HOMER'S ODYSSES. Translated according to the Greek By Geo: Chapman At mihi q ᵈ Vivo detraxerit Jnuida Turba Post obitum duplici foenore reddet Honos.  
Imprinted at London by Rich: Field, for Nathaniel Butter.    

TO THE MOST WORTHILY HONOURED▪ MY SINGULAR GOOD LORD, ROBERT, Earl of SOMERSET, Lord Chamberlain, etc.  
I Have adventured (Right Noble Earl) out of my utmost, and ever-vowed service to your Virtues, to entitle their Merits to the Patronage of Homer's English life: whose wished natural life, the great Macedon would have protected, as the spirit of his Empire,  
That he to his unmeasured mighty Acts,  
Might add a Fame as vast; and their extracts,  
In fires as bright, and endless as the stars,  
His breast might breath; and thunder out his wars.  
But that great monarchs love of fame and praise,  
Receives an envious Cloud in our foul days:  
For since our Great ones, cease themselves to do  
Deeds worth their praise; they hold it folly too,  
To feed their praise in others. But what can  
(Of all the gifts that are) be given to man,  
More precious than Eternity and Glory,  
Singing their praises, in vnsilenced story?  
Which No black Day, No Nation, nor no Age;  
No change of Time or Fortune, Force, nor Rage,  
Shall ever race? All which, the Monarch knew,  
Where Homer lived entitled, would ensue:  
— Cuius de gurgite vivo  
Combibit arcanos vatum 〈◊〉 turba furores, etc. 
Fx Angeli Politiani Amb●a.   
From whose deep Fount of life, the thirsty rout  
Of Thespian Prophets, have lain sucking out  
Their sacred rages. And as th'influent stone  
Of Father Ioues great and laborious Son,  
Lifts high the heavy Iron; and far implies  
The wide Orbs; that the Needle rectifies,  
In virtuous guide of every sea-driven course,  
To all aspiring, his one boundless force:  
So from one Homer, all the holy fire,  
That ever did the hidden heat inspire  
In each true Muse, came clearly sparkling down,  
And must for him, compose one flaming Crown.  
He, at Ioues Table set, fills out to us,  
Cups that repair Age, sad and minous;  
And gives it Built, of an eternal stand,  
With his all-sinewie Odyssaean hand.  
Shifts Time, and Fate; puts Death in Life's free state;  
And Life doth into Ages propagate.  
He doth in Men, the Gods affects inflame;  
His fuel Virtue, blown by Praise and Fame:  
And with the high souls, first impulsions driven,  
Breaks through rude Chaos, Earth, the Seas, and Heaven.  
The Nerves of all things hid in Nature, lie  
Naked before him; all their Harmony  
Tuned to his Accents; that in Beasts breath Minds.  
What Fowls, what Floods, what Earth, what Air, what Winds,  
What fires ethereal, what the Gods conclude  
In all their Counsels, his Muse makes endued  
With varied voices, that e●en rocks have moved.  
And yet for all this, (naked Virtue loved)  
Honours without her, he, as abject, prizes;  
And foolish Fame, derived from thence, despises.  
When from the vulgar, taking glorious bound,  
Up to the Mountain, where the Muse is crowned;  
He sits and laughs, to see the jaded Rabble,  
Toil to his hard heights, 
Thus far Angel. Politianus, for the most part translated.  t'all access unable. etc.  
And that your Lordship may in his Face, take view of his Mind: the first word of his Iliads, is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 wrath: the first word of his Odysseys, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Man: contracting in either word, his each works Proposition. In one, Predominant Perturbation; in the other, overruling Wisdom: in one, the Body's fervour and fashion of outward Fortitude, to all possible height of Heroical Action; in the other, the Minds inward, constant, and unconquerd Empire; unbroken, unaltered, with any most insolent, and tyrannous infliction. To many most sooner aigne praises is this Poem entitled; but to that Grace in chief, which sets on the Crown, both of Poets and Orators; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: that is, parva magnè dicere; pervulgata nouè; ieiuna plenè: To speak things little, greatly; things common, rarely; things barren and empty, fruitfully and fully. The return of a man into his Country, is his whole scope and object; which, in itself, your Lordship may well say, is ieiune and fruitless enough; affording nothing feastful, nothing magnificent. And yet even this, doth the divine inspiration, render vast, illustrious, and of miraculous composure. And for this (my Lord) is this Poem preferred to his Iliads: for therein much magnificence, both of person and action, gives great aid to his industry; but in this, are these helps, exceeding sparing, or nothing; and yet is the Structure so elaborate, and pompous, that the poor plain Groundwork (considered together) may seem the naturally rich womb to it, and produce it needfully. Much wondered at therefore, is the Censure of Dionysius Longimus (a man otherwise affirmed, grave, and of elegant judgement) comparing Homer in his Iliads, to the Sun rising; in his Odysseys, to his descent or setting. Or to the Ocean robbed of his aesture; many tributory floods and rivers of excellent ornament, withheld from their observance. When this his work so far exceeds the Ocean, with all his Court and concourse; that all his Sea, is only a serviceable stream to it. Nor can it be compared to any One power to be named in nature; being an entirely wel-sorted and digested Confluence of all. Where the most solid and grave, is made as nimble and fluent, as the most airy and fiery; the nimble and fluent, as firm and well bounded as the most grave and solid. And (taking all together) of so tender impression, and of such Command to the voice of the Muse; that they knock heaven with her breath, and discover their foundations as low as hell. Nor is this all-comprising Poesy, fantastic, or mere fictive; but the most material, and doctrinal illations of Truth; both for all manly information of Manners in the young; all prescription of justice, and even Christian piety, in the most grave and high-governd. To illustrate both which, in both kinds, with all height of expression, the Poet creates both a Body and a Soul in them. Wherein, if the Body (being the letter, or history) seems fictive, and beyond Possibility to bring into Act: the sense then and Allegory (which is the Soul) is to be sought: which intends a more eminent expressure of Virtue, for her loveliness; and of Vice for her ugliness, in their sever all effects; going beyond the life, than any Art within life, can possibly delineate. Why then is Fiction, to this end, so hateful to our true Ignorants? Or why should a poor Chronicler of a Lord majors naked Truth, (that peradventure will last his year) include more worth with our modern wizards, than Homer for his naked Ulysses, clad in eternal Fiction? But this Prozer Dionysius, and the rest of these grave, and reputatively learned, (that dare undertake for their gravities, the headstrong censure of all things; and challenge the understanding of these Toys in their childhoods: when even these childish vanities, retain deep and most necessary learning enough in them, to make them children in their ages, and teach them while they live) are not in these absolutely di●ine Infusions, allowed either voice or relish: for, Qui Poeticas ad fores accedit, etc. (says the Divine Philosopher) he that knocks at the Gates of the Muses; sine Musarum furore; is neither to be admitted entry, nor a touch at their Thresholds: his opinion of entry, ridiculous, and his presumption impious. Nor must Poets themselves (might I a little insist on these contempts▪ not tempting too far your Lordship's Vlyssean patience) presume to these doors, without the truly genuine, and peculiar induction▪ There being in Poesy a twofold rapture, (or alienation of soul, as the abovesaid Te●cher terms it) one Insania, a disease of the mind, and a mere madness, by which the infected is thrust beneath all the degrees of humanity: & ex homine, Brutum quodammodo redditur: (for which, poor Poesy, in this diseased and impostorous age, is so barbarously vilified) the other is, Divinus furor; by which the sound and 〈◊〉 healthful, supra hominis naturam erigitur, & in Deum transit. One a perfection directly infused from God: the other an infection, obliquely and degenerately proceeding from man. Of the divine Fury (my Lord) your Homer hath ever been, both first and last Instance; being pronounced absolutely, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; the most wise and most divine Poet. Against whom, whosoever shall open his profane mouth, may worthily receive answer, with this of his divine defender; (Empedocles, Heraclitus, Protagoras, Epichar: etc. being of Homer's part) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. who against such an Army, and the General Homer dares attempt the assault, but he must be reputed ridiculous? And yet against this host, and this invincible Commander, shall we have every Besogne and fool a Leader. The common herd (I assure myself) ready to receive it on their horns. Their infected Leaders,  
Such men, as sideling ride the ambling Muse;  
Whose saddle is as frequent as the stuse.  
Whose Raptures are in every Pageant seen;  
In every Wassall rhyme, and Dancing green:  
When he that writes by any beam of Truth,  
Must dive as deep as he; past shallow youth.  
Truth dwells in Gulfs, whose Deeps hide shades so rich,  
That Night sits muffled there, in clouds of pitch:  
More Dark than Nature made her; and requires  
(To clear her tough mists) Heavens great fire of fires;  
To whom, the Sun itself is but a Beam.  
For sick souls then (but rapt in foolish Dream)  
To wrestle with these Heau'n-strong mysteries;  
What madness is it? when their light, serves eyes  
That are not worldly, in their least aspect;  
But truly pure; and aim at Heaven, direct.  
Yet these, none like; but what the brazen head  
Blatters abroad; no sooner borne, but dead.  
Holding then in eternal contempt (my Lord) those short-lived Bubbles; eternize your virtue and judgement with the Grecian Monarch; esteeming, not as the least of your newyears Presents,  
Homer (three thousand years dead) now reviv'd,  
Even from that dull Death, that in life he lived;  
When none conceited him; none understood,  
That so much life, in so much death as blood  
Conueys about it, could mix. But when Death  
Drunk up the bloody Mist, that human breath  
Poured round about him (Poverty and Spite,  
Thickening the hapless vapour) than Truth's light  
Glimmerd about his Poem: the pinched soul,  
(Amidst the Mysteries it did enroll)  
Broke powerfully abroad. And as we see  
The Sun all hid in clouds, at length, got free,  
Through some forced covert, over all the ways,  
Near and beneath him, shoots his vented rays  
far off, and sticks them in some little Glade;  
All woods, fields, rivers, left beside in shade:  
So your Apollo, from that world of light,  
Closed in his Poem's body; shot to sight  
Some few forced Beams; which near him, were not seen,  
(As in his life or country) Fate and Spleen,  
Clouding their radiance; which when Death had cleared;  
To far off Regions, his free beams appeared:  
In which, all stood and wondered; striving which,  
His Birth and Rapture, should in right enrich.  
Twelve Labours of your Thespian Hercules,  
I now present your Lordship: Do but please  
To lend Life means, till th'other Twelve receive  
Equal achievement; and let Death then reave  
My life now lost in our Patrician loves,  
That knock heads with the herd: in whom there moves  
One blood, one soul: both drowned in one set height  
Of stupid Envy, and mere popular Spite.  
Whose loves, with no good, did my least vein fill;  
And from their hates, ● I fear as little ill.  
Their Boun●●es nourish not, when most they feed,  
But where there is no Merit, or no Need:  
Rain into rivers still; and are such showers,  
As bubbles spring, and overflow the flowers.  
Their worse parts, and worst men, their Best suborns,  
Like winter cows, whose milk runs to their horns.  
And as litigious Clients books of Law,  
Cost infinitely; taste of all the Awe,  
Bencht in our kingdoms Policy, Piety, State;  
Earn all their deep exploring; satiate  
All sorts there thrust together by the heart,  
With thirst of wisdom, spent on either part:  
Horrid examples made of Life and Death,  
From their fine stuff woven: yet when once the breath  
Of sentence leaves them, all their worth is drawn  
As dry as dust; and wears like Cobweb Lawn:  
So these men set a price upon their worth,  
That no man gives, but those that trot it forth,  
Through Needs foul ways; feed Humours, with all cost,  
Though judgement starves in them: Rout: State engrossed  
(At all Tobacco benches, solemn Tables,  
Where all that cross their envies, are their fables)  
In their rank faction: Shame, and Death approved  
Fit Penance for their Opposites: none loved  
But those that rub them: not a Reason heard,  
That doth not sooth and glorify their preferred  
Bitter Opinions. When, would Truth resume  
The cause to his hands; all would fly in fume  
Before his sentence; since the innocent mind,  
Just God makes good; to whom their worst is wind.  
For, that I freely all my Thoughts express,  
My Conscience is my Thousand witnesses:  
And to this stay, my constant Comforts vow;  
You for the world I have, or God for you.   

Certain ancient Greek Epigrams Translated.  

〈◊〉 stars are 〈◊〉 up by the fiery S●nne;  
And in so much a flame, lies 〈◊〉 the Moon::  
〈…〉 Name, all 〈…〉 Death;  
〈…〉   

Another.  
heavens fires 〈…〉 〈◊〉 his Sphere;  
Grave Night, the light ●eed of the Day shall 〈◊〉:  
Fresh streams shall chase the 〈…〉 shall tear  
Her fishie bottoms: Men, in long date dead,  
Shall rise, and 〈…〉   

Another.  
The great Maeonides doth only write;  
And to him dictates, the great God of Light.   

Another.  
Seven kingdoms str●●e, in which should swell the womb  
That bore great Homer; whom Fame freed from Tomb:  
Argos, Chius, Pylos, Smyrna, Colophone;  
The learned Athenian, and Vlyssean Throne.   

Another.  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉    

THE FIRST BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
THe Gods in counsel sit, to call  
Ulysses from Calypso's thrall;  
And order their high pleasures, thus;  
Grey Pallas, to Telemachus  
(In Ithaca) her way addressed;  
And did her heavenly limbs invest  
In Menta's likeness; that did reign  
King of the Taphians (in the Main,  
Whose rough waves near Leucadia run)  
Advising wise Ulysses' son  
To seek his father; and address  
His course to young Tantalides  
That governed Sparta. Thus much said,  
She showed she was Hea●'ns martial Maid,  
And vanished from him. Next to this,  
The Banquet of the wooers is.  
Another.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
The Deities sit;  
The Man retired▪  
Th'ulyssean wit,  
By Pallas fired.  
THe Man (O Muse) inform, that many a way,  
Wound with his wisdom to his wished stay.  
That wandered wondrous far, 
The information or fashion of an absolute man, and necessary (or fatal) passage through many afflictions (according with the most sacred Le●ter) to his natural haven and country; i● the whole argument; and scope of the 〈…〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 given him in the first verse: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ Homo ●●ius ingenium velut per mult●s, & vari●● 〈…〉.  when, He, the town  
Of sacred Troy, had sacked, and shiverd down.  
The cities of a world of nations,  
With all their manners, minds, and fashions  
He saw and knew. At Sea felt many woes;  
Much care sustained, to save from overthrows  
Himself, and friends, in their retreat for home.  
But so, their fates, he could not overcome,  
Though much he thirsted it. O men unwise,  
They perished by their own impieties,  
That in their hunger's rapine would not shun  
The Oxen of the loftie-going Sun:  
Who therefore from their eyes, the day bereft  
Of safe return. These acts in some part left,  
Tell us, as others, deified seed of jove.  
Now all the rest that austere Death out-strove  
At Troy's long siege, at home safe anchored are,  
Free from the malice both of sea and war;  
Only Ulysses is denied access  
To wife and home. The Grace of Goddesses  
The reverend Nymph C●lypso did detain  
Him in her Ca●●es: past all the race of men,  
Inflamed to make him her loved Lord and Spouse.  
And when the Gods had destined that his house,  
Which Ithaca on her rough bosom bears,  
(The point of time wrought out by ambient years)  
Should be his haven; Contention still extends  
Her envy to him, even amongst his friends.  
All Gods took pity on him: only he  
That girds Earth in the cincture of the sea,  
Divine Ulysses ever did envy,  
And made the fixed port of his birth to fly.  
But he himself solemnized a retreat  
To th'Aethiops, 
Neptune's progress to the Aethiops.  far dissunderd in their seat;  
(In two parts parted; at the suns descent,  
And underneath his golden Orient,  
The first and last of men) t'enjoy their feast  
Of bulls and lambs, 
These ●●tes following, I am enforced to insert, (since the words they contain, differ from all other translations) lest I be thought 〈◊〉 err out of that ignorance, that may perhaps possess my 〈◊〉.  in Hecatombs addressed:  
At which he sat, given over to Delight.  
The other Gods, in heavens supremest height  
Were all in Council met: To whom began  
The mighty Father, both of God and man,  
Discourse, inducing matter, that inclined  
To wise Ulysses; calling to his mind  

a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 translated in this place, inculpabilis; 〈◊〉 made the epithet of Aegist●●●●; is from the true 〈◊〉 of the word, as it is here to be understood: which is quite contrary. As 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is to be expounded in some place Divinus, or Deo 〈◊〉; but in another (soon after) contrarius Deo. The person to whom the ●●pithete is given, giving reason to distinguish it And so 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 an Epithet given to Atlas, instantly following, in one place signifies Mente pern●cio●us: in the next, qui vn● uer●a ●●ente gerit●  Faultful Aegisthus, who to death was done,  
By young Orestes, Agamemnon's son.  
His memory to the Immortals then,  
Moved jove thus deeply: O how falsely, men  
Accuse us Gods, as authors of their ill,  
When, by the bane their own bad lives instill,  
They suffer all the miseries of their states,  
Past our inflictions, and beyond their fates.  
As now Aegisthus, past his fate, did wed  
The wife of Agamemnon; and (in dread  
To suffer death himself) to shun his ill,  
Incurred it by the loose bent of his will,  
In slaughtering Atrides in retreat.  
Which, we foretold him, would so hardly set  
To his murderous purpose; sending Mercury  
(That slaughtered Argus) our considerate spy,  
To give him this charge: Do not wed his wife,  
Nor murder him; for thou shalt buy his life,  
With ransom of thine own; imposed on thee  
By his Orestes; when, in him shall be  
Atrides self renewed; and but the prime  
Of youths spring put abroad; in thirst to climb  
His haughty Father's throne, by his high acts.  
These words of Hermes, wrought not into facts  
Aegisthus powers; good counsel he despised,  
And to that Good, his ill is sacrificed.  
Pall●s (whose eyes did sparkle like the skies)  
Answered: 
Pallas to jupiter.  O Sire! supreme of Deities;  
Aegisthus past his Fate, and had desert  
To warrant our infliction; and convert  
May all the pains, such impious men inflict  
On innocent sufferers; to revenge as strict,  
Their own hearts eating. But, that Ithacus  
(Thus never meriting) should suffer thus;  
I deeply suffer. His more pious mind  
Divides him from these fortunes. Though unkind  
Is Piety to him, giving him a fate,  
More suffering then the most infortunate;  
So long kept friendless, in a sea-girt soil,  
Where the seas navile is a sylvan I'll,  
In which the Goddess dwells, that doth derive  
Her birth from Atlas; who, of all alive,  
The motion and the fashion doth command,  
With his 
b In this place is Atlas given the Epithet. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which signifies qui universa mente agitat, here given him, for the power the stars h●ue in all things. Yet this receives other interpretation in other places, as above said.  wise mind, whose forces understand  
The inmost deeps and gulfs of all the seas:  
Who (for his skill of things superior) stays  
The two steep Columns that ●rop earth and heaven.  
His daughter 'tis, who holds this 
c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is here turned by others, infelix: in the general collection: when it hath here a particular exposition, applied to express Ulysses' desert errors, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, ut sit, qui vix locum invenire potest ubi consistat.  homelesse-driven,  
Still mourning with her. Evermore profuse  
Of soft and winning speeches; that abuse  
And make so 
d This is thus translated, the rather to express and approve the Allegory driven through the whole Odysseys. Deciphering the entangling of the wisest in his affections: and the torments that breed in every pious mind: to be thereby hindered to arrive so directly as he desires, at the proper and only true natural country of every worthy man, whose ha●en i● heaven and the next life, to which, this life is but a sea, in continual ●●sture and vexation. The words occasioning all this, are 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifying, qui languid, & animo remisso rem aliquam gerit: which being the effect of Calypsos sweet words in Ulysses, is where applied passively to his own sufferance of their operation.  languishingly, and possessed  
With so remiss a mind; her loved guest  
Manage the action of his way for home.  
Where he (though in affection overcome)  
In judgement yet; more longs to show his hopes,  
His country's smoke leap from her chimney tops,  
And death asks in her arms. Yet never shall  
Thy loved heart be converted on his thrall,  
(Austere Oly 〈◊〉:) did not ever he,  
In ample Troy, thy altars gratify?  
And Grecians Fleet make in thy offerings swim?  
O 〈◊〉, why still then burns thy wrath to him?  
The Cloud-assembler answered: 
〈◊〉 to P●ll●●  What words fly  
(Bold daughter) from thy Pale of 
e 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 vallum 〈◊〉 cl●●strum denti●●: which, for the better sound in our language, is here turned, Pale of Iv●rie. The teeth being that rampire or pale, given us by nature in that part, for restraint and compression of our speech, till the imagination, appetite and soul (that aught to rule in their examination, before their delivery) have giue● worthy pass to them. The most grave and di●ine Poet, teaching therein, that not so much for the necessary chewing of our sustenance, our teeth are given us, as for their stay of our words, le●t we utter them rashly.  Ivory?  
As if I ever could cast from my care  
Divine Ulysses, who exceeds so far  
All men in wisdom? and so oft hath given  
To all th'Immortals throned in ample heaven,  
So great and sacred gifts? But his decrees,  
That holds the earth in with his nimble knees,  
Stand to Ulysses' longings so extreme,  
For taking from the God-foe Polyphe●e  
His only eye; a Cyclops, that excelled  
All other Cyclops: with whose burden swelled  
The Nymph Th●osa; the divine increase  
Of Phorcis seed, a great God of the seas.  
She mixed with Neptune in his hollow caves,  
And bore this Cyclops to that God of waves.  
For whose lost eye, th'Earth-shaker did not kill  
Erring Ulysses; but reserves him still  
In life for more death. But use we our powers,  
And round about us cast these cares of ours,  
All to discover how we may prefer  
His wished retreat; and Nept●ne make forbear  
His stern eye to him: since no one God can  
In spite of all, prevail, but 'gainst a man.  
To this, this answer made the grey-eyed Maid:  
Supreme of rulers, since so well apaid  
The blessed Gods are all then, now, in thee  
To limit wise Ulysses' misery;  
And that you speak, as you referred to me  
Prescription for the means; in this sort be  
Their sacred order: let us now address  
With utmost speed, our swift Argicides,  
To tell the Nymph that bears the golden Tresle  
In th'isle Ogygia, 
Calypso.  that 'tis our will  
She should not stay our loved Ulysses still;  
But suffer his return: and then will I  
To Ithaca, to make his son apply  
His Sires inquest the more; infusing force  
Into his soul, to summon the concourse  
Of curld-head greeks to counsel: and deter  
Each wooer that hath been the slaughterer  
Of his fat sheep and crooked-headed beeves,  
From more wrong to his mother; and their leaves  
Take in such terms, as fit deserts so great.  
To Sparta then, and Pylos, where doth beat  
Bright Amathus, the flood and epithet  
To all that kingdom; my advice shall send  
The spirit-aduanced Prince, to the pious end  
Of seeking his lost father; if he may  
Receive report from Fame, where rests his stay;  
And make, beside, his own successive worth,  
Known to the world; 
The preparatiou of Pallas for Ithaca.  and set in action forth.  
This said, her winged shoes to her feet she tied,  
Formed all of gold, and all eternified;  
That on the round earth, or the sea, sustained  
Her ravished substance, swift as gusts of wind.  
Then took she her strong Lance, with steel made keen,  
Great, massy, active, that whole hosts of men  
(Though all Heroes) conquers; if her ire  
Their wrongs inflame, backed by so great a Sire.  
Down from Olympus tops, she headlong dived;  
And swift as thought, in Ithaca arrived,  
Close at Ulysses' gates; in whose first court,  
She made her stand; 
Pallas, like Mentas.  and for her breasts support,  
Leaned on her iron Lance: her form impressed  
With Mentas likeness, come, as being a guest.  
There found she those proud wooers, that were then  
Set on those Oxe-hides that themselves had slain,  
Before the gates; and all at dice were playing.  
To them the heralds, and the rest obeying,  
Filled wine and water; some, still as they played;  
And some, for solemn suppers stare, puruaid;  
With porous sponges, cleansing tables, served  
With much rich feast; of which to all they carved.  
Godlike Telemachus, amongst them sat,  
Grieved much in mind; and in his heart begat  
All representment of his absent Sire;  
How (come from far-off parts) his spirits would fire  
With those proud wooers sight, with slaughter parting  
Their bold concourse; and to himself converting  
The honours they usurped, his own commanding.  
In this discourse, he, first, saw Pallas standing  
Unbidden entry: up rose, and addressed  
His pace right to her; angry that a guest  
Should stand so long at gate: and coming near,  
Her right hand took; took in his own, her spear;  
And thus saluted: Grace to your repair,  
(Fair guest) your welcome shall be likewise fair.  
Enter, and (cheered with feast) disclose th'intent  
That caused your coming. This said; first he went,  
And Pallas followed. To a room they came,  
Steep, and of state; the javelin of the Dame,  
He set against a pillar, vast and high,  
Amidst a large and bright-kept armory,  
Which was, beside, with woods of Lances graced,  
Of his grave fathers. In a throne, he placed  
The man-turnd Goddess; under which was spread  
A Carpet, rich, and of devicefull thread;  
A footstool staying her feet; and by her chair,  
Another seat (all garnished wondrous fair,  
To rest, or sleep on in the day) he set  
far from the press of wooers; lest at meat  
The noise they still made, might offend his guest,  
Disturbing him at banquet or at rest,  
Even to his combat, with that pride of theirs,  
That kept no noble form in their affairs.  
And these he set far from them, much the rather  
To question freely of his absent father.  
A Table fairly polished then, was spread,  
On which a reverend officer set bread;  
And other servitors, all sorts of meat,  
(Salads, and flesh, such as their haste could get)  
Served with observance in. And then the S●wre,  
Prowred water from a great and golden Ewer,  
That from their hands, t'a silver Cauldron ran;  
Both washed, and seated close; the voicefull man  
Fetched cups of gold, and set by them; and round  
Those cups with wine, with all endeavour crowned.  
Then rushed in the rude wooers; themselves placed;  
The herald's water gave; the maids in haste  
Served bread from baskets. When, of all prepared,  
And set before them; the bold wooers shared;  
Their Pages plying their cups, past the rest.  
But lusty wooers must do more than feast;  
For now (their hungers and their thirsts allayed)  
They called for songs, and Dances. Those, they said,  
Were th'ornaments of feast. The herald straight  
A Harp, carved full of artificial sleight,  
Thrust into Phemius (a learned singers) hand,  
Who, till he much was urged, on terms did stand;  
But after, played and sung with all his art.  
Telemachus, 
Telemachus to Pallas.  to Pallas then (apart,  
His ear inclining close, that none might hear)  
In this sort said: My Guest, exceeding dear,  
Will you not sit incensed, with what I say?  
These are the cares these men take; feast and play:  
Which easily they may use, because they eat,  
Free, and unpunished, of another's meat.  
And of a man's, whose white bones wasting lie  
In some far region, with th'incessancy  
Of showers poured down upon them; lying ashore;  
Or in the seas washed naked. Who, if he wore  
Those bones with flesh, and life, and industry;  
And these, might here in Ithaca, set eye  
On him returned; they all would wish to be,  
Either past other, in celerity  
Of feet and knees; and not contend t'exceed  
In golden garments. But his virtues feed  
The fate of ill death: nor is left to me  
The least hope of his life's recovery;  
No not, if any of the mortal race  
Should tell me his return; the cheerful face  
Of his returned day, never will appear.  
But tell me; and let Truth, your witness bear;  
Who? and from whence you are? what city's birth?  
What parents? In what vessel set you forth?  
And with what mariners arrived you here?  
I cannot think you a foot passenger.  
Recount then to me all; to teach me well,  
Fit usage for your worth. And if it fell  
In chance now first that you thus see us here,  
Or that in former passages you were  
My father's guest? For many men have been  
Guests to my father. Studious of men,  
His sociable nature ever was.  
On him again, 
Pallas to 〈◊〉.  the grey-eyed Maid did pass  
This kind reply; I'll answer passing true,  
All thou hast asked: My birth, his honour drew  
From wise Anchialus. The name I bear,  
Is Mentas, the commanding Islander  
Of all the Taphians, studious in the art  
Of Navigation. Having touched this part  
With ship and men; of purpose to maintain  
Course through the dark seas, other languaged men.  
And Temesis sustains the city's name,  
For which my ship is bound; made known by fame,  
For rich in brass; which my occasions need;  
And therefore bring I shining steel in steed,  
Which their use wants; yet makes my vessels fraught;  
That near a ploughed field, rides at anchors weight,  
Apart this city, in the harbour called  
Rethrus, whose waves, with Neius woods are walled.  
Thy Sire and I, were ever mutual guests,  
At either's house, still interchanging feasts.  
I glory in it. Ask, when thou shalt see  
Laertes, th'old Her●e, these of me,  
From the beginning. He, men say, no more  
Visits the City; but will needs deplore  
His sons believed loss, in a private field;  
One old maid only, at his hands to yield  
Food to his life, as oft as labour makes  
His old limbs faint; which though he creeps, he takes  
Along a fruitful plain, set all with vines,  
Which, husbandman-like (though a King) he prunes.  
But now I come to be thy father's guest;  
I hear he wanders, while these wooers feast.  
And (as th'Immortals prompt me at this hour)  
I'll tell thee, out of a prophetic power,  
(Not as professed a Prophet, nor clear seen  
At all times, what shall after chance to men)  
What I conceive, for this time, will be true:  
The God's inflictions keep your Sire from you.  
Divine Ulysses, yet, abides not dead  
Above earth, nor beneath; nor buried  
In any seas, (as you did late conceive)  
But, with the broad sea sieged, is kept alive  
Within an I'll, by rude and upland men,  
That in his spite, his passage home detain.  
Yet long it shall not be, before he tread  
His country's dear earth; though solicited,  
And held from his return, with iron chains.  
For he hath wit to forge a world of trains,  
And will, of all, be sure to make good one,  
For his return, so much relied upon.  
But tell me, and be true: Art thou indeed  
So much 
f 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Tantus filius. Pallas thus enforcing her question▪ to stir up the son the more to the father's worthiness.  a son, as to be said the seed  
Of Ithacus himself? Exceeding much  
Thy forehead and fair eyes, at his form touch:  
For oftentimes we met, as you and I  
Meet at this hour; before he did apply  
His powers for Troy. When other Grecian States,  
In hollow ships were his associates.  
But since that time, mine eyes could never see  
Renowned Ulysses; nor met his with me.  
The wise Telemachus 
Telemachus to Pallas.  again replied:  
You shall withal I know, be satisfied.  
My mother, certain, says I am his son:  
I know not; nor was ever simply known  
By any child, the sure truth of his Sire.  
But would my veins had took in living fire  
From some man happy, rather than one wise,  
Whom age might see seized, of what youth made prize.  
But he, whoever of the mortal race  
Is most unblessed, he holds my father's place.  
This, since you ask, I answer. She, again:  
The Gods sure did not make the future strain  
Both of thy race and days, 
Pallas to Telemachus.  obscure to thee,  
Since thou wert borne so of Penelope.  
The style may by thy after acts be won,  
Of so great Sire, the high undoubted son.  
Say truth in this then: what's this feasting here?  
What all this rout? Is all this nuptial cheer?  
Or else some friendly banquet made by thee?  
For here no shots are, where all sharers be.  
Past measure contumeliously, this crew  
Fare through thy house; which should th'ingenuous view  
Of any good or wise man come and find,  
(Impiety seeing played in every kind)  
He could not but through every vein be moved.  
Again Telemachus: My guest much loved,  
Since you demand and sift these sights so far;  
I grant 'twere fit, a house so regular,  
Rich, and so faultless, once in government,  
Should still, at all parts, the same form present,  
That gave it glory, while her Lord was here.  
But now the Gods, that us displeasure bear,  
Have otherwise appointed; and disgrace  
My father most, of all the mortal race.  
For whom I could not mourn so, were he dead,  
Amongst his fellow Captains slaughtered  
By common enemies; or in the hands  
Of his kind friends, had ended his commands;  
After he had egregiously bestowed  
His power and order in a war so vowed;  
And to his tomb, all greeks their grace had done;  
That to all ages he might leave his son  
Immortal honour: but now Harpies have  
Digged in their gorges his abhorred grave.  
Obscure, inglorious, Death hath made his end;  
And me (for glories) to all griefs contend.  
Nor shall I any more mourn him alone;  
The Gods have given me other cause of moan.  
For look how many Optimates remain  
In Samos, or the shores Dulichian,  
Shady Zacynthus; or how many bear  
Rule in the rough brows of this Island here▪  
So many now, my mother and this house,  
At all parts make defamed and ruinous.  
And she, her hateful nuptials, nor denies,  
Nor will dispatch their importunities:  
Though she beholds them spoil still, as they feast,  
All my free house yields: and the little rest  
Of my dead Sire in me, perhaps intent  
To bring, ere long, to some untimely end.  
This Pallas sighed, and answered: O (said she)  
Absent Ulysses is much missed by thee:  
That on these shameless suitors he might lay  
His wreakful hands. Should he now come, and stay  
In thy Courts first gates, armed with helm and shield,  
And two such darts as I have seen him wield,  
When first I saw him in our Taphian Court,  
Feasting, and doing his deserts disport;  
When from Ephyrus he returned by us  
From Il●s, son to Centaur Mer●●rus;  
To whom he traveled through the watery dreads,  
For bane to poison his sharp arrows heads,  
That death, but touched, caused; which he would not give,  
Because he feared, the Gods that ever live,  
Would plague such death with death; and yet their fear  
Was to my father's bosom not so dear  
As was thy father's love; (for what he sought,  
My loving father found him, to a thought.)  
If such as then, Ulysses might but meet  
With these proud wooers; all were at his feet  
But instant dead men; and their nuptials  
Would prove as bitter as their dying galls.  
But these things in the God's knees are reposed,  
If his return shall see with wreak enclosed,  
These in his house, or he return no more.  
And therefore I advise thee to explore  
All ways thyself, to set these wooers gone;  
To which end give me fit attention;  
To morrow into solemn council call  
The Greek Heroes; and declare to all  
(The Gods being witness) what thy pleasure is:  
Command to towns of their nativities,  
These frontless wooers. If thy mother's mind,  
Stands to her second nuptials, so inclined;  
Return she to her royal father's towers,  
Where th'one of these may wed her, and her dowers  
Make rich, and such as may consort with grace,  
So dear a daughter, of so great a race.  
And thee I warn as well, (if thou as well  
Wilt hear and follow) take thy best built sail,  
With twenty owers manned, and haste t'inquire  
Where the abode is of thy absent Sire;  
If any can inform thee, or thine ear  
From Io●e the fame of his retreat may hear;  
(For chiefly jove gives all that honour's men).  
To Pylos first be thy addression then  
To godlike Nestor. Thence, to Sparta, haste  
To gold-lockt Menelaus, who was last  
Of all the brasse-armd greeks that sailed from Troy.  
And try from both these, if thou canst enjoy  
News of thy Sires returned life, any where,  
Though sad thou sufferest in his search, a year.  
If of his death thou hearest, return thou home;  
And to his memory erect a tomb:  
Performing parent-rites, of feast and game,  
Pompous, and such as best may fit his fame:  
And then thy mother a fit husband give.  
These past, consider how thou mayst deprive  
Of worthless life, these wooers in thy house;  
By open force, or projects enginous.  
Things childish fit not thee; thouart so no more:  
Hast thou not heard, how all men did adore  
Divine Orestes, after he had slain  
Aegisthus, murdering by a treacherous train  
His famous father? Be then (my most loved)  
Valiant and manly; every way approved  
As great as he. I see thy person fit▪  
Nobulle thy mind, and excellent thy wit;  
All given thee, so to use and manage here,  
That even past death they may their memories bear.  
In mean time I'll descend to ship and men,  
That much expect me. Be observant then  
Of my advice, and careful to maintain  
In equal acts thy royal father's reign.  
Telemachus replied: You open (fair Guest)  
A friend's heart, in your speech; as well expressed,  
As might a father serve t'inform his son:  
All which▪ sure place have in my memory won.  
Abide yet, though your voyage calls away;  
That having bathed; and dignifide your stay  
With some more honour; you may yet beside,  
Delight your mind, by being gratified your stay  
With some rich Present, taken in your way;  
That, as a jewel, your respect may lay  
Up in your treasury; bestowed by me,  
As free friends use to guests of such degree.  
Detain me not (said she) so much inclined  
To haste my voyage. What thy loved mind  
Commands to give; at my return this way,  
Bestow on me; that I directly may  
Convey it home; which (more of price to me)  
The more it asks my recompense to thee.  
This said, away grey-eyed Minerva flew,  
Like to a mounting Lark; and did endue  
His mind with strength and boldness; and much more  
Made him, his father long for, then before.  
And weighing better who his guest might be,  
He stood amazed, and thought a Deity  
Was there descended: to whose will he framed  
His powers at all parts; and went, so inflamed  
Amongst the wooers; who were silent set,  
To hear a Poet sing the sad retreat  
The greeks performed from Tr●y: which was from thence  
Proclaimed by Pallas, pain of her offence.  
When which divine song, was perceived to bear  
That mournful subject, by the listening ear  
Of wi●e Penelope (Icarian seed,  
Who from an upper room had given it heed)  
Down she descended by a winding stair;  
Not solely; but the State, in her repair,  
Two Maids of Honour made. And when this Queen  
Of women, stooped so low, she might be seen  
By all her wooers. In the door, aloof  
(Entering the Hall, graced with a goodly roof)  
She stood, in shade of graceful veils implied  
About her beauties: on her either 〈◊〉,  
Her honoured women. When, (to 〈◊〉 mo●'d) thus  
She chid the sacred Singer: 〈◊〉,  
You know a number more of these gre●● deeds,  
Of Gods and men (that are the sacred 〈◊〉  
And proper subjects of a Poet's song,  
And those due pleasures that to men belong)  
Besides these facts that furnish Tr●is retreat,  
Sing one of those to these, that round your ●eate  
They may with silence sit, and taste their wine:  
But cearse this song, that through these ears of mine,  
Convey deserved occasion to my heart  
Of endless sorrows; of which, the desert  
In me, unmeasured is, past all these men;  
So endless is the memory I retain;  
And so desertful is that memory  
Of such a man, as hath a dignity  
So broad, it spreads itself through all the pride  
Of Greece, and Argos. To the Queen, replied  
Inspired Telemachus: Why thus envies  
My mother, him that fits 
g 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Cantor, cu●us tam a●ta est societas hominibus.  societies  
With so much harmony, to let him please  
His own mind, in his will to honour these▪  
For these 
h 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is an Epithets proper to Poets▪ for their first finding out of Arts and documents tending to elocution and government: inspired only by jove: and are here called the first of men: since first they gave rules to manly life: and have their information immediately from jove; (as Plato in 〈◊〉 witnesseth) The word deduced from 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which is taken for 〈◊〉, qui prim●● 〈…〉 in re: And will 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 then be sufficiently expressed with ingen●●●●● then 〈…〉 exposition goes further.  ingenuous, and first sort of men,  
That do immediately from Io●e retain  
Their singing raptures; are by jove as well  
Inspired with choice, of what their songs impel.  
Ioues will is free in it; and therefore theirs;  
Nor is this man to blame, that the repairs  
The greeks make homeward, sings: for his fresh Muse,  
Men still most celebrate, that sings most news.  
And therefore in his note, your ears employ:  
For, not Ulysses only lost in Troy  
The day of his return; but numbers more,  
The deadly ruins of his fortunes bore.  
Go you then, In; and take your work in hand;  
Your web, and distaff, and your maids command  
To ply their fit work. Words, to men are due,  
And those reproving counsels you pursue;  
And most, to me, of all men; since I bear  
The rule of all things, that are managed here.  
She went amazed away; and in her heart,  
Laid up the wisdom Pallas did impart  
To her loved son so lately; turned again  
Up to her chamber; and no more would reign  
In manly counsels. To her women, she  
Applied her sway; and to the wooers, he  
Began new orders; other spirits bewrayed  
Then those, in spite of which, the wooers swayed.  
And (whiles his mother's tears, still washed her eyes,  
Till grey Minerva did those tears surprise  
With timely sleep; and that her wooers did rouse  
Rude Tumult up, through all the shady house,  
Disposed to sleep because their widow was)  
Telemachus, this new-given spirit did pass  
On their old insolence: 
Telemachus in new terms with the wooers.  Ho! you that are  
My mother's wooers! much too high ye bear  
Your petulant spirits: sit; and while ye may  
Enjoy me in your banquets: see ye lay  
These loud notes down; nor do this man the wrong,  
(Because my mother hath disliked his song)  
To grace her interruption: 'tis a thing  
Honest, and honoured too, to hear one sing  
Numbers so like the Gods in elegance,  
As this man flows in. By the morn's 
i 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, prima lu●e.  first light,  
I'll call ye all before me, in a Court,  
That I may clearly banish your resort  
With all your rudeness, from these roofs of mine.  
Away; and elsewhere in your feasts combine:  
Consume your own goods, and make mutual feast  
At either's house. Or if ye still hold best,  
And for your humours more sufficed fill,  
To feed, to spoil (because unpunished still)  
On other findings: spoil; but here I call  
Th'eternal Gods to witness, if it fall  
In my wished reach once, to be dealing wreaks,  
(By Ioues high bounty) these your present checks,  
To what I give in charge, shall add mo●e reins  
To my revenge hereafter; and the pains  
Ye then must suffer, shall pass all your pride,  
Ever to see redressed, or qualifide.  
At this, all bit their lips; and did admire  
His words sent from him, with such phrase, and fire:  
Which so much moved them; that 〈◊〉  
(Eupytheus son) cried out: Te●●●achus!  
The Gods, I think, have rapt thee to this height  
Of elocution; and this great conceit  
Of selfe-abilitie. We all may pray,  
That I●●e invest not in this kingdoms sway,  
Thy forward forces; which I see put forth  
A hot ambition in thee, for thy birth.  
Be not offended, 
Upon this answer of Telemach●s; because it hath so sudden a change; and is so far let down, from his late height of heat; altering & tempe●ing so commandingly▪ his affection's; I thought not am●sse to insert here Sponda●us further Annotation, which is this: Prudenter Telemachus ioco, furorem Antino● ac alpe rit●●ē emolli● Nam ita dictum illius interpretatur ut existimetu● censere iocose illa evam ab Anti●oo adversum se pronunciata. Et pri mum ●ronice se Regem esse exopta● propter commoda quae Reges solent com●tari. Ne tamen invidiam in se ambitionis concitet, testatur ●e regnum Ithacae non ambire, mortuo ulysse, cum idalij possidere queant se long praestantiores ac 〈…〉 ait▪ se moliri, ut propriarum aedium & bonorum solus sit dominus, ij● exclusis ac eiectis, qui vi illa occup●●● 〈◊〉 d●●perdere co●●●tur.  (he replied) if I  
Shall say, I would assume this empery,  
If jove gave leave. You are not he that sings,  
The rule of kingdoms is the worst of things.  
Nor is it ill, at all, to sway a throne:  
A man may quickly gain possession  
Of mighty riches; make a wondrous prize  
Set of his virtues; but the dignities  
That deck a King, there are enough beside  
In this circumfluous I'll, that want no pride  
To think them worthy of; as young as I,  
And old as you are. An ascent so high,  
My thoughts affect not: dead is he that held  
Desert of virtue to have so excelled.  
But of these turrets, I will take on me  
To be the absolute King; and reign as free  
As did my father, over all, his hand  
Left here, in this house, slaves to my command.  
Eurymachus, the son of Polyb●●,  
To this, made this reply: Tele●achus!  
The Garland of this kingdom, let the knees  
Of deity run for: but the faculties,  
This house is seized of, and the turrets here,  
Thou shalt be Lord of; nor shall any bear  
The least part of, of all thou dost possess,  
As long as this land is no wilderness,  
Nor ruled by outlaws). But give these their pass,  
And tell me (best of Prince) who he was  
That guested here so late? from whence? and what  
In any region boasted he his state?  
His race? his country? Brought he any news  
Of thy returning Father? Or for dues  
Of moneys to him, made he fit repair?  
How suddenly he rushed into the air?  
Nor would sustain to stay, and make him known?  
His Port showed no debauched companion.  
He answered: Thereturne of my loved Sire,  
Is past all hope; and should rude Fame inspire  
From any place, a flattering messenger,  
With news of his suruivall; he should bear  
No least belief off, from my desperate love.  
Which if a sacred Prophet should approve,  
(Called by my mother for her cares unrest)  
It should not move me. For my late fair guest,  
He was of old my Fathers: touching here  
From Sea-girt Taphos; and for name doth bear  
Mentas; the son of wise Anchialus;  
And governs all the Taphians, studious  
Of Navigation. This he said: but knew  
It was a Goddess. These again withdrew  
To dances, and attraction of the song.  
And while their pleasures did the time prolong,  
The sable Even descended; and did steep  
The lids of all men in desire of sleep.  
Telemachus, into a room built high,  
Of his illustrious Court; and to the eye  
Of circular prospect; to his bed ascended;  
And in his mind, much weighty thought contended.  
Before him, Euryclaea (that well knew  
All the observance of a handmaid's due,  
Daughter to Opis Pysenorides)  
Bore two bright torches. Who did so much please  
Laertes in her prime; that for the price  
Of twenty Oxen, he made merchandise  
Of her rare beauties; and loves equal flame  
To her he felt, as to his nuptial Dame.  
Yet never durst he mix with her in bed;  
So much the anger of his wife he fled.  
She, now grown old, to young Telemach●s  
Two torches bore; and was obsequious,  
Past all his other maids; and did apply  
Her service to him, from his infancy.  
His wel-built chamber, reached; she oped the door;  
He, on his bed sat. The soft weeds he wore,  
Put off; and to the diligent old maid  
Gave all; who fitly all in thick folds laid,  
And hung them on a beame-pin near the bed;  
That round about was rich embroidered.  
Then made she haste forth from him; and did bring  
The door together with a silver ring;  
And by a string, a bar to it did pull.  
He, laid, and covered well with cu●led wool,  
Woven in silk quilts: all night employed his mind  
About the task that Pallas had designed.  
Finis libri primi H●m. Odyss.   

THE SECOND BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
TElemachus to Court doth call▪  
The wooers; and commands them all  
To leave his house▪ and, taking then  
From wise Minerva, ship and men;  
And all things fit for him beside,  
That Euryclaea could provide  
For sea-rites, till he found his Sire;  
He hoists sail, when heaven stoops his fire.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

The old Maids store  
The voyage cheers;  
The ship leaves shore,  
Minerva steres.    
NOw when with rosy fingers, th'early born,  
And, thrown through all the air, appeared the mo●e;  
Ulysses loved son from his bed appeared;  
His weeds put on; and did about him gird  
His sword, that thwart his shoulders hung; and tied  
To his fair feet, fair shoes; and all parts plied  
For speedy readiness; who when he trod  
The open earth, to men, showed like a God.  
The Heralds then, he straight charged to consort  
The curld-head greeks, with loud calls to a Court.  
They summoned; 
The greeks called to council by Telemach●●.  th'other came, in utmost haste;  
Who, all assembled, and in one heap placed;  
He likewse came to council; and did bear  
In his fai●e hand, his iron-headed spear:  
Nor came alone; nor with men troops prepared;  
But two fleet dogs, made, both his train, and Guard.  
Pallas supplied with her high wisdoms grace,  
(That all men's wants supplies) States painted face.  
His entering presence, all men did admire;  
Who took seat in the high throne of his Sire;  
To which the grave Peers gave him reverend way.  
Amongst whom, an Egyptian Hero,  
(Crooked with age, and full of skill) begun  
The speech to all. Who had a loved son,  
That with divine Ulysses did ascend  
His hollow fleet to Troy: to serve which end,  
He kept fair horse, and was a man at Arms;  
And in the cruel Cyclops stern alarms,  
His life lost by him, in his hollow cave;  
Whose entrails opened his abhorred grave;  
And made of him (of all Ulysses' train)  
His latest supper, being latest slain.  
His name was Antip●us. And this old man,  
This crooked grown; this wise Egyptian,  
Had three sons more; of which, one riotous,  
A wooer was, and called 〈◊〉;  
The other two, took both, his own wished course.  
Yet, both the best fates, weighed not down the worse;  
But left the old man mindful still of moan;  
Who, weeping, thus bespoke the Session:  
Hear, Ithacensia●s, all I fitly say;  
Since our divine Ulysses parting day  
Never was council called, nor session;  
And now, by whom is this thus undergone?  
Whom did Necessity so much compel,  
Of young or old? Hath any one heard tell  
Of any coming army; that he thus now  
May openly take boldness to a●ow?  
First having heard it. Or will any here  
Some motion for the public good prefer?  
Some worth of note there is in this command;  
And, me thinks, it must be some good man's hand  
That's put to it: that either hath direct  
Means to assist; or, for his good affect,  
Hopes to be happy in the proof he makes;  
And that, jove grant, what ere he undertakes.  
Telemachus (rejoicing much to hear  
The good hope, and opinion men did bear  
Of his young actions) no longer ●at;  
But longed t'approve, what this man pointed at;  
And make his first proof, in a cause so good:  
And in the Counsels chief place, 
Telemachus proposeth his estate to the greeks.  up he stood;  
When straight, Pysenor (Herald to his Sire,  
And learned in counsels) felt his heart on fire,  
To hear him speak; and put into his hand  
The Sceptre that his Father did command;  
Then (to the old Egyptian turned) he spoke:  
Father, not far he is, that undertook  
To call this council; whom you soon shall know.  
Myself, whose wrongs, my griefs will ma●e me show,  
Am he that authored this assembly here;  
Nor have I heard of any army near;  
Of which, being first told, I might iterate;  
Nor for the public good, can aught, rela●●▪  
Only mine own affairs all this procure,  
That in my house a double ill endure;  
One, having lost a Father so renowned,  
Whose kind rule once, with your command was crowned:  
The other is, what much more doth augment  
His weighty loss, the ruin imminent  
Of all, my house by it, my goods all spent.  
And of all this, the wooers, that are sons  
To our chief Peers, are the Confusions:  
Importuning my Mother's marriage  
Against her will; nor dares their bloods bold rage  
Go to Icarius, her father's Court,  
That, his will asked, in kind and comely sort,  
He may endow his daughter with a dower;  
And, she consenting, at his pleasures power,  
Dispose her to a man, that (thus behaved)  
May have fit grace; and see her honour saved;  
But these, in none but my house, all their lives  
Resolve to spend; slaughtering my sheep and beeves;  
And with my fattest goats, lay feast on feast;  
My generous wine, consuming as they list.  
A world of things they spoil; here wanting one,  
That like Ulysses, quickly, could set gone  
These peace-plagues from his house, that spoil like war.  
Whom my powers are unfit, to urge so far,  
Myself immartiall. But had I the power,  
My will should serve me, to exempt this hour  
From out my life time. For past patience,  
Base deeds are done here, that exceed defence  
Of any honour. Falling is my house,  
Which you should shame to see so ruinous.  
Reverence the censures, that all good men give,  
That dwell about you; and for fear to live  
Exposed to heavens wrath (that doth ever pay  
Pains, for joys forfeit) even by jove I pray  
Or Themis; both which, powers have to restrain  
Or gather Counsels; that ye will abstain  
From further spoil; and let me only waste  
In that most wretched grief I have embraced  
For my lost Father. And though I am free  
From meriting your outrage; yet, if he  
(Good man) hath ever, with a hostile heart  
Done ill to any Greek; on me convert  
Your like hostility; and vengeance take  
Of his ill, on my life; and all these, make  
join in that justice; but to see abused  
Those goods that do none ill, but being ill used,  
Exceeds all right. Yet better 'tis for me,  
My whole possessions, and my rents to see  
Consumed by you; then lose my life and all;  
For on your rapine a revenge may fall,  
While I live; and so long I may complain  
About the City; till my goods again  
(Oft asked) may be with all amends repaid.  
But in the mean space, your misrule hath laid  
Griefs on my bosom, that can only speak,  
And are denied the instant power of wreak.  
This said; his Sceptre 'gainst the ground he threw,  
And tears stilled from him; which moved all the crew:  
The Court struck silent; not a man did dare  
To give a word, that might offend his ●are.  
Antinous only, in this sort replied:  
High-spoken, 
Antinous to Telemachus.  and of spirit unpacified;  
How have you shamed us, in this speech of yours?  
Will you brand us, for an offence not ours?  
Your mother (first in craft) is first in cause.  
Three years are past, and near, the fourth now draws,  
Since first she mocked the Peers Achaean.  
All, she made hope, and promised every man:  
Sent for us ever; left loves show in nought;  
But in her heart, concealed another thought.  
Besides, (as curious in her craft) her loo●e  
She with a web charged, hard to overcome;  
And thus bespoke us: 
The wile of Penelope to her wooers.  Youths that seek my bed;  
Since my divine Spouse rests among the dead,  
Hold on your suits, but till I end, at most  
This funeral weed; lest what is done, be lost.  
Besides, I purpose, that when th'austere fate  
Of bitter death, shall take into his state,  
Lae●tes the Hero; it shall deck  
His royal corpse; since I should suffer check  
In ill report, of every common dame,  
If one so rich, should show in death his shame.  
This speech she used; and this did soon persuade  
Our gentle minds. But this, a work she made  
So hugely long; 
Telam Penelopes retexere, Proverbium.  undoing still in night  
(By torches) all, she did by days broad light;  
That three years her deceit, dived past our view;  
And made us think, that all she feigned, was true.  
But when the fourth year came; and those ●lie hours,  
That still surprise at length, Dames craftiest powers;  
One of her women, that knew all, disclosed  
The secret to us; that she still unlosde  
Her whole days fair affair, in depth of night.  
And then, no further she could force her sleight,  
But, of necessity, her work gave end.  
And thus, by me, doth every other friend,  
Professing love to her, reply to thee;  
That even thyself, and all Greeks else may see,  
That we offend not in our stay, but she.  
To free thy house then, send her to her Sire;  
Commanding that her choice be left entire  
To his election, and one settled will.  
Nor let her vex with her illusions still,  
Her friends that woe her; standing on her wit;  
Because wise Pallas hath given wiles to it,  
So full of Art; and made her understand  
All works, in fair skill of a Lady's hand.  
But (for her working mind) we read of none  
Of all the old world; in which Greece hath shown  
Her rarest pieces, that could equal her:  
Tyro, Alcmene, and Mycena were  
To hold comparison in no degree  
(For solid brain) with wise Penelope.  
And yet in her delays of us, she shows  
No profits skill, with all the wit she owes;  
For all this time, thy goods and victuals go  
To utter ruin; and shall ever so  
While thus the Gods, her glorious mind dispose.  
Glory, herself may gain; but thou shalt lose  
Thy longings even for necessary food;  
For we will never go, where lies our good;  
Nor any other where; till this delay  
She puts on all, she quits with th'endless stay  
Of some one of us; that to all the rest  
May give free farewell with his nuptial feast.  
The wise young Prince replied: Antinous! 
Telemachus to Antinous.   
I may by no means turn out of my house,  
Her that hath brought me forth, and nourished me.  
Besides: if quick or dead my Father be  
In any region, yet abides in doubt.  
And 'twill go hard, (my means being so run out)  
To tender to Icarius again  
(If he again, my mother must maintain  
In her retreat) the dower she brought with her.  
And then, a double ill it will confer,  
Both from my Father, and from God, on me;  
When (thrust out of her house) on her bend knee,  
My Mother shall the horrid Furies raise  
With imprecations: and all men dispraise  
My part in her exposure. Never then  
Will I perform this counsel. If your spleen  
Swell at my courses; once more I command  
Your absence from my house. Some others hand  
Charge with your banquets. On your own goods ●ate;  
And either other mutually entreat,  
At either of your houses, with your feast.  
But if ye still esteem more sweet and best,  
Another's spoil; 
The word is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifying, insatiabili quadam edacitate vo●o.  so you still wreakless live:  
Gnaw (vermine-like) things sacred: no laws give  
To your devouring; it remains that I  
Invoke each everliving Deity;  
And vow if jove shall deign in any date,  
power of like pains, for pleasures so past rate;  
From thenceforth look, where ye have reveld so,  
Unwreaked, your ruins, all shall undergo.  
Thus spoke Telemachus, 
Augurium.  t'assure whose threat,  
Farre-seeing jove, upon their pinions set  
Two Eagles from the high brows of a hill;  
That, mounted on the winds, together still  
Their strokes extended. But arriving now  
Amidst the Council; over every brow,  
shook their thick wings; and (threatening deaths cold fears)  
Their necks and cheeks tore with their eager Seres.  
Then, on the Courts right-hand away they flew,  
Above both Court and City: with whose view  
And study what events they might foretell,  
The Council into admiration fell.  
The old Her●e, Halitherses 
Halitherses an Augur.  then,  
The son of Nestor; that of all old men  
(His Peers in that Court) only could foresee  
By flight of fowls, man's fixed destiny;  
Twixt them and their amaze, this interposed:  
Hear (Ithacensians) all your doubts disclosed;  
The wooers most are touched in this ostent,  
To whom are dangers great and imminent.  
For now, not long more shall Ulysses bear  
Lack of his most loved; but fills some place near,  
Addressing to these wooers, Fa●e and Death.  
And many more, this mischief menaceth  
Of us inhabiting this famous I'll.  
Let us consult yet, in this long forewhile,  
How to ourselves we may prevent this ill.  
Let these men rest secure, and revel still:  
Though they might find it safer, if with us  
They would in time prevent what threats them thus:  
Since not without sure trial, I foretell  
These coming storms; but know their issue well.  
For to Ulysses, all things have event,  
As I foretold him; when for Ili●n went  
The whole Greek fleet together; and with them,  
Th'abundant in all counsels, took the stream.  
I told him, that when much ill he had past,  
And all his men were lost; he should at last,  
The twentieth year turn home; to all unknown;  
All which effects are to perfection grown.  
Eurymachus, the son of Polybus,  
Opposed this man's presage, and answered thus:  
Hence, 
Eurymachus excepts against the prophecy.  Great in years; go, prophecy at home;  
Thy children teach to shun their ills to come.  
In these, superior far to thee, am I  
A world of fowls beneath the Sunbeams fly,  
That are not fit t'inform a prophecy.  
Besides, Ulysses perished long ago,  
And would thy fates to thee had destined so;  
Since so, thy so much prophecy had spared  
Thy wronging of our rights; which for reward  
Expected, home with thee, hath summoned us  
Within the anger of Telemachus.  
But this will I presage, which shall be true,  
If any spark of anger, chance t'ensue  
Thy much old art, in these deep Auguries,  
In this young man incensed by thy lies;  
Even to himself, his anger shall confer  
The greater anguish; and thine own ends err  
From all their objects: and beside, thine age  
Shall feel a pain, to make thee curse presage,  
With worthy cause, for it shall touch thee near.  
But I will soon give end to all our fear,  
Preventing whatsoever chance can fall,  
In my suit to the young Prince, for us all  
To send his mother to her father's house,  
That he may sort her out a worthy spouse;  
And such a dower bestow, as may befit  
One loved, to leave her friends, and follow it.  
Before which course be, I believe that none  
Of all the greeks will cease th'ambition  
Of such a match. For, chance what can to us,  
We, no man fear; no not Telemachus,  
Though ne'er so greatly spoken. Nor care we  
For any threats of austere prophecy  
Which thou (old dotard) vantst of so in vain.  
And thus shalt thou in much more hate remain;  
For still the Gods shall bear their ill expense;  
Nor ever be disposed by competence,  
Till with her nuptials, she dismiss our suits.  
Our whole lives days shall sow hopes for such fruits.  
Her virtues we contend to; nor will go  
To any other, be she never so  
Worthy of us, and all the worth we owe.  
He answered him: Eurymach●s! and all  
Ye generous wooers, 
Telemachus to the wooer's.  now, in general;  
I see your brave resolves; and will no more  
Make speech of these points; and much less, implore.  
It is enough, that all the Grecians here,  
And all the Gods beside, just witness bear,  
What friendly premonitions have been spent  
On your forbearance; and their vain event.  
Yet with my other friends, let love prevail  
To fit me with a vessel, free of sail;  
And twenty men; that may divide to me  
My ready passage through the yielding sea.  
For Sparta, and Amathoon Pylos shore  
I now am bound; in purpose to explore  
My long lacked Father; and to try if Fame  
(Or jove, most author of man's honoured name)  
With his return and life, may glad mine ear;  
Though toiled in that proof, I sustain a year.  
If dead, I hear him, nor of more state; here  
(Retired to my loved country) I will rear  
A Sepulchre to him, and celebrate  
Such royal parent-rites, as fits his state.  
And then, my mother to a Spouse dispose.  
This said, he sat; and to the rest, arose  
Mentor, 
Mentor for Telemachus.  that was Ulysses chosen friend;  
To whom, when he set forth, he did commend  
His complete family; and whom he willed  
To see the mind of his old Sire fulfilled;  
All things conserving safe, till his retreat;  
Who (tender of his charge; and seeing so set  
In sleight care of their King, his subjects there;  
Suffering his son, so much contempt to bear)  
Thus gravely, and with zeal to him began:  
No more, let any Scepter-bea●ing man,  
Benevolent, or mild, or human be;  
Nor in his mind, form acts of piety,  
But ever feed on blood; and facts unjust  
Commit, even to the full swinge of his lust;  
Since of divine Ulysses, no man now  
Of all his subjects, any thought doth show.  
All whom, he governed; and became to them  
(Rather then one that wore a diadem)  
A most indulgent father. But (for all  
That can touch me) within no envy fall  
These insolent wooers; that in violent kind,  
Commit things foul, by th'ill wit of the mind;  
And with the hazard of their heads, devour  
Ulysses' house; since his returning hour,  
They hold past hope. But it affects me much,  
(Ye dull plebeians) that all this doth touch  
Your free States nothing; who (struck dumb) afford  
These wooers, not so much wreak as a word;  
Though few, and you, with only number might  
Extinguish to them, the profaned light.  
Euenors' son (Liocritus) replied; 
Li●critus to Mentor.   
Mentor! the railer, made a fool with pride;  
What language giv'st thou? that would quiet us,  
With putting us in storm? exciting thus  
The rout against us? who, though more than we,  
Should find it is no easy victory  
To drive men, habited in feast, from feasts;  
No not if Ithacus himself, such guests  
Should come and find so furnishing his Court,  
And hope to force them from so sweet a fort.  
His wife should little joy in his arrive,  
Though much she wants him: for, where she, alive  
Would hers enjoy; there Death should claim his rights:  
He must be conquered, that with many fights.  
Tho● speak'st unfit things. To their labours than  
Disperse these people; and let these two men  
(Mentor and Halitherses) that so boast,  
From the beginning to have governed most  
In friendship of the Father; to the son  
Confirm the course, he now affects to run.  
But my mind says, that if he would but use  
A little patience; he should here hear news  
Of all things that his wish would understand;  
But no good hope for, of the course in hand.  
This said; the Council rose; when every Peer  
And all the people, in dispersion were  
To houses of their own; the wooers yet  
Made to Ulysses' house their old retreat.  
Telemachus, apart from all the press,  
Prepared to shore; and (in the aged seas,  
His fair hands washed) did thus to Pallas pray: 
Telemachus prays to Pallas.   
Hear me (O Goddess) that but yesterday  
Didst deign access to me at home; and lay  
Grave charge on me, to take ship, and inquire  
Along the dark seas for mine absent Sire;  
Which all the greeks oppose; amongst whom, most  
Those that are proud still at another's cost,  
Past measure, and the civil rights of men,  
(My mother's wooers) my repulse maintain.  
Thus spoke he praying; when close to him came  
Pallas, resembling Mentor, both in frame  
Of voice and person; and advised him thus:  
Those wooers well might know; 
Minerva in the person of Mentor▪ exhorts to the voyage.  Telemachus▪  
Thou wilt not ever weak and childish be;  
If to thee be instilld the faculty  
Of mind and body, that thy Father graced.  
And if (like him) there be in thee enchased  
Virtue to give words works, and works their end;  
This voyage, that to them thou didst commend  
Shall not so quickly, as they idly ween,  
Be vain, or given up, for their opposite spleen.  
But if Ulysses, nor Penelope  
Were thy true parents; I then hope in thee  
Of no more urging thy attempt in hand;  
For few, that rightly bred on both sides stand,  
Are like their parents; many that are worse;  
And most-few, better. Those than that the nurse,  
Or mother call true borne; yet are not so;  
Like worthy Sires, much less are like to grow.  
But thou showst now, that in thee fades not quite  
Thy Father's wisdom; and that future light  
Shall therefore show thee far from being unwise,  
Or touched with stain of bastard cowardice.  
Hope therefore says, that thou wilt to the end  
Pursue the brave act, thou didst erst intend.  
But for the foolish wooers, they bewray  
They neither counsel have, nor so●le; since they  
Are neither wise nor just; and so must needs  
Rest ignorant, how black above their heads  
Fate hovers, holding Death; that one sole day  
Will make enough to make them all away.  
For thee; the way thou wishest, shall no more  
Fly thee a step; I that have been before  
Thy Father's friend; thine likewise now will be;  
Provide thy ship myself, and follow thee.  
Go thou then home, and soothe each wooer's vain;  
But under hand, fit all things for the Main;  
Wine, in as strong and sweet casks as you can;  
And meal, the very marrow of a man;  
Which put in good sure leather sacks; and see  
That with sweet food, sweet vessels still agree.  
ay, from the people, strait will press for you  
Free voluntaries; and (for ships) ●now  
Sea-circled Ithaca contains, both new  
And old built; all which, I'll exactly view,  
And choose what one soever most doth please;  
Which rigged, we'll straight launch, and assay the seas.  
This spoke I●●es daughter, Pallas; whose voice heard;  
No more Telemachus her charge deferred;  
But hasted home; and, sad at heart, did see  
Amidst his Hall, th'insulting wooers flay  
Goats, and roast swine. Mo●gst whom, Antinous  
Careless, (discovering in Telemachus  
His grudge to see them) laughed; met; took his hand,  
And said; 
Antinous to Telemachus.  High spoken! with the mind so mannd;  
Come, do as we do; put not up your spirits  
With these low trifles; nor our loving merits,  
In gall of any hateful purpose, sleep;  
But eat egregiously, and drink as deep.  
The things thou thinkst on, all, at full shall be  
By th' Achives thought on, and performed to thee:  
Ship, and choice Oars, that in a trice will land  
Thy hasty Fleet, on heavenly Pylos sand;  
And at the fame of thy illustrious Sire.  
He answered: 
Telemachus answers.  Men whom Pride doth so inspire,  
Are no fit consorts for an humble guest;  
Nor are constrained men, merry at their feast.  
Is't not enough, that all this time ye have  
Opened in your entrails, my chief goods a grave?  
And while I was a child, made me partake?  
My now more growth, more grown my mind doth make:  
And (hearing speak, more judging men than you)  
Perceive how much I was misgoverned now.  
I now will try, if I can bring ye home  
An ill Fate to consort you; if it come  
From Pylos, or amongst the people, here.  
But thither I resolve; and know that there  
I shall not touch in vain. Nor will I stay,  
Though in a merchant's ship I ●tere my way:  
Which shows in your sights best▪ since me ye know  
Incapable of ship, or men to row.  
This said; his hand he coily snatched away  
From forth Antinous hand. The rest, the day  
Spent through the house with banquets; ●ome with jests,  
And some with railings, dignifying the●● feasts.  
To whom, a iest-proud youth, the wit began:  
Telemachus will kill us every man.  
From Sparta, or the very Pyltan sand,  
He will raise aids to his impetuous hand. 
The wi● of the wooers upon the purpose of Telemachus to seek his Father.   
O he affects it strangely! Or he means  
To search Ephyras fat shores; and from thence  
Bring deathful poisons; which amongst our bow'ls  
Will make a general shipwreck of our souls.  
Another said: Alas who knows, but he  
Once gone; and erring like his Sire at sea,  
May perish like him, far from aid of friends?  
And so he makes us work; for all the ends  
Left of his goods here, we shall share; the house  
Left to his mother, and her chosen 〈◊〉.  
Thus they. While he a room ascended, high  
And large, built by his Father; where did lie  
Gold and brass heaped up; and in coffers were  
Rich robes; great store of 〈…〉; and there  
Stood Tuns of sweet old wines, along the wall;  
Neat and divine drink, kept ●o cheer withal  
Ulysses' old heart, if he turned again  
From labours fatal to him to sustain.  
The doors of Plank were; their close exquisite,  
Kept with a double key; and day and night  
A woman locked within; and that was she,  
Who all trust had for her sufficiency.  
Old Euryclea, (one of Opis●ace ●ace,  
Son to Pise●●r, and in passing grace  
With grey Miner●●:) 
Telemachus to Euryciea.  her, the Prince did call;  
And said, Nurse! draw me the most sweet of all  
The wine thou keep'st; next that, which for my Sire,  
Thy care reserves, in hope he shall retire.  
Twelve vessels fill me forth, and stop them well.  
Then into well-sewd sacks, of fine ground meal,  
power twenty measures. No● to any one  
But thou thyself, let this design be known.  
All this see got together; I, it all  
In night will fetch off, when my mother shall  
Ascend her high room, and for ●●eepe prepare.  
Sparta and Pylos, I must see, in care  
To find my Father. Out Euryclea cried,  
And asked with tears: 
Eurycleas' answer.  Why is your mind applied  
(Dear son) to this course? whither will you go?  
So far off leave us? and beloved so?  
So only? and the sole hope of your race?  
Royal Ulysses, far from the embrace  
Of his kind country; in a land unknown  
Is dead; and you (from your loved country go●e)  
The wooers will with some deceit assay  
To your destruction; making then their prey  
Of all your goods. Where, in your own y'●re strong,  
Make sure abode. It fits 〈◊〉 you so young,  
To suffer so much by the aged feas,  
And err in such a wayless wilderness.  
Be cheered (loved nurse, 
Telemachus comforts Euryclea.  said he) for not without  
The will of God, go my attempts about.  
Swear therefore, not to wound my mother's ears  
With word of this; before from heaven appears  
Th'ele●enth or twelfth light; or herself shall please  
To ask of me; or hears me put to seas;  
Lest her fair body, with her woe ●e wore.  
To this, the great oath of the Gods, she swore;  
Which, having sworn; and of it, every due  
Performed to full: to vessels, wine she drew;  
And into well-sewd sacks poured foodie meal;  
In mean time he (with cunning to conceal  
All thought of this from others) himself bore  
In broad house, with the wooers, as before.  
Then grey-eyed Pallas, 
The care of Minerva for Telemachus.  other thoughts did own;  
And (like Telemachus) trod through the Town;  
Commanding all his men, in th'even to be  
Aboard his ship. Again then questioned she  
Normon (famed for aged Phronius son)  
About his ship; who, all things to be done,  
Assured her freely should. The Sun then set,  
And sable shadows slid through every street,  
When forth they launched; and soon aboard did bring  
All Arms, and choice of every needful thing,  
That fits a well-riggd ship. The Goddess than  
Stood in the Ports extreme part; where, her men  
(Nobly appointed) thick about her came,  
Whose every breast, she did with spirit inflame.  
Yet still fresh projects, laid the grey-eyed Dame.  
Strait, to the house she hasted; and sweet sleep  
Poured on each wooer; which so laid in steep  
Their drowsy temples, that each brow did nod,  
As all were drinking; and each hand his load  
(The cup) let fall. All start up, and to bed;  
Nor more would watch, when sleep so surfeited  
Their leaden eyelids. Then did Pallas call  
Telemachus, (in body, voice, and all  
Resembling Mentor) from his native nest:  
And said, that all his armed men were addressed  
To use their Oars; and all expected now  
He should the spirit of a soldier show.  
Come then (said she) no more let us defer  
Our honoured action. Then she took on her  
A ravished spirit, and led as she did leap;  
And he her most haste, took out, step by step.  
Arrived at sea, and ship; they found ashore  
The soldiers, that their fashioned long hair wore;  
To whom, 
Telemachus to his soldiers.  the Prince said: Come, my friends; let's bring  
Our voyages provision: every thing  
Is heaped together in our Court; and none  
(No not my mother, nor her maids) but one  
Knows our intention. This expressed; he led;  
The soldiers close together followed;  
And all together brought aboard their store.  
Aboard the Prince went; Pallas still before  
Sat at the Stern: he close to her; the men  
Up, hasted after. He, and Pallas then,  
Put from the shore. His soldiers than he ●ad  
See all their Arms fit; which they heard; and had.  
A beechen Mast then, 
Navigatur.  in the hollow base  
They put, and hoist; fixed it in his place  
With cables; and with well-wreathed hawsers hoist  
Their white sails; which grey Pallas now employs  
With full and fore-gales, through the dark deep main.  
The purple waves (so swift cut) roared again  
Against the ship sides, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  that now ran, and ploughed  
The rugged seas up. Then the men bestowed  
Their Arms about the ship; and sacrifice  
With crowned wine cups, to th'endless Deities,  
They offered up▪ Of all yet throned above,  
They most observed the grey-eyed seed of jove:  
Who from the evening, till the morning rose,  
And all day long, their voyage did dispose.  
Finis libri secundi Ho●. Odyss.   

THE THIRD BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
TElemachus, and heavens 
* Pallas.  wise Dame,  
That never husband had, now came  
To Nestor; who, his either guest  
Received at the religious feast  
He made to Neptune, on his shore.  
And there told, what was done before  
The Trojan turrets; and the state  
Of all the greeks, since Ilion's fate.  
This book, these 
* Vid. Minerva, Nestor, & Telemachus.  three of greatest place,  
Doth serve with many a varied grace.  
(Which past); Minerva takes her leave.  
Whose state, when Nestor doth perceive;  
With sacrifice he makes it known,  
Where many a pleasing rite is shown.  
Which done, Telemachus had gained  
A chariot of him; who ordained  
Pisistratus, his son, his guide  
To Sparta; and when starry eyed  
The ample heaven began to be;  
All house-rites to afford them free  
(In Pheris) Diocles did please;  
His surname Ortilochides.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

Ulysses' son  
With Nestor lies;  
To Sparta gone,  
Thence Pallas flies.    
THe Sun now left the great and goodly Lake,  
And to the firm heaven, bright ascent did make,  
To shine as well upon the mortal birth,  
Inhabiting the ploughed life-giving earth,  
As on the ever tredders upon Death.  
And now to Pylos, that so garnisheth  
Herself with buildings; old Neleus town,  
The Prince and Goddess come; had strange sights shown;  
For on the Marine shore, the people there  
To Neptune, that the Azure ●ockes doth wear;  
Beefs that were wholly black, gave holy flame.  
Nine seats of State they made to his high name;  
And every Seat set with five hundred men;  
And each five hundred, was to furnish then  
With nine black Oxen, every sacred Seat.  
These, of the entrails only, pleased to eat;  
And to the God inflamed the fleshy thighs.  
By this time Pallas, with the sparkling eyes,  
And he she led, within the ha●en bore:  
Struck sail, 
Minerva to Tele●●ac●us.  cast anchor, and trod both the shore.  
She fi●st; he after. Then said Pallas: Now  
No more befits thee the least bashful brow;  
Tembolde● which, this act is put on thee  
To seek thy Father, both at shore, and sea:  
And learn in what Clime, he abides so close;  
Or in the power of what Fate doth repose.  
Come then; go right to Nest●r; let us see,  
If in his bosom any counsel be,  
That may inform us. Pray him not to trace  
The common courtship; and to speak in grace  
Of the Demander; but to tell the truth:  
Which will delight him; and commend thy youth  
For such prevention; for he loves no lies;  
Nor will report them, being truly wise.  
He answered: 
Telemachus to Minerva.  Me●t●r! how alas shall I  
Present myself? how greet his gravity?  
My youth by no means that ripe form affords,  
That can digest my mind's instinct, in words  
Wise, and beseeming th'ears of one so sage.  
Youth of most hope, blush to use words with Age.  
She said: Thy mind will some conceit impress,  
And something God will prompt thy towardness.  
For I suppose, thy birth and breeding too,  
Were not in spite of what the Gods could do.  
This said, she swiftly went before, and he  
Her steps made guides, and followed instantly.  
When soon they reached the Pylian throngs and seats,  
Where Nestor with his sons sat; and the meats  
That for the feast served; round about them were  
Adherents dressing all their sacred cheer,  
Being roast and boiled meats. When the Pylia●s saw  
These strangers come: in thrust did all men draw  
About their entry. 
They are received as guests.  took their hands, and prayed  
They both would sit. Their entry first assayed  
By Nestor's son, Pisistratus. In grace  
Of whose repair, he gave them honoured place  
Betwixt his Si●e, and brother Thrasi●●d,  
Who sat at feast, on soft Fels that were spread  
Along the sea sands. Carved, and reached to them  
Parts of the inwards; and did make a stream  
Of sprightly wine, into a golden bowl;  
Which to Minerva, with a gentle soul  
He gave, and thus spoke: Ere you eat, fair guest,  
Invoke the Seas King; 
The 〈◊〉 of Pis●strat●● to strangers.  of whose sacred feast,  
Your travel hither, makes ye partners now:  
When (sacrificing, ●s becomes) bestow  
This bowl of sweet wine on your friend, that he  
May likewise use these rites of piety:  
For I suppose, his youth doth prayers use,  
Since all men need the Gods. But you I choose  
First in this cups disposure; since his years  
Seem short of yours; who more like me appears.  
Thus gave he her the cup of pleasant wine;  
And since a wise and just man did design  
The golden bowl first to her free receipt;  
Even to the Goddess it did add delight.  
Who thus invokt: Hear thou whose vast embrace  
Enspheres the whole earth; nor disdain thy grace 
Minerua● grace.   
To us that ask it, in performing this:  
To Nestor first, and these fair sons of his,  
Vouchsafe all honour: and next them, bestow  
On all these Pylia●s, that have offered now  
This most renowned Hecatomb to thee,  
Remuneration fit for them, and free;  
And lastly deign Telemachus, and me,  
(The work performed, for whose effect we came)  
Our safe return, both with our ship and fame.  
Thus prayed she; and herself, herself obeyed;  
In th'end performing all for which she prayed.  
And now to pray, and do as she had done;  
She gave the fair round bowl t' Ulysses' son.  
The meat then dressed, and drawn, and served t'each guest;  
They celebrated a most sumptuous feast.  
When (appetite to wine and food allayed)  
Horse-taming Nestor 
Nestor to the strangers.  then began, and said:  
Now life's desire is served, as far as far;  
Time fits me to inquire, what guests these are.  
Fair guests, what are ye? and for what Coast tries  
Your ship the moist deeps? For fit merchandise,  
Or rudely coast ye, like our men of prize?  
The rough seas tempting; desperately erring  
The ill of others, in their good conferring?  
The wise Prince, now his boldness did begin;  
For Pallas self had hardened him within;  
By this device of travel to explore  
His absent Father; which two Garlands wore;  
His good, by manage of his spirits; and then  
To gain him high grace, in th'accounts of men.  
O Nestor! 
Telemachus answers.  still in whom 〈◊〉 lives!  
And all the glory of the Greeks ●uruiues;  
You ask, from whence we are; and I relate:  
From Ithaca (whose seat is situate  
Where Neius the renowned Mountain rears  
His haughty forehead; and the honour bears  
To be our Sea-mark) wea●●aid the waves;  
The business I must tell; our own good 〈◊〉,  
And not the public. I am come t'inquire,  
If in the fame that best men doth inspire,  
Of my most-suffering Father, I may hear  
Some truth of his estate 〈…〉  
The name (being joined in fight with you alone)  
To even with earth the height of 〈◊〉▪  
Of all men else, that any name did ●eare,  
And fought for Troy, the several ends we hear;  
But his death, jove keeps from the world unknown;  
The certain fame thereof, being told by none.  
If on the Continent, by enemies slain;  
Or with the waves eat, of the ravenous Maine.  
For his love 'tis, that to your knees I sue;  
That you would please, out of your own clear view,  
T'assure his sad end; or say, if your ear  
Hath heard of the unhappy wanderer,  
To too much sorrow, whom his mother bore.  
You then, by all your bounties I implore,  
(If ever to you, deed or word hath stood,  
By my good Father promised, rendered good  
Amongst the Troyans'; where ye both have tried  
The Grecian sufferance) that, in nought applied  
To my respect or pity, you will gloze,  
But unclothd Truth, to my desi●es disclose.  
O my much loved, 
Nestor to Telemachus.  (said he) since you renew  
Remembrance of the miseries that grew  
Upon our still-in-strength-opposing Gr●ece,  
Amongst Troy's people; I must touch a p●●ce  
Of all our woes there; either in the m●n  
Achilles brought by sea, and led to gain  
About the Country; or in us that fought  
About the City, where to death were b●ought  
All our chief men, as many as were th●●e.  
There Mars-like Ajax lies; Achilles there;  
There the-in-counsell-like-the Gods; his 
* Patroclus.  friend;  
There my dear son Antilochus 〈…〉;  
Past measure swift of foot, and stayed in fight.  
A number more, that ills felt infinite:  
Of which to reckon all, what mortal man  
(If five or six years you should stay here) can  
Serve such inquiry? You would back again,  
Affected with unsufferable pain,  
Before you heard it. Nine years sieged we them,  
With all the depth and sleight of stratagem  
That could be thought. Ill knit to ill, past end:  
Yet still they toiled us: nor would yet jove send  
Rest to our labours: nor will scarcely yet.  
But no man lived, that would in public set  
His wisdom, by Ulysses' policy,  
(As thought his equal) so excessively  
He stood superior all ways. If you be  
His son indeed; mine eyes even ravish me  
To admiration. And in all consent,  
Your speech puts on his speeches ornament.  
Nor would one say, that one so young could use  
(Unless his son) a Rhetoric so profuse.  
And while we lived together; he and I  
Never in speech maintained diversity:  
Nor set in counsel: but (by one soul led)  
With spirit and prudent counsel furnished  
The Greeks at all hours: that with fairest course,  
What best became them, they might put in force.  
But when Troy's high Towers, we had leveled thus;  
We put to sea; and God divided us.  
And then did jove, our sad retreat devise;  
For all the Greeks were neither just nor wise;  
And therefore many felt so sharp a-fate;  
Sent from Minerva's most pernicious hate;  
Whose mighty Father can do fearful things.  
By whose help she, betwixt the brother Kings  
Let fall Contention: 
De Graecorum dissidio.  who in council met  
In vain, and timeless; when the Sun was set;  
And all the Greeks called; that came charged with wine.  
Yet than the Kings would utter their design;  
And why they summoned. Menelaus, he  
Put all in mind of home; and cried, To sea.  
But Agam●mnon stood on contraries;  
Whose will was, they should stay and sacrifice  
Whole Hecatombs to Pallas; to forego  
Her high wrath to them. Fool, that did not know  
She would not so be won: for not with ease  
Th'eternal Gods are turned from what they please.  
So they (divided) on foul language stood.  
The greeks, in huge rout rose: their wine-heate blood,  
Two ways affecting. And that nights sleep too,  
We turned to studying either others wo.  
When jove beside, made ready woes enough.  
Moon came, we launched; and in our ships did stow  
Our goods, 
Discors navigatio Graecorum.  and faire-girt women. Half our men  
The people's guide (Atrides) did contain;  
And half (being now aboard) put forth to ●ea.  
A most free gale gave all ships prosperous way.  
God settld then the huge whale-bearing lake;  
And Tenedos we reached; where, for times sake,  
We did divine rites to the Gods: but I●ue  
(Inexorable still) bore yet no ●oue  
To our return; but did again excite  
A second sad Contention, that turned quite  
A great part of us back to sea again;  
Which were, th'abundant in all counsels men,  
(Your matchless Father) who, (to gratify  
The great Atrides) back to him did fly.  
But I fled all, with all that followed me;  
Because I knew, God studied misery,  
To hurl amongst us. With me likewise fled  
Martial Tidides. ay, the men he led,  
Got to go with him. Winds our fleet did bring  
To Lesbos, where the yellow-headed King  
(Though late, yet) found us: as we put to choice  
A tedious voyage; if we sail should hoist  
Above rough Chi●s (left on our left hand)  
To th'isle of Psiria; or that rugged land  
Sail under; and for windy 〈◊〉 steer.  
We asked of God, that some oftent might clear  
Our cloudy business: who gave us ●igne,  
And charge, that all should (in a middle line)  
The sea cut, for Eub●ea; that with speed,  
Our long-sustaind infortune might be freed.  
Then did a whistling wind begin to rise,  
And swiftly flew we through the fishie skies,  
Till to Ger●●stus we, in night were brought;  
Where (through the broad sea, since we safe had wrought)  
At Neptune's altars, many solid these  
Of slaughtered bulls, we burnt for sacrifice.  
The fourth day came, when Tyd●●● son did greet  
The haven of Arg●s, with his complete Fleet.  
But I, for Pyl●s straight stered on my course,  
Nor ever left the wind his fore right force,  
Since God fore-sent it first. And thus I came  
(Dear son) to Pyols, uninformd by fame;  
Nor know one saved by Fate, or overcome.  
Whom I have heard of since (set here 〈◊〉 home)  
As fits, thou shalt be taught, nought left unshown.  
The expert spearemen; every My●midon,  
(Led by the brave heir of the mighty sold  
Vnpeerd Achilles) safe of home got hold.  
Safe Philoctetes, Paeans famous seed:  
And safe Idomen●eus; his men led  
To his home, (Crete;) who fled the armed field;  
Of whom, yet none, the sea from him withheld.  
Atrides (you have both heard, though ye be  
His far off dwellers) what an end had he,  
Done by Aegisthus, to a bitter death;  
Who miserably paid for forced breath;  
Atrides leaving a good son, that died  
In blood of that deceitful parricide  
His wreakful sword. And thou my friend (as he  
For this hath his fame) the like spirit in thee  
Assume at all parts. Fair, and great I see  
Thou art, in all hope; make it good to th'end;  
That aftertimes, as much may thee commend.  
He answered: 
Telemachus Nestori.  O thou greatest grace of Greece;  
Orestes made that wreak, his master piece;  
And him the Greeks will give, a master praise;  
Ve●se finding him, to last all after days.  
And would to God, the Gods would favour me  
With his performance; that my injury,  
Done by my mother's wooers, (being so foul)  
I might revenge upon their every soul.  
Who (pressing me with contumelies) dare  
Such things as past the power of utterance are.  
But heavens great Powers, have grac'● my destiny  
With no such honour. Both my Sire and I,  
Are borne to suffer everlastingly.  
Because you name those wooers (Friend, said he) 
Nestor Telemacho.   
Report says, many such, in spite of thee,  
(Wooing thy mother) in thy house commit  
The ills thou namest. But say; proceedeth it  
From will in thee, to bear so foul a foil;  
Or from thy subjects hate, that wish thy spoil?  
And will not aid thee, since their spirits rely  
(Against thy rule) on some grave Augury?  
What know they, but at length thy Father may  
Come; and with violence, their violence pay?  
Or he alone; or all the Greeks with him?  
But if Minerva now did so esteem  
Thee, as thy Father, in times past; whom, past  
All measure, she, with glorious favours graced  
Amongst the Troyans', where we suffered so;  
(O! I did never see, in such clear show,  
The Gods so grace a man, as she to him,  
To all our eyes, appeared in all her t●im)  
If so, I say, she would be pleased to love,  
And that her minds care, thou so much couldst mo●e,  
As did thy Father; every man of these,  
Would lose in death their seeking marriages.  
O Father, 
Telemachus.  (answered he) you make amaze  
Seize me throughout. Beyond the height of phrase  
You raise expression; but 'twill never be▪  
That I shall move, in any Deity,  
So blest an honour. Not by any means,  
If Hope should prompt me, o● blind Confidence,  
(The God of Fools), or every Deity  
Should will it; for, 'tis past my destiny.  
The burning-eyd Dame answered: 
Minerva.  What a speech  
Hath passed the teeth-guard, Nature gave to teach  
Fit question of thy words before they fly?  
God easily can (when to a mortal eye  
he's furthest off) a mortal satisfy: 
Volente Deo, nihil est difficile   
And does, the more still. For thy cared for Sire;  
I rather wish, that I might home retire,  
After my sufferance of a world of woes;  
far off; and then my glad eyes might disclose  
The day of my return; then straight retire,  
And perish standing by my household fire.  
As Agamemnon did; that lost his life,  
By false Aegisthus, and his falser wife.  
For Death to come at length, 'tis due to all;  
Nor can the Gods themselves, when Fate shall call  
Their most loved man, extend his vital breath  
Beyond the fixed bounds of abhorred Death.  
Mentor! 
Telemachus.  (said he) let's dwell no more on this,  
Although in us, the sorrow pious is.  
No such return, as we wish, Fates bequeath  
My erring Father; whom a present death,  
The deathless have decreed. I'll now use speech  
That tends to other purpose; and beseech  
Instruction of grave Nestor; since he flows  
Past shore, in all experience; and knows  
The sleights and wisdoms; to whose heights aspire  
Others, as well as my commended Sire;  
Whom Fame reports to have commanded three  
Ages of men: and doth in sight to me  
Show like th'Immortals. Nestor! the renown  
Of old Neleius; make the clear truth known,  
How the most great in Empire, Atreus son,  
Sustained the act of his destruction.  
Where then was Menelaus? how was it,  
That false Aegisthus, being so far unfit  
A match for him, could his death so enforce?  
Was he not then in Argos? or his course  
With men so left, to let a coward breath  
Spirit enough, to dare his brother's death?  
I'll tell thee truth in all (fair son) said he:  
Right well was this event conceived by thee.  
If Menelaus in his brother's house, 
Nestor Telemacho de Aegi●thi adult●rio.   
Had found the idle liver with his spouse,  
(Arrived from Troy) he had not lived; nor dead  
Had the diggd heap powered on his lustful head:  
But fowls and dogs had torn him in the fields,  
far off of Argos. Not a Dame it yields;  
Had given him any tear; so foul his fact  
Showed even to women. Us Troy's wars had racked  
To every sinews sufferance; while 
* Aegisth●●.  he  
In Argos uplands lived; from those works free.  
And Agamemnon's wife, with force of word  
Flattered and softened; who, at first abhorred  
A fact so infamous. The heavenly Dame,  
A good mind had; but was in blood too blame.  
There was a 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Poet, to whose care, the King  
His Queen committed; and in every thing  
(When he for Troy went) charged him to apply  
Himself in all guard to her dignity.  
But when strong Fate, so wrapt-in her affects,  
That she resolved to leave her fit respects;  
Into a desert I'll, her Guardian led,  
(There left) the rapine of the Vultures fed.  
Then brought he willing home his wills won prize;  
On sacred Altars offered many these▪  
Hung in the Gods Phanes many ornaments;  
Garments and gold; that he the vast events  
Of such a labour, to his wish had brought,  
As neither fell into his hope, nor thought.  
At last, from Troy sailed Spartas king and I,  
Both, holding her untouched. And (that his eye  
Might see no worse of her) when both were blown  
To sacred Sunius (of Minerva's town  
The goodly Promontory) with his shafts severe  
Augur Apollo slew him that did steer  
Atrides ship, as he the stern did guide,  
And she the full speed of her sail applied.  
He was a man, that nations of men  
Excelled in safe guide of a vessel; when  
A tempest rushed in on the ruffld seas:  
His name was Phrontis Onetorides.  
And thus was Menelaus held from home,  
Whose way he thirsted so to overcome;  
To give his friend the earth, being his pursuit,  
And all his exequys to execute.  
But sailing still the 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 cuius facies vin●i representa●  wind-hewd seas, to reach  
Some shore for fit performance; he did fetch  
The steep Mount of the Mali●●s; and there  
With open voice, offended I●piter,  
Proclaimed the voyage, his repugnant mind;  
And poured the puffs out of a shrieking wind,  
That nourished billows, heightened like to hills.  
And with the Fleets division, fulfils  
His hate proclaimed; upon a part of Cr●●te  
Casting the Navy; where the ●ea-wa●●es meet  
Rough I●rdanus; and where the Cyd●●s live.  
There is a Rock, on which the Sea doth drive;  
Bare, and all broken; on the confines set  
Of ●ortys; that the dark seas likewise fret;  
And hither sent the South, a horrid drift  
Of wanes against the top, that was the left  
Of that torn cliff; as far as Phast●● Sttand.  
A little stone, the great ●eas rage did stand.  
The men here driven, scaped hard the ships so●e shocks;  
The ships themselves being wracked against the rocks;  
Save only five, that blue fore-castles bo●e,  
Which wind and water cast on Aegyp●s shore.  
When he (there victling well, and store of gold  
Aboard his ships brought) his wild way did ●old,  
And other languaged men, was forced to room.  
Mean space Aegisthus made sad work at home;  
And slew his brother; forcing to his sway,  
Atrides subjects; 
Ag●mem●onis inte●tus.  and did seven years lay  
His yoke upon the rich Myce●●●● State.  
But in the eight, (to his affrighting fat●)  
Divine Orest●s home from Athe●s came; 
Orestes patrem v●ci●citur.   
And what his royal Father felt, the same  
He made the false Aegisthus groan beneath:  
Death evermore is the reward of Death.  
Thus having slain him; a sepulchral feast  
He made the Argives, for his lustful guest,  
And for his mother, whom he did de●est.  
The self-same day, upon him stole the King,  
(Good at a martial shout) and goods did bring▪  
As many as his freighted Fleet could bear.  
But thou (my son) too long, by no means err,  
Thy goods left free for many a spoilfull guest;  
Lest they consume some, and divide the rest;  
And thou (perhaps beside) thy voyage lose.  
To Menelaus yet thy course dispose,  
I wish and charge thee; who but late arrived,  
From such a shore, and men; as to have lived  
In a return from them; he never thought;  
And whom, black whirlwinds violently brought  
Within a sea so vast, that in a year  
Not any fowl could pass it any where,  
So huge and horrid was it. But go thou  
With ship and men (or if thou pleasest now  
To pass by land, there shall be brought for thee  
Both horse and chariot; and thy guides shall be  
My sons themselves) to Sparta, the divine,  
And to the King, whose locks like▪ Amber shine.  
Entreat the truth of him; nor loves he lies;  
Wisdom in truth is; and he's passing wise.  
This said, the Sun went down, and up rose Night,  
When Pallas spoke; 
Pallas Nestori.  O Father, all good right  
Bear thy directions. But divide we now  
The sacrifices tongues; mix wine; and vow  
To Neptune, and the other ever blest;  
That having sacrifisd, we may to rest.  
The fit hour runs now; light dives ou● of date;  
At sacred feasts, we must not sit too late.  
She said: They heard; the Herald water gave;  
The youths crowned cups with wine; and let all have  
Their equal shares; beginning from the cup,  
Their parting banquet. All the Tongues cut up;  
The fire they gave them; sacrificed, and rose;  
Wine, and divine rites, used to each dispose;  
Minerva and Telemachus desired  
They might to ship be, with his leave, retired.  
He (moved with that) provoked thus their abodes:  
Now jove forbid, and all the long-lived Gods,  
Your leaving me, to sleep aboard a ship:  
As I had drunk of poor Penias whip,  
Even to my nakedness; and had nor sheet,  
Nor covering in my house; that warm nor swe●●e.  
A guest, nor I myself, had means to sleep;  
Where I, both weeds and wealthy coverings keep  
For all my guests: nor shall Fame ever say,  
The dear son of the man Ulysses, lay  
All night a ship board here; while my days shine;  
Or in my Court, whiles any son of mine  
Enjoys suruivall: who shall guests receive,  
Whom ever, my house hath a nook to leave.  
My much loved Father, (said Minerva) well  
All this becomes thee. But persuade to dwell  
This night with thee thy son Telemachus;  
For more convenient is the course for us,  
That he may follow to thy house, and rest.  
And I may board our black sail; that addressed  
At all parts I may make our men; and cheer  
All with my presence; since of all men there  
I boast myself the signior; th'o●hers are  
Youths, that attend in free and friendly care,  
Great-sould Telem●chus; and are his peers,  
In fresh similitude of form and years.  
For their confirmance, I will therefore now  
Sleep in our black Bark. But when Light shall show  
Her silver forehead; I intent my way  
Amongst the Cauco●s; men that are to pay▪  
A debt to me, nor small, nor new. For this,  
Take you him home; whom in the morn dismiss,  
With chariot and your sons; and give him ho●se  
Ablest in strength, and of the speediest course.  
This said; 
Disparet Minerva.  away she flew; formed like the fowl  
Men call the Ossifrage; when every soul  
Amaze invaded: 
Nestor Telemacho.  even th'old man admired;  
The youth's hand took, and said: O most desired;  
My hope says, thy proof will no coward show,  
Nor one unskilled in war; when Deities now  
So young attend thee, and become thy guides:  
Nor any of the heaven-housde States beside;  
But Tritogenias' self; the seed of jove;  
The great in prey; that did in honour move▪  
So much about thy Father; amongst all  
The Grecian army. Fairest Queen, let fall  
On me like favours: give me good renown;  
Which, as on me; on my loved wife, let down,  
And all my children. I will burn to thee  
An Ox right bred, broad headed, and yoke-free,  
To no man's hand yet humbled. Him will I  
(His horns in gold hid) give thy Deity.  
Thus prayed he; and she heard; and home he led  
His sons, and all his heaps of kindred;  
Who entering his Court royal; every one  
He marshalled in his several seat and throne.  
And every one, so kindly come, he gave  
His sweetwine cup; which none was let to have  
Before this leventh year, landed him from Troy;  
Which now the Butleresse had leave t'employ.  
Who therefore pierced it, and did give it vent.  
Of this, the old Duke did a cup present  
To every guest: made his maid many a praire  
That wears the Shield fringed with his nurse's hair;  
And gave her sacrifice. With this rich wine  
And food sufficed, Sleep, all eyes did decline.  
And all for home went: but his Court alone,  
Telemachus, divine Ulysses' son,  
Must make his lodging, or not please his heart.  
A bed, all chequerd with elaborate Art,  
Within a Portico, that rung like brass,  
He brought his guest to; and his bedfere was  
Pisistratus, the martial guide of men,  
That lived, of all his sons, unwed till then.  
Himself lay in a by-room, far above,  
His bed made by his barren wife, his love.  
The rosie-fingerd morn, no sooner shone,  
But up he rose, took air, and sat upon  
A seat of white, and goodly polished stone,  
That such a gloss as richest ointments wore  
Before his high gates; where the Counsellor  
That matched the Gods (his Father) used to sit:  
Who now (by Fate forced) stooped as low as it.  
And here sat Nestor, holding in his hand  
A Sceptre; and about him round did stand  
(As early up) his sons troup; Perseus,  
The Godlike Thrasimed, and 〈◊〉,  
Ec●ephron, Stratius; the sixth and last  
Pisistratus; and by him (half embraced  
Still as they came) divine Telemachus;  
To these spoke Nestor, old Gerenius:  
Haste (loved sons) and do me a desire, 
Nestoris filii patris jussu Mineruae sacrum apparent.   
That (first of all the Gods) I may aspire  
To Pallas favour; who vouchsafed to me,  
At Neptune's feast, her sight so openly.  
Let one to field go; and an Ox with speed  
Cause hither brought; which, let the Herdsman lead;  
Another to my dear guests vessel go,  
And all his soldiers bring, save only two.  
A third, the Smith that works in gold, command  
(Laertius) to attend; and lend his hand,  
To plate the both horns round about with gold▪  
The rest remain here close. But first, see told  
The maids within, that they prepare a feast;  
Set ●eates through all the Court: see straight addressed  
The purest water; and get fuel field.  
This said; not one, but in the service held  
Officious hand. The Ox came led from field;  
The Soldiers trooped from ship; 
The form of the Sacrifice.  the Smith he came,  
And those tools brought, that served the actual frame,  
His Art conceived; brought Anvil, hammers brought,  
Fair tongues, and all, with which the gold was wrought.  
Minerva likewise came, to set the Crown  
On that kind sacrifice, and make't her own.  
Then th'old Knight Nestor gave the Smith the gold,  
With which he straight did both the horns enfold;  
And trimmed the Offering so, the Goddess joyed.  
About which, thus were Nestor's sons employed:  
Divine Echephron, and fair Stratius,  
Held both the horns: the water odorous,  
In which they washed, what to the rites was vowed,  
Aretus (in a cauldron, all bestrowd  
With herbs and flowers) served in from th'holy room  
Where all were dressed; and whence the rites must come.  
And after him, a hallowd virgin came,  
That brought the barley cake, and blew the flame.  
The axe, with which the Ox should both be field  
And cut forth, Thrasimed stood by▪ and held.  
Perseus' the vessel held, that should retain  
The purple liquor of the offering slain.  
Then washed, the pious Father: then the Cake  
(Of barley, salt, and oil made) took, and broke.  
Asked many a boon of Pallas; and the state  
Of all the offering, did initiate.  
In three parts cutting off the hair, and cast  
Amidst the flame. All th'invocation past,  
And all the Cake broke; manly Thr●simed  
Stood near, and sure; and such a blow he laid  
Aloft the offering; that to earth he sunk,  
His neck-nerues sunderd, and his spirits shrunk.  
Ou●●●●iekt the daughters, daughter in laws, and wife  
Of three-aged Nestor, (who had eldest life  
Of Clymen's daughters) chaste Eurydice.  
The Ox on broad earth, then laid laterally,  
They held, while Duke Pisi●tr●tus, the throat  
Dissolved and set, the sable blood afflo●e;  
And then the life the bones left. Instantly  
They cut him up; apart flew either Thy;  
That with the fat they dubbed, with art alone;  
The throte-briske, and the sweetbread pricking on.  
Then Nestor broiled them on the cole-turnd wood,  
Poured black wine on; and by him young men stood,  
That spits fine-pointed held, on which (when burnt  
The solid these were) they transfixed, and turned  
The inwards, cut in cantles: which (the meat  
Vowed to the Gods, consumed) they roast and eat.  
In mean space, Polycaste (called the fair,  
Nestor's youngest daughter) bathed Ulysses' heir;  
Whom, having cleansed, and with rich balms bespread;  
She cast a white shirt quickly o'er his head,  
And then his weeds put on; when, forth he went,  
And did the person of a God present.  
Came, and by Nestor took his honoured seat,  
This pastor of the people. Then, the meat  
Of all the spare parts roasted; off they drew;  
Sat, and fell to. But soon the temperate few,  
Rose, and in golden bowls, filled others wine.  
Till, when the rest felt thirst of feast decline;  
Nestor his sons bad, fetch his high-maned horse,  
And them in chariot join, to run the course  
The Prince resolved. Obeyed, as soon as heard  
Was Nestor by his sons; who straight prepared  
Both horse and chariot. She that kept the store,  
Both bread and wine, and all such viands more,  
As should the feast of jove-fed Kings compose;  
Pouruaid the voyage. To the rich Coach, rose  
Ulysses' son; 
Telemachus profici●citur ad Menclaum.  and close to him ascended  
The Duke Pisistratus; the reins intended,  
And scourged, to force to field, who freely flew;  
And left the Town, that far her splendour threw.  
Both holding yoke, and shook it all the day;  
But now the Sun set, darkening every way,  
When they to Pheris came; and in the house  
Of Diocles (the son t' Ortiloc●us,  
Whom flood Alpheus got) slept all that night:  
Who gave them each due hospitable rite.  
But when the rosie-fingerd morn arose,  
They went to Coach, and did their horse enclose;  
Drove forth the fore-court, and the porch that yields  
Each breath a sound; and to the fruitful fields  
Road scourging still their willing flying Steeds;  
Who strenuously performed their wont speeds.  
Their journey ending just when Sun went down;  
And shadows all ways through the earth were thrown.  
Finis libri tertij Hom. Odyss.   

THE FOURTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Received now, in the Spart●● Court  
Telemachus, prefers report  
To Menelaus, 
Menelaus.  of the throng  
Of wooer's with 〈◊〉, and their wrong.  
Atrides tells the greeks retre●te,  
And doth a Prophecy repeat,  
That Protens●ade ●ade; by which he knew  
His brother's death; and then d●th show  
How wish Calypso li●'d the fire  
Of his young guest. The wooers conspire  
Their Prince's death: wh●se treachery known,  
Penelope in tears doth dr●wne.  
Whom Pallas by a 〈…〉,  
And in 〈◊〉 appear  
Of fair Iphthima, 〈◊〉 to be  
The sister of Penelope.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

Here, of the Sire  
The 〈◊〉 d●th hear:  
The wooers conspire;  
The mother's fear.    
IN Laced●●● now, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which is expounded Spar tam amplam, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 magnam: where 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. signifies properly plurima cete nutrientem.  the nurse of Whales,  
These two arrived, and found at festivals  
(With mighty concourse) the renowned King,  
His son and daughter, jointly marrying.  
Alectors daughter, he did give his son  
Strong 〈◊〉; who his life begun  
By Menelaus' bondmaid; whom he knew  
In years. When Helen could no more renew  
In issue like divine 〈◊〉;  
Who held in all fair form, as high degree  
As golden Venus. Her he married now  
To great Achilles' son; who was by vow  
Betrothed to her at Tr●y. And thus the Gods  
To constant loves, give nuptial periods.  
Whose state here past, the Myrmidons rich town  
(Of which she shared in the Imperial Crown)  
With horse and chariots he resigned her to.  
Mean space, the high huge house, with feast did flow  
Of friends and neighbours, joying with the King.  
Amongst whom, did a heavenly Poet sing,  
And touch his Harp. Amongst whom likewise danced  
Two; who in that dumb motion advanced,  
Would prompt 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Cantum auspicantes: of which place, the Critiks affirm, that saltatores morn suo indicant cantori, quo genere cantus ●altaturi forent. The rapture of Eteoneus at sight of Telemachus and Pisistratus.  the Singer, what to sing and play.  
All this time, in the utter Court did stay,  
With horse and chariot, Telemachus,  
And Nestor's noble son, Pisistratus.  
Whom Eteoneus coming forth, descried,  
And, being a servant to the King, most tried  
In care, and his respect; he ran and cried:  
Guests! jove-kept Menelaus! two such men,  
As are for form, of high Saturnius strain.  
Inform your pleasure, if we shall unclose  
Their horse from coach; or say, they must dispose  
Their way to some such house, as may embrace  
Their known arrival, with more welcome grace?  
He (angry) answered, Thou didst never show  
Thyself a fool (Beotides) till now; 
Menelaus' rebukes his 〈◊〉 for his doubt to entertain gnests worthy.   
But now (as if turned child) a childish speech  
Vents thy vain spirits. We ourselves now reach  
Our home, by much spent hospitality  
Of other men; nor know, if jove will try,  
With other after wants, our state again:  
And therefore, from our feast, no more detain  
Those welcome guests; but take their Steeds from Coach,  
And with attendance guide in their approach.  
This said, he rushed abroad, and called some more  
Tried in such service; that together bore  
Up to the guests: and took their Steeds that sweat  
Beneath their yokes, from Coach. At mangers set,  
Wheat and white barley gave them mixed; and placed  
Their Chariot by a wall so clear, it cast  
A light quite through it. And then they led  
Their guests to the divine house; which so fed  
Their eyes at all parts with illustrious sights,  
That Admiration seized them. Like the lights  
The Sun and Moon gave; all the Palace threw  
A lustre through it. Satiate with whose view,  
Down to the Kings most bright-kept Baths, they went;  
Where handmaids did their services present:  
Bathed, balmd them; shirts, and well-napt weeds put on,  
And by Atrides side, set each his throne.  
Then did the handmaid royal, water bring,  
And to a Laver, rich and glittering,  
Of massy gold, poured: which she placed upon  
A silver Cauldron; into which, might run  
The water as they washed. Then set she near  
A polished table; on which, all the cheer  
The present could afford; a reverend Dame  
That kept the Larder, set. A Cook than came,  
And divers dishes, borne thence, served again;  
Furnished the board with bowls of gold; and then  
(His right hand given the guests) Atrides said,  
Eat, and be cheerful; appetite allayed,  
I long to ask, of what stock ye descend;  
For not from parents, whose race nameless end,  
We must derive your offspring. Men obscure,  
Could get none such as you. The portraiture  
Of jove-sustaind, and Scepter-bearing Kings,  
Your either person, in his presence brings.  
An Ox's fat chine, than they up did lift,  
And set before the guests; which was a gift,  
Sent as an honour, to the Kings own taste.  
They saw yet, 'twas but to be eaten placed,  
And fell to it. But food and wines care past,  
Telemachus thus prompted Nestor's son;  
(His ear close laying, to be heard of none)  
Consider (thou whom most my mind esteems)  
The brasse-worke here, 
Telemachus to Pisistratus, in observation of the house, not so much that he heartily admired it, as to please Menelaus, who he knew heard, though he seemed desirous he should not hear.  how rich it is in beams;  
And how beside, it makes the whole house sound?  
What gold, and amber, silver, ivory, round  
Is wrought about it. Our of doubt, the Hall  
Of jupiter Olympius, hath of all  
This state, the like. How many infinites,  
Take up to admiration, all men's sights?  
Atrides overheard; and said; Loved son,  
No mortal must affect contention  
With jove, 
Menelaus relates his travels to his guests.  whose dwellings are of endless date.  
Perhaps (of men) some one may emulate,  
(Or none) my house, or me. For I am one,  
That many a grave extreme have undergone.  
Much error felt by sea; and till th● eight year,  
Had never stay; but wandered far and near,  
Cyprus, Phoenicia, and Syd●nia;  
And fetched the far off Aethiopia:  
Reached the Erembi of Arabia;  
And Lybia, where, with horns, Ewes yeane their Lambs:  
Where every full year, Ewes are three times dams.  
Where neither King, nor shepherd; want comes near  
Of cheese, or flesh, or sweet milk. All the year  
They ever milk their Ewes. And here while I  
Erred, gathering means to live: one, murtherously,  
Unwares, unseen, bereft my brother's life;  
Chiefly betrayed by his abhorred wife.  
So, hold I, (not enjoying) what you see.  
And of your Fathers (if they living be)  
You must have heard this: since my sufferings were  
So great and famous. From this Palace here,  
(So rarely-well-built; furnished so well;  
And substanced with such a precious deal  
Of well-got treasure) banished by the doom  
Of Fate; and erring as I had no home.  
And now I have, and use it; not to take  
Th'entire delight it offers; but to make  
Continual wishes, that a triple part  
Of all it holds, were wanting; so my heart  
Were eased of sorrows (taken for their deaths  
That fell at Troy) by their revived breaths.  
And thus sit I here, weeping, mourning still  
Each least man lost; and sometimes make mine ill  
(In paying just tears for their loss) my joy.  
Sometimes I breath my woes; for in annoy▪  
The pleasure soon admits satiety.  
But all these men's wants, wet not so mine eye,  
(Though much they move me) as one sole man's miss;  
For which, my sleep and meat even loathsome is,  
In his renewed thought; since no Greek hath won  
Grace, for such labours, as 
* Intending Ulysses.  La●rtes son  
Hath wrought and suffered: to himself, nought else  
But future sorrows forging: to me, hells  
For his long absence; since I cannot know  
If life or death detain him: since such woe  
For his love, old Laertes, his wise wife,  
And poor young son sustains; whom new with life,  
He left as sirelesse. This speech; grief to tears  
(powered from the sons lids on the earth) his ears  
(Told of the Father) did excite; who kept  
His cheeks dry with his red weed, as he wept:  
His both hands used therein. Atrides then  
Began to know him; and did 〈◊〉 retain,  
If he should let, himself confess his Sire,  
Or with all fitting circumstance, inquire.  
While this, his thoughts disputed; forth did shine,  
(Like to the golden 
* Diana. Helen's reparance and ornament.  distaffe-deckt divine)  
From her beds high and odoriferous room,  
Hellen. To whom (of an elaborate loom)  
Adresta set a chair: Alcyppe brought  
A piece of Tapestry, of fine wool wrought.  
Philo, a silver Cabinet conferred:  
(Given by Alcandra, Nuptially endear  
To Lord Polybius; whose abode in Thebes,  
Th'Aegyptian city was;) where wealth in heaps,  
His famous house held: out of which did go  
In gift t' Atrides, silver bath-tubs two;  
Two Tripods; and of fine gold, talents ten.  
His wife did likewise send to Helen then,  
Fair gifts; a Distaff that of gold was wrought;  
And that rich Cabinet that Phyl● brought;  
Round, and with gold ribbed; now of fine thread, full:  
On which extended (crowned with finest wool,  
Of violet gloss) the golden Distaff lay.  
She took her State-chaire; and a foot-stoo●●s stay  
Had for her feet: and of her husband, thus  
Asked to know all things: Is it known to us,  
(King Menelaus) 
Helen to Menelaus concerning the guests.  whom these men commend  
Themselves for; that our Court, now takes to friend?  
I must affirm, (be I deceived or no)  
I never yet saw man nor woman so  
Like one another, as this man is like  
Ulysses' son. With admiration str●ke  
His looks, my thoughts; that they should carry now  
power to persuade me thus; who did but know,  
When newly he was borne, the form they bore.  
But 'tis his Father's grace; whom more and more  
His grace resembles; that makes meretaine  
Thought, that he now, is like Telemachus then:  
Left by his Sire, when Greece did undertake  
Troy's bold war, for my impudencies sake.  
He answered: Now wife, what you think, I know,  
The true cast of his Father's eye, doth show  
In his eyes order. Both his head and hair,  
His hands and feet, his very fathers are.  
Of whom (so well remembered) I should now  
Acknowledge for me, his continual flow  
Of cares and perils: yet still patient.  
But I should too much move him, that doth vent  
Such bitter tears for that which hath been spoke;  
Which (shunning soft show) see how he would cloak;  
And with his purple weed, his weep hide.  
Then Nestor's son, Pisistratus replied:  
Great Pastor of the people, kept of God  
He is Ulysses' son; 
Pisistrat●● tells who they are.  but his abode  
Not made before here; and he modest too;  
He holds it an indignity to do  
A deed so vain, to use the boast of words,  
Where your words are on wing; whose voice affords  
Delight to us, as if a God did break  
The air amongst us, and vouchsafe to speak.  
But me, my father (old Duke Nestor) sent  
To be his consort hither; his content,  
Not to be heightened so, as with your sight.  
In hope that therewith words and actions might  
Inform his comforts from you; since he is  
Extrernely grieved and injured, by the miss  
Of his great Father; suffering even at home.  
And few friends found, to help him overcome  
His too weak sufferance, now his Sire is gone.  
Amongst the people, not afforded one  
To check the miseries, that mate him thus;  
And this the state is of Telemachus. 
Menelaus' joy for Telemachus, and moan for Ulysses' absence.   
O Gods (said he) how certain, now, I see  
My house enjoys that friend's son, that for me  
Hath undergone so many willing fights?  
Whom I resolved, past all the Grecian Knights,  
To hold in love; if our return by seas,  
The far-off Thunderer did ever please  
To grant our wishes. And to his respect,  
A Palace and a City to erect,  
My vow had bound me. Whither bringing then  
His riches, and his son, and all his men  
From barren Ithaca, (some one sole Town  
Inhabited about him, battered down)  
All should in Argos live. And there would I  
Ease him of rule; and take the Empery  
Of all on me. And often here would we  
(Delighting, loving either's company)  
Meet and converse; whom nothing should divide,  
Till deaths black veil did each all over hide.  
But this perhaps had ben● a mean to take  
Even God himself with envy; who did make  
Ulysses therefore only the unblessed,  
That should not reach his loved country's rest.  
These woes made every one with woe in love;  
Even Argive Helen wept, (the seed of jove)  
Ulysses son wept; Atreus 
* Menelaus.  son did weep;  
And Nestor's son, his eyes in tears did steep.  
But his tears fell not from the present cloud,  
That from Ulysses was exhaled; but flowed  
From brave Antilochus remembered due,  
Whom the renowned 
* Pisistratus weeps with remembrance of his brother Antilochus. Vid. Memnon.  Son of the Morning slew.  
Which yet he thus excused: O Atreus son!  
Old Nestor says, There lives not such a one  
Amongst all mortals, as Atrides is,  
For deathless wisdom. 'tis a praise of his,  
Still given in your remembrance; when at home  
Our speech concerns you. Since then overcome  
You please to be, with sorrow even to tears,  
That are in wisdom so exempt from peers;  
Vouchsafe the like effect in me excuse,  
(If it be lawful) I affect no use  
Of tears thus, after meals; at least, at night:  
But when the morn brings forth, with tears, her light,  
It shall not then impair me to bestow  
My tears on any worthies overthrow.  
It is the only right, that wretched men  
Can do dead friends; to cut hair, and complain.  
But Death my brother took; whom none could call  
The Grecian coward; you best knew of all.  
I was not there, nor saw; but men report,  
Antilochus excelled the common sort,  
For footmanship, or for the Chariot race;  
Or in the fight, for hardy hold of place.  
O friend (said he) since thou hast spoken so,  
At all parts, as one wise should say and do;  
And like one, far beyond thyself in years;  
Thy words shall bounds be, to our former tears.  
O he is questionless a right borne son,  
That of his Father hath not only won  
The person, but the wisdom; and that Sire;  
(Complete himself) that hath a son entire,  
jove did not only his full Fate adorn,  
When he was wedded; but when he was borne.  
As now Saturnius, through his life's whole date,  
Hath Nestor's bliss raised to as steep a state:  
Both in his age to keep in peace his house;  
And to have children wise and valorous.  
But let us not forget our rear Feast thus;  
Let some give water here. Telemachus!  
The morning shall yield time to you and me,  
To do what fits; and reason mutually.  
This said; the careful servant of the King;  
(Asphalion) poured on, th'issue of the Spring;  
And all to ready feast, set ready hand.  
But Helen now, 
Helen's potion against Cares.  on new device did stand;  
Infusing straight a medicine to their wine,  
That (drowning Cares and Angers) did decline  
All thought of ill. Who drunk her cup, could shed  
All that day, not a tear; no not if dead  
That day his father or his mother were;  
Not if his brother, child, or chiefest dear,  
He should see murdered then before his face.  
Such useful medicines (only borne in grace,  
Of what was good) would Helen ever have.  
And this juice to her, Polydamma gave  
The wife of Thoon; an Egyptian borne;  
Whose rich earth, herbs of medicine do adorn  
In great abundance. Many healthful are,  
And many baneful. Every man is there  
A good Physician, out of nature's grace;  
For all the nation sprung of Paeons' race.  
When Helen 
Helen of Ulysses and the sack of Troy.  then her medicine had infused,  
She bad power wine to it, and this speech used:  
Atrides, and these good men's sons; great jove  
Makes good and ill, one after other move  
In all things earthly: for he can do all.  
The woes passed therefore, he so late let fall;  
The comforts he affords us, let us take;  
Feast, and with fit discourses, merry make.  
Nor will I other use. As than our blood  
Grieved for Ulysses, since he was so good;  
Since he was good, let us delight to hear  
How good he was, and what his sufferings were.  
Though every fight, and every suffering deed,  
Patient Ulysses underwent; exceed  
My woman's power to number, or to name.  
But what he did, and suffered, when he came  
Amongst the Troyans', (where ye Grecians all  
took part with sufferance) I in part can call  
To your kind memories. How with ghastly wounds  
Himself he mangled; and the Trojan bounds  
(Thrust thick with enemies) adventured on:  
His royal shoulders, having cast upon  
Base abject weeds, and entered like a slave.  
Then (beggarlike) he did of all men crave;  
And such a wretch was, as the whole Greek fleet  
Brought not beside. And thus through every street  
He crept discovering: of no one man known.  
And yet through all this difference, I alone  
Smoked his true person. Talked with him. But he  
Fled me with wiles still. Nor could we agree,  
Till I disclaimed him quite. And so (as moved  
With womanly remorse, of one that proved  
So wretched an estate, what ere he were)  
Won him to take my house. And yet even there;  
Till freely I (to make him doubtless) swore  
A powerful oath, to let him reach the shore  
Of ships and tents, before Troy understood;  
I could not force on him his proper good.  
But then I bathed and soothed him, and he then  
Confessed, and told me all. And (having slain  
A number of the Trojan guards) retired,  
And reached the Fleet; for slight and force admired.  
Their husband's deaths by him, the Trojan wives  
Shrickt for; but I made triumphs for their lives.  
For than my heart conceived, that once again  
I should reach home; and yet did still retain  
Woe for the slaughters, Venus made for me:  
When both my husband, my Hermio●e,  
And bridal room, she robbed of so much right;  
And drew me from my country, with her sleight.  
Though nothing under heaven, I here did need,  
That could my Fancy, or my Beauty feed.  
Her husband said: 
Menelaus to Helen and his guests.  Wife! what you please to tell,  
Is true at all parts, and becomes you well.  
And I myself, that now may say, have seen  
The minds and manners of a world of men:  
And great Heroes, measuring many a ground,  
Have never (by these eyes that light me) found  
One, with a bosom, so to be beloved,  
As that in which, th'accomplished spirit, moved  
Of patient Ulysses. What (brave man)  
He both did act, and suffer, when we won  
The town of Ilium, in the brave-built horse,  
When all we chief States of the Grecian force,  
Were housde together; bringing Death and Fate  
Amongst the Troyans'; you (wife) may relate.  
For you, at last, came to us; God that would  
The Troyans' glory give; gave charge you should  
Approach the engine; and Deipho●us  
(The godlike) followed. Thrice ye cir●'d us,  
With full survey of it; and often tried  
The hollow crafts, that in it were implied.  
When all the voices of their wives in it  
You took on you; 
Helen counterfeited the wives voices of those Kings of Greece, that were in the wooden horse, and calls their husband.  with voice so like, and fit;  
And every man by name, so visited;  
That I, Ulysses, and King Diomedes,  
(Set in the midst, and hearing how you called)  
Tydides', and myself, (as half appalld  
With your remorseful plaints) would, passing fain  
Have broke our silence; rather than again  
Endure, respectless, their so moving cries.  
But, Ithacus, our strongest fantasies  
Contained within us, from the slenderest noise,  
And every man there, sat without a voice.  
Anticlus only, would have answered thee:  
But, his speech, Ithacus incessantly  
With strong hand held in: till (Minerva's call,  
Charging thee off) Ulysses saved us all.  
Telemachus replied: 
Telemachus to Menelaus.  Much greater is  
My grief, for hearing this high praise of his.  
For all this doth not his sad death divert;  
Nor can, though in him swelled an iron heart.  
Prepare, and lead then (if you please) to rest:  
Sleep (that we hear not) will content us best.  
Then Argive Helen made he handmaid go,  
And put fair bedding in the Portico;  
Lay purple blankets on, 
Itur ad lecturn.  Rugs warm and soft;  
And cast and Arras coverlet aloft.  
They torch's took; made haste, and made the bed,  
When both the guests were to their lodgings led,  
Within a Portico, without the house.  
Atrides, and his large-traine-wearing Spouse,  
(The excellent of women) for the way,  
In a retired receipt, together lay.  
The morn arose; the King rose, and put on  
His royal weeds; his sharp sword hung upon  
His ample shoulders; forth his chamber went,  
And did the person of a God present.  
Telemachus accosts him; who begun  
Speech of his journeys proposition.  
And what (my young Vlyssean Hero)  
Provoked thee on the broad back of the sea, 
Menelaus inquires the cause of his ●oyage.   
To visit Lacedaemon the Divine?  
Speak truth; Some publicke● or only thine?  
I come (said he) to hear, if any fame  
Breathed of my Father; to thy notice came.  
My house is sacked; my fat works of the field,  
Are all destroyed: my house doth nothing yield  
But enemies; that kill my harmless sheep,  
And sinewy Oxen: nor will ever keep  
Their steels without them. And these men are they,  
That woo my Mother; most inhumanly  
Committing injury on injury.  
To thy knees therefore I am come, t'attend  
Relation of the sad and wretched end,  
My erring Father felt: if witnessed by  
Your own eyes; or the certain news that fly  
From others knowledges. For, more than is  
The usual heap of human miseries,  
His Mother bore him to. Vouchsafe me then  
(Without all ruth of what I can sustain)  
The plain and simple truth of all you know.  
Let me beseech so much. If ever vow  
Was made, and put in good effect to you  
At Troy (where sufferance bred you so much smart)  
Upon my Father, good Ulysses' part;  
And quit it now to me (himself in youth)  
Unfolding only the unclosed truth.  
He (deeply sighing) answered him: O shame  
That such poor vassals should affect the fame,  
To share the joys of such a Worthies Bed!  
As when a Hind (her calves late farrowed  
To give suck) enters the bold lions den:  
He, roots of hills, and herbie valleys then  
For food (there feeding) hunting: but at length  
Returning to his Caverne; gives his strength  
The lives of both the mother and her brood,  
In deaths indecent; so the 〈…〉  
Must pay Ulysses powers, as sharp an end.  
O would to jove, Apollo, and thy friend,  
(The wise Minerva) that thy Father were  
As once he was, when he his spirits did rear  
Against Philomelides, in a fight  
Performed in well-built Lesbos; where, downright  
He struck the earth with him; and got a shout  
Of all the Grecians. O, if now, full out  
He were as then; and with the wooers coped,  
Short-lived they all were; and their nuptials, hoped  
Would prove as desperate. But for thy demand,  
Enforced with prayers; I'll let thee understand  
The truth directly; nor decline a thought;  
Much less deceive, or soothe thy search in aught.  
But what the old, and still-true-spoken God,  
That from the sea breathes oracles 〈◊〉,  
Disclosed to me; to thee I'll all impart,  
Nor hide one word from thy solicitous heart.  
I was in Egypt; 
Menelai navigatio.  where a mighty time,  
The Gods detained me: though my natural clime,  
I never so desired; because their homes  
I did not greet, with perfect Hecatombs.  
For they will put men evermore in mind,  
How much their masterly commandments bind.  
There is (besides) a certain Island, called  
Ph●ros, that with the high-waued sea is walled;  
Just against Egypt; and so much remote,  
As in a whole day, with a fore-gale 〈◊〉,  
A hollow ship can sail. And this I'll bears  
A Port, most portly; where sea-passengers  
Put in still for fresh water, and away  
To sea again. Yet here the Gods did stay  
My Fleet, full twenty days: the winds (that are  
Masters at sea) no prosperous puff would spare,  
To put us off: and all my victles here.  
Had quite corrupted; as my men's minds were;  
Had not a certain Goddess given regard,  
And pittide me in an estate so hard:  
And 'twas Edothea, honoured Proteus seed,  
That old sea-farer. Her mind I made bleed  
With my compassion, when (walked all alone,  
From all my soldiers, that were ever gone  
About the I'll on fishing, with hooks bend;  
Hunger, their bellies, on her errand sent)  
She came close to me; spoke; and thus began:  
Of all men, thou art the most foolish man,  
Or slack in business; or stay'st here of choice;  
And dost in all thy sufferances rejoice;  
That thus long liv'st detained here; and no end  
Canst give thy tarriance. Thou dost much offend  
The minds of all thy fellows. I replied:  
Who ever thovart of the Deified,  
I must affirm, that no way with my will,  
I make abode here: but, it seems, some ill  
The Gods, inhabiting broad heaven, sustain  
Against my getting off. Inform me then,  
(For Godheads all things know) what God is he  
That stays my passage, from the fishie sea?  
Stranger (said she) I'll tell thee true: there lives  
An old Sea-farer in these seas, 
Idothea to Menelaus.  that gives  
A true solution of all secrets here.  
Who, deathless Proteus is, th'Aegyptian Peer:  
Who can the deeps of all the seas exquire;  
Who Neptune's Priest is; and (they say) the Sire  
That did beget me. Him, if any way  
Thou couldst inveigle, he would clear display  
Thy course from hence; and how far off doth lie  
Thy voyages whole scope through Neptune's sky.  
Informing thee (O Godpreserued) beside  
(If thy desires would so be satisfied)  
What ever good or ill hath got event,  
In all the time, thy long and hard course spent,  
Since thy departure from thy house. This said;  
Again I answered: Make the sleights displayed,  
Thy Father useth; lest his foresight see,  
Or his foreknowledge taking note of me,  
He flies the ●ixt place of his used abode;  
'tis hard for man to countermine with God.  
She straight replied: I'll utter truth in all;  
When heavens supremest height, 
Idotheas' couns●●● to take her father Proteus.  the Sun doth skall;  
The old Sea-tell-truth leaves the deeps, and hides  
Amidst a black storm, when the West wind chides;  
In caves still sleeping. Round about him sleep  
(With short feet swimming forth the foamy deep)  
The Sea-calues (lovely Halosydnes called)  
From whom a noisome odour is exhalld,  
Got from the whirlpools, on whose earth they lie.  
Here, when the morn illustrates all the sky,  
I'll guide, and seat thee, in the fittest place,  
For the performance thou hast now in chase.  
In mean time, reach thy Fleet; and choose out three  
Of best exploit, to go as aids to thee.  
But now I'll show thee all the old God's sleights; 
The sleights of Proteus.   
He first will number, and take all the sights  
Of those, his guard, that on the shore arrives.  
When having viewed, and told them forth by five;  
He takes place in their midst, and there doth sleep,  
Like to a shepherd midst his flock of sheep.  
In his first sleep, call up your hardiest cheer,  
Vigour and violence, and hold him there,  
In spite of all his strive to be gone.  
He then will turn himself to every one  
Of all things that in earth creep and respire,  
In water swim, or shine in heavenly fire.  
Yet still hold you him firm; and much the more  
Press him from passing. But when, as before  
(When sleep first bound his powers) his form ye see,  
Then cease your force, and th'old Hero free;  
And then demand, which heaven-borne it may be  
That so afflicts you, hindering your retreat,  
And free sea-passage to your native seat.  
This said, she dived into the wavie seas;  
And I my course did to my ships address,  
That on the sands stuck; where arrived, we made  
Our supper ready. Then th'Ambrosian shade  
Of night fell on us; and to sleep we fell.  
Rosy Aurora rose; we rose as well;  
And three of them, on whom I most relied,  
For firm at every force; I choosed, and hied  
Straight to the many-river-serued seas.  
And all assistance, asked the Deities.  
Mean time Ed●thea, the seas broad breast  
Embraced; and brought for me, and all my rest,  
Four of the sea-calues skins, but newly flayed,  
To work a wile, which she had fashioned  
Upon her Father. Then (within the sand  
A covert digging) when these Calves should land,  
She sat expecting. We came close to her:  
She placed us orderly; and made us wear  
Each one his calves skin. But we then must pass  
A huge exploit. The sea-calues savour was  
So passing sour (they still being bred at seas)  
It much afflicted us: for who can please  
To lie by one of these same sea-bred whales? 
Ironicè.   
But she preserves us; and to memory calls  
A rare commodity: she fetched to us  
Ambrosia, that an air most odorous  
Bears still about it; which she anointed round  
Our either nostrils; and in it quite drowned  
The nasty whale-smell. Then the great event,  
The whole morn's date, with spirits patient  
We lay expecting. When bright Noon did flame  
Forth from the sea, in Sholes the sea-calues came,  
And orderly, at last, lay down and slept  
Along the sands. And than th'old sea-god crept  
From forth the deeps; and found his sat calves there:  
Surveyed, and numbered; and came never near  
The craft we used; but told us five for calves.  
His temples then diseased, with sleep he salves;  
And in rushed we, with an abhorred cry:  
Cast all our hands about him manfully,  
And than th'old Forger, all his forms began:  
First was a Lion, with a mighty mane;  
Then next a Dragon; a pied Panther then;  
A vast Boar next; and suddenly did strain  
All into water. Last, he was a tree,  
Curled all at top, and shot up to the sky.  
We, with resolved hearts, held him firmly still,  
When th'old one (held to straight for all his skill, 
Proteus taken by Men●la●●.   
To extricate) gave words, and questioned me:  
Which of the Gods, O Atreus son, (said he)  
Advised and taught thy fortitude this sleight,  
To take and hold me thus, in my despite?  
What asks thy wish now? I replied: Thou know'st:  
Why dost thou ask? What wiles are these thou show'st  
I have within this I'll, been held for wind  
A wondrous time; and ca● by no means find  
An end to my retention. It hath spent  
The very heart in me. Give thou then vent  
To doubts thus bound in me, (ye Gods know all)  
Which of the Godheads, doth so foully fall  
On my addression home, to stay me here?  
Avert me from my way? The fishie clear,  
Barred to my passage? He replied: Of force  
(If to thy home, thou wishest free recourse)  
To jove, and all the other Deities,  
Thou must exhibit solemn sacrifice;  
And then the black sea for thee shall be clear,  
Till thy loved countries settled reach. But where  
Ask these rites thy performance? ●Tis a fate  
To thee and thy affairs appropriate,  
That thou shalt never see thy friends, nor tread  
Thy Country's earth; nor see inhabited  
Thy so magnificent house; till thou make good  
Thy voyage back to the Egyptian flood,  
Whose waters fell from I●●e: and there hast gi●en  
To jove, and all Gods, housed in ample heaven,  
Devoted Hecatombs; and then free ways  
Shall open to thee; cleared of all delays.  
This told he; and me thought, he b●●ke my heart,  
In such a long and hard course to divert  
My hope for home; and charge my back retreat,  
As far as Egypt. I made answer yet:  
Father, thy charge I'll perfect; but before,  
Resolve me truly, if their natural ●hore,  
All those Greeks, and their ships, do safe enjoy,  
That Nestor and myself left, when from Troy  
We first raised sail? Or whether any died  
At sea a death unwisht? Or (satisfied)  
When war was past, by friends embraced, in peace  
Resigned their spirits? He made answer: Cease  
To ask so far; it fits thee not to be  
So cunning in thine own calamity.  
Nor seek to learn; what learned, thou shouldst forget;  
men's knowledges have proper limits set,  
And should not press into the mind of God.  
But 'twill not long be (as my thoughts abode)  
Before thou buy this curious skill with tea●es.  
Many of those, whose states so tempt thine ears,  
Are stooped by Death; and many left alive:  
One chief of which, in strong hold doth survive,  
Amidst the broad sea. Two, in their retreat,  
Are done to death. I list not to repeat,  
Who fell at Troy; thyself was there in fight.  
But in return, swift Ajax lost the light,  
In his long-oard ship. Neptune yet a while,  
Saft him unwrackt: 
The wrack of Ajax Oileus.  to the Gyr●an I'll,  
A mighty Rock ●emo●ing from his way.  
And surely he had scaped the fatal day,  
In spite of Pallas, if to that foul deed,  
He in her Fane did, 
Cassandra.  (when he ravished  
The Trojan Prophetess) he had not here  
Adjoind an impious boast: that he would bear  
(Despite the Gods) his ship safe through the waves  
Then raised against him. These his impious braves,  
When Neptune heard; in his strong hand he took  
His massy Trident; and so sound struck  
The rock Gyraean, that in two it cloven:  
Of which, one fragment on the land he left;  
The other fell into the troubled seas;  
At which, first rushed Ajax Oileades,  
And split his ship: and then himself afloat  
Swum on the rough waves of the world's va●t mo●e;  
Till having drunk a salt cup for his sin,  
There perished he. Thy brother yet did win  
The wreath from Death, while in the waves they strove,  
Afflicted by the reverend wife of jove.  
But when the steep Mount of the Malean shore,  
He seemed to reach; a most tempestuous blore,  
far to the fishie world, that sighs so sore,  
Straight ravished him again; as far away,  
As to th'extreme bounds where the Agrians stay;  
Where first Thyestes' dwelled: but then his son  
Aegisthus Thiestiades lived. This done,  
When his return untouched appeared again;  
Back turned the Gods the wind; and set him then  
Hard by his house. Then, full of joy, he left  
His ship; and close t'his country earth he cloven;  
Kissed it, and wept for joy: powered tear on tear,  
To set so wishedly his footing there.  
But see: a Sentinel that all the year,  
Crafty Aegisthus, in a watchtowre set  
To spy his landing; for reward as great  
As two gold talents; all his powers did call  
To strict remembrance of his charge; and all  
Discharged at first sight; which at first he cast  
On Agamemnon; and with all his haste,  
Informed Aeg●sthus. He, an instant train  
Laid for his slaughter: Twenty chosen men  
Of his Plebeians, he in ambush laid.  
His other men, he charged to see puruaid  
A Feast: and forth, with horse and chariots graced,  
He road t'inui●e him: but in heart embraced  
Horrible welcomes: and to death did bring,  
With treacherous slaughter, the unwary King.  
Received him at a Feast; and (like an Ox  
Slain at his manger) gave him bits and knocks. 
Agamemnon's slaughter by Aegisthu● treachery.   
No one left of Atrides train; nor one  
Saved to Aegisthus; but himself alone:  
All strewed together there, the bloody Court.  
This said: my soul he sunk with his report:  
Flat on the sands I fell: tears spent their store;  
I, light abhorred: my heart would live no more.  
When dry of tears; and tired with tumbling there;  
Th'old Tel-truth thus my daunted spirits did cheer:  
No more spend tears nor time, o Atreus son;  
With ceaseless weeping, never wish was won.  
Use uttermost assay to reach thy home,  
And all unwares upon the murderer come,  
(For torture) taking him thyself, alive;  
Orw let Orestes, that should far out-strive  
Thee in fit vengeance, quickly quit the light  
Of such a dark soul: and do thou the right  
Of burial to him, with a Funeral feast.  
With these last words, I fortified my breast;  
In which again, a generous spring began,  
Of fitting comfort, as I was a man;  
But, as a brother, I must ever mourn.  
Yet forth I went; and told him the return  
Of these I knew: but he had named a third,  
Held on the broad sea; still with life inspired;  
Whom I besought to know, though likewise dead,  
And I must mourn alike. He answered:  
He is Laertes son; whom I beheld  
In Nymph Calypsos Palace; who compelled  
His stay with her: and since he could not see  
His country earth, he mourned incessantly.  
For he had neither ship, instruct with oars,  
Nor men to fetch him from those stranger shores.  
Where, leave we him; and to thyself descend;  
Whom, not in Argos, Fate nor Death shall end;  
But the immortal ends of all the earth,  
So ruled by them, that order death by birth,  
(The fields Elysian) Fate to thee will give: 
Elysium described.   
Where Rhadamanthus rules; and where men live  
A never-troubled life: where snow, nor showers,  
Nor irksome Winter spends his fruitless powers;  
But from the Ocean, Zephyre still resumes  
A constant breath, that all the fields perfumes.  
Which, since thou marriedst Helen, are thy hire;  
And jove himself, is by her side thy Sire.  
This said; he dived the d●epsome watery heaps; 
Proteus leaveth M●nelau●.   
I, and my tried men, took us to our ships;  
And worlds of thoughts, I varied with my steps.  
Arrived and shipped, the silent solemn Night,  
And Sleep bereft us of our visual light.  
At morn, masts, sails reared, we sat; left the shores,  
And beat the foamy Ocean with our oars.  
Again than we, the jove-falne flood did fetch,  
As far as Egypt: where we did beseech  
The Gods with Hecatombs; whose angers ceased;  
I toombed my brother, that I might be blest.  
All rites performed; all haste I made for home;  
And all the prosperous winds about were come;  
I had the Passport now of every God,  
And here closed all these labours period.  
Here stay then, till th'eleventh or twelfth days light;  
And I'll dismiss thee well; gifts exquisite  
Preparing for thee: Chariot, horses three;  
A Cup of curious frame to serve for thee,  
To serve th'immortal Gods with sacrifice;  
Mindful of me, while all suns light thy skies.  
He answered: 
Telemach●st● Menela●s.  Stay me not too long time here;  
Though I could sit, attending all the year:  
Nor should my house, nor parents, with desire,  
Take my affections from you; so on fire  
With love to hear you, are my thoughts: but so;  
My Pylian friends, I shall afflict with woe,  
Who mourn even this stay. Whatsoever be  
The gifts your Grace is to bestow on me;  
Vouchsafe them such, as I may bear and save,  
For your sake ever. Horse, I list not have,  
To keep in Ithaca: but leave them here,  
To your soils dainties; where the broad fields bear  
Sweet Cypers grass; where men-fed Lote doth flow;  
Where wheate-like Spelt; and wheat itself doth grow;  
Where Barley, 
Ithaca described by Telemachus.  white, and spreading like a tree:  
But Ithaca, hath neither ground to be  
(For any length it comprehends) a race  
To try a horse's speed: nor any place  
To make him fat in: fitter far to feed  
A Cliffe-bred Goat, then raise▪ or please a Steed.  
Of all Isles, Ithaca doth least provide,  
Or meads to feed a horse, or ways ●o ride.  
He, smiling said: Of good blood art thou (son):  
What speech, so●yong? what observation  
Hast thou made of the world? I well am pleased  
To change my gifts to thee; as being confessed  
Unfit indeed: my store is such, I may.  
Of all my house-gifts then, that up I lay  
For treasure there, I will bestow on thee  
The fairest, and of greatest price to me.  
I will bestow on thee a rich carved Cup  
Of silver all: but all the brims wrought up  
With finest gold: it was the only thing  
That the Heroical Sydonian King  
Presented to me, when we were to part  
At his receipt of me; and 'twas the Art  
Of that great Artist, that of heaven is free;  
And yet even this, will I bestow on thee.  
This speech thus ended; guests came, and did bring  
Muttons (for Presents) to the Godlike King:  
And spirit-prompting wine, that strenuous makes.  
Their Riband-wreathed wives, brought fruit and cakes.  
Thus, in this house, did these their Feast apply:  
And in Ulysses' house, 
The wooers conspiracy against Telemachus.  Activity  
The wooers practised: Tossing of the Spear;  
The Stone, and hurling: thus delighted, where  
They exercised such insolence before:  
Even in the Court, that wealthy 〈◊〉 wo●e.  
Antinous did still their strifes decide;  
And he that was in person deicide  
Eury●ach●●; both ring leaders of all;  
For in their virtues they were principal.  
These, by Noem●n (son to 〈◊〉)  
Were sided now; who made the question thus:  
Antinous! does any friend here know,  
When this Telemachus returns? or no,  
From sandy Pylos? He made bold to take  
My ship with him: of which, I now should make  
Fit use myself; and sail in her as fa●e  
As spacious Elis; where, of mine, there are  
Twelve delicate Mares; and under their sides, go  
Laborious Mules, that yet did never know  
The yoke, nor labour: some of which should bear  
The taming now, if I could fetch them there.  
This speech, the rest admired; nor dreamt that he  
Neleian piles, ever thought to see;  
But was at field about his flocks survey:  
Or thought, his herdsmen ●eld him so away.  
Enpitheus son, Antino●s, than replied:  
When went he? or with what Train dignified  
Of his selected Ithacensi●● youth?  
priest men, or Bond men were they? Tell the truth.  
Could he effect this? let me truly know:  
To gain thy vessel, did he violence show,  
And used her 'gainst thy will? or had her free,  
When fitting question, he had made with thee?  
Noemon answered: I did freely give  
My vessel to him; who deserves to live,  
That would do other? when such men as he,  
Did in distress ask? he should churlish be,  
That would deny him: Of our youth, the best  
Amongst the people; to the interest  
His charge did challenge in them; giving way,  
With all the tribute, all their powers could pay.  
Their Captain (as he took the ship) I knew;  
Who Mentor was, or God. A deities show,  
Masked in his likeness. But to think 'twas he,  
I much admire; for I did clearly see,  
But yester morning, God like Mentor here;  
Yet, th'other evening, he took shipping there,  
And went for Pylos. Thus went he for home,  
And left the rest, with envy overcome:  
Who sat; and pastime left. Enpitheus son  
(Sad, and with rage, his entrails overrun)  
His eyes like flames; thus interposed his speech.  
Strange thing; an action of how proud a reach, 
Antinous' anger for the escape of Telemachus.   
Is here committed by Telemachus?  
A boy, a child; and we, a sort of us,  
Vowed 'gainst his voyage; yet admit it thus,  
With ship, and choice youth of our people too?  
But let him on; and all his mischief do;  
jove shall convert upon himself his powers,  
Before their ill presumed, he brings on ours.  
Provide me then a ship, and twenty men  
To give her manage; that against again  
He turns for home; on th' Ithacensian seas,  
Or Cliffy Samian; I may interprease;  
Waylay, and take him; and make all his craft,  
Sail with his ruin, for his Father saved.  
This, all applauded; and gave charge to do;  
Rose, and to greet Ulysses' house, did go.  
But long time passed not, ere Penelope  
Had notice of their far-fetched treachery.  
Medon the Herald told her; who had heard  
Without the Hall, how they within conferred:  
And hasted straight, to tell it to the Queen:  
Who from the entry, having Medon seen  
Prevents him thus: Now Herald; what affair  
Intent the famous wooers, 
Penelope to Medon.  in your repair?  
To tell Ulysses' maids, that they must cease  
From doing our work, and their banquets dress?  
I would to heaven, that (leaving wooing me,  
Nor ever troubling other company)  
Here might the last Feast be, and most extreme,  
That ever any shall address for them.  
They never meet, but to consent in spoil,  
And reap the free fruits of another's toil.  
O did they never, when they children were,  
What to their Fathers, was Ulysses, hear?  
Who never did 'gainst any one proceed,  
With unjust usage, or in word or deed?  
'tis yet with other Kings, another right,  
One to pursue with love, another spite;  
He still yet just; nor would, though might devour;  
Nor to the worst, did ever taste of power.  
But their unruld acts, show their mind's estate:  
Good turns received once, thanks grow our of date.  
Medon, the learned in wisdom, answered her: 
M●don to Penelo●e relates ●he voyage of 〈◊〉.   
I wish (O Queen) that their ingratitudes were  
Their worst ill towards you: but worse by far,  
And much more deadly their endeavours are;  
Which love will fail them in. 〈◊〉  
Their purpose is (as he returns to us)  
To give their sharp steels in a cruel death:  
Who now is gone to learn, if Fame can breath  
News of his Sire; and will the pylian shore,  
And sacred Sparta, in his search explore.  
This news dissolved to her both knees and heart,  
Long silence held her, ere one word would part:  
Her eyes stood full of tears; her small soft voice,  
All late use lost; that yet at last had choice  
Of wont words; which briefly thus she used:  
Why left my son his mother? why refused  
His wit the solid shore, to try the seas,  
And put in ships the trust of his distress?  
That are at sea to men unbridld horse,  
And tun, past rule, their farre-engaged course,  
Amidst a moisture, past all mean unstaid?  
No need compelled this: did he it, afraid  
To live and leave posterity his name?  
I know not (he replied) if th'humor came  
From current of his own instinct, or flowed  
From others instigations; but he vowed  
Attempt to Pylos; or to see descried  
His Sires return, or know what death he died.  
This said; he took him to Vlysse● house  
After the wooers; the Vlyssean Spouse  
(Run through with woes) let Tort●●e seize her mind,  
Nor, in her choice of state-chaires, stood inclined  
To take her seat; but th'abject threshold chose  
Of her fair chamber, for her loathed repose;  
And mourned most wretch-like. Round about her fell  
Her handmaids, joined in a continuate yell.  
From every corner of the Palace, all  
Of all degrees, tuned to her comforts fall  
Their own dejections: to whom, her complaint  
She thus enforced: The Gods beyond constraint  
Of any measure, urge these tears on me;  
Nor was there ever Dame of my degree,  
So past degree grieved. First, a Lord, so good,  
That had such hardy spirits in his blood.  
That all the virtues was adorned withal;  
That all the Greeks did their Superior call,  
To part with thus, and lose. And now a son  
So worthily beloved, a course to run  
Beyond my knowledge; whom rude tempests have  
Made far from home, 
Penelope re●uk●th ●er Ladies for not telling her of Telemachus.  his most inglorious grave.  
Unhappy wenches, that no one of all,  
(Though in the reach of every one, must fall  
His taking ship) sustained the careful mind,  
To call me from my bed; who, this designed,  
And most vowed course in him, had either stayed,  
(How much soever hasted) or dead laid  
He should have left me. Many a man I have,  
That would have called old Dolius my slave,  
(That keeps my Orchard, whom my Father gave  
At my departure) to have run, and told  
Laertes this; to try if he could hold  
From running through the people; and from tears,  
In telling them of these vowed murderers;  
That both divine Ulysses' hope, and his,  
Resolve to end in their conspiracies.  
His Nurse then, Euryclaea made reply:  
Dear Sovereign, 
E●ryel●as pio●● comfort of Pe●elope.  let me with your own hands die;  
Or cast me off here; I'll not keep from thee▪  
One word of what I know: He trusted me  
With all his purpose; and I gave him all  
The bread and wine, for which he pleased to call.  
But then a mighty oath he made me swear,  
Not to report it to your ●oyall ear,  
Before the twelfth day either should appear,  
Or you should ask me, when you heard him gone.  
Impair not then your beauties with your moan,  
But wash, and put unteare-staind garments on:  
Ascend your chamber, with your Ladies here;  
And pray the seed of Goat-nurst jupiter,  
(Divine Athenia) to preserve your son;  
And she will save him from confusion.  
Th'old King, to whom your hopes stand so inclined,  
For his grave counsels, you perhaps may find  
Unfit affected, for his age's sake.  
But heaven-kings wax not old; and therefore make  
Fit prayers to them; for my thoughts never will  
Believe the heavenly powers conceit so ill,  
The seed of righteous Arcesiades,  
To end it utterly; 
Laertes son to Arcesius the son of jupiter.  but still will please  
In some place evermore, some one of them  
To save; and deck him with a Diadem:  
Give him possession of erected Towers,  
And farre-stretcht fields, crowned all of fruits and flowers.  
This eased her heart, and dried her humorous ●ies,  
When having washed, and weeds of sacrifice  
(Pure, and unstained with her distrustful tears)  
Put on; (with all her women-ministers)  
Up to a chamber of most height, she rose;  
And cakes of salt and barley did impose  
Within a wicker basket; all which broke  
In decent order; thus she did invoke: 
Penelope to Pall●s.   
Great Virgin of the Goat-preserued God;  
If ever the inhabited abode  
Of wise Ulysses, held the ●atted Thi●s  
Of sheep and Oxen, made thy sacrifice  
By his devotion; hear me; nor 〈◊〉  
His pious services; but ●a●e ●ee ●e●  
His dear son, on these shores; and 〈…〉  
These wooers, past all mean in insolence.  
This said, she shrieked; and 〈…〉 her 〈◊〉.  
The wooers broke with tumult all 〈…〉  
About the shady house; and one of them,  
Whose pride, his youth had made the more 〈◊〉,  
Said; Now the many-wooer- 〈◊〉 Queen,  
Will surely fatiate her 〈◊〉 〈…〉  
And one of us, in instant 〈◊〉.  
Poor Dame, she dreams not, what design we make,  
Upon the life and slaughter of her son.  
So said he; but so said, was not so done;  
Whose arrogant spirit, 
Antinous to the rest.  in a 〈◊〉 so vain,  
Antinous chid; and said; For shame 〈◊〉  
These braving speeches; who 〈…〉  
Are we not now in reach of 〈◊〉  
If our intentions please us, let us call  
Our spirits up to them, and let 〈…〉.  
By watchful Danger, men must 〈…〉:  
What we resolve on, let's not say, but do.  
This said; he choosed out twenty men, that bore  
Best reckoning with him; and to ship and shore,  
All ●asted; reached the ship, lanchit, raised the ma●t;  
Put sails in; and with leather loops made ●a●t  
The oars; Sails hoist; Arms their men did bring;  
All giving speed, and form to every thing.  
Then to the high-deepes, their rigged vessel dri●en,  
They supped; expecting the approaching E●en.  
Mean space, Penelope her chamber kept,  
And bed, and neither eat, nor drank, nor slept;  
Her strong thoughts wrought so on her blameless son;  
Still in contention, if he should be done  
To death; or scape the impious wooers design.  
Look how a Lion, whom then scroopes combine  
To hunt, and close him in a crafty 〈◊〉;  
Much varied thought conceives; and fear doth sting  
For urgent danger: So fared she 〈◊〉 sleep,  
All juncture of her joints, and nerves did s●eepe  
In his dissolving humour. When (at rest)  
Pallas her favours varied; and addressed  
An Idol, that Iphthima did present  
In 
* 〈◊〉 membrorum structure.  structure of her every lineament;  
Great-sould Icarius daughter: whom, for Spouse  
Eum●lus took, that kept in Pheris house.  
This, to divine Ulysses' house she sent,  
To try her best mean, how she might content  
Mournful Penelope; and make Relent  
The strict addiction in her to deplore.  
This Idol (like a 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, affectus curculionis significat quod jongior & gracilior cualerit.  worm, that less or more,  
Contracts or strains her) did itself convey,  
Beyond the wards, or windings of the key,  
Into the chamber; and above her head,  
Her seat assuming, thus she comforted  
Distressed Penelope. Doth sleep thus seize  
Thy powers, 
Minerva sub Iphthimae persona, solatur Penelopen in somnis.  affected with so much disease?  
The Gods, that nothing troubles, will not see  
Thy tears nor griefs, in any least degree,  
Sustained with cause; for they will guard thy son,  
Safe to his wished, and native mansion;  
Since he is no offender of their States;  
And they to such, are firmer than their Fates. 
Penelope to the Dream.   
The wise Penelope received her thus;  
(Bound with a slumber most delicious,  
And in the Port of dreams) O sister, why  
Repair you hither? since so far off lie  
Your house and household? You were never here  
Before this hour; and would you now give cheer  
To my so many woes and miseries?  
Affecting fitly all the faculties  
My soul and mind hold: having lost before  
A husband, that of all the virtues bore  
The Palm amongst the Greeks; and whose renown  
So ample was, that Fame the sound hath blown  
Through Greece and Argos, to her very heart.  
And now again; a son that did convert  
My whole powers to his love, by ship is gone.  
A tender Plant, that yet was never grown  
To labours taste, nor the commerce of men;  
For whom, more than my husband I complain▪  
And lest he should at any sufferance touch  
(Or in the sea, or by the men so much  
Estranged to him, that must his consorts be)  
Fear and i'll tremble, shake each joint of me.  
Besides: his danger sets on, foes professed  
To waylay his return; that have addressed  
Plots for his death. The scarce-discerned Dream,  
Said: Be of comfort; nor fears so extreme,  
Let thus dismay thee; thou hast such a mate  
Attending thee, as some at any rate  
Would wish to purchase; for her power is great;  
Mineru● pities thy delights defeat:  
Whose Grace hath sent me to foretell thee these.  
If thou (said she) be of the Goddesses, 
Penelope to the Idol.   
And heardst her tell thee these; thou mayst as well  
From her, tell all things else; deign then to tell,  
If yet the man, to all misfortunes borne,  
(My husband) lives; and sees the Sun adorn  
The darksome earth; or hides his wretched head  
In Pluto's house, and lives amongst the dead?  
I will not (she replied) my breath exhale,  
In one continued, and perpetual tale;  
lives he, or dies he. 'tis a filthy use,  
To be in vain and idle speech profuse.  
This said; she through the keyhole of the door  
Vanished again into the open blore.  
Icarius daughter started from her sleep,  
And joys fresh humour, her loved breast did s●eepe:  
When now so clear, in that first watch of night,  
She saw the seen dream vanish from her sight.  
The wooers (shipped) the seas moist waves did ply;  
And thought the Prince, a haughty death should die.  
There lies a certain Island in the sea,  
Twixt rocky Samos and rough Ithaca,  
That cliffy is itself, and nothing great;  
Yet holds convenient havens, that two ways let  
Ships in and out; called Asteris: and there  
The wooers hoped to make their massakere.  
Finis libri quarti Hom. Odyss.   

THE FIFTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
A Second Court, on jove attends;  
Who, Hermes to Calypso sends;  
Commanding her to clear the ways  
Ulysses sought; and she obeys.  
When Neptune saw Vlysles free,  
And, so in safety, plow the sea;  
Enraged, he ruffles up the waves,  
And splits his ship. Leucothea saves  
His person yet; as being a Dame,  
Whose Godhead governed in the frame  
Of those seas tempers. But the mean  
By which she curbs dread Neptune's spleen.  
Is made a jewel; which she takes  
From off her head; and that she makes  
Ulysses on his bosom wear,  
About his neck, she ties it there:  
And when he is with waves beset,  
Bids wear it as an Amulet;  
Commanding him, that not before  
He touched upon Phaeacias' shore,  
He should not part with it; but then  
Return it to the sea again,  
And ca●t it from him. He performs;  
Yet after this, bides bitter storms;  
And in the rocks, sees Death engraved;  
But on Phaeacias' shore is saved.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

Ulysses builds  
A ship; and gains  
The Gassie fields;  
Pays Neptune pains.    
AVrora rose from high-born Tithonus' Bed,  
That men and Gods might be illustrated:  
And then the Deities sat. Imperial jove,  
That makes the horrid murmur beat above,  
took place past all; whose height for ever springs;  
And from whom flows th'eternal power of things.  
Then Pallas (mindful of Ulysses) told  
The many Cares, that in Calypsos hold,  
He still sustained; when he had felt before,  
So much affliction, and such dangers more.  
O Father, 
Pallas to the Gods.  (said she) and ye ever blest;  
Give never King hereafter, interest  
In any aid of yours, by serving you;  
By being gentle, human, just; but grow  
Rude, and for ever scornful of your rights;  
All justice ordering by their appetites.  
Since he that ruled, as it in right behooved,  
That all his subjects, as his children loved,  
Finds you so thoughtless of him, and his birth.  
Thus men begin to say, ye rule in earth;  
And grudge at what ye let him undergo;  
Who yet the least part of his sufferance know:  
Thralled in an Island; shipwrecked in his tears;  
And in the fancies that Calypso bears,  
Bound from his birthright; all his shipping gone;  
And of his soldiers, not retaining one.  
And now his most-loved sons life doth inflame  
Their slaughterous envies; since his Father's fame  
He puts in pursuit; and is gone as far  
As sacred Pylos; and the singular  
Dame breeding Sparta. This, with this reply,  
The Cloud-assembler answered: 
jove to Pallas.  What words fly  
Thine own remembrance (daughter?) hast not thou  
The counsel given thyself, that told thee how  
Ulysses shall with his return address  
His wooers wrongs? And, for the safe access,  
His Son shall make to his innative Port,  
Do thou direct it, in as curious sort,  
As thy wit serves thee: it obeys thy powers;  
And in their ship return the speedless wowers.  
Then turned he to his issue Mercury,  
And said: 
jove to Mercury  Thou hast made good our Embassy  
To th'other Statists; To the Nymph then now,  
On whose fair head a t●ft of gold doth grow;  
Bear our true-spoken counsel; for retreat  
Of patient Ulysses; who shall get  
No aid from us, nor any mortal man;  
But in a 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. in rate multis vinculis ligatus.  patcht-up skiff, (built as he can,  
And suffering woes enough) the twentieth day  
At fruitful Scheria, let him breath his way,  
With the Phaeacians, that half Deities live;  
Who like a God will honour him; and give  
His wisdom clothes, and ship, and brass, and gold,  
More than for gain of Troy he ever told;  
Where, at the whole division of the prey,  
If he a saver were, or got away  
Without a wound (if he should grudge) 'twas well;  
But th'end shall crown all; therefore Fate will deal  
So well with him; to let him land, and see  
His native earth, friends, house and family.  
Thus charged he; nor Argicides denied;  
But to his feet, 
Mercurij descriptio.  his fair winged shoes he tied;  
Ambrosian, golden; that in his command,  
Put either sea, or the unmeasured land,  
With pace as speedy as a puffed of wind.  
Then up his Rod went; with which he declined  
The eyes of any waker, when he pleased,  
And any sleeper, when he wished, diseased.  
This took; he stooped Pierea; and thence  
Glid through the air; and Neptune's Confluence  
Kissed as he flew; and checked the waves as light  
As any Sea-mew, in her fishing flight,  
Her thick wings sousing in the savoury seas.  
Like her, he passed a world of wilderness;  
But when the far-off I'll, he touched; he went  
Up from the blue sea, to the Continent,  
And reached the ample Caverne of the Queen;  
Whom he within found; without, seldom seen.  
A Sunlike fire upon the hearth did flame; 
Descriptio sp●t cousin Calypsus.   
The matter precious, and divine the frame;  
Of Cedar cleft, and Incense was the Pile,  
That breathed an odour round about the I'll.  
Herself was seated in an inner room,  
Whom sweetly sing he heard; and at her loom,  
About a curious web; whose yarn she threw  
In, with a golden shuttle. A Grove grew  
In endless spring about her Caverne round;  
With odorous Cypress, Pines, and Poplars crowned,  
Where Haulks, Sea-owles, and long-tongued Bitterns bred;  
And other birds their shady pinions spread.  
All Fowls maritimal; none roosted there,  
But those whose labours in the waters were.  
A Vine did all the hollow Cave embrace;  
Still green, yet still ripe bunches gave it grace.  
Four Fountains, one against another powered  
Their silver streams; and meadows all enflowrd  
With sweet Balme-gentle, and blue Violets hid,  
That decked the soft breasts of each fragrant Mead.  
Should any one (though he immortal were)  
Arrive and see the sacred objects there;  
He would admire them, and be overjoyed;  
And so stood Hermes ravished powers employed.  
But having all admired, he entered on  
The ample Cave; not could be seen unknown  
Of great Calypso, (for all Deities are  
Prompt in each others knowledge; though so far  
Severed in dwellings) but he could not see  
Ulysses there within. Without was he  
Set sad ashore; where 'twas his use to view  
Th'unquiet sea; sighed, wept, and empty drew  
His heart of comfort. Placed here in her throne  
(That beams cast up, to Admiration)  
Divine Calypso, questioned Hermes thus:  
For what cause (dear, 
Calypso to Mer●curie.  and much-esteemed by us,  
Thou golden-rod-adorned Mercury)  
Arriu'st thou here? thou hast not used t'apply  
Thy passage this way. Say, what ever be  
Thy hearts desire, my mind commands it thee,  
If in my means it lie, or power of fact.  
But first, what hospitable rights exact,  
Come yet more near, and take. This said, she set  
A Table forth, and furnished it with meat,  
Such as the God's taste; and served in with it,  
Vermilion Nectar. When with banquet, fit  
He had confirmed his spirits; he thus expressed  
His cause of coming: 
Mercury to Calypso.  Thou hast made request  
(Goddess of Goddesses) to understand  
My cause of touch here: which thou shalt command,  
And know with truth: jove caused my course to thee,  
Against my will; for who would willingly  
Lackey along so vast a lake of Brine?  
Near to no City; that the powers divine  
Receives with solemn rites and Hecatombs?  
But Ioues will ever, all law overcomes;  
No other God can cross or make it void.  
And he affirms, that one, the most annoyed  
With woes and toils, of all those men that fought  
For Priam's City; and to end hath brought  
Nine years in the contention; is with thee.  
For in the tenth year, when roy Victory  
Was won, to give the Greeks the spoil of Troy;  
Return they did profess, but not enjoy,  
Since Pallas they incensed; and she, the waves  
By all the winds power, that blew open their graves.  
And there they rested. Only this poor one,  
This Coast, both winds and waves have cast upon:  
Whom now forthwith he wills thee to dismiss;  
Affirming that th'unaltered destinies,  
Not only have decreed, he shall not die  
Apart his friends; but of Necessity  
Enjoy their sights before those fatal hours,  
His country earth reach, and erected Towers.  
This struck, a love-checkt horror through her powers;  
When (naming him) she this reply did give:  
Insatiate are ye Gods, 
Calypsos displeased reply to Mercury.  past all that live,  
In all things you affect; which still converts  
Your powers to envies. It afflicts your hearts,  
That any Goddess should (as you obtain  
The use of earthly Dames) enjoy the men:  
And most in open marriage. So ye fared,  
When the delicious-fingerd Morning shared  
Orion's bed: you easie-living States,  
Could never satisfy your emulous hates;  
Till in Ortygia, the precise-liued Dame  
(Gold-throned Diana) on him rudely came,  
And with her swift shafts slew him. And such pains,  
(When rich-haird Ceres pleased to give the rains  
To her affections; and the grace did yield  
Of love and bed amidst a three-cropt field,  
To her jasion) he paid angry jove;  
Who lost, no long time, notice of their love;  
But with a glowing lightning, was his death.  
And now your envies labour underneath  
A mortals choice of mine; whose life, I took  
To liberal safety; when his ship, jove struck  
With red-hot flashes, piece-meal in the seas,  
And all his friends and soldiers, succourless  
Perished but he. Him, cast upon this coast  
With blasts and billows; I (in life given lost)  
Preserved alone; loved, nourished, and did vow  
To make him deathless; and yet never grow  
Crooked, or worn with age, his whole life long.  
But since no reason may be made so strong,  
To strive with Ioues will, or to make it vain;  
No not if all the other Gods should strain  
Their powers against it; let his will be law;  
So he afford him fit means to withdraw,  
(As he commands him) to the raging Main:  
But means from me, he never shall obtain,  
For my means yield, nor men, nor ship, nor oars,  
To set him off, from my so envied shores.  
But if my counsel and goodwill can aid  
His safe pass home, my best shall be assayed.  
Vouchsafe it so, (said heavens Ambassador)  
And deign it quickly. By all means abhor  
T'incense Ioues wrath against thee; that with grace  
He may hereafter, all thy wish embrace.  
Thus took the Argus-killing God, 
Mercury leaves Calypso.  his wings.  
And since the reverend Nymph, these awful things  
Received from jove; she to Ulysses went:  
Whom she ashore found, drowned in discontent;  
His eyes kept never dry, he did so mourn,  
And waste his dear age, for his wished return.  
Which still without the Cave he used to do,  
Because he could not please the Goddess so.  
At night yet (forced) together took their rest,  
The willing Goddess, and th'unwilling Guest.  
But he, all day in rocks, and on the shore  
The vexed sea viewed; and did his Fate deplore.  
Him, now, the Goddess (coming near) bespoke:  
Unhappy man; 
Calypso to Ulysses  no more discomfort take,  
For my constraint of thee; nor waste thine age;  
I now will passing freely disengage  
Thy irksome stay here. Come then, fell thee wood,  
And build a ship, to save thee from the flood.  
I'll furnish thee with fresh wave; bread and wine,  
ruddy and sweet, that will the 
* Hunger.  Piner pine;  
Put garments on thee; give thee winds foreright;  
That every way thy home-bent appetite  
May safe attain to it; if so it please  
At all parts, all the heaven-housd Deities!  
That more in power are, more in skill than I;  
And more can judge, what fits humanity.  
He stood amazed, 
Ulysses' to Calypso  at this strange change in her;  
And said: O Goddess! thy intents prefer  
Some other project, than my parting hence;  
Commanding things of too high consequence  
For my performance. That myself should build  
A ship of power, my home assays to shield  
Against the great Sea, of such dread to pass;  
Which not the best-built ship that ever was,  
Will pass exulting; when such winds as jove  
Can thunder up, their trims and tackle prove.  
But could I build one, I would ne'er aboard,  
(Thy will opposed) nor (won) without thy word,  
Given in the great oath of the Gods to me,  
Not to beguile me in the least degree.  
The Goddess smiled; held hard his hand, and said:  
O y'are a shrewdw one; and so habited  
In taking heed; thou know'st not what it is  
To be unwary; nor use words amiss.  
How hast thou charmed me, were I ne'er so sly?  
Let earth know then; 
Calypsos oath.  and heaven, so broad, so high;  
And th'under-sunk waves of th'infernal stream;  
(Which is an oath, as terribly supreme,  
As any God swears) that I had no thought,  
But stood with what I spoke; nor would have wrought,  
Nor counselled any act, against thy good;  
But ever diligently weighed, and stood  
On those points in persuading thee; that I  
Would use myself in such extremity.  
For my mind simple is, and innocent;  
Not given by cruel sleights to cirumvent;  
Nor bear I in my breast a heart of steel,  
But with the Sufferer, willing sufferance feel.  
This said; the Grace of Goddesses led home;  
He tracked her steps; and (to the Caverne come)  
In that rich Throne, whence Mercury arose,  
He sat. The Nymph herself did then appose  
For food and beuridge to him; all best meat  
And drink, that mortals use to taste and eat.  
Then sat she opposite; and for her Feast,  
Was Nectar and Ambrosia addressed  
By handmaids to her. Both, what was prepared,  
Did freely fall to. Having fitly fared,  
The Nymph Calypso this discourse began:  
jove-bred Ulysses! many-witted man!  
Still is thy home so wished? so soon, away?  
Be still of cheer, for all the worst I say;  
But if thy soul knew what a sum of woes  
For thee to cast up, thy stern Fates impose,  
Ere to thy country earth thy hopes attain;  
Undoubtedly thy choice would here remain;  
Keep house with me, 
Calypsos promise of immortality to Ulysses.  and be a liver ever.  
Which (me thinks) should thy house and thee dissever;  
Though for thy wife there, thou art set on fire;  
And all thy days are spent in her desire;  
And though it be no boast in me to say,  
In form and mind, I match her every way.  
Nor can it fit a mortal Dames compare,  
T'affect those terms with us, that deathless are.  
The great in counsels, made her this reply:  
Renowned, and to be reverenced Deity!  
Let it not move thee, that so much I vow  
My comforts to my wife; though well I know  
All cause myself, why wise Penelope  
In wit is far inferior to thee;  
In feature, stature, all the parts of show;  
She being a mortal; an Immortal thou;  
Old ever growing, and yet never old.  
Yet her desire, shall all my days see told;  
Adding the sight of my returning day,  
And natural home. If any God shall lay  
His hand upon me, as I pass the seas;  
I'll bear the worst of what his hand shall please;  
As having given me such a mind, as shall  
The more still rise, the more his hand le's fall.  
In wars and waves, my sufferings were not small.  
I now have suffered much; as much before;  
Hereafter let as much result, and more.  
This said; the Sun set; and earth shadows gave;  
When these two (in an in-roome of the Cave,  
Left to themselves) left Love no rites undone.  
The early Morn up; up he rose; put on  
His in and our-weed. She, herself inchaces  
Amidst a white rob, full of all the Graces;  
Ample, and plea●ed, thick, like fishie scales.  
A golden girdle then, her waste empales;  
Her head, a veil decks; and abroad they come;  
And now began Ulysses to go home.  
A great Axe, first she gave, that two ways cut;  
In which a fair wel-polisht helm was put,  
That from an Olive bough received his frame:  
A plainer then. Then led she till they came  
To lofty woods, that did the I'll confine.  
The Fi●●e tree, Poplar, and heaven-scaling Pine,  
Had there their offspring. Of which, those that were  
Of driest matter, and grew longest there,  
He choosed for lighter sail. This place, thus shown,  
The Nymph turned home. He fell to felling down;  
And twenty trees he stooped, in little space;  
Plained, used his Plumb; did all with artful grace.  
In mean time did Calypso wimbles bring.  
He bored, closed, nailed, and ordered every thing;  
And took how much a shipwright will allow  
A ship of burden; (one that best doth know  
What fits his Art) so large a Keel he cast.  
Wrought up her decks, and hatches, side-boords, mast;  
With willow watlings armed her, to resist  
The billows outrage; added all she missed;  
Sail-yards, and stern for guide. The Nymph then brought  
Linen for sails; which, with dispatch, he wrought.  
Gables, and halsters, tackle. All the Frame  
In four days space, 
This four days work (you will say) is too much for one man: and Pliny affirms, that Hiero (a king of Sicily) in five and forty days built two hundred and twenty ships, r●gged them, and p●t to sea with them.  to full perfection came.  
The fifth day, they dismissed him from the shore;  
Weeds, neat, and odorous gave him; victles store;  
Wine, and strong waters, and a prosperous wind.  
To which, Ulysses (fit to be divined)  
His sails exposed, and hoist. Off he got;  
And cheerful was he. At the Stern he sat,  
And stered right artfully. No sleep could seize  
His eyelids: he beh●ld the Pleiades;  
The Bear, surnamed the Wain, that round doth move  
About Orion; and keeps still above  
The billowie Oc●an. The slow-setting star,  
Boots called, by some, the Waggonar.  
Calypso warned him, he his course should steer  
Still to his left hand. Seventeen days did clear  
The cloudy Night's command, in his moist way;  
And by the eighteenth light, he might display  
The shady hills of the Phaeacian shore;  
For which, as to his next abode, he bore.  
The country did a pretty figure yield,  
And looked from off the dark seas, like a shield.  
Imperious Neptune (making his retreat  
From th' Aethiopian earth; and taking seat  
Upon the mountains of the Solymi;  
From thence, far off discovering) did descry  
Ulysses, his fields ploughing. All on fire  
The sight straight set his heart; and made desire  
Of wreak run over, it did boil so high.  
When (his head nodding) O impiety  
(He cried out) now, the God's inconstancy  
Is most apparent; altering their designs  
Since I the Aethiops saw: and here confines  
To this Ulysses fate, his misery.  
The great mark, on which all his hopes rely,  
Lies in Phaeacia. But I hope he shall  
Feel woe at height, ere that dead calm befall.  
This said; 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Mendicando colligo.  he (begging) gathered clouds from land;  
Frighted the seas up; snatched into his hand,  
His horrid Trident; and aloft did toss  
(Of all the winds) all storms he could engross.  
All earth took into sea with clouds; grim Night  
Fell tumbling headlong from the cope of Light.  
The East and Southwinds iustld in the air;  
The violent Zephir, and North-making fair,  
Rolled up the waves before them: and then, bend  
Ulysses' knees; then all his spirit was spent.  
In which despair, he thus spoke: Woe is me!  
What was I borne to? man of misery?  
Fear tells me now, that all the Goddess said,  
Truth's self will author; that Fate would be paid  
Griefs whole sum due from me, at sea, before  
I reached the dear touch of my country's shore.  
With what clouds jove, heavens heightened forehead binds?  
How tyrannize the wraths of all the winds?  
How all the tops, he bottoms with the deeps?  
And in the bottoms, all the tops he steeps?  
Thus dreadful is the presence of our death.  
Thrice four times blest were they that sunk beneath  
Their Fates at Troy; and did to nought contend,  
But to renown Atrides with their end?  
I would to God, my hour of death, and Fate,  
That day had held the power to terminate;  
When showers of darts, my life bore undeprest,  
About divine Aeacides deceased.  
Then had I been allotted to have died,  
By all the Greeks, with funerals glorified;  
(Whence Death, encouraging good life, had grown)  
Where now I die, by●●o man mourned, nor known.  
This spoke; a huge wave took him by the head,  
And hurled him o're-boord: ship and all it laid  
Inverted quite amidst the waves; but he  
far off from her sprawld, strewed about the sea:  
His Stern still holding, broken off; his Mast  
Burst in the midst: so horrible a blast  
Of mixed winds struck it. Sails and saile-yards fell  
Amongst the billows; and himself did dwell  
A long time under water: nor could get  
In haste his head out: wave with wave so met  
In his depression; and his garments too,  
(Given by Calypso) gave him much to do,  
Hindering his swimming; yet he left not so  
His drenched vessel, for the overthrow  
Of her nor him; but got at length again  
(Wrestling with Neptune) hold of her; and then  
Sat in her Bulk, insulting over Death;  
Which (with the salt stream, priest to stop his breath)  
He scap't, and gave the sea again; to give  
To other men. His ship so strived to live,  
Floating at random, cufft from wave to wave;  
As you have seen the north-wind when he drove  
In Autumn, heaps of thorne-fed Grasshoppers▪  
Hither and thither; one heap this way bears,  
Another that; and makes them often meet  
In his confused gales; so Vlyss●s fleet,  
The winds hurled up and down: now Boreas  
Tossed it to Notus, Notus gave it pass  
To Eurus; Eurus, Zephir made it pursue  
The horrid Tennis. This sport called the view  
Of Cadmus' daughter, with the narrow heel;  
(Ino Leucothea) that first did feel  
A mortal Dames desires; and had a tongue.  
But now had th'honour to be named among  
The marine Godheads. She, with pity saw  
Ulysses justled thus, from flaw to flaw;  
And (like a Cormorand, in form and flight)  
Rose from a whirlpool: on the ship did light,  
And thus bespeak him: 
Leucothea to Ulysses.  Why is Neptune thus  
In thy pursuit extremely furious,  
Oppressing thee with such a world of ill,  
Even to thy death? He must not serve his will,  
Though 'tis his study. Let me then advise,  
As my thoughts serve; thou shalt not be unwise  
To leave thy weeds and ship, to the commands  
Of these rude winds; and work out with thy hands,  
Pass to Phaeacia; where thy austere Fate,  
Is to pursue thee with no more such hate.  
Take here this Tablet, with this ribbon strung,  
And see it still about thy bosom hung;  
By whose eternal virtue, never fear  
To suffer thus again, nor perish here.  
But when thou touchest with thy hand the shore,  
Then take it from thy neck, nor wear it more;  
But cast it far off from the Continent,  
And then thy person far ashore present.  
Thus gave she him the Tablet; and again  
(Turned to a Cormorand) dived past sight the Main.  
Patient Ulysses sighed at this; and stuck  
In the conceit of such fair-spoken Luck:  
And said; 
Ulysses still suspicious of fair fortunes.  Alas, I must suspect even this;  
Lest any other of the Deities  
Add sleight to Neptune's force; to counsel me  
To l●aue my vessel, and so far off see  
The shore I aim at. Not with thoughts too clear  
Will I obey her: but to me appear  
These counsels best; as long as I perceive  
My ship not quite dissolved, I will not leave  
The help she may afford me; but abide,  
And suffer all woes, till the worst be tried.  
When she is split, I'll swim: no miracle can  
Past near and clear means, move a knowing man.  
While this discourse employed him, Neptune raised  
A huge, a high, and horrid sea, that seized  
Him and his ship, 
Neptuni 〈◊〉 Vlystem inclementia.  and tossed them through the Lake;  
As when the violent winds together take  
Heaps of dry chaff, and hurl them every way;  
So his long woodstacke, Neptune struck astray.  
Then did Ulysses mount on rib, perforce,  
Like to a rider of a running horse,  
To stay himself a time, while he might shift  
His drenched weeds, that were Calypsos gift.  
When putting straight, Leucotheas' Amulet  
About his neck; he all his forces set  
To swim; and cast him prostrate to the seas.  
When powerful Neptune saw the ruthless press  
Of perils siege him thus; he moved his head,  
And this betwixt him and his heart, he said:  
So, now feel ills enough, and struggle so,  
Till to your Ioue-loued Islanders you row.  
But my mind says, you will not so avoid  
This last task too, but be with sufferance cloyed.  
This said; his rich-maned horse he moved; and reached  
His house at Aegas. But Minerva fetched  
The winds from sea; and all their ways but one  
Barred to their passage; the bleak North alone  
She set to blow; the rest, she charged to keep  
Their rages in; an bind themselves in sleep.  
But Boreas still flew high, to break the seas,  
Till jove-bred Ithacus, the more with ease,  
The navigation-skild Phaeacian States  
Might make his refuge; Death, and angry Fates,  
At length escaping. Two nights yet, and days,  
He spent in wrestling with the sable seas;  
In which space, often did his heart propose  
Death to his eyes. But when Aurora rose,  
And threw the third light from her orient hair;  
The winds grew calm, and clear was all the air;  
Not one breath stirring. Then he might descry  
(Raised by the high seas) clear, the land was nigh.  
And then, 
Simile.  look how to good sons that esteem  
Their father's life dear, (after pains extreme,  
Felt in some sickness, that hath held him long  
Down to his bed; and with affections strong,  
Wasted his body; made his life his load;  
As being inflicted by some angry God)  
When on their prayers, they see descend at length  
Health from the heavens, clad all in spirit and strength;  
The sight is precious: so, since here should end  
Ulysses' toils; which therein should extend  
Health to his country, (held to him, his Sire)  
And on which, long for him, Disease did tyre.  
And then beside, for his own sake to see  
The shores, the woods so near; such joy had he,  
As those good sons for their recovered Sire.  
Then laboured feet and all parts, to aspire  
To that wished Continent; which, when as near  
He came, as Clamour might inform an ear;  
He heard a sound beat from the sea-bred rocks,  
Against which gave a huge sea horrid shocks,  
That belched upon the firm land, weeds and foam;  
With which were all things hid there; where no room  
Of fit capacity was for any port;  
Nor (from the sea) for any man's resort;  
The shores, the rocks, and cliffs so prominent were.  
O (said Ulysses then) now jupiter  
Hath given me sight of an unhoped for shore,  
(Though I have wrought these seas so long, so sore)  
Of rest yet, no place shows the slenderest prints;  
The rugged shore so bristled is with flints:  
Against which, every way the waves so flock;  
And all the shore shows as one eminent rock.  
So near which, 'tis so deep, that not a sand  
Is there, for any tired foot to stand:  
Nor fly his death-fast following miseries,  
Lest if he land, upon him foreright flies  
A churlish wave, to crush him 'gainst a Cliff;  
Worse than vain rendering, all his landing strife.  
And should I swim to seek a haven elsewhere,  
Or land, less way-beate; I may justly fear  
I shall be taken with a gale again,  
And cast a huge way off into the Main.  
And there, the great Earth-shaker (having seen  
My so near landing; and again, his spleen  
Forcing me to him) will some Whale send out,  
(Of which a horrid number here about,  
His Amphitrite breeds) to swallow me.  
I well have proved, with what malignity  
He treads my steps. While this discourse he held;  
A cursed Surge, 'gainst a cutting rock impelled  
His naked body, which it gashed and tore;  
And had his bones broke, if but one sea more  
Had cast him on it. But 
* Palla●.  she prompted him,  
That never failed; and bade him no more swim  
Still off and on; but boldly force the shore,  
And hug the rock, that him so rudely tore.  
Which he, with both hands, sighed and clasped; till past  
The billows rage was; which scap't; back, so fast  
The rock repulsed it, that it reft his hold,  
Sucking him from it, and far back he rolled.  
And as the Polypus, that (forced from home  
Amidst the soft sea; and near rough land come  
For shelter 'gainst the storms that beat on her  
At open sea, as she abroad doth er●e)  
A deal of gravill, and sharp little stones,  
Needfully gathers in her hollow bones:  
So he forced hither, 
Per asperiora vitare laevia.  (by the sharper ill,  
Shunning the smother) where he best hoped, still  
The worst succeeded: for the cruel friend,  
To which he clinged for succour, off did rend  
From his broad hands, the soaken flesh so sore,  
That off he fell, and could sustain no more.  
Quite under water fell he; and, past Fate,  
Hapless Ulysses, there had lost the state  
He held in life; if (still the grey-eye Maid,  
His wisdom prompting) he had not assayed  
Another course; and ceased t'attempt that shore;  
Swimming, and casting round his eye, t'explore  
Some other shelter. Then, the mouth he found  
Of fair Calicoes flood; whose shores were crowned  
With most apt succours: Rocks so smooth, they seemed  
Polished of purpose: land that quite redeemed  
With breathless coverts, th'others blasted shores.  
The flood he knew; and thus in heart implores:  
King of this River! hear; what ever name  
Makes thee invokt: to thee I humbly frame  
My flight from Neptune's furies; Reverend is  
To all the everliving Deities,  
What erring man soever seeks their aid.  
To thy both flood and knees, a man dismayed  
With varied sufferance sues. Yield then some rest  
To him that is thy suppliant professed.  
This (though but spoke in thought) the Godhead heard;  
Her Current straight stayed; and her thick waves cleared  
Before him, smoothed her waters; and just where  
He prayed, half drowned; entirely saved him there.  
Then forth he came, his both knees faltering; both  
His strong hands hanging down; and all with froth  
His cheeks and nostrils flowing. Voice and breath  
Spent to all use; and down he sunk to Death.  
The sea had soaked his heart through: all his veins,  
His toils had racked, t'a labouring 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: á partu doleo.  woman's pains.  
Dead weary was he. But when breath did find  
A pass reciprocal; and in his mind,  
His spirit was recollected: up he rose,  
And from his neck did th'Amulet unlose,  
That Ino gave him; which he hurled from him  
To sea. It sounding fell; and back did swim  
With th'ebbing waters; till it straight arrived,  
Where Inos fair hand, it again received.  
Then kissed he th'humble earth; and on he goes,  
Till bulrushes showed place for his repose;  
Where laid, he sighed, and thus said to his soul:  
O me, what strange perplexities control  
The whole skill of thy powers, in this event?  
What feel I? if till Care-nurse Night be spent,  
I watch amidst the flood; the seas i'll breath,  
And vegetant dews, I fear will be my death:  
So low brought with my labours. Towards day,  
A passing sharp air ever breathes at sea.  
If I the pitch of this next mountain scale,  
And shady wood; and in some thicket fall  
Into the hands of Sleep: though there the cold  
May well be checked; and healthful slumbers hold  
Her sweet hand on my powers; all care allayed,  
Yet there will beasts devour me. Best apaid  
Doth that course make me yet; for there, some strife,  
Strength, and my spirit, may make me make for life.  
Which, though empaird, may yet be fresh applied,  
Where peril, possible of escape is tried.  
But he that fights with heaven, or with the sea,  
To Indiscretion, adds Impiety.  
Thus to the woods he hasted; which he found  
Not far from sea; but on farre-seeing ground;  
Where two twin underwoods, he entered on;  
With Olive trees, and oile-trees overgrown:  
Through which, the moist force of the loud-voiced wind,  
Did never beat; nor ever Phoebus shined;  
Nor shower beat through; they grew so one in one;  
And had, by turns, their power t'exclude the Sun.  
Here entered our Ulysseses; and a bed  
Of leaves huge, and of huge abundance spread  
With all his speed. Large he made it; for there,  
For two or three men, ample coverings were;  
Such as might shield them from the Winter's worst;  
Though 
* A met aphoricall Hyperbole, expressing the Winter's extremity of sharpness.  steel it breathed; and blue as it would burst.  
Patient Ulysses joyed, that ever day  
Showed such a shelter. In the midst he lay,  
Store of leaves heaping high on every side.  
And as in some out-field, a man doth hide  
A kindld brand, to keep the seed of fire; 
Simile.   
No neighbour dwelling near; and his desire  
Served with self store; he else would ask of none;  
But of his fore-spent sparks, rakes th'ashes on:  
So this out-place, Ulysses thus receives;  
And thus naked virtues seed, lies hid in leaves.  
Yet Pallas made him sleep, as soon as men  
Whom Delicacies, all their flatteries deign.  
And all that all his labours could comprise,  
Quickly concluded, in his closed eyes.  
Finis libri quinti Hom. Odyss.   

THE six BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Minerva in a vision stands  
Before Nausica●; and commands  
She to the flood her weeds should bear,  
For now her Nuptial day was near.  
Nausicaa her charge ●b●yes;  
And then with other virgin's plays.  
Their sports make ●ak't Ulysses rise;  
Walk to them, and beseech supplies  
Of food and clothes. His naked sight  
Puts th'other Maids, afraid to flight.  
Nausicaa only boldly stays,  
And gladly his desire obeys.  
He (furnis● with her favours shown)  
Attends her, and the re●t, to Town.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

Here Olive leaves  
T'hide shame, began.  
The Maid receives  
The naked man.    
THe much-sustaining, patient, heavenly Man,  
Whom Toil and 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Somno & labour afflictus. Sleep (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) for the want of sleep.  Sleep had worn so weak and wan;  
Thus won his rest. In mean space Pallas went  
To the Phaeacian city; and descent  
That first did broad Hyperias' lands divide,  
Near the vast Cyclops, men of monstrous pride.  
That prayed on those Hyperians, since they were  
Of greater power; and therefore longer there  
Divine Nausithous dwelled not; but arose,  
And did for Scheria, all his powers dispose:  
far from ingenious Art-inuenting men.  
But there did he erect a City then.  
First, drew a wall round; then he houses builds;  
And then a Temple to the Gods; the fields  
Lastly dividing. But he (stooped by Fate)  
Dived to th'infernals: and Alcinous sat  
In his command: a man, the Gods did teach,  
Commanding counsels. His house held the reach  
Of grey Miner●as project; to provide,  
That great-sould Ithacus might be supplied  
With all things fitting his return. She went  
Up to the chamber, where the fair 
* Nausicaa.  descent  
Of great Alcinous slept. A maid, whose parts  
In wit and beauty, wore divine deserts.  
Well decked her chamber was: of which, the door  
Did seem to lighten; such a gloss it bore  
Betwixt the posts: and now flew open, to find  
The Goddess entire. Like a puffed of wind  
She reached the Virgin bed. Near which, there lay  
Two maids; to whom, the Graces did convey,  
Figure, and manners. But above the head  
Of bright Nausicaa, did Pallas tread  
The subtle air; and put the person on  
Of Dymas daughter; from comparison  
Exempt in business Naval. Like his seed,  
Minerva looked now; 
* Intending Dymas daughter.  whom one year did breed,  
With bright Nausicaa; and who had gained  
Grace in her love; yet on her thus complained:  
Nausicaa! why bred thy mother one  
So negligent, in rites so stood upon  
By other virgins? Thy faite garments lie  
Neglected by thee; yet thy Nuptials nigh.  
When, rich in all attire, both thou shouldst be,  
And garments give to others honouring thee,  
That lead thee to the Temple. Thy good name  
Grows amongst men for these things; they inflame  
Father, and reverend Mother with delight.  
Come; when the Day takes any wink from Night,  
Let's to the river, and repurifie  
Thy wedding garments: my society  
Shall freely serve thee, for thy speedier aid,  
Because thou shalt no more stand on the Maid.  
The best of all Phaeacia woo thy Grace,  
Where thou wert bred, and ow'st thyself a race.  
Up, and stir up to thee thy honoured Sire,  
To give thee Mules and Coach; thee and thy tire;  
Veils, girdles, mantles, early to the flood,  
To bear in state. It suits thy high-born blood;  
And far more fits thee, then to foot so far;  
For far from town thou know'st the Bath-founts are.  
This said; away blue-eyd Minerva went  
Up to Olympus: the firm Continent, 
Olympus' described.   
That bears in endless being, the deified kind;  
That's neither soused with showers, nor shook with wind;  
Nor chilld with snow; but where Serenity flies,  
Exempt from clouds; and ever-beamie skies  
Circled the glittering hill. And all their days,  
Give the delights of blessed Deity praise.  
And hither Pallas flew; and left the Maid,  
When she had all that might excite her, said.  
Straight rose the lovely Morn, that up did raise  
Faire-veild Nausicaa; whose dream, her praise  
To Admiration took. Who no time spent  
To give the rapture of her vision vent,  
To her loved parents: whom she found within.  
Her mother set at fire, who had to spin  
A Rock, whose tincture with sea-purple shined;  
Her maids about her. But she chanced to find  
Her Father going abroad: to Counsel called  
By his grave Senate. And to him, exhaled  
Her smothered bosom was. 
This familiar & near wanton carriage of Nausicaa to her father, joined with that virgin modesty expressed in her after, is much praised by the gravest of Homer's expositors; with her father's loving allowance of it; knowing her shamefastness and judgement, would not let her exceed at any part. Which note ●here inserted, not as if this were more worthy the observation than other every where strewed flowers of precept; but because this more generally pleasing su●●ect may perhaps find more fitness for the stay of most Readers.  Loved Sire (said she)  
Will you not now command a Coach for me?  
Stately and complete? fit for me to bear  
To wash at flood, the weeds I cannot wear  
Before repurified? Yourself it fits  
To wear fair weeds; as every man that sits  
In place of counsel. And five sons you have;  
Two wed; three Bachelors; that must be brave  
In every days shift, that they may go dance;  
For these three last, with these things must advance  
Their states in marriage: and who else but I  
Their sister, should their dancing rites supply?  
This general cause she showed; and would not name  
Her mind of Nuptials to her Sire, for shame.  
He understood her yet; and thus replied:  
Daughter! nor these, nor any grace beside,  
I either will deny thee, or defer,  
Mules, nor a Coach, of state and circular,  
Fitting at all parts. Go; my servants shall  
Serve thy desires, and thy command in all.  
The servants then (commanded) soon obeyed;  
Fetched Coach, and Mules joined in it. Then the Maid  
Brought from the chamber her rich weeds, and laid  
All up in Coach: in which, her mother placed  
A maund of victles, varied well in taste,  
And other junkets. Wine she likewise filled  
Within a goatskin bottle, and distilled  
Sweet and moist oil into a golden Cruse,  
Both for her daughters, and her handmaid's use;  
To soften their bright bodies, when they rose  
Cleansed from their cold baths. Up to Coach then goes  
T●'obserued Maid: takes both the scourge and rains;  
And to her side, her handmaid straight attains.  
Nor these alone, but other virgins graced  
The Nuptial Chariot. The whole Bevie placed;  
Nausicaa scourged to make the Coach Mules run;  
That neighed, and paced their usual speed; and soon,  
Both maids and weeds, brought to the river side;  
Where Baths for all the year, their use supplied.  
Whose waters were so pure, they would not stain;  
But still ran fair forth; and did more remain  
Apt to purge stains; for that purged stain within,  
Which, by the waters pure store, was not seen.  
These (here arrived,) the Mules uncoacht, and drove  
Up to the gulphie rivers shore, that gave  
Sweet grass to them. The maids from Coach than took  
Their clothes, and steeped them in the sable brook.  
Then put them into springs, and trod them clean,  
With cleanly feet; adventring wagers then,  
Who should have soonest, and most cleanly done.  
When having thoroughly cleansed, they spread them on  
The floods shore, all in order. And then, where  
The waves the pebbles washed, and ground was clear,  
They bathed themselves; and all with glittering oil,  
Smoothed their white skins: refreshing then their toil  
With pleasant dinner, by the rivers side.  
Yet still watched when the Sun, their clothes had dried.  
Till which time (having dined) Nausicae  
With other virgins, did at stoolball play;  
Their shoulder-reaching head-tires laying by.  
Nausicae (with the wrists of Ivory)  
The liking struck struck; singing first a song;  
(As custom ordered) and amidst the throng,  
Made such a show; and so past all was seen;  
As when the Chast-borne, Arrow-loving Queen, 
Simile.   
Along the mountains gliding; either over  
Spartan Taygetus, whose tops far discover;  
Or Eurymanthus; in the wild Boar's chase;  
Or swift-houed Hart; and with her, Ioues fair race  
(The field Nymphs) sporting. Amongst whom, to see  
How far Diana had priority  
(Though all were fair) for fairness; yet of all,  
(As both by head and forehead being more tall)  
Latona triumphed; since the dullest sight,  
Might easily judge, whom her pains brought to light;  
Nausicaa so (whom never husband tamed)▪  
Above them all, in all the beauties flamed.  
But when they now made homewards, and arrayed;  
Ordering their weeds, disordered as they played;  
Mules and Coach ready; then Minerva thought,  
What means to wake Ulysses, might be wrought,  
That he might see this lovely sighted maid,  
Whom she intended, should become his aid:  
Bring him to Town; and his return advance.  
Her mean was 
* The piety and wisdom of the Po●t was such, that (agreeing with the sacred letter) not the least of things he makes come to pass, sine Numinis providentia. As Spond well notes of him  this, (though thought a stoolball chance)  
The Queen now (for the upstroke) struck the ball  
Quite wide off th'other maids; and made it fall  
Amidst the whirlpooles. At which, out shrieked all;  
And with the shrieke, did wise Ulysses wake:  
Who, sitting up, was doubtful who should make  
That sudden outcry; and in mind, thus strived:  
On what a people am I now arrived?  
At civil hospitable men, that fear  
The Gods? or dwell injurious mortals here?  
Unjust, and churlish? like the female cry  
Of youth it sounds. What are they? Nymphs bred high,  
On tops of hills? or in the founts of floods?  
In herbie marshes? or in levy woods?  
Or are they high-spoke men, I now am near?  
I'll prove, and see. With this, the wary Peer  
Crept forth the thicket; and an Olive bough  
Broke with his broad hand; which he did bestow  
In covert of his nakedness; and then,  
Put ha●tie head out: Look how from his den,  
A mountain Lion looks, 
Simile.  that, all imbrued  
With drops of trees; and weatherbeaten hewed;  
(Bold of his strength) goes on; and in his eye,  
A burning furnace glows; all bent to prey  
On sheep, or oxen; or the upland Hart;  
His belly charging him; and he must part  
Stakes with the Herdsman, in his beasts attempt,  
Even where from rape, their strengths are most exempt:  
So wet, so weather-beate, so stung with Need,  
Even to the home-fields of the country's breed,  
Ulysses was to force forth his access,  
Though merely naked; and his sight did press  
The eyes of soft-haird virgins. Horrid was  
His rough appearance to them: the hard pass  
He had at sea, stuck by him. All in flight  
The Virgins scattered, frighted with this sight,  
About the prominent windings of the flood.  
All but Nausicaa fled; but she fast stood:  
Pall●s had put a boldness in her breast;  
And in her fair limbs, tender Fear compressed.  
And still she stood him, as resolved to know  
What man he was; or out of what should grow  
His strange repair to them. And here was he  
Put to his wisdom; if her virgin knee,  
He should be bold, but kneeling, to embrace;  
Or keep aloof, and t●ie with words of grace,  
In humblest suppliance, if he might obtain  
Some cover for his nakedness; and gain  
Her grace to show and guide him to the Town.  
The last, he best thought, to be worth his own,  
In weighing both well: to keep still aloof,  
And give with soft words, his desires their proof;  
Lest pressing so near, as to touch her knee,  
He might incense her maiden modesty.  
This fair and filled speech then, showed this was he.  
Let me beseech (O Queen) this truth of thee;  
Are you of mortal, or the deified race? 
Ulysses' to Na●sicaa.   
If of the Gods, that th'ample heavens embrace;  
I can resemble you to none above,  
So near as to the chast-borne birth of jove,  
The beamy Cynthia. Her you full present,  
In grace of every Godlike lineament;  
Her goodly magnitude; and all th'address  
You promise of her very perfectness.  
If sprung of humans, that inhabit earth;  
Thrice blest are both the authors of your birth;  
Thrice blest your brothers, that in your deserts,  
Must, even to rapture, bear delighted hearts;  
To see so like the first trim of a tree,  
Your form adorn a dance. But most ble●t, he  
Of all that breath, that hath the gift t'engage  
Your bright neck in the yoke of marriage;  
And deck his house with your commanding merit.  
I have not seen a man of so much spirit.  
Nor man, nor woman, I did ever see,  
At all parts equal to the parts in thee.  
T'enjoy your sight, doth Admiration seize  
My eyes, and apprehensive faculties.  
Lately in Delos (with a charge of men  
Arrived, that rendered me most wretched then,  
Now making me thus naked) I beheld  
The burden of a Palm, whose issue swelled  
About Apollo's Fane; and that put on  
A grace like thee; for Earth had never none  
Of all her Sylvan issue so adorned:  
Into amaze my very soul was turned,  
To give it observation; as now thee  
To view (O Virgin) a stupidity  
Past admiration strikes me; joined with fear  
To do a suppliants due, and press so near,  
As to embrace thy knees. Nor is it strange;  
For one of fresh and firmest spirit, would change  
T'embrace so bright an object. But, for me,  
A cruel habit of calamity,  
Prepared the strong impression thou hast made:  
For this last Day did fly Nights twentieth shade  
Since I, at length, escaped the sable seas;  
When in the mean time, th'unrelenting press  
Of waves and stern storms, tossed me up and down,  
From th'isle Ogygia: and now God hath thrown  
My wrack on this shore; that perhaps I may  
My miseries vary here: for yet their stay,  
I fear, heaven hath not ordered: though before  
These late afflictions, it hath lent me store.  
O Queen, deign pity then, since first to you  
My Fate importunes my distress to vow.  
No other Dame, nor man, that this Earth own,  
And neighbour City, I have seen or known.  
The Town then show me; give my nakedness  
Some shroud to shelter it, if to these seas,  
Linen or woollen, you have brought to cleanse.  
God give you, in requital, all th'amends  
Your heart can wish: a husband, family,  
And good agreement: Nought beneath the sky,  
More sweet, more worthy is, then firm consent  
Of man and wife, in household government.  
It joys their wishers well; their enemy's wounds;  
But to themselves, the special good redounds.  
She answered: 
Nausica● to Ulysses.  Stranger! I discern in thee,  
Nor Sloth, nor Folly reigns; and yet I see,  
thouart poor and wretched. In which I conclude,  
That Industry nor wisdom make endued  
Men with those gifts, that make them best to th'eye;  
jove only order man's felicity.  
To good and bad, his pleasure fashions still,  
The whole proportion of their good and ill.  
And he perhaps hath formed this plight in thee,  
Of which, thou must be patient, as he, free.  
But after all thy wanderings, since thy way,  
Both to our Earth, and near our City, lay,  
As being exposed to our cares to relieve;  
Weeds, and what else, a human hand should give,  
To one so suppliant, and tamed with woe;  
Thou shalt not want. Our City, I will show;  
And tell our people's name: This neighbour Town,  
And all this kingdom, the Phaeacians own.  
And (since thou seemdst so fain, to know my birth;  
And mad'st a question, if of heaven or earth)  
This Earth hath bred me; and my Father's name  
Alcinous is; that in the power and frame  
Of this Isle's rule, is supereminent.  
Thus (passing him) she to the Virgins went.  
And said: Give stay, both to your feet and fright;  
Why thus disperse ye, for a man's mere sight?  
Esteem you him a Cyclops, that long since  
Made use to prey upon our Citizens? 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Cui vitalis vel sensualis humiditas inest. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; ut dicatur quasi 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, quod nihil sit magis fluxum quam homo.   
This man, no moist man is; (nor waterish thing,  
That's ever flitting; ever ravishing  
All it can compass; and, like it, doth range  
In rape of women; never stayed in change)  
This man is truly 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. virili animo praeditus, fortis, magnanimus. Nor are those affirmed to be men; qui servile quidpiam & abiectum faciunt; vel, ●acere sustinent: according to this of Herod●tus in Poly: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Many, men's forms sustain, but few are men.  manly, wise, and stayed;  
In soul more rich; the more to sense decayed.  
Who, nor will do, nor suffer to be done,  
Acts lewd and abject; nor can such a one  
Greet the Phaeacians, with a mind envious;  
Dear to the Gods they are; and he is pious.  
Besides, divided from the world we are;  
The outpart of it; billows circular  
The sea revolving, round about our shore;  
Nor is there any man, that enters more  
Than our own countrymen, with what is brought  
From other countries. This man, minding nought  
But his relief: a poor unhappy wretch,  
Wracked here; and hath no other land to fetch.  
Him now we must provide for; from jove▪ come  
All strangers, 
According to an other translator: Ab love nam supplex pauper, procedit & holpes: Res brevis, at chara est, Magni quoque mune●is i●star. Which I cite to show his good when he keeps him to the Original; and near in any degree expounds it.  and the needy of a home.  
Who any gift, though ne'er so small it be,  
Esteem as great, and take it gratefully.  
And therefore Virgins, give the stranger food,  
And wine; and see ye bathe him in the flood;  
Near to some shore, to shelter most inclined;  
To cold Bath-bathers, hurtful is the wind.  
Not only rugged making th'outward skin,  
But by his thin powers, pierceth parts within.  
This said; their flight in a return they set;  
And did Ulysses with all grace entreat:  
Showed him a shore, wind● proof, and full of shade:  
By him a shirt, and utter mantle laid.  
A golden jug of liquid oil did add;  
Bad wash; and all things as Nausicaa bade.  
Divine Ulysses would not use their aid;  
But thus bespoke them: 
Ulysses' modesty to the Virgins.  Every lovely maid,  
Let me entreat to stand a little by;  
That I alone the fresh flood may apply, 
He taught their youth's modesty, by his aged judgement. As receiving the custom of maids than used to that entertainment of men: notwithstanding the modesty of that age, could not be corrupted inwardly, for those outward kind observations of guests and strangers, and was therefore privileged. It is easy to a●oide show: and those that most curiously avoid the outward construction, are ever most tainted with the inward corruption.   
To cleanse my bosom of the sea-wrought brine.  
And then use oil; which long time did not shine  
On my poor shoulders. I'll not wash in sight  
Of faire-haird maidens. I should blush outright,  
To bathe all bare by such a virgin light.  
They moved, and mused, a man had so much grace;  
And told their Mistress, what a man he was.  
He cleansed his broad-soild-shoulders; back and head  
Yet never tamed. But now, had foam and weed,  
Knit in the fair curls. Which dissolved; and he  
Slicked all with sweet oil: the sweet charity,  
The untouched virgin showed in his attire,  
He clothed him with. Then Pallas put a fire,  
More than before, into his sparkling eyes;  
His late soil set off, with his soon fresh guise.  
His locks (cleansed) curled the more; and matched (in power  
To please an eye) the Hyacinthian flower.  
And as a workman, that can well combine  
Silver and gold; and make both strive to shine;  
As being by Vulcan, and Minerva too,  
Taught how far either may be urged to go, 
Simile.   
In strife of eminence; when work sets forth  
A worthy soul, to bodies of such worth;  
No thought reproving th'act, in any place;  
Nor Art no debt to Nature's liveliest grace:  
So Pallas wrought in him, a grace as great,  
From head to shoulders; and ashore did seat  
His goodly presence. To which, such a guise  
He showed in going, that it ravished eyes.  
All which (continued) as he sat apart;  
Nausicaas eye struck wonder through her heart; 
Nausicaas admiration of Ulysses.   
Who thus bespoke her consorts: Hear me, you  
Faire-wristed Virgins; this rare man (I know)  
Treads not our country earth, against the will  
Of some God, throned on the Olympian hill.  
He showed to me, till now, not worth the note;  
But now he looks, as he had Godhead got.  
I would to heaven, my husband were no worse;  
And would be called no better; but the course  
Of other husbands pleased to dwell out here:  
Observe and serve him, with our utmost cheer.  
She said; they heard, and did. He drunk and eat  
Like to a Harpy; having touched no meat  
A long before time. But Nausicaa now  
Thought of the more grace, she did lately vow:  
Had horse to Chariot joined; and up she rose:  
Up cheered her guest, and said: Guest, now dispose  
Yourself for Town; that I may let you see  
My Father's Court; where all the Peers will be  
Of our Phaeacian State. At all parts then,  
Observe to whom, and what place y'are t'attain;  
Though I need usher you with no advice,  
Since I suppose you absolutely wise.  
While we the fields pass, and men's labours there;  
So long (in these maids guides) directly bear  
Upon my Chariot (I must go before,  
For cause that after comes: to which, this more  
Be my induction) you shall then soon end  
Your way to Town; whose Towers you see ascend  
To such a steepness. On whose either side,  
A fair Port stands; to which is nothing wide  
An enterers passage: on whose both hands ride  
Ships in fair harbours; 
The City's description so far forth as may in part, induce her promised reason, why she took no● Ulysses to coach with her.  which, once past, you win  
The goodly market place, (that circles in  
A Fane to Neptune, built of curious stone,  
And passing ample) where munition,  
Gables, and masts men make, and polished oars;  
For the Phaeacians are not conquerors  
By bows nor quivers; Oars, masts, ships they are,  
With which they plow the sea, and wage their war.  
And now the cause comes, why I lead the way,  
Not taking you to Coach. The men that sway  
In work of those tools, that so fit our State,  
Are rude Mechanical; that rare and late  
Work in the market place; and those are they  
Whose bitter tongues I shun; who straight would say,  
(For these vile vulgars' are extremely proud,  
And foully languaged) What, is he allowed  
To coach it with Nausicaa? so large set,  
And fairly fashioned? where were these two met?  
He shall be sure her husband. She hath been  
Gadding in some place; and (of foreign men,  
Fitting her fancy) kindly brought him home  
In her own ship. He must, of force, be come  
From some far region; we have no such man.  
It may be (praying hard, when her heart ran  
On some wished husband) out of heaven, some God  
Dropped in her lap; and there lies she at road,  
Her complete life time. But, in sooth, if she  
Ranging abroad, a husband such as he,  
Whom now we saw, laid hand on; she was wise,  
For none of all our Nobles, are of prize  
Enough for her: he must beyond-sea come,  
That wins her high mind, and will have her home.  
Of our Peers, many have importuned her,  
Yet she will none. Thus these folks will confer  
Behind my back; or (meeting) to my face,  
The foule-mouth rout dare put home this disgrace.  
And this would be reproaches to my fame;  
For even myself, just anger would inflame,  
If any other virgin I should see  
(Her parents living) keep the company  
Of any man; to any end of love,  
Till open Nuptials should her act approve.  
And therefore hear me guest; and take such way,  
That you yourself may compass, in your stay,  
Your quick deduction, by my Father's grace;  
And means to reach the root of all your race.  
We shall, not far out of our way to Town,  
A never-felld Grove find, that Poplars crown;  
To Pallas sacred, where a fountain flows;  
And round about the Grove, a Meadow grows;  
In which, my Father holds a Manor house;  
Decked all with Orchards, green, and odorous;  
As far from Town, as one may hear a shout.  
There stay, and rest your foot pains; till full out  
We reach the City. Where, when you may guess  
We are arrived, and enter our access  
Within my Father's Court: then put you on  
For our Ph●●cian State; where, to be shown  
My Father's house, desire. Each infant there  
Can bring you to it; and yourself will clear  
Distinguish it from others: for no shows,  
The City buildings make; compared with those  
That King Alcinous seat doth celebrate.  
In whose roofs, and the Court, (where men of state,  
And suitors sit and stay) when you shall hide:  
Straight pass it, entering further: where abide  
My Mother, with her withdrawn houswiferies;  
Who still sits in the fire ashine, and applies  
Her Rock, all purple, and of pompous show:  
Her Chair placed 'gainst a Pillar: all a-row  
Her maids behind her set; and ●o her here,  
My Father's dining Throne looks. Seated where  
He powers his choice of wine in, like a God.  
This view once past; for th'end of your abode,  
Address suit to my Mother; that her mean,  
May make the day of your redition scene.  
And you may frolic straight, though far away  
You are in distance from your wished stay.  
For if she once be won to wish you well,  
Your Hope may instantly your Passport seal;  
And thenceforth sure abide to see your friends,  
Fair house, and all, to which your heart contends.  
This said; she used her shining scourge, and lashed  
Her Mules, that soon the shore left, where she washed;  
And (knowing well the way) their pace was fleet,  
And thick they gathered up their nimble feet.  
Which yet 
* Not without some little note of our omnisufficient Homer's general touch of the least fitness lying in his way, may this courtly discretion he describes in Nausicaa, be observed, if you please.  she tempered so; and used her scourge  
With so much skill; as not to ouer-v●ge  
The foot behind; and make them straggle so,  
From close society. Firm together go  
Ulysses and her maids. And now the Sun  
Sunk to the waters; when they all had won  
The never-feld, and sound-exciting wood,  
Sacred to Pallas: where the Godlike good  
Ulysses rested; and to Pallas prayed:  
Hear me, of Goate-kept jove, th'unconquered Maid;  
Now thoroughly hear me; 
More of our Poets curious and sweat pi●ti●.  since in all the time  
Of all my wrack, my prayers could never climb  
Thy far-off ears; when noiseful Neptune tossed  
Upon his watery brissels, my embossed  
And rock● torn body: hear yet now, and deign  
I may of the Phaeacian State obtain  
Pity, and grace. Thus prayed he; and she heard:  
By no means yet (exposed to sight) appeared,  
For fear t'offend her Uncle; the supreme  
Of all the 
* Neptun●.  Sea-Gods; whose wrath still extreme  
Stood to Ulysses; and would never cease,  
Till with his Country shore, he crowned his peace.  
Finis libri sexti Hom. Odyss.   

THE SEVENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
NAusicaa arrives at Town;  
And then Ulysses. He makes known  
His suit to Arete: who, view  
Takes of his vesture; which she knew;  
And asks him, from whose hands it came.  
He tells, with all the hapless frame  
Of his affairs, in all the while,  
Since he forsook Calypsos isle.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

The honoured minds,  
And welcome things,  
Ulysses finds,  
In Scherias' Kings.    
THus prayed the wise, and God-obseruing man..  
The Maid, by free force of her Palfreys, wan  
Access to Town; and the renowned Court,  
Reached of her Father; where, within the Port,  
She stayed her Coach; and round about her came  
Her Brothers, (made as of immortal frame.)  
Who yet disdained not, for her love, mean deeds;  
But took from 
* Haec fuit illi●● saeculi simplicita●: nam vel fratern●● quoque Amor, tantus fuit, ut libenter ●anc redeunti charissimae sorori, operam praestiter●nt.  
Spond.  Coach her Mules, brought in her weeds.  
And she ascends her chamber; where puruaid  
A quick fire was, by her old chambermaid  
Eurymedusa, th' Aper●●n borne;  
And brought by sea, from Apera, t'adorn  
The Court of great Alcinous; because  
He gave to all, the blessed Phaeacians laws;  
And, like a heaven-borne power in speech, acquired  
The people's ears. To one then so admired,  
Eurymedusa was esteemed no worse,  
Then worth the gift: yet now grown old, was Nurse  
To Ivory-armd Nausicaa; gave heat  
To all her fires, and dressed her privy meat.  
Then rose Ulysses, and made way to Town;  
Which ere he reached, a mighty mist was thrown  
By Pallas round about him; in her Care,  
Lest in the sway of envies popular,  
Some proud Phaeacian might foul language pass,  
justle him up, and ask him what he was.  
Entering the lovely Town yet: 
Vlys●es, à Minerva in aedes ●lcinoi perducitur, septus nebula.  through the cloud  
Pallas appeared; and like a young wench showed  
Bea●●ng a pitcher; Stood be●ore him so,  
As if objected purposely to know  
What there he needed; whom he questioned thus:  
Know you not (daughter) where Alcino●s,  
That rules this Town, dwells? ay, a poor distressed  
Mere stranger here; know none I may request,  
To make this Court known to me. She wordreplied:  
Strange Father; I will see you satisfied  
In that request: my Father dwells, just by  
The house you seek for; but go silently;  
Nor ask, nor speak to any other; I  
Shall be enough to show your way: the men  
That here inhabit, do not entertain  
With ready kindness, strangers; of what worth  
Or state soever: nor have taken forth  
Lessons of civil usage, or respect  
To men beyond them. They (upon their powers  
Of swift ships building) top the watery towers:  
And Ioue●ath ●ath given them ships, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ naves veloces veluti penna, atque cogitatio.  for sail so wrought,  
They cut a feather, and command a thought.  
This said; she usherd him; and after, he  
Trod in the swift steps of the Deity.  
The free-saild seamen could not get a sight  
Of our Ulysseses, yet: though he foreright,  
Both by their houses and their persons past:  
Pallas about him, such a darkness cast,  
By her divine power, and her reverend care,  
She would not give the Towne-borne, cause to stare.  
He wondered, as he passed, to see the Ports;  
The shipping in them; and for all resorts,  
The goodly market steds; and Isles beside  
For the Heroes; walls so large and wide;  
Rampires so high, and of such strength withal;  
It would with wonder, any eye appall.  
At last they reached the Court; and Pallas said:  
Now, honoured stranger; I will see obeyed  
Your will, to show our Ruler's house; 'tis here;  
Where you shall find, Kings celebrating cheer;  
Enter amongst them; nor admit a fear;  
More bold a man is, he prevails the more;  
Though man nor place, he ever saw before.  
You first shall find the Queen in Court, whose name  
Is Arete: 
Arete the wife of Alcinous.  of parents borne, the same  
That was the King her Spouse: their Pedigree  
I can report: the great Earth-shaker, he  
Of Periboea, (that her sex out-shone,  
And youngest daughter was, t' Eurymedon;  
Who of th'unmeasur'd-minded Giants, swayed  
Th'imperial Sceptre; and the pride allayed  
Of men so impious, 
For the more perspicuity of this pedigree, I have here set down the Diagran, as Spon danus hath it. Neptune begat Nausithous of Periboea. By Nausithous, Rhexenor, Alcinous, were begot. By Rhexenor, Ar●te, the wife of her uncle Alcinous.  with cold death; and died  
Himself soon after) got the magnified  
In mind, Nausithous; who the kingdoms state  
First held in supreme rule. Nausithous got  
Rhexenor, and Aicinous, now King:  
Rhexenor (whose seed did no male fruit spring;  
And whom the siluer-bow-glaced Phoebus slew  
Young in the Court) his shed blood did renew  
In only Arete; who now is Spouse  
To him that rules the kingdom, in this house,  
And is her Uncle; King Alcinous.  
Who honours her, past equal. She may boast  
More honour of him, 
The honour of Arete (or virtue) alleg.  than the honoured most  
Of any wife in earth, can of her Lord;  
How many more soever, Realms afford,  
That keep house under husbands. Yet no more  
Her husband honours her, than her blessed store  
Of gracious children. All the City cast  
Eyes on her, as a Goddess; and give taste  
Of their affections to her, in their prayers,  
Still as she decks the streets. For all affairs,  
Wrapped in contention, she dissolves to men.  
Whom she affects, she wants no mind to deign  
Goodness enough. If her heart stand inclined  
To your dispatch; hope all you wish to find;  
Your friends, your longing family, and all,  
That can within your most affections fall.  
This said; away the grey-eyed Goddess flew  
Along th'untamed sea. Left the lovely hue,  
Scheria presented. Out flew Marathon,  
And ample-streeted Athens lighted on.  
Where, to the house th●● casts so 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, spissus:  thick a shade,  
Of Erectheus; she ingression made.  
Ulysses, 
The Court of Alcinous.  to the loftie-builded Court  
Of King Alcinous, made bold resort;  
Yet in his heart cast many a thought, before  
The brazen pavement of the rich Court, bore  
His entered person. Like heavens two main Lights,  
The rooms illustrated, both days and nights.  
On every side stood firm a wall of brass,  
Even from the threshold to the inmost pass;  
Which bore a roof up, that all sapphire was;  
The brazen thresholds both sides, did enfold  
Silver Pilasters, hung with ga●es of gold;  
Whose portal was of silver; over which  
A golden Cornish did the front enrich.  
On each side, Dogs of gold and silver framed,  
The houses Guard stood; which the Deity (
* Vulcan.  lamed)  
With knowing inwards had inspired; and made,  
That Death nor Age, should their estates invade.  
Along the wall, stood every way a throne;  
From th'entry to the Lobby: every one,  
Cast over with a rich-wrought cloth of state.  
Beneath which, the Phaeacian Princes sat  
At wine and food; and feasted all the year.  
Youths forged of gold, at every table there,  
Stood holding flaming torches; that, in night  
Gave through the house, each honoured Guest, his light.  
And (to encounter feast with houswifry)  
In one room fifty women did apply  
Their several tasks. Some, apple-colourd corn  
Ground in fair Quernes; and some did spindle's turn.  
Some work in looms: no hand, least rest receives;  
But all had motion, apt, as Aspen leaves.  
And from the weeds they wove, (so fast they laid,  
And so thick thrust together, thread by thread)  
That th'oil (of which the wool had drunk his fill)  
Did with his moisture, in light dews distill.  
As much as the Phaeacian men excelled  
All other countrymen, in Art to build  
A swift-saild ship: so much the women there,  
For work of webs, past other women were.  
Past mean, by Pallas means, they understood  
The grace of good works; and had wits as good.  
Without the Hall, and close upon the Gate,  
A goodly Orchard ground was situate,  
Of near ten Acres; about which, was led  
A lofty Quickset. In it flourished  
High and broad fruit trees, that Pomegranates bore;  
Sweet Figs, 
Hortus Alcinoi memorabilis.  Pears, Olives, and a number more  
Most useful Plants, did there produce their store.  
Whose fruits, the hardest Winter could not kill;  
Nor hottest Summer wither. There was still  
Fruit in his proper season, all the year.  
Sweet Zephir breathed upon them, blasts that were  
Of varied tempers: these, he made to bear  
Ripe fruits: these blossoms: Pear grew after Pear;  
Apple succeeded apple; Grape, the Grape;  
Fig after Fig came; Time made never rape,  
Of any dainty there. A sprightly vine  
Spread here his root; whose fruit, a hot sunshine  
Made ripe betimes. Here grew another, green.  
Here, some were gathering; here, some pressing seen.  
A large-allotted several, each fruit had;  
And all th'adorned grounds, their appearance made,  
In flower and fruit, at which the King did aim,  
To the precisest order he could claim.  
Two Fountains graced the garden; of which, one  
powered out a winding stream, that overrun  
The grounds for their use chiefly: th'other went  
Close by the lofty Palace gate; and lent  
The City his sweet benefit: and thus  
The Gods the Court decked of Alcinous.  
Patient Ulysses stood a while at gaze;  
But (having all observed) made instant pace  
Into the Court; where all the Peers he found,  
And Captains of Phaeacia; with Cups crowned,  
Offering to sharp-eyd 
* Mercury.  Hermes: to whom, last  
They used to sacrifice; when Sleep had cast  
His inclination through their thoughts. But these,  
Ulysses' past; and forth went; nor their eyes  
took note of him: for Pallas stopped the light  
With mists about him; that, unstaid, he might  
First to Alcinous, and Arete,  
Present his person; and, of both them, she  
(By Pallas counsel) was to have the grace  
Of foremost greeting. Therefore his embrace,  
He cast about her knee. And then off flew  
The heavenly air that hid him. When his view,  
With silence and with Admiration struck  
The Court quite through: but thus he silence broke:  
Divine Rhexenors of spring, 
Areten, Ulysses supplex orat.  Arete;  
To thy most honoured husband, and to thee,  
A man whom many labours have distressed,  
Is come for comfort; and to every guest:  
To all whom, heaven vouchsafe delightsome lives;  
And after, to your issue that survives,  
A good resignment of the Goods ye leave;  
With all the honour that yourselves receive  
Amongst your people. Only this of me,  
Is the Ambition; that I may but see  
(By your vouchsafed means; and betimes vouchsafed)  
My country earth; since I have long been left  
To labours, and to errors, barred from end;  
And far from benefit of any friend.  
He said no more; but left them dumb with that;  
Went to the hearth, and in the ashes sat,  
Aside the fire. At last their silence broke;  
And Echinaeus, th'old Hero spoke.  
A man that all Phaeacians passed in years,  
And in persuasive eloquence, all the Peers;  
Knew much, and used it well; and thus spoke he:  
Alcinous! 
Echin●us to Alcinous.  it shows not decently;  
Nor doth your honour, what you see, admit;  
That this your guest, should thus abjectly sit:  
His chair the earth; the hearth his cushion;  
Ashes, as if apposde for food: a Throne  
Adorned with duerites, stands you more in hand  
To see his person placed in; and command  
That instantly your Heralds fill in wine;  
That to the God that doth in lightnings shine,  
We may do sacrifice: for he is there,  
Where these his reverend suppliants appear.  
Let what you have within, be brought abroad,  
To sup the stranger. All these would have showed  
This fit respect to him; but that they stay  
For your precedence, that should grace the way.  
When this had wordadded to the well-inclined,  
And sacred order of Alcinous mind;  
Then, of the great in wit, the hand he seized;  
And from the ashes, his fair person raised;  
Advanced him to a well-adorned Throne;  
And from his seat raised his most loved son,  
(Laodamas, that next himself was set)  
To give him place▪ The handmaid than did get  
An Ewer of gold, with water filled; which placed  
Upon a Cauldron, all with silver graced)  
She powered out on their hands. And then was spread  
A Table, which the Butler set with bread;  
As others served with other food, the board;  
In all the choice, the present could afford.  
Ulysses, meat and wine took; and then thus;  
The King the Herald called: Pontonous!  
Serve wine through all the house; that all may pay  
Rites to the Lightner, who is still in way  
With humble suppliants; and them pursues,  
With all benign, and hospitable dues.  
Pontonous, gave act to all he willed,  
And honey sweetnesse-giving-minds- 
* The word that bears this long Epith●●●, is translated only dolce: which signifies more. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Vinum quod mellea dulce. dine, animum perfundit, & oblectat.  wine filled;  
Disposing it in cups for all to drink.  
All having drunk, what either's heart could think  
Fit for due sacrifice; Alcinous said:  
Hear me, ye Dukes, that the Phaeacians lead;  
And you our Counsellors; that I may now  
Discharge the charge, my mind suggests to you,  
For this our guest: Feast past, and this night's sleep;  
Next morn (our Senate summoned) we will keep  
justs, sacred to the Gods; and this our Guest  
Receive in solemn Court, with fitting Feast:  
Then think of his return; that under hand  
Of our deduction; his natural land  
(Without more toil or care; and with delight;  
And that soon given him; how far hence dissite  
Soever it can be) he may a●cend;  
And in the mean time, 
Ascent to his Country's shore.  without wrong attend,  
Or other want; fit means to that ascent.  
What, after, austere Fates, shall make th'event  
Of his life's thread (now spinning, and began  
When his pained mother, freed his root of man)  
He must endure in all kinds. 
Eustathius will have this comparison of the Phaeacians with the Giants and Cyclops, to proceed out of the inveterate virulency of Anti●ous to the Cyclops, who were cause (as is before said) of their remove from their country; & with great endeavour labours the approbation of it: but (under his peace) from the purpose: for the sense of the Poet is clear, that the Cyclops & Giants being in part the issue of the Gods, and yet afterward their defiers, (as Polyp, hereafter dares profess) Antinous (out of bold a●d manly reason, even to the face of one that might have been a God, for the past manly appearance he made there) would tell him, and the rest in him, that if they graced those Cyclops with their open appearance, that though descended from them, durst yet deny them; they might much more do them the honour of their open presence that adored them.  If some God,  
Perhaps abides with us, in his abode;  
And other things will think upon then we;  
The Gods wills stand: who ever yet were free  
Of their appearance to us; when to them  
We offered Hecatombs, of fit esteem.  
And would at feast sit with us; even where we  
Ordered our Session. They would likewise be  
Encountrers of us, when in way, alone  
About his fit affairs, went any one.  
Not let them cloak themselves in any care,  
To do us comfort; we as near them are,  
As are the Cyclops; or the impious race,  
Of earthy Giants, that would heaven outface.  
Ulysses' answered; Let some other doubt  
Employ your thoughts, than what your words give out;  
Which intimate a kind of doubt, that I  
Should shadow in this shape, a Deity.  
I bear no such least semblance; or in wit,  
Virtue, or person. What may well befit  
One of those mortals, whom you chiefly know,  
Bears up and down, the burden of the woe  
Appropriate to poor man; give that to me;  
Of whose moans I sit, in the most degree;  
And might say more; sustaining griefs that all  
The God's consent to: no one twixt their fall  
And my unpitied shoulders, letting down  
The least diversion. Be the grace then shown,  
To let me taste your free-given food, in peace:  
Through greatest grief, the belly must have ease.  
Worse than an envious belly, nothing is.  
It will command his strict Necessities,  
Of men most grieved in body or in mind,  
That are in health, and will not give their kind,  
A desperate wound. When most with cause I grieve,  
It bids me still, Eat man, and drink, and live;  
And this makes all forgot. What ever ill  
I ever bear; it ever bids me fill.  
But this ease is but forced, and will not last,  
Till what the mindlikes, be as well embraced;  
And therefore let me wish you would partake  
In your late purpose; when the Morn shall make  
Her next appearance; deign me but the grace,  
(Unhappy man) that I may once embrace  
My country earth: though I be still thrust at,  
By ancient ills; yet make me but ●ee that;  
And then let life go. When (withal) I see  
My high-rooft large house, lands and family.  
This, all approved; and each, willed every one;  
Since he hath said so fairly; set him gone.  
Feast past, and sacrifice; to sleep, all vow  
Their eyes at either's house. Ulysses now,  
Was left here with Alcinous, and his Queen,  
The all-loued Arete. The handmaids than  
The vessel of the Banquet, took away.  
When Arete set eye on his array;  
Knew both his out, and underweed, which she  
Made with her maids; and mused by what means he  
Obtained their wearing: which she made request  
To know; and wings gave to these speeches: Guest!  
First let me ask, 
Arete to Ulysses.  what, and from whence you are?  
And then, who graced you with the weeds you wear?  
Said you not lately, you had erred at seas?  
And thence arrived here? Laertides  
To this, 
Ulysses' to Arete.  thus answered: 'tis a pain (O Queen)  
Still to be opening wounds wrought deep and green;  
Of which, the Gods have opened store in me;  
Yet your will must be served: far hence, at sea,  
There lies an I'll, that bears Ogygias name;  
Where Atlas' daughter, the ingenious Dame,  
Faire-haird Calypso lives: a Goddess grave,  
And with whom, men, nor Gods, society have.  
Yet I (past man unhappy) lived alone,  
By heavens wrath forced) her house companion.  
For jove had with a fervent lightning cleft  
My ship in twain; and far at black sea left  
Me and my soldiers; all whose lives I lost.  
ay, in mine arms the keel took, and was tossed  
Nine days together up from wave to wave.  
The tenth grim Night, the angry Deities drove  
Me and my wrack, on th'isle, in which doth dwell  
Dreadful Calypso; who exactly well  
Received and nourished me; and promise made,  
To make me deathless: nor should Age invade  
My powers with his deserts, through all my days.  
All moved not me; and therefore, on her stays,  
Seven years she made me lie: and there spent I  
The long time; steeping in the misery  
Of ceaseless tears, the Garments I did wear  
From her fair hand. The eight revolved year,  
(Or by her changed mind; or by charge of jove)  
She gave provoked way to my wished remove;  
And in a many-jointed ship, with wine,  
(Dainty in savour) bread, and weeds divine;  
Signed with a harmless and sweet wind, my pass.  
Then, seventeen days at sea, I homeward was;  
And by the eighteenth, the dark hills appeared,  
That your Earth thrusts up. Much my heart was cheered;  
(Unhappy man) for that was but a beam;  
To show I yet, had agonies extreme,  
To put in sufferance: which th'Earth-shaker sent;  
Crossing my way, with tempests violent;  
Unmeasured seas up-lifting: nor would give  
The billows leave, to let my vessel live  
The least time quiet: that even sighed to bear  
Their bitter outrage: which, at last, did tear  
Her sides in pieces, set on by the winds.  
I yet, through-swomme the waves, that your shore binds,  
Till wind and water threw me up to it;  
When, coming forth, a ruthless billow smit  
Against huge rocks, and an acceslesse shore  
My mangled body. Back again I bore,  
And swom till I was fallen upon a flood,  
Whose shores, me thought, on good advantage stood,  
For my receipt: rock-free, and fenced from wind.  
And this I put for, gathering up my mind.  
Then the divine Night came; and treading Earth,  
Close by the flood, that had from jove her birth.  
Within a thicket I reposed; when round  
I ruffld up fallen leaves in heap; and found  
(Let fall from heaven) a sleep interminate.  
And here, my heart (long time excruciate)  
Amongst the leaves I rested all that night;  
Even till the morning and meridian light.  
The Sun declining then; delightsome sleep,  
No longer laid my temples in his steep;  
But forth I went, and on the shore might see  
Your daughter's maids play. Like a Deity  
She shined above them; and I prayed to her:  
And she, in disposition did prefer  
Noblesse, and wisdom, no more low than might  
Become the goodness of a Goddess height.  
Nor would you therefore hope (supposed distressed  
As I was then, and old) to find the least  
Of any Grace from her; being younger far.  
With young folks, Wisdom makes her commerce rare.  
Yet she in all abundance did bestow,  
Both wine (that makes the 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Vinum calefaciendi vim habens.  blood in humans grow)  
And food; and bathed me in the flood; and gave  
The weeds to me, which now ye see me have.  
This, through my griefs I tell you; and 'tis true.  
Alcinous answered: Guest! my daughter knew  
Lest of what most you give her; nor became  
The course she took, to let, with every Dame,  
Your person lackey; nor hath with them brought  
Yourself home to; which first you had besought.  
O blame her not (said he) Heroical Lord;  
Nor let me hear, against her worth, a word.  
She faultless is; and wished I would have gone  
With all her women home: but I alone  
Would venture my receipt here; having fear  
And reverend awe of accidents that were  
Of likely issue: both your wrath to move,  
And to inflame the common people's love,  
Of speaking ill: to which they soon give place;  
We men are all a most suspicious race.  
My guest (said he) I use not to be stirred  
To wrath too rashly; and where are preferred  
To men's conceits, things that may both ways fail;  
The noblest ever should the most prevail.  
Would jove our Father, Pallas, and the Sun,  
That (were you still as now, and could but run  
One Fate with me) you would my daughter wed,  
And be my son-in-law; still vowed to lead  
Your rest of life here. ay, a house would give,  
And household goods; so freely you would live,  
Confined with us: but 'gainst you will, shall none  
Contain you here; since that were violence done  
To jove our Father. For your passage home,  
That you may well know, we can overcome  
So great a voyage; thus it shall succeed:  
To morrow shall our men take all their heed  
(While you securely sleep) to see the seas  
In calmest temper; and (if that will please)  
Show you your Country and your house ere night;  
Though far beyond Euboea be that sight.  
And this Euboea (as our subjects say,  
That have been there, and seen) is far away  
Farthest from us, of all the parts they know.  
And made the trial, when they helped to row  
The gold-lockt Rhadamant; to give him view  
Of Earthborn Tityus: whom their speeds did show  
(In that far-off Euboea) the same day  
They set from hence; and home made good their way,  
With ease again, and him they did convey.  
Which, I report to you, to let you see  
How swift my ships are; and how matchlesly  
My young Phaecians, with their oars prevail,  
To beat the sea through, and assist a sail.  
This cheered Ulysses; who in private prayed:  
I would to jove our Father, what he said,  
He could perform at all parts; he should then  
Be glorified for ever; and I gain  
My natural Country. This discourse they had;  
When faire-armd Arete, her handmaids bade  
A bed make in the Portico; and ply  
With clothes; the Covering Tapestry;  
The Blankets purple. Wel●napt Wastcoates too,  
To wear for more warmth. What these had to do,  
They torch's took, and did. The Bed puruaid;  
They moved Ulysses for his rest; and said:  
Come Guest, your Bed is fit; now frame to rest.  
Motion of sleep, was gracious to their Guest;  
Which now he took profoundly; being laid  
Within a loop-hole Tower, where was conveyed  
The sounding Portico. The King took rest  
In a retired part of the house; where dressed  
The Queen herself, a Bed, and Trundlebed;  
And by her Lord, reposed her reverend head.  
Finis libri septimi Hom. Odyss.   

THE EIGHTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
THe Peers of the Phaeacian State,  
A Council call, to consolate  
Ulysses, with all means for Home.  
The Council to a Banquet come.  
Innited by the king: which done;  
Assays for hurling of the stone,  
The Youths make with the stranger king.  
Demodecus, at feast, doth sing  
Th' Adultery of the God of Arms  
With her that rules, in Amorous charms.  
And after, sings the intercourse  
Of Acts about th' Epaean Horse.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

The Counsels frame,  
At fleet applied;  
In strifes of Game,  
Ulysses tried.    
NOw when the Rosie-fingerd morn arose;  
The sacred power Alcinous did dispose  
Did likewise rise; and like him, left his Ease,  
The Cittie-racer Laertiades.  
The Council at the Navy was designed;  
To which Alcinous, with the sacred mind,  
Came first of all. On polished stones they sat  
Near to the Navy. To increase the state,  
Minerva took the herald's form on her  
That served Alcinous; studious to prefer  
Ulysses' Suit for home. About the town  
She made quick way; 
Pallas like the Herald.  and filled with the renown  
Of that design, the ears of every man:  
Proclaiming thus; Peers Phaeacensian!  
And men of Council: all haste to the Court;  
To hear the stranger that made late resort  
To king Alcinous: long time lost at Sea;  
And is in person, like a Deity.  
This, all their powers set up; and spirit instilled;  
And strait the Court and seats, with men were filled.  
The whole State wondered at Laertes Son  
When they beheld him. Pallas put him on  
A supernatural, and heavenly dress;  
Enlarged him with a height, and goodliness  
In breast, and shoulders; that he might appear  
Gracious, and grave, and reverend; and bear  
A perfect hand on his performance there,  
In all the trials they resolved t'impose.  
All met; and gathered in attention close;  
Alcinous thus bespoke them: 
Alcinous exhorts the Phaeacians to the belief of Ulysses.  Dukes, and Lords;  
Hear me digest, my hearty thoughts in words:  
This Stranger here whose travels found my Court;  
I know not; nor can tell if his resort  
From East or West comes: But his suit is this;  
That to his Country earth we would dismis  
His hither-forced person; and doth bear  
The mind to pass it under every Peer:  
Whom I prepare, and stir up; making known  
My free desire of his deduction.  
Nor shall there ever, any other man  
That tries the goodness Phaeacensian,  
In me, and my Court's entertainment; stay  
Mourning for passage, under least delay.  
Come then; A ship into the sacred seas,  
New-built, now launch we; and from out our press;  
Choose two and fifty Youths; of all, the best  
To use an oar. All which, see strait impressed;  
And in their Oare-bound seats. Let others hie  
Home to our Court; commanding instantly  
The solemn preparation of a feast;  
In which, provision may for any guest  
Be made at my charge. Charge of these low things,  
I give our Youth. You Scepter-bearing kings,  
Consort me home; and help with grace to use  
This guest of ours: no one man shall refuse.  
Some other of you, haste, and call to us  
The sacred singer, grave Demodocus;  
To whom hath God given, song that can excite  
The heart of whom he listeth with delight.  
This said, he led. The Scepter-bearers lent  
Their free attendance; and with all speed, went  
The herald for the sacred man in song.  
Youths two and fifty; chosen from the throng  
Went, as was willed, to the untamed seas shore;  
Where come; they launched the ship: the Mast it bore  
Advanced, sails hoist; every seat, his Ore  
Gave with a leather thong: the deep moist than  
They further reached. The dry streets flowed with men;  
That trouped up to the kings capacious Court.  
Whose Porticos, were choked with the resort:  
Whose walls were hung with men: young, old, thrust there,  
In mighty concourse; for whose promised cheer  
Alcinous slew twelve Sheep; eight white-toothd Swine:  
Two crook-hancht beeves; which flayed, and dressed, divine  
The show was of so many a jocund Guest  
All set together, at so set a feast.  
To whose accomplished state, the Herald then  
The lovely Singer led; 
Demodocus Poeta.  Who past all mean  
The Muse affected; gave him good, and ill;  
His eyes put out; but put in soul at will.  
His place was given him, in a chair, all graced  
With silver studs, and 'gainst a Pillar placed;  
Where, as the Centre to the State, he rests;  
And round about, the circle of the Guests.  
The Herald, on a Pin, above his head  
His soundfull harp hung: to whose height, he led  
His hand for taking of it down at will.  
A Board set by, with food; and forth did fill  
A Bowl of wine, to drink at his desire.  
The rest then, fell to feast; and when the fire  
Of appetite was quenched: the Muse inflamed  
The sacred Singer. Of men highliest famed,  
He sung the glories; and a Poem penned,  
That in applause, 
The contention of Achilles and Ulysses.  did ample heaven ascend.  
Whose subject was, the stern contention  
Betwixt Ulysses, and Great Thetis Son;  
As, at a banquet, sacred to the Gods  
In dreadful language, they expressed their odds.  
When Agamemnon, sat rejoiced in soul  
To hear the Greek Peers jar, in terms so foul;  
For Augur Phoebus, in presage had told  
The king of men, (desirous to unfold  
The wars perplexed end; and being therefore gone  
In heavenly Pythia, to the Porch of stone,)  
That then the end, of all griefs should begin,  
Twixt Greece, and Troy; when Greece (with strife to win  
That wished conclusion) in her kings should jar;  
And plead, if force, or wit must end the war.  
This brave contention did the Poet sing;  
Expressing so the spleen of either king;  
That his large purple weed, 
Vlys●i movetur fletus.  Ulysses held  
Before his face, and eyes; since thence distilled  
Tears uncontaind; which he obscured, in fear  
To let th'observing Presence, note a tear.  
But when his sacred song the mere Divine  
Had given an end; a Goblet crowned with wine  
Ulysses (drying his wet eyes) did seize;  
And sacrificed to those Gods that would please  
T'inspire the Poet with a song so fit  
To do him honour, 
The continued pierie of Ulysses through all places, times, and occasions.  and renown his wit.  
His tears then stayed. But when again began  
(By all the king's desires) the moving man;  
Again Ulysses, could not choose but yield  
To that soft passion: which again, withheld,  
He kept so cunningly from sight; that none  
(Except Alcinous himself, alone)  
Discerned him moved so much. But he sat next;  
And heard him deeply sigh. Which, his pretext  
Could not keep hid from him. Yet he concealed  
His utterance of it; and would have it held  
From all the rest. Broke off the song, and this  
Said to those Ore-affecting Peers of his:  
Princes, and Peers! we now are satiate  
With sacred song, that fits a feast of state:  
With wine, and food. Now then, to field, and try;  
In all kinds our approved activity;  
That this our Guest, may give his friends to know  
In his return: that we, as little owe  
To fights, and wrestle, leaping, speed of race,  
As these our Court-rites; and commend our grace  
In all, to all superior. Forth he led  
The Peers and people, trouped up to their head:  
Nor must Demodocus be left within;  
Whose harp, the Herald hung upon the pin;  
His hand, in his took; and abroad he brought  
The heavenly Poet: out, the same way wrought  
That did the Princes: and what they would see  
With admiration, with his company  
They wished to honour. To the place of Game  
These thronged; and after, routs of other came,  
Of all sort, infinite. Of Youths that strove,  
Many, 
Since the Phaeacians were not only dwellers by sea, bu● studious also of sea qualities: their names se●me to usurp their faculties therein.  and strong, rose to their trials love.  
Up rose Acroneus, and Ocyalus;  
Elatreus, Prymneus, and Anchyalus;  
Nauteus, Eretmeus, Thou, Proreus;  
Pontaeus, and the strong Amphialus,  
Son to Tectonides, Polinius.  
Up rose to these, 
All consisting of seafaring signification, except Laodamas.  the great Euryalus;  
In action like the homicide of war.  
Naubolides, that was for person far  
Past all the rest: 
As Acroneus, summa seu extrema Navis pars. Ocyalus velox in mari● Elatreus, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Remex. etc.  but one he could not pass;  
Nor any thought improve; Laodamas.  
Up Anabesinzus then arose;  
And three sons of the Sceptre state, and those;  
Were Halius, and fore-praisde Laodamas;  
And Clytonaeus, like a God in grace.  
These first the foote-game tried; and from the lists  
Took start together. Up the dust, in mists  
They hurled about; as in their speed, they flew;  
But Clytonaeus, first, of all the crew  
A Stiches length in any fallow field  
Made good his pace; when where the judges yield  
The prize, and praise, his glorious speed arrived.  
Next, for the boisterous wrestling Game they strived;  
At which, Euryalus, the rest outshone.  
At leap, Amphialus. At the hollow stone  
Elatreus excelled. At buffets, last,  
Laodamas, the kings fair son surpassed.  
When all had strived in these assays their fill;  
Laodamas said; Come friends; let's prove what skill  
This Stranger hath attained to, in our sport;  
Methinks, he must be of the active sort.  
His calves, thighs, hands, and well-knit shoulders show,  
That Nature disposition did bestow  
To fit with fact their form. Nor wants he prime.  
But sour Affliction, made a mate with Time,  
Makes Time the more seen. Nor imagine I,  
A worse thing to enforce debility,  
Then is the Sea: though nature ne'er so strong  
Knits one together. Nor conceive you wrong,  
(Replied Eu●yalus) but prove his blood  
With ●hat you question. In the midst than stood  
Renowned Laodamas, and proved him thus;  
Come (stranger Father) and assay with us  
Your powers in these contentions: 
Laodamas urgeth Ulysses to their sports.  If your show  
Be answered with your worth, 'tis fit that you  
Should know these conflicts: nor doth glory stand  
On any worth more, in a man's command,  
Then to be strenuous, both of foot and hand:  
Come then, make proof with us; discharge your mind  
Of discontentments: 
The word is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifying: deductio: qua transue●endum curamus ●um q●i nobiscum aliquandiu est versatus.  for not far behind  
Comes your deduction. Ship is ready now;  
And men, and all things. Why (said he) dost thou  
Mock me Laodamas! and these strifes bind  
My powers to answer? I am more inclined  
To cares, than conflict. Much sustained I have;  
And still am suffering. I come here to crave  
In your assemblies, means to be dismissed,  
And pray, both Kings, and subjects to assist.  
Euryalus, an open brawl began;  
And said: I take you Sir, 
Euryalu● upbraids Ulysses,  for no such man  
As fits these honoured strifes. A number more  
Strange men there are, that I would choose before.  
To one that loves to lie a shipboard much;  
Or is the Prince of sailours; or to such  
As traffic far and near, and nothing mind  
But freight, and passage, and a foreright wind;  
Or to a victler of a ship: or men  
That set up all their powers for rampant Gain, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   
I can compare, or hold you like to be:  
But, for a wrestler, or of quality  
Fit for contentions noble; you abhor  
From worth of any such competitor.  
Ulysses (frowning) answered; 
Ulysses' angry.  Stranger! far  
Thy words are from the fashions regular  
Of kind, or honour. Thou art in thy guise  
Like to a man, that author's injuries.  
I see, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Damnorum magnorum auctor.  the Gods to all men, give not all  
Manly addiction; wisdom; words that fall  
(Like dice) upon the square still. Some man takes  
Ill form from parents; but God often makes  
That fault of form up, with observed repair  
Of pleasing speech: that makes him held for fair;  
That makes him speak securely: makes him shine  
In an assembly, with a grace di●ine.  
Men take delight, to see how evenly lie  
His words asteepe, in honey modesty.  
Another then, hath fashion like a God;  
But in his language, he is foul, and broad:  
And such art thou. A person fair is given;  
But nothing else is in thee, sent from heaven.  
For in thee lurks, a base, and earthy soul  
And thou'st compelled me, with a speech most foul  
To be thus bitter. I am not unseen  
In these fair strifes, as thy words overween:  
But in the first rank of the best I stand.  
At least, I did, when youth and strength of hand  
Made me thus confident: but now am worn  
With woes, and labours; as a human borne  
To bear all anguish. Suffered much I have.  
The war of men, and the inhuman wave  
Have I driven through at all parts: but with all  
My waste in sufferance: what yet may fall  
In my performance, at these strifes I'll try;  
Thy speech hath moved, and made my wrath run high.  
This said; with rob, and all, he grasped a stone,  
A little graver than was ever thrown  
By these Phaeacians, in their wrestling rout;  
More firm, more massy; which (turned round about)  
He hurried from him, with a hand so strong  
It sung, and flew: and over all the throng  
(That at the others marks stood) quite it went:  
Yet down fell all beneath it; fearing spent  
The force that drove it flying from his hand,  
As it a dart were, or a walking wand.  
And, far past all the marks of all the rest  
His wing stole way. When Pallas strait impressed  
A mark at fall of it; resembling then  
One of the navy-given Phaeacian men;  
And thus advanced Ulysses: One, (though blind)  
(O stranger!) groping, may thy stones fall find;  
For not amidst the rout of marks it fell,  
But far before all. Of thy worth, think well;  
And stand in all strifes: no Phaeacian here,  
This bound, can either better or come near.  
Ulysses' joyed, to hear that one man yet  
V●de him benignly; and would Truth abet  
In those contentions. And then, thus smooth  
He took his speech down: Reach me that now Youth,  
You shall (and strait I think) have one such more;  
And one beyond it too. And now, whose Core  
Stands sound, and great within him (since ye have  
Thus put my spleen up) come again and brave  
The Guest ye tempted, with such gross disgrace:  
At wrestling, buffets, whirlbat, speed of race.  
At all, or either, I except at none,  
But urge the whole State of you; only one  
I will not challenge, in my forced boast,  
And that's Laodamas; for he's mine Host. 
He names Laodamas only for all the other brothers; since in his exception, the others envies were curbed: for brother● either are or should be of one acceptation in all fit things.   
And who will fight, or wrangle with his friend?  
Unwise he is, and base, that will contend  
With him that feeds him, in a foreign place;  
And takes all edge off, from his own sought grace.  
None else except I here; nor none despise;  
But wish to know, and prove his faculties,  
That dares appear now. No strife ye can name  
Am I unskilld in; 
And Laodamas, he calls his host, being elder son to Alcinous: the heir being ever the young master; nor might he conveniently prefer Alcinous in his exception, since he stood not in competition at these contentions.  (reckon any game  
Of all that are, as many as there are  
In use with men) for Archery I dare  
Affirm myself not mean. Of all a troop  
I'll make the first foe with mine arrow stoop;  
Though, with me ne'er so many fellows bend  
Their bows at marked men, and affect their end;  
Only was Philocte●es with his bow  
Still my superior; when we Greekes would show  
Our Archery against our foes of Troy:  
But all that now by bread, frail life enjoy,  
I far hold my inferiors. Men of old  
None now alive, shall witness me so bold  
To vaunt equality with such men as these;  
O●chalian, Euritus, Hercules;  
Who with their bows, durst with the Gods contend.  
And therefore caught Eurytus soon his end.  
Nor did at home, 
Apollo.  in age, a reverend man;  
But by the Great incensed Delphian  
Was shot to death, for daring competence  
With him, in all an Archers excellence.  
A Spear I'll hurl as far, as any man  
Shall shoot a shaft. How at a race I can  
Bestir my feet; I only yield to Fear,  
And doubt to meet with my superior here.  
So many seas, so too much have misused  
My limbs for race; and therefore have diffused  
A dissolution through my loved knees.  
This said, 
The ingen●ous and royal speech of Alcinous to Ulysses.  he stilled all talking properties;  
Alcinous only answered: O my Guest  
In good part take we, what you have been priest  
With speech to answer. You would make appear  
Your virtues therefore, that will still shine where  
Your only look is. Yet must this man give  
Your worth ill language; when, he does not live  
In sort of mortals (whence so ere he springs  
That judgement hath to speak becoming things)  
That will deprave your virtues. Note then now  
My speech, and what, my love presents to you;  
That you may tell Heroes, when you come  
To banquet with your Wife, and Birth at home,  
(Mindful of our worth) what deservings jove  
Hath put on our parts likewise; in remove  
From Sire to Son, as an inherent grace  
Kind, and perpetual. We must needs give place  
To other Countrymen; and freely yield  
We are not blameless, in our fights of field;  
Buffets, nor wrestle: but in speed of feet;  
And all the Equipage that fits a fleet,  
We boast us best. For table ever spread  
With neighbour feasts, for garments varied;  
For Poesy, Music, Dancing, Baths, and Beds.  
And now, Phaeacians, you that bear your heads  
And feet with best grace, in enamouring dance;  
Inflame our guest here; that he may advance  
Our worth past all the worlds, to his home friends;  
As well for the unmatched grace, that commends  
Your skills in footing of a dance; as theirs  
That fly a race best. And so, all affairs,  
At which we boast us best; he best may try;  
As Sea-race, Land-race, Dance, and Poesy.  
Some one, with instant speed to Court retire,  
And fetch Demodocus, his soundfull lyre.  
This said, the God-graced king, and quick resort  
Pontonous made, for that fair harp, to Court.  
Nine of the lot-chusde public Rulers rose,  
That all in those contentions did dispose;  
Commanding a most smooth ground, and a wide,  
And all the people, in fair game, aside.  
Then with the rich harp, came Pontonous;  
And in the midst, took place Demodocus.  
About him than stood forth, the choice young men, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifies splendour vibrant; a twinckd splendour: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Vibrare vel●ti radios solares.   
That on man's first youth, made fresh entry then:  
Had Art to make their natural motion sweet  
And shook a most divine dance from their feet;  
That twinckld Starlike; moved as swift, and fine,  
And beat the air so thin, they made it shine.  
Ulysses' wondered at it; but amazed  
He stood in mind, 
Air rar●fied turns first.  to hear the dance so phrased.  
For, as they danced; Demodocus did sing,  
The bright-crownd Venus' love, with battles king;  
As first they closely mixed, in t'house of fire.  
What worlds of gifts, won her to his desire;  
Who then, the night-and-day-bed did defile  
Of good king Vulcan. But in little while  
The Sun their mixture saw; and came, and told.  
The bitter news, did by his ●ares take hold  
Of Vulcan's heart. Then to his Forge he went;  
And in his shrewd mind, deep stuff did invent.  
His mighty anvil, in the stock he put;  
And forged a net, that none could lose, or cut;  
That when it had them, it might hold them fast.  
Which, having finished, he made utmost haste  
Up to the dear room, where his wife he wowd:  
And (madly wrath with Mars) he all bestrowd  
The bed, and bed posts: all the beam above  
That crossed the chamber; 
The matter whereof none can see.  and a circle strove,  
Of his device, to wrap in all the room.  
And 'twas as pure, as of a Spider's joome,  
The woof before 'tis woven. No man nor God  
Could set his eye on it: a sleight so odd,  
His Art showed in it. All his craft besprent  
About the bed: 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 . he feigned, as if he went  
To well-built Lemnos; his most loved town,  
Of all towns earthly. Nor left this unknown  
To golden-bridle-using Mars; who kept  
No blind watch over him: but, seeing stepped  
His rival so aside, he hasted home  
With faire-wreathed Venus' love stung; who was come  
New from the Court of her most mighty Sire.  
Mars entered; wrung her hand; and the retire  
Her husband made to Lemnos told; and said;  
Now (Love) is Vulcan gone; let us to bed,  
he's for the barbarous Sintians. Well apaid  
Was Venus with it; and afresh assayed  
Their old encounter. Down they went; and strait  
About them clinged, the artificial sleight  
Of most wise Vulcan; and were so ensnared,  
That neither they could stir their course prepared,  
In any limb about them; nor arise.  
And then they knew, they could no more disguise  
Their close conveyance; but lay, forced, stone still.  
Back rushed the Both foot cooked; but strait in skill,  
From his near skout-hole turned; nor ever w●nt  
To any Lemnos; but the sure event  
Left Phoebus to discover, who told all.  
Then, home hoped Vulcan, full of grief, and gall;  
Stood in the portal, and cried out so high;  
That all the Gods heard. Father of the sky  
And every other deathless God (said he)  
Come all, 
Vulcan's complaint.  and a ridiculous object see;  
And yet not sufferable neither; Come,  
And witness, how when still I step from home,  
(Lame that I am) Ioues daughter doth profess  
To do me all the shameful offices;  
Indignities, despites, that can be thought;  
And loves this all-things-making-come to nought  
Since he is fair forsooth; foote-sound, and I  
took in my brain a little; legged awry;  
And no fault mine; but all my parent's fault,  
Who should not get, if mock me, with my halt.  
But see how fast they sleep, while I, in moan,  
Am only made, an idle looker on.  
One bed their turn serves; and it must be mine;  
I think yet, I have made their self-loves shine.  
They shall no more wrong me, and none perceive:  
Nor will they sleep together, I believe  
With too hot haste again. Thus both shall lie  
In craft, and force; till the extremity  
Of all the dower, I gave her Sire (to gain  
A dogged set-faced Girl, that will not stain  
Her face with blushing, though she shame her head)  
He pays me back: She's fair, but was no maid.  
While this long speech was making, all were come  
To Vulcan's wholie-brazen-founded home.  
Earth-shaking Neptune; useful Mercury,  
And far-shot Phoebus. No She Deity  
For shame, would show there: all the give-good Gods  
stood in the portal; and past periods  
Gave length to laughters; all rejoiced to see  
That which they said; that no impiety  
Finds good success at th'end. And now (said one)  
The slow outgoes the swift. Lame Vulcan, known  
To be the slowest of the Gods; outgoes  
Mars the most swift; And this is that, which grows  
To greatest justice; that Adulteries sport  
Obtained by craft, by craft of other sort,  
(And lame craft too) is plagued, which grieves the more,  
That sound limbs turning lame; the lame, 
* Intending them sound of foot; when they outgo the soundest.  restore.  
This speech amongst themselves they entertained  
When Phoebus, thus asked Hermes: Thus enchained  
Wouldst thou be Hermes, to be thus disclosed?  
Though, with thee, golden Venus were repos'de?  
He soon gave that an answer: O (said he  
Thou king of Archers) would 'twere thus with me.  
Though thrice so much shame; nay, though infinite  
Were powered about me; and that every light  
In great heaven shining, witnessed all my harms,  
So golden Venus slumberd in mine Arms.  
The Gods again laughed; even the watery state  
Wrung out a laughter: But propitiate  
Was still for Mars, and prayed the God of fire  
He would dissolve him; offering the desire  
He made to jove, to pay himself; and said,  
All due debts, should be, by the Gods repaid.  
Pay me, no words (said he) where deeds lend pain;  
Wretched the words are, given for wretched men.  
How shall I bind you in th'Immortals sighed  
If Mars be once loosed; nor will pay his right?  
Vulcan (said he) if Mars should fly, 
This is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. etc. parva mag●e dicere▪ grave sentence out of lightest vapour.  nor see  
Thy right repaid, it should be paid by me:  
Your word, so given, I must accept (said he)  
Which said; he loosed them: Mars then rushed from sky  
And stooped cold Thrace. The laughing Deity  
For Cyprus was, and took her Paphian state  
Where, She a Grove, ne'er cut, hath consecrate:  
All with Arabian odours fumed; and hath  
An Altar there, at which the Graces bathe,  
And with immortal Balms besmooth her skin;  
Fit for the bliss, Immortals solace in;  
Decked her in to-be-studied attire,  
And apt to set beholders hearts on fire.  
This sung the sacred Muse, whose notes and words  
The dancers feet kept; as his hands his cords.  
Ulysses, much was pleased, and all the crew:  
This would the king have varied with a new  
And pleasing measure; and performed by  
Two, with whom none would strive in dancerie.  
And those, his sons were; that must therefore dance  
Alone; and only to the harp advance,  
Without the words; And this sweet couple, was  
Young Halius, and divine Laodamas:  
Who danced a Ball dance. Then the rich-wrought Ball,  
(That Polybus had made, of purple all)  
They took to hand: one threw it to the sky,  
And then danced back; the other (capering high)  
Would surely catch it, ere his foot touched ground;  
And up again advanced it; and so found  
The other, cause of dance; and then did he  
Dance lofty tricks; till next it came to be  
His turn to catch; and serve the other still.  
When they had kept it up to either's will;  
They than danced ground tricks; oft mixed hand in hand;  
And did so gracefully their change command;  
That all the other Youth that stood at pause,  
With deafening shouts, gave them the great applause.  
Then said Ulysses; O past all men here  
Clear, 
Ulysses' to Alcinous.  not in power, but in desert as clear,  
You said your dancers, did the world surpass;  
And they perform it, clear, and to amaze.  
This won Alcinous heart; and equal prize  
He gave Ulysses; saying; Matchless wise  
(Princes, and Rulers) I perceive our guest;  
And therefore let our hospitable best  
In fitting gifts be given him: twelve chief kings  
There are that order all the glorious things  
Of this our kingdom; and the thirteenth, I  
Exist, as Crown to all: let instantly  
Be thirteen garments given him: and, of gold  
Precious, and fine, a Talon. While we hold  
This our assembly; be all fetched, and given;  
That to our feast prepared, as to his heaven  
One guest may enter. And that nothing be  
Left unperformd, that fits his dignity;  
Euryalus shall here conciliate  
Himself, with words and gifts; since past our rate  
He gave bad language. This did all commend  
And give in charge; and every king did send  
His Herald for his gift. Euryalus▪  
(Answering for his part) said; Alcinous!  
Our chief of all; since you command, I will  
To this our guest, by all means reconcile;  
And give him this entirely metaled sword:  
The handle massy silver; and the board  
That gives it cover, all of Ivory,  
New, and in all kinds, worth his quality.  
This put he straight into his hand, and said:  
Frolick●, O Guest and Father; if words, fled,  
Have been offensive; let swift whirlwinds take,  
And ravish them from thought. May all Gods make  
Thy wife's sight good to thee; in quick retreat  
To all thy friend's, and best-loved breeding seat;  
Their long miss quitting with the greater joy;  
In whose sweet, vanish all thy worst annoy.  
And frolic thou, to all height, Friend (said he)  
Which heaven confirm, with wished felicity.  
Nor ever give again desire to thee,  
Of this swords use, which with affects so free,  
In my reclaim, thou hast bestowed on me.  
This said; athwart his shoulders he put on  
The right fair sword; and then did set the Sun.  
When all the gifts were brought; which back again  
(With King Alcinous, in all the train)  
Were by the honoured Heralds borne to Court;  
Which his fair sons took; and from the resort  
Laid by their reverend Mother. Each his throne  
Of all the Peers (which yet were overshone  
In King Alcinous command) ascended:  
Whom he, to pass as much in gifts contended;  
And to his Queen, said: Wife! see brought me here  
The fairest Cabinet I have; and there  
Impose a well-cleansd, in, and utter weed;  
A Cauldron heat with water, that with speed  
Our Guest well bathed, and all his gifts made sure,  
It may a joyful appetite procure  
To his succeeding Feast; and make him hear  
The Poet's Hymn, with the securer ear.  
To all which, I will add my bowl of gold,  
In all frame curious, to make him hold  
My memory always dear; and sacrifice  
With it at home, to all the Deities.  
Then Arete, her maids charged to set on  
A well-sized Cauldron quickly. Which was done;  
Clear water poured in, flame made so entire,  
It gilded the brass, and made the water fire.  
In mean space, from her chamber brought the Queen  
A wealthy Cabinet, where (pure and clean)  
She put the garments, and the gold bestowed  
By that free State: and then, the other vowed  
By her Alcinous, and said: Now Guest▪  
Make close and fast your gifts, lest when you rest  
A shipboard sweetly, in your way you meet  
Some loss, that less may make your next sleep sweet.  
This when Ulysses heard; all sure he made;  
Enclosed and bound safe; for the saving trade,  
The Reverend for her wisdom (Circe) had  
In foreyeares taught him. Then the handmaid bade  
His worth to bathing; which rejoiced his heart.  
For since he did with his Calypso part,  
He had no ●ote baths. None had favoured him;  
Nor been so tender of his kingly limb.  
But all the time he spent in her abode,  
He lived respected, as he were a God.  
Cleansed then and balmd; fair shirt, and rob put on;  
Fresh come from bath, and to the Feasters gone;  
Nausicaa, that from the God's hands took  
The sovereign beauty of her blessed look,  
Stood by a well-carued Column of the room,  
And through her eye, her heart was overcome  
With admiration of the Port impressed  
In his aspect; 
Nausicaa inflamed with Ulysses  and said: God save you Guest!  
Be cheerful, as in all the future state,  
Your home will show you, in your better Fate.  
But yet, even then, let this remembered be,  
Your life's price, I lent, and you owe it me.  
The varied in all counsels gave reply:  
Nausicaa! flower of all this Empery!  
So junos' husband, that the strife for noise  
Makes in the clouds, bless me with strife of joys,  
In the desired day, that my house shall show,  
As I, as I to a Goddess, there shall vow,  
To thy fair hand, that did my Being give;  
Which I'll acknowledge ●uery hour I live.  
This said; Alcinous placed him by his side;  
Then took they feast, and did in parts divide  
The several dishes; filled out wine, and then  
The striu'd-for, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ Poetam cuius hominibus digna est societas.  for his worth, of worthy men,  
And reverenced of the State; Demodocus  
Was brought in by the good Pontonous.  
In midst of all the guests, they gave him place,  
Against a lofty Pillar; when, this grace  
The graced with wisdom did him. From the Chine  
That stood before him of a white-toothed Swine,  
(Being far the daintiest joint) mixed through with fat,  
He carved to him, and sent it where he sat,  
By his old friend, the Herald; willing thus:  
Herald! reach this to grave Demodocus;  
Say, I salute him; and his worth embrace.  
Poets deserve passed all the human race,  
Reverend respect and honour; since the Queen  
Of knowledge, and the supreme worth in men  
(The Muse) informs them; and loves all their race.  
This, reached the Herald to him; who, the grace  
Received encouraged: which, when feast was spent,  
Ulysses amplified to this ascent:  
Demodocus! I must prefer you far,  
Past all your sort; if, or the Muse of war,  
Ioues daughter prompts you; (that the Greeks respects)  
Or if the Sun, that those of Troy affects.  
For I have heard you, since my coming, sing  
The Fate of Greece, to an admired string.  
How much ou● sufferance was; how much we wrought;  
How much the actions rose to, when we fought.  
So lively forming, as you had been there;  
Or to some free relator, lent your ●are.  
Forth then, and sing the wooden horses frame,  
Built by Epeus; by the martial Dame,  
Taught the whole Fabric; which, by force of sleight,  
Ulysses brought into the City's height;  
When he had stuffed it with as many men,  
As leveled lofty Ilium with the Plain.  
With all which, if you can as well enchant,  
A● with expression quick and elegant,  
You sung the rest; I will pronounce you clear,  
Inspired by God, past all that ever were.  
This said; even stirred by God up, he began;  
And to his Song fell, past the form of man;  
Beginning where, the Greeks a shipboard went,  
And every Chief, had set on fire his Tent.  
When th'other Kings, in great Ulysses' guide,  
In Troy's vast market place, the horse did hide:  
From whence, the Troyans', up to Ilium drew  
The dreadful Engine. Where (sat all arow)  
Their Kings about it: many counsels given,  
How to dispose it. In three ways were driven  
Their whole distractions: first, if they should feel  
The hollow woods heart, (searched with piercing steel)  
Or from the battlements (drawn higher yet)  
Deject it headlong; or, that counterfeit,  
So vast and novel, set on sacred fire;  
Vowed to appease each angered Godheads ire.  
On which opinion, they, thereafter, saw,  
They then should have resolved: th'unaltered law  
Of Fate presaging; that Troy then should end,  
When th'hostile horse, she should receive to friend;  
For therein should the Grecian Kings lie hid,  
To bring the Fate and death, they after did.  
He sung beside, the Greeks eruption  
From those their hollow crafts; and horse foregone;  
And how they made Depopulation tread  
Beneath her feet, so high a City's head.  
In which affair, he sung in other place,  
That of that ambush, some man else did race  
The Ilium Towers, than 
* Ulysses.  Laertiades;  
But here he 
* As by the divine fury directly inspired so, for Ulysses' glory.  sung, that he alone did seize  
(With Menelaus) the ascended roof  
Of Prince Deiphobus; and Mars- like proof  
Made of his valour: a most dreadful fight,  
Daring against him. And there vanquished quite,  
In little time (by great Minerva's aid)  
All Ilion's remnant, and Troy level laid.  
This the divine Expressor, did so give  
Both act and passion, that he made it live;  
And to Ulysses' facts did breath a fire,  
So 
* In that the slaughters he made were expressed so lively.  deadly quickening, that it did inspire  
Old death with life; and rendered life so sweet,  
And passionate, that all there felt it fleet;  
Which made him pity his own cruelty,  
And put into that ruth, so pure an ●ie  
Of human frailty; that to see a man  
Could so revive from Death; yet no way can  
Defend from death; his own quick powers it made  
Feel there deaths horrors: and he felt life fade  
In 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Metaph. signifying, consumo, tabes●o.  tears, his feeling brain sweat: for in things  
That move past utterance, tears open all their springs.  
Nor are there in the Powers, that all life bears,  
More true interpreters of all, than tears.  
And as a Lady mourns her sole-loued Lord, 
Simile.   
That fallen before his City, by the sword,  
Fight to rescue from a cruel Fate,  
His town and children; and, in dead estate  
Yet panting, seeing him; wraps him in her arms,  
Weeps, shrieks, and powers her health into his arms;  
Lies on him, striving to become his shield  
From foes that still assail him; spears impelled  
Through back and shoulders; by whose points imbrued,  
They raise and lead him into servitude,  
Labour and languor: for all which, the Dame  
Eats down her cheeks with tears, and feeds life's flame  
With miserable sufferanc: So this King,  
Of teare-swet anguish, oped a boundless spring:  
Nor yet was seen to any one man there,  
But King Alcinous, who sat so near,  
He could not scape him: sighs (so choked) so broke  
From all his tempers, which the King d●d take  
Both note, and grave respect of, and thus spoke:  
Hear me, Phaeacian Counsellors and Peers;  
And cease, Demodocus; perhaps all ears  
Are not delighted with his song; for, ever  
Since the divine Muse sung, our Guest hath never  
Contained from secret mournings. It may fall,  
That something sung, he hath been grieved withal,  
As touching his particular. Forbear;  
That Feast may jointly comfort all hearts here;  
And we may cheer our Guest up; 'tis our best,  
In all due honour. For our reverend Guest,  
Is all our celebration, gifts, and all,  
His love hath added to our Festival.  
A Guest, and suppliant too; we should esteem  
Dear as our brother; one that doth but dream  
He hath a soul; or touch but at a mind  
Deathless and manly; should stand so inclined.  
Nor cloak you, longer, with your curious wit,  
(Loved Guest) what ever we shall ask of it.  
It now stands on your honest state to tell;  
And therefore give your name; nor more conceal,  
What of your parents, and the Town that bears  
Name of your native; or of foreigners  
That near us border, you are called in fame.  
There's no man living, walks without a name;  
Noble nor base; but had one from his birth;  
Imposed as fit, as to be borne. What earth,  
People, and city, own you? Give to know:  
Tell but our ships all, that your way must show;  
For our 
* This 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or affirmation of miracles, how impossible soever in these times assured, yet in those ages they were neither absurd nor strange. Those inanimate things having (it seemed certain 〈◊〉, in whose powers, they supposed, their ships faculties. As others have affirmed Okes to have sense of hearing: and so the ship of Argos was said to have a Mast made of D●don●an Oak, that was vocal, and co●l● speak.  ships know th'expressed minds of men;  
And will so most intentively retain  
Their scopes appointed, that they never err●;  
And yet use never any man to steer:  
Nor any Rudders have, as others need.  
They know men's thoughts; and whither tends their speed.  
And there will set them. For you cannot name  
A City to them; nor fat Soil, that Fame  
Hath any notice given; but well they know,  
And will fly to them, though they ebb and flow,  
In blackest clouds and nights; and never bear  
Of any wrack or rock, the slenderest fear.  
But this I heard my Sire Nausithous say  
Long since, that Neptune seeing us convey  
So safely passengers of all degrees,  
Was angry with us; and upon our seas,  
A well-built ship we had (near habor come,  
From safe deduction of some stranger home)  
Made in his flitting billows, stick stone still;  
And dimmed our City, like a mighty hill,  
With shade cast round about it. This report,  
The old 
* Intending his father Nausithous.  King made; in which miraculous sort,  
If God had done such things, or left undone;  
At his good pleasure be it. But now, on,  
And truth relate us; both whence you erred;  
And to what Clime of men would be transferrd;  
With all their fair Towns; be they, as they are;  
If rude, unjust, and all irregular;  
Or hospitable, bearing minds that please  
The mighty Deity. Which one of these  
You would be set at, say; and you are there;  
And therefore what afflicts you? why, to hear  
The Fate of Greece and Ilium, mourn you so?  
The Gods have done it; as to all, they do  
Destiny destruction; that from thence may rise  
A Poem to instruct posterities.  
Fell any kinsman before Ilium?  
Some worthy Sire-in-law, or like-neare son?  
Whom next our own blood, and selfe-race we love?  
Or any friend perhaps, in whom did move  
A knowing soul, and no unpleasing thing?  
Since such a good one, is no underling  
To any brother: for, what fits true friends,  
True wisedom● is, 
True wisdom fits true friends.  that blood and birth transcends.  
Finis libri octavi Hom. Odyss.   

THE NINTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Ulysses here, is first made known;  
Who tells the stern contention,  
His powers did 'gainst the Cicons try;  
And thence to the Lotophagie  
Extends his conquest: and from them,  
Assays the Cyclops Polypheme;  
And by the crafts, his wits apply,  
He puts him out his only eye.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

The strangely fed  
Lotophagie.  
The Cicons fled.  
The Cyclops eye.    
Ulysses thus resolved the King's demands.  
Alcinous! (in whom this Empire stands)  
You should not of so natural right disherit  
Your princely feast, as take from it the spirit.  
To hear a Poet, that in accent brings  
The God's breasts down; 
He begins where Alcinous commanded Demo●ocus to end.  and breathes them as he 〈◊〉  
Is sweet, and sacred; nor can I conceive,  
In any common weal, what more doth give  
Note of the just and blessed Empery,  
Then to see Comfort universally  
Cheer up the people. When in every roof,  
She gives observers a most human proof  
Of men's contents. To see a neighbour's Feast  
Adorn it through; and thereat, hear the breast  
Of the divine Muse; men in order set;  
A 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  wine-page waiting. Tables crowned with meat;  
Set close to guests, that are to use it skilled;  
The Cupboards furnished; and the cups still filled.  
This shows (to my mind) most humanly fair.  
Nor should you, for me, still the heavenly air,  
That stirred my soul so; for I love such tears,  
As fall from fit notes; beaten through mine ears,  
With repetitions of what heaven hath done;  
And break from hearty apprehension  
Of God and goodness, though they show my ill.  
And therefore doth my mind excite me still,  
To tell my bleeding moan; but much more now,  
To serve your pleasure; that, to overflow  
My tears with such cause, may by sighs be driven;  
Though ne'er so much plagued, I may seem by heaven.  
And now my name; which, way shall lead to all  
My miseries after: that their sounds may fall  
Through your ears also; and show (having fled  
So much affliction) first, who rests his head  
In your embraces; when (so far from home)  
I knew not where t'obtain it resting room.  
I am Ulysses Laertiades;  
The fear of all the world for policies;  
For which, my facts as high as heaven resound.  
I dwell in Ithaca, Earth's most renowned:  
All overshadowed with the 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. quatientem seu agitantem frondes.  Shake-leafe hill  
Tree-famed Neritus; whose near confines fill  
islands a number, well inhabited,  
That under my observance taste their bread.  
Dulichius, Samos, and the-full-of- 
* quaedam quibus corp●s ali●ur & vita sustentatur 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 appellantur.  food  
Zacynthus, likewise graced with store of wood.  
But Ithaca, (though in the seas it lie)  
Yet lies she so aloft, she casts her eye  
Quite over all the neighbour Continent.  
far▪ Norward situate; and (being lent  
But little favour of the Morn, and Sun)  
With barren rocks and cliffs is overrun.  
And yet of hardy youths, a Nurse of Name.  
〈◊〉 could I see a Soil, where ere I came,  
More sweet and wishful. Yet, from hence was I  
Withheld with horror, by the Deity  
Divine Calypso, in her cavie house;  
Inflamed to make me her sole Lord and Spouse.  
Circe Aeaea too, (that knowing Dame,  
Whose veins, the like affections did inflame)  
Detained me likewise. But to neither's love,  
Could I be tempted; which doth well approve;  
Nothing so sweet is as our country's earth, 
Amor patriae.   
And joy of those, from whom we claim our birth.  
Though roofs far richer, we far off possess,  
Yet (from our native) all our more, is less.  
To which, as I contended, I will tell  
The much-distrest-conferring-facts, that fell  
By Io●es divine prevention; since I set,  
From ruin'd Troy, my first foot in retreat.  
From Ilium, ill winds cast me on the Coast  
The Cicons hold; where I employed mine host  
For Ismarus, a City, built just by  
My place of landing; of which, Victory  
Made me expugner. I depeopled it,  
Slew all the men, and did their wives remit,  
With much spoil taken; which we did divide,  
That none might need his part. I then applied  
All sp●ed for flight: but my command therein,  
(Fools that they were) could no observance win  
Of many soldiers, who with spoil fed high,  
Would yet fill higher; and excessively  
Fell to their wine; gave slaughter on the shore,  
Cloven-footed beeves and sheep, in mighty store.  
In mean space, Cicons did to Cicons cry;  
When, of their nearest dwellers, instantly  
Many and better soldiers made strong head,  
That held the Continent, and managed  
Their horse with high skill: on which they would fight,  
When fittest cause served; and again alight,  
(With soon seen vantage) and on foot contend.  
Their concourse swift was, and had never end;  
As thick and sudden 'twas, as flowers and leaves  
Dark Spring discovers, when she 
* After Night, in the first of the Morning.  Light receives.  
And then began the bitter Fate of jove  
To alter us unhappy; which, even strove  
To give us sufferance. At our Fleet we made  
Enforced stand; and there did they invade  
Our thrust-up Forces: darts encountered darts,  
With blows on both sides: either making parts  
Good upon either, while the Morning shone,  
And sacred Day her bright increase held on;  
Though much outmatcht in number. But as soon  
As Phoebus Westward fell, the Cicons won  
Much hand of us; six proved soldiers fell  
(Of every ship) the rest they did compel  
To seek of Flight escape from Death and Fate.  
Thence (sad in heart) we sailed: and yet our State  
Was something cheered; that (being ouer-matcht so much  
In violent number) our retreat was such,  
As saved so many▪ Our dear loss the less,  
That they survived; so like for like success.  
Yet left we not the Coast, before we called  
Home to our country earth, the souls exhaled,  
Of all the friends, the Cicons overcame.  
Thrice called we on them, 
The ancient custom of calling ●ome the dead.  by their several name,  
And then took leave. Then from the angry North,  
Cloud-gathering jove, a dreadful storm called forth  
Against our Navy; covered shore and all,  
With gloomy vapours. Night did headlong fall  
From frowning Heaven. And then hurled here and there  
Was all our Navy; the rude winds did tear,  
In three, in four parts, all their sails; and down  
Driven under hatches were we, priest to drown.  
Up rushed we yet again; and with tough hand  
(Two days, two nights entoild) we got near land;  
Labours and sorrows, eating up our minds.  
The third clear day yet, to more friendly winds  
We masts advanced, we white sails spread, and sat.  
Forewinds, and guides, again did iterate,  
Our ease and home-hopes; which we clear had reached;  
Had not, by chance, a sudden North-wind fetched,  
With an extreme sea, quite about again,  
Our whole endeavours; and our course constrain  
To giddy round; and with our bowed sails greet  
Dreadful Maleia; calling back our fleets,  
As far forth as Cythaera. Nine days more,  
Adverse winds tossed me; and the tenth, the shore,  
Where dwell the blossome-fed Lotophagie,  
I fetched▪ fresh water took in; instantly  
Fell to our food aship-boord; and then sent  
Two of my choice men to the Continent,  
(Adding a third, a Herald) to discover,  
What sort of people were the Rulers over  
The land next to us. Where, 
The Lotophagie.  the first they met,  
Were the Lotophagie▪ that made them eat  
Their Country diet; and no ill intent,  
Hid in their hearts to them: and yet th'event,  
To ill converted it; for, having eat  
Their dainty viands; they did quite forget  
(As all men else, that did but taste their feast)  
Both countrymen and country; nor addressed  
Any return, t'inform what sort of men  
Made fixed abode there; but would needs maintain,  
Abode themselves there; and eat that food ever.  
I made out after; and was fain to sever  
Th'enchanted knot; by forcing their retreat;  
That strived, and wept, and would not leave their meat  
For heaven itself. But, dragging them to fleet;  
I wrapped in sure bands, both their hands and feet,  
And cast them under hatches; and away  
Commanded all the rest, without least stay;  
Lest they should taste the Lote too; and forget  
With such strange raptures, their despised retreat.  
All then aboard, we beat the sea with Oars;  
And still with sad hearts sailed by outweigh shores;  
Till th'outlawed Cyclops land we fetched; a race  
Of proud-liued loiterers, 
The idle Cyclops.  that never sow,  
Nor put a plant in earth, nor use a Blow;  
But trust in God for all things; and their earth,  
(Vnsowne, unplowd) gives every offspring birth,  
That other lands have. Wheat, and Ba●ley; Vines  
That bear in goodly Grapes, delicious wines;  
And jove sends showers for all: no counsels there,  
Nor counsellors, nor laws; but all men bear  
Their heads aloft on mountains, and those steep,  
And on their tops too: and there, houses keep  
In vaultie Caves; their households governed all  
By each man's law, imposed in several;  
Nor wife, nor child awed; but as he thinks good.  
None for another caring. But there stood  
Another little Isle, well stored with wood,  
Betwixt this and the entry; neither nie  
The Cyclops I'll, nor yet far off doth lie.  
men's want it suffered; but the men's supplies,  
The Goats made with their inarticulate cries.  
Goats beyond number, this small Island breeds,  
So ●ame, that no access disturbs their feeds.  
No hunters (that the tops of mountains scale,  
And rub through woods with toil) seek them at all.  
Nor is the soil with flocks fed down, nor ploughed;  
Nor ever in it any seed was sowed.  
Nor place the neighbour Cyclops their delights,  
In brave Vermilion prow-deckt ships; nor writes  
Useful and skilful, in such works, as need  
Perfection to those traffics, that exceed  
Their natural confines: to fly out and see  
Cities of men; and take in, mutually  
The press of others; To themselves they live,  
And to their Island, that enough would give  
A good inhabitant; and time of year  
Observe to all things Art could order there.  
There, close upon the sea, sweet meadows spring,  
That yet of fresh streams want no watering  
To their soft burdens: but of special yield,  
Your vines would be there; and your common field,  
But gentle work make for your plough; yet bear  
A lofty harvest when you came to shear.  
For passing fat the ●oile is▪ In it lies  
A harbour so opportune, that no ties,  
Hawsers, or gables need; nor anchors cast.  
Whom storms 
* The descriptions of all these countries, have admirable allegories, besides their artly and pleasing relation.  put in there, are with stay embraced;  
Or to their full wills safe; or winds aspire  
To Pilots uses their more quick desire.  
At entry of the haven, a silver ford  
Is from a rock-impressing fountain poured,  
All set with sable Poplars; and this Port  
Were we arrived at, by the sweet resort  
Of some God guiding us: for 'twas a night  
So ghastly dark, all Port was past our sight,  
Clouds ●id our ships, and would not let the Moon  
Afford a beam to us; the whole I'll won,  
By not an eye of ours. None thought the Blore  
That then was up, should waves against the shore,  
That then to an unmeasured height put on.  
We still at sea esteemed us, till alone  
Our fleet put in itself. And then were struck  
Our gathered sails: our rest ashore we took,  
And day expected. When the Morn gave fire,  
We rose, and walked, and did the I'll admire.  
The Nymphs, Ioues daughters, putting up a heard  
Of mountain Goats to us, to render cheered  
My fellow soldiers. To our Fleet we flew;  
Our crooked bows took, long-piled darts, and drew  
Ourselves in three parts out; when, by the grace  
That God vouchsafed, we made a gainful chase.  
Twelve ships we had, and every ship had nine  
Fat Goats allotted; ten only mine.  
Thus all that day, even till the Sun was set,  
We sat and feasted; pleasant wine and meat,  
Plenteously taking; for we had not spent  
Our ruddy wine aship-boord: supplement  
Of large sort, each man to his vessel drew,  
When we the sacred City overthrew,  
That held the Cicons. Now then saw we near,  
The Cyclops late-praisd Island; and might hear  
The murmur of their sheep and goats; and see  
Their smokes ascend. The Sun then set, and we  
(When Night succeeded) took our rest ashore.  
And when the world the Morning's favour wore,  
I called my friends to council; charging them  
To make stay there, while I took ship and stream,  
With some associates; and explored what men  
The neighbour I'll held: if of rude disdain,  
Churlish and tyrannous, or minds bewrayed  
Pious and hospitable. Thus much said,  
I boarded, and commanded to ascend  
My friends and soldiers, to put off, and lend  
Way to our ship. They boarded, sat, and beat  
The old sea forth, till we might see the seat,  
The greatest Cyclops held for his abode;  
Which was a deep Cave, near the common road  
Of ships that touched there; thick with Laurels spread,  
Where many sheep and goats lay shadowed:  
And near to this, a Hall of torne-up stone,  
High built with Pines, that heaven and earth atone;  
And loftie-fronted Okes: in which kept house,  
A man in shape, immane, and monstruous,  
Fed all his flocks alone; nor would afford  
Commerce with men; but had a wit abhorred;  
His mind, his body answering. Nor was he  
Like any man, that food could possibly  
Enhance so hugely; but (beheld alone)  
Showed like a steep hills top, all overgrown  
With trees and brambles; little thought had I  
Of such vast objects. When, arrived so nigh;  
Some of my loved friends, I made stay aboard,  
To guard my ship; and twelve▪ with me I shored,  
The choice of all. I took beside along,  
A Goatskin flagon of wine, black and strong,  
That Maro did present; Euantheus son,  
And Priest to Phoebus; who had mansion  
In Thracian Ismarus (the Town I took)  
He gave it me; since I (with reverence struck,  
Of his grave place, his wife and children's good)  
Freed all of violence. Amidst a wood  
Sacred to Phoebus, stood his house; from whence  
He fetched me gifts of varied excellence;  
Seven talents of fine gold; a bowl all framed  
Of massy silver. But his gift, most famed,  
Was twelve great vessels, filled with such rich wine,  
As was incorruptible, and divine.  
He kept it as his jewel, which none knew  
But he himself, ●is wife, and he that drew.  
It was so strong, that never any filled  
A cup, where that was but by drops instilld,  
And drunk it off; but 'twas before allayed  
With twenty parts in water; yet so swayed  
The spirit of that little, that the whole,  
A sacred odour breathed about the bowl.  
Had you the odour smelled, 
Vi●um Maroneum memorabile.  and sent it cast,  
It would have vexed you to forbear the taste.  
But then (the taste gained too) the spirit it wrought,  
To dare things high, set up an end my thought.  
Of this, a huge great flagon full I bore,  
And in a good large knapsack, victles store;  
And longed to see this heap of fortitude,  
That so illiterate was, and upland rude,  
That laws divine nor human he had learned.  
With speed we reached the Caverne, nor discerned  
His presence there. His flocks he fed at field.  
Entering his den; each thing beheld, did yield  
Our admiration: shelves with cheeses heaped;  
Sheds stuffed with Lambs and Goats, distinctly kept;  
Distinct the biggest; the more mean distinct;  
Distinct the youngest. And in their precinct  
(Proper and placefull) stood the troughs and pails,  
In which he milked; and what was given a● meals,  
Set up a creaming: in the Evening still,  
All scouring bright, as dew upon the hill.  
Then were my fellows instant to convey  
Kids, cheeses, lambs, aship●boord; and away  
Sail the salt billow. I thought best, not so,  
But better otherwise; and first would know,  
What guest-gifts he would spare me. Little knew  
My friends, on whom they would have prayed: his view  
Proved after, that his inwards were too rough  
For such bold usage: we were bold enough,  
In what I suffered; which was there to stay;  
Make fire and feed there, though bear none away.  
There sat we, till we saw him feeding come,  
And on his neck a burden lugging home,  
Most highly huge of Sere-wood; which the pile  
That fed his fire, supplied all supper while.  
Down by his den he threw it; and up rose  
A tumult with the fall. Afraid, we close  
Withdrew ourselves, while he into a Cave  
Of huge receipt, his high-fed cattle drove,  
All that he milked; the males he left without  
His lofty roofs, that all bestrowd about  
With Rams and buck-goates were. And then a rock  
He lift aloft, that dammed up to his flock,  
The door they entered: 'twas so hard to wield,  
That two and twenty Wagons, all foure-wheeld,  
(Could they be loaded, and have teams that were  
Proportioned to them) could not stir it there.  
Thus, making sure, he kneeled and milked his Ewes,  
And braying Goats, with all a milkers dues.  
Then let in all their young: then, quick did dress,  
His half milk up for cheese, and in a press  
Of wicker priest it; put in bolls the rest,  
To drink, and eat, and serve his supping feast.  
All works dispatched thus; he began his fire;  
Which blown, he saw us; and did thus inquire:  
Ho! Guests! what are ye? whence sail ye these seas?  
Traffic, or rove ye? and like thieves oppress  
Poor strange adventurers; exposing so  
Your souls to danger, and your lives to woe?  
This uttered he; when Fear from our hearts took  
The very life; to be so thunderstruck  
With such a voice, and such a monster see.  
But thus I answered: Er●ing Grecians we,  
From Troy were turning homewards; 
This his relation of Agamemnon, and his glory & theirs for Troy's sack, with the piety of suppliants receipt, to him that was so barbarous and impious, must be intended spoken by Ulysses, with supposition that his hearers would note, still as he spoke; how vain they would show to the Cyclops: who respected little Agamemnon, or their valiant exploit against Troy, or the Gods themselves. For otherwise, the serious observation of the words (though good & grave, if spoken to another) want their intentional sharpness and life.  but by force  
Of adverse winds, in far-diverted course,  
Such unknown ways took, and on rude seas tossed,  
(As jove decreed) are cast upon this Coast.  
Of Agamemnon (famous Atreus son)  
We boast ourselves the soldiers; who hath won  
Renown that reacheth heaven; to overthrow  
So great a City, and to ruin so,  
So many nations. Yet at thy knees lie  
Our prostrate bosoms; forced with prayers to try,  
If any hospitable right, or Boon  
Of other nature, (such as have been won  
By laws of other houses) thou wilt give.  
Reverence the Gods, thou greatest of all that live.  
We suppliants are; and hospitable jove  
Pours wreak on all, whom prayers want power to move:  
And with their plagues, together will provide,  
That humble Guests shall have their wants supplied.  
He cruelly answered: O thou fool (said he)  
To come so far, and to importune me  
With any God's fear, or observed love;  
We Cyclops care not for your Goat-fed jove;  
Nor other Blessed ones; we are better far.  
To jove himself, dare I bid open war;  
To thee, and all thy fellows, if I please.  
But tell me: where's the ship, that by the seas  
Hath brought thee hither? If far off, or near;  
Inform me quickly. These his tempt were.  
But I, too much knew, not to know his mind;  
And craft, with craft paid; telling him the wind  
(Thrust up from Sea, by him that shakes the Shore)  
Had dashed our ships against his rocks, and tore  
Her ribs in pieces, close upon his Coast;  
And we from high wrack saved; the rest were lost.  
He answered nothing; but rushed in, and took  
Two of my fellows up from earth, and struck  
Their brains against it. Like two whelps they flew  
About his shoulders; and did all imbrue  
The blushing earth. No mountain Lion tore  
Two Lambs so sternly; leapt up all their gore,  
Gushed from their torne-up bodies; limb by limb,  
(Trembling with life yet) ravished into him.  
Both flesh and marrow-stuffed bones he eat,  
And even th'uncleansed entrails made his meat.  
We weeping, cast our hands to heaven, to view,  
A sight so horrid. Desperation flew  
With all our after lives, to instant death,  
In our believed destruction. But when breath,  
The fury of his appetite had got,  
Because the gulf his belly, reached his throat;  
Man's flesh, and goats milk, laying lair on lair,  
Till near choked up, was all the pass for air.  
Along his den, amongst his cattle, down  
He rushed, and streaked him. When my mind was grown  
Desperate, to step in; draw my sword, and part  
His bosom, where the strings about the heart  
Circled the Liver, and add strength of hand.  
But that rash thought, More stayed, did countermand;  
For there we all had perished, since it past  
Our powers to lift aside a log so vast,  
As barred all outscape; and so sighed away  
The thought all Night, expecting active Day.  
Which come, he first of all, his fire inflames,  
Then milks his Goats and Ewes; then to their dams  
Le's in their young; and wondrous orderly,  
With manly haste, dispatched his housewifery.  
Then to his Breakfast, to which, other two  
Of my poor friends went: which eat; out then go  
His herds and fat flocks; lightly putting by  
The churlish bar, and closed it instantly;  
For both those works, with ease, as much he did,  
As you would open and shut your Quiver lid.  
With storms of whistlings then, his flocks he drove  
Up to the mountains; and occasion gave  
For me to use my wits; which to their height,  
I strived to screw up; that a vengeance might  
By some means fall from thence; and Pallas now  
Afford a full ear to my neediest vow.  
This then, my thoughts preferred: a huge club lay  
Close by his milk-house, which was now in way  
To dry, and season; being an Olive tree  
Which late he field; and being green, must be  
Made lighter for his manage. 'twas so vast,  
That we resembled it to some fit Mast,  
To serve a ship of burden, that was driven  
With twenty Oars; and had a bigness given,  
To bear a huge sea. Full so thick, so tall  
We judged this club; which I, in part, hewed small,  
And cut a fathom off. The piece I gave  
Amongst my soldiers, to take down, and shave;  
Which done, I sharpened it at top, and then  
(Hardened in fire) I hid it in the den,  
Within a nasty dunghill reeking there,  
Thick, and so moist, it issued every where.  
Then made I lots cast, by my friends to try,  
Whose fortune served to dare the bored out eye  
Of that man-eater: and the lot did fall  
On four I wished to make my aid, of all;  
And I, the fifth made, chosen like the rest.  
Then came the Even; and he came from the feast  
Of his fat cattle; drove in all; nor kept  
One male abroad: if, or his memory slept  
By God's direct will; or of purpose was  
His driving in of all then, doth surpass  
My comprehension. But he closed again  
The mighty bar; milked, and did still maintain  
All other observation, as before.  
His wo●ke, all done; two of my soldiers more,  
At once he snatched up; and to supper went.  
Then dared I words to him, and did present  
A bowl of wine, with these words: Cyclops! take  
A bowl of wine from my hand, that may make  
Way for the man's flesh thou hast eat; and show  
What drink our ship held; which in sacred vow,  
I offer to thee; to take ruth on me  
In my dismission home. Thy rages be  
Now no more sufferable. How shall men  
(Mad and inhuman that thou art) again  
Greet thy abode, and get thy actions grace,  
If thus thou ragest, and eatest up their race.  
He took, and drunk; and vehemently joyed  
To taste the sweet cup; and again employed  
My flagons power; entreating more, and said:  
Good Guest, again afford my taste thy aid;  
And let me know thy name; and quickly now;  
That in thy recompense I may bestow  
A hospitable gift on thy desert;  
And such a one as shall rejoice thy heart;  
For to the Cylops too, the gentle Earth  
Bears generous wine; and jove augments her birth,  
In store of such, with showers. But this rich wine,  
Fell from the river that is mere divine,  
Of Nectar and Ambrosia. This again  
I gave him; and again; nor could the fool abstain,  
But drunk as often. When the noble juice  
Had wrought upon his spirit; I than gave use  
To fairer language; saying: Cylop! now  
As thou demandst, I'll tell thee my name; do thou  
Make good thy hospitable gift to me;  
My name is noman; noman, each degree  
Of friends, as well as parents, call my name.  
He answered, as his cruel soul became:  
noman! I'll eat thee last of all thy friends;  
And this is that, in which so much amends  
I vowed to thy deservings; thus shall be  
My hospitable gift, made good to thee.  
This said; he upwards fell; but then bend round  
His fleshy neck; and Sleep (with all crowns, crowned)  
Subdued the Savage. From his throat broke out  
My wine, with man's flesh gobbets, like a spout;  
When loaded with his cups, he lay and snored.  
And then took I the clubs end up, and gored  
The burning cole-heape, that the point might heat.  
Confirmed my fellows minds, lest Fear should let  
Their vowed assay, and make them fly my aid.  
Straight was the Olive Lever, I had laid  
Amidst the huge fire, to get hardening, hot;  
And glowd extremely, though 'twas green; (which got  
From forth the cinders) close about me stood  
My hardy friends: but that which did the good,  
Was Gods good inspiration, that gave  
A spirit beyond the spirit they used to have:  
Who took the Olive spar, made keen before,  
And plunged it in his eye: and up I bore,  
Bend to the top close; and helped pour it in,  
With all my forces: 
Simile.  And as you have seen  
A shipwright bore a naval beam; he oft  
Thrusts at the Augurs Froofe; works still aloft;  
And at the shank, help others; with a cord  
Wound round about, to make it sooner bored;  
All plying the round still: So into his eye,  
The fiery stake, we laboured to imply.  
Out gushed the blood that scalded; his eyeball  
Thrust out a flaming vapour, that scorched all  
His brows and eyelids; his eyestrings did crack,  
As in, the sharp and burning rafter broke.  
And as a Smith to harden any tool, 
Simile.   
(Broad Axe, or mattock) in his Trough doth cool  
The red-hot substance, that so fervent is,  
It makes the cold wave straight to seeth and hiss:  
So sod, and hizd his eye about the stake.  
He roared withal; and all his Caverne broke  
In claps like thunder. We, did frighted fly,  
Dispersed in corners. He from forth his eye,  
The fixed stake plucked: after which, the blood  
Flowed freshly forth; and, mad, he hurled the wood  
About his hovel. Out he then did cry  
For other Cyclops, that in Caverns by,  
Upon a windy Promontory dwelled;  
Who hearing how impetuously he yelld,  
Rushed every way about him; and inquired,  
What ill afflicted him, that he expired  
Such horrid clamours; and in sacred Night,  
To break their sleeps so? Asked him, if his fright  
Came from some mortal, that his flocks had driven?  
Or if by craft, or might, his death were given?  
He answered from his den; By craft, nor might,  
No man hath given me death. They then said right;  
If no man hurt thee, and thyself alone;  
That which is done to thee, by jove is done.  
And what great jove inflicts, no man can fly;  
Pray to thy Father yet, 
* Neptune.  a Deity;  
And prove, from him, if thou canst help acquire.  
Thus spoke they, leaving him. When all on fire,  
My heart with joy was; that so well my wit,  
And name deceived him; whom now pain did split;  
And groaning up and down, he groping tried,  
To find the stone, which found, he put aside;  
But in the door sat, feeling if he could  
(As his sheep issued) on some man lay hold;  
Esteeming me a fool, that could devise  
No stratagem to scape his gross surprise.  
But I, contending what I could invent,  
My friends and me, from death so imminent,  
To get delivered: all my wiles I wove,  
(Life being the subject) and did this approve;  
Fat fleecy Rams, most fair, and great, lay there,  
That did a 
* Wool of a violet colour.  burden like a Violet bear.  
These (while this learned in villainy did sleep)  
I yoked with Osiers cut there, sheep to sheep;  
Three in a rank; and still the mid sheep bore  
A man about his belly: the two more,  
Marched on his each side for defence. I then,  
Choosing myself the fairest of the den,  
His fleecy belly under-crept; embraced  
His back, and in his rich wool wrapped me fast  
With both my hands, armed with as fast a mind.  
And thus each man hung, till the Morning shined;  
Which come, he knew the hour, and let abroad  
His male-flocks first: the females, unmilkt stood  
Bleating and braying; their full bags so sore,  
With being unemptied; but their shepherd more,  
With being unsighted; which was cause, his mind  
Went not a milking. He (to wreak inclined)  
The backs felt as they passed, of those male dams:  
(Gross fool) believing, we would ride his Rams.  
Nor ever knew, that any of them bore  
Upon his belly, any man before.  
The last Ram came to pass him, with his wool,  
And me together, loaded to the full:  
For there did I hang: and that Ram he stayed;  
And me withal had in his hands; my head  
Troubled the while, not causelessly, nor least.  
This Ram he groped, and talked to: Lazy beast!  
Why last art thou now? thou hast never used  
To lag thus hindmost: but still first hast bruised  
The tender blossom of a flower; and held  
State in thy steps, both to the flood and field:  
First still at Fold, at Even; now last remain?  
Dost thou not wish I had mine eye again,  
Which that abhorred man noman did put out,  
Assisted by his execrable rout,  
When he had wrought me down with wine? but he  
Must not escape my wreak so cunningly.  
I would to heaven thou knewst, and could but speak,  
To tell me where he lurks now; I would break  
His brain about my Cave, strewed here and there,  
To ease my heart of those foul ills, that were  
Th'inflictions of a man, I prisde at nought.  
Thus let he him abroad; when I (once brought  
A little from his hold) myself first losde,  
And next, my friends. Then drove we, and disposed,  
His strait-leggd fat fleece-bearers over land,  
Even till they all were in my ships command;  
And to our loved friends, showed our praid-for sight,  
Escaped from death. But for our loss, outright  
They broke in tears; which with a look I stayed,  
And bade them take our Boot in. They obeyed;  
And up we all went; sat, and used our Oars,  
But having left as far the savage shores,  
As one might hear a voice; we then might see  
The Cyclops at the haven; when instantly  
I stayed our Oars, and this insultance used:  
Cyclops! 
Ulysses insults ●uer the Cyclops.  thou shouldst not have so much abused  
Thy monstrous forces, to oppose their least,  
Against a man immartiall, and a guest;  
And eat his fellows: thou mightst know there were  
Some ills behind (rude swain) for thee to bear;  
That feared not to devour thy guests, and break  
All laws of humans: jove sends therefore wreak,  
And all the Gods, by me. This blew the more  
His burning fury; when the top he tore  
From off a huge Rock; and so right a throw  
Made at our ship, that just before the Prow,  
It overflew and fallen: mist Mast and all  
Exceeding little; but about the fall,  
So fierce a wave it raised, that back it bore  
Our ship so far, it almost touched the shore.  
A beadhooke then (a far-extended one)  
I snatched up, thrust hard, and so set us gone  
Some little way; and straight commanded all  
To help me with their Oars; on pain to fall  
Again on our confusion. But a sign,  
I with my head made; and their Oars were mine,  
In all performance. When we off were set,  
(Then first, twice further) my heart was so great,  
It would again provoke him: but my men  
On all sides rushed about me, to contain;  
And said: Unhappy! why will you provoke  
A man so rude; that with so dead a stroke,  
Given with his Rock-dart, made the sea thrust back  
Our ship so far; and near hand forced our wrack?  
Should he again, but hear your voice resound,  
And any word reach; thereby would be found  
His Darts direction; which would, in his fall,  
Crush piece-meal us, quite split our ship and all;  
So much dart wields the monster. Thus urged they  
Impossible things, in fear; but I gave way  
To that wrath, which so long I held depressed,  
(By great Necessity conquered) in my breast.  
Cyclops! 
Ulysses' continued insolence, no more to repeat what he said to the Cyclops, then to let his hearers know Epithets, and estimation in the world.  if any ask thee, who imposed  
Th'unsightly blemish that thine eye enclosed;  
Say that Ulysses (old Laertes son,  
Whose seat is Ithaca; and who hath won  
Surname of Citie-racer) bored it out.  
At this, he braid so loud, that round about  
He drove affrighted Echoes through the Air;  
And said: O beast! I was premonished fair,  
By aged Prophecy, in one that was  
A great, and good man; this should come to pass;  
And how 'tis proved now? Augur Telemus,  
Surnamed Eurymedes (that spent with us  
His age in Augury; and did exceed  
In all presage of Truth) said all this deed,  
Should this event take; authored by the hand  
Of one Ulysseses; who I thought was manned  
With great and goodly parsonage; and bore  
A virtue answerable: and this shore  
Should shake with weight of such a conqueror,  
When now a weakling came, a dwarfie thing,  
A thing of nothing; who yet wit did bring,  
That brought supply to all; and with his wine,  
Put out the flame, where all my light did shine.  
Come, land again, Ulysses! that my hand,  
May Guest-rites give thee; and the great command,  
That Neptune hath at sea, I may convert  
To the deduction, where abides thy heart,  
With my solicit; whose Son I am;  
And whose fame boasts to bear my Fathers●ame.  
Nor think my hurt offends me; for my S●●e  
Can soon repose in it the visual fire,  
At his free pleasure; which no power beside  
Can boast: of men, or of the Deified.  
I answered: Would to God I could compel  
Both life and soul from thee; and send to hell  
Those spoils of nature. Hardly Nept●ne then  
Could cure thy hurt, and give th●e all again.  
Then flew fierce vows to Nept●ne; 
Polyphems' imprecation against Ulysses.  both his hands  
To starre-borne heaven cast: O tho● that all lands  
Girdst in thy ambient Circled; and in air  
Shak'st the curled Tresses of thy sapphire hair;  
If I be thine, or thou mayst justly vaunt,  
Thou art my Father: hear me now, and grant  
That this Ulysseses (old Laertes son,  
That dwells in Ithaca; and name hath won  
Of Citie-ruiner) may never reach  
His natural region. Or if to fetch,  
That, and the sight of his fair roo●es and friends,  
Be fatal to him; let him that Amends  
For all his miseries, long time and ill,  
Smart for, and fail of: nor that Fate fulfil,  
Till all his soldiers quite are cast away  
In others ships. And when, at last, the day  
Of his sole-landing, shall his dwelling show,  
Let Detriment prepare him wrongs enough.  
Thus prayed he Neptune; who, his Sire appeared;  
And all his praire, to every syllable heard.  
But then a Rock, in size more amplified  
Than first, he ravished to him; and implied  
A dismal strength in it; when (wheeled about)  
He sent it after us; nor flew it out  
From any blind aim; for a little pass  
Beyond our Foredeck, from the fall there was:  
With which the sea, our ship gave back upon,  
And shrunk up into billows from the stone;  
Our ship again repelling, near as near  
The shore as first. But then our Rowers were  
(Being warned, more armed) and stronglier stemd the flood  
That bore back on us, till our ship made good  
The other Island, where our whole Fleet lay;  
In which our friends lay mourning for our stay;  
And every minute looked when we should land.  
Where (now arrived) we drew up to the sand;  
The Cyclops sheep dividing, that none there  
(Of all our privates) might be wrung, and bear  
Too much on power. The Ram yet was alone,  
By all my friends, made all my portion,  
Above all others; and I made him then,  
A 
* No occasion let pass to Ulysses' piety, in our Poets singular wit and wisedom●.  sacrifice for me, and all my men,  
To cloud-compelling jove, that all commands.  
To whom I burnt the Thighs: but my sad hands,  
Received no grace from him; who studied how  
To offer, men and fleet to Overthrow.  
All day, till Sunset yet, we sat and eat;  
And liberal store took in, of wine and meat.  
The Sun then down, and place resigned to shade,  
We slept; Morn came, my men I raised, and made  
All go aboard; weigh Anchor, and away.  
They boarded, sat and beat the aged sea;  
And forth we made sail; sad for loss before,  
And yet had comfort, since we lost no more.  
Finis libri noni Hom. Odyss.   

THE TENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Ulysses now relates to us,  
The grace he had with Aeolus,  
Great Guardian of the hollow winds:  
Which in a leather bag he binds,  
And gives Ulysses; all but one,  
Which Zephyre was; who filled alone  
Ulysses' sails. The Bag once seen  
(While he slept) by Ulysses' men;  
They thinking, it did gold enclose;  
To find it▪ all the winds did lose.  
Who back flew to their guard again.  
Forth sailed he; and did next attain  
To where the Laestrigonians dwell.  
Where he eleven ships lost; and fell  
On the Aeaean coast; whose shore  
He sends Eurylochus t'explore,  
Dividing with him half his men:  
Who go, and turn no more again;  
(All save Eurylochus, to swine  
By Circe turned.) Their stays incline  
Ulysses to their search; who got  
Of Mercury an Antidote,  
(Which Moly was) 'gainst Ci●ces charms,  
And so avoids his soldiers harms.  
A year with Circe all remain,  
And then their native forms regain.  
On utter shores, a time they dwell,  
While Ithacus descends to hell.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

Great Aeolus  
And Circe, friends,  
Finds Ithacus;  
And Hell descends.    
TO the Aeolian Island we attained,  
That swum about still on the sea; where reigned  
The God-loued Aeolus Hippotydes.  
A wall of steel it had; and in the seas,  
A wave-beat-smooth-rocke, moved about the wall.  
Twelve children, in his house imperial,  
Were borne to him: of which, six daughters were,  
And six were sons, that youths sweet flower did bear.  
His daughters, to his sons he gave, as wives;  
Who spent in feastful comforts▪ all their lives;  
Close seated by their Sire, and his grave Spouse.  
Past number were the dishes, that the house  
Made ever savour; and still full the Hall;  
As long as day shined; in the nighttime, all  
Slept with their chaste wives. Each his fair carved bed  
Most richly furnished; and this life they led.  
We reached the City, and fair roofs of these;  
Where, a whole months time; all things that might please  
The King vouchsafed us. Of great Troy inquired,  
The Grecian fleet, and how the greeks retired:  
To all which, I gave answer, as behooved.  
The fit time come; when I dismission moved;  
He nothing would deny me, but addressed  
My pass with such a bounty, as might best  
Teach me contentment. For he did enfold  
Within an Ox hide, flayed at nine years old,  
All th'airy blasts, that were of stormy kinds.  
Saturnius made him Steward of his winds; 
I●piter.   
And gave him power, to raise and to assuage;  
And these he gave me, curbed thus of their rage.  
Which in a glittering silver band I bound  
And hung up in my ship: enclosed so round,  
That no egression, any breath could find.  
Only he left abroad the Western wind;  
To speed our ships and us, with blasts secure.  
But our securities, made all unsure:  
Nor could he consummate our course alone,  
When all the rest had got egression.  
Which thus succeeded. Nine whole days and nights  
We sailed in safety; and the tenth, the lights  
Borne on our Country earth, we might descry:  
So near we drew, and yet even then fell I  
(Being overwatcht) into a fatal sleep:  
For I would suffer no man else to keep  
The foot that ruled my vessels course; 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 He calls the Stern, the foot of the ship.  to lead  
The faster home. My friends then Envy fed,  
About the bag I hung up; and supposed,  
That gold, and silver, I had there enclosed,  
As gift from Aeolus. And said, O heaven!  
What grace, and grave price, is by all men given  
To our Commander? Whatsoever coast  
Or town, he comes to, how much he engrossed  
Of fair and precious prey, and brought from Troy?  
We the same voyage went; and yet enjoy  
In our return, these empty hands for all.  
This bag now, Aeolus was so liberal  
To make a Guest-gift to him. Let us try  
Of what consists, the faire-bound Treasury;  
And how much gold, and silver it contains.  
Ill counsel, present approbation gains.  
They oped the bag, and out the vapours broke;  
When instant tempest did our vessel take,  
That bore us back to Sea; to mourn anew  
Our absent Country. Up amazed I flew,  
And desperate things discoursed; if I should cast  
Myself to ruin in the seas; or taste  
Amongst the living more moan, and sustain?  
Silent, I did so; and lay hid again  
Beneath the hatches: while an ill wind took  
My ships, back to Aeolia: my men struck  
With woe enough. We pumped and landed then;  
took food, for all this; and (of all my men,)  
I took a Herald to me, and away  
Went to the Court of Aeolus; Where they  
Were feasting still: he, wife and children set  
Together close. We would not (at their meat)  
Thrust in; but humbly on the threshold sat.  
He then, amazed, my presence wondered at;  
And called to me: Ulysses! how, thus back  
Art thou arrived here? what foul spirit broke  
Into thy bosom to retire thee thus?  
We thought we had deduction, curious  
Given thee before; to reach thy shore and home:  
Did it not like thee? I (even overcome  
With worthy sorrow) answered: My ill men  
Have done me mischief; and to them hath been  
My sleep th'unhappy motive. But do you  
(Dearest of friends) deign succour to my vow:  
Your powers command it. Thus endevord I  
With soft speech to repair my misery.  
The rest, with ruth, sat dumb: but thus spoke he;  
avant; and quickly quit my land of thee,  
Thou worst of all that breath; it fits not me  
To convoy, and take in, whom heavens expose.  
Away, and with thee go, the worst of woes,  
That seekest my friendship, and the Gods thy foes.  
Thus he dismissed me, sighing; forth we sailed,  
At heart afflicted: and now wholly failed  
The minds my men sustained▪ so spent they were  
With toiling at their oars; and worse did bear  
Their growing labours; that they caused their grought,  
By selfe-willd follies; nor now, ever thought  
To see their Country more. Six nights and days  
We sailed; the seventh, we saw fair Lamos raise  
Her lofty Towers (The Laestrigonian State)  
That bears her Ports, so far disterminate.  
Where 
* This place suffers different construction, in all the Commentors, (in which all err from the mind of the Poet: as in a hundred other places (which yet I want time to approve) especially about 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ etc. Prope enim noctis & diei ●unt viae; (or similiter which 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifies) which they will have to be understood, that the days in that region are long and the nights short; where Hom. intends, that the Equinoctial is there: (for how else is the course of day and night near or equal?) But therefore the nightsman bathe his double hire, being as long about his charge as the ●●her: and the night being more dangerous, etc. And if the day were so long▪ why should the nightsman, be preferred in wages?  Shepherd, Shepheard calls out; he a home  
Is called out by the other that doth come  
From charge abroad; and then goes he to sleep,  
The other issuing. He whose turn doth keep  
The Night observance, hath his double hire;  
Since Day and Night, in equal length expire,  
About that Region; and the Nights watch weighed  
At twice the Days ward; since the charge that's laid  
Upon the Nightsman (besides breach of sleep)  
Exceeds the Daies-mans': for one, oxen keep,  
The other sheep. But when the haven we found,  
(Exceeding famous; and environed round  
With one continuate rock: which, so much bend,  
That both ends almost met; so prominent  
They were; and made, the havens mouth passing straight)  
Our whole fleet, in we got; in whole receipt  
Our Ships lay anchor close: nor needed we  
Fear harm on any 
* For being cast on the stays, as ships are by weather.  Stays; tranquillity  
So purely sat there: that waves great, nor small  
Did ever rise to any height at all.  
And yet would I, no entry make; but stayed  
Alone without the haven; and thence surveyed  
From out a lofty watch-towre raised there,  
The Country round about: nor any where  
The work of man or beast, appeared to me;  
Only a smoke from earth break, I might see.  
I than made choice of two; and added more,  
A Herald for associate, to explore  
What sort of men lived there. They went, and saw  
A beaten way, through which, carts used to draw  
Wood from the high hills, to the Town; and met  
A maid without the Port; about to get  
Some near spring-water. She, the daughter was  
Of mighty Laestrigonian, Antiphas:  
And to the clear spring, called Artacia, went;  
To which the whole Town, for their water sent.  
To her they came, and asked who governed there?  
And what the people, whom he ordered were?  
She answered not, but led them through the Port,  
As making haste, to show her fathers Court.  
Where, entered; they beheld (to their affright)  
A woman like a mountain top, in height.  
Who rushed abroad; and from the Counsel place  
Called home her horrid husband Antiphas. 
Ant●ph●● 〈◊〉 king there.   
Who (deadly minded) strait he snatched up one,  
And fell to supper. Both the rest were gone;  
And to the fleet came. Antiphas, a cry  
Drove through the City; (which heard,) instantly  
This way, and that, innumerable sorts,  
Not men, but Giants, issued through the Ports;  
And mighty flints from rocks tore; which they threw  
Amongst our ships; through which, an ill noise flew,  
Of shiverd ships, and life-expiring men,  
That were, like fishes, by the monsters slain,  
And borne to sad feast. While they slaughtered these,  
That were engaged in all th'advantages,  
The close-mouthed, and most dead-calme haven could give;  
I (that without lay) made some means to live;  
My sword drew; cut my gables; and to oars  
Set all my men; and, from the plagues, those shores  
Let fly amongst us, we made haste to fly;  
My men, close working, as men loath to die.  
My ship flew freely off; but theirs that lay  
On heaps in harbours, could enforce no way  
Through these stern fates, that had engaged them there.  
Forth our sad remnant sailed; yet still retained,  
The joys of men, that our poor few remained,  
Then to the I'll Aeae● we attained;  
Where faire-haird, dreadful, eloquent Circe reigned;  
Aeaetas sister, both by Dame and Sire;  
Both daughters to heavens man-enlightning fire;  
And pierce, whom Oceanus begat.  
The ship-fit Port here, soon we landed at:  
Some God directing us. Two days; two nights,  
We lay here pining in the fatal spites  
Of toil and sorrow. But the next third day  
When fair Aurora had informed; quick way  
I made out of my ship; my sword and lance  
took for my surer guide; and made advance  
Up to a prospect, I assay to see  
The works of men; or hear mortality  
Expire a voice. When I had climbed a height  
Rough and right hardly accessible; I might  
Behold from Circe's house (that in a grove  
Set thick with trees, stood; a bright vapour move.  
I than grew 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Curiose cogito.  curious in my thought to try  
Some fit inquiry; 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifying rutilus: by reason of the fire mixed with it. Fumus qui fit dum aliquid accendi●ur.  when so sprightly fly  
I saw the yellow smoke. But my discourse,  
A first retiring to my ship gave force  
To give my men their dinner, and to send,  
(Before th'adventure of myself) some friend.  
Being near my ship; of one so desolate  
Some God had pity, and would recreate  
My woes a little, putting up to me  
A great and high-palmd heart; that (fatally,  
Just in my way itself, to taste a flood)  
Was then descending: the Sun heat had sure  
Importuned him, besides the temperature  
His natural heat gave. Howsoever, I  
Made up to him, and let my javelin fly,  
That struck him through the mid-part of his chine;  
And made him (braying) in the dust confine  
His flying forces. Forth his spirit flew;  
When I stepped in, and from the death's wound drew  
My shrewdly-bitten lance; there let him lie  
Till I, of cut-up Osiers, did imply,  
A With; a fathom long, with which, his feet  
I made together, in a sure league meet;  
Stooped under him, and to my neck, I heaved  
The mighty burden; of which, I received  
A good part on my lance: for else I could  
By no means, with one hand alone, uphold  
(joined with one shoulder) such a deathful load.  
And so, to both my shoulders, both hands stood  
Needful assistants: for it was a Dear  
Goodly-wel-growne: when (coming something near  
Where road my ships) I cast it down, and rered  
My friends with kind words; whom, by name I cheered,  
In note particular, and said; See friends,  
We will not yet to Pluto's house, our ends  
Shall not be hastend, though we be declind  
In cause of comfort; till the day designed  
By Fates fixed finger. Come, as long as food  
Or wine lasts in our ship; le's spirit our blood  
And quit our care and hunger, both in one.  
This said; they frolikt, came, and looked upon  
With admiration, the huge bodied beast;  
And when their first-serued eyes, had done their feast;  
They washed, and made a to-be-striu'd-for meal,  
In 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The whole end of this counsel was to persuade his soldiers to explore those parts: which he kn●w would prove a most unpleasing motion to them: for their fellows terrible entertainment with Antiphas, and Polyph▪ and therefore he prepares the little he hath to say, with this long circumstance: implying a necessity of that service, and necessary resolution to add the trial of the event, to their other adventures,  point of honour. On which all did dwell  
The whole day long. And, to our venzons store,  
We added wine till we could wish no more.  
Sun set, and darkness up; we slept, till light  
Put darkness down: and then did I excite  
My friends to * counsel, uttering this: Now, friends,  
Afford unpassionate ear; though ill Fate lends,  
So good cause to your passion; no man knows  
The reason whence, and how, the darkness grows;  
The reason, how the Morn is thus begun:  
The reason, how the Man-enlightning Sun  
Dives under earth: the reason how again  
He reres his golden head. Those counsels then  
That pass our comprehension, we must leave  
To him that knows their causes; and receive  
Direction from him, in our acts, as far  
As he shall please to make them regular;  
And stoop them to our reason. In our state,  
What then behoves us? Can we estimate  
With all our counsels, where we are? or know  
(Without instruction, past our own skills) how  
(Put off from hence) to steer our course the more?  
I think we can not. We must then explore  
These parts for information; in which way  
We thus far are: last Morn I might display  
(From off a high-raisd cliff) an Island lie  
Girt with th'unmeasured Sea; and is so nigh  
That in the midst I saw the smoke arise  
Through tufts of trees. This rests then to advise,  
Who shall explore this. This struck dead their hearts,  
Remembering the most execrable parts  
That Laestrigonian Antiphas had played:  
And that foul Cyclops, that their fellows braid  
Betwixt his jaws; which moved them so; they cried.  
But idle tears, had never wants supplied.  
ay, in two parts divided all; and gave  
To either part his Captain: I must have  
The charge of one; and one of Godlike look,  
Eurylochus, the other. Lots we shook,  
(Put in a cask together,) which of us  
Should lead th'attempt; and 'twas Eurylochus.  
He freely went; with two and twenty more:  
All which, took leave with tears; and our eyes wore  
The same wet badge, of weak humanity.  
These, in a dale, did Circe's house 
Circe's house.  descry;  
Of bright stone built, in a conspicuous way:  
Before her gates; hill-wolues, and Lions lay;  
Which with her virtuous drugs, so tame she made;  
That Wolf, nor Lion, would one man invade  
With any violence; but all arose;  
Their huge long tails waged; and in fawns would close,  
As loving dogs, 
Simile.  when masters bring them home  
Relics of feast; in all observance, come  
And soothe their entries, with their fawns and bounds;  
All guests, still bringing, some scraps for their hounds:  
So, on these men, the Wolves, and Lions rampt;  
Their horrid paws set up. Their spirits were dampt  
To see such monstrous kindness; stayed at gate,  
And heard within, the Goddess elevate  
A voice divine, as at her web, she wrought,  
Subtle, and glorious, and past earthly thought;  
As all the houswiferies of Deities are.  
To hear a voice, so ravishingly rare;  
Polites (one exceeding dear to me,  
A Prince of men; and of no mean degree  
In knowing virtue; in all Acts, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 C●ius animus curas prudentes versat.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 whose mind  
Discreet cares all ways, used to turn, and wind)  
Was yet surprised with it; and said; O friends,  
Some one abides within here, that commends  
The place to us; and breathes a voice divine;  
As she some web wrought; or her spindle's twine  
She cherished with her song: the pavement rings▪  
With imitation of the tunes she sings;  
Some woman, or some Goddess 'tis; Assay  
To see with knocking. Thus said he; and they  
Both knocked, and called; and strait her shining gates  
She opened, issuing: bade them in, to cates.  
Led, and (unwise) they followed; all, but one  
Which was Eurylochus; who stood alone  
Without the gates; suspicious of a sleight;  
They entered, she made sit; and her deceit  
She cloaked with Thrones; and goodly chairs of State;  
Set hearby honey, and the delicate  
Wine brought from Smyrna, to them; meal and cheese;  
But harmful venoms, she commixed with these;  
That made their Country vanish from their thought.  
Which, eat; she touched them, with a rod that wrought  
Their transformation, far past human wunts;  
Swine's snouts, swine's bodies, took they, bristles, grunts;  
But still retained the ●oules they had before;  
Which made them mourn their bodies change the more.  
She shut them strait in sties; and gave them meat  
Oke-mast, and beech, and cornel fruit, they eat,  
groveling like swine on earth, in foulest sort.  
Eurylochus, strait hasted the report  
Of this his fellows most remorseful fate.  
Came to the ships; but so excruciate  
Was with his woe; he could not speak a word:  
His eyes stood full of tears; which show'd how stored,  
His mind with moan remained. We all admired;  
Asked what had chanced him, earnestly desired  
He would resolve us. At the last, our eyes,  
Inflamed in him, his fellows memories:  
And out his grief burst thus; 
Seeing them, he thought of his fellows.  You willed; we went  
Through those thick woods you saw; when, a descent  
show'd us a fair house, in a lightsome ground,  
Where (at some work) we heard a heavenly sound  
Breathed from a Goddess, or a woman's breast:  
They knocked, she oped her bright gates; each, her guest  
Her fair invitement made: nor would they stay,  
(Fools that they were) when she once led the way.  
I entered not, suspecting some deceit.  
When all together vanished; nor the sight  
Of any one, (though long I looked) mine eye  
Could any way discover. Instantly,  
(My sword, 
Viysses' mo●'d for his soldiers. Euryloch●●.  and bow reached) I bade show the place,  
When, down he fell; did both my knees embrace,  
And prayed with tears thus; O thou kept of God,  
Do not thy sel●e lose; nor to that abode  
Lead others rashly; both th● self, and all  
Thou ventur'st thither, I know well, must fall  
In one sure ruin: with these few then fly;  
We yet may shun the others destiny.  
I answered him: Euryloch●s! stay thou  
And keep the ship then; eat and drink: I now  
Will undertake th'adventure; there is cause  
In great Necessities unaltered laws.  
This said, I left both ship and seas; and on  
Along the sacred valleys all alone  
Went in discovery: till at last I came  
Where, of the maine● medcine-making D●me  
I saw the great house: where, encountered me,  
The golden-rod-sustaining Merc●rie; 
Ulysses' encounters Mercury.   
Even entering Circe's doors. He met me in  
A young man's likeness, of the first-flowred chin,  
Whose form hath all the grace, of one so young:  
He first called to me: then my hand, he wrung,  
And said; Thouno-place-finding-for repose;  
Whither, alone, by these hill-confines, goes  
Thy erring foot? thouart entering Circe's house,  
Where, (by her medicines, black, and sorcerous)  
Thy soldiers all are shut, in well-armd sties,  
And turned to swine. Art thou arrived with prize  
Fit for their ransoms? Thou comest out no more  
If once thou enter'st. Like thy men before  
Made to remain here; But I'll guard ●hee free;  
And save thee in her spite: receive of me  
This fair and good receipt; with which, once armed;  
Enter her roofs; for th'u'rt to all proof charmed  
Against the ill day: I will tell thee all  
Her baneful counsel. With a festival  
she'll first receive thee; but will spice thy bread  
With flowery poisons: yet unaltered  
Shall thy firm form be; for this remedy  
Stands most approved, 'gainst all her Sorcery.  
Which, thus particularly shun: When she  
Shall with her long rod strike thee; instantly  
Draw from thy thigh thy sword; and fly on her  
As to her slaughter. She, (surprised with fear  
And love) at first, will bid thee to her bed;  
Nor say the Goddess nay; that welcomed  
Thou mayst with all respect be; and procure  
Thy fellows freedoms. But before, make sure  
Her favours to thee; and the great oath take  
With which the blessed Gods, assurance make  
Of all they promise: that no prejudice  
(By stripping thee of form, and faculties)  
She may so much as once attempt on thee.  
This said, he gave his Antidote to me;  
Which from the earth he plucked; and told me all  
The virtue of it: 
The herb Moly which with Ulysses' whole Narration, ha●h in chi●●e●an Allegorical exposition. Notwithstanding I say▪ with our Spondanus, Credo in hoc vasto mundi ambitu extare res innumerasmirandae facultatis▪ adeo, ut ne quidem ista quae ad tran●formanda co●pora pertiner▪ iure è mundo eximi possit, etc.  With what Deities call  
The name it bears. And Moly they impose  
For name to it. The root is hard to lose  
From hold of earth, by mortals: but God's power  
Can all things do. 'tis black, but bears a flower  
As white as milk. And thus flew Mercury  
Up to immense Olympus, gliding by  
The sylvan Island. ay, made back my way  
To Circe's house: my mind, of my assay  
Much thought revolving. At her gates I stayed  
And called: she heard, and her bright doors displayed;  
Invited, led; I followed in: but tract  
With some distraction. In a Throne she placed  
My welcome person. Of a curious frame  
'twas, and so bright; I sat as in a flame.  
A footstool added. In a golden bowl  
She then suborned a potion: in her soul,  
Deformed things thinking; for amidst the wine  
She mixed her man-transforming medicine:  
Which when she saw I had devoured; she then,  
No more observed me with her soothing vain;  
But struck me with her rod, and, To her Sty,  
Bad; out, away, and with thy fellows lie.  
I drew my sword, and charged her, as I meant  
To take her life. When out she cried, and bend  
Beneath my sword, her knees; embracing 〈◊〉;  
And (full of tears) said, Who? of what high line  
Art thou the issue? whence? what shores sustain  
Thy native City? I amazed remain  
That drinking these my venoms, thouart not turned.  
Never drunk any this cup; but he mourned  
In other likeness; if it once had past  
The ivory bounders of his tongue, and taste.  
All but thyself, are brutishly declind:  
Thy breast holds firm yet, and unchanged thy mind:  
Thou canst be therefore, none else but the man  
Of many virtues: Ith●censi●●,  
Deepe-souled Ulysses: who, I oft was told,  
By that sly God, that bears the rod of gold,  
Was to arrive here, in retreat from Tr●y.  
Sheath then thy sword, and let my bed enjoy  
So much a man; that when the bed we prove,  
We may believe in one another's love.  
I then: O Circe, why entreat'st thou me  
To mix in any human league with thee;  
When thou, my friends hast beasts turned? and thy bed  
Tenderest to me; that I might likewise lead  
A beasts life with thee; softened, naked stripped;  
That in my blood, thy banes, may more be steeped.  
I never will ascend thy bed, before  
I may affirm; that in heavens sight you swore  
The great oath of the Gods; that all attempt  
To do me ill, is from your thoughts exempt.  
I said; she swore: when, all the oath-rites said,  
I then ascended her adorned bed;  
But thus prepared: four handmaids served her there;  
That daughters to her silver fountains were,  
To her bright-sea-obseruing sacred floods;  
And to her uncut consecrated woods.  
One decked the Throne-tops, with rich clothes of state;  
And did, with silks, the footpace, consecreate.  
Another, silver tables set before  
The pompous Throne; and golden dishes store  
Served in with several feast. A third filled wine;  
The fourth brought water, and made fuel shine  
In ruddy fires; beneath a womb of brass.  
Which heat, I bathed; and odorous water was  
dispurpled lightly, on my head, and neck;  
That might my late, he●●t-hurting sorrows check  
With the refreshing sweetness; and, for that▪  
Men sometimes, may be something delicate.  
Bathed, and adorned; she led me to a Throne  
Of massy silver; and of fashion  
Exceeding curious. A fair footstool set;  
Water apposde, and every sort of meat  
Set on th'elaborately polished board.  
She wished my taste employed; but not a word  
Would my ears taste, of taste: my mind had food  
That must digest; eye meat would do me good.  
Circe (observing, that I put no hand  
To any banquet; having countermand  
From weightier cares; the light cates could excuse)  
Bowing her near me; these winged words did use:  
Why sits Ulysses, like one dumb? his mind  
Lessening with languors? Nor to food inclined;  
Nor wine? Whence comes it? out of any fear  
Of more illusion? You must need forbear  
That wrongful doubt, since you have heard me swear.  
O Circe! (I replied) what man is he,  
Awed with the rights of true humanity,  
That dares taste food or wine; before he sees  
His friends redeemed from their deformities?  
If you be gentle, and indeed incline  
To let me taste the comfort of your wine;  
Dissolve the charms, that their forced forms encheine  
And show me here, my honoured friends, like men.  
This said, she left her Throne, and took her rod;  
Went to her Sty, and let my men abroad,  
Like swine of nine years old. They opposite stood;  
Observed their brutish form; and looked for food;  
When, with another medicine, (every one  
All over smeered) their bristles all were gone,  
Produced by malice of the other bane;  
And every one, afresh, looked up a man.  
Both younger than they were; of stature more;  
And all their forms, much goodlier than before.  
All knew me; clinged about me, and a cry  
Of pleasing mourning, flew about so high,  
The horrid roof resounded; and the Queen  
Herself, was moved, to see our kind so keen.  
Who bade me now; bring ship and men ashore;  
Our arms, and goods, in caves hid; and restore  
Myself to her, with all my other men.  
I granted, went, and oped the weeping vein  
In all my men; whose violent joy to see  
My safe return, was passing kindly free  
Of friendly tears, and miserably wept.  
You have not seen young Heiffers (highly kept;  
Filled full of daisies at the field, and driven  
Home to their hovels; all so sprightly given  
That no room can contain them; but about,  
Base by the Dams, and let their spirits out  
In ceasselesse bleating) of more jocund plight  
Then my kind friends, even crying out with sight  
Of my return so doubted. Circled me  
With all their welcomes, and as cheerfully  
Disposed their rapt minds, as if there they saw  
Their natural Country, cliffy Itbaca;  
And even the roofs where they were bred and borne.  
And vowed as much, with tears: O your return  
As much delights us; as in you had come  
Our Country to us, and our natural home.  
But what unhappy fate hath re●t our friends?  
I gave unlooked for answer; That amends  
Made for their mourning, bade them first of all,  
Our ship ashore draw; then in Caverns stall  
Our foodie cattle, hide our mutual prize;  
And then (said I) attend me, that your eyes,  
In Circe's sacred house, may see each friend,  
Eating and drinking, banquet's out of end.  
They soon obeyed; all but Euryl●chus;  
Who needs would stay them all; and counselled thus;  
O wretches! whither will ye? why are you  
Fond of your mischiefs? and such gladness show  
For Circe's house; that will transform ye all  
To Swine, or Wolves, or Lions? Never shall  
Our heads get out; if once within we be,  
But stay compelled by strong Necessity.  
So wrought the Cycl●p, when t'his cave, our friends  
This bold on, led one, and brought all their ends  
By his one indiscretion. ay, for this  
Thought with my sword (that desperate head of his  
hewn from his neck) to gash upon the ground  
His mangld body, though my blood was bound  
In near alliance to him. But the rest  
With humble suit contained me, and request,  
That I would leave him, with my ship alone;  
And to the sacred Palace lead them on.  
I led them; nor Eurylochus would stay,  
From their attendance on me: Our late fray  
Struck to his heart so. But mean time, my men,  
In Circe's house, were all▪ in several bane  
Studiously sweetened, smudged with oil▪ and decked  
With, in, and outweeds: and a feast secret  
Served in before them: at which, close we found  
They all were set, cheered, and carousing round.  
When (mutual sight had, and all thought on) than  
Feast was forgotten; 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  and the moan again  
About the house flew, 
Commemorabantque omnia. Intending all their miseries, escapes, and meetings.  driven with wings of joy.  
But than spoke Circe; Now, no more annoy:  
I know myself, what woes by sea, and shore,  
And men unjust, have plagued enough before  
Your injured virtues: here then, feast as long;  
And be as cheerful, till ye grow as strong,  
As when ye first forsook your Country earth.  
Ye now fare all, like exiles; not a mirth  
Flashed in amongst ye, but is quenched again  
With still-renewd tears: though the beaten vain  
Of your distresses, should (me think) be now  
Benumb with sufferance. We did well allow  
Her kind persuasions; and the whole year stayed  
In varied feast with her. When, now arrayed  
The world was with the Spring; and orbie hours  
Had gone the round again, through herbs and flowers,  
The months absolved in order; till the days  
Had run their full race, in Apollo's rays;  
My friends remembered me of home; and said,  
If ever Fate would sign my pass; delayed  
It should be now no more. I heard them well;  
Yet that day, spent in feast, till darkness fell;  
And sleep, his virtues, through our vapours shed.  
When I ascended, sacred Circe's bed;  
Implored my pass; and her performed vow  
Which now, my soul urged; and my soldiers now  
Afflicted me with tears to get them gone.  
All these I told her; and she answered these;  
Much skilled Ulysses Laertiades!  
Remain no more, against your wills with me:  
But take your free way: only this must be  
Performed before you steer your course for home;  
You must the way to Pluto overcome;  
And stern Persephone, to form your pass,  
By th'aged Theban Soul Tiresias;  
The dark-browd Prophet: whose soul yet can see  
Clearly, and firmly: grave Persephone,  
(Even dead) gave him a mind; that he alone  
Might sing Truths solid wisdom, and not one  
Prove more than shade, in his comparison.  
This broke my heart; I sunk into my bed;  
Mourned, and would never more be comforted  
With light, nor life. But having now expressed  
My pains enough to her, in my unrest,  
That so I might prepare her ruth; and get  
All I held fit, for an affair so great;  
I said; O Circe, who shall steer my course  
To Pluto's kingdom? Never ship had force  
To make that voyage. The divine in voice,  
Said, Seek no guide, raise you your Mast, and hoice  
Your ships white sails; and then, sit you at peace;  
The fresh North spirit, shall wa●t ye through the seas.  
But, having past th' Ocean, you shall see;  
A little shore, that to Persephone  
Puts up a consecrated wood; where grows,  
Tall Firres, and Sallowes, that their fruits soon loose:  
Cast anchor in the gulfs: and go, alone  
To Pluto's dark house, where, to Acheron  
Cocytus runs, and Pyriphlegiton:  
Cocytus borne of Styx, and where a Rock  
Of both the met floods, bears the roaring shock,  
The dark Hero, (great Tiresias)  
Now coming near, (to gain propitious pass)  
Dig (of a cubit every way) a pit;  
And power (to all that are deceased) in it  
A solemn sacrifice. For which; first take  
Honey and wine, and their commixtion make:  
Then sweet wine, neat; and thirdly; water power;  
And lastly, add to these, the whitest flower▪  
Then vow to all the weak necks of the dead,  
Offerings a number: and when thou shalt tread  
The Ithacensian shore; to sacrifice  
A Heifer never tamed, and most of prize;  
A pile of all thy most-esteemed goods  
inflaming to the dear streams of their bloods:  
And, in secret Rites, to Tiresias vow  
A Ram coal black, at all parts, that doth flow  
With fat, and fleece; and all thy flocks doth lead:  
When the all-calling nation of the dead  
Thou thus hast prayed to; 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Which is expounded Inclyta examina mortuorum. But 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is the Epithet of Pluto; and by Analogy belongs to the dead, quod ad se omnes advocet.  offer on the place,  
A Ram and Ewe all black: being turned in face  
To dreadful Erebus; thyself aside  
The floods shore walking. And then, gratified  
With flocks of Souls, of Men, and Dames deceased,  
Shall all thy pious Rites be. Strait, addressed  
See then the offering that thy fellows slew;  
Flayed, and imposed in fire; and all thy Crew,  
Pray to the state of either Deity,  
Grave Pluto, and severe Persephone.  
Then draw thy sword, stand firm; nor suffer one  
Of all the faint shades, of the dead and gone,  
T'approach the blood, till thou hast heard their king,  
The wise Tiresias: who, thy offering  
Will instantly do honour: thy home ways,  
And all the measure of them, by the seas  
Amply unfolding. This the Goddess told;  
And then, the morning in her Throne of gold,  
Surveyed the vast world; by whose orient light,  
The Nymph adorned me with attires as bright;  
Her own hands putting on, both shirt and weed,  
Robes fine, and curious; and upon my head,  
An ornament that glitterd like a flame:  
Gird me in gold; and forth betimes I came  
Amongst my soldiers; rousd them all from sleep;  
And bade them now; no more observance keep  
Of ease, and feast; but strait, a shipboard fall,  
For now the Goddess had informed me all:  
Their noble spirits agreed; nor yet so clear  
Could I bring all off; but Elpenor there  
His heedless life left: he was youngest man  
Of all my company, and one that wan  
Lest fa●e for arms; as little for his brain;  
Who (too much steeped in wine, and so made fain;  
To get refreshing by the cool of sleep;  
Apart his fellows; plunged in vapours deep;  
And they as high in tumult of their way)  
Suddenly waked, and (quite out of the stay  
A sober mind had given him) would descend  
A huge long Ladder, forward; and an end  
Fell from the very roof; full pitching on  
The dearest joint, his head was placed upon;  
Which (quite dissolved,) let loose his soul to hell.  
ay, to the rest; and Circe's means did tell  
Of our return (as crossing clean the hope  
I gave them first) and said; You think the scope  
Of our endeavours now, is strait for home,  
No: Circe otherwise designed; whose doom  
Enjoind us first, to greet the dreadful house  
Of Austere Pluto, and his glorious spouse;  
To take the counsel of Tiresias  
(The reverend Theban) to direct our pass.  
This broke their hearts, and grief made tear their hair  
But grief was never good, at great affair.  
It would have way yet. We went woeful on  
To ship and shore, where, was arrived as soon  
Circe unseen; a black Ewe, and a Ram,  
Binding for sacrifice; and as she came  
Vanished again, unwitnessed by our eyes;  
Which grieved not us, nor checked our sacrifice;  
For who would see God, loath to let us see?  
This way, or that bent; still his ways are free.  
Finis decimi libri Hom. Odyss.   

THE XI. BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
VLysses way to Hell appears;  
Where he, the gr●●e Tiresias●eares ●eares;  
Inquires his own, and others fates.  
His mother sees, and th'after flates▪  
In which, were held, by sad Decease  
Heroes, and Herocsses;  
A number, ● that at Troy●ag'dwarre ●ag'dwarre;  
As Ajax that was still as jar  
With Ithacus, for th'arms he lost;  
And with the great Achilles' Ghost.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

Ulysses here  
Invokes the dead;  
The lives appear,  
Hereafter led.    
Arrived now at our ship; we launched, and set  
Our Mast up, put forth sail; and in did get  
Our late got cattle. Up our sails, we went;  
My wayward fellows mourning now th'event.  
A good companion yet▪ 
They mourned the ●●ent before they knew it.  a foreright wind;  
Circe, (the excellent utterer of her mind)  
Supplied our murmuring consorts with, that was  
Both speed, and guide to our adventurous pass.  
All day our sails stood to the winds; and made  
Our voyage prosperous. Sun then set, and shade  
All ways obscuring: on the bounds we fell  
Of deep Oceanus; where people dwell  
Whom a perpetual cloud obscures outright:  
To whom the cheerful Sun lends never light;  
Nor when he mounts the star-sustaining heaven;  
Nor when he stoops earth, and sets up the Even:  
But Night holds fixed wings, feathered all with Banes,  
Above those most unblessed Cimmeri●nes.  
Here drew we up our ship: our sheep wit-drew;  
And walked the shore till we attained the view  
Of that sad region Circe had foreshowed;  
And then the sacred offerings, to be vowed,  
Eurylochus, and Persimedes bore.  
When I, my sword drew, and earth's womb did gore  
Till I, a pit digged of a cubit round;  
Which with the liquid sacrifice, we crowned  
First, honey mixed with wine; then, sweet wine neat;  
Then water poured in; last the flower of wheat.  
Much I importuned then, the weake-neckt dead,  
And vowed, when I the barren soil should tread  
Of cliffy Ithaca; amidst my hall  
To kill a Heifer, my clear best of all,  
And give in offering: on a Pile composed  
Of all the choice goods, my whole house enclosed.  
And to Tiresias, himself, alone  
A sheep coal-black, and the selectest one  
Of all my flocks. When to the powers beneath,  
The sacred nation, that survive with Death,  
My prayers, and vows, had done devotions fit;  
I took the offerings, and upon the pit  
Bereft their lives. Out gushed the sable blood;  
And round about me, fled out of the flood,  
The Souls of the deceased. There clustered then,  
Youths, and their wives, much suffering aged men,  
Soft tender virgins, that but new came there,  
By timeless death, and green their sorrows were.  
There, men at Arms, with armours all imbrued,  
Wounded with lances, and with falchions hewed:  
In numbers, up and down the ditch, did stalk;  
And threw unmeasured cries, about their walk;  
So horrid that a bloodless fear surprised,  
My daunted spirits. Strait then, I advised  
My friends to flay the slaughtered sacrifice;  
Put them in fire, and to the Deities;  
Stern Pluto, and Persephone, apply  
Excitefull prayers. Then drew I from my Thy,  
My well-edged sword; stepped in, and firmly stood  
Betwixt the press of shadows, and the blood;  
And would not suffer any one to dip  
Within our offering, his unsolide lip;  
Before Tiresias, that did all control.  
The first that priest in, was Elpenors' soul;  
His body, in the broad-waid earth, as yet  
Vnmournd, unburied by us; since we sweat  
With other urgent labours. Yet his smart,  
I wept to see; and rued it from my heart;  
inquiring how, he could before me be,  
That came by ship? He mourning, answered me:  
In Circe's house; the spite some Spirit did bear;  
And the unspeakable good liquor there  
Hath been my bane. For being to descend  
A ladder much in height; I did not tend  
My way well down; but forwards made a proof  
To tread the rounds; and from the very roof  
Fell on my neck, and broke it. And this made  
My soul thus visit this infernal shade.  
And here, by them that next thyself are dear,  
Thy Wife, and Father, that a little one  
Gave food to thee; and by thy only Son  
At home behind thee left, (Telemachus)  
Do not depart by stealth, and leave me thus,  
Vnmourned, unburied: left neglected I▪  
Bring on thyself, th'incensed Deity.  
I know, that sailed from hence, thy ship must touch  
On th'isle Ae●●; where vouchsafe thus much  
(Good king) that, landed, thou wilt instantly,  
Bestow on me, thy royal memory;  
To this grace; that my body; arms and all,  
May rest consumed in fiery funeral.  
And on the foamy shore, a Sepulchre  
Erect to me; that after times may hear  
Of one so hapless. Let me these implore;  
And fix upon my Sepulchre, 
Misenus apud Virgilium, ingenti mole, etc..  the Ore  
With which alive, I shoooke the aged seas;  
And had, of friends, the dear societies.  
I told the wretched Soul, I would fulfil  
And execute to th'utmost point, his will;  
And, all the time, we sadly talk●; I still  
My sword above the blood held; when aside  
The Idol of my friend, still amplified  
His plaint, as up and down, the shades he erred.  
Then, my deceased mother's Soul appeared;  
Fair daughter of Antolicus, the Great;  
Grave Anticlae●, Whom, when forth I set  
For sacred Ilium, I had left alive.  
Her sight, much moved me; and to tears did drive  
My note of her decease: and yet, not she  
(Though in my ruth, she held the highest degree)  
Would I admit to touch the sacred blood;  
Till from Tiresias, I had understood  
What Circe's told me. At the length did land,  
Theban Tiresias soul; and in his hand  
Sustained a golden Sceptre, 
Tiresi●● to Vlyss●●.  knew me well;  
And said; O man unhappy, why to hell  
Admitst thou dark arrival; and the light  
The Sun gives, leav'st; to have the horrid sight  
Of this black region, and the shadows here?  
Now sheath thy sharp sword; and the pit forbear.  
That I the blood may taste; and then relate  
The truth of those acts, that affect thy Fate.  
I sheathed my sword; and left the pit, till he  
The black blood tasting, thus instructed me;  
Renoum'd Ulysses! all unasked, I know  
That all the cause of thy arrival now,  
Is to inquire thy wished retreat, for home:  
Which hardly God will let thee overcome;  
Since Neptune still will his opposure try,  
With all his laid-up anger, for the eye  
His loved Son lost to thee. And yet through all  
Thy suffering course, (which must be capital)  
If both thine own affections, and thy friends  
Thou wilt contain; when thy access ascends  
The threeforckt Island, having 'scaped the seas;  
(Where ye shall find fed, on the flowery leas,  
Fat flocks, and Oxen; which the Sun doth own;  
To whom are all things, as well heard as shown:  
And never dare, one head of those to slay;  
But hold, unharmefull on, your wished way)  
Though through enough affliction; yet secure  
Your Fates shall land ye. But Presage says sure,  
If once ye spoil them; spoil to all thy friends;  
Spoil to thy Fleet; and if the justice ends  
Short of thyself; it shall be long before,  
And that length, forced out, with inflictions store:  
When, losing all thy fellows, in a sail  
Of foreign built (when most thy Fates prevail  
In thy deliverance) thus th'event shall sort;  
Thou shalt find shipwreck, raging in thy Port:  
Proud men, thy goods consuming; and thy Wife  
Urging with gifts; give charge upon thy life.  
But all these wrongs, Revenge shall end to thee;  
And force, or cunning, set with slaughter, free  
Thy house of all thy spoilers. Yet again,  
Thou shalt a voyage make; and come to men  
That know no Sea; nor ships, nor oars, that are  
Wings to a ship; nor mix with any fare, 
Men that never eat salt with their food.   
Salts savoury vapour. Where thou first shalt land,  
This cleare-given sign, shall let thee understand,  
That there those men remain: assume ashore,  
Up to thy royal shoulder, a ship oar;  
With which, when thou shalt meet one on the way,  
That will, in Country admiration, say  
What dost thou with that wan, upon thy neck?  
There, fix (that wan) thy oar; and that shore deck  
With sacred Rites to Neptune: slaughter there  
A Ram, a Bull, and, (who for strength doth bear  
The name of husband to a herd) a Boar.  
And, coming home, upon thy natural shore,  
Give pious Hecatombs, to all the Gods  
(Degrees observed). And then the Periods  
Of all thy labours, in the peace shall end  
Of easy death; which shall the less extend  
His passion to thee; that thy foe, the Sea  
Shall not enforce it, but Death's victory,  
Shall chance in onely-earnest-pray-vowed age: 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Which all translate senectute sub molli. The Epithet 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, not of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, viz. pinguis; or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, pinguiter. But 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifying flagitanter orando. To which, pious age is ever altogether addicted.   
Obtained at home, quite emptied of his rage;  
Thy subjects round about thee, rich and blessed:  
And here hath Truth summed up, thy vital rest.  
I answered him; We will suppose all these  
Decreed in Deity; let it likewise please  
Tiresias to resolve me, why so near  
The blood and me, my mother's Soul doth bear;  
And yet, nor word, not look, vouchsafe her Son?  
Doth she not know me? No (said he) nor none  
Of all these spirits, but myself alone;  
Knows any thing, till he shall taste the blood;  
But whomsoever, you shall do that good,  
He will the truth, of all you wish, unfold;  
Who, you envy it to, will all withhold.  
Thus said the kingly soul, and made retreat,  
Amidst the inner parts of Pluto's Sea●e,  
When he had spoke thus, by divine instinct:  
Still I stood firm, till to the blood's precinct  
My mother came, and drunk; and then she knew,  
I was her Son; had passion to renew  
Her natural plaints; which thus she did pursue:  
How is it, (O my Son) that you alive,  
This deadly-darksome region underdive?  
Twixt which, and earth, so many mighty seas,  
And horrid currents, interpose their prea●e?  
Oceanus, in chief; which none (unless  
More helped than you) on foot now can transgress.  
A well built ship he needs, that ventures there:  
Comest thou from Troy but now? enforced to err  
All this time with thy soldiers? Nor hast seen,  
Ere this long day, thy Country, and thy Queen?  
I answered; That a necessary end  
To this infernal state, made me contend;  
That from the wise Tiresias Theb●● Soul,  
I might, an Oracle, involved, unrowle:  
For I came nothing near Achaia y●t;  
Nor on our loved earth, happy foot had set;  
But (mishaps suffering) erred from Coast to Coast;  
Ever since first, the mighty Grecian host  
Divine Atrides, led to Ilium;  
And I, his follower, to set war upon  
The rapeful Trojans: and so prayed she would  
The Fate of that ungentle death unfold,  
That forced her thither: if some long disease;  
Or that the Spleen, of her that arrows please,  
(Diana, envious of most eminent Dames)  
Had made her th'object of her deadly aims?  
My Father's state, and sons, I sought; if they  
Kept still my goods? or they became the prey  
Of any other, holding me no more  
In power of safe return, or if my store  
My wife had kept together, with her Son?  
If she, her first mind held; or had been won  
By some chief Grecian, from my love, and bed?  
All this she answered; that Affliction fed  
On her blood still at home; and that to grief,  
She all the days, and darkness, of her life,  
In tears, had consecrate. That none possessed  
My famous kingdoms Throne; but th'interest  
My son had in it; still he held in peace.  
A Court kept, like a Prince; and his increase  
Spent in his subjects good; administering laws  
With justice, and the general applause  
A king should merit; and all called him king.  
My Father, kept the upland, labouring;  
And shunned the City: used no sumptuous beds;  
Wondered at furnitures; nor wealthy weeds;  
But, in the Winter, strewed about the fire  
Lay with his slaves in ashes; his attire  
Like to a beggars. When the Summer came;  
And Autumn all fruits ripened with his flame;  
Where Grape-charged vines, made shadows most abound,  
His couch with fallen leaves, made upon the ground:  
And here lay he; his sorrows fruitful state,  
Increasing, as he faded, for my Fate.  
And now, the part of age, that irksome is  
Lay sadly on him. And that life of his,  
She led, and perished in; not slaughtered by  
The Dame, that dartsloued, and her archery;  
Nor, by disease invaded, vast, and foul  
That wastes the body, and sends out the soul  
With shame and horror: only in her moan,  
For me, and my life; she consumed her own.  
She thus; when I, had great desire to prove  
My arms, the circle, where her soul did move;  
Thrice proved I, thrice she vanished, like a sleep;  
Or fleeting shadow, which struck much more deep  
The wounds, my woes made; and made, ask her why  
She would my Love to her embraces fly;  
And not vouchsafe, that even in hell we might,  
Pay pious Nature, her unaltered right,  
And give Vexation here, her cruel fill?  
Should not the Queen here, 
Proserpina or Persephon●.  to augment the ill  
Of every sufferance (which her office is)  
Enforce thy idol, to afford me this?  
O Son (she answered) of the race of men  
The most unhappy; our most equal Queen,  
Will mock no solid arms, with empty shade;  
Nor suffer empty shades, again t'invade  
Flesh, bones, and nerves: nor will defraud the fire  
Of his last dues; that, soon as spirits expire,  
And leave the white bone, are his native right;  
When, like a dream, the soul assumes her flight.  
The light then, of the living, with most haste  
(O Son) contend to: this thy little taste  
Of this state is enough; and all this life,  
Will make a tale, fit, to be told thy wife.  
This speech we had; 
The old Her●●sses appear to Ulysses.  when now repaired to me  
More female spirits; by Persep●●●●,  
Driven on before her. All t'heroes wives  
And daughters, that, led there their second lives,  
About the black blood thronged. Of whom, yet more  
My mind impelled me to inquire, before  
I let them altogether taste the gore;  
For than would all have been dispersed, and gone,  
Thick as they came. I therefore, one by one  
Let taste the pit: my sword drawn from my Thy  
And stand betwixt them made; when, severally  
All told their stocks. The first that quenched her fire,  
Was Tyro, 
Tyr●.  issued of a noble Sire.  
She said she sprung from pure, 〈◊〉 bed;  
And Crethe●s, Son of Ae●lus did wed.  
Yet the divine flood E●ipeus, loved,  
Who much the most fair stream, of all floods moved.  
Near whose streams, Tyr● walking: Neptune came,  
Like Enipeus, and enjoyed the Dame:  
Like to a hill; the blue, and Snaky flood  
Above th'immortal, and the mortal stood;  
And hid them both; as both together lay,  
Just where his current, falls into the Sea.  
Her virgin waste, dissolved, she slumberd then;  
But when the God had done the work of men,  
Her fair hand gently wring; thus he said;  
Woman! Rejoice in our combined bed;  
For when the year hath run his circle, round  
(Because the God's loves, must in fruit abound)  
My love shall make (to cheer thy teeming moans)  
Thy one dear burden, bear two famous Sons;  
Love well, and bring them up: go home, and see  
That, though of more joy yet▪ I shall be free;  
Thou dost not tell, to glorify thy birth:  
Thy Love is Neptune shaker of the earth.  
This said; he plunged into the sea, and she  
(Begot with child by him) the light let see  
Great Pelias, and Neleus; that became  
In Ioues great ministry, of mighty fame.  
Pelias, in broad jolcus held his Throne,  
Wealthy in cattle; th'other royal Son  
Ruled sandy Pylos. To these, issue more  
This Queen of women to her husband bore▪  
Aeson, and Pheres, and Amythaon,  
That for his fight on horseback, stooped to none.  
Next her, I saw admired Antiope  
Asopus 
Antiope like Tyro.  daughter; who (as much as she  
Boasted attraction, of great Neptune's love)  
Boasted to slumber in the arms of jove:  
And two Sons likewise, at one burden bore,  
To that, her all-controlling Paramour:  
Amphion, and fair Z●thus; that first laid  
Great Thebes foundations; and strong walls conveyed  
About her turrets, that seven Ports enclosed.  
For though the Thebans, much in strength reposed,  
Yet had not they, the strength to hold their own,  
Without the added aids, of wood, and stone.  
Alcmene, 
Al●m●na.  next I saw; that famous wife  
Was to Amphytri●; and honoured life  
Gave to the Lion-hearted Hercule●,  
That was, of Ioues embrace, the great increase.  
I saw beside, proud Craeons' daughter there,  
Bright Megara; 
Megara.  that nuptial yoke did wear  
With Ioues great Son; who never field did try,  
But bore to him, the flower of victory.  
The mother then, of Oedipus, I saw,  
Fair Epicasta; 
Epicasta the mother of Oedipu●.  that beyond all law,  
Her own Son married, ignorant of kind;  
And, he (as darkly taken, in his mind)  
His mother wedded, and his father slew;  
Whose blind act, heaven exposed at length to view.  
And he, in all-loued Thebes, the supreme state  
With much moan managed; for the heavy Fate  
The Gods laid on him. She made violent flight  
To Pluto's dark house, from the loathed light;  
Beneath a steep beam, strangled with a cord;  
And left her Son, in life, pains as abhorred,  
As all the furies poured on her in hell.  
Then saw I Chloris, 
Chl●ris.  that did so excel  
In answering beauties, that each part had all;  
Great Neleus married her, when gifts not small,  
Had won her favour; termed by name of dower.  
She was of all Amphion's seed, the flower:  
(Amphion, called l●sides, that then  
Ruled strongly, Myni●an 〈◊〉)  
And now his daughter ruled the Pylean Throne;  
Because her beauty's Empire overshone.  
She brought her wise-awd husband, Neleus,  
Nest●r, much honoured; Peryclimenus,  
And Chromius; Sons, with sovereign virtues grac'●;  
But after, brought a daughter that surpassed;  
Rare-beautied Per●, so for form exact;  
That Nature, to a miracle, was racked,  
In her perfections, blazed with th'eyes of men.  
That made of all the Country's hearts, a chain,  
And drew them suitors to her. Which her Sire  
took vantage of; and (since he did aspire  
To nothing more, then to the broad-browd herd  
Of Oxen, which the common fame so rered,  
Owned by Iphiclus) not a man should be  
His Peros husband, that from Phylace,  
Those never-yet-driven Oxen, could not drive:  
Yet these; a strong hope held him to achieve;  
Because a Prophet that had never erred,  
Had said, that only he should be preferred  
To their possession. But the equal Fate  
Of God, withstood his stealth: inextricate  
Imprisoning Bands; and sturdy churlish Swains  
That were the Herdsmen; who withheld with chains  
The stealth attempter: which was only he  
That durst abet the Act with Prophecy;  
None else would undertake it; and he must:  
The king would needs, a Prophet should be just;  
But when some days and months, expired were,  
And all the Hours had brought about the year;  
The Prophet, did so satisfy the king  
(Iphiclus; all his cunning questioning)  
That he enfranchised him; and (〈◊〉 worst done)  
Ioues counsel made, th'all-safe conclusion.  
The saw I Leda; 
Leada,  (linked in nuptial chain  
With Tynd●rus) to whom, she did sustain  
Sons much renowned for wisdom; C●st●● one,  
That past, for use of horse, comparison;  
And Poll●x, that excelled, in whirlbat fight;  
Both these, the fruitful Earth bore; while the light  
Of life inspired them; After which, they found  
Such grace with jove, that both lived under ground,  
By change of days: life still did one sustain,  
While th'●ther died; the dead then, lived again,  
The living dying; both, of one self date,  
Their lives and deaths made, by the Gods and Fate.  
Iphemedia, 
Iph●medi●.  after Leda came,  
That did de●iue from Neptune too, the name  
Of Father to two admirable Sons:  
Life yet made short their admirations;  
Who God-opposed Otus had to name,  
And Ephialtes, far in sound of Fame.  
The prodigal Earth so fed them, that they grew  
To most huge stature; and had fairest hue  
Of all men, but Orion, under heaven;  
At nine years old, nine cubits they were driven  
Abroad in breadth, and sprung nine fathoms high.  
They threatened to give battle to the sky,  
And all th'Immortals. They were setting on  
Ossa upon Olympus; and upon  
Steep Ossa, levy Pelius, that even  
They might a highway make, with lofty heaven.  
And had perhaps performed it, had they lived  
Till they were Striplings. But Ioues Son deprived  
Their limbs of life; before th'age that begins  
The flower of youth; and should adorn their chins.  
Phaedra and Procris, 
Phaedra and Pr●cris.  with wise Minos' flam●,  
(Bright Ariadne) to the offering came.  
Whom whilom Theseus made his prize from Crete;  
That Athens sacred soil, might kiss her feet.  
But never could obtain her virgin Flower;  
Till, in the Sea-girt Dia, Diane's power  
Detained his homeward haste; where (in her Fane,  
By Bacchus witnessed) was the fatal wane  
Of her prime Glory. Maera, Clymene, 
Maera and Clymene.   
I witnessed there; and loathed Eryphile;  
That honoured 
* Amphiaraus was ●●r husband: whom she betrayed to his ruin at Thebes, for gold taken of Adrastus her brother.  gold more, than she loved her Spouse.  
But all th' He●oesses in Pluto's house,  
That then encountered me, exceeds my might  
To name or number; and Ambrosian Night  
Would quite be spent; when now the formal hours,  
Present to Sleep, our all-disposed powers.  
If at my ship, or here, my home-made vow,  
I leave for fit grace, to the Gods and you.  
This said; the silence his discourse had made,  
With pleasure held still, through the houses shade.  
When, white-armed Arete this speech began:  
Phaeacians! how appears to you this man?  
So goodly personed, and so matched with mind?  
My guest he is; but all you stand combined,  
In the renown he doth us. Do not then  
With careless haste dismiss him: nor the main  
Of his dispatch, to one so needy, maim;  
The Gods free bounty, gives us all just claim  
To goods enough. This speech, the oldest man  
Of any other Phaeacensian,  
The grave Hero, Echineus gave  
All approbation; saying: Friends! ye have  
The motion of the wise Queen; in such words,  
As have not missed the ma●ke; with which, accords  
My clear opinion. But Alcinous,  
In word and work, must be our rule. He thus;  
And then Alcinous said: This than must stand,  
If while I live, I rule in the command  
Of this well-skild-in-navigation State.  
Endure then (Guest) though most importunate  
Be your affects for home. A little stay  
If your expectance bear; perhaps it may  
Our gifts make more complete. The cares of all,  
Your due deduction asks; but Principal  
I am therein, the ruler▪ He replied:  
Alcinous! the most duly glorified,  
With rule of all; of all men; if you lay  
Commandment on me, of a whole years stay;  
So all the while, your preparations rise,  
As well in gifts, as 
* Venustè & sal●è dictum.  time: ye can devise  
No better wish for me; for I shall come  
Much fuller handed, and more honoured home;  
And dearer to my people: in who●e loves,  
The richer evermore the better proves.  
He answered: There is argude in your sight,  
A worth that works not men for benefit,  
Like P●ollers or Impostors; of which crew,  
The gentle black Earth feeds not up a few;  
Here and there wanderers, blanching tales and lies,  
Of neither praise, nor use: you move our eyes  
With form; our minds with matter, and our ●ares  
With elegant oration; such as bears,  
A music in the ordered history  
It lays before us. Not Demodocus,  
With swee●er strains hath used to sing to us,  
All the Greek sorrows, wept out in your own.  
But say; of all your worthy friends, were none  
Objected to your eyes; that Consorts were  
To ●lion with you? and served destiny there?  
This Night is passing long, unmeasured: none  
Of all my household would to bed yet: On,  
Relate these wondrous things. Were I with you;  
If you would tell me but your woes, as now,  
Till the divine Aurora showed her head,  
I should in no night relish thought of bed.  
Most eminent King, (said he) Times, all must keep;  
There's time to speak much, time as much to sleep.  
But would you hear still, I will tell you still,  
And utter more, more miserable ill,  
Of Friends then yet, that scap't the dismal wars,  
And perished homewards, and in household jars.  
Waged by a wicked woman. The chaste 
* Here he begins his other relation. Proserpin●.  Queen,  
No sooner made these Ladie-ghosts unseen,  
(Here and there flitting) but mine eyesight won  
The Soul of Agamemnon, (Atreus son)  
Sad; and about him, all his train of friends,  
That in Aegysthus house, endured their ends,  
With his stern Fortune. Having drenke the blood,  
He knew me instantly; and forth a flood  
Of springing tears gushed. Out he thrust his hands,  
With will t'embrace me; but their old commands,  
Flowed not about him; nor their weakest part.  
I wept to see; and moaned him from my heart.  
And asked▪ O Agamemnon! King of men!  
What sort of cruel death, hath rendered slain  
Thy royal person? Neptune, in thy Fleet?  
Heaven, and his hellish billows making meet,  
Rousing the winds? Or have thy men by land  
Done thee this ill; for using thy command,  
Past their consents, in diminution  
Of those full sha●es, their worths by lot had won,  
Of sheep or oxen? or of any town?  
In covetous strife, to make their rights, thine own,  
In men or women prisoners? He replied:  
By none of these▪ in any right, I died;  
But by Aegysthus, and my murderous wife,  
(Bid to a banquet at his house) my life  
Hath thus been reft me: to my slaughter led,  
Like to an Ox, pretended to be fed.  
So miserably fell I; and with me,  
My friends lay massacred: As when you see  
At any rich man's nuptials, shot, or feast,  
About his kitchen, white-toothed swine lie dressed.  
The slaughters of a world of men, thine eyes,  
Both private, and in press of enemies,  
Have personally witnessed; but this one,  
Would all thy parts have broken into moan:  
To see how strewed about our Cups and Cates,  
As Tables set with Feast, so we with Fates,  
All gashed and slain, lay; all the floor imbrued  
With blood and brain. But that which most I rued,  
Flew from the heavy voice, that Priam's seed,  
Cassandra breathed; whom, she that wit doth feed  
With baneful crafts, false Clytaemnestra slew,  
Close sitting by me; up my hand● I threw  
From earth to heaven; and tumbling on my sword,  
Gave wretched life up. When the most abhorred,  
By all her sex's shame, forsook the room;  
Nor deigned (though then so near this heavy home)  
To shut my lips, or close my broken eyes.  
Nothing so heaped is with impieties,  
As such a woman, that would kill her Spouse,  
That married her a maid. When to my house  
I brought her, hoping of her love in heart,  
To children▪ maids, and slaves. But she (in thouArt  
Of only mischief hearty) not alone  
Cast on herself, this foul aspersion;  
But loving Dames, hereafter, to their Lords  
Will bear, for good deeds, her bad thoughts and words.  
Alas (said I) that jove should hate the lives  
Of Atreus' seed, so highly for their wives.  
For Menelaus' wife, a number fell;  
For dangerous absence, thine sent thee to hell.  
For this, (he answered) Be not thou more kind  
Then wise to thy wife; never, all thy mind  
Let words express to her. Of all she knows,  
Curbs for the worst still, in thyself repose.  
But thou by thy wife's wiles, shalt lose no blood;  
Exceeding wise she is, and wise in good.  
Icarius daughter, chaste Penelope,  
We left a young Bride; when for battle, we  
Forsook the Nuptial peace; and at her breast,  
Her first child sucking. Who, by this hour, blest,  
Sits in the number of surviving men.  
And his bliss, she hath, that she can contain;  
And her blifse, thou hast, that she is so wise;  
For, by her wisdom, thy returned eyes  
Shall see thy son; and he shall greet his Sire,  
With fitting welcomes. When in my retire,  
My wife denies mine eyes, my sons dear sight;  
And, as from me, will take from him the light;  
Before she adds one just delight to life;  
Or her false wit, one truth that sits a wife.  
For her sake therefore, let my harms advise;  
That though thy wife be never so chaste and wise,  
Yet come not home to her in 
* This advice ●e foll●●●d at his coming home.  open view,  
With any ship, or any personal show.  
But take close shore disguised: nor let her know;  
For 'tis no world, to trust a ●oman now.  
But what says Fame? Doth my Son yet survive,  
In Orch●men, or Pylos? or doth live  
In Sparta, with his Uncle? yet I see  
D●uine Orestes is not here with me.  
I answered, ask: Why doth A●reus son▪  
Inquire of me? who yet arrived where none  
Could give to these news any certain wings?  
And 'tis absurd, to tell uncertain things.  
Such sad speech past us; and as thus we stood,  
With kind tears rendering unkind fortunes good;  
Achilles and Patroclus Soul appeared;  
And his Soul, of whom never ill was heard,  
The good Antilochus: and the Soul of him,  
That all the Greeks past, both for force and limb,  
Excepting the unmatched Aeacides,  
Illustrious Ajax. But the first of these,  
That saw, acknowledged, and saluted me,  
Was 
* Achill●s.  Thetis' conquering Son, who (heavily  
His state here taking) said: Unworthy breathe▪  
What act, yet mightier, imagineth  
Thy venturous spirit? How dost thou descend  
These under regions: where the dead man's end,  
Is to be looked on? and his foolish shade?  
I answered him: I was induced t'invade  
These under parts, (most excellent of Greece)  
To visit wise Tir●sias, for ad●●ce  
Of virtue to direct my voyage home  
To rugged Ithaca; since I could come  
To note in no place, where Achaia stood;  
And so lived ever, tortured with the blood  
In man's vain veins. Thou therefore (Thetis son)  
Hast equalled all, that ever yet have won  
The bliss the earth yields; or hereafter shall.  
In life, thy eminence was adored of all,  
Even with the Gods. And now, even dead, I see  
Thy virtues propagate thy Empery,  
To a renewed life of command beneath;  
So great Achilles 
Achilles of the next life.  triumphs over death.  
This comfort of him, this encounter found;  
Urge not my death to me, nor rub that wound;  
I rather wish, to live in earth a Swain,  
Or serve a Swain for hire, that scarce can gain  
Bread to sustain him; then (that life once gone)  
Of all the dead, sway the Imperial th'one.  
But say; and of my Son, some comfort yield;  
If he goes on, in first fights of the field;  
Or lurks for safety in the obscure Rear?  
Or of my Father, if thy royal ear  
Hath been advertisde, that the Phthian Throne,  
He still commands, as greatest Myrmidon?  
Or that the Phthian and Thessalian rage,  
(Now feet and hands are in the hold of Age)  
Despise his Empire? Under those bright rays,  
In which, heavens fervour hurls about the days;  
Must I no more shine his revenger now;  
Such as of old, the Ilium overthrow  
Witnessed my anger: th'universal host,  
Sending before me, to this shady Coast,  
In fight for Grecia. Could I now resort,  
(But for some small time) to my Father's Court;  
In spirit and power, as then: those men should find  
My hands inaccessible; and of fire, my mind,  
That durst, with all the numbers they are strong,  
Vnseate his honour, and suborn his wrong.  
This pitch still flew his spirit, though so low;  
And this, I answered thus: I do not know,  
Of blameless Peleus, any ●●ast r●port;  
But of your son, in all the utmost sort,  
I can inform your care wi●h truth; and thus:  
From Scyros, 
Ulysses' report of Neoptolemus the son of ●e●●lles.  princely Neoptol●●us,  
By Fleet, I conveyed to the Greeks; where he  
Was Chief, at both parts: when our gravity  
Retired to council; and our youth to fight.  
In council still (so fiery was Conceit,  
In his quick apprehension of a cause)  
That first he ever spoke; nor past the laws  
Of any grave stay, in his greatest haste.  
None would contend with him, that counselled last;  
Unless illustrious Nestor, he and I  
Would sometimes put a friendly contrary,  
On his opinion. In our fights, the press  
Of great or common, he would never seize;  
But far before fight ever. No man there,  
For force, he forced. He was slaughterer  
Of many a brave man, in most dreadful fight.  
But one and other, whom he reft of light,  
(In Grecian succour) I can neither name,  
Nor give in number. The particular fame,  
Of one man's slaughter yet, I must not pass;  
Eurypilus Telephides he was,  
That fell beneath him; and with him, the falls  
Of such huge men went, that they showed like 
* This place (and a number more) is most miserably mistaken by all translators and commentors.  whales▪  
Rampired abou●him. Neoptolemus  
Set him so sharply, for the sumptuous  
Favours of Mistresses, he saw him wear;  
For past all doubt, his beauties had no peer,  
Of all that mine eyes noted; next to one,  
And that was Memnon, Tithonus' Sunlike son.  
Thus far, for fight i●●publicke, may a taste  
Give of his eminence. How far surpassed  
His spirit in private; where he was not seen;  
Nor glory could be said, to praise his spleen;  
This close note, I excerpted. When we sat  
Hid in Epaeus horse; no Optimate  
Of all the Greeks there, had the charge to open  
And shut the 
* Th● 〈…〉 said.  Stratagem, but I. My scope  
To note then, each man's spirit, in a straight  
Of so much danger; much the better might  
Be hit by me, than others: as, provoked▪  
I shifted place still; when, in some I smoked  
Both privy tremble, and close vent of tears.  
In him yet, not a soft conceit of theirs,  
Could all my search see, either his wet eyes  
Plied still with wiping●; or the goodly guise,  
His person all ways put forth; in least part,  
By any tremble, showed his toucht-at heart.  
But ever he was urging me to make  
Way to their sally; by his sign to shake  
His sword hid in his scabbard; or his Lance  
Loaded with iron, at me. No good chance,  
His thoughts to Troy intended. In th'event,  
(High Troy depopulate) he made ascent  
To his fair ship, with prize and treasure store:  
Safe, and no touch, away with him he bore,  
Of far-off hurled Lance, or of close-fought sword,  
Whose wounds, for favours▪ War doth oft afford;  
Which he (though sought) missed, in wars closest wage;  
In close fights, Mars doth never fight, but rage.  
This made the soul of swift Achilles tread  
A March of glory, through the herbie mead;  
For joy to hear me so renown his Son;  
And vanished stalking. But with passion  
Stood th'other Souls struck: and each told his bane.  
Only the spirit 
* Ai●x the sonn● of Telamo●.  Telamonian  
Kept far off; angry for the victory  
I won from him at Fleet; though Arbit●ie  
Of all a Court of war, pronounced it mine,  
And Pallas self. Our prize were th'arms divine,  
Of great 
* Achill●s.  Aeacides; proposed t'our fames  
By his bright 
* The●is.  Mother, at his funeral Games.  
I wish to heaven, I ought not to have won;  
Since for those Arms, so high a he●d, so soon  
The base earth covered. Ajax, that of all  
The host of Greece, had person capital,  
And acts as eminent; excepting his,  
Whose arms those were; in whom was nought amiss.  
I tried the great Soul with soft words, and said:  
Ajax! great son of Telamonius; arrayed  
In all our glories! what? not dead resign  
Thy wrath for those cursed Arms? The Powers divine,  
In them forged a●● our banes; in thine own One;  
In thy grave fall, our Tower was overthrown.  
We mourn (for ever maimed) for thee as much,  
As for Achilles: nor thy wrong doth touch,  
In sentence, 
jupiter.  any, but Saturnius doom;  
In whose hate, was the host of Greece become  
A very horror. Who expressed it well,  
In signing thy Fate, with this timeless Hell.  
Approach then (King of all the Grecian merit)  
Repress thy great mind, and thy flamie spirit;  
And give the words I give thee, worthy ear.  
All this, no word drew from him; but less near  
The stern Soul kept. To other Souls he fled;  
And glid along the River of the dead.  
Though Anger moved him; yet he might have spoke;  
Since I to him. But my desires were struck  
With sight of other Souls. And then I saw  
Minos, 
〈◊〉.  that ministered to Death a law;  
And Ioues bright son was. He was set, and swayed  
A golden Sceptre; and to him did plead  
A sort of others, set about his Throne,  
In Pluto's wide-doored house; when straight came on,  
Mighty Orion, 
Orion.  who was hunting there,  
The herds of those beasts he had slaughtered here,  
In desert hills on earth. A Club he bore,  
Entirely steel, whos● virtues ne●er wore.  
● Tityus' 
Tityus.  I saw: to whom the glorious Earth  
Opened her womb, and gave unhappy birth;  
Upwards, and flat upon the Pavement lay  
His ample limbs; that spread in their display,  
Nine Acres compass. On his bosom sat  
Two Vultures, digging through his call of fat,  
Into his Liver, with their crooked beaks;  
And each by turns, the concrete entrail breaks,  
(As Smiths their steel beat) set on either side.  
Nor doth he ever labour to divide  
His Liver and their beaks; nor with his hand,  
Offer them off: but suffers by command,  
Of th'angry Thunderer; offering to enforce,  
His love Latona in the close recourse,  
She used to Pytho, through the dancing land,  
Smooth Panopaeus. I saw likewise stand,  
Up to the chin, amidst a liquid lake,  
Tormented Tantalus; yet could not slake  
His burning thirst. Oft as his scornful cup,  
Th'old man would taste; so oft 'twas swallowed up;  
And all the black earth to his feet descried;  
Divine power (plaguing him) the lake still dried.  
About his head, on high trees, clustering, hung  
Pears, Apples, Granets, Olives, ever young;  
Delicious ●igs, and many fruit trees more,  
Of other burden; whose alluring store,  
When th'old Soul strived to pluck, the winds from sight,  
In gloomy vapours, made them vanish quite.  
There saw I Sisyphus, 
Sisyphu●.  in infinite moan,  
With both hands heaving up a massy stone;  
And on his tiptoes, racking all his height,  
To wrest up to a mountain top, his freight;  
When priest to rest it there (his nerves quite spent)  
Down rushed the deadly Quarry: the event  
Of all his torture, new to raise again;  
To which, straight set his never rested pain.  
The sweat came gushing out from every Poor;  
And on his head a standing mist he wore;  
Reeking from thence, as if a cloud of dust  
Were raised about i●. Down with th●se was thrust,  
The Idol of the force of Hercules. 
H●●c●les.   
But his firm self, did no such Fate oppress;  
He feasting lives amongst th'immortal States;  
White-ankled Hebe, and himself, made mates,  
In heavenly Nuptials. Hebe, Ioues dear race,  
And junos'; whom the golden Sandals grace.  
About him flew the clamours of the dead,  
Like Fowle●; and still stooped cuffing at his head.  
He, with his Bow, like Night, stalked up and down;  
His shaft still nockt; and hurling round his frown,  
At thos● v●xt hoverers, aiming at them still;  
And still, as shooting out, desire to still.  
A horrid Bawdricke, wore he thwart his breast;  
The Thong all gold, in which were forms impressed,  
Where Art and Miracle, drew equal breaths,  
In Bears, Boars, Lions, Battles, Combats, Deaths.  
Who wrought that work, did never such before;  
Nor so divinely will do ever more.  
Soon as he saw, he ●new me; and gave speech:  
Son of Laertes; high in wisdoms reach;  
And yet unhappy wretch; for in this heart,  
Of all exploits achieved by thy desert,  
Thy worth but works out some sinister Fate.  
As I in earth did. I was generate  
By jove himself; and yet past mean, oppressed  
By one my far inferior; whose proud hest,  
Imposed abhorred labours, on my hand.  
Of all which, one was, to descend this Strand,  
And hale the dog from thence. He could not think  
An act that Danger could make deeper sink;  
And yet this depth I drew; and fetched as high,  
As this was low, the dog▪ The Deity,  
Of sleight and wisdom, as of downright power,  
Both stooped, and raised, and made me Conqueror.  
This said; he made descent again as low  
As Pluto's Court; when I stood firm; for show  
Of more Her●es, of the times before;  
And might perhaps have seen my wish of more;  
(As Theseus and Pirithous, derived  
From roots of Deity) but before th'achieved  
Rare sight of these; the rank-souled multitude  
In infinite flocks rose; venting sounds so rude,  
That pale Fear took me, lest the Gorgon's head  
Rushed in amongst them; thrust up▪ in my dread,  
By grim Persephone. I therefore sent  
My men before to ship; and after went.  
Where, boarded, set, and launched; th'Ocean wave,  
Our Oars and forewinds, speedy passage gave.  
Finis libri undecimi Hom. Odyss.   

THE XII. BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
HE shows from Hell his safe retreat,  
To th' Isle A●●aea, Circe's seat.  
And how he scaped the Sirens calls.  
With th'erring Rocks, and waters falls,  
That Scylla and Chary●dis break.  
The suns stolen Herds; and his sad wreak▪  
Both of Ulysses' ship and men,  
His own head scaping sc●rce the pain.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

The Rocks that erred;  
The Sirens call;  
The suns stolen Herd;  
The soldiers fall.    
Our Ship now past the straits of th'Ocean flood;  
She ploughed the broad seas billows; and made good,  
The Isle Aeaea, where the Palace stands  
Of th'early Riser, with the rosy hands,  
Active Aurora; where she loves to dance;  
And where the Sun doth his prime beams advance.  
When here arrived; we drew her up to land,  
And trod ourselves the resaluted sand:  
Found on the shore, fit resting for the Night;  
Slept, and expected the celestial light.  
Soon as the white-and-red-mixt-fingerd Dame, 
Reditur ab inferis ad Circen.   
Had guilt the mountains with her Saffron flame;  
I sent my men to Circe's house before,  
To fetch deceased Elpenor to the shore.  
Straight swelled the high banks with field heaps of trees;  
And (full of tears) we did due Exequys  
To our dead friend. 
Elpenor tum●latur.  (Whose Corpse consumed with fire,  
And honoured Arms▪ whose Sepulchre entire;  
And ou●r that, a Column raised) his Ore,  
Curiously car●'d (to his desire before)  
Upon the top of all his Tomb, we fixed.  
Of all Rites fit, his Funeral Pile was mixed.  
Nor was our s●fe ascent from hell, concealed  
From Circe's knowledge; nor so soon revealed,  
But she was wi●h v●, with her bread and food,  
And ruddy wine, brought by her sacred brood  
Of woods and Fountains. In the midst she● stood,  
And thus saluted us: Unhappy men,  
That have (informed with all your senses) been  
In Pluto's dismal mansion. You shall die  
Twice now; where others that Mortality,  
In her fair arms▪ holds; shall but once decease.  
But eat and drink out all conceit of these;  
And this day dedicated to food and wine;  
The following Night to Sleep. When next shall shine  
The cheerful Morning; you shall prove the seas.  
Your way, and every act ye must address,  
My knowledge of their order shall design:  
Lest with your own bad counsels, ye incline  
Events as bad against ye; and sustain  
By sea and shore, the woeful ends that reign  
In wilful action's. Thus did she adui●e;  
And, for the time, our Fortunes were so wise,  
To follow wise directions. All that day  
We sat and feasted. When his lower way,  
The Sun had entered; and the Even, the hi●:  
My friends slept on their Gables; she and I,  
(Led by her fair hand, to a place apart,  
By her well sorted) did to sleep convert  
Our timed powers. When, all things Fate let fall  
In our affair, she asked; I told her all.  
To which she answered: These things thus took end:  
And now to those that I inform, attend:  
Which (you remembering) God himself shall be,  
The blessed author of your memory.  
First, 
Circe praesagit futura pet●cula.  to the Sirens ye shall come, that taint  
The minds of all men, whom they can acquaint  
With their attractions. Whosoever shall  
(For want of knowledge moved) 
Si●ena●um des●riptio.  but hear the call  
Of any Siren: he will so despise  
Both wife and children, for their sorceries,  
That never home turns his affection's stream;  
Nor they take joy in him, nor he in them.  
The Sirens will so soften with their song,  
(Shrill, and in sensual appetite so strong)  
His loose affections, that he gives them head.  
And then observe: They sit amidst a mead;  
And round about it ●unnes a h●dge or wall  
Of dead men's bones: their withered skins and all,  
Hung all along upon it; and these men  
Were such as they had fawned into their Fen,  
And then their skins hung on their hedge of bones.  
Sail by them therefore; thy companions  
Before hand causing to stop every ●are  
With sweet soft wax so close▪ that none may hear  
A note of all their charm. Yet may you  
(If you affect it) open ear allow  
To try their motion: but presume not so  
To trust your judgement; when your senses go  
So loose about you; but give strait command  
To all your men, to bind you foot and hand▪  
Sure to the Mast; that you may safe approve  
How strong in instigation to their love  
Their rapting tunes are. If so much they move,  
That, spite of all your reason, your will stands  
To be enfranchised, both of feet and hands;  
Charge all your men before, to slight your charge,  
And rest so far, from fearing to enlarge,  
That much more sure they bind you. When your friends  
Have outsaild these: the danger that transcends  
Rests not in any counsel to prevent;  
Unless your own mind, finds the tract and bend  
Of that way, that avoids it. I can say  
That in your course, there lies a twofold way;  
The right of which, your own, taught, present wit  
And grace divine, must prompt. In general yet  
Let this inform you: Near these Sirens shore  
Move two steep Rocks; at whose feet, lie and roar  
The black seas cruel billows: the blessed Gods  
Call them the Rovers. Their abhorred abodes  
No bird can pass: no not the * 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Columbae t●midae. What these D●ues were, and the whole mind● of this place: th● Great Macedo●●sking Ch●ron Am●hip●lites, he answered, They were the Pleiades or seven stars. One of which (besides his proper imperfection, of being 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. i. adeo exilis, vel subobscurus, ●t vi● apparent) is utterly obscured or let b● these Rocks. Why then, or how, jove still supplied the lost one, that the ●u●ber might be full: Athen●●● falls to it, and helps the other out: Interpreting it to be affirmed of their perpetual septenary number▪ though there appeared but six. But how lame and loathsome these prozers show in their affected expositions of the Poetical Mind, this and an hundred others▪ spent in mere presumptuous guess at this inaccessible Po●t; I hope will mak● plain● enough to the most envious of any thing done, besides their own set censures, and most arrogant over weenings. In the 23. of the Iliads, (being 't) at the Games celebrated ● at Patrocl●s fnerals, they tied t● the top of a Mast, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, ●imidam Columbam, to sh●●●● at for a ga●●: so that (by these great men's abovesaid expositions.) they sh●● at the Pleiades.  Doves, whose fear  
Sire jove so loves, that they are said to bear  
Ambrosia to him; can their ravin scape;  
But one of them, falls ever to the rape  
Of those sly rocks. Yet ●oue, another still  
Adds to the rest; that so may ever fill  
The sacred number. Never ship could shun  
The nimble peril winged there; but did run  
With all her bulk, and bodies of her men  
To utter ruin. For the seas retain  
Not only their outrageous aesture there;  
But fierce assistants, of particular fear,  
And supernatural mischief, they expire;  
And those are whirlwinds of devouring fire  
Whisking about still. Th' Argive ship, alone  
(Which bore the 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. Naui● omnibus Curae: the ship th●t ●●ld the c●re of all men, or of ●ll things: which our Critics will needs restrain, omnibus heroibus Po●tisom●ibus, vel Historicis, when the care of all men's preservation is affirmed to be the freight of it: 〈◊〉 if Po●ts and Historians comprehended all things, when I scarce know any that makes them any part of their care. But this likewise is garbige good enough for the monster. Nor will I tempt ●ur spiced consciences with expressing the diuin● mind it includes. Being ●fra●d to affirm any good of poor Po●s●e, since n● man gets any goods by it▪ And notwithstanding many of our bird-●●d starters 〈◊〉 profanation are for nothing s● afraid of it; as that lest their galled consciences (scarce believing the most real truth, in approbation of their lives) should be r●bbed with t●e confirmation of it, even in these contemned vanities (as their impieties please to call them,) which by much more learned and pious the● th●●selues, have ever been called the raptures of di●ine inspiration By which▪ Homo supra humanam n●turam erigitur, & in D●um transit▪ Plat.  care of all men) got her gone,  
Come from Aret●. Yet perhaps even she  
Had wracked at those Rocks; if the Deity  
That lies by Ioues side, had not lent her hand  
To their transmission; since the man that manned  
In chief that voyage, she, in chief did love.  
Of these two spiteful Rocks, the one doth shove  
Against the height of heaven, her pointed brow.  
A black cloud binds it round, and never show  
Lends to the sharp point: not the clear blue sky  
Le's ever view it. Not the Summoner's eye;  
Not fervent Autumns. None, that Death could end  
Could ever scale it; or if up, descend.  
Though twenty hands and feet he had for hold:  
A polished ice-like glibnesse doth enfold  
The rock so round, whose midst, a gloomy cell  
shrouds, so far Westward, that it sees to hell.  
From this, keep you as far, as from his bow  
An able young man can his shaft bestow.  
For here, the 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. Graviter vociferans; as all, most ●●truly translate i●. As they 〈◊〉 in the next ve●se, these words 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Catuli Leonis. No Lion being here dreamt of, n●r any vocifcr●tio●▪ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ signifying indignam, dissim●lem, or horribilem vocem edens: But in what kind horribilem? Not for the gra●itie or greatness of her voice, b●t for the rnworthy or disproportionable small▪ wh●ling of it: she being in the vast fr●●e of her body, as the eery words 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signify, monst●um ingens: whose disproportion and deformity, is too Poeticaley (and therein 〈◊〉) ordered, f●r fat and fla● Prozers to comprehend. N●r could they make the P●ets w●rds s●rue their comprehension; and therefore they add of their own, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ from whence 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is deri●ed▪ signifying crepo, or stridule clamo. And 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is to be expoanded, c●tuli ●uper or recen●●●ti, not Leonis. But thus they botch and ab●se the incomparable expressor: Because they knew ●ot how otherwise to be 〈◊〉 enough themselves, to help out the Monster. Imagining so huge a great body▪ must needs have a voice as huge: and the● would n●t our Homer ha●e likened it t● a Lion's whelps voice, but to the Lion's own: and all had been much too little, to make ● voice answerable to h●r hugeness. And therefore found our inimitable master, a ●ew way to express her monstrous disproportion: performing it so, as there can be ●i●il supra. And I would fain learn of ●y learned Detractor, that will needs have m● o●ely translate out of the Lative, what Latin translation tells me this? or what Graecian hath ever found this and a hundred other s●ch▪ Which may be some poor instance, or proof of my Graecian faculty, as far as ●ld H●m●r goes in his two simple Poems, but not a syllable further will my silly spirit presume.  whewling Scylla, shrouds her face:  
That breathes a voice, at all parts, no more base  
Than are a newly-kitned kitlings cries;  
Herself a monster yet, of boundless size;  
Whose sight would nothing please a mortals eyes;  
No nor the eyes of any God, if he  
(Whom nought should fright) fell foul on her; and she  
Her full shape show'd. Twelve foul feet bear about  
Her ugly bulk. Six huge long necks looked out  
Of her rank shoulders: every neck, doth let  
A ghastly head out: every head; three set  
Thick thrust together, of abhorred teeth;  
And every tooth stuck with a sable death.  
She lurks in midst of all her den; and streaks  
From out a ghastly whirlpool, all her necks;  
Where, (gloating round her rock) to fish she falls;  
And up rush Dolphins, Dogfish; somewhiles, Whale●,  
If got within her, when her rapine feeds;  
For ever-groning Amphitrite breeds  
About her whirlpool, an unmeasured store▪  
No Seaman ever boasted touch of shore  
That there touched with his ship; but still she fed  
Of him, and his. A man for every head  
Spoiling his ship of. You shall then descry  
The other humbler Rock, that moves so nigh,  
Your dart may meet the distance. It receives  
A huge wild Figtree, curled with ample leaves;  
Beneath whose shades, divine C●arybdis sits  
Supping the black deeps. Thrice a day her pi●s  
She drinking all dry; and thrice a day again,  
All, up she belches; baneful to sustain.  
When she is drinking, dare not near her draft,  
For not the force of Neptune, (if once caught)  
Can force your freedom. Therefore in your strife  
To scape Charybdis, labour all, for life  
To row near Scylla; for she will but have  
For her six heads, sixemen; and better save  
The rest, than all, make offerings to the wave.  
This Need she told me of my loss●, when I  
Desired to know, if that Necessity  
(When I had 'scaped Ch●r●bdis outrages)  
My powers might not revenge; though not redress?  
She answered: O unhappy! a●t thou yet  
Inflamed with war? and thirst to drink thy sweat?  
Not to the Gods give up, both Arms, and will?  
She, deathless is, and that immortal ill  
Grave, harsh, outrageous, not to be subdued,  
That men must suffer till they be renewed▪  
Nor lives there any virtue that can fly  
The vicious outrage of their cruelty.  
Shouldst thou put Arms on, and approach ●he Rock●▪  
I fear, six more must expiate the shock.  
Six heads, six men ask still. Hoist ●aile, and fly;  
And in thy flight, aloud, on Cratis cry  
(Great Scylla's Mother, who, exposed to light  
That bane of men;) and she will do such right  
To thy observance, that she, down will tread  
Her daughter's rage; nor let her show a head.  
From thenceforth then, for ever past her care;  
Thou shalt ascend, the I●e Triangulary;  
Where many Oxen of the Sun are fed;  
And fatted flocks. Of Oxen, fifty head  
In every herd feed; and their herds are seven;  
And of his fat flocks is their number, Even.  
Increase they yield not, for they never die;  
There every shepherdess, a Deity.  
Fair Phaethusa, and Le●petie,  
The lovely Nymphs are, that their Guardians be.  
Who, to the daylights lofty-going flame  
Had gracious birthright, from the heavenly Dame  
Still young Neaera; who (brought forth and bred)  
far off dismissed them; to see duly fed  
Their Father's herds and flocks in Sicily.  
These herds, and flocks, if to the Deity  
Ye leave, as sacred things, untouched; and on  
Go with all fit care of your home, alone,  
(Though through some sufferance) you yet sase shall land  
In wished Ithac●. But if impious hand  
You lay on those herds to their hurts: I then  
Presage sure ruin, to thy ●hip and men.  
If thou escap'st thyself, extending home  
Thy longed for landing; thou shalt loaded come  
With store of losses, most exceeding late,  
And not consorted with a saved mate.  
This said; the golden-throned Aurora rose;  
She, her way went, and I did mine dispose  
Up to my ship; weighed Anchor, and away.  
When reverend Circe; helped us to convey  
Our vessel safe, by making well inclined  
A Sea man's true companion, a forewind;  
With which she filled our sails, when, fitting all  
Our Arms close by us; I did sadly fall  
To grave relation, what concerned in Fate  
My friends to know, and told them that the state  
Of our affairs success, which Circe had  
Presaged to me alone, must yet be made  
To one, nor only two known; but to all:  
That since their lives and deaths were left to fall  
In their elections; the●●ight life elect,  
And give what would preserve it, fit effect.  
I first informed them, that we were to fly  
The heavenly-singing Sire●s harmony,  
And flowre-adorned Meadow▪ And that I  
Had charge to hear their song; but f●tte●d ●●st  
In bands, vnfauored, to th'erected Mast;  
From whence, if I should pray; or use command  
To be enlarged; they should with much more ●and  
Contain my strugglings. This I simply told  
To each particular; nor would withhold  
What most enjoined mine own affections stay,  
That theirs the rather might be taught t'obey.  
In mean time, flew our ships; and strait we fetched  
The Sirens Isle; a spleenelesse wind, so stretched  
Her wings to waft us, and so urged our keel.  
But having reached this Isle, we could not ●eele  
The least gasp of it: it was stricken dead,  
And all the Sea, in prostrate slumber spread:  
The Sirens devil charmed all. Up then flew  
My friends to work; struck sail, together drew,  
And under hatches stowed them: sat, and plied  
Their polished oars; and did in curls divide  
The white-head waters. My part then came on;  
A mighty waxen Cake, I set upon;  
Chopped it in fragments, with my sword; and wrought  
With strong hand, every piece, till all were soft.  
The great power of the Sun, in such a beam  
As then flew burning from his Diadem,  
To liquefaction helped us. Orderly,  
I stopped their ears; and they, as fair did ply  
My feet, and hands with cords; and to the Mast  
With other hawsers, made me sound fast.  
Then took they seat; and forth our passage struck;  
The foamy Sea, beneath their labour shook.  
Rowed on, in reach of an erected voice;  
The Sirens soon took note, without our noise;  
Tuned those sweet accents, that made charms so strong;  
And these learned numbers, made the Sirens song:  
Come here, thou, worthy of a world of praise;  
That dost so high, the Grecian glory raise;  
Ulysses! stay thy ship; and that song hear  
That none past ●uer, but it bent his ear:  
But left him r●uish, and instructed more  
By us, than any, ever heard before.  
For we know all things whatsoever were  
In wide Troy laboured▪ whatsoever there  
The Grecians and the Troyans' both sustained;  
By those high issues that the Gods ordained.  
And whatsoever, all the earth can show  
T'inform a knowledge of desert, we know.  
This they gave accent in the sweetest strain  
That ever opened an enamoured vain.  
When, my constrained heart, needs would have mine ear  
Yet more delighted; force way forth, and hear.  
To which end I commanded, with all sign  
Stern looks could make (for not a joint of mine  
Had power to stir) my friends to rise, and give  
My limbs free way. They freely strived to drive  
Their ship still on. When (far from will to lose)  
Eurylochus, and Perimedes rose  
To wrap me surer; and oppressed me more  
With many a halser, than had use before.  
When, rowing on, without the reach of sound;  
My friends unstopped their ears; and me, unbound;  
And, that I'll quite we quitted. But again  
Fresh fears employed us. I beheld a main  
Of mighty billows, and a smoke ascend:  
A horrid murmur hearing. Every friend  
Astonished sat: from every hand, his oar  
Fell quite forsaken: with the dismal Roar  
Where all things there made Echoes, stone still stood  
Our ship itself: because the ghastly flood  
took all men's motions from her, in their own:  
I, through the ship went, labouring up and down  
My friends recovered spirits. One by one  
I gave good words, and said: That well were known  
These ills to them before: I told them all;  
And that those could not prove, more capital  
Than those the Cyclops blocked us up in; yet  
My virtue, wit, and heaven-helpt Counsels, set  
Their freedoms open. I could not believe  
But they remembered it, and wished them give  
My equal care, and means, now equal trust:  
The strength they had, for stirring up, they must  
Rouse, and extend, to try if jove had laid  
His powers in theirs up, and would add his aid  
To scape even that death. In particular then  
I told our Pilot, that past other men  
He, most must bear firm spirits; since he swayed  
The Continent, that all our spirits conveyed  
In his whole guide of her. He saw there boil  
The fiery whirlpooles; that to all our spoil  
Enclosed a Rock: without which, he must steer,  
Or all our ruins stood concluded there.  
All heard me, and obeyed; and little knew  
That, shunning that Rock, six of them should rue  
The wrack▪ another hid. For I concealed  
The heavy wounds that never would be healed,  
To be by Scylla opened; for their fear  
Would then have robbed all, of all care to steer;  
Or stir an oar, and made them hide beneath:  
When they, and all▪ had died an idle death.  
But then, even I forgot to shun the harm  
Circe forewarned: who willed I should not arm,  
Nor show myself to S●ylla, lest in vain  
I ventured life. Yet could not I contain  
But armed at all parts; and two lances took:  
Up to the foredecke went, and thence did look  
That Rocky Scylla would have first appeared,  
And taken my life, with the friends I feared.  
From thence yet, no place could afford her sight;  
Though through the dark rock, mine eye threw her light,  
And ransacked all ways. I than took a straight  
That gave myself, and some few more receipt  
Twixt Scylla, and Charybdis; whence we saw  
How horridly Charybdis throat did draw  
The brackish sea up, which, when all abroad  
She spit again out: never Cauldron sod  
With so much fervour, fed with all the store  
That could enrage it. All the Rock did roar  
With troubled waters: round about the tops  
Of all the steep crags, flew the foamy drops.  
But, when her draft, the sea and earth dissunderd,  
The troubled bottoms turned up, and she thundered;  
far under shore, the swart sands naked lay.  
Whose whole stern sight, the startled blood did fray  
From all our faces. And while we on her  
Our eyes bestowed thus, to our ruins fear;  
Six friends had Scylla snatched out of our keel,  
In whom, most loss, did force and virtue feel.  
When looking to my ship, and lending eye  
To see my friends estates, their heels turned high,  
And hands cast up, I might discern; and hear  
Their calls to me for help, when now they were  
To try me in their last extremities.  
And as an Angler, medicine for surprise  
Of little fish, sits pouring from the rocks,  
From out the crooked horn, of a fold-bred Ox;  
And then with his long Angle, hoists them high  
Up to the Air; then slightly hurls them by,  
When, helpless sprawling on the land they lie:  
So easily Scylla to her Rock had rapt  
My woeful friends; and so unhelpt, entrapped  
Struggling they lay beneath her violent rape;  
Who in their tortures, desperate of escape;  
Shrieked as she tore; and up, their hands to me  
Still threw for swee●e life. I did never see  
In all my sufferance ransacking the seas,  
A spectacle so full of miseries.  
Thus having fled these rocks (these cruel dames  
Scylla, Charybdis.) where the king of flames  
Hath offerings burnt to him; our ship put in  
The Island, that from all the earth doth win  
The Epithet, Faultless: where the broad of head  
And famous Oxen, for the Sun are fed,  
With many fat flocks of that high-gone God.  
Set in my ship, mine ear reached, where we rod  
The bellowing of Oxen, and the bleat  
Of fleecy sheep; that in my memory's seat  
Put up the forms, that late had been impressed  
By dread Aeaean Circe; and the best  
Of Souls, and Prophets, the blind Theb●● Seer;  
The wise Tiresias, who was grave decreer  
Of my returns whole means. Of which, this one  
In chief he urged; that I should always shun  
The Island of the Man-delighting Sun.  
When, (sad at heart for our late loss) I prayed  
My friends to hear fit counsel, (though dismayed  
With all ill fortunes) which was given to me  
By Circe's, and Tiresias Prophecy;  
That I should fly the I'll, where was adored  
The Comfort of the world: for ills, abhorred  
Were ambushed for us there; and therefore, willed  
They should put off, and leave the I'll. This killed  
Their tender spirits; when Eurylochu●  
A speech that vexed me uttered; answering thus:  
Cruel Ulysses! Since thy nerves abound  
In strength, the more spent; and no toils confound  
Thy able limbs, as all beat out of steel;  
Thou ablest us to, as unapt to feel  
The teeth of Labour, and the spoil of Sleep,  
And therefore still, wet wast us in the deep;  
Nor let us land to eat; but madly, now;  
In Night, put forth, and leave firm land to strew  
The Sea with errors. All the rabide flight  
Of winds that ruin ships, are bred in Night.  
Who is it, that can keep off cruel Death,  
If suddenly should rush out th'angry breath  
Of Notus, or the eager-spirited West?  
That cuff ships, dead; and do the Gods their best!  
Serve black Night still, with shore, meat, sleep, and ease;  
And offer to the Morning for the seas.  
This all the rest approved; and then knew I  
That past all doubt, the devil did apply  
His slaughterous works. Nor would they be withheld;  
I was but one; nor yielded, but compelled.  
But all that might contain them, I assayed:  
A sacred oath, on all their powers I laid;  
That if with herds, or any richest flocks  
We chanced t'encounter; neither sheep, nor Ox  
We once should touch; nor (for that constant ill  
That follows folly) scorn advice, and kill:  
But quiet sit us down, and take such food  
As the immortal Circe had bestowed.  
They swore all this, in all severst sort;  
And then we ancord, in the winding Port;  
Near a fresh River, where the longd● for shore  
They all flew out to; took in victles store;  
And, being full, thought of their friends, and wept  
Their loss by Scylla; weeping till they slept.  
In Night's third part; when stars began to stoop;  
The Cloud-assembler, put a Temp'st up.  
A boisterous spirit he gave it; drove out all  
His flocks of clouds; and let such darkness fall,  
That Earth, and Seas for fear, to hide were driven;  
For, with his clouds, he thrust out Night from heaven.  
At Morn, we drew our ships into a cave;  
In which the Nymphs, that Phoebus' cat-tail drove;  
Fair, dancing Rooms had, and their seats of State.  
I urged my friends then, that to shun their Fate,  
They would observe their oath; and take the food  
Our ship afforded; nor attempt the blood  
Of those fair Herds and Flocks; because they were,  
That dreadful Gods, that all could see, and hear.  
They stood observant, and in that good mind  
Had we been gone: but so adverse the wind  
Stood to our passage, that we could not go.  
For o●e whole month, perpetually did blow  
Impetuous Notus; not a breaths repair  
But his, and Eurus, ruled in all the Air.  
As long yet, as their ruddy wine, and bread  
Stood out amongst them; so long, not a head  
Of all those Oxen, fell in any strife  
Amongst those students for the gut, and life.  
But when their victles failed, they fell to prey:  
Necessity compelled them then, to stray  
In rape of fish, and fowl: what ever came  
In reach of hand or 〈◊〉▪ the bellies flame  
Afflicted to it. I then, fell to praire;  
And (making to a close Retreat, repair  
Free from, both friends, and winds) I washed my hands,  
And all the Gods besought, that held commands  
In liberal heaven; to yield some mean to stay  
Their desperate hunger; and set up the way  
Of our return restrained. The Gods, in steed  
Of giving what I prayed for, power of deed;  
A deedless sleep, did on my lids distill,  
For mean to work upon, my friends their fill.  
For, whiles I slept, there waked no mean to curb  
Their headstrong wants; which he that did disturb  
My rule, in chief, at all times; and was chief  
To all the rest in counsel to their grief;  
Knew well, and of, my present absence took  
His fit advantage; and their iron struck  
At highest heat. For (feeling their desire  
In his own Entrails, to allay the fire  
That Famine blew in them) he thus gave way  
To that affection: Hear what I shall say,  
(Though words will staunch no hunger) every death  
To us poor wretches, that draw temporal breathe,  
You know, is hateful; but all know, to die  
The Death of Famine, is a misery  
Past all Death loathsome. Let us therefore take  
The chief of this fair herd; and offerings make  
To all the Deathless that in broad heaven live;  
And, in particular, vow, if we arrive  
In natural Ithaca, to straight erect  
A Temple to the haughty in aspect;  
Rich, and magnificent, and all within  
Deck it with Relics many, and divine.  
If yet, he stands incensed, since we have slain  
His high-browd herd; and therefore will sustain  
Desire to wrack our ship: he is but one;  
And all the other Gods, that we atone  
With our divine Rites, will their suffrage give  
To our designed return, and let us live.  
If not; and all take part, I rather crave  
To serve with one sole Death, the yawning wave;  
Then, in a desert Island, lie and starve;  
And, with one pined life, many deaths observe.  
All cried, He counsels nobly; and all speed  
Made to their resolute driving. For the seed  
Of those coal-black, fair, broad-browd, Sun-loued beeves:  
Had place, close by our ships. They took the lives  
Of sense, most eminent. About their fall  
Stood round, and to the States celestial  
Made solemn vows: But, other Rites, their ship  
Could not afford them; they did therefore strip  
The curld-head Oak, of fresh young leaves, to make  
Supply of service for their Barley cake.  
And, on the sacredly inflamed, for wine  
powered purest water; all the parts divine  
Spitting, and roasting: all the Rites beside  
Orderly using. Then did light divide  
My low, and upper lids; when, my repair  
Made near my ship; I met the delicate air  
Their roast exhaled. Out instantly I cried;  
And said, O jove, and all ye Deified,  
Ye have oppressed me with a cruel sleep;  
While ye conferred on me, a loss as deep  
As Death descends to. To themselves, alone  
My rude men, left ungovernd; they have done  
A deed so impious, (I stand well assured)  
That you will not forgive, though ye procured.  
Then flew Lempetie, with the ample rob,  
Up to her Father, with the golden Globe;  
Ambassadresse, t'inform him, that my men  
Had slain his Oxen. Heart-incensed then;  
He cried; Revenge me (Father, and the rest  
Both ever living, and for ever blest.)  
Ulysses' impious men, have drawn the blood  
Of those my Oxen, that it did me good  
To look on, walking, all my starry round;  
And when I trod earth, all with meadows crowned  
Without your full amends, I'll leave heaven quite;  
Dis, and the Dead, adorning with my light.  
The Cloud-herd answered; Son! thou shalt be ours,  
And light those mortals, in that Mine of flowers;  
My red hot flash, shall graze but on their ship,  
And eat it, burning, in the boiling deep.  
This by Calypso, I was told, and she  
Informed it, from the verger Mercury.  
Come to our ship; I chid, and told by name  
Each man, how impiously he was to blame.  
But chiding got no peace; the beeves were slain:  
When strait the Gods, forwent their following pain  
With dire Ostents. The hides, the flesh had lost,  
Crept, all before them. As the flesh did roast  
It bellowd like the Ox itself, alive.  
And yet my soldiers, did their dead beeves drive  
Through all these Prodigies, in daily feasts.  
Six days they banqueted, and slew fresh beasts,  
And when the seventh day, jove reduced the wind  
That all the monethraged; and so in did bind  
Our ship, and us; was turned, and calmed; and we  
Launched, put up Masts; sails hoist, and to Sea.  
The Island left so far; that land no where;  
But only sea, and sky, had power t'appear;  
jove fixed a cloud above our ship; so black  
That all the sea it darkened. Yet from wrack  
She ran a good free time: t●ll from the West  
Came Zephyre ruffling forth; and put his breast  
Out, in a singing tempest; so most vast,  
It burst the Gables, that made sure our Mast;  
Our Masts came tumbling down: our cattle down,  
Rushed to the Pump: and by our Pilots crown  
The main Mast, past his fall; pashed all his Skull,  
And all this wrack, but one flaw, made at full.  
Off from the Stern, the Sternesman, diving fell,  
And from his sinews, flew his Soul to hell.  
Together, all this time, Ioues Thunder chid;  
And through, and through the ship, his lightning glid:  
Till it embraced her round: her bulk was filled  
With nasty sulphur; and her men were killed:  
Tumbled to Sea, like Seamews swum about,  
And there the date of their return was out.  
I tossed from side to side still, till all broke  
Her Ribs were with the storm: and she did choke  
With letin Surges; for, the Mast torn down;  
Tore her up pecemeale; and for me to drown  
Left little undissolved. But to the Mast  
There was a leather Thong left; which I cast  
About it, and the keel; and so sat tossed  
With baneful weather, till the West had lost  
His stormy tyranny. And then arose  
The South, that bred me more abhorred woes;  
For back again his blasts expelld me, quite  
On ravenous Charybdis. All that Night  
I tottered up and down, till Light, and I  
At Scylla's Rock encountered; and the nigh  
Dreadful Charybdis. As I drove on these,  
I saw Charybdis, supping up the seas;  
And had gone up together, if the tree  
That bore the wild figs, had not rescued me;  
To which I leapt, and left my keel; and hi●  
Chambering upon it, did as close imply  
My breast about it, as a Reremouse could:  
Yet, might my feet, on no stub fasten hold  
To ease my hands: the roots were crept so low  
Beneath the earth; and so aloft did grow  
The far-spred arms, that (though good height I got)  
I could not reach them. To the main Bowl, flat  
I therefore still must cling; till up again  
She belched my Mast, and after that, amain  
My keel came tumbling: so at length it chanced,  
To me, as to a judge; that long advanced  
To judge a sort of hot young fellows jars,  
At length time frees him from their civil wars;  
When, glad, he riseth, and to dinner goes;  
So time, at length, released with joys my woes,  
And from Charybdis mouth, appeared my keel.  
To which (my hand, now loosed; and now, my heel)  
I altogether, with a huge noise, dropped;  
Just in her midst fell, where the Mast was propped;  
And there rowed off, with owers of my hands.  
God, and Man's Father, would not, from her sands  
Let Scylla see me; for I then had died  
That bitter death, that my poor friends supplied.  
Nine Days at Sea, I hovered: the tenth Night  
In th'isle Ogygia, where about the bright  
And right renoum'd Calypso, I was cast  
By power of Deity; Where I lived embraced  
With Love, and feasts. But why should I relate  
Those kind occurrents? I should iterate  
What I in part, to your chaste Queen and you  
So late imparted. And for me to grow  
A talker over of my tale again,  
Were past my free contentment to sustain.  
Finis duodecimi libri Hom. Odyss. Opus novem dierum. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

THE THIRTEENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
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Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  

〈…〉  
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HE said; And silence all their Tongues contained  
(In admiration) 〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
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〈…〉  
〈…〉  
To my high-rooft, and Brasse-foundationed hou●●:  
I hope, such speed, and pass 〈◊〉  
Our Loves shall yield you, that you shall no more  
Wander, nor suffer, homewards, as before.  
You then, whoever, that are ever graced  
With all choice of authorized power, to taste  
Such wine with me, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. quod pro Honorario senibus datur And because the word so englished, 〈◊〉 no o ●her to express it, sounding well, & helping our Language, it is her● 〈◊〉.  as warms the sacred Rage;  
And is an Honorarie given to Age.  
With which, ye likewise, hear Divinely sing  
(In honours praise) the Poet of the King:  
I move, by way of my command, to this;  
That where, in an elaborate Chest, there lies  
A Present for our Guest: Attires of price;  
And Gold, engraven with infinite device:  
I wish that each of us should add beside  
A Tripod, and a Cauldron, amplified  
With size, and metal of most rate, and great.  
For we (in counsel of taxation, met)  
Will from our Subjects, gain their worth again;  
Since 'tis unequal one man should sustain  
A charge so weighty, being the grace of all;  
Which, borne by many, is a weight but small.  
Thus spoke Alcinous, and pleased the rest;  
When each man closed, with home, & sleep, his feast.  
But when the colour-giving light arose;  
All, to the Ship, did 
* Intending in chief the Senators, with every m●ns addition of gift.  all their speeds dispose;  
And wealth (that 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Bene-honestos-faciensaes.  honest men makes) brought with them.  
All which; even he, that wore the Diadem  
Stowed in the Ship himself, beneath the seats  
The Rowers sat in; stooping, le●t their le●s  
In any of their labours, he might pro●e.  
Then home he turned: and after him, did move  
The whole assembly to expected 〈◊〉.  
Amongst whom, he a sacrifice 〈◊〉.  
And slew an Ox, to weather-wielding 〈◊〉;  
Beneath whose Empire, all things are, and move.  
The thighs then roasting, they made glorious cheer,  
Delighted highly; and amongst them there,  
The honoured of the people used his v●ice,  
Divine Demodocus. Yet through this choice  
Of Cheer, and Music, had Vl●sses still  
An Eye directed to the 〈◊〉 hill,  
To see Him rising, that illustrates all.  
For now into his mind, a fire did fall  
Of thirst for home▪ And as in hungry vow  
To needful food, a man at fixed Blow;  
(To whom, the black Ox all day long hath turned  
The stubborn fallows up; his stomach burned  
With empty heat, and appetite to food;  
His knees afflicted with his spirit-spent blood)  
At length the long-expected Sunset sees;  
That the may sit to food, and rest his knees:  
So, to Ulysses, set the friendly light  
The Sun afforded, with as wish'●a ●ight.  
Who, strait bespoke, that Ore-affecting State:  
But did in chief, his speech appropriate  
To him by Name, that with their Rule was crowned,  
Alcinous? Of all men, most renowned, 
Ulysses' to Alcinous.   
Dismiss me, with as safe pass, as you vow;  
(Your offering past) and may the Gods to you  
In all contentment, use as full a hand:  
For now, my landing here, and stay shall stand  
In all perfection with my hearts desire;  
Both my so safe deduction to aspire;  
And loving gifts; which, may the Gods to me,  
As blest in use make, as your acts are free:  
Even to the finding firm, in love, and life,  
With all desired event, my friends, and wife.  
When, as myself shall live delighted there;  
May you, with yourwives, rest as happy here:  
Your Sons and Daughters (in particular State)  
With every virtue rendered consummate:  
And, in your general Empire, may ill never  
Approach your Land; but good your good quit ever.  
This, all applauded, and all jointly cried;  
Dismiss the Stranger: he hath dignified  
With fit speech, his dismission. Then the King  
Thus charged the Herald: 
Alcinous to the Herald.  Fill for offering  
A bowl of wine: which through the whole large house  
Dispose to all men; that propitious,  
Our Father jove made, with our prayers; we may  
Give home our Guest, in full and wished way.  
This said; Pontonous commixed a Bowl  
Of such sweet wine, as did delight the soul:  
Which making sacred to the blessed Gods,  
That hold in broad heaven their supreme abodes;  
Godlike Ulysses, from his chair arose,  
And in the hands of th'empress, did impose  
The all-round Cup: 
Ulysses' to Arete.  To whom (fair spoke) he said;  
Rejoice, O Queen, and be your joys repaid  
By heaven, for me, till age and death succeed;  
Both which, inflict their most unwelcome need,  
On Men and Dames, alike. And, first (for me)  
I must from hence, to both: Live you here free;  
And ever may, all living blessings spring;  
Your joy in Children, Subjects, and your King.  
This said, divine Ulysses took his way:  
Before whom, the unalterable sway  
Of King Alcinous virtue, did command  
A Heralds fit attendance to the Strand  
And Ship appointed. With him, likewise went  
Handmaids, by Aretes injunction sent.  
One bore an Out and In-weede, fair and sweet;  
The other an embroidered Cabinet:  
The third, had Bread to bear, and ruddy wine;  
All which, (at Sea, and Ship arrived) resign,  
Their Freight conferred. With fair attendants then,  
The sheets and bedding of the Man of men,  
Within a Cabin of the hollow Keel,  
Spread, and made soft; that sleep might sweetly seel  
His restful eyes; He entered, and his Bed,  
In silence, took. The Rowers ordered  
Themselves in several seats: and then set gone  
The Ship; the Gable from the hollow stone  
Dissolved, and weighed up: Altogether, close  
Then beat the Sea. His lids, in swee●e repose  
Sleep bound so fast, it scarce gave way to breath;  
Inexcitable, 
The soundest epc of V●ysses. Similitude.  most dear, next of all to death.  
And as amids a fair field, four brave horse  
Before a Chariot, stung into their course  
With fervent lashes of the smarting Scourge;  
That all their fire blows high; and makes them urge  
To utmost speed, the measure of their ground:  
So bore the Ship aloft, her fiery Bound;  
About whom rushed the billows, black, and vast;  
In which the Sea-roares burst. As firm as fast  
She plied her Course yet: Nor her winged speed,  
The Faulcou gentle, could for pace, exceed.  
So cut she through▪ the waves, and bore a Man,  
Even with the Gods, in counsels; that began  
And spent his former life, in all misease:  
Battles of men, and rude waves of the Seas;  
Yet now, securely slept, forgetting all.  
And when heavens brightest star, that first doth call  
The early morning out, advanced her head;  
Then, near to Ithaca, the Billow-b●ed  
Ph●●●cian Ship approached. There is a Port,  
That th'aged Sea-God Ph●rcys makes his Fo●●: 
The description of Phor●ys Haven.   
Whose earth, the Ithace●si●● people own.  
In which, two Rocks inaccessible, are grown  
far forth into the Sea; whose each strength binds  
The boisterous waves in, from the high-flown winds  
On both the out-parts so, that all within  
The well-built Ships, that once their harbour win  
In his calm bosom; without Anchor, rest  
Safe, and vnstired. From forth the havens high crest,  
Branch the well-brawned arms of an Olive tree.  
Beneath which, runs a Cave, from all Sun free;  
Cool, and delightsome: Sacred to th' access  
Of Nymphs, whose sur-names are the 〈◊〉:  
In which, flew humming Bees; in which lay thrown  
Stone cups, Stone vessels, Shuttles, all of stone;  
With which, the Nymphs their purple Mantles wove:  
In whose contexture, Art and wonder strove.  
In which, pure Springs perpetually ran;  
To which, two entries were: the one for man,  
(On which the North breathed:) th'other, for the gods  
(On which, the South:) and that, bore no abodes  
For earthy men: But only deathless feet  
Had there free way. This Port, these men thought meet  
To Land Ulysses; being the first, they knew.  
Drew then, their Ship in: but no further drew  
Then half her bulk reach ●t: by such cunning hand  
Her course was managed. Then her men took land;  
And first, brought forth Ulysses: Bed, and all  
That richly furnished it; he still in thrall  
Of all-subduing sleep. Upon the sand  
They set him softly down; and then, the Strand  
They strewed with all the goods he had, bestowed  
By the renowned Phaeacians; sinc● he showed  
So much Minerva. At the Olive root  
They drew them then in heap, most far from foot  
Of any travailer: lest, ere his eyes  
Resumed their charge, they might be others prize.  
These, than turned home: nor was the seas supreme  
Forgetful of his threats, for Polypheme  
Bent at divine Ulysses: yet would prove  
(Ere their performance) the decree of jove▪  
Father! 
Neptune to jupiter.  No more the Gods shall honour me,  
Since men despise me; and those men that see  
The 
* The Phaeacians were descended Originally from Neptune.  Light, in Lineage of mine own loved race.  
I vowed Ulysses, should before the grace  
Of his return, encounter woes enough  
To make that purchase dear: yet, did not vow  
Simply against it, since thy Brow had bend  
To his reduction; in the fore-consent  
Thou hadst vouchsafed it: yet before, my mind  
Hath full power on him; the Phaeacians find  
Their own minds satisfaction, with his Pass:  
So far from suffering, what my pleasure was;  
That ease, and softness, now is habited  
In his secure breast: and his careless head,  
Returned in peace of sleep to Ithaca.  
The Brass and Gold of rich Phaeacia  
Rocking his Temples. Garments richly woven;  
And worlds of Prize more, than was ever striven  
From all the conflicts he sustained at Troy,  
If safe, he should his full share there, enjoy.  
The Showre-dissoluer answered: 
jupiter to Neptun●.  What a speech  
Hath passed thy palate, O thou great in Reach  
Of wrackful Empire? far the Gods remain  
From scorn of thee: For, 'twere a work of pain  
To prosecute, with ignonimies, One  
That sways our ablest, and most ancient Throne.  
For men; If any so beneath in power,  
Neglect thy high will: now, or any hour  
That moves hereafter; take revenge to the●;  
Sooth all thy will, and be thy pleasure free.  
Why then (said he) thou blacker of the fumes  
That dim the Sun; 
Neptune to jupiter.  my licensed power resumes  
Act from thy speech: but I observe so much,  
And fear thy pleasure, that I dare not touch  
At any inclination of mine own,  
Till thy consenting influence be known.  
But now; this curious-built Ph●aci●● Ship,  
Returning from her Convoy, I will strip  
Of all her fleeting matter; and to stone  
Transform and fix it (just when she hath gone  
Her full time home; and jets before their 〈◊〉  
In all her trim) amids the Sable Seas.  
That they may cease to convoy strangers still,  
When they shall see, so like a mighty Hill  
Their glory stick before their City's grace,  
And my 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Superinijcio aliquid, tanquam tegmen seu operi●entum.  hands cast a mask before her face.  
O friend, (said jove) it shows to me the best  
Of all earth's objects; that their whole press▪ dressed  
In all their wonder; near their Town shall stand  
And stare upon a Stone, so ne●re the Land,  
So like a Ship, and damn up all their lights,  
As if a Mountain interposed their sights.  
When Neptune heard this, he for Scherif went,  
Whence the Phaeacians took their first descent.  
Which when he reached, and in her swiftest pride,  
The water-treader, by the City's side  
Came cutting close; close he came swiftly on;  
took her in violent hand, and to a Stone  
Turned all her sylvan substance▪ All below,  
Firmed her with Roots, & left her. This strange show  
When the Phaeacians saw, they stupid stood,  
And asked each other, who amids the flood  
Could fix their Ship so, in her full speed home?  
And quite transparent, make her bulk become?  
Thus talked they; but were far from knowing how  
These things had issue. 
Alcinous tells his people how the Ship became a Stone.  Which their King did show,  
And said; O friends, the ancient Prophecies  
My Father told to me, to all our eyes  
Are now in proof: he said, the time would come,  
When Neptune, for our safe conducting home  
All sorts of Strangers (out of envy fired)  
Would meet our fairest Ship as she retired;  
And all the goodly Shape, and speed we boast,  
Should like a Mountain stand before us lost,  
Amids the moving waters; which we see  
Performed in full end to our prophesy.  
Hear then my counsel, and obey me then:  
Renounce henceforth our convoy home of men;  
Who ever shall hereafter gree●e our Town.  
And to th'offended Deities Renown;  
Twelve chosen Oxen let us sacred make,  
That he may pity us: and from us take  
This shady Mou●taine. They, in fear, obeyed;  
Slew all the beeves, and to the Godhead prayed:  
The Dukes and Princes, all ensphearing round  
The sacred Altar. While whose Tops were crowned,  
Divine Ulysses (on his Country's breast  
Laid bound in sleep) now rose out of his rest:  
Nor (being so long removed) the Region knew.  
(Besides which absence ye●) 〈◊〉 threw  
A cloud about him; to make strange the more  
His safe arrival: lest, upon his Shore  
He should make known his face, and utter all  
That might prevent, th'event that was to fall.  
Which she prepared so well, that not his wife  
(Presented to him) should perceive his life:  
No Citizen, no Friend; till righteous Fate  
Upon the wooers wrongs, 〈…〉.  
Through which cloud, all things s●ow'd now to the King  
Of foreign fashion. The 〈◊〉 Spring▪  
Amongst the Trees there. The perpetual waves;  
The Rocks, that did more high their foreheads raise  
To his Rapt eye, then naturally they did:  
And all the Haven, in which a man seemed hid  
From wind, & weather, when storms loudest chid.  
He therefore, being risen, stood and viewed  
His country earth: which (not perceived) he rued:  
And, striking with his hurled▪ down hands his Thighs,  
He mourned, and said: O me! Again where lies  
My desert way? To wrongful men, and rude?  
And with no Laws of human right indu'de?  
Or are they human, and of holy minds?  
What fits my deed with these so many kinds  
Of goods late given? What, with myself, will ●●oods  
And Errors do? I would to God, these Goods  
Had rested with their Owners: and that I  
Had fallen on Kings of more Regality,  
To grace out my return; that loved indeed,  
And would have given me Consorts of fit speed  
To my distresses ending! But, as now  
All knowledge flies me, where I may bestow  
My laboured purchase. here they shall not stay,  
Lest what I cared for, others make their prey.  
O Gods! I see, the great Phaeaci●●s then  
Were not all just, and understanding men;  
That land me elsewhere then their vaunts pretended:  
Assuring me, my country should see ended  
My miseries told them: yet now, eat their vaunts.  
O jove! great Guardian of poor Suppliants,  
That others sees, and notes too; shutting in  
All in thy plagues, that most presume on Sin,  
Revenge me on them. Let me number now  
The goods they gave, to give my mind to know  
If they have stolen none, in their close retreat.  
The goodly cauldrons then, and Tripods (set  
In several ranks from out the heap) he told.  
His rich wrought garments too, and all his Gold:  
And nothing lacked; and yet this Man did mourn,  
The but supposed miss of his home return.  
And, creeping to the shore, with much complaint;  
Minerva, 
Minerva like a Shepherd (such as King's sons used at those times to be) appear● to V●ysses.  (like a Shepherd, young, and acquaint,  
As King sons are: a double Mantle cast  
OF thwart his Shoulders, his fair goers graced  
With fitted shoes; and in his hand, a Dart)  
Appeared to him, whose sight reioy●'● his heart.  
To whom he came, and said: O Friend? Since first  
I meet your sight here: Be all good, the worst  
That can join our encounter: Fare you Fair;  
Nor with adverse mind, welcome my repair:  
But guard these goods of mine, and succour me.  
As to a God, I offer prayers to thee,  
And low access make, to thy loved knee.  
Say truth, that I may know, what country then?  
What common people live here? And what men?  
Some famous Isle is this? Or gives it vent  
(Being near the Sea) to some rich Continent?  
She answered; 
Pallas to Ulysses.  Stranger, what so ere you are;  
Y'are either foolish, or come passing far,  
That know not this Isle, and make that doubt, trouble;  
For 'tis not so exceedingly ignoble,  
But passing many know it: and so many,  
That, of all Nations, there abides not any,  
From where the Morning rises, and the Sun;  
To where the Even, and Night their courses run,  
But know this country. Rocky 'tis, and rough;  
And so, for use of horse unapt enough:  
Yet, with 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 1. Velut tri●tis, Ie●una●j, natura.  sad Barrenness not much infested,  
Since clouds are here in frequent rains digested,  
And flowery dews. The compass is not great;  
The little yet, well filled with wine, and wheat.  
It feeds a Goat, and Ox well; being still  
Watered with floods, that ever overfill  
With heavens continual showers: and woodded so,  
It makes a Spring of all the kinds that grow.  
And therefore, Stranger, the extended name  
Of this Dominion, makes access by Fame,  
From this extreme part of Achaia,  
As far as Ilium; and 'tis Ithaca.  
This joyed him much, that so unknown a Land,  
Turned to his country. Yet so wise a hand  
He carried, even of this joy, flown so high,  
That other end he put to his reply,  
Then strait to show that joy, and lay abroad  
His life to Strangers. Therefore, he bestowed  
A veil on Truth: For evermore did wind  
About his bosom, a most crafty mind,  
Which thus his words show'd. 
Ulysses' to Pall●s.  I have far at Sea,  
In spacious Crete, heard speak of Ithaca;  
Of which, myself (it seems) now reach the shore,  
With these my Fortunes; whose whole value more  
I left in Crete amongst my children there;  
From whence I fly, for being the slaughter●●  
Of royal Idomens' most loved Son▪  
Swift-foot Orsilochus, that could outrun  
Professed men for the race. Yet him I slew,  
Because he would deprive me of my▪ due  
In Trojan prize: for which, I suffered so  
(The rude waves piercing) the redoubled woe  
Of mind and body, in the wars of men:  
Nor did I gratify his Father then  
With any service; But, as well as he,  
Swayed in command of other Soldiery.  
So, with a friend withdrawn, we way-laide him,  
When gloomy Night, the cope of heaven did dim,  
And no man knew. But we (lodged close) he came,  
And I put out, to him, his vital flame.  
Whose slaughter, having authored with my sword,  
I instant flight made; and strait fell aboard  
A Ship of the renowned Phoenician State;  
When prayer, and pay, at a sufficient rate  
Obtained my Pass, of men in her command:  
Whom I enjoined to set me on the land  
Of Pylos, or of Elis, the divine,  
Where the Epeyans in great Empire shine.  
But force of weather checked that course to them,  
Though (loath to fail me) to their most extreme  
They spent their willing powers. But, forced from thence,  
We erred, and put in here, with much expense  
Of Care and Labour: and in dead of Night,  
When no man there, served any appetite,  
So much as with the Memory of food,  
Though our estates exceeding Needy stood.  
But, going ashore, we lay; when gentle sleep  
My weary powers invaded: and from Ship,  
They fetching these my Riches, with just hand  
About me laid them: while upon the sand  
Sleep bound my senses; and for Sydon, they  
(Put off from hence) made sail: while here I lay,  
Left sad alone. The Goddess laughed, and took  
His hand in hers; and with another look,  
(Assuming then the likeness of a 〈◊〉,  
Lovely and goodly, expert in the frame  
Of virtuous Huswiferies) she answered thus.  
He should be passing sly, 
Pallas to Ulysses.  and covetous  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 furandi auid●s.  Of stealth, in men's deceits, that quoted thee,  
In any craft; though any God should be  
Ambitious to exceed in subtlety.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. varia & multiplicia habens consilia.  Thou still-wit-varying wretch! Insatiate  
In over-reaches: Not secure thy state  
Without these wiles? Though on thy Native shore  
Thou setst safe footing? But upon thy store  
Of false words, still spend? That even from thy birth  
Have been thy best friends? Come: our either worth  
Is known to either: Thou, of Men, art far  
(For words and counsels) the most singular;  
But I, above the Gods, in both, may boast  
My still-tried Faculties. Yet thou hast lost  
The knowledge even of me: the seed of Io●e,  
Pallas Athenia; that have still out-strove  
In all thy Labours, their extremes; and stood  
Thy sure guard ever: making all thy good,  
Known to the good phaeaci●●s, and received.  
And now again, I greet thee, to see weaved  
Fresh Counsels for thee: and will take on me  
The close reserving of these goods for thee,  
Which the renowned phaeacian States bestowed  
At thy deduction homewards; Only moved  
With my, both spirit and counsel. All which grace  
I now will amplify, and tell what case  
Thy household stands in; uttering all those pains,  
That, of mere need, yet still must rack thy veins;  
Do thou then freely bear; Nor one word give  
To Man nor Dame, to show thou yet dost live:  
But silent, suffer over all again  
Thy sorrows past; and bear the wrongs of Men.  
Goddess (said he) unjust men, and unwise, 
〈…〉   
That author injuries, and vanities;  
By vanities and wrongs, should rather be  
Bound to this ill-abearing destiny,  
Then just, and wise men. What delight hath heaven,  
That lives unhurt itself, to suffer given  
Up to all damage, those poor few that strive  
To imitate it? and like the Deities live?  
But where you wonder, that I know you not  
Through all your changes; that skill is not got  
By slight or Art: since thy most hard-hit face,  
Is still distinguished by thy free-given grace.  
And therefore truly to acknowledge thee  
In thy encounters, is a mastery  
In men most knowing. For to all men, thou  
Tak'st several likeness. All men think they know  
Thee in their wits. But, since thy seeming view  
Appears to all; and yet thy truth, to few:  
Through all thy changes, to discern thee right,  
Asks chief Love to thee; and inspired light.  
But this, I surely know; that some years past,  
I have been often with thy presence graced,  
All time the sons of Greece waged war at Tr●y:  
But when Fates full hour, let our swords enjoy  
Our vows, in sack of 〈◊〉 lofty Town:  
Our Ships all boarded; and when God had blown  
Our Fleet in sunder, I could never see  
The seed of Io●e; Nor once distinguish thee  
Boarding my Ship, to take one woe from me.  
But only in my proper spirit involved,  
Erred, here and there quite slain; till heaven dissolved  
Me, and my ill: which chanced not, ●ill thy grace  
By open speech confirmed me; in a place  
Fruitful of people: where, in person, thou  
Didst give me guide, and all their City show;  
And that was the renowned 〈◊〉 earth.  
Now then; even by the author of thy Birth,  
Vouchsafe my doubt the Truth (for far it flies  
My thoughts; that thus should fall into mine eyes  
Conspicuous Ithaca: but fear I touch  
At some far Shore; and that thy wit is such,  
Thou dost delude me) Is it sure the same  
Most honoured earth, that bears my country's name?  
I see (said she) thou wilt be ever thus,  
In every worldly good, incredulous.  
And therefore, have no more the power, to see  
Frail life more plagued with infelicity;  
In one so eloquent, ingenious wise.  
Another man, that so long miseries  
Had kept from his loved home; and thus returned  
To see his house, wife, children; would have burned  
In headlong lust to visit. Yet t'inquire,  
What states they hold, affects not thy desire,  
Till thou hast tried: If in thy wife, there be  
A Sorrow, wasting days, and nights for thee,  
In Loving tears: That then the sight may prove  
A full reward, for either's mutual love.  
But I would never, credit in you both  
Least cause of sorrow; but well knew, the troth  
Of this thine own return: though all thy Friends,  
I knew, as well, should make returnlesse ends.  
Yet would not cross mine Uncle Neptune so  
To stand their safeguard; since so high did go  
His wrath, for thy extinction of the eye  
Of his loved son. Come then, I'll show thee why  
I call this Isle, thy Ithaca; To ground  
Thy credit on my words: this haven is owned  
By th'aged Sea god phor●ys: in whose Brow,  
This is the Olive with the ample bow;  
And here close by, the pleasant-shaded Cave,  
That to the Fount-Nymphs, th' 〈◊〉 gave  
As Sacred to their pleasures. here doth run  
The large, and covered den, where thou hast done  
Hundreds of Offerings to the 〈◊〉.  
Here, Mount Nerytus shakes his cur●●d Tress  
Of shady woods. This said, she cleared the cloud  
That first deceived his eyes; and all things showed  
His country to him. Glad he stood with sight  
Of his loved Soil; and kissed it, with delight.  
And instantly, to all the Nymphs he paid  
(With hands held up to heaven) these vows▪ & said.  
Ye Nymphs the Naiads, great seed of jove:  
I had conceit, that never more should move  
Your sight, in these spheres of my erring eyes;  
And therefore, in the fuller Sacrifice  
Of my heart's gratitude; Rejoice, till more  
I pay your Names, in Offerings, as before.  
Which here I vow; if Io●es benign descent  
(The mighty Pillager) with life convent  
My person home; and to my saved decease,  
Of my loved sons sight, add the sweet increase.  
Be confident (said Pallas) nor oppress  
Thy spirits with care of these performances;  
But these thy fortunes, let us strait repose  
In this divine caves bosom, that may close  
Reserve their value; and we then may see  
How best to order other acts to thee.  
Thus entered she the light-excluding Cave;  
And through it, sought some inmost nook to save  
The Gold, the great Brass, & robes richly wrought,  
Given to Ulysses. All which, in he brought;  
Laid down in heap; and she imposed a stone  
Close to the caverns mouth. Then sat they on  
The sacred olives root, consulting how  
To act th'insulting wooers overthrow.  
When Pallas said; Examine now the means  
That best may lay hand on the impudence  
Of those proud wooers: that have now three years  
Thy Roofs rule swayed; and been bold Offerers  
Of suit, and gifts, to thy renowned wife;  
Who for thy absence, all her desolate life,  
Dissolves in tears till thy desired return.  
Yet all her wooers, while she thus doth mourn  
She holds in hope; and every one affords  
(In fore-sent message) promise. But her words  
Bear other utterance than her heart approves.  
O Gods (said Ithacus) it now behoves  
My Fate to end me, in the ill decease  
That Agamemnon underwent, unless  
You tell me, and in time, their close intents.  
Advise then means, to the revenged events  
We both resolve on. Be thyself so kind  
To stand close to me; and but such a mind  
Breath in my bosom, as when th' Ilio● Towers  
We tore in Cinders. O if equal powers  
Thou wouldst inflame, amids my Nerves as then,  
I could encounter with three hundred men:  
Thy only self (great Goddess) had to friend,  
In those brave ardours thou were't wont t'extend.  
I will be strongly with thee, (answered she)  
Nor must thou fail, but do thy part with me.  
When both whose powers combine, I hope the bloods  
And brains of some of these that waste thy goods  
Shall strew thy goodly Pavements. join we then:  
I first will render thee unknown to men.  
And on thy solid Lineaments, make dry  
Thy now smooth skin. Thy bright-brown curls imply  
In hoary matting: thy broad shoulders cloth  
In such a cloak, as every eye shall loathe.  
Thy bright eyes, blear and wrinkle: and so change  
Thy form at all parts, that thou shalt be strange  
To all the Wooers; thy young son, and wife.  
But, to thy Herdsman first present thy life;  
That guards thy Swine, and wisheth well to thee;  
That loves thy son, and wife 〈◊〉.  
Thy search shall find him, set aside his Herd,  
That are with tast-delighting Acorns reared:  
And drink the dark-deep water of the Spring  
Bright Arethusa; the most nourishing  
Raiser of Herds. There stay, and (taking seat  
Aside thy Herdsman) of the whole State, treat  
Of home occurrents; while I make access  
To faire-dame-breeding Sparta: 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  for regress  
Of loved Telemachus: who went in quest  
Of thy loved fame; and l●u'd the welcome Guest  
Of Menelaus. The much-knower said:  
Why wouldst not thou (in whose grave breast is bred  
The Art to order all acts) tell in this  
His error to him? Let those years of his  
Amids the rude seas wander, and sustain  
The woes there raging? while unworthy men  
Devour his fortunes? Let not care extend  
Thy heart for him (said she) myself did send  
His person in thy search, to set his worth  
(By good fame blown) to such a distance fo●th.  
Nor suffers he, in any least degree  
The grief you fear: but all variety  
That Plenty can yield, in her quie●st fa●e,  
In Menelaus' Court, doth sit and share.  
In whose return from home, the Wooers yet  
Lay bloody ambush; and a Ship have set  
To Sea, to intercept his life before  
He touch again his births attempted shore.  
All which, my thoughts say, they shall never do,  
But rather, that the earth shall overgo  
Some one at least, of these Love-making men;  
By which thy goods, so much impair sustain.  
Thus using certain secret words to him,  
She touched him with her rod; and every limb  
Was hid all over with a withered skin:  
His bright eyes, bleared; his brow curls, white & thin;  
And all things did an aged man present.  
Then (for his own weeds) Shirt and coa●, all rent;  
Tanned, and all sootied, with noisome smoke,  
She put him on; and over all, a cloak  
Made of a Stags huge hide: of which was worn  
The hair quite off. A Scrip all patched and torn,  
Hung by a cord, oft broke, and knit again,  
And with a staff did his old limbs sustain.  
Thus having both consulted of th'event,  
They parted both: and forth to Sparta went  
The gray-eyed Goddess, to see all things done  
That appertained to wise Ulysses' son.  
The End of the Thirteenth Book of Homer's Odysseys.   

THE FOURTEENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
VLysses meets amids the Field  
His Swain Eumaeus; who doth yield  
Kind Guest-rites to him; and relate  
Occurrents of his wronged estate.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  

Ulysses feigns,  
for his true Good:  
His pious Swains  
faith understood.    
But he, the rough way took from forth the Port,  
Through woods, and hill tops, seeking the resort  
Where Pallas said, divine Eumaeus lived:  
Who, of the fortunes that were first achieved  
By Godlike Ithac●●, in household rights,  
Had more true care, than all his 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, materiae adhaerens: Item, qui rebus Mundani● deditus est.  Prosylites.  
He found him sitting in his Cottage door;  
Where he had raised to every airy Blore,  
A Front of great height; and in such a place,  
That round ye might behold: of circular grace  
A walk so wound about it: which the Swain  
(In absence of his farre-gone Sovereign)  
Had built himself, without his Queen's supply,  
Or old Laertes; to see safely lie  
His housed herd. The inner part, he wrought  
Of stones, that thither his own labours brought;  
Which with an hedge of Thorn he fenced about,  
And compassed all the hedge, with pales cleft out  
Of sable Oak; that here and there he fixed  
Frequent and thick. Within his yard, he mixed  
Twelve Sties to lodge his Herd; and every Sty  
Had room and use, for fifty Swine to lie.  
But those were females all. The male Swine slept  
Without doors ever. Nor was their Herd kept  
Fair like the Females, since they suffered still  
Great diminution: he being forced to kill  
And send the fattest to the dainty Feasts,  
Affected by th'ungodly wooing guests.  
Their number therefore, but three hundred were,  
And sixty: By them, Mastiffs as austere  
As savage beasts, lay ever. Their fierce strain  
Bred by the Herdsman; a mere Prince of Men:  
Their number, four. Himself was then appli'de  
In cutting forth a fair hewed Ox's hide,  
To fit his feet with shoes. His servants held  
Guard of his Swine. Three, here and there, at field;  
The fourth, he sent to City with a Sow,  
Which must of force be offered to the Vow,  
The Woowers made to all satiety:  
To serve which, still they did those Offerings ply. 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Ad latrandum fato quodam Na●us.   
The Fate-borne-Dogs-to-Barke, took sudden view  
Of Odyss●eus; and upon him flew  
With open mouth. He (cunning, to appall  
A fierce Dog's fury) from his hand let fall  
His staff to earth; and sat him careless down.  
And yet to him had one foul wrong been shown  
Where most his Right lay; had not instantly  
The Herdsman let his hide fall; and his cry  
(With frequent stones, flung at the dogs) repelled  
This way, and that, their eager course they held:  
When through the entry past, he thus did mourn.  
O Father! Howsoone, 
Eumaeus to Ulysses.  had you near been torn  
By these rude Dogs? whose hurt had branded me  
With much neglect of you? But Deity  
Hath given so many other sighs, and cares  
To my attendant state: that well unwares  
You might be hurt for me: for here I lie  
Grieving and mourning for the Majesty  
That Godlike wont to be ruling here;  
Since now, I fat his Swine, for others cheer:  
Where he, perhaps, errs hungry up and down,  
In Countries, Nations, Cities, all unknown.  
If any where he lives yet; and doth see  
The suns sweet beams. But (Father) follow me,  
That (cheered with wine and food) you may disclose  
From whence you truly are; and all the woes  
Your age is subject to. This said, he led  
Into his Cottage; and of Osiers, spread  
A thickened hurdle; on whose top, he strowed  
A wild Goats shaggy skin; and then bestowed  
His own Couch on it, that was soft and great.  
Ulysses' joyed, to see him so entreat  
His uncouth Presence; saying, Io●e requite,  
And all th'immortal Gods, with that delight  
Thou most defir'st, thy kind receipt of me;  
O Friend, to human Hospitality.  
Eum●eus answered: Guest? If one much worse  
Arrived here then thyself; it were a curse  
To my poor means, to let a Stranger taste  
Contempt, for fit food. Poor men, and vnplac'st  
In free seats of their own; are all from jove  
Commended to our entertaining love.  
But poor is th'entertainment I can give;  
Yet free, and loving. Of such men as live  
The lives of servants, and are still in fear  
Where young Lords govern; this is all the cheer  
They can afford a Stranger. There was One  
That used to manage, this now desert Throne:  
To whom the Gods deny return; that showed  
His curious favour to me, and bestowed  
Possessions on me: A most wished wife,  
A house, and portion; and a servants life,  
●it for the gift a gracious King should give:  
Who still took pains himself; & God made thrive  
His personal endeavour: and to me,  
His work the more increased; in which you see  
I now am conversant. And therefore much  
His hand had helped me, had heavens will been such,  
He might have here grown old. But he is gone,  
And would to God the whole succession  
Of Helen might go with him; since for her  
So many men di●de: whose Fate did confer  
My Liege to Troy, in Ag●mem●o●s grace;  
To spoil her People, and her Turret's race.  
This said, his coat to him, he straight did gird;  
And to his Sties went, that contained his Herd.  
From whence, he took out two, slew both, and ●ut  
Both fairly up. A fire inflamed, and put  
To spit the joints; which roasted well, he set  
With spit and all to him, that he might eat  
From thence his food, in all the singeing heat.  
Yet dredged it first with Flower: Then filled his Cup  
With good sweet wine; Sat then, & cheered him up.  
Eat now (my guest) such lean Swine, as are meat  
For us poor Swains: The fat, the wooers eat.  
In whose minds, no shame, no remorse doth move:  
Though well they know, the blessed Gods do not love  
ungodly actions; but respect the right,  
And in the works of pious men, delight.  
But these are worse than impious; fo● those  
That vow t'iniustice, and profess them foes  
To other Nations, enter on their Land;  
And jupiter (to show his punishing hand  
Upon th'invaded, for their penance then)  
Gives favour to their foes (though wicked men)  
To make their prey on them; who, having fraught  
Their ships with spoil enough, weigh anchor straight;  
And each man to his house; (and yet even these,  
Doth powerful fear, of God's just vengeance seize  
Even for that prize, in which they so rejoice)  
But these men, knowing (having heard the voice  
Of God, by some means) that sad Death hath reft  
The Ruler here; will never suffer left  
Their unjust wooing of his wife, not take  
Her often answer: and their own Roofs make  
Their fit retreats: But (since unchecked, they may)  
They therefore will, make still his goods their prey,  
Without all spare, or end. There is no day,  
Nor night sent out from God, that ever they  
Profane with one beasts blood, or only two,  
But more make spoil of: and the wrongs they do  
In meats excess; to Wine as well extend;  
Which as excessively, their riots spend:  
Yet still leave store. For sure his means were great;  
And no Hero, that hath choicest seat  
Upon the fruitful neighbour Continent;  
Or in this Isle itself, so opulent  
Was, as Ulysses: No, nor twenty such  
Put altogether, did possess so much.  
Whose Herds and Flocks I'll tell to every Head: 
Ulysses' Wealth.   
Upon the Continent, he daily fed  
Twelve Herds of O●en; No less, Flocks of Sheep;  
As many Herds of Swine. Stalls, large and steep,  
And equal sort of Goats: which Tenants there,  
And his own Shepherds kept. Then fed he here,  
Eleven fair stalls of Goats; whose food hath yield  
In the extreme part of a neighbour Field.  
Each Stall, his Herdsman hath: An honest Swain,  
Yet every one, must every day sustain  
The load of one Beast, (the most fat, and best  
Of all the Stall-fed) to the Wooers Feast.  
And I (for my part) of the Swine I keep  
(With four more Herdsmen) every day, help steep  
The Wooers appetites, in blood of one,  
The most select, our choice can fall upon.  
To this; Ulysses gave good ear, 
Ulysses' incensed against the wooers, with news of their spoil.  and fed;  
And drunk his wine; and vexed; and ravished  
His food for mere vexation. Seeds of ill  
His Stomach sowed, to hear his goods go still  
To glut of wooers. But his dinner done,  
And Stomach fed to satisfaction:  
He drunk a full Bowl, all of only wine,  
And gave it to the Guardian of his Swine:  
Who took it, and rejoiced. To whom he said;  
O Friend, who is it that (so rich) hath paid  
Price for thy service? Whose commended power,  
Thou sayst (to grace the Grecian Conqueror)  
At Ilium perished? Tell me; it may fall  
I knew some such. The great God knows, and all  
The other deathless Godheads: if I can  
(far having travailed) tell of such a man.  
Eumaeus answered: Father, never one  
Of all the Strangers that have touched upon  
This Coast with his life's News, could ever yet  
Of Queen, or loved son, any credit get.  
These travailers for clothes, or for a meal;  
At all adventures, any lie will tell.  
Nor do they trade for truth: not any man  
That saw the people I●hacensian,  
Of all their sort; and had the Queen's supplies,  
Did ever tell her any news, but lies.  
She graciously receives them yet; inquires  
Of all she can: and all, in tears expires.  
It is th'accustomed Law, that women keep,  
Their husbands, elsewhere dead, at home to weep.  
But do thou, quickly Father, forge a Tale;  
Some Coat, or cloak, to keep thee warm withal,  
Perhaps some one may yield thee: But for him,  
Vultures and Dogs, have torn from every limb  
His porous skin; and forth his soul is fled:  
His coarse at Sea, to Fishes forfeited:  
Or on the Shore, lies hid in heaps of sand;  
And there hath he his ebb: his Native Strand  
With friends tears flowing. But to me, past all  
Were tears created: For I never shall  
Find so human a royal Master more;  
What ever Sea, I seek; what ever Shore.  
Nay, to my Father, or my Mother's love  
Should I return; by whom, I breath and move,  
Could I so much joy offer; nor these eyes  
(Though my desires sustain extremities  
For their sad absence) would so fain be blest  
With sight of their lives, in my native Nest,  
As with Ulysses' dead: in whose last rest,  
(O friend) my soul shall love him. he's not here,  
Nor do I name him like a Flatterer.  
But as one thankful for his Love and care  
To me a poor man; in the rich so rare.  
And be he passed all shores, where Sun can shine,  
I will invoke him as a soul divine.  
O Friend (said he) to say, and to believe  
He cannot live, doth too much licence give  
To incredulity. For (not to speak  
At needy random; but my breath to break  
In sacred Oath) Ulysses shall return.  
And when his sight recomforts those that mourn,  
In his own roofs; then give me cloak, and cote,  
And garments worthy of a man of note.  
Before which, though need urged me never so,  
I'll not receive a thread, but naked go.  
No less I hate him then the gates of hell,  
That poorness can force, an untruth to tell.  
Let jove then (heavens chief God) just witness bear,  
And this thy hospitable Table here;  
Together with unblamed Ulysses' house,  
In which I find receipt so gracious;  
What I affirmed of him shall all be true.  
This instant year, thine eyes even here shall view  
Thy Lord Ulysses. Nay, ere this months end  
(Returned full home) he shall revenge extend  
To every one, whose ever deed hath done  
Wrong to his wife, and his illustrious Son.  
O Father (he replied) i'll neither give  
Thy news reward; nor doth Ulysses live.  
But come; enough of this; let's drink and eat,  
And never more his memory repeat.  
It grieves my heart to be remembered thus  
By any one, of one so glorious.  
But stand your oath, in your assertion strong,  
And let Ulysses come, for whom I long:  
For whom his wife; for whom his aged Sire;  
For whom his Son, consumes his Godlike fire;  
Whose chance I now must mourn, and ever shall.  
Whom when the Gods had brought to be as tall  
As any upright plant: and I had said,  
He would amongst a Court of men have swayed  
In counsels; and for form, have been admired  
Even with his Father: some God misinspired,  
Or man took from him, his own equal mind;  
And past him for the Pylian Shore, to find  
His long-lost Father. In return from whence,  
The Wooer's pride, way-layes his innocence;  
That, of divine Arcesius, all the race  
May fade to Ithaca, and not the grace  
Of any Name, left to it. But leave we  
His state, however: if surprised he be,  
Or if he scape. And may Saturnius hand  
Protect him safely to his native Land.  
Do you then (Father) show your griefs, and cause  
Of your arrival here; nor break the Laws  
That Truth prescribes you: but relate your name,  
And of what race you are: your Father's ●ame,  
And native Cities: Ship and men unfold,  
That to this Isle conveyed you: since I hold  
Your here arrival, was not all by shore;  
Nor that your feet, your aged person bore.  
He answered him; I'll tell all strictly true,  
I● time, and food, and wine enough accrue  
Within your roof to us: that freely we  
May sit and banquet: Let your business be  
Discharged by others. For, when all is done,  
I can not easily, while the year doth run  
His circle round, run over all the woes,  
Beneath which (by the course the God's dispose)  
My sad age labours. First, I'll tell you then;  
From ample Crete I fetch my Native strain;  
My Father wealthy: whose house, many a life  
Brought forth and bred beside, by his true wife.  
But me; a Bondmaid bore; his Concubine:  
Yet tendered was I, as his lawful line  
By him; of whose race, I my life profess.  
Castor, his name; surnamed Hyl●cides.  
A man, in foretimes, by the Cre●an State,  
For goods, good children, and his fortunate  
Success in all acts; of no mean esteem.  
But death-conferring Fates, have banished him  
To Pluto's kingdom. After whom, his sons  
By Lots divided his possessions;  
And gave me passing little; yet bestowed  
A house on me: to which, my virtues wooed  
A wife from rich men's roofs; nor was borne low,  
Nor last in fight, though all Nerves fail me now.  
But I suppose, that you by thus much seen,  
Know by the stubble, what the Corn hath been.  
For, past all doubt; affliction past all mean  
Hath brought my age on: but, in seasons past,  
Both Mars and Pallas, have with boldness graced;  
And Fortitude my fortunes; when I choosed  
Choice men for ambush, priest to have produced  
Ill to mine enemies; my too venturous spirit,  
Set never death before mine eyes, for merit.  
But (far the first advanced still) still I stroo●●  
Dead with my Lance, whoever overtook  
My speed of foot. Such was I then for war.  
But rustic actions, ever fled me far,  
And household thrift, which breeds a famous race.  
In Ore-driven Ships, did I my pleasure's place:  
In Battles, light Darts, Arrows. Sad things all,  
And into others thoughts, with horror fall.  
But what God put into my mind: to me  
I still esteemed as my felicity.  
As men, of several Metals are addressed;  
So, several forms are in their souls impressed.  
Before the sons of Greece, set foot in Troy,  
Nine times, in Chief, I did Command enjoy  
Of Men and Ships, against our foreign foe;  
And all I fitly wished, succeeded so.  
Yet, after this, I much exploit achieved;  
When strait, my house in all possessions thrived.  
Yet after that, I great, and Reverend grew  
Amongst the Cretans: till the Thunderer drew  
Our Forces out, in his foe- Trey decrees.  
A hateful service, that dissolved the knees  
Of many a Soldier. And to this was I  
And famous Idomene, enjoined t'apply  
Our ships and powers. Nor was there to be heard  
One reason for denial; so preferred  
Was the unreasonable people's rumour.  
Nine years we therefore fed the martial humour;  
And in the tenth (depeopling 〈◊〉 Town)  
We sailed for home. But God had quickly blown  
Our Fleet in pieces; and to wretched me,  
The Counsellor Io●e, did much mishap decree.  
For, only one month, I had leave t'enjoy  
My wife, and children; and my goods t'employ.  
But, after this, my mind for 〈◊〉 stood;  
When nine fair ships, I rig'd forth for the flood:  
Manned them with noble soldiers: all things fit  
For such a voyage, soon were won to it.  
Yet six days after, stayed my friends in feast;  
While I, in banquets to the Gods, addressed  
Much sacred matter for their sacrifice.  
The seventh, we boarded; and the Northern skies  
Lent us a frank, and passing prosperous gale,  
Fore which, we bore as free and easy ●aile,  
As we had backed a full and frolic tide;  
Nor felt one Ship misfortune for her pride;  
But safe we sat, our Sailors and the wind  
Consenting in our convoy. When heaven shined  
In sacred radiance of the fifth fair day:  
To sweetly-watered Egypt reached our way,  
And there we anchored: where I charged my men  
To stay aboard, and watch. Dismissing then  
Some scouts, to get the hill-tops, and discover,  
They (to their own intemperance given over)  
Strait fell to forage the rich fields; and thence  
Enforce both wives and infants, with th'expense  
Of both their bloods. When strait the rumour flew  
Up to the City: (which heard) up they drew  
By days first break; and all the field was filled  
With foot & horse; whose Arms did all things gild.  
And then the Lightning-loving Deity, cast  
A foul flight on my soldiers: nor stood fast  
One man▪ of all. About whom Mischief stood,  
And with his stern steel, drew in streams the blood,  
The greater part ●ed in their dissolute veins:  
The rest were saved, and made enthralled Swains,  
To all the basest usages there bred.  
And then, even Io●e himself supplied my head▪  
With saving counsel; (though I wished to die,  
And there in Egypt, with their slaughters lie,  
So much grief seized me) but I●●e made me yield;  
Dishelme my head, take from my neck, my shield:  
Hurl from my hand my Lance, and to the troop  
Of horse, the King led, instantly made up;  
Embrace and kiss his knees; whom pity won  
To give me safety, and (to make me shun  
The people's outrage, that made in amain,  
All jointly fired, with thirst to see me slain)  
He took me to his Chariot, weeping home;  
Himself with fear of Io●es wrath overcome,  
Who yielding souls receives; and takes most ill  
All such as well may save, yet love to kill.  
Seven years I sojourned here, and treasure got  
In good abundance of th'Egyptian state:  
For all would give. But when th'eight year began:  
A knowing Fellow (that would gnaw a man  
Like to a Vermin, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  with his hellish brain,  
And many an honest soul, even quick had slain;  
Whose name was Phoenix) close accosted me:  
And with insinuations, such as he  
Practised on others, my consent he gained  
To go into Phoenicia; where remained  
His house, and living. And with him I lived▪  
A complete year. But, when were all arrived  
The months and days: and that the year again  
Was turning round; and every seasons reign  
Renewed upon us; we for Lybia went:  
When (still inventing crafts to cirumvent)  
He made pretext, that I should only go  
And help convey his freight; but thought not so:  
For his intent was, to have sold me there,  
And made good gain, for finding me a year.  
Yet him I followed, though suspecting this:  
For, being aboard his Ship, I must be his  
Of strong Necessity. She ran the flood  
(Driven with a Northern gale, right free, and good)  
Amids the full stream, full on Crete. But then,  
jove plotted death to him, and all his men.  
For (put off quite from Crete, and so far gone  
That Shore was lost; and we set eye on none:  
But all show'd heaven and sea) above our Keel  
jove pointed right, a cloud as black as hell:  
Beneath which, all the sea hid; and from whence  
jove thundered, as his hand would never thence.  
And thick into our Ship, he threw his flash:  
That'gainst a Rock, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, qui terr●m rapido motu concu●it.  or Flat, her Keel did dash  
With headlong Rapture. Of the sulphur all  
Her bulk did savour; and her men let fall  
Amids the Surges: on which, all lay tossed  
Like Seagulls, round about her sides, and lost.  
And So, God took, all home-return from them.  
But jove himself (though plunged in that extreme)  
Recovered me, by thrusting on my hand  
The Ships long Mast. And (that my life might stand  
A little more up) I embraced it round;  
And on the rude winds, that did ruins sound,  
Nine days we hovered. In the tenth black night  
A huge Sea cast me on Thesprotia's height:  
Where the Hero Phidon, that was chief  
Of all the Thesprotes; gave my wrack relief,  
Without the price of that redemption  
That Phoenix fished for. 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, sine emption●●seu redemp●●onis precio  Where the Kings loved son  
Came to me; took me by the hand, & led  
Into his Court; my poor life surffetted  
With cold and labour: and because my wrack  
Chanced on his Father's Shore: he let not lack  
My plight; or coat, or cloak, or any thing  
Might cherish heat in me. And here the King,  
Said, he received Ulysses as his Guest;  
Observed him Friend-like; and his course addressed  
Home to his country: showing there to me  
Ulysses' goods. A very Treasury  
Of Brass, & Gold, & Steel of curious frame.  
And to the tenth succession of his name  
He laid up wealth enough, to serve beside  
In that King's house; so hugely amplified  
His treasure was. But from his Court, the King  
Affirmed him shipped, for the Dodonean Spring:  
To hear, from out the high-haired Oak of jove,  
Counsel from him: for means to his remove  
To his loved country, whence so many a year  
He had been absent; If he should appear  
Disguised, or manifest: and further swore  
In his mid Court, at Sacrifice, before  
These very eyes; that he had ready there  
Both Ship and Soldiers, to attend and bear  
Him to his country. But before; it chanced  
That a Thesprotean Ship, was to be launched  
For the much-corne-renowned Dulichian Land:  
In which, the King gave to his men command  
To take, and bring me under tender hand  
To King Acastus. But, in ill design  
Of my poor life, did their desires combine;  
So far forth, as might ever keep me under  
In fortunes hands, and tear my state in sunder.  
And when the water-treader, far away  
Had left the Land: then plotted they the day  
Of my long servitude; and took from me  
Both coat and cloak, and all things that might be  
Grace in my habit; and in place, put on  
These tattered rags, which now you see upon  
My wretched bosom. When heavens light took 
* A● Sunneset.  sea▪  
They fetched the Field-workes of fair Ith●ca;  
And in the armed Ship, with a wel-wreathed cord  
They straightly bound me, and did all disbord  
To shore to supper, in contentious rout.  
Yet strait, the Gods themselves, took from about  
My pressed limbs the bands, with equal ease;  
And I (my head in rags wrapped) took the Seas,  
Descending by the smooth stern; using then  
My hands for Oars; and made from these bad men  
Long way, in little time. At last, I fetched  
A goodly Grove of Okes; whose Shore I recht,  
And cast me prostrate on it. When they knew  
My thus-made-scape, about the Shores they flew:  
But (soon not finding) held it not their best  
To seek me further; but returned to rest  
Aboard their Vessel. Me, the Gods lodged close,  
Conducting me into the safe repose  
A good man's stable yielded. And thus, Fate  
This poor hour added, to my living date.  
O wretch of Guests (said he) thy Tale hath stirred  
My mind to much ruth: both how thou hast erred  
And suffered hearing, in such good parts shown:  
But what thy changed relation would make known  
About Ulysses; I hold neither true,  
Nor will believe: and what needest thou pursue  
A Lie so rashly? Since he sure is so  
As I conceive; for which, my skill shall go.  
The safe return my King lacks, cannot be;  
He is so envied of each Deity,  
So clear, so cruelly. For not in Troy  
They gave him end; nor let his Corpse enjoy  
The hands of Friends (which well they might have done▪  
He managed arms to such perfection;  
And should have had his Sepulchre, and all;  
And all the greeks to grace his Funeral:  
And this had given a glory to his Son  
Through all times future.) But his head is run  
Unseen, vnhonored, into Harpies maws.  
For my part, I'll not meddle with the cause:  
I live a separate life, amongst my Swine;  
Come at no Town for any need of mine;  
Unless the 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  circularly witted Queen  
(When any farre-come guest, is to be seen  
That brings her news) commands me bring a Brawn;  
About which (all things being in question drawn,  
That touch the King) they sit; and some are sad  
For his long absence. Some again, are glad  
To waste his goods unwreak't; all talking still.  
But, as for me, I nourished little will  
T'inquire or question of him: since the man  
That feigned himself, the fled Etolian,  
For slaughtering one, (through many Regions strayed)  
In my Stall (as his diversory) staid.  
Where well entreating him; he told me then,  
Amongst the Cretans, with King Idomen,  
He saw Ulysses; at his Ships repair,  
That had been brushed with the enraged air:  
And that, in Summer, or in Autumn, sure  
With all his brave friends, and rich furniture,  
He would be here: and nothing so, nor so.  
But thou, an old man, taught with so much woe  
As thou hast suffered, to be seasoned true,  
And brought by his ●ate; do not here pursue  
His gratulations, with thy cunning Lies.  
Thou canst not soak so through my Faculties.  
For I did never, either honour thee  
Or give thee love, to bring these tales to me.  
But in my fear of Hospitable jove  
Thou didst to this pass, my affections move.  
You stand exceeding much incredulous,  
(Replied Ulysses) to have witnessed thus  
My word, and Oath; yet yield no trust at all.  
But make we now a covenant here, and call  
The dreadful Gods to witness, that take seat  
In large Olympus: if your King's retreat  
Prove made, even hither; you shall furnish me  
With cloak, and coat, and make my passage free  
For loved D●lichius. If (as fits my vow)  
Your King return not; let your servants throw  
My old limbs headlong, from some rock most high,  
That other poor men may take fear to lie.  
The Herdsman, that had gifts in him divine,  
Replied; O Guest, how shall this Fame of mine  
And honest virtue, amongst men, remain  
Now, and hereafter, without worthy stain;  
If I, that led thee to my Houe● here,  
And made thee fitting hospitable cheer,  
Should after kill thee; and thy lo●ed mind  
Force from thy bones? Or how should stand inclined  
With any Faith, my will t'importune 〈◊〉  
In any prayer hereafter, for his love?  
Come, now 'tis supper's hour; and instant hast  
My men will make home: when our sweet repast  
we'll taste together. This discourse they held  
In mutual kind; when from a neighbour field,  
His Swine and Swineherds came▪ who in their coats  
Enclosed their Herds for sleep: which, mighty throats  
Laid out in entering. Then, the Godlike Swain  
His men enjoined thus: Bring me to be slain  
A chief Swine female, for my stranger Guest:  
When, altogether we will take our Fe●●t,  
Refreshing now our spirits, that all day take  
Pains in our Swine's good: who may therefore make  
For our pains with them all, amends with one;  
Since others eat our Labours, and take none?  
This said; his sharp steel hewed down wood, & they  
A passing fat Swine haled out of the Sty,  
Of five years old, which to the fire they put.  
When first, E●m●eus from the Front did cut  
The sacred hair, and cast it in the fire;  
Then, prayed to heaven: for still, before desire  
Was served with food, in their so rude abodes,  
Not the poor Swineherd would forget the Gods.  
Good souls they bore, how bad soever were  
The habits, ●hat their body's parts did bear.  
When all, the deathless Deities besought▪  
That wise Ulysses might be safely brought  
Home, to his house; then with a log of Oak  
Left lying by (highlifting it) a stroke  
He gave so deadly, it made life expire.  
Then cut the rest, her throat; and all in fire  
They hid and singed her: cut her up, and then,  
The Master took the office from the men,  
Who on the Altar did the parts impose  
That served for sacrifice: beginning close  
About the belly; through which he went,  
And (all the chief fat gathering) gave it vent  
(Part dredged with Flower) into the sacred flame;  
Then cut they up the joints, and roasted them:  
Drew all from spit, and served in dishes all.  
Then rose E●maeus, (who was General  
In skill to guide each act, his fit event)  
And (all, in seven parts cut) the first part went  
To service of the Nymphs, and Mercury;  
To whose names, he did Rites of piety  
In vows particular; and all the rest  
He shared to every one: but his loved Guest  
He graced with all the Chine; and of that King  
To have his heart cheered, set up every string.  
Which he observing said; I would to jove  
(Eumaeus) thou livedst in his worthy love  
As great as mine; that giv'st to such a guest  
As my poor self, of all thy goods the best.  
Eumaeus answered; 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Eat, unhappy wretch,  
And to what here is, at thy pleasure reach.  
This I have; this thou want'st: thus God will give,  
Thus take away; 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  in us, and all that live.  
To his will's equal centre, all things fall;  
His mind he must have, for he can do all.  
Thus having eat, and to his wine descended;  
Before he served his own thirst, he commended  
The first use of it, in fit sacrifice  
(As of his meat) to all the Deities.  
And to the City-racers hand, applied  
The second cup; 
Ulysses.  whose place was next his side:  
Mesaul●us did distribute the meat,  
(To which charge, was Eumaeus solely set  
In absence of Ulysses; by the Queen  
And old Laertes) and this man had been  
Bought by Eumaeus, with his faculties,  
Employed then in the Taphian Merchandise.  
But now; to food apposde, and ordered thus,  
All fell. Desire sufficed, Mesaulius  
Did take away. For bed then next they were,  
All thoroughly satisfied with complete cheer.  
The night than came; 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  ill, and no Taper shined:  
jove reigned her whole date. Th'ever wa●ry wind  
Zephyre blew loud; and Laertiades  
(Approving kind Eum●●us carefulness  
For his whole good) made far about assay,  
To get some cast-off Cassock (lest he lay  
That rough night cold) of him, or any one  
Of those his servants: when he thus begun.  
Hear me E●m●us, and my other friends;  
I'll use a speech that to my glory tends:  
Since I have drunk wine past my usual guise;  
Strong Wine commands the Fool, and mo●es the wise;  
Moves and impels him too, to sing and dance,  
And break in pleasant laughters; and (perchance)  
Prefer a speech too, that were better in.  
But when my spirits, once to speak begin,  
I shall not then dissemble. Would to heaven,  
I were as young, and had my forces driven  
As close together, as when once our powers  
We led to ambush, under th' Ilio● Towers:  
Where Ithacus, and Me●el●●● were  
The two Commanders; when it pleased them there  
To take myself for third; when to the Town  
And lofty walls we led, we couched close down  
All armed, amids the Osiers, and the Reeds,  
Which oftentimes th'o'erflowing River feeds.  
The cold night came; and th'l●y Northern gale  
Blew bleak upon us: after which, did fall  
A snow so cold, it cut, as in it bea●e  
A frozen water; which was all concrete  
About our Shields like Crystal. All made ●aine  
(Above our arms) to clothe, and clothe again.  
And so we made good shift (our shields beside  
Clapped close upon our clothes) to rest and hide  
From all discovery. But I (poor fool)  
Left my weeds with my men, because so cool  
I thought it could not prove: which thought, my pride  
A little strengthened; being loath to hide  
A goodly glittering garment I had on.  
And so I followed with my shield alone,  
And that brave weed. But when the night near ended  
Her course on earth, and that the stars descended,  
I●iog'd Ulysses (who lay passing near)  
And spoke to him, that had a nimble ear;  
Assuring him, that long I could not lie  
Amongst the living; for the fervency  
Of that sharp night would kill me; since as then,  
My evil Angel, made me with my men  
Leave all weeds, but a fine one. But I know  
'Tis vain to talk; here wants all remedy now.  
This said; he bore that understanding part  
In his prompt spirit, that still showed his Art  
In Fight and counsel; saying (in a word,  
And that low whispered) Peace, lest you afford  
Some Greek, note of your softness. No word mor●,  
But made as if his stern austerity, bore  
My plight no pity. Yet (as still he lay  
His head reposing on his hand) gave way  
To this invention; Hear me friends, a Dream  
(That was of some celestial light a beam)  
Stood in my sleep before me: prompting me  
With this fit notice: we are far (said he)  
From out our Fleet. Let one go then, and try  
If Agamemnon will afford supply  
To what we now are strong. This stirred a speed  
In Thoas to th'affair. Whose purple weed  
He left for haste. Which then I took, and lay  
In quiet after, till the dawn of day.  
This shift Ulysses made for one in need;  
And would to heaven, that youth such spirit did feed  
Now in my Nerves; and that my joints were knit,  
With such a strength, as made me then held fit  
To lead men with Ulysses. I should then  
Seem worth a weed, that fit's a herdsmans' men:  
For two respects, to gain a thankful friend;  
And to a good man's need, a good extend.  
O Father (said Eumaeus) thou hast shown  
Good cause for us, to give thee good 〈◊〉  
Not using any word, that was not freed  
From all least ill. Thou therefore, shalt not need  
Or coat, or other thing, that aptly may  
Beseem a wretched suppliant, for 〈◊〉  
Of this night's need. But when her golden ●hrone  
The Morn ascends, you must resume your 〈◊〉  
For, here you must not dream of many 〈◊〉,  
Or any change at all. We serve our needs,  
As you do yours: One back, one coat. But when  
Ulysses loved son returns, he then  
Shall give you coat and cassock; and bestow  
Your person where, your heart and soul is now.  
This said, he rose; made near the fire his bed,  
Which all with Goats and Sheepskins, he bespread.  
All which, Ulysses with himself d●d line.  
With whom, beside, he changed a gaberdine▪  
Thick lined, and soft; which still he made his shift,  
When he would dress him 'gainst the horrid drift  
Of Tempest; when deep winter's season blows.  
Nor pleased it him to lie there with his Sows,  
But while Ulysses slept there: and close by  
The other younkers, he abroad would●ly,  
And therefore armed him. Which set cheerful fare  
Before Ulysses' heart; to see such care  
Of his goods taken; how far off soever  
His fate, his person, and his wealth should sever.  
First then; a sharp edged sword, he girt about  
His well-spred shoulders; and (to shelter out  
The sharp West wind that blew) he put him on  
A thick-lined jacket; and yet cast upon  
All that, the large hide of a Goat, well fed.  
A Lance than took he, with a keen steel head,  
To be his keepe-off, both against Men and Dogs:  
And thus went he to rest with his male Hogs,  
That still abroad lay, underneath a Rock:  
Shield to the North-winds ever eager shock.  
The End of the Fourteenth Book of Homer's Odysseys.   

THE FIFTEENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Minerva, to his Native seat  
Exhorts Ulysses' sons retreat,  
In ●ed, and waking. He receives  
Gifts of Atrides; and so leaves  
The Spartan Court. And, going aboard  
Doth favourable way affo●rd  
To Theoclymenus; that was  
The Argive Augur, and sought pass;  
Fled for a slaughter he had done.  
Eumaeus tells Laertes son,  
How he became his Father's Man;  
Being sold by the Phoenician  
For some agreed on Faculties;  
From forth the Syrian Isle, made prize.  
Telemachus arrived at home,  
Doth to Eumaeus Cottage come.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  

From Sparta's strand  
makes safe access  
To his own● Land  
Vlyssides.    
IN Laced●mon, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 In qua ampli ut pulchri chori duci possunt, vel ducuntur: which the vulgar translation turn therefore, latam, seu amplam.  large, and apt for dances;  
Athenian Pallas, her access advances  
Up to the great in soul, Ulysses' seed,  
Suggesting his return, now fit for deed.  
She found both him, and Nestor's noble son  
In bed; in front of that fair Mans●on:  
Nestorides surprised with pleasing sleep.  
But, on the watch Ulysses' son did keep,  
Sleep could not enter: cares did so excite  
His soul, through all the solitary night,  
For his loved Father. To him (near) she said:  
Telemachus! 'tis time that now were stayed  
Thy foreign travails; since thy goods are free  
For those proud men, that all will eat from thee:  
Divide thy whole possessions, and leave  
Thy too-late presence nothing to receive.  
Incite the shrill-voiced Me●elaus then,  
To send thee to thy Native seat again;  
While thou mayst yet find in her honour strong  
Thy blameless Mother, against thy Father's wrong.  
For both the Father, and the Brothers to  
Of thy loved Mother, will not suffer so  
Extended any more, her widows bed;  
But make her now, her richest wooer wed,  
Eurymachus: who chiefly may augment  
Her gifts, and make her jointure eminent.  
And therefore hast thee; lest in thy despite,  
Thy house stand empty of thy Native right.  
For well thou knowst what mind a woman bears,  
The house of him, who ever she endears  
Herself in Nuptials to: she sees increased,  
The issue of her first loved Lord deceased,  
Forgotten quite, and never thought on more.  
In thy return then, the recounted store  
Thou findest reserved; to thy most trusted Maid  
Commit in guard, till heavens powers have puruaid  
A wife in virtue, and in beauty's grace  
Of fit sort for thee, to supply her place.  
And this note more I'll give thee; which repose  
In sure remembrance: The best sort of those,  
That woe thy Mother, watchful scouts address,  
Both in the straits of th' Ithacensian Seas,  
And dusty Samos; with intent t'invade  
And take thy life, ere thy return be made.  
Which yet, I think will fail: and some of them  
That waste thy fortunes, taste of that extreme  
They plot for thee. But keep off far from shore,  
And day and night sail: for, a foreright blore  
Who ever of th'Immortals, that vow guard  
And scape to thy return, will see prepared.  
As soon as thou arriu'st, dismiss to Town  
Thy Ship and Men: and first of all, make down  
To him that keeps thy Swine, and doth conceive  
A tender care to see thee well survive.  
There sleep; and send him to the Town, to tell  
The chaste Penelope, that safe and well  
Thou liv'st in his charge; and that Pyl●s sands  
The place contained, from whence thy person Lands.  
Thus she, to large Olympus, made ascent.  
When, with his heel, a little touch he lent  
To Nestor's son; whose sleeps sweet chain's he loosed;  
Bad rise, and see in Chariot enclosed  
Their one-hooued horse; that they might straight be gone.  
No such haste (he replied) night holds her throne,  
And dims all way, to course of Chariot.  
The Morn will soon get up. Nor see forgot  
The gifts with haste, that will, I know, be rich;  
And put into our Coach with gracious speech,  
By Lance-famed Menelaus. Not a Guest  
Shall touch at his house, but shall store his breast  
With fit mind of an hospitable man,  
To last as long as any daylight can  
His eyes re-comfort; in such gifts as he  
Will proofs make of his hearty royalty.  
He had no sooner said; but up arose  
Aurora, that the Golden hills repose.  
And Menelaus (good at martial cries)  
From Helen's bed raised, to his Guest applies  
His first appearance. Whose repair made known  
TO Ulysses loved son: On, his rob was thrown  
About his gracious body: his cloak cast  
Athwart his ample shoulders; and in haste  
Abroad he went; and did the King accost.  
Atrides, 
Telemachus to M●nelaus.  guarded with heavens deified host;  
Grant now remission to my Native right:  
My mind now urging mine own houses sight. 
Menel. answer   
Nor will I stay (said he) thy person long,  
Since thy desires to go, are grown so strong.  
I should myself be angry to sustain  
The like detention, urged by other men.  
Who loves a guest past Mean, past Mean will hate;  
The Mean in all acts, bears the best estate.  
A like ill 'tis, to thrust out such a guest,  
As would not go; as to detain the rest.  
We should a guest love, while he love's to stay,  
And when he like's not, give him loving way.  
Yet suffer so, that we may gifts impose  
In Coach to thee. Which ere our hands enclose,  
Thine eyes shall see; lest else, our loves may gloze.  
Besides, I'll cause our women to prepare  
What our house yields; and merely so much far  
As may suffice for health. Both, well will do;  
Both for our honour, and our profit to.  
And serving strength with food, you after may  
As much earth measure, as will match the day.  
If you will turn your course from sea, and go  
Through Greece and Argos: (that myself may so  
Keep kind way with thee) I'll join horse, & guide  
T'our human Cities. Nor ungratifide  
Will any one remit us: some one thing  
Will each present us, that along may bring  
Our pass with love; and prove our virtues blazed:  
A Cauldron or a Tripod, richly brazed.  
Two Mules; a bowl of Gold, that hath his price  
Heightened with Emblems of some rare device.  
The wise Prince answered: 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, poculum emblematis, & caelaturis ornatum.  I would gladly go  
Home, to mine own; and see that governed so  
That I may keep, what I for certain hold.  
Not hazard that, for only hoped for Gold:  
I left behind me, none, so all ways fit  
To give it guard; as mine own trust with it.  
Besides, in this broad course which you propose;  
My Father seeking; I myself may lose.  
When this, the shrill-voiced Menelaus heard;  
He charged his Queen and Maids, to see prepared  
Breakfast, of what the whole house held for best.  
To him, rose Et●●●eus from his rest;  
Whose dwelling was not far off from the Court;  
And his attendance, his command did sort,  
With kindling fires, and furth'ring all the roast,  
In act of whose charge heard, no time he lost.  
Himself then, to an odorous room descended,  
Whom Megapenthe, and his Queen attended.  
Come to his treasury; a two-eared cup  
He choosed of all, and made his Son bear up  
A Silver bowl. The Queen then taking stand  
Aside her Chest; where (by her own fair hand  
Lay Vests, of all hues wrought) She took out one  
Most large, most Artful: chiefly fair; and shone  
Like to a Star; and lay of all, the last.  
Then through the house, with either's gift they passed;  
When to Ulysses' son, Atrides said:  
Telemachus: 
Menelaus to Tel●machus.  since so entirely swayed  
Thy thoughts are, with thy vowed return, now tendered;  
May Juno's thundering husband, see it rendered  
Perfect at all parts; action answering thought.  
Of all the rich gifts, in my treasure, sought  
I give thee here, the most in grace, and best.  
A Bowl, but Silver; yet the brims compressed  
With Gold; whose fabric his desert doth bring  
From Vulcan's hand. Presented by the King  
And great Hero of Sydonia's State;  
When at our parting he did consummate  
His whole house keeping. This do thou command.  
This said; he put the round Bowl in his hand;  
And then, his strong son Meg●penthe placed  
The Silver cup before him; amply graced  
With work, and lustre. Helen (standing by;  
And in her hand, the rob, her housewifery)  
His name remembering, said: And I present  
(Loved son) this gift to thee; the Monument  
Of the so-many-loved Helen's hands:  
Which, at the knitting of thy Nuptial bands  
Present thy wife. In mean space, may it lie  
By thy loved Mother; but to me apply  
Thy pleasure in it. And thus, take thy way  
To thy fair house, and Countries wished stay.  
Thus gave she to his hands, the veil; and he,  
The acceptation authored joyfully.  
Which in the Chariot's Chest, Pisi●ratus  
Placed with the rest, and held miraculous.  
The yellow-headed King then, led them all,  
To seats and Thrones placed, in his spacious Hall.  
The Handmaid, water brought, and gave it stream  
From out a fair and golden Ewer to them.  
From whose hands, to a silver Cauldron, fled  
The troubled wave. A bright board than she spread:  
On which, another reverend Dame set bread:  
To which, more servants, store of victuals served▪  
Et●onaeus was the man that carved;  
And Megapenthe filled them all their wine.  
All fed, and drank; till all felt care decline  
For those refresh. Both the Guests did go  
To horse, and coach; and forth the Portico  
A little issued: When the yellow King  
Brought wine himself: that, with an Offering  
To all the Gods, they might their journey take.  
He stood before the Gods; and thus he spoke.  
Farewell young Princes: to grave Nestor's ear  
This salutation from my gratitude, bear:  
That I profess in all our Ilium wars  
He stood, a careful Father to my cares.  
To him the wise Vlyssides, replied:  
With all our utmost shall be signified  
(jove-kept Atrides) your right royal will:  
A●d would to God, I could as well fulfil  
Mine own minds gratitude, for your free grace;  
In telling to Ulysses, in the place  
Of my return; in what accomplished kind  
I have obtained the office of a friend  
At your deservings: whose fair end you crown  
With gifts so many; and of such renown.  
His wish, that he might find in his retreat  
His Father safe returned (to so repeat  
The King's love to him) was saluted thus;  
An Eagle rose; and in her Seres did truss  
A Goose, all white, & huge: A household one,  
Which, men and women (crying out upon)  
Pursued: but she (being near the guests) her flight  
Made on their right-hand; and kept still foreright  
Before their horses: which observed by them,  
The spirits in all their minds took joys extreme;  
Which Nestor's son thus questioned: 
Nestor's son●e to M●nelaus His Ironical question continuing stil● Homer● Character of M●n●laus.  jove-kept King,  
Yield your grave thoughts, if this ostentfull thing  
(This Eagle, and this Goose) touch us, or you?  
He put to study, and not knowing how  
To give fit answer; Helen took on her  
Th'ostents solution, and did this prefer.  
Hear me, 
Helen dissolves the O●●ent.  and I will play the Prophet's part,  
As the immortals cast it in my heart;  
And (as I think) will make the true sense known:  
As this Ioues Bird, from out the Mountains flown  
(Where was her Arie; and whence rose her race)  
Trust up this Goose, that from the house did graze;  
So shall Ulysses (coming from the wild  
Of Seas and sufferings) reach, unreconciled  
His Native home: where even this hour he is:  
And on those house-fed wooers, those wrongs of his,  
Will shortly wreak, with all their miseries.  
O (said Telemachus) if Saturnian jove, 
Telem. to He●len   
To my desires, thy dear presage approve;  
When I arrive, I will perform to thee  
My daily vows, as to a Deity.  
This said; he used his scourge upon the horse,  
That through the City freely made their course  
To Field; and all day, made that first speed, good.  
But when the Sunset, and Obscur●●●● stood  
In each man's way; they ended their access  
At Pheras, in the house of Diocles,  
Son to Orsilochus, Alpheus' seed;  
Who gave them guest-rites: and sleeps natural need  
They that night served there. When 〈◊〉 rose,  
They joined their horse: took coach, and did dispose  
Their course for Py●os; whose high City, soon  
They reach't. Nor would Telemachus be won  
To Nestor's house: and therefore ordered thus  
His speech to Nestor's son, Pisistratus;  
How shall I win thy promise to a grace  
That I must ask of thee? 
Telem. to Pisist.  we both embrace  
The names of Bedfellows; and in that name  
Will glory as an Adjunct of our fame:  
Our Father's friendship: our own equal age;  
And our joint travail, may the more engage  
Our mutual concord. Do not then assay  
(My God-loued friend) to lead me from my way▪  
To my near Ship; but take a course direct  
And leave me there; lest thy old Sires respect  
(In his 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Cupiens diligere.  desire to love me) hinder so  
My way for home, that have such need to go.  
This said; Nestorides held all discourse  
In his kind soul, how best he might enforce  
Both promise and performance; which, at last  
He vowed to venture; and directly cast  
His horse about, to fetch the Ship and Shore.  
Where, come: His friends most lovely gifts, he bore  
Aboard the Ship; and in her hindeck placed  
The vail that Helen's curious hand had graced;  
And Menelaus Gold: and said, Away;  
Nor let thy men, in any least date, stay:  
But quite put off, ere I get home, and tell  
The old Duke, you are past: for passing well  
I know his mind, to so exceed all force  
Of any prayer; That he will stay your course:  
Himself make hither, All your course call back;  
And when he hath you, have no thought to rack  
Him from his bounty; and to let you part  
Without a Present: but be vexed at heart  
With both our plead; if we once but move  
The least repression of his fiery love.  
Thus took he coach: his faire-maned steeds scourged on  
Along the Pylian City: and anon  
His Father's Court reached. While Ulysses' Son  
Bad board, and arm; which with a thought was done▪  
His Rowers set, and he rich Odours firing  
In his hindecke; for his secure retiring  
To great 
* Pallas.  Athenia: To his Ship came flying  
A Stranger, and a Prophet; as relying  
On wished passage: having newly slain  
A man at Argos: yet his Races vain  
●ow'd from Melampus; who in former date  
In ●ylos lived, and had a huge estate.  
But fled his country; and the punishing hand  
Of great-souled Neleus, in a foreign Land  
From that most famous Mortal; having held  
A world of riches: nor could be compelled  
To render restitution in a year.  
In mean space, living as close prisoner  
In Court of Phylacus: and for the sake  
Of Neleus daughter, mighty cares did take;  
Together with a grievous Languor sent  
From grave 
* One of the F●ries of ●ell.  Erynnis, that did much torment  
His vexed conscience; yet his life's expense  
He scaped, and drove the loud-voiced Oxen thence,  
To breed-sheepe Pylos; bringing vengeance thus  
Her foul demerit, to great Neleus;  
And to his Brother's house reduced his wife:  
Who yet from Pylos, did remove his life  
For feed-horse Argos; where his Fate set down  
A dwelling for him: and in much renown  
Made govern many Argives: where, a Spouse  
He took to him, and built a famous house.  
There had he borne to him Antiphates,  
And forceful Mantius. To the first of these  
Was great Oiclaeus borne: Oiclaeus gate  
Amph●araus, that the popular State  
Had all their health in: whom, even from his heart  
jove loved; and Phoebus in the whole desert  
Of friendship held him. Yet not blest so much  
That Ages threshold, he did ever touch:  
But lost his life, by 
* His wife betrayed him for money.  Female bribery.  
Yet two sons authored his posterity;  
Alcinaon, and renowned Amphilochus.  
Mantius had issue; Polyphidius,  
And Clitus: But Aurora ravished him,  
For excellence of his admired limb;  
And interested him amongst the Gods.  
His Brother knew, men's good and bad abodes  
The best of all men; after the decease  
Of him that perished in unnatural peace  
At spacious Thebes. Apollo did inspire  
His knowing soul with a Prophetic fire.  
Who (angry with his Father) took his way  
To Hyperesia; where (making stay)  
He prophesied to all men; and had there  
A Son called Theoclymenus; 
Theoclymenus to Telemachus.  who here  
Came to Telemachus; and found aboard  
Himself at Sacrifice; whom in a word  
He thus saluted: O Friend, since I find  
Even here at Ship, a sacrificing mind  
Inform your actions: By your sacrifice;  
And by that worthy choice of Deities,  
To whom you offer: by yourself, and all,  
These men that serve your course maritimal;  
Tell one that asks, the truth: Nor give it gloze,  
Both who, and whence you are? From what seed rose  
Your royal person? And what Cities towers  
Hold habitation, to your parents powers?  
He answered: Stranger! The sure truth is this;  
I am of Ithaca; 
Telemachus to Theoclymenus.  my Father is  
(Or was) Ulysses: but austere death, now  
Takes his state from him; whose event to know,  
(Himself being long away) I set forth thus  
With ship and soldiers: Th●oclymenus,  
As freely said; And I to thee am fled  
From forth my country; for a man struck dead  
By my unhappy hand: who was with me  
Of one selfe-Tribe; and of his pedigree  
Are many Friends and Brothers: and the sway  
Of Achive Kindred, reacheth far away.  
From whom (because I fear their spleens suborn  
Blood, and black fate against me (being borne  
To be a wandrer among foreign men)  
Make thy fair ship, my rescue; and sustain  
My life from slaughter. Thy deservings may  
Perform that m●r●y: and to them I pray.  
Nor will I bar (said he) 
Telem. Reply.  thy will to make  
My means and equal ship, thy aid: but take  
(With what we have here, in all friendly use)  
Thy life from any violence that pursues.  
Thus took he in, his Lance; and it extended  
Aloft the hatches; which himself ascended.  
The Prince took seat at Stern: on his right hand,  
Set Theoclymenus; and gave command  
To all his men, to arm; and see made fast  
Amidst the hollow Keel, the Beechen Mast  
With able hal●ers; hoist sail, launch: which soon  
He saw obeyed. And then his Ship did run  
A merry course: Blue-eyed Minerva sent  
A foreright gale; tumultuous, vehement,  
Along the air; that her ways utmost yield  
The ship might make, and plough the brackish field.  
Then set the Sun, and Night blacked all the ways.  
The ship (with Ioues wind winged) where th' Epian sways  
Fetched whereas first: then Elis, the divine;  
And then for those Isles made, that Seaward shine,  
For form and sharpness, like a Lances head.  
About which, lay the wooers ambushed.  
On which he rushed, to try if he could scape  
His plotted death; or serve Her treacherous Rape.  
And now return we to Eumaeus Shed;  
Where (at their food with others marshaled) 
The stories ● turn to 〈◊〉   
Ulysses, and his noble Herdsman sat;  
To try if whose loves curious estate  
Stood firm to his abode, or felt it fade;  
And so would take each best cause to persuade  
His Guest to Town; Ulysses thus contends:  
Hear me, Eumaeus, and ye other Friends.  
Next Morn, to Town I covet to be gone,  
To beg some others alms; not still charge one.  
Advise me well then; and as well provide  
I may be fitted with an honest guide.  
For through the streets (since Need will have it so)  
I'll tread, to try if any will bestow  
A dish of drink on me, or bit of bread,  
Till to Ulysses' house I may be led▪  
And there I'll tell alwise Penelope, news:  
Mix with the wooers pride; and (since they use  
To far above the full) their hands excite  
To some small Feast, from out their infinite:  
For which, I'll wait, and play the Servingman,  
Fairly enough; command the most they can.  
For I will tell thee; note me well, and hear,  
That if the will be of heavens Messenger,  
(Who to the works of men, of any sort  
Can grace infuse, and glory) nothing short  
Am I of him, that doth to most aspire  
In any service: as to build a Fire,  
To cleave sere wood: to roast, or boil their meat;  
To wait at board, mix wine, or know the Neat;  
Or any work, in which the poore-caled worst,  
To serve the rich-caled best, in Fate are forced.  
He, angry with him, 
Eum●●us to Ulysses.  said; Alas poor Guest,  
Why did this counsel ever touch thy breast?  
Thou seekest thy utter spoil beyond all doubt,  
If thou giv'st venture on the Wooer's rout:  
Whose wrong the force, affects the Iron heaven.  
Their light delights, are far from being given  
To such grave Servitors. Youths richly tricked  
In coats or Cassocks; Locks divinely slicked,  
And looks most rapting; ever have the gift  
To taste their crowned cups, ●and full Trenchers shift.  
Their Tables ever like their Glasses shine;  
Loaded with bread, with varied flesh, and wine.  
And thou? go thither? Stay: for here do none  
Grudge at thy presence: nor myself, nor one  
Of all I feed. But when Ulysses' son  
Again shall greet us, he shall put thee on  
Both coat and cassock; and thy quick retreat  
Set, where thy heart and soul desire thy seat.  
Industrious Ulysses, gave reply:  
I still much wish, 
Ulysses' answer to Eumaeus.  that heavens chief Deity  
Loved thee, as I do; that hast eased my mind  
Of woes and wanderings, never yet cozened.  
Nought is more wretched in a 〈…〉,  
Then Country's want, and shift from place to place.  
But for the baneful belly, men take care  
Beyond good counsel: whosoever are  
In compass of the wants it undergoes,  
By wanderings losses, or dependent woes.  
Excuse me therefore, if I erred at home:  
Which since thou wilt make here (as overcome  
With thy command for stay) I'll take on me  
Cares appertaining to this place, like thee.  
Does then Ulysses' Sire, and Mother breath?  
Both whom he left, in th'age next door to death?  
Or are they breathless, and descended where  
The dark house is, that never day doth clear?  
Laertes lives (said he) but every hour  
Beseecheth jove to take from him the power  
That joins his life and limbs: 
Eumaeus answer to Ulysses.  for with a moan  
That breeds a marvel, he laments his son  
Deprived by death. And adds to that, another  
Of no less depth; for that dead sons dead Mother:  
Whom he a Virgin wedded: which the more  
Makes him lament her loss; and doth deplore  
Yet more her miss, because her womb the truer  
Was to his brave son; and his slaughter slew her.  
Which last love to her, doth his li●e engage,  
And makes him live an undigested age.  
O! such a death she died, as never may  
Seize any one, that here beholds the day;  
That either is to any man, a friend,  
Or can a woman kill in such a kind.  
As long as she had Being, I would be  
A still Inquirer (since 'twas dear to me,  
Though death to her, to hear his name) when she  
Herd of Ulysses: for I might be bold;  
She brought me up, and in her love did hold  
My life, compared with long-vailed 〈◊〉,  
Her youngest issue (in some small degree  
Her daughter yet preferred) a brave young Dame.  
But when of youth the dearly loved 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Peroptabilem pubem.  Flame  
Was lighted in us; marriage did prefer  
The maid to Samos; whence was sent for her  
Infinite riches: when, the Queen bestowed  
A fair new suit, new shoes, and all; and vowed  
Me to the field. But passing loath to part,  
As loving me, more than she loved her heart.  
And these I want now; but their business grows  
Upon me daily. Which the Gods impose,  
To whom I hold all; give account to them,  
For I see none, left to the Diadem,  
That may dispose all better. So, I drink  
And eat of what is here; and whom I think  
Worthy or reverend, I have given to still  
These kinds of Guest-ri●es: for the household ill  
(Which where the Queen is, riots) takes her still  
From thought of these things. Nor is it delight  
To hear from her plight; of or work, or word;  
The wooer's spoil all. But yet my men, will board  
Her sorrows often, with discourse of all:  
Eating and drinking of the Festival  
That there is kept; and after bring to field  
Such things as servants make their pleasures yield.  
O me (Eumaeus) said Laertes son,  
Hast thou then erred so, of a little one? 
Ulysses' answer to Eumaeus.   
(Like me?) From friends, and country? pray thee say,  
(And say a Truth) doth vast Destruction lay  
Her hand upon the wide-wayed 
* Supposing him to dwell in a City.  Seat of men?  
Where dwelled thy Sire, and reverend Mother then?  
That thou art spared there? Or else, set alone  
In guard of beeves, or Sheep: Set th'enemy on;  
Surprised, and Shipped? transferred, and sold thee here?  
He that bought thee, paid well; yet bought not dear.  
Since thou enquir'st of that, 
Eumaeus relates his birth, etc.  my guest (said he)  
Hear and be silent: and mean space, sit free  
In use of these cups, to thy most delights;  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Unspeakable, in length now, are the Nights.  
Those that affect sleep yet; to sleep have leave;  
Those that affect to hear, their hearers give.  
But sleep not ere your hour; Much sleep d●th grieve.  
Who ever lists to sleep; Away to bed:  
Together with the morning raise his head:  
Together with his fellows, break his fast;  
And then, his Lords Herd, drive to their repast.  
We two, still in our Tabernacle here,  
Drinking & eating; will our bosoms cheer  
With memories, and tales of our annoys.  
Betwixt his sorrows, every human joys.  
He most, who most hath felt; and furthest erred:  
And now thy will; to act, shall be preferred.  
There is an Isle above Ortygi●  
(If thou hast heard) 
Eumaeu● tells Ulysses how he was bought and sold.  they call it Syria;  
Where, once a day, the Sun moves backwards still.  
'tis not so great as good; for it doth fill  
The fields with Oxen; fills them still with Sheep;  
Fills roofs with wine, & makes all Come there cheap:  
No Dearth comes ever there; nor no Disease,  
That doth, with hate, us wretched mortals seize.  
But when men's varied Nations, dwelling there  
In any City, enter th'aged year:  
The Siluer-bow-bearer (the Sun) and she,  
That bears as much renown for Archery;  
Stoop with their painles shafts, & strike them dead,  
As one would sleep, and never keep the bed.  
In this Isle stand two Cities: betwixt whom  
All things, that of the soils fertility come,  
In two parts are divided. And both these,  
My Father ruled; (Ctesius Ormenides)  
A man, like the immortals. With these States,  
The crosse-biting Phaenissians, trafficked rates  
Of infinite Merchandise, in ships brought there;  
In which, they then, were held exempt from peer.  
There dwelled within my Father's house, a Dame  
Borne a Phaenissian; skilful in the frame  
Of Noble Huswiferies; right tall, and fair.  
Her, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 1. admodum vafer. Der. ex 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 1. pertraho in retia & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 1. puella.  the Phaenissian great-wen●h-net-lai're,  
With sweet words circumvented, as she was  
Washing her Linen. To his amorous pass  
He brought her first, shored from his Sh●p to her;  
To whom he did his whole life's love prefer;  
Which, of these brest-exposing Dames, the hearts  
Deceives; though fashioned of right honest parts.  
He asked her after, What she was? and whence?  
She passing presently, the excellence  
Told of her Father's Turrets; and that she  
Might boast herself, sprung from the Progeny  
Of the rich Sydons: and the daughter was  
Of the much-yeare-reuennewed Arybas.  
But, that the Taphian Pirates, made her prize,  
As she returned from her field-huswiferies:  
Transferred her hither; and at that man's house  
Where now she lived; for value precious  
Sold her to th'Owner. He that stole her love,  
Bade her again, to her birth's seat remove,  
To see the fair roofs of her friends again;  
Who still held state▪ and did the port maintain,  
Herself reported. She said, Be it so;  
So you, and all that in your ship shall roe,  
Swear to return me, in all safety hence.  
All swore; th'Oath passed, with every consequence:  
She bade, Be silent now; and not a word  
Do you, or any of your friends afford,  
Meeting me afterward in any way;  
Or at the washing Fount; lest some display  
Be made, and told the old man: and he then  
Keep me straight bound: To you, and to your men  
The utter ruin, plotting of your lives.  
Keep in firm thought then, every word that strives  
For dangerous utterance: Haste your ships full freight  
Of what you Traffic for; and let me straight  
Know by some sent friend: 
* Intending the Ship.  She hath all in hold,  
And (with myself) I'll bring thence all the gold  
I can by all means finger: and beside,  
I'll do my best, to see your freight supplied  
With some wel-weighing burden of mine own.  
For I bring up, in house, a great man's son,  
As crafty as myself; who will with me  
Run every way along; and I will be  
His Leader, till your Ship hath made him sure.  
He will an infinite great price procure  
Transfer him to what languaged men ye may.  
This said; She got her home, and there made stay  
A whole year with us; Goods of great avail  
Their Ship enriching. Which now, fit for sail:  
They sent a Messenger t'inform the Dame.  
And, to my father's house a fellow came,  
Full of Phaenissian craft: that, to be sold  
A Tablet bought; the body all of Gold,  
The Verge, all Amber. This had ocular view,  
Both by my honoured Mother, and the crew  
Of her house-handmaids, handled; and ●he price  
Beat; asked, and promised. And while this device  
Lay thus upon the Forge: this jeweller  
Made privy signs (by winks and wiles) to her  
That was his object; which she took, and he  
(His sign seeing noted) ●ied to Ship. When she  
(My hand still taking, as she used to do  
To walk abroad with her) conveyed me so  
Abroad with her; and in the Portico  
Found cups, with tasted Viands; which the guests  
That used to flock about my Father's feasts  
Had left. They gone (some to the Counsel Court;  
Some to hear news amongst the talking sort)  
Her Theft, three bowls into her lap conveyed;  
And forth she went. Nor was my wit so stayed  
To stay her, or myself. The Sun went down,  
And shadows round about the world were flown,  
When we came to the haven; in which did ride  
The swift Phaenissian Ship; whose fair broad side  
They boarded strait: took us up; And all went  
Along the moist waves. Wind, Saturnius sent.  
Six days, we day and night sayl●d: But when jove  
Put up the seventh day; She, that shafts 
* Diana.  doth love,  
Shot dead the woman; who into the pump  
Like to a Dop-chicke, dived; and gave a thump  
In her sad settling. Forth they cast her then  
To serve the Fish, and Sea-calues: no more Men.  
But I was left there, with a heavy heart.  
When, wind and water drove them quite apart  
Their own course, and on Ithaca they fell;  
And there, poor me, did to Laertes sell:  
And thus these eyes, the sight of this Isle proved.  
Eumaeus (he replied) Thou much hast moved  
The mind in me, with all things thou hast said,  
And all the sufferance on thy bosom laid:  
burr (truly) to thy ill, hath jove joined good,  
That one whose veins are served with human blood  
Hath bought thy service; that gives competence  
Of food, wine; cloth to thee. And sure th'expense  
Of thy life's date here, is of good desert.  
Whose labours, not to thee alone, impart  
Sufficient food and housing; but to me.  
Where I, through many a heaped humanity  
Have hither erred; where, though (like thee) not sold,  
Not stayed, like thee yet; nor nought needful hold.  
This mutual speech they used; nor had they slept  
Much time before; the much-nere-morning leapt  
To her fair throne. And now struck sail, the men  
That served Telemachus; arrived just then  
Near his loved shore: where now they stooped the Mast,  
Made to the Port with Oars, and Anchor cast;  
Made fast the Ship, and then ashore they went:  
Dressed supper, filled wine; when (their appetites spent)  
Telemachus commanded, they should yield  
The Ship to th' owner; while himself, at field  
Would see his shepherds: when light drew to end  
He would his gifts see, and to Town descend.  
And in the morning, at a Feast bestow  
Rewards for all their pains. And whither, now  
(Said Theoclymenus) my loved Son  
Shall I address myself? who●e mansion,  
Of all men, in this rough-hewn Isle, shall I  
Direct my way to? Or go readily  
To thy house, and thy Mother? He replied;  
Another time, I'll see you satisfied  
With my house entertainment: but as now,  
You should encounter none that could bestow  
Your fit entreaty; and (which less grace were)  
You could not see my Mother, I not there.  
For she's no frequent object; but apart  
Keeps from her wooers; wooed with her desert,  
Up, in her chamber, at her Housewifery.  
But I'll name one, to whom you shall apply  
Direct repair; and that's Eurymachus,  
Renowned descent, to wise Polybius:  
A man whom th' Ithacensians look on now,  
As on a God: since he, of all that wow  
Is far superior man; and likest far  
To wed my mother: and as circular  
Be in that honour, as Ulysses was.  
But heaven-housd jove knows, the yet hidden pass  
Of her disposure; and on them he may  
A blacker sight bring, than her Nuptial day.  
As this he uttered; on his right hand flew  
A Saker; sacred to the God of view:  
That, in his Talons trust, and plumed a Dove;  
The Feathers round about the Ship did rove,  
And on Telemachus fell; whom th'augur then  
took fast byth' hand; withdrew him from his men,  
And said; 
Th●oclymenus to Telemachus.  Telemachus; This Hawk is sent  
From God; I knew it for a sure Ostent  
When first I saw it. Be you well assured,  
There will no wooer be by heaven endured  
To rule in Ithaca, above your Race:  
But your powers ever fill the Regal place.  
I wish to heaven (said he) thy word might stand; 
Telemachus to Theo●●ymenus.   
Thou then shouldst soon acknowledge from my hand  
Such gifts & friendship, as would make thee (Guest)  
M●t, and saluted, as no less than ble●t.  
This said; 
Tele. to Pyraeus  he called Pyraeus (Clitus son)  
His true associate; saying, Thou hast done  
(Of all my Followers, to the Pylian shore)  
My will, in chief, in other things; Once more,  
Be chiefly good to me: take to thy house  
This loved stranger; & be studious  
T'embrace and greet him, with thy greatest fare,  
Till I myself come, and take off thy care.  
The famous for his Lance said; 
Pyraeus reply.  if your stay,  
Take time for life here; this man's care, I'll lay  
On my performance; nor what fits a Guest,  
Shall any penury withhold his Feast.  
Thus took he ship; bade them board, and away.  
They boarded; sat: but did their labour stay  
Till he had decked his feet, and reached his Lance.  
They to the City: he did strait advance  
Up to his Sties; where Swine lay for him, store;  
By whose sides did his honest Swineherd snore:  
Till his short ●ares, his longest Nights had ended:  
And nothing worse, to both his Lords intended.  
The End of the Fifteenth Book of Homer's Odysseys.   

THE SIXTEENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
THe Prince at F●●ld; ●e sends to Town  
Eumaeus, to make truly known  
His safe return. By Pallas will,  
Telemachus is given the skill  
To know his Father. Those that lay  
In Ambush, to prevent the way  
Of young Vlyssides, for home;  
Retire, with anger overcome.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  

To his most dear,  
Vlysses●●owes ●●owes;  
The wise Son here  
his Father knows.    
VLysses, and divine Eumaeus rose  
Soon as the morning could her eyes unclose:  
Made fire; broke fast; And to their Pasture send  
The gathered Herds: on whom, their Swains attend.  
The selfe-tyre barking Dogs, all fawned upon;  
Nor barked, at first sight of Ulysses' son.  
The whinings of their fawn yet did greet  
Ulysses' ears; and sounds of certain feet;  
Who thus bespoke Eumaeus: Sure some friend,  
Or one well known comes, that the Mastiffs spend  
Their mouths no louder. Only some one near  
They whine, and leap about; whose feet I hear.  
Each word of this speech was not spent, 
Eumaeus amaze and kind welcome of Telemachus.  before  
His Son stood in the entry of the door.  
Outrushed amazed Eumaeus: and let go  
The cup to earth, that he had laboured so,  
Cleansed for the neat wine: Did the Prince surprise,  
Kissed his fair forehead: Both his lovely eyes,  
Both his white hands; And tender tears distilled.  
There breathed no kind-souled Father, that was filled  
Less with his sons embraces, that had lived  
Ten years in far-off earth; now new retrieved,  
His only child too, gotten in his age:  
And for whose absence he had felt the rage  
Of griefs upon him; then for this divined  
So much for form, was this divine for mind:  
Who kissed him through: who grew about him kissing,  
As fresh from death scaped. Whom (so long time missing)  
He wept for joy, and said; Thou yet art come,  
(Sweet light, sweet sunrise) to thy cloudy home.  
O (never I looked) when once shipped away  
For Pylos shores, to see thy turning day.  
Come; enter loved Son; Let me feast my heart  
With thy sweet sight; new come, so far apart.  
Nor when you lived at home, would you walk down  
Often enough here, but staid still at Town:  
It pleased you then, to cast such forehand view  
About your house, on that most 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Orcus, & signifies properly, tenebricosus, or infernalis▪ so that, perni●iosus (wh●ch is the Latin translation) is not so ●itte as d●m●d for that crew of dissolute Wooers. The phrase being now used to all so licentious.  damned crew.  
It shall be so then, Friend (said he) but now  
I come to glad mine eyes with thee, and know  
If still my Mother, in her house remain:  
Or if some wooer hath aspired to gain  
Of her in Nuptials: for Ulysses' bed,  
By this, lies all with Spider's cobwebs spread,  
In penury of him that should supply it.  
She still (said he) holds her most constant quiet,  
Aloft thine own house, for the bed's respect:  
But for her Lords sad loss; sad nights and days  
Obscure her beauties, and corrupt their rays.  
This said; Eumaeus, took his brazen Spear;  
And in he went: when, being entered near  
Within the stony threshold; From his seat,  
His Father rose to him: who would not let  
Th'old man remove; but drew him back and pre●t  
With earnest terms his sitting; Saying, Guest;  
Take here your seat again; we soon shall get  
Within our own house here, some othe●●ea●:  
here's one will fetch it. This said; down again  
His Father sat: and to his son, his Swain  
Strewed fair green Osiers; and imposed thereon  
A good soft Sheepskin, which made him a Throne.  
Then he opposed to them, his last-left Roast;  
And in a wicker basket, bread engro●te:  
Filled luscious wine; and then took opposite seat  
To the divine Ulysses. When the meat  
Set there before them; all fell to, and 〈◊〉.  
When they had fed; the Prince said, pray thee say,  
Whence comes this guest? what seaman gave him way  
To this our Isle? I hope these feet of his  
Could walk no water; who boasts he, he is?  
I'll tell all truly Son: From ample Crete  
He boasts himself; and says, his erring feet  
Have many Cities trod: And God was he  
Whose finger wrought in his infirmity.  
But, to my Cottage, the last scape of his,  
Was from a Thespro●s Ship. What ere he is,  
I'll give him you: do what you please; His vaunt  
Is, that he is (at most) a suppliant.  
Eumaeus, (said the Prince) To tell me this,  
You have afflicted my weak Faculties:  
For how shall I receive him to my house  
With any safety; that suspicious  
Of my young forces (should I be assayed  
With any sudden violence) may want aid  
To shield myself? Besides, if I go home,  
My mother is with too doubts overcome:  
If she shall stay with me, and take fit care  
For all such guests, as there seek guestive fare;  
Her husband's bed respecting, and her same  
Amongst the people: Or her blood may frame  
A liking to some wooer, such as best  
May bed her in his house; not giving lest.  
And thus am I unsure, of all means free  
To use a Guest there, fit for his degree.  
But, being thy Guest; I'll be his supply,  
For all weeds, such as mere necessity  
Shall more than furnish: Fit him with a sword,  
And set him where his heart would have been shored.  
Or (if so pleased) receive him in thy Shed:  
I'll send thee clothes, I vow; and all the bread  
His wish would eat: that to thy men and thee  
He be no burden. But that I should be  
His mean to my house; where a company  
Of wrong-professing wooers, wildly live;  
I will in no sort author; lest they give  
Fowl use to him; and me, as gravely grieve.  
For what great act can any one achieve  
Against a multitude? Although his mind  
Retain a courage of the greatest kind?  
For all minds have not force in one degree.  
Ulysses' answered; O Friend, since 'tis free  
For any man, 
Ulysses' to Tel●.  to change fit words with thee;  
I'll freely speak. Me thinks, a wolvish power  
My heart puts on, to tear and to devour;  
To hear your affirmation; that (in spite  
Of what may fall on you, made opposite;  
Being one of your proportion, birth, and age,  
These wooers should in such injustice rage.  
What should the cause be? Do you wilfully  
Endure their spoil? Or hath your Empery  
Been such amongst your people; that, all gather  
In troup, and one voice; (which even God doth father)  
And vow your hate so, that they suffer them?  
Or blame your Kinsfolks faiths, before th'extreme  
Of your first stroke hath tried them? Whom a man  
When strifes, to blows rise, trusts: though battle ran  
In huge and high waves? would to heaven my spirit  
Such youth breathed, as the man that must inherit,  
Yet never touched Ulysses: or that he  
(But wandering this way) would but come, and see  
What my age could achieve (and there is Fate  
For Hope yet left; that he may recreate  
His eyes with such an object.) This my head  
Should any stranger strike off, if stark dead  
I struck not all: the house in open force  
Entering with challenge. If their great concourse  
Did over-lay me, being a man alone;  
(Which you urge for yourself) be you that one.  
I rather in mine own house wish to die  
One death for all; then so indecently  
See evermore, deeds worse than death applied;  
Guests, wronged with vile words, & blow-giving pride:  
The women-seruants dragged in filthy kind  
About the fair house; and in corners blind  
Made serve the rapes of Ruffians: Food devoured  
Idly and rudely; wine exhaust, and poured  
Through throats profane; and all about a deed,  
That's ever wooing, and will never speed.  
I'll tell you (Guest) most truly, said his Son;  
I do not think, 
Telemachus 〈…〉.  that all my people run  
One hateful course against me; Nor accuse  
Kinsfolks that I, in strifes of weight, might use▪  
But jove will have it so: our Race alone,  
(As if made singular) to one, and one  
His hand confining. Only to the King  
(jove-bred Arcesius) did La●rtes spring;  
Only to old La●rtes did descend  
Ulysses; only to Ulysses' end  
Am I the Adjunct; whom he left so young,  
That from me, to him, never comfort sprung.  
And to all these now (for their 〈◊〉) arise  
Up in their house, a brood of enemies.  
As many as in these Isles bow men's k●●●s;  
Samos, Dulychius, and the rich in Tr●●s  
Zacynthus: Or in this rough Isles command,  
So many suitors for the Nuptials stand,  
That ask my Mother; and mean space, prefer  
Their lusts to all spoil, that dishonour her.  
Nor doth she (though she loathes) deny their suits;  
Nor they denials take, though taste their fruits.  
But all this time, the sta●e of all things there  
Their throats devour; and I must shortly bear  
A part in all; and yet the periods  
Of these designs, lie in the knees of Gods.  
Of all Loves then, Eumaeus; make quick way  
To wise Penelope; and to her, say  
My safe return from Pylos; and alone  
Return thou hither, having made it known.  
Nor let (besides my Mother) any ear  
Partake thy Message; since a number bear  
My safe return displeasure. He replied;  
I know, and comprehend you; you divide,  
Your mind with one that understands you well. 
E●m. to Telem.   
But, all in one yet; may I not reveal  
To th'old hard-fated 
* Laertes.  Arcesiades  
Your safe return? who through his whole distress  
Felt for Ulysses, did not yet so grieve,  
But with his household, he had will to live;  
And served his appetite, with wine, and food;  
Surveyed his husbandry, and did his blood  
Some comforts fitting life: But since you took  
Your ship for Pylos, he would never brook,  
Or wine, or food, they say; nor cast an eye  
On any labour: but sits weeping by;  
And sighing out his sorrows, ceasselesse moans  
Wasting his body, turned all skin and bones.  
More sad news still (said he) yet; mourn he still:  
For if the rule of all men's works be will, 
Telem. to Eum.   
And his will, his way goes: mine stands inclined  
T'attend the home-turne of my 
* Intending his Father: whose retain, though he were far fr● knowing, or fully expecting: yet he desired to order all things as he were present.  nearer kind.  
Do then, what I enjoin, which given effect;  
Err not to field to him, but turn direct.  
Entreating first my Mother, with most speed;  
And all the secrecy that now serves Need,  
To send this way their storehouse Guardian,  
And she shall tell all to the aged 
* Intending to La●rtes, all that Eumaeus would have ●old.  man..  
He took his shoes up; put them on, and went.  
Nor was his absence, hid from Ioues descent,  
Divine Minerva: who took strait, to view,  
A goodly woman's shape, that all works knew:  
And, standing in the entry, did prefer  
Her sight t' Ulysses. But (though meeting her)  
His son Telemachus, nor saw, nor knew:  
The Gods clear presences, are known to few.  
Yet (with Ulysses') even the Dogs did see,  
And would not bark; but, whining lovingly,  
Fled to the Stalls far side. 
P●llas appears to Ulysses.  Where She, her eine  
Moved to Ulysses. He knew her design,  
And left the house, past the great Sheep-cotes wall,  
And stood before her. She bade, Utter all  
Now to his son; nor keep the least unlosde:  
That all the wooers deaths being now disposed,  
They might approach the Town; Affirming, she  
Not long would fail, t'assist to victory.  
This said; 
Pallas restores Ulysses' youth for ●he ●ime.  She laid her golden Rod on him;  
And with his late-worne weeds graced every limb.  
His body straitened, and his youth instilled;  
His fresh blood called up: every wrinkle filled  
About his broken eyes; and on his chin  
The brown hair spread. When his whole trim wrought in;  
She yssued; and he entered to his son:  
Who stood amazed; & thought some God had done  
His house that honour: turned away his eyes,  
And said; 
Tel●mac●us to his Father.  Now Guest, you grace another guise  
Then suits your late show; Other weeds you wear,  
And other person. Of the starry sphere  
You certainly present some deathless God.  
Be pleased, that to your here vouchsafed abode  
We may give sacred rites, and offer Gold  
To do us favour. 
Ulysses' to Telen.  He replied: I hold  
No deified state. Why put you thus on me  
A God's resemblance? I am only he  
That bears thy Father's name: for whose loved sake,  
Thy youth so grieves: whose absence makes thee take,  
Such wrong● of men. Thus kissed he him; nor could  
Forbear those tears, that in such mighty hold  
He held before: still held, still issuing ever.  
And now (the shores once broke) the springtide never  
Forbore earth from the cheeks he kissed. His son,  
(By all these violent arguments; not won  
To credit him his Father) did deny  
His kind assumpt: and said, Some Deity  
Feigned that joys cause, 
Tel. to Ulysses.  to make him grieve the more:  
Affirming, that no man, whoever wore  
The garment of mortality, could take  
(By any utmost power, his soul could make  
Such change into it: since at so much will,  
Not jove himself, could both remove, and fill  
Old age, with youth; and youth, with age so spoil  
In such an instant. You wore all the soil  
Of age but now, and were old: And but now  
You bear that young grace that the Gods endow  
Their heaven-borne forms withal. His father said: 
Vlys. 〈◊〉 his son   
Telemachus? Admire, nor stand dismayed:  
But know thy solid Father; since within,  
He answers all parts, that adorn his skin.  
There shall no more Vlyss●sses come here.  
I am the man, that now this twentieth year  
(Still under sufferance of a world of ill)  
My country earth, recover: 'Tis the will  
The Prey-professor Pallas puts in act;  
Who put me thus together; thus distract,  
In aged pieces, as even now you saw,  
This youth now rendering. 'Tis within the law  
Of her free power. Sometimes to show me poor;  
Sometimes again, thus amply to restore  
My youth, and Ornaments; She still would please.  
The God● can raise, and throw men down, with ease.  
This said; he sat: when his Telemachus poured  
Himself about him: Tears on tears, he shoured:  
And to desire of moan, increased the cloud:  
Both wept & howled, & laid out shrieks more loud;  
Then or the Bird-bone-breaking Eagle reres;  
Or Brood-kind Vulture with the crooked Seres,  
When rustic hands, their tender Aries draw,  
Before they give their wings their full-plumed Law.  
But miserably poured they from beneath  
Their lids, their tears: while both their breasts did breath  
As frequent cries: & to their fervent moan,  
The light had left the skies; if first the son  
Their dumb moans had not vented, with demand  
What Ship it was, that gave the natural land  
To his blessed feet? He then, did likewise lay  
Hand on his passion; and gave these words way.  
I'll tell thee truth, my son; The men that bear  
Much fame for shipping, 
Ulysses tells his son what ship ●e arrived in.  my Reducers were  
To long-wished Ithaca; who each men else,  
That greets their shore, give pass to where he dwells.  
The Phaeacensian Peers, in one night's date,  
(While I fast slept) fetched th' Ithacensian state:  
Graced me with wealthy gifts: Brass, store of Gold,  
And Robes fair wrought: All which have secret hold  
In Caves, that by the God's advice, I choosed.  
And now, Minerua's admonitions used  
For this retreat; that we might here dispose  
In close Discourse, the slaughters of our foes.  
Recount the number of the wooers then;  
And let me know what name they hold with men:  
That my mind, may cast over their estates  
A curious measure; & confer the rates  
Of our two powers, and theirs: to try, if we  
Alone, may propagate to victory  
Our bold encounters of them all, or prove  
The kind assistance of some others love.  
O Father (he replied) I 
Telem. to Vlys.  oft have heard  
Your counsels, and your force of hand preferred  
To mighty glory: But your speeches now,  
Your venturous mind, exceeding mighty show.  
Even to amaze they move me: for in right  
Of no fit counsel, should be brought to fight,  
Two men, against th'able faction of a throng.  
No one two, o one ten; No twice ten strong  
These wooers are: but more by much. For know,  
That from Dulychius there are fifty two;  
All choice young men: and every one of these  
Six men attend. From Samos crossed the Seas  
Twice twelve young Gallants. From Zacynthus came  
Twice ten. Of Ithaca, the best of name  
Twice six. Of all which, all the State they take,  
A sacred Poet, and a Herald make.  
Their delicacies, two (of special sort  
In skill of banquets) serve. And all this port  
If we shall dare t'encounter; all thrust up  
In one strong roof: have great care lest the cup  
Your great mind thirsts, exceeding bitter taste;  
And your retreat, commend not to your haste  
Your great attempt; but make you say, you buy  
Their pride's revenges, at a price too hy.  
And therefore (if you could) 'twere well you thought  
Of some assistant. Be your spirit wrought  
In such a man's election, as may lend  
His succours freely, and express a Friend  
His Father answered: Let me ask of thee; 
Vlys. to Telem.   
Hear me, consider; and then answer me.  
Think'st thou if Pallas, and the King of skies  
We had to Friend; would their sufficiencies  
Make strong our part? Or that some other yet  
My thoughts must work for? These (said he) are set  
Aloft the clouds; 
Telema●hu.  and are sound aids indeed:  
As powers not only, that these men exceed;  
But bear of all men else the high command;  
And hold, of Gods, an overruling hand.  
Well then (said he) not these shall sever long  
Their force and ours, 
Ulysses.  in fights assured, and strong.  
And then, twixt us, and them, shall Mars prefer  
His strength; to stand our great distinguisher;  
When, in mine own Roofs, I am forced to blows.  
But when the day, shall first her fires disclose;  
Go thou for home, and troup up with the wooers;  
Thy will with theirs joined; power with their rude powers  
And after, shall the Herdsman guide to Town  
My steps; my person wholly overgrown  
With all appearance of a poor old Swain,  
Heavy, and wretched. If their high disdain  
Of my vile presence; make them, my desert  
Affect with contumelies; let thy loved heart  
Beat in fixed confines of thy bosom still,  
And see me suffer, patient of their ill.  
ay, though they drag me by the heels, about  
Mine own free earth, and after hurl me out;  
Do thou still suffer. Nay, though with their Darts  
They beat, and bruise me; bear. But these foul parts  
Persuade them to forbear; and by their names  
Call all with kind words: bidding, for their shames  
Their pleasures cease. If yet they yield not way;  
There breaks the first light of their fatal day.  
In mean space, mark this: When the chiefly wise  
Minerva prompts me; I'll inform thine eyes  
With some given sign; & then, all th'arms that are  
Aloft thy Roof, in some near room prepare  
For speediest use. If those brave men inquire  
Thy end in all; still rake up all thy fire  
In fair cool words: and say; I bring them down  
To scour the smoke off; being so overgrown  
That one would think, all fumes that ever were.  
Breathed since Ulysses' loss, reflected here.  
These are not like the arms, he left behind  
In way for Troy. Besides, jove prompts my mind  
In their remove apart thus, with this thought:  
That, if in height of wine, there should be wrought  
Some harsh contention twixt you; this apt mean  
To mutual bloodshed, may be taken clean  
From out your reach; and all the spoil prevented  
Of present Feast: perhaps, even then presented  
My Mother's Nuptials, to your long kind vows.  
Steel itself, ready; draws a man to blows.  
Thus make their thoughts secure; to us alone  
Two Swords, two Darts; two shields left; which see done  
Within our readiest reach; that at our will  
We may resume, and charge; And all their skill,  
Pallas and jove, that all just counsels breath;  
May darken, with secureness, to their death.  
And let me charge thee now, as thou art mine;  
And as thy veins mine own true blood combine:  
Let (after this) none know Ulysses near.  
Not any one of all the household there;  
Not here, the Herdsman: Not Laertes be  
Made privy: nor herself, Penelope.  
But only let thyself, and me work out  
The women's thoughts, of all things borne about  
The wooers hearts: and then thy men approve,  
To know who honours, who with reverence love  
Our well-weighed Memories; and who is won  
To fail thy fit right, though my only Son.  
You teach (said he) so punctually now, 
Tel●machus to his Father.   
As I knew nothing; nor were sprung from you.  
I hope, hereafter, you shall better know  
What soul I bear; and that it doth not let  
The least loose motion, pass his natural seat.  
But this course you propose, will prove, I fear,  
Small profit to us; and could wish your care  
Would weigh it better, as too far about.  
For Time will ask much, to the sifting out  
Of each man's disposition, by his deeds.  
And, in the mean time, every wooer feeds  
Beyond satiety; nor knows how to spare.  
The women yet, since they more easy are  
For our inquiry; I would wish you try  
Who right your state, who do it injury.  
The men I would omit: and these things make  
Your labour, after. But to undertake  
The wooers war; I wish your utmost speed,  
Especially, if you could cheer the deed,  
With some Oftent from jove. Thus (as the Sire  
Consented to the Son) did here expire  
Their mutual speech. And now the Ship was come  
That brought the young Prince, & his soldiers home.  
The deep Haven (reached) they drew the Ship ashore;  
took all their Arms out, and the rich Gifts bore  
To Clitius house. But to Ulysses' Court  
They sent a Herald first, to make report  
To wise Penelope, that safe at field  
Her Son was left: yet since the Ship would yield  
Most haste to her; he sent that first; and them  
To comfort with his utmost, the extreme  
He knew she suffered. At the Court, now met  
The Herald, and the Herdsman; to repeat  
One message to the Queen. Both whom (arrived  
Within the gates:) Both to be foremost strived  
In that good News. The Herald, he for haste  
Amongst the Maids bestowed it; thinking placest  
The Queen amongst them. Now (said he) O Queen,  
Your loved Son is arrived. And then was seen  
The Queen herself: To whom the herdsman ●ould  
All that Telemachus enjoined he should.  
All which discharged; his steps, he back bestows,  
And left, both Court and City, for his Sows.  
The wooers than grew sad; soule-vext, and all  
Made forth the Court. When, by the mighty wall,  
They took their several seat, before the gates;  
To whom Eurymachus, initiates  
Their uttered grievance. O (said he) my Friends; 
〈…〉.   
A work right great begun, as proudly ends▪  
We said, Telemachus should never make  
His voyage good; nor this shore ever take  
For his returns receipt: and yet we fail,  
And he performs it. Come, let's man a Sail  
The best in our election; and bestow  
Such soldiers in her, as can swiftest row:  
To tell our friends, that waylay his retreat  
'Tis safe performed: and make them quickly get  
Their ship for Ithaca. This was not said,  
Before Amphinomus in Port displayed  
The ship arrived: her sails then under stroke,  
And Oars resumed. When laughing, thus he spoke:  
Move for no messenger: these men are come; 
〈…〉   
Some God hath either told his turning home,  
Or they themselves have seen his ship gone by:  
Had her in chase, and lost her. Instantly  
They rose, and went to Port: found drawn to Land  
The Ship; the soldiers taking Arms in hand.  
The wooers themselves, to counsel went, in throng:  
And not a man beside, or old, or young,  
Let sit amongst them. Then Eupitheus' Son  
(Antinous) said: See what the Gods have done:  
They only, have delivered from our ill  
The men we waylaid; 
〈…〉  every windy hill  
Hath been their watchtower; where by turns they stood  
Continual Sentinel. And we made good  
Our work as well: For (Sun, once set) we never  
Slept wink ashore, all night; But made sail ever  
This way, and that; even till the morning kept  
Her sacred Station; so to intercept  
And take his life, for whom our ambush lay;  
And yet hath God, to his return given way.  
But let us prosecute with counsels, here  
His necessary death: nor any where  
Let rest his safety; for if he survive,  
Our sails will never, in wished Havens arrive.  
Since he is wise, hath soul, and counsel to  
To work the people, who will never do  
Our faction favour. What we then intent  
Against his person, give we present end  
Before he call a counsel; which, believe  
His spirit will hast, & point where it doth grieve▪  
Stand up amongst them all, and urge his death  
Decreed amongst us. Which complaint, will breathe  
A fire about their spleens; and blow no praise  
On our ill labours. Lest they therefore raise  
Power to exile us from our Native earth,  
And force our lives societies to the birth  
Of foreign countries: let our speeds prevent  
His coming home, to this austere complaint;  
(At field and far from Town, or in some way  
Of narrow passage:) with his latest day  
Shown to his forward youth: his goods and lands,  
Left to the free division of our hands:  
The Moovables made all, his Mother's dower,  
And his whoever, Fate affords the power  
To celebrate with her, sweet Hyme●s rites.  
Or if this please not; but your appetites  
Stand to his safety, and to give him ●eate  
In his whole birthright; let us look to eat  
At his cost never more: but every man  
Haste to his home: and wed with whom he can  
At home; and there, lay first about for dower,  
And then the woman give his second power  
Of Nuptial liking: And, for last, apply  
His purpose, with most gifts, and destiny.  
This, silence caused; whose breach, at last, begun  
Amphinomus, the much renowned Son  
Of Nisus, surnamed Aretiades;  
Who from Dulychius (full of flowery Leas)  
Led all the wooers; and in chief did please  
The Queen with his discourse; because it grew  
From roots of those good minds that did endue  
His goodly person: 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Bonis mentibus the plural number used ever by Homer.  who (exceeding wi●e)  
Used this speech: Friends, I never will adui●e  
The Prince's death: for 'tis a damned thing  
To put to death the issue of a King.  
First therefore, let's examine, what applause  
The Gods will give it. If the equal Laws  
Of jove approve it, I myself will be  
The man shall kill him; and this company  
Exhort to that mind: If the Gods remain  
Adverse, and hate it; I advise, refrain.  
This said Amphinomus, and pleased them all:  
When all arose, and in Ulysses' Hall  
took seat again. Then, to the Queen was come  
The wooers plot, to kill her son at home:  
Since their abroad design had missed success.  
The Herald Medon (who the whole address  
Knew of their counsels) making the report.  
The Goddess of her sex, with her fair sort  
Of lovely women; at the large Hals door  
(Her bright cheeks clouded, with a veil she wore)  
Stood, and directed to Antinous  
Her sharp reproof; which she digested thus:  
Antinous? 
Penel: to Antin.  composed of injury,  
Plotter of mischief? Though reports that fly  
Amongst our Ithacensian people; say  
That thou, of all that glory in their sway,  
Art best in words and counsels; thouart not so.  
Fond, busy fellow, why plott'st thou the woe  
And slaughter of my Son? and dost not fear  
The Precedents of suppliants? when the ear  
Of jove stoops to them? 'Tis unjust to do  
Slaughter for slaughter; or pay woe, for woe:  
Mischief for kindness; Death for life sought then,  
Is an injustice to be loathed of men.  
Serves not thy knowledge, to remember when  
Thy Father fled to us; who (moved to wrath  
Against the Taphian thieves) pursued with scathe  
The guiltless Thesprots; in whose peoples fear,  
Pursuing him for wreak, he landed here.  
They after him, professing both their prize  
Of all his chiefly valued Faculties,  
And more prized life. Of all whose bloodiest ends  
Ulysses curbed them, though they were his friends.  
Yet thou, like one that no Law will allow  
The least true honour, eatest his house up now  
That fed thy Father: wooest for love, his wife,  
Whom thus thou grievest; & seekest her sole sons life.  
Cease, I command thee; and command the rest,  
To see all thought of these foul fashion's eeast.  
Eurymachus replied; Be confident, 
Eurym: to Pene●   
Thou all of wit made; the most famed descent  
Of King Icarius: Free thy spirits of fear:  
There lives not any one; nor shall live here  
Now, nor hereafter; while my life gives heat  
And light to me on earth▪ that dares entreat  
With any ill touch, thy well-loved Son;  
But here I vow, and here will see it done,  
His life shall stain my Lance. If on his knees  
The City-racer, 
* Ulysses.  Laert●ades,  
Hath made me sit; put in my hand his food,  
And held his red wine to me: shall the blood  
Of his Telemachus, on my hand lay  
The least pollution, that my life can stay?  
No: I have ever charged him not to fear  
Death's threat from any; And for that most dear  
Love of his Father, he shall ever be  
Much the most lou●d, of all that live to me.  
Who kills a guiltless man, from Man may fly;  
From God his searches, all escapes deny.  
Thus cheered his words; but his affections still  
Feared not to cherish foul intent to kill,  
Even him, whose life to all lives he preferred.  
●he Queen went up; and to her love appeared  
Her Lord so freshly; that she wept, till sleep  
(By Pallas forced on her) her eyes did steep  
In his sweet humour. When the Even was come,  
The Godlike Herdsman reached the whole way home.  
Ulysses and his Son, for supper dressed  
A yeare-old Swine; and ere their Host and Guest  
Had got their presence; Pallas had put by  
With her fair rod, Ulysses' royalty;  
And rendered him, an aged man again,  
With all his vile Integuments; lest his Swain  
Should know him in his trim, & tell his Queen,  
In these deep secrets, being not deeply seen.  
He seen; 
Telem. to Eum.  to him, the Prince these words did use:  
Welcome divine Eumaeus; Now what news  
Employs the City? Are the wooers come  
Back from their Scout dismayed? Or here at home  
Will they again attempt me? 
●um to Telem.  He replied,  
These touch not my care; I was satisfied  
To do, with most speed, what I went to do;  
My message done, return. And yet, not so  
Came my news first; a Herald (met with there)  
Forstalled my Tale, and told how safe you were.  
Besides which merely necessary thing;  
What in my way chanced, I may over-bring,  
Being what I know, and witnessed with mine eyes.  
Where the Hermaean Sepulchre doth rise  
Above the City: I beheld take Port  
A Ship; and in her, many a man of sort:  
Her freight was shields and Lances; and, me thought  
They were the wooers: but of knowledge, nought  
Can therein tell you. The Prince smiled, and knew  
They were the●wooers; casting secret view  
Upon his Father. But what they intended  
Fled far the Herdsman: whose Swains labours ended,  
They dressed the Supper; which, past want, was eat.  
When all desire sufficed, of wine, and meat;  
Of other human wants, they took supplies  
At Sleeps soft hand; who sweetly closed their eyes.  
The End of the xvi. Book.   

THE SEVENTEENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
TElemachus returned to Town,  
Makes to his curious mother known  
In part, his Travails. After whom  
Ulysses to the Court doth come,  
In good Eumaeus guide; and priest  
To witness of the Wooers Feast▪  
Whom (though twice ten years did bestow  
In far off parts) his Dog doth know.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  

Ulysses shows  
through all disguise:  
Whom his dog knows;  
who knowing dies.    
But when airs rosy birth (the Morn) arose,  
Telemachus did for the Town dispose  
His early steps; and took to his command  
His fair long Lance, well sorting with his hand.  
Thus, parting with Eumaeus: Now my friend, 
Telem. to Eum.   
I must to Town; lest too far I extend  
My Mother's moan for me: who till her eyes  
Mine own eyes witness; varies tears and cries  
Through all extremes. Do then this charge of mine,  
And guide to Town this hapless guest of thine;  
To beg elsewhere his further Festival:  
Give, they that please, I cannot give to all:  
Mine own wants take up for myself my pain.  
If it incense him, he the worst shall gain;  
The lovely truth I love, and must be plain.  
Alas Friend (said his Father) nor do I  
Desire at all your further charity.  
'Tis better beg in Cities, 
Vlys▪ to his Son.  then in Fields,  
And take the worst a beggars fortune yields.  
Nor am I apt to stay in Swine-sties more  
How ever: ever the great Chief before  
The poor Ranks must, to every step obey.  
But go; your man, in my command shall sway:  
Anon yet to, by favour; when your fires  
Have comforted the cold heat, age expires;  
And when the Sun's flame, hath beside corrected  
The early air abroad; not being protected  
By these my bare weeds, from the morning's frost;  
Which (since so much ground is to be engrossed  
By my poor feet as you report) may give  
Too violent charge, to th'heat by which I live.  
This said; his Son went on, with sprightly pace,  
And to the wooers, studied little grace.  
Arrived at home; he gave his javeline stay  
Against a lofty Pillar; and bold way  
Made further in. When, having so far gone  
That he transcended, the fair Porch of Stone;  
The first by far, that gave his entry, eye  
Was Nurse Euryclea; who th'embroidery  
Of Stools there set; was giving Cushions fair:  
Who ran upon him, and her rapt repair  
Shed tears for joy. About him gathered round  
The other Maids; his head, and shoulders, crowned  
With kisses and embraces. From above  
The Queen herself came, like the Queen of Love;  
Or bright Diana: Cast about her Son  
Her kind embraces: with effusion  
Of loving tears; kissed both his lovely eyes,  
His cheeks, and forehead; and gave all supplies  
With this entreaty: Welcome sweetest light;  
I never had conceit, 
Penel. to Telem.  to set quick sight  
On thee thus soon; when thy loved father's fame  
As far as Pylos, did thy spirit inflame:  
In that search ventured all unknown to me.  
O say, By what power cam'st thou now to be  
Mine eyes dear object? He returned reply,  
Move me not now: 
Telem to his Mother.  when you my escape descry  
From imminent death; to think me fresh entrapped;  
The feared wound rubbing, felt before I scap't.  
Double not needless passion, on a heart  
Whose joy so green is, and so apt t'invert:  
But pure weeds putting on, ascend and take  
Your women with you: that ye all may make  
Vows of full Hecatombs, in sacred fire  
To all the Godheads; If their only Sire  
Vouchsafe revenge of guest-rites wronged, which he  
Is to protect, as being their Deity.  
My way shall be directed to the hall  
Of common Concourse, that I thence may call  
A stranger; who from off the Pylian shore  
Came friendly with me; whom I sent before  
With all my soldiers; but in chief did charge  
Pyraeus with him, wishing him t'enlarge  
His love to him, at home, in best affair,  
And utmost honours, till mine own repair.  
Her Son, thus spoken; his words could not bear  
The wings too easily through her either ear:  
But putting pure weeds on; made vows entire  
Of perfect Hecatombs, in sacred fire  
To all the Deities; if their only Sire  
Vouchsafed revenge of guest-rites, wronged; which he  
Was to protect, as being their Deity.  
Her Son left house: In his fair hand, his Lance;  
His dogs attending, and on every glance  
His looks cast from them; Pallas put a grace  
That made him seem of the celestial race.  
Whom (come to concourse) every man admired:  
About him thronged the wooers, and desired  
All good to him in tongue●; but in their hearts  
Most deep ills threatened, to his most deserts.  
Of whose huge rout, once free; he cast glad eye  
On some, that long before his infancy,  
Were with his Father, great, and gracious:  
Grave Halytherses, Mentor, Antiphus;  
To whom he went: took seat by them. And they  
inquired of all things, since his parting day.  
To them Pyraeus came, and brought his Guest  
Along the City thither; whom not left  
The Prince respected; nor was long before  
He rose and met him: The first word yet; 
Pyrae. to Tel●m.  bore  
Pyraeus from them both: whose haste, besought  
The Prince to send his women, to see brought  
The Gifts from his house, that Atrides gave,  
Which, his own roofs, he thought, would better save.  
The wise Prince answered, I can scarce conceive  
The way to these works. If the wooers reave  
By privy Stratagem, my life at home:  
I rather wish, Pyraeus may become  
The Master of them, than the best of these.  
But, if I sow in their fields of excess,  
Slaughter, and ruin; then thy trust employ,  
And to me joying, bring thou those with joy.  
This said; he brought home his grief-practisd Guest;  
Where both put off, both oiled, and did invest  
Themselves in rich Robes; washed, and sat, and eat.  
His Mother, in a fair chair, taking seat  
Directly opposite: her Loom applied;  
Who (when her Son and Guest, had satisfied  
Their appetites with feast) said; 
〈…〉  O my Son,  
You know, that eue● since your Sire was won  
To go in Agamemnon's guide to Troy;  
Attempting sleep, I never did enjoy  
One nights good rest; but made my quiet bed  
A Sea blown up with sighs; with tears still shed  
Imbrued and troubled: yet, though all your miss  
In your late voyage, hath been made for this,  
That you might know th'abode your Father made.  
You shun to tell me what success you had.  
Now then, before the insolent access  
The wooers strait will force on us; express  
What you have heard. I will (said he) and true.  
We came to Py●os, 
〈…〉.  where the studious due  
That any Father could afford his Son;  
(But new arrived▪ from some course he had run  
To an extreme length, in some voyage vowed)  
Nestor, the Pastor of the people, showed  
To me arrived, in turrets thrust up high;  
Where not his brave Sons, were more loved then I.  
Yet of th'unconquered ever-sufferer  
Ulysses; never he could set his ear  
Alive, or dead, from any earthy man.  
But to the great Lacedaemonian  
(Atri●es, famous for his Lance) he sent  
With horse and Chariots; Me, to learn th'event  
From his Relation; where I had the view  
Of Argine Hel●en, whose strong beauties drew  
(By wills of Gods) so many Graecian States▪  
And Troyans', under such laborious fates.  
Where Menelaus asked me, what affair  
To Lacedaemon, rendered my repair.  
I told him all the truth: 
〈◊〉. to Telem.  who made reply▪  
O deed of most abhorred indecency!  
A sort of Impotents attempt his bed,  
Whose strength of mind, hath Cities leveled?  
As to a lions den, when any Hind  
Hath brought her young Calves, to their rest inclined;  
When he is ranging hills, and hearby dales,  
To make, of Feeders there, his Festivals:  
But turning to his lustre; Calves, and Dam,  
He shows abhorred death, in his anger's flame:  
So (should Ulysses find this rabble, housed  
In his free Turrets, courting his espoused)  
F●ule death would fall them. O, I would to jove,  
Phoebus, and Pallas, that (when he shall prove  
The broad report of his exhausted store,  
True with his eyes) his Nerves and Sinews wore  
That vigour then, that in the Lesbian towers  
(Provoked to wrestle with the iron powers  
Philomelides' vaunted) he approved;  
When, down he hurled his Challenger, and moved  
Huge shouts from all the Achives then in view.  
If, once come home, he all those forces drew  
About him there to work: they all were dead,  
And should find bitter his attempted bed.  
But, what you ask and sue for, I (as far,  
As I have heard, the true-spoke Marinar)  
Will tell directly; nor delude your ear.  
He told me, that an Island did enspheare  
(In much discomfort) great Laertes son;  
And that the Nymph Calypso (over-ronne  
With his affection) kept him in her Caves,  
Where men, nor Ship, of power to brook the waves,  
Were near his convoy to his country's Shore▪  
And where herself, importuned evermore  
His quiet stay; which not obtained, by force,  
She kept his person from all else recourse.  
This told Atrides; which was all he knew;  
Nor stayed I more: but from the Gods there blue  
A prosperous wind, that set me quickly here.  
This put his Mother, quite from all her cheer: 
Theoclymenus to Penelope.   
When Theoclymenus the Augur, said:  
O woman, honoured with Ulysses' bed:  
Your Son, no doubt, knows clearly nothing more▪  
Hear me yet speak, that can the truth uncore;  
Nor will be curious. jove then, witness bear,  
And this thy Hospitable Table 〈◊〉,  
With this whole household of 〈…〉  
That, at this hour, his royal 〈…〉  
On his loved country earth; 〈…〉  
Coming, or creeping, 〈…〉  
These wooers make; and in his 〈…〉  
Seeds, that shall thrive to 〈…〉  
This, set a shipboard, 〈…〉  
And cried it out, to your 〈◊〉  
Penelope replied; Would 〈…〉  
You well should witness a most 〈…〉  
And gifts such of me, as 〈…〉  
Should greet you with, a blessed 〈…〉  
This mutual speech, past: all the 〈…〉  
Hurling the stone, and 〈…〉  
Before the Palace, in the 〈…〉  
Where otherwhiles, their 〈…〉  
Sat plotting injuries. But when 〈…〉  
Of Supper entered; and the 〈…〉  
Brought sheep from field, that filled up every way  
With those that used to furnish that purvey;  
Medon, 
〈…〉  the Herald (who of all the rest  
Pleased most the wooers and at every Feast  
Was ever near) said; You whose kind consort  
Make the fair branches of the Tree, our Court;  
Grace it within now, and your Suppers take.  
You that for health, and fair contention's sake  
Will please your minds; know, bodies must have meat;  
Play's worse than idleness, in times to eat.  
This said; all left; came in; cast by, on Thrones  
And Chairs, their garments. Their provisions  
Were Sheep, Swine, Goats; the chiefly great & fat.  
Besides an Ox, that from the Herd they got.  
And now, the King and Herdsman, from the field,  
In good way were to Town: Twixt whom was held  
Some walking conference; which thus begun  
The good Eumaeus: 
Eumae to Vlyss.  Guest, your will was won,  
(Because the Prince commanded) to make way  
Up to the City; though I wished your stay,  
And to have made you Gaurdian of my stall:  
But I, in care and fear, of what might fall,  
In after anger of the Prince; forbore.  
The checks 〈◊〉 Princes, touch their subjects sore.  
But make we hast, the day is nearly ended;  
And cold airs still, are in the Even extended.  
I know't (said he) consider all; 
Vlyss. to Eum●.  your charge  
Is given to one that understands at large.  
Haste then: hereafter, you shall lead the way;  
Afford your Staff to, if it fit your stay,  
That I may use it; since you say, our pass  
Is less friend to a weak foot, than it was.  
Thus cast he on his ne●●e, his nasty 〈◊〉,  
All patched and torn: A cord that would not slip  
For knots, and bracks, about the mouth of it,  
Made serve the turn: and then his Swain did 〈◊〉  
His forced state with a staff. Then 〈◊〉 they heard  
Their way to town: Their Cottage 〈…〉  
To Swains and Dogs. And now, 〈…〉  
The King along: his garments to a thread  
All bare, and burned; and he 〈…〉  
Upon his staff▪ at all parts 〈…〉  
And sad old beggar. But when now they got  
The rough highway; their voyage 〈…〉  
Much, 
〈…〉  of the City: where a Fount they reached,  
From whence the Town their choicest water fetched,  
That ever overflowed; and curious Art  
Was shown about it: In which, 〈…〉 part;  
Whose names, Neritus and Polyctor were,  
And famous Ithacus. It had a Sphere  
Of poplar, that ran round about the wall;  
And into it, a lofty Rock let fall,  
Continual supply of cool clear stream:  
On whose top, to the Nymphs that were supreme  
In those parts loves; a stately Altar rose;  
Where every travailer, did still impose  
Devoted sacrifice. At this fount, found  
These silly travailers, a man renowned  
For guard of Goats, which now he had in guide;  
Whose huge● stored Herd, two herdsment kept beside:  
For all Herds it excelled; and bred a seed  
For wooers only. He was Dolius seed,  
And called Melanthius. Who casting eye  
One these two there, he chid them terribly:  
And so past mean, that even the wreathed fate,  
Now on Ulysses, he did irritate.  
His fume 
Melan●●ius to Eumaeu● and Ulysses.  to this effect, he did pursue:  
Why so; 'tis now at all parts passing true,  
That ill leads ill: good evermore doth train  
With like, his like: Why thou unenuied Swain,  
Wither dost thou lead this same victles Leaguer?  
This bane of banquets; this most nasty beggar?  
Whose sight doth make one sad, it so abhors;  
Who with his standing in so many doors,  
Hath broke his back; and all his beggary tends  
To beg base crusts, but to no manly ends;  
As ask swords, or with activity  
To get a Cauldron Wouldst thou give him me,  
To farm my Stable, or to sweep my yard,  
And bring browse to my kids; and that preferred,  
He should be at my keeping for his pains,  
To drink as much ●hey, as his thirsty veins  
Would still be swilling (whey made all his fees)  
His monstrous belly, would oppress his knees.  
But he hath learned to lead ba●e life about;  
And will not work, but crouch among the rout;  
For broken meat, to cram his bursten gut.  
Yet this I'll say; and he will find it put  
In sure effect; that if he enters where  
Ulysses' roofs cast shade; the stools will there  
About his ears fly; all the house will throw;  
And rub his ragged sides, with cuffs enough.  
Past these reviles; his manless rudeness spurned  
Divine Ulysses; who, at no part turned  
His face from him, but had his spirit fed  
With these two thoughts; If he should strike him dead  
With his bestowed staff: or at his feet  
Make his direct head, and the pavement meet.  
But he bore all, and entertained a breast,  
That in the strife of all extremes did rest.  
Eumaeus, 
Eumoeuscu●seth Melm. for his rude usage of Ulysses.  frowning on him; chid him yet▪  
And lifting up his hands to heaven, he set  
This bitter curse at him: O you that bear  
Fair name to be the race of jupiter,  
Nymphs of these Fountains! If Ulysses ever  
Burned thighs to you; that hid in fat, did never  
Fail your acceptance, of or Lamb, or Kid;  
Grant this grace to me; let the man thus hid  
Shine through his dark fate: make some God his guide;  
That, to thee (Goatherd) this same Palates 
Intending his 〈◊〉 Herd, kept o●ely for the wooers dainty Pa●la●s.  pride,  
Thou drivest afore thee; he may come and make  
The scatter of the earth; and overtake  
Thy wrongs, with forcing thee to ever err  
About the City, hunted by his fear.  
And in the mean space, may some slothful Swains,  
Let lousy sickness gnaw thy Cattles Veins.  
O Gods! 
Mel●m: answer to Eumaeus.  (replied Melanthius) what a curse  
Hath this dog barked out; and can yet, do worse?  
This man, shall I have given into my hands,  
When, in a well-built Ship, to far-off Lands  
I shall transport him: That (should I want 〈◊〉)  
My sale of him, may find me victels there.  
And (for Ulysses) would to heaven, his joy  
The Siluer-bearing● bow-God, would destroy,  
This day, within his house; as sure as he  
The day of his return shall never see.  
This said, he left them, going silent on;  
But he outwent them, and took strait upon  
The Palace royal, which he entered strait;  
Sat with though wooers, and his Trenchers freight  
The Carvers gave him, of the flesh there v●nted:  
But bread, the reverend Buttleresse presented.  
He took, against Eurymachus, his place;  
Who most of all the wooers, gave him grace.  
And now, Ulysses and his Swain got near:  
When, round about them, visited their ear  
The hollow haps delicious-stricken string;  
To which, did Phaemius (near the wooers) sing.  
Then, by the hand, Ulysses took his Swain,  
And said, Eumaeus? One may here see plain  
(In many a grace) that 
* 〈◊〉.  Laertiades  
Built here these Turrets; and ('mongst others these)  
His whole Court armed, with such a goodly wall:  
The Cornish, and the Cope, Majestical:  
His double gates, and Turrets, built too strong  
For force, or virtue, ever to expugn.  
I know, the Feasters in it, now abound,  
Their Cates cast such a savour; and the sound  
The Harp gives, argues, an accomplished Feast;  
The Gods made Music, Banquet's dearest Guest.  
These things (said he) your skill may tell with ease,  
Since you are graced with greater knowledges.  
But now, consult we, how these works shall sort,  
If you will first approach this praised Court,  
And see these wooers (I remaining here)  
Or I shall enter, and yourself forbear.  
But be not you, too tedious in your stay  
Lest thrust ye be, and buffeted away.  
Brain hath no fence for blows; look to't I pray.  
You speak to one that comprehends (said he)  
Go you before; and here, adventure me.  
I have of old, been used to cuffs and blows;  
My mind is hardened; having borne the throws  
Of many a sour event, in waves, and wars;  
Where knocks and buffets are no Forreinats.  
And this same harmful belly, by no mean,  
The greatest Abstinent, can ever wean.  
Men suffer much Bane, by the Bellies rage;  
For whose sake, Ships in all their equipage  
Are armed, and set out to th'untamed Seas;  
Their bulks full fraught with ills to enemies.  
Such speech they changed: when in the yard there lay  
A dog, called Argus; which, before his way  
Assumed for Ilium; 
Ulysses' dog, ●●●●led Argus.  Ulysses bred;  
Yet stood his pleasure then, in little stead;  
(As being too young) but growing to his grace,  
Young men made choice of him for every Chase;  
Or of their wild Goats, of their Hares, or Hearts.  
But, his King gone; and he, now past his parts;  
Lay all abjectly on the Stables store,  
Before the Oxe-stall, and Mules stable door,  
To keep the clothes, cast from the Peasants hands,  
While they laid compass on Ulysses' Lands:  
The Dog, with Tickes (unlooked to) overgrown.  
But, by this Dog▪ no sooner seen, but known  
Was wise Ulysses, who (new entered there)  
Up went his Dogs laid ears; and (coming near)  
Up, he himself rose, 
The Dog dye● as soon as he had se●n Ulysses  fawned, and waged his Stern;  
Couched close his ears, and lay so: Nor discern  
Could evermore his dear-loved Lord again.  
Ulysses saw it; nor had power t'abstain  
From shedding tears: which (far-off seeing his Swain)  
He dried from his sight clean; to whom, he thus  
His grief dissembled: 'Tis miraculous,  
That such a Dog as this, should have his lair  
On such a dunghill; for his form is fair.  
And yet, I know not, if there were in him  
Good pace, or parts, for all his goodly limb.  
Or he lived empty of those inward things,  
As are those trencher-Beagles, tending Kings;  
Whom for their pleasures, or their glories ●ake,  
Or fashion; they into their favours take.  
This Dog (said he) 
Euma●us Descriptions of Ulysses' Dog.  was servant to one dead  
A huge time since. But if he bore his head  
(For form and quality) of such a height,  
As when Ulysses (bound for th' Ilium fight,  
Or quickly after) left him: your rapt eyes  
Would then admire, to see him use his Thighs,  
In strength, and swiftness. He would nothing fly,  
Nor any thing let scape. If once his eye  
Seized any wild beast, he knew strait his scent:  
Go where he would, away with him he went.  
Nor was there ever any Savage stood  
Amongst the thickets of the deepest wood  
Long time before him, but he pulled him down;  
As well by that true hunting to be shown  
In such vast coverts; as for speed of pace  
In any open Lawn; For in deep chase,  
He was a passing wise, and well-nosed Hound.  
And yet is all this good in him vncrouned  
With any grace here now. Nor he more fed  
Then any errant Cur. His King is dead,  
far from his country; and his servants are  
So negligent, they lend his Hound, no care.  
Where Masters rule not, but let Men 〈◊〉;  
You never there, see honest service done.  
That Man's half virtue, jove takes quite away,  
That once is Sunburned with the servile day.  
This said; he entered the well-builded Towers,  
Up bearing right upon the glorious wooers;  
And left poor Argus' dead. His Lords first sight,  
Since that time twenty years, bere●t his light.  
Telemachus, did far the first behold  
Eumaeus enter; and made signs he should  
Come up to him. He (noting) came, and took  
On earth, his seat. And then, the Master Cook  
Served in more banquet: Of which; part he set  
Before the wooers; part the Prince did get:  
Who sat alone; his Table placed aside;  
To which, the Herald did the bread divide.  
After Eumaeus, 
Ulysses' ruthful fashion of 〈…〉  entered strait the King,  
Like to a poor, and heavy aged thing:  
Bore hard upon his staff; and was so clad,  
As would have made his mere beholder sad.  
Upon the Ashen floor, his limbs he spread;  
And 'gainst a Cypress threshold stayed his head;  
The tree wrought smooth, and in a line direct,  
Tried by the plumb, and by the Architect.  
The Prince then bad the Herdsman give him bread,  
The finest there: and see, that prostrated  
At-all-parts-plight of his, given all the cheer  
His hands, could turn to: Take (said he) and bear  
These cates to him; and bid him beg of all  
These wooers here; and to their festival  
Bear up with all the impudence he can;  
Bashful behaviour, fits no needy man..  
He heard, and did his will: Hold Guest (said he)  
Telemachus commends these cates to thee:  
Bids thee bear up, and all these wooers implore;  
Wit must make Impudent, whom Fate makes poor.  
O jove (said he) do my poor prayers the grace,  
To make him blessedest of the mortal race:  
And every thought now, in his generous heart,  
To deeds that further my desires convert.  
Thus took he in, with both his hands his store;  
And in the uncouth Scrip that lay before  
His ill-shod feet, reposed it: whence he fed  
All time the Music to the Feasters played.  
Both jointly ending. Then began the wooers  
To put in old act, their tumultuous powers.  
When Pallas standing close, did prompt her friend,  
To prove how far the bounties would extend  
Of those proud wooers; so, to let him try,  
Who most, who lest, had learned humanity.  
However, no thought touched Minerva's mind,  
That any one should scape his wreak designed.  
He handsomely became all; crept about  
To every wooer; held a forced hand out:  
And all his work, did in so like a way,  
As he had practised begging many a day▪  
And though they knew, all beggars could do this,  
Yet they admired it, as no deed of his;  
Though far from thought of other: used expense  
And pity to him: who he was, and whence,  
inquiring mutually. Melanthius then:  
Hear me, ye wooers of the far-famed Queen,  
About this beggar: I have seen before  
This face of his; and know for certain more:  
That this Swain brought him hither. What he is,  
Or whence he came, flies me. Reply to this  
Antinous made; and mocked Eumaeus thus.  
O thou renowned Herdsman, why to us  
Brought'st thou this beggar? Serves it not Our hands,  
That other Land-leapers, and Cormorands  
(Profane poor knaves) lie on us, unconducted,  
But you must bring them? So amiss instructed  
Art thou in course of thrift, as not to know  
Thy Lords goods wracked, in this their overflow?  
Which, thinkst thou nothing, that thou call'st in these?  
Eumaeus answered; Though you may be wise,  
You speak not wisely: Who calls in a Guest  
That is a guest himself? None call to Feast  
Other then men that are of public use:  
Prophets, or Poets, whom the Gods produce;  
Physicians for men's ills; or Architects.  
Such men, the boundless earth affords respects  
Bounded in honour; and may call them well:  
But poor men, who calls? Who doth so excel  
In others good, to do himself an ill?  
But all Ulysses servants have been still  
Eyesores in your way, more than all that woe;  
And chiefly I. But what care I, for you?  
As long as these roofs, hold as thralls to none,  
The wi●e Penelope, and her Godlike Son.  
Forbear (said he) and leave this tongues bold ill;  
Antinous uses to be crossing still,  
And give sharp words: his blood that humour bears,  
To set men still together by the ears.  
But (turning then t' Antinous) O (said he)  
You entertain a Father's care of me;  
To turn these eating guests out: 'tis advise  
Of needful use for my poor faculties.  
But God doth not allow this: There must be  
Some care of poor men, in humanity.  
What you yourselves take; give; I not envy,  
But give command that hospitality  
Be given all strangers: Nor shall my powers fear,  
If this mood in me, reach my Mother's ear;  
Much less the servants, that are here to see  
Ulysses' house kept, in his old degree.  
But you bear no such mind; your wits more cast  
To fill yourself, then let another taste.  
Antinous answered him; Brave spoken man!  
Whose minds free fire, see checked, no virtue can;  
If all we wooers here, would give as much  
As my mind serves; his 
* 〈…〉  Largesse should be such  
As would for three months serve his far off way  
From troubling your house, with more cause of stay.  
This said; he took a stool up, that did rest  
Beneath the board, his spangled feet at feast:  
And offered at him: But the rest, gave all,  
And filled his fulsome Scrip with Festival.  
And so Ulysses for the present, was,  
And for the future furnished; and his pass  
Bend to the door, to eat. Yet could not leave  
Antinous so: 
Ulysses' to A●tin.  but said; Do you to give  
(Loved Lord) your presence, makes a show to me,  
As you not worst were of the company,  
But best? and so much, that you seem the King:  
And therefore, you should give some better thing,  
Then bread, like others. I will spread your praise  
Through all the wide world; that have in my days  
Kept house myself; and trod the wealthy ways  
Of other men, even to the Title, Blest;  
And often have I given an erring Guest  
(How mean soever) to the utmost gain  
Of what he wanted: kept whole troops of men;  
And had all other comings in; with which  
Men live so well, and gain the fame of Rich.  
Yet jove consumed all: he would have it so:  
To which, his mean was this; he made me go  
far off, for Egypt, in the rude consort  
Of all-waies-wandring Pirates; where, in Port  
I bade my loved men, draw their Ships ashore,  
And dwell amongst them▪ Scent out some t'explore  
Up to the Mountains; who (intemperate,  
And their inflamed bloods, bend to satiate)  
Foraged the rich fields; haled the women thence,  
And vnweaned children, with the foul expense  
Both of their fames, and bloods. The cry than flew  
Strait to the City; and the great fields grew  
With horse, and foot; and flamed with iron arms;  
When jove (that breaks the Thunder in Alarms)  
An ill flight cast amongst my men: Not one  
Inspired with spirit, to stand, and turn upon  
The fierce pursuing foe: and therefore stood  
Their ill fate thick about them: some in blood,  
And some in bondage: Toils led by constraint  
Fasting upon them. Me, along they sent  
To Cyprus, with a stranger Prince they met,  
Dmetor jasides; who th'imperial seat  
Of that sweet Island, swayed in strong command;  
And thus feel I here, Needs contemned hand.  
And what God sent (said he) this suffering bane  
To vex our banquet? Stand off; nor profane  
My board so boldly, lest I show thee here,  
Cyprus and Egypt, made more sour than there.  
You are a saucy set faced Vagabond.  
About with all you go; and they, beyond  
Discretion give thee, since they find not here  
The least proportion set down to their cheer.  
But every Fountain hath his under floods;  
It is no Bounty, to give others goods.  
O Gods (replied Ulysses) I see now,  
You bear no soul, in this your goodly show;  
Beggars at your board, I perceive, should get  
Scarce salt from your hands, if themselves brought meat:  
Since, sitting where another's board is spread,  
That flows with feast; not to the broken bread  
Will your allowance reach. Nay then (said he,  
And looked austerely) I● so saucy be  
Your suffered language, I suppose, that clear  
You shall not scape without some broken cheer.  
Thus rapt he up a stool, with which he smit  
The King's right shoulder, 'twixt his neck, and it.  
He stood him like a rock: Antinous dart  
Not stirred Ulysses: who, in his great heart  
Deep ills projected; which, for time yet, close  
He bound in silence; shook his head, and went  
Out to the Entry, where he than gave vent  
To his ●ull scrip; sat on the earth, and eat,  
And talked still to the wooers: hear me yet  
Ye wooers of the Queen. It never grieves  
A man to take blows, where for Sheep, or beeves,  
Or other main possessions, a man fights:  
But for his harmful belly, this man smites,  
Whose love to many a man, breeds many a wo.  
And if the poor have Gods, and Furies to;  
Before Antinous wear his Nuptial wreath,  
He shall be worn upon the dart of death.  
Harsh Guest (said he) sit silent at your meat,  
Or seek your desperate plight some safer seat;  
Lest by the hands, or heels, youths drag your years,  
And rend your rotten rags about your ears.  
This made the rest, as highly hate his folly,  
As he had violated something holy.  
When one (even of the proudest) thus began:  
Thou dost not nobly, thus to play the man  
On such an errant wretch: O ill disposed!  
Perhaps some sacred Godhead goes enclosed  
Even in his abject outside: For the Gods  
Have often visited these rich abodes  
Like such poor stranger Pilgrims; since their powers  
(Being always shapefull) glide through Towns and towers;  
Observing as they pass still, who they be  
That piety love, and who impiety.  
This, all men said; But he held sayings cheap:  
And all this time Telemachus did heap  
Sorrow on sorrow, on his beating heart  
To see his Father stricken; yet let part  
No tear to earth, but shook his head, and thought  
As deep as those ills, that were after wrought.  
The Queen now hearing of her poor guests stroke;  
Said to her Maid, (as to her wooer she spoke)  
I wish the famous for his Bow, the Sun  
Would strike thy heart so. Her wish (thus begun)  
Her Lady, fair Eurynome pursued  
Her execration; and did thus conclude:  
So may our vows call down from heaven, his end;  
And let no one life of the rest, extend  
His life till morning. O Eurynome  
(Replied the Queen) may all Gods speak in thee:  
For all the wooers, we should rate as foes;  
Since all their weals, they place in others woes.  
But this Antinous, we passed all, should hate,  
As one resembling black and cruel Fate.  
A poor strange wretch; begged here, compelled by need:  
Asked all, and every one gave in his deed;  
Filled his sad Scrip, and eased his heavy wants:  
Only this man, bestowed unmanly tants;  
And with a cruel blow (his force let fly)  
'Twixt neck and shoulders, show'd his charity.  
These minds (above) she and her Maids did show;  
While, at his scrip, Ulysses sat below.  
In which time, she Eumaeus called, and said:  
Go, good Eumaeus, and see soon conveyed  
The stranger to me: Bid him come and take  
My salutations for his welcomes sake;  
And my desire serve, if he hath not heard  
Or seen distressed Ulysses? who hath erred  
Like such a man; and therefore chance may fall,  
He hath, by him been met, and spoke withal.  
O Queen (said he) I wish to heaven, your ear  
Were quit of this unreverend noise you hear  
From these rude wooers; when I bring the guest:  
Such words, your ear, would let into your breast  
As would delight it, to your very heart.  
Three nights and days, I did my Roof impart  
To his fruition; (for he came to me  
The first of all men, since he fled the Sea)  
And yet he had not given a perfect end  
To his relation, of what woes did spend  
The spite of Fate on him: 
* Simil: In which Ulysses is compared with a Po●t, for the sweetness of his speech.  But as you see  
A Singer, breathing out of Deity  
Love-kindling lines; when all men seated near,  
Are rapt with endless thirst, to ever hear:  
So sweetened he, my bosom, at my meat;  
Affirming that Ulysses was in Crete,  
Where first the memories of Minos were,  
A Guest to him, there dwelling, then as dear  
As his true Father: and from thence, came he  
Tired on with sorrows; tossed from sea to sea;  
To cast himself in dust, and tumble here  
At wooers feet, for blows, and broken cheer.  
But, of Ulysses (where the Thesprots dwell,  
A wealthy people) Fame, he says, did tell  
The still suruivall: who his Native light  
Was bound for now; with treasure infinite.  
Call him (said she) that he himself may say  
This, over to me. We shall soon have way  
Given by the wooers: They, as well at Gate,  
As set within doors, use to recreate  
Their high-fed spirits. As their humours lead,  
They follow; and may well; for still they tread  
Uncharged ways here; their own wealth lying unwasted  
In poore-kept houses: only something tasted  
Their bread and wine is, by their household Swains:  
But they themselves, let loose continual Reins  
To our expenses; making slaughter still  
Of Sheep, Goats, Oxen; feeding past their fill;  
And vainly lavishing our richest wine.  
All these extending past the sacred line.  
For here lives no man, like Ulysses now  
To curb these ruins: But should he once show  
His country light, his presence; He and his  
Would soon revenge these wooers injuries.  
This said; about the house, in echoes, round,  
Her Sons strange Neesing made a horrid ●ound; 
Neezing a good Omen.   
At which, the Queen yet laughed, and said; Go● call  
The stranger to me: Heardst thou not to all  
My words last uttered, what a Sneezing broke  
From my Telemachus? From whence I make  
This sure conclusion; That the death, and fate  
Of every wooer here, is near his date.  
Call then the Guest; and if he tell as true  
What I shall ask him; Coat, cloak, all things new  
These hands shall yield him. This said; down he went  
And told Ulysses, that the Queen had sent  
To call him to her; that she might inquire  
About her husband, what her sad desire  
Urged her to ask: and if she found him true,  
Both cote, and cassock (which he needed) new  
Her hands would put on him; And that the Bread  
Which now he begged amongst the common tread;  
Should freely feed his hunger now from her;  
Who, all he wished, would to his wants prefer.  
His answer was; I will with fit speed, tell  
The whole truth to the Queen; For, passing well  
I know her Lord; since he and I have shared  
In equal sorrows. But I much am scared  
With this rude multitude of wooers here;  
The rage of whose pride, smites heaven's brazen sphere:  
Of whose rout, when one struck me for no fault;  
Telemachus, nor none else, turned th'assault  
From my poor shoulders. Therefore though she hast;  
Beseech the Queen, her patience, will see past  
The days broad light; and then, may she inquire.  
'Tis but my closer pressing to the fire  
In th●Euenings cold; because, my weeds, you know  
Are passing thin: For I made bold to show  
Their bracks to you, and prayed your kind supply.  
He heard, and hasted; and met instantly  
The Queen upon the pavement in his way:  
Who asked; what? bringst thou not 〈…〉  
Find his austere supposes? Takes 〈…〉  
Of th'unjust wooers? Or thus hard 〈…〉  
On any other doubt the house obiect●?  
He does me wrong; and gives 〈…〉  
To his feared safety. He does right (said 〈◊〉)  
And what he fears, should move the policy  
Of any wise one; taking care to shun  
The violent wooers; He bids bide, till Sun  
Hath hid his broad light: and, believe it, Queen,  
'Twill make your best course: since you two, unseen  
May pass th'encounter: you to speak more free;  
And he, your ear gain, less distractedly.  
The Guest is wise (said she) and well doth give  
The right thought use. Of all the men that live,  
Life serves none such, as these proud wooers are,  
To give a good man, cause to use his care.  
Thus (all agreed) amongst the wooers goes  
Eumaeus to the Prince; and (whispering close)  
Said; Now, my Love, my charge shall take up me,  
(Your goods, and mine) What here is, you must see  
I● fit protection. But, in chief, regard  
Your own dear safeguard; whose state, study hard,  
Lest sufferance seize you. Many a wicked thought  
Conceal these wooers; whom just jove see brought  
To utter ruin, ere it touch at us.  
So chance it, Friend (replied Telemachus)  
Your Beaver taken, go: in first of day  
Come, and bring sacrifice, the best you may.  
To me, and to th'immortals, be the care  
Of whatsoever here, the safeties are.  
This said; he sat in his elaborate Throne.  
Eumaeus (fed to satisfaction)  
Went to his charge; left both the Court and walls,  
Full of secure, and fatal Festivals.  
In which, the wooers pleasures still would sway:  
And now begun, the evens nere-endin● day.  
The End of the Seavententh Book of Homer's Odysseys.   

THE EIGHTEENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
VLysses, and Rogue Irus fight.  
Penelope, vouchsafes her sight  
To all her Wooers: who present  
Gifts to her; ravished with content.  
A certain Parle then we sing,  
Betwixt a Wooer, and the King.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  

The beggars gle●,  
the King's high fame;  
Gifts given to see  
a virtuous Dame.    
THere came a common Beggar to the Court;  
Who, in the City, begged of all resort:  
Excelled in madness of the gut; drunk, eat  
Past intermission: was most hugely great;  
Yet had no fivers in him, nor no force:  
In sight, a Man; In mind, a living Corpse.  
His true name, was Arnaeus: for his mother  
Imposed it from his birth. And yet another  
The City youth would give him (from the course  
He after took; derived out of the force  
That Need held on him: which was up, and down  
To run on all men's errands through the Town)  
Which sounded, Irus. When whose gut was come,  
He needs would bar Ulysses his own home,  
And fell to chiding him: Old man (said he)  
Your way out of the Entry, quickly see  
Be with fair Language taken; lest your stay  
But little longer, see you dragged away.  
See Sir: Observe you not, how all these make  
Direct signs at me? Charging me to take  
Your heels, and drag you out? But I take shame.  
Rise yet, y'are best; lest we two play a game  
At cuffs together. He bent brows, and said:  
Wretch! I do thee no ill; nor once upbraid  
Thy presence with a word; nor what mine eye  
By all hands sees thee given, one thought envy:  
Nor shouldst thou envy others. Thou mayst see  
The place will hold us both; and seem'st to me  
A Beggar like my sells: which who can mend?  
The Gods give most, to whom they least are Friend:  
The chief goods Gods give, is in good to end.  
But to the hands strife, of which y'are so free,  
Provoke me not, for fear you anger me;  
And lest the old man, on whose scorn you stood,  
Your lips and bosom, make shake hands in blood.  
I love my quiet well, and more will love  
To morrow then to day. But if you move  
My peace beyond my right; the war you make,  
Will never after give you will to take  
Ulysses' house into your begging walk.  
O Gods (said he) how volubly doth talk  
This eating gulf? And how his fume breaks out,  
As from an old cracked Oven? whom I will clout  
So bitterly; and so with both hands maul  
His chaps together; that his teeth shall fall,  
As plain seen on the earth, as any Sows  
That ruts the cornfields, or devours the mows.  
Come; close we now, that all may see, what wrong  
An old man tempts, that takes at cuffs, a young.  
Thus in the entry of those lofty towers,  
These two, with all spleen, spent their jarring powers:  
Antinous took it; laughed, and said; O Friends  
We never had such sport: This Guest contends  
With this vast Beggar, at the Buffets fight;  
Come, join we hands, and screw up all their spite.  
All rose in Laughters; and about them, bore  
All the ragged rout of beggars at the door.  
Then moved Antinous the victor's hire  
To all the wooers thus: There are now at fire  
Two breasts of Goat: both which, let Law set down  
Before the man, that wins the days renown,  
With all their fat and greavie: And of both  
The glorious Victor, shall prefer his tooth,  
To which he makes his choice of, from us all;  
And ever after, banquet in our Hall,  
With what our boards yield: Not a Beggar more  
Allowed to share; but all keep out at door.  
This he proposed; and this they all approved;  
To which Ulysses answered: O most loved,  
By no means should an old man; and one old  
In chief with sorrows, be so overbold  
To combat with his younger: But alas,  
Mans-owne-ill-working belly, needs will pass  
This work upon me; and enforce me too  
To beat this fellow. But then, you must do  
My age no wrong, to take my youngers' part,  
And play me foul play; making your strokes smart  
Help his to conquer: for you easily may  
With your strengths crush me. Do then right, & lay  
Your Honours on it, in your oaths, to yield  
His part no aid; but equal leave the field.  
All swore his will. But then Telemachus,  
His Father's scoffs, with comforts serious,  
Could not but answer, and made this reply.  
Guest! If thine own powers cheer thy victory,  
Fear no man's else, that will not pass it free:  
He fights with many, that shall touch but thee.  
I'll see thy guest's right paid: Thou here art come  
In my protection: and to this, the sum  
Of all these wooers (which Antinous are  
And King Eurymachus) conjoin their care.  
Both vowed it. When Ulysses, laying by  
His upper weed, his inner beggary  
Near show'd his shame: which he, with rags prevented  
Plucked from about his Thighs; and so presented  
Their goodly sight, which were so white, and great,  
And his large shoulders, were to view, so set  
By his bare rags; his arms, his breast and all,  
So broad, and brawny (their grace natural  
Being helped by Pallas, ever standing near)  
That all the wooers, his admirers were  
Beyond all measure: mutual whispers, driven  
Through all their cluster, saying; Sure as heaven,  
Poor Irus pulled upon him, bitter blows.  
Through his thin Garment, what a Thigh he shows?  
They said; But Irus felt. His Cow-herd mind  
Was moved at root. But now, he needs must find  
Facts to his brags; and forth at all parts ●it  
The servants brought him; all his arteries smit  
With fears, and tremble. Which Antinous saw,  
And said; Nay, now too late comes fear; No Law,  
Thou shouldst at first have given thy braggart vain,  
Nor should it so have swelled, if terrors strain  
Thy spirits to this pass; for a man so old,  
And worn with penuries, that still lay hold  
On his ragged person. Howsoever, take  
This vow from me, for firm; That if he make  
Thy forces stoop; and prove his own supreme;  
I'll put thee in a Ship, and down the stream  
Send thee ashore, where King Echetus reigns,  
(The roughest tyrant, that the world contains)  
And he will slit thy Nostrils, crop each ear;  
Thy shame cut off, and give it dogs to tear.  
This shook his Nerves the more. 
The buffet ●ight betwixt Ulysses and Irus:  But both were now  
Brought to the Lists; and up did either throw  
His heavy fists. Ulysses, in suspense  
To strike so home, that he should fright from thence  
His Cow-herd soul (his trunk laid prostrate there:)  
Or let him take more leisure to his fear,  
And stoop him by degrees. The last, show'd best,  
To strike him slightly; out of fear the rest  
Would else discover him. But (peace now broke)  
On his right shoulder, Irus laid his stroke.  
Ulysses' struck him, just beneath the ear,  
His jaw-bone broke, and made the blood appear.  
When strait, he strewed the dust, and made his cry  
Stand for himself; with whom, his teeth did lie,  
Spit with his blood out: and against the ground  
His heels lay sprawling. Up the hands went round  
Of all the wooers; all at point to die  
With violent laughters. Then the King did ply  
The beggars feet, and dragged him forth the Hall  
Along the Entry, to the gates, and wall:  
Where leaving him, he put into his hand  
A Staff, and bade him there use his command  
On Swine, and Dogs; and not presume to be  
Lord of the guests, or of the Beggary:  
Since he, of all men, was the scum and curse:  
And so, bade please with that, or fare yet worse.  
Then cast he on his scrip, all patched, and rend,  
Hung by a rotten cord; and back he went  
To greet the Entries threshold with his seat.  
The wooers thronged to him, and did entreat  
With gentle words his conquest; laughing still:  
Prayed jove, and all the Gods, to give his will  
What most it wished him; and would joy him most,  
Since he so happily had cleared their cost  
Of that unsavoury morsel; whom they vowed  
To see with all their utmost haste bestowed  
Aboard a ship; and for Epirus sent  
To King Echetus: on whose Throne was spent  
The worst man's seat that breathed. And thus was graced  
Divine Ulysses: who with joy embraced  
Even that poor conquest. Then was set to him  
The goodly Goat's breast promised (that did swim  
In fat and greavy) by Antinous.  
And from a Basket (by Amphinomus)  
Was two Breads given him; who (besides) renowned  
His banquet, with a golden Goblet crowned,  
And this high salutation: Frolic, Guest;  
And be those riches that you first possessed  
Restored again, with full as many joys,  
As in your poor state, I see now annoys.  
Amphinomus (said he) you seem to me  
Exceeding wise, as being the progeny  
Of such a Father, as authentic Fame  
Hath told me was so: One of honoured name,  
And great revenues in Dulychius;  
His fair name, Nisus. He is blazoned thus;  
And you to be his Son; his wisdom ●eyring,  
As well as wealth: his state, in nought impairing.  
To prove which, all ways; let me tell you this  
(As warning you to shun the miseries  
That follow full states, if they be not held  
With wisdom still at full; and so compelled  
To courses, that abode not in their brows,  
By too much swinge, their sudden overthrows)  
Of all things breathing, or that creep on earth;  
Nought is more wretched than a human● Birth.  
Blessed men, think never, they can cursed be,  
While any power lasts, to move a knee.  
But when the blessed Gods, make them feel that smart,  
That fled their Faith so; as they had no ●art,  
They bear their sufferings; and, what well they might  
Have clearly shunned, they then meet in despite.  
The Mind of Man flies still out ●f his way,  
Unless God guide, and prompt it, every day.  
I thought me once, a blessed man with men;  
And fashioned me, to all so counted then:  
Did all injustice like them; what for Lust,  
Or any pleasure, never so unjust  
I could by power, or violence, obtain;  
And gave them both in all their powers the reign:  
Bold of my Fathers, and my Brothers still;  
While which held good, my Arts seemed never ill.  
And thus is none, held simply, good or bad;  
But as his will is either mist, or had.  
All goods, Gods gifts man calls, how ere he gets them:  
And so takes all, what price so ere, God sets them.  
Says nought, how ill they come; nor will control  
That ravin in him, though it cost his soul.  
And these parts here, I see these wooers play,  
Take all that falls; and all dishonours lay  
On that man's Queen, that (tell your friends) doth bear  
No long times absence, but is passing near.  
Let God then, guide thee home; lest he may mee●●  
In his return, thy undeparted feet.  
For when he enters, and sees men so rude,  
The quarrel cannot but in blood conclude.  
This said; he sacrificed; then drunk, & then  
Referred the given Bowl, to the guide of men;  
Who walked away, afflicted at his heart;  
Shook head, and feared, that these facts would convert  
To ill in th'end. Yet had not grace to fly:  
Minerva stayed him, being ordained to die  
Upon the Lance of young Vlyssi●es.  
So, down he sat; and then did Pallas please  
T'incline the Queen's affections, to appear  
To all the wooers; to extend their cheer  
To th'utmost lightning, that still ushers death:  
And made her put on all the painted sheath,  
That might both set her wooers fancies high;  
And get her greater honour in the eye  
Even of her Son & Sovereign, then before.  
Who laughing yet (to show her humour bore  
No serious appetite to that light show)  
She told Eurynome, that not till now  
She ever knew her entertain desire  
To please her wooers eyes; but oft on fire  
She set their hate, in keeping from them still;  
Yet now she pleased t'appear: though from no will  
To do them honour; vowing she would tell  
Her son that of them, that should fit him well  
To make use of: which was, not to converse  
Too freely with their pride; nor to disperse  
His thoughts amongst them, since they used to give  
Good words; but through them, ill intents did drive.  
Eurynome replied: With good advise  
You vow his counsel, & your open guise.  
Go then, advise your Son; nor keep more close  
Your cheeks, still drowned in your eyes overflows.  
But bathe your body, & with Balms make clear  
Your thickened countenance; Vncomposed cheer,  
And ever mourning, will the Marrow wear.  
Nor have you cause to mourn; your Son hath now  
Put on that virtue, which (in chief) your vow  
Wished (as your blessing) at his birth, might deck  
His blood & person. But forbear to speak  
Of Baths, or Balming, or of beauty, now  
(The Queen replied) lest (urging comforts) you  
Discomfort much: because the Gods have won  
The spoil of my looks, since my Lord was gone.  
But these must serve. Call hither then, to me  
Hippodamia, & Antono●;  
That those our train additions may supply  
Our own deserts. And yet beside, Not I  
(With all my age) have learned the boldness yet  
T'expose myself to men, unless I get  
Some other Gracers. 
Eurynome.  This said; forth she went  
To call the Ladies; and much spirit spent  
To make their utmost speed: for now, their Queen  
Would both herself show, & make them be seen.  
But now Minerva other projects laid;  
And through Icarius 
* Pen●l●p●.  daughters Veins conveyed  
Sweet sleeps desire. In whose soft fumes, involved  
She was as soon as laid; and quite dissolved  
Were all her Lineaments. The Goddess than  
Bestowed immortal gifts on her, that men  
Might wonder at her beauties; and the beams  
That glister in the deified supreames,  
She cleared her mourning countenance up withal.  
Even such a radiance, as doth round empall  
Crowned 
* Venus.  Cytherea, when her ordered places,  
Conduct the Bevy of the dancing Graces,  
She added to her own: more plump, more high,  
And fairer than the polished ivory,  
Rendering her parts, and presence. This grace done,  
Away the Deity flew; and up did run  
Her lovely-wristed Ladies, with a noise  
That blew the soft chains from her sleeping joys.  
When she, her fair eyes wiped; and (gasping) said:  
O me unblessed! How deep a sweet sleep spread  
His shades about me? Would Diana pleased  
To shoot me with a death no more diseased,  
As soon as might be: that no more my moan  
Might waste my blood, in weep never done;  
For want of that accomplished virtue sphered  
In my loved Lord, to all the greeks preferred.  
Then she descended with her Maids, and took  
Place in the portal; whence her beamy look  
Reached every wooers heart. Yet cast she on  
So thin a veil, that through it quite there shone  
A grace so stolen, it pleased above the clear,  
And sunk the knees of every wooer there.  
Their minds so melted, in loves vehement fires,  
That to her bed she heightened all desires.  
The Prince then coming near, she said; O Son,  
Thy thoughts & judgements have not yet put on  
That constancy, in what becomes their good  
Which all expect in thee: thy younger blood  
Did sparkle choicer spirits. But, arrived  
At this full growth, wherein their Form hath thrived  
Beyond the bounds of childhood, (and when now)  
Beholders should affirm, This man doth grow  
Like the rare son of his matchless Sire,  
(His goodliness, his beauty, and his fire  
Of soul aspired to) thou mak'st nothing good  
Thy Fate, nor fortune; nor thy height of blood,  
In manage of thy actions. What a deed  
Of foul desert, hath thy gross sufferance freed  
Beneath thine own Roof? A poor stranger here  
Used most unmanly! How will this appear  
To all the world; when Fame shall trumpet out,  
That thus, and thus, are our guests beat about  
Our Court unrighted? 'tis a blaze will show  
Extremely shameful, to your name, and you.  
I blame you not, O Mother (he replied)  
That this clear wrong sustained by me, you chide:  
Yet know I, both the good and bad of all;  
Being past the years, in which young errors fall.  
But (all this known) skill is not so exact  
To give (when once it knows) things fit their fact.  
I well may doubt the press of strangers here;  
Who, bend to ill, and only my Nerves near,  
May do it in despite. And yet the jar  
Betwixt our guest and Irus, was no war  
Wrought by the wooers; nor our guest sustained  
Wrong in that action; but the conquest gained.  
And would to jove, Minerva, and the Sun,  
That all your wooers, might serve Contention  
For such a purchase as the Beggar made;  
And wore such weak heads: Some should death invade  
Strewed in the Entry; some embrew the hall,  
Till every man had vengeance capital;  
Sattled like Irus at the Gates; his head  
Every way nodding; like one forfeited  
To reeling Bacchus; Knees, nor feet, his own,  
To bear him where he's better loved or known.  
Their speeches given this end, Eurymachus  
Began his Courtship, 
Eur●m. courtship of the supposed Widow Queen queen.  and expressed it thus.  
Most wise Icarius daughter; If all those  
That did for Colchos venturous sail dispose,  
For that rich purchase; had before but seen  
Earth's richer prize, in th' Ithacensian Queen,  
They had not made that voyage; but to you,  
Would all their virtues, and their Being's vow.  
Should all the world know what a worth you store,  
To morrow then to day; and next light, more  
Your Court should banquet; since to all Dames, you  
Are far preferred; both for the grace of show,  
In Stature, Beauty; Form in every kind  
Of all parts outward; and for faultless mind.  
Alas (said she) my Virtue, 
Penel answer.  Body, Form,  
The Gods have blasted, with that only storm  
That ravished Greece to I●ion; since my Lord  
(For that war shipped) bore all my goods aboard:  
If he (returned) should come, and govern here  
My life's whole state; the grace of all things there  
His guide would heighten, as the spirit it bore:  
Which dead in me, lives; given him long before.  
A sad course I live now; heavens stern decree  
With many an ill, hath numbed and deadened me.  
He took life with him, when he took my hand,  
In parting from me to the Trojan strand:  
These words my witness; 
Ulysses' words to his wife at parting.  Woman! I conceive  
That not all th' Achives bound for Troy, shall leave  
Their Native earth, their safe returned bones;  
Fame saying, that Troy trains up approved sons  
In deeds of Arms: Brave putters off of shafts:  
For winging Lances, Masters of their crafts;  
Unmatched Riders; swift of foot; and straight  
Can arbitrate a war of deadliest weight:  
Hope then, can scarce fill all with life's supply;  
And of all, any failing; why not I?  
Nor do I know, if God hath marshaled me  
Amongst the safe-returned: Or his decree  
Hath left me to the thraldom, ordered there.  
However, all cares be thy burdens here:  
My Sire and Mother, tend as much as now,  
I, further off; more near in cares be you.  
Your Son, to man's state grown, wed whom you will:  
And (you gone) his care, let his household fill.  
Thus made my Lord his will; which heaven sees proved  
Almost at all parts; for the Sun removed  
Down to his set; ere long, will lead the night  
Of those abhorred Nuptials, that should fright  
Each worthy woman; which her second are  
With any man that breathes; her first Lords care  
Dead, because he to flesh and blood is dead;  
Which, I fear, I shall yield to, and so wed  
A second husband; and my reason is,  
Since jove hath taken from me all his bliss.  
Whom God gives over, they themselves forsake;  
Their griefs, their joys; their God, their devil make.  
And 'tis a great grief; nor was seen till now,  
In any fashion of such men as woe  
A good and wealthy woman; and contend  
Who shall obtain her, that those men should spend  
Her beeves and best Sheep, as their chiefest ends;  
But rather, that herself, and all her friends  
They should with Banquets, and rich gifts entreat;  
Their life is death, that live with others meat.  
Divine Ulysses, much rejoiced to hear  
His Queen thus fish for gifts; and keep in cheer  
Their hearts with hope, that she would wed again;  
Her mind yet still, her first intent retain.  
Antinous saw, the wooers won to give;  
And said; wise Queen, by all your means receive  
What ever bounty, any woo'r shall use;  
Gifts freely given, 'tis folly to refuse.  
For know, that we resolve not to be gone  
To keep our own roofs; till of all, some One  
Whom best you like, your long-wooed love shall win  
This pleased the rest; and every one sent in  
His present by the Herald; First had place  
Antinous gift: 
The Wooer's Gifts.  a rob of special grace,  
Exceeding full and fair; and twenty hews  
Changed lustre to it. To which, choice of shows:  
Twelve massy plated Buttons, all of Gold,  
Enriched the substance, made to fairly hold  
The rob together; all laced down before,  
Where keeps and Catches, both sides of it wore.  
Eurymachus, a golden Tablet gave;  
In which did Art, her choicest works engrave;  
And round about, an Amber verge did run,  
That cast a radiance from it, like the Sun.  
Eurydamas, two servants had, that bore  
Two goodly Earring; whose rich hollows wore  
Three Pearls in either, like so many eyes,  
Reflecting glances, radiant as the skies.  
The King Pysander, great Polyctors' heir,  
A Casket gave, exceeding rich and fair.  
The other, other wealthy gifts commended  
To her fair hand; which took, and strait ascended  
This Goddess of her sex, her upper State.  
Her Ladies, all her gifts elaborate,  
Up bearing after. All to dancing then  
The wooers went, and songs delightful strain;  
In which they frolicked, till the Evening came:  
And then raised sable Hesperus his flame.  
When, for their Lights within; they set up there  
3. Lamps, whose weeks were wood exceeding sere,  
And passing porous; which they caused to burn,  
Their matter ever ministered by turn  
Of several Handmaids. Whom Ulysses (seeing  
Too conversant with wooers; ill agreeing  
With guise of maids) advised in this fair sort:  
Maids of your long-lackt King; 
Ulysses ●o his Wives' women.  keep you the port  
Your Queen's chaste presence bears? Go, up to her,  
Employ your Looms, or Rocks, and keep ye there:  
I'll serve to feed these lamps; should these Lords dances  
Last till Aurora cheered us with her glances.  
They cannot weary me, for I am one  
Borne to endure, when all men else have done.  
They wanton broke out in Laughters all;  
Looked on each other: and to terms did fall  
Cheek-proud Melantho, who was Dolius seed,  
Kept by the Queen, that gave her dainty breed  
Fit for her daughter: and yet won not so  
Her heart to her, to share in any woe  
She suffered for her Lord: But she was great  
With great Eurymachus; and her loves heat  
In his bed quenched. And this choleric thing,  
Bestowed this railing Language on the King.  
Base Stranger; you are taken in your brain,  
You talk so wildly: Never you, again  
Can get where you were borne; 
Me●antho to Vysses.  and seek your bed  
In some Smiths Hovel, or the Market stead;  
But here you must take confidence to prate  
Before all these; for fear can get no state  
In your wine-hardy stomach. Or, 'tis like  
To prove your native ga●be: your tongue will strike  
On this side of your mouth still, being at best.  
Is the man idle-brained for want of rest?  
Or proud, because he beat the roguish beggar?  
Take heed Sir, lest some better man beleaguer  
Your ears with his fists; and set headlong hence  
Your bold abode here, with your blood's expense.  
He looking sternly on her; answered her:  
Dog! What broad Language giv'st thou? I'll prefer  
Your usage to the Prince; that he may fall  
Fowl on your fair limbs, till he tell them all.  
This frayed the wenches; and all strait got gone  
In ●eare, about their business: Every one  
Confessing he said well. But he stood now  
Close by the Cressets; and did looks bestow  
On all men there: his Brain employed about  
Some sharper business, then to dance it out;  
Which had not long to go. Nor therefore would  
Minerva let the wooers spleens grow cold,  
With too good usage of him; that his heart  
Might fret enough, and make his choler smart.  
Eurymachus, provoked him first, and made  
His fellow laugh, with a conceit he had  
Fetch far; from what was spoken long before;  
That his poor form, perhaps some Deity bore.  
It well may chance (said he) some God doth bear  
This man's resemblance: For, thus standing near  
The glistering Torches; his slicked head doth throw  
Beams round about it, as those Cressets do.  
For not a hair he hath to give it shade.  
Say, will thy heart serve t'undertake a Trade  
For fitting wages? Should I take thee hence  
To walk my grounds, and look to every Fence:  
Or plant high trees: thy hire should raise thy forces;  
Food store, & clothes. But these same idle courses  
Thou a●t so prompt in, that thou wilt not work,  
But forage up and down, and beg, and lurk  
In every house, whose Roofs hold any will  
To feed such fellows. That thy gut may fill,  
Gives end to all thy Being. He replied;  
I wish, at any work, we two were tried;  
In height of Spring time, when heavens lights are long;  
I, a good crooked scythe, that were sharp, and strong:  
You, such another, where the grass grew deep;  
Up by day break, and both our labours keep  
Up, till slow darkness eased the labouring light;  
Fasting all day, and not a crumb till night:  
We than should prove our either workmanship.  
Or if (again) beeves, that the goad, or whip  
Were apt t'obey, before a tearing Blow:  
Big, lusty beasts: Alike in bulk and brow;  
Alike in Labour, and alike in strength;  
Our task four Acres, to be Tilled in length  
Of one sole day: Again than you should try  
If the dull glebe, before the Plough should fly;  
Or I, a long Stitch could bear clean, and even.  
Or lastly; if the guide of earth & heaven  
Should stir stern war up, either here or there;  
And that, at this day, I had double Spear,  
And Shield, and steel Cask, fitting for my brows;  
At this work likewise, midst the foremost blows  
Your eyes should note me; and get little cause  
To twit me with my bellies sole applause.  
But you affect, t'affect with injury,  
Your mind ungentle; seem in valour high,  
Because against few; and those, not of the best  
Your conversation hath been still professed.  
But if Ulysses (landed on his earth,  
And entered on the true right of his birth)  
Should come & front ye; strait, his ample Gates  
Your feet would hold, too narrow for your Fates.  
He frowned, raged, called him wretch; and vowed  
To be his death, since he durst prove so proud  
Amongst so many: to tell him so home  
What he affected. Asked, if overcome  
With wine he were; or (as his Minion said)  
Talked still so idly; and were palsied  
In his minds instruments: or was proud, because  
He got from Irus off, with such applause?  
With all which, snatching up a stool, he threw:  
When old Ulysses, to the knees withdrew,  
Of the Dulychian Lord Amphinomus,  
As if he feared him. His dart missing thus  
His aged object: and his Page's hand,  
(A Boy, that waited on his cups command,  
Now holding of an Ewer to him) he smit.  
Down fell the sounding Ewer; and after it,  
The guiltless Page, lay sprawling in the dust,  
And crying out. When all the wooers thrust  
A tumult up amongst them; wishing all,  
The rogue had perished in some Hospital,  
Before his life there, stirred such vpro●● 〈◊〉▪  
And with rude speeches, spice their pleasures cup.  
And all this for a Beggar, to fulfil  
A filthy Proverb: Good still yields 〈◊〉.  
The Prince cried out on them, to let ●he bad  
Obscure the good so; Told them they were mad;  
Abused their banquet; 
Telem mocks the wooers, yet wins their praise.  and affirmed some God.  
Tried masteries with them: Bade them take their lo●d  
Of food and wine: Sat up, or fall to bed  
At their free pleasures; and since he gave head  
To all their freedoms; why should they mistake  
Their own rich humours for a beggars sake?  
All bit their lips to be so taken down;  
And taught the course that should have been their own;  
Admired the Prince; and said, he bravely spoke.  
But Nisus Son then, struck the equal stroke,  
And said, O Friends, let no man here disdain  
To put up equal speeches; nor maintain  
With serious words, an humour; Nor with stroke,  
A Stranger in another's house provoke,  
Nor touch the meanest servant; but confine  
All these dissensions in a bowl of wine:  
Which fill us Cupbearer; that having done  
Our nightly sacrifice, we may atone  
Our powers with sleep; resigning first the guest  
Up to the Prince, that holds all interest  
In his disposure here: the House being his  
In just descent, & all the faculties.  
Th●s all approved; when Noble Mulius  
(Herald in chief, to Lord 〈◊〉  
The Wine distributed with reverend grace  
To every wooer: when the Gods given place  
With service fit, they served themselves, and took  
Th●ir parting Cups: till (when they all had shook  
The angry humour off) they bent to rest;  
And every Wooer to several Roofs addressed.  
The End of the Eighteenth Book of Homer's Odysseys.   

THE NINETEENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
VLysses and his Son, eschew  
Offending of the Wooers view  
With any Armour. His Birth's seat,  
Ulysses tells his Queen, is Crete.  
Euryclea the truth yet found,  
Discovered by a scar-healed wound,  
Which in Parnassus' tops, a Boar  
(Struck by him in his Chase) did gore.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

The King still hid  
by what he said.  
By what he did,  
informs his maid.    
YEt did Divine Ulysses keep his Roof;  
And with Minerva plotted still the proof  
Of all the wooers deaths. When thus, his Son  
He taught with these fore-counsailes: we must ron  
A close course with these Arms, & lay them by.  
And to the wooers make so fair a sky,  
As it would never thunder. Let me then  
(That you may well retain) repeat again  
What in Eumaeus Cottage, 
Ulysses former counsel to his Son, fo● disposing ●he Arms repeated.  I advised.  
If when they see your leisure exercised  
In fetching down your Arms: & ask what use  
Your mind will give them: Say, 'tis their abuse  
With smoke & rust, that makes you take them down;  
This not being like the Armoury well known  
To be the leavings of Laertes Son,  
Consorting the design for Ilium.  
Your eyes may see how much they are infected,  
As all fires vapours, ever since, reflected  
On those sole Arms. Besides, a graver thought,  
jove graves within you, lest (their spirits wrought  
Above their pitch with wine) they might contend  
At some high banquet, & to wounds transcend;  
Their Feast inverting; which, perhaps may be  
Their Nuptial feast, with wise Penelope.  
The ready weapon when the blood is up,  
Doubles the uproar, heightened by the Cup.  
Wrath's means for Act; cur●e all the ways ye can;  
As Lodestones draw the steel, so steel draw's man..  
Retain these words; nor what is good, think thus  
Received at second hand, superfluous.  
The Son obeying, did Euryclea call,  
And bade her shut (in the utter Porches) all  
The other women; till himself brought down  
His Father's Arms, which all were overgrown  
By his neglect, with rust: his Father gone,  
And he too childish, to spend thoughts upon  
Those manly Implements; but he would now  
Reform those young neglects; and th'arms bestow  
Past reach of smoke. The loving Nurse replied;  
I wish (O Son) your powers would once provide  
For wisdoms habit; See your household were  
In thrifty manage, and tend all things there.  
But if these arms must down; and every Maid  
Be shut in utter rooms; who else should aid  
Your work with light? He answered; This my guest:  
There shall not one in my house, taste my Feast,  
(Or join in my 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, They will needs turn this; Quadram (for Modium) guste●. Though the words bear no such signification: But give a Proverb then in use, Repetition: which was, He shall not join or make a spoke in the Nave of my chariot, or Chariot wheel, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifying Modiolus Rot●, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Necto.  Nave) that shall idly live,  
How ever far hence, he his home derive.  
He said, and his words stood; The doors she shut  
Of that so wel-f●ll'd house; and th'other put  
Their thoughts in act; Best Shields, helms, sharpened Lances  
Brought down; and Pallas before both, advances  
A golden Cresset, that did cast a Light,  
As if the Day sat, in the Throne of Night.  
When (half amazed) the Prince said, O my Father,  
Mine eyes, my soul's powers all in wonder gather:  
For though the walls, and goodly windbeames here,  
All all these Pillars, that their heads, so rear,  
And all of Fir; they seem yet, all of fire.  
Some God is surely with us. His wise Sire,  
Bad peace, and keep the counsels of the Gods;  
Nor ask a word: These Powers that use abodes  
Above the stars, have power from thence to shine  
Through night, and all shades, to earths in most Mine.  
Go thou for sleep; and leave me here to wake  
The women and the Queen; whose heart doth ache  
To make inquiry for myself, of me.  
He went to sleep, where lights did endlessly  
Burn in his Night-roomes: where he feasted Rest,  
Till days fair weed, did all the world invest.  
Thus was divine Ulysses left alone  
With Pallas, plotting foul confusion  
To all the wooers. Forth then came the Queen;  
Phoebe, with golden Cytherea seen,  
Her Port presented. Whom they set a Chair  
Aside the fire: The fashion circular;  
The substance Silver, and rich Elephant;  
Whose Fabric, did the cunning finger vaunt  
Of great Icmalius: who beside, had done  
A footstool for her, that did suit her Throne:  
On which, they cast an ample skin, to be  
The Cushion, for her other Royalty.  
And there she sat; about whom, came her Maids,  
Who brought upon a Table store of Breads,  
And Bolles, that with the wooers wine were crowned.  
The Embers than they cast upon the ground  
From out the Lamps, and other Fuel added;  
That still, with cheerful flame, the sad house gladded.  
Melantho, seeing still Ulysses there;  
Thus she held out her spleen: Still stranger, here?  
Thus late in night? To see what Ladies do?  
avant you wretch: hence; Go, without doors, go:  
And quickly too, lest ye be singed away  
With burning firebrands. He (thus seeing their fray  
Continued by her with such spleen) replied;  
Minion! What makes your angry blood thus chide  
My presence still? Is it, because you see  
I shine not in your wanton bravery?  
But wear these rags? It fits the needy Fate  
That makes me beg thus, of the common state.  
Such poor souls, and such beggars, yet are men;  
And even my mean means, means had to maintain  
A wealthy house; and kept a manly press;  
Was counted blessed; and the poor access  
O● any Beggar, did not scorn, but feed  
With often hand: and any man of need  
Relieved as fitted: kept my servants to,  
Not few; but did with those additions go,  
That call choice men, The Honest; who are stilled  
The rich, the great. But what such great ones build  
jove oft pulls down, as thus he ruin'd me;  
His will was such, which is his equity.  
And therefore (woman) bear you fitting hand  
On your behaviour, lest your spirit thus manned,  
And cherished with your beauties (when they wane)  
Comes down: Your pride now, being then your bane.  
And in the mean space, shun the present danger;  
Lest your bold fashion, breed your sovereigns anger.  
Or lest Ulysses come: of whom, even yet  
Hope finds some life in fate. Or, be his seat  
Amongst the merely ruined; yet his Son  
(Whose lives heat, Phoebus saves) is such a one,  
As can discover, who doth well deserve  
Of any woman here; His years, now serve.  
The Queen gave ear, & thus suppressed the flame:  
Thou quite without a brow; past female shame;  
I hear thy monstrous boldness, which thy head  
Shall pay me pains for. Thou hast heard it said,  
And from myself too; and at every part  
Thy knowledge serves thee; that (to ease my heart  
So punished in thy witness) my desire  
Dwelled on this Stranger; that I might inquire  
My lost friends Being. But 'tis ever tried,  
Both Man and God, are still forgot with Pride.  
Eurynome! Bring here this Guest a seat,  
And Cushion on it; that we two, may treat  
Of the affair in question. Set it near,  
That I may softly speak, yet he well hear.  
She did this little freely; and he sat  
Close by the Queen; who asked him, Whence, & what  
He was himself? And what th'inhabited place?  
Where lived his parents? whence he fetched his race?  
O woman (he replied) with whom, 
Ulysses' to his Queen.  no man  
That moves in earth's unbounded circle, can  
Maintain contention, for true honour given;  
Whose fame, hath reached the 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  fairly flowing heaven.  
Who, like a never-ill-deseruing King,  
That is well spoke of; First, for worshipping,  
And striving to resemble God, in Empire;  
Whose equal hand, impartially doth temper,  
Greatness, and Goodness: To whom therefore, bears  
The black earth, store of all grain; Trees confers,  
Cracking with burden, Long-lived Herds creates;  
All which, the Sea, with her sorts, emulates;  
And all this feeds, beneath his powerful hand,  
Men, valiant, many, making strong his Land  
With happy lives led; Nothing else, the cause  
Of all these blessings, but well ordered Laws;  
Like such a King, are you; in Love, in Fame,  
And all the bliss that deifies a Dame.  
And therefore, do not mix this with a moan  
So wretched, as is now in question.  
Ask not my Race, nor Country; lest you fill  
My heart yet fuller, with repeated ill:  
For I must follow it, with many tears;  
Though 'tis not seemly, to sit wounding ears  
In public Roofs, with our particular life;  
Times worst expense, is still-repeated Grief.  
I should be irksome to your Ladies here:  
And you yourself would say, you urged your ear  
To what offends it: My still-broken eine,  
Supposing wounded with your too much wine.  
Stranger (said she) you fear your own excess,  
With giving me too great a nobleness.  
The Gods, my person, Beauty, Virtue to,  
Long since subverted; when the Ilium woe  
The Greek design attempted. In which, went  
My praise, and honour. In his government  
Had I deserved your utmost grace; But now  
Sinister Deity, makes dishonour woe  
(In show of grace) my ruin. All the Peres,  
Sylvan Zacynthus, and Dulychius Spheres,  
Samos and Ithaca, strange strifes have shown,  
To win me; spending on me▪ all mine own.  
Will wed me, in my spite: And these are those,  
That take from me, all virtue to dispose  
Or Guest, or Suppliant: or take any course  
Amongst my Heralds (that should all disburse)  
To order any thing: Though I need none  
To give me grief at home; Abroad errs one  
That my veins shrink for; whom, these (holding gone)  
Their Nuptials hasten, and find me as slow.  
Good spirits prompted me, to make a show  
Of undertaking a most curious task,  
That an unmeasured space of time would ask;  
Which, they enduring long, would often say,  
When ends thy work? I soon had my delay;  
And prayed their stay: For though my Lord were dead,  
His Father's life yet, matter ministered  
That must employ me: which, (to tell them true)  
Was that great work I named. For now, near drew  
Laertes death; and on my hand did lie  
His funeral rob: whose end (being now so nigh)  
I must not leave, and lose so much begun:  
The rather, lest the Greek Dames might be won  
To tax mine honour; if a man so great  
Should greet his grave, without his winding sheet.  
Pride made them credulous; and I went on:  
When, whatsoever all the day had done,  
I made the night help, to undo again;  
Though oil, and watch it cost, and equal pain.  
Three years my wit secured me undiscerned:  
Yet, when the fourth came, by my Maids discerned  
(False careless wenches) now they were deluded:  
When (by my light discerned) they all intruded;  
Vied threatening words, and made me give it end.  
And then could I, to no more length extend  
My lingered Nuptials: Not a counsel more  
Was to be stood upon; my Parents bore  
Continual hand on me, to make me wed:  
My Son grew angry, that so ruined  
His goods were by them. He is now a man▪  
Wise in a great degree; and one that can  
Himself, give order to his household fare:  
And jove, give equal glory, to his care.  
But thus you must not pass me: I must know,  
(It may be, for more end) from whence doth grow  
Your race, and you; For I suppose you, none  
Sprung of old Oak, or justled out of stone.  
He answered; O Ulysses reverend wife!  
Yet hold you purpose to inquire my life?  
I'll tell you, though it much afflict me more  
Than all the sorrows I have felt before.  
As worthily it may: since so long time,  
As I have wandered from my Native Clime,  
Through human Cities: and in sufferance still:  
To rip all wounds up (though, of all their ill  
I touch but part) must actuate all their pain.  
But, ask you still; I'll tell, though still sustain.  
In middle of the sable Sea, 
Vlys: sained relation of himself to his wife.  there lies  
An Isle, called Crete; a ravisher of eyes:  
Fruitful, and manned with many an infinite store:  
Where ninety Cities crown the famous shore;  
Mixed with all Languaged men: There Greekes survive;  
There the great-minded Eteocretans liue:  
There the Dorensians, never out of war:  
The Cydons there; and there the singular  
Pelasgian people: There doth G●ossus stand,  
That mighty City; where had most command  
Great Ioues Disciple (Minos) who nine years  
Conferred with jove: Both great familiares  
In mutual counsels. And this Mi●os Son,  
(The mighty-minded King Deucali●●)  
Was Sire to me, & royal Idomen,  
Who with Atrides, went to Ilium then,  
My elder Brother, and the better man;  
My name Aethon. At that time began  
My knowledge of Ulysses; whom my home  
Received with guest-rites. He was thither come  
By force of weather, from the Malean coast  
But new got off; where he the Navy lost,  
Then under sail for Troy; and wind-bound lay  
Long in Amnisus; hardly got away  
From horrid storms, that made him anchor there,  
In Havens that sacred to Lucina were;  
Dreadful and dangerous. In whose bosom crept  
Lucina's Caverne. But in my roof slept  
Ulysses, shored in Crete: who first inquired  
For royal Idomen; and much desired  
To taste his guest-rites; since to him had been  
A welcome Guest my Brother Idomene.  
The tenth, or, leventh light, on Ulysses' shined  
In stay at Crete; attending then the wind  
For threatened I●ion. All which time, my house  
With love and entertainments curious  
Embraced his person: though a number more  
My hospitable roofs received before.  
His men I likewise called; and from the store  
Allowed them meal, and heat exciting wine;  
And Oxen for their slaughter; to confine  
In my free hand the utmost of their need.  
Twelve days the Greeks stayed, ere they got them freed;  
A gale so bitter blue out of the North,  
That none could stand on earth, being tumbled forth  
By some stern God. But on the thirteenth day  
The tempest ceased, & then went Greekes their way.  
Thus, many tales Ulysses told his wife,  
At most, but painting; yet most like the life:  
Of which, her heart, such sense took through her ears,  
It made her weep, as she would turn to tears.  
And as from off the Mountains melts the snow,  
Which Zephyrs breathe concealed; but was made flow  
By hollow Eurus, which so fast pours down,  
That with their Torrent, floods have overflown:  
So down her fair cheeks, her kind tears did glide;  
Her mist Lord mourning, set so near her side.  
Ulysses' much was moved to see her mourn,  
Whose eyes yet stood as dry, as Iron, or Horn,  
In his untroubled lids; which, in his craft  
Of bridling passion, he from issue saved.  
When she had given her moan so many tears,  
That now 'twas satiate: her yet loving fears  
Asked thus much further: You have thus far tried  
My loves credulity: But if gratified  
With so long stay he was with you, you can  
Describe what weed he wore; what kind of man  
Both he himself was, and what Followers  
Observed him there. Alas (said he) the years  
Have grown so many since (this making now  
Their twentieth revolution) that my show  
Of these slight notes, will set my memory sore;  
But (to my now remembrance) this he wore:  
A double purple rob, 
Ulysses' d●scription of his apparel going for Troy.  drawn close before  
With golden Buttons; pleated thick, and bore  
A facing, where a hundred colours shined:  
About the skirts, a Hound; A freckled Hind  
In full course hunted. On the fore-skirts yet,  
He pinched, and pulled her down: when with her feet,  
And all her force, she struggled hard for flight.  
Which had such life in Gold, that to the sight  
It seemed the Hind itself for every hue;  
The Hound and all, so answering the view,  
That all admired all. I observed beside  
His inner weed, so rarely beautified,  
That dumb amaze it bred; and was as thin,  
As any dry and tender Onion skin:  
As soft 'twas too, and glisterens like the Sun.  
The women were to loving wonder won  
By him and by his weeds. But (by the way)  
You must excuse me, that I cannot say  
He brought this suit from home; or had it there  
Sent for some Present; or perhaps elsewhere  
Received it for his guest-gift: For your Lord  
Had Friends not few: The Fleet did not afford  
Many, that had not fewer. I bestowed  
A well-edged sword on him; a rob that flowed  
In folds, and fullness, and did reach his feet,  
Of richest purple: Brought him to his Fleet,  
With all my honour: And beside (to add  
To all this sifted circumstance) he had  
A Herald there; in height, a little more  
Put from the earth: that thicker shoulders wore;  
A swarth complexion, and a curled head;  
His name Eurybates; and much in stead,  
He stood your King, employed in most command,  
Since most of all, his mind could understand.  
When all these signs she knew, for chiefly true;  
Desire of moan upon her beauties grew:  
And yet (even that desire sufficed) she said.  
Till this (my Guest) a wretched state arrayed  
Your ill-usd person: but from this hour forth,  
You shallbe honoured, and find all the worth  
That fits a friend. Those weeds these hands bestowed  
From out my wardrobe: those gold buttons sowed  
Before for closure, and for Ornament.  
But never more, must his return present  
The person that gave those adornments State.  
And therefore, under an abhorred Fate  
Was he induced to feed the common fame,  
To visit vile Troy; I, too vile to name.  
No more yet mourn (said he) nor thus see pined  
Your lovely person: Weeping, wast's the Mind.  
And yet I blame you not; for any Dame  
That weds one young, and brings to him, his name;  
(What ever man he is) will mourn his loss:  
Much more respectful then, must show your woes,  
That weep thus for Ulysses; who (Fame says)  
Was equal with the Gods, in all his ways.  
But where no cause is, there must be no moan:  
And therefore hear me; my Relation  
Shall lay the clear truth naked to your view;  
I heard amongst the Thesprots, for most true,  
That Lord Ulysses lived, and stood just now  
On his return for home: That wealth did flow  
In his possession; which, he made not known,  
But begged amongst the people; since alone  
He quite was left: for all his men were lost  
In getting off, from the Trinacrian Coast;  
jove and the Sun, was wroth with them, for rape  
Made of his Oxen; and no man let scape  
The rugged deeps of Neptune: Only he  
The Ships Keel only keeping, was by Sea  
Cast on the fair Phaeacian Continent;  
Where men survive, that are the God's descent;  
And like a God received him; gave him heaps  
Of wealthy gifts, and would conduct his steps  
Themselves safe home: which, he might long ago  
His pleasure make: but profit would not so.  
He gathered going, and had mighty store  
Of Gold in safeguard: so beyond the Shore  
That common sails kept, his high flood of wit  
Bore glorious top; and all the world, for it  
Hath far exceeded. All this Phaedon told,  
That doth the Sceptre of Thesprotia hold:  
Who swore to me, in household sacrifice,  
The Ship was launched, and men to man the prize;  
That soon should set him on his country earth:  
show'd me the goods, enough to serve the birth,  
That in the tenth age of his seed, should spring;  
Yet in his Court contained. But then the King  
(Your husband) for Dodona was in way;  
That from th'oraculous Oak, he might display  
Ioues will; what course for home would best prevail:  
To come in pomp; or bear a secret sail.  
But me, the King dispatched in course before;  
A Ship then bound for the Dulychian shore.  
So thus you see his safety, whom you mourn,  
Who now is passing near; and his return  
No more will punish with delays, but see  
His friends, and country: All which truth to thee  
I'll seal with sacred Oath. Be witness jove,  
Thou first, and best, of all the Throned above;  
And thou house of the great Laertes heir,  
To whose high roofs, I tender my repair;  
That what I tell the Queen, event shall crown:  
This year, Ulysses shall possess his own:  
Nay, ere the next month ends, shall here arrive;  
Nay ere it enters, here abide alive.  
O may this prove (said she;) gifts, friendship, then  
Should make your name the most renowned of men.  
But 'tis of me received; and must so sort,  
That nor my Lord shall ever see his Court,  
Nor you gain your deduction thence; for now  
The altered house doth no such man allow  
As was Ulysses (if he ever were)  
To entertain a reverend Passenger,  
And give him fair dismission. But (Maids) see  
Ye bathe his feet; and then with Tapestry,  
Best sheets, and blankets, make his bed, and lay  
Soft wascotes by him; that (lodged warm) he may  
Even till the golden-seated morning's ray,  
Enjoy good ●est; and then, with her first light,  
bath, and give alms; that cherished appetite  
He may apply within our Hall, and sit  
Safe by Telemachus. Or if th'unfit  
And harmful mind of any be so base  
To greove his age again; let none give grac●  
Of doing any deed, he shall command  
(How wroth so ever) to his barbarous hand.  
For how shall you (guest) know me for a Dame  
That pass so far, nay, turn and wind the Fame  
Of other Dames for wisdom, and the frame  
Of household usage; if your poor thin weeds  
I let draw on you, want, and worse deeds;  
That may, perhaps, cause here your latest day?  
The life of Man is short, and flies away.  
And if the Ruler's self of households, be  
Ungentle, studying inhumanity,  
The rest prove worse. But he bears all the blame:  
All men will, living, vow against his name,  
Mischiefs, and miseries; And (dead) supply  
With bitter Epitaphs, his memory.  
But if himself be noble, (noble things  
Doing, and knowing) all his Underlings  
Will imitate his Noblesse; and all guests  
Give it, in many; many interests.  
But (worthiest Queen, said he) where you command  
Baths and rich beds for me, I scorn to stand  
On such state now; nor ever thought it yet,  
Since first I left the snowy hills of Crete.  
When once I fell a shipboard, those thoughts fled;  
I love to take now (as long since) my bed:  
Though I began the use, with sleepless nights;  
I, many a darkness, with right homely rites  
Have spent ere this hour; & desired the Morn  
Would come; and make sleep to the world a scorn.  
Nor run these dainty Baths in my rude head;  
Nor any handmaid (to your service bred)  
Shall touch my ill-kept feet, unless there live  
Some poor old drudge here, that hath learned to give  
Old men good usage; & no work will fly:  
As having suffered ill, as much as I.  
But if there live, one such, in your command;  
I will not shame to give my foot, her hand.  
She gave this answer: O my loved Guest,  
There never entered these kind Roofs, for rest,  
Stranger or Friend, that so much wisdom laid  
In gage for Guest-rites, as your lips have paid.  
There lives and old maid in my charge, that knows  
The good you speak of, by her many woes;  
That nourished and brought up, with curious care,  
Th'unhappy man, your old familiar:  
Even since his Mother let him view the light,  
And oft hath felt in her weak arms, his weight.  
And she (though now much weaker) shall apply  
Her Maiden service, to your modesty.  
Euryclea, rise; and wash the feet of one,  
That is of one age with your Sovereign gone.  
Such hands, such feet hath, though of altered grace:  
Much grief in men, will bring on change apace.  
She (from her aged slumber waked) did clear  
Her heavy eyes; and instantly (to hear  
Her Sovereign's name) had work enough to dry  
Her cheeks from tears: and to his memory  
These Moans did offer: O my Son (said she)  
I never can take grief enough for thee;  
Whom Goodness hurts; & whom, even Ioues high spleen  
(Since thou art jove-like) hates the most of men.  
For none hath offered him so many Thighs;  
Nor such whole Hecatombs of sacrifice,  
Fat, and selected, as thy zeal hath done;  
For all, but praying that thy noble Son,  
Thy happy age, might see at state of man.  
And yet hath jove with Mists Cimmerean  
Put out the light of his returning day.  
And as yourself (O Father) in your way  
took these fair roofs for hospitable rights,  
Yet find (for them) our dogged women's spites:  
So he (in like course) being driven to proof  
(Long time ere this) what such a royal Roof  
Would yield his miseries; sound such usage there.  
And you (now flying the foul Language here,  
And many a filthy fact of our fair Dames)  
●ly me, like them; and put on causeless shames  
To let me cleanse your feet. For not the cause  
The Queen's command yields, is the power that draws  
My will to wash your feet. But what I do,  
Proceeds from her charge, and your reverence to.  
Since I, in soul, am stricken with a ruth  
Of your distresses, and past 
* Intending with 〈◊〉 itself: n●t his show only.  show of truth.  
Your strangeness claiming little interest  
In my affections: and yet many a Guest  
Of poor condition, hath been harboured here:  
But never any, did so right appear  
Like King Ulysses, as yourself; For state,  
Both of your stature, voice, and very gate.  
So all have said (said he) that ever yet  
Had the proportions of our figures met,  
In their observances; so right, your eye,  
Proves in your soul, your judging faculty.  
Thus took she up a Cauldron, brightly scoured,  
To cleanse his feet in: and into it, poured  
Store of cold wave▪ which on the fire she set;  
And therein bathed (being temperately heat)  
Her sovereigns feet. Who turned him from the light;  
Since suddenly, he doubted her conceit  
(So rightly touching at his state before)  
A scar now seeing on his foot, that bore  
An old note to discern him; might descry  
The absolute truth; which (witnessed by her eye)  
Was strait approved. He first received this sore,  
As in Parnassus' tops, a white toothed Boar  
He stood in chase withal; who struck him there,  
At such time, as he lived a sojourner  
With his grand Sire, Autolyc●: who, thouArt  
Of Theft and swearing (not out of the heart,  
But by equivocation) first adorned  
Your witty man withal; and was suborned  
By Ioues descent (ingenious Mer●urie)  
Who did bestow it; since so many a Thy  
Of Lambs, and Kids, he had on him bestowed  
In sacred flames; who therefore, when he vowed  
Was ever with him. And this man imposed  
Ulysses' name; the light being first disclosed  
To his first sight then; when his grand Sire came  
To see the then preferrer of his fame,  
His loved daughter. The first supper done,  
Euryclea, put in his lap, her Son,  
And prayed him to bethink, and give his name;  
Since that desire, did all desires inflame. 
Autolycus gives his Grand child Ulysses his name: from whence the Odysseys is derived 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, derived of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, ex 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 factum: (signifying dolorem proprie corporis) nam ira ex dolore oritur.   
Daughter, and Son-in-Law (said he) let then  
The name that I shall give him, stand with men;  
Since I arrived here, at the hour of pain,  
In which, mine own kind entrails did sustain  
Moan for my daughters, yet unended throes:  
And when so many men's and women's woes,  
In joint compassion met, of human birth,  
Brought forth t'attend the many feeding earth;  
Let Odysseus be his name, as one  
Exposed to just constraint of all men's moan.  
When here at home, he is arrived at state▪  
Of man's first youth; he shall initiate  
His practised feet, in travail made abroad;  
And to Parnassus, where mine own abode  
And chief means lie; address his way, where I  
Will give him from my opened treasury,  
What shall return him well; and fit the Fame  
Of one that had the honour of his name.  
For these fair gifts he went, and found all grace  
Of hands, and words, in him and all his race.  
Amphithea (his Mother's mother) to  
Applied her to his love; withal, to do  
In Grandames welcomes: both his fair eyes kissed,  
And brows; and then, commanded to assist  
Were all her sons, by their respected Sire,  
In furnishing a Feast; whose ears did fire  
Their minds with his command: who home strait led  
A five-yeares-old-male Ox; field, slew, and flayed:  
Gathered about him; cut him up with Art;  
Spitted, and roasted; and his every part  
Divided orderly. So all the day  
They spent in feast: No one man went his way  
Without his fit fill. When the Sun was set,  
And darkness rose, they slept; till days fire haet  
Th'enlightened earth: and then, on hunting went  
Both Hounds, and all Autolycus descent.  
In whose guide, did divine Ulysses go;  
Climbed steep Parnassus, on whose forehead grow  
All sylvan offsprings round. And soon they reched  
The Concaves, whence airs sounding vapours fetched  
Their loud descent. As soon as any Sun  
Had from the Ocean (where his waters run  
In silent deepness) raised his golden head:  
The early Huntsmen, all the hill had spread;  
Their Hounds before them, on the searching Trail:  
They near, and ever eager to assail.  
Ulysses, brandishing a lengthfull Lance,  
Of whose first flight, he longed to prove the chance.  
Then found they lodged a Boar, of bulk extreme,  
In such a Queach, as never any beam  
The Sun shot, pierced: Nor any pass, let find  
The moist impressions of the fiercest wind:  
Nor any storm the sternest winter drives;  
Such proof it was: yet all within, lay leaves  
In mighty thickness; and through all this, flew  
The hounds loud mouths. The sounds, the tumult threw;  
And all together roused the Boar, that rushed  
Amongst their thickest: All his brissels, pushed  
From forth his rough neck; and with flaming eyes  
Stood close, and dared all. On which horrid prize  
Ulysses first charged; whom, above the knee  
The savage struck, and raced it crookedly  
Along the skin, yet never reached the bone.  
Ulysses' Lance yet, through him, quite was thrown;  
At his right shoulder entering: at his left,  
The bright head passage to his keenness cleft,  
And show'd his point gilt, with the gushing gore.  
Down in the dust fell the extended Boar,  
And forth his life flew. To Ulysses, round  
His Uncle drew; who (woeful for his wound)  
With all Art bound it up; and with a charm  
Stayed strait the blood: went home, & when the harm  
Received full cure; with gifts, and all event  
Of joy, and love; to his loved home, they sent  
Their honoured Nephew: whose return, his Sire,  
And reverend Mother, took with joys entire:  
inquired all passages; all which, he gave  
In good relation: Nor of all, would save  
His wound from utterance: By whose scar he came  
To be discovered by this aged Dame.  
Which, when she cleansing felt, and noted well:  
Down from her Lap, into the Cauldron, fell  
His weighty foot, that made the Brass resound:  
Turned all aside, and on th'embrued ground  
spilled all the water. joy and grief together  
Her breast invaded: and of weeping weather  
Her eyes stood full: Her small voice, stuck within  
Her part expressive; till at length, his chin  
She took, and spoke to him: O Son (said she)  
Thou art Ulysses; nor canst other be:  
Nor could I know thee yet, till all my King  
I had gone over, with the warmed Spring.  
Then looked she for the Queen, to tell her all;  
And yet, knew nothing sure: though nought could fall  
In compass of all thoughts, to make her doubt.  
Minerva, that distraction struck throughout  
Her minds rapt sources; that she might not tell.  
Ulysses, noting yet her aptness well;  
With one hand took her chin; and made all show  
Of favour to her: with the other, drew  
Her offered parting closer: Asked her why,  
She, whose kind breast had nursed so tenderly  
His infant life; would now, his age destroy?  
Though twenty years had held him from the joy  
Of his loved country. But, since only she,  
(God putting her in mind) now knew, 'twas he,  
He charged her silence; and to let no ear  
In all the Court more, know his being there:  
Lest, if God gave into his wreakful hand  
Th'insulting wooers lives: he did not stand  
On any partial respect with her,  
Because his Nurse; and to the rest prefer  
Her safety therefore; But when they should feel  
His punishing finger, give her equal steel.  
What words (said she) fly your retentive powers?  
You know, you lock your counsels in your towers  
In my firm bosom: and, that I am far  
From those loose frailties. Like an Iron bar  
Or bolt of solidest stone, I will contain:  
And tell you this beside; That if you gain  
By God's good aid, the wooers lives in yours;  
What Dames are here their shameless Paramours,  
And have done most dishonour to your worth,  
My information, well shall paint you forth.  
It shall not need (said he) myself will soon  
(While thus I mask here) set on every one  
My sure observance of the worst, and best:  
Be thou then silent, and leave God the rest.  
This said, the old Dame, for more water went;  
The rest was all upon the Pavement spent,  
By known Ulysses' foot. More brought (and he  
Supplied beside with sweetest Ointments) she  
His seat drew near the fire, to keep him warm:  
And, with his pieced rags, hiding close his harm:  
The Queen came near, and said: Yet (guest) afford  
Your further patience; till, but in a word  
I'll tell my woes to you: For well I know,  
That Rests sweet Hour, her soft foot orders now:  
When all poor men, how much soever grieved,  
Would gladly get their wo-watcht powers relieved.  
But God hath given my grief a heart so great,  
It will not down with rest. And so I set  
My judgement up, to make it my delight.  
All day I mourn; yet nothing let the right  
I owe my charge, both in my work and Maids;  
And when the night brings rest to others aids,  
I toss my bed; Distress with twenty points,  
Slaught'ring the powers that to my turning joints  
Convey the vital heat. And as all night,  
Pandareus daughter (poor Edone) sings,  
Clad in the verdure of the yearly Springs;  
When she for Itylus, her loved Son  
(By Zetus issue; in his madness, done  
To cruel death) pours out her hourly moan,  
And draws the ears to her of every one;  
So flows my moan, that cuts in two my mind,  
And here and there, gives my discourse the wind;  
Uncertain whether I shall with my Son▪  
Abide still here, the safe possession  
And guard of all goods: Reverence to the bed  
Of my loved Lord; and to my far-off spread  
Fame with the people; putting still in use;  
Or follow any best Greek I can choose  
To his fit house, with treasure infinite  
Wone to his Nuptials. While the infant plight  
And want of judgement kept my Son in guide;  
He was not willing with my being a Bride,  
Nor with my parting from his Court: But now  
(Arrived at man's state) he would have me vow  
My love to some one of my wooers here,  
And leave his Court; offended that their cheer  
Should so consume his free possessions.  
To settle then a choice in these my moans,  
Hear and expound a dream, that did engrave  
My sleeping fancy. Twenty Geese, I have;  
All which, me thought, mine eye saw tasting wheat  
In water steeped, and joyed to see them eat.  
When strait, a crooke-beaked Eagle, from a hill,  
Stooped, and trust all their necks, and all did kill;  
When (all left scattered on the Pavement there)  
She took her wing up, to the Gods fair sphere:  
I, even amid my Dream, did weep and mourn,  
To see the Eagle, with so shrewd a turn,  
Stoop my sad turrets; when, me thought there came  
About my mournings, many a Grecian Dame  
To cheer my sorrows; in whose most extreme  
The Hawk came back, and on the prominent beam  
That crossed my Chamber, fell; and used to me  
A human voice, that sounded horribly;  
And said; Be confident, Icarius seed;  
This is no dream, but what shall chance indeed.  
The Geese, the wooers are: the Eagle, I,  
Was heretofore a Fowl: but now imply  
Thy husbands Being; and am come to give  
The wooers death, that on my Treasure, live.  
With this, Sleep left me; and my waking way  
I took to try, if any violent prey  
Were made of those my Fowls; which, well eno●●●●  
I (as before) found feeding at their Trough,  
Their yoted wheat. O woman (he replied)  
Thy dream can no interpretation bide,  
But what the Eagle made, who was your Lord;  
And said, himself would sure effect afford  
To what he told you; that confusion  
To all the wooers should appear; and none  
Escape the Fate, and death, he had decreed.  
She answered him: O Guest, these dreams exceed  
The Art of man t'interpret; 
The two parts of Dreams.  and appear  
Without all choice, or form; nor ever were  
Performed to all at all parts. But there are  
To these light Dreams, that like thin vapours fare,  
Two two-leaued gates; the one of ivory;  
The other, Horn. Those dreams that Fantasy  
Takes from the polished ivory Port, delude  
The Dreamer ever, and no truth include:  
Those that the glittering Horn-gate, le's abroad,  
Do evermore, some certain truth abode.  
But this my dream, I hold of no such sort  
To fly from thence; yet, which soever Port  
It had access from, it did highly please  
My Son, and me. And this, my thoughts profess;  
That Day that lights me from Ulysses' Court,  
Shall both my infamy, and curse consort.  
I therefore purpose to propose them now  
In strong Contention, Ulysses' Bow;  
Which he that easily draws; and from his draft,  
Shoots through twelve Axes (as he did his shaft, 
The proposition of Ulysses' Bow to the Wooers, determined by Penelope.   
All set up in a row; And from them all,  
His stand-farre-off kept firm) my fortunes shall  
Dispose; and take me to his house from hence,  
Where I was wed, a Maid; in confluence  
Of feast and riches: such a Court he●re then,  
As I shall ever in my dreams retain.  
Do not (said he) defer the gameful prize,  
But set to task their importunities  
With something else, than Nuptials: For your Lord  
Will to his Court and Kingdom be restored,  
Before they thread those steels, or draw his Bow.  
O Guest (replied Penelope) would you  
Thus sit, and please me with your speech; mine ears  
Would never let mine eyelids close their Spheres;  
But none can live without the death of sleep;  
Th'Immortals, in our mortal memories keep  
Our ends, and deaths by sleep; dividing so,  
(As by the Fate and portion of our woe)  
Our times spent here; to let us nightly try,  
That while we live; as much as live, we die.  
In which use, I will to my bed ascend,  
Which I bedew with tears, and sigh past end,  
Through all my hours spent; since I lost my joy,  
For vile, lewd, never-to-be-named Troy.  
Yet there, I'll prove for sleep, which take you here;  
Or on the earth, if that your custom were;  
Or have a bed, disposed for warmer rest.  
Thus left she with her Ladies, her old Guest:  
Ascended her fair chamber, and her bed:  
Whose sight did ever duly make her shed  
Tears for her Lord; which still her eyes did steep,  
Till Pallas shut them with delightsome sleep.  
The End of the Nineteenth Book of Homer's Odysseys.   

THE twentieth BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
VLysses▪ in the Wooer's Beds,  
Resolving first to kill the Maids;  
That sentence giving off; His care  
For other Objects dot● prepare.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

Ioues thunder chides; but cheers the king;  
The Wooer's prides discommfiting.    
VLysses in the Entry, la●de his head,  
And v●der him, an Oxhide newly flayed;  
Above him Sheep fells stor●; & o●●r those  
Eurynome cast Mantles. His repose  
Would bring ●o sleep yet; studying the ill  
He wished the wooers; who came by him still  
With all their wench's; laughing, wantoning  
In mutual lightness, which his heart did sting;  
Contending two ways; if (all patience fled)  
He should rush up, and strike those Strumpets dead;  
Or let that night be last, and take th'extreme  
Of those proud wooers, ●hat were so supreme  
In pleasure of their high fed fantasies.  
His heart did bark within him, to surprise  
Their spo●ts with spoils: No fell she Mastiff can  
Amongst her whelps, fly eagrer on a man  
She doth not know; yet scents him something near,  
And fain would come to please her tooth and tear;  
Then his disdain, to see his Roof so filled  
With those fowl fashions: Grew within him wild  
To be in blood of them. But finding best  
In his free judgement, to let passion rest;  
He chid his angry spirit, and beat his breast:  
And said; Forbear (my mind) and think on this:  
There hath been time, when bitter agonies  
Have tried thy patience: Call to mind the day,  
In which the Cyclops, which past manly sway  
Of violent strength, devoured thy friends; thou than  
Stoodst firmly bold, till from that hellish den  
Thy wisdom brought thee off; when nought but death  
Thy thoughts resolved on. This discourse did breathe  
The fiery boundings of his heart, that still  
Lay in that aesture; without end, his ill  
Yet manly suffering. But from side to side  
It made him toss apace: you have not tried  
A fellow roasting of a Pig before  
A hasty fire, (his belly yielding store  
Of fat, and blood) turn faster: labour more  
To have it roast, and would not have it burn;  
Then this, and that way, his unrest made turn  
His thoughts, and body; would not quench the fire,  
And yet, not have it heighten his desire  
Past his discretion; and the fit enough  
Of haste, and speed; that went to all the proof  
His well-laid plots, and his exploits required;  
Since he, but one, to all their deaths aspired.  
In this contention, Pallas 
Pallas appears to Ulysses.  stooped from heaven;  
Stood over him, and had her presence given  
A woman's form; who sternly thus began:  
Why thou most sour, and wretched-fated man  
Of all that breath! yet liest thou thus awake?  
The house, in which thy cares so toss and take  
Thy quiet up, is thine: thy wife is there;  
And such a Son, as if thy wishes were  
To be sufficed with one; they could not mend.  
Goddess (said he) 'tis true; But I contend  
To right their wrongs: and (though I be but one)  
To lay unhelpt, and wreakful hand upon  
This whole resort of impudents, that here  
Their rude assemblies never will forbear.  
And yet a greater doubt employs my care;  
That if their slaughters, in my reaches are,  
And I perform them; (jove and you not pleased)  
How shall I fly their friends? & would stand seized  
Of counsel, to resolve this care in me.  
Wretch (she replied) a friend of worse degree,  
Might win thy credence: that a mortal were,  
And used to second thee; though nothing near  
So powerful in performance, nor in care:  
Yet I, a Goddess, that have still had share  
In thy achievements, and thy persons guard,  
Must still be doubted by thy Brain, so hard  
To credit any thing above thy power,  
And that must come from heaven; if every hour  
There be not personal appearance made,  
And aid direct given, that may sense invade.  
I'll tell thee therefore clearly: If there were  
Of divers languaged men, an Army here  
Of fifty Companies; all driving hence  
Thy Sheep and Oxen, and with violence  
Offered to charge us, and besiege us round;  
Thou shouldst their prey reprize, & them confound.  
Let sleep then seize thee: To keep watch all Night,  
Consumes the spirits, and makes dull the sight.  
Thus poured the Goddess sleep into his eyes,  
And re-ascended the Olympian skies.  
When care-and-lineament-resoluing sleep,  
Had laid his temples in his golden steep;  
His, wise-in-chast-wit-worthy-wife, did rise:  
(First sitting up in her soft bed) her eyes  
Opened with tears, in care of her estate,  
Which now, her friends resolved to terminate  
To more delays; and make her marry one.  
Her silent tears (then ceased) her Orison  
This Queen of women to Diana made.  
Reverend Diana; let thy Darts invade  
My woeful bosom, and my life deprive,  
Now at this instant; or soon after drive  
My soul with Tempests forth, and give it way  
To those far-off dark Vaults, where never day  
Hath power to shine; and let them cast it down  
Where refluent Oceanus doth crown  
His curled head; where Pluto's Orchard is,  
And entrance to our after miseries.  
As such stern whirlwinds, ravished to that stream,  
Pandareus daughters, when the Gods to them  
Had reft their parents; and them left alone  
(Poor orphan children) in their Mansion.  
Whose desolate life, did loves sweet Queen incline  
To nurse with pressed Milk, and sweetest wine;  
Whom juno decked, beyond all other Dames  
With wisdoms light, and beauties moving flames:  
Whom Phoebe, goodliness of stature rendered,  
And to whose fair hands, wise Minerva tendered,  
The Loom and Needle, in their utmost skill.  
And while loves Empress scaled th' Olympian hill,  
To beg of Lightning-loving jove (since he  
The means to all things knows; and doth decree  
Fortunes, infortunes, to the mortal Race)  
For those poor virgins, the accomplished grace  
Of sweetest Nuptials: The fierce Harpies preyed  
On every good, & miserable Maid;  
And to the hateful Furies, gave them all  
In horrid service. Yet, may such Fate fall  
From steep Olympus, on my loathed head;  
Or faire●●hair'd ●hoebe, strike me instant dead:  
That I may undergo the gloomy Shore,  
To visit great Ulysses' soul; before  
I soothe my idle blood, and wed a worse.  
And yet, beneath how desperate a curse  
Do I li●e now? It is an ill, that may  
Be well endured, to mourn the whole long day;  
So nights sweet sleeps (that make a man forget  
Both bad, and good) in some degree would let  
My thoughts leave grieving. But, both day and night,  
Some cruel God, gives my sad memory sight.  
This night (me thought) Ulysses graced my bed  
In all the goodly state, with which he led  
The Grecian Army: which gave joys extreme  
To my distress, esteeming it no dream,  
But true indeed: and that conceit I had,  
That when I saw it false, I might be mad.  
Such cruel Fates, command in my life's guide.  
By this, the morning's Orient, dews had died  
The earth in all her colours; when the King  
In his sweet sleep, supposed the sorrowing  
That she vied waking in her plaintiff bed  
To be her mourning, standing by his head,  
As having known him there. Who strait arose,  
And did again within the Hall dispose  
The Carpets and the Cushions, where before  
They served the seats. The Hide, without the door  
He carried back; & then, with held up hands,  
He prayed to him, that heaven & earth commands;  
O Father jove; If through the moist and dry  
You (willing) brought me home; when misery  
Had punished me enough, by your free dooms;  
Let some of these within those inner rooms,  
(Startled with horror of some strange Ostent)  
Come here, & tell me, that great jove hath bend  
threatenings without, at some lewd men within.  
To this his prayer, jove shook his sable chin,  
And thundered from those pure clouds that (above  
The breathing air) in bright Olympus move.  
Divine Ulysses joyed, to hear it roar.  
Report of which, a woman Miller bore  
Strait to his ears; For near to him, there ground  
Milles for his Corn, that twice six women found  
Continual motion, grinding Barley meal,  
And wheat (man's Marrow.) Sleep the eyes did seal  
Of all the other women: having done  
Their usual task; which yet, this Dame alone  
Had scarce given end to; being of all the rest,  
Least fit for labour. But when these sounds, priest  
Her ears, above the rumbling of her Mill:  
She let that stand, looked out; and heavens steep hill  
Saw clear, and temperate; which made her (unware  
Of giving any comfort to his care,  
In that strange sign he prayed for) thus invoke.  
O King of men, and Gods; a mighty stroke 
The Mill●r-woman● prayer to jove, in satisfaction of Ulysses' prayer.   
Thy thundering hand laid, on the cope of stars;  
No cloud in all the air; and therefore wars  
Thou bidst to some men, in thy sure Ostent:  
Perform to me (poor wretch) the main event,  
And make this day, the last, and most extreme,  
In which the wooers pride shall solace them  
With whorish Banquets in Ulysses' Roof:  
That, with sad toil, to grind them meal enough,  
Have quite dissolved my knees: vouchsafe then, now  
Thy thunders may their latest Feast foreshow.  
This was the * 
〈…〉  Boon, Ulysses begged of jove;  
Which (with his Thunder) through his bosom drove  
A joy, that this vaunt breathed: Why now these men  
(Despite their pride) will jove make, pay me pain.  
By this, had other Maids than those that lay,  
Mixed with the wooers; made a fire like day,  
Amidst the hearth of the illustrious Hall:  
And then the Prince, like a Celestial  
Rose from his bed; to his embalmed feet, tied  
Fair shoes: his sword about his bre●st applied;  
took to his hand his sharp-piled Lance, and met  
Amidst the Entry, his old Nurse, that set  
His haste, at sudden stand; To whom he said:  
O (my loved Nurse) with what grace have you laid  
And fed my guest here? Could you so neglect  
His age, to lodge him thus? Though all respect  
I give my Mother's wisdom, I must yet  
Affirm, it failed in this: For she hath set  
At much more price, a man of much less worth,  
Without his persons note; and yet casts forth  
With ignominious hands (for his Form sake)  
A man much better. Do not faulty make  
(Good Son) the faultless. He was given his seat  
Close to her side; and food, till he would eat.  
Wine till his wish was served: For she required  
His wants, and willed him all things he desired.  
Commanded her chief Maids to make his bed;  
But he (as one whom sorrow only fed  
And all infortune) would not take his rest  
In bed, and coverings, fit for any Guest;  
But in the Entry, on an Ox's hide,  
Never at Tanners; his old Limbs implied  
In warm Sheep-fels; yet over all, we cast  
A mantle, fitting, for a man more graced.  
He took her answer: Left the house, and went  
(Attended with his dogs) to sift th'event  
Of private Plots, betwixt him and his Sire  
In common counsel. Then the crew entire  
Of all the household Maids, (Eury●lea) bade  
Bestir them through the house; and see it clad  
In all best Form: gave all their parts; and one  
She set to furnish every seat and Throne  
With Needle-workes, and purple clothes of State;  
Another set to scour and cleanse the Plate:  
Another, all the Tables to make proud  
With porous Sponges: Others, she bestowed  
In all speed to the Spring, to fetch from thence  
Fit store of water; all, at all expense  
Of pains, she willed to be: For this, to all  
Should be a day of common Festival;  
And not a wooer now should seek his home,  
Else where then there; But all were bid to come  
Exceeding early; and be raised to heaven,  
With all the entertainment could be given.  
They heard with greedy ears; and every thing  
Put strait in practice: Twenty to the Spring  
Made speed for water; Many in the house  
took pains; and all, were both laborious  
And skilled in labour. Many fell to Fell  
And cleave their wood: & all did more than well.  
Then trooped the lusty wooers in; and then  
Came all from Spring. At their heels; loaded men  
With slaughtered Brawns: of all the Herd, the prize,  
That had been long fed up in several Sties.  
Eumaeus, and his men, conveyed them there.  
He (seeing now the King) began to cheer,  
And thus saluted him: How now, my Guest?  
Have yet your virtues found more interest  
In these great wooers good respects? Or still  
Pursue they you, with all their wont ill?  
I would to heaven, Eumaeus (he replied)  
The Deities once would take in hand their pride;  
That such unseemly fashions put in frame  
In others Roofs, as show no spark of shame,  
Thus these; and to these came Melanthius,  
Great guardian of the most egregious  
Rich wooers Herds, consisting all of Goats:  
Which he, with two more drove, & made their coats  
The sounding Forticos of that fair Court.  
Melanthius (seeing the King) this former sort  
Of upland Language gave: What? still stay here?  
And dull these wooers with thy wretched cheer?  
Not gone for ever, yet? why now I see  
This strife of cuffs betwixt the beggary,  
(That yesterday assayed, to get thee gone)  
And thy more roguery, needs will fall upon  
My hands to arbitrate. Thou wilt not hence  
Till I set on thee: thy ragged impudence  
Is so fast footed. Are there not beside  
Other great Banquetants, but you must ride  
At anchor still with us? He nothing said,  
But thought of ill enough, and shook his head.  
Then came Philaetius (a chief of men)  
That to the wooers all-devouring den  
A barren Steer drove, and fat Goats; for they  
In custom were, with traffickers by sea,  
That who they would sent; and had utterance there.  
And for these likewise, the fair Porches were  
Hurdles, and Sheep-pens, as in any Fair.  
Philaetius took note in his repair,  
Of seen Ulysses; being a man as well  
Given to his minds use as to buy & sell;  
Or do the drudgery that the blood desired;  
And (standing near Eumaeus) this inquired.  
What Guest is this, that makes our house of late  
His entertainer? whence claims he the state  
His birth in this life holds? what Nation?  
What race? what country stands his speech upon?  
o'er hardly portioned, by the terrible Fates.  
The structure of his Lineaments relates  
A King's resemblance in his pomp of reign  
Even thus, in these rags. But poor erring men  
That have no firm homes, but range here and there  
As Need compels, God keeps in this earth's sphere,  
As under water: and this tune he sings,  
When he is spinning even the cares of Kings.  
Thus coming to him; with a kind of fear  
He took his hand; and (touched exceeding near  
With mere imagination of his worth)  
This salutation he sent loudly forth.  
Health! Father stranger; in another world  
Be rich and happy: though thou here art hurled  
At feet of never such insulting Need.  
O jove, there lives no one God of thy seed  
More ill to man, than thou. Thou tak'st no ruth  
(When thou thyself hast got him, in most truth:)  
To wrap him in the straits of most distress,  
And in the curse of others wickedness.  
My brows have sweat to see it; and mine eyes  
Broke all in tears; when this being still the guise  
Of worthiest men, I have but only thought,  
That down to these ills, was Ulysses wrought;  
And that (thus clad) even he is error driven,  
If yet he lives, and sees the light of heaven.  
But, if now dead, and in the house of hell,  
O me! O good Ulysses! That my weal  
Did ever wish: and when, but half a man  
Amongst the people Cephalenian;  
His bounty, to his Oxens charge preferred  
One in that youth: which now, is grown a Herd  
Unspeakable for number; and feed there  
With their broad heads, as thick, as of his ear  
A Field of Corn is to a man: yet these,  
Some men advise me, that this noted press  
Of wooers may devour; and wish me drive  
Up to their Feasts with them; that neither give  
His Son respect, though in his own free roof;  
Nor have the wit to fear th'infallible proof  
Of heavenly vengeance: but make offer now  
The long-lacked King's possessions to bestow  
In their self shares. Me thinks, the mind in me  
Doth turn as fast; as (in a flood, or Sea)  
A raging whirlpit doth; to gather in  
To fishy death, those swimmers in their sin.  
Or feeds a motion as circular  
To drive my Herds away. But while the Son  
Bears up with life, 'twere heinous wrong to run  
To other people with them; and to trust  
Men of another earth: and yet more just  
It were to venture their Laws; an main right  
Made still their Masters; then at home lose quite  
Their right, and them; and sit and grieve to see  
The wrong authorized by their gluttony.  
And I had long since fled, and tried th'event  
With other proud Kings (since, more insolent  
These are, then can be borne,) But that, even still  
I had a hope, that this (though borne to ill)  
Would one day come from some coast, & their last  
In his roofs strew, with ruins red, and vast.  
Herdsman (said he) because thou art in show,  
Nor lewd, nor indiscreet; and that I know  
There rules in thee an understanding soul,  
I'll take an oath, that in thee shall control  
All doubt of what I swear: be witness, jove,  
That swai'st the first Seat, of the throned above;  
This hospitable Table; and this house;  
That still holds title for the strenuous  
Son of Laertes; that (if so you please)  
Your eyes shall witness, Laertiades  
Arrived at home; and all these men that reign  
In such excesses here; shall here lie slain.  
He answered: Stranger! would iust jove would sign  
What you have sworn: in your eyes beams should shine  
What powers I manage; and how these my hands,  
Would rise and follow, where he first commands.  
So said Eumaeus: praying all the Sky  
That wise Ulysses might arrive and try.  
Thus while they vowed: the wooers sat as hard  
On his Son's death: but had their co●nsels scared;  
For on their left hand, did an Eagle ●ore;  
And in her seres, a fearful Pigeon bore;  
Which seen; Amphinomus presa'gd: O friends,  
Our Counsels never will receive their ends  
In this man's slaughter: let us therefore ply,  
Our bloody feast, and make his Oxen die.  
Thus came they in; cast off on seats, their cloaks;  
And fell to giving sacrificing strokes  
Of Sheep and Goats; the chiefly fat, and great;  
Slew fed up Swine, and from the Herd, a Neat.  
The inwards (roasted,) they disposd'e betwixt  
Their then observers; wine in Flagons mixed.  
The bowls Eumaeus brought; P●ilaetius, bread;  
Melanthus filled the wine. Thus drank and fed  
The feastful wooers. Then the Prince (in grace  
Of his close project) did his Father place  
Amids the paved Entry; in a Seat  
Seemelesse, and abject: a small board and meat  
Of th'only inwards. In a cup of gold  
Yet sent him wine; and bade him now drink bold;  
All his approaches, he himself would free  
'Gainst all the wooers: since he would not see  
His Court made populare: but that his Sire  
Built it to his use. Therefore all the fire  
Blown in the wooers spleens, he bade suppress;  
And that in hands, nor words they ●hould digress  
From that set peace, his speech did then proclaim.  
They bit their lips, and wondered at his aim  
I● that brave Language: when Antinons said;  
Though this speech (Grecians) be a mere upbraid;  
Yet this time give it pass: The will of Io●e  
Forbids the violence of our hands, to move;  
But of our tongues, we keep the motion free:  
And therefore, if his further jollity  
Tempt our encounter with his Braves, let's check  
His growing insolence: though pride to speak,  
Fly passing high with him. The wise Prince made  
No more spring of his speech, 
The Feast that Eur●● eastoke o● before, returned unto  but let it fade.  
And now the Heralds bore about the Town  
The sacred Hecatomb: to whose renown  
The faire-haird greeks assembled; and beneath  
Apollo's shady wood; the holy death  
They put to fire; which (made enough) they drew;  
Divided all, that did in th'end accrue  
To glorious satisfaction. Those that were  
Disposers of the Feast, did equal cheer  
Bestow on wretched Laertiades,  
With all the wooers souls: It so did please  
Telemachus to charge them: And, for these  
Minerva would not see the malices  
The wooers bore; too much contained, that so  
Ulysses moved heart, yet might higher flow  
In wreakful anguish. There was wooing there  
(Amongst the rest) a Gallant, that did ●eare  
The name of one well learned, in jests profane;  
His name Ctesippus, borne a Samiane:  
Who proud, because his Father was so rich,  
Had so much confidence, as did bewitch  
His heart with hope, to wed Ulysses' wife:  
And this man said▪ Hear me, my Lords, in strife  
For this great widow: This her guest did share  
Even feast with us, with very comely care  
Of him that ordered it: For 'tis not good  
Nor equal, to deprive Guests of their food;  
And specially, what ever guest makes way  
To that house where Telemachus doth sway.  
And therefore, I will add to his receipt,  
A gift of very hospitable weight,  
Which he may give again, to any Maid  
That bath's his grave feet; and her pains see paid;  
Or any servant else, that the divine  
Ulysses' lofty Battlements confine.  
Thus snatched he with a valiant hand, from o●●  
The poor folks common basket, a Neat, foot,  
And threw it at Ulysses: who, his head  
Shrunk quietly aside; and let it shed  
His malice on the wall. The suffering man  
A laughter raising, most Sardinian  
With scorn, and wrath mixed, at the Samian.  
Whom thus the Prince reproved; Your valour won  
Much grace Ctesippus; and hath eased your mind  
With mighty profit: yet you see it find  
No mark it aimed at; the poor strangers part  
Himself made good enough, to scape your Dart.  
But should I serve thee worthily, my Lance  
Should strike thy heart through, & (in place t'advance  
Thyself in Nuptials with his wealth) thy Sire  
Should make thy tomb here; that the foolish fire  
Of all such valours, may not dare to show  
These foul indecencies to me. I now  
Have years to understand my strength, and know  
The good and bad of things; and am no more  
At your large sufferance, to behold my store  
Consumed with patience: See my cattle slain,  
My wine exhausted; and my Bread, in vain  
Spent on your licence: For, to one then young,  
So many enemies were match too strong.  
But let me never more, be witness to  
Your hostile minds; Nor those base deeds ye do:  
For, should ye kill me, in my offered wreak,  
I wish it rather; and my death would speak  
Much more good of me, then to live and ●ee,  
Indignity, upon indignity:  
My Guests provoked with bitter words and blows;  
My women servants, dragged about my house  
To lust, and rapture. This made silence seize  
The house throughout: till Damastorides  
At length the calm brake: and said; Friend, forbear  
To give a just speech a disdainful ear:  
The Guest no more touch, nor no servant here.  
Myself, will to the Prince and Queen commend  
A motion grateful, if they please to lend  
Grateful receipt: as long as any hope  
Left wise Ulysses any passage open  
To his return in our conceits; so long  
The Queen's delays to our demands stood strong  
In cause, and reason; and our quarrels thus  
With guests; the Queen, or her Telemachus,  
Set never foot amongst our liberal Feast;  
For should the King return, though thought deceased,  
It had been gain to us, in finding him,  
To lose his wife: But now, since nothing dim  
The days breaks out, that shows he never more  
Shall reach the dear touch of his country shore,  
Sat by your Mother, in persuasion,  
That now it stands her honour much upon  
To choose the best of us; and who gives most,  
To go with him home. For so, all things lost  
In sticking on our haunt so; you shall clear  
Recover, in our no more concourse here:  
Possess your birthright wholly; eat and drink;  
And never more on our disgraces think.  
By jove, no Agelaus: For I swear  
By all my Father's sorrows; who doth err  
far off from Ithaca; or rests in death:  
I am so far from spending but my breath,  
To make my Mother any more defer  
Her wished Nuptials; That I'll counsel her  
To make her fre● choice: And beside, will give  
Large gifts to move her. But I fear to drive,  
Or charge her hence: For God will not give way  
To any such course, if I should assay.  
At this, Minerva made for foolish joy  
The wooers mad; and roused their late annoy  
To such a laughter, as would never downe.  
They laughed with others cheeks; eat meat oreflowne  
With their own bloods: their eyes stood full of tears  
For violent joys: Their souls yet thought of fears:  
Which Theoclymenus expressed, and said:  
O wretches! Why? Sustain ye (well paid)  
Your imminent ill? A night, with which Death sees;  
Your heads, and faces, hides beneath your knees.  
Shrieks burn about you: your eyes, thrust out tears:  
These fixed walls, and that main Beam that bears  
The whole house up, in bloody torrents fall:  
The Entry full of ghosts stands: Full the Hall  
Of passengers to hell: And, under all  
The dismal shades; The Sun sinks from the Poles;  
And troubled air, pours bane about your souls.  
They sweetly laughed at this: E●rymachus  
To mocks disposed, and said; This new come-t'vs  
Is surely mad, conduct him forth to light  
In th'open Market place: he thinks 'tis night  
Within the house. Eurymachus (said he)  
I will not ask for any guide of thee:  
I both my feet enjoy; have ears, and eyes,  
And no mad soul within me: and with these  
Will I go forth the doors: because I know,  
That imminent mischief must abide with you;  
Which, not a man of all the wooers here  
Shall fly, or scape. ●e all too highly bear  
Your uncurbed heads: Impieties ye commit,  
And every man affect, with forms unfit.  
This said; he left the house, and took his way  
Home to Pyraeus; who, as free as day,  
Was of his welcome. When the wooers eyes  
Changed looks with one another, and (their guise  
Of laughters, still held on) still eased their breasts,  
Of will to set the Prince against his guests:  
Affirming, that of all the men alive  
He worst luck had; and proved it worst to give  
Guests entertainment: Fo● he had one there  
A wandering Hunter out of provendere,  
An errant Beggar every way; yet thought  
(He was so hungry) that he needed nought  
But wine and Victuals: nor knew how to do;  
Nor had a spirit to put a knowledge to;  
But lived an idle burden to the earth.  
Another than stepped up; and would lay forth  
His lips in ph●ophesie, thus: But (would he hear  
His friends persuasions) he should find it were  
More profit for him, to put both aboard  
For the Sicilian people, that afford  
These 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 feet of men, good price: and this would bring  
Good means for better guests▪ These words made wing  
To his ears idly: who h●d still his eye  
Upon his Father, looking fervently  
When he would lay his long-withholding hand  
On those proud wooers. And, within command  
Of all this speech that past, Icarius heir  
(The wise Penelope) her royal chair  
Had placed of purpose. Their high dinner then  
With all pleased palates, these ridiculous men  
Fell sweetly to: as joying they had slain  
Such store of banquet. But there did not reign  
A bitterer banquet Planet in all heaven,  
Then that which Pallas, had to that day driven;  
And, with her able friend now, meant t'oppose;  
Since they, till then, were in deserts so gross.  
The End of the twentieth Book of Homer's Odysseys.   

THE XXI. BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
PEnelope proposeth now,  
To him that draws Ulysses' Bow  
Her instant Nuptials. Ithacus,  
Eumaeus, and Philaetius,  
Gives charge for guarding of the Gates;  
And he, his shaft shoots through the plates.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

The Nuptial vow,  
and Game rehearsed:  
Drawn is the Bow,  
the steels are pierced.    
PAllas (the Goddess with the sparkling eyes)  
Excites Penelope, t'obiect the prize  
(The Bow & bright steels) to the wooers strength  
And here began the strife and blood at length.  
She first aseended by a lofty stair,  
Her utmost chamber; of whose door, her fair  
And half transparent hand received the Key;  
Bright, brazen; bitted passing curiously,  
And as it hung a knob of ivory.  
And this did lead her, where was strongly kept  
The treasure Royal; in whose store lay heaped,  
Gold, Brass, and Steel, engraven with infinite Art;  
The crooked Bow, and Arrowy quiver, part  
Of that rich Magazine. In the Quiver, were  
Arrows a number; sharp, and sighing gear.  
The Bow was given by kind Eurythides  
(●phitus, fashioned like the Deities)  
To young Ulysses; when within the Roof  
Of wise Ort●locus, their pass had proof  
Of mutual meeting in M●ssena; where  
Ulysses claimed a debt: To whose pay, were  
The whole Messenian people bound; since they  
From Ithaca, had forced a wealthy prey  
Of Sheep, and Shepherds. In their ships they thrust  
●hree hundred Sheep together: for whose just  
And instat rendry▪ old L●ertes sent  
Ulysses his Ambassador, that went  
A long way in the Embassy; yet then  
Bore but the foremost prime of youngest men.  
His Father, sending first to that affair  
His gravest Councillors, and then his heir.  
Iphitus made his way there having lost  
Twelve female horse; and Mules commended most  
For use of burden; which were after cause  
Of death and fate to him. For (past all Laws  
Of hospitality) Ioues mighty son  
(Skilled in great acts) was his confusion  
Close by his house, though at that time his guest:  
Respecting neither the opposed Feast  
And hospitable Table, in that love  
He set before him; nor the voice of jove:  
But▪ seizing first his Mares, he after slew  
His host himself. From those Mares search now grew  
Ulysses known t'Iphitus; who that Bow  
At their encounter, did in love bestow,  
Which great Eurytus hand had bo●ne before  
(Iphitus Father) who (at deaths sad door)  
In his steep Turret's, left it to his Son.  
Ulysses gave him a keen Falchion  
And mighty Lance; and thus began they there  
Their fatal Loves; for after, never were  
Their mut●all Tables to each other known;  
Because jougs' son th'unworthy part had shown  
O● slaughtering this Godlike loving man,  
Eurytus son; who with that Bow began  
And ended love t'Vlysses: who so dear  
A gift esteemed it, that he would not bear  
In his black fleet that guest-rite to the war;  
But, in fit memory of one so far  
In his affection, brought it home, and kept  
His treasure with it, where till now it slept.  
And now the Queen of women had intent  
To give it use; and therefore made ascent  
Up all the stairs height to the chamber door:  
Whose shining leaves two bright Pilasters bore  
To such a close, when both together went;  
It would resist the air in their consent.  
The Ring she took then, and did draw aside  
A bar that ran within, and then implied  
The Key into the Lock; which gave a sound  
(The Bolt then shooting) as ● pasture ground  
A Bull doth Low, and make the valleys ring:  
So loud the Lock hummed, when it loosed his spring,  
And open the doors flew. In she went along  
The lofty chamber, that was boarded strong  
With heart of Oak; which many years ago  
The Architect did smooth and polish so,  
That now as then, he made it freshly shine;  
And tried the evenness of it with a Line.  
There stood in this room, Presses that enclosed  
Robes odorferous; by which reposed  
The Bow was upon pins: Nor from it far  
Hung the round Quiver, glittering like a Star;  
Both which, her white extended hand took down:  
Then sat she low, and made her lap a Crown  
Of both those Relics; which she wept to see,  
And cried quite out with loving memory  
Of her dear Lord: To whose worth, paying then  
Kind debts enough: She left; and to the men  
Vowed to her wooing, brought the crooked Bow,  
And shaft-receiving Quiver, that did flow  
With arrows, beating sighs up where they fell.  
Then, with another Chest, replete as well  
With Games won by the King, of Steel and Brass,  
Her Maids attended. Past whom, making pass  
To where her wooers were; She made her stay  
Amids the fair Hall door, and kept the ray  
Of her bright countenance hid with veils so thin,  
That though they seemed t'expose, they let love in;  
Her Maids on both sides stood; and thus she spoke.  
Hear me, ye wooers, that a pleasure take  
To do me sorrow, and my house invade  
To eat and drink; as if 'twere only made  
To serve your Rapines: My Lord long away;  
And you allowed no colour for your stay  
But his still absence; striving who shall frame  
Me for his wife; and (since 'tis made a game)  
I here propose divine Ulysses' Bow  
For that great Masterpiece, to which ye vow.  
He that can draw it, with least show to strive,  
And through these twelve Ax-heads, an arrow drive;  
Him will I follow, and this house forego,  
That nourished me a Maid: now furnished so  
With all things fit; and which I so esteem  
That I shall still live in it in my dream.  
This said, she made Eumaeus give it them.  
He took, and laid it by; and wept for woe,  
And like him, wept Philaetius; when the Bow  
Of which his King was bearer, he beheld.  
Their tears, Antinous manhood much refeled;  
And said, Ye rustic fools! that still each day  
Your minds give over to this vain dismay,  
Why weep ye (wretches?) and the widows eyes  
Tempt with renewed thought; that would otherwise  
Depose her sorrows, since her Lord is dead,  
And tears are idle? Sat, and eat your bread,  
Nor whisper more a word; or get ye gone,  
And weep without doors: Let this Bow alone  
To our ou-matcht contention: For I fear,  
The Bow will scarce yield draft to any here.  
here no such man lives, as Laertes Son  
Amongst us all: I knew him; Thought puts on  
His looks sight now, me thinks, though then a child.  
Thus show'd his words doubt, yet his hopes enstild  
His strength, the stretcher of Ulysses' string.  
And his steels piercer: But his shaft must sing  
Through his piercst palate first; whom so he wronged  
In his free roof; and made the rest ill tongued  
Against his virtues. Then the sacred heat  
That spirited his Son, did further set  
Their confidence on fire; and said: O Friends,  
jove hath bereft my wits: The Queen intends  
(Though I must grant her wise) ere long to leave  
Ulysses' Court; and to her bed receive  
Some other Lord: yet notwithstanding, I  
Am forced to laugh, and set my pleasures high  
Like one mad sick. But wooers, since ye have  
An object for your trials now so brave,  
As all the broad Achaean earth exceeds:  
As sacred Pylos; as the Argive breeds;  
As black Epyrus, as Mycena's birth;  
And as the more-famed Ithacensian earth;  
All which, yourselves well know, and o●t have said;  
(For what need hath my Mother of my aid  
In her advancement?) Tender no excuse,  
For least delay; nor too much time profuse  
In stay to draw this Bow; but draw it strait;  
Shoot, and the steels pierce: make all see how slight  
You make these poor bars, to so rich a prize.  
No eagrer yet? Come on: My faculties  
Shall try the Bows strength, and the pierced steel:  
I will not for my reverend Mother feel  
The sorrows that I know will seize my heart,  
To see her follow any, and depart  
From her so long-held home: But first extend  
The Bow and Arrow to their tendered end.  
For I am only to succeed my Sire  
In guard of his games; and let none aspire  
To their besides possession. This said;  
His purple rob he cast off. By he laid  
His well-edged sword; and first, a several pit  
He digged for every Axe, and strengthened it  
With earth, close rammed about it: On a rew  
Set them of one height, by a Line he drew  
Along the whole twelve; and so orderly  
Did every deed belonging (yet his eye  
Never before beholding how 'twas done)  
That in amaze rose all his lookers on.  
Then stood he near the door, & proved to draw  
The stubborn Bow: Thrice tried, & thrice gave Law  
To his uncrowned attempts: the fourth assay  
With all force offering, which a sign gave stay  
Given by his Father; though he show'd a mind  
As if he stood right heartily inclined  
To perfect the exploit: when, all was done  
In only drift to set the wooers on.  
His weakness yet confessed; he said, O shame  
I either shall be ever of no name,  
But prove a wretch: Or else I am too young,  
And must not now prefume on powers so strong  
As sinews yet more growing, may engraft,  
To turn a man quite over with a shaft.  
Besides, to men whose Nerves are best prepared;  
All great Adventures, at first proof, are hard.  
But come, you stronger men, attempt this Bow,  
And let us end our labour. Thus, below  
A well-ioyned board he laid it; and close by,  
The brightly-headed shaft: then throned his Thy  
Amidst his late-left seat. Antinous then  
Bad all arise: but first, who did sustain  
The cups state ever; and did sacrifice  
Before they eat still: and that man, bade rise,  
Since on the others right hand he was placed;  
Because he held the right hands rising, graced  
With best success still. This direction won  
Supreme applause; and first, rose Oe●ops Son  
Liodes, that was Priest to all the rest,  
Sat lowest with the Cup still, and their jest  
Could never like; but ever was the man  
That checked their follies: and he now began  
To taste the Bow: the sharp shaft took, tugged hard,  
And held aloft: and till he quite had marred  
His delicate tender fingers, could not stir  
The churlish string▪ who therefore did refer  
The game to others; saying, that same Bow  
(In his presage) would prove the overthrow  
Of many a chief man there: nor thought the Fate  
Was any whit austere; since Death's short da●e  
Were much the better taken; then long life  
Without the ohiect of their amorous strife;  
For whom they had burned out so many days  
To find still other, nothing but delays  
Obtaining in them: and affirmed that now  
Some hoped to have her: but when that tough Bow  
They all had tried, and seen the utmost done,  
They must rest pleased to cease; and now some one  
Of all their other fair veiled Grecian Dames  
With gifts, and dower, and Hymeneal Flames;  
Let her love light to him, that most will give,  
And whom the Nuptial destiny did drive.  
Thus laid he on the well-ioyned polished Board  
The Bow, and bright-piled shaft; and then restored  
His seat his right. To him, Antinous  
Gave bitter language, and reproved him thus.  
What words (Liodes) pass thy speeches guard?  
That 'tis a work to bear? And set so hard,  
They set up my disdain: This Bow must end  
The best of us? since thy arms cannot lend  
The string lest motion? Thy Mother's throws  
Brought never forth thy arms, to draft of Bows,  
Or knitting shafts off. Though thou canst not draw  
The sturdy Plant, thou art to us no law.  
Melanthius? Light a fire, and set thereat  
A chair and cushions; & that mass of fat  
That lies within, bring out; that we may set  
Our Pages to this Bow, to see it heat  
And suppled with the sue●; and then we  
May give it draft, and pay this great decree  
Utmost performance. He a mighty fire  
Gave instant flame, put into act th'entire  
Command laid on him: Chair and cushions set;  
Laid on the Bow, which strait the Pages het,  
Chafed, suppled with the Suet to their most;  
And sti●l was all their Unctuous labour lost:  
All wooers strengths, too indigent and poor  
To draw that Bow: Antinous arms, it tore;  
An● great Eurymachus (the both clear best)  
Yet both it tired, and made them glad to rest.  
Forth then went both the Swains; and after them  
Divine Ulysses, when being past th'extreme  
Of all the Gates; with winning words he tried  
Their loves, and this asked: Shall my counsels hide  
Their depths from you? My mind would gladly know  
If suddenly Ulysses had his Vow  
Made good for home; and had some God to guide  
His steps and strokes to, to wreak these wooers pride;  
Would your aids join on his part, or with theirs?  
How stand your hearts affected? They made prayer's,  
That some God would please, to return their Lord;  
He then should see, how far they would afford  
Their lives for his. (He seeing th●ir 〈◊〉) replied;  
I am your Lord; through 〈◊〉 any a sufferance ●●ied,  
Arrived now here; whom twenty years have held  
From forth my Country; yet are not concealed  
From my sure knowledge; your desires to see  
My safe return. Of all the company  
Now serving here beside; not one but you  
Mine ear hath witnessed willing to bestow  
Their wishes of my life, so long held dead.  
I therefore vow, (which shall be perfected)  
That if God please, beneath my hand to leave  
These wooers lifeless; ye shall both receive  
Wives from that hand, and means; and near to me  
Have houses built to you: and both shall be  
As friends, and brothers to my only Son.  
And that ye well may know me; and ●e ●onne  
To that assurance: the infallible Sign  
The white-toothed Boar g●●e, this marked knee of mine  
When in Parnassus, he was held in chase  
By me, and by my famous Grandsire's race;  
I'll let you see. Thus severed he his weed  
From that his wound; and every word had deed  
In their sure knowledges; Which made them cast  
Their arms about him; his broad breast embraced,  
His neck and shoulders kissed. And him, as well  
Did those true powers of human love compel  
To kiss their heads and hands; and to their moan  
Had sent the free light of the cheerful Sun,  
Had not Ulysses broke the ●uth, and said;  
Cease tears, and sorrows, le●t we prove displayed,  
By some that issue from the house; and they  
Relate to those within. Take each his way,  
Not altogether in; but one by one:  
First I, than you; and then see this be done:  
The envious wooers will by no means give  
The offer of the Bow, and Arrow leave  
To come at me; spite then their pride, do thou  
(My good Eumaeus) bring both shaft and Bow,  
To my hands proof; and charge the maids before;  
That instantly, they shut in every door;  
That they themselves, (if any tumult rise  
Beneath my Roofs; by any that envies,  
My will to undertake the Game) may gain  
No passage forth, but close at work contain  
With all free quiet; or at least, constrained.  
And therefore (my Philaetius) see maintained  
(When close the gates are shut) their closure fa●t;  
To which end, be it thy sole work to cast  
Their chains before them. This said, in he led;  
took first his feat, and then they seconded  
His entry with their own. Then took in hand  
Eurymachus the Bow, made close his stand  
Aside the fire; at whose heat, here and there  
He warmed and suppled it, yet could not steer  
To any draft, the string, with all his Art;  
And therefore, swelled in him his glorious heart;  
Affirming; that himself, and all his friends  
Had cause to grieve: Not only that their ends  
They missed in marriage (since enough beside  
Kind Grecian Dames, there lived to be their Brides  
In Ithaca, and other bordering Towns)  
But that to all times future, their renowns  
Would stand disparaged, if Ulysses Bow  
They could not draw, and yet his wife would woe.  
Antinous answered; That there could ensue  
No shame at all to them: For well he knew,  
That this day was kept holy to the S●nne  
By all the City: and there should be done  
No such profane act; therefore bad, lay by  
The Bow for that day: but the mastery  
●f Axes that were set up, still might stand;  
Since that no labour was, nor any hand  
Would offer to invade Ulysses' house,  
To take, or touch with surreptitious  
Or violent hand, what there was left for use.  
He therefore bad the Cup- 〈◊〉 infuse  
Wine to the Bolles; that so, with sacrifice  
They might let rest the shooting exercise;  
And in the morning make 〈◊〉 bring  
The chief Goats of his Herd, that to the King  
Of Bows and Archers, they might burn the Thighs  
For good success; and then, attempt the prize.  
The rest sat pleased with this: the Heralds strait  
Poured water on their hands: each Page did wait  
With his crowned cup of wine: seru●d 〈◊〉 man  
Till all were satisfied: and then began  
Vlyss●s plot of his close purpose▪ 〈◊〉:  
Hear me, ye much renowned Eurymachus,  
And King Antinous, in chief; who well,  
And with decorum sacred, doth compel  
This days observance; and to let lay down  
The Bow, all this light; giving Gods their own.  
The morning's labour, God the more will bless,  
And strength bestow, where he himself shall please.  
Against which time, let me presume to pray  
Your favours, with the rest; that this assay,  
May my old arms prove; trying if there lie  
In my poor powers the same activity  
That long since crowned them: Or if needy fare  
And desolate wandering, have the web worn bar●  
Of my life's thread at all parts; that no more  
Can furnish these affairs as heretofore.  
This heat their spleens past measure; blown with fear,  
Lest his loathed temples, would the garland wear  
Of that Bows draft: Antinous using speech  
To this sour purpose: Thou most arrant wretch  
Of all guests breathing; in no least degree  
Graced with a human soul: It serves not thee  
To feast in peace with us; take equal share  
Of what we reach to; sit, and all things hear  
That we speak freely (which no begging guest  
Did ever yet) but thou must make request  
To mix with us in merit of the Queen.  
But wine inflames thee; that hath ever been  
The bane of men: whoever yet would take  
Th'excess it offers; and the mean forsake.  
Wine spoiled the Centaur great E●ryti●●,  
In guest-rites, with the mighty-minded Son  
Of bold Ixion; in his way to war,  
Against the Lapiths; who driven as far  
As madness, with the bold effects of wine;  
Did outrage to his kind host; and decline  
Other Heroes from him, feasted there;  
With so much anger, that they left their cheer,  
And dragged him forth the fore-court; slit his nose,  
Cropped both his ears; and in the ill dispose  
His mind then suffered; drew the fatal day  
On his head, with his host. For thence the fray  
Betwixt the Centaurs, and the 〈◊〉  
Had mortal act: but he for his 〈◊〉  
In spoil of wine, fared worth himself; As thou  
For thy large cups, if thy arms draw the Bow,  
My mind foretells shalt fear: for not a man  
Of all our Consort, that in wisdom can  
Boast any fit share, will take prayers then;  
But to Echetus, the most stern of men  
A black Sail freight with thee; whose worst of ill,  
Be sure is past all ransom. Sat then still;  
Drink temperately; and never more contend  
With men your yongers. This, the Queen did end  
With her defence of him; and told his Foe  
It was not fair, nor equal t'ouercrow  
The poorest Guest her son pleased t'entertain  
In his free Turrets; with so proud a strain  
Of threats, and brave; ask if he thought  
That if the stranger to his arms had brought  
The stubborn Bow down; he should marry her  
And bear her home? And said, himself should err  
In no such hope; nor of them all the best  
That grieved at any good, she did her guest,  
Should banquet there; since it in no sort showed  
Noblesse in them, nor paid her, what she owed  
Her own free rule there. This Eurymachus  
Confirmed and said; nor feeds it hope in us  
(Icarius daughter) to solemnize Rites  
Of Nuptials with thee; Nor in noblest sights  
It can show comely; but to our respects  
The rumour, both of sexes, and of Sects  
Amongst the people, would breed shame, and fear,  
Lest any worst Greek said; See, m●n that were  
Of mean deservings, will presume t'aspire  
To his wives bed, whom all men did admire  
For fame and merit; could not draw his Bow,  
And yet his wife, had foolish pride to woe:  
When strait an errant Beggar comes and draws  
The Bow with ease, performing all the Laws  
The game beside contained; and this would thus,  
Prove both indignity and shame to us.  
The Queen replied; The fame of men I see  
Bears much price, in your great supposed degree;  
Yet who can prove (amongst the people great)  
That of one so esteemed of them, the seat  
Doth so defame and ruin? And beside,  
With what right is this guest thus vilefied  
In your high censures? when the man, in blood  
Is well 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Bene compactus & coag●entatis.  composed, and great; his parents good.  
And therefore give the Bow to him, to try  
His Birth and breeding by his Chivalry.  
If his arms draw it; and that Phoebus stands  
So great a glory to his strength, my hands  
Shall add this guerdon: Every sort of weed,  
A two-edged Sword and Lance, to keep him freed  
From Dogs and Men hereafter; and dismis  
His worth to what place tends that heart of his.  
Her son gave answer; That it was a wrong  
To his free sway, in all things that belong  
To guard of that house, to demand the Bow  
Of any wooer, and the use bestow  
Upon the stranger: For the Bow was his,  
To give or to withhold: No masteries  
Of her proposing, giving any power  
T'empaire his right in things, for any wooer;  
Or any that rough Ithaca affords;  
Any that Elis; of which, no man's words  
Nor powers should curb him (stood he so inclined)  
To see the Bow in absolute gift resigned  
To that his guest, to bear and use at will:  
And therefore bade his Mother keep ●er still  
Amongst her women, at her Rock and Loom;  
Bowes were for men: and this Bow did become  
Past all men's, his disposure; since his Sire  
Left it to him, and all the house entire.  
She stood dismayed at this; and in her mind  
His wise words laid up; standing so inclined  
As he had willed; with all her women, going  
Up to her chamber: there, her tears bestowing  
(As every night she did) on her loved Lord,  
Till sleep and Pallas, her fit rest restored.  
The Bow, Eumaeus took, and bore away;  
Which up in tumult, and almost in fray  
Put all the wooers: One inquiring thus.  
Whether? Rogue? abject? wilt thou bear from us  
That Bow proposed? Lay down, or I protest  
Thy dogs shall eat thee, that thou nourishest  
To guard thy Swine: amongst whom (left of all)  
Thy life shall leave thee; if the Festival  
We now observe to Phoebus; ●ay our zeals  
Grace with his aid, and all the Deities else.  
This threat made good 〈◊〉 yield the Bow  
To his late place, not knowing what might grow  
From such a multitude. And then fell on  
Telemachus with threats; and said, Set gone  
That Bow yet further: 'tis no servants part  
To serve too many Masters: raise your heart  
And bear it off, lest (though your younger) yet  
With stones I pelt you to the field with it.  
If you and I close, I shall prove to●●●rong:  
I wish, as much too hard for all this 〈◊〉  
The Gods would make me; I should quickly send  
Some after, with just sorrow to their end:  
They waste my victles so, and ply my cup,  
And do me such shrewd turns still. This put up  
The wooers all in Laugh●●rs; and put down  
Their angers to him; that so late were grown  
So grave and bloody, which resolved that fear  
Of good Eumaeus; who did take and bear  
The King the Bow; called Nurse, and bade her make  
The doors all sure; that if men's tumults take  
The ears of some within; they may not fly,  
But keep at work still, close and silently.  
These words put wings to her; and close she put  
The chamber door: The Court gates than were shut  
By kind Philaetius; who strait did go  
From out the Hall; and in the Portico  
Found laid, a Gable of a Ship, composed  
Of spongy Bulrushes; with which he closed  
(In winding round about them) the Court gates:  
Then took his place again, to view the Fates  
That quickly followed. When he came, he saw  
Ulysses viewing, ere he tried to draw  
The famous Bow; which every way he moved;  
Up, and down turning it: in which he proved  
The plight it was in: fearing chiefly, lest  
The horns were eat with worms, in so long rest.  
But what his thoughts intended, turning so;  
And keeping such a search about the Bow:  
The wooers little knowing, fell to jest,  
And said; Past doubt, he is a man professed  
In Bowyers' craft, and sees quite through the wood:  
Or something (certain) to be understood  
There is, in this his turning of it still:  
A cunning Rogue he is, at any ill.  
Then spoke another proud one; Would to heaven  
I might (at will) get Gold, till he hath given  
That Bow his draft: with these sharp jests, did these  
Delightsome wooer's, their fatal humours please.  
But when the wise Ulysses once had laid  
His fingers on it; and to proof surveyed  
The still sound plight it held: As one of skill  
In song, and of the Harp; doth at his will  
In tuning of his Instrument; extend  
A string out with his pin; touch all, and lend  
To every wel-wreathed string, his perfect sound,  
Struck all together: with such ease, drew round  
The King, the Bow. Then twanged he up the string,  
That, as a Swallow, in the air doth sing  
With no continued tune; but (pausing still)  
Twinkes out her scattered voice in accents shrill;  
So sharp the string sung, when he gave it touch,  
Once having bend and drawn it. Which so much  
Amazed the wooers, that their colours went  
And came, most grievously. And then, jove rend  
The air with thunder; which at heart did cheer  
The now-enough-sustaining traveler.  
Tha jove, again, would his attempt enable.  
Then took he into hand, from off the Table  
The first drawn arrow; and a number more  
Spent shortly on the wooers. But this One,  
He measured by his arm (as if not known  
The length were to him) nockt it then; and drew:  
And through the Axes, at the first hole, flew  
The steele-chardged arrow; which when he had done,  
He thus bespoke the Prince: You have not won  
Disgrace yet by your Guest; for I have struck  
The mark I shot at; and no such toil took  
In wearying the Bow, with fat and fire,  
As did the wooers; yet reserved entire  
(Thank heaven) my strength is; & myself am tried,  
No man to be so basely vilified  
As these men pleased to think me. But, free way  
Take that, and all their pleasures: and while Day  
Holds her Torch to you; and the hour of feast  
Hath now full date; give banquet; and the rest  
(Poem and Harp) that grace a wel-filled board.  
This said: he beckoned to his Son; whose sword  
He strait girt to him: took to hand his Lance,  
And, complete armed, did to his Sire advance.  
The End of the XXI. Book of Homer's Odysseys.   

THE XXII. BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
THe Wooers in Minerva's sight  
Slain by Ulysses; All the light  
And lustful Huswives, by his Son  
And servants, are to slaughter done.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

The end of Pride,  
& lawless Lust;  
Is wretched tried,  
with slaughters just    
THe upper rags, that wise Ulysses wore,  
Cast off; he ●usheth to the great Hall door  
With Bow and Quiver full of shafts; which down  
He poured before his feet; & thus made known  
His true state to the wooers: This strife, thus  
Hath harmless been decided: Now for us  
There rests another mark, more hard to hit,  
And such as never man before hath smit;  
Whose full point likewise, my hands shall assay,  
And try if Phoebus will give me his day.  
He said; and off his bitter Arrow thrust  
Right, at Antinous; that struck him just  
As he was lifting up the Bowl; to show,  
That 'twixt the cup, & lip, much ill may grow.  
Death touched not at his thoughts, at Feast: for who  
Would think, that he alone could perish ●o  
Amongst so many? And he, best of all?  
The Arrow in his throat took full his fall;  
And thrust his head far through the other side:  
Down fell his cup; down he; down all his pride.  
Strait from his Nostrils gushed the human gore:  
And as he fell, his feet far overbore  
The feastful Table; all the Roast, and Bread  
About the house strewed. When his highborn head  
The rest beheld so low, up rushed they all,  
And ransacked every Corner of the Hall  
For Shields and Darts: but all fled far their reach;  
Then fell they foul on him with terrible speech,  
And told him, it should prove the dearest shaft  
That ever past him; and that now was saved  
No shift for him, but sure and sudden death:  
For he had slain a man, whose like did breath  
In no part of the Kingdom: and that now  
He should no more for Game●, strive with his Bow,  
But Vultures eat him there. These threats they spent;  
●et every man believed, that stern event  
Chanced against the authors will: O Fools, to think  
That all their rest, had any cup to drink,  
But what their great Antinous began.  
He (frowning) said; Dogs, see in me the man  
Ye all held dead at Troy: My house it is  
That thus ye spoil; that thus your Luxuries  
File with my women's rapes: in which, ye woe  
The wife of one that lives; and no thought ●●ow  
Of man's fit fear, or Gods: your present Fame,  
Or any fair sense of your future name.  
And therefore, present and eternal death  
Shall end your base life. This made fresh fears breathe  
Their former boldness: every man had eye  
On all the means, and studied ways to fly  
So deep deaths imminent. But, seeing none,  
E●rymachus began with suppliant moan  
To move his pity, saying; If you be  
This Isles Ulysses, we must all agree  
In grant of your reproofs integrity.  
The greeks have done you many a wrong at home;  
At field as many: But of all, the sum  
Lies here contract in death: For only he  
Imposed the whole ill Offices that we  
Are now made guilty of: and not so much  
Sought his endeavours; or in thought did touch  
At any Nuptials; but a greater thing  
Employed his forces: For, to be our King  
Was his chief object: his sole plot it was  
To kill your Son: which joves hand would not pass,  
But set it to his own most merited end.  
In which, end your just anger; nor extend  
Your stern wreak further: Spend your royal powers  
In mild ruth of your people; we are yours.  
And whatsoever waste of wine; or food,  
Our Liberties have made; we'll make all good  
In restitutions: call a Court, and pass  
A fine of twenty Oxen, Gold, and Brass,  
On every Head; and raise your most rates still,  
Till you are pleased with your confessed fill:  
Which if we fail to tender: all your wrath,  
It shallbe justice in our bloods to bathe.  
Eurymachus (said he) if you would give  
All that your Father's hoard, to make ye live;  
And all that ever you yourselves possess,  
Or shall by any industry increase:  
I would not cease from slaughter, till your bloods  
Had bought out your intemperance in my Goods.  
It rests now for you, that you either fight  
That will scape death, or make your way by flight:  
In whose best choice, my thoughts conceive, not one  
Shall shun the death, your first hath undergone.  
This quite dissolved their knees: E●rymachus  
Enforcing all their fears, yet counselled thus:  
O Friends This man, now he hath got the Bow  
And Quiver by him, ever will bestow  
His most inaccessible hands at us  
And never leave, if we avoid him thus,  
Till he hath strewed the pavement with us all:  
And therefore, join we swords, and on him fall  
With Tables forced up; and borne in opposed  
Against his sharp shafts; when being round enclosed  
By all our onsets, we shall either take  
His horrid person, or for safety make  
His rage retire from out the Hall and Gates:  
And then, if he escape, we'll make our states  
Known to the City, by our general ●ry:  
And thus this man shall let his last shaft fly,  
That ever his hand vaunted. Thus he drew  
His sharp edged sword; and with a table, flew  
In, on Ulysses with a terrible throat,  
His fierce charge urging. But Vlysses●mote ●mote  
The board, and cloven it through, from end to end  
Borne at his breast, and made his shaft extend  
His sharp head to his Liver: his broad breast  
Pierced at his Nipple: when, his hand released  
Forthwith his sword, that fell and kissed the ground:  
With cups and victles, lying scattered round  
About the pavement: amongst which, his brow  
Knocked the imbrued earth; while in pains did slow  
His vital spirits, till his heels shook out  
His feastful life; and hurled a Throne about,  
That way-laide death's convulsions in his feet;  
When from his tender eyes, the light did flee●.  
Then charged Amphi●omus with his drawn blade  
The glorious King, in purpose to have made  
His feet forsake the house: But his assay  
The Prince prevented; and his Lance gave way  
Quite through his shoulder, at his back: his breast  
The fierce pile letting forth. His ruin, priest  
Groans from the pavement; which his forehead struck.  
Telemachus his long Lance then forsook  
(Left in Amphinomus) and to his Sire  
Made fiery pass; not staying to acquire  
His Lance again; in doubt that while he drew  
The fixed pile, some other might renew  
Fierce charge upon him; and his unarmed head  
Cleave with his back-drawne sword: for which he fled  
Close to his Father; bade him arm, and he  
Would bring him Shield and javelins instantly;  
His own head arming; more arms laying by  
To serve the Swineherd, and the Oxen-herd.  
Valour well armed, is ever most preferred.  
Run then (said he) and come, before the last  
Of these auxiliary shafts are past:  
For fear, lest (left alone) they force my stand  
From forth the Ports. He flew, and brought to hand  
Eight Darts, four Shields, 4. helms. His own parts than  
First put in arms, he furnished both his men,  
That to their King stood close. But he, as long  
As he had shafts to friend, enough was strong  
For all the wooers: and some one man still  
He made make even with earth. Till all, a hill  
Had raised in th'even floored Hall. His last shaft spent,  
He set his Bow against a beam, and went  
To arm at all parts, while the other three  
Kept off the wooers: who, unarmed, could be  
No great assailants. In the well-built wall  
A window was thrust out, at end of all  
The houses Entry: on whose utter side  
There lay a way to Town; and in it, wide  
And two leaved folds were forged, that gave fit mean  
For flyers out; and therefore, at it then  
Ulysses placed Eumaeus in close guard:  
One only pass open to it: which (prepared  
In this sort by Ulysses, against all pass)  
By Agelaus tardy memory, was  
In question called: who bad, some one ascend  
At such a window; and bring strait to friend  
The City with his clamour; that this man  
Might quickly shoot his last. This, no one can  
Make safe access to (said Melanthi●s)  
For 'tis too near the Hals fair doors: whence thus  
The man afflicts ye: For from thence, there lies  
But one straight passage to it; that denies  
Access to all; if any one man stand  
(Being one of courage) and will countermand  
O●r offer to it. But I know a way  
To bring you arms, from where the King doth lay  
His whole munition: and, believe there is  
No other place, to all the Armouries  
Both of himself and Son. This said: a pair  
Of lofty Stairs he climbed; and to th'affair,  
Twelve Shields, twelve Lances brought; as many casks,  
With horse-hair Plumes; and set to bitter tasks  
Both Son and Sire. Then shrunk Ulysses' knees,  
And his loved heart; when thus in arms he sees  
So many wooers; and their shaken darts:  
For then the work show'd, as it asked more parts  
To safe performance: and he told his Son,  
That or Melanthius, or his maids had done  
A deed, that foul war, to their hands conferred.  
O Father (he replied) 'tis I have erred  
In this caused labour: I, and none, but I;  
That left the door open, of your Armoury.  
But some (it seems) hath set a sharper eye  
On that important place: Eumaeus! hast  
And shut the door; observing who hath pa●t  
To this false action: any maid; or One  
That I suspect more; which is Dolius Son.  
While these spoke thus; Melanthius went again  
For more fair arms; whom the renowned Swain  
Eumaeus saw: and told Ulysses strait,  
It was the hateful man, that his conceit  
Before suspected; who had done that ill:  
And (being again there) asked if he should kill  
(If his power served) or he should bring the Swain  
To him; t'inflict on him a several pain  
For every forfeit, he had made his house.  
He answered: I and my Telemachus  
Will here contain these proud ones, in despite,  
How much soever, these stolen arms excite  
Their guilty courages; while you two take  
Possession of the Chamber: the doors make  
Sure at your back: and then (surprising him)  
His feet and hands bind; wrapping every limb  
In pliant chains; and with a halter (cast  
Above the winde-beame (at himself made fast)  
Aloft the Column draw him: where alive  
He long may hang; and pains enough, deprive  
His vexed life, before his death succeed.  
This charge (soon heard) as soon they put to deed;  
Stole on his stealth; and at the further end  
Of all the chamber, saw him busily bend  
His hands to more arms: when they (still at door)  
Watched his return. At last, he came, and bore  
In one hand, a fair Helm: in th'other held  
A broad, and ancient rusty-rested Shield,  
That old Laertes in his youth had worn;  
Of which, the cheeke-bands had with age been torn.  
They rushed upon him, caught him by the hair,  
And dragged him in again: whom (crying out)  
They cast upon the pavement: wrapped about  
With sure and pinching cords, both foot and hand;  
And then (in full act of their King's command)  
A pliant chain bestowed on him; and haled  
His body up the column, till he scaled  
The highest wind-beame. Where, made firmly fast,  
Eumaeus on his just infliction, past  
This pleasurable cavil: Now you may,  
All night keep watch here, and the earliest day  
Discern (being hung so high) to rouse from rest  
Your dainty Cattle, to the wooers Feast.  
There (as befits a man of means so fair)  
Soft may you sleep, nought under you but air;  
And so, long hang you. Thus they left him there,  
Made fast the door; and with Ulysses, were  
All armed in th'instant. Then they all stood close;  
Their mind's fire breathed in flaures against their foes.  
Four in th' Entry fight all alone;  
When from the Hall charged many a mighty one:  
But to them then, Ioues seed (Min●urua) came,  
Resembling Mentor, both in voice and frame  
Of manly person. Passing well apaid  
Ulysses was; and said, Now Ment●r, aid●  
'Gainst these odd mischiefs: call to memory now  
My often good to thee; and that, we two  
Of one years life are. Thus he said; but thought  
It was Minerva, that had ever brought  
To her side, safety. On the other part,  
The wooers threatened: but the chief in heart  
Was Agelaus; who, to Mentor spoke.  
Mentor: Let no words of Ulysses make  
Thy hand a fighter on his feeble side,  
'Gainst all us wooers: for we firm abide  
In this persuasion; That when Sire and Son  
Our swords have slain, thy life is sure to ron  
One fortune with them: what strange acts hast thou  
Conceit to form here▪ Thy head must below  
The wreak of theirs, on us: And when thy powers  
Are taken down by these fierce steels of ours;  
All thy possessions, in doors, and without  
Must raise on heap with his; and all thy rout  
Of sons and daughters, in thy Turrets bleed  
Wreak offerings to us; and our Town stand freed  
Of all charge with thy wife. Minerva's heart  
Was fired with these Braves: the approved desert  
Of her Ulysses, chiding: saying, No more  
Thy force nor fortitude, as heretofore  
Will gain thee glory. When nine years at Troy,  
White-wristed Helen's rescue, did employ  
Thy arms and wisdom; still, and ever used  
The bloods of thousands, through the field diffused  
By thy vast valour; Priam's broad-waide Town  
By thy grave parts, was sacked, and overthrown:  
And now, amongst thy people, and thy goods,  
Against the wooers base and petulant bloods,  
Stint'st thou thy valour? Rather mourning here,  
Then manly fight? Come Friend, Stand we near,  
And note my labour, that thou mayst discern  
Amongst thy foes, how Mentors Nerves will earn  
All thy old Bounties. This she spoke, but staid  
Her hand from giving each-way-often-swaide  
Uncertain conquest, to his certain use;  
But still would try, what selfe-pow'rs would produce  
Both in the Father▪ and the glorious Son.  
Then, on the wind-beame, that along did run  
The smoky roof; transformed Minerva sat  
Like to a Swallow; sometimes cuffing at  
The swords and Lances, rushing from her seat;  
And up and down the troubled house, did beat  
Her wing at every motion. And as she  
Had roused Ulysses; so, the enemy  
Damastors' son excited; Polybus,  
Amphinomus, and Demoptolemus,  
Eurynomus, and Polyctorides;  
For these were men, that of the wooing prea●e  
Were most egregious, and the clearly best  
In strength of hand, of all the desperate rest  
That yet survived, and now fought for their souls;  
Which strait, swift arrows sent among the Fouls.  
But first, Damastors' son had more spare breath  
To spend on their excitements, ere his death;  
And said, That now Ulysses would forbear  
His dismal hand, since Mentors' spirit was there,  
And blew vain vaunts about Ulysses' ears;  
In whose trust, he would cease his Massacres,  
Rest him, and put his friends huge boasts in proof:  
And so was he beneath the Entries roof  
Left with Telemachus, and th'other two:  
At whom (said he) discharge no Darts: but thro'  
All at Ulysses, rousing his faint rest;  
Whom if we slaughter, by our interest  
In Ioues assistance, all the rest may yield  
Our powers no care, when he strews once the field.  
As he then willed: they all at random threw,  
Where they supposed he rested; and then flew  
Minerva after every Dart, and made  
Some strike the threshold; some the walls invade:  
Some beat the doors; and all acts rendered vain  
Their grave steel offered: which escaped, Again  
Came on Ulysses, saying; O that we,  
The wooers troup, with our joint Archery  
Might so assail; that where their spirits dream.  
On our deaths first, we first may slaughter them.  
Thus the much sufferer said; and all let fly,  
When every man struck dead his enemy:  
Ulysses slaughtered Demoptolemus:  
Euryades by young Telemachus  
His death encountered. Good E●maus slew  
Elatus; And Philaetius overthrew  
Pysander: all which, tore the paved floor  
Up with their teeth: The rest retired before  
Their second charge, to inner rooms; and than  
Ulysses followed: from the slaughtered men  
Their darts first drawing. While which work was done,  
The wooers threw, with huge contention  
To kill them all; when with her Swallow wing,  
Minerva cufft; and made their javelins ring  
Against the doors, and thresholds, as before●:  
Some yet did graze upon their marks. One tore  
The Prince's wrist, which was Amphimed●●;  
Th'extreme part of the skin, but touched upon.  
Ctesippus, over good Eumaeus Shield  
His shoulders top did taint; which yet did yield  
The Lance free pass, and gave his hurt the ground.  
Again then charged the wooers, and gird round  
Ulysses with their Lances; who turned head,  
And with his javelin struck Euryda●●s dead.  
Telemachus, disliued Amphimed●n;  
Eumaeus, Polybu●; Philaetius won  
Ctesippus bosom with his dart, and said;  
(In quittance of the jesters part he played,  
The Neats-foot hurling at Ulysses) Now  
Great Son of Polytherses; you that vow  
Your wit to bitter taunts; and love to wound  
The 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈…〉  heart of any with a jest; so crowned  
Your wit be with a laughter; never yielding  
To fools in folly; but your glory building  
On putting down in fooling, spitting forth  
Puffed words at all sorts: Cease to scoff at worth,  
And leave revenge of vile words to the Gods,  
Since their wits bear the sharper edge by odds:  
And in the mean time, take the Dart I drove,  
For that right hospitable foot you gave  
Divine Ulysses, begging but his own.  
Thus spoke the black-Ox-herdsman; & strait down  
Ulysses struck another with his Dart,  
(Damastors' son.) Telemachus did part  
Just in the midst, the belly of the fair  
Euenors' son; his fierce Pile taking air  
Out at his back. Flat fell he on his face;  
His whole brows knocking, and did mark the place.  
And now, man-slaughtering Pallas took in hand  
Her Snake-frindged shield, & on that beam took stand  
In her true form, where Swallow-like she sat.  
And then, in this way of the house, and that:  
The wooers (wounded at the heart with fear)  
Fled the encounter: As in Pastures, where  
Fat Herds of Oxen feed, about the field  
(As if wild madness their instincts impelled)  
The high-fed bullocks fly: whom in the Spring  
(When days are long) Gadbees, or Breezes sting.  
Ulysses and his son, the Flyers chased;  
As when with crooked beaks and Seres, a cast  
Of hill-bred Eagles, cast off at some game,  
That yet their strengths keep; But (put up) in flame  
The Eagles stoops; From which, along the field  
The poor Fowls make wing: this and that way yield  
Their hard-flowne Pinions: ●hen, the clouds assay  
For scape or shelter; their forlorn dismay  
All spirit exhaling, all wings strength to carry  
Their bodies forth; and (trust up) to the Quarry  
Their Falconers ride in, and rejoice to see  
Their Hawks perform a flight so fervently;  
So (in their flight) Ulysses with his Heir,  
Did stoop and cuff the wooers, that the air  
Broke in vast sighs: whose heads, they shot & cleft;  
The Pavement boiling with the souls they reft:  
Liodes (running to Ulysses) took  
His knees; and thus did on his name invoke:  
Ulysses: Let me pray thee, to my place  
Afford the reverence; and to me the grace:  
That never did, or said, to any Dame  
Thy Court contained, or deed, or word to blame.  
But others so affected, I have made  
Lay down their insolence; and if the trade  
They kept with wickedness, have made them still  
Despise my speech, and use their wont ill;  
They have their penance by the stroke of death;  
Which their des●rt, divinely warranteth:  
But I am Priest amongst them; and shall I,  
That nought have done worth death, amongst them die?  
From thee, this Proverb than will men derive;  
Good turns do never their mere deeds survive.  
He (bending his displeased forehead) said;  
If you be Priest amongst them, as you plead,  
Yet you would marry; and with my wife too;  
And have descent by her: For all that woe  
Wish to obtain, which they should never do  
Dames husbands living. You must therefore pray  
Of force, and oft in Court here; that the day  
Of my return for home might never shine;  
The death to me wished, therefore shall be thine.  
This said; he took a sword up that was cast  
From Agelaus, having struck his last;  
And on the Priests mid neck, he laid a stroke  
That struck his head off; tumbling as he spoke.  
Then did the Poet Phoemiu● (whose surname  
Was called Terpiades; who thither came  
Forced by the wooers) fly death; but being near  
The Courts great gate, he stood, and parted there  
In two his counsels; either to remove  
And take the Altar of Here●ian jove;  
(Made sacred to him; with a world of Art  
Engraven about it; where were wont t'impart  
Laertes, and Ulysses, many a Thy  
Of broad-browed Oxen to the Deity)  
Or venture to Ulysses: cla●pe his knee,  
And pray his ruth. The last was the decree  
His choice resolved on. Twixt the royal Throne,  
And that fair Table that the Bowl stood on  
With which they sacrificed; his Harp he laid  
Along the earth; the King's knees hugged, and said:  
Ulysses! Let my prayers obtain of thee  
My sacred skills respect, and ruth to me.  
It will hereafter grieve thee to have slain  
A Poet, that doth sing to Gods and men.  
ay, of myself am taught: for God alone,  
All sorts of song hath in my bosom sown:  
And I, as to a God, will sing to thee;  
Then do not thou deal like the Priest, with me▪  
Thine own loved son Telemachus will say,  
That not to beg here; nor with willing way  
Was my access to thy high Court addressed,  
To give the wooers my song after Feast;  
But being many, and so much more strong;  
They forced me hither, and compelled my Song.  
This did the Prince's sacred virtue hear;  
And to the King his Father, said: Forbear  
To mix the guiltless, with the guiltless blood.  
And with him likewise, let our mercies save  
Medon the Herald; that did still behave  
Himself with care of my good, from a child;  
If by Eumaeus yet he be not killed;  
Or by Philaetius; nor your fury met,  
While all this blood about the house it sweat.  
This Medon heard, as lying hid beneath  
A Throne set near; half dead with fear of death;  
A new-flead Oxhide (as but there thrown by)  
His serious shroud made, he lying there, to fly.  
But hearing this, he quickly left the Throne;  
His Oxhide cast as quickly, and as soon  
The Prince's knees seized: saying, O my love,  
I am not slain; but here alive, and move.  
Abstain yourself; and do not see your Sire  
Quench with my cold blood, the unmeasured fire  
That flames in his strength, making spoil of me,  
His wraths right, for the wooers injury.  
Ulysses' smiled, and said; Be confident  
This man hath saved, and made thee different;  
To let thee know, and say, and others see,  
Good life, is much more safe than villainy.  
Go then, sit free without, from death within:  
This much renowned Singer, from the sin  
Of these men likewise quit. Both rest you there,  
While I my house purge, as it fits me here.  
This said, they went and took their seat without  
At Ioues high Altar, looking round about,  
Expecting still their slaughter: When the King  
Searched round the Hall, to try life's hidden wing  
Made from more death. But all, laid prostrate there  
In blood and gore he saw: whole shoals they were;  
And lay as thick, as in a hollow creak  
Without the white Sea, when the Fishers break  
Their many-meshed Draught-net up, there lie  
Fish frisking on the Sands; and fain the dry  
Would for the wet change. But th'all-seeing beam  
The Sun exhales, hath sucked their lives from them;  
So, one by other, sprauled the wooers there.  
Ulysses, and his Son then, bid appear  
The Nurse Euryclea, to let her hear  
His mind in something, fit for her affair.  
He oped the door, and called; and said, Repair  
Grave Matron, long since borne; that art our Spy  
To all this houses servile housewifery:  
My Father calls thee, to impart some thought  
That asks thy action. His word, found in nought  
Her slack observance, who strait oped the door  
And entered to him; when himself before  
Had left the Hall. But there, the King she viewed  
Amongst the slain, with blood and gore imbrued:  
And as a Lion skulking all in Night,  
far off in Pastures; and come home, all dight  
In jaws and brest-lockes, with an Ox's blood,  
New feasted on him, his looks full of mood?  
So looked Ulysses; all his hands and feet  
Freckled with purple. When which sight did greet  
The poor old woman (such works being for eyes  
Of no soft temper) out she broke in cries;  
Whose vent, though thoroughly opened; he yet closed,  
Called her more near, and thus her plaints composed;  
Forbear; nor shrieke thus: But vent joys as loud?  
It is no piety to bemoan the proud:  
Though ends befall them, moving near so much,  
These are the portions of the Gods to such.  
men's own impieties, in their instant act,  
Sustain their plagues; which are with stay but racked.  
But these men, Gods nor men had in esteem:  
Nor good, nor bad, had any sense in them.  
Their lives directly ill, were therefore cause  
That Death in these stern forms, so deeply draws.  
Recount then to me, those licentious Dames,  
That lost my honour, and their sex's shames.  
I'll tell you truly (she replied,) There are  
Twice five and twenty women here, that share  
All work amongst them; whom I taught to Spin,  
And bear the just bands that they suffered in:  
Of all which, only there were twelve, that gave  
Themselves to impudence, and light behave;  
Nor me respecting, nor herself (the Queen.)  
And for your Son, he hath but lately been  
Of years to rule: Nor would his Mother bear  
His Empire, where her women's labours were.  
But let me go, and give her notice now  
Of your arrival. Sure some God doth show  
His hand upon her, in this rest she takes,  
That all these uproars bears, and never wakes.  
Nor wake her yet (said he) but cause to come  
Those twelve light women, to this utter room.  
She made all utmost haste, to come and go,  
And bring the women he had summoned so.  
Then, both his Swains and Son, he bade, go call  
The women to their aid, and clear the Hall  
Of those dead bodies: Cleanse each board, & Throne  
With wetted Sponges: which, with fitness, done,  
He bade take all the Strumpets, 'twixt the wall  
Of his first Court; and that room next the Hall;  
In which, the vessel of the house were scoured;  
And in their bosoms sheathe their every sword,  
Till all their souls were fled; and they had then,  
Felt 'twas but pain to sport with lawless men.  
This said; the women came, all drowned in moan,  
And weeping bitterly. But first, was done  
The bearing thence the dead: all which, beneath  
The Portico they stowed, where death on death  
They heaped together. Then took all, the pains  
Ulysses willed. His Son yet, and the Swains  
With paring-shovels wrought: The women bore  
Their parings forth; and all the clottered gore.  
The house then cleansed, they brought the women out,  
And put them in a room, so walled about,  
That no means served their sad estates to fly.  
Then said Telemachus, These shall not die  
A death that lets out any wanton blood,  
And vents the poison that gave Lust her food,  
The body cleansing; but a death that chokes  
The breath, and all together, that provokes  
And seems as bellows, to abhorred Lust;  
That both on my head, poured depraves unjust,  
And on my Mothers; scandaling the Court,  
With men debauched, in so abhorred a sort.  
This said; a Halser of a ship they cast  
About a cross beam of the roof; which fast  
They made about their necks, in twelve parts cut;  
And haled them up so high, they could not put  
Their feet to any stay. As which was done,  
Look how a Mavis, or a Pygeon  
In any Grove, caught with a Springe, or Net;  
With struggling Pinions against the ground doth beat  
Her tender body; and that then-streight bed  
Is sour to that swinge, in which she was bred;  
So strived these taken Birds, till every one  
Her pliant halter, had enforced upon  
Her stubborn neck; and then aloft was hauled  
To wretched death. A little space they sprawled  
Their feet fast moving; but were quickly still.  
Then fetched they down Melanthius, to fulfil  
The equal execution; which was done  
In portal of the Hall; and thus begun:  
They first slit both his Nose thrills, cropped each ear;  
His Members tugged off, which the dogs did tear,  
And chop up bleeding sweet; and while red hot  
T●e vice-abhorring blood was; off they smote  
His hands and feet, and there that work had end:  
Then washed they hands & feet, that blood had steind;  
And took the house again. And then the King  
(Euryclea calling) bade her quickly bring  
All ill-expelling Brimstone, and some fire,  
That with perfumes cast, he might make entire  
The houses first integrity in all.  
And then his timely will was, she should call  
Her Queen and Ladies; still yet charging her,  
That all the Handmaids she should first confer.  
She said, he spoke as fitted; But before▪  
She held it fit to change the weeds he wore,  
And she would others bring him: that not so  
His fair broad shoulders might rest clad; and show  
His person to his servants, was too blame.  
First bring me Fire, said he. She went, and came  
With fire, & sulphur strait; with which the hall,  
And ●f the huge house, all rooms capital  
He thoroughly sweetened. Then went Nurse to call  
The Handmaid servants down; & up she went  
To tell the news, and willed them to present  
Their service to their Sovereign Down they came,  
Sustaining Torches all, and poured a flame  
Of Love, about their Lord: with welcomes home,  
With hug of his hands, with laboursome  
Both heads and foreheads, kisses, and embraces;  
And plied him so, with all their loving graces,  
That tears and sighs, took up his whole desire;  
For now he knew their hearts to him entire.  
The End of the XXII. Book of Homer's Odysseys.   

THE XXIII. BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
VLysses to his wife is known:  
A brief sum of his Travails shown.  
Himself, his Son, and Servants go  
T'approve the Wooer's overthrew.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

For all annoys▪  
sustained before;  
The true wives' joys,  
now made the more.    
THe servants thus informed; the Matron goes  
Up, where the Queen was cast in such repose;  
Affected with a fervent joy to tell  
What all this time she did with pain conceal.  
Her knees revoked their first strength; and her feet  
Were borne above the ground, with wings, to greet  
The long-greeued Queen, with news her King was come;  
And (near her) said: Wake, Leave this withdrawn room;  
That now your eyes may see, at length, though late,  
The man returned, which all the heavy date  
Your woes have racked out, you have longed to see:  
Ulysses is come home, and hath set free  
His Court of all your wooers; slaughtering all,  
For wasting so his goods with Festival:  
His house so vexing; and for violence done,  
So all ways varied to his only son.  
She answered her; The Gods have made thee mad;  
Of whose power now, thy powers such proof have had.  
The Gods can blind with follies, wisest eyes,  
And make men foolish, so to make them wise.  
For they have hurt even thy grave brain, that bore  
An understanding spirit heretofore,  
Why hast thou waked me to more tears, when Mon●  
Hath turned my mind, with tears, into her own?  
Thy madness much more blameful, that with lies  
Thy haste is loaden: and both robs mine eyes  
Of most delightsome sleep; and sleep of them,  
That now had bound me in his sweet extreme,  
T'embrace my lids, and close my usual Spheres.  
I have not slept so much this twenty years;  
Since first my dearest sleeping-Mate was gone  
For that too-ill-to-speake of, Ilium.  
Hence, take your mad steps back; if any Maid  
Of all my train beside, a part had played  
So bold to wake, and tell mine ears such lies;  
I had returned her to her huswiferies  
With good proof of my wrath to such rude Dames;  
But go, your years have saved their younger blames.  
She answered her: I nothing wrong your ear,  
But tell the truth: your long-mist Lord is here;  
And, with the wooers slaughter, his own hand  
(In chief exploit) hath to his own command  
Reduced his house; and that poor Guest was he,  
That all those wooers, wrought such injury.  
Telemachus had knowledge long ago  
That 'twas his Father; but his wisdom so  
Observed his counsels; to give surer end  
To that great work, to which they did contend.  
This called her spirits to their conceiving places;  
She sprung for joy, from blames into embraces  
Of her grave Nurse: wiped every tear away  
From h●r fair cheeks; and then began to say  
What Nurse said, over thus; O Nurse, can this  
Be true thou sayst▪ How could that hand of his  
Alone, destroy so many? They would still  
troup all together. How could he then kill  
Such numbers, so united? How? (said she)  
I have nor seen, nor heard; but certainly  
The deed is done. We sat within, in fear;  
The doors shut on us: and from thence might hear  
The sighs, and groans of every man he slew;  
But heard, nor saw more: till at length, there flew  
Your sons voice to mine ear, that called to me,  
And bade me then come forth: and then I see  
Ulysses standing in the midst of all  
Your slaughtered wooers, heaped up like a wall,  
One on another, round about his side;  
It would have done you good to have descried  
Your conquering lord; all smeared with blood & gore  
So like a Lyon. Strait then, off they bore  
The slaughtered carcases; that now before  
The fore-Court gates lie, one on other piled.  
And now your victor, all the Hall (defiled  
With stinch of hot death) is perfuming round;  
And with a mighty fire the hearth hath crowned.  
Thus, all the death removed, and every room  
Made sweet and sightly; that yourself should come  
His pleasure sent me. Come then, take you now  
Your mutual fills of comfort: Grief, on you  
Hath long, and many sufferings laid; which length,  
Which many sufferings, now your virtuous strength  
Of uncorrupted chasteness, hath conferred  
A happy end to. He that long hath erred  
Is safe arrived at home: his wife, his son  
Found safe & good; all ill that hath been done  
On all the doers heads (though long prolonged)  
His right hath wreaked, and in the place they wronged▪  
She answered: Do not you now laugh, and boast  
As you had done some great act; seeing most  
Into his Being: For, you know, he won  
(Even through his poor, and vile condition)  
A kind of prompted thought; that there was placed  
Some virtue in him, fit to be embraced  
By all the house; but, most of all, by me  
And by my Son, that was the progeny  
Of both our loves. And yet it is not he,  
For all the likely proofs ye plead to me:  
Some God hath slain the wooers, in disdain  
Of the abhorred pride, he saw so reign  
In those base works they did: No man alive,  
Or good, or bad, whoever did arrive  
At their abodes once, ever could obtain  
Regard of them: and therefore their so vain  
And vile deserts, have found as vile an end.  
But (for Ulysses) never will extend  
His wished return to Greece: Nor he yet lives.  
How strange a Queen are you? (said she) that giue●  
No truth your credit? That your husband, set  
Close in his house at fire, can purchase yet  
No faith of you; But that he still is far  
From any home of his? your wit's at war  
With all credulity ever; and yet now  
I'll name a sign, shall force belief from you:  
I bathed him lately; and beheld the scar  
That still remains a mark too ocular  
To leave your heart yet blinded; and I then  
Had run and told you: but his hand was feign  
To close my lips from th'acclamation  
My heart was breathing: and his wisdom won  
My still retention, till he gave me leave,  
And charge to tell you this. Now then, receive  
My life for gage of his return; which take  
In any cruel fashion; if I make  
All this not clear to you. Loved Nurse (said she)  
Though many things thou know'st, yet these things be  
Veiled in the counsels th'uncreated Gods  
Have long time masked in: whose dark periods  
'tis hard for thee to see into; But come,  
Le's see my son; the slain; and he by whom  
They had their slaughter. This said; down they went;  
When on the Queen's part, divers thoughts were spent;  
If (all this given no faith) she still should stand  
Aloof, and question more: Or his hugged hand,  
And loved head, she should at first assay  
With free-given kisses. When her doubtful way  
Had past the stony pavement, she took seat  
Against her husband, in the opposite heat  
The fire then cast upon the other wall:  
Himself, set by the Column of the Hall;  
His looks cast downwards, and expected still,  
When her incredulous, and curious will  
To shun ridiculous error, and the shame  
To kiss a Husband, that was not the same,  
Would down, and win enough faith from his sight.  
She silent sit, and her perplexed plight  
Amaze encountered: Sometimes, she stood clear  
He was her Husband: sometimes, the ill wear  
His person had put on, transformed him so,  
That yet his sta●pe would hardly currant go.  
Her son her strangeness seeing▪ blamed her thus:  
Mother, ungentle Mother! tyrannous!  
In this too curious modesty you show;  
Why sit you from my Father? Nor bestow  
A word on me, t'inquire and clear such doubt  
As may perplex you? Found man ever out  
One other such a wife? That could forbear  
Her loved Lords welcome home, when twenty year  
In infinite sufferance, he had spent apart:  
No Flint so hard is, as a woman's heart.  
Son (she replied) Amaze contains my mind,  
Nor can I speak, and use the common kind  
Of those inquiries; nor sustain to see  
With opposite looks, his countenance. If this be  
My true Ulysses now returned; there are  
Tokens betwixt us of more fitness far  
To give me argument, he is my Lord;  
And my assurance of him, may afford  
My proofs of joy for him, from all these eyes  
With more decorum; then object their guise  
To public notice. The much-Sufferer broke  
In laughter out; and to his Son said; Take  
Your Mother from the press; that she may make  
Her own proofs of me, which perhaps may give  
More cause to the acknowledgements, that drive  
Their show thus off. But now, because I go  
So poorly clad, she takes disdain to know  
So loathed a creature, for her loved Lord.  
Let us consult then, how we may accord  
The Town to our late action. Some one, slain,  
Hath made the all-left slaughterer of him, fain  
To fly his friends and country. But our swords  
Have slain a Cities most supportfull Lords;  
The chief Peers of the kingdom: therefore see  
You use wise means t'uphold your victory.  
See you to that good Father (said the Son)  
Whose counsels have the sovereign glory won  
From all men living. None will strive with you;  
But with unquestioned Garlands grace your brow:  
To whom, our whole alacrities we vow  
In free attendance. Nor shall our hands leave  
Your onsets needy of supplies, to give  
All the effects that in our powers can fall.  
Then this (said he) to me seems capital  
Of all choice courses: bath we first, and then  
Attire we freshly: all our Maids and men  
Enjoining likewise, to their best attire.  
The sacred Singer then, let touch his Lyre;  
And go before us all in graceful dance,  
That all without, to whose ears shall advance  
Our cheerful accents, (or of travailers by,  
Or firm inhabitants) solemnity  
Of frolic Nuptials may imagine here.  
And this, perform we; lest the massakere  
Of all our wooers be divulged about  
The ample City, ere ourselves get out,  
And greet my Father, in his Grove of Trees;  
Where, after, we will prove what policies  
Olympius shall suggest, to overcome  
Our latest toils, and crown our welcome home.  
This all obeyed: Bathed, put on fresh attire,  
Both men and women did; Then took his Lyre  
The holy singer, and set thirst on fire  
With songs, and faultless dances: all the Court  
Rung with the footings, that the numerous sport  
From jocund men drew, and faire-girdled Dames;  
Which, (heard abroad) thus flew the common fames:  
This s●re the day is, when the much-wooed Queen  
Is richly wed; O wretch! That hath not been  
So constant, as to keep her ample house  
Till th'utmost hour, had brought her foremost spouse.  
Thus some conceived, but little 〈◊〉 the thing.  
And now, Eurynome had bathed the King;  
Smoothed him with Oils; and he, himself attired  
In vestures royal. Her part then inspired  
The Goddess Pallas; decked his head and face  
With infinite beauties: gave a goodly grace  
Of stature to him: a much plumper plight  
Through all his body breathed; Curls soft, & bright  
Adorned his head withal, and made it show,  
As if the flowery Hyacinth did grow  
In all his pride there: In the general trim  
Of every lock, and every curious limb.  
Look how a skilful Artisan, well 〈◊〉  
In all Arts Metalline; as ha●ing been  
Taught by Minerva, and the God of fire,  
Doth Gold, with Silver mix so; that entire  
They keep their self distinction; and yet so,  
That to the Silver, from the Gold, doth flow  
A much more artificial lustre than his ●●ne;  
And thereby to the Gold itself, is grown  
A greater glory, then if wrought alone;  
Both being stuck off, by either's 〈◊〉▪  
So did Minerva, hers and his combine,  
He more in Her, She more in Him did shine.  
Like an Immortal from the Bath, 〈…〉:  
And to his wife did all his grace dispose,  
Encountering this her strangeness: Cruel Dame  
Of all that breath; the Gods, 〈…〉 and flame  
Have made thee ruthless: Life retains nor one  
Of all Dames else, that bears so overgrown  
A mind with abstinence; as twenty 〈◊〉  
To miss her husband, drowned in wo●●, and tears;  
And at his coming, keep aloof; 〈…〉  
As of his so long absence, and his care,  
No sense had seized her. Go Nurse, make a bed,  
That I alone may sleep; her heart is dead  
To all reflection. To him, thus replied  
The wise Penelope: Man, half deified;  
'Tis not my fashion to be taken straight  
With bravest men: Nor poorest, use to stright.  
Your mean appearance made not me retire;  
Nor this your rich show, makes me now admire,  
Nor moves at all: For what is all to me,  
If not my husband? All his certainty  
I knew at parting; but (so long apart)  
The outward likeness, holds no full desert  
For me to trust to. Go Nurse, see addressed  
A soft bed for him; and the single rest  
Himself affects so. Let it be the bed,  
That stands within our Bridal Chamber-sted,  
Which he himself made: Bring it forth from thence,  
And see it furnished with magnificence.  
This said she, to assay him; and did stir  
Even his established patience; and to her.  
Whom thus he answered: Woman! your words prove  
My patience strangely: Who is it can move  
My Bed out of his place? It shall oppress  
Earth's greatest under-stander; and unless▪  
Even God himself come, that can easily grace  
Men in their most skills, it shall hold his place.  
For Man: he lives not, that (as not most skilled,  
So not most young) shall easily make it yield.  
If (building on the strength in which he flows)  
He adds both levers to, and Iron Crows.  
For, in the fixure of the Bed, is shown  
A Masterpiece; a wonder: and 'twas done  
By me, and none but me: and thus was wrought;  
There was an Olive tree, that had his grought  
Amidst a hedge; and was of shadow, proud;  
Fresh, and the prime age of his verdure showed.  
His leaves and arms so thick, that to the eye  
It show'd a column for solidity.  
To this, had I a comprehension  
To build my Bridal Bower; which all of stone,  
Thick as the Tree of leaves, I raised, and cast  
A Roof about it, nothing meanly graced;  
Put glued doors to it, that oped Art enough.  
Then, from the Olive, every broad-leaved bough  
I lopped away: then felled the Tree, and then  
Went over it, both with ●y Axe, and Plain:  
Both governed by my Line. And then, I hewed  
My curious Bedstead out; in which, I show'd  
Work of no common hand. All this, begun,  
I could not leave, till to perfection  
My pains had brought it. took my Wimble; bored  
The holes, as fitted: and did last, afford  
The varied Ornament; which show'd no want  
Of Silver, Gold, and polished Elephant.  
An Oxhide Died in purple, than I threw  
Above the cords. And thus, to curious view  
I hope I have objected honest sign,  
To prove, I author nought that is not mine:  
But, if my bed stand vnreinoued, or no,  
O woman, passeth human wit to know.  
This sunk her knees & heart, to hear so true  
The signs she urged; and first, did tears ensue  
Her rapt assurance: Then she ran, and spread  
Her arms about his neck; kissed oft his head;  
And thus the curious stay she made, excused:  
Ulysses! Be not angry, that I used  
Such strange delays to this; since heretofore  
Your suffering wisdom, hath the Garland wore  
From all that breath: and 'tis the God's that thus  
With mutual miss, so long afflicting us,  
Have caused my coyness: To our youths, envied  
That wished society, that should have tied  
Our youths and years together: and since now  
judgement and Duty, should our age allow  
As full joys therein, as in youth and blood:  
See all young anger, and reproof withstood,  
For not at first sight giving up my arms:  
My heart still trembling, lest the false alarms  
That words oft strike up, should ridiculize me.  
Had Argive Helen known credulity  
Would bring such plagues with it; and her, again  
(As aucthresse of them all) with that foul stain  
To her, and to her country; she had stayed  
Her love and mixture from a stranger's bed.  
But God impelled her to a shameless deed,  
Because she had not in herself decreed  
Before th'attempt; That, such acts still were shent,  
As simply in themselves, as in th'event.  
By which, not only she herself sustains,  
But we, for her fault, have paid mutual pains.  
Yet now; since these signs of our certain bed  
You have discovered, and distinguished  
From all earth's others: No one man but you,  
Yet ever getting of it th'only show;  
Nor one, of all Dames, but myself, and she  
My Father gave; old Actors progeny:  
(Who ever guarded to ourselves, the door  
Of that thick-shaded chamber) I, no more  
Will cross your clear persuasion: though, till now,  
I stood too doubtful, and austere to you.  
These words of hers, so justifying her stay,  
Did more desire of joyful moan convey  
To his glad mind; then if at instant sight,  
She had allowed him, all his wishes right.  
He wept for joy, t' enjoy a wife so fit  
For his grave mind, that knew his depth of wit;  
And held chaste virtue at a price so high.  
And as sad men at Sea, when shore is nigh,  
Which long their hearts have wished (their ship quite lost  
By Neptune's rigour; and they vexed, and tossed  
Twixt winds & black waves, swimming for their lives;  
A few escaped; and that few that survives  
(All drenched in foam, and brine) crawl up to Land,  
With joy as much as they did worlds command;  
So dear, to this wife, was her husband's sight;  
Who still embraced his neck; and had, (till light  
Displayed her silver Ensign) if the Dame  
That bears the blue sky, intermixed with flame  
In her fair eyes, had not infixed her thought  
On other joys, for loves so hardly brought  
To longed-for meeting: who th'extended night  
Withheld in long date; nor would let the light  
Her wing-hooued horse join; (Lampus, Phaeton)  
Those ever Colts, that bring the morning on  
To worldly men; But, in her golden chair,  
Down to the Ocean, by her silver hair  
Bound her aspire. Then Ulysses said;  
O wife: Nor yet are my contentions stayed;  
A most unmeasured labour, long and hard  
Asks more performance; to it, being prepared  
By grave Tiresias, when down to hell  
I made dark passage; that his skill might tell  
My men's return, and mine. But come, and now  
Enjoy the sweet rest that our Fates allow.  
The place of rest is ready, (she replied)  
Your will at full serve, since the deified  
Have brought you, where your right is to command.  
But since you know (God making understand  
Your searching mind) inform me, what must be  
Your last set labour; Since 'twill fall to me  
(I hope) to hear it after; tell me now:  
The greatest pleasure is before to know.  
Unhappy? (said Ulysses) To what end  
Importune you this labour? It will lend  
Nor you, nor me, delight; but you shall know,  
I was commanded, yet more to bestow  
My years in travail; many Cities more  
By Sea to visit: and when first, for shore  
I left my shipping, I was willed to take  
A naval Oar in hand; and with it make  
My passage forth, till such strange men I met,  
A● knew no Sea, nor ever salt did eat  
With any victles: who the purple beaks  
O● Ships did never see: nor that which breaks  
The waves in curls, which is a Fan-like Oar,  
And serves as wings, with which a ship doth soar.  
To let me know then, when I was arrived  
On that strange earth, where such a people lived.  
He gave me this for an unfailing sign:  
When any one, that took that Oar of mine  
Borne on my shoulder, for a Corne-clense Fan,  
I met ashore; and show'd to be a man  
Of that Lands labour: There had I command  
To fix mine Oar; and offer on that strand  
T'imperiall Neptune (whom I must implore)  
A Lamb, a Bull, and Sow-ascending Boar:  
And then turn home; where all the other Gods  
That in the broad heaven made secure abodes,  
I must solicit (all my curious heed  
Given to the several rites they have decreed)  
With holy Hecatombs: And then, at home  
A gentle death should seize me, that would come  
From out the Sea, and take me to his rest  
In full ripe age; about me, living blest,  
My loving people: To which (he presaged)  
The sequel of my fortunes were engaged.  
If then (said she) the Gods will please t'impose  
A happier Being to your fortunes close  
Then went before; your hope gives comfort strength,  
That life shall lend you better days at length.  
While this discourse spent mutual speech, the bed  
Eurynome and Nurse had made; and spread  
With richest Furniture; while Torches spent  
Their parcel gilded thereon. To bed then went  
The aged Nurse; and where their Sovereigns were,  
Eurynome (the Chambermaid) did bear  
A Torch, and went before them to their rest:  
To which she left them; and for hers addressed.  
The King and Queen then, now (as newly wed)  
Resumed the old Laws of th'embracing bed.  
Telemachus, and both his Herdsmen, then  
Dissolved the dances, both to Maids and men;  
Who in their shady roofs took timely sleep.  
The Bride, and Bridegroom, having ceased to keep  
Observed Love-ioyes; from their fit delight,  
They turned to talk. The Queen then did recite  
What she had suffered by the hateful rout  
Of harmful wooers, who had eat her out  
So many Oxen, and so many Sheep;  
How many ●un of wine their drinking deep  
Had quite exhausted. Great V●ysses then,  
What ever slaughters he had made of men;  
What ever sorrows he himself sustained,  
Repeated amply; and her ears remained  
With all delight, attentive to their end.  
Nor would one wink sleep, till he told her all;  
Beginning where he gave the Cacons' fall.  
From thence, his pass to the Lotophagie;  
The Cyclops acts; the putting out his eye,  
And wreak of all the Soldiers he had eat,  
No lest ruth shown, to all they could entreat.  
His way to Aeolus; his prompt receipt,  
And kind dismission: his enforced retreat  
By sudden Tempest, to the fishy main;  
And quite distraction from his course again.  
His landing at the Laestrigonian Port,  
Where ships and men, in miserable sort,  
Met all their spoils; his ship, and he, alone  
Got off from the abhorred confusion.  
His pass to Circe; her deceits, and Arts:  
His thence descension to th'infernal parts:  
His life's course of the Theban Prophet learned;  
Where, all the slaughtered Grecians he discerned,  
And loved Mother. His astonished ear  
With what the Siren's voices made him hear.  
His escape from th'erring Rocks, which Scylla was,  
And rough Charybdis; with the dangerous pass  
Of all that touched there: His Sicilian  
Offence given to the Sun: His every man  
Destroyed by thunder, volleyed out of heaven,  
That split his Ship; his own endeavours driven  
To shift for succours on th' Ogygian shore,  
Where Nymph Calypso, such affection bore  
To him in his arrival: Tha● with feast  
She kept him in her Caves, and would have blest  
His welcome life, with an immortal state;  
Would he have stayed, and lived her Nuptial mate:  
All which, she never could persuade him to.  
His pass to the Phaeacians, spent in woe:  
Their hearty welcome of him, as he were,  
A God descended from the starry Sphere:  
Their kind dismission of him home, with Gold,  
Brass, Garments; all things his occasions would.  
This last word used; sleep seized his weary eye,  
That salves all care, to all mortality.  
In mean space, Pallas, entertained intent,  
That when Ulysses, thought enough time spent  
In love-ioyes with his wife; to raise the Day,  
And make his grave occasions, call, away.  
The Morning rose, and he; when thus he said;  
O Queen: Now satiate with afflictions, laid  
On both our bosoms; (you oppressed here  
With cares for my return; I, every where  
By jove, and all the other Deities, tossed  
Even till all hope of my return was lost)  
And both arrived at this sweet Haven, our Bed;  
Be your care used, to see administered  
My house-possessions left. Those Sheep that were  
Consumed in surfeits by your wooers here;  
I'll forage, to supply with some; and more,  
The suffering Grecians shall be made restore,  
Even till our stalls receive their wont fill.  
And now, to comfort my good Fathers ill  
Long suffered for me: To the many-treeed  
And ample Vineyard grounds, it is decreed  
In my next care, that I must haste, and see  
His longed-for presence. In the mean time, be  
Your wisdom used; that since (the Sun ascended)  
The fame will soon be through the Town extended,  
Of those I here have slain; yourself (got close  
Up to your chamber) see you there tepose,  
Cheered with your women; and, nor look afford  
Without your Court; nor any man, a word.  
This said, he armed: To arms, both Son and Swain  
His power commanding; who did entertain  
His charge with spirit: Opened the gates, and out;  
He leading all. And now was hurled about  
Aurora's ruddy fire: through all whose light  
Minerva led them, through the Town, from sight.  
The End of the XXIII. Book of Homer's Odysseys.   

THE XXIIII. BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSES.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
BY Mercury the Wooer's souls  
Are ushered to th'Infer●all Pools.  
Ulysses, with Laertes●et ●et;  
The people, are in uproar set  
Against them, for the wooers ends:  
Whom Pallas stays, and renders Friends.  
Another.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

The uproars fire,  
the People's fall:  
The Grandfire, Sire,  
and Son, to all.    
CYllenian Hermes with his golden rod,  
The wooers souls (that yet retained abode  
Amids their bodies) called in dreadful rout  
Forth to th'Infernals; who came murmuring out.  
And as amids the desolate retreat  
Of some vast Caverne (made the sacred seat  
Of austere spirits) Bats, with Breasts, and wings  
Clasp fast the walls; and each to other clings:  
But, swept off from their coverts, up they rise  
And fly with murmurs, in amazefull guise  
About the caverne: So these (grumbling) rose  
And flocked together. Down before them goes  
None-hurting Mercury, to hell's broad ways;  
And strait to those straits, where the Ocean stays  
His lofty current in calm deeps, they flew.  
Then to the snowy rock, they next withdrew;  
And to the close of Phoebus' orient gates:  
The Nation then of Dreams; and then the states  
Of those soul's Idols, that the weary dead  
Gave up in earth: which, in a flowery Mead  
Had habitable situation.  
And there they saw the soul of Thetis son;  
Of good Patroclus; brave Antilochus,  
And Ajax; the supremely strenuous  
Of all the Greek host, next Plebeian:  
All which assembled about M●ias son.  
And to them (after) came the mournful Ghost  
Of Agamemn●n; with all those, he lost  
In false Aegysthus Court. A●hilles then  
Beholding there, that mighty King of men:  
Deplored his plight, ●nd said: O Atreus Son!  
Of all Heroes; all Opinion  
Gave thee, for Ioues most loved; since most command  
Of all the greeks, he gave thy eminent hand  
At siege of Ilium, where we suffered so:  
And is the issue this? That first in woe,  
Stern Fate did therefore set thy sequel down?  
None borne past others Fates, can pass his own.  
I wish to heaven, that in the height of all  
Our pomp at Ilium, Fate had signed thy fall;  
That all the greeks might have advanced to thee,  
A famous Sepulchre; and Fame might see  
Thy Son given honour, in thy honoured end;  
But now, a wretched death did Fate extend  
To thy confusion, and thy Issues shame.  
O Thetis Son (said he) the vital flame  
Extinct at Ilium, far from th' Argive fields;  
The style of blessed, to thy virtue yields.  
About thy fall, the best of Greece and Troy  
Were sacrificed to slaughter: Thy just joy  
Conceived in battle, with some worth forgot,  
In such a death, as great Apollo shot  
At thy encounters: Thy brave person lay  
Hid in a dusty whirlwind, that made way  
With human breaths, spent in thy ruins state;  
Thou great, wert greatly valued, in thy Fate.  
All day we fought about thee; nor at all  
Had ceased our conflict, had not jove let fall  
A storm, that forced off our unwilling feet.  
But, having brought thee from the fight, to fleet  
Thy glorious person (bathed and balmed) we laid  
Aloft a bed; and round about thee, paid  
The greeks warm tears, to thy deplored decease;  
Quite daunted, cutting all their curls increase.  
Thy death dra●e a divine voice through the Seas,  
That started up thy Mother from the waves;  
And all the Marine Godheads, left their caves,  
Consorting to our fleet, her rapt repair:  
The greeks stood frighted, to see Sea, and Air,  
And Earth, combine so, in thy losses sense;  
Had taken ship, and fled for ever thence,  
If old-much-knowing- Nestor had not staid  
Their rushing off: His counsels having swayed  
In all times former, with such cause, their courses;  
Who bade contain themselves, and trust their forces;  
For all they saw, was Thetis come from Sea,  
With others of the watery progeny,  
To see and mourn for her deceased Son.  
Which stayed the fears, that all to flight had won;  
And round about thee stood th'old Sea-gods seeds,  
Wretchedly mourning: their immortal weeds  
Spreading upon thee: all the sacred Nine  
Of deathless Muses, paid ●hee dues divine;  
By varied turns their heavenly voices venting;  
All in deep passion for thy death consenting.  
And then, of all our Army, not an eye  
You could have seen, vndrowned in misery;  
The moving Muse, so ruled in every mind.  
Full seventeen days and nights, our tears confined  
To celebration of thy mourned end;  
Both men, and Gods, did in thy moan con●●nd.  
The eighteenth day, we spent about thy heap  
Of dying fire: Black Oxen, fattest Sheep  
We slew, past number. Then the precious spoil  
(Thy Corpse) we took up, which with stoods of oil  
And pleasant Honey we emblamed; and then  
Wrapped thee in those Robes, that the Gods did rain:  
In which, we gave thee to the hallowed flame;  
To which, a number of heroical name,  
All armed, came rushing in, in desperate plight;  
As priest to sacrifice their vital right  
To thy dead ruins, while so bright they burned:  
Both foot & horse broke in; and fought, & mourned  
In infinite tumult. But when all the night  
The rich flame lasted; and that wasted quite  
Thy body was with the enamoured fire;  
We came in early Morn, and an entire  
Collection made, of every ivory bone;  
Which washed in wine, and 〈…〉,  
A two-eared Bowl of Gold, 〈◊〉 Mother ga●e,  
By Bacchus given her; and did form receive  
From Vulcan's famous hand; which (O renowned  
Great Thetis Son) with thy fair bones, we crowned;  
Mixed with the Bones of 
* Patr●●lus  〈◊〉,  
And brave Antilochus; 〈◊〉, in decease  
Of thy Patroclus, was thy favours Dear.  
About thee then, a matchless Sepulchre,  
The sacred host of the Achai●●● 〈◊〉  
Upon the Hellespont; where most it seized  
(For height, and conspicuity) the eyes  
Of living men, and their posterities.  
Thy Mother then obtained the God's consent  
To institute an honoured game, that spent  
The best approvement of our Grecian Fames;  
In whose praise, I must say, that many games  
About Heroes sepulchres, mine eyes  
Have seen performed: But these, bore off the prize  
With miracles to me, from all before.  
In which, thy Silver-footed Mother, bore  
The Institutions name; but thy deserts  
(Being great with heaven) caused all the eminent parts.  
And thus, through all the worst effects of Fate,  
Achilles' Fame, even Death shall propagate:  
While any one, shall lend the light an eye,  
Divine Ae●cides shall never die.  
But wherein can these comforts be conceived  
As rights to me? when having quite achieved  
An end with safety, and with Conquest too  
Of so unmatched a war; what none could do  
Of all our enemies there, at home, a Friend,  
And Wife, have given me inglorious end.  
While these thus spoke, the Argus-killing spy  
Brought near, Ulysses' noble victory  
To their renews d discourse; in all the ends  
The wooers suffered, and show'd those his Friends.  
Whom now, amaze invaded with the view,  
And made give back: yet 〈◊〉 knew  
Melanthius heir, much-famed Amphimed●●,  
Who had in Ithaca, Guest-favours shown  
To great Atrides; who first spoke, and said:  
Amphimedon: what sufferance hath been laid  
On your alive parts, that hath made you ma●e  
This land of darkness, the retreat you take?  
So all together? All being like in years?  
Nor would a man have choosd, of all the Peers  
A City honours, men to make a part  
More strong for any object? Hath your smart  
Been felt from Neptune, being at Sea? His wrath,  
The winds, and waves, exciting to your scathe?  
Or have offensive men imposed this Fate?  
Your Oxen driving; or your flocks estate?  
Or for your City fight, and your wives,  
Have deaths untimely, seized your best-timed lives?  
Inform me truly: I was once your Guest;  
When I, and Menelaus had professed  
First arms for Ilium; and were com● ashore  
On Ithaca, with purpose to implore  
Ulysses' aid; that City-racing man,  
In wreak of the adulterous Phrygian.  
Retain not you the time? A whole months' date  
We spent at Sea, in hope to instigate  
In our arrival, old Laertes Son;  
Whom (hardly yet) to our design we won.  
The Soul made answer: Worthiest King of men,  
I well remember every passage than  
You now reduce to thought; and will relate  
The truth, in whole form, of our timeless Fate.  
We wooed the wife of that long absent King;  
Who (though her second marriage, were a thing  
Of most hate to her) she would yet deny  
At no part our affections; nor comply  
With any in performance: but decreed  
In her delays, the cruel Fates, we feed.  
Her craft was this: She undertook to weau●  
A Funeral garment, destined to receive  
The corpse of old Laertes; being a task  
Of infinite labour, and which Time would ask.  
In midst of whose attempt, she caused our stay  
With this attraction: Youths! that come in way  
Of honoured Nuptials to me: Though my Lord  
Abide amongst the dead; yet cease to board  
My choice for present Nuptials; and sustain  
(Lest what is passed me, of this web, be vain)  
Till all receive perfection: 'Tis a weed  
Disposed, to wrap in, at his Funeral need  
The old La●rtes: who (possessing much)  
Would (in his want of rites as fitting) touch  
My honour highly, with each vulgar Dame.  
Thus spoke she, and persuaded; and her Frame  
All day she laboured; her days work not small;  
But every night time, she unwrought it all.  
Three years continuing this imperfect task;  
But when the fourth year came, her slights could mask  
In no more covert; since her trusted Maid  
Her whole deceit, to our true note betrayed.  
With which, surprised, she could no more protract  
Her works perfection: but gave end exact  
To what remained: washed up, and set thereon  
A gloss so bright, that like the Sun and Moon  
The whole work show'd together. And when now  
Of mere necessity, her honoured vow  
She must make good to us: ill fortune brought  
Ulysses' home; who yet, gave none one thought  
Of his arrival; but far-off at field  
Lived with his Herdsman: Nor his trust would yield  
Note of his person; but lived there, as Guest;  
Ragged as a beggar, in that life professed.  
At length, Telemachus left Pylos sank;  
And with a Ship, fetched soon his native Land.  
When yet, not home he went: but laid his way  
Up to his Herdsman, where his Father lay;  
And where, both laid our deaths. To town than bore  
The Swineherd, and his King; the Swain before.  
Telemachus, in other ways, bestowed  
His course home first, t'associate us that wooed.  
The Swain, the King led after, who came on  
Ragged and wretched, and still leaned upon  
A borrowed staff. At length, he reached his home;  
Where (on the sudden, and so wretched, come)  
Nor we, nor much our elders, once did dream  
Of his return there: but did wrongs extreme  
Of words, and blows to him: all which, he bore  
With that old patience he had learned before.  
But when the mind of jove had raised his own;  
His son and he, fetched all their Armour down;  
Fast locked the doors; and (to prepare their use)  
He willed his wife (for first mean) to produce  
His Bow to us, to draw; of which, no one  
Could stir the string: Himself yet, set upon  
The deadly strength it held; Drew all, with ea●e;  
Shot through the steels, and then began to seize  
Our armless bosoms; striking first, the breast  
Of King Antinous, and then the ●est  
In heaps turned over: hopeful of his end,  
Because some God (he knew) stood firm his friend.  
Nor proved it worse with him; but all in flood,  
The Pavement strait, blushed with our vital blood:  
And thus our souls came here; our bodies laid  
Neglected in his roofs: no word conveyed  
To any friend, to take us home and give  
Our wounds fit balming▪ not let such as live  
Entomb our deaths: and for our fortunes, shed  
Those tears and dead rites, that renown the dead.  
Atrides Ghost gave answer; O blessed Son  
Of old Laertes, thou at length, hast won  
With mighty virtue, thy unmatched wife.  
How good a knowledge▪ how untouched a life  
Hath wise Penelope? How well she laid  
Her husbands right up! whom she loved a Maid?  
For which, her virtues shall extend applause  
Beyond the circles frail mortality draws;  
The deathless in this vale of death, comprising,  
Her praise, in numbers, into infinites rising.  
The daughter, Tyndarus begat, begot  
No such chaste thoughts; but cut the virgin knot  
That knit her spouse & her, with murderous swords.  
For which, posterities shall put hateful words  
To notes of her: that all her Sex defamed,  
And for her ill, shall even the good be blamed.  
To this effect, these, these digressions made  
In hell; Earth's dark, and ever-hiding shade.  
Ulysses, and his Son (now past the Town)  
Soon reached the field, elaborately grown  
By old Laertes labour: when, with cares  
For his lost Son, he left, all Court affairs;  
And took to this r●de upland▪ which, with toil  
He made a sweet and habitable soil:  
Where stood a house to him; about which, ran  
In turnings thick, and Labyrinthian,  
Poor Hovels, where his necessary men  
That did those works (of pleasure to him then)  
Might sit, and eat, and sleep. In his own house  
An old Sicilian Dame lived; studious  
To serve his sour age with her cheerful pains.  
Then said Ulysses to his Son, and Swains;  
Go you to Town, and for your dinner kill  
The best Swine ye can choo●e; myself will still  
Stay with my father, and assay his eye,  
If my acknowledged truth, it can descry;  
Or that my long times travail, doth so change  
My sight to him, that I appear as strange.  
Thus gave he arms to them, and home he hied:  
Ulysses to the fruitful field, applied  
His present place: nor found he Dolius there,  
His sons, or any servant, any where  
In all that spacious ground; all gone from thence,  
Were dragging bushes, to repair a Fence,  
Old Dolius leading all. Ulysses' found  
His father far above, in that fair ground,  
Employed in pruning of a Plant: his weeds  
All torn and tattered; fit for homely deeds,  
But not for him. Upon his legs he wore  
Patched boots, to guard him from the brambles gore:  
His hands, had thorne-proofe hedging Mittens on;  
His head a Goats-skin Cask: through all which shone  
His heart given over, to abiectest moan.  
Him, when Ulysses saw, consumed with age,  
And all the Ensigns on him, that the rage  
Of grief presented: he broke out in tears:  
And (taking stand then, where a tree of Pears  
Shot high his forehead over him) his mind  
Had much contention. If to yield to kind,  
Make strait way to his father; kiss, embrace,  
T●ll his return, and put on all the face  
And fashion of his, instant told return,  
Or stay th'impulsion; and the long day burn  
Of his quite loss given, in his Father's fear,  
A little longer: trying first his cheer  
With some free dalliance; th'earnest being so near.  
This course his choice preferred, and forth he went:  
His Father then, his aged shoulders bend  
Beneath what years had stooped; about a Tree  
Busily digging: O, old man (said he)  
You want no skill, to dress and deck your ground,  
For all your Plants doth ordered distance bound:  
No Apple, Pear, or Olive, Fig, or Vine;  
Nor any plat, or quarter, you confine  
To grass, or flowers, stands empty of your care,  
Which shows exact in each peculiar:  
And yet (which let not move you) you bestow  
No care upon yourself; though to this show  
●f outward irksomeness, to what you are,  
You labour with an inward froward care,  
Which is your age; that should wear all without  
More neat, and cherishing. I make no doubt  
That any sloth you use, procures your Lord  
To let an old man, go so much abhorred  
In all his weeds; nor shines there in your look  
A fashion, and a goodliness, so took  
With abject qualities, to merit this  
Nasty entreaty: Your resemblance is  
A very Kings, and shines through this retreat.  
You look like one, that having washed, and eat,  
Should sleep securely, lying sweet, and neat.  
It is the ground of Age, when cares abuse it,  
To know life's end; and as 'tis sweet, so use it.  
But utter truth, and tell; what Lord is he,  
That rates your labour, and your liberty?  
Whose Orchard is it, that you husband thus?  
Or quit me this doubt; For if Ithacus  
This kingdom claims for his: the man I found  
At first arrival here, is hardly sound  
Of brain, or civil; not enduring stay,  
To tell, nor hear me, my inquiry out  
Of that my friend; if still he bore about  
His life and Being; or were dived to Death,  
And in the house of him that harboureth  
The souls of men. For once he lived my guest;  
My Land and house retaining interest  
In his abode there; where there sojourned none,  
As guest, from any foreign Region  
O● more price with me. He derived his race  
From Ithaca; and said, his Father was  
Laertes, surnamed Arcesiades.  
I had him home; and all the offices  
Performed to him, that fitted any friend;  
Whose proole I did to wealthy gifts extend:  
Seven Talents, Gold; a Bowl all silver, set  
With pots of flowers: twelve robes, that had no pleat:  
Twelve cloaks (or mantles) of delicious dye:  
Twelve inner weeds: Twelve suits of Tapestry  
I gave him likewise: women skilled in use  
Of Loom, and Needle; freeing him to choose  
Four the most fair. His Father (weeping) said,  
Stranger! The earth to which you are conveyed,  
Is Ithaca; by such rude men poffest,  
Unjust and insolent, as first addressed  
To your encounter; but the gifts you gave  
Were given (alas) to the ungrateful grave.  
If with his people, where you now arrive,  
Your Fate had been to find your friend alive,  
You should have found like Guest-rites from his hand;  
Like gifts, and kind pass to your wished land.  
But how long since, received you as your guest  
Your Friend, my Son? who was th'nhappiest  
Of all men breathing, if he were at all?  
O borne, when Fates, and ill Aspects let fall  
A cruel influence for him; far away  
From Friends and Country; destined to allay  
The Sea-bred appetites; or (left ashore)  
To be by Fowls and upland Monsters tore.  
His life's kind authors; nor his wealthy wi●e,  
Bemoaning (as behooved) his parted life:  
Nor closing (as in honour's course it lies  
To all men dead) in bed, his dying eyes.  
But give me knowledge of your name, and race:  
What City bred you? Where the anchoring place  
Your ship now rides at lies, that shored you here?  
And where you men? Or if a passenger  
In others Keels you came; who (giving Land  
To your adventures here, some other Strand  
To fetch in further course) have left to us  
Your welcome presence? His reply was thus:  
I am of Alybande, where I hold  
My names chief house, to much renown extolled.  
My Father Aphidantes; famed to spring  
From Polypemon; the Molossian King:  
My name, Eperitus. My taking land  
On this fair Isle, was ruled by the command  
Of God, or Fortune: quite against consent  
Of my free purpose; that, in course was bend  
For th'Isle Sicania. My Ship is held  
far from the City, near an ample field.  
And for (Ulysses) since his pass from me  
'Tis now five years. Unblessed by Destiny,  
That all this time, hath had the Fate to err:  
Though, at his parting, good Birds did augur  
His putting off, and on his right hand flew;  
Which, to his passage, my affection drew:  
His spirit joyful, and my hope was now  
To guest with him, and see his hand bestow  
Rights of our friendship. This, a cloud of grief  
Cast over all the forces of his life.  
With both his hands, the burning dust he swept  
Up from the earth, which on his head he heaped,  
And fetched a sigh, as in it, life were broke:  
Which grieved his Son, and gave so smart a stroke  
Upon his nostrils, with the inward stripe,  
That up the Vein rose there; and weeping ripe  
He was, to see his Sire feel such woe  
For his dissembled joy; which now (let go)  
He sprung from earth, embraced and kissed his Sire:  
And said; O Father: he, of whom y'enquire  
Am I myself, that (from you, twenty years)  
Is now returned. But do not break in tears;  
For now, we must not forms of kind maintain▪  
But haste and guard the substance. I have stain  
All my wives wooers; so, revenging no●  
Their wrong so long time suffered. Take not you  
The comfort of my coming then, to heart  
At this glad instant; but, in proved desert  
Of your grave judgement; give mo●e, glad suspense,  
And, on the sudden, put this consequence  
In act as absolute, as all time went  
To ripening of your resolute assent.  
All this haste made no● his staid faith, so free  
To trust his words; who said, If you are he,  
Approve it by some sign. This 〈◊〉 then see  
(Replied Ulysses) given me by the Bore  
Slain in Parnassus; I being sent before  
By yours, and by my honoured Mothers will,  
To see your Sire A●tolycus fulfil  
The gifts he vowed, at gining of my Name.  
I'll tell you too, the Trees (in goodly frame  
Of this fair Orchard) that I asked of you  
Being yet a child; and followed, for your show  
And name of every Tree. You gave me then  
Of figtrees, forty; Apple bearers, ten;  
Peartrees, thirteen; and fifty ranks of Vine;  
Each one of which, a season did confine  
For his best eating. Not a Grape did grow;  
That grew not there, and had his heavy brow  
When Ioues fair daughters (the all-ripening hours)  
Gave timely date to it. This charged the pow is  
Both of his knees and heart, with such impression  
Of sudden comfort, that it g●ue possession  
Of all, to Trance: The signs were all so true,  
And did the love, that ga●e them; so renew.  
His cast his arms about his son, and sunk;  
The circle, slipping to his feet. So shrunk  
Were all his ages forces, with the fire  
Of his young love rekindled. The old Sire,  
The Son took up, quite lifeless: But his breath  
Again respiring; and his soul from death  
His body's powers recovering: Out he cried,  
And said; O jupiter! I now have tried,  
That still there live in heaven, remembering Gods,  
Of men that serve them; though the periods  
They set to their appearances, are long  
In best men's sufferings; yet, as sure, as strong  
They are in comforts: be their strange delays  
Extended never so, from days to days.  
Yet see the short joys, or the soone-mixt fears  
Of helps withheld by them, so many years:  
For, if the wooers now, have paid the pain  
Due to their impious pleasures; Now, again  
Extreme fear takes me, lest we strait shall see  
Th' Ithacensians here, in mutiny;  
Their Messengers dispatched, to win to friend  
The Cephalenian Cities. Do not spend  
Your thoughts on these cares (said his suffering son)  
But be of comfort; and see that course ron  
That best, may shun the worst: Our house is near;  
Telemachus, and both his Herdsmen, there  
To dress our supper with their utmost haste;  
And thither haste we. This said; Forth they passed;  
Came home, and found Telemachus, at feast  
With both his Swains: while who had done, all dressed  
With Baths, and Balms, and royally arrayed  
The old King was, by his Sicilian Maid.  
By whose side, Pallas stood, his crookt-age streitning;  
His flesh more plumping; and his looks enlightening:  
Who issuing then to view, his son admired  
The God's Aspects▪ into his form inspired:  
And said; O Father: certainly some God  
By your addression in this state, hath stood;  
More great, more reverend, rendering you by far,  
At all your parts, then of yourself, you are.  
I would to jove (said he) the Sun, and She  
That bears Ioues shield, the state had stood with me,  
That helped me take in the wel-builded towers  
Of strong Nericus (the Cephalian powers  
To that fair City, leading) two days past,  
While with the wooers, thy conflict did last;  
And I had then been in the wooers wreak;  
I should have helped thee so, to render weak  
Their stubborn knees, that in thy joys desert,  
Thy breast had been too little for thy heart.  
This said; and supper ordered by their men,  
They sat to it; old Dolius entering then;  
And with him (tired with labour) his sons came,  
Called by their Mother, the Sicilian dame  
That brought them up, and dressed their Father's fare.  
As whose age grew; with it, increased her care  
To see him served as fitted. When (thus set)  
These men beheld Ulysses there, at meat;  
They knew him; and astonished in the place,  
Stood at his presence: who, with words of grace  
Called to old Dolius, saying; Come, and eat,  
And banish all astonishment: your meat  
Hath long been ready▪ and ourselves made stay,  
Expecting ever, when your wished way  
Would reach amongst us. This brought fiercely on  
Old Dolius from his stand; who ran upon  
(With both his arms abroad) the King, and kissed  
Of both his rapt up hands, the either wrist;  
Thus welcoming his presence: O my Love,  
Your presence here (for which all wishes strove)  
No one expected. Even the Gods have gone  
In guide before you, to your mansion:  
Welcome, and all joys, to your heart, contend.  
Knows yet Penelope? Or shall we send.  
Some one to tell her this? She knows (said he)  
What need these troubles (Father) touch at thee?  
Then came the Sons of D●lius; and again  
Went over with their Fathers entertain;  
Welcomed, shook hands; & then to feast sat down;  
About which, while they sat; about the Town  
Fame flew, and shrieked about, the cruel death  
And Fate, the wooers had sustained beneath  
Ulysses' roofs. All heard; together all,  
From hence, and thence met, in Ulysses' Hall,  
Short-breathed, and noiseful: Bore out all the dead  
To instant burial: while their deaths were spread  
To other Neighbor-Cities, where they lived:  
From whence, in swiftest Fisher-boats, arrived  
Men to transfer them home. In mean space, here  
The heavy Nobles, all in counsail● were;  
Where (met in much heap) up to all arose  
Extremely-greeued Eupitheus; so to lose  
His Son Antinous; who▪ first of all  
By great Ulysses' hand, had slaughterous fall.  
Whose Father (weeping for him) said; O Friends,  
This man hath authored works of dismal ends;  
Long since, conveying in his g●ide to Troy,  
Good men, and many, that did ships employ:  
All which are lost, and all their Soldiers dead;  
And now, the best men Cephalenia b●ed  
His hand hath slaughtered. Go we then (before  
His escape to Pylos, or the Elean Shore  
Where rule the Epeans) against his horrid hand:  
For we shall grieve, and infamy will brand  
Our Fames for ever; if we see our Sons  
And Brother's end in these confusions,  
Revenge left uninflicted. Nor will I  
Enjoy one days life more; But grieve, and die  
With instant onset. Nor should you survive  
To keep a base, and beastly name alive.  
Haste then, let flight prevent us. This with tears  
His griefs advisd, and made all sufferers  
In his affliction. But by this, was come  
Up to the Counsel, from Ulysses' home  
(When sleep had left them, which the slaughters there  
And their self dangers, from their eyes, in fear  
Had two nights intercepted) those two men,  
That just Ulysses saved out of the slain;  
Which Medon, and the sacred Singer were.  
These stood amidst the Counsel; and the fear  
The slaughter had impressed, in either's look  
Stuck still so ghastly; that amaze it struck  
Through every there beholder: To whose ears  
One thus enforced, in his fright, cause of theirs:  
Attend me Ithacensians; This stern fact  
Done by Ulysses, was not put in act  
Without the God's assistance; These self eyes  
Saw one of the immortal Deities  
Close by Ulysses; Mentors form put on  
At every part: and this sure Deity, shone  
Now near Ulysses, setting on his bold  
And slaughterous spirit: Now, the points controlled  
Of all the wooers weapons; round about  
The armed house whisking; in continual rout  
Their party putting, till in heaps they fell.  
This news, new fears did through their spirits impel:  
When Halitherses (honoured Mastors' son,  
Who of them all, saw only what was done  
Present, and future) the much-knowing man  
And aged Hero, this plain course ran  
Amongst their counsels: Give me likewise ear;  
And let me tell ye, Friends; that these ills bear  
On your malignant spleens, their sad effects;  
Who, not what I persuaded, gave respects:  
Nor what the people's Pastor (〈◊〉) said;  
That you should see your issues follies stayed  
In those foul courses; by their petulant life  
The goods devouring, scandaling the wife  
Of no mean person; who (they still would say)  
Could never more see his returning day:  
Which yet, appearing now: now give it trust,  
And yield to my free counsels: Do not thrust  
Your own safe persons, on the acts, your Sons  
So dearly bought, lest their confusions  
On your loved heads, your like addictions draw.  
This stood so far, from force of any Law  
To curb their loose attempts, that much the more  
They rushed to wreak, and made rude tumult roar.  
The greater part of all the Court arose▪  
Good counsel could not ill designs dispose.  
Eupitheus was persuader of the course;  
Which (complete armed) they put in present force:  
The rest, sat still in counsel. These men met  
Before the broad Town, in a place they set  
All girt in arms; Eupitheus choosing Chief  
To all their follies, who put grief to grief;  
And in his slaughtered sons revenge did burn.  
But Fate gave never feet to his return;  
Ordaining there his death. Then Pall●● spoke  
To jove, her Father, with intent to make  
His will, high Arbiter, of th'act designed;  
And asked of him, what his unsearched mind  
Held vndiscour●d; If with Arms▪ and ill,  
And grave encounter, he would first fulfil  
His sacred purpose; or both parts combine  
In peaceful friendship? He asked, why incline  
These doubts, thy counsels? Hast not thou decreed  
That Ithacus should come, and give his deed  
The glory of revenge, on these and theirs?  
Perform thy will; the frame of these affairs  
Have this fit issue. When Ulysses' hand  
Hath reached full wreak; his then r●●●wn'd command  
Shall reign for ever: Faithful Truces struck  
'Twixt him, and all; For every man shall brook  
His Sons and Brothers slaughters; by our mean  
To send Oblivion in; exp●gning clean  
The Character of enmity in all,  
As in best Leagues before. Peace, Festival,  
And Riches in abundance, be the state,  
That crowns the close of Wise Ulysses' Fate.  
This spurred the Free; who, from heavens Continent  
To th' Ithacensian Isle, made strait descent.  
Where (dinner past) Ulysses said; Some one  
Look out to see their nearness. Dolius son  
Made present speed abroad, and saw them nigh;  
Run back, and told; Bad Arm; and instantly  
Were all in arms. Ulysses' part, was four;  
And six more sons of Dolius: All his power  
Two only more, which were his aged Sire,  
And like-yeared Dolius, whose lives slaked fire;  
All white had left their heads: yet, driven by Need,  
Made Soldiers both, of necessary deed.  
And now, all girt in arms; the Po●ts, set wide,  
They sallied forth, Vl●sses being their guide.  
And to them▪ in the instant, Pallas came,  
In form and voice, like Mentor; who, a flame  
Inspired of comfort in Ulysses' heart  
With her seen presence. To his Son, apart  
He thus then spoke; Now Son, your eyes shall see  
(Exposed in slaughterous fight) the enemy;  
Against whom, who shall best serve, will be seen:  
Disgrace not then your race, that yet hath been  
For force, and fortitude, the foremost tried,  
Of all earth's offsprings. His true Son replied;  
Yourself shall see (loved Father) if you please,  
That my deservings shall in nought digress  
From best fame of our Races foremost merit.  
The old King sprung for joy, to hear his spirit:  
And said; O loved Immortals, what a day  
Do your clear bounties to my life display?  
I joy, past measure, to behold my Son  
And Nephew, close in such contention  
Of virtues martial. Pallas (standing nee●e)  
Said, O my Friend! Of all, supremely dear  
Seed of Arcesius; Pray to jove, and her  
That rules in Arms, (his daughter) and a da●●  
(Spritefully brandished) hurl at th'adverse part.  
This said, He prayed; and she, a mighty force  
Inspired within him; who gave instant course  
To his brave-brandisht Lance, which struck the brass  
That cheeked Eupitheus' Cask; and thrust his pass  
Quite through his head; who fell, & sounded falling;  
His Arms, the sound again, from earth recalling.  
Ulysses, and his Son, rushed on before;  
And with their both-way-headed Darts, did gore  
Their enemy's breasts so thick, that all had gone  
The way of slaughter, had not Pallas thrown  
Her voice betwixt them, charging all to stay  
And spare expense of blood. Her voice did fray  
The blood so from their faces, that it left  
A greenish paleness. All their hands it rest  
Of all their weapons; falling thence, to earth:  
And to the common Mo●her of their Birth  
(The City) all fled, in 〈◊〉 to save  
The lives yet left them. Then Ulysses gave  
A horrid shout; and like Ioues Eagle flew.  
In fiery pursuit, till Saturnius threw  
His smoking lightning twixt them; that had fall  
Before Minerva: who th●●, out did call  
Thus to Ulysses: Borne of jove! abstain  
From further bloodshed▪ 〈◊〉 hand in the slain●  
Hath equalled in their pains, their prides to thee;  
Abstain then, lest you move the Deity.  
Again then, twixt both parts, the seed of jove  
(Athenian Pallas) of all future love  
A league composed; and for her fo●me, took choice  
Of Mentors' likeness; both in Limb, and Voice.  
The End of the XXIIII. and last Book of Homer's Odysseys.   

So wrought divine Ulysses through his 〈◊〉:  
So, crowned the Light with him; His ●●●hers Throes▪  
As through his great Renowner, I have wrought  
And my safe sail, to sacred Anchor br●●ght.  
Nor did the Argive ship, more burden feel,  
That bore the Care of all men, in her Keel●;  
Then my adventurous Bark: The Colchean Fleece,  
Not half so precious, as this roll of Greece.  
In whose songs I have 〈…〉,  
And Greek it self veil, to our English voice.  
Yet this inestimable Pearl, wit all  
Our Dunghill Chantich●r●s, 〈…〉;  
Each Modern scraper, this 〈◊〉 scratching by;  
His Oat preferring far. Let such, let lie:  
So scorn the stars the clouds; as true-souled men  
Despise Deceivers. For, as Clouds would feign  
Obscure the Stars yet (Regions left below  
With all their envies) bar them but of show;  
For they shine ever, and will shine, when they  
Dissolve in sinks, make Mire, and temper Day:  
So puffed Impostors (our Muse-vapours) strive,  
With their selfe-blowne additions, to deprive  
Men solid, of their full; though infinite short  
They come in their compare; and false report  
Of leveling, or touching, at their light,  
That still retain their radiance, and clear right;  
And shall shine ever When, alas, one blast  
Of least disgrace, tears down th' Impostors Mast;  
His Tops, and Tackle; His whole Freight, and He  
Confiscate to the Fishy Monarchy;  
His trash, by foolish Fame bought now, from hence,  
Given to ser●e Mackerell forth, and Frankincense.  
Such then, and any; too soft-eyed to see  
Through works so solid, any worth, so free  
Of all the learned professions, as is fit  
To praise at such price; let him think his wit  
Too weak to rate it; rather than oppose  
With his poor powers, Ages, and Hosts of Foes.   

To the Ruins of Troy, and Greece.  
TRoy raced; Greece wracked: who mourns? Ye both may boast;  
Else th' Ilyads, and Odysseys, had been lost.   

Ad Deum.  
THe only true God, (betwixt whom and Me,  
I only bound my comforts; and agree  
With all my actions) only truly knows,  
And can judge truly me, with all that goes  
To all my Faculties. In whose free grace  
And inspiration, I only place  
All means to know (with my means; Study, praire,  
In, & from his word taken) stair by stair,  
In all continual contentation, rising  
To knowledge of his Truth; and practising  
His will in it, with my sole saviours aid,  
●uide, and enlightening: Nothing done, nor said,  
Nor thought that good is; but acknowledged by  
His inclination, skill, and faculty.  
By which, to find the way out to his 〈◊〉  
Past all the worlds; the sphere is, where doth mo●e  
My studies, prayers, and powers: No pleasure taken  
But signed by his: for which, my blood forsaken,  
My so●le I clean to: and what (in his blood  
That hath redeemed, cleansed, taught her) fits her good.  
Deo opt. Max. gloria.  
FINIS.