Classic Poem

In Lacedaemon, large and apt for dances,
Athenian Pallas her accesse advances
Up to the great in soule, Ulysses' seed,
Suggesting his returne now fit for deed.
She found both him and Nestor's noble son
In bed, in front of that faire Mansion —
Nestorides surpriz'd with pleasing sleepe
But on the watch Ulysses' sonne did keepe;
Sleepe could not enter, cares did so excite
His soule, through all the solitary night,
For his lov'd Father. To him (neere) she said:
" Telemachus! Tis time that now were staid
Thy forreigne travailes, since thy goods are free
For those proud men that all will eate from thee,
Divide thy whole possessions, and leave
Thy too-late presence nothing to receive.
Incite the shrill-voic't Menelaus, then,
To send thee to thy Native seat agen,
While thou mayst yet finde in her honor strong
Thy blamelesse Mother 'gainst thy Father's wrong.
For both the Father, and the Brothers too,
Of thy lov'd Mother will not suffer so
Extended any more her widdowe's bed,
But make her now her richest wooer wed,
Eurymachus, who chiefly may augment
Her gifts and make her joynture eminent.
And therefore hast thee, least in thy despight
Thy house stand empty of thy Native right.
For well thou know'st what mind a woman beares:
The house of him, who ever she endeares
Her selfe in Nuptials to, she sees encreast,
The yssue of her first lov'd Lord deceast
Forgotten quite and never thought on more.
In thy returne, then, the re-counted store
Thou find'st reserv'd, to thy most trusted Maid
Commit in guard till heaven's pow'rs have purvaid
A wife in vertue and in beautie's grace
Of fit sort for thee, to supply her place.
And this note more I'le give thee, which repose
In sure remembrance: The best sort of those
That woo thy Mother watchfull scouts addresse,
Both in the streights of th'Ithacensian Seas
And dusty Samos, with intent t'invade
And take thy life, ere thy returne be made.
Which yet I thinke will faile, and some of them
That waste thy fortunes taste of that extream
They plot for thee. But keepe off farre from shore,
And day and night saile, for a fore-right blore
Who ever of th'Immortals that vow guard
And scape to thy returne will see prepar'd.
As soone as thou arriv'st, dismisse to Towne
Thy Ship and Men, and first of all make downe
To him that keepes thy Swine, and doth conceive
A tender care to see thee well survive.
There sleepe, and send him to the Towne to tell
The chast Penelope that safe and well
Thou liv'st in his charge, and that Pylos' sands
The place contain'd from whence thy person Lands."
Thus she to large Olympus made ascent —
When with his heele a little touch he lent
To Nestor's son, whose sleepe's sweet chains he losde,
Bad rise, and see in Chariot inclosde
Their one-hoov'd horse, that they might strait bee gone.
" No such haste," he replied. " Night holds her throne
And dims all way to course of Chariot.
The Morne will soone get up. Nor see forgot
The gifts with hast, that will, I know, be rich,
And put into our Coach with gracious speech
By Lance-fam'd Menelaus. Not a Guest
Shall touch at his house but shall store his brest
With fit mind of an hospitable man,
To last as long as any daylight can
His eyes re-comfort in such gifts as he
Will proofes make of his hearty royalty."
He had no sooner said, but up arose
Aurora, that the Golden hils repose.
And Menelaus (good at martiall cries)
From Helen's bed raisde, to his Guest applies
His first apparance. Whose repaire made knowne
T'Ulysses' lov'd sonne, on his robe was throwne
About his gracious body, his cloake cast
Athwart his ample shoulders, and in hast
Abroad he went and did the King accost:
" Atrides, guarded with heaven's deified hoste,
Grant now remission to my Native right,
My minde now urging mine owne house's sight."
" Nor will I stay," saide he, " thy person long,
Since thy desires to go are growne so strong.
I should my selfe be angry to sustein
The like detention urg'd by other men.
Who loves a guest past Meane, past Meane will hate:
The Meane in all acts beares the best estate.
A like ill 'tis to thrust out such a guest
As would not go as to detaine the rest.
We should a guest love while he loves to stay,
And, when he likes not, give him loving way.
Yet suffer so that we may gifts impose
In Coach to thee — which ere our hands enclose,
Thine eies shall see, lest else our loves may glose.
Besides, I'le cause our women to prepare
What our house yeelds, and meerely so much fare
As may suffise for health. Both well will do,
Both for our honor and our profit too;
And serving strength with food, you after may
As much earth measure as wil match the day.
If you will turne your course from sea and go
Through Greece and Argos (that my selfe may so
Keepe kinde way with thee), I'le joyne horse, and guide
T'our humane Cities. Nor ungratifide
Will any one remit us; some one thing
Will each present us, that along may bring
Our passe with love, and prove our vertues blaz'd —
A Caldron or a Tripod, richly braz'd,
Two Mules, a bowle of Gold, that hath his price
Heightn'd with Emblemes of some rare device."
The wise Prince answer'd: " I would gladly go
Home to mine owne, and see that govern'd so
That I may keepe what I for certaine hold,
Not hazard that for onely hop't-for Gold:
I left behind me none so all wayes fit
To give it guard as mine owne trust with it.
Besides, in this broad course which you propose,
My Father seeking, I my selfe may lose."
When this the shrill-voic't Menelaus heard,
He charg'd his Queene and Maids to see prepar'd
Breakfast of what the whole house held for best.
To him rose Eteoneus from his rest,
Whose dwelling was not farre off from the Court,
And his attendance his command did sort
With kindling fires, and furth'ring all the rost,
In act of whose charge heard no time he lost.
Himselfe then to an odorous roome descended,
Whom Megapenthes and his Queene attended.
Come to his treasury, a two-ear'd cup
He chusde of all, and made his Sonne beare up
A Silver bowle. The Queene then taking stand
Aside her Chist, where (by her owne faire hand
Lay Vests of all hues wrought) She tooke out one
Most large, most Artfull, chiefly faire, and shone
Like to a Star, and lay of al the last.
Then through the house with either's gift they past —
When to Ulysses' sonne, Atrides said:
" Telemachus, since so entirely swaid
Thy thoghts are with thy vow'd return now tender'd,
May Juno's thundring husband see it render'd
Perfect at all parts, action answering thought.
Of all the rich gifts, in my treasure sought,
I give thee heere the most in grace and best —
A Bowle, but Silver, yet the brims comprest
With Gold, whose fabricke his desert doth bring
From Vulcan's hand, presented by the King
And great Heroe of Sidonia's State,
When at our parting he did consummate
His whole house keeping. This do thou command."
This said, he put the round Bowle in his hand;
And then his strong son Megapenthes plac't
The Silver cup before him, amply grac't
With worke and luster. Helen (standing by,
And in her hand the Robe, her huswifery)
His name remembring, said: " And I present,
Lov'd sonne, this gift to thee, the Monument
Of the so-many-loved Helen's hands,
Which, at the knitting of thy Nuptiall bands,
Present thy wife. In meane space, may it ly
By thy lov'd Mother; but to me apply
Thy pleasure in it, and thus take thy way
To thy faire house and Countrie's wished stay."
Thus gave she to his hands the veile, and he
The acceptation author'd joyfully —
Which in the Chariot's Chist Pisistratus
Plac't with the rest, and held miraculous.
The yellow-headed King then led them all
To seates and Thrones plac't in his spacious Hall.
The Hand-maid water brought, and gave it stream
From out a faire and golden Ewre to them,
From whose hands to a silver Caldron fled
The troubl'd wave. A bright boord then she spred,
On which another reverend Dame set bread,
To which more servants store of victuals serv'd.
Eteoneus was the man that kerv'd,
And Megapenthes fil'd them all their wine.
All fed and dranke, till all felt care decline
For those refreshings. Both the Guests did go
To horse and coach, and forth the Portico
A little issu'd, when the yellow King
Brought wine himselfe, that with an Offering
To all the Gods they might their journey take.
He stood before the horse, and thus he spake:
" Farewell, yong Princes, to grave Nestor's eare
This salutation from my gratitude beare —
That I professe in all our Ilian warres
He stood a carefull Father to my cares."
To him the wise Ulyssides replied:
" With all our utmost shall be signified
(Jove-kept Atrides) your right royall will,
And would to God I could as wel fulfill
Mine owne minde's gratitude for your free grace
In telling to Ulysses, in the place
Of my returne, in what accomplish't kind
I have obtain'd the office of a friend
At your deservings, whose faire end you crowne
With gifts so many and of such renowne."
His wish that he might finde in his retreat
His Father safe return'd (to so repeat
The King's love to him) was saluted thus:
An Eagle rose, and in her Seres did trusse
A Goose, all white and huge, a houshold one,
Which men and women (crying out upon)
Pursu'd, but she (being neere the guests) her flight
Made on their right hand and kept still fore-right
Before their horses — which observ'd by them,
The spirits in all their minds tooke joyes extream,
Which Nestor's son thus question'd: " Jove-kept King,
Yeild your grave thoughts, if this ostentfull thing
(This Eagle and this Goose) touch us or you?"
He put to study, and not knowing how
To give fit answer, Helen tooke on her
Th'ostent's solution, and did this prefer:
" Heare me, and I will play the Prophet's part,
As the immortals cast it in my heart,
And (as I thinke) will make the true sense knowne.
As this Jove's Bird, from out the Mountaines flowne
(Where was her Arie, and whence rose her race),
Trust up this Goose that from the house did grase,
So shall Ulysses (coming from the wilde
Of Seas and sufferings) reach, unreconcil'd,
His Native home, where even this houre he is,
And on those house-fed woo'rs those wrongs of his
Will shortly wreake with all their miseries."
" O," said Telemachus, " if Saturnian Jove
To my desires thy deare presage approve,
When I arrive I will performe to thee
My daily vowes as to a Deity."
This said, he usde his scourge uppon the horse,
That through the City freely made their course
To Field, and all day made that first speed good.
But, when the Sun-set and Obscurenes stood
In each man's way, they ended their accesse
At Pheras, in the house of Diocles,
Sonne to Orsilochus, Alpheus' seede,
Who gave them guest-rites: and sleep's naturall need
They that night serv'd there. When Aurora rose,
They joyn'd their horse, tooke coach, and did dispose
Their course for Pylos, whose high City soon
They reach't. Nor would Telemachus be woon
To Nestor's house, and therefore order'd thus
His speech to Nestor's son, Pisistratus:
" How shall I win thy promise to a grace
That I must aske of thee? We both imbrace
The names of Bed-fellowes, and in that name
Will glory as an Adjunct of our fame,
Our Fathers' friendship: our owne equall age,
And our joynt travaile, may the more engage
Our mutuall concord. Do not then assay
(My God-lov'd friend) to leade me from my way
To my neere Ship, but take a course direct
And leave me there, lest thy old Sire's respect
(In his desire to love me) hinder so
My way for home, that have such need to go."
This said, Nestorides held all discourse
In his kind soule, how best he might enforce
Both promise and performance; which at last
He vow'd to venture, and directly cast
His horse about to fetch the Ship and Shore —
Where come, his frend's most lovely gifts he bore
Aboord the Ship, and in her hin-deck plac't
The vaile that Helen's curious hand had grac't,
And Menelaus' Gold, and said: " Away,
Nor let thy men in any least date stay,
But quite put off ere I get home and tell
The old Duke you are past: for passing well
I know his minde to so exceed all force
Of any pray'r that he wil stay your course,
Himselfe make hither, all your course call backe —
And, when he hath you, have no thought to racke
Him from his bounty and to let you part
Without a Present, but be vext at heart
With both our pleadings, if we once but move
The least repression of his fiery love."
Thus took he coach, his faire-man'd steeds scourg'd on
Along the Pylian City, and anon
His Father's Court reacht — while Ulysses' Sonne
Bad boord and arme, which with a thought was done.
His Rowers set, and he rich Odors firing
In his hin-decke, for his secure retiring,
To great Athenia, to his Ship came flying
A Stranger and a Prophet, as relying
On wished passage, having newly slaine
A man at Argos, yet his Race's vaine
Flow'd from Melampus, who in former date
In Pylos liv'd, and had a huge estate —
But fled his countrey and the punishing hand
Of great-soul'd Neleus, in a forreigne Land
From that most famous Mortall, having held
A world of riches, nor could be compeld
To render restitution in a yeare.
In meane space, living as close prisoner
In Court of Phylacus, and for the sake
Of Neleus' daughter, mighty cares did take,
Together with a greevous Languor sent
From grave Erinnys, that did much torment
His vexed conscience; yet his life's expence
He scapt, and drave the loud-voic't Oxen thence
To breed-sheepe Pylos, bringing vengeance thus
Her foule demerit to great Neleus,
And to his Brother's house reduc't his wife:
Who yet from Pylos did remove his life
For feed-horse Argos, where his Fate set downe
A dwelling for him, and in much renowne
Made governe many Argives, where a Spouse
He tooke to him, and built a famous house.
There had he borne to him Antiphates
And forcefull Mantius. To the first of these
Was great Oicleus borne: Oicleus gate
Amphiaraus, that the popular State
Had all their health in, whom, even from his heart
Jove lov'd, and Phaebus in the whole desert
Of friendship held him — yet not blest so much
That Age's threshold he did ever touch,
But lost his life by Female bribery.
Yet two sonnes author'd his posterity,
Alcmaeon, and renown'd Amphilochus.
Mantius had yssue Polyphidius
And Clytus, but Aurora ravish't him
For excellence of his admired lim,
And interested him amongst the Gods.
His Brother knew men's good and bad abods
The best of all men, after the decease
Of him that perish't in unnaturall peace
At spacious Thebes. Apollo did inspire
His knowing soule with a Propheticke fire —
Who (angry with his Father) tooke his way
To Hyperesia, where (making stay)
He prophesied to all men, and had there
A Sonne call'd Theoclymenus; who here
Came to Telemachus, and found abord
Himselfe at Sacrifice, whom in a word
He thus saluted: " O Friend, since I finde
Even heere at Ship a sacrificing minde
Informe your actions — by your sacrifice,
And by that worthy choise of Deities
To whom you offer, by your selfe and all
These men that serve your course maritimall,
Tell one that askes the truth, nor give it glose,
Both who and whence you are? From what seed rose
Your royall person? And what Citie's Tow'rs
Hold habitation to your parents pow'rs?"
He answer'd: " Stranger! The sure truth is this:
I am of Ithaca; my Father is
(Or was) Ulysses, but austere death now
Takes his state from him; whose event to know
(Himselfe being long away) I set forth thus
With ship and souldiers." Theoclymenus
As freely said: " And I to thee am fled
From forth my country, for a man strooke dead
By my unhappy hand, who was with me
Of one selfe-Tribe, and of his pedigree
Are many Friends and Brothers, and the sway
Of Achive Kindred reacheth farre away.
From whom, because I feare their spleenes suborne
Blood and blacke fate against me (being borne
To be a wandrer among forreigne men)
Make thy faire ship my rescue, and sustein
My life from slaughter. Thy deservings may
Performe that mercy, and to them I pray."
" Nor will I barre," said he, " thy will to make
My meanes and equall ship thy ayde, but take
(With what wee have heere, in all friendly use)
Thy life from any violence that pursues."
Thus tooke he in his Lance, and it extended
Aloft the hatches, which himselfe ascended.
The Prince tooke seate at Sterne, on his right hand
Set Theoclymenus, and gave command
To all his men to arme, and see made fast
Amidst the hollow Keele the Beechen Mast
With able halsers, hoise saile, lanch — which soone
He saw obay'd. And then his Ship did runne
A merry course. Blew-ey'd Minerva sent
A fore-right gale, tumultuous, vehement,
Along the aire, that her waie's utmost yeeld
The ship might make and plough the brackish field.
Then set the Sun, and Night black't all the waies.
The ship (with Jove's wind wing'd) wher th'Epean swaies
Fetcht Pheas first, then Elis the divine,
And then for those Isles made that Sea-ward shine,
For forme and sharpnesse like a Lance's head —
About which lay the wooers ambushed.
On which he rush't, to try if he could scape
His plotted death, or serve their treacherous Rape.
And now returne we to Eumaeus' Shed,
Where (at their foode with others marshalled)
Ulysses and his noble Herdsman sate;
To try if whose love's curious estate
Stood firme to his abode, or felt it fade,
And so would take each best cause to perswade
His Guest to Towne, Ulysses thus contends:
" Heare me, Eumaeus, and ye other Friends.
Next Morne to Towne I covet to be gone,
To beg some other's almes, not still charge one.
Advise me well then, and as well provide
I may be fitted with an honest guide,
For through the streets (since Need will have it so)
I'le tread, to try if any will bestow
A dish of drinke on me or bit of bread,
Till to Ulysses' house I may be led.
And there I'le tell all-wise Penelope newes,
Mix with the wooers' pride, and (since they use
To fare above the full) their hands excite
To some small Feast from out their infinite —
For which I'le waite, and play the Servingman
Fairely enough, command the most they can.
For I will tell thee — note me well, and heare —
That if the will be of heaven's Messenger
(Who to the workes of men of any sort
Can grace infuse, and glory) nothing short
Am I of him that doth to most aspire
In any service, as to builde a Fire,
To cleave sere wood, to roast or boile their meat,
To waite at boord, mixe wine, or know the Neate,
Or any worke in which the poore-cal'd worst
To serve the rich-cal'd best in Fate are forc't."
He, angry with him, said: " Alas, poore Guest,
Why did this counsaile ever touch thy brest?
Thou seek'st thy utter spoyle beyond all doubt,
If thou giv'st venture on the Wooers' rout,
Whose wrong and force affects the Iron heaven.
Their light delights are farre from being given
To such grave Servitors. Youths richly trick't
In coats or Cassocks, Lockes divinely slickt,
And lookes most rapting, ever have the gift
To taste their crown'd cups and full Trenchers shift.
Their Tables ever like their Glasses shine,
Loaded with bread, with varied flesh, and wine.
And thou go thither? Stay: for heere do none
Grudge at thy presence — nor my selfe, nor one
Of all I feed. But when Ulysses' sonne
Againe shall greet us, he shall put thee on
Both coat and cassocke, and thy quicke retreat
Set where thy heart and soule desire thy seat."
Industrious Ulysses gave reply:
" I still much wish that heaven's chiefe Deity
Lov'd thee as I do, that hast easde my minde
Of woes and wandrings, never yet confin'de.
Nought is more wretched in a humane Race
Than Countrie's want, and shift from place to place.
But for the banefull belly men take care
Beyond good counsaile, whosoever are
In compasse of the wants it undergoes
By wandrings' losses or dependant woes.
Excuse me, therefore, if I err'd at home,
Which since thou wilt make heere (as overcome
With thy command for stay) I'le take on me
Cares appertaining to this place, like thee.
Does then Ulysses' Sire and Mother breath,
Both whom he left in th'age next doore to death?
Or are they breathlesse, and descended where
The darke house is that never day doth cleere?"
" Laertes lives," saide he, " but every howre
Beseecheth Jove to take from him the powre
That joynes his life and limbes, for with a mone
That breeds a mervaile he laments his sonne
Depriv'd by death. And addes to that another
Of no lesse depth for that dead sonne's dead Mother —
Whom he a Virgin wedded, which the more
Makes him lament her losse, and doth deplore
Yet more her misse, because her wombe the truer
Was to his brave sonne, and his slaughter slue her —
Which last love to her doth his life engage,
And makes him live an undigested age.
O! such a death she died as never may
Seize any one that heere beholds the day,
That either is to any man a friend,
Or can a woman kill in such a kind.
As long as she had Being, I would be
A still Inquirer (since t'was deere to me,
Though death to her, to heare his name) when she
Heard of Ulysses: for I might be bold;
She brought me up, and in her love did hold
My life compar'd with long-vail'd Ctimene,
Her yongest yssue (in some small degree
Her daughter yet prefer'd), a brave yong Dame.
But when of youth the dearely loved Flame
Was lighted in us, marriage did prefer
The maide to Samos, whence was sent for her
Infinite riches, when the Queene bestow'd
A faire new suite, new shooes and all, and vow'd
Me to the field — but passing loth to part,
As loving me more than she lov'd her hart.
And these I want now; but their businesse growes
Upon me daily, which the Gods impose,
To whom I hold all, give account to them —
For I see none left to the Diadem
That may dispose all better. So I drinke
And eate of what is heere, and whom I think
Worthy or reverend I have given to still
These kinds of Guest-rites: for the houshold ill
(Which, where the Queene is, ryots) takes her stil
From thought of these things. Nor is it delight
To heare, from her plight, of or worke or word;
The woo'rs spoyle all. But yet my men will bord
Her sorrowes often with discourse of all,
Eating and drinking of the Festivall
That there is kept, and after bring to field
Such things as servants make their pleasures yield."
" O me, Eumaeus," saide Laertes' sonne,
" Hast thou then err'd so, of a little one,
Like me, from friends, and country? Pray thee say
(And say a Truth), doth vast Destruction lay
Her hand upon the wide-way'd Seat of men,
Where dwelt thy Sire and reverend Mother then,
That thou art spar'd there? Or else, set alone
In guard of Beeves, or Sheepe, set th'enemy on,
Surprisde and Shipt, transfer'd, and sold thee heere?
He that bought thee, paid well, yet bought not deere."
" Since thou enquir'st of that, my guest," said he,
" Heare and be silent: and, meane space, sit free
In use of these cups to thy most delights;
Unspeakable in length now are the Nights.
Those that affect sleepe yet to sleepe have leave;
Those that affect to heare, their hearers give.
But sleep not ere your houre. Much sleep doth grieve .
Who ever lists to sleepe — away to bed,
Together with the morning raise his head,
Together with his fellowes breake his fast,
And then his Lord's Herd drive to their repast.
We two, still in our Tabernacle heere
Drinking and eating, will our bosomes cheere
With memories and tales of our annoyes.
Betwixt his sorrowes every Humane joyes —
He most, who most hath felt and furthest err'd.
And now thy wil to act shall be preferr'd.
" There is an Isle above Ortygia
(If thou hast heard) they call it Syria —
Where once a day the Sun moves backwards still.
Tis not so great as good, for it doth fill
The fields with Oxen, fils them still with Sheepe,
Fils roofes with wine, and makes al Corne there cheap:
No Dearth comes ever there, nor no Disease,
That doth with hate us wretched mortals sease.
But when men's varied Nations, dwelling there
In any City, enters th'aged yeare,
The Silver-bow-bearer (the Sun) and she
That beares as much renowne for Archery
Stoope with their painles shafts, and strike them dead,
As one would sleepe, and never keepe the bed.
In this Isle stand two Cities, betwixt whome
All things that of the soile's fertility come
In two parts are divided. And both these,
My Father ruld (Ctesius Ormenides),
A man like the immortals. With these States
The crosse-biting Phaenicians traffick't rates
Of infinit Merchandize in ships brought there,
In which they then were held exempt from pere.
" There dwelt within my Father's house a Dame
Borne a Phaenician, skilfull in the frame
Of Noble Huswiferies, right tall, and faire.
Her the Phaenician great-wench-net-layer
With sweet words circumvented as she was
Washing her Linnen. To his amorous passe
He brought her first, shor'd from his Ship to her,
To whom he did his whole life's love prefer,
Which of these brest-exposing Dames the harts
Deceives, though fashion'd of right honest parts.
He askt her after, What she was, and whence?
She passing presently the excellence
Told of her Father's Turrets, and that she
Might boast her selfe sprung from the Progeny
Of the rich Sidons, and the daughter was
Of the much-yeare-revennew'd Arybas —
But that the Taphian Pirats made her prize
As she return'd from her field-huswiferies,
Transfer'd her hither, and at that man's house
Where now she liv'd for value precious
Sold her to th'Owner. He that stole her love
Bad her againe to her birth's seate remove,
To see the faire roofes of her friends againe,
Who still held state and did the port maintaine
Her selfe reported. She said: " Be it so,
So you and al that in your ship shall roe
Sweare to returne me in all safety hence. "
" All swore; th'Oath past with every consequence,
She bad: " Be silent now, and not a word
Do you or any of your friends afford,
Meeting me afterward in any way,
Or at the washing Fount, lest some display
Be made and told the old man, and he then
Keepe me streight bound, to you and to your men
The utter ruine plotting of your lives.
Keepe in firme thought then every word that strives
For dangerous utterance. Haste your ship's ful freight
Of what you Trafficke for, and let me streight
Know by some sent friend: " She hath all in hold," —
And (with my selfe) I'le bring thence all the gold
I can by all meanes finger: and, beside,
I'le do my best to see your freight supplide
With some wel-weighing burthen of mine owne.
For I bring up in house a great man's sonne,
As crafty as my selfe, who will with me
Run every way along, and I will be
His Leader till your Ship hath made him sure.
He will an infinite great price procure,
Transfer him to what languag'd men ye may. "
" This said, she gat her home, and they made stay
A whole yeare with us, Goods of great availe
Their Ship enriching. Which now fit for saile,
They sent a Messenger t'informe the Dame:
And to my father's house a fellow came,
Full of Phaenician craft, that to be sold
A Tablet brought, the body all of Gold,
The Verge all Amber. This had ocular view
Both by my honor'd Mother and the crew
Of her house-handmaids, handl'd, and the price
Beat, askt, and promist. And while this device
Lay thus upon the Forge, this Jeweller
Made privy signes (by winkes and wiles) to her
That was his object, which she tooke, and he
(His signe seeing noted) hied to Ship. When she
(My hand still taking, as she usde to do
To walke abroad with her) convai'd me so
Abroad with her, and in the Portico
Found cups, with tasted Viands, which the guests
That usde to flocke about my Father's feasts
Had left. They gone (some to the Counsaile Court,
Some to heare newes amongst the talking sort)
Her Theft three bowles into her lap convaid,
And forth she went. Nor was my wit so staid
To stay her, or my selfe. The Sun went downe,
And shadowes round about the world were flowne,
When we came to the haven, in which did ride
The swift Phaenician Ship — whose faire broad side
They boorded straight, tooke us up, and all went
Along the moyst waies. Winde Saturnius sent.
Six dayes we day and night sayl'd; but when Jove
Put up the seventh day, She that shafts doth love
Shot dead the woman, who into the pumpe
Like to a Dop-chicke div'd, and gave a thumpe
In her sad setling. Forth they cast her then
To serve the Fish and Sea-calves, no more Men —
But I was left there with a heavy hart.
When winde and water drave them quite apart
Their owne course, and on Ithaca they fell,
And there poore me did to Laertes sell:
And thus these eyes the sight of this Isle prov'd."
" Eumaeus," he replyed, " Thou much hast mov'd
The minde in me with all things thou hast said,
And all the sufferance on thy bosome laid:
But (truly) to thy ill hath Jove joyn'd good,
That one whose veines are serv'd with humane blood
Hath bought thy service, that gives competence
Of food, wine, cloth to thee. And sure th'expence
Of thy life's date heere is of good desart —
Whose labours not to thee alone impart
Sufficient food and housing, but to me —
Where I through many a heap't humanity
Have hither err'd, where, though (like thee) not sold,
Not staid like thee yet, nor nought needfull hold."
This mutuall speech they usd, nor had they slept
Much time before the much-nere-morning lept
To her faire throne. And now strooke saile the men
That serv'd Telemachus, arriv'd just then
Nere his lov'd shore — wher now they stoopt the Mast,
Made to the Port with Oares, and Anchor cast,
Made fast the Ship; and then ashore they went,
Drest supper, fil'd wine; when (their appetites spent)
Telemachus commanded they should yield
The Ship to th'owner, while himselfe at field
Would see his shepherds; when light drew to end
He would his gifts see and to Towne descend,
And in the morning at a Feast bestow
Rewards for all their paines. " And whither, now,"
Said Theoclymenus, " my loved Son,
Shall I addresse my selfe? Whose mansion,
Of all men in this rough-hewne Isle, shall I
Direct my way to? Or go readily
To thy house, and thy Mother?" He replied:
" Another time I'le see you satisfied
With my house entertainment: but as now
You should encounter none that could bestow
Your fit entreaty, and (which lesse grace were)
You could not see my Mother, I not there —
For shee's no frequent object, but apart
Keepes from her wooers, woo'd with her desart,
Up in her chamber, at her Huswifery.
But I'le name one to whom you shall apply
Direct repaire, and that's Eurymachus,
Renown'd descent to wise Polybius,
A man whom th'Ithacensians looke on now
As on a God, since he of all that wow
Is farre superior man, and likest far
To wed my mother, and as circular
Be in that honor as Ulysses was.
But heaven-housd Jove knowes the yet hidden passe
Of her disposure, and on them he may
A blacker sight bring than her Nuptiall day."
As this he utter'd, on his right hand flew
A Saker, sacred to the God of view,
That in his Tallons trust and plum'd a Dove;
The Feathers round about the Ship did rove,
And on Telemachus fell, whom th'Augure then
Tooke fast by th' hand, withdrew him from his men,
And said: " Telemachus, this Hawke is sent
From God; I knew it for a sure Ostent
When first I saw it. Be you well assur'd
There will no wooer be by heaven indur'd
To rule in Ithaca above your Race,
But your pow'rs ever fill the Regall place."
" I wish to heaven," said he, " thy word might stand;
Thou then shouldst soon acknowledge from my hand
Such gifts and friendship as would make thee, Guest,
Met and saluted as no lesse than blest."
This said, he call'd Piraeus, Clytius' sonne,
His true associate, saying: " Thou hast done
(Of all my Followers to the Pylian shore)
My will in chiefe in other things. Once more,
Be chiefly good to me: take to thy house
This loved stranger, and be studious
T'embrace and greete him with thy greatest fare
Till I my selfe come and take off thy care."
The famous for his Lance saide: " If your stay
Take time for life heere, this man's care I'le lay
On my performance, nor what fits a Guest
Shall any penury with-hold his Feast."
Thus tooke he ship, bad them boord, and away.
They boorded, sate, but did their labour stay
Till he had deckt his feete and reacht his Lance.
They to the City: he did straight advance
Up to his Sties, where Swine lay for him store,
By whose sides did his honest Swine-herd snore
Till his short cares his longest Nights had ended,
And nothing worse to both his Lords intended.