many solid thighs Of slaughter’d bulls we burn’d for sacrifice.
The fourth day came, when Tydeus’ son did greet
The haven of Argos with his cómplete fleet.
But I for Pylos straight steer’d on my course;
Nor ever left the wind his foreright force,
Since God fore-sent it first. And thus I came,
Dear son, to Pylos, uninform’d by fame,
Nor know one sav’d by Fate, or overcome.
Whom I have heard of since, set here at home,
As fits, thou shalt be taught, nought left unshown.
The expert spear-men, ev’ry Myrmidon,
Led by the brave heir of the mighty-soul’d
Unpeer’d Achilles, safe of home got hold;
Safe Philoctetes, Pœan’s famous seed;
And safe Idomenæus his men led
To his home, Crete, who fled the arméd field,
Of whom yet none the sea from him withheld.
Atrides, you have both heard, though ye be
His far-off dwellers, what an end had he,
Done by Ægisthus to a bitter death;
Who miserably paid for forcéd breath,
Atrides leaving a good son, that dyed,
In blood of that deceitful parricide,
His wreakful sword. And thou my friend, as he
For this hath his fame, the like spirit in thee
Assume at all parts. Fair and great, I see,
Thou art in all hope, make it good to th’ end,
That after-times as much may thee commend.”
He answer’d: “O thou greatest grace of Greece,
Orestes made that wreak his master-piece,
And him the Greeks will give a master-praise,
Verse finding him to last all after-days.
And would to God the Gods would favour me
With his performance, that my injury,
Done by my mother’s Wooers, being so foul,
I might revenge upon their ev’ry soul;
Who, pressing me with contumelies, dare
Such things as past the pow’r of utt’rance are.
But Heav’n’s great Pow’rs have grac’d my destiny
With no such honour. Both my sire and I
Are born to suffer everlastingly.”
“Because you name those Wooers, friend,” said he,
“Report says, many such, in spite of thee,
Wooing thy mother, in thy house commit
The ills thou nam’st. But say: Proceedeth it
From will in thee to bear so foul a foil?
Or from thy subjects’ hate, that wish thy spoil,
And will not aid thee, since their spirits rely,
Against thy rule, on some grave augury?
What know they, but at length thy father may
Come, and with violence their violence pay;
Or he alone, or all the Greeks with him?
But if Minerva now did so esteem
Thee, as thy father in times past; whom, past
All measure, she with glorious favours grac’t
Amongst the Trojans, where we suffer’d so;
(O! I did never see, in such clear show,
The Gods so grace a man, as she to him,
To all our eyes, appear’d in all her trim)
If so, I say, she would be pleas’d to love,
And that her mind’s care thou so much couldst move,
As did thy father, ev’ry man of these
Would lose in death their seeking marriages.”
“O father,” answer’d he, “you make amaze
Seize me throughout. Beyond the height of phrase
You raise expression; but ’twill never be,
That I shall move in any Deity
So blest an honour. Not by any means,
If Hope should prompt me, or blind Confidence,
(The Gods of Fools) or ev’ry Deity
Should will it; for ’tis past my destiny.”
The burning-eyed Dame answer’d: “What a speech
Hath past the teeth-guard Nature gave to teach
Fit question of thy words before they fly!
God easily can [1] (when to mortal eye
He’s furthest off) a mortal satisfy;
And does the more still. For thy car’d-for sire,
I rather wish, that I might home retire,
After my suff’rance of a world of woes,
Far off, and then my glad eyes might disclose
The day of my return, then straight retire,
And perish standing by my household fire;
As Agamemnon did, that lost his life
By false Ægisthus, and his falser wife.
