And into well-sew’d sacks pour’d foody meal.
In mean time he, with cunning to conceal
All thought of this from others, himself bore
In broad house, with the wooers, as before.
Then grey-eyed Pallas other thoughts did own,
And like Telemachus trod through the town,
Commanding all his men in th’ even to be
Aboard his ship. Again then question’d she
Noemon, famed for aged Phronius’ son,
About his ship; who all things to be done
Assured her freely should. The sun then set,
And sable shadows slid through every street,
When forth they launch’d, and soon aboard did bring
All arms, and choice of every needful thing
That fits a well-rigg’d ship. The goddess then
Stood in the port’s extreme part, where her men,
Nobly appointed, thick about her came,
Whose every breast she did with spirit enflame.
Yet still fresh projects laid the grey-eyed dame.
Straight to the house she hasted, and sweet sleep
Pour’d on each wooer; which so laid in steep
Their drowsy temples, that each brow did nod,
As all were drinking, and each hand his load,
The cup, let fall. All start up, and to bed,
Nor more would watch, when sleep so surfeited
Their leaden eyelids. Then did Pallas call
Telemachus, in body, voice and all
Resembling Mentor, from his native nest,
And said, that all his arm’d men were addrest
To use their oars, and all expected now
He should the spirit of a soldier show.
‘Come then,’ said she, ‘no more let us defer
Our honour’d action.’ Then she took on her
A ravish’d spirit, and led as she did leap;
And he her most haste took out step by step.
Arrived at sea and ship, they found ashore
The soldiers that their fashion’d-long hair wore;
To whom the prince said: ‘Come my friends, let’s bring
Our voyage’s provision; every thing
Is heap’d together in our court; and none –
No not my mother, nor her maids – but one
Knows our intention.’ This express’d, he led,
The soldiers close together followed;
And all together brought aboard their store.
Aboard the prince went; Pallas still before
Sat at the stern, he close to her, the men
Up hasted after. He and Pallas then
Put from the shore. His soldiers then he bad
See all their arms fit; which they heard, and had.
A beechen mast, then, in the hollow base
They put, and hoisted, fix’d it in his place
With cables; and with well-wreath’d halsers hoise
Their white sails, which grey Pallas now employs
With full and fore-gales through the dark deep main.
The purple waves, so swift cut, roar’d again
Against the ship sides, that now ran and plow’d
The rugged seas up. Then the men bestow’d
Their arms about the ship, and sacrifice
With crown’d wine-cups to th’ endless deities
They offer’d up. Of all yet thron’d above,
They most observ’d the grey-eyed seed of Jove;
Who, from the evening till the morning rose,
And all day long, their voyage did dispose.
The end of the second book
Book 3
The Argument
Telemachus, and heav’n’s wise dame
That never husband had, now came
To Nestor; who his either guest
Received at the religious feast
He made to Neptune on his shore,
And there told what was done before
The Trojan turrets, and the state
Of all the Greeks since llion’s fate.
This book these three of greatest place
Doth serve with many a varied grace.
Which past, Minerva takes her leave.
Whose state when Nestor doth perceive,
With sacrifice he makes it known,
Where many a pleasing rite is shown.
Which done, Telemachus hath gain’d
A chariot of him; who ordain’d
Pisistratus, his son, his guide
To Sparta; and when starry-eyed
The ample heav’n began to be,
All house-rites to afford them free,
In Pheris, Diocles did please,
His surname Ortilochides.
Another Argument
Gamma
Ulysses’ son
With Nestor lies,
To Sparta gone;
Thence Pallas flies.
Book 3
T
h
e 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 every seat set with five hundred men,
And each five hundred was to furnish then
With nine black oxen every 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 power 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 demanders, 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 mysel
f
? 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, carv’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 receipt,
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 prayed 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 Neleus 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 renowned 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-suffering 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 several 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 suf
f
’
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 lived, 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 even 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 counsel but, by one soul led,
With spirit and prudent counsel furnished
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 prosperous 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 Euboea, 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 Geraestus 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 complete 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, every Myrmidon,
Led by the brave heir of the mighty-soul’d
Unpeer’d Achilles, safe of home got hold;
Safe Philoctetes, Paean’s famous seed;
And safe Idomeneus his men led
To his home, Crete, who fled the armed 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 Aegisthus to a bitter death;
Who miserably paid for forced 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 every soul;