The Odysseys of Homer, together with the shorter poems. Homer

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       ‭ But long’d t’ approve what this man pointed at,

       ‭ And make his first proof in a cause so good;

       ‭ And in the council’s chief place up he stood;

       ‭ When straight Pisenor (herald to his sire,

       ‭ And learn’d in counsels) felt his heart on fire

       ‭ To hear him speak, and put into his hand

       ‭ The sceptre that his father did command;

       ‭ Then, to the old Egyptian turn’d, he spoke:

       ‭ “Father, not far he is that undertook

       ‭ To call this Council; whom you soon shall know.

       ‭ Myself, whose wrongs my griefs will make me show,

       ‭ Am he that author’d this assembly here.

       ‭ Nor have I heard of any army near,

       ‭ Of which, being first told, I might iterate,

       ‭ Nor for the public good can aught relate,

       ‭ Only mine own affairs all this procure,

       ‭ That in my house a double ill endure;

       ‭ One, having lost a father so renown’d,

       ‭ Whose kind rule once with’ your command was crown’d;

       ‭ The other is, what much more doth augment

       ‭ His weighty loss, the ruin imminent

       ‭ Of all my house by it, my goods all spent.

       ‭ And of all this the wooers, that are sons

       ‭ To our chief peers, are the confusións,

       ‭ Importuning my mother’s marriáge

       ‭ Against her will; nor dares their blood’s bold rage

       ‭ Go to Icarius’, her father’s, court,

       ‭ That, his will ask’d in kind and comely sort,

       ‭ He may endow his daughter with a dow’r,

       ‭ And, she consenting, at his pleasure’s pow’r

       ‭ Dispose her to a man, that, thus behav’d,

       ‭ May have fit grace, and see her honour sav’d.

       ‭ But these, in none but my house, all their lives

       ‭ Resolve to spend; slaught’ring my sheep and beeves,

       ‭ And with my fattest goats lay feast on feast,

       ‭ My gen’rous wine consuming as they list.

       ‭ A world of things they spoil, here wanting one,

       ‭ That, like Ulysses, quickly could set gone

       ‭ These peace-plagues from his house, that spoil like war;

       ‭ Whom my pow’rs are unfit to urge so far,

       ‭ Myself immartial. But, had I the pow’r,

       ‭ My will should serve me to exempt this hour

       ‭ From out my life-time. For, past patience,

       ‭ Base deeds are done here, that exceed defence

       ‭ Of any honour. Falling is my house,

       ‭ Which you should shame to see so ruinous.

       ‭ Rev’rence the censures that all good men give,

       ‭ That dwell about you; and for fear to live

       ‭ Expos’d to heav’n’s wrath (that doth ever pay

       ‭ Pains for joys forfeit) even by Jove I pray,

       ‭ Or Themis, both which pow’rs have to restrain,

       ‭ Or gather, councils, that ye will abstain

       ‭ From further spoil, and let me only waste

       ‭ In that most wretched grief I have embrac’d

       ‭ For my lost father. And though I am free

       ‭ From meriting your outrage, yet, if he,

       ‭ Good man, hath ever with a hostile heart

       ‭ Done ill to any Greek, on me convert

       ‭ Your like hostility, and vengeance take

       ‭ Of his ill on my life, and all these make

       ‭ Join in that justice; but, to see abus’d

       ‭ Those goods that do none ill but being ill-us’d,

       ‭ Exceeds all right. Yet better ’tis for me,

       ‭ My whole possessions and my rents to see

       ‭ Consum’d by you, than lose my life and all;

       ‭ For on your rapine a revenge may fall,

       ‭ While I live; and so long I may complain

       ‭ About the city, till my goods again,

       ‭ Oft ask’d, may be with all amends repaid.

       ‭ But in the mean space your misrule hath laid

       ‭ Griefs on my bosom, that can only speak,

       ‭ And are denied the instant pow’r of wreak.”

       ‭ This said, his sceptre ’gainst the ground he threw,

       ‭ And tears still’d from him; which mov’d all the crew,

       ‭ The court struck silent, not a man did dare

       ‭ To give a word that might offend his ear.

       ‭ Antinous only in this sort replied:

       ‭ “High spoken, and of spirit unpacified,

       ‭ How have you sham’d us in this speech of yours!

       ‭ Will you brand us for an offence not ours?

       ‭ Your mother, first in craft, is first in cause.

       ‭ Three years are past, and near the fourth now draws,

       ‭ Since first she mock’d the peers Achaian.

       ‭ All she made hope, and promis’d ev’ry СКАЧАТЬ