No More Learning

That glorious mantle much I noticed, soft 290
To touch, as the dried garlick's glossy film;
Such was the smoothness of it, and it shone
Sun-bright; full many a maiden, trust me, view'd
The splendid texture with admiring eyes.
But mark me now; deep treasure in thy mind
This word. I know not if Ulysses wore
That cloak at home, or whether of his train
Some warrior gave it to him on his way,
Or else some host of his; for many loved
Ulysses, and with him might few compare. 300
I gave to him, myself, a brazen sword,
A purple cloak magnificent, and vest
Of royal length, and when he sought his bark,
With princely pomp dismiss'd him from the shore.
An herald also waited on the Chief,
Somewhat his Senior; him I next describe.
His back was bunch'd, his visage swarthy, curl'd
His poll, and he was named Eurybates;
A man whom most of all his followers far
Ulysses honour'd, for their minds were one. 310
He ceased; she recognising all the proofs
Distinctly by Ulysses named, was moved
Still more to weep, till with o'erflowing grief
Satiate, at length she answer'd him again.
Henceforth, O stranger, thou who hadst before
My pity, shalt my rev'rence share and love,
I folded for him (with these hands) the cloak
Which thou describ'st, produced it when he went,
And gave it to him; I that splendid clasp
Attach'd to it myself, more to adorn 320
My honour'd Lord, whom to his native land
Return'd secure I shall receive no more.
In such an evil hour Ulysses went
To that bad city never to be named.
To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.
Consort revered of Laertiades!
No longer let anxiety impair
Thy beauteous form, nor any grief consume
Thy spirits more for thy Ulysses' sake.
And yet I blame thee not; a wife deprived 330
Of her first mate to whom she had produced
Fair fruit of mutual love, would mourn his loss,
Although he were inferior far to thine,
Whom fame affirms the semblance of the Gods.
But cease to mourn. Hear me.
I will relate
A faithful tale, nor will from thee withhold
Such tidings of Ulysses living still,
And of his safe return, as I have heard
Lately, in yon neighb'ring opulent land
Of the Thesprotians. He returns enrich'd 340
With many precious stores from those obtain'd
Whom he hath visited; but he hath lost,
Departing from Thrinacia's isle, his bark
And all his lov'd companions in the Deep,
For Jove was adverse to him, and the Sun,
Whose beeves his followers slew. They perish'd all
Amid the billowy flood; but Him, the keel
Bestriding of his bark, the waves at length
Cast forth on the Phaeacian's land, a race
Allied to heav'n, who rev'renced like a God 350
Thy husband, honour'd him with num'rous gifts,
And willing were to have convey'd him home.
Ulysses, therefore, had attained long since
His native shore, but that he deem'd it best
To travel far, that he might still amass
More wealth; so much Ulysses all mankind
Excels in policy, and hath no peer.
This information from Thesprotia's King
I gain'd, from Phidon; to myself he swore,
Libation off'ring under his own roof, 360
That both the bark was launch'd, and the stout crew
Prepared, that should conduct him to his home.
But me he first dismiss'd; for, as it chanced,
A ship lay there of the Thesprotians, bound
To corn-enrich'd Dulichium. All the wealth
He shew'd me by the Chief amass'd, a store
To feed the house of yet another Prince
To the tenth generation; so immense
His treasures were within that palace lodg'd.
Himself he said was to Dodona gone, 370
Counsel to ask from the oracular oaks
Sublime of Jove, how safest he might seek,
After long exile thence, his native land,
If openly were best, or in disguise.
Thus, therefore, he is safe, and at his home
Well-nigh arrived, nor shall his country long
Want him. I swear it with a solemn oath.
First Jove be witness, King and Lord of all!
Next these domestic Gods of the renown'd
Ulysses, in whose royal house I sit, 380
That thou shalt see my saying all fulfill'd.
Ulysses shall this self-same year return,
This self-same month, ere yet the next begin.
Him answer'd then Penelope discrete.
Grant heav'n, my guest, that this good word of thine
Fail not! then, soon shalt thou such bounty share
And friendship at my hands, that, at first sight,
Whoe'er shall meet thee shall pronounce thee blest.