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William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works

Page 147

by William Cowper


  Unless Ulysses, my illustrious Sire,

  Hath in his anger any Greecian wrong’d,

  Whose wrongs ye purpose to avenge on me,

  Inciting these to plague me. Better far

  Were my condition, if yourselves consumed

  My substance and my revenue; from you

  I might obtain, perchance, righteous amends 100

  Hereafter; you I might with vehement suit

  O’ercome, from house to house pleading aloud

  For recompense, till I at last prevail’d.

  But now, with darts of anguish ye transfix

  My inmost soul, and I have no redress.

  He spake impassion’d, and to earth cast down

  His sceptre, weeping. Pity at that sight

  Seiz’d all the people; mute the assembly sat

  Long time, none dared to greet Telemachus

  With answer rough, till of them all, at last, 110

  Antinoüs, sole arising, thus replied.

  Telemachus, intemp’rate in harangue,

  High-sounding orator! it is thy drift

  To make us all odious; but the offence

  Lies not with us the suitors; she alone

  Thy mother, who in subtlety excels,

  And deep-wrought subterfuge, deserves the blame.

  It is already the third year, and soon

  Shall be the fourth, since with delusive art

  Practising on their minds, she hath deceived 120

  The Greecians; message after message sent

  Brings hope to each, by turns, and promise fair,

  But she, meantime, far otherwise intends.

  Her other arts exhausted all, she framed

  This stratagem; a web of amplest size

  And subtlest woof beginning, thus she spake.

  Princes, my suitors! since the noble Chief

  Ulysses is no more, press not as yet

  My nuptials, wait till I shall finish, first,

  A fun’ral robe (lest all my threads decay) 130

  Which for the antient Hero I prepare,

  Laertes, looking for the mournful hour

  When fate shall snatch him to eternal rest;

  Else I the censure dread of all my sex,

  Should he, so wealthy, want at last a shroud.

  So spake the Queen, and unsuspicious, we

  With her request complied. Thenceforth, all day

  She wove the ample web, and by the aid

  Of torches ravell’d it again at night.

  Three years by such contrivance she deceived 140

  The Greecians; but when (three whole years elaps’d)

  The fourth arriv’d, then, conscious of the fraud,

  A damsel of her train told all the truth,

  And her we found rav’ling the beauteous work.

  Thus, through necessity she hath, at length,

  Perform’d the task, and in her own despight.

  Now therefore, for the information clear

  Of thee thyself, and of the other Greeks,

  We answer. Send thy mother hence, with charge

  That him she wed on whom her father’s choice 150

  Shall fall, and whom she shall, herself, approve.

  But if by long procrastination still

  She persevere wearing our patience out,

  Attentive only to display the gifts

  By Pallas so profusely dealt to her,

  Works of surpassing skill, ingenious thought,

  And subtle shifts, such as no beauteous Greek

  (For aught that we have heard) in antient times

  E’er practised, Tyro, or Alcemena fair,

  Or fair Mycene, of whom none in art 160

  E’er match’d Penelope, although we yield

  To this her last invention little praise,

  Then know, that these her suitors will consume

  So long thy patrimony and thy goods,

  As she her present purpose shall indulge,

  With which the Gods inspire her. Great renown

  She to herself insures, but equal woe

  And devastation of thy wealth to thee;

  For neither to our proper works at home

  Go we, of that be sure, nor yet elsewhere, 170

  Till him she wed, to whom she most inclines.

  Him prudent, then, answer’d Telemachus.

  Antinoüs! it is not possible

  That I should thrust her forth against her will,

  Who both produced and reared me. Be he dead,

  Or still alive, my Sire is far remote,

  And should I, voluntary, hence dismiss

  My mother to Icarius, I must much

  Refund, which hardship were and loss to me.

  So doing, I should also wrath incur 180

  From my offended Sire, and from the Gods

  Still more; for she, departing, would invoke

  Erynnis to avenge her, and reproach

  Beside would follow me from all mankind.

  That word I, therefore, never will pronounce.

  No, if ye judge your treatment at her hands

  Injurious to you, go ye forth yourselves,

  Forsake my mansion; seek where else ye may

  Your feasts; consume your own; alternate feed

  Each at the other’s cost. But if it seem 190

  Wisest in your account and best to eat

  Voracious thus the patrimonial goods

  Of one man, rend’ring no account of all,

  Bite to the roots; but know that I will cry

  Ceaseless to the eternal Gods, in hope

  That Jove, in retribution of the wrong,

  Shall doom you, where ye have intruded, there

  To bleed, and of your blood ask no account.

  So spake Telemachus, and while he spake,

  The Thund’rer from a lofty mountain-top 200

  Turn’d off two eagles; on the winds, awhile,

  With outspread pinions ample side by side

  They floated; but, ere long, hov’ring aloft,

  Right o’er the midst of the assembled Chiefs

  They wheel’d around, clang’d all their num’rous plumes,

  And with a downward look eyeing the throng,

  Death boded, ominous; then rending each

  The other’s face and neck, they sprang at once

  Toward the right, and darted through the town.

  Amazement universal, at that sight, 210

  Seized the assembly, and with anxious thought

  Each scann’d the future; amidst whom arose

  The Hero Halitherses, antient Seer,

  Offspring of Mastor; for in judgment he

  Of portents augural, and in forecast

  Unerring, his coevals all excell’d,

  And prudent thus the multitude bespake.

  Ye men of Ithaca, give ear! hear all!

  Though chief my speech shall to the suitors look,

  For, on their heads devolved, comes down the woe. 220

  Ulysses shall not from his friends, henceforth,

  Live absent long, but, hasting to his home,

  Comes even now, and as he comes, designs

  A bloody death for these, whose bitter woes

  No few shall share, inhabitants with us

  Of pleasant Ithaca; but let us frame

  Effectual means maturely to suppress

  Their violent deeds, or rather let themselves

  Repentant cease; and soonest shall be best.

  Not inexpert, but well-inform’d I speak 230

  The future, and the accomplishment announce

  Of all which when Ulysses with the Greeks

  Embark’d for Troy, I to himself foretold.

  I said that, after many woes, and loss

  Of all his people, in the twentieth year,

  Unknown to all, he should regain his home,

  And my prediction shall be now fulfill’d.

  Him, then, Eurymachus thus answer’d rough

&nbs
p; The son of Polybus. Hence to thy house,

  Thou hoary dotard! there, prophetic, teach 240

  Thy children to escape woes else to come.

  Birds num’rous flutter in the beams of day,

  Not all predictive. Death, far hence remote

  Hath found Ulysses, and I would to heav’n

  That, where he died, thyself had perish’d too.

  Thou hadst not then run o’er with prophecy

  As now, nor provocation to the wrath

  Giv’n of Telemachus, in hope to win,

  Perchance, for thine some favour at his hands.

  But I to thee foretell, skilled as thou art 250

  In legends old, (nor shall my threat be vain)

  That if by artifice thou move to wrath

  A younger than thyself, no matter whom,

  Woe first the heavier on himself shall fall,

  Nor shalt thou profit him by thy attempt,

  And we will charge thee also with a mulct,

  Which thou shalt pay with difficulty, and bear

  The burthen of it with an aching heart.

  As for Telemachus, I him advise,

  Myself, and press the measure on his choice 260

  Earnestly, that he send his mother hence

  To her own father’s house, who shall, himself,

  Set forth her nuptial rites, and shall endow

  His daughter sumptuously, and as he ought.

  For this expensive wooing, as I judge,

  Till then shall never cease; since we regard

  No man — no — not Telemachus, although

  In words exub’rant; neither fear we aught

  Thy vain prognostics, venerable sir!

  But only hate thee for their sake the more. 270

  Waste will continue and disorder foul

  Unremedied, so long as she shall hold

  The suitors in suspense, for, day by day,

  Our emulation goads us to the strife,

  Nor shall we, going hence, seek to espouse

  Each his own comfort suitable elsewhere.

  To whom, discrete, Telemachus replied.

  Eurymachus, and ye the suitor train

  Illustrious, I have spoken: ye shall hear

  No more this supplication urged by me. 280

  The Gods, and all the Greeks, now know the truth.

  But give me instantly a gallant bark

  With twenty rowers, skill’d their course to win

  To whatsoever haven; for I go

  To sandy Pylus, and shall hasten thence

  To Lacedemon, tidings to obtain

  Of my long-absent Sire, or from the lips

  Of man, or by a word from Jove vouchsafed

  Himself, best source of notice to mankind.

  If, there inform’d that still my father lives, 290

  I hope conceive of his return, although

  Distress’d, I shall be patient yet a year.

  But should I learn, haply, that he survives

  No longer, then, returning, I will raise

  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

 

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