Odyssey

The sun now left the great and goodly lake,

And to the firm heav'n bright ascent did make,

To shine as well upon the mortal birth,

Inhabiting the plow'd life-giving earth,

As on the ever-treaders 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 locks doth wear,

Beeves that were wholly black gave holy flame.

Nine seats of state they made to his high name;

And ev'ry seat set with five hundred men,

And each five hundred was to furnish then

With nine black oxen ev'ry sacred seat.

These of the entrails only pleas'd to eat,

And to the God enflam'd the fleshy thighs.

By this time Pallas with the sparkling eyes,

And he she led, within the haven bore,

Struck sail, cast anchor, and trod both the shore,

She first, he after. Then said Pallas: "Now

No more befits thee the least bashful brow;

T' embolden 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 pow'r of what Fate doth repose.

Come then, go right to Nestor; 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 answer'd: "Mentor! 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 follow'd instantly.

When soon they reach'd the Pylian throngs and seats,

Where Nestor with his sons sat; and the meats,

That for the feast serv'd, round about them were

Adherents dressing, all their sacred cheer,

Being roast and boil'd meats. When the Pylians saw

These strangers come, in thrust did all men draw

About their entry, took their hands, and pray'd

They both would sit; their entry first assay'd

By Nestor's son, Pisistratus. In grace

Of whose repair, he gave them honour'd place

Betwixt his sire and brother Thrasymed,

Who sat at feast on soft fells that were spread

Along the sea sands, kerv'd, and reach'd to them

Parts of the inwards, and did make a stream

Of spritely wine into a golden bowl;

Which to Minerva with a gentle soul

He gave, and thus spake: "Ere you eat, fair guest,

Invoke the Seas' King, of whose sacred feast

Your travel hither makes ye partners now;

When, sacrificing as 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 cup's 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 receit,

Ev'n to the Goddess it did add delight,

Who thus invok'd: "Hear thou, whose vast embrace

Enspheres the whole earth, nor disdain thy 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 Pylians, that have offer'd now

This most renowned hecatomb to thee,

Remuneration fit for them, and free;

And lastly deign Telemachus and me,

The work perform'd for whose effect we came,

Our safe return, both with our ship and fame."

Thus pray'd she; and herself herself obey'd,

In th' end performing all for which she pray'd.

And now, to pray, and do as she had done,

She gave the fair round bowl t' Ulysses' son.

The meat then dress'd, and drawn, and serv'd t' each guest,

They celebrated a most sumptuous feast.

When appetite to wine and food allay'd,

Horse-taming Nestor then began, and said:

"Now life's desire is serv'd, as far as fare,

Time fits me to enquire 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 prise,

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 harden'd him within,

By this device of travel to explore

His absent father; which two girlonds wore;

His good by manage of his spirits; and then

To gain him high grace in th' accounts of men.

"O Nestor! still in whom Nelëus lives!

And all the glory of the Greeks survives,

You ask from whence we are, and I relate:

From Ithaca (whose seat is situate

Where Neius, the renownéd mountain, rears

His haughty forehead, and the honour bears

To be our sea-mark) we assay'd the waves.

The business, I must tell, our own good craves,

And not the public. I am come t' enquire,

If, in the fame that best men doth inspire

Of my most-suff'ring father, I may hear

Some truth of his estate now, who did bear

The name, being join'd in fight with you alone,

To even with earth the height of Ilion.

Of all men else, that any name did bear,

And fought for Troy, the sev'ral 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 main.

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 promis'd, render'd good

Amongst the Trojans, where ye both have tried

The Grecian suff'rance) that in nought applied

To my respect or pity you will glose,

But uncloth'd truth to my desires disclose."

"O my much-lov'd," said he, "since you renew

Remembrance of the miseries that grew

Upon our still-in-strength-opposing Greece

Amongst Troy's people, I must touch a piece

Of all our woes there, either in the men

Achilles brought by sea and led to gain

About the country, or in us that fought

About the city, where to death were brought

All our chief men, as many as were there.

There Mars-like Ajax lies; Achilles there;

There the in-counsel-like-the-Gods, his friend;

There my dear son Antilochus took end,

Past measure swift of foot, and staid 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 enquiry? You would back again,

Affected with unsufferable pain,

Before you heard it. Nine years sieg'd we them,

With all the depth and sleight of stratagem

That could be thought. Ill knit to ill past end.

Yet still they toil'd us; nor would yet Jove send

Rest to our labours, nor will scarcely yet.

But no man liv'd, 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 ev'n ravish me

To admiration. And in all consent

Your speech puts on his speech's ornament.

Nor would one say, that one so young could use,

Unless his son, a rhetoric so profuse.

And while we liv'd together, he and I

Never in speech maintain'd diversity;

Nor sat in council but, by one soul led,

With spirit and prudent counsel furnishéd

The Greeks at all hours, that, with fairest course,

What best became them, they might put in force.

But when Troy's' high tow'rs we had levell'd 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; who in council met

In vain, and timeless, when the sun was set,

And all the Greeks call'd, that came charg'd with wine.

Yet then the kings would utter their design,

And why they summon'd. Menelaus, he

Put all in mind of home, and cried, To sea.

But Agamemnon 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 turn'd from what they please.

So they, divided, on foul language stood.

The Greeks in huge rout rose, their wine-heat blood

Two ways affecting. And, that night's sleep too,

We turn'd to studying either other's woe;

When Jove besides made ready woes enow.

Morn came, we launch'd, and in our ships did stow

Our goods, and fair-girt women. Half our men

The people's guide, Atrides, did contain,

And half, being now aboard, put forth to sea.

A most free gale gave all ships prosp'rous way.

God settled then the huge whale-bearing lake,

And Tenedos we reach'd; where, for time's sake,

We did divine rites to the Gods. But Jove,

Inexorable still, bore yet no love

To our return, but did again excite

A second sad contention, that turn'd quite

A great part of us back to sea again;

Which were th' abundant-in-all-counsels man,

Your matchless father, who, to gratify

The great Atrides, back to him did fly.

But I fled all, with all that follow'd me,

Because I knew God studied misery,

To hurl amongst us. With me likewise fled

Martial Tydides. I the men he led

Gat 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 hoise

Above rough Chius, left on our left hand,

To th' isle of Psyria, or that rugged land

Sail under, and for windy Mimas steer.

We ask'd of God that some ostent might clear

Our cloudy business, who gave us sign,

And charge, that all should, in a middle line,

The sea cut for Eubœa, that with speed

Our long-sustain'd infortune might be freed.

Then did a whistling wind begin to rise,

And swiftly flew we through the fishy skies,

Till to Geræstus we in night were brought;

Where, through the broad sea since we safe had wrought,

At Neptune's altars many solid thighs

Of slaughter'd bulls we burn'd for sacrifice.

The fourth day came, when Tydeus' son did greet

The haven of Argos with his cómplete fleet.

But I for Pylos straight steer'd on my course;

Nor ever left the wind his foreright force,

Since God fore-sent it first. And thus I came,

Dear son, to Pylos, uninform'd by fame,

Nor know one sav'd by Fate, or overcome.

Whom I have heard of since, set here at home,

As fits, thou shalt be taught, nought left unshown.

The expert spear-men, ev'ry Myrmidon,

Led by the brave heir of the mighty-soul'd

Unpeer'd Achilles, safe of home got hold;

Safe Philoctetes, Pœan's famous seed;

And safe Idomenæus his men led

To his home, Crete, who fled the arméd 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 Ægisthus to a bitter death;

Who miserably paid for forcéd breath,

Atrides leaving a good son, that dyed,

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 after-times as much may thee commend."

He answer'd: "O thou greatest grace of Greece,

Orestes made that wreak his master-piece,

And him the Greeks will give a master-praise,

Verse 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 ev'ry soul;

Who, pressing me with contumelies, dare

Such things as past the pow'r of utt'rance are.

But Heav'n's great Pow'rs have grac'd my destiny

With no such honour. Both my sire and I

Are born to suffer everlastingly."

"Because you name those Wooers, friend," said he,

"Report says, many such, in spite of thee,

Wooing thy mother, in thy house commit

The ills thou nam'st. 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 grac't

Amongst the Trojans, where we suffer'd so;

(O! I did never see, in such clear show,

The Gods so grace a man, as she to him,

To all our eyes, appear'd in all her trim)

If so, I say, she would be pleas'd to love,

And that her mind's care thou so much couldst move,

As did thy father, ev'ry man of these

Would lose in death their seeking marriages."

"O father," answer'd 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, or blind Confidence,

(The Gods of Fools) or ev'ry Deity

Should will it; for 'tis past my destiny."

The burning-eyed Dame answer'd: "What a speech

Hath past the teeth-guard Nature gave to teach

Fit question of thy words before they fly!

God easily can (when to mortal eye

He's furthest off) a mortal satisfy;

And does the more still. For thy car'd-for sire,

I rather wish, that I might home retire,

After my suff'rance 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 Ægisthus, 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-lov'd man, extend his vital breath

Beyond the fix'd bounds of abhorréd Death."

"Mentor!" 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, and 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,

Sustain'd the act of his destruction,

Where then was Menelaus? How was it

That false Ægisthus, 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 breathe

Spirit enough to dare his brother's death?"

"I'll tell thee truth in all, fair son," said he:

"Right well was this event conceiv'd by thee.

If Menelaus in his brother's house

Had found the idle liver with his spouse,

Arriv'd from Troy, he had not liv'd, nor dead

Had the digg'd heap pour'd on his lustful head,

But fowls and dogs had torn him in the fields,

Far off of Argos; not a dame it yields

Had giv'n him any tear, so foul his fact

Show'd ev'n to women. Us Troy's wars had rack'd

To ev'ry sinew's sufferance, while he

In Argos' uplands liv'd, from those works free,

And Agamemnon's wife with force of word

Flatter'd and soften'd, who, at first, abhorr'd

A fact so infamous. The heav'nly dame

A good mind had, but was in blood to blame.

There was a poet, to whose care the king

His queen committed, and in ev'ry thing,

When he from Troy went, charg'd him to apply

Himself in all guard to her dignity.

But when strong Fate so wrapt-in her effects,

That she resolv'd to leave her fit respects,

Into a desert isle her guardian led,

There left, the rapine of the vultures fed.

Then brought he willing home his will's won prize,

On sacred altars offer'd many thighs,

Hung in the God's fanes 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 sail'd Sparta's king and I,

Both holding her untouch'd. And, that his eye

Might see no worse of her, when both were blown

To sacred Sunium, 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 natións of men

Excell'd in safe guide of a vessel, when

A tempest rush'd in on the ruffled 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 exequies to execute.

But sailing still the wine-hued seas, to reach

Some shore for fit performance, he did fetch

The steep mount of the Malians, and there,

With open voice, offended Jupiter

Proclaim'd the voyage his repugnant mind,

And pour'd the puffs out of a shrieking wind,

That nourish'd billows heighten'd like to hills;

And with the fleet's division fulfills

His hate proclaim'd; upon a part of Crete

Casting the navy, where the sea-waves meet

Rough Jardanus, and where the Cydons live.

There is a rock, on which the sea doth drive,

Bare, and all broken, on the confines set

Of Gortys, that the dark seas likewise fret;

And hither sent the South a horrid drift

Of waves against the top, that was the left

Of that torn cliff as far as Phæstus' strand.

A little stone the great sea's rage did stand.

The men here driv'n 'scap'd hard the ship's sore shocks,

The ships themselves being wrack'd against the rocks,

Save only five, that blue fore-castles bore,

Which wind and water cast on Egypt's shore.

When he (there victling well, and store of gold

Aboard his ships brought) his wild way did hold,

And t' other languag'd men was forc'd to roam.

Mean space Ægisthus made sad work at home,

And slew his brother, forcing to his sway

Atrides' subjects, and did sev'n years lay

His yoke upon the rich Mycenian state.

But in the eighth, to his affrighting fate,

Divine Orestes home from Athens came,

And what his royal father felt, the same

He made the false Ægisthus 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 detest.

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 spoilful guest,

Lest they consume some, and divide the rest,

And thou, perhaps, besides, thy voyage lose.

To Menelaus yet thy course dispose

I wish and charge thee; who but late arriv'd

From such a shore and men, as to have liv'd

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 anywhere,

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.

Intreat 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 spake: "O father, all good right

Bear thy directions. But divide we now

The sacrifices' tongues, mix wines, and vow

To Neptune, and the other Ever-Blest,

That, having sacrific'd, we may to rest.

The fit hour runs now, light dives out of date,

At sacred feasts we must not sit too late."

She said; they heard; the heralds water gave;

The youths crown'd 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, sacrific'd, and rose,

Wine, and divine rites us'd, to each dispose;

Minerva and Telemachus desir'd

They might to ship be, with his leave, retir'd.

He, mov'd with that, provok'd thus their abodes:

"Now Jove forbid, and all the long-liv'd Gods,

Your leaving me, to sleep aboard a ship;

As I had drunk of poor Penia's whip,

Even to my nakedness, and had nor sheet

Nor cov'ring in my house; that warm nor sweet

A guest, nor I myself, had means to sleep;

Where I, both weeds and wealthy cov'rings 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 survival, who shall guests receive,

Whomever my house hath a nook to leave."

"My much-lov'd 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 addrest

At all parts I may make our men, and cheer

All with my presence, since of all men there

I boast myself the senior, th' others are

Youths, that attend in free and friendly care

Great-soul'd Telemachus, 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 intend my way

Amongst the Caucons, 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 horse

Ablest in strength, and of the speediest course"

This said, away she flew, form'd like the fowl

Men call the ossifrage; when ev'ry soul

Amaze invaded; even th' old man admir'd,

The youth's hand took, and said: "O most desir'd,

My hope says thy proof will no coward show,

Nor one unskill'd in war, when Deities now

So young attend thee, and become thy guides;

Nor any of the heav'n-hous'd States besides,

But Tritogenia's 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 lov'd 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 pray'd he, and she heard; and home he led

His sons, and all his heaps of kindered.

Who ent'ring his court royal, ev'ry one

He marshall'd in his sev'ral seat and throne;

And ev'ry one, so kindly come, he gave

His sweet-wine cup; which none was let to have

Before his 'leventh year landed him from Troy;

Which now the butleress had leave t' employ,

Who therefore pierc'd it, and did give it vent.

Of this the old duke did a cup present

To ev'ry guest; made his Maid many a pray'r

That wears the shield fring'd with his nurse's hair,

And gave her sacrifice. With this rich wine

And food suffic'd, 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 chequer'd 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 liv'd, 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 rosy-finger'd Morn no sooner shone,

But up he rose, took air, and sat upon

A seat of white and goodly polish'd stone,

That such a gloss as richest ointments wore,

Before his high gates; where the counsellor

That match'd the Gods (his father) us'd to sit,

Who now, by fate forc'd, stoop'd 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' troop; Perseus,

The god-like Thrasymed, and Aretus,

Echephron, Stratius, and sixth and last

Pisistratus, and by him (half embrac'd

Still as they came) divine Telemachus;

To these spake Nestor, old Gerenius:

"Haste, lovéd sons, and do me a desire,

That, first of all the Gods, I may aspire

To Pallas' favour, who vouchsaf'd 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 guest's 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 seats through all the court, see straight addrest

The purest water, and get fuel fell'd."

This said, not one but in the service held

Officious hand. The ox came led from field;

The soldiers troop'd from ship; the smith he came,

And those tools brought that serv'd the actual frame

His art conceiv'd, brought anvil, hammers brought,

Fair tongs, 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 infold,

And trimm'd the off'ring so, the Goddess joy'd.

About which thus were Nestor's sons employ'd:

Divine Echephron, and fair Stratius,

Held both the horns. The water odorous,

In which they wash'd, what to the rites was vow'd,

Aretus, in a caldron all bestrow'd

With herbs and flowers, serv'd in from th' holy room

Where all were drest, and whence the rites must come.

And after him a hallow'd virgin came,

That brought the barley-cake, and blew the flame.

The axe, with which the ox should both be fell'd

And cut forth, Thrasymed stood by and held.

Perseus the vessel held that should retain

The purple liquor of the off'ring slain.

Then wash'd the pious father, then the cake

(Of barley, salt, and oil, made) took, and brake,

Ask'd many a boon of Pallas, and the state

Of all the off'ring did initiate,

In three parts cutting off the hair, and cast

Amidst the flame. All th' invocation past,

And all the cake broke, manly Thrasymed

Stood near, and sure, and such a blow he laid

Aloft the off'ring, that to earth he sunk,

His neck-nerves sunder'd, and his spirits shrunk.

Out shriek'd the daughters, daughter-in-laws, and wife

Of three-ag'd Nestor, who had eldest life

Of Clymen's daughters, chaste Eurydice.

The ox on broad earth then laid laterally

They held, while duke Pisistratus the throat

Dissolv'd, and set the sable blood afloat,

And then the life the bones left. Instantly

They cut him up; apart flew either thigh,

That with the fat they dubb'd, with art alone,

The throat-brisk, and the sweet-bread pricking on.

Then Nestor broil'd them on the coal-turn'd wood,

Pour'd black wine on; and by him young men stood,

That spits fine-pointed held, on which, when burn'd

The solid thighs were, they transfix'd, and turn'd

The inwards, cut in cantles; which, the meat

Vow'd to the Gods consum'd, they roast and eat.

In mean space, Polycasté (call'd the fair,

Nestor's young'st daughter) bath'd Ulysses' heir;

Whom having cleans'd, 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 honour'd 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 temp'rate few

Rose, and in golden bowls fill'd others wine.

Till, when the rest felt thirst of feast decline,

Nestor his sons bad fetch his high-man'd horse,

And them in chariot join, to run the course

The prince resolv'd. Obey'd, as soon as heard,

Was Nestor by his sons, who straight prepar'd

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,

Purvey'd the voyage. To the rich coach rose

Ulysses' son, and close to him ascended

The duke Pisistratus, the reins intended,

And scourg'd, 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, dark'ning ev'ry way,

When they to Pheris came; and in the house

Of Diocles (the son t' Orsilochus,

Whom flood Alphëus got) slept all that night;

Who gave them each due hospitable rite.

But when the rosy-finger'd Morn arose,

They went to coach, and did their horse inclose,

Drave forth the fore-court, and the porch that yields

Each breath a sound, and to the fruitful fields

Rode scourging still their willing flying steeds,

Who strenuously perform'd their wonted speeds.

Their journey ending just when sun went down,

And shadows all ways through the earth were thrown.