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There me the Hero Phidon, gen'rous King
Of the Thesprotians, freely entertained;
For his own son discov'ring me with toil
Exhausted and with cold, raised me, and thence
Led me humanely to his father's house,
Who cherish'd me, and gave me fresh attire.
There heard I of Ulysses, whom himself
Had entertain'd, he said, on his return
To his own land; he shew'd me also gold, 390
Brass, and bright steel elab'rate, whatsoe'er
Ulysses had amass'd, a store to feed
A less illustrious family than his
To the tenth generation, so immense
His treasures in the royal palace lay.
Himself, he said, was to Dodona gone,
There, from the tow'ring oaks of Jove to ask
Counsel divine, if openly to land
(After long absence) in his opulent realm
Of Ithaca, be best, or in disguise. 400
To me the monarch swore, in his own hall
Pouring libation, that the ship was launch'd,
And the crew ready for his conduct home.
But me he first dismiss'd, for, as it chanced,
A ship lay there of the Thesprotians, bound
To green Dulichium's isle. He bade the crew
Bear me to King Acastus with all speed;
But them far other thoughts pleased more, and thoughts
Of harm to me, that I might yet be plunged
In deeper gulphs of woe than I had known. 410
For, when the billow-cleaving bark had left
The land remote, framing, combined, a plot
Against my liberty, they stripp'd my vest
And mantle, and this tatter'd raiment foul
Gave me instead, which thy own eyes behold.
At even-tide reaching the cultur'd coast
Of Ithaca, they left me bound on board
With tackle of the bark, and quitting ship
Themselves, made hasty supper on the shore.
But me, meantime, the Gods easily loos'd 420
By their own pow'r, when, with wrapper vile
Around my brows, sliding into the sea
At the ship's stern, I lay'd me on the flood.
With both hands oaring thence my course, I swam
Till past all ken of theirs; then landing where
Thick covert of luxuriant trees I mark'd,
Close couchant down I lay; they mutt'ring loud,
Paced to and fro, but deeming farther search
Unprofitable, soon embark'd again.
Thus baffling all their search with ease, the Gods 430
Conceal'd and led me thence to the abode
Of a wise man, dooming me still to live.
To whom, Eumaeus, thou didst thus reply,
Alas! my most compassionable guest!
Thou hast much moved me by this tale minute
Of thy sad wand'rings and thy num'rous woes.
But, speaking of Ulysses, thou hast pass'd
All credence; I at least can give thee none.
Why, noble as thou art, should'st thou invent
Palpable falsehoods? as for the return 440
Of my regretted Lord, myself I know
That had he not been hated by the Gods
Unanimous, he had in battle died
At Troy, or (that long doubtful war, at last,
Concluded,) in his people's arms at home.
Then universal Greece had raised his tomb,
And he had even for his son atchiev'd
Immortal glory; but alas! by beaks
Of harpies torn, unseemly sight, he lies.
Here is my home the while; I never seek 450
The city, unless summon'd by discrete
Penelope to listen to the news
Brought by some stranger, whencesoe'er arrived.
Then, all, alike inquisitive, attend,
Both who regret the absence of our King,
And who rejoice gratuitous to gorge
His property; but as for me, no joy
Find I in list'ning after such reports,
Since an AEtolian cozen'd me, who found
(After long wand'ring over various lands 460
A fugitive for blood) my lone retreat.
Him warm I welcom'd, and with open arms
Receiv'd, who bold affirm'd that he had seen
My master with Idomeneus at Crete
His ships refitting shatter'd by a storm,
And that in summer with his godlike band
He would return, bringing great riches home,
Or else in autumn. And thou ancient guest
Forlorn! since thee the Gods have hither led,
Seek not to gratify me with untruths 470
And to deceive me, since for no such cause
I shall respect or love thee, but alone
By pity influenced, and the fear of Jove.
To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.
Thou hast, in truth, a most incredulous mind,
Whom even with an oath I have not moved,
Or aught persuaded. Come then--let us make
In terms express a cov'nant, and the Gods
Who hold Olympus, witness to us both!
If thy own Lord at this thy house arrive, 480
Thou shalt dismiss me decently attired
In vest and mantle, that I may repair
Hence to Dulichium, whither I would go.
But, if thy Lord come not, then, gath'ring all
Thy servants, headlong hurl me from a rock,
That other mendicants may fear to lie.
To whom the generous swine-herd in return.
Yes, stranger!