{"id":130,"date":"2021-05-26T09:19:26","date_gmt":"2021-05-26T13:19:26","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.ryerson.ca\/odyssey\/chapter\/book-xxiv\/"},"modified":"2022-02-01T10:55:10","modified_gmt":"2022-02-01T15:55:10","slug":"24","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/chapter\/24\/","title":{"raw":"Book XXIV","rendered":"Book XXIV"},"content":{"raw":"

Argument<\/b><\/h2>\r\nMercury conducts the souls of the suitors down to Ades. Ulysses discovers himself to Laertes, and quells, by the aid of Minerva, an insurrection of the people resenting the death of the suitors.\r\n\r\nAnd now Cyllenian Hermes summon\u2019d forth\r\nThe spirits of the suitors; waving wide\r\nThe golden wand of pow\u2019r to seal all eyes\r\nIn slumber, and to ope them wide again,\r\nHe drove them gibb\u2019ring down into the shades,[footnote]\u03a4\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u2014\u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u1fe6\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u2014the ghosts\r\nDid squeak and gibber in the Roman streets.\r\nShakspeare.[\/footnote]<\/sup>\r\nAs when the bats within some hallow\u2019d cave\r\nFlit squeaking all around, for if but one\r\nFall from the rock, the rest all follow him,\r\nIn such connexion mutual they adhere,\r\nSo, after bounteous Mercury, the ghosts,\r\nTroop\u2019d downward gibb\u2019ring all the dreary way.[footnote]See above.[\/footnote]\r\nThe Ocean\u2019s flood and the Leucadian rock,\r\nThe Sun\u2019s gate also and the land of Dreams\r\nThey pass\u2019d, whence, next, into the meads they came\r\nOf Asphodel, by shadowy forms possess\u2019d,\r\nSimulars of the dead. They found the souls\r\nOf brave Pelides there, and of his friend\r\nPatroclus, of Antilochus renown\u2019d,\r\nAnd of the mightier Ajax, for his form\r\nAnd bulk (Achilles sole except) of all\r\nThe sons of the Achaians most admired.\r\nThese waited on Achilles. Then, appear\u2019d\r\nThe mournful ghost of Agamemnon, son\r\nOf Atreus, compass\u2019d by the ghosts of all\r\nWho shared his fate beneath \u00c6gisthus\u2019 roof,\r\nAnd him the ghost of Peleus\u2019 son bespake.\r\nAtrides! of all Heroes we esteem\u2019d\r\nThee dearest to the Gods, for that thy sway\r\nExtended over such a glorious host\r\nAt Ilium, scene of sorrow to the Greeks.\r\nBut Fate, whose ruthless force none may escape\r\nOf all who breathe, pursued thee from the first.\r\nThou should\u2019st have perish\u2019d full of honour, full\r\nOf royalty, at Troy; so all the Greeks\r\nHad rais\u2019d thy tomb, and thou hadst then bequeath\u2019d\r\nGreat glory to thy son; but Fate ordain\u2019d\r\nA death, oh how deplorable! for thee.\r\nTo whom Atrides\u2019 spirit thus replied.\r\nBlest son of Peleus, semblance of the Gods,\r\nAt Ilium, far from Argos, fall\u2019n! for whom\r\nContending, many a Trojan, many a Chief\r\nOf Greece died also, while in eddies whelm\u2019d\r\nOf dust thy vastness spread the plain,[footnote]\u2014Behemoth, biggest born of earth,\r\nUpheav\u2019d his vastness.[\/footnote]<\/sup> nor thee\r\nThe chariot aught or steed could int\u2019rest more!\r\nAll day we waged the battle, nor at last\r\nDesisted, but for tempests sent from Jove.\r\nAt length we bore into the Greecian fleet\r\nThy body from the field; there, first, we cleansed\r\nWith tepid baths and oil\u2019d thy shapely corse,\r\nThen placed thee on thy bier, while many a Greek\r\nAround thee wept, and shore his locks for thee.\r\nThy mother, also, hearing of thy death\r\nWith her immortal nymphs from the abyss\r\nArose and came; terrible was the sound\r\nOn the salt flood; a panic seized the Greeks,\r\nAnd ev\u2019ry warrior had return\u2019d on board\r\nThat moment, had not Nestor, ancient Chief,\r\nIllumed by long experience, interposed,\r\nHis counsels, ever wisest, wisest proved\r\nThen also, and he thus address\u2019d the host.\r\nSons of Achaia; fly not; stay, ye Greeks!\r\nThetis arrives with her immortal nymphs\r\nFrom the abyss, to visit her dead son.\r\nSo he; and, by his admonition stay\u2019d,\r\nThe Greeks fled not. Then, all around thee stood\r\nThe daughters of the Ancient of the Deep,\r\nMourning disconsolate; with heav\u2019nly robes\r\nThey clothed thy corse, and all the Muses nine\r\nDeplored thee in full choir with sweetest tones\r\nResponsive, nor one Greecian hadst thou seen\r\nDry-eyed, such grief the Muses moved in all.\r\nFull sev\u2019nteen days we, day and night, deplored\r\nThy death, both Gods in heav\u2019n and men below,\r\nBut, on the eighteenth day, we gave thy corse\r\nIts burning, and fat sheep around thee slew\r\nNum\u2019rous, with many a pastur\u2019d ox moon-horn\u2019d.\r\nWe burn\u2019d thee clothed in vesture of the Gods,\r\nWith honey and with oil feeding the flames\r\nAbundant, while Achaia\u2019s Heroes arm\u2019d,\r\nBoth horse and foot, encompassing thy pile,\r\nClash\u2019d on their shields, and deaf\u2019ning was the din.\r\nBut when the fires of Vulcan had at length\r\nConsumed thee, at the dawn we stored thy bones\r\nIn unguent and in undiluted wine;\r\nFor Thetis gave to us a golden vase\r\nTwin-ear\u2019d, which she profess\u2019d to have received\r\nFrom Bacchus, work divine of Vulcan\u2019s hand.\r\nWithin that vase, Achilles, treasured lie\r\nThine and the bones of thy departed friend\r\nPatroclus, but a sep\u2019rate urn we gave\r\nTo those of brave Antilochus, who most\r\nOf all thy friends at Ilium shared thy love\r\nAnd thy respect, thy friend Patroclus slain.\r\nAround both urns we piled a noble tomb,\r\n(We warriors of the sacred Argive host)\r\nOn a tall promontory shooting far\r\nInto the spacious Hellespont, that all\r\nWho live, and who shall yet be born, may view\r\nThy record, even from the distant waves.\r\nThen, by permission from the Gods obtain\u2019d,\r\nTo the Achaian Chiefs in circus met\r\nThetis appointed games. I have beheld\r\nThe burial rites of many an Hero bold,\r\nWhen, on the death of some great Chief, the youths\r\nGirding their loins anticipate the prize,\r\nBut sight of those with wonder fill\u2019d me most,\r\nSo glorious past all others were the games\r\nBy silver-footed Thetis giv\u2019n for thee,\r\nFor thou wast ever favour\u2019d of the Gods.\r\nThus, hast thou not, Achilles! although dead,\r\nForegone thy glory, but thy fair report\r\nIs universal among all mankind;\r\nBut, as for me, what recompense had I,\r\nMy warfare closed? for whom, at my return,\r\nJove framed such dire destruction by the hands\r\nOf fell \u00c6gisthus and my murth\u2019ress wife.\r\nThus, mutual, they conferr\u2019d; meantime approach\u2019d,\r\nSwift messenger of heav\u2019n, the Argicide,\r\nConducting thither all the shades of those\r\nSlain by Ulysses. At that sight amazed\r\nBoth moved toward them. Agamemnon\u2019s shade\r\nKnew well Amphimedon, for he had been\r\nErewhile his father\u2019s guest in Ithaca,\r\nAnd thus the spirit of Atreus\u2019 son began.\r\nAmphimedon! by what disastrous chance,\r\nCo\u0153vals as ye seem, and of an air\r\nDistinguish\u2019d all, descend ye to the Deeps?\r\nFor not the chosen youths of a whole town\r\nShould form a nobler band. Perish\u2019d ye sunk\r\nAmid vast billows and rude tempests raised\r\nBy Neptune\u2019s pow\u2019r? or on dry land through force\r\nOf hostile multitudes, while cutting off\r\nBeeves from the herd, or driving flocks away?\r\nOr fighting for your city and your wives?\r\nResolve me? I was once a guest of yours.\r\nRemember\u2019st not what time at your abode\r\nWith godlike Menelaus I arrived,\r\nThat we might win Ulysses with his fleet\r\nTo follow us to Troy? scarce we prevail\u2019d\r\nAt last to gain the city-waster Chief,\r\nAnd, after all, consumed a whole month more\r\nThe wide sea traversing from side to side.\r\nTo whom the spirit of Amphimedon.\r\nIllustrious Agamemnon, King of men!\r\nAll this I bear in mind, and will rehearse\r\nThe manner of our most disastrous end.\r\nBelieving brave Ulysses lost, we woo\u2019d\r\nMeantime his wife; she our detested suit\r\nWould neither ratify nor yet refuse,\r\nBut, planning for us a tremendous death,\r\nThis novel stratagem, at last, devised.\r\nBeginning, in her own recess, a web\r\nOf slend\u2019rest thread, and of a length and breadth\r\nUnusual, thus the suitors she address\u2019d.\r\nPrinces, my suitors! since the noble Chief\r\nUlysses is no more, enforce not yet\r\nMy nuptials; wait till I shall finish first\r\nA fun\u2019ral robe (lest all my threads decay)\r\nWhich for the ancient Hero I prepare,\r\nLaertes, looking for the mournful hour\r\nWhen fate shall snatch him to eternal rest;\r\nElse, I the censure dread of all my sex,\r\nShould he so wealthy, want at last a shroud.\r\nSo spake the Queen; we, unsuspicious all,\r\nWith her request complied. Thenceforth, all day\r\nShe wove the ample web, and by the aid\r\nOf torches ravell\u2019d it again at night.\r\nThree years she thus by artifice our suit\r\nEluded safe, but when the fourth arrived,\r\nAnd the same season, after many moons\r\nAnd fleeting days, return\u2019d, a damsel then\r\nOf her attendants, conscious of the fraud,\r\nReveal\u2019d it, and we found her pulling loose\r\nThe splendid web. Thus, through constraint, at length,\r\nShe finish\u2019d it, and in her own despight.\r\nBut when the Queen produced, at length, her work\r\nFinish\u2019d, new-blanch\u2019d, bright as the sun or moon,\r\nThen came Ulysses, by some adverse God\r\nConducted, to a cottage on the verge\r\nOf his own fields, in which his swine-herd dwells;\r\nThere also the illustrious Hero\u2019s son\r\nArrived soon after, in his sable bark\r\nFrom sandy Pylus borne; they, plotting both\r\nA dreadful death for all the suitors, sought\r\nOur glorious city, but Ulysses last,\r\nAnd first Telemachus. The father came\r\nConducted by his swine-herd, and attired\r\nIn tatters foul; a mendicant he seem\u2019d,\r\nTime-worn, and halted on a staff. So clad,\r\nAnd ent\u2019ring on the sudden, he escaped\r\nAll knowledge even of our eldest there,\r\nAnd we reviled and smote him; he although\r\nBeneath his own roof smitten and reproach\u2019d,\r\nWith patience suffer\u2019d it awhile, but roused\r\nBy inspiration of Jove \u00c6gis-arm\u2019d\r\nAt length, in concert with his son convey\u2019d\r\nTo his own chamber his resplendent arms,\r\nThere lodg\u2019d them safe, and barr\u2019d the massy doors\r\nThen, in his subtlety he bade the Queen\r\nA contest institute with bow and rings\r\nBetween the hapless suitors, whence ensued\r\nSlaughter to all. No suitor there had pow\u2019r\r\nTo overcome the stubborn bow that mock\u2019d\r\nAll our attempts; and when the weapon huge\r\nAt length was offer\u2019d to Ulysses\u2019 hands,\r\nWith clamour\u2019d menaces we bade the swain\r\nWithhold it from him, plead he as he might;\r\nTelemachus alone with loud command,\r\nBade give it him, and the illustrious Chief\r\nReceiving in his hand the bow, with ease\r\nBent it, and sped a shaft through all the rings.\r\nThen, springing to the portal steps, he pour\u2019d\r\nThe arrows forth, peer\u2019d terrible around,\r\nPierced King Antino\u00fcs, and, aiming sure\r\nHis deadly darts, pierced others after him,\r\nTill in one common carnage heap\u2019d we lay.\r\nSome God, as plain appear\u2019d, vouchsafed them aid,\r\nSuch ardour urged them, and with such dispatch\r\nThey slew us on all sides; hideous were heard\r\nThe groans of dying men fell\u2019d to the earth\r\nWith head-strokes rude, and the floor swam with blood.\r\nSuch, royal Agamemnon! was the fate\r\nBy which we perish\u2019d, all whose bodies lie\r\nUnburied still, and in Ulysses\u2019 house,\r\nFor tidings none have yet our friends alarm\u2019d\r\nAnd kindred, who might cleanse from sable gore\r\nOur clotted wounds, and mourn us on the bier,\r\nWhich are the rightful privilege of the dead.\r\nHim answer\u2019d, then, the shade of Atreus\u2019 son.\r\nOh happy offspring of Laertes! shrewd\r\nUlysses! matchless valour thou hast shewn\r\nRecov\u2019ring thus thy wife; nor less appears\r\nThe virtue of Icarius\u2019 daughter wise,\r\nThe chaste Penelope, so faithful found\r\nTo her Ulysses, husband of her youth.\r\nHis glory, by superior merit earn\u2019d,\r\nShall never die, and the immortal Gods\r\nShall make Penelope a theme of song\r\nDelightful in the ears of all mankind.\r\nNot such was Clytemnestra, daughter vile\r\nOf Tyndarus; she shed her husband\u2019s blood,\r\nAnd shall be chronicled in song a wife\r\nOf hateful memory, by whose offence\r\nEven the virtuous of her sex are shamed.\r\nThus they, beneath the vaulted roof obscure\r\nOf Pluto\u2019s house, conferring mutual stood.\r\nMeantime, descending from the city-gates,\r\nUlysses, by his son and by his swains\r\nFollow\u2019d, arrived at the delightful farm\r\nWhich old Laertes had with strenuous toil\r\nHimself long since acquired. There stood his house\r\nEncompass\u2019d by a bow\u2019r in which the hinds\r\nWho served and pleased him, ate, and sat, and slept.\r\nAn ancient woman, a Sicilian, dwelt\r\nThere also, who in that sequester\u2019d spot\r\nAttended diligent her aged Lord.\r\nThen thus Ulysses to his followers spake.\r\nHaste now, and, ent\u2019ring, slay ye of the swine\r\nThe best for our regale; myself, the while,\r\nWill prove my father, if his eye hath still\r\nDiscernment of me, or if absence long\r\nHave worn the knowledge of me from his mind.\r\nHe said, and gave into his servants\u2019 care\r\nHis arms; they swift proceeded to the house,\r\nAnd to the fruitful grove himself as swift\r\nTo prove his father. Down he went at once\r\nInto the spacious garden-plot, but found\r\nNor Dolius there, nor any of his sons\r\nOr servants; they were occupied elsewhere,\r\nAnd, with the ancient hind himself, employ\u2019d\r\nCollecting thorns with which to fence the grove.\r\nIn that umbrageous spot he found alone\r\nLaertes, with his hoe clearing a plant;\r\nSordid his tunic was, with many a patch\r\nMended unseemly; leathern were his greaves,\r\nThong-tied and also patch\u2019d, a frail defence\r\nAgainst sharp thorns, while gloves secured his hands\r\nFrom briar-points, and on his head he bore\r\nA goat-skin casque, nourishing hopeless woe.\r\nNo sooner then the Hero toil-inured\r\nSaw him age-worn and wretched, than he paused\r\nBeneath a lofty pear-tree\u2019s shade to weep.\r\nThere standing much he mused, whether, at once,\r\nKissing and clasping in his arms his sire,\r\nTo tell him all, by what means he had reach\u2019d\r\nHis native country, or to prove him first.\r\nAt length, he chose as his best course, with words\r\nOf seeming strangeness to accost his ear,\r\nAnd, with that purpose, moved direct toward him.\r\nHe, stooping low, loosen\u2019d the earth around\r\nA garden-plant, when his illustrious son\r\nNow, standing close beside him, thus began.\r\nOld sir! thou art no novice in these toils\r\nOf culture, but thy garden thrives; I mark\r\nIn all thy ground no plant, fig, olive, vine,\r\nPear-tree or flow\u2019r-bed suff\u2019ring through neglect.\r\nBut let it not offend thee if I say\r\nThat thou neglect\u2019st thyself, at the same time\r\nOppress\u2019d with age, sun-parch\u2019d and ill-attired.\r\nNot for thy inactivity, methinks,\r\nThy master slights thee thus, nor speaks thy form\r\nOr thy surpassing stature servile aught\r\nIn thee, but thou resemblest more a King.\r\nYes\u2014thou resemblest one who, bathed and fed,\r\nShould softly sleep; such is the claim of age.\r\nBut tell me true\u2014for whom labourest thou,\r\nAnd whose this garden? answer me beside,\r\nFor I would learn; have I indeed arrived\r\nIn Ithaca, as one whom here I met\r\nEv\u2019n now assured me, but who seem\u2019d a man\r\nNot overwise, refusing both to hear\r\nMy questions, and to answer when I ask\u2019d\r\nConcerning one in other days my guest\r\nAnd friend, if he have still his being here,\r\nOr have deceas\u2019d and journey\u2019d to the shades.\r\nFor I will tell thee; therefore mark. Long since\r\nA stranger reach\u2019d my house in my own land,\r\nWhom I with hospitality receiv\u2019d,\r\nNor ever sojourn\u2019d foreigner with me\r\nWhom I lov\u2019d more. He was by birth, he said,\r\nIthacan, and Laertes claim\u2019d his sire,\r\nSon of Arcesias. Introducing him\r\nBeneath my roof, I entertain\u2019d him well,\r\nAnd proved by gifts his welcome at my board.\r\nI gave him seven talents of wrought gold,\r\nA goblet, argent all, with flow\u2019rs emboss\u2019d,\r\nTwelve single cloaks, twelve carpets, mantles twelve\r\nOf brightest lustre, with as many vests,\r\nAnd added four fair damsels, whom he chose\r\nHimself, well born and well accomplish\u2019d all.\r\nThen thus his ancient sire weeping replied.\r\nStranger! thou hast in truth attain\u2019d the isle\r\nOf thy enquiry, but it is possess\u2019d\r\nBy a rude race, and lawless. Vain, alas!\r\nWere all thy num\u2019rous gifts; yet hadst thou found\r\nHim living here in Ithaca, with gifts\r\nReciprocated he had sent thee hence,\r\nRequiting honourably in his turn\r\nThy hospitality. But give me quick\r\nAnswer and true. How many have been the years\r\nSince thy reception of that hapless guest\r\nMy son? for mine, my own dear son was he.\r\nBut him, far distant both from friends and home,\r\nEither the fishes of the unknown Deep\r\nHave eaten, or wild beasts and fowls of prey,\r\nNor I, or she who bare him, was ordain\u2019d\r\nTo bathe his shrouded body with our tears,\r\nNor his chaste wife, well-dow\u2019r\u2019d Penelope\r\nTo close her husband\u2019s eyes, and to deplore\r\nHis doom, which is the privilege of the dead.\r\nBut tell me also thou, for I would learn,\r\nWho art thou? whence? where born? and sprung from whom?\r\nThe bark in which thou and thy godlike friends\r\nArrived, where is she anchor\u2019d on our coast?\r\nOr cam\u2019st thou only passenger on board\r\nAnother\u2019s bark, who landed thee and went?\r\nTo whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.\r\nI will with all simplicity relate\r\nWhat thou hast ask\u2019d. Of Alybas am I,\r\nWhere in much state I dwell, son of the rich\r\nApheidas royal Polypemon\u2019s son,\r\nAnd I am named Eperitus; by storms\r\nDriven from Sicily I have arrived,\r\nAnd yonder, on the margin of the field\r\nThat skirts your city, I have moor\u2019d my bark.\r\nFive years have pass\u2019d since thy Ulysses left,\r\nUnhappy Chief! my country; yet the birds\r\nAt his departure hovered on the right,\r\nAnd in that sign rejoicing, I dismiss\u2019d\r\nHim thence rejoicing also, for we hoped\r\nTo mix in social intercourse again,\r\nAnd to exchange once more pledges of love.\r\nHe spake; then sorrow as a sable cloud\r\nInvolved Laertes; gath\u2019ring with both hands\r\nThe dust, he pour\u2019d it on his rev\u2019rend head\r\nWith many a piteous groan. Ulysses\u2019 heart\r\nCommotion felt, and his stretch\u2019d nostrils throbb\u2019d\r\nWith agony close-pent, while fixt he eyed\r\nHis father; with a sudden force he sprang\r\nToward him, clasp\u2019d, and kiss\u2019d him, and exclaim\u2019d.\r\nMy father! I am he. Thou seest thy son\r\nAbsent these twenty years at last return\u2019d.\r\nBut bid thy sorrow cease; suspend henceforth\r\nAll lamentation; for I tell thee true,\r\n(And the occasion bids me briefly tell thee)\r\nI have slain all the suitors at my home,\r\nAnd all their taunts and injuries avenged.\r\nThen answer thus Laertes quick return\u2019d.\r\nIf thou hast come again, and art indeed\r\nMy son Ulysses, give me then the proof\r\nIndubitable, that I may believe.\r\nTo whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.\r\nView, first, the scar which with his iv\u2019ry tusk\r\nA wild boar gave me, when at thy command\r\nAnd at my mother\u2019s, to Autolycus\r\nHer father, on Parnassus, I repair\u2019d\r\nSeeking the gifts which, while a guest of yours,\r\nHe promis\u2019d should be mine. Accept beside\r\nThis proof. I will enum\u2019rate all the trees\r\nWhich, walking with thee in this cultured spot\r\n(Boy then) I begg\u2019d, and thou confirm\u2019dst my own.\r\nWe paced between them, and thou mad\u2019st me learn\r\nThe name of each. Thou gav\u2019st me thirteen pears,[footnote]The fruit is here used for the tree that bore it, as it is in the Greek; the Latins used the same mode of expression, neither is it uncommon in our own language.[\/footnote]<\/sup>\r\nTen apples,[footnote]See above.[\/footnote] thirty figs,[footnote]See above.[\/footnote] and fifty ranks\r\nDidst promise me of vines, their alleys all\r\nCorn-cropp\u2019d between. There, oft as sent from Jove\r\nThe influences of the year descend,\r\nGrapes of all hues and flavours clust\u2019ring hang.\r\nHe said; Laertes, conscious of the proofs\r\nIndubitable by Ulysses giv\u2019n,\r\nWith fault\u2019ring knees and fault\u2019ring heart both arms\r\nAround him threw. The Hero toil-inured\r\nDrew to his bosom close his fainting sire,\r\nWho, breath recov\u2019ring, and his scatter\u2019d pow\u2019rs\r\nOf intellect, at length thus spake aloud.\r\nYe Gods! oh then your residence is still\r\nOn the Olympian heights, if punishment\r\nAt last hath seized on those flagitious men.\r\nBut terrour shakes me, lest, incensed, ere long\r\nAll Ithaca flock hither, and dispatch\r\nSwift messengers with these dread tidings charged\r\nTo ev\u2019ry Cephallenian state around.\r\nHim answer\u2019d then Ulysses ever-wise.\r\nCourage! fear nought, but let us to the house\r\nBeside the garden, whither I have sent\r\nTelemachus, the herdsman, and the good\r\nEum\u00e6us to prepare us quick repast.\r\nSo they conferr\u2019d, and to Laertes\u2019 house\r\nPass\u2019d on together; there arrived, they found\r\nThose three preparing now their plenteous feast,\r\nAnd mingling sable wine; then, by the hands\r\nOf his Sicilian matron, the old King\r\nWas bathed, anointed, and attired afresh,\r\nAnd Pallas, drawing nigh, dilated more\r\nHis limbs, and gave his whole majestic form\r\nEncrease of amplitude. He left the bath.\r\nHis son, amazed as he had seen a God\r\nAlighted newly from the skies, exclaim\u2019d.\r\nMy father! doubtless some immortal Pow\u2019r\r\nHath clothed thy form with dignity divine.\r\nThen thus replied his venerable sire.\r\nJove! Pallas! Ph\u0153bus! oh that I possess\u2019d\r\nSuch vigour now, as when in arms I took\r\nNericus, continental city fair,\r\nWith my brave Cephallenians! oh that such\r\nAnd arm\u2019d as then, I yesterday had stood\r\nBeside thee in thy palace, combating\r\nThose suitors proud, then had I strew\u2019d the floor\r\nWith num\u2019rous slain, to thy exceeding joy.\r\nSuch was their conference; and now, the task\r\nOf preparation ended, and the feast\r\nSet forth, on couches and on thrones they sat,\r\nAnd, ranged in order due, took each his share.\r\nThen, ancient Dolius, and with him, his sons\r\nArrived toil-worn, by the Sicilian dame\r\nSummon\u2019d, their cat\u2019ress, and their father\u2019s kind\r\nAttendant ever in his eve of life.\r\nThey, seeing and recalling soon to mind\r\nUlysses, in the middle mansion stood\r\nWond\u2019ring, when thus Ulysses with a voice\r\nOf some reproof, but gentle, them bespake.\r\nOld servant, sit and eat, banishing fear\r\nAnd mute amazement; for, although provoked\r\nBy appetite, we have long time abstain\u2019d,\r\nExpecting ev\u2019ry moment thy return.\r\nHe said; then Dolius with expanded arms\r\nSprang right toward Ulysses, seized his hand,\r\nKiss\u2019d it, and in wing\u2019d accents thus replied.\r\nOh master ever dear! since thee the Gods\r\nThemselves in answer to our warm desires,\r\nHave, unexpectedly, at length restored,\r\nHail, and be happy, and heav\u2019n make thee such!\r\nBut say, and truly; knows the prudent Queen\r\nAlready thy return, or shall we send\r\nOurselves an herald with the joyful news?\r\nTo whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.\r\nMy ancient friend, thou may\u2019st release thy mind\r\nFrom that solicitude; she knows it well.\r\nSo he; then Dolius to his glossy seat\r\nReturn\u2019d, and all his sons gath\u2019ring around\r\nUlysses, welcom\u2019d him and grasp\u2019d his hand,\r\nThen sat beside their father; thus beneath\r\nLaertes\u2019 roof they, joyful, took repast.\r\nBut Fame with rapid haste the city roam\u2019d\r\nIn ev\u2019ry part, promulging in all ears\r\nThe suitors\u2019 horrid fate. No sooner heard\r\nThe multitude that tale, than one and all\r\nGroaning they met and murmuring before\r\nUlysses\u2019 gates. Bringing the bodies forth,\r\nThey buried each his friend, but gave the dead\r\nOf other cities to be ferried home\r\nBy fishermen on board their rapid barks.\r\nAll hasted then to council; sorrow wrung\r\nTheir hearts, and, the assembly now convened,\r\nArising first Eupithes spake, for grief\r\nSat heavy on his soul, grief for the loss\r\nOf his Antino\u00fcs by Ulysses slain\r\nForemost of all, whom mourning, thus he said.\r\nMy friends! no trivial fruits the Greecians reap\r\nOf this man\u2019s doings. Those<\/i> he took with him\r\nOn board his barks, a num\u2019rous train and bold,\r\nThen lost his barks, lost all his num\u2019rous train,\r\nAnd these<\/i>, our noblest, slew at his return.\r\nCome therefore\u2014ere he yet escape by flight\r\nTo Pylus or to noble Elis, realm\r\nOf the Epeans, follow him; else shame\r\nAttends us and indelible reproach.\r\nIf we avenge not on these men the blood\r\nOf our own sons and brothers, farewell then\r\nAll that makes life desirable; my wish\r\nHenceforth shall be to mingle with the shades.\r\nOh then pursue and seize them ere they fly.\r\nThus he with tears, and pity moved in all.\r\nThen, Medon and the sacred bard whom sleep\r\nHad lately left, arriving from the house\r\nOf Laertiades, approach\u2019d; amid\r\nThe throng they stood; all wonder\u2019d seeing them,\r\nAnd Medon, prudent senior, thus began.\r\nHear me, my countrymen! Ulysses plann\u2019d\r\nWith no disapprobation of the Gods\r\nThe deed that ye deplore. I saw, myself,\r\nA Pow\u2019r immortal at the Hero\u2019s side,\r\nIn semblance just of Mentor; now the God,\r\nIn front apparent, led him on, and now,\r\nFrom side to side of all the palace, urged\r\nTo flight the suitors; heaps on heaps they fell.\r\nHe said; then terrour wan seiz\u2019d ev\u2019ry cheek,\r\nAnd Halitherses, Hero old, the son\r\nOf Mastor, who alone among them all\r\nKnew past, and future, prudent, thus began.\r\nNow, O ye men of Ithaca! my words\r\nAttentive hear! by your own fault, my friends,\r\nThis deed hath been perform\u2019d; for when myself\r\nAnd noble Mentor counsell\u2019d you to check\r\nThe sin and folly of your sons, ye would not.\r\nGreat was their wickedness, and flagrant wrong\r\nThey wrought, the wealth devouring and the wife\r\nDishonouring of an illustrious Chief\r\nWhom they deem\u2019d destined never to return.\r\nBut hear my counsel. Go not, lest ye draw\r\nDisaster down and woe on your own heads.\r\nHe ended; then with boist\u2019rous roar (although\r\nPart kept their seats) upsprang the multitude,\r\nFor Halitherses pleased them not, they chose\r\nEupithes\u2019 counsel rather; all at once\r\nTo arms they flew, and clad in dazzling brass\r\nBefore the city form\u2019d their dense array.\r\nLeader infatuate at their head appear\u2019d\r\nEupithes, hoping to avenge his son\r\nAntino\u00fcs, but was himself ordain\u2019d\r\nTo meet his doom, and to return no more.\r\nThen thus Minerva to Saturnian Jove.\r\nOh father! son of Saturn! Jove supreme!\r\nDeclare the purpose hidden in thy breast.\r\nWilt thou that this hostility proceed,\r\nOr wilt thou grant them amity again?\r\nTo whom the cloud-assembler God replied.\r\nWhy asks my daughter? didst thou not design\r\nThyself, that brave Ulysses coming home\r\nShould slay those profligates? act as thou wilt,\r\nBut thus I counsel, since the noble Chief\r\nHath slain the suitors, now let peace ensue\r\nOath-bound, and reign Ulysses evermore!\r\nThe slaughter of their brethren and their sons\r\nTo strike from their remembrance, shall be ours.\r\nLet mutual amity, as at the first,\r\nUnite them, and let wealth and peace abound.\r\nSo saying, he animated to her task\r\nMinerva prompt before, and from the heights\r\nOlympian down to Ithaca she flew.\r\nMeantime Ulysses (for their hunger now\r\nAnd thirst were sated) thus address\u2019d his hinds.\r\nLook ye abroad, lest haply they approach.\r\nHe said, and at his word, forth went a son\r\nOf Dolius; at the gate he stood, and thence\r\nBeholding all that multitude at hand,\r\nIn accents wing\u2019d thus to Ulysses spake.\r\nThey come\u2014they are already arrived\u2014arm all!\r\nThen, all arising, put their armour on,\r\nUlysses with his three, and the six sons\r\nOf Dolius; Dolius also with the rest,\r\nArm\u2019d and Laertes, although silver-hair\u2019d,\r\nWarriors perforce. When all were clad alike\r\nIn radiant armour, throwing wide the gates\r\nThey sallied, and Ulysses led the way.\r\nThen Jove\u2019s own daughter Pallas, in the form\r\nAnd with the voice of Mentor, came in view,\r\nWhom seeing Laertiades rejoiced,\r\nAnd thus Telemachus, his son, bespake.\r\nNow, oh my son! thou shalt observe, untold\r\nBy me, where fight the bravest. Oh shame not\r\nThine ancestry, who have in all the earth\r\nProof given of valour in all ages past.\r\nTo whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.\r\nMy father! if thou wish that spectacle,\r\nThou shalt behold thy son, as thou hast said,\r\nIn nought dishonouring his noble race.\r\nThen was Laertes joyful, and exclaim\u2019d,\r\nWhat sun hath ris\u2019n to-day?[footnote]\u03a4\u03af\u03c2 \u03bd\u03cd \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u1f21\u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03b7 \u1f25\u03b4\u03b5;\u2014So Cicero, who seems to translate it\u2014Proh dii immortales! Quis hic illuxit dies! See Clarke in loco.[\/footnote]<\/sup> oh blessed Gods!\r\nMy son and grandson emulous dispute\r\nThe prize of glory, and my soul exults.\r\nHe ended, and Minerva drawing nigh\r\nTo the old King, thus counsell\u2019d him. Oh friend\r\nWhom most I love, son of Arcesias! pray\u2019r\r\nPreferring to the virgin azure-eyed,\r\nAnd to her father Jove, delay not, shake\r\nThy lance in air, and give it instant flight.\r\nSo saying, the Goddess nerved his arm anew.\r\nHe sought in pray\u2019r the daughter dread of Jove,\r\nAnd, brandishing it, hurl\u2019d his lance; it struck\r\nEupithes, pierced his helmet brazen-cheek\u2019d\r\nThat stay\u2019d it not, but forth it sprang beyond,\r\nAnd with loud clangor of his arms he fell.\r\nThen flew Ulysses and his noble son\r\nWith faulchion and with spear of double edge\r\nTo the assault, and of them all had left\r\nNone living, none had to his home return\u2019d,\r\nBut that Jove\u2019s virgin daughter with a voice\r\nOf loud authority thus quell\u2019d them all.\r\nPeace, O ye men of Ithaca! while yet\r\nThe field remains undeluged with your blood.\r\nSo she, and fear at once paled ev\u2019ry cheek.\r\nAll trembled at the voice divine; their arms\r\nEscaping from the grasp fell to the earth,\r\nAnd, covetous of longer life, each fled\r\nBack to the city. Then Ulysses sent\r\nHis voice abroad, and with an eagle\u2019s force\r\nSprang on the people; but Saturnian Jove,\r\nCast down, incontinent, his smouldring bolt\r\nAt Pallas\u2019 feet, and thus the Goddess spake.\r\nLaertes\u2019 noble son, for wiles renown\u2019d!\r\nForbear; abstain from slaughter; lest thyself\r\nIncur the anger of high thund\u2019ring Jove.\r\nSo Pallas, whom Ulysses, glad, obey\u2019d.\r\nThen faithful covenants of peace between\r\nBoth sides ensued, ratified in the sight\r\nOf Pallas progeny of Jove, who seem\u2019d,\r\nIn voice and form, the Mentor known to all.","rendered":"

Argument<\/b><\/h2>\n

Mercury conducts the souls of the suitors down to Ades. Ulysses discovers himself to Laertes, and quells, by the aid of Minerva, an insurrection of the people resenting the death of the suitors.<\/p>\n

And now Cyllenian Hermes summon\u2019d forth
\nThe spirits of the suitors; waving wide
\nThe golden wand of pow\u2019r to seal all eyes
\nIn slumber, and to ope them wide again,
\nHe drove them gibb\u2019ring down into the shades,[1]<\/sup><\/a><\/sup>
\nAs when the bats within some hallow\u2019d cave
\nFlit squeaking all around, for if but one
\nFall from the rock, the rest all follow him,
\nIn such connexion mutual they adhere,
\nSo, after bounteous Mercury, the ghosts,
\nTroop\u2019d downward gibb\u2019ring all the dreary way.[2]<\/sup><\/a>
\nThe Ocean\u2019s flood and the Leucadian rock,
\nThe Sun\u2019s gate also and the land of Dreams
\nThey pass\u2019d, whence, next, into the meads they came
\nOf Asphodel, by shadowy forms possess\u2019d,
\nSimulars of the dead. They found the souls
\nOf brave Pelides there, and of his friend
\nPatroclus, of Antilochus renown\u2019d,
\nAnd of the mightier Ajax, for his form
\nAnd bulk (Achilles sole except) of all
\nThe sons of the Achaians most admired.
\nThese waited on Achilles. Then, appear\u2019d
\nThe mournful ghost of Agamemnon, son
\nOf Atreus, compass\u2019d by the ghosts of all
\nWho shared his fate beneath \u00c6gisthus\u2019 roof,
\nAnd him the ghost of Peleus\u2019 son bespake.
\nAtrides! of all Heroes we esteem\u2019d
\nThee dearest to the Gods, for that thy sway
\nExtended over such a glorious host
\nAt Ilium, scene of sorrow to the Greeks.
\nBut Fate, whose ruthless force none may escape
\nOf all who breathe, pursued thee from the first.
\nThou should\u2019st have perish\u2019d full of honour, full
\nOf royalty, at Troy; so all the Greeks
\nHad rais\u2019d thy tomb, and thou hadst then bequeath\u2019d
\nGreat glory to thy son; but Fate ordain\u2019d
\nA death, oh how deplorable! for thee.
\nTo whom Atrides\u2019 spirit thus replied.
\nBlest son of Peleus, semblance of the Gods,
\nAt Ilium, far from Argos, fall\u2019n! for whom
\nContending, many a Trojan, many a Chief
\nOf Greece died also, while in eddies whelm\u2019d
\nOf dust thy vastness spread the plain,[3]<\/sup><\/a><\/sup> nor thee
\nThe chariot aught or steed could int\u2019rest more!
\nAll day we waged the battle, nor at last
\nDesisted, but for tempests sent from Jove.
\nAt length we bore into the Greecian fleet
\nThy body from the field; there, first, we cleansed
\nWith tepid baths and oil\u2019d thy shapely corse,
\nThen placed thee on thy bier, while many a Greek
\nAround thee wept, and shore his locks for thee.
\nThy mother, also, hearing of thy death
\nWith her immortal nymphs from the abyss
\nArose and came; terrible was the sound
\nOn the salt flood; a panic seized the Greeks,
\nAnd ev\u2019ry warrior had return\u2019d on board
\nThat moment, had not Nestor, ancient Chief,
\nIllumed by long experience, interposed,
\nHis counsels, ever wisest, wisest proved
\nThen also, and he thus address\u2019d the host.
\nSons of Achaia; fly not; stay, ye Greeks!
\nThetis arrives with her immortal nymphs
\nFrom the abyss, to visit her dead son.
\nSo he; and, by his admonition stay\u2019d,
\nThe Greeks fled not. Then, all around thee stood
\nThe daughters of the Ancient of the Deep,
\nMourning disconsolate; with heav\u2019nly robes
\nThey clothed thy corse, and all the Muses nine
\nDeplored thee in full choir with sweetest tones
\nResponsive, nor one Greecian hadst thou seen
\nDry-eyed, such grief the Muses moved in all.
\nFull sev\u2019nteen days we, day and night, deplored
\nThy death, both Gods in heav\u2019n and men below,
\nBut, on the eighteenth day, we gave thy corse
\nIts burning, and fat sheep around thee slew
\nNum\u2019rous, with many a pastur\u2019d ox moon-horn\u2019d.
\nWe burn\u2019d thee clothed in vesture of the Gods,
\nWith honey and with oil feeding the flames
\nAbundant, while Achaia\u2019s Heroes arm\u2019d,
\nBoth horse and foot, encompassing thy pile,
\nClash\u2019d on their shields, and deaf\u2019ning was the din.
\nBut when the fires of Vulcan had at length
\nConsumed thee, at the dawn we stored thy bones
\nIn unguent and in undiluted wine;
\nFor Thetis gave to us a golden vase
\nTwin-ear\u2019d, which she profess\u2019d to have received
\nFrom Bacchus, work divine of Vulcan\u2019s hand.
\nWithin that vase, Achilles, treasured lie
\nThine and the bones of thy departed friend
\nPatroclus, but a sep\u2019rate urn we gave
\nTo those of brave Antilochus, who most
\nOf all thy friends at Ilium shared thy love
\nAnd thy respect, thy friend Patroclus slain.
\nAround both urns we piled a noble tomb,
\n(We warriors of the sacred Argive host)
\nOn a tall promontory shooting far
\nInto the spacious Hellespont, that all
\nWho live, and who shall yet be born, may view
\nThy record, even from the distant waves.
\nThen, by permission from the Gods obtain\u2019d,
\nTo the Achaian Chiefs in circus met
\nThetis appointed games. I have beheld
\nThe burial rites of many an Hero bold,
\nWhen, on the death of some great Chief, the youths
\nGirding their loins anticipate the prize,
\nBut sight of those with wonder fill\u2019d me most,
\nSo glorious past all others were the games
\nBy silver-footed Thetis giv\u2019n for thee,
\nFor thou wast ever favour\u2019d of the Gods.
\nThus, hast thou not, Achilles! although dead,
\nForegone thy glory, but thy fair report
\nIs universal among all mankind;
\nBut, as for me, what recompense had I,
\nMy warfare closed? for whom, at my return,
\nJove framed such dire destruction by the hands
\nOf fell \u00c6gisthus and my murth\u2019ress wife.
\nThus, mutual, they conferr\u2019d; meantime approach\u2019d,
\nSwift messenger of heav\u2019n, the Argicide,
\nConducting thither all the shades of those
\nSlain by Ulysses. At that sight amazed
\nBoth moved toward them. Agamemnon\u2019s shade
\nKnew well Amphimedon, for he had been
\nErewhile his father\u2019s guest in Ithaca,
\nAnd thus the spirit of Atreus\u2019 son began.
\nAmphimedon! by what disastrous chance,
\nCo\u0153vals as ye seem, and of an air
\nDistinguish\u2019d all, descend ye to the Deeps?
\nFor not the chosen youths of a whole town
\nShould form a nobler band. Perish\u2019d ye sunk
\nAmid vast billows and rude tempests raised
\nBy Neptune\u2019s pow\u2019r? or on dry land through force
\nOf hostile multitudes, while cutting off
\nBeeves from the herd, or driving flocks away?
\nOr fighting for your city and your wives?
\nResolve me? I was once a guest of yours.
\nRemember\u2019st not what time at your abode
\nWith godlike Menelaus I arrived,
\nThat we might win Ulysses with his fleet
\nTo follow us to Troy? scarce we prevail\u2019d
\nAt last to gain the city-waster Chief,
\nAnd, after all, consumed a whole month more
\nThe wide sea traversing from side to side.
\nTo whom the spirit of Amphimedon.
\nIllustrious Agamemnon, King of men!
\nAll this I bear in mind, and will rehearse
\nThe manner of our most disastrous end.
\nBelieving brave Ulysses lost, we woo\u2019d
\nMeantime his wife; she our detested suit
\nWould neither ratify nor yet refuse,
\nBut, planning for us a tremendous death,
\nThis novel stratagem, at last, devised.
\nBeginning, in her own recess, a web
\nOf slend\u2019rest thread, and of a length and breadth
\nUnusual, thus the suitors she address\u2019d.
\nPrinces, my suitors! since the noble Chief
\nUlysses is no more, enforce not yet
\nMy nuptials; wait till I shall finish first
\nA fun\u2019ral robe (lest all my threads decay)
\nWhich for the ancient Hero I prepare,
\nLaertes, looking for the mournful hour
\nWhen fate shall snatch him to eternal rest;
\nElse, I the censure dread of all my sex,
\nShould he so wealthy, want at last a shroud.
\nSo spake the Queen; we, unsuspicious all,
\nWith her request complied. Thenceforth, all day
\nShe wove the ample web, and by the aid
\nOf torches ravell\u2019d it again at night.
\nThree years she thus by artifice our suit
\nEluded safe, but when the fourth arrived,
\nAnd the same season, after many moons
\nAnd fleeting days, return\u2019d, a damsel then
\nOf her attendants, conscious of the fraud,
\nReveal\u2019d it, and we found her pulling loose
\nThe splendid web. Thus, through constraint, at length,
\nShe finish\u2019d it, and in her own despight.
\nBut when the Queen produced, at length, her work
\nFinish\u2019d, new-blanch\u2019d, bright as the sun or moon,
\nThen came Ulysses, by some adverse God
\nConducted, to a cottage on the verge
\nOf his own fields, in which his swine-herd dwells;
\nThere also the illustrious Hero\u2019s son
\nArrived soon after, in his sable bark
\nFrom sandy Pylus borne; they, plotting both
\nA dreadful death for all the suitors, sought
\nOur glorious city, but Ulysses last,
\nAnd first Telemachus. The father came
\nConducted by his swine-herd, and attired
\nIn tatters foul; a mendicant he seem\u2019d,
\nTime-worn, and halted on a staff. So clad,
\nAnd ent\u2019ring on the sudden, he escaped
\nAll knowledge even of our eldest there,
\nAnd we reviled and smote him; he although
\nBeneath his own roof smitten and reproach\u2019d,
\nWith patience suffer\u2019d it awhile, but roused
\nBy inspiration of Jove \u00c6gis-arm\u2019d
\nAt length, in concert with his son convey\u2019d
\nTo his own chamber his resplendent arms,
\nThere lodg\u2019d them safe, and barr\u2019d the massy doors
\nThen, in his subtlety he bade the Queen
\nA contest institute with bow and rings
\nBetween the hapless suitors, whence ensued
\nSlaughter to all. No suitor there had pow\u2019r
\nTo overcome the stubborn bow that mock\u2019d
\nAll our attempts; and when the weapon huge
\nAt length was offer\u2019d to Ulysses\u2019 hands,
\nWith clamour\u2019d menaces we bade the swain
\nWithhold it from him, plead he as he might;
\nTelemachus alone with loud command,
\nBade give it him, and the illustrious Chief
\nReceiving in his hand the bow, with ease
\nBent it, and sped a shaft through all the rings.
\nThen, springing to the portal steps, he pour\u2019d
\nThe arrows forth, peer\u2019d terrible around,
\nPierced King Antino\u00fcs, and, aiming sure
\nHis deadly darts, pierced others after him,
\nTill in one common carnage heap\u2019d we lay.
\nSome God, as plain appear\u2019d, vouchsafed them aid,
\nSuch ardour urged them, and with such dispatch
\nThey slew us on all sides; hideous were heard
\nThe groans of dying men fell\u2019d to the earth
\nWith head-strokes rude, and the floor swam with blood.
\nSuch, royal Agamemnon! was the fate
\nBy which we perish\u2019d, all whose bodies lie
\nUnburied still, and in Ulysses\u2019 house,
\nFor tidings none have yet our friends alarm\u2019d
\nAnd kindred, who might cleanse from sable gore
\nOur clotted wounds, and mourn us on the bier,
\nWhich are the rightful privilege of the dead.
\nHim answer\u2019d, then, the shade of Atreus\u2019 son.
\nOh happy offspring of Laertes! shrewd
\nUlysses! matchless valour thou hast shewn
\nRecov\u2019ring thus thy wife; nor less appears
\nThe virtue of Icarius\u2019 daughter wise,
\nThe chaste Penelope, so faithful found
\nTo her Ulysses, husband of her youth.
\nHis glory, by superior merit earn\u2019d,
\nShall never die, and the immortal Gods
\nShall make Penelope a theme of song
\nDelightful in the ears of all mankind.
\nNot such was Clytemnestra, daughter vile
\nOf Tyndarus; she shed her husband\u2019s blood,
\nAnd shall be chronicled in song a wife
\nOf hateful memory, by whose offence
\nEven the virtuous of her sex are shamed.
\nThus they, beneath the vaulted roof obscure
\nOf Pluto\u2019s house, conferring mutual stood.
\nMeantime, descending from the city-gates,
\nUlysses, by his son and by his swains
\nFollow\u2019d, arrived at the delightful farm
\nWhich old Laertes had with strenuous toil
\nHimself long since acquired. There stood his house
\nEncompass\u2019d by a bow\u2019r in which the hinds
\nWho served and pleased him, ate, and sat, and slept.
\nAn ancient woman, a Sicilian, dwelt
\nThere also, who in that sequester\u2019d spot
\nAttended diligent her aged Lord.
\nThen thus Ulysses to his followers spake.
\nHaste now, and, ent\u2019ring, slay ye of the swine
\nThe best for our regale; myself, the while,
\nWill prove my father, if his eye hath still
\nDiscernment of me, or if absence long
\nHave worn the knowledge of me from his mind.
\nHe said, and gave into his servants\u2019 care
\nHis arms; they swift proceeded to the house,
\nAnd to the fruitful grove himself as swift
\nTo prove his father. Down he went at once
\nInto the spacious garden-plot, but found
\nNor Dolius there, nor any of his sons
\nOr servants; they were occupied elsewhere,
\nAnd, with the ancient hind himself, employ\u2019d
\nCollecting thorns with which to fence the grove.
\nIn that umbrageous spot he found alone
\nLaertes, with his hoe clearing a plant;
\nSordid his tunic was, with many a patch
\nMended unseemly; leathern were his greaves,
\nThong-tied and also patch\u2019d, a frail defence
\nAgainst sharp thorns, while gloves secured his hands
\nFrom briar-points, and on his head he bore
\nA goat-skin casque, nourishing hopeless woe.
\nNo sooner then the Hero toil-inured
\nSaw him age-worn and wretched, than he paused
\nBeneath a lofty pear-tree\u2019s shade to weep.
\nThere standing much he mused, whether, at once,
\nKissing and clasping in his arms his sire,
\nTo tell him all, by what means he had reach\u2019d
\nHis native country, or to prove him first.
\nAt length, he chose as his best course, with words
\nOf seeming strangeness to accost his ear,
\nAnd, with that purpose, moved direct toward him.
\nHe, stooping low, loosen\u2019d the earth around
\nA garden-plant, when his illustrious son
\nNow, standing close beside him, thus began.
\nOld sir! thou art no novice in these toils
\nOf culture, but thy garden thrives; I mark
\nIn all thy ground no plant, fig, olive, vine,
\nPear-tree or flow\u2019r-bed suff\u2019ring through neglect.
\nBut let it not offend thee if I say
\nThat thou neglect\u2019st thyself, at the same time
\nOppress\u2019d with age, sun-parch\u2019d and ill-attired.
\nNot for thy inactivity, methinks,
\nThy master slights thee thus, nor speaks thy form
\nOr thy surpassing stature servile aught
\nIn thee, but thou resemblest more a King.
\nYes\u2014thou resemblest one who, bathed and fed,
\nShould softly sleep; such is the claim of age.
\nBut tell me true\u2014for whom labourest thou,
\nAnd whose this garden? answer me beside,
\nFor I would learn; have I indeed arrived
\nIn Ithaca, as one whom here I met
\nEv\u2019n now assured me, but who seem\u2019d a man
\nNot overwise, refusing both to hear
\nMy questions, and to answer when I ask\u2019d
\nConcerning one in other days my guest
\nAnd friend, if he have still his being here,
\nOr have deceas\u2019d and journey\u2019d to the shades.
\nFor I will tell thee; therefore mark. Long since
\nA stranger reach\u2019d my house in my own land,
\nWhom I with hospitality receiv\u2019d,
\nNor ever sojourn\u2019d foreigner with me
\nWhom I lov\u2019d more. He was by birth, he said,
\nIthacan, and Laertes claim\u2019d his sire,
\nSon of Arcesias. Introducing him
\nBeneath my roof, I entertain\u2019d him well,
\nAnd proved by gifts his welcome at my board.
\nI gave him seven talents of wrought gold,
\nA goblet, argent all, with flow\u2019rs emboss\u2019d,
\nTwelve single cloaks, twelve carpets, mantles twelve
\nOf brightest lustre, with as many vests,
\nAnd added four fair damsels, whom he chose
\nHimself, well born and well accomplish\u2019d all.
\nThen thus his ancient sire weeping replied.
\nStranger! thou hast in truth attain\u2019d the isle
\nOf thy enquiry, but it is possess\u2019d
\nBy a rude race, and lawless. Vain, alas!
\nWere all thy num\u2019rous gifts; yet hadst thou found
\nHim living here in Ithaca, with gifts
\nReciprocated he had sent thee hence,
\nRequiting honourably in his turn
\nThy hospitality. But give me quick
\nAnswer and true. How many have been the years
\nSince thy reception of that hapless guest
\nMy son? for mine, my own dear son was he.
\nBut him, far distant both from friends and home,
\nEither the fishes of the unknown Deep
\nHave eaten, or wild beasts and fowls of prey,
\nNor I, or she who bare him, was ordain\u2019d
\nTo bathe his shrouded body with our tears,
\nNor his chaste wife, well-dow\u2019r\u2019d Penelope
\nTo close her husband\u2019s eyes, and to deplore
\nHis doom, which is the privilege of the dead.
\nBut tell me also thou, for I would learn,
\nWho art thou? whence? where born? and sprung from whom?
\nThe bark in which thou and thy godlike friends
\nArrived, where is she anchor\u2019d on our coast?
\nOr cam\u2019st thou only passenger on board
\nAnother\u2019s bark, who landed thee and went?
\nTo whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.
\nI will with all simplicity relate
\nWhat thou hast ask\u2019d. Of Alybas am I,
\nWhere in much state I dwell, son of the rich
\nApheidas royal Polypemon\u2019s son,
\nAnd I am named Eperitus; by storms
\nDriven from Sicily I have arrived,
\nAnd yonder, on the margin of the field
\nThat skirts your city, I have moor\u2019d my bark.
\nFive years have pass\u2019d since thy Ulysses left,
\nUnhappy Chief! my country; yet the birds
\nAt his departure hovered on the right,
\nAnd in that sign rejoicing, I dismiss\u2019d
\nHim thence rejoicing also, for we hoped
\nTo mix in social intercourse again,
\nAnd to exchange once more pledges of love.
\nHe spake; then sorrow as a sable cloud
\nInvolved Laertes; gath\u2019ring with both hands
\nThe dust, he pour\u2019d it on his rev\u2019rend head
\nWith many a piteous groan. Ulysses\u2019 heart
\nCommotion felt, and his stretch\u2019d nostrils throbb\u2019d
\nWith agony close-pent, while fixt he eyed
\nHis father; with a sudden force he sprang
\nToward him, clasp\u2019d, and kiss\u2019d him, and exclaim\u2019d.
\nMy father! I am he. Thou seest thy son
\nAbsent these twenty years at last return\u2019d.
\nBut bid thy sorrow cease; suspend henceforth
\nAll lamentation; for I tell thee true,
\n(And the occasion bids me briefly tell thee)
\nI have slain all the suitors at my home,
\nAnd all their taunts and injuries avenged.
\nThen answer thus Laertes quick return\u2019d.
\nIf thou hast come again, and art indeed
\nMy son Ulysses, give me then the proof
\nIndubitable, that I may believe.
\nTo whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.
\nView, first, the scar which with his iv\u2019ry tusk
\nA wild boar gave me, when at thy command
\nAnd at my mother\u2019s, to Autolycus
\nHer father, on Parnassus, I repair\u2019d
\nSeeking the gifts which, while a guest of yours,
\nHe promis\u2019d should be mine. Accept beside
\nThis proof. I will enum\u2019rate all the trees
\nWhich, walking with thee in this cultured spot
\n(Boy then) I begg\u2019d, and thou confirm\u2019dst my own.
\nWe paced between them, and thou mad\u2019st me learn
\nThe name of each. Thou gav\u2019st me thirteen pears,[4]<\/sup><\/a><\/sup>
\nTen apples,[5]<\/sup><\/a> thirty figs,[6]<\/sup><\/a> and fifty ranks
\nDidst promise me of vines, their alleys all
\nCorn-cropp\u2019d between. There, oft as sent from Jove
\nThe influences of the year descend,
\nGrapes of all hues and flavours clust\u2019ring hang.
\nHe said; Laertes, conscious of the proofs
\nIndubitable by Ulysses giv\u2019n,
\nWith fault\u2019ring knees and fault\u2019ring heart both arms
\nAround him threw. The Hero toil-inured
\nDrew to his bosom close his fainting sire,
\nWho, breath recov\u2019ring, and his scatter\u2019d pow\u2019rs
\nOf intellect, at length thus spake aloud.
\nYe Gods! oh then your residence is still
\nOn the Olympian heights, if punishment
\nAt last hath seized on those flagitious men.
\nBut terrour shakes me, lest, incensed, ere long
\nAll Ithaca flock hither, and dispatch
\nSwift messengers with these dread tidings charged
\nTo ev\u2019ry Cephallenian state around.
\nHim answer\u2019d then Ulysses ever-wise.
\nCourage! fear nought, but let us to the house
\nBeside the garden, whither I have sent
\nTelemachus, the herdsman, and the good
\nEum\u00e6us to prepare us quick repast.
\nSo they conferr\u2019d, and to Laertes\u2019 house
\nPass\u2019d on together; there arrived, they found
\nThose three preparing now their plenteous feast,
\nAnd mingling sable wine; then, by the hands
\nOf his Sicilian matron, the old King
\nWas bathed, anointed, and attired afresh,
\nAnd Pallas, drawing nigh, dilated more
\nHis limbs, and gave his whole majestic form
\nEncrease of amplitude. He left the bath.
\nHis son, amazed as he had seen a God
\nAlighted newly from the skies, exclaim\u2019d.
\nMy father! doubtless some immortal Pow\u2019r
\nHath clothed thy form with dignity divine.
\nThen thus replied his venerable sire.
\nJove! Pallas! Ph\u0153bus! oh that I possess\u2019d
\nSuch vigour now, as when in arms I took
\nNericus, continental city fair,
\nWith my brave Cephallenians! oh that such
\nAnd arm\u2019d as then, I yesterday had stood
\nBeside thee in thy palace, combating
\nThose suitors proud, then had I strew\u2019d the floor
\nWith num\u2019rous slain, to thy exceeding joy.
\nSuch was their conference; and now, the task
\nOf preparation ended, and the feast
\nSet forth, on couches and on thrones they sat,
\nAnd, ranged in order due, took each his share.
\nThen, ancient Dolius, and with him, his sons
\nArrived toil-worn, by the Sicilian dame
\nSummon\u2019d, their cat\u2019ress, and their father\u2019s kind
\nAttendant ever in his eve of life.
\nThey, seeing and recalling soon to mind
\nUlysses, in the middle mansion stood
\nWond\u2019ring, when thus Ulysses with a voice
\nOf some reproof, but gentle, them bespake.
\nOld servant, sit and eat, banishing fear
\nAnd mute amazement; for, although provoked
\nBy appetite, we have long time abstain\u2019d,
\nExpecting ev\u2019ry moment thy return.
\nHe said; then Dolius with expanded arms
\nSprang right toward Ulysses, seized his hand,
\nKiss\u2019d it, and in wing\u2019d accents thus replied.
\nOh master ever dear! since thee the Gods
\nThemselves in answer to our warm desires,
\nHave, unexpectedly, at length restored,
\nHail, and be happy, and heav\u2019n make thee such!
\nBut say, and truly; knows the prudent Queen
\nAlready thy return, or shall we send
\nOurselves an herald with the joyful news?
\nTo whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.
\nMy ancient friend, thou may\u2019st release thy mind
\nFrom that solicitude; she knows it well.
\nSo he; then Dolius to his glossy seat
\nReturn\u2019d, and all his sons gath\u2019ring around
\nUlysses, welcom\u2019d him and grasp\u2019d his hand,
\nThen sat beside their father; thus beneath
\nLaertes\u2019 roof they, joyful, took repast.
\nBut Fame with rapid haste the city roam\u2019d
\nIn ev\u2019ry part, promulging in all ears
\nThe suitors\u2019 horrid fate. No sooner heard
\nThe multitude that tale, than one and all
\nGroaning they met and murmuring before
\nUlysses\u2019 gates. Bringing the bodies forth,
\nThey buried each his friend, but gave the dead
\nOf other cities to be ferried home
\nBy fishermen on board their rapid barks.
\nAll hasted then to council; sorrow wrung
\nTheir hearts, and, the assembly now convened,
\nArising first Eupithes spake, for grief
\nSat heavy on his soul, grief for the loss
\nOf his Antino\u00fcs by Ulysses slain
\nForemost of all, whom mourning, thus he said.
\nMy friends! no trivial fruits the Greecians reap
\nOf this man\u2019s doings. Those<\/i> he took with him
\nOn board his barks, a num\u2019rous train and bold,
\nThen lost his barks, lost all his num\u2019rous train,
\nAnd these<\/i>, our noblest, slew at his return.
\nCome therefore\u2014ere he yet escape by flight
\nTo Pylus or to noble Elis, realm
\nOf the Epeans, follow him; else shame
\nAttends us and indelible reproach.
\nIf we avenge not on these men the blood
\nOf our own sons and brothers, farewell then
\nAll that makes life desirable; my wish
\nHenceforth shall be to mingle with the shades.
\nOh then pursue and seize them ere they fly.
\nThus he with tears, and pity moved in all.
\nThen, Medon and the sacred bard whom sleep
\nHad lately left, arriving from the house
\nOf Laertiades, approach\u2019d; amid
\nThe throng they stood; all wonder\u2019d seeing them,
\nAnd Medon, prudent senior, thus began.
\nHear me, my countrymen! Ulysses plann\u2019d
\nWith no disapprobation of the Gods
\nThe deed that ye deplore. I saw, myself,
\nA Pow\u2019r immortal at the Hero\u2019s side,
\nIn semblance just of Mentor; now the God,
\nIn front apparent, led him on, and now,
\nFrom side to side of all the palace, urged
\nTo flight the suitors; heaps on heaps they fell.
\nHe said; then terrour wan seiz\u2019d ev\u2019ry cheek,
\nAnd Halitherses, Hero old, the son
\nOf Mastor, who alone among them all
\nKnew past, and future, prudent, thus began.
\nNow, O ye men of Ithaca! my words
\nAttentive hear! by your own fault, my friends,
\nThis deed hath been perform\u2019d; for when myself
\nAnd noble Mentor counsell\u2019d you to check
\nThe sin and folly of your sons, ye would not.
\nGreat was their wickedness, and flagrant wrong
\nThey wrought, the wealth devouring and the wife
\nDishonouring of an illustrious Chief
\nWhom they deem\u2019d destined never to return.
\nBut hear my counsel. Go not, lest ye draw
\nDisaster down and woe on your own heads.
\nHe ended; then with boist\u2019rous roar (although
\nPart kept their seats) upsprang the multitude,
\nFor Halitherses pleased them not, they chose
\nEupithes\u2019 counsel rather; all at once
\nTo arms they flew, and clad in dazzling brass
\nBefore the city form\u2019d their dense array.
\nLeader infatuate at their head appear\u2019d
\nEupithes, hoping to avenge his son
\nAntino\u00fcs, but was himself ordain\u2019d
\nTo meet his doom, and to return no more.
\nThen thus Minerva to Saturnian Jove.
\nOh father! son of Saturn! Jove supreme!
\nDeclare the purpose hidden in thy breast.
\nWilt thou that this hostility proceed,
\nOr wilt thou grant them amity again?
\nTo whom the cloud-assembler God replied.
\nWhy asks my daughter? didst thou not design
\nThyself, that brave Ulysses coming home
\nShould slay those profligates? act as thou wilt,
\nBut thus I counsel, since the noble Chief
\nHath slain the suitors, now let peace ensue
\nOath-bound, and reign Ulysses evermore!
\nThe slaughter of their brethren and their sons
\nTo strike from their remembrance, shall be ours.
\nLet mutual amity, as at the first,
\nUnite them, and let wealth and peace abound.
\nSo saying, he animated to her task
\nMinerva prompt before, and from the heights
\nOlympian down to Ithaca she flew.
\nMeantime Ulysses (for their hunger now
\nAnd thirst were sated) thus address\u2019d his hinds.
\nLook ye abroad, lest haply they approach.
\nHe said, and at his word, forth went a son
\nOf Dolius; at the gate he stood, and thence
\nBeholding all that multitude at hand,
\nIn accents wing\u2019d thus to Ulysses spake.
\nThey come\u2014they are already arrived\u2014arm all!
\nThen, all arising, put their armour on,
\nUlysses with his three, and the six sons
\nOf Dolius; Dolius also with the rest,
\nArm\u2019d and Laertes, although silver-hair\u2019d,
\nWarriors perforce. When all were clad alike
\nIn radiant armour, throwing wide the gates
\nThey sallied, and Ulysses led the way.
\nThen Jove\u2019s own daughter Pallas, in the form
\nAnd with the voice of Mentor, came in view,
\nWhom seeing Laertiades rejoiced,
\nAnd thus Telemachus, his son, bespake.
\nNow, oh my son! thou shalt observe, untold
\nBy me, where fight the bravest. Oh shame not
\nThine ancestry, who have in all the earth
\nProof given of valour in all ages past.
\nTo whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.
\nMy father! if thou wish that spectacle,
\nThou shalt behold thy son, as thou hast said,
\nIn nought dishonouring his noble race.
\nThen was Laertes joyful, and exclaim\u2019d,
\nWhat sun hath ris\u2019n to-day?[7]<\/sup><\/a><\/sup> oh blessed Gods!
\nMy son and grandson emulous dispute
\nThe prize of glory, and my soul exults.
\nHe ended, and Minerva drawing nigh
\nTo the old King, thus counsell\u2019d him. Oh friend
\nWhom most I love, son of Arcesias! pray\u2019r
\nPreferring to the virgin azure-eyed,
\nAnd to her father Jove, delay not, shake
\nThy lance in air, and give it instant flight.
\nSo saying, the Goddess nerved his arm anew.
\nHe sought in pray\u2019r the daughter dread of Jove,
\nAnd, brandishing it, hurl\u2019d his lance; it struck
\nEupithes, pierced his helmet brazen-cheek\u2019d
\nThat stay\u2019d it not, but forth it sprang beyond,
\nAnd with loud clangor of his arms he fell.
\nThen flew Ulysses and his noble son
\nWith faulchion and with spear of double edge
\nTo the assault, and of them all had left
\nNone living, none had to his home return\u2019d,
\nBut that Jove\u2019s virgin daughter with a voice
\nOf loud authority thus quell\u2019d them all.
\nPeace, O ye men of Ithaca! while yet
\nThe field remains undeluged with your blood.
\nSo she, and fear at once paled ev\u2019ry cheek.
\nAll trembled at the voice divine; their arms
\nEscaping from the grasp fell to the earth,
\nAnd, covetous of longer life, each fled
\nBack to the city. Then Ulysses sent
\nHis voice abroad, and with an eagle\u2019s force
\nSprang on the people; but Saturnian Jove,
\nCast down, incontinent, his smouldring bolt
\nAt Pallas\u2019 feet, and thus the Goddess spake.
\nLaertes\u2019 noble son, for wiles renown\u2019d!
\nForbear; abstain from slaughter; lest thyself
\nIncur the anger of high thund\u2019ring Jove.
\nSo Pallas, whom Ulysses, glad, obey\u2019d.
\nThen faithful covenants of peace between
\nBoth sides ensued, ratified in the sight
\nOf Pallas progeny of Jove, who seem\u2019d,
\nIn voice and form, the Mentor known to all.<\/p>\n

  1. \u03a4\u03c1\u03af\u03b6\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\u2014\u03c4\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03b3\u1fe6\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9\u2014the ghosts\r\nDid squeak and gibber in the Roman streets.\r\nShakspeare. ↵<\/a><\/li>
  2. See above. ↵<\/a><\/li>
  3. \u2014Behemoth, biggest born of earth,\r\nUpheav\u2019d his vastness. ↵<\/a><\/li>
  4. The fruit is here used for the tree that bore it, as it is in the Greek; the Latins used the same mode of expression, neither is it uncommon in our own language. ↵<\/a><\/li>
  5. See above. ↵<\/a><\/li>
  6. See above. ↵<\/a><\/li>
  7. \u03a4\u03af\u03c2 \u03bd\u03cd \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u1f21\u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03b7 \u1f25\u03b4\u03b5;\u2014So Cicero, who seems to translate it\u2014Proh dii immortales! Quis hic illuxit dies! See Clarke in loco. ↵<\/a><\/li><\/ol><\/div>","protected":false},"author":299,"menu_order":24,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[48],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-130","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry","chapter-type-numberless"],"part":3,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/130","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/299"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/130\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":264,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/130\/revisions\/264"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/3"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/130\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=130"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=130"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=130"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/odyssey\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=130"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}