more

Can furnish these affairs as heretofore." This heat their spleens past measure, blown with fear

Lest his loathed temples would the garland

wear

Of that bow's draught; Antinous using speech

To this sour purpose: "Thou most arrant wretch

Of all guests breathing, in no least degree Graced with a humane soul, it serves not thee

To feast in peace with us, take equal share Of what we reach to, sit, and all things hear

That we speak freely (which no begging guest

Did ever yet) but thou must make request
To mix with us in merit of the Queen.
But wine inflames thee, that hath ever
been

The bane of men whoever yet would take
Th' excess it offers and the mean forsake.
Wine spoil'd the Centaur great Eurytion,
In guest-rites with the mighty-minded son
Of bold Ixion, in his way to war
Against the Lapithes; who, driven as far
As madness with the bold effects of wine,
Did outrage to his kind host, and decline
Other heroes from him feasted there
With so much anger that they left their
cheer,

And dragg'd him forth the fore-court, slit his nose,

Cropp'd both his ears, and, in the ill dispose

His mind then suffer'd, drew the fatal day On his head with his host; for thence the fray

Betwixt the Centaurs and the Lapithes
Had mortal act. But he for his excess
In spoil of wine fared worst himself; as
thou

For thy large cups, if thy arms draw the bow,

My mind foretells shalt fear; for not a

man

Of all our consort, that in wisdom can
Boast any fit share, will take prayers then,
But to Echetus, the most stern of men,
A black sail freight with thee, whose worst
of ill,

Be sure, is past all ransom. Sit then still,

Drink temperately, and never more contend With men your youngers." This the Queen did end

In his free turrets with so proud a strain Of threats and bravings; asking if he thought,

That if the stranger to his arms had brought The stubborn bow down, he should marry her,

And bear her home? And said, himself should err

In no such hope; nor of them all the best That grieved at any good she did her guest Should banquet there; since it in no sort show'd

Noblesse in them, nor paid her what she owed

Her own free rule there. This Eurymachus

Confirm'd and said: "Nor feeds it hope in us,

Icarius' daughter, to solemnize rites

Of nuptials with thee; nor in noblest sights

It can shew comely; but to our respects The rumour both of sexes and of sects Amongst the people, would breed shame and fear,

Lest any worst Greek said: 'See, men that were

Of mean deservings will presume t' aspire To his wife's bed, whom all men did admire

For fame and merit, could not draw his bow,

And yet his wife had foolish pride to woo, When straight an errant beggar comes and draws

The bow with ease, performing all the laws The game beside contain'd;' and this would thus

Prove both indignity and shame to us."

The Queen replied: "The fame of men,

I see,

Bears much price in your great supposed degree;

Yet who can prove amongst the people great,

That of one so esteem'd of them the seat Doth so defame and ruin? And beside, With what right is this guest thus vilified In your high censures, when the man in blood

Is well composed and great, his parents good?*

* Evanys, bene compactus et coagmentatus.

And therefore give the bow to him, to try
His birth and breeding by his chivalry.
If his arms draw it, and that Phoebus
stands

So great a glory to his strength, my hands Shall add this guerdon: Every sort of weed,

A two-edged sword, and lance to keep him freed

From dogs and men hereafter, and dismiss His worth to what place tends that heart of his."

Her son gave answer, that it was a wrong

To his free sway in all things that belong To guard of that house, to demand the bow

Of any wooer, and the use bestow
Upon the stranger: for the bow was his
To give or to withhold; no masteries
Of her proposing giving any power
T impair his right in things for any

wooer,

Or any that rough Ithaca affords,
Any that Elis; of which no man's words
Nor powers should curb him, stood he so
inclined,

To see the bow in absolute gift resign'd
To that his guest to bear and use at will,
And therefore bade his mother keep her
still

Amongst her women at her rock and loom;
Bows were for men; and this bow did be-

come

Past all men's his disposure, since his sire Left it to him, and all the house entire."

She stood dismay'd at this, and in her mind

His wise words laid up, standing so inclined,

As he had will'd, with all her women going Up to her chamber, there her tears bestowing,

As every night she did, on her loved lord, Till sleep and Pallas her fit rest restored.

The bow Eumæus took, and bore away; Which up in tumult, and almost in fray, Put all the wooers, one inquiring thus: "Whither, rogue, abject, wilt thou bear from us

That bow proposed? Lay down, or I protest

Thy dogs shall eat thee, that thou nourishest To guard thy swine; amongst whom, left of all,

Thy life shall leave thee, if the festival,
We now observe to Phoebus, may our zeals
Grace with his aid, and all the Deities'
else."

This threat made good Eumæus yield

the bow

To his late place, not knowing what might grow

From such a multitude. And then fell on Telemachus with threats, and said: "Set

gone

That bow yet further; 'tis no servant's part

To serve too many masters; raise your heart

And bear it off, lest, though your younger, yet

With stones I pelt you to the field with it. If you and I close, I shall prove too strong. I wish as much too hard for all this throng

The Gods would make me, I should quickly send

Some after with just sorrow to their end, They waste my victuals so, and ply my cup,

And do me such shrewd turns still." This

The wooers little knowing, fell to jest,
And said: Past doubt he is a man profest
In bowyers' craft, and sees quite through
the wood;

Or something, certain, to be understood
There is in this his turning of it still:
A cunning rogue he is at any ill."

Then spake another proud one: "Would
to heaven,

I might, at will, get gold till he hath given That bow his draught!" With these sharp jests did these

Delightsome wooers their fatal humours please.

But when the wise Ulysses once had laid His fingers on it, and to proof survey'd The still sound plight it held, as one of skill In song, and of the harp, doth at his will, In tuning of his instrument, extend

A string out with his pin, touch all, and lend

To every well-wreathed string his perfect sound,

Struck all together; with such ease drew round

The King the bow. Then twang'd he up the string,

That as a swallow in the air doth sing With no continued tune, but, pausing still, Twinks out her scatter'd voice in accents shrill ;

So sharp the string sung when he gave it touch,

Once having bent and drawn it. Which so much

Amazed the wooers, that their colours went And came most grievously. And then Jove rent

The air with thunder; which at heart did cheer

The now-enough-sustaining traveller,
That Jove again would his attempt enable.
Then took he into hand, from off the table,
The first drawn arrow; and a number more
Spent shortly on the wooers; but this one
He measured by his arm, as if not known
The length were to him, nock'd it then,
and drew;

And through the axes, at the first hole, flew The steel-charged arrow; which when he had done

He thus bespake the Prince: "You have

not won

Disgrace yet by your guest; for I have strook

The mark I shot at, and no such toil took
In wearying the bow with fat and fire
As did the wooers: yet reserved entire,
Thank Heaven, my strength is, and myself
am tried,

No man to be so basely vilified
As these men pleased to think me. But,
free way

Take that, and all their pleasures; and while day

Holds her torch to you, and the hour of feast

Hath now full date, give banquet, and the rest,

Poem and harp, that grace a well-fill'd board."

This said, he beckon'd to his son; whose sword

He straight girt to him, took to hand his lance,

And complete-arm'd did to his sire advance.

THE ARGUMENT.

THE Wooers in Minerva's sight
Slain by Ulysses; all the light
And lustful housewives by his son
And servants are to slaughter done.

ANOTHER.

Xi. The end of pride,

And lawless lust,
Is wretched tried

With slaughters just.

THE upper rags that wise Ulysses wore Cast off, he rusheth to the great hall door With bow and quiver full of shafts, which down

He pour'd before his feet, and thus made

known

saft

death;

For he had slain a man, whose like did breathe

In no part of the kingdom; and that now He should no more for games strive with his bow,

But vultures eat him there. These threats they spent,

Yet every man believed that stern event Chanced 'gainst the author's will. O fools,

to think

That all their rest had any cup to drink
But what their great Antinous began!

He, frowning, said: "Dogs, see in me the man

Ye all held dead at Troy. My house it is That thus ye spoil, and thus your luxuries File with my women's rapes; in which ye

WOO

The wife of one that lives, and no thought show

Of man's fit fear, or God's, your present fame,

Or any fair sense of your future name;
And, therefore, present and eternal death
Shall end your base life." This made fresh
fears breathe

Their former boldness. Every man had eye
On all the means, and studied ways to fly
So deep deaths imminent. But seeing none,
Eurymachus began with suppliant moan
To move his pity, saying: "If you be
This isle's Ulysses, we must all agree,
In grant of your reproof's integrity,
The Greeks have done you many a wrong
at home,
At field as many.

But of all the sum

Lies here contract in death; for only he
Imposed the whole ill offices that we
Are now made guilty of, and not so much
Sought his endeavours, or in thought did
touch

At any nuptials, but a greater thing
Employ'd his forces; for to be our king
Was his chief object; his sole plot it was
To kill your son, which Jove's hand would
not pass,

Shall shun the death your first hath undergone." This quite Eurymachus, Enforcing all their fears, yet counsell'd thus:

dissolved their knees.

"O friends! This man, now he hath got the bow

And quiver by him, ever will bestow
His most inaccessible hands at us,
And never leave, if we avoid him thus,
Till he hath strew'd the pavement with us
all;

And, therefore, join we swords, and on him fall

With tables forced up, and borne. in opposed

Against his sharp shafts; when, being round enclosed

By all our onsets, we shall either take
His horrid person, or for safety make
His rage retire from out the hall and
gates;

And then, if he escape, we'll make our

That way-laid death's convulsions in his feet;

When from his tender eyes the light did fleet.

Then charged Amphinomus with his drawn blade

The glorious king, in purpose to have made

His feet forsake the house; but his assay The prince prevented, and his lance gave way

Quite through his shoulder, at his back; his breast

The fierce pile letting forth. His ruin prest

Groans from the pavement, which his forehead strook.

Telemachus his long lance then forsook (Left in Amphinomus) and to his sire Made fiery pass, not staying to acquire His lance again, in doubt that, while he drew

The fixed pile, some other might renew Fierce charge upon him, and his unharm'd head

Cleave with his back-drawn sword; for which he fled

Close to his father, bade him arm, and he

Would bring him shield and javelins instantly,

His own head arming, more arms laying by