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At home his tomb, will with such pomp perform His fun’ral rites, as his great name demands, And give my mother’s hand to whom I may. This said, he sat, and after him arose Mentor, illustrious Ulysses’ friend, To whom, embarking thence, he had consign’d 300 All his concerns, that the old Chief might rule His family, and keep the whole secure. Arising, thus the senior, sage, began. Hear me, ye Ithacans! be never King Henceforth, benevolent, gracious, humane Or righteous, but let every sceptred hand Rule merciless, and deal in wrong alone, Since none of all his people, whom he sway’d With such paternal gentleness and love, Remembers the divine Ulysses more! 310 That the imperious suitors thus should weave The web of mischief and atrocious wrong, I grudge not; since at hazard of their heads They make Ulysses’ property a prey, Persuaded that the Hero comes no more. But much the people move me; how ye sit All mute, and though a multitude, yourselves, Opposed to few, risque not a single word To check the license of these bold intruders! Then thus Liocritus, Evenor’s son. 320 Injurious Mentor! headlong orator! How dar’st thou move the populace against The suitors? Trust me they should find it hard, Numerous as they are, to cope with us, A feast the prize. Or should the King himself Of Ithaca, returning, undertake T’ expell the jovial suitors from his house, Much as Penelope his absence mourns, His presence should afford her little joy; For fighting sole with many, he should meet 330 A dreadful death. Thou, therefore, speak’st amiss. As for Telemachus, let Mentor him And Halytherses furnish forth, the friends Long valued of his Sire, with all dispatch; Though him I judge far likelier to remain Long-time contented an enquirer here, Than to perform the voyage now proposed. Thus saying, Liocritus dissolved in haste The council, and the scattered concourse sought Their sev’ral homes, while all the suitors flock’d 340 Thence to the palace of their absent King. Meantime, Telemachus from all resort Retiring, in the surf of the gray Deep First laved his hands, then, thus to Pallas pray’d. O Goddess! who wast yesterday a guest Beneath my roof, and didst enjoin me then A voyage o’er the sable Deep in quest Of tidings of my long regretted Sire! Which voyage, all in Ithaca, but most The haughty suitors, obstinate impede, 350 Now hear my suit and gracious interpose! Such pray’r he made; then Pallas, in the form, And with the voice of Mentor, drawing nigh, In accents wing’d, him kindly thus bespake. Telemachus! thou shalt hereafter prove Nor base, nor poor in talents. If, in truth, Thou have received from heav’n thy father’s force Instill’d into thee, and resemblest him In promptness both of action and of speech, Thy voyage shall not useless be, or vain. 360 But if Penelope produced thee not His son, I, then, hope not for good effect Of this design which, ardent, thou pursuest. Few sons their fathers equal; most appear Degenerate; but we find, though rare, sometimes A son superior even to his Sire. And since thyself shalt neither base be found Nor spiritless, nor altogether void Of talents, such as grace thy royal Sire, I therefore hope success of thy attempt. 370 Heed not the suitors’ projects; neither wise Are they, nor just, nor aught suspect the doom Which now approaches them, and in one day Shall overwhelm them all. No long suspense Shall hold thy purposed enterprise in doubt, Such help from me, of old thy father’s friend, Thou shalt receive, who with a bark well-oar’d Will serve thee, and myself attend thee forth. But haste, join thou the suitors, and provide, In sep’rate vessels stow’d, all needful stores, 380 Wine in thy jars, and flour, the strength of man, In skins close-seam’d. I will, meantime, select Such as shall voluntary share thy toils. In sea-girt Ithaca new ships and old Abound, and I will chuse, myself, for thee The prime of all, which without more delay We will launch out into the spacious Deep. Thus Pallas spake, daughter of Jove; nor long, So greeted by the voice divine, remain’d Telemachus, but to his palace went 390 Distress’d in heart. He found the suitors there Goats slaying in the hall, and fatted swine Roasting; when with a laugh Antinoüs flew To meet him, fasten’d on his hand, and said, Telemachus, in eloquence sublime, And of a spirit not to be controul’d! Give harbour in thy breast on no account To after-grudge or enmity, but eat, Far rather, cheerfully as heretofore, And freely drink, committing all thy cares 400 To the Achaians, who shall furnish forth A gallant ship and chosen crew for thee, That thou may’st hence to Pylus with all speed, Tidings to learn of thy illustrious Sire. To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied. Antinoüs! I have no heart to feast With guests so insolent, nor can indulge The pleasures of a mind at ease, with you. Is’t not enough, suitors, that ye have used My noble patrimony as your own 410 While I was yet a child? now, grown mature, And competent to understand the speech Of my instructors, feeling, too, a mind Within me conscious of augmented pow’rs, I will attempt your ruin, be assured, Whether at Pylus, or continuing here. I go, indeed, (nor shall my voyage prove Of which I speak, bootless or vain) I go An humble passenger, who neither bark Nor rowers have to boast my own, denied 420 That honour (so ye judg’d it best) by you. He said, and from Antinoüs’ hand his own Drew sudden. Then their delicate repast The busy suitors on all sides prepar’d, Still taunting as they toil’d, and with sharp speech Sarcastic wantoning, of whom a youth, Arrogant as his fellows, thus began. I see it plain, Telemachus intends Our slaughter; either he will aids procure From sandy Pylus, or will bring them arm’d 430 From Sparta; such is his tremendous drift. Even to fruitful Ephyre, perchance, He will proceed, seeking some baneful herb Which cast into our cup, shall drug us all. To whom some haughty suitor thus replied. Who knows but that himself, wand’ring the sea From all his friends and kindred far remote, May perish like Ulysses? Whence to us Should double toil ensue, on whom the charge To parcel out his wealth would then devolve, 440 And to endow his mother with the house For his abode whom she should chance to wed. So sported they; but he, ascending sought His father’s lofty chamber, where his heaps He kept of brass and gold, garments in chests, And oils of fragrant scent, a copious store. There many a cask with season’d nectar fill’d The grape’s pure juice divine, beside the wall Stood orderly arranged, waiting the hour (Should e’er such hour arrive) when, after woes 450 Num’rous, Ulysses should regain his home. Secure that chamber was with folding doors Of massy planks compact, and night and day, Within it antient Euryclea dwelt, Guardian discrete of all the treasures there, Whom, thither call’d, Telemachus address’d. Nurse! draw me forth sweet wine into my jars, Delicious next to that which thou reserv’st For our poor wand’rer; if escaping death At last, divine Ulysses e’er return. 460 Fill twelve, and stop them close; pour also meal Well mill’d (full twenty measures) into skins Close-seam’d, and mention what thou dost to none. Place them together; for at even-tide I will convey them hence, soon as the Queen, Retiring to her couch, shall seek repose. For hence to Sparta will I take my course, And sandy Pylus, tidings there to hear (If hear I may) of my lov’d Sire’s return. He ceas’d, then wept his gentle nurse that sound 470 Hearing, and in wing’d accents thus replied. My child! ah, wherefore hath a thought so rash Possess’d thee? whither, only and belov’d, Seek’st thou to ramble, travelling, alas! To distant climes? Ulysses is no more; Dead lies the Hero in some land unknown, And thou no sooner shalt depart, than these Will plot to slay thee, and divide thy wealth. No, stay with us who love thee. Need is none That thou should’st on the barren Deep distress 480 Encounter, roaming without hope or end. Whom, prudent, thus answer’d Telemachus. Take courage, nurse! for not without consent Of the Immortals I have thus resolv’d. But swear, that till eleven days be past, Or twelve, or, till enquiry made, she learn Herself my going, thou wilt not impart Of this my purpose to my mother’s ear, Lest all her beauties fade by grief impair’d. He ended, and the antient matron swore 490 Solemnly by the Gods; which done, she fill’d With wine the vessels and the skins with meal, And he, returning, join’d the throng below. Then Pallas, Goddess azure-eyed, her thoughts Elsewhere directing, all the city ranged In semblance of Telemachus, each man Exhorting, at the dusk of eve, to seek The gallant ship, and from Noëmon, son Renown’d of Phronius, ask’d, herself, a bark, Which soon as ask’d, he promis’d to supply. 500 Now set the sun, and twilight dimm’d the ways, When, drawing down his bark into the Deep, He gave her all her furniture, oars, arms And tackle, such as well-built galleys bear, Then moor’d her in the bottom of the bay. Meantime, his mariners in haste repair’d Down to the shore, for Pallas urged them on. And now on other purposes intent, The Goddess sought the palace, where with dews Of slumber drenching ev’ry suitor’s eye, 510 She fool’d the drunkard multitude, and dash’d The goblets from their idle hands away. They through the city reeled, happy to leave The dull carousal, when the slumb’rous weight Oppressive on their eye-lids once had fall’n. Next,
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