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first my noble 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 Hellas and all Argos flew diffused. And now, my darling son—him storms have snatch’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, godlike 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 worship 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 Gods 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 Ægis-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 spacious hall And gloomy passages 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 bloody 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 Antinoüs 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 shore, 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 ship, 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 noble 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 multitude 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 Pheræ. Shaped like her the dream she sent Into the mansion of the godlike 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 compassionate, began. Sleep’st thou, distress’d Penelope? The Gods, 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 pass, 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 Hellas 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 ship 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. Then answer thus the shadowy form return’d. Take courage; suffer not excessive dread 1000 To overwhelm thee, such a guide he hath And guardian, one whom many wish their friend, And ever at their side, knowing her pow’r, Minerva; she compassionates thy griefs, And I am here her harbinger, who speak As thou hast heard by her own kind command. Then thus Penelope the wise replied. Oh! if thou art a goddess, and hast heard A Goddess’ voice, rehearse to me the lot Of that unhappy one, if yet he live 1010 Spectator of the cheerful beams of day, Or if, already dead, he dwell below. Whom answer’d thus the fleeting shadow vain. I will not now inform thee if thy Lord Live, or live not. Vain words are best unspoken. So saying, her egress swift beside the bolt She made, and melted into air. Upsprang From sleep Icarius’ daughter, and her heart Felt heal’d within her, by that dream distinct Visited in the noiseless night serene. 1020 Meantime the suitors urged their wat’ry way, To instant death devoting in their hearts Telemachus. There is a rocky isle In the mid sea, Samos the rude between And Ithaca, not large, named Asteris. It hath commodious havens, into which A passage clear opens on either side, And there the ambush’d Greeks his coming watch’d.
9 Hesychius tells us, that the Greecians ornamented with much attention the front wall of their courts for the admiration of passengers.
10 Οφθαλμῶν τε βολαι.
11 Antilochus was his brother.
12 The son of Aurora, who slew Antilochus, was Memnon.
13 Because Pisistratus was born after Antilochus had sailed to Troy.
14 Proteus
15 Seals, or sea-calves.
16 From the abruptness of this beginning, Virgil, probably, who has copied the story, took the hint of his admired exordium.
Nam quis te, juvenum confidentissime, nostras.
Egit adire domos.
17 Son of Oïleus.
18 Δαιτυμων—generally signifies the founder of a feast; but we are taught by Eustathius to understand by it, in this place, the persons employed in preparing it.
19 This transition from the third to the second person belongs to the original, and is considered as a fine stroke of art in the poet, who represents Penelope in the warmth of her resentment, forgetting
