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Before thou quit the dome (nor long delay)
Thy wish produc'd in act, with pleas'd survey,
Thy wondering eyes shall view: his rightful reign
By arms avow'd Ulysses shall regain,
And to the shades devote the suitor-train."

"O Jove supreme!" the raptur'd swain replies, "With deed consummate soon the promis'd joys! These aged nerves, with new-born vigour strung, In that blest cause should emulate the young". Assents Eumæus to the prayer addrest: And equal ardours fire his loyal breast.

Meantime the suitors urge the prince's fate, And deathful arts employ the dire debate: When, in his airy tour, the bird of Jove Truss'd with his sinewy pounce a trembling dove: Sinister to their hope! This omen ey'd Amphinomus, who thus presaging cry'd:

"The gods from force and fraud the prince defend;

O peers! the sanguinary scheme suspend:
Your future thought let sable fate employ;
And give the present hour to genial joy."
From council straight th' assenting peerage ceas'd,
And in the dome prepar'd the genial feast.
Disrob'd their vests apart in order lay,

Then all with speed succinct the victims slay:
With sheep and shaggy goats the porkers bled,
And the proud steer was on the marble spread.
With fire prepar'd, they deal the morsels round,
Wine rosy-bright the brimming goblets crown'd,
By sage Eumæus borne: the purple tide
Melanthius from an ample jar supplied;
High canisters of bread Philætius plac'd;
And eager all devour the rich repast.
Dispos'd apart, Ulysses shares the treat!
A trivet-table, and ignobler seat,

The prince appoints; but to his sire assigns
The tasteful inwards, and nectareous wines.
"Partake, my guest," he cry'd, "without control
The social feast, and drain the cheering bowl:
Dread not the railer's laugh, nor ruffian's rage;
No vulgar roof protects thy honour'd age;
This dome a refuge to thy wrongs shall be,
From my great sire too soon devolv'd to me!
Your violence and scorn, ye suitors, cease,
Lest arms avenge the violated peace." [young,
Aw'd by the prince, so haughty, brave, and
Rage gnaw'd the lip, amazement chain'd the

tongue.

"Be patient, peers!" at length Antinous cries;
"The threats of vain imperious youth despise :
Would Jove permit the meditated blow,
That stream of eloquence should cease to flow."
Without reply vouchsaf'd, Antinous ceas'd:
Meanwhile the pomp of festival increas'd:
By heralds rank'd, in marshall'd order move
The city-tribes, to pleas'd Apollo's grove:
Beneath the verdure of which awful shade,
The lunar hecatomb they grateful laid;
Partook the sacred feast, and ritual honours paid.
But the rich banquet in the dome prepar'd,
(An humble side-board set) Ulysses shar'd.
Observant of the prince's high behest,
His menial train attend the stranger-guest:
Whom Pallas with unpardoning fury fir'd,
By lordly pride and keen reproach inspir'd.
A Samian peer, more studious than the rest
Of vice, who teem'd with many a dead-born jest ;
And urg'd, for title to a consort queen,
Unnumber'd acres arable and green

(Ctesippus nam'd); this lord Ulysses ey'd,
And thus burst out th' imposthumate with pride!
"The sentence I propose, ye peers, attend:
Since due regard must wait the prince's friend,
Let each a token of esteem bestow;
This gift acquits the dear respect I owe;
With which he nobly may discharge his seat,
And pay the menials for the master's treat:"

He said: and of the steer before him plac'd,
That sinewy fragment at Ulysses cast,
Where to the pastern-bone, by nerves combin'd,
The well-horn'd foot indissolubly join'd;
Which whizzing high the wall unseemly sign'd.
The chief indignant grins a ghastly smile;
Revenge and scorn within his bosom boil
When thus the prince with pious rage inflam'd:
"Had not th' inglorious wound thy malice aim'd
Fall'n guiltless of the mark, my certain spear
Had made thee buy the brutal triumph dear:
Nor should thy sire, a queen his daughter boast;
The suitor, now, had vanish'd in a ghost:
No more, ye lewd compcers, with lawless power
Invade my dome, my herds and flocks devour :
For genuine worth of age mature to know
My grape shall redden, and my harvest grow.
Or, if each other's wrongs ye still support,
With rapes and riot to prophane my court;
What single arm with numbers can contend?
On me let all your lifted swords descend,
And with my life such vile dishonours end."
A long cessation of discourse ensued,
By gentler Agelaus thus renew'd:

"A just reproof, ye peers! your rage restrain
From the protected guest, and menial train:
And, prince! to stop the source of future ill,
Assent yourself, and gain the royal will,
Whilst hope prevail'd to see your sire restor❜d,
Of right the queen refus'd a second lord.
But who so vain of faith, so blind to fate,
To think he still survives to claim the state?
Now press the sovereign dame with warm desire
To wed, as wealth or worth her choice inspire:
The lord selected to the nuptial joys,

Far hence will lead the long-contested prize;
Whilst in paternal pomp, with plenty bless'd,
You reign, of this imperial dome possess'd."
Sage and serene Telemachus replies:

"

By him at whose behest the thunder flies,
And by the name on Earth I most revere,
By great Ulysses and his woes, I swear,
(Who never must review his dear domain;
Inroll'd, perhaps, in Pluto's dreary train!)
Whene'er her choice the royal dame avows,
My bridal gifts shall load the future spouse:
But from this dome my parent queen to chase!
From me, ye gods! avert such dire disgrace."

But Pallas clouds with intellectual gloom
The suitors' souls, insensate of their doom!.
A mirthful phrenzy seiz'd the fated crowd;
The roofs resound with causeless laughter loud:
Floating in gore, portentous to survey!
In each discolour'd vase the viands lay:
Then down each cheek the tears spontaneous flow,
And sudden sighs precede approaching woe.
In vision rapt; the Hyperesian seer
Uprose, and thus divin'd the vengeance near:
"Oh race to death devote! with Stygian shade
Each destin'd peer impending fates invade :

! Theoclymcuus.

1

With tears your wan distorted cheeks are drown'd;
With sanguine drops the walls are rubied round:
Thick swarms the spacious hall with howling ghosts
To people Orcus and the burning coasts!
Nor gives the Sun his golden orb to roll,
But universal night usurps the pole !"

Yet warn'd in vain, with laughter loud elate
The peers reproach the sure divine of fate;
And thus Eurymachus: "The dotard's mind
To every sense is lost, to reason blind:
Swift from the dome conduct the slave away;
Let him in open air behold the day."

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Tax not" (the Heaven-illumin'd seer rejoin'd) "Of rage, or folly, my prophetic mind. No clouds of errour dim th' ethereal rays, Her equal power each faithful sense obeys. Unguided hence my trembling steps I bend, Far hence, before yon hovering deaths descend; Lest, the ripe harvest of revenge begun, I share the doom ye suitors cannot shun."

This said, to sage Piræus sped the seer, His honour'd host, a welcome inmate there. O'er the protracted feast the suitors sit, And aim to wound the prince with pointless wit; Cries one, with scornful leer and mimic voice, "Thy charity we praise, but not thy choice; Why such profusion of indulgence shown To this poor, timorous, toil-detesting drone? That other feeds on planetary schemes, And pays his host with hideous noon-day dreams. But, prince! for once, at least, believe a friend, To some Sicilian mart these courtiers send, Where, if they yield their freight across the main, Dear sell the slaves! demand no greater gain." Thus jovial they: but nought the prince replies; Full on his sire he roll'd his ardent eyes; Impatient straight to flesh his virgin sword, From the wise chief he waits the deathful word. Nigh in her bright alcove, the pensive queen To see the circlet sate, of all unseen. Sated at length they rise, and bid prepare An eve-repast, with equal cost and care: But vengeful Pallas, with preventing speed, A feast proportion'd to their crimes decreed; A feast of death! the feasters doom'd to bleed!

THE ODYSSEY.

BOOK XXI.

ARGUMENT.

THE BENDING OF ULYSSES'S BOW.

PENELOPE, to put an end to the solicitation of the suitors, proposes to marry the person who shall first bend the bow of Ulysses, and shoot through the ringlets After their attempts have proved ineffectual, Ulysses, taking Eumæus and Philætius apart, discovers himself to them; then returning, desires leave to try his strength at the bow, which, though refused with indignation by the suitors, Penelope and Telemachus cause it to be delivered to his hands. He bends it immediately, and shoots through all the rings. Jupiter in the same instant thunders from Heaven; Ulysses accepts the omen, and

gives a sign to Telemachus, who stands ready armed at his side.

AND Pallas now, to raise the rival fires,
With her own art Penelope inspires:
Who now can bend Ulysses' bow, and wing
The well-aim'd arrow through the distant ring,
Shall end the strife, and win th' imperial dame;
But discord and black death await the game!

The prudent queen the lofty stair ascends,
At distance due a virgin-train attends;

| A brazen key she held, the handle turn'd,
With steel and polish'd elephant adorn'd:
Swift to the inmost room she bent her way,
Where safe repos'd the royal treasures lay;
There shone high-heap'd the labour'd brass and ore,
And there the bow which great Ulysses bore;
And there the quiver, where now guiltless slept
Those winged deaths that many a matron wept.
This gift, long since when Sparta's shores he trod,
On young Ulysses Iphitus bestow'd:
Beneath Orsilochus's roof they met;
One loss was private, one a public debt;
Messena's state from Ithaca detains

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Three hundred sheep, and all the shepherd-swains
And to the youthful prince to urge the laws,
The king and elders trust their common cause.
But Ipbitus, employ'd on other cares,
Search'd the wide country for his wandering mares,
And mules, the strongest of the labouring kind;
Hapless to search! more hapless still to find!
For journeying on to Hercules, at length
That lawless wretch, that man of brutal strength,
Deaf to Heaven's voice, the social rite transgress'd;
And for the beauteous mares destroy'd his guest :'
He gave the bow! and on Ulysses' part
Receiv'd a pointed sword and missile dart:
Of luckless friendship on a foreign shore
Their first, last pledges; for they met no more!
The bow, bequeath'd by this unhappy hand,
Ulysses bore not from his native land;
Nor in the front of battle taught to bend,
But kept, in dear memorial of his friend.

Now gently winding up the fair ascent,
By many an easy step, the matron went;
Then o'er the pavements glides with grace divine,
(With polish'd oak the level pavements shine)
The folding gates a dazzling light display'd,
With pomp of various architrave o'erlaid.
The bolt, obedient to the silken string,
Forsakes the staple as she pulls the ring;
The wards respondent to the key turn round:
The bars fall back, the flying valves resound;
Loud as a bull makes hill and valley ring,
So roar'd the lock when it releas'd the spring.
She moves majestic through the wealthy room,
Where treasur'd garments cast a rich perfume;
There from the column where aloft it hung,
Reach'd, in its splendid case, the bow unstrung;
Across her knees she laid the well-known bow,
And pensive sate, and tears began to flow.
To full satiety of grief she mourns,
Then silent to the joyous hall returns,
To the proud suitors bears in pensive state
Th' unbended bow, and arrows wing'd with fate,

Behind, her train the polish'd coffer brings, Which held th' alternate brass and silver rings, Full in the portal the chaste queen appears, And with her veil conceals the coming tears:

On either side awaits a virgin fair;
While thus the matron, with majestic air:

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Say you, whom these forbidden walls enclose, For whom my victims bleed, my vintage flows; If these neglected, faded charms can move? Or is it but a vain pretence, you love? If I the prize, if me you seek to wife, Hear the conditions, and commence the strife: Who first Ulysses' wondrous bow shall bend, And through twelve ringlets the fleet arrow send, Him will I follow, and forsake my home, For him forsake this lov'd, this wealthy dome, Long, long the scene of all my past delight, And still to last, the vision of my night!"

Graceful she said, and bade Eumæus show The rival peers the ringlets and the bow. From his full eyes the tears unbidden spring, Touch'd at the dear memorials of his king. Philatius too relents, but secret shed The tender drops. Antinous saw, and said: "Hence to your fields, you rustics! hence away, Nor stain with grief the pleasures of the day; Nor to the royal heart recall in vain The sad remembrance of a perish'd man. Enough her precious tears already flowOr share the feast with due respect, or go To weep abroad, and leave us to the bow: No vulgar task! Ill suits this courtly crew That stubborn horn which brave Ulysses drew. I well remember (for I gaz'd him o'er While yet a child) what majesty he bore! And still (all infant as I was) retain The port, the strength, the grandeur of the man." He said, but in his soul fond joys arise, And his proud hopes already win the prize. To speed the flying shaft through every ring, Wretch is not thine! the arrows of the king Shall end those hopes, and fate is on the wing! Then thus Telemachus: "Some god, I find, With pleasing phrenzy has possess'd my mind; When a lov'd mother threatens to depart, Why with this ill-tim'd gladness leaps my heart? Come then, ye suitors! and dispute a prize Richer than all th' Achaian state supplies, Than all proud Argos, or Mycæna knows, Than all our isles or continents enclose: A woman matchless, and almost divine, Fit for the praise of every tongue but mine. No more excuses then, no more delay; Haste to the trial-Lo! I lead the way. I too may try, and if this arm can wing The feather'd arrow through the destin'd ring, Then if no happier knight the conquest boast, I shall not sorrow for a mother lost; But, blest in her, possess these arms alone, Heir of my father's strength, as well as throne." He spoke! then, rising, his broad sword unbound, And cast his purple garment on the ground. A trench he open'd; in a line he plac'd The level axes, and the points made fast (His perfect skill the wondering gazers ey'd, The game as yet unseen, as yet untry'd.) Then, with a manly pace, he took his stand; And grasp'd the bow, and twang'd it in his hand. Three times, with beating heart, he made essay; Three times, unequal to the task, gave way: A modest boldness on his cheek appear'd: And thrice he hop'd, and thrice again he fear'd, The fourth had drawn it. The great sire with joy Beheld, but with a sign forbade the boy.

His ardour straight th' obedient prince suppress'd, And, artful, thus the suitor-train address'd :

"Oh, lay the cause on youth yet immature! (For Heaven forbid such weakness should endure!) How shall this arm, unequal to the bow, Retort an insult, or repel a foe?

But you! whom Heaven with better nerves has blest, Accept the trial, and the prize contest.”

He cast the bow before him, and apart
Against the polish'd quiver propt the dart.
Resuming then his seat, Epitheus' son
The bold Antinous to the rest begun :
"From where the goblet first begins to flow,
From right to left, in order take the bow;
And prove your several strengths."—The princes
heard,

And first Leiodes, blameless priest, appear'd:
The eldest born of ŒEnops' noble race,'
Who next the goblet held his holy place:
He, only he, of all the suitor throng,
Their deeds detested, and abjur'd the wrong.
With tender hands the stubborn horn he strains,
The stubborn horn resisted all his pains!
Already in despair he gives it o'er :

"Take it who will," he cries, "I strive no more.
What numerous deaths attend this fatal bow!
What souls and spirits shall it send below!
Better, indeed, to die, and fairly give
Nature her debt, than disappointed live,
With each new Sun to some new hope a prey,
Yet still tomorrow falser than today.
How long in vain Penelope we sought!
This bow shall ease us of that idle thought,
And send us with some humbler wife to live,
Whom gold shall gain, or destiny shall give."

Thus speaking, on the floor the bow he plac'd, (With rich inlay the various floor was grac'd) At distance far the feather'd shaft he throws, And to the seat returns from whence he rose. To him Antinous thus with fury said: "What words ill-omen'd from thy lips have fled! Thy coward function ever is in fear;

Those arms are dreadful which thou canst not

bear.

Why should this bow be fatal to the brave?
Because the priest is born a peaceful slave.
Mark then what others can."-He ended there,
And bade Melanthius a vast pile prepare;
He gives it instant flame: then fast beside
Spreads o'er an ample board a bullock's hide.
With melted lard they soak the weapon o'er,
Chase every knot, and supple every pore.
Vain all their art, and all their strength as vain ;
The bow inflexible resists their pain.
The force of great Eurymachus alone
And bold Antinous, yet untry'd, unknown:
Those only now remain'd; but those confess'd
Of all the train the mightiest and the best.

Then from the hall, and from the noisy crew,
The masters of the herd and flock withdrew.
The king observes them: he the hall forsakes
And, past the limits of the court, o'ertakes.
Then thus with accent mild Ulysses spoke :
"Ye faithful guardians of the herd and flock!
Shall I the secret of my breast conceal,
Or (as my soul now dictates) shall I tell?
Say, should some favouring god restore again
The lost Ulysses to his native reign?

How beat your hearts? what aid would you afford,
To the proud suitors, or your ancient lord ?”

Philætius thus: "Oh were thy word not vain! Would mighty Jove restore that man again! These aged sinews with new vigour strung In his blest cause should emulate the young." With equal vows Eumæus too implor'd Each power above, with wishes for his lord.

He saw their secret souls, and thus began: "Those vows the gods accord: behold the man! Your own Ulysses! twice ten years detain'd By woes and wanderings from this hapless land: At length he comes: but comes despis'd, unknown,

And finding faithful you, and you alone.

All else have cast him from their very thought,
Ev'n in their wishes, and their prayers forgot!
Hear then, my friends: If Jove this arm succeed,
And give yon impious revellers to bleed,
My care shall be, to bless your future lives
With large possessions, and with faithful wives;
Fast by my palace shall your domes ascend,
And each on young Telemachus attend,
And each be call'd his brother, and my friend.
To give you firmer faith, now trust your eye;
Lo! the broad scar indented on my thigh,
When with Autolycus's sons, of yore,
On Parnass' top I chas'd the tusky boar."
His ragged vest then drawn aside disclos'd
The sign conspicuous, and the scar expos'd :
Eager they view'd, with joy they stood amaz'd;
With tearful eyes o'er all their master gaz'd:
Around his neck their longing arms they cast,
His head, his shoulders, and his knees embrac'd:
Tears follow'd tears; no word was in their power:
In solemn silence fell the kindly shower.
The king too weeps, the king too grasps their hands,
And moveless as a marble fountain stands.

Thus had their joy wept down the setting Sun,
But first the wise man ceas'd, and thus begun :
"Bnough-on other cares your thought employ,
For danger waits on all untimely joy.
Full many foes, and fierce, observe us near:
Some may betray, and yonder walls may hear.
Re-enter then, not all at once, but stay
Some moments you, and let me lead the way.
To me, neglected as I am, I know
The haughty suitors will deny the bow:
But thou, Eumæus, as 'tis borne away,
Thy master's weapon to his hand convey.
At every portal let some matron wait,

And each lock fast the well-compacted gate:
Close let them keep, whate'er invades their ear;
Though arms, or shouts, or dying groans, they hear.
To thy strict charge, Philætius, we consign
The court's main gate: to guard that pass be
thine."

This said, he first return'd: the faithful swains
At distance follow, as their king ordains.
Before the flame Eurymachus now stands,
And turns the bow, and chafes it with his hands:
Still the tough bow unmov'd. The lofty man
Sigh'd from his mighty soul, and thus began:

I mourn the common cause; for, oh, my
friends!

On me, on all, what grief, what shame attends !
Not the lost nuptials can affect me more,
(For Greece has beauteous dames on every shore)
But baffled thus; confess'd so far below
Ulysses' strength, as not to bend his bow!
How shall all ages our attempt deride!
Our weakness scorn!" Antinous thus reply'd:

"Not so, Eurymachus; that no man draws The wondrous bow, attend another cause. Sacred to Phoebus is the solemn day, Which thoughtless we in games would waste away : Till the next dawn this ill-tim'd strife forego, And here leave fix'd the ringlets in a row. Now bid the sewer approach, and let us join In due libations, and in rites divine,

:

So end our night before the day shall spring,
The choicest offerings let Melanthius bring:
Let then to Phœbus' name the fatted thighs
Feed the rich smokes, high curling to the skies.
So shall the patron of these arts bestow
(For his the gift) the skill to bend the bow."

They heard well-pleas'd: the ready heralds bring
The cleansing waters from the limpid spring:
The goblet high with rosy wine they crown'd,
In order circling to the peers around.
That rite complete, uprose the thoughtful man,
And thus his meditated scheme began:

"If what I ask your noble minds approve,
Ye peers and rivals in the royal love!
Chief if it hurt not great Antinous' ear,
(Whose sage decision I with wonder hear)
And if Eurymachus the motion please;
Give Heaven this day, and rest the bow in peace.
Tomorrow let your arms dispute the prize,
And take it he, the favour'd of the skies!
But, since till then this trial you delay,
Trust it one moment to my hands today:
Fain would I prove, before your judging eyes,
What once I was, whom wretched you despise;
If yet this arm its ancient force retain ;
Or if my woes (a long-continued train)
And wants and insults, make me less than man?"
Rage flash'd in lightning from the suitors' eyes,
Yet mix'd with terrour at the bold emprize.
Antinous then: "Oh, miserable guest!
Is common sense quite banish'd from thy breast?
Suffic'd it not within the palace plac'd
To sit distinguish'd, with our presence grac'd,
Admitted here with princes to confer,

A man unknown, a needy wanderer?
To copious wine this insolence we owe,
And much thy betters wine can overthrow :
The great Eurytion when this phrenzy stung,
Pirithous' roofs with frantic riot rung;
Boundless the Centaur rag'd; till one and all
The heroes rose, and dragg'd him from the hall;
His nose they shorten'd, and his ears they slit,
And sent him sober'd home with better wit.
Hence with long war the double race was curs'd,
Fatal to all, but to th' aggressor first.
Such fate I prophesy our guest attends,
If here this interdicted bow he bends:
Nor shall these walls such insolence contain;
The first fair wind transports him o'er the main ;
Where Echetus to death the guilty brings,
(The worst of mortals, ev'n the worst of kings.)
Better than that, if thou approve our cheer;
Cease the mad strife, and share our bounty here."

To this the queen her just dislike express'd: ""Tis impious, prince, to harm the stranger guest,

Base to insult who bears a suppliant's name,
And some respect Telemachus may claim.
What, if th' immortals on the man bestow
Sufficient strength to draw the mighty bow,
Shall I, a queen, by rival chiefs ador'd,
Accept a wandering stranger for my lord?

[bend.

A hope so idle never touch'd his brain:
Then ease your bosoms of a fear so vain.
Far be he banish'd from this stately scene
Who wrongs his princess with a thought so mean."
"Oh fair! and wisest of so fair a kind!"
(Respectful thus Eurymachus rejoin'd)
"Mov'd by no weak surmise, but sense of shame,
We dread the all-arraigning voice of fame;
We dread the censure of the meanest slave,
The weakest woman: all can wrong the brave,
Behold what wretches to the bed pretend
Of that brave chief, whose bow they could not
In came a beggar of the strolling crew,
And did what all those princes could not do.'
Thus will the common voice our deed defame,
And thus posterity upbraid our name."
To whom the queen: " If fame engage your views,
Forbear those acts which infamy pursues;
Wrong and oppression no renown can raise ;
Know, friend! that virtue is the path to praise.
The stature of our guest, his port, his face,
Speak him descended from no vulgar race.
To him the bow, as he desires, convey;
And to his hand if Phoebus give the day,
Hence to reward his merit he shall bear
A two-edg'd falchion and a shining spear,
Embroider'd sandals, a rich cloak and vest,
And safe conveyance to his port of rest."

"O royal mother! ever-honour'd name!
Permit me," (cries Telemachus)" to claim
A son's just right. No Grecian prince but Į
Has power this bow to grant, or to deny.
Of all that Ithaca's rough hills contain,
And all wide Elis' courser-breeding plain;
To me alone my father's arms descend,
And mine alone they are, to give or lend.
Retire, O queen, thy household task resume,
Tend with thy maids the labours of the loom;
The bow, the darts, and arms of chivalry,
These cares to man belong, and most to me."

Mature beyond his years, the queen admir'd
His sage reply, and with her train retir'd :
There, in her chamber as she sate apart,
Revolv'd his words, and plac'd them in her heart.
On her Ulysses then she fix'd her soul,
Down her fair cheek the tears abundant roll,
Till gentle Pallas, piteous of her cries,
In slumber clos'd her silver-streaming eyes.
Now through the press the bow Fumaus bore,
And all was riot, noise, and wild uproar.
"Hold! lawless rustic! whither wilt thou go?
To whom, insensate, dost thou bear the bow?
Exil'd for this to some sequester'd den,
Far from the sweet society of men,
To thy own dogs a prey thou shalt be made;
If Heaven and Phoebus lend the suitors aid."

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Thus they. Aghast he laid the weapon down, But bold Telemachus thus urg'd him on: [words; Proceed, false slave, and slight their empty What! hopes the fool to please so many lords? Young as I am, thy prince's vengeful hand, Stretch'd forth in wrath, shall drive thee from the Oh! could the vigour of this arm as well [land. Th' oppressive suitors from my walls expell! Then what a shoal of lawless men should go To fill with tumult the dark courts below!" The suitors with a scornful smile survey The youth, indulging in the genial day. Eumus, thus encourag'd, hastes to bring The strifeful bow, and gives it to the king.

Old Euryclea calling them aside,
"Hear what Telemachus enjoins," (he cry'd】
At every portal let some matron wait,
And cach lock fast the well compacted gate;
And if unusual sounds invade their ear,
If arms, or shouts, or dying groans, they hear,
Let none to call or issue forth presume,
But close attend the labours of the loom."
Her prompt obedience on his order waits,
Clos'd in an instant were the palace gates.
In the same moment forth Philætius flies,
Secures the court, and with a cable ties
The utmost gate (the cable strongly wrought
Of Byblos' reed, a ship from Egypt brought);
Then unperceiv'd and silent at the board
His seat he takes, his eyes upon his lord.

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And now his well-known bow the master bore, Turn'd on all sides, and view'd it o'er and o'er:" Lest time or worms had done the weapon wrong, Its owner absent and untry'd so long. While some deriding--" How he turns the bow! Some other like it sure the man must know, Or else would copy; or in bows he deals; Perhaps he makes them, or perhaps he steals-" "Heaven to this wretch" (another cry'd,)" be kind} And bless, in all to which he stands inclin'd, With such good fortune as he now shall find."

Heedless he heard them; but disdain'd reply; The bow perusing with exactest eye. Then, as some heavenly minstrel, taught to sing High notes respousive to the trembling string, To some new strain when he adapts the lyre, Or the dumb lute refits with vocal wire, Relaxes, strains, and draws them to and fro; So the great master drew the mighty bow: And drew with ease. One hand aloft display'd The bending horns, and one the string essay'd. From his essaying hand the string let fly Twang'd short and sharp, like the shrill swallow's

cry.

A general horrour ran through all the race,
Sunk was each heart, and pale was every face.
Signs from above ensued: th' unfolding sky
In lightning burst: Jove thunder'd from on high.
Fir'd at the call of Heaven's almighty lord,
He snatch'd the shaft that glitter'd on the board:
(Fast by, the rest lay sleeping in the sheath,
But soon to fly the messengers of death).

Now sitting as he was, the cord he drew,
Through every ringlet levelling his view;
Then notch'd the shaft, releas'd, and gave it wing
The whizzing arrow vanish'd from the string,
Sung on direct, and threaded every ring.
The solid gate its fury scarcely bounds;
Pierc'd through and through, the solid gate re-
sounds.

Then to the prince: "Nor have I wrought thee
Nor err'd this hand unfaithful to its aim; [shame;
Nor prov'd the toil too hard; nor have I lost
That ancient vigour, once my pride and boast.
Ill I deserv'd these haughty peers' disdain;
Now let them comfort their dejected train,
In sweet repast the present hour employ,
Nor wait till evening for the genial joy :
Then to the lute's soft voice prolong the night;
Music, the banquet's most refin'd delight."

He said, then gave a nod; and at the word
Telemachus girds on his shining sword.
Fast by his father's side he takes his stand
The beamy javelin lightens in his hand."

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