That thou should’st greet thy father with a face
Of wild astonishment, and stand aghast.
Ulysses, save myself, none comes, be sure.
Such as thou seest, after ten thousand woes
Which I have borne, I visit once again
My native country in the twentieth year.
This wonder Athenæan Pallas wrought,
She cloath’d me even with what form she would,
For so she can. Now poor I seem and old, 250
Now young again, and clad in fresh attire.
The Gods who dwell in yonder heav’n, with ease
Dignify or debase a mortal man.
So saying, he sat. Then threw Telemachus
His arms around his father’s neck, and wept.
Desire intense of lamentation seized
On both; soft murmurs utt’ring, each indulged
His grief, more frequent wailing than the bird,
(Eagle, or hook-nail’d vulture) from whose nest
Some swain hath stol’n her yet unfeather’d young. 260
So from their eyelids they big drops distill’d
Of tend’rest grief, nor had the setting sun
Cessation of their weeping seen, had not
Telemachus his father thus address’d.
What ship convey’d thee to thy native shore,
My father! and what country boast the crew?
For, that on foot thou not arriv’dst, is sure.
Then thus divine Ulysses toil-inured.
My son! I will explicit all relate.
Conducted by Phæacia’s maritime sons 270
I came, a race accustom’d to convey
Strangers who visit them across the Deep.
Me, o’er the billows in a rapid bark
Borne sleeping, on the shores of Ithaca
They lay’d; rich gifts they gave me also, brass,
Gold in full bags, and beautiful attire,
Which, warn’d from heav’n, I have in caves conceal’d.
By Pallas prompted, hither I repair’d
That we might plan the slaughter of our foes,
Whose numbers tell me now, that I may know 280
How pow’rful, certainly, and who they are,
And consultation with my dauntless heart
May hold, if we be able to contend
Ourselves with all, or must have aid beside.
Then, answer thus his son, discrete, return’d.
My father! thy renown hath ever rung
In thy son’s ears, and by report thy force
In arms, and wisdom I have oft been told.
But terribly thou speak’st; amazement-fixt
I hear; can two a multitude oppose, 290
And valiant warriors all? for neither ten
Are they, nor twenty, but more num’rous far.
Learn, now, their numbers. Fifty youths and two
Came from Dulichium; they are chosen men,
And six attendants follow in their train;
From Samos twenty youths and four arrive,
Zacynthus also of Achaia’s sons
Sends twenty more, and our own island adds,
Herself, her twelve chief rulers; Medon, too,
Is there the herald, and the bard divine, 300
With other two, intendants of the board.
Should we within the palace, we alone,
Assail them all, I fear lest thy revenge
Unpleasant to thyself and deadly prove,
Frustrating thy return. But recollect —
Think, if thou canst, on whose confed’rate arm
Strenuous on our behalf we may rely.
To him replied his patient father bold.
I will inform thee. Mark. Weigh well my words.
Will Pallas and the everlasting Sire 310
Alone suffice? or need we other aids?
Then answer thus Telemachus return’d.
Good friends indeed are they whom thou hast named,
Though throned above the clouds; for their controul
Is universal both in earth and heav’n.
To whom Ulysses, toil-worn Chief renown’d.
Not long will they from battle stand aloof,
When once, within my palace, in the strength
Of Mars, to sharp decision we shall urge
The suitors. But thyself at early dawn 320
Our mansion seek, that thou may’st mingle there
With that imperious throng; me in due time
Eumæus to the city shall conduct,
In form a miserable beggar old.
But should they with dishonourable scorn
Insult me, thou unmov’d my wrongs endure,
And should they even drag me by the feet
Abroad, or smite me with the spear, thy wrath
Refraining, gently counsel them to cease
From such extravagance; but well I know 330
That cease they will not, for their hour is come.
And mark me well; treasure what now I say
Deep in thy soul. When Pallas shall, herself,
Suggest the measure, then, shaking my brows,
I will admonish thee; thou, at the sign,
Remove what arms soever in the hall
Remain, and in the upper palace safe
Dispose them; should the suitors, missing them,
Perchance interrogate thee, then reply
Gently — I have removed them from the smoke; 340
For they appear no more the arms which erst
Ulysses, going hence to Ilium, left,
But smirch’d and sullied by the breath of fire.
This weightier reason (thou shalt also say)
Jove taught me; lest, intoxicate with wine,
Ye should assault each other in your brawls,
Shaming both feast and courtship; for the view
Itself of arms incites to their abuse.
Yet leave two faulchions for ourselves alone,
Two spears, two bucklers, which with sudden force 350
Impetuous we will seize, and Jove all-wise
Their valour shall, and Pallas, steal away.
This word store also in remembrance deep —
If mine in truth thou art, and of my blood,
Then, of Ulysses to his home returned
Let none hear news from thee, no, not my sire
Laertes, nor Eumæus, nor of all
The menials any, or ev’n Penelope,
That thou and I, alone, may search the drift
Of our domestic women, and may prove 360
Our serving-men, who honours and reveres
And who contemns us both, but chiefly thee
So gracious and so worthy to be loved.
Him then thus answer’d his illustrious son.
Trust me, my father! thou shalt soon be taught
That I am not of drowsy mind obtuse.
But this I think not likely to avail
Or thee or me; ponder it yet again;
For tedious were the task, farm after farm
To visit of those servants, proving each, 370
And the proud suitors merciless devour
Meantime thy substance, nor abstain from aught.
Learn, if thou wilt, (and I that course myself
Advise) who slights thee of the female train,
And who is guiltless; but I would not try
From house to house the men, far better proved
Hereafter, if in truth by signs from heav’n
Inform’d, thou hast been taught the will of Jove.
Thus they conferr’d. The gallant bark, meantime,
Reach’d Ithaca, which from the Pylian shore 380
Had brought Telemachus with all his band.
Within the many-fathom’d port arrived
His lusty followers haled her far aground,
Then carried thence their arms, but to the house
Of Clytius the illustrious gifts convey’d.
An herald charg’d with tidings to the Queen,
That her Telemachus had reach’d the cot
Of good Eumæus, and the bark had sent
Home to the city; lest the matchless dame 390
Should still deplore the absence of her son.
They, then, the herald and the swine-herd, each
Bearing like message to his mistress, met,
And at the palace of the godlike Chief
Arriving, compass’d by the female throng
Inquisitive, the herald thus began.
Thy son, O Queen! is safe; ev’n now return’d.
Then, drawing nigh to her, Eumæus told
His message also from her son received,
And, his commission punctually discharged, 400
Leaving the palace, sought his home again.
Grief seized and anguish, at those tidings, all
The suitors; issuing forth, on the outside
Of the high wall they sat, before the gate,
When Polybus’ son, Eurymachus, began.
My friends! his arduous task, this voyage, deem’d
By us impossible, in our despight
Telemachus hath atchieved. Haste! launch we forth
A sable bark, our best, which let us man
With mariners expert, who, rowing forth 410
Swiftly, shall summon our companions home.
Scarce had he said, when turning where he sat,
Amphinomus beheld a bark arrived
Just then in port; he saw them furling sail,
And seated with their oars in hand; he laugh’d
Through pleasure at that sight, and thus he spake.
Our message may be spared. Lo! they arrive.
Either some God inform’d them, or they saw,
Themselves, the vessel of Telemachus
Too swiftly passing to be reach’d by theirs. 420
He spake; they, rising, hasted to the shore.
Alert they drew the sable bark aground,
And by his servant each his arms dispatch’d
To his own home. Then, all, to council those
Assembling, neither elder of the land
Nor youth allow’d to join them, and the rest
Eupithes’ son, Antinoüs, thus bespake.
Ah! how the Gods have rescued him! all day
Perch’d on the airy mountain-top, our spies
Successive watch’d; and, when the sun declined, 430
We never slept on shore, but all night long
Till sacred dawn arose, plow’d the abyss,
Hoping Telemachus, that we might seize
And slay him, whom some Deity hath led,
In our despight, safe to his home again.
But frame we yet again means to destroy
Telemachus; ah — let not Him escape!
For end of this our task, while he survives,
None shall be found, such prudence he displays
And wisdom, neither are the people now 440
Unanimous our friends as heretofore.
Come, then — prevent him, ere he call the Greeks
To council; for he will not long delay,
But will be angry, doubtless, and will tell
Amid them all, how we in vain devised
His death, a deed which they will scarce applaud,
But will, perhaps, punish and drive us forth
From our own country to a distant land. —
Prevent him, therefore, quickly; in the field
Slay him, or on the road; so shall his wealth 450
And his possessions on ourselves devolve
Which we will share equally, but his house
Shall be the Queen’s, and his whom she shall wed.
Yet, if not so inclined, ye rather chuse
That he should live and occupy entire
His patrimony, then, no longer, here
Assembled, let us revel at his cost,
But let us all with spousal gifts produced
From our respective treasures, woo the Queen,
Leaving her in full freedom to espouse 460
Who proffers most, and whom the fates ordain.
He ceased; the assembly silent sat and mute.
Then rose Amphinomus amid them all,
Offspring renown’d of Nisus, son, himself,
Of King Aretias. He had thither led
The suitor train who from the pleasant isle
Corn-clad of green Dulichium had arrived,
And by his speech pleased far beyond them all
Penelope, for he was just and wise,
And thus, well-counselling the rest, began. 470
Not I, my friends! far be the thought from me
To slay Telemachus! it were a deed
Momentous, terrible, to slay a prince.
First, therefore, let us counsel ask of heav’n,
And if Jove’s oracle that course approve,
I will encourage you, and will myself
Be active in his death; but if the Gods
Forbid it, then, by my advice, forbear.
So spake Amphinomus, whom all approved.
Arising then, into Ulysses’ house 480
They went, where each his splendid seat resumed.
A novel purpose occupied, meantime,
Penelope; she purposed to appear
Before her suitors, whose design to slay
Telemachus she had from Medon learn’d,
The herald, for his ear had caught the sound.
Toward the hall with her attendant train
She moved, and when, most graceful of her sex,
Where sat the suitors she arrived, between
The columns standing of the stately dome, 490
And covering with her white veil’s lucid folds
Her features, to Antinoüs thus she spake.
Antinoüs, proud, contentious, evermore
To mischief prone! the people deem thee wise
Past thy compeers, and in all grace of speech
Pre-eminent, but such wast never thou.
Inhuman! why is it thy dark design
To slay Telemachus? and why with scorn
Rejectest thou the suppliant’s pray’r, which Jove
Himself hath witness’d? Plots please not the Gods. 500
Know’st not that thy own father refuge found
Here, when he fled before the people’s wrath
Whom he had irritated by a wrong
Which, with a band of Taphian robbers joined,
He offer’d to the Thesprots, our allies?
They would have torn his heart, and would have laid
All his delights and his possessions waste,
But my Ulysses slaked the furious heat
Of their revenge, whom thou requitest now
Wasting his goods, soliciting his wife, 510
Slaying his son, and filling me with woe.
But cease, I charge thee, and bid cease the rest.
To whom the son of Polybus replied,
Eurymachus. — Icarius’ daughter wise!
Take courage, fair Penelope, and chace
These fears unreasonable from thy mind!
The man lives not, nor shall, who while I live,
And faculty of sight retain, shall harm
Telemachus, thy son. For thus I say,
And thus will I perform; his blood shall stream 520
A sable current from my lance’s point
That moment; for the city-waster Chief
Ulysses, oft, me placing on his knees,
Hath fill’d my infant grasp with sav’ry food,
And giv’n me ruddy wine. I, therefore, hold
Telemachus of all men most my friend,
Nor hath he death to fear from hand of ours.
Yet, if the Gods shall doom him, die he must.
So he encouraged her, who yet, himself,
Plotted his death. She, re-ascend
ing, sought 530
Her stately chamber, and, arriving there,
Deplored with tears her long-regretted Lord
Till Athenæan Pallas azure-eyed
Dews of soft slumber o’er her lids diffused.
And now, at even-tide, Eumæus reach’d
Ulysses and his son. A yearling swine
Just slain they skilfully for food prepared,
When Pallas, drawing nigh, smote with her wand
Ulysses, at the stroke rend’ring him old,
And his apparel sordid as before, 540
Lest, knowing him, the swain at once should seek
Penelope, and let the secret forth.
Then foremost him Telemachus address’d.
Noble Eumæus! thou art come; what news
Bring’st from the city? Have the warrior band
Of suitors, hopeless of their ambush, reach’d
The port again, or wait they still for me?
To whom Eumæus, thou didst thus reply.
No time for such enquiry, nor to range,
Curious, the streets had I, but anxious wish’d 550
To make my message known, and to return.
But, as it chanced, a nimble herald sent
From thy companions, met me on the way,
Who reach’d thy mother first. Yet this I know,
For this I saw. Passing above the town
Where they have piled a way-side hill of stones
To Mercury, I beheld a gallant bark
Ent’ring the port; a bark she was of ours,
The crew were num’rous, and I mark’d her deep-
Laden with shields and spears of double edge. 560
Theirs I conjectured her, and could no more.
He spake, and by Eumæus unperceived,
Telemachus his father eyed and smiled.
Their task accomplish’d, and the table spread,
They ate, nor any his due portion miss’d,
And hunger, now, and thirst both sated, all
To rest repair’d, and took the gift of sleep.
BOOK XVII
ARGUMENT
Telemachus returns to the city, and relates to his mother the principal
passages of his voyage; Ulysses, conducted by Eumæus, arrives there also,
and enters among the suitors, having been known only by his old dog
Argus, who dies at his feet. The curiosity of Penelope being excited by
the account which Eumæus gives her of Ulysses, she orders him immediately
into her presence, but Ulysses postpones the interview till evening, when
the suitors having left the palace, there shall be no danger of
interruption. Eumæus returns to his cottage.
Now look’d Aurora from the East abroad,
When the illustrious offspring of divine
Ulysses bound his sandals to his feet;
He seiz’d his sturdy spear match’d to his gripe,
William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 174