To share our feast, and lead the life of kings.”


To whom the hospitable swain rejoins:

“Thy passion, prince, belies thy knowing mind.

Who calls, from distant nations to his own,

The poor, distinguish’d by their wants alone?

Round the wide world are sought those men divine

Who public structures raise, or who design;

Those to whose eyes the gods their ways reveal,

Or bless with salutary arts to heal;

But chief to poets such respect belongs,

By rival nations courted for their songs;

These states invite, and mighty kings admire,

Wide as the sun displays his vital fire.

It is not so with want! how few that feed

A wretch unhappy, merely for his need!

Unjust to me, and all that serve the state,

To love Ulysses is to raise thy hate.

For me, suffice the approbation won

Of my great mistress, and her godlike son.”


To him Telemachus: “No more incense

The man by nature prone to insolence:

Injurious minds just answers but provoke”—

Then turning to Antinous, thus he spoke:

“Thanks to thy care! whose absolute command

Thus drives the stranger from our court and land.

Heaven bless its owner with a better mind!

From envy free, to charity inclined.

This both Penelope and I afford:

Then, prince! be bounteous of Ulysses’ board.

To give another’s is thy hand so slow?

So much more sweet to spoil than to bestow?”


“Whence, great Telemachus! this lofty strain?

(Antinous cries with insolent disdain):

Portions like mine if every suitor gave,

Our walls this twelvemonth should not see the slave.”


He spoke, and lifting high above the board

His ponderous footstool, shook it at his lord.

The rest with equal hand conferr’d the bread:

He fill’d his scrip, and to the threshold sped;

But first before Antinous stopp’d, and said:

“Bestow, my friend! thou dost not seem the worst

Of all the Greeks, but prince-like and the first;

Then, as in dignity, be first in worth,