Eager they view'd; with joy they stood amazed:
With tearful eyes o'er all their master gazed:
Around his neck their longing arms they cast,
His head, his shoulders, and his knees embraced:
Tears follow'd tears: no word was in their power;
In solemn silence fell the kindly shower.
But, since till then this trial you delay,
Trust it one moment to my hands to-day:
Fain would I prove, before your judging eyes,
What once I was, whom wretched you despise ;
If yet this arm its ancient force retain ;
Or if my woes (a long continued train)
The king too weeps, the king too grasps their hands, And wants and insults, make me less than man.
And moveless, as a marble fountain, stands.
Rage flash'd in lightning from the suitors' eyes,
Yet mix'd with terror at the bold emprise.
Antinous then: O miserable guest!
Is common sense quite banish'd from thy breast? 310
Sufficed it not, within the palace placed,
To sit distinguish'd with our presence graced,
Admitted here with princes to confer,
A man unknown, a needy wanderer ?
To copious wine this insolence we owe,
And much thy betters wine can overthrow:
The great Eurytion, when this phrenzy stung,
250 Pirithous' roofs with frantic riot rung;
Thus had their joy wept down the setting sun, 240
But first the wise man ceased, and thus begun :
Enough-on other cares your thoughts employ,
For danger waits on all untimely joy.
Full many foes, and fierce, observe us near;
Some may betray, and yonder walls may hear.
Re-enter then, not all at once, but stay
Some moments you, and let me lead the way.
To me, neglected as I am, I know
The haughty suitors will deny the bow;
But thou, Eumæus, as 'tis borne away,
Thy master's weapon to his hand convey.
At every portal let some matron wait,
And each lock fast the wall-compacted gate:
Close let them keep whate'er invade their ear;
Though arms, or shouts, or dying groans they hear.
To thy strict charge, Philætius we consign
The court's main gate: to guard that pass be thine.
This said, he first return'd: the faithful swains
At distance follow, as their king ordains.
Before the flames Eurymachus now stands,
And turns the bow, and chafes it with his hands:
Still the tough bow unmoved. The lofty man
Sigh'd from his mighty soul, and thus began:
I mourn the common cause; for, oh, my friends
On me, on all, what grief, what shame attends!
Not the lost nuptials can affect me more,
(For Greece has beauteous dames on every shore,)
But baffled thus! confess'd so far below
Ulysses strength, as not to bend his bow!
How shall all ages our attempt deride!
Our weakness scorn! Antinous thus replied:
Not so, Eurymachus: that no man draws
The wondrous bow, attend another cause.
Sacred to Phoebus is the solemn day,
Boundless the Centaur raged; till one and all
The heroes rose, and dragg'd him from the hall; 320
His nose they shorten'd, and his ears they slit,
And sent him sober'd home with better wit.
Hence with long war the double race was cursed,
Fatal to all, but to the aggressor first.
Such Fate I prophecy our guest attends,
If here this interdicted bow he bends:
Nor shall these walls such insolence contain;
The first fair wind transports him o'er the main
Where Echetus to death the guilty brings
(The worst of mortals, even the worst of kings.) 330
Better than that, if thou approve our cheer;
Cease the mad strife, and share our bounty here.
To this the queen her just dislike express'd;
'Tis impious, prince, to harm the stranger-guest,
Base to insult who bears a suppliant's name,
And some respect Telemachus may claim.
What if the immortals on the man bestow
270 Sufficient strength to draw the mighty bow?
Shall I, a queen, by rival chiefs adored,
Accept a wandering stranger for my lord?
A hope so idle never touch'd his brain:
Then ease your bosoms of a fear so vain.
Far be he banish'd from this stately scene
Who wrongs his princess with a thought so mean.
O fair! and wisest of so fair a kind!
(Respectful thus Eurymachus rejoin'd,)
Moved by no weak surmise, but sense of shame,
280 We dread the all-arraigning voice of Fame:
We dread the censure of the meanest slave,
The weakest woman: all can wrong the brave. 350
Behold what wretches to the bed pretend
Of that brave chief, whose bow they could not
bend!
Which thoughtless we in games would waste away;
Till the next dawn this ill-timed strife forego,
And here leave fixed the ringlets in a row.
Now bid the sewer approach, and let us join
In due libations, and in rites divine,
So end our night before the day shall spring,
The choicest offerings let Melanthius bring;
Let them to Phoebus' name the fatted thighs
Feed the rich smokes, high curling to the skies.
So shall the patron of these arts bestow
(For his the gift) the skill to bend the bow.
They heard well-pleased: the ready heralds
The cleansing waters from the limpid spring:
The goblet high with rosy wine they crown'd,
In order circling to the peers around.
That rite complete, uprose the thoughtful man
And thus his meditated scheme began:
If what I ask, your noble minds approve,
Ye peers and rivals in the royal love!
Chief, if it hurt not great Antinoüs' ear
(Whose sage decision 1 with wonder hear,)
And if Eurymachus the motion please;
bring In came a beggar of the strolling crew,
Give Heaven this day, and rest the bow in peace.
To-morrow let your arms dispute the prize,
And take it he, the favour'd of the skies!
And did what all those princes could not do.'
Thus will the common voice our deed defame,
And thus posterity upbraid our name.
290 To whom the queen: If fame engage your views,
Forbear those acts which infamy pursues:
Wrong and oppression no renown can raise ;
Know, friend! that virtue is the path to praise. 360
The stature of our guest, his port, his face,
Speak him descended from no vulgar race.
To him the bow, as he desires, convey;
And to his hand if Phoebus give the day,
Hence, to reward his merit, he shall bear
A two-edged falchion, and a shining spear,
Embroider'd sandals, a rich cloak and vest,
A safe conveyance to his port of rest.
O royal mother! ever honour'd name!
Permit me, (cries Telemachus,) to claim
A son's just right. No Grecian prince but I
Has power this bow to grant, or to deny.
Of all that Ithaca's rough hills contain,
And all wide Elis' courser-breeding plain,
To me alone my father's arms descend;
And mine alone they are, to give or lend.
Retire, oh queen! thy household task resume,
Tend, with thy maids, the labours of the loom;
The bow, the darts, and arms of chivalry,
These cares to man belong, and most to me.
Mature beyond his years, the queen admired
His
sage reply, and with her train retired;
There in her chamber as she sate apart,
Revolved his words, and placed them in her heart.
On her Ulysses then she fix'd her soul;
Down her fair cheek the tears abundant roll,
Till gentle Pallas, piteous of her cries,
In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes.
Now through the press the bow Eumæus bore,
And all was riot, noise, and wild uproar.
Hold! lawless rustic whither wilt thou go?
To whom, insensate, dost thou bear the bow?
Exiled for this to some sequester'd den,
Far from the sweet society of men,
Heaven to this wretch, (another cried) be kind!
And bless, in all to which he stands inclined,
With such good fortune as he now shall find
Heedless he heard them: but disdain'd reply,
The bow perusing with exactest eye.
Then, as some heavenly minstrel, taught to sing 400
High notes responsive to the trembling string,
To some new strain when he adapts the lyre,
Or the dumb lute refits with vocal wire,
Relaxes, strains, and draws them to and fro,
So the great master drew the mighty bow:
And drew with ease. One hand aloft display'd
The bending horns, and one the string essay'd.
380 From his essaying hand the string let fly,
Twang'd short and sharp like the shrill swallow's cry,
A general horror ran through all the race,
Sunk was each heart, and pale was every face.
Signs from above ensued: the unfolding sky
In lightning burst; Jove thunder'd from on high.
Fired at the call of heaven's Almighty Lord,
He snatch'd the shaft that glitter'd on the board:
(Fast by, the rest lay sleeping in the sheath,
But soon to fly the messengers of death.)
Now sitting as he was, the cord he drew,
Through every ringlet levelling his view;
Then notch'd the shaft, released, and gave it wing;
The whizzing arrow vanish'd from the string,
Sung on direct, and threaded every ring.
The solid gate its fury scarcely bounds;
Pierced through and through, the solid gate resounds.
Then to the prince: Nor have I wrought thee shame:
Nor err'd this hand unfaithful to its aim;
Nor proved the toil too hard; nor have I lost
That ancient vigour, once my pride and boast.
Ill I deserved these haughty peers' disdain;
Now let them comfort their dejected train,
In sweet repast their present hour employ,
Nor wait till evening for the genial joy:
Then to the lute's soft voice prolong the night;
Music, the banquet's most refined delight.
To thy own dogs a prey thou shalt be made;
If Heaven and Phœbus lend the suitors aid.
Thus they. Aghast he laid the weapon down,
But bold Telemachus thus urged him on.
Proceed, false slave, and slight their empty words;
What! hopes the fool to please so many lords? 400
Young as I am, thy prince's vengeful hand
Stretch'd forth in wrath, shall drive thee from the land.
Oh! could the vigour of this arm as well
The oppressive suitors from my walls expel!
Then what a shoal of lawless men should go
To fill with tumult the dark courts below!
The suitors with a scornful smile survey
The youth, indulging in the genial day.
Eumæus, thus encouraged, hastes to bring
The strifeful bow, and gives it to the king.
Old Euryclea calling them aside,
Hear what Telemachus enjoins (he cried :)
At every portal let some matron wait,
And each lock fast the well-compacted gate;
And if unusual sounds invade their ear,
If arms, or shouts, or dying groans they hear,
Let none to call or issue forth presume,
But close attend the labours of the loom.
Her prompt obedience on his order waits;
Closed in an instant were the palace gates.
In the same moment forth Philætius flies,
Secures the court, and with a cable ties
The utmost gate (the cable, strongly wrought
Of Byblos' reed, a ship from Egypt brought;)
Then unperceived and silent at the board
His seat he takes; his eyes upon his lord.
And now his well-known bow the master bore,
Turn'd on all sides, and view'd it o'er and o'er;
Lest time or worms had done the weapon wrong,
Its owner absent, and untried so long.
While some deriding-How he turns the bow!
Some other like it sure the man must know,
Or else would copy; or in bows he deals;
Perhaps he makes them, or perhaps he steals.—
He said, then gave a nod; and at the word
Telemachus girds on his shining sword.
Fast by his father's side he takes his stand:
410 The beamy javelin lightens in his hand.
BOOK XXII.
ARGUMENT.
The Death of the Suitors.
Ulysses begins the slaughter of the suitors by the death of Antinous. He declares himself, and lets fly his arrows at the rest. Telemachus assists, and brings arms for his father, himself, Eumæus, and Philætius. Melanthius does the same for the wooers. Minerva encourages Ulysses in the shape of Mentor. The suitors are all slain, only Medon and Phemius are spared. Melanthius and the unfaithful servants are executed. The rest acknowledge their master with all demonstrations of joy.
THEN fierce the hero o'er the threshold strode;
430 Stript of his rags, he blazed out like a god.
Full in their face the lifted bow he bore,
And quiver'd deaths, a formidable store:
Before his feet the rattling shower he threw,
And thus, terrific, to the suitor crew:
One venturous game this hand has won to-day,
Another, princes! yet remains to play;
Another mark our arrow must attain.
Phoebus, assist! nor be the labour vain.
Swift as the word the parting arrow sings,
And bears thy fate, Antinous, on its wings:
Wretch that he was, of unprophetic soul!
High in his hands, he rear'd the golden bowl!
Even then to drain it lengthen'd out his breath;
Changed to the deep, the bitter draught of death:
For fate who fear'd amidst a feastful band?
And fate to numbers, by a single hand?
If offer'd, vainly should for mercy call,
'Tis you that offer, and I scorn them all;
Your blood is my demand, your lives the prize,
10 Till pale as yonder wretch each suitor lies.
Hence with those coward terms; or fight or fly;
This choice is left you, to resist or die:
And die I trust ye shall.-He sternly spoke:
With guilty fears the pale assembly shook.
Alone Eurymachus exhorts the train;
Yon archer, comrades will not shoot in vain :
But from the threshold shall his darts be sped,
(Whoe'er he be till every prince lie dead?
Be mindful of yourselves, draw forth your swords,
And to his shafts obtend these ample boards
21 (So need compels.) Then, all united, strive
The bold invader from his post to drive;
The city roused shall to our rescue haste,
And this mad archer soon have shot his last.
Swift as spoke, he drew his traitor sword,
And like a lion rush'd against his lord:
The wary chief the rushing foe represt,
Who met the point, and forced it in his breast:
His failing hand deserts the lifted sword,
And prone he falls extended o'er the board!
Before him wide, in mix'd effusion roll
The untasted viands, and the jovial bowl.
Full through his liver pass'd the mortal wound,
With dying rage his forehead beats the ground;
He spurn'd the seat with fury as he fell,
And the fierce soul to darkness dived, and hell.
Next bold Amphinomus his arms extends
To force the pass; the godlike man defends.
Thy spear, Telemachus, prevents the attack,
40 The brazen weapon driving through his back,
Thence through his breast its bloody passage tore,
Flat falls he thundering on the marble floor.
And his crush'd forehead marks the stone with
gore.
Full through his throat Ulysses' weapon pass'd,
And pierced the neck. He falls and breathes his last.
The tumbling goblet the wide floor o'erflows,
A stream of gore burst spouting from his nose;
Grim in convulsive agonies he sprawls:
Before him spurn'd, the loaded table falls,
And spreads the pavement with a mingled flood
Of floating meats, and wine, and human blood.
Amazed, confounded, as they saw him fall,
Uprose the throngs tumultuous round the hall;
O'er all the dome they cast a haggard eye,
Each look'd for arms: in vain; no arms were nigh.
Aim'st thou at princes? (all amazed they said ;) 31
Thy last of games unhappy hast thou play'd;
Thy erring shaft has made our bravest bleed,
And death, unlucky guest, attends thy deed.
Vultures shall tear thee-Thus incensed they spoke,
While each to chance ascribed the wondrous stroke,
Blind as they were: for death even now invades
His destined prey, and wraps them all in shades.
Then grimly frowning, with a dreadful look,
That wither'd all their hearts, Ulysses spoke:
Dogs, ye have had your day! ye fear'd no more
Ulysses vengeful from the Trojan shore;
While, to your lust and spoil a guardless prey
Our house, our wealth, our helpless handmaids lay:
Not so content, with bolder phrenzy fired,
Even to our bed presumptuous you aspired:
Laws, or divine, or human, fail'd to move,
Or shame of men, or dread of gods above;
Heedless alike of infamy or praise,
Or Fame's eternal voice in future days:
The hour of vengeance, wretches, now is come,
Impending fate is yours, and instant doom.
Thus dreadful he. Confused the suitors stood,
From their pale cheeks recedes the flying blood:
Trembling they sought their guilty heads to hide,
Alone the bold Eurymachus replied:
If, as thy words import, (he thus began,)
Ulysses lives, and thou the mighty man,
Great are thy wrongs, and much thou hast sustain'd
In thy spoil'd palace, and exhausted land;
The cause and author of those guilty deeds,
Lo! at thy feet unjust Antinous bleeds.
Not love, but wild ambition was his guide;
To slay thy son, thy kingdoms to divide,
These were his aims; but juster Jove denied.
Since cold in death the offender lies, oh spare
Thy suppliant people, and receive their prayer!
Brass, gold, and treasures, shall the spoil defray,
Two hundred oxen every prince shall pay :
The waste of years refunded in a day.
Till then thy wrath is just.-Ulysses burn'd
With high disdain, and sternly thus return'd:
All, all the treasures that enrich'd our throne
Before your rapines, join'd with all your own,
He left his javelin in the dead, for fear
The long encumbrance of the weighty spear
To the fierce foe advantage might afford,
To rush between, and use the shorten'd sword.
With speedy ardour to his sire he flies,
50 And, arm, great father! arm, (in haste, he cries;)
Lo hence I run for other arms to wield,
For missile javelins, and for helm and shield;
Fast by our side let either faithful swain
In arms attend us, and their part sustain.
Haste, and return, (Ulysses made reply)
While yet the auxiliary shafts this hand supply;
Lest thus alone, encounter'd by an host,
Driven from the gate, the important pass be lost.
With speed Telemachus obeys, and flies
Where piled in heaps the royal armour lies;
Four brazen helmets, eight refulgent spears,
And four broad bucklers to his sire he bears:
At once in brazen panoply they shone,
At once each servant braced his armour on;
Around their king a faithful guard they stand,
While yet each shaft flew deathful from his hand :
Chief after chief expired at every wound,
And swell'd the bleeding mountain on the ground.
Soon as his store of flying fates was spent,
70 Against the wall he set the bow unbent,
And now his shoulders bear the massy shield,
And now his hands two beamy javelins wield:
He frowns beneath his nodding plume, that play'd 140
O'er the high crest, and cast a dreadful shade.
There stood a window near, whence looking down | So drawn aloft, athwart the column tied,
From o'er the porch appear'd the subject town.
A double strength of valves secured the place,
A high and narrow, but the only pass:
The cautious king, with all-preventing care,
To guard that outlet, placed Eumæus there:
When Agelais thus: Has none the sense
To mount yon window, and alarm from thence
The neighbour town? the town shall force the door,
And this bold archer soon shall shoot no more. 151
Melanthius then: That outlet to the gate
So near adjoins, that one may guard the strait.
But other methods of defence remain;
Myself with arms can furnish all the train;
Stores from the royal magazine I bring,
The howling felon swung from side to side.
Eumæus scoffing then with keen disdain :
There pass thy pleasing night, oh gentle swain!
On that soft pillow, from that envied height,
First may'st thou see the springing dawn of light;
So timely rise, when morning streaks the east,
To drive thy victims to the suitors' feast.
This said, they left him, tortured as he lay,
Secured the door, and hasty strode away:
Each, breathing death, resumed his dangerous post
Near great Ulysses; four against a host.
When lo descending to her hero's aid,
Jove's daughter Pallas, war's triumphant maid:
In Mentor's friendly form she join'd his side:
And their own darts shall pierce the prince and king. Ulysses saw, and thus with transport cried :
He said; and mounting up the lofty stairs,
Twelve shields, twelve lances, and twelve helmets
bears:
All arm,
and sudden round the hall appears
A blaze of bucklers, and a wood of spears.
The hero stands oppress'd with mighty woe;
On every side he sees the labour grow:
Oh, curst event! and oh, unlook'd-for aid!
Melanthius or the women have betray'd-
Oh, my dear son!-The father with a sigh,
Then ceased; the filial virtue made reply:
Falsehood is folly, and 'tis just to own
The fault committed: this was mine alone;
My haste neglected yonder door to bar,
And hence the villain has supplied their war.
Run, good Eumæus, then, and (what before
I thoughtless err'd in) well secure that door:
Learn, if by female fraud this deed were done,
Or (as my thought misgives) by Dolius' son.
While yet they spoke, in quest of arms again
To the high chamber stole the faithless swain,
Not unobserved. Eumæus watchful eyed,
And thus address'd Ulysses near his side:
The miscreant we suspected takes that way;
Him, if this arm be powerful, shall I slay?
Or drive him hither, to receive the meed
From thy own hand, of this detested deed?
Not so (replied Ulysses ;) leave him there;
For us sufficient is another care;
Within the structure of this palace wall
To keep enclosed his masters till they fall:
Go you, and seize the felon; backward bind
His arms and legs, and fix a plank behind;
On this his body by strong cords extend,
And on a column near the roof suspend:
So studied tortures his vile days shall end.
The ready swains obey'd with joyful haste.
Behind the felon unperceived they pass'd,
As round the room in quest of arms he goes;
(The half-shut door conceal'd his lurking foes :)
One hand sustain'd a helm, and one the shield,
Which old Laertes wont in youth to wield,
Cover'd with dust, with dryness chapt and worn,
The brass corroded, and the leather torn.
Thus laden, o'er the threshold as he stepp'd,
Fierce on the villain from each side they leap'd,
Back by the hair the trembling dastard drew,
And down reluctant on the pavement threw.
Active and pleased the zealous swains fulfil
At every point their master's rigid will;
First, fast behind, his hands and feet they bound,
Then straiten'd cords involved his body round;
Come, ever welcome, and thy succour lend;
Oh every sacred name in one! my friend!
Early we loved, and long our loves have grown:
160 Whate'er through life's whole series I have done,
Or good, or grateful, now to mind recall,
And, aiding this one hour, repay it all.
Thus he; but pleasing hopes his bosom warm,
Of Pallas latent in the friendly form.
The adverse host the phantom-warrior eyed,
And first, loud threatening Agelaüs cried :
Mentor, beware, nor let that tongue persuade
Thy frantic arm to lend Ulysses aid;
Our force successful shall our threat make good, 170 And with the sire and son's commix thy blood. What hopest thou here? Thee first the sword shall slay,
Then lop thy whole posterity away;
Far hence thy banish'd consort shall we send;
With his, thy forfeit lands and treasures blend;
Thus, and thus only, shalt thou join thy friend.
His barbarous insult even the goddess fires,
Who thus the warrior to revenge inspires:
Art thou Ulysses? where then shall we find
180 The patient body and the constant mind?
That courage, once the Trojans' daily dread,
Known nine long years, and felt by heroes dead?
And where that conduct, which revenged the lust 250
Of Priam's race, and laid proud Troy in dust?
If this, when Helen was the cause, were done,
What for thy country now, thy queen, thy son?
Rise then in combat, at my side attend;
Observe what vigour gratitude can lend,
And foes how weak, opposed against a friend!
She spoke; but willing longer to survey
The sire and son's great acts, withheld the day;
By farther toils decreed the brave to try,
And level poised the wings of victory;
Then with a change of form eludes their sight,
Perch'd like a swallow on a rafter's height,
And unperceived enjoys the rising fight.
Damastor's son, bold Agelaüs, leads
The guilty war; Eurynomus succeeds;
With these, Pisander, great Polictor's son
Sage Polybus, and stern Amphymedon,
With Demoptolemus: these six survive;
The best of all the shafts had left alive.
Amidst the carnage, desperate as they stand,
Thus Agelaus roused the lagging band:
The hour is come, when yon fierce man no more
With bleeding princes shall bestrew the floor.
Lo! Mentor leaves him with an empty boast;
The four remain, but four against a host.
Let each at once discharge the deadly dart, One sure of six shall reach Ulysses' heart: The rest must perish their great leader slain; Thus shall one stroke the glory lost regain.
Then all at once their mingled lances threw, And thirsty all of one man's blood they flew; In vain! Minerva turn'd them with her breath, And scatter'd short or wide the points of death! With deaden'd sound one on the threshold falls, One strikes the gate, one rings against the walls: The storm past innocent. The godlike man Now loftier trod, and dreadful thus began: 'Tis now brave friends) our turn, at once to throw (So speed them heaven) our javelins at the foe: That impious race to all their past misdeeds Would add our blood; injustice still proceeds. He spoke at once their fiery lances flew; Great Demoptolemus, Ulysses slew; Euryades received the prince's dart; The goatherd's quiver'd in Pisander's heart: Fierce Elatus by thine, Eumæus falls; Their fall in thunder echoes round the walls. The rest retreat; the victors now advance, Each from the dead resumes his bloody lance. Again the foe discharge the steely shower; Again made frustrate by the virgin-power. Some turn'd by Pallas, on the threshold fall, Some wound the gate, some ring against the wall; Some werk, or ponderous with the brazen head, Drop harmless on the pavement, sounding dead. Then bold Amphimedon his javelin cast; Thy hand Telemachus it lightly razed; And from Ctesippus' arm the spear elanced On good Eumæus' shield and shoulder glanced: Not lessen'd of their force (so slight the wound) 310 Each sung along, and dropp'd upon the ground. Fate doom'd thee next, Eurymadus, to bear Thy death, ennobled by Ulysses' spear. By the bold son Amphimedon was slain, And Polybus renown'd the faithful swain.
|On all sides thus they double wound on wound,
In prostrate heaps the wretches beat the ground:
Unmanly shrieks precede each dying groan,
And a red deluge floats the reeking stone.
Leiodes first before the victor falls:
The wretched'augur thus for mercy calls:
O gracious hear, nor let thy suppliant bleed:
Still undishonour'd, or by word or deed,
Thy house, for me, remains; by me repress'd,
Full oft we check'd the injustice of the rest:
Averse they heard me when I counsell'd well,
Their hearts were harden'd, and they justly fell.
Oh, spare an augur's consecrated head,
Nor add the blameless to the guilty dead.
Priest as thou art! for that detested band
Thy lying prophecies deceived the land:
Against Ulysses have thy vows been made,
For them thy daily orisons were paid :
Yet more, even to our bed thy pride aspires:
One common crime one common fate requires.
Thus speaking, from the ground the sword he took
Which Agelais' dying hand forsook:
Full through his neck the weighty falchion sped:
Along the pavement roll'd the muttering head.
Phemius alone, the hand of vengeance spared,
Phemius the sweet, the heaven-instructed bard.
Beside the gate the reverend minstrel stands;
The lyre now silent trembling in his hands;
Dubious to supplicate the chief, or fly
To Jove's inviolable altar nigh.
Where oft Laërtes holy vows had paid,
And oft Ulysses smoking victims laid.
His honour'd harp with care he first set down,
Between the laver and the silver throne;
Then prostrate stretch'd before the dreadful man,
Persuasive, thus, with accent soft began:
O king to mercy be thy soul inclined,
And spare the poet's ever-gentle kind.
A deed like this thy future fame would wrong,
For dear to gods and men is sacred song.
Pierced through the breast the rude Ctesippus bled, Self-taught I sing: by Heaven and Heaven alone
The genuine seeds of poesy are sown:
And (what the gods bestow) the lofty lay,
To gods alone and godlike worth we pay.
320 Save then the poet, and thyself reward;
'Tis thine to merit, mine is to record.
That here I sung, was force, and not desire:
This hand reluctant touch'd the warbling wire; 390
And let thy son attest, nor sordid pay,
Nor servile flattery stain'd the moral lay,
And thus Philætius gloried o'er the dead:
There end thy pompous vaunts and high disdain;
Oh sharp in scandal, voluble and vain!
How weak is mortal pride! To heaven alone
The event of actions and our fates are known:
Scoffer, behold what gratitude we bear:
The victim's heel is answer'd with his spear.
Ulysses brandish'd high his vengeful steel,
And Damastorides that instant fell;
Fast by, Leocritus expiring lay,
The prince's javelin tore its bloody way
Through all his bowels: down he tumbles prone,
His batter'd front and brains besmear the stone.
Now Pallas shines confess'd! aloft she spreads 330
The arm of vengeance o'er their guilty heads;
The dreadful ægis blazes in their eye:
Amazed they see, they tremble and they fly:
Confused, distracted, through the rooms they fling:
Like oxen madden'd by the breeze's sting,
When sultry days, and long, succeed the gentle
spring.
Not half so keen fierce vultures of the chace
Stoop from the mountains on the feather'd race,
When, the wide field extended snares beset,
With conscious dread they shun the quivering net:
No help, no flight; but wounded every way,
Headlong they drop; the fowlers seize the prey.
The moving words Telemachus attends,
His sire approaches, and the bard defends.
Oh mix not, father, with those impious dead
The man divine; forbear that sacred head;
Medon, the herald, too, our arms may spare,
Medon, who made my infancy his care;
If yet he breathes, permit thy son to give
Thus much to gratitude, and bid him live.
Beneath a table, trembling with dismay,
Couch'd close to earth, unhappy Medon lay,
Wrapp'd in a new slain ox's ample hide:
Swift at the word he cast his screen aside,
Sprung to the prince, embraced his knees with tears,
And thus with grateful voice address'd his ears:
O prince! oh friend! lo here thy Medon stands:
Ah stop the hero's unresisted hands,
341 Incensed too justly by that impious brood,
Whose guilty glories now are set in blood.
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