Alexander Pope - Delphi Poets Series
Page 132
Replenish’d from the cool translucent springs;
With copious water the bright vase supplies 435
A silver laver of capacious size.
I wash’d. The table in fair order spread,
They heap the glitt’ring canisters with bread;
Viands of various kinds allure the taste,
Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast! 440
Circe in vain invites the feast to share;
Absent I ponder, and absorb’d in care:
While scenes of woe rose anxious in my breast,
The Queen beheld me, and these words address’d:
‘“Why sits Ulysses silent and apart, 445
Some hoard of grief close harbour’d at his heart?
Untouch’d before thee stand the cates divine,
And unregarded laughs the rosy wine.
Can yet a doubt or any dread remain,
When sworn that oath which never can be vain?” 450
‘I answered: “Goddess! human is my breast,
By justice sway’d, by tender pity press’d:
Ill fits it me, whose friends are sunk to beasts,
To quaff thy bowls, or riot in thy feasts.
Me would’st thou please? for them thy cares employ, 455
And them to me restore, and me to joy.”
‘With that she parted: in her potent hand
She bore the virtue of the magic wand.
Then, hast’ning to the sties, set wide the door,
Urged forth, and drove the bristly herd before; 460
Unwieldy, out they rush’d with gen’ral cry,
Enormous beasts dishonest to the eye.
Now, touch’d by counter-charms, they change again,
And stand majestic, and recall’d to men.
Those hairs of late that bristled ev’ry part, 465
Fall off, miraculous effect of art!
Till all the form in full proportion rise,
More young, more large, more graceful to my eyes.
They saw, they knew me, and with eager pace
Clung to their master in a long embrace: 470
Sad, pleasing sight! with tears each eye ran o’er,
And sobs of joy re-echoed thro’ the bower;
Ev’n Circe wept, her adamantine heart
Felt pity enter, and sustain’d her part.
‘“Son of Laërtes!’ (then the Queen began) 475
“Oh much-enduring, much-experienc’d man!
Haste to thy vessel on the sea-beat shore,
Unload thy treasures, and the galley moor;
Then bring thy friends, secure from future harms,
And in our grottoes stow thy spoils and arms.” 480
‘She said. Obedient to her high command
I quit the place, and hasten to the strand.
My sad companions on the beach I found,
Their wistful eyes in floods of sorrow drown’d.
As from fresh pastures and the dewy field 485
(When loaded cribs their ev’ning banquet yield),
The lowing herds return; around them throng
With leaps and bounds their late imprison’d young,
Rush to their mothers with unruly joy,
And echoing hills return the tender cry: 490
So round me press’d, exulting at my sight,
With cries and agonies of wild delight,
The weeping sailors; nor less fierce their joy
Than if return’d to Ithaca from Troy.
“Ah master! ever honour’d, ever dear!” 495
(These tender words on ev’ry side I hear)
“What other joy can equal thy return?
Not that lov’d country for whose sight we mourn,
The soil that nurs’d us, and that gave us breath:
But ah! relate our lost companions’ death.” 500
‘I answer’d cheerful: “Haste, your galley moor
And bring our treasures and our arms ashore:
Those in yon hollow caverns let us lay;
Then rise, and follow where I lead the way.
Your fellows live; believe your eyes, and come 505
To taste the joys of Circe’s sacred dome.”
‘With ready speed the joyful crew obey;
Alone Eurylochus persuades their stay.
‘“Whither” (he cried), “ah whither will ye run?
Seek ye to meet those evils ye should shun? 510
Will you the terrors of the dome explore,
In swine to grovel, or in lions roar,
Or wolf-like howl away the midnight hour
In dreadful watch around the magic bower?
Remember Cyclops, and his bloody deed; 515
The leader’s rashness made the soldiers bleed.”
‘I heard the incens’d, and first resolv’d to speed
My flying faulchion at the rebel’s head.
Dear as he was, by ties of kindred bound,
This hand had stretch’d him breathless on the ground; 520
But all at once my interposing train
For mercy pleaded, nor could plead in vain:
“Leave here the man who dares his Prince desert,
Leave to repentance and his own sad heart,
To guard the ship. Seek we the sacred shades 525
Of Circe’s palace, where Ulysses leads.”
‘This with one voice declared, the rising train
Left the black vessel by the murm’ring main.
Shame touch’d Eurylochus’s alter’d breast;
He fear’d my threats, and follow’d with the rest. 530
‘Meanwhile the Goddess, with indulgent cares
And social joys, the late transform’d repairs;
The bath, the feast, their fainting soul renews;
Rich in refulgent robes, and dropping balmy dews:
Bright’ning with joy their eager eyes behold 535
Each other’s face, and each his story told;
Then gushing tears the narrative confound,
And with their souls the vaulted roofs resound.
When hush’d their passions, thus the Goddess cries:
“Ulysses, taught by labours to be wise, 540
Let this short memory of grief suffice.
To me are known the various woes ye bore,
In storms by sea, in perils on the shore;
Forget whatever was in Fortune’s power,
And share the pleasures of this genial hour. 545
Such be your minds as ere ye left the coast,
Or learn’d to sorrow for a country lost.
Exiles and wand’rers now, where’er ye go,
Too faithful memory renews your woe:
The cause remov’d habitual griefs remain, 550
And the soul saddens by the use of pain”
‘Her kind entreaty mov’d the gen’ral breast;
Tired with long toil, we willing sunk to rest.
We plied the banquet, and the bowl we crown’d,
Till the full circle of the year came round. 555
But when the seasons, foll’wing in their train,
Brought back the months, the days, and hours again,
As from a lethargy at once they rise,
And urge their chief with animating cries:
‘“Is this, Ulysses, our inglorious lot? 560
And is the name of Ithaca forgot?
Shall never the dear land in prospect rise,
Or the lov’d palace glitter in our eyes?”
‘Melting I heard: yet till the sun’s decline
Prolong’d the feast, and quaff’d the rosy wine: 565
But when the shades came on at ev’ning hour,
And all lay slumb’ring in the dusky bower,
I came a suppliant to fair Circe’s bed,
The tender moment seiz’d, and thus I said:
“Be mindful, Goddess! of thy promise made; 570
Must sad Ulysses ever be delay’d?
Around their lord my sad comp
anions mourn,
Each breast beats homeward, anxious to return:
If but a moment parted from thy eyes,
Their tears flow round me, and my heart complies.” 575
‘“Go then” (she cried), “ah go! yet think not I,
Not Circe, but the Fates, your wish deny.
Ah hope not yet to breathe thy native air!
Far other journey first demands thy care;
To tread th’ uncomfortable paths beneath, 580
And view the realms of darkness and of death.
There seek the Theban bard, deprived of sight;
Within, irradiate with prophetic light;
To whom Persephonè, entire and whole,
Gave to retain th’ unseparated soul: 585
The rest are forms, of empty ether made;
Impassive semblance, and a flitting shade.”
‘Struck at the word, my very heart was dead:
Pensive I sate: my tears bedew’d the bed:
To hate the light and life my soul begun, 590
And saw that all was grief beneath the sun.
Composed at length, the gushing tears suppress’d,
And my toss’d limbs now wearied into rest,
“How shall I tread” (I cried), “ah, Circe! say,
The dark descent, and who shall guide the way? 595
Can living eyes behold the realms below?
What bark to waft me, and what wind to blow?”
‘“Thy fated road” (the magic Power replied),
“Divine Ulysses! asks no mortal guide.
Rear but the mast, the spacious sail display, 600
The northern winds shall wing thee on thy way.
Soon shalt thou reach old Ocean’s utmost ends,
Where to the main the shelving shore descends:
The barren trees of Proserpine’s black woods,
Poplars and willows trembling o’er the floods; 605
There fix thy vessel in the lonely bay,
And enter there the kingdoms void of day:
Where Phlegethon’s loud torrents, rushing down,
Hiss in the flaming gulf of Acheron;
And where, slow-rolling from the Stygian bed, 610
Cocytus’ lamentable waters spread:
Where the dark rock o’erhangs th’ infernal lake,
And mingling streams eternal murmurs make.
First draw thy faulchion, and on ev’ry side
Trench the black earth a cubit long and wide: 615
To all the shades around libations pour,
And o’er th’ ingredients strew the hallow’d flour:
New wine and milk, with honey temper’d bring,
And living water from the crystal spring.
Then the wan shades and feeble ghosts implore, 620
With promis’d off’rings on thy native shore:
A barren cow, the stateliest of the isle,
And, heap’d with various wealth, a blazing pile:
These to the rest; but to the seer must bleed
A sable ram, the pride of all thy breed. 625
These solemn vows, and holy off’rings, paid
To all the phantom nations of the dead,
Be next thy care the sable sheep to place
Full o’er the pit, and hellward turn their face;
But from th’ infernal rite thine eye withdraw, 630
And back to Ocean glance with rev’rent awe.
Sudden shall skim along the dusky glades
Thin airy shoals, and visionary shades.
Then give command the sacrifice to haste,
Let the flay’d victims in the flame be cast, 635
And sacred vows and mystic song applied
To grisly Pluto and his gloomy bride.
Wide o’er the pool thy faulchion waved around
Shall drive the spectres from forbidden ground:
The sacred draught shall all the dead forbear, 640
Till awful from the shades arise the seer.
Let him, oraculous, the end, the way,
The turns of all thy future fate display,
Thy pilgrimage to come, and remnant of thy day.”
‘So speaking, from the ruddy orient shone 645
The Morn, conspicuous on her golden throne.
The Goddess with a radiant tunic dress’d
My limbs, and o’er me cast a silken vest.
Long flowing robes, of purest white, array
The Nymph, that added lustre to the day: 650
A tiar wreath’d her head with many a fold;
Her waist was circled with a zone of gold.
Forth issuing then, from place to place I flew;
Rouse man by man, and animate my crew.
“Rise, rise, my mates! ‘t is Circe gives command: 655
Our journey calls us: haste, and quit the land.”
All rise and follow, yet depart not all,
For Fate decreed one wretched man to fall.
‘A youth there was, Elpenor was he named,
Not much for sense, nor much for courage famed: 660
The youngest of our band, a vulgar soul,
Born but to banquet, and to drain the bowl.
He, hot and careless, on a turret’s height
With sleep repair’d the long debauch of night:
The sudden tumult stirr’d him where he lay, 665
And down he hasten’d, but forgot the way;
Full headlong from the roof the sleeper fell,
And snapp’d the spinal joint, and waked in Hell.
‘The rest crowd round me with an eager look;
I met them with a sigh, and thus bespoke: 670
“Already, friends! ye think your toils are o’er,
Your hopes already touch your native shore:
Alas! far otherwise the Nymph declares,
Far other journey first demands our cares:
To tread th’ uncomfortable paths beneath, 675
The dreary realms of darkness and of death;
To seek Tiresias’ awful shade below,
And thence our fortunes and our fates to know.”
‘My sad companions heard in deep despair;
Frantic they tore their manly growth of hair; 680
To earth they fell; the tears began to rain;
But tears in mortal miseries are vain.
Sadly they fared along the sea-beat shore:
Still heav’d their hearts, and still their eyes ran o’er.
The ready victims at our bark we found, 685
The sable ewe and ram, together bound.
For, swift as thought, the Goddess had been there,
And thence had glided viewless as the air:
The paths of Gods what mortal can survey?
Who eyes their motion? who shall trace their way?’ 690
Odyssey Book XIII. The Arrival of Ulysses in Ithaca
THE ARGUMENT
Ulysses takes his leave of Alcinoüs and Aretè, and embarks in the evening. Next morning the ship arrives at Ithaca; where the sailors, as Ulysses is yet sleeping, lay him on the shore with all his treasures. On their return, Neptune changes their ship into a rock. In the mean time, Ulysses awaking, knows not his native Ithaca, by reason of a mist which Pallas had cast round him. He breaks into loud lamentations; till the Goddess appearing to him in the form of a shepherd, discovers the country to him, and points out the particular places. He then tells a feigned story of his adventures, upon which she manifests herself, and they consult together on the measures to be taken to destroy the suitors. To conceal his return, and disguise his person the more effectually, she changes him into the figure of an old beggar.
HE ceas’d; but left so pleasing on their ear
His voice, that list’ning still they seem’d to hear.
A pause of silence hush’d the shady rooms:
The grateful conf’rence then the King resumes:
‘Whatever toils the great Ulysses pass’d, 5
Beneath this hap
py roof they end at last;
No longer now from shore to shore to roam,
Smooth seas and gentle winds invite him home.
But hear me, Princes! whom these walls enclose,
For whom my chanter sings, and goblet flows 10
With wine unmix’d (an honour due to age,
To cheer the grave, and warm the poet’s rage),
Tho’ labour’d gold, and many a dazzling vest
Lie heap’d already for our godlike guest:
Without new treasures let him not remove, 15
Large, and expressive of the public love:
Each Peer a tripod, each a vase bestow,
A gen’ral tribute, which the state shall owe.’
This sentence pleas’d: then all their steps address’d
To sep’rate mansions, and retired to rest. 20
Now did the Rosy-finger’d Morn arise,
And shed her sacred light along the skies.
Down to the haven and the ships in haste
They bore the treasures, and in safety placed.
The King himself the vases ranged with care; 25
Then bade his foll’wers to the feast repair.
A victim ox beneath the sacred hand
Of great Alcinoüs falls, and stains the sand.
To Jove th’ Eternal (Power above all Powers!
Who wings the winds, and darkens Heav’n with showers), 30
The flames ascend: till ev’ning they prolong
The rites, more sacred made by heav’nly song:
For in the midst with public honours graced,
Thy lyre, divine Demodocus! was placed.
All, but Ulysses, heard with fix’d delight: 35
He sate, and eyed the sun, and wish’d the night:
Slow seem’d the sun to move, the hours to roll,
His native home deep-imaged in his soul.
As the tired ploughman spent with stubborn toil,
Whose oxen long have torn the furrow’d soil, 40
Sees with delight the sun’s declining ray,
When home with feeble knees he bends his way
To late repast (the day’s hard labour done),
So to Ulysses welcome set the sun;
Then instant to Alcinoüs and the rest 45
(The Scherian states) he turn’d, and thus address’d.
‘O thou, the first in merit and command!
And you the Peers and Princes of the land!
May ev’ry joy be yours! nor this the least,
When due libation shall have crown’d the feast, 50
Safe to my home to send your happy guest.
Complete are now the bounties you have giv’n,
Be all those bounties but confirm’d by Heav’n!
So may I find, when all my wand’rings cease,
My consort blameless, and my friends in peace. 55