  Telemachus arriving at Pylus, enquires of Nestor concerning Ulysses. Nestor relates to him all that he knows or has heard of the Greecians since their departure from the siege of Troy, but not being able to give him any satisfactory account of Ulysses, refers him to Menelaus. At evening Minerva quits Telemachus, but discovers herself in going. Nestor sacrifices to the Goddess, and the solemnity ended, Telemachus sets forth for Sparta in one of Nestor’s chariots, and accompanied by Nestor’s son, Pisistratus. The sun, emerging from the lucid waves, Ascended now the brazen vault with light For the inhabitants of earth and heav’n, When in their bark at Pylus they arrived, City of Neleus. On the shore they found The people sacrificing; bulls they slew Black without spot, to Neptune azure-hair’d. On ranges nine of seats they sat; each range Received five hundred, and to each they made Allotment equal of nine sable bulls. The feast was now begun; these eating sat The entrails, those stood off’ring to the God The thighs, his portion, when the Ithacans Push’d right ashore, and, furling close the sails, And making fast their moorings, disembark’d. Forth came Telemachus, by Pallas led, Whom thus the Goddess azure-eyed address’d. Telemachus! there is no longer room For bashful fear, since thou hast cross’d the flood With purpose to enquire what land conceals Thy father, and what fate hath follow’d him. Advance at once to the equestrian Chief Nestor, within whose bosom lies, perhaps, Advice well worthy of thy search; entreat Himself, that he will tell thee only truth, Who will not lye, for he is passing wise. To whom Telemachus discrete replied. Ah Mentor! how can I advance, how greet In manag’d phrase? Shame bids the youth beware How he accosts the man of many years. But him the Goddess answer’d azure-eyed, Telemachus! Thou wilt, in part, thyself Fit speech devise, and heav’n will give the rest; For thou wast neither born, nor hast been train’d To manhood, under unpropitious Pow’rs. So saying, Minerva led him thence, whom he With nimble steps attending, soon arrived Among the multitude. There Nestor sat, And Nestor’s sons, while, busily the feast Tending, his num’rous followers roasted, some, The viands, some, transfix’d them with the spits. They seeing guests arrived, together all Advanced, and, grasping courteously their hands, Invited them to sit; but first, the son Of Nestor, young Pisistratus, approach’d, Who, fast’ning on the hands of both, beside The banquet placed them, where the beach was spread With fleeces, and where Thrasymedes sat His brother, and the hoary Chief his Sire. To each a portion of the inner parts He gave, then fill’d a golden cup with wine, Which, tasted first, he to the daughter bore Of Jove the Thund’rer, and her thus bespake. Oh guest! the King of Ocean now adore! For ye have chanced on Neptune’s festival; And, when thou hast, thyself, libation made Duly, and pray’r, deliver to thy friend The gen’rous juice, that he may also make Libation; for he, doubtless, seeks, in prayer The Immortals, of whose favour all have need. But, since he younger is, and with myself Coeval, first I give the cup to thee. He ceas’d, and to her hand consign’d the cup, Which Pallas gladly from a youth received So just and wise, who to herself had first The golden cup presented, and in pray’r Fervent the Sov’reign of the Seas adored. Hear, earth-encircler Neptune! O vouchsafe To us thy suppliants the desired effect Of this our voyage; glory, first, bestow To all the Pylians such a gracious boon As shall requite their noble off’ring well. Grant also to Telemachus and me To voyage hence, possess’d of what we sought When hither in our sable bark we came. So Pallas pray’d, and her own pray’r herself Accomplish’d. To Telemachus she gave The splendid goblet next, and in his turn Like pray’r Ulysses’ son also preferr’d. And now (the banquet from the spits withdrawn) They next distributed sufficient share To each, and all were sumptuously regaled. At length, (both hunger satisfied and thirst) Thus Nestor, the Gerenian Chief, began. Now with more seemliness we may enquire, After repast, what guests we have received. Our guests! who are ye? Whence have ye the waves Plough’d hither? Come ye to transact concerns Commercial, or at random roam the Deep Like pirates, who with mischief charged and woe To foreign States, oft hazard life themselves? Him answer’d, bolder now, but still discrete, Telemachus. For Pallas had his heart With manly courage arm’d, that he might ask From Nestor tidings of his absent Sire, And win, himself, distinction and renown. Oh Nestor, Neleus’ son, glory of Greece! Thou askest whence we are. I tell thee whence. From Ithaca, by the umbrageous woods Of Neritus o’erhung, by private need, Not public, urged, we come. My errand is To seek intelligence of the renown’d Ulysses; of my noble father, prais’d For dauntless courage, whom report proclaims Conqueror, with thine aid, of sacred Troy. We have already learn’d where other Chiefs Who fought at Ilium, died; but Jove conceals Even the death of my illustrious Sire In dull obscurity; for none hath heard Or confident can answer, where he dy’d; Whether he on the continent hath fall’n By hostile hands, or by the waves o’erwhelm’d For this cause, at thy knees suppliant, I beg That thou would’st tell me his disast’rous end, If either thou beheld’st that dread event Thyself, or from some wanderer of the Greeks Hast heard it: for my father at his birth Was, sure, predestin’d to no common woes. Neither through pity, or o’erstrain’d respect Flatter me, but explicit all relate Which thou hast witness’d. If my noble Sire E’er gratified thee by performance just Of word or deed at Ilium, where ye fell So num’rous slain in fight, oh, recollect Now his fidelity, and tell me true. Then Nestor thus Gerenian Hero old. Young friend! since thou remind’st me, speaking thus, Of all the woes which indefatigable We sons of the Achaians there sustain’d, Both those which wand’ring on the Deep we bore Wherever by Achilles led in quest Of booty, and the many woes beside Which under royal Priam’s spacious walls We suffer’d, know, that there our bravest fell. There warlike Ajax lies, there Peleus’ son; There, too, Patroclus, like the Gods themselves In council, and my son beloved there, Brave, virtuous, swift of foot, and bold in fight, Antilochus. Nor are these sorrows all; What tongue of mortal man could all relate? Should’st thou, abiding here, five years employ Or six, enquiring of the woes endured By the Achaians, ere thou should’st have learn’d The whole, thou would’st depart, tir’d of the tale. For we, nine years, stratagems of all kinds Devised against them, and Saturnian Jove Scarce crown’d the difficult attempt at last. There, no competitor in wiles well-plann’d Ulysses found, so far were all surpass’d In shrewd invention by thy noble Sire, If thou indeed art his, as sure thou art, Whose sight breeds wonder in me, and thy speech His speech resembles more than might be deem’d Within the scope of years so green as thine. Illustrious Ulysses and myself Divided were, but, one in heart, contrived As best we might, the benefit of all. But after Priam’s lofty city sack’d, And the departure of the Greeks on board Their barks, and when the Gods had scatter’d them, Then Jove imagin’d for the Argive host A sorrowful return; for neither just Were all, nor prudent, therefore many found A fate disast’rous through the vengeful ire Of Jove-born Pallas, who between the sons Of Atreus sharp contention interposed. They both, irregularly, and against Just order, summoning by night the Greeks To council, of whom many came with wine Oppress’d, promulgated the cause for which They had convened the people. Then it was That Menelaus bade the general host Their thoughts bend homeward o’er the sacred Deep, Which Agamemnon in no sort approved. His counsel was to slay them yet at Troy, That so he might assuage the dreadful wrath Of Pallas, first, by sacrifice and pray’r. Vain hope! he little thought how ill should speed That fond attempt, for, once provok’d, the Gods Are not with ease conciliated again. Thus stood the brothers, altercation hot Maintaining, till at length, uprose the Greeks With deaf’ning clamours, and with diff’ring minds. We slept the night, but teeming with disgust Mutual, for Jove great woe prepar’d for all. At dawn of day we drew our gallies down Into the sea, and, hasty, put on board The spoils and female captives. Half the host, With Agamemnon, son of Atreus, stay’d Supreme commander, and, embarking, half Push’d forth. Swift course we made, for Neptune smooth’d The waves before us of the monstrous Deep. At Tenedos arriv’d, we there perform’d Sacrifice to the Gods, ardent to reach Our native land, but unpropitious Jove, Not yet designing our arrival there, For all the crews, followers of the King, Thy noble Sire, to gratify our Chief, The son of Atreus, chose a diff’rent course, And steer’d their oary barks again to Troy. But I, assured that evil from the Gods Impended, gath’ring all my gallant fleet, Fled thence in haste, and warlike Diomede Exhorting his attendants, also fled. At length, the Hero Menelaus join’d Our fleets at Lesbos; there he found us held In deep deliberation on the length Of way before us, whether we should steer Above the craggy Chios to the isle Psyria, that island holding on our left, Or under Chios by the wind-swept heights Of Mimas. Then we ask’d from Jove a sign, And by a sign vouchsafed he bade us cut The wide sea to Euboea sheer athwart, So soonest to escape the threat’ned harm. Shrill sang the rising gale, and with swift prows Cleaving the fishy flood, we reach’d by night GerÆstus, where arrived, we burn’d the thighs Of num’rous bulls to Neptune, who had safe Conducted us through all our perilous course. The fleet of Diomede in safety moor’d On the fourth day at Argos, but myself Held on my course to Pylus, nor the wind One moment thwarted us, or died away, When Jove had once commanded it to blow. Thus, uninform’d, I have arrived, my son! Nor of the Greecians, who are saved have heard, Or who have perish’d; but what news soe’er I have obtain’d, since my return, with truth I will relate, nor aught conceal from thee. The spear-famed Myrmidons, as rumour speaks, By Neoptolemus, illustrious son Of brave Achilles led, have safe arrived; Safe, Philoctetes, also son renown’d Of PÆas; and Idomeneus at Crete Hath landed all his followers who survive The bloody war, the waves have swallow’d none. Ye have yourselves doubtless, although remote, And how Ægisthus cruelly contrived For him a bloody welcome, but himself Hath with his own life paid the murth’rous deed. Good is it, therefore, if a son survive The slain, since Agamemnon’s son hath well Avenged his father’s death, slaying, himself, Ægisthus, foul assassin of his Sire. Young friend! (for pleas’d thy vig’rous youth I view, And just proportion) be thou also bold, That thine like his may be a deathless name. Then, prudent, him answer’d Telemachus. Oh Nestor, Neleus’ son, glory of Greece! And righteous was that vengeance; his renown Achaia’s sons shall far and wide diffuse, To future times transmitting it in song. Ah! would that such ability the Gods Would grant to me, that I, as well, the deeds Might punish of our suitors, whose excess Enormous, and whose bitter taunts I feel Continual, object of their subtle hate. But not for me such happiness the Gods Have twined into my thread; no, not for me Or for my father. Patience is our part. To whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied. Young friend! (since thou remind’st me of that theme) Fame here reports that num’rous suitors haunt Thy palace for thy mother’s sake, and there Much evil perpetrate in thy despight. But say, endur’st thou willing their controul Imperious, or because the people, sway’d By some response oracular, incline Against thee? But who knows? the time may come When to his home restored, either alone, Or aided by the force of all the Greeks, Ulysses may avenge the wrong; at least, Should Pallas azure-eyed thee love, as erst At Troy, the scene of our unnumber’d woes, She lov’d Ulysses (for I have not known The Gods assisting so apparently A mortal man, as him Minerva there) Should Pallas view thee also with like love And kind solicitude, some few of those Then answer thus Telemachus return’d. That word’s accomplishment I cannot hope; It promises too much; the thought alone O’erwhelms me; an event so fortunate Would, unexpected on my part, arrive, Although the Gods themselves should purpose it. But Pallas him answer’d cÆrulean-eyed. Telemachus! what word was that which leap’d The iv’ry guard A God, so willing, could with utmost ease Save any man, howe’er remote. Myself, I had much rather, many woes endured, Revisit home, at last, happy and safe, Than, sooner coming, die in my own house, As Agamemnon perish’d by the arts Of base Ægisthus and the subtle Queen. Yet not the Gods themselves can save from death All-levelling, the man whom most they love, When Fate ordains him once to his last sleep. To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied. Howe’er it interest us, let us leave This question, Mentor! He, I am assured, Returns no more, but hath already found A sad, sad fate by the decree of heav’n. But I would now interrogate again Nestor, and on a different theme, for him In human rights I judge, and laws expert, And in all knowledge beyond other men; For he hath govern’d, as report proclaims, Three generations; therefore in my eyes He wears the awful impress of a God. Oh Nestor, son of Neleus, tell me true; What was the manner of Atrides’ death, Wide-ruling Agamemnon? Tell me where Was Menelaus? By what means contrived Ægisthus to inflict the fatal blow, Slaying so much a nobler than himself? Had not the brother of the Monarch reach’d In other climes, his long absence gave Ægisthus courage for that bloody deed? Whom answer’d the Gerenian Chief renown’d. My son! I will inform thee true; meantime Thy own suspicions border on the fact. Had Menelaus, Hero, amber hair’d, Ægisthus found living at his return From Ilium, never on his bones the Greeks Had heap’d a tomb, but dogs and rav’ning fowls Had torn him lying in the open field Far from the town, nor him had woman wept Of all in Greece, for he had foul transgress’d. But we, in many an arduous task engaged, Lay before Ilium; he, the while, secure Within the green retreats of Argos, found Occasion apt by flatt’ry to delude The spouse of Agamemnon; she, at first, (The royal Clytemnestra) firm refused The deed dishonourable (for she bore A virtuous mind, and at her side a bard Attended ever, whom the King, to Troy Departing, had appointed to the charge.) But when the Gods had purposed to ensnare Ægisthus, then dismissing far remote The bard into a desart isle, he there Abandon’d him to rav’ning fowls a prey, And to his own home, willing as himself, Led Clytemnestra. Num’rous thighs he burn’d On all their hallow’d altars to the Gods, And hung with tap’stry, images, and gold Their shrines, his great exploit past hope atchiev’d. We (Menelaus and myself) had sailed From Troy together, but when we approach’d Sunium, headland of th’ Athenian shore, There Phoebus, sudden, with his gentle shafts Slew Menelaus’ pilot while he steer’d The volant bark, Phrontis, Onetor’s son, A mariner past all expert, whom none In steerage match’d, what time the tempest roar’d. Here, therefore, Menelaus was detained, Giving his friend due burial, and his rites Funereal celebrating, though in haste The wide sea traversing, he reach’d at length Malea’s lofty foreland in his course, Rough passage, then, and perilous he found. Shrill blasts the Thund’rer pour’d into his sails, And wild waves sent him mountainous. His ships There scatter’d, some to the Cydonian coast Of Crete he push’d, near where the Jardan flows. Beside the confines of Gortyna stands, Amid the gloomy flood, a smooth rock, steep Toward the sea, against whose leftward point PhÆstus by name, the South wind rolls the surge Amain, which yet the rock, though small, repells. Hither with part he came, and scarce the crews Themselves escaped, while the huge billows broke Their ships against the rocks; yet five he saved, Which winds and waves drove to the Ægyptian shore. Thus he, provision gath’ring as he went And gold abundant, roam’d to distant lands And nations of another tongue. Meantime, Ægisthus these enormities at home Devising, slew Atrides, and supreme Rul’d the subjected land; sev’n years he reign’d In opulent MycenÆ, but the eighth From Athens brought renown’d Orestes home For his destruction, who of life bereaved Ægisthus base assassin of his Sire. Orestes, therefore, the funereal rites Performing to his shameless mother’s shade And to her lustful paramour, a feast Gave to the Argives; on which self-same day The warlike Menelaus, with his ships All treasure-laden to the brink, arrived. And thou, young friend! from thy forsaken home Rove not long time remote, thy treasures left At mercy of those proud, lest they divide And waste the whole, rend’ring thy voyage vain. But hence to Menelaus is the course To which I counsel thee; for he hath come Of late from distant lands, whence to escape No man could hope, whom tempests first had driv’n Devious into so wide a sea, from which Themselves the birds of heaven could not arrive Go, then, with ship and shipmates, or if more The land delight thee, steeds thou shalt not want Nor chariot, and my sons shall be thy guides To noble Lacedemon, the abode Of Menelaus; ask from him the truth, Who will not lye, for he is passing wise. While thus he spake, the sun declined, and night Approaching, blue-eyed Pallas interposed. O antient King! well hast thou spoken all. But now delay not. Cut ye forth the tongues, And mingle wine, that (Neptune first invoked With due libation, and the other Gods) We may repair to rest; for even now The sun is sunk, and it becomes us not Long to protract a banquet to the Gods Devote, but in fit season to depart. So spake Jove’s daughter; they obedient heard. The heralds, then, pour’d water on their hands, And the attendant youths, filling the cups, Served them from left to right. Next all the tongues They cast into the fire, and ev’ry guest Arising, pour’d libation to the Gods. Libation made, and all with wine sufficed, Godlike Telemachus and Pallas both Would have return’d, incontinent, on board, But Nestor urged them still to be his guests. Forbid it, Jove, and all the Pow’rs of heav’n! That ye should leave me to repair on board Your vessel, as I were some needy wretch Cloakless and destitute of fleecy stores Wherewith to spread the couch soft for myself, Or for my guests. No. I have garments warm An ample store, and rugs of richest dye; And never shall Ulysses’ son belov’d, While I draw vital air; grant also, heav’n, That, dying, I may leave behind me sons Glad to accommodate whatever guest! Him answer’d then Pallas cÆrulean-eyed. Telemachus thy kind commands obey. Let him attend thee hence, that he may sleep Beneath thy roof, but I return on board Myself, to instruct my people, and to give All needful orders; for among them none Is old as I, but they are youths alike, Coevals of Telemachus, with whom They have embark’d for friendship’s sake alone. I therefore will repose myself on board This night, and to the Caucons bold in arms Will sail to-morrow, to demand arrears Long time unpaid, and of no small amount. But, since he is become thy guest, afford My friend a chariot, and a son of thine Who shall direct his way, nor let him want Of all thy steeds the swiftest and the best. So saying, the blue-eyed Goddess as upborne On eagle’s wings, vanish’d; amazement seized The whole assembly, and the antient King O’erwhelmed with wonder at that sight, the hand Grasp’d of Telemachus, whom he thus bespake. My friend! I prophesy that thou shalt prove Nor base nor dastard, whom, so young, the Gods Already take in charge; for of the Pow’rs Inhabitants of heav’n, none else was this Than Jove’s own daughter Pallas, who among The Greecians honour’d most thy gen’rous Sire. But thou, O Queen! compassionate us all, Myself, my sons, my comfort; give to each A glorious name, and I to thee will give For sacrifice an heifer of the year, Broad-fronted, one that never yet hath borne The yoke, and will incase her horns with gold. So Nestor pray’d, whom Pallas gracious heard. Then the Gerenian warrior old, before His sons and sons in law, to his abode Magnificent proceeded: they (arrived Within the splendid palace of the King) On thrones and couches sat in order ranged, Whom Nestor welcom’d, charging high the cup With wine of richest sort, which she who kept That treasure, now in the eleventh year With this the hoary Senior fill’d a cup, And to the daughter of Jove Ægis-arm’d Pouring libation, offer’d fervent pray’r. When all had made libation, and no wish Remain’d of more, then each to rest retired, And Nestor the Gerenian warrior old Led thence Telemachus to a carved couch Beneath the sounding portico prepared. Beside him he bade sleep the spearman bold, Pisistratus, a gallant youth, the sole Unwedded in his house of all his sons. Himself in the interior palace lay, Where couch and cov’ring for her antient spouse The consort Queen had diligent prepar’d. But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn, “When words like these in vocal breath Burst from his twofold hedge of teeth.” |
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