Oft as in council under Ilium's walls 620 We met, he ever foremost was in speech, Nor spake erroneous; Nestor and myself Except, no Greecian could with him compare.

Oft, too, as we with battle hemm'd around Troy's bulwarks, from among the mingled crowd Thy son sprang foremost into martial act, Inferior in heroic worth to none.

Beneath him num'rous fell the sons of Troy In dreadful fight, nor have I pow'r to name Distinctly all, who by his glorious arm 630 Exerted in the cause of Greece, expired.

Yet will I name Eurypylus, the son Of Telephus, an Hero whom his sword Of life bereaved, and all around him strew'd The plain with his Cetean warriors, won To Ilium's side by bribes to women giv'n.[51]

Save n.o.ble Memnon only, I beheld No Chief at Ilium beautiful as he.

Again, when we within the horse of wood Framed by Epeus sat, an ambush chos'n 640 Of all the bravest Greeks, and I in trust Was placed to open or to keep fast-closed The hollow fraud; then, ev'ry Chieftain there And Senator of Greece wiped from his cheeks The tears, and tremors felt in ev'ry limb; But never saw I changed to terror's hue _His_ ruddy cheek, no tears wiped _he_ away, But oft he press'd me to go forth, his suit With pray'rs enforcing, griping hard his hilt And his bra.s.s-burthen'd spear, and dire revenge 650 Denouncing, ardent, on the race of Troy.

At length, when we had sack'd the lofty town Of Priam, laden with abundant spoils He safe embark'd, neither by spear or shaft Aught hurt, or in close fight by faulchion's edge, As oft in war befalls, where wounds are dealt Promiscuous at the will of fiery Mars.

So I; then striding large, the spirit thence Withdrew of swift aeacides, along The h.o.a.ry mead pacing,[52] with joy elate 660 That I had blazon'd bright his son's renown.

The other souls of men by death dismiss'd Stood mournful by, sad uttering each his woes; The soul alone I saw standing remote Of Telamonian Ajax, still incensed That in our public contest for the arms Worn by Achilles, and by Thetis thrown Into dispute, my claim had strongest proved, Troy and Minerva judges of the cause.

Disastrous victory! which I could wish 670 Not to have won, since for that armour's sake The earth hath cover'd Ajax, in his form And martial deeds superior far to all The Greecians, Peleus' matchless son except.

I, seeking to appease him, thus began.

O Ajax, son of glorious Telamon!

Canst thou remember, even after death, Thy wrath against me, kindled for the sake Of those pernicious arms? arms which the G.o.ds Ordain'd of such dire consequence to Greece, 680 Which caused thy death, our bulwark! Thee we mourn With grief perpetual, nor the death lament Of Peleus' son, Achilles, more than thine.

Yet none is blameable; Jove evermore With bitt'rest hate pursued Achaia's host, And he ordain'd thy death. Hero! approach, That thou may'st hear the words with which I seek To sooth thee; let thy long displeasure cease!

Quell all resentment in thy gen'rous breast!

I spake; nought answer'd he, but sullen join'd 690 His fellow-ghosts; yet, angry as he was, I had prevail'd even on him to speak, Or had, at least, accosted him again, But that my bosom teem'd with strong desire Urgent, to see yet others of the dead.

There saw I Minos, offspring famed of Jove; His golden sceptre in his hand, he sat Judge of the dead; they, pleading each in turn, His cause, some stood, some sat, filling the house Whose s.p.a.cious folding-gates are never closed. 700 Orion next, huge ghost, engaged my view, Droves urging o'er the gra.s.sy mead, of beasts Which he had slain, himself, on the wild hills, With strong club arm'd of ever-during bra.s.s.

There also t.i.tyus on the ground I saw Extended, offspring of the glorious earth; Nine acres he o'erspread, and, at his side Station'd, two vultures on his liver prey'd, Scooping his entrails; nor sufficed his hands To fray them thence; for he had sought to force 710 Latona, ill.u.s.trious concubine of Jove, What time the G.o.ddess journey'd o'er the rocks Of Pytho into pleasant Panopeus.

Next, suff'ring grievous torments, I beheld Tantalus; in a pool he stood, his chin Wash'd by the wave; thirst-parch'd he seem'd, but found Nought to a.s.suage his thirst; for when he bow'd His h.o.a.ry head, ardent to quaff, the flood Vanish'd absorb'd, and, at his feet, adust The soil appear'd, dried, instant, by the G.o.ds. 720 Tall trees, fruit-laden, with inflected heads Stoop'd to him, pomegranates, apples bright, The luscious fig, and unctuous olive smooth; Which when with sudden grasp he would have seized, Winds hurl'd them high into the dusky clouds.

There, too, the hard-task'd Sisyphus I saw, Thrusting before him, strenuous, a vast rock.[53]

With hands and feet struggling, he shoved the stone Up to a hill-top; but the steep well-nigh Vanquish'd, by some great force repulsed,[54] the ma.s.s 730 Rush'd again, obstinate, down to the plain.

Again, stretch'd p.r.o.ne, severe he toiled, the sweat Bathed all his weary limbs, and his head reek'd.

The might of Hercules I, next, survey'd; His semblance; for himself their banquet shares With the Immortal G.o.ds, and in his arms Enfolds neat-footed Hebe, daughter fair Of Jove, and of his golden-sandal'd spouse.

Around him, clamorous as birds, the dead Swarm'd turbulent; he, gloomy-brow'd as night, 740 With uncased bow and arrow on the string Peer'd terrible from side to side, as one Ever in act to shoot; a dreadful belt He bore athwart his bosom, thong'd with gold.

There, broider'd shone many a stupendous form, Bears, wild boars, lions with fire-flashing eyes, Fierce combats, battles, bloodshed, homicide.

The artist, author of that belt, none such Before, produced, or after. Me his eye No sooner mark'd, than knowing me, in words 750 By sorrow quick suggested, he began.

Laertes' n.o.ble son, for wiles renown'd!

Ah, hapless Hero! thou art, doubtless, charged, Thou also, with some arduous labour, such As in the realms of day I once endured.

Son was I of Saturnian Jove, yet woes Immense sustain'd, subjected to a King Inferior far to me, whose harsh commands Enjoin'd me many a terrible exploit.

He even bade me on a time lead hence 760 The dog, that task believing above all Impracticable; yet from Ades him I dragg'd reluctant into light, by aid Of Hermes, and of Pallas azure-eyed.

So saying, he penetrated deep again The abode of Pluto; but I still unmoved There stood expecting, curious, other shades To see of Heroes in old time deceased.

And now, more ancient worthies still, and whom I wish'd, I had beheld, Pirithous 770 And Theseus, glorious progeny of G.o.ds, But nations, first, numberless of the dead Came shrieking hideous; me pale horror seized, Lest awful Proserpine should thither send The Gorgon-head from Ades, sight abhorr'd!

I, therefore, hasting to the vessel, bade My crew embark, and cast the hawsers loose.

They, quick embarking, on the benches sat.

Down the Ocea.n.u.s[55] the current bore My galley, winning, at the first, her way 780 With oars, then, wafted by propitious gales.

FOOTNOTES:

[40] Milton.

[41] The sh.o.r.e of Scilly commonly called Trinacria, but _Euphonice_ by Homer, Thrinacia.

[42] The expression is used by Milton, and signifies--Beset with many difficulties.

[43] Mistaking the oar for a corn-van. A sure indication of his ignorance of maritime concerns.

[44] By the Tragedians called--Jocasta.

[45] Iphicles had been informed by the Oracles that he should have no children till instructed by a prophet how to obtain them; a service which Melampus had the good fortune to render him.

[46] Apollo.

[47] Bacchus accused her to Diana of having lain with Theseus in his temple, and the G.o.ddess punished her with death.

[48] Probably meaning Helen.

[49] This is surely one of the most natural strokes to be found in any Poet. Convinced, for a moment, by the virtues of Penelope, he mentioned her with respect; but recollecting himself suddenly, involves even her in his general ill opinion of the s.e.x, begotten in him by the crimes of Clytemnestra.

[50] Another most beautiful stroke of nature. Ere yet Ulysses has had opportunity to answer, the very thought that Peleus may possibly be insulted, fires him, and he takes the whole for granted. Thus is the impetuous character of Achilles sustained to the last moment!

[51] G??a??? e??e?a d????--Priam is said to have influenced by gifts the wife and mother of Eurypylus, to persuade him to the a.s.sistance of Troy, he being himself unwilling to engage. The pa.s.sage through defect of history has long been dark, and commentators have adapted different senses to it, all conjectural. The Ceteans are said to have been a people of Mysia, of which Eurypylus was King.

[52] ?at' asf?de??? ?e???a--Asphodel was planted on the graves and around the tombs of the deceased, and hence the supposition that the Stygian plain was clothed with asphodel. F.

[53] ?asa???ta must have this sense interpreted by what follows. To attempt to make the English numbers expressive as the Greek is a labour like that of Sisyphus. The Translator has done what he could.

[54] It is now, perhaps, impossible to ascertain with precision what Homer meant by the word ??ata???, which he uses only here, and in the next book, where it is the name of Scylla's dam.--??a?d??--is also of very doubtful explication.

[55] The two first lines of the following book seem to ascertain the true meaning of the conclusion of this, and to prove sufficiently that by ??ea??? here Homer could not possibly intend any other than a river. In those lines he tells us in the plainest terms that _the ship left the stream of the river Ocea.n.u.s, and arrived in the open sea_. Diodorus Siculus informs us that ??ea??? had been a name anciently given to the Nile. See Clarke.

BOOK XII

ARGUMENT

Ulysses, pursuing his narrative, relates his return from the shades to Circe's island, the precautions given him by that G.o.ddess, his escape from the Sirens, and from Scylla and Charybdis; his arrival in Sicily, where his companions, having slain and eaten the oxen of the Sun, are afterward shipwrecked and lost; and concludes the whole with an account of his arrival, alone, on the mast of his vessel, at the island of Calypso.

And now, borne seaward from the river-stream Of the Ocea.n.u.s, we plow'd again The s.p.a.cious Deep, and reach'd th' aeaean isle, Where, daughter of the dawn, Aurora takes Her choral sports, and whence the sun ascends.

We, there arriving, thrust our bark aground On the smooth beach, then landed, and on sh.o.r.e Reposed, expectant of the sacred dawn.

But soon as day-spring's daughter rosy-palm'd Look'd forth again, sending my friends before, 10 I bade them bring Elpenor's body down From the abode of Circe to the beach.

Then, on the utmost headland of the coast We timber fell'd, and, sorrowing o'er the dead, His fun'ral rites water'd with tears profuse.

The dead consumed, and with the dead his arms, We heap'd his tomb, and the sepulchral post Erecting, fix'd his shapely oar aloft.

Thus, punctual, we perform'd; nor our return From Ades knew not Circe, but attired 20 In haste, ere long arrived, with whom appear'd Her female train with plenteous viands charged, And bright wine rosy-red. Amidst us all Standing, the beauteous G.o.ddess thus began.

Ah miserable! who have sought the shades Alive! while others of the human race Die only once, appointed twice to die!

Come--take ye food; drink wine; and on the sh.o.r.e All day regale, for ye shall hence again At day-spring o'er the Deep; but I will mark 30 Myself your future course, nor uninform'd Leave you in aught, lest, through some dire mistake, By sea or land new mis'ries ye incur.

The G.o.ddess spake, whose invitation kind We glad accepted; thus we feasting sat Till set of sun, and quaffing richest wine; But when the sun went down and darkness fell, My crew beside the hawsers slept, while me The G.o.ddess by the hand leading apart, First bade me sit, then, seated opposite, 40 Enquired, minute, of all that I had seen, And I, from first to last, recounted all.

Then, thus the awful G.o.ddess in return.

Thus far thy toils are finish'd. Now attend!

Mark well my words, of which the G.o.ds will sure Themselves remind thee in the needful hour.

First shalt thou reach the Sirens; they the hearts Enchant of all who on their coast arrive.

The wretch, who unforewarn'd approaching, hears The Sirens' voice, his wife and little-ones 50 Ne'er fly to gratulate his glad return, But him the Sirens sitting in the meads Charm with mellifluous song, while all around The bones acc.u.mulated lie of men Now putrid, and the skins mould'ring away.

But, pa.s.s them thou, and, lest thy people hear Those warblings, ere thou yet approach, fill all Their ears with wax moulded between thy palms; But as for thee--thou hear them if thou wilt.

Yet let thy people bind thee to the mast 60 Erect, encompa.s.sing thy feet and arms With cordage well-secured to the mast-foot, So shalt thou, raptur'd, hear the Sirens' song.

But if thou supplicate to be released, Or give such order, then, with added cords Let thy companions bind thee still the more.

When thus thy people shall have safely pa.s.s'd The Sirens by, think not from me to learn What course thou next shalt steer; two will occur; Delib'rate chuse; I shall describe them both. 70 Here vaulted rocks impend, dash'd by the waves Immense of Amphitrite azure-eyed; The blessed G.o.ds those rocks, Erratic, call.

Birds cannot pa.s.s them safe; no, not the doves Which his ambrosia bear to Father Jove, But even of those doves the slipp'ry rock Proves fatal still to one, for which the G.o.d Supplies another, lest the number fail.