How will his breast with honest fury glow!’
This said, the sounding strokes his horses fire,
And soon he reach’d the palace of his sire.
‘Now’ (cried Telemachus) ‘with speedy care
Hoist ev’ry sail, and ev’ry oar prepare!’ 245
Swift as the word his willing mates obey,
And seize their seats, impatient for the sea.
Meantime the Prince with sacrifice adores
Minerva, and her guardian aid implores;
When lo! a wretch ran breathless to the shore, 250
New from his crime; and reeking yet with gore.
A seer he was, from great Melampus sprung,
Melampus, who in Pylos flourish’d long,
Till, urged by wrongs, a foreign realm he chose,
Far from the hateful cause of all his woes. 255
Neleus his treasures one long year detains:
As long he groan’d in Phylacus’s chains:
Meantime, what anguish and what rage combin’d,
For lovely Pero rack’d his lab’ring mind!
Yet ‘scaped he death: and, vengeful of his wrong, 260
To Pylos drove the lowing herds along:
Then (Neleus vanquish’d, and consign’d the fair
To Bias’ arms) he sought a foreign air;
Argos the rich for his retreat he chose;
There form’d his empire: there his palace rose. 265
From him Antiphates and Mantius came;
The first begot Oïcleus great in fame,
And he Amphiaraüs, immortal name!
The people’s saviour, and divinely wise,
Belov’d by Jove, and him who gilds the skies; 270
Yet short his date of life! by female pride he dies.
From Mantius Clitus, whom Aurora’s love
Snatch’d for his beauty to the thrones above;
And Polyphides, on whom Phœbus shone
With fullest rays, Amphiaraüs now gone; 275
In Hyperesia’s groves he made abode,
And taught mankind the counsels of the God.
From him sprung Theoclymenus, who found
(The sacred wine yet foaming on the ground)
Telemachus: whom, as to Heav’n he press’d 280
His ardent vows, the stranger thus address’d:
‘O thou! that thy happy course prepare
With pure libations and with solemn prayer;
By that dread Power to whom thy vows are paid;
By all the lives of these; thy own dear head, 285
Declare sincerely to no foe’s demand
Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land.’
‘Prepare, then,’ said Telemachus, ‘to know
A tale from falsehood free, not free from woe.
From Ithaca, of royal birth I came, 290
And great Ulysses (ever-honour’d name!)
Once was my sire, tho’ now for ever lost,
In Stygian gloom he glides a pensive ghost!
Whose fate inquiring thro’ the world we rove:
The last, the wretched proof of filial love.’ 295
The stranger then: ‘Nor shall I aught conceal,
But the dire secret of my fate reveal.
Of my own tribe an Argive wretch I slew;
Whose powerful friends the luckless deed pursue
With unrelenting rage, and force from home 300
The blood-stain’d exile, ever doom’d to roam.
But bear, oh bear me o’er you azure flood;
Receive the suppliant! spare my destin’d blood!’
‘Stranger’ (replied the Prince), ‘securely rest
Affianc’d in our faith; henceforth our guest.’ 305
Thus affable, Ulysses’ godlike heir
Takes from the stranger’s hand the glitt’ring spear:
He climbs the ship, ascends the stern with haste,
And by his side the guest accepted placed.
The Chief his order gives: th’ obedient band 310
With due observance wait the Chief’s command.
With speed the mast they rear, with speed unbind
The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind.
Minerva calls; the ready gales obey
With rapid speed to whirl them o’er the sea. 315
Crunus they pass’d, next Chalcis roll’d away,
When thick’ning darkness closed the doubtful day;
The silver Phæa’s glitt’ring rills they lost,
And skimm’d along by Elis’ sacred coast.
Then cautious thro’ the rocky reaches wind, 320
And, turning sudden, shun the death design’d.
Meantime, the King, Eumæus, and the rest,
Sate in the cottage, at their rural feast:
The banquet pass’d, and satiate ev’ry man,
To try his host, Ulysses thus began: 325
‘Yet one night more, my friends, indulge your guest;
The last I purpose in your walls to rest;
To-morrow for myself I must provide,
And only ask your counsel, and a guide;
Patient to roam the street, by hunger led, 330
And bless the friendly hand that gives me bread.
There in Ulysses roof I may relate
Ulysses’ wand’rings to his royal mate;
Or, mingling with the suitors’ haughty train,
Not undeserving some support obtain. 335
Hermes to me his various gifts imparts,
Patron of industry and manual arts:
Few can with me in dext’rous works contend,
The pyre to build, the stubborn oak to rend;
To return the tasteful viand o’er the flame; 340
Or foam the goblet with a purple stream.
Such are the tasks of men of mean estate,
Whom fortune dooms to serve the rich and great.’
‘Alas! (Eumæus with a sigh rejoin’d)
‘How sprung a thought so monstrous in thy mind? 345
If on that godless race thou would’st attend,
Fate owes thee sure a miserable end!
Their wrongs and blasphemies ascend the sky,
And pull descending vengeance from on high.
Not such, my friend, the servants of their feast; 350
A blooming train in rich embroid’ry dress’d!
With earth’s whole tribute the bright table bends,
And smiling round celestial youth attends.
Stay, then; no eye askance beholds thee here;
Sweet is thy converse to each social ear: 355
Well pleas’d, and pleasing, in our cottage rest,
Till good Telemachus accepts his guest
With genial gifts, and change of fair attires,
And safe conveys thee where thy soul desires.’
To him the man of woes: ‘O gracious Jove 360
Reward this stranger’s hospitable love!
Who knows the son of sorrow to relieve,
Cheers the sad heart, nor lets affliction grieve.
Of all the ills unhappy mortals know,
A life of wand’rings is the greatest woe: 365
On all their weary ways wait Care and Pain,
And Pine and Penury, a meagre train.
To such a man since harbour you afford,
Relate the farther fortunes of your lord;
What cares his mother’s tender breast engage, 370
And sire forsaken on the verge of age;
Beneath the sun prolong they yet their breath,
Or range the house of darkness and of death?’
To whom the swain: ‘Attend what you inquire;
Laërtes lives, the miserable sire; 375
Lives, but implores of ev’ry Power to lay
The burden down, and wishes for the day.
Torn from his offspring in the eve of life,
Torn from th’ embraces of his tender wife,
Sole, and all comfortless, he waste
s away 380
Old age, untimely posting ere his day.
She too, sad mother! for Ulysses lost
Pined out her bloom, and vanish’d to a ghost
(So dire a fate, ye righteous Gods! avert
From ev’ry friendly, ev’ry feeling heart); 385
While yet she was, tho’ clouded o’er with grief,
Her pleasing converse minister’d relief:
With Ctimene, her youngest daughter, bred,
One roof contain’d us, and one table fed.
But when the softly-stealing pace of time 390
Crept on from childhood into youthful prime,
To Samos isle she sent the wedded fair;
Me to the fields, to tend the rural care;
Array’d in garments her own hands had wove,
Nor less the darling object of her love. 395
Her hapless death my brighter days o’ercast,
Yet Providence deserts me not at last:
My present labours food and drink procure,
And more, the pleasure to relieve the poor.
Small is the comfort from the Queen to hear 400
Unwelcome news, or vex the royal ear;
Blank and discontenanc’d the servants stand,
Nor dare to question where the proud command:
No profit springs beneath usurping powers;
Want feeds not there, where Luxury devours, 405
Nor harbours charity where riot reigns:
Proud are the Lords, and wretched are the Swains.’
The suff’ring Chief at this began to melt;
And, ‘O Eumæus! thou’ (he cries) ‘hast felt
The spite of Fortune too! her cruel hand 410
Snatch’d the an infant from thy native land!
Snatch’d from thy parents’ arms, thy parents’ eyes,
To early wants! a man of miseries!
The whole sad story, from its first, declare:
Sunk the fair city by the rage of war, 415
Where once thy parents dwelt? or did they keep,
In humbler life, the lowing herds and sheep?
So left perhaps to tend the fleecy train,
Rude pirates seiz’d, and shipp’d thee o’er the main?
Doom’d a fair prize to grace some Prince’s board, 420
The worthy purchase of a foreign Lord.’
‘If then my fortunes can delight my friend,
A story fruitful of events attend:
Another’s sorrow may thy ear enjoy,
And wine the lengthen’d intervals employ. 425
Long nights the now declining year bestows;
A part we consecrate to soft repose,
A part in pleasing talk we entertain;
For too much rest itself becomes a pain.
Let those, whom sleep invites, the call obey, 430
Their cares resuming with the dawning day:
Here let us feast, and to the feast be join’d
Discourse, the sweeter banquet of the mind;
Review the series of our lives, and taste
The melancholy joy of evils pass’d: 435
For he who much has suffer’d, much will know,
And pleas’d remembrance builds delight on woe.
‘Above Ortygia lies an isle of fame,
Far hence remote, and Syria is the name
(There curious eyes inscribed with wonder trace 440
The sun’s diurnal, and his annual race);
Not large, but fruitful; stored with grass, to keep
The bell’wing oxen and the bleating sheep;
Her sloping hills the mantling vines adorn,
And her rich valleys wave with golden corn. 445
No want, no famine, the glad natives know,
Nor sink by sickness to the shades below;
But when a length of years unnerves the strong,
Apollo comes, and Cynthia comes along.
They bend the silver bow with tender skill, 450
And, void of pain, the silent arrows kill.
Two equal tribes this fertile land divide,
Where two fair cities rise with equal pride,
But both in constant peace one Prince obey,
And Ctesius there, my father, holds the sway. 455
Freighted, it seems, with toys of ev’ry sort,
A ship of Sidon anchor’d in our port;
What time it chanc’d the palace entertain’d,
Skill’d in rich works, a woman of their land:
This nymph, where anchor’d the Phœnician train, 460
To wash her robes descending to the main,
A smooth-tongued sailor won her to his mind
(For love deceives the best of womankind).
A sudden trust from sudden liking grew;
She told her name, her race, and all she knew. 465
“I too” (she cried) “from glorious Sidon came.
My father Arybas, of wealthy fame;
But, snatch’d by pirates from my native place,
The Taphians sold me to this man’s embrace.”
‘“Haste then” (the false designing youth replied), 470
“Haste to thy country; love shall be thy guide;
Haste to thy father’s house, thy father’s breast,
For still he lives, and lives with riches blest.”
‘“Swear first” (she cried), “ye Sailors! to restore
A wretch in safety to her native shore.” 475
Swift as she ask’d, the read sailors swore.
She then proceeds: “Now let our compact made
Be nor by signal nor by word betray’d,
Nor near me any of your crew descried,
By road frequented, or by fountain side: 480
Be silence still our guard. The Monarch’s spies
(For watchful age is ready to surmise)
Are still at hand; and this reveal’d, must be
Death to yourselves, eternal chains to me.
Your vessel loaded, and your traffic pass’d, 485
Despatch a wary messenger with haste;
Then gold and costly treasures will I bring,
And more, the infant-offspring of the King.
Him, childlike wand’ring forth, I ‘ll lead away
(A noble prize!) and to your ship convey.” 490
‘Thus spoke the dame, and homeward took the road.
A year they traffic, and their vessel load.
Their stores complete, and ready now to weigh,
A spy was sent their summons to convey:
An artist to my father’s palace came, 495
With gold and amber chains, elab’rate frame:
Each female eye the glitt’ring links employ;
They turn, review, and cheapen ev’ry toy.
He took th’ occasion, as they stood intent,
Gave her the sign, and to his vessel went. 500
She straight pursued, and seiz’d my willing arm;
I follow’d smiling, innocent of harm.
Three golden goblets in the porch she found
(The guests not enter’d, but the table crown’d);
Hid in her fraudful bosom these she bore: 505
Now set the sun, and darken’d all the shore.
Arriving then, where, tilting on the tides,
Prepared to launch the freighted vessel rides,
Abroad they heave us, mount their decks, and sweep
With level oar along the glassy deep. 510
Six calmy days and six smooth nights we sail,
And constant Jove supplied the gentle gale.
The sev’nth, the fraudful wretch (no cause descried),
Touch’d by Diana’s vengeful arrow, died.
Down dropp’d the caitiff-corse, a worthless load, 515
Down to the deep; there roll’d, the future food
Of fierce sea-wolves, and monsters of the flood.
A helpless infant I remain’d behind;
Thence borne to Ithaca by wa
ve and wind;
Sold to Laërtes by divine command, 520
And now adopted to a foreign land.’
To him the King: ‘Reciting thus thy cares,
My secret soul in all thy sorrow shares;
But one choice blessing (such is Jove’s high will)
Has sweeten’d all thy bitter draught of ill: 525
Torn from thy country to no hapless end,
The Gods have, in a master, giv’n a friend.
Whatever frugal nature needs is thine
(For she needs little), daily bread and wine.
While I, so many wand’rings past and woes, 530
Live but on what thy poverty bestows.’
So pass’d in pleasing dialogue away
The night; then down to short repose they lay;
Till radiant rose the messenger of day.
While in the port of Ithaca, the band 535
Of young Telemachus approach’d the land;
Their sails they loos’d, they lash’d the mast aside,
And cast their anchors, and the cables tied:
Then on the breezy shore, descending, join
In grateful banquet o’er the rosy wine. 540
When thus the Prince: ‘Now each his course pursue:
I to the fields, and to the city you.
Long absent hence, I dedicate this day
My swains to visit, and the works survey.
Expect me with the morn, to pay the skies 545
Our debt of safe return in feast and sacrifice.’
Then Theoclymenus: ‘But who shall lend,
Meantime, protection to thy stranger friend?
Straight to the Queen and Palace shall I fly,
Or, yet more distant, to some Lord apply?’ 550
The Prince return’d: ‘Renown’d in days of yore
Has stood our father’s hospitable door;
No other roof a stranger should receive,
No other hands than ours the welcome give.
But in my absence riot fills the place, 555
Nor bears the modest Queen a stranger’s face;
From noiseful revel far remote she flies,
But rarely seen, or seen with weeping eyes.
No — let Eurymachus receive my guest,
Of nature courteous, and by far the best; 560
He woos the Queen with more respectful flame,
And emulates her former husband’s fame:
With what success, ‘t is Jove’s alone to know,
And the hoped nuptials turn to joy or woe.’
Thus speaking, on the right upsoar’d in air 565
The hawk, Apollo’s swift-wing’d messenger:
His deathful pounces tore a trembling dove;
The clotted feathers, scatter’d from above,
Between the hero and the vessel pour
Thick plumage, mingled with a sanguine shower. 570
Th’ observing augur took the Prince aside,
Alexander Pope - Delphi Poets Series Page 137
