University of Virginia Library



THE SECOND BOOK OF THE ODYSSEY.


50

The ARGUMENT. The Council of Ithaca.

Telemachus, in the assembly of the Lords of Ithaca, complains of the injustice done him by the Suitors, and insists upon their departure from his Palace; appealing to the Princes, and exciting the people to declare against them. The Suitors endeavour to justify their stay, at least till he shall send the Queen to the Court of Icarius her father; which he refuses. There appears a prodigy of two Eagles in the sky, which an Augur expounds to the ruin of the Suitors. Telemachus then demands a Vessel to carry him to Pylos and Sparta, there to enquire of his father's fortunes. Pallas in the shape of Mentor (an ancient friend of Ulysses) helps him to a ship, assists him in preparing necessaries for the voyage, and embarks with him that night; which concludes the second day from the Opening of the Poem.

The SCENE continues in the Palace of Ulysses in Ithaca.


53

Now red'ning from the dawn, the Morning ray
Glow'd in the front of Heav'n, and gave the Day.
The youthful Heroe, with returning light,
Rose anxious from th'inquietudes of Night.

54

A royal robe he wore with graceful pride,
A two-edg'd faulchion threaten'd by his side,
Embroider'd sandals glitter'd as he trod,
And forth he mov'd, majestic as a God.
Then by his Heralds, restless of delay,
To council calls the Peers: the Peers obey.
Soon as in solemn form th'assembly sate,
From his high dome himself descends in state.
Bright in his hand a pond'rous javelin shin'd;
Two Dogs, a faithful guard, attend behind;

55

Pallas with grace divine his form improves,
And gazing crowds admire him as he moves.
His Father's throne he fill'd: while distant stood
The hoary Peers, and Aged Wisdom bow'd.
'Twas silence all, at last Ægyptius spoke;
Ægyptius, by his age and sorrows broke:
A length of days his soul with prudence crown'd,
A length of days had bent him to the Ground.
His eldest

Antiphus.

hope in arms to Ilion came,

By great Ulysses taught the path to fame;
But (hapless youth) the hideous Cyclops tore
His quiv'ring limbs, and quaff'd his spouting gore.

56

Three sons remain'd: To climb with haughty fires
The royal bed, Eurynomus aspires;
The rest with duteous love his griefs asswage,
And ease the Sire of half the cares of age.
Yet still his Antiphus he loves, he mourns,
And as he stood, he spoke and wept by turns.
Since great Ulysses sought the Phrygian plains,
Within these walls inglorious silence reigns.

57

Say then, ye Peers! by whose commands we meet?
Why here once more in solemn council fit?
Ye young, ye old, the weighty cause disclose:
Arrives some message of invading foes?
Or say, does high necessity of state
Inspire some Patriot, and demand debate!
The present Synod speaks its author wise;
Assist him, Jove! thou regent of the skies!
He spoke. Telemachus with transport glows,
Embrac'd the omen, and majestic rose:
(His royal hand th'imperial scepter sway'd)
Then thus, addressing to Ægyptius, said.
Rev'rend old man! lo here confest he stands
By whom ye meet; my grief your care demands.
No story I unfold of publick woes,
Nor bear advices of impending foes:
Peace the blest land, and joys incessant crown;
Of all this happy realm, I grieve alone.

58

For my lost Sire continual sorrows spring,
The great, the good; your Father, and your King.
Yet more; our house from its foundation bows,
Our foes are pow'rful, and your sons the foes:
Hither, unwelcome to the Queen they come;
Why seek they not the rich Icarian dome?
If she must wed, from other hands require
The dowry; Is Telemachus her Sire?
Yet thro' my court the noise of Revel rings,
And wastes the wise frugality of Kings.

59

Scarce all my herds their luxury suffice;
Scarce all my wine their midnight hours supplies.
Safe in my youth, in riot still they grow,
Nor in the helpless Orphan dread a foe.
But come it will, the time when manhood grants
More pow'rful advocates than vain complaints.
Approach that hour! unsufferable wrong
Cries to the Gods, and vengeance sleeps too long.
Rise then, ye Peers! with virtuous anger rise!
Your fame revere, but most th'avenging skies.
By all the deathless pow'rs that reign above,
By righteous Themis and by thund'ring Jove,

60

(Themis, who gives to councils, or denies
Success; and humbles, or confirms the wise)
Rise in my aid! suffice the tears that flow
For my lost Sire, nor add new woe to woe.
If e'er he bore the sword to strengthen ill,
Or having pow'r to wrong, betray'd the will;
On me, on me your kindled wrath asswage,
And bid the voice of lawless riot rage.
If ruin to our royal race ye doom,
Be You the spoilers, and our wealth consume.

61

Then might we hope redress from juster laws,
And raise all Ithaca to aid our cause:
But while your Sons commit th'unpunish'd wrong,
You make the Arm of Violence too strong.
While thus he spoke, with rage and grief he frown'd,
And dash'd th'imperial sceptre to the ground.
The big round tear hung trembling in his eye:
The Synod griev'd, and gave a pitying sigh,
Then silent sate—at length Antinous burns
With haughty rage, and sternly thus returns.
O insolence of youth! whose tongue affords
Such railing eloquence, and war of words.

62

Studious thy country's worthies to defame,
Thy erring voice displays thy Mother's shame.
Elusive of the bridal day, she gives
Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives.
Did not the sun, thro' heav'n's wide azure roll'd,
For three long years the royal fraud behold?
While she, laborious in delusion, spread
The spacious loom, and mix'd the various thread:
Where as to life the wond'rous figures rise,
Thus spoke th'inventive Queen, with artful sighs.

63

“Tho' cold in death Ulysses breathes no more,
“Cease yet a while to urge the bridal hour;
“Cease, 'till to great Laertes I bequeath
“A task of grief, his ornaments of death.
“Lest when the Fates his royal ashes claim,
“The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame;
“When he, whom living mighty realms obey'd,
“Shall want in death a shroud to grace his shade.
Thus she: at once the gen'rous train complies,
Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue's fair disguise.
The work she ply'd; but studious of delay,
By night revers'd the labours of the day.
While thrice the sun his annual journey made,
The conscious lamp the midnight fraud survey'd;
Unheard, unseen, three years her arts prevail;
The fourth, her maid unfolds th'amazing tale.

64

We saw, as unperceiv'd we took our stand,
The backward labours of her faithless hand.
Then urg'd, she perfects her illustrious toils;
A wond'rous monument of female wiles!
But you, oh Peers! and thou, oh Prince! give ear:
(I speak aloud, that ev'ry Greek may hear)
Dismiss the Queen; and if her sire approves,
Let him espouse her to the Peer she loves:
Bid instant to prepare the bridal train,
Nor let a race of Princes wait in vain.
Tho' with a grace divine her soul is blest,
And all Minerva breathes within her breast,
In wond'rous arts than woman more renown'd,
And more than woman with deep wisdom crown'd;
Tho' Tyro nor Mycene match her Name,
Nor great Alcmena, (the proud boasts of Fame)
Yet thus by heav'n adorn'd, by heav'n's decree
She shines with fatal excellence, to thee:
With thee, the bowl we drain, indulge the feast,
'Till righteous heav'n reclaim her stubborn breast.

65

What tho' from pole to pole resounds her name!
The son's destruction waits the mother's fame:
For 'till she leaves thy court, it is decreed,
Thy bowl to empty, and thy flock to bleed.
While yet he speaks, Telemachus replies.
Ev'n Nature starts, and what ye ask denies.

66

Thus, shall I thus repay a mother's cares,
Who gave me life, and nurs'd my infant years?
While sad on foreign shores Ulysses treads,
Or glides a ghost with unapparent shades,
How to Icarius in the bridal hour
Shall I, by waste undone, refund the dow'r?
How from my father should I vengeance dread?
How would my mother curse my hated head?
And while in wrath to vengeful Fiends she cries,
How from their hell would vengeful Fiends arise?

67

Abhorr'd by all, accurs'd my name would grow,
The earth's disgrace, and Humankind my foe.
If this displease, why urge ye here your stay?
Haste from the court, ye spoilers, haste away:
Waste in wild riot what your land allows,
There ply the early feast, and late carouse.
But if, to honour lost, 'tis still decreed
For you my bowl shall flow, my flocks shall bleed;
Judge and assert my right, impartial Jove!
By him, and all th'immortal host above,
(A sacred oath) if heav'n the pow'r supply,
Vengeance I vow, and for your wrongs ye die.

68

With that, two Eagles from a mountain's height
By Jove's command direct their rapid flight;
Swift they descend, with wing to wing conjoin'd,
Stretch their broad plumes, and float upon the wind.
Above th'assembled Peers they wheel on high,
And clang their wings, and hovering beat the sky;
With ardent eyes the rival train they threat,
And shrieking loud, denounce approaching fate.
They cuff, they tear; their cheeks and necks they rend,
And from their plumes huge drops of blood descend:
Then sailing o'er the domes and tow'rs they fly,
Full tow'rd the East, and mount into the sky.

69

The wond'ring Rivals gaze with cares opprest,
And chilling horrours freeze in every breast.
Till big with knowledge of approaching woes
The Prince of Augurs, Halitherses, rose:
Prescient he view'd th'aerial tracts, and drew
A sure presage from ev'ry wing that flew.
Ye sons (he cry'd) of Ithaca give ear,
Hear all! but chiefly you, oh Rivals! hear.
Destruction sure o'er all your heads impends;
Ulysses comes, and death his steps attends.
Nor to the Great alone is death decreed;
We, and our guilty Ithaca must bleed.
Why cease we then the wrath of heav'n to stay?
Be humbled all, and lead, ye Great! the way.
For lo! my words no fancy'd woes relate:
I speak from science, and the voice is Fate.
When great Ulysses sought the Phrygian shores
To shake with war proud Ilion's lofty tow'rs,
Deeds then undone my faithful tongue foretold;
Heav'n seal'd my words, and you those deeds behold.
I see (I cry'd) his woes, a countless train;
I see his friends o'erwhelm'd beneath the main;

70

How twice ten years from shore to shore he roams;
Now twice ten years are past, and now he comes!
To whom Eurymachus—Fly Dotard, fly!
With thy wise dreams, and fables of the sky.
Go prophesy at home; thy sons advise:
Here thou art sage in vain—I better read the skies.
Unnumber'd Birds glide thro' th'aerial way,
Vagrants of air, and unforeboding stray.
Cold in the tomb, or in the deeps below
Ulysses lies: oh wert thou laid as low!
Then would that busy head no broils suggest,
Nor fire to rage Telemachus's breast.

71

From him some bribe thy venal tongue requires,
And Int'rest, not the God, thy voice inspires.
His guide-less youth, if thy experienc'd age
Mislead fallacious into idle rage,
Vengeance deserv'd thy malice shall repress,
And but augment the wrongs thou would'st redress.
Telemachus may bid the Queen repair
To great Icarius, whose paternal care
Will guide her passion, and reward her choice,
With wealthy dow'r, and bridal gifts of price.
'Till she retires, determin'd we remain,
And both the Prince and Augur threat in vain:
His pride of words, and thy wild dream of fate,
Move not the brave, or only move their hate.
Threat on, oh Prince! elude the bridal day,
Threat on, 'till all thy stores in waste decay.
True, Greece affords a train of lovely dames,
In wealth and beauty worthy of our flames:
But never from this nobler suit we cease;
For wealth and beauty less than virtue please.
To whom the Youth. Since then in vain I tell
My num'rous woes, in silence let them dwell.

72

But heav'n, and all the Greeks, have heard my wrongs:
To heav'n, and all the Greeks, redress belongs.
Yet this I ask (nor be it ask'd in vain)
A bark to waft me o'er the rolling main;
The realms of Pyle and Sparta to explore,
And seek my royal sire from shore to shore:
If, or to Fame his doubtful fate be known,
Or to be learn'd from Oracles alone?
If yet he lives, with patience I forbear
'Till the fleet hours restore the circling year;
But if already wand'ring in the train
Of empty shades, I measure back the main;
Plant the fair column o'er the mighty dead,
And yield his consort to the nuptial bed.

73

He ceas'd; and while abash'd the Peers attend,
Mentor arose, Ulysses' faithful friend:
[When fierce in arms he sought the scenes of war,
“My friend (he cry'd) my palace be thy care;
“Years roll'd on years my god-like sire decay,
“Guard thou his age, and his behests obey.]
Stern as he rose, he cast his eyes around
That flash'd with rage; and as he spoke, he frown'd.
O never, never more! let King be just,
Be mild in pow'r, or faithful to his trust!
Let Tyrants govern with an iron rod,
Oppress, destroy, and be the scourge of God;

74

Since he who like a father held his rein,
So soon forgot, was just and mild in vain!
True, while my friend is griev'd, his griefs I share;
Yet now the Rivals are my smallest care:
They, for the mighty mischiefs they devise,
Ere long shall pay—their forfeit lives the price.
But against you, ye Greeks! ye coward train,
Gods! how my soul is mov'd with just disdain?
Dumb ye all stand, and not one tongue affords
His injur'd Prince the little aid of words.
While yet he spoke, Leocritus rejoyn'd:
O pride of words, and arrogance of mind!
Would'st thou to rise in arms the Greeks advise?
Join all your pow'rs! in arms, ye Greeks, arise!
Yet would your pow'rs in vain our strength oppose;
The valiant few o'ermatch an host of foes.
Should great Ulysses stern appear in arms,
While the bowl circles, and the banquet warms;

75

Tho' to his breast his spouse with transport flies,
Torn from her breast, that hour, Ulysses dies.
But hence retreating to your domes repair;
To arm the vessel, Mentor! be thy care,
And Halitherses! thine: be each his friend;
Ye lov'd the father: go, the son attend.
But yet, I trust, the boaster means to stay
Safe in the court, nor tempt the wat'ry way.
Then, with a rushing sound, th'Assembly bend
Diverse their steps: the rival rout ascend
The royal dome; while sad the Prince explores
The neighb'ring main, and sorrowing treads the shores.

76

There, as the waters o'er his hands he shed,
The royal suppliant to Minerva pray'd,
O Goddess! who descending from the skies
Vouchsaf'd thy presence to my wond'ring eyes,
By whose commands the raging deeps I trace,
And seek my sire thro' storms and rolling seas!
Hear from thy heav'ns above, oh warrior-maid!
Descend once more, propitious to my aid.
Without thy presence vain is thy command;
Greece, and the rival train thy voice withstand.
Indulgent to his pray'r, the Goddess took
Sage Mentor's form, and thus like Mentor spoke.
O Prince, in early youth divinely wise,
Born, the Ulysses of thy age to rise!
If to the son the father's worth descends,
O'er the wide waves success thy ways attends:

77

To tread the walks of death he stood prepar'd,
And what he greatly thought, he nobly dar'd.
Were not wise sons descendant of the wise,
And did not Heroes from brave Heroes rise,
Vain were my hopes: few sons attain the praise
Of their great sires, and most their sires disgrace.
But since thy veins paternal virtue fires,
And all Penelope thy soul inspires,
Go, and succeed! the rival's aims despise;
For never, never, wicked man was wise.
Blind they rejoice, tho' now, ev'n now they fall;
Death hastes amain: one hour o'erwhelms them all!
And lo, with speed we plow the wat'ry way;
My pow'r shall guard thee, and my hand convey:
The winged vessel studious I prepare,
Thro' seas and realms companion of thy care.
Thou to the court ascend; and to the shores
(When night advances) bear the naval stores;
Bread, that decaying man with strength supplies,
And gen'rous wine, which thoughtful sorrow flies.
Mean-while the Mariners by my command
Shall speed aboard, a valiant chosen band.
Wide o'er the bay, by vessel vessel rides;
The best I chuse, to waft thee o'er the tides.

78

She spoke: to his high dome the Prince returns,
And as he moves, with royal anguish mourns.
'Twas riot all, among the lawless train;
Boar bled by boar, and goat by goat lay slain.
Arriv'd, his hand the gay Antinous prest,
And thus deriding, with a smile addrest.
Grieve not, oh daring Prince! that noble heart:
Ill suits gay youth the stern heroic part.
Indulge the genial hour, unbend thy soul,
Leave thought to Age, and drain the flowing bowl.
Studious to ease thy grief, our care provides
The bark, to waft thee o'er the swelling tides.
Is this (returns the Prince) for mirth a time?
When lawless gluttons riot, mirth's a crime;

79

The luscious wines dishonour'd lose their taste,
The song is noise, and impious is the feast.
Suffice it to have spent with swift decay
The wealth of Kings, and made my youth a prey.
But now the wise instructions of the sage,
And manly thoughts inspir'd by manly age,
Teach me to feek redress for all my woe,
Here, or in Pyle.—in Pyle or here, your foe.
Deny your vessels; ye deny in vain;
A private voyager I pass the main.
Free breathe the winds, and free the billows flow,
And where on earth I live, I live your foe.
He spoke and frown'd, nor longer deign'd to stay,
Sternly his hand withdrew, and strode away.
Mean time, o'er all the dome, they quaff, they feast,
Derisive taunts were spread from guest to guest,
And each in jovial mood his mate addrest.
Tremble ye not, oh friends! and coward fly,
Doom'd by the stern Telemachus to dye?
To Pyle or Sparta to demand supplies,
Big with revenge, the mighty warrior flies:

80

Or comes from Ephyré with poisons fraught,
And kills us all in one tremendous draught?
Or who can say (his gamesome mate replies)
But while the dangers of the deeps he tries,
He, like his sire, may sink depriv'd of breath,
And punish us unkindly by his death?
What mighty labours would he then create,
To seize his treasures, and divide his state,
The royal Palace to the Queen convey,
Or him she blesses in the bridal day!
Mean-time the lofty rooms the Prince surveys,
Where lay the treasures of th'Ithacian race:

81

Here ruddy brass and gold refulgent blaz'd;
There polish'd chests embroider'd vestures grac'd;
Here jars of oil breath'd forth a rich perfume;
There casks of wine in rows adorn'd the dome.
(Pure flav'rous wine, by Gods in bounty giv'n,
And worthy to exalt the feasts of heav'n.)
Untouch'd they stood, 'till his long labours o'er
The great Ulysses reach'd his native shore.
A double strength of bars secur'd the gates:
Fast by the door the wise Euryclea waits;
Euryclea, who, great Ops! thy lineage shar'd,
And watch'd all night, all day; a faithful guard.

82

To whom the Prince. O thou, whose guardian care
Nurs'd the most wretched King that breathes the air!
Untouch'd and sacred may these vessels stand,
'Till great Ulysses views his native land.
But by thy care twelve urns of wine be fill'd;
Next these in worth, and firm those urns be seal'd;
And twice ten measures of the choicest flour
Prepar'd, ere yet descends the evening hour.
For when the fav'ring shades of night arise,
And peaceful slumbers close my mother's eyes,
Me from our coast shall spreading sails convey,
To seek Ulysses thro' the wat'ry way.
While yet he spoke, she fill'd the walls with cries,
And tears ran trickling from her aged eyes.
Oh whither, whither flies my son? she cry'd,
To realms, that rocks and roaring seas divide?

83

In foreign lands thy father's days decay'd,
And foreign lands contain the mighty dead.
The wat'ry way ill-fated if thou try,
All, all must perish, and by fraud you die!
Then stay, my child! storms beat, and rolls the main;
Oh beat those storms, and roll the seas in vain!
Far hence (reply'd the Prince) thy fears be driv'n:
Heav'n calls me forth; these counsels are of heav'n.
But by the pow'rs that hate the perjur'd, swear,
To keep my voyage from the royal ear,
Nor uncompell'd the dang'rous truth betray,
Till twice six times descends the lamp of day:
Lest the sad tale a mother's life impair,
And grief destroy what time a while would spare.
Thus he. The matron with uplifted eyes
Attests th'all-seeing Sovereign of the skies.

84

Then studious she prepares the choicest flour,
The strength of wheat, and wines, an ample store.
While to the rival train the Prince returns,
The martial Goddess with impatience burns;
Like thee, Telemachus, in voice and size,
With speed divine from street to street she flies,
She bids the Mariners prepar'd to stand,
When Night descends, embodied on the strand.
Then to Noemon swift she runs, she flies,
And asks a bark: the chief a bark supplies.
And now, declining with his sloping wheels,
Down sunk the Sun behind the western hills.
The Goddess shov'd the vessel from the shores,
And stow'd within its womb the naval stores.

85

Full in the openings of the spacious main
It rides; and now descends the sailor train.
Next, to the court, impatient of delay
With rapid step the Goddess urg'd her way:
There ev'ry eye with slumbrous chains she bound,
And dash'd the flowing goblet to the ground.
Drowzy they rose, with heavy fumes opprest,
Reel'd from the palace, and retir'd to rest.
Then thus, in Mentor's rev'rend form array'd,
Spoke to Telemachus the martial Maid.
Lo! on the seas prepar'd the vessel stands;
Th'impatient mariner thy speed demands,
Swift as she spoke, with rapid pace she leads.
The footsteps of the Deity he treads.

86

Swift to the shore they move: Along the strand
The ready vessel rides, the sailors ready stand.
He bids them bring their stores: th'attending train
Load the tall bark, and launch into the main.
The Prince and Goddess to the stern ascend;
To the strong stroke at once the rowers bend.
Full from the West she bids fresh breezes blow;
The sable billows foam and roar below.
The Chief his orders gives; th'obedient band
With due observance wait the chief's command;
With speed the mast they rear, with speed unbind
The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind.
High o'er the roaring waves the spreading sails
Bow the tall mast, and swell before the gales;
The crooked keel the parting surge divides,
And to the stern retreating roll the tides.

87

And now they ship their oars, and crown with wine
The holy Goblet to the pow'rs divine:
Imploring all the Gods that reign above,
But chief, the blue-ey'd Progeny of Jove.
Thus all the night they stem the liquid way,
And end their voyage with the morning ray.
 

This book opens with the first appearance of Telemachus upon the stage of action. And Bossu observes the great judgment of the Poet, in beginning with the transactions of Ithaca in the absence of Ulysses: By this method he sets the conduct of Telemachus, Penelope, and the Suitors, in a strong point of light; they all have a large share in the story of the Poem, and consequently ought to have distinguishing characters. It is as necessary in Epic Poetry, as it is on the Theatre, to let us immediately into the character of every person whom the Poet introduces: This adds perspicuity to the story, and we immediately grow acquainted with each personage, and interest our selves in the good or ill fortune that attends them thro' the whole relation.

Telemachus is now about twenty years of age: In the eleventh book, the Poet tells us, he was an infant in the arms of his mother when Ulysses sail'd to Troy; that Heroe was absent near twenty years, and from hence we may gather the exact age of Telemachus. He is every where describ'd as a person of piety to the Gods, of duty to his parents, and as a lover of his country: he is prudent, temperate, and valiant: and the Poet well sets off the importance of this young Heroe, by giving him the Goddess of War and Wisdom for his constant attendant.

The Poet describes Telemachus as if he were marching against an enemy, or going to a council of war, rather than to an assembly of Peers in his own country: Two reasons are assign'd for this conduct; either this was the common usage of Princes in those times, or Telemachus might look upon the Suitors as enemies and consequently go to council in arms as against enemies. Eustathius.

This passage has not escap'd the raillery of the Critics; they look upon it as a mean description of a Heroe and a Prince, to give him a brace of dogs only for his guards or attendants: But such was the simplicity of ancient Princes, that except in war they had rarely any attendants or equipage. And we may be confident, Homer copies after the custom of the time, unless we can be so absurd as to suppose, he would feign low circumstances unnecessarily, thro' a want of judgment.

Virgil judg'd otherwise, and thought this circumstance worthy of his imitation.

Quin etiam gemini custodes limine ab alto
Procedunt, gressumque canes comitantur Herilem.

Achilles is describ'd in the Iliad with the same attendants.

------ nine large dogs domestick at his board.

Poetry, observes Dacier, is like Painting, which draws the greatest beauties from the simplest customs: and even in history, we receive a sensible pleasure from the least circumstance that denotes the customs of ancient times. It may be added, that the Poet, as well as the Painter, is obliged to follow the customs of the age of which he writes, or paints: a modern dress would ill become Achilles or Ulysses, such a conduct would be condemned as an absurdity in painting, and ought to be so in poetry.

Homer, says Eustathius, inserts these particularities concerning the family of Ægyptius, to give an air of truth to his story. It does not appear that Ægyptius knew the certainty of the death of Antiphus; (for it is the Poet who relates it, and not the father;) whence, as Dacier observes, should he learn it? he only laments him, according to the prevailing opinion that all the companions of Ulysses were lost with Ulysses.

We are here told, that there never had been any council conven'd in Ithaca, since the departure of Ulysses. The general design and moral of the Odyssey, is to inform us of the mischievous effects which the Absence of a King and Father of a Family produces: We deprive, as Bossu observes, the Poem of its very soul, and spoil the Fable, if we retrench from it the disorders which the Suitors create in the absence of Ulysses, both in his family and dominions. Nothing can give us a greater image of those disorders, than what is here related: What must a kingdom suffer in twenty years, without a Ruler, without a Council to make Laws or punish enormities? Such is the condition of Ithaca: Laertes is superannuated; Penelope oppress'd by the violence of the Suitors; and Telemachus to this time, in his minority.

It is very artful in the Poet to open the assembly by Ægyptius: Telemachus was the person who conven'd it; and being the greatest personage present, it might be expected that he should open the design of it: But to give Telemachus courage, who was young and inexperienc'd, Ægyptius first rises, and by praising the person who had summon'd them (of whom he seems ignorant) gives Telemachus to understand he has friends among the assembly: This he could no other way so safely have done, considering the power of the Suitors. By this means, Telemachus is encouraged to speak boldly, and arraign the disorders of the Suitors with the utmost freedom.

Telemachus here sets the character of Ulysses, as a King, in the most agreeable point of light: He rul'd his people with the same mildness as a father rules his children. This must needs have a very happy effect upon the audience; not only as it shews Ulysses to have been a good Governour; but as it recalls the memory of the happiness they receiv'd from that mild government, and obliquely condemns them of ingratitude who had forgot it. By this method also the Poet interests us deeply in the sufferings of Ulysses; we cannot see a good man and good King in distress, without the most tender emotions.

What Telemachus here says has given offence to the Critics; they think it indecent for a son to say, that he bears with more regret the disorder of his family than the loss of his father; yet this objection will vanish, if we weigh Penelope, Telemachus, and his whole posterity, against the single person of Ulysses.

But what chiefly takes away this objection is, that Telemachus was still in hopes of his father's return: for απωλεσα does not imply necessarily his death, but absence: and then both with justice and decency, Telemachus may say that he grieves more for the destruction of his family, than for the absence of Ulysses.

This passage is ridicul'd by the Critics; they set it in a wrong light, and then grow very pleasant upon it: Telemachus makes a sad outcry because the Suitors eat his sheep, his beeves, and fatted goats; and at last falls into tears. The truth is, the riches of Kings and Princes, in those early ages, consisted chiefly in flocks and cattle; thus Æneas and Paris are describ'd as tending their flocks, &c. and Abraham in the scriptures, as abounding in this kind of wealth.

These Critics would form a different idea of the state and condition of Telemachus, if they consider'd that he had been capable to maintain no fewer than an hundred and eight persons in a manner very expensive for many years; for so many (with their attendants) were the Suitors, as appears from the 16th book; and at the same time he kept up the dignity of his own court, and liv'd with great hospitality.

But it is a sufficient answer to the objections against this passage, to observe, that it is not the expence, but manner of it, that Telemachus laments: This he expressly declares by the word μαψιδιως; and surely a sober man may complain against luxury, without being arraigned of meanness; and against profusion, without being condemned for parsimony.

Eustathius observes, that there was a custom to carry the statue of Themis to the assemblies in former ages, and carry it back again when those assemblies were dissolv'd; and thus Themis may be said to form, and dissolve an assembly. Dacier dislikes this assertion, as having no foundation in antiquity; she thinks that the assertion of Telemachus is general, that he intimates it is Justice alone that establishes the councils of mankind, and that Injustice confounds and brings the wicked designs of men to confusion.

I have follow'd this interpretation, not only as it suits best with the usual morality of Homer, but also as Jupiter is mention'd with Themis; and no such custom is pretended concerning his statue. He is expressly stil'd by the ancients Ζευς αγοραιος. In Sicily there was an Altar of Ζευς αγοραιος, or of Jupiter who presides over Councils. Eustathius from Herodotus.

To understand this passage, we must remember, as Eustathius remarks, that Telemachus is pleading his Cause before the Ithacensians; them he constitutes the Judges of his cause: He therefore prevents an answer which they might make, viz. We are not the men that are guilty of these outrages; Telemachus rejoins, “It were better for me to suffer from your hands; for by your quiescence you make my affairs desperate:” an intimation that they should rise in his defence.

This passage is not one of those, where the Poet can be blam'd for causing a Heroe to weep. If we consider the youth of Telemachus, together with the tenderness agreeable to that time of life; the subjects that demand his concern; the apprehension of the loss of a father; and the desolate state of his mother and kingdom: All these make his readiness to burst into tears an argument, not of any want of spirit in him, but of true sense, and goodness of nature: and is a great propriety, which shews the right judgment of the Poet.

We find Antinous always setting himself in the strongest opposition to Telemachus; and therefore, he is the first that falls by the spear of Ulysses; the Poet observes justice, and as Antinous is the first in guilt, he is the first in punishment. What Antinous says in this speech concerning the treachery of the female servant of Penelope, prepares the way for the punishment Ulysses inflicts on some of the maids in the conclusion of the Poem: This is an act of Poetical justice; and it is as necessary in Epic as in Tragic Poetry, to reward the just, and punish the guilty. Eustathius.

It will be necessary to vindicate the character of Penelope the Heroine of the Poem, from the aspersions of Antinous. It must be confest that she has a very hard game to play, she neither dares consent, nor deny; if she consents, she injures Ulysses, whom she still expects to return; if she denies, she endangers the Throne, and the life of Telemachus, from the violence of the Suitors; so that no other method is left but to elude their addresses.

I must not conceal, what Eustathius has mention'd from some Authors, as Lycophron, &c. who say that Penelope was κασσωριδα, in plain English, an Harlot; and he quotes Herodotus, as affirming that she had a son, named Pan, by Hermes; but the Bishop declares it is all a scandal; and every body must conclude the same, from her conduct, as describ'd in Homer.

To vindicate her in this place, we must consider who it is that speaks: Antinous, an unsuccessful Lover: and what he blames as a crime, is really her glory; he blames her because she does not comply with their desires; and it had been an act of guilt to have comply'd. He himself sufficiently vindicates her in the conclusion of his speech, where he extols her above all the race of womankind: so that the seeming inconsistence of Penelope must be imputed to the necessity of her affairs: she is artful, but not criminal.

The original says, she deceiv'd the Suitors by her messages; a plain intimation, that she us'd no extraordinary familiarities with her Admirers; and thro' the whole course of the Poem she seldom appears in their Assemblies.

It was an ancient custom to dedicate the finest pieces of Weaving and Embroidery, to honour the funerals of the dead: and there were usually wrought by the nearest relations in their life-time. Thus in the 22d Iliad, Andromache laments, that the body of Hector must be exposed to the air, without those ornaments.

------ αταρ τοι ειματ' ενι μεγαροισι κεονται
Λεπτα τε και χαριεντα, τετυγμενα χερσι γυναικων.

And the mother of Euryalus in Virgil, to her son.

------ Nec te tua funera mater
Produxi, pressive oculos, aut vulnera lavi,
Veste tegens, tibi quam noctes festina diesque
Urgebam, & tela curas solabar aniles.

Eustathius observes, that Antinous in the opening of his Speech throws the fault upon Penelope, to engage the favour of the multitude: But being conscious that he had said things which Penelope would resent, he extols her in the conclusion of it. He ascribes an obstinacy of virtue to her, and by this double conduct endeavours to make both Penelope and the multitude his friends.

Telemachus every where speaks with an openness and bravery of spirit; this speech is a testimony of it, as well as his former; he answers chiefly to the dismission of Penelope, says it would be an offence against Heaven and Earth; and concludes with a vehemence of expression, and tells Antinous that such a word, μυθον, shall never fall from his tongue.

The Critics have found fault with one part of the speech, as betraying a spirit of avarice and meanness in Telemachus:

How to Icarius, in the bridal hour,
Shall I, by waste undone, refund the dow'r?

They think it unworthy of Telemachus to make the Dower of Penelope an argument against her dismission, and consequently ascribe his detention of her, not to duty, but to covetousness. To take away this objection, they point the verses in a different manner, and place a stop after αποτινειν, and then the sense runs thus: “I cannot consent to dismiss her who bore me, and nurs'd me in my infancy, while her husband is absent, or perhaps dead; besides, hard would be the Punishment I should suffer, if I should voluntarily send away Penelope to Icarius.

Dacier dislikes this solution, and appeals to the customs of those Ages, to justify her opinion: If a son forc'd away his mother from his house, he was obliged to restore her dower, and all she brought in marriage to her husband: But if she retir'd voluntarily to engage in a second marriage, the dower remain'd with the son as lawful heir. This opinion of Dacier may be confirm'd from Demosthenes in his orations, και μετα ταυτα ανδρος αυτης τελευτησαντος, απολιπουσα τον οικον, και κοσμισαμενη την προικα. Afterwards upon the decease of her husband, leaving his family, and receiving back her portion, &c. The same Author adds, that the reason why the Suitors are so urgent to send away Penelope, is that she may chuse to marry some one of them, rather than return to Icarius; so that Telemachus only takes hold of their argument for her dismission, in order to detain her. They address'd Penelope more for the sake of her riches than her beauty, (for she must be about forty years old) and he tells them, that if he sends her away against her consent, he must restore those riches, which they covet more than the person of Penelope. This I confess is very refin'd; and perhaps it may be sufficient to take off the objection of covetousness in Telemachus, to understand no more than what the words at the first view seem to imply, viz. an abhorrence of their riots, describ'd by Telemachus to have risen to such a degree as to have almost ruin'd his kingdom, and made their demands impossible. I see nothing unnatural or mean in this interpretation, especially if we remember that the prodigious disorders of his family enter into the essence of the Poem. The greater the disorders are, the greater are the sufferings of Ulysses.

There is an ambiguity in the word Father; it may either signify Icarius or Ulysses, as Eustathius observes: but I think the context determines the person to be Ulysses; for Telemachus believes him to be yet living, and consequently might fear his vengeance, if he offer'd any indignity to Penelope.

In the ninth Iliad we are told that the father of Phœnix imprecated the Furies against his son,

My sire with curses loads my hated head,
And cries “Ye Furies! barren be his bed.
Infernal Jove, the vengeful Fiends below,
And ruthless Proserpine, confirm'd his vow.

In the same book the Furies hear the curses of Althea upon her son,

She beat the ground, and call'd the Pow'rs beneath,
On her own son to wreak her brother's death.
Hell heard her curses from the realms profound,
And the fell Fiends who walk the nightly round.

These passages shew the opinion the Ancients had of the honour due from children to parents, to be such, that they believ'd there were Furies particularly commission'd to punish those who fail'd in that respect, and to fulfil the imprecations made against 'em by their offended parents. There is a greatness in this Idea, and it must have had an effect upon the obedience of the youth. We see Telemachus is full of the sense of it.

Dacier.

This prodigy is usher'd in very magnificently, and the verses are lofty and sonorous. The Eagles are Ulysses and Telemachus; By Jove's command they fly from a mountain's height: this denotes that the two Heroes are inspir'd by Jupiter, and come from the country to the destruction of the Suitors: The eagles fly with wing to wing conjoin'd; this shews, that they act in concert, and unity of councils: At first they float upon the wind; this implies the calmness and secresy of the approach of those Heroes: At last they clang their wings, and hovering beat the skies; this shews the violence of the assault: With ardent eyes the rival train they threat. This, as the Poet himself interprets it, denotes the approaching fate of the Suitors. Then sailing o'er the domes and tow'rs they fly Full toward the East; this signifies that the Suitors alone are not doom'd to destruction, but that the men of Ithaca are involv'd in danger, as Halitherses interprets it.

Nor to the Great alone is death decreed;
We, and our guilty Ithaca must bleed.

See here the natural explication of this prodigy, which is very ingenious! Eustathius, verbatim.

In three lines (observes Eustathius) the Poet gives us the whole Odyssey in Miniature: And it is wonderful to think, that so plain a subject should produce such variety in the process of it. Aristotle observes the simplicity of Homer's platform; which is no more than this: A Prince is absent from his country; Neptune destroys his companions; in his absence his family is disorder'd by many Princes that address his wife, and plot against the life of his only son, but at last after many storms he returns, punishes the Suitors, and re-establishes his affairs: This is all that is essential to the Poem, the rest of it is made up of Episodes. And yet with what miracles of Poetry (speciosa miracula, as Horace stiles them,) has he furnish'd out his Poem?

It has been observ'd, that Homer is the father of Oratory as well as Poetry; and it must be confess'd, that there is not any one branch of it that is not to be found in his Poetry. The Invective, Persuasive, Ironical, &c. may all be gather'd from it. Nothing can be better adapted to the purpose than this speech of Eurymachus: He is to decry the credit of the predictions of Halitherses: he derides, he threats, and describes him as a venal Prophet. He is speaking to the multitude, and endeavours to bring Halitherses into contempt, and in order to it he uses him contemptuously.

It is necessary for the Reader to carry in his mind, that this Assembly consists not only of the Peers, but of the People of Ithaca: For to the People Telemachus here appeals.

It is evident, that the place of the Assembly was at least open to the Air in the upper parts: for otherways how should the Eagles be visible to the Suitors? and so very plainly as to be discover'd to threat them with their eyes? There was no doubt a place set apart for Council, usually in the market: For Telemachus is said to seat himself in his father's throne, in the beginning of this book: But Ulysses had been absent twenty years; and therefore it is evident, that his throne had stood in the same place for the space of twenty years. It is past contradiction, that in Athens and other cities of Greece there were Βουλευτηρια, public Halls for the consultation of affairs.

The name of Mentor is another instance of the gratitude of our Poet's temper, it being the same which belong'd to a friend of his by whom he was entertain'd in Ithaca, during a defluxion on his eyes which seiz'd him in his voyages: and at whose house he is said to have laid the plan of this Poem. This character of Mentor is well sustain'd by his speech, and by the assistance he gratefully gives to young Telemachus on all occasions.

The original says only, “Obey the old man. Eustathius rightly determines, that the expression means Laertes. The Poet loses no opportunity of giving Ulysses an excellent character; this is as necessary as continually to repeat the disorders of the Suitors.

------ Servetur ad imum
Qualis ab incœpto processerit, & sibi constet.

This conduct contributes admirably to the design of the Poem; and when the Poet in the unravelling of his Fable comes to reward and punish the chief actors, we acknowledge his justice in the death of the Suitors, and re-establishment of Ulysses.

The original is not without obscurity: it says, περι Δαιτι: or, in the time of the banquet. Eustathius interprets it, του οινου στρατηγουντος αυτοις, The Wine as it were fighting on their side; and this agrees with what follows.

The design of this speech is to deter the people of Ithaca from rising in the cause of Ulysses: Mentor speaks justly; Leocritus insolently. Mentor sets before them the worth of Ulysses; Leocritus the power of the Suitors: Mentor speaks like a brave man; Leocritus (observes Eustathius) like a coward, who wanting true courage, flies to the assistance of wine to raise a false one.

Perhaps it may be objected, that there is not a sufficient distinction in the characters of the several Suitors; they are all describ'd as insolent voluptuaries. But tho' they agree in this general character, yet there is something distinguishing in the particular persons: Thus Antinous derides, Eurymachus covers villainy with mildness; Antinous is ever the foremost in outrage, Eurymachus generally his second: A greater distinction is neither necessary, nor possible to be represented. What the Poet is to describe, is the insolence of the Suitors, and the disorders they create in his family and kingdom; he is oblig'd to dwell upon these circumstances, because they are essential to his design: and consequently that general resemblance of their characters, is not a fault in the Poet.

The Assembly which was conven'd by Telemachus, is broke up in a riotous manner by Leocritus, who had no right to dissolve it. This agrees with the lawless state of the country in the absence of its King, and shews (says Eustathius) that the Suitors had usurp'd the chief Authority.

There is a fine contraste between the behaviour of Telemachus and that of the Suitors. They return to repeat their disorders and debauches; Telemachus retires to supplicate the Goddess of Wisdom, to assist him in his enterprizes. Thus the Poet raises the character of Telemachus; he has shew'd him to be a youth of a brave spirit, a good Speaker, and here represents him as a person of piety.

This speech of Minerva is suited to encourage a young man to imitate the virtue of his father, and not to suffer himself to be overcome by any appearance of difficulties. She sets his father before his eyes, and tells him, there was never any danger which he durst not encounter; if he should suffer himself to be discouraged, he would prove himself an unworthy son of a brave Father. Dacier. Eustathius.

This speech must be understood ironically: εργον τε επος τε is us'd as before, and has relation to the preceding harangues of Telemachus to the people, and his intended voyage; by way of derision Antinous bids him not trouble his brave Spirit in contriving any more Orations, or in any bold attempt to find out Ulysses; or to act the Orator, or Heroe's part.

The Critics have almost generally condemn'd these pieces of gayety and raillery, as unworthy of heroic Poetry: if ever they are proper, they must be so in the mouths of these Suitors; persons of no serious, or noble characters: Mirth, wine, and feasting is their constant employment; and consequently if they fall into absurdities, they act suitably to their characters. Milton, the best and greatest imitator of Homer, has follow'd him unworthily in this respect; I mean, has debased even this low raillery into greater lowness, by playing upon words and syllables. But in this place the raillery is not without its effect, by shewing the utmost contempt of Telemachus; and surely it is the lowest degree of calamity to be at once oppress'd and despis'd.

It is observable, says Eustathius, that the Poet had in his choice several expedients to bring about the destruction of the Suitors, but he rejects them, and chuses the most difficult method, out of reverence to truth, being unwilling to falsify the Histories of Sparta and Pylos. This has a double effect; it furnishes the Poet with a series of noble incidents; and also gives an air of probability to the story of Ulysses and Telemachus.

The Suitors allot the Palace to Penelope: it being, says Eustathius, the only thing that they cannot consume; and adds, that the expression of the Suitors concerning the labour they should undergo in dividing the substance of Ulysses, shews the wealth and abundance of that Heroe. Dacier has found out an allusion between φονσν in the first speech, and πονον in the second; they differing only in one letter: She calls this a beauty, which she laments she cannot preserve in her translation. She is the only Commentator that ever was quicksighted enough to make the discovery. The words have no relation; they stand at a sufficient distance; and I believe Homer would have thought such trifling unworthy of his Poetry. So that all the honour which accrues from that observation must be ascrib'd (in this case, as in many others) to the Commentator, and not the Author.

Such passages as these have ever furnish'd Critics with matter of raillery: They think such houshold cares unworthy of a King, and that this conduct suits better with vulgar persons of less fortune. I confess, such descriptions now would be ridiculous in a Poet, because unsuitable to our manners. But if we look upon such passages as pictures and exact representations of the old world, the Reader will find a sensible pleasure in them.

It is a true observation, that the Iliad is chiefly suitable to the condition of Kings and Heroes; and consequently fill'd with circumstances in which the greatest part of mankind can have no concern or interest: The Odyssey is of more general use; the story of it is a series of calamities, which concern every man, as every man may feel them. We can bring the sufferings of Ulysses in some degree home to our selves, and make his condition our own; but what private person can ever be in the circumstances of Agamemnon or Achilles? What I would infer from this is, that the Reader ought not to take offence at any such descriptions, which are only mean as they differ from the fashions of the latter ages. In the Iliad, Achilles when he acts in the common offices of life, and not as an Heroe, is liable to the same objection. But if the manners of the antient ages be consider'd, we shall be reconcil'd to the actions of the ancient Heroes; and consequently to Homer.

Euryclea was not properly the Nurse of Telemachus, but of Ulysses, so that she is call'd so not in a strict sense, but as one concern'd in his education from his infancy, and as a general appellation of honour. Telemachus here reserves the best wines for Ulysses; a lesson, (observes Eustathius) that even in the smallest matters we ought to pay a deference to our parents. These occasional and seemingly-trivial circumstances are not without their use, if not as poetical ornaments, yet as moral instructions.

It may be demanded how it was probable, (if possible) that the departure of Telemachus could be conceal'd twelve days from the knowledge of so fond a mother as Penelope? It must be allow'd, that this would not be possible except in a time of such great disorder as the Suitors created: Penelope confin'd herself almost continually within her own apartment, and very seldom appear'd publickly; so that there is no improbability in this relation.

Dacier.

Eustathius makes a criticism upon the words απομνυναι and επομνυναι, the former is used negatively, the latter affirmatively; namely, the former in swearing not to perform a thing, the latter to perform it.

It is probable that this passage of Minerva preparing the Mariners, &c. is thus to be understood: The men of Ithaca, retaining in memory the speech of Telemachus, and believing that what he then said, and now requests, was agreeable to justice; and having as it were his image graven upon their hearts; voluntarily resolve to lend him assiststance: So that Minerva is to be taken allegorically, to imply that it was every person's own Reason that induced him to assist Telemachus. Eustathius.

It may be ask'd why this particularity is necessary, and may it not be thought that such a little circumstance is insignificant? The answer is, that a great deal depends upon this particularity; no less than the discovery of the voyage of Telemachus to the Suitors; and consequently, whatever the Suitors act in order to intercept him takes its rise from this little incident; the fountain is indeed small, but a large stream of Poetry flows from it.

The words in the original are ευδειν and υπνος, which are not to be taken for being asleep, but drowzy; this is evident from the usage of καθευδειν, in the conclusion of the first book of the Iliad, where the signification has been mistaken by most translators: They make Jupiter there to be asleep; tho' two lines afterwards, in the second book, Homer expressly says,

Th'Immortals slumber'd on their thrones above:
All, but the ever-waking eyes of Jove.

It may be ask'd how Minerva can be said to occasion this drowziness in the Suitors, and make them retire sooner than usual? Eustathius replies, that the person who furnish'd the wine supply'd it in greater quantities than ordinary, thro' which wine they contracted a drowziness: In this sense Minerva, or Wisdom, may be said to assist the designs of Telemachus.

This also is an allegory, and implies that the sailors had the experience and art to guide the ship before the winds; but Poetry, that delights to raise every circumstance, exalts it into the marvellous, and ascribes it to the Goddess of Wisdom. Eustathius.

It is observable, that Homer never passes by an opportunity of describing the sea, or a ship under sail; (and in many other places, as well as in this, he dwells largely upon it:) I take the reason to be, not only because it furnish'd him with variety of poetical images, but because he himself having made frequent voyages, had a full Idea of it, and consequently was delighted with it: This is evident from his conduct in the Iliad, where variety of allusions and similitudes are drawn from the Sea, and are not the smallest ornaments of his Poetry.

This custom of libations was frequent upon all solemn occasions, before meat, before sleep, voyages, journeys; and in all religious rites, sacrifices, &c. They were always made with wine, pure and unmix'd, whence ακρατον is a word frequent in ancient Authors. Sometimes they used mixed wine in Sacrifices; but Eustathius says, that this mixture was of wine with wine, and not of wine with water; hence came the distinction of ενσπονδον, and ασπονδον, the unlawful and lawful libation; wine unmix'd was lawful, the mix'd unlawful. Homer in this place uses επιστεφεας κρητηας, or Goblets crown'd with wine; that is, fill'd 'till the wine stood above the brim of the Goblet: they esteem'd it an irreverence to the Gods not to fill the cups full, for then only they esteem'd the libation whole and perfect, ολον και τελειον.

This Book takes up the space of one day and one night: it opens with the morning; the speeches in the Council, with the preparations for the voyage of Telemachus, are the subject of the day; and the voyage is finish'd by the next morning. By this last circumstance we may learn that Ithaca was distant from Pylos but one night's voyage, nay something less, there being some time spent after the setting of the Sun, in carrying the provisions from the Palace to the vessel.

The book consists chiefly in the speeches of Telemachus and his friends, against those of the Suitors. It shews the great judgment of the Poet in chusing this method: hence we see the causes preceding the effects; and know from what spring every action flow'd: we are never at a loss for a reason for every incidents the speeches are as it were the ground-work upon which he builds all that relates to the adventures of Telemachus.

In the Iliad, after the dissolution of the Council in the first book, and the dissention between Agamemnon and Achilles, we immediately see upon what hinge the fable turns. So in the Odyssey, after the Poet has laid before us the warm debates between the Suitors and Telemachus, we immediately expect them to act as enemies: The war is declar'd, and we become judges as well as spectators of the scenes of action. Thus Homer adds the perspicuity of History to the ornaments of Poetry.