ARGUMENT.
THE DISCOVERY OF ULYSSES TO TELEMACHUS.
Telemachus arriving at the lodge of Eumaeus, sends him to carry Penelope the news of his return. Minerva appearing to Ulysses, commands him to discover himself to his son. The princes, who had lain in ambush to intercept Telemachus in his way, their project being defeated, return to Ithaca.
Soon as the morning blush'd along the plains, Ulysses, and the monarch of the swains, Awake the sleeping fires, their meals prepare, And forth to pasture send the bristly care. The prince's near approach the dogs descry, And fawning round his feet confess their joy. Their gentle blandishment the king survey'd, Heard his resounding step, and instant said:
"Some well-known friend, Eumaeus, bends this way; His steps I hear; the dogs familiar play."
While yet he spoke, the prince advancing drew Nigh to the lodge, and now appear'd in view. Transported from his seat Eumaeus sprung, Dropp'd the full bowl, and round his bosom hung; Kissing his cheek, his hand, while from his eye The tears rain'd copious in a shower of joy, As some fond sire who ten long winters grieves, From foreign climes an only son receives (Child of his age), with strong paternal joy, Forward he springs, and clasps the favourite boy: So round the youth his arms Eumaeus spread, As if the grave had given him from the dead.
"And is it thou? my ever-dear delight! Oh, art thou come to bless my longing sight? Never, I never hoped to view this day, When o'er the waves you plough'd the desperate way. Enter, my child! Beyond my hopes restored, Oh give these eyes to feast upon their lord. Enter, oh seldom seen! for lawless powers Too much detain thee from these sylvan bowers," The prince replied: "Eumaeus, I obey; To seek thee, friend, I hither took my way. But say, if in the court the queen reside Severely chaste, or if commenced a bride?"
Thus he; and thus the monarch of the swains: "Severely chaste Penelope remains; But, lost to every joy, she wastes the day In tedious cares, and weeps the night away."
He ended, and (receiving as they pass The javelin pointed with a star of brass), They reach'd the dome; the dome with marble shined. His seat Ulysses to the prince resign'd. "Not so (exclaims the prince with decent grace) For me, this house shall find an humbler place: To usurp the honours due to silver hairs And reverend strangers modest youth forbears." Instant the swain the spoils of beasts supplies, And bids the rural throne with osiers rise. There sate the prince: the feast Eumaeus spread, And heap'd the shining canisters with bread. Thick o'er the board the plenteous viands lay, The frugal remnants of the former day. Then in a bowl he tempers generous wines, Around whose verge a mimic ivy twines. And now, the rage of thirst and hunger fled, Thus young Ulysses to Eumaeus said:
"Whence, father, from what shore this stranger, say? What vessel bore him o'er the watery way? To human step our land impervious lies, And round the coast circumfluent oceans rise."
The swain returns: "A tale of sorrows hear: In spacious Crete he drew his natal air; Long doom'd to wander o'er the land and main, For Heaven has wove his thread of life with pain. Half breathless 'scaping to the land he flew From Thesprot mariners, a murderous crew. To thee, my son, the suppliant I resign; I gave him my protection, grant him thine."
"Hard task (he cries) thy virtue gives thy friend, Willing to aid, unable to defend. Can strangers safely in the court reside, 'Midst the swell'd insolence of lust and pride? E'en I unsafe: the queen in doubt to wed, Or pay due honours to the nuptial bed. Perhaps she weds regardless of her fame, Deaf to the mighty Ulyssean name. However, stranger! from our grace receive Such honours as befit a prince to give; Sandals, a sword and robes, respect to prove, And safe to sail with ornaments of love. Till then, thy guest amid the rural train, Far from the court, from danger far, detain. 'Tis mine with food the hungry to supply, And clothe the naked from the inclement sky. Here dwell in safety from the suitors' wrongs, And the rude insults of ungovern'd tongues. For should'st thou suffer, powerless to relieve, I must behold it, and can only grieve. The brave, encompass'd by an hostile train, O'erpower'd by numbers, is but brave in vain."
To whom, while anger in his bosom glows, With warmth replies the man of mighty woes: "Since audience mild is deign'd, permit my tongue At once to pity and resent thy wrong. My heart weeps blood to see a soul so brave Live to base insolence or power a slave, But tell me, dost thou, prince, dost thou behold, And hear their midnight revels uncontroll'd? Say, do thy subjects in bold faction rise, Or priests in fabled oracles advise? Or are thy brothers, who should aid thy power, Turn'd mean deserters in the needful hour? Oh that I were from great Ulysses sprung, Or that these wither'd nerves like thine were strung, Or, heavens! might he return! (and soon appear He shall, I trust; a hero scorns despair:) Might he return, I yield my life a prey To my worst foe, if that avenging day Be not their last: but should I lose my life, Oppress'd by numbers in the glorious strife, I chose the nobler part, and yield my breath, Rather than bear dishonor, worse than death; Than see the hand of violence invade The reverend stranger and the spotless maid; Than see the wealth of kings consumed in waste, The drunkard's revel, and the gluttons' feast."
Thus he, with anger flashing from his eye; Sincere the youthful hero made reply: "Nor leagued in factious arms my subjects rise, Nor priests in fabled oracles advise; Nor are my brothers, who should aid my power, Turn'd mean deserters in the needful hour. Ah me! I boast no brother; heaven's dread King Gives from our stock an only branch to spring: Alone Laertes reign'd Arcesius' heir, Alone Ulysses drew the vital air, And I alone the bed connubial graced, An unbless'd offspring of a sire unbless'd! Each neighbouring realm, conducive to our woe, Sends forth her peers, and every peer a foe: The court proud Samos and Dulichium fills, And lofty Zacinth crown'd with shady hills. E'en Ithaca and all her lords invade The imperial sceptre, and the regal bed: The queen, averse to love, yet awed by power, Seems half to yield, yet flies the bridal hour: Meantime their licence uncontroll'd I bear; E'en now they envy me the vital air: But Heaven will sure revenge, and gods there are.
"But go Eumaeus! to the queen impart Our safe return, and ease a mother's heart. Yet secret go; for numerous are my foes, And here at least I may in peace repose."
To whom the swain: "I hear and I obey: But old Laertes weeps his life away, And deems thee lost: shall I speed employ To bless his age: a messenger of joy? The mournful hour that tore his son away Sent the sad sire in solitude to stray; Yet busied with his slaves, to ease his woe, He dress'd the vine, and bade the garden blow, Nor food nor wine refused; but since the day That you to Pylos plough'd the watery way, Nor wine nor food he tastes; but, sunk in woes, Wild springs the vine, no more the garden blows, Shut from the walks of men, to pleasure lost, Pensive and pale he wanders half a ghost."
"Wretched old man! (with tears the prince returns) Yet cease to go--what man so blest but mourns? Were every wish indulged by favouring skies, This hour should give Ulysses to my eyes. But to the queen with speed dispatchful bear, Our safe return, and back with speed repair; And let some handmaid of her train resort To good Laertes in his rural court."
While yet he spoke, impatient of delay, He braced his sandals on, and strode away: Then from the heavens the martial goddess flies Through the wild fields of air, and cleaves the skies: In form, a virgin in soft beauty's bloom, Skill'd in the illustrious labours of the loom. Alone to Ithaca she stood display'd, But unapparent as a viewless shade Escaped Telemachus (the powers above, Seen or unseen, o'er earth at pleasure move): The dogs intelligent confess'd the tread Of power divine, and howling, trembling, fled. The goddess, beckoning, waves her deathless hands: Dauntless the king before the goddess stands:
"Then why (she said), O favour'd of the skies! Why to thy godlike son this long disguise? Stand forth reveal'd; with him thy cares employ Against thy foes; be valiant and destroy! Lo! I descend in that avenging hour, To combat by thy side, thy guardian power."
She said, and o'er him waves her wand of gold Imperial robes his manly limbs infold; At once with grace divine his frame improves; At once with majesty enlarged he moves: Youth flush'd his reddening cheek, and from his brows A length of hair in sable ringlets flows; His blackening chin receives a deeper shade; Then from his eyes upsprung the warrior-maid.
The hero reascends: the prince o'erawed Scarce lifts his eyes, and bows as to a god, Then with surprise (surprise chastised by fears): "How art thou changed! (he cried)--a god appears! Far other vests thy limbs majestic grace, Far other glories lighten from thy face! If heaven be thy abode, with pious care, Lo! I the ready sacrifice prepare: Lo! gifts of labour'd gold adorn thy shrine, To win thy grace: O save us, power divine!"
"Few are my days (Ulysses made reply), Nor I, alas! descendant of the sky. I am thy father. O my son! my son! That father, for whose sake thy days have run One scene of woe! to endless cares consign'd, And outraged by the wrongs of base mankind."
Then, rushing to his arms, he kiss'd his boy With the strong raptures of a parent's joy. Tears bathe his cheek, and tears the ground bedew: He strain'd him close, as to his breast he grew. "Ah me! (exclaims the prince with fond desire) Thou art not--no, thou canst not be my sire. Heaven such illusion only can impose, By the false joy to aggravate my woes. Who but a god can change the general doom, And give to wither'd age a youthful bloom! Late, worn with years, in weeds obscene you trod; Now, clothed in majesty, you move a god!"
"Forbear (he cried,) for Heaven reserve that name; Give to thy father but a father's claim; Other Ulysses shalt thou never see, I am Ulysses, I, my son, am he. Twice ten sad years o'er earth and ocean toss'd, 'Tis given at length to view my native coast. Pallas, unconquer'd maid, my frame surrounds With grace divine: her power admits no bounds; She o'er my limbs old age and wrinkles shed; Now strong as youth, magnificent I tread. The gods with ease frail man depress or raise, Exalt the lowly, or the proud debase."
He spoke and sate. The prince with transport flew, Hung round his neck, while tears his cheek bedew; Nor less the father pour'd a social flood; They wept abundant, and they wept aloud. As the bold eagle with fierce sorrow stung, Or parent vulture, mourns her ravish'd young; They cry, they scream, their unfledged brood a prey To some rude churl, and borne by stealth away: So they aloud: and tears in tides had run, Their grief unfinish'd with the setting sun; But checking the full torrent in its flow, The prince thus interrupts the solemn woe. "What ship transported thee, O father, say; And what bless'd hands have oar'd thee on the way?"