The Odyssey of Homer Part 30

Ulysses, therefore, that he might obtain Those princely gifts, went thither. Him arrived, With right-hand gratulation and with words Of welcome kind, Autolycus received, Nor less his offspring; but the mother most 520 Of his own mother clung around his neck, Amphithea; she with many a fervent kiss His forehead press'd, and his bright-beaming eyes.

Then bade Autolycus his n.o.ble sons Set forth a banquet. They, at his command, Led in a fatted ox of the fifth year, Which slaying first, they spread him carved abroad, Then scored his flesh, transfixed it with the spits, And roasting all with culinary skill Exact, gave each his portion. Thus they sat 530 Feasting all day, and till the sun declined, But when the sun declined, and darkness fell, Each sought his couch, and took the gift of sleep.

Then, soon as day-spring's daughter rosy-palm'd Aurora look'd abroad, forth went the hounds, And, with the hounds Ulysses, and the youths, Sons of Autolycus, to chase the boar.

Arrived at the Parna.s.sian mount, they climb'd His bushy sides, and to his airy heights Ere long attain'd. It was the pleasant hour 540 When from the gently-swelling flood profound The sun, emerging, first smote on the fields.

The hunters reach'd the valley; foremost ran, Questing, the hounds; behind them, swift, the sons Came of Autolycus, with whom advanced The ill.u.s.trious Prince Ulysses, pressing close The hounds, and brandishing his ma.s.sy spear.

There, hid in thickest shades, lay an huge boar.

That covert neither rough winds blowing moist Could penetrate, nor could the noon-day sun 550 Smite through it, or fast-falling show'rs pervade, So thick it was, and underneath the ground With litter of dry foliage strew'd profuse.

Hunters and dogs approaching him, his ear The sound of feet perceived; upridging high His bristly back and glaring fire, he sprang Forth from the shrubs, and in defiance stood Near and right opposite. Ulysses, first, Rush'd on him, elevating his long spear Ardent to wound him; but, preventing quick 560 His foe, the boar gash'd him above the knee.

Much flesh, a.s.sailing him oblique, he tore With his rude tusk, but to the Hero's bone Pierced not; Ulysses _his_ right shoulder reach'd; And with a deadly thrust impell'd the point Of his bright spear through him and far beyond.

Loud yell'd the boar, sank in the dust, and died.

Around Ulysses, then, the busy sons Throng'd of Autolycus; expert they braced The wound of the ill.u.s.trious hunter bold, 570 With incantation staunched the sable blood, And sought in haste their father's house again, Whence, heal'd and gratified with splendid gifts They sent him soon rejoicing to his home, Themselves rejoicing also. Glad their son His parents saw again, and of the scar Enquired, where giv'n, and how? He told them all, How to Parna.s.sus with his friends he went, Sons of Autolycus to hunt, and how A boar had gash'd him with his iv'ry tusk. 580 That scar, while chafing him with open palms, The matron knew; she left his foot to fall; Down dropp'd his leg into the vase; the bra.s.s Rang, and o'ertilted by the sudden shock, Poured forth the water, flooding wide the floor.

_Her_ spirit joy at once and sorrow seized; Tears fill'd her eyes; her intercepted voice Died in her throat; but to Ulysses' beard Her hand advancing, thus, at length, she spake.

Thou art himself, Ulysses. Oh my son! 590 Dear to me, and my master as thou art, I knew thee not, till I had touch'd the scar.

She said, and to Penelope her eyes Directed, all impatient to declare Her own Ulysses even then at home.

But she, nor eye nor ear for aught that pa.s.s'd Had then, her fixt attention so entire Minerva had engaged. Then, darting forth His arms, the Hero with his right-hand close Compress'd her throat, and nearer to himself 600 Drawing her with his left, thus caution'd her.

Why would'st thou ruin me? Thou gav'st me milk Thyself from thy own breast. See me return'd After long suff'rings, in the twentieth year, To my own land. But since (some G.o.d the thought Suggesting to thee) thou hast learn'd the truth, Silence! lest others learn it from thy lips.

For this I say, nor shall the threat be vain; If G.o.d vouchsafe to me to overcome The haughty suitors, when I shall inflict 610 Death on the other women of my house, Although my nurse, thyself shalt also die.

Him answer'd Euryclea then, discrete.

My son! oh how could so severe a word Escape thy lips? my fort.i.tude of mind Thou know'st, and even now shalt prove me firm As iron, secret as the stubborn rock.

But hear and mark me well. Should'st thou prevail, a.s.sisted by a Pow'r divine, to slay The haughty suitors, I will then, myself, 620 Give thee to know of all the female train Who have dishonour'd thee, and who respect.

To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.

My nurse, it were superfluous; spare thy tongue That needless task. I can distinguish well Myself, between them, and shall know them all; But hold thy peace. Hush! leave it with the G.o.ds.

So he; then went the ancient matron forth, That she might serve him with a second bath, For the whole first was spilt. Thus, laved at length, 630 And smooth'd with oil, Ulysses nearer pull'd His seat toward the glowing hearth to enjoy More warmth, and drew his tatters o'er the scar.

Then, prudent, thus Penelope began.

One question, stranger, I shall yet propound, Though brief, for soon the hour of soft repose Grateful to all, and even to the sad Whom gentle sleep forsakes not, will arrive.

But heav'n to me immeasurable woe a.s.signs,--whose sole delight is to consume 640 My days in sighs, while here retired I sit, Watching my maidens' labours and my own; But (night return'd, and all to bed retired) I press mine also, yet with deep regret And anguish lacerated, even there.

As when at spring's first entrance, her sweet song The azure-crested nightingale renews, Daughter of Pandarus; within the grove's Thick foliage perch'd, she pours her echoing voice Now deep, now clear, still varying the strain 650 With which she mourns her Itylus, her son By royal Zethus, whom she, erring, slew,[85]

So also I, by soul-distressing doubts Toss'd ever, muse if I shall here remain A faithful guardian of my son's affairs, My husband's bed respecting, and not less My own fair fame, or whether I shall him Of all my suitors follow to his home Who n.o.blest seems, and offers richest dow'r.

My son while he was infant yet, and own'd 660 An infant's mind, could never give consent That I should wed and leave him; but at length, Since he hath reached the stature of a man, He wishes my departure hence, the waste Viewing indignant by the suitors made.

But I have dream'd. Hear, and expound my dream.

My geese are twenty, which within my walls I feed with sodden wheat; they serve to amuse Sometimes my sorrow. From the mountains came An eagle, huge, hook-beak'd, brake all their necks, 670 And slew them; scatter'd on the palace-floor They lay, and he soar'd swift into the skies.

Dream only as it was, I wept aloud, Till all my maidens, gather'd by my voice, Arriving, found me weeping still, and still Complaining, that the eagle had at once Slain all my geese. But, to the palace-roof Stooping again, he sat, and with a voice Of human sound, forbad my tears, and said-- Courage! O daughter of the far-renown'd 680 Icarius! no vain dream thou hast beheld, But, in thy sleep, a truth. The slaughter'd geese Denote thy suitors. I who have appear'd An eagle in thy sight, am yet indeed Thy husband, who have now, at last, return'd, Death, horrid death designing for them all.

He said; then waking at the voice, I cast An anxious look around, and saw my geese Beside their tray, all feeding as before.

Her then Ulysses answer'd, ever-wise. 690 O Queen! it is not possible to miss Thy dream's plain import, since Ulysses' self Hath told thee the event; thy suitors all Must perish; not one suitor shall escape.

To whom Penelope discrete replied.

Dreams are inexplicable, O my guest!

And oft-times mere delusions that receive No just accomplishment. There are two gates Through which the fleeting phantoms pa.s.s; of horn Is one, and one of ivory.[86] Such dreams 700 As through the thin-leaf'd iv'ry portal come Sooth, but perform not, utt'ring empty sounds; But such as through the polish'd horn escape, If, haply seen by any mortal eye, Prove faithful witnesses, and are fulfill'd.

But through those gates my wond'rous dream, I think, Came not; thrice welcome were it else to me And to my son. Now mark my words; attend.

This is the hated morn that from the house Removes me of Ulysses. I shall fix, 710 This day, the rings for trial to them all Of archership; Ulysses' custom was To plant twelve spikes, all regular arranged[87]

Like galley-props, and crested with a ring, Then standing far remote, true in his aim He with his whizzing shaft would thrid them all.

This is the contest in which now I mean To prove the suitors; him, who with most ease Shall bend the bow, and shoot through all the rings, I follow, this dear mansion of my youth 720 Leaving, so fair, so fill'd with ev'ry good, Though still to love it even in my dreams.

Her answer'd then Ulysses, ever-wise.

Consort revered of Laertiades!

Postpone not this contention, but appoint Forthwith the trial; for Ulysses here Will sure arrive, ere they, (his polish'd bow Long tamp'ring) shall prevail to stretch the nerve, And speed the arrow through the iron rings.

To whom Penelope replied discrete. 730 Would'st thou with thy sweet converse, O my guest!

Here sooth me still, sleep ne'er should influence These eyes the while; but always to resist Sleep's pow'r is not for man, to whom the G.o.ds Each circ.u.mstance of his condition here Fix universally. Myself will seek My own apartment at the palace-top, And there will lay me down on my sad couch, For such it hath been, and with tears of mine Ceaseless bedew'd, e'er since Ulysses went 740 To that bad city, never to be named.

There will I sleep; but sleep thou here below, Either, thyself, preparing on the ground Thy couch, or on a couch by these prepared.

So saying, she to her splendid chamber thence Retired, not sole, but by her female train Attended; there arrived, she wept her spouse, Her lov'd Ulysses, till Minerva dropp'd The balm of slumber on her weary lids.

FOOTNOTES:

[82] A gaberdine is a s.h.a.ggy cloak of coa.r.s.e but warm materials. Such always make part of Homer's bed-furniture.

[83] Homer's morals seem to allow to a good man dissimulation, and even an ambiguous oath, should they be necessary to save him from a villain.

Thus in Book XX. Telemachus swears by Zeus, that he does not hinder his mother from marrying whom she pleases of the wooers, though at the same time he is plotting their destruction with his father. F.

[84] In the Greek ???SS??S from the verb ?d?ss?--Irascor, _I am angry_.

[85] She intended to slay the son of her husband's brother Amphion, incited to it by the envy of his wife, who had six children, while herself had only two, but through mistake she slew her own son Itylus, and for her punishment was transformed by Jupiter into a nightingale.

[86] The difference of the two substances may perhaps serve to account for the preference given in this case to the gate of horn; horn being transparent, and as such emblematical of truth, while ivory, from its whiteness, promises light, but is, in fact, opaque. F.

[87] The translation here is somewhat pleonastic for the sake of perspicuity; the original is clear in itself, but not to us who have no such practice. Twelve stakes were fixt in the earth, each having a ring at the top; the order in which they stood was so exact, that an arrow sent with an even hand through the first ring, would pa.s.s them all.

BOOK XX

ARGUMENT

Ulysses, doubting whether he shall destroy or not the women servants who commit lewdness with the suitors, resolves at length to spare them for the present. He asks an omen from Jupiter, and that he would grant him also to hear some propitious words from the lips of one in the family.

His pet.i.tions are both answered. Preparation is made for the feast.

Whilst the suitors sit at table, Pallas smites them with a horrid frenzy.

Theoclymenus, observing the strange effects of it, prophesies their destruction, and they deride his prophecy.

But in the vestibule the Hero lay On a bull's-hide undress'd, o'er which he spread The fleece of many a sheep slain by the Greeks, And, cover'd by the household's governess With a wide cloak, composed himself to rest.

Yet slept he not, but meditating lay Woe to his enemies. Meantime, the train Of women, wonted to the suitors' arms, Issuing all mirth and laughter, in his soul A tempest raised of doubts, whether at once 10 To slay, or to permit them yet to give Their l.u.s.ty paramours one last embrace.

As growls the mastiff standing on the start For battle, if a stranger's foot approach Her cubs new-whelp'd--so growl'd Ulysses' heart, While wonder fill'd him at their impious deeds.

But, smiting on his breast, thus he reproved The mutinous inhabitant within.

Heart! bear it. Worse than this thou didst endure When, uncontroulable by force of man, 20 The Cyclops thy ill.u.s.trious friends devour'd.

Thy patience then fail'd not, till prudence found Deliv'rance for thee on the brink of fate.

So disciplined the Hero his own heart, Which, tractable, endured the rigorous curb, And patient; yet he turn'd from side to side.

As when some hungry swain turns oft a maw Unctuous and sav'ry on the burning coals, Quick expediting his desired repast, So he from side to side roll'd, pond'ring deep 30 How likeliest with success he might a.s.sail Those shameless suitors; one to many opposed.

Then, sudden from the skies descending, came Minerva in a female form; her stand Above his head she took, and thus she spake.

Why sleep'st thou not, unhappiest of mankind?

Thou art at home; here dwells thy wife, and here Thy son; a son, whom all might wish their own.

Then her Ulysses answer'd, ever-wise.

O G.o.ddess! true is all that thou hast said, 40 But, not without anxiety, I muse How, single as I am, I shall a.s.sail Those shameless suitors who frequent my courts Daily; and always their whole mult.i.tude.

This weightier theme I meditate beside; Should I, with Jove's concurrence and with thine Prevail to slay them, how shall I escape, Myself, at last?[88] oh G.o.ddess, weigh it well.

Him answer'd then Pallas caerulean-eyed.

Oh faithless man! a man will in his friend 50 Confide, though mortal, and in valour less And wisdom than himself; but I who keep Thee in all difficulties, am divine.

I tell thee plainly. Were we hemm'd around By fifty troops of shouting warriors bent To slay thee, thou should'st yet securely drive The flocks away and cattle of them all.

But yield to sleep's soft influence; for to lie All night thus watchful, is, itself, distress.

Fear not. Deliv'rance waits, not far remote. 60 So saying, she o'er Ulysses' eyes diffused Soft slumbers, and when sleep that sooths the mind And nerves the limbs afresh had seized him once, To the Olympian summit swift return'd.

But his chaste spouse awoke; she weeping sat On her soft couch, and, n.o.blest of her s.e.x, Satiate at length with tears, her pray'r address'd First to Diana of the Pow'rs above.

Diana, awful progeny of Jove!

I would that with a shaft this moment sped 70 Into my bosom, thou would'st here conclude My mournful life! or, oh that, as it flies, s.n.a.t.c.hing me through the pathless air, a storm Would whelm me deep in Ocean's restless tide!