by Homer
Dwells no such thought; thou lov'st not to impart
To others, but to gratify thyself.
To whom Antinoüs answer thus return'd.
High-soaring and intemp'rate in thy speech
How hast thou said, Telemachus? Would all 490
As much bestow on him, he should not seek
Admittance here again three months to come.
So saying, he seized the stool which, banqueting,
He press'd with his nice feet, and from beneath
The table forth advanced it into view.
The rest all gave to him, with bread and flesh
Filling his wallet, and Ulysses, now,
Returning to his threshold, there to taste
The bounty of the Greeks, paused in his way
Beside Antinoüs, whom he thus address'd. 500
Kind sir! vouchsafe to me! for thou appear'st
Not least, but greatest of the Achaians here,
And hast a kingly look. It might become
Thee therefore above others to bestow,
So should I praise thee wheresoe'er I roam.
I also lived the happy owner once
Of such a stately mansion, and have giv'n
To num'rous wand'rers (whencesoe'er they came)
All that they needed; I was also served
By many, and enjoy'd all that denotes 510
The envied owner opulent and blest.
But Jove (for so it pleas'd him) hath reduced
My all to nothing, prompting me, in league
With rovers of the Deep, to sail afar
To Ægypt, for my sure destruction there.
Within th' Ægyptian stream my barks well-oar'd
I station'd, and, enjoining strict my friends
To watch them close-attendant at their side,
Commanded spies into the hill-tops; but they,
Under the impulse of a spirit rash 520
And hot for quarrel, the well-cultur'd fields
Pillaged of the Ægyptians, captive led
Their wives and little-ones, and slew the men.
Ere long, the loud alarm their city reach'd.
Down came the citizens, by dawn of day,
With horse and foot and with the gleam of arms
Filling the plain. Then Jove with panic dread
Struck all my people; none found courage more
To stand, for mischiefs swarm'd on ev'ry side.
There, num'rous by the glitt'ring spear we fell 530
Slaughter'd, while others they conducted thence
Alive to servitude; but me they gave
To Dmetor, King in Cyprus, Jasus' son;
He entertained me liberally, and thence
This land I reach'd, but poor and woe-begone.
Then answer thus Antinoüs harsh return'd.
What dæmon introduced this nuisance here,
This troubler of our feast? stand yonder, keep
Due distance from my table, or expect
To see an Ægypt and a Cyprus worse 540
Than those, bold mendicant and void of shame!
Thou hauntest each, and, inconsid'rate, each
Gives to thee, because gifts at other's cost
Are cheap, and, plentifully serv'd themselves,
They squander, heedless, viands not their own.
To whom Ulysses while he slow retired.
Gods! how illib'ral with that specious form!
Thou wouldst not grant the poor a grain of salt
From thy own board, who at another's fed
So nobly, canst thou not spare a crust to me. 550
He spake; then raged Antinoüs still the more,
And in wing'd accents, louring, thus replied.
Take such dismission now as thou deserv'st,
Opprobrious! hast thou dared to scoff at me?
So saying, he seized his stool, and on the joint
Of his right shoulder smote him; firm as rock
He stood, by no such force to be displaced,
But silent shook his brows, and dreadful deeds
Of vengeance ruminating, sought again
His seat the threshold, where his bag full-charged 560
He grounded, and the suitors thus address'd.
Hear now, ye suitors of the matchless Queen,
My bosom's dictates. Trivial is the harm,
Scarce felt, if, fighting for his own, his sheep
Perchance, or beeves, a man receive a blow.
But me Antinoüs struck for that I ask'd
Food from him merely to appease the pangs
Of hunger, source of num'rous ills to man.
If then the poor man have a God t' avenge
His wrongs, I pray to him that death may seize 570
Antinoüs, ere his nuptial hour arrive!
To whom Antinoüs answer thus return'd,
Son of Eupithes. Either seated there
Or going hence, eat, stranger, and be still;
Lest for thy insolence, by hand or foot
We drag thee forth, and thou be flay'd alive.
He ceased, whom all indignant heard, and thus
Ev'n his own proud companions censured him.
Antinoüs! thou didst not well to smite
The wretched vagabond. O thou art doom'd 580
For ever, if there be a God in heav'n;
For, in similitude of strangers oft,
The Gods, who can with ease all shapes assume,
Repair to populous cities, where they mark
The outrageous and the righteous deeds of men.
So they, for whose reproof he little cared.
But in his heart Telemachus that blow
Resented, anguish-torn, yet not a tear
He shed, but silent shook his brows, and mused
Terrible things. Penelope, meantime, 590
Told of the wand'rer so abused beneath
Her roof, among her maidens thus exclaim'd.
So may Apollo, glorious archer, smite
Thee also. Then Eurynome replied,
Oh might our pray'rs prevail, none of them all
Should see bright-charioted Aurora more.
Her answer'd then Penelope discrete.
Nurse! they are odious all, for that alike
All teem with mischief; but Antinoüs' looks
Remind me ever of the gloom of death. 600
A stranger hath arrived who, begging, roams
The house, (for so his penury enjoins)
The rest have giv'n him, and have fill'd his bag
With viands, but Antinoüs hath bruised
His shoulder with a foot-stool hurl'd at him.
While thus the Queen conversing with her train
In her own chamber sat, Ulysses made
Plenteous repast. Then, calling to her side
Eumæus, thus she signified her will.
Eumæus, noble friend! bid now approach 610
Yon stranger. I would speak with him, and ask
If he has seen Ulysses, or have heard
Tidings, perchance, of the afflicted Chief,
For much a wand'rer by his garb he seems.
To whom, Eumæus, thou didst thus reply.
Were those Achaians silent, thou shouldst hear,
O Queen! a tale that would console thy heart.
Three nights I housed him, and within my cot
Three days detain'd him, (for his ship he left
A fugitive, and came direct to me) 620
But half untold his hist'ry still remains.
As when his eye one fixes on a bard
From heav'n instructed in such themes as charm
The ear of mortals, ever as he sings
The people press, insatiable, to hear,
So, in my cottage, seated at my side,
That stranger with his tale enchanted me.
Laertes, he affirms, hath been his guest
Erewhile in Crete, where Minos' race resides,
And thence he hat
h arrived, after great loss, 630
A suppliant to the very earth abased;
He adds, that in Thesprotia's neighbour realm
He of Ulysses heard, both that he lives,
And that he comes laden with riches home.
To whom Penelope, discrete, replied.
Haste; call him. I would hear, myself, his tale.
Meantime, let these, or in the palace gate
Sport jocular, or here; their hearts are light,
For their possessions are secure; _their_ wine
None drinks, or eats _their_ viands, save their own, 640
While my abode, day after day, themselves
Haunting, my beeves and sheep and fatted goats
Slay for the banquet, and my casks exhaust
Extravagant, whence endless waste ensues;
For no such friend as was Ulysses once
Have I to expel the mischief. But might he
Revisit once his native shores again,
Then, aided by his son, he should avenge,
Incontinent, the wrongs which now I mourn.
Then sneezed Telemachus with sudden force, 650
That all the palace rang; his mother laugh'd,
And in wing'd accents thus the swain bespake.
Haste--bid him hither--hear'st thou not the sneeze
Propitious of my son? oh might it prove
A presage of inevitable death
To all these revellers! may none escape!
Now mark me well. Should the event his tale
Confirm, at my own hands he shall receive
Mantle and tunic both for his reward.
She spake; he went, and where Ulysses sat 660
Arriving, in wing'd accents thus began.
Penelope, my venerable friend!
Calls thee, the mother of Telemachus.
Oppress'd by num'rous troubles, she desires
To ask thee tidings of her absent Lord.
And should the event verify thy report,
Thy meed shall be (a boon which much thou need'st)
Tunic and mantle; but she gives no more;
Thy sustenance thou must, as now, obtain,
Begging it at their hands who chuse to give. 670
Then thus Ulysses, Hero toil-inured.
Eumæus! readily I can relate
Truth, and truth only, to the prudent Queen
Icarius' daughter; for of him I know
Much, and have suff'red sorrows like his own.
But dread I feel of this imperious throng
Perverse, whose riot and outrageous acts
Of violence echo through the vault of heav'n.
And, even now, when for no fault of mine
Yon suitor struck me as I pass'd, and fill'd 680
My flesh with pain, neither Telemachus
Nor any interposed to stay his arm.
Now, therefore, let Penelope, although
Impatient, till the sun descend postpone
Her questions; then she may enquire secure
When comes her husband, and may nearer place
My seat to the hearth-side, for thinly clad
Thou know'st I am, whose aid I first implored.
He ceas'd; at whose reply Eumæus sought
Again the Queen, but ere he yet had pass'd 690
The threshold, thus she greeted his return.
Com'st thou alone, Eumæus? why delays
The invited wand'rer? dreads he other harm?
Or sees he aught that with a bashful awe
Fills him? the bashful poor are poor indeed.
To whom, Eumæus, thou didst thus reply.
He hath well spoken; none who would decline
The rudeness of this contumelious throng
Could answer otherwise; thee he entreats
To wait till sun-set, and that course, O Queen, 700
Thou shalt thyself far more commodious find,
To hold thy conf'rence with the guest, alone.
Then answer thus Penelope return'd.
The stranger, I perceive, is not unwise,
Whoe'er he be, for on the earth are none
Proud, insolent, and profligate as these.
So spake the Queen. Then (all his message told)
The good Eumæus to the suitors went
Again, and with his head inclined toward
Telemachus, lest others should his words 710
Witness, in accents wing'd him thus address'd.
Friend and kind master! I return to keep
My herds, and to attend my rural charge,
Whence we are both sustain'd. Keep thou, meantime,
All here with vigilance, but chiefly watch
For thy own good, and save _thyself_ from harm;
For num'rous here brood mischief, whom the Gods
Exterminate, ere yet their plots prevail!
To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.
So be it, father! and (thy evening-mess 720
Eaten) depart; to-morrow come again,
Bringing fair victims hither; I will keep,
I and the Gods, meantime, all here secure.
He ended; then resumed once more the swain
His polish'd seat, and, both with wine and food
Now satiate, to his charge return'd, the court
Leaving and all the palace throng'd with guests;
They (for it now was evening) all alike
Turn'd jovial to the song and to the dance.
FOOTNOTES:
Proteus.
The hearth was the altar on which the lares or household-gods were
worshipped.
That he might begin auspiciously. Wine was served in the same
direction. F.
Here again Θεὸς occurs in the abstract.
Ει δη που τις επουρανιος θεος εσι
Eustathius, and Clarke after him, understand an aposiopesis here, as if
the speaker meant to say--what if there should be? or--suppose there
should be? But the sentence seems to fall in better with what follows
interpreted as above, and it is a sense of the passage not unwarranted by
the opinion of other commentators. See Schaufelbergerus.
This seems added by Eumæus to cut off from Ulysses the hope that
might otherwise tempt him to use fiction.
BOOK XVIII
ARGUMENT
The beggar Irus arrives at the palace; a combat takes place between him
and Ulysses, in which Irus is by one blow vanquished. Penelope appears to
the suitors, and having reminded them of the presents which she had a
right to expect from them, receives a gift from each. Eurymachus,
provoked by a speech of Ulysses, flings a foot-stool at him, which knocks
down the cup-bearer; a general tumult is the consequence, which
continues, till by the advice of Telemachus, seconded by Amphinomus, the
suitors retire to their respective homes.
Now came a public mendicant, a man
Accustom'd, seeking alms, to roam the streets
Of Ithaca; one never sated yet
With food or drink; yet muscle had he none,
Or strength of limb, though giant-built in show.
Arnæus was the name which at his birth
His mother gave him, but the youthful band
Of suitors, whom as messenger he served,
All named him Irus. He, arriving, sought
To drive Ulysses forth from his own home, 10
And in rough accents rude him thus rebuked.
Forth from the porch, old man! lest by the foot
I drag thee quickly forth. Seest not how all
Wink on me, and by signs give me command
To drag thee hence? nor is it aught but shame
That checks me. Yet arise, lest soon with fists
Thou force me to adjust our diff'rence.
To whom Ulysses
, low'ring dark, replied.
Peace, fellow! neither word nor deed of mine
Wrongs thee, nor feel I envy at the boon, 20
However plentiful, which thou receiv'st.
The sill may hold us both; thou dost not well
To envy others; thou appear'st like me
A vagrant; plenty is the gift of heav'n.
But urge me not to trial of our fists,
Lest thou provoke me, and I stain with blood
Thy bosom and thy lips, old as I am.
So, my attendance should to-morrow prove
More tranquil here; for thou should'st leave, I judge,
Ulysses' mansion, never to return. 30
Then answer'd Irus, kindling with disdain.
Gods! with what volubility of speech
The table-hunter prates, like an old hag
Collied with chimney-smutch! but ah beware!
For I intend thee mischief, and to dash
With both hands ev'ry grinder from thy gums,
As men untooth a pig pilf'ring the corn.
Come--gird thee, that all here may view the strife--
But how wilt thou oppose one young as I?
Thus on the threshold of the lofty gate 40
They, wrangling, chafed each other, whose dispute
The high-born youth Antinoüs mark'd; he laugh'd
Delighted, and the suitors thus address'd.
Oh friends! no pastime ever yet occurr'd
Pleasant as this which, now, the Gods themselves
Afford us. Irus and the stranger brawl
As they would box. Haste--let us urge them on.
He said; at once loud-laughing all arose;
The ill-clad disputants they round about
Encompass'd, and Antinoüs thus began. 50
Attend ye noble suitors to my voice.
Two paunches lie of goats here on the fire,
Which fill'd with fat and blood we set apart
For supper; he who conquers, and in force
Superior proves, shall freely take the paunch
Which he prefers, and shall with us thenceforth
Feast always; neither will we here admit
Poor man beside to beg at our repasts.
He spake, whom all approved; next, artful Chief
Ulysses thus, dissembling, them address'd. 60
Princes! unequal is the strife between
A young man and an old with mis'ry worn;
But hunger, always counsellor of ill,
Me moves to fight, that many a bruise received,
I may be foil'd at last. Now swear ye all
A solemn oath, that none, for Irus' sake
Shall, interposing, smite me with his fist