Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

Loud-shouting flew on him, and in our arms

  Constrain'd him fast; nor the sea-prophet old

  Call'd not incontinent his shifts to mind.

  First he became a long-maned lion grim,

  Then dragon, panther then, a savage boar,

  A limpid stream, and an o'ershadowing tree.

  We persevering held him, till at length

  The Antient of the Deep, skill'd as he is 560

  In wiles, yet weary, question'd me, and said.

  Oh Atreus' son, by what confed'rate God

  Instructed liest thou in wait for me,

  To seize and hold me? what is thy desire?

  So He; to whom thus answer I return'd.

  Old Seer! thou know'st; why, fraudful, should'st thou ask?

  It is because I have been prison'd long

  Within this isle, whence I have sought in vain

  Deliv'rance, till my wonted courage fails.

  Yet say (for the Immortals all things know) 570

  What God detains me, and my course forbids

  Hence to my country o'er the fishy Deep?

  So I; when thus the old one of the waves.

  But thy plain duty was to have adored

  Jove, first, in sacrifice, and all the Gods,

  That then embarking, by propitious gales

  Impell'd, thou might'st have reach'd thy country soon.

  For thou art doom'd ne'er to behold again

  Thy friends, thy palace, or thy native shores,

  Till thou have seen once more the hallow'd flood 580

  Of Ægypt, and with hecatombs adored

  Devout, the deathless tenants of the skies.

  Then will they speed thee whither thou desir'st.

  He ended, and my heart broke at his words,

  Which bade me pass again the gloomy gulph

  To Ægypt; tedious course, and hard to atchieve!

  Yet, though in sorrow whelm'd, I thus replied.

  Old prophet! I will all thy will perform.

  But tell me, and the truth simply reveal;

  Have the Achaians with their ships arrived 590

  All safe, whom Nestor left and I, at Troy?

  Or of the Chiefs have any in their barks,

  Or in their followers' arms found a dire death

  Unlook'd for, since that city's siege we closed?

  I spake, when answer thus the God return'd.

  Atrides, why these questions? Need is none

  That thou should'st all my secrets learn, which once

  Reveal'd, thou would'st not long dry-eyed remain.

  Of those no few have died, and many live;

  But leaders, two alone, in their return 600

  Have died (thou also hast had war to wage)

  And one, still living, roams the boundless sea.

  Ajax, surrounded by his galleys, died.

  Him Neptune, first, against the bulky rocks

  The Gyræ drove, but saved him from the Deep;

  Nor had he perish'd, hated as he was

  By Pallas, but for his own impious boast

  In frenzy utter'd that he would escape

  The billows, even in the Gods' despight.

  Neptune that speech vain-glorious hearing, grasp'd 610

  His trident, and the huge Gyræan rock

  Smiting indignant, dash'd it half away;

  Part stood, and part, on which the boaster sat

  When, first, the brainsick fury seiz'd him, fell,

  Bearing him with it down into the gulphs

  Of Ocean, where he drank the brine, and died.

  But thy own brother in his barks escaped

  That fate, by Juno saved; yet when, at length,

  He should have gain'd Malea's craggy shore,

  Then, by a sudden tempest caught, he flew 620

  With many a groan far o'er the fishy Deep

  To the land's utmost point, where once his home

  Thyestes had, but where Thyestes' son

  Dwelt then, Ægisthus. Easy lay his course

  And open thence, and, as it pleased the Gods,

  The shifted wind soon bore them to their home.

  He, high in exultation, trod the shore

  That gave him birth, kiss'd it, and, at the sight,

  The welcome sight of Greece, shed many a tear.

  Yet not unseen he landed; for a spy, 630

  One whom the shrewd Ægisthus had seduced

  By promise of two golden talents, mark'd

  His coming from a rock where he had watch'd

  The year complete, lest, passing unperceived,

  The King should reassert his right in arms.

  Swift flew the spy with tidings to this Lord,

  And He, incontinent, this project framed

  Insidious. Twenty men, the boldest hearts

  Of all the people, from the rest he chose,

  Whom he in ambush placed, and others charged 640

  Diligent to prepare the festal board.

  With horses, then, and chariots forth he drove

  Full-fraught with mischief, and conducting home

  The unsuspicious King, amid the feast

  Slew him, as at his crib men slay an ox.

  Nor of thy brother's train, nor of his train

  Who slew thy brother, one survived, but all,

  Welt'ring in blood together, there expired.

  He ended, and his words beat on my heart

  As they would break it. On the sands I sat 650

  Weeping, nor life nor light desiring more.

  But when I had in dust roll'd me, and wept

  To full satiety, mine ear again

  The oracle of Ocean thus address'd.

  Sit not, O son of Atreus! weeping here

  Longer, for remedy can none be found;

  But quick arising, trial make, how best

  Thou shalt, and soonest, reach thy home again.

  For either him still living thou shalt find,

  Or ere thou come, Orestes shall have slain 660

  The traytor, and thine eyes shall see his tomb.

  He ceas'd, and I, afflicted as I was,

  Yet felt my spirit at that word refresh'd,

  And in wing'd accents answer thus return'd.

  Of these I am inform'd; but name the third

  Who, dead or living, on the boundless Deep

  Is still detain'd; I dread, yet wish to hear.

  So I; to whom thus Proteus in return.

  Laertes' son, the Lord of Ithaca--

  Him in an island weeping I beheld, 670

  Guest of the nymph Calypso, by constraint

  Her guest, and from his native land withheld

  By sad necessity; for ships well-oar'd,

  Or faithful followers hath he none, whose aid

  Might speed him safely o'er the spacious flood.

  But, Menelaus dear to Jove! thy fate

  Ordains not thee the stroke of death to meet

  In steed-fam'd Argos, but far hence the Gods

  Will send thee to Elysium, and the earth's

  Extremest bounds; (there Rhadamanthus dwells, 680

  The golden-hair'd, and there the human kind

  Enjoy the easiest life; no snow is there,

  No biting winter, and no drenching show'r,

  But zephyr always gently from the sea

  Breathes on them to refresh the happy race)

  For that fair Helen is by nuptial bands

  Thy own, and thou art son-in-law of Jove.

  So saying, he plunged into the billowy waste,

  I then, with my brave comrades to the fleet

  Return'd, deep-musing as I went, and sad. 690

  No sooner had I reach'd my ship beside

  The ocean, and we all had supp'd, than night

  From heav'n fell on us, and, at ease reposed

  Along the margin of the sea, we slept.

  But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,

  Look'd rosy forth, drawing our galleys down

&nb
sp; Into the sacred Deep, we rear'd again

  The mast, unfurl'd the sail, and to our seats

  On board returning, thresh'd the foamy flood.

  Once more, at length, within the hallow'd stream 700

  Of Ægypt mooring, on the shore I slew

  Whole hecatombs, and (the displeasure thus

  Of the immortal Gods appeased) I reared

  To Agamemnon's never-dying fame

  A tomb, and finishing it, sail'd again

  With such a gale from heaven vouchsafed, as sent

  My ships swift-scudding to the shores of Greece.

  But come--eleven days wait here, or twelve

  A guest with me, when I will send thee hence

  Nobly, and honour'd with illustrious gifts, 710

  With polish'd chariot, with three princely steeds,

  And with a gorgeous cup, that to the Gods

  Libation pouring ever while thou liv'st

  From that same cup, thou may'st remember me.

  Him, prudent, then answer'd Telemachus.

  Atrides, seek not to detain me here

  Long time; for though contented I could sit

  The year beside thee, nor regret my home

  Or parents, (so delightful thy discourse

  Sounds in my ear) yet, even now, I know, 720

  That my attendants to the Pylian shore

  Wish my return, whom thou thus long detain'st.

  What boon soe'er thou giv'st me, be it such

  As I may treasur'd keep; but horses none

  Take I to Ithaca; them rather far

  Keep thou, for thy own glory. Thou art Lord

  Of an extended plain, where copious springs

  The lotus, herbage of all savours, wheat,

  Pulse, and white barley of luxuriant growth.

  But Ithaca no level champaign owns, 730

  A nursery of goats, and yet a land

  Fairer than even pastures to the eye.

  No sea-encircled isle of ours affords

  Smooth course commodious and expanse of meads,

  But my own Ithaca transcends them all!

  He said; the Hero Menelaus smiled,

  And stroaking tenderly his cheek, replied.

  Dear youth! thy speech proclaims thy noble blood.

  I can with ease supply thee from within

  With what shall suit thee better, and the gift 740

  Of all that I possess which most excels

  In beauty, and the noblest shall be thine.

  I give thee, wrought elaborate, a cup

  Itself all silver, bound with lip of gold.

  It is the work of Vulcan, which to me

  The Hero Phædimus imparted, King

  Of the Sidonians, when on my return

  His house received me. That shall be thy own.

  Thus they conferr'd; and now the busy train

  Of menials culinary, at the gate 750

  Enter'd of Menelaus, Chief renown'd;

  They brought him sheep, with heart-ennobling wine,

  While all their wives, their brows with frontlets bound,

  Came charg'd with bread. Thus busy they prepared

  A banquet in the mansion of the King.

  Meantime, before Ulysses' palace gate

  The suitors sported with the quoit and spear

  On the smooth area, customary scene

  Of all their strife and angry clamour loud.

  There sat Antinoüs, and the godlike youth 760

  Eurymachus, superior to the rest

  And Chiefs among them, to whom Phronius' son

  Noëmon drawing nigh, with anxious mien

  Question'd Antinoüs, and thus began.

  Know we, Antinoüs! or know we not,

  When to expect Telemachus at home

  Again from Pylus? in my ship he went,

  Which now I need, that I may cross the sea

  To Elis, on whose spacious plain I feed

  Twelve mares, each suckling a mule-colt as yet 770

  Unbroken, but of which I purpose one

  To ferry thence, and break him into use.

  He spake, whom they astonish'd heard; for him

  They deem'd not to Nelëian Pylus gone,

  But haply into his own fields, his flocks

  To visit, or the steward of his swine.

  Then thus, Eupithes' son, Antinoüs, spake.

  Say true. When sail'd he forth? of all our youth,

  Whom chose he for his followers? his own train

  Of slaves and hirelings? hath he pow'r to effect 780

  This also? Tell me too, for I would learn--

  Took he perforce thy sable bark away,

  Or gav'st it to him at his first demand?

  To whom Noëmon, Phronius' son, replied.

  I gave it voluntary; what could'st thou,

  Should such a prince petition for thy bark

  In such distress? Hard were it to refuse.

  Brave youths (our bravest youths except yourselves)

  Attend him forth; and with them I observed

  Mentor embarking, ruler o'er them all, 790

  Or, if not him, a God; for such he seem'd.

  But this much moves my wonder. Yester-morn

  I saw, at day-break, noble Mentor here,

  Whom shipp'd for Pylus I had seen before.

  He ceas'd; and to his father's house return'd;

  They, hearing, sat aghast. Their games meantime

  Finish'd, the suitors on their seats reposed,

  To whom Eupithes' son, Antinoüs, next,

  Much troubled spake; a black storm overcharged

  His bosom, and his vivid eyes flash'd fire. 800

  Ye Gods, a proud exploit is here atchieved,

  This voyage of Telemachus, by us

  Pronounced impracticable; yet the boy

  In downright opposition to us all,

  Hath headlong launched a ship, and, with a band

  Selected from our bravest youth, is gone.

  He soon will prove more mischievous, whose pow'r

  Jove wither, ere we suffer its effects!

  But give me a swift bark with twenty rowers,

  That, watching his return within the streights 810

  Of rocky Samos and of Ithaca,

  I may surprise him; so shall he have sail'd

  To seek his Sire, fatally for himself.

  He ceased and loud applause heard in reply,

  With warm encouragement. Then, rising all,

  Into Ulysses' house at once they throng'd.

  Nor was Penelope left uninformed

  Long time of their clandestine plottings deep,

  For herald Medon told her all, whose ear

  Their councils caught while in the outer-court 820

  He stood, and they that project framed within.

  Swift to Penelope the tale he bore,

  Who as he pass'd the gate, him thus address'd.

  For what cause, herald! have the suitors sent

  Thee foremost? Wou'd they that my maidens lay

  Their tasks aside, and dress the board for them?

  Here end their wooing! may they hence depart

  Never, and may the banquet now prepared,

  This banquet prove your last! who in such throngs

  Here meeting, waste the patrimony fair 830

  Of brave Telemachus; ye never, sure,

  When children, heard how gracious and how good

  Ulysses dwelt among your parents, none

  Of all his people, or in word or deed

  Injuring, as great princes oft are wont,

  By favour influenc'd now, now by disgust.

  He no man wrong'd at any time; but plain

  Your wicked purpose in your deeds appears,

  Who sense have none of benefits conferr'd.

  Then Medon answer'd thus, prudent, return'd. 840

  Oh Queen! may the Gods grant this prove the worst.

  But greater far and heavier ills than this

&nbs
p; The suitors plan, whose counsels Jove confound!

  Their base desire and purpose are to slay

  Telemachus on his return; for he,

  To gather tidings of his Sire is gone

  To Pylus, or to Sparta's land divine.

  He said; and where she stood, her trembling knees

  Fail'd under her, and all her spirits went.

  Speechless she long remain'd, tears filled her eyes, 850

  And inarticulate in its passage died

  Her utt'rance, till at last with pain she spake.

  Herald! why went my son? he hath no need

  On board swift ships to ride, which are to man

  His steeds that bear him over seas remote.

  Went he, that, with himself, his very name

  Might perish from among mankind for ever?

  Then answer, thus, Medon the wise return'd.

  I know not whether him some God impell'd

  Or his own heart to Pylus, there to hear 860

  News of his Sire's return, or by what fate

  At least he died, if he return no more.

  He said, and traversing Ulysses' courts,

  Departed; she with heart consuming woe

  O'erwhelm'd, no longer could endure to take

  Repose on any of her num'rous seats,

  But on the threshold of her chamber-door

  Lamenting sat, while all her female train

  Around her moan'd, the antient and the young,

  Whom, sobbing, thus Penelope bespake. 870

  Hear me, ye maidens! for of women born

  Coeval with me, none hath e'er received

  Such plenteous sorrow from the Gods as I,

  Who first my noble husband lost, endued

  With courage lion-like, of all the Greeks

  The Chief with ev'ry virtue most adorn'd,

  A prince all-excellent, whose glorious praise

  Through Hellas and all Argos flew diffused.

  And now, my darling son,--him storms have snatch'd

  Far hence inglorious, and I knew it not. 880

  Ah treach'rous servants! conscious as ye were

  Of his design, not one of you the thought

  Conceived to wake me when he went on board.

  For had but the report once reach'd my ear,

  He either had not gone (how much soe'er

  He wish'd to leave me) or had left me dead.

  But haste ye,--bid my antient servant come,

  Dolion, whom (when I left my father's house

  He gave me, and whose office is to attend

  My num'rous garden-plants) that he may seek 890

  At once Laertes, and may tell him all,

  Who may contrive some remedy, perchance,

  Or fit expedient, and shall come abroad

  To weep before the men who wish to slay

  Even the prince, godlike Ulysses' son.

  Then thus the gentle Euryclea spake,

  Nurse of Telemachus. Alas! my Queen!