 910 Of the old King, for I believe not yet Arcesias’ race entirely by the Gods Renounced, but trust that there shall still be found Among them, who shall dwell in royal state, And reap the fruits of fertile fields remote. So saying, she hush’d her sorrow, and her eyes No longer stream’d. Then, bathed and fresh attired, Penelope ascended with her train The upper palace, and a basket stored With hallow’d cakes off’ring, to Pallas pray’d. 920 Hear matchless daughter of Jove Ægis-arm’d! If ever wise Ulysses offer’d here The thighs of fatted kine or sheep to thee, Now mindful of his piety, preserve His darling son, and frustrate with a frown The cruelty of these imperious guests! She said, and wept aloud, whose earnest suit Pallas received. And now the spacious hall And gloomy passages with tumult rang And clamour of that throng, when thus, a youth, 930 Insolent as his fellows, dared to speak. Much woo’d and long, the Queen at length prepares To chuse another mate,
20 and nought suspects The bloody death to which her son is doom’d. So he; but they, meantime, themselves remain’d Untaught, what course the dread concern elsewhere Had taken, whom Antinoüs thus address’d. Sirs! one and all, I counsel you, beware Of such bold boasting unadvised; lest one O’erhearing you, report your words within. 940 No—rather thus, in silence, let us move To an exploit so pleasant to us all. He said, and twenty chose, the bravest there, With whom he sought the galley on the shore, Which drawing down into the deep, they placed The mast and sails on board, and, sitting, next, Each oar in order to its proper groove, Unfurl’d and spread their canvas to the gale. Their bold attendants, then, brought them their arms, And soon as in deep water they had moor’d 950 The ship, themselves embarking, supp’d on board, And watch’d impatient for the dusk of eve. But when Penelope, the palace stairs Remounting, had her upper chamber reach’d, There, unrefresh’d with either food or wine, She lay’d her down, her noble son the theme Of all her thoughts, whether he should escape His haughty foes, or perish by their hands. Num’rous as are the lion’s thoughts, who sees, Not without fear, a multitude with
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