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Gave to him, for he loved him past belief) Could now, Ulysses, clad in arms as then, Mix with these suitors, short his date of life To each, and bitter should his nuptials prove. But these events, whether he shall return To take just vengeance under his own roof, Or whether not, lie all in the Gods lap. Meantime I counsel thee, thyself to think By what means likeliest thou shalt expel These from thy doors. Now mark me: close attend. 340 To-morrow, summoning the Grecian Chiefs To council, speak to them, and call the Gods To witness that solemnity. Bid go The suitors hence, each to his own abode. Thy mother—if her purpose be resolved On marriage, let her to the house return Of her own potent father, who, himself, Shall furnish forth her matrimonial rites, And ample dow’r, such as it well becomes A darling daughter to receive, bestow. 350 But hear me now; thyself I thus advise. The prime of all thy ships preparing, mann’d With twenty rowers, voyage hence to seek Intelligence of thy long-absent Sire. Some mortal may inform thee, or a word,
4 Perchance, by Jove directed (safest source Of notice to mankind) may reach thine ear. First voyaging to Pylus, there enquire Of noble Nestor; thence to Sparta tend, To question Menelaus amber-hair’d, 360 Latest arrived of all the host of Greece. There should’st thou learn that still thy father lives, And hope of his return, although Distress’d, thou wilt be patient yet a year. But should’st thou there hear tidings that he breathes No longer, to thy native isle return’d, First heap his tomb; then with such pomp perform His funeral rites as his great name demands, And make thy mother’s spousals, next, thy care. These duties satisfied, delib’rate last 370 Whether thou shalt these troublers of thy house By stratagem, or by assault, destroy. For thou art now no child, nor longer may’st Sport like one. Hast thou not the proud report Heard, how Orestes hath renown acquired With all mankind, his father’s murtherer Ægisthus slaying, the deceiver base Who slaughter’d Agamemnon? Oh my friend! (For with delight thy vig’rous growth I view, And just proportion) be thou also bold, 380 And merit praise from ages yet to come. But I will to my vessel now repair, And to my mariners, whom, absent long, I may perchance have troubled. Weigh thou well My counsel; let not my advice be lost. To whom Telemachus discrete replied. Stranger! thy words bespeak thee much my friend, Who, as a father teaches his own son, Hast taught me, and I never will forget. But, though in haste thy voyage to pursue, 390 Yet stay, that in the bath refreshing first Thy limbs now weary, thou may’st sprightlier seek Thy gallant bark, charged with some noble gift Of finish’d workmanship, which thou shalt keep As my memorial ever; such a boon As men confer on guests whom much they love. Then Pallas thus, Goddess cærulean-eyed. Retard me not, for go I must; the gift Which liberal thou desirest to bestow, Give me at my return, that I may bear 400 The treasure home; and, in exchange, thyself Expect some gift equivalent from me. She spake, and as with eagle-wings upborne, Vanish’d incontinent, but him inspired With daring fortitude, and on his heart Dearer remembrance of his Sire impress’d Than ever. Conscious of the wond’rous change, Amazed he stood, and, in his secret thought Revolving all, believed his guest a God. The youthful Hero to the suitors then 410 Repair’d; they silent, listen’d to the song Of the illustrious Bard: he the return Deplorable of the Achaian host From Ilium by command of Pallas, sang. Penelope, Icarius’ daughter, mark’d Meantime the song celestial, where she sat In the superior palace; down she came, By all the num’rous steps of her abode; Not sole, for two fair handmaids follow’d her. She then, divinest of her sex, arrived 420 In presence of that lawless throng, beneath The portal of her stately mansion stood, Between her maidens, with her lucid veil Her lovely features mantling. There, profuse She wept, and thus the sacred bard bespake. Phemius! for many a sorrow-soothing strain Thou know’st beside, such as exploits record Of Gods and men, the poet’s frequent theme; Give them of those a song, and let themselves Their wine drink noiseless; but this mournful strain 430 Break off, unfriendly to my bosom’s peace, And which of all hearts nearest touches mine, With such regret my dearest Lord I mourn, Rememb’ring still an husband praised from side To side, and in the very heart of Greece. Then answer thus Telemachus return’d. My mother! wherefore should it give thee pain If the delightful bard that theme pursue To which he feels his mind impell’d? the bard Blame not, but rather Jove, who, as he wills, 440 Materials for poetic art supplies. No fault is his, if the disastrous fate He sing of the Achaians, for the song Wins ever from the hearers most applause That has been least in use. Of all who fought At Troy, Ulysses hath not lost, alone, His day of glad return; but many a Chief Hath perish’d also. Seek thou then again Thy own apartment, spindle ply and loom, And task thy maidens; management belongs 450 To men of joys convivial, and of men Especially to me, chief ruler here. She heard astonish’d; and the prudent speech Reposing of her son deep in her heart, Again with her attendant maidens sought Her upper chamber. There arrived, she wept Her lost Ulysses, till Minerva bathed Her weary lids in dewy sleep profound. Then echoed through the palace dark-bedimm’d With evening shades the suitors boist’rous roar, 460 For each the royal bed burn’d to partake, Whom thus Telemachus discrete address’d. All ye my mother’s suitors, though addict To contumacious wrangling fierce, suspend Your clamour, for a course to me it seems More decent far, when such a bard as this, Godlike, for sweetness, sings, to hear his song. To-morrow meet we in full council all, That I may plainly warn you to depart From this our mansion. Seek ye where ye may 470 Your feasts; consume your own; alternate feed Each at the other’s cost; but if it seem Wisest in your account and best, to eat Voracious thus the patrimonial goods Of one man, rend’ring no account of all,
5 Bite to the roots; but know that I will cry Ceaseless to the eternal Gods, in hope That Jove, for retribution of the wrong, Shall doom you, where ye have intruded, there To bleed, and of your blood ask no account.
5 480 He ended, and each gnaw’d his lip, aghast At his undaunted hardiness of speech. Then thus Antinoüs spake, Eupithes’ son. Telemachus! the Gods, methinks, themselves Teach thee sublimity, and to pronounce Thy matter fearless. Ah forbid it, Jove! That one so eloquent should with the weight Of kingly cares in Ithaca be charged, A realm, by claim hereditary, thine. Then prudent thus Telemachus replied. 490 Although my speech Antinoüs may, perchance, Provoke thee, know that I am not averse From kingly cares, if Jove appoint me such. Seems it to thee a burthen to be fear’d By men above all others? trust me, no, There is no ill in royalty; the man So station’d, waits not long ere he obtain Riches and honour. But I grant that Kings Of the Achaians may no few be found In sea-girt Ithaca both young and old, 500 Of whom since great Ulysses is no more, Reign whoso may; but King, myself, I am In my own house, and over all my own Domestics, by Ulysses gained for me. To whom Eurymachus replied, the son Of Polybus. What Grecian Chief shall reign In sea-girt Ithaca, must be referr’d To the Gods’ will, Telemachus! meantime Thou hast unquestionable right to keep Thy own, and to command in thy own house. 510 May never that man on her shores arrive, While an inhabitant shall yet be left In Ithaca, who shall by violence wrest Thine from thee. But permit me, noble Sir! To ask thee of thy guest. Whence came the man? What country claims him? Where are to be found His kindred and his patrimonial fields? Brings he glad tidings of thy Sire’s approach Homeward? or came he to receive a debt Due to himself? How swift he disappear’d! 520 Nor opportunity to know him gave To those who wish’d it; for his face and air Him speak not of Plebeian birth obscure. Whom answered thus Telemachus discrete. Eurymachus! my father comes no more. I can no longer now tidings believe, If such arrive; nor he’d I more the song Of sooth-sayers whom my mother may consult. But this my guest hath known in other days My father, and he came from Taphos, son 530 Of brave Anchialus, Mentes by name, And Chief of the sea-practis’d Taphian race. So spake Telemachus, but in his heart Knew well his guest a Goddess from the skies. Then they to dance and heart-enlivening song Turn’d joyous, waiting the approach of eve, And dusky evening found them joyous still. Then each, to his own house retiring, sought Needful repose. Meantime Telemachus To his own lofty chamber, built in view 540 Of the wide hall, retired; but with a heart In various musings occupied intense. Sage Euryclea, bearing in each hand A torch, preceded him; her sire was Ops, Pisenor’s son, and, in her early prime, At his own cost Laertes made her his, Paying with twenty beeves her purchase-price, Nor in less honour than his spotless wife He held her ever, but his consort’s wrath Fearing, at no time call’d her to his bed. 550 She bore the torches, and with truer
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