No More Learning

BOOK XX

ARGUMENT

Ulysses, doubting whether he shall destroy or not the women servants who
commit lewdness with the suitors, resolves at length to spare them for
the present. He asks an omen from Jupiter, and that he would grant him
also to hear some propitious words from the lips of one in the family.
His petitions are both answered. Preparation is made for the feast.
Whilst the suitors sit at table, Pallas smites them with a horrid frenzy.
Theoclymenus, observing the strange effects of it, prophesies their
destruction, and they deride his prophecy.


But in the vestibule the Hero lay
On a bull's-hide undress'd, o'er which he spread
The fleece of many a sheep slain by the Greeks,
And, cover'd by the household's governess
With a wide cloak, composed himself to rest.
Yet slept he not, but meditating lay
Woe to his enemies. Meantime, the train
Of women, wonted to the suitors' arms,
Issuing all mirth and laughter, in his soul
A tempest raised of doubts, whether at once 10
To slay, or to permit them yet to give
Their lusty paramours one last embrace.
As growls the mastiff standing on the start
For battle, if a stranger's foot approach
Her cubs new-whelp'd--so growl'd Ulysses' heart,
While wonder fill'd him at their impious deeds.
But, smiting on his breast, thus he reproved
The mutinous inhabitant within.
Heart! bear it. Worse than this thou didst endure
When, uncontroulable by force of man, 20
The Cyclops thy illustrious friends devour'd.
Thy patience then fail'd not, till prudence found
Deliv'rance for thee on the brink of fate.
So disciplined the Hero his own heart,
Which, tractable, endured the rigorous curb,
And patient; yet he turn'd from side to side.
As when some hungry swain turns oft a maw
Unctuous and sav'ry on the burning coals,
Quick expediting his desired repast,
So he from side to side roll'd, pond'ring deep 30
How likeliest with success he might assail
Those shameless suitors; one to many opposed.
Then, sudden from the skies descending, came
Minerva in a female form; her stand
Above his head she took, and thus she spake.
Why sleep'st thou not, unhappiest of mankind?
Thou art at home; here dwells thy wife, and here
Thy son; a son, whom all might wish their own.
Then her Ulysses answer'd, ever-wise.
O Goddess! true is all that thou hast said, 40
But, not without anxiety, I muse
How, single as I am, I shall assail
Those shameless suitors who frequent my courts
Daily; and always their whole multitude.
This weightier theme I meditate beside;
Should I, with Jove's concurrence and with thine
Prevail to slay them, how shall I escape,
Myself, at last? [88] oh Goddess, weigh it well.
Him answer'd then Pallas caerulean-eyed.
Oh faithless man! a man will in his friend 50
Confide, though mortal, and in valour less
And wisdom than himself; but I who keep
Thee in all difficulties, am divine.
I tell thee plainly. Were we hemm'd around
By fifty troops of shouting warriors bent
To slay thee, thou should'st yet securely drive
The flocks away and cattle of them all.
But yield to sleep's soft influence; for to lie
All night thus watchful, is, itself, distress.