Book XX
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| | While Ulysses lies in the vestibule of the palace, he is witness | |
| | to the disorders of the women. Minerva comforts him, and casts him | |
| | asleep. At his waking he desires a favourable sign from Jupiter, | |
| | which is granted. The feast of Apollo is celebrated by the people, | |
| | and the suitors banquet in the palace. Telemachus exerts his | |
| | authority amongst them; notwithstanding which, Ulysses is insulted | |
| | by Caesippus, and the rest continue in their excesses. Strange | |
| | prodigies are seen by Theoclymenus, the augur, who explains them | |
| | to the destruction of the wooers. | |
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|
| | An ample hide devine Ulysses spread. | |
| | And form'd of fleecy skins his humble bed | |
| | (The remnants of the spoil the suitor-crowd | |
| | In festival devour'd, and victims vow'd). | |
| | Then o'er the chief, Eurynome the chaste | |
| | With duteous care a downy carpet cast: | |
| | With dire revenge his thoughtful bosom glows, | |
| | And, ruminating wrath, he scorns repose. | |
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|
| | As thus pavilion'd in the porch he lay, | |
| | Scenes of lewd loves his wakeful eyes survey, | |
| | Whilst to nocturnal joys impure repair, | |
| | With wanton glee, the prostituted fair. | |
| | His heart with rage this new dishonour stung, | |
| | Wavering his thoughts in dubious balance hung: | |
| | Or instant should he quench the guilty flame | |
| | With their own blood, and intercept the shame: | |
| | Or to their lust indulge a last embrace, | |
| | And let the peers consummate the disgrace | |
| | Round his swoln heart the murmurous fury rolls, | |
| | As o'er her young the mother-mastiff growls, | |
| | And bays the stranger groom: so wrath compress'd, | |
| | Recoiling, mutter'd thunder in his breast. | |
| | "Poor suffering heart! (he cried,) support the pain | |
| | Of wounded honour, and thy rage restrain. | |
| | Not fiercer woes thy fortitude could foil, | |
| | When the brave partners of thy ten years' toil | |
| | Dire Polypheme devour'd; I then was freed | |
| | By patient prudence from the death decreed." | |
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|
| | Thus anchor'd safe on reason's peaceful coast, | |
| | Tempests of wrath his soul no longer toss'd; | |
| | Restless his body rolls, to rage resign'd | |
| | As one who long with pale-eyed famine pined, | |
| | The savoury cates on glowing embers cast | |
| | Incessant turns, impatient for repast | |
| | Ulysses so, from side to side-devolved, | |
| | In self-debate the suitor's doom resolved | |
| | When in the form of mortal nymph array'd, | |
| | From heaven descends the Jove-born martial maid; | |
| | And'hovering o'er his head in view confess'd, | |
| | The goddess thus her favourite care address'd: | |
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|
| | "O thou, of mortals most inured to woes! | |
| | Why roll those eyes unfriended of repose? | |
| | Beneath thy palace-roof forget thy care; | |
| | Bless'd in thy queen! bless'd in thy blooming heir! | |
| | Whom, to the gods when suppliant fathers bow | |
| | They name the standard of their dearest vow." | |
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|
| | "Just is thy kind reproach (the chief rejoin'd), | |
| | Deeds full of fate distract my various mind, | |
| | In contemplatiou wrapp'd. This hostile crew | |
| | What single arm hath prowess to subdue? | |
| | Or if, by Jove's and thy auxiliar aid, | |
| | They're doom'd to bleed; O say, celestial maid! | |
| | Where shall Ulysses shun, or how sustain | |
| | Nations embattled to revenge the slain?" | |
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|
| | "Oh impotence of faith! (Minerva cries,) | |
| | If man on frail unknowing man relies, | |
| | Doubt you the gods? Lo, Pallas' self descends, | |
| | Inspires thy counsels, and thy toils attends. | |
| | In me affianced, fortify thy breast, | |
| | Though myriads leagued thy rightful claim contest | |
| | My sure divinity shall bear the shield, | |
| | And edge thy sword to reap the glorious field. | |
| | Now, pay the debt to craving nature due, | |
| | Her faded powers with balmy rest renew." | |
| | She ceased, ambrosial slumbers seal his eyes; | |
| | Her care dissolves in visionary joys | |
| | The goddess, pleased, regains her natal skies. | |
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|
| | Not so the queen; the downy bands of sleep | |
| | By grief relax'd she waked again to weep: | |
| | A gloomy pause ensued of dumb despair; | |
| | Then thus her fate invoked, with fervent prayer | |
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|
| | "Diana! speed thy deathful ebon dart, | |
| | And cure the pangs of this convulsive heart. | |
| | Snatch me, ye whirlwinds! far from human race, | |
| | Toss'd through the void illimitable space | |
| | Or if dismounted from the rapid cloud, | |
| | Me with his whelming wave let Ocean shroud! | |
| | So, Pandarus, thy hopes, three orphan fair; | |
| | Were doom'd to wander through the devious air; | |
| | Thyself untimely, and thy consort died, | |
| | But four celestials both your cares supplied. | |
| | Venus in tender delicacy rears | |
| | With honey, milk, and wine their infant years; | |
| | Imperial Juno to their youth assigned | |
| | A form majestic, and sagacious mind; | |
| | With shapely growth Diana graced their bloom; | |
| | And Pallas taught the texture of the loom. | |
| | But whilst, to learn their lots in nuptial love, | |
| | Bright Cytherea sought the bower of Jove | |
| | (The God supreme, to whose eternal eye | |
| | The registers of fate expanded lie; | |
| | Wing'd Harpies snatch the unguarded charge away, | |
| | And to the Furies bore a grateful prey. | |
| | Be such my lot! Or thou, Diana, speed | |
| | Thy shaft, and send me joyful to the dead; | |
| | To seek my lord among the warrior train, | |
| | Ere second vows my bridal faith profane. | |
| | When woes the waking sense alone assail, | |
| | Whilst Night extends her soft oblivious veil, | |
| | Of other wretches' care the torture ends; | |
| | No truce the warfare of my heart suspends! | |
| | The night renews the day distracting theme, | |
| | And airy terrors sable every dream. | |
| | The last alone a kind illusion wrought, | |
| | And to my bed my loved Ulysses brought, | |
| | In manly bloom, and each majestic grace, | |
| | As when for Troy he left my fond embrace; | |
| | Such raptures in my beating bosom rise, | |
| | I deem it sure a vision of the skies." | |
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|
| | Thus, whilst Aurora mounts her purple throne, | |
| | In audible laments she breathes her moan; | |
| | The sounds assault Ulysses' wakeful ear; | |
| | Misjudging of the cause, a sudden fear | |
| | Of his arrival known, the chief alarms; | |
| | He thinks the queen is rushing to his arms. | |
| | Upspringing from his couch, with active haste | |
| | The fleece and carpet in the dome he placed | |
| | (The hide, without, imbibed the morning air); | |
| | And thus the gods invoked with ardent prayer: | |
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|
| | "Jove, and eternal thrones! with heaven to friend, | |
| | If the long series of my woes shall end; | |
| | Of human race now rising from repose, | |
| | Let one a blissful omen here disclose; | |
| | And, to confirm my faith, propitious Jove! | |
| | Vouchsafe the sanction of a sign above." | |
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|
| | Whilst lowly thus the chief adoring bows, | |
| | The pitying god his guardian aid avows. | |
| | Loud from a sapphire sky his thunder sounds; | |
| | With springing hope the hero's heart rebounds. | |
| | Soon, with consummate joy to crown his prayer, | |
| | An omen'd voice invades his ravish'd ear. | |
| | Beneath a pile that close the dome adjoin'd, | |
| | Twelve female slaves the gift of Ceres grind; | |
| | Task'd for the royal board to bolt the bran | |
| | From the pure flour (the growth and strength of man) | |
| | Discharging to the day the labour due, | |
| | Now early to repose the rest withdrew; | |
| | One maid unequal to the task assign'd, | |
| | Still turn'd the toilsome mill with anxious mind; | |
| | And thus in bitterness of soul divined: | |
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|
| | "Father of gods and men, whose thunders roll | |
| | O'er the cerulean vault, and shake the pole: | |
| | Whoe'er from Heaven has gain'd this rare ostent | |
| | (Of granted vows a certain signal sent), | |
| | In this blest moment of accepted prayer, | |
| | Piteous, regard a wretch consumed with care! | |
| | Instant, O Jove! confound the suitor-train, | |
| | For whom o'ertoil'd I grind the golden grain: | |
| | Far from this dome the lewd devourers cast, | |
| | And be this festival decreed their last!" | |
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|
| | Big with their doom denounced in earth and sky, | |
| | Ulysses' heart dilates with secret joy. | |
| | Meantime the menial train with unctious wood | |
| | Heap'd high the genial hearth, Vulcanian food: | |
| | When, early dress'd, advanced the royal heir; | |
| | With manly grasp he waved a martial spear; | |
| | A radiant sabre graced his purple zone, | |
| | And on his foot the golden sandal shone. | |
| | His steps impetuous to the portal press'd; | |
| | And Euryclea thus he there address'd: | |
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|
| | "Say thou to whom my youth its nurture owes, | |
| | Was care for due refection and repose | |
| | Bestow'd the stranger-guest? Or waits he grieved, | |
| | His age not honour'd, nor his wants relieved? | |
| | Promiscuous grace on all the queen confers | |
| | (In woes bewilder'd, oft the wisest errs). | |
| | The wordy vagrant to the dole aspires, | |
| | And modest worth with noble scorn retires." | |
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|
| | She thus: "O cease that ever-honour'd name | |
| | To blemish now: it ill deserves your blame, | |
| | A bowl of generous wine sufficed the guest; | |
| | In vain the queen the night refection press'd; | |
| | Nor would he court repose in downy state, | |
| | Unbless'd, abandon'd to the rage of Fate! | |
| | A hide beneath the portico was spread, | |
| | And fleecy skins composed an humble bed; | |
| | A downy carpet cast with duteous care, | |
| | Secured him from the keen nocturnal air." | |
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|
| | His cornel javelin poised with regal port, | |
| | To the sage Greeks convened in Themis' court, | |
| | Forth-issuing from the dome the prince repair'd; | |
| | Two dogs of chase, a lion-hearted guard, | |
| | Behind him sourly stalked. Without delay | |
| | The dame divides the labour of the day; | |
| | Thus urging to the toil the menial train; | |
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|
| | "What marks of luxury the marble stain | |
| | Its wonted lustre let the floor regain; | |
| | The seats with purple clothe in order due; | |
| | And let the abstersive sponge the board renew; | |
| | Let some refresh the vase's sullied mould; | |
| | Some bid the goblets boast their native gold; | |
| | Some to the spring, with each a jar, repair, | |
| | And copious waters pure for bathing bear; | |
| | Dispatch! for soon the suitors will essay | |
| | The lunar feast-rites to the god of day." | |
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|
| | She said: with duteous haste a bevy fair | |
| | Of twenty virgins to the spring repair; | |
| | With varied toils the rest adorn the dome. | |
| | Magnificent, and blithe, the suitors come. | |
| | Some wield the sounding axe; the dodder'd oaks | |
| | Divide, obedient to the forceful strokes. | |
| | Soon from the fount, with each a brimming urn | |
| | (Eumaeus in their train), the maids return. | |
| | Three porkers for the feast, all brawny-chined, | |
| | He brought; the choicest of the tusky-kind; | |
| | In lodgments first secure his care he viewed, | |
| | Then to the king this friendly speech renew'd: | |
| | "Now say sincere, my guest! the suitor-train | |
| | Still treat thy worth with lordly dull disdain; | |
| | Or speaks their deed a bounteous mind humane?" | |
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|
| | "Some pitying god (Ulysses sad replied) | |
| | With vollied vengeance blast their towering pride! | |
| | No conscious blush, no sense of right, restrains | |
| | The tides of lust that swell the boiling veins; | |
| | From vice to vice their appetites are toss'd, | |
| | All cheaply sated at another's cost!" | |
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|
| | While thus the chief his woes indignant told, | |
| | Melanthius, master of the bearded fold, | |
| | The goodliest goats of all the royal herd | |
| | Spontaneous to the suitors' feast preferr'd; | |
| | Two grooms assistant bore the victims bound; | |
| | With quavering cries the vaulted roofs resound; | |
| | And to the chief austere aloud began | |
| | The wretch unfriendly to the race of man: | |
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|
| | "Here vagrant, still? offensive to my lords! | |
| | Blows have more energy than airy words; | |
| | These arguments I'll use: nor conscious shame, | |
| | Nor threats, thy bold intrusion will reclaim. | |
| | On this high feast the meanest vulgar boast | |
| | A plenteous board! Hence! seek another host!" | |
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| | Rejoinder to the churl the king disdain'd, | |
| | But shook his head, and rising wrath restrain'd. | |
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|
| | From Cephanelia 'cross the surgy main | |
| | Philaetius late arrived, a faithful swain. | |
| | A steer ungrateful to the bull's embrace. | |
| | And goats he brought, the pride of all their race; | |
| | Imported in a shallop not his own; | |
| | The dome re-echoed to the mingl'd moan. | |
| | Straight to the guardian of the bristly kind | |
| | He thus began, benevolent of mind: | |
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|
| | "What guest is he, of such majestic air? | |
| | His lineage and paternal clime declare: | |
| | Dim through the eclipse of fate, the rays divine | |
| | Of sovereign state with faded splendour shine. | |
| | If monarchs by the gods are plunged in woe, | |
| | To what abyss are we foredoom'd to go!" | |
| | Then affable he thus the chief address'd, | |
| | Whilst with pathetic warmth his hand he press'd: | |
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|
| | "Stranger, may fate a milder aspect show, | |
| | And spin thy future with a whiter clue! | |
| | O Jove! for ever death to human cries; | |
| | The tyrant, not the father of the skies! | |
| | Unpiteous of the race thy will began! | |
| | The fool of fate, thy manufacture, man, | |
| | With penury, contempt, repulse, and care, | |
| | The galling load of life is doom'd to bear. | |
| | Ulysses from his state a wanderer still, | |
| | Upbraids thy power, thy wisdom, or thy will! | |
| | O monarch ever dear!-O man of woe! | |
| | Fresh flow my tears, and shall for ever flow! | |
| | Like thee, poor stranger guest, denied his home, | |
| | Like thee: in rags obscene decreed to roam! | |
| | Or, haply perish'd on some distant coast, | |
| | In stygian gloom he glides, a pensive ghost! | |
| | Oh, grateful for the good his bounty gave, | |
| | I'll grieve, till sorrow sink me to the grave! | |
| | His kind protecting hand my youth preferr'd, | |
| | The regent of his Cephalenian herd; | |
| | With vast increase beneath my care it spreads: | |
| | A stately breed! and blackens far the meads. | |
| | Constrain'd, the choicest beeves I thence import, | |
| | To cram these cormorants that crowd his court: | |
| | Who in partition seek his realm to share; | |
| | Nor human right nor wrath divine revere, | |
| | Since here resolved oppressive these reside, | |
| | Contending doubts my anxious heart divide: | |
| | Now to some foreign clime inclined to fly, | |
| | And with the royal herd protection buy; | |
| | Then, happier thoughts return the nodding scale, | |
| | Light mounts despair, alternate hopes prevail: | |
| | In opening prospects of ideal joy, | |
| | My king returns; the proud usurpers die." | |
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| | To whom the chief: "In thy capacious mind | |
| | Since daring zeal with cool debate is join'd, | |
| | Attend a deed already ripe in fate: | |
| | Attest, O Jove! the truth I now relate! | |
| | This sacred truth attest, each genial power, | |
| | Who bless the board, and guard this friendly bower! | |
| | Before thou quit the dome (nor long delay) | |
| | Thy wish produced in act, with pleased survey, | |
| | Thy wondering eyes shall view: his rightful reign | |
| | By arms avow'd Ulysses shall regain, | |
| | And to the shades devote the suitor-train." | |
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|
| | "O Jove supreme! (the raptured swain replies,) | |
| | With deeds consummate soon the promised joys! | |
| | These aged nerves, with new-born vigour strung, | |
| | In that blest cause should emulate the young." | |
| | Assents Eumaeus to the prayer address'd; | |
| | And equal ardours fire his loyal breast. | |
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|
| | Meantime the suitors urge the prince's fate, | |
| | And deathful arts employ the dire debate: | |
| | When in his airy tour, the bird of Jove | |
| | Truss'd with his sinewy pounce a trembling dove; | |
| | Sinister to their hope! This omen eyed | |
| | Amphinomus, who thus presaging cried: | |
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|
| | "The gods from force and fraud the prince defend; | |
| | O peers! the sanguinary scheme suspend: | |
| | Your future thought let sable fate employ; | |
| | And give the present hour to genial joy." | |
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|
| | From council straight the assenting peerage ceased, | |
| | And in the dome prepared the genial feast. | |
| | Disrobed, their vests apart in order lay, | |
| | Then all with speed succinct the victims slay: | |
| | With sheep and shaggy goats the porkers bled, | |
| | And the proud steer was on the marble spread. | |
| | With fire prepared, they deal the morsels round, | |
| | Wine, rosy-bright, the brimming goblets crown'd, | |
| | By sage Eumaeus borne; the purple tide | |
| | Melanthius from an ample jar supplied: | |
| | High canisters of bread Philaetius placed; | |
| | And eager all devour the rich repast. | |
| | Disposed apart, Ulysses shares the treat; | |
| | A trivet table, and ignobler seat, | |
| | The prince appoints; but to his sire assigns | |
| | The tasteful inwards, and nectareous wines. | |
| | "Partake, my guest (he cried), without control | |
| | The social feast, and drain the cheering bowl: | |
| | Dread not the railer's laugh, nor ruffian's rage; | |
| | No vulgar roof protects thy honour'd age; | |
| | This dome a refuge to thy wrongs shall be, | |
| | From my great sire too soon devolved to me! | |
| | Your violence and scorn, ye suitors, cease, | |
| | Lest arms avenge the violated peace." | |
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|
| | Awed by the prince, so haughty, brave, and young, | |
| | Rage gnaw'd the lip, amazement chain'd the tongue. | |
| | "Be patient, peers! (at length Antinous cries,) | |
| | The threats of vain imperious youth despise: | |
| | Would Jove permit the meditated blow, | |
| | That stream of eloquence should cease to flow." | |
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|
| | Without reply vouchsafed, Antinous ceased: | |
| | Meanwhile the pomp of festival increased: | |
| | By heralds rank'd; in marshall'd order move | |
| | The city tribes, to pleased Apollo's grove: | |
| | Beneath the verdure of which awful shade, | |
| | The lunar hecatomb they grateful laid; | |
| | Partook the sacred feast, and ritual honours paid. | |
| | But the rich banquet, in the dome prepared | |
| | (An humble sideboard set) Ulysses shared. | |
| | Observant of the prince's high behest, | |
| | His menial train attend the stranger-guest; | |
| | Whom Pallas with unpardoning fury fired, | |
| | By lordly pride and keen reproach inspired. | |
| | A Samian peer, more studious than the rest | |
| | Of vice, who teem'd with many a dead-born jest; | |
| | And urged, for title to a consort queen, | |
| | Unnumber'd acres arable and green | |
| | (Otesippus named); this lord Ulysses eyed, | |
| | And thus burst out the imposthumate with pride: | |
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|
| | "The sentence I propose, ye peers, attend: | |
| | Since due regard must wait the prince's friend, | |
| | Let each a token of esteem bestow: | |
| | This gift acquits the dear respect I owe; | |
| | With which he nobly may discharge his seat, | |
| | And pay the menials for a master's treat." | |
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|
| | He said: and of the steer before him placed, | |
| | That sinewy fragment at Ulysses cast, | |
| | Where to the pastern-bone, by nerves combined, | |
| | The well-horn'd foot indissolubly join'd; | |
| | Which whizzing high, the wall unseemly sign'd. | |
| | The chief indignant grins a ghastly smile; | |
| | Revenge and scorn within his bosom boil: | |
| | When thus the prince with pious rage inflamed: | |
| | "Had not the inglorious wound thy malice aim'd | |
| | Fall'n guiltless of the mark, my certain spear | |
| | Had made thee buy the brutal triumph dear: | |
| | Nor should thy sire a queen his daughter boast; | |
| | The suitor, now, had vanish'd in a ghost: | |
| | No more, ye lewd compeers, with lawless power | |
| | Invade my dome, my herds and flocks devour: | |
| | For genuine worth, of age mature to know, | |
| | My grape shall redden, and my harvest grow | |
| | Or, if each other's wrongs ye still support, | |
| | With rapes and riot to profane my court; | |
| | What single arm with numbers can contend? | |
| | On me let all your lifted swords descend, | |
| | And with my life such vile dishonours end." | |
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|
| | A long cessation of discourse ensued, | |
| | By gentler Agelaus thus renew'd: | |
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| | "A just reproof, ye peers! your rage restrain | |
| | From the protected guest, and menial train: | |
| | And, prince! to stop the source of future ill, | |
| | Assent yourself, and gain the royal will. | |
| | Whilst hope prevail'd to see your sire restored, | |
| | Of right the queen refused a second lord: | |
| | But who so vain of faith, so blind to fate, | |
| | To think he still survives to claim the state? | |
| | Now press the sovereign dame with warm desire | |
| | To wed, as wealth or worth her choice inspire: | |
| | The lord selected to the nuptial joys | |
| | Far hence will lead the long-contested prize: | |
| | Whilst in paternal pomp with plenty bless'd, | |
| | You reign, of this imperial dome possess'd." | |
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|
| | Sage and serene Telemachus replies: | |
| | " By him at whose behest the thunder flies, | |
| | And by the name on earth I most revere, | |
| | By great Ulysses and his woes I swear! | |
| | (Who never must review his dear domain; | |
| | Enroll'd, perhaps, in Pluto's dreary train), | |
| | Whene'er her choice the royal dame avows, | |
| | My bridal gifts shall load the future spouse: | |
| | But from this dome my parent queen to chase! | |
| | From me, ye gods! avert such dire disgrace." | |
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|
| | But Pallas clouds with intellectual gloom | |
| | The suitors' souls, insensate of their doom! | |
| | A mirthful frenzy seized the fated crowd; | |
| | The roofs resound with causeless laughter loud; | |
| | Floating in gore, portentous to survey! | |
| | In each discolour'd vase the viands lay; | |
| | Then down each cheek the tears spontaneous flow | |
| | And sudden sighs precede approaching woe. | |
| | In vision wrapp'd, the Hyperesian seer | |
| | Uprose, and thus divined the vengeance near: | |
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| | "O race to death devote! with Stygian shade | |
| | Each destin'd peer impending fates invade; | |
| | With tears your wan distorted cheeks are drown'd; | |
| | With sanguine drops the walls are rubied round: | |
| | Thick swarms the spacious hall with howling ghosts, | |
| | To people Orcus, and the burning coasts! | |
| | Nor gives the sun his golden orb to roll, | |
| | But universal night usurps the pole!" | |
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|
| | Yet warn'd in vain, with laughter loud elate | |
| | The peers reproach the sure divine of Fate; | |
| | And thus Eurymachus: "The dotard's mind | |
| | To every sense is lost, to reason blind; | |
| | Swift from the dome conduct the slave away; | |
| | Let him in open air behold the day." | |
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| | "Tax not (the heaven-illumined seer rejoin'd) | |
| | Of rage, or folly, my prophetic mind, | |
| | No clouds of error dim the ethereal rays, | |
| | Her equal power each faithful sense obeys. | |
| | Unguided hence my trembling steps I bend, | |
| | Far hence, before yon hovering deaths descend; | |
| | Lest the ripe harvest of revenge begun, | |
| | I share the doom ye suitors cannot shun." | |
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| | This said, to sage Piraeus sped the seer, | |
| | His honour'd host, a welcome inmate there. | |
| | O'er the protracted feast the suitors sit, | |
| | And aim to wound the prince with pointless wit: | |
| | Cries one, with scornful leer and mimic voice, | |
| | "Thy charity we praise, but not thy choice; | |
| | Why such profusion of indulgence shown | |
| | To this poor, timorous, toil-detesting drone? | |
| | That others feeds on planetary schemes, | |
| | And pays his host with hideous noon-day dreams. | |
| | But, prince! for once at least believe a friend; | |
| | To some Sicilian mart these courtiers send, | |
| | Where, if they yield their freight across the main, | |
| | Dear sell the slaves! demand no greater gain." | |
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| | Thus jovial they; but nought the prince replies; | |
| | Full on his sire he roll'd his ardent eyes: | |
| | Impatient straight to flesh his virgin-sword; | |
| | From the wise chief he waits the deathful word. | |
| | Nigh in her bright alcove, the pensive queen | |
| | To see the circle sate, of all unseen. | |
| | Sated at length they rise, and bid prepare | |
| | An eve-repast, with equal cost and care: | |
| | But vengeful Pallas, with preventing speed, | |
| | A feast proportion'd to their crimes decreed; | |
| | A feast of death, the feasters doom'd to bleed! | |
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