And native city’s; ship and men unfold,
That to this isle convey’d you, since I hold
Your here arrival was not all by shore,
Nor that your feet your aged person bore.’
He answer’d him: ‘I’ll tell all strictly true,
If time, and food, and wine enough, accrue
Within your roof to us, that freely we
May sit and banquet. Let your business be
Discharg’d by others; for, when all is done,
I cannot easily, while the year doth run
His circle round, run over all the woes,
Beneath which, by the course the gods dispose,
My sad age labours. First, I’ll tell you then,
From ample Crete I fetch my native strain;
My father wealthy, whose house many a life
Brought forth and bred besides by his true wife,
But me a bond-maid bore, his concubine.
Yet tender’d was I as his lawful line
By him of whose race I my life profess,
Castor his name, surnamed Hylacides –
A man, in fore-times, by the Cretan state,
For goods, good children, and his fortunate
Success in all acts, of no mean esteem.
But death-conferring fates have banish’d him
To Pluto’s kingdom. After whom, his sons
By lots divided his possessions,
And gave me passing little; yet bestow’d
A house on me, to which my virtues woo’d
A wife from rich men’s roofs; nor was borne low,
Nor last in fight, though all nerves fail me now.
But I suppose that you, by thus much seen,
Know by the stubble what the corn hath been.
For, past all doubt, affliction past all mean
Hath brought my age on; but, in seasons past,
Both Mars and Pallas have with boldness grac’d,
And fortitude, my fortunes, when I chus’d
Choice men for ambush, press
’
d to have produc’d
Ill to mine enemies; my too vent’rous spirit
Set never death before mine eyes, for merit,
But, far the first advanc’d still, still I strook
Dead with my lance whoever overtook
My speed of foot. Such was I then for war.
But rustic actions ever fled me far,
And household thrift, which breeds a famous race.
In oar-driv’n ships did I my pleasures place,
In battles, light darts, arrows, sad things all,
And into others’ thoughts with horror fall.
But what god put into my mind, to me
I still esteem’d as my felicity.
As men of several metals are address’d,
So several forms are in their souls impress’d.
Before the sons of Greece set foot in Troy,
Nine times, in chief, I did command enjoy
Of men and ships against our foreign foe,
And all I fitly wish’d succeeded so.
Yet after this, I much exploit achiev’d,
When straight my house in all possessions thriv’d.
Yet after that, I great and reverend grew
Amongst the Cretans, till the Thunderer drew
Our forces out in his foe-Troy decrees –
A hateful service that dissolv
’
d the knees
Of many a soldier. And to this was I,
And famous Idomen, enjoin’d t’ apply
Our ships and pow’rs. Nor was there to be heard
One reason for denial, so preferr’d
Was the unreasonable people’s rumour.
Nine years we therefore fed the martial humour,
And in the tenth, de-peopling Priam’s town,
We sail’d for home. But god had quickly blown
Our fleet in pieces; and to wretched me
The counsellor Jove did much mishap decree,
For only one month I had leave t’ enjoy
My wife and children, and my goods t’ employ.
But, after this, my mind for Egypt stood,
When nine fair ships I rigg’d forth for the flood,
Mann’d them with noble soldiers, all things fit
For such a voyage soon were won to it.
Yet six days after stay’d my friends in feast,
While I in banquets to the gods address’d
Much sacred matter for their sacrifice.
The seventh, we boarded; and the northern skies
Lent us a frank and passing prosperous gale,
’Fore which we bore as free and easy sail
As we had back’d a full and frolic tide;
Nor felt one ship misfortune for her pride,
But safe we sat, our sailors and the wind
Consenting in our convoy. When heav’n shin’d
In sacred radiance of the fifth fair day,
To sweetly-water’d Egypt reach’d our way,
And there we anchor’d; where I charg’d my men
To stay aboard, and watch. Dismissing then
Some scouts to get the hill-tops, and discover,
They (to their own intemperance given over)
Straight fell to forage the rich fields, and thence
Enforce both wives and infants, with th’ expence
Of both their bloods. When straight the rumour flew
Up to the city. Which heard, up they drew
By day’s first break, and all the field was fill’d
With foot and horse, whose arms did all things gild.
And then the lightning-loving deity cast
A foul flight on my soldiers – nor stood fast
One man of all – about whom Mischief stood,
And with his stern steel drew in streams the blood
The greater part fed in their dissolute veins;
The rest were sav’d, and made enthralled swains
To all the basest usages there bred.
And then, ev’n Jove himself supplied my head
With saving counsel, though I wish’d to die,
And there in Egypt with their slaughters lie,
So much grief seiz’d me; but Jove made me yield,
Dishelm my head, take from my neck my shield,
Hurl from my hand my lance, and to the troop
Of horse the king led instantly made up,
Embrace, and kiss his knees; whom pity won
To give me safety, and (to make me shun
The people’s outrage, that made in amain,
All jointly fired with thirst to see me slain)
He took me to his chariot, weeping, home,
Himself with fear of Jove’s wrath overcome,
Who yielding souls receives, and takes most ill
All such as well may save yet love to kill.
Seven years I sojourn’d here, and treasure gat
In good abundance of th’ Egyptian state,
For all would give; but when th’ eighth year began,
A knowing fellow (that would gnaw a man
Like to a vermin, with his hellish brain,
And many an honest soul ev’n quick had slain,
Whose name was Phoenix) close accosted me,
And with insinuations, such as he
Practis’d on others, my consent he gain’d
To go into Phoenicia, where remain’d
His house, and living. And with him I liv’d
A complete year; but when were all arriv’d
The months and days, and that the year again
Was turning round, and every season’s reign
Renew’d upon us, we for Libya went,
When, still inventing crafts to circumvent,
He made pretext, that I should only go
And help convey his freight; but thought not so,
For his intent was to have sold me there,
And made good gain for finding me a year.
Yet him I follow’d, though suspecting this,
For, being aboard his ship, I must be his
Of strong necessity. She ran the flood
(Driv’n with a northern gale, right free, and good)
Amids the full stream, full on Crete. But then
Jove plotted death to him and all his men,
For (put off quite from Crete, and so far gone
That shore was lost, and we set eye on none,
But all show’d heav’n and sea) above our keel
Jove pointed right a cloud as black as hell,
Beneath which all the sea hid, and from whence
Jove thunder’d as his hand would never thence,
And thick into our ship he threw his flash,
That ’gainst a rock, or flat, her keel did dash
With headlong rapture. Of the sulphur all
Her bulk did savour; and her men let fall
Amids the surges, on which all lay tost
Like sea-gulls, round about her sides, and lost.
And so god took all home-return from them.
But Jove himself, though plung’d in that extreme,
Recover’d me by thrusting on my hand
The ship’s long mast. And, that my life might stand
A little more up, I embrac’d it round,
And on the rude winds, that did ruins sound,
Nine days we hover’d. In the tenth black night
A huge sea cast me on Thesprotia’s height,
Where the heroë Phidon, that was chief
Of all the Thesprots, gave my wrack relief,
Without the price of that redemption
That Phoenix fish’d for. Where the king’s lov’d son
Came to me, took me by the hand, and led
Into his court my poor life, surfeited
With cold and labour; and because my wrack
Chanc’d on his father’s shore, he let not lack
My plight or coat or cloak, or anything
Might cherish heat in me. And here the king
Said he receiv’d Ulysses as his guest,
Observ’d him friend-like, and his course address’d
Home to his country, showing there to me
Ulysses’ goods, a very treasury
Of brass, and gold, and steel of curious flame.
And to the tenth succession of his name
He laid up wealth enough, to serve beside
In that king’s house, so hugely amplified
His treasure was. But from his court the king
Affirm’d him shipp’d for the Dodonean spring,
To hear, from out the high-hair’d oak of Jove,
Counsel from him for means to his remove
To his lov’d country, whence so many a year
He had been absent; if he should appear
Disguis’d, or manifest; and further swore
In his mid court, at sacrifice, before
These very eyes, that he had ready there
Both ship and soldiers, to attend and bear
Him to his country. But, before, it chanc’d
That a Thesprotian ship was to be launch’d
For the much-corn-renown’d Dulichian land,
In which the king gave to his men command
To take, and bring me under tender hand
To king Acastus. But in ill design
Of my poor life did their desires combine,
So far forth, as might ever keep me under
In fortune’s hands, and tear my state in sunder.
And when the water-treader far away
Had left the land, then plotted they the day
Of my long servitude, and took from me
Both coat and cloak, and all things that might be
Grace in my habit, and in place put on
These tatter’d rags, which now you see upon
My wretched bosom. When heav’n’s light took sea,
They fetch’d the field-works of fair Ithaca,
And in the arm’d ship, with a well-wreath’d cord,
They straitly bound me, and did all disboard
To shore to supper, in contentious rout.
Yet straight the gods themselves took from about
My pressed limbs the bands, with equal ease,
And I, my head in rags wrapp’d, took the seas,
Descending by the smooth stern, using then
My hands for oars, and made from these bad men
Long way in little time. At last, I fetch’d
A goodly grove of oaks, whose shore I reach’d,
And cast me prostrate on it. When they knew
My thus-made ’scape, about the shores they flew,
But, soon not finding, held it not their best
To seek me further, but return’d to rest
Aboard their vessel. Me the gods lodg’d close,
Conducting me into the safe repose
A good man’s stable yielded. And thus fate
This poor hour added to my living date.’
‘O wretch of guests,’ said he, ‘thy tale hath stirr’d
My mind to much ruth, both how thou hast err’d,
And suffer’d, hearing in such good parts shown.
But, what thy chang’d relation would make known
About Ulysses, I hold neither true,
Nor will believe. And what need’st thou pursue
A lie so rashly, since he sure is so
As I conceive, for which my skill shall go?
The safe return my king lacks cannot be,
He is so envied of each deity,
So clear, so cruelly. For not in Troy
They gave him end, nor let his corpse enjoy
The hands of friends (which well they might have done,
He manag’d arms to such perfection,
And should have had his sepulchre, and all,
And all the Greeks to grace his funeral,
And this had giv’n a glory to his son
Through all times future), but his head is run
Unseen, unhonour’d, into Harpies’ maws.
For my part, I’ll not meddle with the cause;
I live a separate life amongst my swine,
Come at no town for any need of mine,
Unless the circularly-witted queen
(When any far-come guest is to be seen
That brings her news) commands me bring a brawn,
About which (all things being in question drawn,
That touch the king) they sit, and some are sad
For his long absence, some again are glad
To waste his goods unwreak’d, all talking still.
But, as for me, I nourish’d little will
T’ inquire or question of him, since the man
That feign’d himself the fled Aetolian,
For slaught’ring one, through many regions stray’d,
In my stall, as his diversory, stay’d.
Where well entreating him, he told me then,
Amongst the Cretans, with king Idomen,
He saw Ulysses at his ship’s repair,
That had been brush’d with the enraged air;
And that in summer, or in autumn, sure,
With all his brave friends and rich furniture,
He would be here; and nothing so, nor so.
But thou, an old man, taught with so much woe
As thou hast suffer’d, to be season’d true,
And brought by his fate, do not here pursue
His gratulations with thy cunning lies.