The Odysseys of Homer, together with the shorter poems · Homer
ANOTHER ARGUMENT
To her women she Applied her sway; and to the wooers he Began new orders, other spirits bewray’d Than those in spite of which the wooers sway’d. And (whiles his mother’s tears still wash’d her eyes, Till grey Minerva did those tears surprise With timely sleep, and that her wooers did rouse Rude tumult up through all the shady house, Dispos’d to sleep because their widow was) Telemachus this new-giv’n spirit did pass On their old insolence: “Ho! you that are, My mother’s wooers! much too high ye bear Your petulant spirits; sit; and, while ye may Enjoy me in your banquets, see ye lay These loud notes down, nor do this man the wrong, Because my mother hath disliked his song, To grace her interruption. ’Tis a thing Honest, and honour’d too, to hear one sing Numbers so like the Gods in elegance, As this man flows in. By the morn’s first light,[11] I’ll call ye all before me in a Court, That I may clearly banish your resort, With all your rudeness, from these roofs of mine. Away; and elsewhere in your feasts combine. Consume your own goods, and make mutual feast At either’s house.
Or if ye still hold best, And for your humours’ more sufficéd fill, To feed, to spoil, because unpunish’d still, On other findings, spoil; but here I call Th’ Eternal Gods to witness, if it fall In my wish’d reach once to be dealing wreaks, By Jove’s high bounty, these your present checks To what I give in charge shall add more reins To my revenge hereafter; and the pains Ye then must suffer shall pass all your pride Ever to see redress’d, or qualified.” At this all bit their lips, and did admire His words sent from him with such phrase and fire; Which so much mov’d them that Antinous, Eupitheus’ son, cried out: “Telemachus! The Gods, I think, have rapt thee to this height Of elocution, and this great conceit Of self-ability. We all may pray, That Jove invest not in this kingdom’s sway Thy forward forces, which I see put forth A hot ambition in thee for thy birth.” “Be not offended,” he replied, “if I[12] Shall say, I would assume this empery, If Jove gave leave.
You are not he that sings: _The rule of kingdoms is the worst of things._ Nor is it ill, at all, to sway a throne; A man may quickly gain possession Of mighty riches, make a wondrous prize Set of his virtues; but the dignities That deck a king, there are enough beside In this circumfluous isle that want no pride To think them worthy of, as young as I, And old as you are. An ascent so high My thoughts affect not. Dead is he that held Desert of virtue to have so excell’d. But of these turrets I will take on me To be the absolute king, and reign as free, As did my father, over all his hand Left here in this house slaves to my command.” Eurymachus, the son of Polybus, To this made this reply: “Telemachus! The girlond of this kingdom let the knees Of Deity run for; but the faculties This house is seis’d of, and the turrets here, Thou shalt be lord of, nor shall any bear The least part off of all thou dost possess, As long as this land is no wilderness. Nor rul’d by out-laws. But give these their pass, And tell me, best of princes, who he was That guested here so late? From whence?
And what In any region boasted he his state? His race? His country? Brought he any news Of thy returning father? Or for dues Of moneys to him made he fit repair? How suddenly he rush’d into the air, Nor would sustain to stay and make him known! His port show’d no debauch’d companion.” He answer’d: “The return of my lov’d sire Is past all hope; and should rude Fame inspire From any place a flatt’ring messenger With news of his survival, he should bear No least belief off from my desp’rate love. Which if a sacred prophet should approve, Call’d by my mother for her care’s unrest, It should not move me. For my late fair guest, He was of old my father’s, touching here From sea-girt Taphos; and for name doth bear Mentas, the son of wise Anchialus; And governs all the Taphians studious Of navigation.” This he said, but knew It was a Goddess. These again withdrew To dances and attraction of the song; And while their pleasures did the time prolong, The sable Even descended, and did steep The lids of all men in desire of sleep.
Telemachus, into a room built high, Of his illustrious court, and to the eye Of circular prospect, to his bed ascended, And in his mind much weighty thought contended Before him Euryclea (that well knew All the observance of a handmaid’s due, Daughter to Opis Pisenorides) Bore two bright torches; who did so much please Laërtes in her prime, that, for the price Of twenty oxen, he made merchandise Of her rare beauties; and love’s equal flame, To her he felt, as to his nuptial dame, Yet never durst he mix with her in bed, So much the anger of his wife he fled. She, now grown old, to young Telemachus Two torches bore, and was obsequious Past all his other maids, and did apply Her service to him from his infancy. His well-built chamber reach’d, she op’d the door, He on his bed sat, the soft weeds he wore Put off, and to the diligent old maid Gave all; who fitly all in thick folds laid, And hung them on a beam-pin near the bed, That round about was rich embroidered. Then made she haste forth from him, and did bring The door together with a silver ring, And by a string a bar to it did pull. He, laid, and cover’d well with curled wool Wov’n in silk quilts, all night employ’d his mind About the task that Pallas had design’d.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.