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Book IV.

Argument.

THE CONFERENCE WITH MENELAUS.

Telemachus with Pisistratus arriving at Sparta, is hospitably received by Menelaus to whom he relates the cause of his coming, and learns from him many particulars of what befell the Greeks since the destruction of Troy. He dwells more at large upon the prophecies of Proteus to him in his return; from which he acquaints Telemachus that Ulysses is detained in the island of Calypso.

In the meantime the suitors consult to destroy Telemachus on the voyage home. Penelope is apprised of this; but comforted in a dream by Pallas, in the shape of her sister Iphthima.

And now proud Sparta with their wheels resounds,

Sparta whose walls a range of hills surrounds;

At the fair dome the rapid labour ends;

Where sate Atrides ‘midst his bridal friends,

With double vows invoking Hymen’s power,

To bless his son’s and daughter’s nuptial hour.

That day, to great Achilles son resign’d,

Hermione, the fairest of her kind,

Was sent to crown the long-protracted joy,

Espoused before the final doom of Troy;

With steeds and gilded cars, a gorgeous train

Attend the nymphs to Phthia’s distant reign.

Meanwhile at home, to Megapentha’s bed

The virgin choir Alector’s daughter led.

Brave Megapenthas From a stolen amour

To great Atrides’ age his handmaid bore;

To Helen’s bed the gods alone assign

Hermione, to extend the regal line;

On whom a radiant pomp oh Graces wait,

Resembling Venus in attractive state.

While this gay friendly troop the king surround,

With festival and mirth the roofs resound;

A bard amid the joyous circle sings

High airs attemper’d to the vocal strings;

Whilst warbling to the varied strain, advance

Two sprightly youths to form the bounding dance,

’Twas then, that issuing through the palace gate,

The splendid car roll’d slow in regal state:

On the bright eminence young Nestor shone,

And fast beside him great Ulysses’ son;

Grave Eteoneous saw the pomp appear,

And speeding, thus address’d the royal ear;

“Two youths approach, whose semblant features prove

Their blood devolving from the source of Jove

Is due reception deign’d, or must they bend

Their doubtful course to seek a distant friend?”

“Insensate! (with a sigh the king replies,)

Too long, misjudging, have I thought thee wise

But sure relentless folly steals thy breast,

Obdurate to reject the stranger-guest;

To those dear hospitable rites a foe,

Which in my wanderings oft relieved my woe;

Fed by the bounty of another’s board,

Till pitying Jove my native realm restored —

Straight be the coursers from the car released,

Conduct the youths to grace the genial feast.”

The seneschal, rebuked, in haste withdrew;

With equal haste a menial train pursue:

Part led the coursers, from the car enlarged,

Each to a crib with choicest grain surcharged;

Part in a portico, profusely graced

With rich magnificence, the chariot placed;

Then to the dome the friendly pair invite,

Who eye the dazzling roofs with vast delight;

Resplendent as the blaze of summer noon,

Or the pale radiance of the midnight moon.

From room to room their eager view they bend

Thence to the bath, a beauteous pile, descend;

Where a bright damsel train attends the guests

With liquid odours, and embroider’d vests.

Refresh’d, they wait them to the bower of state,

Where, circled with his pears, Atrides sate;

Throned next the king, a fair attendant brings

The purest product of the crystal springs;

High on a massy vase of silver mould,

The burnish’d laver flames with solid gold,

In solid gold the purple vintage flows,

And on the board a second banquet rose.

When thus the king, with hospitable port;

“Accept this welcome to the Spartan court:

The waste of nature let the feast repair,

Then your high lineage and your names declare;

Say from what sceptred ancestry ye claim,

Recorded eminent in deathless fame,

For vulgar parents cannot stamp their race

With signatures of such majestic grace.”

Ceasing, benevolent he straight assigns

The royal portion of the choicest chines

To each accepted friend; with grateful haste

They share the honours of the rich repast.

Sufficed, soft whispering thus to Nestor’s son,

His head reclined, young Ithacus begun:

“View’st thou unmoved, O ever-honour’d most!

These prodigies of art, and wondrous cost!

Above, beneath, around the palace shines

The sunless treasure of exhausted mines;

The spoils of elephants the roofs inlay,

And studded amber darts the golden ray;

Such, and not nobler, in the realms above

My wonder dictates is the dome of Jove.”

The monarch took the word, and grave replied:

“Presumptuous are the vaunts, and vain the pride

Of man, who dares in pomp with Jove contest,

Unchanged, immortal, and supremely blest!

With all my affluence, when my woes are weigh’d,

Envy will own the purchase dearly paid.

For eight slow-circling years, by tempests toss’d,

From Cypress to the far Phoenician coast

(Sidon the capital), I stretch’d my toil

Through regions fatten’d with the flows of Nile.

Next Aethiopia’s utmost bound explore,

And the parch’d borders of the Arabian shore;

Then warp my voyage on the southern gales,

O’er the warm Lybian wave to spread my sails;

That happy clime, where each revolving year

The teeming ewes a triple offspring bear;

And two fair crescents of translucent horn

The brows of all their young increase adorn:

The shepherd swains, with sure abundance blest,

On the fat flock and rural dainties feast;

Nor want of herbage makes the dairy fail,

But every season fills the foaming pail.

Whilst, heaping unwash’d wealth, I distant roam,

The best of brothers, at his natal home,

By the dire fury of a traitress wife,

Ends the sad evening of a stormy life;

Whence, with incessant grief my soul annoy’d,

These riches are possess’d, but not enjoy’d!

My wars, the copious theme of every tongue,

To you your fathers have recorded long.

How favouring Heaven repaid my glorious toils

With a sack’d palace, and barbaric spoils.

Oh! had the gods so large a boon denied

And life, the just equivalent supplied

To those brave warriors, who, with glory fired

Far from their country, in my cause expired!

Still in short intervals of pleasing woe.

Regardful of the friendly dues I owe,

I to the glorious dead, for ever dear!

Indulge the tribute of a grateful tear.

But oh! Ulysses — deeper than the rest

That sad idea wounds my anxious breast!

My heart bleeds fresh with agonizing pain;

The bowl and tasteful viands tempt in vain;

Nor sleep’s soft power can close my streaming eyes,

When imaged to my soul his sorrows rise.

No peril in my cause he ceased to prove,

His labours equall’d only by my love:

And both alike to bitter fortune born,

For him to suffer, and for me to mourn!

Whether he wanders on some friendly coast,

Or glides in Stygian gloom a pensive ghost,

No fame reveals; but, doubtful of his doom,

His good old sire with sorrow to the tomb

Declines his trembling steps; untimely care

Withers the blooming vigour of his heir;

And the chaste partner of his bed and throne

Wastes all her widow’d hours in tender moan.”

While thus pathetic to the prince he spoke,

From the brave youth the streaming passion broke;

Studious to veil the grief, in vain repress’d,

His face he shrouded with his purple vest.

The conscious monarch pierced the coy disguise,

And view’d his filial love with vast surprise:

Dubious to press the tender theme, or wait

To hear the youth inquire his father’s fate.

In this suspense bright Helen graced the room;

Before her breathed a gale of rich perfume.

So moves, adorn’d with each attractive grace,

The silver shafted goddess of the chase!

The seat of majesty Adraste brings,

With art illustrious, for the pomp of kings;

To spread the pall (beneath the regal chair)

Of softest wool, is bright Alcippe’s care.

A silver canister, divinely wrought,

In her soft hands the beauteous Phylo brought;

To Sparta’s queen of old the radiant vase

Alcandra gave, a pledge of royal grace;

For Polybus her lord (whose sovereign sway

The wealthy tribes of Pharian Thebes obey),

When to that court Atrides came, caress’d

With vast munificence the imperial guest:

Two lavers from the richest ore refined,

With silver tripods, the kind host assign’d;

And bounteous from the royal treasure told

Ten equal talents of refulgent gold.

Alcandra, consort of his high command,

A golden distaff gave to Helen’s hand;

And that rich vase, with living sculpture wrought,

Which heap’d with wool the beauteous Phylo brought

The silken fleece, impurpled for the loom,

Rivall’d the hyacinth in vernal bloom.

The sovereign seat then Jove born Helen press’d,

And pleasing thus her sceptred lord address’d:

“Who grace our palace now, that friendly pair,

Speak they their lineage, or their names declare?

Uncertain of the truth, yet uncontroll’d,

Hear me the bodings of my breast unfold.

With wonder wrapp’d on yonder check I trace

The feature of the Ulyssean race:

Diffused o’er each resembling line appear,

In just similitude, the grace and air

Of young Telemachus! the lovely boy,

Who bless’d Ulysses with a father’s joy,

What time the Greeks combined their social arms,

To avenge the stain of my ill-fated charms!”

“Just is thy thought, (the king assenting cries,)

Methinks Ulysses strikes my wondering eyes;

Full shines the father in the filial frame,

His port, his features, and his shape the same;

Such quick regards his sparkling eyes bestow;

Such wavy ringlets o’er his shoulders flow

And when he heard the long disastrous store

Of cares, which in my cause Ulysses bore;

Dismay’d, heart-wounded with paternal woes,

Above restraint the tide of sorrow rose;

Cautious to let the gushing grief appear,

His purple garment veil’d the falling tear.”

“See there confess’d (Pisistratus replies)

The genuine worth of Ithacus the wise!

Of that heroic sire the youth is sprung,

But modest awe hath chain’d his timorous tongue.

Thy voice, O king! with pleased attention heard,

Is like the dictates of a god revered.

With him, at Nestor’s high command, I came,

Whose age I honour with a parent’s name.

By adverse destiny constrained to sue

For counsel and redress, he sues to you

Whatever ill the friendless orphan bears,

Bereaved of parents in his infant years,

Still must the wrong’d Telemachus sustain,

If, hopeful of your aid, he hopes in vain;

Affianced in your friendly power alone,

The youth would vindicate the vacant throne.”

“Is Sparta blest, and these desiring eyes

View my friend’s son? (the king exalting cries;)

Son of my friend, by glorious toils approved,

Whose sword was sacred to the man he loved;

Mirror of constant faith, revered and mourn’d —

When Troy was ruin’d, had the chief return’d,

No Greek an equal space had ere possess’d,

Of dear affection, in my grateful breast.

I, to confirm the mutual joys we shared,

For his abode a capital prepared;

Argos, the seat of sovereign rule, I chose;

Fair in the plan the future palace rose,

Where my Ulysses and his race might reign,

And portion to his tribes the wide domain,

To them my vassals had resign’d a soil,

With teeming plenty to reward their toil.

There with commutual zeal we both had strove

In acts of dear benevolence and love:

Brothers in peace, not rivals in command,

And death alone dissolved the friendly band!

Some envious power the blissful scene destroys;

Vanish’d are all the visionary joys;

The soul of friendship to my hope is lost,

Fated to wander from his natal coast!”

He ceased; a gush of grief began to rise:

Fast streams a tide from beauteous Helen’s eyes;

Fast for the sire the filial sorrows flow;

The weeping monarch swells the mighty woe;

Thy cheeks, Pisistratus, the tears bedew,

While pictured so thy mind appear’d in view,

Thy martial brother; on the Phrygian plain

Extended pale, by swarthy Memnon slain!

But silence soon the son of Nestor broke,

And melting with fraternal pity, spoke:

“Frequent, O king, was Nestor wont to raise

And charm attention with thy copious praise;

To crowd thy various gifts, the sage assign’d

The glory of a firm capacious mind;

With that superior attribute control

This unavailing impotence of soul,

Let not your roof with echoing grief resound,

Now for the feast the friendly bowl is crown’d;

But when, from dewy shade emerging bright,

Aurora streaks the sky with orient light,

Let each deplore his dead; the rites of woe

Are all, alas! the living can bestow;

O’er the congenial dust enjoin’d to shear

The graceful curl, and drop the tender tear.

Then, mingling in the mournful pomp with you,

I’ll pay my brother’s ghost a warrior’s due,

And mourn the brave Antilochus, a name

Not unrecorded in the rolls of fame;

With strength and speed superior form’d, in fight

To face the foe, or intercept his flight;

Too early snatch’d by fate ere known to me!

I boast a witness of his worth in thee.”

“Young and mature! (the monarch thus rejoins,)

In thee renew’d the soul of Nestor shines;

Form’d by the care of that consummate sage,

In early bloom an oracle of age.

Whene’er his influence Jove vouchsafes to shower,

To bless the natal and the nuptial hour;

From the great sire transmissive to the race,

The boon devolving gives distinguish’d grace.

Such, happy Nestor! was thy glorious doom,

Around thee, full of years, thy offspring bloom.

Expert of arms, and prudent in debate;

The gifts of Heaven to guard thy hoary state.

But now let each becalm his troubled breast,

Wash, and partake serene the friendly feast.

To move thy suit, Telemachus, delay,

Till heaven’s revolving lamp restores the day.”

He said, Asphalion swift the laver brings;

Alternate, all partake the grateful springs;

Then from the rites of purity repair,

And with keen gust the savoury viands share.

Meantime, with genial joy to warm the soul,

Bright Helen mix’d a mirth inspiring bowl;

Temper’d with drugs of sovereign use, to assuage

The boiling bosom of tumultuous rage;

To clear the cloudy front of wrinkled Care,

And dry the tearful sluices of Despair;

Charm’d with that virtuous draught, the exalted mind

All sense of woe delivers to the wind.

Though on the blazing pile his parent lay.

Or a loved brother groan’d his life away.

Or darling son, oppress’d by ruffian force,

Fell breathless at his feet, a mangled corse;

From morn to eve, impassive and serene,

The man entranced would view the dreadful scene

These drugs, so friendly to the joys of life.

Bright Helen learn’d from Thone’s imperial wife;

Who sway’d the sceptre, where prolific Nile

With various simples clothes the fatten’d soil.

With wholesome herbage mix’d, the direful bane

Of vegetable venom taints the plain;

From Paeon sprung, their patron-god imparts

To all the Pharian race his healing arts.

The beverage now prepared to inspire the feast,

The circle thus the beauteous queen addressed:

“Throned in omnipotence, supremest Jove

Tempers the fates of human race above;

By the firm sanction of his sovereign will,

Alternate are decreed our good and ill.

To feastful mirth be this white hour assign’d.

And sweet discourse, the banquet of the mind

Myself, assisting in the social joy,

Will tell Ulysses’ bold exploit in Troy,

Sole witness of the deed I now declare

Speak you (who saw) his wonders in the war.

“Seam’d o’er with wounds, which his own sabre gave,

In the vile habit of a village slave,

The foe deceived, he pass’d the tented plain,

In Troy to mingle with the hostile train.

In this attire secure from searching eyes,

Till happily piercing through the dark disguise,

The chief I challenged; he, whose practised wit

Knew all the serpent mazes of deceit,

Eludes my search; but when his form I view’d

Fresh from the bath, with fragrant oils renew’d,

His limbs in military purple dress’d,

Each brightening grace the genuine Greek confess’d.

A previous pledge of sacred faith obtain’d,

Till he the lines and Argive fleet regain’d,

To keep his stay conceal’d; the chief declared

The plans of war against the town prepared.

Exploring then the secrets of the state,

He learn’d what best might urge the Dardan fate;

And, safe returning to the Grecian host,

Sent many a shade to Pluto’s dreary coast.

Loud grief resounded through the towers of Troy,

But my pleased bosom glow’d with secret joy:

For then, with dire remorse and conscious shame

I view’d the effects of that disastrous flame.

Which, kindled by the imperious queen of love,

Constrain’d me from my native realm to rove:

And oft in bitterness of soul deplored

My absent daughter and my dearer lord;

Admired among the first of human race,

For every gift of mind and manly grace.”

“Right well (replied the king) your speech displays

The matchless merit of the chief you praise:

Heroes in various climes myself have found,

For martial deeds and depth of thought renown’d;

But Ithacus, unrivall’d in his claim,

May boast a title to the loudest fame:

In battle calm he guides the rapid storm,

Wise to resolve, and patient to perform.

What wondrous conduct in the chief appear’d,

When the vast fabric of the steed we rear’d!

Some demon, anxious for the Trojan doom,

Urged you with great Deiphobus to come,

To explore the fraud; with guile opposed to guile.

Slow-pacing thrice around the insidious pile,

Each noted leader’s name you thrice invoke,

Your accent varying as their spouses spoke!

The pleasing sounds each latent warrior warm’d,

But most Tydides’ and coy heart alarm’d:

To quit the steed we both impatient press

Threatening to answer from the dark recess.

Unmoved the mind of Ithacus remain’d;

And the vain ardours of our love restrain’d;

But Anticlus, unable to control,

Spoke loud the language of his yearning soul:

Ulysses straight, with indignation fired

(For so the common care of Greece required),

Firm to his lips his forceful hands applied,

Till on his tongue the fluttering murmurs died.

Meantime Minerva, from the fraudful horse,

Back to the court of Priam bent your course.”

“Inclement fate! (Telemachus replies,)

Frail is the boasted attribute of wise:

The leader mingling with the vulgar host,

Is in the common mass of matter lost!

But now let sleep the painful waste repair

Of sad reflection and corroding care.”

He ceased; the menial fair that round her wait,

At Helen’s beck prepare the room of state;

Beneath an ample portico they spread

The downy fleece to form the slumberous bed;

And o’er soft palls of purple grain unfold

Rich tapestry, stiff with interwoven gold:

Then, through the illumined dome, to balmy rest

The obsequious herald guides each princely guest;

While to his regal bower the king ascends,

And beauteous Helen on her lord attends.

Soon as the morn, in orient purple dress’d,

Unbarr’d the portal of the roseate east,

The monarch rose; magnificent to view,

The imperial mantle o’er his vest he threw;

The glittering zone athwart his shoulders cast,

A starry falchion low-depending graced;

Clasp’d on his feet the embroidered sandals shine;

And forth he moves, majestic and divine,

Instant to young Telemachus he press’d;

And thus benevolent his speech addressed:

“Say, royal youth, sincere of soul report

Whit cause hath led you to the Spartan court?

Do public or domestic care constrain

This toilsome voyage o’er the surgy main?”

“O highly-flavour’d delegate of Jove!

(Replies the prince) inflamed with filial love,

And anxious hope, to hear my parent’s doom,

A suppliant to your royal court I come:

Our sovereign seat a lewd usurping race

With lawless riot and misrule disgrace;

To pamper’d insolence devoted fall

Prime of the flock, and choicest of the stall:

For wild ambition wings their bold desire,

And all to mount the imperial bed aspire.

But prostrate I implore, O king! relate

The mournful series of my father’s fate:

Each known disaster of the man disclose,