Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  If yet he lives, with patience I forbear,

  Till the fleet hours restore the circling year;

  But if already wandering in the train

  Of empty shades, I measure back the main,

  Plant the fair column o'er the mighty dead,

  And yield his consort to the nuptial bed."

  He ceased; and while abash'd the peers attend,

  Mentor arose, Ulysses' faithful friend:

  (When fierce in arms he sought the scenes of war,

  "My friend (he cried), my palace be thy care;

  Years roll'd on years my godlike sire decay,

  Guard thou his age, and his behests obey.")

  Stern as he rose, he cast his eyes around,

  That flash'd with rage; and as spoke, he frown'd,

  "O never, never more let king be just,

  Be mild in power, or faithful to his trust!

  Let tyrants govern with an iron rod,

  Oppress, destroy, and be the scourge of God;

  Since he who like a father held his reign,

  So soon forgot, was just and mild in vain!

  True, while my friend is grieved, his griefs I share;

  Yet now the rivals are my smallest care:

  They for the mighty mischiefs they devise,

  Ere long shall pay — their forfeit lives the price.

  But against you, ye Greeks! ye coward train!

  Gods! how my soul is moved with just disdain!

  Dumb ye all stand, and not one tongue affords

  His injured prince the little aid of words."

  While yet he spoke, Leocritus rejoined:

  "O pride of words, and arrogance of mind!

  Would'st thou to rise in arms the Greeks advise?

  Join all your powers? in arms, ye Greeks, arise!

  Yet would your powers in vain our strength oppose.

  The valiant few o'ermatch a host of foes.

  Should great Ulysses stern appear in arms,

  While the bowl circles and the banquet warms;

  Though to his breast his spouse with transport flies,

  Torn from her breast, that hour, Ulysses dies.

  But hence retreating to your domes repair.

  To arm the vessel, Mentor! be thy care,

  And Halitherses! thine: be each his friend;

  Ye loved the father: go, the son attend.

  But yet, I trust, the boaster means to stay

  Safe in the court, nor tempt the watery way."

  Then, with a rushing sound the assembly bend

  Diverse their steps: the rival rout ascend

  The royal dome; while sad the prince explores

  The neighbouring main, and sorrowing treads the shores.

  There, as the waters o'er his hands he shed,

  The royal suppliant to Minerva pray'd:

  "O goddess! who descending from the skies

  Vouchsafed thy presence to my wondering eyes,

  By whose commands the raging deeps I trace,

  And seek my sire through storms and rolling seas!

  Hear from thy heavens above, O warrior maid!

  Descend once more, propitious to my aid.

  Without thy presence, vain is thy command:

  Greece, and the rival train, thy voice withstand."

  Indulgent to his prayer, the goddess took

  Sage Mentor's form, and thus like Mentor spoke:

  "O prince, in early youth divinely wise,

  Born, the Ulysses of thy age to rise

  If to the son the father's worth descends,

  O'er the wide wave success thy ways attends

  To tread the walks of death he stood prepared;

  And what he greatly thought, he nobly dared.

  Were not wise sons descendant of the wise,

  And did not heroes from brave heroes rise,

  Vain were my hopes: few sons attain the praise

  Of their great sires, and most their sires disgrace.

  But since thy veins paternal virtue fires,

  And all Penelope thy soul inspires,

  Go, and succeed: the rivals' aims despise;

  For never, never wicked man was wise.

  Blind they rejoice, though now, ev'n now they fall;

  Death hastes amain: one hour o'erwhelms them all!

  And lo, with speed we plough the watery way;

  My power shall guard thee, and my hand convey:

  The winged vessel studious I prepare,

  Through seas and realms companion of thy care.

  Thou to the court ascend: and to the shores

  (When night advances) bear the naval stores;

  Bread, that decaying man with strength supplies,

  And generous wine, which thoughtful sorrow flies.

  Meanwhile the mariners, by my command,

  Shall speed aboard, a valiant chosen band.

  Wide o'er the bay, by vessel vessel rides;

  The best I choose to waft then o'er the tides."

  She spoke: to his high dome the prince returns,

  And, as he moves, with royal anguish mourns.

  'Twas riot all, among the lawless train;

  Boar bled by boar, and goat by goat lay slain.

  Arrived, his hand the gay Antinous press'd,

  And thus deriding, with a smile address'd:

  "Grieve not, O daring prince! that noble heart;

  Ill suits gay youth the stern heroic part.

  Indulge the genial hour, unbend thy soul,

  Leave thought to age, and drain the flowing bowl.

  Studious to ease thy grief, our care provides

  The bark, to waft thee o'er the swelling tides."

  "Is this (returns the prince) for mirth a time?

  When lawless gluttons riot, mirth's a crime;

  The luscious wines, dishonour'd, lose their taste;

  The song is noise, and impious is the feast.

  Suffice it to have spent with swift decay

  The wealth of kings, and made my youth a prey.

  But now the wise instructions of the sage,

  And manly thoughts inspired by manly age,

  Teach me to seek redress for all my woe,

  Here, or in Pyle — in Pyle, or here, your foe.

  Deny your vessels, ye deny in vain:

  A private voyager I pass the main.

  Free breathe the winds, and free the billows flow;

  And where on earth I live, I live your foe."

  He spoke and frown'd, nor longer deign'd to stay,

  Sternly his hand withdrew, and strode away.

  Meantime, o'er all the dome, they quaff, they feast,

  Derisive taunts were spread from guest to guest,

  And each in jovial mood his mate address'd:

  "Tremble ye not, O friends, and coward fly,

  Doom'd by the stern Telemachus to die?

  To Pyle or Sparta to demand supplies,

  Big with revenge, the mighty warrior flies;

  Or comes from Ephyre with poisons fraught,

  And kills us all in one tremendous draught!"

  "Or who can say (his gamesome mate replies)

  But, while the danger of the deeps he tries

  He, like his sire, may sink deprived of breath,

  And punish us unkindly by his death?

  What mighty labours would he then create,

  To seize his treasures, and divide his state,

  The royal palace to the queen convey,

  Or him she blesses in the bridal day!"

  Meantime the lofty rooms the prince surveys,

  Where lay the treasures of the Ithacian race:

  Here ruddy brass and gold refulgent blazed;

  There polished chests embroider'd vestures graced;

  Here jars of oil breathed forth a rich perfume;

  There casks of wine in rows adorn'd the dome

  (Pure flavorous wine, by gods in bounty given

  And worthy to exalt the feasts of heaven).

 
Untouch'd they stood, till, his long labours o'er,

  The great Ulysses reach'd his native shore.

  A double strength of bars secured the gates;

  Fast by the door the wise Euryclea waits;

  Euryclea, who great Ops! thy lineage shared,

  And watch'd all night, all day, a faithful guard.

  To whom the prince: "O thou whose guardian care

  Nursed the most wretched king that breathes the air;

  Untouch'd and sacred may these vessels stand,

  Till great Ulysses views his native land.

  But by thy care twelve urns of wine be fill'd;

  Next these in worth, and firm these urns be seal'd;

  And twice ten measures of the choicest flour

  Prepared, are yet descends the evening hour.

  For when the favouring shades of night arise,

  And peaceful slumbers close my mother's eyes,

  Me from our coast shall spreading sails convey,

  To seek Ulysses through the watery way."

  While yet he spoke, she fill'd the walls with cries,

  And tears ran trickling from her aged eyes.

  "O whither, whither flies my son (she cried)

  To realms; that rocks and roaring seas divide?

  In foreign lands thy father's days decay'd.

  And foreign lands contain the mighty dead.

  The watery way ill-fated if thou try,

  All, all must perish, and by fraud you die!

  Then stay, my, child! storms beat, and rolls the main,

  Oh, beat those storms, and roll the seas in vain!"

  "Far hence (replied the prince) thy fears be driven:

  Heaven calls me forth; these counsels are of Heaven.

  But, by the powers that hate the perjured, swear,

  To keep my voyage from the royal ear,

  Nor uncompell'd the dangerous truth betray,

  Till twice six times descends the lamp of day,

  Lest the sad tale a mother's life impair,

  And grief destroy what time awhile would spare."

  Thus he. The matron with uplifted eyes

  Attests the all-seeing sovereign of the skies.

  Then studious she prepares the choicest flour,

  The strength of wheat and wines an ample store.

  While to the rival train the prince returns,

  The martial goddess with impatience burns;

  Like thee, Telemachus, in voice and size,

  With speed divine from street to street she flies,

  She bids the mariners prepared to stand,

  When night descends, embodied on the strand.

  Then to Noemon swift she runs, she flies,

  And asks a bark: the chief a bark supplies.

  And now, declining with his sloping wheels,

  Down sunk the sun behind the western hills

  The goddess shoved the vessel from the shores,

  And stow'd within its womb the naval stores,

  Full in the openings of the spacious main

  It rides; and now descends the sailor-train,

  Next, to the court, impatient of delay.

  With rapid step the goddess urged her way;

  There every eye with slumberous chains she bound,

  And dash'd the flowing goblet to the ground.

  Drowsy they rose, with heavy fumes oppress'd,

  Reel'd from the palace, and retired to rest.

  Then thus, in Mentor's reverend form array'd,

  Spoke to Telemachus the martial maid.

  "Lo! on the seas, prepared the vessel stands,

  The impatient mariner thy speed demands."

  Swift as she spoke, with rapid pace she leads;

  The footsteps of the deity he treads.

  Swift to the shore they move along the strand;

  The ready vessel rides, the sailors ready stand.

  He bids them bring their stores; the attending train

  Load the tall bark, and launch into the main,

  The prince and goddess to the stern ascend;

  To the strong stroke at once the rowers bend.

  Full from the west she bids fresh breezes blow;

  The sable billows foam and roar below.

  The chief his orders gives; the obedient band

  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.

  High o'er the roaring waves the spreading sails

  Bow the tall mast, and swell before the gales;

  The crooked keel the parting surge divides,

  And to the stern retreating roll the tides.

  And now they ship their oars, and crown with wine

  The holy goblet to the powers divine:

  Imploring all the gods that reign above,

  But chief the blue-eyed progeny of Jove.

  Thus all the night they stem the liquid way,

  And end their voyage with the morning ray.

  BOOK III

  ARGUMENT

  THE INTERVIEW OF TELEMACHUS AND NESTOR.

  Telemachus, guided by Pallas in the shape of Mentor, arrives in the morning at Pylos, where Nestor and his sons are sacrificing on the sea-shore to Neptune. Telemachus declares the occasion of his coming: and Nestor relates what passed in their return from Troy, how their fleets were separated, and he never since heard of Ulysses. They discourse concerning the death of Agamemnon, the revenge of Orestes, and the injuries of the suitors. Nestor advises him to go to Sparta, and inquire further of Menelaus. The sacrifice ending with the night, Minerva vanishes from them in the form of an eagle: Telemachus is lodged in the palace. The next morning they sacrifice a bullock to Minerva; and Telemachus proceeds on his journey to Sparta, attended by Pisistratus.

  The scene lies on the sea-shore of Pylos.

  The sacred sun, above the waters raised,

  Through heaven's eternal brazen portals blazed;

  And wide o'er earth diffused his cheering ray,

  To gods and men to give the golden day.

  Now on the coast of Pyle the vessel falls,

  Before old Neleus' venerable walls.

  There suppliant to the monarch of the flood,

  At nine green theatres the Pylians stood,

  Each held five hundred (a deputed train),

  At each, nine oxen on the sand lay slain.

  They taste the entrails, and the altars load

  With smoking thighs, an offering to the god.

  Full for the port the Ithacensians stand,

  And furl their sails, and issue on the land.

  Telemachus already press'd the shore;

  Not first, the power of wisdom march'd before,

  And ere the sacrificing throng he join'd,

  Admonish'd thus his well-attending mind:

  "Proceed, my son! this youthful shame expel;

  An honest business never blush to tell.

  To learn what fates thy wretched sire detain,

  We pass'd the wide immeasurable main.

  Meet then the senior far renown'd for sense

  With reverend awe, but decent confidence:

  Urge him with truth to frame his fair replies;

  And sure he will; for wisdom never lies."

  "Oh tell me, Mentor! tell me, faithful guide

  (The youth with prudent modesty replied),

  How shall I meet, or how accost the sage,

  Unskill'd in speech, nor yet mature of age?

  Awful th'approach, and hard the task appears,

  To question wisely men of riper years."

  To whom the martial goddess thus rejoin'd:

  "Search, for some thoughts, thy own suggesting mind;

  And others, dictated by heavenly power,

  Shall rise spontaneous in the needful hour.

  For nought unprosperous shall thy ways attend,

  Born with good omens, and with heaven thy friend."

>   She spoke, and led the way with swiftest speed;

  As swift, the youth pursued the way she led;

  and join'd the band before the sacred fire,

  Where sate, encompass'd with his sons, the sire.

  The youth of Pylos, some on pointed wood

  Transfix'd the fragments, some prepared the food:

  In friendly throngs they gather to embrace

  Their unknown guests, and at the banquet place,

  Pisistratus was first to grasp their hands,

  And spread soft hides upon the yellow sands;

  Along the shore the illustrious pair he led,

  Where Nestor sate with the youthful Thrasymed,

  To each a portion of the feast he bore,

  And held the golden goblet foaming o'er;

  Then first approaching to the elder guest,

  The latent goddess in these words address'd:

  "Whoe'er thou art, from fortune brings to keep

  These rites of Neptune, monarch of the deep,

  Thee first it fits, O stranger! to prepare

  The due libation and the solemn prayer;

  Then give thy friend to shed the sacred wine;

  Though much thy younger, and his years like mine,

  He too, I deem, implores the power divine;

  For all mankind alike require their grace,

  All born to want; a miserable race!"

  He spake, and to her hand preferr'd the bowl;

  A secret pleasure touch'd Athena's soul,

  To see the preference due to sacred age

  Regarded ever by the just and sage.

  Of Ocean's king she then implores the grace.

  "O thou! whose arms this ample globe embrace,

  Fulfil our wish, and let thy glory shine

  On Nestor first, and Nestor's royal line;

  Next grant the Pylian states their just desires,

  Pleased with their hecatomb's ascending fires;

  Last, deign Telemachus and me to bless,

  And crown our voyage with desired success."

  Thus she: and having paid the rite divine,

  Gave to Ulysses' son the rosy wine.

  Suppliant he pray'd. And now the victims dress'd

  They draw, divide, and celebrate the feast.

  The banquet done, the narrative old man,

  Thus mild, the pleasing conference began:

  "Now gentle guests! the genial banquet o'er,

  It fits to ask ye, what your native shore,

  And whence your race? on what adventure say,

  Thus far you wander through the watery way?

  Relate if business, or the thirst of gain,

  Engage your journey o'er the pathless main

  Where savage pirates seek through seas unknown

  The lives of others, venturous of their own."

  Urged by the precepts by the goddess given,