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The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman

Page 131

by George Chapman


  ‭ Observ’d their brutish form, and look’d for food;

  ‭ When, with another med’cine, ev’ry one

  ‭ All over smear’d, their bristles all were gone,

  ‭ Produc’d by malice of the other bane,

  ‭ And ev’ry one, afresh, look’d up a man,

  ‭ Both younger than they were, of stature more,

  ‭ And all their forms much goodlier than before.

  ‭ All knew me, cling’d about me, and a cry

  ‭ Of pleasing mourning flew about so high

  ‭ The horrid roof resounded; and the queen

  ‭ Herself was mov’d to see our kind so keen,

  ‭ Who bad me now bring ship and men ashore,

  ‭ Our arms, and goods in caves hid, and restore

  ‭ Myself to her, with all my other men.

  ‭ I granted, went, and op’d the weeping vein

  ‭ In all my men; whose violent joy to see

  ‭ My safe return was passing kindly free

  ‭ Of friendly tears, and miserably wept.

  ‭ You have not seen young heifers (highly kept,

  ‭ Fill’d full of daisies at the field, and driv’n

  ‭ Home to their hovels, all so spritely giv’n

  ‭ That no room can contain them, but about

  ‭ Bace by the dams, and let their spirits out

  ‭ In ceaseless bleating) of more jocund plight

  ‭ Than my kind friends, ev’n crying out with sight

  ‭ Of my return so doubted; circled me

  ‭ With all their welcomes, and as cheerfully

  ‭ Dispos’d their rapt minds, as if there they saw

  ‭ Their natural country, cliffy Ithaca,

  ‭ And ev’n the roofs where they were bred and born,

  ‭ And vow’d as much, with tears; ‘O your return

  ‭ As much delights us as in you had come

  ‭ Our country to us, and our natural home.

  ‭ But what unhappy fate hath reft our friends?’

  ‭ I gave unlook’d-for answer, that amends

  ‭ Made for their mourning, bad them first of all

  ‭ Our ship ashore draw, then in caverns stall

  ‭ Our foody cattle, hide our mutual prize,

  ‭ ῾And then,᾿ said I, ῾attend me, that your eyes,

  ‭ In Circe’s sacred house, may see each friend

  ‭ Eating and drinking banquets out of end.᾿

  ‭ They soon obey’d; all but Eurylochus,

  ‭ Who needs would stay them all, and counsell’d thus:

  ‭ ῾O wretches! whither will ye? Why are you

  ‭ Fond of your mischiefs, and such gladness show

  ‭ For Circe’s house, that will transform ye all

  ‭ To swine, or wolves, or lions? Never shall

  ‭ Our heads get out, if once within we be,

  ‭ But stay compell’d by strong necessity.

  ‭ So wrought the Cyclop, when t’ his cave our friends

  ‭ This bold one led on, and brought all their ends

  ‭ By his one indiscretion.᾿ I for this

  ‭ Thought with my sword (that desp’rate head of his

  ‭ Hewn from his neck) to gash upon the ground

  ‭ His mangled body, though my blood was bound

  ‭ In near alliance to him. But the rest

  ‭ With humble suit contain’d me, and request,

  ‭ That I would leave him with my ship alone,

  ‭ And to the sacred palace lead them on.

  ‭ I led them; nor Eurylochus would stay

  ‭ From their attendance on me, our late fray

  ‭ Struck to his heart so. But mean time, my men,

  ‭ In Circe’s house, were all, in sev’ral bain,

  ‭ Studiously sweeten’d, smug’d with oil, and deck’d

  ‭ With in and out weeds, and a feast secret

  ‭ Serv’d in before them; at which close we found

  ‭ They all were set, cheer’d, and carousing round,

  ‭ When mutual sight had, and all thought on, then

  ‭ Feast was forgotten, and the moan again 12

  ‭ About the house flew, driv’n with wings of joy.

  ‭ But then spake Circe: ‘Now, no more annoy,

  ‭ I know myself what woes by sea, and shore,

  ‭ And men unjust have plagued enough before

  ‭ Your injur’d virtues. Here then feast as long,

  ‭ And be as cheerful, till ye grow as strong

  ‭ As when ye first forsook your country-earth.

  ‭ Ye now fare all like exiles; not a mirth,

  ‭ Flash’d in amongst ye, but is quench’d again

  ‭ With still-renew’d tears, though the beaten vein

  ‭ Of your distresses should, me think, be now

  ‭ Benumb with suff’rance.’ We did well allow

  ‭ Her kind persuasions, and the whole year stay’d

  ‭ In varied feast with her. When, now array’d

  ‭ The world was with the spring, and orby hours

  ‭ Had gone the round again through herbs and flow’rs,

  ‭ The months absolv’d in order, till the days

  ‭ Had run their full race in Apollo’s rays;

  ‭ My friends remember’d me of home, and said;

  ‭ If ever fate would sign my pass, delay’d

  ‭ It should be now no more. I heard them well,

  ‭ Yet that day spent in feast, till darkness fell,

  ‭ And sleep his virtues through our vapours shed.

  ‭ When I ascended sacred Circe’s bed,

  ‭ Implor’d my pass, and her performéd vow

  ‭ Which now my soul urg’d, and my soldiers now

  ‭ Afflicted me with tears to get them gone.

  ‭ All these I told her, and she answer’d these:

  ‭ “Much-skill’d Ulysses Laertiades!

  ‭ Remain no more against your wills with me,

  ‭ But take your free way; only this must be

  ‭ Perform’d before you steer your course for home:

  ‭ You must the way to Pluto overcome,

  ‭ And stern Persephoné, to form your pass,

  ‭ By th’ aged Theban soul Tiresias,

  ‭ The dark-brow’d prophet, whose soul yet can see

  ‭ Clearly, and firmly; grave Persephoné,

  ‭ Ev’n dead, gave him a mind, that he alone

  ‭ Might sing truth’s solid wisdom, and not one

  ‭ Prove more than shade in his comparison.᾿

  ‭ This broke my heart; I sunk into my bed,

  ‭ Mourn’d, and would never more be comforted

  ‭ With light, nor life. But having now exprest

  ‭ My pains enough to her in my unrest,

  ‭ That so I might prepare her ruth, and get

  ‭ All I held fit for an affair so great,

  ‭ I said: ‘O Circe, who shall steer my course

  ‭ To Pluto’s kingdom? Never ship had force

  ‭ To make that voyage.’ The divine-in-voice

  ‭ Said; ‘Seek no guide, raise you your mast, and hoise

  ‭ Your ship’s white sails, and then sit yon at peace,

  ‭ The fresh North Spirit shall waft ye through the Seas.

  ‭ But, having past the ocean, you shall see

  ‭ A little shore, that to Persephoné

  ‭ Puts up a consecrated wood, where grows

  ‭ Tall firs, and sallows that their fruits soon lose.

  ‭ Cast anchor in the gulfs, and go alone

  ‭ To Pluto’s dark house, where, to Acheron

  ‭ Cocytus runs, and Pyriphlegethon,

  ‭ Cocytus born of Styx, and where a rock

  ‭ Of both the met floods bears the roaring shock.

  ‭ The dark heroë, great Tiresias,

  ‭ Now coming near, to gain propitious pass,

  ‭ Dig of a cubit ev’ry way a pit,

 
‭ And pour to all that are deceas’d in it

  ‭ A solemn sacrifice. For which, first take

  ‭ Honey and wine, and their commixtion make;

  ‭ Then sweet wine neat; and thirdly water pour;

  ‭ And lastly add to these the whitest flour.

  ‭ Then vow to all the weak necks of the dead

  ‭ Off’rings a number; and, when thou shalt tread

  ‭ The Ithacensian shore, to sacrifice

  ‭ A heifer never-tam’d, and most of prize,

  ‭ A pile of all thy most esteeméd goods

  ‭ Enflaming to the dear streams of their bloods;

  ‭ And, in secret rites, to Tiresias vow

  ‭ A ram coal-black at all parts, that doth flow

  ‭ With fat and fleece, and all thy flocks doth lead.

  ‭ When the all-calling nation of the dead 13

  ‭ Thou thus hast pray’d to, offer on the place

  ‭ A ram and ewe all black being turn’d in face

  ‭ To dreadful Erebus, thyself aside

  ‭ The flood’s shore walking. And then, gratified

  ‭ With flocks of souls of men and dames deceas’d

  ‭ Shall all thy pious rites be. Straight address’d

  ‭ See then the off’ring that thy fellows slew,

  ‭ Flay’d, and impos’d in fire; and all thy crew

  ‭ Pray to the state of either Deity,

  ‭ Grave Pluto, and severe Persephoné.

  ‭ Then draw thy sword, stand firm, nor suffer one

  ‭ Of all the faint shades of the dead and gone

  ‭ T’ approach the blood, till thou hast heard their king,

  ‭ The wise Tiresias; who thy offering

  ‭ Will instantly do honour, thy home-ways,

  ‭ And all the measure of them by the seas,

  ‭ Amply unfolding.’ This the Goddess told;

  ‭ And then the Morning in her throne of gold

  ‭ Survey’d the vast world; by whose orient light

  ‭ The Nymph adorn’d me with attires as bright,

  ‭ Her own hands putting on both shirt and weed,

  ‭ Robes fine, and curious, and upon my head

  ‭ An ornament that glitter’d like a flame,

  ‭ Girt me in gold; and forth betimes I came

  ‭ Amongst my soldiers, rous’d them all from sleep,

  ‭ And bad them now no more observance keep

  ‭ Of ease, and feast, but straight a-shipboard fall,

  ‭ For now the Goddess had inform’d me all.

  ‭ Their noble spirits agreed; nor yet so clear

  ‭ Could I bring all off, but Elpenor there

  ‭ His heedless life left. He was youngest man

  ‭ Of all my company, and one that wan

  ‭ Least fame for arms, as little for his brain;

  ‭ Who (too much steep’d in wine, and so made fain

  ‭ To get refreshing by the cool of sleep,

  ‭ Apart his fellows, plung’d in vapours deep,

  ‭ And they as high in tumult of their way)

  ‭ Suddenly wak’d and (quite out of the stay

  ‭ A sober mind had giv’n him) would descend

  ‭ A huge long ladder, forward, and an end

  ‭ Fell from the very roof, full pitching on

  ‭ The dearest joint his head was plac’d upon,

  ‭ Which, quite dissolv’d, let loose his soul to hell.

  ‭ I to the rest, and Circe’s means did tell

  ‭ Of our return, as crossing clean the hope

  ‭ I gave them first, and said: ‘You think the scope

  ‭ Of our endeavours now is straight for home;

  ‭ No; Circe otherwise design’d, whose doom

  ‭ Enjoin’d us first to greet the dreadful house

  ‭ Of austere Pluto and his glorious spouse,

  ‭ To take the counsel of Tiresias,

  ‭ The rev’rend Theban, to direct our pass.’

  ‭ This brake their hearts, and grief made tear their hair.

  ‭ But grief was never good at great affair;

  ‭ It would have way yet. We went woful on

  ‭ To ship and shore, where was arriv’d as soon

  ‭ Circe unseen, a black ewe and a ram

  ‭ Binding for sacrifice, and, as she came,

  ‭ Vanish’d again unwitness’d by our eyes;

  ‭ Which griev’d not us, nor check’d our sacrifice,

  ‭ For who would see God, loth to let us see,

  ‭ This way or that bent; still his ways are free.

  FINIS DECIMI LIBRI HOM. ODYSS.

  ENDNOTES.

  1 Πόδα νηὸς — He calls the stern the foot of the ship.

  2 This place suffers different construction in all the Commentors: ‭in which all err from the mind of the Poet, as in a hundred other ‭places (which yet I want time to approve) especially about ἐγγὺς ‭γὰρ νυκτός, etc. Prope enim noetis et diei sunt viœ (or similiter, ‭which ἐγγὺς signifies) which they will have to be understood, that ‭the days in that region are long, and the nights short; where Homer ‭intends, that the equinoctial is there; for how else is the course of ‭day and night near or equal? But therefore the night’s-man hath his ‭double hire, being as long about his charge as the other; and the ‭night being more dangerous, etc. And if the day were so long, why ‭should the night’s-man be preferred in wages?

  3 For being cast on the stays, as ships are by weather.

  4 Antiphas was king there.

  5 Μερμαίρω, curiosè cogito.

  6 Αἴθοπα καπνόν. Αι͒θοψ signifying rutilus, by reason or the ‭fire mixed with it. Fumus qui fit dut aliquid accenditur.

  7 ᾿Ερικύδεα δαι̑τα.

  8 The whole end of this counsel was to persuade his soldiers to ‭explore those parts, which he knew would prove a most unpleasing ‭motion to them: for their fellows’ terrible entertainment with ‭Antiphas, and Polyph. and therefore he prepares the little he hath to ‭say with this long circumstance; implying a necessity of that ‭service, and necessary resolution to add the trial of the event to ‭their other adventures.

  9 Κεδνὸς, cujus animus curas prudentes versat.

  10 Seeing them, he thought of his fellows.

  11 The herb Moly, which, with Ulysses’ whole narration, hath in ‭chief an allegorical exposition. Notwithstanding I say with our ‭Spondanus, Credo in hoc vasto mundi ambitu extare res ‭innumeras mirandæ facultatis: adeo, ut ne quidem ista quæ ad ‭transformanda corpora pertinet, jure è mundo eximi possit, etc.

  12 Φράσσαντό τε πάντα. Commemorabantque omnia. Intending ‭all their miseries, escapes, and meetings.

  13 Κλυτὰ ἕθνεα νεκρω̑ν. Which is expounded Inclyta examina ‭mortuorum: but κλυτὸς is the epithet of Pluto; and by analogy ‭belongs to the dead, quod ad se omnes advocat.

  THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF HOMER’S ODYSSEYS

  THE ARGUMENT

  Ulysees’ way to Hell appears;

  ‭ Where he the grave Tiresias hears;

  ‭ Enquires his own and others’ fates;

  ‭ His mother sees, and th’ after states

  ‭ In which were held by sad decease

  ‭ Heroës, and Heroesses,

  ‭ A number, that at Troy wag’d war;

  ‭ As Ajax that was still at jar

  ‭ With Ithacus, for th’ arms he lost;

  ‭ And with the great Achilles’ ghost.

  ANOTHER ARGUMENT

  Λάνβδα.

  ‭ Ulysses here

  ‭ Invokes the dead,

  ‭ The lives appear

  ‭ Hereafter led.

  “Arriv’d now at our ship, we launch’d, and set

  ‭ Our mast up, put forth sail, and in did get

  ‭ Our late-got cattle. Up our sails, we went,

  ‭ My wayward fellows mourning now th’ event. 1

  ‭ A good compa
nion yet, a foreright wind,

  ‭ Circe (the excellent utt’rer of her mind)

  ‭ Supplied our murmuring consorts with, that was

  ‭ Both speed and guide to our adventurous pass.

  ‭ All day our sails stood to the winds, and made

  ‭ Our voyage prosp’rous. Sun then set, and shade

  ‭ All ways obscuring, on the bounds we fell

  ‭ Of deep Oceanus, where people dwell

  ‭ Whom a perpetual cloud obscures outright,

  ‭ To whom the cheerful sun lends never light,

  ‭ Nor when he mounts the star-sustaining heaven,

  ‭ Nor when he stoops earth, and sets up the even,

  ‭ But night holds fix’d wings, feather’d all with banes,

  ‭ Above those most unblest Cimmerians.

  ‭ Here drew we up our ship, our sheep withdrew,

  ‭ And walk’d the shore till we attain’d the view,

  ‭ Of that sad region Circe had foreshow’d;

  ‭ And then the sacred off’rings to be vow’d

  ‭ Eurylochus and Persimedes bore.

  ‭ When I my sword drew, and earth’s womb did gore

  ‭ Till I a pit digg’d of a cubit round,

  ‭ Which with the liquid sacrifice we crown’d,

  ‭ First honey mix’d with wine, then sweet wine neat,

  ‭ Then water pour’d in, last the flour of wheat.

  ‭ Much I importun’d then the weak-neck’d dead,

  ‭ And vow’d, when I the barren soil should tread

  ‭ Of clifty Ithaca, amidst my hall

  ‭ To kill a heifer, my clear best of all,

  ‭ And give in off’ring, on a pile compos’d

  ‭ Of all the choice goods my whole house enclos’d.

  ‭ And to Tiresias himself, alone,

  ‭ A sheep coal-black, and the selectest one

  ‭ Of all my flocks. When to the Pow’rs beneath,

  ‭ The sacred nation that survive with death,

  ‭ My pray’rs and vows had done devotions fit,

  ‭ I took the off’rings, and upon the pit

  ‭ Bereft their lives. Out gush’d the sable blood,

  ‭ And round about me fled out of the flood

  ‭ The souls of the deceas’d. There cluster’d then

  ‭ Youths, and their wives, much-suff’ring aged men,

  ‭ Soft tender virgins that but new came there

  ‭ By timeless death, and green their sorrows were.

  ‭ There men-at-arms, with armours all embrew’d,

  ‭ Wounded with lances, and with faulchions hew’d,

  ‭ In numbers, up and down the ditch, did stalk,

  ‭ And threw unmeasur’d cries about their walk,

 

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