Two mules, a bowl of gold, that hath his price
Heighten’d with emblems of some rare device.”
The wise prince answer’d: “I would gladly go
Home to mine own, and see that govern’d so
That I may keep what I for certain hold,
Not hazard that for only hop’d-for gold.
I left behind me none so all ways fit
To give it guard, as mine own trust with it.
Besides, in this broad course which you propose,
My father seeking I myself may lose.”
When this the shrill-voic’d Menelaus heard,
He charg’d his queen and maids to see prepar’d
Breakfast, of what the whole house held for best.
To him rose Eteoneus from his rest,
Whose dwelling was not far off from the court,
And his attendance his command did sort
With kindling fires, and furth’ring all the roast,
In act of whose charge heard no time he lost.
Himself then to an odorous room descended,
Whom Megapenthe and his queen attended.
Come to his treasury, a two-ear’d cup
He choos’d of all, and made his son bear up
A silver bowl. The queen then taking stand
Aside her chest, where by her own fair hand
Lay vests of all hues wrought, she took out one
Most large, most artful, chiefly fair, and shone
Like to a star, and lay of all the last.
Then through the house with either’s gift they past;
When to Ulysses’ son Atrides said:
“Telemachus, since so entirely sway’d
Thy thoughts are with thy vow’d return now tender’d,
May Juno’s thund’ring husband see it render’d
Perfect at all parts, action answ’ring thought.
Of all the rich gifts, in my treasure sought,
I give thee here the most in grace and best.
A bowl but silver, yet the brim’s comprest
With gold, whose fabric his desert doth bring
From Vulcan’s hand, presented by the king
And great heroë of Sidonia’s state,
When at our parting he did consummate
His whole house-keeping. This do thou command.”
This said, he put the round bowl in his hand,
And then his strong son Megapenthe plac’d
The silver cup before him, amply grac’d
With work and lustre. Helen (standing by,
And in her hand the robe, her housewifery)
His name rememb’ring, said: “And I present,
Lov’d son, this gift to thee, the monument
Of the so-many-lovéd Helen’s hands,
Which, at the knitting of thy nuptial bands,
Present thy wife. In mean space, may it lie
By thy lov’d mother; but to me apply
Thy pleasure in it, and thus take thy way
To thy fair house, and country’s wishéd stay.”
Thus gave she to his hands the veil, and he
The acceptation author’d joyfully.
Which in the chariot’s chest Pisistratus
Plac’d with the rest, and held miraculous.
The yellow-headed king then led them all
To seats and thrones plac’d in his spacious hall.
The hand-maid water brought, and gave it stream
From out a fair and golden ewer to them,
From whose hands to a silver caldron fled
The troubled wave. A bright board then she spread,
On which another rev’rend dame set bread.
To which more servants store of victuals serv’d.
Eteonëus was the man that kerv’d,
And Megapenthe fill’d them all their wine.
All fed and drank, till all felt care decline
For those refreshings. Both the guests did go
To horse, and coach, and forth the portico
A little issued, when the yellow King
Brought wine himself, that, with an offering
To all the Gods, they might their journey take.
He stood before the Gods, and thus he spake:
“Farewell young Princes! To grave Nestor’s ear
This salutation from my gratitude bear:
That I profess, in all our Ilion wars,
He stood a careful father to my cares.”
To whom the wise Ulyssides replied:
“With all our utmost shall be signified,
Jove-kept Atrides, your right royal will;
And would to God, I could as well fulfill
Mine own mind’s gratitude, for your free grace,
In telling to Ulysses, in the place
Of my return, in what accomplish’d kind
I have obtain’d the office of a friend
At your deservings; whose fair end you crown
With gifts so many, and of such renown!”
His wish, that he might find in his retreat
His father safe return’d (to so repeat
The king’s love to him) was saluted thus:
An eagle rose, and in her seres did truss
A goose, all-white, and huge, a household one,
Which men and women, crying out upon,
Pursued, but she, being near the guests, her flight
Made on their right hand, and kept still fore-right
Before their horses; which observ’d by them,
The spirits in all their minds took joys extreme,
Which Nestor’s son thus question’d: “Jove-kept king, 2
Yield your grave thoughts, if this ostentful thing
(This eagle, and this goose) touch us, or you?”
He put to study, and not knowing how
To give fit answer, Helen took on her
Th’ ostent’s solution, and did this prefer:
“Hear me, and I will play the prophet’s part,
As the Immortals cast it in my heart,
And as, I think, will make the true sense known:
As this Jove’s bird, from out the mountains flown,
(Where was her eyrie, and whence rose her race,)
Truss’d up this goose, that from the house did graze,
So shall Ulysses, coming from the wild
Of seas and suff’rings, reach, unreconcil’d,
His native home, where ev’n this hour he is,
And on those house-fed Wooers those wrongs of his
Will shortly wreak, with all their miseries.”
“O,” said Telemachus, “if Saturnian Jove
To my desires thy dear presage approve,
When I arrive, I will perform to thee
My daily vows, as to a Deity.”
This said, he us’d his scourge upon the horse,
That through the city freely made their course
To field, and all day made that first speed good.
But when the sun set, and obscureness stood
In each man’s way, they ended their access
At Pheras, in the house of Diocles,
Son to Orsilochus, Alphëus’ seed,
Who gave them guest-rites; and sleep’s natural need
They that night served there. When Aurora rose,
They join’d their horse, took coach, and did dispose
Their course for Pylos; whose high city soon
They reach’d. Nor would Telemachus be won
To Nest
or’s house, and therefore order’d thus
His speech to Nestor’s son, Pisistratus:
“How shall I win thy promise to a grace
That I must ask of thee? We both embrace
The names of bed-fellows, and in that name
Will glory as an adjunct of our fame;
Our fathers’ friendship, our own equal age,
And our joint travel, may the more engage
Our mutual concord. Do not then assay,
My God-lov’d friend, to lead me from my way
To my near ship, but take a course direct
And leave me there, lest thy old sire’s respect,
In his desire to love me, hinder so
My way for home, that have such need to go.”
This said, Nestorides held all discourse
In his kind soul, how best he might enforce
Both promise and performance; which, at last;
He vow’d to venture, and directly cast
His horse about to fetch the ship and shore.
Where come, his friends’ most lovely gifts he bore
Aboard the ship, and in her hind-deck plac’d
The veil that Helen’s curious hand had grac’d,
And Menelaus’ gold, and said: “Away,
Nor let thy men, in any least date, stay,
But quite put off, ere I get home, and tell
The old duke, you are past; for passing well
I know his mind to so exceed all force
Of any pray’r, that he will stay your course,
Himself make hither, all your course call back,
And, when he hath you, have no thought to rack
Him from his bounty, and to let you part
Without a present, but be vex’d at heart
With both our pleadings, if we once put move
The least repression of his fiery love.”
Thus took he coach, his fair-man’d steeds scourg’d on
Along the Pylian city, and anon
His father’s court reach’d; while Ulysses’ son
Bade board, and arm; which with a thought was done.
His rowers set, and he rich odours firing
In his hind-deck, for his secure retiring,
To great Athenia, to his ship came flying
A stranger, and a prophet, as relying
On wishéd passage, having newly slain
A man at Argos, yet his race’s vein
Flow’d from Melampus, who in former date
In Pylos liv’d, and had a huge estate,
But fled his country, and the punishing hand
Of great-soul’d Neleus, in a foreign land,
From that most famous mortal, having held
A world of riches, nor could be compell’d
To render restitution in a year.
In mean space, living as close prisoner
In court of Phylacus, and for the sake
Of Neleus’ daughter mighty cares did take,
Together with a grievous languor sent
From grave Erinnys, that did much torment
His vexéd conscience; yet his life’s expence
He scap’d, and drave the loud-voiced oxen thence,
To breed-sheep Pylos, bringing vengeance thus
Her foul demerit to great Neleüs,
And to his brother’s house reduc’d his wife.
Who yet from Pylos did remove his life
For feed-horse Argos, where his fate set down
A dwelling for him, and in much renown
Made govern many Argives, where a spouse
He took to him, and built a famous house.
There had he born to him Antiphates,
And forceful Mantius. To the first of these
Was great Oïcleus born: Oïcleus gat
Amphiaraus, that the popular state
Had all their health in, whom ev’n from his heart
Jove lov’d, and Phœbus in the whole desert
Of friendship held him; yet not bless’d so much
That age’s threshold he did ever touch,
But lost his life by female bribery. 3
Yet two sons author’d his posterity,
Alcmæon, and renown’d Amphilochus.
Mantius had issue Polyphidius,
And Clytus, but Aurora ravish’d him,
For excellence of his admiréd limb,
And interested him amongst the Gods.
His brother knew men’s good and bad abodes
The best of all men, after the decease
Of him that perish’d in unnatural peace
At spacious Thebes. Apollo did inspire
His knowing soul with a prophetic fire.
Who, angry with his father, took his way
To Hyperesia; where, making stay,
He prophesied to all men, and had there
A son call’d Theoclymenus, who here
Came to Telemachus, and found aboard
Himself at sacrifice, whom in a word
He thus saluted: “O friend, since I find,
Ev’n here at ship, a sacrificing mind
Inform your actions, by your sacrifice,
And by that worthy choice of Deities
To whom you offer, by yourself, and all
These men that serve your course maritimal,
Tell one that asks the truth, nor give it glose,
Both who, and whence, you are? From what seed rose
Your royal person? And what city’s tow’rs
Hold habitation to your parents’ pow’rs?”
He answer’d: “Stranger! The sure truth is this:
I am of Ithaca; my father is
(Or was) Ulysses, but austere death now
Takes his state from him; whose event to know
Himself being long away, I set forth thus
With ship and soldiers.” Theoclymenus
As freely said: “And I to thee am fled
From forth my country, for a man struck dead
By my unhappy hand, who was with me
Of one self-tribe, and of his pedigree
Are many friends and brothers, and the sway
Of Achive kindred reacheth far away.
From whom, because I fear their spleens suborn
Blood and black fate against me (being born
To be a wand’rer among foreign men)
Make thy fair ship my rescue, and sustain
My life from slaughter. Thy deservings may
Perform that mercy, and to them I pray.”
“Nor will I bar,” said he, “thy will to make
My means and equal ship thy aid, but take
(With what we have here, in all friendly use)
Thy life from any violence that pursues.”
Thus took he in his lance, and it extended
Aloft the hatches, which himself ascended.
The prince took seat at stern, on his right hand
Set Theoclymenus, and gave command
To all his men to arm, and see made fast
Amidst the hollow keel the beechen mast
With able halsers, hoise sail, launch; which soon
He saw obey’d. And then his ship did run
A merry course; blue-eyed Minerva sent
A fore-right gale, tumultuous, vehement,
Along the air, that her way’s utmost yield
The ship might make, and plough the brackish field.
Then set the sun, and night black’d all the ways.
The sh
ip, with Jove’s wind wing’d, where th’ Epian sways,
Fetch’d Pheras first, then Elis the divine,
And then for those isles made, that sea-ward shine
For form and sharpness like a lance’s head,
About which lay the Wooers ambushéd;
On which he rush’d, to try if he could ‘scape
His plotted death, or serve her treach’rous rape.
And now return we to Eumæus’ shed,
Where, at their food with others marshalléd,
Ulysses and his noble herdsman sate.
To try if whose love’s curious estate
Stood firm to his abode, or felt it fade,
And so would take each best cause to persuade
His guest to town, Ulysses thus contends:
“Hear me, Eumæus, and ye other friends.
Next morn to town I covet to be gone,
To beg some others’ alms, not still charge one.
Advise me well then, and as well provide
I may be fitted with an honest guide,
For through the streets, since need will have it so,
I’ll tread, to try if any will bestow
A dish of drink on me, or bit of bread,
Till to Ulysses’ house I may be led;
And there I’ll tell all-wise Penelope news,
Mix with the Wooers’ pride, and, since they use
To fare above the full, their hands excite
To some small feast from out their infinite:
For which, I’ll wait, and play the servingman,
Fairly enough, command the most they can.
For I will tell thee, note me well, and hear,
That, if the will be of Heav’n’s Messenger,
(Who to the works of men, of any sort,
Can grace infuse, and glory) nothing short
Am I of him, that doth to most aspire
In any service, as to build a fire,
To cleave sere wood, to roast or boil their meat,
To wait at board, mix wine, or know the neat,
Or any work, in which the poor-call’d worst
To serve the rich-call’d best in Fate are forc’d.”
He, angry with him, said: “Alas, poor guest,
Why did this counsel ever touch thy breast?
Thou seek’st thy utter spoil beyond all doubt,
If thou giv’st venture on the Wooers’ rout,
Whose wrong and force affects the iron heav’n,
Their light delights are far from being giv’n
To such grave servitors. Youths richly trick’d
In coats or cassocks, locks divinely slick’d,
And looks most rapting, ever have the gift
The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman Page 142