Came from the field, and from the gallant ship
The ship-mates of the brave Telemachus;
Next, charged with all his implements of art,
His mallet, anvil, pincers, came the smith
To give the horns their gilding; also came
Pallas herself to her own sacred rites.
Then Nestor, hoary warrior, furnish’d gold,
Which, hammer’d thin, the artist wrapp’d around
The victim’s horns, that seeing him attired
So costly, Pallas might the more be pleased.
Stratius and brave Echephron introduced
The victim by his horns; Aretus brought
A laver in one hand, with flow’rs emboss’d,
And in his other hand a basket stored
With cakes, while warlike Thrasymedes, arm’d
With his long-hafted ax, prepared to smite
The ox, and Perseus to receive the blood.
The hoary Nestor consecrated first
Both cakes and water, and with earnest pray’r
To Pallas, gave the forelock to the flames.
Sprinkled, then godlike Thrasymedes drew
Close to the ox, and smote him. Deep the edge
Enter’d, and senseless on the floor he fell.
Then Nestor’s daughters, and the consorts all
Of Nestor’s sons, with his own consort, chaste
Eurydice, the daughter eldest-born
Of Clymenus, in one shrill orison
Vocif’rous join’d, while they, lifting the ox,
Held him supported firmly, and the prince
Of men, Pisistratus, his gullet pierced.
Soon as the sable blood had ceased, and life
Had left the victim, spreading him abroad,
With nice address they parted at the joint
His thighs, and wrapp’d them in the double cawl,
Which with crude slices thin they overspread.
Nestor burn’d incense, and libation pour’d
Large on the hissing brands, while him beside,
Busy with spit and prong, stood many a youth
Train’d to the task. The thighs consumed, each took
His portion of the maw, then, slashing well
The remnant, they transpierced it with the spits
Neatly, and held it reeking at the fire.
Meantime the youngest of the daughters fair
Of Nestor, beauteous Polycaste, laved,
Anointed, and in vest and tunic cloathed
Telemachus, who, so refresh’d, stepp’d forth
From the bright laver graceful as a God,
And took his seat at antient Nestor’s side.
The viands dress’d, and from the spits withdrawn,
They sat to share the feast, and princely youths
Arising, gave them wine in cups of gold.
When neither hunger now nor thirst remain’d
Unsated, thus Gerenian Nestor spake.
And yoke them, that Telemachus may go.
Obedient, yoked in haste the rapid steeds,
And the intendant matron of the stores
Disposed meantime within the chariot, bread
And wine, and dainties, such as princes eat.
Telemachus into the chariot first
Ascended, and beside him, next, his place
Pisistratus the son of Nestor took,
Then seiz’d the reins, and lash’d the coursers on.
They, nothing loth, into the open plain
Flew, leaving lofty Pylus soon afar.
Thus, journeying, they shook on either side
The yoke all day, and now the setting sun
To dusky evening had resign’d the roads,
When they to Pheræ came, and the abode
Reach’d of Diocles, whose illustrious Sire
Orsilochus from Alpheus drew his birth,
And there, with kindness entertain’d, they slept.
Look’d rosy from the East, yoking the steeds,
They in their sumptuous chariot sat again.
The son of Nestor plied the lash, and forth
Through vestibule and sounding portico
The royal coursers, not unwilling, flew.
A corn-invested land receiv’d them next,
And there they brought their journey to a close,
So rapidly they moved; and now the sun
Went down, and even-tide dimm’d all the ways.
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