No More Learning

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.
Vain hope! he little thought how ill should speed
That fond attempt, for, once provok'd, the Gods
Are not with ease conciliated again.
Thus stood the brothers, altercation hot
Maintaining, till at length, uprose the Greeks
With deaf'ning clamours, and with diff'ring minds.
We slept the night, but teeming with disgust
Mutual, for Jove great woe prepar'd for all.
At dawn of day we drew our gallies down 190
Into the sea, and, hasty, put on board
The spoils and female captives. Half the host,
With Agamemnon, son of Atreus, stay'd
Supreme commander, and, embarking, half
Push'd forth. Swift course we made, for Neptune smooth'd
The waves before us of the monstrous Deep.
At Tenedos arriv'd, we there perform'd
Sacrifice to the Gods, ardent to reach
Our native land, but unpropitious Jove,
Not yet designing our arrival there, 200
Involved us in dissension fierce again.
For all the crews, followers of the King,
Thy noble Sire, to gratify our Chief,
The son of Atreus, chose a diff'rent course,
And steer'd their oary barks again to Troy.
But I, assured that evil from the Gods
Impended, gath'ring all my gallant fleet,
Fled thence in haste, and warlike Diomede
Exhorting his attendants, also fled.
At length, the Hero Menelaus join'd 210
Our fleets at Lesbos; there he found us held
In deep deliberation on the length
Of way before us, whether we should steer
Above the craggy Chios to the isle
Psyria, that island holding on our left,
Or under Chios by the wind-swept heights
Of Mimas. Then we ask'd from Jove a sign,
And by a sign vouchsafed he bade us cut
The wide sea to Euboea sheer athwart,
So soonest to escape the threat'ned harm. 220
Shrill sang the rising gale, and with swift prows
Cleaving the fishy flood, we reach'd by night
Geraestus, where arrived, we burn'd the thighs
Of num'rous bulls to Neptune, who had safe
Conducted us through all our perilous course.
The fleet of Diomede in safety moor'd
On the fourth day at Argos, but myself
Held on my course to Pylus, nor the wind
One moment thwarted us, or died away,
When Jove had once commanded it to blow. 230
Thus, uninform'd, I have arrived, my son!
Nor of the Greecians, who are saved have heard,
Or who have perish'd; but what news soe'er
I have obtain'd, since my return, with truth
I will relate, nor aught conceal from thee.
The spear-famed Myrmidons, as rumour speaks,
By Neoptolemus, illustrious son
Of brave Achilles led, have safe arrived;
Safe, Philoctetes, also son renown'd
Of Paeas; and Idomeneus at Crete 240
Hath landed all his followers who survive
The bloody war, the waves have swallow'd none.
Ye have yourselves doubtless, although remote,
Of Agamemnon heard, how he return'd,
And how AEgisthus cruelly contrived
For him a bloody welcome, but himself
Hath with his own life paid the murth'rous deed.
Good is it, therefore, if a son survive
The slain, since Agamemnon's son hath well
Avenged his father's death, slaying, himself, 250
AEgisthus, foul assassin of his Sire.
Young friend! (for pleas'd thy vig'rous youth I view,
And just proportion) be thou also bold,
That thine like his may be a deathless name.
Then, prudent, him answer'd Telemachus.
Oh Nestor, Neleus' son, glory of Greece!
And righteous was that vengeance; _his_ renown
Achaia's sons shall far and wide diffuse,
To future times transmitting it in song.