Assays for hurling of the stone
The youths make with the stranger-king.
Demodocus, at feast, doth sing
Th’ adult’ry of the God of Arms
With Her that rules in amorous charms;
And after sings the entercourse
Of acts about th’ Epæan horse.
ANOTHER ARGUMENT
Θη̑τα.
The council’s frame
At fleet applied.
In strifes of game
Ulysses tried.
Now when the rosy-finger’d Morn arose,
The sacred pow’r Alcinous did dispose
Did likewise rise; and, like him, left his ease
The city-razer Laertiades.
The Council at the navy was design’d;
To which Alcinous, with the sacred mind,
Came first of all. On polish’d stones they sate,
Near to the navy. To increase the state,
Minerva took the herald’s form on her,
That serv’d Alcinous, studious to prefer
Ulysses’ suit for home. About the town
She made quick way, and fill’d with the renown
Of that design the ears of ev’ry man,
Proclaiming thus: “Peers Phæacensian!
And Men of Council, all haste to the court,
To hear the stranger that made late resort
To King Alcinous, long time lost at sea,
And is in person like a Deity.”
This all their pow’rs set up, and spirit instill’d,
And straight the court and seats with men were fill’d.
The whole state wonder’d at Laertes’ son,
When they beheld him. Pallas put him on
A supernatural and heav’nly dress,
Enlarg’d him with a height, and goodliness
In breast and shoulders, that he might appear
Gracious, and grave, and reverend, and bear
A perfect hand on his performance there
In all the trials they resolv’d t’ impose.
All met, and gather’d in attention close,
Alcinous thus bespake them: “Dukes, and lords,
Hear me digest my hearty thoughts in words.
This stranger here, whose travels found my court,
I know not, nor can tell if his resort
From East or West comes; but his suit is this:
That to his country-earth we would dismiss
His hither-forcéd person, and doth bear
The mind to pass it under ev’ry peer;
Whom I prepare, and stir up, making known
My free desire of his deductión.
Nor shall there ever any other man
That tries the goodness Phæacensian
In me, and my court’s entertainment, stay,
Mourning for passage, under least delay.
Come then, a ship into the sacred seas,
New-built, now launch we; and from out our prease
Choose two-and-fifty youths, of all, the best
To use an oar. All which see straight imprest,
And in their oar-bound seats. Let others hie
Home to our court, commanding instantly
The solemn preparation of a feast,
In which provision may for any guest
Be made at my charge. Charge of these low things
I give our youth. You, sceptre-bearing kings,
Consort me home, and help with grace to use
This guest of ours; no one man shall refuse.
Some other of you haste, and call to us
The sacred singer, grave Demodocus,
To whom hath God giv’n song that can excite
The heart of whom he listeth with delight.”
This said, he led. The sceptre-bearers lent
Their free attendance; and with all speed went
The herald for the sacred man-in-song.
Youths two-and-fifty, chosen from the throng,
Went, as was will’d, to the untam’d sea’s shore;
Where come, they launch’d the ship, the mast it bore
Advanc’d, sails hoiséd, ev’ry seat his oar
Gave with a leather thong. The deep moist then
They further reach’d. The dry streets flow’d with men,
That troop’d up to the king’s capacious court,
Whose porticos were chok’d with the resort,
Whose walls were hung with men, young, old, thrust there
In mighty concourse; for whose promis’d cheer
Alcinous slew twelve sheep, eight white-tooth’d swine,
Two crook-haunch’d beeves; which flay’d and dress’d, divine
The show was of so many a jocund guest,
All set together at so set a feast.
To whose accomplish’d state the herald then
The lovely singer led; who past all mean
The Muse affected, gave him good, and ill,
His eyes put out, but put in soul at will.
His place was giv’n him in a chair all grac’d
With silver studs, and ‘gainst a pillar plac’d:
Where, as the centre to the state, he rests,
And round about the circle of the guests.
The herald on a pin above his head
His soundful harp hung, to whose height he led
His hand for taking of it down at will,
A board set by with food, and forth did fill
A bowl of wine, to drink at his desire.
The rest then fell to feast, and, when the fire
Of appetite was quench’d, the Muse inflam’d
The sacred singer. Of men highliest fam’d
He sung the glories, and a poem penn’d,
That in applause did ample heav’n ascend.
Whose subject was, the stern Contentión
Betwixt Ulysses and great Thetis’ son,
As, at a banquet sacred to the Gods,
In dreadful language they express’d their odds.
When Agamemnon sat rejoic’d in soul
To hear the Greek peers jar in terms so foul;
For augur Phœbus in presage had told
The King of men (desirous to unfold
The war’s perplex’d end, and being therefore gone
In heav’nly Pythia to the porch of stone,)
That then the end of all griefs should begin
‘Twixt Greece and Troy, when Greece (with strife to win
That wish’d conclusion) in her kings should jar,
And plead, if force or wit must end the war.
This brave Contention did the poet sing,
Expressing so the spleen of either king,
That his large purple weed Ulysses held
Before his face and eyes, since thence distill’d
Tears uncontain’d; which he obscur’d, in fear
To let th’ observing presence note a tear.
But, when his sacred song the mere divine
Had giv’n an end, a goblet crown’d with wine
Ulysses, drying his wet eyes, did seize, 1
And sacrific’d to those Gods that would please
T’ inspire the poet with a song so fit
To do him honour, and renown his wit.
His tears then stay’d. But when again began,
By all the kings’ desires, the moving man,
Again Ulysses could not choose but yield
To that soft passion, which again, withheld,
; He kept so cunningly from sight, that none,
Except Alcinous himself alone,
Discern’d him mov’d so much. But he sat next,
And heard him deeply sigh; which his pretext
Could not keep hid from him. Yet he conceal’d
His utt’rance of it, and would have it held
From all the rest, brake off the song, and this
Said to those oar-affecting peers of his:
“Princes, and peers! We now are satiate
With sacred song that fits a feast of state,
With wine and food. Now then to field, and try
In all kinds our approv’d activity,
That this our guest may give his friends to know,
In his return, that we as little owe
To fights and wrastlings, leaping, speed-of race,
As these our court-rites; and commend our grace
In all to all superior.” Forth he led,
The peers and people troop’d up to their head.
Nor must Demodocus be left within;
Whose harp the herald hung upon the pin,
His hand in his took, and abroad he brought
The heav’nly poet, out the same way wrought
That did the princes, and what they would see
With admiration, with his company
They wish’d to honour. To the place of game
These throng’d; and after routs of other came,
Of all sort, infinite. Of youths that strove,
Many and strong rose to their trial’s love.
Up rose Acroneus, and Ocyalus,
Elatreus, Prymneus, and Anchialus, 2
Nauteus, Eretmeus, Thoen, Proreüs,
Pontëus, and the strong Amphialus
Son to Tectonides Polyneüs.
Up rose to these the great Euryalus,
In action like the Homicide of War.
Naubolides, that was for person far
Past all the rest, but one he could not pass,
Nor any thought improve, Laodamas.
Up Anabesinëus then arose;
And three sons of the Sceptre-state, and those
Were Halius, the fore-prais’d Laodamas,
And Clytonëus like a God in grace.
These first the foot-game tried, and from the lists
Took start together. Up the dust in mists
They hurl’d about, as in their speed they flew;
But Clytonëus first of all the crew
A stitch’s length in any fallow field
Made good his pace; when, where the judges yield
The prize and praise, his glorious speed arriv’d.
Next, for the boist’rous wrastling game they striv’d;
At which Euryalus the rest outshone.
At leap Amphialus, At the hollow stone
Elatreüs excell’d. At buffets, last,
Laodamas, the king’s fair son, surpast.
When all had striv’d in these assays their fill,
Laodamas said: “Come friends, let’s prove what skill
This stranger hath attain’d to in our sport.
Methinks, he must be of the active sort,
His calves, thighs, hands, and well-knit shoulders show
That Nature disposition did bestow
To fit with fact their form. Nor wants he prime.
But sour affliction, made a mate with time,
Makes time the more seen. Nor imagine I,
A worse thing to enforce debility
Than is the sea, though nature ne’er so strong
Knits one together.” “Nor conceive you wrong,”
Replied Euryalus, “but prove his blood
With what you question.” In the midst then stood
Renown’d Laodamas, and prov’d him thus:
“Come, stranger-father, and assay with us
Your pow’rs in these contentions. If your show
Be answer’d with your worth, ’tis fit that you
Should know these conflicts. Nor doth glory stand
On any worth more, in a man’s command,
Than to be strenuous both of foot and hand.
Come then, make proof with us, discharge your mind
Of discontentments; for not far behind
Comes your deduction, ship is ready now, 3
And men, and all things.” “Why,” said he, “dost thou
Mock me, Laodamas, and these strifes bind
My pow’rs to answer? I am more inclin’d
To cares than conflict. Much sustain’d I have,
And still am suff’ring. I come here to crave,
In your assemblies, means to be dismist,
And pray both kings and subjects to assist.”
Euryalus an open brawl began,
And said: “I take you, sir, for no such man
As fits these honour’d strifes. A number more
Strange men there are that I would choose before.
To one that loves to lie aship-board much,
Or is the prince of sailors; or to such
As traffic far and near, and nothing mind
But freight, and passage, and a foreright wind;
Or to a victualler of a ship; or men
That set up all their pow’rs for rampant gain;
I can compare, or hold you like to be:
But, for a wrastler, or of quality
Fit for contentions noble, you abhor
From worth of any such competitor.”
Ulysses, frowning, answer’d: “Stranger, far
Thy words are from the fashions regular
Of kind, or honour. Thou art in thy guise
Like to a man that authors injuries. 4
I see, the Gods to all men give not all
Manly addiction, wisdom, words that fall,
Like dice, upon the square still. Some man takes
Ill form from parents, but God often makes
That fault of form up with observ’d repair
Of pleasing speech, that makes him held for fair,
That makes him speak securely, makes him shine
In an assembly with a grace divine.
Men take delight to see how ev’nly lie
His words asteep in honey modesty.
Another, then, hath fashion like a God,
But in his language he is foul and broad.
And such art thou. A person fair is giv’n,
But nothing else is in thee sent from heav’n;
For in thee lurks a base and earthy soul,
And t’ hast compell’d me, with a speech most foul,
To be thus bitter. I am not unseen
In these fair strifes, as thy words overween,
But in the first rank of the best I stand;
At least I did, when youth and strength of hand
Made me thus confident, but now am worn
With woes and labours, as a human born
To bear all anguish. Suffer’d much I have.
The war of men, and the inhuman wave,
Have I driv’n through at all parts. But with all
My waste in suff’rance, what yet may fall
In my performance, at these strifes I’ll try.
Thy speech hath mov’d, and made my wrath run high.”
This said, with robe and all, he grasp’d a stone,
A little graver than was ever thrown
By these Phæacians in their wrastling rout,
More firm, more massy; which, turn’d round about,
He hurried from him with a hand so strong
It sung, and flew, and over all the throng,
That at the others’ marks stood, quite it went;
Yet down fell all beneath it, fearing spent
The force that drave it flying from his hand,
As it a dart were, or a walking wand;
And far past all the marks of all the rest
His wing stole way; when Pallas straight imprest
A mark at fall of it, resembling then
One of the navy-giv’n Phæacian men,
And thus advanc’d Ulysses: “One, though blind,
O stranger, groping, may thy stone’s fall find,
For not amidst the rout of marks it fell,
But far before all. Of thy worth think well,
And stand in all strifes. No Phæacian here
This bound can either better or come near.”
Ulysses joy’d to hear that one man yet
Us’d him benignly, and would truth abet
In those contentions; and then thus smooth
He took his speech down: “Reach me that now, youth,
You shall, and straight I think, have one such more,
And one beyond it too. And now, whose core
Stands sound and great within him, since ye have
Thus put my spleen up, come again and brave
The guest ye tempted, with such gross disgrace,
At wrastling, buffets, whirlbat, speed o’ race;
At all, or either, I except at none,
But urge the whole state of you; only one,
I will not challenge in my forced boast,
And that’s Laodamas, for he’s mine host. 5
And who will fight, or wrangle, with his friend?
Unwise he is, and base, that will contend
With him that feeds him in a foreign place;
And takes all edge off from his own sought grace.
None else except I here, nor none despise,
But wish to know, and prove his faculties,
That dares appear now. No strife ye can name
Am I unskill’d in; reckon any game
Of all that are, as many as there are
In use with men. For archery I dare
Affirm myself not mean. Of all a troop
I’ll make the first foe with mine arrow stoop,
Though with me ne’er so many fellows bend
Their bows at mark’d men, and affect their end.
Only was Philoctetes with his bow
Still my superior, when we Greeks would show
Our archery against our foes of Troy.
But all, that now by bread frail life enjoy,
I far hold my inferiors. Men of old,
The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman Page 124
