Thy wondering eyes shall view: his rightful reign
By arms vowed Ulysses shall regain,
And to the shades devote the suitor-train.

O Jove supreme! the raptured swain replies,
With deeds consummate soon the promised joys!
These aged nerves, with new born vigour strung,
In that blest cause should emulate the young--
Assents Eumæus to the prayer addrest;
And equal ardours fire his loyal breast.

Meantime the suitors urge the prince's fate,
And deathful arts employ the dire debate:
When in his airy tour, the bird of Jove
Truss'd with his sinewy pounce a trembling dove:
Sinister to their hope! This omen eyed
Amphinomus, who thus presaging cried.

1

Or, if each other's wrongs ye still support,
With rapes and riot to profane my court;
What single arm with numbers can contend?
On me let all your lifted swords descend,
295 And with my life such vile dishonours end,
A long cessation of discourse ensued,
By gentle Agelaus thus renew'd.

385

305

The gods from force and fraud the prince defend

And give the present hour to genial joy.

311

A just reproof, ye peers! your rage restrain
From the protected guest, and menial train:
300 And, prince! to stop the source of future ill,
Assent yourself, and gain the royal will.
Whilst hope prevail'd to see your sire restored,
Of right the queen refused a second lord:
But who so void of faith, so blind to fate,
To think he still survives to claim the state?
Now press the sovereign dame with warm desire
To wed, as wealth or worth her choice inspire:
The lord selected to the nuptial joys,
Far hence will lead the long-contested prize:
Whilst in paternal pomp with plenty bless'd,
You reign, of this imperial dome possess'd.
Sage and serene Telemachus replies:
By him, at whose behest the thunder flies,
And by the name on earth I most revere,
315 By great Ulysses and his woes I swear!

399

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405

From council straight the assenting peerage ceased.
And in the dome prepared the genial feast.
Disrobed, their vests apart in order lay,
Then all with speed succinct the victims slay;
With sheep and shaggy goats the porkers bled,
And the proud steer was on the marble spread.
With fire prepared, they deal the morsels round,
Wine, rosy-bright, the brimming goblets crown'd,
By sage Eumæus borne; the purple tide
Melanthius from an ample jar supplied:
High cannisters of bread Philætius placed;
And eager all devour the rich repast.
Disposed apart, Ulysses shares the treat;
A trivet table, and ignobler seat,

The prince appoints; but to his sire assigns
The tasteful inwards, and nectareous wines.
Partake, my guest, he cried, without control
The social feast, and drain the cheering bowl:
Dread not the railer's laugh, nor ruffian's rage;
No vulgar roof protects thy honour'd age;
This dome a refuge to thy wrongs shall be,
From my great sire too soon devolved to me!
Your violence and scorn, ye suitors, cease,
Lest arms avenge the violated peace.

(Who never must review his dear domain;
Enroll'd, perhaps, in Pluto's dreary train),
Whene'er her choice the royal dame avows,
My bridal gifts shall load the future spouse:
320 But from this dome my parent queen to chase!
From me, ye gods! avert such dire disgrace.
But Pallas clouds with intellectual gloom
The suitors' souls, insensate of their doom!
A mirthful frenzy seized the fated crowd;
325 The roofs resound with causeless laughter loud:
Floating in gore, portentous to survey!
In each discolour'd vase the viands lay:
Then down each cheek the tears spontaneous flow,
And sudden sighs precede approaching woe.

330 In vision rapt, the Hyperesian seer*

Uprose, and thus divined the vengeance near.

340

410

415

420

O race to death devote! with Stygian shade
Each destined peer impending fates invade:
With tears your wan distorted cheeks are drown'd; 425
With sunguine drops the walls are rubied round:
Thick swarms the spacious hall with howling ghosts,
To people Orcus, and the burning coasts!
Nor gives the sun his golden orb to roll,
But universal night usurps the pole!

430

Awed by the prince, so haughty, brave, and young,
Rage gnaw'd the lip, amazement chain'd the tongue. 335
Be patient, peers! at length Antinous cries;
The threats of vain imperious youth despise :
Would Jove permit the meditated blow,
That stream of eloquence should cease to flow.
Without reply vouchsafed, Antinous ceased:
Meanwhile the pomp of festival increased:
By heralds rank'd, in marshall'd order move
The city tribes, to pleased Apollo's grove:
Beneath the verdure of which awful shade,
The lunar hecatomb they grateful laid:
Partook the sacred feast, and ritual honours paid.
But the rich banquet, in the dome prepared
(An humble sideboard set) Ulysses shared.
Observant of the prince's high behest,
His menial train attend the stranger-guest:
Whom Pallas with unpardoning fury fired
By lordly pride and keen reproach inspired.
A Samian peer, more studious than the rest
Of vice, who teem'd with many a dead-born'jest;
And urged, for title to a consort queen,
Unnumber'd acres arable and green
(Ctesippus named); this lord Ulysses eyed,
And thus burst out the imposthumate with pride.
The sentence I propose, ye peers, attend:
Since due regard must wait the prince's friend,
Let each a token of esteem bestow:
This gift acquits the dear respect I owe ;
With which he nobly may discharge his seat,
And pay the menials for the master's treat.

He said; and of the steer before him placed,
That sinewy fragment at Ulysses cast,
Where to the pastern-bone, by nerves combined,
The well-horned foot indissolubly join'd;
Which whizzing high, the wall unseemly sign'd.
The chief indignant grins a ghastly smile;
Revenge and seorn within his bosom boil:
When thus the prince with pious rage inflamed:
Had not the inglorious wound thy malice aim'd
Fall'n guiltless of the mark, my certain spear
Had made thee buy the brutal triumph dear:
Nor should thy sire a queen his daughter boast
The suitor, now, had vanish'd in a ghost:
No more, ye loud compeers, with lawless power
Invade my dome, my herds and flocks devour:
For genuine worth, of age mature to know,
My grape shall redden, and my harvest grow.

355 His honour'd host, a welcome inmate there.
O'er the protracted feast the suitors sit,
And aim to wound the prince with pointless wit:
Cries one, with scornful leer and mimic voice,
Thy charity we praise, but not thy choice;
360 Why such profusion of indulgence shown
To this poor, timorous, toil-detesting drone?
That other feeds on planetary schemes,
And pays his host with hideous noon-day dreams.
But, prince! for once at least believe a friend,
365 To some Sicilian mart these courtiers send,
Where if they yield their freight across the main,
Dear sell the slaves! demand no greater gain.
Thus jovial they; but nought the prince replies;
Full on his sire he rolls his ardent eyes;
370 Impatient straight to flesh his virgin-sword:
From the wise chief he waits the deathful word,
Nigh in her bright alcove, the pensive queen
To see the circle sate, of all unseen.
Sated at length they rise, and bid prepare
375 An eve-repast, with equal cost and care;
But vengeful Pallas, with preventing speed
A feast proportion'd to their crimes decreed;
A feast of death! the feasters doom'd to bleed!

Penelope, to put an end to the solicitation of the suitors, proposes to marry the person who shall first bend the bow of Ulysses, and shoot through the ringlets. After their attempts have proved ineffectual, Ulysses, taking Eumaus and Philætius apart, discovers himself to them; then returning, desires leave to try his strength at the bow, which, though refused with indignation by the suitors, Penelope and Telemachus cause it to be delivered to his hands. He bends it immediately, and shoots through all the rings. Jupiter at the same instant thunders from heaven; Ulysses accepts the omen, and gives a sign to Telemachus, who stands ready armed at his side.

He, only he, of all the suitor-throng,
Their deeds detested, and abjured the wrong.
With tender hands the stubborn horn he strains,
The stubborn horn resisted all his pains!
Already in despair he gives it o'er:
Take it who will, he cries, I strive no more.
What numerous deaths attend this fatal bow!
What souls and spirits shall it send below!
Better, indeed, to die, and fairly give
Nature her debt, than disappointed live,
With each new sun to some new hope a prey,
Yet still to-morrow falser than to-day.
How long in vain Penelope we sought!
This bow shall ease us of that idle thought,
And send us with some humbler wife to live,
Whom gold shall gain, or destiny shall give.

Thus speaking, on the floor the bow he placed
(With rich inlay the various floor was graced):
At distance far the feather'd shaft he throws,
And to the seat returns from whence he rose.
To him Antinoüs thus with fury said:
What words ill-omen'd from thy lips have fled?
Thy coward-function ever is in fear;

Those arms are dreadful which thou canst not bear.
Why should this bow be fatal to the brave?
Because the priest is born a peaceful slave.
Mark then what others can-He ended there,
And bade Melanthius a vast pile prepare;
He gives it instant flame, then fast beside
Spreads o'er an ample board a bullock's hide.
With melted lard they soak the weapon o'er,
Chafe every knot, and supple every pore.
Vain all their art, and all their strength as vain;
The bow inflexible resists their pain.
The force of great Eurymachus alone
And bold Antinous, yet untried, unknown:
Those only now remain'd; but those confess'd
Of all the train the mightiest and the best.

Then from the hall, and from the noisy crew,
The masters of the herd and flock withdrew.
The king observes them, he the hall forsakes,
And, past the limits of the court, o'ertakes,
Then thus with accent mild Ulysses spoke:
Ye faithful guardians of the herd and flock!
Shall I the secret of my breast conceal,
Or, (as my soul now dictates) shall I tell?
Say, should some favouring god restore again
The lost Ulysses to his native reign,

How beat your hearts? what aid would you afford
To the proud suitors, or your ancient lord?

Philætius thus: O were thy word not vain!
Would mighty Jove restore that man again!
These aged sinews, with new vigour strung,
In his blest cause should emulate the young.
With equal vows Eumæus too implored
Each power above, with wishes for his lord.

He saw their secret souls, and thus began:
Those vows the gods accord, behold the inan!
Your own Ulysses! twice ten years detain'd
By woes and wanderings from this hapless land:
At length he comes; but comes despised, unknown,
And finding faithful, you, and you alone.
All else have cast him from their very thought,
Even in their wishes and their prayers forgot!
Hear then, my friends: If Jove this arm succeed
And give yon impious revellers to bleed,
My care shall be to bless your future lives
With large possessions and with faithful wives;
Fast by my palace shall your domes ascend,
And each on young Telemachus attend,
And each be call'd his brother and my friend.
To give you firmer faith, now trust your eye;
Lo! the broad scar indented on my thigh,
When with Autolycus's sons, of yore,
On Parnass' top I chased the tusky boar.
His ragged vest then drawn aside disclosed
The sign conspicuous, and the scar exposed:
Eager they view'd; with joy they stood amazed:
With tearful eyes o'er all their master gazed:
Around his neck their longing arms they cast,
His head, his shoulders, and his knees embraced:
Tears follow'd tears: no word was in their power;
In solemn silence fell the kindly shower.
The king too weeps, the king too grasps their hands,
And moveless, as a marble fountain, stands.

Thus had their joy wept down the setting sun,
But first the wise man ceased, and thus begun:
Enough-on other cares your thought employ,
For danger waits on all untimely joy.
Full many foes, and fierce, observe us near;
Some may betray, and yonder walls may hear

155

Re-enter then, not all at once, but stay
Some moments you, and let me lead the way.
To me, neglected as I am, I know

The haughty suitors will deny the bow;
But thou, Eumæus, as 'tis borne away,

160 Thy master's weapon to his hand convey.
At every portal let some matron wait,
And each lock fast the well-compacted gate:
Close let them keep whate'er invades their ear;
Though arms, or shouts, or dying groans they hear.

250

255

165 To thy strict charge, Philætius we consign

170 And turns the bow, and chafes it with his hands:
Still the tough bow unmoved. The lofty man
Sigh'd from his mighty soul, and thus began:

I mourn the common cause; for, oh, my friends On me, on all, what grief, what shame attends! 175 Not the lost nuptials can affect me more

265

(For Greece has beauteous dames on every shore),
But baffled thus! confess'd so far below
Ulysses' strength, as not to bend his bow!
How shall all ages our attempt deride!

180 Our weakness scorn! Antinoüs thus replied:
Not so, Eurymachus: that no man draws
The wondrous bow, attend another cause.
Sacred to Phoebus is the solemn day,

270

Which thoughtless we in games would waste away; 275

185 Till the next dawn this ill-timed strife forego,
And here leave fix'd the ringlets in a row.
Now bid the sewer approach, and let us join
In due libations, and in rites divine,
So end our night: before the day shall spring,
190 The choicest offerings let Melanthius bring;
Let them to Phoebus' name the fatted thighs
Feed the rich smokes, high curling to the skies,
So shall the patron of these arts bestow
(For his the gift) the skill to bend the bow.

195

They heard well-pleased: the ready heralds bring
The cleansing waters from the limpid spring:
The goblet high with rosy wine they crown'd,
In order circling to the peers around.
That rite complete, uprose the thoughtful man

200 And thus his meditated scheme began:

280

285

290

205

If what I ask, your noble minds approve,
Ye peers and rivals in the royal love!
Chief, if it hurt not great Antinoüs' ear
(Whose sage decision I with wonder hear),
And if Eurymachus the motion please:
Give Heaven this day, and rest the bow in peace,
To-morrow let your arms dispute the prize,
And take it he, the favoured of the skies!
But, since till then this trial you delay,
210 Trust it one moment to my hands to-day:

295

300

Is common sense quite banish'd from thy breast?
220 Sufficed it not, within the palace placed,
To sit distinguish'd with our presence graced,
Admitted here with princes to confer,
A man unknown, a needy wanderer?
To copious wine this insolence we owe,
225 And much thy betters wine can overthrow:
The great Eurytion when this phrensy stung,
Pirithous' roofs with frantic riof rung;
Boundless the Centaur raged; till one and all
The heroes rose, and dragg'd him from the hall;
230 His nose they shorten'd, and his ears they slit,
And sent him sober'd home with better wit.
Hence with long war the double race was cursed,
Fatal to all, but to the aggressor first.
Such fate I prophesy our guest attends,
If here this interdicted bow he bends:
Nor shall these walls such insolence contain ;
The first fair wind transports him o'er the main
Where Echetus to deatli the guilty brings
(The worst of mortals, even the worst of kings).
Better than that, if thou approve our cheer;
Cease the mad strife, and share our bounty here.
To this the queen her just dislike express'd:
Tie impious, prince, to harm the stranger-guest,
Base to insult who bears a suppliant's name,
245 And some respect Telemachus may claim.

3

What if the immortals on the man bestow
Sufficient strength to draw the mighty bow?
Shall 1, a queen, by rival chiefs adored,
Accept a wandering stranger for my lord?
A hope so idle never touch'd his brain:
Then ease your bosoms of a fear so vain.
Far be he banish'd from this stately scene
Who wrongs his princess with a thought so mean.
O fair! and wisest of so fair a kind!
(Respectful thus Eurymachus rejoin'd),
Moved by no weak surmise, but sense of shame,
We dread the all-arraigning voice of Fame:
We dread the censure of the meanest slave,
The weakest woman: all can wrong the brave.
Behold what wretches to the bed pretend

Of that brave chief, whose bow they could not bend !
In came a beggar of the strolling crew,
And did what all those princes could not do.'
Thus will the common voice our deed defame,
And thus posterity upbraid our name.

To whom the queen: If fame engage your views,
Forbear those acts which infamy pursues;
Wrong and oppression no renown can raise ;
Know, friend! that virtue is the path to praise.
The stature of our guest, his port, his face,
Speak him descended from no vulgar race.
To him the bow, as he desires, convey;
And to his hand if Phoebus give the day,
Hence, to reward his merit, he shall bear
A two-edged falchion and a shining spear,
Embroider'd sandals, a rich cloak and vest,
A safe conveyance to his port of rest.

O royal mother! ever honour'd name!
Permit me (cries Telemachus), to claim
A son's just right. No Grecian prince but I
Has power this bow to grant, or to deny.
Of all that Ithaca's rough hills contain,
And all wide Elis' courser-breeding plain,
To me alone my father's arms descend;
And mine alone they are, to give or lend.
Retire, ob queen! thy household task resume,
Tend, with thy maids, the labours of thy loom;
The bow, the darts, and arms of chivalry,
These cares to man belong, and most to me.
Mature beyond his years, the queen admired
His sage reply, and with her train retired;
There in her chamber as she sate apart,
Revolved his words, and placed them in her heart.
On her Ulysses then she fix'd her soul;
Down her fair cheek the tears abundant roll,
Till gentle Pallas, piteous of her cries,
In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes.
Now through the press the bow Eumæus bore,
And all was riot, noise, and wild uproar.
Hold! lawless rustic! whither wilt thou go?
To whom, incensate, dost thou bear the bow?
Exiled for this to some sequester'd den,
Far from the sweet society of men,

Lest time or worms had done the weapon wrong,
Its owner absent, and untried so long.
While some deriding-How he turns the bow!
340 Some other like it sure the man must know,
Or else would copy; or in bows he deals;
Perhaps he makes them, or perhaps he steals.-
Heaven, to this wretch (another cried) be kind!
And bless, in all to which he stands inclined,
345 With such good fortune as he now shall find.

350

Heedless he heard them: but disdain'd reply;
The bow perusing with exactest eye
Then, as some heavenly minstrel, taught to sing
High notes responsive to the trembling string,
To some new strain when he adapts the lyre,
Or the dumb lute refits with vocal wire,
Relaxes, strains, and draws them to and fro;
So the great master drew the mighty bow:
And drew with ease. One hand aloft display'd
355 The bending horns, and one the string essay'd.
From his essaying hand the string let fly.
Twang'd short and sharp like the shrill swallow's cry.
A general horror ran through all the race,
Sunk was each heart, and pale was every face.
360 Signs from above ensued: the unfolding sky
In lightning burst; Jove thunder'd from on high.
Fired at the call of heaven's Almighty Lord,
He snatch'd the shaft that glitter'd on the board
(Fast by, the rest lay sleeping in the sheath,
365 But soon to fly the messengers of death).

430

435

440

445

450

455

Now sitting as he was, the cord he drew,
Through every ringlet levelling his view;
Then notch'd the shaft, released, and gave it wing; 460
The whizzing arrow vanish'd from the string,

370 Sung on direct, and threaded every ring.

The solid gate its fury scarcely bounds;

Pierced through and through, the solid gate resounds.
Then to the prince: Nor have I wrought thee shame:
Nor err'd this hand unfaithful to its aim;

375 Nor proved the toil too hard; nor have I lost
That ancient vigour, once my pride and boast.
Ill I deserved these haughty peers' disdain;
Now let them comfort their detected train,
In sweet repast their present hour employ,
380 Nor wait till evening for the genial joy:
Then to the lute's soft voice prolong the night;
Music, the banquet's most refined delight.

He said, then gave a nod; and at the word
Telemachus girds on his shining sword.
385 Fast by his father's side he takes his stand:
The beamy javelin lightens in his hand.

466

470

475

To thy own dogs a prey thou shalt be made;
If Heaven and Phoebus lend the suitors aid.

395

Young as I am, thy prince's vengeful hand

400

405

410

Stretch'd forth in wrath, shall drive thee from the land.
Oh! could the vigour of this arm as well
The oppressive suitors from my walls expel!
Then what a shoal of lawless men should go
To fill with tumult the dark courts below!
The suitors with a scornful smile survey
The youth, indulging in the genial day.
Eumæus, thus encouraged, hastes to bring
'The strifeful bow, and gives it to the king.
Old Euryclea calling them aside,
Hear what Telemachus enjoins (he cried):
At every portal let some matron wait,
And each lock fast the well-compacted
And if unusual sounds invade their ear,
If arms, or shonts, or dying groans they hear,
Let none to call or issue forth presume,
But close attend the labours of the loom.
Her prompt obedience on his order waits;
Closed in an instant were the palace gates.
In the same moment forth Philætius flies,
Secures the court, and with a cable ties
The utmost gate (the cable strongly wrought
Of Byblos' reed, a ship from Egypt brought);
Then unperceived and silent at the board
His seat he takes, his eyes upon his lord.

gate;

And now his well-known bow the master bore, Turn'd on all sides, and view'd it o'er and o'er;

ARGUMENT.

The Death of the Suitors.

Ulysses begins the slaughter of the suitors by the death of Antinous. He declares himself, and lets fly his arrows at the rest. Telemachus assists, and brings arms for his father, himself, Eumæus, and Philoetius. Melanthius does the same for the wooers. Minerva encourages Ulysses in the shape of Mentor. The suitors are all slain, only Medon and Phemius are spared. Melanthius and the unfaithful servants are executed. The rest acknowledge their master with all demonstrations of joy.

BOOK XXII.

THEN fierce the hero o'er the threshola strode;
Stript of his rags, he blazed out like a god.

415 Full in their face the lifted bow he bore.
And quiver'd-deaths, a formidable store:
Before his feet the rattling shower he threw,
And thus, terrific, to the suitor-crew:
One venturous game this hand has won to-day,
420 Another, princes! yet remains to play;
Another mark our arrow must attain.
Phoebus, assist! nor be the labour vain.
Swift as the word the parting arrow sings,
And bears thy fate, Antinous, on its wings:
425 Wretch that he was, of unprophetic soul!

High in his hands, he rear'd the golden bowl!
Even then to drain it lengthen'd out his breath;
Changed to the deep, the bitter draught of death:

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