On angry Neptune now for mercy call;
To his high name let twelve black oxen fall.
So may the god reverse his purposed will,
Nor o'er our city hang the dreadful hill.
The monarch spoke: they trembled and obey'd.
Forth on the sands the victim oxen led:
The gather'd tribes before the altars stand,
And chiefs and rulers, a majestic band.
The king of ocean all the tribes implore;
The blazing altars redden all the shore.
Meanwhile Ulysses in his country lay,
Released from sleep, and round him might survey
The solitary shore and rolling sea.
Yet had his mind through tedious absence lost
The dear resemblance of his native coast;
Besides, Minerva, to secure her care,
Diffused around a veil of thicken'd air:
For so the gods ordain'd, to keep unseen
His royal person from his friends and queen ;
Till the proud suitors for their crimes afford
An ample vengeance to their injured lord.
Now all the land another prospect bore,
Another port appear'd, another shore,
210 With joy to thee, as to some god I bend,
To thee my treasures and myself commend.
O tell a wretch in exile doom'd to stray,
What air I breathe, what country I survey?'
The fruitful continent's extremest bound,
Or some fair isle which Neptune's arm surround?
From what fair clime (said she) remote from fame
Arrivest thou here a stranger to our name?
Thou seest an island, not to those unknown
Whose hills are brighten'd by the rising sun,
220 Nor those that placed beneath his utmost reign
Behold him sinking in the western main.
The rugged soil allows no level space
For flying chariots or the rapid race;
Yet, not ungrateful to the peasant's pain,
Suffices fulness to the swelling grain :
The loaded trees their various fruits produce,
And clustering grapes afford a generous juice:
Woods crown our mountains, and in every grove
The bounding goats and frisking heifers rove:
230 Soft rains and kindly dews refresh the field,
And rising springs eternal verdure yield.
Even to those shores is Ithaca renown'd,
Where Troy's majestic ruins strew the ground. 300
At this, the chief with transport was possess'd,
His panting heart exulted in his breast:
Yet, well dissembling his untimely joys,
And veiling truth in plausible disguise,
Thus, with an air sincere, in fiction bold,
His ready tale the inventive hero told:
And long-continued ways, and winding floods,
And unknown mountains, crown'd with unknown
woods
Pensive and slow, with sudden grief oppress'd,
The king arose, and beat his careful breast,
Cast a long look o'er all the coast and main,
And sought, around, his native realm in vain :
Then with erected eyes stood fix'd in woe,
And as he spoke, the tears began to flow.
Oft have I heard in Crete, this island's name:
240 For 'twas from Crete, my native soil, I came :
Self-banish'd thence. I sail'd before the wind,
And left my children and my friends behind;
From fierce Idomeneus' revenge I flew,
Whose son, the swift Orsilochus, I slew.
(With brutal force he seized my Trojan prey,
Due to the toils of many a bloody day.)
Unseen I 'scaped, and, favour'd by the night,
In a Phoenician vessel took my flight,
For Pyle or Elis bound: but tempests toss'd,
250 And raging billows drove us on your coast.
In dead of night an unknown port we gain'd,
Spent with fatigue, and slept secure on land.
But ere the rosy morn renew'd the day,
While in the embrace of pleasing sleep I lay,
Sudden, invited by auspicious gales,
Ye gods, he cried, upon what barren coast,
In what new region is Ulysses toss'd?
Possess'd by wild barbarians, fierce in arms?
Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?
Where shall this treasure now in safety lie?
And whither, whither its sad owner fly?
Ah why did I Alcino üs' grace implore?
Ah why forsake Phæacia's happy shore?
Some juster prince perhaps had entertain'd,
And safe restored me to my native land.
Is this the promised, long-expected coast,
And this the faith Phæacia's rulers boast?
Oh righteous gods! of all the great, how few
Are just to heaven, and to their promise true!
But he, the power to whose all-seeing eyes
The deeds of men appear without disguise,
"Tis his alone to avenge the wrongs I bear;
For still the oppress'd are his peculiar care.
To count these presents, and from thence to prove
Their faith, is mine: the rest belongs to Jove.
Then on the sands he ranged his wealthy store,
The gold, the vests, the tripods number'd o'er :
All these he found, but still in error lost
Disconsolate he wanders on the coast,
Sighs for his country, and laments again
To the deaf rocks, and hoarse resounding main.
When lo! the guardian goddess of the wise,
Celestial Pallas, stood before his eyes:
In show a youthful swain, of form divine,
They land my goods, and hoist their flying sails.
Abandon'd here my fortune I deplore,
A hapless exile on a foreign shore.
Thus while he spoke, the blue-eyed maid began
With pleasing smiles to view the godlike man:
Then changed her form and now, divinely bright,
Jove's heavenly daughter stood confess'd to sight;
Like a fair virgin in her beauty's bloom,
331
Skill d in the illustrious labours of the loom.
O still the same Ulysses! she rejoin'd,
In useful craft successfully refined!
Artful in speech, in action, and in mind!
Sufficed it not, that, thy long labours past,
Secure thou seest thy native shore at last?
Who seem'd descended from some princely line. 270 But this to me? who, like thyself, excel
A graceful robe her slender body dress'd:
Around her shoulders flew the waving vest,
Her decent hand a shining javelin bore,
And painted sandals on her feet she wore.
To whom the king: Whoe'er of human race
Thou art, that wander'st in this desert place!
In arts of counsel, and dissembling well:
To me? whose wit exceeds the powers divine, 340
No less than mortals are surpass'd by thine.
Know'st thou not me? who made thy life my care,
Through ten years' wandering, and through ten
Who taught thee arts, Alcinois to persuade,
To raise his wonder and engage his aid;
And now appear, thy treasures to protect,
Conceal thy person, thy designs direct,
And tell what more thou must from Fate expect:
Domestic woes far heavier to be borne !
The pride of fools and slaves' insulting scorn.
But thou be silent, nor reveal thy state;
Yield to the force of unresisted fate,
And bear unmoved the wrongs of base mankind,
The last, and hardest, conquest of the mind.
Goddess of wisdom! Ithacus replies,
He who discerns thee must be truly wise,
So seldom view'd, and ever in disguise!
When the bold Argives led their warring powers,
Against proud Ilion's well-defended towers,
Ulysses was thy care, celestial maid!
Graced with thy sight, and favour'd with thy aid:
But when the Trojan piles in ashes lay,
If Jove prolong my days, and Pallas crown
The growing virtues of my youthful son,
To you shall rites divine be ever paid,
And grateful offerings on your altars laid.
Thus then Minerva. From that anxious breast
Dismiss those cares, and leave to heaven the rest
350 Our task be now thy treasured stores to save,
Deep in the close recesses of the cave:
Then future means consult-She spoke, and trod
The shady grot, that brighten'd with the god.
The closest caverns of the grot she sought;
The gold, the brass, the robes, Ulysses brought:
These in the secret gloom the chief disposed;
The entrance with a rock the goddess closed.
Now, seated in the olive's sacred shade,
Confer the hero and the martial maid.
The goddess of the azure eyes began:
Son of Laërtes! much-experienced man!
The suitor-train thy earliest care demand,
Of that luxurious race to rid the land:
Three years thy house their lawless rule has seen,
And proud addresses to the matchless queen.
But she thy absence mourns from day to day,
And inly bleeds, and silent wastes away:
Elusive of the bridal hour, she gives
Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives.
To this Ulysses. Oh, celestial maid!
And bound for Greece we plough'd the watery way;
370 Praised be thy counsel, and thy timely aid:
Else had I seen my native walls in vain,
Like great Atrides, just restored and slain.
Vouchsafe the means of vengeance to debate,
And plan with all thy arts the scene of fate:
Then, then be present, and my soul inspire,
As when we wrapt Troy's heaven-built walls in fire
Though leagued against me hundred heroes stand,
Hundreds shall fall, if Pallas aid my hand.
Our fleet dispersed and driven from coast to coast,
Thy sacred presence from that hour I lost;
Till I beheld thy radiant form once more,
And heard thy counsels on Phæacia's shore.
But, by the almighty author of thy race,
Tell me, oh tell, is this my native place?
For much I fear, long tracts of land and sea
Divide this coast from distant Ithaca';
The sweet delusion kindly you impose,
To soothe my hopes, and mitigate my woes.
Thus he. The blue-eyed goddess thus replies.
How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise!
Who, versed in fortune, fear the flattering show,
And taste not half the bliss the gods bestow.
The more shall Pallas aid thy just desires,
And guard the wisdom which herself inspires.
Others, long absent from their native place.
Straight seek their home, and fly with eager pace
To their wives' arms, and children's dear embrace.
Not thus Ulysses: he decrees to prove
His subjects' faith, and queen's suspected love;
Who mourn'd her lord twice ten revolving years,
And wastes the days in grief, the nights in tears.
But Pallas knew (thy friends and navy lost)
Once more 'twas given thee to behold thy coast:
Yet how could I with adverse Fate engage,
And mighty Neptune's unrelenting rage?
Now lift thy longing eyes, while I restore
The pleasing prospect of thy native shore.
Behold the port of Phorcys! fenced around
With rocky mountains, and with olives crown'd:
Behold the gloomy grot! whose cool recess
Delights the Nereids of the neighbouring seas:
Whose now-neglected altars in thy reign
Blush'd with the blood of sheep and oxen slain.
Behold! where Neritus the clouds divides,
And shakes the waving forests on his sides.
She answer'd: In the dreadful day of fight
380 Know, I am with thee, strong in all my might,
If thou but equal to thyself be found,
What gasping numbers then shall press the ground!
What human victims stain the feastful floor!
How wide the pavements float with guilty gore!
It fits thee now to wear a dark disguise,
And secret walk unknown to mortal eyes.
For this, my hand shall wither every grace
And every elegance of form and face,
O'er thy smooth skin a bark of wrinkles spread,
390 Turn hoar the auburn honours of thy head;
Disfigure every limb with coarse attire,
And in thy eyes extinguish all the fire;
Add all the wants and the decays of life;
Estrange thee from thy own; thy son, thy wife;
From the loathed object every sight shall turn,
And the blind suitors their destruction scorn.
Go first the master of thy herds to find,
True to his charge, a loyal swain and kind
For thee he sighs: and to the royal heir
And chaste Penelope extends his care.
At the Coracian rock he now resides,
Where Arethusa's sable water glides;
The sable water and the copious mast
Swell the fat herd; luxuriant, large repast!
With him rest peaceful in the rural cell,
And all you ask his faithful tongue shall tell.
Me into other realms my cares convey,
To Sparta, still with female beauty gay;
For know, to Sparta thy loved offspring came,
410 To learn thy fortunes from the voice of Fame.
So spake the goddess; and the prospect clear'd,
The mists dispersed, and all the coast appear'd.
The king with joy confess'd his place of birth,
And on his knees salutes his mother earth;
Then, with his suppliant hands upheld in air
Thus to the sea-green sisters sends his prayer:
All hail! ye virgin daughters of the main!
Ye streams, beyond my hopes beheld again!
To you once more your own Ulysses bows;
Attend his transports, and receive his vows!
Full fifty pregnant females each contain'd;
480 The males without (a smaller race) remain'd;
Doom'd to supply the suitors' wasteful feast,
A stock by daily luxury decreased;
At this the father, with a father's care.
Must he too suffer? he, oh goddess! bear
Of wanderings and of woes a wretched share?
Through the wild ocean plough the dangerous way,
And leave his fortunes and his house a prey?
Why wouldst not thou, oh all-enlighten'd mind!
Inform him certain, and protect him, kind?
To whom Minerva. Be thy soul at rest;
And know, whatever heaven ordains, is best.
To Fame I sent him, to acquire renown;
To other regions is his virtue known:
Secure he sits, near great Atrides placed;
With friendships strengthen'd, and with honours
graced.
But lo! an ambush waits his passage o'er;
Fierce foes insidious intercept the shore;
In vain; far sooner all the murderous brood
This injured land shall fatten with their blood.
She spake, then touch'd him, with her powerful
wand:
The skin shrunk up, and wither'd at her hand;
A swift old age o'er all his members spread;
A sudden frost was sprinkled on his head;
Nor longer in the heavy eye-ball shined
The glance divine, forth-beaming from the mind.
His robe, which spots indelible besmear,
In rags dishonest flutters with the air:
A stag's torn hide is lapt around his reins:
A rugged staff his trembling hand sustains;
And at his side a wretched scrip was hung,
Wide-patch'd, and knotted to a twisted thong.
So look'd the chief, so moved to mortal eyes
Object uncouth! a man of miseries!
While Pallas, cleaving the wide fields of air,
To Sparta flies, Telemachus her care.
The Conversation with Eumæus.
Now scarce four hundred left. These to defend,
Four savage dogs, a watchful guard, attend.
Here sate Eumæus, and his cares applied
To form strong buskins of well-season'd hide.
Of four assistants who his labour share,
Three now were absent on the rural care;
The fourth drove victims to the suitor-train:
But he, of ancient faith, a simple swain,
Sigh'd, while he furnish'd the luxurious board,
And wearied heaven with wishes for his lord.
Soon as Ulysses near the inclosure drew,
With open mouths the furious mastiffs flew:
Down sate the sage, and cautious to withstand,
Let fall the offensive truncheon from his hand.
Sudden the master runs; aloud he calls;
And from his hasty hand the leather falls;
With showers of stones he drives them far away;
The scattering dogs around at distance bay.
Unhappy stranger! (thus the faithful swain
Began with accents gracious and humane)
What sorrow had been mine, if at my gate
Thy reverend age had met a shameful fate!
Enough of woes already have I known;
Enough my master's sorrows and my own.
While here (ungrateful task!) his herds I feed,
Ordain'd for lawless rioters to bleed;
Perhaps, supported at another's board,
Far from his country roams my hapless lord!
Or sigh'd in exile forth his latest breath,
510 Now cover'd with the eternal shade of death!
But enter this my homely roof, and see
Our woods not void of hospitality.
Ulysses arrives in disguise at the house of Eumæus where he is received, entertained, and lodged with the utmost hospitality. The several discourses of that faithful old servant, with the feigned story told by Ulysses to conceal himself, and other conversations on various subjects, take up this entire book.
BUT he, deep-musing, o'er the mountains stray'd
Through mazy thickets of the woodland shade,
And cavern'd ways, the shaggy coast along,
With cliffs and nodding forests overhung.
Eumæus at his sylvan lodge he sought,
A faithful servant, and without a fault.
Ulysses found him busied as he sate
Before the threshold of his rustic gate;
Around the mansion in a circle shone
A rural portico of rugged stone;
(In absence of his lord, with honest toil
His own industrious hands had raised the pile.)
The wall was stone, from neighbouring quarries
borne,
Encircled with a fence of native thorn,
And strong with pales, by many a weary stroke
Of stubborn labour, hewn from heart of oak:
Frequent and thick. Within the space were rear'd
Twelve ample cells, the lodgments of his herd.
Then tell me whence thou art, and what the share
Of woes and wanderings thou wert born to bear?
He said, and, seconding the kind request,
With friendly step precedes his unknown guest.
A shaggy goat's soft hide beneath him spread,
And with fresh rushes heap'd an ample bed:
Joy touch'd the hero's tender soul, to find
So just reception from a heart so kind :
And, oh, ye gods! with all your blessings grace
(He thus broke forth) this friend of human race!
The swain replied. It never was our guise
To slight the poor, or aught humane despise;
For Jove unfolds our hospitable door,
'Tis Jove that sends the stranger and the poor.
Little, alas! is all the good I can;
A man oppress'd, dependent, yet a man:
Accept such treatment as a swain affords,
Slave to the insolence of youthful lords!
Far hence is by unequal gods removed
That man of bounties, loving and beloved!
To whom whate'er his slave enjoys is owed,
And more, had Fate allow'd, had been bestow'd:
10 But Fate condemn'd him to a foreign shore;
Much have I sorrow'd, but my master more.
Now cold he lies, to death's embrace resign'd:
Ah, perish Helen! perish all her kind!
For whose cursed cause, in Agamemnon's name,
He trod so fatally the paths of Fame.
His vest succinct then girding round his waist,
Forth rush'd the swain with hospitable haste.
Straight to the lodgements of his herd he run,
Where the fat porkers slept beneath the sun:
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.ie/books/content?id=gzIhAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA427&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=divine&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U2rRrQPvQJrzvbRfJryJ3ZbHoqElw&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=895,78,29,758)
Of two, his cutlass launch'd the spouting blood;
These quarter'd, singed, and fix'd on forks of wood,
All hasty on the hissing coals he threw;
And, smoking, back the tasteful viands drew,
Broachers and all; then on the board display'd
The ready meal, before Ulysses laid
With flour imbrown'd; next mingled wine yet new,
And luscious as the bees' nectareous dew:
Then sate companion of the friendly feast,
With open look; and thus bespoke his guest.
Such thou may'st be. But he whose name you crave
Moulders in earth, or welters on the wave,
Or food for fish or dogs his relics lie,
90 Or torn by birds and scatter'd through the sky;
So perish'd he and left (for ever lost)
Much woe to all, but sure to me the most.
So mild a master never shall I find;
Less dear the parents whom I left behind;
Less soft my mother, less my father kind.
Not with such transport would my eyes run o'er,
Again to hail them in their native shore,
As loved Ulysses once more to embrace,
Restored and breathing in his natal place.
100 That name for ever dread, yet ever dear,
Even in his absence I pronounce with fear:
In my respect, he bears a prince's part:
But lives a very brother in my heart.
Take with free welcome what our hands prepare,
Such food as falls to simple servants' share;
The best our lords consume; those thoughtless peers,
Rich without bounty, guilty without fears;
Yet sure the gods their impious acts detest,
And honour justice and the righteous breast.
Pirates and conquerors of harden'd mind,
The foes of peace, and scourges of mankind,
To whom offending men are made a prey
When Jove in vengeance gives a land away:
Even these, when of their ill-got spoils possess'd,
Find sure tormentors in the guilty breast:
Some voice of god close whispering from within,
"Wretch! this is villany, and this is sin.”
But these, no doubt, some oracle explore,
That tells the great Ulysses is no more.
Hence springs their confidence, and from our sighs
Their rapine strengthens, and their riots rise:
Constant as Jove the night and day bestows,
Bleeds a whole hecatomb, a vintage flows.
None match'd this hero's wealth, of all who reign
O'er the fair islands of the neighbouring main.
Nor all the monarchs whose far dreaded sway
The wide-extended continents obey:
First, on the main-land, of Ulysses' breed,
Twelve herds, twelve flocks, on ocean's margin
feed;
Thus spoke the faithful swain, and thus rejoin'd
The master of his grief, the man of patient mind.
Ulysses, friend! shall view his old abodes,
(Distrustful as thou art,) nor doubt the gods.
Nor speak I rashly, but with faith averr'd,
And what I speak attesting heaven has heard.
If so, a cloak and vesture be my meed:
Till his return no title shall I plead,
Though certain be my news, and great my need.
Who want itself can force untruths to tell,
My soul detests him as the gates of hell.
Thou first be witness, hospitable Jove,
And every god inspiring social love!
And witness every household power that waits
Guard of these fires, and angel of these gates!
Ere the next moon decrease, or this decay,
120 His ancient realms Ulysses shall survey;
In blood and dust each proud oppressor mourn,
And the lost glories of his house return.
Nor shall that meed be thine, nor ever more
Shall loved Ulysses hail this happy shore,
(Replied Eumæus :) to the present hour
Now turn thy thought, and joys within our power.
From sad reflection let my soul repose;
The name of him awakes a thousand woes.
But guard him, gods! and to these arms restere!
Not his true consort can desire him more;
130 Not old Laërtes, broken with despair:
As many stalls for shaggy goats are rear'd;
As many lodgments for the tusky herd;
Those foreign keepers guard: and here are seen
Twelve herds of goats that graze our utmost green;
To native pastors is their charge assign'd,
And mine the care to feed the bristly kind:
Each day the fattest bleeds of either herd,
All to the suitors' wasteful board preferr❜d.
Thus he, benevolent: his unknown guest
With hunger keen devours the savoury feast;
While schemes of vengeance ripen in his breast.
Silent and thoughtful while the board he ey'd,
Eumæus pours on high the purple tide;
The king with smiling looks his joy express'd,
And thus the kind inviting host address'd:
Say now, what man is he, the man deplored,
So rich, so potent, whom you style your lord?
Not young Telemachus, his blooming heir.
Alas, Telemachus! my sorrows flow
Afresh for thee, my second cause of woe!
Like some fair plant set by a heavenly hand,
He grew, he flourish'd, and he bless'd the land;
In all the youth his father's image shined,
Bright in his person, brighter in his mind.
What man, or god, deceived his better sense,
Far on the swelling seas to wander hence?
Late with such affluence and possessions bless'd, 140 To distant Pylos hapless he is gone,
And now in honour's glorious bed at rest?
Whoever was the warrior, he must be
To Fame no stranger, nor perhaps to me;
Who (so the gods, and so the fates ordain'd)
Have wander'd many a sea, and many a land.
Small is the faith the prince and queen ascribe
(Replied Eumæus) to the wandering tribe.
For needy strangers still to flattery fly,
And want too oft betrays the tongue to lie.
Each vagrant traveller, that touches here,
Deludes with fallacies the royal ear,
To dear remembrance makes his image rise,
And calls the springing sorrows from her eyes.
To seek his father's fate, and find his own!
For traitors wait his way, with dire design
To end at once the great Arcesian line.
But let us leave him to their wills above;
The fates of men are in the hands of Jove.
And now, my venerable guest! declare
Your name, your parents, and your native air;
Sincere from whence begun your course relate,
And to what ship I owe the friendly freight?
150 Thus he and thus (with prompt invention bold)
The cautious chief his ready story told.
On dark reserve what better can prevail,
Or from the fluent tongue produce the tale,
Than when two friends, alone, in peaceful place
Confer, and wines and cates the table grace;
But most, the kind inviter's cheerful face?
Thus might we sit, with social goblets crown'd,
Till the whole circle of the year goes round;
Not the whole circle of the year would close
My long narration of a life of woes.
The fifth fair morn we stem the Ægyptian tide,
And tilting o'er the bay the vessels ride:
To anchor there my fellows I command,
And spies commission to explore the land.
But, sway'd by lust of gain, and headlong will,
The coasts they ravage, and the natives kill.
The spreading clamour to their city flies,
But such was heaven's high will! know then, I came And horse and foot in mingled tumult rise.
From sacred Crete, and from a sire of fame:
Castor Hylacides (that name he bore,)
Beloved and honour'd in his native shore;
Bless'd in his riches, in his children more.
Sprung of a handmaid, from a bought embrace,
I shared his kindness with his lawful race;
But when that fate which all must undergo
From earth removed him to the shades below,
The large domain his greedy sons divide,
And each was portion'd as the lots decide.
Little, alas! was left my wretched share
Except a house, a covert from the air:
But what by niggard Fortune was denied,
A willing widow's copious wealth supplied.
My valour was my plea, a gallant mind
That, true to honour, never lagg'd behind:
(The sex is ever to a soldier kind.)
Now wasting years my former strength confound,
And added woes have bow'd me to the ground;
Yet by the stubble you may guess the grain,
And mark the ruins of no vulgar man.
Me, Pallas gave to lead the martial storm,
And the fair ranks of battle to deform;
Me, Mars inspired to turn the foe to flight,
And tempt the secret ambush of the night.
Let ghastly Death in all his forms appear,
I saw him not, it was not mine to fear.
Before the rest I raised my ready steel;
The first I met, he yielded, or he fell.
But works of peace my soul disdain'd to bear,
The rural labour, or domestic care.
To raise the mast, the missile dart to wing,
And send swift arrows from the bounding string,
Were arts the gods made grateful to my mind;
Those gods, who turn (to various ends design'd)
The various thoughts and talents of mankind.
Before the Grecians touch'd the Trojan plain,
Nine times commander, or by land or main,
In foreign fields I spread my glory far,
Great in the praise, rich in the spoils of war:
Thence charged with riches, as increased in fame,
To Crete return'd an honourable name.
But when great Jove that direful war decreed,
Which roused all Greece, and made the mighty
Our states myself and Idomen employ
To lead their fleets, and carry death to Troy.
Nine years we warr'd; the tenth saw Ilion fall:
Homeward we sail'd, but heaven dispersed us all.
One only month my wife enjoy'd my stay;
So will'd the god who gives and takes away.
230 The reddening dawn reveals the circling fields,
Horrid with bristly spears, and glancing shields
Jove thunder'd on their side. Our guilty head
We turn'd to flight; the gathering vengeance spread
On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lie dead. 300
I then explored my thought, what course to prove
(And sure the thought was dictated by Jove:)
Oh, had he left me to that happier doom,
And saved a life of miseries to come!
The radiant helmet from my brows unlaced,
240 And low on earth my shield and javelin cast,
I meet the monarch with a suppliant's face,
Approach his chariot, and his knees embrace.
He heard, he saved, he placed me at his side;
My state he pitied, and my tears he dried,
Restrain'd the rage the vengeful foe express'd,
And turn'd the deadly weapons from my breast.
Pious! to guard the hospitable rite,
And fearing Jove whom mercy's works delight.
In Egypt thus with peace and plenty bless'd, 250 I lived (and happy still had lived) a guest.
On seven bright years successive blessings wait;
The next changed all the colour of my fate.
A false Phoenician, of insidious mind,
Versed in vile arts, and foe to human kind,
With semblance fair invites me to his home;
I seized the proffer (ever fond to roam :)
Domestic in his faithless roof I staid,
Till the swift sun his annual circle made.
To Lybia then he meditates the way;
260 With guileful art a stranger to betray,
And sell to bondage in a foreign land:
Much doubting, yet compell'd, I quit the strand
Through the mid seas the nimble pinnace sails
Aloof from Crete, before the northern gales;
But when remote her chalky cliffs we lost,
And far from ken of any other coast,
When all was wild expanse of sea and air;
Then doom'd high Jove due vengeance to prepare.
He hung a night of horrors o'er their head
(The shaded ocean blacken'd as it spread ;)
He launch'd the fiery bolt; from pole to pole
Broad burst the lightnings, deep the thunders roll;
In giddy rounds the whirling ship is toss'd,
And all in clouds of smothering sulphur lost.
As from a hanging rock's tremendous height,
The sable crows with intercepted flight
Drop headlong: scarr'd, and black with sulphurous
hue,
So from the deck are hurl'd the ghastly crew.
Such end the wicked found! but Jove's intent
Nine ships I mann'd, equipp'd with ready stores, 280 Was yet to save the oppress'd and innocent.
Intent to voyage to the Ægyptian shores;
In feast and sacrifice my chosen train
Six days consumed: the seventh we plough'd the
Crete's ample fields diminish to our eye;
Before the Boreal blast the vessels fly;
Safe through the level seas we sweep our way;
The steerman governs, and the ships obey;
Placed on the mast, (the last resource of life)
With winds and waves I held unequal strife;
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