Homer's Odysses. Translated according to ye Greeke by. Geo: Chapman

T He Man (O Muse) informe, that many a way,

Wound with his wisedome to his wished stay.

That wanderd wondrous farre, [^DLPS3] when, He, the towne

Of sacred Troy, had sackt, and shiuerd downe.

The cities of a world of nations,

With all their manners, mindes, and fashions

He saw and knew. At Sea felt many woes;

Much care sustaind, to saue from ouerthrowes

Himselfe, and friends, in their retreate for home.

But so, their fates, he could not ouercome,

Though much he thirsted it. O men vnwise,

They perisht by their owne impieties,

That in their hungers rapine would not shunne

The Oxen of the loftie-going Sunne:

Who therefore from their eyes, the day bereft

Of safe returne. These acts in some part left,

Tell vs, as others, deified seed of Ioue.

Now all the rest that austere Death out-stroue

At Troys long siege, at home safe anchor’d are,

Free from the malice both of sea and warre;

Onely Vlysses is denide accesse

To wife and home. The Grace of Goddesses

The reuerend Nymph C • lypso did detaine

Him in her Ca • es: past all the race of men,

Enflam’d to make him her lou’d Lord and Spouse.

And when the Gods had destin’d that his house,

Which Ithaca on her rough bosome beares,

(The point of time wrought out by ambient yeares)

Should be his hauen; Contention still extends

Her enuie to him, euen amongst his friends.

All Gods tooke pitie on him: onely he

That girds Earth in the cincture of the sea,

Diuine Vlysses euer did enuie,

And made the fixt port of his birth to flie.

But he himselfe solemniz’d a retreate

To th’Aethiops, [^DLPS4] farre dissunderd in their seate;

(In two parts parted; at the Sunnes descent,

And vnderneath his golden Orient,

The first and last of men) t’enioy their feast

Of buls and lambes, [^DLPS5] in Hecatombs addrest:

At which he sat, giuen ouer to Delight.

The other Gods, in heauens supreamest height

Were all in Councell met: To whom began

The mightie Father, both of God and man,

Discourse, inducing matter, that inclin’d

To wise Vlysses; calling to his mind

[^DLPS6] Faultfull Aegisthus, who to death was done,

By yong Orestes, Agamemnons sonne.

His memorie to the Immortals then,

Mou’d Ioue thus deeply: O how falsly, men

Accuse vs Gods, as authors of their ill,

When, by the bane their owne bad liues instill,

They suffer all the miseries of their states,

Past our inflictions, and beyond their fates.

As now Aegisthus, past his fate, did wed

The wife of Agamemnon; and (in dread

To suffer death himselfe) to shunne his ill,

Incurr’d it by the loose bent of his will,

In slaughtering Atrides in retreate.

Which, we foretold him, would so hardly set

To his murtherous purpose; sending Mercurie

(That slaughterd Argus) our considerate spie,

To giue him this charge: Do not wed his wife,

Nor murther him; for thou shalt buy his life,

With ransome of thine owne; imposde on thee

By his Orestes; when, in him shall be

Atrides selfe renewd; and but the prime

Of youths spring put abroad; in thirst to clime

His haughtie Fathers throne, by his high acts.

These words of Hermes, wrought not into facts

Aegisthus powres; good counsell he despisde,

And to that Good, his ill is sacrifisde.

Pall • s (whose eyes did sparkle like the skies)

Answerd: [^DLPS7] O Sire! supreame of Deities;

Aegisthus past his Fate, and had desert

To warrant our infliction; and conuert

May all the paines, such impious men inflict

On innocent sufferers; to reuenge as strict,

Their owne hearts eating. But, that Ithacus

(Thus neuer meriting) should suffer thus;

I deeply suffer. His more pious mind

Diuides him from these fortunes. Though vnkind

Is Pietie to him, giuing him a fate,

More suffering then the most infortunate;

So long kept friendlesse, in a sea-girt soile,

Where the seas nauile is a syluane Ile,

In which the Goddesse dwels, that doth deriue

Her birth from Atlas; who, of all aliue,

The motion and the fashion doth command,

With his [^DLPS8] wise mind, whose forces vnderstand

The inmost deepes and gulfes of all the seas:

Who (for his skill of things superiour) stayes

The two steepe Columnes that • rop earth and heauen.

His daughter tis, who holds this [^DLPS9] homelesse-driuen,

Still mourning with her. Euermore profuse

Of soft and winning speeches; that abuse

And make so languishingly, and possest

With so remisse [^DLPS10] a mind; her loued guest

Manage the action of his way for home.

Where he (though in affection ouercome)

In iudgement yet; more longs to shew his hopes,

His countries smoke leape from her chimney tops,

And death askes in her armes. Yet neuer shall

Thy lou’d heart be conuerted on his thrall,

(Austere Oly [illegible]:) did not euer he,

In ample Troy, thy altars gratifie?

And Grecians Fleete make in thy offerings swim?

O [illegible], why still then burnes thy wrath to him?

The Cloud-assembler answerd: [^DLPS11] What words flie

(Bold daughter) from thy Pale of [^DLPS12] Ivorie?

As if I euer could cast from my care

Diuine Vlysses, who exceeds so farre

All men in wisedome? and so oft hath giuen

To all th’Immortals thron’d in ample heauen,

So great and sacred gifts? But his decrees,

That holds the earth in with his nimble knees,

Stand to Vlysses longings so extreme,

For taking from the God-foe Polyphe • e

His onely eye; a Cyclop, that excell’d

All other Cyclops: with whose burthen swell’d

The Nymph Th • osa; the diuine increase

Of Phorcis seed, a great God of the seas.

She mixt with Neptune in his hollow caues,

And bore this Cyclop to that God of waues.

For whose lost eye, th’Earth-shaker did not kill

Erring Vlysses; but reserues him still

In life for more death. But vse we our powres,

And round about vs cast these cares of ours,

All to discouer how we may preferre

His wisht retreate; and Nept • ne make forbeare

His sterne eye to him: since no one God can

In spite of all, preuaile, but gainst a man.

To this, this answer made the gray-eyd Maide:

Supreame of rulers, since so well apaide

The blessed Gods are all then, now, in thee

To limit wise Vlysses miserie;

And that you speake, as you referd to me

Prescription for the meanes; in this sort be

Their sacred order: let vs now addresse

With vtmost speed, our swift Argicides,

To tell the Nymph that beares the golden Tres • e

In th’ile Ogygia, [^DLPS13] that tis our will

She should not stay our lou’d Vlysses still;

But suffer his returne: and then will I

To Ithaca, to make his sonne apply

His Sires inquest the more; infusing force

Into his soule, to summon the concourse

Of curld-head Greekes to counsaile: and deterre

Each wooer that hath bene the slaughterer

Of his fat sheepe and crooked-headed beeues,

From more wrong to his mother; and their leaues

Take in such termes, as fit deserts so great.

To Sparta then, and Pylos, where doth beate

Bright Amathus, the flood and epithete

To all that kingdome; my aduice shall send

The spirit-aduanc’d Prince, to the pious end

Of seeking his lost father; if he may

Receiue report from Fame, where rests his stay;

And make, besides, his owne successiue worth,

Knowne to the world; [^DLPS14] and set in action forth.

This said, her wingd shooes to her feete she tied,

Formd all of gold, and all eternified;

That on the round earth, or the sea, sustaind

Her rauisht substance, swift as gusts of wind.

Then tooke she her strong Lance, with steele made keene,

Great, massie, actiue, that whole hoasts of men

(Though all Heroes) conquers; if her ire

Their wrongs inflame, backt by so great a Sire.

Downe from Olympus tops, she headlong diu’d;

And swift as thought, in Ithaca arriu’d,

Close at Vlysses gates; in whose first court,

She made her stand; [^DLPS15] and for her breasts support,

Leand on her iron Lance: her forme imprest

With Mentas likenesse, come, as being a guest.

There found she those proud wooers, that were then

Set on those Oxe-hides that themselues had slaine,

Before the gates; and all at dice were playing.

To them the heralds, and the rest obaying,

Fill’d wine and water; some, still as they plaid;

And some, for solemne suppers stare, puruaid;

With porous sponges, clensing tables, seru’d

With much rich feast; of which to all they keru’d.

God-like Telemachus, amongst them sat,

Grieu’d much in mind; and in his heart begat

All representment of his absent Sire;

How (come from far-off parts) his spirits would fire

With those proud wooers sight, with slaughter parting

Their bold concourse; and to himselfe conuerting

The honors they vsurpt, his owne commanding.

In this discourse, he, first, saw Pallas standing

Vnbidden entrie: vp rose, and addrest

His pace right to her; angrie that a guest

Should stand so long at gate: and coming neare,

Her right hand tooke; tooke in his owne, her speare;

And thus saluted: Grace to your repaire,

(Faire guest) your welcome shall be likewise faire.

Enter, and (chear’d with feast) disclose th’intent

That causde your coming. This said; first he went,

And Pallas followd. To a roome they came,

Steepe, and of state; the Iauelin of the Dame,

He set against a pillar, vast and hie,

Amidst a large and bright-kept Armorie,

Which was, besides, with woods of Lances grac’d,

Of his graue fathers. In a throne, he plac’d

The man-turnd Goddesse; vnder which was spred

A Carpet, rich, and of deuicefull thred;

A footstoole staying her feete; and by her chaire,

Another seate (all garnisht wondrous faire,

To rest, or sleepe on in the day) he set

Farre from the prease of wooers; lest at meate

The noise they still made, might offend his guest,

Disturbing him at banquet or at rest,

Euen to his combat, with that pride of theirs,

That kept no noble forme in their affaires.

And these he set farre from them, much the rather

To question freely of his absent father.

A Table fairely polisht then, was spread,

On which a reuerend officer set bread;

And other seruitors, all sorts of meate,

(Salads, and flesh, such as their haste could get)

Seru’d with obseruance in. And then the S • wre,

Prowr’d water from a great and golden Ewre,

That from their hands, t’a siluer Caldron ran;

Both washt, and seated close; the voicefull man

Fetcht cups of gold, and set by them; and round

Those cups with wine, with all endeuour crownd.

Then rusht in the rude wooers; themselues plac’t;

The heralds water gaue; the maids in haste

Seru’d bread from baskets. When, of all prepar’d,

And set before them; the bold wooers shar’d;

Their Pages plying their cups, past the rest.

But lustie wooers must do more then feast;

For now (their hungers and their thirsts allaid)

They call’d for songs, and Dances. Those, they said,

Were th’ornaments of feast. The herald strait

A Harpe, caru’d full of artificiall sleight,

Thrust into Phemius (a learnd singers) hand,

Who, till he much was vrg’d, on termes did stand;

But after, plaid and sung with all his art.

Telemachus, [^DLPS16] to Pallas then (apart,

His eare inclining close, that none might heare)

In this sort said: My Guest, exceeding deare,

Will you not sit incenst, with what I say?

These are the cares these men take; feast and play:

Which easly they may vse, because they eate,

Free, and vnpunisht, of anothers meate.

And of a mans, whose white bones wasting lie

In some farre region, with th’incessancie

Of showres powr’d downe vpon them; lying ashore;

Or in the seas washt nak’d. Who, if he wore

Those bones with flesh, and life, and industrie;

And these, might here in Ithaca, set eye

On him returnd; they all would wish to be,

Either past other, in celeritie

Of feete and knees; and not contend t’exceed

In golden garments. But his vertues feed

The fate of ill death: nor is left to me

The least hope of his lifes recouerie;

No not, if any of the mortall race

Should tell me his returne; the chearfull face

Of his returnd day, neuer will appeare.

But tell me; and let Truth, your witnesse beare;

Who? and from whence you are? what cities birth?

What parents? In what vessell set you forth?

And with what mariners arriu’d you here?

I cannot thinke you a foote passenger.

Recount then to me all; to teach me well,

Fit vsage for your worth. And if it fell

In chance now first that you thus see vs here,

Or that in former passages you were

My fathers guest? For many men haue bene

Guests to my father. Studious of men,

His sociable nature euer was.

On him againe, [^DLPS17] the grey-eyd Maide did passe

This kind reply; Ile answer passing true,

All thou hast askt: My birth, his honour drew

From wise Anchialus. The name I beare,

Is Mentas, the commanding Ilander

Of all the Taphians, studious in the art

Of Nauigation. Hauing toucht this part

With ship and men; of purpose to maintaine

Course through the darke seas, t’other languag’d men.

And Temesis sustaines the cities name,

For which my ship is bound; made knowne by fame,

For rich in brasse; which my occasions need;

And therefore bring I shining steele in steed,

Which their vse wants; yet makes my vessels freight;

That neare a plowd field, rides at anchors weight,

Apart this citie, in the harbor calld

Rethrus, whose waues, with Neius woods are walld.

Thy Sire and I, were euer mutuall guests,

At eithers house, still interchanging feasts.

I glorie in it. Aske, when thou shalt see

Laertes, th’old Her • e, these of mee,

From the beginning. He, men say, no more

Visits the Citie; but will needs deplore

His sonnes beleeu’d losse, in a priuate field;

One old maide onely, at his hands to yeeld

Foode to his life, as oft as labour makes

His old limbs faint; which though he creepes, he takes

Along a fruitfull plaine, set all with vines,

Which, husbandman-like (though a King) he proines.

But now I come to be thy fathers guest;

I heare he wanders, while these wooers feast.

And (as th’Immortals prompt me at this houre)

Ile tell thee, out of a prophetique powre,

(Not as profest a Prophet, nor cleare seene

At all times, what shall after chance to men)

What I conceiue, for this time, will be true:

The Gods inflictions keepe your Sire from you.

Diuine Vlysses, yet, abides not dead

Aboue earth, nor beneath; nor buried

In any seas, (as you did late conceiue)

But, with the broad sea sieg’d, is kept aliue

Within an Ile, by rude and vp-land men,

That in his spite, his passage home detaine.

Yet long it shall not be, before he tred

His countries deare earth; though solicited,

And held from his returne, with iron chaines.

For he hath wit to forge a world of traines,

And will, of all, be sure to make good one,

For his returne, so much relide vpon.

But tell me, and be true: Art thou indeed

So much [^DLPS18] a sonne, as to be said the seed

Of Ithacus himselfe? Exceeding much

Thy forehead and faire eyes, at his forme touch:

For oftentimes we met, as you and I

Meete at this houre; before he did apply

His powres for Troy. When other Grecian States,

In hollow ships were his associates.

But since that time, mine eyes could neuer see

Renowmd Vlysses; nor met his with me.

The wise Telemachus [^DLPS19] againe replide:

You shall withall I know, be satisfide.

My mother, certaine, sayes I am his sonne:

I know not; nor was euer simply knowne

By any child, the sure truth of his Sire.

But would my veines had tooke in liuing fire

From some man happie, rather then one wise,

Whom age might see seizd, of what youth made prise.

But he, whoeuer of the mortall race

Is most vnblest, he holds my fathers place.

This, since you aske, I answer. She, againe:

The Gods sure did not make the future straine

Both of thy race and dayes, [^DLPS20] obscure to thee,

Since thou wert borne so of Penelope.

The stile may by thy after acts be wonne,

Of so great Sire, the high vndoubted sonne.

Say truth in this then: what’s this feasting here?

What all this rout? Is all this nuptiall cheare?

Or else some friendly banquet made by thee?

For here no shots are, where all sharers be.

Past measure contumeliously, this crew

Fare through thy house; which should th’ingenuous view

Of any good or wise man come and find,

(Impietie seeing playd in euery kind)

He could not but through euery veine be mou’d.

Againe Telemachus: My guest much lou’d,

Since you demand and sift these sights so farre;

I grant twere fit, a house so regular,

Rich, and so faultlesse, once in gouernment,

Should still, at all parts, the same forme present,

That gaue it glorie, while her Lord was here.

But now the Gods, that vs displeasure beare,

Haue otherwise appointed; and disgrace

My father most, of all the mortall race.

For whom I could not mourne so, were he dead,

Amongst his fellow Captaines slaughtered

By common enemies; or in the hands

Of his kind friends, had ended his commands;

After he had egregiously bestow’d

His powre and order in a warre so vow’d;

And to his tombe, all Greekes their grace had done;

That to all ages he might leaue his sonne

Immortall honor: but now Harpies haue

Digg’d in their gorges his abhorred graue.

Obscure, inglorious, Death hath made his end;

And me (for glories) to all griefes contend.

Nor shall I any more mourne him alone;

The Gods haue giuen me other cause of mone.

For looke how many Optimates remaine

In Samos, or the shoares Dulichian,

Shadie Zacynthus; or how many beare

Rule in the rough browes of this Iland here▪

So many now, my mother and this house,

At all parts make defam’d and ruinous.

And she, her hatefull nuptials, nor denies,

Nor will dispatch their importunities:

Though she beholds them spoile still, as they feast,

All my free house yeelds: and the little rest

Of my dead Sire in me, perhaps intend

To bring, ere long, to some vntimely end.

This Pallas sigh’d, and answerd: O (said she)

Absent Vlysses is much mist by thee:

That on these shamelesse suiters he might lay

His wreakfull hands. Should he now come, and stay

In thy Courts first gates, armd with helme and shield,

And two such darts as I haue seene him wield,

When first I saw him in our Taphian Court,

Feasting, and doing his deserts disport;

When from Ephyrus he returnd by vs

From Il • s, sonne to Centa • re Mer • rus;

To whom he traueld through the watrie dreads,

For bane to poison his sharpe arrowes heads,

That death, but toucht, causde; which he would not giue,

Because he fear’d, the Gods that euer liue,

Would plague such death with death; and yet their feare

Was to my fathers bosome not so deare

As was thy fathers loue; (for what he sought,

My louing father found him, to a thought.)

If such as then, Vlysses might but meete

With these proud wooers; all were at his feete

But instant dead men; and their nuptials

Would proue as bitter as their dying galls.

But these things in the Gods knees are reposde,

If his returne shall see with wreake inclosde,

These in his house, or he returne no more.

And therefore I aduise thee to explore

All waies thy selfe, to set these wooers gone;

To which end giue me fit attention;

To morrow into solemne councell call

The Greeke Heroes; and declare to all

(The Gods being witnesse) what thy pleasure is:

Command to townes of their natiuities,

These frontlesse wooers. If thy mothers mind,

Stands to her second nuptials, so enclinde;

Returne she to her royall fathers towers,

Where th’one of these may wed her, and her dowers

Make rich, and such as may consort with grace,

So deare a daughter, of so great a race.

And thee I warne as well, (if thou as well

Wilt heare and follow) take thy best built saile,

With twentie owers mann’d, and haste t’enquire

Where the abode is of thy absent Sire;

If any can informe thee, or thine eare

From Io • e the fame of his retreate may heare;

(For chiefly Ioue giues all that honours men).

To Pylos first be thy addression then

To god-like Nestor. Thence, to Sparta, haste

To gold-lockt Menelaus, who was last

Of all the brasse-armd Greekes that saild from Troy.

And trie from both these, if thou canst enioy

Newes of thy Sires returnd life, any where,

Though sad thou sufferst in his search, a yeare.

If of his death thou hear’st, returne thou home;

And to his memorie erect a tombe:

Performing parent-rites, of feast and game,

Pompous, and such as best may fit his fame:

And then thy mother a fit husband giue.

These past, consider how thou maist depriue

Of worthlesse life, these wooers in thy house;

By open force, or proiects enginous.

Things childish fit not thee; th’art so no more:

Hast thou not heard, how all men did adore

Diuine Orestes, after he had slaine

Aegisthus, murthering by a trecherous traine

His famous father? Be then (my most lou’d)

Valiant and manly; euery way approu’d

As great as he. I see thy person fit▪

Noble thy mind, and excellent thy wit;

All giuen thee, so to vse and manage here,

That euen past death they may their memories beare.

In meane time Ile descend to ship and men,

That much expect me. Be obseruant then

Of my aduice, and carefull to maintaine

In equall acts thy royall fathers raigne.

Telemachus replide: You ope (faire Guest)

A friends heart, in your speech; as well exprest,

As might a father serue t’informe his sonne:

All which▪ sure place haue in my memorie wonne.

Abide yet, though your voyage calls away;

That hauing bath’d; and dignifide your stay

With some more honour; you may yet beside,

Delight your mind, by being gratifide your stay

With some rich Present, taken in your way;

That, as a Iewell, your respect may lay

Vp in your treasurie; bestowd by me,

As free friends vse to guests of such degree.

Detaine me not (said she) so much inclinde

To haste my voyage. What thy loued minde

Commands to giue; at my returne this way,

Bestow on me; that I directly may

Conuey it home; which (more of price to mee)

The more it askes my recompence to thee.

This said, away gray-eyd Minerua flew,

Like to a mounting Larke; and did endue

His mind with strength and boldnesse; and much more

Made him, his father long for, then before.

And weighing better who his guest might be,

He stood amaz’d, and thought a Deitie

Was there descended: to whose will he fram’d

His powres at all parts; and went, so inflam’d

Amongst the wooers; who were silent set,

To heare a Poet sing the sad retreat

The Greekes performd from Tr • y: which was from thence

Proclaimd by Pallas, paine of her offence.

When which diuine song, was perceiu’d to beare

That mournfull subiect, by the listning eare

Of wi • e Penelope (Icari • seed,

Who from an vpper roome had giu’n it heed)

Downe she descended by a winding staire;

Not solel • ; but the State, in her repaire,

Two Maides of Honour made. And when this Queene

Of women, stoopt so low, she might be seene

By all her wooers. In the doore, aloofe

(Entring the Hall, grac’d with a goodly roofe)

She stood, in shade of gracefull vailes implide

About her beauties: on her either [illegible],

Her honor’d women. When, (to [illegible] mo • ’d) thus

She chid the sacred Singer: [illegible],

You know a number more of these gre • deeds,

Of Gods and men (that are the sacred [illegible]

And proper subiects of a Poets song,

And those due pleasures that to men belong)

Besides these facts that furnish Tr • is retreate,

Sing one of those to these, that round your • eate

They may with silence sit, and taste their wine:

But cea • e this song, that through these eares of mine,

Conuey deseru’d occasion to my heart

Of endlesse sorrowes; of which, the desert

In me, vnmeasur’d is, past all these men;

So endlesse is the memorie I retaine;

And so desertfull is that memorie

Of such a man, as hath a dignitie

So broad, it spreds it selfe through all the pride

Of Greece, and Argos. To the Queene, replide

Inspir’d Telemachus: Why thus enuies

My mother, him that fits [^DLPS21] societies

With so much harmonie, to let him please

His owne mind, in his will to honor these▪

For these [^DLPS22] ingenuous, and first sort of men,

That do immediatly from Io • e retaine

Their singing raptures; are by Ioue as well

Inspir’d with choice, of what their songs impell.

Ioues will is free in it; and therefore theirs;

Nor is this man to blame, that the repaires

The Greekes make homeward, sings: for his fresh Muse,

Men still most celebrate, that sings most newes.

And therefore in his note, your eares employ:

For, not Vlysses onely lost in Troy

The day of his returne; but numbers more,

The deadly ruines of his fortunes bore.

Go you then, In; and take your worke in hand;

Your web, and distaffe, and your maids command

To plie their fit worke. Words, to men are due,

And those reprouing counsels you pursue;

And most, to me, of all men; since I beare

The rule of all things, that are manag’d here.

She went amazd away; and in her heart,

Laid vp the wisedome Pallas did impart

To her lou’d sonne so lately; turnd againe

Vp to her chamber; and no more would raigne

In manly counsels. To her women, she

Applied her sway; and to the wooers, he

Began new orders; other spirits bewraid

Then those, in spite of which, the wooers swaid.

And (whiles his mothers teares, still washt her eies,

Till gray Minerua did those teares surprise

With timely sleepe; and that her woo’rs did rouse

Rude Tumult vp, through all the shadie house,

Disposde to sleepe because their widow was)

Telemachus, this new-giuen spirit did passe

On their old insolence: [^DLPS23] Ho! you that are

My mothers wooers! much too high ye beare

Your petulant spirits: sit; and while ye may

Enioy me in your banquets: see ye lay

These loud notes downe; nor do this man the wrong,

(Because my mother hath dislikt his song)

To grace her interruption: tis a thing

Honest, and honourd too, to heare one sing

Numbers so like the Gods in elegance,

As this man flowes in. By the mornes [^DLPS24] first light,

Ile call ye all before me, in a Court,

That I may cleerly banish your resort

With all your rudenesse, from these roofes of mine.

Away; and elsewhere in your feasts combine:

Consume your owne goods, and make mutuall feast

At eithers house. Or if ye still hold best,

And for your humors more suffised fill,

To feed, to spoile (because vnpunisht still)

On other findings: spoile; but here I call

Th’eternall Gods to witnesse, if it fall

In my wisht reach once, to be dealing wreakes,

(By Ioues high bountie) these your present checks,

To what I giue in charge, shall adde mo • e reines

To my reuenge hereafter; and the paines

Ye then must suffer, shall passe all your pride,

Euer to see redrest, or qualifide.

At this, all bit their lips; and did admire

His words sent from him, with such phrase, and fire:

Which so much mou’d them; that [illegible]

(Eupytheus sonne) cried out: Te • achus!

The Gods, I thinke, haue rapt thee to this height

Of elocution; and this great conceit

Of selfe-abilitie. We all may pray,

That I • e inuest not in this kingdomes sway,

Thy forward forces; which I see put forth

A hote ambition in thee, for thy birth.

Be not offended, [^DLPS25] (he replide) if I

Shall say, I would assume this emperie,

If Ioue gaue leaue. You are not he that sings,

The rule of kingd • es is the worst of things.

Nor is it ill, at all, to sway a throne:

A man may quic • y gaine possession

Of mightie riches; make a wondrous prise

Set of his vertues; but the dignities

That decke a King, there are enough beside

In this circumfluous Ile, that want no pride

To thinke them worthy of; as yong as I,

And old as you are. An ascent so hie,

My thoughts affect not: dead is he that held

Desert of vertue to haue so exceld.

But of these turrets, I will take on me

To be the absolute King; and reigne as free

As did my father, ouer all, his hand

Left here, in this house, slaues to my command.

Eurymachus, the sonne of Polyb • ,

To this, made this reply: Tele • achus!

The Girlond of this kingdome, let the knees

Of deitie runne for: but the faculties,

This house is seasd of, and the turrets here,

Thou shalt be Lord of; nor shall any beare

The least part of, of all thou doest possesse,

As long as this land is no wildernesse,

Nor rul’d by out-lawes). But giue these their passe,

And tell me (best of Prince) who he was

That guested here so late? from whence? and what

In any region bosted he his state?

His race? his countrie? Brought he any newes

Of thy returning Father? Or for dues

Of moneys to him, made he fit repaire?

How sodainly he rusht into the aire?

Nor would sustaine to stay, and make him knowne?

His Port shewd no debaucht companion.

He answerd: Thereturne of my lou’d Sire,

Is past all hope; and should rude Fame inspire

From any place, a flattring messenger,

With newes of his suruiuall; he should beare

No least beliefe off, from my desperate loue.

Which if a sacred Prophet should approue,

(Calld by my mother for her cares vnrest)

It should not moue me. For my late faire guest,

He was of old my Fathers: touching here

From Sea-girt Taphos; and for name doth beare

Mentas; the sonne of wise Anchialus;

And gouernes all the Taphians, studious

Of Nauigation. This he said: but knew

It was a Goddesse. These againe withdrew

To dances, and attraction of the song.

And while their pleasures did the time prolong,

The sable Euen descended; and did steepe

The lids of all men in desire of sleepe.

Telemachus, into a roome built hie,

Of his illustrous Court; and to the eie

Of circular prospect; to his bed ascended;

And in his mind, much weightie thought contended.

Before him, Euryclaea (that well knew

All the obseruance of a handmaids due,

Daughter to Opis Pysenorides)

Bore two bright torches. Who did so much please

Laërtes in her prime; that for the price

Of twentie Oxen, he made merchandize

Of her rare beauties; and Loues equall flame

To her he felt, as to his nuptiall Dame.

Yet neuer durst he mixe with her in bed;

So much the anger of his wife he fled.

She, now growne old, to yong Telemach • s

Two torches bore; and was obsequious,

Past all his other maids; and did apply

Her seruice to him, from his infancie.

His wel-built chamber, reacht; she op’t the dore;

He, on his bed sat. The soft weeds he wore,

Put off; and to the diligent old maid

Gaue all; who fitly all in thicke folds laid,

And hung them on a beame-pin neare the bed;

That round about was rich embrodered.

Then made she haste forth from him; and did bring

The doore together with a siluer ring;

And by a string, a barre to it did pull.

He, laid, and couerd well with cu • led wooll,

Wouen in silke quilts: all night emploid his minde

About the taske that Pallas had design’d.

•

N Ow when with rosie fingers, th’early borne,

And, throwne through all the aire, appear’d the mo • e;

Vlysses lou’d sonne from his bed appeard;

His weeds put on; and did about him gird

His sword, that thwart his shoulders hung; and tied

To his faire feete, faire shooes; and all parts plied

For speedie readinesse; who when he trod

The open earth, to men, shewd like a God.

The Heralds then, he strait charg’d to consort

The curld-head Greekes, with lowd calls to a Court.

They summon’d; [^DLPS26] th’other came, in vtmost haste;

Who, all assembld, and in one heape plac’t;

He likewse came to councell; and did beare

In his fai • e hand, his iron-headed speare:

Nor came alone; nor with men troopes prepar’d;

But two fleete dogs, made, both his traine, and Guard.

Pallas supplied with her high wisedomes grace,

(That all mens wants supplies) States painted face.

His entring presence, all men did admire;

Who tooke seate in the high throne of his Sire;

To which the graue Peeres gaue him reuerend way.

Amongst whom, an Aegyptian Heroe,

(Crooked with age, and full of skill) begun

The speech to all. Who had a loued sonne,

That with diuine Vlysses did ascend

His hollow fleete to Troy: to serue which end,

He kept faire horse, and was a man at Armes;

And in the cruell Cyclops sterne alarmes,

His life lost by him, in his hollow caue;

Whose entrailes open’d his abhorred graue;

And made of him (of all Vlysses traine)

His latest supper, being latest slaine.

His name was Antip • us. And this old man,

This crooked growne; this wise Aegyptian,

Had three sonnes more; of which, one riotous,

A wooer was, and calld [illegible];

The other two, tooke both, his owne wisht course.

Yet, both the best fates, weighd not downe the worse;

But left the old man mindfull still of mone;

Who, weeping, thus bespake the Session:

Heare, Ithacensia • s, all I fitly say;

Since our diuine Vlysses parting day

Neuer was councell calld, nor session;

And now, by whom is this thus vndergone?

Whom did Necessitie so much compell,

Of yong or old? Hath any one heard tell

Of any coming armie; that he thus now

May openly take boldnesse to a • ow?

First hauing heard it. Or will any here

Some motion for the publicke good preferre?

Some worth of note there is in this command;

And, me thinkes, it must be some good mans hand

That’s put to it: that either hath direct

Meanes to assist; or, for his good affect,

Hopes to be happie in the proofe he makes;

And that, Ioue grant, what ere he vndertakes.

Telemachus (reioycing much to heare

The good hope, and opinion men did beare

Of his young actions) no longer • at;

But longd t’approue, what this man pointed at;

And make his first proofe, in a cause so good:

And in the Councels chiefe place, [^DLPS27] vp he stood;

When strait, Pysenor (Herald to his Sire,

And learnd in counsels) felt his heart on fire,

To heare him speake; and put into his hand

The Scepter that his Father did command;

Then (to the old Aegyptian turnd) he spoke:

Father, not farre he is, that vndertooke

To call this councell; whom you soone shall know.

My selfe, whose wrongs, my griefes will ma • e me show,

Am he that author’d this assembly here;

Nor haue I heard of any armie neare;

Of which, being first told, I might iterate;

Nor for the publicke good, can aught, rela • ▪

Onely mine owne affaires all this procure,

That in my house a double ill endure;

One, hauing lost a Father so renownd,

Whose kind rule once, with your command was crownd:

The other is, what much more doth augment

His weightie losse, the ruine imminent

Of all, my house by it, my goods all spent.

And of all this, the wooers, that are sonnes

To our chiefe Peeres, are the Confusions:

Importuning my Mothers mariage

Against her will; nor dares their blouds bold rage

Go to Icarius, her fathers Court,

That, his will askt, in kind and comely sort,

He may endow his daughter with a dowre;

And, she consenting, at his pleasures powre,

Dispose her to a man, that (thus behau’d)

May haue fit grace; and see her honor sau’d;

But these, in none but my house, all their liues

Resolue to spend; slaughtring my sheepe and beeues;

And with my fattest goates, lay feast on feast;

My generous wine, consuming as they list.

A world of things they spoile; here wanting one,

That like Vlysses, quickly, could set gone

These peace-plagues from his house, that spoile like warre.

Whom my powres are vnfit, to vrge so farre,

My selfe immartiall. But had I the powre,

My will should serue me, to exempt this houre

From out my life time. For past patience,

Base deeds are done here, that exceed defence

Of any honor. Falling is my house,

Which you should shame to see so ruinous.

Reuerence the censures, that all good men giue,

That dwell about you; and for feare to liue

Exposde to heauens wrath (that doth euer pay

Paines, for ioyes forfait) euen by Ioue I pray

Or Themis; both which, powres haue to restraine

Or gather Councels; that ye will abstaine

From further spoile; and let me onely waste

In that most wretched griefe I haue embrac’t

For my lost Father. And though I am free

From meriting your outrage; yet, if he

(Good man) hath euer, with a hostile heart

Done ill to any Greeke; on me conuert

Your like hostilitie; and vengeance take

Of his ill, on my life; and all these, make

Ioyne in that iustice; but to see abusde

Those goods that do none ill, but being ill vsde,

Exceeds all right. Yet better tis for me,

My whole possessions, and my rents to see

Consum’d by you; then lose my life and all;

For on your rapine a reuenge may fall,

While I liue; and so long I may complaine

About the Citie; till my goods againe

(Oft askt) may be with all amends repaid.

But in the meane space, your mis-rule hath laid

Griefes on my bosome, that can onely speake,

And are denied the instant powre of wreake.

This said; his Scepter gainst the ground he threw,

And teares still’d from him; which mou’d all the crew:

The Court strooke silent; not a man did dare

To giue a word, that might offend his • are.

Antinous onely, in this sort replied:

High-spoken, [^DLPS28] and of spirit vnpacified;

How haue you sham’d vs, in this speech of yours?

Will you brand vs, for an offence not ours?

Your mother (first in craft) is first in cause.

Three yeares are past, and neare, the fourth now drawes,

Since first she mocked the Peeres Achaian.

All, she made hope, and promist euery man:

Sent for vs euer; left loues shew in nought;

But in her heart, conceald another thought.

Besides, (as curious in her craft) her loo • e

She with a web charg’d, hard to ouercome;

And thus bespake vs: [^DLPS29] Youths that seeke my bed;

Since my diuine Spouse rests among the dead,

Hold on your suites, but till I end, at most

This funerall weed; lest what is done, be lost.

Besides, I purpose, that when th’austere fate

Of bitter death, shall take into his state,

Lae • tes the Heroe; it shall decke

His royall corse; since I should suffer checke

In ill report, of euery common dame,

If one so rich, should shew in death his shame.

This speech she vsde; and this did soone perswade

Our gentle mindes. But this, a worke she made

So hugely long; [^DLPS30] vndoing still in night

(By torches) all, she did by dayes broade light;

That three yeares her deceit, diu’d past our view;

And made vs thinke, that all she faind, was true.

But when the fourth yeare came; and those • lie houres,

That still surprise at length, Dames craftiest powres;

One of her women, that knew all, disclosde

The secret to vs; that she still vnlosde

Her whole daies faire affaire, in depth of night.

And then, no further she could force her sleight,

But, of necessitie, her worke gaue end.

And thus, by me, doth euery other friend,

Professing loue to her, reply to thee;

That euen thy selfe, and all Greeks else may see,

That we offend not in our stay, but shee.

To free thy house then, send her to her Sire;

Commanding that her choice be left entire

To his election, and one settl’d will.

Nor let her vexe with her illusions still,

Her friends that woo her; standing on her wit;

Because wise Pallas hath giuen wiles to it,

So full of Art; and made her vnderstand

All workes, in faire skill of a Ladies hand.

But (for her working mind) we reade of none

Of all the old world; in which Greece hath showne

Her rarest peeces, that could equall her:

Tyro, Alcmena, and Mycena were

To hold comparison in no degree

(For solide braine) with wise Penelope.

And yet in her delayes of vs, she showes

No profits skill, with all the wit she owes;

For all this time, thy goods and victuals go

To vtter ruine; and shall euer so

While thus the Gods, her glorious mind dispose.

Glorie, her selfe may gaine; but thou shalt lose

Thy longings euen for necessary food;

For we will neuer go, where lies our good;

Nor any other where; till this delay

She puts on all, she quits with th’endlesse stay

Of some one of vs; that to all the rest

May giue free farewell with his nuptiall feast.

The wise yong Prince replide: Antinous! [^DLPS31]

I may by no meanes turne out of my house,

Her that hath brought me forth, and nourisht me.

Besides: if quicke or dead my Father be

In any region, yet abides in doubt.

And twill go hard, (my meanes being so runne out)

To tender to Icarius againe

(If he againe, my mother must maintaine

In her retreate) the dowre she brought with her.

And then, a double ill it will conferre,

Both from my Father, and from God, on me;

When (thrust out of her house) on her bent knee,

My Mother shall the horrid Furies raise

With imprecations: and all men dispraise

My part in her exposure. Neuer then

Will I performe this counsell. If your splene

Swell at my courses; once more I command

Your absence from my house. Some others hand

Charge with your banquets. On your owne goods • ate;

And either other mutually intreate,

At either of your houses, with your feast.

But if ye still esteeme more sweete and best,

Anothers spoile; [^DLPS32] so you still wreaklesse liue:

Gnaw (vermine-like) things • acred: no lawes giue

To your deuouring; it remaines that I

Inuoke each euer-liuing Deitie;

And vow if Ioue shall daigne in any date,

Powre of like paines, for pleasures so past rate;

From thenceforth looke, where ye haue reueld so,

Vnwreakt, your ruines, all shall vndergo.

Thus spake Telemachus, [^DLPS33] t’assure whose threat,

Farre-seeing Ioue, vpon their pinions set

Two Eagles from the high browes of a hill;

That, mounted on the winds, together still

Their strokes extended. But arriuing now

Amidst the Councell; ouer euery brow,

Shooke their thicke wings; and (threatning deaths cold feares)

Their neckes and cheekes tore with their eager Seres.

Then, on the Courts right-hand away they flew,

Aboue both Court and Citie: with whose view

And studie what euents they might fore • ell,

The Councell into admiration fell.

The old Her • e, Halitherses [^DLPS34] then,

The sonne of Nestor; that of all old men

(His Peeres in that Court) onely could foresee

By flight of fowles, mans fixed destinie;

Twixt them and their amaze, this interposde:

Heare (Ithacensians) all your doubts disclosde;

The wooers most are toucht in this ostent,

To whom are dangers great and imminent.

For now, not long more shall Vlysses beare

Lacke of his most lou’d; but fils some place neare,

Addressing to these wooers, Fa • e and Death.

And many more, this mischiefe menaceth

Of vs inhabiting this famous Ile.

Let vs consult yet, in this long forewhile,

How to our selues we may preuent this ill.

Let these men rest secure, and reuell still:

Though they might find it safer, if with vs

They would in time preuent what threats them thus:

Since not without sure triall, I foretell

These coming stormes; but know their issue well.

For to Vlysses, all things haue euent,

As I foretold him; when for Ili • n went

The whole Greeke fleete together; and with them,

Th’abundant in all counsels, tooke the streame.

I told him, that when much ill he had past,

And all his men were lost; he should at last,

The twentith yeare turne home; to all vnknowne;

All which effects are to perfection growne.

Eurymachus, the sonne of Polybus,

Opposde this mans presage, and answerd thus:

Hence, [^DLPS35] Great in yeares; go, prophecie at home;

Thy children teach to shun their ils to come.

In these, superiour farre to thee, am I.

A world of fowles beneath the Sunne-beames flie,

That are not fit t’enforme a prophecie.

Besides, Vlysses perisht long ago,

And would thy fates to thee had destin’d so;

Since so, thy so much prophecie had spar’d

Thy wronging of our rights; which for reward

Expected, home with thee, hath summon’d vs

Within the anger of Telemachus.

But this will I presage, which shall be true,

If any sparke of anger, chance t’ensue

Thy much old art, in these deepe Auguries,

In this yong man incensed by thy lies;

Euen to himselfe, his anger shall conferre

The greater anguish; and thine owne ends erre

From all their obiects: and besides, thine age

Shall feele a paine, to make thee curse presage,

With worthy cause, for it shall touch thee neare.

But I will soone giue end to all our feare,

Preuenting whatsoeuer chance can fall,

In my suite to the yong Prince, for vs all

To send his mother to her fathers house,

That he may sort her out a worthy spouse;

And such a dowre bestow, as may befit

One lou’d, to leaue her friends, and follow it.

Before which course be, I beleeue that none

Of all the Greekes will cease th’ambition

Of such a match. For, chance what can to vs,

We, no man feare; no not Telemachus,

Though ne’re so greatly spoken. Nor care we

For any threats of austere prophecie

Which thou (old dotard) vantst of so in vaine.

And thus shalt thou in much more hate remaine;

For still the Gods shall beare their ill expence;

Nor euer be disposde by competence,

Till with her nuptials, she dismisse our suites.

Our whole liues dayes shall sow hopes for such fruites.

Her vertues we contend to; nor will go

To any other, be she neuer so

Worthy of vs, and all the worth we owe.

He answerd him: Eurymach • s! and all

Ye generous wooers, [^DLPS36] now, in generall;

I see your braue resolues; and will no more

Make speech of these points; and much lesse, implore.

It is enough, that all the Grecians here,

And all the Gods besides, iust witnesse beare,

What friendly premonitions haue bene spent

On your forbearance; and their vaine euent.

Yet with my other friends, let loue preuaile

To fit me with a vessell, free of saile;

And twentie men; that may diuide to me

My readie passage through the yeelding sea.

For Sparta, and Amathoon Pylos shore

I now am bound; in purpose to explore

My long lackt Father; and to trie if Fame

(Or Ioue, most author of mans honourd name)

With his returne and life, may glad mine eare;

Though toild in that proofe, I sustaine a yeare.

If dead, I heare him, nor of more state; here

(Retir’d to my lou’d count • ie) I will rere

A Sepulcher to him, and celebrate

Such royall parent-rites, as fits his state.

And then, my mother to a Spouse dispose.

This said, he sat; and to the rest, arose

Mentor, [^DLPS37] that was Vlysses chosen friend;

To whom, when he set forth, he did commend

His compleate family; and whom he willd

To see the mind of his old Sire fulfild;

All things conseruing safe, till his retreate;

Who (tender of his charge; and seeing so set

In sleight care of their King, his subiects there;

Suffering his sonne, so much contempt to beare)

Thus grauely, and with zeale to him began:

No more, let any Scepter-bea • ing man,

Beneuolent, or milde, or humane be;

Nor in his minde, forme acts of pietie,

But euer feed on blood; and facts vniust

Commit, euen to the full swinge of his lust;

Since of diuine Vlysses, no man now

Of all his subiects, any thought doth show.

All whom, he gouernd; and became to them

(Rather then one that wore a diadem)

A most indulgent father. But (for all

That can touch me) within no enuie fall

These insolent wooers; that in violent kind,

Commit things foule, by th’ill wit of the mind;

And with the hazard of their heads, deuoure

Vlysses house; since his returning houre,

They hold past hope. But it affects me much,

(Ye dull plebeians) that all this doth touch

Your free States nothing; who (strooke dumbe) afford

These wooers, not so much wreake as a word;

Though few, and you, with onely number might

Extinguish to them, the prophaned light.

Euenors sonne (Liocritus) replide; [^DLPS38]

Mentor! the railer, made a foole with pride;

What language giu’st thou? that would quiet vs,

With putting vs in storme? exciting thus

The rout against vs? who, though more then we,

Should find it is no easie victorie

To driue men, habited in feast, from feasts;

No not if Ithacus himselfe, such guests

Should come and find so furnishing his Court,

And hope to force them from so sweete a fort.

His wife should little ioy in his arriue,

Though much she wants him: for, where she, aliue

Would hers enioy; there Death should claime his rights:

He must be conquerd, that with many fights.

Tho • speakst vnfit things. To their labours then

Disperse these people; and let these two men

(Mentor and Halitherses) that so boast,

From the beginning to haue gouernd most

In friendship of the Father; to the sonne

Confirme the course, he now affects to runne.

But my mind sayes, that if he would but vse

A little patience; he should here heare newes

Of all things that his wish would vnderstand;

But no good hope for, of the course in hand.

This said; the Councell rose; when euery Peere

And all the people, in dispersion were

To houses of their owne; the wooers yet

Made to Vlysses house their old retreat.

Telemachus, apart from all the prease,

Prepar’d to shore; and (in the aged seas,

His faire hands washt) did thus to Pallas pray: [^DLPS39]

Heare me (O Goddesse) that but yesterday

Didst daigne accesse to me at home; and lay

Graue charge on me, to take ship, and enquire

Along the darke seas for mine absent Sire;

Which all the Greekes oppose; amongst whom, most

Those that are proud still at anothers cost,

Past measure, and the ciuill rights of men,

(My mothers wooers) my repulse maintaine.

Thus spake he praying; when close to him came

Pallas, resembling Mentor, both in frame

Of voice and person; and aduisde him thus:

Those wooers well might know; [^DLPS40] Telemachus▪

Thou wilt not euer weake and childish be;

If to thee be instilld the facultie

Of mind and bodie, that thy Father grac’t.

And if (like him) there be in thee enchac’t

Vertue to giue words works, and works their end;

This voyage, that to them thou didst commend

Shall not so quickly, as they idly weene,

Be vaine, or giuen vp, for their opposite spleene.

But if Vlysses, nor Penelope

Were thy true parents; I then hope in thee

Of no more vrging thy attempt in hand;

For few, that rightly bred on both sides stand,

Are like their parents; many that are worse;

And most-few, better. Those then that the nurse,

Or mother call true borne; yet are not so;

Like worthy Sires, much lesse are like to grow.

But thou shewst now, that in thee fades not quite

Thy Fathers wisedome; and that future light

Shall therefore shew thee farre from being vnwise,

Or toucht with staine of bastard cowardize.

Hope therefore sayes, that thou wilt to the end

Pursue the braue act, thou didst erst intend.

But for the foolish wooers, they bewray

They neither counsell haue, nor so • le; since they

Are neither wise nor iust; and so must needs

Rest ignorant, how blacke aboue their heads

Fate houers, holding Death; that one sole day

Will make enough to make them all away.

For thee; the way thou wishest, shall no more

Flie thee a step; I that haue bene before

Thy Fathers friend; thine likewise now will be;

Prouide thy ship my selfe, and follow thee.

Go thou then home, and sooth each woo • rs vaine;

But vnder hand, fit all things for the Maine;

Wine, in as strong and sweete casks as you can;

And meale, the very marrow of a man;

Which put in good sure lether sacks; and see

That with sweete foode, sweete vessels still agree.

I, from the people, straite will presse for you

Free voluntaries; and (for ships) • now

Sea-circl’d Ithaca containes, both new

And old built; all which, Ile exactly view,

And chuse what one soeuer most doth please;

Which riggd, wee’l strait lanch, and assay the seas.

This spake I • es daughter, Pallas; whose voice heard;

No more Telemachus her charge deferd;

But hasted home; and, sad at heart, did see

Amidst his Hall, th’insulting wooers flea

Goates, and rost swine. Mo • gst whom, Antinous

Carelesse, (discouering in Telemachus

His grudge to see them) laught; met; tooke his hand,

And said; [^DLPS41] High spoken! with the mind so mannd;

Come, do as we do; put not vp your spirits

With these low trifles; nor our louing merits,

In gall of any hatefull purpose, sleepe;

But eate egregiously, and drinke as deepe.

The things thou thinkst on, all, at full shall be

By th’ Achiues thought on, and performd to thee:

Ship, and choise Oares, that in a trice will land

Thy hastie Fleete, on heau’nly Pylos sand;

And at the fame of thy illustrous Sire.

He answerd: [^DLPS42] Men whom Pride doth so inspire,

Are no fit consorts for an humble guest;

Nor are constraind men, merrie at their fea • t.

Is’t not enough, that all this time ye haue

Op’t in your entrailes, my chiefe goods a graue?

And while I was a child, made me partake?

My now more growth, more grown my mind doth make:

And (hearing speake, more iudging men then you)

Perceiue how much I was misgouernd now.

I now will trie, if I can bring ye home

An ill Fate to consort you; if it come

From Pylos, or amongst the people, here.

But thither I resolue; and know that there

I shall not touch in vaine. Nor will I stay,

Though in a merchants ship I • tere my way:

Which shewes in your sights best▪ since me ye know

Incapable of ship, or men to row.

This said; his hand he coily snatcht away

From forth Antinous hand. The rest, the day

Spent through the house with banquets; • ome with iests,

And some with railings, dignifying the • feasts.

To whom, a iest-proud youth, the wit began:

Telemachus will kill vs euery man.

From Sparta, or the very Pyltan sand,

He will raise aides to his impetuous hand. [^DLPS43]

O he affects it strangely! Or he meanes

To search Ephyras fat shores; and from thence

Bring deathfull poisons; which amongst our bow’ls

Will make a generall shipwracke of our soules.

Another said: Alas who knowes, but he

Once gone; and erring like his Sire at sea,

May perish like him, farre from aide of friends?

And so he makes vs worke; for all the ends

Left of his goods here, we shall share; the house

Left to his mother, and her chosen [illegible].

Thus they. While he a roome ascended, hie

And large, built by his Father; where did lie

Gold and brasse heapt vp; and in coffers were

Rich robes; great store of [gap in text]; and there

Stood Tuns of sweete old wines, along the wall;

Neate and diuine drinke, kept • o cheare withall

Vlysses old heart, if he turnd againe

From labors fatall to him to sustaine.

The doores of Planke were; their close exquisite,

Kept with a double key; and day and night

A woman lockt within; and that was she,

Who all trust had for her sufficiencie.

Old Euryclea, (one of Opis • ace,

Sonne to Pise • r, and in passing grace

With gray Miner • :) [^DLPS44] her, the Prince did call;

And said, Nurse! draw me the most sweete of all

The wine thou keepst; next that, which for my Sire,

Thy care reserues, in hope he shall retire.

Twelue vessels fill me forth, and stop them well.

Then into well-sewd sacks, of fine ground meale,

Powre twentie measures. No • to any one

But thou thy selfe, let this desig • e be knowne.

All this see got together; I, it all

In night will fetch off, when my mother shall

Ascend her high roome, and for • eepe prepare.

Sparta and Pylos, I must see, in care

To find my Father. Out Euryclea cried,

And askt with teares: [^DLPS45] Why is your mind applied

(Deare sonne) to this course? whither will you go?

So farre off leaue vs? and beloued so?

So onely? and the sole hope of your race?

Royall Vlysses, farre from the embrace

Of his kind countrie; in a land vnknowne

Is dead; and you (from your lou’d countrie go • e)

The wooers will with some deceit assay

To your destruction; making then their prey

Of all your goods. Where, in your owne y’ • re strong,

Make sure abode. It fits [illegible] you so yong,

To suffer so much by the aged feas,

And erre in such a waylesse wildernesse.

Be chear’d (lou’d nurse, [^DLPS46] said he) for not witho • t

The will of God, go my attempts about.

Sweare therefore, not to wound my mothers eares

With word of this; before from heauen appeares

Th’ele • enth or twelfth light; or her selfe shall please

To aske of me; or heares me put to seas;

Lest her faire bodie, with her woe • e wore.

To this, the great oath of the Gods, she swore;

Which, hauing sworne; and of it, euery due

Performd to full: to vessels, wine she drew;

And into well-sewd sacks powr’d foodie meale;

In meane time he (with cunning to conceale

All thought of this from others) himselfe bore

In broade house, with the wooers, as before.

Then grey-eyd Pallas, [^DLPS47] other thoughts did owne;

And (like Telemachus) trod through the Towne;

Commanding all his men, in th’euen to be

Aboord his ship. Againe then question’d she

Normon (fam’d for aged Phronius sonne)

About his ship; who, all things to be done,

Assur’d her freely should. The Sunne then set,

And sable shadowes slid through euery streete,

When forth they lancht; and soone aboord did bring

All Armes, and choice of euery needfull thing,

That fits a well-riggd ship. The Goddesse then

Stood in the Ports extreame part; where, her men

(Nobly appointed) thicke about her came,

Whose euery breast, she did with spirit enflame.

Yet still fresh proiects, laid the grey-eyd Dame.

Strait, to the house she hasted; and sweete sleepe

Powr’d on each wooer; which so laid in steepe

Their drowsie temples, that each brow did nod,

As all were drinking; and each hand his lode

(The cup) let fall. All start vp, and to bed;

Nor more would watch, when sleepe so surfeted

Their leaden ey-lids. Then did Pallas call

Telemachus, (in bodie, voice, and all

Resembling Mentor) from his natiue nest:

And said, that all his arm’d men were addrest

To vse their Oares; and all expected now

He should the spirit of a souldier show.

Come then (said she) no more let vs deferre

Our honor’d action. Then she tooke on her

A rauisht spirit, and led as she did leape;

And he her most haste, tooke out, step by step.

Arriu’d at sea, and ship; they found ashore

The souldiers, that their fashiond long haire wore;

To whom, [^DLPS48] the Prince said: Come, my friends; let’s bring

Our voyages prouision: euery thing

Is heapt together in our Court; and none

(No not my mother, nor her maids) but one

Knowes our intention. This exprest; he led;

The souldiers close together followed;

And all together brought aboord their store.

Aboord the Prince went; Pallas still before

Sat at the Sterne: he close to her; the men

Vp, hasted after. He, and Pallas then,

Put from the shore. His souldiers then he • ad

See all their Armes fit; which they heard; and had.

A beechen Mast then, [^DLPS49] in the hollow base

They put, and hoisted; fixt it in his place

With cables; and with well-wreath’d halsers hoise

Their white sailes; which gray Pallas now employes

With full and fore-gales, through the darke deep maine.

The purple waues (so swift cut) roar’d againe

Against the ship sides, [^DLPS50] that now ranne, and plowd

The rugged seas vp. Then the men bestowd

Their Armes about the ship; and sacrifice

With crownd wine cups, to th’endlesse Deities,

They offerd vp▪ Of all yet thron’d aboue,

They most obseru’d the grey-eyd seed of Ioue:

Who from the euening, till the morning rose,

And all day long, their voyage did dispose.

•

T He Sunne now left the great and goodly Lake,

And to the firme heau’n, bright ascent did make,

To shine as well vpon the mortall birth,

Inhabiting the plowd life-giuing earth,

As on the euer tredders vpon Death.

And now to Pylos, that so garnisheth

Her selfe with buildings; old Neleus towne,

The Prince and Goddesse come; had strange sights showne;

For on the Marine shore, the people there

To Neptune, that the Azure • ockes doth weare;

Be • ues that were wholy blacke, gaue holy flame.

Nine seates of State they made to his high name;

And euery Seate set with fiue hundred men;

And each fiue hundred, was to furnish then

With nine blacke Oxen, euery sacred Seate.

These, of the entrailes onely, pleasd to eate;

And to the God enflam’d the fleshie thies.

By this time Pallas, with the sparkling eies,

And he she led, within the ha • en bore:

Strooke saile, [^DLPS53] cast anchor, and trod both the shore.

She fi • st; he after. Then said Pallas: Now

No more befits thee the least bashfull brow;

Tembolde • which, this act is put on thee

To seeke thy Father, both at shore, and sea:

And learne in what Clime, he abides so close;

Or in the powre of what Fate doth repose.

Come then; go right to Nest • r; let vs see,

If in his bosome any counsell be,

That may informe vs. Pray him not to trace

The common courtship; and to speake in grace

Of the Demander; but to tell the truth:

Which will delight him; and commend thy youth

For such preuention; for he loues no lies;

Nor will report them, being truly wise.

He answerd: [^DLPS54] Me • t • r! how alas shall I

Present my selfe? how greete his grauitie?

My youth by no meanes that ripe forme affords,

That can digest my minds instinct, in words

Wise, and beseeming th’eares of one so sage.

Youth of most hope, blush to vse words with Age.

She said: Thy mind will some conceit impresse,

And something God will prompt thy towardnesse.

For I suppose, thy birth and breeding too,

Were not in spite of what the Gods could do.

This said, she swiftly went before, and he

Her steps made guides, and followd instantly.

When soone they reacht the Pyli • throngs and seates,

Where Nestor with his sonnes sate; and the meates

That for the feast seru’d; round about them were

Adherents dressing all their sacred cheare,

Being rost and boyld meates. When the Pylia • s saw

These strangers come: in thrust did all men draw

About their entrie. [^DLPS55] Tooke their hands, and praid

They both would sit. Their entrie first assaid

By Nestors sonne, Pisistratus. In grace

Of whose repaire, he gaue them honor’d place

Betwixt his Si • e, and brother Thrasi • d,

Who sate at feast, on soft Fels that were spred

Along the sea sands. Keru’d, and reacht to them

Parts of the inwards; and did make a streame

Of spritely wine, into a golden boule;

Which to Minerua, with a gentle soule

He gaue, and thus spake: Ere you eate, faire guest,

Inuoke the Seas King; [^DLPS56] of whose sacred feast,

Your trauell hither, makes ye partners now:

When (sacrificing, • s becomes) bestow

This boule of sweete wine on your friend, that he

May likewise vse these rites of pietie:

For I suppose, his youth doth prayers vse,

Since all men need the Gods. But you I chuse

First in this cups disposure; since his yeares

Seeme short of yours; who more like me appeares.

Thus gaue he her the cup of pleasant wine;

And since a wise and iust man did designe

The golden boule first to her free receit;

Euen to the Goddesse it did adde delight.

Who thus inuokt: Heare thou whose vast embrace

Enspheres the whole earth; nor disdaine thy grace [^DLPS57]

To vs that aske it, in performing this:

To Nestor first, and these faire sonnes of his,

Vo • chsafe all honor: and next them, bestow

On all these Pylia • s, that haue offer’d now

This most renowmed Hecatomb to thee,

Remuneration fit for them, and free;

And lastly daigne Telemachus, and me,

(The worke performd, for whose effect we came)

Our safe returne, both with our ship and fame.

Thus praid she; and her selfe, her selfe obaid;

In th’end performing all for which she praid.

And now to pray, and do as she had done;

She gaue the faire round boule t’ Vlysses sonne.

The meate then drest, and drawne, and seru’d t’each guest;

They celebrated a most sumptuous feast.

When (appetite to wine and food allaid)

Horse-taming Nestor [^DLPS58] then began, and said:

Now lifes desire is seru’d, as farre as fare;

Time fits me to enquire, what guests these are.

Faire guests, what are ye? and for what Coast tries

Your ship the moist deepes? For fit merchandize,

Or rudely coast ye, like our men of prize?

The rough seas tempting; desperatly erring

The ill of others, in their good conferring?

The wise Prince, now his boldnesse did begin;

For Pallas selfe had hardned him within;

By this deuice of trauell to explore

His absent Father; which two Girlonds wore;

His good, by manage of his spirits; and then

To gaine him high grace, in th’accounts of men.

O Nestor! [^DLPS59] still in whom [illegible] liues!

And all the glorie of the Greeks • uruiues;

You aske, from whence we are; and I relate:

From Ithaca (whose seate is sit • ate

Where Neius the renowmed Mountaine reares

His haughtie forehead; and the honor beares

To be our Sea-marke) wea • aid the waues;

The businesse I must tell; our owne good [illegible],

And not the publicke. I am come t’enquire,

If in the fame that best men doth inspire,

Of my most-suffering Father, I may heare

Some truth of his estate [gap in text]

The name (being ioynd in fight with you alone)

To euen with earth the height of [illegible] ▪

Of all men else, that any name did • eare,

And fought for Troy, the seuerall ends we heare;

But his death, Ioue keepes from the world vnknowne;

The certaine fame thereof, being told by none.

If on the Continent, by enemies slaine;

Or with the waues eat, of the rauenous Maine.

For his loue tis, that to your knees I sue;

That you would please, out of your owne cleare view,

T’assure his sad end; or say, if your eare

Hath heard of the vnhappie wanderer,

To too much sorrow, whom his mother bore.

You then, by all your bounties I implore,

(If euer to you, deed or word hath stood,

By my good Father promist, renderd good

Amongst the Troians; where ye both haue tried

The Grecian sufferance) that, in nought applied

To my respect or pitie, you will glose,

But vnclothd Truth, to my desi • es disclose.

O my much lou’d, [^DLPS60] (said he) since you renew

Remembrance of the miseries that grew

Vpon our still-in-strength-opposing Gr • ece,

Amongst Troys people; I must touch a p • ce

Of all our woes there; either in the m • n

Achilles brought by sea, and led to gaine

About the Country; or in vs that fought

About the Citie, where to death were b • ought

All our chiefe men, as many as were th • e.

There Mars- like Aiax lies; Achilles there;

There the-in-counsell-like-the Gods; his [^DLPS61] • riend;

There my deare sonne Antilochus [gap in text];

Past measure swift of foote, and staid in fight.

A number more, that ils felt infinite:

Of which to reckon all, what mortall man

(If fiue or sixe yeares you should stay here) can

Serue such enquirie? You would backe againe,

Affected with vnsufferable paine,

Before you heard it. Nine yeares siegd we them,

With all the depth and sleight of stratagem

That could be thought. Ill knit to ill, past end:

Yet still they toild vs: nor would yet Ioue send

Rest to our labors: nor will scarcely yet.

But no man liu’d, that would in publicke set

His wisedome, by Vlysses policie,

(As thought his equall) so excessiuely

He stood superiour all wayes. If you be

His sonne indeed; mine eyes euen rauish me

To admiration. And in all consent,

Your speech puts on his speeches ornament.

Nor would one say, that one so yong could vse

(Vnlesse his sonne) a Rhetorique so profuse.

And while we liu’d together; he and I

Neuer in speech maintaind diuersitie:

Nor set in counsell: but (by one soule led)

With spirit and prudent counsell furnished

The Greeks at all houres: that with fairest course,

What best became them, they might put in force.

But when Troys high Towres, we had leueld thus;

We put to sea; and God diuided vs.

And then did Ioue, our sad retreat deuise;

For all the Greeks were neither iust nor wise;

And therefore many felt so sharpe a-fate;

Sent from Mineruas most pernicious hate;

Whose mightie Father can do fearfull things.

By whose helpe she, betwixt the brother Kings

Let fall Contention: [^DLPS62] who in councell met

In vaine, and timelesse; when the Sunne was set;

And all the Greeks calld; that came chargd with wine.

Yet then the Kings would vtter their designe;

And why they summond. Menelaus, he

Put all in mind of home; and cried, To sea.

But Agam • mnon stood on contraries;

Whose will was, they should stay and sacrifise

Whole Hecatombs to Pallas; to forgo

Her high wrath to them. Foole, that did not know

She would not so be wonne: for not with ease

Th’eternall Gods are turnd from what they please.

So they (diuided) on foule language stood.

The Greekes, in huge rout rose: their wine-heate bloud,

Two wayes affecting. And that nights sleepe too,

We turnd to studying either others wo.

When Ioue besides, made readie woes enow.

Mone came, we lancht; and in our ships did stow

Our goods, [^DLPS63] and faire-girt women. Halfe our men

The peoples guide (Atrides) did containe;

And halfe (being now aboord) put forth to • ea.

A most free gale gaue all ships prosperous way.

God settld then the huge whale-bearing lake;

And Tenedos we reacht; where, for times sake,

We did diuine rites to the Gods: but I • ue

(Inexorable still) bore yet no • oue

To our returne; but did againe excite

A second sad Contention, that turnd quite

A great part of vs backe to sea againe;

Which were, th’abundant in all counsels men,

(Your matchlesse Father) who, (to gratifie

The great Atrides) backe to him did flie.

But I fled all, with all that followd me;

Because I knew, God studied miserie,

To hurle amongst vs. With me likewise fled

Martiall Tidides. I, the men he led,

Gat to go with him. Winds our fleete did bring

To Lesbos, where the yellow-headed King

(Though late, yet) found vs: as we put to choise

A tedious voyage; if we saile should hoise •

Aboue rough Chi • s (left on our left hand)

To th’Ile of Psiria; or that rugged land

Saile vnder; and for windie [illegible] stere.

We askt of God, that some oftent might cleare

Our cloudie businesse: who gaue vs • igne,

And charge, that all should (in a middle line)

The sea cut, for Eub • ea; that with speed,

Our long-sustaind infortune might be freed.

Then did a whistling wind begin to rise,

And swiftly flew we through the fishie skies,

Till to Ger • stus we, in night were brought;

Where (through the broad sea, since we safe had wrought)

At Neptunes altars, many solid Thies

Of slaughterd buls, we burnd for sacrifise.

The fourth day came, when Tyd • sonne did greete

The hauen of Arg • s, with his complete Fleete.

But I, for Pyl • s strait ster’d on my course,

Nor euer left the wind his fore right force,

Since God fore-sent it first. And thus I came

(Deare sonne) to Pyols, vninformd by fame;

Nor know one sau’d by Fate, or ouercome.

Whom I haue heard of since (set here [illegible] home)

As fits, thou shalt be taught, nought left vnshowne.

The expert speare-men; euery My • midon,

(Led by the braue heire of the mightie sould

Vnpeerd Achilles) safe of home got hold.

Safe Philoctetes, Paeans famous seed:

And safe Idomen • eus; his men led

To his home, (Crete;) who fled the armed field;

Of whom, yet none, the sea from him withheld.

Atrides (you haue both heard, though ye be

His farre off dwellers) what an end had he,

Done by Aegisthus, to a bitter death;

Who miserably paid for forced breath;

Atrides leauing a good sonne, that dide

In bloud of that deceitfull parricide

His wreakfull sword. And thou my friend (as he

For this hath his fame) the like spirit in thee

Assume at all parts. Faire, and great I see

Thou art, in all hope; make it good to th’end;

That after-times, as much may thee commend.

He answerd: [^DLPS64] O thou greate • t grace of Greece;

Orestes made that wreake, his master peece;

And him the Greeks will giue, a master praise;

Ve • se finding him, to last all after daies.

And would to God, the Gods would fauour me

With his performance; that my iniurie,

Done by my mothers wooers, (being so foule)

I might reuenge vpon their euery soule.

Who (pressing me with contumelies) dare

Such things as past the powre of vtt • rance are.

But heauens great Powres, haue grac’ • my destinie

With no such honor. Both my Sire and I,

Are borne to suffer euerlastingly.

Because you name those wooers (Friend, said he) [^DLPS65]

Report sayes, many such, in spite of thee,

(Wooing thy mother) in thy house commit

The ils thou nam’st. But say; proceedeth it

From will in thee, to beare so foule a foile;

Or from thy subiects hate, that wish thy spoile?

And will not aide thee, since their spirits relie

(Against thy rule) on some graue Augurie?

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 Minerua now did so esteeme

Thee, as thy Father, in times past; whom, past

All measure, she, with glorious fauours grac’t

Amongst the Troi • ns, where we suffered so;

(O! I did neuer see, in such cleare show,

The Gods so grace a man, as she to him,

To all our eyes, appeard in all her t • im)

If so, I say, she would be pleasd to loue,

And that her minds care, thou so much couldst mo • e,

As did thy Father; euery man of these,

Would lose in death their seeking mariages.

O Father, [^DLPS66] (answerd he) you make amaze

Seise me throughout. Beyond the height of phrase

You raise expression; but twill neuer be▪

That I shall moue, in any Deitie,

So blest an honour. Not by any meanes,

If Hope should prompt me, o • blind Confidence,

(The God of Fooles), or euery Deitie

Should will it; for, tis past my destinie.

The burning-eyd Dame answerd: [^DLPS67] What a speech

Hath past the teeth-guard, Nature gaue to teach

Fit question of thy words before they flie?

God easily can (when to a mortall eie

Hee’s furthest off) a mortall satisfie: [^DLPS68]

And does, the more still. For thy car’d for Sire;

I rather wish, that I might home retire,

After my sufferance of a world of woes;

Farre off; and then my glad eyes might disclose

The day of my returne; then strait retire,

And perish standing by my houshold fire.

As Agamemnon did; that lost his life,

By false Aegisthus, and his falser wife.

For Death to come at length, tis due to all;

Nor can the Gods themselues, when Fate shall call

Their most lou’d man, extend his vitall breath

Beyond the fixt bounds of abhorred Death.

Mentor! [^DLPS69] (said he) let’s dwell no more on this,

Although in vs, the sorrow pious is.

No such returne, as we wish, Fates bequeath

My erring Father; whom a present death,

The deathlesse haue decreed. Ile now vse speech

That tends to other purpose; and beseech

Instruction of graue Nestor; since he flowes

Past shore, in all experience; and knowes

The sleights and wisedomes; to whose heights aspire

Others, as well as my commended Sire;

Whom Fame reports to haue commanded three

Ages of men: and doth in sight to me

Shew like th’Immortals. Nestor! the renowne

Of old Neleius; make the cleare truth knowne,

How the most great in Empire, Atreus sonne,

Sustaind the act of his destruction.

Where then was Menelaus? how was it,

That false Aegisthus, being so farre vnfit

A match for him, could his death so enforce?

Was he not then in Argos? or his course

With men so left, to let a coward breathe

Spirit enough, to dare his brothers death?

Ile tell thee truth in all (faire sonne) said he:

Right well was this euent conceiu’d by thee.

If Menelaus in his brothers house, [^DLPS70]

Had found the idle liuer with his spouse,

(Arriu’d from Troy) he had not liu’d; nor dead

Had the diggd heape powrd on his lustfull head:

But fowles and dogs had torne him in the fields,

Farre off of Argos. Not a Dame it yeelds;

Had giuen him any teare; so foule his fact

Shewd euen to women. Vs Troys warres had rackt

To euery sinewes sufferance; while [^DLPS71] he

In Argos vplands liu’d; from those workes free.

And Agamemnons wife, with force of word

Flatterd and softn’d; who, at first abhord

A fact so infamous. The heau’nly Dame,

A good mind had; but was in blood too blame.

There was a [^DLPS72] Poet, to whose care, the King

His Queene committed; and in euery thing

(When he for Troy went) charg’d him to apply

Himselfe in all guard to her dignitie.

But when strong Fate, so wrapt-in her affects,

That she resolu’d to leaue her fit respects;

Into a desart Ile, her Guardian led,

(There left) the rapine of the Vultures fed.

Then brought he willing home his wills wonne prize;

On sacred Altars offerd many Thies▪

Hung in the Gods Phanes many ornaments;

Garments and gold; that he the vast euents

Of such a labor, to his wish had brought,

As neither fell into his hope, nor thought.

At last, from Troy saild Spartas king and I,

Both, holding her vntoucht. And (that his eie

Might see no worse of her) when both were blowne

To sacred Sunius (of Mineruas towne

The goodly Promontorie) with his shafts seuere

Augur Apollo slue him that did stere

Atrides ship, as he the sterne did guide,

And she the full speed of her saile applide.

He was a man, that nations of men

Exceld in safe guide of a vessell; when

A tempest rusht in on the ruffld seas:

His name was Phrontis Onetorides.

And thus was Menelaus held from home,

Whose way he thirsted so to ouercome;

To giue his friend the earth, being his pursuite,

And all his exequies to execute.

But sailing still the [^DLPS73] wind-hewd seas, to reach

Some shore for fit perform • ce; he did fetch

The steepe Mount of the Mali • s; and there

With open voice, offended I • piter,

Proclaimd the voyage, his repugnant mind;

And powr’d the puffes out of a shreeking wind,

That nourisht billowes, heightned like to hils.

And with the Fleets diuision, fulfils

His hate proclaimd; vpon a part of Cr • te

Casting the Nauie; where the • ea-wa • es meete

Rough I • rdanus; and where the Cyd • s liue.

There is a Rocke, on which the Sea doth driue;

Bare, and all broken; on the confines set

Of • ortys; that the darke seas likewise fret;

And hither sent the South, a horrid drift

Of wanes against the top, that was the left

Of that torne cliffe; as farre as Phast • Sttand.

A litle stone, the great • eas rage did stand.

The men here driuen, scapt hard the ships so • e shocks;

The ships themselues being wrackt against the rocks;

Saue onely fiue, that blue fore-castles bo • e,

Which wind and water cast on Aegyp • s shore.

When he (there victling well, and store of gold

Aboord his ships brought) his wilde way did • old,

And t’other languag’d men, was forc’t to rome.

Meane space Aegisthus made sad worke at home;

And slue his brother; forcing to his sway,

Atrides subiects; [^DLPS74] and did seuen yeares lay

His yoke vpon the rich Myce • State.

But in the eight, (to his affrighting fat • )

Diuine Orest • s home from Athe • s came; [^DLPS75]

And what his royall Father felt, the same

He made the false Aegisthus grone beneath:

Death euermore is the reward of Death.

Thus hauing slaine him; a sepulchrall feast

He made the Argiues, for his lustfull guest,

And for his mother, whom he did de • est.

The selfe-same day, vpon him stole the King,

(Good at a martiall shout) and goods did bring▪

As many as his freighted Fleete could beare.

But thou (my sonne) too long, by no meanes erre,

Thy goods left free for many a spoilfull guest;

Lest they consume some, and diuide the rest;

And thou (perhaps besides) thy voyage lose.

To Menelaus yet thy course dispose,

I wish and charge thee; who but late arriu’d,

From such a shore, and men; as to haue liu’d

In a returne from them; he neuer thought;

And whom, blacke whirlwinds violently brought

Within a sea so vast, that in a yeare

Not any fowle could passe it any where,

So huge and horrid was it. But go thou

With ship and men (or if thou pleasest now

To passe by land, there shall be brought for thee

Both horse and chariot; and thy guides shall be

My sonnes themselues) to Sparta, the diuine,

And to the King, whose locks like▪ Ambe • shine.

Intreate the truth of him; nor loues he lies;

Wisedome in truth is; and hee’s passing wise.

This said, the Sunne went downe, and vp rose Night,

When Pallas spake; [^DLPS76] O Father, all good right

Beare thy directions. But diuide we now

The sacrifises tongues; mixe wine; and vow

To Neptune, and the other euer blest;

That hauing sacrifisd, we may to rest.

The fit houre runnes now; light diues ou • of date;

At sacred feasts, we must not sit too late.

She said: They heard; the Herald water gaue;

The youths crownd cups with wine; and let all haue

Their equall shares; beginning from the cup,

Their parting banquet. All the Tongues cut vp;

The fire they gaue them; sacrifisde, and rose;

Wine, and diuine rites, vsde to each dispose;

Minerua and Telemachus desirde

They might to ship be, with his leaue, retirde.

He (mou’d with that) prouokt thus their abodes:

Now Ioue forbid, and all the long-liu’d Gods,

Your leauing me, to sleepe aboord a ship:

As I had drunke of poore Penias whip,

Euen to my nakednesse; and had nor sheete,

Nor couering in my house; that warme nor swe • e.

A guest, nor I my selfe, had meanes to sleepe;

Where I, both weeds and wealthy couerings keepe

For all my guests: nor shall Fame euer say,

The deare sonne of the man Vlysses, lay

All night a ship boord here; while my dayes shine;

Or in my Court, whiles any sonne of mine

Enioyes suruiuall: who shall guests receiue,

Whom euer, my house hath a nooke to leaue.

My much lou’d Father, (said Minerua) well

All this becomes thee. But perswade to dwell

This night with thee thy sonne Telemachus;

For more conuenient is the cou • se for vs,

That he may follow to thy house, and rest.

And I may boord our blacke saile; that addrest

At all parts I may make our men; and cheare

All with my presence; since of all men there

I boast my selfe the senior; th’o • hers are

Youths, that attend in free and friendly care,

Great-sould Telem • chus; and are his peeres,

In fresh similitude of forme and yeeres.

For their confirmance, I will therefore now

Sleepe in our blacke Barke. But when Light shall shew

Her siluer forehead; I intend my way

Amongst the Cauco • s; men that are to pay▪

A debt to me, nor small, nor new. For this,

Take you him home; whom in the morne dismisse,

With chariot and your sonnes; and giue him ho • se

Ablest in strength, and of the speediest course.

This said; [^DLPS77] away she flew; formd like the fowle

Men call the Os • ifrage; when euery soule

Amaze inuaded: [^DLPS78] euen th’old man admir’d;

The youths hand tooke, and said: O most desir’d;

My hope sayes, thy proofe will no coward show,

Nor one vnskild in warre; when Deities now

So yong attend thee, and become thy guides:

Nor any of the heauen-housde States besides;

But Tritogenias selfe; the seed of Ioue;

The great in prey; that did in honor moue▪

So much about thy Father; amongst all

The Grecian armie. Fairest Queene, let fall

On me like fauours: giue me good renowne;

Which, as on me; on my lou’d wife, let downe,

And all my children. I will burne to thee

An Oxe right bred, brode headed, and yoke-free,

To no mans hand yet humbled. Him will I

(His hornes in gold hid) giue thy Deitie.

Thus praid he; and she heard; and home he led

His sonnes, and all his heap • s of kindered;

Who entring his Court royall; euery one

He marshald in his seuerall seate and throne.

And euery one, so kindly come, he gaue

His sweet-wine cup; which none was let to haue

Before this leuenth yeare, landed him from Troy;

Which now the Butleresse had leaue t’employ.

Who therefore pierst it, and did giue it vent.

Of this, the old Duke did a cup present

To euery guest: made his maid many a praire

That weares the Shield fring’d with his nurses haire;

And gaue her sacrifise. With this rich wine

And food suffisde, Sleepe, all eyes did decline.

And all for home went: but his Court alone,

Telemachus, diuine Vlysses sonne,

Must make his lodging, or not please his heart.

A bed, all chequerd with elaborate Art,

Within a Portico, that rung like brasse,

He brought his guest to; and his bedfere was

Pisistratus, the martiall guide of men,

That liu’d, of all his sonnes, vnwed till then.

Himselfe lay in a by-roome, farre aboue,

His bed made by his barren wife, his loue.

The rosie-fingerd morne, no sooner shone,

But vp he rose, tooke aire, and sat vpon

A seate of white, and goodly polisht stone,

That such a glosse as richest ointments wore

Before his high gates; where the Counsellor

That matcht the Gods (his Father) vsde to sit:

Who now (by Fate forc’t) stoopt as low as it.

And here sate Nestor, holding in his hand

A Scepter; and about him round did stand

(As early vp) his sonnes troope; Perseus,

The God-like Thrasimed, and [illegible],

Ec • ephron, Stratius; the sixt and last

Pisistratus; and by him (halfe emb • ac’t

Still as they came) diuine Telemachus;

To these spake Nestor, old Gerenius:

Haste (loued sonnes) and do me a desire, [^DLPS79]

That (first of all the Gods) I may aspire

To Pallas fauour; who vouchsaft to me,

At Neptunes feast, her sight so openly.

Let one to field go; and an Oxe with speed

Cause hither brought; which, let the Heardsman leade;

Another to my deare guests vessell go,

And all his souldiers bring, saue onely two.

A third, the Smith that works in gold, command

(Laertius) to attend; and lend his hand,

To plate the both hornes round about with gold▪

The rest remaine here close. But first, see told

The maids within, that they prepare a feast;

Set • eates through all the Court: see strait addrest

The purest water; and get fuell feld.

This said; not one, but in the seruice held

Officious hand. The Oxe came led from field;

The Souldiers troopt from ship; [^DLPS80] the Smith he came,

And those tooles brought, that seru’d the actuall frame,

His Art conceiu’d; brought Anvile, hammers brought,

Faire tongs, and all, with which the gold was wrought.

Minerua likewise came, to set the Crowne

On that kind sacrifice, and mak’t her owne.

Then th’old Knight Nestor gaue the Smith the gold,

With which he strait did both the hornes infold;

And trimm’d the Offering so, the Goddesse ioyd.

About which, thus were Nestors sonnes employd:

Diuine Echephron, and faire Stratius,

Held both the hornes: the water odorous,

In which they washt, what to the rites was vowd,

Aretus (in a caldron, all bestrowd

With herbes and flowres) seru’d in from th’holy roome

Where all were drest; and whence the rites must come.

And after him, a hallowd virgin came,

That brought the barley cake, and blew the flame.

The axe, with which the Oxe should both be feld

And cut forth, Thrasimed stood by▪ and held.

Perseus the ves • ell held, that should retaine

The purple licour of the offering slaine.

Then washt, the pious Father: then the Cake

(Of barley, salt, and oile made) tooke, and brake.

Askt many a boone of Pallas; and the state

Of all the offering, did initiate.

In three parts cutting off the haire, and cast

Amidst the flame. All th’inuocation past,

And all the Cake broke; manly Thr • simed

Stood neare, and sure; and such a blow he laid

Aloft the offring; that to earth he sunke,

His neck-nerues sunderd, and his spirits shrunke.

Ou • iekt the daughters, daughter in lawes, and wife

Of three-ag’d Nestor, (who had eldest life

Of Clymens daughters) chast Eurydice.

The Oxe on broad earth, then layd laterally,

They held, while Duke Pisi • tr • tus, the throte

Dissolu’d and set, the sable blood afflo • e;

And then the life the bones left. Instantly

They cut him vp; apart flew either Thie;

That with the fat they dubd, with art alone;

The throte-briske, and the sweet-bread pricking on.

Then Nestor broild them on the cole-turnd wood,

Powr’d blacke wine on; and by him yong men stood,

That spits fine-pointed held, on which (when burnd

The solid Thies were) they transfixt, and turnd

The inwards, cut in cantles: which (the meate

Vowd to the Gods, consum’d) they rost and eate.

In meane space, Polycaste (calld the faire,

Nestors yongst daughter) bath’d Vlysses heire;

Whom, hauing cleansd, and with rich balmes bespred;

She cast a white shirt quickly o’re his head,

And then his weeds put on; when, forth he went,

And did the person of a God present.

Came, and by Nestor tooke his honourd seate,

This pastor of the people. Then, the meate

Of all the spare parts rosted; off they drew;

Sate, and fell to. But soone the temperate few,

Rose, and in golden bolles, filld others wine.

Till, when the rest felt thirst of feast decline;

Nestor his sonnes bad, fetch his high-man’d horse,

And them in chariot ioyne, to runne the course

The Prince resolu’d. Obaid, as soone as heard

Was Nestor by his sonnes; who strait prepar’d

Both horse and chariot. She that kept the store,

Both bread and wine, and all such viands more,

As should the feast of Ioue -fed Kings compose;

Pouruaid the voyage. To the rich Coach, rose

Vlysses sonne; [^DLPS81] and close to him ascended

The Duke Pisistratus; the reines intended,

And scourg’d, to force to field, who freely flew;

And left the Towne, that farre her splendor threw.

Both holding yoke, and shooke it all the day;

But now the Sunne set, darkning euery way,

When they to Pheris came; and in the house

Of Diocles (the sonne t’ Ortiloc • us,

Whom flood Alpheus got) slept all that night:

Who gaue them each due hospitable rite.

But when the rosie-fingerd morne arose,

They went to Coach, and did their horse inclose;

Draue forth the fore-court, and the porch that yeelds

Each breath a sound; and to the fruitfull fields

Rode scourging still their willing flying Steeds;

Who strenuously performd their wonted speeds.

Their iourney ending iust when Sunne went downe;

And shadowes all wayes through the earth were throwne.

I N Laced • now, [^DLPS83] the nurse of Whales,

These two arriu’d, and found at festiuals

(With mightie concourse) the renowmed King,

His sonne and daughter, ioyntly marrying.

Alectors daughter, he did giue his sonne

Strong [illegible]; who his life begunne

By Menelaus bo • dmaid; whom he knew

In yeares. When Hellen could no more renew

In issue like diuine [illegible];

Who held in all faire forme, as high degree

As golden Venus. Her he married now

To great Achilles sonne; who was by vow

Betrothd to her at Tr • y. And thus the Gods

To constant loues, giue nuptiall periods.

Whose state here past, the Myrmid • ns rich towne

(Of which she shar’d in the Imperiall Crowne)

With horse and chariots he resign’d her to.

Meane space, the high huge house, with feast did flow

Of friends and neighbours, ioying with the King.

Amongst whom, did a heauenly Poet sing,

And touch his Harpe. Amongst whom likewise danc’t

Two; who in that dumbe motion aduanc’t,

Would prompt [^DLPS84] the Singer, what to sing and play.

All this time, in the vtter Court did stay,

With horse and chariot, Telemachus,

And Nestors noble sonne, Pisistratus.

Whom Eteoneus coming forth, descried,

And, being a seruant to the King, most tried

In care, and his respect; he ranne and cried:

Guests! Ioue -kept Menelaus! two such men,

As are for forme, of high Saturnius straine.

Informe your pleasure, if we shall vnclose

Their horse from coach; or say, they must dispose

Their way to some such house, as may embrace

Their knowne arriuall, with more welcome grace?

He (angry) answerd, Thou didst neuer show

Thy selfe a foole (Beotides) till now; [^DLPS85]

But now (as if turnd child) a childish speech

Vents thy vaine spirits. We our selues now reach

Our home, by much spent hospitalitie

Of other men; nor know, if Ioue will trie,

With other after wants, our state againe:

And therefore, from our feast, no more detaine

Those welcome guests; but take their Steeds from Coach,

And with attendance guide in their approach.

This said, he rusht abroad, and calld some more

Tried in such seruice; that together bore

Vp to the guests: and tooke their Steeds that swet

Beneath their yokes, from Coach. At mangers set,

Wheate and white barley gaue them mixt; and plac’t

Their Chariot by a wall so cleare, it cast

A light quite thorough it. And then they led

Their guests to the diuine house; which so fed

Their eyes at all parts with illustrous sights,

That Admiration seisd them. Like the lights

The Sunne and Moone gaue; all the Pallace threw

A luster through it. Satiate with whose view,

Downe to the Kings most bright-kept Baths, they went;

Where handmaids did their seruices present:

Bath’d, balmd them; shirts, and well-napt weeds put on,

And by Atrides side, set each his throne.

Then did the handmaid royall, water bring,

And to a Lauer, rich and glittering,

Of massie gold, powr’d: which she plac’t vpon

A siluer Caldron; into which, might runne

The water as they washt. Then set she neare

A polisht table; on which, all the cheare

The present could affoord; a reuerend Dame

That kept the Larder, set. A Cooke then came,

And diuers dishes, borne thence, seru’d againe;

Furnisht the boord with bolles of gold; and then

(His right hand giuen the guests) Atrides said,

Eate, and be chearfull; appetite allaid,

I long to aske, of what stocke ye descend;

For not from parents, whose race namelesse end,

We must deriue your ofspring. Men obscure,

Could get none such as you. The pourtraiture

Of Ioue -sustaind, and Scepter-bearing Kings,

Your either person, in his presence brings.

An Oxes fat chine, then they vp did lift,

And set before the guests; which was a gift,

Sent as an honor, to the Kings owne tast.

They saw yet, twas but to be eaten plac’t,

And fell to it. But food and wines care past,

Telemachus thus prompted Nestors sonne;

(His eare close laying, to be heard of none)

Consider (thou whom most my mind esteemes)

The brasse-worke here, [^DLPS86] how rich it is in beames;

And how besides, it makes the whole house sound?

What gold, and amber, siluer, ivorie, round

Is wrought about it. Our of doubt, the Hall

Of Iupiter Olympius, hath of all

This state, the like. How many infinites,

Take vp to admiration, all mens sights?

Atrides ouer-heard; and said; Lou’d sonne,

No mortall must affect contention

With Ioue, [^DLPS87] whose dwellings are of endlesse date.

Perhaps (of men) some one may emulate,

(Or none) my house, or me. For I am one,

That many a graue extreme haue vndergone.

Much error felt by sea; and till th • eight yeare,

Had neuer stay; but wanderd farre and neare,

Cyprus, Phoenicia, and Syd • nia;

And fetcht the farre off Aethiopia:

Reacht the Erembi of Arabia;

And Lybia, where, with hornes, Ewes yeane their Lambs:

Where euery full yeare, Ewes are three times dams.

Where neither King, nor shepheard; want comes neare

Of cheese, or flesh, or sweete milke. All the yeare

They euer milke their Ewes. And here while I

Errd, gathering meanes to liue: one, murtherously,

Vnwares, vnseene, bereft my brothers life;

Chiefly betraid by his abhorred wife.

So, hold I, (not enioying) what you see.

And of your Fathers (if they liuing be)

You must haue heard this: since my suffrings were

So great and famous. From this Pallace here,

(So rarely-well-built; furnished so well;

And substanced with such a precio • s deale

Of well-got treasure) banisht by the doome

Of Fate; and erring as I had no home.

And now I haue, and vse it; not to take

Th’entire delight it offers; but to make

Continuall wishes, that a triple part

Of all it holds, were wanting; so my heart

Were easde of sorrowes (taken for their deaths

That fell at Troy) by their reuiued breaths.

And thus sit I here, weeping, mourning still

Each least man lost; and sometimes make mine ill

(In paying iust teares for their losse) my ioy.

Sometimes I breathe my woes; for in annoy▪

The pleasure soone admits satietie.

But all these mens wants, wet not so mine eie,

(Though much they moue me) as one sole mans misse;

For which, my sleepe and meate euen lothsome is,

In his renewd thought; since no Greeke hath wonne

Grace, for such labours, as [^DLPS88] La • rtes sonne

Hath wrought and sufferd: to himselfe, nought else

But future sorrowes forging: to me, hels

For his long absence; since I cannot know

If life or death detaine him: since such woe

For his loue, old Laertes, his wise wife,

And poore yong sonne sustaines; whom new with life,

He left as sirelesse. This speech; griefe to teares

(Powrd from the sonnes lids on the earth) his eares

(Told of the Father) did excite; who kept

His cheekes drie with his red weed, as he wept:

His both hands vsde therein. Atrides then

Began to know him; and did [illegible] retaine,

If he should let, himselfe confesse his Sire,

Or with all fitting circumstance, enquire.

While this, his thoughts disputed; forth did shine,

(Like to the golden [^DLPS89] distaffe-deckt diuine)

From her beds high and odoriferous roome,

Hellen. To whom (of an elaborate loome)

Adresta set a chaire: Alcyppe brought

A peece of Tapestrie, of fine wooll wrought.

Philo, a siluer Cabinet conferd:

(Giuen by Alcandra, Nuptially endeard

To Lord Polybius; whose abode in Thebes,

Th’Aegyptian citie was;) where wealth in heapes,

His famous house held: out of which did go

In gift t’ Atrides, siluer bath-tubs two;

Two Tripods; and of fine gold, talents ten.

His wife did likewise send to Hellen then,

Faire gifts; a Distaffe that of gold was wrought;

And that rich Cabinet that Phyl • brought;

Round, and with gold ribd; now of fine thred, full:

On which extended (crownd with finest wooll,

Of violet glosse) the golden Distaffe lay.

She tooke her State-chaire; and a foot-stoo • s stay

Had for her feete: and of her husband, thus

Askt to know all things: Is it knowne to vs,

(King Menelaus) [^DLPS90] whom these men commend

Themselues for; that our Court, now takes to friend?

I must affirme, (be I deceiu’d or no)

I neuer yet saw man nor woman so

Like one another, as this man is like

Vlysses sonne. With admiration str • ke

His lookes, my thoughts; that they should carrie now

Powre to perswade me thus; who did but know,

When newly he was borne, the forme they bore.

But tis his Fathers grace; whom more and more

His grace resembles; that makes meretaine

Thought, that he now, is like Telemachus then:

Left by his Sire, when Greece did vndertake

Troys bold warre, for my impudencies sake.

He answerd: Now wife, what you thinke, I know,

The true cast of his Fathers eye, doth show

In his eyes order. Both his head and haire,

His hands and feete, his very fathers are.

Of whom (so well rememberd) I should now

Acknowledge for me, his continuall flow

Of cares and perils: yet still patient.

But I should too much moue him, that doth vent

Such bitter teares for that which hath bene spoke;

Which (shunning soft shew) see how he would cloke;

And with his purple weed, his weepings hide.

Then Nestors sonne, Pisistratus replide:

Great Pastor of the people, kept of God!

He is Vlysses sonne; [^DLPS91] but his abode

Not made before here; and he modest too;

He holds it an indignitie to do

A deed so vaine, to vse the boast of words,

Where your words are on wing; whose voice affords

Delight to vs, as if a God did breake

The aire amongst vs, and vouchsafe to speake.

But me, my father (old Duke Nestor) sent

To be his consort hither; his content,

Not to be height • d so, as with your sight.

In hope that therewith words and actions might

Informe his comforts from you; since he is

Extrernely grieu’d and iniu • ’d, by the misse

Of his great Father; suffering euen at home.

And few friends found, to helpe him ouercome

His too weake sufferance, now his Sire is gone.

Amongst the people, not affoorded one

To checke the miseries, that mate him thus;

And this the state is of Telemachus. [^DLPS92]

O Gods (said he) how certaine, now, I see

My house enioyes that friends sonne, that for me

Hath vndergone so many willing fights?

Whom I resolu’d, past all the Grecian Knights,

To hold in loue; if our returne by seas,

The farre-off Thunderer did euer please

To grant our wishes. And to his respect,

A Pallace and a Citie to erect,

My vow had bound me. Whither bringing then

His riches, and his sonne, and all his men

From barren Ithaca, (some one sole Towne

Inhabited about him, batterd downe)

All should in Argos liue. And there would I

Ease him of rule; and take the Emperie

Of all on me. And often here would we

(Delighting, louing eithers companie)

Meete and conuerse; whom nothing should diuide,

Till deaths blacke veile did each all ouer hide.

But this perhaps had ben • a meane to take

Euen God himselfe with enuie; who did make

Vlysses therefore onely the vnblest,

That should not reach his loued countries rest.

These woes made euery one with woe in loue;

Euen Argiue Hellen wept, (the seed of Ioue)

Vlysses sonne wept; Atreus [^DLPS93] sonne did weepe;

And Nestors sonne, his eyes in teares did steepe.

But his teares fell not from the present cloud,

That from Vlysses was exhal’d; but flowd

From braue Antilochus rememberd due,

Whom the renowmd [^DLPS94] Sonne of the Morning slue.

Which yet he thus excusde: O Atreus sonne!

Old Nestor sayes, There liues not such a one

Amongst all mortals, as Atrides is,

For deathlesse wisedome. Tis a praise of his,

Still giuen in your remembrance; when at home

Our speech concernes you. Since then ouercome

You please to be, with sorrow euen to teares,

That are in wisedome so exempt from peres;

Vouchsafe the like effect in me excuse,

(If it be lawfull) I affect no vse

Of teares thus, after meales; at least, at night:

But when the morne brings forth, with teares, her light,

It shall not then empaire me to bestow

My teares on any worthies ouerthrow.

It is the onely right, that wretched men

Can do dead friends; to cut haire, and complaine.

But Death my brother tooke; whom none could call

The Grecian coward; you best knew of all.

I was not there, nor saw; but men report,

Antilochus exceld the common sort,

For footmanship, or for the Chariot race;

Or in the fight, for hardie hold of place.

O friend (said he) since thou hast spoken so,

At all parts, as one wise should say and do;

And like one, farre beyond thy selfe in yeares;

Thy words shall bounds be, to our former teares.

O he is questionlesse a right borne sonne,

That of his Father hath not onely wonne

The person, but the wisedome; and that Sire;

(Complete himselfe) that hath a sonne entire,

Ioue did not onely his full Fate adorne,

When he was wedded; but when he was borne.

As now Saturnius, through his lifes whole date,

Hath Nestors blisse raisd to as steepe a state:

Both in his age to keepe in peace his house;

And to haue children wise and valorous.

But let vs not forget our rere Feast thus;

Let some giue water here. Telemachus!

The morning shall yeeld time to you and me,

To do what fits; and reason mutually.

This said; the carefull seruant of the King;

(Asphalion) powr’d on, th’issue of the Spring;

And all to readie feast, set readie hand.

But Hellen now, [^DLPS95] on new deuice did stand;

Infusing strait a medcine to their wine,

That (drowning Cares and Angers) did decline

All thought of ill. Who drunke her cup, could shed

All that day, not a teare; no not if dead

That day his father or his mother were;

Not if his brother, child, or chiefest deare,

He should see murtherd then before his face.

Such vsefull medcines (onely borne in grace,

Of what was good) would Hellen euer haue.

And this Iuyce to her, Polydamma gaue

The wife of Thoon; an Aegyptian borne;

Whose rich earth, herbes of medicine do adorne

In great abundance. Many healthfull are,

And many banefull. Euery man is there

A good Physition, out of natures grace;

For all the nation sprung of Paeons race.

When Hellen [^DLPS96] then her medicine had infusde,

She bad powre wine to it, and this speech vsde:

Atrides, and these good mens sonnes; great Ioue

Makes good and ill, one after other moue

In all things earthly: for he can do all.

The woes past therefore, he so late let fall;

The comforts he affoords vs, let vs take;

Feast, and with fit discourses, merrie make.

Nor will I other vse. As then our blood

Grieu’d for Vlysses, since he was so good;

Since he was good, let vs delight to heare

How good he was, and what his suffrings were.

Though euery fight, and euery suffring deed,

Patient Vlysses vnderwent; exceed

My womans powre to number, or to name.

But what he did, and sufferd, when he came

Amongst the Troians, (where ye Grecians all

Tooke part with sufferance) I in part can call

To your kind memories. How with ghastly wounds

Himselfe he mangl’d; and the Troian bounds

(Thrust thicke with enemies) aduentured on:

His royall shoulders, hauing cast vpon

Base abiect weeds, and enterd like a slaue.

Then (begger-like) he did of all men craue;

And such a wretch was, as the whole Greeke fleete

Brought not besides. And thus through euery streete

He crept discouering: of no one man knowne.

And yet through all this difference, I alone

Smok’t his true person. Talkt with him. But he

Fled me with wiles still. Nor could we agree,

Till I disclaimd him quite. And so (as mou’d

With womanly remorse, of one that prou’d

So wretched an estate, what ere he were)

Wonne him to take my house. And yet euen there;

Till freely I (to make him doubtlesse) swore

A powrefull oath, to let him reach the shore

Of ships and tents, before Troy vnderstood;

I could not force on him his proper good.

But then I bath’d and sooth’d him, and he then

Confest, and told me all. And (hauing slaine

A number of the Troian guards) retirde,

And reacht the Fleete; for slight and force admirde.

Their husbands deaths by him, the Troian wiues

Shrickt for; but I made triumphs for their liues.

For then my heart conceiu’d, that once againe

I should reach home; and yet did still retaine

Woe for the slaughters, Venus made for me:

When both my husband, my Hermio • e,

And bridall roome, she robd of so much right;

And drew me from my countrie, with her sleight.

Though nothing vnder heauen, I here did need,

That could my Fancie, or my Beautie feed.

Her husband said: [^DLPS97] Wife! what you please to tell,

Is true at all parts, and becomes you well.

And I my selfe, that now may say, haue seene

The minds and manners of a world of men:

And great Heroes, measuring many a ground,

Haue neuer (by these eyes that light me) found

One, with a bosome, so to be belou’d,

As that in which, th’accomplisht spirit, mou’d

Of patient Vlysses. What (braue man)

He both did act, and suffer, when we wan

The towne of Ilion, in the braue-built horse,

When all we chiefe States of the Grecian force,

Were housde together; bringing Death and Fate

Amongst the Troians; you (wife) may relate.

For you, at last, came to vs; God that would

The Troians glorie giue; gaue charge you should

Approch the engine; and Deipho • us

(The god-like) followd. Thrice ye cir • ’d vs,

With full suruay of it; and often tried

The hollow crafts, that in it were implied.

When all the voices of their wiues in it

You tooke on you; [^DLPS98] with voice so like, and fit;

And euery man by name, so visited;

That I, Vlysses, and King Diomed,

(Set in the midst, and hearing how you calld)

Tydides, and my selfe, (as halfe appalld

With your remorcefull plaints) would, passing faine

Haue broke our silence; rather then againe

Endure, respectlesse, their so mouing cries.

But, Ithacus, our strongest fantasies

Containd within vs, from the slendrest noise,

And euery man there, sat without a voice.

Anticlus onely, would haue answerd thee:

But, his speech, Ithacus incessantly

With strong hand held in: till (Mineruas call,

Charging thee off) Vlysses sau’d vs all.

Telemachus replide: [^DLPS99] Much greater is

My griefe, for hearing this high praise of his.

For all this doth not his sad death diuert;

Nor can, though in him swelld an iron heart.

Prepare, and leade then (if you please) to rest:

Sleepe (that we heare not) will content vs best.

Then Argiue Hellen made he handmaid go,

And put faire bedding in the Portico;

Lay purple blankets on, [^DLPS100] Rugs warme and soft;

And cast and Arras couerlet aloft.

They torches tooke; made haste, and made the bed,

When both the guests were to their lodgings led,

Within a Portico, without the house.

Atrides, and his large-traine-wearing Spouse,

(The excellent of women) for the way,

In a retir’d receit, together lay.

The morne arose; the King rose, and put on

His royall weeds; his sharpe sword hung vpon

His ample shoulders; forth his chamber went,

And did the person of a God present.

Telemachus accosts him; who begun

Speech of his iourneys proposition.

And what (my yong Vlyssean Heroe)

Prouokt thee on the broad backe of the sea, [^DLPS101]

To visit Lacedaemon the Diuine?

Speake truth; Some publicke • or onely thine?

I come (said he) to heare, if any fame

Breath’d of my Father; to thy notice came.

My house is sackt; my fat workes of the field,

Are all destroid: my house doth nothing yeeld

But enemies; that kill my harmlesse sheepe,

And sinewie Oxen: nor will euer keepe

Their steeles without them. And these men are they,

That wooe my Mother; most inhumanely

Committing iniurie on iniurie.

To thy knees therefore I am come, t’attend

Relation of the sad and wretched end,

My erring Father felt: if witnest by

Your owne eyes; or the certaine newes that flie

From others knowledges. For, more then is

The vsuall heape of humane miseries,

His Mother bore him to. Vouchsafe me then

(Without all ruth of what I can sustaine)

The plaine and simple truth of all you know.

Let me beseech so much. If euer vow

Was made, and put in good effect to you

At Troy (where suffrance bred you so much smart)

Vpon my Father, good Vlysses part;

And quit it now to me (himselfe in youth)

Vnfolding onely the vnclosed truth.

He (deeply sighing) answerd him: O shame

That such poore vassals should affect the fame,

To share the ioyes of such a Worthies Bed!

As when a Hinde (her calues late farrowed

To giue sucke) enters the bold lions den:

He, rootes of hils, and herbie vallies then

For food (there feeding) hunting: but at length

Returning to his Cauerne; giues his strength

The liues of both the mother and her brood,

In deaths indecent; so the [gap in text]

Must pay Vlysses powres, as sharpe an end.

O would to Ioue, Apollo, and thy friend,

(The wise Minerua) that thy Father were

As once he was, when he his spirits did rere

Against Philomelides, in a fight

Performd in well-built Lesbos; where, downe-right

He strooke the earth with him; and gat a shout

Of all the Grecians. O, if now, full out

He were as then; and with the wooers cop’t,

Short-liu’d they all were; and their nuptials, hop’t

Would proue as desperate. But for thy demand,

Enforc’t with prayrs; Ile let thee vnderstand

The truth directly; nor decline a thought;

Much lesse deceiue, or sooth thy search in ought.

But what the old, and still-true-spoken God,

That from the sea breathes oracles [illegible],

Disclosde to me; to thee Ile all impart,

Nor hide one word from thy sollicitous heart.

I was in Aegypt; [^DLPS102] where a mightie time,

The Gods detaind me: though my naturall clime,

I neuer so desir’d; because their homes

I did not greete, with perfect Hecatomes.

For they will put men euermore in mind,

How much their masterly commandments bind.

There is (besides) a certaine Iland, calld

Ph • ros, that with the high-wau’d sea is walld;

Iust against Aegypt; and so much remote,

As in a whole day, with a fore-gale [illegible],

A hollow ship can saile. And this Ile beares

A Port, most portly; where sea-passengers

Put in still for fresh water, and away

To sea againe. Yet here the Gods did stay

My Fleete, full twentie dayes: the winds (that are

Masters at sea) no prosprous puffe would spare,

To put vs off: and all my victles here.

Had quite corrupted; as my mens minds were;

Had not a certaine Goddesse giuen regard,

And pittide me in an estate so hard:

And twas Edothea, honourd Proteus seed,

That old sea-farer. Her mind I made bleed

With my compassion, when (walkt all alone,

From all my souldiers, that were euer gone

About the Ile on fishing, with hookes bent;

Hunger, their bellies, on her errand sent)

She came close to me; spake; and thus began:

Of all men, thou art the most foolish man,

Or slacke in businesse; or stayst here of choice;

And doest in all thy suffrances reioyce;

That thus long liu’st detaind here; and no end

Canst giue thy tarriance. Thou doest much offend

The minds of all thy fellowes. I replied:

Who euer thouart of the Deified,

I must affirme, that no way with my will,

I make abode here: but, it seemes, some ill

The Gods, inhabiting broad heauen, sustaine

Against my getting off. Informe me then,

(For Godheads all things know) what God is he

That stayes my passage, from the fishie sea?

Stranger (said she) Ile tell thee true: there liues

An old Sea-farer in these seas, [^DLPS103] that giues

A true solution of all secrets here.

Who, deathlesse Proteus is, th’Aegyptian Peere:

Who can the deepes of all the seas exquire;

Who Neptunes Priest is; and (they say) the Sire

That did beger me. Him, if any way

Thou couldst inveagle, he would cleare display

Thy course from hence; and how farre off doth lie

Thy voyages whole scope through Neptunes skie.

Informing thee (O Godpreseru’d) beside

(If thy desires would so be satisfide)

What euer good or ill hath got euent,

In all the time, thy long and hard course spent,

Since thy departure from thy house. This said;

Againe I answerd: Make the sleights displaid,

Thy Father vseth; lest his foresight see,

Or his foreknowledge taking note of me,

He flies the • ixt place of his vsde abode;

Tis hard for man to countermine with God.

She strait replide: Ile vtter truth in all;

When heauens supremest height, [^DLPS104] the Sunne doth skall;

The old Sea-tell-truth leaues the deepes, and hides

Amidst a blacke storme, when the West wind chides;

In caues still sleeping. Round about him sleepe

(With short feete swimming forth the fomie deepe)

The Sea-calues (louely Halosydnes calld)

From whom a noisome odour is exhalld,

Got from the whirle-pooles, on whose earth they lie.

Here, when the morne illustrates all the skie,

Ile guide, and seate thee, in the fittest place,

For the performance thou hast now in chace.

In meane time, reach thy Fleete; and chuse out three

Of best exploit, to go as aides to thee.

But now Ile shew thee all the old Gods sleights; [^DLPS105]

He first will number, and take all the sights

Of those, his guard, that on the shore arriues.

When hauing viewd, and told them forth by fiues;

He takes place in their midst, and there doth sleepe,

Like to a shepheard midst his flocke of sheepe.

In his first sleepe, call vp your hardiest cheare,

Vigor and violence, and hold him there,

In spite of all his striuings to be gone.

He then will turne himselfe to euery one

Of all things that in earth creepe and respire,

In water swim, or shine in heauenly fire.

Yet still hold you him firme; and much the more

Presse him from passing. But when, as before

(When sleepe first bound his powres) his forme ye see,

Then ceasse your force, and th’old Heroe free;

And then demand, which heauen-borne it may bee

That so afflicts you, hindring your retreate,

And free sea-passage to your natiue seate.

This said, she diu’d into the wauie seas;

And I my course did to my ships addresse,

That on the sands stucke; where arriu’d, we made

Our supper readie. Then th’Ambrosian shade

Of night fell on vs; and to sleepe we fell.

Rosie Aurora rose; we rose as well;

And three of them, on whom I most relied,

For firme at euery force; I chusde, and hied

Strait to the many-riuer-serued seas.

And all assistance, askt the Deities.

Meane time Ed • thea, the seas broad brest

Embrac’t; and brought for me, and all my rest,

Foure of the sea-calues skins, but newly flead,

To worke a wile, which she had fashioned

Vpon her Father. Then (within the sand

A couert digging) when these Calues should land,

She sate expecting. We came close to her:

She plac’t vs orderly; and made vs weare

Each one his Calues skin. But we then must passe

A huge exploit. The sea-calues sauour was

So passing sowre (they still being bred at seas)

It much afflicted vs: for who can please

To lie by one of these same sea-bred whales? [^DLPS106]

But she preserues vs; and to memorie calls

A rare commoditie: she fetcht to vs

Ambrosia, that an aire most odorous

Beares still about it; which she nointed round

Our either nosthrils; and in it quite drownd

The nastie whale-smell. Then the great euent,

The whole mornes date, with spirits patient

We lay expecting. When bright Noone did flame

Forth from the sea, in Sholes the sea-calues came,

And orderly, at last, lay downe and slept

Along the sands. And then th’old sea-god crept

From forth the deepes; and found his sat calues there:

Suruaid, and numberd; and came neuer neare

The craft we vsde; but told vs fiue for calues.

His temples then diseasd, with sleepe he salues;

And in rusht we, with an abhorred crie:

Cast all our hands about him manfully,

And then th’old Forger, all his formes began:

First was a Lion, with a mightie mane;

Then next a Dragon; a pide Panther then;

A vast Boare next; and sodainly did straine

All into water. Last, he was a tree,

Curld all at top, and shot vp to the skie.

We, with resolu’d hearts, held him firmly still,

When th’old one (held to streight for all his skill, [^DLPS107]

To extricate) gaue words, and questiond me:

Which of the Gods, O Atreus sonne, (said he)

Aduisde and taught thy fortitude this sleight,

To take and hold me thus, in my despight?

What asks thy wish now? I replide: Thou knowst:

Why doest thou aske? What wiles are these thou showst

I haue within this Ile, bene held for winde

A wondrous time; and ca • by no meanes find

An end to my retention. It hath spent

The very heart in me. Giue thou then vent

To doubts thus bound in me, (ye Gods know all)

Which of the Godheads, doth so fowly fall

On my addression home, to stay me here?

Auert me from my way? The fishie cleare,

Barr’d to my passage? He replide: Of force

(If to thy home, thou wishest free recourse)

To Ioue, and all the other Deities,

Thou must exhibite solemne sacrifice;

And then the blacke sea for thee shall be cleare,

Till thy lou’d countries settl’d reach. But where

Aske these rites thy performance? • Tis a fate

To thee and thy affaires appropriate,

That thou shalt neuer see thy friends, nor tred

Thy Countries earth; nor see inhabited

Thy so magnificent house; till thou make good

Thy voyage backe to the Aegyptian flood,

Whose waters fell from I • e: and there hast gi • en

To Ioue, and all Gods, housd in ample heauen,

Deuoted Hecatombs; and then free wayes

Shall open to thee; cleard of all delayes.

This told he; and me thought, he b • ke my heart,

In such a long and hard cou • se to diuert

My hope for home; and charge my backe retreat,

As farre as Aegypt. I made answer yet:

Father, thy charge Ile perfect; but before,

Resolue me truly, if their naturall • hore,

All those Greeks, and their ships, do safe enioy,

That Nestor and my selfe left, when from Troy

We first raisde saile? Or whether any died

At sea a death vnwisht? Or (satisfied)

When warre was past, by friends embrac’t, in peace

Resign’d their spirits? He made answer: Cease

To aske so farre; it fits thee not to be

So cunning in thine owne calamitie.

Nor seeke to learne; what learnd, thou shouldst forget;

Mens knowledges haue proper limits set,

And should not prease into the mind of God.

But twill not long be (as my thoughts abode)

Before thou buy this curious skill with tea • es.

Many of those, whose states so tempt thine eares,

Are stoopt by Death; and many left aliue:

One chiefe of which, in strong hold doth surui • e,

Amidst the broad sea. Two, in their retreate,

Are done to death. I list not to repeate,

Who fell at Troy; thy selfe was there in fight.

But in returne, swift Aiax lost the light,

In his long-oard ship. Neptune yet a while,

Saft him vnwrackt: [^DLPS108] to the Gyr • an Ile,

A mightie Rocke • emo • ing from his way.

And surely he had scapt the fatall day,

In spite of Pallas, if to that foule deed,

He in her Phane did, [^DLPS109] (when he raui • hed

The Troian Prophetesse) he had not here

Adioynd an impious boast: that he would beare

(Despite the Gods) his ship safe through the waues

Then raisde against him. These his impious b • aues,

When Neptune heard; in his strong hand he tooke

His massie Trident; and so soundly strooke

The rocke Gyraean, that in two it cleft:

Of which, one fragment on the land he left;

The other fell into the troubld seas;

At which, first rusht Aiax Oileades,

And split his ship: and then himselfe aflote

Swum on the rough waues of the worlds va • t mo • e;

Till hauing drunke a salt cup for his sinne,

There perisht he. Thy brother yet did winne

The wreath from Death, while in the waues they stroue,

Afflicted by the reuerend wife of Ioue.

But when the steepe Mount of the Malean shore,

He seemd to reach; a most tempestuous blore,

Farre to the fishie world, that sighes so sore,

Strait rauisht him againe; as farre away,

As to th’extreme bounds where the Agrians stay;

Where first Thiestes dwelt: but then his sonne

Aegisthus Thiestiades liu’d. This done,

When his returne vntoucht appeard againe;

Backe turnd the Gods the wind; and set him then

Hard by his house. Then, full of ioy, he left

His ship; and close t’his countrie earth he cleft;

Kist it, and wept for ioy: powrd teare on teare,

To set so wishedly his footing there.

But see: a Sentinell that all the yeare,

Craftie Aegisthus, in a watchtowre set

To spie his landing; for reward as great

As two gold talents; all his powres did call

To strict remembrance of his charge; and all

Discharg’d at first sight; which at first he cast

On Agamemnon; and with all his hast,

Informd Aeg • sthus. He, an instant traine

Laid for his slaughter: Twentie chosen men

Of his Plebeians, he in ambush laid.

His other men, he charg’d to see puruaid

A Feast: and forth, with horse and chariots grac’t,

He rode t’inui • e him: but in heart embrac’t

Horrible welcomes: and to death did bring,

With trecherous slaughter, the vnwary King.

Receiu’d him at a Feast; and (like an Oxe

Slaine at his manger) gaue him bits and knocks. [^DLPS110]

No one left of Atrides traine; nor one

Sau’d to Aegisthus; but himselfe alone:

All strowd together there, the bloudie Court.

This said: my soule he sunke with his report:

Flat on the sands I fell: teares spent their store;

I, light abhord: my heart would liue no more.

When drie of teares; and tir’d with tumbling there;

Th’old Tel-truth thus my danted spirits did cheare:

No more spend teares nor time, ô Atreus sonne;

With ceaslesse weeping, neuer wish was wonne.

Vse vttermost assay to reach thy home,

And all vnwares vpon the murtherer come,

(For torture) taking him thy selfe, aliue;

Orw let Orestes, that should farre out-striue

Thee in fit vengeance, quickly quit the light

Of such a darke soule: and do thou the right

Of buriall to him, with a Funerall feast.

With these last words, I fortifide my breast;

In which againe, a generous spring began,

Of fitting comfort, as I was a man;

But, as a brother, I must euer mourne.

Yet forth I went; and told him the returne

Of these I knew: but he had nam’d a third,

Held on the broad sea; still with life inspir’d;

Whom I besought to know, though likewise dead,

And I must mourne alike. He answered:

He is Laertes sonne; whom I beheld

In Nymph Calypsos Pallace; who compeld

His stay with her: and since he could not see

His countrie earth, he mournd incessantly.

For he had neither ship, instruct with oares,

Nor men to fetch him from those stranger shores.

Where, leaue we him; and to thy selfe descend;

Whom, not in Argos, Fate nor Death shall end;

But the immortall ends of all the earth,

So rul’d by them, that order death by birth,

(The fields Elisian) Fate to thee will giue: [^DLPS111]

Where Rhadamanthus rules; and where men liue

A neuer-troubld life: where snow, nor showres,

Nor irksome Winter spends his fruitlesse powres;

But from the Ocean, Zephyre still resumes

A constant breath, that all the fields perfumes.

Which, since thou marriedst Hellen, are thy hire;

And Ioue himselfe, is by her side thy Sire.

This said; he diu’d the d • epsome watrie heapes; [^DLPS112]

I, and my tried men, tooke vs to our ships;

And worlds of thoughts, I varied with my steps.

Arriu’d and shipt, the silent solemne Night,

And Sleepe bereft vs of our visuall light.

At morne, masts, sailes reard, we sate; left the shores,

And beate the fomie Ocean with our oares.

Againe then we, the Ioue -falne flood did fetch,

As farre as Aegypt: where we did beseech

The Gods with Hecatombs; whose angers ceast;

I toomb’d my brother, that I might be blest.

All rites performd; all haste I made for home;

And all the prosprous winds about were come;

I had the Pasport now of euery God,

And here closde all these labours period.

Here stay then, till th’eleuenth or twelfth daies light;

And Ile dismisse thee well; gifts exquisite

Preparing for thee: Chariot, horses three;

A Cup of curious frame to serue for thee,

To serue th’immortall Gods with sacrifice;

Mindfull of me, while all Sunnes light thy skies.

He answe • d: [^DLPS113] Stay me not too long time here;

Though I could sit, attending all the yeare:

Nor should my house, nor parents, with desire,

Take my affections from you; so on fire

With loue to heare you, are my thoughts: but so;

My Pylian friends, I shall afflict with wo,

Who mourne euen this stay. Whatsoeuer be

The gifts your Grace is to bestow on me;

Vouchsafe them such, as I may beare and saue,

For your sake euer. Horse, I list not haue,

To keepe in Ithaca: but leaue them here,

To your soiles dainties; where the broad fields beare

Sweet Cypers grasse; where men-fed Lote doth flow;

Where wheate-like Spelt; and wheate it selfe doth grow;

Where Barley, [^DLPS114] white, and spreading like a tree:

But Ithaca, hath neither ground to be

(For any length it comprehends) a race

To trie a horses speed: nor any place

To make him fat in: fitter farre to feed

A Cliffe-bred Goate, then raise▪ or please a Steed.

Of all Iles, Ithaca doth least prouide,

Or meades to feed a horse, or wayes • o ride.

He, smiling said: Of good bloud art thou (sonne):

What speech, so • yong? what obseruation

Hast thou made of the world? I well am pleasde

To change my gifts to thee; as being confessd

Vnfit indeed: my store is such, I may.

Of all my house-gifts then, that vp I lay

For treasure there, I will bestow on thee

The fairest, and of greatest price to me.

I will bestow on thee a rich caru’d Cup

Of siluer all: but all the brims wrought vp

With finest gold: it was the onely thing

That the Heroicall Sydonian King

Presented to me, when we were to part

At his receit of me; and twas the Art

Of that great Artist, that of heauen is free;

And yet euen this, will I bestow on thee.

This speech thus ended; guests came, and did bring

Muttons (for Presents) to the God-like King:

And spirit-prompting wine, that strenuous makes.

Their Riband-wreathed wiues, brought fruit and cakes.

Thus, in this house, did these their Feast apply:

And in Vlysses house, [^DLPS115] Actiuitie

The wooers practisde: Tossing of the Speare;

The Stone, and hurling: thus delighted, where

They exercisde such insolence before:

Euen in the Court, that wealthy [illegible] wo • e.

Antinous did still their strifes decide;

And he that was in person dei • ide

Eury • ach • ; both ring leaders of all;

For in their vertues they were principall.

These, by Noem • n (sonne to [illegible])

Were sided now; who made the question thus:

Antinous! does any friend here know,

When this Telemachus returnes? or no,

From sandie Pylos? He made bold to take

My ship with him: of which, I now should make

Fit vse my selfe; and saile in her as fa • e

As spacious Elis; where, of mine, there are

Twelue delicate Mares; and vnder their sides, go

Laborious Mules, that yet did neuer know

The yoke, nor labour: some of which should beare

The taming now, if I could fetch them there.

This speech, the rest admir’d; nor dreamd that he

Neleian Pyles, euer thought to see;

But was at field about his flocks suruay:

Or thought, his heardsmen • eld him so away.

Enpitheus sonne, Antino • s, then replied:

When went he? or with what Traine dignified

Of his selected Ithacensi • youth?

Prest men, or Bond men were they? Tell the truth.

Could he effect this? let me truly know:

To gaine thy vessell, did he violence show,

And vsde her gainst thy will? or had her free,

When fitting question, he had made with thee?

Noemon answerd: I did freely giue

My vessell to him; who deserues to liue,

That would do other? when such men as he,

Did in distresse aske? he should churlish be,

That would denie him: Of our youth, the best

Amongst the people; to the interest

His charge did challenge in them; giuing way,

With all the tribute, all their powres could pay.

Their Captaine (as he tooke the ship) I knew;

Who Mentor was, or God. A deities shew,

Maskt in his likenesse. But to thinke twas he,

I much admire; for I did clearly see,

But yester morning, God like Mentor here;

Yet, th’other euening, he tooke shipping there,

And went for Pylos. Thus went he for home,

And left the rest, with enuie ouercome:

Who sate; and pastime left. Enpitheus sonne

(Sad, and with rage, his entrailes ouerrunne)

His eyes like flames; thus interposde his speech.

Strange thing; an action of how proud a reach, [^DLPS116]

Is here committed by Telemachus?

A boy, a child; and we, a sort of vs,

Vowd gainst his voyage; yet admit it thus,

With ship, and choise youth of our people too?

But let him on; and all his mischiefe do;

Ioue shall conuert vpon himselfe his powres,

Before their ill presum’d, he brings on ours.

Prouide me then a ship, and twentie men

To giue her manage; that against again

He turnes for home; on th’ Ithacensian seas,

Or Cliffie Samian; I may interprease;

Way-lay, and take him; and make all his craft,

Saile with his ruine, for his Father saf’t.

This, all applauded; and gaue charge to do;

Rose, and to greete Vlysses house, did go.

But long time past not, ere Penelope

Had notice of their far-fetcht trecherie.

Medon the Herald told her; who had heard

Without the Hall, how they within conferd:

And hasted strait, to tell it to the Queene:

Who from the entrie, hauing Medon seene

Preuents him thus: Now Herald; what affaire

Intend the famous woo’rs, [^DLPS117] in your repaire?

To tell Vlysses maids, that they must ceasse

From doing our worke, and their banquets dresse?

I would to heauen, that (leauing wooing me,

Nor euer troubling other companie)

Here might the last Feast be, and most extreme,

That euer any shall addresse for them.

They neuer meete, but to consent in spoile,

And reape the free fruites of anothers toile.

O did they neuer, when they children were,

What to their Fathers, was Vlysses, heare?

Who neuer did gainst any one proceed,

With vniust vsage, or in word or deed?

Tis yet with other Kings, another right,

One to pursue with loue, another spight;

He still yet iust; nor would, though might deuoure;

Nor to the worst, did euer taste of powre.

But their vnruld acts, shew their minds estate:

Good turnes receiu’d once, thanks grow our of date.

Medon, the learn’d in wisedome, answerd her: [^DLPS118]

I wish (O Queene) that their ingratitudes were

Their worst ill towards you: but worse by farre,

And much more deadly their endeuours are;

Which loue will faile them in. [illegible]

Their purpose is (as he returnes to vs)

To giue their sharpe steeles in a cruell death:

Who now is gone to learne, if Fame can breathe

Newes of his Sire; and will the • ylian shore,

And sacred Sparta, in his search explore.

This newes dissolu’d to her both knees and heart,

Long silence held her, ere one word would part:

Her eyes stood full of teares; her small soft voice,

All late vse lost; that yet at last had choice

Of won • ed words; which briefly thus she vsde:

Why left my sonne his mother? why refusde

His wit the solid shore, to trie the seas,

And put in ships the trust of his distresse?

That are at sea to men vnbridld horse,

And tunne, past rule, their farre-engaged course,

Amidst a moisture, past all meane vnstaid?

No need compeld this: did he it, afraid

To liue and leaue posteritie his name?

I know not (he replide) if th’humor came

From current of his owne instinct, or flowd

From others instigations; but he vowd

Attempt to Pylos; or to see descried

His Sires returne, or know what death he died.

This said; he tooke him to Vlysse • house

After the wooers; the Vlyssean Spouse

(Runne through with woes) let Tort • e seise her mind,

Nor, in her choice of state-chaires, stood enclin’d

To take her seate; but th’abiect threshold chose

Of her faire chamber, for her loth’d repose;

And mournd most wretch-like. Round about her fell

Her handmaids, ioynd in a continuate yell.

From euery corner of the Pallace, all

Of all degrees, tun’d to her comforts fall

Their owne deiections: to whom, her complaint

She thus enforc’t: The Gods beyond constraint

Of any measure, vrge these teares on me;

Nor was there euer Dame of my degree,

So past degree grieu’d. First, a Lord, so good,

That had such hardie spirits in his blood.

That all the vertues was adornd withall;

That all the Greeks did their Superiour call,

To part with thus, and lose. And now a sonne

So worthily belou’d, a course to runne

Beyond my knowledge; whom rude tempests haue

Made farre from home, [^DLPS119] his most inglorious graue.

Vnhappie wenches, that no one of all,

(Though in the reach of euery one, must fall

His taking ship) sustaind the carefull mind,

To call me from my bed; who, this designd,

And most vowd course in him, had either staid,

(How much soeuer hasted) or dead laid

He should haue left me. Many a man I haue,

That would haue calld old Dolius my slaue,

(That keepes my Orchard, whom my Father gaue

At my departure) to haue runne, and told

Laertes this; to trie if he could hold

From running through the people; and from teares,

In telling them of these vowd murtherers;

That both diuine Vlysses hope, and his,

Resolue to end in their conspiracies.

His Nurse then, Euryclaea made reply:

Deare Soueraigne, [^DLPS120] let me with your owne hands die;

Or cast me off here; Ile not keepe from thee▪

One word of what I know: He trusted me

With all his purpose; and I gaue him all

The bread and wine, for which he pleasd to call.

But then a mightie oath he made me sweare,

Not to report it to your • oyall eare,

Before the twelfth day either should appeare,

Or you should aske me, when you heard him gone.

Empaire not then your beauties with your mone,

But wash, and put vnteare-staind garments on:

Ascend your chamber, with your Ladies here;

And pray the seed of Goat-nurst Iupiter,

(Diuine Athenia) to preserue your sonne;

And she will saue him from confusion.

Th’old King, to whom your hopes stand so inclin’d,

For his graue counsels, you perhaps may find

Vnfit affected, for his ages sake.

But heauen-kings waxe not old; and therefore make

Fit pray’rs to them; for my thoughts neuer will

Beleeue the heauenly powres conceit so ill,

The seed of righteous Arcesiades,

To end it vtterly; [^DLPS121] but still will please

In some place euermore, some one of them

To saue; and decke him with a Diadem:

Giue him possession of erected Towres,

And farre-stretcht fields, crownd all of fruits and flowres.

This easd her heart, and dride her humorous • ies,

When hauing washt, and weeds of sacrifise

(Pure, and vnstaind with her distrustfull teares)

Put on; (with all her women-ministers)

Vp to a chamber of most height, she rose;

And cakes of salt and barly did impose

Within a wicker basket; all which broke

In decent order; thus she did inuoke: [^DLPS122]

Great Virgin of the Goat-preserued God;

If euer the inhabited abode

Of wise Vlysses, held the • atted Thi • s

Of sheepe and Oxen, made thy sacrifice

By his deuotion; heare me; nor [illegible]

His pious seruices; but • a • e • ee • e •

His deare sonne, on these shores; and [gap in text]

These wooers, past all meane in insolence.

This said, she shriekt; and [gap in text] her [illegible].

The wooers broke with tumult all [gap in text]

About the shadie house; and one of them,

Whose pride, his youth had made the more [illegible],

Said; Now the many-wooer- [illegible] Queene,

Will surely fatiate her [illegible] [gap in text]

And one of vs, in instant [illegible].

Poore Dame, she dreames not, what designe we make,

Vpon the life and slaughter of her sonne.

So said he; but so said, was not so done;

Whose arrogant spirit, [^DLPS123] in a [illegible] so vaine,

Antinous chid; and said; For shame [illegible]

These brauing speeches; who [gap in text]

Are we not now in reach of [illegible]

If our intentions please vs, let vs call

Our spirits vp to them, and let [gap in text].

By watchfull Danger, men must [gap in text]:

What we resolue on, let’s not say, but do.

This said; he chusde out twentie men, that bore

Best reckning with him; and to ship and shore,

All • asted; reacht the ship, lanchit, raisd the ma • t;

Put sailes in; and with leather loopes made • a • t

The oares; Sailes hoisted; Armes their men did bring;

All giuing speed, and forme to euery thing.

Then to the high-deepes, their riggd vessell dri • en,

They supt; expecting the approching E • en.

Meane space, Penelope her chamber kept,

And bed, and neither eate, nor dranke, nor slept;

Her strong thoughts wrought so on her blamelesse sonne;

Still in contention, if he should be done

To death; or scape the impious wooers designe.

Looke how a Lion, whom then • roopes combine

To hunt, and close him in a craftie [illegible];

Much varied thought conceiues; and feare doth sting

For vrgent danger: So far’d she [illegible] sleepe,

All iuncture of her ioynts, and nerues did s • eepe

In his dissoluing humor. When (at rest)

Pallas her fauours varied; and addrest

An Idoll, that Iphthima did present

In [^DLPS124] structure of her euery lineament;

Great-sould Icarius daughter: whom, for Spouse

Eum • lus tooke, that kept in Pheris house.

This, to diuine Vlysses house she sent,

To trie her best meane, how she might content

Mournfull Penelope; and make Relent

The strict addiction in her to deplore.

This Idoll (like a [^DLPS125] worme, that lesse or more,

Contracts or straines her) did it selfe conuey,

Beyond the wards, or windings of the key,

Into the chamber; and aboue her head,

Her seate assuming, thus she comforted

Distrest Penelope. Doth sleepe thus sease

Thy powres, [^DLPS126] affected with so much disease?

The Gods, that nothing troubles, will not see

Thy teares nor griefes, in any least degree,

Sustaind with cause; for they will guard thy sonne,

Safe to his wisht, and natiue mansion;

Since he is no offender of their States;

And they to such, are firmer then their Fates. [^DLPS127].

The wise Penelope receiu’d her thus;

(Bound with a slumber most delicious,

And in the Port of dreames) O sister, why

Repaire you hither? since so farre off lie

Your house and houshold? You were neuer here

Before this houre; and would you now giue cheare

To my so many woes and miseries?

Affecting fitly all the faculties

My soule and mind hold: hauing lost before

A husband, that of all the vertues bore

The Palme amongst the Greeks; and whose renowne

So ample was, that Fame the sound hath blowne

Through Greece and Argos, to her very heart.

And now againe; a sonne that did conuert

My whole powres to his loue, by ship is gone.

A tender Plant, that yet was neuer growne

To labours taste, nor the commerce of men;

For whom, more then my husband I complaine▪

And lest he should at any sufferance touch

(Or in the sea, or by the men so much

Estrang’d to him, that must his consorts be)

Feare and chill tremblings, shake each ioynt of me.

Besides: his danger sets on, foes profest

To way-lay his returne; that haue addrest

Plots for his death. The scarce-discerned Dreame,

Said: Be of comfort; nor feares so extreme,

Let thus dismay thee; thou hast such a mate

Attending thee, as some at any rate

Would wish to purchase; for her powre is great;

Mineru • pities thy delights defeate:

Whose Grace hath sent me to foretell thee theese.

If thou (said she) be of the Goddesses, [^DLPS128]

And heardst her tell thee these; thou mayst as well

From her, tell all things else; daigne then to tell,

If yet the man, to all misfortunes borne,

(My husband) liues; and sees the Sunne adorne

The darksome earth; or hides his wretched head

In Plutos house, and liues amongst the dead?

I will not (she replide) my breath exhale,

In one continude, and perpetuall tale;

Liues he, or dies he. Tis a filthy vse,

To be in vaine and idle speech profuse.

This said; she through the key-hole of the dore

Vanisht againe into the open blore.

Icarius daughter started from her sleepe,

And Ioyes fresh humor, her lou’d brest did s • eepe:

When now so cleare, in that first watch of night,

She saw the seene dreame vanish from her sight.

The wooers (shipt) the seas moist waues did plie;

And thought the Prince, a haughtie death should die.

There lies a certaine Iland in the sea,

Twixt rockie Samos and rough Ithaca,

That cliffie is it selfe, and nothing great;

Yet holds conuenient hauens, that two wayes let

Ships in and out; calld Asteris: and there

The wooers hop’t to make their massakere.

A Vrora rose from high-borne Tithons Bed,

That men and Gods might be illustrated:

And then the Deities sate. Imperiall Ioue,

That makes the horrid murmure beate aboue,

Tooke place past all; whose height for euer springs;

And from whom flowes th’eternall powre of things.

Then Pallas (mindfull of Vlysses) told

The many Cares, that in Calypsos hold,

He still sustaind; when he had felt before,

So much affliction, and such dangers more.

O Father, [^DLPS129] (said she) and ye euer blest;

Giue neuer King hereafter, interest

In any aide of yours, by seruing you;

By being gentle, humane, iust; but grow

Rude, and for euer scornfull of your rights;

All iustice ordring by their appetites.

Since he that rul’d, as it in right behou’d,

That all his subiects, as his children lou’d,

Finds you so thoughtlesse of him, and his birth.

Thus men begin to say, ye rule in earth;

And grudge at what ye let him vndergo;

Who yet the least part of his sufferance know:

Thralld in an Iland; shipwrackt in his teares;

And in the fancies that Calypso beares,

Bound from his birthright; all his shipping gone;

And of his souldiers, not retaining one.

And now his most-lou’d Sonnes life doth inflame

Their slaughterous enuies; since his Fathers fame

He puts in pursuite; and is gone as farre

As sacred Pylos; and the singular

Dame breeding Sparta. This, with this reply,

The Cloud-assembler answerd: [^DLPS130] What words flie

Thine owne remembrance (daughter?) hast not thou

The counsell giuen thy selfe, that told thee how

Vlysses shall with his returne addresse

His wooers wrongs? And, for the safe accesse,

His Sonne shall make to his innatiue Port,

Do thou direct it, in as curious sort,

As thy wit serues thee: it obeys thy powers;

And in their ship returne the speedlesse wowers.

Then turnd he to his issue Mercurie,

And said: [^DLPS131] Thou hast made good our Ambassie

To th’other Statists; To the Nymph then now,

On whose faire head a t • ft of gold doth grow;

Beare our true-spoken counsell; for retreat

Of patient Vlysses; who shall get

No aide from vs, nor any mortall man;

But in a [^DLPS132] patcht-vp skiffe, (built as he can,

And suffering woes enow) the twentith day

At fruitfull Scheria, let him breathe his way,

With the Phaeacians, that halfe Deities liue;

Who like a God will honour him; and giue

His wisedome clothes, and ship, and brasse, and gold,

More then for gaine of Troy he euer told;

Where, at the whole diuision of the prey,

If he a sauer were, or got away

Without a wound (if he should grudge) twas well;

But th’end shall crowne all; therefore Fate will deale

So well with him; to let him land, and see

His natiue earth, friends, house and family.

Thus charg’d he; nor Argicides denied;

But to his feete, [^DLPS133] his faire wingd shooes he tied;

Ambrosian, golden; that in his command,

Put either sea, or the vnmeasur’d land,

With pace as speedie as a puft of wind.

Then vp his Rod went; with which he declin’d

The eyes of any waker, when he pleasd,

And any sleeper, when he wisht, diseasd.

This tooke; he stoopt Pierea; and thence

Glid through the aire; and Neptunes Confluence

Kist as he flew; and checkt the waues as light

As any Sea-mew, in her fishing flight,

Her thicke wings soucing in the sauorie seas.

Like her, he past a world of wildernesse;

But when the far-off Ile, he toucht; he went

Vp from the blue sea, to the Continent,

And reacht the ample Cauerne of the Queene;

Whom he within found; without, seldome seene.

A Sun-like fire vpon the harth did flame; [^DLPS134]

The matter precious, and diuine the frame;

Of Cedar cleft, and Incense was the Pile,

That breath’d an odour round about the Ile.

Her selfe was seated in an inner roome,

Whom sweetly sing he heard; and at her loome,

About a curious web; whose yarne she threw

In, with a golden shittle. A Groue grew

In endlesse spring about her Cauerne round;

With odorous Cypresse, Pines, and Poplars crownd,

Where Haulks, Sea-owles, and long-tongu’d Bittours bred;

And other birds their shadie pinions spred.

All Fowles maritimall; none roosted there,

But those whose labours in the waters were.

A Vine did all the hollow Caue embrace;

Still greene, yet still ripe bunches gaue it grace.

Foure Fountaines, one against another powrd

Their siluer streames; and medowes all enflowrd

With sweete Balme-gentle, and blue Violets hid,

That deckt the soft brests of each fragrant Mead.

Should any one (though he immortall were)

Arriue and see the sacred obiects there;

He would admire them, and be ouer-ioyd;

And so stood Hermes rauisht powres employd.

But hauing all admir’d, he enterd on

The ample Caue; not could be seene vnknowne

Of great Calypso, (for all Deities are

Prompt in each others knowledge; though so farre

Seuerd in dwellings) but he could not see

Vlysses there within. Without was he

Set sad ashore; where twas his vse to view

Th’vnquiet sea; sigh’d, wept, and emptie drew

His heart of comfort. Plac’t here in her throne

(That beames cast vp, to Admiration)

Diuine Calypso, question’d Hermes thus:

For what cause (deare, [^DLPS135] and much-esteem’d by vs,

Thou golden-rod-adorned Mercurie)

Arriu’st thou here? thou hast not vsde t’apply

Thy passage this way. Say, what euer be

Thy hearts desire, my mind commands it thee,

If in my meanes it lie, or powre of fact.

But first, what hospitable rights exact,

Come yet more neare, and take. This said, she set

A Table forth, and furnisht it with meate,

Such as the Gods taste; and seru’d in with it,

Vermilion Nectar. When with banquet, fit

He had confirmd his spirits; he thus exprest

His cause of coming: [^DLPS136] Thou hast made request

(Goddesse of Goddesses) to vnderstand

My cause of touch here: which thou shalt command,

And know with truth: Ioue causd my course to thee,

Against my will; for who would willingly

Lackey along so vast a lake of Brine?

Neare to no Citie; that the powres diuine

Receiues with solemne rites and Hecatombs?

But Ioues will euer, all law ouercomes;

No other God can crosse or make it void.

And he affirmes, that one, the most annoid

With woes and toiles, of all those men that fought

For Priams Citie; and to end hath brought

Nine yeares in the contention; is with thee.

For in the tenth yeare, when roy Victorie

Was wonne, to giue the Greeks the spoile of Troy;

Returne they did professe, but not enioy,

Since Pallas they incenst; and she, the waues

By all the winds powre, that blew ope their graues.

And there they rested. Onely this poore one,

This Coast, both winds and waues haue cast vpon:

Whom now forthwith he wils thee to dismisse;

Affirming that th’vnalterd destinies,

Not onely haue decreed, he shall not die

Apart his friends; but of Necessitie

Enioy their sights before those fatall houres,

His countrie earth reach, and erected Towres.

This strook, a loue-checkt horror through her powres;

When (naming him) she this reply did giue:

Insatiate are ye Gods, [^DLPS137] past all that liue,

In all things you affect; which still conuerts

Your powres to Enuies. It afflicts your hearts,

That any Goddesse should (as you obtaine

The vse of earthly Dames) enioy the men:

And most in open mariage. So ye far’d,

When the delicious-fingerd Morning shar’d

Orions bed: you easie-liuing States,

Could neuer satisfie your emulous hates;

Till in Ortygia, the precise-liu’d Dame

(Gold-thron’d Diana) on him rudely came,

And with her swift shafts slue him. And such paines,

(When rich-haird Ceres pleasd to giue the raines

To her affections; and the grace did yeeld

Of loue and bed amidst a three-cropt field,

To her Iasion) he paid angrie Ioue;

Who lost, no long time, notice of their loue;

But with a glowing lightning, was his death.

And now your enuies labour vnderneath

A mortals choice of mine; whose life, I tooke

To liberall safetie; when his ship, Ioue strooke

With red-hote flashes, peece-meale in the seas,

And all his friends and souldiers, succourlesse

Perisht but he. Him, cast vpon this coast

With blasts and billowes; I (in life giuen lost)

Preseru’d alone; lou’d, nourisht, and did vow

To make him deathlesse; and yet neuer grow

Crooked, or worne with age, his whole life long.

But since no reason may be made so strong,

To striue with Ioues will, or to make it vaine;

No not if all the other Gods should straine

Their powres against it; let his will be law;

So he affoord him fit meanes to withdraw,

(As he commands him) to the raging Maine:

But meanes from me, he neuer shall obtaine,

For my meanes yeeld, nor men, nor ship, nor oares,

To set him off, from my so enuied shores.

But if my counsell and goodwill can aide

His safe passe home, my best shall be assaid.

Vouchsafe it so, (said heauens Ambassador)

And daigne it quickly. By all meanes abhorre

T’incense Ioues wrath against thee; that with grace

He may hereafter, all thy wish embrace.

Thus tooke the Argus -killing God, [^DLPS138] his wings.

And since the reuerend Nymph, these awfull things

Receiu’d from Ioue; she to Vlysses went:

Whom she ashore found, drownd in discontent;

His eyes kept neuer drie, he did so mourne,

And waste his deare age, for his wisht returne.

Which still without the Caue he vsde to do,

Because he could not please the Goddesse so.

At night yet (forc’t) together tooke their rest,

The willing Goddesse, and th’vnwilling Guest.

But he, all day in rockes, and on the shore

The vext sea viewd; and did his Fate deplore.

Him, now, the Goddesse (coming neare) bespake:

Vnhappie man; [^DLPS139] no more discomfort take,

For my constraint of thee; nor waste thine age;

I now will passing freely disengage

Thy irksome stay here. Come then, fell thee wood,

And build a ship, to saue thee from the flood.

Ile furnish thee with fresh waue; bread and wine,

Ruddie and sweet, that will the [^DLPS140] Piner pine;

Put garments on thee; giue thee winds foreright;

That euery way thy home-bent appetite

May safe attaine to it; if so it please

At all parts, all the heauen-housd Deities!

That more in powre are, more in skill then I;

And more can iudge, what fits humanitie.

He stood amaz’d, [^DLPS141] at this strange change in her;

And said: O Goddesse! thy intents preferre

Some other proiect, then my parting hence;

Commanding things of too high consequence

For my performance. That my selfe should build

A ship of powre, my home assaies to shield

Against the great Sea, of such dread to passe;

Which not the best-built ship that euer was,

Will passe exulting; when such winds as Ioue

Can thunder vp, their trims and tacklings proue.

But could I build one, I would ne’re aboord,

(Thy will opposde) nor (won) without thy word,

Giuen in the great oath of the Gods to me,

Not to beguile me in the least degree.

The Goddesse smilde; held hard his hand, and said:

O y’are a shrewdw one; and so habited

In taking heed; thou knowst not what it is

To be vnwary; nor vse words amisse.

How hast thou charmd me, were I ne’re so slie?

Let earth know then; [^DLPS142] and heauen, so broad, so hie;

And th’vnder-sunke waues of th’infernall streame;

(Which is an oath, as terribly supreame,

As any God sweares) that I had no thought,

But stood with what I spake; nor would haue wrought,

Nor counseld any act, against thy good;

But euer diligently weighd, and stood

On those points in perswading thee; that I

Would vse my selfe in such extremitie.

For my mind simple is, and innocent;

Not giuen by cruell sleights to circumuent;

Nor beare I in my breast a heart of steele,

But with the Sufferer, willing sufferance feele.

This said; the Grace of Goddesses led home;

He tract her steps; and (to the Cauerne come)

In that rich Throne, whence Mercurie arose,

He sate. The Nymph her selfe did then appose

For food and beuridge to him; all best meate

And drinke, that mortals vse to taste and eate.

Then sate she opposite; and for her Feast,

Was Nectar and Ambrosia addrest

By handmaids to her. Both, what was prepar’d,

Did freely fall to. Hauing fitly far’d,

The Nymph Calypso this discourse began:

Ioue -bred Vlysses! many-witted man!

Still is thy home so wisht? so soone, away?

Be still of cheare, for all the worst I say;

But if thy soule knew what a summe of woes

For thee to cast vp, thy sterne Fates impose,

Ere to thy country earth thy hopes attaine;

Vndoubtedly thy choice would here remaine;

Keepe house with me, [^DLPS143] and be a liuer euer.

Which (me thinkes) should thy house and thee disseuer;

Though for thy wife there, thou art set on fire;

And all thy dayes are spent in her desire;

And though it be no boast in me to say,

In forme and mind, I match her euery way.

Nor can it fit a mortall Dames compare,

T’affect those termes with vs, that deathlesse are.

The great in counsels, made her this reply:

Renowm’d, and to be reuerenc’d Deitie!

Let it not moue thee, that so much I vow

My comforts to my wife; though well I know

All cause my selfe, why wise Penelope

In wit is farre inferiour to thee;

In feature, stature, all the parts of show;

She being a mortall; an Immortall thou;

Old euer growing, and yet neuer old.

Yet her desire, shall all my dayes see told;

Adding the sight of my returning day,

And naturall home. If any God shall lay

His hand vpon me, as I passe the seas;

Ile beare the worst of what his hand shall please;

As hauing giuen me such a mind, as shall

The more still rise, the more his hand lets fall.

In warres and waues, my sufferings were not small.

I now haue sufferd much; as much before;

Hereafter let as much result, and more.

This said; the Sunne set; and earth shadowes gaue;

When these two (in an in-roome of the Caue,

Left to themselues) left Loue no rites vndone.

The early Morne vp; vp he rose; put on

His in and our-weed. She, her selfe inchaces

Amidst a white robe, full of all the Graces;

Ample, and plea • ed, thicke, like fishie skales.

A golden girdle then, her waste empales;

Her head, a veile decks; and abroad they come;

And now began Vlysses to go home.

A great Axe, first she gaue, that two wayes cut;

In which a faire wel-polisht helme was put,

That from an Oliue bough receiu’d his frame:

A plainer then. Then led she till they came

To loftie woods, that did the Ile confine.

The Fi • e tree, Poplar, and heauen-scaling Pine,

Had there their ofspring. Of which, those that were

Of driest matter, and grew longest there,

He chusde for lighter saile. This place, thus showne,

The Nymph turnd home. He fell to felling downe;

And twentie trees he stoopt, in litle space;

Plaind, vsde his Plumb; did all with artfull grace.

In meane time did Calypso wimbles bring.

He bor’d, closde, naild, and orderd euery thing;

And tooke how much a ship-wright will allow

A ship of burthen; (one that best doth know

What fits his Art) so large a Keele he cast.

Wrought vp her decks, and hatches, side-boords, mast;

With willow watlings armd her, to resist

The billowes outrage; added all she mist;

Sail-yards, and sterne for guide. The Nymph then brought

Linnen for sailes; which, with dispatch, he wrought.

Gables, and halsters, tacklings. All the Frame

In foure dayes space, [^DLPS144] to full perfection came.

The fift day, they dismist him from the shore;

Weeds, neate, and odorous gaue him; victles store;

Wine, and strong waters, and a prosperous wind.

To which, Vlysses (fit to be diuin’d)

His sailes exposd, and hoised. Off he gat;

And chearfull was he. At the Sterne he sat,

And ster’d right artfully. No sleepe could seise

His ey-lids: he beh • ld the Ple • ades;

The Beare, surnam’d the Waine, that round doth moue

About Orion; and keepes still aboue

The billowie Oc • an. The slow-setting starre,

Bootes calld, by some, the Waggonar.

Calypso warnd him, he his course should stere

Still to his left hand. Seuenteene dayes did cleare

The cloudie Nights command, in his moist way;

And by the eighteenth light, he might display

The shadie hils of the Phaeacian shore;

For which, as to his next abode, he bore.

The countrie did a pretie figure yeeld,

And lookt from off the darke seas, like a shield.

Imperious Neptune (making his retreate

From th’ Aethiopian earth; and taking seate

Vpon the mountaines of the Solymi;

From thence, farre off discouering) did descrie

Vlysses, his fields plowing. All on fire

The sight strait set his heart; and made desire

Of wreake runne ouer, it did boile so hie.

When (his head nodding) O impietie

(He cried out) now, the Gods inconstancie

Is most apparent; altring their designes

Since I the Aethiops saw: and here confines

To this Vlysses fate, his misery.

The great marke, on which all his hopes rely,

Lies in Phaeacia. But I hope he shall

Feele woe at height, ere that dead calme befall.

This said; [^DLPS145] he (begging) gatherd clouds from land;

Frighted the seas vp; snatcht into his hand,

His horrid Trident; and aloft did tosse

(Of all the winds) all stormes he could engrosse.

All earth tooke into sea with clouds; grim Night

Fell tumbling headlong from the cope of Light.

The East and Southwinds iustld in the aire;

The violent Zephire, and North -making faire,

Rould vp the waues before them: and then, bent

Vlysses knees; then all his spirit was spent.

In which despaire, he thus spake: Woe is me!

What was I borne to? man of miserie?

Feare tels me now, that all the Goddesse said,

Truths selfe will author; that Fate would be paid

Griefes whole summe due from me, at sea, before

I reacht the deare touch of my countries shore.

With what clouds Ioue, heauens heightned forehead binds?

How tyrannize the wraths of all the winds?

How all the tops, he bottomes with the deepes?

And in the bottomes, all the tops he steepes?

Thus dreadfull is the presence of our death.

Thrice foure times blest were they that sunke beneath

Their Fates at Troy; and did to nought contend,

But to renowme Atrides with their end?

I would to God, my houre of death, and Fate,

That day had held the power to terminate;

When showres of darts, my life bore vndeprest,

About diuine Aeacides deceast.

Then had I bene allotted to haue died,

By all the Greeks, with funerals glorified;

(Whence Death, encouraging good life, had growne)

Where now I die, by • o man mournd, nor knowne.

This spoke; a huge waue tooke him by the head,

And hurld him o’re-boord: ship and all it laid

Inuerted quite amidst the waues; but he

Farre off from her sprawld, strowd about the sea:

His Sterne still holding, broken off; his Mast

Burst in the midst: so horrible a blast

Of mixt winds strooke it. Sailes and saile-yards fell

Amongst the billowes; and himselfe did dwell

A long time vnder water: nor could get

In haste his head out: waue with waue so met

In his depression; and his garments too,

(Giuen by Calypso) gaue him much to do,

Hindring his swimming; yet he left not so

His drenched vessell, for the ouerthrow

Of her nor him; but gat at length againe

(Wrestling with Neptune) hold of her; and then

Sate in her Bulke, insulting ouer Death;

Which (with the salt streame, prest to stop his breath)

He scap’t, and gaue the sea againe; to giue

To other men. His ship so striu’d to liue,

Floting at randon, cufft from waue to waue;

As you haue seene the Northwind when he draue

In Autumne, heapes of thorne-fed Grashoppers▪

Hither and thither; one heape this way beares,

Another that; and makes them often meete

In his confusde gales; so Vlyss • s fleete,

The winds hurl’d vp and downe: now Boreas

Tost it to Notus, Notus gaue it passe

To Eurus; Eurus, Zephire made it pursue

The horrid Tennis. This sport calld the view

Of Cadmus daughter, with the narrow heele;

(Ino Leucothea) that first did feele

A mortall Dames desires; and had a tongue.

But now had th’honor to be nam’d among

The marine Godheads. She, with pitie saw

Vlysses iustl’d thus, from flaw to flaw;

And (like a Cormorand, in forme and flight)

Rose from a whirl-poole: on the ship did light,

And thus bespeake him: [^DLPS146] Why is Neptune thus

In thy pursuite extremely furious,

Oppressing thee with such a world of ill,

Euen to thy death? He must not serue his will,

Though tis his studie. Let me then aduise,

As my thoughts serue; thou shalt not be vnwise

To leaue thy weeds and ship, to the commands

Of these rude winds; and worke out with thy hands,

Passe to Phaeacia; where thy austere Fate,

Is to pursue thee with no more such hate.

Take here this Tablet, with this riband strung,

And see it still about thy bosome hung;

By whose eternall vertue, neuer feare

To suffer thus againe, nor perish here.

But when thou touchest with thy hand the shore,

Then take it from thy necke, nor weare it more;

But cast it farre off from the Continent,

And then thy person farre ashore present.

Thus gaue she him the Tablet; and againe

(Turnd to a Cormorand) diu’d past sight the Maine.

Patient Vlysses sighd at this; and stucke

In the conceit of such faire-spoken Lucke:

And said; [^DLPS147] Alas, I must suspect euen this;

Lest any other of the Deities

Adde sleight to Neptunes force; to counsell me

To l • aue my vessell, and so farre off see

The shore I aime at. Not with thoughts too cleare

Will I obey her: but to me appeare

These counsels best; as long as I perceiue

My ship not quite dissolu’d, I will not leaue

The helpe she may affoord me; but abide,

And suffer all woes, till the worst be tride.

When she is split, Ile swim: no miracle can

Past neare and cleare meanes, moue a knowing man.

While this discourse emploid him, Neptune raisd

A huge, a high, and horrid sea, that seisd

Him and his ship, [^DLPS148] and tost them through the Lake;

As when the violent winds together take

Heapes of drie chaffe, and hurle them euery way;

So his long woodstacke, Neptune strooke astray.

Then did Vlysses mount on rib, perforce,

Like to a rider of a running horse,

To stay himselfe a time, while he might shift

His drenched weeds, that were Calypsos gift.

When putting strait, Leucotheas Amulet

About his necke; he all his forces set

To swim; and cast him prostrate to the seas.

When powrefull Neptune saw the ruthlesse prease

Of perils siege him thus; he mou’d his head,

And this betwixt him and his heart, he said:

So, now feele ils enow, and struggle so,

Till to your Ioue -lou’d Ilanders you row.

But my mind sayes, you will not so auoid

This last taske too, but be with sufferance cloid.

This said; his rich-man’d horse he mou’d; and reacht

His house at Aegas. But Minerua fetcht

The winds from sea; and all their wayes but one

Barrd to their passage; the bleake North alone

She set to blow; the rest, she charg’d to keepe

Their rages in; an bind themselues in sleepe.

But Boreas still flew high, to breake the seas,

Till Ioue -bred Ithacus, the more with ease,

The nauigation-skild Phaeacian States

Might make his refuge; Death, and angrie Fates,

At length escaping. Two nights yet, and daies,

He spent in wrestling with the sable seas;

In which space, often did his heart propose

Death to his eyes. But when Aurora rose,

And threw the third light from her orient haire;

The winds grew calme, and cleare was all the aire;

Not one breath stirring. Then he might descrie

(Raisd by the high seas) cleare, the land was nie.

And then, [^DLPS149] looke how to good sonnes that esteeme

Their fathers life deare, (after paines extreame,

Felt in some sicknesse, that hath held him long

Downe to his bed; and with affections strong,

Wasted his bodie; made his life his lode;

As being inflicted by some angrie God)

When on their praires, they see descend at length

Health from the heauens, clad all in spirit and strength;

The sight is precious: so, since here should end

Vlysses toiles; which therein should extend

Health to his countrie, (held to him, his Sire)

And on which, long for him, Disease did tire.

And then besides, for his owne sake to see

The shores, the woods so neare; such ioy had he,

As those good sonnes for their recouerd Sire.

Then labourd feete and all parts, to aspire

To that wisht Continent; which, when as neare

He came, as Clamor might informe an eare;

He heard a sound beate from the sea-bred rocks,

Against which gaue a huge sea horrid shocks,

That belcht vpon the firme land, weeds and fome;

With which were all things hid there; where no roome

Of fit capacitie was for any port;

Nor (from the sea) for any mans resort;

The shores, the rocks, and cliffes so prominent were.

O (said Vlysses then) now Iupiter

Hath giuen me sight of an vnhop’t for shore,

(Though I haue wrought these seas so long, so sore)

Of rest yet, no place shewes the slendrest prints;

The rugged shore so bristl’d is with flints:

Against which, euery way the waues so flocke;

And all the shore shewes as one eminent rocke.

So neare which, tis so deepe, that not a sand

Is there, for any tired foote to stand:

Nor flie his death-fast following miseries,

Lest if he land, vpon him fore-right flies

A churlish waue, to crush him gainst a Cliffe;

Worse then vaine rendring, all his landing strife.

And should I swim to seeke a hauen elsewhere,

Or land, lesse way-beate; I may iustly feare

I shall be taken with a gale againe,

And cast a huge way off into the Maine.

And there, the great Earth-shaker (hauing seene

My so neare landing; and againe, his spleene

Forcing me to him) will some Whale send out,

(Of which a horrid number here about,

His Amphitrite breeds) to swallow me.

I well haue prou’d, with what malignitie

He treds my steps. While this discourse he held;

A curst Surge, gainst a cutting rocke impeld

His naked bodie, which it gasht and tore;

And had his bones broke, if but one sea more

Had cast him on it. But [^DLPS150] she prompted him,

That neuer faild; and bad him no more swim

Still off and on; but boldly force the shore,

And hug the rocke, that him so rudely tore.

Which he, with both hands, sigh’d and claspt; till past

The billowes rage was; which scap’t; backe, so fast

The rocke repulst it, that it reft his hold,

Sucking him from it, and farre backe he rould.

And as the Polypus, that (forc’t from home

Amidst the soft sea; and neare rough land come

For shelter gainst the stormes that beate on her

At open sea, as she abroad doth er • e)

A deale of grauill, and sharpe little stones,

Needfully gathers in her hollow bones:

So he forc’t hither, [^DLPS151] (by the sharper ill,

Shunning the smoother) where he best hop’t, still

The worst succeeded: for the cruell friend,

To which he clingd for succour, off did rend

From his broad hands, the soken flesh so sore,

That off he fell, and could sustaine no more.

Quite vnder water fell he; and, past Fate,

Haplesse Vlysses, there had lost the state

He held in life; if (still the grey-eye Maid,

His wisedome prompting) he had not assaid

Another course; and ceast t’attempt that shore;

Swimming, and casting round his eye, t’explore

Some other shelter. Then, the mouth he found

Of faire Callicoes flood; whose shores were crownd

With most apt succors: Rocks so smooth, they seemd

Polisht of purpose: land that quite redeemd

With breathlesse couerts, th’others blasted shores.

The flood he knew; and thus in heart implores:

King of this Riuer! heare; what euer name

Makes thee inuokt: to thee I humbly frame

My flight from Neptunes furies; Reuerend is

To all the euer-liuing Deities,

What erring man soeuer seekes their aid.

To thy both flood and knees, a man dismaid

With varied sufferance sues. Yeeld then some rest

To him that is thy suppliant profest.

This (though but spoke in thought) the Godhead heard;

Her Current strait staid; and her thicke waues cleard

Before him, smooth’d her waters; and iust where

He praid, halfe drownd; entirely sau’d him there.

Then forth he came, his both knees faltring; both

His strong hands hanging downe; and all with froth

His cheeks and nosthrils flowing. Voice and breath

Spent to all vse; and downe he sunke to Death.

The sea had soakt his heart through: all his vaines,

His toiles had rackt, t’a labouring [^DLPS152] womans paines.

Dead wearie was he. But when breath did find

A passe reciprocall; and in his mind,

His spirit was recollected: vp he rose,

And from his necke did th’Amulet vnlose,

That Ino gaue him; which he hurld from him

To sea. It sounding fell; and backe did swim

With th’ebbing waters; till it strait arriu’d,

Where Inos faire hand, it againe receiu’d.

Then kist he th’humble earth; and on he goes,

Till bulrushes shewd place for his repose;

Where laid, he sigh’d, and thus said to his soule:

O me, what strange perplexities controule

The whole skill of thy powres, in this euent?

What feele I? if till Care-nurse Night be spent,

I watch amidst the flood; the seas chill breath,

And vegetant dewes, I feare will be my death:

So low brought with my labours. Towards day,

A passing sharpe aire euer breathes at sea.

If I the pitch of this next mountaine scale,

And shadie wood; and in some thicket fall

Into the hands of Sleepe: though there the cold

May well be checkt; and healthfull slumbers hold

Her sweete hand on my powres; all care allaid,

Yet there will beasts deuoure me. Best appaid

Doth that course make me yet; for there, some strife,

Strength, and my spirit, may make me make for life.

Which, though empaird, may yet be fresh applied,

Where perill, possible of escape is tried.

But he that fights with heauen, or with the sea,

To Indiscretion, addes Impietie.

Thus to the woods he hasted; which he found

Not farre from sea; but on farre-seeing ground;

Where two twin vnder-woods, he enterd on;

With Oliue trees, and oile-trees ouergrowne:

Through which, the moist force of the loud-voic’t wind,

Did neuer beate; nor euer Phoebus shin’d;

Nor showre beate through; they grew so one in one;

And had, by turnes, their powre t’exclude the Sunne.

Here enterd our Vlysses; and a bed

Of leaues huge, and of huge abundance spred

With all his speed. Large he made it; for there,

For two or three men, ample Couerings were;

Such as might shield them from the Winters worst;

Though [^DLPS153] steele it breath’d; and blew as it would burst.

Patient Vlysses ioyd, that euer day

Shewd such a shelter. In the midst he lay,

Store of leaues heaping high on euery side.

And as in some out-field, a man doth hide

A kindld brand, to keepe the seed of fire; [^DLPS154]

No neighbour dwelling neare; and his desire

Seru’d with selfe store; he else would aske of none;

But of his fore-spent sparks, rakes th’ashes on:

So this out-place, Vlysses thus receiues;

And thus nak’t vertues seed, lies hid in leaues.

Yet Pallas made him sleepe, as soone as men

Whom Delicacies, all their flatteries daine.

And all that all his labours could comprise,

Quickly concluded, in his closed eies.

T He much-sustaining, patient, heauenly Man,

Whom Toile and [^DLPS155] Sleepe had worne so weake and wan;

Thus wonne his rest. In meane space Pallas went

To the Phaeacian citie; and descent

That first did broad Hyperias lands diuide,

Neare the vast Cyclops, men of monstrous pride.

That preyd on those Hyperians, since they were

Of greater powre; and therefore longer there

Diuine Nausithous dwelt not; but arose,

And did for Scheria, all his powres dispose:

Farre from ingenious Art-inuenting men.

But there did he erect a Citie then.

First, drew a wall round; then he houses builds;

And then a Temple to the Gods; the fields

Lastly diuiding. But he (stoopt by Fate)

Diu’d to th’infernals: and Alcinous sate

In his command: a man, the Gods did teach,

Commanding counsels. His house held the reach

Of grey Miner • as proiect; to prouide,

That great-sould Ithacus might be supplide

With all things fitting his returne. She went

Vp to the chamber, where the faire [^DLPS156] descent

Of great Alcinous slept. A maid, whose parts

In wit and beautie, wore diuine deserts.

Well deckt her chamber was: of which, the dore

Did seeme to lighten; such a glosse it bore

Betwixt the posts: and now flew ope, to find

The Goddesse entire. Like a puft of wind

She reacht the Virgin bed. Neare which, there lay

Two maids; to whom, the Graces did conuay,

Figure, and manners. But aboue the head

Of bright Nausicaa, did Pallas tred

The subtle aire; and put the person on

Of Dymas daughter; from comparison

Exempt in businesse Nauall. Like his seed,

Minerua lookt now; [^DLPS157] whom one yeare did breed,

With bright Nausicaa; and who had gaind

Grace in her loue; yet on her thus complaind:

Nausicaa! why bred thy mother one

So negligent, in rites so stood vpon

By other virgins? Thy faite garments lie

Neglected by thee; yet thy Nuptials nie.

When, rich in all attire, both thou shouldst be,

And garments giue to others honoring thee,

That leade thee to the Temple. Thy good name

Growes amongst men for these things; they enflame

Father, and reuerend Mother with delight.

Come; when the Day takes any winke from Night,

Let’s to the riuer, and repurifie

Thy wedding garments: my societie

Shall freely serue thee, for thy speedier aid,

Because thou shalt no more stand on the Maid.

The best of all Phaeacia wooe thy Grace,

Where thou wert bred, and ow’st thy selfe a race.

Vp, and stirre vp to thee thy honourd Sire,

To giue thee Mules and Coach; thee and thy tire;

Veiles, girdles, mantles, early to the flood,

To beare in state. It suites thy high-borne blood;

And farre more fits thee, then to foote so farre;

For far from towne thou knowst the Bath-founts are.

This said; away blue-eyd Minerua went

Vp to Olympus: the firme Continent, [^DLPS158]

That beares in endlesse being, the deified kind;

That’s neither souc’t with showres, nor shooke with wind;

Nor chilld with snow; but where Serenitie flies,

Exempt from clouds; and euer-beamie skies

Circle the glittering hill. And all their daies,

Giue the delights of blessed Deitie praise.

And hither Pallas flew; and left the Maid,

When she had all that might excite her, said.

Strait rose the louely Morne, that vp did raise

Faire-veild Nausicaa; whose dreame, her praise

To Admiration tooke. Who no time spent

To giue the rapture of her vision vent,

To her lou’d parents: whom she found within.

Her mother set at fire, who had to spin

A Rocke, whose tincture with sea-purple shin’d;

Her maids about her. But she chanc’t to find

Her Father going abroad: to Counsell calld

By his graue Senate. And to him, exhald

Her smotherd bosome was. [^DLPS159] Lou’d Sire (said she)

Will you not now command a Coach for me?

Stately and complete? fit for me to beare

To wash at flood, the weeds I cannot weare

Before repurified? Your selfe it fits

To weare faire weeds; as euery man that sits

In place of counsell. And fiue sonnes you haue;

Two wed; three Bachelors; that must be braue

In euery dayes shift, that they may go dance;

For these three last, with these things must aduance

Their states in mariage: and who else but I

Their sister, should their dancing rites supply?

This generall cause she shewd; and would not name

Her mind of Nuptials to her Sire, for shame.

He vnderstood her yet; and thus replide:

Daughter! nor these, nor any grace beside,

I either will denie thee, or deferre,

Mules, nor a Coach, of state and circular,

Fitting at all parts. Go; my seruants shall

Serue thy desires, and thy command in all.

The seruants then (commanded) soone obaid;

Fetcht Coach, and Mules ioynd in it. Then the Maid

Brought from the chamber her rich weeds, and laid

All vp in Coach: in which, her mother plac’t

A maund of victles, varied well in taste,

And other iunkets. Wine she likewise filld

Within a goat-skin bottle, and distilld

Sweete and moist oile into a golden Cruse,

Both for her daughters, and her handmaids vse;

To soften their bright bodies, when they rose

Clensd from their cold baths. Vp to Coach then goes

T • ’obserued Maid: takes both the scourge and raines;

And to her side, her handmaid strait attaines.

Nor these alone, but other virgins grac’t

The Nuptiall Chariot. The whole Beuie plac’t;

Nausicaa scourgd to make the Coach Mules runne;

That neigh’d, and pac’d their vsuall speed; and soone,

Both maids and weeds, brought to the riuer side;

Where Baths for all the yeare, their vse supplide.

Whose waters were so pure, they would not staine;

But still ran faire forth; and did more remaine

Apt to purge staines; for that purg’d staine within,

Which, by the waters pure store, was not seen.

These (here arriu’d,) the Mules vncoacht, and draue

Vp to the gulphie riuers shore, that gaue

Sweet grasse to them. The maids from Coach then tooke

Their cloaths, and steept them in the sable brooke.

Then put them into springs, and trod them cleane,

With cleanly feet; aduentring wagers then,

Who should haue soonest, and most cleanly done.

When hauing throughly cleansd, they spred them on

The floods shore, all in order. And then, where

The waues the pibbles washt, and ground was cleare,

They bath’d themselues; and all with glittring oile,

Smooth’d their white skins: refreshing then their toile

With pleasant dinner, by the riuers side.

Yet still watcht when the Sunne, their cloaths had dride.

Till which time (hauing din’d) Nausicae

With other virgins, did at stool-ball play;

Their shoulder-reaching head-tires laying by.

Nausicae (with the wrists of Ivory)

The liking stroke strooke; singing first a song;

(As custome orderd) and amidst the throng,

Made such a shew; and so past all was seene;

As when the Chast-borne, Arrow-louing Queene, [^DLPS160]

Along the mountaines gliding; either ouer

Spartan Taygetus, whose tops farre discouer;

Or Eurymanthus; in the wilde Bores chace;

Or swift-hou’d Hart; and with her, Ioues faire race

(The field Nymphs) sporting. Amongst whom, to see

How farre Diana had prioritie

(Though all were faire) for fairnesse; yet of all,

(As both by head and forhead being more tall)

Latona triumpht; since the dullest sight,

Might easly iudge, whom her paines brought to light;

Nausicaa so (whom neuer husband tam’d)▪

Aboue them all, in all the beauties flam’d.

But when they now made homewards, and araid;

Ordring their weeds, disorderd as they plaid;

Mules and Coach ready; then Minerua thought,

What meanes to wake Vlysses, might be wrought,

That he might see this louely sighted maid,

Whom she intended, should become his aid:

Bring him to Towne; and his returne aduance.

Her meane was [^DLPS161] this, (though thought a stool-ball chance)

The Queene now (for the vpstroke) strooke the ball

Quite wide off th’other maids; and made it fall

Amidst the whirlpooles. At which, out shriekt all;

And with the shrieke, did wise Vlysses wake:

Who, sitting vp, was doubtfull who should make

That sodaine outcrie; and in mind, thus striu’d:

On what a people am I now arriu’d?

At ciuill hospitable men, that feare

The Gods? or dwell iniurious mortals here?

Vniust, and churlish? like the female crie

Of youth it sounds. What are they? Nymphs bred hie,

On tops of hils? or in the founts of floods?

In herbie marshes? or in leauy woods?

Or are they high-spoke men, I now am neare?

Ile proue, and see. With this, the wary Peere

Crept forth the thicket; and an Oliue bough

Broke with his broad hand; which he did bestow

In couert of his nakednesse; and then,

Put ha • tie head out: Looke how from his den,

A mountaine Lion lookes, [^DLPS162] that, all embrewd

With drops of trees; and weather-beaten hewd;

(Bold of his strength) goes on; and in his eye,

A burning fornace glowes; all bent to prey

On sheepe, or oxen; or the vpland Hart;

His belly charging him; and he must part

Stakes with the Heards-man, in his beasts attempt,

Euen where from rape, their strengths are most exempt:

So wet, so weather-beate, so stung with Need,

Euen to the home-fields of the countries breed,

Vlysses was to force forth his accesse,

Though meerly naked; and his sight did presse

The eyes of soft-haird virgins. Horrid was

His rough appearance to them: the hard passe

He had at sea, stucke by him. All in flight

The Virgins scatterd, frighted with this sight,

About the prominent windings of the flood.

All but Nausicaa fled; but she fast stood:

Pall • s had put a boldnesse in her brest;

And in her faire lims, tender Feare comprest.

And still she stood him, as resolu’d to know

What man he was; or out of what should grow

His strange repaire to them. And here was he

Put to his wisedome; if her virgin knee,

He should be bold, but kneeling, to embrace;

Or keepe aloofe, and t • ie with words of grace,

In humblest suppliance, if he might obtaine

Some couer for his nakednes; and gaine

Her grace to shew and guide him to the Towne.

The last, he best thought, to be worth his owne,

In weighing both well: to keepe still aloofe,

And giue with soft words, his desires their proofe;

Lest pressing so neare, as to touch her knee,

He might incense her maiden modestie.

This faire and fil’d speech then, shewd this was he.

Let me beseech (O Queene) this truth of thee;

Are you of mortall, or the deified race? [^DLPS163]

If of the Gods, that th’ample heauens embrace;

I can resemble you to none aboue,

So neare as to the chast-borne birth of Ioue,

The beamie Cynthia. Her you full present,

In grace of euery God-like lineament;

Her goodly magnitude; and all th’addresse

You promise of her very perfectnesse.

If sprong of humanes, that inhabite earth;

Thrice blest are both the authors of your birth;

Thrice blest your brothers, that in your deserts,

Must, euen to rapture, beare delighted hearts;

To see so like the first trim of a tree,

Your forme adorne a dance. But most ble • t, he

Of all that breathe, that hath the gift t’engage

Your bright necke in the yoke of mariage;

And decke his house with your commanding merit.

I haue not seene a man of so much spirit.

Nor man, nor woman, I did euer see,

At all parts equall to the parts in thee.

T’enioy your sight, doth Admiration seise

My eies, and apprehensiue faculties.

Lately in Delos (with a charge of men

Arriu’d, that renderd me most wretched then,

Now making me thus naked) I beheld

The burthen of a Palme, whose issue sweld

About Apollos Phane; and that put on

A grace like thee; for Earth had neuer none

Of all her Syluane issue so adorn’d:

Into amaze my very soule was turnd,

To giue it obseruation; as now thee

To view (O Virgin) a stupiditie

Past admiration strikes me; ioynd with feare

To do a suppliants due, and prease so neare,

As to embrace thy knees. Nor is it strange;

For one of fresh and firmest spirit, would change

T’embrace so bright an obiect. But, for me,

A cruell habite of calamitie,

Prepar’d the strong impression thou hast made:

For this last Day did flie Nights twentith shade

Since I, at length, escapt the sable seas;

When in the meane time, th’vnrelenting prease

Of waues and sterne stormes, tost me vp and downe,

From th’Ile Ogygia: and now God hath throwne

My wracke on this shore; that perhaps I may

My miseries vary here: for yet their stay,

I feare, heauen hath not orderd: though before

These late afflictions, it hath lent me store.

O Queene, daine pitie then, since first to you

My Fate importunes my distresse to vow.

No other Dame, nor man, that this Earth owne,

And neighbour Citie, I haue seene or knowne.

The Towne then shew me; giue my nakednes

Some shroud to shelter it, if to these seas,

Linnen or woollen, you haue brought to clense.

God giue you, in requitall, all th’amends

Your heart can wish: a husband, family,

And good agreement: Nought beneath the skie,

More sweet, more worthy is, then firme consent

Of man and wife, in houshold gouernment.

It ioyes their wishers well; their enemies wounds;

But to themselues, the speciall good redounds.

She answerd: [^DLPS164] Stranger! I discerne in thee,

Nor Sloth, nor Folly raignes; and yet I see,

Th’art poore and wretched. In which I conclude,

That Industry nor wisedome make endude

Men with those gifts, that make them best to th’eie;

Ioue onely orders mans felicitie.

To good and bad, his pleasure fashions still,

The whole proportion of their good and ill.

And he perhaps hath formd this plight in thee,

Of which, thou must be patient, as he, free.

But after all thy wandrings, since thy way,

Both to our Earth, and neare our Citie, lay,

As being exposde to our cares to relieue;

Weeds, and what else, a humane hand should giue,

To one so suppliant, and tam’d with woe;

Thou shalt not want. Our Citie, I will show;

And tell our peoples name: This neighbor Towne,

And all this kingdome, the Phaeacians owne.

And (since thou seemdst so faine, to know my birth;

And mad’st a question, if of heauen or earth)

This Earth hath bred me; and my Fathers name

Alcinous is; that in the powre and frame

Of this Iles rule, is supereminent.

Thus (passing him) she to the Virgins went.

And said: Giue stay, both to your feet and fright;

Why thus disperse ye, for a mans meere sight?

Esteeme you him a Cyclop, that long since

Made vse to prey vpon our Citizens? [^DLPS165]

This man, no moist man is; (nor watrish thing,

That’s euer flitting; euer rauishing

All it can compasse; and, like it, doth range

In rape of women; neuer staid in change)

This man is truly [^DLPS166] manly, wise, and staid;

In soule more rich; the more to sense decaid.

Who, nor will do, nor suffer to be done,

Acts leud and abiect; nor can such a one

Greete the Phaeacians, with a mind enuious;

Deare to the Gods they are; and he is pious.

Besides, diuided from the world we are;

The outpart of it; billowes circulare

The sea reuoluing, round about our shore;

Nor is there any man, that enters more

Then our owne countrimen, with what is brought

From other countries. This man, minding nought

But his reliefe: a poore vnhappie wretch,

Wrackt here; and hath no other land to fetch.

Him now we must prouide for; from Ioue▪ come

All strangers, [^DLPS167] and the needie of a home.

Who any gift, though ne’re so small it be,

Esteeme as great, and take it gratefully.

And therefore Virgins, giue the stranger food,

And wine; and see ye bath him in the flood;

Neare to some shore, to shelter most enclin’d;

To cold Bath-bathers, hurtfull is the wind.

Not onely rugged making th’outward skin,

But by his thin powres, pierceth parts within.

This said; their flight in a returne they set;

And did Vlysses with all grace entreate:

Shewd him a shore, wind • proofe, and full of shade:

By him a shirt, and vtter mantle laid.

A golden Iugge of liquid oile did adde;

Bad wash; and all things as Nausicaa bad.

Diuine Vlysses would not vse their aid;

But thus bespake them: [^DLPS168] Euery louely maid,

Let me entreate to stand a litle by;

That I alone the fresh flood may apply, [^DLPS169]

To clense my bosome of the sea-wrought brine.

And then vse oile; which long time did not shine

On my poore shoulders. Ile not wash in sight

Of faire-haird maidens. I should blush outright,

To bathe all bare by such a virgin light.

They mou’d, and musde, a man had so much grace;

And told their Mistris, what a man he was.

He clensd his broad-soild-shoulders; backe and head

Yet neuer tam’d. But now, had fome and weed,

Knit in the faire curles. Which dissolu’d; and he

Slickt all with sweet oile: the sweet charitie,

The vntoucht virgin shewd in his attire,

He cloth’d him with. Then Pallas put a fire,

More then before, into his sparkling eies;

His late soile set off, with his soone fresh guise.

His locks (clensd) curld the more; and matcht (in power

To please an eye) the Hyacinthian flower.

And as a workman, that can well combine

Siluer and gold; and make both striue to shine;

As being by Vulcan, and Minerua too,

Taught how farre either may be vrg’d to go, [^DLPS170]

In strife of eminence; when worke sets forth

A worthy soule, to bodies of such worth;

No thought reprouing th’act, in any place;

Nor Art no debt to Natures liueliest grace:

So Pallas wrought in him, a grace as great,

From head to shoulders; and ashore did seate

His goodly presence. To which, such a guise

He shewd in going, that it rauisht eies.

All which (continude) as he sate apart;

Nausicaas eye strooke wonder through her heart; [^DLPS171]

Who thus bespake her consorts: Heare me, you

Faire-wristed Virgins; this rare man (I know)

Treds not our country earth, against the will

Of some God, thron’d on the Olympian hill.

He shewd to me, till now, not worth the note;

But now he lookes, as he had Godhead got.

I would to heauen, my husband were no worse;

And would be calld no better; but the course

Of other husbands pleasd to dwell out here:

Obserue and serue him, with our vtmost cheare.

She said; they heard, and did. He drunke and eate

Like to a Harpy; hauing toucht no meate

A long before time. But Nausicaa now

Thought of the more grace, she did lately vow:

Had horse to Chariot ioynd; and vp she rose:

Vp chear’d her guest, and said: Guest, now dispose

Your selfe for Towne; that I may let you see

My Fathers Court; where all the Peeres will be

Of our Phaeacian State. At all parts then,

Obserue to whom, and what place y’are t’attain;

Though I need vsher you with no aduice,

Since I suppose you absolutely wise.

While we the fields passe, and mens labours there;

So long (in these maids guides) directly beare

Vpon my Chariot (I must go before,

For cause that after comes: to which, this more

Be my induction) you shall then soone end

Your way to Towne; whose Towres you see ascend

To such a steepnesse. On whose either side,

A faire Port stands; to which is nothing wide

An enterers passage: on whose both hands ride

Ships in faire harbors; [^DLPS172] which, once past, you win

The goodly market place, (that circles in

A Phane to Neptune, built of curious stone,

And passing ample) where munition,

Gables, and masts men make, and polisht oares;

For the Phaeacians are not conquerors

By bowes nor quiuers; Oares, masts, ships they are,

With which they plow the sea, and wage their warre.

And now the cause comes, why I leade the way,

Not taking you to Coach. The men that sway

In worke of those tooles, that so fit our State,

Are rude Mechanicals; that rare and late

Worke in the market place; and those are they

Whose bitter tongues I shun; who strait would say,

(For these vile vulgars are extreamly proud,

And fouly languag’d) What, is he allowd

To coach it with Nausicaa? so large set,

And fairely fashiond? where were these two met?

He shall be sure her husband. She hath bene

Gadding in some place; and (of forraine men,

Fitting her fancie) kindly brought him home

In her owne ship. He must, of force, be come

From some farre region; we haue no such man.

It may be (praying hard, when her heart ran

On some wisht husband) out of heauen, some God

Dropt in her lap; and there lies she at rode,

Her complete life time. But, in sooth, if she

Ranging abroad, a husband such as he,

Whom now we saw, laid hand on; she was wise,

For none of all our Nobles, are of prise

Enough for her: he must beyond-sea come,

That wins her high mind, and will haue her home.

Of our Peeres, many haue importun’d her,

Yet she will none. Thus these folks will conferre

Behind my backe; or (meeting) to my face,

The foule-mouth rout dare put home this disgrace.

And this would be reproches to my fame;

For euen my selfe, iust anger would enflame,

If any other virgin I should see

(Her parents liuing) keepe the companie

Of any man; to any end of loue,

Till open Nuptials should her act approue.

And therefore heare me guest; and take such way,

That you your selfe may compasse, in your stay,

Your quicke deduction, by my Fathers grace;

And meanes to reach the roote of all your race.

We shall, not farre out of our way to Towne,

A neuer-felld Groue find, that Poplars crowne;

To Pallas sacred, where a fountaine flowes;

And round about the Groue, a Medow growes;

In which, my Father holds a Mannor house;

Deckt all with Orchards, greene, and odorous;

As farre from Towne, as one may heare a shout.

There stay, and rest your foote paines; till full out

We reach the Citie. Where, when you may guesse

We are arriu’d, and enter our accesse

Within my Fathers Court: then put you on

For our Ph • cian State; where, to be showne

My Fathers house, desire. Each infant there

Can bring you to it; and your selfe will cleare

Distinguish it from others: for no showes,

The Citie buildings make; compar’d with those

That King Alcinous seate doth celebrate.

In whose roofes, and the Court, (where men of state,

And suiters sit and stay) when you shall hide:

Strait passe it, entring further: where abide

My Mother, with her withdrawne houswiferies;

Who still sits in the fire • shine, and applies

Her Rocke, all purple, and of pompous show:

Her Chaire plac’t gainst a Pillar: all arow

Her maids behind her set; and • o her here,

My Fathers dining Throne lookes. Seated where

He powres his choice of wine in, like a God.

This view once past; for th’end of your abode,

Addresse suite to my Mother; that her meane,

May make the day of your redition scene.

And you may frolicke strait, though farre away

You are in distance from your wished stay.

For if she once be won to wish you well,

Your Hope may instantly your Pasport seale;

And thenceforth sure abide to see your friends,

Faire house, and all, to which your heart contends.

This said; she vsde her shining scourge, and lasht

Her Mules, that soone the shore left, where she washt;

And (knowing well the way) their pace was fleet,

And thicke they gatherd vp their nimble feet.

Which yet [^DLPS173] she temperd so; and vsde her scourge

With so much skill; as not to ouer-v • ge

The foote behind; and make them straggle so,

From close societie. Firme together go

Vlysses and her maids. And now the Sunne

Sunke to the waters; when they all had wonne

The neuer-feld, and sound-exciting wood,

Sacred to Pallas: where the God-like good

Vlysses rested; and to Pallas praid:

Heare me, of Goate-kept Ioue, th’vnconquerd Maid;

Now throughly heare me; [^DLPS174] since in all the time

Of all my wracke, my pray’rs could neuer clime

Thy far-off eares; when noisefull Neptune tost

Vpon his watry brissels, my imbost

And rock • torne body: heare yet now, and daine

I may of the Phaeacian State obtaine

Pitie, and grace. Thus praid he; and she heard:

By no meanes yet (exposde to sight) appear’d,

For feare t’offend her Vnkle; the supreme

Of all the [^DLPS175] Sea-Gods; whose wrath still extreme

Stood to Vlysses; and would neuer cease,

Till with his Country shore, he crownd his peace.

T Hus praid the wise, and God-obseruing Man.

The Maid, by free force of her Palfreys, wan

Accesse to Towne; and the renowmed Court,

Reacht of her Father; where, within the Port,

She staid her Coach; and round about her came

Her Brothers, (made as of immortall frame.)

Who yet disdaind not, for her loue, meane deeds;

But tooke from [^DLPS176] [^DLPS177] Coach her Mules, brought in her weeds.

And she ascends her chamber; where puruaid

A quicke fire was, by her old chamber-maid

Eurymedusa, th’ Aper • n borne;

And brought by sea, from Apera, t’adorne

The Court of great Alcinous; because

He gaue to all, the blest Phaeacians lawes;

And, like a heauen-borne Powre in speech, acquir’d

The peoples eares. To one then so admir’d,

Eurymedusa was esteemd no worse,

Then worth the gift: yet now growne old, was Nurse

To Ivory-armd Nausicaa; gaue heate

To all her fires, and drest her priuie meate.

Then rose Vlysses, and made way to Towne;

Which ere he reacht, a mightie mist was throwne

By Pallas round about him; in her Care,

Lest in the sway of enuies popular,

Some proud Phaeacian might foule language passe,

Iustle him vp, and aske him what he was.

Entring the louely Towne yet: [^DLPS178] through the cloud

Pallas appeard; and like a yong wench showd

Bea • ng a pitcher; Stood be • ore him so,

As if obiected purposely to know

What there he needed; whom he questiond thus:

Know you not (daughter) where Alcino • s,

That rules this Towne, dwels? I, a poore distrest

Meere stranger here; know none I may request,

To make this Court knowne to me. She wordreplied:

Strange Father; I will see you satisfied

In that request: my Father dwels, iust by

The house you seeke for; but go silently;

Nor aske, nor speake to any other; I

Shall be enough to shew your way: the men

That here inhabite, do not entertain

With ready kindnesse, strangers; of what worth

Or state soeuer: nor haue taken forth

Lessons of ciuill vsage, or respect

To men beyond them. They (vpon their powres

Of swift ships building) top the watry towres:

And Ioue • ath giuen them ships, [^DLPS179] for saile so wrought,

They cut a fether, and command a thought.

This said; she vsherd him; and after, he

Trod in the swift steps of the Deitie.

The free-saild sea-men could not get a sight

Of our Vlysses, yet: though he foreright,

Both by their houses and their persons past:

Pallas about him, such a darknesse cast,

By her diuine powre, and her reuerend care,

She would not giue the Towne-borne, cause to stare.

He wonderd, as he past, to see the Ports;

The shipping in them; and for all resorts,

The goodly market steds; and Iles beside

For the Heroes; walls so large and wide;

Rampires so high, and of such strength withall;

It would with wonder, any eye appall.

At last they reacht the Court; and Pallas said:

Now, honourd stranger; I will see obaid

Your will, to shew our Rulers house; tis here;

Where you shall find, Kings celebrating cheare;

Enter amongst them; nor admit a feare;

More bold a man is, he preuailes the more;

Though man nor place, he euer saw before.

You first shall find the Queene in Court, whose name

Is Arete: [^DLPS180] of parents borne, the same

That was the King her Spouse: their Pedigree

I can report: the great Earth-shaker, he

Of Periboea, (that her sex out-shone,

And yongest daughter was, t’ Eurymedon;

Who of th’vnmeasur’d-minded Giants, swaid

Th’Imperiall Scepter; and the pride allaid

Of men so impious, [^DLPS181] with cold death; and died

Himselfe soone after) got the magnified

In mind, Nausithous; who the kingdomes state

First held in supreame rule. Nausithous gat

Rhexenor, and Aicinous, now King:

Rhexenor (whose seed did no male fruite spring;

And whom the siluer-bow-glac’t Phoebus slue

Yong in the Court) his shed blood did renew

In onely Arete; who now is Spouse

To him that rules the kingdome, in this house,

And is her Vnkle; King Alcinous.

Who honors her, past equall. She may boast

More honor of him, [^DLPS182] then the honord most

Of any wife in earth, can of her Lord;

How many more soeuer, Realmes affoord,

That keepe house vnder husbands. Yet no more

Her husband honors her, then her blest store

Of gracious children. All the Citie cast

Eyes on her, as a Goddesse; and giue taste

Of their affections to her, in their praires,

Still as she decks the streets. For all affaires,

Wrapt in contention, she dissolues to men.

Whom she affects, she wants no mind to deigne

Goodnesse enough. If her heart stand inclin’d

To your dispatch; hope all you wish to find;

Your friends, your longing family, and all,

That can within your most affections fall.

This said; away the grey-eyd Goddesse flew

Along th’vntamed sea. Left the louely hew,

Scheria presented. Out flew Marathon,

And ample-streeted Athens lighted on.

Where, to the house th • casts so [^DLPS183] thicke a shade,

Of Erectheus; she ingression made.

Vlysses, [^DLPS184] to the loftie-builded Court

Of King Alcinous, made bold resort;

Yet in his heart cast many a thought, before

The brazen pauement of the rich Court, bore

His enterd person. Like heauens two maine Lights,

The roomes illustrated, both daies and nights.

On euery side stood firme a wall of brasse,

Euen from the threshold to the inmost passe;

Which bore a roofe vp, that all Saphire was;

The brazen thresholds both sides, did enfold

Siluer Pilasters, hung with ga • es of gold;

Whose Portall was of silue • ; ouer which

A golden Cornish did the front enrich.

On each side, Dogs of gold and siluer fram’d,

The houses Guard stood; which the Deitie ( [^DLPS185] lam’d)

With knowing inwards had inspir’d; and made,

That Death nor Age, should their estates inuade.

Along the wall, stood euery way a throne;

From th’entry to the Lobbie: euery one,

Cast ouer with a rich-wrought cloth of state.

Beneath which, the Phaeacian Princes sate

At wine and food; and feasted all the yeare.

Youths forg’d of gold, at euery table there,

Stood bolding flaming torches; that, in night

Gaue through the house, each honourd Guest, his light.

And (to encounter feast with houswifry)

In one roome fiftie women did apply

Their seuerall tasks. Some, apple-colourd corne

Ground in faire Quernes; and some did spindles turne.

Some worke in loomes: no hand, least rest receiues;

But all had motion, apt, as Aspen leaues.

And from the weeds they woue, (so fast they laid,

And so thicke thrust together, thred by thred)

That th’oile (of which the wooll had drunke his fill)

Did with his moisture, in light dewes distill.

As much as the Phaeacian men exceld

All other countrimen, in Art to build

A swift-saild ship: so much the women there,

For worke of webs, past other women were.

Past meane, by Pallas meanes, they vnderstood

The grace of good works; and had wits as good.

Without the Hall, and close vpon the Gate,

A goodly Orchard ground was situate,

Of neare ten Acres; about which, was led

A loftie Quickset. In it flourished

High and broad fruit trees, that Pomegranats bore;

Sweet Figs, [^DLPS186] Peares, Oliues, and a number more

Most vsefull Plants, did there produce their store.

Whose fruits, the hardest Winter could not kill;

Nor hotest Summer wither. There was still

Fruite in his proper season, all the yeare.

Sweet Zephire breath’d vpon them, blasts that were

Of varied tempers: these, he made to beare

Ripe fruites: these blossomes: Peare grew after Peare;

Apple succeeded apple; Grape, the Grape;

Fig after Fig came; Time made neuer rape,

Of any daintie there. A spritely vine

Spred here his roote; whose fruite, a hote sun-shine

Made ripe betimes. Here grew another, greene.

Here, some were gathering; here, some pressing seene.

A large-allotted seuerall, each fruite had;

And all th’adornd grounds, their apparance made,

In flowre and fruite, at which the King did aime,

To the precisest order he could claime.

Two Fountaines grac’t the garden; of which, one

Powrd out a winding streame, that ouer-runne

The grounds for their vse chiefly: th’other went

Close by the loftie Pallace gate; and lent

The Citie his sweet benefit: and thus

The Gods the Court deckt of Alcinous.

Patient Vlysses stood a while at gaze;

But (hauing all obseru’d) made instant pace

Into the Court; where all the Peeres he found,

And Captaines of Phaeacia; with Cups crownd,

Offring to sharp-eyd [^DLPS187] Hermes: to whom, last

They vsde to sacrifise; when Sleepe had cast

His inclination through their thoughts. But these,

Vlysses past; and forth went; nor their eies

Tooke note of him: for Pallas stopt the light

With mists about him; that, vnstaid, he might

First to Alcinous, and Arete,

Present his person; and, of both them, she

(By Pallas counsell) was to haue the grace

Of foremost greeting. Therefore his embrace,

He cast about her knee. And then off flew

The heauenly aire that hid him. When his view,

With silence and with Admiration strooke

The Court quite through: but thus he silence broake:

Diuine Rhexenors of spring, [^DLPS188] Arete;

To thy most honourd husband, and to thee,

A man whom many labours haue distrest,

Is come for comfort; and to euery guest:

To all whom, heauen vouchsafe delightsome liues;

And after, to your issue that suruiues,

A good resignement of the Goods ye leaue;

With all the honor that your selues receiue

Amongst your people. Onely this of me,

Is the Ambition; that I may but see

(By your vouchsaft meanes; and betimes vouchsaft)

My country earth; since I haue long bin left

To labors, and to errors, barrd from end;

And farre from benefit of any friend.

He said no more; but left them dumbe with that;

Went to the harth, and in the ashes sat,

Aside the fire. At last their silence brake;

And Echinaeus, th’old Heroe spake.

A man that all Phaeacians past in yeares,

And in perswasiue eloquence, all the Peeres;

Knew much, and vsde it well; and thus spake he:

Alcinous! [^DLPS189] it shewes not decently;

Nor doth your honor, what you see, admit;

That this your guest, should thus abiectly sit:

His chaire the earth; the harth his cushion;

Ashes, as if apposde for food: a Throne

Adornd with duerites, stands you more in hand

To see his person plac’t in; and command

That instantly your Heralds fill in wine;

That to the God that doth in lightnings shine,

We may do sacrifice: for he is there,

Where these his reuerend suppliants appeare.

Let what you haue within, be brought abroad,

To sup the stranger. All these would haue showd

This fit respect to him; but that they stay

For your precedence, that should grace the way.

When this had wordadded to the well-inclin’d,

And sacred order of Alcinous mind;

Then, of the great in wit, the hand he seisd;

And from the ashes, his faire person raisd;

Ad • a • ’t him to a well-adorned Throne;

And from his seate raisd his most loued sonne,

(Laodamas, that next himselfe was set)

To giue him place▪ The handmaid then did get

An Ewre of gold, with water fild; which plac’t

Vpon a Caldron, all with siluer grac’t)

She powrd out on their hands. And then was spred

A Table, which the Butler set with bread;

As others seru’d with other food, the boord;

In all the choise, the present could affoord.

Vlysses, meate and wine tooke; and then thus;

The King the Herald calld: Pontonous!

Serue wine through all the house; that all may pay

Rites to the Lightner, who is still in way

With humble suppliants; and them pursues,

With all benigne, and hospitable dues.

Pontonous, gaue act to all he willd,

And hony sweetnesse-giuing-minds- [^DLPS190] wine filld;

Disposing it in cups for all to drinke.

All hauing drunke, what eithers heart could thinke

Fit for due sacrifice; Alcinous said:

Heare me, ye Dukes, that the Phaeacians leade;

And you our Counsellors; that I may now

Discharge the charge, my mind suggests to you,

For this our guest: Feast past, and this nights sleepe;

Next morne (our Senate summond) we will keepe

Iusts, sacred to the Gods; and this our Guest

Receiue in solemne Court, with fitting Feast:

Then thinke of his returne; that vnder hand

Of our deduction; his naturall land

(Without more toile or care; and with delight;

And that soone giuen him; how farre hence dissite

Soeuer it can be) he may a • cend;

And in the meane time, [^DLPS191] without wrong attend,

Or other want; fit meanes to that ascent.

What, after, austere Fates, shall make th’euent

Of his lifes thred (now spinning, and began

When his paind mother, freed his roote of man)

He must endure in all kinds. [^DLPS192] If some God,

Perhaps abides with vs, in his abode;

And other things will thinke vpon then we;

The Gods wils stand: who euer yet were free

Of their appearance to vs; when to them

We offerd Hecatombs, of fit esteem.

And would at feast sit with vs; euen where we

Orderd our Session. They would likewise be

Encountrers of vs, when in way, alone

About his fit affaires, went any one.

Not let them cloke themselues in any care,

To do vs comfort; we as neare them are,

As are the Cyclops; or the impious race,

Of earthy Giants, that would heauen outface.

Vlysses answerd; Let some other doubt

Employ your thoughts, then what your words giue out;

Which intimate a kind of doubt, that I

Should shadow in this shape, a Deitie.

I beare no such least semblance; or in wit,

Vertue, or person. What may well befit

One of those mortals, whom you chiefly know,

Beares vp and downe, the burthen of the woe

Appropriate to poore man; giue that to me;

Of whose mones I sit, in the most degree;

And might say more; sustaining griefes that all

The Gods consent to: no one twixt their fall

And my vnpitied shoulders, letting downe

The least diuersion. Be the grace then showne,

To let me taste your free-giuen food, in peace:

Through greatest griefe, the belly must haue ease.

Worse then an enuious belly, nothing is.

It will command his strict Necessities,

Of men most grieu’d in body or in mind,

That are in health, and will not giue their kind,

A desperate wound. When most with cause I grieue,

It bids me still, Eate man, and drinke, and liue;

And this makes all forgot. What euer ill

I euer beare; it euer bids me fill.

But this ease is but • orc’t, and will not last,

Till what the mindlikes, be as well embrac’t;

And therefore let me wish you would partake

In your late purpose; when the Morne shall make

Her next appearance; daigne me but the grace,

(Vnhappie man) that I may once embrace

My country earth: though I be still thrust at,

By ancient ils; yet make me but • ee that;

And then let life go. When (withall) I see

My high-rooft large house, lands and family.

This, all approu’d; and each, willd euery one;

Since he hath said so fairly; set him gone.

Feast past, and sacrifice; to sleepe, all vow

Their eies at eithers house. Vlysses now,

Was left here with Alcinous, and his Queene,

The all-lou’d Arete. The handmaids then

The vessell of the Banquet, tooke away.

When Arete set eye on his array;

Knew both his out, and vnderweed, which she

Made with her maids; and musde by what meanes he

Obtaind their wearing: which she made request

To know; and wings gaue to these speeches: Guest!

First let me aske, [^DLPS193] what, and from whence you are?

And then, who grac’t you with the weeds you weare?

Said you not lately, you had err’d at seas?

And thence arriu’d here? Laertides

To this, [^DLPS194] thus answerd: Tis a paine (O Queene)

Still to be opening wounds wrought deepe and greene;

Of which, the Gods haue opened store in me;

Yet your will must be seru’d: Farre hence, at sea,

There lies an Ile, that beares Ogygias name;

Where Atlas daughter, the ingenious Dame,

Faire-haird Calypso liues: a Goddesse graue,

And with whom, men, nor Gods, societie haue.

Yet I (past man vnhappie) liu’d alone,

By heau’ns wrath forc’t) her house companion.

For Ioue had with a feruent lightning cleft

My ship in twaine; and farre at blacke sea left

Me and my souldiers; all whose liues I lost.

I, in mine armes the keele tooke, and was tost

Nine dayes together vp from waue to waue.

The tenth grim Night, the angry Deities draue

Me and my wracke, on th’Ile, in which doth dwell

Dreadfull Calypso; who exactly well

Receiu’d and nourisht me; and promise made,

To make me deathlesse: nor should Age inuade

My powres with his deserts, through all my dayes.

All mou’d not me; and therefore, on her stayes,

Seuen yeares she made me lie: and there spent I

The long time; steeping in the miserie

Of ceaslesse teares, the Garments I did weare

From her faire hand. The eight reuolued yeare,

(Or by her chang’d mind; or by charge of Ioue)

She gaue prouokt way to my wisht remoue;

And in a many-ioynted ship, with wine,

(Daintie in sauour) bread, and weeds diuine;

Sign’d with a harmlesse and sweet wind, my passe.

Then, seuenteene dayes at sea, I homeward was;

And by the eighteenth, the darke hils appeard,

That your Earth thrusts vp. Much my heart was cheard;

(Vnhappie man) for that was but a beame;

To shew I yet, had agonies extreame,

To put in sufferance: which th’Earth-shaker sent;

Crossing my way, with tempests violent;

Vnmeasur’d seas vp-lifting: nor would giue

The billowes leaue, to let my vessell liue

The least time quiet: that euen sigh’d to beare

Their bitter outrage: which, at last, did teare

Her sides in peeces, set on by the winds.

I yet, through-swomme the waues, that your shore binds,

Till wind and water threw me vp to it;

When, coming forth, a ruthlesse billow smit

Against huge rocks, and an acceslesse shore

My mangl’d body. Backe againe I bore,

And swom till I was falne vpon a flood,

Whose shores, me thought, on good aduantage stood,

For my receit: rock-free, and fenc’t from wind.

And this I put for, gathering vp my mind.

Then the diuine Night came; and tredding Earth,

Close by the flood, that had from Ioue her birth.

Within a thicket I reposde; when round

I ruffld vp falne leaues in heape; and found

(Let fall from heauen) a sleepe interminate.

And here, my heart (long time excruciate)

Amongst the leaues I rested all that night;

Euen till the morning and meridian light.

The Sunne declining then; delightsome sleepe,

No longer laid my temples in his steepe;

But forth I went, and on the shore might see

Your daughters maids play. Like a Deitie

She shin’d aboue them; and I praid to her:

And she, in disposition did prefer

Noblesse, and wisedome, no more low then might

Become the goodnesse of a Goddesse height.

Nor would you therefore hope (supposde distrest

As I was then, and old) to find the least

Of any Grace from her; being yonger farre.

With yong folkes, Wisedome makes her commerce rare.

Yet she in all abundance did bestow,

Both wine (that makes the [^DLPS195] blood in humanes grow)

And food; and bath’d me in the flood; and gaue

The weeds to me, which now ye see me haue.

This, through my griefes I tell you; and tis true.

Alcinous answerd: Guest! my daughter knew

Least of what most you giue her; nor became

The course she tooke, to let, with euery Dame,

Your person lackey; nor hath with them brought

Your selfe home to; which first you had besought.

O blame her not (said he) Heroicall Lord;

Nor let me heare, against her worth, a word.

She faultlesse is; and wisht I would haue gone

With all her women home: but I alone

Would venture my receit here; hauing feare

And reuerend aw of accidents that were

Of likely issue: both your wrath to moue,

And to inflame the common peoples loue,

Of speaking ill: to which they soone giue place;

We men are all a most suspicious race.

My guest (said he) I vse not to be stird

To wrath too rashly; and where are preferd

To mens conceits, things that may both waies faile;

The noblest euer should the most preuaile.

Would Ioue our Father, Pallas, and the Sunne,

That (were you still as now, and could but runne

One Fate with me) you would my daughter wed,

And be my son-in-law; still vowd to leade

Your rest of life here. I, a house would giue,

And houshold goods; so freely you would liue,

Confin’d with vs: but gainst you will, shall none

Containe you here; since that were violence done

To Ioue our Father. For your passage home,

That you may well know, we can ouercome

So great a voyage; thus it shall succeed:

To morrow shall our men take all their heed

(While you securely sleepe) to see the seas

In calmest temper; and (if that will please)

Shew you your Country and your house ere night;

Though farre beyond Euboea be that sight.

And this Euboea (as our subiects say,

That haue bin there, and seene) is farre away

Farthest from vs, of all the parts they know.

And made the triall, when they helpt to row

The gold-lockt Rhadamanth; to giue him view

Of Earth-borne Tityus: whom their speeds did shew

(In that far-off Euboea) the same day

They set from hence; and home made good their way,

With ease againe, and him they did conuay.

Which, I report to you, to let you see

How swift my ships are; and how matchlesly

My yong Phaecians, with their oares preuaile,

To beate the sea through, and assist a saile.

This cheard Vlysses; who in priuate praid:

I would to Ioue our Father, what he said,

He could performe at all parts; he should then

Be glorified for euer; and I gaine

My naturall Country. This discourse they had;

When faire-armd Arete, her handmaids bad

A bed make in the Portico; and plie

With cloaths; the Couering Tapestrie;

The Blankets purple. Wel • napt Wastcoates too,

To weare for more warmth. What these had to do,

They torches tooke, and did. The Bed puruaid;

They mou’d Vlysses for his rest; and said:

Come Guest, your Bed is fit; now frame to rest.

Motion of sleepe, was gracious to their Guest;

Which now he tooke profoundly; being laid

Within a loop-hole Towre, where was conuaid

The sounding Portico. The King tooke rest

In a retir’d part of the house; where drest

The Queene her selfe, a Bed, and Trundlebed;

And by her Lord, reposde her reuerend head.

N Ow when the Rosie-fingerd morne arose;

The sacred powre Alcinous did dispose

Did likewise rise; and like him, left his Ease,

The Cittie-racer Laertiades.

The Councell at the Nauie was design’d;

To which Alcinous, with the sacred mind,

Came first of all. On polisht stones they sate

Neare to the Nauie. To increase the state,

Minerua tooke the heralds forme on her

That seru’d Alcinous; studious to prefer

Vlysses Suite for home. About the towne

She made quicke way; [^DLPS196] and fild with the renowne

Of that designe, the eares of euery man:

Proclaiming thus; Peers Phaeacensian!

And men of Councell: all haste to the Court;

To heare the stranger that made late resort

To king Alcinous: long time lost at Sea;

And is in person, like a Deitie.

This, all their powres set vp; and spirit instild;

And straight the Court and seats, with men were fild.

The whole State wonderd at Laertes Son

When they beheld him. Pallas put him on

A supernaturall, and heauenly dresse;

Enlarg’d him with a height, and goodlinesse

In breast, and shoulders; that he might appeare

Gracious, and graue, and reuerend; and beare

A perfect hand on his performance there,

In all the trials they resolu’d t’impose.

All met; and gatherd in attention close;

Alcinous thus bespake them: [^DLPS197] Dukes, and Lords;

Heare me digest, my hearty thoughts in words:

This Stranger here whose trauels found my Court;

I know not; nor can tell if his resort

From East or West comes: But his suite is this;

That to his Countrey earth we would dismis

His hither-forced person; and doth beare

The minde to passe it vnder euery Peere:

Whom I prepare, and stirre vp; making knowne

My free desire of his deduction.

Nor shall there euer, any other man

That tries the goodnesse Phaeacensian,

In me, and my Courts entertainement; stay

Mourning for passage, vnder least delay.

Come then; A ship into the sacred seas,

New-built, now lanch we; and from out our prease;

Chuse two and fiftie Youths; of all, the best

To vse an oare. All which, see straight imprest;

And in their Oare-bound seates. Let others hie

Home to our Court; commanding instantly

The solemne preparation of a feast;

In which, prouision may for any guest

Be made at my charge. Charge of these low things,

I giue our Youth. You Scepter-bearing kings,

Consort me home; and helpe with grace to vse

This guest of ours: no one man shall refuse.

Some other of you, haste, and call to vs

The sacred singer, graue Demodocus;

To whom hath God giuen, song that can excite

The heart of whom he listeth with delight.

This said, he led. The Scepter-bearers lent

Their free attendance; and with all speede, went

The herald for the sacred man in song.

Youths two and fiftie; chosen from the throng

Went, as was willd, to the vntam’d seas shore;

Where come; they lancht the ship: the Mast it bore

Aduanc’t, sailes hoised; euery seate, his Ore

Gaue with a lether thong: the deepe moist then

They further reacht. The drie streets flowd with men;

That troup’t vp to the kings capacious Court.

Whose Porticos, were chok’t with the resort:

Whose wals were hung with men: yong, old, thrust there,

In mighty concourse; for whose promist cheere

Alcinous slue twelue Sheepe; eight white-toothd Swine:

Two crook-hancht Beeues; which flead, and drest, diuine

The show was of so many a iocund Guest

All set together, at so set a feast.

To whose accomplisht state, the Herald then

The louely Singer led; [^DLPS198] Who past all mean

The Muse affected; gaue him good, and ill;

His eies put out; but put in soule at will.

His place was giuen him, in a chaire, all grac’t

With siluer studs, and gainst a Pillar plac’t;

Where, as the Center to the State, he rests;

And round about, the circle of the Guests.

The Herald, on a Pinne, aboue his head

His soundfull harpe hung: to whose height, he led

His hand for taking of it downe at will.

A Boord set by, with food; and forth did fill

A Bowle of wine, to drinke at his desire.

The rest then, fell to feast; and when the fire

Of appetite was quencht: the Muse inflam’d

The sacred Singer. Of men highliest fam’d,

He sung the glories; and a Poeme pend,

That in applause, [^DLPS199] did ample heauen ascend.

Whose subiect was, the sterne contention

Betwixt Vlysses, and Great Thetis Sonne;

As, at a banket, sacred to the Gods

In dreadfull language, they exprest their ods.

When Agamemnon, sat reioyc’t in soule

To heare the Greeke Peeres iarre, in termes so foule;

For Augur Phoebus, in presage had told

The king of men, (desirous to vnfold

The wars perplexed end; and being therefore gone

In heauenly Pythia, to the Porch of stone,)

That then the end, of all griefes should begin,

Twixt Greece, and Troy; when Greece (with strife to winne

That wisht conclusion) in her kings should iarre;

And pleade, if force, or wit must end the warre.

This braue contention did the Poet sing;

Expressing so the spleene of either king;

That his large purple weede, [^DLPS200] Vlysses held

Before his face, and eies; since thence distilld

Teares vncontaind; which he obscur’d, in feare

To let th’obseruing Presence, note a teare.

But when his sacred song the meere Diuine

Had giuen an end; a Goblet crownd with wine

Vlysses (drying his wet eies) did seise;

And sacrifisde to those Gods that would please

T’inspire the Poet with a song so fit

To do him honour, [^DLPS201] and renowme his wit.

His teares then staid. But when againe began

(By all the kings desires) the mouing man;

Againe Vlysses, could not chuse but yeeld

To that soft passion: which againe, withheld,

He kept so cunningly from sight; that none

(Except Alcinous himselfe, alone)

Discern’d him mou’d so much. But he sat next;

And heard him deeply sigh. Which, his pretext

Could not keepe hid from him. Yet he conceal’d

His vtterance of it; and would haue it held

From all the rest. Brake off the song, and this

Said to those Ore-affecting Peeres of his:

Princes, and Peeres! we now are satiate

With sacred song, that fits a feast of state:

With wine, and food. Now then, to field, and try;

In all kinds our approu’d actiuity;

That this our Guest, may giue his friends to know

In his returne: that we, as little owe

To fights, and wrestlings, leaping, speede of race,

As these our Court-rites; and commend our grace

In all, to all superiour. Foorth he led

The Peeres and people, troup’t vp to their head:

Nor must Demodocus be left within;

Whose harpe, the Herald hung vpon the pinne;

His hand, in his tooke; and abroad he brought

The heauenly Poet: out, the same way wrought

That did the Princes: and what they would see

With admiration, with his companie

They wisht to honour. To the place of Game

These throng’d; and after, routs of other came,

Of all sort, infinite. Of Youths that stroue,

Many, [^DLPS202] and strong, rose to their trials loue.

Vp rose Acroneus, and Ocyalus;

Elatreus, Prymneus, and Anchyalus;

Nauteus, Eretmeus, Thoo • , Proreus;

Pontaeus, and the strong Amphialus,

Sonne to Tectonides, Polinius.

Vp rose to these, [^DLPS203] the great Euryalus;

In action like the homicide of warre.

Naubolides, that was for person farre

Past all the rest: [^DLPS204] but one he could not passe;

Nor any thought improue; Laodamas.

Vp Anabesinzus then arose;

And three sonnes of the Scepter state, and those;

Were Halius, and fore-praisde Laodamas;

And Clytonaeus, like a God in grace.

These first the foote-game tride; and from the lists

Took start together. Vp the dust, in mists

They hurld about; as in their speede, they flew;

But Clytonaeus, first, of all the crew

A Stiches length in any fallow field

Made good his pace; when where the Iudges yeeld

The prise, and praise, his glorious speed arriu’d.

Next, for the boistrous wrestling Game they striu’d;

At which, Euryalus, the rest outshone.

At leape, Amphialus. At the hollow stone

Elatreus exceld. At buffets, last,

Laodamas, the kings faire sonne surpast.

When all had striu’d in these assaies their fill;

Laodamas said; Come friends; let’s proue what skill

This Stranger hath attaind to, in our sport;

Me thinks, he must be of the actiue sort.

His calues, thighs, hands, and well-knit shoulders show,

That Nature disposition did bestow

To fit with fact their forme. Nor wants he prime.

But sowre Affliction, made a mate with Time,

Makes Time the more seene. Nor imagine I,

A worse thing to enforce debilitie,

Then is the Sea: though nature ne’re so strong

Knits one together. Nor conceiue you wrong,

(Replied Eu • yalus) but proue his blood

With • hat you question. In the midst then stood

Renowm’d Laodamas, and prou’d him thus;

Come (stranger Father) and assaie with vs

Your powrs in these contentions: [^DLPS205] If your show

Be answerd with your worth, tis fit that you

Should know these conflicts: nor doth glorie stand

On any worth more, in a mans command,

Then to be strenuous, both of foote and hand:

Come then, make proofe with vs; discharge your mind

Of discontentments: [^DLPS206] for not farre behind

Comes your deduction. Ship is ready now;

And men, and all things. Why (said he) dost thou

Mocke me Laodamas! and these strifes bind

My powrs to answer? I am more inclind

To cares, then conflict. Much sustaind I haue;

And still am suffering. I come here to craue

In your assemblies, meanes to be dismist,

And pray, both Kings, and subiects to assist.

Euryalus, an open brawle began;

And said: I take you Sir, [^DLPS207] for no such man

As fits these honord strifes. A number more

Strange men there are, that I would chuse before.

To one that loues to lie a ship-boord much;

Or is the Prince of sailours; or to such

As traffique farre and neare, and nothing minde

But freight, and passage, and a foreright winde;

Or to a victler of a ship: or men

That set vp all their powrs for rampant Gaine, [^DLPS208]

I can compare, or hold you like to be:

But, for a wrestler, or of qualitie

Fit for contentions noble; you abhor

From worth of any such competitor.

Vlysses (frowning) answerd; [^DLPS209] Stranger! farre

Thy words are from the fashions regular

Of kinde, or honour. Thou art in thy guise

Like to a man, that authors iniuries.

I see, [^DLPS210] the Gods to all men, giue not all

Manly addiction; wisedome; words that fall

(Like dice) vpon the square still. Some man takes

Ill forme from parents; but God often makes

That fault of forme vp, with obseru’d repaire

Of pleasing speech: that makes him held for faire;

That makes him speake securely: makes him shine

In an assembly, with a grace di • ine.

Men take delight, to see how euenly lie

His words asteepe, in honey modestie.

Another then, hath fashion like a God;

But in his language, he is foule, and broad:

And such art thou. A person faire is giuen;

But nothing else is in thee, sent from heauen.

For in thee lurkes, a base, and earthy soule

And t’hast compelld me, with a speech most foule

To be thus bitter. I am not vnseene

In these faire strifes, as thy words ouerweene:

But in the first ranke of the best I stand.

At least, I did, when youth and strength of hand

Made me thus confident: but now am worne

With woes, and labours; as a humane borne

To beare all anguish. Sufferd much I haue.

The warre of men, and the inhumane waue

Haue I driuen through at all parts: but with all

My waste in sufferance: what yet may fall

In my performance, at these strifes Ile trie;

Thy speech hath mou’d, and made my wrath runne hie.

This said; with robe, and all, he graspt a stone,

A little grauer then was euer throwne

By these Phaeacians, in their wrestling rout;

More firme, more massie; which (turnd round about)

He hurried from him, with a hand so strong

It sung, and flew: and ouer all the throng

(That at the others markes stood) quite it went:

Yet downe fell all beneath it; fearing spent

The force that draue it flying from his hand,

As it a dart were, or a walking wand.

And, farre past all the markes of all the rest

His wing stole way. When Pallas straight imprest

A marke at fall of it; resembling then

One of the nauy-giuen Phaeacian men;

And thus aduanc’t Vlysses: One, (though blinde)

(O stranger!) groping, may thy stones fall finde;

For not amidst the rout of markes it fell,

But farre before all. Of thy worth, thinke well;

And stand in all strifes: no Phaeacian here,

This bound, can either better or come nere.

Vlysses ioyd, to heare that one man yet

V • de him benignly; and would Truth abet

In those contentions. And then, thus smooth

He tooke his speech downe: Reach me that now Youth,

You shall (and straight I thinke) haue one such more;

And one beyond it too. And now, whose Core

Stands sound, and great within him (since ye haue

Thus put my splene vp) come againe and braue

The Guest ye tempted, with such grosse disgrace:

At wrestling, buffets, whirlbat, speed of race.

At all, or either, I except at none,

But vrge the whole State of you; onely one

I will not challenge, in my forced boast,

And that’s Laodamas; for hee’s mine Host. [^DLPS211]

And who will fight, or wrangle with his friend?

Vnwise he is, and base, that will contend

With him that feedes him, in a forreigne place;

And takes all edge off, from his owne sought grace.

None else except I here; nor none despise;

But wish to know, and proue his faculties,

That dares appeare now. No strife ye can name

Am I vnskilld in; [^DLPS212] (reckon any game

Of all that are, as many as there are

In vse with men) for Archerie I dare

Affirme my selfe not meane. Of all a troupe

Ile make the first foe with mine arrow stoupe;

Though, with me ne’re so many fellowes bend

Their bowes at markt men, and affect their end;

Onely was Philocte • es with his bow

Still my superiour; when we Greekes would show

Our Archerie against our foes of Troy:

But all that now by bread, fraile life enioy,

I farre hold my inferiours. Men of old

None now aliue, shall witnesse me so bold

To vant equality with such men as these;

O • chalian, Euritus, Hercules;

Who with their bowes, durst with the Gods contend.

And therefore caught Eurytus soone his end.

Nor did at home, [^DLPS213] in age, a reuerend man;

But by the Great incensed Delphian

Was shot to death, for daring competence

With him, in all an Archers excellence.

A Speare Ile hurle as farre, as any man

Shall shoote a shaft. How at a race I can

Bestirre my feete; I onely yeeld to Feare,

And doubt to meete with my superiour here.

So many seas, so too much haue misusde

My lims for race; and therefore haue diffusde

A dissolution through my loued knees.

This said, [^DLPS214] he stilld all talking properties;

Alcinous onely answerd: O my Guest

In good part take we, what you haue bene prest

With speech to answer. You would make appeare

Your vertues therefore, that will still shine where

Your onely looke is. Yet must this man giue

Your worth ill language; when, he does not liue

In sort of mortals (whence so ere he springs

That iudgement hath to speake becoming things)

That will depraue your vertues. Note then now

My speech, and what, my loue presents to you;

That you may tell Heroes, when you come

To banquet with your Wife, and Birth at home,

(Mindfull of our worth) what deseruings Ioue

Hath put on our parts likewise; in remoue

From Sire to Sonne, as an inherent grace

Kinde, and perpetuall. We must needs giue place

To other Countreymen; and freely yeeld

We are not blamelesse, in our fights of field;

Buff • ts, nor wrestlings: but in speede of feete;

And all the Equipage that fits a fleete,

We boast vs best. For table euer spred

With neighbour feasts, for garments varied;

For Poesie, Musique, Dancing, Baths, and Beds.

And now, Phaeacians, you that beare your heads

And feete with best grace, in enamouring dance;

Enflame our guest here; that he may aduance

Our worth past all the worlds, to his home friends;

As well for the vnmatcht grace, that commends

Your skills in footing of a dance; as theirs

That flie a race best. And so, all affaires,

At which we boast vs best; he best may trie;

As Sea-race, Land-race, Dance, and Poesie.

Some one, with instant speede to Court retire,

And fetch Demodocus, his soundfull lyre.

This said, the God-grac’t king, and quicke resort

Pontonous made, for that faire harpe, to Court.

Nine of the lot-chusde publique Rulers rose,

That all in those contentions did dispose;

Commanding a most smooth ground, and a wide,

And all the people, in faire game, aside.

Then with the rich harpe, came Pontonous;

And in the midst, tooke place Demodocus.

About him then stood foorth, the choise yong men, [^DLPS215]

That on mans first youth, made fresh entrie then:

Had Art to make their naturall motion sweete

And shooke a most diuine dance from their feete;

That twinckld Star-like; mou’d as swift, and fine,

And beate the aire so thinne, they made it shine.

Vlysses wonderd at it; but amazd

He stood in minde, [^DLPS216] to heare the dance so phras’d.

For, as they danc’t; Demodocus did sing,

The bright-crownd Venus loue, with Battailes king;

As first they closely mixt, in t’house of fire.

What worlds of gifts, wonne her to his desire;

Who then, the night-and-day-bed did defile

Of good king Vulcan. But in little while

The Sunne their mixture saw; and came, and told.

The bitter newes, did by his • ares take hold

Of Vulcans heart. Then to his Forge he went;

And in his shrewd mind, deepe stuffe did inuent.

His mightie Anuile, in the stocke he put;

And forg’d a net, that none could loose, or cut;

That when it had them, it might hold them fast.

Which, hauing finisht, he made vtmost haste

Vp to the deare roome, where his wife he wowd:

And (madly wrath with Mars) he all bestrowd

The bed, and bed posts: all the beame aboue

That crost the chamber; [^DLPS217] and a circle stroue,

Of his deuice, to wrap in all the roome.

And twas as pure, as of a Spiders Ioome,

The woofe before tis wouen. No man nor God

Could set his eie on it: a sleight so odde,

His Art shewd in it. All his craft bespent

About the bed: [^DLPS218]. he faind, as if he went

To well-built Lemnos; his most loued towne,

Of all townes earthly. Nor left this vnknowne

To golden-bridle-vsing Mars; who kept

No blinde watch ouer him: but, seeing stept

His riuall so aside, he hasted home

With faire-wreath’d Venus loue stung; who was come

New from the Court of her most mightie Sire.

Mars enterd; wrung her hand; and the retire

Her husband made to Lemnos told; and said;

Now (Loue) is Vulcan gone; let vs to bed,

Hee’s for the barbarous Sintians. Well appaid

Was Venus with it; and afresh assaid

Their old encounter. Downe they went; and straight

About them clingd, the artificiall sleight

Of most wise Vulcan; and were so ensnar’d,

That neither they could stirre their course prepar’d,

In any lim about them; nor arise.

And then they knew, they could no more disguise

Their close conueiance; but lay, forc’t, stone still.

Backe rusht the Both foote cook’t; but straight in skill,

From his neare skout-hole turnd; nor euer w • nt

To any Lemnos; but the sure euent

Left Phoebus to discouer, who told all.

Then, home hopt Vulcan, full of griefe, and gall;

Stood in the Portall, and cried out so hie;

That all the Gods heard. Father of the skie

And euery other deathlesse God (said he)

Come all, [^DLPS219] and a ridiculous obiect see;

And yet not sufferable neither; Come,

And witnesse, how when still I step from home,

(Lame that I am) Ioues daughter doth professe

To do me all the shamefull offices;

Indignities, despites, that can be thought;

And loues this all-things-making-come to nought

Since he is faire forsooth; foote-sound, and I

Tooke in my braine a little; leg’d awrie;

And no fault mine; but all my parents fault,

Who should not get, if mocke me, with my halt.

But see how fast they sleepe, while I, in mone,

Am onely made, an idle looker on.

One bed their turne serues; and it must be mine;

I thinke yet, I haue made their selfe-loues shine.

They shall no more wrong me, and none perceiue:

Nor will they sleepe together, I beleeue

With too hote haste againe. Thus both shall lie

In craft, and force; till the extremitie

Of all the dowre, I gaue her Sire (to gaine

A dogged set-fac’t Girle, that will not staine

Her face with blushing, though she shame her head)

He paies me backe: She’s faire, but was no maide.

While this long speech was making, all were come

To Vulcans wholie-brazen-founded home.

Earth-shaking Neptune; vsefull Mercurie,

And far-shot Phoebus. No She Deitie

For shame, would show there: all the giue-good Gods

stood in the Portall; and past periods

Gaue length to laughters; all reioyc’t to see

That which they said; that no impietie

Finds good successe at th’end. And now (said one)

The slow outgoes the swift. Lame Vulcan, knowne

To be the slowest of the Gods; outgoes

Mars the most swift; And this is that, which growes

To greatest iustice; that Adulteries sport

Obtain’d by craft, by craft of other sort,

(And lame craft too) is plagu’d, which grieues the more,

That sound lims turning lame; the lame, [^DLPS220] restore.

This speech amongst themselues they entertaind

When Phoebus, thus askt Hermes: Thus enchaind

Would’st thou be Hermes, to be thus disclosde?

Though, with thee, golden Venus were repos’de?

He soone gaue that an answer: O (said he

Thou king of Archers) would twere thus with me.

Though thrice so much shame; nay, though infinite

Were powrd about me; and that euery light

In great heauen shining, witnest all my harmes,

So golden Venus slumberd in mine Armes.

The Gods againe laught; euen the watry state

Wrung out a laughter: But propitiate

Was still for Mars, and praid the God of fire

He would dissolue him; offering the desire

He made to Ioue, to pay himselfe; and said,

All due debts, should be, by the Gods repaid.

Pay me, no words (said he) where deeds lend paine;

Wretched the words are, giuen for wretched men.

How shall I binde you in th’Immortals sight

If Mars be once loos’d; nor will pay his right?

Vulcan (said he) if Mars should flie, [^DLPS221] nor see

Thy right repaid, it should be paid by me:

Your word, so giuen, I must accept (said he)

Which said; he loosd them: Mars then rusht from skie

And stoop’t cold Thrace. The laughing Deity

For Cyprus was, and tooke her Paphian state

Where, She a Groue, ne’re cut, hath consecrate:

All with Arabian odors fum’d; and hath

An Altar there, at which the Graces bathe,

And with immortall Balms besmooth her skin;

Fit for the blisse, Immortals solace in;

Deckt her in to-be-studied attire,

And apt to set beholders hearts on fire.

This sung the sacred Muse, whose notes and words

The dancers feete kept; as his hands his cords.

Vlysses, much was pleased, and all the crew:

This would the king haue varied with a new

And pleasing measure; and performed by

Two, with whom none would striue in dancerie.

And those, his sonnes were; that must therefore dance

Alone; and onely to the harp aduance,

Without the words; And this sweete couple, was

Yong Halius, and diuine Laodamas:

Who danc’t a Ball dance. Then the rich-wrought Ball,

(That Polybus had made, of purple all)

They tooke to hand: one threw it to the skie,

And then danc’t backe; the other (capring hie)

Would surely catch it, ere his foote toucht ground;

And vp againe aduanc’t it; and so found

The other, cause of dance; and then did he

Dance lofty trickes; till next it came to be

His turne to catch; and serue the other still.

When they had kept it vp to eithers will;

They then danc’t ground tricks; oft mixt hand in hand;

And did so gracefully their change command;

That all the other Youth that stood at pause,

With deafning shouts, gaue them the great applause.

Then said Vlysses; O past all men here

Cleare, [^DLPS222] not in powre, but in desert as clere,

You said your dancers, did the world surpasse;

And they performe it, cleare, and to amaze.

This wonne Alcinous heart; and equall prise

He gaue Vlysses; saying; Matchlesse wise

(Princes, and Rulers) I perceiue our guest;

And therefore let our hospitable best

In fitting gifts be giuen him: twelue chiefe kings

There are that order all the glorious things

Of this our kingdome; and the thirteenth, I

Exist, as Crowne to all: let instantly

Be thirteene garments giuen him: and, of gold

Precious, and fine, a Talent. While we hold

This our assembly; be all fetcht, and giuen;

That to our feast prepar’d, as to his heauen

One guest may enter. And that nothing be

Left vnperformd, that fits his dignity;

Euryalus shall here conciliate

Himselfe, with words and gifts; since past our rate

He gaue bad language. This did all commend

And giue in charge; and euery king did send

His Herald for his gift. Euryalus▪

(Answering for his part) said; Alcinous!

Our chiefe of all; since you command, I will

To this our guest, by all meanes reconcile;

And giue him this entirely mettald sword:

The handle massie siluer; and the bord

That giues it couer, all of Ivorie,

New, and in all kinds, worth his qualitie.

This put he strait into his hand, and said:

Frolick • , O Guest and Father; if words, fled,

Haue bene offensiue; let swift whirlwinds take,

And rauish them from thought. May all Gods make

Thy wifes sight good to thee; in quicke retreate

To all thy f • iends, and best-lou’d breeding seate;

Their long misse quitting with the greater ioy;

In whose sweet, vanish all thy worst annoy.

And frolicke thou, to all height, Friend (said he)

Which heauen confirme, with wisht felicitie.

Nor euer giue againe desire to thee,

Of this swords vse, which with affects so free,

In my reclaime, thou hast bestowd on me.

This said; athwart his shoulders he put on

The right faire sword; and then did set the Sunne.

When all the gifts were brought; which backe againe

(With King Alcinous, in all the traine)

Were by the honourd Heralds borne to Court;

Which his faire sonnes tooke; and from the resort

Laid by their reuerend Mother. Each his throne

Of all the Peeres (which yet were ouershone

In King Alcinous command) ascended:

Whom he, to passe as much in gifts contended;

And to his Queene, said: Wife! see brought me here

The fairest Cabinet I haue; and there

Impose a well-cleansd, in, and vtter weed;

A Caldron heate with water, that with speed

Our Guest well bath’d, and all his gifts made sure,

It may a ioyfull appetite procure

To his succeeding Feast; and make him heare

The Poets Hymne, with the securer eare.

To all which, I will adde my boll of gold,

In all frame curious, to make him hold

My memory alwaies deare; and sacrifise

With it at home, to all the Deities.

Then Arete, her maids charg’d to set on

A well-siz’d Caldron quickly. Which was done;

Cleare water powr’d in, flame made so entire,

It gilt the brasse, and made the water fire.

In meane space, from her chamber brought the Queene

A wealthy Cabinet, where (pure and cleane)

She put the garments, and the gold bestowd

By that free State: and then, the other vowd

By her Alcinous, and said: Now Guest▪

Make close and fast your gifts, lest when you rest

A ship-boord sweetly, in your way you meet

Some losse, that lesse may make your next sleepe sweet.

This when Vlysses heard; all sure he made;

Enclosde and bound safe; for the sauing trade,

The Reuerend for her wisedome (Circe) had

In foreyeares taught him. Then the handmaid bad

His worth to bathing; which reioyc’t his heart.

For since he did with his Calypso part,

He had no • ote baths. None had fauourd him;

Nor bin so tender of his kingly lim.

But all the time he spent in her abode,

He liu’d respected, as he were a God.

Cleansd then and balmd; faire shirt, and robe put on;

Fresh come from bath, and to the Feasters gone;

Nausicaa, that from the Gods hands tooke

The soueraigne beautie of her blessed looke,

Stood by a well-caru’d Columne of the roome,

And through her eye, her heart was ouercome

With admiration of the Port imprest

In his aspect; [^DLPS223] and said: God saue you Guest!

Be chearfull, as in all the future state,

Your home will shew you, in your better Fate.

But yet, euen then, let this rememberd be,

Your lifes price, I lent, and you owe it me.

The varied in all counsels gaue reply:

Nausicaa! flowre of all this Empery!

So Iunos husband, that the strife for noise

Makes in the clouds, blesse me with strife of Ioyes,

In the desir’d day, that my house shall show,

As I, as I to a Goddesse, there shall vow,

To thy faire hand, that did my Being giue;

Which Ile acknowledge • uery houre I liue.

This said; Alcinous plac’t him by his side;

Then tooke they feast, and did in parts diuide

The seuerall dishes; filld out wine, and then

The striu’d-for, [^DLPS224] for his worth, of worthy men,

And reuerenc’t of the State; Demodocus

Was brought in by the good Pontonous.

In midst of all the guests, they gaue him place,

Against a loftie Pillar; when, this grace

The grac’t with wisedome did him. From the Chine

That stood before him of a white-tooth’d Swine,

(Being farre the daintiest ioynt) mixt through with fat,

He caru’d to him, and sent it where he sat,

By his old friend, the Herald; willing thus:

Herald! reach this to graue Demodocus;

Say, I salute him; and his worth embrace.

Poets deserue past all the humane race,

Reuerend respect and honor; since the Queene

Of knowledge, and the supreme worth in men

(The Muse) informes them; and loues all their race.

This, reacht the Herald to him; who, the grace

Receiu’d encourag’d: which, when feast was spent,

Vlysses amplified to this ascent:

Demodocus! I must preferre you farre,

Past all your sort; if, or the Muse of warre,

Ioues daughter prompts you; (that the Greeks respects)

Or if the Sunne, that those of Troy affects.

For I haue heard you, since my coming, sing

The Fate of Greece, to an admired string.

How much ou • sufferance was; how much we wrought;

How much the actions rose to, when we fought.

So liuely forming, as you had bin there;

Or to some free relator, lent your • are.

Forth then, and sing the woodden horses frame,

Built by Epeus; by the martiall Dame,

Taught the whole Fabricke; which, by force of sleight,

Vlysses brought into the Cities height;

When he had stuft it with as many men,

As leueld loftie Ilion with the Plaine.

With all which, if you can as well enchant,

A • with expression quicke and elegant,

You sung the rest; I will pronounce you cleare,

Inspir’d by God, past all that euer were.

This said; euen stird by God vp, he began;

And to his Song fell, past the forme of man;

Beginning where, the Greeks a ship-boord went,

And euery Chiefe, had set on fire his Tent.

When th’other Kings, in great Vlysses guide,

In Troys vast market place, the horse did hide:

From whence, the Troians, vp to Ilion drew

The dreadfull Engine. Where (sate all arew)

Their Kings about it: many counsels giuen,

How to dispose it. In three waies were driuen

Their whole distractions: first, if they should feele

The hollow woods heart, (searcht with piercing steele)

Or from the battlements (drawne higher yet)

Deiect it headlong; or, that counterfet,

So vast and nouell, set on sacred fire;

Vowd to appease each angerd Godheads ire.

On which opinion, they, thereafter, saw,

They then should haue resolu’d: th’vnalterd law

Of Fate presaging; that Troy then should end,

When th’hostile horse, she should receiue to friend;

For therein should the Grecian Kings lie hid,

To bring the Fate and death, they after did.

He sung besides, the Greeks eruption

From those their hollow crafts; and horse forgone;

And how they made Depopulation tred

Beneath her feete, so high a Cities head.

In which affaire, he sung in other place,

That of that ambush, some man else did race

The Ilion Towres, then [^DLPS225] Laertiades;

But here he [^DLPS226] sung, that he alone did seise

(With Menelaus) the ascended roofe

Of Prince Deiphobus; and Mars- like proofe

Made of his valour: a most dreadfull fight,

Daring against him. And there vanquisht quite,

In litle time (by great Mineruas aid)

All Ilions remnant, and Troy leuell laid.

This the diuine Expressor, did so giue

Both act and passion, that he made it liue;

And to Vlysses facts did breathe a fire,

So [^DLPS227] deadly quickning, that it did inspire

Old death with life; and renderd life so sweet,

And passionate, that all there felt it fleet;

Which made him pitie his owne crueltie,

And put into that ruth, so pure an • ie

Of humane frailtie; that to see a man

Could so reuiue from Death; yet no way can

Defend from death; his owne quicke powres it made

Feele there deaths horrors: and he felt life fade

In [^DLPS228] teares, his feeling braine swet: for in things

That moue past vtte • ance, teares ope all their springs.

Nor are there in the Powres, that all life beares,

More true interpreters of all, then teares.

And as a Ladie mournes her sole-lou’d Lord, [^DLPS229]

That falne before his Citie, by the sword,

Fighting to rescue from a cruell Fate,

His towne and children; and, in dead estate

Yet panting, seeing him; wraps him in her armes,

Weeps, shriekes, and powres her health into his armes;

Lies on him, striuing to become his shield

From foes that still as • aile him; speares impeld

Through backe and shoulders; by whose points embrude,

They raise and leade him into seruitude,

Labor and languor: for all which, the Dame

Eates downe her cheekes with teares, and feeds lifes flame

With miserable sufferanc: So this King,

Of teare-swet anguish, op’t a boundlesse spring:

Nor yet was seene to any one man there,

But King Alcinous, who sate so neare,

He could not scape him: sighs (so chok’t) so brake

From all his tempers, which the King d • d take

Both note, and graue resp • ct of, and thus spake:

Heare me, Phaeacian Counsellers and Peeres;

And ceasse, Demodocus; perhaps all eares

Are not delighted with his song; for, euer

Since the diuine Muse sung, our Guest hath neuer

Containd from secret mournings. It may fall,

That something sung, he hath bin grieu’d withall,

As touching his particular. Forbeare;

That Feast may ioyntly comfort all hearts here;

And we may cheare our Guest vp; tis our best,

In all due honor. For our reuerend Guest,

Is all our celebration, gifts, and all,

His loue hath added to our Festiuall.

A Guest, and suppliant too; we should esteeme

Deare as our brother; one that doth but dreame

He hath a soule; or touch but at a mind

Deathlesse and manly; should stand so enclin’d.

Nor cloke you, longer, with your curious wit,

(Lou’d Guest) what euer we shall aske of it.

It now stands on your honest state to tell;

And therefore giue your name; nor more conceale,

What of your parents, and the Towne that beares

Name of your natiue; or of forreiners

That neare vs border, you are calld in fame.

There’s no man liuing, walkes without a name;

Noble nor base; but had one from his birth;

Imposde as fit, as to be borne. What earth,

People, and citie, owne you? Giue to know:

Tell but our ships all, that your way must show;

For our [^DLPS230] ships know th’expressed minds of men;

And will so most intentiuely retaine

Their scopes appointed, that they neuer err • ;

And yet vse neuer any man to stere:

Nor any Rudders haue, as others need.

They know mens thoughts; and whither tends their speed.

And there will set them. For you cannot name

A Citie to them; nor fat Soile, that Fame

Hath any notice giuen; but well they know,

And will flie to them, though they ebbe and flow,

In blackest clouds and nights; and neuer beare

Of any wracke or rocke, the slendrest feare.

But this I heard my Sire Nausithous say

Long since, that Neptune seeing vs conuay

So safely passengers of all degrees,

Was angry with vs; and vpon our seas,

A well-built ship we had (neare habor come,

From safe deduction of some stranger home)

Made in his flitting billowes, sticke stone still;

And dimm’d our Citie, like a mightie hill,

With shade cast round about it. This report,

The old [^DLPS231] King made; in which miraculous sort,

If God had done such things, or left vndone;

At his good pleasure be it. But now, on,

And truth relate vs; both whence you errd;

And to what Clime of men would be transferrd;

With all their faire Townes; be they, as they are;

If rude, vniust, and all irregular;

Or hospitable, bearing minds that please

The mightie D • itie. Which one of these

You would be set at, say; and you are there;

And therefore what afflicts you? why, to heare

The Fate of Greece and Ilion, mourne you so?

The Gods haue done it; as to all, they do

Destine destruction; that from thence may rise

A Poeme to instruct posterities.

Fell any kinsman before Ilion?

Some worthy Sire-in-law, or like-neare sonne?

Whom next our owne blood, and selfe-race we loue?

Or any friend perhaps, in whom did moue

A knowing soule, and no vnpleasing thing?

Since such a good one, is no vnderling

To any brother: for, what fits true friends,

True wisedom • is, [^DLPS232] that blood and birth transcends.

•

VLysses here, is first made knowne;

Who tels the sterne contention,

His powres did gainst the Cicons trie;

And thence to the Lotophagie

Extends his conquest: and from them,

Assayes the Cyclop Polypheme;

And by the crafts, his wits apply,

He puts him out his onely eye.

V Lysses thus resolu’d the Kings demands.

Alcinous! (in whom this Empire stands)

You should not of so naturall right disherit

Your princely feast, as take from it the spirit.

To heare a Poet, that in accent brings

The Gods brests downe; [^DLPS233] and breathes them as he [illegible]

Is sweet, and sacred; nor can I conceiue,

In any common weale, what more doth giue

Note of the iust and blessed Empery,

Then to see Comfort vniuersally

Cheare vp the people. When in euery roofe,

She giues obseruers a most humane proofe

Of mens contents. To see a neighbours Feast

Adorne it through; and thereat, heare the breast

Of the diuine Muse; men in order set;

A [^DLPS234] wine-page waiting. Tables crownd with meate;

Set close to guests, that are to vse it skilld;

The Cup-boords furnisht; and the cups still filld.

This shewes (to my mind) most humanely faire.

Nor should you, for me, still the heauenly aire,

That stirrd my soule so; for I loue such teares,

As fall from fit notes; beaten through mine eares,

With repetitions of what heauen hath done;

And breake from heartie apprehension

Of God and goodnesse, though they shew my ill.

And therefore doth my mind excite me still,

To tell my bleeding mone; but much more now,

To serue your pleasure; that, to ouer-flow

My teares with such cause, may by sighs be driuen;

Though ne’re so much plagu’d, I may seeme by heauen.

And now my name; which, way shall leade to all

My miseries after: that their sounds may fall

Through your eares also; and shew (hauing fled

So much affliction) first, who rests his head

In your embraces; when (so farre from home)

I knew not where t’obtaine it resting roome.

I am Vlysses Laertiades;

The feare of all the world for policies;

For which, my facts as high as heauen resound.

I dwell in Ithaca, Earths most renownd:

All ouer-shadow’d with the [^DLPS235] Shake-leafe hill

Tree-fam’d Neritus; whose neare confines fill

Ilands a number, well inhabited,

That vnder my obseruance taste their bread.

Dulichius, Samos, and the-full-of- [^DLPS236] food

Zacynthus, likewise grac’t with store of wood.

But Ithaca, (though in the seas it lie)

Yet lies she so aloft, she casts her eye

Quite ouer all the neighbour Continent.

Farre▪ Norward situate; and (being lent

But litle fauour of the Morne, and Sunne)

With barren rocks and cliffes is ouer-runne.

And yet of hardie youths, a Nurse of Name.

[illegible] could I see a Soile, where ere I came,

More sweete and wishfull. Yet, from hence was I

Withheld with horror, by the Deitie

Diuine Calypso, in her cauie house;

Enflam’d to make me her sole Lord and Spouse.

Circe Aeaea too, (that knowing Dame,

Whose veines, the like affections did inflame)

Detaind me likewise. But to neithers loue,

Could I be tempted; which doth well approue;

Nothing so sweete is as our countries earth, [^DLPS237]

And ioy of those, from whom we claime our birth.

Though roofes farre richer, we farre off possesse,

Yet (from our natiue) all our more, is lesse.

To which, as I contended, I will tell

The much-distrest-conferring-facts, that fell

By Io • es diuine preuention; since I set,

From ruin’d Troy, my first foote in retreat.

From Ilion, ill winds cast me on the Coast

The Cicons hold; where I emploid mine hoast

For Ismarus, a Citie, built iust by

My place of landing; of which, Victory

Made me expugner. I depeopl’d it,

Slue all the men, and did their wiues remit,

With much spoile taken; which we did diuide,

That none might need his part. I then applide

All sp • ed for flight: but my command therein,

(Fooles that they were) could no obseruance win

Of many souldiers, who with spoile fed hie,

Would yet fill higher; and excessiuely

Fell to their wine; gaue slaughter on the shore,

Clouen-footed beeues and sheepe, in mightie store.

In meane space, Cicons did to Cicons crie;

When, of their nearest dwellers, instantly

Many and better souldiers made strong head,

That held the Continent, and managed

Their horse with high skill: on which they would fight,

When fittest cause seru’d; and againe alight,

(With soone seene vantage) and on foote contend.

Their concourse swift was, and had neuer end;

As thicke and sodaine twas, as flowres and leaues

Darke Spring discouers, when she [^DLPS238] Light receaues.

And then began the bitter Fate of Ioue

To alter vs vnhappie; which, euen stroue

To giue vs suffrance. At our Fleet we made

Enforced stand; and there did they inuade

Our thrust-vp Forces: darts encountred darts,

With blowes on both sides: either making parts

Good vpon either, while the Morning shone,

And sacred Day her bright increase held on;

Though much out-matcht in number. But as soone

As Phoebus Westward fell, the Cicons wonne

Much hand of vs; sixe proued souldiers fell

(Of euery ship) the rest they did compell

To seeke of Flight escape from Death and Fate.

Thence (sad in heart) we saild: and yet our State

Was something chear’d; that (being ouer-matcht so much

In violent number) our retreate was such,

As sau’d so many▪ Our deare losse the lesse,

That they suruiu’d; so like for like successe.

Yet left we not the Coast, before we calld

Home to our country earth, the soules exhald,

Of all the friends, the Cicons ouercame.

Thrice calld we on them, [^DLPS239] by their seuerall name,

And then tooke leaue. Then from the angry North,

Cloud-gathering Ioue, a dreadfull storme calld forth

Against our Nauie; couerd shore and all,

With gloomie vapors. Night did headlong fall

From frowning Heauen. And then hurld here and there

Was all our Nauie; the rude winds did teare,

In three, in foure parts, all their sailes; and downe

Driuen vnder hatches were we, prest to drowne.

Vp rusht we yet againe; and with tough hand

(Two daies, two nights entoild) we gat nere land;

Labours and sorrowes, eating vp our minds.

The third cleare day yet, to more friendly winds

We masts aduanc’t, we white sails spred, and sate.

Forewinds, and guides, againe did iterate,

Our ease and home-hopes; which we cleare had reacht;

Had not, by chance, a sodaine North-wind fetcht,

With an extreame sea, quite about againe,

Our whole endeuours; and our course constraine

To giddie round; and with our bowd sailes greete

Dreadfull Maleia; calling backe our fleet • ,

As farre forth as Cythaera. Nine dayes more,

Aduerse winds tost me; and the tenth, the shore,

Where dwell the blossome-fed Lotophagie,

I fetcht▪ fresh water tooke in; instantly

Fell to our food aship-boord; and then sent

Two of my choice men to the Continent,

(Adding a third, a Herald) to discouer,

What sort of people were the Rulers ouer

The land next to vs. Where, [^DLPS240] the first they met,

Were the Lotophagie▪ that made them eate

Their Country diet; and no ill intent,

Hid in their hearts to them: and yet th’euent,

To ill conuerted it; for, hauing eate

Their daintie viands; they did quite forget

(As all men else, that did but taste their feast)

Both country-men and country; nor addrest

Any returne, t’informe what sort of men

Made fixt abode there; but would needs maintaine,

Abode themselues there; and eate that food euer.

I made out after; and was faine to seuer

Th’enchanted knot; by forcing their retreate;

That striu’d, and wept, and would not leaue their meate

For heauen it selfe. But, dragging them to fleete;

I wrapt in sure bands, both their hands and feete,

And cast them vnder hatches; and away

Commanded all the rest, without least stay;

Lest they should taste the Lote too; and forget

With such strange raptures, their despisde retreate.

All then aboord, we beate the sea with Ores;

And still with sad hearts saild by out-way shores;

Till th’out-lawd Cyclops land we fetcht; a race

Of proud-liu’d loiterers, [^DLPS241] that neuer sow,

Nor put a plant in earth, nor vse a Plow;

But trust in God for all things; and their earth,

(Vnsowne, vnplowd) giues euery of-spring birth,

That other lands haue. Wheate, and Ba • ley; Vines

That beare in goodly Grapes, delicious wines;

And Ioue sends showres for all: no counsels there,

Nor counsellers, nor lawes; but all men beare

Their heads aloft on mountaines, and those steepe,

And on their tops too: and there, houses keepe

In vaultie Caues; their housholds gouernd all

By each mans law, imposde in seuerall;

Nor wife, nor child awd; but as he thinks good.

None for another caring. But there stood

Another litle Ile, well stor’d with wood,

Betwixt this and the entry; neither nie

The Cyclops Ile, nor yet farre off doth lie.

Mens want it sufferd; but the mens supplies,

The Goates made with their inarticulate cries.

Goates beyond number, this small Iland breeds,

So • ame, that no accesse disturbs their feeds.

No hunters (that the tops of mountaines scale,

And rub through woods with toile) seeke them at all.

Nor is the soile with flocks fed downe, nor plowd;

Nor euer in it any seed was sowd.

Nor place the neighbour Cyclops their delights,

In braue Vermilion prow-deckt ships; nor wrights

Vsefull and skilfull, in such works, as need

Perfection to those trafficks, that exceed

Their naturall confines: to flie out and see

Cities of men; and take in, mutually

The prease of others; To themselues they liue,

And to their Iland, that enough would giue

A good inhabitant; and time of yeare

Obserue to all things Art could order there.

There, close vpon the sea, sweet medowes spring,

That yet of fresh streames want no watering

To their soft burthens: but of speciall yeeld,

Your vines would be there; and your common field,

But gentle worke make for your plow; yet beare

A loftie haruest when you came to sheare.

For passing fat the • oile is▪ In it lies

A harbor so opportune, that no ties,

Halsers, or gables need; nor anchors cast.

Whom stormes [^DLPS242] put in there, are with stay embrac’t;

Or to their full wils safe; or winds aspire

To Pilots vses their more quicke desire.

At entry of the hauen, a siluer foord

Is from a rock-impressing fountaine powr’d,

All set with sable Poplars; and this Port

Were we arriu’d at, by the sweet resort

Of some God guiding vs: for twas a night

So gastly darke, all Port was past our sight,

Clouds • id our ships, and would not let the Moone

Affoord a beame to vs; the whole Ile wonne,

By not an eye of ours. None thought the Blore

That then was vp, shou’d waues against the shore,

That then to an vnmeasur’d height put on.

We still at sea esteemd vs, till alone

Our fleet put in it selfe. And then were strooke

Our gatherd sailes: our rest ashore we tooke,

And day expected. When the Morne gaue fire,

We rose, and walkt, and did the Ile admire.

The Nymphs, Ioues daughters, putting vp a heard

Of mountaine Goates to vs, to render cheard

My fellow souldiers. To our Fleet we flew;

Our crooked bowes tooke, long-pil’d darts, and drew

Our selues in three parts out; when, by the grace

That God vouch-saft, we made a gainfull chace.

Twelue ships we had, and euery ship had nine

Fat Goates allotted; ten onely mine.

Thus all that day, euen till the Sunne was set,

We sate and feasted; pleasant wine and meate,

Plenteously taking; for we had not spent

Our ruddie wine aship-boord: supplement

Of large sort, each man to his vessell drew,

When we the sacred Citie ouerthrew,

That held the Cicons. Now then saw we neare,

The Cyclops late-praisd Iland; and might heare

The murmure of their sheepe and goates; and see

Their smokes ascend. The Sunne then set, and we

(When Night succeeded) tooke our rest ashore.

And when the world the Mornings fauour wore,

I calld my friends to councell; charging them

To make stay there, while I tooke ship and streame,

With some associates; and explor’d what men

The neighbour Ile held: if of rude disdaine,

Churlish and tyrannous, or minds bewraid

Pious and hospitable. Thus much said,

I boorded, and commanded to ascend

My friends and souldiers, to put off, and lend

Way to our ship. They boorded, sate, and beate

The old sea forth, till we might see the seate,

The greatest Cyclop held for his abode;

Which was a deepe Caue, neare the common rode

Of ships that toucht there; thicke with Lawrels spred,

Where many sheepe and goates lay shadowed:

And neare to this, a Hall of torne-vp stone,

High built with Pines, that heauen and earth attone;

And loftie-fronted Okes: in which kept house,

A man in shape, immane, and monsterous,

Fed all his flocks alone; nor would affoord

Commerce with men; but had a wit abhord;

His mind, his body answering. Nor was he

Like any man, that food could possibly

Enhance so hugely; but (beheld alone)

Shewd like a steepe hils top, all ouergrowne

With trees and brambles; litle thought had I

Of such vast obiects. When, arriu’d so nie;

Some of my lou’d friends, I made stay aboord,

To guard my ship; and twelue▪ with me I shor’d,

The choice of all. I tooke besides along,

A Goat-skin flagon of wine, blacke and strong,

That Maro did present; Euantheus sonne,

And Priest to Phoebus; who had mansion

In Thracian Ismarus (the Towne I tooke)

He gaue it me; since I (with reuerence strooke,

Of his graue place, his wife and childrens good)

Freed all of violence. Amidst a wood

Sacred to Phoebus, stood his house; from whence

He fetcht me gifts of varied excellence;

Seuen talents of fine gold; a boll all fram’d

Of massie siluer. But his gift, most fam’d,

Was twelue great vessels, filld with such rich wine,

As was incorruptible, and diuine.

He kept it as his iewell, which none knew

But he himselfe, • is wife, and he that drew.

It was so strong, that neuer any filld

A cup, where that was but by drops instilld,

And drunke it off; but twas before allaid

With twentie parts in water; yet so swaid

The spirit of that litle, that the whole,

A sacred odour breath’d about the boll.

Had you the odour smelt, [^DLPS243] and sent it cast,

It would haue vext you to forbeare the taste.

But then (the taste gaind too) the spirit it wrought,

To dare things high, set vp an end my thought.

Of this, a huge great flagon full I bore,

And in a good large knapsacke, victles store;

And longd to see this heape of fortitude,

That so illiterate was, and vpland rude,

That lawes diuine nor humane he had learnd.

With speed we reacht the Cauerne, nor discernd

His presence there. His flocks he fed at field.

Entring his den; each thing beheld, did yeeld

Our admiration: shelues with cheeses heapt;

Sheds stuft with Lambs and Goates, distinctly kept;

Distinct the biggest; the more meane distinct;

Distinct the yongest. And in their precinct

(Proper and placefull) stood the troughs and pailes,

In which he milkt; and what was giuen a • meales,

Set vp a creaming: in the Euening still,

All scouring bright, as deaw vpon the hill.

Then were my fellowes instant to conuay

Kids, cheeses, lambs, aship • boord; and away

Saile the salt billow. I thought best, not so,

But better otherwise; and first would know,

What guest-gifts he would spare me. Little knew

My friends, on whom they would haue preyd: his view

Prou’d after, that his inwards were too rough

For such bold vsage: we were bold enough,

In what I sufferd; which was there to stay;

Make fire and feed there, though beare none away.

There sate we, till we saw him feeding come,

And on his necke a burthen lugging home,

Most highly huge of Sere-wood; which the pile

That fed his fire, supplide all supper while.

Downe by his den he threw it; and vp rose

A tumult with the fall. Afraid, we close

Withdrew our selues, while he into a Caue

Of huge receit, his high-fed cattell draue,

All that he milkt; the males he left without

His loftie roofes, that all bestrowd about

With Rams and buck-goates were. And then a rocke

He lift aloft, that damd vp to his flocke,

The doore they enterd: twas so hard to wield,

That two and twentie Waggons, all foure-wheeld,

(Could they be loaded, and haue teames that were

Proportion’d to them) could not stirre it there.

Thus, making sure, he kneeld and milkt his Ewes,

And braying Goates, with all a milkers dues.

Then let in all their yong: then, quicke did dresse,

His halfe milke vp for cheese, and in a presse

Of wicker prest it; put in bolls the rest,

To drinke, and eate, and serue his supping feast.

All works dispatcht thus; he began his fire;

Which blowne, he saw vs; and did thus enquire:

Ho! Guests! what are ye? whence saile ye these seas?

Trafficke, or roue ye? and like theeues oppresse

Poore strange aduenturers; exposing so

Your soules to danger, and your liues to wo?

This vtt • rd he; when Feare from our hearts tooke

The very life; to be so thunder-strooke

With such a voice, and such a monster see.

But thus I answerd: Er • ing Grecians we,

From Troy were turning homewards; [^DLPS244] but by force

Of aduerse winds, in far-diuerted course,

Such vnknowne waies tooke, and on rude seas tost,

(As Ioue decreed) are cast vpon this Coast.

Of Agamemnon (famous Atreus sonne)

We boast our selues the souldiers; who hath wonne

Renowme that reacheth heauen; to ouerthrow

So great a Citie, and to ruine so,

So many nations. Yet at thy knees lie

Our prostrate bosomes; forc’t with praires to trie,

If any hospitable right, or Boone

Of other nature, (such as haue bin wonne

By lawes of other houses) thou wilt giue.

Reuerence the Gods, thou greatst of all that liue.

We suppliants are; and hospitable Ioue

Poures wreake on all, whom praires want powre to moue:

And with their plagues, together will prouide,

That humble Guests shall haue their wants supplide.

He cruelly answerd: O thou foole (said he)

To come so farre, and to importune me

With any Gods feare, or obserued loue;

We Cyclops care not for your Goat-fed Ioue;

Nor other Blest ones; we are better farre.

To Ioue himselfe, dare I bid open warre;

To thee, and all thy fellowes, if I please.

But tell me: where’s the ship, that by the seas

Hath brought thee hither? If farre off, or neare;

Informe me quickly. These his temptings were.

But I, too much knew, not to know his mind;

And craft, with craft paid; telling him the wind

(Thrust vp from Sea, by him that shakes the Shore)

Had dasht our ships against his rocks, and tore

Her ribs in peeces, close vpon his Coast;

And we from high wracke sau’d; the rest were lost.

He answerd nothing; but rusht in, and tooke

Two of my fellowes vp from earth, and strooke

Their braines against it. Like two whelps they flew

About his shoulders; and did all embrew

The blushing earth. No mountaine Lion tore

Two Lambs so sternly; lept vp all their gore,

Gusht from their torne-vp bodies; lim by lim,

(Trembling with life yet) rauisht into him.

Both flesh and marrow-stuffed bones he eate,

And euen th’vncleansed entrails made his meate.

We weeping, cast our hands to heauen, to view,

A sight so horrid. Desperation flew

With all our after liues, to instant death,

In our beleeu’d destruction. But when breath,

The fury of his appetite had got,

Because the gulfe his belly, reacht his throte;

Mans flesh, and Goates milke, laying laire on laire,

Till neare chokt vp, was all the passe for aire.

Along his den, amongst his cattell, downe

He rusht, and streakt him. When my mind was growne

Desperate, to step in; draw my sword, and part

His bosome, where the strings about the heart

Circle the Liuer, and adde strength of hand.

But that rash thought, More staid, did countermand;

For there we all had perisht, since it past

Our powres to lift aside a log so vast,

As barrd all outscape; and so sigh’d away

The thought all Night, expecting actiue Day.

Which come, he first of all, his fire enflames,

Then milks his Goates and Ewes; then to their dams

Lets in their yong; and wondrous orderly,

With manly haste, dispatcht his houswifery.

Then to his Breakfast, to which, other two

Of my poore friends went: which eate; out then go

His heards and fat flocks; lightly putting by

The churlish barre, and closde it instantly;

For both those works, with ease, as much he did,

As you would ope and shut your Quiuer lid.

With stormes of whistlings then, his flocks he draue

Vp to the mountaines; and occasion gaue

For me to vse my wits; which to their height,

I striu’d to skrew vp; that a vengeance might

By some meanes fall from thence; and Pallas now

Affoord a full eare to my neediest vow.

This then, my thoughts preferd: a huge club lay

Close by his milk-house, which was now in way

To drie, and season; being an Oliue tree

Which late he feld; and being greene, must be

Made lighter for his manage. Twas so vast,

That we resembl’d it to some fit Mast,

To serue a ship of burthen, that was driuen

With twentie Ores; and had a bignesse giuen,

To beare a huge sea. Full so thicke, so tall

We iudg’d this club; which I, in part, hewd small,

And cut a fathome off. The peece I gaue

Amongst my souldiers, to take downe, and shaue;

Which done, I sharpn’d it at top, and then

(Hardn’d in fire) I hid it in the den,

Within a nastie dunghill reeking there,

Thicke, and so moist, it issude euery where.

Then made I lots cast, by my friends to trie,

Whose fortune seru’d to dare the bor’d out eie

Of that man-eater: and the lot did fall

On foure I wisht to make my aid, of all;

And I, the fift made, chosen like the rest.

Then came the Euen; and he came from the feast

Of his fat cattell; draue in all; nor kept

One male abroad: if, or his memory slept

By Gods direct will; or of purpose was

His driuing in of all then, doth surpasse

My comprehension. But he closde againe

The mightie barre; milkt, and did still maintaine

All other obseruation, as before.

His wo • ke, all done; two of my souldiers more,

At once he snatcht vp; and to supper went.

Then dar’d I words to him, and did present

A boll of wine, with these words: Cyclop! take

A boll of wine from my hand, that may make

Way for the mans flesh thou hast eate; and show

What drinke our ship held; which in sacred vow,

I offer to thee; to take ruth on me

In my dismission home. Thy rages be

Now no more sufferable. How shall men

(Mad and inhumane that thou art) againe

Greet thy abode, and get thy actions grace,

If thus thou ragest, and eatst vp their race.

He tooke, and drunke; and vehemently ioyd

To taste the sweet cup; and againe employd

My flagons powre; entreating more, and said:

Good Guest, againe affoord my taste thy aid;

And let me know thy name; and quickly now;

That in thy recompence I may bestow

A hospitable gift on thy desert;

And such a one as shall reioyce thy heart;

For to the Cylops too, the gentle Earth

Beares generous wine; and Ioue augments her birth,

In store of such, with showres. But this rich wine,

Fell from the riuer that is meere diuine,

Of Nectar and Ambrosia. This againe

I gaue him; and againe; nor could the foole abstaine,

But drunke as often. When the noble Iuyce

Had wrought vpon his spirit; I then gaue vse

To fairer language; saying: Cylop! now

As thou demandst, Ile tell thee my name; do thou

Make good thy hospitable gift to me;

My name is No-Man; No-Man, each degree

Of friends, as well as parents, call my name.

He answerd, as his cruell soule became:

No-Man! Ile eate thee last of all thy friends;

And this is that, in which so much amends

I vowd to thy deseruings; thus shall be

My hospitable gift, made good to thee.

This said; he vpwards fell; but then bent round

His fleshie necke; and Sleepe (with all crownes, crownd)

Subdude the Sauage. From his throte brake out

My wine, with mans flesh gobbets, like a spout;

When loded with his cups, he lay and snor’d.

And then tooke I the clubs end vp, and gor’d

The burning cole-heape, that the point might heate.

Confirmd my fellowes minds, lest Feare should let

Their vowd assay, and make them flie my aid.

Strait was the Oliue Leuer, I had laid

Amidst the huge fire, to get hardning, hot;

And glowd extremely, though twas greene; (which got

From forth the cinders) close about me stood

My hardie friends: but that which did the good,

Was Gods good inspiration, that gaue

A spirit beyond the spirit they vsde to haue:

Who tooke the Oliue sparre, made keene before,

And plung’d it in his eye: and vp I bore,

Bent to the top close; and helpt poure it in,

With all my forces: [^DLPS245] And as you haue seene

A ship-wright bore a nauall beame; he oft

Thrusts at the Augurs Froofe; works still aloft;

And at the shanke, helpe others; with a cord

Wound round about, to make it sooner bor’d;

All plying the round still: So into his eye,

The firie stake, we labourd to imply.

Out gusht the blood that scalded; his eye-ball

Thrust out a flaming vapour, that scorcht all

His browes and eye-lids; his eye-strings did cracke,

As in, the sharpe and burning rafter brake.

And as a Smith to harden any toole, [^DLPS246]

(Broad Axe, or Mattocke) in his Trough doth coole

The red-hote substance, that so feruent is,

It makes the cold waue strait to seethe and hisse:

So sod, and hizd his eye about the stake.

He roar’d withall; and all his Cauerne brake

In claps like thunder. We, did frighted flie,

Disperst in corners. He from forth his eie,

The fixed stake pluckt: after which, the blood

Flowd freshly forth; and, mad, he hurl’d the wood

About his houill. Out he then did crie

For other Cyclops, that in Cauernes by,

Vpon a windie Promontorie dwelld;

Who hearing how impetuously he yelld,

Rusht euery way about him; and enquir’d,

What ill afflicted him, that he expir’d

Such horrid clamors; and in sacred Night,

To breake their sleepes so? Askt him, if his fright

Came from some mortall, that his flocks had driuen?

Or if by craft, or might, his death were giuen?

He answerd from his den; By craft, nor might,

No man hath giuen me death. They then said right;

If no man hurt thee, and thy selfe alone;

That which is done to thee, by Ioue is done.

And what great Ioue inflicts, no man can flie;

Pray to thy Father yet, [^DLPS247] a Deitie;

And proue, from him, if thou canst helpe acquire.

Thus spake they, leauing him. When all on fire,

My heart with ioy was; that so well my wit,

And name deceiu’d him; whom now paine did split;

And groning vp and downe, he groping tride,

To find the stone, which found, he put aside;

But in the doore sate, feeling if he could

(As his sheepe issude) on some man lay hold;

Esteeming me a foole, that could deuise

No stratageme to scape his grosse surprise.

But I, contending what I could inuent,

My friends and me, from death so imminent,

To get deliuerd: all my wiles I woue,

(Life being the subiect) and did this approue;

Fat fleecie Rams, most faire, and great, lay there,

That did a [^DLPS248] burthen like a Violet beare.

These (while this learn’d in villanie did sleepe)

I yokt with Osiers cut there, sheepe to sheepe;

Three in a ranke; and still the mid sheepe bore

A man about his belly: the two more,

Marcht on his each side for defence. I then,

Chusing my selfe the fairest of the den,

His fleecie belly vnder-crept; embrac’t

His backe, and in his rich wooll wrapt me fast

With both my hands, arm’d with as fast a mind.

And thus each man hung, till the Morning shin’d;

Which come, he knew the houre, and let abroad

His male-flocks first: the females, vnmilkt stood

Bleating and braying; their full bags so sore,

With being vnemptied; but their shepheard more,

With being vnsighted; which was cause, his mind

Went not a milking. He (to wreake enclin’d)

The backs felt as they past, of those male dams:

(Grosse foole) beleeuing, we would ride his Rams.

Nor euer knew, that any of them bore

Vpon his belly, any man before.

The last Ram came to passe him, with his wooll,

And me together, loded to the full:

For there did I hang: and that Ram he staid;

And me withall had in his hands; my head

Troubl’d the while, not causlesly, nor least.

This Ram he grop’t, and talkt to: Lazie beast!

Why last art thou now? thou hast neuer vsde

To lag thus hindmost: but still first hast brusde

The tender blossome of a flowre; and held

State in thy steps, both to the flood and field:

First still at Fold, at Euen; now last remaine?

Doest thou not wish I had mine eye againe,

Which that abhord man No-Man did put out,

Assisted by his execrable rout,

When he had wrought me downe with wine? but he

Must not escape my wreake so cunningly.

I would to heauen thou knewst, and could but speake,

To tell me where he lurks now; I would breake

His braine about my Caue, strewd here and there,

To ease my heart of those foule ils, that were

Th’inflictions of a man, I prisde at nought.

Thus let he him abroad; when I (once brought

A litle from his hold) my selfe first losde,

And next, my friends. Then draue we, and disposde,

His strait-leggd fat fleece-bearers ouer land,

Euen till they all were in my ships command;

And to our lou’d friends, shewd our praid-for sight,

Escap’t from death. But for our losse, outright

They brake in teares; which with a looke I staid,

And bad them take our Boote in. They obaid;

And vp we all went; sate, and vsde our Ores,

But hauing left as farre the sauage shores,

As one might heare a voice; we then might see

The Cyclop at the hauen; when instantly

I staid our Ores, and this insultance vsde:

Cyclop! [^DLPS249] thou shouldst not haue so much abusde

Thy monstrous forces, to oppose their least,

Against a man immartiall, and a guest;

And eate his fellowes: thou mightst know there were

Some ils behind (rude swaine) for thee to beare;

That feard not to deuoure thy guests, and breake

All lawes of humanes: Ioue sends therefore wreake,

And all the Gods, by me. This blew the more

His burning furie; when the top he tore

From off a huge Rocke; and so right a throw

Made at our ship, that iust before the Prow,

It ouerflew and fell: mist Mast and all

Exceeding litle; but about the fall,

So fierce a waue it raisd, that backe it bore

Our ship so farre, it almost toucht the shore.

A bead-hooke then (a far-extended one)

I snatcht vp, thrust hard, and so set vs gone

Some litle way; and strait commanded all

To helpe me with their Ores; on paine to fall

Againe on our confusion. But a signe,

I with my head made; and their Ores were mine,

In all performance. When we off were set,

(Then first, twice further) my heart was so great,

It would againe prouoke him: but my men

On all sides rusht about me, to containe;

And said: Vnhappie! why will you prouoke

A man so rude; that with so dead a stroke,

Giuen with his Rock-dart, made the sea thrust backe

Our ship so farre; and neare hand forc’t our wracke?

Should he againe, but heare your voice resound,

And any word reach; thereby would be found

His Darts direction; which would, in his fall,

Crush peece-meale vs, quite split our ship and all;

So much dart weilds the monster. Thus vrg’d they

Impossible things, in feare; but I gaue way

To that wrath, which so long I held deprest,

(By great Necessitie conquerd) in my brest.

Cyclop! [^DLPS250] if any aske thee, who imposde

Th’vnsightly blemish that thine eye enclosde;

Say that Vlysses (old Laertes sonne,

Whose seate is Ithaca; and who hath wonne

Surname of Citie-racer) bor’d it out.

At this, he braid so loud, that round about

He draue affrighted Ecchoes through the Aire;

And said: O beast! I was premonisht faire,

By aged Prophecie, in one that was

A great, and good man; this should come to passe;

And how tis prou’d now? Augur Telemus,

Surnam’d Eurymedes (that spent with vs

His age in Augurie; and did exceed

In all presage of Truth) said all this deed,

Should this euent take; author’d by the hand

Of one Vlysses; who I thought was mand

With great and goodly personage; and bore

A vertue answerable: and this shore

Should shake with weight of such a conqueror,

When now a weakling came, a dwarfie thing,

A thing of nothing; who yet wit did bring,

That brought supply to all; and with his wine,

Put out the flame, where all my light did shine.

Come, land againe, Vlysses! that my hand,

May Guest-rites giue thee; and the great command,

That Neptune hath at sea, I may conuert

To the deduction, where abides thy heart,

With my sollicitings; whose Sonne I am;

And whose fame boasts to beare my Fathers • ame.

Nor thinke my hurt offends me; for my S • e

Can soone repose in it the visuall fire,

At his free pleasure; which no powre beside

Can boast: of men, or of the Deifide.

I answerd: Would to God I could compell

Both life and soule from thee; and send to hell

Those spoiles of nature. Hardly Nept • ne then

Could cure thy hurt, and giue th • e all again.

Then flew fierce vowes to Nept • ne; [^DLPS251] both his hands

To starre-borne heauen cast: O tho • that all lands

Girdst in thy ambient Cir • le; and in aire

Shak’st the curld Tresses of thy Saphire haire;

If I be thine, or thou maist iustly vant,

Thou art my Father: heare me now, and grant

That this Vlysses (old Laertes sonne,

That dwels in Ithaca; and name hath wonne

Of Citie-ruiner) may neuer reach

His naturall region. Or if to fetch,

That, and the sight of his faire roo • es and friends,

Be fatall to him; let him that Amends

For all his miseries, long time and ill,

Smart for, and faile of: nor that Fate fulfill,

Till all his souldiers quite are cast away

In others ships. And when, at last, the day

Of his sole-landing, shall his dwelling show,

Let Detriment prepare him wrongs enow.

Thus praid he Neptune; who, his Sire appeard;

And all his praire, to euery syllable heard.

But then a Rocke, in size more amplified

Then first, he rauisht to him; and implied

A dismall strength in it; when (wheeld about)

He sent it after vs; nor flew it out

From any blind aime; for a litle passe

Beyond our Fore-decke, from the fall there was:

With which the sea, our ship gaue backe vpon,

And shrunke vp into billowes from the stone;

Our ship againe repelling, neare as neare

The shore as first. But then our Rowers were

(Being warnd, more armd) and stronglier stemd the flood

That bore backe on vs, till our ship made good

The other Iland, where our whole Fleet lay;

In which our friends lay mourning for our stay;

And euery minute lookt when we should land.

Where (now arriu’d) we drew vp to the sand;

The Cyclops sheepe diuiding, that none there

(Of all our priuates) might be wrung, and beare

Too much on powre. The Ram yet was alone,

By all my friends, made all my portion,

Aboue all others; and I made him then,

A [^DLPS252] sacrifice for me, and all my men,

To cloud-compelling Ioue, that all commands.

To whom I burnd the Thighs: but my sad hands,

Receiu’d no grace from him; who studied how

To offer, men and fleete to Ouerthrow.

All day, till Sun-set yet, we sate and eate;

And liberall store tooke in, of wine and meate.

The Sunne then downe, and place resign’d to shade,

We slept; Morne came, my men I raisd, and made

All go aboord; weigh Anker, and away.

They boorded, sate and beate the aged sea;

And forth we made saile; sad for losse before,

And yet had comfort, since we lost no more.

T O the Aeolian Iland we attaind,

That swumme about still on the sea; where raign’d

The God-lou’d Aeolus Hippotydes.

A wall of steele it had; and in the seas,

A waue-beat-smooth-rocke, mou’d about the wall.

Twelue children, in his house imperiall,

Were borne to him: of which, sixe daughters were,

And sixe were sonnes, that youths sweet flowre did beare.

His daughters, to his sonnes he gaue, as wiues;

Who spent in feastfull comforts▪ all their liues;

Close seated by their Sire, and his graue Spouse.

Past number were the dishes, that the house

Made euer sauour; and still full the Hall;

As long as day shin’d; in the night-time, all

Slept with their chaste wiues. Each his faire caru’d bed

Most richly furnisht; and this life they led.

We reacht the Cittie, and faire roofes of these;

Where, a whole moneths time; all things that might please

The King vouchsaf’t vs. Of great Troy enquir’d,

The Grecian fleete, and how the Greekes retir’d:

To all which, I gaue answer, as behou’d.

The fit time come; when I dismission mou’d;

He nothing would denie me, but addrest

My passe with such a bountie, as might best

Teach me contentment. For he did enfold

Within an Oxe hide, flead at nine yeares old,

All th’airie blasts, that were of stormie kinds.

Saturnius made him Steward of his winds; [^DLPS253]

And gaue him powre, to raise and to asswage;

And these he gaue me, curbd thus of their rage.

Which in a glittering siluer band I bound

And hung vp in my ship: enclosd so round,

That no egression, any breath could find.

Onely he left abroad the Westerne wind;

To speede our ships and vs, with blasts secure.

But our securities, made all vnsure:

Nor could he consummate our course alone,

When all the rest had got egression.

Which thus succeeded. Nine whole daies and nights

We saild in safetie; and the tenth, the lights

Borne on our Countrey earth, we might descrie:

So neere we drew, and yet euen then fell I

(Being ouerwatcht) into a fatall sleepe:

For I would suffer no man else to keepe

The foote that rul’d my vessels course; [^DLPS254] to leade

The faster home. My friends then Enuy fed,

About the bag I hung vp; and supposde,

That gold, and siluer, I had there enclosde,

As gift from Aeolus. And said, O heauen!

What grace, and graue price, is by all men giuen

To our Commander? Whatsoeuer coast

Or towne, he comes to, how much he engrost

Of faire and precious prey, and brought from Troy?

We the same voiage went; and yet enioy

In our returne, these emptie hands for all.

This bag now, Aeolus was so liberall

To make a Guest-gift to him. Let vs trie

Of what consists, the faire-bound Treasurie;

And how much gold, and siluer it containes.

Ill counsaile, present approbation gaines.

They op’t the bag, and out the vapours brake;

When instant tempest did our vessell take,

That bore vs backe to Sea; to mourne anew

Our absent Countrey. Vp amazd I flew,

And desperate things discourst; if I should cast

My selfe to ruine in the seas; or taste

Amongst the liuing more mone, and sustaine?

Silent, I did so; and lay hid againe

Beneath the hatches: while an ill winde tooke

My ships, backe to Aeolia: my men strooke

With woe enough. We pumpt and landed then;

Tooke foode, for all this; and (of all my men,)

I tooke a Herald to me, and away

Went to the Court of Aeolus; Where they

Were feasting still: he, wife and children set

Together close. We would not (at their meate)

Thrust in; but humbly on the threshold sat.

He then, amazd, my presence wonderd at;

And calld to me: Vlysses! how, thus backe

Art thou arriu’d here? what foule spirit brake

Into thy bosome to retire thee thus?

We thought we had deduction, curious

Giuen thee before; to reach thy shore and home:

Did it not like thee? I (euen ouercome

With worthy sorrow) answerd: My ill men

Haue done me mischiefe; and to them hath bene

My sleepe th’vnhappie motiue. But do you

(Dearest of friends) daigne succour to my vow:

Your powres command it. Thus endeuord I

With soft speech to repaire my misery.

The rest, with ruth, sat dumbe: but thus spake he;

Auant; and quickly quit my land of thee,

Thou worst of all that breathe; it fits not me

To conuoy, and take in, whom heauens expose.

Away, and with thee go, the worst of woes,

That seek’st my friendship, and the Gods thy foes.

Thus he dismist me, sighing; foorth we saild,

At heart afflicted: and now wholy faild

The minds my men sustaind▪ so spent they were

With toiling at their oares; and worse did beare

Their growing labours; that they causd their grought,

By selfe-willd follies; nor now, euer thought

To see their Countrey more. Six nights and daies

We saild; the seuenth, we saw faire Lamos raise

Her loftie Towres (The Laestrigonian State)

That beares her Ports, so farre disterminate.

Where [^DLPS255] Shepheard, Shepheard calls out; he a home

Is calld out by the other that doth come