This said, they, left him, tortured as he lay,

Secured the door, and hasty strode away:

Each, breathing death, resumed his dangerous post

Near great Ulysses; four against an host,

When lo! descending to her hero’s aid,

Jove’s daughter, Pallas, War’s triumphant maid:

In Mentor’s friendly form she join’d his side:

Ulysses saw, and thus with transport cried:


“Come, ever welcome, and thy succour lend;

O every sacred name in one, my friend!

Early we loved, and long our loves have grown;

Whate’er through life’s whole series I have done,

Or good, or grateful, now to mind recall,

And, aiding this one hour, repay it all.”


Thus he; but pleasing hopes his bosom warm

Of Pallas latent in the friendly form.

The adverse host the phantom-warrior eyed,

And first, loud-threatening, Agelaus cried:


“Mentor, beware, nor let that tongue persuade

Thy frantic arm to lend Ulysses aid;

Our force successful shall our threat make good,

And with the sire and son commix thy blood.

What hopest thou here? Thee first the sword shall slay,

Then lop thy whole posterity away;

Far hence thy banish’d consort shall we send;

With his thy forfeit lands and treasures blend;

Thus, and thus only, shalt thou join thy friend.”


His barbarous insult even the goddess fires,

Who thus the warrior to revenge inspires:


“Art thou Ulysses? where then shall we find

The patient body and the constant mind?

That courage, once the Trojans’ daily dread,

Known nine long years, and felt by heroes dead?

And where that conduct, which revenged the lust

Of Priam’s race, and laid proud Troy in dust?

If this, when Helen was the cause, were done;

What for thy country now, thy queen, thy son?

Rise then in combat, at my side attend;

Observe what vigour gratitude can lend,

And foes how weak, opposed against a friend!”


She spoke; but willing longer to survey

The sire and son’s great acts withheld the day!

By farther toils decreed the brave to try,