V. The Dog Argus.
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FROM THE ODYSSEY.—Book XVII. 290–327.
I
Then as they spake, upraised his head,
Pricked up his listening ear,
The dog, whom erst Odysseus bred,
Old Argus lying near.
II
He bred him, but his fostering skill
To himself had naught availed;
For Argus joined not the chase, until
The king had to Ilion sailed.
III
To hunt the wild-goat, hart, and hare,
Him once young huntsmen sped;
But now he lay an outcast there,
Absent his lord, to none a care,
Upon a dunghill bed,
IV
Where store of dung, profusely flung
By mules and oxen, lay;
Before the gates it was spread along
For the hinds to bear away,
V
As rich manure for the lands they tilled
Of their prince beyond the sea;
There was Argus stretched, his flesh all filled
With the dog-worrying flea.
VI
But when by the hound his king was known,
Wagged was the fawning tail,
Backward his close-clapped ears were thrown,
And up to his master's side had he flown;
But his limbs he felt to fail.
VII
Odysseus saw, and turned aside
To wipe away the tear;
From Eumæus he chose his grief to hide,
And “Strange, passing strange, is the sight,” he cried,
“Of such a dog laid here!
VIII
“Noble his shape, but I can not tell
If his worth with that shape may suit;
If a hound he be in the chase to excel,
For fleetness of his foot:
IX
“Or worthless as a household hound,
Whom men by their boards will place,
For no merit of strength or speed renowned,
But admired for shapely grace.”
X
“He is the dog of one now dead,
In a far land away;
But if you had seen,” the swineherd said,
“This dog in his better day,
When Odysseus hence his warriors led
To join in the Trojan fray,
XI
“His strength, his plight, his speed so light,
You had with wonder viewed;
No beast that once had crossed his sight,
In the depths of the darkest wood,
'Scaped him, as, tracking sure and right,
He on its trace pursued.
XII
“But now all o'er in sorrows sore
He pines in piteous wise;
The king upon some distant shore
In death has closed his eyes;
And the careless women here no more
Tend Argus as he lies.
XIII
“For slaves who find their former lord
No longer holds the sway,
No fitting service will afford,
Or just obedience pay.
XIV
“Far-seeing Jove's resistless power
Takes half away the soul
From him, who of one servile hour
Has felt the dire control.”
XV
This said, the swineherd passed the gate,
And entered the dwelling tall,
Where proud in state the suitors sate
Within the palace hall.
XVI
And darksome death checked Argus' breath
When he saw his master dear;
For he died his master's eye beneath,
Coming back in the twentieth year.
