But swear, impartial arbiters of right,

Swear to stand neutral, while we cope in fight.”


The peers assent: when straight his sacred head

Telemachus upraised, and sternly said:

“Stranger, if prompted to chastise the wrong

Of this bold insolent, confide, be strong!

The injurious Greek that dares attempt a blow,

That instant makes Telemachus his foe;

And these my friends shall guard the sacred ties

Of hospitality, for they are wise.”


Then, girding his strong loins, the king prepares

To close in combat, and his body bares;

Broad spread his shoulders, and his nervous thighs

By just degrees, like well-turn’d columns, rise

Ample his chest, his arms are round and long,

And each strong joint Minerva knits more strong

(Attendant on her chief): the suitor-crowd

With wonder gaze, and gazing speak aloud:

“Irus! alas! shall Irus be no more?

Black fate impends, and this the avenging hour!

Gods! how his nerves a matchless strength proclaim,

Swell o’er his well-strong limbs, and brace his frame!”


Then pale with fears, and sickening at the sight;

They dragg’d the unwilling Irus to the fight;

From his blank visage fled the coward blood,

And his flesh trembled as aghast he stood.


“O that such baseness should disgrace the light?

O hide it, death, in everlasting night!

(Exclaims Antinous;) can a vigorous foe

Meanly decline to combat age and woe?

But hear me wretch! if recreant in the fray

That huge bulk yield this ill-contested day,

Instant thou sail’st, to Eschetus resign’d;

A tyrant, fiercest of the tyrant kind,

Who casts thy mangled ears and nose a prey

To hungry dogs, and lops the man away.”


While with indignant scorn he sternly spoke,

In every joint the trembling Irus shook.

Now front to front each frowning champion stands,

And poises high in air his adverse hands.

The chief yet doubts, or to the shades below

To fell the giant at one vengeful blow,

Or save his life, and soon his life to save