Both cakes and water, and with earnest pray’r
To Pallas, gave the forelock to the flames. 560
When all had worshipp’d, and the broken cakes
Sprinkled, then godlike Thrasymedes drew
Close to the ox, and smote him. Deep the edge
Enter’d, and senseless on the floor he fell.
Then Nestor’s daughters, and the consorts all
Of Nestor’s sons, with his own consort, chaste
Eurydice, the daughter eldest-born
Of Clymenus, in one shrill orison
Vocif’rous join’d, while they, lifting the ox,
Held him supported firmly, and the prince 570
Of men, Pisistratus, his gullet pierced.
Soon as the sable blood had ceased, and life
Had left the victim, spreading him abroad,
With nice address they parted at the joint
His thighs, and wrapp’d them in the double cawl,
Which with crude slices thin they overspread.
Nestor burn’d incense, and libation pour’d
Large on the hissing brands, while him beside,
Busy with spit and prong, stood many a youth
Train’d to the task. The thighs consumed, each took
His portion of the maw, then, slashing well 581
The remnant, they transpierced it with the spits
Neatly, and held it reeking at the fire.
Meantime the youngest of the daughters fair
Of Nestor, beauteous Polycaste, laved,
Anointed, and in vest and tunic cloathed
Telemachus, who, so refresh’d, stepp’d forth
From the bright laver graceful as a God,
And took his seat at antient Nestor’s side.
The viands dress’d, and from the spits withdrawn, 590
They sat to share the feast, and princely youths
Arising, gave them wine in cups of gold.
When neither hunger now nor thirst remain’d
Unsated, thus Gerenian Nestor spake.
My sons, arise, lead forth the sprightly steeds,
And yoke them, that Telemachus may go.
So spake the Chief, to whose commands his sons,
Obedient, yoked in haste the rapid steeds,
And the intendant matron of the stores
Disposed meantime within the chariot, bread 600
And wine, and dainties, such as princes eat.
Telemachus into the chariot first
Ascended, and beside him, next, his place
Pisistratus the son of Nestor took,
Then seiz’d the reins, and lash’d the coursers on.
They, nothing loth, into the open plain
Flew, leaving lofty Pylus soon afar.
Thus, journeying, they shook on either side
The yoke all day, and now the setting sun
To dusky evening had resign’d the roads, 610
When they to Pheræ came, and the abode
Reach’d of Diocles, whose illustrious Sire
Orsilochus from Alpheus drew his birth,
And there, with kindness entertain’d, they slept.
But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
Look’d rosy from the East, yoking the steeds,
They in their sumptuous chariot sat again.
The son of Nestor plied the lash, and forth
Through vestibule and sounding portico
The royal coursers, not unwilling, flew. 620
A corn-invested land receiv’d them next,
And there they brought their journey to a close,
So rapidly they moved; and now the sun
Went down, and even-tide dimm’d all the ways.
BOOK IV
ARGUMENT
Telemachus, with Pisistratus, arrives at the palace of Menelaus, from
whom he receives some fresh information concerning the return of the
Greecians, and is in particular told on the authority of Proteus, that
his father is detained by Calypso. The suitors, plotting against the life
of Telemachus, lie in wait to intercept him in his return to Ithaca.
Penelope being informed of his departure, and of their designs to slay
him, becomes inconsolable, but is relieved by a dream sent to her from
Minerva.
In hollow Lacedæmon’s spacious vale
Arriving, to the house they drove direct
Of royal Menelaus; him they found
In his own palace, all his num’rous friends
Regaling at a nuptial banquet giv’n
Both for his daughter and the prince his son.
His daughter to renown’d Achilles’ heir
He sent, to whom he had at Troy engaged
To give her, and the Gods now made her his.
With chariots and with steeds he sent her forth 10
To the illustrious city where the prince,
Achilles’ offspring, ruled the Myrmidons.
But to his son he gave a Spartan fair,
Alector’s daughter; from an handmaid sprang
That son to Menelaus in his age,
Brave Megapenthes; for the Gods no child
To Helen gave, made mother, once, of her
Who vied in perfect loveliness of form
With golden Venus’ self, Hermione.
Thus all the neighbour princes and the friends 20
Of noble Menelaus, feasting sat
Within his spacious palace, among whom
A sacred bard sang sweetly to his harp,
While, in the midst, two dancers smote the ground
With measur’d steps responsive to his song.
And now the Heroes, Nestor’s noble son
And young Telemachus arrived within
The vestibule, whom, issuing from the hall,
The noble Eteoneus of the train
Of Menelaus, saw; at once he ran 30
Across the palace to report the news
To his Lord’s ear, and, standing at his side,
In accents wing’d with haste thus greeted him.
Oh Menelaus! Heav’n descended Chief!
Two guests arrive, both strangers, but the race
Of Jove supreme resembling each in form.
Say, shall we loose, ourselves, their rapid steeds,
Or hence dismiss them to some other host?
But Menelaus, Hero golden-hair’d,
Indignant answer’d him. Boethe’s son! 40
Thou wast not, Eteoneus, heretofore,
A babbler, who now pratest as a child.
We have ourselves arrived indebted much
To hospitality of other men,
If Jove shall, even here, some pause at last
Of woe afford us. Therefore loose, at once,
Their steeds, and introduce them to the feast.
He said, and, issuing, Eteoneus call’d
The brisk attendants to his aid, with whom
He loos’d their foaming coursers from the yoke. 50
Them first they bound to mangers, which with oats
And mingled barley they supplied, then thrust
The chariot sidelong to the splendid wall.
Themselves he, next, into the royal house
Conducted, who survey’d, wond’ring, the abode
Of the heav’n-favour’d King; for on all sides
As with the splendour of the sun or moon
The lofty dome of Menelaus blazed.
Satiate, at length, with wonder at that sight,
They enter’d each a bath, and by the hands 60
Of maidens laved, and oil’d, and cloath’d again
With shaggy mantles and resplendent vests,
Sat both enthroned at Menelaus’ side.
And now a maiden charged with golden ew’r,
And with an argent laver, pouring first
Pure water on their hands, supplied them next
With a bright table, whic
h the maiden, chief
In office, furnish’d plenteously with bread
And dainties, remnants of the last regale.
Then came the sew’r, who with delicious meats 70
Dish after dish, served them, and placed beside
The chargers cups magnificent of gold,
When Menelaus grasp’d their hands, and said.
Eat and rejoice, and when ye shall have shared
Our nuptial banquet, we will then inquire
Who are ye both, for, certain, not from those
Whose generation perishes are ye,
But rather of some race of sceptred Chiefs
Heav’n-born; the base have never sons like you.
So saying, he from the board lifted his own 80
Distinguish’d portion, and the fatted chine
Gave to his guests; the sav’ry viands they
With outstretch’d hands assail’d, and when the force
No longer now of appetite they felt,
Telemachus, inclining close his head
To Nestor’s son, lest others should his speech
Witness, in whisper’d words him thus address’d.
Dearest Pisistratus, observe, my friend!
How all the echoing palace with the light
Of beaming brass, of gold and amber shines 90
Silver and ivory! for radiance such
Th’ interior mansion of Olympian Jove
I deem. What wealth, how various, how immense
Is here! astonish’d I survey the sight!
But Menelaus, golden-hair’d, his speech
O’erhearing, thus in accents wing’d replied
My children! let no mortal man pretend
Comparison with Jove; for Jove’s abode
And all his stores are incorruptible.
But whether mortal man with me may vie 100
In the display of wealth, or whether not,
This know, that after many toils endured,
And perilous wand’rings wide, in the eighth year
I brought my treasures home. Remote I roved
To Cyprus, to Phœnice, to the shores
Of Ægypt; Æthiopia’s land I reach’d,
Th’ Erembi, the Sidonians, and the coasts
Of Lybia, where the lambs their foreheads shew
At once with horns defended, soon as yean’d.
There, thrice within the year the flocks produce, 110
Nor master, there, nor shepherd ever feels
A dearth of cheese, of flesh, or of sweet milk
Delicious, drawn from udders never dry.
While, thus, commodities on various coasts
Gath’ring I roam’d, another, by the arts
Of his pernicious spouse aided, of life
Bereav’d my brother privily, and when least
He fear’d to lose it. Therefore little joy
To me results from all that I possess.
Your fathers (be those fathers who they may) 120
These things have doubtless told you; for immense
Have been my suff’rings, and I have destroy’d
A palace well inhabited and stored
With precious furniture in ev’ry kind;
Such, that I would to heav’n! I own’d at home
Though but the third of it, and that the Greeks
Who perish’d then, beneath the walls of Troy
Far from steed-pastured Argos, still survived.
Yet while, sequester’d here, I frequent mourn
My slaughter’d friends, by turns I sooth my soul 130
With tears shed for them, and by turns again
I cease; for grief soon satiates free indulged.
But of them all, although I all bewail,
None mourn I so as one, whom calling back
To memory, I both sleep and food abhor.
For, of Achaia’s sons none ever toiled
Strenuous as Ulysses; but his lot
Was woe, and unremitting sorrow mine
For his long absence, who, if still he live,
We know not aught, or be already dead. 140
Him doubtless, old Laertes mourns, and him
Discrete Penelope, nor less his son
Telemachus, born newly when he sail’d.
So saying, he kindled in him strong desire
To mourn his father; at his father’s name
Fast fell his tears to ground, and with both hands
He spread his purple cloak before his eyes;
Which Menelaus marking, doubtful sat
If he should leave him leisure for his tears,
Or question him, and tell him all at large. 150
While thus he doubted, Helen (as it chanced)
Leaving her fragrant chamber, came, august
As Dian, goddess of the golden bow.
Adrasta, for her use, set forth a throne,
Alcippe with soft arras cover’d it,
And Philo brought her silver basket, gift
Of fair Alcandra, wife of Polybus,
Whose mansion in Ægyptian Thebes is rich
In untold treasure, and who gave, himself,
Ten golden talents, and two silver baths 160
To Menelaus, with two splendid tripods
Beside the noble gifts which, at the hand
Of his illustrious spouse, Helen receiv’d;
A golden spindle, and a basket wheel’d,
Itself of silver, and its lip of gold.
That basket Philo, her own handmaid, placed
At beauteous Helen’s side, charged to the brim
With slender threads, on which the spindle lay
With wool of purple lustre wrapp’d around.
Approaching, on her foot-stool’d throne she sat, 170
And, instant, of her royal spouse enquired.
Know we, my Menelaus, dear to Jove!
These guests of ours, and whence they have arrived?
Erroneous I may speak, yet speak I must;
In man or woman never have I seen
Such likeness to another (wonder-fixt
I gaze) as in this stranger to the son
Of brave Ulysses, whom that Hero left
New-born at home, when (shameless as I was)
For my unworthy sake the Greecians sailed 180
To Ilium, with fierce rage of battle fir’d.
Then Menelaus, thus, the golden-hair’d.
I also such resemblance find in him
As thou; such feet, such hands, the cast of eye
Similar, and the head and flowing locks.
And even now, when I Ulysses named,
And his great sufferings mention’d, in my cause,
The bitter tear dropp’d from his lids, while broad
Before his eyes his purple cloak he spread.
To whom the son of Nestor thus replied. 190
Atrides! Menelaus! Chief renown’d!
He is in truth his son, as thou hast said,
But he is modest, and would much himself
Condemn, if, at his first arrival here,
He should loquacious seem and bold to thee,
To whom we listen, captived by thy voice,
As if some God had spoken. As for me,
Nestor, my father, the Gerenian Chief
Bade me conduct him hither, for he wish’d
To see thee, promising himself from thee 200
The benefit of some kind word or deed.
For, destitute of other aid, he much
His father’s tedious absence mourns at home.
So fares Telemachus; his father strays
Remote, and, in his stead, no friend hath he
Who might avert the mischiefs that he feels.
To whom the Hero amber-hair’d replied.
Ye Gods! the offspring of indeed a friend
Hath reach’d my house, of one who hath endured
Arduous conflicts num’rous for my sake; 210
And much I purpos’d, had Olympi
an Jove
Vouchsaf’d us prosp’rous passage o’er the Deep,
To have receiv’d him with such friendship here
As none beside. In Argos I had then
Founded a city for him, and had rais’d
A palace for himself; I would have brought
The Hero hither, and his son, with all
His people, and with all his wealth, some town
Evacuating for his sake, of those
Ruled by myself, and neighb’ring close my own. 220
Thus situate, we had often interchanged
Sweet converse, nor had other cause at last
Our friendship terminated or our joys,
Than death’s black cloud o’ershadowing him or me.
But such delights could only envy move
Ev’n in the Gods, who have, of all the Greeks,
Amerc’d him only of his wish’d return.
So saying, he kindled the desire to weep
In ev’ry bosom. Argive Helen wept
Abundant, Jove’s own daughter; wept as fast 230
Telemachus and Menelaus both;
Nor Nestor’s son with tearless eyes remain’d,
Calling to mind Antilochus by the son
Illustrious of the bright Aurora slain,
Rememb’ring whom, in accents wing’d he said.
Atrides! antient Nestor, when of late
Conversing with him, we remember’d thee,
Pronounced thee wise beyond all human-kind.
Now therefore, let not even my advice
Displease thee. It affords me no delight 240
To intermingle tears with my repast,
And soon, Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
Will tinge the orient. Not that I account
Due lamentation of a friend deceased
Blameworthy, since, to sheer the locks and weep,
Is all we can for the unhappy dead.
I also have my grief, call’d to lament
One, not the meanest of Achaia’s sons,
My brother; him I cannot but suppose
To thee well-known, although unknown to me 250
Who saw him never; but report proclaims
Antilochus superior to the most,
In speed superior, and in feats of arms.
To whom, the Hero of the yellow locks.
O friend belov’d! since nought which thou hast said
Or recommended now, would have disgraced
A man of years maturer far than thine,
(For wise thy father is, and such art thou,
And easy is it to discern the son
Of such a father, whom Saturnian Jove 260
In marriage both and at his birth ordain’d
To great felicity; for he hath giv’n
To Nestor gradually to sink at home
Into old age, and, while he lives, to see
His sons past others wise, and skill’d in arms)
William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 150
