To whom replied
Penelope
discrete.
Odyssey - Cowper
Then, ev'ry knee
Trembled, and ev'ry heart with am'rous heat
Dissolv'd, her charms all coveting alike,
While to Telemachus her son she spake.
Telemachus! thou art no longer wise
As once thou wast, and even when a child.
For thriven as thou art, and at full size
Arrived of man, so fair proportion'd, too,
That ev'n a stranger, looking on thy growth
And beauty, would pronounce thee nobly born, 270
Yet is thy intellect still immature.
For what is this? why suffer'st thou a guest
To be abused in thy own palace? how?
Know'st not that if the stranger seated here
Endure vexation, the disgrace is thine?
Her answer'd, then, Telemachus discrete.
I blame thee not, my mother, that thou feel'st
Thine anger moved; yet want I not a mind
Able to mark and to discern between
Evil and good, child as I lately was, 280
Although I find not promptitude of thought
Sufficient always, overaw'd and check'd
By such a multitude, all bent alike
On mischief, of whom none takes part with me.
But Irus and the stranger have not fought,
Urged by the suitors, and the stranger prov'd
Victorious; yes--heav'n knows how much I wish
That, (in the palace some, some in the court)
The suitors all sat vanquish'd, with their heads
Depending low, and with enfeebled limbs, 290
Even as that same Irus, while I speak,
With chin on bosom propp'd at the hall-gate
Sits drunkard-like, incapable to stand
Erect, or to regain his proper home.
So they; and now addressing to the Queen
His speech, Eurymachus thus interposed.
O daughter of Icarius! could all eyes
Throughout Iasian Argos[81] view thy charms,
Discrete Penelope! more suitors still
Assembling in thy courts would banquet here 300
From morn to eve; for thou surpassest far
In beauty, stature, worth, all womankind.
To whom replied Penelope discrete.
The Gods, Eurymachus! reduced to nought
My virtue, beauty, stature, when the Greeks,
Whom my Ulysses follow'd, sail'd to Troy.
Could he, returning, my domestic charge
Himself intend, far better would my fame
Be so secured, and wider far diffused.
But I am wretched now, such storms the Gods 310
Of woe have sent me. When he left his home,
Clasping my wrist with his right hand, he said.
My love! for I imagine not that all
The warrior Greeks shall safe from Troy return,
Since fame reports the Trojans brave in fight,
Skill'd in the spear, mighty to draw the bow,
And nimble vaulters to the backs of steeds
High-mettled, which to speediest issue bring
The dreadful struggle of all-wasting war--
I know not, therefore, whether heav'n intend 320
My safe return, or I must perish there.
But manage thou at home. Cherish, as now,
While I am absent, or more dearly still
My parents, and what time our son thou seest
Mature, then wed; wed even whom thou wilt,
And hence to a new home. --Such were his words,
All which shall full accomplishment ere long
Receive. The day is near, when hapless I,
Lost to all comfort by the will of Jove,
Must meet the nuptials that my soul abhors. 330
But this thought now afflicts me, and my mind
Continual haunts. Such was not heretofore
The suitors' custom'd practice; all who chose
To engage in competition for a wife
Well-qualitied and well-endow'd, produced
From their own herds and fatted flocks a feast
For the bride's friends, and splendid presents made,
But never ate as ye, at others' cost.
She ceased; then brave Ulysses toil-inured
Rejoiced that, soothing them, she sought to draw 340
From each some gift, although on other views,
And more important far, himself intent.
Then thus Antinous, Eupithes' son.
Trembled, and ev'ry heart with am'rous heat
Dissolv'd, her charms all coveting alike,
While to Telemachus her son she spake.
Telemachus! thou art no longer wise
As once thou wast, and even when a child.
For thriven as thou art, and at full size
Arrived of man, so fair proportion'd, too,
That ev'n a stranger, looking on thy growth
And beauty, would pronounce thee nobly born, 270
Yet is thy intellect still immature.
For what is this? why suffer'st thou a guest
To be abused in thy own palace? how?
Know'st not that if the stranger seated here
Endure vexation, the disgrace is thine?
Her answer'd, then, Telemachus discrete.
I blame thee not, my mother, that thou feel'st
Thine anger moved; yet want I not a mind
Able to mark and to discern between
Evil and good, child as I lately was, 280
Although I find not promptitude of thought
Sufficient always, overaw'd and check'd
By such a multitude, all bent alike
On mischief, of whom none takes part with me.
But Irus and the stranger have not fought,
Urged by the suitors, and the stranger prov'd
Victorious; yes--heav'n knows how much I wish
That, (in the palace some, some in the court)
The suitors all sat vanquish'd, with their heads
Depending low, and with enfeebled limbs, 290
Even as that same Irus, while I speak,
With chin on bosom propp'd at the hall-gate
Sits drunkard-like, incapable to stand
Erect, or to regain his proper home.
So they; and now addressing to the Queen
His speech, Eurymachus thus interposed.
O daughter of Icarius! could all eyes
Throughout Iasian Argos[81] view thy charms,
Discrete Penelope! more suitors still
Assembling in thy courts would banquet here 300
From morn to eve; for thou surpassest far
In beauty, stature, worth, all womankind.
To whom replied Penelope discrete.
The Gods, Eurymachus! reduced to nought
My virtue, beauty, stature, when the Greeks,
Whom my Ulysses follow'd, sail'd to Troy.
Could he, returning, my domestic charge
Himself intend, far better would my fame
Be so secured, and wider far diffused.
But I am wretched now, such storms the Gods 310
Of woe have sent me. When he left his home,
Clasping my wrist with his right hand, he said.
My love! for I imagine not that all
The warrior Greeks shall safe from Troy return,
Since fame reports the Trojans brave in fight,
Skill'd in the spear, mighty to draw the bow,
And nimble vaulters to the backs of steeds
High-mettled, which to speediest issue bring
The dreadful struggle of all-wasting war--
I know not, therefore, whether heav'n intend 320
My safe return, or I must perish there.
But manage thou at home. Cherish, as now,
While I am absent, or more dearly still
My parents, and what time our son thou seest
Mature, then wed; wed even whom thou wilt,
And hence to a new home. --Such were his words,
All which shall full accomplishment ere long
Receive. The day is near, when hapless I,
Lost to all comfort by the will of Jove,
Must meet the nuptials that my soul abhors. 330
But this thought now afflicts me, and my mind
Continual haunts. Such was not heretofore
The suitors' custom'd practice; all who chose
To engage in competition for a wife
Well-qualitied and well-endow'd, produced
From their own herds and fatted flocks a feast
For the bride's friends, and splendid presents made,
But never ate as ye, at others' cost.
She ceased; then brave Ulysses toil-inured
Rejoiced that, soothing them, she sought to draw 340
From each some gift, although on other views,
And more important far, himself intent.
Then thus Antinous, Eupithes' son.
