And each in jovial mood his mate address’d:


“Tremble ye not, O friends, and coward fly,

Doom’d by the stern Telemachus to die?

To Pyle or Sparta to demand supplies,

Big with revenge, the mighty warrior flies;

Or comes from Ephyre with poisons fraught,

And kills us all in one tremendous draught!”


“Or who can say (his gamesome mate replies)

But, while the danger of the deeps he tries

He, like his sire, may sink deprived of breath,

And punish us unkindly by his death?

What mighty labours would he then create,

To seize his treasures, and divide his state,

The royal palace to the queen convey,

Or him she blesses in the bridal day!”


Meantime the lofty rooms the prince surveys,

Where lay the treasures of the Ithacian race:

Here ruddy brass and gold refulgent blazed;

There polished chests embroider’d vestures graced;

Here jars of oil breathed forth a rich perfume;

There casks of wine in rows adorn’d the dome

(Pure flavorous wine, by gods in bounty given

And worthy to exalt the feasts of heaven).

Untouch’d they stood, till, his long labours o’er,

The great Ulysses reach’d his native shore.

A double strength of bars secured the gates;

Fast by the door the wise Euryclea waits;

Euryclea, who great Ops! thy lineage shared,

And watch’d all night, all day, a faithful guard.


To whom the prince: “O thou whose guardian care

Nursed the most wretched king that breathes the air;

Untouch’d and sacred may these vessels stand,

Till great Ulysses views his native land.

But by thy care twelve urns of wine be fill’d;

Next these in worth, and firm these urns be seal’d;

And twice ten measures of the choicest flour

Prepared, ere yet descends the evening hour.

For when the favouring shades of night arise,

And peaceful slumbers close my mother’s eyes,

Me from our coast shall spreading sails convey,

To seek Ulysses through the watery way.”


While yet he spoke, she fill’d the walls with cries,