Homer, his Odysses translated, adorn'd with sculpture, and illustrated with annotations by John Ogilby, Esq. ...

HOMERS ODYSSES. (Book 23)

THE TWENTY THIRD BOOK. (Book 23)

THE ARGUMENT.

Old Nurse ore-joy'd up to the Queen doth go, And waking, tells, Ulysses stay'd below. Penelope, with female Fancies fed, Long scruples, till the King describes their Bed. Transported then she leaps into his Arms: Pallas Night almost spent prolongs by Charms.

BUT Old Nurse hasts up to the drawing-Room, To tell Penelope the King was come. Nimbly she trip'd, not feeling strength decay'd, Then standing neer her Pillow, thus she said;

Rise dearest Daughter, rise Penelope, That thou may'st him behold thou long'st to see, Ʋlysses, who, though late, at last is come: Those Roysters all are kill'd, who here at Home

Devour'd his state, and did his Son deride. The Queen, her not believing, thus reply'd;

Dear Nurse, the Gods thus make thee rave, who can Make Wisemen Fools, and wise the Foolish man, They Hand in Hand conjoyn Follie and Wit, They thus distract thee, who wert once Discreet. Why didst Thou wake me grieving, from so deep And pleasant, such a golden-fetter'd sleep? I never had the like, since(*) 1.1 all my Joy Went to that hateful Siege of cursed Troy. Leave me: If any else had been so bold To break my Rest, and me such Tydings told, I should have sent her back with worser News: But, Euryclea, Age shall Thee excuse.

Then thus Old Nurse reply'd; I wrong not you, My dearest Daughter, all I say is true: The King is come, and now within thy Court, That Stranger whom the Sutors made their sport. Telemachus knew all before, but hid The whole Concern, as Him his Father bid; That the proud Crew examples might be made. At this ore-joy'd, she leap'd out of her Bed, And the Old Woman shedding Tears embrac'd,

Dear Nurse, then said, Is this all true thou say'st? How came He hither? How could He alone The Rivals worst, so many against One, Who alwaies ready, stood upon their Guard?

Then she reply'd; I neither saw nor heard, More then their dying Groans, we trembling, all Our Chambers kept, till me your Son did call Down to his Father, where the King I found Hem'd in with heaps of slaughter'd bodies round. You had admir'd to see, how there he stood, Like a stern Lyon smear'd all ore with Blood.

In th' outward Court they lie heap'd in a Pyre, The Room's perfum'd: He standing by a Fire, Entreats your Presence, and sent me to call; Make hast, that there we may be joyful all: Now make glad periods to all Sorrows past, Since what so much you long'd for's come at last. He is in Health return'd to his own House, Finds well his hopeful Son, his Virtuous Spouse, And all the Havock which the Sutors made, For't with their Lives they have full dearly paid. Then thus, Dear Nurse, Penelope reply'd;

Boast not, nor my Credulity deride. Thou know'st that nothing can more welcom be, Then his Return, both to our Son and Me: But 'tis not as thou say'st. This cursed Crew Some God incens'd, for their Offences, flew; Since they all Strangers us'd alike, nor had Regard to any either Good or Bad: They justly suffer'd, but Ʋlysses lost Will ne'r, I fear, review his Native Coast.

How scap'd such words thy teeth, their Ivory guard? Euryclea said, You'r of Belief too hard. He in the Hall stands by the Fire, nay, more, I saw his scar got by a Salvage Boar, When Him I bath'd; which I to you had told, But on my Throat, he starting up, laid hold. Come, follow me, and if I tell a Lie, Let me with new-invented Torturs die.

Then she reply'd; No Mortal e're could sound The Gods Decrees, nor plumb those Deeps profound. But let us go that I may see my Son, The Sutors kill'd, and Him by whom 'twas done. This said, the Queen descends, much troubled, should She question Him, and at some distance hold,

Or leap into her dearest Lord's embrace. But through the Hall she passing, took her place Against th' opposed Wall, a little higher, Where by a Column stood, before the Fire, The King, expecting when the Queen would speak: But long she sat, nor once would silence break, Gazing on him, whom, in mean Garments clad, She knew not, when Telemachus thus said;

My Mother, no, ah! thou too cruel art, Why sitt'st thou from my Father thus a-part, And wilt not speak, nor the least Question ask: For any other Lady 'twere a Task, Too hard, from her dear Husband to abstain, Now after twenty years return'd again, Through Worlds of toyl, of misery, and want; You have a Heart harder then Adamant.

Then thus reply'd the Queen; Dear Son, I find Such strange Confusion in my troubled mind, I cannot speak, nor question what I would, Nor dare look up his Face once to behold. If this Ʋlysses be, which yet I doubt, Rather in private I would find Him out: He hath some marks, which if we were alone, Would better be to me, then others, known. Ʋlysses at the Quaeries that she made, Smiling, thus to Telemachus then said;

Son, her advise with me a-part to go, Then we may one another better know: Shabby my Looks, so mean my Garments be, Now for her Lord she'l not acknowledge me.

But now let us consult what's to be done, If any 'mongst these People kill but(a) 1.2 One, Seldom but few in his behalf will stand, He flying, straight forsakes his Native Land:

But we have many slain, the greatest too, In Ithaca, resolve whats best to do. When to his Father thus his Son replies;

You, Sir, best know, you'r ablest to advise, No Mortal whosoe'r, as goes the Fame, Better then you, Sir, plaies an after-game: Lay you your Plot, and we'll do what we can, Nor Valour want we, if it be in Man. When thus the subtile King himself exprest;

I'll speak my Judgment, what to me seems best: First let us bath, then put rich Garments on, The like must be by all the Women done: Let Phemius march before us in great state, As if we Dances were to celebrate; That some may say without they Nuptials hear, As they pass by, or those inhabit neer, E're flying Fame the City give th' Alarm Of this their Deaths, or we walk to the Farm, And there consider in the shady Grove What's best to do, and what seems best to Jove. Their King they, as the Oracle, obey'd; All bath, and in rich Habits ready made: The Women drest themselves in gay Attire, And Phemius, as at Nuptials, ••ouch'd his Lyre: Sweetly he sung, their light Feet beat the Ground, And Dancing, make the arched Hall resound: Then some did say that heard without the Gate, The Queen had chosen now a Princely Mate, And would no longer keep so great a House, Nor more expect her so long-look'd-for Spouse: So some did say, but nothing knew. Mean while Eurynome baths, and noints with purest Oyl Ʋlysses, and in Royal Habit clads, And to his Face and Person, Pallas adds

Beauty and Size, and on his Tresses sets Lustre that shone like purple Violets: As Gold and Silver by some Artist wrought, Whom(b) 1.3 Mulciber or bright Minerva taught, On's Head and Shoulders she such splendor strow'd, That from the Bath he march'd out like a God, And where he sat, that place resumes agen: Then thus he spake unto his self-will'd Queen;

Beyond all Women thou unhappy art, Since Heaven hath so obdurated thy Heart. What other Woman would be kept off so, From her dear Lord, who, through a world of Woe, The twentieth year himself to her addrest? Nurse, go and make my Bed, that I may rest: Thy soul is steel, or else thy Heart would ake. When to the King Penelope thus spake;

I never, Sir, affected was with Pride, Nor Rich admire, nor thee, though Poor, deride: But I remember well what then thou wert, When me thou left'st, if such a one thou art.

But Euryclea, go and make that Bed In the great Chamber which Ʋlysses made Himself, with so much Art, soft Blankets let Be put on straight, and a rich Coverlet. Thus said the Queen, her dearest Lord to trie. But He offended, made this rough Reply;

Strangely you talk, your Order's something od, Who can remove that Bed, unless some God? Celestials may by their Supernal Power, But never Mortal shall, though in his Flower: This as a signal fram'd I with much Art, And greatness, none but I perform'd that part. A stately Olive in my Court did sprout, With spreading branches, like a Beam about.

This, when I had our Wedding-Chamber built, With well-lay'd stone, well plaister'd, seil'd, and guilt, Made able Doors, close by the Root I lopt, And off luxurious Boughs, and Foliage cropt; Then with an Augre bor'd, and by a line I cut and joyn'd whate'r I should conjoyn: So of this Olive I my Bed-sted made, With Ivory, Silver, and with Gold in-laid, And strongly corded then with(c) 1.4 purple Thongs, This the great signal which to me belongs; Nor know I, Madam, if you us'd it yet, Or else remov'd it in some sullen fit. Thus doubts remov'd, weeping, she quits her place, And throws her self into her Lord's imbrace: There she with Kisses smothering Him, his Neck

Imbracing, said; Thy rage, Ʋlysses, check, Since thou so prudent art, and know'st that we Shar'd equal Woes, divorc'd by Fates Decree, From joys of Marriage in a spightful hour, I, in my prime, Thou in thy sparkling Flower: Be not offended that I thus delaid Thy dear imbrace, that alwaies am afraid, Lest some (for many such Contrivements lay) Me with dissembling Language should betray. (d) 1.5 Helen had ne'r offended as she did, And chang'd her Husband's for a forein Bed, Had she but dreamt the Greeks should e're transport, From Ilium, her to Menelaus Court: But Jove into that error let her fall, Because she not considered at all The mischiefs that might happen, which hath wrought So strongly, and on us these sorrows brought. Your Bed, which you describ'd, I not deny, Me hath convinc'd, which none but you, and I,

And Actoris, (my dearest Fathers Gift, When I his Roofs for this your Palace left) E're yet beheld; She keeps lock'd up and barr'd. Now I believe all what before seem'd hard. This said, a gentle Grief his Wrath disarms, He weeps, his Queen imbracing in his Arms: As when the Skie after a Tempest cleers, And Coast to storm-strest Mariners appears, A few escaping swim unto the Land, And their bulg'd Vessel bedded, leave in Sand, Their bodies wrapt in Weeds, the shore they reach, Their weary Limbs reposing on the Beach; So glad was she her Husband to behold, Nor could her Arms from his imbrace unfold: And in this Posture they had been till Day, But that Minerva stop'd Aurora's way, Not suffering her from th' Ocean to approach, Nor her swift steeds joyn in her golden(e) 1.6 Coach, Lampus and Phaeton, who quick Light convay To Mortals, call'd the Horses of the Day. When thus Ʋlysses to his Queen begun;

My Dear, our business yet we have not done, A world of several Labours we must through, All which necessity compells unto: For so Tiresias me foretelling, said, When I descended to th' infernal shade, How we in safety might return t'enquire: My Dear, in private let us now retire, Where we may please our selves in gentle rest. When thus the Joyful Queen her self exprest;

Your Bed shall ready be, Sir, when you please, But since the Gods you convoy'd through the Seas, To your own Palace, and your Native Land, Since well your future state you understand:

Now tell me what I must here-after hear, Better to know, then not know, what to fear.

Then he reply'd; Why my ensuing Fate Would'st thou, dear Wife, that I should now relate? But I shall tell thee and the Truth recite, Which neither me nor you will much delight. I many populous Cities must explore, Still carrying in my Hands a handsom Oar, Untill I find a People saw not yet The swelling Main, nor(f) 1.7 Salt use with their Meat, That know not how to steer with sails a-trip, Nor handle Oars, that Wings are to a ship, My sign shall be when first I meet a Man, Mistakes the Oar I carry for a Van: Then in the Countrey I should fix my Oar, And there great Neptune, th' Ocean's King, implore, Offering a Lamb, a Bull, and pregnant Sow; From thence then Home, to my own Palace go, And there whole Hecatombs must sacrifice, To all the Gods who plant the ample Skies. Then Death, from Sea, shall me, grown Old, arrest, When I am happy, and my People blest. I this response had from Tiresias shade. Then to the King Penelope thus said;

If Thee thy Age the Gods more tranquil Doom, Then we preceding Sorrows may ore-come. Betwixt themselves they such Discourses had, Mean while, their Bed, Nurse and Eurynome made, And lighted Lamps; when they had finish'd all, Back Euryclea goes into the Hall, Eurynome, bearing a Taper, led Them to their Chamber, and their Marriage-Bed, Then left them to themselves, where th' antient Feat, Love's sweetest Lesson, they with joy repeat.

When the Young Prince, and his bold Swains forbid Them longer Dance, as order'd, so they did. Thence, weary, then to their Repose retir'd, But when they had injoy'd what both desir'd, They fell into Discourse; his well-pleas'd Spouse, Tells him how much she suffer'd in his House; What Revel-rout the Sutors there did keep, Devouring his best Beevs, and fattest Sheep, Drinking whole Tuns of Wine: but he relates, A Series of his Sufferings, and sad Fates, Pleas'd with his Tale, in sleep she could not fall, Nor close her Eys, till he had told her all. Who first recounts, how the(g) 1.8 Ciconians he Ore-come; next, what the(h) 1.9 Lotophagie be; How Cyclops us'd him, how he Him did treat, Who without mercy his Companions eat. How Aeolus Home, him kindly feasting, sent, But Fate did his arrival then prevent; Back from his Native shore a Heurican Bore him, lamenting, through the boysterous Main: Of(i) 1.10 Laestrygonian Gyants he tells then, How they destroy'd his Ships, and all his men: How with one Vessel he escap'd to Sea: Next, tells her Circe's Charms and Subtilty: Then how he went to Pluto's Dismal Gates, What of Tiresias he enquir'd, relates: There all his Friends and Mother he beheld, Who bore and foster'd him a little Child: Next, Syrens heard, Charybdis rocky Cape, And Scylla past, whence seldom any scape: Then how his men the Sun's fair Cattel slew; How Jove his Vessel up with Lightning blew, All his Associats swallow'd in the Sound; How he escap'd, the Isle Ogygia found,

Where fair Calypso Him to be her Lord, Long courted, treating both at Bed and Board: That Him she would immortal make she said, Ne'r to be Old, but all would not persuade. Next how He came to the Pheacian shore, Whom there they all did as a God adore: Of Gold and Garments a rich Present made, And then by Sea to Ithaca convay'd. As thus he talk'd: sleep seiz'd him unawares In golden Chains, which cures Heart-eating Cares. But Pallas then another Plot contriv'd, When sleep enough his Spirits had reviv'd, And his dear Wife's embraces; Daun's approach, From Sea she hastens in her golden Coach, Conveying Light to Mortals: from his Bed Ʋlysses rising, to his Queen thus sed;

We both have surfeited with Grief, my Dear, Thou in my absence many troubles here; But me the God's wearied with Woe and Toyl, Crossing my Passage to my Native Soyl: Now in one Bed we former Comforts find, Next to Domestick cares let's turn our mind. What sheep the wasting Sutors did consume, I'll take so many as shall fill their Room: The Greeks that number shall for me provide, Till all my Coats and Stals are re-supply'd: But I must go now to the Field, to give My Father Comfort, who for me doth grieve. But, Dearest Wife, Thee I command, although Thou art Discreet (for straight the Fame will go Of these proud Sutors slaughter to the Town) To keep within thy Chamber, nor come down, Nor see, nor speak with any there. This done, He arms himself, the like commands his Son,

Eumaeus, and Philaetius, and all there, That straight in glittering Armour they appear, All clad in Steel were, straight their King th' obey'd, Open'd the Gates, whom forth Ʋlysses led: Now the Sun rose, whom Pallas though convay'd Forth from the City cover'd with a shade.

Notes

• (*) 1.1

  Ʋlysses.
• (a) 1.2

  He alludes to the Laws of the Athenians, who punish'd all Homicide, though unwittingly committed on the meanest of the people, with Exile for one year. This appears from these Verses of Euripides in his Hippolytus,

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.

  When Hercules in his distraction had slain two sons of Iphiclus's and one of his own, as soon as his passion was o∣ver, he was desir'd by Iphiclus and Licymnius to absent himself for one year 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉(saith Nicolans Da∣mascinus) as the Custom is, and then to return to Thebes again. pag•• 202
• (b) 1.3

  As the Poets feign'd all Artists in general to receive their skill from Minerva; so in particular those that dealt in Metals, from Mulciber, that is, Vulcan: and therefore they are both nominated in this place. What the Ancients meant by Vulcan, we find in these Verses of Orpheus,

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.

  Nymphs water, Vulcan Fire, Ceres Grain, But Neptune and Enosichthon are the Main.

  Whence because all Metals are by the medium of Fire subjected to the Ar∣tists, they were esteem'd to be under the protection of Vulcan.
• (c) 1.4

  It seems in the time of our Po∣et, before the use of Cordage, they bound their Beds with Thongs of Lea∣ther; beautified with colours answer∣able to the quality of the Person.
• (d) 1.5

  This similitude, consisting of se∣ven verses in the original, is generally accounted spurious by the Grammari∣ans, as not answering to what prece∣ded: some there be, who by another sort of interpunction make another sence corresponding with the argu∣ment, thus; Holen had never consen∣ted to the enticements of a Stranger, had she consider'd what I have said, but because she was cheated (Venus representing Paris in the form of Me∣nelaus her Husband) the Grecians un∣dertook the expedition for her reco∣very: pardon me therefore if I be sollicitous to know your person before I acknowledge you for my Husband.
• (e) 1.6

  The Poets attribute a Chariot to the Sun in regard of the swiftness of his motion, and to express what is be∣yond the object of sense by that which is subject unto it. His Horses, as their names express, are no other then Light and Heat, whereof the Sun is the foun∣tain. Homer here allows him but two, but the rest do generally attribute four to him: Ovid in his Metamorphosis,

  Interea volucres Pyrois, Eous, & Ae∣thon, Solis equi, quartusque Phlegon hinni∣tibus auras Flammiferis implent, &c.

  Mean while the Suns swift Horses; hot Pyrous, Light Aethon, fiery Phlegon, bright Eous Neighing aloud, inflame the air with heat, And with their thundering Hoofs the barrier beat.
• (f) 1.7

  I find that the Antients gene∣rally interpreted this place of Epirus, not far distant from Ithaca. So Pa••∣sanias in his description of Africa, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. &c. Pyrthus being highly con∣ceited of his strength, enco••ntred the Carthaginians (the most experienc'd of all the Barbarians, being descended from the Phenicians) in a Naval Fight, his Armada consisting only of Epirots, who when Troy was taken knew not the Se••, nor use of Salt, as Homer testifies. These that knew not the Sea, were ig∣norant of the use of Salt, according to our Poet: whence it may be conjectur'd that he knew of no other Salt but what was made of Sea water. The other token of their ignorance of the Sea was, that they should not know an Oar, but call it by the Name of an instrument where∣with they winnowed Corn.
• (g) 1.8

  The Ciconians were a people that inhabited Ismarus, a City of Thrace, as we have already seen in the 9 of the Odysses. They were assistant to the Trojans, reckon'd up among Auxiliaries,

  Eu 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. 'T 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.

  Euphemus led the valiant Cicons on, Grand-Child to glorious Ceas, Troi∣zen's Son.
• (h) 1.9

  The Lotophagi were inhabitants of the Island Menynx, which lies be∣fore the lesser Syrtis, so call'd, because they fed on the fruit of the Lotus tree, of which there is great abundance in that Isle.
• (i) 1.10

  Of these Giants, see Odyss. 10. where the story is deliver'd at large.