The Odyssey. Homer

Attemper'd to the lyre, your voice employ;

       Such the pleased ear will drink with silent joy.

       But, oh! forbear that dear disastrous name,

       To sorrow sacred, and secure of fame;

       My bleeding bosom sickens at the sound,

       And every piercing note inflicts a wound."

       "Why, dearest object of my duteous love,

       (Replied the prince,) will you the bard reprove?

       Oft, Jove's ethereal rays (resistless fire)

       The chanters soul and raptured song inspire

       Instinct divine? nor blame severe his choice,

       Warbling the Grecian woes with heart and voice;

       For novel lays attract our ravish'd ears;

       But old, the mind with inattention hears:

       Patient permit the sadly pleasing strain;

       Familiar now with grief, your tears refrain,

       And in the public woe forget your own;

       You weep not for a perish'd lord alone.

       What Greeks new wandering in the Stygian gloom,

       Wish your Ulysses shared an equal doom!

       Your widow'd hours, apart, with female toil

       And various labours of the loom beguile;

       There rule, from palace-cares remote and free;

       That care to man belongs, and most to me."

       Mature beyond his years, the queen admires

       His sage reply, and with her train retires.

       Then swelling sorrows burst their former bounds,

       With echoing grief afresh the dome resounds;

       Till Pallas, piteous of her plaintive cries,

       In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes.

       Meantime, rekindled at the royal charms,

       Tumultuous love each beating bosom warms;

       Intemperate rage a wordy war began;

       But bold Telemachus assumed the man.

       "Instant (he cried) your female discord end,

       Ye deedless boasters! and the song attend;

       Obey that sweet compulsion, nor profane

       With dissonance the smooth melodious strain.

       Pacific now prolong the jovial feast;

       But when the dawn reveals the rosy east,

       I, to the peers assembled, shall propose

       The firm resolve, I here in few disclose;

       No longer live the cankers of my court;

       All to your several states with speed resort;

       Waste in wild riot what your land allows,

       There ply the early feast, and late carouse.

       But if, to honour lost, 'tis still decreed

       For you my bowl shall flow, my flock shall bleed;

       Judge and revenge my right, impartial Jove!

       By him and all the immortal thrones above

       (A sacred oath), each proud oppressor slain,

       Shall with inglorious gore this marble stain."

       Awed by the prince, thus haughty, bold, and young,

       Rage gnaw'd the lip, and wonder chain'd the tongue.

       Silence at length the gay Antinous broke,

       Constrain'd a smile, and thus ambiguous spoke:

       "What god to your untutor'd youth affords

       This headlong torrent of amazing words?

       May Jove delay thy reign, and cumber late

       So bright a genius with the toils of state!"

       "Those toils (Telemachus serene replies)

       Have charms, with all their weight, t'allure the wise.

       Fast by the throne obsequious fame resides,

       And wealth incessant rolls her golden tides.

       Nor let Antinous rage, if strong desire

       Of wealth and fame a youthful bosom fire:

       Elect by Jove, his delegate of sway,

       With joyous pride the summons I'd obey.

       Whene'er Ulysses roams the realm of night,

       Should factious power dispute my lineal right,

       Some other Greeks a fairer claim may plead;

       To your pretence their title would precede.

       At least, the sceptre lost, I still should reign

       Sole o'er my vassals, and domestic train."

       To this Eurymachus: "To Heaven alone

       Refer the choice to fill the vacant throne.

       Your patrimonial stores in peace possess;

       Undoubted, all your filial claim confess:

       Your private right should impious power invade,

       The peers of Ithaca would arm in aid.

       But say, that stranger guest who late withdrew,

       What and from whence? his name and lineage shew.

       His grave demeanour and majestic grace

       Speak him descended of no vulgar race:

       Did he some loan of ancient right require,

       Or came forerunner of your sceptr'd sire?"

       "Oh son of Polybus!" the prince replies,

       "No more my sire will glad these longing eyes;

       The queen's fond hope inventive rumour cheers,

       Or vain diviners' dreams divert her fears.

       That stranger-guest the Taphian realm obeys,

       A realm defended with encircling seas.

       Mentes, an ever-honour'd name, of old

       High in Ulysses' social list enroll'd."

       Thus he, though conscious of the ethereal guest,

       Answer'd evasive of the sly request.

       Meantime the lyre rejoins the sprightly lay;

       Love-dittied airs, and dance, conclude the day

       But when the star of eve with golden light

       Adorn'd the matron brow of sable night,

       The mirthful train dispersing quit the court,

       And to their several domes to rest resort.

       A towering structure to the palace join'd;

       To this his steps the thoughtful prince inclined:

       In his pavilion there, to sleep repairs;

       The lighted torch, the sage Euryclea bears

       (Daughter of Ops, the just Pisenor's son,

       For twenty beeves by great Laertes won;

       In rosy prime with charms attractive graced,

       Honour'd by him, a gentle lord and chaste,

       With dear esteem: too wise, with jealous strife

       To taint the joys of sweet connubial life.

       Sole with Telemachus her service ends,

       A child she nursed him, and a man attends).

       Whilst to his couch himself the prince address'd,

       The duteous dame received