Reposing of her son deep in her heart,
Again with her attendant maidens sought
Her upper chamber. There arrived, she wept
Her lost Ulysses, till Minerva bathed
Her weary lids in dewy sleep profound.
Then echoed through the palace dark-bedimm’d
With evening shades the suitors boist’rous roar,
For each the royal bed burn’d to partake,
Whom thus Telemachus discrete address’d.
To contumacious wrangling fierce, suspend
Your clamour, for a course to me it seems
More decent far, when such a bard as this,
Godlike, for sweetness, sings, to hear his song.
To-morrow meet we in full council all,
That I may plainly warn you to depart
From this our mansion. Seek ye where ye may
Your feasts; consume your own; alternate feed
Each at the other’s cost; but if it seem
Wisest in your account and best, to eat
Voracious thus the patrimonial goods
Of one man, rend’ring no account of all,
Bite to the roots; but know that I will cry
Ceaseless to the eternal Gods, in hope
That Jove, for retribution of the wrong,
Shall doom you, where ye have intruded, there
To bleed, and of your blood ask no account.
At his undaunted hardiness of speech.
Telemachus! the Gods, methinks, themselves
Teach thee sublimity, and to pronounce
Thy matter fearless. Ah forbid it, Jove!
That one so eloquent should with the weight
Of kingly cares in Ithaca be charged,
A realm, by claim hereditary, thine.
Although my speech Antinoüs may, perchance,
Provoke thee, know that I am not averse
From kingly cares, if Jove appoint me such.
Seems it to thee a burthen to be fear’d
By men above all others? trust me, no,
There is no ill in royalty; the man
So station’d, waits not long ere he obtain
Riches and honour. But I grant that Kings
Of the Achaians may no few be found
In sea-girt Ithaca both young and old,
Of whom since great Ulysses is no more,
Reign whoso may; but King, myself, I am
In my own house, and over all my own
Domestics, by Ulysses gained for me.
Of Polybus. What Grecian Chief shall reign
In sea-girt Ithaca, must be referr’d
To the Gods’ will, Telemachus! meantime
Thou hast unquestionable right to keep
Thy own, and to command in thy own house.
May never that man on her shores arrive,
While an inhabitant shall yet be left
In Ithaca, who shall by violence wrest
Thine from thee. But permit me, noble Sir!
To ask thee of thy guest. Whence came the man?
What country claims him? Where are to be found
His kindred and his patrimonial fields?
Brings he glad tidings of thy Sire’s approach
Homeward? or came he to receive a debt
Due to himself? How swift he disappear’d!
Nor opportunity to know him gave
To those who wish’d it; for his face and air
Him speak not of Plebeian birth obscure.
Eurymachus! my father comes no more.
I can no longer now tidings believe,
If such arrive; nor heed I more the song
Of sooth-sayers whom my mother may consult.
But this my guest hath known in other days
My father, and he came from Taphos, son
Of brave Anchialus, Mentes by name,
And Chief of the sea-practis’d Taphian race.
Knew well his guest a Goddess from the skies.
Then they to dance and heart-enlivening song
Turn’d joyous, waiting the approach of eve,
And dusky evening found them joyous still.
Then each, to his own house retiring, sought
Needful repose. Meantime Telemachus
To his own lofty chamber, built in view
Of the wide hall, retired; but with a heart
In various musings occupied intense.
Sage Euryclea, bearing in each hand
A torch, preceded him; her sire was Ops,
Pisenor’s son, and, in her early prime,
At his own cost Laertes made her his,
Paying with twenty beeves her purchase- price,
Nor in less honour than his spotless wife
He held her ever, but his consort’s wrath
Fearing, at no time call’d her to his bed.
She bore the torches, and with truer heart
Loved him than any of the female train,
For she had nurs’d him in his infant years.
He open’d his broad chamber-valves, and sat
On his couch- side: then putting off his vest
Of softest texture, placed it in the hands
Of the attendant dame discrete, who first
Folding it with exactest care, beside
His bed suspended it, and, going forth,
Drew by its silver ring the
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