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 closed her silver-streaming eyes.
Now through the press the bow Eumaus bore,
And all was riot, noise, and wild uproar.
Hold, lawless rustic! whither wilt thou go?
To whom, insensate, dost thou bear the bow?
Exiled 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.”
Thus they. Aghast he laid the weapon down, But bold Telemachus thus urged him on: "Proceed, false slave, and slight their empty words; 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 land.
Oh! could the vigour of this arm as well
The oppressive suitors from my walls expel!
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.
Eumæus, thus encouraged, hastes to bring
The strife-full bow, and gives it to the king.
Old Euryclea calling then aside,
"Hear what Telemachus enjoins (he cried :)
At every portal let some matron wait,
And each 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;
Closed in an instant were the palace-gates.
In the same moment forth Philoetius flies,
Secures the court, and with a cable ties
The utmost gate (the cable strongly wrought
Of Byblos' reed, à ship from Egypt brought;)
Then unperceived and silent at the board
His seat he takes, his eyes upon his lord.
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 untried 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 cried) be
kind!
And bless, in all to which he stands inclined,
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, responsive 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 horror ran through all the race;
Sunk was each heart, and pale was every face.
Signs from above ensued: the unfolding sky
In lightning burst; Jove thunder'd from on high.
Fired 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 leveling his view;
Then notch'd the shaft, released, 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;
Pierced through and through, the solid gate re-
sounds.
Then to the prince: "Nor have I wrought thee shame;
Nor err'd this hand unfaithful to its aim;
Nor proved the toil too hard; nor have I lost
That ancient vigour, once my pride and boast.
Ill I deserve 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 refined 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.
THE DEATH OF THE SUITORS.
Ulysses begins the slaughter of the suitors by the death of Antinous. He declares himself, and lets fly his arrows at the rest. Telemachus assists, and brings arms for his father, himself, Eunæus, and Philotius. Melanthius does the same for the wooers. Minerva encourages Ulysses in the shape of Mentor. The suitors are all slain, only Mcdon and Phemius are spared. Melanthius and the unfaithful servants are executed. The rest acknowledge their master with all demonstrations of joy.
THEN fierce the hero o'er the threshold strode;
Stript of his rags, he blazed out like a god.
Full in their face the lifted bow he bore,
And quiver'd deaths, a formidable store;
Before his feet the rattling shower he threw,
And thus terrific, to the suitor-crew:
"One venturous game this hand has won to-day;
Another, princes! yet remains to play:
Another mark our arrow must attain.
Phoebus, assist! nor be the labour vain."
Swift as the word the parting arrow sings;
And bears thy fate, Antinous, on its wings.
Wretch that he was, of unprophetic soul !
High in his hands he rear'd the golden bowl;
Even then to drain it lengthen'd out his breath;
Changed to the deep, the bitter draught of death!
For fate who fear'd amidst a feastful band?
And fate to numbers, by a single hand?
Full through his throat Ulysses' weapon past,
And pierced the neck. He falls, and breathes his
The tumbling goblet the wide floor o'erflows,
A stream of gore burst spouting from his nose;
Grim in convulsive agonies he sprawls:
Before him spurn'd, the loaded table falls,
And spreads the pavement with a mingled flood
Of floating meats, and wine, and human blood.
Amazed, confounded, as they saw him fall,
Uprose the throngs tumultuous round the hall:
O'er all the dome they cast a haggard eye:
Each look'd for arms: in vain; no arms were nigh:
"Aim'st thou at princes? (all amazed they said)
Thy last of games unhappy hast thou play'd;
Thy erring shaft has made our bravest bleed,
And death, unlucky guest, attends thy deed.
Vultures shall tear thee."-Thus incensed they
spoke;
While each to chance ascribed the wondrous stroke:
Blind as they were; for death even now invades
His destined prey, and wraps them all in shades.
Then grimly frowning with a dreadful look,
That wither'd all their hearts, Ulysses spoke.
"Dogs! ye have had your day: ye fear'd no
Ulysses vengeful from the Trojan shore;
While to your lust and spoil a guardless prey,
Our house, our wealth, our helpless handmaids, lay:
Not so content, with bolder frenzy fired,
Even to our bed, presumptuous, you aspired:
Laws or divine or human fail'd to move,
Or shame of men, or dread of gods above:
Heedless alike of infamy or praise,
Or fame's eternal voice in future days:
The hour of vengeance, wretches! now is come;
Impending fate is yours, and instant doom."
Thus dreadful he. Confused the suitors stood; From their pale cheeks recedes the flying blood: Trembling they sought their guilty heads to hide; Alone the bold Eurymachus replied:
If, as thy words import, (he thus began) Ulysses lives, and thou the mighty man, Great are thy wrongs, and much hast thou sustain'd In thy spoil'd palace, and exhausted land. The cause and author of those guilty deeds, Lo! at thy feet unjust Antinous bleeds. Not love, but wild ambition, was his guide: To slay thy son, thy kingdoms to divide, These were his aims; but juster Jove denied. Since cold in death the offender lies, Oh spare Thy suppliant people, and receive their prayer! Brass, gold, and treasures, shall the spoil defray: Two hundred oxen every prince shall pay; The waste of years refunded in a day. Till then thy wrath is just."--Ulysses burn'd With high disdain, and sternly thus return'd: "All, all the treasures that enrich'd our throne Before your rapines, join'd with all your own, If offer'd, vainly should for mercy call: 'Tis you that offer, and I scorn them all. Your blood is my demand! your lives the prize, Till pale as yonder wretch each suitor lies. Hence with those coward terms; or fight, or fly, This choice is left ye, to resist or die: And die I trust ye shall."- He sternly spoke: With guilty fears the pale assembly shook. Alone Eurymachus exhorts the train:
"Yon archer, comrades, will not shoot in vain; But from the threshold shall his darts be sped, (Whoe'er he be) till every prince lie dead. Be mindful of yourselves; draw forth your swords, And to his shafts obtend these ample boards, (So need compels.) Then, all united, strive The bold invader from his post to drive;
The city roused shall to our rescue haste,
And this mad archer soon have shot his last."
Swift as he spoke, he drew his traitor sword,
And like a lion rush'd against his lord.
The wary chief the rushing foe repress'd;
Who met the point, and forced it in his breast:
His failing hand deserts the lifted sword,
And prone he falls extended o'er the board!
Before him wide, in mix'd effusion roll
The untasted viands, and the jovial bowl.
Full through his liver pass'd the mortal wound ;
With dying rage his forehead beats the ground;
He spurn'd the seat with fury as he fell,
And the fierce soul to darkness dived, and hell.
Next bold Amphinomus his arms extends
To force the pass: the godlike man defends.
Thy spear, Telemachus! prevents the attack;
The brazen weapon driving through his back,
Thence through his breast its bloody passage tore;
Flat falls he thundering on the marble floor,
And his crush'd forehead marks the stone with
gore.
He left his javelin in the dead, for fear
The long incumbrance of the weighty spear
To the fierce foe advantage might afford,
To rush between and use the shorten'd sword.
With speedy ardour to his sire he flies;
And, "Arm, great Father! arm (in haste he cries;)
Lo hence I run for other arms to wield,
For missile javelins, and for helm and shield :
Fast by our side let either faithful swain
In arms attend us, and their part sustain."
"Haste and return (Ulysses made reply)
While yet the auxiliar shafts this hand supply;
Lest thus alone, encounter'd by an host,
Driven from the gate, the important pass be lost."
With speed Telemachus obeys; and flies
Where piled on heaps the royal armour lies.
Four brazen helmets, eight refulgent spears,
And four broad bucklers, to his sire he bears:
At once in brazen panoply they shone;
At once each servant braced his armour on:
Around their king a faithful guard they stand.
While yet each shaft flew deathful from his hand,
Chief after chief expired at every wound,
And swell'd the bleeding mountain on the ground.
Soon as his store of flying fates was spent,'
Against the wall he set the bow unbent:
And now his shoulders bear the massy shield;
And now his hands two beamy javelins wield:
He frowns beneath his nodding plume, that play'd
O'er the high crest, and cast a dreadful shade.
There stood a window near, whence looking
From o'er the porch, appear'd the subject town.
A double strength of valves secured the place;
A high and narrow, but the only pass:
The cautious king, with all-preventing care,
To guard that outlet, placed Eumæus there:
When Agelaüs thus:
66 Has none the sense
To mount yon window, and alarm from thence
The neighbour town? the town shall force the door,
And this bold archer soon shall shoot no more."
Melanthius then :-"That outlet to the gate
So near adjoins, that one may guard the strait.
But other methods of defence remain;
Myself with arms can furnish all the train;
Stores from the royal magazine I bring,
And their own darts shall pierce the prince and
king."
He said; and mounting up the lofty stairs, Twelve shields, twelve lances, and twelve helmets
All arm, and sudden round the hall appears
A blaze of bucklers, and a wood of spears.
The hero stands oppress'd with mighty woe:
On every side he sees the labour grow:
"Oh curst event! and oh unlook'd-for aid!
Melanthius or the women have betray'd-
Oh my dear son !"- -The father with a sigh:
Then ceased; the filial virtue made reply:
"Falsehood is folly; and 'tis just to own
The fault committed: this was mine alone;
My haste neglected yonder door to bar;
And hence the villain has supplied their war.
Run, good Eumæus, then; and (what before
I thoughtless err'd in) well secure that door:
Learn if by female fraud this deed were done,
Or (as my thought misgives) by Dolius' son."
While yet they spoke, in quest of arms again
To the high chamber stole the faithless swain:
Not unobserved. Eumaus watchful eyed;
And thus address'd Ulysses near his side:
"The miscreant we suspected takes that way;
Him, if this arm be powerful, shall I slay?
Or drive him hither, to receive the meed
From thy own hand, of this detested deed?"
"Not so (replied Ulysses): leave him there.
For us sufficient is another care:
Within the structure of this palace wall
To keep inclosed his masters till they fall.
Go you and seize the felon: backward bind
His arms and legs, and fix a plank behind;
On this, his body by strong cords extend,
And on a column near the roof suspend;
So studied tortures his vile days shall end."
The ready swains obey'd with joyful haste :
Behind the felon unperceived they pass'd,
As round the room in quest of arms he goes,
(The half-shut door conceal'd his lurking foes.)
One hand sustain'd a helm, and one the shield
Which old Laertes wont in youth to wield,
Cover'd with dust, with dryness chapt and worn,
The brass corroded, and the leather torn.
Thus laden, o'er the threshold as he stept,
Fierce on the villain from each side they leapt,
Back by the hair the trembling dastard drew,
And down reluctant on the pavement threw.
Active and pleased, the zealous swains fulfil
At every point their master's rigid will :
First, fast behind, his hands and feet they
bound:
Then straiten'd cords involved his body round;
So drawn aloft, athwart the column tied,
The howling felon swung from side to side.
Eumæus scoffing then with keen disdain :
"There pass thy pleasing night, O gentle swain!
On that soft pillow, from that envied height
First may'st thou see the springing dawn of light;
So timely rise, when morning streaks the east,
To drive thy victims to the suitors' feast.",
This said, they left him tortured as he lay:
Secured the door, and hasty strode away:
Each, breathing death, resumed his dangerous
post
Near great Ulysses; four against an host.
When lo! descending to her hero's aid,
Jove's daughter, Pallas, war's triumphant maid:
In Mentor's friendly form she join'd his side;
Ulysses saw, and thus with transport cried :
"Come, ever welcome, and thy succour lead; Oh every sacred name in one !—my friend! Early we loved, and long our loves have grown : Whate'er through life's whole series I have done Or good or grateful, now to mind recal, And aiding this one hour, repay it all."
Thus he but pleasing hopes his bosom warmı Of Pallas latent in the friendly form. The adverse host the phantom warrior eyed; And first, loud threatening, Agelaus cried :
"Mentor, beware! nor let that tongue persuade Thy frantic arm to lend Ulysses aid: Our force successful shall our threat make good, And with the sire's and son's commix thy blood. What hopest thou here? Thee first the sword shall slay;
Then lop thy whole posterity away:
Far hence thy banish'd consort shall we send; With his, thy forfeit lands and treasures blend : Thus, and thus only, shalt thou join thy friend.” His barbarous insult even the goddess fires; Who thus the warrior to revenge inspires:
"Art thou Ulysses? where then shall we find
The patient body and the constant mind?
That courage, once the Trojans' daily dread,
Known nine long years, and felt by heroes dead?
And where that conduct, which revenged the lust
Of Priam's race, and laid proud Troy in dust?
If this, when Helen was the cause were done,
What for thy country now, thy queen, thy son!
Rise then in combat; at my side attend;
Observe what vigour gratitude can lend,
And foes how weak, opposed against a friend!"
She spoke; but willing longer to survey
The sire and son's great acts, withheld the day;
By farther toils decreed the brave to try,
And level poised the wings of victory:
Then with a change of form eludes their sight,
Perch'd like a swallow on a rafter's height,
And unperceived enjoys the rising fight.
Damastor's son, bold Agelaüs, leads
The guilty war: Eurynomus succeeds;
With these, Pisander, great Polyctor's son,
Sage Polybus, and stern Amphimedon,
With Demoptolemus: these six survive;
The best of all the shafts had left alive.
Amidst the carnage desperate as they stand,
Thus Agelaüs roused the lagging band:
"The hour is come, when yon fierce man no
With bleeding princes shall bestrow the floor:
Lo! Mentor leaves him with an empty boast:
The four remain; but four against a host.
Let each at once discharge the deadly dart ;
One sure of six shall reach Ulysses' heart:
Thus shall one stroke the glory lost regain :
The rest must perish, their great leader slain.”
Then all at once their mingled lances threw !
And thirsty all of one man's blood they flew :
In vain! Minerva turn'd them with her breath,
And scatter'd short, or wide, the points of death;
With deaden'd sound, one on the threshold falls,
One strikes the gate, one rings against the walls;
The storm pass'd innocent. The godlike man
Now loftier trod, and dreadful thus began:
""Tis now (brave friends) our turn, at once to
throw
(So speed them heaven) our javelins at the foe. That impious race to all their past misdeeds Would add our blood. Injustice still proceeds."
He spoke at once their fiery lances flew : Great Demoptolemus, Ulysses slew; Euryades received the prince's dart; The goatherd's quiver'd in Pisander's heart ; Fierce Elatus by thine, Eumæus, falls: Their fall in thunder echoes round the walls. The rest retreat: the victors now advance; Each from the dead resumes his bloody lance. Again the foe discharge the steely shower; Again made frustrate by the virgin-power: Some, turn'd by Pallas, on the threshold fall, Some wound the gate, some ring against the wall: Some weak, or ponderous with the brazen head, Drop harmless on the pavement, sounding dead. Then bold Amphimedon his javelin cast; Thy hand, Telemachus, it lightly razed: And from Ctesippus' arm the spear elanced On good Eumæus' shield and shoulder glanced : Not lessen'd of their force (so slight the wound) Each sung along, and dropp'd upon the ground. Fate doom'd thee next, Eurydamas, to bear Thy death, ennobled by Ulysses' spear. By the bold son Amphimedon was slain; And Polybus renown'd the faithful swain. Pierced through the breast the rude Ctesippus bled, And thus Philatius gloried o'er the dead:
"There end thy pompous vaunts and high disdain, O sharp in scandal, voluble and vain! How weak is mortal pride! to heaven alone The event of actions and our fates are known; Scoffer! behold what gratitude we bear; The victim's heel is answer'd with this spear." Ulysses brandish'd high his vengeful steel, And Damastorides that instant fell:
Fast by, Leocritus expiring lay,
The prince's javelin tore its bloody way
Through all his bowels: down he tumbles prone,
His batter'd front and brains besmear the stone.
Now Pallas shines confess'd: aloft she spreads
The arm of vengeance o'er their guilty heads;
The dreadful ægis blazes in their eye;
Amazed they see, they tremble, and they fly:
Confused, distracted, through the rooms they fling,
Like oxen madden'd by the breeze's sting,
When sultry days, and long, succeed the gentle
spring.
Not half so keen, fierce vultures of the chase
Stoop from the mountains on the feather'd race.
When the wide field extended snares beset,
With conscious dread they shun the quivering net;
No help, no flight; but wounded every way,
Headlong they drop; the fowlers seize the prey.
On all sides thus they double wound on wound;
In prostrate heaps the wretches beat the ground:
Unmanly shrieks precede each dying groan,
And a red deluge floats the reeking stone.
Leiodes first before the victor falls;
The wretched augur thus for mercy calls:
"O, gracious, hear: nor let thy suppliant bleed ;
Still undishonour'd or by word or deed
Thy house, for me, remains; by me repress'd
Full oft was check'd the injustice of the rest:
Averse they heard me when I counsel'd well;
Their hearts were harden'd, and they justly fell.
Oh spare an augur's consecrated head,
Nor add the blameless to the guilty dead."
"Priest as thou art! for that detested band Thy lying prophecies deceived the land! Against Ulysses have thy vows been made: For them, thy daily orisons were paid:
Yet more, even to our bed thy pride aspires:
One common crime one common fate requires.”
Thus speaking, from the ground the sword he
took
Which Agelaüs' dying hand forsook ;
Full through his neck the weighty falchion sped; Along the pavement roll'd the muttering head.
Phemius alone the hand of vengeance spared; Phemius, the sweet, the heaven-instructed bard. Beside the gate the reverend minstrel stands; The lyre, now silent, trembling in his hands: Dubious to supplicate the chief, or fly
To Jove's inviolable altar nigh,
Where oft Laertes holy vows had paid,
And oft Ulysses smoking victims laid.
His honour'd harp with care he first set down,
Between the laver and the silver throne;
Then prostrate, stretch'd before the dreadful man,
Persuasive, thus with accent soft began:
"O king! to mercy be thy soul inclined, And spare the poet's ever-gentle kind.
A deed like this thy future fate would wrong:
For dear to gods and men is sacred song.
Self-taught I sing; by heaven, and heaven alone,
The genuine seeds of poesy are sown;
And (what the gods bestow) the lofty lay,
To gods alone, and godlike worth, we pay.
Save then the poet, and thyself reward;
'Tis thine to merit, mine is to record.
That here I sung, was force and not desire;
This hand reluctant touch'd the warbling wire:
And let thy son attest, nor sordid pay
Nor servile flattery stain'd the moral lay."
The moving words Telemachus attends,
His sire approaches, and the bard defends:
"O mix not, father, with those impious dead
The man divine; forbear that sacred head:
Medon, the herald, too our arms may spare ;
Medon, who made my infancy his care:
If yet he breathes, permit thy son to give
Thus much to gratitude, and bid him live."
Beneath a table, trembling with dismay,
Couch'd close to earth, unhappy Medon lay,
Wrapt in a new-slain ox's ample hide:
Swift at the word he cast his screen aside,
Sprung to the prince, embraced his knee with tears,
And thus with grateful voice address'd his ears:
"O prince! O friend! lo here thy Medon stands; Ah, stop the hero's unresisted hands, Incensed too justly by that impious brood, Whose guilty glories now are set in blood."
To whom Ulysses with a pleasing eye: "Be bold; on friendship and my son rely: Live, an example for the world to read, How much more safe the good than evil deed. Thou, with the heaven-taught bard, in peace resort From blood and carnage to yon open court: Me other work requires :"With timorous awe From the dire scene the exempted two withdraw; Scarce sure of life, look round, and trembling
To the bright altars of protector Jove.
Meanwhile Ulysses search'd the dome, to find If yet there live of all the offending kind. Not one! complete the bloody tale he found; All steep'd in blood, all gasping on the ground. So, when by hollow shores the fisher train Sweep with their arching nets the hoary main, And scarce the meshy toils the copious draught contain,
All naked of their element, and bare,
The fishes pant, and gasp in thinner air;
Wide o'er the sands are spread the stiffening prey,
Till the warm sun exhales their soul away.
And now the king commands his son to call
Old Euryclea to the deathful hall:
The son observant not a moment stays;
The aged governess with speed obeys:
The sounding portals instant they display;
The matron moves, the prince directs the way.
On heaps of death the stern Ulysses stood,
All black with dust, and cover'd thick with blood.
So the grim lion from the slaughter comes:
Dreadful he glares, and terribly he foams;
His breast with marks of carnage painted o'er,
His jaws all dropping with the bull's black gore.
Soon as her eyes the welcome object met,
The guilty fallen, the mighty deed complete,
A scream of joy her feeble voice essay'd:
The hero check'd her, and composedly said:
"Woman, experienced as thou art, control
Indecent joy, and feast thy secret soul.
To insult the dead is cruel and unjust;
Fate, and their crime, have sunk them to the dust.
Nor heeded these the censure of mankind;
The good and bad were equal in their mind.
Justly the price of worthlessness they paid,
And each now wails, an unlamented shade.
But thou sincere! oh Euryclca, say,
What maids dishonour us, and what obey?"
Then she: "In these thy kingly walls remain (My son) full fifty of the handmaid train, Taught by my care to cull the fleece, or weave, And servitude with pleasing tasks deceive: Of these, twice six pursue their wicked way, Nor me, nor chaste Penelope, obey: Nor fits it that Telemachus command (Young as he is) his mother's female band. Hence to the upper chambers let me fly, Where slumbers soft now close the royal eye; There wake her with the news"-The matron cried. "Not so (Ulysses more sedate replied)
Bring first the crew who wrought these guilty
In haste the matron parts: the king proceeds:
"Now to dispose the dead the care remains
To you, my son, and you, my faithful swains:
The offending females to that task we doom,
To wash, to scent, and purify the room.
These (every table cleansed, and every throne,
And all the melancholy labour done)
Drive to yon court, without the palace-wall:
There the revenging sword shall smite them all;
So with the suitors let them mix in dust,
Stretch'd in a long oblivion of their lust."
He said the lamentable train appear:
Each vents a groan, and drops a tender tear;
Each heaved her mournful burthen, and beneath
The porch deposed the ghastly heaps of death.
The chief severe, compelling each to move,
Urged the dire task, imperious, from above.
With thirsty sponge they rub the tables o'er;
(The swains unite their toil) the walls, the floor,
Wash'd with the effusive wave, are purged of
gore.
Once more the palace set in fair array,
To the base court the females take their way; There compass'd close between the dome and wall, (Their life's last scene) they trembling wait their fall.
Then thus the prince: "To these shall we afford
A fate so pure, as by the martial sword?
To these, the nightly prostitutes to shame,
And base revilers of our house and name?"
Thus speaking, on the circling wall he strung
A ship's tough cable, from a column hung;
Near the high top he strain'd it strongly round,
Whence no contending foot could reach the ground.
Their heads above connected in a row,
They beat the air with quivering feet below:
Thus on some tree, hung struggling in the snare,
The doves or thrushes flap their wings in air.
Soon fled the soul impure, and left behind
The empty corse to waver with the wind.
Then forth they led Melanthius, and began
Their bloody work: they lopp'd away the man,
Morsel for dogs! then trimm'd with brazen sheers
The wretch, and shorten'd of his nose and ears;
His hands and feet last felt the cruel steel:
He roar'd, and torments gave his soul to hell.-
They wash, and to Ulysses take their way;
So ends the bloody business of the day.
To Euryclea then address'd the king:
"Bring hither fire, and hither sulphur bring,
To purge the palace: then the queen attend,
And let her with her matron-train descend;
The matron-train with all the virgin band
Assemble here, to learn their lord's command."
Then Euryclea: "Joyful I obey;
But cast those mean dishonest rags away:
Permit me first thy royal robes to bring:
Ill suits this garb the shoulders of a king,"
"Bring sulphur straight and fire" (the monarch
cries ;)
She hears, and at the word obedient flies.
With fire and sulphur, cure of noxious fumes,
He purged the walls and blood-polluted rooms.
Again the matron springs with eager pace,
And spreads her lord's return from place to place.
They hear, rush forth, and instant round him
stand;
A gazing throng, a torch in every hand.
They saw, they knew him, and with fond embrace Each humbly kiss'd his knee, or hand, or face: He knows them all; in all such truth appears, Even he indulges the sweet joy of tears.
Euryclea awakens Penelope with the news of Ulysses' return, and the death of the suitors. Penelope scarcely credits her, but supposes some god has punished them, and descends from her apartment in doubt. At the first interview of Ulysses and Penelope, she is quite unsatisfied. Minerva restores him to the beauty of his youth; but the queen continues incredulous, till by some circumstances she is convinced, and falls into all the transports of passion and tenderness. They recount to each other all that has passed during their long separation. The next morning Ulysses, arming himself and his friends, goes from the city to visit his father.
THEN to the queen, as in repose she lay,
The nurse with eager rapture speeds her way
The transports of her faithful heart supply
A sudden youth, and give her wings to fly.
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