Classic Poem

In Lacedaemon now, the nurse of Whales,
These two arriv'd, and found at festivals
(With mightie concourse) the renowmed King,
His sonne and daughter joyntly marrying.
Alector's daughter he did give his sonne,
Strong Megapenthes, who his life begunne
By Menelaus' bondmaid; whom he knew
In yeares, when Helen could no more renew
In issue like divine Hermione,
Who held in all faire forme as high degree
As golden Venus. Her he married now
To great Achilles' sonne, who was by vow
Bethrothd to her at Troy. And thus the Gods
To constant loves give nuptiall periods.
Whose state here past, the Myrmidons' rich towne
(Of which she shar'd in the Imperiall Crowne)
With horse and chariots he resign'd her to.
Meane space, the high huge house with feast did flow
Of friends and neighbours, joying with the King.
Amongst whom did a heavenly Poet sing
And touch his Harpe. Amongst whom likewise danc't
Two, who, in that dumbe motion advanc't,
Would prompt the Singer what to sing and play.
All this time in the utter Court did stay,
With horse and chariot, Telemachus
And Nestor's noble sonne, Pisistratus.
Whom Eteoneus, coming forth, descried,
And, being a servant to the King most tried
In care and his respect, he ranne and cried:
" Guests! Jove-kept Menelaus! two such men
As are for forme of high Saturnius' straine!
Informe your pleasure, if we shall unclose
Their horse from coach, or say they must dispose
Their way to some such house as may embrace
Their knowne arrivall with more welcome grace?"
He (angry) answerd: " Thou didst never show
Thy selfe a foole, Boethides, till now;
But now (as if turnd child) a childish speech
Vents thy vaine spirits. We our selves now reach
Our home by much spent hospitalitie
Of other men, nor know if Jove will trie
With other after wants our state againe.
And therefore from our feast no more detaine
Those welcome guests, but take their Steeds from Coach
And with attendance guide in their approach."
This said, he rusht abroad and calld some more
Tried in such service, that together bore
Up to the guests and tooke their Steeds, that swet
Beneath their yokes, from Coach, at mangers set,
Wheate and white barley gave them mixt, and plac't
Their Chariot by a wall so cleare it cast
A light quite thorough it. And then they led
Their guests to the divine house, which so fed
Their eyes at all parts with illustrous sights
That Admiration seisd them. Like the lights
The Sunne and Moone gave, all the Pallace threw
A luster through it. Satiate with whose view,
Downe to the King's most bright-kept Baths they went,
Where handmaids did their services present,
Bath'd, balmd them, shirts and well-napt weeds put on,
And by Atrides' side set each his throne.
Then did the handmaid royall water bring,
And to a Laver, rich and glittering,
Of massie gold, powr'd; which she plac't upon
A silver Caldron, into which might runne
The water as they washt. Then set she neare
A polisht table, on which all the cheare
The present could affoord, a reverend Dame
That kept the Larder set. A Cooke then came
And divers dishes, borne thence, serv'd againe,
Furnisht the boord with bolles of gold. And then
(His right hand given the guests) Atrides said:
" Eate, and be chearfull; appetite allaid,
I long to aske of what stocke ye descend —
For not from parents whose race namelesse end
We must derive your ofspring. Men obscure
Could get none such as you. The pourtraiture
Of Jove-sustaind and Scepter-bearing Kings
Your either person in his presence brings."
An Oxe's fat chine then they up did lift
And set before the guests — which was a gift
Sent as an honor to the King's owne tast.
They saw yet twas but to be eaten plac't,
And fell to it. But food and wine's care past,
Telemachus thus prompted Nestor's sonne
(His eare close laying, to be heard of none):
" Consider (thou whom most my mind esteemes)
The brasse-worke here, how rich it is in beames,
And how, besides, it makes the whole house sound.
What gold, and amber, silver, ivorie, round
Is wrought about it! Out of doubt, the Hall
Of Jupiter Olympius hath of all
This state the like. How many infinites
Take up to admiration all men's sights!"
Atrides over-heard, and said: " Lov'd sonne,
No mortall must affect contention
With Jove, whose dwellings are of endlesse date.
Perhaps (of men) some one may emulate
(Or none) my house, or me. For I am one
That many a grave extreme have undergone,
Much error felt by sea, and till th'eighth yeare
Had never stay, but wanderd farre and neare —
Cyprus, Phaenicia, and Sidonia,
And fetcht the farre-off Æthiopia,
Reacht the Erembi of Arabia
And Lybia, where with hornes Ewes yeane their Lambs,
Where every full yeare Ewes are three times dams,
Where neither King nor shepheard want comes neare
Of cheese, or flesh, or sweete milke. All the yeare
They ever milke their Ewes. And here, while I
Errd, gathering meanes to live, one murtherously,
Unwares, unseene, bereft my brother's life,
Chiefly betraid by his abhorred wife.
So hold I (not enjoying) what you see.
And of your Fathers (if they living be)
You must have heard this, since my suffrings were
So great and famous — from this Pallace here
(So rarely-well-built, furnished so well,
And substanced with such a precious deale
Of well-got treasure) banisht by the doome
Of Fate, and erring as I had no home.
And now I have and use it, not to take
Th'entire delight it offers, but to make
Continuall wishes that a triple part
Of all it holds were wanting, so my heart
Were easde of sorrowes (taken for their deaths
That fell at Troy) by their revived breaths.
And thus sit I here, weeping, mourning still
Each least man lost, and sometimes make mine ill
(In paying just teares for their losse) my joy.
Sometimes I breathe my woes; for in annoy,
The pleasure soone admits satietie.
But all these men's wants wet not so mine eie
(Though much they move me) as one sole man's misse —
For which my sleepe and meate even lothsome is
In his renewd thought, since no Greeke hath wonne
Grace for such labours as Laertes' sonne
Hath wrought and sufferd — to himselfe nought else
But future sorrowes forging, to me hels
For his long absence, since I cannot know
If life or death detaine him, since such woe
For his love, old Laertes, his wise wife,
And poore yong sonne sustaines, whom new with life
He left as sirelesse." This speech griefe to teares
(Powrd from the sonne's lids on the earth) his eares
(Told of the Father) did excite, who kept
His cheekes drie with his red weed as he wept,
His both hands usde therein. Atrides then
Began to know him, and did strife retaine,
If he should let himselfe confesse his Sire,
Or with all fitting circumstance enquire.
While this his thoughts disputed, forth did shine
(Like to the golden distaffe-deckt divine),
From her bed's high and odoriferous roome,
Helen. To whom (of an elaborate loome)
Adresta set a chaire; Alcippe brought
A peece of Tapestrie, of fine wooll wrought;
Phylo a silver Cabinet conferd
(Given by Alcandra, Nuptially endeard
To Lord Polybius, whose abode in Thebes,
Th'Ægyptian citie, was, where wealth in heapes
His famous house held, out of which did go
In gift t'Atrides silver bath-tubs two,
Two Tripods, and of fine gold talents ten).
His wife did likewise send to Helen then
Faire gifts, a Distaffe that of gold was wrought,
And that rich Cabinet that Phylo brought,
Round and with gold ribd, now of fine thred full,
On which extended (crownd with finest wooll
Of violet glosse) the golden Distaffe lay.
She tooke her State-chaire, and a foot-stoole's stay
Had for her feete: and of her husband thus
Askt to know all things: " Is it knowne to us,
King Menelaus, whom these men commend
Themselves for, that our Court now takes to friend?
I must affirme (be I deceiv'd or no)
I never yet saw man nor woman so
Like one another as this man is like
Ulysses' sonne. With admiration strike
His lookes my thoughts, that they should carrie now
Powre to perswade me thus, who did but know
When newly he was borne the forme they bore.
But tis his Father's grace, whom more and more
His grace resembles, that makes me retaine
Thought that he now is like Telemachus then,
Left by his Sire when Greece did undertake
Troy's bold warre for my impudencie's sake."
He answerd: " Now, wife, what you thinke, I know.
The true cast of his Father's eye doth show
In his eyes' order. Both his head and haire,
His hands and feete, his very father's are.
Of whom (so well rememberd) I should now
Acknowledge for me his continuall flow
Of cares and perils, yet still patient.
But I should too much move him, that doth vent
Such bitter teares for that which hath bene spoke,
Which (shunning soft shew) see how he would cloke,
And with his purple weed his weepings hide."
Then Nestor's sonne, Pisistratus, replide:
" Great Pastor of the people, kept of God!
He is Ulysses' sonne, but his abode
Not made before here, and he modest too,
He holds it an indignitie to do
A deed so vaine, to use the boast of words
Where your words are on wing — whose voice affords
Delight to us, as if a God did breake
The aire amongst us and vouchsafe to speake.
But me, my father, old Duke Nestor, sent
To be his consort hither, his content,
Not to be heightned so as with your sight,
In hope that therewith words and actions might
Informe his comforts from you, since he is
Extremely griev'd and injur'd by the misse
Of his great Father, suffering even at home,
And few friends found to helpe him overcome
His too weake sufferance, now his Sire is gone —
Amongst the people not affoorded one
To checke the miseries that mate him thus.
And this the state is of Telemachus."
" O Gods," said he, " how certaine, now, I see
My house enjoyes that friend's sonne, that for me
Hath undergone so many willing fights!
Whom I resolv'd, past all the Grecian Knights,
To hold in love, if our returne by seas
The farre-off Thunderer did ever please
To grant our wishes. And to his respect
A Pallace and a Citie to erect,
My vow had bound me — whither bringing then
His riches and his sonne and all his men
From barren Ithaca (some one sole Towne
Inhabited about here batterd downe)
All should in Argos live. And there would I
Ease him of rule, and take the Emperie
Of all on me. And often here would we
(Delighting, loving either's companie)
Meete and converse; whom nothing should divide
Till death's blacke veile did each all over hide.
But this perhaps had bene a meane to take
Even God himselfe with envie — who did make
Ulysses therefore onely the unblest,
That should not reach his loved countrie's rest."
These woes made every one with woe in love;
Even Argive Helen wept (the seed of Jove);
Ulysses' sonne wept; Atreus' sonne did weepe;
And Nestor's sonne his eyes in teares did steepe.
But his teares fell not from the present cloud
That from Ulysses was exhal'd, but flowd
From brave Antilochus' rememberd due,
Whom the renowmd Sonne of the Morning slue.
Which yet he thus excusde: " O Atreus" sonne!
Old Nestor sayes there lives not such a one
Amongst all mortals as Atrides is
For deathlesse wisedome. Tis a praise of his,
Still given in your remembrance, when at home
Our speech concernes you. Since then overcome
You please to be with sorrow, even to teares,
That are in wisedome so exempt from peres,
Vouchsafe the like effect in me excuse
(If it be lawfull). I affect no use
Of teares thus after meales — at least, at night;
But when the morne brings forth, with teares, her light,
It shall not then empaire me to bestow
My teares on any worthie's overthrow.
It is the onely right that wretched men
Can do dead friends, to cut haire and complaine.
But Death my brother tooke, whom none could call
The Grecian coward, you best knew of all.
I was not there, nor saw; but men report,
Antilochus exceld the common sort
For footmanship, or for the Chariot race,
Or in the fight for hardie hold of place."
" O friend," said he, " since thou hast spoken so
At all parts as one wise should say and do,
And like one farre beyond thy selfe in veares,
Thy words shall bounds be to our former teares.
O he is questionlesse a right-borne sonne,
That of his Father hath not onely wonne
The person but the wisedome; and that Sire
(Complete himselfe) that hath a sonne entire,
Jove did not onely his full Fate adorne
When he was wedded, but when he was borne.
As now Saturnius, through his life's whole date,
Hath Nestor's blisse raisd to as steepe a state —
Both in his age to keepe in peace his house,
And to have children wise and valorous.
But let us not forget our rere Feast thus.
Let some give water here. Telemachus!
The morning shall yeeld time to you and me
To do what fits, and reason mutually."
This said, the carefull servant of the King,
Asphalion, powr'd on th'issue of the Spring,
And all to readie feast set readie hand.
But Helen now on new device did stand,
Infusing strait a medicine to their wine,
That (drowning Cares and Angers) did decline
All thought of ill. Who drunke her cup could shed
All that day not a teare — no, not if dead
That day his father or his mother were,
Not if his brother, child or chiefest deare
He should see murtherd then before his face.
Such usefull medcines (onely borne in grace
Of what was good) would Helen ever have.
And this Juyce to her Polydamma gave,
The wife of Thoon, an Æygptian borne,
Whose rich earth herbes of medicine do adorne
In great abundance. Many healthfull are,
And many banefull. Every man is there
A good Physition out of nature's grace,
For all the nation sprung of Paeon's race.
When Helen then her medicine had infusde,
She bad powre wine to it, and this speech usde:
" Atrides, and these good men's sonnes, great Jove
Makes good and ill one after other move
In all things earthly: for he can do all.
The woes past, therefore, he so late let fall,
The comforts he affoords us let us take,
Feast, and with fit discourses merrie make.
Nor will I other use. As then our blood
Griev'd for Ulysses, since he was so good,
Since he was good, let us delight to heare
How good he was, and what his suffrings were —
Though every fight, and every suffring deed,
Patient Ulysses underwent exceed
My woman's powre to number or to name.
But what he did and sufferd, when he came
Amongst the Troyans (where ye Grecians all
Tooke part with sufferance) I in part can call
To your kind memories. How with ghastly wounds
Himselfe he mangl'd, and the Troyan bounds
(Thrust thicke with enemies) adventured on,
His royall shoulders having cast upon
Base abject weeds, and enterd like a slave.
Then (begger-like) he did of all men crave,
And such a wretch was as the whole Greeke fleete
Brought not besides. And thus through every streete
He crept discovering, of no one man knowne.
And yet through all this difference I alone
Smok't his true person, talkt with him — but he
Fled me with wiles still. Nor could we agree
Till I disclaimd him quite, and so (as mov'd
With womanly remorse of one that prov'd
So wretched an estate, what ere he were)
Wonne him to take my house. And yet even there,
Till freely I (to make him doubtlesse) swore
A powrefull oath to let him reach the shore
Of ships and tents before Troy understood,
I could not force on him his proper good.
But then I bath'd and sooth'd him, and he then
Confest and told me all. And (having slaine
A number of the Troyan guards) retirde
And reacht the Fleete, for slight and force admirde.
Their husbands' deaths by him the Troyan wives
Shriekt for, but I made triumphs for their lives.
For then my heart conceiv'd that once againe
I should reach home, and yet did still retaine
Woe for the slaughters Venus made for me,
When both my husband, my Hermione,
And bridall roome, she robd of so much right
And drew me from my countrie with her sleight —
Though nothing under heaven I here did need
That could my Fancie or my Beautie feed."
Her husband said: " Wife! what you please to tell
Is true at all parts, and becomes you well.
And I my selfe, that now may say have seene
The minds and manners of a world of men
And great Heroes, measuring many a ground,
Have never (by these eyes that light me) found
One with a bosome so to be belov'd
As that in which th'accomplisht spirit mov'd
Of patient Ulysses. What, brave man,
He both did act and suffer, when we wan
The towne of Ilion in the brave-built horse,
When all we chiefe States of the Grecian force
Were housde together, bringing Death and Fate
Amongst the Troyans, you, wife, may relate.
For you, at last, came to us; God, that would
The Troyans glorie give, gave charge you should
Approch the engine, and Deiphobus
(The god-like) followd. Thrice ye circl'd us,
With full survay of it, and often tried
The hollow crafts that in it were implied.
When all the voices of their wives in it
You tooke on you, with voice so like and fit,
And every man by name so visited
That I, Ulysses and King Diomed
(Set in the midst, and hearing how you calld)
Tydides and my selfe (as halfe appalld
With your remorceful plaints) would passing faine
Have broke our silence rather than againe
Endure, respectlesse, their so moving cries.
But Ithacus our strongest fantasies
Containd within us from the slendrest noise,
And every man there sat without a voice.
Anticlus onely would have answerd thee,
But his speech Ithacus incessantly
With strong hand held in, till (Minerva's call
Charging thee off) Ulysses sav'd us all."
Telemachus replide: " Much greater is
My griefe for hearing this high praise of his.
For all this doth not his sad death divert —
Nor can, though in him swelld an iron heart.
Prepare, and leade then (if you please) to rest:
Sleepe (that we heare not) will content us best."
Then Argive Helen made her handmaids go
And put faire bedding in the Portico,
Lay purple blankets on, Rugs warme and soft,
And cast an Arras coverlet aloft.
They torches tooke, made haste, and made the bed.
When both the guests were to their lodgings led
Within a Portico without the house.
Atrides and his large-traine-wearing Spouse
(The excellent of women) forth the way,
In a retir'd receit, together lay.
The morne arose; the King rose, and put on
His royall weeds, his sharpe sword hung upon
His ample shoulders, forth his chamber went,
And did the person of a God present.
Telemachus accosts him, who begun
Speech of his journey's proposition:
" And what, my yong Ulyssean Heroe,
Provokt thee on the broad backe of the sea
To visit Lacedaemon the Divine?
Speake truth — some publicke cause, or onely thine?"
" I come," said he, " to heare if any fame
Breath'd of my Father to thy notice came.
My house is sackt; my fat workes of the field
Are all destroid; my house doth nothing yeeld
But enemies that kill my harmlesse sheepe
And sinewie Oxen, nor will ever keepe
Their steeles without them. And these men are they
That wooe my Mother, most inhumanely
Committing injurie on injurie.
To thy knees therefore I am come, t'attend
Relation of the sad and wretched end
My erring Father felt, if witnest by
Your owne eyes, or the certaine newes that flie
From others' knowledges. For more than is
The usuall heape of humane miseries
His Mother bore him to. Vouchsafe me then
(Without all ruth of what I can sustaine)
The plaine and simple truth of all you know.
Let me beseech so much. If ever vow
Was made and put in good effect to you
At Troy (where suffrance bred you so much smart)
Upon my Father good Ulysses' part,
And quit it now to me (himselfe in youth)
Unfolding onely the unclosed truth."
He (deeply sighing) answerd him: " O shame,
That such poore vassals should affect the fame
To share the joyes of such a Worthie's Bed!
As when a Hinde (her calves late farrowed
To give sucke) enters the bold Lion's den,
He rootes of hils and herbie vallies then
For food (there feeding) hunting, but at length,
Returning to his Caverne, gives his strength
The lives of both the mother and her brood
In deaths indecent; so the wooers' blood
Must pay Ulysses' powres as sharpe an end.
O would to Jove, Apollo and thy friend
(The wise Minerva) that thy Father were
As once he was, when he his spirits did rere
Against Philomelides, in a fight
Performd in well-built Lesbos, where downe-right
He strooke the earth with him and gat a shout
Of all the Grecians! O, if now full out
He were as then and with the wooers cop't,
Short-liv'd they all were, and their nuptials hop't
Would prove as desperate. But for thy demand
Enforc't with prayrs, I'le let thee understand
The truth directly, nor decline a thought,
Much lesse deceive or sooth thy search in ought.
But what the old and still-true-spoken God,
That from the sea breathes oracles abroad,
Disclosde to me, to thee I'le all impart,
Nor hide one word from thy sollicitous heart.
" I was in Ægypt, where a mightie time
The Gods detaind me, though my naturall clime
I never so desir'd, because their homes
I did not greete with perfect Hecatomes.
For they will put men evermore in mind
How much their masterly commandments bind.
" There is (besides) a certaine Iland, calld
Pharos, that with the high-wav'd sea is walld,
Just against Ægypt, and so much remote
As in a whole day, with a fore-gale smote,
A hollow ship can saile. And this Ile beares
A Port most portly, where sea-passengers
Put in still for fresh water, and away
To sea againe. Yet here the Gods did stay
My Fleete full twentie dayes; the winds (that are
Masters at sea) no prosprous puffe would spare
To put us off; and all my victles here
Had quite corrupted, as my men's minds were,
Had not a certaine Goddesse given regard
And pittide me in an estate so hard —
And twas Idothea, honourd Proteus' seed,
That old sea-farer. Her mind I made bleed
With my compassion, when (walkt all alone
From all my souldiers, that were ever gone
About the Ile on fishing with hookes bent,
Hunger their bellies on her errand sent)
She came close to me, spake, and thus began:
" " Of all men, thou art the most foolish man,
Or slacke in businesse, or stayst here of choice
And doest in all thy suffrances rejoyce,
That thus long liv'st detaind here, and no end
Canst give thy tarriance. Thou doest much offend
The minds of all thy fellowes. " I replied:
" " Who ever thou art of the Deified,
I must affirme that no way with my will
I make abode here, but, it seemes, some ill
The Gods inhabiting broad heaven sustaine
Against my getting off. Informe me then,
(For Godheads all things know) what God is he
That stayes my passage from the fishie sea? "
" " Stranger, " said she, " I'le tell thee true: there lives
An old Sea-farer in these seas, that gives
A true solution of all secrets here —
Who deathlesse Proteus is, th'Ægyptian Peere,
Who can the deepes of all the seas exquire,
Who Neptune's Priest is, and (they say) the Sire
That did beget me. Him if any way
Thou couldst inveagle, he would cleare display
Thy course from hence, and how farre off doth lie
Thy voyage's whole scope through Neptune's skie —
Informing thee (O God-preserv'd) beside
(If thy desires would so be satisfide)
What ever good or ill hath got event
In all the time thy long and hard course spent,
Since thy departure from thy house. " This said,
Againe I answerd: " Make the sleights displaid
Thy Father useth, lest his foresight see,
Or his foreknowledge taking note of me,
He flies the fixt place of his usde abode.
Tis hard for man to countermine with God. "
" She strait replide: " I'le utter truth in all.
When heaven's supremest height the Sunne doth skall,
The old Sea-tell-truth leaves the deepes and hides
Amidst a blacke storme when the West wind chides,
In caves still sleeping. Round about him sleepe
(With short feete swimming forth the fomie deepe)
The Sea-calves (lovely Halosydnes calld)
From whom a noisome odour is exhalld,
Got from the whirle-pooles on whose earth they lie.
Here, when the morne illustrates all the skie,
I'le guide, and seate thee in the fittest place
For the performance thou hast now in chace.
In meane time reach thy Fleete, and chuse out three
Of best exploit to go as aides to thee.
" " But now I'le shew thee all the old God's sleights.
He first will number and take all the sights
Of those his guard, that on the shore arrives —
When, having viewd and told them forth by fives,
He takes place in their midst, and there doth sleepe
Like to a shepheard midst his flocke of sheepe.
In his first sleepe call up your hardiest cheare,
Vigor and violence, and hold him there,
In spite of all his strivings to be gone.
He then will turne himselfe to every one
Of all things that in earth creepe and respire,
In water swim, or shine in heavenly fire.
Yet still hold you him firme, and much the more
Presse him from passing. But when as before
(When sleepe first bound his powres) his forme ye see,
Then ceasse your force and th'old Heroe free,
And then demand which heaven-borne it may bee
That so afflicts you, hindring your retreate
And free sea-passage to your native seate. "
" This said, she div'd into the wavie seas,
And I my course did to my ships addresse,
That on the sands stucke; where arriv'd, we made
Our supper readie. Then th'Ambrosian shade
Of night fell on us, and to sleepe we fell.
Rosie Aurora rose; we rose as well;
And three of them, on whom I most relied
For firme at every force I chusde, and hied
Strait to the many-river-served seas,
And all assistance askt the Deities.
" Meane time Idothea the sea's broad brest
Embrac't, and brought for me, and all my rest,
Foure of the sea-calves' skins, but newly flead,
To worke a wile which she had fashioned
Upon her Father. Then (within the sand
A covert digging) when these Calves should land,
She sate expecting. We came close to her;
She plac't us orderly, and made us weare
Each one his Calve's skin. But we then must passe
A huge exploit. The sea-calves' savour was
So passing sowre (they still being bred at seas)
It much afflicted us — for who can please
To lie by one of these same sea-bred whales?
But she preserves us, and to memorie calls
A rare commoditie: she fetcht to us
Ambrosia, that an aire most odorous
Beares still about it — which she nointed round
Our either nosthrils, and in it quite drownd
The nastie whale-smell. Then the great event
The whole morne's date, with spirits patient,
We lay expecting. When bright Noone did flame
Forth from the sea, in Sholes the sea-calves came,
And orderly at last lay downe and slept
Along the sands. And then th'old sea-god crept
From forth the deepes, and found his fat calves there,
Survaid and numberd, and came never neare
The craft we usde, but told us five for calves.
His temples then diseasd with sleepe he salves;
And in rusht we with an abhorred crie,
Cast all our hands about him manfully —
And then th'old Forger all his formes began.
First was a Lion, with a mightie mane;
Then next a Dragon; a pide Panther then;
A vast Boare next; and sodainly did straine
All into water. last, he was a tree,
Curld all at top, and shot up to the skie.
" We, with resolv'd hearts, held him firmly still,
When th'old one (held too streight for all his skill
To extricate) gave words, and questiond me:
" " Which of the Gods, O Atreus' sonne, " said he,
" Advisde and taught thy fortitude this sleight,
To take and hold me thus in my despight?
What asks thy wish now? " I replide: " Thou knowst.
Why doest thou aske? What wiles are these thou showst?
I have within this Ile bene held for winde
A wondrous time, and can by no meanes find
An end to my retention. It hath spent
The very heart in me. Give thou then vent
To doubts thus bound in me — ye Gods know all —
Which of the Godheads doth so fowly fall
On my addression home, to stay me here,
Avert me from my way, the fishie cleare
Barr'd to my passage? " He replide: " Of force
(If to thy home thou wishest free recourse)
To Jove, and all the other Deities,
Thou must exhibite solemne sacrifice,
And then the blacke sea for thee shall be cleare,
Till thy lov'd countrie's settl'd reach. But where
Aske these rites thy performance? Tis a fate
To thee and thy affaires appropriate,
That thou shalt never see thy friends, nor tred
Thy Countrie's earth, nor see inhabited
Thy so magnificent house, till thou make good
Thy voyage backe to the Ægyptian flood,
Whose waters fell from Jove, and there hast given
To Jove, and all Gods housd in ample heaven,
Devoted Hecatombs; and then free wayes
Shall open to thee, cleard of all delayes. "
" This told he; and, me thought, he brake my heart,
In such a long and hard course to divert
My hope for home, and charge my backe retreat
As farre as Ægypt. I made answer yet:
" " Father, thy charge I'le perfect; but, before,
Resolve me truly, if their naturall shore,
All those Greeks and their ships do safe enjoy,
That Nestor and my selfe left, when from Troy
We first raisde saile? Or whether any died
At sea a death unwisht? Or (satisfied)
When warre was past, by friends embrac't, in peace
Resign'd their spirits? " He made answer: " Cease
To aske so farre; it fits thee not to be
So cunning in thine owne calamitie.
Nor seeke to learne what, learnd, thou shouldst forget.
Men's knowledges have proper limits set,
And should not prease into the mind of God.
But twill not long be (as my thoughts abode)
Before thou buy this curious skill with teares.
Many of those whose states so tempt thine eares
Are stoopt by Death, and many left alive:
One chiefe of which in strong hold doth survive
Amidst the broad sea. Two in their retreate
Are done to death. I list not to repeate
Who fell at Troy; thy selfe was there in fight.
But in returne swift Ajax lost the light
In his long-oard ship. Neptune yet a while
Saft him unwrackt to the Gyraean Ile,
A mightie Rocke removing from his way.
And surely he had scapt the fatall day
In spite of Pallas, if to that foule deed
He in her Phane did (when he ravished
The Troyan Prophetesse) he had not here
Adjoynd an impious boast — that he would beare
(Despite the Gods) his ship safe through the waves
Then raisde against him. These his impious braves
When Neptune heard, in his strong hand he tooke
His massie Trident and so soundly strooke
The rocke Gyraean that in two it cleft,
Of which, one fragment on the land he left,
The other fell into the troubld seas;
At which first rusht Ajax Oiliades
And split his ship, and then himselfe aflote
Swum on the rough waves of the world's vast mote,
Till having drunke a salt cup for his sinne,
There perisht he. Thy brother yet did winne
The wreath from Death while in the waves they strove,
Affected by the reverend wife of Jove.
But when the steepe Mount of the Malian shore
He seemd to reach, a most tempestuous blore
Farre to the fishie world, that sighes so sore,
Strait ravisht him againe — as farre away
As to th'extreme bounds where the Agrians stay,
Where first Thyestes dwelt, but then his sonne
Ægisthus Thyestiades liv'd. This done,
When his returne untoucht appeard againe,
Backe turnd the Gods the wind, and set him then
Hard by his house. Then, full of joy, he left
His ship, and close t'his countrie earth he cleft,
Kist it, and wept for joy, powrd teare on teare
To set so wishedly his footing there.
But see: a Sentinell that all the yeare
Craftie Ægisthus in a watchtowre set
To spie his landing, for reward as great
As two gold talents, all his powres did call
To strict remembrance of his charge, and all
Discharg'd at first sight which at first he cast
On Agamemnon, and with all his hast
Informd Ægisthus. He an instant traine
Laid for his slaughter. Twentie chosen men
Of his Plebeians he in ambush laid.
His other men he charg'd to see purvaid
A Feast, and forth, with horse and chariots grac't,
He rode t'invite him, but in heart embrac't
Horrible welcomes, and to death did bring,
With trecherous slaughter, the unwary King —
Receiv'd him at a Feast, and (like an Oxe
Slaine at his manger) gave him bits and knocks.
No one left of Atrides' traine; nor one
Sav'd to Ægisthus but himselfe alone:
All strowd together there the bloudie Court. "
This said, my soule he sunke with his report;
Flat on the sands I fell, teares spent their store;
I light abhord; my heart would live no more.
" When drie of teares, and tir'd with tumbling there,
Th'old Tel-truth thus my danted spirits did cheare:
" " No more spend teares nor time, O Atreus' sonne;
With ceaslesse weeping never wish was wonne.
Use uttermost assay to reach thy home,
And all unwares upon the murtherer come,
(For torture) taking him thy selfe alive;
Or let Orestes, that should farre out-strive
Thee in fit vengeance, quickly quit the light
Of such a darke soule, and do thou the right
Of buriall to him with a Funerall feast. "
" With these last words I fortifide my breast,
In which againe a generous spring began
Of fitting comfort, as I was a man;
But, as a brother, I must ever mourne.
Yet forth I went, and told him the returne
Of these I knew, but he had nam'd a third,
Held on the broad sea, still with life inspir'd —
Whom I besought to know, though likewise dead,
And I must mourne alike. He answered:
" " He is Laertes' sonne, whom I beheld
In Nymph Calypso's Pallace, who compeld
His stay with her: and since he could not see
His countrie earth, he mournd incessantly.
For he had neither ship instruct with oares,
Nor men to fetch him from those stranger shores.
Where leave we him and to thy selfe descend,
Whom not in Argos Fate nor Death shall end;
But the immortall ends of all the earth,
So rul'd by them that order death by birth
(The fields Elysian) Fate to thee will give —
Where Rhadamanthus rules, and where men live
A never-troubld life, where snow, nor showres,
Nor irksome Winter spends his fruitlesse powres,
But from the Ocean Zephyr still resumes
A constant breath, that all the fields perfumes —
Which, since thou marriedst Helen, are thy hire,
And Jove himselfe is by her side thy Sire. "
" This said, he div'd the deepsome watrie heapes.
I and my tried men tooke up to our ships,
And worlds of thoughts I varied with my steps.
" Arriv'd and shipt, the silent solemne Night
And Sleepe bereft us of our visuall light.
At morne, masts, sailes reard, we sate, left the shores,
And beate the fomie Ocean with our oares.
" Againe then we the Jove-falne flood did fetch
As farre as Ægypt, where we did beseech
The Gods with Hecatombs — whose angers ceast,
I toomb'd my brother, that I might be blest.
" All rites performd, all haste I made for home,
And all the prosprous winds about were come;
I had the Pasport now of every God,
And here closde all these labours' period.
" Here stay then till th'eleventh or twelfth daie's light,
And I'le dismisse thee well, gifts exquisite
Preparing for thee — Chariot, horses three,
A Cup of curious frame to serve for thee
To serve th'immortall Gods with sacrifice,
Mindfull of me while all Sunnes light thy skies."
He answerd: " Stay me not too long time here,
Though I could sit attending all the yeare:
Nor should my house, nor parents, with desire
Take my affections from you, so on fire
With love to heare you are my thoughts: but so
My Pylian friends I shall afflict with wo,
Who mourne even this stay. Whatsoever be
The gifts your Grace is to bestow on me,
Vouchsafe them such as I may beare and save
For your sake ever. Horse, I list not have
To keepe in Ithaca, but leave them here
To your soile's dainties, where the broad fields beare
Sweet Cypers grasse, where men-fed Lote doth flow,
Where wheate-like Spelt and wheate it selfe doth grow,
Where Barley, white and spreading like a tree —
But Ithaca hath neither ground to be
(For any length it comprehends) a race
To trie a horse's speed, nor any place
To make him fat in — fitter farre to feed
A Cliffe-bred Goate than raise or please a Steed.
Of all Iles Ithaca doth least provide
Or meades to feed a horse, or wayes to ride."
He, smiling, said: " Of good bloud art thou, sonne.
What speech, so yong! What observation
Hast thou made of the world! I well am pleasde
To change my gifts to thee, as being confessd
Unfit indeed: my store is such, I may.
Of all my house-gifts, then, that up I lay
For treasure there, I will bestow on thee
The fairest and of greatest price to me.
I will bestow on thee a rich carv'd Cup
Of silver all, but all the brims wrought up
With finest gold: it was the onely thing
That the Heroicall Sydonian King
Presented to me, when we were to part
At his receit of me, and twas the Art
Of that great Artist that of heaven is free;
And yet even this will I bestow on thee."
This speech thus ended, guests came and did bring
Muttons (for Presents) to the God-like King,
And spirit-prompting wine, that strenuous makes.
Their Riband-wreathed wives brought fruit and cakes.
Thus in this house did these their Feast apply.
And in Ulysses' house, Activitie
The wooers practisde — Tossing of the Speare,
The Stone, and hurling: thus delighted, where
They exercisde such insolence before,
Even in the Court that wealthy pavements wore.
Antinous did still their strifes decide,
And he that was in person deifide
Eurymachus, both ring-leaders of all,
For in their vertues they were principall.
These by Noemon (sonne to Phronius)
Were sided now, who made the question thus:
" Antinous! does any friend here know
When this Telemachus returnes, or no,
From sandie Pylos? He made bold to take
My ship with him; of which I now should make
Fit use my selfe, and saile in her as farre
As spacious Elis, where of mine there are
Twelve delicate Mares, and under their sides go
Laborious Mules that yet did never know
The yoke, nor labour; some of which should beare
The taming now, if I could fetch them there."
This speech the rest admir'd, nor dreamd that he
Neleian Pylos ever thought to see,
But was at field about his flocks' survay,
Or thought his heardsmen held him so away.
Eupitheus' sonne, Antinous, then replied:
" When went he, or with what Traine dignified
Of his selected Ithacensian youth?
Prest men, or Bond men were they? Tell the truth.
Could he effect this? Let me truly know.
To gaine thy vessell did he violence show,
And usde her gainst thy will, or had her free,
When fitting question he had made with thee?"
Noemon answerd: " I did freely give
My vessell to him. Who deserves to live
That would do other, when such men as he
Did in distresse aske? He should churlish be
That would denie him. Of our youth the best
Amongst the people, to the interest
His charge did challenge in them, giving way,
With all the tribute all their powres could pay.
Their Captaine (as he tooke the ship) I knew,
Who Mentor was, or God. A deitie's shew
Maskt in his likenesse. But to thinke twas he,
I much admire, for I did clearly see,
But yester morning, God-like Mentor here;
Yet, th'other evening, he tooke shipping there,
And went for Pylos." Thus went he for home,
And left the rest with envie overcome,
Who sate, and pastime left. Eupitheus' sonne
(Sad, and with rage his entrailes overrunne)
His eyes like flames, thus interposde his speech:
" Strange thing, an action of how proud a reach
Is here committed by Telemachus!
A boy, a child — and we a sort of us,
Vowd gainst his voyage, yet admit it thus,
With ship and choise youth of our people too!
But let him on, and all his mischiefe do;
Jove shall convert upon himselfe his powres.
Before their ill presum'd he brings on ours.
Provide me then a ship, and twentie men
To give her manage, that against again
He turnes for home, on th'Ithacensian seas
Or Cliffie Samian, I may interprease,
Way-lay, and take him, and make all his craft
Saile with his ruine for his Father saf't."
This all applauded, and gave charge to do,
Rose, and to greete Ulysses' house did go.
But long time past not ere Penelope
Had notice of their far-fetcht trecherie.
Medon the Herald told her, who had heard
Without the Hall how they within conferd,
And hasted strait to tell it to the Queene,
Who, from the entrie having Medon seene,
Prevents him thus: " Now, Herald, what affaire
Intend the famous woo'rs in your repaire?
To tell Ulysses' maids that they must ceasse
From doing our worke, and their banquets dresse?
I would to heaven that (leaving wooing me,
Nor ever troubling other companie)
Here might the last Feast be, and most extreme,
That ever any shall addresse for them.
They never meete but to consent in spoile
And reape the free fruites of another's toile.
O did they never, when they children were,
What to their Fathers was Ulysses, heare —
Who never did gainst any one proceed
With unjust usage, or in word or deed?
Tis yet with other Kings another right,
One to pursue with love, another spight;
He still yet just, nor would, though might, devoure,
Nor to the worst did ever taste of powre.
But their unruld acts shew their minds' estate:
Good turnes receiv'd once, thanks grow out of date."
Medon, the learn'd in wisedome, answerd her:
" I wish, O Queene, that their ingratitudes were
Their worst ill towards you: but worse by farre,
And much more deadly, their endevours are,
Which Jove will faile them in. Telemachus
Their purpose is (as he returnes to us)
To give their sharpe steeles in a cruell death —
Who now is gone to learne if Fame can breathe
Newes of his Sire, and will the Pylian shore
And sacred Sparta in his search explore."
This newes dissolv'd to her both knees and heart;
Long silence held her ere one word would part;
Her eyes stood full of teares; her small soft voice
All late use lost, that yet at last had choice
Of wonted words, which briefly thus she usde:
" Why left my sonne his mother? Why refusde
His wit the solid shore, to trie the seas
And put in ships the trust of his distresse,
That are at sea to men unbridld horse,
And runne, past rule, their farre-engaged course
Amidst a moisture past all meane unstaid?
No need compeld this: did he it, afraid
To live and leave posteritie his name?"
" I know not," he replide, " if th'humor came
From current of his owne instinct, or flowd
From others' instigations; but he vowd
Attempt to Pylos, or to see descried
His Sire's returne, or know what death he died."
This said, he tooke him to Ulysses' house
After the wooers; the Ulyssean Spouse
(Runne through with woes) let Torture seise her mind,
Nor in her choice of state-chaires stood enclin'd
To take her seate, but th'abject threshold chose
Of her faire chamber for her loth'd repose,
And mournd most wretch-like. Round about her fell
Her handmaids, joynd in a continuate yell.
From every corner of the Pallace, all
Of all degrees tun'd to her comfort's fall
Their owne dejections — to whom her complaint
She thus enforc't: " The Gods beyond constraint
Of any measure urge these teares on me,
Nor was there ever Dame of my degree
So past degree griev'd. First, a Lord so good,
That had such hardie spirits in his blood
That all the vertues was adornd withall,
That all the Greeks did their Superiour call,
To part with thus, and lose! And now a sonne,
So worthily belov'd, a course to runne
Beyond my knowledge, whom rude tempests have
Made farre from home his most inglorious grave!
Unhappie wenches, that no one of all
(Though in the reach of every one must fall
His taking ship) sustaind the carefull mind
To call me from my bed, who this designd
And most vowd course in him had either staid
(How much soever hasted) or dead laid
He should have left me. Many a man I have
That would have calld old Dolius my slave
(That keepes my Orchard, whom my Father gave
At my departure) to have runne and told
Laertes this, to trie if he could hold
From running through the people, and from teares,
In telling them of these vowd murtherers —
That both divine Ulysses' hope, and his,
Resolve to end in their conspiracies."
His Nurse then, Euryclea, made reply:
" Deare Soveraigne, let me with your owne hands die,
Or cast me off here; I'le not keepe from thee
One word of what I know. He trusted me
With all his purpose, and I gave him all
The bread and wine for which he pleasd to call.
But then a mightie oath he made me sweare,
Not to report it to your royall eare
Before the twelfth day either should appeare,
Or you should aske me when you heard him gone.
Empaire not then your beauties with your mone,
But wash and put unteare-staind garments on:
Ascend your chamber with your Ladies here,
And pray the seed of Goat-nurst Jupiter
(Divine Athenia) to preserve your sonne,
And she will save him from confusion.
Th'old King, to whom your hopes stand so inclin'd
For his grave counsels, you perhaps may find
Unfit affected, for his age's sake.
But heaven-kings waxe not old, and therefore make
Fit pray'rs to them; for my thoughts never will
Beleeve the heavenly powres conceit so ill
The seed of righteous Arcesiades
To end it utterly, but still will please
In some place evermore some one of them
To save, and decke him with a Diadem,
Give him possession of erected Towres
And farre-stretcht fields, crownd all of fruits and flowres."
This easd her heart and dride her humorous eies,
When having washt, and weeds of sacrifise
(Pure, and unstaind with her distrustfull teares)
Put on, (with all her women-ministers)
Up to a chamber of most height she rose,
And cakes of salt and barly did impose
Within a wicker basket — all which broke
In decent order, thus she did invoke:
" Great Virgin of the Goat-preserved God,
If ever the inhabited abode
Of wise Ulysses held the fatted Thies
Of sheepe and Oxen, made thy sacrifice
By his devotion, heare me, nor forget
His pious services, but safe see set
His deare sonne on these shores, and banish hence
These wooers, past all meane in insolence."
This said, she shriekt, and Pallas heard her praire.
The wooers broke with tumult all the aire
About the shadie house; and one of them,
Whose pride his youth had made the more extreme,
Said: " Now the many-wooer-honourd Queene
Will surely satiate her delayfull spleene,
And one of us in instant nuptials take.
Poore Dame, she dreames not what designe we make
Upon the life and slaughter of her sonne."
So said he; but so said was not so done; —
Whose arrogant spirit in a vaunt so vaine
Antinous chid, and said: " For shame, containe
These braving speeches! Who can tell who heares?
Are we not now in reach of others' eares?
If our intentions please us, let us call
Our spirits up to them, and let speeches fall.
By watchfull Danger men must silent go:
What we resolve on, let's not say, but do."
This said, he chusde out twentie men that bore
Best reckning with him, and to ship and shore
All hasted, reacht the ship, lancht, raisd the mast,
Put sailes in, and with leather loopes made fast
The oares, Sailes hoisted; Armes their men did bring,
All giving speed and forme to every thing.
Then to the high-deepes their riggd vessell driven,
They supt, expecting the approching Even.
Meane space, Penelope her chamber kept
And bed, and neither eate, nor dranke, nor slept —
Her strong thoughts wrought so on her blamelesse sonne,
Still in contention, if he should be done
To death, or scape the impious wooers' designe.
Looke how a Lion, whom men-troopes combine
To hunt and close him in a craftie ring,
Much varied thought conceives, and feare doth sting
For urgent danger: so far'd she till sleepe
All juncture of her joynts and nerves did steepe
In his dissolving humor. When (at rest)
Pallas her favours varied, and addrest
An Idoll, that Iphthima did present
In structure of her every lineament,
Great-sould Icarius' daughter, whom for Spouse
Eumelus tooke, that kept in Pheris house.
This to divine Ulysses' house she sent,
To trie her best meane how she might content
Mournfull Penelope, and make Relent
The strict addiction in her to deplore.
This Idoll (like a worme, that lesse or more
Contracts or straines her) did it selfe convey
Beyond the wards or windings of the key
Into the chamber, and, above her head
Her seate assuming, thus she comforted
Distrest Penelope: " Doth sleepe thus sease
Thy powres, affected with so much disease?
The Gods, that nothing troubles, will not see
Thy teares nor griefes in any least degree
Sustaind with cause, for they will guard thy sonne
Safe to his wisht and native mansion,
Since he is no offender of their States,
And they to such are firmer than their Fates."
The wise Penelope receiv'd her thus
(Bound with a slumber most delicious,
And in the Port of dreames): " O sister, why
Repaire you hither, since so farre off lie
Your house and houshold? You were never here
Before this houre, and would you now give cheare
To my so many woes and miseries,
Affecting fitly all the faculties
My soule and mind hold, having lost before
A husband, that of all the vertues bore
The Palme amongst the Greeks, and whose renowne
So ample was that Fame the sound hath blowne
Through Greece and Argos to her very heart?
And now againe, a sonne, that did convert
My whole powres to his love, by ship is gone —
A tender Plant, that yet was never growne
To labour's taste nor the commerce of men —
For whom more than my husband I complaine,
And lest he should at any sufferance touch
(Or in the sea, or by the men so much
Estrang'd to him, that must his consorts be)
Feare and chill tremblings shake each joynt of me.
Besides, his danger sets on foes profest
To way-lay his returne, that have addrest
Plots for his death." The scarce-discerned Dreame
Said: " Be of comfort, nor feares so extreme
Let thus dismay thee; thou hast such a mate
Attending thee as some at any rate
Would wish to purchase, for her powre is great:
Minerva pities thy delight's defeate,
Whose Grace hath sent me to foretell thee theese."
" If thou," said she, " be of the Goddesses,
And heardst her tell thee these, thou mayst as well
From her tell all things else. Daigne then to tell
If yet the man to all misfortunes borne
(My husband) lives, and sees the Sunne adorne
The darksome earth, or hides his wretched head
In Pluto's house and lives amongst the dead?"
" I will not," she replide, " my breath exhale
In one continude and perpetuall tale,
Lives he or dies he. Tis a filthy use
To be in vaine and idle speech profuse."
This said, she through the key-hole of the dore
Vanisht againe into the open blore.
Icarius' daughter started from her sleepe,
And Joye's fresh humor her lov'd brest did steepe,
When now so cleare, in that first watch of night,
She saw the seene dreame vanish from her sight.
The wooers (shipt) the sea's moist wayes did plie,
And thought the Prince a haughtie death should die.
There lies a certaine Iland in the sea,
Twixt rockie Samos and rough Ithaca,
That cliffie is it selfe, and nothing great,
Yet holds convenient havens that two wayes let
Ships in and out, calld Asteris: and there
The wooers hop't to make their massakere.