Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  Clandestine, forcing me to yield the prize.

  He ceas'd, and, as he bade, all present swore

  A solemn oath; then thus, amid them all 70

  Standing, Telemachus majestic spake.

  Guest! if thy courage and thy manly mind

  Prompt thee to banish this man hence, no force

  Fear thou beside, for who smites thee, shall find

  Yet other foes to cope with; I am here

  In the host's office, and the royal Chiefs

  Eurymachus and Antinoüs, alike

  Discrete, accord unanimous with me.

  He ceas'd, whom all approved. Then, with his rags

  Ulysses braced for decency his loins 80

  Around, but gave to view his brawny thighs

  Proportion'd fair, and stripp'd his shoulders broad,

  His chest and arms robust; while, at his side,

  Dilating more the Hero's limbs and more

  Minerva stood; the assembly with fixt eyes

  Astonish'd gazed on him, and, looking full

  On his next friend, a suitor thus remark'd.

  Irus shall be in Irus found no more.

  He hath pull'd evil on himself. What thewes

  And what a haunch the senior's tatters hid! 90

  So he--meantime in Irus' heart arose

  Horrible tumult; yet, his loins by force

  Girding, the servants dragg'd him to the fight

  Pale, and his flesh all quiv'ring as he came;

  Whose terrors thus Antinoüs sharp rebuked.

  Now, wherefore liv'st, and why wast ever born

  Thou mountain-mass of earth! if such dismay

  Shake thee at thought of combat with a man

  Ancient as he, and worn with many woes?

  But mark, I threaten not in vain; should he 100

  O'ercome thee, and in force superior prove,

  To Echetus thou go'st; my sable bark

  Shall waft thee to Epirus, where he reigns

  Enemy of mankind; of nose and ears

  He shall despoil thee with his ruthless steel,

  And tearing by the roots the parts away

  That mark thy sex, shall cast them to the dogs.

  He said; _His_ limbs new terrors at that sound

  Shook under him; into the middle space

  They led him, and each raised his hands on high. 110

  Then doubtful stood Ulysses toil-inured,

  Whether to strike him lifeless to the earth

  At once, or fell him with a managed blow.

  To smite with managed force at length he chose

  As wisest, lest, betray'd by his own strength,

  He should be known. With elevated fists

  Both stood; him Irus on the shoulder struck,

  But he his adversary on the neck

  Pash'd close beneath his ear; he split the bones,

  And blood in sable streams ran from his mouth. 120

  With many an hideous yell he dropp'd, his teeth

  Chatter'd, and with his heels he drumm'd the ground.

  The wooers, at that sight, lifting their hands

  In glad surprize, laugh'd all their breath away.

  Then, through the vestibule, and right across

  The court, Ulysses dragg'd him by the foot

  Into the portico, where propping him

  Against the wall, and giving him his staff,

  In accents wing'd he bade him thus farewell.

  There seated now, dogs drive and swine away, 130

  Nor claim (thyself so base) supreme controul

  O'er other guests and mendicants, lest harm

  Reach thee, hereafter, heavier still than this.

  So saying, his tatter'd wallet o'er his back

  He threw suspended by its leathern twist,

  And tow'rd the threshold turning, sat again,

  They laughing ceaseless still, the palace-door

  Re-enter'd, and him, courteous, thus bespake.

  Jove, and all Jove's assessors in the skies

  Vouchsafe thee, stranger, whatsoe'er it be, 140

  Thy heart's desire! who hast our ears reliev'd

  From that insatiate beggar's irksome tone.

  Soon to Epirus he shall go dispatch'd

  To Echetus the King, pest of mankind.

  So they, to whose propitious words the Chief

  Listen'd delighted. Then Antinoüs placed

  The paunch before him, and Amphinomus

  Two loaves, selected from the rest; he fill'd

  A goblet also, drank to him, and said,

  My father, hail! O stranger, be thy lot 150

  Hereafter blest, though adverse now and hard!

  To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.

  To me, Amphinomus, endued thou seem'st

  With much discretion, who art also son

  Of such a sire, whose fair report I know,

  Dulichian Nysus, opulent and good.

  Fame speaks thee his, and thou appear'st a man

  Judicious; hear me, therefore; mark me well.

  Earth nourishes, of all that breathe or creep,

  No creature weak as man; for while the Gods 160

  Grant him prosperity and health, no fear

  Hath he, or thought, that he shall ever mourn;

  But when the Gods with evils unforeseen

  Smite him, he bears them with a grudging mind;

  For such as the complexion of his lot

  By the appointment of the Sire of all,

  Such is the colour of the mind of man.

  I, too, have been familiar in my day

  With wealth and ease, but I was then self-will'd,

  And many wrong'd, embolden'd by the thought 170

  Of my own father's and my brethren's pow'r.

  Let no man, therefore, be unjust, but each

  Use modestly what gift soe'er of heav'n.

  So do not these. These ever bent I see

  On deeds injurious, the possessions large

  Consuming, and dishonouring the wife

  Of one, who will not, as I judge, remain

  Long absent from his home, but is, perchance,

  Ev'n at the door. Thee, therefore, may the Gods

  Steal hence in time! ah, meet not his return 180

  To his own country! for they will not part,

  (He and the suitors) without blood, I think,

  If once he enter at these gates again!

  He ended, and, libation pouring, quaff'd

  The generous juice, then in the prince's hand

  Replaced the cup; he, pensive, and his head

  Inclining low, pass'd from him; for his heart

  Forboded ill; yet 'scaped not even he,

  But in the snare of Pallas caught, his life

  To the heroic arm and spear resign'd 190

  Of brave Telemachus. Reaching, at length,

  The seat whence he had ris'n, he sat again.

  Minerva then, Goddess, cærulean-eyed,

  Prompted Icarius' daughter to appear

  Before the suitors; so to expose the more

  Their drift iniquitous, and that herself

  More bright than ever in her husband's eyes

  Might shine, and in her son's. Much mirth she feign'd,

  And, bursting into laughter, thus began.

  I wish, Eurynome! (who never felt 200

  That wish till now) though I detest them all,

  To appear before the suitors, in whose ears

  I will admonish, for his good, my son,

  Not to associate with that lawless crew

  Too much, who speak him fair, but foul intend.

  Then answer thus Eurynome return'd.

  My daughter! wisely hast thou said and well.

  Go! bathe thee and anoint thy face, then give

  To thy dear son such counsel as thou wilt

  Without reserve; but shew not there thy cheeks 210

  Sullied with tears, for profit none accrues

 
; From grief like thine, that never knows a change.

  And he is now bearded, and hath attained

  That age which thou wast wont with warmest pray'r

  To implore the Gods that he might live to see.

  Her answer'd then Penelope discrete.

  Persuade not me, though studious of my good,

  To bathe, Eurynome! or to anoint

  My face with oil; for all my charms the Gods

  Inhabitants of Olympus then destroy'd, 220

  When he, embarking, left me. Go, command

  Hippodamia and Autonöe

  That they attend me to the hall, and wait

  Beside me there; for decency forbids

  That I should enter to the men, alone.

  She ceas'd, and through the house the ancient dame

  Hasted to summon whom she had enjoin'd.

  But Pallas, Goddess of the azure eyes,

  Diffused, meantime, the kindly dew of sleep

  Around Icarius' daughter; on her couch 230

  Reclining, soon as she reclin'd, she dozed,

  And yielded to soft slumber all her frame.

  Then, that the suitors might admire her more,

  The glorious Goddess cloath'd her, as she lay,

  With beauty of the skies; her lovely face

  She with ambrosia purified, with such

  As Cytherea chaplet-crown'd employs

  Herself, when in the eye-ensnaring dance

  She joins the Graces; to a statelier height

  Beneath her touch, and ampler size she grew, 240

  And fairer than the elephantine bone

  Fresh from the carver's hand. These gifts conferr'd

  Divine, the awful Deity retired.

  And now, loud-prattling as they came, arrived

  Her handmaids; sleep forsook her at the sound,

  She wiped away a tear, and thus she said.

  Me gentle sleep, sad mourner as I am,

  Hath here involved. O would that by a death

  As gentle chaste Diana would herself

  This moment set me free, that I might waste 250

  My life no longer in heart-felt regret

  Of a lamented husband's various worth

  And virtue, for in Greece no Peer had he!

  She said, and through her chambers' stately door

  Issuing, descended; neither went she sole,

  But with those two fair menials of her train.

  Arriving, most majestic of her sex,

  In presence of the num'rous guests, beneath

  The portal of the stately dome she stood

  Between her maidens, with her lucid veil 260

  Mantling her lovely cheeks. Then, ev'ry knee

  Trembled, and ev'ry heart with am'rous heat

  Dissolv'd, her charms all coveting alike,

  While to Telemachus her son she spake.

  Telemachus! thou art no longer wise

  As once thou wast, and even when a child.

  For thriven as thou art, and at full size

  Arrived of man, so fair proportion'd, too,

  That ev'n a stranger, looking on thy growth

  And beauty, would pronounce thee nobly born, 270

  Yet is thy intellect still immature.

  For what is this? why suffer'st thou a guest

  To be abused in thy own palace? how?

  Know'st not that if the stranger seated here

  Endure vexation, the disgrace is thine?

  Her answer'd, then, Telemachus discrete.

  I blame thee not, my mother, that thou feel'st

  Thine anger moved; yet want I not a mind

  Able to mark and to discern between

  Evil and good, child as I lately was, 280

  Although I find not promptitude of thought

  Sufficient always, overaw'd and check'd

  By such a multitude, all bent alike

  On mischief, of whom none takes part with me.

  But Irus and the stranger have not fought,

  Urged by the suitors, and the stranger prov'd

  Victorious; yes--heav'n knows how much I wish

  That, (in the palace some, some in the court)

  The suitors all sat vanquish'd, with their heads

  Depending low, and with enfeebled limbs, 290

  Even as that same Irus, while I speak,

  With chin on bosom propp'd at the hall-gate

  Sits drunkard-like, incapable to stand

  Erect, or to regain his proper home.

  So they; and now addressing to the Queen

  His speech, Eurymachus thus interposed.

  O daughter of Icarius! could all eyes

  Throughout Iäsian Argos view thy charms,

  Discrete Penelope! more suitors still

  Assembling in thy courts would banquet here 300

  From morn to eve; for thou surpassest far

  In beauty, stature, worth, all womankind.

  To whom replied Penelope discrete.

  The Gods, Eurymachus! reduced to nought

  My virtue, beauty, stature, when the Greeks,

  Whom my Ulysses follow'd, sail'd to Troy.

  Could he, returning, my domestic charge

  Himself intend, far better would my fame

  Be so secured, and wider far diffused.

  But I am wretched now, such storms the Gods 310

  Of woe have sent me. When he left his home,

  Clasping my wrist with his right hand, he said.

  My love! for I imagine not that all

  The warrior Greeks shall safe from Troy return,

  Since fame reports the Trojans brave in fight,

  Skill'd in the spear, mighty to draw the bow,

  And nimble vaulters to the backs of steeds

  High-mettled, which to speediest issue bring

  The dreadful struggle of all-wasting war--

  I know not, therefore, whether heav'n intend 320

  My safe return, or I must perish there.

  But manage thou at home. Cherish, as now,

  While I am absent, or more dearly still

  My parents, and what time our son thou seest

  Mature, then wed; wed even whom thou wilt,

  And hence to a new home.--Such were his words,

  All which shall full accomplishment ere long

  Receive. The day is near, when hapless I,

  Lost to all comfort by the will of Jove,

  Must meet the nuptials that my soul abhors. 330

  But this thought now afflicts me, and my mind

  Continual haunts. Such was not heretofore

  The suitors' custom'd practice; all who chose

  To engage in competition for a wife

  Well-qualitied and well-endow'd, produced

  From their own herds and fatted flocks a feast

  For the bride's friends, and splendid presents made,

  But never ate as ye, at others' cost.

  She ceased; then brave Ulysses toil-inured

  Rejoiced that, soothing them, she sought to draw 340

  From each some gift, although on other views,

  And more important far, himself intent.

  Then thus Antinoüs, Eupithes' son.

  Icarius' daughter wise! only accept

  Such gifts as we shall bring, for gifts demand

  That grace, nor can be decently refused;

  But to our rural labours, or elsewhere

  Depart not we, till first thy choice be made

  Of the Achaian, chief in thy esteem.

  Antinoüs spake, whose answer all approved. 350

  Then each dispatch'd his herald who should bring

  His master's gift. Antinoüs' herald, first

  A mantle of surpassing beauty brought,

  Wide, various, with no fewer clasps adorn'd

  Than twelve, all golden, and to ev'ry clasp

  Was fitted opposite its eye exact.

  Next, to Eurymachus his herald bore

  A necklace of wrought gol
d, with amber rich

  Bestudded, ev'ry bead bright as a sun.

  Two servants for Eurydamas produced 360

  Ear-pendants fashion'd with laborious art,

  Broad, triple-gemm'd, of brilliant light profuse.

  The herald of Polyctor's son, the prince

  Pisander, brought a collar to his Lord,

  A sumptuous ornament. Each Greecian gave,

  And each a gift dissimilar from all.

  Then, loveliest of her sex, turning away,

  She sought her chamber, whom her maidens fair

  Attended, charged with those illustrious gifts.

  Then turn'd, they all to dance and pleasant song 370

  Joyous, expecting the approach of ev'n.

  Ere long the dusky evening came, and them

  Found sporting still. Then, placing in the hall

  Three hearths that should illumine wide the house,

  They compass'd them around with fuel-wood

  Long-season'd and new-split, mingling the sticks

  With torches. The attendant women watch'd

  And fed those fires by turns, to whom, himself,

  Their unknown Sov'reign thus his speech address'd.

  Ye maidens of the long-regretted Chief 380

  Ulysses! to the inner-courts retire,

  And to your virtuous Queen, that following there

  Your sev'ral tasks, spinning and combing wool,

  Ye may amuse her; I, meantime, for these

  Will furnish light, and should they chuse to stay

  Till golden morn appear, they shall not tire

  My patience aught, for I can much endure.

  He said; they, titt'ring, on each other gazed.

  But one, Melantho with the blooming cheeks,

  Rebuked him rudely. Dolius was her sire, 390

  But by Penelope she had been reared

  With care maternal, and in infant years

  Supplied with many a toy; yet even she

  Felt not her mistress' sorrows in her heart,

  But, of Eurymachus enamour'd, oft

  His lewd embraces met; she, with sharp speech

  Reproachful, to Ulysses thus replied.

  Why--what a brainsick vagabond art thou!

  Who neither wilt to the smith's forge retire

  For sleep, nor to the public portico, 400

  But here remaining, with audacious prate

  Disturb'st this num'rous company, restrain'd

  By no respect or fear; either thou art

  With wine intoxicated, or, perchance,

  Art always fool, and therefore babblest now.

  Say, art thou drunk with joy that thou hast foiled

  The beggar Irus? Tremble, lest a man

  Stronger than Irus suddenly arise,

  Who on thy temples pelting thee with blows

  Far heavier than his, shall drive thee hence 410

  With many a bruise, and foul with thy own blood.

  To whom Ulysses, frowning stern, replied.