Muse make the man thy theme, for shrewdness famed

 

And genius versatile, who far and wide

 

A Wand'rer, after Ilium overthrown,

 

Discover'd various cities, and the mind

 

And manners learn'd of men, in lands remote.

 

He num'rous woes on Ocean toss'd, endured,

 

Anxious to save himself, and to conduct

 

His followers to their home; yet all his care

 

Preserved them not; they perish'd self-destroy'd

 

By their own fault; infatuate! who devoured 10 The oxen of the all-o'erseeing Sun,

 

And, punish'd for that crime, return'd no more.

 

Daughter divine of Jove, these things record,

 

As it may please thee, even in our ears.

 

The rest, all those who had perdition 'scaped

 

By war or on the Deep, dwelt now at home;

 

Him only, of his country and his wife

 

Alike desirous, in her hollow grots

 

Calypso, Goddess beautiful, detained

 

Wooing him to her arms. But when, at length, 20 (Many a long year elapsed) the year arrived

 

Of his return (by the decree of heav'n)

 

To Ithaca, not even then had he,

 

Although surrounded by his people, reach'd

 

The period of his suff'rings and his toils.

 

Yet all the Gods, with pity moved, beheld

 

His woes, save Neptune; He alone with wrath

 

Unceasing and implacable pursued

 

Godlike Ulysses to his native shores.

 

But Neptune, now, the Æthiopians fought, 30 (The Æthiopians, utmost of mankind,

 

These Eastward situate, those toward the West)

 

Call'd to an hecatomb of bulls and lambs.

 

There sitting, pleas'd he banqueted; the Gods

 

In Jove's abode, meantime, assembled all,

 

'Midst whom the Sire of heav'n and earth began.

 

For he recall'd to mind Ægisthus slain

 

By Agamemnon's celebrated son

 

Orestes, and retracing in his thought

 

That dread event, the Immortals thus address'd. 40 Alas! how prone are human-kind to blame

 

The Pow'rs of Heav'n! From us, they say, proceed

 

The ills which they endure, yet more than Fate

 

Herself inflicts, by their own crimes incur.

 

So now Ægisthus, by no force constrained

 

Of Destiny, Atrides' wedded wife

 

Took to himself, and him at his return

 

Slew, not unwarn'd of his own dreadful end

 

By us: for we commanded Hermes down

 

The watchful Argicide, who bade him fear 50 Alike, to slay the King, or woo the Queen.

 

For that Atrides' son Orestes, soon

 

As grown mature, and eager to assume

 

His sway imperial, should avenge the deed.

 

So Hermes spake, but his advice moved not

 

Ægisthus, on whose head the whole arrear

 

Of vengeance heap'd, at last, hath therefore fall'n.

 

Whom answer'd then Pallas cærulean-eyed.

 

Oh Jove, Saturnian Sire, o'er all supreme!

 

And well he merited the death he found; 60 So perish all, who shall, like him, offend.

 

But with a bosom anguish-rent I view

 

Ulysses, hapless Chief! who from his friends

 

Remote, affliction hath long time endured

 

In yonder woodland isle, the central boss

 

Of Ocean. That retreat a Goddess holds,

 

Daughter of sapient Atlas, who the abyss

 

Knows to its bottom, and the pillars high

 

Himself upbears which sep'rate earth from heav'n.

 

His daughter, there, the sorrowing Chief detains, 70 And ever with smooth speech insidious seeks

 

To wean his heart from Ithaca; meantime

 

Ulysses, happy might he but behold

 

The smoke ascending from his native land,

 

Death covets. Canst thou not, Olympian Jove!

 

At last relent? Hath not Ulysses oft

 

With victims slain amid Achaia's fleet

 

Thee gratified, while yet at Troy he fought?

 

How hath he then so deep incensed thee, Jove?

 

To whom, the cloud-assembler God replied. 80 What word hath pass'd thy lips, Daughter belov'd?

 

Can I forget Ulysses? Him forget

 

So noble, who in wisdom all mankind

 

Excels, and who hath sacrific'd so oft

 

To us whose dwelling is the boundless heav'n?

 

Earth-circling Neptune-He it is whose wrath

 

Pursues him ceaseless for the Cyclops' sake

 

Polypheme, strongest of the giant race,

 

Whom of his eye Ulysses hath deprived.

 

For Him, Thoösa bore, Nymph of the sea 90 From Phorcys sprung, by Ocean's mighty pow'r

 

Impregnated in caverns of the Deep.

 

E'er since that day, the Shaker of the shores,

 

Although he slay him not, yet devious drives

 

Ulysses from his native isle afar.

 

Yet come-in full assembly his return

 

Contrive we now, both means and prosp'rous end;

 

So Neptune shall his wrath remit, whose pow'r

 

In contest with the force of all the Gods

 

Exerted single, can but strive in vain. 100 To whom Minerva, Goddess azure-eyed.

 

Oh Jupiter! above all Kings enthroned!

 

If the Immortals ever-blest ordain

 

That wise Ulysses to his home return,

 

Dispatch we then Hermes the Argicide,

 

Our messenger, hence to Ogygia's isle,

 

Who shall inform Calypso, nymph divine,

 

Of this our fixt resolve, that to his home

 

Ulysses, toil-enduring Chief, repair.

 

Myself will hence to Ithaca, meantime, 110 His son to animate, and with new force

 

Inspire, that (the Achaians all convened

 

In council,) he may, instant, bid depart

 

The suitors from his home, who, day by day,

 

His num'rous flocks and fatted herds consume.

 

And I will send him thence to Sparta forth,

 

And into sandy Pylus, there to hear

 

(If hear he may) some tidings of his Sire,

 

And to procure himself a glorious name.

 

This said, her golden sandals to her feet 120 She bound, ambrosial, which o'er all the earth

 

And o'er the moist flood waft her fleet as air,

 

Then, seizing her strong spear pointed with brass,

 

In length and bulk, and weight a matchless beam,

 

With which the Jove-born Goddess levels ranks

 

Of Heroes, against whom her anger burns,

 

From the Olympian summit down she flew,

 

And on the threshold of Ulysses' hall

 

In Ithaca, and within his vestibule

 

Apparent stood; there, grasping her bright spear, 130 Mentes[1] she seem'd, the hospitable Chief

 

Of Taphos' isle-she found the haughty throng

 

The suitors; they before the palace gate

 

With iv'ry cubes sported, on num'rous hides

 

Reclined of oxen which themselves had slain.

 

The heralds and the busy menials there

 

Minister'd to them; these their mantling cups

 

With water slaked; with bibulous sponges those

 

Made clean the tables, set the banquet on,

 

And portioned out to each his plenteous share. 140 Long ere the rest Telemachus himself

 

Mark'd her, for sad amid them all he sat,

 

Pourtraying in deep thought contemplative

 

His noble Sire, and questioning if yet

 

Perchance the Hero might return to chase

 

From all his palace that imperious herd,

 

To his own honour lord of his own home.

 

Amid them musing thus, sudden he saw

 

The Goddess, and sprang forth, for he abhorr'd

 

To see a guest's admittance long delay'd; 150 Approaching eager, her right hand he seized,

 

The brazen spear took from her, and in words

 

With welcome wing'd Minerva thus address'd.

 

Stranger, all hail! to share our cordial love

 

Thou com'st; the banquet finish'd, thou shalt next

 

Inform me wherefore thou hast here arrived.

 

So saying, toward the spacious hall he moved,

 

Follow'd by Pallas, and, arriving soon

 

Beneath the lofty roof, placed her bright spear

 

Within a pillar's cavity, long time 160 The armoury where many a spear had stood,

 

Bright weapons of his own illustrious Sire.

 

Then, leading her toward a footstool'd throne

 

Magnificent, which first he overspread

 

With linen, there he seated her, apart

 

From that rude throng, and for himself disposed

 

A throne of various colours at her side,

 

Lest, stunn'd with clamour of the lawless band,

 

The new-arrived should loth perchance to eat,

 

And that more free he might the stranger's ear 170 With questions of his absent Sire address,

 

And now a maiden charg'd with golden ew'r,

 

And with an argent laver, pouring first

 

Pure water on their hands, supplied them, next,

 

With a resplendent table, which the chaste

 

Directress of the stores furnish'd with bread

 

And dainties, remnants of the last regale.

 

Then, in his turn, the sewer[2] with sav'ry meats,

 

Dish after dish, served them, of various kinds,

 

And golden cups beside the chargers placed, 180 Which the attendant herald fill'd with wine.

 

Ere long, in rush'd the suitors, and the thrones

 

And couches occupied, on all whose hands

 

The heralds pour'd pure water; then the maids

 

Attended them with bread in baskets heap'd,

 

And eager they assail'd the ready feast.

 

At length, when neither thirst nor hunger more

 

They felt unsatisfied, to new delights

 

Their thoughts they turn'd, to song and sprightly dance, Enlivening sequel of the banquet's joys. 190 An herald, then, to Phemius' hand consign'd

 

His beauteous lyre; he through constraint regaled

 

The suitors with his song, and while the chords

 

He struck in prelude to his pleasant strains,

 

Telemachus his head inclining nigh

 

To Pallas' ear, lest others should his words

 

Witness, the blue-eyed Goddess thus bespake.

 

My inmate and my friend! far from my lips

 

Be ev'ry word that might displease thine ear!

 

The song-the harp, — what can they less than charm 200 These wantons? who the bread unpurchased eat

 

Of one whose bones on yonder continent

 

Lie mould'ring, drench'd by all the show'rs of heaven,

 

Or roll at random in the billowy deep.

 

Ah! could they see him once to his own isle

 

Restored, both gold and raiment they would wish

 

Far less, and nimbleness of foot instead.

 

But He, alas! hath by a wretched fate,

 

Past question perish'd, and what news soe'er

 

We hear of his return, kindles no hope 210 In us, convinced that he returns no more.

 

But answer undissembling; tell me true;

 

Who art thou? whence? where stands thy city? where

 

Thy father's mansion? In what kind of ship

 

Cam'st thou? Why steer'd the mariners their course

 

To Ithaca, and of what land are they?

 

For that on foot thou found'st us not, is sure.

 

This also tell me, hast thou now arrived

 

New to our isle, or wast thou heretofore

 

My father's guest? Since many to our house 220 Resorted in those happier days, for he

 

Drew pow'rful to himself the hearts of all.

 

Then Pallas thus, Goddess cærulean-eyed.

 

I will with all simplicity of truth

 

Thy questions satisfy. Behold in me

 

Mentes, the offspring of a Chief renown'd

 

In war, Anchialus; and I rule, myself,

 

An island race, the Taphians oar-expert.

 

With ship and mariners I now arrive,

 

Seeking a people of another tongue 230 Athwart the gloomy flood, in quest of brass

 

For which I barter steel, ploughing the waves

 

To Temesa. My ship beneath the woods

 

Of Neïus, at yonder field that skirts

 

Your city, in the haven Rhethrus rides.

 

We are hereditary guests; our Sires

 

Were friends long since; as, when thou seest him next,

 

The Hero old Laertes will avouch,

 

Of whom, I learn, that he frequents no more

 

The city now, but in sequester'd scenes 240 Dwells sorrowful, and by an antient dame

 

With food and drink supplied oft as he feels

 

Refreshment needful to him, while he creeps

 

Between the rows of his luxuriant vines.

 

But I have come drawn hither by report,

 

Which spake thy Sire arrived, though still it seems

 

The adverse Gods his homeward course retard.

 

For not yet breathless lies the noble Chief,

 

But in some island of the boundless flood

 

Resides a prisoner, by barbarous force 250 Of some rude race detained reluctant there.

 

And I will now foreshow thee what the Gods

 

Teach me, and what, though neither augur skill'd

 

Nor prophet, I yet trust shall come to pass.

 

He shall not, henceforth, live an exile long

 

From his own shores, no, not although in bands

 

Of iron held, but will ere long contrive

 

His own return; for in expedients, framed

 

With wond'rous ingenuity, he abounds.

 

But tell me true; art thou, in stature such, 260 Son of himself Ulysses? for thy face

 

And eyes bright-sparkling, strongly indicate

 

Ulysses in thee. Frequent have we both

 

Conversed together thus, thy Sire and I,

 

Ere yet he went to Troy, the mark to which

 

So many Princes of Achaia steer'd.

 

Him since I saw not, nor Ulysses me.

 

To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied.

 

Stranger! I tell thee true; my mother's voice

 

Affirms me his, but since no mortal knows 270 His derivation, I affirm it not.

 

Would I had been son of some happier Sire,

 

Ordain'd in calm possession of his own

 

To reach the verge of life. But now, report

 

Proclaims me his, whom I of all mankind

 

Unhappiest deem.-Thy question is resolved.

 

Then answer thus Pallas blue-eyed return'd.

 

From no ignoble race, in future days,

 

The Gods shall prove thee sprung, whom so endow'd

 

With ev'ry grace Penelope hath borne. 280 But tell me true. What festival is this?

 

This throng-whence are they? wherefore hast thou need

 

Of such a multitude? Behold I here

 

A banquet, or a nuptial? for these

 

Meet not by contribution[3] to regale,

 

With such brutality and din they hold

 

Their riotous banquet! a wise man and good

 

Arriving, now, among them, at the sight

 

Of such enormities would much be wroth.

 

To whom replied Telemachus discrete. 290 Since, stranger! thou hast ask'd, learn also this.

 

While yet Ulysses, with his people dwelt,

 

His presence warranted the hope that here

 

Virtue should dwell and opulence; but heav'n

 

Hath cast for us, at length, a diff'rent lot,

 

And he is lost, as never man before.

 

For I should less lament even his death,

 

Had he among his friends at Ilium fall'n,

 

Or in the arms of his companions died,

 

Troy's siege accomplish'd. Then his tomb the Greeks 300 Of ev'ry tribe had built, and for his son,

 

He had immortal glory atchieved; but now,

 

By harpies torn inglorious, beyond reach

 

Of eye or ear he lies; and hath to me

 

Grief only, and unceasing sighs bequeath'd.

 

Nor mourn I for his sake alone; the Gods

 

Have plann'd for me still many a woe beside;

 

For all the rulers of the neighbour isles,

 

Samos, Dulichium, and the forest-crown'd

 

Zacynthus, others also, rulers here 310 In craggy Ithaca, my mother seek

 

In marriage, and my household stores consume.

 

But neither she those nuptial rites abhorr'd,

 

Refuses absolute, nor yet consents

 

To end them; they my patrimony waste

 

Meantime, and will not long spare even me.

 

To whom, with deep commiseration pang'd,

 

Pallas replied. Alas! great need hast thou

 

Of thy long absent father to avenge

 

These num'rous wrongs; for could he now appear 320 There, at yon portal, arm'd with helmet, shield,

 

And grasping his two spears, such as when first

 

I saw him drinking joyous at our board,

 

From Ilus son of Mermeris, who dwelt

 

In distant Ephyre, just then return'd,

 

(For thither also had Ulysses gone

 

In his swift bark, seeking some pois'nous drug

 

Wherewith to taint his brazen arrows keen,

 

Which drug through fear of the eternal Gods

 

Ilus refused him, and my father free 330 Gave to him, for he loved him past belief)

 

Could now, Ulysses, clad in arms as then,

 

Mix with these suitors, short his date of life

 

To each, and bitter should his nuptials prove.

 

But these events, whether he shall return

 

To take just vengeance under his own roof,

 

Or whether not, lie all in the Gods lap.

 

Meantime I counsel thee, thyself to think

 

By what means likeliest thou shalt expel

 

These from thy doors. Now mark me: close attend. 340 To-morrow, summoning the Grecian Chiefs

 

To council, speak to them, and call the Gods

 

To witness that solemnity. Bid go

 

The suitors hence, each to his own abode.

 

Thy mother-if her purpose be resolved

 

On marriage, let her to the house return

 

Of her own potent father, who, himself,

 

Shall furnish forth her matrimonial rites,

 

And ample dow'r, such as it well becomes

 

A darling daughter to receive, bestow. 350 But hear me now; thyself I thus advise.

 

The prime of all thy ships preparing, mann'd

 

With twenty rowers, voyage hence to seek

 

Intelligence of thy long-absent Sire.

 

Some mortal may inform thee, or a word,[4]

 

Perchance, by Jove directed (safest source

 

Of notice to mankind) may reach thine ear.

 

First voyaging to Pylus, there enquire

 

Of noble Nestor; thence to Sparta tend,

 

To question Menelaus amber-hair'd, 360 Latest arrived of all the host of Greece.

 

There should'st thou learn that still thy father lives, And hope of his return, although

 

Distress'd, thou wilt be patient yet a year.

 

But should'st thou there hear tidings that he breathes

 

No longer, to thy native isle return'd,

 

First heap his tomb; then with such pomp perform

 

His funeral rites as his great name demands,

 

And make thy mother's spousals, next, thy care.

 

These duties satisfied, delib'rate last 370 Whether thou shalt these troublers of thy house

 

By stratagem, or by assault, destroy.

 

For thou art now no child, nor longer may'st

 

Sport like one. Hast thou not the proud report

 

Heard, how Orestes hath renown acquired

 

With all mankind, his father's murtherer

 

Ægisthus slaying, the deceiver base

 

Who slaughter'd Agamemnon? Oh my friend!

 

(For with delight thy vig'rous growth I view,

 

And just proportion) be thou also bold, 380 And merit praise from ages yet to come.

 

But I will to my vessel now repair,

 

And to my mariners, whom, absent long,

 

I may perchance have troubled. Weigh thou well

 

My counsel; let not my advice be lost.

 

To whom Telemachus discrete replied.

 

Stranger! thy words bespeak thee much my friend,

 

Who, as a father teaches his own son,

 

Hast taught me, and I never will forget.

 

But, though in haste thy voyage to pursue, 390 Yet stay, that in the bath refreshing first

 

Thy limbs now weary, thou may'st sprightlier seek

 

Thy gallant bark, charged with some noble gift

 

Of finish'd workmanship, which thou shalt keep

 

As my memorial ever; such a boon

 

As men confer on guests whom much they love.

 

Then Pallas thus, Goddess cærulean-eyed.

 

Retard me not, for go I must; the gift

 

Which liberal thou desirest to bestow,

 

Give me at my return, that I may bear 400 The treasure home; and, in exchange, thyself

 

Expect some gift equivalent from me.

 

She spake, and as with eagle-wings upborne,

 

Vanish'd incontinent, but him inspired

 

With daring fortitude, and on his heart

 

Dearer remembrance of his Sire impress'd

 

Than ever. Conscious of the wond'rous change,

 

Amazed he stood, and, in his secret thought

 

Revolving all, believed his guest a God.

 

The youthful Hero to the suitors then 410 Repair'd; they silent, listen'd to the song

 

Of the illustrious Bard: he the return

 

Deplorable of the Achaian host

 

From Ilium by command of Pallas, sang.

 

Penelope, Icarius' daughter, mark'd

 

Meantime the song celestial, where she sat

 

In the superior palace; down she came,

 

By all the num'rous steps of her abode;

 

Not sole, for two fair handmaids follow'd her.

 

She then, divinest of her sex, arrived 420 In presence of that lawless throng, beneath

 

The portal of her stately mansion stood,

 

Between her maidens, with her lucid veil

 

Her lovely features mantling. There, profuse

 

She wept, and thus the sacred bard bespake.

 

Phemius! for many a sorrow-soothing strain

 

Thou know'st beside, such as exploits record

 

Of Gods and men, the poet's frequent theme;

 

Give them of those a song, and let themselves

 

Their wine drink noiseless; but this mournful strain 430 Break off, unfriendly to my bosom's peace,

 

And which of all hearts nearest touches mine,

 

With such regret my dearest Lord I mourn,

 

Rememb'ring still an husband praised from side

 

To side, and in the very heart of Greece.

 

Then answer thus Telemachus return'd.

 

My mother! wherefore should it give thee pain

 

If the delightful bard that theme pursue

 

To which he feels his mind impell'd? the bard

 

Blame not, but rather Jove, who, as he wills, 440 Materials for poetic art supplies.

 

No fault is his, if the disastrous fate

 

He sing of the Achaians, for the song

 

Wins ever from the hearers most applause

 

That has been least in use. Of all who fought

 

At Troy, Ulysses hath not lost, alone,

 

His day of glad return; but many a Chief

 

Hath perish'd also. Seek thou then again

 

Thy own apartment, spindle ply and loom,

 

And task thy maidens; management belongs 450 To men of joys convivial, and of men

 

Especially to me, chief ruler here.

 

She heard astonish'd; and the prudent speech

 

Reposing of her son deep in her heart,

 

Again with her attendant maidens sought

 

Her upper chamber. There arrived, she wept

 

Her lost Ulysses, till Minerva bathed

 

Her weary lids in dewy sleep profound.

 

Then echoed through the palace dark-bedimm'd

 

With evening shades the suitors boist'rous roar, 460 For each the royal bed burn'd to partake,

 

Whom thus Telemachus discrete address'd.

 

All ye my mother's suitors, though addict

 

To contumacious wrangling fierce, suspend

 

Your clamour, for a course to me it seems

 

More decent far, when such a bard as this,

 

Godlike, for sweetness, sings, to hear his song.

 

To-morrow meet we in full council all,

 

That I may plainly warn you to depart

 

From this our mansion. Seek ye where ye may 470 Your feasts; consume your own; alternate feed

 

Each at the other's cost; but if it seem

 

Wisest in your account and best, to eat

 

Voracious thus the patrimonial goods

 

Of one man, rend'ring no account of all,[5]

 

Bite to the roots; but know that I will cry

 

Ceaseless to the eternal Gods, in hope

 

That Jove, for retribution of the wrong,

 

Shall doom you, where ye have intruded, there

 

To bleed, and of your blood ask no account. 480 He ended, and each gnaw'd his lip, aghast

 

At his undaunted hardiness of speech.

 

Then thus Antinoüs spake, Eupithes' son.

 

Telemachus! the Gods, methinks, themselves

 

Teach thee sublimity, and to pronounce

 

Thy matter fearless. Ah forbid it, Jove!

 

That one so eloquent should with the weight

 

Of kingly cares in Ithaca be charged,

 

A realm, by claim hereditary, thine.

 

Then prudent thus Telemachus replied. 490 Although my speech Antinoüs may, perchance,

 

Provoke thee, know that I am not averse

 

From kingly cares, if Jove appoint me such.

 

Seems it to thee a burthen to be fear'd

 

By men above all others? trust me, no,

 

There is no ill in royalty; the man

 

So station'd, waits not long ere he obtain

 

Riches and honour. But I grant that Kings

 

Of the Achaians may no few be found

 

In sea-girt Ithaca both young and old, 500 Of whom since great Ulysses is no more,

 

Reign whoso may; but King, myself, I am

 

In my own house, and over all my own

 

Domestics, by Ulysses gained for me.

 

To whom Eurymachus replied, the son

 

Of Polybus. What Grecian Chief shall reign

 

In sea-girt Ithaca, must be referr'd

 

To the Gods' will, Telemachus! meantime

 

Thou hast unquestionable right to keep

 

Thy own, and to command in thy own house. 510 May never that man on her shores arrive,

 

While an inhabitant shall yet be left

 

In Ithaca, who shall by violence wrest

 

Thine from thee. But permit me, noble Sir!

 

To ask thee of thy guest. Whence came the man?

 

What country claims him? Where are to be found

 

His kindred and his patrimonial fields?

 

Brings he glad tidings of thy Sire's approach

 

Homeward? or came he to receive a debt

 

Due to himself? How swift he disappear'd! 520 Nor opportunity to know him gave

 

To those who wish'd it; for his face and air

 

Him speak not of Plebeian birth obscure.

 

Whom answered thus Telemachus discrete.

 

Eurymachus! my father comes no more.

 

I can no longer now tidings believe,

 

If such arrive; nor he'd I more the song

 

Of sooth-sayers whom my mother may consult.

 

But this my guest hath known in other days

 

My father, and he came from Taphos, son 530 Of brave Anchialus, Mentes by name,

 

And Chief of the sea-practis'd Taphian race.

 

So spake Telemachus, but in his heart

 

Knew well his guest a Goddess from the skies.

 

Then they to dance and heart-enlivening song

 

Turn'd joyous, waiting the approach of eve,

 

And dusky evening found them joyous still.

 

Then each, to his own house retiring, sought

 

Needful repose. Meantime Telemachus

 

To his own lofty chamber, built in view 540 Of the wide hall, retired; but with a heart

 

In various musings occupied intense.

 

Sage Euryclea, bearing in each hand

 

A torch, preceded him; her sire was Ops,

 

Pisenor's son, and, in her early prime,

 

At his own cost Laertes made her his,

 

Paying with twenty beeves her purchase-price,

 

Nor in less honour than his spotless wife

 

He held her ever, but his consort's wrath

 

Fearing, at no time call'd her to his bed. 550 She bore the torches, and with truer heart

 

Loved him than any of the female train,

 

For she had nurs'd him in his infant years.

 

He open'd his broad chamber-valves, and sat

 

On his couch-side: then putting off his vest

 

Of softest texture, placed it in the hands

 

Of the attendant dame discrete, who first

 

Folding it with exactest care, beside

 

His bed suspended it, and, going forth,

 

Drew by its silver ring the portal close, 560 And fasten'd it with bolt and brace secure.

 

There lay Telemachus, on finest wool

 

Reposed, contemplating all night his course

 

Prescribed by Pallas to the Pylian shore.