by Homer
Flaying the victims which myself had slain,
To burn them, and to supplicate in pray’r
Illustrious Pluto and dread Proserpine.
Then down I sat, and with drawn faulchion chased
The ghosts, nor suffer’d them to approach the blood,
Till with Tiresias I should first confer.
The spirit, first, of my companion came,
Elpenor; for no burial honours yet
Had he received, but we had left his corse
In Circe’s palace, tombless, undeplored, 60
Ourselves by pressure urged of other cares.
Touch’d with compassion seeing him, I wept,
And in wing’d accents brief him thus bespake.
Elpenor! how cam’st thou into the realms
Of darkness? Hast thou, though on foot, so far
Outstripp’d my speed, who in my bark arrived?
So I, to whom with tears he thus replied.
Laertes’ noble son, for wiles renown’d!
Fool’d by some dæmon and the intemp’rate bowl,
I perish’d in the house of Circe; there 70
The deep-descending steps heedless I miss’d,
And fell precipitated from the roof.
With neck-bone broken from the vertebræ
Outstretch’d I lay; my spirit sought the shades.
But now, by those whom thou hast left at home,
By thy Penelope, and by thy fire,
The gentle nourisher of thy infant growth,
And by thy only son Telemachus
I make my suit to thee. For, sure, I know
That from the house of Pluto safe return’d, 80
Thou shalt ere long thy gallant vessel moor
At the Ææan isle. Ah! there arrived
Remember me. Leave me not undeplored
Nor uninhumed, lest, for my sake, the Gods
In vengeance visit thee; but with my arms
(What arms soe’er I left) burn me, and raise
A kind memorial of me on the coast,
Heap’d high with earth; that an unhappy man
May yet enjoy an unforgotten name.
Thus do at my request, and on my hill 90
Funereal, plant the oar with which I row’d,
While yet I lived a mariner of thine.
He spake, to whom thus answer I return’d.
Poor youth! I will perform thy whole desire.
Thus we, there sitting, doleful converse held,
With outstretch’d faulchion, I, guarding the blood,
And my companion’s shadowy semblance sad
Meantime discoursing me on various themes.
The soul of my departed mother, next,
Of Anticleia came, daughter of brave 100
Autolycus; whom, when I sought the shores
Of Ilium, I had living left at home.
Seeing her, with compassion touch’d, I wept,
Yet even her, (although it pain’d my soul)
Forbad, relentless, to approach the blood,
Till with Tiresias I should first confer.
Then came the spirit of the Theban seer
Himself, his golden sceptre in his hand,
Who knew me, and, enquiring, thus began.
Why, hapless Chief! leaving the cheerful day, 110
Arriv’st thou to behold the dead, and this
Unpleasant land? but, from the trench awhile
Receding, turn thy faulchion keen away,
That I may drink the blood, and tell thee truth.
He spake; I thence receding, deep infix’d
My sword bright-studded in the sheath again.
The noble prophet then, approaching, drank
The blood, and, satisfied, address’d me thus.
Thou seek’st a pleasant voyage home again,
Renown’d Ulysses! but a God will make 120
That voyage difficult; for, as I judge,
Thou wilt not pass by Neptune unperceiv’d,
Whose anger follows thee, for that thou hast
Deprived his son Cyclops of his eye.
At length, however, after num’rous woes
Endur’d, thou may’st attain thy native isle,
If thy own appetite thou wilt controul
And theirs who follow thee, what time thy bark
Well-built, shall at Thrinacia’s shore arrive,
Escaped from perils of the gloomy Deep. 130
There shall ye find grazing the flocks and herds
Of the all-seeing and all-hearing Sun,
Which, if attentive to thy safe return,
Thou leave unharm’d, though after num’rous woes,
Ye may at length arrive in Ithaca.
But if thou violate them, I denounce
Destruction on thy ship and all thy band,
And though thyself escape, late shalt thou reach
Thy home and hard-bested, in a strange bark,
All thy companions lost; trouble beside 140
Awaits thee there, for thou shalt find within
Proud suitors of thy noble wife, who waste
Thy substance, and with promis’d spousal gifts
Ceaseless solicit her to wed; yet well
Shalt thou avenge all their injurious deeds.
That once perform’d, and ev’ry suitor slain
Either by stratagem, or face to face,
In thy own palace, bearing, as thou go’st,
A shapely oar, journey, till thou hast found
A people who the sea know not, nor eat 150
Food salted; they trim galley crimson prow’d
Have ne’er beheld, nor yet smooth-shaven oar,
With which the vessel wing’d scuds o’er the waves.
Well thou shalt know them; this shall be the sign —
When thou shalt meet a trav’ler, who shall name
The oar on thy broad shoulder borne, a van,
There, deep infixing it within the soil,
Worship the King of Ocean with a bull,
A ram, and a lascivious boar, then seek
Thy home again, and sacrifice at home 160
An hecatomb to the Immortal Gods,
Adoring each duly, and in his course.
So shalt thou die in peace a gentle death,
Remote from Ocean; it shall find thee late,
In soft serenity of age, the Chief
Of a blest people. — I have told thee truth.
He spake, to whom I answer thus return’d.
Tiresias! thou, I doubt not, hast reveal’d
The ordinance of heav’n. But tell me, Seer!
And truly. I behold my mother’s shade; 170
Silent she sits beside the blood, nor word
Nor even look vouchsafes to her own son.
How shall she learn, prophet, that I am her’s?
So I, to whom Tiresias quick replied.
The course is easy. Learn it, taught by me.
What shade soe’er, by leave of thee obtain’d,
Shall taste the blood, that shade will tell thee truth;
The rest, prohibited, will all retire.
When thus the spirit of the royal Seer
Had his prophetic mind reveal’d, again 180
He enter’d Pluto’s gates; but I unmoved
Still waited till my mother’s shade approach’d;
She drank the blood, then knew me, and in words
Wing’d with affection, plaintive, thus began.
My son! how hast thou enter’d, still alive,
This darksome region? Difficult it is
For living man to view the realms of death.
Broad rivers roll, and awful floods between,
But chief, the Ocean, which to pass on foot,
Or without ship, impossible is found. 190
Hast thou, long wand’ring in thy voyage home
From Ilium, with thy ship and crew arrived,
Ithaca and thy consort yet unseen?
She s
pake, to whom this answer I return’d.
My mother! me necessity constrain’d
To Pluto’s dwelling, anxious to consult
Theban Tiresias; for I have not yet
Approach’d Achaia, nor have touch’d the shore
Of Ithaca, but suff’ring ceaseless woe
Have roam’d, since first in Agamemnon’s train 200
I went to combat with the sons of Troy.
But speak, my mother, and the truth alone;
What stroke of fate slew thee? Fell’st thou a prey
To some slow malady? or by the shafts
Of gentle Dian suddenly subdued?
Speak to me also of my ancient Sire,
And of Telemachus, whom I left at home;
Possess I still unalienate and safe
My property, or hath some happier Chief
Admittance free into my fortunes gain’d, 210
No hope subsisting more of my return?
The mind and purpose of my wedded wife
Declare thou also. Dwells she with our son
Faithful to my domestic interests,
Or is she wedded to some Chief of Greece?
I ceas’d, when thus the venerable shade.
Not so; she faithful still and patient dwells
Thy roof beneath; but all her days and nights
Devoting sad to anguish and to tears.
Thy fortunes still are thine; Telemachus 220
Cultivates, undisturb’d, thy land, and sits
At many a noble banquet, such as well
Beseems the splendour of his princely state,
For all invite him; at his farm retired
Thy father dwells, nor to the city comes,
For aught; nor bed, nor furniture of bed,
Furr’d cloaks or splendid arras he enjoys,
But, with his servile hinds all winter sleeps
In ashes and in dust at the hearth-side,
Coarsely attired; again, when summer comes, 230
Or genial autumn, on the fallen leaves
In any nook, not curious where, he finds
There, stretch’d forlorn, nourishing grief, he weeps
Thy lot, enfeebled now by num’rous years.
So perish’d I; such fate I also found;
Me, neither the right-aiming arch’ress struck,
Diana, with her gentle shafts, nor me
Distemper slew, my limbs by slow degrees
But sure, bereaving of their little life, 240
But long regret, tender solicitude,
And recollection of thy kindness past,
These, my Ulysses! fatal proved to me.
She said; I, ardent wish’d to clasp the shade
Of my departed mother; thrice I sprang
Toward her, by desire impetuous urged,
And thrice she flitted from between my arms,
Light as a passing shadow or a dream.
Then, pierced by keener grief, in accents wing’d
With filial earnestness I thus replied. 250
My mother, why elud’st thou my attempt
To clasp thee, that ev’n here, in Pluto’s realm,
We might to full satiety indulge
Our grief, enfolded in each other’s arms?
Hath Proserpine, alas! only dispatch’d
A shadow to me, to augment my woe?
Then, instant, thus the venerable form.
Ah, son! thou most afflicted of mankind!
On thee, Jove’s daughter, Proserpine, obtrudes
No airy semblance vain; but such the state 260
And nature is of mortals once deceased.
For they nor muscle have, nor flesh, nor bone;
All those (the spirit from the body once
Divorced) the violence of fire consumes,
And, like a dream, the soul flies swift away.
But haste thou back to light, and, taught thyself
These sacred truths, hereafter teach thy spouse.
Thus mutual we conferr’d. Then, thither came,
Encouraged forth by royal Proserpine,
Shades female num’rous, all who consorts, erst, 270
Or daughters were of mighty Chiefs renown’d.
About the sable blood frequent they swarm’d.
But I, consid’ring sat, how I might each
Interrogate, and thus resolv’d. My sword
Forth drawing from beside my sturdy thigh,
Firm I prohibited the ghosts to drink
The blood together; they successive came;
Each told her own distress; I question’d all.
There, first, the high-born Tyro I beheld;
She claim’d Salmoneus as her sire, and wife 280
Was once of Cretheus, son of Æolus.
Enamour’d of Enipeus, stream divine,
Loveliest of all that water earth, beside
His limpid current she was wont to stray,
When Ocean’s God, (Enipeus’ form assumed)
Within the eddy-whirling river’s mouth
Embraced her; there, while the o’er-arching flood,
Uplifted mountainous, conceal’d the God
And his fair human bride, her virgin zone
He loos’d, and o’er her eyes sweet sleep diffused. 290
His am’rous purpose satisfied, he grasp’d
Her hand, affectionate, and thus he said.
Rejoice in this my love, and when the year
Shall tend to consummation of its course,
Thou shalt produce illustrious twins, for love
Immortal never is unfruitful love.
Rear them with all a mother’s care; meantime,
Hence to thy home. Be silent. Name it not.
For I am Neptune, Shaker of the shores.
So saying, he plunged into the billowy Deep. 300
She pregnant grown, Pelias and Neleus bore,
Both, valiant ministers of mighty Jove.
In wide-spread Iäolchus Pelias dwelt,
Of num’rous flocks possess’d; but his abode
Amid the sands of Pylus Neleus chose.
To Cretheus wedded next, the lovely nymph
Yet other sons, Æson and Pheres bore,
And Amythaon of equestrian fame.
I, next, the daughter of Asopus saw,
Antiope; she gloried to have known 310
Th’ embrace of Jove himself, to whom she brought
A double progeny, Amphion named
And Zethus; they the seven-gated Thebes
Founded and girded with strong tow’rs, because,
Though puissant Heroes both, in spacious Thebes
Unfenced by tow’rs, they could not dwell secure.
Alcmena, next, wife of Amphitryon
I saw; she in the arms of sov’reign Jove
The lion-hearted Hercules conceiv’d,
And, after, bore to Creon brave in fight 320
His daughter Megara, by the noble son
Unconquer’d of Amphitryon espoused.
The beauteous Epicaste saw I then,
Mother of Oedipus, who guilt incurr’d
Prodigious, wedded, unintentional,
To her own son; his father first he slew,
Then wedded her, which soon the Gods divulged.
He, under vengeance of offended heav’n,
In pleasant Thebes dwelt miserable, King
Of the Cadmean race; she to the gates 330
Of Ades brazen-barr’d despairing went,
Self-strangled by a cord fasten’d aloft
To her own palace-roof, and woes bequeath’d
(Such as the Fury sisters execute
Innumerable) to her guilty son.
There also saw I Chloris, loveliest fair,
Whom Neleus woo’d and won with spousal gifts
Inestimable, by her beauty charm’d
She youngest daughter was of Iasus’ son,
Amphion, in old time a sov’reign prince 340
In Minuëian Orc
homenus,
And King of Pylus. Three illustrious sons
She bore to Neleus, Nestor, Chromius,
And Periclymenus the wide-renown’d,
And, last, produced a wonder of the earth,
Pero, by ev’ry neighbour prince around
In marriage sought; but Neleus her on none
Deign’d to bestow, save only on the Chief
Who should from Phylace drive off the beeves
(Broad-fronted, and with jealous care secured) 350
Of valiant Iphicles. One undertook
That task alone, a prophet high in fame,
Melampus; but the Fates fast bound him there
In rig’rous bonds by rustic hands imposed.
At length (the year, with all its months and days
Concluded, and the new-born year begun)
Illustrious Iphicles releas’d the seer,
Grateful for all the oracles resolved,
Till then obscure. So stood the will of Jove.
Next, Leda, wife of Tyndarus I saw, 360
Who bore to Tyndarus a noble pair,
Castor the bold, and Pollux cestus-famed.
They pris’ners in the fertile womb of earth,
Though living, dwell, and even there from Jove
High priv’lege gain; alternate they revive
And die, and dignity partake divine.
The comfort of Aloëus, next, I view’d,
Iphimedeia; she th’ embrace profess’d
Of Neptune to have shared, to whom she bore
Two sons; short-lived they were, but godlike both, 370
Otus and Ephialtes far-renown’d.
Orion sole except, all-bounteous Earth
Ne’er nourish’d forms for beauty or for size
To be admired as theirs; in his ninth year
Each measur’d, broad, nine cubits, and the height
Was found nine ells of each. Against the Gods
Themselves they threaten’d war, and to excite
The din of battle in the realms above.
To the Olympian summit they essay’d
To heave up Ossa, and to Ossa’s crown 380
Branch-waving Pelion; so to climb the heav’ns.
Nor had they failed, maturer grown in might,
To accomplish that emprize, but them the son
Of radiant-hair’d Latona and of Jove
Slew both, ere yet the down of blooming youth
Thick-sprung, their cheeks or chins had tufted o’er.
Phædra I also there, and Procris saw,
And Ariadne for her beauty praised,
Whose sire was all-wise Minos. Theseus her
From Crete toward the fruitful region bore 390
Of sacred Athens, but enjoy’d not there,
For, first, she perish’d by Diana’s shafts
In Dia, Bacchus witnessing her crime.
Mæra and Clymene I saw beside,
And odious Eriphyle, who received
The price in gold of her own husband’s life.