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Behold! where Neritus the clouds divides,
And shakes the waving forests on his sides."

So spake the goddess; and the prospect clear'd,
The mists dispers'd, and all the coast appear'd.
The king with joy confess'd his place of birth,
And on his knees salutes his mother Earth:
Then, with his suppliant hands upheld in air,
Thus to the sea-green sisters sends his prayer:
"All hail! ye virgin-daughters of the main!
Ye streams, beyond my hopes beheld again!
To you once more your own Ulysses bows;
Attend his transports, and receive his vows!
If Jove prolong my days, and Pallas crown
The growing virtues of my youthful son,
To you shall rites divine be ever paid,
And grateful offerings on your altars laid."

Then thus Minerva: “From that anxious breast Dismiss those cares, and leave to Heaven the rest. Our task be now thy treasur'd stores to save, Deep in the close recesses of the cave: Then future means consult"-She spoke, and trod The shady grot, that brighten'd with the god. The closest caverns of the grot she sought; The gold, the brass, the robes, Ulysses brought; These in the secret gloom the chief dispos'd, The entrance with a rock the goddess clos'd. Now, seated in the olive's sacred shade, Confer the hero and the martial maid. The goddess of the azure eyes began: "Son of Laertes! much experienc'd man! The suitor-train thy earliest care demand, Of that luxurious race to rid the land: Three years thy house their lawless rule has seen, And proud addresses to the matchless queen. But she thy absence mourns from day to day, And inly bleeds, and silent wastes away: Elusive of the bridal hour, she gives Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives." To this Ulysses: "O, celestial maid! Prais'd be thy counsel, and thy timely aid: Else had I seen my native walls in vain, Like great Atrides just restor'd and slain. Vouchsafe the means of vengeance to debate, And plan with all thy arts the scene of fate. Then, then be present, and my soul inspire, As when we wrapp'd Troy's heaven-built walls in

fire.

Though leagu'd against me hundred heroes stand, Hundreds shall fall, if Pallas aid my hand.'

She answer'd: "In the dreadful day of fight Know, I am with thee, strong in all my might. If thou but equal to thyself be found, What gasping numbers then shall press the

ground!

What human victims stain the feastful floor!
How wide the pavements float with guilty gore!
It fits thee now to wear a dark disguise,
And secret walk unknown to mortal eyes.
For this, my hand shall wither every grace,
And every elegance of form and face,

O'er thy smooth skin a bark of wrinkles spread,
Turn hoar the auburn honours of thy head,
Disfigure every limb with coarse attire,
And in thy eyes extinguish all the fire;
Add all the wants and the decays of life;
Estrange thee from thy own; thy son, thy wife;
From the loath'd object every sight shall turn,
And the blind suitors their destruction scorn.

"Go first the master of thy herds to find, True to his charge, a loyal swain and kind :

For thee he sighs; and to the royal heir
And chaste Penelope extends his care.
At the Coracian rock he now resides,
Where Arethusa's sable water glides;
The sable water and the copious mast
Swell the fat herd; luxuriant, large repast
!
With him, rest peaceful in the rural cell,
And all you ask his faithful tongue shall tell.
Me into other realms my cares convey,
To Sparta, still with female beauty gay:
For know, to Sparta thy lov'd offspring came,
To learn thy fortunes from the voice of Fame."
At this the father, with a father's care:
"Must he too suffer? he, O goddess! bear
Of wanderings and of woes a wretched share?
Thro' the wild ocean plough the dangerous way,
And leave his fortunes and his house a prey?
Why would'st not thou, O all-enlighten'd mind!
Inform him certain, and protect him, kind:”

To whom Minerva: "Be thy soul at rest;
And know, whatever Heaven ordains, is best.
To Fame I sent him, to acquire renown:
To other regions is his virtue known:
Secure he sits, near great Atrids plac'd;
With friendships strengthened, and with honours
grac'd.

But lo! an ambush waits his passage o'er;
Fierce foes insidious intercept the shore:

In vain for sooner all the murtherous brood
This injur'd land shall fatten with their blood."
She spake, then touch'd him with her powerful
wand:

The skin shrunk up, and wither'd at her hand:
A swift old age o'er all his members spread;
A sudden frost was sprinkled on his head;
Nor longer in the heavy eye-ball shin'd
The glance divine, forth-beaming from the mind.
His robe, which spots indelible besmear,
In rags dishonest flutters with the air:

A stag's torn hide is lapp'd around his reins;
A rugged staff his trembling hand sustains;
And at his side a wretched scrip was hung,
Wide-patch'd, and knotted to a twisted thong.
So look'd the chief, so mov'd, to mortal eyes
Object uncouth! a man of miseries!
While Pallas, cleaving the wide field of air,
To Sparta flies, Telemachus her care.

THE ODYSSEY.

BOOK XIV.

ARGUMENT.

THE CONVERSATION WITH EUMÆUS.

ULYSSES arrives in disguise at the house of Eumæus, where he is received, entertained, and lodged, with the utmost hospitality. The several discourses of that faithful old servant, with the feigned story told by Ulysses to conceal himself, and other conversations on various subjects, take up this entire book.

But he, deep musing, o'er the mountains stray'd Through mazy thickets of the woodland shade,

And cavern'd ways the shaggy coast along,
With cliffs and nodding forest over-hung.
Eumans at his sylvan lodge he sought,
A faithful servant, and without a fault.
Ulysses found him busied, as he sate
Before the threshold of his rustic gate;
Around the mansion in a circle shone
A rural portico of rugged stone

(In absence of his lord, with honest toil
His own industrious hands had rais'd the pile).
The wall was stone from neighbouring quarries
Encircled with a fence of native thorn, [borne,
And strong with pales, by many a weary stroke
Of stubborn labour hewn from heart of oak;
Frequent and thick. Within the space were rear'd
Twelve ample cells, the lodgment of his herd.
Full fifty pregnant females cach contain'd;
The males without (a smaller race) remain'd;
Doom'd to supply the suitor's wasteful feast,
A flock by daily luxury decreas'd !
Now scarce four hundred left. These to defend,
Four savage dogs, a watchful guard, attend.
Here sate Eumæus, and his cares apply'd
To form strong buskins of well-season'd hide,
Of four assistants who his labour share,
Three now were absent on the rural care;
The fourth drove victims to the suitor train:
But he, of ancient faith, a simple swain,
Sigh'd, while he furnish'd the luxurious hoard,
And weary'd Heaven with wishes for his lord.

Soon as Ulysses near the enclosure drew,
With open mouths the furious mastiffs flew :
Down sate the sage, and cautious to withstand,
Let fall th' offensive truncheon from his hand.
Sudden, the master runs ; aloud he calls;
And from his hasty hand the leather falls;
With showers of stones he drives them far away;
The scattering dogs around at distance bay.

"Unhappy stranger!" (thus the faithful swain Began with accent gracious and humane) "What sorrow had been mine, if at my gate Thy reverend age had met a shameful fate! Enough of woes already have I known; Enough my master's sorrows and my own. While here (ungrateful task !) hiş herds I feed, Ordain'd for lawless rioters to bleed; Perhaps, supported at another's board, Far from his country roams my hapless lord! Or sigh'd in exile forth his latest breath, Now cover'd with th' eternal shade of death!

"But enter this my homely roof, and see Our woods not void of hospitality.

Then tell me whence thou art? and what the share
Of woes and wanderings thou wert born to bear?”
He said, and, seconding the kind request,
With friendly step precedes his unknown guest.
A shaggy goat's soft hide beneath him spread,
And with fresh rushes heap'd an ample bed
Joy touch'd the hero's tender soul, to find
So just reception from a heart so kind:

And oh, ye gods! with all your blessings grace" (He thus broke forth) "this friend of human race!"

The swain reply'd: "It never was our guise To slight the poor, or aught humane despise ; For Jove unfolds our hospitable door,

Tis Jove that sends the stranger and the poor. Lattle, alas! is all the good I can;

A man oppress'd, dependant, yet a man: Accept such treatment as a swain affords, lave to the insolence of youthful lords!

Far hence is by unequal gods remov'd
That man of bounties, loving and belov'd!
To whom whate'er his slave enjoys is ow'd,
And more, had fate allow'd, had been bestow' a
But fate condemns him to a foreign shore;
Much have I sorrow'd, but my master more,
Now cold he lies, to death's embrace resign'd:
Ah, perish Helen! perish all her kind!
For whose curs'd cause, in Agamemnon's name,
He trod so fatally the pathe of fame.

"His vest succinct then girding round his

waist,

Forth rush'd the swain with hospitable haste,
Straight to the lodgments of his herd he run,
Where the fat porkers slept beneath the Suu;
Of two his cutlass lanch'd the spouting blood;
These quarter'd, sing'd, and fix'd on forks of
All hasty on the hissing coals he threw; [wood,
And smoking back the tasteful viands drew,
Broachers and all; then on the board display'd
The ready meal, before Ulysses laid
With flour imbrown'd; next mingled wine yet new,
And luscious as the bees' nectareous dew:
Then sate companion of the friendly feast,
With open look; and thus bespoke his guest:
"Take, with free welcome, what our hands

prepare,

Such food as falis to simple servants' share;
The best our lords consume; those thoughtless
Rich without bounty, guilty without fears! [peers,
Yet sure the gods their impious acts detest,
And honour justice and the righteous breast.
Pirates and conquerors, of harden'd mind,
The foes of peace, and scourges of mankind,
To whom offending men are made a prey
When Jove in vengeance gives a land away;
Even these, when of their ill-got spoils possess'd,
Find sure tormentors in the guilty breast:
Some voice of god close whispering from within,
'Wretch! this is villainy, and this is sin.'
But these, no doubt, some oracle explore,
That tells, the great Ulysses is no more.

"Hence springs their confidence, and from
our sighs

Their rapine strengthens, and their riots rise:
Constant as Jove the night and day bestows,
Bleeds a whole hecatomb, a vintage flows.
None match'd this hero's wealth, of all who reign
O'er the fair islands of the neighbouring main.
Nor all the monarchs whose far-dreaded sway
The wide extended continents obey:
First, on the main land, of Ulysses' breed
Twelve herds, twelve Locks, on ocean's margin feed;
As many stalls for shaggy goats are rear'd;
As many lodgments for the tusky herd;
Those foreign keepers guard: and here are seen
Twelve herds of goats that grace our utmost green;
To native pastors in their charge assign'd;
And mine the care to feed the bristly kind:
Each day the fattest bleeds of either herd,
All to the suitors' wasteful board preferr'd."

Thus he, benevolent: his unknown guest
With hunger keen devours the savoury feast;
While schemes of vengeance ripen in his breast.
Silent and thoughtful while the board he ey'd,
Eumæus pours on high the purple tide;
The king with smiling looks his joy express'd,
And thus the kind inviting host address'd:

"Say now, what man is he, the man, deplor'd So rich, so potent, whom you style your lord;

Late with such affluence and possessions blest,
And now in honour's glorious bed at rest?
Whoever was the warrior, he must be
To fame no stranger, nor perhaps to me;
Who (so the gods, and so the fates ordain'd)
Have wander'd many a sea, and many a land.”
"Small is the faith, the prince and queen ascribe"
(Reply'd Eumæus) "to the wandering tribe.
For needy strangers still to flattery fly,
And want too oft betrays the tongue to lye.
Each vagrant traveller that touches here,
Deludes with fallacies the royal ear,
To dear remembrance makes his image rise,
And calls the springing sorrows from her eyes.
Such thou may'st be. But he whose name you
Moulders in earth, or welters on the wave,
Or food for fish or dogs his reliques lie,
Or torn by birds are scatter'd through the sky.
So perish'd he and left (for ever lost)
Much woe to all but sure to me the most.
So mild a master never shall I find ;
Less dear the parents whom I left behind,
Less soft my mother, less my father kind.
Not with such transport would my eyes run o'er,
Again to hail them in their native shore;
As lov'd Ulysses once more to embrace,
Restor'd and breathing in his natal place.
That name for ever dread, yet ever dear,
Even in his absence I pronounce with fear:
In my respect, he bears a prince's part;
But lives a very brother in my heart."

[crave

Thus spoke the faithful swain; and thus rejoin'd
The master of his grief, the man of patient mind:
"Ulysses, friend! shall view his old abodes
(Distrustful as thou art ;) nor doubt the gods.
Nor speak I rashly, but with faith averr'd,
And what I speak, attesting Heaven has heard.
If so, a cloke and vesture be my meed;
Till his return, no title shall I plead,
Though certain be my news, and great my need.
Whom want itself can force untruths to tell,
My soul detests him as the gates of Hell."

"Thou first be witness, hospitable Jove!
And every god inspiring social love;
And witness every household power that waits
Guards of these fires, and angel of these gates!
Ere the next Moon increase or this decay,
His ancient realms Ulysses shall survey,
In blood and dust each proud oppressor mourn,
And the lost glories of his house return."

"Nor shall that meed be thine, nor ever more
Shall lov'd Ulysses hail this happy shore"
(Replied Eumæus). "To the present hour
Now turn the thoughts, and.vs within our power.
From sad reflection let my soul repose ;
The name of him awakes a thousand, woes.
But guard him, gods and to these arms restore !
Not his true consort can desire him more;
Not old Laertes, broken with despair;
Not young Telemachus, his blooming heir.
Alas, Telemachus! my sorrows flow
Afresh for thee, my second cause of woe!
Like some fair plant set by a heavenly hand,
He grew, he flourish'd, and he blest the land;
In all the youth his father's image shin'd,
Bright in his person, brighter in his mind.
What man, or god, deceiv'd his better sense,
Far on the swelling seas to wander hence ?
To distant Pylos hapless is he gone,
To seek his father's fate, and find his own!

For traitors wait his way, with dire design
To end at once the great Arcesian line.
But let us leave him to their wills above;
The fates of men are in the hand of Jove.
And now, my venerable guest! declare
Your name, your parents, and your native air.
Sincere from whence begun your course relate,
And to what ship I owe the friendly freight?"
Thus he and thus (with prompt invention bold)
The cautious chief his ready story told:

"On dark reserve what better can prevail,
Or from the fluent tongue produce the tale,
Than when two friends, alone, in peaceful place
Confer, and wines and cates the table grace;
But most, the kind inviter's cheerful face?
Thus might we sit, with social goblets crown'd,
Till the whole circle of the year goes round;
Not the whole circle of the year would close
My long narration of a life of woes. [I came
But such was Heaven's high will! Know then,
From sacred Crete, and from a sire of fame :
Castor Hylacides (the name he bore)
Belov'd and honour'd in his native shore ;
Blest in his riches, in his children more.

Sprung from a handmaid, from a bought embrace,
I shar'd his kindness with his lawful race:
But when that fate, which all must undergo,
From Earth remov'd him to the shades below;
The large domain his greedy sons divide,
And each was portion'd as the lots decide.
Little, alas! was left my wretched share,
Except a house, a covert from the air :
But what by niggard fortune was denied,
A willing widow's copious wealth supplied.
My valour was my plea, a gallant mind
That true to honour, never lagg'd behind
(The sex is ever to a soldier kind).

Now wasting years my former strength confound,
And added woes have, bow'd me to the ground;
Yet by the stubble you may guess the grain,
And mark the ruins of no vulgar man.
Me, Pallas gave to lead the martial storm,
And the fair ranks of battle to deform:
Me, Mars inspir'd to turn the foe to flight,
And tempt the secret ambush of the night.
Let ghastly death in all his forms appear,
I saw him not, it was not mine to fear.
Before the rest I rais'd my ready steel;
The first I met, he yielded, or he fell.
But works of peace my soul disdain'd to bear,
The rural labour, or domestic care.

To raise the mast, the missile dart to wing,
And send swift arrows from the bounding string,
Were arts the gods made grateful to my mind;
Those gods, who turn (to various ends design'd)
The various thoughts and talents of mankind.
Before the Grecians touch'd the Trojan plain,
Nine times commander or by land or main,
In foreign fields I spread my glory far,
Great in the praise, rich in the spoils of war:
Thence charg'd with riches, as increas'd in fame,
To Crete return'd, an honourable name.
But when great Jove that direful war decreed,
Which rous'd all Greece, and made the mighty
Our states myself and Idomen employ
[bleed;
To lead their fleets, and carry death to Troy.
Nine years we warr'd; the tenth saw llion fall;
Homeward we sail'd, but Heaven dispers'd us all.
One only month my wife enjoy'd my stay;
So will'd the god who gives and takes away.

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Six days consum'd; the seventh we plough'd the
Crete's ample fields diminish to our eye;
Before the Boreal blasts the vessels fly;
Safe through the level seas we sweep our way:
The steer-man governs, and the ships obey.
The fifth fair morn we stem th' Egyptian tide:
And tilting o'er the bay the vessels ride :
To anchor there my fellows I command,
And spies commission to explore the land.

But, sway'd by lust of gain, and headlong will,
The coasts they ravage, and the natives kill.
The spreading clamour to their city flies,
And horse and foot in mingled tumults rise.
The reddening dawn reveals the circling fields,
Horrid with bristly spears, and glancing shields.
Jove thunder'd on their side. Our guilty head
We turn'd to flight; the gathering vengeance
spread

On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lie dead.
I then explor'd my thought, what course to prove ;
(And sure the thought was dictated by Jove,)
Oh! had he left me to that happier doom,
And sav'd a life of miseries to come!
The radiant helmet from my brows unlac'd
And low on earth my shield and javelin cast,
I met the monarch with a suppliant's face,
Approach his chariot, and his knees embrace.
He hear'd, he sav'd, he plac'd me at his side;
My state he pity'd, and my tears he dried,
Restrain'd the rage the vengeful foe express'd,
And turn'd the deadly weapons from my breast.
Pious! to guard the hospitable rite,

And fearing Jove, whom mercy's works delight.
"In Egypt thus with peace and plenty blest,
I liv'd (and happy still had liv'd) a guest,
On seven bright years successive blessings wait;
The next chang'd all the colour of my fate.
A false Phoenician, of insidious mind,
Vers'd in vile arts, and foe to human kind,
With semblance fair invites me to his home;
I seiz'd the proffer (ever fond to roam)
Domestic in his faithless roof I stay'd,
Till the swift Sun his annual circle made.
To Libya then he meditates the way;
With guileful art a stranger to betray,
And sell to bondage in a foreign land:
Much doubting, yet compell'd, I quit the strand.
Through the mid seas the nimble pinnace sails,
Aloof from Crete, before the northern gales:
But when remote her chalky cliffs we lost,
And far from ken of any other coast,
When all was wild expanse of sea and air;
Then doom'd high Jove due vengeance to prepare,
He hung a night of horrours o'er their head
(The shaded ocean blacken'd as it spread);
He lanch'd the fiery bolt; from pole to pole
Broad burst the lightnings, deep the thunders roll;
In giddy rounds the whirling ship is tost,
And all in clouds of smothering sulphur lost.
As from a hanging rock's tremendous height,
The sable crows with intercepted flight [hue:
Drop headlong: scarr'd and black with sulphurous
So from the deck are hurl'd the ghastly crew.
Such end the wicked found! but Jove's intent
Was yet to save th' oppress'd and innocent.
Plac'd on the mast (the last recourse of life)
With winds and waves I held unequal strife;

For nine long days the billows tilting o'er,
The tenth soft wafts me to Thesprotia's shore.
The monarch's son a shipwreck'd wretch reliev'd,
The sire with hospitable rites receiv'd,
And in his palace like a brother plac'd,
With gifts of price and gorgeous garments grac'd.
While here I sojourn'd, oft I heard the fame
How late Ulysses to the country came,
How lov'd, how honour'd, in this court he stay'd,
And here his whole collected treasure lay'd;
I saw myself the vast unnumber'd store
Of steel elaborate and refulgent ore,
And brass high heap'd amidst the regal dome;
Immense supplies for ages yet to come!
Meantime he voyag'd to explore the will
Of Jove, on high Dodona's holy hill,
What means might best his safe return avail,
To come in pomp, or bear a secret sail?
Full oft has Phidon, whilst he pour'd the wine,
Attesting solemn all the powers divine,
That soon Ulysses would return, declar'd,
The sailors waiting, and the ships prepar'd,
But first the king dismiss'd me from his shores,
For fair Dulichium crown'd with fruitful stores;
To good Acastus' friendly care consign'd:
But other counsels pleas'd the sailor's mind:
New frauds were plotted by the faithless train,
And misery demands me once again.

Soon as remote from shore they plough the wave,
With ready hands they rush to seize their slave;
Then with these tatter'd rags they wrapp'd me
round,

(Stripp'd of my own) and to the vessel bound.
At eve, at Ithaca's delightful land

The ship arriv'd: forth issuing on the land
They sought repast; while to th' unhappy kind,
The pitying gods themselves my chains unbind.
Soft I descended, to the sea applied
My naked breast, and shot along the tide.
Soon past beyond their sight, I left the flood,
And took the spreading shelter of the wood.
Their prize escap'd the faithless pirates mourn'd;
But deem'd enquiry vain, and to their ship return'd.
Screen'd by protecting gods from hostile eyes,
They led me to a good man and a wise,
To live beneath thy hospitable care,
And wait the woes Heaven dooms me yet to bear."
"Unhappy guest! whose sorrows touch mymind!"
(Thus good Eumæus with a sigh rejoin'd)
"For real sufferings since I grieve sincere,
Check not with fallacies the springing tear;
Nor turn the passion into groundless joy
For him, whom Heaven has destin'd to destroy.
Oh! had he perish'd on some well-fought day,
Or in his friend's embraces died away!
That grateful Greece with streaming eyes might

raise

Historic marbles, to record his praise:
His praise, eternal on the faithful stone,
Had with transmissive honours grac'd his son.
Now snatch'd by harpies to the dreary coast,
Sunk is the hero, and his glory lost!
While pensive in this solitary den,
Far from gay cities and the ways of men,
I linger life; nor to the court repair,
But when the constant queen commands my care;
Or when, to taste her hospitable board,
Some guest arrives, with rumours of her lord;
And these indulge their want, and those their woe,
And here the tears, and there the goblets flow.

By many such I have been warn'd; but chief
By one Etolian robb'd of all belief,
Whose hap it was to this our roof to roam,
For murder banish'd from his native home,
He swore, Ulysses on the coast of Crete
Staid but a season to refit his fleet;

A few revolving months should waft him o'er,
Fraught with bold warriors, and a boundless store.
O thou! whom age has taught to understand,
And Heaven has guided with a favouring hand!
On god or mortal to obtrude a lie
Forbear, and dread to flatter as to die.
Not for such ends my house and heart are free,
But dear respect to Jove and charity."

"And why, O swain, of unbelieving mind!" (Thus quick reply'd the wisest of mankind)

Doubt you my oath? yet more my faith to try, A solemn compact let us ratify,

And witness every power that rules the sky!
If here Ulysses from his labours rest,

[mine"

Be then my prize a tunic and a vest;
And, where my hopes invite me, straight transport
In safety to Dulichium's friendly court.
But, if he greets not thy desiring eye,
Hurl me from yon dread precipice on high;
The due reward of fraud and perjury."
"Doubtless, O guest! great laud and praise were
(Reply'd the swain for spotless faith divine)
"If, after social rites and gifts bestow'd,
I stain'd my hospitable hearth with blood,
How would the gods my righteous toils succeed,
And bless the hand that made a stranger bleed?
No more th' approaching hours of silent night
First claim reflection, then to rest invite ;
Beneath our humble cottage let us haste,
And here, unenvy'd, rural dainties taste."

Thus commun'd these; while to their lowly dome

The full-fed swine return'd with evening home;
Compell'd, reluctant, to the several sties,
With din obstreperous, and ungrateful cries.
Then to the slaves-" Now from the herd the best
Select, in honour of our foreign guest:
With him let us the genial banquet share,
For great and many are the griefs we bear:
While those who from our labours heap their board,
Blaspheme their feeder, and forget their lord."
"Thus speaking, with dispatchful hand he took
A weighty ax, and cleft the solid oak;
This on the earth he pil'd; a boar full fed,
Of five years age, before the pile was led :
The swain, whom acts of piety delight,
Observant of the gods, begins the rite;
First shears the forehead of the bristly boar,
And suppliant stands, invoking every power
To speed Ulysses to his native shore.
A knotty stake then aiming at his head,
Down dropt he groaning, and the spirit filed.
The scorching flames climb round on every side:
Then the sing'd members they with skill divide;
On these, in rolls of fat involv'd with art,
The choicest morsels lay from every part. [threw:
Some in the flames, bestrow'd with flour, they
Some cut in fragments, from the forks they drew;
These while on several tables they dispose,
As priest himself the blameless rustic rose;
Expert the destin'd victim to dis-part

In seyen just portions, pure of hand and heart.
Que sacred to the nymphs apart they lay;
Another to the winged son of May:...

The rural tribe in common share the rest,
The king the chine, the honour of the feast,
Who sate delighted at his servant's board;
The faithful servant joy'd his unknown lord.
"Oh! be thou dear (Ulysses cry'd) to Jove,
As well thou claim'st a grateful stranger's love!"

"Be then thy thanks" (the bounteous swain re-
"Enjoyment of the good the gods provide. [ply'd)
From God's own hand descend our joys and woes;
These he decrees, and he but suffers those :
All power is his, and whatsoe'er he wills,
The will itself, omnipotent, fulfils."
This said, the first-fruits to the gods he gave;
Then pour'd of offer'd wine the sable wave:
In great Ulysses' hand he plac'd the bowl,.
He sate, and sweet refection cheer'd his soul.
The bread from cannisters Mesaulius gave,
(Eumæus' proper treasure bought this slave,
And led from Taphos, to attend his board,
A servant added to his absent lord)
His task it was the wheaten loaves to lay,
And from the banquet take the bowls away.
And now the rage of hunger was repress'd,
And each betakes him to his couch to rest.
Now came the night, and darkness cover'd o'er
The face of things; the winds began to roar:
The driving storm the watery west-wind pours,
And Jove descends in deluges of showers.
Studious of rest and warmth, Ulysses lies,
Foreseeing from the first the storm would rise;
In mere necessity of coat and cloak,
With artful preface to his host he spoke: [grace
"Hear me, my friends who this good banquet
'Tis sweet to play the fool in time and place,
And wine can of their wits the wise beguile,
Make the sage frolic, and the serious sinile,
The grave in merry measures frisk about,
And many a long-repented word bring out.
Since to be talkative I now commence,

Let wit cast off the sullen yoke of sense. [days!)
Once I was strong (would Heaven restore those
And with my betters claim'd my share of praise.
Ulysses, Menelaus, led forth a band, [mand;)
And join'd me with them ('twas their own com
A deathful ambush for the foe to lay,
Beneath Troy's walls by night we took our way:
There clad in arms, along the marshes spread,
We made the osier-fringed hank our bed,
Full soon th' inclemency of Heaven I feel,
Nor had these shoulders covering but of steel,
Sharp blew the north; snow whitening all the fields
Froze with the blast, and gathering glaz'd our

shields.

There all but I, well fenc'd with cloak and vest,
Lay cover'd by their ample shields at rest.
Fool that I was! I left behind my own;
The skill of weather and of winds unknown,
And trusted to my coat and shield alone!
When now was wasted more than half the night,
And the stars faded at approaching light;
Sudden I jogg'd Ulysses, who was laid
Fast by my side, and shivering thus I said:
"Here longer in this field I cannot lie;
The winter pinches, and with cold I die,
And die asham'd (O wisest of mankind)
The only fool who left his cloak behind.'

"He thought, and answer'd: hardly waking yet, Sprung in his mind the momentary wit (That wit, which or in council, or in fight, Still met th' emergence, and determin'd right.)

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