The Odyssey of Homer. Homer

we made, for Neptune smooth’d

       The waves before us of the monstrous Deep.

       At Tenedos arriv’d, we there perform’d

       Sacrifice to the Gods, ardent to reach

       Our native land, but unpropitious Jove,

       Not yet designing our arrival there, 200

       Involved us in dissension fierce again.

       For all the crews, followers of the King,

       Thy noble Sire, to gratify our Chief,

       The son of Atreus, chose a diff’rent course,

       And steer’d their oary barks again to Troy.

       But I, assured that evil from the Gods

       Impended, gath’ring all my gallant fleet,

       Fled thence in haste, and warlike Diomede

       Exhorting his attendants, also fled.

       At length, the Hero Menelaus join’d 210

       Our fleets at Lesbos; there he found us held

       In deep deliberation on the length

       Of way before us, whether we should steer

       Above the craggy Chios to the isle

       Psyria, that island holding on our left,

       Or under Chios by the wind-swept heights

       Of Mimas. Then we ask’d from Jove a sign,

       And by a sign vouchsafed he bade us cut

       The wide sea to Eubœa sheer athwart,

       So soonest to escape the threat’ned harm. 220

       Shrill sang the rising gale, and with swift prows

       Cleaving the fishy flood, we reach’d by night

       Geræstus, where arrived, we burn’d the thighs

       Of num’rous bulls to Neptune, who had safe

       Conducted us through all our perilous course.

       The fleet of Diomede in safety moor’d

       On the fourth day at Argos, but myself

       Held on my course to Pylus, nor the wind

       One moment thwarted us, or died away,

       When Jove had once commanded it to blow. 230

       Thus, uninform’d, I have arrived, my son!

       Nor of the Greecians, who are saved have heard,

       Or who have perish’d; but what news soe’er

       I have obtain’d, since my return, with truth

       I will relate, nor aught conceal from thee.

       The spear-famed Myrmidons, as rumour speaks,

       By Neoptolemus, illustrious son

       Of brave Achilles led, have safe arrived;

       Safe, Philoctetes, also son renown’d

       Of Pæas; and Idomeneus at Crete 240

       Hath landed all his followers who survive

       The bloody war, the waves have swallow’d none.

       Ye have yourselves doubtless, although remote,

       Of Agamemnon heard, how he return’d,

       And how Ægisthus cruelly contrived

       For him a bloody welcome, but himself

       Hath with his own life paid the murth’rous deed.

       Good is it, therefore, if a son survive

       The slain, since Agamemnon’s son hath well

       Avenged his father’s death, slaying, himself, 250

       Ægisthus, foul assassin of his Sire.

       Young friend! (for pleas’d thy vig’rous youth I view,

       And just proportion) be thou also bold,

       That thine like his may be a deathless name.

       Then, prudent, him answer’d Telemachus.

       Oh Nestor, Neleus’ son, glory of Greece!

And righteous was that vengeance; his renown Achaia’s sons shall far and wide diffuse, To future times transmitting it in song. Ah! would that such ability the Gods 260 Would grant to me, that I, as well, the deeds Might punish of our suitors, whose excess Enormous, and whose bitter taunts I feel Continual, object of their subtle hate. But not for me such happiness the Gods Have twined into my thread; no, not for me Or for my father. Patience is our part. To whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied. Young friend! (since thou remind’st me of that theme) Fame here reports that num’rous suitors haunt 270 Thy palace for thy mother’s sake, and there Much evil perpetrate in thy despight. But say, endur’st thou willing their controul Imperious, or because the people, sway’d By some response oracular, incline Against thee? But who knows? the time may come When to his home restored, either alone, Or aided by the force of all the Greeks, Ulysses may avenge the wrong; at least, Should Pallas azure-eyed thee love, as erst 280 At Troy, the scene of our unnumber’d woes, She lov’d Ulysses (for I have not known The Gods assisting so apparently A mortal man, as him Minerva there) Should Pallas view thee also with like love And kind solicitude, some few of those Should dream, perchance, of wedlock never more. Then answer thus Telemachus return’d. That word’s accomplishment I cannot hope; It promises too much; the thought alone 290 O’erwhelms me; an event so fortunate Would, unexpected on my part, arrive, Although the Gods themselves should purpose it. But Pallas him answer’d cærulean-eyed. Telemachus! what word was that which leap’d The iv’ry guard7 that should have fenced it in? A God, so willing, could with utmost ease Save any man, howe’er remote. Myself, I had much rather, many woes endured, Revisit home, at last, happy and safe, 300 Than, sooner coming, die in my own house, As Agamemnon perish’d by the arts Of base Ægisthus and the subtle Queen. Yet not the Gods themselves can save from death All-levelling, the man whom most they love, When Fate ordains him once to his last sleep. To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied. Howe’er it interest us, let us leave This question, Mentor! He, I am assured, Returns no more, but hath already found 310 A sad, sad fate by the decree of heav’n. But I would now interrogate again Nestor, and on a different theme, for him In human rights I judge, and laws expert, And in all knowledge beyond other men; For he hath govern’d, as report proclaims, Three generations; therefore in my eyes He wears the awful impress of a God. Oh Nestor, son of Neleus, tell me true; What was the manner of Atrides’ death, 320 Wide-ruling Agamemnon? Tell me where Was Menelaus? By what means contrived Ægisthus to inflict the fatal blow, Slaying so much a nobler than himself? Had not the brother of the Monarch reach’d Achaian Argos yet, but, wand’ring still In other climes, his long absence gave Ægisthus courage for that bloody deed? Whom answer’d the Gerenian Chief renown’d. My son! I will inform thee true; meantime 330 Thy own suspicions border on the fact. Had Menelaus, Hero, amber hair’d, Ægisthus found living at his return From Ilium, never on his bones the Greeks Had heap’d a tomb, but dogs and rav’ning fowls Had torn him lying in the open field Far from the town, nor him had woman wept Of all in Greece, for he had foul transgress’d. But we, in many an arduous task engaged, Lay before Ilium; he, the while, secure 340 Within the green retreats of Argos, found Occasion apt by flatt’ry to delude The spouse of Agamemnon; she, at first, (The royal Clytemnestra) firm refused The deed dishonourable (for she bore A virtuous mind, and at her side a bard Attended ever, whom the King, to Troy Departing, had appointed to the charge.) But when the Gods had purposed to ensnare Ægisthus, then dismissing far remote 350 The bard into a desart isle, he there Abandon’d him to rav’ning fowls a prey, And to his own home, willing as himself, Led Clytemnestra. Num’rous thighs he burn’d On all their hallow’d altars to the Gods, And hung with tap’stry, images, and gold Their shrines, his great exploit past hope atchiev’d. We (Menelaus and myself) had sailed From Troy together, but when we approach’d Sunium,