The war, which lasted for ten years, was followed by ten years of wandering, which included many unfortunate encounters, often instigated by gods angry at the conduct of the war. His subjects presume he is dead, and many potential suitors visit his home to woe his wife Penelope Ashley Crenshaw.
She is a model of fidelity, who believes her husband remains alive. While she tolerates the presence of the unruly suitors during their nightly parties, she has no intention of marrying. Athena Amanda Strenta , the goddess of wisdom, asks Zeus, her father and king of the gods, to intervene and rescue Odysseus. Hermes is a cool cat, also known as the messenger god and sometimes as the trickster god. The audience loved him because he was an early adaptor of the shell phone, and used a skateboard and a bicycle for transportation.
During the long trip, the son has frequent visits from the enchanted Ocean, which supports the voyage with directions and provisions. The searchers encounter many dangers which are re-enactments of those previously experienced by Odysseus. The Cyclops Matt Porter is a one-eyed monster that Telemachus manages to blind with the help of his crew, who had been held prisoners. The royal palace to the queen convey. Or him she blesses in the bridal-day!
Untouched they stood, till, his long labours o'er, The great Ulysses reach'd his native shore. A double strength of bars secured the gates : Fast by the door the wise Euryclea waits: Euryclea, who, great Ops! And watch'd all night, all day a faithful guard.
Blaming the Gods
To whom the prince: "Oh thou, whose guardian care Nursed the most wretched king that breathes the air! Untouched and sacred may these vessels stand.
Till great Ulysses views his native land. And twice ten measures of the choicest flour Prepared, ere yet descends the evening hour; For when the favouring shades of night arise, And peaceful slumbers close my mother's eyes, Me from our coast shall spreading sails convey, To seek Ulysses through the watery way.
And tears ran trickling from her aged eyes. In foreign lands thy father's days decay'd, And foreign lands contain the mighty dead. The watery way ill-fated if thou try. All, all must perish, and by fraud you die! Then stay, my child! Oh, beat those storms, and roll the seas in vain!
But, by the powers that hate the perjured, swear. To keep my voyage from the royal ear. Nor uncompel'd the dangerous truth betray, Till twice six times descends the lamp of day: Lest the sad tale a mother's life impair. And grief destroy what time awhile would spare. The matron, with uplifted eyes. Attests th' all-seeing sovereign of the skies. Then studious she prepares the choicest flour.
The Eighteenth Century: Epic in the Modern World | SpringerLink
The strength of wheat, and wines an ample store ; While to the rival train the prince returns. The martial goddess with impatience burns; Like thee, Telemachus, in voice and size, With speed divine from street to street she flies ; She bids the mariners, prepared, to stand. When night descends, embodied on the strand. Then to Noemon swift she runs, she flies. And asks a bark: the chief a bark supplies. And now, declining, with his sloping wheels, Down sunk the sun behind the western hills. Full in the openings of the spacious main It rides; and now descends the sailor-treiin.
Next, to the court, impatient of delay. With rapid steps the goddess urged her way; There every eye with slumbrous chains she bound. And dash'd the flowing goblet to the ground. Drowsy they rose, with heavy fumes oppress'd, Reel'd from the palace, and retired to rest. Then thus, in Mentor's reverend form array'd. Spoke to Telemachus the martial maid: "Lo! Swift to the shore they move : along the strand The ready vessel rides, the sailors ready stand. He bids them bring their stores; th' attending train Load the tall bark, and launch into the main.
The prince and goddess to the stern ascend; To the strong stroke at one the rowers bend. Full from the west she bids fresh breezes blow; The sable billows foam and roar below. The chief his orders gives: th' obedient band With due observance wait the chief's command: With speed the mast they rear, with speed unbind The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind. High o'er the roaring waves the spreading sails Bow the tall mast, and swell before the gales; The crooked keel the parting surge divides. And to the stern retreating roll the tides.
And now they ship their oars, and crown with wine The holy goblet to the powers divine: Imploring all the gods that reign above. But chief the blue-eyed progeny of Jove. Thus all the night they stem the liquid way, And end their voyage with the morning ray. The Interview of Telemachus and Nestor. Telemachus declares the occasion of his coming-: and Nestor relates what passed in their return from Troy, how their fleets were separated, and he never since heard of Ulysses.
They discourse concerning- the death of Ag-amemnon, the reveng-e of Orestes, and the injuries of the suitors. Nestor advises him to go to Sparta, and inquire farther of Menelafis. The sacrifice ended with the night, Minerva vanishes from them in the form of an eagle. Telemachus is lodged in the palace. The next morning they sacrifice a bullock to Minerva ; and Telemachus proceeds on his journey to Sparta, attended by Pisistratus.
The scene lies on the sea-shore of Pylos. The sacred sun, above the waters raised, Through heaven's eternal, brazen portals blazed; And wide o'er earth diffused his cheering ray, To gods and men to give the golden day. Now on the coast of Pyle the vessel falls Before old Neleus' venerable walls. There, suppliant to the monarch of the flood. At nine green theatres the Pylians stood.
Each held five hundred, a deputed train, At each, nine oxen on the sand lay slain. Full for the port the Ithacensians stand. And furl their sails, and issue on the land. Telemachus already press'd the shore; Not first, the power of wisdom march'd before, And, ere the sacrificing throng he join'd, Admonish'd thus his well-attending mind: "Proceed, my son!
Meet then the senior, far renown'd for sense, With reverend awe, but decent confidence: Urge him with truth to frame his fair repHes; And sure he will: for wisdom never lies. To question wisely men of riper years. Shall rise spontaneous in the needful hour: For nought unprosperous shall thy ways attend. Born with good omens, and with Heaven thy friend. Where sate, encompass'd with his sons, the sire. The youth of Pylos, some on pointed wood Transfix'd the fragments, some prepared the food; In friendly throngs they gather to embrace Their unknown guests, and at the banquet place.
Pisistratus was first to grasp their hands. And spread soft hides upon the yellow sands ; Along the shore th' illustrious pair he led. Where Nestor sate with youthful Thrasymed. And held the golden goblet foaming o'er; Then first approaching to the elder guest. The latent goddess in these words address'd: "Whoe'er thou art, whom fortune brings to keep The rites of Neptune, monarch of the deep.
Thee first it fits, oh stranger! Then give thy friend to shed the sacred wine: Though much thy younger, and his years hke mine, 60 He too, I deem, implores the powers divine: For all mankind alike require their grace. All born to want; a miserable race! Of Ocean's king she then implored the grace: "Oh, thou! Fulfil our wish, and let thy glory shine 70 On Nestor first, and Nestor's royal line; Next grant the Pylian states their just desires, Pleased with their hecatomb's ascending fires; Last, deign Telemachus and me to bless, And crown our voyage with desired success.
Gave to Ulysses' son the rosy wine. Suppliant he pray'd. And now, the victims dress'd. They draw, divide, and celebrate the feast. The banquet done, the narrative old man, 80 Thus mild, the pleasing conference began: "Now, gentle guests! It fits to ask ye, what your native shore. And whence your race? Relate, if business, or the thirst of gain. Engage your journey o'er the pathless main: Where savage pirates seek through seas unknown The lives of others, venturous of their own.
Oh, grace and glory of the Grecian name! From where high Ithaca o'erlooks the floods, Brown with o'er-arching shades and pendant woods. My sire I seek, where'er the voice of fame Has told the glories of his noble name, The great Ulysses ; famed from shore to shore For valour much, for hardy suffering more. Long time with thee before proud Ilion's wall In arms he fought ; with thee beheld her fall.
Of all the chiefs, this hero's fate alone Has Jove reserved, unheard of, and unknown; Whether in fields by hostile fury slain, Or sunk by tempests in the gulfy main? Of this to learn, oppress'd with tender fears, Lo, at thy knee his suppliant son appears. If or thy certain eye, or curious ear. Have learned his fate, the whole dark story clear: And, oh! Prepared I stand: he was but born to try The lot of man; to suffer, and to die.
Search all thy stores of faithful memory: 'Tis sacred truth I ask, and ask of thee. Shall I the long, laborious scene review, And open all the wounds of Greece anew? What toils by sea! In whom stern courage with soft virtue join'd, A faultless body, and a blameless mind; Antilochus What more can I relate? How trace the tedious series of our fate? Nine painful years on that detested shore, What stratagems we form'd, what toils we bore! Still labouring on, till scarce at last we found Great Jove propitious, and our conquest crown'd. Far o'er the rest thy mighty father shined.
In wit, in prudence, and in force of mind. With joy I grasp thee, and with love admire. So like your voices, and your words so wise. Who finds thee younger must consult his eyes. But when by wisdom won proud Ilion burn'd, And in their ships the conquering Greeks return'd, 'Twas God's high will the victors to divide. And turn th' event, confounding human pride: Some he destroy'd, some scatter'd as the dust, Not all were prudent, and not all were just. Then Discord, sent by Pallas from above, Stern daughter of the great avenger, Jove, The brother-kings inspired with fell debate; Who call'd to council all th' Achaian state; But call'd untimely not the sacred rite Observed, nor heedful of the setting light, Nor herald sworn the session to proclaim.
Sour with debauch, a reeling tribe they came. To these the cause of meeting they explain. Oh, blind to fate! The gods not lightly change their love or hate. With ireful taunts each other they oppose. Till in loud tumult all the Greeks arose. We, with the rising morn, our ships unmoor 'd. And brought our captives and our stores aboard ; But half the people with respect obey'd The king of men, and at his bidding staid.
Now on the wings of winds our course we keep For God had smooth'd the waters of the deep ; For Tenedos we spread our eager oars. There land, and pay due victims to the powers. To bless our safe return, we join in prayer; But angry Jove dispersed our vows in air. And raised new discord. Then so Heaven decreed Ulysses first and Nestor disagreed: Wise as he was, by various counsels sway'd. He there, though late, to please the monarch, staid.
But I, determined, stem the foamy floods, Warn'd of the coming fury of the gods. And Menelaiis came, but came the last. He join'd our vessels in the Lesbian bay. While yet we doubted of our watery way; If to the right to urge the pilot's toil, The safer road, beside the Psyrian isle : Or the straight course to rocky Chios plough. And anchor under Mimas' shaggy brow?
We sought direction of the power divine: The god propitious gave the guiding sign; Through the mild seas he bid our navy steer, And in Euboea shun the woes we fear. The whistling winds already waked the sky; Before the whistling winds the vessels fly, With rapid swiftness cut the liquid way, And reach Gerestus at the point of day. There hecatombs of bulls, to Neptune slain, High-flaming please the monarch of the main.
The fourth day shone, when, all their labours o'er, Tydides' vessels touch'd the wish'd-for shore.
Homer’s Iliad in Popular Culture: The Roads to Troy
Yet what I learn'd, attend ; as here I sate, And ask'd each voyager each hero's fate; Curious to know, and willing to relate : Safe reach'd the Myrmidons their native land. Beneath Achilles' warHke son's command. Those, whom the heir of great Apollo's art, Brave Philoctetes, taught to wing the dart; And those whom Idomen from Ilion's plain Had led, securely cross'd the dreadful main.
How Agamemnon touch'd his Argive coast. And how his life by fraud and force he lost, And how the murderer paid his forfeit breath. What lands so distant from that scene of death But trembling heard the fame? Ev'n to th' unhappy, that unjustly bleed, Heaven gives posterity, t' avenge the deed. So fell iEgysthus; and may'st thou, my friend, On whom the virtues of thy sire descend, Make future times thy equal act adore. And be what brave Orestes was before! Just was the vengeance, and to latest days Shall long posterity resound the praise. Some god this arm with equal prowess bless!
But Heaven denies this honour to my hand. Nor shall my father repossess the land: The father's fortune never to return. And the sad son's to suffer and to mourn. That crowds of rivals, for thy mother's charms, Thy palace fill with insults and alarms? Say, is the fault, through tame submission, thine? Or, leagued against thee, do thy people join. Moved by some oracle, or voice divine?
And yet who knows, but ripening lies in fate An hour of vengeance for th' afflicted state ; When great Ulysses shall suppress these harms, Ulysses singly, or all Greece in arms. But if Athena, war's triumphant maid. The happy son will, as the father, aid, Whose fame and safety was her constant care In every danger and in every war: Never on man did heavenly favour shine With rays so strong, distinguish'd, and divine, As those with which Minerva mark'd thy sire, So might she love thee, so thy soul inspire! Soon should their hopes in humble dust be laid, And long oblivion of the bridal-bed.
Fortune or fate would cross the will of Heaven. Happier his lot, who, many sorrows past. Than who, too speedy, hastes to end his Hfe By some stern ruifian, or adulterous wife. Death only is the lot which none can miss, And all is possible to Heaven, but this. The best, the dearest favourite of the sky Must taste that cup, for man is born to die. Already snatch'd by fate, and the black doom of death! Oh, son of Neleus! Lived Menelaiis not in Greece?
Condemn'd perhaps some foreign shore to tread; Or sure iEgysthus had not dared the deed. Attend though partly thou hast guess'd the truth. For had the martial Menelaiis found The ruffian breathing yet on Argive ground. Nor earth had hid his carcase from the skies, Nor Grecian virgins shriek'd his obsequies; But fowls obscene dismember'd his remains.
And dogs had torn him on the naked plains. While us the works of bloody Mars employ'd. The wanton youth inglorious peace enjoy'd; He, stretch'd at ease in Argos' calm recess, Whose stately steeds luxuriant pastures bless, With flattery's insinuating art Sooth'd the frail queen, and poison'd all her heart.
True to his charge, the bard preserved her long In honour's limits; such the power of song. But when the gods these objects of their hate Dragg'd to destruction by the links of fate; The bard they banish'd from his native soil, And left all helpless in a desert isle: There he, the sweetest of the sacred train. Sung, dying, to the rocks; but sung in vain. Then virtue was no more ; her guard away, She fell, to lust a voluntary prey.
Ev'n to the temple stalk'd th' adulterous spouse. With impious thanks, and mockery of vows. With images, with garments, and with gold ; And odorous fumes from loaded altars roll'd. Meantime, from flaming Troy we cut the way, With Menelaiis, through the curling sea. But when to Sunium's sacred point we came, Crown'd with the temple of th' Athenian dame; Atrides' pilot, Phrontes, there expired: Phrontes, of all the sons of men admired To steer the bounding bark with steady toil.
When the storm thickens, and the billows boil; While yet he exercised the steersman's art, Apollo touch'd him with his gentle dart; Ev'n with the rudder in his hand, he fell ; To pay whose honours to the shades of hell, We check'd our haste, by pious office bound, And laid our old companion in the ground. And the winds whistle, and the surges roll Mountains on mountains, and obscure the pole. The tempest scatters, and divides our fleet; Part, the storm urges on the coast of Crete, Where, winding round the rich Cydonian plain, The streams of Jardan issue to the main.
There stands a rock, high, eminent, and steep, Whose shaggy brow o'erhangs the shady deep, And views Gortyna on the western side; On this rough Auster drove th' impetuous tide ; With broken force the billows roU'd away, And heaved the fleet into the neighbouring bay. There wander'd Menelaus through foreign shores, Amassing gold, and gathering naval stores ; While cursed JEgysthus the detested deed By fraud fulfill'd, and his great brother bled.
Seven years, the traitor rich Mycenae sway'd, And his stern rule the groaning land obey'd ; The eighth, from Athens to his realm restored, Orestes brandish'd the revenging sword. Slew the dire pair, and gave to funeral flame The vile assassin and adulterous dame. That day, ere yet the bloody triumphs cease, Return'd Atrides to the coast of Greece, And safe to Argos' port his navy brought. With gifts of price and ponderous treasure fraught. Hence warn'd, my son, beware! From thy vain journey, to a rifled isle. Howe'er, my friend, indulge one labour more.
And seek Atrides on the Spartan shore. Which scarce the sea-fowl in a year o'erfly: Go, then; to Sparta take the watery way. Thy ship and sailors but for orders stay; Or, if by land thou choose thy course to bend, My steeds, my chariots, and my sons, attend: Thee to Atrides they shall safe convey. Guides of thy road, companions of thy way. Urge him with truth to frame his free replies, And sure he will: for Menelaus is wise. And twilight gray her evening shade extends. Then thus the blue-eyed maid: "Oh, full of days!
Wise are thy words, and just are all thy ways. Now immolate the tongues, and mix the wine. Sacred to Neptune and the powers divine. The lamp of day is quench'd beneath the deep. And soft approach the balmy hours of sleep: Nor fits it to prolong the heavenly feast, Timeless, indecent, but retire to rest. The sober train attended and obey'd. The sacred heralds on their hands around Pour'd the full urns; the youths the goblets crown'd: From bowl to bowl the holy beverage flows ; While to the final sacrifice they rose.
The tongues they cast upon the fragrant flame, And pour, above, the consecrated stream. And now, their thirst by copious draughts allay'd, The youthful hero and th' Athenian maid Propose departure from the finish'd rite. And in their hollow bark to pass the night: But this the hospitable sage denied. Me, as some needy peasant, would you leave, Whom Heaven denies the blessing to relieve?
Me would you leave, who boast imperial sway, When beds of royal state invite your stay? Be the kind dictates of thy heart obey'd. And let thy words Telemachus persuade: He to thy palace shall thy steps pursue; I to the ships, to give the orders due, Prescribe directions, and confirm the crew. For I alone sustain their naval cares. Who boast experience from these silver hairs; All youths the rest, whom to this journey move Like years, like tempers, and their prince's love. There in the vessel shall I pass the night; And soon as morning paints the fields of light, I go to challenge from the Caucon's bold, A debt, contracted in the days of old.
But this thy guest, received with friendly care, Let thy strong coursers swift to Sparta bear: Prepare thy chariot at the dawn of day. And be thy son companion of his way. Vision divine! But chief the reverend sage admired; he took The hand of young Telemachus, and spoke: "Oh, happy youth! Whose early years for future worth engage, No vulgar manhood, no ignoble age.
Translated by Butcher and Lang
So guide me, goddess! A yearling bullock to thy name shall smoke, Untamed, unconscious of the galling yoke, With ample forehead, and yet tender horns, Whose budding honours ductile gold adorns. Then, slowly rising, o'er the sandy space Precedes the father, follow'd by his race, A long procession, timely marching home In comely order to the regal dome. There, when arrived, on thrones around him placed. His sons and grandsons the wide circle graced. To Pallas high the foaming bowl he crown'd, And sprinkled large libations on the ground. Each drinks a full oblivion of his cares, And to the gifts of balmy sleep repairs.
Deep in a rich alcove the prince was laid, And slept beneath the pompous colonnade: Fast by his side Pisistratus lay spread, In age his equal, on a splendid bed: But in an inner court, securely closed, The reverend Nestor and his queen reposed. When now Aurora, daughter of the dawn. But he descending to th' infernal shade, Sage Nestor fill'd it, and the sceptre sway'd. His sons around him mild obeisance pay, And duteous take the orders of the day.
First Echephron and Stratius quit their bed ; Then Perseus, Aretus, and Thrasymed; Tlie last Pisistratus arose from rest: They came, and near him placed the stranger-guest. To these the senior thus declared his will: "My sons! To Pallas, first of gods, prepare the feast. Who graced our rites, a more than mortal guest.
Let one, dispatchful, bid some swain to lead A well-fed bullock from the grassy mead ; One seek the harbour, where the vessels moor, And bring thy friends, Telemachus, ashore: Leave only two the galley to attend ; Another to Laerceus must we send. Artist divine, whose skilful hands infold The victim's horn with circumfusile gold. The rest may here the pious duty share. And bid the handmaids for the feast prepare. Nor was Minerva absent from the rite, She view'd her honours, and enjoy'd the sight. With reverend hand the king presents the gold, Which round th' intorted horns the gilder roll'd, So wrought, as Pallas might with pride behold.
Young Aretus from forth his bridal-bower Brought the full laver o'er their hands to pour, And canister's of consecrated flour. The king himself initiates to the power; Scatters with quivering hand the sacred flour, And the stream sprinkles: from the curling brows The hair collected in the fire he throws. Soon as due vows on every part were paid, And sacred wheat upon the victim laid, Strong Thrasymed discharged the speeding blow Full on his neck, and cut the nerves in two.
Down sunk the heavy beast ; the females round, Maids, wives, and matrons, mix a shrilling sound. Nor scorn'd the queen the holy choir to join; The first-born she, of old Clymenus' line; In youth by Nestor loved, of spotless fame, And loved in age, Eurydice her name. From earth they rear him, struggling now with death; And Nestor's youngest stops the vents of breath.
The soul for ever flies: on all sides round Streams the black blood, and smokes upon the ground. The beast they then divide, and disunite The ribs and limbs, observant of the rite: On these, in double cawls involved with art, The choicest morsels lay from every part. The sacred sage before his altar stands. Turns the burnt-oflering with his holy hands. And pours the wine, and bids the flames aspire; The youth with instruments surround the fire. The thighs now sacrificed, and entiails dress'd, Th' assistants part, transfix, and broil the rest.
While these officious tend the I'ites divine, The last fair branch of the Nestorian line, Sweet Polycaste, took the pleasing toil To bathe the prince, and pour the fragrant oil. O'er his fair limbs a flowery vest he threw, And issued, like a god, to mortal view. His former seat beside the king he found His people's father, with his peers around ; All placed at ease the holy banquet join, GOO And in the dazzling goblet laughs the wine.
The rage of thirst and hunger now suppressed. The monarch turns him to his royal guest; And for the promised journey bids prepare The smooth-hair'd horses and the rapid car. Observant of his word, the word scarce spoke, The sons obey, and join them to the yoke. Then bread and wine a ready handmaid brings. And presents, such as suit the state of kings. The glittering seat Telemachus ascends; His faithful guide Pisistratus attends; With hasty hand the ruling reins he drew: He lash'd the coursers, and the coursers flew.
Beneath the bounding yoke alike they held Their equal pace, and smoked along the field. The towers of Pylos sink, its views decay. Fields after fields fly back till close of day: Then sunk the sun, and darkened all the way.
To Pherae now, Diocleus' stately seat, Of Alpheus' race, the weary youths retreat. But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn, With rosy lustre purpled o'er the lawn, Again they mount, their journey to renew, And from the sounding portico they flew. Along the waving fields their way they hold.
The fields receding as their chariot roll'd: Then slowly sunk the ruddy globe of light, And o'er the shaded landscape rush'd the night. The Conference of Telemachus with Menelaus. He dwells 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 mean time, the suitors consult to destroy Telemachus in his voyage home. 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; 10 With steeds and gilded cars, a gorgeous train Attend the nymph to Phthia's distant reign.
Meanwhile, at home, to Megapenthes' bed The virgin-choir Alector's daughter led. A bard amid the joyous circle sings High airs, attemper'd to the vocal strings: While, warbling to the varied strain, advance Two sprightly youths to form the bounding dance. Is due reception deign'd, or must they bend Their doubtful course to seek a distant friend? Till pitying Jove my native realm restored.
Straight be the coursers from the car released. Conduct the youth to grace the genial feast. 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. And on the board a second banquet rose.
When thus the king with hospitable port: "Accept this welcome to the Spartan court; 70 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. These prodigies of art, and wondrous cost! Above, beneath, around the palace shines The sumless treasure of exhausted mines; The spoils of elephants the roofs inlay, And studded amber darts a golden ray: Such, and not nobler, in the realms above.
My wonder dictates, is the dome of Jove. 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. Sidon the capital , I stretch'd my toil Throurrh renrions fatten'd with the flows of Nile. And the parch'd borders of th' Arabian shore: Then warp my voyage on the southern gales, O'er the warm Libyan wave to spread my sails: That happy clime! While, heaping unwish'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.
Far from their country, in my cause expired 1 Still in short intervals of pleasing wo. Regardless of the friendly dues I owe, I to the glorious dead, for ever dear 1 Indulge the tribute of a grateful tear. 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. 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. 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. 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. And bounteous from the royal treasure told Ten equal talents of refulgent gold. Alcandra, consort of his high connmand, 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, Rivals 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 4. Hear me the bodings of my breast unfold. With wonder wrapt, on yonder cheek 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! Who bless'd Ulysses with a father's joy, What time the Greeks combined their social arms, T' avenge the stain of my ill-fated charms!
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. With him at Nestor's high command I came. Whose age I honour with a parent's name. By adverse destiny constrain'd to sue For counsel and redress, he sues to you. Pope, The Rape of the Lock , ed.
Geof frey Tillotson London: Routledge, ; references are to canto and line numbers. Howard D. Lewis M. Henry Fielding, Preface, Joseph Andrews , ed. Brissenden London: Penguin, Lennard J. Watts, Knapp , ed. Fielding, Tom Jones , ed. See G. Hegel, Aesthetics: Lectures on Fine Arts , trans. Knox ; Oxford: Clarendon Press, , 2 vols, esp.
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