The Iliads and Odysses of Homer translated out of Greek into English by Tho. Hobbes of Malmsbury ; with a large preface concerning the vertues of an heroick poem, written by the translator.

HOM. ODYSS.

LIB. I.

TEll me, O Muse, th'Adventures of the Man That having sack'd the sacred Town of Troy, Wandred so long at Sea; what course he ran By winds & tempests driven from his way: That saw the Cities, and the fashions knew Of many men, but suffer'd grievous pain To save his own life, and bring home his crew. Though for his Crew, all he could do was vain. They lost themselves by their own insolence, Feeding, like fools, on the Suns sacred Kine. Which did the splendid Deity incense To their dire fate. Begin, O Muse divine. The Greeks from Troy were all returned home, All that the War and winds had spar'd, except The discontent Ulysses onely; whom In hollow Caves the Nymph Calypso kept. But when the years and days were come about, Wherein was woven his return by fate To Ithaca, (but neither there without Great pain) the Gods then pitied his estate, All saving Neptune, who did never cease To hinder him from reaching his own shore, And persecute him still upon the Seas Till he got home. Then troubled him no more. Neptune was now far off in Black moor land (The Black-moors are the utmost of Mankind, As far as East and West asunder stand, So far the Black-moors borders are disjoyn'd.)

Invited there to feast on Ram and Bull. There sat he merry. Th'other Gods were then Met on Olympus in a Synod full, In th'house of Jove, Father of Gods and Men. And first spake Jove, whose thoughts were now upon Aegistus death, which he but then first knew, By th'hand of Agamemnon's valiant Son, Who to revenge his Fathers blood him slew. Ha! How dare mortals tax the Gods, and say, Their harms do all proceed from our Dec••ee, And by our setting; when by their crimes they Against our wills make their own destiny? As now Aegistus did Atrides kill Newly come home; and married his wife; Although he knew it was against my will, And that it would cost him one day his lif••. Sent we not Hermes to him to forbid The murder, and the marriage of the wise, And tell him if the contrary he did Orestes should revenge it on his life? All this said Hermes, as we bad him. But Aegistus, for all this, was not afraid His lust in execution to put. And therefore now his dearly for it paid, Then Pallas moved on Ulysses part, And said, O Father Jove, the King of Kings, Aegistus fate was fit for his desert, So let them perish all that do such things. 'Tis for Ulysses that I live in pain, Poor man, long absent from his friends, forlorn. In a small Isle, the Centre of the Main; Kept from his home doth nought but grieve and mourn. The Isle is beautifi'd with goodly trees. And in it dwel's a Nymph. Her Fathers name Atlas, that all the depths of th'Ocean sees, And beare••h up the Pillars of the same, And Heaven and Earth to boot. His Daughter 'tis That with fair words and gentle courtesie Detains Ulysses. And her meaning is For ever there to have his company.

Whilst he, alas! even dies for very grief. To see the smoak of Ithaca he wishes, And would take that for some, though small relief. And yet you are not mov'd. Were not Ulysses His Sacrifices on the Trojan shore Both free and bountiful? They were, you know, In th'Argive Camp, I dare say, no mans more. Why therefore, Father, should you hate him so? To her, the mighty Jove made this reply. Child, what a word is this that you let fall? Do I neglect Ulysses, or do I Ulysses hate, that amongst mortals all For wisdom and for piety excels? Neptune that backs and shakes the earth, 'tis he Whose breast with anger and revenge still swells Against him, for his Sons calamity, The Godlike Polypheme, Cyclops the great, Whom on Thoosa, Phorcys Daughter brave Neptune the King of Waters did beget, Embracing her within a hollow cave; And him Ulysses has depriv'd of sight. For which, though Neptune do not him destroy, He crosses him with dangers day and night, And drives him up and down our of his way. But well, let ūs that are assembled now Bethink us how to bring him home. 'Tis odds 'Twill cool his rage. He has not strength enough T'oppose the power of all the other Gods. Then Pallas said, O Jove, of Kings the Kings, Since the blest Gods have thought good, and de∣creed Ulysses to his native soil to bring, Let's Hermes send unto the Nymph with speed, In th'Isle Ogygia, to let her know Our sentence, that she may the same obey. And I to Ithaca mean while will go. And cause his Son to call without delay The Common Councel; and to make him bold, To warn his Mothers Suiters to be gone, And feast no longer on his Herd and Fold, As they before had insolently done.

To Sparta too, I'll send him, and to Pyle T'enquire about his Fathers Navigation, That in the world by travel for a while He may acquire a greater reputation. This said, upon her seet her shooes she bind, Ambrosian golden shooes, that do her bear On land and water swiftly as the winds. And takes in hand her brazen-headed Spear; A heavy, massie, and strong Spear, the same Wherewith, when angry, she the armed bands Of mighty men of War does eas'ly tame. That was the Spear she carried in her hands. Then from the high Olympus leapt she down T'Ulysses house, and stood in the Hall-door I'th' shape of Mentes that possest the Crown O'th' Taphian people, whom he reigned or. And thence beheld the Suiters in the Court Sitting upon the hides of beeves, which they Themselves had kill'd, and wanting other sport, Playing at Chess they pass'd their time away. Mean while their Officers and Serving-men Were busie mingling water with the wine, Others the meat divide, others make clean, Set up and rub the Tables till they shine. Telemachus now with the Suiters sate Fancying, in case his Father should appear, Brought home by th'Gods or by some lucky fate, How then these knaves would slink away for fear; And he again recover his estate, And in his own land rule without a Peer. He was the first that spi'd the Goddess, and Then presently he hast'ned to the door; Receives her Spear and takes her by the hand, And both co in, she after, he before. You shall (said he) stranger be welcome here: But first let's sup, and afterwards wee'l find Sufficient time both for me to inquire, And you to tell your busine••s and your mind. When they were come into the stately Hall, Her Spear within a case he sets upright

T'a Pillar, in which case the Spears were all, His father left behinde going to sight. Then led her to a chair, which stood upon A dainty Carpet curiously wrought, And put t'her feet a stool to rest upon, And for himself a handsome stool he brought: Then did a Ma••d in a fine golden Ewer Bring water for their hands, and pours it on Over a Bason large of silver pure, And set a table to them, for both, one. From others seats remoter than to fear Their rudeness might offend her, or that they Might peradventure listening overhear What he and she did of Ulysses say. Another sets on bread and other things To eat, such as in her charge were at home. But flesh of many sorts the carver brings, And the cup-bearers often go and come. Then came the Suiters in, and took their places All on a row. To each a Table stands, And golden boul, one way look all their faces, The waiters bring in water for their hands. The Maids in Baskets bring both bread and meat On which they lay their hands with great good will, And heartily and hastily they eat, And to the brim their cups the Servants fill. When they of hunger had pluckt out the sting, The lusty Suiters thoughts converted were To dancing, and to hear the minstril sing, Sports that are consecrated to good chear. To Phemius the minstril that was by Unwillingly, forc'd by th'unruly throng, They brought a Cittern, and he presently Began to play, and then to sing a song. But to the Goddess Pallas, in her ear Telemachus began to speak his mind, Not being, willing any else should hear. Excuse me, friend, that I say what I find. You see the eare of these men what it is, Singing and dancing. And no wonder, since

That which they spend is not their own, but his Whose bones lie somewhere naked far from hence Unburied, it may be on the ground, There torting as he lies i'th' dew and rain, Or else at Sea, perhaps, if he be drown'd, The waves his body roll upon the main. If him at home the best of them should meet Safely arriv'd in Ithaca, he would Much rather wish, I think, for nimble feet Than to be rich in garment or in gold. But Oh! He's dead, and of some cruel death; And though some tell us he is coming home, 'Tis comfortless, for he's bereav'd of breath. To Ithaca I ne'r shall fee him come. But let this pass, and tell me truly now Your own, your Fathers, and your Countries name. And further I desire you'll let me know, Whence are the Mariners that with you came Unto this Town, and tell me this likewise Where rideth the good ship that brought you to't. For verily I can no way devise How you should come on hor••sback or on foot. And tell me were you never here before, Nor saw my Father whilst he here abode? For strangers came to visit him good store As having much converst with men abroad. I'll clearly speak (said Pallas) t'every thing My Father was Anchealus, and I Mentes, my City Taphos, and I King; My people to the Oa•• themselves apply. At present bound I am to Temisa For Brass, and Iron I carry with me'th ther. Under mount Neron, not near Ithaca My Ship at Reith•••••• rideth safe from weather As for your Father, we were mutual Guests, (Ask the old Lord La••rres) from 〈…〉〈…〉 With one old Ma••d alone his meat to dre••••, He lives 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Country house, he'll tell you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 There creeps & ••••e' in his Vineyard up and down. And I came hither now, cause 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was ••old

By some, his Son Ulysses was in Town. But 't••s not so. The Gods do him withold From his dear wife, and native Country still Within an Island, where the Savage men By force detain him much against his will: But all in vain, he shall return agen. For I presage, and come it shall to pass, That am no Prophet, nor Birds understand; Though he were tied there with Chains of brass, He shall get loose and see his native land. But say, are you indeed, that are so grown, His Son? Your heads and eyes are like (I mark) For we were well to one another known, But 'twas before he did for Troy imbark With other Princes of the Argive youth; Fut never saw him since. That I'm his Son (Said he) my Mother says. But who in truth Knoweth who 'twas that got him? I think none? If I might chuse my Father, I would be His Son that groweth old on's own estate. But whom they tell me is my father, he Of all men is the most unfortunate. Then said the Goddess, Howsoe'r that be, The Gods will never nameless leave your kind, That are the Son of fair Penelope, And so well fram'd in body and in mind. But say, What Feast is this, and who these be. You have no cause to feast. Their conversation Pleases me not. 'Tis rude, unmannerly. What is't a Wedding, or is't a Collation? Friend, since you ask (said he) take the whole story. This house was rich, my father being here, But th'unkind Gods have taken hence that glory: For where he is, a word we cannot hear. Less had I griev'd, if he his life had lost With other Argive Lords under Troy wall, Or (the War done) 'mongst those that love him most. Then had he had a noble Funeral, At which th' Acheaan Princes would have been, And th'honour had redounded to his Son.

But now alas! devour'd by Harpies keen, Unheard-of and unaskt-for he is gone, Leaving me here behind to sigh and grone. Besides, the Gods have giv'n me other care Bitter enough. 'Tis not for him alone My heart is rent. There other mischiefs are. How many Lords within these Isles do sway Same, Dulichium, Ithaca, and Zant, So many Suitors duly every day For marriage with my Mother the house haunt. Whilst she can none put off, and will none marry, They spend my corn and wine, and ca••tle kill, And eating here and drinking still they tarry, And me perhaps at last they murder will. Then Pallas said, Is't so? 'Tis time indeed Your Father hither were come back agen, Having so long been absent hence, with speed To lay his hands upon these shameless men. Oh! that just now within the gates he stood Of th'outer Court, I would desire no more, Arm'd with two Spears, Buckler, and Helmet good, Such now, as I have seen him heretofore. From Ephyré he took our house in's way, Where first I saw him merry drinking wine. For he had been with Ilus, him to pray To give him for his sha••t•• a medicine, Wherewith to make them all they wound to kill. But he refus'd, fearing the powers above. And 'twas my Father gave't him for good will: For why, he did him very dearly love. If such as then, Ulysses should appear Amongst the Suiters now, short liv'd, I trow They'd be, and have but bitter wedding chear. But when he shall come home, Gods only know, Or whether you sha••l see him any more. Mean while consider by what means you may G••t the unruly Suiters out of door, That so oppress you, and your house annoy. And first observe what I shall you advise. Convoque the people to the Market-place;

Protest the Gods against their injuries, And let the whole assembly know your case. Say, if they needs will wed her, let her go Back to her Father, who the match should make, And offer for her what is fit; and so Which of them she likes best him let her take. And for your self, I think it your best way, In a good Bark of twenty Oars abroad, T'enquire what men can of your Father say, Or what some lucky signe from Jove may bode. Go first to Pyle, enquire of Nestor; Then To Sparta. Ask of Menelaus, whom Of all which had at Troy commanded men The Gods t' Achaia brought the latest home. If of his safety and return you hear, How much soever they waste your estate, Indure their riot yet another year. If dead, come back, and fairly celebrate He Rites, and give your Mother whom she will For Husband. Then bethink you, how you may By open force, or howsoever kill These shameless Suiters that your means destroy. Be fool'd no more. You're now at mans estate. Aegistus slew Orestes Father. He Aegistus slew. Who does not this relate With honour to Orestes memory? And you, my friend, you are a goodly man. Take heart. Gain honour. I must now be gone; My crew with patience no longer can Stay for me; therefore think what's to be done. Your counsel (said Telemachus) is such As might become a Father to his Son. I'll not forget it. Though your haste be much, Stay yet a while; be not so quickly gone. Wash and take food, and then go merrily; And with you a fair present from me take, Whereby to keep me in your memory; Such as kinde friends to one another make. Then said the Goddess, Now I cannot stay. As for your Present I will not deny it,

But take it at my coming back this way, How much soe'r you mean t'oblige me by it. This said, she mounted from him to the Sky In likeness of an Eagle, to his wonder, Who thought it was some God, and grew thereby Bolder, and on his Father more did ponder. And streightway to the Suiters went, who were Now come again into the house, and seated A Song which Phemius then sung to hear, Containing how the Grecians retreated Unfortunately from the Trojan shore By Pallas doings whom they had offended. Penelope that heard it and was more. Concerned than they all streightway descended. She entred not but in the door did stand Vail'd with a Scarf which on her head she wore, Having a waiting-woman on each hand, And to the Singer thus said, weeping sore. Phemius y'have better Songs, why sing you then This sad one? Fitter 'twere the deeds to tell Of mighty Gods, and mighty deeds of men, Which sure would please the Company as well. Sing one of those, and let them hear and drink, Give over this. You touch my interest, And wound my heart in forcing me to think Upon my Husband, of all Greeks the best. Then said Telemachus, Good Mother why Should not the Singer chuse what Song to si••g, Whose part it is to please the Company It is not he that does the evil bring. 'Tis none of Phemius fault, but th'act of Jove Who deals to all men, all things as he please. Should he not sing the Songs that men most love The new'st? The Greeks sad passage o'r the Seas! Be patient, many more besides Ulysses, Come short from Troy by one fa••e or another, Nor are you th'only wife her husband misses. Many men else are lost. Therefore good Mother Go to your work again above, and see Your Maids do theirs, leave censuring of Songs

Unto us men, and specially to me, To whom the greatest power here belongs. Then to her Chamber up she went again With her two Maids, and the••e began to weep, Being for her dear Husband in great pain, And wept till Pallas clos'd her eyes with sleep. Me••n while the Sui••ers into clusters ran, And one t'another his thoughts uttered With noise enough. But there was not a man That did not w••sh to have her in his bed. Then to them spake Telemachus; D'ye hear Proud Suiters of my mother, let's I pray Give ear unto the Singer, and forbear Clamour. To morrow is the Council day, There I shall warn you publickly, no more To haunt my house, but each man home to go, And there to feast by turns on your own store; And if you be not willing to do so, But your own means to spare, sha••l think it best To feast your selves on one mans substance all, And ruine his estate, go on and feast While I upon the Gods for vengeance call. O that the mighty Jove would so ordain, That all mens actions might be repaid As they deserve! Then should you all be slain Within my doors. After he this had said, The Suiters bit their lips, and silent mused At the strange boldness of Telemachus, And at the language which the Young man used, To which none answer'd but Antinous. The Gods (quoth he) have taught you a high strain Of Language, and undaunted Oratory. But if their meaning were that you should reign Here, o'r us all, I should be very sorry. Telemachus repli'd, Think what you will. If Jove consent, why should not I be King? What harm is it with wealth my house to fill, Besides the honour it will with it bring? In Ithaca there many Princes be, You'll say, would be as glad to rule as I.

No matter, whosoe'r be King, not he, But I am King in my own Family. Who (said Eurymachus) shall have the hap To reign in Ithaca is hard to guess, It lies yet folded up within Jove's lap. None shall, Telemachus, you dispossess Of house, or lan̄d, or goods, by violence, As long as there in Ithaca be men. But tell me who that was, that now went hence. Where he was born, and where he dwells, and then His errand, whether business of his own, Or some news from Ulysses, brought perchance, And went so soon away, t'avoid being known. He was no mean man by his countenance. Then said Telemachus, My Father's dead, We never shall again see one another. With Messengers I trouble not my head, Nor Southsayers that do but sooth my Mother. The man my Fathers old acquaintance was, Mentes Anchialides, and his Town Taphos, and he thereof the ruling has. His people for their Trade by Sea well known! Thus said he, though he doubted not at all But 'twas some God. Mean while the Suiters staying For th'evenings coming on, to dancing fall, Or listen to the minstrel's Song and playing. The evening came, the Suiters went away, Telemachus went also to his bed In a warm stately Chamber, where he lay Ranging the many cares he had in's head; Euryclea a Torch before him bore, Daughter of Ops, now old, but at the time Laertes did her purchase heretofore For twenty Oxen, she was in her prime. He honour'd her as if sh'had been his wise But from her bed perpetually forbore, T'avoid suspition, and domestick strife. Sh'had nurst Telemachus, and lov'd him more Than did the other Maids, and now she stands To l••ght him. He unlocks the door, goes in,

Takes off his Coat, puts it into her hands, She foldeth, brusheth, hangs it on a Pin. Then forth she went, and by a silver Ring Pulls to the Door. And there all night he lay Remembring Pallas words, and pondering Upon the business of the following day.

LIB. II.

SOon as the Rosie Morning did appear, Telemachus himself array'd and shod, Puts on his Sword, and takes in hand his Spear, And out he went appearing like a God. And streight unto the Cryers gave command, To call the People to the Publick place. The People met. And then with Spear in hand He to them takes his way; and followed was By two white Dogs. Then takes his Fathers Throne; His Elders gave him way; all on him gaze. For why, the Goddess Palbas of her own Had set Authority upon his face. The first that spake was old Aegyptius, Stooping with age, of great experience: One Son of his whose name was Antiphus, Went to the Siege of Troy, but coming thence He died in the Savage Cyclops jaws, When with Ulysses he was in his den. Euronymus one of the Suiters was; The others with their Fathers dwelled then. But still he grieved was for Antiphus. The tears ran down his cheeks, and weeping he Rose up, and said unto th' Assembly thus, Ye men of Ithaca, I pray hear me:

Since we to Troy Ulysses sent with Ships, We ne'r convoked were to Parliament. What need have young or old men of our Lips? And who is he that now doth us convent? Has he informed been of some Invasion, And unto us-the same would first report? Or on some other Publick great occasion Would give us Counsel? The Gods bless him sor'••. Telemachus then presently up stands, Though well contented with his Fathers praise. The Crier puts the Scepter in his hands. And to Aegyptius first he speaks, and says, Here am I, that the people have convok'd. Nor do I any news or counsel bring. But by my private suffrings am provok'd. Which here I offer t'your considering. Is it not grief enough, my Fathers loss, That ruled like a Father to us all, But that I must yet bear a greater cross, To see his house to utter ruine fall? My Mothers house the Suiters dai••y fill, And of the best of you they Children are. She wedded must be with her Fathers will. But to her Father go they do not dare. But in my house continually they stay, And Sacrifice my Beeves, and Goats, and Sheep, My wine exhaust, and much they cast away. For why, Ulysses lost is on the deep. And I my self unable to defend. But shall I so be still, or once be able To bring upon these men unjust their end, Whose injuries no more are tolerable? Take it to heart. Think how 'twill taken be By other States. Fear from the Gods some change, That are not pleas'd with such iniquity, And may in closer order make you range. By Jove I you adjure, and Themis, who Convokes Assemblies, and revokes again, Forbear these evil deeds your selves to do, And of your Sons the liberty restrain.

Leave me to suffer misery alone. Hurt none but me. Unless my Father have In hatred of you some great evil done, And for revenge these men such power you gave. But better 'twere for me, that you than they Should spend my Treasure and my comings in. For if among so many men it lay, Begging I might from them the value win. But for my case no help can now be found. So said Telemachus in choler high, And from him threw the Scepter to the ground. Nor could forbear to let fall tears and sigh. The people piti'd him, but silent sat. None but Antinous durst answer make. Telemachus, said he, too passionate You are, and too much liberty you take. The Peoples hatred you would very sain Draw to the Suiters, and procure them shame. But from your Mother cometh all your pain; And therefore her, not us you ought to blame. Three years are gone and past, the fourth is this, Since she her Suiters baffled has with Art, Putting each one in hopes by Messages, And Promises that he had gain'd her heart. Moreover, setting up a Beam to weave, Suiters (said she) since dead Ulysses is, Stay yet a little while, and give me leave To make an end but of one business. I must for old Laertes make a Cloath, Which in his Sepulchre he is to wear. T'offend the Wives of Greece I should be loath. For to accuse me they will not forbear; But say I very hasty was to wed, If I go hence and not provide a shroud Wherein Laertes may be buried. Out of such wealth, that might have been allow'd. Her Suiters all were well content. And then All day she wove, but ere she went to bed, What she had wov'n, she ravell'd out agen. Three years her Suiters thus she frustrated.

In the fouth year her woman her betraid, And in we came, whilst she the web undid. And then to end it she could not avoid. Since now her purpose could no more be hid, To your complaint the Suiters answer thus, (Take notice of it you and all the rest) Send back your Mother to Icarius. There let her marry whom they both think best. But if she think to vex us longer yet, Caring for nothing but for Pallas Gifts, To have the reputation for wit, And skilfulness in curious work and shifts, Wherein th' Achaean wives she doth excel, Both old and young, Tiro, Alomen', Micen', Although with us she hath not dealed well. But if to use us so she longer mean, So much the longer with you we shall eat. Which to Penelope will be a grloy. But we consume shall so much of your meat, If long we stay there, that you will be sorry. For so long as she dodges with us thus, No whither from your house will we depart. Then to him answered Telemachus, Antinous, I ne'r shall have the hear: To send my Mother hence against her will. Abroad my Father is, alive or dead. That I her Father should repay, were ill, For forcing her to leave her Husbands bed. And from the Furies I shall suffer worse. For if I force her from my house to go Whether she will or not, she will me curse. And men will of me be revenged too. If it displease you that she stayeth here, You have your remedy; you may go home And, eve'ry one make all the rest good chear By turns, and into my house never come. But if you needs will feed on me alone, I can but to the Gods, for vengeance call, And reparation for what is done. Which may enough be to destroy you all.

This said, two Eagles coming were in fight, And when they were the Market place just o'r, Th'assembled heads surveying, stopt their Hight, And on their broad and levell'd wings they soar. Then having torn themselves both neck and cheek, They to their right wing rise and fly away. What this should mean th'assembly was to seck. And to them thus did Alitherses say. Hear me ye men of Ithaca (said he) And you the Suiters that are most concern'd. Destruction is rowling toward ye, Although it be not by your selves discern'd. Ulysses from his Friends will not be long. And now from Ithaca far off is not, Seeing what daily done is in the throng. And how to kill the Suiters lays his plot. Nay many more besides the Suiters may Of their misfortune chance to have their part, If they desist not soon and come away. I speak not this at random but on Art. For all must come to pass I told him then, When with the Argive Lords he went to Troy, That after twenty years he should agen Return with pain, his men all cast away. Then said Eurymachus, Old man go home, And there to your own Children prophesie, Lest to them any harm hereafter come. A better Prophet for these things am I. Under the Sun be many birds that fly, And yet not all of them do fortunes tell. Ulysses far hence dead is certainly I know not where. I would thou wert as well, For then you would give over to inflame Telemachus who but too angry is; In hope to get some Present for the same, If he will give it. But I tell you this, If any old man with his wisdom dare To set against us any young man here, He shall be sure himself the worse to fare. And when 'tis done he shall be ne'r the neer.

We'll set a Fine upon your head so wise, Which you to pay will not be well content. I my self will Telemachus advise His Mother may be to her Father sent, To make the Match, and on the Dower agree, Such as becomes him to his Daughter dear. Till that be done no hope at all I see The Suiters should desist. For they not fear Telemachus, as haughty as he is, And full of words; and much less do they care▪ For such deceitful Prophecies as this, For which you only the more hated are. Mean while Telemachus his Goods decay, And he shall never make them up again While she persists her Suiters to delay, And makes us all expect her love in vain. And 'tis her vertue makes us thus to strive Amongst our selves who shall her favour win. For many other Ladies we could wive, And be sufficiently delighted in. Then said Telemachus, No more will I This matter to you press, or to the Woo'rs. You and the Gods know all, I do not lie. But I demand a Bark of twenty Oars. For I intend to travel for a while, To hear what men can of my Father say. To Lacedaemon I will go, and Pyle, Or seek from Jove some notice of his way. And if alive he be and coming home, Though to my cost, I'll stay another year; If dead he be, then back again I'll come, And Rites of burial will give him here Splendid and well becoming his estate, And let my Mother her own liking take. Having thus spoken, down again he sate. And then Ulysses old friend Mentor spake. With whom Ulysses left his house in trust. Hear me, ye Ithacesians, said he. Let no King ever be hereafter just, Nor to his people soft and gentle be,

Since you Ulysses have so soon forgot. That ever rul'd us like a Father kind. But I the Suiters so much accuse not, Although on force and fraud they set their mind. (For 'gainst Ulysses goods which they devour They stake their heads in hope he'll ne'r come home) And you that many are, and have the pow'r To check them sit as if you all were dumb. And then rose up Leocritus and spake: Mentor, said he, more busie much than wise, That would about a Supper quarrel make. Ulysses were he here I'd not advi••e. To seek by force the Suiters to remove. For though he much be wish'd for by his wife, She would not of his coming well approve; But he the sooner be depriv'd of life. And you the people now may hence retire. Mentor and Alitherses will provide A Bark for what place ever he'll desire. And if at Ithaca he mean t'abide, No news he will hear of h••m a great while. But never t' Ithaca shall come agen If he to Lacedaemon go or Pyle. This said, dimiss'd and sca••ter'd were the men. And to Ulysses house the Suiters went, Telemachus to the Sea-side, and prai'd, O God that gavest me Commandement To pass the Seas canst not now be obey'd. I am both by the Town and Woo'rs delai'd. Then in the form of Mentor, Pallas came, And standing by Telemachus, she said With such a voice as Mentor's seem'd the same. If in you you retain the Spirit brave Your Father had to make his word his deed, Then also the assurance I shall have To tell you in your Voyage you shall speed. But if Ulysses Son you be not right, For ought I know you may this labour spa••e. Few Sons exceed or reach their Fathers might, But commonly inferiour they are.

But since in you I see your Fathers Wit, I hope your Voyage shall have good success. Therefore no more with th'Woo'rs in Council sit, Expect from Fools to have no more redress, That see not their own end that is so nigh. Nor shall you long be forced here to stay. For with a good ship furnish you will I, And with you will myself go all the way. Mean while go you into your house agen, And put up store of wine and of cold meat, And good bread, which the marrow is of men. I'll for you Marriners together get. In Ithaca are good ships old and new Good store, of which I will go chuse you one, The best of all that come within my view, And make it ready that we may be gone. This said, to th'house return'd Telemachus. The Woo'rs in killing Cattle were imploy'd, And streight unto him went Antinous, And laughing, took him by the hand and said, Telemachus, bold and brave Orator, Fear from us neither evil word nor deed. Eat and drink merrily as heretofore, We'll see you furnished with what you need Both Ship and Men, and see you soon convei'd To Pyle, that of your Father you may hear. Telemachus then answered and said, Antinous, can I be merry here? D'ye think that yet too little was the wrong The Suiters did me, my estate to waste, When I perceiv'd it not, as being young? But since I grown am, and my childhood past, And somewhat know, and more hear others say, I'll do my best to bring them to their end, Whether I go to Pyle or here do stay. And yet to go to Pyle I do intend, And think my passage will not be in vain. For I go like a Merchant not a Guest, As if to me no ship did appertain. It must be so. The Suiters think it best.

This said, his hand from his hand he snatch'd out. And then the Suiters that were in the Court, Some give him evil words, and others flout, And one another with him make good sport. He'll come from Pyle with Succours, God knows what (Said one) or Sparta, which shall on us fall. Or poyson bring from Ephiré; and that Put in the Temperer shall kill us all. Who knows (then said another) if he go, But he his Fathers fate may also have Whilst seeking him he wanders to and fro; Which would to us no little trouble save. His goods amongst us we should soon divide, And to his mother leave his houses free, And him she chuses to lie by her side. Thus they derided him. Then down went he Into a large and high rooft room where lay In Chests packt up great store of cloth of Gold, And Garments very many rich and gay, And many Barrels of sweet wine and old, Which for Ulysses were preserved there When he returned to his native soil. In the same room many brass Vessels were, And many Barrels of sweet smelling Oyl. And double were the Locks upon the Door, Whereof the Nurse Euryclea had the Key. Telemachus call'd for her, and says to her, Come Nurse, this night I am to go away. Fill me of wine twelve Pitchers of the best Next to that which you for my Father save, And fine flour twenty measures at the least, In good thick leather satchels let me have, Quickly. For when my Mother is a-bed To Lacedemon and to Pyle I go, That of my Father, if alive or dead There any news be, I the same may know. Euryclea then wept and sob'd, and said, Dear Child, why will you go from hence so far Alone? Your Mother you will make afraid, Of whom so dearly you beloved are.

Your Father far off is already dead, And by the way the Suiters seek to kill you, And share your goods amongst them by the head. I pray stay here and do not go. Why will you? Nurse, said Telemachus, be of good chea•• 'Tis by the counsel of a God I go. And I require you solemnly to swear You'll not my going let my Mother know. Telemachus to th'Suiters went agen, And Pallas in his likeness to the Town, For his transporting to procure him men, From house to house she goeth up and down. And of Noemon borrowed a Bark, Who not unwillingly it to him lent. And now the Sun was down, the Streets were dark, And down to the Sea-side the Goddess went. And the good ship into the Sea they hale, And in it stow all that was needful for't. The Mariners were there together all, And ti'd the ship at far end of the Port. Mean while the Sutters merrily carouse, And Pallas then their fancies to confound, From the Sea-side went back into the house, And from their hands the cups threw to the ground, And with the love of sleep possest their Eyes, And made them nod and let their Eye-lids down. And not long after from their seats they rise, And for that night took lodging in the Town. Then like to Mentor both in Foru•• and Voice, Temelachus he calleth out of doors. Your men are ready at the Port, she says, There they expecting you sit with their Oars. Then out they went, and Pallas led the way, And found the Rowers ready on the Beach. Telenachus then said, Come back I pray, To th'house with me, our Victual thence to fetch, Which well put up I there have ready laid. But nothing of it does my Mother know, Nor any else but I and one old Maid. Then with Telemachus to th'house they go,

And to the ship at once bring all away, And stow it as Telemachus though sit. Pallas and he embark without delay, And at the Stern they both together sit. And now the Marriners their Tackle ply. First in the midst they set the Mast upright, And it unto the ship with strong ropes tie, And then their Sails they hoise up to their height Which Pallas with a lusty gale from West Kept full all night. The Ship the Sea then gores. The water swiftly running from her brest By both her sides wounded and broken roars. And then unto the Gods they offer wine, And to them all were praying for a while, But specially unto their Guide Divine. Then sail'd all night, and were next morn at Pyle.

LIB. III.

UP from the Sea the Sun leapt to the Sky, To hold the light up before Gods and men. Telemachus with all his Company Unto the Town of Pyle arrived then. Then Nestor had a Sacrifice in hand To Neptune, and upon the Sea-side stood, And with him store of people on the sand. Black Bulls he eighty one had to him vow'd. Nine seats there were, five hundred to each sear, And to the sa••e nine Bulls appointed were. The Entrails broi'd upon the coals they eat, The Thighs to Neptune burnt to ashes were. The ship then came within the Port to land, And disembarqu't, upon the shore they staid

With furled Sails the Ship did by them stand. Then Pallas to Telemachus thus said, Telemachus, by no mears bashful be. For wherefore did you undertake this task, But of your Father to hear certainty? To Nestor then directly go and ask, If of Ulysses any thing he know. He'll tell you truly. He's too wise to lie. Mentor (said he) I'm young, and know not how With one so old to answer and reply. Telemachus (said Pallas) do not fear. You'll somewhat prompted be by your own brest. (You never by the Gods neglected were) The God that loves you will supply the rest. Then up to Nestor they directly went, And Pallas foremost. All about him there They found upon the Sacrifice intent, (His Sons and Lords) to hasten the good chear. Some broaching, and some roasting were of meat. And presently about the Strangers come, And with their hands salute them, and intreat To sit. And then Piststratus went to'em, Saluted them, and took them both by th'hands, And for them (since there was no empty seat) Laid Sheepskins with the wool upon the sands; And of the Entrails gave them part to eat. And to her hand held up a cup of Wine. To Neptune (said he) offer up your vow, For he expresly is the Pow's Divine, That we to worship be assembled now. And having drunk, give it to this mans hand, That he may a••so give the Gods their due, For all men of the Gods in need do stand. And I thought fit to give it first to you, 'Cause you are th'elder, th'other young as I. Then Pallas from his hand receiv'd the Cup, And pleased was to see his Equity. And then to Neptune sent her Prayers up. Neptune (said she) have to my Prayer regard. First Nestor and his Sons with Honour bless,

And of his people th'Hecatomb reward. And give Telemachus and me success. Thus prayed she, and gave for what she pray'd. And to Telemachus then gave the Cup. And he to N••ptune the same Prayer said. The meat being ready now and taken up, And into Messes cut, themselves they feast. And when of hunger extinct was the force, Then to his Guests Nestor his speech addrest. Friends, said he, now we time have to discourse. Tell me who are you, whence d'ye cross the Main? Is it for Traffick? Or d'ye pleasure take, As Pyrates walk at Sea, to and again, Others to spoil to set your lives at stake? To this Telemachus with confidence (Which into him the Goddess did inspire, The better to obtain Intelligence, And reputation to himself acquire) Answer'd: O Nestor Nelëiades The glory of the Greeks we hither came From Ithaca on no State-business, But of my Father to seek news from Fame. Unblest Ulysses who at Ilium Together with you fought before the Town. Of th'other Chiefs we hear what is become. But where Ulysses di'd is still unknown. Whether at Land he slain were by the Foe, Or by the Sea devoured he hath been. But at your knees we hither come to know, What you since then have heard of him or seen. Wandring about, born to calamity. Let no respect, or pity mitigate Your Story, howsoever sad it be. Nothing but naked truth to me relate. And I beseech you for my Fathers sake, If he before the Town of Troy did well Perform the Service he did undertake, That nothing but the very truth you tell. O Friend, said Nestor, since you bring again To memory our miseries at Troy,

Under Achilles first by Sea, what pain We suffer'd then; and after when we lay And fought before King Priam's Royal Seat What we endured, what great men we lost. The doughty Ajax, and Achilles great, That were the Chief of all the Argive host. The valiant Patroclus, and my Son Antilochus, both valiant in fight, And if an enemy were put to run Before him, he could hardly scape by flight. But numberless were our sad chances there; No mortal man can count them one by one. And if you five or six years should stay here, You'ld weary be of asking, and be gone. Nine years we plots contriv'd to take the Town, Which Jove made prosperous with much ado. Ulysses had for plotting the renown. For none compar'd himself your Father to. If it be true you are Ulysses Son; And I confess, hearing you speak your mind, And stedfastly your person looking or, Much respect for you in my self I find. While we together were at Troy, we rever In Council or Assembly disagreed. But what was for the Argives good we ever Endeavour'd what we could to get decreed. But when of Troy we had destroy'd the Town, And back unto our ships again were come, Then Jove upon the Greeks began to frown, Intending to them ill returning home. For few there were amongst them just or wise, But on themselves they drew down their own fate. Which made the Goddess Pallas to devise To set the two Atrides at debate. Then of the People they a meeting call At almost Sun-set, and the people came (Having their heads with wine disorder'd all) Th' Atrides told them why they call'd the same, Where Menelaus votes to cross the Seas, And each man to his Country to repass.

But this advice his Brother did not please. To stay there yet a while his counsel was. And first a Hecatomb to Sacrifice, The Goddess Pallas anger to appease. But Agamemnon therein was not wise. Men cannot change the will o'th'Gods with ease. While they contending were with words unmeet, One part arose resolv'd to stay all night, And in the Morn to ••o aboard the fleer, And each one tow'rds his home to take his flight. And shipt our Captive Women and our Prey. One half we were, and came to Tenedus. The other half with Agamemnon stay. And Pallas then again divided us. And one part back to Agamemnon went. But I with all my own ships homeward fled. (Knowing that Jove to the Greeks evil meant) So did the Son of Tideus Diomed. At Lesbos to us Menelaus came, Where we which way to go consulting sta••d Chius wi••hin, or else without the same. And for direction to the Gods we prai'd. Of the wide Sea t' Enboea they bid sail, That we in safety be the sooner might. And sent us therewithal a lusty gale Which brought us to Gerestus when 'twas night. And there to Neatune we burnt many Thighs. On the fourth day the Ships of Diomed To Arges came. The same Wind staid ••th'Skies Till I at Pyle was safe deli••ered. So came I home, sweet Child, and cannot tell Which of the Greeks came safe home, and which not. But what has since been told me I know well (And so far as is reason you shall know'••) The Myrmydons, they say came safely home, Conducted by stout N••optolemus. And Philoctetes very well did come Unto his Fathers house Palla••tius. Idomeneus to Creet brought all h••s men That were not slain at Ilium in fight.

How Agamemnon, when come home agen, Was butchered, I need not to recite. Nor how he came, nor of Aegistus plot, Nor yet how bitterly he smarted for't. 'Tis good, you see, to have a Son begot, That can revenge his Father in that sort. And you, my friend, that tall are and well made, Be valiant, and get 'mongst men good same. Telemachus then answered and said, O Nestor, but my-case is not the same. Sharp the revenge was of Atrides Son, And far and wide will matter be for Songs, But from the Gods such power I have none To be revenged of the Suiters wrongs. O Friend (said Nestor) since I have been told, That many who your Mother seek to marry, Without your leave do with your house make bold, And spending of your substance daily tarry, Is it because you are therewith content? Or are you foro't to bear such injury Because your people are against you bent, Provok't thereto by some Divinity? But who knows but at last they may be paid For all the Injuries which they have done, And insolence, by the Achaeans aid, Or peradventure by your self alone? For if of you Pallas as careful were, As carefully she did your Father guide At Troy (a God to man ne'r did appear So plainly as she there stood by his side.) If Pallas were so kind to you, you'ld see The Suiters quickly would forget to wooe. Then said Telemachus, 'Twill never be, Although the Gods should give consent thereto. Telemachus, said Pallas, what a word Have you let fall? A man may be with ease Though far off, to his native Soil restor'd By any of the Gods, if so he please. And I at home had rather lose my life Fighting than sitting as Atrides di'd,

Slain by Aegistus and his own bad wife, Basely by them in whom he did confide. And yet the Gods unable are to save A man from death, although he be a friend, Whose end the cruel Fates determin'd have. Then said Telemachus, Let's make an end Of this discourse. Ulysses latest day Determin'd by the Gods already is, And I to Nestor somewhat else will say; For three mens ages do but equal his. O Nestor, I would fain informed be How Agamemnon was of life depriv'd. And Menelaus, where mean while was he? And how Aegistus had the Plot contriv'd. Was it that Menelaus too long stai'd, Aegistus ventur'd on a better wight? I'll tell you all the truth (then Nestor said.) And yet what you your self have guess'd is right. For why, if Menelaus coming home Aegistus in the house alive had sound, He never had at Argos had a Tomb, But eaten been by Dogs above the ground, And Fowls of prey. Nor had he had the pitty Of th' Argive women, nor lamerted been, But lien had i'th' fields far from the City. For why, a vilder act was never seen. For when at Troy we ended had the strise, Long time it was before we came away. Then Siege laid he to Agamemnon's wife, And secretly hidden in Argos lay, And she at first refus'd, and counsel took Of a Learn'd man, whom Agamemnon left Going to Troy his wife to overlook, But soon Aegistus him of life-bereft. For in a desert Island he him kill'd, And left him for a booty to the Kites, And then unto Aegistus she did yield, And richly were pe form'•• the wedding rites. Then on the Altars many Thighs they burn, And with them rich mens baubles, and gold stuff

For why, for so unhop't-for a good turn, They thought they could not thank the Gods e∣nough. Now coming Menelaus was and I, And were as far come as to Sun••um, When Phrontis, his good Steers-man chanc'd to die, The best that in a storm e'r••ship brought home, And hindrance of his coming this was some To bury him. But when he put to Sea, And was with all his ships in safety come Under the windy Mountain of Malea, Then an ill passage for them Jove provided. The wind then whistled, and the water danced, And into two parts was the fleet divided; And one part to the Coast of Creet advanced, Where Cydons dwell, near Jardan R••vers mouth. There in the Sea standeth a Stone upright That breaks the water when it rolls from South, So that it comes to Phaestus without might; And there the men came in and sav'd their lives. But all the Ships upon the Rock were split. The other part the wind to Aegypt drives With Menelaus. Five ships were in it. Whilst Me••elaus did in Aegypt stay, And visit Princes, and their gifts receiv'd, Aegistus made the Argives him obey, And Agamemnon of his life bereav'd. And sev'n years in Mycene reigned he. But then Orestes came, whom they not knew, From Ath••us to them unexpectedly▪ And there the slayer of his Father slew. And seasted th'A••givès at the Funeral Of him and her. That very day did come King Menelaus, his ships laden all From Aegypt with his costly Presents home. And you, my friend, take heed you do not stay Too long abroad, leaving your goods among So many Knaves that waste them ev'ry day, And will consume them utterly ere long. But go to Menelaus who came last, And wandring has among much people been.

A Bird could hardly so much Sea have past In a years time, as wandring he has seen. Therefore to Sparta go with ship and Crew. Or if by Land, my Coach is ready for ye. Also my Son shall go along with you And ask of Menelaus all his Story. He's wise. Besides the truth he'll nothing say▪ This said, the Sun was down, and dark the Sky. Nestor, said Pallas, you before us lay That to which we have nothing to reply. Now slit the Tongues, and let wine temper'd be, That we may offer to th'Immortals all. The light is gone, and need of sleep have we. So Pallas said, and they to offering fall. The Waiters then brought water for their hands, And young men to them all brought temper'd wine. The Tongues lay on the fire, each one up stands And offers wine unto the Powers divine. And when the Offering was at an end Telemachus and Pallas were about To go aboard, and there the night to spend. But Nestor on the other side cri'd out, The Gods forbid that you should lie aboard As if I were a man so rude or poor As not good bedding for a friend t'afford. Since then I have of Rugs and Bedding store, And many Sons alive with me at home, That able are my friends to entertain, And 'tis Ulysses Son that's to me come, Surely this night he shall with me remain. O Nestor, then said Pallas, that is right. And at your house to lodge for him 'tis best. But at the ship I needs must lie this night, His purpose to make known to all the rest. Amongst them there no old man is but I, The company t'encourage that expect Telemachus. Not with Authority, But my advice they'll follow for respect. The next day with the Cancons I must be About an old and not a little debt.

And then that he may Menelaus see, With strong swift horses on his way him set. This said, the Goddess Pallas went away In likeness of an Eagle to the skies. The people star'd, and knew not what to say, And Nestor wondring saw it with his eyes. And took Telemachus by th'hand, and said, A good man you will be Telemachus And valiant, that are by a God convoy'd: And this same God that guided you to us, Is none but Pallas daughter of grea: Jove, That did at Troy your Father always guide. Let me and mine, O Goddess, have your love, And amongst men a Noble Fame and wide. A Heifer on your Altar shall be laid That ne'r bare Yoke, a Yearling from the field; And gilt shall be her horns. So Nestor prai'd. And Pallas hearing, to his Pray'r did yield. And Nestor to his house then led them all, Both Sons and Sons-in-law, and being there, They sat on Charis and Couches in the Hall, Then Nestor bids one fill the Temperer With Wine that aged was eleven year, From out a Vessel first uncover'd then. And when the Wine and Water mixed were, Then Nestor prai'd and offered. And when The Offrings to the Goddess ended were, The rest unto their lodgings went away. Telemachus by Nestor stai'd was there, And in a soft and costly bed he lay. And near unto him lay Pisistratus▪ Who of the Sons of Nestor was the last, And Nestor in the inmost part of th'house, Where, by the Queen his wife, his bed was plac'••, Soon as Aurora did the day restore, The old Knight Nestor rose up from his bed, And sat upon the Bench before the door, Of marble white and smooth that glistered. His Father used to sit there before, King Neleus, but that since he was dead,

And that King Nestor now the Scepter bore There sat he now, and to him gathered Were all his Sons. Echephron, Stratius, Perseus, Aretus, Godlike Thrasymed. Pisistratus. (Dead was Antilochus.) Along with them Telemachus they led. Then to his Children Nestor spake and said, Do quickly, Sons, what you shall from me hear. A Vow I made to Pallas must be paid, Who did to me so visibly appear. Let one of you unto the Pastures hie And bid a Herdsman bring a Heifer home; One to Telemachus his Ship quickly; And bid his mates, save two, all hither come. Another bid the Gilder hither come, To gild the sacred Heifers horns with speed. The rest stay here to look to things at home, That all things may be ready that we need. Seats, dry wood, and fair water. So said he. Then busie were they all. The Heifer came, And all Telemachus his Company. The Gilder came, Laerces was his name, And every tool that to his Art belongs, And necessary is, had in his hands; His Anvil, and his Hammer, and his Tongs. And Pallas also now amongst them stands. Then fell the man to work on Nestor's Gold, And so elaborate it was when done, That it might please the Goddess to behold. Then came in Stratius and Echephron, And by the horns they led the Heifer in. The Bason and the Ewre, and Barly white Aretus brought; and with an Axe full keen Stood Thrasymed ready the Beast to smite. Then Nestor prai'd, and from the Heifers head Cut off some hair, and into th'fire it threw. Then prai'd the rest; and Barly sprinkled Upon the fire, and Thrasymed then slew The Heifer with his Axe, and cut in twain The tendons of the neck, and down she fell;

And Nestor's Wife and Daughters shout amain To see the sacred act performed well. Pisistratus then cuts the Victims throat, And up they held it to let out the blood Into a Pail which Perseus thither brought, And to that purpose ready with it stood. The life together with the blood outflies. Then from the Body they the Bowels draw, And next cut off the Shoulders and the Thighs. As is of Sacrifice the Ritual Law. And them slit into two parts they display, And cover them all over with sweet fat. Shoulder on Shoulder, Thigh on Thigh they lay. And Nestor on the Altar burneth that, And with it on the fire black wine he poured. By him a spit was ready with five points. The fire the Thighs, the men th'Entrails devoured. The rest divided was in smaller ••oynts To rost on spits. Telemachus the while Into the Bath retired, and was there Well bathed, and anointed with sweet Oyl By Polycaste Nestor's Daughter dear And in a Robe and Coat clad gloriously, And came as if no mortal he had been Into the Hall, and sat down Nestor by. The meat now ready straightway was brought in▪ Then in the young men came to fill them wine. When they with flesh and wine were satisfi'd, Then to his Sons, said Nestor, Children mine The Horses to the Coach see quickly ti'd. Away they go, and to the Coach they set The Horses swift; and in it bread and wine A Maid laid in; and with it choi••est meat, Which none but God-fed Kings eat when they dine Up to the Seat then went Telemachus (The Seat was large and capable of two) And after him went up Pisistratus, And Whip and Reins he took his hands into. Toucht with the Whip, the Horses take the way, And all the day long made their Harness shake.

The Sun went down, dark were the streets. Then they At Pherae were. And there their rest they take. There Diocles, Orsilochus his Son, Son of Alphaeus them did entertain, And with fair Gifts presented them each one. But soon as Morning did appear again, Their Horses to the Coach again they tie, And from the Porch drive them into the way. Toucht with the Whip again away they fly. The Sun now down, and ended was the day.

LIB. IV.

ANd then to Lacedaemon come were they, And drove up to the House of Menelaus. At home they found him. For there on that day A double Wedding celebrated was. One, of his Daughter, fair Hermione Whom he before at Troy had promised Of Neoptolemus the wife should be. And on this day the same accomplished. And her he sent unto the Myrmidons Where reigned he. To Pthia she was brought: And then the second Wedding was his Son's, Whom on a Woman bond he had begot. And Megapenthes nam'd. (For Helens bed Fruitless was after fair Hermione.) And he Alector's daughter married. Of Lacedaemon Citizen was he. And now they merry sat that bidden were, Making good chear, and hearing Voice and Fiddle, And wondring at two Tumblers that were there, That moving to the time stood in the middle.

Mean while by th'Horses th'utter Gate without Telemachus stood and Pisistratus. Then Eteoneus by chance came out, A careful Servant of Menelaus. And having seen them, in he went agen, And being neer to where his Master sate, O King (said he) there are without two men Like Great mens sons with their Coach at the gate. Shall I take out their Horses? Or shall I Tell them where they may lodged be elsewhere? At this Atrides grieved, made reply, Eteoneus, sure once you wiser were. Have we not oft by strangers heretofore In our necessity relieved been? And I pray God it may be so no more. Go, loofe the Horses, and the men bring in. This said, he went again with Servants more. Takes out the Horses. Ties them to the Mangers, And throws before them Provender good store. Sets up the Coach, and then brings in the strangers, Who at the beauty of the house amaz'd. (For bright it shined as the Moon or Sun) And when they had sufficiently gazed, To where the Bathing-room was walked on. After they were well washed and anointed, And clothed with soft nappy Cloak and Coat, That they should near him sit the King appointed, And near unto his Throne their Chairs were brought. A Maid the golden Bason and the Ewre To wash their hands over a Caldron brings, (The Caldron also was of silver pure) Another on the Table laid good things. Another Bread. The Carver also cuts Of every sort of meat the choicest bits, And them on Trenchers on the Table puts. And Menelaus pointing to it sits And heartily invites them to fall to. Eat now, said he, we shall have time enough When you have supp'd to ask you where and who, Your Ancestors are not obscure I know.

Such Children are not got by wretched men. And as he spake he took from his own Mess As much as both his hands could comprehend Of good Chine-beef, and gave it to these Guests. And then they laid their hands upon their meat. But when their hunger and their thirst was gone, Telemachus that near sat to his seat Whisper'd Pisistratus, You, Nestor's son, Do you not mark the splendour in this house Of Brass, Gold, Amber, Silver, Ivory? Such sure the house is of Olympius, So many and so glorious things I see. But Menelaus heard him. Let, said he, No mortal man with Jupiter compare. His house decays not, nor goods wasted be. What men compare with me I do not care. For why, my Goods I paid for very dear With pain and peril in my coming home, And wandring up and down at Sea eight year Before I could into my Country come. I was in Cyprus and Phoenicia, Came to the Cydons and Erembians, To Aegypt and to Ethiopia, And to the fertile grounds o'th' Libyans. Where ev'ry year the Sheep three times do breed, And all the Lambs fall horned from the Dam. Nor master nor his man there stands in need Of Cheese or Milk, or tender flesh of Lamb. While I my Goods amongst them wandring got, I lost my Brother by his wife betrai'd. And therefore in my riches glory not. And all this to you have your Fathers said. Absent, I lost my house, and much rich stuff. Had I my fellows sav'd I led to Troy, I'd been content with the third part thereof. So all to all I've l••t••le cause of joy. For all my friends at Troy lost griev'd was I, And sometimes wept, yet sometimes also not. For quick of tears is the satiety. But one there is, when he is in my thought

I neither food nor sleep desire to take. For all the while we were besieging Troy, None suffer'd so much for the Argives sake As did Ulysses, nor so oft did pray. And more perhaps he is to suffer yet. Long stays he, and whether alive or dead He be, I can from no man notice get, Nor from my sorrow be delivered. Mean while as for a Son of life beref: Laertes weeps. So does Penelope. Telemachus whom young Ulysses left, Spends his best age in pain and misery. This said, Telemachus before his eyes Held up his Purple Robe, the tears to hide Drawn from him by his Fathers Miseries. And Menelaus when he that espi'd Consider'd whether best it were or no To tell him first what he had heard or seen About his Father, or what he would know To let him ask. But Helen then came in Like to Diana in great Majesty. Adreste came in with her with a Chair. Alcippe a soft Carpet layed nigh. Her Basket brought in was by Phyl•• fair. At Thebes in Aegypt it was given her By Polybus his wife Alcandre, when King M••nelaus travelling was there, And Polybus gave to him Talents ten Of Gold, and Lavers two of Silver sine, And two three footed Caldrons of good Brass. Then by Al••andre t'Helena Divine A silver brim guilt Basket given was With fine and curiously spun thred prest full With Distaff on it more thred yet to spin Ready invested with soft Purple Wool. This was the Basket Phylo then brought in. Then Helen sat, and by her Husband old What thitherto had past: I know said she, King Menelaus, now I them behold The Guests that are come to you, who they be,

But shall I tell you what I think or no? I'll tell you true. I never yet saw one So like another as th••s man is to Telemachus, Ulysses onely Son. Whom when with other Greeks to Ilium He went to fetch away this Monky me By bloody War, he left a Child at home. Then Menelaus spake. Since you, said he, Have put it in my minde, I think so too. His eyes, his feet, his hands, his head, his hair Are like Ulysses his, who I'd tell you now What misery for me he suffer'd there, But that it makes him weep and hide his eyes. Then to Atrides said Pisistratus, The truth to you, O King, I'll not disguise. This is Ulysses Son Telemachus. But jealous of his Tongue and fearful is Before a man experienced and wise, Lest he should say something at first amiss, And lay his weakness open to your eyes. N••stor sent me along with him for guide, Because he so much longed you to see, And hear what of his Father was betide, And by you holpen and instructed be. Unhappy is the Child whose Father's gone, And this is now Telemachus his case. For of Ulysses news he can hear none, Who to defend him left none in his place. How, how! then sa••d Atrides, I have here The Son of one that I esteemed most, And for my sake suffer'd and did more there Than any other in the Argive Host. To whom I meant, had we come safely home, To shew more kindness than to any one Of all the Greeks. Assoon as we were come. I had to Argos brought him and his Son; Built them a City; made both but one state, And laid the Cities round about us waste; And often there with one another sate; And only death our Friendship had displac't.

But by the Gods these thoughts are rendred vain. They have Ulysses from his Country kept. This said, they could f••om tears no more abstain. Joves Daughter Argive Helena then wept, And Menelaus and Telemachus. Nor could Pisistratus his tears restrain, But on his Brother thought Antilochus, That by the fair Aurora's Son was slain. And him remembring, to Atrides spake. Atrides, oft have I heard Nestor tell, (As oft as we did of you mention make) That you 'mongst men in wisdom do excel. I pray you think not I take any pleasure To act at Supper-time the rites of mourning. For that another time we shall have leisure, Unless we look no more to see the Morning. Not that I weeping for the dead condemn, Or cutting off of hair. It is a debt We owe to our dead friends. And one of them My Brother is, whom I cannot forget. He was not of the Greeks the meanest man. For swift he was of foot and bold in fight (Which you than I much better witness can) To kill his Foe in battle or in flight. Dear friend, Atrides answer'd, you have said What might an older man have well beseemed To say and do; and Nestor's stock bewray'd, Whose wisdom is of all mens most esteemed. 'Tis easie to discern the race of one To whom a happy life the Gods shall grant, As unto noble Nestor they have done, Long life, and Sons discreet and valiant. Let's put off for the present tales of sorrow, And to our meat again our minds apply. Bring water for our hands. Betimes to morrow We'll talk of this Telemachus and I. This sa••d, Asphalion came in with water. They wash'd, and on the meat their hands they laid. But in the mean time Helena Joves Daughter An Antidote into the wine convei'd.

An Antidote that vertue had to keep The man that drank it mixed with his wine So as for all that day he should not weep, Nor for whatever should befal him whine. No though his Father or his Mother di'd, Or Friend or Brother slain were in his sight. By cruel Enemies that them envi'd. Such was of Helens Medicine the might, Which t'her in Aegypt Thon's wife given had, Where many Drugs of wondrous vertue grow, Some here, some there, and some good, and some bad. For all men there the Art of Physick know. For why, from Paean sp••ung are all those men. The Antidote put in, she bad the wine Be born about. And then she said agen, King Menelaus offspring of Gods divine, Descended from the Gods are also these. And Jove good fortune gives sometimes to one, And sometimes to another, as he please. For he can do whatever can be done. Feast then, and merrily together sit, And please your selves with stories. I'll tell one, And which as to the time, is not unfit, Of what at Troy was by Ulysses done. I will not tell you all the pranks he plaid, But onely how he came into the Town, With canvas Mantle o'r his shoulders laid, Bloody with stripes, from no hand but his own; And by the name of Dectes there did pass, And as a slave went freely up and down, When such man in the Fleet at all none was. And was to every one but me unknown. I question'd him, and he at first was shy. But when I bath'd him and anointed had, And cloth'd, and tane an Oath of secresie, He told me what designe the Argives had. Then having gotten much Intelligence, And many of the Trojan people slain, He safely to the fleet departed thence Leaving their Wives lamenting there in vain.

But I was glad. For changed was my minde, And griev'd by Venus t'have been made so mad, To leave my Child Hermione behind, And my good Husband when no cause I had. Then Menelaus said, Your Story, Wife, Is to the purpose. Countries I have seen Many; and oft with Heroes in my life In Councels sitten; but was never in The place where any like Ulysses sat. I'th'Wooden Horse, I'll tell you what he did. (No man did ever such a thing as that) The Princes of the Army there lay hid Death and destruction bearing into Troy. Some Daemon then that was no friend to us, Made you come forth our Counsel to destroy. And with you also came Deiphobus. And thrice about the Wooden Horse you went, And called to us ev'ry man by name, And our Wives voices so did represent, As not to be discerned from the same. I'th' midst Ulysses, Diomed, and I Heard well your call as we together sat, And ready were to go forth, or reply; But by Ulysses hindred were of that. But Anticlus had answered certainly, Had not Ulysses when he heard her call, Laid hand upon his mouth immediately, And held, till you were gone. That sav'd us all. 'Twas much (then said Telemachus) but this Was not enough the man alive to keep Though made of steel, whose end determin'd is. But now, O King, the time is come for sleep. Then Helen to her women order gave To see their Beds made ready; and lay on Fair Purple Rugs, and under them to have Soft Blankets, and fine Coverlids upon Before the liouse in Chamber o'r the Gate. But in the inmost of the Palace lay King Menelaus with his Royal Mate, And rose again together with the day.

And when he had himself attir'd and shod, And hung his trusty sword had by his side, Out of his Chamber came he like a God, And to Telemachus himself appli'd. Telemachus said he, what bringeth you To Lacedaemon o'r the Sea so wide? Publick or private bus'ness? Tell me true. Telemachus unto him then repli'd. To you, King Menelaus, I am come T'enquire what of my Father is betide. My house is full of Enemies at home, That me consume; and there resolve t'abide. I'th' fields they fruitless make my husbandry. My stock they eat; and would my Mother wed. This made me come to know the certainty Whether my Father be alive or dead. Whether you saw him after he left Troy Wandring abroad. (For he was born to woe.) Or of him any thing heard others say. Let tenderness hide nothing that you know. If in the Argive Host he useful were In Counsel or in Battle, when need was, Tell me the truth be't never so severe. To this, much grieved, answer'd Menelaus. Yes, yes (said he) there many enter'd be Into a strong mans house while he's away. And are in hope to dwell there constantly, Though not so valiant, as he, be they. As when a Stag and Hind entring the Den Of th'absent Lion lulls his whelps with tales Of Hills and Dales, the Lion comes agen And tears them into pieces with his nails; So shall Ulysses all those Suiters slay. O that the Gods, Apollo, Pallas, Jove, Amongst the Suiters set him would one day, Such as when with Philonelid he strove, And threw him flat, and made the Argives glad. If such as then Ulysses should be there, Short would their lives be and their wedding bad. But to the matter whereof you would hear,

I can say nothing upon certainty, And my own knowledge. But what I was told By Proteus. And tell I will no lie, Nor any thing of what he said with-hold. Before the Land of Aegypt Pharos lies, An Island, and therein a Haven good Against whatever wind shall chance to ••ise. And ready to depart my ships there stood. A days sail distant stands it in the Main; But 'cause the Hecatomb I offer'd not, The Gods a long time did me there detain. For they are angry when they are forgot. There twenty days together we were pent, Though fain we would have put again to Sea; And our Provision had quite been spent, But that I then met with Idoth••ë. She daughter is of Proteus. And he A Herdsman old of Neptune is, and has The charge his Sea-calves kept and fed to see. His daughter met me when alone I was. My Company their dinner to provide, With Angle rods were fishing on the strand. Then said she to me standing by my side, Why stay you here and nothing take in hand: To help your self, as if a Child you were, Or negligent, or loved misery, Suffring your self to be so long pent here? Or can you no way find to be set free? What God you be soever (answer'd I) Thus much unto you I must plainly say, That in this Isle I stay unwillingly, And for my freedom to the Gods I pray. But tell me you (for Gods know every thing) What God is it that to this place me ti'd; And what it is that must me from it bring. I'll tell you then, said she, and noth••ng hide. By an old Sea god haunted is this Isle, Call'd Proteus, that nothing says untrue, Servant to Neptune. Whom if by some wile You could but catch and hold, he'd answer you

To all you ask. And he my Father is. He'll tell you how to get your ships to Sea; And how you shall get home. He knows all this, And what's there done. So said Idothoë. But how (said I) is't possible for man Upon a God Immortal to lay hold, When he foreseeing it avoid it can, If how to do't he be not by you told? I'll tell you (said she) how it may be done. Hidden in the Curls of the Sea each day Brought in by Zephyrus, he lands at noon, And on the Sand himself to sleep will lay. About him will his footless Sea-calves lie, And of the brine abominably smell. And thither bring you in the morn will I, And how to place your selves instruct you well. For three more must come with you lusty men, Whom you shall chuse from out your company. The old Sea god his flock will number then, And having done, i'th' midst of them will lie, Just as a Shepherd lies amongst his sheep. Now waver not, but bold and constant be. Assoon as you shall see he is asleep, Lay hold on him, and keep it constantly. For he in divers shapes will with you struggle. He will be any Serpent that he please. Himself he'll into Fire or Water juggle. Therefore hold fast, left he your hands disseize. When of himself he shall contented be In his first form the matter to debate; Take off your hands, and set the old God free. Then of your business him interrogate, What God it is that hath your hurt contrived. How you shall put to Sea. Which way go home. This said, into the Sea again she dived. Then full of thoughts back to my ships I come, And supt. And when we supped had 'twas night. Then slept we by our ships upon the sand. But when Aurora had brought back the light, Then went I with my three men to the strand,

And prayed to the Gods; my men I chose; Such men as for the purpose fit I thought. Idothoe then from the Sea arose, And in her hand four Sea-calves skins she brought All raw, her Father thereby to betray. And with those skins upon us on the shore Scrap'd hollow by her, like Sea-calves we lay. And there our lodging had been very sore, (For so abominably do they stink, That no man neer them can endure to lie. Is it good lying with a Whale d'ye think?) But that she for it had a remedy. Ambrosia she with her brought, and laid The same unto our noses one by one, Which the ill savour of the Fish allai'd. And thus we lay expecting till 'twas Noon. Then all at once the Sea-calves came ashore, And there themselves they bedded or derly. At noon came Proteus and counts them o'r, And first were counted my three me•• and I. Then lay he also down. And by and by He fell asleep. Then we unto him ran, And laid hands on him with a hideous cry. And he to shew his wondrous art began. A shaggy Lion first he seem'd to be; And then a Dragon; then a Leopard; And then a Boar; then Water; then a Tree. But still we kept ou•• hold, and prest him hard. He weary was at last, and then he said, Atrides, how came you by so much skill To hold me thus? What God has me betrai'd? What needed you to vex me? What's your will? What need, said I, have you from me ••o hear, That bound am to this Isle, and know not how To put to Sea, nor what God holds me here, When you can tell me (for Gods all things know.) Then back, said he, to Greece you cannot come, Till you to Aegypt do return again, And pay to all the Gods a Hecatomb. That done, you shall pass safely o'r the Main.

Thus Proteus said. But that I must go first Back into Aegypt, an ill and long way, My heart to hear it ready was to burst. 'Tis hard, said I, but I'll do all you say. But tell me of the Argives first, if they With their good ships came all in safety home, That I and Nestor left behind at T••oy. How many by the way they lost, and whom. Some of them scap'd, said he, and some are lost. But of the Princes lost are only twain In their return. (Upon the Trojan Coast You know who d••'d.) And one the Gods detain: First Ajax ships by winds are laid aground At Gyroe, Rocks that on the Deep look down, And 'gainst the Sea protection there had found, However Pallas did upon him frown, But that a high provoking word he spake. I'll pass, said he, although the Gods say no. And Neptune then the Rock he sat on brake. Both he and it into the water go, Where, when he had drunk brine enough, he di'd. Your Brother also safely past the Sea, And came to Argos. (Juno was his guide.) And when he was come near to Mount Malea. Forc'd by foul weather he disbarked, where Thyestes formerly his age had spent. But now his Son Aegistus dwelled there. The Gods then chang'd the wind, and homeward went. Full glad he was, and kist the ground for joy, And from him fell the tears abundantly. Aegistus that lo••g sought him to destroy, Had plac'd a man on purpose to descry Th'arrival of the Fleet; whom he had hired To watch upon a Hill a year together, For Talents ten of Gold that he requ••red, And tell him when the Fleet from Troy came thi∣ther. The Watchman s••w them, and t' Aegistus went And gave him notice of their coming in. Aegistus then t'effect his bad intent, Chose twenty lusty men, and them within

An Inner room he placed out of sight. And a great Supper bids his men provide; Then down went, Agamemnon to invi••e, With Horses and with Coaches to th'Seaside, And brought him up to Supper in great state. Then rose the Traitors that in ambash lay, And killed him as he at Supper sate. Not any man alive went thence away That with Atridis or with him took part. When of his story he had made an end, To break with pity ready was my heart. In streams down on my cheeks the tears descend. I wished never more to see the Sun, And weeping on the sand my self ••••roll'd. But when my Lamentation was done, Then Proteus said again, Your wee ping hold. Tears are no remedy. But make haste home. There lives Aegistus, or if he be slain Already by Orestes, you will come To his Interment. This chear'd me again. And then I asked further of him this, Since you have told me what's become of two, Tell me, the third that stays abroad, who 'tis, Alive or dead; though that will g••ieve me too. It is (said he) Ulysses. Whom I saw In th'Island where Calypso dwells, o'th'shoar Weeping, who fain would come to Ithaca, But with him neither has a Ship or Oar. And you, O Menelaus, shall not die In Argos (for 'tis otherwise decreed) But be convey'd t' Elyzium. For why, Of Jupiter you wedded have the Seed. There humanes lead their lives in greatest ease. No Snow nor Frost there is. Refreshed there They are by Z••phyr's rising from the Seas. And Jove's Son Rhadamanthus dwel••eth there. This said, into the Sea he went agen. But I with thoughts confused in my head Returned back unto my ships and men. And soon as we had sup'd the night was spread.

Then back again into the Nyle we go, And offer'd to the Gods a Hecatomb; When we their anger had appeased so, For Agamemnon there we rais'd a Tomb. When this was done, for Argos we set sail, And quickly to our native soil we came. Th'lmmortal Gods gave us a lusty gale, And all the way continued the same. Telemachus, yo've heard all I can say. But must not therefore streightway take your leave. Until th'eleventh or twelfth day you must stay, The Presents I intend you to receive. A Chariot you shall have and Horses three, And a fair Cup emboss'd to offer wine, That in your Vows you may remember me. Then said Telemachus, I here have li'n Long time already. And my men at Pyle Are weary of expecting me. Else I Could stay a year, and never all that while My minde have on my house, or Family. So much I taken am with your discourse. But let my Present be some Monument. To Ithaca I'll never carry horse, They for the Plains are more convenient. Large Plains, which you have here in many places, And where store is of Wheat, and Rice, and Lore. In Ithaca there is no ground for races, Nor Pastures good enough to feed a Goat. In th'Isles about it, gallop can no Horse. In th'Isle it self, nor gallop, nor be fed. When he had made an end of his discourse, Atrides smiling on him stroak'd his head. 'Tis spoken, said he, like a gallant man, And that descended is of Noble bloud. I'll give you other Presents (for I can) In place of these, that shall be full as good. A Monument kept in my Treasury, Of massie silver a fair Temperer, The work of Vulcan, which was given me At Sidon, by the King, when I was there

Whilst they together thus discoursing staid, The bidden Guests, fat sheep, rich wine bring in, And bread their Wives upon the Tables laid, And about Supper busie were within. And now the Suiters at Ulysses house Were throwing of the Stone and Darts. And by Antinous sat and Eurymachus Chief of the Woo'rs. Then came Neomon nigh. Unto Antinous he spake, and said, When will Telemachus return from P••le? My ship I lent him, and am now afraid, I shall have need of her my self the while. For over into Elis I must pass. Twelve Mares of mine there go, and with the same Twelve unbroke Mules, with all their Foals, at grass. And some of them I would fetch home and tame, At this they star'd. For never dreamed they That in good earnest he would go to Pyle, But in the fields would with some Her••sman stay, And there from us conceal himself a while. Antinous then askt, When parted he? What company went with him hence? His own Servants and Husbandmen (for that m••ght be) Or youngmen of the best accounti'••h 'Town? And tell me further, was it willingly You lent your ship? or were you fore't thereto? To this Noemon did again reply, I lent it willingly. What should I do? Who would not yield to such a man's request (When he has need and asks) as well as I? And with him went of Ithaca the best, And Mentor chief of all the company. If he it were not, 'twas some Deity. For (which is strange) I saw him yesterday Before the Sun was mounted half the sky. Yet went the ship the night before away. This said, he went his way. Antinous And th'other sate there yet, and wondered. The Suiters left their sport, sat down, and thus Antinous the Case then opened,

And in an angry tone, with fiery eye, 'Tis true, said he, Telemachus has done A work to us of great indignity. We thought he never could that way have gone. We many are, and men. Yet he a Boy Has got a ship, and of our men the best. But may Jove him, before he us destroy. Give me a good ship, e'r we be opprest, And twenty able men. And in the Strait 'Twixt Ithaca and Same I will lie, And for their coming back from Pylus wait, And entertain him with hot coming by. The Suiters all were pleased with the Plot, And then they 'rose together and went in. But Medon had heard all. Which they knew not. For he without the Court was, they within. And to inform Penelope he went, And when she saw him coming in a door, Medon, said she, what are you hither sent To bid my Maids trouble themselves no more, With how the Suiters they shall entertain; But onely for themselves make ready meat? Lest when they hither come to sup again, It prove the last that they shall ever eat. Telemachus his wealth you wasted have, As if your Fathers never told you how Ulysses with them did himself behave That never did unkindness to them shew In Deed or Word. Although a liberty Kings often take, one man to love or hate Above another, without telling why. But he cause of offence to no man gave, But of good turns received heretofore Your nature altogether senseless is. O Queen, said Medon, would it were no more. But I must tell you somewhat worse than this. The Suiters have conspir'd to kill your Son (Which Jove avert) as he is coming home. For he to Pylus is and Sparta gone T'enquire what of his Father is become.

This said, Penelope was stricken dumb, And filled were with tears her eyes. But when Her voice at last again was to her come, She spake to Medon, and him asked then. Medon, said she, why went my Son away? What need had he upon the Sea to ride? Meant he his name amongst men to destroy? And Medon to her then again repli'd, I cannot tell. Perhaps encouraged By some o'th' Gods, or Presage of his own T'enquire about his Father whether dead, Or on what Coast he is by fortune thrown. This said, her tears she could no longe•• hold, And lets her self sink down upon the Sill. Then came her Maids about her, young and old. Did ever Gods, said she, bear such ill will To any woman as they bear to me? Why deal they with me worse than with the rest? O my dear Husband! What a man was he! All manly vertues lodged in his breast. Through Hellas and through Argos known was he. Of him the Gods unkind me first berest. And now away my Child must taken be That to sustain the House at home was left. Sluts that you are, and of his going knew, Why was it not to me discovered? For had I of it been inform'd by you, I had him stai'd, or he had left me dead. To Dolius let one or other go (The Servant which my Father gave to me, And with Laertes at the Lodge is now, And of my Garden has the custody) And tell him what the Suiters are about. That he may to Laertes tell the same; And he unto the people may come ou••, And them against these wicked men ••nflame. Then spake Euryclea. Dear Child, said she, Kill me, or let me live as you think best; No longer shall the truth concealed be I knew all this. So did none of the rest.

I furnish'd him with all that he commanded, Sweet Wine and Flour. But first he made me swe•• I would not tell you till it was demanded, Or that the same by others told you were; For fear lest with much weeping hurt you take. But wash, put on clean Garments, and up go Into your Chamber, and your Prayers make To Pallas, who your Son to save knows how. The griev'd old man, why should you further grieve? Hated is not Arcesius his seed By all the Gods. For I cannot believe But some of them will help them in their need, And both their Houses and their Lands protect. This stopp'd her sobbing, and her weeping staid. Then went she up, her self she washt and deckt, And to the Goddess Pallas thus she prai'd. O Goddess, if you well accepted have The Victims by Ulysses sacrificed Upon your Altar here, his Son now save, And bring to nought what th'Wooers have devised: Her Prayer granted was. Then shouted they. The Suiters heard it in the Hall, and one T'another said, 'Tis for her Wedding-day. She knows not we intend to kill her Son. Thus said they, but upon no ground at all. Alcinous then spake. Madmen, said he, Such words as these what mean you to let fall? What if within they should reported be? Come rise, thus, gently, and the work effect To which we all have given our consent. Then did he twenty able men elect, And down unto the water-side they went, And first of all they laid their ship afloat, And in it with white Sails the Mast they laid, And fit their Oars. Then in their Arms were brought. The Mast then rear'd was, and the Sails di••plaid. Then went they t'Anchor in the open Sea, And staid till night. And then abo••rd they cat. Then to her Chamber went Penelope Grieving, and tasting neither drink nor meat,

Casting about whether more likely 'twere Her Son should scape, the Suiters hands, or die. Just as a Lion that enclosed were With Toils about, would cast which way to fly. When her sad reck'ning sleep had blotted out. Dissolv'd her strength, and closed had her eyes, Pallas another bus'ness went about. She made an Idol in a womans guise, Like to the Daughter of Icarius Wife of Eumelus (at Pherae dwelled he) And sent the same unto Ulysses house, T'allay the sorrow of Penelope. In at the Key-hole then the Idol goes Into her Chamber, and stood at her head. Penelope, said it, amidst such woes How can you sleep? But now be comforted. You must no longer weep nor grieved be. For from the Gods you no such cause shall have. For of your Son the safe return you'll see. To this Penelope then answer gave. Sister, said she, 'tis strange to see you here. You come but seldom. For far off you dwell. And now you bid me weeping to forbear, When how much cause I have you cannot tell. A good and noble Husband I have lost That had a Lions heart within his brest. Hellas and Argos of his valour boast. What vertue is there that he not possest? And now my Child at Sea is in a Tub, And has no skill in Fight or Parlament. I fear extreamly lest he meet some rub. For him more than for th'other I lament. What may besal him on the Sea I dread; And what at Land, if e'r to Land he come. For many Foes he hath that wish him dead, And wait to kill him as he cometh home. To this again repl••'d the Idol dim, Take courage, be not frighted for your Son. He has a guide that taketh care of him. A better would be wished for by none.

Tis Pallas. For of you she pitty takes. And what I said, I said by her Command. Penelope again this answer makes, Who ere you be, answer one more demand. Is my poor Husband yet alive, or no? Then said the Idol, That I do not finde. Nor will I tell you what I do not know. Then through the Key-hole went, and turn'd to wind. Then wak't Penelope, and joyful was T'have had a dream so evident and clear. Then o'r the humid Plain the Suiters pass, Destruction to Telemachus to bear. 'Twixt Ithaca and Same, middle way, There lies an Island, and but small it is, Yet hath it on each side a good safe Bay. There watcht the Wooers. 'Tis call'd Asteris.

LIB. V.

UP rose Aurora from Tithonus bed, Before the Gods and men to bear her light. The Gods were then to Counsel gathered, And Jove amongst them, of the greatest might▪ And there before them Pallas open laid The painful life Ulysses did endure. O Jove, and all ye blessed Gods (she said) Henceforth his people let no King enure To gentle Government, but keep them down, And to their honesty no longer trust, That of Ulysses are forgetful grown, Whose Government so gentle was and just. And now he pent up lieth in an Isle Where dwells Calypso; and to come away

Has neither Ship nor men, and all the while Weeping for sorrow forc'd he is to stay. The Suiters also seek to kill his Son, And lie to meet him in his coming home. For why, to Pyle and Spart•• he is gone, To hear what of his Father is become. Why Child (said Jove) why say you this to me? 'Twas you that sent Telemachus away. And you consenting were to our decree, Ulysses should come back and th'Wocers flay. Go you and bring Telemachus from Pyle, And send the Suiters home that lie in's way. And Mercury (said he) go you the whi••e And tell the Nymph Calypso what I say. The Gods in Councel sitting order'd have, Ulysses shall return to Ithaca. And first upon a Raft himself shall save, Without a Convoy in Phaeacia In twenty days; and there be honoured, And to his Country richly sent away, With Brass and Gold, and Garments furnished, More than his share had mounted to at Troy, Though he had brought it thence all safely home. For why, by destiny ordain'd it is That to his friends he honourably come. No sooner Jupiter had spoken this, But that his shooes upon his feet he binds, Ambrosian, Golden Shooes, wherewith he flies On Land or Water, swifter than the winds. Then takes the Rod wherewith upon the eyes Of Mortals, he lays on or takes off sleep, And with his Rod in hand jumpt down to th'Hill Pierius, and thence into the Deep. And over the wide Sea he passed, till At last he was arrived at the Isle Where was the Nymph Calypso resident. And like a Cormorant was all this while That hunts the Fishes. Then ashore he went. And coming to her Rock found her within. Upon the hearth a fire was of sweet wood.

There did she sing, and as she sung did spin. About the Cave many fair Trees there stood. Beech, Poplar, and the Cypress of sweet smell; And many Birds, Hawks, and Sea-crows and Owls Within their branches used were to dwell; And (such as haunt Sea-water) other Fowls. The Rock it self with Vines was covered, And Grapes abundance hanging were thereon! Four Springs arow four ways clear water spread. Sweet Meadows were about it many a one Stuck full of Violets and flowers gay, Which though a God, he saw with admiration, And for a little while he there did stay Pleas'd with the beauty of the habitation. And then into the spacious Cave he goes. At the first fight Calypso knew him well. For perfectly one God another knows, How far soever they asunder dwell. Ulysses now was gone out to the shore, To look upon the Sea that kept him in, To sigh and weep as he had done before. At Hermes coming he was not within. To Hermes seated in a glistering Chair The Goddess fair Calypso then begun. Tell me beloved Hermes your affair. If it be possible it shall be done. Come nearer, and with food your self restore. Then sets she him a Table, and lays on Of Nectar and Ambrosia good store. Then Hermes took his food, and having done, Goddess (said he) since me (a God) you ask, You may be sure I tell you shall no lie. Jove sent me'gainst my will. For such a task Who undertake would, think you, willingly? For first a horrible long journey 'tis; And then no Town to bait at by the way On Hecatomb or lesser Sacrifice. But what God is there dares Jove disobey? There is, said Jove, a man th•••• staid is here Of th' Argives that besieged Ilium

The most unhappy. There they staid nine year. The tenth they took it, and were coming home. But by the way they Fallas had offended. And she against them raised stormy weather, In wh••ch Ulysses Mates their lives all ended. But he himself by storms was driven hither: Him Jupiter would have you send away. For he is destin'd not to die from home, Nor any longer from his friends to stay. But back unto his house and Country come. Calypso troubled at it answered, Malicious ye Gods, and jealous are, That think much Goddesses should Mortals wed. See but how hardly did Orion fare, After Aurora was become his wife. How angry at him, O ye Gods, were you, Until Diana took away his life, With Shasts invisible before 'twas due. And so when Ceres with Iäsion Themselves delighted with the gift of love, How soon it was by th'other Gods made known, And with a Thunder-bolt he slain by Jove! And now they angry are with me. And why? Becaue I taken have a man to bed Who in the Sea had perish'd, had not I Receiv'd him in my house and cherished. For when his Ship with Thunder Jove had split, And all his Company away were cast, Him on the Mast unto the Rudder knit, The wind and waves brought hither at the last. And here I him receiv'd and loved well, And meant to give him Immortality. But since Jove will not let h••m with me dwell, And I cannot resist him, Farewel he. Eur o'r the Sea I shall not him convoy. For in my power I have no Ship, nor men That have the art to walk in liquid way. Prompt him I will how to get home agen. 'Tis well, said Mercury, send him now hence. The manner how, is left unto your will.

Be wise, and do not Jupiter incense, Lest he upon you bring a greater ill. This said, away went Mercury. And she Unto Ulysses went to the Sea-side. Himself lamenting sitting there was he. And when she came his eyes were not yet dri'd. For now he lov'd the Nymph less than before, And lay with her a-nights unwillingly. A days he weeping sat upon the shore, And on th'unbounded Sea oft cast his eye. Then to him said the Nymph, Poor man, alas, No longer weep, but fall your work unto. For on a Raft you are the Sea to pass, And I will tell you what you are to do. Cut down great trees, and them together joyn With bands of brass, and on them make a Deck: And on it I will lay both Bread and Wine And water fresh, hunger and thirst to check. And Garments I will give you and a Wind, That you may safe go home and speedily; Unless the Gods be of another minde. For stronger they and wifer are than I. At this Ulysses troubled was and said, Plooked for a Convoy me to waft. For on this Sea a man would be afraid Though in a ship; much more upon a Raft. I will not therefore pass upon a Raft Unless to do me no more hurt you swear. And when he had said that, Calypso laught, And of his head she stroaked down the hair. You are (said she) a true bird of the nest, As by your answer very well I see. By Heaven and by Earth I do protest, And Styx, which is the greatest Oath can be, I'll never any thing hereafter do That shall procure you hurt in any case. And what at present I advise you to, I would my self do, were I in your place. For why, the Fates I also must obey, And in my breast no Iron heart I bear.

This said, she turn'd and homeward tool•• her way, And on her steps Ulysses follow'd her. When they were come together in the Cave, She made him sit where Hermes sat before. And meat and wine the best that Morta••s have The Maids upon the Table laid good store. Before Calypso they laid other meat, Ambrosia and Nectar, food divine. There face to face they sit, and drink and eat. When she refresht him had with meat and wine, Noble Ulysses (said she) that long so To see your House and Wife without delay, If what you were to suffer you did know Before you there arrived, you would stay And live with me here, and Immortal be. Nor than that Wife for whom you take such care Less fairer or less wise can you think me. Women with Goddesses cannot compare. Goddess (said he again) I know all this. Penelope I not compare with you In form or stature. For she mortal is, And you Immortal. Yet (though this be true) I cannot chuse but wish my self at home. And though I were to perish in the Deep By th'anger of the Gods, and never come, I'd rather suffer that, than always weep. For patience long since I learned have Sufficiently in tempest and in fight. This said, they both in one part of the Cave To sleep went, where in Love they took delight. And when the morning was again displa••'d, Ulysses cloath'd himself with Cloak and Coat. The Nymph her self in a great Robe arrai'd Of dainty stuff with Gold all over wrought, Which on her loins a golden Girdle ti'd, And cover'd with a golden Scarf her head. And how Ulysses o'r the Sea so wide Should safely pass, she there considered. Then puts a Plainer and an Axe in's hand Two edged, with a Haft of Olive-tree.

Then shew'd him where the greatest Trees did stand; And all the way before him walked she. And when they were arrived at the Wood, Beeches they finde, Poplars; and Fir-trees high Already dry, that lie light on the Flood. Calypso to her Cavern back did hie. Mean while Ulysses twenty Trees brought low, And hewed them, and plain'd them skilfully, And laid them on the ground all in a row, At corners square, and of one length they lie. And then wi••h Wimbles back Calypso came. Then pierced them, and set them one to one. And with strong joynts and nails fast bound the same. And by the time that all this he had done, As a good ship as broad it was and long. Then for his D••cks he placed stoops upright On every side, and many to be strong; And laid upon them planks at equal height. Then made his Mast, and set ït up on end, His Rudder, and a place to sit and guide, And laid on boughs from waves it to defend, And all his Cordage made of good Cow-hide. And then with Levers set his Raft afloat. Four days in making of the Raft he spent. When he had done, and all his work had wrought, Upon the fifth the Nymph away him sent. But first she bath'd him, and with clothes arrai'd Fine and perfum'd. Then wine of pleasant taste One Goat-skin full upon the Raft she laid, And one of water, greater, by it plac'd. And Sweet-meats, and good flesh of ev'ry kind. And after he his Sails had hoist and spread, She fill'd them with a warm and chearful wind. Then he astern sate down and governed. And on Bootes look'd and Pleiades, And on the Bear, which people call the Wain, Which dogs Orion rising from the Seas. But she her self ne'r dives into the Main. This Btar she bad him leave on the left hand. Then seventeen days he sail'd, on th'eighteenth day

He came in sight of the Phaeacian Land In that part where it nearest to him lay. Which look'd as 'twere upon the Sea a skin. But now by Neptune, who returning was, Ulysses Raft from Solymi, was seen. For o'r those Mountains Neptune was to pass. Who wounded at the sight, with anger keen, Thus said unto himself, What, what, ••f finde While I in Ethiopia have been The Gods about this man have chang'd their mind•• The Isle Phaeacia is near at hand, In which he destin'd is himself to save. But yet, I think, before he be on Land He struggle shall with many a lusty Wave. Then with his Trident he the Sea enraged, And made a night of Clouds the Sea upon, And 'gainst Ulysses all the Winds engaged, And from their Quarters they came out each one, Eurus, and Notus, Zephyr, Boreas, Each one a mighty wave against him roll'd. And then Ulysses heart near broken war, And with himself, himself he thus condol'd. Ay me, what will-become of me at last! I fear the Nymph Calypso all this knew, Who told me then that as I homeward past I should meet danger. Now I finde it true. With what thick Clouds Jove cover'd has the sky! In what a tumult is the Sea! And how On ev'ry side the Winds the Water ply And storm! My death (I see) is certain now. Thrice, four times (Argives) happy were you, who. For Agamemnon's sake were slain. Would I At Troy in Battle my life lost had too, I'th'show'r of Spears about Achilles Body. Then had I had a noble Funeral, And great among the Greeks had been my Fame. But now a wretched death will me befal. For ever will unheard-of be my name. This said, he dasht was 'gainst a point of Land, Which with great force whirled the Raft about.

And then the Rudder flew out of his hand; And he into the water was cast out. Of divers Winds then follow'd one great blast, And Sail and Tackle o'r-board far off bears, And in the middle breaks in two the Mast, While he was in the Sea o'r head and ears. At last he rais'd his head above the pickle (His heavy Clothes a while had hindred him) Then from his hair into his mouth did trickle The brine, which he spits out, and falls to swim. And when he had his Raft recovered, And plac'd himself i'th'midst; then both together The wind uncertainly them carried From place to place, now hither and now thither. Just as the wind in Harvest blows Pease-straw Upon the plain field whilst it holds together; So on the Sea without a certain Law Ulysses Raft was driven by the weather. In this distress by Ino he was seen A Sea-nymph and Immortal she was then, Though Woman (Cadmus Daughter) she had been. And now in figure of a Water-hen, She sat upon the Raft and to him spake. What meaneth Neptune that he hates you so? Do what he can your life he shall not take; Do what I bid you. Off your Garments throw, And quit the Raft. And to Phaeacia Swim with your hands. And there you shall finde rest. For so it is ordain'd by fatal Law. Here take this Scarf. Apply it to your breast. And fear not death. But when you come to Land Throw't in the Sea as far off as you can. Then turn. This said, she put it in his hand, And diving there alone she left the man. Ulysses grieving to himself then says, What is it now I am advis'd unto! Ay me! Some other God now me betrays, To quit my Raft. I know what I will do. For since my refuge is so near at hand, Such Counsel I will not too soon obey.

But do what does with greatest reason stand. Upon my Raft I mean so long to stay As it shall hold together and be one. But when the wind has broken it in pieces I'll swim; since better counsel I have none. While with himself consulting was Ulysses, Neptune with wind the water sets upright Into a high and formidable wave, And threw it on the Raft with all his might, Which all the parts thereof asunder drave. Just as the wind scatters a cock of hay, So scatter'd was Ulysses Raft of Trees. Whilst he on one of them astride did slay, And of his Garments there himself he frees. Then Ino's Scarf applies he to his breast, And on the troubled Sea himself he laid With open arms. To swim he now thought best. Which Neptune seeing, thus unto him said, Go wander now upon the Sea in woe, And do not make account that this is all. This said, away to Aegae did he go, Where many men that need him, on him call. When he was gone Pallas the Winds did lay All but a lusty gale of Boreas, And broke the waves before him all the way, That to Phaeacia he might safely pass. Two nights and days perpetual he swam, And was of drowning all the while afraid. But when the morning of the third day came, The air was calm, and all the winds allai'd. And now unto the Isle he was so nigh, That from a high Wave he could see the shore. And glad he was. As when about to die Li'n has a man long time by sickness sore, Is by the Gods recover'd suddenly, Glad are his Children; so Ulysses was To see the so much wish'd-for Land so nigh, And thither made what haste he could to pass. When he was gotten so near to the shore That one might hear another when he calls,

Torn by the Rocks he heard the water rore. (Loud is the Sea when on hard Rocks it falls.) There neither Haven was nor place to land, But upright Banks and Cliffs, and brows of stone. And every where too deep it was to stand. And now again quite was his courage gone, And speaking to himself he said, Ay me, This is the Island. Jove has brought me to't, That what must help me onely I might see, But not upon it ever set my foot. There is no landing here. Rocks high and steep, And unaccessible are all about. The Sea below so rugged is and deep, That from it there will be no getting out. If I should try, some mighty wave, I fear, Against some rugged Rock will carry me, And make me finde but woful landing there Amongst so many sharp stones as there be. But if I swim along the Coast to finde Some Port or Beach though stormy to land on, I fear I shall again by some great wind Far off from shore into the Sea be blown; And there by some great fish devoured be (For many such are fed by Amphitrite) Which Neptune may command to swallow me. For well I am acquainted with his spite. While he thus doubted, came a mighty Wave That cast him to the Bank amongst sharp stones. But for the Counsel Pallas to him gave, He torn his skin and broken had his bones. A Rocher with his arms he then im••rac't And held it till the Wave roll'd back again; And thought the danger of it now was past. But then the same Wave bore him to the Main. As looks a Polypus when he is dragg'd From out his hole, stuck full of stone and sands; So, when Ulysses left his hold, were shag'd With broken skin all over both his hands. And now, had not Athena giv'n him wit He perisht had. For up his head he puts

Above the briny Sea, and having spit He with his stretched arms the water outs. And swam along the shore; but kept his eye Continually upon the Land, to see If any landing place he could espy. At last before a Rivers mouth came he; And knew it was a Rivers mouth. For there Within the Land smooth water might be seen, And 'twixt the Rocks a pause there did appear. And here Ulysses thought fit to go in. And in his minde unto the River spake. Hear me, O King, from Neptune's rage I fly, And of a man distrest some pitty take, That at your Knee and Stream here prostrate lie. Th'Immortal Gods their Suppliants respect, When they before them humbly lay their want. What ere your name be, do not me neglect That am afflicted, and your Suppliant. This said, the stream stood still and sav'd the man. But weary were his knees and arms. And Brine Abundance from his Mouth and Nostrils ran. And all his body swell'd was. And in fine Speechless and breathless was he like or••e dead. But when he came unto himself again The Scarf he to the Stream delivered, Which carried it aga••n into the Main. And Ino took it then into her hand. Then on a Bulrush-bed himself he la••d, And glad he had escaped, kist the Land. But fearing still unto himself he said, Ay me, what will become of me at length? For in the River if I spend the night, So much already wasted is my strength, With frost and dew I shall be killed quite. If up the Hill I go into the Wood, And in some Thicket there lie warm and sleep, I fear I shall for Beasts and Fowls be food. At last concludes into some Wood to creep. A Wood there was unto the River nigh; Two Thickets in it were; of Olive one,

The other was of Phylia close by, So twin'd they were together that not Sun, Nor Wind, nor Rain to th'ground could find a way. Between them of dry leaves a bed made he, And over head and ears there close he lay. For leaves there were enough for two or three, To keep them warm although cold weather 'twere. As when a man takes up a brand of fire In Country-house, few neigh••ours dwelling near, To warm himself withal if need require; So buried in dry leaves Ulysses lay. And then Athena closed up his eyes With sound and gentle sleep to take away Sad thoughts suggested by his miseries.

LIB. VI.

THere slept Ulysses. But Athena went Unto the people of Phaeacia, Who once dwelt near a Nation insolent, The great Cyclopses in Hyperia, And by the odds of strength were there opprest. But by Nausithous transplanted were To Scheria, that they might live at rest. Who built thēm houses, and a City there, And fortifi'd the same with strong walls round, And Temples built, and gave them shares of land. But he departed was, and under ground. And now Alcinous had the Command. His house it was the Goddess went unto, And int'a Chamber gay (where lay abed A Godlike Maid asleep) with less ado Than could a gentle wind have entered.

This the Kings Daughter was Nausicaa. Within the door shut close, on each side one, Two of her Waiting-maids asleep she saw, And as the Graces fair to look upon. Then standing at Nausicaa's Beds-head, In form of Dymas Daughter, there she stai'd, Who of her age was, and most favoured, And to Nausicaa she spake, and said, Careless Nausicaa, what do you mean, When to your Wedding-day you are so near, To let so many Garments lie unclean? You would be glad your self fair clothes to wear, And give to them that are to lead you out. For even such things as these procure good fame Amongst the people that dwell round about. Your Parents also take joy in the same. Come therefore, to the River let's be gone By break of day; For I will with you go, And help, that you the sooner may have done. I'm sure your Wedding is not far off now. For sought you are in Marri'ge by the best Of all the Town where you were born and bred. Go early to your Father and request You may with Mules and Coach be furnished. That Aprons, Gowns, and Mantles you may bear Unto the washing place. For far 'tis to't, And for your person so 'tis comelier Than to be seen to go so far on foot. This said, the Goddess up to Heaven went, Where is the dwelling of the Gods in bliss. A pure and undecaying Firmament Which by no wind moved or shaken is, Nor wet nor slabber'd is with showr of Rain, Nor clouded, nor approacht unto by Snow; But bright and shining always doth remain. Here dwel•• th'Immortals, and no sorrow know. Thither went Pallas. Then Nausicaa Awak'd, and through the house went to relate Unto her Parents what a Dream she saw. Her Mother by the fire-side spinning sate

With distaff laden with fine purple-wool. Her Father going out, she met i'th'Hall, Call'd by the Lords sitting in Councel full, And waiting for him to consult withal. And to him said, Pray Father shall not I Allowed be a Coach your Clothes to bear (Which in the house sulli'd and spotted lie) Unto the River-side to wash them there? For you your self when you to Councel go Would gladly have your Garments clean & sweet. Your five Sons, whereof two be wedded now, Would fain with clean Clothes at the Dancings meet. So said Nausicaa. But to her Father To talk of Wedding she forbore for shame. Yet what she thought on he could eas'ly gather, However she dissembled had the same. Dear Child (then said her Father) you shall have Both Mules and Coach with handsome covering. Unto his Servants then command he gave To see it done. And out the Coach they bring, And to it set the Mules. Then came her Mother, And laid in things to eat, of relish fine, And such as eaten are with bread, much other; And in a bag of Goat-skin pleasant wine. When in the Coach the Garments all were plac't Nausicaa went up into her seat, And with her took (when their toil should be past) A cruse of Oyl to help wash off the sweat. Then out, with whip and reins in hand did drive. And then with strained limbs and clatt'ring feet The Mules soon at the River side arrive, And pasture for them there was very sweet. And there the Mules first they unharnassed, Then pusht them off to graze on the Bank-side. The Clothes in Pits with water covered They tread, and who shall fastest tread, they vi'd. Then on the Beach the Garments wet they spread Upon the cast-up Pibbles one by one. Then washed they and dri'd themselves, and fed; And left the Garments drying in the Sun.

And after they with food were fatisfi'd, It came into their mindes to play at Ball, And spend the time so till the clothes were dri'd. The tune, Nausicaa sung for them all. As when upon Mount Erymanthus high Or on Taygetus stands Artemis, And many Rural fair Nymphs playing by. But she than all the rest much taller is: And the wild Boars and Harts delights to see, But more her Mother Leda to see her, For though they fair were all, yet fairer she; So shew'd Nausicaa and her Maidens there. And when 'twas time that they should homewards go, And that the Clothes into the Coach were laid, And Mules set to, Athena thought on how Ulysses should awake and see the Maid, And be conducted by her to the Town. Nausicaa then throws the Ball and misses; ; The Ball unto the River falleth down. Then shout the Maids. At that awakt Ulysses. And sitting up unto himself he said, Ay me, where am I now? 'Mongst men unjust, And such as of the Gods are not afraid? Or good and godly men, whom I may trust? But female a e the voices which I hear. Are they some Nymphs that haunt the Mountains high, Or keep the Meadows green, or Waters clear, Or are they Mortals whom I am so nigh? But why go I not out my self and see? Then with strong hand he wringed off 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bough With many leaves upon it from a Tree, To cover what became him not to show. Then as a Lion confident and bold, Howe'r it blow or rain with fiery eyes Comes from the Mountain to a Herd or Fold, And on the flock at last his fortune trie••; So came Ulysses boldly from the Wood Stark naked, forc'd to't by necessity, And in the presence of the Maidens stood. The sight was terrible and made them fly.

Nausicaa fled not, but hid her eyes. Off stood Ulysses with himself to weigh Whether to speak from thence was the more wise, Or else himself before her feet to lay. To stay there right at last resolved he, Lest she should take his coming near her ill. Then said, O Queen, I beg upon my knee That you with patience hear my Prayer will. You are a Goddess, or of Humane race. If Goddess, you can then no other be Than Artemis Jove's Daughter. In your face. Such beauty is; in height such Majesty. If mortal, and of Humane race you be, Thrice happy are your Parents and your Brothers How glad in the Processions they will see, How much they are more grac'd by you than o∣thers. For such a branch I ne'r saw with my eyes On mortal stock. To see't I am amazed. But once a Palm at Delus saw arise In the same manner, and long on it gazed. (For that way went I once well followed, Which the first cause was of my trouble sore) And then, as I do now, I wondered, For I had never seen the like before. T'approach unto your knees I was afraid, Or shew my self. But such is my Estate. For twenty days upon the Sea I stra••'d, And here in storms was th••own ashore by Fate From th'Isle Ogygia last night, and fear I am to suffer yet more misery, And that the Gods will persecute me here. And since my landing you the first I see. Now p••tty me, O Queen, and shew me where The City stands. And t'hide my n••kedness Give me some rag if there be any here And may Jove you with all you wish 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bless, A Husband and a House, and Conco•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉. For man and wife to live in unit•••• Is the great'st blessing can be understood. It joys your Friend, and grieves your Enemy.

Nausicaa then speaks, and to him says, You seem to be a good man and discreet, But Jove on good and bad such fortune lays, Happy or otherwise as he thinks mee••. And since distress is fallen to your share, You must contented be to suffer it. But seeing to this place a••riv'd you are, You shall have Rayment, and what else is fir. The City I will shew you, and the name The people of this Isle are called by. Pheacians they are call'd. And I am Daughter of him that has th'authority, Alcinous the King. And then she cri'd Aloud unto the Maids to make them stay. Why (said she) run you so away and hide? D'ye think the man will carry you away? For why, no Enemy can come in hither, The Gods so with the Sea have wall'd us in. Nor stranger dwells here. But by evil weather To come to land this man hath forced been. Let's do him good. From Jove come Beggars all. And welcome to them is whate'r they get. Our givings to him will be very small. Go therefore set before him Wine and Meat, And wash him in the River, in such part As cover'd is from wind. And then they did (When they had given one another heart) Set him in such a place as they were bid. And gave him th'Oyl to scour his skin withal, And by him a good Cloak and Coat they laid, And then they bad him to his washing fall. Ulysses answer'd then, and to them sa••d, Stand further off, I pray fair Maids; for I My body naked am asham'd to show. Then stand they off, and tell their Mistress why. (For washing he must have put off his bough.) Then wash•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his head and shoulders wide, And with his hand from's head stroak'd down the brine, And with the Clothes that laid were by his side Arrai'd himself, that comely were and fine.

Then Pallas to him came, and made him look Taller and broader than he was before; And from his Hair the colour gray she took, And made it like the Hyacynthine flower. As one by Vulcan or Athena taught Gold upon Silver skilfully had spread; So Pallas on Ulysses beauty wrought, And graceful Majesty upon his head. Then sat he on the Sands. Nausicaa Then said unto her Maidens, Do you hear, How poor he look'd the first time we him saw. And now how like a God he does appear. And by the Gods, it may be, he was sent To dwell amongst the people of this place. With such a Husband I could be content (If he would stay) and think it no disgrace. Go Maids and set before him Wine and Meat. Away they went, and did as she them bad. And he fell to, and heartily did eat. For long before he nothing eaten had. Then harnessed the Mules and set them to, And folded and put up the Garments all. Nausicaa went up with Maidens two. And then unto Ulysses did she call. Rise, Stranger to the City let us go, That I may send you to my Fathers house, Where all the best Phaeacians you'll know. But hear you (for I think you cautelous.) Whilst in the Fields the Coach is on the way, Amongst my Maidens follow it apace. But when you see it neer the City, stay. And that you may well understand the place, A Tow'r there is, you'll see it, for 'tis high. There 'twixt two Havens is a narrow way, You'll see it by the Masts, for Ships there lie. Near it the people meet o'th'Market-day. And there a Temple fair of Neptune stands, Of free-stone from the Quarry hewn and fit. For the Phaeacians imploy their hands On Shipping, and no other art but it.

For Bows and Arrows they care not a pin, But for such things as serve to pass the Seas. Ships, Cordage, Oars th••y take their pleasure in, And spend their time and labour upon these. I am afraid these men will censure me, And say (for Censurers are many here) This handsome and tall fellow who is he, That's with Nausicaa, from God knows where? Where did she find him; Must he marry her? From some far Country he is landed here Wandring by Fortune, or a Traveller. For sure I am no such man dwelleth neer. May be some God from Heav'n descenc'ed is, And to live with her always hither come, So, then to wed a Stra••ger better 'tis, Since she thinks none is good enough at home. For many seek her, and the best men here. So will they say, and 'twill be to my shame. For if another that had done it 'twere, I should my self condemn her fo•• the same, For 'tis unseemly a fair Maid to see, That subject is t'her Parents Government, Converse with any man, unless she be First married, or their Parents give consent. And therefore, Stranger, if you mean to be Convoyed by my Father to your home, Do a•• I tell you. Near the way you'll see A Grove of Poplars. When you thither come You'll finde my Father's Vineyard, from the Town As far as one that Holla's heard can be, And when you thither come, there sit you down Till at my Fathers house you think are we. Then to the City go; ask where does dwell Alcinous. For you shall meet with none, Though but a Child, but can inform you well. So well his house is known to every one. And there go in, and on, until you finde My Mother. Whom you'll by the fire side see Spinning; and Maids at the same work behinde The Pillar under which sits working she.

My Fathers Chair by the same Pillar stands Where, when he drinketh, like a God he is. Pass by it to my Mother, and your hands, If you mean to get home, lay on her knees. If once her favour you can but obtain, You need not fear, but you your friends shall see, And to your house and Country come again. This said, her Whip upon the Mules laid she. The Mules start swiftly from the Rivers side, For nimble was the motion of their feet. But she for those who went afoot, did guide The swiftness of their pace as she thought meet. When they were come t'Athena's sacred Grove, The Sun went down; and there Ulysses staid And to the Goddess, Daughter of Great Jove, That he might good reception finde, he prai'd. Hear me Jove's Virgin daughter, hear me now, Since still you did refuse to help me then, When Neptune sought at Sea my overthrow, Grant that I may be welcome to these men. Thus prai'd he, and was by Athena heard, Though to him face to face she would not come, But of her Unkle Neptune was afear'd, That n••'r forgave him till he was at home.

LIB. VII.

WHilst there he prai'd, Nausicaa went on, And staid her Coach the utter gate without, And like to Gods her Brothers came each From out the house, & her stood round about. (one, The Mules they ••••eed, th'appare' they took in, Nausicaa streight to her Chamber went;

Eurymedusa made a fire therein; Who ta'ne by Rovers on the Continent Was given to the King Alcinous, That like a God was honour'd by the Nation Of the Phaeacians at home. And thus She of Nausicaa had the Education. A fire she made her, and her Supper brought. Ulysses then into the City went. Pallas of air had made him such a Coat, As he could not be seen; lest insolent And sturdy Towns-men should him mock and jear, Or ask him Questions, who, what, or why. But when he was unto the Gate come near, Pallas appeared to him openly, Like a young Maid with Pail upon her head. Ulysses then spake to her, and said thus: Sweet pretty Girl, will you be pleas'd to lead Me to the house of King Alcinous? For I a Stranger come and no man know, Nor ever in my life was here before. Yes (then said Pallas) I will you it show, For 'tis the next unto my Fathers door. Go softly, thus, and I will lead the way. For ou•• folk Strangers do not well indure. But in good Ships their honour wholly lay, And the wide Sea to pass themselves enure. For Neptune given to them has this gift, That their good ships fly like to thought or wind. This sa••d, the Goddess led with motion swift; And on her steps he treading went behind. And through the people so he past unseen For why, the Goddess Pallas, for good will, A wondrou•• mist of Air had wrapt him in. The•• looking at the house he there s••ood still. The Havens and the Ships he wondred at▪ The Market-place, and Walls so thick and high. Then Pallas said, Alcinous house is that. There sup the King and Queen now merrily. Th••ugh you a Stranger be, fear not, go ••n. The bold than fearful always better speed.

And first of all the House you'll find the Queen Arete is her name. Both from one seed Descended are she and Alcinous, In Periboea Child of Eurimedon. The God o'th' Seas begot Nausithous Who two Sons had; Alcinous was one. The other was Rexenor, who no Son But one fair Daughter onely left behind. Arete was her name. Besides her none. Alcinous and she in Wedlock joyn'd. And he to her so much respect doth bear, As no man living to a wife bears more. And honour'd is by all her Children dear. The people like a Goddess her adore, And b'ess her when she comes into the street. And loving to them all is also she. For a wise woman is she and discreet. When they fall out she makes them to agree. If you her favour can but once obrain, You need not fear but you your friends shall see, And safely to your Country come again. And when she this had said, away went she O'r Sea, to Marathon in Attica T'Erecth••us house. And he now was to enter Into the house. But long he laid the Law Unto himself before he would adventure. Entring he saw the Walls lin'd round with brass, And fring'd about with colour of the sky. The door within golden all ove•• was, And all appear'd like Heaven to the eye. The Door-posts Silver glorious to behold, The Lintle-tree upon them silver too. The Sill was brass, the Ring to pull it, Gold. And by the Door great Dogs were standing two. Of silver one, the other was of Gold, As wat••h b••fore the Royal Gate to stay, Immortal Dogs ••hat never can grow old. And round about them all, Thrones every way, All cover'd with a d••inty Stuff and fine. The work of Womens hand. There us'd to eat

The King and Lords, and drink and make good cheat. His R••ches was a never dying Teat. About the Altar were set Boys of Gold That to the Guests, asloon as it was night, With burning Torches they the Light might hold. For now the Sun had born away his light. Fifty Maid-servants were at work within, Some at the Mill were grinding whea: for bread, And others with their Distaves sate to s••in, And others Cloth were weaving with the thread. Like to the Leaves of a high Aspen-tree Their fingers went. So much they did excel In all the works, that taught by Pallas be, The Women that in other places dwell; As do these men all other men surpass In all things that belong to navigation. For Wit and Art more Pallas given has To them, than Women of another Nation. Close by the House a dainty Orchard is Four square and fenc'd with hedge and pale about, Of Pear, Pomegranate, Apple, Ol••ve-trees, And Fig-trees. For the season ne'r goes out Summer nor Winter, for by Zephyrs some Are made put forth, and others ripened; Pears after Pears, apples to apples come; Grapes are by Grapes, Figs by Figs followed. And in it was the Vineyard of the King. Grapes in some places by the Sun were dri'd, In others staid till Vintage ripening. Upon some Vines no flower yet was spi'd. And Grapes on some to blacken now began. Green beds of Herbs there were on ev'ry side; And through it from two Springs the water ran, And to and fro the one did winding glide The other to the house his stream did ••ear, And under ground was to the Town convey'd, And rose a Fountain for the people there. And when Ulysses had all this survey'd, Then went he in, and found them in the Hall Sitting at supper, and to Merc••••y

There offring up of Wine. Which last of all At Bed-time men do offer usually. And on he went up to the King and Queen, And both his hands upon her knee did lay. Pallas had kept him in the Mist unseen. But thither come the Mist streight fell away. Amaz'd they were when first they saw the man. And like to men that had been stricken dumb, Ulysses then t' Arete thus began. O Queen Arete, to your knee I come, And to the King and those that with you sit. May the Gods grant you all much happiness, Long life, and your Possessions to transmit T'your Children, and your Honours still possess; And may you me send presently away Unto my House. Long absent I have been. This said, he sat down by the fire. And they Said nothing, such amazement they were in. At last old Echineus spake, that knew Both what in former times and now was fit. O King Alcinous is't good think you To let the Stranger in the Ashes sit? We silent sat to see what was your will. Pray make him r••se, and to a Chair him bring, And bi•• the Squire to temper Wine and fill, That we to Jove may make our Offering, Who with poor Strangers keepeth company. And bid the Maid before him set such meat As she within has in her custody. This said, Alcinous rose from his seat, T'Ulysses went, and took him by the hand. And to a Chair him led where sat his Son Laodamas, to whom he gave Command To give him place, although he loved none So dearly as he lov'd Laodamas. Who next unto him us'd to sit at meat. Then by a Maid brought in a Bason was And Ewr of Gold, to wash ere he did eat. Another Maid before him layed Bread, And other good things on h••s Ta••le laid,

And heartily thereon Ulysses fed. Alcinous then to the Squire said, Temper the Wine, Pontonous, that we Wine-Offering to Jove may offer up, In whose protection all Suppliants be, And round about presented be the Cup. Then went about the Wine from one to one. And when the Sacred Offering was over, Then said Alcinous, Since we have done, Let's go to bed, and soon as we discover Aurora rising, hither come again, And make unto the Gods a Sacrifice, And this our Stranger farther entertain, And how to send him to his house advise, That safely he may go, and joyfully, And swiftly to the place where he would be, How far soever hence his dwelling lie, Nor on the Sea delay or trouble see Until his Native Country he be at. But what his Fate is after he is there, Be't good or evil he must suffer that. But if it be some God that sitteth here 'Tis only our Devotion t'approve. For to that end Gods let themselves be spi'd, To sit with men at Holy Feasts they love, And not themselves in Caves like Giants hide. To this Ulysses said, O King, lay by That thought of yours. With Gods I'll not compare, For Body or for Mind. Of Misery If man can boast, to boast 'mong them I date. For I more Tokens can produce of VVoe Than any man that shall with me contend, Though all I tell not that I can. Yet so I fain would of my Supper make an end. No Creature is so fierce as is the Gut, And so loud barketh when it is forgot, That out of mind it never can be put, But will be heard whether one will or not. So 'tis with me that am afflicted sore, Yet st••ll my Belly bids me eat and drink,

And forget all I had endur'd before, And on my misery no more to think. And so, since now I hunger to go home, Forget not with a Ship me to supply To morrow. For were I once thither come I could be well contented there to die. When this was said, he was by all commended. He speaks discreetly, let him then, said they A speedy conduct have. When all was ended, The rest unto their Houses went away. Only Ulysses staid, and by him sate The King and Queen. Tables removed were, And all that to the Supper did relate. The Queen then mark'd what Garments he did wear, And that she and her Maids had made them, knew. Stranger, said she, VVho are you? VVhence? & more, The Garments you have on, of whom had you? Had you them on then when you came ashore? Grievous (said he) O Queen is your Command, That calls again (when past it is) my pain. Yet will I answer make to this demand. An Island lieth far hence in the Main, Ogygia 'tis call'd. Calypso there The Daughter fair of Atlas lives alone, Nor God nor Man she has to dwell with her; And I by Fate upon that Isle was thrown. For Jove my good Ship had with Thunder split; My Fellows in the Sea all perished. But I the Rudder had, and held by it. And thus nine days and nights I wandered, And thrown was on that Isle the tenth at night. Calypso there received me and fed; And Immortality have had I might, If I had with her there inhabited. But I to that would never give consent. Yet there by force I stayed seven years (For want of Ship and Men) in discontent, Wash••ng the Clothes she gave me with my tears. The eighth year come, she did my going press, Whether by Jove's command I cannot say,

Or whether 'twere because she lov'd me less. Then on a Raft of Trees I came away. Bread and sweet Wine upon the Deck she laid, And Garments gave me fair, and a good Wind. And good for seventeen days the weather staid. On th'eighteenth near your Coast my self I find. And glad I was, though still unfortunate. For more I was to suffer by and by. For Neptune rais'd against me in his hate, A Storm of Winds with furious Waves and high. And then I forced was the Raft to quit. The Trees asunder floated here and there, The Storm so broken had and scatter'd it. Then swam I. 'Gainst the rocks the waves me bear, And falling off, they cast me back again. Again I swam, and to the River came. And there I saw the landing smooth and pla••n. And from the Wind defended was the same. There landed I half dead, and now 'twas night. Then up I went and in a Thicket lay Cover'd with leaves abundance dry and light. And slept till almost spent was the next day. For then the Sun was setting. There I hear The voice of women playing by the Brook. And going our I saw your Daughter there, That like a Goddess come from heav'n ••••d look. To her I made my Pray'r in this distress. Wisely she answer'd and beyond her age (For th'younger commonly consider less) And gave me food my hunger to asswage. Of her I had the Garments I have on. Nay Stranger (answered Alcinous) 'Twas in my Childe an indiscretion, That she not brought you with her to my house. To this Ulysses answered and sa••d, 'Twas not her fault we came not both together. She bid me I would not, but was afraid What you and they would think that saw me with her. For jealous and mistrustful mortals be. To the again Alcinous repli'd,

From such i'l thoughts I always have been free. O Jove, and Pallas make you here abide. Such are you, and our thoughts so well agree, That you Nausicaa should have for Bride, If you would with me live here willingly, And for your house and w••alth I would provide. But 'gainst your will I will not make you stay. (From such iniquity the Gods me keep) To morrow shall be ready your Convey, And till then go you to your bed and sleep. And here be men, that when the Wind shall fail, Can row you on how far soe'•• you'll go. The•• hands can do as much as any Sail, Although beyond Euboea they must row. For farther no Phoeacian ever went. But thither once they carried Roadamant, Of Tityus to see the punishment, Son of the Earth that terrible Giant, Yet that long voyage cost them but a day Going and coming all the way at ease. But you your self, when you are on the way, Will see how stoutly our men plough the Seas. This said, Ulysses joyful was, and prai'd, Make all this good O Father Jove (said he) The Glory of the King will be displai'd, And quickly in my Country I shall be. Whilst they together thus discoursing staid, Arete bad the Maids to make his bed, And see fair purple Rugs upon it laid, And under them soft woolly Blankets spred. Then went away the Maids into the Porch, And made his Bed, and soon came back agen, And stood before Ulysses with a Torch. Come Stranger, said they, all is ready. Then Ulysses to his Bed went willingly. Alcinous in a room lay far within, Where formerly he used was to lie, That was prepared for him by the Queen.

LIB. VIII.

SOon as Aurora was again espi'd, The King Alcinous rose from his bed. Up rose Ulysses and came to his side. And to the Publike-place the King him led, To sit in Councel with his Princes there, And being there they sat together nigh. Pallas the while that did great favour bear, T'Ulysses welfare always had an eye, In likeness of Alcinous his Squire (Who by his Office did the Councel call) Their favour for Ulysses to acquire, Went through the Streets, and there unto them all Said one by one, Make haste. To Councel go. A Stranger new-come to the King you'll see That like a God Immortal is in show. This said, unto the Councel-House they flee. And filled was the House, and ev'ry Seat, And of his person all admir'd the Grace. For Pallas made him had more tall and great, And laid more Majesty upon his face. To make him welcome to those men she meant, And gain him honour at their Exercises When they should put him to experiment. Alcinous unto them then arises. Hear, said he, Princes of Phaeacia, This Man (who 'tis, or whence, I cannot say, Cast here ashore) till then I never saw. Since 'tis our Custome, grant him a Convoy. For no man yet unto my house did come By force of weather wandring on the Main,

Lamenting and desiring to go home, That can affirm he sought our help in vain. Come then, let's launch a good new Ship, and chuse Out two and fifty lusty Youths to row. And let them ready have their Oars to use, And to my house, when that's done, let them go. And you the Princes thither come with me, That we may well the Stranger entertain. And let the Singer too sent thither be, To give us sometimes of his Art a Strain. This said, the Princes to his house he led. The Squire unto the house the Singer sent. The fifty two as they were ordered Down to the Haven where the ship lay went. The Ship they launch, and up they set the Mast; And then the Yards and Sails they hoised high; Their Oars, where they be placed should, they plac't. This done they let her in the Water lie. Then also to the house went these men up. The Porches, Court, and rooms with men were fill'd Some old, some young. The King to make them sup, Two Kine, eight Swine, & twice six fat Sheep kill'd. These flay'd and dress'd, and to the Tables brought, Came in the Singer, whom the Muses kind Had taught to sing divinely. But, could not Or would not him preserve from being blind. Pontonous the Squire then led him in, And set him by a Pillar in the Hall, And hung his Fiddle o'r him on a Pin, And how to reach it shewed him withal. Sets him a Table and a Basket by, And a great Bowl of Wine before him plac't To drink as often as he should be dry. And when their thirst and hunger was displac't The Singer sung the Song in most request, How once Ulysses and Achilles great In high and bitter language did contest When at a sacred Feast they sate at Meat. And how King Agamemnon pleased was, To see the two best of the Greeks fall out.

For Phoebus told him so 'twould come to pass When he at Pythos asked him about The Issue of the fleet design'd for Troy. This Song Demodocus sung to them then; Which to Ulysses was of little joy; But he his tears to hide before those men Before his eyes his Cloak of purple drew, And when the Singer ceas'd, his eyes he dri'd, And from before his face his Cloak withdrew, And of the Wine perform'd the Sacrifice. And when the Lords call'd for the Song-anew, (For they to hear him took no small delight) His Cloak again before his eyes he drew, And as before again he sob'd and sigh'd. Alcinous, none else, observed it, And well enough could hear him sigh and groan. For he the nearest there did to him sit, And would not to the Princes make it known. But speaking to them all said onely this, Since you with feasting are well satisfi'd, And Musick (which to Feasts annexed is) Let now our mens activity be tri'd, That when the Stranger is where he doth dwell, He to his Friends and Countrymen may tell How much we do all other men excel At Wrestling, Buffets, Leaping, Running well▪ Then went the King and Princes out a door; The Squire then took the Singer by the hand, And hung the Fiddle where it hung before, And him led out amongst the rest to stand. Unto the place they went; and follow'd were By people numberless the sport to see. And many lusty Youths amongst them there, Stood out to shew their great ability. Out stood Elatreus and Acroneus, Eretmeus, Thoon, Nautes, and Prymneus, Ambasineus and Amphialus, Proteus, and Ponteus, and Anchialus. Ocyalus, warlike Euryalus, And he that of them most their eye d••d please

(Except the first Son of Alcinous) For Countenance and Shape Naubolides, And then Alcinous his three Sons rise, Laodamas, Halius, Clitoneus. And first they all contended for the Prize Of who at Running could his Feet best use. Then start they all at once, and swiftly run As if they flew. And here the Victory The Kings Son Noble Clytoneus won, And past them all a lands length very nigh. Euryalus at Wrestling was the best. Amphialus at leaping Victor was. Elatreus surpassed all the rest To throw the Stone. At Cuffs Laodamas. When all was done Laodamas up stood. Come friends, said he, let us the Stranger try If he at any of these Games be good; For in his person no defect I spy. His Thighs, his Knees, his Arms, his Neck are strong. Nor over-aged, yet he seems to me. Only he hath endur'd the Sea so long, As for that cause he may excused be. For than the Sea nothing more potent is To break a man how strong soe'r he be. Go, said Euryalus, 'tis not amiss T••nvite him to it, and his minde to see. Then to Ulysses said Laodamas, Come Stranger, Father. Pray, your vertue show. 'Tis no dishonour for you in this place To shew your skill at any Game you know, As long as Feet and Hands continue strong. Come try, and cast your careful thoughts away. Your Convoy ready is. 'Twill not be long Before you shall be set upon your way. Laodamas (then said Ulysses) why To these your Games invite you me in scorn, Upon whose heart so many sorrows lie, And am to nothing with much hardship worn, And publickly a Suppliant now sit, And to the King and People grief profess?

Think you that Pastimes for such men are fit, As from their Country wander in distress? Then spake Euryalus, uncivilly. No, no, said he, I do not think you are Much us'd to Pastimes of activity, But rather one that of a ship takes care That Merchant-men from place to place conveys, And mindful of your Fraught are, and can tell Which are to sudden wealth the nearest ways, What Merchandize will not, and what will sell, And in such boisterous Games has little skill. Ulysses frowning on him then repli'd, My friend, such words are indiscreet and ill. The Gods their Gifts as they think it divide. To one, of Beauty they deny the grace, But give him Language steddy and discreet, Whereby he honour'd is i'th'Publick Place, And men gaze on him going in the street. T'another they have giv'n a fair aspect; Like that o'th'Gods, but have deni'd him wit. So finde I in your person no defect; Only you want the grace to say what's fit. Your words have put me into passior. In these your Games you say no skill have I. I thought my self inferiour to none Whilst on my youth and hands I could rely. But tamed now my strength is with much woe Wandring at Sea and often hurt in fight. Yet of your Games I'll make a trial so, Weak as I am. So much your words me bite. This said, he took up a much greater stone Than that which the Phaeacians had flung, Nor hollow as a Coyt, his Cloak still on. And when above his head he had it swung, Swiftly away the Stone flew with a hum, Which made the brave Phaeacian Seamen couch, As o'r their heads they heard it singing come, And outwent all the other marks by much. For Pallas in the likeness of a man Did set a mark at where the stone did light,

And said the difference be discerned can By feeling, though a man had lost his fight. And to Ulysses said he, Do not fear That any man i'th'Town shall out-throw this. Ulysses very glad was this to hear, And that amongst them stood one friend of his. Then of himself, began to speak more high. Come Youths throw first as far as I have done, And then as far or further throw will I. And for the other Games come any one Since your sharp words provok't me have thereto, Bassets, or Wrestling, or to run the race, And see if you at these can me out-do, Any of you except Laodamas. For I to him am come as to a Friend Of whom I hope for succour in my need. He were a fool that with him would contend Without whose help his business cannot speed. But of the rest not any I refuse; And will contend with them for Mastery. For I know all the Games the best men use. To use the Bowe none abler is than I. When many of us had a minde to kill Some noted Foe, and all at once did shoot, Though every one of us had the same will, My Arrow was the first that sound him out. At Ilium in trials of the Bowe None sound I better than my self but one. 'Twas Polyctetes. Of those that are now I think my self inferiour to none. With those of former time I'll not compare, As Hercules, or Eurytus that durst Challenge Apollo. Apollo took a care That Prize should not be plaid, & kill'd him first, As far as other men can shoot an Arrow, So far I able am to dart a Spear. But lodging I have had at Sea so narrow That I may be out-run by some man here. So said Ulysses; and all silent sat Except the King, who thus unto him said,

Stranger, there's no man here offended at The words you say. For open you have laid Your Vertue, when you were thereto constrian'd By the unjust reproaches of this man. For such it is as by none can be stain'd, But those that nothing say discreetly can. And hear me farther what I have to say, That t'other Hero's you the same may tell, Who with you and your Wife shall feasting stay, In what from other men we bear the bell. For Cuffs and Wrestling, not much praise we merit, But our good Ships and Feet are wondrous swift. And these Gists from our Fathers we inherit, Dance, Song, Feasts, Fiddle, and of Garments shift, And Baths, and Beds. Dance you that dance the best Before the Stranger, that his ••riends among He may say how much we exceed the rest Of men, in Ships, in Running, Dance, and Song. Fetch out the Fiddle. Then the Squire went in To fetch the Fiddle. And the Judges rise, In number nine, who had elected been By publick vote, of Games to hold assize. And order took for large room in the middle, And made it to be plained well and even. When this was done, then brought out was the Fiddle, And by the Squire was to the Singe•• given. Then came the youngmen that had learnt to dance, And of their age were yet but in the flowr, And to the middest of the place advance. Their Feet play up and down like drops in show'r. Such sparkling feet Ulysses ne'r had seen. The Singer as he played sung the song Of Mars and Venus, and what love had been Held secretly between them all along. And how in Vulcan's house they us'd to meet; And what he gave her; how the prying Sun As they imbrac'd each other chanc'd to see't, And told her Husband Vulcan what was done. How Vulcan to his Forge in anger went, And on his anvil hammer'd out strong Chains,

Which neither could be broken, nor selent. And when he made an end had of his pains, Into the Chamber went where stood his Bed. His Net o'th' Bed-posts, and the Beams he threw Like Spider-webs about a Chamber spread; And then to go to Lemnos made a shew. So subtile were the Chains and finely wrought, They could by none, although a God, be seen. H••w Mars to warch his going failed not. When Vulcan was gon out, then Mars went in. How V••nus entred in, new come from Jove, And by him sate. Mars took her by the hand, And to her said, Let's go to bed, my love. Vulcan is now at Lemnos gone a land. And how they went to bed and made the Net Fall down upon, and hold them as they lay. And how they knew no way from thence to get, But must till Vulcan came to free them stay, How Vulcan from hard by came quickly in. For back he came before he was half way. For by the Sun advertis'd he had been, And angerly turn'd back without delay; And roaring to the Gods, he said, D'ye see What work is here, and how unseemly 'tis? And how Jove's Daughter does dishonour me Because my Limbs are maim'd, and whole are his? I grant he's fair, nor doth as I do hault. Ought she to love him therefore more than me? For that my Parents is, and not my fault. But come ye Gods all, and their posture see. I hate the sight, yet they must not therefore Hope e'r the sooner for that, to be free. The Net will suffer them to move no more, How keen soever on their love they be. And till her Father shall the Dow'r repay Which for the Girl although incontineat, I paid him down, 'cause fair she was and gay, There they shall lie. This said, the Gods streight went To Vulcan's house. Neptune and Mercury, And with them with his Silver Bow, Apollo,

And many others. But (for modesty) No Goddess could perswaded be to follow. Assoon as they perceived had the craft, Which standing in the door they had survey'd. At first aloud they altogether laught. And by and by to one another said, I see that evil works do ill succeed. The slow has gotten of the swift the better. Vulcan of Mars the God of greatest speed. And that by Arts which make his Ransome greater. And how Apollo did the Question put To Mercury, if he content would be In such strong Chains with Venus to be shut, While all the Gods are standing by and see. How Hermes said, O Phoebus, that I were In Mars his place, and did with Venus lie, And thrice as many Chains about us there, Though all the Gods and Goddesse; stood by. And how the Gods at this laught out again, Save Neptune onely, who did never cease T'importune Vulcan and his wrath restrain, And that he would the God of War release; And that himself would pay him what was due If Mars did not. How Vulcan said agen, If Mars should fly, shall I imprison you? Unsure the Suretiship is of fled men. And that again Neptune replying said. Though Mars should run away, yet I will not. And how that Vulcan at the last obey'd, And Mars and Venus out of prisor got, And he to Thrace went, but to Cyprus she; Where she a Temple and an Altar had, And by the Graces that her Servants be Bath'd and anointed was and Godlike clad. These of the merry Song were the Contents. Ulysses was well pleased with the same. And of the rest delighted was the Sense. Alcinous then called our by name Laodamas and Halius to dance. None else for either of them was a match.

And they into the midst themselves advance The one to throw a Ball, th'other to catch. One threw't up high reclining on his hip; The other of the same the downfal watch't, And taking from the ground a lusty skip, His feet above ground, in the air it catcht. When this was done, they laid aside the Ball, And danc'd with often changes on the ground, Applauded much by the Spectators all, Who with their praises made the place resound. O King (then said Ulysses) what you said Of how your men pass all the world beside In Noble Dance, can never be gainsaid. I see it to my wonder justifi'd. The King well pleased to the Princes spake. A worthy man the stranger seems to me. Let's think upon what Present him to make. Twelve Princes in Phaeacia there be, And I the thirteenth am. Let's ev'ry one Bestow on him a handsome Cloak and Coat, Besides a Talent of pure Gold. That done Let it be all together to him brought, That he at Supper may sit chearfully. And you Euryalus go speak him fair. For what you said before was injury. Go therefore with some Gift your fault repair. This said, to fetch the Gifts they sent the Squire. Then said Euryalus, O King, since 'tis, That also I present him, your desire; I will for reconcilement give him this My Sword, with Scabbord all of Ivory, And silver Hilt. The Present is not poor. And giving it, O Father though (said he) I said amiss, pray think upon't no more. And may the Gods restore you to your Land, Since absent from your Friends you live in pain. Ulysses took the Sword into his hand, And to Euryalus thus said again, And you my Friend may you still happy be, And of this Sword for ever need have none,

Which reconciling you have g••ven me. And as he speaking was he put it on. The Sun now set, the King no longer tarri'd, But with the Lords went to his house to Sup. Along with them the Squires the Presents carri'd Unto the Queen Arete to lay up. Alcinous then said unto the Queen, Let a fair Chest be streightway hither brought, And for the Stranger see there be laid in A comely and a well-wash'd Cloak and Coat, And of warm water let a Bath stand by, That washing he may see the Presents there, And sit at Supper the more joyfully, And hearken to the Song with better chear. And I will give him this my Cup of Gold, That offring up unto the Gods the Wine, As often as he doth the Cup behold, He may both for his own health pray and mine. This said, the Maids commanded by the Queen, Set up a Caldron with a triple foot, Then make fire under, and pour water in. Keen was the fire, and soon the water hot. Mean while the Queen came in, and with her brought A curious Chest, and into it laid in The Gold, and with it every Cloak and Coat, That by the Princes given him had been. And then unto Ulysses said, Take care You binde it fast, lest you be rob'd by one Or other, whilst aboard you sleeping are, Lest any thing should missing be and gone. And when she thus had him admonished. Ulysses of the Chest pull'd down the lid, And girt it with a Cord of various thred, Thereby to know if any it undid. For that trick he by Circe taught had been. A Woman then unto Ulysses said, There stands your Bath, which way you please go in. Then went he in, and not a little joy'd. For after he had left Calypso's house Warm and sweet water he had never seen,

But roll'd by Neptune always was in souse; But had with her carefully treated been. When him the Maids washt and anointed had, Out from the Bath he came amongst the men With a clean Cloak and comely garments clad. To th'Door the bright Nausicaa came then, And to Ulysses said, Stranger farewel, And may you safely at your Land arrive. Remember that into my hand you fell, And owe to me that you were kept alive. O (said Ulysses) Daughter of the King, To you the Ransome of my life is due. And if the Gods me to my Country bring, As to a Goddess I will pray to you. This said, he went and sat down by the King. And now the Meat in Messes some divided; Others the lusty Wine were tempering, And by a Squire the Singer in was guided; And at a Pillar in the midst made sit. Ulysses half a Chine of Pork and sat Cuts off, and in the Squires hands putteth it, And said unto him, Give the Singer that. Singers through all the world have reputation, And well respected be in ev'ry land. The Muses teach them Song, and love the Nation. Then went the Squire and put it in his hand, Demodocus receiv'd it and was glad. Then fell they to the Meat before them laid. When Thirst and Hunger overcome they had, Unto the Stranger then Ulysses said, Demodocus, you all men else excel. The Muses sure did teach you, or it was Phoebus himself. For you have sung so well The acts that did 'twixt Greeks and Trojans pass, And all related that they did at Troy, Or suffer'd there, or when they homeward came, As if your self beh••ld had their annoy, Or had from some Spectator heard the same. Stand forth and sing now of the Horse of Wood Made by Epeius, but by Pallas helpt,

Stufft by Ulysses full of Warriours good, Which in Troy. Town destruction to it whelp't. If this you sing in order as 'twas done, I'll make the World with your just praises ring. Then at the Gods Demodocus begun, And how the Fleet went off the shore did sing; And how they fir'd their Tents; and how the Lords Of Greece, i'th' Councel of the Trojans sate Inclos'd and hidden in the Horse of boards, That by the Trojars was fetcht in in state. The Trojans si••ting round about debate. And many a foolish speech they ••ttered And on three points they there deliberate. And voted what the Gods determined. The three points which were most insisted on Were whether they should cut the Horse in twain, Or throw it down the Rock it stood upon, Or let it, to appease the Gods, remain. I'th'end they all resolved on the last. For by the Fates it was determined That Ilium should then be layed waste, When o'r its walls a great Horse entered, And in his Belly brought the Enemy. And how the Argives from the Horse came out, How divers ways they went and cruelly Killed and burned as they went about. Ulysses then, like Mars, with Menclaus Unto Deiphobus together hie. And for a while there sharp the Battle was; But to Ulysses fell the Victory. This sung Demodocus. And then upon Ulysses cheeks the tears ran down apace. As when in fight a Woman looketh on, And sees her Husband fallen on the place. That fought had for his Town and Children dear; There sprawleth he, she o'r him falls and cries, But back and shoulders is well basted there, And carri'd captive by the Enemy. As wofully as then this woman wept, So wofully Ulysses now sheds tears.

But from the King it was not secret kept, Who sitting next him all his groaning hears. And speaking to the Princes sitting by, Let us, said he, Demodocus release. His Song not pleaseth all the Company: It makes the Strangers sorrow to increase, And brings some grief or other to his mind. Then let him hold; that we and he together May in this meeting equal pleasure find. The cause we met here was his coming hither, That we might give him Gifts and send him hence. A Guest is as a Brother to be us'd, As all men know that but pretend to sense. And you my Guest you cannot be excus'd, If you not answer truth to all I ask. Say what's the name your Parents call you by. You must no longer now keep on your Mask. Children new-born not long unnamed lie. Tell me your Land and City where it is, That my good Ship may know where you would (be; For in Phaeacia no Steersman is Nor Rudder as in other Ships you see. Whither men bid them go they understand, And pass in Clouds concealed o'r the Main, And where the Havens be in every Land. No fear they have of perishing or pain. And yet my Father to me once did say, That with our Convoys Neptune was offended, And that one day our good Ship to destroy, As it returned homewards he intended. And from men hide our City with a Hill. But whether that shall be performed now, I cannot tell. It lies in Neptunes will, And not concerneth you at all to know. But tell me now what Lands you wandring saw, What Nations, and what Cities you came to; What kind of people, Civil, or without Law, Civil or kind to Strangers, Godly or no. When you heard sung the woful Fate of Troy, Why did you weep? The Gods that built the Town

Decreed thereat much people to destroy, And that their Fate should be sung up and down Lost you some Kinsmen there or near Ally, Which might in time of danger you bestead? Or some good friend? A wise friend standing by Is worth a Kinsman in a time of need.

LIB. IX.

To this Ulysses said, Renowned King Alcinous, methinks delightful 'tis To sit as we do here, and hear one sing, And specially so good a Voice as this. I, for my part, do never more rejoyce, Than when I see men sitting at their meat Chearful, and listening to a pleasan: voice, And see the Cups go often and retreat. This is a thing that I love best; but you Had rather hear the dangers I have past, Which fright me yet, and do my pain renew. But which shall I tell first? which next? which last? For they be many. First my Name I'll tell, And place, that whensoe'r you thither come You may there lodge, although far off I dwell, And am uncertain of my getting home. I am Ulysses Laertiades, And far and wide I am reputed w••se 'Mongst men that love subtile conveyances, And known I am by Fame up to the Skies. My place is Ithaca, in which is store Of Wool. Mount Neriton is cloath'd with wood; A goodly Hill, and many Islands more Lie close about it, yeilding store of food.

D••lithlum, Same, and the woody Zant, On th'East of Ithaca are scituate. Another Island, which is called Ant, Lies Westward of it, but is low and flat. Rocky is Ithaca, and uneven ground; But breedeth able men. Nor have I known The man that to his own minde ever found A Country that was better than his own. From mine Calypso kept me in a Cave T' have been her Husband; so did Circe too: But neither of them my consent could have, So much could love of my own Country do. For though far off I might have better Land, Yet should I from my Kindred absent live. But now 'tis time to let you understand What passage to me Jove was pleas'd to give. From Troy to Ismarus we first were blown Within an Isle, Cicons the Natives are; And soon we plundered and burnt the Town, And of the Plunder each man had his share. The Wives we Prisoners made, and to the Sword We put the men: and then withount delay ••d••d command them all to go aboard; But they, Fools as they were, would not obey: For they to kill, eat, drink, themselves apply, Beeves, sheep, & wine, which they had on the beach, Cicons mean while to Cicons so loud cry, That to the Continent their voices reach. And presently came others, numberless As leaves in Summer; stout and men of skill, To fight on Horsback with much readiness, Or else on foor, according as they will. J•••• had decreed us mischief, and the hour Was come: And just before our ships we sought, Spears were our Weapons, which with all out power We lanced on both sides with courage stout. Whilst the Sun mounted we resisted well, But after Noon they pressed us so sore, That with the falling Sun our courage fell; And then in haste we thrust our ships from shore.

From out of every Ship six men we lost: And then with heavy hearts our Sails we hoise, And grieved for our Fellows left the Coast; But first to ev'ry of them called thrice VVhom slam by th'Enemy we left behinde, Then Jove with Clouds both Land and VVater vails, And Night came on us with a surious winde From the North part of Heav'••, and tore our Sails In three's and four's, and all our Ships were tost Hither and thither, side-ways with their blasts, And one anothers way hindred and crost. Then took we in our Sails, and down our Masts, For fear of death, and laid them on the Decks, And with our Oars rowed our Ships to land; Two Nights and Days we staid, while grief did vex Each minde, and labour tired had each hand. But when the Morn had led forth the third day, VVe then set sail, and left their course to th'winde; The which (we sitting still) did them convey According as the Steers-men had design'd. And I had safely come to Ithaca, Had not the North-winde with the tide o'th' Sea, When I was come to th' Cape of Malea, Forc'd us without the Isle of Cytheré. The horrid Winds now found me on the Main, And toss'd me into one anothers hand: Nine days together I endur'd this pain, Upon the tenth they cast me on a Land Where dwell a People call'd Lotophagi, That have and live upon a fruit full sweet I'th' Continent. We went ashore; there I Made them take in fresh water for the Fleet. Then having quickly sup'd, I chose out two Of my Companions to go and see What men they were; with them I sent also A third, who went as Messenger from me. They quickly went; but mingled with those men Who meant no harm, but gave them Lote to eat, Which made them hate returning back again, And suddenly their Country to forget:

And with the people there resolv'd to stay, Forgetting home for love of Lote. But I Sent those that quickly fetched them away By force, and under hatches did them tie. The rest I bad unto their Ships to haste, Lest eating Lote they should return no more. Aboard they quickly come, and each one plac'r In order, beats the grey Sea with his Oar. Then to the Land of Cyclopses we row, Men proud and lawless, that relie for food Upon the Sky, and neither plant nor plow; Yet have they Barley, Wheat, Wine very good, Unplow'd, unsown, fetch'd up by show'rs of Rain. They have no Courts of Councel, nor of Right. On huge high Hills themselves they entertain, And in their rocky bellies pass the night. Each man gives Law to his own Wife and Brood. Nor do they much for one another care. Before the Port an Isle lies clad with wood, Not very near, nor from it very far. VVild Goats in great abundance were therein: Because there dwelt no men that might them kill, Nor wretched Hunters ever enter in, To tire themselvs running from Hill to Hill. For the good Ship with the Vermilion Cheeks The Cyclopses have not, nor Art to make All that is needful for a man that seeks Trade, and to pass the Seas must undertake. The Island else they quickly might adorn. The Land is good; to th'Sea sweet Meadows lie, And plentifully would yield VVine and Corn, If it were helped with good Husbandry. Anchors and Cables in the Port needs none, Nor any Rope to tie the Ship to Land; And when the Master thinks fit to be gone, VVith the first VVinde they take the Oar in hand. VVithin the entrance riseth a sweet Spring From out a Cave, shaded with Poplars tall; Thither to shore our Ships we safely bring. Some God was Guide. Nothing we saw at all.

Dark night it was, and nothing to ••e seen; The Air about us thick, and from the Sky The Moon could not shine through the Clouds be∣tween, Nor Waves, nor Isle appear'd to any eye. Then took we in our Sails, and went to Land, And waited for the coming of the day, And in the mean time slumbred on the Sand. But when we saw appear the morning gay, Admiring th'Isle, we walked to a••d fro, Whilst the Nymphs (sprung from Jove Aegiochus) Refreshment on my Sould••ers to bestow, Down from the Mountain brought the Goats to us. And presently from out our Ships we take Our Bowes and Arrows keen and came away, And of our Company three Troops we make; Then shooting, soon we had a lovely prey. Our Ships were twelve, to wh••ch ••hey equally Divide the Spoil; for every ship had nine, Save onely mine had ten: Then merrily All day we fit and feast on Flesh and Wine. For we had Wire enough as yet unspent, Of that we got and brought away with us, Which ev'ry man had in o Budgets pent, Then when we took the T••wn of Ismarus. Close by we saw the Land of Cyclopses, And smoak, & heard the voice ••'th'men, & Sheep And Goats. 'Twas night, and on the Sand o'th'Sea Our selves till morning we refresht with sleep. But when the rosie morning'gan t'appear, My Fellows I together call'd, and spake: You, my Companions, by the Ships stay here; I with my Ship and Crew will undertake A trial of this people, whe••her w••lde, And proud, and in olent their Nature be, Or whether they be men of nature milde, Godly, and loving hospitality. This said, I went aboard, and bad my Crew Imbark themselves. Aboard they quickly come, And futing each man in his order due, With stroak of Oar they made the grey Sea foam.

Arriv'd, we of a Cavern saw the door, Both high and wide, and sheep and goats there lay Abundance sleeping. It was shaded o're With boughs that downward grew of Lawrel gay. Before it was a Court well fenc'd with stone And lusty Oaks, and many a Pine-tree high. I'th' Cave a Giant lodg'd, who us'd alone His sheep to feed, no other Cyclops nigh. It was a huge and ugly Monster, and Lookt not unlike a rocky Mountains head That does 'mongst other hills asunder stand, With a great Perriwig of Trees o'rspread. Then bad I my Companions to stay And guard the Ship, save that by lot a dozen I took of them along with me, and they, By chance, were the same men I would have cho∣sen. With me I took a Goatskin full of Wine, Pleasant and strong, by Maron given me, Evanthes Son, Priest to Phoebus Divine, At Ismarus, to save his Family, Fearing the God in whose Grove he did live. For which sev'n Talents of pure beaten Gold, And a large Silver Bowl he did me give Freely, besides twelve Budgets of Wine old, Pure, pleasant, precious drink it was, which none Knew of besides himself, his Wife and Maid; Of the Men-servants that he kept, not one. Which when he drank, he usually allaid With water pure, full twenty times as much: And when a man so temper'd had his Cup, Yet still the fragrant smell thereof was such, He hardly could forbear to drink it up. This Goatskin I took with me in a Case, Expecting of some great and gastly man, That knew nor Law, nor Right, to see the face; And landing, quickly to the Den we ran. We entred in, but did not finde him there; But gaze we did at ev'ry thing with wonder: Shelves full of Cheese as much as they could bear, Pens full of Sheep and Goats, each sort asunder,

Old, younger, young'st; all Vessels to the brim, Pans, Trays, and Milking-Pales were full of Whey. My men desir'd me not to stay for him, But make what haste I could to get away, And take some of his Cheeses from the shelves, And Sheep from out the Pens, and then to go, And setting up our Sails to save our selves. But I would not, though 'thad been better so. But I d••fir'd to see the man, and try If from him some good gift I might obtain; But they with fear were ready for to die, And could not think upon him but with pain. Then kindled we a fire, and kill'd and fed On Flesh and Cheese, and for his coming staid. He came, and a great burthen carried Of wither'd Boughs, which at the door he laid. His Supper with this Wood he meant to dress, And threw it down with such a hideus noise, As frighted us to th'innermost recess O'th' Cave; there lay we, and supprest our voice. Into the Cave he comes, he and his Flock, All that was milch; the Males he le••t without, Rams and He-goats, and the Door with a Rock Stops up, which two & twenty Ca••ts scarce mought Bear above ground, and then to milking fell; But first he sets unto each Ewe her Lamb, In order due, to see them suckled well, And each young Goat he puts under her Dam. Half of the Milk he turn'd to Ourds, and put Them into Wicker-Baskets to set up: The other half he into Tankards put, For drink to serve him when he was to sup. When he had ended all his business, He made a fire, and thereby sp••'d us out. What are you, says he, whence d'ye cross the Seas? Is it on business, or d'ye rove about As Pyrats wa••k at Sea, to and a••en, And are content to set their lives at stake, So they may mischief do to other men? Our hearts dismaid before, this language brake.

We fear'd his hollow voice, and body great; But yet I made him answer, and said thus: We are Achaeans, making our retreat Homewards from Troy, but winds have forced us Upon this Coast (for Jove would have it so.) We are a part of Agamemnon's Bands, Whose glory for his sacking Troy, is now Renown'd both far and wide throughout all Lands. And now our selves we prostrate at your feet, Hoping for some good thing as Visitants; Such as all men have commonly thought meet; Or for the Gods-sake, as to Suppliants. As Suppliants we before you here do lie, With whom, and Strangers, Jove still goes along, He is the God of Hospitality, To punish whosoever does them wrong. Thus I. But he replied with fell intent, Stranger, thou art a fool, or com'st from far, That counsel'st me to fear the punishment Of Jove, or for the blessed Gods to care. The Cyclopses care not at all for Jove Aegiochus, or any other Gods. For why, we stronger are than those above; And if we strength compare, we have the odds. No, no. 'Tis not the fear of Jupiter Can me from thee, or these with thee restrain, Unless I please. But tell me truely where The Ship that brought you rides, and do not sa••n. This was to sound me. But I saw his mind, And a deceitful answer did intend. My Ship was wreckt by Neptune, and by wind Thrown 'gainst the rocks, a•• the lands furthest end. Where all besides my self and these were drown'd. To this he answer'd nothing, nor said more; But snatching up a couple from ••he ground, Knocks out their Brains, like Whelps against the floor. Then outs them into joynts, and on them fed: Nor did he flesh, or bone, or entrails leave, Like hungry Lion on the Mountains bred. Then weep we, and to Jove our hands up heave

To see such work, and have no remedy. When he with humane flesh his Belly deep Had fill'd, and drunk the m••lk that stood him by, He laid himself along amongst his sheep, And slept. And then I saw I might h••m slay: 'Twas but to draw my good Sword from my side, And gently on his breast my hand to lay, And to the hilts the Sword in's body hide. Upon new thoughts that purpose I gave o're; For certainly it had destroy'd us quite: So great the stone was that lay on the door, That to remove it was past all our might. So there we sighing staid for day: and when The Rosie-finger'd Morning did appear, He made a fire, and milkt his flock agen, And the young Kids and Lambs new suckled were, When all his work was at an end, and past, Two more of my Companions he takes, And on those two he quickly breaks his fast, And for his Flock the way he open makes. For easily he took the stone away, And then again with no less ease he did Set up the same, and in its right place lay, Than of a Quiver one would do the Lid. His flock with noise he drives up to the Hills, And in the Den leaves us to meditate How to revenge (with Phoebus help) our ills. At last within my breast this counsel sate. Near one o'th' Pens there lay an Olive-Tree, Straight, and the boughs cut off, which when 'twas dri'd Designed was a Walking staff to be Of the great Cyclops; which when we esp'd, Of some good Ship we thought might be the Mast, Or of a Bark of twenty Oars or more, That Neptune's rugged waters might have past With a great burthen safe from shore to shore. Of this a fathom I cut off, and gave it To my Companions to taper it: They smooth'd and taper'd it as I would have it; I sharpned it at point as I thought fit.

Then in the fire the same I hardned well, And laid it by with Dung all cover'd o're, Which in the Cave from so much Cattle sell; For Sheep & Goats there always were good store. From all my Company, who did not fear To help me thrust this Bar into his eye, I took out four by lot, and such they were As I my self did wish; the fifth was I. At Ev'ning he returneth with his sheep, Into the hollow Cave he brings them all: Without, he neither sheep nor goat did keep, By Presage, or upon some Heav'nly Call. Then with the stone the Caves mouth up he dams. And milks his She-goats and his Ews each one: And suckles all his young Kids, and his Lambs. But after he his work had fully done, Another couple of my men he took. Then having in my hand an Ivie Kan Of good black Wine, I thus unto him spoke: Cyclops, since you have eaten flesh of man, Here, drink this good black Wine upon't, and see What excellent good drink we had aboard, Whereof I've hither brought a taste to thee, Hoping you will some kindness me afford, And some assistance in our Voyage home. But so intolerably furious You are, that no man will dare near you come, Knowing how cruel you have been to us. When I had said, the good Wine he drank up, And was extremely pleased with the same: And straightway calling for another Cup, Tell me (quoth he) right now what is thy name; And I will give thee that shall please thy heart. We Cyclopses have Vines that yield good Wine, Which from the Earth by Rain from Heaven start: But this some branch of Nectar is divine. When he had said, I gave him Wine again. Three times I fill'd the Kan, and he as oft Drank't off. But when it came up to his brain, Then spake I to him gentle words and soft.

Cyelops, since you my name desire to know. I'll tell it you, and on your word rely. My name it Noman; all men call me so, My Father, Mother, and my Company. To which he soon and sadly made reply, Noman, I'll eat you last, none shall out live you Of all that here are of your Company; And that's the gift I promised to give you. And having said, he laid himself along With bended neck, sleeping and vomiting Gobbets of Humane Flesh, and Wine among. All he before had eaten uttering. The Bar with Embers then I covered, Till (green as 'twas) with heat I made it shine; And with few words my men encouraged, Left any should have shrunk from the designe. The Bar now hot, and ready to flame out, And (though green wood) yet glowing mightily, To him my Fellows carried now stour, And set the point thereof upon his eye. But I my self erecting with my hand, Twirled the Bar about, with motion nimble, As Joyners with a string below do stand To give a piercing motion with a wimble. So whilst the Brand was entring, I it turn'd. The blood that down along it ran was hot; And with his Eye the Lids and Brows were burn'd, And all his Eye-strings with the fire did strut As when a Smith hath heat his A••e or Spade, And quickly quenches it while hot it is, To harden it, it makes a noise; so made His great moist Eye the glowing Brand to hiss. He roared so as made the Rocks resound, And from his Eye he pull'd, with both his hand, The burning Brand, and threw it to the ground; And so a while he there amazed stands. And thence for more Cyclopses cal••s; and they (Wh•• dwelt about in every hollow Cave) Came in, some one, and some another way; And from without the ••en ask'd what he'd have.

What ails thee Polyphemus so to cry In dead of night, and make us break our sleep? Goes any one about to make thee die, By force or fraud, or steal away thy sheep? Then Polyphemus answered from his Cave, Friends, Noman killeth me. Why then, said they, We have no power from sickness you to save; You must unto your Father Neptune pray. This said, they parted each one to his own Dark-Cavern: Then within my s••lf I laught To think how with my Name the mighty Clown I so deceived had, and gull'd by crast. The Cyclops for the stone now groap'd about, Found it, and threw it down, though pained sore; Thinking to catch us at our coming out, Sitting with Arms extended in the door. Such fools he thought us: but I formerly Had thought upon the course I was to take; And all my cunning, and my Art to try, Since no less than our lives was now at stake, This Counsel 'twas that in my breast then sat; Male-sheep there were within the Cave well sed, Fair, big, and deeply clad in wool and sat, And these, with twigs ta'ne from Cyclops his bed, I bound together three and three; each three Bore one under the middlemost fast bound: One Ram, by far the best of all bore me Under his breast, my hands in deep wool wound. Thus hung we constantly, expecting day. The morning came, the Males to pasture hie, (The Ews with strutting Udders bleating stay.) Their Master sitting there in misery, Laid's hand upon their backs as out they past, Ne'r thinking of their Bellies we were under. M••••e heavy with his wool and me came last, To whom the Cyclops said, seeming to wonder, Why, silly Ram, art thou the last to come Out of the Cave, that formerly was ever The foremost to go out, and to come home, And foremost at the going to the River;

But now art last? Is't for thy Masters eye, Which Noman and his Fellows have put forth? O couldst thou speak, and tell me where doth lie Hidden within, that Noman, nothing worth, I soon would with his brains besmear the floor, And ease my vexed heart within me so, Which Noman hath within me wour••ded sore. This said, he let the Ram that bore me go. Got forth a little from the Den and yard, I left my Ram, and set my Fellows free: Unto my Ships I brought part of the Herd, That to our Fellows we might welcome be, We that escapt: But they began to weep For those we left behinde us dead, till I Commanded them to fetch aboard more Sheep, And after that their Oars again to ply. They brought in more, and each man takes his seat, And in due order, with his Oar in hand, The water grey into a foam they beat, And rowed us a little way from land, As far as one that hollows can be heard; So far I stood from shore, I hollow'd then; Cyclops, Cyclops, why were you not afraid To kill and eat, as you have done, my men? For since you Strangers do so ill intreat, And of the Gods themselves no reck'ning make, You ought to have expected vengeance great, And that your wicked deeds should you o'retake. The Cyclops then provoked with this mock, Threw a great stone at us with all his might; And first he swing'd round o're his head the Rock, Which just behind the Rudder chanc'd to light; And so much stir'd the water falling in, That what with th'eddy and tide from the Main, Brought back to th'Land, and sure we dead had bin, But that I quickly thrust it off again. Then bad I my Companions to row Still further off, till we were out of fear. They pli'd their Oars again; and we were now At twice the distance that before we were.

And then again I to the Cyclops spoke, (Though my companions would have hindred me) Why (say they) will you still the man provoke? How great a stone, how far he throws, you see, How hear to Land we were, how near to die. If he but any one of us hear speak, A Rock will straightway from him hither fly, And knock our brains out, and our Vessel break. So said they; but with me could nothing do, I was resolv'd to vex him bitterly. Cyclops, quoth I, if any ask thee who, What was his name that rob'd thee of thy eye, Say 'twas Ulysses, Prince of Ithaca, Son to the old Laer••es. He it was. At which the Cyclops howling answered, Ha. I see old Prophesies are come to pass, For Telemus Eurymedes that here Dwelled, and telling Fortunes went about, Told me I should by name Ulysses fear, As he that one day should my eye put out. But I some strong and mighty man expected Of Stature great, should come to do that deed, And never such a little Wretch suspected, Nor ever did of being drunk take heed. But come Ulysses nearer, that I may Give you a precious Gift as you deserve; And also to my Father Neptune pray, That you upon the Seas he would preserve. For I his Son, and he my Father is, And to my sight again restore me can; He, and no other of the Gods in bliss, Nor any Pow'r on earth. So said the man. Cyclops (quoth I) I would I could as well Send thee now down to Pluto's ugly Den Depriv'd of Life and Soul i'th' deepest Hell, As I am sure thou ne'r shalt see agen. Then held he up his hands to Heav'n and praid, Hear me, O Neptune, if thy Son I be, And thou my Father truely, as 'tis said, Grant that Ulysses never more may see

His Native Soil; or if perhaps by Fate It be decreed he shall return again, Let him return both wretchedly and late, His Ships and Men lost, and at home meet pain. His prayer granted was; and then he threw A greater stone, first swinged it o'r his head, Which by good chance above the Vessel flew, But almost to the shore us carried. When we were come into the Isle again Where all the rest of our Fleet then abode, Expecting our return, in grievous pain, And wondring why we were so long abroad; Then with our Sheep we landed on the Beach, And 'mongst the Backs divided them with care, Their just and equal number unto each, That no Ship might be wronged of his share. On me my Fellows over and above Bestow'd a Ram, which on the Sand there-right I made a Sacrifice to mighty Jove; But in my Off'rings he took no delight, And was contriving how to make away My Ship and Fellows, and destroy them quite. There on the shore we sat and spent the day With Flesh and VVine from mo••ning unto night. All night we slept upon the shore; and when The morning had again the day restor'd, I presently commanded all my men To loose the Ropes, and put themselves aboard Aboard they go and beat the Sea with Oars, All for their Fellows which were eaten, sad. And forward to the Main we take our course, For that we had our selves escaped, glad.

LIB. X.

AT th'floting Isle Aeolia we landed, VVhere Aeolus the Son of Hippotas Beloved of th'Immortal Gods commanded. His House was walled all about with Brass. Th'ascent unto it was all one smooth stone. Twelve were his Children six sons and their wives; In Wedlock he had joyn'd them one to one, And with him in his house they led their lives. And made good chear; all day the house they make To ring with mirth, and smoke with boil'd & roast. At night their loyal Wives to Beds they take, Richly set out with Coverings of great cost. A month he entertain'd me with delight, Askt me of Troy, and th'Argive Fleet, and how The Greeks got home. And him I answer'd right To ev'ry thing as far as I did know. And when I left his house, he was content T'assist me friendly in my Voyage back With a West wind, and all Winds else he pent Into a tough and strong Neats-leather sack. (For Jove had made him Master of the Winds, To hold their breath, or blow as he thought fit) And with a Silver string the Sack he binds: No VVind could stir but as I order'd it. But all this did no good for want of Wit. Nine days we sail'd fore-right, and came so near To th'Ocast of Ithaca, that we could see't By th'light of Beacons that were fired there. But then with weariness I fell asleep; For I had ••e'r till now the Helm let go,

Nor suffer'd any else my place to keep, I long'd to see my Native Country so. Mean while my Fellows to discourse begin, Thinking much Gold and S••lver was ••'th' Sack By Aeolus Hippodates put in, Which now to Ithaca I carri'd back. And, Oh did one unto another say, How much this man is lov'd where e'r he com••s! He brings from Troy a great share of the prey, Though we go empty handed to our homes. Now Aeolus has giv'n him God knows what. Come quickly let us while we think upon't, And sleeping he upon the Deck lies flat, Undo the Sack, and see how much there's on't. This wretched Counsel taken by the Crew, The Budget they undid, to see my store; And then at once the furious Winds out-flew, And whistling, snatcht our Sh••p away from shore. My Fellows wept, I studi'd which was best, To fall into the Sea and end my pain, Or patiently to live among the rest. I chose to live, as better of the twain, And hood-winkt laid me down i'th' Ship. At last We found our selves upon th' Aeolian shore On which th' unruly Winds our Ship had cast, Just at the place where we set forth before: And there we landed, and short Supper made With my Companions on the rocky shore. I one man with me, and a Herald take, And went up to the Porch before the Door Of th'Hall, where Aeolus sat banqueting Amongst his Sons and Daughters. They admir'd. What Wind, said they, did you now hither bring? We furnisht you for what place you desir'd. Some Devil crost you. Softly I repli'd. Of our misfortune other cause was none But my mens folly, who the Bag unti'd The whilst I slept; you can repair wh••t's done. Their Father answer'd at another rate; Hence Rascal, hated of the Gods above:

I entertain none whom the Gods do hate. Away, I say, th•• Gods thee do not love. Thus sighing we were sent away. And though We were already tired with the Oar, To Sea we put, and forward still we row, Six days and nights entire, ne'r giving o're. Upon the seventh day we landed near To Lestrigonia, the Royal Seat Of Lamus and his Race. The Herds-men there, When from the field they bring their Sheep or [neat, Hollow to those at home; then they a-field Their Cattle drive. To one of little sleep The site o'••h' place doth double wages yield, By ••ending one day Cows, another Sheep. For it is s••ated just' twixt day and night. Into the so••t we came, the which within On each side was beset with Rocks upright, Whereof two made it nar••ow coming in. My Fellow; with their Ships were in the Port Near to the City. For the Sea was still, And not a Winde stirring of any sort. But I kept mine without, suspecting ill, And with a Rope had ti'd it to the Rocks. ••h••n up a Hill I went to look about, But could no signe espy of Man or Ox. Then down I came again, and straight sent out T'enquire what kinde of people lived there. A Herald then and two ••••en more I sent, Who as they going on the High-way were That from the woody Hill to th' City went, Met with the Daughter of Antiphates That was of Lestrigonians the King. She had fetcht water from A••tacies; Artacies the name was of a Spring. They askt her of the King and of the People. Her Fathers house she shews. They thither hie, And finde the Queen there looking like a Steeple, And straight abhor'd her as a Prodigie. Then she her Husband from the Market-place Calls home, who straight intended to dispatch 'em,

And la'd his hands on one; but in that space The rest escap'd by fl••ght, he could not catch'em. But then he raised with a mighty shout The Town and Countrey, who in numbers great Liker to Giants than to Men, came out, And with huge stones of a mans weight they beat My Men and Ships. A woful noise and wild I heard of dying men, and tearing planks. VVhen they had slain my men, they them enfil'd, And carri'd them like Fishes hung in ranks. VVhile they did this, I had no other hope To save my self, but quickly with my Sword (My Ship being ti'd to th'Rocks) to out the Rope, And make what haste I could to get aboard. My Crew into the Ship leapt all at once, And row'd for life, till they got sat enough From land, to stand in ••ear of throwing stones, And glad they had escaped, onwards row, The rest, both Ships and Men, all perished. Next at Aeea Isle ashore we run, VVhere the wise Goddess Circ' inhabited, Aeetes Sister, Daughter of the Sun And Perse Daughter of Oceanus. There in a good ••afe Harbour quietly VVe rest our selves. Some God conducted us. There full of grief two days and nights we lie. Soon as the Morn had shewn us the third day, VVith Spear in hand, and Sword girt at my thigh, Up to a Mountains top I took my way, Some word of man to hear, or work to spy. Through the thick VVood I saw a smoke arise About the place where th'House of Circe stood: Then with my self I did a while advise VVhat I should do. At last I thought it good To make my people all to dine, and then Safely with company to go or send. So back I came unto my Ship and Men. But by the way (some God was sure my Friend) A gallant Stag came by, whom heat and thirst Invited had down to the Stream Divine.

At him I quickly threw my Spear, which pierc't Both his sides thorow, close beneath the Chine. Down dead he falls. On's neck my foot I set, Pluckt out the Spear, and laid it on the ground. To make a Rope, I Twigs and Rushes get, And his four feet together fast I bound. Within his legs I place my head, and bear His body on my neck. 'Twas hard to rise, Leaning with both my hands upon my Spear. He was too great to take up otherwise. I threw him down o'th' shore and chear'd my Crew. Friends (quoth I) though our present state be bad, Death shall not come, I hope, before 'tis due. Come, let us eat and drink, and not be sad. This said, they straightway from the ship descend, And gaze upon't, for 'twas a mighty Beast: And when their wondering was at an end, They washt their hands, and drest it for their feast. And all the remnant of the day till night VVe made good chear with VVine & Ven'son store. After the Sun had born from us his light, VVe laid us down to sleep upon the shore. But when the Rosie Morn appear'd again, I said to all my men, who grieved were: My Mates, although I have endur'd much pain, I must intreat you patiently to hear. We know not where is VVest or East, nor where The Sun does rise or set, nor where we be. To me does little hope as yet appear: And therefore we must go abroad and see. In a low Island, rising through the Trees, I saw a smoke when I stood on the Hill. Though I had utter'd no more words but these, They heard them with a very evil will. Of Cyclops and Antiphates they speak That had devour'd their Fellows formerly: And ready were their hearts with grief to break. They weep and whine, but without remedy. Of my Companions then two Bands I make; Of one Eurylochus had the command,

The charge o'th' other to my self I take: And two and twenty men were in each Band. Who should go first abroad, and who should slay, We were content should be by Lo••defin'd. To go, fell to Eurylochus. Away They weeping went, we weeping staid behind. Down in a Dale they Circes Palace found Built of square Stone. The place was full of shade. Lions and Wolves about it lay o'th' ground, Whom Circe tame with Magick Arts hath made; These flew not at my men, but laid their Noses Upon them lovingly, and wag'd their Tails As Dogs salute their Masters. Circe's Doses So much above their Natures fierce prevails. E••rylochus i'th' Door stood with his Band. The Goddess Circe busie was within; For she a wondrous fi••e work had in hand, Past art of man, and sung as she did spin. Then did Polites, whom I lov'd most dear Of all my Crew, speak out unto them all: My friends, quoth he, somebody singeth there, A Goddess or a Woman. Let us call. This said, they call, and she sets ope the Gate, Bids them come in. Fools as they were, they enter All but Eurylochus. Without he sate, Suspecting somewhat, therefore durst not venture. She places them, and sets before them food, Cheesecakes of Cheese, and Honey, Flour & Wine; But had mixt something with it not so good Of wond'rous Vertue with an ill designe. For with a Wand, assoon as they had din'd, She drove them to the sties, and there them pent: For body, head, hair, voice, all but the minde, Right Swine they were, and grunted as they went. There to them threw she Acorns, Crabs and Bran, The things wherewith Swine commonly are sed. Eurylochus staid long, but not a man Came out to let him know how they had sped. Then back he comes: at first he could not speak, Though he endeavoured; he grieved so,

The sighs and sobs his words did often break, Till urg'd by us that long'd the truth to know. At last he said, Renown'd Ulysses, we Passing the Woods, as we commanded were, In a dark Vale a stately Palace see; A Goddess, or a Woman. dwelleth there. We call'd, and straight she opening the Gate, Bids us come in. They ill advised enter All but my self. Alone without I sate, Suspecting fraud, and durst no further venture. Lost they are all: for if they could, I know Some of them would have come and brought me word, For I staid long enough. This said, my Bowe I took, and at my side my trusty Sword, And bad him guide me back the self-same way. Then fell he at my feet on both his knees, And weeping me intreats to let him stay; Your life, quoth he, amongst the rest you'll leese. To this I said, Eurylochus stay you Here at the Ship (since you are friphted so) Eating and drinking with the rest o'th' Crew; Necessity compelleth me to go. This said, I went along the shore, till I Was at the entrance of the Valley, where The house of Circe stood. Then Mercary Encountred me. In form he did appear Of a fair youth, whose Beard but now began In a soft down to peep above his face, Which is the prime of beauty in a man. Alas, said he, what make you in this place 'Mongst trees and shrub? For I can tell you this, Your Mates at Circe's house are lodg'd in sties, They now are Swine; you'll of your purpose miss. You cannot set them free though you be wise, But rather you will with them lie. But well, I'll give you such an Antidote as you Need not to be afraid of any Spell; And will besides, her purpose to you shew. To make you drink shell temper you a Cup, Which shall not (for the Antidote) bewitch you;

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And when she sees that you have drunk it up, With her long Wand she presently will switch you. Then to her with your naked Sword in hand, As if you purpos'd to out off her Head. Then she will shriek, and weep, and trembling stand, And buy her life with proffer of her ••ed. You must not then refuse the Goddess love, If you intend your Fellows to restore: Yet make her swear by all the Gods above She never will attempt to hurt you more. Then gave he me the Herb. The Flow'r was white, The Root was black; the Gods ••o call it Moly, And gather it, who have no stint of might. For men to think to finde it is a folly. Then Hermes parting mounted to the Sky, And I to Circe's house went on my way, And musing stood a while, but by and by I call'd, and she came forth without delay, And calls me in. I enter with sad heart; There in a glorious Chair she made me sit Studded with Silver-Nails, and carv'd with Art; Then puts a low Stool to it for my seet, And brought the Potion in a Golden Cup, Which she had temper'd to her ••ad designe. And soon as ever I had drunk it up She switch'd and bad me go lie with the Swine. Then start I up with my drawn Sword, and make As if I purpos'd to cut off her head. Then did she shriek most fearfully and quake, And weeping to me these word; uttered: Who, whence are you? what is your Fathers Name? That this drink worketh not, is very strange. If any else but tasted had the same, He soon had of his figure found a change. But you a stubborn heart have in your breast. Are you Ulysses, that should hither come, As Hermes told me oft, and be my Guest, When from the Trojan shore he sailed home? Put up your Sword; and that we may confide In one another better without dread,

Let's to my Chamber go, and side by side Compose the things we differ in a Bed. Circe, (said I) Oh how can I be kinde, When you to Swine my Fellows turned have? And now you have me here, 'tis in your minde To make me tame, and keep me for a slave. I'll not come near your Bed, unless before You take an Oath by all the Gods above You'll never go about to hurt me more. This said, she swore, and I gave way to love. On Circe Waiting-women four attended To do the service of the house, and were From sacred Rivers, Springs and Groves descended; Each had her proper work assigned her. One does the Chairs with coverings array; Another does the Silver Tables spread, And on each one of them a Basket lay Of Gold, and into it she puts the Bread. The third does in a Silver Flagon mix The Wine and Water in a Silver Pot: The fourth to make a fire brings in the sticks, And for a Bath makes ready water hot. Circe her self the water tempered Into a just and comfortable heat, And pour'd it on my shoulders and my head, Washing my Limbs, till I my toil forget. And when I bathed and anointed was, She put upon me a sair Coat and Vest, And led me in, into the Dining-place. And to my Chair and Table me addrest. One Maid a Golden Bason, with the Ew'r, To wash our hands over a Cauldron brings; The Cauldron also was of Silver pure. Another loads the Table with good things: Another on the Table sets on Bread, And then the Goddess Circe bids me eat. But other dangers running in my head, I had but little stomack to my meat. Which she observing said, Ulysses, why Do you thus sullenly your meat refuse,

And like a dumb man sit? D'ye think that I Intend against you some new Art to use? Have I not sworn? To which I answered, O Circe, how can I be pleas'd d'ye think (When you my Fellows keep disfigured And pounded up in Hog-sties) t'eat and drink? If you mean well, set them at liberty, And in the shape of men before my eyes, That I may look on them, and they on me. With Switch in hand then out of doors she hies And opens all the Prisons; out they come, And were to look to Pigs of nine years old. She drives them with her Wand into the room, And makes them stand there wh••le I them behold. Then Circe went amongst them, and each one Smear'd with an Unguent which straightway did make Their hair fall off, and undid all was done; And presently a humane shape they take, Greater and fairer than they had before. They know me all, my hand with theirs they press. So glad they were, their eyes for joy ••an o're. The whole house wept, and Circ•• with the rest. This past, the Goddess said, Ulysses, go And bring your Ship a-land, and let her lie; Your goods within the rocky Caves bestow, And make haste back with all your Company. This pleas'd me well Down to the Sea I hie Where my Companions I weeping finde; But soon as I appear'd they presently About me came, their care now out of mind. As when from Pastures fat a Herd of Cows Well-fed return at Evening to their home, Their Calves will not be kept with in the house, But play, and skip, and round about them come: So did my Fellows soon as they me saw Come skipping out o'th' Ship, with no less joy Than if they had been come to Ithaca Their Native Country from the Town of Troy. Our joy (said they) Ulysses cannot be Greater when we at Ithaca arrive,

Which we so wish for, than 'tis now to see That you from Circe are return'd a live. But tell us, pray, how di'd our Fellows there. But first (said I) hale up your Sh••p to Land, And in the Rocks hide all tha••'s loose in her, And come with me to Circe out of hand. There shall you see your Fellows how they live; In want of nothing that they can devise. To these my words my Fellows credit give; Eurylochus alone though otherwise. Wretches (said he) what mean you? will you go? Have you a longing to be Lions came, Or Swine, or Wolves, and being transformed so, To live at Circe's house, and guard the same? Remember Cyclips, and how all they sped That dar'd to put themselves within h••s Cave, By too much valour of Ulysses led. Bethink you well how you your selves may save. When I heard that, I drew my Sword, and meant, Although he were my Kinsman very nigh, T'have made his head fly. But of that intent I was made frustrate by the Company, That interposing spoke me lair, and said, Let him stay here, but we'll go every man, While he looks to the Ship, since he's afraid. Thus having said, to march they straight began: Nor staid Eurylochus behinde, for I Had so affrighted him he went with th'rest. Mean while at Circe's house my company Were bath'd and oyl'd, and cloath'd with Coar and Vest. Feasting we found them in a stately Hall. But when we saw them, and heard every thing That had befa••n them, suddenly we all Wept out so loud, as made the house to ring. Then Circe said, Ulysses why d'ye weep? I know your suffrings both at Land by men, And what you have endured on the Deep. Drink Wine, eat Meat, and merry be agen. Recruit your hearts with courage till they be As strong as when from home you first set out;

Put all your danger out of memory, Nor trouble more your weari'd minds with doubt. These words of Circe did our spirits chear, And made us willingly fall to our meat. Both then and ev'ry day throughout the year In Circe's house we freely drink and eat. But when the season was come round about, And months and days of th'year had made an end, Then my impatient Fellows call'd me out, And said, Strange man, do you no more intend To see your Country Ithaca? Shall we For ever stay with Circe here? Have Fates Decreed that you your house no more should see, But perish here together with your Mates? This my Companions said, and said but right. Then what remained of the day we spent Eating and drinking merrily. At night They to their own beds, I to Circe's went; Where prostrate at her knees, I press her hard To keep her word, and let me go my way; My mind, said I, is going thitherward Now, and my Fellows ask me why I stay. Renown'd Ulysses (answer'd Circe) here Against your will with me you shall not stay. But ere you go unto your Countrey dear, You must t Voyage make another way. You must to th'house of Hades first repair: For with Tiresias the Prophet blinde You must consult concerning your affair. He knows what course the Fates have you design'd. Though blinde his eye, yet is his judgment clear. For why, to him Proserpina alone Hath granted to peruse Fates Register, And know the History of things not done. The Ghosts to him stand up when he goes by. At this my heart was ready ev'n to break, And in the bed long time I weeping lie, And turn'd, and wish'd for death. At last I speak: Circe (said I) who shall me thither guide? Never man yet to Hell went in a ship.

Then to me Circe presently repled; Uysses, let not that thought break your sleep. You need but set your Mast up, hoise your sail, And t••en sit still; you shall not want a Winde: For Boreas to wast you will not fail. When you are come to th'Oceans end, you'll finde The woody Shore and Grove of Proserpine. There the tall Poplar, and soft Willow grows; And there it is your Bark you must put in. Then go along the shore to Pluto's house. And you shall see where into Acheron Cocytas falls which is a branch of Styx, And with it also Pyriphlegeton, And a great Rock where the two Rivers mix. Close by that place make with your Sword a Pit A Cubit wide, and round about it pour Wine m••••t with honey, and pure Wine after it; Then water pure, and over all throw Flow'r. Such is the drink that's offer'd to the dead. And further to them you must make a Vow, That when you be at home, and out of dread, You' I gratifie them with a barren Cow. But to Tiresias you must alone Promise at your return to kill a Ewe All over black. The Ceremonies done Which to the dead by common law are due, Then of the Bam and Ewe let out the blood Into the Pit; their heads to Hell-ward place, And turn your back, and so go tow'rd the Flood. Then shall you see the Ghosts come out apace. B••d your Companions mean while to flay The slaughter'd Sheep. To Pluto must you and To his Queen Proserpine your Prayers say, Then sit down at the Pit with Sword in hand. Let none come near the blood until you see Tiresias the Toeban Prophet come. 'Twill not be long before he with you be; He'll tell you all the ways to bring you home. This said, Aurora had the light displaid, And Circe cloath'd me with a Coat and Vest,

And with a pure white Robe her self arraid, With a Gold Girdle girt beneath her Breast; And put upon her Head her Vail. Then I Went through the house to make my fellows rise, And gently said unto the•• severally, Let's go; for Circe now doth so advise. And well content they were. But safe away I could not bring them all. For there was one Elpenor, neither forward in a Fray, Nor yet of very much discretion; Heated with Wine o'r night, himself to cool, Up to the houses top he went to sleep; But wak'd with noise the rest made, like a Fool Ne'r thought of coming down the stairs steep Backward; and so to th'earth he headlong fell, And broke his Neck-bone, & lay dead o'th' ground. And his Soul leaving him, went down to Hell. The rest came forth, and stood about me round. To these I said, You think without delay That we to Ithaca a••e going now; But Circe bids us go another way, Of old Tiresias the minde to know, The Theban Prophet, who is now in Heil. This broke the very heart-str••ngs of my Mates; They sob and tear their hair, but cannot tell How to avoid what's once decreed by th'Fates. Then to our Ship we weep••ng went. Mean space Circe a Ram and black Ewe there had ti'd Unseen to us, we found them on the place. For Gods, but when they list, cannot be spi'd.

LIB. XI.

WHen we were come unto the Sea-side, where Our Ship lay which we shov'd into the deep; VVe rear our Mast, pull up our Sads, & bear Aboard with us one Male, one Female Sheep. And so for Hell we stood, with fears in mind, And tears in eye. But the fair Circe sent To bear us company, a good fore-winde That kept our Sails full all the way we went. To winds and steerage we our way commend, And careless sit from morning till 'twas dark; Then found our selves at th'Oceans farthest end, VVhere up to Land the wind had forc'd our Bark. Here dwell the Cimbers hid in Clouds and Mist, VVhom thou, O Phoebus, with thy golden Eye, Nor coming from the Sky to Earth e're seest, Nor when from Earth thou mountest to the Sky; But live, poor men, under a horrid night. Here seek we for the place of which the wise Circe had told us, and soon on it light, And thither fetcht the sheep for sacrifice. Then with my Sword i'th' ground I dig'd a Pit, And round about it VVine with Hon••y pour; And round again pure VVine pour after it, Then water pure. O're all I sprinkle flour: And vowed to those feeble folk, to kill Assoon as I to Ithaca should come A barren Heiser, and the Altar fill VVith many more good things I had at home. And promis'd to Tiresias alone A fat black Ewe, the best in all my Coats.

When I my Vows and Pray'rs had ritely done, Of both the Victims straight I cut the throats. Their reaking blood stream'd down into the Pit; Out come the Ghosts, Maids, Youths, decrepit Age, And tender Virgins, they all sented it; And Warriours clad in goary Arms, all rage, And rushing out of Hell, with hideous cry, About the blood bustling they go and turn, Which not a little frighted me. Then I Bad flay the Victims, and their bodies burn, And say their Pray'rs to Pluto and his Queen. With Sword in hand I sat on the Pits brink, Resolv'd till I Tiresias had seen, That not a Ghost a drop of blood should drink. First came my Souldier Elpenor's Spirit, Which left the body just when we set sail, So that we had no leisure to inter it. His heavy fate I did with tears bewail. How now (quoth I) Elpenor? art thou here Already? Couldst thou me so much outstrip? I first came forth, and left thee in the Rear. Hast thou on foot out go••e my good black Ship? Then said Elpenor, Islue of Jove, Divire Ulysses, I had come along with th'Bark, But that the Devil and excess of Wine Made me to fall, and break my Neck i'th' dark. I went to bed late by a Ladder steep; At top o'th' house the Room was where I lay: Wak't at the noise of parting, half asleep Headlong I hither came, the nearest way. Now I adjure you by your Father, and Your Wife, and Son, and all his Seed to come (For I assured am that you will land Where Circe dwells before your going home) To see I have the Rites due to the dead. Fear th'anger of the Gods above, and burn My body with my arms, from foot to head. And cast on earth to cover o're my Urn. This done, for men hereafter sailing by, Raise me a little Tomb of Earth by th'shore,

That they may ear'ly see where 'tis I lie. Lastly, upon it upright plant my Oar. All this (quoth I) I'll do upon my word. Thus we discours'd amongst the shades. He stood While I continu'd with my naked Sword To keep the Sprights from tasting of the blood. Then came Anticlia my Mother's Ghost. Alive I left her when to Troy I fail••d To fight against it in the Argive Host. Now seeing her, exceedingly I wail'd. And though I grieved were to keep away My Mother from the loved blood; yet still In the same posture patiently I stay, Till I might know Tiresias his will. Then came the Soul of old Tiresias, And of the Gilded-Staff he had in's hand. Poor man (quoth he) perceiving what I was, What brought thee hither to this ugly Land? Stand back a while, and take your Sword away, That I may drink, and the Unerring word Of Fate deliver to you. I obey, Retire, and up I put my trusty Sword. Then said the good old Prophet, You are come, Honour'd Ulysses, to inquire of me, What the Gods say about your going home. I tell you true, 'twill not be easily. I think you'll not escape at Sea unseen Of angry Neptune, who I do not doubt Will do his worst, and make you feel his spleen, For Polyphemus eye which you put out. Yet for all that, you may to Ithaca Safely return, if you can but command Your passion when in th' Isle Thrinacia, An Island lying in your way you land. There feed the Kine of the all-seeing Sun, And Flocks of goodly Sheep. Hurt none of these, Then shall your Ship her course with safety run At length to Ithaca, though not with ease. But if you touch them, I denounce a wrack To your good Ship, and death to all your Crew.

And though your self may happen to come back At last, and this unhappy Fate eschew; 'Twill be alone, and in a ship not yours, Besides that, when you are returned home You'll fall into the danger of the Wooers, Who for your Wifes and Meats sake thither come. But you will be reveng'd of these; and when You shall have made away these Wooers, go With Oar on shoulder, to a Land where men Inhabit, that the briny Sea not know, Nor ever mingle salt with what they eat, Nor ever saw the ship with crimson face, Nor yet those Wings which do the water beat (Call'd Oars) to make your good ship go apace. Now mark me well, when thou shalt meet a man Just at the end of Neptune's utmost bound, Bearing upon his shoulder a Corn fan, Stick down thy lusly Oar upon the ground; There Sacrifice to the Worlds Admiral, For new admittance, a Ram, Boar and Bull; Then home again, and offer unto all The Gods by name an hundred Oxen full. Your death will not ungentle be, for which Age shall prepare you, and your Soul••unglew Insensibly. Your people shall be rich Which round about you dwell. All this is true. Tiresias (quoth I) when he had done, 'Tis well. My Mother yonder I esp••e Amongst the shades; she knoweth not her Son; What shall I do to make her know 'tis I? That (quoth he) I'can tell you easily. What Soul soever you admit to drink, To what you ask will make a true reply; Those you put back, back into He••l will slink. The Prophet having thus my fate foretold, Into the house of Pluto back retir'd. I o're the blood my former posture hold, But let my Mother drink as she desir'd. She knew••n••e then, and wept. My Son, said she, How came you to this place of ours so dark?

Th'Ocean and so many Gulphs there be 'Twixt you and us, that but with a good Bark No living man can pass. Come you but now From Troy, and all this while have wandring been You and your Company? You have I trow, Your wife Pen••lope by this time seen. Mother (said I) the cause I came this way VVas to ask counsel of Tiresias. Since I with Agamemnon went to Troy, In Ithaca or Greece I neve•• was. But Mother, tell me pray you, how came you Unto this place? was it by Sickness long? Or did Dia••a with a death undue Send you down hither to this feeble throng? And tell me if my Father and my Son Remain as formerly in their estate; Or that some Prince of Greece my wife have won, Supposing me now cast away by Fate. Tell me besides, whether Penelope Remain at home together with my Son, Assisting him to rule my Family; Or whether she be married, and gone. Your wife (said she) does still continue there; For your long absence weepeth days and nights. Your Son still holds his own, and makes good chea••, Oft he invited is, and oft invites. Your Father from his Vineyard never budges; Rich Coverlets and Bedding he refuses; Ne're comes to th'Town; in winter with his Drudges To lay him down, sleep by th'fire he uses. In vile array in Summer-time he creeps, Till Vintage pass, about his Fruit-trees round, And visits them each one; at night he sleeps On Bed of heaped leaves upon the ground. Thus lies he griev'd and pining with the thought Of your sad fate, afflicted too with age. The like sad thoughts me also hither brought. I neither died by Diana's rage, Nor any long consuming Malady; But very woe, thinking that you, were dead,

My Noble dear Ulysses, made me die; My Soul thus hither from my Body fled. When she had spoken, I would very fain Have ta'ne her in my arms; three times I graspt At the beloved Shadow, but in vain. Mine arms I closed, but did nothing clasp. Sore griev'd hereat, I said unto my Mother, I am your Son, why do you fly me so? Why may we not embracing one another, Although in Hell, give ease unto our woe? Hath Proserpine, my sorrows to augment, Sent me a Phantome in my Mothers stead? Oh no (quoth she) my Son, sh'ad no intent T'abuse you. 'Tis the nature of the Dead. We are no longer Sinews, Flesh and Bones; We are Substances Incorporeal. All that's consumed i'th' Fun'ral fire: when once That's done, it in it self stands several; Flies like a Dream. No, go your ways to th'light, And tell all I have told you to your Wife, That she may know in this perpetual night The dead enjoy an everlasting life. When we had thus discours't, the Ladies came Sent out by Proserpine to taste the blood; Daughters and Wives to Princes of great Fame, And round about me at the Pit they stood. But I to know each one that came to drink, Studi'd a while; then thought this counsel best, With Sword in hand t'abide upon the brink, Whilst one was drinking to keep off the rest. There was not one but I enquir'd her name And Pedegree. All told me who they were. And fi••st of all the well-born Tyro came, Who said Salmoneus was her Ancestor, And that of Cretheus she had been the Wife, And on Enipeus had enamour'd been Once on a time whilst she remain'd in life, On Enipeus fa••r'st stream that e're was seen. Upon whose Bank N••ptune that chanc't to spy her, On Enipeus sweet stream drew her aside,

And at the Rivers mouth laid him down by her Between two Waves rais'd high, their deed to hide. When he Loves work had done, Thou shalt (said he) E're th'year be ended, bring forth Children twain, Who Princes both of great Renown shall be. I Neptune am; the Gods ne'r work in va••n. See you that they be educated well Till they shall be at mans estate arriv'd. So ••o you home: my Name you must not tell. This said, into the rowling Sea he div'd. Her time being come, she was delivered Of two great Boys, Neleus and Pelias, Who for the service of high Jove were bred. One King of Pile, th'other of Iolcas was. The noble Lady Tyro, beside•• these, Did many other goodly Children bear: Amatheon, and Aeson, and Pheres; But these her Husband Cretheus Children were. Next came the Daughter of Aesopus (who Through Theban fertil Plains and Meadows runs) Antiope. Of Jove she boasteth too, That by him she conceived had two Sons; Their names were Z••thus and Amphion. They The Founders were of Thebes; with walls & Towers, And sev'n strong Gates they fenc't it ev'ry way Against Invasion from all Neighb'ring Powers. Amphitrion's wife Alcmena there I saw, That lov'd by Jove brought Hercules to life. And the King Cretheus Daughter Megara, That was the Mighty Hercules his wife. I saw there also the unfortunate Mother of O••dipus, Jocasta bright, That blindly did a horrid act, by fate, Which the Gods pleasure was should come to light. Not knowing him, she marri'd her own Son; Not knowing him, he his own Father slew: When they perceived both what they had done, She hang'd her self; her Furies him pursue. Chloris I saw, whom Neleus did wed For beauty, got by the Son of J••••••eus;

And with great Dowse he gain'd her to his bed; Her Father Amphion rul'd Orchomenus. She Queen of Pyle, by Neleus had three Boys: Nestor, Chronius, Periclumenus; And one fair Daughter to make full their joys, Pero by name, for beauty wonderous. The Princes round about were Suiters to her; But Iphiclus had Neleus Cattle ta'ne, And Neleus was resolved to bestow her On him that could his Herds fetch back again. There was a Prophet undertook the Task; But ta'ne by Clowns, and into Prison pent, For answ'ring Iphyclus t'all he could ask Was freed, and did the thing he underwent. I saw the Wise too of Tyndareus there, Fair Leda; she two Twins unto him bare, Pollux good Cuffer, Castor Cavalier: Twins, and alive, though under ground they are. And have obtained of their Father Jove Both to be Canonized Gods; but so, As he that is to day in Heav'n above, Shall be to morrow amongst men below. Iphimedea, Alciaeus Wife I saw, that did two Sons to Neptune bear, Otus, and Ephialtes; of short life, The greatest, and the fair'st that ever were Except Orion; each at nine years old Between the Shoulders was nine Cubits wide, And was in length nine Cubits four times told, And all the Gods in Heaven terrifi'd; And threatned them with war, and Heav'n to storm. They Ossa set upon Olympus high, And Pelius on Ossa; and so form Against the Sky a mighty Battery: And surely they had storm'd it had they been At mans estate. Their Beards were not yet grown. Apollo kill'd them with his Arrows keen, E're on their Cheeks appeared any Down. Phaedra and Procris there I also saw, And Minos Daughter Ariadne, whom

••e••eus was bringing towards Attica From Creta; but he could not bring her home, Diana killed her in Dia Isle On Bacchus quarrel. There I did behold Mera and Ciymene, and th'VVoman vile Eryphile that her own Husband sold. To name the Ladies all I saw, would make My Tale to last all night. 'Tis bed-time now Here or aboard, though not till you think fit; Till you think fit, and give command to row. This said, the Company deep silence seiz'd, Delighted with the things they heard him speak. The Queen her self Arete no less pleas'd, At last resolv'd the silence thus to break. Princes, what think you of this man so rare, His Look, his Stature, and his Noble Heart? My Guest he is, but you have all a share In th'honour of this Visit. E're he part Make him a Present to rel••eve his need. Be liberal, have no respect to thrift; For you the Gods from fear of want have freed With wealth abundant. Do not pinch your Gift. Old Echin••us said, The Queen says right; We shall do well her counsel to obey: But since in King Alcinous lies the might, 'Tis better first to hear what he will say. Then said Alcinous, It shall be so, Unless I bear the name of King in vain; Let not the Stranger till to morrow go; Till we prepare our Gift he must remain. As for his Passage we will all provide, And chiefly I that do the Scepter bear. To whom the wise ulysses thus repli'd: Renown'd Alcinous that Reignest here, Though a whole year you should command my stay, It will not rouble me. Nay, that I'd chuse, Since you intend to send me rich away: For I am sure I shall no honour loss By coming richly home. Kings that have store Of wealth, are better commonly obey'd,

And by their Subjects are respected more, Than those whose Treasuries and Chests are void. There be (the King said) many that can lie; But there is form and sense in all you say: Both your own Fate you tell with Harmony, And of the Greeks with whom you went to Troy. I should be well content to sit up here All the night long, so you would undertake To tell me ev'ry thing that you saw there. To him Ulysses then did answer make: Renowned King Alcinous, you know There is a time for talk, a time for rest; But since you long to hear, I'll tell you now Whom else I saw, and what Fate them opprest. And first the sadd••st end of tho••e that had Escap'd the fury of the Enemy, And in their Countries landed were and glad, Were murther'd by a Womans Treachery. The Female Ghosts scatter'd by Proserpin••, Some one way, some another, thither came Atrides Soul, first of the Masculine; And others with him, whose Fates were the same. No sooner he the blood had tasted, but He knew me, sorely wept, and would have cast His arms about my waste, but could not do't: For now alas his strength was gone and past. I grieved to see him, and thus to him said: King Agamemnon, what Fate brought you hither? Were you by Neptune on the Sea betrai'd, And hither sent by fury of the weather? Or landing to finde Booty, me•• with Death? Or else besieging of some Town were slain? Or for fair Women were bereav'd of breath? Then Agamemnon answer'd me again: Noble-Ulysses, I lost not my life By Neptune''s fury, nor in fight at Land For Booty or for Women; but my wif•• Did basely kill me by Aegistus hand. At my first landing he invited me, And slew me then when I at Supper sate.

Just as a man would kill a Cow, so he Kill'd me. There's no such woful death as that. My Friends were butcher'd like so many Swine, Which when within a mighty rich mans Hall Numbers of men invited are to dine At Wedding, or at Feast, are made to fall. You very many men have seen to die In ranged Battle, and in single Fight; But never felt such pity certainly As you had felt, had you but seen this fight, How we 'mongst Tables on the ground did he That ran with blood. But my heart most did rue To hear Cassandra, Priam's Daughter, cry, Whom close beside me Clytemnestra slew. Then though I were at the last gasp, I tri'd If groaping I might finde my fallen Sword: But the curst woman pusht it from my side. I di'd, to close mine eyes she'd not afford. Nothing so cruel as a Woman yet Did Nature ere produce; a thought so ill In any other breast did never sit, As her own loving Husbands blood to spi••l. Yet this my Wife, to the eternal Shame Of all the Sex, not only of the bad, But ev'n of those that have no evil Fame, Betrai'd my Life, and of my Death was glad. Jove meant to Atreus Seed (said I) great spight By Woman-kinde. By Helen first. At Troy For her sake many lost their lives in fight, And Clytemnestra now did you betray. Therefore (said Agamennon) never trust A Woman more, although she be your own. Tell her not all you think Somewhat you must. And somewhat keep t'your self, to her unknown. But you Ulysses need not fear your wife, Icareus Daughter, fair Penelope; She loves you better than to take your life: A Wife so wise will scorn disloyalty. VVhen we for Troy set forth together, then She gave suck to your Son; but he is grown

A man by this time, and takes place with men; Is rich, and one day shall his Father own, And he and you at home embrace each other. But I was not allow'd my Son to see; But was first murder'd by his wicked Mother. Now hear ye, if you will be rul'd by me, Let no man know before-hand, when and where You mean to land in Ithaca. Beware Or suffering your Bark in sight t'appear. Remember still, women unfaithfull are. But tell me, have you nothing all this while Heard of my Son Orestes? whether he At Sparta with his Uncle be, or Pyle: For dead he is not, I know certainly. Alas (sa••d I) Atrides, How should I That wand'ring was at Sea, hear any news Whether alive or dead he be? Or why Should I with Tales uncertain you ab••se? Discoursing thus, and weeping there we stood, When Great Achilles Soul appear'd to us; And with him also the two Spir••ts good Of flout Patroclus, and Antilochus, The Soul of Ajax, Son of Telamon, Was also there, who 'mongst those Warriours tall The goodliest Person was, except the Son Of Peleus, who did much excel them all. Achilles drank, and presently me knew, And said, Ulysses, what brought you to Hell? What Plot upon the Dead you hither drew, Where none but Shades of wretched Mortals dwell? Achilles (said I) I was fo••c'•• to come T'inquire of th'Wizard, old Tiresias, What the Fates say about my going home, Whether or no, and how 'twill come to pass. For since I came from Troy I have not seen Not Ithaca, nor any Grecian shore: For tost and crost at Sea I still have been; But you are now as well as heretofore. Like any God we honour'd you at Troy, And here among the Ghosts you are obey'd.

Death hath not chang'd your state. You still enjoy A Regal Power. To this Achilles said: Talk not to me of Honour here in Hell; I'd rather serve a Clown on earth for bread, Than be of all things Incorporeal That are, or ever shall be, Supreme Head. But tell me of my Son Neoptolemus, Whether he came to Troy, and how he fought; And of my aged Father Peleus, Whether he keep h••s place, or be put out. For since much time his vigour hath decaid, Some Foe, it may be hath usurpt his place In Pthia, and in Hellas where he swaid, And put h••m with his people in disgrace. But were I now above, and strong as then. When for the Greeks I fought at Ilium, And slew so many of their bravest men, And to my aged Fathers house should come; If there I were, 'twould not be very long Before I made some of their hearts to ake That go about to do my Father wrong, And would by force his honour from him take. When he had done, I made him answer thus: Concerning Peleus I can nothing say; But of your Son, stout Neptolemus, I know enough; 'twas I brought him to Troy From Scyros Isle In Councel always he First spake his minde, and never spake but well. Nestor, and I sometimes, and only we Th'advice he gave were able to refel. In fight he sought no shelter in the throng, But ever out he ran before the rest, To shew his courage and his strength among Those Foes that were in Troy esteem'd the best. The names of all he slew I cannot tell; They are too many. But' was by his Sword That Great Eurypylus in Batt••e fell, Of all the Trojan Aids the goodlist Lord, Excepting Memnon. After, when we were Wi••hin the Wooden-Horse conceal'd, and I

The power had of ord'ring all things there, I never saw your Son to wipe his eye, Or to wix pale, as many of us did. He ever longed to be set on land From out the hole in wh••ch we all lay hid; And to his Hilt he often put his hand, And often to his Spear. And when at list We won and rifled had the Town of Troy, He home into his Countrey safely past, His Ship well laden with his part o'th' prey. And which is more, he came off safe and sound, Though Mars each way threw deaths and wounds Amongst the croud, he ne'r received wound Neither from them that shot, nor them that fought. about This said, the swift Achilles Soul retir'd, Strutting into the Mead of Asphodel, Proud of his Son, to hear what he desir••d. Then other grieved Souls their stories tell. Only the Soul of Ajax stood off mute And sullen, because I did from him bear Achilles Armour in that sad Dispute, Where Pallas and the Trojans Judges were. I would I had not had that Victory, Which cost the life of him that was the most Admir'd by all, for form and Chivalry, Except Achilles, in the Argive Host. I gently to him spake. Ajax, said I, Forget that cursed Armour now at last; And since you dead are, let your anger die: For why the Gods determin'd had to cast Those Arms amongst us for a punishment, Offended with us, what e're was the matter, And us'd them as an Engine, with intent Our greatest Tower, which was your self, to batter. For whom the Argives did lament no less Than for Achilles, Thet is Son. Come nigh, And hear what I can answer, and suppress Your mighty heart a while. So ended I. To this just nothing he repli'd, but went Int' Erebus 'mongst other Shadows d••m;

Yet there, I think, he would have been content To speak to me, if I to speak to him. But I desired others Souls to see. Then Minos there, the Son of Jove I saw With Golden Scepter, dealing Equity To Souls that stood, and sate to hear the Law. Next after him I saw the Great Orion; A mighty Club he carried in his hand; And hunted the wilde Boar, and Bear, and Lion, Which when he lived he had kill'd on Land. There also saw I Titius. He lay Upon his back, stretch't out full acres nine. He the fair Leto had upon the way To Pytho injur'd; Leto Jove's Concubine. Two Vultures on his Breast, on each side, one, Sate dipping of their Beaks into his Liver. He stirreth not, but lets them still alone; And thus devouring it, they stay for ever. And Tantalus I saw up to the Chin In water clear, and longing fore to drink; But as he bow'd himself to take it in, Some Devil always made the water sink. Close o're his head hung pleasant Fruit, and ripe Pears and Pomegranals, Olives, Apples, Figs; Which ever when he ready was to gripe, A sudden winde still whiskt away the Twigs. And Sisyphus I saw, who 'gainst the Hill With hands and feet a heavy stone doth roll; But when unto the top he brings it, still The naughty stone falls back into the hole. Then to't he goes afresh, with no less pain He heaves and sweats, and dusty is all o're. And when 'tis up, he labour'd has in vain, For still it serves him as it did before. Then Hercules I saw, I mean his Spright, For he is with th'Immortal Gods above, And taken has to wife H••be the bright, Daughter of Juno, and of Mighty Jove. The dead about him made a fearful cry, Like frighted Fowl. A Golden Belt he wore

With wilde Beasts wrought, and slaughters cunningly, The like shall never be, nor was before. He saw, and knew me presently, and spake; Renown'd Ulysses, why left you the light? Alas, were you constrain'd to undertake This task, as I was, by a meaner Wight? Who, though Jove's Son I was did me constrain Full many other labours t'undergo. But he thought this would put me to most pain, Th'Infernal Dog upon the Earth to show. I did it though, and drag'd him up to th'light, By Mercury's, and by Athenas aid. Having thus said, he vanisht out of sight 'Mongst other Phantoms. But I still there staid, Hoping more Hero's of th'old time to see; And more had surely seen of Heav'nly Race, These is, Pirythous, whom t'had pleased me, If longer I had dar'd to keep my place. For then, from out of Hell, with hideous cry, Thousands of Souls about me gathered, And frighted me; but most afraid was I, Lest Proserpine should send out Gorgon's Head. Then went I to my Ship and Company, And for a while our Oars at Sea we pli'd: But after we were on the Main, then we A fair Gale had, and past the Ocean wide.

LIB. XII.

THence over th'Ocean back we come away, And at the Isle Aeaea we arrive. There are the Bowers of Aurora gay; There 'tis that Phoebus doth the day revive: And there we disimbark upon the Sand, And having slept a while, attend the day. When day was come, my Fellows I command To fetch Elpenor's body dead away. With wood from off a Promontory near, Weeping, his Body we to ashes burn Together with his Arms, and th'earth we rear (To be a Monument) upon his Urn; And on the same we fix his Oar upright. These Ceremonies done, came the Divine Circe, that knew we landed were that night. Her Maids brought to us bread, & meat, and wine. And standing in the midst, Poor men (said she) That come from Hell, and thither must again; Twice-mortals, take your food, and merry be With flesh and lusty wine, forget your pain. To morrow you shall fail again, and I Will to you all your dangers open lay, Lest you by same malicious subtilty, By Land or Sea, should perish by the way. This pleas'd us well, and all day long we sate Eating and drinking wine, until 'twas dark, And somewhat e're we saw it evening late, My Mates lay down to sleep beside the Bark. Then Circe led me by the hand aside, And askt me all that I had seen in Hell;

Nor any thing at all from her I hide. 'Tis well, said she. Now hear what I you tell. First you must pass the Sirens, who invite All Passengers that Sail before the place To land. But whosoever lands, that wight Of's Wife and Children ne're more sees the face. These Sirens in a Meadow sit and sing, Where dead mens bones in heaps about them lie Rotting, and rivel'd skins lie scattering. Pass on, and their enchanting Musick fly. Command your Mates to tie you to the Mast; And that if you make signes to be set free, They heed you not, but binde you still more fast. That you alone may hear their Melody, Dam up your Fellows ears with chafed wax. When you are gotten out of hearing quite, And have the Sirens far off at your backs, Another danger soon will come in sight. Two ways there are; but which of them to take I'll not advise you, both of them are naught. Your self upon the place your judgment make, Of which I'll give you only a short draught. Two Rocks there be that with inclining brow Hang o're the Sea, which roaring runs between; By th'name of Wanderers the Gods them know, Because in changed posture they are seen. Whereof the one does to such height ascend, That never any Birds that way take wing, Nor fearful Doves when they to Heaven tend, Ambrosia to th'Immortal Gods to bring. One of these Rocks doth vanish now and then, But Jove still sets another in its stead. This way ne're Ship did safely carry men, But dash'd was 'gainst the Rocks, and perished. The good Ship Argo only pass'd that way To and from Colchos safely; yet that too Had perish'd, but that Juno did convey The same (for love she bare to Jasun) through. The other Rock unmov'd, with pointed head, Pierceth the Clouds, and reaches to the Sky

In Winter, and in Summer's covered, And wrapped up in Mists perpetually. Nor could a mortal man climb up unto 't, Although he were indu'd with twenty hands, And with as many nimble feet to boot, So smooth it is, and so upright it stands. ••th midst o'th' Rock you'll see a Cavern dark That looketh Westward. That way you must row. The mouth o'th' Cave is more above your Bark Than th'youngest man can shoot to with a Bowe. There 'tis that Scylla dwells and barks: her voice Like to a Lions whelps voice is; but she A mighty Monster is; 'twould not rejoyce A God, much less a man her shape to see. Twelve feet she has in all, and ugly ones. Six huge long necks; and to each neck a head. And in each head for teeth sh'has rows of bones, And every row of them envenomed. Half of her body in the Cave she hides; But all her Heads she putteth out and watches For Dog-fish, Dolphins, and what Fish besides The Sea afford••, & Whales she sometimes catches. Ne're did bold Sa••ler boast that pass'd that way, That he had scaped safely by her Den; Or that a mouth of hers did want its prey, But from him snatch'd away some of his men. The Rock that's opposite is not so high, But there the passage is exceeding narrow. For you, Ulysses, if you please to try, From side to side can eas'ly shoot an arrow. Out of this Rock grows a great Sycamore, Under the which Charybdis hidden lies, And suddenly the water does devour, And suddenly again she makes it rise. Thrice in a day the water rises high, And thrice a day again the same doth fall. But when it talls, take heed you be not nigh; Keep Scylla side; better lose six than all. When she had made an end: Goddess, said I, Tell me I pray you when I have go••t free

From th'evil which Charybdis means me, why On Scylla I may not avenged be. Fie, fie, quoth she, are you at fighting ••till? Dare you against the Gods oppose your might? For Scylla is an everlasting ill. Row on apace, and save your selves by flight. 'Gainst such a Monster remedy there's none, But row as fast as e're you can away. For if you stay to put your Armour on, She'll stoop again, and take another prey. Row swiftly on, and to Cratais cry, That in her Belly the foul Monster bore, And she will keep her in as you go by, That she shall not assault you any more. Next at Torinacia-Isle you shall arrive, Where feed the Suns broad-horned Kine & Sheep. Sev'n Herds there be, in each one ten times five, As many Flocks, which Sol's two Daughters keep, Phaeti••sa and Lampetio Divine; Their Mother was Neaera that did bear And bring them up, and to them did assigne The keeping of their Fathers Cattle there: These if you suffer quietly to feed, You shall get home again, though with some pain; But if you hurt them, know it is decreed Your Ship and Men shall perish in the Main. And though your se••f you save, your Ship you'll loose, And Mates, and in your passage finde delay. This said, the Rosie-finger'd Morning rose, And Circe up the Island went her way. But I went to my Ship, and call'd my Crew To come aboard. Aboard they quickly come, And sitting each man in his order due, VVith stroak of oars they make the grey Sea foam. The Goddess Circe also was so kind, As when we were gone off, and Sails had spread, To fill them w••th a favourable wind. So sate we while the Steers-man governed. Then to my Mates with heavy heart I spake: Not one or two of you alone must hear

What Circe said, but a••l, that you may take Your own advice, since 'tis a common fear. You must not hear the Sirens melody, But row with all you might till we be past. To me alone she gives that liberty, But so as first you binde me to the Mast. Binde me you must upright both hand and foot, And so as I may not the knot unknit: And if I wink upon you to undo't, Then take more Cord and binde me faster yet. Whilst I my Fellows thus informing stood, The Island of the Sirens came in sight: For nimble was our ship, and the winde good; But suddenly we were becalmed quite. Some Daemon sure had laid the Waves asleep. Then took we in our Sails, and laid them by, And with our Oars in hand provokt-the Deep, And in a milky path we forward ply. Then from a Ball of Wax I pinch a bit, Chafe it, and into th'ears of one it put; And so to all in order as they sit. Which soon was done, the weather being hot. Then streight they rise and binde me to the Mast At th'arms and feet: the knot behind they tie; And then upon their seats themselves they plac'd, And row'd till to the Island we were nigh, When to the Island we were come so nigh, As that a man that hollows may be heard, The Sirens knowing when we should come by, Had tun'd themselves, and had their Song prepar'd. Come, come, much prais'd Ulysses, come away, The brightest glory of the Greeks come near: No mortal man did ever come this way, That did not to our Musick lend an ear. Delight they sound, and wisdom carried hence. S••ay, stay your good black sh••p, forbear a while To beat the Sea; please and inform your se••se. Come disimbark your selves upon our Isle. We know what feats of Arms were done at Troy Between the Greeks and Trojans all along.

We know what's done on th'whole earth every day. Come, come a land, and listen to our Song, And this they sung with so much harmony And sweetness in their voices, that I fain Would have recovered my liberty, And to them winkt, to be set loose again. But 'twould not be. My Mates regard my words, And not my winks, and sit still at the Oar. Eurylochus and Perimede bring Cords, And binde me harder than they did before. When we had left the Sirens at our backs So far as not to hear them any more, My fellows from their ears pull out the Wax, And me unto my liberty restore. We had not sailed far, when there appear••d An angry Sea before us all in smoke; And thumping of the migh••y Waves, we heard Upon the stubborn Rocks at every stroke. Besides, the Sea so mighty loud did roar, As with one dismal Hum it fill'd the Ear, And made my Mates each one let fall his Oar, So much their Senses were benum'd with fear. Still stood the Bark. Then I among them go With gentle words, new courage to convey Into their failing hearts, to make them row; And passing by, to every one I say: My Friends, we all have many dangers past, And greater much than what we now do fear. Remember how from Polyphemus vast By my good conduct we deliver'd were. I do not doubt but you remember it. My counsel therefore also now obey. Row close along the shore, the Gods may yet Deliver us, but by no other way. But you that have the guiding of the Ship, Steers-man, to you I speak, mark what I say, Steer her without the Smoke; for if she slip Aside, though little, we are cast away. This said, my Fellows speedily obey'd. Of th'Monster Scylla not a word I told;

Lest they should throw away their Oars, dismaid, And for their shelter run into the Hold. But Circe's counsel I had quite forgot. I arm'd my self, and took into my hand Two Spears, though she expresly had said not; And looking upwards at the head I stand. But she appeared not. I look'd so high And long upon the hideous Rock, my sight Began to fail, and now we were close by That dismal streight, which doth us all affright. Here Scylla stands, and the Charybdis dire Lies vomiting the Sea, which sings and dances Like water in a Kettle o're the fire, And vapours to the highest Rocks advances. But when the Sea it sucketh in again, It sounds like thunder in the hollow stone. And we could see the bottom very plain; Sandy it was, and black to look upon. Whilst we our eyes upon Charybdis fix, And stand amazed at the horrid sight, Suddenly Scylla stoopt, and snatch'd up fix Of the best men I had to row o•• fight. I from the Ship that never stir'd my eye, Soon saw their sprauling arms and legs i'th' air, And heard them lamentably to me cry, And name me in their uttermost despair. As Fishers in a Horn mix fraud and food, And from the Bank at th'end of a long Wand, To catch the Fry cast it into the Flood, Then pluck them up, and throw them on the land: So lifted were my Mates. Of my mishaps This was the saddest I did ever see, When she my men cham'd in her ugly Chaps, Roaring and holding out their hands to me. From Scylla we unto the Island row. Where feeding were Sol's sacred Sheep and Kine. Before we landed I could hear them low; Which brought into my minde the Prophesie Of old Tiresias the Theban Bard, That counsel'd me this Island for to shun

Of Circe also I like counsel heard, And not to land i' th' Island of the Sun. Then speaking to my Fellows, Friends, said I, This Island sacred is to Sol; this place Tiresias and Circe both bid fly, And not to disimbark in any case. For if we do, for certain they declare The greatest mischief that e're men befel: Therefore keep out to Seaward, and beware Of landing here, and then we shal be well. But then Eurylochus to me began: You have, Ulysses, a hard heart, quoth he; There is no labour but you bear it can; Your limbs of stubborn steel composed be. But you consider not your Mates are ti••'d With their continual tugging at the Oar, And that refreshment is and sleep requi••'d, Which is not to be had but on the shore. But you would have us wander in the night, When in the night the greatest winds arise, The bane of ships; and when depriv'd of light, To save our selves we can no way devise. What if great winds should blow from South or West, Which often happens, though their King not know Or not consent? Therefore I think it best To night to sup ashore, to morrow row. So said Eurylochus, and was commended By all my Mates and presently I knew One Daemon or another had intended To ruine me, together with my Crew. Then said I to Eurylochus, 'Twere vain To strive against ••o many men alone. But you shall take an Oath that you'••l abstain From hurting of the Cattle of the Sun. Of Cir••e's meat there's lest us yet good store. This said, they took the Oath; which having done, They put into the Harbour, and ashore They Sup. And when their hunger now was gone, Their Mates remembring that in th' hollow Rock By th' monster Scylla were devour'd, they weep

And wall, and with their hands they knock Their breasts, and in that posture fell asleep. The Stars had climb'd a third part of the Sky, When with a Whirl-winde Jove together fetcht The Clouds from ev'ry patt, and suddenly On Sea and Land a dismal night was stretcht. And when the Rosie-finger'd Morning came, Our Ship we to a hollow Cave advance, Wherein the Sea-Nymphs Seats and Couches have, And where they are accustomed to dance. Thither I call'd my Mates, and said again; Friends, we have meat and drink aboard, be wise, And from the Herds and Flocks of Sol abstain, Who heareth all we say, and all espies. To this did my Companions all assent. But for a month there blow no other wind Than South and East; so that we there were pent I'th'Island longer than we had design'd. My Mates, whilst they had bread and meat aboard, Forbore to meddle with the Sacred Kine: And fetch'd in what the Island did afford Of Fish and Fowl, to have wherewith to dine. Up I into the Island went aside, The Conduct of th'Immor al Gods t'implore, That some of them 'twould please to be my Guide, And me unto my Countrey to restore. And in a place defended from the wind I wash'd my hands; and then with tears and sight Before the Gods I poured out my minde, And they a sweet sleep poured on my eyes. Mean time Eurylochus bad counsel gives To his Companions. All deaths, quoth he, Are hateful to what thing soever lives: But death by hunger is the worst can be. Let's kill some of the fattest of these Cows, And sacrifice unto the Gods on high; And to appease the Sun, let's all make Vow•• To build a Temple to his Deity Enrich'd with Gifts. If not content with this, For a sew Cows displeas'd he seek our death,

For once to gape and die, far better 'tis Than strive with hunger till we lose our breath. This said, my Fellows all his counsel take, And chase Sol's sacred Herds, that graz'd hard by; And then for recompence their Vows they make To build a Temple to his Deity. But when they made their Vows, Chaplets they wear Of tender leaves pluckt from the spreading Oak. VVhite Barley they had none, the which men bear, VVhen in their danger they the Gods invoke. After the vow perform'd, the Kine they slay, And take their Thighs and cover them with fat; And one of them upon the other lay, To burn upon the Altar. After that, Their Offering of Drink they pour'd upon The Altar, as the Sacrifice they barn. It ought t'have been of VVine; but having none, They pour'd on water fair, which serv'd the turn. When th'Entrails by my Fellows eaten were, And fire consumed had the Sacrifice, The rest they roast on Spits, and made good chear. Just then it was that sleep forsook my eyes. And back again I walk'd down tow••rds the shore. But coming near, perceiv'd the vapour rise Of roasted meat. Then to the Gods I rore, You give me sleep, and take away my life; So strange a thing my Mates the while have done. Swiftly Lampetio to Heav'n flies, And carries up the news unto the Sun. The Sun in choler all the Gods defies, Unless they right him of this injury. Jove Father, and you other Powers Divine, Revenge me of Ulysses Company That have so insolently slain my Kine. It was my joy to see them in the Morn, And in the Evening, e're I went to bed. Revenge me, O ye Gods! of this their scorn, Or I'll go down to Hell and light the Dead. No Phoebus (answer'd Jove) hold up your light For Gods and mortal Men to see their way.

As for the men that did you this despight, Their Ship at Sea with Lightning I'll destroy. At this discourse in Heaven was Hermes by, And heard his Father make this sad Decree: And he again told all this History To th'fair Calypso, and she told it me. VVhen to my Fellows I was come, I rate Them all full bitterly, and one by one; But all in vain, for now it was too late: The Gods by Signes detested what was done. The skins did creep, the flesh o'th' Spits did low, Both raw and roast. Six days in th'Isle we staid Feasting on Phoebus Kine, the seventh we row; For then the fury of the winde was laid. VVhen we were out at Sea we fix our Mast, And up into the winde our Sails we draw, And had the Isle so far behind us cast, That nothing else but Sky and Sea we saw. Then Jove, when far from Land he saw our ship, Just over it a dismal black Cloud hung, VVhich made it dark as Night upon the Deep; And then our good ship run not very long. For presently from VVest a sudden blast Came roaring in, and vehemently strains And breaks the Cordage that upheld the Mast; VVhich falling down, beats out the Steerers brains. He drops into the Sea. The Mast hangs o're At Stern. The Yards lie cross the sink. And all the while both Heaven and Sea did rore VVith Thunder loud, which made our hearts to shrink. And by and by into the ship Jove threw His Thunder bolt, which whirl'd it round about. It smelt of Sulphur rank; and all my Crew Into the Sea it suddenly threw out. They like to Gulls from wave to wave were born, But I kept still aboard, till at the last The Rudder from a-stern the Ship was torn, And fell into the Sea, and with't the Mast. The Mast had hanging on it broken Ropes, VVherewith I bound them both together fast,

And sare upon them as my latest hopes, Until the fury of the Storm was past. The storm now laid, th'wind came about to th'South, And carri'd me before it, till the Sun Next morning rose; and then we were i'th'mouth Of dire Charybdis, just when she begun To swallow up the Sea. Then up leapt I, And on the spreading Sycamore laid hold. But to't I could not climb; the boughs so high I could not reach: and far off was the root. There by the hands I hung, expecting when Charybdis should cast up the Sea, and bring The Rudder and the Mast to th' top agen. Mean while, in th'air I patiently swing. What time the Judge ariseth from his seat, Ending the brabbles of contentious men, And all come weary home to take their meat, Then came my Mast and Rudden up agen. And I into the Sea close by them drop. Then having soon recovered them, again I place my self a stride, once more, a top; And with my hands I rowed on the Main. If Scylla this had seen, undoubtedly I had been lost. But 'twas the grace of Jove, That all this while she did not me espy, But kept her self retir'd i'th' Rock above. Thus wandred I at Sea nine days out-right. O'th' tenth at night the Gods brought me to land In th' Isle Ogygia, where Calypso bright Receiv'd me with a charitable hand. But how she treated me, I need not say; You and the Queen already know it well, From the Relation I made yesterday; Nor do I love the same Tale twice to tell.

LIB. XIII.

THis said, all silent and delighted were. Alcinous then said, Ulysses, since You safely to me are arrived here, You shall not lose your way in going hence. But Princes you that daily with me sit, Drinking good Wine, and hearing Musique sweet, And given to the Stranger have what's fit, I'll tell you what yet farther I think meet. Garments he has a Chest-full, and good store Of Gold, Plate, and of other Gifts he has. Take my advice. Let each man give him more, A Caldron, or a three-foot Pot of Brass. I know to each man 'twill be too great largess, But by the Peoples Contribution We'll make amends. The Town shall bear the charges. The motion pleas'd, and 'twas agreed upon. Then went they ev'ry man to his repose. And soon as Morning did again appear, Aboard the Ship the Vessel they dispose. Alcinous himself directed where. And then into the Palace they return, And sacrifice to Jove a well-fed Beast, The Thighs upon the Altar there they burn; And with the rest they make themselves a Feast. Demodocus before them sung and plaid, Who for his Art was famous in the Town. Ulysses to the Sun lookt up, and staid Longing and wishing that it would go down. As one that hath at Plough been all the day, Hungry his Belly, feeble is his Knee,

Beholds the setting of the Sun with joy; So glad Ulysses was Sun-set to see. Then to Alcinous and all the rest, Offer, said he, unto the Gods their VVine. I have already all that I request, And many Gifts, which may the Fow'rs Divine Make happy to me. Let me now depart, That I may see my dear VVife and my Friends. And blest may you stay here with joy at heart, Comfort your VVives, and obtain all your ends. And strong and worthy Children may you have; Nor 'mongst the people trouble or disease. This said, they prais'd him all, and counsel gave The Stranger to conduct safe or'e the Seas. Alcinous then call'd for VVine, and bad Pontonous present it to each one, Until unto the Gods all offer'd had, That so Ulysses sooner might be gone. Pontonous brought VVine, and carri'd it From man to man; and each man drank his Cup, Blessing the Gods in order as they sit. VVhen all had drunk, Ulysses standeth up, And speaking to Queen Arete, he said, Happy for ever may you be, O Queen, I take my leave. Be you for ever ••oy'd In King Alcinous as you have been, And in your Children and your People all. And when he this had said, away he went. Alcinous did then a Squier call, VVhom with Ulysses to the Ship he sent. Arete to her women sent. One brought Fine bread and store of black wine of the best. Another brought with her a Cloak and Coat. Another brought, to lay them in, a Chest. Which by the Marriners were quickly stow'd Aboard the good Ship, with the wine and bread. And for Ulysses many Rugs they strow'd O'th' Deck, a stern, with lin••en at his head. And then aboard he went. VVhen he was lain, Their Seats they take, and parted from the Strand,

Reclining dasht with Oars the liquid plain, While sleep Ulysses bound had foot and hand. As when four Horses gallop o're a plain, The way runs swiftly by the Coaches side; So did the good Ship mount upon the Main, And to the Stern the water swiftly glide A Hawk could hardly with it have kept pace, A Hawk that of all Fowl the swiftest flies; So swiftly ran the Ship on th'Oceans face, And with her breast the rising water slice; Bearing a man for wisdom like a God; That past had fearful Billows on the Deep, And many bloody paths of War had trod, The thought whereof was now remov'd by sleep. Above the Earth now risen was the Star Days Messenger, and brightest of the Sky. The Ship was then from Ithaca not far. A Port there is, which from a Deity Is called Phorcys; a Sea-Deity. Two jetting Rocks defend it from the wind, When once within a Ship will safely lie. There needs no Cord a floting Ship to bind; At the Ports head grows a large Olive-tree, And near it an obscure and pleasant Cave, Where the Nerelades delight to be, And there they Bowls of Stone, and Beakers have. The Bees make honey there. Besides there be Long Beams of Stone, whereon the Nymphs do weave Rich Purple-Garments, wonderful to see, And Fountains which their running never leave. Two Doors there are, one North, Men go that way; The other to the South more Sac••ed is, Th'Immortals here go in, and none but they. The Gods have to themselves reserved this. All this Ulysses Convoy knew before; And here the Ship arrived safely lands, And half her length lay dry upon the shore. Such was the strength of those Phaeacian hands, The lusty Sea••en when they landed were, First took Ulysses sleeping as he lay

Bedding and all, and to the Land him bear And lay him from the Sea a little way. Then they unship his Goods, Gold, Vestures, Brass, Gifts given him by the Phaeacians; Which at the foot of th'Olive tree they place, Out of the way, lest Passengers should chance To steal them while Ulysses was asleep. When this was done the Convoy stayed not, But rowed out the Ship into the Deep; Nor Neptune had Ulysses yet forgot, But said to Jupiter complaining then, What honour from the Gods can I expect, When the Phaeacians that are but men (Although descended from me) me neglect? For though Ulysses I destroyed not, Because his coming home you had decreed; Yet that he should be brought home thus, ne'r thought Asleep, and painless, and with so much speed, Enricht with Gold, and Brass, and Vestures store, As much as had come to his share at Troy. This the Phaeacians have done, and more; In this licentiousness they take a joy. Then answered Jove. Neptune, wha••'s this you say? The Gods neglect you not. It cannot be That are the eldest and of greatest sway Of any of them. If Man injure thee, To take revenge enough your own pow'r is. I will not hinder you, do what you please. To Jupiter then Neptune answer'd this. I could, O Jove, have been reveng'd with ease, But that I fear'd you would offended be. And now I'll tell you what I mean to do. Assoon as I the ship returning see, I'll fix it, that they may no more do so. Besides, their City with a Hill I'll hide. O but (said Jupiter) were it my case, When from the City people all espi'd The ship hard by, I would a Rock there place In likeness of a ship not far from Land, To make men wonder, and then round about

The City make a mighty Mountain stand. This said by Jove, the God of Seas went out To Scheria (where the Phaeacians First planted were.) The ship came swiftly on, And on it Neptune laid his mighty hands, And roots it in the Sea, turn'd into Stone. The Rowers t'one another say, What's this? Who hath our good Ship fixed in the water? And yet above the water still it is. Thus sad they, but knew nothing of the matter. Then spake Alcinous. Perform'd (said he) Is what long since I heard my Father say, That Neptune angry was that Strangers we, Who e're they were, did to their homes convey, And threatned had with a great Hill to hide The City, and destroy the Passage-Boat. This by my Father then was Prophesi'd. And now, you see, at last about▪ is brought. Therefore be rui'd by me. Convoy no more, But let us unto Neptune Sacrifice Twelve chosen Bullocks, and his grace implore To set no H••ll there. So did he advise. And then to Neptune they their Prayers make Standing at th'Altar, King and Princes all. And now Ulysses lying was awake, But to his mind the place could not recal. For Pallas had about him cast a mist, That at his coming he might not be known; But she her self instruct him as she list, Till he the Suiters all had overthrown. All things seem'd to him other than they were, Paths, High-ways, Creeks, Havens, Trees and Rocks. And rising up he was he knew not where, And with his open hand his Thigh he knocks. Ay me (said he) whither am I come now? To civil, or to wild and lawless men? Where shall I hide my Treasure? whither go? Would I were at Phaeacia agen. To other friends I might have gone from thence, And t'Ithaca obtained a Convoy,

Here for my Treasure I see no defence. Left here to others they will be a prey. I see the Princes of Phaeacia Are not so just as I take them to be. They promis'd to set me at Ithaca, But have to some place else transported me. Jove that sees all, and pun sheth the ill, Will be revenged also of these men. But come, my Presents number now I will, The Seamen may have ta'ne some back agen. His Garments and his Plate then n••mb••ed he, And nothing missing was of all his pelf. Then walkt he softly along by the Sea Lamenting and bewailing of himself. And then came Pallas to h••m. She had on The Body of a Sh••pherd young and tender, As if she had of some Prince been he Son; Lin'd was his Coat, the th••ead was fire & slender, With Dart in hand, and fine shoes on his feet. Ulysses who beheld her was much joy'd, And forth himself advanced, her to meet. And first he to her spake, and thus he said: Joy to you be, and good-will towards me; Save for me these my Goods, and save me too. You are the first I meet here; at your knee I bow my self as men bow Gods unto. Te••l me (I pray you) true, What I and is this? What Town? Th'Inhabitants what men? An Isle, or of the Continent a piece? To this the Goddess answered agen. Simple you are, or very far hence dwell, To ask what Countrey this is. For 'tis not A place obscure; for known 'tis very well Both East and West, though but a little spot, And rugged ground, not fit for galloping; Yet Corn it bears abundantly and Wine; And is well watered both with Dew and Spring, And nourisheth great Herds of Goats and Kine. Of Wood of ev'ry sort there is good store. Though from Achaea far men say is Troy,

Yet Ithaca is talkt of on that shore. These words unto Ulysses were great joy. And to the Goddess then he answered (Falsly; on Fables keeping still his hold, As one that always Plots hath in his head) I have (said he) of Ithaca been told Far hence in Crete, and now am thither come With these my Goods, but leaving to my Child About as much as I brought out from home, And here I am alone, a man exil'd. For of Idomeneus I kill'd the Son Orsilochus, for swiftness of his feet. So excellent, there was not any one That could out-run him in the Isle of Crete. Because I had refused a Command Under his Father at the Siege of Troy, And would command my own, he took in hand To have depriv'd me of my share o'th' Prey, Which to my dangers and my deeds was due. For which, by night with one Companion Near the High-way I with my Spear him slew, And in the dark escap'c when I had done. And to Phoenicia by Sea I went; And hired with a good part of my Prey, To Pylus or to Elis to be sent. But adverse winds forc't us another way. And wandring there arrived in the night. And streight into this port we brought the Bark, Ne're thought of Food, though very well we might, But went ashore, and lay down in the dark, And there I slept. The Mariners mean while Take out my Goods and lay them on the shore, And back unto Sidonia they sail, And after that I never saw them more. At this the Goddess smil'd, and stroak'd his head, And in a womans shape before him stood, Of stature tall and like to one well bred, The craft that catches you had need be good. You cannot though at home your wiles forgo, And your fain'd Stories, though there be no need,

So close they stick to you from top to toe. But now no more of that. For 'tis agreed 'Mongst Mortals you, amongst Immortals I For Counsel and Invention excel. Did you not know me that perpetually Have at your need assisted you so well? And now am come to help you to secure. The rich Phaeacian Presents you have here, And tell you what at home you must endure; Affron••s and scorns, you shall finde many there. Then said Ulysses, Difficult it is. For any mortal man though very wise To know a God, that can their form dismiss, And when they will, put on a new disguise. When th'Argive Army was besieging Troy, Goddess I know how gracious you were then. But after (the Town sackt) we came away, And scatter'd had the Gods our ships and men, And I was wandring on the Ocean wide, I never saw you, never had your aid, Save at Phea••ia you were pleas'd to guide Me to the Town, and hasten me d••smaid, But I beseech you (for still do I doubt This is not Ithaca that I am at, But some place el••e, and that you go about With comforts feign'd my sorrows to abate.) Tell me if this my Countrey be indeed. Pallas sa••d then, Suspicious still you are. I cannot therefore leave you in your need, Since wise you be, and willing to beware. Another man that had been long away, Had straight gone home to see his Wife and Son; But that for you is not the safest way, Nor had it yet been opportunely done. Know how she'll take it first: She keeps within, And spends in weeping both the night and day, I know full well the Fates his coming spin, But that his Mates shall first be cast away. But with my Uncle Neptune had no mind To be at odds, that in such choler is,

For making of his Son the Cyclops blind. But come, I'll shew you Ithaca. First, This The Port of Phorcys is, This th'Olive-tree, There near it is the gloomy Cavern, where The Nymphs Naîades invoked be. And by you in that Cave much worsh••pt were. The Hill so cloth'd with wood is Neriton. This said, the Mist dissolves, and then Ulysses. His Native Countrey joyful looks upon, And falling on his knees the Soil he kisses. And then to the Naîades he praid, Ha••l Daughters of High Jove Naîades, Ne'r to have seen you more I was afraid; But oft we shall again, if Pallas please To give me life, and prosper my dear Son, Your Altar fill with Gifts as heretofore. The Goddess Pallas when his Pray'r was done, Answer'd, Let that thought trouble you no more. But come, let's now see how your Goods to save, Now presently. 'Twere well that they were laid Within some Rock at bottom of the Cave. Then went she in, and Caves in Cave survey'd. Ulysses brought into the Grot his Store, Garments, and heavy Brass, and Golden Plate; Which Pallas plac'd, and laid a Rock o'th' door, And then in counsel both tog••ther sate The Suiters to destroy. Pallas first spake. Ulysses (said she) think on how you may Your just revenge of the proud Suiters take, That use your House and Substance as their prey; That marry would your Wife by force. But she Still keeps them off with hopes and promises, Expecting your return continually, But than of Marriage thinks of nothing less. O, said Ulysses, But for your advice, I died had as Agamemnon did. But now, O Pallas, find out some device, How of the Suiters best I may be rid. And by me stand inspiring courage stout. As when we pull'd Troy's head-gear off her head.

For then to master them I should not doubt Three hundred though they were. Then answered: The Goddess Pallas, By you I will stand; You cannot fight, but I shall of it know, And bring unto you such a lucky hand, That with their Blood and Brains the ground shall [flow. Come, First I'll make you to men pass unknown, I'll shrink your skin that's now so fair and fresh, And from your head take off that hair so brown, And cover will with such array your flesh As men shall hate the sight of. Then your eyes I'll shrivel up, that were so full and bright, That in this habit th'Woo'rs may you despise, Nor your wife know you standing in her sight. Then go you to the Master of your Swine That loves you, and your Son, and your Consort, And to direct you to him take this signe. He's at Crow-Rock, thither the Swine resort, And t'Arethusa's Well. For why, the Oken Berries with that sweet water make them fat. Stay there till to him you your mind have spoken, And well inform'd your self of your estate. To Lacedaemon I the while will go. To call your Son Telemachus away, Who thither went by Sea, that he might know What Menelaus there of you could say. Then said Ulysses, Goddess, since you could Have told him all your self, why did you not? Meant you that also he be wandring should While other men stay feeding on his Lot? Trouble not you your self with him, said she. I sent him and went with him with intent To shew him to the world abroad. And he At Spartae treated is to his content. 'Tis true, the Suiters with a Ship are gone To wait for, and to kill him by the way. But I believe before that that be done, Some will lie low that now your goods destroy. And as she spake, she stroakt him with her Wand, And rivel'd seem'd his skin (which was before

So sleek and fair) as if it had been tann'd. And gray his hair, rivel'd his eyes all o're. And then she gave him an ill-favoured Rag Torn, foul, and smutted filthily with soot, And over that the pill'd skin of a Stag, And Satchel full of holes then added to't With twisted-string. And up their councel brake. The Goddess Pallas thence to Sparta past, To bid Telemachus his leave to take Of Menelaus, and go home with haste.

LIB. XIV.

BUt he in rugged way, o're Mountains steep, Through Woods obscure unto Eunaeus went, Whose Office was the herds of Swine to keep; And of his Servants was most diligent, And found him in the Porch before the Door. The house was handsome, and high-built and great, Nor to it was adjoyned any more, Well fenc'd from wind it was, and a warm seat, Built by himself on purpose for the Swine Of his good Lord Ulysses that was gone, With Stone that hew'n was from the rocky Mine, Besides those of Laertes and h••s Son. And with a quickset-hedge enclosed round, And Pales of heart of Oak the hedge without Set close together, and stuck deep i'th' ground. And thus the house was fenced round about. Within the Court twelve lodgings were for Swine, And ev'ry one of them held five times ten; And there the female and the teeming lyen. The males lay out, but much diminisht then,

For the proud Suiters eaten had the rest, Eumaeus having sent in every day One of the sattest of the Herd and best, And yet three hundred and threescore were they. Near to the Swine four Dogs were ever lying, Like to wild beasts; and by Eumaeus fed. Himself was leather to his foot applying, Made of a good Cow hide well coloured. Three Dogs attending were the Herd. The fourth Convoying was a Swine unto the Woo'rs, The other three ran fiercely bawling forth When they Ulysses saw come near the doors. Ulysses wisely then his Staff lets fall, And presently sits down upon the ground. But had Eumaeus not come in withal, And unbeseeming fortune he had found. Who letting fall the leather for his shoe, Running and rating came in to his aid: And snatcht stones up abundance at them threw, And then he to Ulyssis spake and said, Old man your self almost to death you brought By those accursed Dogs, and me to shame, As if my sorrow great enough were not, But that there must be added to it blame. While sitting here I for my Master weep, And feed his Swine for other men to eat; He somewhere swallow'd up is in the Deep, Or wanders up and down for want of meat. But come, Old man, into the Lodge let's go, That when of Meat and Wine you have your fill, You may then tell me whence you are, and who, And how much you have suffered of ill. This said, he led him in and made him sit, And under him he store of rushes laid, O're that a Goatskin, thick with hair was it Of which a speckeld wild Goat had been staid. Ulysses glad to see the man so kind And very hearty, answered and said, May all your Pray'rs like entertainment find With Jove for whatsoever you have prai'd.

Stranger (then said Eumaeus) it was never My custome any Stranger to neglect. The Poor and Stranger are in Gods hand ever. Few are my Gifts, and but of small effect. For Servants of young Masters stand in fear; And by the Gods my old one fast is bound From coming home. 'Twas he that gave me here A house and fair possession of ground As much as fits a Master to his Swain, And helpt me too contentedly to wive, Which taketh off a great part of my pain. Also the Gods have made my labour thrive. How happy had I been if he had staid! Accursed be that Helen and her Kin. For, for Atrides sake he Anchors wai'd, Himself much misery engag'ng in. Having thus said, he girded on his Coat, And fetcht in two young Pigs; not long he staid, But kill'd, sindg'd, jointed, roasted, piping hot Before Ulysses with the Spits he laid, Then strows them over with the flour of Wheat, And in an Ivy Bowl he tempers Wine; And sitting o're against him bids him eat. Eat, says he, Servants food, the lesser Swine. The great ones are the pamper'd Suiters fare. The blessed Gods hate evil works, and love Them that do well. But these men little care For mercy or for vengeance from above. Yet enemies and lawless men, when they Disbark upon anothers Land, and there With Prey their ship have laden, come away; And of revenge stand always in great fear. But these men know not, nor by Voice Divine Assured are Ulysses now is dead; Yet neither will go hence, nor have designe To seek by lawful ways his Wife to wed; But stay and waste his Substance without hee. For not a day went o're their heads that they Did sacrifice one only Beast or two; And Wine abundance drink and cast away.

Ulysses his estate and wealth was such. In Greece nor Argos, no Prince in Epire, Nor twenty had in Ithasa so much And if to have it reckon'd you desire, Upon the Continent twelve herds of Kine, Twelve herds of Goats, as many flocks of Sheep, As many Swine-houses replete with Swine, Which Herdsmen of the Countrey there did keep. And here, upon the Islands farthest end There be eleven herds of Goats. Of these The Goat-keeper does ev'ry day one send, The best of all, the Suiters proud to please. And daily I the best of all my Sw••ne. Thus said he. But Ulysses silent sate, Eating his Meat, and drinking of his Wine, And plotting in his head the Suiters fate. When he had supt, Eumaeus to the brim Fill'd up his Cup with Wine. Ulysses then Glad that Eumaeus so well treated him, Drank, and the Cup deliv'ring back agen, Friend, (says he) that so rich and valiant man Your Master that was for Atrides lost, If I have seen him, do you think you can Know him? God knows I have seen many a coast. Then answer'd he, There is no Stranger able Nor with his Wife nor Son to get belief. The news they tell both take but for a Fable Invented by their want to get relief. Many poor men come to Penelope, And make her weep in vain with Tales untrue. And where you think you shall rewarded be With Coat or other Garment, so can you. But he's devour'd by Beasts or Fowls at Land, O•• F••sh at Sea have on his body fed. And on the Shore his Bones lie clad in Sand. Bu•• howso••ere it be, the man is dead; And to his friends has sorrow left behind, But to me chiefly, who, go where I please Shall never such another Master finde, Nor ever be again at so much ease,

No, though I should unto my Countrey go And Parents that have got and nourisht me; To see them though I wish, I long not so As I Ulysses long again to see. Whom though now absent I call by his name, He was so kind, and took such care of me, That of such small respect I feel some shame. A second Father he should called be. Friend, said Ulysses, since so hard it is To make you hope he will so soon be here, Know that I have not rashly told you this. What I have spoken I will also swear. If true, with Coat and Vest my news requite; If not, then not, although ill raid am I. Of him as of Hell-gate I hate the sight That can by want be made to tell a Lye. Know Jove the chief of Gods, and then the Host That hath provided for us this good Chear, And in Ulysses house doth rule the roast, Ulysses will be here some time this year; This Month expired, or the next begun, And be reveng'd of th' Wooers impudent That have dishonoured his Wife and Son. Then said Eumaeus, Leave this argument. For your good news nothing will be to pay. Nor will Ulysses ever come again. Drink Wine, and no more on this subject say, I cannot think upon him without pain. And swear no more. True be it all you say. To me, Laertes, and Penelope, And to Telemachus 'twill be great joy, For whom my sorrows much augmented be; He sprang up like a branch to mans estate. I thought he would in Prowess prove no less Than's Father was whom he did imitate In Wit and Figure and in Com••••ness. But now the Gods bereav'd him have of Wit. He's gone to Pyle to hear what men there say About his Father, whilst the Suiters sit Waiting at Sea to kill him by the way.

But him let's leave a while with Pow'rs above Whether to let him d••e, or bring him back, Waiting upon the pleasure of high Jove. And now of your own woes untie the sack, That I may know them. Tell me truely now Your own, your Fathers, and your Countries name. And further I desire you, let me know Whence are the Mariners that with you came Unto this Town, and tell me this likewise, Where rideth the good ship that brought you to't. For verily I can no way devise How you should come on Horsback or on Foot. Then said Ulysses, Were we here alone, And meat and drink for so long us attend, And all the rest about their work were gone, The year would sooner than my Story end. Of Crete I am, and rich my Father was, And many Children more he had. But they Begotten were according to the Laws. But of a Concubine the Son was I. My Father was Castor Hylacides, That was for wealth in Crete much honoured; And for his Children, but lov'd me no less Than those he had begot in lawful bed. When he was dead and gone, my Brothers proud. Divide his state amongst themselves by Lot, And little of it they to me allow'd. But for all that a good rich Wife I got; My vertue won her. I no shun-field was, Nor from my stock degenerate she saw; (Though from me now my strength be gone, alas) But you I think can know Wheat by the Straw. For now with hardship I am much decal'd. Mars gave me Courage, and Athena Skill To beat up Quarters, and by Ambush laid With Stratagems my Enemies to kill, Of being slain I never had a thought, But foremost still I leapt out with my Spear; And of the Foes to death I still one brought, Unless his feet than my feet swifter were.

And such I was in War. But Husbandry, And keeping home, though that bred children store, I car'd not for. But Ships I lov'd to see, And War, Darts, Bows and Shafts I loved more. Yet horrible they be to other wights. For, for such things the Gods have temper'd me. Many things are there wherein one delights, Which to another man unpleasant be. Before the Greeks went to the Siege of Troy Nine times had I commanded on the Seas, And always our Success was good that way, And of the Prey I chose what did me please Beside my share. And wealth came in apace. Wise I was thought, and honour'd much in Crete. And when Jove had decreed Troy to deface, Idomeneus and I went with the Fleet, Or else we must our credit quite have lost. Nine years we fought, the tenth we took the Town. And setting up our Sails we left the Coast, And by the Gods were tossed up and down. But Jove determin'd me more trouble yet. For needs I would to Aegypt go and trade. A month I staid at home, then forth I set With nine good ships, and an ill Voyage made. For when six days I feasted had my Crew, And to the Gods devoutly offer'd part; A good strong wind from the North Heaven blew, And from the Coast of Crete we then depart. Smoothly we sail'd, safe our arrival was, Nor man nor ship had any harm at all. From shore to shore we did in five days pass, And in the Nile we let our anchors fall. Then I my Fellows bad aboard to stay And guard the ships, and some to places high I sent to watch, but mov'd by lucre, they On plunder and on rapine had their eye. The fields they waste, and kill the men, and make Women and Children captives. Then the cry Arriving at the City, Arms they take, And next day carly to the field they hie,

VVith Horse and Foot then thundered the field. Their Armour lightned. My men frighted were. Some taken and made slaves; some flying kill'd; And all the rest ran scatter'd here and there. Then I (though t'had been better there t'have di'd, So many woes have since befallen me) Pull'd off my Helmer, laid ray Spear aside, And Buckler too, and kneel'd at the Kings knee. He rescu'd me, and home with him me brought, Sitting by him that did his Chariot drive. Though in their heat many to kill me sought, Yet the King brought me to the Town alive. Seven years I there remain'd and riches got. For every man almost me somewhat gave. Then thither came a Merchant that had not His fellow in all Aegypt for a Knave. His house and riches in Phoenicia were, And he with Lyes entic'd me to his home; VVith him I went. And there I staid a year. And when the Months and Days about were come, He set me in a Ship for Libya; And there together with our Goods we sate, He cracking of the profit he foresaw, And I suspecting, though it were too late. VVith him I went. And when the Ship was forth, VVe steer'd our Course without the Isle of Crete, For by good luck we had a wind full North. But Jove determin'd had we should not see't. For when the Island we had left behind, And nothing else appear'd but Sea and Sky, Jove fetcht the Clouds together with a VVind Just o're the Ship, and dark 'twas presently. And therewithal into the Ship he threw His Thunderbolt, which whirl'd it round about. It smelt of Brimstone rank. And all the Crew Into the Sea it suddenly cast out. And they like Gulls from wave to wave were tost. But Jove to save me, put into my hand The Ships tall Mast which with my arms I cros••. And after nine days came at last to land.

And in Thesprotia was cast on land; And the Kings Son who chanc't that way to pass, Listed me up as I lay on the sand; And by King Phaedon well receiv'd I was. He cloth'd me with good Garments Coat and Vest. I askt him of Ulysses what he knew. As he went home (said he) he was my Guest, And what he then had gotten did me shew; Of Brass and Iron and Gold there was so much, As might ten Ages feed a man alone, The Treasure that he shew'd me there was such. But he, he said, was to Dodona gone, There at the Holy Oak to be advis'd (Since he from Ithaca so long has been) VVhether 'twere better to go home disguis'd, Or so as to be known when he is seen. The King to me in Holy Form did swear, That for the Conduct of Ulysses home, Both Ship and Mariners then ready were. But when I went from thence he was not come. A Ship of that place in the Harbour lay Ready to part. The King bad land me there. But they resolv'd were of another way; VVhich made me yet more misery to bear. VVhen of that Land they were got out of fight, To sell me for a Slave they did agree, My Coat and Vest they take from me there right, And gave me the torn Coat and Rags you see. Late in the Ev'ning they were at the Land Of Ithaca, and bound me fast i'th' ship. But they to Sup thought fit upon the Sand, And leaving me, out of the Bark they skip. But from my Bonds some God sure set me free. Then down I went and to the Sea appli'd My breast, and round the Ship swam speedily, And in a great thick Wood my self I hide. Sorry they were, and put to Sea again. To stay and seek me they lost labour thought. Thus by Jove's favour I alive remain, And to the house of a good friend am brought.

Then said Eumaeus, I confess the Story (Poor man) of this your wandring and your pain, Has had the pow'r to make me verry sorry. But of Ulysses what you say is vain. I not believe a word. What needed you, So wise a man as you appear to me, In vain to tell me any thing not true; When I my self am sure 'twill never be? For all the Gods have shewn themselves his foes, That neither suffer'd him to fall at Troy, Nor the War done, his best friends to compose His Body for the Grave. For either way He honourably buried had been To th'honour of his Son. But he is dead, Unspoken of, devour'd by Harpies keen; And I despis'd sit here to see Swine fed. And never to the City come, but when Some news is brought unto Penelope, And she send one to call me. I come then, And many listning to the news I see. Some griev'd and wishing for his coming home. Some that seek nothing but shot-free to feed. And these men wish that he may never come. But I of what they say take little heed. Especially, since an Aetocián, As he from place to place for Murther fled, Came to my house, and I reliev'd the man, And after found that I was cozened. He said he saw him with Idomeneus In Crete, and that for certain he would come (His Fleet much hurt repaired) to his house, Rich, at the next Spring, or the next Autumn. Therefore, old man, since you are come to me, Think not your Story any thing avails, Nor that false hopes provoke my Charity. My Bounty looks on want and not on Tales. Pity, and fear of Jove my favours guide. Ulysses to this answers him, and saith, Since you trust not my Word, nor Oath beside, And in your breast resideth little faith,

Let's make a Bargain. If Ulysses come, Then a good Coat and Vest shall be my due, And a safe Conduct to Dulichium. If not, and that I told you prove untrue, Then make your Servants throw me from a Cliff High and upright, That others may beware To cosen men into a false belief Of things they know not, but uncertain are. Then said Eumaeus, Yes, 'twere a fine deed, And noble, t'entertain a man with love, And with good chear relieve him in his need, Then kill him, and beg pardon then of Jove. But now I wish the Swine from field were come. For time it is of Supper to advise. And while they talk, the Swains the Swine bring home. And with great noise they pent are in the sties. Then did Eumaeus to his Servants call, From out the Herd to choose one of the best His far-come friend to entertain withal, And mend their own fare also with the rest. 'Tis long since others the work to us leave To seed the Swine they eat. Having said that, Out went he, for the Altar wood to cleave; And they brought in a five-year-old Pig fat; And laid it on the Hearth. Eumaeus there Remembring well the Gods (for he was wise) First from the fore-head clippeth off the hair, And in the fire the same did Sacrifice. Then did he all the Gods above invoke, That soon and safe Ulysses might arrive, Next that he takes a piece of the cleft Oak, And at a stroke did him of life deprive. Then others take the work into their hands, And with keen steel they quickly cut his Throat. That being done, with many flaming Brands They sindge from head to tail his hairy Coat, And lay him open. Then Eumaeus came And folded up the fleshy Thighs in fat. And then into the Fire he threw the same. The rest they cut in lesser parts. And that

They ròast on Spits; and being roasted well And taken up, on Chopping-boards they put it. Eumaeus then (who thereat did excel) As he thought fit did into Messes cut it. But one Mess for the Nymphs and Mercury He set aside; and over that he pray'd. The rest he set to each one severally. But to Ulysses the whole Chine was laid. Jove (said Ulysses) be to you as kind As you to me, and grant all your request. Friend (said Eumaeus) now your Supper mind, Such as it is. Gods give what they think best. Then to the Gods he offer'd the first cut, And fill'd a Bowl, and offer'd part of that. The Bowl then in Ulysses hand he put. Ulysses it receiv'd, and down he sat. Mesaulius then sets before him bread, Who thither brought from Taphos was to sell, And had been by Eumaeus purchased. Then heartily unto their meat they fell. And when to eat they had no more delight, Mesaulius took off the Bread; and all Prepared were for sleep. But cold the night And Moonless was; besides much rain did fall. Ulysses to the Company then spake, Tempting Eumaeus; and to get a Cloak From him, or from some other for his sake. Hear me Eumaeus (says he) and you folk, I have a Tale to tell. This foolish Wine To laugh and dance is able to provoke Grave men sometimes that have no such designe, And to speak that which better were unspoke. But out it shall, since I so much have said. O, that I were as young and strong as when Before the Town of Troy the Watch we laid, And lodged were amongst thereeds i't'h Fen, By Menelaus and Ulysses, led, And me the third; the wind at North all night, We lying with our Bucklers covered. With rain congeal'd, our Armour all was white.

And they slept well wrapt up in Cloak and Coat, Safe in their Bucklers from the freezing wind. But like a fool my Cloak I had forgot. I did not think I should such weather find. And when a third part of the Night was gone, I nudg'd Ulysses (who did next me lie.) He felt me, and to him I made my moan. Noble Ulysses, I am like to die, The weather kills me, I have but a Coat. My Cloak some Daemon made me leave behind, And of such cold quite took away the thought. I cannot tell what remedy to find. No sooner said, but remedy he found; For able was he both to shift and fight, And said unto me in a whisp'ring sound, Peace, lest we heard be by some other Wight: And then with Head on Elbow, Friend, said he, I dreamt we from the Ships too far lie here. Let some to Agamemnon go and see, If he would have us rise and come more near. Then up rose Thoas Son of Andraemon, And down he laid his Cloak, the which I kept, And swiftly did to Agamemnon run. I'th' Cloak I wrapt my self and soundly slept. Were I as young and strong as I was then, Some one a Cloak would lend me for respect, Or else for kindness, 'mongst so many men. But now my Rags are cause they me neglect. Old man, then said Eumaeus, You have told Your Story well. Each word to purpose is. To morrow shake your Rags against the cold. Of what is needful now you shall not miss. Of Cloak and Coat there's none of these has shift. But when Telemachus from Pyle comes back, From him you will have all you need, of gift. And then you neither Cloak nor Coat will lack. And be convey'd to what place you desire. With that he rose; and woolly skins of Sheep, And shaggie Goat-skins near laid to the fire. And there Ulysses laid him down to sleep.

And over him a Cloak Eumaeus laid; Both thick and soft it was, which he had kept And with it in sharp cold himself arraid, And thus Ulysses warmly cover'd slept. By him the young men lay. But to the sties Eumaeus went. For fit he thought it not To lie far from his Swine, and out he hies. Mean while Ulysses of h••s kindness thought. Eumaeus first of all his Sword puts on O're his great Shoulder. Then against the weather A thick warm Cloak. And again that upon A great Goats-skin, the skin and hair together. And then with Dart in hand, for his defence (Gainst Men and Dogs) well armed at the head, To where the tusked Swine lay parted thence, Within a Rock from wind safe covered.

LIB. XV.

ANd then to Lacedaemon Pallas went To urge Telemachus his leave to take Of Menelaus, to whom she had him sent, And home again what speed he could to make. Telemachus, and Nestor's Son she found Within the entrance of the house abed; The Son of Nestor in a sleep profound. Sleep came not in Telemachus his head. Thought of his Father open kept his eyes. Then Pallas to him said, Telemachus, To stay so long abroad you are not wise, Leaving your Goods with such men in your house,

As lawless there your Substance do devour, Lest afterward you to no purpose come. Importune Menelaus with all your pow'r, Or else your Mother you'll not finde at home. Her Father and her Brethren bid her marry Eurymachus. Of all he bids most high. Take heed what Goods out of your house they carry. You know what thoughts in Female breasts do lie, They will their present Husbands house promote, But for their former Children little care. For he once dead, they have no longer thought Of how his Children after him shall fare. Therefore return you, and commit to some Maid of your own for faith and care well known, Such Goods as in your house you have at home, Until you have a good Wife of your own. I tell you more; remember what I say, The bravest of the Sniters lie in wait As you return, to kill you by the way, 'Twixt Ithaca and Same in the Streight. They'll fail, I think, of what they go about, And sooner some of them their Graves shall find. But howsoever stear the Isles without. The God that keeps you will provide a wind. And when at Ithaca you are on land, Unto the Town your Ship and fellows send, But go you to Eumaeus out of hand, Who, though he keep your Swine, is much your friend. Then Pallas mounted to the Sky. And he Pisistratus awakens with his foot. 'Tis time (said he) that on our Way were we. Let's to the Coach, and set the Horses to'c. Then said Pisistratus, Too dark 't••s yet To travel with a Coach. Let's therefore stay, 'Twill soon be morning. Let's our Presents get, And by Atrides self be sent away. For Guests use a waies to remember those By whom they have been entertain'd with love. This said, the morning by and by arose, And Menelaus toward them did move

Telemachus then puts on hastily His Coat and Cloak to meet him on the way; And when they were to one another nigh, Telemachus first spake, and thus did say. O King, Atrides Menelaus, now, Ev'n now dismiss me, let me go my way. Then said Atrides, Ev'n now you shall go; I purpose not to make you longer stay. For I conceive 'tis not a good mans part, To make too much or little of his Guest, To hold him when he gladly would depart, Or press him to be gone e're he thinks best. In Hospitality this Rule is true, Love him that stays, help forth the going Guest. Stay then and take my Gift along with you, And your Break-fast of what we have the best. For he that will a great days Journey make, Will finde both joy and profit in his meat. And if to visit Greece you pleasure take, I'll with you go, and with you I'll retreat, And to the Argive Cities be your Guide, And be presented by each Princely man With whomsoever we at night abide. Two Mules, a Gold Cup, a brave Pot or Pan. Then said Telemachus, I needs must go, (My Father seeking lest my self I lose) I have left none my Goods to look unto, And rob'd my Treasure may be by my foes. When that was said, forth Menelaus goes, To give unto his Wife and Maids command For Break-fast of what then was in the house. Then Boetheides who lodg'd near at hand Came in; and, bidden by Atrides, cleaves The wood, makes fire, lays down the roast. Him to his bus'ness then Atrides leaves. And down came to his Treasure of great cost, He, and his Son, and Wife Helena. There Within a Room lin'd with sweet smelling wood. A Temp'rer to his Son he gave to bear Of Silver pure, which 'mongst the Vessels stood.

And from a Chest where Robes for Matrons were She took up one, with great var••ety Wrought by her self, which she her self did bear, Shining and bright as any Star i'th' Sky. And forth unto Telemachus they come. Then said Atrides, Jove grant your request, And safely may you t'Ithaca come home. See here my Gift, of all I have the best. 'Tis massie Silver gilt about the brim, By Vulcan made; but then it was possest By th' King of Sidon. I had it of him When by the way from Troy I was his Guest. Then Helen said, This Gift too take from me, Of Helens handy work a Monument, To give to her that your dear Wife shall be. Think it mean while as to your Mother sent. Then gave it to Telemachus his hands. I'th' Coach Pisistratus then placed all, And at the goodly Gifts amazed stands. Atrides then led them into the Hall, And made them sit, and while they sitting were, A grave Ma••d-servant from a Golden Ewre, To wash their hands pours on the water clear Over a Bason all of Silver pure. One Tables sets, another lays on Bread. And from their store many good things brings out. The Messes Boetheides severed. Atrides Son the Wine delivered out. When their desire of Food was satisfi'd, Up rose Telemachus and Nestor's Son, And to their Coach they the swift Horses ti'd, And in the Coach were, ready to be gone; And were already got the Court without, But after them Atrides followed, And in his hand a Gold cup he brought out Of Wine, and standing at the Horses head, Brave You h; (said he) to Nestor me commend, That as a Father was to me at Trey. Farewel, and may you to your Journeys end With safety travel and arrive with joy.

Then said Telemachus, All this l'll say, I wish at home I may so treated be Within my Fathers house at Ithaca, Besides the Presents you have given me. As he said this, an Eagle dexter flew And seis'd a great white tame Goose grazing near•• The standers-by shouted and cri'd, Shu••, shue. But yet away the Eagle bore him clear. And none but with the sight was well content. Then to Atrides said Pisistratus, This Prodigy, unto you is it sent From Jupiter? Or is it sent to us? While what to answer he was taking care, Helen prevented him. I will, said she, First tell you what hereon my own thoughts are, And to my mind by th'Gods insused be. You saw the Eagle come down from the Hill, Where nature placed him to dwell and breed, And kill that Goose: So shall Ulysses kill The Suiters that upon his Substance feed. Or, it may be, already there he is Devising for the Suite••s some ill end. O Gods, then said Telemachus, that this Were so indeed! To you then should I send As to a God my Vows. This said, away They whip their willing Horses through the Town, Which on the plain their Harness shake all day, And were at Pheres when the Sun went down. There Diocles Orsilochus his Son, (Orsilochus by Alphaeus be got) Dwelt, and of entertainment want was none, Nor acceptable Presen••s were forgot. And when the Morning had her self arraid, Again they put their Horses to the Coach, Which when the Whip they felt once, never staid, Till to the Town of Eyle they did approach. Then sa••d Telemachus to Nestor's Son, You promis'd, I you•• Father should decline. But since we here are, now can that be done? And therefore let us both our Counsels joyn.

Friends you and I, and friends our Fathers were; One age we have; this Voyage is some tie, Draw me not from my ship, but leave me here, Lest th'old man force me at his house to lie In kindness when I have such need to go. This said, Pisistratus considered What to make good his promise he should do. And then this Counse•• came into his head. Turn off (said he) the C••ach to the Sea-side, And Menelaus G f••s a Shipboard stow, And get aboard. Your small stay here I'll hide, So your departure shall my Father know. For sure I am, if he know you are here, So violent he is, he'll hither come, And call you to his house and stay you there, And be a hind'rance to your going home. And though away you••••l not be empty sent, Yet will he doubtless very angry be. This said, unto his Father home he went. Telemachus then bad his Company To see prepar'd all things for Sayling fit, And go aboard; aboard went also he. The Rowers on their Seats in order sit. Thus they about their going busie be. Then came a Stranger that a Prophet was, And fled from Argos then for Homicide And by descent was of Melampus race, And stood near to Telemachus his side. For this Melampus once had dwelt in Pyle And rich, but fled by Neleus opprest, And bound he lay in Prison for a while. But afterward he got himself releast, And brought to Neleus his Herds again, And had his Daughter Pero for reward. But left her with his Brother to remain For wife. And then did Pyle no more regard. But went to Argos, where a wife he got, And Children ••wain had, first Antiphates. And he the valiant Oicleus begot, And Oic••••us begat Amp••••areu••,

That was belov'd by Pallas and by Jove, And yet he lived not till he was old. He di'd at Thebes, betrayèd by his love, That him discover'd for a Chain of Gold. Al••maeon and Amphilochus he got. But Mantius, Melampus second Son Cleitus and Polyphides then begot. Cleitus was fair, but Children he had none. Auror a snatch'd him from ••he Earth when young. For Mortals he in beauty did excel, And placed him th'Immo••tal Gods among. And Polyphides Phoebus loved well; And to him gave the Gif: of Prophesie. And since Amphiraus was dean and gone, To soretel any thing with certainty Upon the whole earth like him there was none. Displeased by his Father Mantius, At Hyperesia he prophesi'd. His Son it was, call'd Theoclymeaus, That then stood by Tel machus his side, When he the blessed Gods was praying to. And said, Since worshipping I finde you here, By him you worship, te••l me truly who You are, your Father who, and dwelling where•• Stranger, then said Telemachus, I dwell At Ithaca, born there; my Fathers name Ulysses if he live; but who can tell? And to hear news of that, I hither came. Then answer'd Theoclymenus, And I From Argos Town for killing of a man, Pursued by his Kin, am fore't to fly. Take me aboard that only save me can. Welcome you are, then said Telemachus. Aboard let's go, where you shall have such chear As we can make, and hath contented us. Then took and on the deck he laid his Spear; And up into the Ship he went, and at The Stern he plac'd himself, and close by him The Stranger Theoclymenus down sat. Then bids Telemachus the ship to trim.

And straight the Mast upright they set and bind; And hoise their Sails with ropes of good Cow-hide; And Pallas sent them a good strong forewind, And swiftly did the Ship the Sea divide. The Sun was down, and doubtful was the light, When he to Pherae came and passed by. And then by Elis coasted he all night, And came unto the Thoae Islands nigh; And thought upon the Suiters in his way. Ulysses and Eumaeus supping sat. And when their hunger they had put away, The Tables gone they leasure had to chat. And then Ulysses had a mind to know Whether Eumaeus rather had he staid Ich' Lodge with him, or to the City go, And to the Company he spake and said, Hear me Eumaeus and you all his Friends, I stay here helping to consume your meat. My mind me to the City rather bends. For Bread and Wine there begging I shall get. But I must then entreat you to provide Some good man to go with me. Being there Necessity it self will be my guide To find the houses where there is good chear. And if I go unto Ulysses Doors, Unto Penelope I can tell news, And make my self well known unto the Woo'rs, And they to give me meat will not resuse. I can do any service that they will, (Thank Mercury to whom I owe that good.) Few be they can compare with me for skill To make a Fire, or to cleave out Wood, To roast and carve Meat, or Wine to give out, Or any thing that Great Mens Servants do. Ay me, (Eumaeus said) Poor man, what thought. Is this of yours? D'ye long to perish so? As you must do, if you among them stay. Their insolence is known up to the Sky. You are not like their Serving men. For they Are young, and are apparell'd handsomely

With Coat and Vest. Their heads and faces shine With Unguents sweet. Stay therefore here with me There's none that at your staying doth repine. Nor I, nor any of my Company. Telemachus when he comes home agen, Shall give you Garments, a fair Coat and Vest. And good Shooes also to your feet, and then See you convoy'd to what place you think best. To this Ulysses-answered, and said, O that Jove lov'd you but as well as I! You have me from a wre••ched wandring staid. The Belly brings to men much misery. Then said Ulysses, Since I am to stay, Say, of Ulysses Parents, if you know His Father and his Mother, whether they Be both remaining yet alive or no. To this Eumaeus said, Laertes lives, But wofully and weary of his life; Still for the absence of his Son he grieves; But more lamenteth the death of his Wife. The loss of her was that first made him old. She di'd for grief, thinking her Son was dead. As sad a death it was as can be told. May we from such death be delivered. While she was living, though she grieved were, When cause there was I could have askt her mind Freely. For why, with her own Daughter dear She brought me up, and never was but kind. This Daughter Ctimene, when come of age (For she the youngest was) to Same went To a rich man given in Marriage. But I well clad in C••at and Vest was sent (And shooe•• upon my seet) into the field, For she a purpose had to do me good. But now the time does no such kindness yield. And yet the blessed Gods provide me food. For they so well have multipli'd my Swine, That we have still enough of meat and drink, And wherewithal to make a poor man dine, Although the Suiter; riot make them shrink.

••ot since this woe Penelope befel, 'Tis harsh to her to hear of business. Yet Servants need her both to ask and tell All that belongeth to their Offices, And also sometimes, may be, need they had I'th' house to eat, and carry somewhat home Of that whereof Servants are most part glad, And which unto their Lodges never come. Ho, said Ulysses, since it doth appear You were a Traveller when but a Boy, Tell me, I pray, what your Adventures were, And what your sufferings were upon the way. Was your Town plund'red by the Enemies, And you brought hither as a part o'th' prey? Or been by Thieves (for you were no ill prize) As you kept Sheep or Cattle, brought away? Then said Eumaeus, Since to hear the Story Of how I h••ther came it is your pleasure, Sit patiently, the Wine there stands before ye. For sleep and joy the long nights give us leasure. It is not good too soon to go to bed; For too much sleep is but a weariness. The rest that will may go, and (morning spread) Drive forth the Swine; which is their business. Mean while let us sit here, and drink, and chat, And Stories of our sad Adventures tell. For much contentment there is ev'n in that, To them that suffer'd have and come off well. But to my Story now. An Isle there is Under the Tropique of the Sun, not great, Call'd Syria, but very fertile 'tis, Well stor'd with Kine, and Sheep, and Wine and Wheat. Where Famine never enter'd nor Disease Amongst the people. When a man was aged, Dian' and Phoebus made him die with ease, And gentle shafts the pain of death asswaged. Two Towns it had. Their Laws were not the same; But of them both my Father was the King. Phoenician Merchants, Rats, then thither came, And in their Ships did many Baubles bring.

There then was in my Fathers house a Maid, Phoenician born, that well could sowe and spin; As washing Clothes she at the Seas side staid, One of these Merchants sooth'd her into fin. (For good Work women may be made do that If fl••tter'd well.) And then he askt her name, And whence she was. And truth she told the Rat. From Sidon (said she) a rich Town I came, And Daughter am of wealthy Arybas. But Taphian Th••eves took me by force away, As homewards from the field I going was, And sold me to this man with whom I stay. Then said the Merchant man that did her wi••e, Will you to Sidon home return with me, And see your Parents? They are still alive, And rich as heretofore. I will, said she, If you and all your company will swear, At Sidon you will set me safe ashore. And when all sworn, and agreed on it were, The woman spake again, and this said more: If any of you see me in the stree••, Or at the Well, speak not at all to me, Lest any of the house should chance to see't, And tell my Master. Jealous he will be, Put me in Bonds, and seek you to destroy. Buy quickly what you buy, and ready be And secret. When you mean to go away, Then send a privy Messenger to me. For all the Go'd I can lay hand upon I'll bring, and somewh••t else Boat-hire to pay. For I the charge have of my Mas••ers Son, Much profit he will yield if brought away. Playing without I'll take him by the hand And lead him to the Ship. Much worth he'll be. Transported into whatsoever Land. And home again (this said) returned she. A year it was before these Merchants went. Mean while they bu•• and lade the Ship. And when They had their fraught, straightway a man they sent To bid the Maid make haste away. And then

A man unto my Fathers house they sent: A crasty Merchant with a Chain of Gold And shining A••ber, on which were intent My Mother and her Maids. They much behold, And take into their hands, and for it bid. Mean while the man a no•• gave with his head. The woman quickly understand him did; And by the hand me out a door she led. Aboard went he. The woman lookt about, Saw standing on the Tables many a Cup Lest by my Father, and his Guests gone out. And presently she three of them took up. Out went she leading me that simple was. The Sun went down, and dusky was the Way, And to the Ship we unpursued pass To th'Haven where the Merchants Vessel lay. And then go they, and with them we aboard. And sail'd before the Wind six days and nights. And to us Jove a fair gale did afford. Diana on the sev'nth the woman smites. And suddenly into the Sink she fell, And her they throw into the Sea for chea••. To fishes. But the rest arrived well At Ithaca. Laextes bought me there. You see now how I hither came. Then said Ulysses, Truly you have past much woe. But Jove in part your sorrows hath alla••'d, That in a good mans house at ease are now, That gives you meat and drink with a good will. With him you live a happy life. But I Have longer wandring been, and must be still. Thus 'twixt themselves did they say and reply, Then went to sleep. The night was almost past. And with the Morn Telemachus was night. Quickly his Mates take down the Sails and Mast, And row the Ship to land, and there her tie. Then on the Beach they quickly break their fast. And with fresh water temper their old Wine. And when desire of Meat and Drink was past, I'll (said Telemachus) go to my Swine,

But to the City will return at night, Next Morn I'll feast you with good flesh and wine, Your labour in my Passage to requite. And then said Theoclymenus divine, What will you do mean while (I pray) with me? Unto your Mothers house must I go too, Or to some other man commended be? Then answered Telemachus, No, no. To bring you to my house in vain it were. My Mother in my absence you'll not see. She seldome to the Suiters doth appear. At top o'th' house at work still sitteth she. But I will recommend you to another In Ithaca of best repute; his name Eurylochus, and best he loves my Mother. And what my Father did would do the same. But folded up it lies ye: in Jove's lap, Whether he first shall marri'd be or dead. As he this said, there did a Faulcon hap (Apollo's Bird) to fly above his head Dexter, and in his Pounces held a Dove. And as he plumed her the feathers fell Scatter'd as they descended from above (Which The••clymenus observed well) Betwixt Telemachus and the Ships side, And to Telemachus said secretly, This from the Gods is, and doth good betide Both to your self and your Posterity. I knew that it portended at first sight, No family but yours was here to reign. O, said Telemachus, that that were right, Such Love, such Gifts you then should from me gain, As men that saw you should your fortune bless. Pyraeus then his friend was standing by. To him he then his Stranger did address: You are my best friend of the company, Unto your care this Stranger I commend To be well treated till I come again. Though long you stay (said he) I do intend The best I can your friend to entertain,

And with some Gift. Then to the ship he goes, He and his Mates. They on their Benches sit. Telenachus then putteth on his shooes, And takes a Spear that for his hand was fit. The Ship about they to the City row. Telemachus pursuing his designe, On foot unto Eumaeus forth did go, His faithful Servant, Master of the Swine.

LIB. XVI.

EUmaeus and Ulysses risen were, And men, for Dinner, sent out to fetch Hogs, And fire was made. Ulysses chanc'd to hear One tread without, and whining of the Dogs That barked not. And to Eumaeus said, Some one of your acquaintance now comes in. I hear his feet. The Dogs are well appai'd. These words scarce said, Telemachus was seen. Eumaeus, who then temp'ring was of Wine, Lets fall his Cups, and meets him at the door; Kisses his head and hands, and both his eyne, And presently with tears his eyes run o're. As when a loving Father sees his Son That had been ten years absent, and for whom He had lamented long, come home alone; So glad was he Telemachus was come, And hug'd him as one that had scap't but than From death, and weeping said, O are you come? I never thought to see you more, sweet man, Since first I knew to Pyle you went from home. But come, come in dear heart, that I may fill My self with looking, you're not oft among

Your Herdsmen in the field, but almost still I'th' City, in the Suiters dismal throng. Yes, said Telemachus, for why, I come To see you, and to ask about my Mother, Whether she still remaining be at home, O•• gone be with a Suiter one or other, Leaving her Husbands Chamber and his Bed With Cobwebs hung for want of Furniture. No, she yet stays (Eumaeus answered) And great the grief is which she doth endure; And day and night the tears fall from her eyes. Telemachus went in. His Father there To give him place did from his Chair arise. Sit still, said he, I'll find a Seat elsewhere In my own house. This man will one provide. This said, he past unto another Seat, To which Eumaeus a Wool-sell appli'd With Rushes under it. Then brought in meat, Trenchers of meat reasted the day before, And in a Basket sets on bread of Wheat, And in an Ivy-Tankard Wine good store. And o're against Ulysses takes his seat. Then on the meat prepar'd their hands they laid. When Thirst and Hunger nothing more requir'd, Telemachus unto Eumaeus said, And thus about his new-come Guest enquir'd, Father (said he) I pray you tell me now His own, his Fathers, and his Countries name. And farther I desire you let me know Where are the Ma••iners that with him came Unto this place. And tell me this likewise, Where rideth the good Ship that brought him to't. For verily I can no way devise, How he should come on Horsback or on Foot. To this Eumaeus answered agen: He says himself that he was born in Creet, And seen the Cities has of many men, Wandring about. For Jove so thought it meet. Thesprotian Rats got him aboard their Ship, And forced were in Ithaca to land.

There he sound means to give them all the slip. So came to mine, and from mine to your hand. Ig've him you, as you think best to use. To this again Telemachus repl••es, That which you say, Eumaeus, is bad news. How to receive him I cannot devise. I am too young to save him with my hands, If injury be done him by the Wooers. And at this time my Mother doubt••ul stands, Whether to stay within my Fathers doors, And with the people her good name maintain, Or with that Suiter wed and go away, That to her shall afford the greatest gain. But since the Stranger at your house doth stay, I'll give him Garments a good Coat and Vest, A Spear in's hand, and good Shoes to his feet, And him convey to what place he thinks best, Or if to keep him here you think it meet, I'll hither for him Garments send and food, That he no charge be to your Family. To set him with the Suiters 'tis not good For me nor him, they so unruly be. He'll be derided there, and I shall grieve: But 'gainst so many men what can be done? The strength of one man cannot him relieve. Ulysses then made answer to his Son, O Friend (said he) it bites my heart to hear What of the Suiters in your house you say, Haw 'gainst your mind they proudly domineer. Is it because you willingly give way? Or that your people by Divinity Adverse are to you or your Government? Or are your Kindred that should stand you by In Quarrel and in Battle, discontent? O, were I young and of the mind I am, Or that I were the Great Ulysses Son, Or he himself, and wandring hither came, I'd have my head cut off by any one, If I were not reveng'd upon them all. And though they were too hard for me alone,

I'd rather in my own house fighting fall, Than daily see such ugly things there done. Strangers abus'd; Maids tous'd ill favourdly, And Corn and Wine consumed without end, And to no purpose foolishly. For why, They never shall arrive where they intend. Then said Telemachus, No word o'th' Gods Hath me deprived of the peoples love, Nor any Brother is with me at odds, Nor any other cause I know but Jove. How many Lords within these Isles do sway, Same, Dulichium, Ithaca, and Zant, So many Suiters duely every day For Marriage with my Mother my house haunt. Whilst she can none put off, and will none marry, They spend my Corn and Wine, and Cattle kill, And eating here, and drinking still they tarry, And me perhaps at last they murther will. But what they shall do none but God can tell. But Father go you to Penelope, And let her know I am arrived well. And let no other person know but she. And after you have told her tarry not. Make haste. At your return I shall be here. For many are they that my death do plot. True, said Eumaeus, but not ill it were To let Laertes know it by the way, Who when his grief but for Ulysses was, Did oversee his Workmen all the day, But since by Sea to Pylus you did pass, He neither oversees his Husbandry, Nor eats his meat, as still he did before, But groaning and lamenting wofully Liveth. Telemachus did thus reply, The case is hard. But grieved though he be, Let him alone; go not out of your way. For first I wish my Father here to see, If in my choice to have my wishes lay. But pray my Mother thither send a Maid, To tell Laertes secretly the news.

When to him thus Telemachus had said, Eumaeus on his ••eet ti'd on his shooes. Ulysses and his Son now left alone, Came Pallas to them. At the door she stood. But by Telemachus she was not known. God are not known but by whom they think good. Ulysses knew her. Fa••r she was and tall, And of a grave wise Mat••on had the look; And by the Dogs perceiv'd was. For they all Whining and errifi'd the place forsook. A signe t'Ulysses she made with her brow. Then he went forth, and she unto him spake. Son of Laertes, wise Ulysses, now Your Son with your designe acquainted make. And when you have the Suiters fate contrived, Go to the City both. 'Twill not be long Before I at your Combat be arrived, And give you my assistance in the throng. Then stroakt him over with a wand of Gold, And presently his Rags were Cloak and Coat. His Cheeks were plump. His Beard black to behold. To which his goodly Locks unlike were not. This done, the Goddess mounted to the Skies. Ulysses to the house again retir'd. But from him then his Son turn'd off his eyes. So much this alteration he admir'd He thought it was some God, and to him said, You are some God descended from the Sky. Your colour's better, better you arraid. Save us. Our Gifts shall on your Altar lie. And then Ulysses said, God I am none. What ail you with the Gods me to compare? For I your Father am whom you bemoan, And for whom you have had such pain and care, And then embrac'd and kiss'd his Son, and wept, So that the ground he stood upon was wet, Though hitherto his eyes he dry had kept. But by his Son believ'd he was not vet. You're not (says he) my Father, but some Spright That flatters me into more misery.

Of mortal men there's none that has the might To do such things without a Deity. A God indeed can mans decay redeem. You were but now an old man ill arraid. And now like one new come from Heaven seem. To this Ulysses answered and said, Telemachus be not amaz'd too much. Other Ulysses you shall never see. I am the man, although my luck be such, As after twenty year not known to be. The change you see was by Athena wrought, That made me what she list (for she can do't.) A Beggar old, or Youth in a fine Coat, And handsome Cloak, and other Garments to't. For easie 'tis for Gods on mortal men To lay on glory, and the same displace. This said, Ulysses sat him down. And then Telemachus his Father did embrace, And then they both together wept and sob'd. As Eagles or as Vultures when they see Their Nests by Country-people spoil'd and rob'd, And young ones kill'd before they fledged be; So wept these two, and weeping there had staid Perhaps until the closing of the day, But that Telemachus t'Ulysses said, Father, how came you t'Ithaca I pray? Where are the Seamen that set you ashore? For sure I am you could not come by land. In a good Ship, said he, I was brought o're From th'Isle Phaeacia, and left o'th' Sand. That people, Strangers all that thither come, Convoy unto the place where they would be. And when I was desirous to go home, At Ithaca asleep they landed me, Enricht with Presents, Garments, Gold and Brass. And in a Cave ••••hidden have the same. And as I by Athena counsel'd was, The Suiters fate to weave I hither came. Tell me how many now they are. That we Consider may if we two and no more

Shall be enough to get the Victory, Or must we of some else the aid implore? O Father (said his Son) you are renown'd For a good Counsellour, a man of might, But very hard the thing is you propound, That two men should against so many fight. They are not only ten, or two times ten, But many more. Their number (let me see) From out Dulichium two and fifty men; And with them lusty Serving men twice three. From Same chosen men come twenty four. Twenty from Zant, and twelve of Ithaca. Redon the Squire, a Fidler, and what more? Two Cooks that of a Feast had learnt the Law. 'Twill be but ill revenge to fight them all. Therefore I think it best to look for aid, And some good Neighbour to assist you call. To this Ulysses answered and said, Consider then and cast it in your mind, Whether we two, Pallas and Jove to boot Will serve, or must we other succours find? Then said his Son, O Father, that will do't. Those friends indeed would serve us very much. Immortals against Mortals have great odds; Higher they stand, and of themselves are such, As would too hard be for all th'other Gods. Yes, said Ulysses, if the Woo'rs and I Come but to Battle once, 'twill not be long Ere such good aids will have the Victory, And make an end of this unruly throng. But you Telemachus go early home To morrow morning; mingle with the rabble, I after you will with Eumaeus come Like to a Beggar old and miserable. Where if you see me us'd ill-favour'dly, Thrown at or pull'd about the house ••y th'heels, As unconcern'd, endure it patiently, What pain soever thereby your heart feels. But yet with gentle words you may persuade them. For sure I am they will not you obey,

The Gods Immortal have so stupid made them As on themselves to bring their fatal day. But now to what I say attentive be. When Pallas shall me prompt, I'll with my head Make you a Signe. Assoon as that you see, Let th'Arms in th'Hall away be carried. And say (if any Su••ter ask wherefore) The fire hath hurt them, and they are not now Such as Ulysses left them heretofore, When with the Greeks t'Ilium he did go. Or say, For fear some Quarrel should arise By th'indiscretion of one or other, You thought the counsel would not be unwise, To take them thence. One drawn Sword draws an∣other. But two Spears, two Swords, & two Shields keep still, To take in hand when we the onset make. Jove from mistrust and Pallas keep them will. And farther from me this instruction take. As I your Father am, and you my Son, Of my return a word let no man hear, Father, or Wife, or Servant any one. To speak of it in company forbear. But let's of the Maid-servants you and I Endeavour what we can to know the mind. And your Men-servants also I would try, From whom you honour or dishonour find. Father, then said Telemachus, you'll see, I am not lose of tongue But 'tis not good The men to question. 'Twill lost labour be, Because without the house they have their food, Though there they havock of your substance make. Do as you please. 'Tis a long business Of ev'ry one of them account to take. Inform your self of th'womens wickedness. I would not willingly go up and down To ev'ry Lodge, what there is done to see. For our work done, theirs will be better known, If you with Signes from Jove acquainted be Thus they discours'd. The Mariners mean while Had brought into the Haven of the Town

The Ship that brought Telemachus from Pyle. Then drew it up to land, the Sails pull'd down. The Presents unto Clytius they bear, And to Penelope a man they sent, That of her Sons arrival she might hear, And how unto Eumaeus Lodge he went, And sent the Ship to put her out of fear, Lest she should for his absence longer weep. Eumaeus was for the same bus'ness there. He from his Lodge, the other from the Deep. He told the Queen th' arrival of her Son. And to her Maids the other told the same. And when they both their Messages had done, Back to Telemachus Eumaeus came. At this the Suiters vext, lookt down and sad, And out o'th' Gates together went, where they Amongst themselves a consultation had, And to them thus Eurylochus 'gan say. 'Tis very strange, Telemachus is come. We thought he never should return agen. But since 'tis so, to call our Fellows home, Let's hire and man a Boat with Fishermen: His words scarce out, Amphinomus comes near, And turning towards th'Haven them espi'd Furling their Sails, and laughing said, Th'are here, You need not any Messenger provide. Some God sure told him of them, or else they Saw the Ship coming by, but were too slow To over take her. This said, they away Down to the waters-side together go. And up unto the land the Ship they hale; Their Servants what was in her bear away. And then to consultation they fall, Nor with them suffer'd any else to stay. To them Antinous began and said, The Gods Telemachus have strangely kept. Our Scouts from Morn to Night o'th' Mountains staid, Nor on the land by night we ever slept, But rowed up and down until 'twas day. We thought he could not scape in any wise.

And yet some Daemor brought him has away. Come, let us how to kill him here devise: For whilst he lives our work will not be done. Crafty he is, and can his purpose hide: Nor have we yet sufficiently won The people of the Town with us to side. The multitude to counsel he will call, And ranting tell them that we go about To murther him, and, so enflame them all That from our Country they will cast us out, And make us beg our bread. Which to eschew Let's kill him in the Fields, or in the Way; Divide his goods amongst us as is due; His Houses to his Mother leave we may, To give to him with whom she means to marry. If this you like not, but that he shall stay, And have his Fathers state, then let's not tarry, But each man to h••s own house go his way, And there contend who shall the best endow her, And in her favour the superiour be. Or let the Fates dispose the happy hour To whom she has a mind to. So said he. Then spake Amphinomus the noble Son Of the rich Nisus Aretiades, Amongst the Wooers inferiour to none, And best of all Penelope did please. Telemachus (said he) I would not kill. 'Tis dangerous to slay the Royal Blood. But let us first of Jove enquire the will. If he command, I'll do••t, and say 'tis good. If he forbid, I wish you to desist. So said Amphinomus, and 'twas thought fit. And presently the Council was dismist And then into the house they go and sit. And now Penelope resolv'd t'appear Before her Su••ters sitting in the Hall. For to her Son she knew they Traytors were. Medon that with them was had t••ld her a••l. Down to the Hall she went, and in the Door Having a Woman at each hand, she stad,

And proud Antinous rebuked sore. Antinous, you Traytor impudent (she said) In Ithaca the Glory you have got Of Wit and Eloquence. You are beli'd. Madman, what all you my Sons death to plot, And to his Strangers here to shew such pride? Poor Strangers have their Passport from the Gods. To do them wrong is great Impiety. And worse between themselves to be at ods. You know your Father hither once did fly, Fearing the People whom he had offended, Joyning with Tophian Thieves to make a prey Of Thesprote Cattle, and were here defended Against the Thesprotes, though our friends were they. They slain him had, and seised his estate, But that Ulysses saved him, and now For to require him what d'ye, O ingrate? You eat his Cattle, and his Wife you wooe, And kill my Son, and daily me molest. Desist, I tell you, and the rest perswade To leave these evil courses, you were best. To this Eurylochus then answer made. Icarius Daughter, wise Penelope, Fear not. None shall lay hands upon your Son, As long as I am living and can see, Who does, his blood shall on my Spear down run. His Father oft has set me on his knee, And given me good Wine, and good Meat rost, Afraid of any Woo'r you need not be. Telemachus of all men I love most. Of death from Gods hand none can warrant you. But as for us you may securely sleep. So said he, and yet then his death did brew. Away went then Penelope to weep, And wept till Pallas came and clos'd her eyes. And to Ulysses and his Son at Night Eumaeus came. A Swine they sacrifice. And then did Pallas from the Sky alight, And with her Rod return'd Ulysses old, And ill arrai'd, for fear he should be known

T'Eumaeus or Penelope, and told By them to others, and abroad be blown. Telemachus then to Eumaeus said: Eumaeus, are you come? what news from Town? The Suiters are they come that me way-laid? Or do they for me still look up and down? Then said Eumaeus, I did not enquire, Upon my Message only was my m••nd. That done, to make haste back was my desire. But there I chanc't a Messenger to find, Sent by your Mates to tell Penelope, And he the news t'your Mother first did tell. I saw a Ship that new came in from Sea, But whether that were it, I know not well. Aboard were many Arms and many Men. And though I were not sure, I thought 'twas it. Telemachus on's Father smiled then, But so as that Eumaeus could not see't. Then came their Supper in, which they fell to. A Supper good they had, and were well pleased. And when their hunger had no more to do, With gentle sleep their fear and care disseised.

LIB. XVII.

SOon as the rosie Morning did appear, Riseth Telemachus; his Shoes puts on; And takes into his hand his heavy Spear; And hasteth to the City to be gone. And said unto Eumaeus, Father, I Am going to the City, there to see My Mother, that will never cease to cry, And sob till in her sight I standing be.

But the poor Stranger guide you to the Town, With broken meat and wine himself to feed, Such as he gets by begging up and down. I cannot maintain all men that have need. Tak't how he will. For I love to speak plain. Then said Ulysses, Sweet Friend, nor would I Here in the Country willingly remain. For Beggars wants great Cities best supply. Here at the Lodge no service I can do. And now to learn of others am too old. With this man to the City I would go, But warm me first I would. For very cold This Morning is. I fear this hoary frost. Far hence the Town is, and my Garments thin; And which I reason have to fear the most, My rags will to the air betray my skin. Telemachus then speedily went home, With mischief to the Suiters in his head. And when he to the Palace-gate was come, T'a Pillar sets his Spear, and entered. Euryclea was cov'ring Chairs i'th' Hall, And saw him first, and straight unto him went; And then the other Woman-servants all Declared with much kissing their content. Then like Diana or fair Aphrodite, Penelope came shedding tears of joy, And on his shoulders laid her arms milk-white, And kist his head and eyes, and thus did say: Telemachus my dear Child, are you here? I never thought again your face to see, Since of your Father news you went to hear At Pyle by Sea, without acquainting me. But tell me what at Pyle they of him say. Mother (said he) pray let me take my breath, My thoughts in great disorder are to day; I come but now from out the jaws of death. But with your Maids go to your Chamber now, And in your fairest Garments you array, And to th'Immortal Gods all make a Vow A perfect Hecatomb to them you'll pay,

If Jove be pleas'd our losses to restore. But I unto the Market-place must haste, To treat a Stranger whom I sent before, And till my coming with Piraeus plac't. Penelope then to her Chamber went, And put her self into her best array. Her Vows to all th'Immortal Gods she sent A perfect Hecatomb to them to pay, If Jove be pleas'd her losses to restore. Telemachus in hand then takes his Spear, And with two Dogs at's heels went out a door; And Pallas made him like a God appear. The people all admir'd him as he came; The Suiters all about him gathered, And spake him fair, while in their hearts they frame Plots and devices how his blood to shed. But he his seat amongst them quickly quits, To Mentor and his Fathers antient friends Altherses, Antephus, with them he sits, And there the time discoursing with them spends. Piraeus not long after cometh in, And brings his Stranger with him to the place, Who there a very little while had been But that Telemachus hard by him was. Then said Piraeus to Telemachus, Send of your women some to fetch away The goodly Presents you left at my house. No, said Telemachus, let them yet stay, I know not yet th'event of our affairs. If th'Wooers kill me and my Goods divide, I rather had they should be yours than theirs. If I kill them, and God be on my side, Then send them, and I'll take them joyfully. And brought away the Stranger with him home. And by and by the Suiters thither hie. And when they all into the house were come, On Couches and on Chairs their Cloaks they lay, And presently into their Baths they go. And bath'd and oyl'd again themselves array, And sat them down. And Supper ready now,

A Maid then water in a Golden Ewre To wash their hands over a Bason brings. The Bason also was of Silver pure. Another on the Tables lays good things, That in her keeping were, and sets on Bread. Penelope sat spinning in the door. And then they heartily fell to and fed. And when desire of meat and drink was o're, Unto her Son Penelope then spake: I will, said she, upon my Bed lie down, Though there I ever weeping lie awake, Since he went with Atrides to Troy-Town, Since you would not vouchsafe to let me know The news you heard, before these men came'in. Mother (said he) the truth I'll tell you now. We went to Pyle, and Nestor we have seen. And lovingly we entertained were. For as a Father entertains his Son Come home from far; so were we treated there, And welcome to his Children every one. But that Ulysses was alive or dead, He met with no man that could tell him true. But us to go to Sparta counselled, And said, If any, Menelaus knew. And us with Coach and Horses did provide (Where we saw Helen, bane of Greece and Troy) He also sent his Son with us for Guide, And thither come receiv'd we were with joy. Atrides of my coming askt the reason. I told him all the truth. He answer'd then, Oh ho, into the strong mans house by Treason Are entred many weak and heartless men. As when a Stag and Hinde entring the Den Of th'absent Lion, lulls his whelps with tales Of Hills and Dales, the Lion comes agen And tears them into pieces with his nails; So shall Ulysses all these rascals slay. Oh that the Gods Apollo, Pallas, Jove, Amongst the Suiters bring him would one day, Such as when with Philomelide he strove,

And threw him flat, and made the Argives glad, If such Ulysses once amongst them were, Short would their lives be, and their wedding bad. But of the matter, whereof you enquire, On my own knowledg I can nothing say, Nor will with rash conjectures you beguile. I told was with Calypso he doth stay (By Proteus and old Sea-God) in an Isle, And would come home, but wants both ship & men To pass him o're the broad back of the Main. This said, we took our leaves, a fair gale then Quickly convei'd us o're the liquid plain. After Telemachus had spoken t••us, Penelope her heart was ill at ease. And then spake to her Theoclymenus: Wife of Ulysses Laertiades, This man (said he) knows not, hear me. For I Jove's mind foresee. Jove first, and then the Ghost That takes the care of this b••est family, And dwelling in it doth maintain the rost, You know Ulysses is now in this Isle, Sitting or creeping, and observes these Wooers, What evil deeds they do. And he the while The Destiny contriveth of the doers. I saw the same at Sea by Augury, And said unto Telemachus no less. Oh that the Gods would make it true, said she, I'd so reward you that men should you bless. While they together thus within discourse, The Suiters were gone out to throw the Stone, And Darts upon the Green before the doors As they at other times before had done. Now Supper-time drew near. Sheep home were brought. From ev'ry field. Then Medon to them spake, (Who 'mongst the Suiters had most favour got) Come in, says he, and care of Supper take. For of these Games, I see you have your fill. In supping early damage there is none. Agreed they were; none thought the motion ill. They then into the Hall went every one.

On Couches and on Chairs their Cloaks they throw. Great Sheep, fat Goats enough they sacrifice And franked Swine, and from the Herd a Cow. Mean while Eumaeus to the City hies, Ulysses with him, to whom thus he said: Come Father, let us to the City go, Since 'tis my Masters will. You should have staid If my advice you would have hearkned to, But the Commands of Masters are severe; The time o'th' day already is much spent. And though it will be late e're we be there, I fear, e're it be night you will repent. And then Ulysses to Eumaeus said, I hear, I understand, I pray go on. Only of rugged way I am afraid, Give me a good strong staff to lean upon. Then on his shoulder he his Scrip did throw; Given he had a great Staff to his mind, And they two to the Town together go, Leaving the Swineherds and the Dogs behind. Ulysses like a Beggar old and lame, And all his Rayment ragged was and wretched. But when they near unto the Fountain came, From which the Citizens their water fetched, The Fountain sweetly streaming and well made B'Ithacus Neritus, Polector Kings, That flieth from a high and chilling shade, Where in a Poplar Grove arise the Springs, And there an Altar is, and on the same The Passengers to th'Nymphs pay offerings. When we were there, Melanthus to us came, And Goats, the fattest of his Herds, he brings. Whither now goest thou with this Beggar here, This Trouble-feast, who begging scraps and snuffs, (Not Swords and Kettles) many blows shall bear Of flying Foot-stools, and get many Cuffs. Would thou wouldst give him me my Lodge to keep, And lead my Goats afield with a green bough, And live on Whey, and my Goat-houses sweep, And his great knee unto such service bow.

But hang him, he has such a custome got Of Idleness with begging of his food, That labour for his living he will not. But this I tell you, and 'twill be made good, When he within Ulysses house appears, Many a footstool in the Hall will fly From out the Suiters hands about his ears. This said, he pass'd, and kick'd him going by. Ulysses still stood firm upon the path, Thinking to strike him with his great staff dead, Or otherwise to kill him in his wrath. But in the end his wrath he conquered. Eumaeus then held up his hands and pray'd: Nymphs of these Fountains, Daughters of Great Jove, If the sat Gifts here by Ulysses laid Upon your Altars were receiv'd with love, G••ant that he may come safely home again By some good Spirit to his house convai'd. Then (to Melantheus said he) all in vain Will be your triumph, and your pride allai'd, Wherewith you to the Suiters daily go. And Knaves remain the Cattle to abate. Then said Melantheus again, O ho! How boldly does this Dog, this Raskal prate! Whom one day I shall from hence ship away, And make of him somewhere abroad good gain. Would th'Wooers, or Phoebus, but as surely slay The Son, as 'tis t'expect his Father vain. When this was said, away he went apace, And coming to the Suiters in the Hall, Against Eurymachus he took his place, Whom best he loved of the Suiters all. And there the Waiters set before him meat. The Women of the Pantry brought him bread. Ulysses and Eumaeus were not yet Arriv'd, but near, for close they followed, And of the Fiddle they could hear the din. Ulysses said unto Eumaeus then, 'Tis a fine house Ulysses dwelled in, And eas'ly known from those of other men,

The Court with Wall and Hedge is fenced strong, Having strong Gates, with two Locks great & fast. Some Feast here is; I hear the sound of Song, And Fiddle, which with Feast the Gods have plac't. Then answered Eumaeus, 'Tis well guest, And other things you mark as well as this. But let us now consider what is best, In that which at this time our bus'ness is. Go you in first, and put your self among The Suiters; or if you think better so, I'll first go in, but do not you stay long, Lest you of one or other take a blow. I hear, I understand. Go you in first. The Seas and Wars have taught me patience. Of all my suff'rings this is not the worst. Of blows and throws I have experience. And may the Suiters henceforth have the same. The Belly forceth Mortals to much Woe. But there is no force can the Belly tame. It sets the Good Ship on the Sea to go, Which t'one another evil fortune bears. While they discoursed thus before the door, Ulysses Dog held up his head and ears, Argus by name, that had been long before Well lookt to, ere Ulysses went to Troy. They with him cours'd the wild Goat, Deer, and Hare; But all the while his Master was away, The Servants of his keeping took no care, But on the Dung before the Door he lay, Which there was heap'd to manure Fields & Leas, From many Mules and Cattle faln away. There lay the old Dog Argus full of Fleas. And as Ulysses near was couch'd his ears, And fauned with his tail, but could not rise. And which Eumaeus did not s••e, the tears Ready to fall were from Ulysses eyes. And then Ulysses to Eumaeus said, This is a very well-shap'd Dog I see. 'Tis strange to see him on a Dunghil laid, I know not whether also swift he be,

Or for his beauty only was he fed, As Lords make much of Dogs for being fine, And at their Tables see them cherished. Then answered the Master of the Swine: The Master of him is of life bereft. If now he were the same for shape and deed He then was when Ulysses here him left, You'ld quickly see he had both strength and speed. There was no Beast he once saw in the Wood That could escape him. For not only swift, But also at a Scent was very good. But now himself scarce able is to lift. For why his Master being dead and gone, He was not left unto the Womans care. And when the Master is not looking on, Men servants of their duty careless are. For half the vertue taken is away Of whosoever is to service ti'd. This said, into the house he went his way. And Argus, having seen his Master, d••'d. Telemachus, the first that saw him enter, Unto him nodded to come to his Seat. A Chopping-board was near him by adventure. He took up that, whereon to eat his meat. And near Telemachus he plac'd the same. A Waiter sets before him flesh and bread. And after him Ulysses also came Like an old Beggar torn and tattered. And said t'Eumaeus, Give the Beggar this, And bid him go and try the charity Of all the rest; and tell him hurtful 'tis For Beggars to have too much modesty. Eumaeus then streight went unto the Guest, And said, Telemachus doth give you this, And bids you try your fortune with the rest, For modesty to Beggars hurtful is. And then Ulysses to Eumaeus says, God bless Telemachus and make him great, And always grant him that for which he prays. And then with both his hands receiv'd his meat.

And as the Fiddle with the Feast gives o're, Ulysses when he eaten had his meat, Sate quiet on the Sill and said no more. But still amongst the Woo'rs the noise was great. Then Pallas comes and stands Ulysses by, And bids him try the Suiters as they sat Which of them had, which wanted charity, Though they the same men would be for all that. Then rising up, before the first he stands, And to the right hand onward still he goes To every one, and holds up both his hands, Like one that well the Art of Begging knows. They gave him meat, and wondred at the man, And one another askt, Who is't, and whence. And then Melanthius to speak began: I saw h••m, said he, but a little since Brought hither by the Master of the Swine. But who he is, his Kindred, and his place, It is not in my power to divine. This said, Antinous in choler was. O noble Master of the Swine, said he, What made you here to introduce this Guest? Think you that yet too few the Beggars be, That you must needs invite this trouble-feast, Your Lords estate the sooner to eat up? Good as you are (says he) you say not right. No man a Stranger e're call'd in to Sup, And him on no acquaintance did invite, Unless he were a man that mo•••• men need, Prophet, Physician, or Armourer, Or Fidler at a Feast; for when men feed A Song doth adde delight unto the chear. These use to be invited ev'ry where. Who ever call'd a Beggar in to eat? But to the Servants you still cruel were, And of them all you me the worst did treat. But I care little whilst Penelope Alive is, and Telemachus her Son. Telemachus then bad him silent be. Eumaeus (said he) let him now alone,

He loves to quarrel, and set others on! Then to Antinous he turn'd and spake, Is this as from a Father to his Son, To bid me, make my Guest my house forsake? I'll never do't. Give him what Alms you will, Nor shall my Mother, nor I, nor a man, Nor woman that here dwelleth take it ill. But eat than give, it seems you better can. Then said Antinous, These words are great, And passionate, but spoken without need. If thus we all go on to give him meat, He may himself three months together feed. This said, his Footstool to his foot he drew. Ulysses with his Scrip went to the Sill, (For it was full) meaning to beg anew. And first he tries Antinous his will. Give a poor Stranger (says he.) You appear Amongst th' Achaeans here to be the best. For like a King you look, and reason 'twere You should in bounty exceed all the rest. And I abroad your goodness will make known. I could for riches once with most compare, And kept a great and free house of my own, And askt what want you, man, not what you are. And many Servants had, and things that pass For happiness amongst us mortals all, Till t' Aegypt I by Knaves perswaded was To sail. I'th' Nile we let our Anchors fall. There I my Fellows bid aboard to stay And guard the ships; and some to places high I sent to watch. But mov'd by lucre they On Plunder and on Rapine had their eye. The fields they waste, and kill the men, and make Women and Children captives. Then the cry Arriving at the City, Arms they take, And next day early to the fields they hie With Horse and Foot. Then thundered the Field, Their Armour lightned. My men frighted were. Some taken and made Slaves, some flying kill'd, And all the rest ran scatter'd here and there.

To th' King of Cyprus I was made a Gift, Dmetor by name, the King of Aegypt's Guest. And to come hither thence, I made hard shift. Then said Antinous, Stand off you're best. What Devil to molest us sent this Rogue Unmannerly, that with such impudence To beg presumeth here, and to cologue? Stand off. Or ill at ease I'll send you hence. They that have given have done foolishly, And at another's cost been charitable. No wonder in such superfluity. Ulysses then retired from the Table. O, O, said he, I had but little skill, That from the Aspect have inferred Wit. Not give (I see) a crum of salt you will To a poor man that humbly asketh it. Antinous at this enrag'd at th'heart, Look'd on Ulysses angerly and said, To part hence safely thou not likely art; Since to my face thou dar'st me thus upbraid. This said, he threw the Footstool at his head, Which touch'd his shoulder, but remov'd him not. Then to the Sill himself he rendered, Shaking his head with vengeance in his thought. Ulysses then unto the Suiters spake. A man (said he) not much is griev'd a blow In fighting for his Kine or Sheep to take. But he did for his Belly at me throw. If any care the Gods of poor men have, Antinous before he marri'd be, Is like enough to go into his Grave. Antinous replies, Sit quietly And eat your meat, lest taken by the heels The Servants hale and drag you out o'th' Ga••e, Or use you worse, your tongue so runs on wheels. At this the rest all discontented sate, And one among the rest unto him said, Antinous, it was unjustly done To use a Stranger so. The Gods arraid In poor mens habits mens deeds look upon,

And notice take, who well does, and who ill. Telemachus was grieved at the heart For what was done, but did no tear distil, But shook his head, & hop'd to make them smart. When what had pass'd was told Penelope, Apollo strike him to the heart, said she. If I my wish had, said Euryno••ne, No Suiter of them all the Morn should see. Then said Penelope again, 'Tis true, They all be enemies, and mean us evil. But he the fiercest is of all the Crew, And rageth in the house like any Devil. A Stranger in distress comes to the door, Whom want constrained had to beg his bread. The rest all give him somewhat of their store, But he a Footstool throweth at his head. While she thus and her Women talking were, Ulysses supping sat upon the Sill. I fain (said she) would have the Beggar here. Fetch him Eumaeus, talk with him I will. I'll ask him if Ulysses he have seen, For many Men and Cities knoweth he. Eumaeus then made answer to the Queen: If once the Suiters would but silent be, You would be pleas'd his History to hear. Three days and nights he staid with me an end. And of his suff'rings much ••e told me there When new arriv'd; but came not to the end. As when a man that knows the Art of Song, Sings lovely words with sweet & well-tun'd voice, The man that hears him thinks not the time long; So I in his strange Story did rejoyce. He said Ulysses was his Fathers Guest, In th'Isle of Crete where reigneth Minos race. Himself (he said) with many woes opprest, The Fates at last him turnbled to this place. And that he heard Ulysses is hard by, And that into Thesprotia he's come Alive and well; enriched mightily With Treasure which he now is bringing home.

Then said Penelope, Go call me hither The Beggar. I my self will ask him all. And mean while let the Suiters chat together Where they think best without or in the Hall. For merry they must be, since they seed here, And their own Corn and Wine and Cattle save, And with ou•• Gattle make themselves good chear, And on our Corn and Wine no mercy have. For such as was Ulysses here is none, That should defend us from their injuries. But were he hither come, he, and his Son, Would bring destruction on these enemies. This said; it chanc'd Telemachus to sneeze. She laught, and for the Beggar calls agen. You see Eumaeus, Jove with me agree••, And certainly slain shall be all these men. Go call the Beggar, and say this from me, If I find true what he shall to me say, He shall with Coat and Vest rewarded be. Eumaeus to the Beggar went his way. And when he near him was, Father, said he, Penelope desires to speak with you. About Ulysses she inform'd would be, And said, If she find all you say be true, She clothe you will with a fair Goat and Vest, Which you stand most in need of. But for food By begging in the Town you'll get it best, Where they relieve you will that shall think good. Ulysses to Eumaeus answered, Penelope I quickly can inform. For he and I have jointly suffered. But from the Suiters I much fear a storm. Their insolence is known up to the Sky. Just now a Footstool one threw at my head, When given him no cause at all had I, Nor could I by her Son be succoured. Therefore intreat Penelope to stay Until the Sun be set and Su••ters gone, And by the fire-side hear what I can say. You see what woful Garments I have on.

Then back Eumaeus went with his excuse, And came without him to Penelope. How now (said she) does he to come refuse? They that are bashful but ill Beggars be. Not so, O Queen (said he) he is discreet. He prays you stay till se••ting of the Sun, Fearing some danger from the Woo'rs to meet. And for you also then 'will best be done. I see (quoth she) the Stranger wants not Wit. For in the world never so many men Contriving mischief did together fit. So said Penelope. Eumaeus then Went down and put himself into the throng, And to Telemachus said in his ear, I have been absent from my Swine too long. I go, and to your care leave all things here, And chiefly of your life to have a care. Many there are that bear you evil mind, And how to take your life contriving are. But may they first their own destruction find. Then said Telemachus, And so 'twill be. Farewel. But I advise you first to dine. The bus'ness here leave to the Gods and me. Then din'd he and went back unto the Swine, Next Morning with more Victims to return. And full he left the Hall and Court with men, Who there themselves to Song and Dancing turn. For less than half the day remained then.

LIB. XVIII.

THen came a Beggar to Ulysses Gate. The man to see to was both great and tall, Though but a lither sellow. Down he sate Boldly within the Porch before the Hall. He had a greedy gut, and named was At first Arnaeus, then Irus; for he went On errants oft, when ever there was cause. The Wooers favour made him insolent. This Beggar thought to drive Ulysses thence. Dost see those Princes how they wink at me, And by the heels would have me pluck thee hence? Though to do that I should ashamed be. Go from the door Old man lest I should do it. Up therefore quickly and be gone; arise Before that with my fists I force you to it. Ulysses frowning answer'd in this wise: Strange man, I neither do thee harm, nor say Thee any ill. Here's room for thee and me. I do not envy you the meat which they Shall give you here, how much so e're it be. Envy not other men; I think you are As well as I a Beggar; but forbear To threaten me too much. You're best beware, Old as I am, lest I your lips besmear And breast with blood, and so have better room. For to Ulysses house I'm confident Thou never wilt be able more to come. This made the Beggar more impatient, O (says he) how the Raskal prates! 'Twere well To beat the Raskals teeth out, while his Tongue

Thus runs on wheels, till to the ground they fell. Let these see fight the Old-man with the Young. Whilst in great heat they quarrell'd at the door, They by Antinous observed were, Who laughing said, There never came before Such sport to th'House. The Beggars standing there Will go to cuffs, I pray let's hold them to it. Then up they start, and round about them stand. There are o'th' fire good padding full of suit, Of these, let him that conquers lay his hand On which he will. So said Antinous, And have the priviledge, and none but he To beg within the Porch before the house, And of our talk at meat a hearer be. The motion pleas'd. And then Ulysses spake: The match is hard, an Old-man'gainst a Younger, Yet this my Belly bids me undertake. And I'm acquainted more with blows than hunger. But I must first intreat you all to swear Not to help Irus, nor a heavy hand To lay on me, but both of us forbear, And justly 'twixt us both as Neuters stand. When all had sworn, then said Telemachus, Stranger, if thou dare combat with this man None else shall do thee hurt. Antinous, Eurymachus, and I defead you can. This said, Ulysses cover'd kept his gear, But shew'd his shoulders wide, & his strong thighs. His large breast and his brawny arms appear. And Pallas standing by inlarg'd his size. At which the Suiters greatly wondered, And one unto another softly said, Irus has pull'd an old house on his head. And Irus then was mightily afraid. But yet by force the Servants brought him out, His flesh still trembling on his limbs with fear, Shew not thy self a Coward and a Lout; Nor fear a man worn out with many a year. For if he get the better, thou shalt go Unto King Takim, and there by his Law

Thy nose and ears, and privy parts also Shall be cut off, and dogs shall eat them raw. This made him quake more yet. Into the lists They brought him so. Both ready were to fight. Ulysses then thought how to use his fists, Whether to beat him down or kill him quite. But not t'offend the Suiters thought it best To strike him gently. And when they were near Irus did hit Ulysses on the breast. Ulysses Irus struck just under th'ear. He broke the bones, at's mouth the blood gusht out. He fell, squeakt, shed his teeth. The Suiters were With laughter almost dead, that stood about. Ulysses drag'd him to the utter-gate, And set him to the hedge, as 'twere a Signe, And put a Staff in's hand. As there he sate Ulysses bad him keep out Dogs and Swine. Think not thy self, quoth he, of Beggars King (That art a very wretch) and wandering Souls. This said; ore's head he threw the twisted string By which his Scrip hung rag'd and full of holes. Then sat him down i'th' Porch. The Suiters enter All laughing in, and as they passed by Greatly congratulated his adventure. Stranger, said they, Jove and the Gods on high, Grant thee whatever thou shalt most desire, That hast reliev'd us from the Raskal there. We'll send him to King Takim in Epire. And glad Ulysses was his praise to hear. Antinous a Haggas brought fill'd up With sat and blood, and to't Amphinomus Two loaves of bread, and with't a gilded Cup Of lusty Wine, and said unto him thus; Hall, Father, Stranger, rich and happy be As ere you were; though many miseries Oppress you now. He answer'd him, I see Amphinomus, you prudent are and wise. So was your Father. Nisus was his name. Prince of Dulichium, both rich and wise.

You are his Son, as I am told by Fame; Therefore I will a little you advise. There's not a weaker Creature lives o'th' ground, Or goes, or creeps upon it than a Man. Who whilst he's strong, and all His limbs are sound, He makes account that ••ail he never can. But when the Gods shall have decreed him woe, He less endures it than another can. Such is the nature Jove has assign'd to This weak and short-liv'd Creature called Man. For I my self was rich, and lived in Great plenty, and was very insolent, Bold on my strength, my Father, and my Kin, Therefore let no man be too confident. But rather quietly God's Gifts enjoy. These Suiters here bring this into my mind Who of an absent man the Goods destroy, And that at last unto their cost they'll find. For this I tell you (mark well what I say) That he will soon, nay very quickly come, And that will be to some a heavy day. Pray God that at his coming you keep home. This said, he drank, and to Amphinomus Return'd the Cup, who shook his head in vain. For not long after by Telemachus Amongst the rest of th'Wooers he was slain. Then Pallas puts Penelope in mind T'appear unto the Wooers that she might Before her Son and Husband honour find, And further bring the Suiters thoughts to light. Penelope then laught not knowing why. Eurynome (said she) my mind says go, And shew your self before the Company. Which heretofore I never thought to do. I hate them, yet I mean to go to th'door, And bid my Son their company ••o shun, And mix himself with those ill men no more. Dear Child, said the old woman, 'tis well done. Go tell him whatsoever you think fit, But wash away the tears first from your eyes,

And 'noint your Cheeks; they must sometimes remit And hide their grief, that will be counted wise. You have your wish, your Son now is a man. Penelope then answered her again; Restored be my beauty never can: 'Nointing and washing now are all in vain. The Gods, Eurynome, then took away All beauty from me when Ulysses went With Agamemnon to the Siege of Troy; Such words afford me now but small content. Call Hippodamia and Autonoe. For why, I am asham'd my self alone Amongst so many men in sight to be. They shall go with me, on each side me one. But when th'old woman was gone out, and staid, Then Pallas pour'd sweet sleep upon her eyes, And on her face a greater beauty laid, And also made her limbs of larger fize, And whiter than the purest Ivory. Having so done the Goddess rise to th'Skies. Her Maidens coming made a noise, and she Awak'd, and with her hand she strok'd her eyes. I've had (said she) a very gentle sleep. O that Diana such a gentle death Would send me presently, nor let me weep My life out, nor with sorrow give me breath, Sorrow for my dear Husband, best of all The Grecian Princes, and that said, then down She goes to th'Porch before the door of th'Hall With her two Maids, she would not go alone. And so stood at the door within their sight, But with her Scarf her Cheeks a little shaded. A Ma••d stood at her left hand and her right. When she appear'd Love all their hearts invaded. Her speech then to Telemachus sh'addrest, Telemachus (said she) your Wit's less now Than when you were a Boy. 'Twas then at best. And backward more and more it seems to grow. Now you are ta••l, and come to mans estate, And 'counted are the best mens Sons among,

Of your discretion you begin t'abate. Why else d'ye let your Stranger suffer wrong? If you your Guests thus treat, what think you, can Men say of you, that's good or honourable? You'll be reproach'd and scorn'd of every man, And taken for a man unhospitable. Mother, said he, you well may angry be; And yet I better know what's good and ill Than heretofore. But these men hinder me. I cannot without help do all I will. The Quarrel 'twixt my Guest and Irus was None of the Suiters act, by chance it rose, As they sate begging from some other cause, And Irus only bare away the blows. O Jupiter (I wish) and all the Gods, That all your Suiters were in Irus case, (Who yonder sits like one that's drunk, and nods) Either here right or in some other place, Unable to go home. I'enelope And her lov'd Son so talkt. And then Eurymachus, if all the Lords (said he) Which now through Arg••s bear rule over men Should see you now, more Suiters you'ld have here (For you do far all woman-kind surpass) And come betime to taste of your good chear. None such for fair and prudent ever was. No, no, said she. For wher Ulysses went With th' Argive Princes to the War of Troy, The Immortal Gods took from me my content, And with it all these Ornaments away. Were he come home that took a care of me, I should more honour have and beauty so. But now I lead my life in misery, The Gods some evil on me daily throw. My Husband when he parted hence to fight For Agamemnon 'gainst the Trojans, laid At taking leave on my left hand his right, And all those words of counsel to me said: Expect you cannot (Wife) that we that go Over the Sea unto the Siege of Troy

Shall all come safe away. The Trojans know How t'use the Dart and Bowe too, as men say; And are good Horsmen also, and can see All their advantages in ranged field. Therefore I know not what my luck will be, Either to come again, or to be kill'd. My Father and my Mother I therefore To you commend, to see them cherished, As they are now, or (in my absence) more. And when Telemachus is grown, then wed. Take whom your self like best, and leave this house, This said, he parts. Ay me, the time is come I must embrace a Marriage dious, And I must leave this my most blessed home. Suiters were wont when they a Woman woo'd Of noble Parentage, to please her all They could, and strive who most should do her good; Mine daily eat and drink me up in th' Hall. This said, Ulysses was well pleas'd to see His Wife draw Presents from them, and was glad, And th'Wooers by her over reacht to be With her fine words, when other thoughts she had, Then said Antinous: Penelopt, Fair and wise Daughter of Icarius, Beceive what e're by us shall offer'd be. It is not good, good Presents to refuse, Yet till you chuse some one whom you think best To be your Husband, we resolve to stay, And be each one of us your constant Guest, And never absent from your house a day. And with Antinous they all agree, Who her presented with a fair, large, rich And divers-colour'd Robe, with four times three Buckles of pure and beaten Gold, and which As many clasps of Gold had joyned fit. Eurymachus his Present was a Chain Of Gold and Amber-Beads alternate. It Shin'd bright as is the Sun-shine after rain. Enrydamas two Pendants gave, of which Each had three Gems and polisht very bright,

And both for Art and Workmanship were rich, Reflecting to the eye a lovely light. Pysandrus Son of Polycterides Gave her a costly Necklace. All the rest With some good Gift endeavoured to please The fair and wise Penelope the best. This done, unto her Chamber up she went With her two Maids that did her Presents carry. Th'Woo'rs with dancing and with merriment, (Their wonted pastime) for the Ev'ning tarry. The Ev'ning came, and then the Lamps were lighted, And Torches, and the Fit-s••aves long lain dry, Which to that purpose had with Tools been fitted And ready lay to light the Company. The Lights the Maids took up by turns & bore them. Then said Ulysses, Maidens, if you please, To save your pains, I'll bear the Light before them. I'm us'd to labour and can do't with case Though they should stay and sit up till to morrow. You may go up unto the Queen and there Sit and spin with her, and divert her sorrow. At this the Wenches'gan to laugh and jeer. And one of them (Melantho) him revil'd With bitter words. Her Father Dolius hight. Penelope did treat her as her Child And in her company did take delight. But yet she could not put away her grief. The Wench was fair, and too familiar was With Prince Eurymachus, one of the chief Of all her Suiters. And this woman 'twas. And thus she said, Sure (Stranger) thou art mad That wilt not here nor elsewhere go to bed. Is it because thou too much ••ine hast had? Or is't a humour in thy nature bred To prate so boldly in such Company? Thy Victory o're Irus may perhaps Have made thee wild. A better man than he May chance to send thee hence with bloody chaps. Ulysses looking sourly answered, You Bitch, Telemachus shall streight-way know

These words. He'll cause thee to be tortured. They fearing he would do't, away they go. Ulysses ready stood to take in hand A torch when bidden; casting in his mind How he might safely carry on the grand Mischief against the Woo'rs he had design'd. And Pallas yet not suffer'd them to keep Themselves in any bounds of Modesty, But fix Ulysses anger yet more deep. Eurymachus then said to th'standers by To make them laugh, Ulysses to disgrace, Hear Sirs I pray, what now comes in my thought. The man comes opportunely to this place, 'Tis sure some God that him has hither brought To give us greater light. For from his head Methinks I see arise another flame Besides the flame the Torch gives, and so spread Upon his bald pate doubled has the same. Then says t'Ulysses, Man wilt thou serve me To pluck up Thorns & Bry'rs, and Trees to plant? Thou shalt have meat enough, and clothes, and fee, And shooes, and whatsoever thou shalt want. But since thou haft been us'd to idleness, I doubt thou ne'r wilt labour any more, But rather feed thy carcass labourless, And wandring choose to beg from door to door. This said, Ulysses answer'd him agen: Eurymachus, if we two were to try Our labour, in a large green meadow, when The days are long, the weather hot and dry, With equal Sithes from morning unto night; Or with two equal oxen fed and strong Were fasting put to plow to try our might Which of us labour could indure most long; Or if an Enemy to day should land, And I a Helmet had fit for my head, And Target, and two fit Spears for my hand, Then you should see whether I fought or fled, And not reproach m' of sloth or poverty. You are too cruel, and you do me wrong,

And think your self a man of might to be, Because they weaker are you live among. But should Ulysses come and find you here, You'ld think the door (though it be very wide) As you are running out too narrow were. So glad youl'd be your heads to save or hide. To this Eurymachus with bended brow, And furious eye, answer'd, Wretch that thou art, And dar'st so saucily to prate. How now! 'Twill not be long before I make thee smart. Is it because thou too much Wine hast had? Or is't thy nature always to be bold? Or is't t'have beaten Irus makes thee mad? This said, upon a Footstool he laid hold, And threw it at him, but it hit him not. Ulysses sunk on's knees, the stool flew o're His head, and a Cup-bearer next him smot On the right hand, and down he falls o'th' floor. Much the disorder then was in the room, And one unto another next him said, I would this Beggar hither had not come, But somewhere else before had perished. For what ado about a Beggar's here? The pleasure of our Dinner all is lost. Then said Telemachus, Can you not bear (Madmen) your wine and chear both boil'd & rost? When fill'd, why do you not go home and sleep? Go when you will, I drive you not away. The Suiters at this boldness bit the lip, And thought it strange, but yet did nothing say. Then said Amphinomus, Let's not fall out With any man for speaking truth, nor be Rude and unkind. Cup-bearers, bear about To every man the Cup of Charity. And so go each man home, for now 'tis late (Leaving the Stranger with Telemachus, Whose Guest he is) and our selves recreate With gentle sleep each one in his own house. Then Meleus to each man presents a Cup, Whereof unto the Gods they offer'd part.

When this was done each one his Wine drank up, And then unto their houses they depart.

LIB. XIX.

ULysses in the house remain'd; and staid Contriving how the Suiters to destroy. And streightway to Telemachus he said, Carry the Armour in the Hall away. And tell them gently (if they ask wherefore) The fire has hurt them, and they are not now Such as Ulysses left them heretofore When with the Greeks he did to Ilium go. Or say, For sear some quarrel might arise By th' indiscretion of one or other, You thought the counsel would not be unwise To take them thence. One drawn sword draws an∣other. Blemachus then calls his Nurse, and said, Euryclea, shut all the rooms up fast. Be sure to keep within door every Maid, Till I my Fathers Arms have elsewhere plac't. The smoke does spoil them all. But I will now Free them from soot. I'm glad (said she) at last To see your husbandry. But I would know Who 'tis shall light you when the Maids are fast. My Guest (says he) this Stranger whom you see. For here he feeds, and nothing has to do. How far soever hence his dwelling be, I think 'tis reason he should help me too. The Nurse did what commanded she had been. They laid up Helmets, Bucklers, Swords & Spears; And Pallas with a Lamp came in unseen, And up and down the Light before them bears.

Then (Father) said Telemachus, I see The walls, beams, roof, and all the pillars shine Like any sire, and certainly there be Within the house some of the Powers Divine. Peace (said Ulysses) be not curious, The purpose of the Gods you cannot find. Go you to bed. I must go through the house To find the Womens and your Mothers mind. Telemachus then to his Chamber went In which before he worted was to lie, Leaving his Father in the house, intent On how (with Pallas) to make th' Wooers die. Forth comes Penelope into the Hall More than Diana, more than Venus fair, Her Maids upon her were attending all, And set down for her a most stately Chair Made by Iemalius of Silver plate, And Iv'ry turned, white as any Snow, And Footstool thereto fix'd. And there in State Sat down the sair Penelope, and now The Housmaids enter in and take away The Tables, and the Bowls, the Cups, and Bread Which (the Wooers gone) about the room still lay; And having made a fire there went to bed. Melantho then Ulysses bitterly Rebuk'd again. Art thou here (said she) still, To peep at th' Women in the night, and spy What they are doing? An't may be hast the will To stay all night. Go quickly. Get thee gone. Th' ast supt. Lest thou be driven out of door With brands of sire. To this new insolence Ulysses answer'd gentilie•• than before. Why d'ye pursue me thus? Is it because I am not fine, but have ill Rayment on? The time has been I rich and wealthy was, And Begga••s I did much bestow upon. Not looking on the men, but on their want. And many Servants had. Of that which makes Men called Rich, I knew not any scant. But Jove not only Riches gives but takes.

Think therefore that your Beauty will decay, Or of your Mistress you may lose the grace, Or that Ulysses may come back one day. And though he ne're return unto his place, His Son Telemachus knows all you do; Knows better now what's good, and what is worse. Then be hereafter modester. Go to. Penelope o'reheard all this discourse. Bold Bitch (said she) I know what deeds you've done, Which thou shalt one day pay for with thy head. Did not I tell thee when the Woo'rs were gone That I to speak with him had ordered? Eurynome, I've much to say, said she, Unto this man. Set here a Chair, that so Sitting I may hear him, and he hear me. For there are many things I'd from him know. Ulysses sat. Penelope began. The Question I will ask you first is this. What is your Name, and who your Parents be, And further tell me where your Country is. When she had said, Ulysses thus replies, O Queen, through all the world your praises ring, Your vertues known are up unto the Skies, No less than of some great and happy King, That maintains Justice, and whose fertile ground Bears store of Wheat and Barley, and whose Trees Are charg'd with Fruit, and all his sheep stand sound, And under him a valiant people sees. And therefore ask me what you will beside. My Kin and Country to my self I'd keep. For then my grief I can no longer hide, Or think thereon, but ready am to weep. Which here would be no seemly thing to do. For why, your Maids might peradventure think, And you your self, it may be, think so too, My tears came not from sorrow but from drink. Stranger (said she) my Beauty, Form, and Worth Th' Immortal Gods took from me then away When first Ulysses with the Greeks went forth To that abominable Town of Troy.

But were he here, that had the care of me, I should more honour have, and beauty so. But now I lead my life in misery. The Gods upon me troubles daily throw. For all the Lords that in these Islands be, Same, Dulichium, and woody Zant, And Ithaca it self, Suiters to me, My house continually together haunt. And there devour my Cattle, Corn and Wine, So that of Strangers I can take no care, Nor can my self dispose of what is mine, Nor Messengers receive that publike are. But longing for my Husband fit and pine. They press for Marriage, I to put it by. Then came into my thought (some Power divine Sure prompt me) to set up a Beam. So I A Beam set up, and then began to weave. Suiters (said I) since dead Ulysses is, Stay yet a little while and give me leave To make an end but of one business. I must for old Laertes make a Cloth, Which in his Sepulchre he is to wear. T'offend the Wives of Greece I should be loath. For to accuse me they will not forbear. They'll say I very hasty was to wed, If I go hence and not provide a shroud Wherein Laertes must be buried, Out of his wealth. That might have been allow'd. My Suiters all were well content. And then All day I wove; but ere I went to bed, What I had wov'n I ravel'd out agen. Three years my Suiters I thus frustrated. In the fourth year my women me betrai'd; And in they came while I the Web undid; I could the wedding now no more avoid, But I was rated by them much and chid. What I am next to do I cannot tell; My Father and my Mother bid me marry; My Son is weary, and takes not very well That th'Woo'rs devouring him should longer tarry.

But for all this I long to know your Stock. For sure you come not of the fabled Oak, Nor are, I think, descended from a Rock. To this Ulysses answering thus spoke: Wife of Ulysses, since you so much press To know my Kindred and from whence I come, Although the telling grieve me, I'll confess, For I have now long absent been from home. In the wide Sea a fertile Island lies, Innumerable therein are the men, Creta by name. Many diversities There are of Tongues; and Cities nine times ten. There dwell Achaeans and Cydonians, And antient true Creatans, Tribachichs, And also Dorichs and Pelasgians, Who divers Dialects together mix. And Cnossus the prime City was of these Where Minos reigned; the great Minos that, Who often used with great Chronides Familiarly of old to sit and char. Minos my Fathers Father was, and he Deucalion begot. Deucalion First got Idomeneus, and then got me. He went to Troy. My name is Aithon. There 'twas I saw Ulysses. He came in As he went homeward, and with much ado T'Amphisus. For by winds he forc'd had been This place, though no good Port, to put into. Then streight went up, Idomencus to see, With whom he had acquaintance, as he said. 'Twas ten days after that, or more, that he For Troy with th'other Greeks his Anchors wai'd. I entertain'd him kindly with my own. Gave him a handsome Present too, and then I made him to be feasted by the Town Upon the Publike Charge himself and men. Twelve days the wind continued at North, Which kept the Fleet perforce within the Bay, On the thirteenth th'wind changed, and came South, And then they set up Sail and steer'd for Troy.

'Twas so like truth, she wept. As when the Sun Dissolving is the Snow upon a Hill, Innumerable streams of water run, And the low Rivers of the Valley fill: So wept she for her Husband sitting by; Who griev'd and piti'd her, but never wept; As hard as horn or iron was his eye, And by design himself from tears he kept. After with weeping she was satisfi'd, Stranger, said she, I'll ask you somewhat now By which most certainly it will be tri'd, If you my Husband as you say did know Or entertain'd him, and his company. What kind of person was he, and how clad? How serv'd? To this Ulysses made reply. Though twenty year ago it be, and bad My Memory; yet what I can recal, I will relate. He wore a Purple Vest Unshorn, and lin'd. Before embroider'd all. Two clasps of Gold. And in it was exprest. A Hound that did between his foreseet hold A Fawn that sprall'd and labour'd to get free. Which was so lively done, and all in Gold Performed was, that wonder 'twas to see. His Coat (I markt) so soft it was and fine As is the fold of a dry Onion, And as the Sun, did gloriously shine, And women gaz'd upon him many a one, Such were his Garments, but I know not whence He had them. You know better that than I; VVhether he so appareli'd went from hence, Presented by some of his Company, Or given to him somewhere by some Guest. For he was much beloved far and near, And of th'Achaeans all esteem'd the best, Amongst the Greeks he hardly had his Peer. And I him gave a Purple double Vest, A Sword and Coat edged with fringes trim, And brought him to his Ship. Amongst the rest A Herald was; and I'll describe you him.

Round shoulder'd was he, curled was his hair, Swarthy his face, Eurybates his name. Ulysses to him much respect did bear, Because their thoughts for most part were the same. When he had done, she could no longer hold, But wept again, and sorer than before; For she found true the tokens he had told. But when this show'r of tears was passed o're, Stranger (said she) I piti'd you before; Now as a friend you shall respected be. 'Twas I gave him th'Apparel he then wore And the Gold Buckles to remember me. But I shall never see him more at home; In an unlucky hour he cross'd the Main To that accursed Town of Ilium. Then thus Ulysses answer'd her again: O Noble Wife of Laertiades, Blemish no more those your fair eyes with tears, For your Ulysses. Set your heart at ease. Not that your sorrow as a fault appears. What VVoman that her Husband of her youth, And to whom Children she had born had lost, Could choose but grieve and weep, although in truth, She could not of his Vertue greatly boast? But that you would give ear to what I say. I say Ulysses is not far from home; He's in Thesprotia hence a little way Alive, enrich'd with Presents he is come. His ship and men all perishe in the Main, Then when he left the Isle Thrinacie, Because Sol's Sacred Kine his men had slain, Hurled they were by Jove into the Sea. Ulysses only scap'd; for sitting fast Upon the torn-off Rudder by the waves, After much labour came to land at last. In th'Isle Phaeacia. There his life he saves. Much honour there and precious gifts he got. They realy were to have convey'd him home, Safely to Ithaca, but he would not; Else long ago he might have hither come:

But he thought best to travel longer yet, And pick up Presents which way ere he went, Before his going home much wealth to get. For at designing he was excellent. Phidoa himself King of Thesprotia Swore to me this; and that both Ship and Men Were ready to convey him t'Ithaca, His Countrey. But he could not stay till then. For now a Vessel ready to set forth Stood for Dulichrum. But he shew'd me all Ulysses Treasure, which might serve, for worth. Ten ages to maintain a man withal. But he (he said) was gone o're to the Main. There at Dodona with Jove's Oak t'advise How to return to Ithaca again; As he was openly, or in disguise. So then he's safe; and soon he will be here. He cannot from his house be long away. And which is more, I will not doubt to swear, And witness call the Gods to what I say. Hear Jove of Gods the b••st, and high'st; and thou The Guardian of the house that we are in. Ulysses shall come to this place you know, E're this month end, or when the next comes in. Penelope then answer'd: Stranger, Oh That this would so fall out, you then should see Such friendship from me, and such gifts also, That men should bless, and say you happy be. But, Maids, go wash his Feet, and make his Bed, Lay on warm Rugs, and handsom Covering, His Limbs to cherish till the day be spread. Then wash and 'noint him that my Son may bring And set him in the Hall at Dinner by him. For he that wrongs him shall not be allow'd To come into my house another time. How angry at it e're he be, and proud. Stranger, by this I mean to let you see I better know to entertain my Guest Than many women do, though poor he be, Far from his home, and in vile Garments dress.

To this Ulysses answer'd her again, O Noble Wife of Laertiades, Since I left Crete, on Ship board I have lain. Soft and fine bedding give me little ease. Many a night have I past without sleep, And often slept have on a homely Couch, The custome I have so long kept I'll keep. Nor shall your Maidens my feet wash or touch Such as wait on you, but if there be any Old woman here that hath endured much, As I have done, and years have lived many, I am content my feet be wash'd by such. Then said Ponelope, Ne're man came here Within my house from forein Countrey yet So prudent as you are, whose answers were To every thing so wise and so discreet. There is a woman such as you desire, That nurst and brought up that afflicted man, Though she be very weak, she'll make a fire, And wash your feet, but nothing else do can. Rise Euryclea, wash the feet of one That's like your Lord. Such feet & hands were his, Woe makes men old as well as years that run. So said Penelope. And th'old woman rise; And weeping held her hand before her eyes. O my dear Child, O Jupiter unkind! Who more devout, who burnt to him more thighs, Or fatter, or doth lesser favour find? He prai'd to live so long that he might see Painless, the education of his Child Telemachus, but granted 'twill not be. He now perhaps is where he is revil'd And mockt by women in some great mans Hall, As thou, O Stranger, hast been scorned here, And wilt not suffer any of them all Either thy feet to wash or to come near. I'll wash your feet as I am bidden by Penelope, and for your own sake too. It is not her command alone. There lie Thoughts on my heart that urge me thereunto!

Poor Passengers come hither very many, But one so like Ulysses never came. For Person, Voice, and Feet I ne'er saw any Come to this house that had so near the same. Ulysses answer'd, Woman, so they say All that have seen us both. It may be so. She with her Kettle bright then went her way For water wherewithal her work to do. Cold water she brings in, and pours on't hot. Ulysses sate by th'fire, but turn'd that thigh That had the scar to th'dark, that she might not Find it and force him t'appear openly. She was not long about him when she sp••d The Scar a Bore had made above his knee When he was hunting on Parnassus side, At's Grandsires in his Uncles Company. His Grandsire was Autolycus, that was His Mothers Father nam'd Anticlia. He in Hermetique Arts did most surpass, And to his Daughter came to Ithaca, That newly of a Son was brought to bed. Euryclea laid the Child upon his knee. Autolycus, you are to give, she said, The Name. How shall it named be? Then said Autolycus, Since I of many Both men and women have incur'd the blame, A fitter name I cannot think on any. Therefore I say, Ulysses be his name. And when he's grown a man sead him to me, To Mount Parnassus, whither if he come, He shall of what I have partaker be, And from me go not ill-contented home. And this the cause was that he thither went. Autolycus and's Sons there take Ulysses By th'hand, expressing very great content. Antithea his Grannam his head kisses And both his eyes. Autolycus appoints His Sons to have the Supper very good. A Bullock fat they kill, stay, cut in joynts, Roast, and in Messes distribute the food.

And so they feasted till the day was done. And when 'twas dark parted and went to sleep. But when Aurora had proclaim'd the Sun Which ready was above the Hill to peep, Then to Parnassus up the Hunters go, The Hounds before went searching out the scent. Autolycus his Sons were there also. Ulysses with them; next the Dogs he went. And in his hand shook a longshaded Spear. The Dogs drew tow'rd a VVood. So close it was That neither rain nor wind e're entred there, Nor yet the beams o'th' Sun could through it pass. And heaps of wither'd leaves there lay therein. VVithin this Thicket lay a mighty Bore. Only the noise of Hounds and Men came in, VVhen they were very near, and not before. The Bore rusht out, and fire was in his eye, Brisled his neck. Ulysses ready was. The Bore first wounded had Ulysses thigh, The Spear did through the Boars right shoulder pass. Slain was the Bore. And of Ulysses wound His Unkles took the care, and skilfully They caus'd it to be closed up and bound, And with a Charm the blood stope presently. His wound soon cured very glad they were, And him with many Gifts send glad away. At home they ask, and he relateth there The Story of the hunting of that day. Euryclea on the wound had laid her hand, And well assured was 'twas none but he. VVhich made the water in her eyes to stand. And now her joy and grief one passion be. Her Speech stuck in her Throat; her hand lets fall Her Masters foot. That down the Kettle threw. The water runneth out about the Hall; And knowing now what she but thought was true, You are Ulysses, said she, O my dear. And tow'rd Penelope she lookt aside, As if she meant to say, Your Husband's here. But Pallas that did mean the truth to hide

Still made the Queen to look another way. And he with one hand stopt the Nurses breath, With th'other held her fast to make her stay. Why Nurse, said he, mean you to be my death? Since at your breast I nourished have been; And none but you knows me in this disguise; These twenty years I here was never seen. Let none else know it in the house. Be wise. For this I tell you, and will make it true, That of the women some I mean to slay. When by my hand the Gods the Woo'rs subdue, If you bewray me, you shall fare as they. Then said Euryclea, What needeth this? You know my heart can hold like stone or brass. And who is honest, who dishonest is I'll tell you, if your purpose come to pass. No Nurse, then said Ulysses, tell not me. You need not. I shall know them ev'ry one. Permit all to the Gods, and silent be. For they best know what best is to be done. Then out she went more water to fetch in, The first being spilt. He washt and 'nointed was. And covered the place where th'wound had been. And nearer to the fire his Chair he draws. Then to them came Penelope, and said, Stranger, I'll ask you but a little more. 'Tis almost bed-time, and when we are laid, Our grief in gentle sleep is passed o're. But all the day my tears are my delight. Or of my womens work the care I take. And after I am gone to bed at night A thousand dismal thoughts keep me awake. As Philomela sitting in a tree Mourns with a lamentable voice and shrill For Itylus, and turneth restlesly, Whom Zethus Son did by misfortune kill: Just so my mind divided is in twain: Whether to keep my Servants with my Son, And my dear Husbands bed, and here remain, Or marry one o'th' Suiters, and be gone.

To marry and he gone I could not yet, My Son too young was yet to rule th'estate. And now grown up, it makes him vex and fret To see them daily feast within his Gate. I'll tell you now a dream; expound it you. I've twenty Geese feeding i'th' yard without. A mighty Eagle from the Hills down flew, And brake their necks; dead they lay all about. The Eagle straightway mounted out of sight. I dreaming wept. To see them at the trough, Feeding on steeped Wheat, I took delight. And to bemoan me Ladies came enough. And then methought the Eagle came again, And on a Beam which through the wall did start He sat, and said in humane Language plain, Child of Icarius trouble not your heart. The thing you see is real, not a dream. The Geese the Wooers, I the Eagle was, And now return'd and sitting on the Beam, I am your Husband, and will bring to pass The death of all your Suiters. Then wak'd I, And went into the Court my Geese to see, And found them all there feeding heartily, Unhurt, and well as they were wont to be. Woman, then said Ulysses, no man can Expound this Dream but as himself has done, That says and does. Ulysses is the man. The Suiters will be killed every one. Then said Penelope, Dreams are without Such order as to make a Judgment by; And at two Gates, men say, they issue out, The one of Horn, th'other of Ivory. Those that pass through the Horn, to men of skill, Never say any thing but what is sooth; But find a word of truth you never will In those that come through th'Elephantine tooth. But I much fear that my Dream came this way. For I have promised to quit this place, And come already is th'unlucky day That must determine who shall gain my grace.

Twelve Axes here Ulysses set a row Like twelve Boats laid along upon their sides, And at a distance standing with his Bowe, Through ev'ry one of them his Arrow glides, And this shall to my Suiters be the Prize. He that most easily shall bend the Bowe, And through the Axes all his Arrow flies, Leaving this blessed house with him I'll go. Then said Ulysses, Let the Suiters try If they can bend the Bowe, and thorow shoot Through th'Axes if they can, for sure am I, Ulysses will be here before they do't. Stranger, said she, whilst you discourse, my eyes To sleep will never be enclin'd. But since The force of Nature on all Mortals lies, I up into my Chamber will go hence, There is my Bed, washt nightly with my tears Since first Ulysses went to cursed Troy, Wailing my Husbands absence wak'd with fears; And yours in what part of the house you'll say. This said, unto her Chamber up she went. And with her all her Maids. And there she lies, And for her Husband did afres•• lament, Till Pallas threw a sweet sleep on her eyes.

LIB. XX.

ULysses in the Court lay out adoors On a Cow hide; and on him skins of sheep New kill'd and sacrificed by the VVoo'rs. There lay he, but he could not fall asleep. Eurynome a Rug laid on him too. Out came the Maids that wont were to commit

With the proud Wooers gigling and laughing so, And pleasing one another with their Wit, As made Ulysses in his mind to cast Whether to start up quick and kill them all, Or let them now go on and take their last Farewel of those they had to do withal. As when a Bitch stands by her Whelps and spies A Stranger coming near will bark and grin; So at this sight of their debaucheries Ulysses heart provoked barkt within. Hold heart, said he, when Cyclops eat my men, Thou didst endure till counsel set thee free; The danger now is less. Hold out agen. And so it did, though he lay restlesly. As one that has raw flesh upon the fire, And hungry is, is ever turning it; So turneth he himself with great desire 'Gainst th'Wooers to devise some mischief fit. Then Pallas came and standing at his head In Womans shape, O wretched man, said she, What makes you toss and turn so in your bed? The house is yours, your Wife and Son here be. Then said Ulysses, I was casting how I might alone these Suiters insolent, That always here are many, overthrow; And if I kill them, then again invent How to escape and save my self by flight. To this the Goddess an'wered, and said, Another man would trust a meaner wight, Though mortal, and rely upon his aid. But I a God immortal am, and say, Though fifty bands of men should us oppose, You should their Herds of Cattle drive away. Enjoy securely therefore your repose, A torment 'tis to watch all night, to one That is already drencht in misery. Sleep then. This said, sweet sleep she threw upon His eyes, and from him mounted to the Sky. And now Penelope awak'd and sat On her bed weeping. Having wept her fill,

She to Diana pray'd, and said, O that You would now shoot your Arrow and me kill, Or that some great wind me away might bear, And o're a Rock throw me into the Main, Ne'r to be heard of, or as th' Daughters were Of Pandareus, whose Parents both were slain By th' Gods. But Venus th' Orphans nourished With Butter, and with Honey, and with Wine. Juno with form and wit them furnished. Diana gave them stature. Artifice Divine Pallas them taught. Then Venus went to Jove To get them Husbands; for best knoweth he The Issue of Conjunctions in Love, Whether for better or for worse they be, While Venus absent was on that affair, By Harpies foul away they carried be. And giv'n for slaves to th'Furies in the Air. Oh that the Gods would so dispose of me; Or else Diana send me under ground, That I may with Ulysses be, and not To please another meaner man be bound. Grief all day long is but a woful Lot, And Sleep is some amends. But unto me It evil Dreams along with it doth bring. This night my Husband seem'd i'th' hed to be; No Dream I thought it, but a real thing. This said, the Morning fringed had the Sky. Ulysses musing lay upon his bed With closed eyes, and thought she certainly Knew who he was, and stood at his beds head. Then rose he, and his sheep-skins bare away, And Rug into the house; but the Cow-hide He carri'd out, and then to Jove did pray: Hear Jupiter, with lifted hands he cri'd. O Jove and Gods, if by ••our VVill Divine, Tost both at Sea and Land, Thither came; By fatal Word within, without by Signe, To me now presently confirm the same. Jove heard his Pray's, and straight it thundered. This made Ulysses glad. Then spake a Maid

The fatal word. Twelve Maids to furnish bread Were to grind wheat continually employ'd. Eleven their work had done and went to Bed. The weakest still staid grinding, and thus praid: Jove who without a Cloud hast thundered, Grant me poor Maid my wish, and then she said, O Jove, that Father art of Gods and Men, Let never more these wicked Suiters tast Meat in this house, nor ever come agen That pain me thus. This Supper be their last. Ulysses with this word, and with the Thunder Well pleased was, and thought assuredly With Pallas help the Suiters to bring under, And many though they were to make them die. Then th'other Maids came in and made a fire Within the Hall. And then too from his Bed Telemachus rose, puts on his attire, And Sword and Shoes. His Spear with brazen head He took into his hand, and stood i'th' door, And to the Nurse Euryclea he spake: What meat, what lodging had this Stranger poor? Or was there none that care of him did take? My Mothers nature (wise as she is) is such Highly to honour men of less desert; But for this Stranger perhaps cares not much. Then said Euryclea, She has done her part; Wine he has had as much as he thought fit. She askt him if he had a mind to eat. He answer'd, that he had no appetite To bread at present, nor to any meat. She bad her Maids set up a standing Bed. But he, as one in love with misery, Would none of that, nor bed, nor coverled, But on the ground resolved was to lie, And make his Scrip the Bolster for his head, And for a Bed to take a raw Cow-hide, And Sheepskins with the wool for Coverled Without the door; and we the Rug appli'd. This said, Telemachus with Spear in hand To Council goes, and his Dogs follow'd him.

Then Euryclea gives the Maids command The rooms of th'House to dress up und make trim. Rise Maids, said she, sprinkle and sweep the Hall, Lay Cushions on the Chairs, with Sponges make The Tables clean, the Temp'rer and Cups all; And see of water that there be no lack. Go to the Spring, and fetch fair water thence Quickly. You know to day is Holiday. The Suiters will not now be long from hence. So said the Nurse. The women her obey. For water to the fountain went twice ten, The rest did diligently work within. The Maids that went for water came agen; And the proud Woo'rs by that time were come in. And then came in the Master of the Swine Eumaeus, three Swine frankt and fat he brought, There to be ready 'gainst the Suiters dine. In all his Swine-sties better there were not. And he unto Ulysses kindly spake: Stranger how fare you 'mongst the Wooers here? Do they more pity now upon you take Than formerly; or still deride you there? O, said Ulysses, that the Gods would give These men what to their insolence is due, Who in a house not theirs so lewdly live, As if no modesty at all they knew. Then came Melanthus from a place hard by. He had the charge o'th' Goats, & brought the best. And spake unto Ulysses spightfully: Art thou here still to beg, and to molest The Company? D'ye mean before you go To taste my fingers? Is there no good chear In other places 'mongst the Greeks, and so You mean to dwell continually here? Then came a third that charge had of the Kine, Philoetius by name, with him he brought A Heifer and more Goats, on which to dine, Over the water, in the Ferry-boat Philoetius askt Eumaeus in his ear, Who's this, that's new come hither, & from whence,

What Countryman, and what his Parents were? For, for his person he may be a Prince. God can make Princes go from Land to Land And beg, when he will give them misery. This said, he took Ulysses by the hand, And spake unto him kind and lovingly: Father, I wish you as much happiness As ever you enjoy'd before. But now, I see you are in very great distress. O Jove! What God so cruel is as thou? Though born thou wert, yet pitiest not to see The torments of Mankind. To think upon Ulysses makes me weep. It may be he Thus begs somewhere, with such apparel on, Or else he's dead. O then I am undone. He set me o're his Herds when but a Boy; But infinite they're grown since he is gone, Or man would quickly all Cow kind destroy. But mine the Suiters force me to bring in For them to eat, and ne're regard his Son. The Goods to share already they begin Of th'owner, that so long now has been gone. And I devising was what I should do, To take my Cattle with me and be gone, And one or other Prince to give them to. But that I thought would be unjustly done, For they Telemachus his Cattle were. Again, I thought it labour very so To stay and keep my Masters Cattle here For others in his absence to devour. So here abide I, and my self I flatter With hope to see Ulysses one day come Back to his house, and the proud Suiters scatter. Thus said the Master of the Kine. To whom Ulysses said, Honest you seem and wise. I therefore will a secret to you swear, By Jove on high you shall see with your eyes Ulysses (if you wish to see him) here, And all these domineering Suiters slay. Then, O, said he, that Jove would have it so.

For I should let you see in such a stay Quickly how much these hands of mine can do. Eumaeus also did like Prayer make To see U••ysses there. So ended they. While they discours'd, the Suiters counsel take How they might make Telemachu•• away. Then o're their heads an Eagle flew on high Sinister, with a fearful Dove in'•• foot. Then said Amphinomus, Let's lay this by, And think of Supper, for we cannot do't. The Suiters all approv'd of what he said, And in they went, and there or Bench and Seat Within Ulysses house their Coats they laid, And set themselves to kill and dress their meat. Then from the Herd they sacrific'd a Cow, And many well-grown Sheep, and Goats well fed, And many a very fat and pamper'd Sow; Th'entrails they rosted and distributed. Eumaeus gave out Cups, Philoetius Bread, M. lanthus from the Temp'rer fill'd out Wine. The Suiters on the meat before them fed With Stomachs good, and drank the blood o'th' Vine. Telemachus Ulysses in the Hall Hard by the threshold sets, and there he sat On an ill-favour'd stool at Table small, And gave him his just share of th'entrails fat, And for him fill'd a great gold Cup with Wine. Sit here, said he, and fare like other men. Fea•• neither blows nor scoffs. The house is mine, Ulysses is the owner of it. When He first possessed it, he gave it me. And you my Mothers Suiters, mock no more, But keep the peace as long as here you be; For else perhaps arise may trouble sore. At first the Suiters knew not how to take Telemachus his words, and silent were, Admiring that such threatning words he spake, So many men provoking without fear. But by and by Antinous said thus, Since Jove appeared has in his defence,

Let's put these threats up of Telemachus. Else we should quickly spoil his eloquence. So said Antinous. But Telemachus Car'd not at all for any thing he said. When peace within doors was concluded thus, In other Rites o'th' Feast they were imploy'd. The Hecatomb they bear throughout the Town Into Apollo's shady Grove divine. The upper-joynts in Messes they divide; So fill'd their Tables and sat down to dine. The portion of Ulysses was no less Than other Suiters had, nor more. For why Telemachus had order'd every Mess Should equal be, and men serv'd equally. Amongst the Suiters was a very Knave, Ctesippus was his Name, a rich mans Son; And therefore hop'd Penelope to have. This man to th'Wooers made a motion. Hear me you Suiters of Penelope: This Stranger here is equal made to us, And therefore reason 'tis that also we Should love the Strangers of Telemachus. Lo, here's a Gift I'll give him, that he may Bestow it, i••'t please him, on him or her That empts the Chamber-pots, or giv't away To any of Uly••••es Bond men here. With tha•• he hurled at Ulysses head A Cows-foot, but he turn'd his head the while, And from the stroke himself delivered. Then smil'd Ul••sses a Sardanique smile. Telemachus his anter could not hide. 'Tis well, said he, you did not hurt him here. For else, bel eve it you had surely di'd O'th' place, ru•••• through the body with my Spear, And never found a Wife here, but a Grave. Therefore give over this behaviour wild. Of good and bad I now some knowledge have; And do not alwaies take me for a Child. What's past I bear, the havock of my Cattle, My Corn and Wine consumed lavishly.

'Tis hard for one with many t'enter battle. Use me no longer as an Enemy. For fighting to be slain I'd rather chuse, Than see my Guests or Servants harshly us'd, My women, as they pass about the house, To be so basely tug'd, touz'd, and abus'd. This said, a while the Suiters silent were; But not long after, Agelaus spake. Let's not, said he, against a truth so clear Struggle, and what is said in ill part take; Nor harshly use the Stranger any more, Nor any Servant of Telemachus. But yet I have a silly word in store For him, and for his Mother, and for us. Whilst there was hope Ulysses might come home, The Suiters had done best at home to stay, Expecting him, and not have hither come. But since there's none, to's Mother he should say, Take one of them for Husband; which you please, And most shall give you. So shall he enjoy His Fathers means, and eat and drink at ease, And she with her new Husband go her way. To this Telemachus replying says, By Jove, and by my Fathers misery, Who now is lost and dead, or somewhere strays Far off from Ithaca, it is not I That do my Mother keep from marrying Whom she thinks good. I do advise her still To take the man that shall most Treasure bring. But I'll not make her do't against her VVill. So ended he. Then on the Suiters faces Pallas sets up a laughter not their own, Nor to be stopt; their Senses she displaces, Their meat was bloody, & their hearts were down, What i••'t poor men, said Theoclymenus, Your heads and faces are wrapt up in night; You weep and groan; the walls 〈◊〉〈◊〉 beams of th'hous•• To me seem bloody; and left there is no l••ght. The Hall and Porch, methinks are full of Sprights Ready to go to Hell; the Sun has lost

••is place in Heaven, nor are there any lights; And dismal darkness hath the House engrost: ••t this they laught. Then said Eurymachus, This Stranger is not very well, let him ••y those that wait be guided from the House To th'Market-place. For all within is dim 〈◊〉〈◊〉 am, said Theoclymenus, not blind, I can go the Market-place alone. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have both eyes and ears, and feet and mind: With these I can go hence. Guide need I none, ••nd go I will. For evil is hard by, Which none of you the Suiters shall escape That have so much abus'd the Family: This said, he parts, and left the Woo'rs to gape On one another, and with insipid jests To vex Telemachus, and themselves please, And all upon Telemachus his Guests. The words that one of them then said were these; ••••lemachus, of all men you're least able To make an Entertainment or a Feast. ••or first you for this Beggar set a Table, Who eats and drinks as stoutly as the best, But can no work do, nor has any force; A very burthen to the earth. And this A Prophet would be, and loves to discourse Of Ill to come. My counsel therefore is That you would put these Strangers both aboard Some ship, and send them into Sicily. They that way may some profit you afford. Thus said the VVoor's, but little cared he, But silently the signe expecting stood His Father should have giv'n of falling on. Penelope mean while sat where she could Hear plainly what was said by every one. And now the Suiters merry Supper made, And laughing sat, and fed on much good chear: But After-Supper worse none ever had. For of the wrong themselves beginners were:

LIB. XXI.

PEnel••pe the Suiters strength to try Who soon'st could bend her Noble Husbands Bowe, And through the Axes make his Arrow fly, And whom she was to marry, now to know, To a high Chamber up the stairs she went, Wherein Ulysses precious goods did stand. There hu••g upon a Pin the Bowe unbent; The well made Key she carri'd in her hand, This Bowe was given him by Iphitus At Spar••••. But Ulysses with him met First at Messena. For it sell out thus. Ulysses then was the••e about a debt. Messena-men their ships had put ashore At Ithara, and thence had ta'ne a P••ty Of sheep, which was in number fifteen ••core, And with the Shepherds carri••d them away. This was the cause Ulysses thither went. 'Twas a long way, and he scarce past a Boy. But by his Father and the Lords was sent T'ask reparation for this annoy. But Iph••••us twelve Ma••es had lost. Each one A young ••ule had that follow'd her••••o ehind (Which of his death were the occasion) And at M••ssena these he thought to find. Bu•• as he was returning back again, And came unto the house of Hercu••es, That mighty man first did him entertain, And a••ter, k••lling him his Mares did seize. This was the man that to Ulysses gave The Bewe. And from him had a Sword and Spear.

But Hercules had sent him to his Grave, Erc they had tasted one anothers chear. This Bowe he carried not to Ilium, Nor ever had made use of it in fray. But often had it in his hand at home. For only as a Monument it lay. Penelop: now standing at the doo••, Quickly the Bolt strook back with her great Key. The Valves fly open suddenly and roar; As when a great Bull roars, so roared they. Penelope w••nt in, and up she stept Upon a board where on were standing Chests, In which ••mongst odours sweet the clothes were kept, The costly Garments, Robes, and Coats and Vests. Thence to the Bowe she reacht, and from the ••in She took it as it hung the••e in the Case. And fitting down, her lap she laid it in. Aloud she wep••, and tears ran down apace. And when she long enough had weeping been, The Bowe she did unto the Suiters bear, And Quiver with it full of Arrows keen. The Axes by her women carri'd were. Then with her Scarf she shaded both her cheeks, Having a Waiting woman on each hand. Unto her Gallant Suiters thus she speaks: Hear me you lusty Suiters that here stand Using this House not yours, continually To eat and drink in at anothers cost; And for it do pretend no reason why, But as contenders who shall love me most. Lo here; to him I make my self a prize, Who this good Bowe with greatest ease shall bend, And whose aim'd Arrow through these Axes fl••es, With him from this most blessed house I'll wend. This said, Eumaeus th'Axes and the Bowe By her command unto the Suiters be••rs; And as he went, his eyes for grief o'reflow. Nor could Philoetius abstain from tears. For which Antinous gave them th••s reproof: You foolish Clowns, what alls you to shed tears?

Has she not for her Husband grief enough? That you must adde your sorrow unto hers. Sit silently, eat and drink quietly. Or if you needs must weep, go weep without. Leave the Bowe here, the Suiters strength to try, And that it may be carried round about. Not that I think there's any man among Us all can bend it as Ulysses could. (For I remember him though I were young) So said he, though he thought he bend it should, And also shoot through th'Axes every one, Though he were only the first to be shot. For he the other Suiters had set on, And was the first contriver of the Plot. Telamachus then to the Suiters spake, Sure Jove said he, bereav'd me has of sense. My Mother tells me she'll a Husband take, And leaving me depart with him from hence; And I here merry am that should be sad. But be't as 'twill, the Game must now begin, For such a wise as ne're Achaia had, Nor in Mysen' or Argos was e're seen, Nor Pyle, nor Ithaca, nor in Epire. But what need I set forth my Mothers praise? You know't your selves: Therefore I you desire To put off all excuses and delays. And I my self will be the first to try This mighty Bowe, whether I can or no, And through the Axes make the Arrow fly. 'Twill grieve me less to let my Mother go; Since I have strength to bend my Fathers Bowe, VVhy should I doubt of governing his State? And from him presently his Coat did throw And Sword, and then fell to delineate The ground whereon the Axes were to stand. On one long line he set them all upright. The VVoo'rs admir'd the justness of his hand; For why, the like was ne'r done in his sight. Then went he to the Sill to try the Bowe. Thrice he essaid it and was near it still,

And thrice again relenting let it go. Once more had done it. But 'twas not his will. For then his Father checkt him with a wink. Alas, then said Telemachus, must this Be all my strength? Too young I am I think. Come, let one take the Bowe that elder is. This said, the Bowe and Arrow he laid by, And to the Seat went where he sat before. Then said Antinous, The Bowe let's try In order as we sit. Let him therefore Try first, whose Table next the Cupboard is, And so to the right hand up one by one. The other Suiters all approved this. Leiodes was the first; so he begun; His place was low'st. He to the threshold went To try his force. But to his tender hand And feeble arms the Bowe would not relent. Then down he laid it there, and lets it stand; And to the Suiters spake: This Bowe, saies he, I cannot bend, some other tak't in hand. It's like of many Lords the death to be, When by the strongest it comes to be man'd. For better 'tis to die than live and miss The hopes you hither come for ev'ry day. And what is't any of you hope but this, That you Ulysses Consort marry may? But when he shall this Bowe have understood, Let him some other Lady wooe at case Amongst th' Achaeans whom he shall think good, And let Penelope take whom she please. This said, the Bowe and Arrow he set by, And to the Seat went where he sat before, And by Antinous was angerly Assoon as he had spoke, rebuk'd therefore. What say you? That this Bowe the death shall be Of many Lords? Why so? 'Cause you have not The strength to bend it? Others have, you'll see, But you for bending Bowes were not begot. Then to Melantheus he turn'd and said, Let fire be made, and a great Chair set by't,

And let upon it Cushions be laid. And let us have good store of Tallow white T'anoint and warm and supple make the Bowe, And try if we perhaps may bend it then. Fire, Chair and Cushions came, and greace enough, But to no purpose; too weak were the men. Antinous yet and Eurymachus Gave it not over; these two were the best Of all the Suiters that came to the house. No hope at all remained for the rest. Eumaeus and Philaetius then went cut Together; after them Ulysses went, And when they were the Gate and Court without, Himself unto them to discover meant. And fair he spake them: Master of the Kine, And you Eumaeus, Master of the Swine, Shall I keep in, or speak a thought of mine? To speak it out my heart does me encline. What if Ulysses should come suddenly Brought by some God, and stand be ore this rout, On whose side, his or theirs would you then be? What your mind prompts you to speak freely out. Then answer'd him the Master of the Kine, O that the Gods above would have i•• so. You'ld see the vertue of these hands of mine. The Master of the Swine then said so too. When now the hearts of both of them he knew, He spake again and said, 'Tis I am he, That after twenty years return to you; And know you longed have this day to see. Of all my Servants I find only you That wish me here. If therefore it shall please The Gods by me the Suiters to subdue. I'll give you wealth enough to live at ease, And Houses near me, and shall wedded live, And Brothers of Telemachus shall be. And that you may assuredly believe Ulysses speaks it, you a sig e shall see. With that he pull'd hi Rags beside his Thigh, And lets them see the place the Boar had rent.

Then when upon Parnassus Mountain high He with his Unkles Sons a hunting went. And then they fling their arms about Ulysses, And kiss his hand and shoulders, weeping sore; And he again embraced them with kisses, Nor had till Sun-set weeping given o're But that Ulysses hinder'd it. Give o're, said he, Your weeping, lest that some one come out hither, And tell within what here without they see. Go in, but one by one, not all together. First I'll go in, and then come you. Now mark. I'll pray the Suiters I the Bowe may try. If to my motion they refuse to hark, Give it into my hand as you pass by. And you Eumaeus bid the Women shut The House-doors all, nor suffer any one O'th' men without the House his head to put. And though within they hap to hear men grone, That they stir not, but ply their business. The utter-Gate Philoetius lock you fast, That to the House there may be no access. This said, into the Hall again he past, And after him his Servants. Now the Bowe Was in Eurymachus his hand by th'fire. He warm'd and ru••'d, and did what he could do. But for to bend it he was ne're the nigher. At this he vext, and took it heinously, And, O, said he, 'tis not for my own part I troubled am, but for the Company. 'Tis chiefly that, I take so much to heart. Nor is it for a Wife that I complain; For in Achaia Ladies be enough, But that we hope Penelope to gain, Although we cannot bend Ulysses Bowe. Then said Antinous, 'T will not be so. This day unto Apollo sacred is, And not a day for bending of the Bowe, Therefore to lay it by is not amiss. And let the Axes stand still as they do; (For 'tis not like they will be stoln away)

And so go in and offer Wine unto The God. The Bowe may till to morrow stay. And bid Melanthus in the morning bring Goats of the fattest, and whereof the savour May from Apollo of all Archers King, For bending of the Bowe procure us favour. They all agree. Into the house they went. The Officers for hands the water hold; The Waiters fill the Cups, and them present. And when they drunk had each man what he would, Then spake Ulysses to the Suiters thus: Hear me, ye Suiters, what I have to say, Antinous, and you Eurymachus, For to you two 'tis chiefly that I pray. Since you the bending of the Bowe remit To th' Gods to give to whom they please; and they To morrow doubtless will determine it, Let me now of the Bowe make an essay. That I may know whether my strength be spent, And what I could before now cannot do. Whether I still be firm or do relent With hardship, and with want of looking to. These words of his made all the Suiters mad With fear that he indeed would bend the Bowe. Antinous gave him language very bad. Thou wretched Stranger, is it not enough That of our Feast thou hast an equal part, And that of our discourse (and none but thou Stranger and Beggar) made a hearer art? 'Tis wine that makes thee not thy self to know. For wine serves all men so that drink too much. Wine hurt Burytion the Centaur great. His carriage in Perithous house was such Among the Lapithae sitting at meat, That angry with't they were and all arose, And with sharp iron cut off both his ears, And with the same they pared off his nose. A way the cause of his own harm he bears. From that day on, Centaurs and men are foes. Themselves men hurt by wine immoderate.

So if you bend the Bowe, your ears you'll lose. For you'll find here no prating Advocace. But to King Takim forthwith you shall go, And he will of you make a cruel end. Therefore sit still, and let alone the Bowe; Nor with men younger than your self contend. Then said Penelope, I'd have you know, Antinous, that you did very ill To wrong Telemachus his Guest. What though He bend the Bowe, d'ye think I take him will For Husband? I am sure you think not so. Let none of you be sad with fear of that. Then to her said Eurymachus, No, no; That's not the thing that we be troubled at. 'Tis of our Honour that we jealous be. For how will men and women, think you, prate; But that such Suiters wooe Penelope As could not bend Ulysses Bowe, but that A Beggar that past by by chance could bend it? Which unto us will be no little shame. Who (said she) live on others means and spend it, Should not stand much on Honour and on Fame. Besides, this Stranger is well made and tall, And of a great man says he is the Son. Give him the Bowe to try his strength withal. For this I'll promise him, and see it done. If he do bend it, I'll on him bestow Good Cloathing and a handsome Coat and Vest, Shooes to his seet, Dart, Sword with edges two, And send him to such place as he thinks best. Then spake to her Telemachus her Son: Mother, to give the Bowe or to deny't, Is in my pow'r, and hinder me can none In Elis, or Achaia, or here right From giving it unto this Stranger here, If I think fit. But Mother, pray go now Up to your Chamber, and look to your work, And leave to us to dispute of the Bowe. She mused on, and thought his counsel wise; And being in her Chamber sore did wee••p.

For th'absence of her Husband, till he•• eyes By th' Goddess Pallas closed were with sleep. Eumaeus now had brought the Bowe about, And come it was to where Ulysses sar. The Suiters all at once then cried our, Swineherd, Rogue, Lout, what meanest thou by that? If the Gods please to favour our designe, Thou shalt be slain and carried out of sight, And there devoured be by thy own Swine. This put Eumaeus into a great fright Telemachus then roar'd on th'other part, Bear on the Bowe (t'obey all is not best) I'll pelt thee (though that thou my elder art) With stones home to thy Hogsties like a beast. For I the stronger am. O that I were But so much stronger than these Suiters all, I soon of some of them the house should clear. They laught at this, and bated of their gad. Eumaeus then took up the Bowe agen, And gave it to Ulysses in his hand. This done, Euryclea he called then. It is, said he, Telemachus command To lock the doors all; and that if you hear Noise in the house of blows, or groaning men, Let none go forth, but at their work stay there. This said, Euryclea went in agen, And lockt the doors. Philoetius likewi••e Went silently and shut the utter-Ga••e, And with a Ship-rope that lay by, it ties, And coming back sits where before he sate; And lookt upon Ulysses, who to know What work the worms had in his absence made, This way and that way turning was the Bowe. At this the Suiters one t'another said, This Beggar surely has no little skill In Bowes or in Bowe-stealing, or of's own He has one like's, or make one like it will, He doth examine it so up and down. Another said, As he shall bend the Bowe, So let him find, as he is begging, Alms.

So mockt they. When he view'd it had enough, And holden it a while had in his palms, He bent it. As a Fidler does not spend. Very much labour the sheeps gut to strain; So he, Ulysses his strong Bowe to bend Did put himself to very little pain. Then with his lest hand he the string essaid, It sounded like the singing of a Swallow. The Suiters then began to be afraid, And mighty claps of Thunder straightway follow. Jove's Token very welcome was t'Ulysses. Then to the Bowe he set a Shaft, and there Sitting, shot through the Axes, not one misses. The rest of th'Arrows in the Quiver were. Then turning to Telemachus, he said, I have not sham'd you, nor have miss'd one Axe, Nor long a bending of the Bowe I staid. You see then that the Woo'rs me falsly tax. But now 'tis time for After-uppering Fire day be done, and raking such delights, As Cups. Discourse, and pleasant Musique bring; For these of Feasting are the common rites. Then to his Son, with's eye he beckoned. Telemachus that well him understood, With Spear in hand and Helmer on his head, Came unto him, and close by his Chair stood.

LIB. XXII.

ULysses then himself delivereth Of his soul Rags, and leaps up to the Sill With bowe in hand and arrows ript with death, And spake to th'Wooers boasting of his skill,

Suiters, said he, this Match is at an end. Jove speed me now. Another Mark have at, Which none ere shot at yet. Apollo send Me luck to hit. As he was saying that, T'Antinous the Shaft he did address, Who had the Cup in's hand about to drink. Than of his death he thought of nothing less. For one amongst so many who would think, How strong soever, durst do such a thing? The Arrow pierc'd his neck from throat to polt. The wound receiv'd, he turns round staggering; The blood stream'd out; away he threw the bowl; And overturn'd the Table with his fee••; Both bread and meat lay scatter'd in the Hall. The Suiters bustle and in clusters mee••; Of this great man amazed at the fall. Then one of them unto Ulysses said, Stranger, this was ill shot; thou killed hast The greatest man in Ithaca. Thou'st plaid Thy last prize. To the Crows thou shalt be cast. But yet they held their hands; for why, they thought 'Twas done by misadventure, not contriv'd. For proud and foolish they perceived not The fatal hour was to them all arriv'd. Then said Ulysses with a sullen eye, Dogs, dead you thought me, and spent my estate; With you my women you compell'd to lie; And would have wedded, whilst I liv'd, my Mate. No fear you had neither of Gods on high, Nor of revenge from any mortal man; But now a vengeance to you all is nigh. At this they frighted were and looked wan; And each one peept about what way to take To save his own life, if he could, by flight. None but Eurymachus t'Ulysses spake. If you Ulysses be, you say but right. Much harm is done you both in house and field; But this Antinous Author was of't all; He set us on, and here lies justly kill'd. For wedding of your Wise his care was small.

His care was how to make himself here King (Which Jove not suffer'd him to bring to pass;) And to destruction how your Son to bring He chiefly thinking and designing was. And since that he deservedly is slain, Spare your own people; we'll repair what's done. And what is spent we will make up again, And recompence with twenty Cows each one; And Brass and Gold till you be satisfi'd. If not, there's no man can your anger blame. To this Ulysses with a sour look repli'd Your whole estates, and added to the same How much soever you can elsewhere get Too little is to bind me to desist, Until the Suiters shall have paid their debt. Two ways before you lie, take which you list, To fight or fly, if you will death avoid. But fly, I think you cannot. So said he. Eurymachus then to the Suiters said, The man will not lay down his Bowe you see; But since 'tis in his hand, and Arrows by, And stands upon the threshold of the door, His shafts will fly at us continually, And till we all be slain will not give o're: Let's therefore take up Tables for defence Against his shafts, and (Sword in hand) run all Unto the door at once and drive him thence, And people of the Town together call. This said, his Sword with double edge he drew, And thunder'd him with words. But howsoever A deadly shaft first from Ulysses flew That enter'd at his Brest and stuck in's Liver. Down fell his Sword, he turns himself quite round, And throws his blood about him every way; Kicks down the Table, meat and Cup, to th'ground, And with his brow beating the floor he lay; And sprawling made the Seat shake with his feet; And endless darkness lay upon his eye. Then rose Amphinomus and death did meet. He thought from thence to make Ulysses fly.

But by Telemachus prevented was, That slew him with his Spear upon the place. From back to breast the well-thrown Spear did pass; Down with a thump he falls upon his face. Telemachus i'th' body left the Spear. For why, he had good reason to mistrust Amongst so many Swords, if he staid there, He might be killed by some blow or thrust. Then to his Father as he by him stood, To fetch down Arms, said he, 'Twill do no harm, Two Spears, a Buckler, and a Helmet good, And both I hiloetius and E••maeus arm. Run quickly, said Ulysses, while there be Arrows rema••ning, lest they force me shou'd To quit the door. Then quickly up ran he Unto the room wherein the Armour stood. Eight Spears, four Bucklers, and four Helmets good He took, and to his Father came again. And first he arm'd himself, and ready stood. The two good Servants themselves armed then. Ulysses Arrows till they all were gone Kill'd each his man, and one by one they fall. But when they all were spent and left was none, He sets his Bowe to lean against the wall. Over his shoulder he his Buckler cast, And puts his well-made Helmet on his head. The two Spears with his hand he griped fast. And then his posture he considered There was i'th' wall a certain window high, By th' Sill whereof a way lay to the Street, To which he bad Eumaeus have an eye, And near it stand. But one way was to it. Then Agelaus to the Suiters said, Why does not some man to that window haste, And to the people cry aloud for aid, That so this Shooter may have shot his last? Then said Melantheus, No, no, 'tis in vain; The street-door and the Court-gate stand so close, That one good man the place may well maintain Againstho••v many s'ever them oppose.

But well, I'll fetch you Armour to put on, And Weapons I will bring you out of hand. For where they by Ulysses and his Son Were laid, I know the room and where they stand. Then up he went. Twelve Bucklers he brings thence. As many Spears, as many Helmets too. The Suiters then prepar'd for their defence; And now Ulysses knew not what to do. But to Telemachus he turn'd and said, Th'••ll woman sure, or else Melantheus has For th'Woors gotten Arms and us betraid. No, Father, answer'd he, my fault it was. The door I left unlockt, and but put to, Which some body observ'd. Eumaeus now Go lock it fast. Withal consider who, The women or Melantheus serv'd us so. Whilst thus they talk, Melantheus went once more To fetch down Arms; Eumaeus saw him then, And told Ulysses, Him we thought before To be the man, is thither gone agon. Shall I go now and kill him (if so be I can) or bring him hither to you, to endure What you think fit for all his villany? Then said Ulysses, We two will be sure Telemachus and I, to keep these men From going out, and therefore go you two And bind h••s hands and feet together. Then Betwixt his body and his legs put through A Rope, and at his back tie boards. And so Close to a Pillar hoise him up on high Unto the beams of th'house, that he may know His fault, and feel h••s Pain be••ore he die. Then up they went, and stood without the door On each side one. Melantheus was within At the far end, looking for Armour more. And after there he long enough had been, Out with a Helmet in one hand he came, A Buckler in the other, great but torn. Laertes in his youth had bo••n the same, But now withly••ng it was mouldy worn.

As he came out they seiz'd him suddenly, And in again they drag'd him by the hair; And then his hands unto his feet they tie, And up they hoise him as they bidden were. This done, Eumaeus said unto him jeering, In that soft bed, Melantheus, eas••ly You will observe the Mornings first appearing, That for the Woo'rs your Goats may ready be. Then armed both, and locking up the Door, And breathing courage to Ulysses come. So that upon the threshold there were four; But many were the Suiters in the room, Then down unto Ulysses Pallas came In Mentor's shape, to whom Ulysses said, You are my friend, and our age is the same; For old acquaintance let me have your aid. Though thus he said, he thought i•• Pallas still. The Suiters clamor'd. Agelaus spake: Mentor beware, the course you take is ill Against us all Ulysses part to take. For 'tis our purpose when these two are slain Father and Son, that you the next shall be, And of your rashness suffer shall the pain, And with his Substance your own mix will we. Nor shall your Sons, Daughters, or Wife live here. Pallas was angry at these words of his, And chid Ulysses then, and askt him where His courage was. And what, said she, is this The man that bravely fought nine years at Troy, And kill'd in fight so many gallant men, And he whose prudence did the ••own destroy, And whines so at his coming home again? Come hither Milk-sop, saies she, stand by me, And how your old friend Mentor shall requite The kindness you have shewn him, you shall see. Yet presently she would not end the fight. For further yet she would the Courage try Both of Ulysses and Telemachus. And in a Swallows shape she up did fly, And sat upon a black Beam of the House.

Mean while the Suiters by Agelaus, Amphimedon and Demoptolemus, Eurynomus, Pisandrus, Polybus The best of all the Suiters in the House, (For many had been killed with the Bowe) Encourag'd were. Friends, said he, let's be bold, And at them all our good Spears let us throw. So shall we make the man his hands to bold. Mentor with theirs, his fortune will not mix, He and those hopes are gone. Upon the Sill There are but four. Let's throw at once but fix, That if Jove please, we may Ulysses kill. When he is gone, the rest we need not fear. The Suiters all approved this advise. And then they lanced ev'ry man his Spear; But Pallas made it fall out otherwise. For from the Beam she soon blew here and there The flying staves, whereof one hit the door; The two side-posts, and the walls wounded were. When of the Spears the danger was past o're, Then said Ulysses, Now our turn it is To cast our Spears at this unruly rout; That not content with former injuries Do what they can to take our lives to boot. This said, and taking aim, their Spears they threw, Ulysses killed Demoptolemus. Telemachus Eury ades then slew. Eumaeus with his Spear kill'd Elatus. Pisandrus by Philoetius was slain. The Suiters then to the rooms end retreat, And to the four gave time to take again The Spears that in the wounds were sticking yet. Again they lanced ev'ry man his Spear. The Swallow on the Beam still puts them by; And by the door, walls, posts receiv'd they were. Telemachus and Eumaeus only Had little scratches; one upon the Wrist. Eumaeus on the Shoulder. But the skin Scarce broken was. And both the other mist. And then the four amongst the throng threw in

Their Spears again. And then Ulysses slew Eurydamas. And by Telemachus Was slain Amphimedon. Eumaeus threw, And killed Polybus. Philoetius Then smot C••esippus and through ••ier••'d his br••ft, And over him insul••ing thus he said. Bold P••ae••or that in love art with ••hy jest, And to say any thing art not afraid, For the Cows-foot t'Ulysses thrown take that, Ulysses kill'd too Dama••••rides. Telemachus Ieiocrates laid flat With Spear in hand. When they had killed these, Pallas aloft he••d forth her frightful shield. And then as Ca••tle stung with a Gad fly, In heat of Summer run about the field, So round about the Hall the Suiters flie. As when the Vultures stoop down from the Hill Upon the Fowl; these couch close to the plain, Threat••ed with heavy Clouds, they slay and kill, These cannot fly away, nor turn again; So they upon the Suiters fiercely ••all, And winding with them as they shift their ground, They killing went. All gore-blood was the Hall, And made with thumps & groans a dismal found. L••iodes then kneel'd at Ulysses feet To beg his life. I came, said he, as Priest, And told them their behaviour was unmeet, And always give them counsel to desist. But nothing that I said would they obey, And of their own destruction Authors are. There's not a woman in the house can say I did amiss. Must I like th••se men fare? To this Ulysses with a sour look said, Did you come with the Suiters as their Priest? Then surely for them you have also prai'd, That of my coming home I should have mist, That with these men you daily might here board Your se••f, your wife, and children. Therefore die. With that he took up Agelaus Sword, Which when he di'd fell from him and lay by.

And withit at a stroke cut off his head. But Phemius the Minstrel scaped free. For thither he came not for meat or bread; The Suiters forc'd him of necessity. He had his Fiddle in his hand, and stood Within the door, and studi'd what to do, Whether unto Ulysses go he shou'd, Or out a door unto the Altar go I••h Court, whereon with many a fat beast Ulysses oft devoutly had serv'd Jove. And having paus'd, at last he thought it best To go t'ulysses and his mercy prove. Then down he laid his Fiddle on the floor, Between the Temp'rer and a studded Chair. Then went and fell upon his knees before Ulysses, and thus to him made his prayer. Save me Ulysses, and consider that If you me slay, it after you will grieve. I am a Singer, but was never taught. For Song to me the Gods did freely give. I sing to Gods and men, and have the skill To sing to you as to a God. Therefore Of cutting off my head lay by the will. B••sides, Telemachus can tell you more; I was not hither drawn with smell of roast. Eut many men and strong brought me by force. Telemachus that knew this was no boast, Cri'd out. Hold Father, 'tis not our best course To slay the innocent; and I would ain Save Medon too, that lov'd me from a Boy, And took care of me, if he be not slain By coming in your or your Servants way. Under a S••at Medon himself had laid, And wrapt himself up in a raw Cow-hide, And hearing what Telemachus had said, Skipt nimbly out, his Cow skin cast aside, And falling at Telemachus his knee He to him said, O Friend, loe here I stand; Forbear I pray, and to your Father be A means that also he may hold his hand.

For whilst his anger 'gainst the Suitets staid, That wasted have his goods, and him despis'd, Killing each way about him, I'm afraid He might perhaps kill me too unadvis'd. Ulysses hearing answer'd thus agen, Take courage man. There is no danger nigh. And this remember and tell other men, That Justice better thrives than Knavery, Go now into the Court and stay without Both you and Phemius, that I may do The bus'ness in the house I am about. Then out into the Court away they go. And on the Altar of the God they sat Looking about, still fearing to be slain. Ulysses to be sure that none remain Alive, and under Seats or Tables squat, Scarcht well the Hall, and found they all were dead, As Fishes on the shore lie out, and by The heat of Phaethon be murdered, So did the Woo'rs one on another lie. Then to Telemachus Ulysses said, Tell Euryclea I would speak with her. Telemachus his Father straight obey'd, And scraped at the door that she might hear: Nurse (says he) Mother of the Maids come out. My Father to you somewhat has to say. She heard him well, and presently without More words the door she open'd with her Key. And found Ulysses standing 'mongst the dead Besmear'd with blood. As when a Lion has Upon a Cow at pasture newly fed, With goary brest and chaps; so dight he was. Th'old woman there beholding so much blood, And Carcases so many lying dead, At such a mighty work amazed stood; And was about to whoop, but hindered Was by Ulysses. Hold, said he, within Your joy, and let it not appear in vain. To glory over dead men is a sin. These men the Gods, and their own sins have slain.

For neither from above they fear'd the Gods, Nor men respected good or bad beneath, And therefore now have felt the Heav'nly Rods, And brought upon themselves untimely death. But tell me Nurse-how many women be That me dishonour and do wickedness. Fifty, said she, do serve Penelope, And learn to work and wait, no more nor less. Of these there twelve be that are impudent, And care not for me, nor Penelope. Telemachus was young; the Government To him of Maids might not well trusted be. But now I'll to my Ladies Chamber go, Where she's asleep Some God has clos'd her eyes. To tell her you are here. But he said, No; First call those women who do me despise, And have behav'd themselves dishonestly. Euryclea, obeys and and goes her way, And call'd those women; Come away, said she, Telemachus i'th' Hall does for you stay. Mean while Ulysses call'd Telemachus Unto him, and his faithful Servants two, Trusty Eumaeus and Philoetius; Hear me, said he, what I would have you do. Make these lewd women carry hence the dead, The Chairs and Tables in the Hall make clean, And when that bus'ness they have finished, Into the Court make them go forth agen, Into that narrow place 'twixt th'house and hedge, Till they forget the Suiters Venery, Make them of your sharp Swords to feel the edge, And for their stoln unclean delight to die. Then came the women down into the Hall Wailing, and tears abundantly they shed, And presently unto their work they fall. Into the Porch they carry out the dead. Ulysses giving order standeth by. Telemachus then and Philoetius, Also Fumaeus do with shovels ply The Pavement dawb'd with blood, and cleanse 〈◊〉〈◊〉 house,

Scraping together dust and blood; and that The women also carry out adore. But when this bus'ness now an end was at, There rested for them yet one bus'ness more. They brought them thence into the narrow place, From whence there was no hope at all to fly. You, said Telemachus, for the disgrace Done to me and my Mother, must not die An honest death This having said, he stretcht Between two Pillars high a great strong Rope, That with their feet the ground could not be reacht. Hung there, they sprawl'd awhile, but could not drop. Then down they drag'd Melantheus; and his Nose And Ears with cruel sleel from's head they tear; And brake his Arms and Legs with many blows; And to the Dogs to eat they threw his Gear. Their work now done, they washt their hands & feet, And to Ulysses in the Hall they went, Who having found the place not very sweet, For Brimstone call'd to take away the scent. Euryclea, said he, ferch Brimstone hither, And Fire, and also wake Penelope; And bid her Maids come to me all together, But hasten them to come. Then answer'd she, Dear Child, 'tis well said. But first let me go And bring you better Cloaths, a Coat and Vest. These Rags become you not. Then said he, No. Bring me fire first, and after do the rest. Then Fire she brought and Brimstone presently, Wherewith he aired both the Court and Hall, The Nurse then up goes to the Rooms on high To call the Maids. T'Ulysser they came all. They weep and sob, and all embrace Ulysses, And kits his head and shoulders, shake his hand; And he again saluteth them with kisses. Weeping for joy they all about him stand.

LIB. XXIII.

TH'old woman to the upper Rooms ascended, To wake Penelope, and let her know Her Husband was return'd. Her joy amended Much had her pace, and well she ambled now. And standing at her head, Rise Child said she; The Gods at last have granted you your wishes. Come down into the Hall, where you shall see The so long by you wisht-for man Ulysses. The Suiters he has killed ev'ry one, Who needs the Stewards of his house would be, In despight of Telemachus his Son; And live upon his Substance lavishly. To her again Penelope thus spake: The Go••••, Euryclea, sure have made you mad. The Gods can wise men fools, and fools wise make; The Gods have done you hurt, more Wit you had. You do me wrong, that know how little sleep I have enjoyed since he went to Troy. I never so well slept since, but still weep. And now you come and wake me with a toy. Be gone, if't had been any Maid but you I should have sent her not well pleas'd away. But to your age some more respect is due. Go down again into the House you may. Dear Child, said she, I mock not, for 'tis true. Ulysses is i'th' house. That Stranger's he. Telemachus and no man else him knew. And known to others would not let him be, Till they these proud and naughty men had kill'd. Penelope then starting from the bed

Embrac'd the Nurse; her eye; with tears were fill'd. And as yet doubtful still she questioned. Euryclea is all this true you say? Is he indeed come home? Be serious. How could he the proud Suiters all destroy, He being but one, they many in the House? Nor saw, nor askr I, but I heard the groans Of dying men; for up we were all shut Within our doors, and lockt up all at once; And of our lives into a fear were put; Till me your Son Telemachus call'd out To come t'Ulysses. In the Hall he stood. And there in heaps the slain lay him about, That like a Lion stood besmear'd with blood; You would have joy'd to see him. Now they lie I'th' Court all in one heap. But busie he Is airing of the house, a great fire by; And for to call you hither has sent me. But come, that in each other you may joy, For now at last your wishes granted be; Ulysses come; your Son is past a Boy; And their revenge upon the Woo'rs they see. Nurse, answered she, triumph not out of season. For to be glad to see him in the house, You know there none is that have so much reason, As I have and our Son Te••emachus. But 'tis not truth you tell me. What you say Will come at last to nothing else but this, It was some God that did the Suiters slay, Hating the sight of what they did amiss. There never man came to them that can boast He parted from them without injuries. So by their wickedness their lives they lost. Ulysses may have perisht for all this. Euryclea to this again repli'd, Dear Chid, what words are these that from you come? Ulysses stands i'th' Hall at the fires side, And yet you say he never will come home. But well, I'll tell you now a surer signe: When I was washing of his legs and feet,

I saw where th'wound was giv'n him by the Swine; And had then told you had he thought it meet. But with his hand for that cause stopt my breath. Come, I will lay my life on't willingly. If it be false put me to cruel death. To this Penelope did then reply, The purpose of the Gods, wire though you be, You know not, Nurse. But I'll go to my Son, And there upon the place with him I'll see What men are slain, and who the deed has done. Then down she went consulting in her breast, Whether at distance it were best to try, Or else directly go unto the Guest, And there receive and kiss him presently. But when into the Hall she entred was, Where sitting was Ulysses in the light Of a good fire, she went and took a place That was to where he sat just opposite. Ulysses lookt o'th' ground expecting what His Wife would say, but long time she spake not. But gazing on her husband mute she sate, As one that's in a trance, and has no thought: But by and by surveying him she thought 'Twas he. But seeing him so ill arraid, Her mind was chang'd. She thought that he 'twas not. Telemachus his Mother chid, and said, Mother, hard-hearted Mother and unkind, Why sit you at such distance from my Father, And have so little care to know his mind? When many Questions you should ask him rather. Another woman would not keep off so From her own Husband that away had staid Twenty years long, and suffer'd so much woe, But at their meeting somewhat would have said. Son (said she then) I am astonisht so, I cannot speak, nor look him in the face. But whether he Ulysses be or no, I shall be certain in a little space; For we have signs between us of our own, Which we shall soon know one another by,

That to none living but our selves are known. Ulysses to his Son then smilingly Said, Let (Telemachus) your Mother try me, Perhaps she know me better will anon. The cause why now so little she sets by me, Is that I have ill-favour'd Garments on. But now let you and I look well about. Who kills one man, unless great friends he have, Must leave his Kin and Country, and go out. But we have kill'd both many men and brave. Therefore consider what is to be done. Father (said he) let that be your own care. So wise as you are men say there is none. Our hands to do your pleasure ready are. Why then I'll tell you what is best to do. Put on your Coats; and let the women all Into the Hall in their best Garments go; The Minstrel play; and they to dancing fall; That he that stands without, or dwelleth nigh Unto the house, or travelleth that way, When he shall hear such mirth and melody, May think, This surely is the Wedding-day. That so before this slaughter Fame have spread, Depart we may from hence into the field, And 'gainst the people of the Town make head, And take such counsel more as Jove shall yield. When this was said, the Mer•• their Coats put on. The Damsels dress themselves, the Minstrel sung And plaid upon his Fiddle, and each one To dancing sell, with it the Palace rung. And one that heard this as he stood without, Said to another by him, She is Marri'd. Fie, Fie, she could no longer now hold out. So said he, ignorant how things were carri'd. Mean while Ulysses bath'd and oynted it B' Eurynome, and also richly clad With a fair Robe and Coat. And beside this, Taller and greater Pallas made him had. And varnished with black his curled head. As one by Vulcan and Athena taught

Gold upon Silver skilfully had spread; So Pallas on Ulysses beauty wrought. Then from the Bath he like a God came in, And sat him down before his Wife again; And with her to discourse did thus begin. Woman (said he) to speak to you is vain. Above all women hardned is your heart. What woman else that had her Husband seen After twice ten years absence thus apart From him to sit, contented would have been? Make me a Bed, Nurse, what should I do here? Man, said Penelope. Nor mightily Imagnifie nor scorn you. What you were When you went hence, full well remember I. But go, Nurse, make for him the bed that he Himself fram'd, by the Chamber-door without. Thus said she, but to try if that were he, Yet griev'd him to the heart, and made him doubt. Woman, said he, who has remov'd my bed? It cannot be but by a force Divine. With my own hands 'twas wrought and finished, To th'end thereby it might be known for mine. I'th' Court an Olive-tree stood great and tall, Thick as a Pillar. I about it made A Chamber. Of good Stone I made the wall. And cutting off the boughs the roof I laid. And in the wall a good strong door I form. When this was done, I cut up by the root, And smooth'd with Iron Tools a lusty Corm, And setting it upright fixt the bed to't, And pierc'd the wood with wimbles where 'twas meet. And laid on Silver, Gold, and Ivory. A purple-thong unto the door I fit. This is the signe for you to know me by. Whether it still remain I cannot tell, Or ta'ne away and down be cut the Tree. This said, and she the signe remembring well, The tears rowl'd from her eyes. Thus weeping she Acknowledgeth and runneth to Ulysses; About his neck her milk-white arms she lays,

And both his Shoulders and his Head she kisses, And, O Ulysses, be not angry says, The Gods have giv'n you wisdom, but deni'd To satisfie our youth with mutual joy; Take it not ill I have you thus far tri'd; Since horrour hath possest my mind alway Lest some deceitful man (for such there be Too many in the world) should hither come, And flatt'ring bring me into infamy. Helen of Argos would have staid at home And not gone with th'Adulterer of Troy, Had she consider'd that th' Achaean Lords Might chance to come and fetch her thence away Again into her Country with their Swords. This speech inflam'd his love, and wet his eyes. As a man shipwrackt swimming for his life, Rejoyceth when the Land he near him spies; So welcome was Ulysses to his Wife. She hung upon him still, nor had let go Till Morning but for Pallas, who would not Let Phaëton and Lampus, th'Horses two That draw the Morn, be set to th' Chariot. Then said Ulysses to Penelope, O Wife! my troubles ended are not yet; For still there many more remaining be; Long time 'twill be ere to the end I get. Tiresias did tell me this in Hell, When I went thither of his Ghost to know Whether I with my Mates should come home well Or not to Ithaca again, and how. But come, 'tis bed-time, let us satisfie Our selves with sleep. Then said Penelope, Your bed made ready shall be presently. But since you mention'd have the Prophesie, Tell me what sard Tiresias. I know You'll tell it me one time or other, why If you will may you not tell me it now? To this Ulysses did again reply, Because you long to know't, I tell you then, Tiresias advised me to go

With Oar on Shoulder to a place where men Inhabit that the briny Sea not know, Nor ever mingle salt with what they eat, Nor ever saw the ship with crimson face, Nor yet those wings which do the Water beat (Call'd Oars) to make the good ship go apace. Now mark me well. When you shall meet a man, Just at the end of Neptunes utmost bound, Bearing upon his shoulder a Corn-fan, Stick down your lusty Oar upon the ground. There sacrifice to the worlds Admiral For new admittance a Ram, Boar, and Bull. Then home again, and offer unto all The Gods by name a hundred Oxen full. Your death will not ungentle be, for which Age shall prepare you, and your Soul unglew Insensibly. Your People shall be rich Which round about you dwell. All this is true. Then said Penelope, If this be all, Since your old age the Gods will happy make, The sorrow yet to come can be but small. Whilst thus this couple t'one another spake Mean while their bed with cov'rings soft was clad, The Maids return'd i'th'Hall before them stand. Eury••ome a Torch to light them had, And carri'd it before them in her hand. Then parting left them under Marriage-Law. Telemachus and the good Servants two, When they had to the Dancers said Hola, Unto their Beds within the Palace go. Ulysses and Penelope their joy Converted had into a new content; She to Ulysses telleth the annoy She suffer'd from her Suiters impudent; What havock they had made of Cows and Sheep, And many Barrels of her Wine had wasted. And he to her, what hurt o'th' Land and Deep He done and suffer'd had. While his Tale lasted Well pleas'd she was, and had no list to sleep. He told her how the Cicons he had beaten;

How Lote from love of home his men did keep; How Cyclops his Companions had eaten; And in revenge how he had made him blind; How, to convey him home he did obtain Of Aeolus a leather-bag of wind, Which breaking Prison blew him back again. And how in Laestrigonia he lost His good ships all but one, in which he was; Told her the wiles of Circe; what the Ghost In Hell, said to him, of Tiresias, To whom he went his fortune for to know, In a black ship; and with his Mother there D••scoursed; and saw many a one laid low That in the Argive Host had been his Peer; And how he heard the tempting Sireus sing In consort, and scap'd safely by; and how By th'shifting Rocks, Charybdis vomiting, And Scylla's clutches he did safely ••ow; How to Ogygia he came, and how Calypso kept him in a Cave, where she To be his wife did promise to bestow Upon him Youth and Immortality. How to Phaeacia he came, where he Much honour'd was, and thence by Sea did come Enricht by publique liberality With Brass and Gold and costly Vestures home. And at these words sleep seised on his eyes. When Pallas thought Ulysses satisfi'd With bed and sleep, she makes the morning rise, And day from Mortals now no longer hide. Ulysses rose, and speaking to his Wife, We have, said he, both of us had much wo; You for my absence weeping out your life, And I, because the Gods would have it so. But since we now again united be, Look to the goods within. My folds I'll fill Partly with booty from the Enemy, And many also my Friends give me will. Now to my grieved Father I must go, And therefore with your Maids go up again:

For ere the Sun be up, the Town will know That in my House the Suiters all are slain. Do not so much as look out, or enquire. This said, he puts on Arms. To ••••m also His Son and his two men he did require. Then they got up, and there stood armed too. Then open'd they the door and forth they went. Ulysses led the way. Daylight was spread. But Pallas out of Town them safely sent Into the Field, and undiscovered.

LIB. XXIV.

MEan while unto the house came Mercury. A Golden Rod he carri'd in his hand, Wherewith he lays asleep a Mortal eye, And opens it again with the same Wand. And at the bloody-heap he calls away The Suiters Souls. They all about him fly. And as the Rod directeth them the way, They follow all, but screaming fearfully. As in some venerable hollow Cave, Where Bats that are at roost upon a stone, And from the ledge one chance a fall to have, The rest scream out and hold fast one by one; So screaming all the Souls together fly. And first pass by Oceanus his Streams, Then by Sol's Gate, and Rock of Leucady; And then they passed through the Town of Dreams, And in a trice to th'Mead of Asphodel, And saw the Soul there of Peleiades, (For there the Souls of wretched Mortals dwell) And of Patroclus and Nestorides.

The Soul of Ajax Son of Telamon Was also there, who 'mongst those Warriours tall, The goodliest person was, except the Son Of Peleus, who did much excel them all. To these Atrides Soul came from hard by, And theirs whose death had joyned been with his, And by Aegistus hand were made to die. Then to Atrides said Achilles this Atrides, we thought you of all the Host That came to fight against the Town of Troy, Had been by the high Gods beloved most; For in the Army you bore greatest sway. Yet afterwards the first you were to fall. T'had better been Commanding t'have been slain. Then had you had a noble Funeral, And Tomb, whereby your glory might remain. But now you di'd a miserable death. To this Atrides Soul thus answered, Happy were you at Troy to lose your breath With other Argives that there perished Fighting about you in your dusty Bed Stretcht out, your feats of Horsmanship forgot, But fighting we all day continued, And till we gain'd your Body ceased not. Nor had we ceased then, but for the storm. And then we bare your Body to the Fleet, And there the blemishes thereof reform With water fair and warm, and Unguents sweet. The Greeks about you wept, and cut their hair; Your Mother and her Nymphs then come & roar'd, Th' Achaean Army was in such a sear, That they were ready all to run aboard. But Nestor, whose advice most carrant was, Cri'd, Stay you Argives, this ••s not the noise Of armed Foes, but Thetis now doth pass With all her Nymphs; of them this is the voice. Then they all fearless staid. And the Nymphs stood Mourning, and clothed him with Garments meet. The Muses nine in turn with voices good Singing, made all the standers to weep.

And seventeen days both Gods and men we mourn. On the eighteenth we Sheep and Cattle slay. And then in Godlike Cloaths your Body burn With many Unguents sweet that on it lay. Both Foot and Horse many the Pile sustain, And loudly shout, and Vulcan makes an end. Only the Bones and nothing else remain, Which with pure Wine and Unguents sweet we blend. Your Mother sent the Urn, by Vulcan made, But given her by Bacchus, and therein Noble Achilles your white bones we laid, Mixt with Patroclus you delighted in. By yours, the ashes of Antilochus, Whom next Patroclus was to you most dear, We placed in an Urn apart, and thus Over you all one Monument we rear, High to be seen from Sea by them that now, Or shall hereafter sayling be that way. Your Mother also to the Gods did vow T'have noble Prizes for the Lords to play. At Princes Sepultures I oft have seen Propos'd rich Prizes to provoke the strife Of noble minds; but that like these had been, I never any saw in all my life. So after death renown'd your name will be. But what am I the better, to whom Jove Did for my pains a wretched Death decree (Such was the pleasure of the Gods above) B' Aegistus and my own Wives bloody hand? Thus they to one another talkt in Hell. There Mercury came to them with his Band Of Woo'rs that in Ulysses Palace fell. Of these Atrides knew Amp••imedon, (For he in Ithaca had been his Guest) And speaking to him first, he thus begun. Amphimedon what ail'd you and the rest, To come to this dark place so in a throng, The flow'r of Ithaca, of equal years? If purposely a man should seek among Your people all, he should nor find you P••e••s.

Were you by Neptune drowned in the Main, And hither sent by fury of the weather? Or landing to find Booty were you slain? Or fighting for fair women were sent hither? Come tell me freely; I have been your Guest. Know you not I t'your Fathers house did come With Menelaus, Ulysses to request That he would go with us to Ilium? Then said Amphimedon, I know it all, And how we all deprived were of life, I'll tell you true, and manner of our fall. Ulysses absent, we all woo'd his Wife. She none deni'd, nor any married, But casting how of life us to bereave, To set a Loom up came into her head, As if she somewhat did intend to weave. She sets it up, and did begin to weave. Suiters (said she) since dead Ulysses is, Stay yet a little while and give me leave To make an end but of one business. I must for old Laertes make a Cloth Which in his Sepulchre he is to wear. T'offend the Wives of Greece I should be loath. For to accuse me they will not forbear. They'll say I very hasty was to wed, If I go hence and not provide a shroud VVherein Laertes must be be buried. Out of his wealth that might have been allow'd. The Suiters then were all content. And then All day she wove, but ere she went to bed, VVhat she had wov'n she ravell'd out agen. Three years her Suiters she thus frustrated. In the fourth year her women her betrai'd; And in we came while she the VVeb undid. She could the VVedding now no more avoid. The Robe when it was finished and done She washed clean, and it before us laid. As bright it shin'd as either Moon or Sun. And then ill Fortune brought Ulysses home To th'House where dwelt the Master of the Swine.

And thither too Telemachus did come From sandy Pylus safely through the brine. And both together there our death contrive. That done, they both into the City come. Telamachus the first was to arrive. The Master of the Swine brought th'other home. Like an old Beggar with a Staff in's hand, Apparell'd in such miserable gear, That, that was he, we could not understand, Nor no man else, although he elder were. We mock, we rate him, throw things at his head. He patiently endured all his harms, Until by Jupiter encouraged From out the Hall he took away the Arms; And in an upper Chamber lockt them fast. Then craftily he bids his Wife to send To us his mighty Bowe, our strength to taste. This the beginning was of our ill end. For much too weak to bend the Bowe were we. But when it was unto Ulysses brought, Fearing by him lest it should bended be, We all at once cri'd out, Hold, give't him not. Only Telemachus cri'd, Let him try. And then 'twas put into Ulysses hands. Ulysses bent it very easily. Then leapt he to the Sill, and there he stands; And round about he lookt upon us grim; And first of all he shot Antinous, At whom he took his aim, and killed him; And with his Arrows, after, more of us. And one upon another down we fall. 'Twas plain, some present God there gave him aid, For then he follow'd us about the Hall Till all on heaps at last he had us laid. Of Groans and Blows it made a dismal sound. And thus, King Agamemnon, died we. Our Bodies yet there lie upon the ground. Our Friends yet unacquainted with it be. That else would wash our wounds and us lament, Which to the Dead are Ceremonies due.

Then said Atrides, O vertue excel••ent Of your fair Wife. Happy Ulysses you, That with great valour have her repossest. My Wife Tyndareus Daughter was not such. Your Consorts fame will be hereafter drest In noble Songs, and the Sex honour much. But my Wives name shall stand in Ballads vile, And sung in filthy Songs the Sex disgrace. Thus they discoursing were in Hell. Mean while Ulysses cometh to Laertes place. About it many Lodgings were; wherein His necessary Servants all were laid; And there they fed, and sat, and slept. But in The house it self one old Sicelian Maid, That of his person always had the care. Ulysses then, lest Supper they should lack, Said to his two good Servants, For our fare You must again unto the Town go back, And fetch a Swine the fattest in the Sties, Mean while I'll to the Vineyard go and try Whether my Father know can with his eyes, After so long an absence, that 'tis I. This said, his Servants armed homeward hie; And to the Vineyard goes Ulysses then. But Dolius he there could not espy, Nor any of his Sons or of his men. His Sons and Servants all abroad were gone For thorns to mend the hedges of the ground. Laertes in the Vineyard all alone Placing of earth about a Plant he found. On him he had a soul Coat full of patches, And ugly Leather-Boots, those patcht also; But good enough to save his legs from scratches. Gloves of the same against the Briars too. A Goatskin Headpiece he had on to boot. Ulysses when he saw him in this plight Worn our with age and so much sorrow to it, Under a Tree stood weeping our of sight. And then bethought him whether it were best T'embrace and kiss him, and c••rectly ••ay,

I am Ulysses, or first talk in jest, And give him time his person to survey. Resolv'd at last, his Father he goes nigh, Who with his head down, dig'd about a Plant. Old man, said he, your skill is good. For why, Your Garden neither Art nor care does want. Nor Plant, nor Fig, nor Vine, nor Olive-tree, Nor so much as a Leek but prospers here. One thing there wants (I pray not angry be) You look not to your self. Ill Cloaths you wear, And also pale and yellow is your hue, Which cannot be imputed to being aged. 'Tis not because you do no work that you He little sets by that has you engaged. There's nothing in your aspect of a Slave. The look and stature you have of a King, And the appearance of a King would have, If you, what's due to age had ev'ry thing. Whose Servant are you, and who owns the ground? And say if this be Ithaca or no. For this man whom upon the way I found, Is not so wise as certainly to know. I askt him of a friend that I had here Whether alive he were or dead. But he Whether he dead, or living still he were, Unable was at all to answer me. My house a Stranger on a time was at, Which of all Strangers I did love the best; That said he came from Ithaca, and that Laertes was his Fathers name. This Guest I entertain'd as kindly as I could With Viands good, whereof I had good store. And gave him Talents ten of well-wrought Gold, And beside that I gave him these Gifts more: A Pot for temper'd Wine of Silver bright; Twelve Ca pets fai••; twelve Robes; twelve Coats that were All lined through; and twelve more that were light; And four Maid-Servants, both well taught and fair, Such as he from a greater number chose. Then said Laertes, Ithaca this is,

Now held by wicked men. But you will lose Your Presents all, and of requital miss. But had you found my Son Ulysses here, He would have kept of Amity the Law, And well requited both your Gifts and Chear. But say, how long it is since you last saw And entertain'd my Son, if yet ••e be; But he at Sea devoured is by Fish Far hence, or else to Beasts and Fowls is he Somewhere, poor man, at Land become a dish; Neither his Father nor his Mother by, To wind him and to shed tears o're his bed; Nor yet his Wife weeping to close his eye, Which are the honours due unto the Dead. Tell me also your dwelling and your name, Your Parents and your City what they be; And where the good Ship lies in which you came, And what men with you came in company, Or with some Merchants in their ship, and they Departing hence have left you here alone? To this Ulysses answering did say, I'll answer to your Questions each one. My City's Alybas, and of the same Apheidas is the King. His Son am I, And called am Eperitus by name. Far hence at the lands end my ship doth lie. And since Ulysses from me went away, 'Tis now five years, and with good Augury That we should meet again another day, And joy in mutual h••spitality. This said, Laertes overcome with woe, Took up the scalding dust with both his hands, And pour'd the same upon his ••ead of snow, And sobbing thick and weeping there he stands. Ulysses heart up to his nostrils swell'd With pi••y to behold his Fathers woe, And to him leapt; and's arms about him held, And said, The man you weep and mourn for so Am I, come after twenty years again. Give over sobbing now; for (though in haste)

I tell you must, The Suiters I have slain, And made them of their crimes the fruit to taste. Then said Laertes, If indeed you be My Son Ulysses, let me see some signe To know you by for certain. Then said he, Behold the wound received from the Swine On Mount Parnassus, when I thither went T'Autolycus my Mothers Father, to Receive the Gifts he promis'd me. You sent Me thither, and so did my Mother too. I'll tell you too what Trees you gave me when I walking once was with you there. And I Askt you of all the Trees the names (for then 'Twixt Man and Boy I was.) And severally As I the Trees names askt, you told the same. Pear-trees thirteen; Apple-trees half a score; Rankles fifry (to the Vines you gave that name) All of them in their season Berries bore; And forty Fig-trees. Tho'old man knew it all; Embrac'd his Son, and with abundant joy Fainted, and sinking ready was to fall, But that his Sons embraces were his stay. Then coming to himself again he said, Jove Father and you Gods (Gods there are yet.) The Suiters for their evil deeds have paid, But now I fear the Town will on us set, And with themselves make all the City rise In Cephalenia. Then said his Son, Fear not. Of that we'll by and by advise. Eumaeus and Philoetius are gone To get a Supper ready at your house. This said, into the house they come away, And find Eumaeus and Philoetius At work to cut out Meat and Wine allay. Mean while Laertes oyl'd and bathed is, And by his Maid in seemly Garments clad, And Pallas standing by him added this, A larger stature than before he had. As of a God his presence did appear. Ulysses seeing him, admir'd, and said,

Father, you greater now are than you were, Some God has Beauty on your person laid. Then said Laertes, O ye Gods on high, Jove, Pallas, and Apollo, had I been Such as I was at Neritus, when I Stormed the Town, and armed had come in, When you and the proud Suiters were in fight, I had made many of them bend the knee. And you would have rejoyced at the sight. So to his Son Ulysses talked he Supper brought in, they sit; and then came in O'd Dolius, sent for, from his Husbandry, And his Sons weary. Working they had been. The Nurse had bidden them come speedily. They wondered to see Ulysses there. But he to Dolius then gently said, Pray for a while your wondring to forbear. We hungry are, and long have for you staid. Then Dolius embraced him, and said, Since long'd for you are come, and unexpected, And to u•• by the Gods have been convey'd; All hail; and by the Gods be still protected. But tell me if Penelope yet have The news received of your coming home, Or shall we send her word? That labour save (Repli'd Ulysses) for she knows I'm come. This said, he sat him down. H••s Sons also With decent words Ulysses entertain, And ••ay their hands in his. That done they go And by their Father sat them down again. Now Fame divulged had the Suiters fate; And people howling came in ev'ry way. And gather'd were about Ulysses Gate, To fetch the bodies of the dead away. And those that out of Ithaca had liv'd, To Fishermen they gave to carry home. And staying on the place, though sorely griev'd, Amongst themselves they into counsel come. Eupeithes Father of Antinous That first of all slain by Ulysses was

Spake first, and weeping for his Son, said thus. See how much mischief this man done us has. He carried hence our Ships and ablest men; And lost them all, as one that had design'd Our utter ruine. Coming back agen He killed hath those whom he left behind. Come then, let's to him quickly, lest mean while He should pass over the wide Sea, and get Protection at Elis or at Pyle, And we so sh••••n'd as we were never yet. 'Twill be a scorn to our Posterity To let the murder of our Children so Stay unreveng'd, and put up cowardly. For my part, to my Grave I'd rather go. Come quickly then, lest we prevented be. This said, the people for him pity had. Then came in Medon, who had scaped free, And Phemius that scap'd too, and was glad. And Medon to th'Assembly spake, and said, Ulysses of himself could not have done This mighty deed without th'Immortals aid, I saw when present I was looking on, A God stand by that him encouraged, In Mento•••••• shape he plainly did appear; And then about the room the Suiters fled, And fell bef••re Ulysses in their fear. Next him spake Alitherses, who alone Saw Fore and Aft. Hear me, you men, said he. Of this great slaughter I accuse can none But ev'n your selves that gave no ear to me, Nor yet to Mentor. We you counselled The licence of your Children to take down, That spent the Substance, and dishonoured The Wife of him that was of such renown. My counsel therefore to you now is this, Not to proceed, lest on your selves you bring More mischief yet, and of your purpose miss. So said he then, but little profiting. For more than half with alalaes up start, And cry aloud, To Arms, go on, proceed.

But quietly sat still the lesser part, That with Eupeithes Judgment disagreed. When they had clad themselves in glist'ning brass, Without the Town they came to Randezvouze In open field. Eupeithes Leader was, Seeking revenge where he his life shall loose. Then Pallas to her Father came, and said, O Father, King of Kings, what do you mean, The War shall last between them, or be staid? To this her Father answer'd her agen: Child, why d'ye ask me that? 'twas your request, The Suiters for their insolence should pay. Do what you please, but yet I think it best, When you have done, that Peace for ever stay; And ever reign Ulysses and his race. Which to confirm, Oblivion I'll send Of former Acts the image to deface. Then gladly Pallas did from Heaven descend. When now Ulysses and his Company Removed had their hunger w••th good chear, Ulysses said, Some one go forth and see Whether the Ithacesians be near. And then one of the young men standing there Went forth and saw them as he past the Sill; And turning back, Arm, said he, they are here; And then they all put on their Arms of Steel. Ulysses and his Son, and Servants four, Six Sons of Dolius. And the old men Laertes were and Dolius two more. Aged they were, but necessary then Then arm'd, Ulysses leading, out they go. And Pallas both in person and in voice Resembling Mentor in came to them too. Ulysses seeing her did much rejoyce. And looking on Telemachus, he said, Telemachus, this Battle will declare Who Courage has, who not. Be not afraid. That you dishonour not your stock beware. Father, said he, you shall see by and by, You need not be ashamed of your Son.

Laertes this discourse heard joyfully And to the Gods cri'd out in passion, O ye kind Gods, and happy day is this! O joy! My Son and Grandson are at strife Which of the two the most Courageous is, And ready to buy Honour with his life. Then Pallas to Laertes said, My Friend, Son of Arcesius, whom the Gods do love, With all your force your Spear now from you send. But pray first unto Pallas and to Jove. He praid, and threw his Spear, which th'Helmet smot Of old Eupeithes, and went into's head. Down dead he fell; the Helmet sav'd him not. His Armour rattled, and his spirit fled. And then fell on Ulysses and his Son, Upon the foremost both with Sword and Spear, And surely had destroy'd them ev'ry one, Had not Jove's Daughter Pallas then been there. She to the People call'd aloud and said, Hold Ithacesians. The Quarrel may Whithout more blood be ended. They afraid Of th'Heavenly voice began to run away. Ulysses yet not ceased to pursue The Captains of his foes, till from above In Thunder Jove his sooty Bolt down threw. Then Pallas said, Beware; offend not Jove. And glad was then Ulysses to give o're. By Pallas were propounded terms of Peace In Mentor's shape; and each part to them swore. And thus it was agreed the War should cease.

FINIS.