No More Learning

If they assent, e'en by this hand he dies;
If they forbid, I war not with the skies. "

He said: the rival train his voice approved,
And rising instant to the palace moved.
Arrived, with wild tumultuous noise they sate,
Recumbent on the shining thrones of state.

The Medon, conscious of their dire debates,
The murderous counsel to the queen relates.
Touch'd at the dreadful story, she descends:
Her hasty steps a damsel train attends.
Full where the dome its shining valves expands,
Sudden before the rival powers she stands;
And, veiling, decent, with a modest shade
Her cheek, indignant to Antinous said:

"O void of faith! of all bad men the worst!
Renown'd for wisdom, by the abuse accursed!
Mistaking fame proclaims thy generous mind:
Thy deeds denote thee of the basest kind.
Wretch! to destroy a prince that friendship gives,
While in his guest his murderer he receives;
Nor dread superior Jove, to whom belong
The cause of suppliants, and revenge of wrong.
Hast thou forgot, ungrateful as thou art,
Who saved thy father with a friendly part?
Lawless he ravaged with his martial powers
The Taphian pirates on Thesprotia's shores;
Enraged, his life, his treasures they demand;
Ulysses saved him from the avenger's hand.
And would'st thou evil for his good repay?
His bed dishonour, and his house betray?
Afflict his queen, and with a murderous hand
Destroy his heir! --but cease, 'tis I command. "

"Far hence those fears (Eurymachus replied,)
O prudent princess! bid thy soul confide.
Breathes there a man who dares that hero slay,
While I behold the golden light of day?
No: by the righteous powers of heaven I swear,
His blood in vengeance smokes upon my spear.
Ulysses, when my infant days I led,
With wine sufficed me, and with dainties fed:
My generous soul abhors the ungrateful part,
And my friend's son lives nearest to my heart.
Then fear no mortal arm; if Heaven destroy,
We must resign: for man is born to die. "

Thus smooth he ended, yet his death conspired:
Then sorrowing, with sad step the queen retired,
With streaming eyes, all comfortless deplored,
Touch'd with the dear remembrance of her lord:
Nor ceased till Pallas bids her sorrows fly,
And in soft slumber seal'd her flowing eye.

And now Eumaeus, at the evening hour,
Came late, returning to his sylvan bower.
Ulysses and his son had dress'd with art
A yearling boar, and gave the gods their part.
Holy repast! That instant from the skies
The martial goddess to Ulysses flies:
She waves her golden wand, and reassumes
From every feature every grace that blooms;
At once his vestures change; at once she sheds
Age o'er his limbs, that tremble as he treads:
Lest to the queen the swain with transport fly,
Unable to contain the unruly joy;
When near he drew, the prince breaks forth: "Proclaim
What tidings, friend? what speaks the voice of fame?
Say, if the suitors measure back the main,
Or still in ambush thirst for blood in vain? "

"Whether (he cries) they measure back the flood,
Or still in ambush thirst in vain for blood,
Escaped my care: where lawless suitors sway,
Thy mandate borne my soul disdain'd to stay.