University of Virginia Library


5

THE TWENTIETH BOOK OF THE ODYSSEY.


6

The ARGUMENT.

While Ulysses lies in the Vestibule of the Palace, he is witness to the disorders of the women. Minerva comforts him and casts him asleep. At his awaking he desires a favourable sign from Jupiter, which is granted. The feast of Apollo is celebrated by the People, and the Suitors banquet in the Palace. Telemachus exerts his authority amongst them, notwithstanding which, Ulysses is insulted by Ctesippus, and the rest continue in their excesses. Strange Prodigies are seen by Theoclymenus the Augur, who explains them to the destruction of the Wooers.


7

An ample hide divine Ulysses spread,
And form'd of fleecy skins his humble bed:
(The remnants of the spoil the suitor-crowd
In festival devour'd, and victims vow'd.)
Then o'er the chief, Eurynome the chaste
With duteous care a downy carpet cast:
With dire revenge his thoughtful bosom glows,
And ruminating wrath, he scorns repose.
As thus pavilion'd in the porch he lay,
Scenes of lewd loves his wakeful eyes survey.

8

Whilst to nocturnal joys impure, repair
With wanton glee, the prostituted fair.

9

His heart with rage this new dishonour stung,
Wav'ring his thoughts in dubious balance hung;
Or, instant should he quench the guilty flame
With their own blood, and intercept the shame;
Or to their lust indulge a last embrace,
And let the Peers consummate the disgrace?
Round his swol'n heart the murm'rous fury rowls;
As o'er her young the mother-mastiff growls,

10

And bays the stranger groom: so wrath comprest
Recoiling, mutter'd thunder in his breast.
Poor suff'ring heart! he cry'd, support the pain
Of wounded honour, and thy rage restrain.

11

Not fiercer woes thy fortitude cou'd foil,
When the brave partners of thy ten years toil
Dire Polypheme devour'd: I then was freed
By patient prudence, from the death decreed.
Thus anchor'd safe on reason's peaceful coast,
Tempests of wrath his soul no longer tost;
Restless his body rolls, to rage resign'd:
As one who long with pale-ey'd famine pin'd,

12

The sav'ry cates on glowing embers cast
Incessant turns, impatient for repast:
Ulysses so, from side to side devolv'd,
In self-debate the Suitors doom resolv'd.
When in the form of mortal nymph array'd,
From heav'n descends the Jove-born martial Maid;
And hov'ring o'er his head in view confess'd,
The Goddess thus her fav'rite care address'd.

13

Oh thou, of mortals most inur'd to woes!
Why rowl those eyes unfriended of repose?
Beneath thy palace-roof forget thy care;
Blest in thy Queen! blest in thy blooming heir!
Whom, to the Gods when suppliant fathers bow,
They name the standard of their dearest vow.
Just is thy kind reproach (the chief rejoin'd)
Deeds full of fate distract my various mind,
In contemplation rapt. This hostile crew
What single arm hath prowess to subdue?
Or if by Jove's, and thy auxiliar aid,
They're doom'd to bleed; O say, cœlestial maid:
Where shall Ulysses shun, or how sustain,
Nations embattel'd to revenge the slain?
Oh impotence of faith! Minerva cries,
If man on frail unknowing man relies,
Doubt you the Gods? Lo Pallas' self descends,
Inspires thy counsels, and thy toils attends.

14

In me affianc'd, fortify thy breast,
Tho' myriads leagu'd thy rightful claim contest;
My sure divinity shall bear the shield,
And edge thy sword to reap the glorious field.
Now, pay the debt to craving nature due,
Her faded pow'rs with balmy rest renew.
She ceas'd: Ambrosial slumbers seal his eyes;
His care dissolves in visionary joys:
The Goddess pleas'd, regains her natal skies.
Not so the Queen; The downy bands of sleep
By grief relax'd, she wak'd again to sleep
A gloomy pause ensu'd of dumb despair;
Then thus her fate invok'd, with fervent pray'r.

15

Diana! speed thy deathful ebon dart,
And cure the pangs of this convulsive heart.
Snatch me, ye whirlwinds! far from human race,
Tost thro' the void, illimitable space:
Or if dismounted from the rapid cloud,
Me with his whelming wave let Ocean shrow'd!
So, Pandarus, thy hopes, three orphan fair
Were doom'd to wander thro' the devious air;
Thy self untimely and thy consort dy'd,
But four Cœlestials both your cares supply'd.

16

Venus in tender delicacy rears
With honey, milk, and wine, their infant years:
Imperial Juno to their youth assign'd
A form majestic, and sagacious mind:
With shapely growth Diana grac'd their bloom;
And Pallas taught the texture of the loom.
But whilst to learn their lots in nuptial love,
Bright Cytherea sought the bow'r of Jove;
(The God supreme, to whose eternal eye
The registers of fate expanded lie)

17

Wing'd Harpies snatch'd th' unguarded charge away,
And to the Furies bore a grateful prey.
Be such my lot! Or thou Diana speed
Thy shaft, and send me joyful to the dead:
To seek my Lord among the warrior-train,
E're second vows my bridal faith profane.
When woes the waking sense alone assail,
Whilst night extends her soft oblivious veil,
Of other wretches care the torture ends:
No truce the warfare of my heart suspends!
The night renews the day-distracting theme,
And airy terrors sable ev'ry dream.
The last alone a kind illusion wrought,
And to my bed my lov'd Ulysses brought,

18

In manly bloom, and each majestic grace
As when for Troy he left my fond embrace:
Such raptures in my beating bosom rise,
I deem it sure a vision of the skies.
Thus, whilst Aurora mounts her purple throne,
In audible laments she breathes her moan:
The sounds assault Ulysses' wakeful ear;
Mis-judging of the cause, a sudden fear
Of his arrival known, the Chief alarms;
He thinks the Queen is rushing to his arms.

19

Up-springing from his couch, with active haste
The fleece and carpet in the dome he plac'd:
(The hide, without imbib'd the morning air.)
And thus the Gods invok'd, with ardent pray'r.
Jove, and ethereal thrones! with heav'n to friend
If the long series of my woes shall end;
Of human race now rising from repose,
Let one a blissful omen here disclose:

20

And to confirm my faith, propitious Jove!
Vouchsafe the sanction of a sign above.
Whilst lowly thus the Chief adoring bows,
The pitying God his guardian aid avows.
Loud from a saphire sky his thunder sounds:
With springing hope the Heroe's heart rebounds.
Soon, with consummate joy to crown his pray'r,
An omen'd Voice invades his ravish'd ear.

21

Beneath a pile that close the dome adjoin'd,
Twelve female slaves the gift of Ceres grind;
Task'd for the royal board to bolt the bran
From the pure flour (the growth and strength of man)
Discharging to the day the labour due,
Now early to repose the rest withdrew;
One maid, unequal to the task assign'd,
Still turn'd the toilsome mill with anxious mind;
And thus in bitterness of soul divin'd.
Father of Gods and men! whose thunders rowl
O'er the Cerulean Vault, and shake the Pole;
Whoe'er from heav'n has gain'd this rare Ostent,
(Of granted vows a certain signal sent)
In this blest moment of accepted pray'r
Piteous, regard a wretch consum'd with care!
Instant, O Jove! confound the Suitor train,
For whom o'er-toil'd I grind the golden grain:
Far from this dome the lewd devourers cast,
And be this festival decreed their last!

22

Big with their doom denounc'd in earth and sky,
Ulysses' heart dilates with secret joy.
Mean-time the menial train with unctuous wood
Heap'd high the genial hearth, Vulcanian food:
When, early dress'd, advanc'd the royal heir;
With manly grasp he wav'd a martial spear,
A radiant sabre grac'd his purple zone,
And on his foot the golden sandal shone.
His steps impetuous to the portal press'd;
And Euryclea thus he there address'd.
Say thou, to whom my youth its nurture owes,
Was care for due refection, and repose,
Bestow'd the stranger guest? Or waits he griev'd,
His age not honour'd, nor his wants reliev'd?
Promiscuous grace on all the Queen confers;
(In woes bewilder'd, oft the wisest errs.)
The wordy vagrant to the dole aspires,
And modest worth with noble scorn retires.

23

She thus: O cease that ever-honour'd name
To blemish now; it ill deserves your blame:
A bowl of gen'rous wine suffic'd the guest;
In vain the Queen the night-refection prest;
Nor wou'd he court repose in downy state,
Unbless'd, abandon'd to the rage of fate!
A hide beneath the portico was spread,
And fleecy skins compos'd an humble bed:
A downy carpet cast with duteous care,
Secur'd him from the keen nocturnal air.
His cornel javelin pois'd, with regal port,
To the sage Greeks conven'd in Themis' court,
Forth-issuing from the dome the Prince repair'd:
Two dogs of chace, a lion-hearted guard,
Behind him sow'rly stalk'd. Without delay
The dame divides the labour of the day;
Thus urging to the toil the menial train.
What marks of luxury the marble stain!
Its wonted lustre let the floor regain;

24

The seats with purple cloathe in order due;
And let th' abstersive sponge the board renew:
Let some refresh the vase's sullied mold;
Some bid the goblets boast their native gold:
Some to the spring, with each a jar, repair,
And copious waters pure for bathing bear:

25

Dispatch! for soon the Suitors will assay
The lunar feast-rites to the God of day.
She said; with duteous haste a bevy fair
Of twenty virgins to the spring repair:
With varied toils the rest adorn the dome.
Magnificent, and blithe, the Suitors come.
Some wield the sounding ax; the dodder'd oaks
Divide, obedient to the forceful strokes.
Soon from the fount, with each a brimming urn,
(Eumæus in their train) the maids return.
Three porkers for the feast, all brawny chin'd,
He brought; the choicest of the tusky kind:

26

In lodgments first secure his care he view'd,
Then to the King this friendly speech renew'd:
Now say sincere, my guest! the Suitor train
Still treat thy worth with lordly dull disdain;
Or speaks their deed a bounteous mind humane?
Some pitying God (Ulysses sad reply'd)
With vollied vengeance blast their tow'ring pride!
No conscious blush, no sense of right restrains
The tides of lust that swell their boiling veins:
From vice to vice their appetites are tost,
All cheaply sated at another's cost!
While thus the Chief his woes indignant told,
Melanthius, master of the bearded fold,
The goodliest goats of all the royal herd
Spontaneous to the Suitors' feast preferr'd:
Two grooms assistant bore the victims bound;
With quav'ring cries the vaulted roofs resound:
And to the Chief austere, aloud began
The wretch unfriendly to the race of man.
Here, vagrant, still? offensive to my Lords!
Blows have more energy than airy words;
Those arguments I'll use: nor conscious shame,
Nor threats, thy bold intrusion will reclaim.

27

On this high feast the meanest vulgar boast
A plenteous board! Hence! seek another host!
Rejoinder to the churl the King disdain'd,
But shook his head, and rising wrath restrain'd.
From Cephalenia cross the surgy main
Philætius late arriv'd, a faithful swain.
A steer ungrateful to the bull's embrace,
And goats he brought, the pride of all their race;
Imported in a shallop not his own:
The dome re-echo'd to their mingled moan.
Strait to the guardian of the bristly kind
He thus began, benevolent of mind.
What guest is he, of such majestic air?
His lineage and paternal clime declare:
Dim thro' th' eclipse of fate, the rays divine
Of sovereign state with faded splendor shine.

28

If Monarchs by the Gods are plung'd in woe,
To what abyss are we foredoom'd to go!
Then affable he thus the Chief address'd,
Whilst with pathetic warmth his hand he press'd.
Stranger! may fate a milder aspect shew,
And spin thy future with a whiter clue!
O Jove! for ever deaf to human cries;
The tyrant, not the father of the skies!

29

Unpiteous of the race thy will began,
The fool of fate, thy manufacture, man,
With penury, contempt, repulse, and care,
The gauling load of life is doom'd to bear.
Ulysses from his state a wand'rer still,
Upbraids thy pow'r, thy wisdom, or thy will:
O Monarch ever dear!—O man of woe!—
Fresh flow my tears, and shall for ever flow!

30

Like thee, poor stranger guest, deny'd his home!
Like thee, in rags obscene decreed to roam!
Or haply perish'd on some distant coast,
In Stygian gloom he glides a pensive ghost!
O, grateful for the good his bounty gave,
I'll grieve, 'till sorrow sink me to the grave!
His kind protecting hand my youth preferr'd,
The regent of his Cephalenian herd:
With vast increase beneath my care it spreads,
A stately breed! and blackens far the meads.
Constrain'd, the choicest beeves I thence import,
To cram these cormorants that crowd his court:
Who in partition seek his realm to share;
Nor human right, nor wrath divine revere.
Since here resolv'd oppressive these reside,
Contending doubts my anxious heart divide:
Now, to some foreign clime inclin'd to fly,
And with the royal herd protection buy:

31

Then, happier thoughts return the nodding scale,
Light mounts despair, alternate hopes prevail:
In op'ning prospects of ideal joy,
My King returns; the proud Usurpers die.
To whom the Chief: In thy capacious mind
Since daring zeal with cool debate is join'd;
Attend a deed already ripe in fate:
Attest, oh Jove, the truth I now relate!
This sacred truth attest each genial pow'r,
Who bless the board, and guard this friendly bow'r!
Before thou quit the dome (nor long delay)
Thy wish produc'd in act, with pleas'd survey,
Thy wond'ring eyes shall view: his rightful reign
By arms avow'd Ulysses shall regain,
And to the shades devote the Suitor-train.
O Jove supreme, the raptur'd swain replies,
With deeds consummate soon the promis'd joys!
These aged nerves with new-born vigor strung,
In that blest cause shou'd emulate the young—
Assents Eumæus to the pray'r addrest;
And equal ardors fire his loyal breast.
Mean-time the Suitors urge the Prince's fate,
And deathful arts employ the dire debate:

32

When in his airy tour, the bird of Jove
Truss'd with his sinewy pounce a trembling dove;
Sinister to their hope! This omen ey'd
Amphinomus, who thus presaging cry'd.
The Gods from force and fraud the Prince defend;
O Peers! the sanguinary scheme suspend:
Your future thought let sable Fate employ;
And give the present hour to genial joy.
From council strait th'assenting peerage ceas'd,
And in the dome prepar'd the genial feast.

33

Dis-rob'd, their vests apart in order lay,
Then all with speed succinct the victims slay:
With sheep and shaggy goats the porkers bled,
And the proud steer was on the marble spread.
With fire prepar'd they deal the morsels round,
Wine rosy-bright the brimming goblets crown'd,
By sage Eumæus born: the purple tide
Melanthius from an ample jar supply'd:
High canisters of bread Philætius plac'd;
And eager all devour the rich repast.
Dispos'd apart, Ulysses shares the treat!
A trivet-table, and ignobler seat,

34

The Prince appoints; but to his Sire assigns
The tasteful inwards, and nectareous wines.
Partake my guest, he cry'd, without controul
The social feast, and drain the cheering bowl:
Dread not the railer's laugh, nor ruffian's rage;
No vulgar roof protects thy honour'd age;
This dome a refuge to thy wrongs shall be,
From my great Sire too soon devolv'd to me!
Your violence and scorn, ye Suitors cease,
Lest arms avenge the violated peace.
Aw'd by the Prince, so haughty, brave, and young,
Rage gnaw'd the lip, amazement chain'd the tongue.
Be patient, Peers! at length Antinous cries;
The threats of vain imperious youth despise:
Wou'd Jove permit the meditated blow,
That stream of eloquence shou'd cease to flow.
Without reply vouchsaf'd, Antinous ceas'd:
Mean-while the pomp of festival increas'd:
By Heralds rank'd, in marshall'd order move
The city-tribes, to pleas'd Apollo's grove:
Beneath the verdure of which awful shade,
The lunar hetacomb they grateful laid;
Partook the sacred feast, and ritual honours paid.

35

But the rich banquet in the dome prepar'd,
(An humble side-board set) Ulysses shar'd.
Observant of the Prince's high behest,
His menial train attend the stranger guest;
Whom Pallas with unpard'ning fury fir'd,
By lordly pride and keen reproach inspir'd.
A Samian Peer, more studious than the rest
Of vice, who teem'd with many a dead-born jest;
And urg'd, for title to a consort Queen,
Unnumber'd acres arable and green;
(Ctesippus nam'd) this Lord Ulysses ey'd,
And thus burst out, imposthumate with pride.
The sentence I propose, ye Peers, attend:
Since due regard must wait the Prince's friend,
Let each a token of esteem bestow:
This gift acquits the dear respect I owe;
With which he nobly may discharge his seat,
And pay the menials for the master's treat.
He said; and of the steer before him plac'd,
That sinewy fragment at Ulysses cast,
Where to the pastern-bone by nerves combin'd,
The well-horn'd foot indissolubly join'd;
Which whizzing high, the wall unseemly sign'd.

36

The Chief indignant grins a ghastly smile;
Revenge and scorn within his bosom boil:

37

When thus the Prince with pious rage inflam'd:
Had not th'inglorious wound thy malice aim'd
Fall'n guiltless of the mark, my certain spear
Had made thee buy the brutal triumph dear:
Nor shou'd thy Sire a Queen his daughter boast,
The Suitor now had vanish'd in a ghost:
No more, ye lewd Compeers, with lawless pow'r
Invade my dome, my herds and flocks devour:
For genuine worth, of age mature to know,
My grape shall redden, and my harvest grow.
Or if each other's wrongs ye still support,
With rapes and riot to profane my court;
What single arm with numbers can contend?
On me let all your lifted swords descend,
And with my life such vile dishonours end.
A long cessation of discourse ensu'd,
By gentler Agelaus thus renew'd.
A just reproof, ye Peers! your rage restrain
From the protected guest, and menial train:
And Prince! to stop the source of future ill,
Assent your self, and gain the royal will.
Whilst hope prevail'd to see your Sire restor'd,
Of right the Queen refus'd a second Lord:

38

But who so vain of faith, so blind to fate,
To think he still survives to claim the state?
Now press the sovereign Dame with warm desire
To wed, as wealth or worth her choice inspire:
The Lord selected to the nuptial joys,
Far hence will lead the long-contended prize:
Whilst in paternal pomp, with plenty blest,
You reign, of this imperial dome possest.
Sage and serene Telemachus replies;
By him at whose behest the thunder flies!
And by the name on earth I most revere,
By great Ulysses, and his woes I swear!
(Who never must review his dear domain;
Inroll'd, perhaps, in Pluto's dreary train.)

39

Whene'er her choice the royal Dame avows,
My bridal gifts shall load the future spouse:
But from this dome my Parent-Queen to chase!—
From me, ye Gods! avert such dire disgrace.
But Pallas clouds with intellectual gloom
The Suitors souls, insensate of their doom!
A mirthful phrenzy seiz'd the fated crow'd;
The roofs resound with causeless laughter loud:

40

Floating in gore, portentous to survey!
In each discolour'd vase the viands lay:

41

Then down each cheek the tears spontaneous flow,
And sudden sighs precede approaching woe.
In vision rap'd; the

Theoclymenus.

Hyperesian Seer

Up-rose, and thus divin'd the vengeance near.
O race to death devote! with Stygian shade
Each destin'd Peer impending Fates invade:
With tears your wan distorted cheeks are drown'd;
With sanguine drops the walls are rubied round:
Thick swarms the spacious hall with howling ghosts,
To people Orcus, and the burning coasts!
Nor gives the Sun his golden orb to rowl
But universal night usurps the pole!
Yet warn'd in vain, with laughter loud elate
The Peers reproach the sure Divine of Fate;
And thus Eurymachus: The dotard's mind
To ev'ry sense is lost, to reason blind:

42

Swift from the dome conduct the slave away;
Let him in open air behold the day.
Tax not, (the heav'n-illumin'd Seer rejoin'd)
Of rage, or folly, my prophetic mind,
No clouds of error dim th' etherial rays,
Her equal pow'r each faithful sense obeys.
Unguided hence my trembling steps I bend,
Far hence, before yon' hov'ring deaths descend;
Lest the ripe harvest of revenge begun,
I share the doom ye Suitors cannot shun.

43

This said, to sage Piræus sped the Seer,
His honour'd host, a welcome inmate there.
O'er the protracted feast the Suitors sit,
And aim to wound the Prince with pointless wit:
Cries one, with scornful leer and mimic voice,
Thy charity we praise, but not thy choice;
Why such profusion of indulgence shown
To this poor, tim'rous, toil-detesting drone?
That other feeds on planetary schemes,
And pays his host with hideous noon-day dreams.
But, Prince! for once at least believe a friend,
To some Sicilian mart these courtiers send,
Where, if they yield their freight across the main
Dear sell the slaves! demand no greater gain.

44

Thus jovial they; but nought the Prince replies;
Full on his Sire he rowl'd his ardent eyes;
Impatient strait to flesh his virgin-sword,
From the wise Chief he waits the deathful word.
Nigh in her bright alcove, the pensive Queen
To see the circle sat, of all unseen.
Sated at length they rise, and bid prepare
An eve-repast, with equal cost and care:

45

But vengeful Pallas with preventing speed
A feast proportion'd to their crimes decreed;
A feast of death! the feasters doom'd to bleed!
 

Eustathius expariates upon the conduct of these female servants of Penelope. Silence and a decent reserve (remarks that Author) is the ornament of the fair sex; levity and laughter betray them into an unguarded behaviour, and make them susceptible of wanton impressions. The Athenians, as Pausanias informs us, had a Temple sacred to Love and Venus the Whisperer. Venus was call'd the Whisperer (ψοθυρος) because they who there offer'd up their prayers apply'd their mouths to the ear of the statue of that Goddess, and whisper'd their petitions; an Intimation, that Women ought to govern their tongue, and not let it transgress either by loudness or loquacity. But this no ways affects the Ladies of Great Britain; they speak so well, they should never be silent.

Ulysses, Homer tells us, is almost provok'd to kill these females with his own hands: This has been imagin'd a thought unworthy an Heroe. The like objection has been made against Æneas in Virgil (Æneid; lib. 2. ver. 567.)

Thus, wand'ring in my way, without a guide,
The graceless Helen in the porch I spy'd
Of Vesta's temple: there she lurk'd alone,
Muffl'd she sate, and what she could, unknown;
Trembling with rage, the strumpet I regard,
Resolv'd to give her guilt the due reward.

This whole passage is said to have been expung'd from Virgil by Tucca and Varius; for as Virgil there expresses it,

'Tis true a soldier can small honour gain,
And boast no conquest from a woman slain.
Dryden.

But the Objection is probably made with too great severity, both against Homer and Virgil: It is no disgrace to the best or bravest man, to be subject to such passions as betray him into no unworthy actions: A Heroe is not suppos'd to be insensible; he distinguishes himself as such, if he restrains them within the bounds of reason. Both Æneas and Ulysses are fir'd with a just indignation, and this is agreeable to human nature; but both of them proceed to no outragious action, and this shews that their passions are govern'd by superior reason. However this resentment of Ulysses is less liable to objection than that of Æneas: Ulysses subdues his indignation by the reflection of his own reason; but Virgil introduces a Machine to compose the spirit of Æneas:

------ all shining heav'nly bright,
My mother stood reveal'd before my sight,
She held my hand, the destin'd blow to break, &c.

It may be further added that the case is very different between Æneas and Ulysses. The persons whom Ulysses intends to punish are his subjects and servants, and such a punishment would be no more than an act of justice, as he is their Master and King; and we find in the sequel of the Odyssey that he actually inflicts it. It should therefore be thought an instance of Homer's judgment, in painting the disorders of these servants in such strong colours, that we may acknowledge the justice, when he afterwards brings them to punishment.

This in the original is a very bold expression, but Homer, to soften it, instances a comparison which reconciles us to it. Ennius has literally translated it, as Spondanus observes:

------ animusque in pectore latrat.

That is word for word,

------ Κραδιν δε οι ενδον υλακτει.

The similitude it self is very expressive; as the mastiff barks to guard her young, so labours the soul of Ulysses in defence of his Son and Wife, Penelope and Telemachus. Dacier was afraid that the comparison could not be render'd with any beauty in the French tongue, and therefore has substituted another in the room of it, Son cœur rugissoit an dedans de luy, comme un Lion rugit autour d'une bergerie, où il ne sçauroit entrer. But however more noble the Lion may be than the Mastiff, it is evident that she utterly deviates from the allusion: The Mastiff rages in defence of her young, Ulysses of his Son Telemachus; but how is this represented by a Lion roaring round a fold, which he is not to defend, but destroy? We have therefore chosen to follow Homer in the more humble but more expressive similitude; and what will entirely reconcile us to it, is the great honour which was paid to Dogs by the Antients: they were kept as a piece of state by Princes and Heroes, and therefore a comparison drawn from them was held to be as noble as if it had been drawn from a Lion.

These two Verses are quoted by Plato in his Phædo, where he treats of the soul's immortality; He makes use of them to prove that Homer understood the soul to be uncompounded and distinct from the body. “If the soul, argues that Author, were a compounded substance, if it were harmony (as some philosophically assert) she would never act discordantly from the parts which compose it; but we see the contrary, we see the soul guide and govern the parts of which she her self is pretended to be composed; she resists, threatens and restrains our passions, our fears, avarice and anger: in short, the soul speaks to the body as to a substance of a nature entirely different from its own. Homer therefore evidently understood that the soul ought to govern and direct the passions, and that it is of a nature more divine than harmony.

This is undoubtedly very just reasoning: and there is an expression, observes Dacier, that bears the same import in the holy Scriptures: The heart of David smote him when he number'd the people. There is this difference; in Homer by heart is understood the corporeal substance, in the Scriptures the spiritual; but both make a manifest distinction between the soul and the body.

No passage in the whole Odyssey has fall'n under more ridicule than this comparison; Monsieur Perault is particularly severe upon it: Homer (says that Critic) compares Ulysses turning in his bed to a black-pudding broiling on a gridiron; whereas the truth is, he compares that Hero turning and tossing in his bed, burning with impatience to satisfy himself with the blood of the Suitors, to a man in sharp hunger preparing the entrails of a victim over a great fire; and the agitation represents the agitation of Ulysses. Homer compares not the thing, but the persons.

Boileau, in his notes upon Longinus, answers this objection. It is notorious that the belly of some animals was one of the most delicious dishes amongst the antients: that the sumex or sow's belly was boasted of for its excellence by the Romans, and forbidden by a sumptuary law as too voluptuous. Besides, the Greek word used to express a black-pudding was not invented in the days of Homer. Ogylby indeed thus renders it:

As one a pudding broiling on the coals.

But you will ask, Is not the allusion mean at best, and does it not convey a low image? Monsieur Dacier answers in the negative, in his notes upon Aristotles's Poetics. The comparison is borrow'd from sacrifices which yielded blood and fat, and was therefore so far from being despicable, that it was look'd upon with veneration by antiquity. Lib. 1. of the Iliad.

On these, in double cawls involv'd with art,
The choicest morsels lay from every part.

The Cawls and the choicest morsels were the fat of the Victim, selected as the best part of it, to be offered to the Gods. We may find that the thought was noble in the oriental language, for the Author of Ecclesiast. makes use of it, 47. 2. As in the fat taken from the peace-offering, so was David chosen out of the children of Israel. And the same allusion which was used to represent the worth and excellence of David, could be no degradation to Ulysses.

But what is understood by the belly of the beast, full of fat and blood? Boileau is of opinion that those words denote the fat and the blood which are in those parts of an animal naturally: but he is in an error, as appears evidently from these lines, lib. 18. of the Odyssey.

Γαστερες αι δ' αιγων κεατ' εν πυρι: τας δ' επι δορπω
Κατθεμεθα κνισσης τε και αιματος εμπλησαντες.

Implentes sanguine & pinguedine, in cœnâ deponamus; a demonstration that Homer intends not the natural fat and blood of the animal.

There is excellent reasoning in this: If a friend whom we know to be wise and powerful, advises us, we are ready to follow his instructions; the divine Being gives us his council, and we refuse it. Monsieur Dacier observes that Epictetus had this passage in his view, and beautify'd his morality with it. “The protection of a Prince or Potentate (says that Author) gives us full tranquillity, and banishes from us all uneasy apprehension. We have an all-powerful Being for our Protector, and for our Father; and yet the knowledge of it is not sufficient to drive away our fears, inquietudes and discontents.”

What Homer further puts into the mouth of the Goddess of Wisdom is consonant to sacred verity, and agrees with the language of the holy Scripture; Psalm xxvii. 3. Tho' an host of men were laid against me, yet shall not my Heart be afraid.

The Poet almost in every book mentions the destruction of the Suitors by the single hand of Ulysses, to reconcile us to it by degrees, that we may not be shock'd at the great Catastrophe of the Poem as incredible: It is particularly judicious to insist upon it in this place in a manner so solemn, to prepare us for the approaching event. If the destruction of the Suitors should appear humanly improbable by being ascribed solely to Ulysses, it is at least reconcileable to divine probability, and becomes credible thro' the Intervention of a Goddess.

I doubt not but the Reader will be pleas'd with the beauty of this soliloquy. There is an assemblage of tender images and moving complaints, and yet they are such as betray no meanness of spirit: The lamentation of Penelope is the lamentation of a Queen and Heroine; she mourns, but it is with dignity. The Poet makes a good use of her sorrows, and they excellently sustain her character of persevering to elude the addresses of the Suitors, when she wishes even to die rather than to yield to them.

But I confess the inserting so many particularities of the daughters of Pandarus, &c. greatly lessens the pathetic of this speech.

The antients (says Dacier) were persuaded that some persons were carried away by storms and whirlwinds. I would rather imagine such expressions to be entirely figurative and poetical; it is probable that what gave occasion to these fictions might be no more than the sudden deaths of some persons, and their disappearance was ascrib'd, in the language of Poetry, to storms and whirlwinds. The Orientals delighted in such bold figures. Job xxvii. 21. The east wind carrieth him away, and as a storm hurrieth him out of his place. And Isaiah xli. 16. The wind shall carry them away, and the whirlwind shall scatter them.

Monsieur Dacier observes upon this passage; Venus is said to feed these Infants with wine, milk, and honey; that is, she nursed them in their infancy, with plenty and abundance. For this is the import of the expression: a land flowing with milk and honey means a land of the greatest fertility, as is evident from the writings of Moses. So the prophet. Butter and honey shall he eat, till he knows how to refuse the evil and chuse the good; that is, till the age of discretion.

It may seem that Homer ascribes improper gifts to this Goddess; Wisdom is the portion of Minerva, Beauty of Venus, why then are they here ascrib'd to Juno? Spondanus calls this an insolvable difficulty. Dacier explains it by saying, that the beauty of Princesses is different from that of persons of an inferior station, their beauty consists in a majesty that is every way great and noble, and strikes with awe, very different from the little affectations and formal softnesses of inferior beauty; the former kind is the gift of Venus to the lower part of the fair sex, the latter is bestow'd on Princesses and Queens, by Juno the Regent of the skies.

It is not evident what is meant by these Princesses being carried away by the Harpies: Eustathius thinks that they wander'd from their own country, and fell into the power of cruel governesses, whose severities the Poet ascribes to the εριννυες, or Furies. Dacier imagines, that these two Princesses having seen the unhappy fate of their sister Aëdon (who was married to Zethus, and slew her own son) fear'd a like calamity; and dreading marriage, retir'd to some distant solitude, where never being heard of, it gave room for the fiction. It must be allow'd that the thought excellently agrees with the wishes of Penelope: These Princesses were taken away at the point of their marriage; Penelope believes herself to be in the same condition. and wishes to be lost rather than submit to second nuptials. This Speech has a further effect; we find Penelope reduc'd to the utmost exigency, she has no further subterfuge: the Poet therefore judiciously paints this exigency in the strongest colours, to shew the necessity of unravelling the intrigue of the Poem in the conclusion of the Odyssey.

This little circumstance is not without a good effect: it shews that the whole soul of Penelope was possess'd with the image of Ulysses. Homer adds, such as he was when he sail'd to Troy; which is inserted to take off our wonder that she should not discover him; this Ulysses in disguise is not like the Ulysses she formerly knew, and now delineates in her imagination. Eustathius.

This is the morning of the fortieth day; for part of the eighteenth book, and the whole nineteenth, and so far of the twentieth book, contain no more time than the evening of the thirty ninth day.

I was at a loss for an explication of this line, 'till I found it in Eustathius; for why should Ulysses imagine that Penelope knew him to be Ulysses, after a speech that express'd so much concern for his absence? Ulysses, having only heard the voice, not distinguish'd the words of her lamentation, mistakes the tears of Penelope for tears of joy; he suspects that the discovery is made by Euryclea or Telemachus; that they have told her the truth to give her comfort; and fears lest in the transport of her joy she should act something that would betray him to the Suitors, and prevent his designs: He therefore immediately withdraws, and makes a pray'r to Heav'n for a sign to re-assure his hopes, that he may proceed with confidence to their destruction.

The construction in the Greek is ungrammatical, for after Ξευ πατερ in the singular, the Poet immediately adds ει μ' εθελοντες in the plural number; τα λοιπα are imply'd, says Eustathius, so that θεοι is understood, which rectifies the construction.

The Reader will fully understand the import of this Prayer, from the nature of Omens, and the notions of them amongst the Antients: If, says Ulysses, my prayer is heard, let there be a voice from within the palace to certify me of it; and immediately a voice is heard, O Jupiter, may this day be the last to the Suitors! Such speeches as fell accidentally from any person were held ominous, and one of the antient ways of divination: Ulysses understands it as such, and accepts the Omen. It was in use among the Romans, as appears from Tully of divination, when P. Æmilius was going to war with Perseus King of the Macedonians, he found his little daughter in tears: O Father, says she, Perseus is dead! meaning her little dog named Perseus; Æmilius immediately reply'd, O Daughter I embrace the Omen, applying it to Perseus King of the Macedonians; who was afterwards conquer'd by him, and died a Captive in Rome. The same practice was us'd by the Hebrews, it was call'd Bath Kol; this is an instance of it: Two Rabbies desiring to see Samuel a Babylonish doctor, let us follow said they, the hearing of Bath Kol; travelling therefore near a school, they heard a boy reading these words out of Samuel xxv. 1. And Samuel died. They observ'd it, and found that their Friend was dead. The Sortes Virgilianæ afterwards were much of this kind.

The construction in the Greek is ungrammatical, for after Ξευ πατερ in the singular, the Poet immediately adds ει μ' εθελοντες in the plural number; τα λοιπα δαιμονια are imply'd, says Eustathius, so that θεοι is understood, which rectifies the construction.

The Reader will fully understand the import of this Prayer, from the nature of Omens, and the notions of them amongst the Antients: If, says Ulysses, my prayer is heard, let there be a voice from within the palace to certify me of it; and immediately a voice is heard, O Jupiter, may this day be the last to the Suitors! Such speeches as fell accidentally from any person were held ominous, and one of the antient ways of divination: Ulysses understands it as such, and accepts the Omen. It was in use among the Romans, as appears from Tully of divination, when P. Æmilius was going to war with Perseus King of the Macedonians, he found his little daughter in tears: O Father, says she, Perseus is dead! meaning her little dog named Perseus; Æmilius immediately reply'd, O Daughter I embrace the Omen, applying it to Perseus King of the Macedonians; who was afterwards conquer'd by him, and died a Captive in Rome. The same practice was us'd by the Hebrews, it was call'd Bath Kol; this is an instance of it: Two Rabbies desiring to see Samuel a Babylonish doctor, let us follow said they, the hearing of Bath Kol; travelling therefore near a school, they heard a boy reading these words out of Samuel xxv. 1. And Samuel died. They observ'd it, and found that their Friend was dead. The Sortes Virgilianæ afterwards were much of this kind.

It was this circumstance, of thunder bursting from a serene sky, that made it ominous: it was noted as such amongst the Romans in the books of the Augurs; and Horace brings it as a proof against the opinions of Epicurus.

------ Diespiter
Igni corusco nubila dividens,
Plerumque per purum tonantes
Egit equos, volucremque currum.

Virgil likewise speaks of thunder as ominous, when Anchises saw the lambent flame round the head of Iulus: He prays to Jupiter and immediately it thunders.

Vix ea fatus erat senior, subitoque fragore
Intonuit.

The Stoics drew an argument from thunder from a serene air against the Doctrines of Epicurus, who taught that the Gods had no regard of human affairs; for they concluded such thunder to be præter-natural, and an argument of a divine Providence.

This little particularity shews us the great profusion of the Suitors, who employ'd twelve mills to find them bread. There is a particular energy in the word επερρωοντο; it denotes the great labour and assiduity of these people in preparing the bread, and consequently the great waste of the Suitors. It likewise preserves a piece of antiquity, that Kings formerly had mills in their palaces to provide for their families, and that these mills were attended by women; I suppose because preparing bread was an houshold care, and therefore fell to the lot of female servants.

This speech of Telemachus may seem to be wanting in filial respect, as it appears to condemn the conduct of his mother: But (remarks Eustathius) the contrary is to be gathered from it. His blame is really a commendation; it shews that her affection was so great for Ulysses, that she receiv'd every vagrant honourably, who deceiv'd her with false news about him; and that other persons who brought no tydings of him, tho' men of greater worth, were less acceptable.

It was customary for Kings and Magistrates to go early every morning into the public assemblies, to distribute justice, and take care of public affairs: but this assembly contributing nothing to the action of the Odyssey, the Poet passes it over in a cursory manner, without any enlargement. Eustathius.

The table was not antiently cover'd with linen, but carefully cleans'd with wet sponges. Thus Arrian, αρον τας τραπεζας, σπογγισον: And Martial:

Hæc tibi sorte datur tergendis spongia mensis.

They made use of no napkins to wipe their hands, but the soft and fine part of the bread, which they called απομαγδαλιαι, which afterwards they threw to the dogs; this custom is mention'd in the Odyssey, lib. 10.

Ως δ' οταν αμφι ανακτα κυνες δαιτηθεν ιοντα
Σαινωσ', αι ει γαρ τε φερει μειλιγματα θυμου.
As from some feast a man returning late,
His faithful dogs all meet him at the gate,
Rejoicing round, some morsel to receive,
Such as the good man ever wont to give.

The morsel in the translation, and the μειλιγματα in the Greek, mean these pieces of bread, or απομαγδαλιαι, with which the Antients wip'd their hands after eating, and then threw to the dogs.

This was the last day of one month, and the first of the following: The Greek months were lunar, the first day of every month was a day of great solemnity; and it was consecrated to Apollo, the author and fountain of light. Ulysses had said, lib. 14. v. 186.

E're the next moon increase, or this decay,
His antient realms Ulysses shall survey;
In blood and dust each proud oppressor mourn.
Του μεν φθινοντος μηνος, του δ' ισταμενοιο.

This, says Solon in Plutarch, means that Ulysses shall return on the last day of the month precisely; and here we find it verify'd. Ulysses discovers himself upon this day, and kills the Suitors: By his return, in the foregoing period, is meant his discovery; for he was return'd when he made that assertion to Eumæus. It is therefore probable, that the above recited verse was rightly interpreted by Solon.

To understand this passage, it is necessary to remember that Melanthius and Philætius fed their flocks and herds in Cephalenia, an adjacent Island, under the dominion of Ulysses; but living in different parts of it, they are brought over in separate vessels, by different ferrymen, πορθμηες, as Homer expresses it.

This is the reasoning of Philætius: Kings are in a peculiar manner the care of the Gods; and if the Gods exempt not Kings from calamities, how can inferior persons (says Dacier) expect to be exempted, or complain in the day of adversity? But I persuade my self the words have a deeper sense, and mean Ulysses; “Well may vagrants suffer, when Kings, such as Ulysses, are not free from afflictions.

These words are to be ascribed to the excess of sorrow which Philætius feels for the sufferings of Ulysses; for they certainly transgress the bounds of reason. But if we consider the state of Theology in Homer's time, the sentence will appear less offensive; How can Jupiter (says Philætius) who is our father, throw his children into such an abyss of misery? Thou, oh Jove, hast made us, yet hast no compassion when we suffer.” It is no easy matter to answer this argument from the heathen Theology, and no wonder therefore if it confounds the reason of Philætius; but we who have certain hopes of a future state, can readily solve the difficulty: that state will be a time of retribution; it will amply recompense the good man for all his calamities, or as Milton expresses,

Will justify the ways of God to men.

It may be observ'd in general that this introduction of Philætius and his speech, so warm in the cause of Ulysses, is inserted here with admirable judgment; The Poet intends to make use of his assistance in the destruction of the Suitors; he therefore brings him in giving Ulysses full assurance of his fidelity; so that when that Heroe reveals himself to him, he does not depart from his cautious character, being before certify'd of his honesty.

I will only add that Philætius is not to be look'd upon as a common servant, but as an officer of state and dignity: and whatever has been said in these annotations concerning Eumæus may be apply'd to Philætius; he is here call'd ορχαμος ανδρων, a title of honour, and Ulysses promises to marry him into his own family in the sequel of the Odyssey; consequently he is a personage worthy to be an actor in Epic Poetry.

The words in the original are ιδιον ως ενοησα, and they are very differently explain'd by Dacier and Eustathius: ιδιον, τουτ' εστιν ιδροσα, ηγωνιασα, “I have sweated and been in an agony at the thought of the severe dispensations of Jupiter;” this is the interpretation of Eustathius. Dacier takes ιδιον to be an adjective, and then it must be connected with the preceding period.

Ουκ ελεαιρεις ανδρας, επην δη γεινεαι αυτος,
Μισγεμενααι κακοτητι, και αλγεσι λευγαλεοισι,
Ιδιον ως ενοησα.

Ut privatim, vel domestico admonitus sum exemplo, for so we may render ιδιον, meaning Ulysses; then the sense will be this; Jupiter, tho' thou hast made us, thou hast no compassion upon mankind, thou castest us into evils and misery; as I have learn'd by a private or domestic instance, namely in the person of Ulysses. If my judgment were of any weight, I should recommend this interpretation rather than that of Eustathius, which seems to be a forced one, and I remember no instance of this nature in Homer; but the preference is submitted to the Reader's decision.

It may be ask'd why Amphinomus gives this interpretation to the Prodigy? and why might not the Eagle denote the Suitors, and the Pigeon Telemachus? No doubt but such an interpretation would have been specious, but contrary to the rules of Augury. The Eagle is the King of birds, and must therefore of necessity denote the chief personage, and consequently could only be apply'd to Ulysses, or Telemachus. Amphinomus thus interprets it, and the Suitors acquiesce in his interpretation.

The Antients, says Eustathius, observe that this is the only place where the Suitors offer any Sacrifice throughout the whole Odyssey, and that there is no instance at all, that they make any prayer to the Gods. But is it evident from this place, that this is a Sacrifice? 'tis true the sacrificial term of ιερευον is mention'd; but perhaps that word may not denote a Sacrifice; for ιερεια, tho' it primarily signifies the flesh of animals offer'd to the Gods, yet in a less proper acceptation implies the flesh of all animals indifferently. Thus Athenæus, τροφην, την των νεογνων ιερειων, which must be render'd, the flesh of young animals. Thus, Lib. 7. ευσηπτοτερα τα νυκτωρ θυομενα ιερεια, the flesh of animals that are kill'd by night soonest putrify; and Galen uses ζων, and ιερειον, for an animal indiscriminately. The reason is, because originally no animal was ever slain but some part of it was offer'd to the Gods, and in this sense every ζων was ιερειον. If we consult the context in Homer, it must be allowed that there is no other word but ιερευον that distinguishes this from a common repast, thro' the whole description; and if that word will bear a remote signification, as ιερειον does, I should conclude, that this is no Sacrifice. Nay, if it should be found that ιερευον implies of necessity a religious act, yet it will not prove that this is more than a customary meal, since the Antients at all entertainments made Libations to the Gods; What may seem to strengthen this conjecture is that the Poet immediately adds, that the Greeks, Αχαιοι, sacrific'd in the grove of Apollo; without mentioning that the Suitors partook in the sacrifice: nay they seem to be feasting in the palace, while the Greeks are offering in the grove.

This circumstance is not inserted unnecessarily; the table is suitable to the disguise of Ulysses, and it might have created a jealousy in the Suitors if Telemachus had us'd him with greater distinction.

The Expression in Greek is remarkable:

------ μειδησε δε θυμω
Σαρδανιον (or Σαρδονιον

Some tells us that there is an herb frequent in the island of Sardinia, which by tasting distorts the muscles, that a man seems to laugh while he is under a painful agony; and from hence the Sardinian laugh became a Proverb, to signify a laugh which conceal'd an inward pain. Others refer the expression to an antient custom of the Sardinians (a colony of the Lacedemonians) it is pretended that upon a certain festival every year, they not only slew all their prisoners of war, but also all the old men that were above seventy, and oblig'd these miserable wretches to laugh while they underwent the severity of torment. Either of these reasons fully explains the meaning of the Σαρδονιος γελως; and shews it to denote an exterior laugh, and an inward pain. I am inclin'd to prefer the former interpretation, not only as it appears most natural, but because Virgil seems to understand it in that sense, for he alludes to the above-mention'd quality of the Sardinian Herbs, Eclogue 7. v. 41.

Immo ego Sardois videor tibi amarior herbis
------ deform'd like him who chaws
Sardinian herbage to contract his jaws.

The Reader may observe that Ctesippus breaks out into buffoonry, and the Suitors frequently are guilty of it in other parts of the Odyssey: These levities have been proscrib'd by the Critics as too low, and unworthy of Epic Poetry: but Homer adapts himself to his characters, he paints ridiculous, men in ridiculous colours; tho' I will not say but such characters are more proper for Comedy than Epic Poetry. If ever they are pardonable, they are in Homer, who puts these low pleasantries into the mouths of drunkards and debauchees; such persons being generally men of no worth or serious deportment.

It is observable that Telemachus swears by the sorrows of his father; an expression, in my judgment, very noble, and at the same time, fuil of a filial tenderness. This was an antient custom amongst the Orientals, as appears from an oath not unlike it in Genesis xxxi. 53. And Jacob sware by the fear of his father Isaac.

But how is this speech to be understood? for how can Telemachus persuade his mother to marry, when he knows that Ulysses is return'd? There is a conceal'd and an apparent meaning in the expression. Telemachus, observes Eustathius, swears that he will not hinder his mother from taking an husband, but he means Ulysses: the words therefore are ambiguous, and the ambiguity deceives the Suitors, who believe that by this oath Telemachus obliges himself not only not to hinder, but promote the intended nuptials.

It is in the Greek, They laugh'd with other mens cheeks. There are many explications of this passage: Eustathius imagines it to denote a feign'd and pretended laughter. Erasmus explains it, non libenter neque ex animo ridere, sed ita ridere quasi non tuis, sed alienis maxillis rideas. But if we consult the conduct of the Suitors, a contrary interpretation will seem to be necessary: for this laughter of the Suitors appears to be very real, and from the heart. Homer calls it ασβεστον excessive, inextinguish'd; and again, ηδυ γελασσαν, or they laugh'd with joy, suaviter riserunt; which expressions denote a real and unfeign'd laughter. But how will the words be brought to bear this construction? Very naturally: They laugh'd as if they had borrow'd their cheeks, as if their cheeks were not their own, and consequently they were not afraid to use them with licence and excess; (such persons as the Suitors having no regard for any thing that belongs to another.)

Horace makes use of the same expression,

Cum rapies in jus, malis ridentem alienis.

And likewise Valerius:

Errantesque genæ, atque alieno gaudia vultu.

This is the opinion of Dacier: But there are some lines in the Greek that make it doubtful; for immediately after the expression of laughing with other mens cheeks, Homer adds, that their eyes flow'd with tears, and sorrow seiz'd their Souls. 'Tis true, Homer describes the Suitors under an alienation of mind, and a sudden distraction occasion'd by Minerva; and from hence we may gather the reason why they are tost by so sudden a transition to contrary passions, from laughter to tears; this moment they laugh extravagantly, and the next they weep with equal excess: persons in such a condition being liable to such vicissitudes.

This is to be look'd upon as a prodigy, the belief of which was established in the old world, and consequently, whether true or false, may be allow'd to have a place in Poetry. See Book XII Annot. 32.

In the following speech of Theoclymenus there is a beautiful enthusiasm of Poetry; but how are we to understand that Theoclymenus sees these wonders, when they are invisible to all the Suitors? Theoclymenus was a Prophet, and speaks of things future as present; it is the eye of the Prophet that sees these events, and the language of prophecy that speaks of them as present. Thus when he says he sees the palace red with blood, and throng'd with ghosts; he anticipates the event, which is verify'd in the approaching death of the Suitors.

Eustathius is of opinion that by the last words of this speech Theoclymenus intends to express an Eclipse of the sun; this being the day of the new moon, when eclipses happen. Others understand by it the death of the Suitors, as when we say the sun is forever gone down upon the dead: Theocritus uses that expression, θνησκοντι παντα δεδυκειν ηλιον. Homer means by it, that the Suitors shall never more behold the light of the sun.

------ ηελιος δε
Ουρανου εξαπολωλε ------

So far Eustathius. It may be added that the Roman Poets used the same expression in this latter signification. Thus Catullus.

Nobis, quùm semel occidit brevis lux,
Nox est perpetua una dormienda,

Either of these expositions makes the passage intelligible.

The Suitors taking the prediction of Theoclymenus literally, viz. I see you all involv'd in darkness, think him distracted, not conceiving his words to be a prophecy; and therefore by way of derision command him to be carry'd into a place of publick resort, that he may convince himself it is full day. Eustathius imagines, they intended to reproach him with drunkenness, because it makes all objects appear indistinct and different from the reality: He quotes a pleasant expression of Anacharsis to this purpose: A certain person telling him at an entertainment that he had married a very ugly woman; I think so too, replies Anacharsis; but fill me a Bumper, that I may make her a beauty.

Eustathius explains the answer of Theoclymenus to be both pleasant and serious: “I have eyes, and therefore have no occasion for a guide to lead me from the palace; I have ears, and therefore hear that my absence is desir'd; I have both my feet, and therefore am able to go away without giving others the trouble to assist me; and I have an understanding well inform'd, by which I see the evil that threatens the Suitors, and haste away to avoid it.

It is evident from this passage that the name of Sicily is very antient, and Eustathius makes the following remark upon it: That the reason why the Poet never mentions this word in describing the wandrings of Ulysses which happen chiefly near Sicily, is to make his Poetry more surprising and marvellous; and that the more to countenance those fabulous relations and miracles which he has told to the Pheacians, he chuses to speak of it by names less known, and less familiar to his Readers. Dacier observes from Bochart, that this island received the name of Sicily from the Phœnicians, long before the birth of Homer, or the war of Troy: Siclul in their language signifies perfection; they call'd it the Isle of perfection, because it held the chief rank amongst all the islands in the Mediterranean: “It is the largest and best island in all our seas,” says Strabo. It has likewise been thought to have taken its name from the Syrian language, namely from Segol, or Segul, a Raisin. For long before the vine was known in Afric, Sicily was famous for its Vineyards, and from thence the Carthaginians imported their raisins and wines. Homer celebrates this island for its vines in the 9th Odyssey.

Spontaneous wines from weighty clusters pour,
And Jove descends in each prolific show'r.

It is likewise probable from this passage, that the Sicilians traded in slaves; for their lands were fertil, and they merchandiz'd for them to manure the ground. I should rather think that they were remarkable for their barbarity to their slaves; the Suitors speaking by way of terror to intimidate Theoclymenus; and the expression seems to bear the same import with that concerning Echetus, we will send him to Echetus, or the Sicilians, who will use him with the utmost cruelty.

The word in the original is διφρος, and signifies a large seat that would hold two persons, from δις φερειν.

This circumstance (observes Eustathius) is not inserted in vain: the Poet describes Penelope thus seated, that she might see and hear the actions and designs of the Suitors, in order to form her conduct according to the occasion: Now for instance, she perceives their insolence risen to such an height, that she dares make no further delay, but immediately proclaims herself the prize of the best Archer: And this naturally connects the story with the next book.