He ceas’d; at whose reply Eumæus sought
Again the Queen, but ere he yet had pass’d 690
The threshold, thus she greeted his return.
Com’st thou alone, Eumæus? why delays
The invited wand’rer? dreads he other harm?
Or sees he aught that with a bashful awe
Fills him? the bashful poor are poor indeed.
To whom, Eumæus, thou didst thus reply.
He hath well spoken; none who would decline
The rudeness of this contumelious throng
Could answer otherwise; thee he entreats
To wait till sun-set, and that course, O Queen, 700
Thou shalt thyself far more commodious find,
To hold thy conf’rence with the guest, alone.
Then answer thus Penelope return’d.
The stranger, I perceive, is not unwise,
Whoe’er he be, for on the earth are none
Proud, insolent, and profligate as these.
So spake the Queen. Then (all his message told)
The good Eumæus to the suitors went
Again, and with his head inclined toward
Telemachus, lest others should his words 710
Witness, in accents wing’d him thus address’d.
Friend and kind master! I return to keep
My herds, and to attend my rural charge,
Whence we are both sustain’d. Keep thou, meantime,
All here with vigilance, but chiefly watch
For thy own good, and save thyself from harm;
For num’rous here brood mischief, whom the Gods
Exterminate, ere yet their plots prevail!
To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.
So be it, father! and (thy evening-mess 720
Eaten) depart; to-morrow come again,
Bringing fair victims hither; I will keep,
I and the Gods, meantime, all here secure.
He ended; then resumed once more the swain
His polish’d seat, and, both with wine and food
Now satiate, to his charge return’d, the court
Leaving and all the palace throng’d with guests;
They (for it now was evening) all alike
Turn’d jovial to the song and to the dance.
BOOK XVIII
ARGUMENT
The beggar Irus arrives at the palace; a combat takes place between him
and Ulysses, in which Irus is by one blow vanquished. Penelope appears to
the suitors, and having reminded them of the presents which she had a
right to expect from them, receives a gift from each. Eurymachus,
provoked by a speech of Ulysses, flings a foot-stool at him, which knocks
down the cup-bearer; a general tumult is the consequence, which
continues, till by the advice of Telemachus, seconded by Amphinomus, the
suitors retire to their respective homes.
Now came a public mendicant, a man
Accustom’d, seeking alms, to roam the streets
Of Ithaca; one never sated yet
With food or drink; yet muscle had he none,
Or strength of limb, though giant-built in show.
Arnæus was the name which at his birth
His mother gave him, but the youthful band
Of suitors, whom as messenger he served,
All named him Irus. He, arriving, sought
To drive Ulysses forth from his own home, 10
And in rough accents rude him thus rebuked.
Forth from the porch, old man! lest by the foot
I drag thee quickly forth. Seest not how all
Wink on me, and by signs give me command
To drag thee hence? nor is it aught but shame
That checks me. Yet arise, lest soon with fists
Thou force me to adjust our diff’rence.
To whom Ulysses, low’ring dark, replied.
Peace, fellow! neither word nor deed of mine
Wrongs thee, nor feel I envy at the boon, 20
However plentiful, which thou receiv’st.
The sill may hold us both; thou dost not well
To envy others; thou appear’st like me
A vagrant; plenty is the gift of heav’n.
But urge me not to trial of our fists,
Lest thou provoke me, and I stain with blood
Thy bosom and thy lips, old as I am.
So, my attendance should to-morrow prove
More tranquil here; for thou should’st leave, I judge,
Ulysses’ mansion, never to return. 30
Then answer’d Irus, kindling with disdain.
Gods! with what volubility of speech
The table-hunter prates, like an old hag
Collied with chimney-smutch! but ah beware!
For I intend thee mischief, and to dash
With both hands ev’ry grinder from thy gums,
As men untooth a pig pilf’ring the corn.
Come — gird thee, that all here may view the strife —
But how wilt thou oppose one young as I?
Thus on the threshold of the lofty gate 40
They, wrangling, chafed each other, whose dispute
The high-born youth Antinoüs mark’d; he laugh’d
Delighted, and the suitors thus address’d.
Oh friends! no pastime ever yet occurr’d
Pleasant as this which, now, the Gods themselves
Afford us. Irus and the stranger brawl
As they would box. Haste — let us urge them on.
He said; at once loud-laughing all arose;
The ill-clad disputants they round about
Encompass’d, and Antinoüs thus began. 50
Attend ye noble suitors to my voice.
Two paunches lie of goats here on the fire,
Which fill’d with fat and blood we set apart
For supper; he who conquers, and in force
Superior proves, shall freely take the paunch
Which he prefers, and shall with us thenceforth
Feast always; neither will we here admit
Poor man beside to beg at our repasts.
He spake, whom all approved; next, artful Chief
Ulysses thus, dissembling, them address’d. 60
Princes! unequal is the strife between
A young man and an old with mis’ry worn;
But hunger, always counsellor of ill,
Me moves to fight, that many a bruise received,
I may be foil’d at last. Now swear ye all
A solemn oath, that none, for Irus’ sake
Shall, interposing, smite me with his fist
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,
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
William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 177