ARGUMENT.
THE DEATH OF THE SUITORS.
ULYSSES begins the slaughter of the suitors by the death of Antinous. He declares himself, and lets fly his arrows at the rest. Telemachus assists, and brings arms for his father, himself, Eumæus, and Philætius. Melanthius does the same for the wooers, Minerva encourages Ulysses in the shape of Mentor. The suitors are all slain, only Medon and Phemius are spared. Melanthius and the unfaithful servants are executed. The rest acknowledge their master with all demonstrations of joy.
THEN fierce the hero o'er the threshold strode; Stripp'd of his rags, he blaz'd out like a god. Full in their face the lifted bow he bore, And quiver'd deaths, a formidable store: Before his feet the rattling shower he threw, And thus, terrific, to the suitor crew:
"One venturous game this hand has won today Another, princes! yet remains to play; Another mark our arrow must attain, Phoebus, assist! nor be the labour vain." Swift as the word the parting arrow sings, And bears thy fate, Antinous, on its wings: Wretch that he was, of unprophetic soul ! High in his hands he rear'd the golden bowl! Even then to drain it lengthen'd out his breath; Chang'd to the deep, the bitter draught of death: For fate who fear'd amidst a feastful band? And fate to numbers, by a single hand? Full through his throat Ulysses' weapon pass'd, And pierc'd the neck. He falls, and breathes his last.
The tumbling goblet the wide floor o'erflows, A stream of gore burst spouting from his nose; Grim in convulsive agonies he sprawls: Before him spurn'd the loaded table falls, And spreads the pavements with a mingled flood Of floating meats, and wine, and human blood. Amaz'd, confounded, as they saw him fall, Uprose the throngs tumultuous round the hall; O'er all the dome they cast a haggard eye, Each look'd for arms: in vain ; no arms were nigh: "Aim'st thou at princes?" (all amaz'd they said) "Thy last of games unhappy hast thou play'd; Thy erring shaft has made our bravest bleed, And death, unlucky guest, attends thy deed. Vultures shall tear thee."-Thus incens'd they spoke,
While each to chance ascrib'd the wondrous stroke, Blind as they were; for death ev'n now invades His destin'd prey, and wraps them all in shades. Then, grimly frowning with a dreadful look, That wither'd all their hearts, Ulysses spoke: "Dogs, ye have had your day! ye fear'd no Ulysses vengeful from the Trojan shore; [more While, to your lust and spoil a guardless prey, Our house, our wealth, our helpless handmaids lay:
Not so content, with bolder frenzy fir'd, Ev'n to our bed presumptuous you aspir'd: Laws or divine or human fail'd to move, Or shame of men, or dread of gods above: Heedless alike of infamy or praise, Or fame's eternal voice in future days: The hour of vengeance, wretches, now is come, Impending fate is yours, and instant doom."
Thus dreadful he. Confus'd the suitors stood, From their pale cheeks redes the flying blood: Trembling they sought their guilty heads to hide, Alone the bold Eurymachus reply'd:
"If, as thy words impart," (he thus began) Ulysses lives, and thou the mighty man, Great are thy wrongs, and much hast thou sustain'd
In thy spoil'd palace, and exhausted land; The cause and author of those guilty deeds, Lo! at thy feet unjust Antinous bleeds. Not love, but wild ambition was his guide; To slay thy son, thy kingdoms to divide, These were his aims; but juster Jove deny'd. Since cold in death th' offender lies: oh, spare Thy suppliant people, and receive their prayer! Brass, gold and treasures, shall the spoil defray, Two hundred oxen every prince shall pay: The waste of years refunded in a day. Till then thy wrath is just"-Ulysses burn'd With high disdain, and sternly thus return'd: All, all the treasures that enrich'd our throne Before your rapines, join'd with all your own, If offer'd, vainly should for mercy call; 'Tis you that offer, and I scorn them alt; Your blood is my demand, your lives the prize, Till pale as yonder wretch each suitor lies. Hence with those coward terms; or fight or fly; This choice is left you, to resist or die; And die I trust ye shall."-He sternly spoke : With guilty fears the pale assembly shook. Alone Eurymachus exhorts the train: "Yon archer, comrades, will not shoot in vain; But from the threshold shall his darts be sped, (Whoe'er he be) till every prince lie dead? Be mindful of yourselves, draw forth your swords. And to his shafts obtend these ample boards (So need compels). Then all united strive The bold invader from his post to drive; The city rous'd shall to our rescue haste, And this mad archer soon have shot his last." Swift as he spoke, he drew his traitor sword, And like a lion rush'd against his lord: The wary chief the rushing foe repress'd, Who met the point, and forc'd it in his breast: His falling hand deserts the lifted sword, And prone he falls extended o'er the board! Before him wide, in mix'd effusion, roll Th' untasted viands, and the jovial bowl. Full through his liver pass'd the mortal wound, With dying rage his forehead beats the ground, He spurn'd the seat with fury as he fell, And the fierce soul to darkness div'd, and Hell. Next bold Amphinomus his arm extends To force the pass; the godlike man defends. Thy spear, Telemachus! prevents th' attack, The brazen weapon driving through his back, Thence through his breast its bloody passage tore; Flat falls he thundering on the marble floor, And his crush'd forehead marks the stone with gor He left his javelin in the dead, for fear The long incumbrance of the weighty spear
To the fierce foe advantage might afford, To rush between and use the shorten'd sword. With speedy ardour to his sire he flies, And," Arm, great father! arm," (in haste he cries.) "Lo! hence I run for other arms to wield, For missile javelins, and for helm and shield; Fast by our side let either faithful swain In arms attend us, and their part sustain."
"Haste and return," (Ulysses made reply). "While yet th' auxilia; shafts this hand supply; Lest thus alone, encounter'd by an host, Driv'n from the gate, th' important pass be lost." With speed Telemachus obeys, and flies Where pil'd on heaps the royal armour lies; Four brazen helmets, eight refulgent spears, And four broad bucklers, to his sire he bears. At once in brazen panoply they shone,
At once each servant brac'd his armour on ; Around their king a faithful guard they stand, While yet each shaft flew deathful from his hand : Chief after chief expir'd at every wound, And swell'd the bleeding mountain on the ground. Soon as his store of flying fates was spent, Against the wall he set the bow unbent: And now his shoulders bear the massy shield, And now his hands two beamy javelins wield : He frowns beneath his nodding plume, that play'd O'er the bign crest, and cast a dreadful shade. There stood a window near, whence looking down From o'er the porch appear'd the subject town. A double strength of valves secur'd the place, A high and narrow, but the only pass : The cautious king, with all-preventing care, To guard that outlet, plac'd Eumæus, there: When Agelaus thus: "Has none the sense To mount yon window, and alarm from thence The neighbour town? The town shall force the door,
And this bold archer soon shall shoot no more." Melanthius then: "That outlet to the gate So near adjoins, that one may guard the strait. But other methods of defence remain, Myself with arms can furnish all the train ; Stores from the royal magazine I bring, And their own darts shall pierce the prince and king."
He said; and, mounting up the lofty stairs, Twelve shields, twelve lances, and twelve helmets All arm, and sudden round the hall appears [bears: A blaze of bucklers, and a wood of spears.
The hero stands oppress'd with mighty woe, On every side he sees the labour grow: "Oh curst event! and, oh! unlook'd for aid! Melanthius, or the women have betray'd- Oh, my dear son !"-the father with a sigh! Then ceas'd; the filial virtue made reply: "Falsehood is folly, and 'tis just to own The fault committed; this was mine alone; My haste neglected yonder door to bar, And hence the villain has supply'd their war. Run, good Eumeus, then, and (what before I thoughtless err'd in) well secure that door: Learn, if by female fraud this deed was done, Or (as my thought misgives) by Dolius' son."
While yet they spoke, in quest of arms again To the high chamber stole the faithless swain, Not unobserv'd. Eumæus watchful ey'd, And thus address'd Ulysses near his side:
"The miscreant we suspected takes that way; Him, if this arm be powerful, shall I slay?
Or drive him hither, to receive the meed From thy own hand, of this detested deed ?" "Not so" (reply'd Ulysses)" leave him there, For us sufficient is another care: Within the structure of this palace wall To keep enclos'd his masters till they fall. Go you, and seize the felon: backward bind His arms and legs, and fix a plank behind; On this his body by strong cords extend And on a column near the roof supsend : So study'd tortures his vile days shall end." The ready swains obey'd with joyful haste, Behind the felon unperceiv'd they pass'd, As round the room in quest of arms he goes (The half-shut door conceal'd his lurking foes): One hand sustain'd a helm, and one the shield Which old Laertes wont in youth to wield, Cover'd with dust, with dryness chapt and worn, The brass corroded, and the leather torn: Thus laden, o'er the threshold as he stepp'd, Fierce on the villain from each side they leap'd, Back by the hair the trembling dastard drew, And down reluctant on the pavement threw. Active and pleas'd the zealous swains fulfil At every point their master's rigid will: First, fast behind, his hands and feet they bound, Then straighten'd cords involv'd his body round: So drawn aloft, athwart the column ty'd, The howling felon swung from side to side.
Eumæus scoffing then with keen disdain: "There pass thy pleasing night, O gentle swain! On that soft pillow, from that envy'd height First may'st thou see the springing dawn of light; So timely rise, when morning streaks the east, To drive thy victims to the suitors' feast.".
This said, they left him, tortur'd as he lay, Secur'd the door, and hasty strode away: Each, breathing death, resum'd his dangerous post Near great Ulysses; four against an host. When, lo descending to our hero's aid Jove's daughter Pallas, war's triumphant maid : In Mentor's friendly form she join'd his side; Ulysses saw, and thus with transport cry'd:
Come, ever welcome, and thy succour lend: Oh, every sacred name in one! my friend! Early we lov'd, and long our loves have grown : Whate'er through life's whole series I have done Or good, or grateful, now to mind recall, And, aiding this one hour, repay it all."
Thus he; but pleasing hopes his bosom warm Of Pallas latent in the friendly form. The adverse host the phantom warrior ey'd, And first, loud threatening, Agelaüs cry'd:
"Mentor, beware! nor let that tongue persuade Thy frantic arm to lend Ulysses aid; Our force successful shall our threat make good, And with the sire and son's commix thy blood. What hop'st thou here? Thee first the sword shall Then lop thy whole posterity away; [slay,
Far hence thy banish'd consort shall we send ; With his, thy forfeit lands and treasures blend; Thus, and thus only, shalt thou join thy friend." His barbarous insult ev'n the goddess fires, Who thus the warrior to revenge inspires;
Art thou Ulysses? where then shall we find The patient body and the constant mind? That courage, once the Trojans' daily dread, Known nine long years, and felt by heroes dead? And where that conduct, which reveng'd the lust Of Priam's race, and laid proud Troy in dust?
If this, when Helen was the cause, were done; What for thy country now, thy queen, thy son? Rise then in combat, at my side attend; Observe what vigour gratitude can lend, And foes how weak, oppos'd against a friend!" She spoke; but, willing longer to survey The sire and son's great acts, withheld the day; By farther toils decreed the brave to try, And level pois'd the wings of victory : Then with a change of form eludes their sight, Perch'd like a swallow on a rafter's height, And unperceiv'd enjoys the rising fight.
Damasto's son, bold Agelaüs, leads The guilty war; Eurynomus succeeds; With these, Pisander, great Polyctor's son, Sage Polybus, and stern Amphimedon, With Demoptolemus: these six survive; The best of all, the shafts had left alive. Amidst the carnage desperate as they stand, Thus Agelaus rous'd the lagging band.
"The hour is come, when yon fierce man no more With bleeding princes shall bestrow the floor. Lo! Mentor leaves him with an empty boast; The four remain, but four against an host. Let each at once discharge the deadly dart, One sure of six shall reach Ulysses' heart: The rest must perish, their great leader slain; Thus shall one stroke the glory lost regain."
Then all at once their mingled lances threw, And thirsty all of one man's blood they flew ; In vain! Minerva turn'd them with her breath, And scatter'd short, or wide, the points of death; With deaden'd sound, one on the threshold falls, One strikes the gate, one rings against the walls: The storm pass'd innocent. The godlike man Now loftier trod, and dreadful thus began: [throw ""Tis now (brave friends) our turn, at once to (So speed them Heaven) our javelins at the foe. That impious race to all their past misdeeds Would add our blood. Injustice still proceeds." He spoke at once their fiery lances flew : Great Demoptolemus Ulysses slew; Euryades receiv'd the prince's dart; The goatherd's quiver'd in Pisander's heart; Fierce Elatus by thine, Eumæus, falls; Their fall in thunder echoes round the walls. The rest retreat; the victors now advance, Each from the dead resumes his bloody lance. Again the foe discharge the steely shower; Again made frustrate by the virgin power. Some, turn'd by Pallas, on the threshold fall; Some wound the gate, some ring against the wall; Some weak, or ponderous with the brazen head, Drop harmless on the pavement sounding dead. Then bold Amphimedon his javelin cast; Thy hand, Telemachus, it lightly raz'd: And from Ctesippus' arm the spear elanc'd On good Eumæus' shield and shoulder glanc'd: Not lessen'd of their force (so slight the wound) Each sung along, and dropp'd upon the ground. Fate doom'd the next, Eurydamus, to bear Thy death, ennobled by Ulysses' spear. By the bold son Amphimedon was slain : And Polybus renown'd, the faithful swain. Picre'd through the breast the rude Ctesippus bled, And thus Philætius gloried o'er the dead. [dain; "There end thy pompous vaunts and high disOh! sharp in scandal, voluble, and vain! How weak is mortal pride! To Heaven alone Th' event of actions and our fates are known;
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Now Pallas shines confess'd! aloft she spreads The arm of vengeance o'er their guilty heads; The dreadful ægis blazes in their eye; Amaz'd they see, they tremble, and they fly: Confus'd, distracted, through the rooms they fling, Like oxen madden'd by the breeze's sting, When sultry days, and long, succeed the gentle spring.
Not half so keen fierce vultures of the chase Stoop from the mountains on the feather'd race, When, the wide field extended snares beset, With conscious dread they shun the quivering net: No help, no flight: but, wounded every way, Headlong they drop: the fowlers seize the prey. On all sides thus they double wound on wound, In prostrate heaps the wretches beat the ground, Unmanly shrieks precede each dying groan, And a red deluge floats the reeking stone. Leiodes first before the victor falls; The wretched augur thus for mercy calls; "Oh gracious hear! nor let thy suppliant bleed: Still undishonour'd, or by word or deed, Thy house, for me, remains; by me repress'd Full oft was check'd th' injustice of the rest: Averse they heard me when I counsell'd well, Their hearts were harden'd, and they justly fell. Oh! spare an augur's consecrated bead, Nor add the blameless to the guilty dead!"
"Priest as thou art! for that detested band Thy lying prophecies deceiv'd the land: Against Ulysses have thy vows been made, For them, thy daily orisons were paid: Yet more, ev'n to our bed thy pride aspires: One common crime one common fate requires." Thus speaking, from the ground the sword he took Which Agelaus' dying hand forsook;
Full through his neck the weighty falchion spel; Along the pavement roll'd the muttering head.
Phemius alone the hand of vengeance spar'd, Phemius the sweet, the Heaven-instructed bard. Beside the gate the reverend minstrel stands; The lyre, now silent, trembling in his hands; Dubious to supplicate the chief, or fly To Jove's inviolable altar nigh, Where oft Laërtes holy vows had paid, And oft Ulysses smoking victims laid. His honour'd harp with care he first set down, Between the laver and the silver throne; Then prostrate stretch'd before the dreadful man, Persuasive, thus with accent soft began:
"O king! to mercy be thy soul inclin'd, And spare the poet's ever gentle kind; A deed like this thy future fame would wrong; For dear to gods and men is sacred song. Self-taught I sing; by Heaven, and Heaven alone, The genuine seeds of poesy are sown; And (what the gods bestow) the lofty lay, The gods alone, and godlike worth, we pay. Save then the poet, and thyself reward; "Tis thine to merit, mine is to record. That here I sung, was force, and not desire; This hand reluctant touch'd the warbling wire;
And let thy son attest, nor sordid pay, Nor servile flattery, stain'd the moral lay." The moving words Telemachus attends, His sire approaches, and the bard defends. 'Oh! mix not, father, with those impious dead The man divine; forbear that sacred head! Medon, the herald, too our arms may spare, Medon, who made my infancy his care; If yet he breathes, permit thy son to give Thus much to gratitude, and bid him live.”
Beneath a table, trembling with dismay, Couch'd close to earth, unhappy Medon lay, Wrapp'd in a new-slain ox's ample hide : Swift at the word he cast his screen aside, Sprung to the prince, embrac'd his knee with tears, And thus with grateful voice address'd his ears: "O prince! O friend! lo! here thy Medon Ah! stop the hero's unresisted hands, Incens'd too justly by that impious brood Whose guilty glories now are set in blood." To whom Ulysses with a pleasing eye: "Be bold, on friendship and my son rely; Live an example for the world to read, How much more safe the good than evil deed: Thou, with the Heaven-taught bard, in peace resort From blood and carnage to yon open court: Me other work requires”—With timorous awe From the dire scene th' exempted two withdraw, Scarce sure of life, look round, and trembling
To the bright altars of protector Jove."
Meanwhile Ulysses search'd the dome, to find If yet there live of all th' offending kind. Not one! complete the bloody tale he found, All steep'd in blood, all gasping on the ground. So when, by hollow shores, the fisher train Sweep with their arching nets the hoary main, And scarce the meshy toils the copious draught All naked of their element and bare, [contain, The fishes pant and gasp in thinner air! Wide o'er the sands are spread the stiffening prey, Till the warm Sun exhales their soul away.
And now the king commands his son to call Old Euryclea to the deathful hall: The son observant not a moment stays: The aged governess with speed obeys: The sounding portals instant they display; The matron moves, the prince directs the way. On heaps of death the stern Ulysses stood, All black with dust, and cover'd thick with blood. So the grim lion from the slaughter comes, Dreadful he glares, and terribly he foams, His breast with marks of carnage painted o'er, His jaws all dropping with the bull's black gore. Soon as her eyes the welcome object met, The guilty fall'n, the mighty deed complete; A scream of joy her feeble voice assay'd: The hero check'd her, and compos'dly said"Woman, experienc'd as thou art, control Indecent joy, and feast thy secret soul. T' insult the dead, is cruel and unjust; Fate and their crime have sunk them to the dust. Nor heeded these the censure of mankind; The good and bad were equal in their mind. Justly the price of worthlessness they paid, And each now wails an unlamented shade. But thou, sincere, O Euryclea! say What maids dishonour us, and what obey? Then she: "In these thy kingly walls remain (My son) full fifty of the handmaid train,
Taught by my care to cull the fleece, or weave, And servitude with pleasing tasks deceive; Of these, twice six pursue their wicked way, Nor me, nor chaste Penelope obey;
Nor fits it that Telemachus command (Young as he is) his mother's female band. Hence to the upper chambers let me fly, Where slumbers soft now close the royal eye; There wake her with the news"--the matron cry'd. "Not so," (Ulysses more sedate reply'd) [deeds :" Bring first the crew who wronght these guilty In haste the matron parts; the king proceeds:
"Now to dispose the dead, the care remains To you, my son, and you, my faithful swains; Th' offending females to that task we doom, To wash, to scent, and purify the room. These (every table cleans'd, and every throne, And all the melancholy labour done) Drive to yon court, without the palace wall, There the revenging sword shall smite them all; So with the suitors let them mix in dust, Stretch'd in a long oblivion of their lust." He said the lamentable train appear, Each vents a groan, and drops a tender tear; Each heav'd her mournful burthen, and beneath The porch, depos'd the ghastly heaps of death. The chief severe, compelling each to move, Urg'd the dire task imperious from above. With thirsty sponge they rub the tables o'er, (The swains unite their toil) the walls, the floor, Wash'd with th' effusive wave, are purg'd of gore, Once more the palace set in fair array,
To the base court the females take their way; There compass'd close between the dome and wall, (Their life's last scene) they trembling wait their fall.
Then thus the prince: "To these shall we afford A fate so pure as by the martial sword? To these, the nightly prostitutes to shame, And base revilers of our house and name?"
Thus speaking, on the circling wall he strung A ship's tough cable, from a column hung; Near the high top he strain'd it strongly round, Whence no contending foot could reach the ground, Their heads above connected in a row, They beat the air with quivering feet below: Thus, on some tree hung struggling in the snare, The doves or thrushes flap their wings in air, Soon fled the soul impure, and left behind The empty corse to waver with the wind,
Then forth they led Melanthius, and began Their bloody work: they lopp'd away the man, Morsel for dogs! then trimm'd with brazen sheers The wretch, and shorten'd of his nose and ears; His hands and feet last felt the cruel steel : He roar'd, and torments gave his soul to HellThey wash, and to Ulysses take their way; So ends the bloody business of the day.
To Euryclea then address'd the king: 'Bring hither fire, and hither sulphur bring, To purge the palace: then, the queen attend, And let her with her matron train descend; The matron-train, with all the virgin band, Assemble here to learn their lord's command." Then Euryclea: "Joyful I obey, But cast those mean dishonest rags away; Permit me first the royal robes to bring: Ill suits this garb the shoulders of a king." [cries) "Bring sulphur straight, and fire," (the monarch She hears, and at the word obedient flies.
With fire and sulphur, cure of noxious fumes, He purg'd the walls, and blood-polluted rooms. Again the matron springs with eager pace, And spreads her lord's return from place to place. They hear, rush forth, and instant round him stand A gazing throng, a torch in every hand. They saw, they knew him, and with fond embrace Each humbly kiss'd his knee, or hand, or face; He knows them all; in all such truth appears, Ev'n he indulges the sweet joy of tears.
EURYCLEA awakens Penelope with the news of Ulysses's return, and the death of the suitors. Penelope scarcely credits her; but supposes some god has punished them, and descends from her apartment in doubt. At the first interview of Ulysses and Penelope, she is quite unsatisfied. Minerva restores him to the beauty of his youth; but the queen continues incredulous, till by some circumstances she is convinced, and falls into all the transports of passion and tender- pess. They recount to each other all that has The next past during their long separation, morning Ulysses, arming himself and his friends, goes from the city to visit his father.
THEN to the queen, as in repose she lay, The nurse with eager rapture speeds her way; The transports of her faithful heart supply A sudden youth, and give her wings to fly. [cries: "And sleeps my child?" the reverend matron "Ulysses lives! arise, my child, arise! At length appears the long-expected hour! Ulysses comes! the suitors are no more! No more they view the golden light of day! Arise, and bless thee with the glad survey !" 'Touch'd at her words, the mournful queen re- join'd,
"Ah! whither wanders thy distemper'd mind? The righteous powers, who tread the starry skies, The weak enlighten, and confound the wise, And human thought with unresisted sway, Depress or raise, enlarge or take away : Truth, by their high decree, thy voice forsakes, And folly, with the tongue of wisdom, speaks: Unkind, the fond illusion to impose! Was it to flatter or deride my woes? Never did I a sleep so sweet enjoy, Since my dear lord left Ithaca for Troy, Why must I wake to grieve; and curse thy shore, O Troy?-may never tongue pronounce thee more! Be gone another might have felt our rage, But age is sacred, and we spare thy age."
To whom with warmth: " My soul a lie disdains; Ulysses lives, thy own Ulysses reigns: That stranger, patient of the suitors' wrongs, And the rude licence of ungovern'd tongues, He, he is thine. Thy son his latent guest Long knew, but lock'd the secret in his breast i
With well-concerted art to end his woes, And burst at once in vengeance on the foes." While yet she spoke, the queen in transport
Swift from the couch, and round the matron hung: Fast from her eye destends the rolling tear, "Say, once more say, is my Ulysses here? How could that numerous and outrageous band By one be slain, though by an hero's hand?" I saw it not," she cries, "but heard alone, When death was busy, a loud dying groan; The damsel-train turn'd pale at every wound, Immur'd we sate, and catch'd each passing sound; When death had seiz'd her prey, thy son attends, And at his nod the damsel-train descends; There terrible in arms Ulysses stood, And the dead suitors almost swam in blood; Thy heart had leap'd the hero to survey, Stern as the surly lion o'er his prey, Glorious in gore now with sulphureous fires The dome he purges, now the flame aspires: Heap'd lie the dead without the palace walls, Haste, daughter, haste, thy on Ulysses calls! Thy every wish the beauteous gods bestow, Enjoy the present good and former woe; Ulysses lives, his vanquish'd foes to see; He lives to thy Telemachus and thee!"
"Ah! no;" with sighs Penelope rejoin'd; "Excess of joy disturbs thy wandering mind; How bless'd this happy hour, should he appear, Dear to us all, to me supremely dear! Ah! no; some god the suitor's deaths decrced, Some god descends, and by his hand they bleed; Blind! to contemn the stranger's righteous cause, And violate all hospitable laws!
The good they hated and the powers defy'd; But Heaven is just, and by a god they dy'd. For never must Ulysses view this shore ; Never! the lov'd Ulysses is no more "What words" (the matron cries) "have reach'd
Doubt we his presence, when he now appears? Then hear conviction: Ere the fatal day That forc'd Ulysses o'er the watery way, A boar fierce-rushing in the sylvan war Plough'd half his thigh; I saw, I saw the scar, And wild with transport had reveal'd the wound; But ere I spoke, he rose, and check'd the sound. Then, daughter, haste away! and if a lie Flow from this tongue, then let thy servant die !" To whom with dubious joy the queen replies: "Wise is thy soul, but errours seize the wise; The works of gods what mortal can survey? Who knows their motives? who shall trace their But learn we instant how the suitors trod [way? The paths of death, by man, or by a god." Thus speaks the queen, and no reply attends, But with alternate joy and fear descends; At every step debates her lord to prove! Or, rushing to his arms, confess her love! Then gliding through the marble valves, in state Oppos'd, before the shining fire she sat. The monarch, by a column high enthron'd, His eye withdrew, and fix'd it on the ground; Curious to hear his queen the silence break:
sate, and impotent to speak; O'er all the man her eyes she rolls in vain, Now hopes, now fears, now knows, then doubts At length Telemachus-Oh! who can find [again. A woman like Penelope unkind?
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