|
||||||||
Book 21 Penelope proposes to the suitors a contest with the bow, herself the prize. They prove unable to bend the bow; when Ulysses having with some difficulty possessed himself of it, manages it with the utmost ease, and dispatches his arrow through twelve rings erected for the trial. Prompted Icarius daughter, the discrete Penelope, with bow and rings to prove Her suitors in Ulysses courts, a game Terrible in conclusion to them all. First, taking in her hand the brazen key Well-forged, and fitted with an ivry grasp, Attended by the women of her train She sought her inmost chamber, the recess In which she kept the treasures of her Lord, His brass, his gold, and steel elaborate. Here lay his stubborn bow, and quiver filld With numrous shafts, a fatal store. That bow He had received and quiver from the hand Of godlike Iphitus Eurytides, Whom, in Messenia, in the house he met Of brave Orsilochus. Ulysses came Demanding payment of arrearage due From all that land; for a Messenian fleet Had borne from Ithaca three hundred sheep, With all their shepherds; for which cause, ere yet Adult, he voyaged to that distant shore, Deputed by his sire, and by the Chiefs Of Ithaca, to make the just demand. But Iphitus had thither come to seek Twelve mares and twelve mule colts which he had lost, A search that cost him soon a bloody death. For, coming to the house of Hercules The valiant task-performing son of Jove, He perishd there, slain by his cruel host Who, heedless of heavns wrath, and of the rights Of his own board, first fed, then slaughterd him; For in his house the mares and colts were hidden. He, therefore, occupied in that concern, Meeting Ulysses there, gave him the bow Which, erst, huge Eurytus had borne, and which Himself had from his dying sire received. Ulysses, in return, on him bestowed A spear and sword, pledges of future love And hospitality; but never more They met each other at the friendly board, For, ere that hour arrived, the son of Jove Slew his own guest, the godlike Iphitus. Thus came the bow into Ulysses hands, Which, never in his gallant barks he bore To battle with him, (though he used it oft In times of peace) but left it safely stored At home, a dear memorial of his friend. At that same chamber, with her foot she pressd The oaken threshold bright, on which the hand Of no mean architect had stretchd the line, Who had erected also on each side The posts on which the splendid portals hung, She loosd the ring and brace, then introduced The key, and aiming at them from without, Struck back the bolts. The portals, at that stroke, Sent forth a tone deep as the pasturd bulls, And flew wide open. She, ascending, next, The elevated floor on which the chests That held her own fragrant apparel stood, With lifted hand aloft took down the bow In its embroiderd bow-case safe enclosed. Then, sitting there, she layd it on her knees, Weeping aloud, and drew it from the case. Thus weeping over it long time she sat, Till satiate, at the last, with grief and tears, Descending by the palace steps she sought Again the haughty suitors, with the bow Elastic, and the quiver in her hand Replete with pointed shafts, a deadly store. Her maidens, as she went, bore after her A coffer filld with prizes by her Lord, Much brass and steel; and when at length she came, Loveliest of women, where the suitors sat, Between the pillars of the stately dome Pausing, before her beauteous face she held Her lucid veil, and by two matrons chaste Supported, the assembly thus addressd. This palace of a Chief long absent hence, Whose substance ye have now long time consumed, Nor palliative have yet contrived, or could, Save your ambition to make me a bride Attend this game to which I call you forth. Now suitors! prove yourselves with this huge bow Of wide-renownd Ulysses; he who draws Easiest the bow, and who his arrow sends Through twice six rings, he takes me to his home, And I must leave this mansion of my youth Plenteous, magnificent, which, doubtless, oft I shall remember even in my dreams. Before them, and the twice six rings of steel. He wept, received them, and obeyd; nor wept The herdsman less, seeing the bow which erst His Lord had occupied; when at their tears Indignant, thus, Antinoüs began. Beyond the present hour, egregious fools! Why weeping trouble ye the Queen, too much Before afflicted for her husband lost? Either partake the banquet silently, Or else go weep abroad, leaving the bow, That stubborn test, to us; for none, I judge, None here shall bend |
||||||||
|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Copyright: All texts on Bibliomania are © Bibliomania.com Ltd, and may not be reproduced in any form without our written permission. See our FAQ for more details. | ||||||||