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The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman

Page 118

by George Chapman


  ‭ To labour’s taste, nor the commerce of men;

  ‭ For whom more than my husband I complain,

  ‭ And lest he should at any suff’rance touch

  ‭ (Or in the sea, or by the men so much

  ‭ Estrang’d to him that must his consorts be)

  ‭ Fear and chill tremblings shake each joint of me.

  ‭ Besides, his danger sets on foes profess’d

  ‭ To way-lay his return, that have address’d

  ‭ Plots for his death.” The scarce-discernéd Dream,

  ‭ Said: “Be of comfort, nor fears so extreme

  ‭ Let thus dismay thee; thou hast such a mate

  ‭ Attending thee, as some at any rate

  ‭ Would wish to purchase, for her pow’r is great;

  ‭ Minerva pities thy delights’ defeat,

  ‭ Whose grace hath sent me to foretell thee these.”

  ‭ “If thou,” said she, “be of the Goddesses,

  ‭ And heardst her tell thee these, thou mayst as well

  ‭ From her tell all things else. Deign then to tell,

  ‭ If yet the man to all misfortunes born,

  ‭ My husband, lives, and sees the sun adorn

  ‭ The darksome earth, or hides his wretched head

  ‭ In Pluto’s house, and lives amongst the dead?”

  ‭ “I will not,” she replied, “my breath exhale

  ‭ In one continued and perpetual tale,

  ‭ Lives he or dies he. ’Tis a filthy use,

  ‭ To be in vain and idle speech profuse.”

  ‭ This said, she, through the key-hole of the door,

  ‭ Vanish’d again into the open blore.

  ‭ Icarius’ daughter started from her sleep,

  ‭ And Joy’s fresh humour her lov’d breast did steep,

  ‭ When now so clear, in that first watch of night,

  ‭ She saw the seen Dream vanish from her sight.

  ‭ The Wooers’ ship the sea’s moist waves did ply,

  ‭ And thought the prince a haughty death should die.

  ‭ There lies a certain island in the sea,

  ‭ Twixt rocky Samos and rough Ithaca,

  ‭ That cliffy is itself, and nothing great,

  ‭ Yet holds convenient havens that two ways let

  ‭ Ships in and out, call’d Asteris; and there

  ‭ The Wooers hop’d to make their massacre.

  FINIS LIBRI QUARTI HOM. ODYSS.

  ENDNOTES.

  1 Αακεδαἰμονα κητὠσσαν which is expounded Spartam ‭amplam, or πεγἀλην magnam; where κητὠεσσαν signifies ‭properly plurima cete nutrientem.

  2 Μολπης ἐ ἄρχοντες Cantum auspicantes: of which place, the ‭critics affirm that saltatores motu suo indicant cantori quo genere ‭cantus saltaturi forent. The rapture of Eteoneus at sight of ‭Telemachus and Pisistratus.

  3 Telemachus to Pisistratus, in observation of the house, not so ‭much that he heartily admired it, as to please Menelaus, who he ‭knew heard, though he seemed desirous he should not hear.

  4 Helen counterfeited the wives’ voices of those kings of Greece ‭that were in the wooden horse, and calls their husbands.

  5 Δἐμας, membrorum structura.

  6 Παρἁ κληîδος ἱμἀντα. Ιμἀς, affectus curculionis significat ‭quod longior et gracilior evaserit.

  THE FIFTH BOOK OF HOMER’S ODYSSEYS

  THE ARGUMENT

  A second Court on Jove attends;

  ‭ Who Hermes to Calypso sends,

  ‭ Commanding her to clear the ways

  ‭ Ulysses sought; and she obeys.

  ‭ When Neptune saw Ulysses free,

  ‭ And so in safety plough the sea,

  ‭ Enrag’d, he ruffles up the waves,

  ‭ And splits his ship. Leucothea saves

  ‭ His person yet, as being a Dame

  ‭ Whose Godhead govern’d in the frame

  ‭ Of those seas’ tempers. But the mean,

  ‭ By which she curbs dread Neptune’s spleen,

  ‭ Is made a jewel, which she takes

  ‭ From off her head, and that she makes

  ‭ Ulysses on his bosom wear,

  ‭ About his neck, she ties it there,

  ‭ And, when he is with waves beset,

  ‭ Bids wear it as an amulet,

  ‭ Commanding him, that not before

  ‭ He touch’d upon Phæacia’s shore,

  ‭ He should not part with it, but then

  ‭ Return it to the sea again,

  ‭ And cast it from him. He performs;

  ‭ Yet, after this, bides bitter storms,

  ‭ And in the rocks sees death engrav’d,

  ‭ But on Phæacia’s shore is sav’d.

  ANOTHER ARGUMENT

  E.

  ‭ Ulysses builds

  ‭ A ship; and gains

  ‭ The glassy fields;

  ‭ Pays Neptune pains.

  Aurora rose from high-born Tithon’s bed,

  ‭ That men and Gods might be illustrated,

  ‭ And then the Deities sat. Imperial Jove,

  ‭ That makes the horrid murmur beat above,

  ‭ Took place past all, whose height for ever springs,

  ‭ And from whom flowers th’ eternal pow’r of things.

  ‭ Then Pallas, mindful of Ulysses, told

  ‭ The many cares that in Calypso’s hold

  ‭ He still sustain’d, when he had felt before

  ‭ So much affliction, and such dangers more.

  ‭ “O Father,” said she, “and ye Ever-blest,

  ‭ Give never king hereafter interest

  ‭ In any aid of yours, by serving you,

  ‭ By being gentle, human, just, but grow

  ‭ Rude, and for ever scornful of your rights,

  ‭ All justice ord’ring by their appetites,

  ‭ Since he, that rul’d as it in right behov’d,

  ‭ That all his subjects as his children lov’d,

  ‭ Finds you so thoughtless of him and his birth.

  ‭ Thus men begin to say, ye rule in earth,

  ‭ And grudge at what ye let him undergo,

  ‭ Who yet the least part of his suff’rance know:

  ‭ Thrall’d in an island, shipwrack’d in his tears,

  ‭ And, in the fancies that Calypso bears,

  ‭ Bound from his birthright, all his shipping gone,

  ‭ And of his soldiers not retaining one.

  ‭ And now his most-lov’d son’s life doth inflame

  ‭ Their slaught’rous envies; since his father’s fame

  ‭ He puts in pursuit, and is gone as far

  ‭ As sacred Pylos, and the singular

  ‭ Dame-breeding Sparta.” This, with this reply,

  ‭ The Cloud-assembler answer’d: “What words fly

  ‭ Thine own remembrance, daughter? Hast not thou

  ‭ The counsel giv’n thyself, that told thee how

  ‭ Ulysses shall with his return address

  ‭ His Wooers wrong? And, for the safe access

  ‭ His son shall make to his innative port,

  ‭ Do thou direct it, in as curious sort

  ‭ As thy wit serves thee; it obeys thy pow’rs;

  ‭ And in their ship return the speedless Wooers.”

  ‭ Then turn’d he to his issue Mercury,

  ‭ And said: “Thou hast made good our ambassy

  ‭ To th’ other Statists, to the Nymph then now,

  ‭ On whose fair head a tuft of gold doth grow,

  ‭ Bear our true-spoken counsel, for retreat

  ‭ Of patient Ulysses; who shall get

  ‭ No aid from us, nor any mortal man,

  ‭ But in a patch’d-up skiff (built as he can, 1

  ‭ And suff’ring woes enough) the twentieth day

  ‭ At fruitful Scheria let him breathe his way,

 
‭ With the Phæacians, that half Deities live,

  ‭ Who like a God will honour him, and give

  ‭ His wisdom clothes, and ship, and brass, and gold,

  ‭ More than for gain of Troy he ever told;

  ‭ Where, at the whole division of the prey,

  ‭ If he a saver were, or got away

  ‭ Without a wound, if he should grudge, ’twas well.

  ‭ But th’ end shall crown all; therefore Fate will deal

  ‭ So well with him, to let him land, and see

  ‭ His native earth, friends, house, and family.”

  ‭ Thus charg’d he; nor Argicides denied,

  ‭ But to his feet his fair wing’d shoes he tied,

  ‭ Ambrosian, golden, that in his command

  ‭ Put either sea, or the unmeasur’d land,

  ‭ With pace as speedy as a puft of wind.

  ‭ Then up his rod went, with which he declin’d

  ‭ The eyes of any waker, when he pleas’d,

  ‭ And any sleeper, when he wish’d, diseas’d.

  ‭ This took; he stoop’d Pieria, and thence

  ‭ Glid through the air, and Neptune’s confluence

  ‭ Kiss’d as he flew, and check’d the waves as light

  ‭ As any sea-mew in her fishing flight,

  ‭ Her thick wings sousing in the savory seas.

  ‭ Like her, he pass’d a world of wilderness;

  ‭ But when the far-off isle he touch’d, he went

  ‭ Up from the blue sea to the continent,

  ‭ And reach’d the ample cavern of the Queen,

  ‭ Whom he within found, without seldom seen.

  ‭ A sun-like fire upon the hearth did flame,

  ‭ The matter precious, and divine the frame,

  ‭ Of cedar cleft and incense was the pile,

  ‭ That breath’d an odour round about the isle.

  ‭ Herself was seated in an inner room,

  ‭ Whom sweetly sing he heard, and at her loom,

  ‭ About a curious web, whose yarn she threw

  ‭ In with a golden shittle. A grove grew

  ‭ In endless spring about her cavern round,

  ‭ With odorous cypress, pines, and poplars, crown’d,

  ‭ Where hawks, sea-owls, and long-tongued bittours bred,

  ‭ And other birds their shady pinions spread;

  ‭ All fowls maritimal; none roosted there,

  ‭ But those whose labours in the waters were.

  ‭ A vine did all the hollow cave embrace,

  ‭ Still green, yet still ripe bunches gave it grace.

  ‭ Four fountains, one against another, pour’d

  ‭ Their silver streams; and meadows all enflower’d

  ‭ With sweet balm-gentle, and blue-violets hid,

  ‭ That deck’d the soft breasts of each fragrant mead.

  ‭ Should anyone, though he immortal were,

  ‭ Arrive and see the sacred objects there,

  ‭ He would admire them, and be over-joy’d;

  ‭ And so stood Hermes’ ravish’d pow’rs employ’d,

  ‭ But having all admir’d, he enter’d on

  ‭ The ample cave, nor could be seen unknown

  ‭ Of great Calypso (for all Deities are

  ‭ Prompt in each other’s knowledge, though so far

  ‭ Sever’d in dwellings) but he could not see

  ‭ Ulysses there within; without was he,

  ‭ Set sad ashore, where ’twas his use to view

  ‭ Th’ unquiet sea, sigh’d, wept, and empty drew

  ‭ His heart of comfort. Plac’d here in her throne,

  ‭ That beams cast up to admiratión,

  ‭ Divine Calypso question’d Hermes thus:

  ‭ “For what cause, dear, and much-esteem’d by us,

  ‭ Thou golden-rod-adorned Mercury,

  ‭ Arriv’st thou here? Thou hast not us’d t’ apply

  ‭ Thy passage this way. Say, whatever be

  ‭ Thy heart’s desire, my mind commands it thee,

  ‭ If in my means it lie, or pow’r of fact.

  ‭ But first, what hospitable rites exact,

  ‭ Come yet more near, and take.” This said, she set

  ‭ A table forth, and furnish’d it with meat,

  ‭ Such as the Gods taste; and serv’d in with it

  ‭ Vermilion nectar. When with banquet fit

  ‭ He had confirm’d his spirits, he thus exprest

  ‭ His cause of coming: “Thou hast made request,

  ‭ Goddess of Goddesses, to understand

  ‭ My cause of touch here; which thou shalt command,

  ‭ And know with truth: Jove caus’d my course to thee

  ‭ Against my will, for who would willingly

  ‭ Lackey along so vast a lake of brine,

  ‭ Near to no city that the Pow’rs divine

  ‭ Receives with solemn rites and hecatombs?

  ‭ But Jove’s will ever all law overcomes,

  ‭ No other God can cross or make it void;

  ‭ And he affirms, that one the most annoy’d

  ‭ With woes and toils of all those men that fought

  ‭ For Priam’s city, and to end hath brought

  ‭ Nine years in the contention, is with thee.

  ‭ For in the tenth year, when roy victory

  ‭ Was won to give the Greeks the spoil of Troy,

  ‭ Return they did profess, but not enjoy,

  ‭ Since Pallas they incens’d, and she the waves

  ‭ By all the winds’ pow’r, that blew ope their graves.

  ‭ And there they rested. Only this poor one

  ‭ This coast both winds and waves have cast upon;

  ‭ Whom now forthwith he wills thee to dismiss,

  ‭ Affirming that th’ unalter’d Destinies

  ‭ Not only have decreed he shall not die

  ‭ Apart his friends, but of necessity

  ‭ Enjoy their sights before those fatal hours,

  ‭ His country earth reach, and erected tow’rs.”

  ‭ This struck a love-check’d horror through her pow’rs,

  ‭ When, naming him, she this reply did give:

  ‭ “Insatiate are ye Gods, past all that live,

  ‭ In all things you affect; which still converts

  ‭ Your pow’rs to envies. It afflicts your hearts,

  ‭ That any Goddess should, as you obtain

  ‭ The use of earthly dames, enjoy the men,

  ‭ And most in open marriage. So ye far’d,

  ‭ When the delicious-finger’d Morning shar’d

  ‭ Orion’s bed; you easy-living States

  ‭ Could never satisfy your emulous hates,

  ‭ Till in Ortygia the precise-liv’d Dame,

  ‭ Gold-thron’d Diana, on him rudely came,

  ‭ And with her swift shafts slew him. And such pains,

  ‭ When rich-hair’d Ceres pleas’d to give the reins

  ‭ To her affections, and the grace did yield

  ‭ Of love and bed, amidst a three-cropp’d field,

  ‭ To her Iasion, he paid angry Jove,

  ‭ Who lost no long time notice of their love,

  ‭ But with a glowing lightning was his death.

  ‭ And now your envies labour underneath

  ‭ A mortal’s choice of mine; whose life I took

  ‭ To lib’ral safety, when his ship Jove strook,

  ‭ With red-hot flashes, piece-meal in the seas,

  ‭ And all his friends and soldiers succourless

  ‭ Perish’d but he. Him, cast upon this coast

  ‭ With blasts and billows, I, in life giv’n lost,

  ‭ Preserv’d alone, lov’d, nourish’d, and did vow

  ‭ To make him deathless, and yet never grow

  ‭ Crooked, or worn with age, his whole life long.

  ‭ But since no reason may be made so strong

  �
�� To strive with Jove’s will, or to make it vain,

  ‭ No not if all the other Gods should strain

  ‭ Their pow’rs against it, let his will be law,

  ‭ So he afford him fit means to withdraw,

  ‭ As he commands him, to the raging main.

  ‭ But means from me he never shall obtain,

  ‭ For my means yield nor men, nor ship, nor oars,

  ‭ To set him off from my so envied shores.

  ‭ But if my counsel and good will can aid

  ‭ His safe pass home, my best shall be assay’d.”

  ‭ “Vouchsafe it so,” said heav’n’s ambassador,

  ‭ “And deign it quickly. By all means abhor

  ‭ T’ incense Jove’s wrath against thee, that with grace

  ‭ He may hereafter all thy wish embrace.”

  ‭ Thus took the Argus-killing God his wings.

  ‭ And since the rev’rend Nymph these awful things

  ‭ Receiv’d from Jove, she to Ulysses went;

  ‭ Whom she ashore found, drown’d in discontent,

  ‭ His eyes kept never dry he did so mourn,

  ‭ And waste his dear age for his wish’d return;

  ‭ Which still without the cave he us’d to do,

  ‭ Because he could not please the Goddess so,

  ‭ At night yet, forc’d, together took their rest,

  ‭ The willing Goddess and th’ unwilling Guest;

  ‭ But he all day in rocks, and on the shore,

  ‭ The vex’d sea view’d, and did his fate deplore.

  ‭ Him, now, the Goddess coming near bespake:

  ‭ “Unhappy man, no more discomfort take

  ‭ For my constraint of thee, nor waste thine age,

  ‭ I now will passing freely disengage

  ‭ Thy irksome stay here. Come then, fell thee wood,

  ‭ And build a ship, to save thee from the flood.

  ‭ I’ll furnish thee with fresh wave, bread, and wine

  ‭ Ruddy and sweet, that will the piner pine, 2

  ‭ Put garments on thee, give the winds foreright,

  ‭ That ev’ry way thy home-bent appetite

  ‭ May safe attain to it; if so it please

  ‭ At all parts all the heav’n-hous’d Deities,

  ‭ That more in pow’r are, more in skill, than I,

  ‭ And more can judge what fits humanity.”

  ‭ He stood amaz’d at this strange change in her,

  ‭ And said: “O Goddess! Thy intents prefer

  ‭ Some other project than my parting hence,

  ‭ Commanding things of too high consequence

  ‭ For my performance, that myself should build

  ‭ A ship of pow’r, my home-assays to shield

  ‭ Against the great sea of such dread to pass;

 

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