Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  Meet not by contribution to regale,

  With such brutality and din they hold

  Their riotous banquet! a wise man and good

  Arriving, now, among them, at the sight

  Of such enormities would much be wroth.

  To whom replied Telemachus discrete. 290

  Since, stranger! thou hast ask'd, learn also this.

  While yet Ulysses, with his people dwelt,

  His presence warranted the hope that here

  Virtue should dwell and opulence; but heav'n

  Hath cast for us, at length, a diff'rent lot,

  And he is lost, as never man before.

  For I should less lament even his death,

  Had he among his friends at Ilium fall'n,

  Or in the arms of his companions died,

  Troy's siege accomplish'd. Then his tomb the Greeks 300

  Of ev'ry tribe had built, and for his son,

  He had immortal glory atchieved; but now,

  By harpies torn inglorious, beyond reach

  Of eye or ear he lies; and hath to me

  Grief only, and unceasing sighs bequeath'd.

  Nor mourn I for his sake alone; the Gods

  Have plann'd for me still many a woe beside;

  For all the rulers of the neighbour isles,

  Samos, Dulichium, and the forest-crown'd

  Zacynthus, others also, rulers here 310

  In craggy Ithaca, my mother seek

  In marriage, and my household stores consume.

  But neither she those nuptial rites abhorr'd,

  Refuses absolute, nor yet consents

  To end them; they my patrimony waste

  Meantime, and will not long spare even me.

  To whom, with deep commiseration pang'd,

  Pallas replied. Alas! great need hast thou

  Of thy long absent father to avenge

  These num'rous wrongs; for could he now appear 320

  There, at yon portal, arm'd with helmet, shield,

  And grasping his two spears, such as when first

  I saw him drinking joyous at our board,

  From Ilus son of Mermeris, who dwelt

  In distant Ephyre, just then return'd,

  (For thither also had Ulysses gone

  In his swift bark, seeking some pois'nous drug

  Wherewith to taint his brazen arrows keen,

  Which drug through fear of the eternal Gods

  Ilus refused him, and my father free 330

  Gave to him, for he loved him past belief)

  Could now, Ulysses, clad in arms as then,

  Mix with these suitors, short his date of life

  To each, and bitter should his nuptials prove.

  But these events, whether he shall return

  To take just vengeance under his own roof,

  Or whether not, lie all in the Gods lap.

  Meantime I counsel thee, thyself to think

  By what means likeliest thou shalt expel

  These from thy doors. Now mark me: close attend. 340

  To-morrow, summoning the Grecian Chiefs

  To council, speak to them, and call the Gods

  To witness that solemnity. Bid go

  The suitors hence, each to his own abode.

  Thy mother--if her purpose be resolved

  On marriage, let her to the house return

  Of her own potent father, who, himself,

  Shall furnish forth her matrimonial rites,

  And ample dow'r, such as it well becomes

  A darling daughter to receive, bestow. 350

  But hear me now; thyself I thus advise.

  The prime of all thy ships preparing, mann'd

  With twenty rowers, voyage hence to seek

  Intelligence of thy long-absent Sire.

  Some mortal may inform thee, or a word,

  Perchance, by Jove directed (safest source

  Of notice to mankind) may reach thine ear.

  First voyaging to Pylus, there enquire

  Of noble Nestor; thence to Sparta tend,

  To question Menelaus amber-hair'd, 360

  Latest arrived of all the host of Greece.

  There should'st thou learn that still thy father lives,

  And hope of his return, although

  Distress'd, thou wilt be patient yet a year.

  But should'st thou there hear tidings that he breathes

  No longer, to thy native isle return'd,

  First heap his tomb; then with such pomp perform

  His funeral rites as his great name demands,

  And make thy mother's spousals, next, thy care.

  These duties satisfied, delib'rate last 370

  Whether thou shalt these troublers of thy house

  By stratagem, or by assault, destroy.

  For thou art now no child, nor longer may'st

  Sport like one. Hast thou not the proud report

  Heard, how Orestes hath renown acquired

  With all mankind, his father's murtherer

  Ægisthus slaying, the deceiver base

  Who slaughter'd Agamemnon? Oh my friend!

  (For with delight thy vig'rous growth I view,

  And just proportion) be thou also bold, 380

  And merit praise from ages yet to come.

  But I will to my vessel now repair,

  And to my mariners, whom, absent long,

  I may perchance have troubled. Weigh thou well

  My counsel; let not my advice be lost.

  To whom Telemachus discrete replied.

  Stranger! thy words bespeak thee much my friend,

  Who, as a father teaches his own son,

  Hast taught me, and I never will forget.

  But, though in haste thy voyage to pursue, 390

  Yet stay, that in the bath refreshing first

  Thy limbs now weary, thou may'st sprightlier seek

  Thy gallant bark, charged with some noble gift

  Of finish'd workmanship, which thou shalt keep

  As my memorial ever; such a boon

  As men confer on guests whom much they love.

  Then Pallas thus, Goddess cærulean-eyed.

  Retard me not, for go I must; the gift

  Which liberal thou desirest to bestow,

  Give me at my return, that I may bear 400

  The treasure home; and, in exchange, thyself

  Expect some gift equivalent from me.

  She spake, and as with eagle-wings upborne,

  Vanish'd incontinent, but him inspired

  With daring fortitude, and on his heart

  Dearer remembrance of his Sire impress'd

  Than ever. Conscious of the wond'rous change,

  Amazed he stood, and, in his secret thought

  Revolving all, believed his guest a God.

  The youthful Hero to the suitors then 410

  Repair'd; they silent, listen'd to the song

  Of the illustrious Bard: he the return

  Deplorable of the Achaian host

  From Ilium by command of Pallas, sang.

  Penelope, Icarius' daughter, mark'd

  Meantime the song celestial, where she sat

  In the superior palace; down she came,

  By all the num'rous steps of her abode;

  Not sole, for two fair handmaids follow'd her.

  She then, divinest of her sex, arrived 420

  In presence of that lawless throng, beneath

  The portal of her stately mansion stood,

  Between her maidens, with her lucid veil

  Her lovely features mantling. There, profuse

  She wept, and thus the sacred bard bespake.

  Phemius! for many a sorrow-soothing strain

  Thou know'st beside, such as exploits record

  Of Gods and men, the poet's frequent theme;

  Give them of those a song, and let themselves

  Their wine drink noiseless; but this mournful strain 430

  Break off, unfriendly t
o my bosom's peace,

  And which of all hearts nearest touches mine,

  With such regret my dearest Lord I mourn,

  Rememb'ring still an husband praised from side

  To side, and in the very heart of Greece.

  Then answer thus Telemachus return'd.

  My mother! wherefore should it give thee pain

  If the delightful bard that theme pursue

  To which he feels his mind impell'd? the bard

  Blame not, but rather Jove, who, as he wills, 440

  Materials for poetic art supplies.

  No fault is his, if the disastrous fate

  He sing of the Achaians, for the song

  Wins ever from the hearers most applause

  That has been least in use. Of all who fought

  At Troy, Ulysses hath not lost, alone,

  His day of glad return; but many a Chief

  Hath perish'd also. Seek thou then again

  Thy own apartment, spindle ply and loom,

  And task thy maidens; management belongs 450

  To men of joys convivial, and of men

  Especially to me, chief ruler here.

  She heard astonish'd; and the prudent speech

  Reposing of her son deep in her heart,

  Again with her attendant maidens sought

  Her upper chamber. There arrived, she wept

  Her lost Ulysses, till Minerva bathed

  Her weary lids in dewy sleep profound.

  Then echoed through the palace dark-bedimm'd

  With evening shades the suitors boist'rous roar, 460

  For each the royal bed burn'd to partake,

  Whom thus Telemachus discrete address'd.

  All ye my mother's suitors, though addict

  To contumacious wrangling fierce, suspend

  Your clamour, for a course to me it seems

  More decent far, when such a bard as this,

  Godlike, for sweetness, sings, to hear his song.

  To-morrow meet we in full council all,

  That I may plainly warn you to depart

  From this our mansion. Seek ye where ye may 470

  Your feasts; consume your own; alternate feed

  Each at the other's cost; but if it seem

  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, for retribution of the wrong,

  Shall doom you, where ye have intruded, there

  To bleed, and of your blood ask no account. 480

  He ended, and each gnaw'd his lip, aghast

  At his undaunted hardiness of speech.

  Then thus Antinoüs spake, Eupithes' son.

  Telemachus! the Gods, methinks, themselves

  Teach thee sublimity, and to pronounce

  Thy matter fearless. Ah forbid it, Jove!

  That one so eloquent should with the weight

  Of kingly cares in Ithaca be charged,

  A realm, by claim hereditary, thine.

  Then prudent thus Telemachus replied. 490

  Although my speech Antinoüs may, perchance,

  Provoke thee, know that I am not averse

  From kingly cares, if Jove appoint me such.

  Seems it to thee a burthen to be fear'd

  By men above all others? trust me, no,

  There is no ill in royalty; the man

  So station'd, waits not long ere he obtain

  Riches and honour. But I grant that Kings

  Of the Achaians may no few be found

  In sea-girt Ithaca both young and old, 500

  Of whom since great Ulysses is no more,

  Reign whoso may; but King, myself, I am

  In my own house, and over all my own

  Domestics, by Ulysses gained for me.

  To whom Eurymachus replied, the son

  Of Polybus. What Grecian Chief shall reign

  In sea-girt Ithaca, must be referr'd

  To the Gods' will, Telemachus! meantime

  Thou hast unquestionable right to keep

  Thy own, and to command in thy own house. 510

  May never that man on her shores arrive,

  While an inhabitant shall yet be left

  In Ithaca, who shall by violence wrest

  Thine from thee. But permit me, noble Sir!

  To ask thee of thy guest. Whence came the man?

  What country claims him? Where are to be found

  His kindred and his patrimonial fields?

  Brings he glad tidings of thy Sire's approach

  Homeward? or came he to receive a debt

  Due to himself? How swift he disappear'd! 520

  Nor opportunity to know him gave

  To those who wish'd it; for his face and air

  Him speak not of Plebeian birth obscure.

  Whom answered thus Telemachus discrete.

  Eurymachus! my father comes no more.

  I can no longer now tidings believe,

  If such arrive; nor he'd I more the song

  Of sooth-sayers whom my mother may consult.

  But this my guest hath known in other days

  My father, and he came from Taphos, son 530

  Of brave Anchialus, Mentes by name,

  And Chief of the sea-practis'd Taphian race.

  So spake Telemachus, but in his heart

  Knew well his guest a Goddess from the skies.

  Then they to dance and heart-enlivening song

  Turn'd joyous, waiting the approach of eve,

  And dusky evening found them joyous still.

  Then each, to his own house retiring, sought

  Needful repose. Meantime Telemachus

  To his own lofty chamber, built in view 540

  Of the wide hall, retired; but with a heart

  In various musings occupied intense.

  Sage Euryclea, bearing in each hand

  A torch, preceded him; her sire was Ops,

  Pisenor's son, and, in her early prime,

  At his own cost Laertes made her his,

  Paying with twenty beeves her purchase-price,

  Nor in less honour than his spotless wife

  He held her ever, but his consort's wrath

  Fearing, at no time call'd her to his bed. 550

  She bore the torches, and with truer heart

  Loved him than any of the female train,

  For she had nurs'd him in his infant years.

  He open'd his broad chamber-valves, and sat

  On his couch-side: then putting off his vest

  Of softest texture, placed it in the hands

  Of the attendant dame discrete, who first

  Folding it with exactest care, beside

  His bed suspended it, and, going forth,

  Drew by its silver ring the portal close, 560

  And fasten'd it with bolt and brace secure.

  There lay Telemachus, on finest wool

  Reposed, contemplating all night his course

  Prescribed by Pallas to the Pylian shore.

  FOOTNOTES:

  We are told that Homer was under obligations to Mentes, who had

  frequently given him a passage in his ship to different countries which

  he wished to see, for which reason he has here immortalised him.

  Milton uses the word--Sewers and seneschals.

  Ἔρανος, a convivial meeting, at which every man paid his proportion,

  at least contributed something; but it seems to have been a meeting at

  which strict sobriety was observed, else Pallas would not have inferred

  from the noise and riot of this, that it was not such a one.

  Οσσα--a word spoken, with respect to the speaker, casually; but with

  reference to the inquirer supposed to be sent for his information by the

  especi
al appointment and providential favour of the Gods.

  There is in the Original an evident stress laid on the word Νήποινοι,

  which is used in both places. It was a sort of Lex Talionis which

  Telemachus hoped might be put in force against them; and that Jove would

  demand no satisfaction for the lives of those who made him none for the

  waste of his property.

  BOOK II

  ARGUMENT

  Telemachus having convened an assembly of the Greecians, publicly calls

  on the Suitors to relinquish the house of Ulysses. During the continuance

  of the Council he has much to suffer from the petulance of the Suitors,

  from whom, having informed them of his design to undertake a voyage in

  hope to obtain news of Ulysses, he asks a ship, with all things necessary

  for the purpose. He is refused, but is afterwards furnished with what he

  wants by Minerva, in the form of Mentor. He embarks in the evening

  without the privity of his mother, and the Goddess sails with him.

  Aurora, rosy daughter of the dawn,

  Now ting'd the East, when habited again,

  Uprose Ulysses' offspring from his bed.

  Athwart his back his faulchion keen he flung,

  His sandals bound to his unsullied feet,

  And, godlike, issued from his chamber-door.

  At once the clear-voic'd heralds he enjoin'd

  To call the Greeks to council; they aloud

  Gave forth the summons, and the throng began.

  When all were gather'd, and the assembly full, 10

  Himself, his hand arm'd with a brazen spear,

  Went also; nor alone he went; his hounds

  Fleet-footed follow'd him, a faithful pair.

  O'er all his form Minerva largely shed

  Majestic grace divine, and, as he went,

  The whole admiring concourse gaz'd on him,

  The seniors gave him place, and down he sat

  On his paternal Throne. Then grave arose

  The Hero, old Ægyptius; bow'd with age

  Was he, and by experience deep-inform'd. 20

  His son had with Ulysses, godlike Chief,

  On board his fleet to steed-fam'd Ilium gone,

  The warrior Antiphus, whom in his cave

  The savage Cyclops slew, and on his flesh

  At ev'ning made obscene his last regale.

  Three sons he had beside, a suitor one,

  Eurynomus; the other two, employ

  Found constant managing their Sire's concerns.

  Yet he forgat not, father as he was

  Of these, his absent eldest, whom he mourn'd 30

  Ceaseless, and thus his speech, weeping, began.