style="font-size:15px;"> Across the palace to report the newsTo his Lord’s ear, and, standing at his side,
In accents wing’d with haste thus greeted him.
Oh Menelaus! Heav’n descended Chief!
Two guests arrive, both strangers, but the race
Of Jove supreme resembling each in form.
Say, shall we loose, ourselves, their rapid steeds,
Or hence dismiss them to some other host?
But Menelaus, Hero golden-hair’d,
Indignant answer’d him. Boethe’s son! 40
Thou wast not, Eteoneus, heretofore,
A babbler, who now pratest as a child.
We have ourselves arrived indebted much
To hospitality of other men,
If Jove shall, even here, some pause at last
Of woe afford us. Therefore loose, at once,
Their steeds, and introduce them to the feast.
He said, and, issuing, Eteoneus call’d
The brisk attendants to his aid, with whom
He loos’d their foaming coursers from the yoke. 50
Them first they bound to mangers, which with oats
And mingled barley they supplied, then thrust
The chariot sidelong to the splendid wall.9 Themselves he, next, into the royal house Conducted, who survey’d, wond’ring, the abode Of the heav’n-favour’d King; for on all sides As with the splendour of the sun or moon The lofty dome of Menelaus blazed. Satiate, at length, with wonder at that sight, They enter’d each a bath, and by the hands 60 Of maidens laved, and oil’d, and cloath’d again With shaggy mantles and resplendent vests, Sat both enthroned at Menelaus’ side. And now a maiden charged with golden ew’r, And with an argent laver, pouring first Pure water on their hands, supplied them next With a bright table, which the maiden, chief In office, furnish’d plenteously with bread And dainties, remnants of the last regale. Then came the sew’r, who with delicious meats 70 Dish after dish, served them, and placed beside The chargers cups magnificent of gold, When Menelaus grasp’d their hands, and said. Eat and rejoice, and when ye shall have shared Our nuptial banquet, we will then inquire Who are ye both, for, certain, not from those Whose generation perishes are ye, But rather of some race of sceptred Chiefs Heav’n-born; the base have never sons like you. So saying, he from the board lifted his own 80 Distinguish’d portion, and the fatted chine Gave to his guests; the sav’ry viands they With outstretch’d hands assail’d, and when the force No longer now of appetite they felt, Telemachus, inclining close his head To Nestor’s son, lest others should his speech Witness, in whisper’d words him thus address’d. Dearest Pisistratus, observe, my friend! How all the echoing palace with the light Of beaming brass, of gold and amber shines 90 Silver and ivory! for radiance such Th’ interior mansion of Olympian Jove I deem. What wealth, how various, how immense Is here! astonish’d I survey the sight! But Menelaus, golden-hair’d, his speech O’erhearing, thus in accents wing’d replied My children! let no mortal man pretend Comparison with Jove; for Jove’s abode And all his stores are incorruptible. But whether mortal man with me may vie 100 In the display of wealth, or whether not, This know, that after many toils endured, And perilous wand’rings wide, in the eighth year I brought my treasures home. Remote I roved To Cyprus, to Phœnice, to the shores Of Ægypt; Æthiopia’s land I reach’d, Th’ Erembi, the Sidonians, and the coasts Of Lybia, where the lambs their foreheads shew At once with horns defended, soon as yean’d. There, thrice within the year the flocks produce, 110 Nor master, there, nor shepherd ever feels A dearth of cheese, of flesh, or of sweet milk Delicious, drawn from udders never dry. While, thus, commodities on various coasts Gath’ring I roam’d, another, by the arts Of his pernicious spouse aided, of life Bereav’d my brother privily, and when least He fear’d to lose it. Therefore little joy To me results from all that I possess. Your fathers (be those fathers who they may) 120 These things have doubtless told you; for immense Have been my suff’rings, and I have destroy’d A palace well inhabited and stored With precious furniture in ev’ry kind; Such, that I would to heav’n! I own’d at home Though but the third of it, and that the Greeks Who perish’d then, beneath the walls of Troy Far from steed-pastured Argos, still survived. Yet while, sequester’d here, I frequent mourn My slaughter’d friends, by turns I sooth my soul 130 With tears shed for them, and by turns again I cease; for grief soon satiates free indulged. But of them all, although I all bewail, None mourn I so as one, whom calling back To memory, I both sleep and food abhor. For, of Achaia’s sons none ever toiled Strenuous as Ulysses; but his lot Was woe, and unremitting sorrow mine For his long absence, who, if still he live, We know not aught, or be already dead. 140 Him doubtless, old Laertes mourns, and him Discrete Penelope, nor less his son Telemachus, born newly when he sail’d. So saying, he kindled in him strong desire To mourn his father; at his father’s name Fast fell his tears to ground, and with both hands He spread his purple cloak before his eyes; Which Menelaus marking, doubtful sat If he should leave him leisure for his tears, Or question him, and tell him all at large. 150 While thus he doubted, Helen (as it chanced) Leaving her fragrant chamber, came, august As Dian, goddess of the golden bow. Adrasta, for her use, set forth a throne, Alcippe with soft arras cover’d it, And Philo brought her silver basket, gift Of fair Alcandra, wife of Polybus, Whose mansion in Ægyptian Thebes is rich In untold treasure, and who gave, himself, Ten golden talents, and two silver baths 160 To Menelaus, with two splendid tripods Beside the noble gifts which, at the hand Of his illustrious spouse, Helen receiv’d; A golden spindle, and a basket wheel’d, Itself of silver, and its lip of gold. That basket Philo, her own handmaid, placed At beauteous Helen’s side, charged to the brim With slender threads, on which the spindle lay With wool of purple lustre wrapp’d around. Approaching, on her foot-stool’d throne she sat, 170 And, instant, of her royal spouse enquired. Know we, my Menelaus, dear to Jove! These guests of ours, and whence they have arrived? Erroneous I may speak, yet speak I must; In man or woman never have I seen Such likeness to another (wonder-fixt I gaze) as in this stranger to the son Of brave Ulysses, whom that Hero left New-born at home, when (shameless as I was) For my unworthy sake the Greecians sailed 180 To Ilium, with fierce rage of battle fir’d. Then Menelaus, thus, the golden-hair’d. I also such resemblance find in him As thou; such feet, such hands, the cast of eye10 Similar, and the head and flowing locks. And even now, when I Ulysses named, And his great sufferings mention’d, in my cause, The bitter tear dropp’d from his lids, while broad Before his eyes his purple cloak he spread. To whom the son of Nestor thus replied. 190 Atrides! Menelaus! Chief renown’d! He is in truth his son, as thou hast said, But he is modest, and would much himself Condemn, if, at his first arrival here, He should loquacious seem and bold to thee, To whom we listen, captived by thy voice, As if some God had spoken. As for me, Nestor, my father, the Gerenian Chief Bade me conduct him hither, for he wish’d To see thee, promising himself from thee 200 The benefit of some kind word or deed. For, destitute of other aid, he much His father’s tedious absence mourns at home. So fares Telemachus; his father strays Remote, and, in his stead, no friend hath he Who might avert the mischiefs that he feels. To whom the Hero amber-hair’d replied. Ye Gods! the offspring of indeed a friend Hath reach’d my house, of one who hath endured Arduous conflicts num’rous for my sake; 210 And much I purpos’d, had Olympian Jove Vouchsaf’d us prosp’rous passage o’er the Deep, To have receiv’d him with such friendship here
