Part 6 (1/2)

Nor was Penelope left uninformed Long time of their clandestine plottings deep, For herald Medon told her all, whose ear Their councils caught while in the outer-court 820 He stood, and they that project framed within.

Swift to Penelope the tale he bore, Who as he pa.s.s'd the gate, him thus address'd.

For what cause, herald! have the suitors sent Thee foremost? Wou'd they that my maidens lay Their tasks aside, and dress the board for them?

Here end their wooing! may they hence depart Never, and may the banquet now prepared, This banquet prove your last![19] who in such throngs Here meeting, waste the patrimony fair 830 Of brave Telemachus; ye never, sure, When children, heard how gracious and how good Ulysses dwelt among your parents, none Of all his people, or in word or deed Injuring, as great princes oft are wont, By favour influenc'd now, now by disgust.

He no man wrong'd at any time; but plain Your wicked purpose in your deeds appears, Who sense have none of benefits conferr'd.

Then Medon answer'd thus, prudent, return'd. 840 Oh Queen! may the G.o.ds grant this prove the worst.

But greater far and heavier ills than this The suitors plan, whose counsels Jove confound!

Their base desire and purpose are to slay Telemachus on his return; for he, To gather tidings of his Sire is gone To Pylus, or to Sparta's land divine.

He said; and where she stood, her trembling knees Fail'd under her, and all her spirits went.

Speechless she long remain'd, tears filled her eyes, 850 And inarticulate in its pa.s.sage died Her utt'rance, till at last with pain she spake.

Herald! why went my son? he hath no need On board swift s.h.i.+ps to ride, which are to man His steeds that bear him over seas remote.

Went he, that, with himself, his very name Might perish from among mankind for ever?

Then answer, thus, Medon the wise return'd.

I know not whether him some G.o.d impell'd Or his own heart to Pylus, there to hear 860 News of his Sire's return, or by what fate At least he died, if he return no more.

He said, and traversing Ulysses' courts, Departed; she with heart consuming woe O'erwhelm'd, no longer could endure to take Repose on any of her num'rous seats, But on the threshold of her chamber-door Lamenting sat, while all her female train Around her moan'd, the antient and the young, Whom, sobbing, thus Penelope bespake. 870 Hear me, ye maidens! for of women born Coeval with me, none hath e'er received Such plenteous sorrow from the G.o.ds as I, Who first my n.o.ble husband lost, endued With courage lion-like, of all the Greeks The Chief with ev'ry virtue most adorn'd, A prince all-excellent, whose glorious praise Through h.e.l.las and all Argos flew diffused.

And now, my darling son,--him storms have s.n.a.t.c.h'd Far hence inglorious, and I knew it not. 880 Ah treach'rous servants! conscious as ye were Of his design, not one of you the thought Conceived to wake me when he went on board.

For had but the report once reach'd my ear, He either had not gone (how much soe'er He wish'd to leave me) or had left me dead.

But haste ye,--bid my antient servant come, Dolion, whom (when I left my father's house He gave me, and whose office is to attend My num'rous garden-plants) that he may seek 890 At once Laertes, and may tell him all, Who may contrive some remedy, perchance, Or fit expedient, and shall come abroad To weep before the men who wish to slay Even the prince, G.o.dlike Ulysses' son.

Then thus the gentle Euryclea spake, Nurse of Telemachus. Alas! my Queen!

Slay me, or spare, deal with me as thou wilt, I will confess the truth. I knew it all.

I gave him all that he required from me. 900 Both wine and bread, and, at his bidding, swore To tell thee nought in twelve whole days to come, Or till, enquiry made, thou should'st thyself Learn his departure, lest thou should'st impair Thy lovely features with excess of grief.

But lave thyself, and, fresh attired, ascend To thy own chamber, there, with all thy train, To wors.h.i.+p Pallas, who shall save, thenceforth, Thy son from death, what ills soe'er he meet.

Add not fresh sorrows to the present woes 910 Of the old King, for I believe not yet Arcesias' race entirely by the G.o.ds Renounced, but trust that there shall still be found Among them, who shall dwell in royal state, And reap the fruits of fertile fields remote.

So saying, she hush'd her sorrow, and her eyes No longer stream'd. Then, bathed and fresh attired, Penelope ascended with her train The upper palace, and a basket stored With hallow'd cakes off'ring, to Pallas pray'd. 920 Hear matchless daughter of Jove aegis-arm'd!

If ever wise Ulysses offer'd here The thighs of fatted kine or sheep to thee, Now mindful of his piety, preserve His darling son, and frustrate with a frown The cruelty of these imperious guests!

She said, and wept aloud, whose earnest suit Pallas received. And now the s.p.a.cious hall And gloomy pa.s.sages with tumult rang And clamour of that throng, when thus, a youth, 930 Insolent as his fellows, dared to speak.

Much woo'd and long, the Queen at length prepares To chuse another mate,[20] and nought suspects The b.l.o.o.d.y death to which her son is doom'd.

So he; but they, meantime, themselves remain'd Untaught, what course the dread concern elsewhere Had taken, whom Antinous thus address'd.

Sirs! one and all, I counsel you, beware Of such bold boasting unadvised; lest one O'erhearing you, report your words within. 940 No--rather thus, in silence, let us move To an exploit so pleasant to us all.

He said, and twenty chose, the bravest there, With whom he sought the galley on the sh.o.r.e, Which drawing down into the deep, they placed The mast and sails on board, and, sitting, next, Each oar in order to its proper groove, Unfurl'd and spread their canvas to the gale.

Their bold attendants, then, brought them their arms, And soon as in deep water they had moor'd 950 The s.h.i.+p, themselves embarking, supp'd on board, And watch'd impatient for the dusk of eve.

But when Penelope, the palace stairs Remounting, had her upper chamber reach'd, There, unrefresh'd with either food or wine, She lay'd her down, her n.o.ble son the theme Of all her thoughts, whether he should escape His haughty foes, or perish by their hands.

Num'rous as are the lion's thoughts, who sees, Not without fear, a mult.i.tude with toils 960 Encircling him around, such num'rous thoughts Her bosom occupied, till sleep at length Invading her, she sank in soft repose.

Then Pallas, teeming with a new design, Set forth an airy phantom in the form Of fair Iphthima, daughter of the brave Icarius, and Eumelus' wedded wife In Pherae. Shaped like her the dream she sent Into the mansion of the G.o.dlike Chief Ulysses, with kind purpose to abate 970 The sighs and tears of sad Penelope.

Ent'ring the chamber-portal, where the bolt Secured it, at her head the image stood, And thus, in terms compa.s.sionate, began.

Sleep'st thou, distress'd Penelope? The G.o.ds, Happy in everlasting rest themselves, Forbid thy sorrows. Thou shalt yet behold Thy son again, who hath by no offence Incurr'd at any time the wrath of heav'n.

To whom, sweet-slumb'ring in the shadowy gate 980 By which dreams pa.s.s, Penelope replied.

What cause, my sister, brings thee, who art seen Unfrequent here, for that thou dwell'st remote?

And thou enjoin'st me a cessation too From sorrows num'rous, and which, fretting, wear My heart continual; first, my spouse I lost With courage lion-like endow'd, a prince All-excellent, whose never-dying praise Through h.e.l.las and all Argos flew diffused; And now my only son, new to the toils 990 And hazards of the sea, nor less untaught The arts of traffic, in a s.h.i.+p is gone Far hence, for whose dear cause I sorrow more Than for his Sire himself, and even shake With terror, lest he perish by their hands To whom he goes, or in the stormy Deep; For num'rous are his foes, and all intent To slay him, ere he reach his home again.