Classic Poem

Thus praid the wise and God-observing Man.
The Maid, by free force of her Palfreys, wan
Accesse to Towne, and the renowmed Court
Reacht of her Father, where, within the Port,
She staid her Coach; and round about her came
Her Brothers (made as of immortall frame),
Who yet disdaind not, for her love, meane deeds,
But tooke from Coach her Mules, brought in her weeds.
And she ascends her chamber, where purvaid
A quicke fire was by her old chamber-maid,
Eurymedusa, th'Aperaean borne,
And brought by sea from Apera t'adorne
The Court of great Alcinous, because
He gave to all the blest Phaeacians lawes,
And, like a heaven-borne Powre in speech, acquir'd
The people's eares. To one then so admir'd,
Eurymedusa was esteemd no worse
Than worth the gift; yet now, growne old, was Nurse
To Ivory-armd Nausicaa, gave heate
To all her fires, and drest her privie meate.
Then rose Ulysses, and made way to Towne;
Which ere he reacht, a mightie mist was throwne
By Pallas round about him, in her Care
Lest in the sway of envies popular
Some proud Phaeacian might foule language passe,
Justle him up, and aske him what he was.
Entring the lovely Towne yet, through the cloud
Pallas appeard, and like a yong wench showd
Bearing a pitcher, stood before him so
As if objected purposely to know
What there he needed — whom he questiond thus:
" Know you not, daughter, where Alcinous,
That rules this Towne, dwels? I, a poore distrest
Meere stranger here, know none I may request
To make this Court knowne to me." She replied:
" Strange Father, I will see you satisfied
In that request: my Father dwels just by
The house you seeke for: but go silently,
Nor aske, nor speake to any other; I
Shall be enough to shew your way. The men
That here inhabite do not entertain
With ready kindnesse strangers, of what worth
Or state soever, nor have taken forth
Lessons of civill usage or respect
To men beyond them. They (upon their powres
Of swift ships building) top the watry towres,
And Jove hath given them ships, for saile so wrought
They cut a fether and command a thought."
This said, she usherd him, and after he
Trod in the swift steps of the Deitie.
The free-saild sea-men could not get a sight
Of our Ulysses yet, though he foreright
Both by their houses and their persons past:
Pallas about him such a darknesse cast
By her divine powre and her reverend care,
She would not give the Towne-borne cause to stare.
He wonderd, as he past, to see the Ports,
The shipping in them, and for all resorts
The goodly market steds, and Iles beside
For the Heroes, walls so large and wide,
Rampires so high and of such strength withall
It would with wonder any eye appall.
At last they reacht the Court, and Pallas said:
" Now, honourd stranger, I will see obaid
Your will to shew our Ruler's house; tis here;
Where you shall find Kings celebrating cheare;
Enter amongst them, nor admit a feare.
More bold a man is, he prevailes the more,
Though man nor place he ever saw before.
You first shall find the Queene in Court, whose name
Is Arete, of parents borne the same
That was the King her Spouse: their Pedigree
I can report. The great Earth-shaker, he
Of Peribaea (that her sex out-shone,
And yongest daughter was t'Eurymedon,
Who of th'unmeasur'd-minded Giants swaid
Th'Imperiall Scepter, and the pride allaid
Of men so impious with cold death, and died
Himselfe soone after) got the magnified
In mind, Nausithous, who the kingdome's state
First held in supreame rule. Nausithous gat
Rhexenor and Alcinous, now King.
Rhexenor (whose seed did no male fruite spring,
And whom the silver-bow-grac't Phaebus slue
Yong in the Court) his shed blood did renew
In onely Arete, who now is Spouse
To him that rules the kingdome in this house,
And is her Unkle, King Alcinous,
Who honors her past equall. She may boast
More honor of him than the honord most
Of any wife in earth can of her Lord,
How many more soever Realmes affoord
That keepe house under husbands. Yet no more
Her husband honors her than her blest store
Of gracious children. All the Citie cast
Eyes on her as a Goddesse, and give taste
Of their affections to her in their praires,
Still as she decks the streets. For all affaires
Wrapt in contention she dissolves to men:
Whom she affects, she wants no mind to deigne
Goodnesse enough. If her heart stand inclin'd
To your dispatch, hope all you wish to find,
Your friends, your longing family, and all
That can within your most affections fall."
This said, away the grey-eyd Goddesse flew
Along th'untamed sea, left the lovely hew
Scheria presented, out flew Marathon,
And ample-streeted Athens lighted on,
Where to the house that casts so thicke a shade,
Of Erechtheus, she ingression made.
Ulysses to the loftie-builded Court
Of King Alcinous made bold resort;
Yet in his heart cast many a thought before
The brazen pavement of the rich Court bore
His enterd person. Like heaven's two maine Lights,
The roomes illustrated both daies and nights.
On every side stood firme a wall of brasse,
Even from the threshold to the inmost passe,
Which bore a roofe up that all Saphire was;
The brazen thresholds both sides did enfold
Silver Pilasters hung with gates of gold,
Whose Portall was of silver; over which
A golden Cornish did the front enrich.
On each side, Dogs, of gold and silver fram'd,
The house's Guard stood, which the Deitie (lam'd)
With knowing inwards had inspir'd, and made,
That Death nor Age should their estates invade.
Along the wall stood every way a throne
From th'entry to the Lobbie, every one
Cast over with a rich-wrought cloth of state —
Beneath which the Phaeacian Princes sate
At wine and food, and feasted all the yeare.
Youths forg'd of gold, at every table there,
Stood holding flaming torches, that, in night,
Gave through the house each honourd Guest his light.
And (to encounter feast with houswifry)
In one roome fiftie women did apply
Their severall tasks. Some apple-colourd corne
Ground in faire Quernes, and some did spindles turne,
Some worke in loomes; no hand least rest receives,
But all had motion apt, as Aspen leaves.
And from the weeds they wove, so fast they laid,
And so thicke thrust together, thred by thred,
That th'oile (of which the wooll had drunke his fill)
Did with his moisture in light dewes distill.
As much as the Phaeacian men exceld
All other countrimen in Art to build
A swift-saild ship, so much the women there
For worke of webs past other women were.
Past meane, by Pallas' meanes, they understood
The grace of good works, and had wits as good.
Without the Hall, and close upon the Gate,
A goodly Orchard ground was situate
Of neare ten Acres, about which was led
A loftie Quickset. In it flourished
High and broad fruit trees that Pomegranats bore;
Sweet Figs, Peares, Olives, and a number more
Most usefull Plants did there produce their store,
Whose fruits the hardest Winter could not kill,
Nor hotest Summer wither. There was still
Fruite in his proper season all the yeare.
Sweet Zephyr breath'd upon them blasts that were
Of varied tempers: these he made to beare
Ripe fruites, these blossomes; Peare grew after Peare,
Apple succeeded apple, Grape the Grape,
Fig after Fig came; Time made never rape
Of any daintie there. A spritely vine
Spred here his roote, whose fruite a hote sun-shine
Made ripe betimes. Here grew another, greene.
Here some were gathering, here some pressing seene.
A large-allotted severall each fruite had;
And all th'adornd grounds their apparance made
In flowre and fruite, at which the King did aime
To the precisest order he could claime.
Two Fountaines grac't the garden; of which, one
Powrd out a winding streame that over-runne
The grounds for their use chiefly, th'other went
Close by the loftie Pallace gate, and lent
The Citie his sweet benefit. And thus
The Gods the Court deckt of Alcinous.
Patient Ulysses stood a while at gaze,
But (having all observ'd) made instant pace
Into the Court, where all the Peeres he found
And Captaines of Phaeacia, with Cups crownd,
Offring to sharp-eyd Hermes, to whom last
They usde to sacrifise, when Sleepe had cast
His inclination through their thoughts. But these
Ulysses past, and forth went; nor their eies
Tooke note of him, for Pallas stopt the light
With mists about him, that, unstaid, he might
First to Alcinous and Arete
Present his person; and of both them, she
(By Pallas' counsell) was to have the grace
Of foremost greeting. Therefore his embrace
He cast about her knee. And then off flew
The heavenly aire that hid him — when his view
With silence and with Admiration strooke
The Court quite through: but thus he silence broake:
" Divine Rhexenor's ofspring, Arete,
To thy most honourd husband, and to thee,
A man whom many labours have distrest
Is come for comfort; and to every guest —
To all whom heaven vouchsafe delightsome lives,
And, after, to your issue that survives
A good resignement of the Goods ye leave,
With all the honor that your selves receive
Amongst your people. Onely this of me
Is the Ambition, that I may but see
(By your vouchsaft meanes, and betimes vouchsaft)
My country earth, since I have long bin left
To labors and to errors, barrd from end,
And farre from benefit of any friend."
He said no more, but left them dumbe with that,
Went to the harth and in the ashes sat
Aside the fire. At last their silence brake,
And Echeneus, th'old Heroe, spake —
A man that all Phaeacians past in yeares,
And in perswasive eloquence all the Peeres,
Knew much, and usde it well. And thus spake he:
" Alcinous! It shewes not decently,
Nor doth your honor what you see admit,
That this your guest should thus abjectly sit,
His chaire the earth, the harth his cushion,
Ashes as if apposde for food. A Throne
Adornd with due rites stands you more in hand
To see his person plac't in, and command
That instantly your Heralds fill in wine,
That to the God that doth in lightnings shine
We may do sacrifice: for he is there
Where these his reverend suppliants appeare.
Let what you have within be brought abroad
To sup the stranger. All these would have showd
This fit respect to him, but that they stay
For your precedence, that should grace the way."
When this had added to the well-inclin'd
And sacred order of Alcinous' mind,
Then of the great in wit the hand he seisd,
And from the ashes his faire person raisd,
Advanc't him to a well-adorned Throne,
And from his seate raisd his most loved sonne
(Laodamas, that next himselfe was set)
To give him place. The handmaid then did get
An Ewre of gold, with water fild, which plac't
Upon a Caldron all with silver grac't,
She powrd out on their hands. And then was spred
A Table, which the Butler set with bread,
As others serv'd with other food the boord
In all the choise the present could affoord.
Ulysses meate and wine tooke, and then thus
The King the Herald calld: " Pontonous!
Serve wine through all the house, that all may pay
Rites to the Lightner, who is still in way
With humble suppliants, and them pursues
With all benigne and hospitable dues."
Pontonous gave act to all he willd,
And hony-sweetnesse-giving-minds wine filld,
Disposing it in cups for all to drinke.
All having drunke what either's heart could thinke
Fit for due sacrifice, Alcinous said:
" Heare me, ye Dukes that the Phaeacians leade,
And you our Counsellors, that I may now
Discharge the charge my mind suggests to you
For this our guest. Feast past, and this night's sleepe,
Next morne (our Senate summond) we will keepe
Justs sacred to the Gods, and this our Guest
Receive in solemne Court with fitting Feast:
Then thinke of his returne, that, under hand
Of our deduction, his naturall land
(Without more toile or care, and with delight,
And that soone given him, how farre hence dissite
Soever it can be) he may ascend —
And in the meane time without wrong attend,
Or other want, fit meanes to that ascent.
What, after, austere Fates shall make th'event
Of his life's thred (now spinning, and began
When his paind mother freed his roote of man)
He must endure in all kinds. If some God
Perhaps abides with us in his abode,
And other things, will thinke upon then we.
The Gods' wils stand, who ever yet were free
Of their appearance to us when to them
We offerd Hecatombs of fit esteem,
And would at feast sit with us, even where we
Orderd our Session. They would likewise be
Encountrers of us, when in way alone
About his fit affaires went any one —
Nor let them cloke themselves in any care
To do us comfort; we as neare them are
As are the Cyclops, or the impious race
Of earthy Giants that would heaven outface."
Ulysses answerd: " Let some other doubt
Employ your thoughts than what your words give out —
Which intimate a kind of doubt that I
Should shadow in this shape a Deitie.
I beare no such least semblance, or in wit,
Vertue, or person. What may well befit
One of those mortals, whom you chiefly know
Beares up and downe the burthen of the woe
Appropriate to poore man, give that to me —
Of whose mones I sit in the most degree;
And might say more, sustaining griefes that all
The Gods consent to, no one twixt their fall
And my unpitied shoulders letting downe
The least diversion. Be the grace then showne
To let me taste your free-given food in peace:
Through greatest griefe the belly must have ease.
Worse than an envious belly nothing is.
It will command his strict Necessities,
Of men most griev'd in body or in mind,
That are in health, and will not give their kind
A desperate wound. When most with cause I grieve,
It bids me still, " Eate, man, and drinke, and live " ;
And this makes all forgot. What ever ill
I ever beare, it ever bids me fill.
But this ease is but forc't and will not last,
Till what the mind likes be as well embrac't.
And therefore let me wish you would partake
In your late purpose: when the Morne shall make
Her next appearance, daigne me but the grace
(Unhappie man) that I may once embrace
My country earth: though I be still thrust at
By ancient ils, yet make me but see that,
And then let life go — when (withall) I see
My high-rooft large house, lands and family."
This all approv'd, and each willd every one:
" Since he hath said so fairly, set him gone."
Feast past, and sacrifice, to sleepe all vow
Their eies at either's house. Ulysses now
Was left here with Alcinous and his Queene,
The all-lov'd Arete. The handmaids then
The vessell of the Banquet tooke away —
When Arete set eye on his array,
Knew both his out and underweed, which she
Made with her maids, and musde by what meanes he
Obtaind their wearing: which she made request
To know, and wings gave to these speeches: " Guest!
First let me aske, what and from whence you are?
And then, who grac't you with the weeds you weare?
Said you not lately you had err'd at seas,
And thence arriv'd here?" Laertiades
To this thus answerd: " Tis a paine, O Queene,
Still to be opening wounds wrought deepe and greene,
Of which the Gods have opened store in me;
Yet your will must be serv'd. Farre hence, at sea,
There lies an Ile that beares Ogygia's name,
Where Atlas' daughter, the ingenious Dame,
Faire-haird Calypso lives — a Goddesse grave,
And with whom men nor Gods societie have.
Yet I (past man unhappie) liv'd alone
(By heav'n's wrath forc't) her house companion.
For Jove had with a fervent lightning cleft
My ship in twaine, and farre at blacke sea left
Me and my souldiers — all whose lives I lost.
I in mine armes the keele tooke and was tost
Nine dayes together up from wave to wave.
The tenth grim Night the angry Deities drave
Me and my wracke on th'Ile in which doth dwell
Dreadfull Calypso, who exactly well
Receiv'd and nourisht me, and promise made
To make me deathlesse, nor should Age invade
My powres with his deserts through all my dayes.
All mov'd not me; and therefore on her stayes
Seven yeares she made me lie: and there spent I
The long time steeping in the miserie
Of ceaslesse teares the Garments I did weare
From her faire hand. The eighth revolved yeare
(Or by her chang'd mind, or by charge of Jove)
She gave provokt way to my wisht remove,
And in a many-joynted ship, with wine
(Daintie in savour), bread and weeds divine,
Sign'd with a harmlesse and sweet wind my passe.
Then seventeene dayes at sea I homeward was,
And by the eighteenth the darke hils appeard
That your Earth thrusts up. Much my heart was cheard
(Unhappie man) for that was but a beame
To shew I yet had agonies extreame
To put in sufferance, which th'Earth-shaker sent,
Crossing my way with tempests violent,
Unmeasur'd seas up-lifting; nor would give
The billowes leave to let my vessell live
The least time quiet — that even sigh'd to beare
Their bitter outrage, which, at last, did teare
Her sides in peeces, set on by the winds.
I yet through-swomme the waves that your shore binds,
Till wind and water threw me up to it;
When, coming forth, a ruthlesse billow smit
Against huge rocks, and an acceslesse shore,
My mangl'd body. Backe againe I bore,
And swom till I was falne upon a flood,
Whose shores, me thought, on good advantage stood
For my receit, rock-free and fenc't from wind.
And this I put for, gathering up my mind.
Then the divine Night came, and, tredding Earth,
Close by the flood that had from Jove her birth,
Within a thicket I reposde — when round
I ruffld up falne leaves in heape, and found
(Let fall from heaven) a sleepe interminate.
And here my heart (long time excruciate)
Amongst the leaves I rested all that night,
Even till the morning and meridian light.
The Sunne declining then, delightsome sleepe
No longer laid my temples in his steepe,
But forth I went, and on the shore might see
Your daughter's maids play. Like a Deitie
She shin'd above them, and I praid to her:
And she in disposition did prefer
Noblesse and wisedome, no more low than might
Become the goodnesse of a Goddesse' height.
Nor would you therefore hope (supposde distrest
As I was then, and old) to find the least
Of any Grace from her, being yonger farre.
With yong folkes Wisedome makes her commerce rare.
Yet she in all abundance did bestow
Both wine (that makes the blood in humanes grow)
And food, and bath'd me in the flood, and gave
The weeds to me which now ye see me have.
This through my griefes I tell you, and tis true."
Alcinous answerd: " Guest! my daughter knew
Least of what most you give her, nor became
The course she tooke, to let with every Dame
Your person lackey, nor hath with them brought
Your selfe home too, which first you had besought."
" O blame her not," said he, " Heroicall Lord,
Nor let me heare against her worth a word.
She faultlesse is, and wisht I would have gone
With all her women home: but I alone
Would venture my receit here, having feare
And reverend aw of accidents that were
Of likely issue — both your wrath to move,
And to inflame the common people's love
Of speaking ill, to which they soone give place:
We men are all a most suspicious race."
" My guest," said he, " I use not to be stird
To wrath too rashly, and where are preferd
To men's conceits things that may both waies faile,
The noblest ever should the most prevaile.
Would Jove our Father, Pallas and the Sunne
That (were you still as now and could but runne
One Fate with me) you would my daughter wed
And be my son-in-law; still vowd to leade
Your rest of life here. I a house would give
And houshold goods, so freely you would live
Confin'd with us: but gainst your will shall none
Containe you here, since that were violence done
To Jove our Father. For your passage home,
That you may well know we can overcome
So great a voyage, thus it shall succeed:
Tomorrow shall our men take all their heed
(While you securely sleepe) to see the seas
In calmest temper, and (if that will please)
Shew you your Country and your house ere night,
Though farre beyond Eubaea be that sight.
And this Eubaea (as our subjects say
That have bin there and seene) is farre away
Farthest from us of all the parts they know,
And made the triall when they helpt to row
The gold-lockt Rhadamanth, to give him view
Of Earth-borne Tityus — whom their speeds did shew
(In that far-off Eubaea) the same day
They set from hence, and home made good their way
With ease againe, and him they did convay.
Which I report to you to let you see
How swift my ships are and how matchlesly
My yong Phaeacians with their oares prevaile
To beate the sea through and assist a saile."
This cheard Ulysses, who in private praid:
" I would to Jove our Father, what he said
He could performe at all parts; he should then
Be glorified for ever, and I gaine
My naturall Country." This discourse they had,
When faire-armd Arete her handmaids bad
A bed make in the Portico, and plie
With cloaths — the Covering Tapestrie,
The Blankets purple. Wel-napt Wastcoates too,
To weare for more warmth. What these had to do,
They torches tooke and did. The Bed purvaid,
They mov'd Ulysses for his rest, and said:
" Come, Guest, your Bed is fit; now frame to rest."
Motion of sleepe was gracious to their Guest,
Which now he tooke profoundly, being laid
Within a loop-hole Towre, where was convaid
The sounding Portico. The King tooke rest
In a retir'd part of the house, where drest
The Queene her selfe a Bed and Trundlebed,
And by her Lord reposde her reverend head.