THE ODYSSEY (Completed)

BOOK 23

ARGUMENT.

Euryclea awakens Penelope with the news of Ulysses' return, and the death of the suitors. Penelope scarcely credits her; but supposes some god has punished them, and descends from her department in doubt. At the first interview of Ulysses and Penelope, she is quite unsatisfied. Minerva restores him to the beauty of his youth; but the queen continues incredulous, till by some circumstances she is convinced, and falls into all the transports of passion and tenderness. They recount to each other all that has passed during their long separation. The next morning Ulysses, arming himself and his friends, goes from the city to visit his father.

Then to the queen, as in repose she lay, The nurse with eager rapture speeds her way: The transports of her faithful heart supply A sudden youth, and give her wings to fly.

"And sleeps my child? (the reverend matron cries) Ulysses lives! arise, my child, arise! At length appears the long-expected hour! Ulysses comes! the suitors are no more! No more they view the golden light of day! Arise, and bless thee with the glad survey?"

Touch'd at her words, the mournful queen rejoin'd: "Ah! whither wanders thy distemper'd mind? The righteous powers, who tread the starry skies, The weak enlighten, and confound the wise, And human thought, with unresisted sway, Depress or raise, enlarge or take away: Truth, by their high decree, thy voice forsakes, And folly with the tongue of wisdom speaks. Unkind, the fond illusion to impose! Was it to flatter or deride my woes? Never did I sleep so sweet enjoy, Since my dear lord left Ithaca for Troy. Why must I wake to grieve, and curse thy shore, O Troy?--may never tongue pronounce thee more! Begone! another might have felt our rage, But age is sacred, and we spare thy age."

To whom with warmth: "My soul a lie disdains; Ulysses lives, thy own Ulysses reigns: That stranger, patient of the suitors' wrongs, And the rude license of ungovern'd tongues! He, he is thine! Thy son his latent guest Long knew, but lock'd the secret in his breast: With well concerted art to end his woes, And burst at once in vengeance on the foes."

While yet she spoke, the queen in transport sprung Swift from the couch, and round the matron hung; Fast from her eye descends the rolling tear: "Say, once more say, is my Ulysses here? How could that numerous and outrageous band By one be slain, though by a hero's hand?"

"I saw it not (she cries), but heard alone, When death was busy, a loud dying groan; The damsel-train turn'd pale at every wound, Immured we sate, and catch'd each passing sound; When death had seized her prey, thy son attends, And at his nod the damsel-train descends; There terrible in arms Ulysses stood, And the dead suitors almost swam in blood: Thy heart had leap'd the hero to survey, Stern as the surly lion o'er his prey, Glorious in gore, now with sulphereous fire The dome he purges, now the flame aspires; Heap'd lie the dead without the palace walls-- Haste, daughter, haste, thy own Ulysses calls! Thy every wish the bounteous gods bestow; Enjoy the present good, and former woe. Ulysses lives, his vanquish'd foes to see; He lives to thy Telemachus and thee!"

"Ah, no! (with sighs Penelope rejoin'd,) Excess of joy disturbs thy wandering mind; How blest this happy hour, should he appear, Dear to us all, to me supremely dear; Ah, no! some god the suitors death decreed, Some god descends, and by his hand they bleed; Blind! to contemn the stranger's righteous cause, And violate all hospitable laws! The good they hated, and the powers defied! But heaven is just, and by a god they died. For never must Ulysses view this shore; Never! the loved Ulysses is no more!"

"What words (the matron cries) have reach'd my ears? Doubt we his presence, when he now appears! Then hear conviction: Ere the fatal day That forced Ulysses o'er the watery way, A boar, fierce rushing in the sylvan war, Plough'd half his thigh; I saw, I saw the scar, And wild with transport had reveal'd the wound; But ere I spoke, he rose, and check'd the sound. Then, daughter, haste away! and if a lie Flow from this tongue, then let thy servant die!" To whom with dubious joy the queen replies: "Wise is thy soul, but errors seize the wise; The works of gods what mortal can survey? Who knows their motives, who shall trace their way? But learn we instant how the suitors trod The paths of death, by man, or by a god." Thus speaks the queen, and no reply attends, But with alternate joy and fear descends; At every step debates her lord to prove; Or, rushing to his arms, confess her love! Then gliding through the marble valves, in state Opposed, before the shining sire she sate. The monarch, by a column high enthroned, His eye withdrew, and fix'd it on the ground; Curious to hear his queen the silence break: Amazed she sate, and impotent to speak; O'er all the man her eyes she rolls in vain, Now hopes, now fears, now knows, then doubts again. At length Telemachus: "Oh, who can find A woman like Penelope unkind? Why thus in silence? why with winning charms Thus slow to fly with rapture to his arms? Stubborn the breast that with no transport glows, When twice ten years are pass'd of mighty woes; To softness lost, to spousal love unknown, The gods have formed that rigid heart of stone!" "O my Telemachus! (the queen rejoin'd,) Distracting fears confound my labouring mind; Powerless to speak. I scarce uplift my eyes, Nor dare to question; doubts on doubts arise. Oh deign he, if Ulysses, to remove These boding thoughts, and what he is, to prove!" Pleased with her virtuous fears, the king replies: "Indulge, my son, the cautions of the wise; Time shall the truth to sure remembrance bring: This garb of poverty belies the king: No more. This day our deepest care requires, Cautious to act what thought mature inspires. If one man's blood, though mean, distain our hands, The homicide retreats to foreign lands; By us, in heaps the illustrious peerage falls, The important deed our whole attention calls."