Her, going to the wars we left a bride
New-wedded, and thy boy hung at her breast,
Who, man himself, consorts ere now with men
A prosp'rous youth; his father, safe restored
To his own Ithaca, shall see him soon,
And _he_ shall clasp his father in his arms
As nature bids; but me, my cruel one
Indulged not with the dear delight to gaze
On my Orestes, for she slew me first.
New-wedded, and thy boy hung at her breast,
Who, man himself, consorts ere now with men
A prosp'rous youth; his father, safe restored
To his own Ithaca, shall see him soon,
And _he_ shall clasp his father in his arms
As nature bids; but me, my cruel one
Indulged not with the dear delight to gaze
On my Orestes, for she slew me first.
Odyssey - Cowper
500
Such was my dreadful death; carnage ensued
Continual of my friends slain all around,
Num'rous as boars bright-tusk'd at nuptial feast,
Or feast convivial of some wealthy Chief.
Thou hast already witness'd many a field
With warriors overspread, slain one by one,
But that dire scene had most thy pity moved,
For we, with brimming beakers at our side,
And underneath full tables bleeding lay.
Blood floated all the pavement. Then the cries 510
Of Priam's daughter sounded in my ears
Most pitiable of all. Cassandra's cries,
Whom Clytemnestra close beside me slew.
Expiring as I lay, I yet essay'd
To grasp my faulchion, but the trayt'ress quick
Withdrew herself, nor would vouchsafe to close
My languid eyes, or prop my drooping chin
Ev'n in the moment when I sought the shades.
So that the thing breathes not, ruthless and fell
As woman once resolv'd on such a deed 520
Detestable, as my base wife contrived,
The murther of the husband of her youth.
I thought to have return'd welcome to all,
To my own children and domestic train;
But she, past measure profligate, hath poured
Shame on herself, on women yet unborn,
And even on the virtuous of her sex.
He ceas'd, to whom, thus, answer I return'd.
Gods! how severely hath the thund'rer plagued
The house of Atreus even from the first, 530
By female counsels! we for Helen's sake
Have num'rous died, and Clytemnestra framed,
While thou wast far remote, this snare for thee!
So I, to whom Atrides thus replied.
Thou, therefore, be not pliant overmuch
To woman; trust her not with all thy mind,
But half disclose to her, and half conceal.
Yet, from thy consort's hand no bloody death,
My friend, hast thou to fear; for passing wise
Icarius' daughter is, far other thoughts, 540
Intelligent, and other plans, to frame.
Her, going to the wars we left a bride
New-wedded, and thy boy hung at her breast,
Who, man himself, consorts ere now with men
A prosp'rous youth; his father, safe restored
To his own Ithaca, shall see him soon,
And _he_ shall clasp his father in his arms
As nature bids; but me, my cruel one
Indulged not with the dear delight to gaze
On my Orestes, for she slew me first. 550
But listen; treasure what I now impart. [49]
Steer secret to thy native isle; avoid
Notice; for woman merits trust no more.
Now tell me truth. Hear ye in whose abode
My son resides? dwells he in Pylus, say,
Or in Orchomenos, or else beneath
My brother's roof in Sparta's wide domain?
For my Orestes is not yet a shade.
So he, to whom I answer thus return'd.
Atrides, ask not me. Whether he live, 560
Or have already died, I nothing know;
Mere words are vanity, and better spared.
Thus we discoursing mutual stood, and tears
Shedding disconsolate. The shade, meantime,
Came of Achilles, Peleus' mighty son;
Patroclus also, and Antilochus
Appear'd, with Ajax, for proportion just
And stature tall, (Pelides sole except)
Distinguish'd above all Achaia's sons.
The soul of swift AEacides at once 570
Knew me, and in wing'd accents thus began.
Brave Laertiades, for wiles renown'd!
What mightier enterprise than all the past
Hath made thee here a guest? rash as thou art!
Such was my dreadful death; carnage ensued
Continual of my friends slain all around,
Num'rous as boars bright-tusk'd at nuptial feast,
Or feast convivial of some wealthy Chief.
Thou hast already witness'd many a field
With warriors overspread, slain one by one,
But that dire scene had most thy pity moved,
For we, with brimming beakers at our side,
And underneath full tables bleeding lay.
Blood floated all the pavement. Then the cries 510
Of Priam's daughter sounded in my ears
Most pitiable of all. Cassandra's cries,
Whom Clytemnestra close beside me slew.
Expiring as I lay, I yet essay'd
To grasp my faulchion, but the trayt'ress quick
Withdrew herself, nor would vouchsafe to close
My languid eyes, or prop my drooping chin
Ev'n in the moment when I sought the shades.
So that the thing breathes not, ruthless and fell
As woman once resolv'd on such a deed 520
Detestable, as my base wife contrived,
The murther of the husband of her youth.
I thought to have return'd welcome to all,
To my own children and domestic train;
But she, past measure profligate, hath poured
Shame on herself, on women yet unborn,
And even on the virtuous of her sex.
He ceas'd, to whom, thus, answer I return'd.
Gods! how severely hath the thund'rer plagued
The house of Atreus even from the first, 530
By female counsels! we for Helen's sake
Have num'rous died, and Clytemnestra framed,
While thou wast far remote, this snare for thee!
So I, to whom Atrides thus replied.
Thou, therefore, be not pliant overmuch
To woman; trust her not with all thy mind,
But half disclose to her, and half conceal.
Yet, from thy consort's hand no bloody death,
My friend, hast thou to fear; for passing wise
Icarius' daughter is, far other thoughts, 540
Intelligent, and other plans, to frame.
Her, going to the wars we left a bride
New-wedded, and thy boy hung at her breast,
Who, man himself, consorts ere now with men
A prosp'rous youth; his father, safe restored
To his own Ithaca, shall see him soon,
And _he_ shall clasp his father in his arms
As nature bids; but me, my cruel one
Indulged not with the dear delight to gaze
On my Orestes, for she slew me first. 550
But listen; treasure what I now impart. [49]
Steer secret to thy native isle; avoid
Notice; for woman merits trust no more.
Now tell me truth. Hear ye in whose abode
My son resides? dwells he in Pylus, say,
Or in Orchomenos, or else beneath
My brother's roof in Sparta's wide domain?
For my Orestes is not yet a shade.
So he, to whom I answer thus return'd.
Atrides, ask not me. Whether he live, 560
Or have already died, I nothing know;
Mere words are vanity, and better spared.
Thus we discoursing mutual stood, and tears
Shedding disconsolate. The shade, meantime,
Came of Achilles, Peleus' mighty son;
Patroclus also, and Antilochus
Appear'd, with Ajax, for proportion just
And stature tall, (Pelides sole except)
Distinguish'd above all Achaia's sons.
The soul of swift AEacides at once 570
Knew me, and in wing'd accents thus began.
Brave Laertiades, for wiles renown'd!
What mightier enterprise than all the past
Hath made thee here a guest? rash as thou art!
