That could my fancy or my beauty feed.”
Her husband said: “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 belov’d,
As that in which th’ accomplish’d spirit mov’d
Of patient Ulysses. What, brave man,
He both did act, and suffer, when he wan
The town of Ilion, in the brave-built horse,
When all we chief states of the Grecian force
Were hous’d together, bringing death and Fate
Amongst the Trojans, you, wife, may relate;
For you, at last, came to us; God, that would
The Trojans’ glory give, gave charge you should
Approach the engine; and Deiphobus,
The god-like, follow’d. Thrice ye circled us
With full survey of it; and often tried
The hollow crafts that in it were implied. [4]
When all the voices of their wives in it
You took on you with voice so like and fit,
And ev’ry man by name so visited,
That I, Ulysses, the king Diomed,
(Set in the midst, and hearing how you call’d)
Tydides, and myself (as half appall’d
With your remorseful plaints) would passing fain
Have broke our silence, rather than again
Endure, respectless, their so moving cries.
But Ithacus our strongest phantasies
Contain’d within us from the slenderest noise,
And ev’ry man there sat without a voice.
Anticlus only would have answer’d thee,
But his speech Ithacus incessantly
With strong hand held in, till, Minerva’s call
Charging thee off, Ulysses sav’d us all.”
Telemachus replied: “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 swell’d 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 her handmaid go,
And put fair bedding in the portico,
Lay purple blankets on, rugs warm and soft,
And cast an arras coverlet aloft.
They torches 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-train-wearing spouse,
The excellent of women, for the way,
In a retir’d receit, 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 journey’s proposition:
“And what, my young Ulyssean heroë,
Provok’d thee on the broad back of the sea,
To visit Lacedæmon the divine?
Speak truth, some public [good] or only thine?”
“I come,” said he, “to hear, if any fame
Breath’d of my father to thy notice came.
My house is sack’d, my fat works of the field
Are all destroy’d; 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 witness’d 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 suff’rance bred you so much smart,
Upon my father good Ulysses’ part,
And quit it now to me (himself in youth)
Unfolding only the uncloséd truth.”
He, deeply sighing, answer’d him: “O shame,
That such poor vassals should affect the fame
To share the joys of such a worthy’s bed!
As when a hind, her calves late farrowéd,
To give suck, enters the bold lion’s den,
He roots of hills and herby vallies then
For food (there feeding) hunting; but at length
Returning to his cavern, gives his strength
The lives of both the mother and her brood
In deaths indecent; so the Wooers’ blood
Must pay Ulysses’ pow’rs 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
Perform’d in well-built Lesbos, where, down-right
He strook the earth with him, and gat a shout
Of all the Grecians! O, if now full out
He were as then, and with the Wooers coped,
Short-liv’d they all were, and their nuptials hoped