The Odyssey of Homer. Homer

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       To foreign States, oft hazard life themselves?

       Him answer’d, bolder now, but still discrete,

       Telemachus. For Pallas had his heart

       With manly courage arm’d, that he might ask

       From Nestor tidings of his absent Sire,

       And win, himself, distinction and renown.

       Oh Nestor, Neleus’ son, glory of Greece!

       Thou askest whence we are. I tell thee whence. 100

       From Ithaca, by the umbrageous woods

       Of Neritus o’erhung, by private need,

       Not public, urged, we come. My errand is

       To seek intelligence of the renown’d

       Ulysses; of my noble father, prais’d

       For dauntless courage, whom report proclaims

       Conqueror, with thine aid, of sacred Troy.

       We have already learn’d where other Chiefs

       Who fought at Ilium, died; but Jove conceals

       Even the death of my illustrious Sire 110

       In dull obscurity; for none hath heard

       Or confident can answer, where he dy’d;

       Whether he on the continent hath fall’n

       By hostile hands, or by the waves o’erwhelm’d

       Of Amphitrite, welters in the Deep.

       For this cause, at thy knees suppliant, I beg

       That thou would’st tell me his disast’rous end,

       If either thou beheld’st that dread event

       Thyself, or from some wanderer of the Greeks

       Hast heard it: for my father at his birth 120

       Was, sure, predestin’d to no common woes.

       Neither through pity, or o’erstrain’d respect

       Flatter me, but explicit all relate

       Which thou hast witness’d. If my noble Sire

       E’er gratified thee by performance just

       Of word or deed at Ilium, where ye fell

       So num’rous slain in fight, oh, recollect

       Now his fidelity, and tell me true.

       Then Nestor thus Gerenian Hero old.

       Young friend! since thou remind’st me, speaking thus, 130

       Of all the woes which indefatigable

       We sons of the Achaians there sustain’d,

       Both those which wand’ring on the Deep we bore

       Wherever by Achilles led in quest

       Of booty, and the many woes beside

       Which under royal Priam’s spacious walls

       We suffer’d, know, that there our bravest fell.

       There warlike Ajax lies, there Peleus’ son;

       There, too, Patroclus, like the Gods themselves

       In council, and my son beloved there, 140

       Brave, virtuous, swift of foot, and bold in fight,

       Antilochus. Nor are these sorrows all;

       What tongue of mortal man could all relate?

       Should’st thou, abiding here, five years employ

       Or six, enquiring of the woes endured

       By the Achaians, ere thou should’st have learn’d

       The whole, thou would’st depart, tir’d of the tale.

       For we, nine years, stratagems of all kinds

       Devised against them, and Saturnian Jove

       Scarce crown’d the difficult attempt at last. 150

       There, no competitor in wiles well-plann’d

       Ulysses found, so far were all surpass’d

       In shrewd invention by thy noble Sire,

       If thou indeed art his, as sure thou art,

       Whose sight breeds wonder in me, and thy speech

       His speech resembles more than might be deem’d

       Within the scope of years so green as thine.

       There, never in opinion, or in voice

       Illustrious Ulysses and myself

       Divided were, but, one in heart, contrived 160

       As best we might, the benefit of all.

       But after Priam’s lofty city sack’d,

       And the departure of the Greeks on board

       Their barks, and when the Gods had scatter’d them,

       Then Jove imagin’d for the Argive host

       A sorrowful return; for neither just

       Were all, nor prudent, therefore many found

       A fate disast’rous through the vengeful ire

       Of Jove-born Pallas, who between the sons

       Of Atreus sharp contention interposed. 170

       They both, irregularly, and against

       Just order, summoning by night the Greeks

       To council, of whom many came with wine

       Oppress’d, promulgated the cause for which

       They had convened the people. Then it was

       That Menelaus bade the general host

       Their thoughts bend homeward o’er the sacred Deep,

       Which Agamemnon in no sort approved.

       His counsel was to slay them yet at Troy,

       That so he might assuage the dreadful wrath 180

       Of Pallas, first, by sacrifice and pray’r.

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